#it's a bit too cold to go out and all today | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

azrielbrainrot · 3 days ago

Note

Hey! I was thinking — "being overprotective of them in front of prospective partners" or "sharing cloths in a totally friendly way" with Cassian?

I think that's a cute print for him, and I'd love to see it ❤️

I love your writing and stories by the way!! 🥰

Say the Words

Pairing: Cassian x F!Reader

Word Count: 1k

A/N: I'm not sure this is what you had in mind and it turned out a bit angsty for some reason, but I hope you enjoy! Thank you for sending this in and I'm so glad you like my stories 🩷

The frigid winter air hits your burning cheeks, breath turning to mist as you walk away from the bar, but even if it was cold enough for the streets of Velaris to be mostly empty on a friday night, it's still not enough to calm the anger swimming through your body.

You had tried to decline Mor's invitation to come out tonight, preferring to sleep off the tiring week instead of drinking and dancing it away. Ultimately your blonde haired friend had gotten her away yet again, managing to bring everyone along to Rita's for a night out. You were doing your best to enjoy it despite your initial reluctance to come, drinking and dancing with your friends like you usually did.

A very well dressed and admittedly charming male started talking to you when you went to get another drink, his intentions more than clear behind his honeyed words and saccharine smile. You had no plans of going anywhere with him, only trying to choose your words to let him down easy, he hadn't been bothering you too much after all, but Cassian had suddenly showed up at your side, wrapping his arm around you in a possessive manner, scaring the poor male away with just a few words. You think you even saw him puff up his wings. All this to drop his arm as soon as he walked away, turning to go back to your friends like nothing had happened, making your temper rise at an alarming rate and prompting you to walk straight out of the bar, uncaring of the cold or the people calling your name.

The two of you have been toying with the line between friendship and more for years, lingering eyes and meaningful touches crossing it a bit more every day. It seemed that every time you tried to cross it, he took a step back though. You've gotten somewhat used to the push and pull by now, but, maybe because of your already dull mood, it reached a breaking point today.

Heavy footsteps sounded behind you, a sigh escaping your lips. Of course he had followed you outside, he would have followed you to the end of the earth. Knowing that a confrontation would be unavoidable, you slow your pace, sitting on a bench by the river, eyes trained ahead even when he stops by the bench, watching you.

“It's too cold for you to sit here,” he murmurs, voice uncharacteristically serious but as caring as always.

“I don't want to talk, Cassian.”

Except you did, it was probably the only thing that would make you feel better right now. You were just tired of pretending, and it seemed like he insisted on it. You were starting to wonder if he knew how to do anything else.

You can see him nod at your words in the corner of your eye, looking down at the heavy jacket in his hands before taking another step and draping it over your shoulders, his scent enveloping you instantly. You had to close your eyes for a moment, telling yourself not to give in.

“Don't stay here too long, you'll catch a cold.” His hand lingers in the air, looking like he wanted to reach out, but he doesn't, he never does. “You can keep the jacket.”

No sooner the words had left his mouth than he turned around. It makes you look up at him at last, facing his back, wings curled into his back as he walks away slowly, braving the cold in favor of leaving you warm as you stubbornly stayed outside instead of winnowing home. You couldn't understand him at all.

“What are you doing?”

He pauses, body visible tensing as he hears the defeat in your voice. “You said you didn't want to talk.”

“So you'll just leave?” Some of the anger returns, standing up and walking closer to him, waiting for him to turn and look into your eyes, almost daring him to. “What was all of that for then?” Your heart skips a beat when your eyes finally meet, the hazel showing all the things he wouldn't say like they always did, but you were tired of reading them for yourself, you wanted to hear everything from him.

“I was just trying to help.”

“Help?” You can't help but scoff, swallowing down the burning in your eyes, the headache that was creeping in. “If you will not make me yours then you can't act like I am.”

“That wasn't-”

“Since when have you been such a coward?”

“I'm not a coward.”

“You're sure acting like one.”

“What do you want me to say then?” His voice was rising in volume, eyes sharp as he took you in. Good. “That I didn't want him anywhere near you? That I almost ripped off his arm when he reached for your hand? That I don't want anyone else touching you? Is that what you want to hear?”

His hazel eyes burned into yours but you weren't going to back down, not now after finally getting something out of him. You would end this game tonight, one way or another.

“Why?”

“Why don't you want anyone touching me?”

Cassian lets out a breath, eyes moving over your head to watch the river for a moment, gathering his thoughts as you push him into a corner. You were about to repeat the same question, or even throw a few choice words at him when he reached for your neck, bringing your face in closer as he bends down, his touch gentle despite the storm raging inside him.

His lips linger over yours for a second longer, maybe giving you time to push him away, as if you ever would, but his patience seemed to be wearing thin as he kisses you at last, lips moving over yours as his hands hold your waist, pulling you closer into him. Your arms wrap around his neck, getting lost in him before your mind catches up to you, making you reluctantly pull away so you could look into his eyes.

“Say it,” you whisper against his lips.

“Because you're mine.”

A smile breaks out on your face. If it hadn't been for the cold biting your skin, you might have thought this was a dream. Cassian's face mirrors yours as he kisses you again, lifting you up into his arms as you winnow you both home, your mouths only pulling apart when your back hits the mattress.

#cassian x reader #cassian x you #cassian x y/n #acotar fanfiction #acotar x reader #cassian fic #cassian acotar #my writing

154 notes · View notes

skzenhatxt-stan · 2 days ago

Text

“𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐅𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧’ 𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭” 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐉𝐚𝐲

warnings - fingering (F receiving), SoftDom!Jay X CuteFem!Reader, A bit of angst, Pet names (Seongie, Baby, Pretty, etc.), Sweet.

note - MDNI (Minors Do Not Interact)/(Interact At Your Own Risk)

description - You had a bad day at collage and Jay helped you.

word count - 896 words

After a long day at collage, all you want is to sit on your boyfriend, Jay's lap as you cutely rant about your day and how bad your collage and its students are, while burying your head on the crook of his neck. Crying.

“Shh princess, I know I know, don't cry pretty” trying to console your sobbing figure he caressed your sides.

“I-I hate it in there, Missed you s-so much S-Seongie” stuttering, somehow you managed to convey your heartful message to your boyfriend who was just melting into a puddle just because of your sweetness.

“I missed you too love, stop crying for Seongie?” He asked you softly knowing that handling your emotional distress is way harder with tough words.

Clutching into his leather jacket, you nodded trying go wipe your tears with the back of your hands which Jay stopped you from. Instead he wiped your remaining tears with his thumb and gave you a sweet gentle kiss on your lips.

You didn't knew how the sweet gentle kisses turned into a hungry and lustful makeout session making you bury your fingers in his soft hairs as he planted hard intense kisses on your neck.

Moaning his name in your sweet vulnerable voice, Jay only wanted one thing and that was to hear these sweet voices till his death.

“S-Seongie mhmm s-so good” you moaned as he continued abusing your skin.

He removed the pretty pink dress of yours just to get to know, you had nothing underneath it. No bra, no panties.

Such a sight to see it was, a beautiful canvas, only for him to paint on.

Your and Jay's relationship was always sweet, cute and innocent at least it's what you always thought. But for Jay, he had lost the count on how many times he had to jerk himself off just by a simple and innocent gesture of yours like kissing his neck and jaw.

Who knows that he might have came just by a simple cute smile of yours, but it is out of the context. (I might've slipped)

For now, seeing you naked infront of his eye, on his lap was a bliss for him, a painful bliss.

He could feel his boner, as hard as rock and he knows... You could feel it too.

He swore to god that he was so shocked at the sight of you cupping his massive hard clothed bulge into your delicate soft hands and squeezing it experimentally with innocence and carefulness in your eyes, making him groan at the soft touch.

“Seongie... You should've told me. I would've helped you” you said softly but for Jay, it felt like you've said the only cure to his life.

“You'd help me pretty? ” he asked cupping your jaw.

“I would Seongie” you said with an alomost unsaid determination in your voice.

Scooting a bit more farther to him, you bend down to examine his hard bulge. You tugged down his sweatpants and boxer at the same time to reveal his angry red tip and massive cock, only for for your eyes to please.

You gasped at the size of it, wondering was it even possible to have such a beautiful big cock. Only god knows.

You bent down just enough so you could take in his cock in your mouth. Boobs dangling, titts perking.

Jay swore he could've taken you in at that point but he controlled himself and removed your hands from his hardened bulge.

“Princess, today it's all about you, for you” He said and spread her legs.

Your plush thighs, softly tingling under his touch now was spread apart, only for his eyes to get the pleasure from.

You gasped at the feeling of his cold fingers spreading the folds of your most intimate part. Clutching onto his shoulder, you softly moaned.

He softly rubbed your clit, making you gasp and moan at the sensitive of yourself.

The soft rubs turned more harsh as the soft kisses turned into bites, you moaned like you were his.

Clutching his soft hair as he put a single thick hot finger of his inside your dripping core, you swore you felt like on cloud 9 as he thrusted in and out of your pussy in an almost practiced motion.

You were trembling underneath him as you felt a coil being built up in your stomach as if it will rip you apart.

Moaning as tears left your eyes at the pleasurable yet unfamiliar feeling, Jay whispered sweet praises and nothings in your ear.

As the knot snapped inside you, you came gushing on his fingers as he helped you ride your high.

He pulled out his fingers form your cunt and slurped all your juices.

“How Fuckin’ Sweet” he said kissing your lips gently knowing that right now you're very tired.

As you lay on his chest naked, he could hear your soft breathing. You were asleep.

Jay layed your sleeping figure down softly as he brought a soft wash cloth and cleaned your lower region with warm water delicately.

The sight of you like this still had him so hard that he needed to go to the washroom again and jerk himself.

He washed himself afterwards and layed beside you. You both were naked in each other's arms.

He wrapped you in his embrace and whispered

“I Love You, My Baby”

#enhypen niki #enhypen #enhypen smut #enhypen sunoo #jay enhypen #enhypen jungwon #enhypen jake #enhypen x reader #jay smut #jay hard thoughts

86 notes · View notes

profundcherrylady · 6 hours ago

Text

Thinking about yoichi isagi dating an Itoshi, Sae and Rin's little sister who is for sure someone unique. Contrary to popular belief, she's very sweet (to him); she just has a bit of a rough exterior. Her nonchalant attitude and piercing teal eyes, along with her unfiltered words, often come off as rude to most people, but Isagi knew better; he had managed to crack the walls she set up protecting her real personality, and he couldn't be happier with what he found inside. People would often stare amazed at how he could read the slightest change on her blank expression, praising how well he knew her to always know exactly what she needed; from just a warm cup of coffee to fight her tiredness to a soft hug to lift up her spirits. Now they were 24 and 22, celebrating two years of being together.

Or at least what she understood by celebrating, which was essentially staying home and skipping her responsibilities by laying down on bed and relaxing like a lazy cat.

A cat. How could he ever need a cat when he has her? He smiled sweetly at her figure comfortably resting; hair tousled and a shirt of his put on to, as she stated before, 'smell his scent' while he was away practicing or training. She could not care less about football or the fact that he couldn't skip his responsibilities to stay with her today, she would just wait until he came home.

"Honey." he called, earning a soft mumble as a response. "Let's go out."

"Why?"

"'Cause it's our anniversary."

"So?"

"So I want to do something nice for you. 'Cause that's what couples do on anniversaries, y'know? We give each other stuff and go out for dinner or something. Do you wanna do that?"

"No." to anyone else that answer might've seen cold and cruel, but not to him; he knew she was just too comfortable to get out of bed, and that saying 'no' to his invitation was her way of saying 'stay here with me'. But she was too stubborn to ask him directly, that he also knew, and yet he felt like teasing her a little.

"What do you wanna do then?" she opened her eyes, finally, and looked at him silently. Her usual blank stare was piercing through him, like trying to non-verbally communicate what she wanted. And it did, he knew, and she knew that he knew, and she also knew that he wanted her to say it. But just like a stubborn cat, she didn't say anything else. She adjusted herself on the bed, changing positions slightly, and stretched; a yawn that almost resembled a meowl escaping her lips. And then nothing else; the message was clear. She wanted him to join her in bed and cuddle, because she missed him while he was out, but fire would fall from the sky before she said that out loud even though they were in a long-term relationship. Typical Itoshi, he thought. It was like Rin calling him 'lukewarm' all over again.

"Just do whatever then..." she finally said, still refusing to admit what she wanted. "I'll sleep.."

"Wanna cuddle?" he could almost see the imaginary cat ears on she had on his head twitch in alert, and the thought almost made him chuckle. He silently walked towards the bed and layed down next to her, where almost instantly she trapped him on her arms. Head laid on his chest and his arm used as a pillow, she became inmediately relaxed as she took a deep breath of his scent.

"You stink." yet she made no effort in pulling away. He could almost hear her purring like an actual cat.

"I'll go take a bath if that's the case." he said it as a joke, and then laughed when he heard her mumble a complain.

"No." he didn't actually stink. He did just return from training, but he took a shower previously right after he came home.

He then placed his free hand on top of her head and started playing with her hair, and she let out a sigh as he felt his fingers scratching her scalp softly, yet just right.

"Better now?"

"Yeah..." she purred, finally letting down her walls again. "Missed you."

"Missed you too." he placed a soft kiss on her head. "You still don't wanna go out?"

"Hmm... too tired..." she murmured. "It's comfortable here..."

"Alright, then. We'll celebrate lowkey this year; let's just chill... you hungry though? We can still order takeout or whatever."

"Noooo... just stay here." she gave him a bite when he tried to sit up. An old habit she (according to Sae) had ever since she was a kid. To bite people she likes; she would apparently always get in trouble for bitting Rin or him when they were little. Their parents would discover the bite marks on their arms and ground her because she isn't an animal, or her teachers would call home after she bit some of the classmates or teachers she particularly liked. It was weird, Sae stated, like Rin's strange habit of drooling and sticking out his tongue. Seems none of the Itoshis can be normal members of society.

"Ouch." the bite didn't really hurt but it was always funny to pretend it did. He didn't mind it; he thought it was cute. "Okay, I'm staying in bed. Happy?"

"Yes."

"You still want your anniversary gifts at least?"

"I don't need gifts, nor anything else; I just want to stay like this." he smiled before moving his head down to press a kiss on her lips, which she recieved happily, his own lips moving in experienced synchronization with hers. He stayed there, refusing to pull away for a while, because she was right. This was too comfortable to do anything else; it was better to stay like this.

Oh, well, the ring on the gift box he had prepared would have to wait another year, but this moment made it all worth it.

A/N: I love Isagi too much y'all 😭🙏

Btw this was inspired by an oc of mine, that's why it's so specific; I was just thinking about her and wanted to write something.

#blue lock #bllk #bllk drabbles #bllk fic #bllk fluff #bllk x reader #blue lock drabbles #blue lock fanfiction #blue lock fluff #blue lock x reader #yoichi isagi #isagi x you #isagi x reader #bllk isagi #isagi yoichi #blue lock isagi #isagi yoichi x reader #isagi yoichi x you #blue lock x you

67 notes · View notes

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 5 hours ago

Text

Three's a Crowd 1

Warnings: non/dubcon and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Steve Abnesti, Steve Rogers, Steve Kemp

Summary: You're offered a deal without all the details.

Note: I'm stupid okay and fixed the description, etc.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

You mop your face with the crumpled tissues. You swear, you cry more about people you never met than your own grandmother. You just can’t help it. No one should ever feel this pain, yet here’s a whole room of people struggling. Just like you.

Martin stares at the floor as the room sinks into the silent aftermath of his words. He lost his daughter in a crash ten years ago and he’s still here. You can see in his posture, in his eyes, that he still feels it as if it were yesterday.

You pinch your nose with the kleenex and gulp. You flutter your lashes and your gaze snags on another figure. Steve sits with one foot up on the bar of the stool, the other extended to the floor. A man his size makes the tall stools look small. His eyes crinkle before you look away.

Rita sighs, “thank you everyone for being here. It’s always nice to have you. As usual, there are refreshments. Please have some before you go. I’ll be here for a bit if anyone needs to chat.” She clasps her hands together and gives a forlorn smile. “Don’t forget to do your journalling.”

Martin gets up first. He doesn’t stay. He goes to get his coat from the rack of hangers. You slide off your seat as a few others trickle over to the table of cups next to an insulated urn and tray of cookies.

You check the time. You have the time to get a few before your shift. You wait your turn and sense another behind you. You grab a napkin and take one of the cookies from the array of chocolate, macadamia, and oatmeal. You glance over, and up, at Steve.

“You off to work?” He asks as he notes your uniform.

“Yeah, again,” you stop and fill a cup of coffee.

“Mm, I couldn’t imagine working after all this,” he says.

“Gotta pay the bills,” you shrug. “I... I hope it’s not overstepping but I liked what you said about your wife today. About how missing her is a reminder of how lucky you were to meet her.” You chew your lip and your eyes tinge. You sniffle. “I’m sorry you lost her.”

“Yes, well,” he takes a cup of his own.

He wears a blazer over a dark red shirt. The cut looks expensive; too expensive for here. And the gold frame of his glasses are a bit dated but the Prada on the arm suggests not. You always catch yourself judging and feel bad. You just can’t help but think he could probably afford better than the free community grief counseling.

“We’ve all lost someone,” he continues. “Your grandmother, right?”

“Uh, yes,” you frown. “She raised me.”

“Sounds like a very noble woman,” he remarks. “Oh, don’t let me keep you,” he checks his watch. The bend of his arm causes his muscles to bulge in his sleeve. “I hope it is a quick night for you.”

“Thanks, Steve. I’ll see you next week.”

“Next week,” he assures you and blows over his cup.

You stop to grab your fleece-lined hoodie before you head out. It’s bitterly cold out but your old wool coat went missing in the work breakroom. At your second job. The first one, you at least get a locker. You tried to factor a replacement from your next check but most of that will go to rent.

You sigh as you approach the stop, nursing the hot coffee and nibbling on the cookie. There’s no shelter there. The winds swirl around you and seep through your thrifted sweater. Can’t complain for a four dollar bargain.

A car slows as it passes and the tinted window rolls down. It’s nice. Sleek. Fancy. Well above what someone working a drive-thru window can afford. Steve shoves his large hand out and waves. You wave back, biting down on your embarrassment.

You turn your attention up the street and watch for the bus. When it comes, the last of your coffee is cold and your fingers are tingling but numb. You sit and rub your palms together as you watch through the window.

You get to the burger place right before you’re set to start. You clock in and put on the mandated visor and start your vigil in the window. You’re not allowed to wear any coat except the company-issued one but you can’t afford to order one. So you shiver in your long-sleeved tee and keep the window closed between customers.

A deep voice greets you from the speaker, “hello, um, might I ask what the wacky sauce is?”

You give it some thought. No one’s ever really asked. They just order extra and throw a fit if you forget it. You turn and grab a packet and hurriedly examine the ingredients, droning out an ‘ummmmmmm’ into the microphone. You do your best to explain.

“Mm, can I get the double without that?”

You agree. It sounds gross once you look at the label. You key in their order as they make it a combo with your prompting. You tell them to drive around and get the machine ready for payment.

You slide the window open and hold back a brrr. You nearly cough as you’re greeted by a familiar face. It’s Steve.

“Huh, what are the odds? I thought you sound familiar.” He smirks.

“Oh, hi,” you offer the screen for him to tap his card. You didn’t take him for the fastfood sort.

“Bust night,” he muses.

“A little,” you agree. “Do you need your receipt.

“No, thanks, sweetie,” he winks. “Nice to see a friendly face.”

He slowly rolls away and you slide the window shut. Ugh, you’re freezing. Not to mention a bit ashamed. It’s not hard to guess where you work since you wear your uniform all too often to the meetings, but it’s another to be seen out in the wild.

Does it really matter? The group is not about judging. It’s about listening. If anything, a guy like him will forget this all in the shadow of the exciting things going on in his life.

#steve abnesti #steve kemp #steve rogers #dark steve abnesti #dark steve rogers #dark steve kemp #dark!steve rogers #dark!steve kemp #dark!steve abnesti #steve abnesti x reader #steve kemp x reader #steve rogers x reader #captain america #marvel #mcu #avengers #spiderhead #fresh

54 notes · View notes

blackcoldcrackedheart · 15 hours ago

Text

Part 1 one in where Buck and Sal face off because Buck caught Sal and Tommy on a "date" here

Buck patted his face dry with his towel, wincing a bit as he absentmindedly touched his lip. The cut wasn’t too obvious, and Buck felt a bit smug that besides that and a slightly bruised eye he had come out unscathed.

He couldn’t say the same about that dick head though.

Granted he was suspended for three days and he figured in the long run, it might have not been worth it.

But God, it felt to sock the guy.

He threw the towel down on the bathroom counter, smirking again when he saw his reflection as he left the bathroom to get himself a cup of coffee.

Three days suspended without pay started today, he wasn’t gonna apologize to the guy.

Obviously.

Buck wasn’t sure what he would do today, besides maybe go the gym when he heard a knock at his door.

He knew it wouldn’t be Eddie or Bobby since they were both on shift still. Maddie had work, so it definitely wouldn’t be her.

He opened the door, mentally prepared for whomever it was. Especially if it was anyone from the 118.

Buck felt himself freeze as he finally registered who he opened the door for. Wearing a worn hoodie, ripped jeans, and dark and gloomy glare was Tommy.

“We need to talk.” The older man told him firmly, walking into Buck’s place uninvited but Buck was almost itching for another reason to get upset now.

“What?” Buck scoffed, not too gently closing the door behind him, “Came over here because you think I’m gonna apologize to your boyfriend?” he asked, knowing that he might have sounded petulant- but he didn’t care.

He was hurting.

So sue him.

Tommy shook his head, sighing as his shoulders slumped as though Buck had zapped the energy out of him. He looked ragged as he scrubbed his face, “He’s not my boyfriend, Buck.”

That had Buck wincing, hearing Tommy say his nickname sounded so unnatural and cold.

“Could have fooled me.”

“What do you mean?” Tommy frowned, looking rightfully confused as he stared at Buck imploringly. “Buck, Sal is my friend.”

“Oh yeah.” Buck let out a deprecating laugh, walking over to his kitchen and hoping the kitchen island could become a buffer for him, “You two definitely looked friendly at Escondite.” Buck hissed, remembering seeing Sal touch Tommy already him shaking. He could feel the adrenaline mix with his anger and sadness, he could barely look at Tommy as he sniffed. “I saw you there with him.”

He noticed Tommy’s demeanor shift, softening and worried as he stepped closer to Buck.

“Buck-”

“Listen,” Buck cut off him roughly, sniffing again and avoiding Tommy’s eye contact, “I get it- I-I pushed you or you-you probably thought I was just looking to experiment with you or something.” He sniped, hating out his teeth were grinding against each other as he got the words out. “Maybe-maybe I’m inexperienced compared to you, but him? Tommy, that guy?” he snorted. “I know it probably means nothing from me, but even you could do better than that guy.” He quickly wiped away a few stray tears, “You-You broke up with me and I get it.” He had to repeat it, more for his sanity than for anything else, “But I-I did love you and I know I love you better than that d-bag.”

Buck refused to look at him, he didn’t want to break. His anger was already ebbing away into sadness.

“So you punched him? Because you thought he and I were dating?” Tommy asked, his voice was rough enough that it made Buck almost break.

“Yeah.” Buck admitted, not feeling an ounce bad for it, “So go ahead.” Buck took a deep breath in and finally looked up, “Yell at me or whatever you want, I don’t care.”

“Structure has been deemed as unsecured.” Deluca shouted over the radio. “We need all remaining firefighters to exit now.”

“You heard the man, let’s get out of here.” Eddie shouted over the flames, they had assisted in getting anyone stuck on the upper floors. They were successful for the most part, all survivors with vary degrees of injuries, but none were fatal.

But Buck could tell the place was falling apart, the fires only seemed to be spreading as the team tried to put the fire externally.

Buck was following Eddie when the radio crackled to life again, “Eddie, Buck, one of the survivors is telling us we missed someone. Forth floor, a man named Nigel Osaki.” Hen radioed through, before either men had a chance to respond Deluca’s voice cut in.

“Negate the request to look for anyone else, you two need to leave the building now.” Deluca ordered.

Buck and Eddie turned to look at each other, confused and mildly annoyed. Buck’s hatred for the guy already was tenfold as he responded back, “You want to leave a worker here?” Buck asked for clarification.

“Do I need to explain that in another language Buckley? Yes. You and Diaz need to leave, the building isn’t gonna be standing for too long.”

Despite wearing a breathing apparatus, Buck could already tell Eddie was giving him a “don’t start shit” look. “We’re not just gonna leave a person in this hell hole, Deluca.”

“Buckley, I don’t care! Get your ass down here, along with Diaz now!” Deluca yelled back. Buck turned off his radio, clenching his jaw as he yelled out “Screw this.” and gunned it back to the hallway.

“Buck!” Eddie yelled, “Where the hell are you going?”

“I’m going to find the last person hopefully. Get out of here Eddie!” Buck warned as he went to find the remaining person. He gave one last look back to see Eddie gun it before seeing a side of the wall collapse.

He really didn’t have a lot of time left.

“LAFD, CALL OUT!” Buck yelled, kicking down all the doors in the hallway, thankful that most of the rooms still hadn’t caught fight just yet. But the smoke had traveled through the vents, making a flume of dark smoke pour out, there wasn’t much point fanning the smoke away but Buck did so anyway as he continued to yell out.

He was sure if he had turned his radio back on Deluca would be cussing him out. He was ready to turn around and catch up with Eddie when he heard it.

A raspy call for help.

Buck kicked down two more doors when he saw it, a man trying to break through the window with no luck.

“Mr. Osaki?!” Buck yelled, causing the older man to jump.

“Yes! Yes!” The man coughed, pulling his badge to prove he was Osaki. “Thank you! Thank you!”

Buck quickly appraised him, the guy seemed to be standing well but he was having trouble breathing through the heavy smoke. “Let’s go!” Buck ordered, pulling Osaki close to him and giving him his breathing mask. “Let’s move it!” he yelled, startling the older man to rush along side Buck as they opted to leave through the other stair well once they realized the way Buck had originally came through was now blocked by the fire and debris from the ceiling.

Rushing down four flights of stairs during a fire wasn’t easy but nearly twenty minutes later, Buck and Osaki were out of the building, running to get to where the others were on standby and triaging survivors.

“Buck!” Eddie and Hen were the first ones to run up to him, Buck easily passed the older man into their care, accepting a sorrowful “Thank you.” From Osaki before he was led to the ambulance by Eddie and Hen.

“Are you okay?” Chimney asked, patting Buck on the shoulder as Buck tried to catch his breath.

“Yeah,” he gulped the fresh air into his lungs, “I-I think so.” He huffed, laughing to himself and feeling victorious in the most petty way.

“Well good.” Chimney declared, his façade dropping as he nodded towards something that was behind Buck. Or rather, someone. “Because brace yourself.” Chimney warned right when Deluca (and Bobby) reached them.

“The fuck is the matter with you Buckley?!” Deluca yelled, his blue eyes in slits as he got into Buck’s personal space. Not directly in his face, but too close for Buck’s liking. “I gave you direct orders to evacuate!”

Buck felt a sliver of thrill and satisfaction when the half snort/scoff he let out caused Deluca to bristle visibly. “And I ignored them.” Buck sniffed, “You think I was gonna let some guy die on my watch.”

“That wasn’t your call to make!” Deluca yelled, he pointed in the vague direction of where Eddie was (who was half watching Deluca and Buck and half helping Hen treat patients), “You ditched your teammate and you deliberately disobeyed my commands!”

“Well Eddie is a big boy, he got out just fine, And so did the last vic, no thanks to you.” Buck knew his voice was getting rougher and louder with every word.

“Buck.” Bobby warned, “You need to pullback.” he stepped between the two men, trying to separate them as Chimney agreed.

“Yeah, everyone left unscathed. We didn’t lose anyone. A win is a win, right?” Chimney tried to add supportively, only to be met with scathing glances by Buck and Deluca.

Deluca stepped back, but he looked disgusted still as he told Bobby, “This how you run your team, Nash?” he asked indignantly, “Your boy might have saved the last vic, but he could have put that vic, himself, and Diaz in trouble with his stupidity.” He shoved a finger into Bobby’s chest, “And you call yourself a captain.”

Buck felt his temper flare.

So not only was Tommy dating a prick who happened to be a LAFD captain of all things, but the guy was also a douch to Bobby? What the hell did Tommy even see in this guy? Buck knew he wasn’t God’s gift to anyone, but he was miles ahead of this asshole in everything.

‘Screw this.’ Buck thought, “At least he gives a damn about saving people.” Buck spoke up, the edge in his voice never wavering. “And he’s not an asshole going on a power trip unlike some untalented captain who wants to win a pissing contest by letting innocent people die on his watch.”

Bobby, again, tried to get in between the two men but Deluca side stepped him. “You think you’re such a wise ass, Buckley. But one of these days your dumbass is gonna get you and your teammates killed.” Deluca warned, his finger in Buck’s face. “Any captain would have fired you for that stunt.”

“Any captain with common sense would make sure everyone gets saved. Not my fault you suck at your job!”

“Yeah? I was a firefighter when you were probably just discovering how your dick works.” Deluca hissed, “When you actually get experience as a firefighter twenty years in, then you talk to me till then, keep sucking up to Nash like the lost little boy you are.” He spat.

That was the last fucking straw.

That damn dismissal as though he wasn’t worthy of being a firefighter after everything he went through FOR the 118.

Buck chucked his helmet and tackled Deluca to the ground, he barely heard anyone yell as he delivered two blows to Deluca’s face.

He felt something catch his arm, causing him to pause and then he felt a hit to his lip- barely there, but the second hit to his cheek set him off. He wretched his arm back and socked Deluca in the face again before feeling he was being physically reeled back.

“BUCKLEY, ENOUGH!”

(Hen’s faltered a bit, trying to put on clean gloves so she could treat Deluca’s bloody nose and what had to be a dislocated jaw. “Did Buck just fight?” She asked in shock, much to her chagrin Eddie looked delighted. “Oh thank God, he can actually fight.” She rolled eyes as Eddie continued, “What? I was worried he couldn’t throw a punch!”)

Tommy was right across from him now, leaning towards the island enough that Buck felt his strength chip away as the urge to touch Tommy got stronger. “We aren’t dating, Buck. We never were.” Tommy stressed, “Sal is an old friend of mine from the 118.”

Buck raised a brow at that, he knew from Hen and Chim later that that was true. But he figured Tommy was the only one from the “ol’ boys” club that broke away and became friends with Hen and Chim and all the new transfers and probies. They had filled him in about Sal, giving him the cliff note versions of Sal’s time at the 118.

(Buck didn’t feel bad at all for decking the guy still.)

“You said you stopped being friends with any of those guys.” Buck was resolute now, crossing his arms. He never pressed Tommy about his time during Gerrard’s reign since Tommy was so visibly uncomfortable talking about it.

“I did stop talking to them. Specifically Sal since when I came out to him he didn’t take it well.” Tommy explained, he looked uncomfortable now.

“So what was that at Escondite then?”

Tommy sighed, chuckling a bit as he confessed, “He called me because his daughter came out to him.”

“What?”

“Yeah,” Tommy continued, a small smile as he saw watched the realization dawn onto Buck, “He has a daughter, Joanna, she’s 14 and bisexual. I hadn’t spoken to the man in years but I guess with his kid coming out to him he decided to make amends for the way he acted when I came out to him.”

Buck paused, “So you where…?”

“Catching up with the guy after he apologized for what he said and did to me.” Tommy clarified, finally looking at Buck now. “He mostly did it so he could prove to his daughter that he isn’t a homophobe like she thought he was, but he was sincere.” Tommy shrugged, shaking his head as he recalled the call from Sal. “We were catching up that night when you saw us at Escondite.”

Buck thought about it, something still wasn’t right though.

He frowned as remembered how touchy Sal was. “Didn’t seem like just catching up.” Buck accused, “He seemed pretty handsy towards you.”

Tommy stayed quiet for a moment, seemingly recalling that night but then his expression softened. He looked uncomfortable again.

“Not for the reason you think.” Tommy confessed, his voice strained and body tensing as he seemed to waver on the spot. Clearly unsure about wanting to stay or go yet. “I-I told him about you….About breaking up with you and still not being over you.”

Buck felt his heart skip a beat.

“You-wha-?”

Tommy gulp was audible, he was averting his gaze now, speaking but avoiding looking at Buck as though that was enough to break him fully.

“I know I was the one to break us and I don’t have any right to feel this way, but I do. I never stopped missing you and moving on has been the most impossible thing I have ever done. So when Sal asked me how I was coping with dating in LA, I couldn’t lie- I figured I might not see this asshole again so why not just trauma dumping onto him.” Tommy sighed into his hands, balancing his elbows on the island counter. Buck thought that Tommy was probably partly relieved but terrified that said all that. “He was trying to cheer me up, Evan, that’s all.”

Buck nodded, he heard all the words and was in the middle of processing them but he stalled on hearing Tommy call him Evan again.

“You called me Evan.” He hated how his voice cracked at that; his eyes stung with tears. He realized that that was enough for Tommy to look alarmed and walk over to him.

“Yeah, I guess I did.”

Buck licked his lips, his eyes glancing down to Tommy’s lips before he forced himself to look into Tommy’s eyes.

They were so sorrowful looking.

But it wasn’t enough yet.

“You said you miss me.”

Tommy nodded, stepping closer. Buck couldn’t pull away, he felt like he was being pulled by an invisible rope now.

“I missed you so much.” Tommy confirmed, his hand hovering but not just touching Buck’s cheek yet.

“There wasn’t any other guy?” Buck asked, he tried to sound angry or bitter- but he just sounded wounded and filled with yearning to his own ears.

“Just you, Evan.”

Buck nodded, he bit his lower lip, ignoring the heat pooling in his stomach as he watched Tommy’s eyes dilate at the move. “You broke up with me though.”

“I know.” Tommy sniffed, “I’m so sorry. I wish I could undo it.” He let out a huff of a laugh as he admitted, “Sal thought I was an asshole for breaking up with you.”

That got the mood to break for Buck, he was sure he heard that wrong. “Deluca thought you were the asshole for breaking up with me?”

Tommy nodded, clearly pressing a smirk, “He thought I quote “Didn’t know a good thing even when it tries to smack you upside the head”.” He cocked his head side to side, “He’s not wrong. He thought I was an idiot to break up with you, he’s not wrong.”

“He isn’t.” Buck shook his head in frustration, he was still angry but, damn, he missed Tommy too much to not be wistful about the time they wasted. “You broke up with me for a dumb reason.”

“I know.”

“I wanted forever with you Tommy, I still do.” Buck hated how much he had to expose himself like this, but he needed to know. “Do you?” he asked the older man, “Because it’s either you do or don’t. I don’t want either of us to be unsure down the line in six months.”

Warm hands encompassed the sides of his face as he found himself being pulled towards Tommy.

The kiss melted away his anger, his bitterness, and thoughts.

Despite knowing better, Buck felt himself give in and hold onto Tommy’s hips as Tommy deepened the kiss. He didn’t even freaking mind that his lip was still sore from the fight.

It felt like he was home again, lulled into this warm and safe hold that he had missed terribly.

Pain be damned.

“I do.” Tommy told him, their foreheads pressed together and their lips just a touch away. Buck shivered as Tommy’s thumb brushed over his cheek and birth mark. “I’m all in, if its not too late.”

“It’s not too late.” Buck pulled him into another kiss.

This one was longer and led them to the couch….

“So wait, did Deluca actually want us back together?” Buck asked as he accepted a beer. The two had ordered food for (a late) lunch, situating themselves back on the couch with their food in hand.

“Still does.” Tommy nodded towards his phone that was sitting on the living room table, “He wrote back “Congrats assholes”.” Tommy took a sip of his beer, “The sweetest thing he’s ever said to me.” He told Buck dryly, causing the other man to snort before he started to piece together more things.

“Does that mean he knew who I was when he saw me on the scene yesterday?” Buck asked incredulously.

“Yeah,” Tommy confessed, he sat up and turned so that he was fully facing Buck now, “That’s why I came here. Sal is an asshole, but he does tone it down when he’s on a call. He thought it was funny to rile you up. To test you or something, I thought he was kidding when he told me you punched him. That’s not like you.”

Buck sheepishly agreed, “I-I just had a hard time accepting that you would go out with a guy like that. I don’t even get how your friends with a guy like that.”

Tommy hummed in agreement, he massaged Buck’s thigh- missing that simple intimacy as he told Buck, “It wasn’t a date.” He reminded Buck pointedly, before he could continue his phone pinged, “That better be him with good news.”

“Good news?”

Tommy looked at his messages, “Yeah.” He passed his phone to Buck, “I told him he better fess up to Bobby about why he decided to be a dick to you. I told him I would be headed here too since I was pissed at him for starting this.”

Buck read the latest message and felt a slew of feelings.

‘Tell your boyfriend that his suspension got recalled. Told Nash what happened. Consider this a thank you, you dick. Also, your boyfriend owes me a beer.’

Buck rolled his eyes as he dropped the phone between them, “He is a asshole.”

“But he does get the job done.” Tommy teased as he pulled Buck for a kiss.

Buck shook his head at the terrible attempt of a joke but relented as he went in willingly. “True.”

#bucktommy #tevan #bucktommy fic #tevan fic #I made Sal into an A-hole with a heart of gold (plated)

42 notes · View notes

its-hitoshi · 2 days ago

Text

sevika and her gut instincts

you'd say at the end of season 2, sevika, in a way, won. she didn't die -- only lost an arm while finally uniting zaun in some capacity, and becoming its representative to piltover.

sevika has always trusted her gut. it's never led her wrong. however just because she trusts it doesn't mean she's listened all the time

tw: disordered eating, emetophobia

luckily for her parents, sevika was never a sickly child. though the Grey affected her, as it did everyone in zaun, sevika never had a cold that lasted too long. never had blood or grey tints in the phlegm coughed up. what she always had problems with, however, was her stomach. it started when she was small -- when her parents started arguing. though she'll never admit it, one of her first memories is curling up against the leg of the family dinner table -- shoddy and rough with future splinters -- as her parents shouted at each other. now sevika knows that the rent was going up despite wages the piltie owners meted up stayed steadily low. whether that was a result of their zaunite proxy being greedy or the pilties being out of their goddamn mines, sevika still doesn't know. she'll say her stomach hurt from hunger -- which wasn't a lie. but she's long forgotten the stress her tiny body felt as her parents' voices warred against each other. she shrank smaller and smaller until all the stress could go was to her center -- her stomach. it ached.

as she grew older, the same story rewinded. hunger. anger. ache.

when she grew of age, finally, to bleed, it hurt so bad. her parents didn't want her to, but she worked in the mines. it was safer to work than to play and be stolen away, after all. organs were needed in piltover. extra workers were needed in mines that were known to have even worse conditions than this one. she worked and worked and worked through the pain -- swung her pickaxe into the rock. shimmied her way through tunnels far too small for the her of today to fit both arms (metal and flesh) into.

black dust tints whatever she coughs up now. it's like a rite of passage, spitting grey onto the already stained streets. it was only when she was walking home did she feel the warmth between her legs. how it felt wrong, like a knife slowly shoving into her despite how she knows something is coming out. it was the beginning of the last times when she hugged her mother, who explained to her quietly that she was growing up now. she's turning into a woman. it's normal. it'll hurt, but that'll go away (she'll get used to it. she won't bleed very often, especially if there's not enough for her to eat... her mother's heard of the layoffs coming up in the next few weeks. this is their only blessing)

sevika is sixteen when her mother dies. her mother's hope was right. her bleeding came and went. sometimes after one month, sometimes after nine. in time, sevika would realize her body always gave her a warning, as she woke up with her gut cramping up. she can't eat the day she finds out her mother has died. it was a cave-in. it killed all 26 workers of that tunnel. sevika had been in the next one over. her mouth is dry, yet she doesn't get a glass of water. doesn't want any despite how lucky she is to live in a miner's house, one of the few types of houses in zaun that have running water.

the funeral happens quickly. sevika's father says, abruptly, that they need to burn her mother. it's part of her culture. sevika wonders what this culture is -- still does. she was never taught. all her mother ever told her was that her name means servant of god in the language of her mother's homeland. well, the homeland of her mother's mother. she never learned much either. simply bits and pieces of the language. as she breathes in the smoke from the fire, feels its warmth, she wonders when was the last time her mother held her. maybe this was one last goodbye.

the first meal she has after that whole ordeal -- when was the last time she had eaten? 48 hours? 72? maybe more? -- sevika throws up. her father realized at some point that they should eat. he left once he gobbled up what amount was on his plate. left only enough money for their upcoming rent. sevika, instead, ran and threw up outside the house. all she can think of as she stares at the barely digested food is what a waste of money.

her father comes back, reeking of alcohol. the scent stings her nose. sevika has seen the way the winds blow. janna's protection could only last so long for the children of zaun. her luck's run out.

without her mother, the work needed to meet the rent has only gone up. her father's drinking doesn't help either. sevika finds it easier on the body to simply not eat as much rather than take up even more extra shifts. in her free time, she steals. piltover takes all their money -- them and their wannabe zaunite proxies in charge of the mines and and who want to be in charge the lanes because of piltover's greed -- it's only right that she takes some back.

her gut feels weird one day. doesn't hurt, just... weird. though she's seen that the streets are empty, sevika stays in her spot. she realizes she hadn't been aware enough as an enforcer stalks his way down the street where she would have landed.

she listens to this weird, odd feeling. it's somehow always right. it serves her well. she felt it as she walked away from vander. it was with her as finn's voice grated at her ears. what she doesn't listen to is how her stomach screams for sustenance, at times. sometimes food, sometimes for acknowledgement of hurt like it did the first time her father threw a beer bottle at her.

it's easier to drown out when she drinks -- just like her father did. perhaps that's what else she inherited from him. he used to say she was all her mother. all she had from him were her eyes.

smoking comes naturally to her -- what was there to worry about? her lungs shriveling like some silly piltie claimed would happen? it was a 'healthcare' campaign of some sort spearheaded by a rich, spoiled brat. whatever of her lungs the Grey and coal dust didn't already ruin deserved to be dusted with ash she decided to grace it with. (it numbs that ache in her stomach too, which somehow continues to hurt despite how old she's grown.)

her father's dead now -- she let his body float into the river. strapped a bottle of alcohol to his chest -- better quality than what she knows he'd usually drink some days she finds herself on the verge of vomiting even if she eats nothing that day. she doesn't waste her money frivolously at the bar. smokes cheap cigarettes filled with who knows what. she's met vander and silco. they're kind people. they share. she doesn't have to be hungry anymore. she steals enough to sustain herself as most of the money goes to rent. the rest to food, obviously. yet still, her stomach quietly aches.

#sevika #sevika angst #arcane #sevika arcane #inspired by my ibs #also my experience with fires #emetophobia #whump #sevika origin story #heehee #am i just projecting? yes #so what #sevika fanfic #i might post this on ao3 at some point #sevika headcanon #eldest daughter syndrome #are you technically the eldest daughter if you're the only daughter

27 notes · View notes

devotedlyandrogynousyouth · 10 hours ago

Note

Could I request for Clark? That the reader is expressionless. Also that the reader is calm, nurturing. But they only show their expressions when they are embarrassed, could it be spicy too?👀👀👀…

Why yes, I can😁 im so sorry this took so long, my mid year exams are actually kicking my ass😔

Heart on Your Sleeve

You're not really sure when it started- Maybe it was Thanksgiving with Martha, Jon, and Clark. His parents are both such lovely people, never thinking twice before helping out or offering a meal. And you are, too- Martha was absolutely overjoyed when Clark brought you over for your first family holiday. Clark was pretty sure his mother was going to cry out of pure joy when you offered to help cook and wash dishes.

"How's that grease comin' off for you, darling?" Martha's voice has always been sweet, like a bird chirping upon a window sill. If you didn't know the woman, you'd almost think that the honey-ish tone of her voice was mocking. But you did know your boyfriend's mother, and you absolutely adored her.

"It's alright, Ma." Your hands were busying themselves with the pans piled in the sink of hot, soapy water. The response was natural, coming without any thought or malice behind it.

Martha was silent for a short while, her eyes taking a moment to study the completely uninterested look on your face. Not that you knew you were making it, of course- it's just how you look when you're not going out of your way to think about your face while responding to someone. But coming from Smallville, where everybody always shared a smile even in the worst of times, it hurt a little.

When Martha slipped out of the kitchen, you just presumed it was to speak to Clark. About what, you honestly couldn't say. But as far as you were concerned, you just made some small talk with the mother of the man you plan to marry.

Later, after the dinner had been served and everyone was enjoying dessert in the living room, you noticed Clark had been unusually quiet beside you. He had his arm around your shoulders, but there was something subtle in his gaze that you couldn’t quite place. He seemed distracted, like he was looking at you but also through you.

“Clark?” You glanced over at him, noticing how his jaw was slightly clenched.

He blinked a few times before turning his head toward you. “Yeah, sorry, just… thinking.”

“You’ve been doing that a lot today.” You nudged him with your shoulder, trying to lighten the mood. You weren’t sure what had gotten into him, but you were sure it wasn’t anything serious. Clark was usually the first person to brush things off, so this sudden shift felt odd. “What’s going on in that handsome head of yours?”

Clark hesitated, then his eyes flicked to his parents in the next room. They were laughing and talking, clearly in their element. He sighed, his hand tightening slightly around your shoulder as if unsure how to begin.

“Earlier, with my mom,” Clark started, his voice barely above a whisper. “She… uh, she told me that you didn’t seem too happy to be here.”

You blinked, confused. “What?”

Clark bit his lip, clearly uncomfortable. “I know you didn’t mean anything by it, but she thought you looked like you were upset. Like, I don’t know... that you didn’t want to be here?”

You felt a pang of guilt twist in your stomach. The last thing you ever wanted to do was make Martha think you were ungrateful for her hospitality. “Clark,” you started, but he held up a hand, stopping you.

“It’s not that I think you did anything wrong,” he said quickly, looking at you earnestly. “But, you know, my mom… she’s just so used to everyone smiling all the time around here. She probably took it the wrong way.” He smiled softly at you. “You know how she gets.”

You winced, hating the idea that your default expression might have hurt anyone, least of all Martha. You never meant to come off as cold or unappreciative, and it stung to think that she could have seen it that way.

“I’m sorry,” you muttered, fiddling with the edge of your napkin. “I didn’t mean to make her feel like that. I really like her, and I love being here with all of you.”

Clark chuckled softly, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “I know, I know you do. It’s just… well, you’re not the most expressive person, are you?”

You looked up at him, feeling your cheeks flush slightly. “I’m not trying to be. I’m just—this is just my face.”

Clark grinned. “I know. You don’t have to smile 24/7 to show you’re happy. It’s just, well… it doesn’t always come across like that.”

You sighed, feeling a little embarrassed. “I wish I could control it more. I don’t mean to come off as grumpy or upset.”

“I know,” he said gently, his tone soothing. “But maybe you could try to be a little more… expressive? For my mom, I mean. She just doesn’t always get it.”

You chuckled softly, imagining Martha’s over-analytical gaze as she scrutinized you. “Okay, I’ll try to work on it. Maybe I can throw in a smile or two for her next time.”

Clark laughed, his fingers brushing your arm lightly. “You don’t have to force it, but… yeah, a smile wouldn’t hurt every now and then. Besides, you’ve got the most beautiful smile, you know that?”

You couldn’t help but smile then, albeit a little sheepishly. “You really think so?”

He leaned in, brushing his lips against your temple. “I know so.” He pauses for a moment to give your temple a proper kiss, his large fingers moving to gently massage at your shoulder. "I know just how beautiful... all... Of you is," He whispers the last part into your ear, his breath hot against your skin.

"Clark, cut it out," you chastise, giving his arm a playful smack as your cheeks burn red. Even as you voice the order, you both know you don't mean it. But you couldn't have your boyfriend being so playful with you right now- not with his parents sitting on their respective recliners merely a few feet away.

"Smiley, over here," Clark starts in a louder tone looking at his parents as one of his hands rubs at your back slightly, "isn't feeling too well. I think we're going to head up to bed for the night and see if she's feeling better in the morning." What. Utter. Bullshit.

It's not like Martha and Jon didn't notice, either- they were young and in love once, too. Either way, they'd be damned if they called you and their lovely son out for whatever may happen in his childhood bedroom. "I hope you start feeling better, darlin'," Despite knowing the lie Clark had just told her and her husband, Martha still mustered up the same empathetic look she's always given. In a way, it reminds Clark of the few times he got sick as a child.

It isn't long before Clark is practically carrying you up the stairs, giving his mother a small nod of acknowledgement as you both pass. It's funny, in a way, just how easily he could sweep you off your feet- literally. Before you knew it, the familiar 'click' of the lock on his door can be heard before he places you gently on the bed.

"Just how much of a reaction can I get out of you tonight, hm?" His deep, smooth voice vibrates against your lips slightly as he leans down for a kiss. The pressing of your lips is soft and intimate with his body hovering over yours. You could tell he wasn't laying his full weight on you. In fact, he'd probably suffocate you if he did. You'd be lying if you said you didn't want him to suffocate you.

You pretend to give a short, thoughtful look as you pull away from the kiss slightly, your hands coming up to rest on his broad shoulders. "Depends..." You whisper playfully against his lips, your breath brushing against him slightly in the close proximity, "how hard are you willing to try, Superman?"

In the darkness of his room, you almost could have sworn his eyes glowed red at the tease. There wasn't much time to ponder on it, however, as his lips come back down to connect themselves with your own again. Like last time, the kiss is slow and intimate, just like most of your shared kisses are. The soft presses of your lips goes on for what seems like forever, the two of you simply basking in the moment.

As always, your hands had started to wander. Trailing down from his shoulders and resting on his lower back. Clark nearly lets out a moan as your nails gently scratch at his lower back, lifting his shirt just enough for you to feel his bare, heated skin. "Take it off, baby..." Your begging is almost like music to his ears as you pull away slightly, cheeks flushed and breathing labored.

He can't help but let out a soft huff of a laugh at the request, however, muttering something along the lines of "Somebody's getting impatient." Clark doesn't hesitate to comply, though, as he grabs the hem of his shirt to pull it over his head. Just like always, his torso is perfectly chisled from his collarbones all the way down to his V-line.

God, his V-line. You were practically salivating like a rabid dog as the article is thrown off the side of the bed and forgotten about. "And here I thought you were a goody two shoes, Smallville," your voice came as a tease in the dark room, both of your bodies just barely illuminated by the moonlight streaming from the windows as your hands reacher out to trail over his sculpted chest.

At that, Clark merely lets out a snicker. "That's a new nickname," he muses, leaning back down to nudge your shirt up your stomach with his nose. Light as a feather, his lips start to trail kisses up from your stomach, leading all the way up to your sternum. As he reaches the wire of your bra beneath your shirt, his hands mobe to gently lift the clothing over your head. "Not that I'm complaining, beautiful." He adds jokingly, his large, warm hands snaking their way under your back to unclasp your bra.

As your breasts are freed from their confinement, they move slightly in the pale moonlight. Now, it was Clark's turn to salivate at the sight of you shirtless. Every time he manages to get you out of your bra, it's almost as if he can't keep his mouth to himself. Immediately, his lips are latched around your nipple as his tongue flicks across the hardening bud. At the same time, his free hand works at gently massaging your other breast.

"Clark..." You mewl softly, the sound barely more than a hushed whisper of wind in the night. Your fingers are threaded through his hair, tugging softly at the black, curly locks.

At that, he lets out a quiet groan. Hair pulling has always been his biggest weakness in bed. As he pulls away from your now swollen and flushed nipple, he can't stop his hands from wandering beneath the waistband of your pants. As if on second nature, the tip of his middle fingers gently rubs at your needy clit. The motion is slow and languid, his touch bately there to satisfy your needs.

"Honey..." You let out a soft plead, the sound barely loud enough for even him to hear. But before you can beg for more pressure or a faster pace, a long, thick finger makes it's way into your weeping hole. "Oh, fuck-" the whine comes out without a warning, the bliss of his middle finger gently stretching your gummy walls coming with just a hint of pain.

"Shhh..." Clark soothes softly, his other hand leaving your breast and moving to gently cover your mouth. "As much as I love that sound, darlin', I bet Ma and Pa would rather not hear it." The tease comes without any sort of malice, but it's enough to have you clenching around him. Even with the slight pain that always comes with having sex with him, Clark always takes his time prepping you like the pillow princess you are.

As his finger speeds up slightly and a second one is added, you can no longer keep back a quiet string of moans and pleas. "So good..." The whine is like music to his ears, spurring him on to push gently on that spongey spot inside of you and making you arch your back off of the bed. "Oh fuck... Honey, please. Please, Clark." The dragging of his fingers along your tight walls was almost rhythmatic as they moved in and out.

Clark would be lying if he said he didn't smile every time he brought you close to an orgasm. It was still just so amazing that he was the one you trusted to be like this with. Not any other man or woman, not some over-used sex toy you used to have sitting in your nightstand. You used him, and only him. "I have you, beautiful..." he reassures gently, his fingers staying at just the right pace to have you seeing stars. Everything about sex with Clark was always so reassuring and calm, like the way the thumb belonging to his hand covering your mouth gently caresses at your cheek.

In all honesty, you think that might have been what did you in. Your orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave, making your toes curl and push clenching around his thick digits. It was almost funny, the way he had your thighs shaking and quivering without even taking you out of your pants. "Fuck... fuck fuck fuck fuck..." your whines are obscene, even when covered by his large, calloused palm. Even now, when you're wailing because of his fingers, he's still so gentle and mindful with covering up the sounds.

"There we go, sweetness," he coos softly, pressing a barely-there kiss to the side of your abdomen as his fingers slow their pace, "Shh... Inside voice, darlin'. We don't want to get caught before we even have any real fun, do we?" He was being a tease, and he knew it. You almost let out a whimper as his fingers slowly exited your puffy folds, missing the feeling of him filling you up like nobody else can.

The sound was quickly caught in your throat, however, as he removes his hands from your quivering body to instead begin removing his belt. Getting his pants off was always exciting, especially when his fully-hard length was already making an outline through his jeans. God, his jeans... They outline his thighs and ass in just the perfect way to show off his muscles.

At the same time, you took this as an opportunity to remove your own bottoms. Hooking your thumbs into the waitband of your pants and lifting your hips slightly, you sensually push the fabric down while making eye contact with Clark. When you did finally glance down again, however, you certainly noticed the wet patch in the center of your panties from your previous orgasm.

Before you could unhook your ankles, however, Clark beats you to it. Your boyfriend has always been charming like that, never letting you lift a single finger for even the simplest of tasks. As he leans down to press a kiss to your shin, you notice that he reaches over to his nightstand to slip your soaking wet panties into the top drawer. "Gotta keep myself distracted in the Watchtower for that next mission somehow," he jokes softly, finally removing his own underwear.

As always, your mouth waters at the sheer girth of his cock. Something about him is just so pretty and handsome in a way impossible to describe. "Get back down here, Smallville," you almost seem like a petulant child as you reach up for him, making little grabby hands before they finally take their spots on his broad shoulders.

Clark complies without a second thought, holding himself up on his forearms to hover above you. With one hand, he reaches down to gently rub his hardened cock along your clit. Still a little sensitive while coming down from your high, you can't help but let out a soft shiver.

And he has the audacity to chuckle.

"Fourth reaction of the night, in case you were wondering," he mutters mere centimeters away from your lips, your breaths mingling in the close proximity. But before you could give a sassy quip back, his plush lips are pressed passionately against yout own. Ever the caring boyfriend, Clark has always resorted to kisses like this to distract you from the burning stretch of his cock into your tight little hole.

Even with his mouth against yours in an attempt to take focus off of any uncomfortable feeling, you still find yourself gasping into the kiss as his tip slowly nudges into you. The moan you make as he slowly slides himself into you inch by inch is boarderline phonographic, and there's no doubt Jon and Martha were able to hear it downstairs in the living room. But even so, Clark doesn't stop until he's finally bottomed out in you.

He immediately feels guilty, however, as he sees those tears forming in the corner of your eyes while pulling away from the kiss. "Shh..." Clark hushes softly, bringing one of his hands to gently wipe away any of that salty, fallen liquid before pressing his lips to your forehead. "You're okay, sweetheart. You can take it... You're doing so well, honey."

Although it takes a couple of minutes for you to fully adjust to his length and girth with mountains of praise and reassurance, you don't regret it for a moment. "'m ready..." You whisper as softly as you can, already feeling your cheeks heat up in utter embarrassment knowing that your future in laws might've heard you moan while getting laid by their son.

With a short nod, Clark rests his forehead against yours and slowly pulls his hips back, changing their angle ever so slightly before sliding back in. In this position, his cock head is able to kiss your cervix with little to no effort. He can't even stop his own breath from becoming labored with just how well your tight pussy accommodates to him. Something about his huge cock being the only one to make you whine like this just seems to get to him as his hips get into a slow, expiramental rhythm.

Even at such a slow, languid pace, Clark is already letting out soft grunts of his own. Each sound is almost lewd, despite their near-silent nature. You almost envy his super-hearung ability, in a way; how is it fair that he gets to hear your noises while you barely catch his? Taking matters into your own hands, you gently scratch at his back with your nails. You couldn't hurt him, even if you tried, but the thought of you leaving marks like that for everybody to see was something he loved to indulge in.

"Gonna leave some marks, beautiful?" his lips brush against the shell of your ear as he speaks, his hips beginning to pick up a bit more speed. At this rate, your eyes are nearly rolling back as it is, nevermind with Clark's teasing added into the mix. "God, the League won't be able to leave me alone once they catch sight of them. Is that what you want, sweetheart? For them to know just how good I make you feel?"

Between soft moans and mewls, you find it in yourself to nod frantically. "So good, Clark..." You find yourself whining as you pull him closer, moving to wrap your legs around his hips. As he shifts slightly to better accommodate your chosen position, the tip of his cock manages to perfectly kiss that gushy, spongy spot inside of you. "Oh, god... Just like that. Don't stop, honey. Please don't stop."

As your thighs quake around him, Clark can't help but pick up the pace just enough to have you arching for him. In all honesty, he swears his own eyes are almost rolling back as your pretty little pussy takes him so well. "That's it, beautiful..." the words are nothing more than a hot pant against your ear, his childhood bed sqeaking slightly as he rocks his hips into yours.

That tension building in your lower stomach was near it's snapping point, ready to release any stress and tension you may have had. "So close..." the whine is barely audible, made for his ears only. And something about only him being able to hear just how worked up he's gotten you really gets him going.

His middle finger is rubbing circles around your clit in an instant, putting just enough pressure to have your hole pulsating around him. "Yeah, darlin'?" he coos, unable to hold back the soft grunts and moans escaping his own mouth, "Go ahead, beautiful... I have you. Cum all over my cock, honey."

That was certainly your breaking point.

You tried to hold it back, you really did, but the loud moan that came with your orgasm came without warning. Your back was so pretty as it arched up for him, almost as if you wanted to feel all of his skin against yours at once. "Oh my god," the clenching of your twitching pussy around him was absolutely divine, and who were you to stop him from getting his fill?

Even as your eyes rolled back and you began to see stars, you could still hear his nearly incoherent babbling. "Might just have to fill this pretty pussy up with my babies..." you think your hear, but Clark's near-orgasm rambling has always been a little choppy. "Gonna have our own farm with kids... N' get married. Fuck, won't have to stay quiet because there won't be nobody around-" as he cuts himself off with a loud groan, hands grasping desperately at your shoulders, you knew it wouldn't be long until he came.

And he certainly filled you. "Shit..." the groan is barely coherent a his ropes of thick, warm cum shoots out of his overstimulated dick. In all honesty, neither of you had thought to use a condom. Not until it was far too late, at least. Oh well, it's like Martha would mind having a grandkid or two running around during the holidays next year.

You're sure her face would light up if you told her about getting pregnant with Clark's kids.

At least, it would if you could ever face her after the things both her and Jon have heard.

Masterlist

#dc #superman #superman smut #clark kent smut #clark kent x reader #clark kent #superman x reader #clark kent fluff

36 notes · View notes

boba-pearl-writes · 15 hours ago

Text

1/26 - shame - word count: 637 - @rosekillermicrofic

Barty knew something was wrong as soon as Evan came into the common room with red rimmed eyes and his tan skin suspiciously paler than usual.

Well, actually, Barty knew something was wrong when Evan had skipped breakfast. Sure, Evan wasn’t a morning person, but he usually showed up to breakfast before it ended, even if he was a bit late. So, Barty usually didn’t wake him up, and Evan made his way down a few minutes after, groaning and rubbing his eyes like a sleepy cat. It was absolutely adorable.

But not today.

No, today, Barty had been worried all of breakfast and, now that he saw him, his worry didn’t really go away.

Evan stood there, looking a bit like he’d rather go back to the comfort of his bed. Then, he narrowed his eyes as if trying to will them back into focus, and walked over to where Barty was sitting. He dropped down next to him, and sat there, not saying a word.

Barty and Regulus - the ones nearest to him - looked at him expectantly.

“What?” Evan asked, annoyed, his voice rough and raspy. He sniffled a bit, wiping at his nose.

“Are you… okay?” Barty asked, hesitantly.

“Why didn’t you wake me up this morning?” Evan asked in response, turning to Barty. He looked genuinely annoyed, and Barty was confused.

“I thought you needed your sleep,” Barty said.

“I’m not sick.”

“No one said you were.”

“Well, I’m not.”

“Alright,” Barty said, smirking. He knew Evan got annoyed easily when he was sick, but he also knew he couldn’t take care of himself for the life of him. “I was going to go out today. Maybe start a snowball fight… wanna join?” Barty saw the alarm on Evan’s face.

“I�� I can’t today.”

“Aw, that’s a shame,” Barty said. “Why not, Evs?”

Evan was quiet for a long moment.

Barty put a hand on Evan’s knee. “Why not?” He asked again, softly.

“What do you think, Barty?” Evan snapped, turning to Barty. He looked angry, yes, but mostly tired. “Yesterday, I accidentally stayed out too long and now I can’t even fucking talk without my voice sounding like-” he cut himself off, waving his hands around “-this. And, it’s always too fucking cold all the-” whatever Evan was about to say next got cut off by a really harsh cough, which devolved into a coughing fit. Barty rubbed his back, concerned. After he stopped coughing, Evan just dropped back in his seat with a huff and sat there staring at the floor, looking miserable.

From this close, Evan really did look tired. Tired, annoyed, and just,,, frustrated. Barty got that, he really did- he hated being vulnerable in any sort of way and being sick was the worst because of that. He could imagine Evan felt the same- like he wanted to be okay and he wanted to ask for help to get there, but couldn’t.

“Hey,” Barty said softly, and Evan turned to look at him. Barty put an arm around him, and Evan curled into his side, his head dropping onto Barty’s shoulder. He was shivering, even though they were near the fire and it was warm inside. Barty tightened his grip around Evan’s shoulders. “This better?” He asked softly. Evan nodded against him.

Soon enough, Evan’s breaths had slowed down and his eyes had closed. Merlin knew he needed this rest.

Barty rested his head on Evan’s, then noticed Regulus smiling at them. Nothing much, just a small tug at the corner of his mouth, but softer than Barty would usually see from him.

This moment felt a bit fragile, a bit breakable, but one that Barty would hold with the most care his calloused hands could manage, if it meant getting to keep that joy inside his heart.

#first sickfic how is ittttt #hc that Evan fuckin HATES being sick and barty HATES crying. Because they both despise being vulnerable #Oh my emotionally constipated little children #more on Barty’s fear of vulnerability in my next one #tehehehehehe #rosekiller #evan rosier #barty crouch jr #evan x barty #barty x evan

23 notes · View notes

cal-daisies-and-briars · 1 day ago

Note

u already know hehe 🧜🏻‍♂️🧜🏻‍♂️🧜🏻‍♂️🧜🏻‍♂️🧜🏻‍♂️🧜🏻‍♂️🧜🏻‍♂️🧜🏻‍♂️🧜🏻‍♂️🧜🏻‍♂️🧜🏻‍♂️🧜🏻‍♂️🧜🏻‍♂️🧜🏻‍♂️🧜🏻‍♂️🧜🏻‍♂️🧜🏻‍♂️🧜🏻‍♂️🧜🏻‍♂️🧜🏻‍♂️🧜🏻‍♂️🧜🏻‍♂️🧜🏻‍♂️🧜🏻‍♂️🧜🏻‍♂️🧜🏻‍♂️🧜🏻‍♂️🧜🏻‍♂️🧜🏻‍♂️🧜🏻‍♂️🧜🏻‍♂️🧜🏻‍♂️🧜🏻‍♂️🧜🏻‍♂️🧜🏻‍♂️🧜🏻‍♂️🧜🏻‍♂️🧜🏻‍♂️🧜🏻‍♂️🧜🏻‍♂️🧜🏻‍♂️🧜🏻‍♂️🧜🏻‍♂️🧜🏻‍♂️🧜🏻‍♂️🧜🏻‍♂️🧜🏻‍♂️🧜🏻‍♂️🧜🏻‍♂️🧜🏻‍♂️🧜🏻‍♂️🧜🏻‍♂️🧜🏻‍♂️🧜🏻‍♂️🧜🏻‍♂️🧜🏻‍♂️🧜🏻‍♂️🧜🏻‍♂️🧜🏻‍♂️🧜🏻‍♂️🧜🏻‍♂️🧜🏻‍♂️🧜🏻‍♂️🧜🏻‍♂️🧜🏻‍♂️🧜🏻‍♂️🧜🏻‍♂️🧜🏻‍♂️🧜🏻‍♂️

OF COURSE! 1k for 🧜🏻‍♂️:

TW for some sort of quiet transphobia from healthcare providers.

---

Buck rides in the back with him. He looks at Eddie with big, watery eyes. He looks like a puppy that’s been caught peeing on the carpet.

“Don’t do that,” Eddie says, teeth still chattering a little.

Buck does not follow instructions.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers, voice practically quivering. “I should have been able to-”

“No,” Eddie shakes his head. “Not salt water. Too dangerous.”

Buck doesn’t look absolved by this.

“Please,” Eddie says. “Don’t. I don’t blame you. It doesn’t help.”

Buck sighs. “I’m sorry. How are you feeling?”

“Cold,” Eddie says.

“Other than cold,” Buck says. “Are you… You must be scared shitless.”

Well, yes. But not in the way Buck is probably thinking. He’s not thinking about the panic of being trapped. Of nearly drowning. Of thinking he’d die alone. Yes, that had been terrifying. Yes, his body is aching with the physical memory of it, and will continue to do so for hours, he thinks. Days. But that’s not the main thing.

The main thing is that he almost left Christopher an orphan. The main thing is that, if that happened, Christopher would be ripped away from here, back to Texas. Back to the parents Eddie left. He left them for a reason. So his son didn’t have to grow up the way he did. The pressure. The conditional love. The endless scrutiny. That will not be his son’s life.

And then, there’s the less pressing, but still frightening thing. The selfish thing.

He has to go to the hospital.

It’s not like Eddie is scared of hospitals. He’s not. He’s spent enough time in them, between his own injury back in El Paso, Christopher, and his friends’ injuries as a firefighter. He can be in them just fine.

He’s just scared of being a patient.

Maybe it seems cowardly, but Eddie thinks it’s a reasonable fear. Even if he won’t say as much to anyone. See, if he was a cis guy, it wouldn’t be an issue. He’d go, get checked out, and wouldn’t think twice about it. But it’s not that simple for Eddie. He knows. He’s had enough experience. Between Chris and shrapnel in his leg after a call gone wrong, he knows. And he’s not looking forward to it today.

“I’m good,” he tells Buck anyway. “I’ll be fine.”

🌊

Buck watches the triage nurse that admits Eddie walk on eggshells around him. The moment he discloses. Like he’s some medical anomaly, not just a guy who needs a quick look over. He watches Eddie shrink into himself more than Buck has ever seen. It’s all very uncomfortable. Well, it’s uncomfortable for Buck. He can’t imagine how it is for Eddie.

“She’s being really weird,” Buck says when the nurse leaves the room.

“Yeah,” Eddie mumbles.

“Is it always like this?” Buck asks.

“Usually worse,” Eddie says.

Buck feels a tight coil of anger and protectiveness.

It takes a long time for anyone to follow up. Like, long enough, that if Eddie did have anything serious going on - hypothermia, head wound, etcetera - it might have become a problem. Buck goes out twice to check and see if anyone is coming. If the ER was really busy, Buck would get it. Eddie isn’t super high priority. But it’s not. They’re just sort of avoiding him.

When a doctor does eventually come to see him, the experience feels a bit more normal. But maybe that’s because it’s a doctor, and their decorum is usually rushed and uninterested to begin with, when stuck in an ER at night. Buck can’t be sure. Regardless, Eddie is fine. Cleared to go home. Which is a relief, except for the fact that it looks like the hospital visit really took it out of him.

“Should we… I don’t know… Complain or something?” Buck asks on the drive back.

“No point,” Eddie says. “They didn’t actually do anything wrong.”

“Well, no… But they could’ve if-”

“Honestly, it’s fine,” Eddie says. “It’s been way, way worse.”

“That doesn’t actually make this better,” Buck protests.

“Buck, I don’t want to talk about it. I love you, and I appreciate that you care, but can we just not?”

“Okay,” Buck says quietly. “Sorry.”

“S’fine,” Eddie mutters back.

Buck feels like he put his foot in his mouth somewhere but he’s not sure where. He also knows that he might be projecting, just a tiny bit. He’s been terrified of being found out, himself, in the hospital. Of being treated like a creature or a medical marvel. Obviously it’s not the same for Eddie. This is a reality for Eddie, not a hypothetical fear.

And still, Buck hates how useless he’s been about everything Eddie has gone through today. He hasn’t been able to help at all. He feels entirely useless.

🌻

Eddie can’t sleep. Not for long, anyway.

Despite being tucked under many, many blankets, dressed in his warmest pajamas and sweater, and having Buck as a human heater beside him, Eddie still feels cold. He’s not sure how much of it is psychosomatic. But he still feels like shivering.

Maybe it’s something else. Something more pressing than the cold. An unchecked blindspot that nearly caused a fatal error tonight.

He can’t stop thinking about it.

What if he had died?

ii.

For days after Eddie’s near brush with death, Buck is feeling off at work. It’s the sort of sudden burst of insecurity that he hasn’t felt since he was a probationary firefighter. Since he lost someone who let go on that damn rollercoaster. Since he couldn’t save body without becoming other than himself. Like there’s just something fundamentally insufficient about him. He knows that he’s overreacting, probably. Making it about him. Bad habit. He should only be thinking about Eddie right now. What Eddie’s going through. What Eddie needs. How to be a good boyfriend to Eddie. Not that Eddie is unhappy with him. He hasn’t said or acted like he is. Though, he’s been off, too.

#daisies and briars writes #mer!buck

22 notes · View notes