#my period is kicking my poor little ass today ;___; | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

gunnrblze · 3 months

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What are friends for?

Here to bring you my poorly written, monthly ovulation freak/fluff writing. Enjoy whatever tf this is about Kick, Mr. Amber Eyes himself. Got away from myself and wrote MUCH more than intended lol (6400+ help me. lost the plot fr). MDNI, 18+

CW: period sex. it’s a little gross🥰. fluff and cuteness and the like

. . ・。 . ・゜ ✭ ・ ☽ ・ ✫ ・゜・。 . .

Stripping off your uniform, you felt icky from the days sweat and grime tacking your skin, the added sensation of a constant stream of blood trickling from between your legs never helped matters.

The shower steam eased your overused muscles as you scrubbed your body clean, deciding to go the extra mile and exfoliate because you’d be damned if you got into bed and still felt gross and sticky after the day you’ve had. Your scalp tingled sorely from having your hair tied back, and massaging it didn’t help much either.

To top it all off, your poor pussy fluttered everytime your fingers even broached the subject. Washing your inner thighs felt oddly agonizing, and washing your tender lips was a different matter. This was definitely not something they taught in torture resistance training, your melodramatic, hormonal thoughts couldn’t help but supply.

You ached. You typically didn’t even feel in the mood to touch or be touched on your period, but you swore you could feel the way your clit twitched as the shower water poured over your body. Why’d it feel so wrong, though? You watched your blood swirl with the shower water on the tile below, it’s all natural.

But you couldn’t quite bring yourself to do anything about it. You dried off, lotioned your damp skin, and pulled on your favorite military issue t-shirt. The ache in your lower belly was only partially relived by the painkillers you downed for the third time again today. The ache further south wasn’t perturbed by them, though. You couldn’t tell where the cramp ended and the needy ache of arousal started.

Despite feeling the need to retire early into the evening, your springy little bed looking more and more inviting the longer you stood upright, you forgot the godforsaken paper work that needed to be filled out and returned to your superior asap.

You sat your, literally sore, ass down on your desk chair, filling the papers out. You trudged through the hallways and toward Merricks office. You tried to be neutral and professional when he uncharacteristically yapped about the latest mission while you stood across from his desk.

You did a lot of things. You ignored the pain, the soreness, the need. Your hormones raged so much that you even had a sideways thought about your boss himself for a moment. Bald isn’t a bad look…

You almost visibly shook your head to remove the blooming thoughts from your skull, bouncing around like an untethered paddle ball. Get it together, that’s a little insane, even for you…your brain reasoned with itself for once.

What you almost couldn’t stand, was when Kick entered into Merricks office at the same time, prolonging the already dull conversation that had you cursing your choice of career.

Except he made it a bit more bearable. It’d be over soon, but you honest to god, did have more important things to attend to. The flaming heat licking up the walls of your core, for starters. Maybe you should’ve rubbed one out in the shower while you had a chance to be clean.

Kick wasn’t wearing his mask, so that square set jaw and dusting of stubble along his paled skin almost set you alight. You can’t fuck your coworkers. You can’t fuck the people you have to trust on such a deep level like this, bad girl. You reasoned and reasoned with yourself as you stood next to him, so much so that it took two booms of Merricks already commanding voice to snap you from your thoughts.

Apologizing like the good soldier you were, straightening your sore back out and professionally ignoring the way it almost ripped a whine from your throat, you focused on the topic at hand.

Which was…gun training drills? Yeah, you definitely weren’t listening.

You walked out of Merricks office with Kick in tow behind you, willfully ignoring the raised eyebrow the former man sent your way for a moment. It didn’t take much to intrigue him, but your lack of focus and attention was unlike you, your posture sloppier than it should be.

And that only intrigued Kick too.

“Feeling alright?” He offered as you pathetically padded down the weirdly lit hallway. You didn’t really trust all of your instincts right now, so if he was smelling you like you imagined he was, then so be it.

“Yeah” you forced one of those oddly specific fake smiles. The one where your lips stretched thin enough to let the other person know you were probably anything but fine.

He was too adept to fall for it, walking a pace behind you to your left. He knew you too well, knew that look too well.

“Not feeling well?” He didn’t take your word for it, the sound of boots squeaking down the hall the only noise other than the ambient sounds around base. You knew he’d pry a little, he couldn’t help it when it came to a friend. But hopefully he wouldn’t press too much.

“Guess not. Just tired. Long day” you offered up, a decent excuse and not entirely a lie. You were tired. It was a long day. You just had an insatiable, voracious little thing crawling around the walls of your skull, something that slithered its way down to your pussy and threatened to squeeze the life out of it, lest you snuff it out. A need that you knew would only be satisfied by letting yourself slip past the mental barrier of touching yourself while actively bleeding.

You were a soldier, for Christ’s sake. It was just blood. Seen plenty of it, been covered in plenty of it. Used to it. But something about it leaking from you, from an area already so sensitive…it felt wrong. Dirty. A little tainted, despite being so natural. And you hated that feeling. Like your own body was gross.

“Yeah” he nodded a bit more neutrally than you expected. He usually pried, like you’d already figured he’d do. Maybe he wouldn’t-

“Back hurts, huh?” He added before you could finish a thought. You knew not to doubt Kick, so expecting him to finish a thought with a simple yeah was on you.

“How’d you know?” You asked, intrigued laced in your voice, almost a bit of humor. How would he know? Were you that obvious or was he that attuned to his fellow operators?

“Practically slumped over back there in Merricks office…pull a muscle or something?” He asks, just a small smile gracing the corners of his mouth. A sight you ignored staring at for too long as he fell in step beside you, either of you pushing open the double doors to the command building. Synchronous in your steps and movements. You probably did pull a muscle during training, although your entire lower half was already in shambles anyhow.

The night air was a little stuffy, and it only proved to make you feel sticky all over again. You didn’t think to question where he was headed, he just sort of followed you in the direction of your quarters.

“Probably” you huffed a laugh, palming over your lower stomach instinctively when a particularly sharper cramp threatened to show itself. Not unseen by your fellow soldier, no…too observant for that. His eyes flicked down and then back up to yours, ahead once more as he walked alongside you.

“That’s not all, is it?” He gave an almost sympathetic look, that small, friendly sort of smile cresting his lips again as he tossed a look over to you. You met it with an eye roll that lacked any real attitude, unconsciously matching that hint of smile.

His eyes practically glowed in the dim lights around base. The scent of his natural musk mixed with whatever deodorant he had on made you feel stupid in the head. Needy for even the lightest of touch, just a fleeting hand on the small of your back would probably do it. You could go in your room again and just get over yourself, shove a hand down your pants, pretend the slick on your pussy is regular arousal and not the faint metallic scented blood that your body insisted on producing every month.

It’d be easy, actually. You were so needy you felt like a whine would escape you any moment. Aching for touch, comfort, a massive portion of something greasy and deep fried, even. But you’d settle for two fingers rubbing over your swollen clit if it meant your brain would turn itself off for a moment.

And if he didn’t seem to pick up on it with little to no visual cues…what was he, a bloodhound? You hated the double entendre your brain came up with, almost laughing where you should’ve responded already.

“It’s fine…just gonna go rest for the night” you said, the casual tone in your voice wavering a bit as you watched his amber eyes rake over your body from the corner of your eye.

Walking next to him suddenly felt electric. A live wire strung between your bodies, threatening to zap you if you approached it. The tension wasn’t anxiety inducing, it was hot. It licked up the front of your body, heating your cheeks and melting your brain a little. It inserted itself seemingly out of nowhere, and you couldn’t place what to do with it.

“Yeah?” His voice edged a little deeper. Already a bit low in its own right, the honeyed kind of voice that shot straight to your already swollen pussy. Tacking that onto his scent that was noticeable enough to fill your nostrils, and the warmth from his body that only added to the stuffy weather outside, well…it was almost too damn much.

“I wager you’ve already taken a wild amount of painkillers today…?” He asked rhetorically, trying and failing to hide the little smirk that rounded the corner of his mouth. You chanced a glance up at him, and regretted it as soon as you decided. He looked too handsome, and you looked too desperate for human contact.

“Maybe” you huffed out quieter, almost petulantly. Curling up under your blanket and holding onto a spare pillow for comfort wouldn’t be enough tonight, you’d also be flooded with that dull ache while doing so, lucky for you. The needy, almost clingy part of you threatened to escape, if not for the furrow of your eyebrows already doing most of the trick.

He visibly pondered something for a moment. Eyes flicking over to you once more as you two rounded the corner near your quarters. You didn’t know where he’d be going had he not met with you in Merricks office, but it obviously wasn’t too important as he followed you further.

“Need anything?” He asked, a probing sort of question. Too broad of a question for you to answer truthfully. Just bold enough for his style, obvious intentions clear, but not pushing you into any specific direction.

Yes. You needed a lot. You needed him to wrap you up in a hug so tight it made the thoughts leak from your ears. You needed him to hold you, to put something in your aching hole and make you forget your damned name. Your longing was at risk of being exposed the longer his deep, airy voice lingered between the two of you.

You shrugged like you always did, opening the door of your building with a weaker hand than normal. You were an expert at evading the obvious, subconsciously assuming a shrug and lack of any real answer would quell the feelings you had. Would turn them to dust and let this problem fade away.

But your dearest Kick was simply too generous for that.

“Not an answer, sweetheart” he supplied as he shamelessly followed you into the building and down the hall towards your quarters. It was so casual you almost didn’t think twice. Friendly, until he started to walk closer, started to put that hand right on your lower back, making you nearly pout on the spot.

“Kick” you audibly whined this time. Letting it fall right out of you as he practically ushered you down your hall. It made the smirk on his face blossom into a grin, which made you feel even worse. Trapped in a state of ache and longing, your uterus wreaking havoc on every cell in your body.

“C’mon honey…talk to me” he said, voice smooth and deeper and hotter. You couldn’t focus, not with the way his presence kept the fire inside you lit, the way it stretched that flame up and up and up until you felt like smoke would leak from your pores.

“Not feeling well” you pouted this time as you stopped at your door, hand on the doorknob, unsure of what to do next, but also not quite thinking about it too much. Your brain turned to mush from hormones, so many sensations wracking your body and mind it felt overwhelming. His presence only served to overstimulate, albeit it in a generally positive way.

“I know ya aren’t” he said, crossing his thick, muscled arms over his chest, looking down at you with a tilted head and a soft look on his face that made the monster of longing threaten to eat you up from the inside out. You willed tears not to well in your eyes, but they got a bit glassier in the hallway lighting and made it impossible not to notice.

“Asked you what you needed, honey…you can talk to me” he insisted softly, a big hand coming up to meet your cheek, long slender fingers curving around the underside of your jaw. The warm touch made your eyebrows furrow more, looking up at him with a need you didn’t possibly think could be conveyed with words.

He stepped closer and wrapped you into a hug, discreetly checking the hallway for any onlookers that conveniently weren’t there. His body was warm, his scent assaulting your senses even more now. You let out a sighing breath, partially of relief, the rest of something more whiny and pathetic.

“Need this” you murmured weakly into his broad chest, cheek resting between his pecs that were so well sculpted it made you want to rip your hair out. Unfair to be this hot.

“Yeah? What else do you need?” He asked lowly, a hand smoothing up and down your back as he held you tightly to his body, like a weighted blanket soothing your weakened nerves.

“I dunno…” you lied a little, unsure of what exactly you could or should ask from him. You worked with Kick, he was a fellow operator, a friend, and someone you knew you could trust with something like this, if anything. But you couldn’t exactly say the words ‘fuck me and pretend I’m not on my period pleasepleaseplease-‘ even if you wanted to.

The distant memory of getting yourself off in this state crossed your mind again, but with him almost literally knocking at your door as he hugged you outside of it, you wanted to grab onto the opportunity as presented. But you couldn’t. When was the last time you had a boyfriend or a fuck buddy that was willing to have period sex? Never. No reason to think he’d magically be different, you wagered.

“What would make you feel better right now, hm?” He’d test the waters a bit, unable to decipher if the little sniffles coming from your face smushed into his chest warranted an evening of hugs and cuddles, or for what that more diabolical part of his brain secretly wished for.

“Get you something to eat, maybe we could curl up and watch a movie? That what you need, baby?” And God above, if the way baby slid out of his lips alone didn’t have you pressing yourself against him further…

He took everything you gave him, resting his chin atop your head, smoothing your hair down, holding you closer as your boots shuffled on the squeaky tile of the hallway. You didn’t care that you were in the hallway, he didn’t seem to care either. You were alone with him as alone could get in this moment, for all you cared.

“Or do you need something else too, hm?” The question hung in the air as you tried not to lean into his strong body fully. You had to maintain some semblance of control, but the way his warmth enveloped you, the way it liquidated your brain matter and shot straight down to your pussy made it hard to think straight.

“Can’t do that…” you murmured more meekly than you would’ve preferred, voice tinged with dissatisfaction and disappointment that made your achy bones threaten to turn to sludge. “Wrong time of month” you decided to go ahead and admit what he already figured out.

Nothing wrong with admitting that. You may not be able to get around to touching yourself while on your period, but you don’t care to admit it to a friend. Too much of an adult now to feel ashamed.

You just weren’t quite expecting his follow up to be anything short of understanding and maybe some loose disappointment.

“Yeah, sweetheart…I know.” He nodded gently “Don’t care, either.” You were certain he may have just been saying that to say it, to comfort you perhaps. But he didn’t follow up. He let it hang in the air as he held you tightly against him, flickering hallway lights the last thing on your mind as you two exchanged hushed murmurs.

You felt like a rock stuck in the very hard place you didn’t want to be. You desperately craved something more from him. Something beyond the hug that was, fortunately, doing a lot to soothe you. Craved the cock you swore you could feel half hardened against your torso.

“A little…gross, don’t ya think?” You muttered into his chest, arms almost subconsciously wrapping around him tighter, anchoring your body against his.

His body rumbled with a little chuckle, hand still rubbing up and down your back, your entire body full of warmth and some ooey-gooey mix of comfort and arousal. Sticky sweet and threatening to consume you whole.

“Gross? Nothing gross about that…” he spoke more deeply, voice making a near shiver go down your spine, lips parting gently as you bit on the bottom one, a self soothing tactic, you convinced yourself.

“Only if you want, honey…only if you need…” he reminded. You couldn’t help the way you pressed chest further into his, sore breasts making you wince a little as he held you so tight against him.

“Heard it can help with cramps…you ever tried it?” He murmured as he lowered his head a bit, closer to your ear. Pressing a kiss to your temple, you almost whimpered this time. The idea of you touching yourself on your period was one thing you could hardly see past, but to have your sexy as hell coworker and friend offering to fuck you in this state? You weren’t sure if your brain was working correctly.

“No” you murmured, head lifting from his chest to not so confidently look up at him again. “Kick…” you almost pouted again, your tone not quite a question, not quite a statement. Something in between. Something that silently beckoned reassurance.

“I know, I know…” he nodded, bringing that same hand to your cheek again as he looked down at you, something new smoldering in his amber eyes. Something that looked almost as needy as whatever plagued your own.

His lips lowered themselves to yours before you could think, your mushy, hormonal brain lagging way too much. You let out a sigh, his lips warm and just a little chapped. Both hands sliding firmly but softly down your shoulders and back, holding you gently by the hips.

You peeled one of your arms off from around his waist, which had him stilling for just a moment until he heard the click of your door opening behind you. He guided you inside, mouth on yours as he took his turn grabbing for the doorknob, shutting you two up inside your room.

His hands were strong, securing you between the back of your door and his study, broad body. You were already too turned on for your own good, horny and needy and greedy for something. You couldn’t even think about the nerves prickling your skin at the thought of him fucking your bleeding hole, much as the thought also served to turn something on deep inside your brain. Something that felt gross to even enjoy.

Some kind of moan, a breathy little thing escaped you when he trailed his lips down the curved of your neck, towards the junction that turned into your shoulder. You felt his lips curl up into a smile over your skin, hands slowly sliding down to your hips, a thumb smoothing over your belt that had you ready to agree before anything was even asked of you.

“Please…please, Kick…” you found yourself already begging pathetically. Any reservations you had slowly started to dwindle as he gently untucked your shirt from the tactical pants you had to throw right back on after your earlier shower. Breaking away only to pull your shirt off your body, your arms lifting before you could consider it, you watched that flame flicker in his bright eyes again.

“Jesus, I knew you were just as beautiful underneath…” he’d rasp out, hands smoothing up your sides again, gently cupping over your bra. Your poor tits were so sore and tender underneath, but his touch soothed over it like a balm. You bit your lip on instinct as he led you over to your bed, lips practically glued to yours once more.

The next few minutes became clouded in your brain. His shirt came off, your hands immediately reaching for the toned muscle of his abdomen, climbing up over his pecs and to his broad shoulders. All thick and lean muscle wrapped taut under his skin, an unmistakably bullet wound scar that graced his paleness right next to the edge of his collarbone.

Your belt was undone somewhere in there, being tossed into the pile of clothes forming on your floor. Your body was littered with a heat that left you unable to do anything but make those soft little noises, the whines and little moans that escaped you as his lips trailed softly all over your skin.

He was gentle. Easy and soft and gentle with you. Holding your body with a care that could’ve made you emotional, had you not been blinded by arousal and the desire that claimed every inch of your body. Like you were a statue that could crack under the slightest pressure, a box of fine china with a sticker that read ‘handle with care’ strapped over top of it. With a reverence that could’ve had you wondering just how much of a friendly favor this really was.

But you couldn’t wonder when he peeled your bra off you, his hands cupping your sore tits again as he audibly sucked in a breath.

Your little squeak noise had him glancing back up at you, a smile on his face. It was all so natural with him it almost confused you. As if this were a routine you’d danced with him before.

“Sore?” He murmured, hardly giving you room to answer as his head descended toward a swole nipple. Licking the flat of his tongue over top it, your lips parted in a shaky moan, your body so reactive and sensitive it even surprised you a bit.

“Y-yeah” you nodded, voice weak and breathy. The darkness of your room only saved by some moonlight peaking through the slats of your window blinds, illuminating just enough for you to watch him cup the bottom of your tits and lick over your other taut nipple.

Your breath was shaky, moans soft and whiny and full of unspoken desire. A whimpery uttering of his name hardly changed his pace though, as he responded by wrapping his lips around the nipple he was working on, sucking just enough to have you squirming a little in your spot on the bed, mixing pleasantly with the tender ache in your tits.

“How ya wanna do this, sweetheart, hm?” He’d ask as he switched to suckle on your other sore nipple, making your back arch and voice shake.

“Wanna get a towel? Lay you out all pretty and let me make you feel better?” His voice huskier than it had been, passively hungry with desire. His own need flamed through his body, cock rock hard in his tac pants, hands gently rubbing over every inch of your exposed skin.

“Maybe a shower? You get whatever you want, pretty girl…just tell Kick what you want” he rasped lowly, the third person use of his name somehow hotter than you imagined it ever could be. You just couldn’t think very well what you wanted, unfortunately. His mouth, his cock, his hands all over you, certainly. But how, with your blood threatening to stain everywhere had you thinking once again about the logistics.

“Already showered…” you managed to squeak out as he sucked a little more firmly on your nipple, making your hands grasp at his shoulders, desperate for more. More of everything.

“Yeah? How about I get a towel while you lay out and get comfy…i’ll give you whatever you need, angel…promise” he whispered heavily as he kissed his way up your chest and collarbone, up your neck and to your ear. He could sense all your hesitation about this, and was determined to melt it away, under the very pads of his fingertips if he had to.

You could only relent, whining just a little as he pulled away from your body as stood up off the bed. A shirtless Kick was a sight you’d seen plenty times before during training, but this was different. He smiled, leaning down to kiss your forehead so tenderly it almost made your teeth ache from the sweetness.

You, rather unconfidently, peeled your pants off while he was in your bathroom. You had on regular issue underwear, and a pad. You didn’t get to actually think this far, your brain only attempted to.

You freaked just a little, what do you do with your panties? If he sees your pad, surely he’ll be turned off, no? That’s definitely too intimate of a thing for him to just see, right? Your cheeks started to burn with embarrassment, attempting to tar over all the nice, warm, gooey feelings you had.

But he returned with a clean towel before you could figure it out. Walking so confidently back over to your bed, breath hitching just a little as he watched you sitting in just your panties, his bottom lip finding its way between his teeth.

You looked up at him, breathing a little too heavily, tears nearly welling in your eyes once more from the overwhelm of it all. You knew you had no reason to be embarrassed of a period. He knew you were on it, offered to fuck you, wanted to fuck you. He wasn’t the one that cared…

“Hey, what is it, sweetheart?” He asked a little more confusedly this time, but the softness prevailed. A big hand reaching out to cup your cheek as he stepped closer to you, setting the towel on the bed and taking his own seat next to you again.

“I dunno…” you murmured, voice too meek for your liking, but you were too far gone to help yourself anymore. Tears dripped from your eyes, an odd mix of embarrassment and hormones sweeping you up and wrapping you in an unwelcome embrace.

“We don’t have to do this, love…we can get dressed and cuddle or something instead…it’s all up to you” he reassured, scooting closer and wrapping you into a hug. More caring and understanding than you told yourself you deserved.

You muttered something about being embarrassed before you could even think it through, and his hand stroking your hair paused only for a moment, before his voice, so airy in its depths, murmured in your ear.

“I’m not ashamed of your body or what it does, I only wanna make you feel good, sweetheart. Only wanna help you, if I can” his words were more tender and thoughtful than you figured they’d be. Maybe you should stop underestimating him, you briefly thought.

Your voice was absent for a moment, only a sniffle of the tears that served to make you feel more pathetic as time went on sounded in your room. You mumbled into his chest, voice quiet and unmistakably full of need and that aching longing for him. For all of him.

“M’wearing a pad…dunno what to do with it…or my panties” it sounded stupid coming out of your mouth, but you didn’t know how to handle any of this. Far too horny and emotional to think.

You couldn’t see his smile, as you had your face nuzzled into his bare chest, inhaling and getting lost in his scent, but you could hear it in his voice. He suggested you take them off, fold them up and set it on the nightstand for now, that you two could dispose of it all later.

And it sounded…idiotically straightforward. You almost got even more embarrassed, undecided if you were making a big deal of it all. You just weren’t aware that nothing you could say or do would perturb him.

You couldn’t help but relent to your insecurities and fears. You slowly lifted your head from his chest, watching the smile form on his lips again and feeling your heart melting at the sight, before you stood up slowly from your bed.

He watched, and took the towel from behind him, laying it on the bed to catch any leaks. It was all so strangely intimate, and he seemed almost well versed in how to handle something like this. Confidence not faltering once. You slowly slid your panties off, catching a sight of the blood stained pad before you folded them up, setting them on the nightstand like he said.

You wondered about cleanliness, your brain telling you the very blood from your body was still something to take with disgust, but you quickly realized there was nothing wrong with any of this, really. Nothing was getting tainted or ruined by a mildly soiled pad sitting folded on your nightstand for probably no more than an hour or two.

But then you worried about the smell. You tried not to get ashamed all over again. Instead, sitting on the towel that he laid on the bed. Your poor pussy aching and swollen already, hormones raging and cueing your body up, far before you got turned on earlier.

He only looked at you with that same reverence, taking in the sight of your now fully nude form, only slightly visibly in the dim moonlight coming from the window next to your bed. He smiled, something warm and fond, his eyes alight with a hunger, though.

He scooted closer still, bringing a hand to the back of your head to kiss you once more. It made you breathless all over again, and whiny. You babbled something about needing him, a please and a whimper laced in somewhere.

And thankfully he took mercy.

All while keeping his lips to yours, he reached for his belt. You listened loosely to the sounds of it clinking and unbuckling, before he slid it from his waist. Followed by the button and zipper of his tac pants being undone. Lifting his hips just enough to slide them off along with his boxers, his cock sprang free. Rock hard and beading precum at the tip, the sight you caught of it had your clit nearly twitching.

He lowered you gently to the bed, hovering atop you as he kissed along your jaw and neck. Your legs spread on instinct as he crawled between them. You were becoming less and less preoccupied with the fact that you were actively bleeding between them.

His arm on one side of your head as his free hand gently kneading your tit. The soreness only added to the sensation. His touch gentle enough to make it more pleasant than you thought it could be.

“That’s it, sweetheart, just let me take care of you…just relax…nothing to be embarrassed of” he murmured next to your ear, that free hand leaving your tit to take a hold of his throbbing cock, sliding it between the lips of your pussy, mutual noises escaping both your throats.

He eased the thick tip into your pussy, gently sliding it in, inch by inch. Agonizingly slow, the moans leaving you were full on whines at this point. Your blood was lube enough, but you were so swollen and tender that the pleasure was heightened ten fold.

You gasped as he buried himself inside you fully, a groan ripped from his throat as he held himself up over your body, years of training not making him even sweat.

What made him sweat was how tight you were. So tender and velvety, swallowing his cock with ease as you looked up at him with those pleading eyes.

He got the memo, and started to thrust slowly. His hard length dragging deliciously along your plump walls, your body alight with so much heat and warmth and tenderness that you got lost in the feeling immediately. Your arms wrapping around his neck, lips permanently parted as you let out those breathy moans that had him willing himself to keep at this slow pace he was starting with.

“There she is…that’s it, love…doing so well right now. That feel good for you?” He asked huskily, his words nearly flying right over your head as he thrusted languidly into your sticky hole. The relief of being fucked nearly brought tears to your eyes all over again, your poor hormones all over the place.

You nodded, breathing out a shaky yes as he slowly picked up the pace, groaning at how easy his cock slid in and out. He couldn’t help but look down, the view of it all obscured in the darkness of your room. But something about this had him pathetically holding himself back.

He wasn’t sure if he could admit it, but there was something about fucking you while you were in this state that ticked off some box in his brain. Something almost icky, primal, perhaps. Feral. What mattered the most to him though was that he gave you that fix you so desperately needed.

He picked up the pace, setting one that had your moans getting louder, your hands slipping over your mouth as he kissed your neck. The husky, breathy sounds of his low grunts in your ear made you feel a similar feral feeling. A need you didn’t realize would overtake you so heavily.

He reached a hand down between your bodies to rub at your engorged clit, taking the awkward angle with stride. Well honed, your brain distantly thought. He fucked you like he knew what he was doing.

You couldn’t voice the worry about him getting your blood on his fingers, your eyes too busy rolling back for a moment at the white hot pleasure that seared through your lower half. It was intense, almost too much, but simultaneously not enough. You mewled and moaned and whimpered into your hand, looking at him with furrowed eyebrows and glassy eyes.

A smirk curled onto his lips, his breathy grunts pouring out from his lips like a prayer. The sounds were loud, sloppy as he fucked your bloodied hole like it was something he’d been waiting for. Like he was filling a little need inside himself.

“So-so pretty like this…so gorgeous, sweetheart, taking it so damn good, yeah?” He grunted, his head dropping to the crook of your neck. You could only moan and babble into your hand, feeling an orgasm well up far sooner than it usually did. Your legs wrapped up around his waist, body nearly clinging onto him as he kept at it.

The new angle your hips canted up into had him thrusting his tip right where you needed it most. You whined, back arching after a few more thrusts and swipes over your swollen clit, you came on his cock.

It was blinding. Your whole body warm, heat searing in your lower half, shooting all the way down your thighs. So swollen and tender already, your pussy got even hotter, it made you dizzy and sweaty and satisfied.

The noises you made, the way your eyes clamped shut, your pussy clenching tighter around his length, it made him lose his mind before he could help it. Releasing shortly after you did, flooding your walls with his hot, viscous cum as he unraveled above you, moans leaving his throat that had you so beyond turned on, there wasn’t a word in the English language that could encompass how you felt.

He collapsed a bit on-top you, careful not to squish your boneless body as it lay on your bed. You two could only catch your breath as his cock softened a bit inside you. You could feel his cum mix with your own fluid and blood. And you could be bothered to care. The towel beneath you saving the day as your mind went blank from the overwhelming sensations.

He smoothed the hair out of your face, kissing you softly and cooing at how good of a job you did. How pretty you were and how beautiful your body was. You felt like you’d won some kind of fucking lottery with him.

Your coworker, friend at most, whom you quite literally trusted with your life, was cleaning your blood up, unperturbed by the way it smeared across his cock and fingertips. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he liked it.

You were cleaned up and dressed again before you could really comprehend any of it, letting him do every bit of the work. His thick arms held you tight to his chest after he laid the two of you back down, stroking your hair and breathing deeply with you. Whispering those words of praise that had you wondering.

“What are friends for, love?”

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hollywoodxwhore · 1 year

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Ours | Chapter Three

Colson x Presley (Original Female Character)

Synopsis: Presley and Colson fell in love accidentally, but they were meant to be. Now that all the obstacles have been removed, they're moving in together in LA. Now, they have all the time in the world for Colson to teach Presley all of the things he knows. This fic is the sequel to Mine, which can be found in my masterlist!

Content/Warnings: Smut (18+), periods/blood, period sex, vomiting from pain (not graphic I promise), swearing, masturbation

Colson

I specifically planned to go to the studio later today so I could wake up with Presley.

Now, awake before her for once, I watch her sleep. She’s so beautiful, especially like this: no makeup, hair loose, wearing nothing but a big t-shirt of mine. Her lips are slightly parted as she breathes. She’s on her stomach, one arm curled up by her head, leg bent at the knee.

I lay on my side watching her with a soft smile. I know we haven’t been together all that long. It’s only been a couple of months since we started this whole thing, but when you know, you know, and I know Presley is the one. I think she feels it, too. I won’t admit this to anyone, but I’ve been looking at rings. Not in public, of course, mostly just online. I’m in contact with a jeweler and I think I’m going to design one that’s special for Pres. None of the ones already created are good enough.

As I ponder our future, Presley groans softly in her sleep, brow knitting together. I frown and watch her. She shifts under the blankets and rolls over, kicking the blankets away from her body. My eyes wander down and suddenly, my heart is in my throat. Shit.

This is totally normal. I’ve had girlfriends before. Periods don’t freak me out. But I know my girl, and I know how insecure she can get about things like this. I swear, the woman doesn’t even shit. She must wait until I’m gone or something. I’ve never even heard her burp. She’s very protective over her bodily functions. Therefore, when she wakes up and discovers she’s bled all over the sheets, she’s going to be upset.

As quietly as I can, I crawl out of bed and sneak into the bathroom. I start a bath and place a towel in the warmer. When I return to the bed, I take in a slow breath and place a hand on her shoulder. I lean down and kiss her head. “Pres,” I whisper. “Baby, wake up.”

Presley shifts and groans again, then opens her eyes slightly, peeking up at me. “Wha?” she asks, voice raspy from sleep, and I have to bite back a smile.

“Do me a favor and don’t freak out,” I murmur, trying to sound as calm as I can.

“About what?” Presley asks, tensing up.

“Baby, you started your period,” I tell her.

She blinks, then jerks away from me, looking down at herself. When she spots it, I watch her beautiful eyes widen and then gloss over. “Shit,” she whispers.

“Hey, hey,” I say soothingly, reaching over to cup her jaw. “Baby. I promise you have nothing to worry about.” She whimpers and my heart breaks a little. My poor girl. “You go get in the bath and I’ll clean this up.”

“Colson, no!” she squeaks in horror, her eyes going wide. “You can’t clean up after me. Let me do it.”

“No,” I say firmly and Presley freezes, looking up at me in surprise. My resolve cracks, though, when tears finally spill over and trail down her cheeks. “Oh, Pres,” I say, brow furrowing in anguish. I lean down and kiss her softly on her cheeks, her nose. “Do you love me?”

She nods, eyes wide and worried.

“Great. I love you, too,” I say. “I plan on marrying you someday.” Somehow, those big eyes widen even more and I watch her throat bob as she swallows hard. “I hope you’ll want to have my babies someday, too. The point is, I’m in this thing. A little blood doesn’t scare me.” Quite the opposite, actually. “So get your cute ass in the tub and let me take care of this. Deal?”

Pres blinks and her mouth closes. After a moment, she gives me a dazed nod and lets me help her out of bed. I hand her a wad of toilet paper and then turn around, giving her some privacy. Once I hear the bathroom door snick shut, I rid the bed of the sheets and mattress pad. I hum quietly to myself as I take them to the laundry room. In goes the bleach and detergent. They’ll be good as new before we know it.

In the bedroom again, I tuck fresh sheets onto the mattress, then go into my closet for supplies. Out comes a heating pad and a fuzzy blanket. I don’t know how bad Presley’s periods are; she hasn’t had one around me before. But I know they’re different for every woman, and I want to be prepared. I walk to the bathroom door, listen for a second, and decide she’s fine.

In the kitchen, I make her a light breakfast of a bagel with cream cheese and a bowl of fresh fruit. I carry it upstairs and then softly knock on the bathroom door. “Baby?”

“Yeah?” Her voice is tight and tearful and my stomach drops. I hate that she’s embarrassed about this.

“Can I come in?” I ask, practically bouncing on my toes with urgency to see her, to make sure she’s okay.

“It’s unlocked,” she says quietly. I let myself in and freeze in my tracks when I spot her. She’s curled up on the bath mat, practically in the fetal position, and she’s wrapped in a towel, skin damp.

“Pres,” I say, setting her food on the counter and squatting down beside her, putting a hand to her back. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

“It hurts,” she whimpers, and fuck if my heart doesn’t squeeze sadly in my chest.

“What hurts, babe?” I coo, stroking her hair. She’s pale and sweaty, breathing slowly.

“I haven’t had my period in months,” she grits out. “They’re irregular as fuck, but when they do come, they’re - ugh, fuck - they’re awful.” She curls in on herself even further and I frown.

“I brought you a bagel and some fruit,” I tell her, and she looks up at the counter. I’m hopeful for a second but then she turns green, crawls over to the toilet, and pukes.

Fuck. Food was not the right thing to do.

Anxiety spikes in my chest even though I’m sure she��s fine. I hurry over and pull her hair back, rubbing her back with my free hand. “It’s okay,” I assure her.

She flushes the toilet and slumps over the bowl when she’s done. Then, she starts to cry.

I’ve never felt so helpless in my life.

I let out a helpless little sound, unsure of what to do. Do I give her space? Do I hold her? The sounds of her cries suddenly answer my question for me and I sit against the wall, hauling her trembling body into my arms. She clings to me, curling her fingers around the material of my shirt, and finally, I’ve done the right thing. Whew.

I stroke her hair and press a kiss to her clammy forehead. “What do you need, my love?”

“Medicine,” she croaks. “Heating pad. Sleep.”

“That can all be arranged,” I say softly against her hairline. “Will you be able to keep medicine down?”

She nods. “I puked from the pain. Once the meds kick in, I won’t be nauseous anymore,” she explains. Jesus. Throwing up from being in pain. It’s only happened to me once when I was kicked in the balls harder than fuck. It wasn’t pleasant. I can’t imagine it happening multiple times a year. Does this happen to some women every month? Jesus Christ. Women are heroes.

I kiss her head again and then scoop her up. I pause. “Do you have what you need? A tampon?”

She nods. “I had a box in the cabinet.”

“Okay, good,” I say. I take her to bed and settle her down onto the warm heating pad. She groans softly and curls up. I go to the dresser, find a pair of comfy underwear and a clean shirt of mine, then rush back to the bed to help her dress. Then, I hurry into the bathroom for ibuprofen. She downs 800 milligrams and settles in. I help to settle the heating pad on her belly and slowly, her color returns to normal.

“That’s better,” she sighs, eyes starting to droop. I pull the blankets up to cover her and then stroke her hair back. God, this is all so domestic and I love every second of it. I love taking care of her.

“I’m going to give you some space and–” I start, but she interrupts me.

“Wait,” she says, eyes opening fully. Her hand curls around my wrist. “Don’t go.” She looks sheepish. “Please?”

If only she knew how badly I wanted her to beg me to stay. I smile softly and nod, then go around to the other side of the bed and crawl in beside her. She rolls onto her side and I pull her in, curling around her from behind. I cover the heating pad on her stomach with my hand and she sighs at the gentle, warm pressure. I smile and nuzzle in, closing my eyes.

“Col?” she asks quietly.

“Hm?”

“I love you.” She covers my hand with her own. “Thank you for taking care of me. Sorry about all of this.”

“Pres, I will always take care of you,” I assure her. “I like doing it. Okay? Now, get some sleep.” She nods and settles in, and soon enough, she’s asleep.

I didn’t think I would be able to fall back asleep, but somehow, I’m waking up to an empty bed and a growling stomach. I frown, reaching out for Presley, finding an empty space where she once lay. “Pres?” I call out. I clear the sleep from my throat.

“In here,” she calls from the bathroom. I’m about to jump up when she appears in the doorway. Her hair is wet, her color looks normal, and she looks like my happy, healthy girlfriend. I relax instantly.

“You okay, baby?” I ask.

Presley nods and walks over to me, crawling into bed beside me. “Much better,” she says as I take her into my arms. “Just disappointed we can’t have sex.”

I’m quiet for a long few moments and she arches a brow, looking up at me. “Who says we can’t?” I ask softly.

Presley blinks those gorgeous jade eyes. “Says…my bleeding vagina?”

I snort a laugh and shake my head. “I don’t think you realize how little I care about that.”

“Really?” Presley asks. “That doesn’t gross you out?”

I swallow hard. “No,” I admit. “I actually…I kinda like it.”

Presley looks at me for a second, then shakes her head and chuckles softly. “You’re a freak. I love you.” She presses a kiss to my lips and I can’t help but smile, pulling her leg across my hips.

“We’ll just put a towel down,” I say with a casual shrug. My cock is already trying to tent my boxer briefs, pressing against her thigh.

“Okay,” she says, looking self-conscious.

“Do you want to?” I ask. “Do you feel comfortable?”

“I’m a little nervous,” she admits, “but I want to. Are you sure it doesn’t bother you?”

I curl a hand gently around her throat, applying no pressure but just holding her. “Presley,” I say seriously. “If you’d let me, I’d eat the fuck out of your pussy right now.” Her breath hitches and her pupils widen just slightly. “Does that clear it up?” I ask.

Presley gulps and nods. “Crystal clear,” she practically wheezes.

I grip her neck just a little bit tighter and bring her mouth to mine. I’m aching for her, hungry for her, and I kiss her hard, tasting the mint of her toothpaste on her breath. I pull her on top of me and before I can get any leverage, she presses her clothed pussy to my dick and grinds down. My breath stutters and I steady my hands on her hips, surprised by the sudden friction. Presley looks down at me, eyes dark, and holy shit, she’s so horny. I can tell.

“Pres,” I say huskily. “Fuck, baby.”

“I want you,” she practically whines, and suddenly, all of my control is gone. I flip us over so she’s on her back and then I’m between her legs, thighs on both of my shoulders. “Cols–” she tries, but my mouth is already on her, kissing.

“I won’t go under your panties, I promise,” I rasp. “Please, just. Just let me?” I rest my cheek against her thigh, looking up at her pleadingly. She whimpers and nods quickly, pushing her hand into my hair. My tongue finds her clothed clit and roughs against it, causing Presley to let out a shaky breath. I can’t get enough of her. I kiss and lick and suck and do everything I possibly can through her panties to work her up, and it’s working. She’s writhing above me and begging, keening.

Finally, I pull back, and shit, I’m way too close. Presley swallows hard and rolls off the bed onto shaky legs. “Let me…I just…let me take this out,” she stammers, and I smirk, knowing I’m the one who has her speech acting up. She stumbles into the bathroom, and moments later, she returns.

Completely naked.

It never fails: the breath is knocked out of my goddamn lungs every single time I see my girl naked. I can’t help it. She’s perfect. I whine low in my throat at the sight of her, tits slightly bigger than usual, nipple rings glinting in the midday sunshine. I admire the roadmap of her curves, the way her hips slope into her thighs.

“Get over here, baby,” I rasp, sitting on the edge of the bed. She crawls into my lap and kisses me hard, grinding her pussy against my shaft and I shiver, tensing in pleasure. I reach down and it’s easy to slip right inside of her. Neither of us breathes as she sinks down, the backs of her thighs settling onto the tops of mine. “Fuck, Presley,” I breathe, my head falling back for a moment.

Pres takes advantage, her lips finding my neck, and god dammit, I’m not the one who’s supposed to get weak from getting his neck kissed, but shit, it feels good. I see why girls lose it when their necks are kissed. I groan and close my eyes, letting her kiss me to her heart’s content. My hands settle onto her plush ass and I hold her close, our hearts pounding against one another’s while she adjusts to my size.

Finally, she grinds forward, the wet warmth of her dragging up my shaft. I can’t help but groan, squeezing her ass harder as she moves. I press up onto my toes, thighs lifting upward to angle her differently and she lets out a choked moan as her arms drape around my neck. I place a hand to the back of her neck and pull her in for a hard kiss, teasing my tongue into her mouth.

Every single time she moves, pleasure sparks through me, and I need to get control of this fast before I lose it way too fucking soon. With a growl, I get her onto her back and then cover her frame with my own. My palms find her ass and I press inside her. With my hands gripping her ass, I can pull her hips even closer to mine and grind right against her clit with every thrust. Presley loses it, breath trembling between whimpers and gasps, nails digging into my back. “Colson–” she gasps. “Fuck, baby, so good,” I moan into her neck, devouring the taste of her skin. Something about her feels different when she’s on her period. Maybe it’s all in my head, but she’s even tighter, her body more reactive to my touch. With every thrust, she clenches around me harder than usual, and it’s driving me fucking wild, making me lightheaded.

I let go of her ass to plant my hands on the bed, pushing myself up slightly, and then I drive into her hard and fast. Our skin slaps together and Presley’s cries hike up in pitch and volume until she’s practically screaming. “That’s it, baby,” I grunt, watching her face, watching her tits bounce. I know they’re sensitive and I growl as I grip one, squeezing it gently.

“Oh f-fuck!” she cries, back arching almost painfully. “I’m gonna come–”

“That’s it, good girl,” I grit out. “Come for me. Come all over my fucking cock, that’s it.”

My words send my girl over the edge. She screams out, clamping down so hard on my dick that it’s hard to move, but I don’t even care. Her ecstasy is worth it. I duck my head to suck on her nipple while she comes and her hips jerk against me as her orgasm intensifies. “Colson, fuckfuckfuck!” she says, voice high, and I moan around my mouthful of her breast.

Finally, her rigid body releases, going slack beneath me, and I slow my thrusts. I look down at her, admiring her flushed cheeks and blown pupils and she lets out a breathless laugh. I chuckle too. “You okay?”

“Never better,” she breathes. She lifts her hips, pushing me off her. “Your turn.” I go up on my knees and practically drool when she turns around and arches her back. She looks over her shoulder at me as I move close to her, curling my hands around her hips. I watch every inch of my dick disappear inside her with a shuddering moan. I start to thrust but Presley bears down, stopping me. I arch a brow but then I get it.

My girlfriend starts throwing her ass back like it’s her fucking job.

I’m not even moving as her pussy slides up and down my dick, coating it with her arousal. Her ass smacks against my triple X tattoo with every movement and I’m dizzy with pleasure, unable to do anything but just take it. “Presley,” I wheeze, eyes glued to her ass as she takes me so good. My fingers tighten around her hips as my balls tighten and my stomach knots up. I’m shaking by now, so desperate to let go inside of her.

Presley moans and whimpers and it’s only turning me on more. “Fuck, Colson,” she gasps. “Come inside me, baby.”

“Fuck, yeah,” I grunt, watching as she slams her ass against me. I’m so close, so fucking close. Any second now, I’m going to completely lose it. When she slides me almost all the way out of her, I see it: her blood on me, and that’s what makes me fucking lose it.

As she backs up again, taking me all the way inside, I shout out and squeeze her hips hard, keeping her against me as I explode. I come so hard that I can feel the way it hits her walls and I go dizzy and slack-jawed with pleasure. It’s such a good orgasm and it lasts longer than most. Finally, I slump over her and curse, letting my forehead fall onto her back. We pant together, sweating and sated until finally, I pull out of her. She hobbles to the bathroom and that’s when I realize we didn’t put a towel down.

There’s no mess, except for on my dick, and I glance at the bathroom door to make sure Presley isn’t standing right there. I look down and bite back a groan at the sight of it. I think I’d hate this with any other girl, but I love Presley, and fuck, I have a thing for blood. Jesus, I already want to come again. I curl my hand around the base of my dick and whimper. “Pres,” I call.

She flushes the toilet, washes her hands, and appears in the doorway. “Yeah?” she asks. Her eyes glaze over when she sees what I’m doing, and she hurries over, crawling onto the bed and sitting on her knees. Her eyes are wide and beautiful as she looks up at me, and when she arches her back and grips her tits, pressing them up, my hips jerk.

“Oh sh-shit,” I stammer, and my hips jerk, splattering a little more cum onto her tits. Completely spent and overstimulated, I collapse onto my back. Presley cleans up in the bathroom again and returns with a warm, wet washcloth. I clean myself off, toss the washcloth at the laundry basket, and go boneless on the bed. Presley giggles and snuggles up beside me.

“Love you, Cols,” she says, pressing a kiss to my chest.

“I love you, too, fuck,” I groan. “You’re so perfect.” I cup her cheek and kiss her slowly.

I decide to say fuck the studio. We stay in bed the rest of the day. We order food, watch movies, and fuck again, though this time, it’s slower. More emotional. Never thought I’d like it like that, but with Pres, I’d like anything. My future wife. She’s so goddamn perfect for me.

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clinicallyinvisible · 1 year

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No matter what I do, I can't win. My partner goes looking for something to fight with me about. And I know it's just because he's frustrated and angry and doesn't know how else to deal with his feelings so he takes it out on me. He's going to counseling and I've tried to give him solutions to things, but he makes absolutely no effort to work on himself. Instead of listening to me when I say something is wrong or something he did hurt me he plays victim and does the whole "everything I say/do is wrong boo hoo poor me" and I don't engage with that shit anymore.

When covid started and I quit my job I was on EI for a while and then went back to school. Yeah, I slacked on the housework and struggled to get things done. I was depressed. Instead of trying to help me he just shamed me and scolded me and fought with me over it. Now he's been having a depressive period and is doing a lot of sitting around and playing video games and god forbid I try to help him by giving him something to do and getting him off his ass. I asked him to clean with me this morning and he complained the entire time and picked a fight with me. It was such a travesty that I was telling him he wasn't doing enough because there was a time that I was not doing enough and by that logic I should let him do the same thing I did. Difference being that back then and still today I have always done more than him around the house. Always. And I work more than he does now.

Like sure, I get why he's upset, but isn't it hypocritical of him to reverse the roles at this point? Like I got better and am actually doing a damn good job compared to before and instead of seeing that and appreciating that he thinks now it's his turn to do nothing and because he makes more money than me he seems to think that's fair. Like no. If you're gonna be on your ass at home while I'm at work you can pick up some slack at home. I still do most of the cleaning, all the cooking, and am primary caretaker of our 5 pets. But god forbid I ask him to spend just an hour or two cleaning with me on a Saturday morning.

Time and time again he has disregarded boundaries I've set and I've reminded him of the boundary when he crosses it and then he crosses it again and again. I give him so many chances and he constantly disrespects me.

I'm done. I've decided I'm done. I love him deeply and he's my best friend, but I can't be in a relationship with him anymore. I'm going to ask him to move out. Which is only fair because he owns 2 houses, neither of which are the one we live in. We rent this place. He refused to buy us a house, just kept putting tenants into the houses he bought. Which is fine because otherwise I'd have nowhere else to go so it worked out for me. He can kick one of his tenants out and I'll stay here. I'm happy to still be his friend, but I don't want to be his "girlfriend" anymore.

I just need to be alone. I just need to get some space. I feel suffocated at this point. He's so mean to me and yet I think he can tell I'm pulling away because of it so then he gets physically clingy and affectionate, which just doesn't interest me right now.

And I'm sad. I'm sad that we couldn't make it work, but I have tried so hard for 5 years and he has not put nearly as much effort in as I have and he just refuses to give me very much. It feels unfair and I feel alone anyway. Alone, but suffocated. It hurts that he doesn't love me the way I need to be loved and it hurts that I have given so much and gotten so little back. It hurts to not be listened to and to be so disrespected by the one person that is supposed to support and love me.

I am finally in a place in my life where I have a good job and good friends and finally have direction. But instead of coming with me down the path he just clings to my leg and holds me back. He won't grow up and he won't move forward. I have to leave him behind. And it sucks that I have to do that, but it's what will be best for me.

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frozenprincessshay · 2 years

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Kirishima Period Comfort

Summary: Your uterus is attacking you and your loving boyfriend, Kirishima, just wants to help.

Tags: Fluff, Period Comfort, Cuddles.

Training finally ended. You clutch your stomach as the cramps in your stomach attempt to kill you. Bakugou had not for a second taken it easy on you. You usually appreciate the equality Bakugou was born and raised with, but today you really wished he was an anti-feminist. You stumble into the dorms, passing a forming group of random 1A students in the common room. “Hey, Pebble.”, you heard your cheerful boyfriend call from the sofa. You swallow, you loved Kirishima but today, you really just wanted to be on your own. “Come sit with us.” He continued. You muscle up a smile, “No, thanks. I’m just kinda tired from training, so I’m gonna go to my room.” “O-okay.” Kirishima replied, looking a little worried. You didn’t like that; you didn’t want him to worry about you. You stand as straight as you could and smile widely. As Bakugou walks by, you elbow him, “I’m gonna beat your ass next time though.” Bakugou balled his fists and waved them at you, “You wanna fucking go, Extra.” “Oh, I’ll definitely beat you up. Tomorrow.” You wink at Kirishima, noticing his worried expression dissipate into a friendly smile to his best friend and girlfriend. Satisfied, you walk to the elevator, ready to curl up in a ball of blankets and discomfort.

As soon as you leave, Ejiro’s smile drops and he looks longingly after you. Mina, who was next to him noticed, “Hey, what’s up with you?” Ejiro looks at her, forcing an unconvincing smile, “It’s nothing.” To which Mina replies with a deadpan expression and an unheard, “Really?” Ejiro sighed, defeated, “It’s just that- she’s been different since yesterday. Kinda distant. Do you think I did something wrong?” “What? No. She adores you.” Mina says with the surety that Ejiro just didn’t have right now. He asked in a small voice, “Then why is she acting like that?” Jiro, who had been eavesdropping on the conversation asked, “What’s today’s date?” Ochaco replied with the date. “Oh,” she smiles knowingly, “The red demon as arrived.” Asui inquired, “How do you know, kirro?” “Cause she gets hers before I get mine.” Mina laughed, “Aw, poor her.” Ejiro looked between the girl confused, “Sorry, what?” Everyone looked a little surprised. “You don’t know?” Yao-momo asked. Ejiro shook his head in puzzlement. Mina replied with a horrified expression, “She’s your girlfriend, Kiri. You have to know these things.” Ejiro was slowly losing his patience, “Know what, Mina?” Jiro not a fan of this drawn-out useless conversation, “She’s on her period, Kirishima.” “Oh,” Ejiro vaguely remembered the mention of periods in sex ed. He knew that meant a woman would be bleeding for a certain amount of time, but that still didn’t understand why you were avoiding him. “But why is she being distant with me? I don’t care that she’d on her period.” Mina sighed, “Kiri. The poor thing’s probably in pain.” “In pain?!” Ejiro asked, fully alert now, “Why is she in pain?” “The cramps, Kirishima, pure torture.” Jiro replied. Ochaco piped in, “Yeah, and if I know your girlfriend, she hates taking pain medication.” Yao-momo confirmed, “Yes, that’s true. I did offer her once but she declined.” Ejiro knew that well enough. Whenever you got injured, you’d never admit to being any degree of serious. You’d always attempt to deal with it without seeing Recovery Girl. You and Ejiro hadn’t been dating very long, probably a little over a month, but he wished you had told him that you were suffering. Ejiro pouted, feeling helpless in this situation where he really wanted to help, “Then what should I do?” The girls pitied the well-meaning boyfriend. Mina said, “Okay, Kiri, this is what you have to do.”

You’d been trying to sleep for what felt like hours. But the cramps in your stomach refused to let you find any semblance of peace. You’d alternated between kicking the blanket of you, to pulling it to you neck, only to kick it back down again. You’d tossed and turned in an attempt to find a comfortable position but every one seemed to back your pain worse. You were on the verge of tears. You one hand on your lower stomach to try and bring some warmth to sooth your cramps, but it was next to useless. In the midst of changing position again, you hear a knock on the door. You ignore it in the hope that whoever it was would think you’re sleeping. However, the handle rattled and inside walked your boyfriend, Kirishima. You groaned internally, but externally you said as nicely as you could in your state, “Eji, I really can’t talk right now can you please-” “The girls told me you’re on your period.” Ejiro cut in. You groan externally now, “Is it that obvious?” “Apparently, Jiro’s period is right after yours…?” You exhale, “Right.” His expression saddened, “You could have told me you were in pain.” You look away from him, “It’s not really a big deal. I can handle it.” “I’m your boyfriend, I’m supposed to know this stuff.” He parrots Mina’s words. Your eyes flick to his and you feel guilty. The worry he’d been feeling was obvious in his scrunched eyebrows and worry etched into his facial features. “I’m sorry.” You say. He smiled. Kirishima Ejiro everyone, always so quick to forgive. “Well, I got you some stuff.” Ejiro held up a plastic packet enthusiastically before placing it on the bed to reveal its contents. “The girl’s told me you don’t like taking medication for it so I didn’t get that,” he sounded dubious about not getting the medication but nevertheless continued, “I got you the chocolate cake that you love. And burgers from McDonalds along with that iced coffee you like and-” You chuckle, so much thought must have gone into what he was buying and not everyone would go out of their way to buy their girlfriend’s favorites, “How did I get so lucky with the best boyfriend ever?” Ejiro’s face almost blended in with his hair, “I wouldn’t go that far.” “I would,” you say, then looking at all the stuff he bought, “Eji, I’m sorry but I can’t possible eat all this right now. I really just want to sleep, please.” Ejiro nods, understandingly, putting the packet down. “That’s okay. We can eat it when you wake up.” He notices your hand on your stomach and frowns, “Does it hurt a lot?” You shake your head, and lie, “Nah, I’m good.” “Then why do you have your hand on your stomach?” You huff a laugh, “You got me there. I don’t have a heating pad, so I’m trying to sooth the cramps with the warmth of my hand.” “Is it working?” “Um…” “What if I put my hand?” before you say anything Ejiro places his hand just a little down of yours so half of his hand lay on yours and the other on your stomach. You were about to protest but his hand was just so much warmer than yours. You pull your hand away from his. The warmth of his palm slowly calmed the worst of your cramps. Your eyes close from the little bit of peace and you place your hand over his pushing down gently. “Ejiro, would it be okay if we stayed like this? Just so I can sleep. You can leave after that; it just feels so nice.” Ejiro didn’t even hesitate. He says, with a toothy grin, “Of course, anything to help my Baby Shark.” You scoot a little to the edge of the bed to make room for Ejiro to shift onto it. You relax for the first time that day when Ejiro and you were comfortable situated next to each other. With your eyes already closing you say, “Thank you, Ejiro.” He kisses the side of your head, being careful not to move his hand at all, “Goodnight, Pebble.” You fall into blissful sleep, so grateful for a caring boyfriend like Ejiro.

When morning came, you shift in your bed and were a little surprised to bump into something heavy. You looked up to find Ejiro still here. You wondered distantly if he had stayed deliberately or had just fallen asleep here. Either way, you were happy to wake up surrounded by his warmth and comfort.

#kirishima x y/n #kirishima ejiro #fluff #period cramps #period comfort #mha #mha fluff

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mypoisonedvine · 3 years

Text

𝗹𝗶𝗯𝗲𝗿𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 || (very dark) 70s!Bucky x reader

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: he tried to be sympathetic to your cause, he really did, but he couldn’t just let you get away with disrespecting him like that.

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 2.4k

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: smut (noncon, plus breeding kink and tons of degradation, like very heavy degradation, and multiple orgasms/overstimulation), misogyny, a bit of dumbification, housewife kink, ‘sir’ kink (brief), choking, implied anal, spitting (not on the reader, unfortunately lmao), quite a bit more than period-typical sexism, awful awful awful this fic is absolutely awful

Brooklyn, 1970.

Bucky’s mornings were sacred. He had his rituals: showering, cooking breakfast, reading the paper and having his first drink and cigarette of the day, all before he left for work.

But throughout this entire week, his mornings had been ruined by the stupid fucking protest in the park just outside his window. And to think he’d actually paid more for an apartment with a view of the park— he hadn’t realized then that the “view” was gonna be a bunch of hippies creating awful music and an unbearable smell that left his whole apartment reeking of reefer if he dared to open his window.

Attempting to ignore it for a week only made him more resentful with each passing day. Each time he figured the crowd would surely leave soon or at least be quiet for the night, they seemed to somehow get louder just to spite him.

He probably should've waited until he was a bit less agitated to go down and try to bargain with you, but he stormed down there instead and tapped you on the shoulder when his presence alone wasn't enough to distract you from your incessant chanting.

“Would you consider being quiet?" he asked firmly. "I have to work in the morning and—”

“We won’t be quiet until women have equal treatment under the eyes of society and the law,” you interrupted to explain condescendingly, shocking him with your icy tone. He could hardly believe your attitude, in fact he couldn’t remember any woman speaking to him that way in his life: so far, he wasn’t enjoying it.

“I just thought you could be a little more respectful,” Bucky shot back, even more stern. “You’re not making anyone wanna support your movement by acting entitled and inconveniencing everyone.”

“I’m sorry the revolution is inconvenient for you,” you replied, but it didn’t sound much like an apology.

He wanted to say more but you blew him off and disappeared into the crowd, leaving him confused and irritated and livid. Up until now he had been quietly skeptical about all this talk of liberation but now he saw it for the poison it really was. A girl like you— who could've been a real looker with some willingness to try and a better attitude— talking to a man like him with so much hate and over what, a polite request?

This could not be tolerated; he couldn't let you get away with acting like that. And lucky for you, he was exactly the guy you needed to teach you your lesson.

The good thing about hippies high on shrooms is they aren’t the most observant. When he returned to the demonstration area the next night, he was able to grab you roughly and pull you back from the crowd with almost no trouble at all, dragging you into an empty alley and clamping his hand down over your mouth as your eyes went wide and your throat vibrated with silent screams.

“Shh, shh,” he soothed against your ear, “whatcha fightin’ for?”

He liked the way it felt to have you squirming against his grasp, using all your strength and not even getting close to escaping.

“How does it feel to know I can do anything I want to you?” he growled against your ear. “C’mon, sweetheart, can’t you put up a better fight than that? I thought you believed in equality… you should be able to get away if you’re as strong as I am.”

He felt your warm tears trailing down around his fingers which held your face tightly, the struggle of your limbs slowing and weakening slightly. His cock was already getting hard as he imagined the moment you would finally give in.

“You remember me, don’t you? You didn’t need to be so rude, darlin’. You could’ve just been nice and none of this would be happening.”

Your elbow shot back into his ribs and he exhaled sharply but didn't let go, grabbing your wrists and holding your arms to your chest as he pinned you to the wall.

"Oh, that's not gonna work, babydoll. I'm so much stronger and bigger than you, all you're gonna do is make me angrier. Is that what you want, sweetheart? To make me angry?" he asked mockingly, leaning in to lick the shell of your ear as you tried to turn away. “Pretty girl like you would make a great wife, why would you want anything else?”

Ignoring your struggle, he reached into your shirt and purred as he groped your chest, your nipples hardening when he pinched them. “Maybe I can get behind this bra-burning thing if it means having easier access to your tits all the time,” he grinned. “How am I supposed to keep my hands to myself when I can see them through your shirt? Shouldn’t be showing ‘em off if you don’t want any attention.”

As fun as it was to play with your tits, he had bigger plans, so he reached lower to start tugging down your jeans, your legs uselessly kicking as he exposed your ass and thighs.

His cock was already rock hard as he hastily opened his fly and pulled it out with one hand, leaning back to spit on it quickly. He spread the fluid with a few strokes over his length, figuring it would be enough to get inside you even if he didn’t really care if he hurt you.

Your eyes went wide and your head bucked wildly as he poked the head of it against your opening, your body fighting a little harder once again. The irony of that, though, was that you were already plenty wet in spite of what he had expected; it was so much funnier to watch you struggle now that he knew you were not-so-secretly enjoying it.

“Don’t be so dramatic," he chuckled darkly, "I bet you can take a cock real easy since you believe in all this ‘free love’ bullshit.”

He groaned as he pushed into you, impressed by how tight you were— so tight that it made his cock throb right away, your walls pulsing and rippling around him as he filled you to the brim.

“Oh fuck, there you go…” he hissed, smiling as you sobbed harder and struggled a bit more before finally relaxing into his tight embrace. "You're gonna take it all, baby, every fuckin' inch of me."

A hard sob choked out of you every time he slammed himself to the end of you; he could feel the hatred radiating from you, the way you would kill him in a moment if only you weren't so weak. But he could feel your reluctant acceptance, too, and the way it was slowly turning into euphoria— you were finally starting to like how it felt to be helpless to him, it was obvious with the way your pussy gave him such a warm and willing welcome while your pretty tits got even harder.

You clearly wanted to hate him, but your body knew better.

"You think I'm a sexist pig, I'm sure," he chuckled, "but I'm really not— I love women! And you know what I love most? Huh?"

He felt you nervously shake your head behind his hand and he laughed.

"I love the way you get so dumb when you get a cock in you. All those useless little thoughts leaving your head when you're finally getting fucked right."

Your cries got louder even though they were still muffled by his hand, your sweet little pussy giving him a squeeze of encouragement.

"It's okay to like it, babydoll, it's what you were meant for. Made to be my brainless fucktoy… born to serve me," he growled. “You really should learn to appreciate," he grunted between brutal thrusts, "that your only purpose is to keep my dinner hot and my cock warm.”

Your eyes rolled back in your head and he felt your walls bear down on him tightly, wetness seeping down around him.

"Oh fuck, are you coming? Shit," he moaned. "Looks like you really needed to be put in your place, just needed to be used... god, you made a fuckin' mess, too, you soaked my cock…"

Your little hands tightened into fists, pushing against where his arm held them back, but he stayed steady as he pumped into you, letting himself get a bit lost in the feeling of you while he buried his face in the crook of your neck.

It felt so damn good to have a cunt coming around him, but it was even better knowing that you were fighting it and still couldn’t stop it, completely helpless to how good he was making you feel.

You almost screamed under his hand when he reached down to quickly rub your clit, your back arching to try to run away from his touch; poor thing, you were so sensitive it probably hurt you, but he was having too much fun watching you realize you were going to come again.

"Yeah, gimme another one, slut," he grinned, your legs quivering as waves of slick coated him and started to even drip down your legs. "Can't stop coming like the dirty whore you are, huh? Bet nobody's made you come like this before— cause nobody's given it to you right. Nobody's shown ya what it's supposed to be like when a man takes you and makes you his."

From the way you moaned softly, teary eyes fluttering shut, he knew you liked the sound of that.

"Yeah, wanna be mine, baby? Wanna be my little slut? Or do you want me to pump this pussy full and leave you here on the ground for any other man that comes by to use you if he needs?"

You groaned softly, a weak little noise, and he felt his cock flex; as much as he wanted this to last as long as possible, he couldn’t hold back anymore.

“M’close, honey,” he breathed. “I’m gonna come.”

He laughed breathlessly when you shut your eyes, like you were trying to go somewhere else in your mind, trying to pretend this wasn’t real. But it was real, and he wasn’t going to let you forget that. He was elated to make your nightmares come true.

"I sure wouldn't mind pulling out and covering that pretty face you've got,” he hissed. “It'd be funny to see you go back to your little march and show them how owned you are. But not today, babydoll, I think there's only one way you're gonna learn your lesson."

Another muffled gurgle from you, and this time it didn’t even sound like protest. Maybe you were just too tired for that at this point, but it gave him hope that you could finally behave.

"I'm gonna take my hand away from your mouth and you're gonna beg me to come inside you, is that clear?" he grunted, feeling you nod vigorously. "You're not gonna scream are you?"

You shook your head, and he slowly pulled his hand from your mouth as you gasped for air. "Please— come in me," you panted.

"Address me as 'sir'," he instructed.

"Please, sir, I— I want you to come," you whined.

He chuckled right against your ear, feeling you shiver in his grasp. "Honey, I don't give a fuck what you want."

To think you ever resisted your natural desire for submission was absurd now, considering the way that statement made you openly moan, your walls fluttering around him.

“Gonna fill you so fuckin’ deep you’ll never get it outta you, sweetheart.”

One more orgasm washed over you, making him laugh darkly while he watched you bite your lip to attempt to stay quiet; but that was impossible once he fucked you harder just to spite you, having to hold you tight to make sure he got as deep in you as possible. Your whole body shook as he slammed into you, and he laughed at how dumb and helpless you looked.

"Bet you're on those new birth control pills," he grimaced. They really weren’t that new, but he still hadn’t gotten used to them. "Makes me sick to think you're letting a perfectly good womb go to waste. Betcha want me to breed you nice and deep, yeah? Wanna get knocked up? You don't even care that I'm a stranger, you wanna get your pussy filled by any random man's come so you can have any random man's baby, ain't that right?"

At first he had worried that you would scream or cry for help, but now his concern was more that your moans would be too loud and somebody would catch the two of you in this alley. Even if it was obvious now that you wanted it, public indecency was still a crime.

Good thing he had a new way to shut you up: his hand tight around your throat, silencing your sobs to blessed silence. It was so hot to have you entirely at his mercy like that, to feel your pulse beneath his fingers, that he couldn’t stop himself from speeding up his thrusts suddenly.

"Fuck, I’m gonna come,” he gasped, “fuck, y-you… little whore…”

He had a habit of running his mouth when he was right on the edge, and the way your pussy was milking him for all he was worth made him spit out whatever filth he could think of.

“Stupid fuckin' bitch," he mumbled under his breath as he fucked you as fast and rough as he could, chasing his high with no regard for your pleasure or your pain. "Dumb whore, fuck, you stupid— ah, shit— stupid fucking cunt!"

He cried out as he filled you, groaning loudly with every pump of his seed into your waiting body. Only when he was sure every drop was inside you did he release his grip on your neck, a loud gasp coming first before a few coughs and chokes that only made his cock harder despite having just filled you.

You started to struggle again, and he couldn’t believe it— after everything, did you still not know your place?

There wasn’t much time to relax and enjoy the afterglow when you were already trying to get away, and so he had to hold you tight again while he smiled exhaustedly.

“N-no,” you stammered, and he covered your mouth again as he pulled your head back to rest on his shoulder. Clearly he hadn’t done enough yet to fuck that word out of you.

“Where ya goin’, sweetheart?” he panted against your ear, still catching his breath, his chest covered in a thin layer of sweat where it was exposed by his shirt. “You’ve still got another hole to fill.”

#dark!bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes dark fic #bucky barnes noncon #dark!bucky barnes smut

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weirdlandtv · 3 years

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Outasight! The inimitable Mary Jane Watson, from the Spider-Man comics. The evolution of her character is quite interesting. She started out as a typical Sixties party vamp, human confetti, spouting that crazy Stan Lee hip youngster lingo that today reads like a guided tour of catchphrase hell, all swinging go-go poses and cheeky dimples, but gradually she developed into a more layered character, after the death of Gwen Stacy. (The comic book genre as a whole basically evolved with the characters—grew up.) Eventually we learned that MJ’s life of headlong hedonism was really—wouldn’t you know it—a kind of exuberant escape from an abusive childhood. Everyone in the Marvel universe is traumatized one way or the other.

From that famous introduction panel on (“Face it, tiger… You just hit the jackpot!”) Mary Jane really leaped off the page, didn’t she. Her red hair matches Spider-Man’s costume the same way Doc Samson’s hair matches Hulk’s skin (what an insight), and I was surprised to learn that she wasn’t actually intended to be Peter Parker’s main love interest—surprised that Stan Lee and John Romita didn’t immediately SEE it (they kept pushing Gwen—poor MJ losing their brief dance duel). At one point Mary Jane was even pretty much written out of Peter’s life, and thus the comics, until other writers dragged her back again. Then, famously, after years of circling around each other Mary Jane married Peter, and then, just as famously, the marriage years later was annulled again by the gods at Marvel. Marvel stories are often contrived to the point of absurdism anyway of course but that particular story seemed to go for some kind of world record. (In the newspaper strip the annulment turned out to be a bad dream, so Peter and Mary Jane remained married there. Mysterio can only dream of causing so much confusion.)

There’s a neat bit of characterization in AMAZING SPIDER-MAN #130 (image below, art by Ross Andru) where Mary Jane visits Peter’s apartment and casually checks out his record collection while she and Peter are talking about college. It’s such a smart bit: it’s exactly what a music lover like her would do. (She often heads for the record player, but to dance; here, it’s more subtle.) There she is, impossibly cool in her 1970s Afghan coat and platform shoes (miraculously her ankles survived the 70s), sparring a little with Peter, exchanging glib quips, while checking out an Aretha Franklin record (and leaving her fingerprints on it). She obviously longs for company. (Whenever she appears in the comic during that period she’s inviting people or being invited.) Peter however, more often than not, seems to regard her as a bit of a nuisance. He’s amused by her, but he doesn’t take her seriously. It could have gone on like that forever. Their romance only grows because Mary Jane does: she consoles Peter after Gwen’s death and at that point she stops being a caricature.

Apart from her personality, MJ’s look changed too over the years. John Romita Sr.’s original design is elegant, buoyant. Mary Jane is the sole happy creature among the super-powered heroes, the freaks, the kingpins, the lizards, the cackling leprechauns on flying skateboards, and ol’ Aunt May. (How old is Aunt May supposed to be by the way? 120? She looks like the Crypt Keeper and she always seems just one jumpscare away from death. “A squirrel! Oohhhh… my heart… Peter…”) Later artists would give MJ big aerobics hair, a bare midriff and long muscled legs, like she came out of a computer in WEIRD SCIENCE; in the hands of yet later artists she became a pouting child-woman or a big-eyed cartoony trooper constantly ready to kick ass. She has become younger I noticed, from a woman she has changed into a girl. (All the characters grew younger. When you look at the early comics, the gang (Peter, Gwen, Mary Jane, Flash, Harry, etc) all seem like old youngsters—they are your grandparents as young people.)

In the newspaper strips especially, MJ’s career was all over the place. She could be a big movie star running away from adoring fans one day and a model struggling to find work the next. Sometimes she took on regular jobs, like selling computers. At one time she worked for Kraven the Hunter, with predictable consequences. But she was always bopping along, active—alive.

The newspaper strips might actually be my favorite Spider-Man stories now that I think about it. People complain that they are so slow, reading them is like experiencing time being killed, but I like slow. I’m slow myself. (I’ve never been fast with anything in my life.) The newspaper strips were different than the comics, more Life with the Parkers than splashy superhero action; but the loose, casual storytelling has the effect of a leisurely sightseeing stroll in the Marvel universe, and I guess that just appeals to me. (The newspaper strip shows what the characters are doing when they’re not having epic adventures.)

Anyway. Whatever she was doing, Mary Jane was always trying to become famous. That was her main drive. So, it’s good to know really that there’s at least one universe where she hit the jackpot: ours.

Art by John Romita Sr. mostly, and Ross Andru. First image by Alex Saviuk (taken from one of the handbooks I think but the original was in PARALLEL LIVES). (I should probably also mention inker Mike Esposito.) That great cover art to the 1985 AMAZING SPIDER-MAN annual is by Mary Wilshire and John Romita.

#mary jane watson #mary jane #spider-man #spider man #spiderman #comics #comic art #stan lee #john romita #ross andru #alex saviuk #vintage #marvel #mj #comic panels

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needs-to-stop-looking-at-valves · 2 years

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Can we get a fluffy fic about pepa reacting to her daughter's first period? Like how she found out, and how dolores reacted herself.

Oh my god it's gonna be better than MINE- i had mine at peter piper pizza, and now I cannot go back to that place.

Pepa made sure her humming was extra quiet today. Dolores had complained yesterday that she wasn't feeling that well, and given that she hadn't woken up today, she could assume she still wasn't feeling well. It was why she was currently making her a tea, as well as one for Félix, who seemed more worried than she was, oddly enough.

"Félix, we all have days where we don't feel well."

"I know, I know. But Pepa, that's my baby girl! Of COURSE I'm worried!"

Pepa chuckled, putting the tea on the table, and kissing his forehead.

"Ya, relax. She's eleven, not five. Drink your tea, and breathe. Nothing is wrong."

"You're right. You're absolutely right. Gracias, Pepi. I-"

"MAMI!!"

Camilo ran into the kitchen, nearly slamming himself into the walls of the Casita.

"Oye, relax! Do you want to get hurt-"

"I checked in on Dolores! She won't get up and she's bleeding!"

Whatever calm Pepa had, was absolutely thrown out the fucking window. Her and Félix ran up the stairs as quickly as they could, and immediately ran into the room, to 'backstage', where Dolores's actual bed was. Pepa immediately shook her, scaring the poor thing awake.

"W-whats going on?!"

"Mija, are you okay? Camilo told us you weren't getting up and there was blood!"

Camilo pointed to the sheets, and sure enough, as Dolores pushed away the sheets, there was blood, smeared against all of her covers. Félix looked at Dolores, and sighed in relief.

"Oh por dios-I was TERRFIED."

Dolores groaned in disgust as she grabbed her dad's arm, kicking the sheet away.

"Ew...papi? Why is there blood on the sheets? Am I dying?"

Félix chuckled as he patted her little head.

"No baby. You know that thing that happens to mami sometimes? When she gets a bit more cranky than usual? Thats her on her period. And when you're on your period, you bleed."

Dolores didn't look surprised, but rather, extremely uncomfortable with this information.

"How long till it's over?"

Pepa started to gather her sheets as Félix helped her to her feet.

"For a week. Then it'll start again next month."

"Wait, so my prima isn't dying?"

"No mijo, she's just fine!"

Camilo pouted.

"Aw. I wanted her stuff."

Dolores stuck her tongue out at him, before Félix chuckled and seperated them by lightly smothering their faces with his hands.

"Ya, enough. Camilo, you be nice to your sister, ESPECIALLY right now."

Camilo pushed his hand away, looking upon it with disgust.

"Why? She's not dying."

"Because she doesn't feel well. Your sister is going to be bleeding for a while-"

Dolores winced as she held onto her tummy, clearly feeling a cramp.

"Ow ow ow...it hurts."

"Those are cramps, mija. Don't worry, you'll feel better after a nice shower. Then, you can have whatever you want for breakfast."

"W-she gets to eat whatever she wants for breakfast? Just for being a girl?!"

Camilo turned into Dolores, and faked what looked like a tummy ache. Félix looked displeased by this, and even Pepa had to admit that was inappropriate.

"Camilo. Be a good little hombre for me, stop making fun of your sister. Get me the laundry basket."

Camilo pouted as he obeyed, and Pepa chuckled as she stuffed the basket full. They all walked Dolores to the bathroom, and Pepa pushed Bruno away from entering the bathroom.

"Pepa what the hell-"

"Someone just started her period today, she's going to take a shower. As long as she needs."

Bruno leaned over to look at Dolores, giving her a thumbs up.

"Hey! The big period! Well good for you! Growing up, right before our eyes! Has Pepa told you about her period story?"

Pepa glared at him, the thunder serving as a warning for him to shut the fuck up.

"Bruno. Don't. You. Dare."

She knew that shit eating grin. No stopping him, even if she was going to beat his ass.

"It happened around your age! We were having a sleep over in my room, and we all slept in my bed. We woke up- we were all just covered in her blood! Like it was all over my sheets and our clothes-it looked like the horse scene in the Godfather. You dunno what that is yet, but trust me it's a lot."

"BRUNO."

"For like, two years I was convinced she was a werewolf, and was using the period as a cover up-okay okay I'm done I'm done!"

Bruno yelped as one of her lightning bolts almost hit him. Dolores covered her ears from the noise, but all three of these shit heads were chuckling along with Bruno. Pepa pushed him away, scolding him for being a dumbass, and only relaxing when Félix lightly patted her back.

"Hey, this is the first time Dolores smiled today. Be happy about that."

She sighed, the clouds poofing away as she nodded.

"Fair point. Dolores, mija, I'm going to help you with something while your papi gets you breakfast."

"What do you want for breakfast?"

Dolores thought about it for a second. She could only imagine how crazy her thoughts must be going in her little head.

"Mmm...I want arroz con leche."

"Then that's what you'll get, mi little buho. I'll take Camilo with me, you handle it from here?"

Pepa nodded, and after sharing a smooch with her husband, took Dolores to the bathroom. Pepa had her sit on the toilet, as she knelt down to her level.

"Now, mi amor. There's a few things I should tell you about how to handle your period, okay?"

"Uhm...okay?"

"Great. Now, first things first. You get your heavy bleeding from me, so you need to wear a cloth on your underwear."

"Like...a diaper?"

Pepa shrugged.

"Sort of. It's worth it though, else you'll get blood on everything, and you'll just genuinely be uncomfortable."

"Is there...something else?"

"Oh si-I use these sometimes, they're tampons!"

Pepa had some on hand, actually, for emergencies. She let Dolores hold one, but she looked...not so comfortable.

"Okay. And how do these catch the blood?"

"Oh you push this, and it goes inside of you. Then, once you need to change it, you pull the string and-"

"Papi!!!"

Dolores covered her ears as she screamed. And immediately, Félix poked his head into the bathroom, brow raised.

"What's wrong?"

"Can mami go instead? I don't wanna hear about stuff going places."

Pepa huffed, feeling a cloud form over her head. How dare she? Her own daughter, trying to get rid of her? She huffed, standing up, thrusting the tampons into Félix's hands, and taking the basket of laundry.

"Fine. YOU deal with it. Clearly I'm not wanted."

Pepa walked past them to the laundry room, where Julieta was, trying to get stains out of clothes, alongside Isabela.

"Pepa! What do you need me to...You're thundering."

"No, I thought I was raining glitter."

She replied, sarcasm laced in her voice. Julieta grabbed the clothes from her, and chuckled upon seeing the mess.

"Oh, Pepa! How cute! Is that why she was feeling unwell? I thought you'd be happy!"

"I was. Then she decided I wasn't good enough to explain tampons to her. Félix has ALWAYS been her favorite. Tonto."

Isabela looked up at the sheet, curious.

"What's going on with Dolores?"

"She had her period, it means she's becoming a woman."

"W-I'm older! I should becoming a woman! I want my period!"

Julieta chuckled, patting her head before getting to work.

"It'll happen when it happens, mija. I didn't have mine till I was thirteen, but I've heard a few getting it at fourteen."

"Is it bad?"

"In...some cases. Like Pepa's was-"

"If I have to hear about how bad my first period was, I'm going to hurricane."

"Ah, Bruno huh?"

Julieta chuckled, much to her frustration.

"You know what, I'm going to the market, let out some clouds. And Dolores says she wants arroz con leche for breakfast."

"Have fun. And be easy on your little girl, she's probably just really uncomfortable right now."

Pepa scoffed as she walked out of the laundry room, and into town. Maybe she was just a bit hard on her. Maybe she just wanted to be there for her, someone she wished she had when SHE was bleeding. Oh well.

At least she knew HER brother wouldn't call her a werewolf for two years.

#asks #not transformers #encanto #bruno is such a lil shit and so is camilo #and in case you're wondering #Félix is that guy that will get his little girl ANYTHING she wants during her period #even if he has to make it himself or get his mami to make it #she's getting it because thats his little angel #and yes Dolores was the first to get her period #then it was luisa #THEN isa #also lets say fuck the timeline of mira and her gift and shit #i had to include bruno

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dourpeep · 3 years

Note

OKAY time for a college au!!

You 3 know each other from before college

You and kazuha were seating next to each other during your first year of high school you became close enough to greet each other whenever you guys pass by each other

And you and Xiao were best friends from kindergarten to 2 grade but unfortunately you had to move suddenly you two tried to keep contact but the two of you made new friends and kinda lost contact with each other

So when you go to college you meet kazuha at the front desk when you're trying to get your schedule and yall are like "omg I'm so happy to see someone that I know here!" and when you guys check your schedules it turns out that the two of you have the same class during the first period

And you're like "we've got 30 minutes wanna go grab a cup of coffee and get lost together?" and kazu knows that you playfully flirt with your friends so he jokingly says "are you asking me out for a date? Because if you are then I accept!" and you guys talk on the way to class and the two of you barely make it on time

Class ends and you're sad to say goodbye to the only person you know on campus but then all of a sudden he hits you with a "by the way can I have your number?" so you two exchange numbers

Later you're going to your last class and it turns out that this class doesn't have many people you go sit in the back and someone comes up to you and is like "can I sit next to you? " you say yes obviously

But the thing is... there is something very familiar about this guy and you just can't put your finger on it so you kind of stare at him without realizing it

Of course he noticed how hard you've been staring at him and turns around and is like "what? Is there something on my face?" that's when it finally clicks

And you're just like "XIAO??! IS THAT REALLY YOU?!!" but the teacher comes in so you two can't really talk

But the moment class ends you tell him who you are and take a few minutes to catch up

Though I say catch up it was mostly you teasing him saying shit like "I can't believe the shy kid who used to tear up whenever his turn on the swing was taken would grow up to be this handsome!" (he's starting to think that maybe he should have sat somewhere else)

So you're like "hey how we go actually catch up I've got some coupons for this café I went to this morning with a friend"

He doesn't have a reason to say no so he just accepts the invitation

When you guys get there who do you meet? KAZUHA! This man actually works there!

When you see him you're like "kazuha why didn't you tell me that you work here?" but he pretends not to know you and is like "oh? Well who might this fine customer be?" you can tell he's joking by the way he's trying not to laugh so you decide to play along

Poor Xiao is starting to regret coming with you (but don't worry he got 2 plates of almond tofu as an apology)

-no primogems (I'll make another part later where you 3 become roommates)

YES I ABSOLUTELY LOVE THIS-

dhfaeiahe I realize now that I should've just posted this as is since I wasn't planning on adding to this but might as well add in some thoughts I've had about this lovely trio eh??? tbh I didn't add much I just slipped in a few little things hehe

Can you guess the roomates?? Also the bio professor is Albedo ehe

Anyway!!

Considering it's the first semester of college, you haven't yet decided on your major. Luckily, you have quite a few general education classes to take, so you register all in one night.

You'll have the time to figure it all out as time goes by, no?

The rest of summer is spent juggling moving into the campus' dorms, working, and keeping up with some friends from high school. While you've kept contact with a few friends, you definitely kicked yourself in the ass for forgetting to ask Kazuha for his number...how could you forget one of your best friends?

But, you suppose that he's far off in a whole other city with his wish to experience more. You can't help but wonder what he's up to.

Then, the first day of classes starts.

How did you not figure out where everything is first? Instead of moping, you trudge to the administrative building early to ask for directions and, even better, a map of the large campus.

Instead, you find a familiar head of cream-colored hair.

Immediately, you gasp and he turns around in confusion, only for a soft smile to spread over his features. It's only been a summer but it's a relief to see that you know another person. Comparing schedules, he points out that you both have Communications 1301 together.

For once, you're glad you have to take these mandatory courses...

But with an abundance of time (as Kazuha just so happens to know where the class is), he accepts your jokingly firtatious proposal to head to the cafe just across campus to grab a morning drink.

It's hardly been long since you've last spoken to him, but there's still so much to talk about! It turns out he opted to rent out a small studio apartment just a few blocks away from campus! Naturally, he invites you over sometime.

He's also admitted that he decided to major in English--something you're not surprised to hear. After all, Kazuha's a natural at the subject, exceeding the assignments and always so eloquent.

If you recall correctly, he used to tote around a little notebook full of little musings and poetry during high school. You wonder if he still does that.

You talk about how you've just moved into the dorms a week ago, how you're lucky to be rooming with two musically inclined (if not a bit rowdy) people. You're sure that he'd take a liking to them once everything is calmed down a bit. Kazuha just raises a brow in half-doubt.

Before you know it, it's been an hours and, to your horror, your first class starts in five minutes. Not to mention that it was back closer to the admin building and you were on the opposite side of campus.

But it's still fun, Kazuha laughing as you jolt up and tug him to stand, the two of you running to get to class on time. With heaving breaths and flushed faces, you make it just a few minutes late. Luckily, your professor didn't mind because it was the first day...

Following class, you have to make your way to Bio 1301, Kazuha having a major-specific English course to get to. Before you can speak, though, he offers his phone to you. It's newer than his old flip phone you'd tease him about all the time, the screen clean save for a few stray fingerprints.

After you put in your number, he beams and quickly sends you a call so you can have his too.

"Call me after you're done with classes, alright?"

You promise to and the two of you set off.

Biology proves to be uneventful, a full hour and a half of the (rather attractive) professor going over what to expect as well as passing out lab waiver forms. A necessary precaution, he said with a reserved sigh. You wonder what happened.

When the hour ends, you have some time before World History, followed by a Trigonometry course.

By the time you find your trig class, most of the seats are already taken, making that feeling of dread fill the pit of your stomach. Nothing is worse than being forced to take whatever seat is left. But, noticing a seat by the windows, it's not so bad.

You're in the back, though, settling your bag beneath your chair and picking out a pen and schedule book.

At some point, someone walks in and asks if the seat in front of you is taken. You don't bother to look up long as you fish out a notebook, letting him know it's free.

As class goes on, you realize that the guy in front of you most likely hasn't been paying attention. Considering that the professor has been rehashing stuff from Algebra...you're not surprised. But something about his dark hair catches your eye. Not to mention his striking gold eyes...hm.

It's not until you catch his profile as he stares out the window that it clicks.

"Xiao."

His eyes dart to look at you, a confused look washing over his face. You repeat his name.

"Yes?"

Part of him is just about ready to leave as recognition floods your expression, smile wide. How could you possibly---

"I can't believe the shy kid who used to tear up whenever his turn on the swing was taken would grow up to be this handsome!"

The tips of his ears turn red fast, something that you remember very well about him, and his gaze quickly flicks over to the professor still dragging on. When gold settles back on you, they're practically begging for you to lower your voice.

"It's been forever--I can't believe that you-"

"If you're going to talk, do it outside of class."

Ah. Oopsie.

Time seems to drag on while you buzz in your seat, excited to see your childhood friend after loosing contact. You've missed him over the years, always wondering what happened to him, how he's been. And finally, when class ends, he gets up and waits for you.

Naturally, you want to catch up, so you invite him to go to the cafe with you for a late lunch.

"You still like almond tofu right? It's all you used to eat when we were little." Laughing, you nudge his shoulder and the color returns to his cheeks as he mumbles a yes.

When you step into the cafe, a familiar voice greets you.

"If I knew a cute customer would be coming, I would've gone on break."

Kazuha leans on the counter, mirth in his eyes and you gasp. It makes sense now, why he's so well acquainted with the campus and why he'd already known what to order when you arrived for drinks-

"What can I get for you today?"

"Your number."

Xiao's face pales at the blatant flirting, wondering if he should've just declined the invitation to the cafe until the two of you burst into laughter. Though, it's hardly better.

"Sorry, sorry- This is Kazuha, one of my friends from high school. Kazuha, this is my childhood best friend Xiao."

With a day so filled with nice coincidences, you doubt that life can get any better than this.

Oh, how wrong you'd be.

#anon asks #no primogems anon #kazuha x xiao x reader #xiao and his two lovely dumb s/o's #college au #polycule #polyamory #meet cute #xiao #kazuha #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact drabbles #genshin impact fics #genshin impact

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fivelakesinwriting · 3 years

Note

can i request a jj or pope fic (if that’s what you’d call it), where the reader is suffering period cramps and other symptoms, and he comes to take care of her? probably a lot of fluff between them??

Author's Notes: Not enough love for our boy Pope, so I chose him! He would be the sweetest boyfriend, I think.

Warnings: Mentions of drugs, Swearing, Mentions of blood (it's about periods, y'all) - Otherwise, fluff!

Requested? YES! Requests for OBX are OPEN!

*My work is not to be transferred, copied, translated or reposted to any other sites without my permission. Please see my masterlist for all other works and warnings. Thank you! xoxo

Pope was so excited that it was the weekend. He had no extracurricular activities that day, and his only plans were to go out on the HMS Pogue with his friends and his new girlfriend. He woke up and was greeted by the sunniest Saturday morning he had seen in the long time and it was as if the stress and anxiety was lifted off of him.

He smiled to himself as he grabbed his phone off of his desk and checked his messages.

I can't come out today :(

Pope read the text message from his new girlfriend, they had only been official for about two months, and his heart sank. He let out a heavy sigh as he typed back a quick reply and changed into his clothes for the boat.

Pope couldn't keep the frown off of his face as he rode his bike to The Chateau. He had been looking forward to this Saturday on the water with the Pogues and his girlfriend all week. Sun, water and a pretty girl in a (hopefully) small swimsuit was just what he needed to get his mind off all this Royal Merchant and Denmark Tanny nonsense.

He hopped off his bike, letting it fall to the ground in the drive of The Chateau then stalked up towards the open door of the front porch.

"Whoa. Easy, Big Guy. Gonna break my door. You look like someone broke your project for the Science Fair." John B mumbled as he pulled on a t-shirt he grabbed from the back of the old couch.

"She's not coming." Pope grumbled as he sat down on the couch beside Kiara as she finished packing the cooler.

"What do you mean she's not coming? We've had this planned since like, last week. Stoked to finally meet your girl, man." JJ mumbled as he finished pinching the last bit of weed into the rolling paper.

"Says that she can't come out today because 'it has been a red dawn'. Whatever that means." Pope sighed as he turned his phone over in his hand, resting his head back on the couch.

Kiara burst out laughing, her hand over her mouth as she kept her eyes fixed on the cooler at her feet.

"What? Why is that funny?" Pope asked as he lifted his head up from the couch to look between his friends.

"She has her period, Pope. She doesn't want to come out because she has her period and is probably embarrassed to be around you and boys she doesn't know." Kiara replied as she looked over at the Heyward boy who still looked confused.

"Red Dawn, now that was a good movie." JJ stated as he put the freshly rolled joint behind his ear, and stood up.

"JJ." Both Kiara and Pope sighed as they looked over at the blonde boy.

"I'm just saying." JJ smirked as he adjusted his red hat on his head, then stood up and made his way over to the small television set on the other side of the room, crouched down and began to rummage through the small cabinet beneath.

"Well, I guess I'll just for two weeks after exams and prep classes are over. It just sucks because this was like, the one weekend she and I both had." Pope muttered as he rested his head back on the couch.

"Who says that you can't see her?" Kiara asked with a furrowed brow.

"Well..I just figured she'd want to be alone." Pope stammered.

"She's not a leper, Pope. And even if she were, she's your girlfriend." Kiara rolled her eyes as she swatted her friend's chest.

"Hate to admit it, but she's right. Take this and go see your girl instead. Boat will still here next weekend." JJ grinned as he walked over to Pope and handed him a dusty DVD.

"Red Dawn? JJ, I can't bring this." Pope held the DVD up to show the title back to the grinning Maybank boy, and shook his head.

"C'mon. She'll think it's funny." JJ laughed with a pat of Pope's shoulder before he made his way down the hall of The Chateau.

"Don't bring that." Kiara muttered under her breath.

"I'm not." Pope replied.

By the time Pope got to her house, still on The Cut, it was mid- morning and the sun was blazing hot. He dropped his bike in the empty driveway and wiped his brow with the hem of his shirt. He walked up the steps to the front door and knocked lightly.

"Pope?" She opened the door and greeted him in baggy sweat pants and an oversized sweater.

"Hi. I know you said that you didn't want to come out today, but I thought...well, Kiara thought..that you might want some company. And I thought that, too. But I didn't want to overstep and invade your space. But I guess I'm here now." Pope rambled as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other on the front step.

"No, it's okay. Pope, I'm really glad you came over. Come inside." She smiled softly as she took hold of his hand, lacing their fingers and pulled him inside the house, towards her bedroom.

"I was just going to watch a movie." She smiled as she sat on the edge of her bed and looked up at him as he stood awkwardly in the doorway of her bedroom.

"That's perfect. I actually brought you some snacks. I wasn't sure what you might be craving, I know you always flip flop between chocolate or candy. So I brought you both." Pope smiled softly as he walked slowly to the edge of the bed and sat next to her, pulling his backpack off his shoulders.

Pope opened up his backpack and pulled out one bag of Skittles and another bag of M&M's, passing them to her.

"You're the sweetest boyfriend, ever." She smiled as she pressed a kiss to his cheek.

"I do request I get at least a handful of the Skittles, though." Pope blushed as he wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her close.

"I can do that. Hey, what's that? You brought a movie?" She smiled as she pointed the the DVD that sat at the bottom of his bag.

"What? No, I didn't...damnit, JJ." Pope sighed as he rubbed his forehead.

She smirked and reached into the bag before he grab her hand to stop her. She looked at the DVD with a smile and read the bright yellow Post-It note on the front. JJ's unmistakable printing on the note.

IT WILL BE FUNNY.

"I'm so sorry. That was JJ's idea of a joke. He wanted me to bring this movie because of your text.." Pope sighed as he reached for the DVD.

"You don't want to show me the movie?" She giggled as she held the movie out of his reach.

"If you want to watch it, sure." Pope nodded with a sigh of relief. For once JJ's antics hadn't gotten him kicked in the ass. Especially with a girl he liked.

"Pop it in the player, it's over there." She giggled as she pointed the small television across her bedroom.

Pope smiled and did as was requested of him, putting the DVD in the old player. He grabbed the remote and walked back over the bed and laid with her as she already opened the bag of Skittles.

"Pope?" She asked softly as he settled against the headboard and fast forwarded through all the trailers and advertisements he didn't care about.

"Yeah?" He looked down at her, and he felt his heartbeat start to quicken. She was so pretty, and she liked him.

"Do you think you could rub my belly for a little bit? I have cramps, and they suck." She whispered as she rested her forehead on his shoulder.

"Really?" Pope asked as he slid his back down the headboard to be closer to her on the mattress.

"Yeah. Your hands are always so warm and soft." She nodded as she rested against him, her head on his shoulder as she watched the television.

"Sure." Pope smiled as he slowly, tentatively, reached beneath his shirt and pressed the palm of his hand just beneath her belly button and softly rubbed back and forth. He kissed the top of her head as she nestled into him even more.

"Thanks for staying behind from the boat to keep me company, Pope." She whispered against his neck.

"No need to thank me. I think I like this better." Pope replied softly.

"I don't know why JJ said we should watch this movie, though. There's minimal blood. Should have watched Carrie or something." She smiled as she looked up at his face.

"You're so weird. And I'm not watching Carrie again. Watched it once in the 8th grade because JJ made me, and I'm not doing it again." Pope laughed, his hand still running across the warm skin of her stomach just under her belly button.

"Oh, no. Poor little Pope." She giggled as she wrapped her arms around his midsection and pulled him close.

"Yeah, so if you want to watch horror movies you'll probably have to ask JJ." Pope replied as he kissed the top of her head.

"I will protect you, Pope." She whispered against his chest and held him tightly.

Pope felt content in that small bedroom with his girlfriend, the fan blowing straight on them as they watched that stupid movie JJ must has shoved in his backpack when he walked out the living room earlier. He supposed he owed him a thank you.

Maybe.

Hottie List:

@starkey-babie @sodasback @fashion-fasting @beauvibaby @barrysjumpsuit @vinniehcker

*tag list still open if you'd like to be added - just let me know!

Please let me know what you think if you have a moment! Thank you so much! xoxo

Requests for OBX ARE OPEN!

#pope heyward fic #pope heyward #pope heyward imagine #pope heyward fluff #outer banks pope #outer banks fluff #obx requests #obx fic #obx fluff #obx imagine #outer banks imagines #outer banks fic #outer banks requests

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hargrove-mayfields · 3 years

Text

Day one of the Horror on Cherry Lane Challenge! I’ll be participating this month as a writer! The prompt for today is Knife!

warnings for mentions of suicidal ideation and attempts, death, child abuse, and blood.

Billy met Steve in the psych ward.

Well, they met officially at Tina’s party, but that wasn’t the real Steve. That was the King Steve. Deeper than that though, even the Steve Harrington everyone else saw even after the breakup and the fall from grace still wasn’t the real thing.

That was fake smiles, overdone nonchalance to cover up the wound from his fallen status. Now he was stripped down to himself, all bloody bandages and tired eyes, the boy he was pretending to be finally broken down to reveal this.

Apparently, Ruthie Harrington found her son with his grandfather's switchblade- all the other objects in the house sharper than a spoon and with less sentimental value had already been tossed -bleeding all over her freshly polished linoleum floors. She dropped him off at the hospital a night ago and nobody’s been by to see him since.

Now, it’s by pure coincidence that Billy’s already in on the same day Steve’s admitted.

He’s been locked up the past three days compared to Steve’s one. These small town hicks are jumpier (ha) than he thought, and don’t think doing the walk and turn test on the edge of the quarry after downing a bottle and a half of fireball is as funny as he does. Whatever. Cid would’ve thought that was badass as hell.

So he was admitted, on suicide watch for a stupid joke that wasn’t really worth it, or even really a joke. Max came to visit once. She punched him in the chest as hard as she could and cursed him out for an hour. She’d never done that before. By the time she left they were both in tears, and maybe Billy realized a thing or too about his carelessness. Realized for the first time that someone cared.

But he’s still in here for another week and a half by law, so. He’s not going to mope about it. And while Steve Harrington showing up is about the last thing he’s expecting, he decides that’s at least something he can work with. Definitely brings a little life to the place.

He waits until Steve’s intense watch period is over to bug him, once they’re out of their cramped little rooms for a couple of hours to “socialize” (see, the more sound of mind keep an eye on the other patients while the nurses take their smoke breaks) Billy goes straight to Steve. Him and Harrington are far from friends, but that’s pretty much irrelevant when the only other choices for company are kids younger than them too scared to approach them and people too deep in their midlife crises to bother with teenage drama.

Throwing himself down in the blue plastic chair across from where Steve settled in, Billy kicks his feet up on the table,, “What’s up Harrington? Didn’t expect to see a familiar face in here.”

But Steve, poor Steve, takes one look at Billy with those haunted brown eyes, and his face just falls completely apart. There are tears on his way too pale cheeks before Billy even has a chance to breathe.

The smile drops off of Billy’s face, “Jesus Harrington, I know m’not looking my best surviving on hospital food and cigarettes without a hairbrush, but that’s a little unwarranted.”

“Shut up. Not everything’s about you, Hargrove.”

“Oh I disagree with that. But I get the point. I’ll let ya be.” Billy hums, scooting his chair back and getting up. He stops when Steve starts to speak, “Y-You outta be careful saying that kinda stuff in here.”

“What?”

“That the world revolves around you. They’ll come up with a diagnosis for that and keep you here forever. Drug you ‘til you forget your own name, let alone your status.” Steve tells him with humor, wiping the tears off his face.

Billy nods in understanding, sits back down with an interested smirk, “This ain’t your first time here, is it?”

“Is it yours?”

“Nah. I’ve done some shit on purpose, some on accident. Once it wasn’t even me. But s’never done anything to help so far.”

Steve puffs out a sigh, “Don’t I know it.. I’ve been in and outta this place since I was like, ten. Clearly nothing’s changed.”

“Why? What’s your dirty little secret, Harrington?”

“I cut myself, dumbass.” He deadpans, looking at Billy with a bluntness in his expression that reads more concerning, more like indifference to what he just said than matter-of-fact.

“No shit. But that ain’t the secret.” Billy probes further, can tell he’s getting under that mask Steve wears, “Why do you do it?”

“Legally, I can't tell you. And I don’t think I would anyways.”

“What about if I tell you all about me first? I got no reservations ‘cept the one that got me a bed here.”

“It’s not a hotel, Hargrove.”

“Eh, might as well be. Feels like the damn hotel California.”

“Is that why?”

“Huh? Oh no, I been pullin’ stunts like this long before we left Cali.”

“Like what?”

“Like downing two full bottles of my mother’s meds after she left. Not at the same time obviously, or I wouldn’t be here. Mostly ‘cause my dad didn’t even wanna take me to the hospital either time.” Billy doesn’t look at Steve while he elaborates. Not because he cares, he’s an open book, if a random old woman at the grocery store asked about his last attempt, he’d tell her.

But. He doesn’t like watching people’s faces. Seeing sympathy and concern there. It makes him feel all stupid and guilty. It’s usually not like that with other kids like him, but Steve’s different. He’s got a big heart. Even if there’s no room for himself.

And Billy hurt Steve before. He doesn’t want to see someone he caused pain caring so much about him. He already cracked when Max came to see him. This could be what splits him open, spills out all the things he’s covered up.

So he keeps going, “And like runnin’ out in front of traffic with my friends. They thought we were just playin’ chicken ‘til I stopped dead in front of a station wagon. Metal rims’d done me in for sure if one ‘a the older boys hadn’t pulled me outta the way. Damn near ripped my shirt in half how fast he grabbed me.”

“I’m guessing your parents are the reason why then?”

“Yessir.” Billy deflects, not good at getting deeper into it, “You wanna tell me yours then?”

“I started cutting because Tommy Hagan told me about it. He thought it was freaky, but when he ran his mouth about how they found the neighbor kid in his room, drained of all his blood from his wrists, I wanted to try it. I’ve tried liquor and drugs and all kinds ‘a shit I shouldn’t, but nothin’ stuck like cutting.” Steve pauses for a long time, his eyes going blank, staring right past Billy, “When my mom found out she.. she.. Forget it.”

“Hey, you seen my skeletons. Can’t I see yours?”

“No. I don’t wanna fucking talk about it anymore.” Steve answers, despite his assuredness, his tone wobbling with some unidentifiable emotion.

Talk about mood swings. Billy doesn’t get how nobody would’ve noticed something was up before Steve started carving into himself. Really, he knows someone would have seen it and just ignored it.

It only gets worse though, the reservedness turning to sadness and frustration. None of the words are coming out, but he can tell Steve’s thinking of the stories, reliving all that got him to the here and now. Billy can also tell there’s nothing he can do no to stop him from doomsdaying.

So when Steve is inevitably in the thralls of a panic attack, he tries to hug him tight, to try to get it to stop maybe, that always worked for him at least, but Steve swats him away. Judging from the way he winces, it’s not easy for him to do either, with those thick ass bandages constricting his wrists, but the tears and the pain on his face are buried behind his resolution.

He’s hiding something from Billy.

In hindsight, talking to a new patient about past attempts probably wasn’t his brightest idea anyways, so he switches the subject while Steve works on coming down from his panic attack. He brings up Max and her little nerds, trying to bridge the healthier connections between him and Steve that they’d both been ignoring since the fight. He mentions basketball too, another something they have in common other than trying to kill themselves.

It doesn’t really work, though Steve does stop shaking as bad, just curling up in his little chair and sniffling, pretending not to listen while Billy rambles on and on. But he doesn’t talk. It’s probably better for him not to anyway. Billy himself has been known to say some dumb shit when he’s in distress.

Ultimately, even once the conversation runs out, he stays with Steve until dark. He can tell from the way his gaze sticks to the floor that Steve recovered from his fit a while ago, but he’s embarrassed by having a breakdown in front of him, as if he isn’t in here for the same reason. It helps that he gets it though, and they sit in a comfortable, albeit very prolonged, silence.

Long after Steve gets xanned up and knocked out though, while Billy is still free to wander until the midnight curfew as a low risk patient, he decides to stick with him in his room. Billy’ll never admit it, but he gets nightmares, and he doesn’t want to face that just yet, so with a new friend as an excuse, he’s up half the night watching Steve sleep.

He remembers what happened earlier, how focused Steve was on keeping him away from him, despite his panic, and decides, with a glance at how deeply Steve is sleeping, his greasy hair all strewn about on stiff pillows, that he’s going to figure out what it was.

He snoops around in his bedside drawers, in the bathroom, in the locker in the corner. It’s there he notices the knitted jacket Steve was wearing before, hanging heavy to one side, like there’s something in its pocket. He touches it and feels the outline of something small, so he pulls it out.

He regrets checking though, because it’s a knife. Judging from the old looking engravings on its handle, and the coppery stains within the grooves, it’s specifically the very same one that got Steve hospitalized.

He shoves it in his own back pocket and keeps looking, with a quick glance at Steve, finding a note tucked where the knife had been. Written in perfect scrawl on bond paper that’s been folded a dozen times and stained with tears,

“Do it right next time, why don’t you? Your mother is too soft on you. I’m not paying for this again.

- J.Harrington.”

Billy doesn’t know what to do but throw the note in the trash. Not really in shock, but definitely more than a little fucked up from reading that, he sits on the end of Steve’s bed. His own dad, who'd more than once been the one putting him in the hospital, had never even said anything like that to him.

He didn’t get to talk to Steve much today, but they’ve got as long as Billy’s stuck in here together to fix that. Longer if he just pulls something in front of a nurse. And he wants to, really really wants to.

Because he knows he just met the real Steve, can recognize another broken boy when he sees one, and he knows too, that he never wants to meet a pretty boy like this again.

And if that’s his declaration to get clean, then so fucking be it.

But. He never promised not to hurt anyone. Ultimately he’d still need that outlet.

He keeps the knife. To make sure his pretty boy doesn’t get hurt again.

#CherryLaneChallenge #harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #ej writer #story by ej!#tw self harm #tw attempted suicide #tw blood #happy October!#I’m so excited!#I’m gonna try to do all of this but I’m real busy coming up!#im not sure what vibe I’m goin got in this challenge #but I think it’s mostly haunting?#not scary but like that oh moment y’know

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violetnotez · 4 years

Text

When They Taste Their s/o’s Chapstick| HQ Edition

Welcome to Hannah has no sleep schedule lmao-but I remember I did these HC for BNHA and they did really well, so I thought I would do some for HQ too! I might do more characters and not make the HC so detailed, but I hope you like these! 🤍

Music Genre: Acoustic | HQ

Characters: Atsumu, Yamaguchi, Bokuto

Warning: cursing

Music Collection | Tip Jar | Requests!

Atsumu: Cherry

The bright ass teacher who thought it would be smart to put your boyfriend right behind you was realllllllyyyy smart 🙃

Okay sarcasm aside this dude is annoying in the cutest way possible????

This guy gets bored super quick, and knowing his dear, sweet s/o is gonna take all the notes he needs makes him use the class period to just mess with you

(Also him not paying attention in class secretly gets him to be able to have study dates with you, so yeah, Atsumu isn’t learning nothing from the teacher 💀)

Some days it’s bad-he will kick your chair just to laugh at your pissed off face,

He’ll air drop you memes, cute puppy pics,,,sometimes shirtless pics if he’s reallllyyyy bored 🙃😳

But some days he’s a little better and not so annoying,,,,like playing with your hair, passing notes to you, or just casually texting you about random things that are on his mind

But today he was poking your back like his life depended on it

You tried to ignore it for as long as you could, trying to just focus on the teacher droning on about some random war-

Until this fucker flicks your head

You instantly swivel around, pissed written all over your face as he gives you a smug ass look

“Took ya long enough,” he whispered, clearly enjoying bugging you, “but ya got some chapstick?”

Kinda wierd and not what you were expecting but-whatever

You just roll your eyes and nod yes, quietly shuffling through you pencil bag

Poor Atsumu lost his a few days back and hadn’t been able to get more, so he’s really feeling it on his fifth day of no chapstick

He takes it, putting it on and going to hand it to you but soemthing stops him

Cause whoa-this tastes just like you

He hand sit back, kinda just mesmerized...cause this taste is exactly what he tastes everytime he kisses you, like he’s eating candy

No wonder why to him kissing you was addicting cause you tasted like a lollipop lmao 💀

But anyways, after class he decided to test this theory of his out

He walks you out of class, shouldering your backpack for you as you two walk to the cafeteria

“Cmon, lets go this way today,” he says with a small grin, leading you down a more secluded hallway

The moment you two seem to be alone he attacks

Atsumu is a fricking good kisser maybe a little rough but UGH he is gooooddddddd 🥴

He grabs ahold of your back, pressing you against him, you feet slowly rising to meet his lips

He pulls away, loving how surprised and flustered you look as he brushes his thumb against your lips

He’s really happy, cause yup, you taste exactly like the chapstick-sugary sweet but still tart, just like a cherry

you will never find your chapsticks ever again he will always be stealing them so he can taste you 24/7

Yamaguchi: Mint

Practice had finished, but today it was pretty cloudy

And of course, the moment the gym was cleaned up and everybody was ready to head out

It was pouring buckets

Yamaguchi was always a big softie, but he was also super protective over you

So he always makes sure to walk you home everyday

Fricking cuteeee 🥺

He was getting all of his stuff under the awning of the gym when he saw you running towards him in your uniform

You were smiling, trying desperately to keep your backpack dry as you ran through the rain shower

The way this boy yelled your name 😂💀 you would have thought you were dying

Yamaguchi can be really protective he has tooooooo

He doesn’t have an umbrella, so he unzips his black volleyball jacket and just starts running towards you like his life depends on it

His white volleyball tee cannot survive this amount of water and is soaked, but he really doesn’t mind,,,,

Your confused on why he took of his jacket, until this sweet guy uses it as a makeshift canopy and shields both your heads from the rain

You start to chuckle, cause he just looks so cute, his cheeks red from being sheepish making his freckles more prominent but this proud grin on his face

“Yams, you didnt have to get all wet for me,” you say with a smile, your digits wiping away droplets of water from his cheeks

*cue him turning even redder

and then you give him a quick kiss on his lips

HES COMBUSTINGGGGGGGGGGGG-

this guy gets flsuetred so quickly ITS SO CUTE😭

But something is much, much different about that kiss than before-

His lips are tingly and ticklish and he’s like WTH

But it feels-nice?? Like it almost makes the kiss feel like its lasting longer on his skin-

You dont even notice him being totally just dazzed out as he tries to figure out whats going on and grab his hand, leading him inside the gym to wait for the storm to pass

As your digging in your backpack to make sure none of your notes got wet from the rain, Tadashi noticed that something rolled out of your backpack

And lo and behold! Its chapstick! ☺

Before he hands it to you, he notices its a Mint flavor-

and it allllllll makes sense to him

After he walks you home he guiltily SPRINTS his ass over to the convivence store

THIS MAN IS ON A MISSION

He was in there for a good hour searching for hat same brand+flavor

After he found it he is now obsessed with it and applies it like crazy cause it reminds him of you 🥺

Bokuto: Strawberry Sorbet

Bokuto has just gotten out of class, Akaashi right next to him as he went to go meet you by your locker

You three were lowkey like the Three Musketeers-

just two of the musketeers happened to be dating lmao

Anywayssss the man was already jumping around just from the idea of seeing you

It had been 5 whole hours since he last had contact with you-the horror 💀

Akaashi was pretty much used to this behavior, as Bokuto always needed a dose of y/n love every other hour to keep him preppy and up beat

Once Bokuto saw you, he immeditaely bounded over time you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder

“Hey baby birdie, missed me?” He said eagerly, placing a kiss on your lips

Usually after kissing you he’d just cuddle you close to him as the three of you waited for the rest of the team to go to practice....but soemthing was off

But in a good way

You tasted reallllyyyyyyyyyy yummy to him-but he had no idea what it was

This man has no shame

Like at all

He just starts kissing you

Over and

Over again

He can’t figure out why you taste so good! He can’t even figure what the flavor even is...So of course he has to keep “taste testing” 💀🙃

You have no idea the hell is going on, your face flushed you were in school still lmaooo

The dude was just attacking your poor lips at this point

Poor Akaashi is just as embarrassed as you 😂💀

“Bo!” You finally were able to muster out, gasping after the assault to your airwaves you just had

Poor guy looks so defeated and confused, still not knowing what was going

Sad baby bird look 🥺

“B-but babe,” he said, almost whimpering, “I don’t know why you taste good,,,”

You give him a “the hell you talking about face”,,,until it dawns on you that you had bought a new chapstick

Your just laughing, cause who knew Bokuto would be so intense over some damn chapstick

None of these characters or shows are my own, only the storylines and narratives I create are mine. Copying, stealing, plagiarizing, rewording, or using my storylines in other media, claiming to be your own, or reposting without my consent is not allowed.

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missinghan · 4 years

Text

broken umbrella ⤖ han jisung

❖ genre : high school au; fluff

❖ word count : 1,6k.

❖ warning : explicit language

❖ summary : a typical day in your life starts with having candies poured over your head and ends with breaking han jisung’s umbrella.

❖ note : I wanted to write smth dumb okay-

one.

Jisung gives his desk a harsh kick, one that does no good in releasing his inner storm, only to wince in pain later because he’s an idiot.

Classes have been somewhat less than boring these days, partially because his mind is occupied with thoughts of you half of the time and partially because…well, more thoughts of you. Oh wait, today is a little different than usual considering the fact that you did not give him a proper response.

To what?

Putting it simply, he woke up early this morning to go over his routine more thoroughly—styling his hair, making sure that his tie isn’t sloppy-looking, and spraying himself with his brother’s cologne. He doesn’t usually care for any one of those things until junior starts and you show up. Call him desperate, or delusional, or childish even but it truly felt like fate when you two first encountered each other.

“Yeah right, fate,” Hyunjin snickers loudly, swirling a strawberry-flavored lollipop inside his mouth. “You meant when you fell on your ass on the bus the other day and you accidentally grabbed her collar?”

Jisung feels his cheeks heat up thanks to his friend’s less than necessary comment. “Shut the fuck up, you’re just jealous.” It was great. Not only did he fall head over heels for you, but he also left a bad impression.

Back to the point. All of his hard work this morning is reduced to nothing because of the rain. His hair is messed up, his uniform looks sloppy, and his shoes are covered in mud from skipping through puddles. Not to mention, he showed up timely enough to be there when you opened your locker, having various candies and sweets poured down your head, scattered all over the hallway.

Yeji should have told him you didn’t like sweet things yesterday, damn it. Because he’s never seen you giving him that look before. The look that makes him believe you will make him experience torment and pain, begging for the mercy that never comes—make his life a living hell basically.

“How did your plan go, by the way?” His friend asks out of boredom.

“Fantastic,” he replies under his breath when everything is, in fact, not fantastic.

Hyunjin tilts his head. “Did she know?”

“Know what? That I’m in love with her? I mean I wasn’t trying to be subtle or anything-“

“No, did she know that it was gonna rain today?”

Shrugging, he closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose in exhaustion; forty-five minutes periods should be illegal. “Why does that matter?”

“Hey, Han!”

Jisung turns his head to the voice and sees Felix sliding the door to his classroom open, uneven breaths as if he’s been running for his life while holding two umbrellas in his arms. He glances at his friend’s state with a grimace, head cocked to the side in confusion. Luckily, no one really spends recess in class except for loners like himself anyway. “What are you doing?”

“Y/N didn’t bring an umbrella!” The freckled boy exclaims with excitement, only able to coax an amused hum from Hyunjin. “But you have an umbrella, and it’s still raining! Which means…?”

A comical silence falls upon the three of them. It takes Jisung approximately five taps of Hyunjin’s finger on the table to fully process his friend’s point. Realization lights up in his eyes like a candle but dies down with a pout on his face. “But she can just go with her friends?” he says with expressive hands, though a little disappointed.

“I’m not gonna half-ass it if I plan on helping you,” Felix gives the two umbrellas, a white one and a pink one, in his hands a slight jerk, looking oddly proud.

This time, Jisung catches on immediately; his eyes go wide in shock as though his friend has committed the greatest sin. “Yeji and Lia are so gonna kill you.”

two.

“Did you bring an umbrella?” Lia asks while hopeless rummaging through her stuff. “I swear with my own eyes I saw myself putting one in my bag this morning.”

Yeji shakes her head in defeat, tugging at the straps of her backpack. “I was pretty sure I brought one too. I even used it to walk to the bus stop this morning! Someone must have taken it during recess,” she sighs, dreading the pouring rain and grey clouds.

It’s raining again. It’s only been raining today, the weather forecast did predict that it’s most likely going to last for a whole week too (not that you bothered checking). You don’t mind the rain, though. You like the fact that they make the world appear mistier, hazier like a fever dream.

What isn’t good about the rain is the fact that your parents won’t be too happy to see you come home looking like a wet rat. Or the fact that you’ll probably get a really bad cold, and that won’t be pretty during midterms week. Or the fact that most students are absolute idiots and didn’t bring their own umbrellas either. Everyone is shoving each other for space under the canopy at the main gate so the rain won’t soak their clothes.

You’re not having it. At all.

“Yeji, Lia. I’m going home,” you purse your lips together and take a breath.

Lia frowns at your particular solution. “Already? But you’re gonna get wet.”

“My house is a ten-minute walk away. Shouldn’t be too bad,” you say lowly in faint annoyance, eyes squinted from the discomfort of lack of space; these students have no manners whatsoever, you’re getting claustrophobic.

With a determined huff, you pull the zipper of your jacket up and throw the hood over your hair. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

Shadow suddenly looms over the top of your head, warmth radiates to your clothed arm. In the corner of your eyes, a familiar face comes into view and forces a heavy exhale from your lips.

“Hey, do you wanna go with-“ Jisung pauses midway when you take off running, shattering his fantasy of living in a drama into bits without mercy. “Y/N! Wait up!”

three.

“Come here! Or you’ll get sick!”

“Why the hell do you care?”

“Y/N, stop being so stubborn! You’re gonna catch a cold!”

“It’s none of your business.”

After walking down several blocks down the road, past nothing but empty plazas and mostly closed café, you even take an extra U-turn, going through a skeptical alley just so Jisung will get tired and stop following you. Your effort doesn’t not prevail so you give up eventually, deciding to take the proper turn to head home before it’s too late to prepare dinner.

The poor boy can feel the rain drizzle down his black umbrella before falling onto his windbreaker, soaking through the fabric to stain his senses with a chilling sensation. He has already calmed every racing thought that ceases to ease his erratic heartbeat but no matter how hard he tries, there isn’t one second where he isn’t thinking about your well-being.

“Hey,” he calls out; when you turn around, he’s closing his umbrella and tossing it to the ground, leaving it to graze the tip of your shoes. “Take it and go home. I won’t bother you anymore.”

You roll your eyes before picking it up, mercilessly letting it flop right in front of him. “I don’t need it.”

Jisung clicks his tongue in irritation, not caring that droplets are falling from his head and his skin is crawling from the cold. Somehow, he’s starting to become baffled for no reason. Perhaps it’s because of your nonchalance about the current situation; you shouldn’t be so apathetic when he’s genuinely worried sick for your health.

His eyes are heavy with rain droplets so he blinks them away before glaring at you slightly. “You need it more than I do. Would you please stop acting irrationally, take the umbrella and head home? The rain isn’t stopping anytime soon.” His leg jerks up to kick at the innocent object; still isn’t enough to relish the turmoil hurling his innards.

He brushes past you, shoving your shoulder a little while expecting you to finally accept his offer. To his dismay, you once again grab at the poor, poor umbrella, and throw it at his leg with more force this time. When it drops to the ground with a small thud, his heart pauses awkwardly in disappointment.

The sun is going down by the second but you can still see the faint outline of his scowl. “Go home, Jisung. It’s getting late,” you remark coldly, stuffing your freezing hands into your pocket.

With a loud groan, he marches back to where you two were originally standing, a curse word lingers on the tip of his tongue. But he manages to swallow it back down before gently tugging at the sleeve of your jacket. “Take the umbrella at least,” he voices softly, the crack more evident than anything at the end. “Look, I know I’ve been nothing but a nuisance since we first met. I just really like you and I care for you okay? Go home, Y/N.”

“Please.”

You look at him after moments, your once hateful eyes finally glinting with something else other than general distaste and annoyance. It only takes one glance of his tired eyes to pierce through your phlegmatic front, leaving your raw emotions out in the open. Before Jisung can say another word or take notice of the rare warmth creeping in your gaze, you take his hand in yours and pull him toward a nearby apartment complex to not wait out in the downpour any longer. By the time that you’ve released the grip, he’s still staring into the nothingness, eyes slightly wide in shock.

“What are you doing? Aren’t you gonna go home?” he blurts out finally after snapping out of it.

“This is my apartment complex. But I must have dropped my card somewhere. So I can’t go inside.”

A sigh. “Is anyone home right now?”

“My phone is dead.”

Jisung perks up and his hand fishes inside his pocket. “You can use-”

You inhale deeply, looking away. “Enough is enough, Jisung. Go home.”

“You broke my umbrella,” he mentions, blinking rapidly to bat the droplets away from his eyelashes. “I can’t go home like this.”

Few beats of silence later, a middle-aged woman dressed in a beige trench coat walks past the both of you, two high school students pathetically standing under the canopy like wet rats; she swipes her card against the security lock and the glass door pops open without much effort. Sparing you the last look, she’s probably thinking ‘kids these days’ before heading inside with a roll of her eyes.

Jisung hurriedly skips over to hold the door open for you, motions for you to walk in with his head. To his surprise, you comply but bring your steps to a halt to situate yourself in front of him. His lashes are wet and heavy; that’s when you realize how soaked you both are and how terribly cold the temperature it’s getting. Your hand reaches out to brush the raindrops away softly, shaking his heart to the core.

The silence is graceful in the wake of the moment, the rain in the background just makes everything that much more cinematic. However, Jisung isn’t in the right mind state to fanboy over the fact that his drama fantasy is one step closer to reality. He wishes to cling to this moment forever because he just can’t get enough. He can never.

“I’ll get you a towel,” you pull away calmly, thinking how cute he sort of looks when his cheeks are three shades redder. “And a new umbrella.”

His smile has never been brighter, you notice. Even when he’s out in the brutal cold and completely drenched from head to toe. And wait...have his eyes always been so pretty?

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