#but brain especially clumsy and questioning if i should keep going

[alectoperdita]

Do I have a dozen things, including fic requests, to finish? Yes. But I only seem to want to start self-indulgent things that I may or may not even finish myself.

Anyway, inspired by those photos, here's Seto and Katsuya after six months of dating in the Old Friends universe.

---

As soon as the elevator's doors shut, Seto's phone dinged with a message. He checked it, hoping against hope it was a cancellation of tonight's dinner plans.

No such luck for him. It was a message confirming the other party might even be early.

Movement on the edge of his vision distracted him before he could reply. He peered sideways at the elevator's other occupant, at Katsuya, his boyfriend now of six months. Katsuya also had his phone in hand, held aloft, and flipping the bird with the other as he snapped several selfies.

Seto stopped to watch him pose and make faces at his camera. It still boggled him sometimes: how long they'd lasted, how seamless the transition had been, how well they clicked.

In the mirror-finish of the elevator doors, their reflections stood side-by-side but they might as well be from two different worlds. Seto's navy-pattern suit was neat and pressed, a folded pocket square peeking out of his breast pocket, and shoes shined to a gleam. Every detail of his appearance managed and controlled down to the stitch. Katsuya, on the other hand, looked as if he recently rolled out of bed—Seto's bed—despite having taken as long as Seto to get ready.

Seto took his time giving his boyfriend the once-over, as was his prerogative, his eyes tracing the slopes of Katsuya's chest and midriff visible through his torn, sleeveless mesh top. The stretch of black, barely there fabric was broken up by bands of silver, heavy chains stringed around his neck, biceps, and wrists. His pants hung low on his waist, exposing his underwear's waistband, and boasted more straps than belt buckles Seto used to wear in his youth. The artfully tousled hair resembled his bed head after they had one or two invigorating rounds of sex, and his heavy eyeliner reminded Seto of when they first ran into each other on a fateful New Years Eve.

Their eyes locked through their reflections, and Katsuya pursed his lips to blow him a kiss.

He'd been caught staring. Ears now warmed, Seto tore his gaze away and typed a hasty reply to his dinner meeting.

As soon as he slipped the phone into his pocket, though, Katsuya immediately invaded his personal space. His chin rested on Seto's shoulder as his burly arms slung around his waist. Seto's eyes darted back to their reflections again. They were undeniably fetching tangled together, something that pleased Seto to no end.

"I'm not just for looking. You can touch," Katsuya mumbled against his heated ear.

"In that case, we're going right back upstairs," Seto grumbled.

Katsuya chuckled. "Down, boy. You're the one who worried about being late and rushing out the door."

As they said, business before pleasure. Pity.

Sooner than Seto preferred, they hit the ground floor. Katsuya dropped his arms, leaving Seto somewhat chilled and bereft despite wearing a suit in June, and swaggered off the elevator. Together, they crossed the atrium, where the black granite interior threatened to swallow Katsuya if not for the bright glimmer of his blond hair.

"You sure I can't convince you to come with me?" Seto asked. It was not the first time he'd even asked him. If it got Katsuya to change his mind, he wouldn't mind asking several times more.

"Hmmm. Depends. Where are you going?"

"Buddha-Bar."

Katsuya burst into laughter. It was music resonating within the high-ceiling lobby. "Tools go to Buddha-Bar."

He winced.

"Sorry, babe." Katsuya flashed an apologetic smile. In the middle of the lobby, he paused and spun to face him before gesturing to himself. "Plus, I doubt this meets their dress code."

Seto also came to a stop, taking the obvious invitation to ogle his scantily-clad boyfriend more. He couldn't even be mad at Katsuya, because the man was right on both accounts. The restaurant often attracted a crowd more concerned with appearing more cosmopolitan than they actually were, plus it'd would never seat Katsuya when he showed that much skin. Pity because he'd pay to sick Katsuya on tonight's dining party of financiers, all of whom certainly qualified as "tools" in Seto's book.

"They would if I bought them out," he said, blasé even as he stared a little too intensely at Katsuya's sculpted pecs.

Years ago, such an off-the-cuff comment would've pissed Katsuya off. But they were older now, close enough for him to recognize Seto's jokes even if he didn't always appreciate them.

Instead, Katsuya rolled his eyes and twirled around. Seto would've been annoyed if his broad back wasn't as delectable as his torso. Tonight, his boyfriend was eye candy from head to toe, front to back. Merely one of many reasons for Seto to trail behind him toward the exit.

"Hey, look at it this way. At least you don't have to go far, and it'll be an easy walk back once it's over."

Boots clomping, he shouldered past the glass door and onto the sidewalk. Dusk had not yet settled over the city, but the sun dipping behind the high-rises limned the urban landscape in light purple and orange. It was quiet, "quiet" for New York, the calm before the storm of bustling nightlife that descended on the neighborhood after dark.

They took a second to drink it in, then they were off again.

Seto lengthened his stride until he fell into place next to his boyfriend. In his opinion, any walk was vastly improved with Katsuya at his side. Katsuya gave him a sidelong glance before reaching across the small gap to intertwine their fingers. Seto squeezed his hand in return, finding solace in its warmth and weight. They drew glances as they approached the intersection, seemingly mismatched in their style of dress.

Katsuya peered up at him from under smoky eyelids. "You could always ditch 'em. Run away to Williamsburg with me."

Though he said it like a joke, Seto knew he meant it. As with almost anything involving Katsuya, it was tempting.

"Can't. I've been trying to schedule this meeting since last month."

"I know. I know. It was worth a try." Katsuya tilted his head, gesturing across the crosswalk as the light changed. "Alright, I'm headed that way."

Toward the subway. In the opposite direction of where Seto needed to go.

Even as their fingers started to separate like a taut string fraying, he squeezed them one last time. "Tell your sister and Mazaki I said hi."

"I will." Katsuya swooped in and caught his lips in a kiss over far too soon. When he drew away, his eyes twinkled with good-natured teasing. "Have fun dropping a Benjamin on an app and cocktail. I'm off to stuff myself with chili fries. You're always welcome if you get that bored."

With a wink and a wave, he was gone, a flurry of black and bronze lost to the streets of Tribeca.

Fifteen minutes into a round of pre-dinner drinks, Seto wished he had ditched and made the trek out to Brooklyn with Katsuya. But building a new theme park required constant injections of cash flow. As healthy as his company's coffers may be, it alone didn't suffice. Thus the need to wine and dine these bankers to see what loose change he could shake out of them.

Still, he fired a message to his boyfriend asking where he might find him later.

[toms-cherry-trees]

Safe In Your Arms || Aegon II Targaryen x Reader

Summary:  There is only one person whom the Prince can find comfort with

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: 18+, lactation kink, mommy kink, p in v sex, handjob, edging and denial (m receiving), overstimulation (m receiving), implications that Aegon was beaten as a child, Aegon being a sad little meow meow, minor character death,

Author’s Note:  First time writing Aegon y'all!. But this idea had taken root in my brain and had to be delivered. Thank for to my lovely honorary wifey @aemondsbabe for brainstorming with me and giving me the seal of approval at an ungodly hour. I hope you enjoy!

Taglist: @fairysluna

The embrace catches you by surprise, a pair of strong arms circling your waist and a nose nuzzling your neck, inhaling deeply the scent of your skin. A large hand cups the round weight of your breast, clumsy fingers unsuccessfully trying to undo the buttons of your servant’s dress. The other lays flat against your belly, pushing your body flush against the prince standing behind you. You try to halt his movements, eyes darting around the nursery to ensure your privacy, even though you knew the children have gone out to the Godswood with the Queen and Princess Helaena. Still, you need to make sure no prying eyes will come across you two. You will not be the first servant the prince laid with, nor the last, but gossip would spread nonetheless if Aegon is found being so amorous with his children’s wetnurse.

He has already opened the first two buttons when you decide to stop him, gentle but firm fingers holding his own and pressing his hand against your heart. A small groan of discontent escapes his lips, and you can picture the scowl in his face without looking at him. He complies and abandons his efforts, but doesn't let go of your body, keeping you caged on a grip tighter than usual. You two linger like that for a few moments, surrounded by a comfortable silence. You could stay like that, but you know that something particularly bad has to occur for him to seek you during the day and with such desperation.

“My Prince?” You try to crane your neck to lay eyes on him, but he only groans again and buries his face in the crook of your neck, pressing featherlight kisses to your flesh. You feel dampness on your skin, like tears dropping slowly from his lashes.

With a bit of struggle you turn around, still trapped in his arms. You try to make him look up but he refuses, hidden into you like a cranky child. Over time you have learned how to read him, as easily as an open book laid out before your eyes. He has his way with words to brazenly flirt, jest and argue, but never to express his feelings, especially when they overwhelm him. He just tries to show with actions what his mouth refuses to say. 

Tenderly, like you would do to one of the children in your care, you force him to look up and meet your gaze. Red rims his eyes, violet pupils glossed over with unshed tears, the imprint of a slap still fresh and inflamed upon his cheek. You need not ask to know he has once more been caught in an altercation with his grandsire and mother, one in which he stood no chance. He never has a chance against them and the great plans they have for him, plans in which he has no say nor desire.

“Go to your bedchamber” You murmur quietly, two fingers pressing against his lips to stifle the protest that has already formed “I will be there shortly.”

Begrudgingly he drops his arms, quietly exiting the nursery, shoulders slumped and gaze downcast. You quickly finish your current duties, instructing another maid to cover for you as you make way to his chambers as discreetly as possible, excuses ready upon your lips should someone question your presence away from the children. But no one looks at you twice amidst the hustle and bustle of the Keep, and you find his door unguarded and unlocked.

Aegon has already thrashed the bed in a fit of anger, the blankets scattered around it while he lays under a sheet, still fully dressed and shoes still on. He clings to a pillow like a child to a beloved toy, although by the way he does it, so tight his hands touch his own arms, you think he is trying to actually hug himself, give himself some of the love he rarely got. You sit by his side, a hand rubbing soothing circles on his back. He takes your hand, fingers tight around your wrist as he brings it up to his face, pressing your soft palm to his reddened cheek. He closes his eyes, and you notice yet more tears beading on his lashes, and the characteristic wobble of his lower lip. 

“Let’s get you comfortable, yes?” Soft tone and gentle words, a speech used many times before with him. You have been there a plethora of times with him drunk, hungover, crying, covered in spilled wine and his own waste. And time after time you have cleaned him, changed his clothes and dried his tears. You have snuck his soiled sheets and clothes to the laundresses, since you know his maids report his every word and action back to his mother, and you want nothing more than to spare him to the best of your abilities from his elders’ wrath.

Some nights he clings to your body desperately, his fingers digging on your hips as he begs you to stay. And you comply, unwilling to pile more sorrow on him and incapable of denying anything to those wide, sad eyes. 

He doesn’t say word, but you don’t need any to heed his call for help. You undress him easily, unbuttoning his doublet and undoing the laces of his breeches, leaving his clothes carefully folded on a nearby chair, the boots neatly by the side. When he remains in only his linen shirt and smallclothes, you put the bed together around him, tucking the sheets and smoothing the blankets as you quietly sing a lullaby, the same you use to put his twins to bed every night. It has the same calming effect on him as it had on them; the soothing of your voice halting his tears and making him relax his posture as he lets himself be cared for and pampered by your tenderness. 

Once he has settled comfortably, you lay by his side. Aegon immediately scoots closer to you, his head burrowed against your bosom and one arm draping around your waist. You trace his swelling cheekbone with featherlight touch. Whoever has slapped him has put quite a lot of anger into it, most likely his grandsire. It is not the first time things have gotten physical between them, and most certainly not the last. It seems the Hand thinks he can beat his grandson into the Prince he wants him to be.

“Do you wish to talk about it?” Aegon often chooses to seek comfort and just push his problems to the back of his mind, but you still encourage him to voice his woes. More often than not he prefers to remain silent, but you always offer him the space to speak freely and without consequences should he want to. To know he won’t be judged or chastised, and he will only be met with the tenderness he deserves.

Long seconds linger in absolute silence before his voice breaks through, weak and constricted “They have found me a bride”

You only nod, not needing to ask more. Ever since Aegon’s first wife had passed, scarcely 3 nights after the birth of their twins, his grandsire and mother had pushed him to pursue another wife, a lady from a strong House to garner their support when the time came. Originally his mother had wanted him to marry Helaena, to strengthen his claim to the throne, but then the King intervened. The only time he put his foot down instead of letting his council rule on his behalf, and he did it to betroth Aegon to a branched out lady of House Velaryon, while promising Helaena to Aemond. While the siblings’ marriage flourished, Aegon found himself tied before the Gods to a woman he couldn’t love, to the extent it took 6 years for them to conceive, and she only lived enough to name them. 

At your silence, Aegon clings tighter to your body, his freshly blossoming tears dampening the front of your dress “I don’t want to, they can’t make me” His sniffs, and you notice him pressing his lips tightly together to force himself to be quiet.

You shush him, smoothing back his damp hair “You have to, sweetling. You are a Prince, and you have duties to your mother and family” Your words make him tense again, fisting your dress as he exhales loudly through his nose. 

“I have no duties, I am not the heir, I am just a failure they are stuck with. I’ve done everything they wanted of me, and still my mother won’t ever look at me with pride” Another conversation had one and a thousand times. As the firstborn male, all eyes turned to him when the King’s health began to fail, and even though he still lingers, he hangs only by a very fine thread. And the Hand has everything prepared to land the crown upon his own bloodline, whether his grandson wants to or not. And he most certainly doesn’t want to. 

You don’t argue, knowing that any attempt of contradicting him would only circle you back to the same arguments. You only let him speak, let it all escape his chest. But he has few words that day. There’s not much to say that has not been said already.

“Father never loved me. Grandsire only sees me as something at his disposal to use at convenience. Mother does not love me any more than what she is obliged to” His eyes meet yours, wide and adorable and terribly sad “I only have you. Just you. If they make me marry I won’t let you go. You cannot abandon me” His words carry an urgency and fear you hadn’t heard on him before. A deeply rooted terror of losing the only person who has not touched him with violence

You press tender kisses to his forehead, your touch gentle and warm “You will always have me, sweet boy. To the end of times. If they send you to the end of the world, I will be right behind you, taking care of you. If they put you on the throne, I will be at your feet as your most loyal servant”

Those reassuring words coax a smile out of him, a smile only meant for you. It is not often these days that Aegon is seen smiling, only in rare instances when he is with his children or with Sunfyre. All the others are reserved just for you. 

Another comfortable silence lingers between you two, eyes locked with one another as your fingers card through his blonde tresses, his breath becoming a little sharper every time you accidentally tug on a knot. His hands snake up your front, stopping just in the curve of your breasts as he waits for your permission. You easily undo the very first button, allowing him the pleasure of doing the rest. 

It takes him no time to have the front fully unbuttoned, pushing the fabric away to reach the object of his desire. The dazzled look he gets on his face whenever he stares at your bare breasts never fails to amuse you, as if he is staring at the most wonderful thing the world has to offer. His lips quickly find home around your perked nipple, releasing a satisfied sigh as he suckles at your milk, his hand cupping the free breast and massaging it lovingly, swiping his thumb over the hardened peak. You let out a content sigh, settling comfortably on the pillows as you watch Aegon nurse enthusiastically, barely stopping to breathe. 

It had been after one of his many nights out that he first found comfort that particular way. Smelling of cheap perfume, even cheaper spirits and covered in vile things you didn’t wish to identify he had returned, and once more you had been by his side, putting his broken pieces back together and trying to not let his cracks be seen by the world the next morning. His hands had roamed your body, as they often did, a touch you glady allowed; he had never once done one thing you didn’t let him do, not even while being so deep in his cups he couldn’t say his own name. He had rested his face against your bare chest, inhaling deeply the musk of your skin while he toyed absently with your breast. A sharp pinch to your nipple had coaxed out some droplets of milk, which he collected on his thumb and brought to his lips. He repeated the process several times before crossing eyes with you, searching your face for any sign of rejection, but you only smiled and helped him get comfortable in your lap as he latched onto your breast for the first time. Nothing could quite calm him like that afterwards.

The prince at your breast lets out small sounds of satisfaction and content sighs as he grips your flesh tenderly, massaging it to coax more of the rich liquid to come down. At first you think he is relaxing and perhaps close to falling asleep, but then you notice his free hand down his body, palming his erection over the sheet. His teeth graze the engorged bud of your nipple ever so delicately, sending a delicious shiver down your spine. Heat starts to pool in your lower belly, accompanied by a growing dampness between your thighs. You rub them together discreetly, seeking some form of friction as you continue to watch Aegon clumsily touch himself, trying to balance his need for pleasure with the attention he is lavishing upon your tits. 

His whines take a desperate edge while he humps his own hand, his movements faltering since he doesn't know where to focus. Instinctively your hand moves slowly down his torso and under the sheets; you gently push his away and wrap your fingers around his length, giving a few tentative pumps.

“Do you want Mommy to take care of this?”

Both of you stop for a moment, eyes wide, and he even drops your breast in shock. He had very occasionally called you ‘mommy’, mostly ironically when you had ordered him around, or more intimately when you did certain things like tug on his hair or grip him a bit tighter. But you had never used the term that way, and by the way his cock throbs in your hand, the idea excites him as much as it does you. You give him a firm squeeze, making him jump on the bed

“I asked you something, sweet boy. I taught you how to use your words. Do you want Mommy to take care of your problem?”

Aegon swallows visibly, eyes still wide. His lips move rapidly, but no sound comes out other than a pathetic mumbling as he tries to unscramble his brains. He finally gives up and just nods, looking up pleadingly. But you don’t cave in and give him a firmer squeeze, earning a whimper from him

“Words” You say firmly, but without sounding too harsh. You don’t want to take him too far and make him scared. But you are also deeply curious on how far you can take this little jest. 

It seems to take all his strength to push out every word “Yes Mommy, please” He sounds so small and defenceless, bordering on innocence. If you didn’t know him much better you would believe him a man that has rarely laid with women. 

Encouraged, you stroke his hard cock slowly, swiping your thumb across the leaking head to gather the already forming drops and smearing them down his length. Aegon’s hands are everywhere, on your face, on your breasts, on your shoulders, pushing the rest of your dress out of the way to free more of your skin. He grips your hips, squeezes your thighs, seeks in your body an anchor to life as his face scrunches in pleasure. His breaths become ragged and you see his abdominal muscles tensing as he approaches climax. But as soon as you feel the familiar twitching you let go of him, your hand resting on the curve of his thigh. 

His eyes shoot open and he half sits, staring at you with a mix of desperation and indignation. He whimpers quietly, shifting his hips to try and get under your delicious touch again, but you slap his thigh gently to keep him still.

“No moving. Mommy is taking care of you and you don’t move unless I say so.” Your tone is low, whispering the words as you press your forehead against his, gazes locked on each other. The black of his eyes has widened, making the purple seem darker, and the tears have dried at last. All that remains is lust mixed with submission, all of it just for you.

You gently caress his stones, watching in amusement as gooseflesh spreads across his skin at the touch, his legs instinctively spreading wider to grant you better access. You trace your index up his length, following the path of the throbbing vein prominent on the underside of his cock, while he fists the sheets, his bottom lip caught between his teeth. You lean down to kiss him, letting him drown his moans against your welcoming mouth when you finally pump him, keeping the pace steady.

Again you stop just seconds before he reaches climax, earning an even more desperate whimper from him.

“Mommy, please, it hurts, I want to-” His words are cut short when your free hand takes hold of a fistful of his hair, just enough to feel the pull in his scalp. The moan comes from the depths of his chest when you brush your lips against his ear.

“Are you a good boy? A good boy for Mommy?” 

He nods eagerly, his hands cupping your face to keep you close.

“I will be good Mommy. Please, please it hurts” His eyes gloss over, and his lower lip trembles again. He looks so pretty you struggle in your heart to carry on with this little game, even though he seems to enjoy it. And you are enjoying it too, so much you feel is unfair you are missing out on the best part.

You pull away just enough to drop your dress to the side, your smallclothes following suit. With Aegon flat on his back, it is easy for you to straddle his hips, letting the head of his cock snuggle in your slick folds. He sucks in a sharp breath when you rock your hips, gliding the heat of your cunt along his length. You take a slow pace, dragging out the moment as much as possible. But while you are in no rush to finish, Aegon is in a desperate hurry, pushing against your hips and mewling desperately to urge you on. When he tries to grab your hips you smack his hand away and lean in, so close your breaths mingle. 

“Stay still, sweet boy. You don’t want Mommy to get angry and leave you like this, do you now?”

“But Mommy” He pants heavily, beads of sweat gathering in his temples “I need it, please. I will be good. I need to be inside you. Please” 

You click your tongue, a smirk pulling at your lips. You smooth back his hair and press a kiss to his hairline, an almost soothing touch.

“You have been such a good boy for Mommy, so good. But you have to keep being good and do as you are told, sweetling. If you are extra good, Mommy will let you spend inside her” 

With that promise in mind, Aegon does his best to stay still, but you don’t make it easy for him. The rhythm is tantalisingly slow, coming to a halt every time you or him get too close to climax. His desperation grows to uncharted levels, fingers digging on the mattress, fists so tight on the sheets his knuckles turn white, lip bitten so strongly between his teeth it leaves an imprint. Tears bead in the corners of his beautiful eyes and roll down, dampening the sheet underneath. When you stop for the umpteenth time and a sob racks his chest, you know he’s ready.

You sit back on your haunches and watch him carefully. His hair is toussled from how much he has trashed on the bed, his face puffy and tear streaked, the flush of his cheeks spreading down to his chest. His cock is angrily red and leaky, impossibly hard and coated in your juices. Every muscle on his body is tense like a bowstring ready to fire. You touch his taut abs, rubbing the aching muscles soothingly.

“You have been such a good boy for Mommy, so good. You deserve your prize” 

The moan he releases as you line his cock with your entrance, sinking slowly until he is buried to the hilt, has surely been heard throughout the entire Keep. Encased in your tight heat, it takes no more than a few rocks of your hips for him to peak, back arching off the mattress dramatically as he screams his release to the vaulted ceilings, painting your walls with his spend. But you are not quite there yet. You continue to ride him, now at a dizzying pace, chasing your own release. His whines reach a new high, having barely time to recover from his groundbreaking climax. His abused cock is almost too sensitive to touch, and the drag of your cunt around him feels like fire climbing up his spine; the most deliciously tortuous fire. 

Your hips and thighs begin to ache from the exertion, but you are so close, and seeing your sweet Prince so ruined it's definitely spurring you on. You shift your angle just a bit, so the head of his cock brushes against a certain spot inside you that makes you feel like you can touch the stars, all while your fingers circle your neglected pearl. It takes no more than a few thrusts before you climax, your walls tightening around him and somehow drawing out a second peak from him, even though you are sure he doesn’t have much more left to give you. You ride out your release, halting only when the burning on your thighs becomes too much to ignore. 

You slide off and lay next to Aegon, who appears to still be waiting for his soul to return to his body. His eyes are wide, some stray tears still rolling, his breaths heavy and slow. When he whines quietly and turns to you, you reward him with a sweet smile and a tender, brief kiss upon the lips. Aegon snuggles into you, just like he likes it best, his face buried in your cleavage as he catches his breath. You rub his back in slow, soothing circles; he closes his eyes, his lips seeking and finding your nipples once more

While he suckles you lean closer, tracing his features with your fingertip

“You were such a good boy. So good for me. Mommy is so proud of you” 

The gentle praise goes straight to his heart, that much you can tell in the way he hugs you with his entire body and the upward turn of the corner of his mouth. You know he is tired, and perhaps his body is urging him to sleep. But to do that he needs one last little nudge

“Mommy will always be with you, my sweet Prince”

[whatswrong7]

Part 1 Part 2

Ghost was sweating bullets, feeling a little too warm for comfort as he stared at the articles of clothing he had on his bed, his closet practically empty. Since when was he a ‘I don’t have anything to wear’ guy? It wasn’t anything special, just dinner. He could throw on any button up and slacks, but the mere thought of appearing like he didn’t care had him wanting to strangle himself. He got you flowers, and a reservation at a nice Mediterranean place he’d been saving for, remembering a comment you made about how much you loved their food, but how expensive it was. He couldn’t do all that just for you to think he wasn’t serious. He had to have you! He gulped thickly, wondering how pretty you would look. Would you doll yourself up just for him? His heart threatened to break a rib from the inside at the thought.

A headache was starting to form in his skull as he carefully stared at what he had to work with. How did you like men dressed? He had never paid enough attention to your rambles before. You had to have said something though, that he couldn’t help but overhear. Alas, no matter how much he wracked his brain, the thought wouldn’t come to him. He wipes his sweaty palm on his bare thighs. You may have said something about black button ups, but he couldn’t remember if you had actually said that, or if his brain was just making something up out of desperation. Either way, he quickly put it on, choosing black slacks to go with it. Usually he wore silver, but he noticed you usually wore gold, not that you got the chance to wear jewelry often on base.

He wanted to match you, his face felt a little hot at the thought people would think you two were a couple, even if you technically weren’t yet. He quickly chose his few gold rings, along with a small chain around his neck. You had a similar necklace, only smaller and daintier. Maybe you’d be wearing it tonight. He had the image in his head, the pretty color on your skin, your pretty skin he wanted to bite and-

No, he reminded himself, we aren’t doing this right now. Checking the time, he figured he should get going soon if he wanted to show up early, and see that cute face of yours light up when he gave you the flowers.

Sure enough, once you opened your door and took in the sight before you, your pretty eyes Ghost had been admiring lit up, your lips quickly finding their way to his cheek. You might as well have electrocuted him. He stood dumbfounded at your door while you placed his gift in a vase. He quickly snapped out of it once your tapped his bicep, asking if he was ok.

"Oh, yes, love, more than okay"

Your face heated up at the look he gave you, his eyes obviously lingering on places a gentleman shouldn't be looking. It was the same when you got to the restauraunt. He knew in the back of his mind he appeared like a creep, but you were such a pretty one, he couldn't help but stare obsessively at you, especially now that you were so much closer, and he could see more details he couldn't spot from the distance he usually sat from you. Besides from that, as stressed as he'd been earlier, it was so easy to fall into conversation with you. He tried to keep the subject on you as much as possible, not because he didn't want to share anything about himself, but because he wanted to make up for lost time, learn as much about you as possible, so he could be your perfect man. If you would accept him, that is.

Shit, he wasn't even sure if you wanted to pursue something serious, meanwhile he was already trying to guess and imagine what wedding dress you'd like, and how you'd give him such cute babies. Little does he know you were more than happy to think about a future with him, though, to be fair, your thoughts were a little more impure, but still wholesome.

He was starting to question why he didn't start chasing after you sooner, when you knocked over your drink of choice. Ah, right, he had considered you useless and clumsy. He chuckled to himself, but practically got whiplash when you started apologizing profusely, turning red out of embarassment. How had he missed that before? God, you were just so cute. Ghost practically seethed at himself for not paying more attention and snatching you up sooner. But that thought quickly flew away as he started thinking about how he wanted to see you jump and yelp and laugh at your mistakes again and again, forever.

And sure enough, you did, as you knocked over various things as he dragged you along the darkness of his home, his assurances and kisses on your head that it was 'ok, love, just keep following him', until you both landed on his bed, soon to become yours too.

Most likely not gonna write a part 4, besides some more cute drabbles about Ghost x incompetent! Reader cuz idk I just love the concept

[boba-at-323]

Stay-home dates with RIIZE !!

Note : OMG !! I had so much fun writing thisssss <333 || DID NOT PROOFREAD PLEASE || Also Idk what to tw but I have mentioned snacks a whole lot of time + I TRIED MY BEST TO MAKE IT GENDER NEUTRAL BUT LIKE SINCE IM FEMALE SO EXCUSE ME ;-; please enjoyyyy !!

Osaki Shotaro <3 !

Hmm, not a big fan, but as long as you're happy he is too !!

Omg !!

You ask him to film TikToks with you and he's MORE THAN HAPPY !!

So like you've saved a lot of trends and dances you wanna recreate with him.

He's so excited and gets all giggly over it!

Takes it a little too seriously…

Like you're looking at him with your jaw dropped and eyes wide because how did it take him one look to literally MASTER the dance.

Laughs embarrassed when you praise him !!

But you tell him that he's too fast for you ';-; so he apologises and suggests teaching you the dance step by step!

The two of you continuously burst into fits of giggles when something goes wrong.

ITS JUST SO FUNNY BUT IN A CUTE WAY FOR SOME REASON

You'd film like 29837209 TikToks and just have fun goofing around.

You might also end up exhausted on the floor reviewing the videos you filmed.

Thinks you look very cute and asks you to do this often with him!

Might get bored if you don't have a lot to do.

HOWEVER !!!

Would love to talk to you about anything really.

I feel like he's someone who enjoys conversing, so you might actually start having deep conversations that will last for hours.

Hmm rating 8/10 PLS HES SO ADORABLE <3

Rest of the members under the cut !

Song Eunseok <3 !

This man is literally so chill with everything.

Like you'd suggest going for a picnic on a volcano and he'd be like "lol ok."

Okay, maybe not that much but yk what I mean !!

So yeah you're probably sitting with him binge-watching some anime or series.

He's quiet the whole time and is actually very immersed in the story.

However, he will be passing comments every now and then.

And I tell you, these comments are so out of pocket???

Like you can't help but burst out laughing.

And he's just gonna look at you like "😐".

AS IF HE HADN'T SAID THE MOST FUNNIEST THING YOU'VE HEARD ALL WEEK.

So yeah be prepared cuz the witty comments he's gonna slip will crack you so bad.

Like it actually makes you question how his brain works

ESPECIALLY HOW HE DOES LITERAL STAND-UP COMEDY WITH THAT SERIOUS EXPRESSION !!!

But it's okay, that just means he's having fun!

Also, it's very hard to concentrate on whatever you're watching cuz he looks so pretty next to you.

Like you keep on looking at him, smirks 100%

"Yeah I know I'm too hard to resist"

GETS COCKY BUT CAN YOU BLAME HIM !!!

Also makes sure you get your share of snacks!!

I'd rate it a solid 9/10 cuz it's really entertaining!

Jung Sungchan <3 !

HE IS NOT ENTERTAINED BY THE IDEA !!!

But after much convincing, he gives in.

"At least we get to spend time together, right?"

YOU'RE BAKING TOGETHER YIPPIEEEE!!!

But what happens is like,

You're standing there tying your hair back, you ask him for help with your apron.

Gets a little too touchy

You have to slap his arm away and give him a death glare.

Pretends he doesn't know what he did rn 😔

Is actually a very good helping hand.

Like helps you out, follows everything you tell him to do, however...

Has his doubts, and totally shakes his head if he thinks smth is going wrong.

"Y/n are you sure it's 2 cups sugar?" "I don't think we should be using butter…"

NOOO ENDS UP GETTING KICKED OUT OF THE KITCHEN BECAUSE

Like he said, he takes up a large radius.

So this clumsy baby probably toppled over a lot of things, making a very big mess ;-;

Apologises repeatedly with sad puppy eyes 🥹

You kiss his cheek and tell him it's fine

Though you ask him to sit it out and let you handle the rest of the process yourself.

YOU DO DECORATE WTV YOU MADE TOGETHER SO HES VERY EXCITED FOR THAT !!!

I'd rate it a 4/10, this man is NOT meant to be confined to a small space.

Park Wonbin <3 !

Would prefer them actually !!!

He'd absolutely LOVE to cuddle with you throughout the day.

Like he'd just be clinging onto you telling you literally everything that happened to him cuz for some reason he gives me yapper vibes

Though he'd appreciate listening to what you have to tell him, leaving a trail of kisses all over your neck.

Also he LOVES your voice so much omg !

So he can also pull out his guitar and have a serenade with you (english 💀).

Would ask you your favourite song, and if he doesn't know it WILL make sure he knows it the next time you guys have an at-home date

If he knows, he plays it for you encouraging you to sing.

you tell him you think your voice sucks.

A DRAMATIC GASP COMES FROM HIS DIRECTION !!!

"Nonsense idc i just wanna hear your pretty voice <3"

Literally heart eyes for you once you start singing,

Like might actually melt, give you the softest, most lovesick gaze EVER !

There is a possibility he ends up messing up the cords cuz you distracted him !!!

He's so cute pls </3

Omg also, the two of you might also end up in the kitchen cooking smth together, blasting a playlist he made for you!

But you don't know that <3

He actually so desperately wants to do cliche romantic things with you but is too shy to initiate </3

It's giving that "Idk how to flirt so I'm just gonna stare at you till you marry me" meme

HOWEVER !!

Be prepared for endless back hugs because he's just so SO soft for you <333

Anyways yeah 11/10 (+1 is probably cuz I'm so down bad for him)

Hong Seunghan <3 !

My manz I miss him all day everyday ;-;

He's so sweet I tell you, agrees to literally everything.

Putting mbti and stuff aside, I think he'd actually plan out a few activities you could do together.

Like if you're going over to his place, hes prepared snacks and stuff for you.

Hmm !! Video games are a must I believe !!

Like I read he plays FIFA online???

SO yeah, if you know how to play, the both of you would spend hours playing together

I don't see him getting very competitive but will whine if you keep on beating him!

However, will also compliment on how great you are at the game!!

HE FEELS PROUD I TELL YOU !!

However, if you don't know how to play and absolutely suck (like me ;-;)

HE'D BE SO EXCITED TO TEACH YOU !!

When you mess something up, or like if you can't understand something, the pout on your lips makes his heart EXPLODE.

Like he thinks you're the most adorable ever, he'd start squealing if his pride lets him.

Ends up attacking you with kisses and hugs.

The game is long forgotten, just a clingy Seunghan showering you with love because of how adorable he finds you.

I'D RATE IT AN 8/10 TBH BECAUSE HE'D FORGET WHAT PERSONAL SPACE IS !!!

Lee Sohee <3 !

SPENT SO MUCH TIME THINKING SOMETHING FOR HIM 😭

Unlike Seunghan, I can see him playing board games and such with you!

For example, the two of you could be sitting on the floor playing UNO.

But that got boring CUZ HOW DO TWO PEOPLE EVEN PLAY UNO !!!

So takes out a Jenga set because he thought it was very entertaining!

Both of you are screaming SO much when either chooses the wrong piece to remove.

HOWEVER, HE'S USING THE SPECIAL SKILLS EUNSEOK TAUGHT HIM!!!

Which is unfair to you and you WILL whine about it.

"All is fair in war and Jenga"

HIS WORDS NOT MINE !!!

Laughs at you because you're definitely the one who's going to topple the tower over.

So yeah you all spend a lot of time giggling and screaming over board games!

OMG ALSO !! Thanks to Anton, he bought some Lego sets too!!

You all start good but eventually get so frustrated because you can't find one tiny piece.

Ofc you give up and spend the rest of the evening with his karaoke machine !!

HE !! WANTS !! TO !! SING !!

And please you're just so mesmerised the whole time he's singing.

Like woah??? His voice is so good even when he's goofing around? INSANE!!

Though you aren't losing to him, so the both of you get SUPER competitive.

RATING THIS A 7/10 !!

Lee Anton <3 !

Like Wonbin, he'd also enjoy stay-at-home dates.

I can see him enjoying doing anything, to be honest.

Like for example, the two of you could just be lying next to each other sharing with each other reels you see.

Or just him listening to you telling him some tea from your workplace/college etc.

Sitting on the bed together with a variety of snacks sprawled around.

Like Sohee, I can even see him building Legos in silence with you cuz this guy is so patient !

Oh also!

He'd pull out his laptop and shyly ask if you'd like to listen to the music he's created.

After listening, your face is the shocked Pikachu meme.

"Woahhh my boyfriend is so cool :OOO"

Get's blushy over the compliments you shower him with.

Brushes it off saying it's nothing.

THATS A FREAKING LIE LEE CHANYOUNG!!

NEways, teaches you how to try making music.

Laughs if you cry about how difficult it is, he thinks it's adorable.

You ask him to delete the trash you've made, but he creates a separate folder to save everything you've made with him.

ITS ART TO HIM !!! HOW CAN HE THINK SMTH YOU'VE CREATED IS TRASH?!?!?!

Plus he treasures it so much like only if he could somehow just make you feel how much it means to him !!

SO YEAH !

Pretty cute, very cozy, overall nice experience 10/10 <3

Thank you for reading reblogs and reviews are appreciated ! <3

Title : Stay-home dates with Riize || Word count: 1652 || Genre: fluff ! || Pairing: Riize x implied Fem!Reader (tried making it gender neutral pt.29382938)

[ash-says]

Hush Hush Honey:

A guide on how to regulate oversharing and balancing the conversation flow.

Each one of us has at least been in a situation where we accidentally ended up spilling more than we should. We do recognise the patterns but are unable to control ourselves. That's why your girl Ash-says is here to say a lot about it.

1) Find the why

What are you trying to achieve by sharing that piece of information? Drama? Attention? Get it off your chest? Is it important to inform them? Is it valuable to them?etc.

First tackle the why. Before you go in to reveal something ask yourself if it goes with the conversation flow and if yes is it really important to share it.

2) Are you a celebrity?

No like why? Who is interested in your life so much? Are those people paparazzi to broadcast your current events and bring you fame? No right. So shut up.

3) Who puts their dirty laundry on display?

When you overshare you are basically putting all your secrets, stuff that you do or did on blatant exposure. People are going to judge you. That's the very nature. So breathe and keep it inside.

4) Try to listen more

Train yourself into listening more than speaking especially in group settings or around people that you don't know much about. Gossip is real. You don't want to be the next tea time sensation.

5) Alternatives for talkative people:

Now I know you might be thinking can't say this can't say that then how the hell am I going to bond with people or what should I converse about?

I have developed a solution for you. It's Ash verified because I myself have been using it unknowingly for around 7 years of my life.

Never open your mouth for passing judgements, expressing your opinions on things that do not relate to you, your dirty laundry, secrets, family issues, relationship issues, your sex life, your goals and aspirations, your daily routine, your political standpoint,etc you get where I am going right?

Instead speak about the experiences you had while travelling somewhere, some goofy stuff that happened to you, your harmless vice for example: I am clumsy so I have a lot of incidents that occur due to it which can be told in a funny way. It adds a nuance to my perfectionist image plus helps people warm up to me. Movie shows, songs, etc here also there's a catch if you relate to a show/song/ piece of literature strongly never reveal it. The smart ones will understand the inner workings of your mind.

Never let them know your next move.

If nothing of this then goof around being nonsense. Do little hand gestures, funny faces if you are bored but never overshare.

6) Be mindful of interruption

Practise practise practise. Literally that's the only way. Try not to interrupt people while speaking. There's no roundabout way. It is what it is.

7) Be comfortable in silence

You have to be okay with the conversation dying down. Running your mouth dry will only result in one sided convo. It's more useless and harmful than the one mentioned before.

8) Know your limits

Fix in your brain what you can share and what you can't. Stick to it. Even over your dead body.

9) Be genuinely interested in people

Ask yourself are you asking questions to really get to know the other person or just looking for a chance to talk about yourself? Dethrone yourself first and then interact with others.

10) Put out stuff that you are over with

Always remember what you say can and will be used against you. Drill it and from next time when you speak be mindful that every word can stand against you. Do you have the capacity to handle the consequences? Yes then go ahead. No, then stop live streaming.

Bonus point: Be as private as possible on social media. People don't need to know what you are doing nowadays. Privacy is power. What they don't know they can't ruin.

Strategically put things out. I am not saying be inactive. In Rome you live like the Romans. Do it smartly.

That's all for today's show on ash-says. Stay tuned for more illegal tricks and explosive opinions.

[bellewintersroe]

I'm back in your inbox with new ideas! Lol. The guys being left to care for your baby alone for the first time. I feel like this would kinda be both sweet and hilarious. For Malarkey, Chuck, Babe, Shifty, Winters, Luz, Liebgott, and whoever else you wanna add. ❤️

Super cute idea omg, I love this, thank you for your requests!!!

Easy Company x Reader Headcannons. 

Don Malarkey:

- okay 1000% is super confident when you’re around, he LOVES fatherhood, he’s so emotionally intelligent and caring that he’s the perfect dad, I can’t stress that enough (for all the men).

- when you leave just for a couple hours the baby’s probs asleep and Malarkey’s calm and content, just chilling, reading the paper and what not.

- That’s until the baby starts crying, at first he just goes for it, but when he can’t seem to settle your son he’s deffo raking his brain for every single thing he can do.

- Speaks to himself ‘okay, okay. What do I do?’

- would accidentally put the baby’s vest on backwards, or accidentally put his foot through the head hole.

- He doesn’t exactly fret, but he’s a little flustered and clumsy, especially when the baby won’t stop crying for its bottle and Don spills it all over the floor.

- But he wants everything to be perfect for when you come back, so as soon as he hears that door go he’s resting as carefully as he can back on the sofa with your baby boy wriggling resting on his chest.

Chuck Grant:

- I think after his accident Chuck is a lot more nervous and anxious about fatherhood. He never really worried about it before, he didn’t think about it a whole lot.

- Truthfully he’s scared to be left alone with the baby. He’s confident in his abilities to do day-to-day life tasks now, but due to the slight paralysis in part of his left arm he’s nervous.

- Regardless if he had the accident or not, he’d still be scared.

- Asks you sooo many questions, asks his friends, families, mom, he’s such a caring and good dad really, you’d assure him he has nothing to worry about.

- Deffo stands over your daughter’s crib to make sure she’s breathing. Like he’s checking on her every five minutes.

- Kinda scared of how tiny she is, like he’s scared to pick her up, faces so many irrational fears, but when she starts crying he kinda has no choice.

- He’s sooo reassuring, speaking to her and stroking his hand over her blonde hair.

- Scoops her up SO GENTLY- sosifiwidikwksosksos too cute omfg I can’t.

- but he’s extra fucking careful like with everything, he cradles her head and rocks her carefully.

- figures its not as scary as he thought. So when you’re back from the shop and see this you’re overwhelmed with happiness.

- “hey, this isn’t as scary as I thought!!”

- he’s a mf angel fr (even if he does almost throw up trying to change her dirty diaper).

Babe Heffron:

- On the topic of dirty diapers. You’ve gone out for the evening with a few of your girlfriends, extremely hesitant, but Babe is confident and assures you that you need to take a night off and he can handle your 3 month old daughter.

- He truly means it, he wants you to have a break- but it feels like the second you step foot outta the door all hell breaks loose.

- Your baby girl’s diaper practically explodes and Babe is positive he can handle it but the second he has to deal with it he’s GAGGING NOOO-

- Probably wraps a shirt around his face and he’s retching the whole time. Panics and gets the diaper on backwards- Bill is the only person that picks up the phone.

- He’s rocking and burping, feeding and soothing your baby but she won’t stop crying as Babe frantically questions Bill.

- “ya should know, you’ve got a whole army of em.”

- Turns out she just wants rocking and a little cuddle and as soon as she settles down Babe feels super proud. Like he smiles to himself so much, kisses her head and keeps her sleeping on his chest.

- Probably doesn’t move for a good 2 hours. If the baby is asleep he doesn’t want to wake her and cause WW3 so he just stays in that position lolllll.

Shifty Powers:

- He has such a calming presence that your daughter just soothes in his arm immediately. She’s got her dad wrapped around her finger and Shifty will find himself running all around the house

- Deffo cool asf with being left alone with your baby for the first time. He’s a little worried because you two are such a good team.

- I can imagine him sitting on the porch with your baby, holding her close as he points out the different wildlife he see’s running past.

- Probably the type of dad that wants to play with the baby fresh outta the womb, and you kinda have to say; “Shifty, give her two months to develop first.” Lmao

- “Look who’s back? That’s ya mommy, hm? Let’s go see her.” Ugh he’s so sweet and takes care of her so well, like I said he’s so mf calm, cool and collected. Literally like a baby whisperer.

Dick Winters:

- Similar to Shifty, he’s so mf calm and collected when he’s left alone- except before you leave he’s asking you plenty of questions.

- you kinda have to reassure like ‘Dick, I promise you’ll be fine, he’s not gonna run off anyway and you’re not going to drop him.’

- You’re right, and similar to Chuck he’s checking up on your baby every few minutes, smiling every time your son moves or makes the slightest noise.

- Sooo gentle and so good at keeping to a routine, literally so methodical, checks if he’s hungry, tired, cold, warm, just needs a cuddle?

- He’s even a little smug when you got back. Luckily for you both your baby is already calm, but I can imagine Dick carrying him and just watching down to his peaceful little face feeling so accomplished at life.

George Luz:

- Same as Shifty but worse, he but wants to play with your kid but he’s literally like 4 weeks old lmao.

- “Don’t worry, babe, I got it all covered, we’re gonna have the best time. Aren’t we?” He reassures before you leave as he speaks to his son (who obviously doesn’t reply).

- Thinks he’s got it all under control but he’s deffo exhausted by the end of it. At first the baby is asleep n he’s speaking to him before he turns over; “you don’t talk much, do you?”

- makes the worse mistake EVER and wakes up a sleeping baby; “c’mon little guy, let’s listen to the baseball.”

- Crying, crying and more crying. George does everything, he literally apologises to your baby for getting him up.

- “Tough life, little guy.” He teases but it doesn’t exactly work.

- George probably gets a little upset when you walk back in and the baby is still wailing. He feels the need to apologise and explain.

- “George it’s fine, he’s a baby he’s gonna cry.”

- Fr tho he’s such a good dad, so present and active in his child’s life.

Joe Liebgott:

- “Hey, I’m actually really fuckin’ good at this.” Accidentally curses in front of your newborn and slaps his hand over his mouth.

- Thinks he’s the pro at changing diapers and fixing bottles, he wants to do it as much as he can seeing as he has to go work through the week in the day.

- “You want me to read this or some real stories, huh?” Would read a comic book to your son, and it actually works when he goes to sleep.

- Tries to sleep when the baby does, he’s eager to show you that the two of you should start trying for more little Liebgott’s asap!!

- You’re out for the whole night, staying over at a relatives and Joe practically SPRINGS out of bed every time the baby cries.

- Maybe he’s a light sleeper from the war, but it’s just an automatic reaction, hurries over in a slight panic to make sure everything is ok.

- admits later he feels like a zombie by the morning, it creates an even stronger gratitude for you as a mother and he’s honestly so happy your back.

- Never complains about being tired again. He loves spending time with his son as much as possible, even if it is hard work at first, he’s soo fucking good at it that he does convince you to have 400 more children.

[badolmen]

Turn Off the Light

Hallucinations aren’t unheard of for spelunkers, especially those on the verge of a panic attack. You were hoping they would hold off until your light went out, but the whisper returns.

“The light. If you turn it off, we can help you.”

The realization that it is not one voice, but many overlapping echoes makes you shiver. Although, it is rather cold so deep in the caves.

You look around the expanse of stone, slate gray and devoid of life. Not even bats are roosting here. There is no sound of running water that you could be mistaking for whispers. Silence save for your too-fast heartbeat pounding in your skull and the dull hum of dying electricity in your headlamp.

The light. They wanted the light off. Your fingers are too cold, and it takes a moment for you to fumble the switch off.

The darkness is immediate and thick, blind eyes searching for light that isn’t there. For a moment, you think you may drown in the inky black.

“Thank you.” The voices are louder now, and you can see their source.

You know you aren’t really seeing them - it’s impossible, your brain is putting something in the darkness to make sense of the presence that hovers feet from your face. But somehow, that doesn’t make the writhing mass of shadow any less real.

It wobbles between a fuzzy static silhouette and coiled tendrils like a nest of snakes but there is something in front of you that you cannot see but cannot not see. You don’t even realize you’re speaking until your own echo reverberates in the ocean of darkness.

“Who are you?” You should have asked what, but the way this creature makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up makes you unsure you want to know.

“We are a friend. Follow.” There’s amusement in the voices, and a soft, fond, sorrow. The presence begins to move away from you, the electric pinch of awareness that curled across the bridge of your nose fading as it left.

“Wait!” Your voice is shaking but soft, your first step unsure and unsteady. You feel like you’ve forgotten how to even walk. One misstep nearly sends you crashing to the hard, damp stone below your clumsy feet. You brace for an impact that never comes.

There’s a hand, soft and dry and warm, holding your own. It’s not human - or it was once but no longer is - it was more a mitten of tender flesh than a familiar five fingered grip. The hand relaxes, but you don’t let go. You aren’t sure why.

“Follow. We can help you.”

You still stumble in the dark, blind to every shift in elevation and stone, but the steady presence beside you forges onward. The question you should have asked earlier wells in your throat.

“What are you?”

The grip on your hand gives a gentle squeeze.

“We are a friend.” There’s a tension in the answer, as though the voices aren’t in complete agreement with each other. You swallow - or try to, your mouth dry and tongue leadened.

“My name is - ” You stop, acutely aware that the presence is bristling as it stopped suddenly.

“That’s dangerous.” The voices nearly growl, but it’s tone lightens as it starts walking again. “You are a friend. We are helping you.”

You aren’t sure how to respond so you don’t. You walk for what feels like hours, legs aching and feet sore. You’re cold and hungry and tired and can barely keep pace with your guide.

“I need a break.” The presence stops when you speak, and even you are hesitant to release its gentle hand. “I have a snack in my bag; can I turn on - ?”

“No.” There’s a wind in the whispers as though heard in the air just before a storm, something anxious and angry and ashamed. “I’ll get it for you.”

You don’t have time to protest that you can blindly grope through your supplies for a protein bar. The thing unzips your pack, and if you close your eyes - not that it matters in the darkness - you can almost pretend this is a damp, cold dream of a high school hallway, some friend retrieving a folder from your backpack for you.

There’s a protein bar in your empty hand (still half raised to turn on your headlamp) and the wrapper crinkles a little too loudly as you open it and break off a piece.

“Hungry?” You offer - the least you could do for this thing that has yet to kill you. It makes a strange noise somewhere between a whimper and a sigh.

“No.”

“Are you lying?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“I shouldn’t eat your food.” The growl in its voices runs thick in its words. “That’s dangerous.”

“Okay.” You finish the protein bar yourself, not speaking again for fear of further agitating the presence. It takes your hand in its mittened grip and you walk.

“Almost there.” The whispers are softer now, no longer echoing against the stone. You can’t tell if the cavern is familiar, but you trust the gentle voices that have delivered you safely thus far.

The you hear them. Your team. Sharron is screaming your name. Isaac is sobbing. Chris curses into the darkness somewhere you cannot see them.

The presence beside you hears them too, it’s pace picking up to match your own. Then you see it. Light - not much, thin threads of photons in the damp air that barely delineate a distant cave wall. You call out, voice still hoarse from your earlier screams.

“Here! I’m here!” There are shrieks of joy and panic and relief in the distance. If they tell you to stay where you are, you ignore them to charge ahead. You pull your new friend along, it’s grip loosening.

It stops you just short of the corner. You stop and turn to it, confusion creasing your invisible features. The light from around the corner is so dilute you can still only make out your companion’s writhing, static obscured silhouette. The footsteps of your approaching team are getting louder.

You open your mouth to say thank you. To ask why it had helped you. To ask any number of questions. But you don’t get the chance. Sharron rounds the corner, her headlamp cutting through the darkness and illuminating the cave.

For a split second you can see it - a flash of adjusting irises and shadows chased back by the light. It’s something feathered and something skeletal. Ancient and inhuman and disintegrated in the harsh glow on an LED light.

“You’re alright!” Sharron didn’t see it - her face only shows relief, no horror or recognition of what just scattered into the shadows. “What happened? Did your headlamp run out of battery? How did you find your way back?”

Your mouth is dry and words are stuck in your throat. Your teammates all round the corner, glowing and alive and oddly chilly. The warmth of the presence is gone. There’s something damp and cold in the air.

Chris is smiling at you, a hand extending a protein bar. Isaac’s eyes are dry, no tears on his sallow cheeks.

“We were all so worried about you, here eat.” There’s something wrong with the way Chris’ lips move, out of sync with the sound of their words. There’s something wrong with the wrapper of the protein bar, faded and dull and water damaged.

You don’t take the protein bar. Sharron has her clipboard out, a guilty smile on her face. Her face is too pale and her skin like wax.

“Sorry, I’m terrible with names - you are..?” That’s a lie. You heard her calling your name mere moments ago. Your breath clouds white as you begin to breathe faster. No fog leaves their lips as they ask you what’s wrong.

You run. The lights follow, biting at your heels as you dash back towards the darkness.

--

Enjoy my writing? Send $5 to Palestinian's in need!

(This is being reposted from a prompt fill for @/writing-prompt-s. Please reblog this version, as I no longer want my writing associated with that blog.)

[daboyau]

Hey, for the writing challenge, I'd be interested in seeing 38 for whichever of your AUs you prefer, if you're not overwhelmed!

Also, your latest chapter for the Hunger Games AU is so good! Donnie helping Digi and Gizmo is a little heartbreaking. He wants to be cold so bad, but no. And the descriptions were so excellent. I want to see all the designs! Especially the farmer and the corn haha. That cracked me up a bit:D Thanks for writing, I love to read it!

Sorry this took so long!! For some reason “hole” was just not wanting to cooperate with me! I had a handful of fleeting ideas (Zombie au, raph’s death in the bad timeline, shell rot, after the foot cass joins a cult that worships The Pit instead, etc) but ended up going with something for my Leave AU. I feel like I should have written you something RHG related since you gave me such a kind compliment about the last chapter. 😭 alas, my brain didn’t want to cooperate there. I hope you like this regardless!! @eb177

@boots-with-the-fur-club

It’s the fifth time they’ve run through this drill, but for some reason, Three just can’t seem to wrap his head around it. There’s something in the footwork, and the transition from one flowing movement to the next that he just keeps missing. His brothers are eyeing him nervously now. Their movements slow just a little, trying to give him time to catch up, or the opportunity to see how their steady movements differ from his own clumsy ones and fix his mistakes. 

Draxum has noticed. He’s watching them, eyes narrowed, lip curling with disdain. Three knows he should be better, just like he knows that his blundering and his brothers’ trying to cover for him will mean they get punished, too. He can’t let that happen, so he needs a way to draw all the attention (and all the ire) towards himself. Draxum draws closer, fury in his expression, a look that promises punishment for their unsatisfactory performance. Three’s heart is pounding hard against his plastron, and it’s easy to see that their creator is out for blood. 

When Draxum tells them to do it again, Three waits for him to circle closer. Then, he lets his ankle twist. He lets himself fall. 

One gasps and Four covers his mouth in a futile attempt to muffle his whimper. Two freezes, expression empty but eyes gone glassy and distant. Three barely has time to hit the ground before Draxum’s hand has circled his arm with bruising force, claws digging into muscle as he hauls him to his feet and drags him from the room. His brothers try to follow, but Three frantically shakes his head at them, eyes pleading. They fall back, watching him until the door slams shut between them.

He knows where they’re going. The fear is already rising like bile in his throat, choking him. It’s hard to breathe, and Draxum is so much bigger and he’s dragging him along now because Three is too short to keep up on his own, and the mark his grip leaves on his arm is going to take forever to heal, and he knows that this is going to hurt, and all he can think is at least it’s just me. 

The lab is usually forbidden. The only time Three is taken inside it is when he’s done something wrong. Something bad. Something that will require their creator to pick him apart to discover exactly what it is that has malfunctioned inside of him this time. Three doesn’t like the lab. 

There is a pit, tucked away in the corner. Maybe it used to be used for something good. Like a well, or a place to burn trash. Now it is used to hold them until Draxum has the time he requires to run his tests. To poke and prod and rip and cut and get answers to his many questions and grievances. 

Last time, he’d spent four days down there before Draxum had deemed it convenient to begin. Three trembles despite his best efforts to hide the fear that rises within him. The waiting is almost as bad as the tests. He wishes that Draxum would just get it over with, but he knows he’ll never get that lucky. After all, he’s the one who always puts himself into this position. He should just feel grateful that none of his brothers will be down there with him.

He hovers at the edge of the hole, his position held in the balance only by his creator’s hand on his arm. He wonders how long it will be this time. Draxum’s angry gaze tells him that he won’t like the answer. 

Draxum lets go of his arm. For one terrible, stomach churning second, Three remains where he is. Heels overhanging the emptiness, balanced only on his toes, swaying slightly as he stares up at his creator’s face. Draxum sneers. He presses one finger into the center of Three’s plastron. 

He tips backwards, into the darkness.

[gorteaus]

Possibly one of my favorite things about the royal guard pre-palace invasion is, despite both Pitou and Pouf being seemingly aware of the fact that Youpi only ever appears to possess half of a functioning brain cell on even the best of days…

They never give him any shit for it.

It would have been terribly easy to have the other guard shun or demean him or deride his opinion because of his lacking intelligence. Any number of pages into the arc however, we see none of this behavior on display.

And why not? Objectively, Youpi poses as the intellectual weak link of the group and presents a glaring blindspot should matters of defending the king be brought to question. With all three particularly devoted to their king's safety, it might've been imaginable that either Pitou or Pouf might be shown to be exasperated or even somewhat concerned with his apparent idiocy and the inconveniences it could bring- especially considering we're frequently given insight to their inner thoughts- but Togashi never gives us this with any of the other royal guard’s pov, while by contrast, it’s a topic occasionally ragged on by outsiders (think Welfin and Knuckle/Morel).

If Pouf and Pitou found little point interacting with Youpi, or least of all found his intelligence (or lack thereof) irritating, social ostracization would be on the table. While it would be great to acknowledge that keeping Youpi up-to-date on current going-ons might be a must considering his status as a royal guard and an additional force to protect Meruem regardless…

…they're regularly seen interacting with him of their own volition in idle situations of which neither require an urgent exchange of information or for Youpi's presence to be wholly necessary.

(i'm sure Youpi's attendance was extremely essential to Pouf's impromptu violin concerto. they're literally just hanging out.) The fact that they do seek each other's companionship should be noted here; the guard frequently coalesce together despite the fact that 1. Gortaeu’s palace is big and 2. There are other ants they could share their company with if they so wish. With this in mind it's safe to assume that Youpi's clumsy understanding of... well, anything, really, is never really an issue for them.

Pitou for example, seems perfectly content with answering in extended detail any questions Youpi may pose (even if they appear to be all the most obvious ones).

And further beyond all of that, there's reason to assume they actually… value his perspective and what he may have to contribute to a given matter despite his lacking wisdom. Segwaying to that bit...

(Pouf gets booted from the throne room, and with the rest of an entire palace at his disposal, the next spot he chooses to sit next to is… Youpi.) 

Had Pouf not seen anything of significance in talking to Youpi or viewed his opinion as meaningless in the slightest, I can’t imagine he’d genuinely engage him in an earnest (albeit cursory) dialogue regarding Komugi (even going so far as to confide in his fear about her evolution) as opposed to just brushing him off and leaving their discussion at that.

It's interesting to see that we get this sentiment from Pouf, one of the more mentally-acute of the guard (and someone who arguably prioritizes critical thinking the most), in disparity to Welfin, a virtual stranger who was loath to interact with Youpi or (understandably) share any sensitive information with him after discovering how useless he'd be.

It might be easy to figure the royal guard like each other beyond some vague sense of tolerance with surface level reading, but I find the implication of Youpi’s dynamic with the other two not often addressed.

[linalilia]

[meet the prisoners!] prisoner 003: ishizu shun!

ohhh he is so pathetic. i'm not even sure if i mean it in an affectionate way or like. i really do think he's pathetic.

(also yes i accidentally named two of my ocs after the canon prisoners' vas and at first i panicked and tried to think of something different, but i decided to keep these names, because it's kinda funny, especially because this boy's personality reminds me of haruka a lot and. well. prisoner 002 is not like kotoko AT ALL)

also i did mention that these guys have "canon verdicts" but i'd love to see what you guys think about him, because i really don't know if he would be voted innocent or guilty, haha. honestly most of my ocs would be voted guilty. it's okay they deserve it

(prisoner 001's profile)

(prisoner 002's profile)

Warning: mentions of derealization, an unhealthy relationship dynamic and questionable coping mechanisms.

General info:

Name: Ishizu Shun (石津 俊) (kanjis in his last name mean "stone" and "harbor" and kanji in his first name means "talented")

Age: 24 y/o

Gender: Male

Status: Prisoner 003

Birthday: July 13 (Cancer)

Height: 185 cm (i know he doesn't look like it but. he really is tall)

Blood type: O

Image color: #ECD4FF

Occupation: Fast food worker

Personality: Shun is one of the weirdest prisoners here. At first he just seems like someone who's very shy, has low self-confidence and gets scared easily, but when you get to know him better, you realize that this guy's brain works in a very strange way. Shun forgets things very easily, if he screams and you ask him what scared him so much, he will most likely just go ".. I don't remember". He also often feels like nothing around him is real and he often asks other prisoners or guards if they really are in Milgram right now or he's just dreaming. He looks lost and confused most of the time and he often ends up in very awkward situations. He's even more clumsy than Prisoner 002 and it's hard for him to see because of his hair, however, he still refuses to get a haircut for some reason. He refuses to do anything that might help him get better, like taking care of himself or even simply watching where he's going. It also should be mentioned that he doesn't remember only the things that made him feel bad in some way, for example, something that scared him or made him cry. If something makes him smile or laugh, he will still remember it well. He also often says the most random things in the middle of a conversation and even though at first some prisoners thought that he's just not good at paying attention, they later found out that he can perfectly understand what others are talking about, but he will still talk about something else instead.

MV info:

Which canon Milgram song he would cover: Throw Down. I also thought about Half but you see.. the Throw Down visuals fit his crime better :) And This Is How To Be In Love You is way too cheerful for someone like him, haha.

Which DECO*27 song he would cover: Dilemma.

If he could cover a song by a different Vocaloid producer, which one would it be: OHHHH I KNOW WHICH SONG I WANT HIM TO COVER but it perfectly describes his entire crime so.. I feel like it would work better as a Trial 2 (or even Trial 3) song. So for this trial I'll go with Karakuri Pierrot by 40meterP! Come on, boy, sing a sad love song for us.

His MV description: His MV would most likely have colors like dark shades of green, teal and blue, but it also would slowly start becoming more and more glitchy, so it would also have colors like bright red or purple. His MV would also look.. kind of weird, it's supposed to make the viewer feel anxious and feel like nothing in this video is real and Shun actually never did anything like this.

In the beginning, his MV would feel like the viewer is watching him through the cameras and we're supposed to observe him. We can see Shun checking his calendar and getting excited. He leaves the room and now he's in the kitchen and we're watching him through a different camera. It looks like he's trying to bake a cake, but he has no idea what to do, so he tries to look up something on his phone. However, for some reason he gets distracted and we can see him standing there and just scrolling, while his eyes become more and more empty. When he's done, he looks like he's about to cry, but then the POV changes and we're no longer watching him through the cameras, we see everything from Shun's perspective. We can see a bright red error message appearing right in front of him and if you look closer, you can notice it saying "Get back to work. Everything is fine" in a smaller font.

He keeps trying to bake a cake and he's slowly getting better at it, but he still gets distracted while doing it. We go back to watching him and we can see him looking at his ceiling, checking his phone every five seconds and going back to his room to check the closet for some reason and when he does so, he smiles and waves at.. someone hiding in there, maybe? More and more error messages keep appearing in front of him and they all say things like "None of this has ever happened" or "You have no reason to worry about this". The video starts becoming more glitchy and we can notice some things looking more blurry. For example, we can see Shun texting someone, but we can't see their name and their replies to his texts. However, we can still see Shun's messages. "I still want to spend this day with you though." "I know that we're no longer dating, but.." "I thought that maybe you can come and visit me today?" "You know.. we can just hang out as friends! I won't ask you to come back to me, I promise." Shun also has a lot of photos in his room, but all of them look extremely blurry.

When Shun is finally done with the cake, it doesn't look that great, but it's clear that he worked hard on it. He looks proud and right when he leaves the kitchen while holding a cake, he looks very happy at first, but then for some reason he ends up looking.. disappointed. Turns out that he has not one, but two guests and we can't even see one of them because of a huge error message. We can definitely see another guest though and he looks like a tall attractive dark-haired man who's holding another person's hand. But judging from his face expression, he doesn't look like the nicest person. Shun panics and he doesn't know what to do and suddenly everything around him becomes red and you can see exclamation marks everywhere and messages that say "Something is wrong, but don't worry about it". For a second you can see one of the messages saying "YOU are wrong, but don't worry about it". Everything goes black for a moment and the song stops playing as well. After that, the POV changes again and now we see everything from Shun's "error" guest perspective. He is smiling and eating a cake that he made and right when the guest looks at their boyfriend who's lying on the floor, Shun comes closer to them and closes something that looks like closet doors while still smiling. We can't see anything after that and the MV ends.

His Trailer 1 Voicelines:

"Um.. wait, d-do I have to introduce myself? I.. uh.. m-my name is Ishizu Shun, I guess.. Listen, I really d-don't think I should be here. I didn't do anything wrong, I swear! I just wanted to protect the person I love, that's all! I'm sure she misses me a lot too.."

"Oh.. so she forgot about our anniversary.." *sighs* "I just.. I wish she cared about me as much as I care about her."

Trivia.

He really wants to be voted innocent and the thought of getting voted guilty terrifies him.

He claims that he didn't commit any other crimes except murder but one of the guards doesn't believe him because he thinks this guy is way too suspicious.

He's surprisingly close with Prisoner 005, even though their personalities are so different. Prisoner 005 tries to help him open up and he also asked one of the guards to bring him a notebook so that he can give it to Shun as a gift. He thought that Shun would find that notebook useful because he can write down everything that happened during a day there so that he won't forget anything later.. but Shun also forgot that he has to write in that notebook.

Shun isn't really close with any other prisoners except Prisoner 005, however, Prisoner 006 is also very interested in him and she mentioned that if it wasn't for him having a girlfriend, she would definitely date him. He doesn't know how to feel about that though.

Shun's hair is dyed and his real hair color is dark purple. He dyed it before he got a girlfriend and he hoped that women will find him more attractive and interesting after that.

Nobody knows what Shun's eyes really look like because of his hairstyle, except one of the prisoners and they said that his eyes are completely empty and it actually makes him look like he's already dead. They think it's cute though.

One of the guards thinks that Shun intentionally forces himself to forget about the things he doesn't want to remember and that's how he copes with his stress. And considering how anxious he always is, that explains why his memory is so bad, literally anything can make him feel stressed and he just forgets about everything so that he doesn't have to worry about it.. or maybe he just pretends to forget things. Who knows. Maybe he really is smarter than he looks like.

[lokiskitten]

I NEED a part two of “first time”

Loki Laufeyson | first time pt2

Loki Laufeyson x fem!reader

plot : ( refer to pt1 ) after experiencing a first intercourse together, Loki insists on crossing the path towards the end. With only the fear of being seen by the other variants holding you back, you end up agreeing to follow the excited man’s proposition.

warnings : smut, extremely short moment of none-con followed by a consent check up, mention of virginity loss ( male ), unprotected sex ( pls for the love of god wrap it ) and lowkey sub!Loki.

“Now that was... ah. Nice.” You affirmed tiredly, knees colliding with one another though your feet remained slightly parted. Your organism was still trying to wash away the orgasm you had just reached with Loki’s divine help. Meanwhile, the god of mischief carried on staring at your body, resembling a scientist who led an experience on the human anatomy. He wanted to ask a thousand questions, but didn’t feel brave enough to dare to open his mouth just yet. In fact, he felt as if he was disturbing an intimate and personal moment of yours. It nearly managed to make the god feel flustered and awkward.

Looking closer, Loki was able to spot your own love juice dripping out of your entrance, coating your swollen lips and settling a deep emotion of lustful hunger within his soul. He wanted more, he needed more- and only you could potentially satisfy his crippling and frustrating sexual appetite at the moment. His hands rested on your knees, forcefully parting your thighs before he allowed himself to slip in between. Upon feeling a weight suddenly add up against your own mass, your eyelids moved open which allowed you to make eye contact with Loki. You felt surprised to see him there, and even more surprised to witness him behaving in such a way.

“What are you doing?” You asked, attempting to move your chest up with the help of your elbows- which led Loki to back away to sit down on his knees between your legs. “Well, I’m doing the thing. Isn’t that what people do next?” He explained, earning a frown from your shocked self. Though, you were still willing to be patient with him. “No, you always ask. Always. Do you understand?” You affirmed seriously, earning a shy nod from the demigod who didn’t really enjoy to be treated like a child. Though his aim wasn’t to ruin this moment by starting unnecessary drama- especially as he appeared to be in the wrong. But once this small moment of embarrassment had passed by, Loki felt like explaining the reason to why he appeared so frustrated.

“Look, I have a very painful..” he began, only to end up being cut off by your staring self who admired the long shape traced from within his pants. It was too big to miss. “Boner.” You finished before looking up at him, earning an embarrassed gasp coming from the demigod. “And I really want you.” He finished on a nearly sorrowful tone adding up to a puppy face- a note that managed to reach your heart. You shot a glare at the small wooden cabin in which Mobius and the other variants were having dinner, anxiety taking over your organism at the thought of potentially being seen or caught by them. “I don’t know..” You explained, earning a frown from Loki sitting before you who didn’t appear to understand why you were refusing the offer after you had both experienced such fun.

“Aw come on. What could possibly go wrong?” He cheered, giving your shoulder a gentle fist kick in order to lift the mood. Unfortunately, you couldn’t help but remain stoic. “Well, loads of things in fact.” You responded, leading Loki’s smile to drop instantly. “What if we get caught? That would be an embarrassment I’d never be able to get over. Not to mention the whole pregnancy issues if your princess self isn’t capable of pulling out at the right time.” You carried on, offering Loki multiple exemples to why this upcoming sexual intercourse could possibly go wrong. Ironically enough, he appeared more concerned and offended over the fact that you had just called him princess rather than getting worked up about the horrible consequences program you had just settled.

After spending a couple of seconds making useless eye contact with the raven haired man, you ended up breaking this one in order to shoot another glance towards the wooden cabin. The surroundings appeared calm, which managed to ease your anxiety. Besides, after leading you to cum in such an incredible way, you believed that maybe Loki deserved a release too- adding up to the fact that you’d feel proud to be the woman who would take care of breaking through his virginity. Turning your head back towards his, a nod was the only gesture that escaped your body. It instantly managed to lift the demigod’s mood. “Really?..” Loki asked, and that in order to make sure you weren’t tricking him, the most famous trickster.

“Yeah, lets give it a try.” You responded on a friendly tone, a discreet smile adorning your features as you watched Loki summon a blanket for the two of you. He had probably noticed the way you appeared to avoid dust with the help of your pants, and wanted to offer you better then this piece or clothing to protect your sensitive skin. However, he appeared to organize this upcoming event in quite a religious way. He made sure to keep the blanket flat against the floor, brushing away the wrinkles until you finally stopped him by taking ahold of his wrist. “This is the part where you take your clothes off.” You affirmed, underlining the fact that he probably should stop worrying about the wrong matters especially as you were running out of time.

“Oh, right right.” He answered politely, taking a seat on the green pled before he began to precariously unbutton his TVA shirt. You watched as his tone muscles were revealed, his abs shifting as he got rid of his upper piece of clothing for good. This checkpoint led you to look up at his greenish eyes again, the two of you exchanging a smile before he began to go for his belt. The shape of his hard member was still visible through his trousers, a length that would soon be set free once Loki would finally get rid of his pants. No shame or embarrassment seemed to fill his organism upon his lower clothes being pulled down to his knees- his crotch being revealed to your respectful sight. In contrary, Loki appeared more than proud of himself for finally getting to go through such a thing, which held him back from accumulating negative emotions.

Your two naked selves then laid down on the blanket, wrapping your arms around one another’s body and engaging in a rather friendly but passionate hug. You enjoyed this warm and safe physical contact, and you expected Loki to enjoy it too. The sensation of his moist tip rubbing against your stomach only made it better- as you still felt amazed regarding the size of his member. It combined both generous length and girth, and was also gifted with the perfect shape any woman, or man, could ever ask for. “You smell nice..” he affirmed, his nose being stuck to the crook of your neck as you happily passed your hands through his black hair. He ended up looking up at you, pressing a shy and respectful kiss to your lips. You smiled.

It didn’t take long for the two of you to roll around, switching to Loki now resting on top of you. He smiled down out you out of pure excitement, his tip already trying to find a way into your entrance- as clumsy as his hips could be. After taking notice that he appeared to have a hard time lining himself up with your hole, you slipped a hand down between your legs and gave his balls a gentle caress, earning a couple of sensitive moans coming from your excited partner. However, your hand then proceeded to slither it’s way up his shaft, delicate digits wrapping around this one’s girth in order to move it to where it should and wanted to be. When you felt like Loki was now ready to carry on on his own, your hand made its way back up to his shoulder before passing underneath his arm and wrapping around his smooth and muscular back.

The raven haired man looked down at you with slight panic in his eyes upon being aware that a single hip thrust of his could begin the intercourse, his shoulders now having to carry a great responsibility he simply wasn’t ready to fail. Unfortunately, Loki once again appeared to struggle with pushing himself in. Even when looking down at your crotch, he still didn’t manage to properly slide inside of you. However, upon taking notice of his distress again, you agreed to slip your hand back down to his groin, taking a gentle hold of his shaft which you locked between your thumb and index finger before offering him a little bit of help regarding penetration. Thankfully, his cock was now able to slide inside of you on it’s own even if it remained a slow process.

Moving your hand away, you allowed Loki to fully take over the penetration process as you watched his facial expressions clench and contract. Eventually his eyelids shut close, hips colliding with yours as his tip dangerously brushed against your sensitive cervix. You could tell that this was brand new for him, and that he visibly had a hard time handling it. “You’re doing amazing.” You affirmed empathetically, your hand gently caressing his flexed biceps. Meanwhile, Loki couldn’t help but focus onto the warmth your walls provided him, his brain still attempting to process how nice it felt to finally get to be coated in a woman’s love juices. It was tight, moist, and warm- long story short : the perfect environnement for his needy member.

“Maybe try to give moving a try..” you proposed shyly, your organism beginning to feel more than overwhelmed by Loki’s filling presence inside of you. After hearing about this offer, Loki began to slowly back away from your crotch, shiny length, which was coated in your love juice, sliding out of you with relative ease. The two of your moaned, though you appeared calmer than your friend at first- who you didn’t forget was currently going through his first intercourse ever. Therefore, judgment wasn’t present. It didn’t take long for a regular thrusting process to take place, your overly sensitive walls nicely reacting to the friction caused by Loki’s cock especially after getting to orgasm beforehand. Your arms remained wrapped around his back, the two of you rocking back and forth against the green blanket.

“You’re doing so good..” you whispered in his ear, eyelids remaining closed as your hand had now taken ahold of his long raven hair. Your main goal was to enhance him through this event, and give him the happiness and recognition he clearly deserves as a bed partner. However, your natural tightness adding up to the more than large size of his girth was overstimulating Loki’s genitals, sending shockwaves of pleasure down his shaft and straight into his tensed balls which repetitively bumped against the area located beneath entrance. “Don’t forget to- to pull out.” You begged breathlessly, his thrusts becoming more primal and intense now that he had gained some extra self esteem regarding the situation.

You couldn’t help but grow worried and work yourself up over this intercourse’s potential end, wondering if the man on top of you was going to be able to control himself and pull out before his cum could penetrate into your womb. Thankfully, this annoying state didn’t last for long and you soon found yourself lost into lust again. Your arms wrapped around his neck, teeth gently biting down onto his earlobe as you allowed yourself to tug on it in a primal yet harmless manner. Loki seemingly appeared to appreciate this move, another wave of moans exiting his mouth as he unexpectedly pulled out of your cunt in order to allow his own hand to wrap around his shaft.

A couple of pumps were enough to see white liquid spring out of his urethra, the sperme landing on your stomach and staining your delicate skin. You were both left breathless, for nearly the exact same reason as one another. Resting your hand onto your chest, you panted whilst looking down at the substance on your tummy which appeared surprisingly appetizing. “Loki..” you moaned gently, fingers brushing against one of the stained parts of your stomach before you brought your digit up to your lips. Even if you hadn’t tasted many, his cum appeared different than the rest on the gustative level. “That was amazing.” You affirmed with a smile, extending your arm for him to join you on the blanket. You were craving for his touch, more than you had ever craved anything before.

[ part one available right here ]

As requested, here’s part two! I hope it was enjoyable for you guys to read. Don’t hesitate to leave feedback, it means tons. Stay safe and happy❤️

[plus-size-reader]

Weird

Stu Macher x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 2755 words

Warnings: none

Summary: Stu developing a little bit of a thing for Randy’s coworker at the video store

Just a weird little thing my brain cooked up, with not too much intricate plot to speak of. 

—————————————————————————————————

He’d been staring at you for an hour.

If he didn’t knock it off soon, Stu was sure that it would start to get creepy but he couldn’t help himself. It wasn’t like he could just walk right up to you and start a conversation.

You probably wouldn’t even recognize him.

Besides, Stu wasn’t a super good conversationalist to begin with. He always got tongue tied and made inappropriate jokes at inappropriate times. There was no telling how it would go, especially with you.

Stu’d had his eye on you all this time, and while he had never had trouble making friends, it was different with you.

All he could do was walk around the aisles of the video store, doing his best to look busy as he browsed the video selection.

He had always liked movies, and wasted away plenty of  night watching tapes with his friends but as of late, the movies had little to nothing to do with his frequent visits to the Woodsboro rental, and everything to do with you.

At first, it was innocent.

One night while he and Billy were looking for a couple blockbusters to occupy their time, he noticed you behind the counter where he typically would have found Randy.

It should have ended there, but because Stu was Stu, of course it didn’t.

The next day at school, he had given his strangest friend the third degree about who the hottie in his place was and found out that you were new.

Randy didn’t know too much about you, other than the fact that you chewed gum the entire time you were on the floor and that your favorite movie was Frankenstein. 

It was hardly enough to get to know a person, but it seemed to appease the man enough to end the barrage of questions.

At least for a while.

It wasn’t until he came in six or seven times without his partner in crime that Randy started to get suspicious over just what Stu thought he was doing here. 

After all, he had a girlfriend, a very hot girlfriend, who he could be spending time with instead of stalking you at work.

Not that he actually went out of his way to ask the blonde right away.

While his being there so frequently definitely looked weird, there were plenty of explanations for what Stu could have been doing, and in all honesty, he kind of freaked Randy out.

Besides, if all he wanted to do was look through the VHS tapes, there wasn’t really anything he could do about it. Billy and Stu were both good customers and as long as they kept renting movies, it was all good.

If you just so happened to be there when he came in, that was just how it was.

After all, you worked there so you were bound to be there pretty often. That meant that, coupled with the amount of time Stu and Billy spent there looking for good stuff to watch, you were bound to run into them quite a bit.

There were a lot of regulars.

Woodsboro was a relatively small town and you got familiar with people’s faces, especially those you saw all the time, but that didn’t mean you really knew them. You had begun to recognize Randy’s friends, but they were little more than that to you.

Maybe that was why you seemed to be so oblivious to Stu’s constant attention on you. To you, he was just another customer, one that you were even less familiar with then most of the others because Randy handled all of their business.

You very rarely even interacted with them at all.

Not to mention that you were extra busy tonight with the murders and all that. The residents of this town had taken that terrible act as inspiration to have their own blood-soaked horror movie nights in the comfort of their own homes.

There were so many people here tonight that you weren't even sure you would have had time to notice any individual person at all.

You may not have had time, but Randy certainly did and he’d had enough.

Not only was what Stu was doing inappropriate because he had a girlfriend, but it just made Randy feel kind of weird. You were a really cool person, sometimes Stu would have known if he ever bothered to say hello to you, and you didn’t deserve to be gawked at while you were trying to work.

“You’ve been looking at that for a while, you need help deciding?” Randy asked, less than subtly catching Stu in the middle of his ogling, not that the latter seemed to care in the least. Randy worked with you all the time, surely he saw what Stu saw.

You were hot.

That wasn’t his fault.

All he did was notice.

“Nah man, I’m good” he hummed, even going as far as to wink at Randy, making it painfully obvious that he knew exactly what he knew. There was nothing wrong with checking out a cute girl, and if anything, he assumed that Randy was just jealous.

After all, Stu was sure that he hadn’t made a move on you yet.

“You know Y/N’s a person right? you could just go talk to her” Randy scoffed, snatching the tape from Stu before he could argue.

This whole thing had been going on for too long and it was starting to get ridiculous.

Stu didn’t say anything for a second as he thought over what Randy was proposing. It couldn’t have hurt to actually talk to you, even with as nice as just staring at you for the last hour or so had been.

There was a small chance Billy wouldn’t like it, with the threat it would pose to their long con it would pose, but when the blonde glanced over at his friend to find him chatting up a few girls of his own, he made up his mind.

It wasn’t like talking to you would be the end of the world or something. It was just a conversation and it was like Randy said, you were a person after all.

You had been stacking VHS tapes on the displays around the store for the last few hours, filling in gaps here and there, and by this point, it was like muscle memory. You didn’t really think about it as you put each case on the wall, hardly paying attention to your surroundings.

This was just supposed to be a job to help pass the time and give you a little bit more walking around money, and you didn’t get paid enough to cater to every customer's every need.

That kind of thing was much more up Randy’s alley, who treated this job like the greatest thing to ever happen to him. If someone had a question about a movie, you pointed them in his direction and kept on stacking.

...but that wasn’t always going to work.

Out of nowhere, you heard someone clear their throat behind you, too close to be directed at anyone that wasn’t you.

Naturally, having worked here for a while, you assumed that it was just someone with a question about where to find something and turned around. Helping people find the things they were looking for was literally your only job, after all.

What you could have never expected was Stu Macher, standing there with an almost expectant grin on his face.

“Can I help you find something?” you asked, practically reciting from the script you were given when you were hired here. He was probably looking for some movie full of Jamie Lee flashing her tits, just like every other guy around here was.

Whatever it was he needed though, he needed to get to it.

You had to restock all of these shelves with titles from the back, a task that would surely keep you here until midnight anyway. 

The longer he took to get to the point, the more behind you would be.

Besides, it wasn’t like he needed you specifically for that. He could have just as easily asked Randy for whatever horny horror fest he was searching for.

Not that such a simple idea had struck Stu in all the time he’d been here, doing whatever it was he was doing.

“I’m actually just looking,” he hummed, shrugging in a way that should have sent him back to where he had previously been browsing, if it hadn’t been for the fact that it was a complete and total lie. 

Stu was only here for one reason, and one reason alone.

He had to make a move.

If he didn’t, it was becoming clear that Randy was thinking about it and there was just no way the blonde was going to let that happen.

“You come here often?” he tried after a few seconds, letting himself lean a bit over you, consuming all the space that your height didn’t occupy.

It was quite the line, you had to give him that, not that it was anything other than awkward given his clumsy, goofy delivery and the dopey look on his face.

He wanted to be cool about this whole thing, and to come off mysterious and suave, like Billy always did, but it wasn’t working. Obviously, because as soon as he said it, you laughed.

You actually laughed.

It was hardly the reaction Stu had been expecting from you, or any guy could have expected under the circumstances, but he assumed it was better than you just shutting him down right off the bat.

At least if you were laughing, you weren’t walking away.

“What?” he laughed, an almost unsettled edge to his desperate attempt to salvage any part of this interaction. Given all the time that he’d had to prepare for what exactly it was he was going to say to you, it should have been much better than that.

...but you had to give him some credit.

As awkward as this was, he put himself out there in a way that took a lot of courage, courage that most guys around here didn’t have. Normally, they would just make some crude attempt at sexualizing you then call you fat when you rejected it.

Stu was already vastly ahead of the douchebags you were used to.

“Nothing, that's just much more of a line than I was expecting, Randy put you up to it?” you questioned, catching sight of the way the male in question was gawking over at the two of you, not even bothering to pretend he wasn’t snooping.

It wouldn’t have surprised you if he set it all up to be funny, but Stu didn’t seem to find the same understanding. In fact, he was almost insulted by the idea of what you were suggesting. Like he couldn't just hit on a pretty girl without a reason?

He’d done it plenty of times before without cause.

“Nah, I just wanted to get to know you a little better” he shrugged, continuing to talk even as you leaned down to gather a few of the movies from the storage boxes, headed to the rom com section to stock them on the shelves.

It was sweet, in a strange way.

He was really weird, you couldn’t act like he wasn’t, but there was also something about him that was almost endearing.

“Well, I’m a captive audience until six so ask away” you allowed, a small smile on your face as you tried to focus on doing your job while also maintaining a conversation with the man in front of you. You were trying really hard to keep it as professional as possible, but it wasn’t exactly easy.

After all, he was laying it on pretty thick, making it overly clear just how interested in you he was even though he was trying to convey an air of casualness.

“Okay, what’s your favorite movie?” came Stu’s voice again, accompanied by the tapping of his fingers on the shelf.

You thought over his question for a second or so, doing your best to figure out what he wanted you to say before you decided to just go with it. Talking to Stu wasn’t the worst thing you would have to do today, and based on how it was going, it might actually help pass the time.

At least he was entertaining.

“It depends on what genre you’re looking at, I guess. I like all kinds of stuff” you decided, standing up briefly to find him leaning over the shelf separating the two of you, his face in his hand.

If nothing else, he certainly seemed to be pretty enthralled with this conversation.

It was something you didn’t get super often, and it would be a lie to say that it didn’t feel nice to have someone so interested in every single word that fell from your lips.

It was no wonder he was so popular.

“I’ve always been a horror guy myself. Like any of those?” he asked, tapping his fingers gingerly on the shelf as he spoke, syncing up his words rather nicely as he grinned at you. He was hoping, not so secretly, that you did.

As much as he was clearly attracted to you, his obsession with gore was a big part of Stu’s life and he didn’t want to miss out on it in any way.

It would just be a huge bonus if you liked watching them with him, so that you could watch them together for date nights and stuff.

It would be a good time, not to mention the fact that he and Billy only ever really did that.

“Yeah, I do. That’s actually why I started working here” you informed, thinking about just how quickly you had applied for this job once you found out they were hiring. Of all the places you could work in this town, it just felt like the place.

It was perfect.

“That’s great, I was hoping you'd say that” Stu allowed, smiling at you as he thought about it. All in all, this was going a lot better than he could have ever assumed and now that he knew he could check the horror block with you too, he was thrilled.

You couldn't have been more perfect for him.

“Maybe we could watch some sometime, at my folks place?” he offered, a twinkle in his eye as he finally got to the point that he’d been waiting for all this time.

The two of you had never really had a conversation alone before now, because his friends were always tagging along. However, it wasn’t as if he’d made too bad a first impression, as strange as he was.

You were kind of lost as to what could have brought this on so suddenly but watching a movie or two at his house couldn’t have been the end of the world.

He was harmless, and besides, it could have been fun to get to know him better.

You stopped, straightening up to look him in the face, that same sly grin there that he hadn’t been able to wipe off his face in this entire time.

“Yeah, we can do that. You can just get my number from Randy and call sometime” you smiled, turning back away to finish up the last of the box from the back. The sooner you finished this up, the sooner you could start cleaning up from the rush.

For you, it was a simple enough suggestion. Randy and the rest of your coworkers all had your telephone number and seeing as they were pretty close, it would just be easier for him to get it there. 

If your manager found out you were flirting on the job, you would never hear the end of it.

Though, for Stu, it was far less innocent. He had only really just interacted with you in this new way but now that he had, he wasn’t exactly a huge fan of Randy already having your number.

Especially not knowing how much the male in question likes you.

“Cool, cool, I’ll talk to you later then” Stu nodded, turning around to find Randy still watching intently. He seemed to really think that he had a shot but now that Stu had made up his mind, there was no way he was ever going to let that happen.

You were too good for him to just let you go so easily.

[heroloverangel]

Delicate

This is technically a sequel to last year’s Dad Mirio fic but can be read on its own! Everyone’s favorite Wholesome Dilf continues to live rent-free in my brain.

“I miss you soooo much,” Mirio says for the fifth time in the past twenty minutes. You give him a comforting smile from your side of the screen, you know how he feels. Your husband’s been gone for three days now helping with a disaster in Osaka, and he probably won’t be home for the rest of the week. It’s hard being married to one of Japan’s top heroes, you think to yourself. You wish you could be there with him, putting your training to good use where it’s needed, but your current assignment is too important to ignore. It’s as if he can read your mind from the other side of the country. “How’s my buddy doing?”

You smile and tilt your camera down to show off your heavy stomach. At eight months pregnant, you’re sidelined from hero work no matter what the crisis is. “He’s alright,” you confirm. “I think he’s bored without you around, though.” He lets out a little whine that’s almost heartbreaking; it’s obvious where he’d rather be right now. You take pity on him and drop the phone level with your belly to give him a better view. 

“Hey buddy,” he coos. “I promise, I’ll finish as fast as I can so I can come home to you and Mama soon.” You feel movement inside you as he talks. You don’t know how good your baby’s hearing is, especially through the video chat, but you’re sure that he’s reacting to his father’s familiar voice. “I can’t wait to get back and feel how strong you’re kicking in there. I bet you’re driving Mama crazy!” You relax further into your pillows and let him babble on to your bump about his day saving civilians and clearing out rubble, only a little lonely when you look over at the empty half of your bed. You really do miss him, your house is far too quiet and calm without his usual energy filling it.

You yawn after a few more minutes and glance at the time. “Sorry, it’s getting kinda late. Would you mind if we called it a night for now?”

He smiles, but you can tell that he’s trying to hide his disappointment. “No problem, I know you need your sleep. We’ll talk again tomorrow, okay?” You agree and tell your husband you love him before hanging up the phone and settling in for bed. You’re tired, but you’ve gotten too comfortable with him sleeping beside you and it takes awhile to fall asleep on your own.

You spend the next morning balancing your laptop over your swollen belly while you browse through maternity clothes. There’s a local shop that promises same-day delivery, and you treat yourself to a few things for your last month. You read through your email, a magazine wants a quick interview for an article about hero families and you’re happy to answer their questions. It’s hard to move too much in your condition, but you make sure to do the prenatal exercises your doctor recommended and then have a nice long shower. Your new clothes arrive and you leave them on the dresser for now while you eat lunch and call your family. It still seems too quiet in the house without Mirio, and you’re getting bored when your phone finally rings and your face lights up at his name.

“Hey sweetheart! I’ve got a surprise for you!”

You can hear the smile in his voice and it warms your heart. “Is it dinner? I think somebody in here’s really craving steak tonight.”

He laughs. “You’ll see. Just have a seat on the couch and close your eyes for a second, okay?”

This isn’t the weirdest thing he’s requested over the phone, and you obey. “Alright, they’re closed. What are you planning, Lemillion?”

“You can open your eyes in three...two...one…” his voice disappears from the phone, all you hear is the background noise of birds chirping.

“Mirio?” Your eyes are still closed.

“SURPRISE!” 

You jump in shock and drop your phone, your eyes flying open. He’s standing in front of you with the biggest grin on his face, completely naked. It takes you a second to realize he must have phased through the front door to surprise you. You struggle to stand but fail, and he has to pull you up himself into his arms for a deep kiss. “You’re home early! How’d you manage that?”

“The others knew how much I wanted to get home, with you being pregnant and all, and everybody worked extra hard to cover for me so I could leave first.” You owe every single one of them a thank you gift. “Boy, that Uravity is amazing with rescue work!” Oh, you owe her twice as much after this.

“I’m glad you’re home,” you sigh happily. Your husband drops to his knees in front of you and pushes your shirt up to kiss your stomach, rubbing his hand where he feels a faint kick.

“Me too. I missed our family so much.” His arms wrap around you and he rests his head against your middle. You run your fingers through his hair, both of you taking a minute to relish your little reunion. It’s only been a few days, but it was more than enough to make you homesick for each other.

He stands back up after a bit and you head for the hallway. “You should go grab your phone off the porch and take a shower. I’ve got a bit of a surprise for you too, when you’re done.” He’s happy to obey and you follow him down the hall, pausing at the front door then into the bedroom. You wait for the bathroom door to shut and then spring into action as fast as you can. You clothes come off; you kick them under the bed instead of wasting precious time trying to pick them off the floor. 

You reach for the new clothes on the dresser and find the outfit you’d picked for his welcome home gift. The bra is made out of soft white lace so flimsy it looks like it’ll tear if you breathe too hard. It ties closed with a ribbon in the front and your clumsy fingers finally form a decent bow on the third try. A skirt attaches beneath the cups and just skims your thighs, the two halves of it parted to show off your obvious pregnancy. You’re lucky that the matching underwear ties on the sides with more ribbon; you’re not sure you’d be able to get them on without five minutes of struggling if you had to step into them. 

You look at yourself in the mirror and adjust the skirt of your lingerie. Despite the sheer fabric leaving little to the imagination, you look sweet. Innocent. Delicate. A grin spreads across your face; it’s perfect.

You get dressed just in time; you hear the shower turn off and the door opens a second later. “There, all clean and-” Mirio freezes at the sight of you and you see his fingers twitch against the towel wrapped around his waist. “Oh, wow. You look...just, wow.” He’s crossed the room faster than you can react, strong arms wrapping you in a tight, warm hug. “You’re so gorgeous like this, babe.”

You lean into his body; you’ve missed this while he was gone. “Well, it’ll be awhile before we can do this again. I figured we should really enjoy ourselves while we still can.” He nods and gives you a surprisingly gentle kiss. You can tell he’s holding back his strength for your benefit and the knowledge makes your heart flutter.

Mirio recovers from his surprise quickly and returns to his usual unstoppable energy. “I’m gonna make you feel so good, I promise!” His bigger hand is warm around yours as he guides you to your bed, losing his towel in the process. You don’t hide your staring; his body is gorgeous after so many years of training and you could look at him for hours. He sits back against the headboard and carefully brings you with him to straddle his lap, and you feel his cock already growing hard against your thigh. “We’ll take it easy,” he promises. “I know we have to be a little more gentle now since you’re so big-” You stare down at Mirio silently, but he continues. “What? You are big, that’s a good thing. You’re growing our baby in there, he needs all that room!” You just shake your head; you can’t really feel annoyed when he’s this sweet.

He looks up at you with pure affection written all over his face and leans into your touch as you run your fingers through his damp hair. “How can you be this buff and this adorable?” It’s not the first time you’ve asked as much, and every time he laughs you off with a faint blush on his cheeks. You lean in for another kiss while his hands move from your hips over your ribs to the front of your slip.

“This is so pretty, you should keep it on.” He gives your chest a squeeze and you whine, too sensitive from the hormones wrecking havoc on your body. You knew your breasts were going to get bigger, but they’ve turned out to be overachievers and you’ve jumped up two cup sizes already. “They’re still really sore, huh?” You nod and he offers you a comforting smile as he plays with the bow before finally tugging it open. Your nipples are already hard, and you don’t miss how he licks his lips when his thumb brushes over one. “I could help you with that, if you want.”

“Mirio…” You love your husband and all his enthusiasm, but you’re well aware that he can be a little too eager and get carried away. He’s being careful now as his fingers trace against your warm skin, his touch barely teasing you. He pulls you closer; you can feel the smile on his lips as he leans into your neck. He follows your pulse, down your collarbone to leave kisses at the swell of your breast and you sigh. “Okay,” you agree. “Just remember to-”

“I know, be gentle. Don’t worry babe, I’m gonna take good care of you.” He pushes your lingerie out of the way to get a better view at your heavy chest and appreciates the sight of it. “Man, our kid’s not gonna be lacking on calcium, is he?”

“I love you, please stop talking.” He laughs but obeys, his tongue flicking over your nipple and making you squirm in his arms. He does it a few times and you let out a little gasp when he takes you into his mouth. “Go easy,” you remind him, but he’s already distracted with his task. You asked your doctor about doing this before and were told it was perfectly fine, but you can’t quite shake the thought that it’s a little weird as Mirio begins to suck at your tender nipple.

You’ve tried this before, but every time he’s been too rough in his excitement and you’ve had to yank his head away from you in pain. Tonight though, he’s trying his best and after a few seconds of discomfort there’s an unfamiliar tingle deep in your breast as your body responds to his stimulation. “It feels weird,” you groan, but your fingers thread into his hair so he won’t pull away. “It’s not bad, just weird.” You’re not entirely sure you like what he’s doing, but you’re willing to continue until you figure it out. His tongue brushes over you with a slightly different motion, and something in you clicks into place. “Can you do that again? I think I liked that.”

His laughter is muffled but still obvious and you can feel the smile against your skin. Mirio’s happy to assist, one strong hand settling on your back to keep you steady. It wasn’t a mistake; he repeats his movements and you realize that it feels good. It feels really good, you have to admit, as his eyes slip closed so he can focus entirely on pleasing you like this. You hold him tight to your body, fingers running through his messy hair while you enjoy the affection so happily given. You’re still sensitive though, and after a few more minutes you start to get overwhelmed and have to pull him away.

“It tastes good.” His grin is huge as he licks his lips. “It’s sweet, just like the rest of you.” You’d roll your eyes if he wasn’t so cute. He gives your breast a gentle squeeze and earns another whimper from you, then turns his attention to the other one. “Don’t want this side feeling left out, right? Lucky I’m here to take care of everything!” Your heart skips a beat, you’re so in love with this silly, wonderful idiot. You don’t get a chance to respond, once his mouth is back on you it’s hard to do anything besides pant and whine for him.

You squirm against him, his dick pressing against your thigh and your panties doing very little to hide how much you’re loving this. “Miriooo,” you moan, and the look in his eyes is nothing but pure happiness that makes you melt. “You always take good care of me,” you coo, reaching down to stroke his cock lightly. “You’re so good to me, honey.” He pulls you closer and releases your chest to look up and meet your eyes.

“Babe, I’m just giving you what you deserve. You’re literally making a brand new, little person in there. If that’s not worth being extra nice, I don’t know what is.” He really has no idea how perfect he is. His thumb brushes over your nipple and your body is so sensitive now it makes you shudder. “Alright now?”

You stop for a second to consider. Your breasts do feel a bit lighter, there’s less pressure weighing down on you after his help. “Yeah, thanks. You’re the best, really.”

He brushes off your compliment in favor of pulling at the strings holding your underwear together. “Just doing my job, miss.” He groans at the sight of you fully naked and traces a finger along the lips of your cunt. You hadn’t noticed just how wet you were getting as he’d worked on your nipples, but now two of his fingers slip inside you with no effort. “I love you so much,” he says with another kiss.

You buck into his hand mindlessly, too eager for his touch after only a few days. You want to hold off and come with his dick buried inside you, but you can’t deny yourself when you’re this needy already. “I want it,” you whine pitifully.

His other hand gives your hip a reassuring squeeze. “I know, baby. You can have whatever you want, just tell me.” His thumb swirls over your clit and he doesn’t miss the jolt that runs down your body. “Right there, huh? My pretty little wife wants me to make her come?” His smirk is playful and there’s a glint of mischief in those friendly eyes.

“Mirio, please.” Hearing him talk like that does something to you and you hide your face in the crook of his neck.

His hand moves faster and your pussy clenches tight around his fingers. “It’s alright, I’ve got you. Just let yourself go for me.” His voice is so warm and soothing, you can’t resist. Your orgasm is marked with desperate whispers in his ear as his hand moves gently between your thighs to urge you on. “That’s it, honey. You’re so good, I want more of you.”

It takes you a minute to calm down before you’re able to pry your sweaty face away from his shoulder. His fingers leave you aching to be filled again, and you swallow hard when you watch him bring them to his mouth to lick them clean. 

“That’s my girl,” he smiles like the sun and you look away, almost embarrassed by the affection between you two. You can’t see anything past your swollen belly, but you can feel his thick cock ready for a turn. “Are you up for more? It’s fine if you need to wait-”

You fumble blindly for his cock until the tip presses just outside your cunt. “I want you inside me. Here, Mirio. Your pretty little wife wants to make you come.” The blush spreading across his face at your words is a special reward of its own. His hips thrust upward to enter you while he slowly pulls you down to meet him, and your mouth falls open in a long moan. “Fuck, Mirio. We’ll have to wait a couple weeks after he’s born and it’s gonna suck so bad.”

He hasn’t put much thought into this fact and you can practically see the gears in his head turning. “Well then, I guess we’d better make it count while we still have the chance,” he says finally. He’s always so much stronger than you, even when you’re not in such a delicate condition, and easily sets a steady pace moving you up and down his dick. You cling to his shoulders to steady yourself as you ride him, pressing your tongue into hs mouth to devour his sounds. This may be the peak of happiness, with your sweet husband pounding away inside your excited pussy, showering you with compliments about how great you are and how perfect your little family is going to be. “And once he gets a little older, we can start working on his siblings!”

Your hips falter in their rhythm at the suggestion. “S-siblings? Already?”

He grins back at you. “Of course! We need five or six, at least!”

“Five or six…” you repeat, suddenly distracted by the thought of doing this another half-dozen times. You don’t know why you’re surprised, it’d be more of a shock if he didn’t have infinite love to share. The idea doesn’t bother you, and you find yourself returning his smile with a smirk of your own. “You really wanna fill me up that much, Lemillion?”

You’re not expecting his thrusts to speed up so much or for him to pull you down so hard you’re gasping for air. “God, babe. So much. I think about it like, all the time now. You have no idea.” He stops to kiss you again, and your cunt squeezes hard around him. “I can take more time off of work,” Mirio insists mindlessly, getting far too ahead of himself. “I bet I can hold so many babies at once.”

You laugh, he’s so ridiculous sometimes. “Let’s just focus on this one for awhile, okay?” He nods, trailing his lips down your throat to feel how fast your pulse is racing for him. You can feel another orgasm building, and that he isn’t far behind. You were only apart for three days but it seems like far too long. “You’re really, really the best.”

He cups your sweaty face in one hand, the look in his eyes so soft and loving it takes your breath away. There aren’t enough words to describe how much you love him right now, and clearly it’s the same for him. Wordlessly he releases you and drags his hand down your body, stopping to tweak your nipples and making you cry out. His fingers drop to rub firmly against your clit, and your back goes rigid. “Miri-ohh. Just like that, I’m gonna...there, fuck.” You clamp down hard on his cock with a loud moan and he holds you tight, supporting your overworked body while you come. “Here,” your voice is ragged. “Your turn, I know you’re dying to come inside me.”

“You’re amazing, honey.” That last compliment is all he gets out before his pace goes sloppy and you feel him flooding your pussy with a low groan. “You’re so amazing.” 

You cling to him while he gradually wears himself out and stay wrapped up in his arms for the next few minutes. Eventually, there’s a firm kick in your belly that informs you that someone noticed all your movement and he’s not happy about it. Both of you laugh as you separate; you flop down on the bed while Mirio cleans you up and finds you a comfy, oversized shirt and fresh panties to wear. It’s still fairly early, and you won’t be tired enough to sleep for a few hours.

“Now that was a welcome home gift. You should just wear that around the house until you have the baby, it looks really great on you.”

You ruffle his messy hair. “I don’t think it would survive the entire month around you,” you tease. You stretch your arms above your head and feel a grumble in your stomach. “So, the surprise wasn’t steak for dinner tonight?”

He’s in too good of a mood to even think of denying you. “It is now!” He’s already fumbling for his phone to look up menus. “Whatever you wanna eat, just say the word!”

Sometimes you wonder how you ever got so lucky.

[khaotic-kitsunes]

Drifting

I had so much fun writing up the introduction to this request! You’ll probably see why in just a minute too...but, fun fact, the lovely Khaos, the newest addition to the blog, helped me out with this request when I found myself a little stuck!

Khaos added a helpful amount of amazing to the ending scene, so be sure to thank them for their amazing input! Oh, and make sure ya let us know what you think, okay?

I would also like to add that I know it’s been quiet here on the blog and I’m sorry for that but personally, I’ve had some...curveballs thrown at me health wise so you probably won’t see a lot from me. So, yeah.

Navigation 

Cheeky Kitsune 🦊💋

.

 Tamaki slowly peeked up above the ocean’s surface, keeping as quiet as possible to remain unnoticed while he allowed his eyes to land upon the object of his curiosities and affections; swallowing thickly when he realised that you had shown up at exactly sunset yet again, just like always.

 And, as always, you were alone. You had no companions that could prevent him from stealing you away to his secret cave and no one to help you if he decided to keep you to himself. An idea that appealed to him more with each of your visits to the beach.

 What interested Tamaki most, however, was the fact that with each of your visits, you made sure to only come by the secluded beach at sunset; when everyone else had gone home for the day. Tourists seemed to believe all the local’s stories of monsters beneath the water’s surface, waiting for the sun to go down so that their attacks could go unnoticed until it was too late.

 Of course, it was all nonsense. Tamaki was the only merperson to occupy this particular beach and he had been for quite a few years now; any and all monsters were long gone, migrated to places that weren’t so aware of the dangers that lurked beneath the depths.

 But it was also because of the late hour that you came to the beach, that Tamaki couldn’t approach you. He was all too aware of how a human woman might react to a random man approaching them in the water when the sun was beginning to set, shadows casting over the sky and melting the beautiful orange hues into an inky blackness.

 So, instead, Tamaki had to be satisfied with watching you from afar. Appreciating your beauty and daydreaming about all the different possibilities of meeting you; how he could befriend you and get closer, all while knowing it would be an impossibility.

 .

 ~  ~  ~

 .

 Tamaki stared at you with wide, saucer-like eyes, his mouth hanging open while you swam towards him slowly; your body remaining below the water’s surface, hiding the fact that you were without your bikini top.

 The very same bikini top that he held in his hands, a scrap of clothing that he had been inspecting out of confusion given that it was nearly midnight and he had thought that you had left the beach hours ago like you normally would.

 “…I think that’s mine” Your softly uttered words startled him, making him jolt and sink down further into the water while he released the bikini top; allowing it to float up to the surface, harmlessly bobbing up and down with the waves between the both of you.

 “Sorry, I uh, didn’t realise that someone else was here” He muttered out a pathetic excuse for an apology, trying his best not to let his tentacles move into your line of sight; desperate to at least seem normal, even if it wouldn’t be a lasting impression.

  Tamaki gulped nervously as he watched you reach for the floating bikini top, averting his gaze when you shuffled around to put the piece of clothing back on; the hurried movements of your fingers catching his attention with how the water splashed from the clumsy actions. The silence beginning to feel awkward while Tamaki tried his best not to look at you before you were ready, not wanting to come off as a pervert. Not to you.

 “It’s okay, I didn’t realise anyone else was here either. Not this late at night anyways and certainly not with the way everyone goes on about the monsters that are waiting for sunset so they can eat you” You rolled your eyes as the words left your lips, briefly giving Tamaki a once over before nodding your head to yourself; making Tamaki wonder if you were giving him the benefit of the doubt despite how strange it was for him to be here at this time, more so considering that he had technically been holding onto your bikini top.

 Then again, it would make sense for you to assume that he had thought it was a piece of seaweed; because honestly, that’s exactly what Tamaki had first thought when he picked it up.

 It wasn’t uncommon for people to investigate strange and/or suspicious objects that were found floating in the ocean, only to cast them away as quickly as they had been found. Tamaki had seen humans do so more times than he could count and luckily for him, he had had the brains to immediately release the skimpy piece of clothing; a guilty man would have tried to hide it, or simply kept held of it. Not Tamaki though, he had dropped it, allowed you to take it back and even averted his gaze so that you could have some form of privacy while fixing your top; even if it hadn’t been a great deal of privacy. There was only so much he could offer given the circumstances after all.

 However, even with these facts in mind, Tamaki could easily see that you were still on guard and he was happy to see such a thing. It reassured him that you didn’t trust random strangers in the water just because they had been polite enough to look away while you were topless.

 “Still, I am sorry…about your top, I mean. If I had of known what it was…” Tamaki trailed off as his face flushed with embarrassment, the tips of his pointed ears beginning to turn a similar shade of scarlet while he dipped further into the gentle waves of the night’s warm ocean waters; only stopping when his nose was beneath the salty waters.

 “It’s fine, okay? No harm, no foul” You hummed out the words in a soft voice, swimming around to face the embarrassed merman; all the while being completely unaware of what he truly was.

 “So…what brings you out so late?” Your question made Tamaki’s body go stiff, anxiety rushing through his system while his brain scrambled to think of something, anything to say in response to such an innocently asked question; anything but the truth, that is.

 There was no way known that Tamaki could tell you the truth behind his daily visits to this beach, especially when he could live happily and stealthily beneath the ocean waves for the rest of his life if it weren’t for your presence on this beach.

 Tamaki wanted to slap himself. Here he was, minding his own business in the ocean when the opportunity that he would have killed for, landed in his lap. The chance to speak with you, instead of just stare at you from afar and yet here he was, completely and utterly unable to get a single word out; instead, the fears of what could happen filled his mind.

 The terrifying what ifs of you hating him if he opened his mouth and said the wrong thing tormenting him into a nervous silence. Tamaki’s only relief from the situation, was that he would have the memories of having gotten close to you without making you scream and panic; though that also meant that no one would notice if he were to steal you away in that moment, if he took you to a place that no one would ever hope to find.

 But that was something that he couldn’t do and definitely something that Tamaki shouldn’t think about, unless he wanted to fuel the desires that he so often pushed aside. You would surely hate him if he were to do even half of the things that he had thought about.

 “Well, I guess I’ll see you around…” You mumbled out the farewell awkwardly, turning away from Tamaki in order to swim back towards the shore, no longer able to enjoy the solitude of an empty beach.

 “Uh, wait!” Tamaki called out to you again, finally able to find his voice once more as he reached out for you, his hand closing around your arm. Sealing his choice of interaction with you when you turned to face him. He should have let you leave.

 “Your…um, your strap, it’s loose…” He barely managed to mumble out the words without humiliating himself, averting his gaze when he found himself unable to meet your eyes; not needing the added kick of self-loathing on top of his nervousness.

 “You’ll lose your top again if you don’t fix it…”

 .

 “Oh. Well, do you mind?”

 .

 Tamaki gulped nervously as you turned your back to him once more, allowing him to reach for the loose strings belonging to your bikini top; needing to untie the knot that you had created in a rush minutes ago. If Tamaki were telling the truth, the knot probably would have held, but at the same time, he wouldn’t get another chance to let his skin brush against your own.

 Now, he was in heaven, making sure to tie a strong knot while at the same time, being sure that it wasn’t so tight that you wouldn’t be able to undo it yourself later on.

 “There…all done” He mumbled out the words under his breath when he was finished tying the knot, his fingers lingering on your skin for a brief moment, wanting more; though you pulled away before he could get ahead of himself.

 Leaving Tamaki to breathe a sigh of release, all while silently cursing both himself and all of his pent-up desires. More so when you spun around to smile at him, the radiance you gave off nearly blinding his mopey self.

 “You’re beautiful…!” Tamaki blurted out the words before he could stop himself, quickly slapping his hands over his mouth with his eyes going wide in a mix of shock and horror. Mortified that he had said something like that without realising.

 Your eyes went wide, the smile fading from your lips and making Tamaki wish that he had legs so that he could kick himself. Unaware that you weren’t upset, but rather the opposite, never having been so earnestly complimented before; it brought an unfamiliar warmth to your cheeks and to your heart.

 “Um…thanks…” Tamaki watched you as you swam closer to him, torn between escaping to the ocean’s depths and closing the gap between the two of you; desperate for both, yet knowing better than to actually reach for the object of his desires.

 With his mind struggling to choose between the two options, Tamaki froze in place at the worst time; allowing you to move closer until he felt your warm toes brush over his wriggling tentacles, fear filling him when you jolted back in surprise. Your eyes scanning the dark waters for seaweed.

 “What’s…wrong?” Tamaki mentally slapped himself for asking while he watched you lower your head closer to the water’s surface, still searching for seaweed that he knew you wouldn’t find. He was just thankful that it was so late in the night, making it nearly impossible for you to see anything below the surface; you weren’t like him, you didn’t have eyes unaffected by the dark.

 .

 “Well, it’s just…I thought that something touched my leg…”

 .

 Tamaki moved his tentacles as far away from you as he could, praying that the darkness would be enough to push aside your curiosity, but apparently, it was too late; your hands closed around two of his now squirming tentacles as he tried to pull them free of your hold.

 “Y-You…you’re a…” You breathed out in amazement, eyes wide as you stared at him and though it wasn’t in fear, Tamaki couldn’t take it. He wriggled his tentacles free of your grip and dove deep into the water; fearing what you would do now that you knew what he was.

 .

 “Wait!”

 .

 Tamaki ignored the muffled cry for him to stop, determined not to lose the strength it took to leave you behind instead of dragging you into the depths with him.

 Before Tamaki could get too far away however, he felt your hands close around his tentacles for the second time, causing him to freeze on the spot; heart thundering in his chest. He was already struggling to keep himself contained after having his tentacles grabbed the first time, but now it was too much; his tentacles were sensitive after all.

 Tamaki turned around in the water to look at you with a hunger that he had been pushing aside for far too long; using every last ounce of willpower he had left not to grab you and take you with him to his cave.

 The two of you remained submerged for a moment longer, staring at each other through the impossibly dark ocean water of the night. Tamaki knew you couldn’t see him, but your hold on his tentacles was enough to give you a direction to look at and like this, he had the rare opportunity to take in your breathtaking appearance; enjoying it as much as possible before wrapping some of his tentacles around your body and swimming for the surface.

 You were a human, which meant that you needed oxygen. A fact that he had nearly forgotten for a moment there, but either way; Tamaki wasn’t going to let you die. Not now, not when he could prevent it.

 “I’m not…I’m not gonna—” Tamaki motioned you to stop speaking as you tried to cough at the words, a suggestion that you decided to follow given that it was hard to regain your breath and speak at the same time. Given that Tamaki was no longer trying to swim away and that his tentacles were still wrapped around your body, keeping you afloat so that you didn’t have to put any effort into swimming yourself; you figured that you had time to catch your breath.

 “I was trying to say that I’m not going to turn you in. I was just…surprised, I guess” You rubbed at your neck as you explained yourself, your words making Tamaki’s stress melt away while thoughts of adoration towards you filled his mind.

 It was mind blowing to him that a human that had just discovered his secret wasn’t about to go running off telling everyone that merpeople existed and it certainly made him love you more than he already did.

 “Though, I am a little confused. I’ve heard those stories for years, listening to them as a little girl…how going out into the water at night is a terrible idea because monsters from the ocean will drag you beneath the water and steal you away” Tamaki grimaced as you giggled at the thought, clearly having no idea how close you had come to such a fate; even if the end result would have been different. Tamaki wouldn’t have hurt you, or eaten you alive like the old monsters of the ocean would have; no, he would have done so many different things to you. Things that would surely have you slap him if he dared to say them aloud to you.

 “Well, you know…don’t believe everything you hear I guess…” He managed to get a light-hearted chuckle out as he spoke, deciding that for the moment it would be better to keep you entrapped in his tentacles; mostly so that you couldn’t grab a hold of them again and push him into his instincts more than you already have.

 “I guess so, but I don’t know…you don’t seem so bad. Maybe having you steal me away wouldn’t be so terrible” Tamaki’s features twisted into unfiltered surprise at your giggled words, blood rushing through his ears and completely blocking out whatever it was that you were currently continuing on with.

 It seemed you managed to notice the faraway look in his eyes while his mind worked overtime to process your joke. Going as far as to reach out with your hand to brush your fingertips against his cheek, ripping him from his thoughts and dragging him back to reality; your eyes locking with his heated gaze the moment his attention was back on the present you instead of his fantasy version.

 “…You would let me steal you away?” He pulled your body closer to his with his tentacles as he spoke, the slippery limbs tightening their hold on you ever-so-slightly while you gulped nervously; unable to look away from the merman in front of you.

 “…I…yes, I guess so” You spoke softly, unsure words tasting foreign to your tongue but unregrettable all the same. There was a certain air of importance surrounding the spoken words and now you found yourself slowly beginning to sink into the water with a smiling Tamaki.

 It was amazing, how his eyes had lit up with joy at your uttered words. Though it made you think vaguely of the old fae stories, where your word was a binding contract and if that were to be held in the same regard with mer-people, then it seemed like you had agreed to a new way of life.

 .

 “You won’t regret it, I promise. I’ve got the perfect place in mind for you, you’ll be safe with me…I won’t let anyone steal you away…”

[angelguk]

what happens in this section is entirely a result of what guys voted please do not! come for my head in my inbox im begging. very sad in general like Angst with a capital A with a sprinkle of despair and pain. listen to mess it up by gracie abrams. roughly 2k.

(titled — out of line)

You thought Lucas would help, the warmth of his body a distraction from your aching heart, but he didn’t. Not the way you needed him to. He was sweet enough, made you giggle endlessly before finding his place between your thighs. But even with his tongue on your clit, your (now usually sober) mind still lingered on Jeongguk, his memory a stain on your soul. It didn’t help when you spotted him with a girl hanging off his arm, her bright eyes stuck on his face, soaking him in like the earth does the sun. You didn’t know her name – Chayoung took the liberty of whispering it to you after your biology lab. She was Hyeri, a sophomore with a delicate laugh and graceful disposition. That vile vindictive black thing that now inhabited your chest swelled, brain already comparing the differences between you and her. Your clumsiness suddenly felt like a curse, even though Jeongguk had countlessly said he loved you for it (or did he say that just to ease your worries?). Insecurities spring forth like weeds and you don’t have the capacity to keep the careful garden of your heart tended. 

They take over slowly, your eyes stinging whenever you see them huddled together in the quad. Bitter tears blinked back, your blinkered senses overlooking how Jeongguk’s quiet gaze followed your figure whenever you turned your back to him, even with Yoona yapping at his ears. 

Perhaps the despondency that clung to your bones is what led you here, face planted in the musky scent of Namjoon’s sheets, your heart throbbing funny. 

“Can you even breathe?” He questions. The timbre of his voice washes over you, familiar and somewhat reassuring. You twist upright to face him, eyes squeezing tight when the bright fluorescent lights in his room assaults your vision. 

“I was hoping my heart would give up if I held it in long enough.”

Namjoon stills, brown eyes flitting over you. He coughs like he’s working through various sets of words before he decides what’s most suitable. “And then what? I get framed for murder when they find your body here?”

You laugh, and it hurts. “Maybe. My body is very portable though, did you consider first burying me in the backyard?”

“Rookie mistake,” Namjoon returns. He rises to fetch the mugs of tea sitting idle on a stool he’d dragged from the corner of his room. “The sniffer dogs would fly straight to that location. Also, I’d have to dig a hole big enough to fit your head in.”

“And why would the dogs find me immediately?” You say, shuffling upright, palms ready to receive the tepid heat that will seep through the ceramic the moment the cup settles in your hand.

“Your perfume,” Namjoon says. He hands you the mug, heat fulfilling its chosen purpose, the scent of gentle jasmine wafting to your nose.

You pout then, glancing at him. “My perfume?”

“It’s distinct. Violet, right? Maybe vanilla too?” Namjoon says it easily, sinking beside you, utterly unaware of the ticking in your brain. Your gaze falters then, shifting to his broad shoulder and thick biceps. The ivy shirt he’s got on barely contains all that muscle in, fabric stretched thin. 

You take a sip of your tea, and despite the period Namjoon gave it to cool it still scalds your tongue. 

“Why do you know what fragrance I wear?” It comes out accusatory, but Namjoon handles it well, laughing low.

“You’ve had the same one since high-school, I think. And I remember you telling me.”

The fingers around your cup squeeze tight, your brain unlocking a moment you’d forgotten in the wake of brighter ones. A quiet afternoon at the back of your high-school, Namjoon towering over you, his nose trailing the hollow of your neck, a stray comment about how you smelled good washing over you. It was followed by a flustered younger version of you deflecting, heart pounding wild when Namjoon drew back to look at you as you rattled off the different sillages that made up your favourite perfume. He’d laughed, low like did just now, before calling you cute and pulling you in for a kiss. 

“Oh,” you finally murmur. “I remember now.”

You were actually going to change it after your break-up with him, but then Jeongguk had mentioned how much he’d liked it and the bottle had stayed.

Namjoon hums, his gaze slow as it shifts around the room. It’s a space that screams of him, light wood tones and plants breaking from the pristine white walls. Space carved for nature, a grounding sensation living within these four walls – something that seems to live inside of Namjoon too.

“How are you?” He suddenly asks, turning slowly to measure your features. 

You blink hard, only realising then that you’d been staring at his face for a second too long. “F-fine. I’m okay. Just busy, y’know. Finals coming up, planning events; the usual.”

“I know,” Namjoon says with a ginger smile. “But that’s not what I’m asking. How are you? With Jeongguk and everything.”

“Oh.” You can’t answer that, his unexpected brazenness shocking your system. The smile on his lips fades, a solemnness in the brown of his eyes. His next words are earnest, and they settle in the pit of your stomach.

“Y/N, I know you didn’t just come here to chat for no reason. We can talk about Jeongguk, that’s okay.”

“N-no, we don’t need it. We’re over. It’s been two months already. We’re seeing other people and I don’t really want to discuss one of my exes with another one. And maybe I did just come to see you,” you tack on an empty laugh at the end, hoping Namjoon doesn’t read right through you.

But he does. Like a part of you hoped he would.

“I’m your friend, you know. We had something but nothing like what you and Jeongguk have. Two months isn’t going to make a lifetime disappear. It’s okay if you still feel bad.”

That’s what cracks you, a well-aimed hammer knocking your walls right down. You bite your lip hard, fingertips pinching the ceramic in your grasp, and swallow the tears looming in your throat with a choked laugh. 

“I’m fine, Namjoon. I feel a little like shit but I’m working on it. And Lucas is a great guy–”

“But he’s not Jeongguk.” The sentence feels heavy as if it carries the weight of many hearts on it. But it’s also a line you were thinking about earlier, even with Lucas pressed against you.

“That’s not what I would say–”

“But it’s what you were thinking,” Namjoon cuts. Maybe there’s a peephole in your head that only Namjoon has access to. “And that’s fine. It sucks for Lucas, though. But you shouldn’t feel bad for thinking that way. Especially when you know how special Jeongguk is to you.”

Special. The word is bright, glimmering like Jeongguk’s eyes do. 

“I-I just–it just–I don’t know.” The tears you’d attempted to seal inside burst, slipping down your cheeks quiet. Namjoon pry's the mug from your hand, replaces its warmth with his own, and for a split second things feel bearable. 

“Hey, hey,” he murmurs, a calloused palm on your damp cheek, his steadiness clearing away the gloomy skies in your head. But he doesn’t tell you to stop crying, doesn’t whisper that it’ll be okay. He just tugs you closer, rests your splinting head on his wide chest, and soaks up the tears on your face with his shirt. Like the earth does for the pouring heavens. 

You eventually hiccup the despair down, finding the words to explain to Namjoon what you were feeling in between the moments where breathing didn’t feel like a race. He takes the news of Jeongguk kissing somebody days after your break-up with wide eyes, his eyebrows drawing together. And then comes the second girl, you don’t even know her name but it still cleaves something out of you. And finally, Hyeri. Her name is a lament.

“And it sucks because he looks happy with her and I still want him to be happy because I still love him. I love him so much it hurts.”

Namjoon cocks his head then, his wide palm sliding down your back. “You think Jeongguk looks happy?”

“Yes?” But it’s a question, your upward gaze on his face imploring.

Namjoon shakes his head instead. You don’t hear it, the following words a deep muffled murmur, “Both of you are idiots.” But you see the twinkle in his eyes and it makes your back straighten.  

You want to pester but Namjoon pulls you closer, and you lose yourself in the feeling of him, before a question can register on your tongue. His arms are huge, like sturdy branches defying the blistering gales of your heart. He lets you cry for a little longer, listening intently to the continuing spew of words from your lips, until the storm quiets into a breeze. 

“Okay?” Namjoon asks.

You stick your head further into his chest, breathe him in deep. “Okay.”

When he shifts away your skin freezes, but then you realise he’s reaching for a blanket. He swathes it around you fondly, pulling you in for a swift hug before falling out of your reach once more. 

“Now, I think we both need a moment to process that.” He’s talking about but you’re not listening, your eyes on his face, gaze gently trailing the curve of his lips. “I also think we need food before we start unpacking the mess you’re in–”

You swallow the sentence with your lips, salt singeing the corners of your mouth. But your movements are not reciprocated, Namjoon’s mouth is still under yours. The soft hand on your neck guiding you away is what pulls you back, right out of that strange dark desperate ocean that held you. 

“Y/N–”

“Sorry, shit–shit, I shouldn’t have done that.” But there’s no use now, you can’t take it back. Namjoon is looking at you with those eyes, the ones that feel like pity. His sympathy suddenly makes you feel sick, and you wish the ceiling would give away and shatter your head. “I should go.” 

He tries to stop you, firm but gentle with his words and hands. But you’re a wild storm again and nothing can stop you from snatching your butterfly tote bag from the floor of his room and fleeing. The black thing that had been subdued for a moment reemergence with vengeance the second you hit the sidewalks, vision reeling. How could you do that? To Namjoon? To the stable friendship you'd created? But he felt too warm, too caring, too much of everything that you longing for and that Lucas could never give you.

Just a reminder of the swimmer's name as you skidding to a halt, the thump in your chest vicious. Maybe Jeongguk was right. Constantly painting yourself the victim while actively hurting the ones around you. Maybe you should have never let him kiss you again on that rooftop. Maybe you should have never tried to love him.

—

It’s silent in your head when you get back to your apartment. Sieun is home, finally back from her trip to her boyfriend’s parents place, so you’re not surprised to hear the soft hum of laughter filtering through the house. You don’t expect to find Chayoung there though. 

They’re huddling in the kitchen, drifting out cheery greetings when you trudge it, only to fall silent when you mumble back a hollow response. A gentle song floating from the radio fills the empty space, three bodies navigating something tense.  

“Were you with Lucas?” Sieun eventually pokes. She’s not a big fan of him. She’s not a big fan of the current break-up between you and Jeongguk either. She’s going to hate you for what you’re about to tell her.

“No,” you mumble. There are twenty notifications flashing across your phone screen, all from Namjoon. You feel sick, and you might cry again.

“Well? What’s with the long face?” Chayoung adds. 

You take a deep breath, gripping the marble counter tight before twisting around. Better to rip it off all at once right? And there’s no way you could hold this inside of you, not when there is barely any room for your broken heart.

“I kissed Namjoon.”

“WHAT?” Sieun’s jaw slams into the ground and Chayoung freezes beside her, like her joints have suddenly been welded together. They stare at you for long you might have grown a second head during it. And then the questions come, a torrent erupting. You blank for a second, and then the guilt crawls up your spine. It may only be thirteen past five in the afternoon but you definitely need a drink.

[titan-fodder]

Prima Vista Part III

[ previous ]

Rating: E (explicit; mdni) Pairing: Mike Zacharias x fem!reader

Warnings: a lot of feelings, handcuffs, testosterone, quite a bit of sex, one surprise kiss (cause Erwin is a privileged dick), parents, domesticity A/N: I apparently did not write an author’s note for this originally, but uh, this is one of my favorite sections of the whole fic, so. 

Mike uses the rest of the break to relax, to get his head on straight so that when he gets back on campus he won’t be overbearing. He knows that’s the last thing you want from him.

 You text back and forth a few times a day, but most of it is dumb shit, and the conversation dies off pretty quickly—either Mike not knowing how to respond or you just growing bored. 

 He busies himself by spending time with his parents and playing with Scout who eats up all the attention. Family comes over for Christmas, and his mom and aunt get into an argument. It’s nothing new.

 He’s happy to get back to the school and back in classes just to stimulate his brain. More than that, he’s happy to see you again. Even if it means the two of you go back to friend-only status. 

 Things are awkward between him and Erwin, though. It isn’t the first time they’ve had a hiccup in their friendship, but this one has really rubbed Mike the wrong way. Erwin tries to apologize a few more times, but every time he does, all Mike can manage is an unconvincing, “It’s fine,” which the other man obviously doesn’t buy. 

 He tries not to be possessive when you start coming to the house again, but it’s fucking hard whenever he has to watch you and Erwin talk and joke around. Mike figured you’d be at least a little annoyed that he’d just walked in on the two of you like that, but you act like it never happened.

 Eventually, Mike has to ask about it, just can’t help himself. “Aren’t you, like, even a little mad that he did that? Don’t you think it was fucked up?”

 You’re sitting on Mike’s bed, a controller in your hand as you play Mario Kart, sound a little distracted when you respond, “I mean, yeah, it was fucked up, but I never really expected anything more from him.”

 “What do you mean?”

 You look at him from the corner of your eyes before staring at the screen again. “Erwin is a cocky motherfucker. I’ve seen the way he gets the girls on campus, probably thinks he can charm all of them which means he probably thinks he’s entitled to all of them. Us.”

 “Are you calling him a predator?”

 You shrug your shoulders. “I don’t think he’d ever, like, rape anyone. He at least has enough class and common sense not to do that. But I think… He doesn’t care who he goes after. Single girls, girls in relationships, happy girls, damaged girls. He just has a one track mind when it comes to sex. That’s what I’ve gathered anyway.”

 Laying back on his bed, Mike laces his fingers behind his head and thinks on what you’ve said. “That just sounds like a drawn out way of saying he’s a flirt.”

 “A massive flirt. Without any real care about whose feelings he hurts in the process.”

 “Sounds about right.”

 “I don’t appreciate it,” you sigh, “But he’s your best friend, so I’m willing to put up with some shit from him.”

 “Even him perving on you?”

 “Not the first time it’s happened to me, probably won’t be the last. He’s curious, I can tell.”

 Mike snorts and rolls his eyes. “Yeah, he is.”

 You stay quiet for several seconds, toggling over to another track on the game, then ask, “That make you uncomfortable?”

 Blinking up at the ceiling, Mike wonders what the right answer to this is. He doesn’t want to scare you away, but he doubts he’ll be able to act as aloof as you do. 

 “A little.”

 You hum, nodding in a thoughtful manner before suggesting, “I think we can keep hooking up through this semester.”

 Mike sits up on his elbow, looks at you with high eyebrows. “Wait, really?” He sounds too excited, he knows.

 “Yeah. I have mostly easy classes, or really, I have interesting ones which makes studying for them easier. Plus, it might teach Erwin a lesson.”

 He falls back flat, scoffing. “I don’t want you to fuck me to prove a point to Erwin. I want you to fuck me because you want to.”

 The game music stops when you pause it, and then you’re straddling Mike, hands on his chest as you smirk at him. 

 “Don’t let this go to your head, Zacharias, but no one has ever fucked me the way you do.”

 Mike tries not to grin, triumph blooming inside of him, and he grips your hips a little too tightly. “Oh, that’s definitely going to my head.” 

 You grind your covered pussy over his denim-clad cock, and Mike feels all his blood flow south.

 Laughing, you lean down to ghost your lips over his and murmur, “Both heads, apparently.”

 That day, the two of you start a routine that leaves Mike falling harder and harder with every passing day.

 *

 “Come on, please just be my date,” Mike begs, thinks about getting to his knees if it’ll help convince you.

 “Why?” You ask, looking up from your textbook.

 You and Mike are sitting in the library—you studying, him bothering you. “I’m honestly so tired of parties at this point.

 “It’s not like the big parties we throw, though,” he tells you. “It’s just the brothers and their girlfriends.”

 “That makes it even worse,” you push one little laugh through your nose. “What makes you think I wanna spend an entire night with a bunch of frat boys and their matching sorority girls?”

 Mike rolls his eyes. “They’re not all sorority girls, just like, eighty-five percent of them.”

 Your head lolls, an expression that reads nothing but apathy aimed at Mike, and he gives you a hopeful smile and adds, “On the bright side, we get to stay together all night…?”

 “Oh god, it's a cuff party, isn't it?" 

 All he can do at this point is beg because the more he explains it, the more he realizes how not appealing this is to you. “Please.”

 Sitting back in your chair, you cross your arms over your chest and puff your cheeks out as you exhale heavily. “What’s in it for me?”

 Fuck yes. Half the battle is won. 

 “Uhh,” obviously sex is the first thing that comes to Mike’s mind, so the first offer he makes is, “I’ll go down on you ‘til you cry.”

 You snort. “Try again.”

 “Fuck you ‘til you pass out?”

 “Jesus—why do you want to hurt me? Try again. Third time’s a charm.”

 Mike brainstorms for a solid thirty seconds, thinks about what you’ve mentioned to him over the past couple of weeks, sex and school and—

 “I’ll help you study for your geochemistry exam.”

 You finally look interested. “I’d actually really appreciate that. You took the course?”

 “Yeah, environmental geochemistry was sort of my jam last year. Final grade was a ninety-seven.”

 “Holy shit.”

 Mike shoots you a satisfied smile, but before you can tell him to wipe it from his face, he asks, “So, you’re in?”

 “I guess.”

 This is how you both end up in the frat house handcuffed together. No one seems to be surprised at the fact that you’ve come with him, all the brothers used to you hanging around the frat house.

 Most couples are walking around holding hands just because it takes some of the pressure off of everyone's wrists, but Mike doesn't dare try it with you. Too cute. Too comfortable. 

 These types of get togethers are Mike's favorite, though, always more relaxed than the open parties. There’s still drinking and music, but the energy is different since it’s a tighter knit group. 

 It takes about an hour for Erwin and his date to approach the two of you, fingers laced together, drinks in their free hands. 

 “Looking good,” Erwin greets with a smile. "Very… trapped." 

 “Yeah, you too,” Mike says, trying to ignore the subtext of Erwin's comment.  

 Blue eyes flick to you, and you’re questioned, “How’d he end up talking you into this?”

 You don’t miss a beat as you reply cooly, “Bribed me with sex and study help.”

 “Ah, of course he did.”

 Mike’s eyes narrow, but he doesn’t say anything, just reaches his pinky out to link with yours, a subtle claim. When you rest your head on his arm, he looks down at you and smirks. 

 “Anyway,” Erwin pushes on. “You remember Maddie, don’t you?”

 Mike lies, “Yeah. How are you?”

 The girl’s voice reminds him of who she is, “Well. How are you, Mike?” It’s a little high pitched and nasally with a northern accent. He especially remembers what she sounded like moaning for Erwin through the wall, obnoxious but Mike can’t really judge since he’s subjected the rest of the house to the same thing once or twice (or a dozen times) before.  

 “Glad to hear it.”

 The group stands together for a few more awkward seconds before Erwin clears his throat and asks his date, “Another drink?” then makes his exit. 

 “You have got to get over this grudge, dude,” you take your head from his shoulder, and Mike immediately misses the warmth. “Like, it’s cute that you’re trying to defend my honor or whatever, but it’s time to move on. You guys are friends. Just talk it out.”

 He sucks his teeth, almost tells you about the way he and Erwin had nearly thrown punches at the ranch house, the way the blond had basically admitted to wanting to try you out, but Mike decides against it, doesn’t want to talk too much shit only to end up making up with him.

 “Guys don’t really talk it out. We usually fight it out.”

 “That’s fucking primitive. You should learn to communicate like mature humans.”

 “Probably,” Mike hums. “But not right now.”

 Being connected to each other means every activity is a partner activity. The most interesting is playing beer pong against Nile and his on-again off-again girlfriend, Marie, house rule for the night being whoever is throwing has to use their cuffed hand. It’s like a twisted three-legged race and requires an amount of teamwork and coordination Mike has never had to deal with before. 

 It’s also the first time he manages to beat Nile. Mike had no doubt that the other man would have crushed you by himself, but it turns out the actual couple does not work together very well. All their shots are clumsy, and Nile gets frustrated right off the bat which only makes things worse. Meanwhile, you and Mike come up with a strategy after the first terrible throw and use it for the rest of the game. 

 You’re both challenged by a few other teams and end up winning every time which has Mike feeling smug about the victories and giddy at how in-tune the two of you are. Gelgar even tells you both, “You guys are good together,” which makes Mike cough as you wave him off.

 You drink a little more, converse a little more, and then—as always—end up in Mike’s bedroom. 

 “You want me to get the key and take these off?” He asks between kisses.

 You smile into him, let out a little laugh and play, “You don’t think it’d be kinda fun to fuck with ‘em on?”

 “It’ll be harder,” Mike snorts. “But, we can. Won’t be able to take shirts off, though.”

 “Good thing we just need to take our pants off.”

 It’s clumsy and silly, and you both tug in opposite directions more than a few times. Mike laces his fingers with yours when he goes down on you, relishing in the way you arch off his bed and squeeze his hand. On the floor, you give him head in the same fashion, and fuck, Mike can hardly focus on you sucking him off while your fingers are woven together, even if it is just for the sake of convenience. 

 He fucks you from behind that night, your face buried in his pillow as he’s buried in you. Both of your arms are stretched behind your back, held at the wrists by Mike’s much, much larger hand. He uses his free one to grip your hip, pushing and pulling you on his cock to his heart’s desire. 

 You’re so pretty, damp with sweat and moaning his name when your head is turned only to shove it back into his pillow when he makes you scream. Your dripping cunt opens up for him perfectly, making Mike feel more inebriated than alcohol ever could, but as his balls tighten and that warmth spreads in his gut, he has a single moment of clarity, assess the position he has you in and pants, “Shit, I can’t pull out.” Not without ripping your god damn arm out of socket or fracturing his dick. 

 “Mmm—fuck, just come inside, come inside me, Mike.”

 That alone makes him lose it, shooting a fucking copious amount of cum into your pussy, so much that it drips from your hole and runs down your thighs. 

 “Fucking C-Christ,” he laughs a little hysterically, gathering thick white and slipping it back inside you. Transfixed by the way his added finger pushes more of his cum out of you, he asks in a daze, “You on birth control?”

 “Yeah,” you answer in a breathy voice.

 Mike hums. “Good. Just gonna sit here for a while then.”

 You let out a whimper that turns to a whine when he rubs his slick finger over your clit. Twitching around him, you tease, “F-finger painting again?”

 He chuckles, “You know it.” 

 Honestly, if he could cover you in cum, he would—admire your body painted in white strings, watch it drip down your ribs and thighs. If Mike hadn’t just gotten off, he would be hard again at the mere thought, but for now his focus is rubbing your little clit. Still face down, you spread your legs more and more, and Mike has to curl over you, breathing heavily on your neck as you wriggle and buck, overstimulating him as he keeps his cock nestled inside of you.

 He groans just as loud as you do as you start pulsing around him, pussy clenching in a way that actually pulls a few more drops of cum from Mike, then you both pant for a little while until Mike straightens up and pulls you with him, your back to his chest as you hang your head. 

 “You good?” He questions, brushing his lips over your neck as lightly as possible.

 “Yeah,” you tell him. “Just… Full.”

 Mike’s body heats all over again as he rests his forehead on your uppermost vertebrae. “Can’t just say stuff like that,” he warns, sinking his teeth into your shoulder.

 “Hmm.” He can see the little smile on your face without even looking up. “You did offer to fuck me until I pass out.”

 “I have a refractory period, you know.”

 You glance over your shoulder, and now Mike gets a good look at your smirk and twinkling eyes. “I can wait.”

 Both of you emerge from the room in the early hours of the morning, still stuck together as you quietly make your way downstairs to find the key to the handcuffs. You’re wearing a pair of Mike’s gym shorts, the mesh falling far past your knees and barely staying up around your waist. He knows you’re still messy and can tell by the way you’re walking that you’re sore, but he has every intention of cleaning you up and taking care of all your aches and pains in the shower. 

 *

It’s party after god damn party with classes and studying and fucking in between. You have never had this much sex in your life, but you’re not complaining. It takes the edge off, and Mike isn’t the worst company. Far from it, actually. The more you get to know him, the more he falls into what you think is his real personality. 

 The brash frat boy is a front, you come to find out, a mask to fit in with everyone else, one he wears very well. 

 But, when it’s just the two of you in his room playing video games or watching TV, he actually relaxes, gets quieter and much more reflective. The pastels and khakis and Hawaiian shirts stay hung up in his closet, both of you lounging in t-shirts and joggers more often than not.

 He more or less tutors you in geochemistry, and between that and all the nerd shit in his room, you realize… Mike is kind of extremely smart. And, it’s kind of extremely hot.

 “I still don’t understand why you hide it,” you tell him one afternoon as you watch him play Ocarina of Time. 

 He shrugs, green eyes wide and focused on the screen, gives you the same answer he did last semester when you’d asked a similar question: “People are more interested in other things.”

 “So you adopted the obnoxious frat boy persona?”

 “I guess. It makes the college experience a lot easier.”

 You cock your head to the side, genuinely curious when you ask, “Doesn’t it wear you out? Seems like you’re just an introvert in hiding.”

 Mike laughs, pauses the game, and looks at you. “It used to. Some days it still does. But, it’s easier than taking shit from the guys.”

 Squinting at him, you mumble, “I will beat up anyone who gives you shit about being a nerd.”

 It makes him laugh. Loudly. And, you see a certain curiosity glimmering in his eyes, unasked questions—probably something along the lines of when you started caring and getting protective over him. 

 You’re not. Not exactly. You just don’t like the idea of anyone giving him a hard time. 

 “No offense, babe, but I don’t know how much damage you could inflict on anyone. You’re, like, two feet tall.”

 You straighten up, chest puffing up as you pull your fists up to your chin and rock back and forth like a Street Fighter character. “You wanna fuckin’ go, Zacharias? I’ll show you how much damage I can inflict.”

 He grins in that boyish way that always makes you look away. It’s too cute and too charming and makes you feel too many things. 

 Mike hangs his long legs over the side of the bed and pulls you on top of him with no problem whatsoever. You’re eye level with him now, heart beating too fast as you hold his shoulders, eyes flicking to his lips. 

 “We can go if you want. We can do whatever you want.”

 He has feelings for you. You know he does, can see it in his eyes, can feel it in the way he fucks you, and you really should cut things off, but… You don’t want to. He’s the most tolerable person you’ve met on campus, much less annoying than Hitch. You have things in common and joke around until you’re both rolling in laughter. And, of course, the sex is incredible. 

 It’s just casual, you keep telling yourself. Mike is smart enough not to push things. He knows better, knows you’ll just turn him down, and though it’s hard to admit, that wouldn’t just hurt him; it’d hurt you too.

 In his lap now, you don’t encourage him to take things further, mostly because you’re still sore from the night before, and he understands that. Instead, you lock your arms around his neck and change the subject to something that’s still bothering you even after several weeks.

 “Have you and Erwin made up yet?”

 Mike makes a face, answers, “Not exactly.”

 “The hell does that mean?”

 “It means we’re talking a little more, but it’s always short conversations and the problem still hasn’t been addressed.”

 You let out a little, “Ugh,” then state, “You guys are impossible.”

 It really doesn’t make sense that he’s so upset about it, especially since you’ve gotten over it. It was a shitty thing for Erwin to do—walking in like that—but you don’t think it’s anything to end a friendship over.

 And, with that thought in mind, you spend the rest of the afternoon devising a plan. It’s not in your nature to meddle, but it seems, in this case, you’re gonna have to.

 *

 Mike is in his fancy ecology class when you walk into the Pike house, nodding at everyone in the den as you step further inside. You learned a few months ago that it’s much safer to keep your shoes on, less jarring to step on a sticky floor the first years didn’t do a good job cleaning. 

 Nile is reclining sideways on the couch with Marie between his legs, an action movie playing on the ridiculously big TV mounted on the wall. 

 “Is Erwin here?” You ask.

 Nile looks at you with a frown, one that’s completely warranted since you’ve literally never asked this before. 

 “Uh, yeah.” He points up at the ceiling. “In his room.”

 “Cool, thanks.”

 “You know which one it is?”

 Squeezing one eye shut, you’re honest when you tell him, “I think so.”

 The way Marie is quick to pipe up, “Second furthest to the left, right next to the bathroom,” is very amusing, especially when Nile clicks his tongue, clearly irritated.

 You make your way upstairs, following Marie’s directions, then take a deep breath before knocking on Erwin’s door, clueless as to what his lock code might be.

 It takes a few seconds, but the door opens, revealing a very tired-looking Erwin. His eyes widen a bit when he sees you, craning his neck back like he’s shocked that you’re standing outside of his room. That’s fair.

 “Uh, hey?”

 “Hey,” you greet shortly. “Can we talk for a sec?”

 Erwin blinks a few times then steps to the side, murmuring, “Yeah, of course.”

 His space is very different from Mike’s, more organized, framed pictures, bed completely made. Even his desk is clean, papers and books all stacked neatly on one side of his open laptop.

 “Studying?” You question.

 “Yeah. Would you like to sit down?” His voice is deep—not as deep as Mike’s—and always so proper, like he spent his childhood in country clubs (he did). 

 “Not really,” you answer without any hesitation.

 Unsurprisingly, Erwin leans against his desk instead of taking a seat himself, arms on either side, fingers hanging off the edge of the polished wood. It makes the muscles in his forearms become more prominent, veins popping against his skin. You have to give it to him, it’s a good move. 

 “So, what’s going on?”

 Running your tongue over your teeth, you recall what you planned to say—cut to the chase, stay firm, don’t get caught up in any of his tricks. 

 “You need to make up with Mike.”

 Erwin immediately snorts. “You don’t think I’ve tried?”

 “Half-assed apologies aren’t gonna work, dude. Actually sit down with him and hash things out.”

 “Yeeeah,” he drawls. “That didn’t work very well the first time.”

 “Maybe try again? You guys are, like, best friends.”

 “Levi is my best friend,” Erwin corrects, “And, I’m pretty sure that you’re Mike’s at this point.”

 “Don’t say that.”

 “It’s true,” he smirks.

 You wave him off, getting back to your original point. “At the very least, you guys should make up just because you have to live in the same house.”

 Erwin crosses his arms over his chest, blue eyes deviating upward as if he’s thinking hard. You doubt he is.

 “So, you’re not mad about what happened?” He asks after a few seconds. 

 You're blunt when you respond, “It was a shitty thing to do. Wouldn’t advise trying it with anyone else, but honestly, I’m not super surprised you’d pull something like that.”

 His facial expression turns to one of true offense, blond eyebrows furrowing enough for a little wrinkle to form between them. “Excuse me?”

 You take a step toward him, almost jab a finger in his chest but resist. “No no no. You don’t get to be pissed. You’re the one who fucked up here. I’m just telling you the truth.”

 Eyes narrowing, he pushes himself off the desk, standing to his full height to loom over you. It’s obviously an intimidation tactic, one he’s probably used before on many people, and it makes your blood boil. 

 In a futile attempt to make yourself look bigger, you straighten your spine and tilt your head to look up at him, lips pursed, eyes narrow. You remember what Mike said about you being too small to hurt anyone, but you can be scrappy. You’re not above slapping a face or kneeing someone in the balls. 

 Erwin peers down at you, jaw setting for a moment as he really studies you, then breaks into an infuriating smile. 

 “You’re cute, you know that?” He moves to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, but you swat his hand away. 

 “Jesus, what is wrong with you?”

 This close to him, seeing the way he acts behind closed doors, you wonder how Mike ever even got close with him. They’re so incredibly different. For the last semester and a half, you've only known Erwin as Mike's somewhat obnoxious, spoiled friend. Now, it seems he's showing his true colors.

 “Nothing’s wrong. In fact, I’m feeling pretty great right now.”

 Oh, you wanna hit him. You wanna hit him so badly, but honestly, Erwin kind of seems like the type to call the fucking police if you did. 

 “You don’t have any reason whatsoever to be feeling good.”

 He’s still grinning, eyes bright and wide as his pupils dilate. 

 Are you calling him a predator?

 He sure looks like one now, a lion with his sights set on an antelope, and as you stare at him, it dawns on you that this was a bad idea. 

 “You know what? Nevermind,” you shake your head. “You don’t deserve to be Mike’s friend anyway.”

 The laugh that pours from his lips is not at all humorous. His voice drops when he challenges, “You think so?”

 You need to leave, need to get out of here before this argument goes any further, but as you make a move toward the closed door, he slides in front of you. You shouldn’t have walked so far into his room.

 “Erwin,” you grit through your teeth. “Don’t do this.”

 “Just tell me—because I need to know—” he breathes, still staring down at you with that unnerving gaze. “What does Mike have that you like so much?”

 Both your hands flex by your sides. There are so many ways to answer this question, all of which will evoke a different response. 

 But being who you are, you speak before you think, spitting the first thing that comes to mind: "You want me to make you a list, Smith? 'Cause I sure fucking can."

 He makes a little circle with his hand, a 'go on' motion, and prompts, "Please, enlighten me."

 And, so you do. 

 "Warmth, sincerity, class, depth, understanding—"

 "So, it isn't just about the sex," he cuts you off, sounding more sure than curious. 

 You pinch the bridge of your nose, tired of these god damn frat boys and their obsession with getting their dicks wet.  

 "I mean, it started out that way—not that it's any of your business."

 "I can give you more, you know. Satisfy you better—"

 "Please shut the fuck up," you beg, getting madder by the second. The confidence, the entitlement, is making you sick. 

 "You don't believe me?" He steps toward you again, and you back up. 

 "No, I don't." Because how could he? Whether it's stimulating conversation or sex, there's no way Erwin could compare. 

 And now you realize just how much you appreciate Mike. 

 Erwin is closing the distance between you, moving slowly but purposefully. "This is how it started with you and him, right? You made him chase you?" 

 "Get out of my way," you demand, trying to shoulder past him—

 And, you should have seen it coming, should have been prepared for the way he grabs you, strong hand closing around your upper arm to pull you to his body. Thick fingers tangle in your hair to pull your head back, face tilted up, and all you can really do is shove at his chest with your free hand, growling in your throat as Erwin crushes his lips against yours. 

 Adrenaline courses through your body. You try to shake the hand on your head, try to jerk your arm from his grip, but he's too fucking strong, and it terrifies you. 

 Your voice is muffled as you plead, "Er—mmf—shtp—"

 You lift your hand higher and manage to hit him just beside his eye with the side of your palm, and it makes him break the "kiss" (you refuse to actually call it that).

 He breathes a heavy, "Just let me—"

 "No." You push his chest again, and he lets go of your arm. Quickly wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, you tell him, "You're a shitty friend and a little fucked in the head, but you're not low enough to force yourself on someone," you pant, shaking with nerves and rage, "So don't."

 Hopefully, you're not giving him too much credit. Despite the overflowing fury and fear, you still think there's a little hope for him. Not with you, of course, just in general.

 He stares at you, expression changing from confusion to understanding to regret, and before you know it, he's scrubbing his hands down his face and muttering, "Fuck, I'm sorry. You're right I—I got carried away. I've been jealous of Mike and curious and—"

 "Why?" You blurt because you do not get it. "Both of you are, like, top athletes and in a fraternity, could get literally anyone you wanted, so what is it? Is it because I'm a nobody? Because you're bored of the sorority girls? Am I the one chick on your list you haven't screwed?" 

 "I… I don't know. You just—"

 "Is it because Mike has a toy he doesn't wanna share?"

 "Maybe." Erwin is frowning again, like he's stumped. He doesn't even know what he's feeling. It's honestly a little pathetic. 

 "Well, pick someone else. I know you have Maddie wrapped around your finger, so take advantage of that or whatever. Just leave me out of it."

 Ocean eyes are wide and troubled. He really does look remorseful, but that doesn't change what he just fucking did. God, you're disgusted. And a little hurt. 

 "Don't ever try that shit on me again—or anyone else—'cause I swear to God, I will break your fucking nose."

 "Yeah, okay," he nods.

 You go to walk past him again, voice loud and unforgiving when you tell him, "Move," and then you're out of his room, slamming the door, and getting as far from Pike house as possible.

 That did not go the way you had planned it to, but you should have been ready for the worst case scenario. That's on you, you guess. 

 Because Erwin Smith may not be a predator by definition, but he's certainly something—something you want to stay away from. 

*

"Why are you acting weird?" Mike's voice pulls you from your empty head, and you take your eyes off the loose string of your hoodie—his hoodie—and look up at him. 

 "What are you talking about? 'm not acting weird."

 He moves from his place at the edge of his bed and crawls to prop himself up next to you on his pillows. 

 "Uh, yeah you are. Have been for the past week or so."

 He isn't wrong. You've kept to yourself a little more since your "conversation" with Erwin. It had just been so uncomfortable and jarring, and you don't want to tell Mike because you know he'll just get pissed all over again which would be very annoying since he and Erwin finally made up. Just like you wanted them to. 

 Except now you know Erwin a little better, and you're not sure you want him having any more influence over Mike. 

 Rubbing your face, you shrug and easily lie, "I've just been tired."

 And, of course, Mike is too smart for that. 

 "Tired? That's the go-to answer for anyone who actually feels shitty."

 "I mean, yeah, but I'm actually tired in this case." It isn't a complete lie considering how fucking late he kept you up last night. 

 Mike hums. "Wanna take a nap before the party?" 

 The acid in your stomach churns. The party. The one you do not have any desire to go to. The one that will push you over the ledge of annoyance and into the realm of genuine discomfort. You don't want to go. You don't want to hang out. You don't want to see Erwin. 

 Sliding your legs under the covers, you lay down in Mike's bed, turning on your side so that your back is facing him. You've told him on numerous occasions that you don't have any interest in certain events, but he always talks you into going to them anyway. So, what'll be different this time? You're just gonna end up downstairs huddled in a corner refusing to drink as your eyes scan over everyone, ready to make a quick exit if you have to. 

 Mike settles in closer behind you, the heat of his chest pouring across your back, and you can feel the pillow dip when he rests his head on it. He waits for a while before letting his arm fall over your waist. It makes you squeeze your eyes shut, makes something crawl into your throat, trying to scratch its way out. 

 "I really don't wanna go tonight," you murmur.

 You expect some form of protest, a convincing argument in the form of a well thought out fucking speech while he kisses down the back of your neck, but instead, a low rumble of, "Okay," spills from his mouth, and you hate how it makes you feel—how grateful you are for him. 

 He's getting to know you. Has gotten to know you after spending so much time together. He can read your ups and downs now, can tell when you're joking or serious, take the hint when you want him with a single look (that one might be the most irritating), but it just goes to show how perceptive he is, how much of himself he's been hiding while in college. 

 The shallow jock you thought you knew is no comparison for this. 

 "Spring break's coming up," he speaks into your hair, inhaling deeply and whispering to himself, "Citrus kills me," like you can't hear him. 

 You pretend not to because it's soft and personal and would probably make him adorably self-conscious, and you can't deal with Mike blushing. 

  "Yeah, it is. Couple more weeks." 

 "What're your plans?" 

 You shrug against him, trying not to get too wrapped up in the way his body feels over yours, longer legs tangling between yours, his draped hand nearly covering your entire stomach, his stubble scratching your neck and cheek. 

 When did you get this close? When did you decide it was okay to be this intimate? This is what couples do. This is comfort. 

 And, you didn't think you needed it, but fuck—

 "Nothing, really. Go see Mom, I guess."

 "Come stay with me," he says quickly. "Just for a few days."

 You wriggle to turn on your back and frown up at him as a myriad of questions fill your mind. 

 Mike takes a deep breath, somehow reading every one of them. 

 "I know that sounds like a 'come meet my parents' thing, but I promise it's not. I just thought it'd be cool to hang out not at school and not at a party. Plus," he shows a broad grin. "You can meet Scout."

 "Mm, tempting," you laugh. "I do like dogs."

 "And, you'll love her! She's so sweet and so goofy and—"

 "I'll think about it," you stop him. 

 Mike bites his lip, looking hopeful, but tries to play it off with a, "Okay, cool," then leans down to kiss you as if you've already said yes. 

 Honestly, you have, just not out loud. He had you at 'hanging out'. 

 *

Studying sucks. Midterms suck. Avoiding parties, however, does not suck. Mike still goes to most of them, kind of has to considering they're usually thrown at the PKA house, but sometimes he just shows his face then comes to your dorm. You try to convince him to stay, hang out with his friends, but he usually just shrugs and digs through your stash of movies until he finds something he wants to watch. 

 It's fine with you, makes passing geochem a lot fucking easier, but it also means little sleep and a perpetual soreness between your legs. 

 You just… Can't get enough of each other. And, you think that's how it's always been since that first party. Afterward, you had denied him in the courtyard and then broke as soon as he got into your room to get his stupid shirt. Denied him at the bar then broke as soon as he leaned over you at the pool table. Denied him at the after-game party and broke after… Seeing his room? Watching movies? Acting like friends for the first time? Whatever it is, you're always falling into bed together, some kind of unstoppable force against your obviously very movable object. 

 It's something you think about too much now, always somewhere in the back of your head. At this point, you should probably just be with him, don't know who you're kidding with that lie about focusing on school (your grades have never been better actually), but you're scared. That's really what's been hard to admit to yourself, not the fact that you're attracted to him or the fact that your irritation has bloomed into genuine fondness and admiration. It's that's you're fucking terrified. You can feel it in your bones. 

 Don't get too attached because people leave. All the time. People let you down. People disappoint. 

 You don't want Mike to disappoint you, so you won't give him the chance to. 

 Of course, all of that is easier said than done as you look over at him in the Wrangler, one huge hand pn the wheel as his other arm hangs out of the open window, catching the wind that batters against it like he's trying to push back. You hate it when he does that, too many horror stories of car crashes that end in traumatic amputations, but it's one of Mike's strange simple pleasures, makes him grin as if it's his head hanging out instead. At his core, Mike Zacharias is just a huge fucking puppy dog. 

 A dubstep song from too long ago is blasting through his speakers, the vibrations hitting you square in the chest as you bounce your leg and bob your head. It's beautiful outside, winter's bite melting away into sunny springtime days. Some of them still bring a chill to the air, but it doesn't matter since you basically live in one of Mike's hoodies, dark green with the school's lacrosse logo stamped in the middle. It's faded and worn out and far too big on you, but it's quite possibly the most comfortable article of clothing you've acquired. 

 The drive to his parents' house is a good three hours, but between the playlist he's made (stellar, not that you'd admit it), the road games you play, and the road head you give him ("Oh, Jesus Christ, this isn't safe—this isn't safe—fuck—") you make it there in one piece and in good spirits, though you have take a few drinks of the soda you got at the convenience store to wash the residue of cum out of your mouth before meeting his god damn family. 

 He grabs both your bags from the backseat, slinging them over his shoulders, then starts up the path to a… surprisingly small home. It isn't a shack by any means, but after what you saw of Erwin's stupid ranch house and some of the pictures and stories Nile and Gelgar have subjected you to, you just kind of figured all of them had ridiculous amounts of money. 

 Then again, you know Mike got a full ride to college with a sports scholarship, and he rarely talks about his family and their lifestyle aside from Scout and little tales from his childhood—trips to the zoo, the one time he rode a dirt bike and broke his collarbone, he and his dad rescuing an injured bunny from the park. 

 You should've known back then that you'd get in too deep. 

 The small garden that lines the house is well-kempt and full of blooming flowers, and the porch is home to a wire table and matching chairs with an unsavory gnome sitting on top.  

 "What in the world…"

 Mike doesn't even glance to see what you're looking at, just opens the screen door and informs you, "That's Leonidas," so casually that it makes you snort and push him into his own house. 

 It opens up to a living room, long couch, recliner, coffee table and all. A TV sits right in the middle of a beige entertainment center, DVDs stacked on one side, blu-ray discs on the other. It smells clean—like the lemon wipes you use in your dorm—but even stronger than that is the smell of food. 

 "Must already be cooking," Mike muses, then calls out in a different fucking language that has you turning to him in confusion. 

 Before you can ask about it, a plump woman a couple inches taller than you comes rushing out of what you assume to be the kitchen. Her graying hair is tied into a loose bun, cheeks rosy from the heat, and she's still in her apron and a single oven mitt. 

 "Miche, γλυκό μου αγόρι!" 

 She stops in front of him and reaches up to grab his face, peppering it with little kisses and babbling words you do not understand in the slightest. 

 Mike is laughing, speaking to her in the same fashion, possibly answering questions or defending himself judging by the way he holds his hands up. You think you have an inkling about why when his mother turns to you, puts her hands on your shoulders to look at you, then pulls you into a tight hug. 

 You squeeze her right back, rocking to and fro as she does, then look up at Mike from the corner of your eyes in a panic. 

 What do you do, what is happening, what hasn't he told you? 

 It’s about this time that a large dog runs into the room and actually jumps into Mike’s arms. He grunts as he hoists Scout up, nuzzling into her beautiful coat as she tries to lick his face.

 "Mamá, let her get settled first," Mike laughs from where he’s getting attacked. His mother lets go of you, but it’s only for Mike to set the dog back down, and Scout takes the opportunity to sniff and paw at you. “Be nice,” he warns her, pulling you in front of him and pushing you toward the hallway.

 That need to snoop around is ever present as you enter his room, but the much more pressing issue is, "You could've prepared me, ya' know. Given me a little heads up that you're…"

 "Greek?" He snorts, wiping his face with the bottom of his shirt. "My last name is Zacharias. That's a pretty good indicator."

 "I—..." You pause, pout, then mumble, "I'm not a genealogy expert."

 "Obviously not."

 He dumps the bags on his bed, a queen size, thank god, because he had told you last week they didn't have a guest room (and had seemed pretty happy about it at the time). 

 "I'll get mom and dad to speak in English for the next few days." 

 "I mean," you shake your head. "It's their house. I don't wanna intrude on that. Let 'em do what they're most comfortable with."

 He steps over to you, makes his classic move of staring down at you and smoothing his hand over your hair to make you tilt your head up. "That's sweet, but I know they're dying to talk with you, so actually being able to understand what they’re saying is kinda necessary."

 Humming, you stand on your tip-toes just as he begins to stoop lower. Before you can meet in a kiss, though, you smirk, "And, just why do they wanna get to know me, Miche? Is that a secret Greek name too?”

 He licks his lips, voice husky when he replies, "I've mentioned you a few times--”

 “Uh huh,” you smirk, too close for him to actually see.

 “And no, I think it’s Hebrew or something.” 

 You snicker before your mouths meet, breaths grow heavy, and the only time you break apart is so that you can look him in his light eyes and tell him, "By the way, the whole speaking a different language thing you can do?" He grunts, encouraging you to continue. "Very hot."

 You feel him smile against you, a self-satisfied, "Yeah?" making you burn against him. 

 "Yeah."

 It's hard to leave the room, but you both know you have to, hoping neither of you look too kiss-swollen when you walk back into the living room, and when Mike's mom is no longer there, he brings you to the kitchen instead. 

 "Smells good," he tells her, leaning over the stove and taking a whiff of the prepared dish that’s been set on top--stuffed tomatoes and peppers that make your mouth water.

 She says something, and Mike lets her finish before asking, "Can we speak in English while she's here? It's kinda hard to add to a conversation when you, like, don't know what's being said."

 "Oh, I'm so sorry!" She immediately gushes, turning to you with a worried look. Her accent is thick and charming, but she doesn't ever stutter, clearly fluent, just more comfortable in her apparently native language. "I just get so caught up when my Miche comes home, I—"

 And, she's hugging you again. 

 "I'm Maia! Christopher—Miche's father—should be home soon."

 You rub Maia's back until she lets go and turns back to the stove, but even as she does, she's asking you, "How is school? What are you studying? Miche's told me very few things."

 He shouldn't have told you anything at all, you want to say. 

 "Um, it's good. I'm an earth sciences major, geology specifically, so Mike—uh—Miche's been helping me study a lot."

 He leans down to speak so only you can hear, "Not necessary to call me that. She's gonna know who you're talking about when you say Mike."

 Not that you'll tell him, but you kind of like the way 'Miche' feels, the way it rolls from your lips to the back of your mouth, and for just one second, you think about how you'd like to moan it in his ear. 

 "So, uh," you shake your head in an attempt to get it back on straight. "Yeah, it's going good, I think."

 "It is nice that you study together," Maia hums, slicing into the dish to portion it out. "Miche probably enjoys the break from his fraternity life." 

 Mike makes an unsure noise, but you grin and lean on the counter, eyes shining as you look at the middle-aged woman, "You know, speaking of that, I need to know what he was like before the whole frat thing 'cause—"

 "Uhh, we don't need to talk about that," Mike quickly cuts you off. 

 Maia, however, catches your eye and winks, a silent promise that she'll fill you in later. 

 Mike sees it, whines a dramatic, "Mamá, please."

 You laugh, glancing over at him with a devious smile that makes him roll his eyes and grumble something. 

 The creak of a door opening followed by the sound of a screen slamming back against the frame signals the arrival of Mike's father. It takes him a couple minutes to join everyone in the kitchen, probably taking the time to get more comfortable after what you assume to be a long day. 

 When he does walk in, once styled hair fallen out of place, top two buttons of his shirt undone, you see exactly where Mike gets most of his looks. He may have gotten his fucking mane from his mother, but he definitely got his height and his eyes from his father. 

 "Oh!" He stops short when he sees you, looks at his wife, then at you, then at Mike. "Is this the girl?" 

 "Dad!" 

 Both of his parents snicker as he turns to you, pleading more than telling, "Just ignore them, they don't know what they're talking about."

 You don't pay him any mind, join in on the fun when you lift an eyebrow and tease, "Am I, Mike? Am I the girl?"

 "Oh my god, this is gonna be a nightmare," he groans, the tips of his ears growing red. Still, he tries to put on a stern face as he points at his parents, speaks in beautiful, rolling words that are beyond you, then turns his flashing gaze to you and commands, "And you, don't encourage them."

 "Mm, no promises." You stick the tip of your tongue between your teeth and wink at his mom the way she had at you earlier. 

 All of you sit at an actual table for dinner, something you haven't done in at least a decade, as you talk and laugh between bites of food. Scout is laying underneath, waiting for someone to drop a piece of food, and every once in a while, you feel her wet nose nudge against your calf.

 Maia and Chris are very kind and very funny, and it isn't just because they pick on their son all the time. Chris talks about his day in the office, complaining about coworkers the same way Mike complains about his brothers—"I just don't understand why you would eat sardines in the break room! Someone explain it to me!" Maia tells everyone about the three hour phone call with her mother—"My god that woman can talk. Every time we said goodbye, she would just start on something new!"

 "Explains where you get it from," Chris says with a chuckle. 

 Maia scoffs then stabs a piece of his food with her fork, eating it with purpose as her husband watches. 

 You lean over to Mike and murmur, "They're cute. I like 'em."

 He grunts. "That makes one of us."

 Sucking your teeth, you mimic his mother's actions and dig your fork into the meat of his pepper, stealing a bite and scraping your teeth over the utensil in a way you know drives him crazy. 

 You immediately regret it when you realize how big the piece is, filling your mouth so that it's hard to chew, and you grab a napkin to cover yourself while Mike snorts and smugly says, "Yeah, bet you feel real smart right now. How does thievery taste?" 

 Shoving his arm, you manage to swallow down enough of the food to talk and tell him, "Tastes delicious."

 When you look back across the table, you find Maia and Chris staring at you and Mike with shining eyes and matching grins. 

*

You get along well with Mike's parents. A little too well in his opinion. There are a couple mornings you wake up earlier than he does and share coffee with his mother. He'll walk in to hear her sharing terrible stories about how, "He was such a sensitive little boy," and, "I miss the days he and his friends would spend afternoons here playing their little games."

 She even breaks out the photo albums one evening after dinner, leaving Mike mortified as you laugh and 'aww' at the pictures of past birthdays, Boy Scout outings, and the horrors of middle and high school. 

 "Look how cute you are with braces!"

 "Please stop."

 "All dressed up for Easter, oh my god, are those bunny ears?" 

 "Mom made me."

 "You were so skinny. What happened?" 

 "Are you calling me fat?" 

 "No, I'm calling you buff. Dummy."

 Less embarrassing are the long walks the two of you take with Scout (who also loves you, of course). She stays close to your hip as you wander around the park, only leaving your side when you throw her favorite ball. At the house, she noses at you until you shift to let her lay either at your feet or on the couch with her big head in your lap. 

 It's the cutest fucking thing Mike has ever seen, and he hates it because he can't do anything about it. He can't tell you how much he likes seeing you walk around in his house. He can't tell you how much joy it brings him to hear your laugh ring out alongside his parents'. He can't tell you how much he loves seeing you slide into his old bed in nothing but one of his shirts, making yourself comfortable against his chest and weaving your legs between his. 

 He can't tell you, but he can do his best to show you. 

 Late at night when his parents are asleep, when the buzzing TV is the only thing lighting the room, Mike moves inside of you with deep, slow thrusts. He hikes your legs up to lock around his waist or pulls you up against himself if he's taking you from behind. No matter the position, it leaves you clawing at him, breathing heavily, jaw dropping open in a silent scream. 

 You feel so good, so tight around him even after he gets you ready for his cock. Your silken walls squeeze and milk him, pulling every drop of cum from him to soak into you. Fuck, he's so glad you're letting him do that now, fill you up until you can't take any more, until white is dribbling from your messy pussy. The way you look at him all fucked out is intoxicating, eyes droopy, smile lazy, body twitching with aftershocks as he sucks on your neck and kisses down your shoulders. 

 You have to know. You have to. Mike knows his feelings are written all over his face when he looks at you, may as well be carved into his skin. The words are on the tip of his tongue every night, but he muffles them with kisses, with burying his face between your legs, with sinking his teeth into your soft flesh. 

 He can't say it because saying it makes it real. Saying it will make it hurt more. 

 So Mike keeps his mouth shut, watches you every day as you converse with his parents and play with Scout. You poke around his bedroom in your usual nosy fashion, finding the rest of his Magic cards, old D&D books and privacy screens. The dusty record player he'd inherited from his grandfather interests you above all else, vinyls stacked around it, some old, some new, and as you flip through them now, cross-legged on the floor and swimming in his hoodie, you tell him the little things you talked about with his mom earlier in the day. 

 "She showed me your baby teeth," you say with a snort. "Why do parents keep those? My mom did too."

 "Black Magic, obviously," Mike says seriously, but when you glance up at him, he chuckles. "I don't know, babe. It's fuckin' weird, though."

 You grin and look back down at The Alan Parsons Project vinyl in your lap. You're quiet for a moment, but when you do speak up, it's in a quiet voice. "I'm pretty sure they think I'm your girlfriend."

 Mike cringes on the bed, shutting his eyes and sighing. "Yeah, that's probably 'cause I told them you were." 

 "What?" You turn your whole body to face him, eyes wide and incredulous. 

 Sitting up, Mike holds his hands out and questions, "What was I supposed to tell them? Hey, mom and dad, I'm bringing home this girl I fuck at school all the time."

 "We don't just fuck," you scoff. "You could've said friend or… Study buddy."

 "Study buddies with benefits," he lets out a humorless laugh. "How many of those study sessions end with your mouth around my cock?" 

 "That's beside the point." You stand up and walk over to the bed, hands on your hips as you glare at him in an unconvincing manner. You're not actually upset, Mike realizes. A little annoyed maybe but more surprised than anything. "The point is they expect us to do couple-y things."

 "We do do couple-y things." Mike reminds you, rolling his eyes when you snicker and murmur 'ha, do do'. "Oh my god, you're a dork."

 "So are you. And, a dumb one. What happens when they find out we're not actually together? Are we gonna have to stage a break up somewhere down the line?" 

 "Stop worrying about it," Mike tries, reaching out for one of your arms to pull you on top of him. You must be very used to straddling him at this point. It seems like you're in his lap more often than you're not these days, even if the two of you are just talking. "Just chill and fake it for a little while longer."

 You pout, glancing to the wall for a second before you mutter, "Might be tough. I've never had to fake anything for you before."

 Mike groans and traces his fingers up your sides, stopping at your shoulders and using them to guide you closer to him. With your face only millimeters from his, he barely even has to whisper when he presses, "Fake it just this once."

 You nod, lips brushing his, and from there you both devolve into sloppy kisses and desperate hands. As always.

[ next ]