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pseudowho · 5 months

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Yet Another Nanami Kento Sex Pollen Fic, Part Two

The reader encounters an aphrodisiac diffusing Curse...which she brings home to Nanami Kento.

Read Part 1 first HERE!

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When you had looked up through the billowing steam of your shower, and seen Kento's broad figure filling the doorway, your conscious thought had juddered to a halt, and you became all compulsion and instinct.

Nanami Kento stood, his weight shifted slightly forward on one leg, as one hand reached up to grab the doorframe, and the other squeezed his cock, which was hardening rapidly under his hand. He was exactly as you had left him; shirt splayed open with all the buttons ripped off, and trousers shunted down at the front, clinging to the jut of his hipbones, trail of honey-coloured hair pathing the way to his hand, which was stroking himself so keenly.

I suppose he didn't think to leave my clothes alone, you thought, but...I owe him.

You met Kento's eyes and tried to read him as your mind stuttered, and your heart leapt into your mouth as Kento crossed the room in three long strides. As you grasped the shower door and began to open it, the glass banged and rattled as Kento's shaking hand gripped it and slammed it closed.

"...Kento? It's okay, I know how it feels. Come on, I can he--"

"No," he spat. Kento held the door closed, but his hand was quaking, at war with itself. You felt your heart pound as noticed his other hand, gripping his throbbing length, the tip now an angry red-purple.

"I don't want to hurt you," Kento forced, "This is...different. I could stop you, but you...you couldn't stop me...if you wanted to."

Your heart clenched for him. You knew the desperate need he was experiencing, and he had helped you. But, as you took him in, ostensibly huge, all raised planes of muscle over strong bones, you knew he was right. But still--

"I trust you, Kento. I know you wouldn't hurt me." Kento looked at you darkly, hungry and wolfish, teeth bared.

"I wouldn't be so sure," he pressed, and the way his eyes lingered on your body, naked breasts heaving and wet under the steam, Kento thought of breaking you underneath him, the effects of the pollen having made your wellbeing completely second to his need, he felt like he'd surely die unless he used your body to relieve his own.

Forcing himself to look away from you as you pressed your hands against the glass, looking at him with such tender concern that he could have wept, Kento felt every thread of his nervous system on fire.

With a sinking nausea as Kento felt this...this...substance working through his synapses, his body and brain were getting hotter and hotter and his grasp on rational thought and decision-making were reducing. His brain was no longer working. He panted, hand letting go of his cock to run through his hair. Kento shivered at how erotic his simple touches to himself felt. After tugging his hair sharply at the roots, nearly groaning aloud with the pleasure, Kento's fingers trailed to his lips, ducking two fingers past them to suck on his own fingertips. He moaned around them, and you watched him, fascinated and terrified at how animalistic Kento had become.

His skin felt too tight, every sense piqued, and his hand on the shower door shook harder as he heard you switch the water off; as if detached from the rest of his body, this hand squeezed the door closed, but his other hand pressed, with his forehead, feverishly against the glass as he stared you down. Looking into his eyes, you saw less and less Kento there as he struggled to contain himself. Kento breathed out shakily.

"I'm going to open the door," he spoke, each word pained and deliberate, "and you're going to run, and lock yourself in our room. Are you ready?" You stared at Kento, speechless.

"Are you ready?" he barked and you jolted, nodding frantically. His white knuckled hand swung the door open and you leapt past him, rounding the corner as you ran to your bedroom, hearing quick footsteps approaching behind you and you got inside the room, slammed the door and locked it--

A fist banged on the outside of the door as Kento roared, and you fell back onto the bed, still drenched, hair dripping down your back (or is it cold sweat?). You heard footsteps, flat, heavy and pacing.

Kento ran his fingernails up and down the back of his head and neck, pacing furiously, ashamed of how quickly he nearly hunted you down after he had let you out of the shower. Reaching down, lifting his legs one by one, he wrenched his slippers off and lobbed them across the room where they bounced meekly off the high windows. Throwing his shirt and trousers to the sofa, he sat hard on the floor with his back to your door, face in his hands as he genuinely worried he may die from the heat and desire pooling in his stomach and coiling outwards through him.

Kento's cock sat, heavy and throbbing against his belly, pressed upwards by the waistband of his boxers. The hair on his stomach was wet with pre-cum. Pushing his boxers fully down, with one arm draped over his eyes, Kento began to stroke himself, squeezing hard, desperate and chasing relief.

She felt better after she came, he thought, panting as his hand stroked fast, wet strokes from tip to base, she felt better, you will too. Kento continued to work on himself, feeling tears prick in his eyes and growling when he felt absolutely no relief.

On the other side of the door, you tentatively knocked. "Kento?" You heard a low groan in response. "Look, I...I know you're trying to keep me safe, which I love, but...I know you're going to need something other than your own hand."

Silence. You continued, "So, you can come in here and I promise I can take it, or we can call Shoko?"

"We are absolutely not calling Shoko about this," Kento forced, low and angry. Your lower belly twisted, and you knew you needed to force Kento's hand. He needed this. He needed you.

"Or, I could just..." you started, sounding braver than you felt, leaning your back against the wall beside the door, "touch myself, and you can cum in your hand to the thought of me."

Kento was revealing in his silence. You continued, moaning softly as your fingers began to rub small circles around your clit, and you heard a heavy weight shift against the door. "I'm wet," you gasped softly, "you'd barely need to do anything, just hold me down and sink straight into me." Kento growled on the other side of the door.

"Stop it," he barked, "I'm warning you."

"I can take it," you pressed, continuing to pleasure yourself, moaning sweetly, folds wet and glistening now, "Please come and fuck me...daddy."

The door flew inwards off its hinges with a bang, wood splintered, and you squealed as Kento reached around the doorway and gripped you hard by the throat. Using his other hand to strip his boxers completely away, he pulled you nose to nose by the throat, your tiptoes scraping against the floor as you gasped, lightheaded.

"You can take it, can you?" he rumbled, pupils blown with lust, his cock hard against your belly. Pressing a hard kiss, all teeth and tongue, to your mouth, he threw you onto your bed where you bounced, face down, "Let's see, shall we?"

You squealed again as Kento grabbed you by the waist and threw you up the bed. Lifting your face from the pillows, you moved to turn to Kento, "I'm sorry, I just--" You were cut off with a cry as Kento grabbed your hair by the roots, forcing your face forwards. Kento began to position you like a mannequin, pressing your tummy down and your arse up, and finally grabbing both of your hands where he made your fingers clasp to the headboard of the bed. Stretched and quaking, you felt Kento's hands grip you firmly by the hips.

"Hold onto something," he growled, before bottoming out inside your dripping pussy in one sharp thrust. You cried out, hips trying to scoot forwards up the bed as you adjusted to his size, seeming bigger than usual with how thick and aroused the pollen had made him; Kento slapped the side of your thigh hard and you squeaked, the pleasure sharp and bitter.

Kento slapped your sex back onto his cock one, two, three times and came with a shout, the orgasm bursting along his skin, his moaning a ragged, injured sound. Time stood still as he poured cum into you, feeling it drip down his balls and your thighs, carrying on and on until his moans turned to low pants, continuing to thrust slowly into you.

Kento waited for the desperate clawing at the back of his neck, the itching at the base of his brain, to pass...his stomach swooped, like falling at the start of a dream, to recognise that he felt no better. Furious, devastated, Kento grasped you by the hair to pull you upright, his chest feeling like a brick wall against your back, as his cock remained throbbing and hard inside you. Still holding you by the hair, he tipped your head sideways, biting deeply into the soft skin above your pulse point.

Kento felt sickly delighted to feel you shaking in his arms, and thrust upwards into you, cock gliding effortlessly along the tight wet slick of your pussy. His tongue and teeth ghosted along the shell of your ear, and he whispered low and dangerous, as he splayed his huge, fine-boned hand across your lower belly.

"How deep am I?" He thrust again, harder, letting go of your hair as your head fell back against his shoulder. You squeaked as his knees batted yours aside, forcing you to fall deeper around his lap. "Can I get any deeper?" His freed hand gripped the side of your hips, pressing you down onto him. You gasped, mewling and writhing as you felt his cock bully against your cervix, and as he pressed your belly inwards and downwards, you twisted, squeaking as you saw stars, both hands reaching back to clasp desperately round the back of Kento's neck.

Kento buried his nose into you, sniffing deeply. "Are you ovulating?" he intoned, continuing his relentless assault on your limp body as he lifted you, pressing you up and down slowly and deliberately, stretching you, as you felt that if he went any deeper he'd surely thrust past your cervix and into your womb. You almost sobbed, voice muffling as his hand left your hips and clasped over your lower face, shushing you, almost tenderly.

"I know you are...I can smell it," he groaned, slamming you down hard, enjoying your hot little breaths behind his huge hand, "It's...delicious." You wanted to tell him how close to finishing you were, but were totally voiceless with his hand over your mouth. Your pussy fluttered tellingly around him, and Kento chuckled.

"Don't worry, you'll get your turn. Shit, this stuff is...it's..." Kento felt the urgent need to orgasm begin to burn through him again, and he rumbled his displeasure, throwing you back onto the bed and flipping you, overwhelmed by the urge to breed you, and keep you home so he could fuck you all day if he wanted to.

Pressing your knees up to your chest, your face burned with pleasure and pain as Kento slammed into you again, his hips snapping wetly against yours at a relentless pace. He grabbed your hands and brought them around your knees, forcing you to hold your legs in place as he lifted your arse off the bed, dragging your pussy back and forth along his cock on time with his thrusts.

A dam broke inside you, feeling Kento so deeply that it felt like he owned your whole body, and you came with a sob, wounded by the pleasure as you trembled, completely used as Kento continued to drag himself in and out of you, soft splatters of his and your cum dripping into the bed every time he thrust into you.

Kento chased his high, needing release or he'd surely perish, and he revelled in the tight squeeze of your plush walls around him, grunting and moaning unashamedly as you squirmed, babbling his name, which could be another language as far as Kento was concerned as his brain sank into the primal urge to keep cumming inside you until you were round and beautiful, full of him. The thought spurred him on, and he leaned over you, caging you in with his arms, your thighs crunched against your abdomen, and Kento took your nipple between his teeth, whining around you.

You grasped the back of his head, pressing it into your breast, feeling his pubic bone slam against your clit, your second orgasm hypersensitive and painful, your hands shaking as they tugged Kento's hair, your lips trembling with easy praise for him.

Kento tasted the bitter tang of blood and metal along the sides of his tongue as he came again, his skin electric, and dying stars in his eyes, and growled a bestial growl of relief as he began to feel the itching desire ebb away, finally satiated.

Pulling out of you, he looked down at the mess between your legs, puffy folds covered in a pinkish mix of blood and semen, and Kento groaned into his hand.

"I'm so...I'm so sorry," he panted, shaking and exhausted, reaching up to stroke your forehead, pulling your arm from over your face. You smiled weakly at him, bruised, aching and completely spent.

"It's okay," you reassured him, stroking his abs softly, in small circles, "but we really should get rid of those clothes. And have a bath." Kento nodded, swiping his sweaty hair back off his head. He glanced behind him, blushing faintly.

"And...fix that door."

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Would it have been sexier if he'd kept the slippers on? Uncertain.

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kikixreverie · 1 year

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Sweeter mornings

Roommate!Bucky x Female reader

Summary - After an intense night with your roommate, Bucky Barnes, you wake in his arms with the promise he had made to you only hours before playing on your mind, he definitely intends to keep it. Part 2 of sleepless nights.

Word count - 2.8k

Warnings - (18+) smut, oral (m receiving), p in v, friends to lovers, fluff.

A/N - Part 2 of sleepless nights is finally here! After many sleepless nights of my own I might add. Hopefully you all enjoy and it can live amongst it's famed sibling (my most liked/rebloged fic ever). Also this fic could probably be read alone if you haven't read part 1 but I still would recommend reading it for full context.

Sleepless nights (part 1)

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It was almost afternoon when you woke up. No loud alarm to jolt you awake, no rushing to get yourself dressed for work, it was still and calm, something you hadn't experienced much living in an apartment in Brooklyn.

You eyes fluttered open and closed, feeling rested for the first time in a long time, you'd finally slept longer than 5 hours in weeks, though well into the late morning as you could tell.

Thank god for weekends... and thank god for Bucky.

You peaked your eyes open at the reminder of him, and the reminder of what had occurred between you last night, and despite the soothing warmth that surrounded you, for a moment, you worried he would have already fled, but with a gentle tug of an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to his chest, your worries were mere worries.

Bucky had stayed.

You didn't let yourself dwell on what that could mean for the both of you, instead you snuggled into his warmth, resting your own hand on the metal one he had on your stomach, pushing away any insecurities and letting yourself enjoy this while you had it.

His legs were entangled with yours under the duvet, nose pressed against the nape of your neck, his other arm under the pillow you rested your head on. You were surrounded by him in the best possible way, that touch-starved part of you basking in the affection of his embrace.

Your eyes fluttered closed again, sinking into the bed when Bucky shifted behind you, his nose pressing against that sensitive spot below your ear, nuzzling slightly before kissing he kisses you there, soft and slow.

You couldn't help but release a pleased sigh, biting your lip when he continued his kissing, trailing his lips down your neck, then kissing your shoulder. You turned in his arms, facing him, and Bucky squeezed your hip in appreciation when you didn't waste any time with kissing him properly, placing your hand on his cheek to rub your thumb across his cheekbone.

Bucky shifted his hand to your thigh, grabbing above your knee to hitch your leg over his, effectively pressing your body against his, and you could already feel his arousal.

You almost felt guilty as you recalled last night, remembering that you had gone to sleep before returning the favour, leaving Bucky to deal with himself.

You wondered if he had managed to get himself off, but considering he had cuddled up to you last night in the same position you woke in, you doubt he had the chance. Which is why you didn't hesitate to push him onto his back, straddling his stomach as you kissed him harder.

You were both out of breath, lips kiss bitten and cheeks heated when Bucky pulled away from you, panting with his eyes closed and eyebrows furrowed.

You were in a similar state, though you tried to force down a smile when you realised that you had somehow managed to get a super solider out of breath, something you knew didn't happen often.

"I should get you some food, it's the afternoon." Bucky said in a raspy, unbelievably sexy, morning voice, the first words spoken since last night. He opened his eyes to look up at you, and you instantly recalled the image of his head between your legs last night, and huffed a laugh at the almost shy look he had on his face now.

"I'm not hungry." You replied, pouting slightly, shifting yourself backwards to sit further on his hips, your ass brushing against his hard cock still confined to his boxers, and a rush of air slipped past Bucky's lips, quickly reaching for your waist and holding you in place.

"Honey, I-" He stopped himself, getting distracted by the sight of your bare chest above him, before dragging his eyes back to yours again, his cheeks pinker. He licked his lips as he failed to regain his focus, furrowing his brows to try to seem more stern, "You need to eat."

"And I will, after you fulfil that promise you made to me last night." You reminded him, kissing his soft lips again, watching how his eyes fluttered closed and he lifted his head to follow your lips when you pulled back, desperate for it to continue. His hips lifted of the own accord from the mattress when you crawled down his body, trailing kisses as you went, just as Bucky had to you last night. You thought it only fair for you to torture him the same sweet way he did you.

You looked up at him when you reached his boxers, watching as he wet his lips with his tongue while you lowered yourself to kiss the dip between his abs, biting your lip in appreciation of the sight of the happy trail that led from his navel, down to where his boxers covered him.

You smiled up at him when Bucky finally lifted his hips slightly to let you slide them off.

God was he a pretty sight.

His cock was desperately hard, already leaking and a deep flush of red from the tip down, Bucky hissed at the sensation of the cool air alone against him, you could only imagine how sensitive he'd be for your tongue.

You gently took his cock in your hand, watching Bucky's face the entire time, not wanting to take your eyes away from him.

As you pumped him from base to tip, he instantly lifted his hips, whispering curses under his breath, you wondered how long it had been since he last came, by the sight of him, it was a while.

"You okay, Buck?" You asked sweetly, continuing to pump your hand on his length slowly, before rubbing your thumb across the slit at the tip, spreading his desire down his cock, using it to make the soft glide of your hand smoother.

He nodded, his lips parted, watching you with bated breath. You lowered your head closer to him, and Bucky fought with that desperate urge to lift his hips again, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth when you kissed the tip of him, and again, and again and again. Kisses peppered across his cock until he was practically begging.

"Please, honey."

You throbbed between your legs at the sound of him begging you, calling you honey with a voice sweeter than the stuff. You squeezed them together to relieve the ache before you gave him what he needed. How couldn't you?

He moaned when you finally took him into your mouth, teasing the tip of him with your tongue before taking him deeper and hollowing your cheeks around him, your own moan vibrating around his cock when his flesh hand found its way to your head, not forcing any movement, only encouraging you at your own pace.

His body seemed to be out of his control, and Bucky never expected that feeling not to fill him with fear, though in this moment, all he could focus on was the feeling of your hot, wet tongue against his cock, that lust in your eyes when you looked up at him through your lashes.

He didn't think much before he said it, just suddenly filled with the desperation to be as close to you as possible, to be inside of you, make up on that promise.

"Can I fuck you, sweetheart?" He asked, his voice still rough and his breath uneven. He let out another sweet sound when you swirled your tongue around him before pulling your mouth away, nodding in agreement as you quickly crawled back up his body and crashed your lips to his, Bucky's hand cupping your face as he leant up on his elbow, meeting you halfway, kissing you senseless as you situated yourself above his cock and reached between you to sink down onto him, already wet and throbbing with need.

Bucky's eyes rolled back as you slowly sank onto him, tight and wet and fucking perfect. His hand slid between your thighs to gently rub your clit, not wanting you to experience any discomfort, and you moaned against his lips, pressing your forehead to his when you were finally seated, Bucky's cock buried deep inside you.

"Fuck." He breathed, waiting patiently for you to start moving, and when you started rocking your hips, grinding yourself down against him, he smiled as he bit his lip, before he used his other hand to grip your jaw between his thumb and pointer finger, guiding your open mouth to his.

"Bucky-" You rasped, moaning as he teased his tongue into your mouth, his flesh hand still focused on rubbing your clit, his cock barely moving inside you, only keeping you nice and full.

"You close already, sweetheart?" He joked, though the words held no judgement, he was smitten with himself, pulling back to watch your face contort as you edged closer and closer to an orgasm, his fingers moving faster, your hips bucking against him, which only made his cock nudge a spot deep inside you that made you see stars. You were clenching around him and Bucky groaned as you did so. "C'mon honey, cum on my cock."

Your head tipped back as you fell over the edge, your orgasm washing over you in intense waves as Bucky guided you through it, rubbing your clit until it had passed.

"Good girl. You're so perfect, doll." Said Bucky, giving you a few more seconds to recuperate as he kissed down your neck.

When he pulled back to look at you again, that devious smile you had seen a glimpse of last night had returned to his face, and he wrapped an arm around your waist, his metal hand moving to your thigh, dimpling your flesh with the gentlest of squeezes. You almost asked him to squeeze harder.

You bit your lip at his words, huffing a laugh at the state of yourself as you came down from your high, though you were still incredibly hyper-aware of Bucky's cock still inside you, throbbing with need, along with your heart racing in your chest.

You were taken by surprise when he flipped you over, your back hitting the bed with him looming over you, pure, wanton lust in his blue eyes.

You moaned when the movement made the tip of his cock nudge against a spot inside of you that brought a jolt of pleasure, and Bucky seemed to appreciate the sound, watching you as he rolled his hips forward, so perfectly deep inside you.

"C'mon, Buck." You begged, that need for him to finally take you rising steadily in your core.

His eyes darkened and he took your wrists in his hands, pressing them into the mattress above your head with his right hand, as his left travelled to your chest, slowly rubbing your nipple with his thumb.

"You can ask me nicer than that, honey. C'mon pretty baby, say it again. Ask me better. Tell me what you want." He practically purred, his voice liquid honey. His head dipped to lick the nipple he hadn't yet paid attention too, looking up at you when he took it into his mouth, and you arched into his touch, every word that comes out of his mouth only building your desire.

With a mouth like that, you would do virtually anything he asked you to.

"Please, James. I need you to fuck me. God, please, I need it so bad." You whispered breathily, not even comprehending that you had called him by his first name, something you had never done, and he all but growled.

His lips were on yours instantly, tongue dipping past your lips as he finally released your hands and used his arm to wrap around your thighs, just about bending you in half as he finally began to thrust into you, starting slower than you knew he wanted to.

When you threw your head back and cried out at the satisfaction of it, Bucky knew he would be okay to fuck you harder, and before you knew it, his hips were slamming into yours hard, the friction of his cock rubbing against your walls and finding home deep inside you had you arching your body into him, your hands grasping his back, nails scratching into his skin, you almost felt like you would cum again already.

Bucky was just as much of a mess as you, sinful noises escaping past his parted lips, his eyebrows furrowed tightly as he chased his pleasure, dizzy with need, and enraptured with the feel of your hot, wet cunt clenching around him, a perfect fucking fit.

He couldn't help but watch you, your teeth holding your bottom lip, eyes closed.

He released your legs so that he could kiss you again, moaning into your mouth when your fingers threaded through his hair, pulling gently.

Holding himself up with his right arm, his left hand drifted to your chest again, cupping your breast as he tugged at your lip with his teeth, before gliding his thumb across your nipple, the gentle stimulation a perfect contrast to the way he fucked you harder than you ever knew you desperately needed.

You could barely keep yourself quiet, the experience of having sex with your roommate, whom you've been obsessing over for months, was beyond your comprehension. You knew Bucky had already ruined any prospect of another man, not that you would ever want another man anyway.

It was rough and needy, a sheen of sweat covering both of your bodies, almost feral but god knows the both of you needed it. There was still somehow a softness at the same time, the subtle touches felt just as intense as everything else.

Neither of you wanted it to end, but neither of you had much hope of holding out for much longer.

Bucky was already surprised he'd lasted this long, having technically accidentally edged himself last night, and with the way your mouth was on him earlier, he was absolutely intoxicated with your body.

"Fuck, you feel so good." Bucky husked, resting his forehead on yours so that you could both breath once you'd run out of air. You opened your eyes to meet his as he continued to fuck you into the mattress, your second orgasm creeping closer and closer. "Do you feel good, sweet girl? Look how good you take me, fucking perfect."

Your eyes fluttered closed, moaning at every sensation, gasping at his words, seconds away from coming undone, "James, please."

"Fuck, sweetheart, open your eyes. That's it, look at me, baby. Are you gonna cum?" He asked, though he knew the answer, your legs had wrapped themselves around his waist, your pussy clenching down on him perfectly. He certainly wouldn't be far behind.

You nodded, staring into those blue eyes with your own half lidded, your lips parted and kiss bitten, his metal hand held your jaw gently, only inches away from where he could be holding your throat instead, though you fought the urge you had to move his hand, knowing it might cross a line for him. That didn't stop you from imagining him doing it anyway, his hand wrapping around your throat, squeezing just enough to not be uncomfortable, but still make your heart beat faster in your chest.

Your orgasm hit you then, washing over you with an intensity you were learning apparently came with Bucky's touch. Your hips lifted to meet his, his cock so deep inside you as you clenched down on him.

Bucky came with a broken moan, rolling his hips into yours with deep, shallow thrusts, painting your walls with his cum.

It soothed a burning heat deep inside him, the both of you completely blissed out in the afterglow as you came down, catching your breath as his head dipped to rest on your collarbone.

Your hands were in his hair as he relaxed on top of you, though he still held most of his own weight as to not completely squish you.

"Fuck, Bucky." You breathed, smiling and shaking your head as you played with his hair.

He lifted his head and looked at you, that puppy dog look returning as though he hadn't just fucked you like his life depended on it only minutes ago.

"You okay?" He asked, chiding himself mentally that he hadn't checked up on you already, too lost in the ongoing sensations, and the fact that he was still inside of you.

You nodded, smiling, your fingers drifting to dust across his cheeks, tracing his features gently with your fingertips, the soft touches soothing not only Bucky but yourself too. He closed his eyes at the gentle touch, then kissed you, softer, but somehow more intense, and with something in his eyes when he pulled back that made you blush like you weren't naked beneath him.

"You're the best roommate ever." You joked, raising your eyebrows at him and holding his face in your hands, Bucky laughed softly.

"Well, I was hoping I could be something more than that?" He replied, tilting his head at you, smiling when you nudged your nose against his.

A part of you was still insecure, worried that he didn't like you in the way you did him, but another part of you told you to look at the way he was looking back at you, soft, sweet eyes, and his hands hadn't left your skin all morning, unable to tear them away. You'd both talk properly soon, and you were hopeful of how that conversation would go.

"Hm, I think that could be a good idea, Mr Barnes." You kissed him again, though he pulled away before you were done.

A smirk grew on his lips and the sight made your stomach flutter. He shifted impossibly closer to you. "You keep talking like that, sweetheart, and I'm gonna have to fuck you again."

His ability to switch between puppy dog and cocky bastard was definitely going to be something you were gonna have to get used to, but it wasn't something you didn't appreciate, you smirked all the same, fingers brushing through his soft hair, "You'd be more than welcome to... Mr Barnes."

He laughed quietly, "Oh I will, darling. Still gotta get some food into you first though."

You rolled your eyes playfully, though didn't disagree with him, your light dinner last night did not account for the intense cardio you did not expect yourself to be doing this morning. Nodding along to his words, you kissed him again, wrapping your limbs around his body to pull him as close as possible. You just couldn't get enough.

The kiss ended but Bucky stayed close, whispering against your lips, "If you're a good girl, I'll take you on the kitchen counter."

You couldn't have gotten out of bed and into the kitchen quicker, leaving Bucky smiling to himself in your bed.

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mixelation · 15 days

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i went into the itasaku tag and there's a lot of art of them with minato. (if you just went WTF WHY? it's because in the big favorite character poll that happened semi recently, they're the top 3 favorite characters.) anyway obviously i started to go "hmmm could that ship WORK though"

here is what i have so far

itachi and sakura accidentally time travel directly into the middle of the third shinobi war. this forces an unlikely team-up thing for survival.

i think itachi is so committed to his villain bit he would rather fuck himself over royally than team up with sakura. sakura is SLIGHTLY more likely to play nice but still needs dire circumstances as motivation. so maybe: they end up immediately in enemy territory with their konoha headband (sakura) and uchiha eyes (itachi) and become immediate targets. suddenly sakura is like "hey i need you to kill everyone" and instead of doing that itachi coughs up blood. she can point him at enemies though and he'll genjutsu them and that works great. like this

so sakura is like "okay i need your help as a more experienced ninja for my own survival" bc yeah sakura is a badass, but she's never had to go on the run before or fight more than a handful of ninja at once. meanwhile itachi is breathing better than he has in years after one (1) session with sakura and suddenly a temporary team up seems like a great idea. like yes he wants sasuke to kill him but in order for that to happen he needs to live long enough to un-time travel himself.

however. neither of them have any idea what's happening. they get into stupid nerd fights over details of historical events. they cite publications at each other. frequently it turns out both of them are wrong. they also argue over whether or not they should seek help from konoha

sakura: you don't have to TELL the uchiha you murder them all in the future???? just use your fancy eyes to legitimize being an uchiha so they believe us!

itachi: (silent internal emoting)

meanwhile jiraiya has picked up on the most INSANE rumors of a tsunade impersonator smashing forests and mountains and shit. she may or may not have an even worse orochimaru impersonator with her. jiraiya sends minato to investigate.

there's a lot of fanboy debate over if minato could beat itachi in a fight. and for the purposes of this fic, i'm going to say: yes, yes he can. and it's incredibly upsetting for both itachi AND sakura

minato, to sakura, while sitting on itachi: okay so if you ARE an impersonator, your tsunade costume is really bad

sakura: (TERRIFIED SILENT SCREAMING?)

minato: but your jutsu impersonation is pretty spot on.....?

minato: (looks down between his knees at itachi) did you do that with your..... sharingan....... mr. uchiha bastard?

itachi: (has never been more confused in his life. he's never lost a fight this bad. he assumed losing a fight this bad would mean he'd die. he's not confused about being called a bastard though. that just happens.)

then idk. maybe they tell minato they're time travelers and he takes them back to jiraiya. the mood is very "minato is strong and hot and friendly. this is both sakura and itachi's type they didn't know they had. but also. help."

jiraiya: hmmm well, this one's obviously an uchiha, but YOU need to prove you're really tsunade-hime's apprentice. tell me...... what are her measurements

sakura: (pulverizes a boulder with her bare fist) does that answer your question or should i demonstrate on something else ( :

jiraiya: wow it's a mini-tsunade no further questions!!!!

i think i want minato to be in the 18-19 range so it's right around the time of itachi's birth. they decide itachi and sakura shouldn't go to konoha to reduce time travel shenanigans, such as accidentally preventing their own births. it seems like itachi would especially be at risk for butterfly effecting himself

sakura: (thoughtful expression)

itachi: no.

sakura: i don't say anything!

minato: ???? aren't you allies?

sakura: inside joke :) don't worry about it :)

so minato ends up their konoha proxy. he goes and researches un-time traveling them and then shows up and acts.... really charming? like when minato tells you everything will be okay, you believe him. and he's SMART and HANDSOME and once SETTLES AN ARGUMENT OVER WHERE THE RICE COUNTRY CAPITAL, WHICH MOVES ON AVERAGE EVERY THREE MONTHS DURING THE WAR, CURRENTLY IS. he's not even condescending that they're both wrong. itachi keeps thinking about him wrestling him down into submission and he doesn't know why. sakura is rethinking her personal definition of "dreamy"

sakura after minato leaves: this is SO upsetting. he's not even my type. i like dark and brooding.

itachi: what

sakura: DON'T WORRY ABOUT IT

and theeeen...... maybe they both get so sexually frustrated over minato they have sex with each other, idk don't worry about it

#itasaku #itachi/sakura #itachi/sakura/minato kind of i guess

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blondeforyou · 3 months

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I want to show you all something.

Anecdote: I love data. I love spreadsheets. I love number trends. I had a thought, a feeling, a theory. Research and the scientific process has not failed me yet.

The Smosh fandom on AO3 has a total of 1,785 works in it, as of the writing of this Tumblr post (Sunday, January 28th, 9:31 AM CST):

Anecdote: when we reach 2k fics, I'll lose my mind.

I thought about June 20th, 2023. The day that Ian and Anthony announced that they had purchased their company back. I saw the ripple effects of this unexpected change in every online place in visited: YouTube (obviously), but also Tumblr and Reddit and Twitter and Facebook. Friends I've had for years, who I've never had a conversation about Smosh with, were commenting on it.

Anecdote: I genuinely don't know when I started watching Smosh. They've been a part of my online experience in some capacity for over a decade, that's the only way I can describe it. Through all and every change Smosh has experienced, I've watched it all happen with varying levels of interest.

Back to the scientific process: capturing data on AO3 is an exercise in frustration. Publish dates can be changed by the author (good things for authors, bad thing for me who is trying to get raw data). You can sort by Upload Date, but you can't filter by it. Admittedly, I was also too impatient to port the data into a spreadsheet to look at it objectively. Sometimes, thought, you just have to get down and dirty with the data to find what you're looking for.

The first Smosh fanfiction published after Ian and Anthony's announcement was posted on June 21st, 2023.

There have been 466 fanfics posted in this fandom since then.

It's simple math after that point. 26% of all Smosh fanfic on AO3 has been published in the last 6 months. That's amazing. No, really. that's actually amazing. Smosh has been around for over 18 years. 26% in 6 months. I've never seen anything like that.

Anecdote: holy shit???

And we're still going. We're still creating. We're still inspired. I'm inspired every day by the people in this fandom. I want to keep making more. I hope you all do, too.

#smosh #smoshblr #smosh rpf #i just love numbers and ao3 and yall so much #idk why i made this I just thought it was cool

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tklpilled · 6 months

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complex

(aether, albedo)

summary: sometimes side effects are more prominent than the actual product.

a/n: this is kinda romantic implied bc i wrote albedo sort of crushing on aether but it could be read as platonic so i'm just keeping it vague lol. more lee aether who is surprised.

[this is a sfw tickle fic!]

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

At this point, Aether is used to being a test subject. He came to Teyvat to find his sister, yet now he’s going to leave an unwilling hero and guinea pig — and, by the looks of it, still sisterless.

He can’t count how many times he’s gone through Lisa asking him to try a new spell, or Charlotte telling him to stand still so she can work on her photography, or Lyney practicing a magic trick he’s just come up with. He doesn’t mind it, really, not that much — it’s better than trying to fix all the Archons’ problems for them.

(He’s still hoping for Diluc to join the ‘ask-Aether-to-try-every-new-thing’ club, but considering everyone thinks he’s a teenager and not thousands of years old, he doesn’t think he’ll be doing a wine tasting any time soon.)

Point is, this whole thing isn’t just because of his own stupidity. He made a very understandable assumption, alright?

“Come here,” Albedo says, writing down some notes. “I want you to try this elixir out for me, if you wouldn’t mind.”

Aether nods, although Albedo can’t see it with his head bent down. He walks over to the table and sees two bottles, both filled about halfway. On the right is a pale green, glistening substance, and the bottle on the left contains a much more appetising blue-purple liquid. Albedo doesn’t look up from his notes, so Aether takes a 50/50 chance and picks up the left bottle. He downs it in one go.

Albedo looks up, then tilts his head. “That wasn’t the right one.”

Oh.

If Paimon were here, she’d panic and begin asking every question she could think of — but she’s not here, and Aether doesn’t know how to panic for himself. So, all he says is, “Am I going to die?”

“No,” Albedo says, sounding a little amused at how flat his voice is. “But—”

“Will I be in pain?”

“No.”

Aether shrugs. “Alright then. I don’t see a prob—LEHEM!”

His hands shoot up to cover his mouth, his eyes widening as a sudden sensation washes over him. Albedo looks on with a mixture of pity and curiosity as he sinks to his knees. “Maybe I should have warned you better…”

Aether curls in on himself, arms wrapped around his middle now instead of his mouth. “M-mahahake it stohohop!” he pleads, scrunching up his shoulders to protect from invisible, non-existent hands.

Albedo kneels down beside him, admiring the grin adorning his face. He’s never heard Aether laugh quite so freely before, and it’s very endearing. He finds himself staring for longer than he had intended. Aether is the one being tickled, yet Albedo is the one blushing — that doesn’t make any sense.

“In my experience, it stops after a short while,” Albedo finally says, blinking away from Aether’s incredibly pretty face, “although I took a much smaller dose than you. I’d estimate ten minutes at most.”

“T-tehehen?” Aether squeaks. “I cahan’t — too muhuhuch!”

Albedo can’t help but smile. Aether’s laugh is far too contagious. “Calm down, you’ll get used to it soon enough. It won’t feel nearly as bad in a couple minutes.”

Despite his words, Aether whines through helpless laughter, although he keeps any more complaints he may have to himself. From what Albedo had experienced, the tickling wasn’t intense at all; merely a step beyond tingling, just enough to make one laugh. For someone as ticklish as Aether, he supposes it might be a bit worse, but the overall outcome should be mostly the same.

“It was supposed to be a strength enhancer,” Albedo says, carrying the conversation while Aether is too busy cackling beside him. “It still is, technically. It just has some…very strong side effects. I’m sure if you could manage to stand, you’d find yourself a bit better with that sword of yours.”

“Plehehease,” Aether begs. “Mahahake it stohohohop…!”

“Hm.” Albedo reaches around him to scratch at his side, sending him scrambling away with a shriek.

“I hahate yohou!” he wails, then returns his arms around his waist protectively and kicks against the floor a little. “Yohou’re cruhuhuel!”

“I could leave you here until it's over,” Albedo suggests, making Aether frantically shake his head. “Maybe even make some more for you.”

“Y-yohou wohouldn’t!” Aether cries, although they both know he absolutely would.

Albedo pokes a spot on his tummy that his arms fail to cover up. “If you say so.”

#don't ask about the title man idk #my fics #arty writes #genshin #genshin impact #gi #tickle fic #albether #albedo genshin #aether genshin #lee!aether #ler!albedo #ish

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the-grand-gemini · 7 months

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Big obsessed with all of the BG3 villains. The themes of the cycle of abuse/trauma in all of the main cast makes me feral over how the villains unfortunately do not/did not get the opportunity to be "saved" by Tav (if doing a good playthrough) and by experiencing the heros journey.

I could talk about Ketheric and Orin, but after reading @bearhugsandshrugs fic it got me deep diving into Gortash's character. It's amazing and everyone should read it especially if you're weak for Tav/Gortash like I am 👀💦

Trigger warning for abuse mentions below the cut.

Let me start with stating this is NOT an Enver Gortash apologist post, he's evil and he's done terrible things. This is just me yelling into the void about character foils.

Childhood abuse:

In game we really only get to know his history through background information that we can scrape together if you search through the city and the House of Hope.

We don't get any details on what exactly Enver went through as a child. We can assume neglect/possible violence from his parents given his mother's words and the fact they sold him. We get to know that he was beaten when living in the House of Hope, but not what other possible horrors he could have experienced there (not including just the trauma of witnessing the other debtors and Hope), what age he was, or for how long (if anyone knows more timeline wise I'd love to know) he lived there before he escaped. We don't know how he escaped either, if he had help or did so on his own.

I'm no child psychologist, but abuse has lasting effects as we can see through all of the main party. Victims of abuse tend to have difficulty moving past certain emotional stages in their life. Aka a person abused in their childhood may have issues maturing emotionally without therapy, etc (again I'm not a psychologist). There is a strong possibility that "Child" Enver is still probably holding the reins emotionally while adult Enver isn't even aware of how his past affects every action and reaction he has at all times.

I can't imagine how living with Raphael during ones formative years being healthy in anyway, but we can definitely see some of the learned behaviours he's picked up from the Cambion. A focus on possing/presentation, a suave persona, torturing/using people for his own gain, a general lack of empathy, deal making, similar attire with devil motifs...

Unhealthy coping mechanisms:

Speaking of attire, Enver's coat not allowing Fear to be cast on him speaks volumes to me. Imagine the absolute horror of moving from one situation of abuse to another much worse one in the hells as a child/teen and probably being in a state of fear/anxiety at all times. Enver wearing a coat that doesn't allow him to feel fear gives me three main thoughts:

1. He is doing everything in his power to avoid that specific emotion and therefore prevents himself from thinking about that period of his life. Meaning he is not confronting his trauma the same way the main party is forced to throughout the game.

2. Narratively does the coat prevent him from feeling any fear at all? Or do we just go with the game mechanic that ensures he cannot be made afraid by the fear spell? If it prevents him from feeling fear at all (which I think is narratively more interesting and you can take this headcanon out of my cold dead hands) how does this effect his every day decisions? Fear prevents risky decisions all the time, it's one of the emotions that actively keeps people alive. Psychopaths usually don't experience fear the same way an average person would. Given his many horrific actions (the Iron Throne being a key example) I wonder how much his forceful removal of fear has done to his perception of rational thought. If you aren't afraid of consequences what's to stop you from doing anything at all? Selling a loyal body guard to the hells, torturing an entire faction of people in order to manufacturer your own personal army, stealing from an immensely powerful devil aka mother fucking MEPHISTOPHELES??? He presents himself as calm and collected in conversation. He appears as if he's the most rational of all three villains when he's really just as awful when we look into what he's actually been up to vs seeing Orin and Ketheric kill people on screen.

3. Where did he get the coat? Did he make it himself or was it a boon from Bane? A promise to a devout worshiper that he would never be made to feel afraid or beneath anyone again?

Another abuser - Bane:

Speaking of Bane... Another user (please tag if anyone can find the original post!) mentioned a line Astarion says where he states that he prayed to all the gods, but none answered. OP wondered if Enver, trapped in the hells and desperate for salvation, called out the same way... only for Bane to be the only god to answer. I'd die to know specifically when he was introduced to Bane and made to be his chosen.

We know Bane is considered an evil god and we even find that if we kill Enver and then use speak with dead that Bane is torturing him in the afterlife for failing him.

Given this abusive relationship is Enver a foil for Gale, a man groomed from a young age by a goddess and left with the consequences when his actions did not meet her expectations?

Is he like Shadowheart, someone who was given no alternative and made to believe they willingly chose their god only to learn they were deceived and never had any other options?

Like Wyll he's cast out by his father (or in his case both parents).

Like Lae'zel he's worshipping a deity with false promises, how can he believe he'll rule the entire world like a god himself when Bane the god of TYRANNY would see no other at the top but himself (Was he secretly planning to use the crown like Gale to usurp Bane or just pandering to us)?

We know he and Karlach are absolutely foils for each other given that he is her abuser and like himself Karlach was forged by her times in the hells only to survive on her own merits.

Those are my thoughts! Would love to know anyone else's on the walking red flag that is Lord Enver Gortash.

If Enver lost his memories like the Dark Urge would he be given a chance to redeem himself through his actions? Could he with his knowledge of infernal engines fix Karlach's heart

Would Enver have ever become Lord Gortash if not for Bane...?

Anyways if anyone wants to yell at me about Enver, Orin, or Ketheric please feel free to do so! I love characters who fell through the cracks because they had no one there to help them only to crawl out themselves and burn the world.

#enver gortash #lord gortash #bg3 gortash #bg3 #bg3 spoilers #bg3 thoughts #headcanons #character study #the cycle of abuse #trauma #child abuse #trigger warning #fear #ketheric thorm #orin the red #character exploration #narrative foils

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kookblurx · 9 months

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always and forever - kth

→ SUMMARY: Falling in love with him was easy.... so easy that it didnt felt real in the end.

→ GENRE: one-sided love, drama, sadness, heart break

→ RATING: 13

→ NOTE: hey guys, so i came up with a new theme and yes i deleted arranged marriage. im really sorry to everyone who wanted to keep up with it but i needed some change. i will upload one shots from now on and maybe some short fics about various kpop groups ( ofc also about BTS ). hope you will enjoy them.

BTS MASTERLIST ♡.°₊ˎˊ˗ ONE SHOT PLAYLIST

meeting him felt like a truck had hit you. full speed into the right spots. seeing his smile while he talked with the others in the office, stole your breath as you hid behind your computer screen. you could see the little sparkles in his eyes whenever someone cracked a joke. after a week you could memorize what his favourite coffee was and how he always made his way to the snack corner, first thing in the morning. it was weird. you knew all his habits but his name was still a mistery to you. you were never interested in the man who worked in your company but something about him was different. how he talked, walked, how he treated everyone with respect and how he always had a bright smile on his face. it made your heart skip a beat ever single time. it felt like you were back in highschool, experiencing your firsl love all over again.

the moment of truth came as you were ordered to bring some documents to the floor he was working in. your hands became sweaty as the elevator slowly reached the 5th floor. would he be happy to receive the documents from someone as plain looking as you? nervously you fixed your hair in the mirror before the doors slowly opened. it was now or never. pressing the folder against your chest, you made your way over to his desk. of course he was surrounded by other co workers, especially woman. for a moment you stopped. it would be so easy to give the documents to someone else, telling them you are in a hurry. no. like this you will never be able to ask him for his name. taking a deep breath your feet carried you over to the crouded desk. pushing yourself past the other woman in their pencil skirts, you finally managed to get to him. clumsy as you were, it was inevitable that you bumped against his shoulder.

"Im sorry"

you mumbled while pressing the folder against your chest. instead of getting mad at you he flashed you with his beautiful smile again, before reaching out his hands.

"thank you ... uh ..."

this was your chance to introduce yourself, to finally take a step closer to getting to know him. as the other woman looked you up and down ... your voice became stuck inside your throat. they were all so beautiful compared to yourself. he surely doesnt want to know your name, he had plenty of company. his eyes, however, were still glued to you, waiting for an answer.

"Me? ... Oh im Y/N"

"Thats a beautiful name. I'm Kim Taehyung"

since that day everything changed. you finally had the courage to greet him in the mornings and even spent your lunchbreaks with him. taehyung was an easy going guy who, to your suprise, didnt liked the attention he got from the other female workers. he preferred to be alone but he was fine with your company. you were easy to talk to and didnt tried to get into his "pants". your days had been filled with so much joy that you wished that this would never pass. that you two would keep continuing like this.

"You know .. I dont even get it. Why do they all seem interested in me? The day i got here.. suddenly everyone swarmed me. Not only the females but also my male co workers"

taehyung kept munching on an apple piece you had shared with him while he kept ranting about the attention he got from his co workers. like he did every single day. you couldnt help but laugh at it everytime. it was funny that a guy like him wasnt aware how he effected others with his presence. he wasnt even aware that your heart nearly jumped out of your chest whenever his fingertips accidentally touched yours.

everything could had be perfect, it could had stayed like this forever. just the two of you spending their lunchbreaks together and hanging out in bars after work. that was enough for you, at least for the time being. after a while taehyung stopped spending his lunchbreaks with you. no one knew where he always went during his breaks but taehyung was always back on time when the break ended. somehow he looked brighter than before, he was literally glowing whenever he had the time to meet you. something had happened in his life and it made you feel uneasy.

it was one of those nights you two spent at your favourite bar. the air was chilly as they were annoucing the first few days of december. sipping on your glass of alcohol your gaze went over to taehyung. even today he was more busy with his phone than talking with you, everything you said hitted a wall. it was hopeless. something, or someone was keeping him on his feet. grabbing your glass more tightly you made a decision. nearly at the same time the two of you turned around to face each other

"Taehyung I - ... !"

"YN ... You know- ..."

blinking in suprise you started to laugh. finally he had looked up from his phone to talk with you.

"You go first. You were on your phone the whole time so .. tell me, whats up"

suddenly taehyung became extremely nervous, you never saw him like this before. his cheeks grew red and he kept fidgeting with his phone inside his hands. somehow he seemed ... in love? no that cant be right? someone like taehyung wouldnt fall in love that easily with someone like you.

"You see ... I ... met someone! Thats why im always on my phone. She is really sweet and we both hitted it off immediately after i met her in a bar. I didnt knew if i should tell anyone about it yet but ... you are basically my best friend so .. i thought you should know it first!"

best friend. hearing those words from the person you love the most, sent daggers through your heart. with all the strenght you had left, you gave him a smile.

"Thats ... Thats awesome! Im happy for you Taehyung"

that night you cried into your pillow as your heart shattered into tiny little pieces. it was your fault. your fault for not telling him sooner, for being happy to just spend time with him .. it was your fault for thinking he would be by your side forever.

as expected it spread like a bush fire that kim taehyung found himself a girlfriend. she was a beautiful woman who worked one floor underneath your office. beside her appearance she was also really kind and tried to befriend you. she said "friends of taehyung are my friends too!" it made you sick to your stomach that she was literally perfect. perfect for him.

days, weeks and months went by without a single change. your heart still ached whenever you saw taeyhung in the parking lot with his girlfriend. they always held hands with each other or he kept embracing her as he said goodbye. you thought that, after 5 months, it would become easier. it didnt. for you, taeyhung was the perfect guy. a guy you could picture a future with but he wasnt meant for you. you two werent meant for each other. if fate would had wanted that .. it would had given you the courage to confess to him sooner. that woman was his destiny. you were just a by stander in his story. a friend. a best friend.

after a year of working in the same company, taehyung announced his engagement with her. everyone was invited to the wedding, including you. you wanted to decline but it didnt felt right. like in the past you were too scared to speak up. you didnt wantes to ruin his happiness. taehyung was too important to you, even now after all this time.

the wedding was beautiful. taehyung and his wife were beautiful. looking up at the sky while the freshly married couple shared a dance, a tear rolled down your cheek. it felt bittersweet watching the love of your life getting married to someone else. carefully someone placed a hand on your shoulder, quickly you wiped away your tears. after turning around you noticed that it was one of your co workers. in all this chaos of the last year you had forgotten his name. a soft smile was seen on his face as he gently squeezed your shoulder

"it hurts huh?"

"what do you mean?"

with a motion of his head he pointed at the newly wed couple

"that girl over there, the bride.. i had a crush on her for weeks. sadly it never worked out"

you werent really sure if you heard that right. fate was a tricky thing who liked to hurt people in the messiest ways. but it also loved to bring together the people who needed each other the most. with a smile on your face, you faced the stranger as he offered to go over to the bar to grab some drinks.

after the wedding the stranger you met there kept visiting you at your desk. by now you finally were able to get his name. he was Hoseok, in short, Hobi from the same floor as you. he worked as a secretary for the boss so you hadnt seen him much around. healing each others hearts wasnt an easy task but it was better than handling it alone. none of you could avoid gazing at the person you lost. whenever taehyung walked past you or the woman ... one of you always followed them with their eyes.

love hurts. one sided love hurts. it shatters your heart into million little pieces. while one person is happy, the other drowns in sadness. it took you 3 years to finally fell out of love with taehyung. him switching companies also helped a little bit. you two still talk sometimes. not often but taehyung made sure to meet you at least 4 times a month. the last time you saw him he told you about the baby which was growing inside his wifes belly. he sounded so happy as you tried to swallow the tears and the sadness. even if you got over him, seeing him so happy and sharing stories about his family .. still stung a little bit.

the contact between you two became less and less .. and finally after 5 years ... it stopped. you hadnt heard from him. he never called back and you didnt even knew how he was. if he still worked in the same company, if he moved .. if he was still together with her, nothing. while living your life to the fullest you never had managed to get rid of the photo you took of him one summer day. from time to time you took it out of your drawer. remembering the good times you two shared with each other. despite everything ... you still hoped that he kept his bright smile. no matter where he was right now. you hoped ... he would never lose it.

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spookyson · 4 months

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Okay soooo just wrote like my longest fic ever I'm so happyyyy

A lil peak;

Dick Grayson gets home to find his little brother missing.

Which was, unfortunately, not rare or new, but this was infinitely worse. Because Tim was a baby.

Dick, along with most of the team, rummaged through the Manor and Batcave. They had gotten back home around an hour ago, sometime after 3, and the routine debrief had been abandoned when Cass noticed the empty bed.

“Tim! Timmy!” said Dick, his voice growing hoarser by the minute. “Come out, buddy! Please we’re not trying to hurt you.”

Dick was upstairs, investigating the manor along with Damian and Stephanie, while the rest of them double-checked the cave—no sign of him.

What if he wasn’t even here? What if he was in the city? What if he was in danger-

Fuck, fuck. Dick had grown used to it, the fact that all of his family were usually in a life-threatening situation. He was the same and if Batman, the most controlling asshole Dick had ever managed to love, let all of Dick’s siblings head out at night to fight crime, then he could too. It’s just that everyone else was trained, experienced, and older than 3. Also, this was Tim. Who always managed to make the worst enemies and get into the worst situations. What do you mean Ra’s al Ghul wants your babies? Why the fuck don’t you have a spleen? Assassin friends? Why do you have assassin friends?

Bottom line; Dick was stressed and he would not be sleeping tonight unless Tim was at home and under lock and key.

God, Bruce had already called Clark. And Bruce never called Clark. It was like a pride thing or something, Dick wasn’t really sure, he never paid much attention to what Bruce said back when he was Robin.

Dick frantically checked Tim’s room for what must have been the twelfth time in the past twenty minutes. There wasn’t a lot in it, Tim had moved most of his stuff into the Nest, but Dick meticulously checked under the bed, closet, and adjoining bathroom for any sign of his brother. There was none.

“Richard!” called Damian from the threshold of the room.

Dick looked up from the closet. “News?” He fought to keep his voice level. Damian was still so young, he didn’t want to scare him.

Nodding, Damian gestured for him to follow. “Drake has been located. He should be arriving shortly, Father wants all of us in the Cave.”

When they arrived, Tim was already there.

Old photographs of the kids hung on the walls, baby photographs that no one was quite sure how Bruce had procured. Or were too scared to ask about it at this point. The photo nearest to the door of the kitchen was one of Tim’s, an image from when he would have been around eight. He had been a small child.

This Tim was even smaller, clinging to Kon with one miniature hand and arguing with the Batman.

“Why am I here?” he said, large eyes narrowed at the crowd assembled before him. Dick must have not missed much. He spotted Clark in his Superman costume, sporting the awkward look he got sometimes when any of them talked back to Bruce.

Bruce was still Batman, only his cowl was lowered to reveal a tense face. "You are compromised. It would be safer for everyone if you remained at the manor."

Baby Tim's face screwed up into an adorable pout. Dick physically held himself back from scooping up his (currently) youngest brother and wrapping him in a blanket. The third Robin possessed a youthful quality to his looks, often appearing much younger than he was, and Dick had never considered its devastating effect. He wondered how Bruce had stopped himself from adopting Tim on the spot. According to all Dick knew about Tim's pre-Robin years, he's been attending many of the same parties as Bruce.

"I know I look 3, but I'm not actually that age, B. I won't snitch, you don't have to worry," says Tim. He looks to Kon, who nods his agreement.

"Uh, yes sir. Tim's his usual self."

Which is not exactly the problem Timmy. "Nevertheless, I think the team would rest easier if you remained home today." If you hadn't known Batman for as many years as Dick had, you'd think he didn't care, but all of this was pretty much Bruce-speak for ‘I am very concerned about you, please stay in my field of vision for the foreseeable future’.

Dick couldn’t judge. There was something about Tim, his smallest brother (since Damian had recently surpassed him in height a few months ago; something they still managed to fight about) becoming even smaller. Tim was also just really freaking adorable. He had those big blue eyes, a shade lighter than Dick’s, chubby cheeks and he was also clad in the smallest Superman t-shirt Dick had ever seen. Which actually, he flicked a look at Kon, was probably meant to be a Superboy t-shirt.

Anyway, Tim was cute and Dick wanted to hug him. He was also painfully vulnerable and had so many enemies and why would they let him out of the best-protected place in Gotham when he could be safe right here? Matter resolved.

“I can’t waste time over here, B. I have other responsibilities.” Tiny Timmy sighed and rubbed his small hands up and down the bridge of his nose and Dick was grasped by a sudden urge to dress him up in a miniature suit and provide him with a small briefcase. And then take a fuck-load of pictures. Tim proceeded to yawn adorably, therefore proving that the mini photo shoot needed to happen now. “Red Robin aside, WE needs me.”

“What’re they gonna do with ya right now, baby bird? Nap time?” crowed Jason.

The glare that Tim aimed at Jason was poisonous enough for it to have been terrifying, but at the moment, Tim was 3 and just about the most precious thing anyone in that room had ever seen. Dick cannot hold himself accountable for swooping in from behind Bruce to scoop up his smallest brother into a tight hug.

Tim’s frail little bones knocked harmlessly against muscles gained from years as an acrobat and vigilante, so Dick was free to squeeze in a way Damian would have never allowed and Jason would have bit him for. “You’re so cute, Timmy! Why did you never tell me you were adorable?”

“I’ve always been adorable,” sniffed Tim, weak arms straining against Dick’s chest in an effort to pull me away. “Now lemme go… I need to sign contracts and drink coffee.”

“And chase down the bitch-ass magic boy,” added Kon, his face impassive.

“And chase down the bitch-ass magic boy,” repeated Tim.

To his credit, Bruce only raised an eyebrow and continued; “All of which can be handled from here. I will return to Wayne Enterprises and we will cite your absence as a family matter. Zatana is due to arrive shortly, we will know anything vital to your current condition. Red Robin’s patrols will be covered by the rest of the team in shifts. Any running cases will need to be handled by the other vigilantes in Gotham.”

Tim ceased his relentless wriggling and swerved his head to Bruce. “That’s really… nice of you, Bruce,” said Tim. His small forehead wrinkled in thought. “But I don’t mean to impose for long. Kon and I can handle it.”

“Tim,” began Bruce, and then stopped. Because Tim had fallen asleep.

This is just a little part. The actual fic is 18k words omfg so if u enjoyed I put in the link to the whole thing down below. Please tell me what u think!

#Batfam #Tim drake #Dick Grayson #Jason todd

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galaxythreads · 6 months

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To be honest, I don't know. If you'd asked me a few years ago I would have honestly said no and been kind of offended anyone could hold Loki accountable for anything. But the thing is - now, after a lot of therapy, I don't think that mental illness or distress is an excuse for hurting people unless it is a genuine psychosis. If I was Loki's lawyer, which I'm not, I would say he was experiencing temporary insanity (a type of psychosis sort of) at the end of Thor 1.

But here's the thing, even if Loki wasn't really aware that what he was doing was wrong - did he still hurt the people around him? Yes. He did. Thor will carry lifelong mental scars from that fight. So to me, it's a gray area. Loki may not have understood what he was doing was wrong per se, but Thor was still hurt anyway. And this is not, in any way, a trade-off. Thor has hurt Loki in the movie, so Loki gets one free pass for all that he did to Thor? No. Not how this works. You don't get to hurt someone just because they hurt you. Like that works in fiction as motivation because it's fiction. Thor was hurt, and Loki was hurt. Their relationship is a mess and that was the point of the movie. They both hurt each other.

In the Avengers, Loki's official, MCU given body count may be 80-160ish people, but what about injuries? Mental trauma in the aftermath? Grieving loved ones? That's a minimum of 1000+ people affected.

And here's a not-so-secret secret: I don't think Loki was mind controlled in A1. I don't.

I know MCU has said Loki was being influenced by the scepter, but what does that even mean? They've never explained and Loki doesn't behave the same way that Clint or co did when they were mind-controlled. The scepter clearly has WEIRD effects on people, but what that means for Loki is ?????? They've never explained that further than a couple of sentences and before I accept this as being like canon-canon, I have to know what that means.

I will happily die on the hill that he was tortured by Thanos -- you will pull that from my dead, rotting fingers -- and that is a type of coercion that would absolve a lot of guilt, but I do and don't think Loki bares some responsibility for the invasion. I don't know. It's a gray area. I like the idea that Loki was tortured and then he agreed to attack New York to escape it. Mostly because I'm not afraid to wrap characters in darkness. I think Loki is allowed to have done something awful to escape something equally awful. Gray area. I'm not afraid to poke at the gray area.

But the thing is? Even if Loki 100% absolutely bares blame for Thor 1 and Avengers 1, canon matters very little to me in MCU anymore. They haven't given me anything I was happy to accept into my personal canon since Infinity War. I write fics with whatever now. I characterize Loki off of OG Loki and will continue to do so until I die, sometimes I put in that he was mind-controlled, more often than not I don't. I write Loki as a good person who did an awful thing to escape a worse thing that defines the rest of their existence but they're still trying to be a good person anyway. When I engage with Thor 1, I write Loki as having gone through a massive psychosis, but still having hurt Thor. I write Thor and Loki's relationship as both of them having hurt the other but still willing to burn down worlds for each other. Y'know, just a tad (lot) unhealthy. (But in a fun way because this is fiction and no one is hurt by it). Like my version of canon is slightly detached from canon and I know that, but like? I don't care. No one cares? Do you know the amount of comments I've gotten about a character being ooc in the last 1-2 years in MCU?

Because what even is canon at this point? I could write Loki as literally anything and there would be a canon justification for it because Loki's canon characterization is such a mess now that there's no "correct" version of him anymore.

Like guys -- I write about Hela being a good sister. Do you think canon backs that? Absolutely not. Do I care? No?????? no I don't. She, Thor, and Loki are the best siblings in my heart and I will continue to write about that despite what canon says.

Once I let go of the idea that every character I like is secretly a 100% moral human being who is free of any guilt or terrible things, it relieved a lot of guilt and expectations I have for the characters. One of my main characters in my original book series has a body count in the actual millions and I absolutely adore them, okay? Because it's fiction. No one is hurt by me liking this character. I'm not going to start advocating for death. I've liked Loki since I was 15, and I didn't grow up to be a murderer. Honestly, now I kind of prefer the little bit of darkness because redemption stories are just my Thing TM. I love, love taking the dark or dark-adjacent characters and then dragging them into a found family against their will.

So I don't need Loki to be free of all guilt in order to like him. But I'm also happy to explore the idea that he is because it's fun either way. Darkness or less darkness, he's still just Loki.

(That's why I'm having fun with the Loki season 2. Because to me it's like a fic that took one interpretation of what happened and rolled with it. Because canon is whatever at this point. Loki in the series did attack New York by choice. Does that strictly agree with canon of A1? No. Absolutely not. They're ignoring so much, but the series isn't about that event specifically even as much as I wish it WAS, it's about Loki's relationship with the other characters. Idk. It's complicated.)

Fics are often a love letter to canon, an exploration/extension of what canon is, but other times they're someone looking at canon and going "WHY." and then rewriting it. I'm in the latter part now. I used to be the former, but MCU is just. MCU now. So I kind of looked at Loki and Thor, took a cookie cutter to both of them and then left with that. There's still other dough, but I don't care about it.

So yes I hold him accountable. And no. And kind of both?

#loki #thor #loki and thor

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gabessquishytum · 9 months

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Continuing to "yes and-" the winged Dream rescue fic: I'm imagining as Dream is learning about Hob/humans, he doesn't fully grasp at first what things he experienced with Burgess aren't true of all humans.

Like, okay Hob is much gentler in his general caregiving, and talks more soothingly and is generally nicer, and he makes Dream feel so good when he tends to his wings. But part of him assumes the actual sex part has to hurt. Maybe that's just how humans have sex. Maybe that's just a side effect of the two different species sleeping together. Maybe, in some twisted up way, it's Dream's own fault that it hurt simply because of what he is.

But he really, really likes Hob, and he wants to make him feel good too. And he figures, if that's the only time Hob causes him pain, well, he can live with that, especially if he gets everything else in between.

Hob of course noticed how tense and scared Dream is the first time they wind up in bed together (Dream tries to hide it, but since they rely a lot on non verbal communication while they learn each other's languages, Hob has gotten very good at reading him) so he spends a long time just kissing and massaging him. He massages his wings in a way he's learned isn't sexual, and then he massages Dream's arms and legs and shoulders and the tense line of his neck, and each time a muscle unspools under his hands, he covers it in kisses. By the time they get to actual sexual foreplay, Dream is boneless and purring. Hob strokes his feathers and Dream pets the fur on his chest, and Hob makes sure when he finally gets inside him that absolutely nothing hurts.

Dream still isn't sure if it's a human thing or a Hob thing, but it doesn't matter. He's never letting go of Hob to find out.

Yes!! I love the way Dream is getting to experience physical touch in a non painful and non sexual way. Over his time in captivity he didn’t get any kind of gentle physical stimulus so he’s super sensitive to it. Even Hob holding his hand feels like a lot, but he really does enjoy it.

He never imagined that the sex could feel good like that, too. That Hob would let him go under the blankets so he feels safe, and spend so much time and energy making sure that Dream is relaxed. From Dream’s previous experience, all of this feels completely strange and foreign. But he doesn’t want it to ever stop.

The sex itself leaves Dream feeling all boneless and floppy, after. He has to be carried off for a bath and a meal, and Hob is still so gentle! He makes sure that Dream feels clean and gets him all covered up in his favourite clothes. Dream looks at him with wide eyes and he’s like... “did we have sex? was that really sex? you promise?” Because he still can’t believe that it felt so good.

#the sandman #dreamling #nsft

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burningablaze · 1 year

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EraserMic Family - A Nice Monster

A/N: @made-by-jade-222 , you're my favorite writer and I’m so glad you're back. You made your stories feel so special and made me feel happy. My favorite stories that you used to write was EraserMic family and I really loved those stories so I thought up this fic that reminded me of you. Maybe when you get around and get a chance to read this, I want to let you know that you feel special to me 💖

Summary: Eri wakes up from a nightmare and runs to her daddy and papa. Aizawa and Yamada did everything they could to comfort their baby except for one method. A method that will always gets her to smile and ready to go back to sleep again.

Lers: Yamada and Aizawa

Lee: Eri

Words: 960

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Eri stirred in her sleep, her face contorted in fear. She murmured something unintelligible, and her body shook as if she was trying to escape something. It seemed that Eri was having a nightmare, her subconscious mind struggling with some unseen terror.

Suddenly, Eri awoke from her nightmare with a start. Tears began streaming down her face as she realized the dream's terror was not absolute. She felt overwhelmed with emotion and began to cry, her body shaking with each sob. She was filled with a sense of relief that it was only a dream, but the fear it had caused still lingered.

She quickly got off her bed and sprinted out of her room. She was eager to get to her dad and papa's room. Tears streamed down her face as she called out to her parents. “Daddy! Papa!” She shouted, her voice echoing down the hallway. She was eager to get to them, to be in their arms, and have them comfort her.

Eri burst into her parent's room and found Aizawa and Yamada sitting comfortably on the bed, seemingly minding their own business. Upon seeing Eri, they quickly dropped whatever they were doing and got worried, as she looked so scared.

“Eri, sweetheart, what happened?” Yamada asked. Eri began to cry again and ran up to their bed. She crashed into Aizawa’s arms and sobbed in his chest. He gently tried to comfort her, saying, “Hey, hey, hey, it’s alright, Eri. It’s okay.” His words seemed to have a calming effect on her, but she was still shaken up.

Aizawa asked, "What happened, Eri?" Eri wiped her face and sniffled before responding. "I had a really bad dream. You and Papa were gone. I thought something happened to you, and I got scared," She said.

Yamada frowned as he gently rubbed Eri's back. His voice was full of love and compassion as he spoke. "I'm so sorry that happened to you, honey. We love you so much, Eri, and we will never leave you. You are so important to us, and we will always be here for you."

He kissed Eri on the forehead and held her along with Aizawa until she stopped crying. With a final hug and a gentle smile, he let her go and looked into her eyes. “How’re you feeling?” Yamada asked.

“A little better,” Eri said. “Will you be able to go back to sleep tonight?” Aizawa asked. “I don’t know. I’m still scared.” Eri trembled. She was still afraid to go back to sleep after experiencing a dreadful dream.

Yamada snapped his fingers after he thought up of an idea. “How about we tell you a story about a monster who can protect you while you sleep?” He suggested. Eri tilted her side. “A monster?” “Yeah, and he’s a nice monster, too,” Aizawa added.

“What kind of monster?” Eri asked. Yamada gave her a sly smile. “It’s a special monster,” He said. “It only comes out when you’re really scared.” “Here,” Aizawa picked her up and adjusted Eri to lay on her back against his belly. “This kind of monster uses a special technique to get laughing if your sad.”

“What kind of monster is he, daddy?” Eri asked. “He’s the tickle monster!” Yamada shouted out of nowhere and started to tickle her sides, making her giggle. Eri squealed with laughter as Yamada tickled her. "Ehehehehehehehehe papahahahaha!" She said between laughs and curled her arms against her sides.

“And the tickle monster had decided to come to visit!” Aizawa joined his husband to tickle Eri. She wiggled side to side when she felt fingers fluttering against her belly.

“Ehehehehehehehe it tihihihihickles!” Eri squealed. “He tickles you under here,” Yamada tickled Eri under her arms. “Ahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!”

“He tickles you over here,” Aizawa scratched her sides. “Ehehehehehehehehe nohohohohoho!”

“He tickles you all sorts of places just to get you laughing and squirming all over the place until you feel all better!” Yamada taunted Eri as he continued to dug his fingers into her underarms.

“Papahahahahahahahaha! Ahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!” Eri kicked her legs and rolled around, filling the room with the sound of her sweet laughter.

Yamada gasped. “I know another good place to tickle!” He scooted down the bed and grabbed hold of one of Eri’s ankles. “Your cute little feet!”

“Not my feheheheet, papahahahaha!” She cried as she tried to pull her leg away from one of the tickle monsters, but the other tickle monster pulled her back down and tickled her tummy.

“You're not going anywhere, little miss! Not until I had my fill!” Aizawa said playfully. He kept her on his lap while Yamada skittered his fingers all over Eri’s foot. “Ehehehehehehehehe nohohohohoho! Daddyehehehe! Papahahahahaha! Ahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!”

Eri kicked her leg to get her papa to let go, but Yamada got a tight grip and tickled her toes. “Deliver the final blow, Shouta!” He encouraged. Aizawa smirked and lifted Eri’s pajama shirt to blow a deadly raspberry. His stubble made it worse.

“AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA DADDYEHEHEHE!” Eri shrieked and tried to push Aizawa’s head away, but it was no use. She didn’t have enough strength to make him stop, and he was a lot stronger than her.

After the two tickle monsters had enough of torturing their daughter, the three of them snuggled closely together. Eri gave a loud and long yawn. “Looks like our little sleepyhead is tired,” Yamada said as he pushed a strand of hair out of her face. Aizawa yawned as well. “I hate contiguous yawns. Yeah, I’m tired as well. Eri can sleep with us for tonight.”

Eri had already fallen asleep before Aizawa noticed and turned off his lamp. “Hmph, goodnight, baby girl.” He and Yamada got comfortable in their bed and ensured Eri was safe and sound asleep.

#mha aizawa #mha yamada #mha eri #ler!aizawa #ler!yamada #lee!eri #ticklish!eri #mha tickle #mha tickle fic #mha tickle fanfic #mha tickle fanfiction #mha shouta aizawa #mha eraserhead #mha erasermic #mha hizashi yamada #mha present mic

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svltzmans · 7 months

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hope mikaelson nsfw alphabet

hope mikaelson x fem! reader

a/n: hi! since i did the fluff alphabet for hope i wanted to do this one too 😚 i'm not sure who originally wrote this template but thanks to them! i hope you all enjoy this while i'm still perfecting my upcoming longer fics

warnings: smut (18+), this gets pretty explicit

a = aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

hope is huge on aftercare. she is absolutely the type to run you a hot bath, make you a snack, and lend you a pair of her sweatpants to sleep in. she also always insists on sleeping in the same bed as you, so every time you have sex a sleepover is a must.

b = body part (their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

hope is proud of her arms. she trains a lot and has put a ton of effort into making herself stronger. as for you, hope has an obsession with your hands. sometimes she gets turned on just watching you do mundane things because she sees you using them.

c = cum (anything to do with cum basically… i'm a disgusting person)

hope has hundreds of ways to make you cum in her arsenal, her favorite being fingering you. she finds it beyond hot being able to feel you clenching around her fingers.

d = dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

hope is absolutely into public sex and loves a good risk. the thrill of it turns her on even more, knowing that there is a possibility of getting caught. she has her ways of making sure you never actually do, though.

e = experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

hope has had minor experiences with men, but she's not very experienced with women or overall, really. she is a very quick learner though and absolutely knows what she's doing.

f = favorite position

hope is the type of person to get off on her partner's pleasure, meaning her favorite position is having you sitting on her face. she would happily lay there for hours, looking up at you and seeing the effects her tongue has on you.

g = goofy (are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

being humorous in the bedroom is definitely something hope would do from time to time, especially with her somewhat dirty sense of humor, but sex is mostly a serious and intimate experience for her. she loves the sensuality of it and being that close to you.

h = hair (how well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

hope isn't really particular about this kind of thing, and she knows you don't mind body hair. she will usually trim for the sake of convenience.

i = intimacy (how are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

hope is a truly intimate and romantic lover. she spends a lot of time working up to sex with kissing your body, massages, etc,. she wants to show you how much you are loved before and during your intimate moments.

j = jack off (masturbation headcanon)

on the rare occasion that you're not around, hope will send messages telling you how badly she wants you, and get herself off to the way you respond to her with paragraphs of exactly what you would do if you were there.

k = kink (one or more of their kinks)

hope is not the kinkiest, but certainly not the most vanilla either. other than the public sex i mentioned already, she loves dirty talk, being marked with hickeys, praise and degradation, stuff like that.

l = location (favourite places to do the do)

the bed, whether its yours or her's, is the most comfortable place for hope. however, she has absolutely been known to get in the shower with you from time to time, and things usually escalate quickly.

m = motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

just about everything you do has the potential to turn hope on. one thing that does it for her in particular is seeing you in a bra and sweatpants when you're working out or just lounging around. that combination drives her insane.

n = no (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

anything that causes you pain is an immediate no for hope. she isn't interested in bdsm or anything involving pain.

o = oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

eating you out is one of hope's favorite things to do, and that is not an exaggeration. she's also wildly good at it, and as i've written before, she can have you coming down from an orgasm in a few minutes flat. she loves to receive too, and also always finishes quickly with your mouth on her.

p = pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

hope's pace depends on the type of mood. sometimes she has her hands all over you, grabbing every part of you she can while you're aggressively making out, while other times she gently has her hands on your face while you kiss.

q = quickie (their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

hope would much rather have proper sex that lasts some time, but if you are both turned on and don't have a lot of time she is absolutely down for a quickie.

r = risk (are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

hope is all for trying new things in the bedroom. if there is something you want to try and you bring it up to her, she will try anything once (except for pain and other obvious hard limits.)

s = stamina (how many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

dating hope is quite the ride (no pun intended.) she doesn't last particularly long and you usually make her cum in a matter of minutes, but she can go several rounds and won't stop until you do.

t = toy (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

hope definitely owns a few toys that she uses on both herself and you. she has a vibrator that she loves using on you, especially holding it on your clit and watching you squirm under her. (she also owns a strap for sure but i can't get into that rn i'll write about it forever)

u = unfair (how much they like to tease)

hope is a huge tease, and wants to have you begging for her whenever she can. she definitely likes edging you and seeing the desperation in your eyes and hearing it in your voice.

v = volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make)

hope isn't afraid to make noise during sex, especially when you touch her. she's not super loud a lot of the time, mostly just whimpering, but she will moan loudly from time to time, especially if you're going down on her.

w = wild card (get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

hope is obsessed with having her neck kissed. it's one of her major turn ons and gets her in the mood instantly.

x = x-ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

y = yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

hope has a pretty high sex drive, but not so high that it's hard to maintain. she usually likes to have sex every day but won't complain or be upset if you don't.

z = zzz (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

hope won't sleep until she knows you are asleep. she always wants to take care of you first with the proper aftercare.

#hope mikaelson #hope mikaelson x reader #legacies #legacies x reader #hope mikaelson x fem reader #the originals x reader #hope mikaelson headcanons #hope mikaelson x fem! reader #hope mikaelson smut #hope mikaelson imagine #hope mikaelson fic

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awildlion · 2 months

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Finding A Way

Johnny Silverhand x V

A quick hurt & comfort fic because I had a night and I gotta get my emotions out. First fic I've posted on tumblr in years but I can't stop thinking about this pairing

!!! TRIGGER WARNING: SUICIDE !!!

It had only been a week since Night City's most notorious terrorist had taken his parasitic residence inside your head, but it felt like it had been years. You really get to know someone once they're physically unable to leave your side; and despite your frequent spats over trivial things like cigarettes and which gun is better, you've slowly grown fond of Silverhand. Despite the fact that his engram was slowly deteriorating your neurons, you had quickly gotten to the point where you didn't know what life would be like without the sarcastic asshole constantly by your side for his own version of moral support. Some could argue that he was a bad influence, but in the loneliest city in the New United States of America, any company was company worth having. And despite his cynical attitude, you could tell he was growing fond of you too. Perhaps it was your personalities merging as the engram slowly consumed your brain, but it had become easier to find common ground in the struggle of existing together. Maybe it was also pity from Silverhand's perspective that had made him more agreeable, as the side effects of losing yourself became more obvious.

It had started with the migraines, blurry vision, similar to the neural viruses you had experienced working as a merc. Over time though, your mental awareness began to wane. You often found yourself staring at nothing in particular, unable to gather your thoughts or make the witty responses you were known for. Forgetting things was another common side effect, and recently the people once important to you had also begun to fade from your mind. You felt slower, as if twenty pound weights were being added to your body with each day that passed. Your whole body had begun to ache, and neural shocks seizing your body had only grown more common place. As the hopelessness of your situation continued to sink in, it felt like your body had begun to check out; and the jolting pain as your own nerves were burned out of your brain by the biochip was a constant reminder of your impending fate.

Sitting atop Misty's Esoterica in the shitty plastic chairs she had introduced you to, you look out to the bright lights and take a long drag of your cigarette. You cough as the chemicals fill your lungs, closing your eyes tight to try and bring back memories of a happier time. Your parents, what did they look like? You remember looking up to them, but their faces were just an unrecognizable blur. It hurt that even the people who brought you into this world were no longer anything but a fading relic, and so you fill your lungs with more smoke to distract yourself from the haze filling your brain. You stand from the chair, flicking your cigarette into the half filled ashtray and walking to the ledge to lean against it and take in the views. You peer over the edge, trying to spot Jackie's motorcycle parked on the pavement below. As you bring your gaze upward, you feel another jolt from your brain travel down your body- making your twitch and cry out in pain and frustration. The shocks were growing more intense and frequent with every hour, and you could feel your window of opportunity towards recovery from the damage quickly closing. Fighting through the pain was getting harder to the point where you questioned if your life was worth the effort. After all, you still blamed yourself for Jackie's death, what did it matter if you joined him in whatever came afterwards? You take another look off the edge, leaning over the concrete barrier and letting yourself tip forward slightly to judge the distance of the fall. It would surely be enough, wouldn't it?

"I know what you're thinking, don't do it V."

"Of course you know what I'm thinking, you're in my brain jackass"

"Just going to give up now? We got some promising leads, Rogue managed to-"

"We got leads, but we don't have time, Johnny.... it hurts. It's getting worse, and I don't want to die in the middle of a gun fight and leave her stranded."

You sigh and look to your left, where Silverhand sits with his gaze averted from yours. He takes his glasses off and folds them, tucking them into his vest and sliding his digital hand towards your arm without turning to face you. You look at the metal hand, that glitches in and out of your perception- a stark reminder that even your closest friend isn't even truly there with you.

"C'mon V, we can go-"

"No." You cut him off, gripping onto the concrete ledge and hoisting yourself to stand on it. You feel the wind blow through your hair as you once again look down into the empty parking lot outside Misty's, and your body sways back and forth as you gather your courage.

"There's no point in putting anyone else in any more danger Johnny, I can't do it. It's fucking hopeless anyways, I won't-" you find yourself choking over your words, your usual stoicism crumbled as you face the end.

"I won't risk losing anyone else trying to save my life."

"V-"

You manage to bring your gaze back to Johnny, who's now looking directly into your eyes with a hand out stretched towards you. Silverhand had never shown much emotion, but you could feel the weight of your shared sadness. He seemed at a loss for words as well, and for a moment, you just stared at each other.

"Please." Johnny chokes out, screwing his eyes shut to try and hide the tears welling up. It catches you by surprise- he's never said please, much less cried in front of you.

"I don't- I can't let you go. Not like this." He murmurs, attempting to grab you with his synthetic hand. You can almost feel the cool metal brush against your skin as he brings himself to stand next to you.

"It'd be over... I wouldn't have to put up with any of this shit anymore." You whisper, feeling your own eyes fill with tears and quickly blinking them away. "Johnny, I don't want to do this anymore."

"I know. Can't imagine how shitty it is to lose yourself like this. But V- I'm not going anywhere." You feel his presence merge with yours, and you notice your hand reaching up to caress your cheek. You lean into the touch, shakily exhaling as Johnny wraps your other arm around your body to bring yourself into a hug.

"We can't end it like this- a stain on the fucking pavement. You're the better me V, the me I wish I could've been. And I won't let you go." You squeeze yourself tighter, unsure who is in control of your arms but knowing that Johnny is trying his hardest to hold you still.

You stand there in silence, allowing Johnny to slide your own hands gently up and down your body. You can't remember the last time you got a hug from someone else, but you knew it felt something like this. Johnny's voice now echoes through your thoughts:

"I've never been good at the sappy shit- but meeting you is the best fucking thing that's happened to me. And if I could rip myself out of your head right now to save you, I would."

"But you can't, Johnny. We both know how this is going to end- the biochip is going to overwrite my mind and leave you with my broken fucked up body to deal with."

"You know, I've come to like your body. Sure, nerves might be a little shot, but it's got you in it, and that's pretty damn great."

You let a couple tears escape your closed eyes, chuckling to yourself at the absurdity of the situation you've found yourself in. You know he isn't there with you physically, but you can feel his soul wrapped around yours, cradling your psyche with his spirit.

"V- no matter what happens, I'll be with you. Even if we fail miserably, I'm not giving up on you, or letting you give up on yourself."

You open your eyes and find that you've stepped down from the edge, still holding yourself in your arms.

"Well.... at least I know that when I finally kick the bucket, I'll have given it my best shot." You manage to curl your lips into a small smile, feeling Johnny reciprocate the smile from inside your mind.

"We'll save you yet, V. I promised you I'd do anything to save your life, didn't I?"

You release yourself from your hold to touch the dog tags dangling around your neck, letting your fingers run along the chain. Underneath that necklace is the bullet- resting against your chest as a constant reminder of the second chance you've been given.

"You already have saved my life, Johnny. Just did it again."

"Third times the charm. Let's go V, maybe grab a bite to eat. I'm hankering for a good slice of pizza right now."

You take another step back from the edge and turn to head towards the elevator, still holding on to the dog tags. Johnny leans against the wall next to the door, a softness in his eyes that you haven't noticed before. You give your arm one more tight squeeze, this time as a message to Johnny.

"Sounds like a plan. Just don't make me put that fake pineapple shit on it"

"Wouldn't dream of it, V."

#cyberpunk 2077 #cyberpunk fanfic #johnny x v #silverv #cyberpunk v #johnny silverhand #suicide tw #hurt/comfort

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kristailine · 9 months

Text

Pay attention, I hope that you listen

'Cause I let my guard down

Right now I'm completely defenseless

HURT / COMFORT ALERT

Hello fam, I posted another kazujun one-shot inspired by the song "If I Could Fly" by One Direction. It's mostly Kazuya centric tho as it explores the effects of the traumatic events that Kazuya had experienced throughout his life and letting himself be vulnerable in the eyes of Jun.

This one-shot is part of a collection of one-shots inspired by songs "Think of Me in Between the Words of a Sweet Melody"

I put a lot of love on writing this one-shot, especially on writing out Kazuya's character. I tried to balance the narrative's focus on Kazuya's struggles and as well as the comfort that Jun can provide for him. I totally do not think of it as out of character for him to suffer from occassional panic attacks with what he's been through, so I really wanted to shed some light on his inner struggles because if we were to portray him realistically, there's always moments of vulnerability.

Anyway school seems to be starting earlier than I expected lmao I'm actually going to class tomorrow. HOWEVER, I refuse to leave my pending wips on hold, I will try my best to keep on writing since I still have a lot of things I want to share and explore about Kazuya and Jun, both as individual characters and their dynamics in their relationship.

Thank you so much to the people who check out my stuff and support it! You all truly make my day and it makes me feel giddy hihihi. I appreciate all of you. Go have a nice day after reading my fics :>>

#both of them are naked in this fic btw but theres no smut #jun kazama #kazjun #kazujun #kazuya x jun #kazama jun #kazuya mishima #tekken #mishima kazuya #ao3 fanfic #hurt/comfort

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novantinuum · 2 months

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cw self harm + fictional character/personal musings under cut (SU edition)

just some stuff i wanted to get off my chest as i reflect on my journey to the Somewhat more stable person i'm doing my best to become. there's a little bit of fic mixed in here.

y'know, to this day, even though i (thank god) never personally dropped to the point of depression of ACTUALLY harming myself... i still think a lot about the whole fic i once had in mind about steven and self harm.

even though i never finished the rest of it, i actually posted the first part of it- a little character study on steven and depression, written pre Future- as its own one-shot. it's here.

this little piece is... one of the more unusual things i've written, stylistically. i don't often play around in second person. but like... for jen at the time... it was written in second person because these were thoughts i was myself actively battling. that cold, empty fog of just... eh. of complete apathy.

and there was a lot more of it, too- sitting half-written in my notes, as i hid in the back storage room of my job at the time and tried not to think about just how easy it would be to "accidentally" nick my finger with the box cutter, just to see what it'd feel like.

...steven discovering that the statick-y jabs of a stray destabilizer he finds bring him a rush of realism he hasn't experienced in a long while.

...steven accidentally nicking himself with his razor when he's shaving (i actually have a whole finished bit for this-)

You’re 16 years, 7 months, and 11 days old the first time you cut yourself. It’s an accident. Or at least, that’s the narrative you claim. You’re shaving the patchy hairs on your chin when it happens. Your hand slips, and you rake the razor across your skin. “Youch!” you hiss, flinching. The razor drops from your slackened grip and falls into the sink. Blood rises to the surface of the nick almost instantly, and with it, a rush of warm, grounding sensation you haven’t felt since the destabilizer stopped having any placating effect on you. A faint shiver wracks your body, your nerves tingling as your brain catches up with the fact that you’ve wounded yourself, that your delicate skin is broken and its cells need to arrange to send clotting agents to the site of impact. Thankfully though, you’ve got a better remedy for woes like these. You lick your finger, and dab a bit of spit on the tiny wound. The skin weaves back together in a flash, pink light sparkling around the area for a second. You stand at the mirror motionless for a long while after this, unable to stop thinking about the intoxicating rush of… of realism you finally experienced again. Of solid, corporal presence. You stare into your dark, void eyes with such laser sharp focus that you don’t notice you’re gripping your fists in a vice like grip until your fingernails pierce though skin. It stings, but you decide you don’t mind the pain this time. You forgo healing the crescent-shaped wounds. For now. At least, not until you leave the bathroom and face the world outside. Not until you have to. Sometimes you’re not sure you’re worth wasting your powers on anyways. - The very next day, driven by a nauseating mixture of obsession and shame, you go to the store and buy a small hobby knife and a set of blade refills. Something you could get away with hiding in your drawers under the socks you never wear, that would never be labeled as “missing,” something all your own. With your healing powers, you figure… it isn’t like any damage you sow to your body really matters. It’s okay. You’re okay. You’re just… finding ways to cope with all these difficult feelings. Ways to feel alive again. Coping is normal. It’s fine. No one has to know.

...steven slipping into a whole habit of self harm and then healing to cover the damage, over and over, a desperate, indulgent impulse entirely unseen by the people around him. ___

i think a part of me at the time was almost... jealous of steven, as ridiculous as it may be to be jealous of an idea who doesn't exist. i was jealous at the thought that- with his self-healing ability- he could hurt himself and then fix it up lickity split with no one the wiser. there's such an unspoken shame to this aspect of depression... to how it impacts you physically. to the scars it leaves. to the sickly smell of your sweaty, oily body after days and days of not showering, not because you CHOOSE not to, but because you're literally unable to bring yourself to.

etc etc.

and so i was jealous of the idea of steven. the idea of someone who could feasibly HIDE all that. and i compressed that jealousy into second person fic. and writing that unposted fic quite possibly saved me from a world of pain. it gave me a much needed outlet in a time where i barely had an anchor to grab onto otherwise.

i think it says a lot that in those days- despite the fact that i had a whole intervention and hopeful ending planned for it- the only pieces of this fic i finished were the parts that was steven actively harming himself, or reflecting on the act of self-harm. back in that time, in the height of my own depression, in the days where i was writing such catharsis-less stories such as Shattering Atlas, it was really hard to imagine happy endings for my favorite characters because i was incapable of imagining a happy ending for myself.

i still struggle a lot with this.

but-

as i prepare to post the final chapter of my lil SUF one-shot anthology Second Skin tomorrow-

i realize that this is me, finally making good on my promise to give steven that happy ending. finally making good on working towards my own. and it may not be an ending for this unfinished second POV fic that i clung to in my days of darkest turmoil, but it's still the ending of an era. and i think it's a pretty good reminder, too.

a reminder that some stories just need time to simmer, time apart from your pen, time to sit in solitude until you're in the right mindset to truly dig into the heart of their themes.

#jen rambles #i cannot be more blunt about the content of this post #i don't really expect many people to read this but it feels cathartic to get out

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