#but that's what stuck out to me immediately

[2neaky]

24 Hours, Someone There When She Need

It's that time of the month ... well, almost.

—5.1 k words! content warnings: ovulation, emphasis on pms symptoms (whether realistic or not), moody/petty reader, attentive bf Connie, p in v, b*ckshots, vulgar s*x talk, cr*eampie—(☆) will be used in place of "Y/N" (banners by @adornedwithlight)

The deep slope of her stomach curves gently, just barely a muffin over the tight hem of her sweats. If she hadn't been staring so closely, analyzing every inch of her reflection's figure, she wouldn't have even noticed it.

But the sight is enough to have her kiss her teeth, the sharp sound slicing through the air.

"Are you fucking serious?"

Bringing dainty fingers to the area where her stomach protrudes the most, she presses the tips into her warm skin. What she expects to to feel is the plushness of her abdomen.

Not a taut surface, feeling as though it's stretched to its full capacity. Or the sharp pang of an ache deep in her lower stomach. A hiss slips past her thick, two-toned lips.

"Fuck." She presses more, prodding at different spots to see if her body would have the same reaction. All she notices is the gradual change in where her bloated stomach had grown tight and where it had remained somewhat soft.

In all her twenty-odd years of living, (☆) had never expected be one of the unlucky few who got bloated. This is a first, and she desperately wishes for it to be the last time.

What did she eat to cause this? God, she hopes it isn't because of that bread she ate last night. A gluten allergy this late in the game would fucking suck.

And this is uncomfortable, at best. Her stomach feels tight and overall, she just feels heavier than usual. Not to mention the pain. It echoes from the inside out.

She whines at the unfairness of it all before defeatedly lifting her chin to let her shirt fall back over her stomach.

Correction—her boyfriend's shirt.

(☆) prays the bloating will go away before the end of the day.

Nursing the carton of passion fruit sorbet in her lap, (☆) watches the Tv screen with wide eyes. The anticipation regarding the killer's next moves only grows.

"Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit," she whispers to herself, a spoonful of the sour treat stuck in her hand as she refuses a bite without seeing what happens next.

The shift and click of the front door, rather than the movie, has her jumping out of her seat. She looks over at it just in time to see Connie pushing his way into their apartment. The sight of which makes her heart skip a beat.

"Oh my fucking God, you scared the shit outta me," she laughs, breathless and holding her chest. She stretches forward to place her carton of sorbet on the coffee table.

"My fault ... didn't mean to do that," he smiles, shrugging off his jacket to place it in the nearby coat closet.

"You're good," she hums, making her way over to greet him.

Just as he's free, (☆) slides a hand up his chest, bracing herself as she leans in on her tippy-toes to plop a juicy kiss on his lips.

"Hey, baby," she beams, pulling back to look up at him through her fluffy mink lashes.

"Hey." His voice is soft and the traces of his cologne from earlier today flood her nose. "What you been doing?"

She shrugs and glances back at the Tv still playing in the dark living room. "Just watching a movie." Turning back, her eyes zero-in on her boyfriend's handsome face. If it were possible, her eyes would be two giant, blood-red hearts. "I missed you, though."

Her other hand joins its twin, still resting on his chest. In tandem, they slide up and around his shoulders. And Connie knows better than to not do anything about that; pale, tattooed arms encircle her waist.

Hugging her tight, his face immediately falls into the crook of her neck, her warm skin smelling like her usual rose-scented lotion.

"Missed you, too," he mumbles.

The vibration of his voice pulls a gentle giggle out of her. Connie pulls back from the crook of her neck, only to press a kiss to the portion of her forehead, where the band of her bonnet doesn't reach.

"How was work today?"

He does a half-shrug, not at all concerned with shit that's got to do with that place. Not when he's got his baby in his arms. Working at an auto-body shop isn't as exciting as it seems. "Regular shit. But I'm not tryna talk about that right now."

Another giggle. "Okay." (☆) sighs, the smile on her lips falling into a soft pout. "Why can't you just stay home with me?"

He scoffs, a teasing smile on his pink lips. "And who's gonna buy you all that expensive shit when you wanna go on your little shopping trips?"

With a playful roll of the eyes, she replies, "Fine. I just hate when you're gone so long."

Both of his dark, well-groomed brows pull together as he smile of confusion tugs at his lips. "It's just work, babe. You okay?"

(☆) blinks. "Yeah, why? I can't miss my man?"

"Ion know," he laughs, unsure. "You just ... Ion know."

"As your girlfriend, it should be normal that I just want to be buried in your skin at all times. C'mon now, Connie. You should know that."

Confusion melts away as he allows himself to fully laugh at her joke. "Aight."

Finally, they pull away. He steps into the living room, flipping on the lights. "You ain't go to work today?"

Taking up her carton of sorbet, (☆) goes for the forgotten bite. "Nope. I wasn't feeling it." Her tongue curls around the cool, silver spoon filled with the fruity, sour treat.

He hums, heading into the kitchen, (☆) following just a couple of feet behind.

"You might get your wish tomorrow."

Now it's her turn to look confused.

"I'm home tomorrow," he smiles, answering her silent question.

Gasping, her lips stretch upward. "Forreal?"

"Yeah, you got me all day."

Excitement isn't even the word. Before she can think of anything to say, Connie stretches over the island to pluck the spoon from her hand, stealing a bite of her sorbet.

"Hey!"

He takes the carton, too.

"You shower yet?"

She shakes her head, frowning as she watches him devour her favorite flavor.

"Good." He shovels another spoonful into his mouth. "I'ma meet you in there."

The hot pellets of water hit her body and cascade down her skin, covering her in a blanket of warmth. Suds crawl down her person and towards the drain.

(☆) can't wait for Connie any longer. Where is he?

As she watches a soapy bubble slip down her navel, her thoughts are brought back to her stomach. Fingers skate over the smooth and hot skin.

She's still bloated, though her stomach is a tiny bit softer. She hopes it isn't too noticeable.

The shower door pulls open and cool air rushes in, hitting her. It's slightly refreshing.

"You having fun in there?"

As the question leaves Connie's mouth, his gaze dips, noticing (☆)'s hands on her stomach. Immediately, they drop away.

"I already cleaned, you took too long," she rolls her eyes. "And hurry up and get in ... you letting all the steam out."

"Good." He steps into the shower, closing the door behind him. "You got the whole bathroom fogging up." He slides in right behind her, his body adding more heat to the shower. "Could barely even see two feet in front'a me."

She wants to roll her eyes again, because how dare he have her wait this long?

But, the urges dies away as soft hands grip her wide hips and warm lips are pressed into the side of her neck. Her rigid body relaxes.

Much like this bathroom, her mind fogs over as his hands travel up the sides of her body, only to slide up under her breasts to cup them.

And all (☆) can think about in this moment is how good his touch feels ... and how good it would be to get some dick right now.

His lips are moving against her neck. He's speaking and she's not even listening to the words coming out of his mouth.

Absolutely nothing can take her out of this moment ... except for the sharp pain that strikes throughout her boobs.

"Ow!"

She yanks away to face him.

"What?" His eyes are wide in panic, bouncing all over her face.

"Why did you squeeze so hard?" She almost yells, caressing her tender chest.

"My bad," he starts, eyes on her red-tinged skin. "I didn't mean to hurt you." His face creases with worry. "I thought you liked it, I usually squeeze 'em like that."

"Okay, well it hurt," she frowns.

"I'm sorry," he says, voice softening.

A tiny sigh slips past her lips. "Don't squeeze, just hold."

He nods. "Wash my back?"

"Yeah," she says, grabbing his wash net from the shelf. As she lathers it with soap, he turns his back to her. Ready, she begins with a. light scrub across the expanse of his skin.

The curves, ridges and dents of Connie's back shine through his tattoos. His biggest pieces are here. But the one that matters the most is pretty small—sitting on the perch of his shoulder: her name.

Slowly, Connie turns for her. (☆) keeps quiet, all of her attention poured into ensuring that he is squeaky clean.

Well ... until he focuses on just his body. And—fuck—his soap smells so good.

Her free hand presses to his bare chest, fingers splayed out against his tattoos. Before she realizes, she slips her hand down his stomach.

Her mind is running. Right now, she can skip all the foreplay. Shit, even head. Taking Connie in the shower would be so perfect.

Bent over, bracing the wall as he pounds into her from behind. Dick reaching so deep—

Her lower stomach aches wonderfully at the thought. And speaking of ache, she's sure his dick could fix that.

"Uh-uh, keep your focus."

Dark eyes flick upward to stare into his. A smirk ghosts at his lips.

"I can't touch it a little bit?"

The lust in her eyes is there, tangible. He almost laughs out of pure shock.

"You know Ion like shower sex," he smiles gently, taking up her hand to slips his fingers in between hers.

"Connie," she whines before kissing her teeth. "C'mon, please?"

"Nah, baby, we could do it after. I promise." He leans in to plant a kiss on her temple.

However, (☆) pulls away, even snatching her hand out of his hold. Frustration contorts her face.

"Why the fuck would we do it after we just showered?"

His eyebrows raise at her sudden switch in tone. "Woah."

"That's stupid, Connie. Like, what the fuck?"

Now he's making a face. "(☆)—"

Sucking her teeth, she pushes open the shower door and steps out.

And as good as her ass looks walking away, Connie can't help but to be thrown off.

By the time Connie had left the shower, (☆) was already in bed. The covers were pulled over her shoulders, and her back was turned to him.

"(☆) ... (☆)."

No answer.

"You serious right now?"

He's talking to himself. Sucking his teeth, Connie decides to move on with himself. He lotions his skin after drying off and gets dressed before climbing into bed.

The silence on (☆)'s end continues into the next morning, apparent by the other side of the bed left empty. Usually, she would wake him up.

It's only fair that Connie be pissed.

This is his day off, he's supposed to be enjoying it with her. How the fuck is he going to do that when she's ignoring him?

He doesn't even understand the reason for it either. It wasn't like he flat-out rejected her. He just said "not now."

And (☆) knows he doesn't like shower sex. It's too cramped and too slippery. Last time they did it, he almost slipped and busted his head open.

Scary times.

Shit, (☆) even agrees with him, regarding his feelings on shower sex. At least she usually did.

Either way, it just brings him back to his point—there was no reason for her to blow up at him like that. And there's no reason for her to be this upset.

He just hopes the silence doesn't last all day.

Sitting at the island, he shoves a spoonful of cereal and milk into his mouth. Because, of course, she only made breakfast for herself.

As he eats silently, he watches her stand at the electric kettle, waiting for the water to come to a full boil. There's a mug nearby, the tag for the raspberry tea bag hanging over the cup.

The kettle clicks as it shuts off. Carefully, she takes it up and pours the steaming water into the mug. As she does so, he eyes her closely, not caring to be caught.

Her tank top is tight against her body, practically a second skin. And it's making her boobs look great.

Totally an inappropriate time to be thinking this, he knows. God, he's like a horned up teenager. But he can't deny the obvious.

And usually, her boobs always look good. He's never been one to complain about them. But there's something about them today, he can't put his finger on it.

They look more ... full? A little heavier than usual.

And now that he's looking so closely, her nipples are poking. He glances up at her face, seeing that she's still choosing to ignore his staring.

Dammit, if that doesn't piss him off even more. Because even in a state of having just gotten out of bed, she looks beautiful. Her skin's got that soft, morning glow that's making it look all clear and her lips look so plump and kissable.

Why did they have to be fighting?

He shakes his head with a quiet sigh, lips pressed together in annoyance.

As (☆) turns to place the kettle back, his eyes move elsewhere on her body—her stomach. The bottom of it peaks out from under the end of her camisole, making it fit like a baby-tee.

Now, (☆)'s never had the flattest stomach or abs. He's okay with that, more than okay—he loves her soft tummy. But ... this isn't her usual stomach pudge.

It's got a roundness to it that, honestly, has got him second-guessing if she's still on birth control. Or if the shit is even working.

If he were dumb—or just didn't know his own girlfriend—he'd assume she's at least in her first trimester.

As he looks back up at her face, he finds her glaring back at him. His mouth opens—he doesn't even know what he wants to say. But, before the words spill out, she's walking out of the kitchen and back to their bedroom.

"C'mon, bro," he sighs out.

(☆) resurfaces minutes later, this time, dressed in one of his t-shirts. It completely sheathes her figure, causing him to frown.

"(☆)—"

"What?"

He buffers for a second, conflicted on what to acknowledge first: her odd ass behavior or that fucking attitude?

He decides to give her some leeway. "Yo, what's up with you?"

"Nothing." Her tone is flat and her words are quick.

"(☆), quit playing. I'm serious."

"I said 'nothing,' Connie, oh my God." Exhaling, she grabs her mug and takes a sip of her tea.

He eyes her for a moment. Clearly, she's in no mood for a mature or sensible conversation. And bringing up his concern for her stomach would be like shooting himself in the foot.

God, it's his day off! He doesn't want to argue with her. Today is supposed to be enjoyable and relaxing.

Whatever's going on with her, he just wants to fix it so he can get back to loving on her.

Desperate for a solution to this problem, Connie decides to be the bigger person and send out the first peace offering.

Shortly after breakfast, Connie had left the apartment.

Despite her aversion to holding a real conversation with him, a wave of frustration washes over (☆).

He just left without saying a word.

That really got to her, enough that the backs of her eyeballs began to prickle with the production of tears.

God, is she really about to cry over this?

They've had much worse fights. This isn't even a real fight? What the fuck is going on with her?

And why the fuck is she still bloated?

It's worse today, too! She wants to fucking scream. And Connie noticed, she knows he did. He was practically analyzing her body earlier.

Even worse, her boobs are even more sore than they were last night. And the ache in her stomach had grown into full on cramps, attacking her every five to 10 minutes or so.

God, she feels like shit.

With the presence of the cramps, she starting to fear the presence of her period. She isn't supposed to get it for another week. But she's wetter than usual, and it's got her fearful that at any moment it could be blood.

Her body is not on her side today, clearly, and it's fucking with her self-esteem. Who knows how long these symptoms are going to last?

Hopefully, they'll go away before her actual period starts.

But at this rate, it seems like she's going to be wearing baggy shirts for the next couple of days.

As he drives, Connie's mind doesn't stray from the thought of (☆).

Her stomach, her irritability—the raspberry tea. All those signs point to one thing: she's started her period.

Has it really been a month already? Shit ...

That doesn't explain the bloating, though. Or does it? He's never noticed it before, at least.

However, he shrugs it off. He's just glad he recognized the signs sooner than last time. That wasn't fun.

He glances over at the plastic bags resting in the passenger seat: her favorite food from the Jamaican restaurant they tend to order from, and a bag of groceries—full of her favorite snacks during her time of the month.

He hopes he didn't forget anything. Otherwise, that's his ass.

When he returns to the apartment, the kitchen and living room are empty.

Setting the bags down on the kitchen island, he calls out to her.

Still no answer.

So, he goes searching for her. And even though the apartment isn't small, there really aren't many places to hide. Connie knows his girlfriend well enough to know that she's in bed ... which is where he finds her.

"What you doing?"

She shrugs, sparing him no eye contact. Most of her attention is on the Tv.

"Aight, well ... I got you some food."

"I just ate."

"I know, but ... I know you still hungry."

And he's right. Her appetite on her period rivals his.

"C'mon." He's already heading back into the kitchen before she can onject, not that she would. Not when food is involved.

Sighing out, (☆) climbs out of bed to follow after him. As she saddles up to the island, Connie is pulling a foil container from one of the plastic bags on the countertop.

He pulls the plastic covering off before sliding the bowl over to her, the steam rising in her face.

Her resolve is cracking. (☆) peers up at him.

"I just ... thought you would'a ... wanted this."

She looks back down at the food, trying to keep her lower lip from trembling. She sniffs. "Thanks."

He nods, watching her open up the plastic utensils and stab a fork into the food. She takes a bite.

And another.

Then another.

Before he knows it, Connie has watched her devour half of the meal when she decides she's finished. She'll save the rest for later.

"You wanna watch something with me?"

She eyes him suspiciously. Why is he being so nice?

She had expected him to be upset with her. She knows she’s been a bit difficult. What she didn’t expect was for him to go out and by her food and still want to spend time with her when he got home.

God, she really was being unreasonable last night. She didn’t even mean to react that way. She doesn’t even like shower sex!

But … he just looked so good and she just wanted him so bad in that moment.

She has to apologize.

The couple move from the kitchen island to the living room couch. Connie sits back with his arms spread across the tops of the cushions.

Apprehensively, (☆) snuggles into his side, face pressed into his chest. His warm, musky scent only makes her relax further. He hadn’t put on any cologne today, and his natural scent is driving her crazy.

Connie takes the liberty of finding a show for them to watch: Snowfall. But, he honestly could’ve put on anything because she wasn’t paying attention at all. Only concerned with being in his arms, (☆)’s mood is better than it’s been all day.

One of his arm’s moves from the top of the couch to hang off of her shoulder. Smooth and delicately, his fingers rake up and down her upper arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake.

He does so a couple of times before that hand sinks to her waist and slides its way underneath the baggy shirt. It’s nothing for him to find her stomach, caressing her.

She doesn’t freeze or pull away. In fact, (☆) hugs him tighter and Connie is relieved that she’s enjoying this.

But she's enjoying it more than he intended. As he continues, (☆) only wishes for his hand to go lower. With every rub, his fingers tap at the hem of her pants.

She wants him to reach lower. Pushing her body up further against his, she hopes he gets the message.

Her mind is running, and there goes that ache in her lower stomach again. (☆) swears that the only thing that can get rid of it is him.

The thought of his dick pressing against her cervix has got her ridiculously wet. Emboldened, she throws a leg over his lap. Immediately, Connie catches it with his other hand.

He doesn't hesitate to rub her down, from her knee all the way up to her thigh and back. And every time he gets so close. What's stopping him from giving her just a small little squeeze?

Wordlessly, (☆) slips a hand beneath his shirt and heads straight for the hem of his sweats.

Connie tenses for a second, only relaxing when he realizes that she's only playing with his drawstring. His attention returns to the Tv for the next few minutes, until her fingers actually start to grip at his pants again.

This time he looks down at her. "(☆)—"

"Connie, c'mon." Sucking her teeth, (☆) sits up to really look at him. "Why don't you wanna do anything with me? You think I'm ugly or something?"

"What—(☆), no—"

"Then why not? What is it?"

Now it's his turn to sit up. "I never said I didn't want to. Shit, I did yesterday, but you got mad."

"Okay, but I'm sorry."

He shakes his head. "It's cool, I'm not tripping off'a that."

"Then let's do it," she almost whines.

"I—(☆)..." He releases a sigh. "Ion know if period sex is something you really wanna do."

She blinks, completely knocked off by his words. "I'm sorry ... period sex?"

'Yeah ... ain't you on it?"

"What the fuck—no." Her face scrunches up. "Why would you think that?"

"Wha—Ion know! I just thought—"

"So, just 'cause I got mad, I'm suddenly on my period?" Her voice is steadily rising.

"No—"

"Is that why you got me food?" She looks at him through squinted eyes.

"(☆)—"

She rips away from him, standing on her feet. "Fuck you."

"Baby, wait—" He stands to block her from leaving. "It's not 'cause you was mad."

(☆) crosses her arms over her chest, careful not to press too hard on her chest. "So what was it?"

"You just—you a lil' moodier than normal—but, but, I can see you also a lil ... bloated—"

She makes an attempt to push past him, but Connie catches her before she can slip away.

"I'm not saying it's something wrong with it, I just thought something was going on 'cause your body was reacting." His voice is soft and slow as he tries his best to explain himself. "You even drank the tea! You only drink it when you're on your period."

(☆) exhales, gaze averted as she internalizes his words.

"Well ... I'm not on it."

"Okay, well ... my bad. Sorry for assuming."

She keeps quiet, her face softening.

"Forreal, (☆). I'm sorry."

"I know..."

"You'on forgive me?"

She didn't even notice when he'd gotten closer. But his hands are on her hips now. "Hm?" And his face finds its way in the crook of her neck.

"Connie—"

"You'on ... wanna ... accept my apology?" Every space in his sentence was filled with a kiss to her skin.

"Connie ... okay!" She bursts out into a laugh, feeling him nip at her skin.

He pulls away to stare down at her. "Forgive me?"

"Yes!" The big smile on her lips betrays the way she rolls her eyes.

Another bit of boisterous laughter pours our from her as he lifts her up onto his hips.

"Want me to make it up to you?"

She nods softly, leaning in to press her lips against his.

"Good."

“Oh shit … oh shi … o—shiiiiit!”

Acrylics dig into the plush comforter, strewn across the rocking bed.

The wide, tattooed hand splayed across the small of her back is warm, just like its twin that clutches her hip. Her body naturally leans into the touch, like it’s a salve to the repeated punch of dick to her cervix.

“Shit … bounce on it, baby.”

The clap of her ass against his pelvis has got her ears ringing. But it’s nothing compared to the loud sopping noise her pussy makes.

“Fu—uck Con’,” (☆) moans out, turning her head to the side against the mattress, just to watch him enjoy her pussy.

So wet, it’s too easy for him to pull out. It’s damn near no friction. Looking down at himself, surprise takes him as he sees her juices dripping from his dick—dripping like honey onto the sheets.

His dick bobs in the air and she whines, missing it already. Gripping one ass cheek to keep her spread open, Connie watches her clench around nothing.

“Shit so creamy ... you came yet?”

(☆) barely shakes her head.

Hand still on her ass, he jiggles it softly before giving the cheek a quick smack. Her whimper's got his dick jumping. He misses being inside her already.

Chuckling, he takes himself in his hand and pushes back in. As his dick bullies its way into her wetness, air expels from her tight pocket, making a wet noise of suction.

“Damn," he groans. "This pussy talking to me?" He resumes his steady strokes.

"Auugh ... aauh—yes, Daddy," she whines.

Clenching his jaw, Connie props a leg up. Placing his hands on her shoulders, he pulls her back on his dick as he drives his hips forward. The force punches broken moans out of her, only encouraging him to go harder.

"Yes, yes, yes!" she chants.

Dropping her head low, (☆) pushes a shaky hand down under her body, reaching between her trembling legs to weakly cup herself. It's an unintentional action to soothe the overstimulation—feeling more sensitive than normal.

"This what you needed, right?" His heavy breaths are quiet compared to the echoes of skin-to-skin, the squelching sounds of her pussy, and her moans. "Hm?"

Mouth dropping open, (☆) fights to get a word out. Her eyes almost get lost at the back of her head. "Ye ... y-yes!"

Every time she bounces back, Connie finds her cream building up at the base of his dick.

"Ooouuh, baby!"

"What?" He licks his lips, brows furrowed deeply as he continues delivering backshots. "Tell me."

"S-so deep!"

"I'm deep?"

"Yes—fuck!"

Hands move from her shoulders; One around her throat and the other gripping the fat of her hip. Connie slows, only to ground his hips into her with far-reaching slow strokes, aiming to make her feel each and every movement.

"I'm in your stomach?"

She nods wordlessly. Any arch in her back is gone. She can barely hold herself up.

The fingers around her neck squeeze, and she squeezes around him.

"Shit, baby," he whispers, pushing past any weaknesses to continue driving into her. "Pussy too good."

Through the haze of their fucking, (☆) still notices the way he pulses inside of her and the telltale twitches he makes when he's close.

A shaky moan pushes out of her as her eyes squeeze shut. "Don't pull out!"

She squeaks as Connie pulls her up, her back to his chest, and grips her throat tighter.

"Want me to cum in it?"

"Yes, baby," she pants. "Cum in me!"

The thought has her pussy fluttering around him. It almost blindsides him. His lower stomach burns as he staves off yet another release.

"Yeah?" He speaks in her ear.

"Yeah," she whines, eyes falling closed as she allows him to hold up the abundance of her weight.

He pushes (☆) back into the bed, keeping her head into the sheets and her ass in the air. His hand remains around her neck.

"All you had to do was wait," he said through gritted teeth. "Would've given you all this shit and more."

His sentences are punctuated with the perfect slams into her uterus. It gives her a pain that kills any of those pesky cramps she had early. A pain that feels so good.

This is better than any heating pad. Shit, better than taking painkillers.

Her orgasm hits her like a truck. But it doesn't stop Connie from drilling into her, fucking as he sprays around his dick. The sensation feels like he's drowning in the best way possible.

Before he knows it, Connie is coming inside of her—deep. And (☆) swears to God she can feel him in her stomach. Her body is abuzz and she feels like she's floating.

Even though she's done, her body continues milking him, pulling a deep groan out of him. He lays one more smack on her ass before pulling out.

Immediately after, their cum—mixed together—oozes out of her. The sight is almost hypnotic. Before Connie allows himself to be swept up in it, he remembers something.

"You still on birth control, right?"

"Stopped ... a couple weeks ago."

Oh, shit.

[reallyromealone]

Title: accidentally kidnapping the mafia boss

Fandom: haikyuu

Characters: kuroo, bokoto

Fic type: fluff

Pairings: kuroo x reader, akaashi x bokoto

Warnings: male reader, reader insert, slow burn, readers oblivious, choking, threats, bleeding

Notes: want bam

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

(Name) Hummed as he dragged a cool vintage luggage chest home on his dolly-- an amazing investment he will always treasure-- having seen it on his way home and running to grab his dolly to get it "damn this things heavy..." (Name) Grumbled as he pulled it carefully up the stairs as to not damage the stairs or break the chest though it seemed sturdy.

"Ok... And into my apartment..." (Name) Mumbled unlocking the door and bringing it in excitedly before moving it to the ground "easy..." He whispered to himself and marvelled at the amazing chest "let's see what's inside" grabbing his trusty chain cutters he kept after neighbor put a lock on (name)s mailbox-- he was still mad at that old fart.

Cracking it open he carefully lifted it to see... "Holy fuck that's a person" (name) noticed the stab marks in the side for air as the man was sweating and exhausted "sir?!" He panicked as he noticed bruises "fuck..." The black haired man was disoriented before looking at the man before him and immediately (name) was on the ground with a hand around his throat "who fuck are you?"

"I... Can... Ask the same..." (Name) Wheezed as he gripped the man's tattooed arm desperately to get it off and the man glared but loosened his grip and (name) gasped "where am I?" The man seethed, looking around the room at the tiny apartment "my apartment, I thought this was a cool trunk and took it home... Wasn't expecting you"

"Shit..." The black haired man stood up slowly and hissed in pain, (name) looked alarmed "dude you're bleeding! Let me get my med kit!" (Name) Immediately scurried off to grab said item as kuroo stumbled to the couch, brief thoughts about its comfort as he rested a bit and tried to sort his thoughts. "ok, so I have hello kitty and pokemon gauze, which one you want" (name) asked and kuroo looked confused "what? Regular gauze is lame"

(Name) Helped him remove his sweaty and tattered shirt before beginning to clean his wound "thankfully they missed any important bits, I can stitch you but you may need a shot of vodka or something" (name) teased as he began patching him up the best he could with the finite skills he had, humming softly as he worked. Kuroo was staring at him intently, why was he so calm? He just found a dude in a chest he brought home! "Aaand there!" (Name) Seemed pleased with himself as he patched up the other, a grin on his face "you should rest for a bit, do you have anyone to call?" (Name) Asked while getting up to walk to the kitchen only a few feet away "uh, yeah..." Kuroo was awkward to say the least.

(Name) Put a few rice balls on a plate and a cup before walking back, setting them infront of him. Pulling out his phone he pulled the call screen up and handed it to kuroo "here, to get your strength up"

Kuroo quickly dialed his right hands number, tapping his foot as it rang a few times "speak"

"Bokoto, it's kuroo" the mob boss said simply and bokotos tone changed "where are you?! I have been looking for you for two days!" The owl like man yelled worried and kuroo looked to (name) "what's your address " (name) perked up at the question"(address)!"

"Who was that?"

"My accidental captor, don't worry the kittens as harmful as a daisy"

"That's good, we will be there in 30"

"Excellent, bring me a new shirt"

"On it!"

Hanging up kuroo signed and (name) let out a small laugh "what's so funny?"

"This is such a weird day!"

"Yeah... It is pretty weird" Kuroo chuckled lowly as he looked at the other "you're weirdly calm for finding someone choking you out" (name) shrugged "I would have been pretty hostile if I was stuck in a trunk for god knows how long and in an unknown place" kuroo looked at the bruising around (name)s neck and frowned, he was too cute to have bruises like that... Well at least in the context they existed in.

Kuroo leaned and gently touched (name)s Adams apple, the reddish bruise forming on his neck in the shape of kuroos hand "sorry about this" he whispered and looked into (name)s eyes as the other man looked back at him. The two were close, very close and kuroo decided he wanted to kiss his little kidnapper.

BAM BAM BAM

"YO KUROO, ITS ME!" Bokoto called from the apartment door, and kuroo grumbled and pulled away "One minute!" The buff man got up and walked to the door, swinging it open to reveal another buff man. "Whose this?" Bokoto asked seriously as he nodded to the cutie on the couch "oh this is... Fuck I forgot to ask your name" kuroo said to the other who just smiled "I'm (name)! Sorry for accidentally kidnapping you!" Bokoto now understood why kuroo called him a kitten, sweet smile and no regards for the dangerous men in the room that could kill him.

"Would you like something to drink?" (Name) Offered and kuroo wanted to laugh at the absurdity of this all as bokoto shrugged and sat on a chair.

"Accidentally got kidnapped by a twink with a nice ass" bokoto teased as he looked at the man preparing drinks and snacks "better grab him before Akaashi spots him" his husband loved cuties like this, kuroo glaring at the concept of his best friend and right hands husband touching (name).

Wait what.

Why did he care?

And that grin on bokotos face said it all, kuroo was into the dumb pretty boy who came in with snacks and drinks.

Kuroo took a bite from his rice ball with a sigh, this was gonna be troublesome.

[legendary-pink-dot]

Please, Mr Postman

Pairing: Joel Miller x female reader

Rating: 18+ Explicit

Warnings: Unprotected PiV sex, butt play, creampie, oral (f receiving), and lots of sex toys. No ages mentioned or alluded to. Reader is married. There are themes of infidelity, blackmail and stalking, but Reader is fully consenting and willing. Mailman Joel is a sleaze, consider youself duly warned.

Word Count: 4.3K (by far the longest thing I've ever written, whew)

Summary: Every morning at 9am sharp, you take your coffee to the front room and listen for his mail truck.

Notes: Poking my nose out of my hiatus hidey-hole to write this as a gift for my very very dear friend @magpiepills for the prompt "Stole your mail and uses it to sexually blackmail you mailman Joel". I love you, my sweet Bat. 💜 Giant thanks to @for-a-longlongtime for the last-minute rapid beta read. Much love to my sluts for cheerleading: @youandmeand5bucks @exquisiteserotonin @arcanefox207 @sparklefarts38 @redhotkitchen I have never written Joel before, so please be kind. Thank you and enjoy.

Please, Mr Postman - Joel Miller x f!reader

Every morning at 9am sharp, you take your coffee to the front room and listen for his mail truck. The squeak of the rusted brake pads as he parks at the end of the block is a melody, as distinctive to you now as the chimes of the classic ice cream trucks from your childhood, eliciting a Pavlovian response of salivating over the treats it held within.

Life was easy and carefree at that age. You didn't have responsibilities, grown-up worries, or this present burden of being a Stepford wife to a rich man who occasionally did some illegal activities. He was kind to you and you loved him, desired him even, but despite being a criminal he was boring. He was not the adventurous, filthy man in bed you secretly hoped for. But you knew things about his work that made it dangerous to leave, and financially he made sure you were kept comfortable enough to not want to tell. So you stayed. And here you were, marooned in a leafy suburb, stuck at home all day and fantasizing about the hot new mailman. What a cliche you've become.

The mailman's name was Joel. And he really did command attention.

Salt and pepper hair that curled around the edge of his blue cap. Dark brown eyes that showed a few flecks of amber the rare times you've seen them up close. A strong nose with a neatly trimmed mustache and gorgeous facial scruff. Large hands that could football-hold an entire package in each.

And speaking of packages: his looked prodigious. It looked obscene what he was carrying around in those standard issue United States Postal Service shorts. You dreamed about it at night -- how thick his cock must be and how you'd lick it like those sweet summer popsicle treats -- as your husband snored beside you after giving you one pitiful orgasm and then immediately coming himself and falling asleep.

You never thought anyone could be attractive in such a dumpy grey uniform, but somehow Joel found a way.

In the summer heat he always rolled up the edges of his pleated shorts, a thick pocket chain clacking along his meaty thigh. Light hair dusted his tanned legs. His black leather belt was cinched tight, further emphasizing his delicious bulge. The sleeves of his polo shirt were similarly rolled and showed off well-toned forearms from all the lifting and carrying. In short: he was a dream.

But you'd never go further than look. You loved your husband, for all his faults. You'd even placed a big order of sex toys last week in the hopes he'd be willing to spice things up in the bedroom. The tracking app says it's out for delivery, and right on cue, Joel comes walking up your driveway cradling a large cardboard box in his hands. Damn, he looks good today.

"Mornin', ma'am," he drawls politely. You think he winks at you, or maybe it's just the sun hitting his eyes. "Got a big one for you today."

You move to take it, but he shakes his head. "It's heavy. Let me put it inside for ya."

The thought of him being inside your home makes you tingle. You don't even think to consider that postal workers aren't supposed to go past a customer's front step.

You hold the door open and Joel stomps through, leaving bootprints of dirt on your "Home Sweet Home" welcome mat.

"Ma'am? Where d'ya want it?" He sounds amused, and you realize with a start that he's been standing in your entranceway for an awkward length of time. You'd been too busy ogling his legs, and more, in those rolled-up shorts. Was it your imagination, or was he not wearing underwear?

"On the coffee table, please." You lead him to the sitting room beside the entranceway. It's your happy place, your sanctuary, the spot you have your morning coffee in as you listen for the siren song of his mail truck.

Joel gently places the box on the coffee table and turns to you.

"I'll just wait here while you check that everythin's in order."

"What… what do you mean?" You feel your cheeks heat. Fortunately the box was nondescript, but it did give off a brown paper wrapping porn vibe.

"It's insured for $700. Must be some expensive stuff. 'S my job to write a report if anything's broken."

Nervous sweat starts beading down your back. "It… it's okay… I can report online if there's a problem…"

"'S no trouble. Let's just take a quick peek." Joel's already pulled his keychain ceramic boxknife out of his shorts, slitting the box open before you can say a word.

You stand there mortified and unable to speak as Joel opens the flaps, pushes aside the cushioning packets, and stares at the huge assortment of boxed sex toys.

"Well, well, darlin'. What do we have here?" His voice is a mixture of amusement and something deep and growling. Predatory.

Your face burns in embarrassment. "You… you can go now," you manage to squeak. "Please."

"Don't think so, sweetheart. Gotta check that everythin's in good working order." His boxknife shicks open the first product, a G-spot vibe from the looks of the box. Just before he can unwrap it, you find your voice. You hope you sound self-assured and assertive.

"That's enough. Please leave. My husband will be home any minute."

Joel smirks as he continues to rifle through the box. "Naw. He won't. Just did my route on Pine Street and saw him gettin' busy with that blonde divorcee in the cul-de-sac. Miz Perkins, wasn't it? Big tits."

It's a gut punch, and it makes you forget that this suddenly skeezy mailman is in your home and looking at your new collection of sex toys. An affair? He wouldn't. Not YOUR husband. Not your husband who rarely wants to do anything interesting in bed…

"Sorry, darlin." Joel pulls you out of your thoughts. "Fuck that guy. Wanna have some fun?" He pulls the vibe out of the box and waves it in front of you with a lopsided smirk.

This is too much to deal with. Your head is spinning, a mixture of emotions running through you. Including lust, incredibly enough. This mailman appears to be the take-charge dominant you wish your husband was.

"No. Like I said, you can leave now." You manage to say it firmer this time despite the gushing between your thighs. "Just go."

"Think I'll stay," he says, crossing the space between you in one step and pushing you backwards onto the sofa. "Don't want me reporting your ol' man to the authorities, now do ya?"

"Wha… what?"

He chuckles at your comically large-eyed look of shock. "Yeah, know all about it. Been readin' yer mail," he says matter-of-factly. "He's shit at covering his tracks. Who sends fake invoices through the mail? With his real address too. Amazin' he hasn't been caught yet."

"You've been reading our mail?! I should report you!" Who is this guy?

Joel looms menacingly over your prone figure. You didn't dare move. "Sure, darlin. Postal employees got a responsibility to report crime. I'll be fine," he smiles, leaning back a little, but not enough for you to escape. "But the Postmaster General don't take too kindly to mail fraud, or those aidin' and abettin'. That's a felony."

"But it's not a felony for a mailman to read people's mail?"

"Tell you what," he drawls, still in that matter-of-fact tone that should be so very wrong in this situation. He rifles through the box and pulls out a hot pink butt plug, wiggling it at you. "You're gonna let me try out some of these toys on ya, and I won't report him."

Blackmail shouldn't turn you on, shouldn't turn anyone on, but it does. You're only human, and besides, you definitely don't want to go to prison. You can't control your reaction as your upper half shrinks back into the sofa while your lower half stretches out towards Joel, the hem of your sundress hiking up like it has a mind of its own. He gives you a wolfish grin and rests a broad, heavy hand on your knee.

"Jus' what I thought, sweetheart. Seen you watchin' me out the window every mornin'. You been wantin' me to stuff your pretty little mailslot, haven't ya?"

A whimper escapes your throat. "Yes. Please," you whisper, thighs sticky between your panties and suddenly aching.

"Okay, honey. Gonna start easy with this lil' thing." He holds up a clit sucker, shaped like a penguin with a little pink bow around its neck, and switches it on to test it. It springs into life immediately. "Ah, great. Love how companies pre-charge things now-a-days."

How can he be so conversational about this? Does he blackmail all the married women in the neighbourhood? Well, maybe just the ones who have something to hide. Like you. You silently thank the heavens for sending you an attractive skeeze, at least. And Joel is so very, very attractive.

You spread your legs for him.

He ruches your sundress up your thighs and whistles appreciatively, the sound going straight to your core. "No panties? And gushin' out of that tight little snatch already? Didn't take ya for such a filthy girl."

"It's… it's hot out," you stammer, unable to think straight.

"About to get hotter," he smirks again, and damn that attitude is doing things for you. "You ready, sweetheart?"

You nod, and he keeps eye contact as he nestles your clit into the little penguin's mouth and switches it on.

Your back arches and you nearly scream out loud.

The sensation is warm, and there's no direct contact but it's like your clit is being gently suckled. You've never felt anything like it. It's only been three seconds and your hips are already squirming to chase more.

His hand presses lightly on your hip to give you something to brace against as he clicks the intensity button up a couple notches, and it's like waves upon waves of the absolute perfect pressure on your clit. The buildup in your core is so fast that you don't even realize you're coming until it's almost over. You also hadn't noticed that you'd grabbed his muscled forearm and sunk your nails into it, leaving little half-moon indentations in his tanned skin.

"That was… wow." Your gasps echo around the quiet sitting room. Joel doesn't say a word, just reverently watches your pussy pulse and gush out a few drops of slick. "Thanks." You wish it had lasted longer and were sad it was over. Oh well, a nice memory for the next time you think about Joel, or try out some of these toys with your husband.

You start to push your sundress down, assuming he'll leave now and half-grateful for it, but he grabs your shoulder and forces you back down into the pillows.

"Where you off to? I'm just gettin' started with you, darlin'."

"But…."

"But nothin'. Ain't done till I say so."

All you can do is stare at him, unsure if you should be angry, turned on, or plotting an escape.

He undoes his leather belt and slowly, threateningly, slides it out through the loops on his uniform shorts. "Don't make me use this, sweetheart. Gonna be a good girl for me now, ain't ya?" The depth and tone of his voice say he isn't joking.

You gulp, still tingly from your rapid orgasm. And ready for another one, you think as you make eye contact with Joel, feeling a bit bolder now. We're here, I let him do that much already, might as well go for it.…

The penguin gets discarded as Joel carelessly tosses it to the carpet and takes the hot pink butt plug out of the box again, running a finger along the curve of its long but slim length. "Hmmm. Pretty. This for you, or your husband?"

"Uh… me…"

"Ah, ah" he tuts. "You really are a nasty girl. You take one of these before?"

You shake your head, suddenly shy. You hadn't even wanted your husband to know about the butt plug, thinking he was so sexless that he'd be disgusted. Apparently not, if he's railing Ms Perkins with the big tits over on Pine Street.

"S'okay. Gonna slide it in real good for ya." While you shove a little sofa pillow under your hips, Joel combs through the box on the coffee table and pulls out a bottle of lube. He pops the cap and drizzles some over the plug, and you gulp again imagining it inside your ass. A faint scent of synthetic vanilla fills the air and for some reason it calms you, allowing you to relax your muscles as Joel slides the plug along your crack, rubbing and smearing the lube around your asshole.

"You like that?"

You do. You really do.

Your little moan spurs him on and he gently presses the generously lubed tip of the plug against your hole, just the teensiest bit. You look up at his face, that stupidly attractive face of a skeezy mailman who is sexually blackmailing you, and find yourself desperately wanting to feel his scruff on your inner thighs.

Apparently he's a mind reader, too. He smiles and lowers his head to your crotch, and licks your clit with his wide tongue at the same moment he presses a bit more of the plug into your ass. You nearly scream for the second time in minutes.

"That's it, honey," he breathes against your core, wiggling the tip of the plug in and out and hitting nerves you didn't even know existed back there, making your hips jump involuntarily. "Openin' up so nice for me."

A few more mind-numbing, distracting licks of your clit and the plug slides all the way in with a little pop. You're equal parts turned on and proud.

"Well, ain't that a pretty sight," Joel whistles appreciatively. He pulls up to sit back and just stares at you all spread out on the sofa with one leg hiked over the back, your sundress balled up over your stomach. He taps the pink flared base of the plug a few times like he's idly flicking away a cigarette. It wiggles inside you and you squirm and squeal. Actually squeal. You're still mad and weirded out and other things, but you're feeling too good to give up now and you're starting to not care how easily you're caving to this man.

"Lessee what other treats we got in here." He rifles through the box again. His face falls into a comical droop of sadness and he sighs loudly, holding up a little box marked 'Girth Extender Sleeve'.

"Oh, sweetheart. I'm so sorry." The condescension in his voice shouldn't turn you on this much. "Yer old man got a tiny dick? Not fuckin' you proper? No wonder you been starin' at me every day, desperate for a real man."

Before you can protest -- he's not tiny, I just wanted to spice things up, well okay maybe he could use a bit of help -- he unzips his uniform shorts and pulls out his hard cock, holding it at the base so you can take a good look. "Got a special delivery for ya, baby."

Yeah, Joel definitely doesn't need any artificial enhancement.

His cock is thick. Not super long, but probably one of the thickest you've seen, outside the few porn films you watched when you were younger and more uninhibited. There's foreskin covering what looks like a large mushroom head, and a prominent pulsing vein running up one side. It all looks delicious, and you unconsciously lick your lips as he smirks at how you take it all in.

"You want it real bad, dontcha?" He fists himself a few times, his foreskin sliding on the downstroke to give you a peek at the thick head. "Yeah, you sure do. Never knew I had such a little slut livin' on my route."

Shuffling forward, he grabs your thighs and spreads them wider. The head of his cock feels impossibly heavy as he slaps it on your clit, making you gush a little with every hit.

"Joel, will you… can you lick me again for a bit?" Your squeaky voice is impossibly needy and pathetic.

"Naw," he says, flicking the base of the butt plug again and making your hips jump. The plug was so comfortable that you'd already forgotten it was in there. "Gotta finish my route. Can't talk to customers with my face smellin' of pussy, ya know. I'm representin' the United States Postal Service out there."

"Oh, does the USPS regularly fuck its customers too?"

"Sure does, darlin'. Bends 'em over and gives it to 'em hard with the price hikes every year."

He roughly pulls you up and bends you over the sofa arm, positioning you like the personal little fuckdoll you are for him.

"Got the next best thing though." He slips on a tiny purple fingertip vibe, your free gift from the toy company for such a large order. With such thick fingers, it looks like he's wearing an upside-down Ring Pop. It gives a loud rumble when he switches it on, and he laughs as he tugs his shorts down over his thighs. "Cheap ass shit. Hope the battery lasts. But it don't take you long anyway, right sweetheart?" He reaches around your hips, lifts your sundress and presses the vibe straight on your bare clit without any preamble, and your hips slam backwards into his crotch as you scream again, his cock jostling the base of the butt plug and sending shockwaves both up and down your core at the same time.

"Yeah. Thought so."

Amid the mixed sensations suddenly comes a new one: the thick head of his cock slipping into your cunt as he swirls the vibe around your clit, not letting it rest in any one spot long enough for your liking.

"… Wait! No condom?"

"Naw. You're on the pill, right?" He doesn't wait for your answer, as if he already knows.

Normally you don't enjoy this position but you're too far gone now, pushing your hips back and encouraging him deeper in, more than wet enough from all the playing to take him in.

"Greedy little slut, ain't ya?" He feeds you another inch, pauses, then another, torturously slow as you stretch around his thickness. "Tight little snatch feels so good. Miz Perkins with the big tits probably don't feel this sweet." Joel demeaning your husband like this and throwing the adultery in your face should make you mad -- at both of them -- but it only turns you on more, beads of sweat dripping down your spine as he slides all the way in to the hilt, giving you a few moments of grace to adjust to the size of him.

One strap falls down your shoulder, letting your tit pop out of your sundress and he palms it roughly, giving it an exploratory squeeze. The finger vibe is still buzzing and he swipes it across your nipple, the nubby texture chafing just before the point of pain. "Nice. You like that? Let's add somethin'."

Mentholated 'arousal balm' was another of your free gifts, and not something you'd ever thought to try. Joel twists open the little tin and dips the finger vibe in it.

"That smells strong, do we have to?" Wooziness hits you as the peppermint smell goes straight up your nostrils.

"Like I said, baby, gotta make sure everythin' works. Else I gotta do a return," chides Joel, tossing the tiny tin on the floor. You watch it roll under the baseboard heater as he grabs your hips roughly and repositions you. "Real fucking pain, returns. Lotsa paperwork."

He brings the now-mentholated finger vibe back to your clit, and two seconds later it feels like your entire pussy is on fire.

Thank goodness he didn't put any on my a--

Joel moves the base of the butt plug aside and presses the finger vibe against your asshole.

The menthol soaks into your tender membranes and it's so, so cold and hot at the same time. Your brain melts along with it.

Everything is lit up now and you squirm as he slides his hardness back into your pussy and gives a few experimental thrusts. "Tight fuckin' snatch," he mutters, your walls clenching around him in time with his finger flicking at the plug, your entire lower half burning but not in a terrible way. "But could be tighter." He suddenly pulls his cock out and you whine, loudly and needily.

"Please, Joel."

"Please what, darlin'?"

"Put… put it back in? Please."

"All in good time. Gotta give those walls an extra little stamp."

You look over your shoulder to see him drizzling lube into the girth sleeve and slipping it onto his cock. He's already so thick that it's a tight fit, the soft tube slipping off a couple times before he finally stretches it enough so it can slide all the way on, pulling it down so his large head pokes out of the top. You clench involuntarily.

"Umm. That's not gonna fit."

"Sure it will, honey," he drawls. "Didn't think you could take that pretty little pink plug, right? And look at ya now."

He's got a point.

"Gonna stuff that little slot full to the brim and turn ya into a size queen. Open wide, baby."

He's merciless as he slides back inside, at a curved angle since you're turned slightly to brace both your hands against the back of the sofa. The extender is smooth and feels just like his skin, and you're powerless to resist the incredible feeling of the extra width. He was exactly right: you felt full. With the thick pressure in your cunt pushing against the plug in your ass, you felt more stuffed than you ever had in your life, and what's more your pussy is still burning from the menthol balm. It was overwhelming but also glorious. In that second you knew it would be impossible not to think of Joel next time your husband fucked you, even if he wore this toy. Stupid sexy blackmailing mailman.

Baby animals had more stability in their legs than you do right now, your thighs spasming uncontrollably as Joel palms the vibe around your clit while holding almost half your waist in the span of his other large paw. He fucks into you hard from behind until you're so close to coming you can taste it. With the extender, his cock is hitting spots inside you that you didn't even know you had. A heavy chain pops out of the neck of his polo shirt and hits your nape with a loud clank as he slams into you from behind, the cheap poly-rayon blend of his polo shirt chafing your shoulders in a delicious burn as his chest presses close against your back and his hips smack against your ass, jostling the butt plug with every thrust.

whirrrrrr goes the finger vibe as the tiny cheap battery dies, and he slaps your clit hard with the vibe one, two, three times and you come, yelling for the nth time since he left his bootprints on your welcome mat that morning. His grunts are loud and lewd as he fucks you through it, easing up only to make his thrusts shallower so he can reach a hand between you and gently pull out the butt plug with a little 'pop'. He tosses it and the finger vibe onto your pristine off-white carpet, not even bothering to aim for the opened box on the coffee table.

"So fuckin' tight," he wheezes hoarsely, "I gotta extra big load for ya," and he presses his hips so hard against your ass that you almost fall over the sofa arm, his voice faltering as he groans and you feel hot spurts of his come coating the inside of your pussy, as deep as he can put it.

You slump forward onto the sofa and he pulls out, both of you heaving. The fiery balm has mellowed to a gentle tingle and your core is pleasantly warm. Stretched out. Fucked out.

"Welp, gotta get back to my route." It's been only a minute and his matter-of-fact conversational tone has already returned. You peer over your shoulder and watch him pull his shorts back on, rolling up the hems and slicking his belt back into the loops, tucking his polo shirt back in with practiced efficiency.

"Will I see you again?" You hate how pathetic you sound, and you must be a real sight too, half naked with a sweaty rolled-up sundress stuck to your back, your ass still up in the air like you're waiting for him to stick it right back in and rail you again immediately.

"Oh, I'm sure we'll be seein' each other again real soon," he says smoothly.

As you stand up, knees a little weak, a drop of cum drips down your thighs. "Glad I'm on the pill," you mutter to yourself as you pat down your wrinkled sundress and pause at the mess of packaging and boxes littering your sitting room.

"About that, darlin'." Joel smiles, pausing by your front door. "Miz Perkins over on Pine Street orders sugar pills and well, you know, packages get mixed up sometimes on the route. Might wanna check you got the right pills."

Joel slams the door and the mail slot squeaks rhythmically as you stand there, horrified, listening to him whistle a jaunty tune as he walks down your driveway and back to his mail route.

[dira333]

Good things come to those who wait - Kirishima x Reader

I don't know why but this was really hard for me to write. I hope you still enjoy it - @crimsonredlotus

"You good?" Mina's waving a hand in front of his eyes, back and forth, back and forth. "Never saw you zone out like that before, not even when they announced Crimson Riot becoming a playable character in the Hero Nights Multiplayer Game."

"I just saw the most beautiful girl in the world," he stammers, eyes still locked on the door you disappeared through. "Like... Oh, no, that was superficial, wasn't it? Like, I swear she's probably super smart and incredibly talented, but I just- I noticed- I swear I don't care about looks that much!"

"Relax," Mina slings an arm around his shoulder, "You're still manly. Now, describe her to me. I need the deets."

-

"Did you see that?" Yukie asks, giggling. "The redhead couldn't believe his eyes when he saw you. I swear, there were hearts dancing around his head."

"You're exaggerating," you tell her off, though your heart still beats a little faster. He'd been cute, really cute, with his red hair and flushed face, wide grin, and open posture. Like sunshine poured into a human being, but that might just be your imagination. You didn't know him, after all.

-

"Okay, so she's one of the business class students," Mina recalls, "She's getting good grades, and the teachers like her a lot. I think I've heard Ectoplasm call her by her first name and he's really picky with that."

"Sounds kinda boring," Bakugo declares as Kirishima presses both hands to his mouth to hide his glee. "See!" He preens, "I knew she was special. I bet she has an awesome quirk too." He falters immediately. "Oh, but that means she won't be interested in me."

"No, no, we don't think like that here," Mina bonks him on the head with her fist. "You've got great qualities, not to mention a solid body to show off. And you're a nice person, unlike some other people here." She glares at Bakugo who only snorts.

"So now that we know her name and her class, how are you planning to go over it," Sero asks, leaning in, "Business Class isn't all that interested in Hero Class. They think we're stuck up."

"I can't just go over there and ask her out!" Kirishima wails, "That would be totally unmanly. What if she feels pressured to say yes? I could never live with that."

"I'm going to infiltrate their friend group and get the intel," Mina promises. "Jirou, you're with me."

-

You blink in surprise when two girls slide into the seats across from you and Yukie.

"Do we... know you?" You ask, a little concerned by the bright smile on the pink-skinned girl's face. The other one looks like she might not be here on her own accord.

"Oh, we're from the Hero Class. We just wanted to get to know you people a bit better. How are you? What are your names? What are you learning in Class?"

"Which Hero Class?" You ask.

"1A of course, the best one!"

"Ah, so you've got Aizawa-Sensei as homeroom teacher?"

"The man, the mystery, you name it. I'm Mina, by the way." She offers you her hand and you shake it, albeit a bit reluctantly.

"Say, do you have any cute boys in your Class?" Mina leans in, "Because we might have some cute boys in our Class but they're just not my style, if you know what I mean."

You share a look with Yukie. She smiles. "Oh, yes, we do have some hotties. Look," she pulls out her phone to showcase the class photo you had to take a week ago. "This one's already taken though," she points out. And he eats his snot as a way to power his quirk. I'm not one to Quirkshame, but that's kinda disgusting."

"Oh, talking about Quirks," Mina flashes yet another smile. "Mine is Acid and Jirou's here is Earphone Jack. What are yours?"

Your smile tightens. "I'm Quirkless," you point out, waiting for the usual reaction. Mina's smile falters for a millisecond.

"Oh, I'm... sorry, I guess? I don't know if you feel bad about it, but I don't really think you need a Quirk to succeed-"

"Unless you want to be a hero," you point out calmly, grabbing your plate. "I need to get back to Class."

"No, wait," Mina's standing now, "I need to know if you think Kirishima is cute."

"Mina!" Jirou hisses. "That's not subtle at all."

"Maybe, but I'm not going without an answer." Mina stomps her foot and you throw her a look.

"I don't know who this Kirishima is, but I don't care for boys who cannot ask me questions themselves. And if you feel threatened by my existence, don't bother. I don't care about the Hero Class anyway."

"You really are a good liar," Yukie exclaims once you're out of earshot of the girls, "I might have even believed that myself had I not known you're crushing a teensy bit for that redhead from the Hero Department."

"Let's just hope he's not in Mina's Class," you tell her, looking back. To your surprise, Jirou's looking directly at you.

-

"Dad?" You ask after Dinner, sliding into the small space between him and the front door, "Can I ask you a Question?"

"Sure can, Bean," he pats your head before taking a seat on the stairs. "What's the matter?"

"Mina Ashido came to see me at Lunch today."

"Mina?" He looks surprised. "What did she want?"

"I'm not sure, she was all over the place asking questions. But she mentioned someone from her Class... Kirishima, I think?"

"Ah yes, they're friends. What about him?"

"What does he look like?"

Your Stepdad blinks. "Why do you wanna know?"

"For reasons I cannot disclose."

He laughs softly. "Alright, alright. Red hair, shark teeth. Does that answer your question? You don't look too happy about that answer."

"Is he nice?"

He ponders that question for a moment. "He's not the smartest and his Quirk is better for Defense, which clearly troubles him, but he's pretty social and gets along with everyone in Class. Why do you ask?"

Now... how to answer that? If you say he has a crush on you, will that fall back on him? Your Dad is his teacher after all. And if you say you have a crush on him, won't your Dad just end up embarrassing you? You want to do nothing but forget it, but your Middle School Crush is still fresh in your mind, or rather, how your Father tried to threaten him into going on a Date with you.

"Never mind," you lie, "I was just curious. Have a safe Patrol, okay?"

"Okay," he leans down to press a kiss to your temple, "Don't stay up too late, okay?"

"Aye Aye, Eraserhead."

- - -

"Hey, ehm..." You turn at the call of your name, surprised to see Kirishima. You thought the Hero Classes would only come back to school next week.

"Hey," you give him a small smile. He deserves it, after all you've heard. "Glad to see you're alive and well."

"About that, yeah, I-" He stops, takes a deep breath, "I heard from Eri that you're... that you're Aizawa-Sensei's daughter."

You tense a little, but you nod. "Stepdaughter, to be exact. He does collect us like Pokemon, it seems."

Kirishima laughs softly at that. "How is he? Last I heard he got released from the Hospital."

"He's adapting," you shrug, unsure what to say. "Mom keeps making him a ton of food, so we're all gaining weight. He keeps forgetting to put his new foot on, so I often stumble over it. It's... eh..." you halt, take a breath, "It's good to have him back."

"I can imagine. I hope he... I don't wanna assume, but-"

"He's coming back as a teacher," you nod, "He'd never leave a class behind. Least of all you. He's very fond of you guys."

"Ah," Kirishima rubs the back of his head, "We're not that special. Annoying, yes. But not special."

You smile. It's easier now, talking to him, without the pretense and the Chaos of who likes who, of High School Rumours and all the Gossip.

"Kirishima? Would you... like to get something to drink?"

-

"What?" Midoriya blinks. "I missed all of that? I wasn't in the hospital for that long."

"Longer," Bakugo harrumphs before stuffing his face again. You'd been a little scared of him before, but Kirishima had vouched for him, calling him a softie with the prickliest attitude.

"Ah, Sorry, sorry." Midoriya grins, reddening. "So glad to be back though. How's Eri, by the way."

"Great," you smile, pressed into Kirishima's side. You haven't been official for long, but he's the touchiest person you know. "She's found a few friends in school that she keeps bringing home. One of them, Kota, is a huge fan of me for reasons I still haven't found out."

"Ah," Kirishima grins, "That's because you're Quirkless. He thinks you're like Midoriya."

"Like..." You blink at the green-haired boy who defeated All For One mere months ago. "Why?"

Midoriya laughs, cheeks now as red as Kirishima's hair. "Long Story."

[twice-in-a-blue-moon]

Solomon x GN! reader

Warning: suggestive

Minors DNI!

It's too early in the morning as you mindlessly shuffle your way to the kitchen with the smell of coffee in the air coaxing you along. Being one of two occupants in the dormitory leads you to the conclusion that Solomon's already awake.

Your foot hardly makes it past the threshold, immediately stopping as your eyes land on him -- back turned towards you, leaning over the counter rubbing his eyes with a yawn while he waits for the coffee to brew. The only thing adorning this body is a pair of boxer briefs, so that means you're getting quite the eyeful of his glorious pact marks.

What a wonderful morning already.

As quietly as you can, you sneak up behind him and wrap your arms around him. His muscles tense at the sudden touch, though he quickly relaxes when he realizes it's you.

"Good morning," he says in a deep, raspy morning voice that drives you to near insanity. You can almost hear the smile in his words, knowing it's already made his morning just by being in your arms.

You place a little kiss on his shoulder. "Good morning to you, Sol."

That's when your hands begin to wander along his torso, feeling the smooth skin beneath your own, following all the little dips and curves. You go so far as to push your hands beneath the waistline of his boxers so your palms lay flat against his hip bones. You notice Solomon's breathing growing heavier from your exploring.

He chuckles lowly, "what are you doing?"

"Mm," you hum as you continue to pepper kisses along his shoulders and up the nape of his neck, while your hands rub up and down the sides of his pelvis, "just appreciating the morning's gifts."

This makes him groan softly and his arousal to grow steadily.

"You know what you're doing. And it makes me want to do more than just appreciate you." Solomon turns to grab a hold of your hips, spinning you around until you're pushed against the counter he'd been previously leaning on.

You're stuck between two forces who do not intend to budge, a rock and a hard man...place, if you will.

His face draws in closer to yours, his breath fanning across your skin and the warmth of his lips brushing against your own. There's a fire burning in his eyes that almost feels misplaced, as if the deep blue within them could drown out anything that wasn't soft admiration for you. But it's a look you've seen before, one you'd gladly see over and over.

A sly grin tugs on your lips as you decide to push him one last time, knowing what's to come if you do.

Your hands slide up along his broad shoulders before letting your fingers travel down to the pact mark that's occupying the area of his collarbone. Then, out of nowhere, your tongue makes contact with his salty skin, tracing along the lines of the pact mark in a fluid motion. Solomon's knees nearly buckle as he shudders from your intimate touch.

"Fuck it. You're not going anywhere until I'm done with you." he growls, pinning you harder against the counter, and grabbing your face between needy hands to smash his hungry lips against yours.

Indeed. What an even better morning it's become.

[soracities]

since this seems like a place full of wise and whimsical people: i'm constantly seeing pleas online for young depressed people to remember that the freedom of adulthood and maturing into a fully realized person is infinitely better than adolescence (especially in the context of queerness which does make sense to me.) but i look at the actual real adults i know in my family and they're all constantly stressed by money, they wish they had chosen different things in life, they miss being taken care of as children, and honestly they're still really immature on some levels. i'm getting very close to leaving home and it seems like i'm missing most of the maturing experiences that other people get; it's never been logistically viable for me to have a job or a car, and i've never had to feed myself day by day. is there something i need to be doing now that will give me a genuinely freeing and fulfilling experience as an independent adult?

Every adult you meet (and you and your friends will be included in this), regardless of maturity level, is a former child in some regard; and as such how they act, respond, and cope with the world around them is a throwback to whatever they still carry from their childhood, or from the things that impacted them most in life, and whether or not they were able to adequately deal with them (and some do deal with them, and some refuse, and some are just in circumstances that make it difficult to even begin with).

I think what people mean when they say adulthood is better than adolescence is that the world get bigger, wider, and more interesting as you get older. It becomes less insular and all the things that preoccupy you most when you're 17 or 15 or that feel like the end of the world become diminished because you have a larger frame of reference for that world that goes beyond your school / friends / immediate family etc. It doesn't mean adulthood is not without difficulty, but simply that you won't be 17 forever. And as such you won't be stuck with all the things you hate about yourself at 17 forever either.

I don't know if there are any specific things you can do, because freeing and fulfilling mean different things to different people. There are some experiences / realisations you can only have when you are out on your own, true--but I also think maturity or maturing events are not necessarily only external ones, though those have an impact too: they come from getting to know yourself, facing your insecurities and flaws and limitations with unfiltered honesty and learning to understand these and work through them and learning to do the same with other people, too. Those external experiences can only go so far if you don't have the tools to fully apply what you learn from them.

In the end, the only thing I can really advise, if you have the time and the means, is to devote yourself to some kind of volunteering or community work. I think a great deal of growth comes out of the time you devote not so much to yourself but to others. It will also give you the opportunity to meet and learn from other people whom you may not have the chance to meet in your day-to-day school life. If you're really looking to broaden your experiences of the world around you, then this is one of the most important, in my view at least. Best of luck with it all, anon xx

[sugoi-and-spice]

Taking Care, Taking What's Mine - A "Play Nice" Commission

Summary: A Play Nice AU Chapter, in which, rather than taking the high road and trying to build a real relationship with the girl he's been sextorting for weeks, Tomura Shigaraki baby-traps her instead.

CW: Quirkless!AU, Dub-Con, Smut, Extortion, Baby-Trapping, Forced Pregnancy, Love-Bombing, Manipulation, Power Play, Possessive Shigaraki, Yandere Shigaraki, Morning Sickness, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat

AO3 Link

A/N: Happy fucking Father's Day readers!! Lmao! I got this AMAZING commission a while ago to write an AU of my AU (a fanfic writer's dream come true honestly), of Shigaraki baby-trapping MC and well, while it took longer then I meant it to to come out, I'm so glad that I could post it on Father' Day of all days lmao.

Anyway though, this was so much fun to write. Shigaraki has been on the journey of bettering himself for so long in Play Nice now, it was a total blast returning to form and writing him nice and scummy again.

I'd love to do more of these honestly, so as a reminder: I give discounts on Commissions that take place in my AU's.

Play Nice, Burnt Bridges, Step by Step -- all of them. They're super fun for me to write and most of the heavy-lifting of ideating and plotting has already been done for them, so I'm happy to write fics like this for cheaper. :)

Anyway, enjoy some forced parentification on this day of dads. xD

“Hey, hey— are you alright?”

She lifted her head from where she’d been resting it against her gym locker, the coolness of the metal being the first thing to even remotely ease the headache she’d been fighting for the last three days. 

“Yeah, of course,” she tried to force a weak smile as Nejire approached her, clearly concerned, “Why do you ask?

The captain was dressed in her practice suit. And she quickly realized that so were all the other girls, most of them already making their way out the doors to the pool deck. She was the lone straggler who hadn’t even managed to undo her uniform tie yet. Nejire looked over at these girls, and then back to her, wordlessly demonstrating why that should be obvious.

She laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of her head, “Okay, I guess I’m feeling a bit under the weather today…”

And that was the understatement of the century. She felt like absolute shit . Piling on top of that stubborn pounding in her head were a pair of really sore tits, a lethargy that stuck with her no matter how much vending machine coffee she chugged, and cramps that had shot straight out of hell and directly into her uterus.

But to be honest, she couldn’t complain too much about these ailments. In fact, she was pretty damn relieved. These were all her tell-tale signs of PMS. They were a little worse than usual this time around sure, but if that was the tradeoff for the relief of not being pregnant, she’d take it in a heartbeat. Her period was only one day late at this point and it had all but paralyzed her with fear.

Of course in retrospect, the fear did seem a bit silly. After all, Shigaraki’s creepy family doctor had warned her there might be some changes.

“I never start patients new to birth control immediately on a Long Acting Reversible Contraception,” he explained, “Especially not teenagers.”

“Why not?” she demanded, “It’s reversible, right? It’s not like you’re tying my tubes or anything.”

“No, but you never know how your body is going to react to the hormonal shift. You could develop acne, weight gain, hair growth—”

“I don’t care about that superficial stuff.”

“... Migraines, blood clots, depression,” he continued, looking at her pointedly.

She looked away, feeling a bit stupid for interrupting him now that he’d listed the more serious side-effects.

“I’m not saying you have to stay on the pill forever. But give it a few months, see how you feel on it. It can help us better determine which long-term birth control is best for your body without any unnecessarily invasive procedures.”

She shuddered at the very thought of being stuck in this set-up with Shigaraki for months. She hoped he’d get bored of her sooner rather than later.

Well, on the brightside, at least this sketchy-ass doctor seemed to be as interested in looking under her skirt as she was having him down there. However, this still left the ever so pertinent issue of:

“Okay, but there’s still the issue of getting the pills. No pharmacy is going to give me these without signed parental consent.” She had the always convenient Japanese purity culture to thank for that.

Ujiko simply smiled and pulled out a wheel of birth control pills from his medical bag right then and there.

“Consider these the same as this appointment,” he said, cupping his hands over hers and placing the wheel firmly into her palm, “ Off the record. ”

And then the rest of the “appointment” had descended into one of extremely thinly-veiled intimidation that bizarrely enough, she’d relied on Shigaraki of all people to save her from. By that point, she’d been scared so shitless she had very little argument left in her to try and reason him into just giving her the damn IUD.

The regret of not standing her ground on the issue did hit her later that night on the train home. Particularly when she thought over the fact that the way they were keeping these pills off the record was by having her pick up her refills through Shigaraki. The idea of giving him even more power over her like that made her feel sick to her stomach. And yes, while logically she knew that he had just as much motivation to keep her from getting pregnant as she did (she had a feeling All for One would not take too kindly to his star successor knocking up a lowly commoner such as herself), she still just had a bad feeling about the whole thing.

So she’d resolved herself on her first refill day to completely lay into Shigaraki for any level of tomfoolery he may get up to in this situation. There would be no forgetting, no being too busy to pick up the pills for her, absolutely nothing. She was ready to rain full fire and brimstone on him if there was even a hint of bullshit.

But to her surprise (and relief), she hadn’t even crossed the threshold of his bedroom before he was tossing a new pack to replace her wheel with. Simple and nonchalant, and then he was just as quick as always to badger her about getting her clothes off already, get on the bed already, break up with your boyfriend already.

It was the same old, same old — for better or for worse. Even if she couldn’t trust Tomura Shigaraki himself, that action had at least ensured that she could trust his own desire for self-preservation.

And that was better than nothing she supposed.

Back in the locker room, Nejire asked her, “Do you think you’re coming down with something?”

She smiled at her friend, joking, “Nothing I don’t come down with every month.”

Nejire tilted her head in confusion for a moment before the lightbulb visibly lit up in her head.

“Ohhhhh,” Nejire nodded sympathetically, “Yeah, Aunt Flow can be a real meanie sometimes, huh?”

She laughed, then winced as the action worsened the throbbing in her head,  “Damn it— you can say that again.”

Nejire’s brows furrowed and she brought a hand to the small of her friend’s back, “Hey, why don’t you take this afternoon off?”

She looked back to her, surprised, “Oh no, I couldn’t…”

“Sure you could!” Nejire chirped, “And honestly, you probably should. We’re working on our weakest strokes today. I had you down to work on your fly.”

Visible dread filled her as she thought about doing that much undulation in her current state.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Nejire laughed, “Seriously, go home. We’ll miss you, but we love you too. So we want you to take care of yourself.”

She debated a little more internally, one other loose thread dropping into her mind’s eye.

“If I do… Do you mind—”

“I’ll let Mirio know,” she shot her a wink as she clarified, “ After practice. I’ll let him know you just need the peace and quiet.”

She smiled at Nejire, genuinely grateful. This. This right here was what made all of the bending over backwards she did to fit in and please others worth it. To be cared about by such a good person. 

The warmth of that care stayed with her all the way out to the school gates, where she was then immediately filled with dread upon realizing that she’d need to go in one of two directions depending on where she was going after school: the train station home, or the walk to Shigaraki’s.

And just which direction she was scheduled to go today.

She let out a long groan, anguished and loud enough to startle a couple members of the going home club that passed her. For once though, she didn’t care about her reputation, she was too focussed on what a goddamn nightmare she was falling into.

She pulled out her cellphone with a sigh. Yes she knew the effort was probably futile, but damn her if she didn’t at least try.

Yup. She could’ve seen that coming from a mile away. She sighed as she shoved her phone back into her bag and started the very slow trek over to Shigaraki’s. 

“Wow, you weren’t kidding,” Shigaraki said as he looked her over his doorway, “You look like shit.”

She shot him a wholly unimpressed look as she shoved past him into his bedroom.

“Yeah, I fucking told you.” 

Shigaraki, surprisingly, didn't have anything to say about her tone, even with her brusqueness towards him being more than usual. He just watched her drop down face first onto his bed and curl her legs up into her chest.

She sighed at the slight relief the position gave her. While dealing with Shigaraki’s antics was about the last thing she wanted right now, she supposed that at least she could be grateful for how much closer his apartment was to her school then her own home was. It saved her a good fifty-minutes of white-knuckling a train stanchion to keep down her groans of pain. Now at least she could get the relief of laying down much sooner.

If only for a little bit.

“What’s going on?”

She bristled at Shigaraki’s voice, the unwelcome reminder that she wasn’t going to be able to truly relax right now. And while there didn’t seem to be any entendre or even impatience in his question, the fact that his voice was getting closer to her was enough to make her suspicious.

“My head aches, my back aches, my boobs ache — everything aches,” she grumbled down into his sheets, “And I feel like I’ve been donkey-kicked straight in the uterus.”

“You start your period or something?”

He didn’t sound sarcastic when he asked it, not that typical boy way of asking any time a girl did something they considered “moody”. It was a genuine question. But it irritated her all the same. 

Everything seemed to be irritating her these days.

“About to,” she answered, “It’s like a day late, but it’s definitely coming.”

She felt the bed shift a bit as he sat next to her.

“Are you nauseous at all?”

Her brows furrowed, a bit confused by the interest.

“I guess a little,” she answered, because even though it was mild, there was a certain turn in her stomach that wasn’t unlike motion sickness, “But honestly, I think it’s just from the pain. This has been going on for like three days.”

“Have you taken anything for it?”

She could’ve laughed if she wasn’t so annoyed by the reminder of all her futile attempts to alleviate this. Because of course he was looking for a quick fix so they could fuck already.

“I’ve taken everything for it,” she groaned, “Nothing’s working.”

He just hummed in response, and then she could feel the sheets behind her dip a bit as he repositioned himself. Into what orientation, she wasn’t sure. She was about to turn her head back and ask him what he was doing when she felt his hand featherlight across her hip.

And between her legs.

“No, Shigaraki please,” she whined, pulling he knees closer into her chest, “I’m not kidding, I’m seriously in a lot of pain—”

“I’m not doing anything.”

“Tell that to your hand then,” she snapped as his fingers tried to wiggle their way between her clenched thighs.

“I mean I’m not doing anything for me. This is for you.”

“Oh is it now,” she deadpanned.

“I’m not gonna fuck you,” he insisted, more irritably this time, “Orgasms help with cramps, right?”

She stilled, sufficiently stumped by that particular statement. Because yes, she could say from experience that they absolutely did. She’d spent many a nasty period with her fingers latched to clit to chase that particular path of relief. 

…but why the hell did Shigaraki know that?

She gasped as she suddenly felt the gentle roll of her clit under three fingers. Apparently, in her moments of distracted deliberation, Shigaraki managed to push his hand past the plush lock of her thighs and under the hem of her panties.

“Sh-Shigaraki…” she whined, pushing her elbow blindly and weakly back towards him.

He caught it gently in his free palm and, rather than trying to pin or strain it in whatever which way he desired, like usual, he just held it there. Didn’t even hold it in place really, just shielded himself against its determined path towards his ribs.

“I’m serious,” he said, uncharacteristically soft, “I’m trying to help you.”

She finally mustered up the strength to — despite how much her aching abdomen hated her for it — turn and glower at Shigaraki.

“No funny business?” she pressed.

He settled his own flat expression on her, “When have I ever been funny?”

More times than she’d like to admit honestly, but she got what he was saying here. He was a pretty serious, straightforward person on principle. He didn’t bullshit, he didn’t pull cheap tricks, and, shockingly enough, he didn’t typically lie. Frustrating as it was, Tomura Shigaraki was pretty much always unapologetically himself and he always did what he wanted.

So if he said that he was doing this to help her, then she supposed that she didn't actually have a lot of reason to distrust him.

Plus, his fingers hadn’t stopped their soft, but affective ministrations between her legs, and the pleasant sparks of heated relief they were sending through her were undeniable.

She turned back onto her side with a sigh that was half-exasperation, half pleasure.

“Fine,” she said, throwing back quickly before he got too victorious, “But fuck around and I’ll kick you.”

Shigaraki just chuckled, a soft throaty sound that shouldn’t have sent the chills up her spine that it did, “Yeah, yeah…”

In one motion, careful not to jostle her too much, Shigaraki both pulled her back and scooched himself closer, until her back was nestled snug against his surprisingly firm chest and her head laid in the crux of his bicep.

With this new closeness he was able to be a bit more deliberate with the angle and pressure he used to rub at her swollen sex. And, while she hated to admit it, the increased blood flow between her legs was causing the pressure within her to build quite a bit faster than usual. Enough so that it had her letting go of the tension in her neck and joints — the automatic stress reaction she had to any of Shigaraki’s displays of intimacy — and letting the weight of her head drop fully into his embrace.

A shuddering sigh left Shigaraki at that clear relinquishing of control, of the way she truly let herself lay back and relax into him. It gave him the encouragement he needed to enjoy her to the fullest extent that he wanted her as well, burying his nose deep into her hair. 

He started to stroke wider circles around her, the flats of his fingers never leaving her clit, but now allowing the tips to dip softly into her entrance. He didn’t push them in at all past his first knuckles, just enough to catch some of that growing wetness and spread it all across her fluttering lips.

“A-Ah—” she gasped out, “Sh-shit…”

“Like that?” he rasped, hot against her ear.

She bit her lip, nodding needily, “Mm— Mm-hmm…”

He groaned at the response, doubling down on that motion as he started to stud long, hot kisses down the back of her jaw and neck. The feeling, so gentle and intimate and good in combination to the way he worked her sex, had her unconsciously rocking her hips into his touch, and back into his own.

Vaguely through the haze, she could feel the familiar outline of his stiff cock against the cleft of her ass, but shockingly he didn’t try to grind it against her for relief. If anything actually, when her own hips moved unconsciously back against it, he actually shifted his own hips away, anglind them down so his erection pushed into the bed instead. As if he didn’t want her to feel it, that he was concerned about her feeling pressured by its presence.

She didn’t have the chance to think too much into that though, not when his fingers were coaxing her closer to the edge by the second. The mess between her legs was obscene at this point, through teary eyes she could see the overflow of it spreading wide across her thighs and pooling down in the sheets. 

“God look at you, so fucking wet,” he groaned, lips having made it down to her shoulder and staying there so that he could have a better view of her writhing under his touch, “You needed this, huh? Fucking needed me…”

She buried her face into his arm to muffle her moans, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of an answer, but also not wanting him to stop.

By some act of God, Shigaraki didn’t push for that answer either. She wasn’t sure why he’d abandoned his typical demands and taunts, didn’t threaten to stop until she gave him the verbal submission and begrudging praise he always wanted. Nor did she stop to think about why, she just let the gratitude course through her, spurred further and wider by the waves of heat rushing through her body, threatening — promising — to overflow.

Shigaraki could feel that axiomatic tension in her body, the boiling point it promised, and sped up his hand to stoke the flames.

“You’re close aren’t you? Oh yeah, you’re close…” his kisses turned to nips at her neck between progressively more demanding growls, “Gonna be a good girl and come for me?”

Fuck, hearing those last words spill from his mouth should not have done what it was doing to her. But it was speeding up her peak, and it was speeding it up audibly.

“Yeah, yeah that’s good, really good. Let it go. Go ahead, be a good girl and let it go.”

She cried out, her arching back forcing her face forward and mouth unmuffled as finally, finally her body went blissfully loose, the pain of the past few days overtaken by waves of heat and pleasure. One after the other, her hormone-driven sensitivity wrung out multiple orgasms, and his frantic fingers were happy to work her through each one until she was begging him to stop.

“Good girl, yeah, yeah, just like that. That’s a good girl,” he continued to praise, returning time and again to that phrase he could feel her getting unconsciously excited over, “That’s my good girl…”

It was just a few blurry moments of consciousness after that. She was pretty sure she whined something like “too much” to him at some point, and he whispered back something that she was sure was just utterly debauched right back. Or maybe it was sweet nothings, he had really favored those by the end of this escapade after all. 

Whatever it all was, she supposed it didn’t matter. All that mattered in those seconds of labored breaths and fluttering lashes was the beautiful bliss and relief that finally overtook her body. That allowed her to immediately fall asleep in his arms.

Shigaraki held her there for a long time after. He raked his eyes greedily across her body, letting himself carve every detail deep into his memory. He knew he didn’t need to, not anymore. Her boyfriend, her parents, hell, whether or not she got into Todai with him, it was all a non-issue now. There was no reason for him to lose this anymore. She wasn’t going anywhere in life without him. He was going to be able to revel in this sight for the rest of his life now. And he just couldn’t believe how lucky he was for that.

He chuckled a bit at that. Well, maybe lucky wasn’t the right word. This was all by design after all, weeks of very deliberate planning and deception. It was just like he’d always been taught. It didn’t matter what hand you’ve been dealt — and Tomura Shigaraki had certainly been dealt a shit hand in a lot of ways — a real winner made his own luck. 

Sensei would be mad, Shigaraki knew that much. Everyone would be mad in fact, but he didn’t care. He was just following the fundamental lesson Sensei himself had instilled in him the day they met. 

Take whatever you want, and fuck all the rest.

Several minutes into hearing those sweet deep breaths of unconsciousness from the beautiful girl in his arms, Shigaraki finally peeled his fingers away from her cunt.

And slid a wide hand up to cradle her tummy.

It was dark when she woke up, not a single one of Shigaraki’s many monitors or television lit the windowless room. That was odd for a couple of reasons, the first of which being that the overhead lighting had definitely been on when she’d dozed off. The second of which was that any time Shigaraki wasn’t preoccupied with helping her study or studying her, he was chronically attached to at least one screen, if not multiple, so it was more than a bit odd for him to have zero on. The reason for the lack of blue light however became quickly apparent as her eyes finally adjusted to the darkness.

Shigaraki wasn’t here.

She was totally alone in his room, alone and tucked into his bed. Had he gone to the bathroom or something? But then why would all the lights be off? It seemed like he’d probably been gone for a while. Weird…

She threw off the covers and flipped her legs around with much more ease than she’d done anything over the last three days, much to her relief. However long she’d been out, the sleep had clearly done her some good. The pounding in her head and pelvis had finally ceased, perhaps just in time for her to actually start her period. She did feel some dampness between her legs after all. Although…

Her face heated up as she remembered the much more likely cause of that.

Damn it, she thought with a groan, dropping her head into her hands. She couldn’t believe that she actually let him do that to her, for her. He was going to get entirely the wrong idea from it. The idea that she might actually like him and want to spend time with him, that there was some kind of connection between them that extended past the time she was required to spend with him to keep him satisfied. And she absolutely could not deal with that.

Being his little sex toy was one thing. A demoralizing thing, yes, but a manageable one. She’d seen the way Shigaraki treated things he objectified — games and magazines and the like. He got bored of them quickly. And if she was one of those things in his eyes, then eventually he’d get bored with her too and she’d be free.

If he was attached to her though? Had found connection in her and a desire to keep her in his life? She didn’t even want to consider that nightmare scenario.

She made her way out into the hallway, looking up and down from the empty bathroom on one end of the hall to the top of the staircase on the other. She didn’t have to contemplate the lack of presence on this floor for long though, when she heard Shigaraki’s voice echoing up from downstairs, talking emphatically to Kurogiri, she assumed. 

She couldn’t hear exactly what he was talking about, but whatever it was, he was being particular about it. “Don’t overcook” and “perfect” were a few of the words she managed to catch, so it was about food, maybe? The accompanying sounds of sizzling pans and clanking cookware would certainly support that. As would the smell that suddenly hit her.

It wasn’t an unpleasant smell by any means. In fact, it was salmon, one of her favorites. But for some reason at that moment, the smell hit her with a particular intensity that made her feel overwhelmed.

And really fucking nauseous.

She just barely made it to the toilet at the end of the hall, not even fully down to her knees by the time she was emptying her stomach into the bowl. It wasn’t just a brief moment of sickness either. The bouts were loud and long, she was sure that it echoed throughout the entire apartment. It left her red-faced, skin covered and hair clumped with sweat, not to mention still gagging long after she had nothing left to gag on.

A hand she barely even noticed came to rest on the small of her back in the midst of it all. It was only in the aftermath, spent and dry-heaving that she could process the fact that it was Shigaraki, kneeling at her side, patiently stroking small circles into her clammy skin and encouraging her softly.

“Let it out. Just let it all out.”

She groaned once she finally seemed to have a solid thirty seconds of dry, steady breath. And Shigaraki used that respite to nudge a glass of water into her hands.

“Here.”

She didn’t argue or agree, just took it from him with shaky hands, tossing half of it just into her mouth to swish around and spit the remaining bitterness from her tongue.

 “Drink some of it too.”

She nodded shakily, still too drained and disoriented to be irritated with his telling her what to do, or suspicious of the fact that he was being so nice. 

And still, as she took entirely too long to finish the rest of her water with timid little sips, he just knelt on the ground with her, moving the hand on her back to rest on her knee, thumb rubbing circles into the spot where a bruise would undoubtedly form. 

Finally, after a long, silent stretch, she managed to croak out, “W-What time is it?”

“Only seven,” he answered, “Kurogiri’s got dinner almost ready downstairs. Seared salmon, brown rice, avocado salad—”

She whined, shaking her head roughly at the very implication of food.

“Don’t like salmon?”

“I-I do… It’s just—” she gagged a little as she remembered that smell that had set this all off in the first place, “Th-The smell right now. It’s too much…”

“Oh yeah…” he nodded understandingly, muttering something to himself that she couldn’t quite make out. It sounded kind of like, “Heightened” and “Read about that…”

Her brows furrowed a bit, frustrated and confused. She was getting the feeling that he was really not telling her something.

“W-What?”

Shigaraki just waved her off, “No, that’s fine, that’s fine. Salmon’s not the only thing he made. There’s sauteed spinach, wakame tofu soup, toasted—” 

Jesus Christ, was Kurogiri cooking for an army down there or something? 

Well, whoever it was all for, and as delicious as it all sounded in theory, imagining those foods in practice right now was making her feel sick all over again.

“Mm-mm, Mm-mm!” she whined, shaking her head again.

She didn’t want to risk opening her mouth right now, lest she blow chunks all over the front of Shigaraki’s shirt. Although wouldn’t that be a nice little serving of karma for him…

“You need to eat something,” he insisted, more lecturey than she’d ever heard him, but with a strange gentleness to his voice as well, “And you need to drink some more too. You’re totally dehydrated.”

She shook her head more emphatically at that, which only resulted in her falling forward into his chest. 

He caught her before she could fall any further, scolding her not too harshly, in fact, a bit whimsically, “Is this how you’re gonna be the whole time?”

She pulled her head back to look at him, a confused furrow in her brows that brought the corners of his lips up.

“It’s not a bad look on you to be honest. All weak and petulant,” he brought a hand to pinch lightly at her cheek, “It’s kinda cute actually.”

Her eyes narrowed, finally feeling her stomach steady enough in her to be annoyed. He chuckled, just as amused and endeared by this look as the last. 

“Well how about okayu?” he offered with a patronizing little lilt, “And maybe some ginger tea?”

He clearly wasn’t going to let this go. And infuriatingly, he was right not to. She definitely was in no shape to go home on this empty stomach. 

She sighed.

“Yeah… Yeah okay.”

Going at her own shaking, snailish pace, Shigaraki helped her up onto her legs, pulling her immediately into his side as he led her back towards his bedroom. Normally she’d protest, stick an elbow right into his ribs and storm on ahead of him, but honestly she needed the help right now. So she sucked it up and let him lead her back into his bed. 

But that didn’t stop her from eying him suspiciously as he propped his pillows up behind her and tucked her back in under his comforter, the overall way he doted and fretted over her, even stopping to look back at her one more time from the doorway before he returned downstairs to give Kurogiri the new marching orders.

She dropped her head back against the pillows when finally alone, a bad feeling settling heavier and heavier in her stomach. This was beyond weird, the way he was acting. Sure, the guy was overbearing and constantly demanding of her attention, stupidly needy even. But doting? Not only willing but eager to put her needs ahead of his own? Caring deeply about her actual well-being and not just what he wanted to be her well-being? This was all way too out of character for him.

“…You can tell me. If he bothered you, I mean. N-Not just the Doctor either… If um… If anything’s bothering you.”

She sighed at the memory. Alright, maybe she wasn’t giving him enough credit. He’d shown at least some capability and even interest in her wants and well-being, he wasn’t a complete monster.

But still, all of this? The cooing and the caring and the, erm, servicing even that he’d done? It felt like too much. Like she was missing something really key about it all.

Like something was wrong .

Whether she ended up getting lost in that train of thought for long, or Kurogiri had already had some okayu whipped up downstairs, she wasn’t sure, but she was startled by how quickly it seemed that Shigaraki returned with a breakfast tray in hand. She cocked her head as he set it up over her lap, this was a lot more robust than she was expecting, and, she realized as she examined everything on the tray, a lot more stocked as well.

There was okayu, front and center for her, yes. But also on the tray was another small bowl of soup (looked like the wakame that Shigaraki had mentioned, a thing of plain yogurt (the really fancy kind that came in the glass jars), a glass of orange juice…

And a little dish of four pills. 

Painkillers or antiemetics maybe? They looked more like vitamins…

“Go ahead and start with the okayu if you want,” Shigaraki explained as he climbed up into the bed next to her, “But I want you to try and get some of the wakame and yogurt down too…”

As he settled down, his legs flush with her own, he continued to rattle off instructions and explanations for the rest of her tray, sending her mind completely spinning, faster and faster, like a goddamn Gravitron.

And she was ready to get the fuck off.

“...if nothing else though, take the vitamins. You need the folate, calcium, iron, and the omega-3 especially, since you don’t want the salmon—”

“Okay, stop, stop, stop !”

Shigaraki paused, having the audacity to look at her like she was crazy for snapping. 

“Jesus—what the hell are you even talking about Shigaraki?!” she demanded, “What’d you say, folate? What? What is all this?”

He cocked his head, clearly playing innocent. Whatever this was, he was clearly enjoying the slow unraveling of it all.

“What’re you talking about?”

“You know what I’m talking about!” she snapped, “All this attention and doting and food stuff! What the hell is this all about?!”

He just smiled back at her, taking in how pretty she looked, even when mad (especially when mad sometimes), God, to think that this really was his forever now. He wondered if they had a girl, how much she’d look like her. He hoped a lot…

“I just want to make sure you’re getting all the vitamins and nutrients you need…”

He reached over then, spreading his hand flat against her stomach.

“ Both of you .”

She froze.

No.

No, he couldn’t mean—

She tried to speak, tried to ask what the ever-loving- fuck he was talking about, but her mouth had seemed to go dry. She tried several times to open and wet it a bit, but every time she did, it felt like her throat was closing too. It took at least four desperate attempts for her to finally force out one rasped:

“... what? ”

Shigaraki’s grin widened, and he started to rub circles gently across her belly.

“You’re gonna look so cute, all big and round with my kid,” he giggled suddenly as he remembered something, “Oh, and your tits too. I wonder how big they’re gonna get…”

She stared at him, unblinking, unbreathing. Everything but un-fucking-existing.

He couldn’t be serious. He was fucking with her. He had to be fucking with her!

“Th-That’s not funny.”

His grin evened a little, not disappearing outright, but settling away some of its blissful excitement into something more coyly victorious.

“I said it already,” he reminded, “When have I ever been funny?”

She shook her head in disbelief.

“N-No. No, no, no this isn’t— there’s no way—”

“I’ve got the tests ready when you need to pee, but I think it’s pretty clear. These are all the symptoms I read about.”

“No!” she insisted, “N-No, no— this is, it’s my period! It’s just a day late, it’s not—!”

He chuckled, “I know the symptoms can be similar, but come on. When’s the last time you’ve hurled like that thanks to your period? And the sensitivity to smell? You know this is different.”

Crumbling, every argument she could possibly think of was crumbling to dust before she could even get the thought fully formed. And cruel, vicious reality was more than happy to take its place.

“B-But my birth control pills…”

“Fertility pills,” he explained, his splitting-grin returning in full, “I would’ve preferred to get Clomid from the doctor, but it looks like the over the counter stuff and tracking your cycle worked just fine.”

Her stomach dropped. Pieces of memories, peculiar behaviors and nagging thoughts she’d had over the last two months falling into place. How there were stretches of times where he’d cancel their sessions, only to insist they make them up a few specific days in a row. How he wanted to go multiple rounds a lot those days. How he’d stopped wanting blowjobs from her entirely. How he seemed to only want to fuck her from behind or with her knees pressed hard into her chest, positions he could fuck her the deepest in.

And how he’d have her stay still with his cock buried in her after he came. 

Back then, she just thought he was being weird and pervy. And in a way she was right.

Horribly fucking right.

Shigaraki shifted his legs away from her so that he could bring his head down to her lap, laying his cheek blissfully against her belly. 

“Was so easy,” he hummed against her skin, “Like your body was just waiting for me to knock you up. Waiting for me to make you mine…”

His hands moved across her body, one coiling behind her back so that he could pull her tighter into him, the other lacing his fingers through her own. The fingers on her trembling left hand.

“Both of you, forever,” he growled happily, a predator who had finally and definitively sunk his teeth into his prey, “All mine.”

[buckys-wintersoldier]

Stuck with a God | Loki Laufeyson

// Pairing // Loki Laufeyson x Agent!Female!Reader

// Summary // Loki gets imprisoned by Shield and he loves flirting with you. As much as he annoys you, even more does the Shield technology annoy you.

// Wordcount // 2.488

// Warnings // Explicit Content // 18+, Minors DNI, smut, kind of enemies to lovers, being stuck with Loki, bit of dub-con, fingering, squirting, CMNF, finger sucking / cum eating kinda, bit of housewife kink, praises

// Authors Note // This is my first time writing for Loki, so thanks to my amazing friend @jiyascepter for encouraging me to write for him.

// Events // Slumber Party: Sundae Bar | French Vanilla (stranded, looked in) and Black Cherry (Enemies to lovers) | @the-slumberparty | Bingo of your own | N4 | Stuck together | @thebo3bingo |

// Masterlist | Loki Laufeyson //

     “Darlin’! Didn’t think I would see you today,” the black-haired man says, his smirk growing as you walk closer to the cell he is in. “Want to see me again before they bring me into another cell, my dear?”

     You roll your eyes, earning a chuckle from the man. Since they brought him into the cell earlier that day, he flirts with you whenever you’re around. Or at least it’s what you think he is doing; maybe he just tries to convince you to let him out and let him rule the world — something you won’t do unless your boss will force you to.

     “Didn’t miss you; I just have to get something, and then I will be back doing my work,” you answer him, walking further through the room.

     Loki Laufeyson, god of mischief — at least what he said — walks up and down his cell, his green eyes following every little movement.

     “Oh, darling—“

     “Stop that flirting and let me do my job. You’re annoying, and I’m done with you, Loki,” you say, shaking your head in disbelief about that man.

     His lips are still curled up, and his eyes are glistening. As much as he annoys you, he has something that makes your knees weak — mystic and magical.

     “My dear, come here. Look at me when you tell me that you’re done with me. Are you done with me, darlin’, or do you only want everyone to think that?” His voice is low, his head falling forward, and he looks up, looking even more handsome than before.

     “No, don't even think that. You’re not that interesting to me,” you groan, frustrated that you’re stuck in that conversation. Too nice to just ignore him and too annoyed to continue talking to him.

     “Not interesting to you? I’m Loki — god of mischief — from Asgard! Everyone wants me. Oh, that sweet maid in Asgard — you should have seen her, darling. She begged me, but she wasn’t interesting to me,” Loki says, chuckling softly at your expression.

     How can he dare to tell you such an intimate story about one of the maids who is working for them? But to finally let him know that you’re not interested in his idiotic ass, you make your way closer to the entrance of the cell. Loki is grinning at you and walking in his cell to the entrance as well.

     When you reach it, he places his hand against the glass, waiting for you to tell him that you’re not interested in him. His green eyes remind you of a snake, staring into yours and glistening mischievously.

     “I’m not inter— How?” You almost shout at him when he is suddenly in front of you — without glass in between you. “FUCKING SHIT! How do— GO BACK INTO THE CELL!”

     Loki laughs softly, his white teeth visible. His tongue darts out, and he slides it across his plump lips before closing his mouth and leaning a bit further down.

     “Make me, darling. I’m a god; you think that little cell stops me from breaking out? How sweet,” he says in a teasing tone.

     You place your hands immediately on his chest, feeling the muscles tensing underneath your soft touch, before you push him back into the cell. Actually, you learned to not do things like that — never touch a criminal or get too close to him — they could use it to their advantage.

     A loud sound behind you makes you flinch, and you look around. The door behind you shuts, and your eyes widen when you realize that you’re stuck in a cell with the enemy. And not just one enemy; you’re stuck with Loki.

     “Stay away!” You grumble, letting go of him to take a step backwards and look for your card, which opens literally every door in a shield compound. You reach your card, finally able to get out of the cell again — you just need to find out how he managed to open the door and walk out of the cell.

     “Darling, don't you want to give me some company? That hurts my feelings; I thought you changed your mind and wanted to stay in that cell with me,” Loki says, his eyes still following every movement of yours while you walk to the door and press your card against the small display next to it.

     His lips curl up when the door doesn’t open. You try again, pressing the card against the display again. Once again, the door stays closed, and you groan frustrated — why can’t the technology work like it should?

     “Doesn’t work, darling? Do you need my help?” Loki asks, his tone teasing, and you roll your eyes once again. At some point, you’re sure you can roll your eyes all the time, but right now you’re just annoyed about the technology and him being such a dick.

     “I don’t need your help! Can you just shut up for a moment?” You ask through gritted teeth. You turn around, wanting to face the black-haired man, but the cell is empty, and you wonder if he broke out once again.

     You hiss and almost jump when you feel a warm breath against your neck. Long arms wrap around your waist, and a broad but small chest is suddenly pressed against your back. You can feel Loki’s nose sliding over the soft skin of your neck; a low chuckle leaves his lips when he pulls you even closer.

     A shiver runs down your spine; you want to lean more into his embrace. His warmth and scent envelope you. Loki feels just so good that you want more of him and more of his touches.

     “You like that, don’t you, darling?” He asks, his breath hitting your skin and causing goosebumps all over your body. It shouldn’t feel so good; you shouldn’t stay in his embrace; he shouldn’t touch you like that — Loki is still the enemy, but the two of you look now like he isn’t just that; it looks like the two of you are so much closer.

     “L—Loki, let go of me. H—How did you escape here? Wh—“ You interrupt yourself when you feel his long fingers moving over your stomach, higher to your chest.

     “I didn’t escape, but I told you — I’m a god, darling. I never escaped here; you opened the door with your card; you pushed just an imagination of mine into the cell. And now that you’re here with me, stuck in this cell, don’t you think we should just continue where we stopped?” Loki asks, his voice quiet, and he presses his soft lips against your neck.

     You shake your head, even though you don’t feel like that. You just can’t be that close or intimate with the enemy. He grumbles behind you, pressing you even closer against his chest, and you can feel his growing bulge pressing against your ass.

     Your eyes widen, pussy throbbing, but you can’t just give in to him, can you? Loki is thrusting his hips forward, chuckling against you, when a soft moan escapes your lips.

     “You like that?” You nod lightly, his fingers gracing over the fabric of your t-shirt to your chest. Loki moves his hands over the swell of your breasts, cupping them in his large palms, and when you look down, your breath hitches.

     His hands are so big, thin, but long fingers — they cause the most filthy thoughts you ever had. You inhale deeply. A moment later, you think about pushing him away, telling him to stop that, and that there are cameras, but you know that they won’t work when the display to unlock the cell doesn’t work either.

     Loki feels you tensing in his arms; he kneads your soft breasts in his hands, causing you to throw your head back.

     “N—Loki, please,” you whine, feeling his hard cock still pressing against you. He thrusts his hips forward, making you squeal. His hands are squeezing your tits more.

     “Changing your attitude is exactly how I like it. What do you need, darling?” His tone is teasing. You nod your head, now knowing what to say. Loki laughs, suckling at your neck while his hands snake back to your waist. “Tell me, darlin’.”

     “L—Loki, please, n-need you,” you whimper. You feel so pathetic, begging the enemy to touch you, to fuck you. His hands and his lips feel like the softest thing you have ever felt, and you need him to continue touching you. You need to know how talented those fingers are.

     “Look at you, melting in the enemy's embrace, needing his fingers, don’t you?” He mocks you, laughing softly when he picks you up. He carries the two of you to the bench on the other end of the cell, sitting down before he places you in his lap.

     Loki’s hands hold you in place, his hard crotch pressing against your ass, and you wiggle lightly, earning a low groan from the man behind you. His fingers are digging into your sides, pressing you further down on him to keep you still.

     His lips trail along your neck once again, and he then smirks miraculously once again. And suddenly… you’re naked in his lap. Your clothes are nowhere around, and you can feel the leather of his suit underneath your sensitive skin.

     “L—“

     “Come on, spread those pretty legs for your favorite god, darling,” he grumbles, his fingers sliding along the inside of your thighs as he spreads your legs apart.

     Loki reveals your throbbing pussy; his left hand is holding your one leg, and he squeezes your thigh, while his other hand inches closer to where you need him the most.

     His long finger slides through your folds, and you moan softly, throwing your head back against his shoulder. Loki circles your clit, pinching it lightly between his fingers before he moves his long fingers further down to your entrance.

     “So wet, ‘s that all for me, dalin’? Pussy’s drippin’ for me,” he says, kissing his way along your neck to your ear. His fingers coated in your arousal, he slowly pushes one finger into your entrance. You moan loudly, arching your back. Loki’s finger slips deeper into your tight pussy.

    “Doing so well; look at you, sweetheart. Taking my finger like you’re made for that, aren’t you?” Loki praises you, pushing deeper into you while curling his finger. He starts pumping it in and out of you, earning soft moans and whimpers from you.

     Your hands gripping his thighs, the cold leather feeling perfectly underneath your hot skin. And having him completely dressed while you’re naked turns you on beyond belief.

     Lokis circles your clit with his thumb, adding another finger to your cunt. Your breath gets heavier, you rock into his hand, and the coil in your stomach tightens with every moment of his long fingers inside of you.

     The black-haired man hits your sweet spot every time, the pads of his fingers sliding over it, causing an intense feeling to build up in your lower stomach. A feeling you never had before, not when you fucked yourself with a toy and never with another man.

     “Doing so well, darling. Squeezing my fingers so good, can’t wait to fuck you, probably. Yeah, that’s what you like? Being fucked by a god, don’t you, darling?” Loki asks; his eyes darken lightly, but since you’re with your back toward him, you can’t see them.

     “P—Please, so close. LOKI!” You almost shout; you're just about to come all over his fingers. You don’t know how you ended up in that situation, but right now you can’t care about that. Everything you want and need is Loki, his fingers curling inside of you and bringing you closer to the edge.

     The sound of your wet pussy and his fingers pumping into you in a steady rhythm echoes through the cell. He speeds up, loving the way your walls cling around his fingers, sucking his thin, long fingers even deeper. “Come on, sweetheart, come all over my fingers like the good girl you are.”

    With that, you do as you’re told, your pussy clenching around his fingers. Loki massages your sweet spot with his digits while you come all over his fingers. Your juices squirt all over his palm and fingers, landing on the ground of the cell.

     “F—Fuck, please, keep going, please, Loki,” you beg, thrusting your hips against his hand while you ride out your orgasm.

     He can’t stop his movements just now; you need him to fuck you through your orgasm — and that’s what he does. Curling his fingers steadily inside of your pulsing cunt, he thrusts slowly into you while you breathe heavily.

     You have been moaning like a whore since he started to fuck you with his finger. But you don’t care; he feels too good to think properly.

     “Didn’t think about it, darlin’. Doing so good for me, gonna keep you and take you with me to Asgard; make you my sweet little wife and fuck you whenever and wherever I want,” he groans, his eyes rolling slightly back when he thinks about that idea. A low moan escapes his pink lips, and he smirks. “You’re already so cock drunk, you can’t even think about it properly. Just say yes, darling.”

     You nod your head, your hips still moving against this hand, while you don’t really notice what he is saying. As long as he keeps his fingers inside of you. “Yes, please.”

     “Whining and begging like a pathetic little housewife, that’s what you are. My sweet little housewife.” He kisses your neck once again, sucking a purple mark into your skin. “All mine, darling, and everyone can see it.”

     Even with your protests, Loki pulls his fingers out of you, holding them up to show you your arousal dripping down his fingers. You blush slightly, watching Loki bring his fingers closer to his face. You turn your head, looking at him while he takes them into his mouth, sucking and licking them clean.

     “Tasting perfect, darling,” he hums more to himself before he moves his hand, and you’re suddenly dressed again.

     Your eyes widen, reality hits you, and you jump off his lap. You immediately miss his warmth, a cold shiver running down your spine while you consider getting back into his lap or staying away from him. This is just a short moment, because as much as you should stay away from him, as much as you crave and need this black-haired man.

     “That’s my girl. Now let’s get out of this cell and make you my pretty little housewife,” he says, smirking at you when your back is pressed against his chest once again. And just as he tells you, he is doing exactly that, making you his wife — and luckily, you’re not the only one addicted to the other one. A god can be just as addicted and craving like a human.

// Taglist // @kandis-mom @sergeantbarnessdoll @identity2212 @km-ffluv @lunaalovesyouu @armystay89 @suz7days @etherealdisneyvillainness @pono-pura-vida @somnorvos @meowmeowyoongles

[gleefullypolin]

Stacy's Tipsy Musing's - Colin Bridgerton Hot Takes - Part 4

Ok boys and girls, we need to have a little chat about Colin Bridgerton.

Part 2 has been out now for a couple of days and there have been a lot of hot takes to come out of the season. A LOT of hot takes. I’m going to break this down into 4 parts. 4 questions that I'm seeing really bad hot takes about Colin.

Now none of this is new, I gotta say before Season 3 aired Colin was a hot button topic anyway. He seemed to be the Bridgerton brother that lots of people love to spew hate takes on anyway. But damn I gotta say its painful seeing the Polin fandom have so many bad takes falling from their lips.

So, I figured...having a little drink tonight, sitting down for Father’s Day (Happy Father’s Day, Colin) I’d give you the opinion on some of these takes that you didn’t ask for...Mine!

Last time we talked about Colin’s entrapment statement to Pen and if he truly meant it.  Question 1, Question 2, Question 3, now lets get to Question 4:

How could Colin refuse to listen to Pen and just jump in to fix the situation with Cressida?

Colin “Hero Complex” Bridgerton to the rescue! This one is the easiest to answer because it has been coded throughout all 3 seasons to his character.

Season 1: Needed to save Marina from ruin. Even after finding out that she lied to him, tricked him, was pregnant with another man’s child, he STILL would have married her if she had told him she loved him. Like the boy had hero written on his chest and wanted to rip his shirt and fly into the sky to save her. He was the star of his own action story until it all came crashing to the ground the moment the damsel told him she didn’t love him. She thought him a foolish child.

Season 2: We have a couple of hero moments in season 2. He’s still stuck on there being a chance at redeeming himself at saving Marina, visiting her to see if she is happy, if there is anything he could have done differently for her. And once again he is told to stop living in a fairytale. The damsel is not in distress.

Our second hero moment comes in Jack Featherington. This time he gets to be the hero; he saves the ladies Featherington from his schemes. He proves him to be a fraud and runs him out of town. He has no idea that Portia is actually in on the scheme or that it has put the Featherington house into its own ruin at this point, but he rushes in to save the day without thinking ahead of anything else. Damsels in distress, Colin to the rescue.

Season 3: Ok, Pen needs to find a husband, Colin to the rescue. Balloon in Pen's path, Colin to the rescue. Pen is in danger, the Queen has advanced on her, and now Cressida is threatening. Colin does not even hear Pen the moment she speaks, all he hears is danger and he begins to act. His wife is in danger, and he will protect her. Hero mode activated. Again, Colin does not think ahead, he only thinks that his purpose is to protect. So he does not stop to listen to reason, he doesn’t hear Pen’s words or even sense, he just takes action.

The action at hand was apparently to go have a therapy session with Cressida Cowper, because that is what he did. A passionate plea with a woman who had no empathy. It was one of the best scenes however, because it was interesting to me that Colin was unable to tell Pen how he was feeling, but he opened up to Cressida and spilled his thoughts. Why? Because he did not care about her judgement, he did not care about her feelings toward him.

He admitted to feeling loss when Pen did not respond to his letters, he admitted to becoming a fraud, a shell, a person who closed himself off to feelings because he lost the person who opened him up to that piece of himself. He spoke of Pen’s treatment, he also tried to separate her once again from Lady Whistledown as if Pen was simply working for the woman and not actually the person holding the quill.

But Cressida was quick to pass her judgment, she clocked his jealousy immediately. He tried to appeal to her about love, family, fairness, and loneliness. Things he incorrectly assumed she would understand, but Colin, just like Eloise, is a sheltered Bridgerton’s who do not always understand how lucky they are, and he misjudged her reaction.

And our hero returned defeated by our villain. He faced the consequences of rushing in without listening to his wife. She thanked him for his counsel and his heart sank. Once again, the damsel did not need him. Once again, his purpose was gone.

It is only when she tells him she does not need him to be her hero, she simply needs him by her side that he understands his purpose. He doesn’t need to rush in to be her hero. He simply needs to love her. Sometimes the damsel saves herself. Colin truly is that wonderful romance hero I dream of.

Stick around for a bonus question....

I can’t believe Colin was going to just take 20,000 pounds from the Bridgerton funds, he doesn’t even have a job to take money from the family?

[shiny-crocodile]

the best person i’ve ever met

lucy bronze x ona batlle

Summary:

lucy and ona origin story; semi-slow burn, semi-quick; multi chapters that will get a little smutty

chapter 1, chapter 2, chapter 3, chapter 4

CHAPTER 1

Chapter Summary: the wedding

Notes: first time writing, feedback appreciated, enjoy ☺️

Lucy was so looking forward to this day, her best friend’s wedding was something they have been talking about since they were kids. She had thought that it may have been her walking down the aisle first given her 7 year relationship, but that had ended a few months ago and her full focus was on her best friend’s special day.

After a hectic first half of the season at her new club, Barcelona, it was also a much needed opportunity for her to let her hair down, hang out with friends she hasn’t seen for a while, marking the start of a fun-filled festive season.

But first she had to make it there on time!

Day 1s group chat

Lucy S: Girls, I don’t need the stress of knowing the details but please tell me you’ll be here in time!

Jordan: We will be there, Stan. I’m waiting for Luce in the pick up zone now.

Lucy S: YOU HAVEN’T PICKED HER UP YET? Oh god, I don’t want to know, I really don’t want to know. Please hurry!

Lucy B: Calma, we’ll be there in 20, get the champagne poured!! Can’t wait to see you! x

Lucy put her phone away as she made her way out of the airport, practically jogging over to Jordan in her black Porsche.

“Nice wheels!!” Lucy exclaimed as she chucked her bags in the boot. “How are you, my friend?” She asked, sliding into the car and embracing her friend over the console.

“Bloody stressed!” Jordan said, immediately starting the engine and racing off. “Not made better by you promising a 20 minute arrival time to a stressed bride when we are at least 30 minutes away.”

“I know you’ve always liked a challenge.”

They spent the rest of the drive with Lucy debriefing Jordan on the last few months as Jordan concentrated on nipping in and out of traffic. After giving up her plus 1 invite and preparing to turn up to an event as a single woman for the first time in 7 years, Lucy was fully expecting to be bombarded with questions throughout the day. So it was nice to get one out of the way on the drive.

Lucy was feeling good. She was in a great headspace. Of course it was strange, it had only been a few months since her breakup, but she was well over the hardest part and had even started going on dates.

“Well you know what they say,” Jordan started, “Gotta get under someone to get over someone.”

“Exactly,” Lucy agreed, knowing she would leave that part out of her answers when others asked her how she was doing later that day. She was having fun back in Barcelona, but they didn’t all need to know that.

/////

As they arrived at the venue, Lucy S’s brother was stood outside the side entrance, vape in hand.

“Oh god, you look even more stressed than Jordan,” Lucy pointed out as she jumped out the car and walked round to the boot.

“Hard not to be when I’m getting stuck with all the maid of honour duties while the actual maid of honour is 2 hours late to hair and make up,” Sam muttered between panicked puffs on his vape.

“Guessing they’ve not quite got to your hair and make up then”, Lucy joked.

“Funny.”

“Got it, I’ll save the jokes till after the ceremony. Which way are we going?”

Lucy didn’t hear his response as a stunning brunette in a bright blue suit and sky high heels caught her attention. She was strutting towards the front entrance with her arm linked with a player Lucy knew, Millie Turner. Lucy recognised the beautiful girl in blue as a player she had faced a few times for Man City and England, but had never really appreciated how good looking she actually was until right now. She’d taken the English player’s breath away.

Sam and Jordan scoffed as they looked at each other knowingly once they’d realised they no longer had Lucy’s attention. They hadn’t seen single Lucy in action for years but they definitely still recognised her.

“Well I guess my sister was right then,” Sam scoffed, breaking Lucy from her staring session.

“Huh?” Lucy said, confused.

Jordan grabbed her by the arm and pulled her along. “Come on Luce, you can drool later, let’s go see the bride!”

///

Two champagne flutes were shoved in their faces as they entered the hotel suite, Lucy blowing a kiss over to the other Lucy and the Staniforth family while being hurried into a chair with a team instantly getting started on her face and hair.

“Wow you look amazing,” the right back said as she saw her best friend approaching in the mirror’s reflection. Lucy S was wearing a gorgeous long laced white dress, with a deep V at the front, showing off her golden tan. Her best friend wasn’t wrong, she looked seriously amazing.

“I’m so happy you made it,” the bride said, kissing the side of her maid of honour’s head, trying to not mess up either of their make up.

Lucy smiled, full of such happiness for her oldest friend, “I wouldn’t miss it for the world. I’m so so proud of you.”

“Oh don’t start, I’m not allowed to start crying yet,” Lucy S said, playfully shoving her maid of honours shoulder, “but I’m really proud of you too.”

This had deeper meaning to the Lucys given their frequent long late night chats over the past year, filled with lots of tears and comforting as the right back was forced to come to terms with the realisation she had to end her 7 year relationship, and also come to terms with the end of it in itself. None of it had been easy, there was a lot of love there, even if it became non-romantic. It sent Lucy into some really dark places where she didn’t think there would be any light at the end of the tunnel. She dealt with most of it herself but when she didn’t it was often the other Lucy at the end of the phone.

They shared soft smiles and damp eyes thinking about how much things had improved since then.

“Lucy you will NEVER guess who Bronzey was drooling over outside”, Jordan interrupted while marching over. Both Lucy’s and probably also the make up artists were happy for her intrusion before mascara started running.

“Drooling?! Oh my gosh, who?”

“Begins with an O, greats you with an ‘Hola’,” Sam jumped in as Lucy B rolled her eyes and turned her focus away from the group and onto herself in the mirror as she picked up her champagne.

“Shut the fuck up!” Lucy S exclaimed, “Ona?!”

“Mhmmmmm,” Jordan hummed in confirmation.

Sam nodded eagerly while his sisters jaw hit the floor, “So your plan of wedding day matchmaking is already off to a great start!”

The right back spun her chair back around to face the group, cheeks a slightly deeper shade of red than they were 10 minutes ago. “What do you mean ‘matchmaking’?”

“Well now all the wedding planning is out the way I will need something else to occupy my time,” the bride said while topping up everyone’s glasses. “And no offence but I’m bloody bored of having single friends, me and the mrs need some double date candidates.”

Now it was Lucy B’s turn to gasp in shock. “Wow, well ok then. But maybe you let me chat to her first and see if we actually get on? You know me, all about the personality.”

Jordan laughed a little too loud at that.

“What?” Lucy asked, insulted.

Jordan whipped her phone out and swiped through instagram, “look at some of the insanely fit Spanish girls she’s been going on dates with”. She held up the phone to show the group a series of photos of ridiculously beautiful girls. “Right Luce, these were aaaaall about the personality, yeah?”

“Whatever” Lucy laughed back, her friend may have had a point.

“Well at least Ona is ticking the good looking and Spanish boxes then,” the bride and aspiring match maker said, excited that her plan was coming together. She had obviously known Lucy forever but she had got really close to Ona over the last year and just knew they would be perfect for each other .

Although some people had other ideas…

///

With the ceremony getting underway, Lucy was already a bit buzzed from the 2 glasses of champagne she had in the suite. That would probably explain the surge in confidence she felt when she caught the pretty Spaniard’s gazing at her during the vows. Lucy raised her eyebrows with a smirk at them being the only two in the room whose eyes weren’t on the brides.

You couldn’t blame Ona, Lucy looked incredible in her green silk suit, a white top underneath that showcased abs that looked as though they had been carved by gods. Ona blushed and turned her head quickly to face the brides, which didn’t go unnoticed by Lucy or the Man United players around her.

The Spanish girl had been counting down the days till this wedding. Falling in December, this marked the end of her first full year in England. After a difficult first 6 months of getting used to the language, weather and food, she really felt like she had settled in this year and was looking forward to celebrate love alongside her teammates.

Ona had never been to an English wedding before, she had expectations of what the level of drinking would be like but was excited to see how the English did wedding parties, how it compared to the Spanish dance filled ones.

The ceremony came to an end, the beautiful brides making their way out of the hall, confetti thrown all over them. Ona felt her hands clam up as she saw Lucy start to make her way over.

“Bronzey!!” Tooney shouted, pushing past Alessia to give Lucy a hug.

“You look so good,” Alessia complimented as it was her turn for a hug.

“So do you guys! Look at us all dressed up! Although I desperately need to switch out of these heals,” Lucy complained, pointing down to her shoes that were already giving her blisters after just 30 minutes in them.

“Have you met Oh-na?” Tooney asked, dragging the Spanish girl closer to her side.

“Only in football kits, unfortunately,” Ona said, Tooney quietly chucking at Ona’s unintentional flirting, getting a light shove from Alessia. “Nice to meet you properly.”

“You too! I feel like I know you with the girls at Barça always talking about you anyway,” Lucy said, paying no notice to the childish chuckles from Tooney, full attention on the enchanting eyes of the shorter brunette. “You planning on sticking with those heels all night?” Lucy asked, pointing down to Ona’s shoes that were about double the height of the ones she was complaining about.

“Annoyingly, yes,” Ona responded, “I stupidly forgot my dancing shoes.”

“I’m sure we will work something out,” Lucy said, “I think -“

“Um Hi Lucy,” Millie T interrupted, making Lucy aware of the fact that she had gotten distracted and stopped mid-way down the line, neglecting Millie.

“Millie, hey!” Lucy said enthusiastically, “how are you?”

The brunette noticed an uncharacteristic coldness in Millie as she pulled the blonde in for a hug.

“Yeah, good thank you,” Millie responded, turning to Ona and the rest of the group, “we should go through to our table now.”

Lucy wasn’t sure the reason for the dismissive behaviour but she could take a hint, “Cool I better go see if the brides need me, I’ll catch up with you all later,” she said to the group before her eyes stopped on the younger brunette, “it was lovely to meet you Ona.”

As Lucy made her way out of the hall, Ona’s eyes were glued to her. She would be lying if she said Lucy didn’t look insanely good today, well Ona had always found her good looking, but today the green suit and perky bum bouncing as she left the room were hard not to be transfixed by. The Spanish girl was especially impressed by the English girl’s ability to correctly pronounce her name, despite being introduced by Tooney who completely butchered it. She guessed she had her friends in Barcelona to thank for that.

///

The reception area was buzzing with laughter and chatter as the guests enjoyed their 3 course dinner, followed by speeches and a first dance that made most of the room emotional. Then it was time to dance and Lucy kept to her word, really letting her hair down - she had lost count of how many drinks she’d had by this point - shifting from champagne, to wine, to beer and now onto the vodka sodas.

No matter the occasion, if there was a dance floor, Lucy was on it and tonight was no different. She was switching between groups of old friends, work friends, Lucy S’s family. Her green eyes regularly caught on Ona’s brown ones for the first half an hour, until they didn’t anymore, although she was too distracted by the fun drunken times she was having dancing with Sam Staniforth to really think about it.

That was until she saw the rest of Man United girls back out on the dance floor again but Ona was nowhere to be seen. She scanned the room and saw the young brunette sitting on her own sipping her drink, smiling over at her teammates as she watched them enjoy themselves.

“You ok there?” Lucy said as she approached Ona, pulling out a chair and slumping down into it to give her legs a rest. “I thought the Spanish loved to dance!”

Ona looked around and sent a pained smile Lucy’s way. “We do!” she argued, “I’m ashamed to be letting my country down but my feet are in too much pain. All I can do is drink.”

“Ah yes the shoes! Well my feet could do with a rest as well, so all good if I join you for that drink?” Lucy asked, holding up her empty glass and smiling at Ona hopefully. Even countless drinks in, she still felt an unexplainable nervousness talking to her new acquaintance.

“Of course! I would love that, I want you to tell me all about Barcelona,” Ona said, “make me jealous”.

Lucy excitedly jumped up, “what are you drinking then? I’ll get us another.”

“Well seen as though we’re talking about Spain, shall we have some Sangria.”

Lucy’s eyes lit up, “Yes! We absolutely should. You rest those pretty feet, I’ll be right back”.

As Lucy walked away she cursed herself internally for the “pretty feet” comment that she didn’t mean to let spill out of her mouth, now Ona will think she’s got some kind of foot fetish.

Meanwhile all Ona was wondering was whether she was dreaming or if the real Lucy Bronze, the most attractive person at this wedding, was flirting and they were actually going to drink Sangria together.

Once Lucy returned with a big jug and two glasses, the girls talked and talked. It felt so natural, it was flirty but sweet and they were so focused on each other that they forgot where they were and lost all track of time. Then the music switched to reggaeton and Lucy had a sudden urge to dance with Ona but she needed to do something about those shoes and the floors were too sticky for the spaniard to ditch them completely.

“Jordan!” Lucy shouted over to another table, waving her friend over. “Do you have some trainers Ona could borrow? You’re probably closer to her size and she needs to get out of these heels to have a dance” Lucy said, lifting Ona’s leg off the ground to show Jordan the 6 inch heels in question.

“You want me to get her out of her heels?” Jordan teased, “just kidding! Ona, come with me, we will find you something.”

Ona scurried off behind Jordan, trying to keep up with a half limp while smiling back as she left Lucy at the table. She blushed slightly feeling the older brunette’s eyes following her out of the room.

As Lucy picked up her drink for another sip, she shuddered at the grating of the chair next to her as she was joined by someone.

“Oh hi Millie,” Lucy said, noticing the blonde girl was particularly drunk now.

“Lucy,” she said as she grabbed the jug of Sangria, pouring herself a glass without asking.

“Having fun?” Lucy asked, suddenly feeling very awkward. She hated small talk and Millie wouldn’t make this easy, but she couldn’t exactly just sit there in silence.

“Yeah, I love a wedding! Where’s Keira tonight?” Millie asked, avoiding eye contact.

Lucy had successfully navigated that question a couple of times tonight but this was a weird one as Millie would have definitely known they had broken up. “Somewhere in Spain, I’d imagine. Her family are going over there for Christmas.”

“Left her on babysitting duty then,” Millie said, more of statement than a question.

Lucy was starting to feel more uncomfortable now, she was confused as Millie was usually so warm with her, “I guess. You know we broke up though right?” She asked, knowing that Millie would have known, everyone knew, the footballer community isn’t massive and it was the biggest topic of gossip this year.

“Mm maybe I did hear about that? So now you’re going after Ona?”

Ah, Lucy thought, realising the coldness was potentially Ona related. “I wouldn’t say so,” Lucy defended herself, “we’re just chatting and have things in common because of Barcelona and mutual friends.”

“Planning on shitting where you eat then?”

“Pardon?” Lucy asked, knowing what the saying meant but unsure why it was being directed at her.

“Well she’s going to be your teammate next season so might be a good idea not to use her as a rebound.”

Lucy dismissed herself, muttering an excuse about needing the toilet but she just needed to get out of that situation. Something was clearly going on with Millie and Lucy wasn’t going to take it personally, but she couldn’t help but feel a little surprised by the revelation of Ona signing for Barça. They play in the same position and of course Lucy knew she wouldn’t be the first choice right back forever but it did sting a little at the thought she could be replaced so soon.

Ona came back, bouncing over to the table where she left Lucy with a new spring in her step as her feet were finally freed from those heels.

“Where’s Lucy gone?” She asked Millie as she got to the table with Lucy’s seat empty.

“Dunno,” Millie grumbled, “I mentioned something about her girlfriend and she left.”

“Ex-girlfriend” Jordan chimed in, before wandering off to look around for Lucy, managing to annoy Millie with her interjection.

Millie turned around to scan the room, “oh look, she’s over there chatting up that blonde at the bar.”

Ona felt like she’d been punched in the gut as she looked over and saw exactly that. Lucy was leaning over the bar, face way too close to the bartender who was unquestionably attractive. She looked like a model.

“Well let’s go dance then,” Ona said, shaking off the feeling of rejection. They had just been flirting, and Lucy probably thought it as just harmless. It hurt a little as Ona thought they were having a good time together and she fancied Lucy, but it was nothing she couldn’t dance away.

Millie followed her to the dance floor to rejoin the other football girls, Ona finally able to show off her moves. Although the person she wanted to show off to was no longer nearby.

Until she was.

“Hey dancing queen,” Ona heard, feeling a pair of soft lips graze her ear before spinning round to see Lucy’s face impossibly close to hers. Lucy stepped back, holding up a tray of shot glasses between them, “got you something!”

“Tequila!!!” Ona exclaimed, grabbing a glass, some salt and lime before moving back so Lucy could pass the tray round to the other girls.

She even held the tray out to Millie with a smile, before discarding the tray and heading back next to Ona to take the shots together.

“I thought you’d found someone else to talk to,” Ona said, tequila coursing through her as she drunkenly confessed, “it made me sad.”

Lucy put a hand out to hold Ona’s waist and bring her closer, again brushing the younger girl’s ear with her lips. “No way, I wasn’t going to miss our dance.”

She stepped back again and took Ona’s hand in hers, spinning her around, moving together and apart in sync with the music.

The older brunette had considered not coming back, but a quick toilet break brought her back to her senses. She wasn’t going to let anything or anyone stop her from having a good time tonight, she’d been too excited for this night for too long to sulk. Just had to make a quick pit stop to the bar for the shots before joining Ona.

///

As the night went on the two girls danced and danced. They would occasionally part to dance with friends but were soon drawn back into each other like magnets, then glued at the hip until they were amongst the last on the dance floor and it was the last song.

Ona wrapped her arms around Lucy’s neck, pulling her in as the older brunette felt the younger girls breath was over her. She slowly leaned down, moving her lips closer to Ona’s, searching each others eyes for any hesitation, wondering if this was really about to happen in front of all these people.

Lucy was taken out of her thoughts by Ona jumping back suddenly, hand covering her mouth as she spun round and sprinted towards the bathroom.

Lucy stood frozen in shock before she pulled herself together and rushed after her. As she entered the bathroom she saw Ona hunched over a toilet, throwing up everything they’d drunk together over the last few hours.

Lucy rushed to the younger girl’s side and pulled her hair back, taking a hair tie and clip out of her own styled her to secure Ona’s out of her face and away from the toilet bowl.

Lucy gently rubbed circles on Ona’s back while the vomiting continued. As she paused between vomits, Millie entered the room with a glass of water.

“I can take it from here,” Millie asserted.

Lucy started to stand up, before Ona’s tear filled eyes caught hers, longing her to stay. She couldn’t and wouldn’t leave her like this.

“Actually I think I’ll stay, but thanks for the water,” Lucy said, taking the water from Millie and placing it to Ona’s lips, full attention back onto the sickly Spaniard. “That’s it, small sips, you’re ok,” Lucy reassured.

Ona breathed heavily as she seemed to be done vomiting. Ignoring Millie behind them, she grabbed Lucy’s hand saying, “thank you for staying, I’m so sorry, this is so embarrassing.”

Lucy laughed, one hand in Ona’s the other still stroking her back, “don’t worry! Happens to the best of us and I’m probably partly to blame. Let me drop you back to your room.”

“Oh no, you’re sweet but that would make me even more embarrassed to have you escort my drunk self back. I’ll ask one of the girls,” Ona said, using Lucy’s strong shoulder to push herself up to stand.

Lucy followed suit and got to her feet, following Ona over to the sinks, where Millie was no longer leaning, neither girl paying attention to her exit.

“Fair enough, I’ll leave you to it. Honestly nothing to be embarrassed about though,” Lucy said as both girls washed their hands.

“I won’t hug you because I’m a bit disgusting now. But I’ve had a really good night with you.”

Lucy didn’t care as she brought Ona in for a hug anyway, “me too,” she said against Ona’s neck, “maybe see you up for breakfast tomorrow, sweet dreams bonita.” She left a soft kiss on Ona’s cheek before backing away and leaving the bathroom.

Ona turned back to the mirror, not able to miss the red that had washed over her face. She cursed herself for not being able to control her drink, but on some sort of high from the cheek kiss.

She left the bathroom and walked back over to her friends, catching Lucy gazing over at her with a smile as she helped stack away the chairs in the corner of the room.

“You ok?” Millie asked, “shall I walk you back to your room?”

“That’s ok, Less’s room is near mine, she can do it.” Ona said. Usually she would just say yes to Millie for a simple life but she could tell something was up with her today. She had been acting off ever since Ona had mentioned that Barcelona had offered her a contract on the drive over, then the weird behaviour continued and seemed targeted towards Lucy. She couldn’t be bothered with it, she was too exhausted, so she hooked her arm into Less’s and marched them off down the corridor.

“Well you looked like you had a good night,” Jordan said, making Lucy jump while mid chair stack.

“Hah I really did,” Lucy agreed before trying to change the subject, “how was yours?”

Jordan picked up a chair to help her stack, “good as well. Although I reckon the highlight was watching a girl run away to throw up when it looked like you were about to kiss.”

Lucy laughed, tugging the chair out of Jordan’s hands before shoving her, “shut up.”

“Hope the wedding photographers caught that moment,” Jordan teased, digging out a pack of gum from her pocket as she held them up to Lucy. “Maybe you could do with one of these?”

Lucy rolled her eyes, leaving Jordan to go get more of the chairs from other tables, knowing full well that she was going to be teased about this for the rest of time.

Once she’d helped out as much as she could, Lucy headed up to her room, still on a high from the whole day, already excited for the next time she would get to see her new friend.

[phoenixblaze1412]

*cries* imagine kid reader wants to have bangs so one of the segments decide to cut them some but it ends up being too short and look horrible 😭

I tried my best with this one anon, hope you like it😭

Bangs.

Seeing your Aunty Sandrone was the reason why you're standing on a small stool and looking at your reflection in the mirror. It was her hair. The way her hair looks so pretty. Most importantly, her bangs.

Your father never really did give you a proper hairstyle, he just combed your hair to get rid of the knots before going to his work in the laboratory. But after walking along the hallways of the palace to grab a little snack and seeing the Marionette, you knew you wanted a hairstyle like hers.

You grabbed a comb and brushed your hair down before holding up a pair of scissors to cut your hair short.

"What are you doing?"

You jumped in surprise and quickly turned around to see Theta leaning by the door with his arms crossed.

"Didn't your father tell you not to hold something big and sharp yet until you're a teenager? You're gonna get yourself hurt, dumbass."

He huffed and grabbed the scissors away from your hands before looking over at the hairbrush and clips you left on the sink as he gave you a questioning look.

"What are you even doing with these?"

"I just wanted to have bangs like Aunty Sandrone! Papa never styles my hair and I wanted one! Please Theta!"

The segment would have immediately said no the moment you exclaimed you wanted your hair to be cut for some stupid bangs. But the moment you pulled out your ultimate weapon against him: those puppy dog eyes you mustered up. How could he say no to you...

"Okay! Fine! Come here."

Hearing him give in to your pleas to help you cut skme bangs was probably the most regrettable decision you have ever made.

Theta was never really skillful when it comes to hairstyles. He could slice open a cadaver but snipping and cutting hair? Not on his résumé.

He wasn't really sure how the Marionette was able to cut her bangs so he tried to cut it the same way as hers. Snipping some of your hair and combing it away with a brush before looking it over and grumbling to himself at how they were uneven and asymmetrical to the point that he keeps cutting it shorter and shorter until its even. He already gave up halfway through and left some parts uncut.

". . . Looks good enough."

Theta stared at your face before biting down on his lips to try and stop himself from laughing. Oh archons, he was terrible with hair.

"Thetaaaa!"

Your cries and wails can be heard from the hallways which caused the other segments to stop from their work.

"Ahaha! I said I'm sorry-! Hehehaha!"

The door to the laboratory was swung open as the segments stared flabbergasted at your tiny form, Theta following behind you with tears in his eyes from all the laughing he did. Some were trying to hold in their laughs, others were worried about you. Delta and Gamma was cackling very loudly in the back which made you cry more.

"What's all this commotion about?"

Zandik walked out from his office as he looked at his segments before glancing at you only to choke on his saliva at your current predicament.

"Papa!"

You watched as your father let out a fake cough to hide his laugh before walking over to pick you up.

"(Y/n), what have you gotten yourself into this time? You look... not like how you usually do."

Your father grabbed a small hand mirror and handed it to you as you looked at yourself in the mirror. Pouting at first before wailing at how you're stuck with your hair like that forever.

"I don't want Theta touching my hair anymore! He made me ugly!"

"HEHEHAHAH!"

"My dear, your hair will grow again. Although it will take a few months.."

"I'm uglyyy!"

[the-moon-files]

Wait, quick idea! Twilight looks like the only hylian in his village because everyone else has round ears, so what if he wasn’t as surprised as the others to see their human companion so resilient, but still fairly impressed because of the fact that most if not all people in his village don’t put themselves in as drastic situations as the reader? Or is this just humans from our world?

get out of my head lmao /lh - you, me, and wayfayrr are actually the same person on diff accounts LMAO

im of the belief that (blame @wayfayrr, my beloved) that he knows of humans bc of some in his village but yeah, just not the type of human in drastic situations

(ALSO they wrote me a fun, long, glorious, male reader human space orc au fic for winning their raffle a bit ago, and it brings up their headcanon abt this and i Adore It actually, check it out here pls if u wanna know🤲)

(also if u see this wayfayrr, sorry for the ping, also should i be calling u moss? or wayfayrr?? idk which, i hope thats even ok to ask 😭 i assumed u would call my ass Moon)

Moon: Male-Masc Reader (he/him)

Orbit: short headcanons-ish, rambling mostly

Stars: Twilight Princess Link (Twi/Twilight), mentions of other Links

Comets & Meteors: CWs: none known, & TWs: none known.

Please comment if I missed any. /gen

to reiterate what i said up there, in case u skipped it for the bullet points,

i like the headcanon he knows humans, knows some of their quirks, and how they were the first ppl the other hylian villagers called on to help stuck cows or downed wagons, lots of heavy lifting stuff

but he really hasnt seen the extent of real humans, bc the humans who were in Ordon, well, they lived in hylian society,

why would they need the adrenaline to lift a car when hylians have set up whole tools and systems in all their towns to help lift just a full bucket of water out of the well??

not to mention, i think all the humans in his village were older adults? like at least not the age theyd be doing things like parkour or going to any trampoline parks type of age,

id imagine its more like stories talked about amongst hylians how hard humans can go, and even the humans themselves talked abt things like,

“well compared to u hylians, we have stomachs made of molten lava to you guys really, but we never have to use it, bc u know hylian food works just fine”

when Twi asked they would say stuff like that, but as soon as he saw ur human ass just picking wildflowers and berries off the side of the road to snack on? even random grasses/vines at some point (kudzu)?? easily eating Wild’s Dubious Food that's DEFINITELY got monster parts in it???! gnawing on the bone of a cucco and it just breaks??!!! and you look surprised too, thank fuck finally a normal reaction from u- oh my goddesses u were just curious (damn the elders were right abt human curiosity too) **and are now sucking out the marrow and eating the bone-!!!!!!!!!!!!

Twilight’s perspective of you is actually the equivalent of like, reading stories about vampires all ur life, then this new friend you made starts to get allergic to garlic, crave blood, has crazy strength and advanced senses, etc

and he’s just watching those honest-to-Hylia human mythological feats play out in real time in front of him, like he’s the only self-aware character in the story that immediately clocks the really obvious vampire as a vampire lmao

is the first to either 1. start choking on his laugh as he theoretically knows ur about to jump on the back of a lynel/hinox to ride it around and watch as the others come to the same conclusion OR 2. try to Stop you from jumping on said big monster in an attempt to ride it around bc he gets used to ur human BS quicker than the others and can see it coming a mile away now lol

very much so this meme:

(ur welcome i made it myself <3)

anyway id love to rant abt this dynamic

abt both Twi’s shock at you eating peppers like a god has come down from the sky to prove their immortality,

but also poor rancher esstientally humansitting you too lmao

the Chain/Time/Wars absolutely put him down as the resident human expert like: “ok he just drank like, 5? No- Four stop him from drinking more at least- (dual sighs). okay, 6 stamina potions, will that kill him??”

Twilight, saviour of Hyrule, of the Twili, Link from Twilight Princess himself,

has to keep a record book of all the new shit he’s heard/learned about humans in Ordon, what he has actively learned abt ur ass just fucking around and finding out, and the few bread crumbs of information u give him abt ur species

(that rlly just come off as kind of cryptid statements abt u/humanity, or don't apply in this scenario bc ur only comparison is Earth Rules, which honestly scare every single fucking one of them in the same way as walking on Ganon’s lawn or something, like straight up view ur home planet as enemy territory, the Amazon jungle, the Hyrule wilds if you will-)

Twilight also gets involuntarily volunteered for human-sitting duty too

tbh the only person Not allowed on human-sitting duty, when u guys go new areas esp, is Wild/Hyrule

you’d tell him you wanna get inside the guardian robot to operate it and ride it around and he’d probably be in shock you even fathomed something like that, yet also now EXTREMELY intrigued to watch it play out

(they’re both more of a “u wanna jump off a cliff?? that's actually crazy, wait for me please.” he seems to think he can somehow protect you if he joins you? its worked sometimes to be fair to him ¯\_ (ツ)_/¯ just not really conveniently when the rest of the Chain are around lmao)

☆

i live btw, ive been writing/updating fics along with life updates (moving states/new job/online class) so a few asks will hopefully be answered over here in the next 2ish weeks

no promises, my life is kinda girlbossing at the moment too close to the sun and i am Nervous abt disappointing u guys

i already feel like im disappointing my other blog bc i haven't posted in forever bc im writing a fic instead of asks during any free time i dedicate to writing for it so :/

pls excuse my super slowness like a package ur waiting for in the mail or smth type of slow

AGAIN thanks for the ask!! i hope this was at least entertaining to read as some addon to what u said, you guys have gotta check out some of wayfayrr’s stuff if ur into this, bc they're the only other place i can think of that's talked abt humans not just being the same as hylians

have a great week!!

Peace out hugs and chaos,

🌙

[idleoblivion]

"An Unexpected Lesson in Envy" Cater Diamond x GN Reader

Synopsis: Cater wants to show off pictures of you on Magicam, but the online response is not what he was expecting.

Word Count: ~1.4k

A/N: Well it turns out that Cater’s speech and whole overuse of internet lingo thing feels so unnatural to write for me so I think I ended up making him more serious than I was supposed to lol, I did my best. Also the @ looks like that cause I almost accidentally tagged a real person lol

Warnings: jealousy, light reverse comfort

“Come on, just a few more!”

“You said that ten minutes ago!”

You loved him, you did, but your boyfriend had a habit of roping you into photo shoots that could be inconveniently long. You were too cute, he’d always say, he couldn’t help it. You were in the gardens of Heartslabyul, which made for the perfect background as well. Today though, you have a history essay that you really need to get started on. If you stuck around too much longer, you’d have to work pretty late into the night to finish in time. 

“You’re so cruel to leave me~” he whines, which you respond to with a lighthearted glare. “Fine,” he sighs, “We’ve already gotten enough good pics anyway.”

“Thanks. I’ll text you later tonight.” You quickly kiss his cheek before hurrying back to your dorm to work. 

Cater returns to his room as well. While he’s ascending the tall, twisted stairs to get there, he’s scrolling through all the photos he got today. He’s almost giddy as he looks through them, you ended up with some fantastic shots today. 

He flops onto his back on his bed and starts collecting his favorite ones to post. He decides on a short collection of them, and rushes to Magicam to show them off. 

‘Some adorbs photos with @ ididntasktobehere in the gardens! Some of my fav pics I’ve taken! #aesthetic #gorgeous #photoshoot #CayCaythebestphotographer’

He smiles to himself, satisfied with the caption he typed out. He posts them immediately, excited to see the response that they’ll get. And the attention starts coming within minutes of posting. 

He knew the pictures would get some popularity, his followers liked almost anything he posted featuring the gardens, and you were always a stunning model in his opinion. What he doesn’t expect is the amount of attention. The comments and likes start rolling in like they never have for him. No other post of his has gone as viral as this one. 

He’s ecstatic about it, until he starts actually reading the comments. 

-OMG, who is that? They are BEAUTIFUL 

-literally ethereal omg

-They could slap me and I’d actually thank them for real

-JUST ONE CHANCE PLEASE I BEG

He’s…conflicted. 

Of course you’re beautiful, and of course people would notice. That was to be expected, so why was his chest still feeling tighter and tighter the more he read?

He wasn’t the jealous type, really. He never got upset if you were affectionate with your friends. He never blamed you if some other guy flirted with you, because of course you always turned them down. And as long as they took no for an answer, he couldn’t really blame them for finding you attractive either. 

It’s never been so many people though. Especially all at once. It wasn’t just one person who wanted your attention, it had turned into hundreds thanks to his post. People were praising you with every compliment they could think of, and some were even asking if you were single. 

Your account was private, so he wasn’t worried about you being flooded with unwanted attention suddenly. But he was worried about what you’d think if you saw all the comments. Would you be uncomfortable? 

…Would you like them? He guesses he could understand if you did, everyone was being so nice and complimentary. But he realizes a part of him really doesn’t want you to. 

He was the uncomfortable one. As uncharacteristic as it was, he was jealous and had to admit it. 

Now he was at a loss for what to do, though. Does he delete the post? You followed him, so if you checked once you were done with your essay and the pictures weren’t there, you might ask what happened to them. He technically could respond to everyone that you were taken, but didn’t that make him seem insecure? He should be able to just brush it off, he thinks. 

It’s getting late by this point, and he decides to just try and ignore it for the night. He’d deal with any more comments in the morning, when his head was a little clearer. 

—-

He could not ignore it for the night. Every few hours he was up and checking for any more replies to his post, always finding at least a few new ones. His frown deepened with each additional comment. For the first time, he was actually loathing the popularity of his own post.

You could tell something was off when he greeted you with only a half-hearted smile and spent your whole walk to class together clearly lost in his own thoughts. He wasn’t any better anytime you spotted him in the hall between classes. He still wasn’t any better at the end of the school day, which is why you follow him to his dorm to confront him about it.

“Come on, you know you’ve been weird today. Are you feeling sick? Is something wrong?” “It really isn’t that big of a deal.” There’s absolutely zero pep in his tone, none of his usual Cater mannerisms present. He seems almost exhausted.

“That’s a lie and you know it. Cater, why can’t you talk to me about it?” He ponders for a second, still feeling guilty for being jealous in the first place. But clearly he wasn’t hiding it well, and making you worry about him didn’t feel very good either. So he takes a deep breath in before laying out everything that happened with the post.

“...That’s it? I saw the post, you even tagged me. I looked at the comments too when I saw you were getting so many. I honestly just rolled my eyes at them. I didn’t realize they were making you upset.”

“I…I guess I didn’t expect to be either? I just…I don’t know why. It’s not like I think you’d break up with me for one of them or anything.”

“It’s still okay to feel weird about it though. Do you want to take the post down?” “I thought about it, but I’m not sure. And the same thing might happen if I ever post more.” He seems extra dejected at the thought of that. Luckily, an idea pops into your head.

You grab his phone out of his hand. He looks at you surprised, but lets you open up his camera and sit next to him.

“Okay, now like this…” You put his arm around you and lean into him close. He seems to get the idea at this point and smiles widely before pulling you in tightly himself. You both position yourselves in frame, and you press your lips to his cheek as you take the picture.

When you pull away and hand him his phone back, his mood has already flipped completely. Even more so as he types out his next caption:

‘Thanks for the love on the pics we posted! Me and my lovely partner @ ididntasktobehere have been reading all the nice comments together! #cutestcouple #cutiesinlove’

“‘Cuties in love?’ Get rid of that, that’s embarrassing.” “But it’s true! We’re a couple of cuties, the cutest couple in the school!”

He laughed at himself and closed his phone with a satisfied grin. He was sure the two of you got the point across to everyone. With his confidence restored, he looks at you and starts brainstorming again.

“Oooh, maybe Vil will let us use one of the rooms at Pomefiore, everything in there is so fancy, it would totally blow up if we did a little shoot there.” “You’re seriously already planning another?” You laugh.

Of course he was. Now that everyone had it straight that you were taken, he was going to take every opportunity to show you off. 

Plus, if anybody had something to say, he could always just ask you to kiss him on camera again. In fact, he decides, he’ll probably ask you even if they don’t. Because as good as showing you off felt, it didn’t feel nearly as good as showing off that you were his and he was yours.

[the-prettiest-teardrop]

Second Chance Ch. 1

Pairing- Childhoodbestfriend!Steve x Introverted!reader

Warnings- Drunk Steve, Alcohol mention, Steve being an asshole, regret, kissing.

A/N- This was so fun to write, and part 2 should be out soon. This actually hit close to home tho cuz I got dumped by my childhood bestie right after lockdown ended

———

Steve-fucking-Harrington, childhood best friend, turned to someone you considered an enemy.

Elementary school was great, sitting on the porch together, eating popsicles, fighting over who was the faster runner. Middle school wasn’t bad either, minus a few arguments and awkward moments. Late nights were spent lying in your backyard, giggling and gossiping over who had a crush on who, and who was dating who. This was around the time you started noticing his popularity rise, more girls were starting to take interest in him, I mean, yourself included, but that was something he never knew. High school is when things went downhill, rather than laughing with him on the porch, you sat alone, staring down at your shoes, hiding inside whenever him and his new, cool friends came driving past your house. It all still hurt, the way it was as if you were erased from his memory, like he never knew you at all. 

Your phone rang, interrupting your otherwise quiet night. You set down your book, “Pride and Prejudice” and picked up the phone.

“Hey, Y/N, you think you could come help me out?” It was Robin’s voice, and you could hear drunken chatter and the other sounds of a party in the background.

“Depends on what it is.” You reply with an exasperated sigh, you were trying to have a relaxing night in, and having to save someone at a party didn’t sound like something you wanted to do right now.

“Listen, I need help getting Steve home, and before you complain, I’m not gonna be able to drive him home and you’re the only one I know that could help.” She explains before you can interject. She knew how he hurt you, and how you still disliked him to this day.

“God, fine, only because I want you to be happy.” You groan as Robin thanks you before hanging up. You put the phone back on the receiver and make your way to the party. 

Once you arrive at the house, you’re immediately hit with the overwhelming scent of alcohol and vomit, making you gag. You quickly find Robin, a drunken Steve at her side.

“Did you get him water?” You ask with a sigh, already over having to deal with him.

“Mhm, now get him home please, I’ve got things to do.” Robin reply’s, helping shift him toward you. You wrap an arm around the drunken boy, his hazy eyes meeting yours.

“I know I’m the last person you want to spend the night with, but let’s go.” You murmur, and he luckily complies as you get him into your car.

The drive home is fairly silent, until you turn onto your street.

“I don’t know why I ditched you.” He slurs drunkenly, and your heart seizes. You knew he wasn’t in his right mind, but hearing him say those words still meant something. “I thought they were cool or whatever, but now everyone’s off to college and I’m stuck working a stupid, dead-end job.” His words were sincere, no matter how drunk he was, it was all the truth. You couldn’t help but feel bad for him, it seemed like he’d changed, not completely, but enough to give him another chance.

“C’mon, let’s get you inside.” You murmur, helping him out of the car and into your house, where you then got him settled on the couch.

You could hear him mumbling to himself as you got him water, and when you set it on the coffee table in front of him, his eyes landed on your face.

“You’re pretty, you’ve always been pretty.” He slurs, and you give a brief smile, acknowledging the comment without giving it any time to blossom into anything more.

You brought him a blanket, telling him to rest before retreating to your bedroom. 

As you laid in bed that night, his words kept replaying in your head, and you couldn’t help the little swell of excitement you got in your chest when you thought of him. He was still as handsome as always, with his gorgeous carmel locks and big brown eyes. You dreamed of him, of what it would’ve been like if he hadn’t ditched you, if your life hadn’t taken that turn.

In your dreams, you lay in his arms, his face tucked into your neck. You were utterly in love, attending college together, planning out the rest of your lives. Unfortunately, when you woke up, you were forced to face the harsh reality.

You walked downstairs, expecting to see Steve on the couch, but he was nowhere to be found, until you spotted him out on the porch.

“What are you doing out here?” You ask quietly, confused as to his sudden change in location.

“You deserve an apology, and I figured there was no better place to do it.” He says quietly, his voice low as you sit down beside him. “I really shouldn’t have done that, I was an asshole to you, and look where that got me. I know this isn’t nearly what you deserve in the forms of an apology, and I understand if you never want to see me ever again.” He explains, looking down at his shoes.

“Thank you, I mean, I can kinda understand why you did it, being popular feels good, especially when there’s no one at home to make you feel like you matter.” You knew all too well about the situation at home, all the times he stayed over at your house as kids, all thanks to his neglectful parents. “For the record, I really don’t want to lose you, not after getting you back.” You add, and you find your hand in his, fingers laced together.

“You know, I had a crush on you all through elementary and middle school, always thought you were pretty, even after I left.” He says, squeezing your hand a little.

“I know, last night, you said some things. I’ve always liked you too, I mean, I don’t think that’s a huge surprise, everyone likes you.” You smile sadly, which makes his heart ache. He’d hurt you enough, and didn’t want to do any more damage.

“I’d be willing to give us another chance, but maybe as more than friends.” He offers, his tone soft, fearing rejection. Your silence scared him, but before he could react, you were pressing your lips to his, and his hands flew to your lower back, holding you close.

You spent most of the day like that, sitting on the porch and chatting, catching up on the last 4 years.

[kisseobie]

OH AND-idk if you’ve received a request abt this before but I’ll take my chance, piwon with an s/o who has nipples or a tongue piercing 🤭

- 🪼 anon

p1harmony with a s/o who has specific piercings

pairings: ot6 p1harmony x reader

genre: nsfw (mdni)

a/n: hii 🪼 anon! thank u so much for this request.. i have always wanted these types of piercings so this was fun to think abt :P i hope it’s okay that i included more than just the piercings u mentioned, i wanted some variety and couldn’t help myself lol

*ੈ keeho

kyo would beggggg you to get a clit piercing. kind of alludes to how hot it would be but he’s mostly just teasing—he doesn’t mind if you shoot down his jokes about it because at the end of the day it’s your body. when you do surprise him with one, probably getting it done when he’s touring so it has some time to heal, he’s dropping to his knees quicker than he’s ever done before, ready to eat you whole and gauge what reactions the heightened sensitivity from the jewel will get out of you. i can see him kissing your clit, right atop the pretty piercing, then replacing his lips with his tongue… would make a “v” shape with his fingers on your cunt just to spread you out so he can fully devour the view. taps the tip of his cock against the stud, and gets addicted to the mix of pain and pleasure when it slightly sinks into the slit of his cockhead .. buys you jewelry every now and then and makes you model it for him… yum

*ੈ theo

taeyang might be a mood maker, but he’s still very shy in nature, so i don’t think he’d ever express his desires for your nipples to be pierced directly to you, but he’s definitely fantasized about it. he might have drunkenly mentioned his little fantasy to one of his members late at night, when he’s assumed you’ve passed out on his thigh, when in reality, you were fully awake… if you surprise him in the future by flashing him, he’s immediately grabbing you by the waist with a crazed look in his eyes. lovesss pinching your buds and sucking at them whilst making eye contact with you, in fact i don’t think there’s anything he loves more. if you mix and match the color of your nipple jewelry with your lingerie sets, trust and believe he’s fucking your boobs and spilling all over them :P oh and he loves helping you switch and pick out your jewelry .. praises you all the time with words like “got your tits all dolled up for me, angel? you’re driving me crazy.”

*ੈ jiung

i’ve mentioned before that this man is a sucker for blowjobs, and if you get a tongue piercing and give him head? he’s losing his fucking mind.. would get all rough with it, standing up and slapping his cockhead against your tongue—decorated with a little bud of metal that he oh so adores. jiung would whine out from the added stimulation of your tongue piercing, especially when it would drag over the prominent vein etched on his shaft. would have you on your knees with your tongue stuck out as he fucks into his fist, making sure that when he comes, he paints your tongue, and your little stud, white :3 he’s soooo nasty with it… would probably think about getting a tongue piercing as well, especially after feeling how yours feels against his dick.. i feel like ji is such an experimentalist so he’d wanna know how a tongue piercing would make you feel … woah guys jiung tongue piercing WHEN?

*ੈ intak

intak is a simple man at heart, so he doesn’t need you to have any fancy piercings for him to get riled up. just a typical nostril hoop or loaded ears are enough for him to feel like the luckiest man on earth.. is always telling you how badass you are, it’s actually very endearing. ooh but if you do want to catch him completely off guard .. getting his name tattooed in traditional cursive lettering, with a single dermal stud on the “i” in his name, would bring a possessive side out of intak like you’ve never seen before. he’d probably spend many mornings admiring your piercings whilst watch you sleep, would definitely kiss the jewelry and help you clean the pierced skin with saline solution. doesn’t particularly want piercings of his own, but he’d buy those fake ones, matching yours just to surprise you one day (he’d be giggling because he thought he looked ridiculous, but would be pleasantly surprised of you pounced on him and found the potential piercings sexy) :D

*ੈ soul

any dermal or facial piercings would fuck shota up for sure. back dermals or angel bites, he doesn’t really care exactly what you opt to get.. he just loves to see his girlfriend pierced up tbh. imagining you with back dermals though.. i think soulie would be so amazed at how brave you would be to get them, as they are known as being pretty painful piercings. would accompany you to your appointment and hold your hand so sweetly throughout the entire process, and then he’d take you home and fuck you from the back so he’d have the perfect view of the new jewelry. once you’re all healed up, he’s definitely making excuses to cum on your back when you in fact know he’s just obsessed with coming on top of the studs <33 and if you have facial piercings? he’s kissing them as he pounds into your heat, making out with you impossibly close and hissing at the way the jewelry pokes at his soft skin. like jiung, he might even try to get matching piercings with you :3

*ੈ jongseob

get your belly button pierced and jongseob is fucking you into next week. his emo self would be so stoked if his girlfriend decided to get her belly button pierced. loves you and your crop tops already, but he doesn’t realize until you’ve been pierced just how much he loves the sight of your tummy out and about, especially now that it’s been decorated with a little pink heart charm. finds it so cute and so sexy, would definitely pull you into him and wrap his hands around your waist, thumbs etching little circles into your skin and getting dangerously close to the piercing.. oh and i can’t write jongseob without mentioning his love for photography. can you imagine getting your button pierced and seobie taking polaroid pictures of you on his bed, topless and only wearing some skimpy panties.. ugh and he loves looking at how ur tummy bulges when he’s fucking into you, the piercing being the cherry on top.. oh i’m gonna faint

taglist: @woozixo @hearts4chanhee @kyokopi @astro-doll-the-star @soobiary @kyaaramello @t3ssamoodboard @angelcbf @idontknow-1s-world @vivienne-sim @elissasimp @imjustayapper @ihatewreckingballmains @sosaverse @seobing @www90kitsch @khfviq @barbiekh86t @bbyjjunie @taeyangi @fullsunstrawberry @jihnyah @intheemptymirror @watamotee33 @dreamer1299 @jixnnsie @wonootnoot @yukx-x047 @sundancearchives @chuuswifereal @seisyiss @fishsquishh @sunnyyangie @asianpenguin04

© kisseobie, please do not repost my writing!

ੈ ₊ ° .

[gorae]

eyeliner 101

pairing  —  lee jihoon (seventeen) x gn!reader

tags  —  fluff, established relationship, reader is pretty good at eyeliner, 0.9k words, unedited

there are certain days where you and jihoon are far too tired to go out and end up staying at home doing nothing.

today is no exception.

you are nestled in between jihoon's outstretched legs, with one of his arms around your middle. with every breath, his chest rises up and down against your back, and sooner than later your breathing becomes synchronized with his. both of your gazes are stuck to your phone screen, watching a youtuber apply makeup to their face.

“that looks difficult.” jihoon's deep voice rumbles from behind you.

you turn your head ever so slightly so you could see his face, giggling once you catch sight of his furrowed eyebrows. seems like he’s more invested in this youtube video than you are. “it’s not that hard once you get used to it,” you reply, amused by his undivided attention on the video playing.

“i’ve never had mine done that way before,” he mumbles, thinking out loud.

an idea immediately sparks to life in your mind. “wanna try?” you grin, looking up at him.

the turn of jihoon’s head towards you is quickly followed by an excited nod of approval. you push yourself off his warm embrace immediately after his response. scurrying to your dresser, you search your makeup bag and pull out a black eyeliner.

when you turn around, you find your boyfriend sitting on the edge of your bed, his focus already back on your phone screen. you bite your lip, holding back a laugh. “you ready?” you ask, walking back to stand in front of him.

“so you’re saying,” jihoon looks up at you, “you’re gonna do my eyeliner exactly like this.” he has an incredulous look in his eyes as he motions to your phone.

you squint your eyes. “are you underestimating me?”

jihoon's eyes widen. “no, of course not,” he stammers, scared to have hurt your feelings. unconsciously, his hands move to rub up and down your thighs, slightly pushing you to stand closer to him.

you giggle. “i’m joking, babe,” you say, as a sigh of relief escapes him. with a free hand, you tilt his chin upwards to face you. “now close your eyes.”

with a fond smile on his lips, jihoon complies and closes his eyes shut. you hold back his hair, then you rest your other hand on his cheekbone and started drawing on his eyelid with gentle strokes. you are too busy to notice him opening one of his eyes to marvel at your concentrated face in such close proximity.

“you are so cute,” he whispers under his breath, loud enough for you to hear.

despite your heated cheeks, you shush him, not wanting anything to distract you from your work of art. jihoon smirks lightly at your reaction.

thankfully, your boyfriend managed to behave himself until you finish drawing winged eyeliner on both of his eyelids. taking a step back, you finally get to admire your masterpiece.

“i know i look good, you don’t have to stare that hard,” jihoon wiggles his eyebrows, only to have you roll your eyes in return.

ignoring him, you usher him to the mirror on your dresser, making him look at your work. “how did i do?”

“it looks really good.” jihoon turns his face this way and that, inspecting how the eyeliner enhances his eyes.

“tha-”

“i look really good.” he laughs when he sees you glare at him from the mirror. “can i try?” he asks as he turns around and walks back to you.

you tilt your head. “try what?”

“can i try putting eyeliner on you?”

after a few seconds of contemplation (and calculating the chances of him messing up and end up poking your eyeball with the eyeliner brush), you shrug. “okay. but be gentle and try not to poke my eyes.”

“of course.” jihoon makes you sit down on the bed and takes the eyeliner from your hand. “close your eyes, love.”

the last thing you see before closing your eyes was his mischievous smile (which in retrospect, should’ve been a warning to what he’s about to do). ignoring your suspicions, you stay quiet as you feel jihoon’s fingers tilting your chin up. mimicking your previous actions, he brushes your hair away from your face and rests a hand on your cheek.

everything was peace and quiet until you feel the brush stroking tip of your nose. your eyes shoot open, immediately leaning back to stay away from his reach. “ji, what are you-”

jihoon lets out a roar of laughter before saying, “wait- wait i’m not finished-”

“why are you drawing on my nose?” you whine, arms reaching out to try and grab the eyeliner back from jihoon. unfortunately for you, he effortlessly stretches his arm way out of your reach while continuing to laugh at the black spot on your nose.

giving up rather quickly, you pout before standing up to catch your reflection in the mirror.

and there it is. a jet black dot covering the tip of your nose. you whine jihoon’s name in protest, but it only makes him laugh louder.

“wait, i can make it look better,” he says, nearing towards you. you narrow your eyes at him. “i swear!”

you grumble quietly as he draws three lines on both of your cheeks. “i hate you.” you glance at the absurd drawings decorating your face in the mirror before turning back to jihoon.

“you look adorable,” he snickers.

(you really do. jihoon is genuinely complimenting you but you are far too exasperated to notice.)

“shut up.”