mooodymooony

[l4long-winded]

So this is somewhat inspired by the other anon about Carmy with the girl he can’t believe chose him. Maybe on a bad day, he’s just asking her why she’s with him and hes listing his bad traits and after every one she’s saying“I love you” until he stops. My man needs love, I want him so bad 😭😭

it's a culmination of it all. the piling stress from work, from this incessant need to prove himself, grief he has yet to fully process, capricious thoughts vying for his attention, exasperated expressions continuously staring daggers his way as if he's not running around without a sense of what he's doing, despite his brain instructing him this is the right path, while his heart isn't in any of it. he's having trouble breathing, to which you're there because you're always there for him at times like this as he's grasping at his chest, protecting it, and shielding it in case his rapid heart pounds its way out of his ribcage.

when he turns his head and observes the concern in your face mixed with the calming energy he really doesn't fucking deserve, his world tilts. the onslaught of it all shifts into his doubts, his insecurities, pointed at him with veracity he believes is consuming him the longer he stares. overwhelmed with emotion and panic, his fears surrounding you bloom full on his skin, thickening petals and branches crushing into the crevices of the veins in his arms and neck.

you could do better. so, so much better. you're not supposed to be here with carmen. he's kept you to himself, a caged bird he can't bother to let go of when you'd sing with access to the sky and new horizons ahead.

"i'm-i'm a fuckin' mess," he blurts, "what are you doin' here? with me? out of everyone?"

it's hard to decipher how heavy his words are when he's panting and his voice is close to cracking. it's as if he wants the answers to his question, but he's far too afraid of confirming the vicious betrayal of his doubt. he's convinced he doesn't sound ridiculous.

"because i love you."

"i-i-i fuck things up. i'll fuck you up. m'gonna ruin you and and and y-you're gonna hate me one day, n'won't blame you for a second-" he sputters, his words mashing together, strings of linguistics that don't sound like proper english. his mouth keeps opening and closing to release these incoherent ramblings, his ears bubbling with alarm bells.

"carm, i love you."

"i'm not right. i'm not fuckin' crazy," he gasps, "but i'm no good f'you. for anyone. not for my family, or, or, or my friends, if i fuckin' even have any at this point." his throat is tightening up, eyes shutting, the memory of you planted firmly behind his straining eyelids. he can't breathe.

"bear, listen, i love you so much."

"fuck, fuck, fuck this, fuck me, fuck everything, fuck the fucking restaurant, fuck, fuck, f-fuuuck it all—"

carmen flinches feeling your warm hands steady themselves on his cheeks. his lips and eyelids part, meeting your gaze. you're standing there in front of him, the combination of concern and calm remaining, as well as an affinity he will never, ever be able to understand. something about it soothes him, his breathing still ragged, but he inhales and exhales steadily out of the habit of this. it's not the first time this has happened, where he's so out of his mind that only few can pull him out before he's drowning in it. he shifts his face towards your palm, opting to press his lips against it. he should focus on breathing, but this action grounds him, muffling his worries, smothering them with the scent of your body lotion and the soft texture of your skin.

"i love you, carmen," you whisper. he hears you this time. the roar of his head dwindles down, fading in favor of hearing those words come off your lips again. he suddenly realizes how long you've been saying it while he was busy berating himself aloud with the secrets he buries deep inside.

he thinks he's going to say more shit if he tries to respond. this kind of thing has always been hard for him. pressured into it at times by his family, their defensive nature yanking it out of him by cutting at him and having it bleed out instead of nurturing it until it slips and that's all he can think about like it does with you. it spills like an inkwell. dripping over his skin. more permanent than the tattoos he's accumulated.

he nods. it's a slow and gradual thing, but he's accepting it. he wants desperately to say it back, but his lips shake with the threat of spewing more of the poison rattling in his lungs. he just keeps nodding, eventually hiding his head into your neck, lulled by the repetition of those beautiful, pacifying words.

"i love you, it's okay, breathe for me, i love you."

you love him. he's a mess and you love him. he's convinced he's going to hurt you, but you love him.

his arms tighten around you. he's positive you're capable of being better off without him, but he's not letting you go. he loves you too much to do that. he'll tell you later when he can breathe and when you inevitably render his thoughts into mush, replacing them with devotion, reassurance, and structure. yeah. yeah, he can do that. even if it's painfully obvious to everyone and you already know.

[hakuryuu]

complaining

im sooooooooooo tired of having brain bad and body weird and feeling small and cramped in myself i just want it to be easy to draw and draw easily again, i want a routine and a daily life that doesn’t scrape my already pummeled brain into a mess, i want sunshine and to be high-up and alone again. what do you do when you want to be alone again??? im looking for compromises and hoping they’ll work (leaving when i want to, aiming for my own room, setting times to call or communicate) but i dont even know if being alone is what i want. i dont even know what i want. i want to be able to draw again. i want to not have any strings on me anymore. i want my brain back!! i want my patience and resilience back, i want to stop having a meltdown because i can hear someone singing, i want to be kind again. i want i want i want. when did everything start being wrong with me. i want it back --> i drag it forward, i know, i know, i need to bury that corpse and light a candle at its grave and start building a new self up from grass and clay but its always been so much easier to look back instead of forward, and ive forgotten how to look forward anyway...

this is all because im trying to draw a shrimp and i cant btw. like not that i cant draw it very well but that i wrote this whole disjointed brain bad complain instead of drawing a shrimp because every time i try to draw i just cannot force my hand to move. this is dumb. i should trade wrists with elia

[soulless-computerbug]

Tell me ur habit thoughts

I have an ask on my main thats been sitting there for a couple years now (sorry midsy i promise its not forgotten 😭) that i want to work on now because, while i try to keep my habit as close to the source as possible, i did have some plot points in my fic that needed more, and i finally have a sort of set background for him now. Its so hard to tamper with perfection and keep it, so im trying my best 😬😩

Evan is probably my habits 4th or 5th face. He was formed during WW1, but didnt actually stick to the mortal world til after the war ended. His first sighting wouldve been the early to mid 1920s. Im debating how much i wanna chatter about it, cuz i think i wanna do a side fic about his first faces, like i plan on doing with kates background too, but ehh

Gonna slip this under a cut

Habits first face was a rail worker named Rudy. Rudy had a damn solid worker's build and a cheeky sense of humor, and a heart of steel. He was dependable if a bit brash sometimes, and to a degree his personality bled over into Habits. There was a catch though, Rudy had a family and a partner. And while Habit was tempted to just off them all for sake of ease, it would have drawn too much attention, and he was not as strong as he is now. And eventually he got caught by Rudy's girlfriend, an upper class woman named Harietta. I have art of her somewhere, I'll have to reblog with a link.

Harietta was incredibly smart and quick witted, and she found out pretty quickly that something was wrong with her secret lover. She was just never expecting it to be him being possessed by a demon. His normally playful sense of flirting was more sour, more hostile and degrading. Her and Habit did not get along for a while. But she was determined to get him to leave them both alone, and she was persistent. Habit had a loose string of plans to build his influence that she found a way to meddle in, but over time he found her more and more useful. She had connections through her wealthy father and rebellious mother, and she had a brain like a puzzle box that could find the most uncanny solution to any issue. And after a while, he found himself willingly let her coming along, being more protective of her. Needless to say, he stole his host's girlfriend.

He eventually claimed her and they got married for her comfort. The bond he gave her essentially made her immortal, and they lived as working partners and lovers well into the 90s. He kind of corrupted her a bit. He was always malcious and conniving and looking to claw himself higher and higher, wanting to rival the most powerful beings walking the mortal plane. He couldn't have some human girl swaying his ideals. So he twisted her a bit, until she was a little messed up like him. Enough to get her on board with things most people wouldn't be.

The problem with being a demon like him on the mortal plane is vessels. Other demons, like Jack and Jason, have viable appearances that are human enough to work and blend in. Habits is not. His actual form is large and very inhuman, he stands out like a sore thumb. To combat this, he has to take human vessels, an imperfect tactic to hide himself amongst humans. These people he inhabits can still die, he can make them weak or sick with his presence, and if they are of strong enough mind, they can fight back against him. One of the things he tasked Hattie to do is help him find vessels, because as much as he tried not to, he would eventually break and kill those he inhabited.

It was Hattie that found Evan. She was smitten with him immediately, and when Habit inevitably killed his current vessel, she tried to coax and eventually seduce him into their house, where she could summon her husband back into his body. Evan is incredibly strong willed, and it took a lot of work for the both of them to get him to submit enough for Habit to become a dominant existence in his body, but eventually they broke him down enough to make it work. Hattie is very fond of Evan, and when Habit isnt inhabiting him she often clings to him and confides in him what she doesnt with Habit. Evan is actually the one that knows the most about her eventual madness and disappearance.

He's still very much a Habit. Stubborn, crass clever, antagonistic. I did kinda go the more goofy route too of giving him a small group of people that he uses like fodder and foot soldiers. Rabbits if you will (lol), and he mostly uses them when he has too many things to do on his own. Or he uses them as bait, weapons, guards, whatever he needs them to do. They live on their own, and because of the way he brands them, he can call on them when he needs and they'll regroup. Funnily enough, it started as a crack idea but Natalie (Clockwork) ended up being his right hand and second in command, and she has a very interesting dynamic with him because of that. Think tired employee with sadistic boss lol. We'll see all of this in the fic; hes the last antagonist to be introduced and he almost makes himself the main antag. He's a hell of a force to be reckoned with, and he'll change the whole course of the fic when he gets introduced. It'll just be a long while til then.

Ahh. Tryna think of anything else. I'll reblog this if i think of more, its already a lot. Thanks for the ask 💕

[headypotemkinvillage]

an email i just sent to my therapist. thank god i have 2

hi there,

to put it plainly this message was so awful it left me in a string of panic attacks and yelling at the fucking walls. I'm honestly just forgetful about the bilss im sorry im sorry im sorry im sorry im sorry. put please never fucking do that again. I trust you and ive told you before this kind of lecturey shamey language has and will actively make my state worse. as your client I expect you to have the base level of emotional awareness to fucking communicate with you. YOu know exqactly what kind of state i am in and the fact that conversing with you leaves me yelling at things that arent there and worse off emotionally and mentally is a testament to an utter lack of understanding of how to communicate effectively. I do actually want to pay you you know this. but you also know im actively struggling with being shamed for not being good enough over and over and over to the point that its constantly running in my brain. Echoing that awful rhetoric only serves to reinforce this. As a therapist you should be ashamed frankly. We both know exposure therapy doesn't cure trauma. If you want me to trust you you have to make space for it but you seem to lack the ability to. If you want me to listen to you then please dont make the task a big emotional thing, you know i struggle with emotions. I expect you to be better than this, I need healing not scolding and all the latter will do is further mess with my already troubled mind. I'd ask you to get your shit together but I'm not sure that works with you considering we had this exact conversation last time. It makes it hard to do therapy with you when you act like this. I recognize my emotional response is an issue yeah yeah, but you are my therapist. your whole job includes helping me navigate and work on my emotional response. All this email illustrates is a bout of utter incompetency on your part. I hope that bout is temporary.

I dont think i'll be able to bring myself to attend saturdays session because frankly i'm finding it really hard to speak with you without getting riled up. I'll try for monday. The half hour earlier time should work

[lilac-5ky]

Heyyyy😏 can you write something for Gintoki where you get in an argument with him (cause he’s a jerk) and then he says something so back handed to you (cause he’s a jerk) and you just walk of and like cry or sumn cause it hurt so much and he just tries to apologize and it gets a little emotional idk I just need something that’ll hurt me a little bit 😔😣

A/N: Hi! I feel like Gintoki is more likely to apologize through his action than his words, and so his apology is mostly done than said :p Not sure if this is super angsty, but I hope it's good enough!

Plot: Gin being a piece of shit who never cleans and upsets poor innocent reader with his attitude.

Warning: Gets a bit suggestive with language and some minor angst ig?

Arguing with Gintoki (x Fem!Reader)

(just look at him being disgusting and cute.)

There are many reasons for one to pick a fight with Gintoki. Be it Otose arguing with him over rent delays, or Kagura and Shinpachi demanding their pay, there’s always someone at odds with the Odd Jobs’ boss.

However, when it came down to you, perhaps you had an easier time letting things slip. You’d stayed around long enough to get acclimated to all those wacky situations Gintoki involved himself in, as well as his hectic and lazy persona.

At this point, you’d earned yourself the nickname “saint” from his peers, considering how you seemed to be the only one with enough patience to put up with him. But even a saint’s patience has its limits.

When you walked into Yorouzya on a day like any other, finding an absolute war-zone where his couch once stood, not even that Buddha’s patience of yours was enough to shield your faint heart.

No way in hell would you willingly pick up his dirty underwear off the fan, or clean after the millions of empty takeout boxes residing under the kotatsu (just how much food can a person consume overnight?!), while Gintoki remained idly picking on his nose like a primadonna. This had to end.

“Gin,” you asked in a near pleading tone that went unnoticed.

“Gin?” Your second attempt was too ignored, his attention monopolized by the weather girl inside the little black screen.

Frustrated beyond compare, you threw about the first object your hands could find onto his head, leaving him with no other choice but to face you. The noodle box ended up landing like a party hat, with a string of curry dropping down his forehead. He sported a somewhat disturbed look, though that wasn’t enough to prevent him from turning back to the tv the second the noodle box fell to the floor.

“Gin!” Unable to contain your temper, you jumped to block his view.

“Huh? Y/N?” Gintoki queried as if he wasn’t even aware of your presence in prior, something that only added fuel to the fire. “What are you doing here?”

“Not cleaning your mess, that’s for sure. What’s this?” You paused to point at the underwear and then his leftovers. “And this? Who’s going to clean all this?”

“Quit nagging, it’s not even 12.” He yawned, stretching his limbs across the couch. “Kagura will probably feed them to Sadaharu, or Tama will pass by later. Just leave them be.”

You couldn’t believe in your eyes, or rather your ears. How could someone this irresponsible be running a business, when this was the kind of reception he had in store for any poor soul that dared walk in? It wasn’t as if Yorozuya was ever the pantheon of work ethics to begin with, but this was too much even for him. Feeding the trash to the dog, just what was he thinking?

“Are you for real? Why would…? Who would… ?” One unfinished sentence followed the other while you struggled to find the right words. “Nevermind. It’s no wonder no one sets foot in here nowadays. Only an idiot would choose another hare-brained idiot to handle their job for them.” You spat bitterly.

“Then I guess that makes you into an even greater idiot, Y/N. Or else you wouldn’t be showing at my doorstep to bitch about something this trivial, especially when it’s none of your concern.” He followed in the same tone, bringing the already heavy atmosphere even further down.

“It’s none of my concern whether my boyfriend’s house reeks like a dumpster? Or whether it gets infested with cockroaches? Then whose is it?” You crossed your arms over your chest. “You know, since I too spend the night here from time to time, I would appreciate if the smell of soured ramen didn’t have to compete with that of your underwear.”

Gintoki sighed in response, lazily combing through his disheveled hair with one hand. You’d always been fond of that scruffy appearance of his, but right now, all it did was add more fuel to the fire, providing you with yet another reason to stay mad at his disposition.

“And do something about your appearance already! It looks as if a crow nested in there!”

“Oi, Y/N. Is it that day of the month? I don’t remember you being such an overbearing control freak.”

“I don’t remember you being such a bum.” You argued back.

“If I’m such a bum then why do you insist on coming here?”

“Maybe I shouldn’t.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t.”

The lack of sound succeeding your heated exchange was perhaps even more disturbing than the argument itself. You got so caught up in talking back to him, that before you knew it, such regrettable words came pouring out your mouth.

“What are you standing here for?” Gintoki asked, his otherwise dead fish eyes now beaming with resentment. “The door is right there. Leave.”

Was this really… it? Was he about to forsake everything the two of you had come to be over a silly argument?

With your questions unanswered and your steps heavier than before, you paced outside Yorozuya. This definitely wasn’t the kind of time you’d hoped to spend over at his place. Part of you expected to hear his voice a final time, to receive the affirmation that this was nothing but a silly lover’s quarrel, though silence came to be your sole companion. Silence, and whatever this gut wrenching emotion was.

Little by little, you felt the oxygen within your lungs igniting you whole, slowly burning at your fuse until you couldn’t go on anymore. Crouched near the ground, all you could do was bawl right outside Otose’s bar, meekly hoping that no one was around to notice your muffled cries.

Was it frustration or was it hurt? You couldn’t tell. The only thing you knew was that this was the first time you’d ever felt such uncertainty. Shoes of different color stopped before you, each pair belonging to yet another passerby who felt entitled to shoot his look of pity your way, but not entitled enough to pry any further, to approach any closer.

It was your fault. If only you’d kept your mouth shut, then nothing would have happened. Gintoki wouldn’t get annoyed, he wouldn’t raise his voice, he wouldn’t dare say such horrible things, and he…you…

No. It was his fault for being this messy and unjust. Even if you were a bit too harsh, you acted out of genuine concern. You had no intention to watch as he festered within the four rusty walls of his house. Gintoki had always been the kind to take care of everyone, but when it came down to his own self, he seldom bothered to lift a finger.

What others attributed as mere laziness, you knew better. It was almost as if by wallowing in such unspoken misery, he was atoning for something. As if he was repenting for past sins only he knew of. Either way, his disregard for his own well-being showed in every single aspect of his lifestyle. From the sorry state of his house, to his own unkempt appearance.

You remembered of the first time you met Gin. You recalled thinking how despite his exterior, he bore resemblance to a mirror. A blurred, borderline shattered glass, be it one that let you see an image of yourself clearer than any you’d seen before. The good with the bad, the beauty and the ugliness, the flaws and the imperfections. Everything that made you into who you were was right there, delving in those maroon eyes of his.

Perhaps Gintoki was never meant to shine on his own. Perhaps his strength lied in making others shine brightest, in reflecting not the image you longed to see, but the one closest to reality.

You liked yourself when you were with him. You felt certain and grounded at the same time. That should you ever lose your way, one look at him would be enough to guide you back. You liked that, but more importantly, you liked him. That silver gleam of his was what made you fall for him in the first place.

He was right. You were overbearing and overzealous and butted in his business without thinking twice, and that was precisely why you wouldn’t give up on him. No matter what it took, you’d never quit clearing his soul off the distortions haunting it. Not before making sure that the man known as Sakata Gintoki would never grow dim, that was.

And so, you wiped the tears with the back of your hand and rose to your feet. One by one, you climbed the steps to Yorozuya all the way to the top where you stood still. What would you say to him? Apologies were never your forte and neither his. Showing up to clean his apartment as if you were part of a clean-up crew didn’t seem like a great idea either, especially when one considered the nature of your argument. What if he pushed you away again? What if he demanded that you leave?

No. No, even if he did that, there was no way you’d run. It didn’t matter if he called you names, if he dragged you outside or any of these things, really. You’d made up your mind to clean after his own mess for however long he needed you to. Until he learned to do it for himself. Until he was forced to get a real look at who he really was. That self destruction bullshit of his had to end.

Before you had the chance to contemplate any longer, the door went wide open with Gintoki appearing on the other side, evidently taken aback by your sudden reappearance.

“I-” You said in unison, each stopping at the other’s interruption.

“You-“Another failed attempt.

Taking a deep breath, you decided to blurt out everything without giving him the chance to cut in a third time. Here goes nothing.

“I’m sorry for acting like an evil mother-in-law and yelling at you the way I did. You are right, I am an overbearing control freak, but I never meant to criticize you. I felt as if that was the only way to make you listen, and I honestly can’t stand to see you living life in a swap because, Gintoki, to me you are someone very important and I only want to see you thrive. Why are you so unkind towards your own self? No matter what happened in the past, you shouldn’t let it bring you down.”

You took a short pause. Perhaps giving him a lecture about past trauma would only get him to retreat further in his shell.

“My point is, I don’t intend to stop bitching at you. Whether you like it or not, I’ll keep interfering in your business, until you stop doing yourself injustice. So please, accept my earnest concern and, for the love of god, allow me to clean your house.”

Your outburst imposed a bemused expression on his face, one that was quickly replaced by a forced snort.

“What are you talking about?” Gin leaned against the frame with his index lazily poking past the shell of his ear. “I don’t recall you paying any visits whatsoever.”

“Wait- what?”

“You play weird pranks, Y/N. Did you wake up on the wrong side of the bed? Or is this a dream you are talking about?”

It was your turn to be dumbfounded. Was this a joke or was he simply going to act as if the whole incident never occurred in the first place?

“Why are you looking at me like that? Did I grow an extra set of balls on my forehead?” He asked, patting down his head.

You brushed his comment off, unsure of what to say next. The mood had completely shifted with Gin returning to his usual “charming” self, something over which you were truthfully thankful. Of course his throwing you out meant nothing. After all, this was nothing but a silly lover’s quarrel.

“No… but looks like your wish is granted.” You jested, removing a noodle that was dangling between silver strands of hair. “It’s finally straightening up.”

Gintoki frowned, looking away while you chuckled.

“If you have the time to be running your mouth, come in already.” He mumbled before scooting to the side.

Upon entering the hallway, the first thing to catch your attention was the scent. It smelled like primrose and magnolia, the sweet vanilla essence completely taking over the foul odor previously emitted by his living room. Did someone visit him while you were gone, or did he actually douse it with perfume?

As the two of you progressed to the living room, your surprise only increased, to the point of making you wonder whether you’d entered the wrong building. Rather than encounterig the same chaos you did earlier, you found a spotless table and an even more spotless couch. The noodle boxes, the plastic cutlery, even the half torn underwear; they had all disappeared.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d place your bet on a second Amanto invasion happening, but the moment you took notice in the half concealed mop lurking between the closet’s folds, there was no doubt anymore. He had cleaned. Gintoki had actually cleaned!

“Gin…” His name was cut in half by a sole sob.

“What are you crying for?” He asked, genuinely confused by your reaction.

“I can’t believe you did such a thing.” You went on, feeling truly grateful. “Everything is squeaky clean!”

Perhaps Gintoki sucked at apologies, but when it came to making things right, he never failed to impress. He always knew exactly what to do. A push was all he needed.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Gintoki said as he approached you from behind. “It’s always clean around here.”

You were about to object to that, when you felt a pair of arms snaking around your waist, pulling you closer for him to press his body against yours. Instinctively, you looked up at him, the look in his eyes indicating he was up to no good.

“But if cleanliness is not what you want, I know of a way to make things dirty again.”

On second thought, a bit of disarray never hurt.

[seita]

— better than (m.)

pairing : iwaizumi/reader

wordcount : 3.087

genre : fluff, smut, pwp

cw : college!au, athletic trainer!iwaizumi

tags : implied age gap (hes 27 reader is in college- age nkt specified. he's older tho), size kink, dom!iwa, pussy job (a lil bit), multiple orgasms, sensitivity kink (if u squint), squirting, fingering, creampie, aftercare.

note : this was just an excuse to write about how iwaizumi is better than any other boy <3 thank u to @toshisins for beta'ing this for me <3

+ summary : you're so tired of dumb college boys who hump and dump, with no stroke game, and can never even try to get you off. that is, until you meet 27 year old iwaizumi hajime.

When you first met Iwaizumi Hajime at the bar near your college campus, you noticed how good looking he was. Well, that was an understatement - he was tall, fit with tanned skin and a confident aura that made you weak in the knees.

You hadn't actually had the courage to approach him, however. Instead, you let some college boy buy you a cheap drink and take you home for some mediocre sex before kicking you out after not even 15 minutes of his reckless humping.

The second time you met him was at the same place. He was sitting at the bar, nursing a glass of whiskey that was almost empty. His back was to you and it gave you a wonderful view of his broad shoulders.

The mediocre lay from the last time you had been there attempted to chat you up again with false confidence, as if he had been the best fuck of your life. Naturally, you weren't having any of his bullshit - he tried to rub your clit like a scratch and sniff, forcing you to pry his hand away from it, there was no chance in hell you were giving him another second of your time. He definitely wasn't the type of guy who took rejection well, if not evident by the way he exploded and went off calling you a wide, colorful variety of names paired with numerous hurtful insults that had tears of humiliation filling your eyes.

“Hey now,” a smooth, deep voice had interrupted his very public spiel, “Don’t punish the girl for your own short comings, if she doesn't wanna fuck you again, don't you think that says more about your abilities as a man?”

The other man sputtered, muttering even more curses before storming out - probably not wanting to tussle with a guy who looked like he benched every second of his day.

There was something about Iwaizumi that just immediately had your heart skipping a beat over him. He was kind, a gentleman, and never seemed desperate or overbearing. He was confident and comfortable with himself and where he was in life.

You quickly learned that Iwaizumi was 27, almost 28 and worked as an athletic trainer so he traveled a lot.

For a while, your relationship seemed one sided with him. You'd text him and he’d reply but he rarely ever actually reached out to you. You tried flirting with him, asking him out for drinks, but it never seemed to pull him in.

It was frustrating. In basically no time at all, you had developed a stupid puppy dog crush on him. You felt like a middle school girl with a crush on a high school senior - like he was never going to give you the time of day. You were simply too young for him.

You eventually stopped trying with him, choosing to delete your message thread with him and continued on with your life.

You went through more college-boy hookups - all of them ending in disaster. Quite frankly, you were fed up with mediocre cock and being treated like shit when they were done with you. It wasn't a nice feeling, being kicked out after they didn't even bother trying to make you cum.

You couldn’t help but wonder what Iwaizumi would be like in bed. He was just so attractive, you knew he had gotten his dick wet more times than he could count. He definitely seemed the type who preferred relationships over hookups.

That's when it occurred to you.

You pulled out your phone and scoured your contacts. It had been a couple weeks since you spoke but you couldn't resist bugging him just one last time. You opened a new message thread with him and quickly typed the question that was now plaguing your mind.

“Do you have a girlfriend?”

It was the question that had changed the course of your relationship with him.

When you asked, it was like everything fell into place. Perhaps it finally relayed to him the interest you had. All that really mattered was the fact he suddenly began talking to you, starting conversations and even venturing into phone calls with you.

You lost all interest in those college boys you once hung out with and went home with to get laid. None of them made you feel the way Iwaizumi could with a simple text message. He was everything a girl could ask for and you were shocked he was single.

Which was why you were quick to ask him on a date, not caring if it made you look desperate -- you practically were. You would be damned if he went off the market while you were busy beating around the bush.

Going on a date with Iwaizumi was like a dream. You were so used to dates at sleazy bars for a couple of drinks just so they could hurry up and take you home for a quick fuck.

Iwaizumi took the time to take you on several dates -- dinner, movies, walks around town to obscure shops he thought you might like, before it finally led to the bedroom.

You had never been nervous with sex but with Iwaizumi it was different. The routine was dumb college boys who usually fawned over your tits for a few minutes before their hard ons became the center of their brain function.

You found yourself completely bare on his bed as he stood at the foot, fully clothed. The way his eyes raked across your body like a lion eyeing its next, delicious meal had you curling in on yourself shyly.

His lips quirked up as your arms came across your breasts, shielding them from his predatory gaze, “Oh now, you know better than that, don’t you? What kind of good girl hides herself, hm? Acted so eager for my cock all this time, now you wanna be shy?”

You gasp, cheeks flushing hot as you register his words -- he’d known you wanted him that badly all this time?

He clicks his tongue, “You didn’t think you were subtle did you? Bet you would have done anything to get your paws on my dick when I got off work early the other day, hm? Showed up at your apartment...you were starin’ real hard at me, I’m right aren’t I?”

You think that to that day, lashes fluttering against your cheeks at the memory. He was wearing loose gray sweats and a muscle tank top that showed his biceps flexing with every movement he made. Your eyes had immediately been drawn, however more down to his crotch instead. Where you could clearly see the outline of his cock through the material.

You had stuffed your little fingers in your cunt for hours that night, thinking about how big he looked -- even soft, couldn’t imagine if he was hard.

“Ah, there you go again,” he muses, snapping you out of your haze, “Maybe if you ask real pretty for me, I’ll give you just what you want.”

“Please,” you immediately gasp, “Want you so much Hajime, i-it hurts. Can’t stop thinkin’ about you…”

“It hurts?” he huffs, finally reaching up to pull his shirt off, leaving you to ogle his pecs and defined abs, which flex as he works on removing his jeans, “Needy little cunt hurts ‘cause you don’t have a nice, fat cock stuffing it full? Such a dramatic little baby. I just know your phone is full of some little college boys’ numbers...why don’t you give them a call?”

You shake your head, “Don’t want them! I just know they’re not as good as you, Hajime, please...please make me cum, I'll do anything?”

“Aw, those idiot little boys don’t know how to make a pretty girl like you cum, is that it?” he asks, climbing onto the bed, making the mattress dip beneath you as he slots himself between your thighs.

“No,” you pout, letting him spread your legs, hands under your knees to open you up to his greedy gaze.

“So compliant with me, you just need a real man to get you off, huh?” he smiles when you nod, “Don’t worry, I’ll take real good care of you.”

Oh, you knew. Just from the way he moved his hips against yours, parting your folds so the head of his cock glided from your clenching little hole, dragging your slick up to your clit -- you just knew that he knew what he was doing.

As you looked between your legs, you felt yourself gush at the sight. His cock was so big, long and fat, drooling precum over your slick little slit, making a mess. He wrapped his fist around his length, making you whimper as his fingers couldn’t even wrap around the girth of him. He slapped his cock against your cunt, groaning at the strings of your slick that clung to him.

“Such a messy cunt,” he sighs, making sure to spank your clit with the head of his cock, laughing breathlessly when your thighs jumped in response to the sudden stimulation, “So fucking eager for me, aren’t you?”

“Uhuh,” you sigh, arching your hips, “Want you to fuck, please, Hajime, need it so bad.”

Much to your dismay, he shakes his head, “Can’t just put it in, pretty baby,” the pet name makes you whimper, “It’ll hurt too much, want you to feel good, yeah?”

“I can handle it,” you breathlessly reassure, canting his hips upward once more to drag your clit against that ridge on the crown of his cock, “Jus’ put it in…”

He doesn’t respond this time but still makes no move to put his cock inside. You’re distracted, however, by the way he now focuses on playing with your clit. Using his cock, he drags the underside across the hard little bud, slaps it once with the tip and before you know it your body is seizing up and you cum.

You let out a string of curses, falling limp against the bed as he works you through the quick high.

“See, that was so easy,” he chuckles, “Those stupid little boys you’ve been letting screw you have no idea what they’re doing, do they? Little cunts so sensitive, I barely even had to do anything to make you cum.”

You’re still trembling when you come down, licking your lips as you give him a dopey little smile and a nod at his cooing. He can’t resist leaning down, and pressing his lips against yours almost desperately. You wrap your arms around his neck, holding him in a deep kiss while his hand finds its way between your legs, two fingers sliding easily into your slick little cunt.

You moan into his mouth, “Hajime ah! ...please, make me cum again.”

“Fuck, you’re so desperate for me,” he hisses through his teeth, “Clenching around my fingers so tight. If I crook my fingers...right here...I bet you’ll just…”

As if on cue, his fingertips hook on your g-spot and you squeal, legs kicking out as you gush around his fingers. He bites his lip and continues to fuck his fingers against that spot, watching your eyes roll back, mouth falling open in a silent cry as you cum for the second time in mere minutes.

“Y-You’re so good, Hajime…” you praise softly, “Fuck, please, give me your cock now!”

He laughs and sits up properly again, pulling his fingers from your cunt. He examines them for a second, slick with your cum and streaks of cream covering the digits before he pops them into his mouth with a moan, savoring the taste of you.

“Alright, baby,” he sighs after pulling out his fingers with a pop!. He grips you beneath the knees again and scoots closer until his tip prods at your entrance. You shudder at the feeling, “Relax for me, pretty girl, let me in…”

Iwaizumi begins pushing in, letting out a soft groan as the head finally buries itself in your cunt. You squeal at the feeling, pulling your knees closer to your chest. The sound of you moaning and whimpering just from his head has him throbbing almost painfully against your tender cunt.

“Almost there…” he huffs, grinning at the sight of your eyes rolling back, “Ah, does that feel good?”

“Yes!” you cry out, “Biggest cock I’ve ever had…’s full…”

“Yeah, baby? It feels so good to finally get your cunt filled with a nice, big cock huh?” he laughs when you nod eagerly, “It’s alright, baby. You won’t have to deal with any mediocre college boys anymore, yeah? This cock’s all yours now…you hear that? All yours.”

Your hand flies down between your legs, finding your clit. He watches with lidded eyes as you circle the little bud and squeal, keeping his hips still to let you cum around his cock nice and hard like you need.

“That’s it, pretty girl,” he hums, “Get yourself off, you know what you need...atta girl…”

You sigh happily at his praise, licking your lips and relax against the bed once more. He takes that as his hint that you were ready, pulling his hips back before roughly slamming back inside your sensitive cunt. It knocks the air from your lungs and you cry out, unable to hold back your noises as he fucks you senseless.

He uses his strength to keep you pinned, forcing your knees against your chest, leaving your cunt open and vulnerable to his pistoning cock. Iwaizumi is so big that the stretch burns every time he sinks back into you, the tip touching your cervix with every calculated thrust, making your entire body ache with the deep pain of it.

But it all feels so good, you’d never been fucked like that before. He knew exactly where to aim his cock, keeping his eyes fixed on your face to watch your reactions, gaze flicking down to where his cock stuffs your cunt full to watch you coat him in your cream whenever he grazes that sweet little spot deep inside you -- a spot no other man had ever tried to find before.

“Feel good?” he questions, though he knew the answer even before you cry it out.

“Ah, yes! Yes, yes, yes!” you sob, “I-It feels so good, Hajime! Fuck, you’re so good at fucking me! You make me feel like a virgin all over again!”

He grins, “Yeah, I know I am, baby.”

His cocky, confident response would have been a turn off with any other man, but with him -- it only made you moan. He had every right to be cocky, he knew just how to use his cock and it was exhilarating.

“You gotta cum again for me, pretty,” he pants, “Cum again, one more time, let go.”

Your throat burns from how much you scream for him, the messy noises coming from him fucking your sloppy cunt should be embarrassing -- you’ve never made such a mess before. You’ve never been so wet, creaming and gushing all the way down his balls.

He didn’t seem to mind, instead he seemed to only be turned on by it.

“I want you to squirt, can you do that for me? Make a pretty mess for me.”

You shake your head, “D-Don’t know how...Can’t.”

“Yes you can, baby,” he purrs, “I can make you, you know that I will.”

You didn’t but, you couldn’t help but nod -- immediately believing him and trusting him. He shifts his knees just slightly, changing his center of balance before his palm curls over your pubic bone, thumb effortlessly finding itself pressed against your clit.

The change in angle lets him hit your g-spot even more brutal than before. You’re immediately arching and crying out for him, eyes rolling back into your head as you feel your orgasm slam into you faster than you’d ever experienced.

Instead of slowing you down, he works you through it, keeping the same, animalistic pace and keeps his thumb pressed against your clit, the rough pad of his thumb has you ogling. If anything, the calloused hands of Iwaizumi proves to you how much of a real man he is, those college boys have nothing on him.

“Give it to me, c’mon,” he urges, clenching his teeth together from the effort it takes to keep going to this hard and fast pace.

“H-Haji…” you cut yourself off as you feel yourself get thrown over the edge again. This time, something feels different and you can’t help but sob, “Please! I-I’m gonna-!”

“That’s it, fuck!” he moans, pace stuttering when you squirt -- your cum splashing against his abs as you shudder and squeal, “Good fuckin’ girl, my good girl. Shit, where do you want me to cum?”

“I-Inside! Fuck, please! I need your cum!” you immediately sob, nails biting in his biceps where you reach out to grip him -- trembling and crying from overstimulation as he works towards his own high.

“You sure? Shit,” you nod, breathless pleas falling from your lips as he finally stills, spilling his load deep inside with a long, drawn-out groan.

Everything is still for a moment and then he’s pulling out with a hiss. You whine at the feeling of your cunt gaping, yearning for his cock again, as his cum leaks out.

He hums, “Sorry about that, let me get you cleaned up.”

You sigh, and close your eyes, trying to relax and let your body settle its trembling. He comes back and quietly works on cleaning the mess between your thighs.

“Alright, up you go,” he sighs, taking your arm and helping you to your feet. You whine and wobble for a second, making him laugh, “You good?”

“Y-Yeah…” you stumble a bit and lean against his dresser, looking for your discarded clothes.

He has his back to you as he strips his sheets. Suddenly, you feel shut out -- like you shouldn’t be there anymore.

He brushes past you to his closet, pulling out some fresh sheets. You feel silly, standing there naked while he gets ready for bed. You bend down and grab your panties, clumsily putting them on before moving to pick up your dress, where it’s crumpled on the floor.

“What’re you doing?” he laughs, “That won’t be comfortable to sleep in.”

“Huh?” you tilt your head to the side and he pauses fluffing his pillows.

“What...you didn’t think I was kicking you out, did you?” he asks and scoffs at the face you make.

“Well I...usually I…” you shift on your feet nervously and he frowns, walking up to you.

He cups your cheeks and makes you look at him, “Jesus, who have you been fucking?” he laughs and gently nudges you towards the bed, “Lay down before you fall over.”

Fighting back a smile, you do as you’re told and sit on the bed, watching as he puts on a fresh pair of sweats, waiting for him to join you. When he does, he immediately pulls you into his arms, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“Take a nap, and then we’ll take a shower.”

“It’s 11 at night, it wouldn’t be a nap,” you counter with a giggle.

“Well,” he sighs, “Take a shower in the morning then, and then we can go get breakfast, yeah?”

You smile and relax against him, “Sounds good.”

seita © 2020 | all content and its rights belong to me. do not modify or repost

[blueprint-han]

soothing — lee felix.

pairing — felix x (gn) reader

genre — fluff.

word count — 1.9 K

warnings — the reader has hair long enough to braid, other than that, 

note — husband felix brain go bzz bzz <3

“Whoa—” Felix immediately lifts his coffee cup into his hands when you plop down headfirst on the sofa right next to him, groaning in relief as the soft couch fabric surrounds and engulfs you. You throw your bag onto the floor, squirming your way out of your coat before doing the same with it. Felix giggles, the motions you’re adopting to try and not move from the couch but still get yourself a bit more free looking way too funny to the other person.

Your hair is out of it’s ponytail that Felix had surely seen you leave in, and completely disheveled, as though to prove how tired you truly are. Placing his coffee cup on the center table, he scoots closer to your sprawled out figure on the couch, biting his lip to hold back his laugh, but failing to do so.

“Hello to you too, welcome back!” He says all happy and smiley, which you can clearly hear in his tone. His voice instantly brings you some calm, and you sigh, pulling yourself out of your comfortable position to give Felix what seemed like the most adorable expression your husband had ever seen. Your shoulders are slouched yet they seem stiff, as though you’ve been housing tension in them all day. There’s a pout on your face, directed towards Felix for indirectly making fun of your actions, but he knows it’s not serious.

“Hey, I’ve had a terrible day today. Cut me some slack.”

“I can see that,” Felix points out, reaching out to push away the hair that falls over your face and restricts your eyesight. Your eyes immediately flutter shut, and you lean into his touch, almost landing headfirst in front of Felix’s lap if he hadn’t started giggling again in that awfully serotonin-inducing tone and propped his hand against your forehead.

“There, there. Why don’t you go to our room and sleep for a while, hm? We’ll order takeout today, if that makes you feel better.”

Mm, yes. Pizza. Comfort Food.

“That sounds good…” You smile dizzily, still resting the weight of your head against Felix’s hand. Then, you open your eyes, meeting his soft ones and let yourself admire the beauty of your husband for two seconds. He’s been growing his hair long nowadays, and that long hair is tied into a neat ponytail behind him. His smile is as bright as ever. It’s the kind of smile that makes you want to cry and tear up, but also makes your heart flutter whenever it’s directed at you, or literally anything.

His eyes twinkle when they meet yours, and you let your eyes trail over the freckles littering his skin and nose. He’d still be in his makeup most of the times when you’d get home, so this sight is definitely an invited one. You had to admit — to you, there was nothing more beautiful than Felix’s beauty without any makeup, or filter, or editing. He was best when he was himself, his smiley, cute, adorable self. The only one who could make you feel calm without even doing anything, the only person who could make everything seem better with just the smallest gesture.

The only person who made your heart flutter the way it did right now.

You breath in before leaning closer to him, giving him an expression he knew very well. Even after two years of marriage, he could still never not melt whenever you gave him puppy eyes, or whenever you tried to act cute for him to give you something.

“Okay, I know that look-” Felix shakes his head and laughs heartily, leaning toward you too and squishing your cheeks. 

“Pleaseeeeee~” You drag, scrunching up your face in the way you knew your husband would give in to your advances. “I’m tired and plus you petting my hair whenever I fall asleep on your lap is very soothing.”

“Okay, but only on one condition — you go change and freshen up before that.” Felix points to your formal clothing, and you huff in disapproval. “Not going to lie, you smell- kinda.” He makes that cute scrunchy face that you can’t help but malfunction over, even though he’d just teased you.

“Alright, fine.” You roll your eyes playfully, getting off the couch and slouching your way to your shared room, letting yourself change and wash your face. It does make you feel a lot less tense and relieved, but all in all, more excited to fall asleep on your husband’s lap. His touch is always gentle, like a violin bow sliding off it’s strings to produce gentle, calming music.

When you come back, Felix has already cleaned up the couch, the blanket that was sprawled on it now neatly spread for you to tuck yourself into. Obviously, this wasn’t your first time falling asleep with Felix on the couch — it happened more often than one would think it would, to the point where Felix insisted there always be a pillow and a blanket on the couch. The pillow is placed against his lap, and he’s already finished his coffee up and scrolling through his phone.

When he feels your head softly land against his lap, he smiles to himself, placing his phone away and immediately tangling his fingers into your hair as you pull the blanket on top of you, tucking it under your chin and snuggling yourself all warm and cozy against him.

“There, doesn’t that feel a lot better than slithering around in your work clothes?” Felix asks, placing another hand on your thigh to rub small circles into it. 

“Yeah, it really does.”

When Felix starts running his hands through your hair and drawing soothing patterns on it, your whole body immediately feels like it’s melting into the couch. The warmth from the blanket combined with the magic his hands possessed was enough to push you into a deep slumber, until a question pops up in your brain, and halts your train to slumberland.

“When was the last time you braided my hair?” you ask, any signs of your sleep vanished all of a sudden.

“Huh- that’s sudden.”

“Just something that I remembered.”

“Hmm, I guess it was in the early time of our marriage? I don’t remember doing your hair after that, to be honest.”

“Ooh!” You perk up, turning to meet Felix’s gaze. “Why don’t you do it now? I’ll get the comb! One second-” 

“Wait, wait, wait.” Felix pushes you back onto his lap, smiling brightly at your eagerness. “What happened to hey I’ve had a terrible day and I'm tired?”

“Like I said, your hands in my hair is always soothing, plus, my hair's a mess and braiding it would be better.” You push his hand away, running over to your room to fetch the comb before scurrying back to him. You sit down at the couch in front of Felix, pushing the comb into his hand and facing forward.

Felix smiles fondly at you, his heart pounding at your excitement for something so small. He’s lucky to have such a wife, really. A person who knows him truly, a person who loves him for who he truly is on the inside, and a person who can always find happiness with him in the smallest things.

As for you? You’ve lucky to have such a husband. Such a bright, outgoing, empathetic person. You’ve been really blessed to have someone as pure hearted, kind and lovely as him. You’ve been blessed to be the woman he finds his happiness with.

“Okay…” He runs the comb through your hair, and owing to its effect, instantly, your eyes flutter close when he places his hand on top of your head. There was something so exquisite about his touch, it was so soothing. It was like a soft feather running against your skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake but always led you to feel relaxed. 

Once Felix has smoothed down your hair, he begins braiding it, and you're already half asleep at this point. It’s like a warm cocoon of love and pure adoration for each other is surrounding the both of you, lulling you into the blissful intimacy of just being with each other and sharing this comfortable silence.

You can hear Felix’s laugh and it pulls you out of your trance. You then realise that you’re almost close to falling asleep on Felix’s knee — clearly, you were still sleepy regardless of your excitement.

“Y/N, you’re leaning to the side.”

“Didn’t I say your hands were soothing?”

Felix blushes. He still can’t help but feel shy of your reaction to his touch even after so long, especially when you’re so direct and open about it. He ignores the heat rising up to his cheeks, leaning down to press a chaste kiss to your hair and forehead before combing through it again and gathering your hair into a ponytail.

“Okay, just stay straight until the first two plaits, and then you can sleep.”

“Mmmm, I don’t know if I’ll be able to keep myself up for so long though. This feels nice…”

“Y/N, come on!” Felix slaps your shoulder slightly, feeling himself blush even more. Of course, you can’t see him because you’re facing forward, but you can sense the overly chirpy, bright tone he’s speaking in. You’d be the first to know about your husband that he gets very shy when he’s praised for anything.

“Okay, okay fine. But do it quickly.”

Felix hums in reply before running his hands through your hair one more time, gently crossing the sections of hair over each other over and over again. The room is filled with a soft, quiet comfortable silence — one that Felix loves a lot. He wants nothing more than such soft and pretty moments, such lovin moments with his wife.

As he braids, your body leans more and more to his knee, and by the time he’s done, your cheek is pressed cutely against his thigh, your eyes closed shut in slumber. He quickly ties the end with a hair tie, and silently stares at your calm figure snoozing on his knee.

“So cute…” He thinks, not being able to hold back his smile as he lets himself admire your sleeping figure for a quick moment, before mischievously poking your cheek.

You whine at the intrusion, squirming around and you’re almost about to fall asleep again if it isn’t for your husband being a little shit, poking at your cheek again.

“What is it?” You whine louder this time.

“You’re gonna sprain your neck.” Felix says as a matter-of-fact.

“Ugh, okay fine… you’re gonna have to give me more of your ramen for disturbing me.” You pout, lifting yourself up before crawling into the blankets and lying down on Felix’s lap again.

“Hey! Who’s the one who ignored their sleep and got their poor husband to braid their hair?”

“You say that like you weren’t just blushing two minutes ago, sunshine.”

Felix has no words for that, and ends up stuttering. You giggle in victory, tucking yourself into the blanket once again before fluttering your eyes close. You bask in the calmness of the surroundings, letting yourself revel in the feeling of warmth that seeps through you.

Except, one thing’s missing.

“Hey!” You call, snapping your husband out of his admiring gaze. He doesn’t know when he got so engrossed into admiring your beauty, but nonetheless, he can’t stop himself from feeling warm internally when you pout once again. 

“Your hands.” You rub your head against where it’s rested against his thigh, a frown on your face due to the lack of, to quote you, soothingness.

So cute, Felix thinks again in awe, tangling his fingers into your hair before finally, finally watching you drift off to sleep peacefully.

networks: @inkidz​ @kpopscape​ @kdiarynet​ @fluffyskzclub​ @destinyverse​ @skzwritersclub​ @kwritersworld​ @lovesick-net​

taglist: @cafejjunie​ @sleepylixie​ ​ @coco-riki​ ​ @stayndays​ ​ @yutassecretheaven​ ​ @lost-midnight-flower​ ​ @p2q3r4​ @anskiie​ ​ @happiestgirlontheeastcoast @cuddlychrisbang @orphic-chan​

[silksaddle]

lullaby

rating: 18+ only!

pairing: frankie morales x afab/fem!reader

summary: two love birds fucking to sleep.

word count: 2.2k+

content: fingering, brief intercrural sex, piv sex, biting, praise, choking (if you really, really squint)

a/n: ahhh. ignoring all the day’s responsibilities to write frankie smut. you know how it is.

It’s that usual slump of the rainy afternoon, your brain fogging over at the same rate that your eyelids grow heavy, blurry bursts of attention dwindling down to a steady and constant disinterest. Caffeine would do little to help, you think, clicking the pen in your hand— the only thing that keeps you alert. Incessant, slow snaps of noise against your thumb.

Resting your chin in your palm, you look over the same string of words that have flown through your vision three times, always forgotten once your sight leaves them. A break would help, should help, but you can’t pull yourself up from the chair. Instead, your arms become a pillow underneath your head, crossed and slightly uncomfortable for your neck as you scoot the chair outwards and lean against the desk.

Half-conscious, you hear the door crack open, then listen to the way it squeaks further as Frankie carefully pokes his head in. You hum in acknowledgement of his presence, but it’s the most you can manage, turning your head to rest the other cheek over your forearms, pushing the work back in the process.

His chuckle follows, warm and cheery sounds filling your ears until his large hand rests firm on your shoulder, fingertips applying light pressure in a too-gentle attempt at pulling you upright.

“Baby...” he whispers, lowering his head until his lips are just shy of your ear, “that doesn’t look very comfortable.” There’s a concerned tone lurking underneath the sweet edge of his voice as he begins to rub his fingers into both shoulders, working into the knots and tension. “Time for a nap?”

He presses a little harder into the spaces beside your neck and you raise your head with a sigh, leaning into his calming touch. 

“Looks like it,” he continues, bending to leave a soft kiss on your neck. “Come on, sweetheart. Up.” He places his hands under your arms and lifts, raising you a fraction of the way until you hold yourself up for him, standing on your feet and then lazily falling into the support of his strong arms.

“Hi,” you smile into his chest, all woodsy and warm with the essence of campfire.

“Been working real hard, huh?” he smiles back, gingerly leading you to bed, minding the steps you take.

At the foot of the bed, he sits you down and kneels at your feet, deft fingers working at the button of your jeans. His tongue pokes out in his focus, sliding across his upper lip.

“What’re you doing, baby?” you question, brushing a curl off his forehead with a single finger.

“Tell me if I’m wrong, but jeans aren’t comfortable to sleep in,” he laughs, his head chasing that subtle touch of yours. His fingers hook at the waistband and tug, you lifting your hips for him to aid in the process. The denim bunches at your feet and he pulls off each pant leg, dropping a kiss to each knee.

You thank him as he stands once more, planting his palms on either side of you as he leans in for a long, simple kiss to your lips. “You know I’m always available if you need to be undressed,” he says into your mouth and you giggle back into his. He urges you to lay down after ridding himself of his own pants, pulling you up with him on the mattress.

He’s a warm, solid comfort behind you as he tucks his smooth legs into the backs of yours, a heavy arm draping over your waist and bringing you ever closer to himself. His nose tickles the back of your neck as he uses it to move your hair, getting it out of the way for his lips to leave kisses there.

“Frankie,” you laugh, light and airy, squirming in his gentle grip while his kisses gain firmness and you feel the unmistakable yet lightning quick swipe of his tongue. His movements slow, an arm sneaking under your shirt and a thumb seeking out your nipple. He brushes over it languidly, hooking his chin over your shoulder to watch you and hear the way your breathing quickens. 

“Frankie...” This time, you sigh his name instead of laughing it out and you can feel him rapidly hardening against you, his hips beginning an unhurried roll.

“What kind of man would I be...” his breaths are shallow in your ear and he punctuates his words with a rough grind, “if I didn’t fuck my girl to sleep?”

“Oh, God, baby...” Breathless, you match and mirror each roll of his hips, listening to the low groans falling out of him. He brings his thumb up to your mouth and waits for you to take it in and wet it; you swirl your tongue before he withdraws it and brings it back to your nipple, massaging its wetness into the sensitive skin. 

“Is this okay?” He moans the question, reaching his hand down the front of your underwear and whimpering when he feels how slick you are for him, how physical your neediness has become.

“Fuck, always, Frankie, keep going,” you splutter, earning a pleased chuckle, his fingers spreading your wetness and circling your clit softly. Your head falls back into his shoulder and your body rocks with each thrust of his, sheets rustling beneath the both of you.

“Shit, you’re wet, baby.” His voice teeters on the edge of trembling as he slides two thick fingers in to stretch you out, fucking you with them in time with his grinding. Your own hand is quick to grasp at his wrist, nails digging, your moans filling the room in high and breathy, desperate and desirous noise. He curls the fingers inside you, pressing them tight to that spot he knows you can barely handle and keeps them there, rubbing it, massaging it. 

“Fuck, I need to fuck you, have to... have to have you,” he grunts, rubbing a few more circles before slipping his hand away, leaving you whining at the loss. “Shhh, baby,” he soothes, reaching down and tugging your underwear off. You kick them from your feet and attempt to turn and help him out of his but are powerless against the strength of him pinning you on your side. “No, I want you like this,” he tells you— warns you, sliding an arm under your neck and bending it to hold you still, squeezing you between his bicep and forearm. 

Taking his cock out, you feel it hard on your skin with the slight dampness of precum dripping. For a moment, he slides it between your thighs, your arousal allowing it to slip easy and thoroughly through your folds. At another whine of his name, he notches it at your entrance and before stretching you on it, he hooks a hand under your knee and raises your leg.

He gives you the first few inches and pauses to let you adjust, though his restrain is steadily running out. Once he’s sure you’re okay, he lunges forward to the hilt and his grip tightens on your neck, your leg, and the sound that leaves him is wrecked; a serrated and low hiss causing you to wet his cock even more.

“Jesus, fuck— you feel perfect like this,” Frankie babbles, lips catching on your ear lobe. You tilt your head to leave a free space for him and he takes it, open mouthed nips pulling at your skin, but not lasting— he turns to simple mouthing at your neck when he pulls out and pushes back in, the ability to place proper kisses diminishing, replaced by his pleasure.

He’s so thick, even more so at this angle, filling you to the point you feel complete with him nestled into you like this. The scruff of his cheek scratches on your neck, your hand reaching back to keep him there, fingers threading through what used to be a neat head of hair, now a mess of curls.

“M— more, please,” you beg, wishing you could turn your head enough to kiss him. Frankie notices the strain of your need, leaning his face as close to yours as he can, capturing your lips in a messy, sloppy kiss; it’s a desperate joining of mouths. His thrusts grow more urgent when he feels your slick dripping out onto the rest of him, sharing his breath with you; his groans to your lighter sighs.

“Yeah baby? You want some more?”

Lifting your leg even higher, deepening the crease in your hip, he fucks into you faster, harder, hitting something profound inside you and he tells you how fucking good you feel, how pretty you are, how gorgeous you sound. 

Mewling, you tug roughly on his hair, jolting with every push. His teeth scrape your shoulder, trailing until he bites down on it with a loud grunt, grinding his cock deep instead of fucking you in and out, keeping it inside you with each small but hefty shove.

He surrounds you; his flannel-covered chest and soft belly flush to your back, his wet, desperate mouthing, his cock filling you up so well. He lets your leg free, dropping that hand to your clit, running the tip of his middle finger over its slippery surface.

“That’s right, baby, just let me fuck you,” he coos, nuzzling his cheek on your shoulder, “just let me take— fuck— take care of you.”

“Frankie, you feel so good, baby, I can’t—”

“S’okay, I’ve got you.”

Another moan breaking from your throat forces him to start moving again, hard enough to make those sharp slapping noises of his pelvis against your ass, though not as loud as his harsh breaths in your ear, his strained praise. He picks up the pace of his fingers, swiping petal soft patterns on your clit, your sensitivity allowing that gentleness to be wholly pleasurable.

“I’ve needed you like this for so fucking long,” Frankie confesses, a deep furrow in his brow, his teeth catching his bottom lip. “Thought about fucking you from behind, making you cum on my cock, hearing you moan just for me...” 

“Francisco!” You cry, his fingers working you up almost too fast, and paired with the sensation of his intense pushes, there isn’t much time left to brace yourself for the way you’re about to cum, for the way it’s swiftly building up strong and relentless.

“Come on, baby, cum on me, I wanna feel it.”

You can faintly hear him urging you to take a deep breath right as it washes over you, the tingling, fiery release spreading from your head to your toes, all while Frankie fucks you through it. His cock brushes every inner part of you, his finger on your clit stopping just to apply pressure that sings from your core.

“Good girl,” he rasps those sweet words, your throat turning sore at the endless panting and use of your voice, your leg falling limp to the mattress after holding it up so long for him. From the corner of your vision you can see him fisting the pillow underneath you, the veins of his hand prominent, the muscles of his forearm tensing.

“Can I—”

“Yes, please, baby, cum inside,” you whimper, his cock pushing in even smoother with the added slick of your orgasm and he mewls at those words, getting a few more rhythmic thrusts in before they turn ragged and he spills into you with a soft shout. His nose burrows into your neck as he tries and fails to catch his breath; you, letting him hold you close as he comes down.

He resumes those featherlight kisses, a line leading up to that spot just behind your ear— warm presses of his lips with no other intention than to feel you.

“Okay?” He manages to ask, so quiet and bashful, even, as he feels his cum trickle out of you and onto his lap.

“Mhm,” you smile, finally able to turn in his hold, and the sight of him makes you want to do it all over again; his flushed face, his wide, dark eyes looking back at you in admiration, the disheveled state of his button up. The sleeves pushed up to his elbows are all crinkled, and you let your thumb run over the edge of the fabric before feeling your way up his arm. He smiles, a sleepy state of contentment taking over him and he pulls you onto his chest, keeping you safe, a hand on the back of your head.

The patterns of your breathing match, in and out, slowing down, his heartbeat losing speed under your ear.

He makes a happy noise when you place a chaste kiss on his collarbone, the rain picking up outside, washing down the window behind the see-through curtains. He taps the small of your back three times, and you know this is him telling you he loves you, a tap for each word; so you kiss him three more times, two kisses on those smooth spaces where hair refuses to grow, and once on his lips which he returns gratefully.

Drawing the comforter up over your shoulders, he ensures it’s snug over the two of you. “Go to sleep, sweetheart,” he murmurs, “you deserve it.”

+ taglist: @filthybookworm​ @frannyzooey​ @omgreally​ @kjim16 @anatanotegami​ @redkenobi​ @yeliahk @acrabbybish​​ @battletales​​ @catsnkooks​​ @mitchi-c​​ @xcertaindarkthingsx​​ @ihavenoaesthetic​ @belleropho-n​​ @i-love-marble-hornets​​ @trollsarenotwelcome​​ @tossacoin2yourwitcher​​ @lycheemi​​ ​ @jennacide02 @astroboots​​ @wigwitch​​ @buckypascal​​ @altarsw​ @thirstworldproblemss​ @agent-catfish-kenobi​ @leonieb​ @sleep-tight1​

[writingthingsisdifficult]

Good intentions

Bucky Barnes x reader

Had to divide the story into four parts, and I’m working as fast as I can to finish the rest.

Please don’t hesitate to tell me what you think :) Especially if you like it.

Everybody's alive.

When Natasha catches your reaction to seeing a soaking wet Bucky coming in from the rain, your life becomes unbearable. Nat considers herself a decent matchmaker, but what happens when both her subjects are resisting her attempts?

***

Part 1: Matchmaker

Word count: 4412

It had been raining for weeks. Racing streaks down the glass. Soft drumming against the umbrella. Big, fat drops of water splashing against the pavement, sending shivers through my body whenever they hit my skin. Two in rapid succession on my neck – don't know how, though, my coat collar was pulled up as high as it could go, and my umbrella was larger than average. Then one straight into my ear, which made me squeak in disgust. This had to be an omen.

I shook my umbrella before stepping through the door. No need to be a savage, though from the look of it, I was the only one who cared. A quick nod good morning to Nesta in the reception while making a mental note to call down the cleaning crew. The state of the floor was appalling. Mud and dirt and water – apparently not everyone remembered to wipe their feet before entering the building. And umbrellas all along the wall, dripping on the tiles, creating puddles so large a toddler would happily jump in them.

A long sigh escaped. Time for a stern talk with Nesta again. This was supposed to be a good first impression, not an impression of someone's mudroom. My stomach twisted, this was just the latest in a long string of minor complaints. If she didn't improve soon, I would have to make a note in her file and I hated being strict. Still, it was a part of my job, just like running errands before eight in the morning and longing for the coffee I left in my office. I didn't have to like it.

The elevator pinged. “Hey, Y/N.” Natasha walked out with a smile on her face. Her hair was red again, like flames cascading over her shoulders. Damn, that woman really could carry any hair colour. I nodded and smiled back. “Good morning, Agent Romanov. You're in early. What can I do for you? Love your hair, by the way."

"Thanks. I was wondering if you could help me with something."

I shook off my coat and adjusted the bag on my shoulder. "Of course. What do you need? Let me just –""

The door blew open, banging into the doorstopper before closing behind a sopping wet figure and an umbrella that definitely had seen better days. "Good morning, Y/N. Hey, Nat. Have you seen Clint?" Bucky shook himself, sending a glittering spray of water everywhere.

"No, but check the roof."

The air was knocked straight out of me. I couldn't stop the tiny squeak that tumbled over my lips.  The way his hair stuck to his face did things to me, not to mention how the water glistened on his metal arm. I hadn't felt heat on my face like that since I was seventeen and spilled juice all over my shirt in front of my neighbour Todd.

Swallowing the rest of the rude noises hovering in my throat, I forced a smile and nodded to the elevator. "Saw him by the coffee machine on the third floor earlier, Sargent Barnes." My voice was breathier that usual, and I cursed the weather for calling me out like that, while simultaneously praying to any deities listening that nobody noticed.

"Thanks." He marched to the elevator with a pace that would divide a crowd of people without a word.

Natasha looked between Bucky and me, a devilish smile spreading on her face. Once he was out of earshot, she bumped me with her elbow. “So, Bucky, huh?”

The heat crept up my ears and settled in my temples. Surely I was no more than two seconds from combusting? “What? I don’t… no, I mean –" I drew a big breath and steeled my face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Now, what was it you needed my help with?”

Her eyes locked on mine. "Never mind that… You're a terrible liar."

A good point. I let out a small wheeze and scrunched my eyes shut. "Fine! Yes, Sargent Barnes is a tall drink of water. Is that what you want me to say? Well, yeah, okay. Maybe I do have a thing for him." The defeat was inevitable. Already my intestines were squirming. Nothing good could come from this.

Natasha looked like it was Christmas and her birthday all at once. "I knew it!"

I shrugged, ignoring the rising chill in my chest. How to best deescalate this before it got out of hand? "Well, you are a superspy after all. But please, PLEASE, don't say anything to him. I like my job. Besides, he's a fucking superhero. I'm just… me."

"Just you?" She shook her head lightly and rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, I mean, come on! Look at me!" Holding my arms out, I swayed from side to side. I never liked to draw attention to my body, but apparently she needed the extra visual.

Natasha arched her eyebrow. "I am looking."

She was good, but I couldn't to give up that easily. "Yes, and then you clearly see that I'm ordinary. People like him don't fall for people like me. He's too perfect for that."

"Perf… perfect?" She snorted. "Y/N, Bucky's a mess. He's basically a cucumber with anxiety. Damn, you really have it bad if –"

"I know he has issues. You all do. I'm the one booking everybody's therapy sessions, remember? I'm not talking about his trauma. I'm talking about the fact that he's sweet as a marshmallow and his smile could power a small European country if Stark only found a way to harness its brilliance –"

"And the fact that he's got those broad shoulders and could probably lift and throw a bus if he wanted…"

"And that," I nodded, rubbing the back of my neck to stop that annoying heat from spreading even more. That was a delicious picture, alright. "But I'm nothing special."

"Y/N, sweetie, what are you talking about? You know everything, who's supposed to be where, what we're doing, when we come and go – that's practically a superpower right there. Don't downplay yourself."

The laughter came out dry and humourless. She had to be kidding. Being organised and good at puzzles wasn't exactly rocket science. And besides, I didn't even have a good memory. Without my trusty calendar and phone I'd be running around like Hei-Hei.

"Appreciate your confidence in me, but I don't think so, Nat," I countered and repeated: "Please don't tell him."

She sighed. "I won't."

I tilted my head and put on my best mom-voice. "Promise me."

Her shoulders slumped forward, and she lifted her hand in the air. "I promise I will never tell James Buchanan Barnes about your crush." There was a small pause. "Partypooper!"

"Who's a partypooper?"

I yelped and spun around, looking into Tony's smiling face. "Oh my god, Tony, I mean, Mr Stark." Why did he have to be so stealthy? A big, flashy guy like him ought to be required to announce his arrival with trumpets and drums. Through my galloping heartbeats I noted the glasses were new though, and wondered what kind of new tech they really were. They suited him.

He smirked. “Not the first time a lady has said that to me. But you didn’t answer my question.”

Exhaling, I closed my eyes, just barely resisting the urge to pinch my nose – or maybe kick him in the shin as a diversion. This was going to hell with the express train. “No one. No one's a partypooper.”

“Really?” He turned to Natasha. “Nat?”

I shook my head vigorously, bringing forth all malice I had to my eyes, which I have been told is substantial.

"Y/N has a crush and –"

"Ooh, is it me?" He winked and wiggled his eyebrows.

That made me laugh. "What? Oh, god no." Then I immediately felt bad for my reaction.

"Okay, a little bit insulted, but whatever…"

"She won't let me tell Bucky that she's in love with him," Natasha continued as if she had never been interrupted.

Tony gasped, a look of absolute delight in his eyes.

It was as if the ground disappeared beneath me. A rush of adrenaline almost knocked me off my feet. "Natasha! You promised."

She shrugged and pointed at Tony. "I promised not to tell Bucky. Last I checked, that is not him."

This time I did pinch the bridge of my nose and exhaled deeply, then groaned silently. “Nat!” Even I could hear the desperation in my voice. “Sargent Barnes is a friend. Well, uh, a colleague. Of sorts. I do not -“

“So you didn’t just squeak and burst into flames when he came through that door, huh?” She pointed to the glass door with a grin on her face.

Yeah, this was definitely a torture-the-handler day. Though Natasha was right about my crush, of course, and I wasn't even sure it was just a crush anymore; it had lasted for far too long to be called a crush, I had to keep a professional relationship with all of them.

Truth be told I had had a crush on Bucky since the day we were introduced, but I remembered the exact moment I had fallen in love: it was a chilly spring evening about a year ago. The team had decided to go out to eat, Wanda had discovered a new restaurant downtown, and the food supposedly was to die for. I couldn’t remember what I ate, or if I even liked it, but I remembered the knitted cardigan Bucky wore, the one with the colourful pattern on it. It looked really soft, and I found myself longing to touch it. That wasn’t the moment, though. The exact moment that made me go “Oh shit!” was when I cracked some stupid dad joke, and Bucky unleashed his full laughter on me. Who knew that "Singing in the shower is fun until you get soap in your mouth. Then it's a soap opera," would be my doom? But the sound had stunned me, made me lose my voice for several minutes. If someone had opened my skull at that moment, the only thing they would have found was an empty space and a dial tone - my brain frantically trying to reconnect with my body. If I concentrated I could still hear the ringing in my ears.

I avoided him for a week afterwards - well, tried and failed; my work meant contact with the entire Avengers team at all times - but the mental distance hurt too much to keep up with it. Since then, I allowed the realisation to wash over me, causing me both joy and suffering. And I thought I hid it well. Not well enough, apparently, since Natasha sniffed it out. I resisted the urge to close my eyes and sigh again. However, I couldn’t stop my intestines from curling into a tight ball. She had brought Tony into this after all.

Tony’s eyes shone. It had been a long time since any drama unfurled in the compound. He was practically starved, and this… This was delicious.

Looking between them, I knew this wouldn't end well. "You know what? I'm gonna go set up the briefing. Room 705. Thirty minutes. Don't be late." Fishing the phone out of my pocket, I sent a group text to everyone with time and location. In afterthought the wording in the text might have been a tad too harsh, threatening bodily harm if they were late, but the start of the day warranted some sort of reaction leaking from my brain. I locked eyes with Natasha. "Not. A. Word!"

She nodded, but the grin never left her face.

Tony watched me frantically push the elevator button, and I caught him whispering, not knowing I could still hear him. Or maybe he didn't care. "So what's your plan?"

"What do you mean?"

"Don't you have a plan? You're the resident match-maker here, aren't you?"

Nastasha let out a small laugh. "Do you know why she refuses to do anything about it?"

Tony nodded. “Because she’s professional and a bit afraid for what the people at the top are going to say?”

“No. Well, probably that too, but she thinks Bucky is way out of her league. Something about him being a superhero.” She snorted.

“What?” Tony let out a barking laugh. “Why? Bucky’s like the most timid ex-assassin you can find. I mean, he’s basically a cup of soft serve covered in salt and liquorice."

“I know. We gotta get them together. So, uh, are you in?”

“Uh, yeah! What’s your plan?”

The room finally sealed itself around me and I heard nothing else than the back of my head banging against the mirror wall and F.R.I.D.A.Y. cheerfully announcing what floor I was going to.

Half an hour later I had to step out for a bit to fetch a new cable to the projector, and when I got back, almost everyone were seated. My chest hollowed when I spotted Tony and Natasha sitting together, looking very conspiring indeed.

The urge to either run from the room or break them up rose in my throat, but instead I pulled up a chair next to Sam and focused on my breathing. He was one of the most calming people on the team, and I shamelessly used him as a shield.

Other than the small scare in the beginning, the morning briefing went without hitch. Agent Hill presented the upcoming missions, and I marked my calendar accordingly. Apparently SHIELD had detected a new terrorist group forming in northern Europe, and needed eyes.

Natasha was a given, she could go undetected for longer periods of time, and could take care of herself if necessary. Of course, Clint would come with her. They were an amazing team together, and he would probably go anyway, even if he was assigned to another task. It was better just to let him.

Steve and Sam would step in if it came to that, but would have to keep under the radar until they were needed. Bucky would travel to Europe with the others, but I knew he would set off alone the minute they touched ground in Stockholm. He worked best alone, or so he claimed, and anyway it would be an advantage to spread out. Still, I made a note on my pad to make sure he had everything he needed, and then some. Who knew where his road might lead him.

Bruce and Tony would work together to develop a better algorithm for the surveillance. So far, the terrorist group had evaded SHIELD's best efforts to pin them down. I was actually surprised to learn they didn't even know their name, which made me suspect something big was coming.

The rest of the team was assigned to other, smaller missions, scattered across the States. That way they could easily be reassigned if the situation escalated in Europe.

During the meeting, I kept an extra eye on Natasha and Tony. They sat next to each other, and though I thought I saw them passing notes a couple of times, I didn't want to bring any attention to it. The rest of the group looked oblivious. A sigh of relief escaped me, and Natasha looked up. She nodded imperceptibly towards Bucky, who sat with a bored look on his face and a discarded towel by his feet.

I narrowed my eyes and shook my head, trying my best to stop my ears from buzzing. Suddenly aware of every molecule in the air and trying desperately to ignore the intense weight, I focused all my attention back on Agent Hill’s presentation. Still, Bucky’s presence lingered in the back of my head, and together with the imminent threat from Natasha and Tony, I felt like I was sitting on explosives.

When Maria finally closed her laptop and turned to Director Fury, everybody got up, chatting as if the meeting had been a regular parent-teacher meeting and not a brief on a possible terrorist organisation on the rise.

“Can you believe that people will do things like this?” an agent asked as we all filed out of the room.

“Well, faith is a strong persuader,” I replied with a shrug. “Some are willing to go far for what they believe in.”

“Yeah, but they’re wrong,” the agent continued.

“They’d probably say the same about us,” Sam said, and I nodded.

“There are always two sides to the coin. If not more.”

“But -“

“And then it’s up to us to figure out what to do. We have to look at the big picture. Not everyone is capable of that.” Sam tilted his head with a look of disappointment in his eyes.

The agent huffed and hurried off with a look on his face that either said that he was constipated, or that being schooled by a member of the Avengers was too much for a Wednesday morning.

“Not sure he saw the big picture, Sam.” I shook my head and smiled.

“Don’t think he could. Better hope he doesn’t get promoted soon.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that. He’ll be on desk duty for years still. And I guess you have a little desk duty yourself right now?”

“Well, actually… I was hoping you could do me a favour.”

Uh-oh. That sounded ominous. “Of course. What can I do, what do you need?” My voice rose to mimic the retail job I had before I got lucky enough to join SHIELD's training and ultimately land my dream job.

Sam grimaced. "I gotta go to Louisiana. Just a short trip, couple of days maybe."

"Shit, don't think Director Fury would be too happy about that right now, not to mention the rest of upstairs. You're supposed to be on silent duty until you leave for Sweden."

"Yeah, I know that, it's just… Cass and AJ has been asking me to come visit. And Sarah's getting sick of their nagging. Also, I sorta promised on the phone yesterday. Didn't know there would be a world crisis today."

Smiling softly, I hid the urge to smack my face into the wall. This was going to take a lot of explaining and string-pulling. He was supposed to go no-contact for the duration of the mission, but I hated disappointing the boys. And Sarah was a good woman. She didn't deserve being let down, even though it technically wasn't Sam's fault this time.

"Sam, you're such a softie," I said after some consideration. "Go. I'll figure something out. Just be back before the weekend, okay? And –"

"Yeah yeah, and I'll come in at once if the situation escalates before we're scheduled to head out."

I gave him a crooked smile to disguise the trouble he had just handed me. "Sure. But I was gonna say bring back some of that pecan pie. I've been dreaming about that since last summer."

Sam let out a loud laugh and kissed the top of my head, melting my nervous soul to a gooey puddle. "You're the best. Thanks."

"Fly safe."

"I always do."

"Really now?"

"Oh so that's how it is, huh?"

"That's how it is. Say 'hi' to Sarah for me."

With a short wave, he took off down the corridor, leaving me quietly screaming and already doing the mental gymnastics to find a solution.

***

Departure time was in two days. Everyone was on edge, trying their best to prepare for any eventualities, both inconceivable and expected. After a short meeting with the departure crew to share the last pieces of intel, I felt empty and tired. Missions always affected me more than they should. These people were my friends; if anything were to happen to them, my world would collapse.

Apparently I wasn't the only one feeling a bit drained. No one was in a hurry to leave, and the conversation was hushed and weary.

"You know what we need?" Tony said loudly, slicing through the silence and winking to Natasha. He thought I wouldn't notice, but I did, and the suspicion grew in my chest. What now?

"Pizza!" they said in unison. "We should gather everyone, before we all go."

Tony nudged my arm. "My treat. What do you say?"

Narrowing my eyes, I tilted my head. "…sure."

"Oh, don't be like that. We all need good pizza. Especially today, what with all this rain. Hey, F.R.I.D.A.Y., you know that pizza bakery up the street, the one with the chicken one. Order pizza for everyone. Remember the one with pear, brie, and white sauce. Have it delivered to the lounge."

That did it for me. If he ordered my favourite, I'd be damn sure to eat my part. "When?"

"Uh…" He looked at his watch. "Noon. I'll send out a ping. Don't worry about it."

"Thanks. I do have a ton of things to do to make sure you guys don't die on this trip." I tried to keep it light, but now that the thought had settled in my mind, I had to fight off the tears. It was a miracle I managed to keep the tremble from my voice.

An hour later I tripped over the doorstep to the lounge, surprised to see it was empty except for Tony and Natasha and a huge stack of pizzas. "Where is everybody?" The door clicked behind me, sealing the silence in.

Natasha shrugged. "Late?"

At that moment the door opened again and Bucky sauntered in with a mischievous smile on his face. "Gimme the pizza and nobody gets hurt."

"Jeez, Buck. Remember your manners. There are ladies present." Tony grinned, but opened the top box and helped himself to a slice.

Bucky snickered and rolled his eyes. "Sorry, Y/N," he said with an over-the-top flourish. "I hope you can forgive my insolence." He gestured towards the pizzas. "Ladies first."

My heart did a somersault, but I managed to keep it cool on the outside. "Insolence forgiven," I replied, swallowing a hiccough that lodged itself in my throat, before taking a plate and sifting through the boxes until I found the right one. Loading my plate, I sat down, sinking into the soft cushions. Only thing missing now was some candles and a drink, and I'd be set for the day.

Natasha gave Tony a pointed look. Two minutes later he picked up his phone and half jogged out the door. That was odd. Tony never jogged.

I looked between Natasha and the door, the pizza forgotten halfway between the plate and my mouth. She looked anywhere but at me, but was saved from a confrontation by her phone ringing. "Gotta take this," she muttered. "Can't prepare enough for the trip." She smiled apologetically and left the room. That was a lie, of course. She had full control; all intel was already read and destroyed. And if something new had come up, I would have been notified too.

Suddenly the plate felt heavy in my hand. Maybe it was naïve, but I had expected Natasha and Tony to respect my wishes; after all I had made it absolutely clear that they should leave it, hadn't I? Their amusement and entertainment wasn't worth being an inconvenience to Bucky.

"What's going on?" Bucky asked when the door clicked behind Natasha.

"I… I don't know," I lied haltingly.

Bucky shrugged. "Oh well. Might as well catch up on some paperwork before the flight too. See you later." With one slice between his teeth and another in his hand, he left the room with a friendly wave.

"Sure. See you." I spoke to his back; the glass door had already closed behind him. The lump in my throat grew. Even though Tony had ordered my favourite pizza, I no longer had any appetite. My mouth was dry, and it was a struggle to swallow. In a fit of frustration, I kicked the table, smacking my toe in the process. The pizza slice slid from the plate and landed on my thigh. "Fuck!"

"Ooh, pizza!"

I spun in my seat. Steve had just arrived, and that made me feel a little bit better at least. He was always a laugh.

"Where is everybody?" He looked around and spotted my moping figure, holding an equally sad slice of pizza. "You okay?"

"I guess," I replied, trying to smile and failing miserably. "Everybody else left. The mission, yeah?"

"Right. I thought everything was planned and okayed."

I couldn't bring myself to fill him in on the situation. If he didn't already know, it was nice to have someone neutral by my side. "Yeah, I don't know."

Their scheme was becoming clear; making Bucky spend time with me alone. But it was a failure. Even he thought it was awkward, and he obviously didn't want to be alone with me. Not that I blamed him. If I was him, I'd do the same.

I glanced at my watch. 12.30. Just then Sam, Bruce, Wanda, and Vision spilled into the room, heading towards the pizza like a herd of hungry goats. Slowly my appetite returned too, and half an hour later the blow to my heart was a painful memory pushed to the back of my mind by excellent pizza and wonderful friends.

Later that day I ran into Tony on the way to the garage. He tried to slip past me, but had to stop when I blocked the door, arms crossed over my chest and puffing myself up as much as I could. "Seriously, Tony! What did you expect to happen, huh? That I'd just throw myself in his arms because we were alone? Because newsflash: I've got both self-control and decency. Do you really think I've never been alone with him before?"

At least he had the decency to look thoroughly chastised, and he mumbled something inaudible I thought maybe sounded like an apology.

No way he was getting away with a tiny one. "What was that? I couldn't quite hear you."

"It was Nat's idea," he said, trying a smirk that didn't work at all.

"I very much doubt that," I replied, dragging a hand over my eyes. "Do I have to call Pepper? I didn't think so," I added when he shook his head. "Do better! Now excuse me. I have a lot of work to do to ensure you actually don't die on this mission." With a final, exaggerated frown, I turned and marched out of the room, ignoring the samba in my chest.

Part 2: Eel infested waters

[kujakumai]

cleaned up old WIP, 2800 words, AU where Yami Bakura succeeds in switching hosts in DK and Mokuba makes friends with an evil ghost. Not going to be continued but it literally would not leave my brain alone until I finished it.

Things were not going according to plan.

The plan was to take control of a soulless puppet, an easy vessel incapable of interfering with his ends. He had the vessel, had accomplished that much, but he was not expecting the pharaoh and his little friends to succeed and convince Pegasus to give everyone their souls back. So now not only was there a second person in this body he had to keep suppressed, but now he was stuck impersonating a child, smiling through an awkward reunion and then placed onto a helicopter next to a gangly high school student who was watching him like a hawk.

The spirit-that-was-no-longer-Yami-Bakura knew that he was supposed to be Mokuba, but he did not remember the tall one's name. K-something. He had a stupid jacket and hardly took his eyes off him the entire ride, as if he thought his little brother was going to disappear in a puff of smoke when he wasn't looking. Annoying. Infuriating. Luckily it did not seem he wanted to talk, or at least accepted silence. No one expects recent kidnapping victims to say much, which was a boon. A little dazed, a little quiet, a little off, and no one really found it unusual.

They dropped off the pharaoh and his friends, and finally landed at a gaudy and ostentatious house so large it took him a second to realize it was a home at all, an absurd monument to decadence with grounds full of ugly topiaries. Wealth, then. Perhaps this wouldn't be so bad. He could work with this. The rich kid in the stupid coat quietly held his hand the entire walk up the driveway, until they entered a foyer just as gilded and obscene as the outside had been.

No, things were not going to plan, and playing grade-schooler was awkward and an insult to his dignity, and he was farther away from the other millennium items as he ever had been. He would have to grit his teeth through it until he could figure out the next step. In the meantime, perhaps, enjoy some amenities.

Richie rich sighed, relaxed his shoulders the moment they got inside. He looked at who he thought was his little brother and gave him a small, exhausted but genuine smile. He struggled with what to say next.

"Mokuba," he said, "I have to check on a few things in my office. See what kind of damage they did. Do you want to come with me?"

"No." Finally, a chance to be out of this idiot's sight.

This answer seemed to surprise him, a twitch of skepticism. "Will you be okay by yourself?"

He nodded. Keep answers short, when you're impersonating.

His face betrayed more skepticism, concern, and the tiniest hint of disappointment. As if rich kid himself was the one who was scared to be alone in his own house. He accepted the answer, though, to the spirit's relief.

Rich kid bent down and pulled him into a tight hug and ruffled his hair. "We'll get something special for dinner, okay? And ice cream."

"I do like ice cream." This was true. Ryou Bakura almost never bought ice cream, and when he did it was the stupid healthy kind that everyone knew shouldn't even really qualify as ice cream, which was another reason he was a terrible host. That and the fact that he was startlingly pale and had the upper body strength of a limp noodle and the personality of skim milk. This would be better, even if he had to deal with the abrupt drop in height.

Rich kid headed off towards the staircase with another tired but trying-to-be-reassuring smile, and it was then that the spirit of the ring felt an annoyance in the back of his brain. A presence. A scratching, biting, flailing presence, screeching mad, which he had been suppressing for a while now but finally broke through.

get out get out get out get out give it back its MINE get out

The host, awake. What a bother. More rambunctious than Bakura, then? No matter. He could handle a child.

that was MY hug and MY headpat and MY big brother and you can't have them he's been gone for ages and they're mine not yours get out get out get out

The spirit pushed back, ignored him. Shush. He had planned to hold this body alone, and he did not intend to go back to sharing. If you're good, I might let you have it back for a little while later.

shut up go away go away go away go AWAY

And then Mokuba Kaiba did something, something the spirit was not accustomed to or expecting at all, something which Ryou Bakura had never been willing or able to do. He shoved, violently, and the spirit of the ring was ripped out of control with some amount of panic.

"SETOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!"

Why you insolent little--

Seto Kaiba was not aware of the mental turf war happening over his little brothers body. What he did see was his brother scream his name and fall down, and the whole room echoed with a metal clatter as his briefcase fell on the floor and he ran towards him.

--

The ring had been discarded unceremoniously to a side table, and not-Bakura-and-not-Mokuba-either had no choice but to wait and observe, as a pediatrician on a sudden housecall shined lights in the boy's eyes and rich kid, who the spirit had since gleaned was named Seto Kaiba, looked on in worry.

"You said you heard a voice?" The doctor asked.

"Uh-huh. I think it lives in the necklace."

"You got that thing at Pegasus's house?" Kaiba asked, in disbelief.

"I don't remember. I was just wearing it when I woke up."

"What did the voice say?" the doctor continued, professionally ignoring any talk about magic necklaces.

"Not a lot. It was kind of mean."

"I see." She turned to Kaiba. "He's fine, physically. You might want a psychologist." and Seto Kaiba made what could politely be referred to as A Face. This was not what he wanted to hear, this was news that worried and annoyed him in equal measure, and to some degree was news he had half-expected.

"He's had a rough few months. I'll look into it." and she was dismissed, and Mokuba hopped down from the counter.

"Can we order pizza?" he asked, with big pleading eyes.

Kaiba watched him with dry amusement. "Mokuba, you can have anything you want from any restaurant in a forty mile radius."

"And I want pizza. Real pizza, from somewhere that doesn't also serve caviar."

"Cheap pizza?"

He nodded very seriously. "The grossest greasiest cheapest."

"I can do that. Anything else you want?"

Mokuba's eyes lit up, and soon he was dragging Kaiba by the hand towards somewhere else in the house. "I got to this really hard level in my game I can't get past and I wanted to see if you could beat it, and I found this really cool video I wanted to show you, and I got a really good report card you never saw, and--" and months worth of pent up requests were tumbling out rapid fire, and Kaiba was smiling with affection and some amount of relief.

Loud and clingy, then, was the normal and expected behavior. The spirit of the ring made note of this, as he lie abandoned.

--

The ring was still sitting on a side table, in Mokuba's bedroom, apparently because no one knew what to with it or thought it mattered much. This was a problem. The spirit couldn't do anything without a host, and now everyone was suspicious, these stupid rich people worried too much and paid too much attention.

He was forced to sit there all night, pondering about how he was going to get out of this mess, when at one or two in the morning he observed Mokuba wake up, and rub his eyes, and hop out of bed. He did not turn the light on, but he did check the time, and reach under his bed to retrieve what appeared to be a small backpack. He took it with him as he moved quietly towards the door, and the spirit saw his chance.

Hey, kid. He was near enough to speak into his head. Maybe this wasn't a dead end.

"You!" Mokuba stopped in his tracks and looked right at the ring.

Yes, me. This could be salvaged, he thought, concocting a plan. This was a child. Play friendly ghost and imaginary friend. Surely it would not be hard to weasel himself into the good graces of a sixth grader.

Mokuba glared at the ring with suspicion. "I don't think Seto believed me when I said you could talk, but I knew it." He picked it up delicately by the string to examine.

Where on earth are you going at this time of night?

Mokuba was the current host, technically, so there was a connection, and 11 year olds are not particularly used to or adept at hiding their own thoughts, especially inside their own heads. The answer, if not in words but in abstract concept, was provided instantly as it bubbled to mind. He was going to the kitchen, as he did once or twice a week, not their personal kitchen but the house staff kitchen, where he would move a chair to stand on the counter to reach the very back of the highest shelf of the third cupboard to the left, which was where one of the cleaning staff kept a pile of chocolate so he could cheat on his diet without his wife knowing, a fact Mokuba knew through surreptitious eavesdropping. Mokuba's end was to steal just enough of it that he wouldn't be noticed, and add it to a stash of snacks and other shiny trinkets currently hidden in the bottom of a pile of legos in his closet.

...You steal food to hide in your closet? Why would a child who lived in a three-story mansion need to steal?

Mokuba was only mildly perturbed by the fact that someone had just read his mind. He was mainly curious, now. "Our dad didn't like junk food, so I always took stuff to keep around." he explained, "I guess I don't really have to anymore, 'cuz Seto will let me have whatever I want, but--" he faltered, unable to finish or give a reason.

There wasn't a reason, and Mokuba knew that. There was no need to sneak or stash or steal anymore, but he kept doing it, irrationally, for reasons that confused him, a complicated swirl of things a child could not name or understand but were very easy for the spirit to read. Fear; compulsion; habit; the illusion of safety; the sense that your life was precarious, unstable; a need to exert control over your surroundings. It was not the food or the stealing that mattered, but of the hiding, of having something they could not take away from him.

Mokuba didn't understand any of that, because he was 11 and 11 year olds don't understand why they do anything. He just knew he liked sweets and hated people telling him what to do and that having bags of chips and other people’s lost jewelry at the bottom of an old toybox made him feel better.

Can I come with you?

"No! You tried to take control of me!"

Yes, but you kicked me out, and you'd probably be able to do it again, so I would be stupid to try. I also like chocolate, you see, and it's very boring to be stuck here on your desk.

"Can you even eat? You're a necklace."

I can when I borrow a body.

"You tried to take over me so you could eat chocolate? I'm not stupid enough to believe that."

That and other things. I can't do very much at all, while stuck in the ring. No food, no sunshine, no running around. It's no fun to be without a body, which is why I am occasionally driven to steal one. Terribly sorry about that. he added, in his most pathetic-sounding tone, Please? I don't have anyone else to talk to.

Mokuba was hesitant, but clearly found the fact of his existence too interesting to ignore. "Fine." He picked up the ring and dropped it unceremoniously into his backpack, which had a dragon on it.

Not trust yet, but tolerance and curiosity. One step at a time.

You shouldn't go barefoot, you know. Socks will be quieter if you're trying not to get caught.

"I didn't ask you."

So Mokuba descended down the stairwell, in the dead quiet and dark of the Kaiba Mansion, with no flashlight because he knew it well enough to navigate blindfolded. The place was decadent in the ugly way rich people's houses were, luxury but without taste, soft carpets and gilded banisters.

Mokuba had not quite realized yet how to think at the ring, so he spoke in a low whisper. "What are you, anyway?"

A ghost. So much more complicated than that, but simple words were suitable for children.

"How'd you end up a ghost in a necklace?"

I died, and then someone put me in a necklace.

"That's not an answer." he followed up, "Do all dead people become ghosts?"

No. Just sometimes, maybe, if the way they died was especially violent or gruesome or terrible.

Mokuba frowned. He had caught on remarkably quickly to guarding his own head, but the spirit could tell he didn't like this answer.

This was delicate, but he risked a push. Was there someone you had in mind?

Mokuba said nothing. He reached the staff kitchen on the lowest floor, and opened the door, slow and careful. He was deciding whether to say anything, as he climbed up as quietly as he could and reached far into the back of the cupboard, scrabbling.

"Our dad killed himself last year. Jumped out a window." He finally said, hopping down with his spoils. He said this the same way one might dolefully report the milk had gone bad. Unfortunate but boring.

You don't sound very sad.

"Nah, he sucked. And he never liked me." he said, "Seto was really really upset though. He was pretending not to be, but I could tell." Now there were feelings there, big and weird and sad and clinging ones. For reasons the spirit could not discern, the simple phrase ‘Seto was upset’ carried with it more weight, a thousand million times more weight, than news of a father's tragic death by defenestration. "I hope he's not a ghost. I don't wanna see him again."

Probably not.

Mokuba sat down cross-legged on the kitchen floor, unwrapped candy in silver foil. "You really can't do anything from in the necklace? Like, ghost stuff? Make things float or anything?"

No. It is a bit like being trapped in a very small box.

Mokuba mulled this over for a little while. "If you wanted to borrow a body to do fun stuff, you could have just asked."

Really?

He nodded. "Not being able to eat chocolate sounds lame. It'd be mean to just leave you like that." He put one chocolate into his mouth and dumped the rest in the backpack, where they covered the ring unceremoniously. More indignities. "Not in front of my brother, though. And you have to give it back whenever I say so."

...I could agree to such a compromise. Your candy haul is impressive, by the way.

"Thanks!" He grinned, emanating genuine pride. No one had ever complimented him for stealing before.

Tragic, the work of great thieves. How the very best of it can never be bragged about, the most impressive of skills gone unnoticed by nature, how the very success of a perfect crime relies on keeping your mouth shut about it. An unappreciated art, where even mastery gains you no respect.

You don't care that this poor man has to go out and buy twice as much food to make up for what you steal?

"No, he's a jerk. One time when I was six they confiscated my gameboy, so I went to steal it back and he caught me and told my dad and I got in huge trouble. So every day for a week I snuck down here and moved his keys to a different place so he couldn't find them. They were all so mad at him for losing them all the time, and he thought he was crazy."

Why was your gameboy confiscated?

"Don't remember. I think I bit someone at school." he shrugged, "They probably deserved it, though."

Mokuba Kaiba. he said, I think you and I are going to be excellent friends.

"Okay. Do ghosts watch cartoons?"

[lunaastoir]

cute things i think the genshin characters would do

characters included: diluc, kaeya, venti, and albedo 

****minor lore spoilers for diluc!****

an: i’m thinking of making this into a series bc this was such an adorable concept to write so lmk if you’re interested 👀 -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

diluc 

sorry kind of starting off with something a little sad 

i think diluc would have a habit of rubbing his vision 

ok seems kinda dumb at first but let me elaborate: 

after the death of his father, diluc was quite obviously devastated 

he basically withdrew into himself after letting all the grief, pain, and rage flood his senses

i think during this time of grieving, he would’ve developed this habit of running the pads of his fingers across his vision to calm himself down 

(v similar to katara from atla) 

since his father had always been proud of diluc’s vision, the thought of touching something that reminded him of his father has always been able to bring him some sort of relief no matter how short lived

it serves as a constant memory of his dad and i think being able to have that kind of connection - no matter how small would hold a significance to him 

stressed? you’ll see his fingers dance across his vision as the crease between his eyebrows gradually loosens 

ok here’s a bonus habit (bc the previous one was sad) 

whenever he’s bartending at angel’s share, he always flips the bottles in this cool bartending way before pouring the drinks 

like the whole shabang - flips in the air, shakes it in a way that the drink foams just right 

people are usually v surprised when they see this bc woah mans has got some sKILLS 

but also bc he’s known for being pretty serious and reserved so seeing a “trick” is kind of breaking the stoic image they have of him 

after he’s done pouring the drinks he’s also really precise about closing the bottles 

he makes sure that the caps are on tightly and that nothing is leaking (which ig is another reason why he does flips with them so he can make sure that the bottles are tightly closed) 

yes he’s rich but he also wants to make sure the drinks don’t go bad bc 1) kind of a loss if they do and 2) his customers deserve the best 

sweet man pls protect him <3 

kaeya

when he’s sitting down at his desk, he brings his legs up so he can sit on his chair criss- cross applesauce 

since he’s in his office and the only other person who’s in there with him is jean, he feels like he can drop the suave, charming cavalry captain facade he puts on when he’s in public and just dial it down slightly to who he really is in that moment 

jean doesn’t say a word the entire time even tho she quite obviously notices 

don’t get me wrong, he’s still the smooth talking kaeya but just,,, more relaxed and comfortable?? if that makes sense 

so since he’s a lot more comfortable in his office, he usually folds his legs into his chair bc damn they hurt from walking around all day

this is kinda dumb but i also think he has a lot of ink stains on his hands from writing so whenever he sees a fresh one he just likes to stamp it onto a piece of paper 

usually that piece of paper ends up being an unimportant report that goes to jean 

dw he also has a bunch of pretty small towels in his bottom drawer that he uses to wipe his hands on bc the public can’t see the pretty cavalry captain w ink stains!! the world would end!! 

oH kind of a side note but i also think he would keep a small folded up picture of something klee drew him in his pocket 

he thinks it’s very sweet and he periodically takes it out just to look at it soft for this man 

last one for kaeya but since he wears boots that have the little lip on the bottom (not really a heel but enough to make some noise) he makes sure to always try his best to walk quietly around the streets of mondstadt at night 

if anyone catches him doing it he’ll wave it off and say something like “oh me? i’m just practicing my stealth - it comes in handy when you have to sneak up on enemies you know?” but in reality that’s just bs 

he really just doesn’t wanna risk waking people up <3 

venti

this adorable man is obviously notorious for drinking 

he loves alcohol!! i mean he’s the anemo archon of the city of wine and freedom so is anyone really surprised 💀

anyways venti always jokes abt not having any mora (he really doesn’t he’s not wrong) but he always makes sure to pay his tab at angel’s share 

the only reason diluc lets him drink sm is because at the end of the day, venti always comes through w the mora 

he really is a talented bard so everything he makes in singing and composing music for other people to listen to always goes straight to angel’s share (debatable if that’s for the best or not but i’ll leave that one to you) 

so yeah <3 basically venti pays back his tabs even tho he’s an archon since he doesn’t want people to experience a loss bc of him 

it’s the archon nature coming out but also the venti nature bc he’s a sweet boy 

anyways getting onto the actual habit 🕺

he has a tendency to skip/hop regardless of wherever he’s going 

he uses his anemo elemental skill a lot while doing this just he can feel a light breeze whenever he skips around 

i also think he carries around extra bard strings in his hat bc he thinks it’s a cool party trick to take them out and be like tada i have extra strings no need to worry!!! 

people are usually not that amused but he does it anyway 

also yeah uh those strings sometimes fall out when he’s skipping 💀 

he’ll be hopping and suddenly bOOM they fall out, he loses them, a kitten by the name of prince takes them, and he has to ask for help to find his strings (i believe this is exactly how venti lost his strings to prince during the windblume festival and no i will not take any criticism and if venti says something different he is lying 🔪)

also has a habit of putting his hair into a bun sometimes!!! 

he loves his pigtails but he finds that he gets bored of them occasionally and his hair needs a break from its wavy tresses so he just plops it into a bun instead 

so so cute 10/10 hairstyle he can do my hair 

anyways love this man thanks for coming home <3 

albedo

i had a feeling i would kind of have a hard time w albedo since he is a little hard to read so i hope this is ok LMFAO 

he has paint stains. everywhere. no you cannot change my mind. 

they are subtle tho i will give him that 

you can’t notice that anything is amiss until you really pay attention and then you’ll start to see the pretty pastels and greens of the sunset he was painting up on dragonspine softly smeared across his clothes 

very rarely you’ll see a cute swipe of paint across his cheek or neck and it’s honestly adorable 

he was probably pushing his hair out of his face while he was painting and some excess paint on his finger landed on his cheek :,) 

he doesn’t really care tbh he thinks it’s just a part of him and it really isn’t that noticeable so he just leaves it 

also!!! since he is a big alchemist and he’s constantly working on labs and experiments i think he would accidentally misplace a lot of his written work 

he seems very organized but w someone as intellectual as him w his brain running miles a minute, i’m sure he has definitely forgotten where he’s put stuff away 

so!! in order to help him remember, he has little notes across his lab detailing where everything is 

if he was working on something and he immediately has to put it on hold bc something came up (klee came in demanding attention or sucrose needs help) then he’ll quickly jot down a note and stick it to his desk so he’ll remember when he comes back just in case he forgets 

sucrose as a result has noticed A LOT of notes across the lab and it’s simultaneously funny and endearing 

“started experiment with sweet flowers to try and turn them into a youth elixir: papers --> on the desk right next to klee’s photo” 

final point: he lets klee braid his hair sometimes if she wants to 

she doesn’t really know how given how young she is so she ends up messing up but albedo always walks her patiently through the steps again 

always makes time for klee no matter what bc he really does care a lot abt her :,) 

i love him sm pls 

[h34rtizuku]

𝔭𝔦𝔱𝔶 𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱𝔶

i hate angst without happy endings, but i’m also self-destructive. therapy is expensive, but ripping your own heart out and bearing your insecurities into a full-fledged story for you and others to read? free.

warnings : angst without a happy ending, insecurities, jealousy, mayhaps toxic behavior?? idk if ur looking for a good time, this isn’t for you bestie <3 also i might misspell uraraka’s name wrong a few times, i’ll fix them later :*

being quirkless had its advantages. with such a small number of us being born without powers, it left a lot of the mundane jobs open.

which is why, as soon as pro-hero deku opened his agency, i came to him with the request to be his assistant.

on the daily, he had people coming up to him asking for internships or to be his sidekick. but he never had anyone ask to be his assistant.

being the number one hero often meant that every day things, things one may take for granted or deem insignificant became just another list of things on the busy man’s to-do list.

therefore the appeal of having someone file his paper work and run to get him coffee in the morning was great enough to hire me.

and i was glad he did.

this is what i have been working for since i was a first year in high school. after watching the freckled boy break limb after limb to defeat his opponent.

yeah, i saw it as irresponsible and stupid that he had to break his own body to save others. but i was willing to overlook it.

my one goal during my remaining years of high school and up to college was that wherever that little green haired boy went, i would follow.

and that reigned true as his assistant. i would shuffle after him like a duckling following it’s mother, wherever he needed me.

if he needed me in a briefing to take notes for him, i was there. if he needed me to put in overtime to help him file the last minute paperwork, i was there. if he wanted a particular pastry from a specific bakery half way across town, i was there.

izuku was never mean, or demanding. always thanking me profusely for anything i ever did for him. leaving me to remind him that this was my job, and any way to make his life easier was good enough for me.

but maybe i should have held onto those blushed cheeks and crinkled eyes as he thanked me for the coffee that he didn’t even know he needed, for a just a little bit longer.

you know how a child will open a new toy on christmas and it quickly becomes their new favorite toy? playing with it non-stop, taking it wherever they go. until one day, they grow bored of it and never touch it again as it grows dusty at the bottom of their toy bin.

i know izuku wasn’t doing it on purpose, he didn’t have an intentionally mean bone in his body. i guess you could say, some other toys came around and took his attention away.

and that toy, was a particularly difficult mission in collaboration with uravity’s agency.

the two spent long hours cooped in his office as they went over notes, plans, intel, etc. until the conversation melted into talk about the old days and the wonderful memories they had together in high school.

i went to work the following days with absolutely no energy to handle whatever would be thrown at me. i hadn’t been able to get much sleep, as when i closed my eyes the only thing i could see was the look in his eyes when he saw her.

my patience was already thin given the events of the most recent week, but when the printer started malfunctioning leaving me unable to fax the papers izuku wanted me send, you could say that was the first domino.

i swatted and kicked and pressed any button on the stupid machine. telling myself i was merely trying to get to stupid thing to work, but deep down i knew that the printer was just my temporary punching bag. an outlet to unleash my anger and emotions onto something instead of letting them fester inside me.

so when one of izuku’s sidekicks came by, giving a snarky comment about my behavior, i was able to brush it off with a roll of my eyes and an equally snippy comment back.

but as the hunk of plastic remained steady in its plan to ruin my day, the lack of sleep and lingering resentment started to bubble within me once more.

i heard footsteps behind me and a joking voice say, “having a bit of trouble are we?”

if it weren’t for the white hot anger buzzing in my ears i may have been able to identify the voice before i lashed out on them. but we already established this was not my day.

so as my hands moved to clutch the machine below me, most likely to restrain my abuse to merely verbal instead of physical. i spit out, “listen i’m fucking trying okay? so how about you get off my ass and do something useful.”

i turned around to face who i thought would be another sidekick sent to push my buttons. but i instead came face-to-face with the green haired man himself.

eyes blown wide, mouth agape in shock, a light blush dusted under his freckles as he fought to handle the situation the best way he could.

but i beat him to it with a deep bow and an endless flow of apologies, opting to only blame my anger on the malfunctioning piece of junk behind me and not the several other reasons i was plotting murder in my head.

with a gentle smile and a soft chuckle he placed his hand to the back of his head, rubbing at the baby jade hairs of his undercut. “i see. bad days happen to the best of us.” he replied, his voice like honey.

i became drunk on the minor interaction he was giving me, bringing me back to the beginning days at this job where we would spend late nights trying to keep each other awake under the only singular yellow light as we finished paperwork. or where sometimes he’d invite me to spend lunch with him as he felt he’d enjoy the company.

i got lost in the intricacies of his face as he tampered with the printer. thin eyebrows furrowed in concentration, bottom lip captured between his thick scarred fingers as he muttered to himself.

i fell in a trance, locked on the slope of his button nose, his gemstone eyes, and chubby caramel cheeks dusted in freckles.

he looked essentially like the same boy i saw on the screen all those years ago, yet matured and hardened by the realities of life.

i wanted nothing more than to reach out and protect him any way my small quirkless body could. to be there for him the same way he was for everyone else.

he eventually got the printer to work with a boyish smile on his face as he told me that despite the good roughing up i gave the machine, he was able to locate and handle the issue. “next time, skip the punching and come find me, yeah? i’ll help with any problems you face.” he joked as he made his way into his office to resume his work.

i didn’t know it was possible to fall harder for that man, but he proved with every day of his existence that the impossible didn’t apply to him.

i was finally able to get some sleep the next few nights as my eyelids filled with the blush on his cheekbones and his gaze of concentration.

but my trip to cloud 9 didn’t last very long as the occasional meeting with uraraka became trips to her agency, and occasional meetings in civilian clothes to civilian places, like coffee shops and corner stores.

to anyone else, those would read as dates. to me, they read as dates. but izuku assured the gossiping sidekicks that it was strictly professional ~ nothing more, nothing less.

i knew that i would end up with more fits of restlessness and sleepless nights as i pictured the two of them laughing over a cup of coffee. so i sought out a replacement.

a moment. a look. a sentence.

anything directed at me that would choke out the ugly thoughts and images my brain would show me of the two of them together.

so that afternoon as i brought him his lunch, i placed the box safely onto the table beside him as he continued skimming through the papers littered across the desk.

he muttered a small ‘thank you’ but it wasn’t enough. as my hand moved to place his drink that i held in my other hand next to his food, a different idea popped in my head.

my hand moved faster than my brain could register what it had just planned to do. squeezing just enough for the lid to pop off and slip from my fingers to tumble into his lap.

as soon as the liquid and ice hit his lap he flew up from his seat and away from his desk.

my hands flew up to my mouth as a string of apologies fell from my lips. eyes watering in guilt as they moved around the room trying to locate something to soak up the mess with.

“i am so sorry, my fingers slipped and before i knew it i had lost control of the cup. i-i can’t tell you how sorry i am.” i rambled as i took my blazer off to wipe at the wet stains starting to form at the bottom of his teal suit.

“hey, hey, hey.” he said softly, taking my tinier hands into his large and battered ones. warmth enveloped my clutched sticky hands as he gently urged me to stand from my crouching position in front of him.

“it was an accident. no harm, no foul.” he said with a soft smile.

i should feel bad, as it wasn’t entirely an accident. but the warm and gentle look in his eyes made what little guilt i felt crumble away.

his thumbs rubbing soft circles to my skin as he worked to get the tears to stop streaming from my eyes was enough to get me to sleep like a baby for a good 2 weeks.

until it became a cycle. he would spend too much time around uraraka, and then i would do something all in the name of garnering his attention back on me.

was it wrong of me to do, to take advantage of his kindness? to take advantage of the fact that he was naive to my true intentions? maybe.

but i felt i deserved it. i felt i deserved to be looked at the same way he looked at her.

i wasn’t any different than she was. with the way she used her big brown eyes to pull him in. or the way her cute behavior made him blush. or the way her sweet way of talking made him laugh.

i can’t be her, or compare to her. so i found my own way around it. and no one could fault me for doing so. they just couldn’t.

at the end of the mission, uravity decided to throw a party in celebration of their win. a nice formal gathering, with everyone she had involved.

when izuku pulled me aside one late night to tell me that he was extending the invitation to me felt akin to a marriage proposal.

i wasn’t involved much in the case, merely being used as the one who provided them their lunch on their long meeting days. or filing and organizing the paperwork and notes that they would compile. i wasn’t out in the field, breaking bones like izuku or saving lives like uraraka.

i didn’t deserve to go, but i didn’t care. izuku had invited me personally and damn it, i was gonna be there.

yet, i shouldn’t have gone.

i shouldn’t have spent the hours on my makeup. i shouldn’t have enlisted the help of my best friend to do my hair as i gushed about how izuku had personally invited me, how he was the most perfect man ever, and how i was undoubtedly in love with him.

i shouldn’t have spent the week leading up to the event going from shop to shop trying to find the prettiest dress that was just the exact color of his eyes. i shouldn’t have spent about half my paycheck on said dress when i found it.

i shouldn’t have decided to face my fears and step out of my comfort zone to join a group of heroes that i knew were old classmates of izuku’s as they whispered about something that clearly was a raving topic.

because then i wouldn’t have heard how izuku was planning on confessing to uraraka. i wouldn’t have heard how this mission caused old high school feelings to rekindle. i should have known my place.

and that was far away from here, from the hero scene. i should have grown up to be an accountant or a chef.

when my father took me to get that checkup when i was 5, to confirm that there truly resides no quirk inside me.

i should have left it at that.

when i was riding my bike that day as a first year and i saw the group of boys huddled around a screen as they tuned into the u-a sports festival, i should have kept riding.

as maybe it would have saved me a lot of pain.

i backed away slowly, heels tapping against the tile floor as i hurried out of the building.

i didn’t realize how suffocated i felt until the chilly autumn hair brushed my face and into my lungs.

my whole body felt hot, i felt numb. i stumbled onto the sidewalk as i looked into the dark azure sky glittered with stars.

the tears finally spilled from my eyes as the stars muddled together into a messy blur. my stomach swirled and tensed as pit of nausea sunk in my stomach.

my chest heaved as it tried to process the crisp cold air into oxygen, but my throat was too tight to let much in.

i gasped and sobbed as my back hit the brick behind me, my legs wobbling unable to carry my weight much longer.

i slid into a crouched position as my tears mixed with the black of my mascara. streaming in pools down my cheeks, neck, and chest.

in the midst of my sobbing and heaving, i called my friend who was still at my apartment awaiting details of that night when i came home.

knowing it was far too early for me to be calling her she picked up the phone with confusion. it didn’t take much words from me, not like i gave her much, to convince her that she needed to come pick me up.

as she hung up the phone, my hand slipped from my ear, falling limp to my side as i placed my head into my other arm resting atop my knees.

this was inevitable and i knew it. no matter how many ways i was able to manipulate a sweet glance from him, it didn’t mean anything.

izuku was nice to everybody. sweet to everyone. kind to anyone.

but with her, it was different. he treated her that way, not because he had to, but because he wanted to.

they had years of memories, of laughs. they were perfect for each other, both smart, and kind, and always looking to help others. never acting selfishly or for personal gain.

they shared soft touches like they did old stories. they looked at each other with the same respect and admiration.

i was wrong. uraraka and i are nothing alike. she didn’t have to beg izuku to look at her like she hung the moon, he did so without asking.

unbeknownst to me, as i was manipulating izuku into these fabricated moments of gentle gazes and kind words, i was manipulating myself.

lying to the deepest parts of me that knew that this wasn’t real. that i wasn’t her. that he didn’t think of us the same way.

to him, uraraka is an old friend, who views the world the same way he does, who shares his same passions, who built her quirk to do some good within this world.

to him, i was a coffee-getter, the girl who knew his lunch orders like the back of her hand, the girl who filed his papers. the quirkless little fangirl who practically begged him to give her a job under him.

i heard the metal door open and snap shut announcing that someone was now outside with me. however, i just assumed it was a party-goer stepping outside for a smoke or a phone call so i didn’t bother to look up.

i also wasn’t in the mood for if the person happened to be a drunk girl who was ready to become my therapist as she saw me crouched on the sidewalk wishing to become one with the cement and simply cease to exist.

“there you are, i was wondering where you went?”

i would have taken the amateur therapist over this.

the voice belonged to izuku, dripping with sugar and default kindness.

if i could become one with the bricks just a little bit faster that would be great.

“hey, are you alright?” his tone became worried but i still didn’t dare to look up from my arms.

“do you feel sick? did something happen? do i need to take you home?” there he goes, into hero mode. ready to drop anything to help anyone facing the slightest of inconveniences.

“please just leave me alone.” i mumbled, throat tight and voice wavering as i try to hold the tears that still remain to fall.

“what did you say? i didn’t quite hear you.” he said softly, gently setting his large hands onto my exposed shoulder.

they should feel like welcoming warmth, but instead they felt blistering hot as i shoved them away as quickly as i could.

“i said leave me alone.” i said, slightly louder as i no longer was stuffed in my arms and knees.

he immediately saw the mess my face was in, i could tell by the way he quickly reverted fully into deku.

“hey, what’s wrong? whatever it is, i can help. didn’t i say you could come to me whenever you ne-“

“oh my god just stop! i can’t take it anymore.” i snapped, finally able to look him in the face.

but not for long as i saw the same look on his complexion as the first time i snapped at him.

“you’re too fucking nice. leaving you vulnerable for people to take advantage of you. giving them a reason to be selfish.”

“i dont-“ he tried to start but i cut him off.

“i don’t need a hero, izuku. there are people you just can’t save.”

as he worked to wrap his head around what was happening, my friend pulled up in my getaway car.

i bent down and grabbed my purse, but before i could fully escape this night, izuku grabbed my wrist causing me to stare into his eyes.

now lit aflame with desperation, “please just tell me what’s wrong. let me help you.” he encouraged softly.

but i wasn’t going to fall for it, not again.

i wasn’t gonna be played for the fool as i took the soft look in his eyes for anything but the gaze of a hero hoping to add another save to their statistics.

“god you never know when to quit!” i yelled as i yanked my wrist back. “and i hate that i-“

loved that about you?

no, love that about you.

i shook my head, thankful that for once my brain caught my actions before i spilled and made a mess again.

i walked quickly to the car, opening the passenger door almost as fast in hopes that within its metal sanctuary i could finally escape this hell.

“y/n- i-“

“mr. midoriya.” i just about whispered, my energy long since drained.

he laughed gently and i cursed the way my heart squeezed a little at the sound.

still head over heels for the angelic sound.

“you haven’t called me that in a long-“

“i quit.”

“w-what?” he muttered in disbelief.

i wouldn’t believe it either, not after the way i came to him nearly 4 years ago saying i would even be willing to clean toilets if he asked me to, so long as i got to work for him.

“i quit.” i repeated.

“you don’t mean that.”

he’s right i didn’t, not really.

hot tears started to dribble as my lower lip puckered in a sour quiver.

“no i do, sir.” i shook. “i will send someone to collect my things on monday.”

and with that i closed the door.

“drive.” i whispered to my friend who after a moment of looking at me, trying to read me, silently put the car into drive and started forward.

leaving izuku behind to stumble after the car, mouth muttering, trying to form any sort of sentence or sense.

but i couldn’t see him, knowing not to look at the mirrors situated on the side of the vehicle.

for they too are liars, as objects in the mirror are farther than they appear.

*** my little blue bitch working overtime

🧼 also mayhaps “soap” by melanie martinez fits this story… unintentionally ~ but if i’m wrong it’s cuz i haven’t listened to it in a while

[americasmarauders]

Hey Luiza!! Ok so I don’t know if this is too big of an ask BUT would you maybe consider, if you’re comfortable with it, writing up (from prompt list 1) #24 that leads into #11 with Tim Drake?

author's note: has this been sitting in my ask box for, what, 4 months? yes it has. I'm deeply sorry for that, love, but suddenly life got in that way, and I found myself unmotivated and uninspired. But now, hopefully, I'll have a couple of weeks of peace and I managed to complete this request. I hope you don't mind, but I put my own spin on the prompts, slightly altering them. Hopefuly it's up to par with what you expected. I re-worked an old draft of mine, one that was supposed to be a royal!au based on Love Story by Taylor Swift, to fit the prompts. It's still a royal!au and it still has some colors of Taylor Swift, nevertheless I hope you like it.

prompts: #24: banter in which one of them’s like… “i love you” and the other person’s like “ok” and the first one’s like “say it back” and the other one’s just like “no 😝” and the first one gets frustrated because “why wouldn’t you say it back we always say i love you before we leave”

#11: when one of them is hurt by the antagonist… and their lover goes… absolutely ballistic and does everything in their power to get to the person they love, to the point in which the antagonist and it’s crew have to physically restrain them… and it still doesn’t stop them… they just keep kicking… doesn’t matter what happens to them… doesn’t matter if they get beaten in the process… as long as their lover is safe… words: 3,982

masterlist

request masterlist

#

#

She leaned to the railing of the balcony, summer air gently brushing on her skirt and her skin, a small smile playing at her lips. Her hands fidgeted nervously as she waited for her love to encounter her in that abandoned corner of her family’s palace.

A sigh escaped her lips as she attentively listened to the noises around her. The rumble of the party could still be heard, even if faintly. There were barely any rounds in that part of the castle, especially with the big ball her father had decided to throw. She had millimetrically chosen that balcony: something far enough from the ballroom, so they wouldn’t be bothered, but not too far in case they got caught. She could see the moon clearly from where she stood, its light illuminating the fountain down below beautifully. She thought about how his eyes would be beautiful under the Moon’s light and her heart fluttered.

She had been warned about the Waynes, mostly by her adoptive Father, who wasn’t exactly a fan of Bruce Wayne, King of Gotham. Their relationship was civil, but it wasn’t safe from animosities, many that had happened in their past, when both were still young princes trying to get their bearings of their upcoming roles. A war was brewing back then, a war that had not ended as of yet, and she remembered her Father telling her how palpable the tension in the air was, how exasperated his mentor was that he was as prepared to be a king both militarily and educationally. She only imagined King Bruce’s mentor felt the same.

Unfortunately, the antipathy extended to the plethora of adopted children King Bruce had. Her father always spoke of them with a corner of disdain, his lips twisting into a frown. He had to have contact with them, the trades of their kingdom depended on Gotham a whole lot, but he had shielded his children from the Wayne kids. When she was smaller, when she had just arrived in the castle fresh from the streets, she had believed every word from her Father. She had stayed away from them, actively avoiding them when she saw a pair of raven hair and bright eyes looking in her direction. When she grew up, she stopped thinking about dodging their attention so attentively, but still stayed out of their way, not wanting to get on her Father’s bad side.

The way she saw it, she didn’t exactly mess with the Waynes, in fact it was the other way around. Tim had stumbled onto her life, and he had been quite persistent, in spite of her trying to be cold towards him. He knew she really couldn’t resist him somehow, he always knew more than he ever let on, he saw the way she smiled when he’d pass through her on a stupid ball his Father threw for whatever reason. She pretended to not see him, to not feel his smile etched into her brain forever.

Tim managed to crawl his way to her heart and now she couldn’t imagine a life without his clever remarks and easy going smile. She remembered vividly when they danced for the first time. He had asked her, the first time he’d even whispered anything to her. It was like every eye was on her while she was hesitating to grab his hand. Her eyes flickered to his face, his smile faltered for a second. She remembered feeling her heart tightening at his deflation, and grabbed his hand immediately after.

His grip tightened on her hand, his smile firm and reassuring. She felt herself tense when they finally arrived on the dance floor, his other hand respectfully laying on her back. He whispered to her gently, begging to not let her eyes drift away from his. She listened to him, her heart beating fast, a mix of anxiety and something else, something better and new. He made snide comments about the people present at the Wayne ball, making laughter bubble underneath her skin. He had vanquished her nerves with a smile and bright eyes.

Hands slipped on her middle, hugging from behind. Tim’s scent flooded her, a smile blooming on her face. She moved to turn in his arms to face him, his hands allowing her movement. He was classically handsome, his blue eyes accentuated by the moonlight, sending butterflies to her entire being. His smile floored her, her hands finding his face, caressing lightly his cheeks.

“No one saw you?” she whispered, her forehead leaning on his, her breath mingling with his.

“No,” he shook his head, his forehead grazing on hers. His hands cradled her face, his eyes closed. “You look breathtaking tonight,” his voice was steady and precise.

“You don’t look too bad yourself,” she smirked, her hands falling to his shoulders delicately. Her eyes were filled with an inexplicable love, something that consumed her wholly. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too,” his lips ghosted over hers, tempting her to close the tiny gap between them. She chased the smile growing on her lips, closing the space between them and interlocking their lips. Tim had promptly responded to her kiss with a gentleness only he was capable of, kindness that made something inside her explode.

She rested her forehead on his, looking deep into his moonlit eyes with an adoration that couldn’t be contained by the vessel of her body anymore. Her heart felt calm again, next to him it was like every cell of her body was finally settling into some level of tranquility. The sinking hole she felt when he was miles away back in his kingdom was rapidly filled when he smiled at her and rested his hand on her cheek. The world was filled with screaming colors once again.

“I wish I didn’t have to leave you,” he confessed, his voice barely over a whisper, his hands cradling her face carefully.

“I know, Tim,” the whisper fled from her lips, “I feel the same, but we have to, we’ve talked about this.”

“I know,” a sigh escaped his lips, defeated and resigned. He took a step back, putting space between them. She immediately felt his absence, a coldness settling inside her. His elbows rested brutally on the railing of the balcony, his knuckles as tense as his jaw. She felt it in her bones that something was deeply wrong with him, something inside him had shifted. “We could run, you know?” he suggested, his eyes finding hers once again, full of hope. “I have a safe house far away, Kon helps me keep it. We could settle down there, live a calm life.”

“Where’s this coming from, Timmy?” she whispered, her eyes closed imagining the life Tim had laid out for her.

“I’m so tired, love,” his head shook from side to side, “I'm so tired of fighting, of briefing meetings and seeing innocents die. I don’t know if I can’t take it anymore.”

“I know,” her hands rested on top of his, “but, Tim, we can’t. We can’t leave everyone behind, this is bigger than us.”

“Why not?” his voice grew with a strong tone of anger. “I just want one thing, Y/N, one thing. I want to be able to love you, without all this weight on my back that I’ve been carrying ever since my parents handed me to Bruce when I was 12. I’m exhausted all the time, I miss you like I’m missing my own heart all the time. I can’t take this anymore.”

“Tim...” she started, her voice soft and understanding, but he quickly interrupted her.

“Marry me,” he turned to her abruptly, grabbing her hands tightly. Her mouth was agape, her heart beating out of her chest. “We can get married quietly at dawn, and then we’ll live at my safe house, we’ll make it a home.”

Her eyes flew crazily over his face, looking for any hint that he was playing a prank on her, pulling purposefully on the strings of her heart. His face didn’t betray any signs of any lies, her mouth got dry and her hands started to sweat. Her brain ran a thousand different scenarios, trying to grasp onto some hope that maybe what Tim had suggested to her might work. She found none.

She shook her head, her throat tightening up. “We can’t,” she whispered, her hands slipping from his. “It wouldn’t work, Timmy. We would be hunted down, we wouldn’t have peace at all. We’d have to live a life constantly running from our past.”

“So we’d do it,” he went to grab her hands again, but she didn’t let him, his hands grasping into summer air. “I can find other houses across the continent, I can make sure we are not found.”

Tears escaped her eyes, betraying her feelings to Tim. She shook her head, her arms crossing over her stomach. “No,” she whispered, “I can’t.”

“Hey,” his fingers lifted her chin, making her look at him, “penny for your thoughts?”

She couldn’t handle being touched by Tim, his touch poisoned her thoughts. If he touched her, she’d make a decision she’d regret, and she wouldn’t have that. “I can’t do it, Tim, I can’t leave everything behind.”

“It’s not going to be easy,” he started, “but we’ll make it.”

“You’re not understanding,” her voice showed the bubbling anger and fear inside her, “I can’t abandon everything like you’re suggesting, Tim. I can’t leave all those people who depend on me, all those families that expect me to show up and give them some comfort,” she sniffed, brushing off a couple of tears running on her cheeks. “If I leave, Tim, I’d be miserable.”

He took a step back at the brutality of her words. “You’d have me,” he whispered, “I’ll love you until the end of my days, I’d never let you be miserable.”

“It wouldn’t be enough,” she replied, her knuckles tight. “I love you, Tim, with everything in me, more than the number of stars in the Universe, but it wouldn’t be enough to cover the guilt I’d feel.”

He inhaled a sharp breath, his hands gripping the railings angrily. “I’m leaving to battle tomorrow,” he stated, his voice steady and impassive.

“I know,” a mutter left her lips.

“This is your last chance before I go,” he turned to her briskly, “please, run away with me.”

“No,” she shook her head, her voice barely a whisper.

Tim huffed and left, his footsteps heavy and angry. But it wasn’t that that had broken her heart. They always said ‘I love you’ when they had to say goodbye.

Tim hadn’t said ‘I love you’.

#

#

Out of everything Tim was expecting from his day -- to dying on the battlefield, to ending a war, the list was practically endless -- he hadn’t expected receiving the letter that was in his hands.

He didn’t even know Roy knew about them. He must have guessed, though, she told everything to Roy, she loved him deeply, a love he sometimes wished resembled the love he shared with his own brothers. But things in the Wayne household were different, more secretive and cold. Sometimes, Tim thought back on how different his life would have turned out if his parents hadn’t dropped him off at Wayne Manor to run. Maybe, he would have followed in his father’s footsteps and became a fine swordsmith, maybe worthy enough to work for the Wayne family like his father before him. Maybe, it would have happened what his parents feared the most: they would have run out of business, losing every penny they owned and living in poverty for the rest of their existence.

Tim was ultimately glad his parents had made that tough decision, he wouldn’t be a Prince if they hadn’t, he wouldn’t have met his soulmate if they hadn’t.

Her. He had royally screwed up with her, he shouldn’t have pushed her too far, he knew where she stood on the subject. But he felt his impatience grow inside of him, his frustrations got the better of him and soon he was blinded only by his undying love for her and the anger he felt at the world for failing him once again.

Tim hadn’t said ‘I love you’ to her when he left. It was that realisation that pained in his chest even now, as Jason handed him a foreign letter from Roy, her brother. It was that regret that flooded him when he read the rushed words scratched on paper, his heart picking up a beat as his eyes processed the fatalistic words presented to him.

He stood up briskly from his seat, ignoring Dick rambling about the strategy they were supposed to adopt to overturn their enemy. He heard some complaints, Bruce calling after him asking where he was going. Tim ignored, only capable of focusing on the letter and his last conversation with her, the things he did not say to her and the regret he felt on the things that had been said.

Tim didn’t have anything on him other than his sword and that cursed piece of paper, but he still made his way to the stables, overlooking the weird stares he received on the way. His horse was softly munching on some hay, unaware of the ride she was about to be put on. The letter found its way to Tim’s pocket hastily, as he put on his saddle on his mare, his jaw tight with emotion.

“So that’s it?” Tim heard, closing his eyes at the voice. “You’re just gonna march to Star City, because Roy sent you a letter?”

“It’s not that, Jason,” Tim muttered, hyper-focused on securing the saddle on his horse.

“I wish I could make you do shit that easily, I would’ve made you do my field notes ages ago,” Jason liked teasing his brother, Tim guessed it was because it was easy to get a reaction out of him.

“It’s not that,” he gritted through his clenched teeth, aggressively releasing the lock of the saddle. His mare complained at the gesture. Even her found a way to scold Tim.

“Then what is it? What’s more important in Star City than here, with your army, fighting for our people?” Jason cleared, watching the anger rise in Tim’s expression quickly and overwhelmingly.

Tim shook his head, not allowing his brother to have the satisfaction of gaining a reaction out of him. He promptly got up on his horse, gently guiding her towards the exit. Jason got in front of his horse, stopping the motion completely. “Get out of the way, Jason,” Tim’s voice was low and menacingly, “I won’t warn you a second time.”

“You don’t scare me, Timothy,” Jason scoffed at his brother’s attempt of intimidation. “Get over yourself, baby bird, you can’t scare me. Now, tell me, why such a rush?”

Tim’s eyes hovered on his brother’s face, looking down at him. The letter was fished out of his pocket and tossed to Jason. His brother caught it, and hastily read its contents. “So? If they needed help containing these rebels they wouldn’t have sent you a letter,” Jason argued, his hands motioning to his brother.

“Jason,” Tim softly said, “read it again.”

His brother looked at him weirdly and did as he said. His eyes moved more slowly now, taking in the words that had ripped Tim’s heart out of his chest. “Oh,” Jason muttered, looking up at his brother once again, “oh.”

“Get out of the way, please,” Tim begged, his voice breaking.

“What are you gonna do when you get there?” Jason asked, confused at his brother’s reaction. “It’s not like you have any medical expertise, Tim, you’re not going to be able to help her.”

“I don’t know, Jason, I just have to be there,” he responded, briskly. His voice was full of contained emotion, like if Tim mad one false step everything would overflow and he would inevitably break. “I can’t lose her, I just can’t.”

Jason sighed, one of his hands resting on the holster of his sword the other on his waist. It was like he was thinking everything through, analysing thousands of scenarios Tim couldn’t even fathom. Jason was the brother everyone underestimated. He was exceptionally strong and big, he had a knack for violence no other Wayne boy had, but he was an incredible strategist, maybe the best out of all of them.

He stepped out of the way not before saying “I’ll cover for you, but I can’t promise they won’t find out.”

With that Tim ran off, the wind whipping angrily at his hair, reflective of the storm inside himself.

#

#

Tim dismounted from his horse just outside the gates of her family’s castle. The guards looked at him suspiciously, as he strode proudly toward the gate that separated him and her. He eyed the guards with an austerity he reserved for a few occasions, he never liked making people feel inferior, but his morals were askew in light of the news weighing down his chest.

“I demand to be let in,” he ordered, his voice stern and tight.

The guard in front of him raised an eyebrow, appalled by Tim’s audacity. “And who might you be?”

“I’m Prince Tim, of Gotham, and I will get in the castle, so please move,” he gathered all the authority he could muster inside him, and spoke as if he was the monarch of that kingdom.

“I’m sorry, Your Highness, but you do not have authority here,” the guard shook his head, his hand sliding to his sword slowly. Tim took that as a sign of hostility, trying in a peacock kind of way to show he was the one with the upper hand in the situation.

Tim scoffed at the pathetic demonstration, jumping at the throat of the guard and slamming him to the wall behind him. “Listen here, I have been riding for the past 5 hours, I have not stopped once and, at this point, I’m fuelled by spite and anger,” his voice was low and threatening, and he could see fear rise in the guard’s eyes. He couldn’t scare Jason, but he could scare other people. “I’m not going to be stopped by some mid-level pathetic guard,” it was weird saying insulting things to other people. Tim rarely bad-mouthed, but at that moment it felt liberating.

“Tim,” he felt a hand rest on his shoulder, “release the guard.”

Tim looked over his shoulder, Roy standing there with a calm expression, something that contradicted the feeling in his eyes. Tim shoved the guard out of his hands, dropping them violently to his sides. Roy ordered a guard to take care of Tim’s mare, gently leading Tim inside the castle’s grounds.

“She’s been asking for you,” Roy stated, his voice elusive and calm. “No one understands why, but I do.”

“How is she?” the words that Tim was afraid of saying slipped past his lips. Asking how she was made everything that had happened to her, something he had just found out, incredibly real.

“Considering that she spent the past few days being held hostage, considerably well,” Roy conceded, rubbing his hands behind his back. “A bit bruised and shaken up. But, as far as I know, well.”

“Good,” Tim swallowed the lump inside his throat, relieved to hear what Roy had said. They walked down a straight hallway, something he guessed took them from the main gates to near where she was staying.

“She told me what happened between you,” Roy manifested, filling the awkward silence growing. “She’s been beating herself up for it.”

“It’s my fault,” Tim shook his head, “I shouldn’t have said anything, I already knew her answer, it was stupid.”

“It wasn’t, trust me, if I was in the same position as you, I would’ve probably done the same,” he shrugged, turning a sharp left, “probably worse.”

Tim laughed, humourlessly, at Roy’s comment. “Listen, kid, I get it, truly. But with this,” Roy waved his hands around, “sometimes, you gotta play the long game.”

“I hate the long game,” Tim muttered, like a little kid.

“No one said it was going to be easy,” Roy scolded him, like his brother would have done. “But if you truly love her, like you say you do, then play your cards right.”

They stopped, in front of a dirty pink door, Roy’s hands gripped the handle, a small smirk on his face. Tim straightened his posture, shedding the young brother façade he unwillingly slipped on and reverting to the young Prince ways. He took a deep breath, shuffling to organize his emotions inside his brain. Roy opened the door and pushed Tim inside the room, rapidly closing the door back up.

He had never been to her room, even of all those years of courting secretly, sneaking into dark hallways, and kissing under the moonlight. Her room had always felt off bounds to him, even if it had never been expressed as such. He slowly walked into the room further, watching how every corner had her imprint in it.

She was sitting by the window, the curtains opened, a soft summer breeze gently moving her hair out of her eyes. She only wore a simple gown, almost a nightgown, making Tim feel incredibly overdressed. There were bruises littered over her arms and neck, and he felt a mixture of anger and guilt bubble underneath his skin. He struggled to contain it, hoping the people that had done that to her were already six feet underneath the ground.

Her gaze flipped to him, and his stomach somersaulted inside him. She opened a shy smile, waving timidly for him to approach her. He walked calmly towards her, his hands behind his back fidgeting nervously. She got up from her seat, and stood waiting patiently for him.

“Hi,” he whispered, in front of her. His hands itched to touch her, bring her closer and cradle her as if she was the most precious and delicate thing in the world. To him, she was.

“Hi,” she looked down at the ground, her feet bare. “I’m so--”

“No,” he interrupted her, “don’t. I’m the one who should be sorry, I’m the one to blame.”

“Tim, you didn’t do anything.”

“I did everything,” he admitted, “I didn’t say ‘I love you’,” tears sprung to his eyes, ones that he had been trying to keep at bay for a long time. “I left and suddenly you were in danger and I wasn’t there to help you. All because I was stupidly proud and bitter and I--”

“Stop,” her hands found his face, her thumbs brushing carefully on his cheekbones. “It’s not your fault, you couldn’t have known. I certainly didn’t.”

“I should have…”

“No, Timmy, you’re just a man,” she took a step closer, her body hovering next to him warmly. It was like the ice that had settled on him instantly melted when she stepped next to him, “one that I love very much. But I made mistakes that night, and so did you. And it’s okay.”

He breathed right for the first time in days. The guilt he had been carrying like a cross on his back felt lighter, almost nonexistent. A smile made way to his face, albeit a timid one, and he grabbed her hands, the warmth she irradiated seeping into him. “I missed you.”

She smiled at him, a smile no longer free of hurt, but full of more meaning than before. “There was a question you asked that night,” she whispered, her breath mingling with his, “one I didn’t answer.”

“There was?”

“Yes,” she nodded, her nose brushing on his delicately. “Ask it again.”

“Are you sure?” Tim looked into her eyes, looking for a sign of uncertainty or regret.

“Just ask it.”

“Will you marry me?” he whispered, his lips brushing hers.

“Yes.”

#

#

[constantlyunlightening]

Work, work, work

Day 15: Cockwarming

Warnings/Other Kinks: Anxiety/Depression implications and mentions (Doppo is just like thattt), Doppo kinda snaps at the end, office sex/sex at work, dubcon (there's not explicit consent in this so I'm going to put it just in case but the reader and doppo are in a relationship and I meant for this situation to be consensual, but Doppo's anxiety in this situation made it seem kind of sus)

I have nothing but Hypmic on the brain. I love feral screaming Doppo. Would highly recommend listening to him belly scream here. :D I really do want the best for this boy tho. I love him so muchhhh.

Disclaimer: 18+ years and older to read. All characters in this work are 20 years or older. This is a fictional depiction of a relationship and is not meant to be mimicked in real life. I do not condone cockwaming your partner in their place of work irl.

It was always work, work, work with him. Well, work and rapping but Doppo hardly ever talked about his Matenro. It was always about his balding asshole of a boss, his terrible coworkers and work, work, work.

You knew he was a workaholic. You knew that when you fell in love with the guy. But geez. Time for him to learn that self care was a priority.

You had stormed to his office after having spent two hours - past the time he was supposed to get off - waiting for him at home. This overtime was bullshit. The man worked himself to the bone. And he didn't know how to say no. You worried about him! It was the reason why you marched right over to the cubicle. The place was deserted, all except for poor Doppo, sitting at his desk pinching the bridge of his nose and surrounded by paperwork.

"What the hell is all this?" You asked as you came up behind him and you almost felt bad watching as the man let out a shout, jumping out of his seat and scrambling like a frightened rabbit. A few of the papers he had on his desk got caught up in his whirlwind and dusted around the room - a fact you assumed Doppo would be disgruntled about later, but he looked far too nervous right now as he took labored breaths and let wide eyes take in your form.

"Wh-what are you doing here?"

".... You're being worked too hard if the sound of your girlfriend's voice is enough to panic you," you quipped back, ignoring his question for now as you bent over to try to help organize some of the scattered documents that had fallen to the floor. Let him have the time to bring his breathing back to normal. You were mainly pissed at his job for overworking him - not so much him. Didn't need to go give him a heart attack. "You're here late again. I was checking in on you." A pile of paperwork stacked against your chest, you moved over closer to him to set it down on the desk and took your time eyeing the assortment of work he had lying around. This couldn't all be his. Some of them must be pawning off their work, and Doppo just so happened to be the biggest doormat around. A sigh heaved from your lips, and you didn't miss the way Doppo shuddered. How could you? The man tensed up like he was being shot by lightening. "Looks like it was a good thing I did too. This work would have kept you here all night if someone didn't come to stop you."

"I'm sorry!" You weren't surprised but the volume of his apology made you jump and as he started to spew off more and more apologies, you quickly grabbed him by the tie and yanked him in, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. You weren't trying to invalidate his feelings by cutting him off, but there was no reason for him to be panicking like he was. And luckily, kisses from you always seemed to soothe him - at least as soothed as someone like Doppo could be.

"Baby," you purred gently, pulling your lips from his and watching the way his cheeks lit up with a dusting of pink. Always so stressed, this one. But the face he made after you kissed him made your heart flutter. Dumbfounded but he still managed to swoon in subtle ways - those aquamarine eyes zoomed in on you like you were treasure. The simple strokes you gave to his hair made him melt - the tension zapped out of his shoulders and he almost started to slump into you. "You don't have to say sorry. But it's time to go home now. No more work."

That cute daze in his expression only lasted a moment more before it was like all that anxious energy plowed right back into him. The word 'work' was enough to flip a switch with him. "That's not right! I have a whole ton of it!" His arm extended outward, waving at the stacks piled high. "I'm sorry but I have more work to do. I'll finish as soon as I can but - I gotta do this or my crazy boss will pile even more work on me! Or I'll lose my job or worse I-ll-"

"Doppo!" You cut him off and tried to calm him down. It worked to some extent but only enough to keep him from screaming or spiraling into one of his crazes. You didn't convince him to stop working though and eventually you had to settle for watching him drown himself in the work in front of him, trying to suppress your groans.

You loved the man. But really?

Playing the waiting game wasn't something you were interested in though. Which is why, after a bit of working, you somehow managed to not only weasel your way into his lap but you also got his cock out of his pants, stroking it just enough to get him riled up as you watched him try not to panic.

"You can't just do that-"

"I just did. Don't worry. The cameras can't see in here. It's fine," you coaxed, letting him stay nervous anyway as you pushed your panties to the side from underneath your skirt causing him to visibly gulp. But he wasn't pushing you off.

"I have to work," he declared, whispers on the verge of being shouts fell from his lips but cut off into a whimper as the head of his dick was suddenly being warmed up by the heat of your body as you slowly sank down onto him - taking him in inch by inch. 

It wasn't until you were fully seated to the hilt, listening to his breath hitch that you gave a tiny huff. "Then work." And your body stilled. No movement other than the flutter and clench of your walls against your hung lover, letting your eyes watch his flustered face. He clearly didn't know what to say and you watched as his gaze flickered around like a chicken with its head cut off - to your face, to his paperwork, to where your bodies were joined and then anywhere but you. Good. Get him riled up. He was panicking but you could feel him twitch inside of you, like he was anticipating for you to move - waiting for it. But you kept your hips locked in place as you leaned in and rested your head on his shoulder. "Work, Doppo. Just giving you some motivation for when you finally get done." Your voice was much to kindly for someone who just pulled somebody's dick out in the middle of a public office. But it managed to keep him from tipping over his brink just yet. Poor thing always got so worked up. Your physical actions may not be helping that necessarily, but your voice always seemed to soothe him over, even if it was only a little at a time. 

"H-how?" You listened to him practically squeak, shifting under you and instantly giving a whine at the slight push against your walls. How was he supposed to work when you were on him like this? How was he supposed to concentrate when you were constricting around him? When you were filling him with molten lava from the bottom up?

With feather light kisses, you trailed a line across his neck, trying to remain still on the cock that was stretching out your insides - forcing the urge to bounce on him like a pogo stick until you both lost even the capability to think of work. You would behave somewhat for now though. Doppo could get his work done. You could get some form of closeness in the meantime. Besides, maybe a good vise grip on him could speed up the process? Or make him say 'fuck it' altogether - hopefully, literally fuck it. "Just work, Doppo. Since it's so important. Ill wait," you cooed, almost as if you were being thoughtful. Too sweet for him to argue and you listened to him give a defeated groan of a sound before he tried to level out his breath and refocus. 

Oh, but that was easier said than done. Doppo had restarted on the paperwork, working around you as your warm body nuzzled into his chest. He usually felt like he was suffocating at work but right now, it felt like your body was trying to strangle the life out of him from somewhere other than the neck. How were you so tight? How come velvety walls were squeezing down on him over and over again without either of you even moving? You were starting to leak out around him, a sticky mess starting to spill out onto his lap slowly - torturous. Maybe you were actually trying to be sweet. Maybe you were actively trying to mess with him. But either way, it was kicking up a bad habit within him. He would reach for another stack, shifting in the chair and causing the tiniest of mewling to escape from your lips. It was a blissful sigh here, a hitched breath there, a tiny hum into his chest and it was going to break him. He was supposed to be focusing but at this rate, he was going to start making mistakes on his work.

You were causing him to silently work himself up. Each climb of his emotions resulted in a string of jitters, and in return had your body clenching even tighter on him. How could you even feel like that? He choked, tugging at his tie to try and gasp for air. You were messing with him. You had to be. You must be mad he wouldn't leave. This was his retribution. To be strangled by your wet cunt over and over without reprieve- without any motion for relief. Well, fuck that. He may love you. But he worked far to hard day in and day out. Pent up didn't even begin to describe it. If you were going to try to rile him up like that, then he would give you riled up because he couldn't take it. Not a second longer. Not with that familiar primal darkness beginning to flare inside him.

His body rocked and you instinctively lifted your head from his chest to peer up at him, the first actual movement he had made since you had sat on him. "Are you okay?"

"O-okay?" He was stuttering his words but unlike his panic from before, this time he sounded angry. It wasn't a tone he took entirely too often. But you knew Doppo. You knew if his buttons were pressed enough, he would snap. He was tea kettle, getting hotter- "how do you except me to be okay-" and hotter "- when your purposely trying to make me-" until he screamed "-loose my fucking mind!?"

You only had enough time to widen your eyes before he flew out of his chair, taking you with him and slamming you onto his desk. The noise he made was positively feral - teetering between a growl and a scream - and without a warning, he was wrecking you, bludgeoning into you with a speed you hadn't even been aware he was capable of. 

"D-D-Doppo!" You were trying to talk but the sudden thrusting was knocking out your capabilities to think. You had been stretched out and horny for a while now but at this pace you couldn't keep up. You were trying to grip at his shoulders for some type of stability. "H-hang on a sec-"

"Hang on?!" He sounded unhinged - a growl ringing in the back of his throat so different from his usual meek - if not panicked - composure. "I've been hanging on! I've been hanging on this whole time! You just had to be on me huh? When I'm at work!" Papers were tossing up into the air around you and you could hear the clatter of the cubicle as he knocked you into the desk over and over. Oh, you couldn't even keep your eyes opening with the way your senses seemed to overload. "All this work - all these damn excuses to pile it onto me - and then you still come in here and give me more work. Too needy? Need my to pound you senseless before I can finish my work? Then that's what I'll do. I'll take you over and over and over again until you're out for days!" He declared, his hands clamping down on your hips and you could already feel the bruises even as the head of his cock shifted up enough to find your sweet spot, leaving you wailing out. "Again and again and again!" He got louder and louder with his sounds, growls and grunts turning into wanton groans and gasps as he split you in two. 

This would teach you not to mess with him at work. Or maybe it would teach you to mess with him more.

[nishigo]

growing. // razor headcanons & writing. // chapter three.

a book titled “growing.”

[ c h a p t e r 3 : simple love. ]

the synopsis reads: razor and the dear reader have gotten themselves into quite the mess. miscommunications and raised voices lead to an argument that was more heated than a flaming flower. although healing takes time, could a wound this large be repaired?

authors note: tada! welcome to the last chapter of this short and sweet book that has been created. this one is more stuffed with more fluff than the last and lots of smooches. razor deserves the best, after all. after you finish, put the book back properly on the shelf, okay, traveler? that way it’s easier for people to find it. (or yourself, if you desire.) i, hao, the librarian and timekeeper, thank you in advance. now, have fun with this last chapter of the book. ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

word count: 1,564 words.

tw: lots of fluff. so much so it could give you a toothache. and kisses as well. a bit of crying in the beginning, but that is all.

request status at time of posting: open.

[ chapter one. ] [ chapter two. ] [ chapter three. ] 

in which there is reconciliation and a bright future planned out underneath a doorway, the moon and stars being the only witness.

would you like to read?

＞　行｡ ( y e s )

＞　不行 。( n o )

------

it would be about three days before you happened to enter mondstadt again.

frankly, you were only in the area because you were passing by, and you were trying to do it as quickly as possible.

after lisa would get her plants and such, you were off again to the inn and then to take up another mission granted to you in the morning.

though, despite the mission you ended up taking solo, you couldn’t stop thinking about that terrible night with razor.

you couldn’t bear the thought of seeing him again, knowing that most likely, you’d end up in tears again.

you couldn’t have waterfalls pouring out of your eyes in front of someone that meant so much to you.

but fate seemed to be pushing its luck, and the stars were aligning just for the two of you.

you and razor stared at each other for a moment, as if the other was an apparition and they were dreaming. his rough, calloused hands took a hold of one of your own gentle ones.

no, this was real alright.

the two of you were both afraid to make the first move, but once more, razor used his instinct to initiate what he thought was needed.

his strong arms wrapped around your neck, nuzzling into the soft skin.

you felt so warm.

you felt cozy.

you felt like home.

course, you were caught off guard, and as much as your brain told you to pull away, you heard him whisper into your ear.

“i missed you.”

and then the walls came tumbling down.

your previous attitude towards him was diminished, and you were back to where you started.

you were still in love. and now, he knew he was as well.

Razor pulled away, and for the first time, you were able to take in much more detail than what you had initially seen. There were tired bags under his eyes, his face worn out, as if he had not been able to sleep for weeks. His silver hair was a mess under his hood and his voice was much quieter, as if he was stepping on eggshells while determining how to make his next move. You gently reached out, cupping his cheek with that gentle, comforting smile you always wore.

His body shook as he suddenly felt as if his insides were collapsing. He felt his face grow hot with tears that ran down his pale skin, over his scar, and down onto the tiled floor. He felt so guilty for what he had done to you that he was terrified that you would seek vengeance. Or that you would leave. The latter was much more terrifying, as he hated when you were gone for a few days, how could he handle not seeing you for the rest of his life? Seeing your hands raise up, he braced for impact of a harsh hit to the face with his eyes squeezing shut.

“Shhh, Razor...it’s okay.” You murmured softly as he felt two soft hands delicately cup his face. Your thumbs would run along his smooth skin, wiping away the tears that continued to flow down. Your own eyes would water, but by the grace of the stars, you were able to keep somewhat of a composure. He opened his eyes just barely, enough to see you again at least. Confused by the look he was giving you, you began to carefully let go and put your hands down before he grabbed your wrists in a swift motion. Back they went to his face, and back you went to wiping his tears and simply holding his head in the doorway.

“Y/-Y/N. I am s-sorry. I h-hurt you. Didn’t m-mean to, just n-no know what l-love was.” Razor managed to choke out through staggered breaths and hiccups. You kept up your affection, smiling gently as you let one hand go of his cheek.

“Don’t worry about it. I shouldn’t have run off so fast and had more patience with you. I’m sorry myself.`` To calm him down further, you hesitantly lifted a hand and ran it through his silver locks. Razor froze for a moment, but he relaxed further into your touch as he tilted his head more towards the hand, similar to that of what a cat would do. Silence ran its course as you two slowly began to heal from the wounds of that night.

“I love you.” He stated simply. It almost slipped your mind as you continued to play with his hair and cup his cheek, but you did a double take as you stared at him.

“You...you what?”

“I love you.” Razor repeated again, a bit louder this time in case you couldn’t hear him or something of the sort. You were about to ask him if he was joking, but his face held a serious look to them as it dawned on you. He really meant it. Granted, it was the most simple, basic way to confess feelings back towards a person, but you didn’t mind. It was what made him charming and attractive to you anyways.

“Why do you love me?” Razor paused to think about it, deep in thought as he did his best to string the words Lisa recently taught him together into something worth remembering.

“Simple, love. Love is a person, like how mate is a being. Therefore, you are love. Warm, safe, kind. Easy to be vulnerable and be...Razor. Guard down.” He explained to you with a sweet look on his features. Despite his limited vocabulary, you were deeply touched. He took the time to think and make sure his point was clearly mentioned. Razor grinned happily as he tilted his head at you. The air was light again, the heavy feeling replaced with his heart being ecstatic as he didn’t have to even say anything else. He could feel how happy you became from hearing what he said. It was good he could sense your happiness, because you were left speechless.

“Be my love? Please?” Razor asked quietly as you continued your silent streak. Since you were at a loss for words, and because you knew his love language was physical touch, you decided to show rather than tell. Your hand that was on his cheek trailed down his face and found its place wrapped around his hips. Then, with one swoop, you pulled him in closer to you and gently collided your lips with his.

It was if a supernova had exploded inside of his chest. The feeling was forgein, unfamiliar. Perhaps this technique of two lips put together was a human tradition he had yet to learn. He didn’t know what to do, so he mimicked you a bit. He opened his eyes slightly and then watched as you leaned in. He would then mirror the action for a few seconds before you pulled away. He knew that whatever you had just done to him was a way of saying yes. He just knew, and he loved it. The affection and having your full attention was all he could ever ask for. In fact, Razor found himself wanting more as he cutely pouted.

“More please?” You laughed, covering your mouth a bit as you nodded your head and cupped his cheeks again. You peppered your kisses all over his face: on his forehead, nose, temple, chin, the corners of his lips. Razor huffed adorably as he shook his head, pointing at his lips.

“You miss! I want here, love!” Razor whined, though, his complaining was stopped as you kissed his lips again. He melted in your hold, and there was no better feeling in the whole world. The boy would pull away this time, panting softly as he curiously touched his lips with his hands. It was amazing every time he received them, and he knew that he would never grow tired of them. Perhaps you could give him lessons, he thought. Then he would become an expert! Yes, that sounded like a plan. But that would come at a later date.

For now, he wanted to spend the night with you in his arms again.

------

some extra things i’ve thought of:

he would have totally dragged you into the guest bedroom where he was staying and given you a bunch of grass and flowers he had arranged.

(“give her a gift she will appreciate, something from nature!” was what lisa suggested.)

the roots were still there, along with heaps of dirt, but you found it endearing nonetheless as you laughed and accepted them.

he also got you chocolate covered strawberries! he had made them with klee (a mistake on lisa’s part, she will never let those two in the same room unsupervised again, especially not a kitchen.)

he would make it up to you by practicing how to formulate sentences under the bright sun in wolvendom.

you would reward him with kisses or headpats, so he worked extra hard in order to improve his linguistic skills.

because of being a bit traumatized from being seperated from you for so long, he gets a bit of separation anxiety when you leave him for too long. he’ll do missions or even go shopping with you just to ease himself down.

also hold his hand :(((

or any words of affirmation will do , he loves both when they come from you :))

[10-19-17uswnt]

Not that kind of librarian Sonny- Tierna x Reader

This is my first ever fic and I’m really nervous about it so tell me what you think. Prompt: “I work at a library and you continuously ask me to help you find books about the most random topics, are you on some sort of quest?”

On this particular day when Tierna walks into the Stanford library she stops dead in her tracks when she sees you standing at your desk. You are the most beautiful girl she has ever seen. She is so lost in thought that she doesn’t notice you walking right up to her.

“Can I help you with anything?”

She blinks quickly and looks around confused. Suddenly she can’t remember why she’s here. Panicking she blurts out the first thing she can think of to keep you from walking away.

“Dinosaurs!” 

An adorable blush starts to creep up her freckled cheeks as she realizes she practically shouted at you. You smile softly and let out a quite chuckle.

“Do you have a specific dinosaur in mind?” You say as you start to lead her towards the correct section.

“Uhh no not really” She laughs nervously with a hand on the back of her neck. “I’m Tierna by the way, Tierna Davidson.” She finishes while extending her hand to you.

What she didn’t know is that you knew who she was the second that she walked through those doors. You were a huge soccer fan and even played all throughout high school, but your senior year you were told that if you got another serious concussion it could result in brain damage so you decided to hang up your boots for good to stay healthy. 

Despite what you went through you still loved the game so when you arrived at Stanford you went to any game you could. Tierna is one of the best players to come through the Stanford program so it was no surprise to you when she finally got her first call up. From the very fist time you saw her play you were smitten, and now is no different.

“I know who you are Superstar,” You can’t help but grin as you watch her eyes widen. “I’m (Y/N) (Y/L/N),” You say as you finally bring your hand up to meet hers.

Just as you are reaching the books about dinosaurs you hear your boss call out to you, “(Y/N)! I need you to put these books back where they go!”

You can’t help but feel disappointed at your time with Tierna being cut short. For a fleeting moment as you turn towards her you think she may look disappointed too.

“Duty calls, I’ll see you around Superstar” You say as you bring your hand up to brush her arm. You’re already beginning to walk away before she can respond, but as you look back you see her nodding. 

With her original purpose for coming to the library long forgotten Tierna quickly makes her way back to her dorm room texting into the USWNT groupchat as she went.

Baby T: SOS I JUST MET A CUTE GIRL AND I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO DO

Frat Daddy Sr.: Aww shes a baby gay.

Frat Daddy Sr.: I remember those days

Frat Daddy Sr.: It took me like 3 months to ask out my first girlfriend

Baby T: 3 MONTHS?!?!

Not so Baby Horse: Probably not helping worms

Frat Daddy Sr.: My bad T...

Frat Daddy Sr.: I’m sure you’ll be fine

Pressi: Just take a deep breath and tell us about this girl honey

Baby T: I was headed to the library for only god knows what at this point and I saw her standing by her desk and I couldn’t help but stare because she is the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. By the time I realized that she was standing next to me I had already forgotten what I had came for so when she asked what I was looking for I just blurted out the first thing I could think of. AND she already knew who I was and didn’t seem bothered by it at all.

Dasani: Wait I thought librarians were only hot in pornos?

PewPew: Eww Sonny, not that kinda librarian

The Great Horan: I don’t see the issue here, just ask her out

Uncle: Yeah just go back tomorrow and ask her to coffee or something

Rose🌹: Leave it to Lyss to be the voice of reason haha

Baby T: Just ask her to coffee, how hard could that be? Thanks everyone, minus Kelley and Emily

Frat Daddy Sr.: HEY!

Dasani: HEY!

The next day you’re sitting behind your desk when you see Tierna walk inside. When she spots you she smiles and starts walking towards you. As she gets closer you call out, “I get to see the Superstar two days in a row? Must be my lucky day”

Her step falters as a deep red blush rises to her cheeks. Making Tierna a blushing mess is quickly becoming your new favorite thing. “What can I do for you today Superstar?”

She stands rooted to the spot staring blankly at you. You start to think that maybe she’s not as into you as you thought and maybe you should cut back on the flirting when she finally rushes out, “Doyouwannagogetcoffeewithmemaybe?”

“I’m sorry, what did you say? All I got out of that was coffee. You’re gonna have to talk slower babe.”

Her eyes widen and somehow her blush gets even darker. She clears her throat before speaking again.

“I uh... I asked if you.. if you... had any books on how to make coffee.”

You give her a weird look as you turn to your computer to see if the library has such a book. While you are distracted Tierna facepalms at her nerves getting the best of her once again. She is pulled out her thoughts by the sound of your voice. 

“You’re in luck Superstar, we have one book on how to make coffee.” You say as you get up to pull the book off the shelf and check it out for her. “Is there anything else I can do for you?” 

“Uh..Nope. That’s it I guess. Thanks (Y/N)”

You watch disappointed again as Tierna walks away. Before your brain can catch up to what you’re doing you grab a pen and run after her. “Hey Superstar! Wait up!” 

Tierna turns around slowly and watches as you jog up to her. She’s extremely confused since she thought that she blew it with you once again. When you finally reach her you grab her arm and before either of you think about it you write your number on her arm. When you see the goofy smile spreading on her face as it dawns on her what just happened you knew that you made the right decision.

“Call me Superstar.” You say with a wink as you start walking back towards your desk.

As you walk back you hear a load yell and turn just in time to see Tierna land from her flying fist pump. You shake you head with a smile, this goofy girl held the key to your heart and she didn’t even know it yet.

On her way back to her dorm Tierna excitedly pulls out her phone to update the team.

Baby T: GUYS GUYS GUYS! I GOT HER NUMBER!!!

Pressi: That’s great sweetheart! Now, do we get a name for this mystery lady of yours?

Uncle: So I guess the plan worked?

Baby T: Oh yeah! Her name is (Y/N), and not exactly...

Frat Daddy Sr.: What do you mean “not exactly” it either worked or it didn’t

Baby T: Well you see, I was GOING to ask her out to coffee, but then she was flirting with me and called me babe out of nowhere so I panicked and asked for a book on how to make coffee...

Not so Baby Horse: Oh honey

Dasani: Wait how did you end up with her number then!?

Baby T: She ran up and wrote it on my arm when I was leaving

PewPew: So now that you got her number are you going to invite her to the game Saturday?

Baby T: Should I?

PewPew: You said she already knew who you were, so that means shes a fan right?

Baby T: Good point. Thanks!

Your shift ended almost an hour ago and you still haven’t heard anything back from Tierna. You were starting to worry that you had written your number down wrong when you hear your phone go off.

Unknown: Hey it’s Tierna

Maybe?Tierna: From Stanford

(Y/N): Hey Superstar, I was beginning to think you didn’t like me anymore ;)

Superstar: Oh, sorry lol. So we have a national team game coming up this Saturday in LA and I was wondering if maybe you wanted to come watch and like meet the team and stuff

Superstar: But like its totally cool if you already have plans, or if you don’t want to go

(Y/N): I’d love to

Superstar: Really? Awesome. Okay cool, I can’t wait.

(Y/N): Me either, I’ll see you Saturday 

Saturday could not come soon enough, you drove 6 hours on Friday to get to your hotel and relax before the game. Tierna had to leave in the middle of the week to meet up with the rest of the team so this will be the first time you’ll be seeing her since you gave her your number. Luckily you bought her USWNT jersey last year so you’re able to show your support.

You get to the game early so you can watch the team warm up, when your eyes meet Tierna’s you can’t help the excited squeal you let out as you wave to her. She had pulled some strings to make sure that you got a seat close to the bench ans was excited to see that the staff went all out and gave you front row seats.

On the field Emily notices that Tierna has gotten distracted and follows her line of vision. When she shes your happy dance and notices your jersey a devilish smirk appears on her face before she calls out to the team.

“Hey look eveybody, T’s Sexy Librarian is here” Her snickering is interrupted by a thump on the back of her head from both Christen and Ali.

“Get your head out of the gutter Sonnett” 

From your seat you watch on amused at the reaction that your presence has caused. Soon after that the game was starting, the US were playing the Korean Republic and while it would not be as exciting as a rivalry game it was still a very good game. Tierna started and played a full 90 with some great plays on the ball.

Once the game was over and most of their gear was packed up Kelley noticed that Tierna kept glancing back towards your seat behind the bench. Tierna jumped when she felt Kelley’s hand on her shoulder.

“Oh, hey Kelley”

“Just go ask her out already dude, you’ve been texting her non stop since you got here so I think its safe to say she likes you too.” She whispers in her ear.

“Now go get your sexy librarian!” She laughs as she shoves her towards you

You smile as you see that ever present blush start to creep up her face as she walks towards you. When she finally reaches you she takes a deep breath before speaking.

“(Y/N)? I really like you. As in make me forget my on name kinda like you. From the very first second I saw you in the library last week I was awestruck by your beauty. That’s why every time I came to the library instead of getting what I came for I left with some book I didn’t need. If you’ll let me I’d like to take you on a date so that we can get to know each other without a phone screen and 350 miles between us.”

Throughout her little speech your smile continued to grow, but towards the end you could read her face and see that the nerves were starting to fight their way to the surface so you decided to interrupt her before she could start rambling.

“Hey Superstar?”

“-oh uh, yes?”

With a smirk you watch her eyes go wide as you lean forward and grab the nape of her neck.

“Just shut up and kiss me already,”

For once she stopped overthinking and listened to her heart.