#and i've tried mentioning this on my writing blog....
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isekyaaa · 7 months ago
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I know it's the point for reader-inserts fics to be romantic, but the way people write them so dripping in unrealistic fantastical puppy love really triggers this innately viscerally repulsed reaction in me.
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crazy-grrrl-on-the-computer · 6 months ago
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Last line tag game!
Rules: In a new post, show the last line you wrote (or drew) and tag as many people as there are words (or however many you like).
Tagged by @auniverseforgotten and @thatlittledandere
I'm back on my Ichiryuu bullshit (as if I ever really left)~ uwu <3
The sound of his classmate’s voice earnestly calling out stopped Ichiban from running and he pivoted just enough to see that Zaou’s hand had reflexively reached out – reaching for him – but froze partway. “I was just… surprised,” Zaou explained carefully like he was thinking about each word before he said it. “I am pretty busy, so I wouldn’t have time every day and sometimes certain things come up last minute, but I guess I could use the help.” Ichiban tried to swallow his nerves, but his heart was in the way. “I understand. When would be a good time for you?” Zaou hummed absentmindedly as he searched for an answer, then suddenly his eyes lit up. “Ah! Give me your phone.” Ichiban obediently fished it out of his pocket and placed it in Zaou’s expectant hand. It wouldn’t occur to him until after the shock had worn off that perhaps he should have asked why first, but the fact that Zaou’s fingers were masterfully navigating his phone screen was doing unexpected things to his brain chemistry that he was sure would accidentally translate into a mortifying collection of words the instant he opened his mouth. This was a bad idea. Possibly the worst idea. Why did he ever think he could— “Here,” Zaou mercifully interrupted his spiraling train of thought and held the phone out to him again. “I’ll have to check my schedule first, so I’ll text you when I work something out.”
Trying to pretend that this is a "last line" game instead of just a "last thing I wrote" game is a fool's errand for me at this point. I truly cannot shut up about the things I love and this is my most wordy contribution to the feedback loop yet. //bricked
Tagging: @auniverseforgotten , @darth-salem-emperor-of-earth , @koolkitty9 , @floweryuu , @lanliingwang
As always, there’s no pressure to share and if I missed someone who wants to be included feel free to consider yourself also tagged~ <3
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dreamscapeee222 · 3 days ago
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OHello, I hope you are well, I was looking at your blog and I loved your writing style <3
Can I ask for a scenario with Arcane characters where the reader is Isekai? Like he knows everything that will happen in the series and is actively avoiding the events that will cause serious problems
Thank you in advance
A/n: Hello :) Thank you so much !! Ooh this is something I've never really done before. I've tried my best and I hope it suits what you had in mind <3
Vi, Jinx, Caitlyn, Ekko, Jayce, Viktor, Mel
Masterlist
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Vi
When you first arrive in Piltover, Vi notices how you’re more guarded, more careful than she’s ever seen you. At first, she doesn’t understand why, but when you slip up and mention something that hasn’t happened yet, she starts to get suspicious.
You're always trying to avoid certain people, certain places. The dangerous ones. She picks up on it, and it’s a little unsettling at first, like you know too much about the future. But she doesn’t ask—you’ve got your own reasons.
She starts to trust you more, though. Maybe you don’t tell her everything, but she can tell when you’re genuinely trying to keep her safe. When things get tense, and she’s about to charge in headfirst (like always), you pull her back. “Not this time,” you say, and she just listens. You’ve seen how these moments turn out, and she trusts you enough not to question it.
It’s not just about saving her anymore. You’ve got a whole new layer of connection. When she’s caught off guard, when she needs reassurance, your presence calms her, like you’re already a step ahead of what’s coming. You’re the one she turns to when things feel uncertain, because you’re the one who’s already lived through it.
Jinx
She knows something’s off about you, but she doesn’t care. At first, the randomness of your actions makes her laugh—avoiding certain fights, dodging obvious traps, steering clear of people she knows you don’t want to be around.
But then, when things start to get real, and you stop her from making a massive mistake—again, and again—she starts to feel it. You’re not just avoiding danger for the fun of it; you're trying to change the course of things. And, honestly, she’s scared.
You’re always pulling her away from situations, keeping her out of the chaos before it even begins. She hates it, but she also loves it, because in some twisted way, you’re saving her from herself.
The more time you spend together, the more she realizes she needs you. When the madness swells inside of her, and she can’t keep the craziness in check, you’re the one who calms her down. It’s not like she’d admit it, but it’s your presence that’s holding her together in a way no one else can. And, in a strange way, she starts to rely on you—not for fixing things, but for knowing exactly when things can’t be fixed, and when it’s okay to pull back.
Caitlyn
Caitlyn’s more methodical than the others, but she’s no stranger to sensing when something’s off. You’ve mentioned things before, offhandedly—nothing too direct, but enough to make her question. You know things, things that haven’t happened yet.
She watches you closely, your movements, the way you take certain routes, steer clear of certain areas, and try to talk people down from fights before they escalate. It’s not like she hasn’t seen it before, but there’s something different about you.
When things start going south—like, really south—she turns to you. “You’ve seen this before, haven’t you?” It’s not an accusation. It’s a quiet plea, because even Caitlyn, with all her careful planning, knows that sometimes fate is too big to outsmart.
You never tell her everything, but you don’t have to. In those moments of danger, when things feel out of control, she just trusts you. The way you guide her through the mess, calm her down when she wants to rush into something she knows will go wrong... it’s something she never realized she needed.
Ekko
Ekko always feels like he’s on the edge of something. He’s used to being a step ahead, but when you show up in his life—aware of things that haven’t happened yet—it’s like someone just dropped a stone in his perfect, planned world.
You’re always telling him to hold off on certain plans, and at first, he brushes it off. Then, when he sees how much better things turn out when he listens—when you steer him away from a fight, or when you help him avoid a trap—it gets harder for him to ignore the fact that you might know more than you let on.
He doesn’t say much about it. But there’s a subtle shift in the way he looks at you. He’s learning to trust your judgment, even when it goes against his instincts. Because he’s seen it. You’re keeping him safe. And somewhere deep down, he’s grateful, even if he’ll never admit it out loud.
Jayce
Jayce is all about forward momentum. He wants to believe that everything can be fixed, that they can change the world without the same mistakes being repeated. But you’re always holding him back.
There’s no question—you’ve seen it. You know where things go wrong, and you’re actively steering him away from it. The first time you call him out for heading toward a decision that’s going to end badly, he’s annoyed. He wants to argue. But when you look him in the eye, when you don’t back down, it stirs something in him.
As much as he wants to figure things out on his own, he can’t deny that you’re saving him from making the same mistakes. And slowly, when things begin to spiral, he starts to trust you. Not just as someone who knows, but as someone who cares. He’s never been one to lean on someone for help, but when you’re beside him, he finds himself relying on you more and more.
You’re the one who teaches him to think before acting—slow down, take a breath, and listen.
Viktor
Viktor’s not the type to be surprised easily. But when you start actively steering him away from certain people, situations, and plans, he starts to wonder. You’ve seen things. Things that haven’t happened yet.
At first, he tries to brush it off, thinking that maybe you’ve just got some uncanny instincts. But when you pull him away from something disastrous, and things go exactly the way you warned him about, he can’t pretend anymore.
You don’t say much. You don’t need to. But he starts to rely on your quiet guidance, the way you understand his hesitation before he even knows what’s coming. When the future starts to feel inevitable, you’re the one thing in his life that feels like a choice.
He doesn’t say it, but he’s grateful for you—more than he can express. You give him a sense of control over his own fate, something that’s been slipping through his fingers for so long.
Mel
Mel is the calmest of them all. She’s used to thinking ahead, playing the long game, and making careful decisions. But when she meets you, when she sees you quietly avoiding certain situations, people, and places, she starts to wonder if maybe you’ve seen things she hasn’t.
You never say much about your knowledge, but you never need to. She watches how you act around her—how you prevent things from spiraling, how you guide her through situations that could have ended terribly.
She’s not one to let others have control over her life, but she starts to trust you in ways she didn’t expect. She never asks you about the future directly, but when things start to get tense, she’s always looking at you first. You have a way of calming her, of knowing what to do before it even happens.
And, though she’d never admit it, she finds herself leaning on you more. Because you’re the only one who makes the future feel like something she can still control.
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Requests may be sent through the ask box. Only SFW.
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fashion-runways · 2 months ago
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hiii new pinned post again because the last one was outdated, there are links to the previous ones in that one as well. unfortunately there are no real updates re: my dad's wrongful imprisonment. at this point, they might be waiting until the statutes of limitations happen and it's over, i don't know. he has a therapist who's kind of expensive but we have to pay for and he has to go weekly because of all the trauma he has left from being in jail and from losing his job/not being able to find a new one because of this. his health got worse in there, too, so there are a lot of different doctors he has to go to, medications, etc. he's doing better every day, though, but that takes a lot of money of course.
i used to have a redbubble account that helped me get afloat alongside this blog, but it got suspended without notice and never got reinstated no matter how many things i've tried, so... that's another source of income that we lost. i used to make around 30/40 dollars a month there, now i make like 1/2 dollars on teepublic monthly, that's a huge difference. argentina's economy was always bad but it has been an absolute disaster since the current president got elected. prices rise literally on a weekly basis for everything from basic groceries to public transportation, power, water, phone bills, etc. my laptop's keyboard broke at some point and i almost had to buy a new one with money i literally didn't have, just going into negative numbers, but i managed to find a guy who replaced it for as cheap as he could. it was still expensive, but it was better than having to buy a new laptop entirely. would love to get a stable job, but that's always been impossible in this country, even more so lately. for updates on argentina in english, this person on twitter makes very good informative threads if you're interested.
on top of that my dog passed from cancer a few weeks ago, that was really expensive for us too, meds and appointments and special foods and everything that we could do to keep her happy until it was her time to go, and she was. i also started therapy around the time she was diagnosed (thank god) but my therapist had to rise her rates because of the economy mess i already mentioned, so... yeah. everything is exhausting and everything is expensive, and this is literally my only source of income. it's also the thing that i love doing the most and the thing that keeps me sane in all of this mess, so hey, never leaving. in fact, if anything ever happens to this website, you can always find me under fashion_runways on twitter or probably anywhere else. some of you guys mentioned not seeing my posts lately too, so if you can/want to, you can turn notifications on!
anyway yeah, all that to say i love this blog, i love fashion, and i love showing you guys new cool things and giving you guys ideas for art, or writing, or your own style, or just interesting stuff to look at. so if you can donate any money, that would help me more than you think. even a single dollar can change what i can do with my day sometimes, i swear. as usual, my kofi link: https://ko-fi.com/fashionrunways and my teepublic link: https://www.teepublic.com/user/dinah-lance. thanks for being around and sharing and reblogging my posts, thanks for asking questions about fashion, and of course thanks for helping to the ones who can, and thanks to the ones who can't too, i know how that feels like, don't worry about it. i love you 💖
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loveyhoneydovey · 7 months ago
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mechanic ex-boyfriend simon riley
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notes & warnings: the used pictures are only for aesthetic purposes, reader is not physically described in this. AGELESS BLOGS AND MINORS DNI this is an 18+ only blog. a significant age gap between simon & reader is implied but the actual number is never mentioned. if i missed anything please lmk:)
this is a completely unedited little something i wrote at 4am
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reader who never fell out of love mechanic ex-boyfriend simon
you still recommend your ex-boyfriend’s garage to your friends (especially any vulnerable women) because despite your failed relationship, you’ve never met someone as trustworthy and reliable as simon 
you and mechanic simon who met when you’d found a used car you wanted to purchase and wanted to have it independently inspected 
reader who found this older, ruggedly handsome, stoic and yet professional mechanic who seemed to know his shit. despite the terrifying skull design resting next to his shop’s name, you trusted him immediately
not only did he inspect the car for you, but he also helped bring down its price and performed any necessary repairs at a huge discount (he never told you about this, you eventually figured it out on your own)
despite the obvious crush, he was very reluctant to pursue anything with you. not only were you his client and trusted him not to make things weird, but you were also so much younger and he felt like an old dog who was beyond learning any new tricks
you should’ve taken his warning from the beginning as he had predicted the downfall of your relationship before it’d even began
reader whose car has been acting weird for the past couple of months so you begrudgingly take it to simon’s shop
you’d actually tried taking it to some new garage in town, but had a feeling you were being lied to and overcharged when the sleazy mechanic barely spent an hour on it and said it was back like new
mechanic ex-boyfriend simon who doesn’t even need 5 minutes to tell you it’s on its last leg. despite his stoic demeanor, he’s actually concerned by how you’ve been driving such a vehicle in such an unsafe state
mechanic ex-boyfriend simon who starts asking till he finds a car within your budget. one he inspects himself to make sure his baby not anymore doesn’t end up dead in a ditch somewhere because of faulty brakes
the fucker was ready to buy it himself, but knew you’d never accept his money (especially not after the harsh parting words you’d left each other with during your last fight)
mechanic ex-boyfriend simon who’ll never love anyone more than you, but still isn’t willing to repair the broken bond between you two
mechanic ex-boyfriend simon who still uses o’keeffe’s working hands cream every day cause you used to always rub it on his hands, swearing his calloused skin would soon feel like a baby’s butt (and of course you were right). he tries to mimic the way you’d gently work it into his damaged skin as the only thing he had left from you now were memories
mechanic ex-boyfriend simon who never really tries to move on from you despite his apprentice’s attempts to set him up with multiple people (what’s the point of you for something he’s already found) 
mechanic ex-boyfriend simon who went through the army and came out even more damaged after a stint in prison. he believes nothing good will come out of such a sweet thing so full of life being chained to a grumpy old man like him
mechanic ex-boyfriend simon who despite thinking all of that can’t accept the thought of you being with someone other than him
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WHEW the is the first time i've written in YEARS (and i probably won't write anything for another good 5 years fjkdsw). hope you enjoyed this as much as i did!! this au idea has been rotting my brain for the past few days and i just had to let it out. feel free to dm me, leave a comment or send an ask about this au. dividers made by @anitalenia ✨
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dilf-docs · 2 months ago
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Misery Reigns My Lonely Neon Nights
old man!logan x younger fem!reader
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summary: logan should've said no. should've just drove the pretty waitress home. that's his job. hers is to serve his cup of coffee to the brim. so why is he riding you to his house?
warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap (cause we have a small daddy kink going on here.. hence the blog name BUT I DO HAVE A GOOD DAD), smut, this reeks of corruption kink for no reason other than me being a virgin whore, like he gets stalker-ish for a second but its logan howlett so we forgive him<3 ya está viejito, brief mention of suicide, sub logan edging on praising kink (if u squint), no protection but u gotta put the hat on the cowboy to ride the horse alr, riding, breeding kink??? angst (the depressing vibes are there cause they follow my writing like a shadow ijbol)
word count: 33,577 words (at the v crack of dawn.. i think i've gone insane FR it's 02:07 am and my brain its eating itself like im gonna start seeing logan in the corner of my room)
side note: newbie here after reading so many fanfics on tumblr but never publishing my own!! its hugh's birthday (well, its past midnight so no more but still!!! it was a couple hours ago) so i figured i should give it a try today cause that man does things to me ESPECIALLY as old man logan i can't lie and say the thought of him fucking me good and slow hasn't crossed my mind too many times 😩 we love sad hot old people in here so naturally my inaguration fic had to be done by him. also, i'm tired of scrapping for votes, comments, and interactions on wattpad so please treat me well during our first:// it's me moving to tumblr it's me hi i'm the problem it's me. i'm a feedback whore so pls leave tons of those!! also, english isn't my first language so if i make a grammar mistake pls do not tell me bc i have no respect for this language ―it just makes me cringe less to write smut on a language that isn't mine lol<3 but if there's any other mistake yes pls do tell me thank u OKAY BYE i needa quit yapping ENJOY dilf town<3
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So it started something like this.
It was another simple nightshift for Logan. The weather humid, uncomfortably sticking the fabric of his white button shirt onto his skin. Even with the windows down. Those nights that the driving dragged on for long, like those cigarettes that now made him cough more than relax. The roads felt too long; his eyes too heavy.
Nothing new. Just about what to expect: money short, clients and traffic equally annoying. But that was the problem; nothing was new anymore.
He'd just finish dropping a customer close by, and since the tiring feeling didn't seem to leave his body just yet, a coffee wouldn't hurt. As a matter of fact, the need for a boost to make it home makes him get out of the car and limp his way into the first place his tired vision sees.
The rim of his recently adquired reading glasses slips as he climbs the stairs into the decades old diner, the decoration outdated. He understands; he feels the same way.
Neon lights flash his face when he enters the place and sits in the farthest booth he can find. The air is impregnated in grease and cheap coffee, but he waits at least fifty minutes to order, giving his body some time to rest. In the meanwhile, he tries to distract himself with the newspaper resting on the table, but God knows his eyes are too tired and his mind drifts every two words.
He hopes he doesn't get kicked out, judging from the attentive look he's receiving by a waitress resting on the bar. She looks as bored and tired as he does.
Maybe that's why he chooses her, raising his hand with order in mind. A black coffee. The waitress slides from her position and takes some steps to where he sits.
Her voice is sweet when she introduces herself, and Logan finds himself asking her again what her name is, pretending he's half deaf just to listen to it again.
"It's y/n" you repeat, oh so sickeningly sweet, he might have to skip on asking for sugar.
"Y/n" he savours the name on his lips, trying the tender sound, his eyes darting to the name tag, like he's confirming it. Testing to see if the young woman in front of him is real. Maybe his eyes linger a little too long, and the tip of your ears start to heat. Its the way he examines every feature on your face, like memorizing it in a sense, that makes you squirm. But maybe, just maybe, it's the small―brief, peak he gives to your exposed cleavage, pushing itself against the tight fabric of your uniform what truly gets your heart beating fast.
He looks like what your parents would warn you to stay away and your friends would talk behind your back. Rugged in a way that screams heartbreak, rough around edges your kind nature wishes to soften. It's unresonable to feel this way about a client you just met, but his aloof demeanor peaks your interest, so different from your usual costumers and familiar faces that pop up at the diner.
"Can I order you, darling?" his voice comes out deep, almost passing as a grunt. Just what you imagined it to sound. Why he's acting as his past self so effortlessly, after closing himself off to the point of going by entire days without talking more than three words, is concerning. Why the cute waitress who looks at him with doe eyes, expectant to take his order, is making him break the promise he made to himself not to get attached again―just live by enough to make it to the sea and put a bullet in his head.
"Well, that's just about my job" you joke, feeling confident for no reason. "But you can't order me".
"A damn shame" he chuckles, the sound deep, rumbling on his chest. It's been so long since he's laughed like that: carefree, without that pressing weight on his chest, that despite the sinking notion, sometimes feels more like a hole carved where his heart is supposed to be.
"So..." you trail off, unsure where to proceed after that sound that jolted your entire system awake, "what will you take?"
The banter dies, and Logan is dissapointed when she scribbles the dark coffee on her pretty round letter and walks away. He doesn't miss the sway of her hips, and almost calls her back just to hear her voice again. But he stops himself, because it's getting pathetic.
When she returns with her order, he almost regrets the comeback of his enhaced senses, her honeyed perfume mixed with the bitter smell of the freshly brewed coffee, creating an intoxicating mix.
His lips burn when he sips it, but that doesn't stop him from emptying the cup. Again. And again. All in the name for asking for more coffee, a magnetic force pulling him to the ground, making him forget he's a 200 and something year old man begging like a starved man for at least a fraction of her attention. He feels unworthy of your warmth.
He feigns interest on the newspaper when you return again (he's been stuck on the same paragraph ever since he sat down), the pot in your hands. If you've noticed he's emptied the cups faster than a normal person, you don't ask questions. He's thankful, but can see the amusement and confusion laced across your pretty face.
"More?" you ask, but it's unnecesary. He only nods, and you miss the chatter.
The closeness it's a challenge itself, the uniform's neckline practically shoved down his nose while she fills the cup to the brim. He hears his own heartbeat, the sound averting his attention from another "brief" glance at the cleavage. Is it intentional? Is your goodwill and act? Are you this cruel, playing with an old touch starved man like that?
God knows it's been long since he's had a helping hand during his relief hours.
He can't help it; he's a man, after all. So he seizes the moment and steals a glance. But his eyes meet yours, the wary green clashing with the cozy chocolate. There's warmth on your eyes, and he's looking at your tits like an animal. He pulls away, ashamed. The shirt feels a bit suffocating, and there's sweat on his forehead again. Great, you'll think he's a perv.
"Excuse me" you say, leaving his table. Logan is afraid of having fucked it up for thinking with this dick and not with his head. You were messing too much with his head, and now he'll pay the price. Fair, he thinks, for a perverted old man trying to woo a girl younger and far more innocent than him.
There's benevolance on her smile and blood on his hands.
The whole situation is stupid.
But then he's thinking of excuses (like saying it's his failing eyesight's fault) and something close to an apology, as if he cares a little too much about what you think. And then you come back.
"I forgot to bring you a napkin" she lies, leaving the piece of paper in the middle of the table. You laugh, and Logan let's you because 1. He deserves it, and 2. It's a sound as saccharine as the smell the freshly heated pies emit on the table across him.
You leave before he can even open his mouth, so all he's left with is the napkin that seems to have something written on it. Pervert, he reads, on the same calligraphy you scribbled on your bloc. He can't help but laugh, even with your watchful look on him.
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That's how it continued.
Even if he had other rides and more energy to drive, he kept coming to the decaying diner just to see you. Almost as if he was forgetting his desperate need for the money, the boat goal further and further.
"You've forgotten about me" complained Charles, although his tone lacked of bite. "But I'm not mad that you've had".
He'd go on, rambling about living life but Logan just laughed. Yet, maybe he was right. Didn't even need his powers to know it.
Now, you? you simply couldn't get enough of your favorite costumer. Of his late stays until you closed, sometimes not muttering more than necessary, yet his company, even if curt, proved to be what you needed to make it through work, giving you a legitimate reason to yearn the before tedious night shifts.
Despite this two month weird relationship, Logan is as a stranger to you as he was the first day, no matter how many times you've tried to get him to talk. In the end, all your conversation efforts feel more of a monologue than a chat.
He knows about your mom and your dad, one strict the other dead. He knows most of your friends names, what you're studying and what you wanted to. Your dreams and your hopes, your aspirations, failures, and some other things you'd never say to anyone else out loud. All and nothing. And he listens, sometimes asking questions, but never about himself. He never takes the lead.
So frustration from the Logan enigma pours into you, the puzzle pieces layed out over your mind, consuming your thoughts. So now you're stubbornly cleaning the same grease spot on a table you've already wipped before, and that, coincidentally, it's the booth in front of Logan, the permanent resident of your head during these past weeks. You might as well make him start paying rent by now, his power and hold over you ridiculous.
"It's not going anywhere. Take it easy" he mocks you.
There's a bit of annoyance when you reply back, although it's mostly superficial. "Don't know what you're talking about" comes out your dry response, earning a low chuckle from him.
"How about you sit for a moment?" he offers, ignoring your apathy. "You're almost done cleaning up".
If his ever changing attitude isn't enough, closing this night's shift is as tiring.
Logan doesn't expect you to obey, but now you're sitting across from him, and a voice in his head says you maybe feel sorry for this lunatic old man.
You're so close, he can see the eye bags and sorrow you are far tired to try to hide.
"I have to finish cleaning" you explain, "we're about to close".
He doesn't know why he says it, or what takes over him when he says:
"I could wait for you"
He surprises himself and surprises you too.
"No need" you assure, and why does he feel so dissapointed. It's stupid. "My friend picks me up".
Ah, yes. The friend with the perfect stupid smile that picks you up every night. Not like he parks his car until you leave and sees the scene unfold each time, his white knuckle grip on the wheel a bit too much when the young boy opens up your door. Makes him see red, knowing he's your age and maybe the breathe of fresh air you need. Not a man far older, who bears too many sins and scars in and out.
"I see" he says after some minutes in silence, retracting his impulsiveness. "I'm sorry if I made you-"
"No!" you clarify hastily, "it doesn't bother me".
He smiles unconsciously in relief.
"Well, me neither. I insist. If you change your mind" he's practically begging, despite his monotone tone.
But you don't.
The place closes and Logan is forced to get in the car. He lights a cigarette, in no hurry to return home. The lighter lights up while the diner's light goes off. You and your boss come out, biding each other goodbye. She leaves and you're is left alone, hugging your body in the early morning cold. 
He sees you wearing particular clothes, for the first time. He takes a slow drag on his cigarette, eyes running up and down your bare legs, the fragile fabric of the skirt fluttering in the wind. He exhales, watching as you dials your phone several times, getting no response, obviously frustrated.
He mutters something under his breath, and maybe there is a God after all. He starts the car, approaching her, who has already noticed it, probably because of the noise of the engine.
She looks scared, but Logan rolls down the window so she can see it's him.
"Need'a ride?"
Just by his reverberant sound you could accept. But you try to play cool for a while, despite your aching bones and need to get home.
"He doesn't answer" he was right, "my friend".
I know, he wishes to say, but he's the same hot headed asshole who walked through the doors of the X mansion for the first time, so his tone will be laced with irony. He doesn't want you to see him as an intense hot blooded mouth.
I could take you. His head pounds but he shuts the emotions down.
He shoves the knot on his throat down and asks as casually as possible, "do you live close?"
"Just around the corner" you answer. A beat, your frame bending so he can see your face from the driver's sit, the cleavage saying hello again. How considerate of you. "Do you really want to do this?"
Do you really want to do this?
The question rings on his ears. It holds more than just the favor. Logan knows they have a certain tension between them that he no longer wants to ignore. For the first time it seems to be reciprocated; palpable, and he is surprised to hear his heart beating loudly, so accustomed to hearing others' with his sharp senses, constantly forgetting what his own sounds like. Yours also beats erratically, despite your calm composure.
You arch an eyebrow, amused. "I can't believe you waited for me. Your family must be worried."
Logan realizes you're trying to test waters. So he raises his hand discreetly and places it on the door, so you can see the lack of a ring. As expected, your eyes travel to his free finger, and he can swear he sees you breathe with relief, which is funny, because in case you hadn't picked up until now, Logan is very much fucking alone.
"In case you changed your mind," he answers. "I have nowhere else to be."
That is enough of an invitation for you to get in the car.
"I was going to open that door for you" he protests.
You only laugh as you buckle the seatbelt. "It's not that big of a deal, really. You've already done enough for me by doing me the favor".
"It's not that big of a deal" he repeats your words, "as long as I'm of help, that's enough for me".
He smiles wistfully, remembering better times. A part of him still aspires to be that hero everyone loved and remembered, something that clearly doesn't happen anymore (or if it does, it's rare), given the lack of recognition of his former identity in El Paso. He shakes his head, focusing back on the street in front of him. It's too late to get fucking sentimental.
"I like to help too…" you confess, meekly. Logan sighs, how could he not know? "My father used to say that I had the kindest heart he'd ever met. I hope it stays that way, and that when he looks down on me, he's proud".
It hurts Logan to see you be so hard on yourself, as if he didn't do the same.
"I bet all the customers in the place would say you're the sweetest thing they've met", he sees you smile from the corner of his eye, and can't help but emulate it. "Believe me, you're their favorite".
"Thank you, Logan" you say sincerely. However, the affliction that he hates to see crosses your face. So gloomy that you don't even seem the same person.
You wipe away an unexpected tear, but Howlett is faster and notices. You turn around, looking towards the window. Then, you catch a glimpse of his license.
"So… you're a driver" you try to break the silence that Logan has put without knowing why. Maybe to give you some space after being sentimental and opening up again to this closed off wall name Logan, but he knows it's a lie. He's scared. After wanting so much to be closer to you, he cowers, not trusting himself and what he would do trapped in a small space with such an attractive woman. Besides, the tension from the previous conversation was still there.
"You judging me now, honey?" the pet name rolls off his tongue before he catches it. He tries to play it cool, continuing the banter, carrying the same tone. "The only thing necessary to make you trust me was to give you a free ride?
"I'm in your car, Logan. I got in without thinking" you laugh. "I believe that's enough trust"
"Then, I'll keep doing you favors. Maybe if I do…" he trails off.
Your voice drops an octave, provocative. "Maybe what?"
His knuckles grip the steering wheel until they turn white.
"Maybe…" he hesitates, "maybe…"
"It's here" you point out. Shit, Logan curses, braking abruptly without meaning to.
"See you tomorrow" you bid as a goodbye, getting out of the car. Logan misses your smell.
So he sticks his head out the window, like a begging dog.
"How about now?" he says a bit forcefully.
Your face shows surprise and something else.
"You're getting attached" you reply, and he doesn't know why there seems to be sadness in your voice.
"I just keep coming back for the coffee" he defends himself.
You laugh, shaking your head "Now, then. For the coffee, clearly."
"I can leave" he says. Yet, makes no move to leave.
You sigh, giving him one last look. Surrender, he reads.
"You're a driver, right?" he nods, taking in every word coming of your pink plush lips. "Then let's drive off. Anywhere" your voice trails off, and you're just so tired of everything, you'll just let go yourself with the flow. "I'll go wherever you go..."
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And this is how it ends.
When you wake up, it's almost dawn.
Logan had suggested you to sleep, claming the road where he was taking you to be long. He had covered you with his jacket, even if your body was burning from nerves.
Why had you agreed? Your mom would probably smack your head in search for some sense, and your reckless friends would encourage you to do it for the sake of a story. But something about Logan makes you feel safe, despite not knowing anything from him. It's sort of a sense of protection―like he would never hurt you, that envelops him. Everyone else would call you crazy; only you can understand that.
When your eyes adjust to the light, you realize you're in a line of cars.
"Did you bring me to the border?" you exclaim groggily, still in a sleepy voice.
"Good morning" he answers instead.
You rub yoou eyes, settling into the passenger seat.
"You're not going to kidnap me, right?" you question, half joking half serious.
Logan laughs, "Not only that. I'm also going to throw your body in a mass grave"
"It's not funny," you pout, although you're laughing too.
Once you've crossed the border, Logan drives a few more minutes, until he reaches a restricted area.
“I live here” he answers before you can ask, “saves rent and questions”
After opening the locks, you can better appreciate the place. Well, appreciate may not be the right word.
“It's an abandoned smelting plant” you voice out loud.
Logan just nods. You realize that he didn't like the comment, so you try not to talk about it anymore.
“Come” he gets out of the car, going to open your door. He offers you a hand, and you fail to hide your smile.
“You didn't miss this time, huh? Quite a gentleman” you praise. Then, add jokingly, “if you choose to kill me, at least I'll die taken care of".
“Stop talking nonsense and go inside” he scolds but smiles.
Inside, the abandoned plant is exactly what you expected.
"We're alone" Logan says, after leaving to check. He opens the door to his room, letting you in. There's not much inside, just a bed and scattered things. A yellowish light begins to filter through the broken glass. "I'mma change. Be right back".
You begin to explore your surroundings, to avoid thinking about the impact of the situation. Two things could happen: leave or stay. Maybe everything was going too fast, but you prided yourself on your spontaneity, often confused with impulsiveness. Others would say it was your naive nature: too innocent for your own good.
What had led you to accept without further ado? Was trust enough, that you had even fallen asleep in his car?
"S'rry for the wait"
You notice that Logan's gotten rid of his formal attire, leaving him in just slacks and an old white tank top. His muscles flex with every movement, making you swallow involuntarily. He still retains his extraordinary physique, despite his greying hair. She can't help but stare at the scars that cover his exposed skin, her fingers itching to trace them.
"Haven't they told ya' t's rude to stare?"
You look away, embarrassed. Logan walks over to the bed, bumping into you in the process, bodies barely touching. Still, an electric shock runs through you. You hug yourself, scared, aware of the effect he has on you.
"Logan" she dares to ask, "what are we doing?"
He finally looks at you. You feel naked under his intense gaze.
"What do you want us to do?"
His voice comes out low, like a growl. You stand in place stiff, unable to form a word.
"Come on, honey", the nickname comes out of his lips so easily, it hurts. "Are ya losing your voice now? Got into my car a while ago without thinkin', what's changed?"
You slowly approach Logan, each stride calculated. He watches you in silence, a silence as hostile as the wind hitting the broken windows, watching you remove your clothes, until all that's left is your bra and that skimpy skirt, as if you knew he liked it.
"Logan…" you whisper his name like a prayer, letting yourself fall on his legs. He holds you with his hard calloused fingers, like a promise.
Don't let me fall. Don't let me go. Don't leave me.
The habit of loneliness settles in between, and the flame they thought in deep slumber rekindles, burning with their long time unattended needs.
"Use your words, sweet thing" the trepidation condenses between, "we're grown up now, aren't we? Use your words"
If by words he meant feeling your lips against his, it's enough to have Logan following his impulses, using his strength to embrace your body until they feel like one, the scars on his hands feeling like your own. Your lips move in sync, and it's almost so casual, so learned, so meant to be, that fear appears in Logan, soon forgotten with the symphony of moans that come from your lips.
"Tell me" he pauses, breaking away from the kiss (something you don't like and express in the form of a pout), "what do you want?"
Logan tastes like cigars and whiskey, a combination you hate and the reason you quit your old job at the bar, but on his lips, it's an intoxicating taste.
"I want you, Logan" you whisper, hot breath against his skin, “you”.
He resumes the kiss, an electric shock of hunger and need between you: lips parted, colliding, teeth almost clashing against each other.
His fingers hesitate with a delicacy that belies his rough touch, the tips of his worn fingers lifting the fragile cloth of your skirt first, revealing soaking wet panties he goes crazy just at the sight of. The smell is sugary, sicklingly, so now he's hard and pulling at the clasp of your bra first, exposing your nipples, which he rolls and pinches mercilessly. A gasp escapes you—then another, and another as Logan pushes his thigh between your legs. The friction is delicious, almost painful against your pulsing center.
His hand firm up his position, securing itself onyour bare legs as you digs her nails into him. His labored moans turn into a guttural growl.
“You think I’m not capable?” he mocks, stealing another moan from her, “that I can’t keep up with you, you pretty young thing?”
You deny it, but Logan takes it upon himself to show you that he can take you like he's in heat, the ghost of his old self taking over in his almost animal way of fucking you, hips arched, muscles flexed and tense, his teeth appearing every time he opens his mouth, reminding you of fangs. They dig into your exposed skin, leaving bruises that will take time to disappear from your shoulders and neck, marking what belongs to him.
The hardness of his skin meets your soft when he grabs you by the waist.
"Look at you" it slips from his tongue, ecstatic. He's a goner, saliva dripping from the messy and sloppy kisses he leaves through your collarbone, "so good and so pure. I bet you're innocent, that you haven't seen what I've seen..."
His pupils darken, a strange mix between torment and desire in his gaze. Hungry and violent.
"Will you let me show you how's a real man s'ppossed to treat a woman?"
He feels shame settle in his belly, the hunger to possess her almost virgin body fueling his dark desire of errasing her sweet smile until she's an unintelligible mess of sobs. To show her what she would complain about, so she'll never slettle for less. So you can feel what it's to be taken care of―handled. And then he'll fill you up with his seed, so no other man will take what's his. His sweet little thing. Oh, he's so going to hell for this.
But maybe he likes pain.
"That's it, honey" he plays with the fabric of your wet panties, pulling at the loose threads in the delicate fabric. "Let me show you".
You take it off, and Logan lies back against the bed, spreading his legs and unbuttoning his belt and pants―a clear invitation to repeat the previous position, except this time, his hands are on top of your hips, squeezing the soft skin. He doesn't take his eyes off you, his gaze reserved only on you. If the adrenaline from before pushed you, now the confidence gained motions you to finish the task. It's just the push you need, remembering that this is what it feels like to be with a real man as you throw a leg over his hips, sitting your ass right on top of the bulge marked on his underwear.
“Right… there…” he barely manages to formulate a coherent train of words, the years of lack of help in attending to his needs leading to overstimulation, “good girl.”
The compliment makes you increase the pace of your hips, his labored breaths a sound so rich and so manly it makes you squirm.
You need it desperately, rubbing your increasingly wet clit against him, riding the fabric. His scruffy beard barely hides the smug smile that graces his lips.
“Like this?” she whispers, and Logan can no longer contain himself, staring at his sweaty, ripped body failing to please her completely. It feels so good it aches, and he can't believe this is how he's ended. But if that means having your pretty face on top of him, covered in his marks, dripping on your joint sweats, well maybe it isn't so bad.
“How can I repay you, honey?” he pleads. He'll try he's best. He just wants to give you a glimpse of the way his whole world has light up ever since he stumbled in that greasy diner.
“You said you were going to show me” it comes out almost as a purr, expectant, “and I’m waiting”.
Logan takes it as his cue, pulling down his underwear until his member is exposed, chuckling darkly when you swallow at the sight.
"Don't tell me you're scared already" he teases, "look how you have me… you can't leave me like this…"
You stifle a scream as you feel every inch of his thick cock enter your sensible walls, trying to fit his member inside of your needy body.
"So tight for me" he stammers, using his hands to keep you in place, on top of him. The only sound in the silence of that place that smells of death is that of their skin colliding―vulgar, the obscenity highlighted by being the only thing that can be heard in the small room.
Even though his stamina has dropped over the years, he thrusts into you relentlessly. Logan fucks you senseless, his balls buried deep in your dripping pussy, a constant rhythm of avid suction with each entry to your walls.
He takes a moment to see you as you take something from the nighstand he doesn't remember putting there.
"Look what I found" you whisper in the middle of your moans. Logan recognizes the shine of metal in front of his eyes, "so Wolverine?"
You say it so easily, like it's not the first time. With acceptance; it scares him.
Do you recognize him? Are you not scared? Why haven't your eyes go from curiosity and kindness to cold and rejection?
He should panic, rip off his dog tags from your hands and pretend he doesn't know who he used to be, but he's so deep inside you and so enraptured, he can only manage to gently take them from between your fingers and put them around your neck, the cold metal against your warm, bare skin creating an electric shock.
"I want to see them on you"
He likes to watch it hang over his face while you're on top, panting heavily as she repeats his name, slurring her words. It dangles with every thrust, the silver glistens in the seeping sun, just like the sweat that adorns her skin.
"Are you that needy of your old man? " he teases, caressing her. He smacks the curve of his ass, “You want more?”
His veiny length makes quick work of your needy hole, more moans escaping your lips.
“Shit,” you curse, wincing at the pain that begins to increase. “Yes, Logan. Just like that. Nobody ever treated me like that, nobody's made me feel like this-”
He moans, pleased with the praise, seeing he isn't as lacking as he thought. Making you feel good is his priority, but he won't lie and say he doesn't want to feel it too.
In an attempt to distract yourself, your eyes try to focus on him: searching his features, memorizing every scar, every wrinkle, every little grey hair.
“You’re perfect, Logan,” you mumble through a moan, the confession hiding more than you want to say and more than he cares to admit.
Before he can process it though, the fire in his stomach signals the arrival of his impending orgasm.
There's something delightful about the way you can barely speak, a mess of moans that sound like his name, eyes half-lidded and lips swollen alongside your messy hair.
He feels almost sick to be consuming something that doesn't and shouldn't belong to him. He doesn't deserve to have such a beautiful, young woman riding him while she clings to him like he's the last thing in this world, him: a worn, old man who can't keep up with her.
His member spasms, and it's got you feeling it all inside your walls, causing him to close his eyes in the process as well.
It's too soon, Logan thinks in shame, but it's been so long and you feels so good, he let's it go:
Thick whips of his cum shoot out of his member, drawing out more than you would've imagined. You don't have much time to think about it, for the orgasm hits you immediately, fingers curling and eyes rolling to the back of your skull.
Logan feels his tip getting wetter, and the extra lubrication is a nice finishing touch.
“God,” he gasps, “what a mess…”
You avoid looking at him, taking one of his hands in yours, kissing the red and violet painted knuckles. If you do, you'll give away what you feel, the same way her memory burns in Logan's chest, more now than ever, as his mouth tastes just like you.
Dependency.
Devotion. Absolute. Sick.
Maybe that was what he felt. This weird feeling. That abyss piercing his chest but never killing him (so much for regenerating...), pressing his heart with a crushing force whenever it threathened to beat again. Logan was content with rather nothing, always a man who didn't ask for much, and since the death of his family―the X-men, less.
"You should go" he mutters in defeat, the shame washing over. Even if he'll miss your warmth, even if he doesn't want you to leave at all. "It's for your own good, y/n. Pretend you don't know me and turn around. Go away" he insists yet gets stuck on his words, "you're not stupid. Then you'll know it's good for you and you'll never speak to me again"
He looks at the ground, cowardly, because he wants your lust filled warm look to be the last memory he remembers. Not whatever look you're giving him now.
So Logan closes his eyes and counts to ten. When he opens them, you'll be gone. It'll be a dream, something too good to be true. Short lived, like every good thing in his life.
"Logan..." you calls his name. So softly it seems like a breath.
You're still here.
"Logan" you call again, more firmly.
"Logan" you don't give up, cupping with one hand his face gently, "look at me".
When he looks up, he comes across a heartbreaking vision. You cry, tears falling like waterfalls down your cheeks. But that's not the most devastating thing, no: it's the look in your eyes, as if you've shared his pain. As if you've had suffered the same things he had suffered; a twisted reflection of him.
"Of course I understand you" you take his hands, and Logan feels that same strange warmth he felt the first time when your hands brushed his with the diner's menu. "I've also lost people… people I loved. Don't you think it hurts me to see the world go on as if nothing happened? Everyone forgets, Logan. But I can't; there's not a day that goes by when I don't think about them"
For a moment, you stop crying, and the hidden internal turmoil he tried so hard to decipher finally makes sense.
"I don't know what you've been through either, but I can promise you, that I understand you more than you think…" it seems like you'll say something else, but you stop and say instead. "Think, Lo: would these people want to see you like this?"
"It's what I deserve" he murmurs barely, his voice constipated but without shedding a single tear.
"It's not what we want, Logan. Please" you sniff, pained "stop being so hard on yourself".
"I'm not who you think I am" he insists. You're still naked on his bed, and he feels dirty for having you like this. For taking you to his home and fucking you raw out of your innocence. "I'm not a good person."
"No, Logan" you seem hurt by that statement. You trace one of his most recent scars with a touch so compassionate, that he feels your fingertips burn, "you are a hero".
Your words were so sweet, so comforting. He wanted to sink into your lap, which smelled like flowers and tasted like safety. A home; a life that had been taken from him. He wanted to believe everything you said―feel who you believed he was. Not this pathetic, tired and apathetic version of himself, but the old version: the version that inspired respect, that despite his tough exterior, had a family he loved. Because he had a heart. Now he feels like he has no soul: no purpose, nothing.
But maybe you are the answer.
Before he can change his mind, you blurt out “can I stay?”
That morning, in that old bed that creaks under his weight, Logan discovers that feeling alive again isn't so bad.
236 notes · View notes
bluesidez · 5 months ago
Note
AHH CMON REQUESTS!! I know the inbox is flooded girl omg.
okay so as a request, i would really love to see a story where black, plus size reader and Miguel take on wedding planning. Reader is happy enjoying cake tastings, dress shopping, venue hunting etc. and groomzilla!miguel is trying to make everything perfect for her. It can be nsfw, but I trust you with whatever the vibe is! Love you down!! ✨✨✨✨
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["It’s My Wife’s Day!"]
lab tester: @leoeloo 🩻
pairing: Miguel O’Hara x fem!Reader, black!Reader, PlusSize!reader
summary: No one is going to stop Miguel's fiancé from having the best day of her life, not if Miguel has anything to do with it.
content warning: AAVE (YAY!), sorry to anyone named Elana or Finley, Miguel gets a little mean here (I tried to keep it reasonable but he’s giving Libra Diva DOWN), mentions of food, some cultural (traditional) things from both sides but nothing crazy, there is one scene that could be triggering for my fellow big girls (but it's handled with care I promise), 18+ at the end so MDNI, it's also pretty suggestive throughout
word count: 8,888k EXACTLY (there should be no mistakes for as long as I've been working on it....but hey)
a/n: AHHHH! I was so happy to receive this request! (You have also been very sweet to me since my very first fic and I really appreciate that!!!) I said on my blog that I really love all things weddings, so this was a super fun write. I just love imagining Miguel in this position of making sure that his girl has everything while the girl is in complete bliss. (The mom here was also heavily inspired by my own mom who is much more active than I am in terms of telling people off.) As per our DMs, I did sprinkle in a little GR!Mig mannerisms! And! I added him being super in love with reader…but that’s a given. I do hope you enjoy! Also, I LOVE YOU!
Miguel refers to reader as his wife constantly before they’re actually married.
Also a headcanon for Miguel here that isn’t said explicitly is that his Libra trait of indecisiveness is on at all times. 
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Miguel could never forget the day you set his heart ablaze when you said those destined words:
“Yes! Of course I’ll marry you!”
He was over the moon. Weeks of him getting you to warm up to him, months of him chasing after you, years of him trying to show you that he’s the right one for you, and finally, your hand was adorned in the rock he’s been planning for you for eons. You were truly his lady, now and forever. 
The proposal was quiet and intimate, mostly because Miguel was a bit fearful you would say no, a seed of doubt growing the longer he waited. He steadily reminded you to get your nails done and paid for your hair appointments every now and then. Each time he thought he could do it, he chickened out. 
Then, one night under the stars after an unnecessary work event, his feelings just overloaded. 
You were so ethereal.
He remembers you laughing over something his drunk coworker had said, eyes sparkling as you retold the story. Your curls were parted to the side, earrings dangling past your jaw. Your legs were swinging over the edge of his trunk, not a care in the world as you talked with vigor. 
He thought that he couldn’t live without this. He couldn’t have a life without small moments like this with you. He couldn’t imagine a moment where you weren’t by his side. 
So, the words spilled out of him like water. He took your hands in his and poured his heart out. Finally, the ring box that had practically melted a shape into his thigh was being freed. 
You cried when you noticed what he was doing, emotions doing a complete 180. 
“No wonder you kept giving me extra money for my nails,” you let out a watery laugh as you leaned into him. 
Now, here you both were, almost a year later in the middle of wedding planning. 
The theme and colors were carefully handpicked, the venue was booked, and almost every week, the two of you had something to look forward to. 
Miguel was currently prepping ingredients for tonight’s dinner, listening as you chatted about your great wedding dress search of the day. 
“We stopped by one store, but the lady behind the desk immediately turned us down. I didn’t want to ruin such a good vibe, so I left it at that. Ma was ready to hurt her though.”
Miguel felt his nerves tighten at the news, “What?”
“Yeah, as soon as me and my entourage walked in, she ran up to us saying something about a short stock, but we knew she was lying-”
“What’s the name?”
You raise your eyebrows at his abruptness. 
“Miggy, it’s really ok. Don’t worry over this,” you got closer to him, taking his face into your hand. 
“I’m not. What’s the name?”
You pull his face down to yours, “Nuh uh. I’m not giving you the name. We said we weren’t going to be stressed out over this process, remember?” 
Miguel closed his eyes and brought his hands down your body, leaning his forehead against yours, “I remember.” He blew out a breath and squeezed your ass in hopes that it would help calm him down. 
“Good. Now, you stay right here and I’ll go get ready for dinner. I wanna tell you about this poor girl whose dad didn’t like a single thing she put on.”
You kiss him three times, the last kiss lingering a little longer with Miguel humming into your lips and lean back with a warm smile. Miguel’s hands clinged to you until you were too far to reach and you walked upstairs to change into your house clothes. 
Miguel stood next to the island, tapping his fingers against the granite with a tongue poking into his cheek. 
The dress shopping process was the one he was the least involved in, opting to be surprised on the day you walked down the aisle. You wouldn’t even let his family pitch in for the dress, saying something about running up your dad’s pockets. 
But how does a dress shop conveniently run out of dresses once his fiancé walks in?
Right as Miguel was considering googling every dress shop in the area, his phone buzzed to life. 
Just the person he wanted to hear from.
“Hello?” Miguel turned to toss some butter on a skillet, holding the phone between his shoulder and his ear.
“Miguel…”
He stopped in his tracks, knowing the exact tone of voice your mother was using. 
“What happened?”
“Today was so beautiful!”
“But?”
“But that one shop on James Street? Terrible.”
Miguel would have usually chuckled at the dramatics, but this situation was no laughing matter to him.  
“You should have seen the way the people in there turned they nose up at us! One lady was about to jump out of her skin. All of this for some of the ugliest dresses I’ve ever seen in my life.”
Miguel shifted his position and stood up straight, tossing minced garlic in the sizzling butter, “Did they say anything to you?” His hands were gripping the phone enough to leave indents on his skin.
“Other than telling us how she wouldn’t have anything we would like, no. She didn’t even want us taking a seat in the lobby.”
He moved to grab a pen and a notepad from the drawer, “Do you have the name of the shop?”
“Lady Love. They should call it Lady A Lie.”
Miguel smiled, thankful that he could count on his future mother-in-law to be his partner in crime specifically when it came to making sure that no one brought harm to you. The number one thing that he and your mom had in common was their need to spring into action.
“Thank you. She didn’t want to tell me anything.”
“Trust me, if she hadn’t begged me not to act a fool, I would have cussed that heifer out. She was so nasty and so rude. That ol’ cow.”
“They’ll have a notice from my lawyer by the morning.”
Your mother hummed, “Let me get my iPad out and get to rating they store. It was a bleach blonde butched buffoon named Elana at the front desk. She was the one giving my baby a hard time. Nobody in there was trying to stop her either.”
“I’ll remember that,” Miguel could hear you coming down the stairs, fuzzy slides creating a steady tempo against the floor. “Let me call you back later.”
“She must be coming back. Tell her to bring me back my shoes!”
Miguel chuckled, “Yes ma’am.”
You came up behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist. 
“Was that Ma?”
“Yeah,” Miguel reached to place some chicken on the hot skillet, satisfied with the simmered ingredients he added. “She said to give her those shoes back.”
“She’ll get them back! I’m using them right now. What else were you two talking about?”
Miguel turns down the boil of the pasta noodles, shoulders tensing, “She was telling me about Lady Love.”
You clicked your teeth, “I thought I told you not to worry about it.”
“I’m not!” He turned the chicken over while you grumbled into his back. “But she called me with very upsetting news. What am I but a good son? I had to listen.”
“You two are gonna work my nerves.”
“Don’t say that. We’re just not going to sit back and let someone disrespect you like that. What kind of man would I be if I just let somebody not treat you right and I have the means to stop it? So, please. Let me do this.”
You huffed and buried your face into his back, fingers pressing into his skin. His words shut you up. 
“Fine.” 
“Thank you, cariño. Now, can you get the salad and the wine out of the fridge? This is almost ready.”
“What are you making?”
“Marry Me Chicken and Pasta.”
“So funny.”
“Ah, I know. It must really work, huh?”
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Miguel walked hand-in-hand with you down the fancy boutiques in the shopping district. 
You both had just gotten done wandering aimlessly as you waited for the cake-tasting appointment. Miguel had to be stopped multiple times from buying everything you complimented. 
He was extremely happy to see you giddy about the cake tasting. It was something you’ve been looking forward to since the day you both confirmed a wedding date. 
He’s studied your Pinterest boards heavily, the notifications dinging with every pin. He knows you want to go all out for the cake. Something large enough to feed both of your huge families and something grand enough to match the venue and the theme. 
He arranged for the best of the best to be trying out today and if that didn’t work, he’ll seek someone else. He’ll even bake the cake if he has to, although you’d push him out of the kitchen.
“I hope they have that Biscoff flavor. I heard it was really good,” you turn to him with a hopeful smile. 
Miguel smiled back at you, “I’m sure they will.”
He only lets go of your hand to hold the door open for you, eyes enjoying the view of your body in the flowy dress you were wearing. Earlier, he couldn’t stop kissing over the deep Queen Anne neckline of it, claiming that you smelled too good. You two almost didn’t make it out of the house on time.
“Hello! Welcome in!”
The bakery was bright and homey. The desserts on display were placed on light peach stands and risers and the smell of caramel and cinnamon was strong in the air. Square canvases covered the walls with cute paintings of some of the featured desserts.
“Miguel, look!”
You pull him over to some Miffy-shaped buns filled with different flavored custards. 
“That is too adorable to even eat.”
“But I do hope you’d still be willing to give it a taste!”
You both look up to the friendly face behind the counter. They were a lanky figure with a glitter tattoo of a unicorn cupcake planted on their arm and pink gauges in their ears 
“You two must be the future Mr. & Mrs. O’Hara. Lovely to meet you all.”
“It’s a pleasure to be here,” Miguel reached his hand out to give a firm shake. 
“My name is Finley and I’ll be assisting you all today. We have several beautiful flavors for you to try.”
Finely directed you both to a square table booth in the corner of the bakery. Miguel slid next to your right side in order to wrap his arm around with one hand and eat with the other. 
“Other than the standard Chocolate, Vanilla, Strawberry & Cream, Red Velvet, Marble, and ‘Wedding Cake’ flavors that we offer, the samples for you here include Tiramisu, Passionfruit, White Chocolate Raspberry, Lemon Blueberry, Cookies & Cream, aaaand Dulce de Leche!”
Miguel’s eyebrows went up, feeling skeptical but open. 
“Woah,” your eyes grew at the neat display of confections before you. “I’m so excited.”
 “I’ll be right over here if you guys need me. Enjoy!”
You picked up a fork and dug straight into the Strawberries & Cream.
“That is so freaking good,” you groan out, eyebrows scrunching. 
“Let me see,” Miguel turned to you with his mouth open, eyes full of mirth.
“Miguel, please.”
“What? It’s practice for the real deal.”
“When we’re the only ones in here?”
“It’s going to feel like an intimate moment just between us, no?”
You sigh, defeated. He doesn’t even budge when you shove a giant piece of cake in his mouth. He grabs your hand before you can retreat, licking slowly away at the leftover cream. 
He focuses on the golden fork, working in between the prongs. Time slows down as you watch the white icing disappear into his mouth. His eyelashes are long and pretty and his lips are plump and a little wet from his tongue. 
One more pass of the fork through his mouth and he’s looking up at you with the same fire from this morning. 
You clear your throat, “Is that how you’re going to eat the cake?”
“Something like that.”
You two slowly but surely make it through the rest of the flavors with you trying to stay unflustered and Miguel trying to up the ante. 
He’s grinning and chuckling at your ruffled state until you get to the Dulce de Leche cake. He harrumphs as you cut into it. 
“No, no, you wanna eat cake so bad, so eat it!”
“This isn’t the cake I was talking about-”
“I’m going to shove this fork so far down your throat if you even think of finishing those thoughts out loud.”
 “You know I love it when you get that way,” Miguel sighs and reaches to eat from the fork before you can say anything back. 
You wait in silence as you watch his face contort from disgusted to neutral to pleased. 
“It’s not that bad.”
“Yeah?”
“A little too sweet. Abuela wouldn’t like it.”
“Do you like it, though?”
He paused as he watched you take a bite. 
“Maybe.”
“Would you like it as our wedding cake?”
“No….”
You smirked at him, “But you want it as your groom’s cake?”
“…Yes.”
He looks so conflicted about it that you almost feel bad for him.
“Miguel it’s ok if you like it, no one is going hurt you. You know you have a sweet tooth.”
“It is really delicious, like eerily so. It’s not my favorite cake, though.”
“Oh? Was it the Cookies & Cream one?”
“Close.”
You look around the plate, confused as to how fruit flavors have anything to do with sandwich cookies. 
Miguel got closer to your ear, lips grazing the top, “My favorite is you.”
You push his face back with your hand while he grins into your palm. 
“I see you two lovebirds are enjoying everything,” Finley walks back over to the two of you. “Any standouts?”
Miguel lists off the ones you were enjoying the most with ease. 
“We also enjoyed this Dulce de Leche one but we decided it would be best for my cake but before we move on, do you have any Biscoff cake samples that we can try?”
“Of course, let me go get that for you.”
He looks back at you cheesing at him.
“You remembered!”
“Always.” 
Finley comes back with a small Biscoff bundt cake. 
“Now, unfortunately, we don’t offer this flavor for any tiered cakes.”
You took a bite and almost soared. The flavors were just the right mix of salty and sweet, some caramel coating the top. 
Miguel looked from you to Finley, “Can you just do it for one tier?”
“Um, I can ask my boss when she comes back-”
“You can leave her number with me. I would really love to talk with her face-to-face.”
“Y-yes sir.”
“Good,” Miguel reaches over to wipe some salt off of your lips. “My wife wants a pretty grand cake and she has some particular ideas. We want to be really involved in the process for the best result. No surprises.”
“Absolutely. Would you still want to place that order for the groom cake? We have a sale on toppers for them right now.”
They place a pamphlet on the counter with countless toppers of grooms in pure agony. Some are being dragged by their wives and others are running away. Miguel turns his lip up and moves his eyes to Finely without lifting his head up. 
“These are very tacky and senseless, so no. We’ll place the order for it at the same time as the main cake.”
Finely moves to remove the pamphlet, face red and eyes wet, “I apologize. A lot of the future husbands enjoy them.”
“Do I look like the other husbands that come through here?”
“N-no sir! Not at all.”
“Tell you what, give me your boss’s number and your business card. We’ll circle back. Thank you for today’s tasting.”
“L-let me at least give you some extra dessert before you leave. Free of charge!”
Miguel helps you stand as Finley hops around the store grabbing any and everything. 
“I really hope you consider choosing us for the wedding.”
“The wedding?”
“Your! Your wedding!”
“Hmph.”
Miguel grabs the box from Finley’s shaking hands and promptly leaves the store with you on his arm. You turn back to Finley with an apologetic look and a quiet sorry leaving your lips, though you’re sure they’re still shocked by Miguel’s behavior. 
“I’m going to set up more appointments. We need a backup cake,” he says as he guides you back to the car. 
“You loved those cakes and you scared that poor person to death.”
“Yeah, but it’s not just me eating these cakes. And those were some of the most horrible toppers I’ve seen yet. Who does that?” 
“You would be shocked to know that not every man is willing to celebrate and proudly love their partner.”
Miguel turned the car on and let the cool AC hit his face. 
“But, if you still want to look at more bakeries, we can. More cake for me.”
You turn his face to yours and kiss his lips gently. 
“Now what’s all this about eating me-flavored cake?”
He shifts the gear into reverse, “Let’s get home and you’ll find out.”
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When you said you wanted creative and unique pre-wedding photoshoots, Miguel didn’t hesitate to make sure he could pull it together for you. Now he’s starting to regret it. 
You walked out into the studio apartment with an oversized button-down that looked like it could be his, some thigh-high stockings squeezing at your thick thighs, and some black lingerie peeking through the thin shirt material. Your makeup was simple but jaw-dropping with glossy lips and a lovely blush that brought out a glow to your skin. Your hair was in a blowout style, curls bouncing with every step closer to him.
This specific photographer that you had mentioned in awed passing was known for her eye for romantic detail. Her pictures truly captured the love between couples in raw form. When you showed Miguel the pictures on her website, he was quick to get in touch with her to set up a decent amount of photoshoots. What he didn’t expect was for her to have an influx of assistants and protégés to have wandering eyes. 
“Are you going to move the lights or are you going to keep gawking at my wife like an idiot?” 
The one assistant who clearly didn’t understand what Miguel’s death stares meant jumped at his voice and rushed to move things within the set, the entire back of his neck beet-red. 
“Baby, don’t be like that, he might just be nervous,” you slid your hands up his chest, straightening out his “work” shirt. “Don’t fuss at him.”
 “He should do his job then,” Miguel shifted his gaze from the scrambling boy to you, voice getting quieter as he peered down at your excited face. “You do look beautiful, though. Can’t blame him.”
“You like it?” There was a spark in your eye. It was something that Miguel knew all too well.
He glided his fingers down your back, feeling the heat of your skin through the shirt. Your eyes never left his lips as he drew closer. You could feel his breath covering your skin.
The flash of a strobe light caused you to jump.
“These are going to make such stunning outtakes,” Xina gasped as she moved her camera back up to her face again. “Sorry to scare you. Please continue this and we can do the original plan in a second.”
You laughed as Miguel pulled you even closer, pressing kisses against your neck to avoid ruining your makeup. 
The original idea of the shoot was to have Miguel look like he’s coming home from work and walking in on you dancing around in his clothes. The idea was cute, domestic, a little sexy, and true to life. While it wasn’t the set of photos going out with your wedding invitations, it was something fun for your socials. 
As the scene played out, Miguel didn’t expect you to open up your shirt even more as he came back through the entryway. It made for a nice expression when he looked up to see you passionately dancing around the couch. 
You urged him toward you with your finger, hips moving to the music blasting over the speakers Xina had behind the equipment. Miguel grinned and headed your way. 
With Xina’s direction, the both of you were able to get out lively photos as if it were just a normal day in the soon-to-be O’Hara home. 
By the time you all were finished, Miguel was only in a tucked-in tank top with his hair tossed and turned. You still looked perfect on his lap, grinning down at him as he mischievously bit his loose necktie that you placed on your shoulders.
“Perfect!” Xina smiled behind the camera. “Now, one little thing I like to do at the end of each shoot is have the couple face me with their faces together for one final picture.”
You kiss Miguel on the corner of his mouth and lay his tie on top of his head before turning to Xina. Miguel follows with a lazy grin on his face.
It would have all been so well if that same assistant wasn’t still staring at you like he’s never seen a beautiful woman before when Xina started to wrap up. 
He met Miguel’s eyes and almost turned blue in the face trying to look busy.
There were so many more photoshoots to go in the near future. He’s not sure how he’ll make it through the next ones without making a scene. 
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“Miguel! The invitation samples are here,” you knocked on his office door, giddy with excitement.
Miguel rolls back from his desk, glasses perched on his nose, “C’mon, let me see.”
You stride eagerly to his seat and he’s waiting with the same energy, pulling you into his lap once you’re within arms reach. You make a noise of excitement as run your finger under the envelope flap. Miguel leans his head on your shoulder waiting to finally see the design you so meticulously planned. 
You slid the cardstock out, gasping as you saw the paperdoll drawings of you and Miguel on the page. The artists did a fantastic job of designing you both in such a stylistic, yet recognizable way. 
“Oh my god, look at the little outfits!”
You panned through the cut-out clothes, one with you all’s work outfits, another with casual outfits, and the last one with a wedding dress and a tux. You brought the papers up to cover your mouth as you laughed again. Miguel’s heart soared at the charming way you reacted. 
“Look! They even captured your cute nose right!”
“You love my nose, huh?”
“Stop,” you snicker as you pull out the last picture. It’s one from a more recent photoshoot with you both in formal, dressy attire with scissors and measuring tapes in your hands and paper hearts everywhere to match the paperdoll invitation. 
Miguel took the invitations from your hands, wanting to get a better look. It really was one of a kind, something you both would be able to look back fondly at. 
He ran his thumb across the words, really taking in the fact that you’ll be walking down the aisle right into his arms. He read the words once more. 
Save the date…
2025…
Miguel &…
“How the hell did they spell your name wrong?”
You looked up from the picture in your hand with a frown, “What?”
“We waited this long for samples and they spell your name fucking wrong.”
You read over the invitation again and let out a groan, “Of course. Let me call the company-”
“I’ll do it.”
“Are you sure? You looked busy when I knocked, I don’t want you to get sidetracked.”
“Making sure that my wife’s name is spelled correctly on our wedding invitations isn’t getting sidetracked. I’ll handle it.”
You felt your shoulders drop, a tension you didn’t realize you were carrying releasing from your body. 
“Thank you so much, baby,” you sent him the number with a small smile on your face. 
Miguel gave your lips a peck, “Anything for you. Don’t worry your head about it.”
You stood up to leave, but not before he gave your thighs a squeeze. 
When he was sure you rounded the corner, he immediately pressed the number, blowing slowly through his mouth. 
He was about to work his way to free invitations and a year's worth of service once he was finished. 
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Miguel laughed at the video you sent him. You were practically glowing with the turquoise waves in the background and braids in your hair. A giant plumeria was tucked behind your ear and you held a big fruity drink in your hand. 
You were out on your bachelorette’s trip, enjoying the waves in the sand as you caught up with your bridesmaids. He hadn’t seen any annoyed texts yet, so he assumed that the trip was not falling to pieces. 
He could hear your friends in the background bickering about how they had to take your phone away sometimes to stop you from texting him. 
“She got a few more months of being a hoe!”
“Will you shut up?! I’m making a video.”
“It’s true, though! We’re about to go get drunk as fuck. Don’t worry, Miguel, we got her!”
You just rolled your eyes and smiled at their antics before the video ends.
The mood of the video contrasted your texts entirely. They really did get you drunk.
“i miss you alreadyyyyyy”
“I miss you too but you need to have fun”
“I’ll see you soon. I’ll be waiting for you at the airport in just a few days.”
“good”
“you better be waiting for me”
“i wont you”
“shit”
“want you”
“you and your dick”
“gonna sing to him”
“Him?”
“yeah him”
“he’s mine”
“gonna love on him”
“and you”
“miss you so baaaaad”
“the bed is empty without you :((((“
“I hope you remember all of this when you see me baby”
“my name is mrssss oharaaaa”
“idk who baby is”
“Ok well Mrs. O’Hara you need to go to sleep”
“i will go to sleep mr ohara”
“gonna dream of you”
“and my big dick”
“You do that”
“Send me a pic when you wake up”
The night could have ended perfectly. He knew you had fun and crashed safely in your room. There were no problems with the resort or the reservations. You were constantly flooding his phone with pictures without talking because of the “No Miguel” rule he was sure your friends set. 
Miguel wanted to close his eyes in peace. 
So when his assistant sent him the picture of one of the most crucial parts of your wedding, he could feel his neck tightening. He called Ben instantly.
“What the fuck am I looking at?”
“The broom! They had a lot of them at the store but this one was plain and white, so I feel like it’s perfect for the wedding.”
Miguel pinched his forehead in an attempt to keep his eyebrows from molding together, “Do you have a schedule for when you’re this stupid, or is it only reserved for me?”
Ben was silent for a second, “I don’t understand, I thought you said you needed a broom? Is that not what this is?”
“A broom to jump over Reily. For weddings. I told you to check with Jess about it because I knew you weren’t going to have the slightest idea what I was talking about. Imagine if I brought this home to my wife. She would be offended.”
“W-what’s the difference?”
He might find out the difference once Miguel hits him over the head with it. 
“I’m going to fire you.” 
Miguel wasn’t really. He was just so tired. 
“Return the broom. I’ll take care of this in the morning.”
Ben was stuttering and blubbering as Miguel smacked the red button. He needed to look at the pictures you sent again. He didn’t need to fall asleep in such a bad mood. 
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Miguel was certain that if he were a celebrity, this would be the wedding of the century with the way the bill was racking up. 
Not that it really mattered, because it was his wife’s day. Anything you wanted, he was going to get it. 
You both agreed on a buffet-style dinner for the reception with different stations and servers to accommodate your huge families. 
Currently, you both were tasting the traditional foods that the caterer had to offer and it was looking less than desirable. 
The greens were a bit bland, the catfish was ok, and the mac & cheese was delicious. 
The pork was a bit dry, the wedding cookies could have been better, and the mole was missing something. 
“I think,” Miguel pushed his food around the plate. “It’s missing banana.”
“Really? I’ve never thought to add that before.”
“For future reference, it’ll really make the difference.”
You wiped your fingers above the plate, “I think this might be a sign to leave the traditional stuff to our dessert table. Some of these are great but I’m sure both of our families will be up in arms with complaints. And maybe this is for the better! Tradition is too on the nose.”
Miguel admires your positivity because this is probably the sixth caterer you both have tested out. 
“We know you’re popular from your page, so what is it that you’re most confident in?”
The woman before you all smiled, “Since you're both looking for a pretty ambitious spread, I think things like a pizza bar or build-your-own stations should be the way to go.”
Through another round of dishes, you and Miguel were amazed by the specialties that the chef had to offer from the customization to the endless amount of options.
After a long Q&A trial between the chef and Miguel:
“Do you have simpler options for the kiddos?”
“Is it possible to do this station and this station right next to each other?”
“Should I hire more help for you?”
“Do you sell this mac & cheese separately?”
“Can you try this mole one more time?”
You both settled on five different stations with food ranging from BBQ to fries to candy. No one will be able to say that they went home hungry.
“Are you satisfied?” you rub Miguel’s chest on the way out to the car.
“Completely. I think it’s going to be great.”
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The big day was getting closer and closer with finalizations being made and arrangements galore. The cake flavors were chosen, your dress was being edited to perfection, makeup and hair appointments were already made, and Miguel’s suit was tailored like no other. The bridesmaids and groomsmen were all fitted, especially after Miguel’s constant trips to Lyla’s shop. He was there for nearly every snip, tuck, and seam.
The time was really winding down and you both could really feel that as you walked into the reception venue. 
Miguel woke up that day to a phone call claiming that the venue had been overbooked and was seeking him out to cancel his event. He’s never called people faster in his life. The threats that were made was not something he was proud of, but he’s glad he didn’t wake you up.
Now he has the pleasure of watching you glide around the tables in awe.
“Miguel! Look at the plates! The silverware! The centerpieces!”
It truly was magical watching your vision come to light. 
Miguel followed after you with a grin painting his lips, checking every table for faults. The wedding planner was also next to him, waiting with bated breath for direction from Miguel.
“This should be here,” Miguel pointed to a lone party favor in the middle of a plate.
The planner moves it with ease, used to Miguel’s demands at this point in the process. 
Miguel kept walking towards the tables closest to where you and he would be sitting. 
“I thought I said that these two weren’t supposed to be next to each other? We don’t have time for arguments that night,” Miguel picks up two placeholders. “I don’t want to have to carry our aunts out of here myself. Fix it.”
The wedding planner grabbed them and made a note on their clipboard.
“And where’s the centerpiece for our table?” Miguel checks his watch. “It was supposed to be here yesterday.”
“There was a delay in the flowers. They were the wrong shade, remember? They should be here first thing tomorrow morning, and we’ll have the final touches to it.”
“And you’ll have the pictures sent to me?”
“Of course.”
“Miguel!” you were on the other side of the hall by the dessert table. “The lights over here are shaped like hearts! How cute is that!”
Miguel’s arms unfolded, demeanor shifting as he watched you get excited by the different labels. His chest rose up and the scowl on his mouth disappeared. 
“You really love her.”
“Yeah. Yeah, I do.”
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“This is a toast to everyone who has been with us on this long, long journey.”
Your closest friends and family laughed at Miguel’s words. 
Who’s to say that Miguel essentially blacked out making sure that everyone walked down the aisle correctly just a few hours earlier? No one brave enough to bring it to his face.
“You guys have been here from the start. From the moment I decided to pursue this angel of a woman, you guys were right there cheering me on. Now we’re here years later about to take on one of the biggest days of our lives.”
The table was a mix of happiness and nostalgia, excitement and fondness.
“I can’t thank you all enough for being a part of our bridal party. I can’t even thank you guys enough for encouraging us as a couple. The love in this room truly knows no bounds.’
Miguel lifts his glass up with one hand and squeezes your hand with another.
“So here’s to the present and the future. To family and friends. To us, your future O’Hara’s.”
The table clinks their glasses together with a cheer, watching as Miguel kisses you with so much adoration. 
Tomorrow was going to be whimsical.
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Today was starting out obnoxious. 
Anything that could go wrong was going wrong for Miguel.
First, woke up almost an hour late due to playing stupid games all night with his groomsmen. He would have preferred one my night with you before the “I do’s,” but apparently that was bad luck. Instead, he got an extensive game night with a couple of beers. Nothing to have him over the edge, but definitely something to make him feel like he was in college again.
Second, he couldn’t find his cufflinks that he had made specifically for this day. They were custom with your initials and your birthstone on them. The room looked like a whirlwind after he searched top to bottom only for Gabriel to have them the whole time and tell him almost forty minutes later. 
He wanted to strangle him.
“Miguel, I have the rings too. There’s no way you think that Peter B. is a better ringkeeper than I am.”
“If you lose them, I swear to god I’m going to-”
“Yeah, yeah. Death, Grim Ripper, stabbing, big whoop. Go calm down.”
Third, for some reason, Peter B. had Mayday in the hotel suite when the only children that were supposed to hit the aisle were his niece and your nephew. 
“Why is that baby here?” Miguel tried to keep his voice level because it’s not Mayday who ran in here, it was Peter who’s constantly doing what he wanted. She was walking around and chatting with the groomsmen who were kind enough to keep up her conversations. Four-year-olds had a lot to say.
“Ah, she’s just here until her grandma comes by to pick her up!”
“Peter, if I pass out before I see my wife today, you’re going to be the first reason.”
Lastly, when everything was finally settled and he was ready to go to the ceremony venue, Gabriel came running in and almost gave Miguel a heart attack. Something about you and crying and Miguel almost broke the door down trying to get out.
“Miguel, don’t look at her!” Gabriel ran after him as he made his way to your suite.
“I’m not, damn it, I just need to make sure she’s ok.”
He was on your floor in a flash, your friends waiting outside the door. 
“Where is she?”
“She’s inside. We calmed her down for the most part, but her aunt got up here somehow and started to talk shit.”
“Miguel, if Jess and her mom weren't able to remove her, it would have been bad. She kept saying things about how you’re being tricked. She kept telling her that she wasn’t worthy enough to be a bride.”
“What?” Miguel walked towards the door. “Let me in.”
“Let us make sure you can’t see her, first.”
“I really don’t give a-”
“Miguel.”
He turned to Gabriel who pushed his hands down in a pressing motion, “Ya relájate, yeah? She’s not going to be centered if you aren’t centered.” 
With that in mind, Miguel waited at the door until he was allowed in. Your friends said you were in the bathroom with the door cracked. He walked over and turned his back to the door, tapping in a light rhythm so as not to startle you.
“You ok, baby?”
He could hear your sniffles and it took everything within him not to take the hinges off the door just to get to you. 
“No, not really. I, I’m terrified.”
“Honestly, me too.”
The door moved a bit, and your voice sounded closer, “What if I’m not the woman you need?
He scoffed, “And what if I’m not the man you need?”
You were quiet for just a moment, “You are more than what any man has ever been for me. I don’t think there’s been even a day where I could fix my lips to say that I haven’t felt your love and your heart. You’re…you’re everything to me.”
“So how do you think I feel when someone has convinced you that you aren’t enough for me?” Miguel turned his head to the crack. “No woman has opened my eyes like you have. No person has stolen my heart and cared for it the way that you have. I can’t even begin to describe the ways in which you’ve changed me for the better. You are my world.”
“Miguel,” your voice was watery as you took a deep breath. 
“If you want to call this entire thing off and go to the Justice of the Peace, that’s fine with me. We can send our family straight to the reception. I don’t care, as long as I have you.”
“No, I want to still have this ceremony. I still want to present our love. I’m just overwhelmed right now.”
Miguel moves to slide his wrist through the door, “Give me your hand.”
You laugh as you take his hand in yours, careful not to lean on the door and smoosh it.
“You are worthy to me and this is only a new chapter in the foundation that we’ve built. No jealous aunt nor any other family member is taking what we have away. I chose you, you chose me, ok?”
“Ok,” you squeeze his hand as rubs the top of yours with his thumb. “I love you.”
“I love you more.”
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Miguel’s heart was hammering in his chest like a hummingbird fluttering around nectar.
He stood at the end of the aisle with his one hand grasping one wrist and a knot in his throat. The seats were filled with waiting people, but he didn't think anyone was more ready than him. Gabriel had patted him on the back once he was down the aisle, now he stood with his daughter at his side making sure Miguel really didn’t pass out.
Miguel’s tunnel vision shifted as everyone got up to watch you come around the corner. Miguel’s breath stopped. 
You really were his world. 
Your smile was blinding as you stepped towards him, your father’s arm wrapped tightly around yours. The closer you got, the more Miguel could feel the air coming back into his lungs.
As he waited for your father to put your hands in his, he couldn’t take his eyes off of you. He was so lucky, he couldn’t believe it. 
As he held his hands out, he had to will himself to relax. 
You stepped closer to him, your warm palms bringing life back to his. 
“You’re shaking.”
He looked to his hands and they did have a faint tremor to them, “I’m excited.”
With eyes for only each other, you both made it through your vows. Miguel damn near brought the audience to tears with his imagery of a lost younger version of himself and you finding him in his aimless pursuit of living. How you opened up to him like a waterfall behind thick vines. How you wrapped your arms around him. How you upgraded his life. 
You almost brought him to tears when you spoke about how he loved you. How he stood tall between all that was against you and guided you to better days. How he never went a day without showering you in some form of love, even when he was feeling like shit. How he made you want to grow old with him and walk through life together. 
To the shock of no one, you both said “I do” with ease, no objection to be heard. 
When he kissed you, the world stopped for only a second and came back down with the celebration from your guests. His hands on your jaw brought you closer to him and one swipe of the tongue before he pulled away had you excited for later. 
One more kiss and you both turned to the crowd ecstatically. The broom was placed in front of you both and with three taps on your hand you both took a huge jump over it. Your family and friends cheered even louder. 
Walking down the aisle to the doors, Miguel could actually pay attention to the crowd. So many people were smiling and wiping tears from their faces. It only solidified the love that he had for you. 
You both laugh as flower petals fill the air around you on the way to the car. 
It was really a joyous occasion. 
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Miguel was so happy, he didn’t care what anyone else did.
Ok so, he did stop one of his baby cousins from sticking their entire head in the fondue machine, but other than that, he was so relieved.
The DJ announcing you two as Mr. & Mrs. Miguel O’Hara elevated his mood and the trip to the dance floor for the first dance had his spirits high. 
The two of you had a sexy number, with his hands barely leaving your hips and his fingers sliding up the slit of the sparkly dress you changed into. 
After that, it was hard for him to keep his hands off of you. He tried to distract himself with catching up with family, grabbing food from each station, having dance competitions, laying sleeping kids more comfortably in chairs, anything to stop himself from just dragging you to your reserved hotel room. 
When you two stood near the cake feeding each other bites with hearts in your eyes, he couldn’t help but to lean into your ear and whisper, “Still the second best flavor.”
You hit his chest with one hand and covered your cake-filled mouth with the other. 
By the time you drove off with ribbons and flowers trailing the back of the car, Miguel was practically buzzing getting you all to himself. 
He made that known by carrying you bridal style to the room without a care in the world and you laughing into his neck. 
You kissed his neck as he refused to let you, even for the elevator, “You’re so silly.”
“The better to make you laugh, Mrs. O’Hara.”
“I love it when you call me that. Say it again.”
“Mrs. O’Hara. My beautiful bride today, my beautiful wife for life.”
He passes through the door after you reach to scan the keycard. As soon as he closes it you’re on his face kissing all over. 
“My husband,” you say in between the passes of his lips against yours. “Mr. O’Hara. Will you put me down?”
“Nuh uh.”
“Then how will we finish off our night with a bang? C’mon, baby, I have a surprise for you.”
“Fine,” four more kisses and Miguel let you go. 
“Just go sit on the bed and I’ll be right back.”
Miguel laid his jacket on a chair and walked over to the bed. He started to unbutton his shirt carefully, not wanting to tear the expensive material. He slid his shoes off carefully too, sliding into the fluffy slippers the hotel provided. 
He would say he wishes he could have done more for tonight, but the two of you will be enjoying the fresh air of a foreign country in about two weeks time. 
He sat on the bed as he waited for you to come out of the bathroom. There was no telling what you had in store, and he can’t wait to find out. 
“Close your eyes!”
Miguel obeyed, curious as to what you had in store. He could hear the padding of your heels on the carpet getting closer. 
You took his hands and guided them to your ass and with muscle memory, he took a handful.
“I’m already sold,” he said, feeling some light fabric hit his wrists. 
You chuckled at his face, seeing his tongue poked out to the corner and his hands feeling and kneading your body. 
“Ok, open ‘em.”
Miguel parted his eyes to see you in beautiful white lingerie. A white open lace see-through babydoll set hugged your tits tight. Panning down, he could see your thin panty with the string pulled over your hips and the curve of your body on display. Going further down, on your left leg, there was a garter digging into your skin that read “Miguel’s Wife” in bold, red cursive letters. 
“You like it?”
Miguel looked up to you with a tinier veil adorning your hair.
“This garter might be the only thing that makes it out unscathed.”
“Yeah?”
“Mm hm,” he leans forward to plant kisses along the top of your chest, pulling your thick thighs around him. “We’re gonna get a complaint.”
“Good,” you raked your nails down his nape, earning a groan from Miguel as you continued to his back. “I want you to make love to me.”
You start to grind along him, feeling the bulge in his suit pants grow. Miguel hummed and started to remove your top. It looked gorgeous on you, but it was useless to him at the moment. Your skin was sparkling all the way down to your nipples and it only made Miguel want to devour you more. 
You gasp as he smacks your ass and hikes you up, his mouth latching onto your areola like it’s fruit from the chocolate fondue today. 
“I’ve been wanting this all night,” Miguel mumbles into your skin. “You looked so amazing today.”
“So did you,” you tilt his chin up to look at his face. “I saw you looking at me all night. You’re not very discreet.”
“Wasn’t trying to be.”
He got up with you in his arms and flipped you over, “Everybody there should know how I feel about you by now.”
You were a vision. Smooth skin contrasting with the stark white of the panty and garter, veil sprawled out behind you like a halo. Miguel bent down to kiss you again, truly in awe that this was who he had as a spouse. 
“I want you to know how I feel about you too,” you whisper against his lips. 
You guide his hand from your face to your breast to your panties. You part your legs, thighs shaking in anticipation. Miguel's eyes get wider as he sees your lips through the peek-a-boo hole of your underwear. One swipe and your essence is on his fingertips. 
Miguel brings his eyes back to you as he takes his fingers and brings it to his lips, sucking it off with a pop. 
You bite your lip watching him lick his fingers and unbuckle his pants. 
The air is tight and heated, with you open and waiting and Miguel watching and wanting. 
He leans back and pulls his pants down. You look down hoping to see a peek of what’s about to rock your world. 
At the sight of your name and “MIC” in bold black letters across the band you bust out in giggles. 
You sit up as he comes around to the side of the bed, “I can’t believe you remembered that.”
“I’ll never forget it.”
You laugh even more when you see it up close.
“Help me take this off,” he turns around to show your name and “Husband” printed on the back.  
You lean into his back in a fit of giggles, shocked but giddy. 
“We really are soulmates,” you say as you pull the briefs by the leg. “Meant to be.”
Miguel turns back around, bending to slide your mouth with his, “Forever and ever.”
True to his word, it really felt like you were his favorite flavor with the amount of marks he left on your skin before he got back in between your legs. You were so wound tight that with one lick from your hole to your clit, you were already trapping his head there. 
Miguel hummed and hiked your hips up, mouth moving to kiss your lips as if he were making out with the ones on your face. It was absurd how loud it sounded. His tongue kept swirling along your walls while the tip of his nose rubbed against your clit. 
You didn’t know where to keep your hands, but it did look good with your ring dazzling on your finger as you brought your hands to his head buried deep in your pussy. 
“Don’t stop,” you cried as he started to nod his face along your flower. 
Just when you could feel yourself ride to the edge, he took his middle and ring finger and spread you open. You shouted his name as you felt the cool touch of the ring slide in and out alongside the heat of his tongue. 
You don’t remember when you came down, but you remember Miguel’s drenched face kissing along your shaking thighs. 
“No Dulce de Leche is beating that, Mrs. O’Hara,” he reached to pull the soaking lace off, careful not to move the garter. 
“C’mere,” you hold your hands out, wanting to feel him on you. “I’m glad you like it so much.”
Miguel groans into your mouth, grinding his dick along your wet folds. He finds your hands and intertwines his fingers with yours. 
“I love you,” he sighs into your mouth. “I love you so much.”
“I love you, too.”
One sweet session later, he had you on your stomach, back arched, and yelling into the pillows as he pounded into you. 
You could see stars as his hips smacked loudly against your ass. The headboard was knocking against the wall with every push. 
Miguel was really feeling the wedding attire as he had one hand gripping your veil by your back and the other pulling at garter. 
When you came around his cock, he was diving in right after, letting go into your sea. The shudders of you afterwards had him moving a little more and turning your face to the side to kiss your panting lips. 
By the time you two finished, you were sure the sun was soon to rise. 
Your hair was a mess, the veil was somewhere across the room, and you both were tangled up in the sheets. 
You laid your head on Miguel’s chest, content to listen to his heartbeat to lull you to sleep. He’s rubbing your arm and kissing the top of your head. 
“Thank you so much for stepping up and making this day so magical for me,” you look up at him. “Words can’t explain how appreciative I am.”
Miguel looked back at you, eyes warm, “I just want to see you smile. Thank you for giving me space to handle things.”
You pucker your lips and he reaches to comply. 
“Now, we need to get some sleep. Gotta regain some energy.”
“You’re absolutely right,” you say as you tilt your eyes down to the sheets. “Because I’ve got a show to put on when we wake up.”
Miguel just laughs as he pulls you onto his chest. 
The birds chirping were a nice background noise to you all’s slumber. 
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I went through several episodes of Kitchen Nightmares in order to finish this. BUT! I am happy with the result. As always, if you enjoyed, please like, reblog, and COMMENT!
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jinnie-ret · 1 year ago
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FIC RECS
Ok so someone in my asks box asked me for some fic recommendations and I tried to add some gradually but my asks have been so weird recently so I've had to make a new post for them!
First of all ty anonnie you words were really sweet, I hope you stay healthy too!
Also just to preface I will list sfw and nsfw recs so pls if you are a minor, do not explore the nsfw recommendations, these blogs will most likely have a mdni statement so pls respect that and don't go against that :)
Now, enjoy!
SFW
Enough for you - @mixtape-racha (poly ot8 angst comfort)
We love an angst comfort fic and this is one of my faves. Take caution reading this one and read the content warnings at the top just in case! But this one is simply amazing and I wish I wrote it the end.
The Field Trip - @dreamescapeswriting (Seungmin X reader)
Seungmin and reader are teachers in this and if you follow me you may have seen me reblog this one before bc I love it and want this, also this blog has so many imagines you will be fed for days
Warm blankets - @jiniret-writings (3 parts, hurt comfort poly ot8 x reader)
I felt so emotionally invested in this story when I read it, like I felt readers pain 😭 gorgeous
jack-in-the-box -@junicai (angst, ninth member reader)
Set in kingdom. We hate mnet. Skz are very protective and reader gets the comfort she deserves in the end, love this sm!
@hyunjinsbelovedamericano - lots of headcanons and reaction type fics on their MASTERLIST, give it a look!!
Simptober 2023 - @skz-streamer
Fluff for days!!! pookie rly worked hard on this one so go and show some love because you've got so much to read here
Skz text aus - @channiesbakery
These are so so funny I cannot cope. Also explore the other fluff posts too bc they're really cute!
More text aus - @diddybok
Same goes for this blog too, explore their other stuff!
@hannahhbahng has some rly cute fluffy reads on their masterlist
@hanjiquokkaaa check out their skz reactions! My pookie slays every time
Skz fluff fics - @wooahaes
So much fluff to pick from! I fall in love every time!
Warm milk and honey - @horanghoe (poly skz x reader)
One of my fav skz comfort fics of all time, it's so so good, recommending again bc I should
In his arms, unexpectedly yours - @cheesemonky (Hyunjin x reader series)
This is a new series which I'm excited to see my pookie write !!!
@astraysimp for dad skz!!!
Nicholas Ross - @dean-a-mean-tae (skz ninth member male oc)
Love their ninth member writings so definitely check it out if you're looking for male!oc who is the ninth!
In my past, I find you and in the future, I still have you - @yangbbokari (Chan x reader)
Heartbreaking, like so angsty but it's gorgeous gorgeous gorgeous
Princess treatment with SKZ - @j-oneproduces
Each individual member x reader has a drabble and I love it so so much, very accurate imo
@skzoologist read their imagines on their ninth member oc Bae! They also have a fic called unfamiliarity using the same oc :)
I like the view - @mirisss (hybrid ot8 skz X reader)
I rly need to reread this one because I loved what I read so far on it!!!
NSFW
Rabbit hybrid reader - @authorofdanger (hybrid skz x hybrid reader)
I've linked a masterlist, I'd recommend the fic dominance and then the first few fics which are to do with reader as a rabbit hybrid! slight warning that woojin is mentioned
Red Moon - @lixiepeach (omegaverse series)
this is one of the first skz omegaverse fics I read and it is done so beautifully, as it says in the description of the series, it deals with more adult content than just smut, and the way it is explored is written so well, couldn't recommend highly enough!
Inked Petals and Message Tones - @leviackermanscleaningbuddy (poly smau with real life)
this is an ao3 skz fic which changed my life. I can't explain how much I love this, it had me on an emotional rollercoaster fr fr like it's amazing!
n.h.i.e mini series - @hyungszn (smut ot8 x reader)
damn this one really has me on my toes like the chapters are chefs kiss and it's such a good read!
Bold - @hyunsvngs (American footballer minsung x reader)
Wow wow wee wow. This one made my brain go brrr and evaporate and melt and wow the storyline in it is so so good too. Juno rly has such a good relationship with anonnies and moots and it's so lovely to see. A jupiter stan right here!!
Sanguis Limerence - @jl-micasea-fics (vampire skz x reader)
This is one of the first series I was fully committed to reading on this all and constantly checking. It's insanely amazing, I can't put it into words and now I wanna read it all back again 😭
waiting for us - @kkami-writes (smau poly ot8 X reader)
I'm in love with this!!! Perhaps my fav skz smau like the character development as well is really nice to see and it's an easy read if you find it easier to read it in text messages form
Anger management - @2chopsticks2eyes (minsung x reader)
This is so hot and the way the storyline progresses as well is beautiful
@1-800-shedevil I'm in awe of her and her blog. Gorgeous writer, gorgeous writing. Her posts about body positivity rly are so helpful and her words are so comforting
Sharing = caring - @cbini (ot8 X reader)
This is unbelievably good and if you haven't seen it yet? Do you even Tumblr? Love how ems has such a good relationship with moots and in answering asks too! cbinian for life
Better than revenge - @lixie-phoria (smau Jeongin x reader)
I'm so obsessed with this series so far, putting it here bc there's smut to be added in the future. But I'm in love with it so far wow!!!
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potionpeddlerpatchy · 2 years ago
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word count: 8.9K
paring: Wolf!Bakugou x fReader
warning(s): cunnilingus, marking (biting and claws), loss of virginity, loss of innocence, some blood (very minor and only mentioned briefly), and dirty talking/slight degradation.
authors note: well, hello again! I'm currently in the middle of writing something new, but I figured it might be a good idea to repost some of my favourite works from my old blog here - especially this one (and another one soon) as I will be adding a sort of continuation to this story; so best to have both in one place - just to tide you over until new pieces are done. Besides I am quite fond of this one, spun three wheels to get prompts (dialog of “Can I just hold your hand?” the trope of Fake Dating, and the AU being Fantasy). I've always enjoyed how this turned out, though it is one of my first works so apologies if it doesn't have the same caliber, and I hope you all do too - I know Bakugou is quite the favourtie~ 🔮
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You weren’t from around here.
Bakugou could tell the moment you entered this seedy tavern, the way your boots clicked against the old wood made his ear shift to your direction, His whole head following suit when he could smell the sweet scent that sat on your skin.
You stuck out like a sore thumb. Maybe not to all the other low lives that surround this place, but Bakugou could tell. Your clothing, though it seemed to match that of the other women around, was too well-tailored; the cloth too fine and expensive and the leather used was not worn enough.
And you had jewels; real ones he could tell. Though you did hide them well, he just had very good eyesight. And really that was the main reason he kept his gaze on you. He wouldn’t mind snagging a few of them for himself; it would allow him to live comfortably for a while – and you could spare a few, couldn’t you?
But there was also a hint of curiosity too; a noble-born on the run? What kind were you exactly? A runaway Princess perhaps? No. He rolled his eyes at himself for the thought – there weren’t nearly enough royal guards around searching for you and causing a ruckus for you to be that.
But there were a few. So perhaps a Countess or even a Duchess? His money was on the latter. The way you carried yourself was not as self-assured and haughty as those that were countesses. If he remembered correctly, those women always flaunted their wealth because they had something to prove.
But the way you sat down and paid for a drink made it clear you didn’t have anything to prove; so, a countess you were not.
You were a pretty thing too. A beauty like you didn’t come around these parts often, and Bakugou couldn’t help but want to continue to look at you. He wasn’t the only one, all these lecherous creatures that were around kept glancing your way – their excitement clear as the whole place grew rowdier.
Not like they had a chance with you, not in hell. They would have to stick with the barmaids and brothels full of women to satisfy any of their barbaric needs. And though Bakugou was technically a part of these grotesque creatures, he was more human than anything; most wolves were. If anyone had a chance it was definitely him.
He knew he was good-looking, could probably pass for a Prince himself if it weren’t for the stupid ears, claws, and tail that held him back. Reduced him to living with others like him on the outskirts of the land, to be treated as a lesser than. That’s why he always found joy whenever a noble, like you, wandered around his turf. He loved scaring them, the frightened expressions as they tried to weakly defend themselves always proved that they were the ones that were beneath him.
But you were different. Bakugou didn’t want to scare you into giving him what he wanted, he wanted you to give it willingly.
“It’s rude to stare.” You mumbled, as you picked up the large mug placed before you and brought the frothy drink up to your lips.
“You’re not gonna like it.” Bakugou replied, eyes moving back to stare at his drink, swirling it, like he was doing before you walked in.
You just rolled your eyes at him, shaking your head lightly before taking a sip. The froth was nice and fizzy, but the rest of it all was the most bitter thing you ever placed in your mouth. You grimaced as it slid down your throat, making it burn all the way down to your stomach. You held back your coughs in defiance of the stranger beside you, not wanting to prove that he was right.
“Told you.” He chuckled, his tone mocking as he downed the rest of his drink, he rested the glass back down heavily on the counter before him “It’s the most bitter thing in this whole world, but it gets you messed up the fastest. But I don’t think you knew that, did you, princess?”
“Don’t call me that….” You mumble, bringing the glass back up to your lips – though it was awful it was helping you blend in more “M’not a princess”
“Could have fooled me.” Bakugou purred as he slunk closer to you, forgetting his glass entirely “Then what are you exactly?”
Your exasperated sigh just made his grin, wolfish and almost feral, spread wider on his face as he leaned on the bar counter; your arms almost touching. You shuffled as much as you could away from the stranger, his breath reeked of alcohol, and you weren’t overly comfortable with how close his face was to yours.
“A traveler, just like you.” You kept your tone pointed, trying your best to prove to this stranger that you didn’t want to talk to him or have him as close as he was.
“No, you’re not.”
“Oh really, now?” You asked through gritted teeth, unable to stop your angry gaze to fall back onto him and his shaking head “And how would you know?”
“These clothes….” He started picking at the wrist of your cotton sleeve, sharp claws ran delicately up and down your forearm “Are too nice, too well-tailored. If you really were a traveler then they wouldn’t be as clean and pristine. They would look more rugged like that chick over there.”
You followed his head movement to where a woman, surrounded by a few men around a dark wooden table, sat drinking merrily – not caring that with each shove and playful push would cause half their ale to slosh onto the floor. But the stranger was right, though her clothing looked nearly identical to you, it wasn’t quite as polished. Loose strings would hang off cuffs and hems, the colouring of the fabrics was more dull, not as vibrant. She looked like she had traveled across many lands, you looked like you just started.
“And” You tensed when you felt his breath in your ear and his hand wandering to your waist “Not many people around here have trinkets such as yours.”
You gulped, throat suddenly very dry, as you looked back at his face; the glint in his eyes made you even more nervous. A lamb suddenly in the jaws of the wolf.
“Are you going to rob me?” You asked, voice trembling. Fright filled your being and shook your body in his loose hold, as you watch him lick his lips “Are you going to hurt me?”
“No.” He chuckled, mirth feeling his being over your frightened state “I’m just wondering who you are, and why you showed up here.”
“Why?”
“Call it curiosity.” He shrugged his shoulders, eyes darting towards the entrance of the tavern; watching briefly as two well-dressed and armed men entered “And you better tell me quickly before they figure out you’re here.”
Your head darted to the entrance as well, eyes widening in fear as you saw the insignia engraved on their chest plates; there was no doubt they were here for you. And that bastard who wouldn’t let you go knew it too.
“Can I just hold your hand?”
“What!?” You whipped your head back as you watched him pull away from you, your breathing quickening in pace as your heart was thumping loudly in your chest that you knew that he could hear it.
“Just take my fucking hand!” He hissed at you, a hand quickly grasping yours before you really had a chance to reach it out to him.
He slunk his other arm so it was now encircled around your waist as he nodded his head at your drink; silently asking you to hold it up for him. You did with a shaky hand, the proximity of his entire being – having it wrapped around you like this – was making your cheeks flush red. You had never been this intimate with a man before, let alone with a stranger. It was all so incredibly overwhelming, it didn't help that being this close only made you realize how attractive he really was.
You wanted to take your eyes off his face, especially when you watched his tongue peek out from his lips to lick around his mouth at the few drops of your drink that spilled out due to your clumsy hand not keeping it steady. You could see his eyes darken and it made you want to shy away; out of fear or something else, you were not sure - the weird sensation that flushed your body was foreign and frightening.
You almost forgot all about the armed men hunting for you until you heard one call out to the pair of you; two pairs of boots rushing to where you sat. You wanted to let out a sigh of relief when his eyes moved from your face; but held back the urge.
“What?” His gruff tone proved he was agitated as he glared daggers at them, almost smirking when he saw them be taken aback by him.
“Excuse your tone!” One of them spoke first, chest-puffing out to look more intimidating than he was. “You do not speak that way to a royal guard!”
“Well, sorry” His mocking tone countered the apology “But I don’t appreciate having you assholes ruining the moment I was sharing.”
“Well, that woman-!” The other interjected, clearly not as afraid as his partner as he got into the stranger's face “Is the runaway Duchess of House L/N! And we are on direct orders to bring her back!”
‘Ah, so you were a Duchess’ Bakugou thought to himself as a smirk crept its way on his face; both out of knowing his assumption about you was right and from this dick of a man who thought he could take him on for size.
“Do you really fucking think that?”
“Don’t speak to me that way.” The man’s tone was dark, his teeth on display as he started to draw his sword out, to prove he meant serious business.
“Then don’t speak to me like that!” Bakugou snarled, fangs on display to show he also meant serious business “Or threaten me in front of my mate! Continue to do it and I’ll rip your throat out right here and now.”
The low, continuous, growl that was coming from his chest was breaking the guard’s tough façade – though it was barely noticeable. But Bakugou could tell that he was getting a little frightened by him, especially when he glanced towards your profile and saw you trembling with fear. Though he couldn’t stare at you for long as he watched a clawed hand place itself at the back of your head and pull you into his chest.
“If she really was the person you’re claiming her to be, then why the fuck would she be in here? Why would she be in a situation like this? Why would she let a beast like me this close?” Bakugou narrowed his eyes at the two men before, as if to challenge his logic wrong.
You both could see, though your vision was limited, the guard’s hand trembling on the hilt of his sword; clearly taking this stranger’s word as fact and now debating what to do next. Bakugou could see the conflict in his eyes – clearly not knowing if he should harass the two of you or move one. His partner, on the other hand, took a step away.
“That’s what I fucking thought.” Bakugou muttered, his eyes watching the weaker of the two, “Now if you’re done threatening us, I suggest you leave before this gets real fucking messy”
You had to commend his acting, truly, as the more brash guard stood upright. He muttered something under his breath, though you couldn’t hear, before both pairs of boots walked sullenly away from you; the footsteps becoming harder to hear the further they went until you couldn’t hear them anymore. A sign that they had left the tavern. The coast now being clear.
“They bought it?” You whispered, pulling yourself more upright as you looked towards where they left.
“Of course, they did” He shrugged, taking your drink once more and downing the last of it “They’re not smart. Besides….” You felt sharp claws take a gentle purchase under your chin to turn your head back to him “They wouldn’t want to fight someone like me”
“Aren’t you full of yourself?” You scoffed, moving away from him fully now. Your mind now coming back to you.
“A ‘you’re welcome’ would be fucking appropriate right now, sweetness. Especially seeing as I risk my life to get you out of that bind.”
You felt him grip your wrist again, and when you looked up at him you could see that same self-satisfied smirk back on his face. It made you roll your eyes and look away once more, a clear look of displeasure on your face as your lips formed a scowl.
He was right, he had helped you out of a really tough bind. His on-the-spot thinking meant that you didn’t have to go back to your home kicking and screaming within those guards’ hold. But, at the same time, he kept touching you without permission. Along with his full-of-himself attitude made saying your gratitude feel as bitter as that liquid burning down your throat.
“Thank you.” You finally managed to mutter out, pulling your hand away from his grip, your scowl deepening further.
“That muuuuuch better!” He cooed, his mocking tone made you ball your fists in anger; but that seemed to only spur him on even more “Now come on, pay up.”
“Pay up…?” You mumbled, your eyebrows furrowing as confusion replaced the annoyance “What…?”
“You owe me, sweetness. Did you a huge favor, now you’re gonna repay me in kind” His arms crossed over his chest that was now puffed out in overconfidence “I can think of a few ways you can too, though let’s start with why those losers were after you in the first place, duchess.”
You sighed; you knew that you had no real choice in the matter, there was no way you were getting out of this. He was strong, and though it was a little hard to tell due to his olive coat and baggy clothing, you were sure he could easily overpower you without breaking a sweat. And well, you weren’t made to fight.
“Fine. I –“ You began, only for one of his fingers to press against your lips; effectively shushing you from speaking further.
“Not here, sweetness” He smirked, enjoying that his little nickname made your nostrils flare in annoyance. “As much as I would love to see you plastered off your ass, I’ve had enough of those low-life extras staring at you.”
He tilted his head towards the other patrons. And true to his word a lot of them were giving you, what they thought were sneaky, glances your way. It could be due to the display that just occurred with those guards stomping your way and causing a scene, but with the suggested undertones of the stranger's words made you question those glances as innocent curiosity.
“Good idea…” You nodded, pulling your head away when you felt the tip of his claw tickle your nose.
You watched him get to his feet, offering you his hand after he got a few paces ahead of you; as if realizing that you didn’t know where he was going. You gingerly took hold of his hand and allowed him to pull you from your seat to stand before him. It was at that moment you realized just how tall and imposing he was compared to you. He didn’t really seem that way when he was hunched over the bar counter, but now? Well, it was enough to make a shiver run down your spine when he loomed over you with that wolfish smirk as he wrapped his arm around you and began to lead you out of the seedy place.
“W-wait!” You whispered; voice frantic as you tried to gain some sense of control over this less-than-ideal situation you found yourself in “I need to know your name before we go any further.”
You heard him huff out an annoyed groan, bringing his free hand up to pass through his hair before it fell limply at his side. “It’s Bakugou, now come on.”
He didn’t give you any time to say anything else, or really to process what he just said. His name only ran through your head with certainty when you felt the cool summer night’s air hit your face.
It was cold.
And damp. Though it was to be expected to some degree in the dense forest you were currently being dragged within. It put you on edge, every little thing that moved and seemed to whisper through the branches; made you tense and cause your breath to quicken at points.
Though after the first little leg of the journey you felt silly for being so afraid. Arguably the most fearsome creature within these forests was the one that was walking beside you in the first place, so really what harm could befall you if you had him on your side?
Bakugou.
He was leading you through this place with expert ease like he had done this thousands of times before to the point where it was more memory than thinking. To where, you were not sure, but given the familiarity and ease you could only assume he was leading you to his home; or den, or cave, or wherever it was a creature like him would rest his head.
The moment you began walking, out of earshot of all those around, he asked you to tell your tale; wanting to fill the silence and hear just what led you here in the first place. And though he was quite chatty at the tavern just moments prior, he was quiet now. Trudging along like it was a chore. Listening to you with almost disinterest even though he was the one curious about your situation in the first place.
It wasn’t like he wasn’t listening or found it boring. He was just lost in thought at the details of your story. How overly complicated life was like at court. All those rules and regulations on how to do the most mundane of things, like living and eating, all boiling down to a miserable, controlled, and boring life.
He didn’t envy you at all. If he had to wake up every day and be told what to wear, how to wear it, how to eat, how to talk to people, he may have just ended it all and run away too. No amount of wealth was worth living in such a way.
Though his interest peaked when you brought up the engagement. The straw that broke the camel’s back as it were; the whole reason you ran off in the first place. It caused his ear to stand pointed atop his head as he listened to your mutterings as best he could.
Enji Todoroki, that was the man who had asked for your hand. That was the man your parents more than willingly threw you out to if it meant more land to their name. Bakugou almost laughed at the sudden shift in your tone when speaking about him, with such anger and disdain. A far cry from the soft-spoken women you were moments prior.
But you couldn’t help it. You didn’t want to marry this cruel man. You didn’t want to be sold out to him like cattle simply for more prosperity for your family. The only reason he was interested was because you were a pretty young face, nothing more really.
It made Bakugou roll his eyes. Of course, Enji would be asking for your hand, even someone like him knew the habits of that old man. One recently separated from his wife and was now looking for a younger, prettier, bride. It was all people could gossip about for months. Wondering which woman he was going to propose to – and well it seemed like it was you.
It was ridiculous really. Not only could he be your father, but he also had sons that were of marrying age. In fact, a more suitable match would be for you to marry one of them. You knew that Shoto was your age, and it would still lead to fortune for your family as he would inherit plenty.
But no. Your parents wanted your life, your destiny, to be tied to the older man. To breed and bear his children until another younger and more beautiful thing came around. It happened to his previous wife, and you knew it would happen to you.
“I deserve more.” You declared, your rant about the whole situation over “I won’t even say I deserve love. I just want to be with someone who at least respects me, and I can tolerate sitting in a room with.”
You let out a loud sigh, glancing at your companion who was still as quiet and unreadable as when you started. The only thing that indicated that he was still listening, or just remembering your presence, was the small hums of acknowledgment he would give every now and then.
“I don’t think that’s too much to ask…” You mumble out, feeling slightly awkward from the silence that had now befallen you.
“Your life is ridiculous.” Bakugou finally muttered, bringing a hand up to move a branch out of his way “No wonder you want to fucking leave it. I wouldn’t wanna spend one day as you, let alone deal with that bullshit.”
He had a way with words, one that made you chuckle at how brash and crude they were. No one dared speak that way at court, let alone around a lady. But you found it refreshing that he didn’t care; that he spoke what was on his mind regardless of decorum. That he was honest.
“What are you smiling at?” Bakugou asked, tone irritated as he looked down at you – hating the way your lips turn upwards in that annoying little grin.
“Nothing…” You giggled out, your tone going up in a teasing way as you turned away from him. “You just talk differently.”
“Eh!? What do you mean by that!” He yelled, stepping ahead, and blocking your path with ease.
“I-I don’t mean any harm by it!” You held your hands up in defense to prove your point further “I like it actually…”
The way you mumbled out the last part, and how you bashfully moved your head to look downwards made the man before you smirk. That wolfish grin was back on his face, one that you didn’t know whether you missed or hated, as he leaned down to breathe in your ear. The way you shivered slightly when it hit your ear did not go unnoticed by him.
“If you like that, then you’ll love the way I sound when - !”
You pushed past him before he could even think of finishing that thought; catching him off guard if the little grunt was any indication. Your whole being was too flustered to even want to know where his mind was going.
“D-don’t!” You warned, your voice still sounding nervous but the volume it was at was proof you meant serious business “I don’t want to know!”
You were cute like this, Bakugou couldn’t deny. A little thing so easily flustered by him was refreshing, and it made the animal in him roar loudly. Oh, what he would do to something like you. He would absolutely wreck you, ruin any little part of innocence you had left within you.
His motive now changed. He no longer wanted your trust so you could give him those jewels that were tucked neatly away. He wanted something more precious, more untainted than money. But he would have to play it smart if he were ever going to obtain it.
“Come on,” Bakugou rolled his eyes, trying to seem unfazed by your little outburst “It’s only a little further ahead.”
“What is?” You asked, fidgeting on the spot as you watched him walk ahead and away from you once more – his arm pulling back a branch to clear the path before you.
“My house, dumbass. I want to get out of the cold as soon as possible, so hurry up!”
You didn’t hesitate to scramble yourself forward; feet trying their best to move as quickly as they could to heed his command. You would be lying if you said you didn’t want to get out of the cold night’s air and get some rest. Even if it was in the home of the strange man-wolf in front of you.
~ ~ ~
His home was not what you expected it to be.
Not at all.
It was cozy. A small cottage that seemed just the right size for someone to live in comfort, but not with too much space to spare. It looked soft too, the upholstered chairs, his bed, even the bear-skinned rug before his fireplace, all looked so soft. That if you were to touch them you would delve into them – sinking eternally in their plushness.
It really was what you wanted most. You had been running all day, and after that walk through the forest to get here, only proved just how worn your feet and body had become. You sighed out in relief once you had the chance to take off those dreaded boots; watching in curiosity at the wolf before as he placed birch logs into the open maw of the fireplace. Humming constantly when those logs burned and quickly filled the home with a gentle warmth.
“Get over here.” You heard Bakugou growl out, watching him in confusion as he rested back on his haunches; elbows resting on his knees as he rubbed his hands together at the flickering flames. 
“Come on!” He urged again, head finally snapping back to you. Rolling his eyes at the witless expression on your face as you continued to stand uncomfortably at his threshold “I know you’re cold, so hurry and get yourself warm.”
You nodded your head, scrambling once more to heed his command. Feet padding gently on the wooden floor before it was muted by the softness of the fur before the fire. When you sat, you couldn’t stop yourself from running your hands through the dense fur, marveling at how it felt under your fingertips. This was possibly the only time you would ever get to touch this kind of beast, and you were going to enjoy it as much as you could.
Though, after a few moments the lure of the fire called your name. Your cold bones were unable to resist the temptation and you found yourself with outstretched arms towards it. Enjoying the warm glow as flames almost seemed to lick and nip at your fingertips.
“What’s your next step?” Bakugou asked, unable to keep himself quiet. Not when he had you all to himself once more “You’re staying the night, obviously. But after that.”
His tone made it clear that it wasn’t up for debate on whether or not you would find shelter here for the night or continue on your way. Not that you were complaining. You would spend every day here in the warm solitude this small cottage provided.
“I’m not sure…” You finally whispered out, after pondering that question in your head for a few moments. “To be honest I didn’t expect to get this far…”
You saw the look he gave you; it was a mixture of annoyance and disbelief. Like he couldn’t believe that you truly had no plan, no thoughts on where you might go and do, as you figured the moment you started to run you would be caged again. It made you pull your hands back into your lap, fidgeting with them nervously, clearly showing you were a little embarrassed by your truth.
“He’s a powerful man.” You reasoned, trying to get him to understand “And I have never known life outside of my family’s estate and court. I wasn’t expecting to get far with the little knowledge I had. Or with his hounds on my tail…”
You chuckled, Bakugou joining you for a moment as well, remembering those idiotic guards you had crossed paths with. How useless they were. Though, after tonight you knew more would be spread out in an attempt to find you. And as the man before you had stated the moment he met you, you stuck out in a crowd. So really, where could you go to hide?
“I have nowhere to go.” You finally admitted, shaking your head. You had been foolish to even think that this would work in the first place “Even if I were able to slip through the border, someone would alert them of me once I tried to sell my jewels. Or they would take them and sell me out for the bounty that will surely be over my head soon.”
“So what? That’s it?” Bakugou retorted, bewilderment in his tone at how easily you were accepting defeat “All that work just to go running back with your tail between your legs!?”
“I don’t have a choice!” You snapped back, eyes narrowing back at his own “I have no friends outside these walls. Only those that wish to see me go back to that horrid fate for a quick coin! Much like you!”
“I don’t want your stupid jewels anymore!” Bakugou defended, hands turning into fists at your truthful accusation – claws digging into his palms.
“So what? You still wanted them the first moment you saw them! Who is to say someone else won’t rob me for what I have on me, and leave me penniless and stranded? Or worse…”
You shook your head at those horrid thoughts. Not wanting to think of those dark and twisted outcomes that may befall you if you were to continue out of these woods. And though returning back to that man was not a fate you wished to have, it was better than whatever may come to you if you continued.
“The safest outcome for me is going back….”
You whispered your sealed fate; taking in a shaky breath to try and calm yourself down, trying your best to ignore the crimson eyes that stared intently at you. Though those breaths quickly turned heated as anger clouded your mind. You threw your fists against the rug as you let out a wail of frustration and anger over that decision; a foot kicking out to topple the small stack of wood that sat before you.
“It’s just not fair!” You declared through clenched teeth “It’s my life! Why can’t I have any say in how it will go!? Why do I have to marry that bastard?”
You took one glance at the man beside you, searching his eyes for some sort of answer. When you could not find one, you sighed out once more before bringing your knees to your chest, resting your chin upon them like a pouting child.
“If you’re gonna have to go back…” You heard Bakugou, his tone softer as if in sympathy for you, as he raked his brain for that solution you were hoping for “Then get even with them.”
“What?” You softly questioned, your face turning back to him – that wolfish grin was back, and it made you nervous at what he was going to say next.
“If you’re gonna have to marry that asshole no matter what. Then the best way to get back at them all is to give up that sweet virtue of yours. And what better ‘fuck-you’ would it be if you gave it to someone like me?”
Your mouth went dry at his words, finding it near impossible to swallow that lump that was now in your throat. He wanted you to do something that was ingrained into you since childhood as sacred; something only to be done to by the person you were to be bound with for the rest of your living days on this land.
And the almost casual way he brought it up, accompanied by those burning eyes – ones that made the fire before you seem mild in comparison – meant that this wasn’t his first time in seducing a lady; to ask her to keep him company for the night.
But a part of you couldn’t help but be seduced by it all. By the thought of going against tradition, against your family, and especially against that man that already broken the sacred oaths before; so why shouldn’t you? Why should you deny yourself this one, and only, rebellion you could dish out? Why should you deny yourself to feel the touch of this handsome man before you? One that seemed to want to give you, probably, the only night of passion and enjoyment you will ever receive?
You couldn’t.
And that was probably why you felt your heart nearly explode in your chest, as a fire ignited in your belly once you felt his warm and slightly chapped lips touch yours.
Your whole body seemed to melt when you felt his palm reach up to caress your cheek and pull you closer, and deeper, into the sweet kiss. A gesture that seemed so small, yet it showed to you a level of tenderness that he had yet to openly give you since you met him. It made you want to return his kiss with fervor.
Bakugou chuckled at your eagerness, finding it endearing at your clumsy and inexperienced actions that were hidden behind your enthusiasm. It meant that you wanted this. And if you wanted this, then it meant that he could show you a night you will never forget. One that you would remember every single time that old bastard took you into his bed at night – that whenever he took you, you would only be reminded of him instead.
That thought made Bakugou growl deep within his chest. For some reason, he really hated that thought. And when he pulled away from the kiss, he couldn’t help himself but duck lower, to your neck, and start to leave his mark on the untouched flesh.
Your whimpers doing nothing but spur him on. He wanted to hear every little sound you could make; wanted you to hear you wail, moan, and scream his name. The animal in him was being set loose, and he was trying his hardest to not let it run free. Though it was proving harder to do when he felt your trembling hands tug at his coat, feeling your hands slip under the fur of his collar to the smooth skin underneath it.
“Kiss me again” You breathlessly whispered to him, your hands pushing down on his neck to bring him closer “Please?”
Bakugou was unable to suppress his low groan at your words, as he brought his head away from your neck back up to yours. Lips clashing with yours in a messy kiss, one that he dominated easily. Who was he to say no to such a pretty request?
Your kisses become more urgent, almost hurried as the moments pass. Unable to let each other part for too long, even if it was to breathe. A part of it was because his lips felt so wonderful on yours, a tantalizing sensation that left you tingling all over. But the other reason was out of bashfulness. Unable to let yourself fully part from him, to look at him, as he slowly untied and unbuckled every piece of clothing you had.
His touches were gentle. The way his fingertips, and claws, would slightly drag over your skin, like a butterfly’s kiss, made goosebumps appear in their wake. Made you shiver and let out shaky breaths as you parted from one another. Your breath mingling with his, and allowing this reprieve, to fully undress.
You bit your tender lip when you felt his heated gaze wash over your skin. It made you squirm; made you place your hands around your chest to hide from his piercing gaze. Unable to stand the heat of it.
He truly was a predator that caught himself a prize, at least that’s how it seemed when he looked at you. He certainly didn’t appreciate you hiding your beautiful skin from him, your wonderful body. A low growl, one that almost mimicked the warning he gave to those guards an hour prior, rumbled into his chest as he pulled your arms away from your chest.
His grasp was firm, but not painful, you could feel the warning in it; telling you to not do something similar again as he laid your nearly bare form down onto the fur. Pinning your arms above your head
“Keep them there.” Bakugou commanded, his rumbling voice that resembled gravel made it clear to you that you had to obey.
And obey you did. You relaxed your arms and turned your wrist inwards as your fingers once again threaded through the bear’s fur. Trying your best to keep yourself grounded, avoiding becoming too sheepish, as to let him continue his ministries.
Swift hands made quick work of your skirts, ridding them and causing you to lay bare before him; the first man to ever see you this was since you were a babe. His gaze was telling more than words ever could at just how wonderful you seemed to look. And though you couldn’t keep eye contact with him for long, he could see the heat in your eyes as well once he started to shed his garments. That smug smirk was the main reason you turned your head away.
Bakugou’s hands started tracing your collarbone, following it along from shoulder to shoulder. His lips came down onto it a moment later to lavish it with wet kisses. You could feel his smirk on your skin when he nipped at a particularly tender spot, enjoying how your hips bucked up slightly into his own.
He was enjoying this as much as you. If the slight breeze of air that came in contact with your legs, the slight brush of coarse hair, caused by the wagging of his tail was any sign. It made you giggle breathless as you watched the appendage pick up speed the lower his lips descended on your body.
He kept up this tender care all throughout your chest. Slowly moving his hands downward, his lips following moments later over the swell of your breasts, allowing the soft kisses to distract you as his fingers pinched at your hardening nipples.
Your mewls spurred him on to take one of the hardened buds into his mouth, eyes glancing up to see if you were liking the way his tongue flicked over it rapidly. Chuckling when you arched your back, and let out a keen, over what he was doing to you. That needy whine sent shivers straight to his cock, as it bobbed up against his stomach.
It was only when his hands slipped themselves down in between your legs that you moved your hands to grasp his wrist. The combination of the low groan that left his mouth mixed with all the wetness that found itself on your thighs was too much for you.
“I said!” Bakugou growled once more, speaking to you through clenched teeth “Keep your hands out of the way.”
He pried your hands off his wrist and moved them once again, this time to rest at your sides. And though you closed your eyes once more in embarrassment, he kept his eyes trained on your face when pressed his hands moved behind your knees to pull them up and apart – baring your weeping cunt to the fire's light.
“Look at me.”
It was hard for you to follow his request, a whimper escaping your throat to show your unease, but finally opening your eyes when he asked once more, tone soft and gentle, to look back down at him. He was handsome and looked so alluring with his hair all mused and ears pointed in between your legs, as he gently caressed your plush thighs in a comforting manner.
You couldn’t help the gasp that came froth, almost in a shrill manner, when you watched his tongue take a long and heavy stripe up your core; not missing the way his claws now dug into your skin, it was almost painful.
“S-stop! Don’t…” You cried out, hands twitching at your sides, trying their hardest to not push him away “Don’t do that, it – it’s dirty down there!”
Bakugou scoffed at your claim, taking a bite out of your thigh to have you look back at him. Once you do he repeats the action, this time accompanying it with a groan – smirking once more at the flush that was now making it down your neck.
“Not dirty at all.” He shrugged his shoulders before settling into a more comfortable position “How can something that tastes as good as you, be dirty?”
You didn’t have an answer for him. Not that you could really, not when your brain did nothing but short-circuit and turn to mush when you felt his tongue swipe up and down at your glistening folds. Unable to hold back any of the mewls and moans that crept out of your throat; especially when his lips found that special bundle of nerves and began to suckle on it.
Bakugou was taking his time, though it was a little bit agonizing. As much as he wished to go faster, to hear the wonton screams that he knew he could make you sing, he knew that you needed this to be as passionate and tender as it could be. So, whenever you would look back on this night, you would not regret allowing him this.
Not that he truly minded. The sounds of your gasps, your twitching thighs, and your bucking hips made up for it. Especially when he slipped a finger into your warmth and felt you tight walls fluttering around the digit. It was delightful, so much so he couldn’t help but let a growl; the vibrations making your hips jump once more. If you felt this good around his finger, he could only imagine how amazing it would feel having your gummy walls around his cock.
After a few pumps, he added another finger. Pushing through your tight entrance to help properly prepare you for his thick member; not wanting it to hurt once he finally got around to fucking you. The sinful, loud, whines you let out as your back arched when he began to scissor his fingers made his head a little dizzy. So aroused by it all that he couldn’t help himself from rutting his hips, and hard cock, on the rug beneath him.
You had the rug gripped between your fingers, your knuckles going white at how tightly you were holding on, as you felt a bundle start to twine in your gut. One that seemed built out of fire and that twisted almost painfully the more he licked, sucked, and played with your weeping core.
“Come on, sweetness” He nearly begs, his voice going hoarse “I can feel you fluttering around me, just let go. I got you.”
You babbled, though you’re not sure of what, as you listened to his gentle command. Unable to resist, you did as he said, and let go of that tight knot deep within you; allowing it to snap and your body to go rigid. Head moving side to side as you whimpered and wept over the overwhelming sensation.
Though it was only now that you truly understood why so many called this feeling ‘le petite mort’ as you felt a part of your soul had died and found its way to heaven. You couldn’t help but want to feel this feeling over and over again until you yourself passed on. Though it was sinful, you had never felt anything so wondrous.
You whimpered when you felt his fingers slowly leave your tender hole, not wanting the feeling of being full to leave you so soon. And neither did Bakugou. He didn’t want to let up when you finally came, wanting instead to continue – to overstimulate you until you were a blubbering, teary-eyed mess, that was begging him to stop. But he couldn’t help himself. He needed to be in you, right now.
“You ready?” He whispered, bringing his hand up to softly caress your cheek, the tip of his cock twitching against your thigh “Cause we can – can stop if you want.”
“No!” You begged, bringing your own hand up to grasp his; kissing his palm “P-please, I want more.”
Your soft confession made Bakugou moan out, hiding his head in the crook of your neck, as he tried to compose himself once more. He knew what he was doing when he started, corrupting your innocence, however he was not expected to become this turned on – affected – by your turning.
He now needed more, want a distant memory from when he began. He placed the blunt head of his cock at your entrance and slowly pushed in, groaning at the tight heat that welcomed him as he slowly, inch by inch, sheathed himself. The stretch itself was a little painful for you, the more he pushed in, but not in a bad way. It simply just felt strange, as you had never felt a man in you before.
Though the more that kept entering you, the more you would whimper out. You had felt full when his fingers were within you, but this was an entirely different sensation; an entirely different feeling of being full. One that made your eyes shut tightly as your mind could only focus on the slightly pleasant burn of being stretched wide.
Bakugou let out a huff, head dangling above yours; some of his hair tickling your cheeks as he allowed you the time needed to adjust to the new sensation. And himself if he was honest. Your cunt was so tight that, mixed with his earlier actions, made him almost cum then and there once he bottomed out.
“You can move now…” You mumbled, pushing his hair back so you could look into his eyes.
He didn’t say anything back, just simply nodded his head as he adjusted your legs to rest upon his hip. It made you moan softly at the shift, his cock feeling deeper in you. Though that moan turned into a hiss when you moved his hips back slightly, your walls still sore from his intrusion; still burned. But Bakugou was careful with his movements, only moving an inch at a time before moving back fully into you.
It was a slow process, but soon he was able to pull almost all the way out before snapping his hips back into yours, quiet pained whimpers turned themselves into cries of pleasure with each thrust. You couldn’t help but bring your around his shoulder, your nails pressing crescent moons into his back with every slam of his cock into you.
The burn of feeling your nails drag into your skin made Bakugou grip your hips ever tighter. You both knew with the way his nails into your flesh, breaking your flesh and having slight trickles of blood run down your legs, meant that there would be scars; ones that your soon-to-be-husband would soon see. And that made you moan out louder, knowing that there would always be a reminder of this night for years to come.
“You like that, don’t you?” Bakugou asked through labored breath, his pace picking up speed as pulled you down to meet his thrusts; salivating at your bouncing chest “You like when I mark your skin? Like when I use your sloppy cunt, use you like the slut that you are?”
Bakugou laughed darkly when you whined at his words and shook your head no. Though you were denying his claims, your body was telling a very different tale; if the amount of slick that dripped down both your thighs was any indication.
“No?” He mocked, a smug smirk forming on his face as your lidded eyes met his “Then why did I feel you clench at my words, huh? Like – ah – like that sweetness? You like when I’m mean to you, don’t you? I told you, you would love how I would sound.”
All you could was keen, brain turning hazy at the sensations he was overloading you with. He was leading you back to that cliff, and you wanted nothing more than to fall over it once again as you brought your legs to lock around his back as you babbled out strings of pleas for him to keep going.
 “Yeah, you’re gonna cum again? I can feel it, sweetness, your walls milking my cock.” Bakugou grunted when he felt one of your hands tug the hair at the base of his neck “Come on then, cum. Cum all over my fat cock, milk it – come on!”
He took your hand away from his hair, clasping it into his as he lowered his body onto yours; entwining your fingers together as he continued to say filthy words to help bring you over that edge. When you felt his pelvis rub so deliciously over your clit you couldn’t help but be sent over the edge; pulling him even closer as your body shook at the powerful release.
Bakugou groaned, quickly following suit when he felt your walls clamp down on him. Unable to stop himself from painting your insides white, with rope after rope of his seed, as he bit another mark onto your neck.
You let the moments pass, let it go by serenely as you basked in each other’s afterglow. Not wanting to leave one another so quickly after such an event. You wanted to hold him close as your heart slowly started to beat at a normal rate, and Bakugou wanted to do the same.
Though, once his cock had softened, he felt it was time to get you both cleaned up. And with a soft hiss as he left your warmth, he slowly lifted himself from your warm embrace; suddenly feeling cold even with the fire next to him.
“Be right back.” He mumbled as he got to his feet, not bothering to hide his body like you were as he walked to where his washing room was.
You took this moment to sit up, wincing at the soreness that now encompassed your lower half, as you searched for your shift; wanting to cover yourself, if only slightly. That’s when you found your small leather pouch, the one that contained all the valuables you thought to take with you.
Around the drawstring of the bag, helping to keep the thing closed, was your family heirloom. A giant sapphire broach that was surrounded by silver in an intricate design; a pattern that was designated to your family only. It was invaluable. And you thought that if Bakugou was kind enough to leave you a memento, you should do the same.
You clutched the item to your chest when you heard him step back into the room, washcloth in hand. You continued to hold it close to you, hiding it away, as he tenderly cleaned between your legs and the now dried blood at your hips. A kind gesture that made you relax once more into his touch.
He crawled up your body once more to place a soft kiss on your lips as his arms wrapped securely around you. You yelped when he picked you up, head spinning from suddenly being off the ground. He chuckled at your reaction, it only increased when you scolded him.
He led you to his bed and allowed you to get yourself comfortable before joining you. His heart thumping in his chest, and his tail annoyingly wagging, when you moved yourself to snuggle into his side. Your hands softly wandered over the muscles on his chest, as you gazed up at him once more; a small smile formed on your face.
“Here,” You whispered, holding your trinket out to him, waiting for him to take it. You relished in the soft, gingerly, touch he gave your hand before grabbing hold of your treasure.
“What is this?” He asked, voice still dark and raspy as he inspected it further in the moonlight.
“My family broach. It’s invaluable, probably worth a lot of money.” You explained, rubbing small circles with your fingertips on the skin of his collar bone “It was what you wanted to take when you first saw me. And though you can’t steal me away, you can steal this. As something to remember me by.”
You meant it as a joke, light humor to help ease yourself into more mirthful humor rather than one of sadness over what was to transpire once you woke. You snuggled yourself deeper into the blankets, into his embrace as you placed your head on his chest. The lull of slumber began to swiftly overtake you.
Bakugou couldn’t follow suit though. Couldn’t stop his mind from racing as he looked at the broach. The more he thought about it, as he now looked down on your slumbering face, how sweet and perfect you looked under the moonlight rays, the more he realized that he wanted to keep you. So maybe, just maybe, he would steal you away from them after all.
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babyjakes · 1 year ago
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flamingo pink.
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event | kinkmas 2023
prompt | pet play
pairing | daddy!ari levinson x puppy!reader
warnings | ddlg and pet play elements (daddy!ari and sort of little? puppy!reader.) brief mentions of ownership; reader wears a collar. unprotected sex- vaginal and anal penetration. mild clit play (mild for me anyway lol.) nipple play for like one (1) second. finger sucking. squirting (and he comes in her ass!) a little bit of crying. teasing. some mocking/humiliation. some dumbification. lots of praise/encouragement. beginnings of aftercare.
word count | 1,006
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an | hi sluts, welcome to kinkmas 2023!! i'm so super excited to be running this event, i've already put in a lot of work on these pieces and i'm really hoping you'll all enjoy them <3 as a quick note, if you haven't already, make sure to check out the event masterlist (linked above) to see the list of prompts i'll be writing for this month! i tried to pick mostly new ideas and concepts, hopefully there'll be something to fit everyone's taste!! hope you all like day 1 with big strong daddy!ari and his little baby puppy! also yes there are 1989tv references bc this is MY kinkmas and I MAKE THE RULES hehe :))
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Clink clink.
The rattling sound of your custom-fit collar's tiny tag could barely be heard over your and your daddy's mix of heavy breathing. Large hands gripping your ankles, Ari had your legs bent up at an obscene angle as you lay on your back against the soft white bedding below. "Fuck, puppy. Look so pretty, takin' all of me like this. What a good girl," you were melting into the towering man's touch as he brought up a few rough fingers to caress your cheek, warm with wanting.
Ari's gaze traveled over your glistening body, spread out perfectly before him like a feast to be devoured. The glimmering shine of your gold tag caught his eye, eliciting a deep groan from within him as he brought his hand down to gently turn over the small, heart-shaped plate against your neck. "All fuckin' mine," he all but growled as the pads of his fingers traced over the letters that spelled out his initials. It was more than a symbol of love; it carried a heavier weight- ownership.
He rutted up harder into you, his punishing pace drawing tears from your eyes as his gaze settled back on your precious features. "Baby," he murmured, softening slightly at the sight of your tears. "Bein' such a good little pup for me, c'mon- show me you can take it. Are you gonna be good and take Daddy's dick?"
You were gasping as he thrust up against your sweet spot repeatedly, the sensation of him stretching you open causing goosebumps to prickle up along the back of your neck. You shivered, trying to construct an acceptable response. Smiling at the sight of you being fucked stupid, your loving daddy helped you by bringing his hand back up to cup your cheek and jaw, his thumb slipping in between your glossy pink lips as he forced out a nod from you. "Good girl," he crooned as you mindlessly nursed his thick digit, your tongue rolling sloppily around its tip as he tightened his grip on you. "That's it, baby. Just let Daddy do all the thinkin'. Nothin' but a dumb little puppy for Daddy to play with- isn't that right? You're my pretty little puppy?"
You didn't need his help to nod this time, your eyelashes batting so sweetly as his grin spread further across his face. When he slowed the movement of his hips, you were a bit confused as Ari pulled out of you, bringing his hands down to guide the tip of his massive length to trail cruelly over your messy folds. You let out the cutest little whine, your thighs flailing weakly as he bumped himself right up against your puffy button.
"I know baby, I know," your daddy hummed, wanting to draw out his teasing as much as he could force himself to. "Just wanna take my time with you, sweetheart. You're such a pretty little puppy, you know that?" He brought a hungry hand up to paw at one of your breasts as it sat so perfectly beneath the flimsy fuchsia lace he had dressed you up in. Pinching and rolling your hardened nipple through the sheer fabric, he chuckled as you squirmed softly under his touch. "My perfect little pup, so pretty in pink. Makin' it hard for me to control myself, baby. S'hard to be gentle with you when you're this fuckin' cute."
When you felt his smooth tip nudging up against your smaller hole, you let out a squeak in surprise; being the good daddy he was, Ari was quick to reassure you. "Don't worry, pretty girl. Daddy won't make it hurt, just relax..." His fingers collected plenty of your wetness, dragging it down to prep his length for you. "Deep breath, angel. There," he gasped along with you as the head of his member pushed past your tight ring of flesh, the intrusion burning deep in your tummy.
"That's my good girl," Ari kept praising you proudly as he gradually worked you open, only giving you as much as you could handle. One of his thumbs came up to brush over your swollen clit, the pad of his skilled finger tracing circles over the hardened nub as a way to soothe the heat of the stretch. "You gonna be a good little pup and take all of me, princess? Gonna let me ruin this tight little bottom? Fuck-"
"D-Daddy," you mumbled, your gaze growing hazy as the pressure in your tummy expanded. Nearing the brink himself, Ari knew the signs of your impending orgasm like the back of his hand.
"C'mon, puppy. Give it to me." Forehead drenched in sweat, the man furrowed his brow harshly in concentration as he flicked his thumb faster over your aching button. "Come for Daddy, baby. Come for me, shit, that's it-" Like waves colliding, your climaxes both hit at once, glorious and gruesome in the way they made your bodies explode in tandem. As your high squirted out forcefully against the large man's front, his heavy release was shooting up into you, filling you with an indescribable warmth.
Seconds passed that felt like minutes. When your eyes finally fluttered open again, your legs were trembling uselessly off to either side of you as your chest rose and fell sporadically. You felt something leaving you, the harsh tug on your sensitive walls pulling a diminished cry from your hoarse throat.
"Shhh," your daddy's familiar voice soothed, a gentle hand rubbing careful circles on your knee. "I'm here, baby. Daddy's here. You did so well." In an instant, he was collecting you in his arms. He moved you away from the edge of the bed, propping you up against a few pillows as his lips came down to press against your dampened forehead.
"Now you just wait here, sweetheart. Daddy's gonna go get a rag to clean you up. Just close your eyes, baby. There," seeing your exhaustion, he didn't want to make you lift a single finger. "Daddy's here, angel. Daddy'll take care of you."
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joffyworld · 29 days ago
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A Celebration
I wanted to make this post as a post-October celebration of my experiences here.
You've all been amazing. Each and every one of you. To anyone who ever sees this, consider us friends and kindred spirits. I mean that from the bottom of my heart, Joffy is a friend to all! I understand some fear para-sociality, and rightly so. I know it's a bit of a dirty word, but while I may never know you in real life, while I may always be a stranger on the internet, that does not preclude kindness from our times here. You are all people, as am I, and there is no illusion of the opposite on my end.
I came into this community just a month ago, driven almost purely by an obsession with the TROD au written by the amazing @bamsara. Since then, I have fallen in love with so many AU's, so many fics, so many oneshots, and so many pieces that I never would have found otherwise, from the horrific cannibalistic nightmares of @teruuu and @yellowflowrs, to the cute and joyous wonders of artists like @junoberrii, @the-artist-grimm, @spiderin-space, @zynical-forg , @7-ferrets-in-a-coat, @cconfusedkat, @frecktheheck, @lagomorphics and @lil-vibes to the beautifully shameless smut and humour of @melle-d, the wonderous fantastical realms of artists like @aychama, @aniimoni and @stychu-stych and the incredibly well written and crushing experiences of writers such as @kiko---random-stuff-probably, @olrinarts and @alllgator-blood. It has all been an incredible experience to watch, every single shade and genre of art and creativity, and I wouldn't have it any other way! I never expected to have so much fun, so much joy, and such a range of emotions all at once, yet here we are!
My welcome into this community has been astonishing. The kindness, the warmth, the laughs, the tears, the silliness, the naughtiness, the evil, the good. It's all been such a wonder to behold. That's not even mentioning the activism, the understanding and the fundraising I've seen with my own eyes! You've all bred a community of love here, and each and every one of you should be proud of that.
Every mutual I make, I am reminded that kindness breeds kindness. When I started this blog, my only wish was to indulge my madness until it passed, to see if maybe instead of suppressing my own interests, indulging them could perhaps instead lead to a less anxious conclusion? I had often been consumed with anxiety as I fought to pretend I was "normal" and it's always been a tough thing for me. By God has being here helped.
I have embraced who I am as a person, I have learnt things about communities I knew nothing about. I've grown empathies for groups I once found hard to relate to, I've felt joy and comfort from strangers where the world has oft left me dejected. I've met so many people similar to me, completely different from me, and all that lies in-between.
I have met the most beautiful souls in the world, I've seen works of art that made me marvel them as though they were classics of antiquity. I've engaged in silly debates, I've interacted with people I look up to so deeply, I've seen talents I didn't know exist. Most of all, I have found a community that understands me, from the autistic and disabled to the regularly deranged and beautifully obsessed <3
And all of this has inspired me to write my own content, to indulge my own mind in ways I have long tried to leave behind, and find my own stride among the crowd of similarly inspired people. To say the words of you people have changed me is to lie, because it doesn't even begin to describe it.
To anyone I haven't directly @'d, I apologise. I wish I could plug you all, but my memory is fragile, and I'm on the mobile app. But know, that whoever you are, friend or foe, you are ASTONISHING. And should I wake up and remember your names, I'd gladly add them with your permissions. There's not a single person I've seen that hasn't amazed me in brand new ways each time, and every time I compliment your works I mean it from the bottom of my soul.
And to anyone who reads this, whether they be an artist, writer, creator of any stripe, or simply a friendly face or a lurking presence in the shadows:
Thank You,
Thank You So Much,
Joffy
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gurugirl · 2 years ago
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Gurugirl's Wattpad & Tumblr Fic Recs
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Anything you read in these masterlists won’t disappoint but I’ve picked my absolute favorites from each blog and listed below.
NOTE: I did my best to include all my faves here but I've probably forgotten a few. I intend to add to this list (may need to make a part 2 once I hit my mentions and link limits) because I'm always reading new fics so come back often!
Angst recs (all taken from list below but specific to the more angsty ones)
Daddy kink
Enemies to lovers
Summer vibes & party fics
Personal faves from my own writings
Other blogs I love
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@1d1195
One Shot: Right Here: one bed, nightmares, enemies to lovers, hurt/comfort, childhood "friendship," coworker Harry, grumpy/sunshine (I'll let you guess who's who), etc. etc. etc.
@a-strange-familiar
Series: His Memories (3 parts): you and Harry broke up few months back but still love each other. And after all these months you see him again in a party. All memories you tried to push back in your head came back with a powerful speed.
@adorebeaa
One shot: Undo Me: YN reveals a kink in front of best friend!Harry, who is curious…
@awideworldoffanfics
Series: Milking the Grip (5 parts): Harry Styles is a single dad who golfs every Tuesday. Y/N is his babysitter who also happens to work at the golf course he goes to. They’ve never run into each other there. Until they do.
@be-with-me-so-happily
Series: My Way Back Home: YN is left to figure out what to do when the love of her life, Harry, does not remember loving her. (AU)
Series: Don't Worry Darling: Y/N has her first big break as an actress as she lands the leading role in 'Don't Worry Darling'. The only problem is that her co-star is Harry Styles, who she feels has a very big ego. Tensions rise the more they film. All kinds of tension...
One Shot: Friendly Favor: When YN's best friend Harry asks for a favor, she knows it'll be difficult, but she loves him too much to say no. However, it's a dumb plan, and those usually don't end how you think they will.
Series: Laceleaf: Gemma is definitely Cassidy James' favourite Styles family member, considering they are best friends and all. And especially considering that Harry Styles is Gemma's smug and self-centered younger brother. Her life isn't perfect, and neither is she, but she knows for a fact that anything involving Harry gets messy.
@bopbopstyles
Masterlist (anything you pick here will be a pleasure - seriously)
@fkinavocado
Series: Daddy Issues: in which you’ve got textbook daddy issues and when your tool of a younger brother brings a sweet doe eyed girlfriend home for Thanksgiving and you end up offering her a ride home, you meet just the man to fix them. (daddy!harry, dilf!harry)
Series: Hard Candy: in which Harry owns a candy store and he just loves giving good girls special treats… especially after closing time (candyman!Harry)
One Shots & Blurbs: Long Hair Harry One Shots & Blurbs
@freedomfireflies
Series: Playboy: Welcome to 1965, where the women are loose, and the morals are looser. Here you'll meet Michelle and Harry. You don't need to know too much about them. Just that they're both incredibly bold...and incredibly jealous. The summer of June 1965 was a rather wild one for the Playboy Bunnies but even more wild for our two dear friends. Stick around and I'm sure they'll be happy to tell you all about it. You just have to promise one little thing... Don't tell Hefner.
Series: Teach Me: 5 parts - Harry needs a little practice in the art of Eating Pussy, and who better to ask for help than his best friend?
Series: Mafia!harry: 2 parts so far - more to come - Your mafia boss boyfriend, Harry, has been a little neglectful of his most prized possession. But he's found the perfect way to make it right. Exhibition kink!!
@goldenbuckyyy
Series: Illicit Affairs: A series of events between your affair with Harry. (Cheating together)
@harryistheonlyoneforme
One Shot: Little Freak: pairing: dbf harry x reader (so hot - so many kinks all in one little shot - must read)
@harrywritingsbyme
Sneaking Around (a series of shorts): Best friends dad - FUCKING HOT
@helladirections
Series: Brother's Best Friend: Harry is YN’s brother’s best friend, and YN isn’t a little kid anymore. Ft. dom/sub, rough sex, and soft words. 
One Shot: Under Summer Skies: Harry and YN are longtime best friends back for another summer as the Dream Team on staff. Featuring getting called out by 12 year olds, two dumb best friends who can’t see what’s right in front of them, and lots of stargazing.
One Shot: Moka Pot: Do you think you can maybe do y/n and Harry having a slow morning routine? Like drinking tea together, doing skin together, basically just doing everything together? 
@itslottiehere
One Shot: I Don't Want to Hear About Him (angsty): bff!harry writes a song about bff!reader.. and her boyfriend.
@jawllines
Harry is Y/n's Criminology Instructor (2 parts)
Harry is a single dad and y/n is surprisingly good at babysitting (2 parts)
Harry & y/n are witches, they hate eachother, and something's coming (3 parts)
Y/n knows something she shouldn't and Harry does what on Fridays? (4 parts) - Boxer!harry
Harry is a grumpy mechanic and y/n just can't stop talking (4 parts)
@jarofstyles
King of the Jungle (multi part series): Y/N’s family works for a wildlife preservation society and Harry is king of the jungle or tarzan!harry
Lone Wolf (multi part series): Harry is a grumpy alpha who has given up on finding his mate or werewolf!harry
Beauty & the Beast (multi part series): Harry is a moody, withdrawn but successful creature who needs a companion who can tend to his… needs.
@lemoncrushh
Series: The Entertainer: Set in the 70s, Sky Jones meets Harry Styles, an up and coming musician and soon-to-be rockstar. The Entertainer Part II
One Shot: Dressing For Revenge: Still heartbroken from finding your ex cheating on you, you go to a nightclub with your friend Kelsie, where not only do you run into your ex, but also a handsome gentleman who’s willing to help you get over him. Part II
@lukesaprince
Series: Intruder: You were an outside hire for a promotion Harry wanted, and he despises you for it. The hatred is mutual since Harry is a bit of an asshole, until the day of an important presentation where the tension is finally dealt with - A very steamy enemies to lovers romance (domrry)
Series: The Roommate Series: After Y/N’s best friend and roommate Alex decides to move out, she’s desperate for someone to take her place. Alex seems to have found the solution in a British fresh-to-New-York musician who ticks all the boxes. He just happens to be insanely attractive and charismatic… what could go wrong? (friends to lovers)
Series: Fratboy!harry You Can Pretend All You Want: You hate fratboys and everything they stand for, so you decide to prove one wrong by sleeping with him… safe to say it backfires (fratboy!harry, enemies to lovers).
Series: Rich: Neighbour/Older!Harry. A Summer dogsitting job for Mr. Styles is a dream come true for any broke uni student. He's rich, gorgeous and finally fucks you after your weekly dinner together. A series that follows two neighbours who end up in a sexual relationship.
@moonchildstyles
Series: Aster: Harry is a tattoo artist and y/n just wants to know if he's like this all the time or if he just doesn't like her. tattoo artist!harry / lhh!harry
Series: Citrine: Harry's a witch and it's been along time since since he's been around anyone new, but there's no way he was getting y/n out of his head. witch!harry
Series: Chiaroscuro: y/n needed a job but this place is strange and the owner is even stranger. vampire!harry
Series: Prosecco: Harry is just on the edge of 30 and y/n is someone he's sure he shouldn't get involved with. until she seeks him out anyway, and he realizes no one has ever really shown her how she should be treated. older!harry
@0oolookitsme
One Shot: Dazzled: In which Harry has an uneasy feeling about Y/n’s new mission but the devil ignores his guts’ screams. But the vampire as well as his fiancé, Y/n, isn’t dumb and is quick to listen and take some weight off of his shoulders. They both soon find out, why, he was feeling uneasy. 
One Shot: Anything For You... And I: SMUTTY!!!! Dwd!Harry x Dwd-Character!Y/n
@0nlythrowharrybeaux
Friends Share (2 parts):Harry & Y/N have been practically perfect roommates for several years but the appearance of a hot new neighbor creates an unexpected shift in their relationship.
Unavailable (2 parts): Y/N has a very specific preference for unavailable/inappropriate people and Harry is her therapist who is supposed to help her work through this.
@pleasingforharry
Moans & Elevator Music (2 parts): Y/N is in a rush for an interview at her new job, but her luck gives out when the elevators shut down due to a sudden power outage. At least she isn’t alone.
@purplekiwis
Breaking the Ice (2 parts): Hockey!Harry x Skater!Y/N It’s no secret that as a figure skater, you’re fed up with the local hockey team being treated like royalty… and your ex’s status as a player isn’t helping much either.
In the Witching Hours (will be 3 parts): Wizard!Harry x Witch!Y/N; Soulmates AU An emergency admission to the hospital gives rise to a series of strange events but luckily, there’s a cute, shy wizard around…
One shot: Tentmate: Friends With Benefits Y/N has always hated camping… until her and Harry got stuck together in the same tent. (This one is smutty AF)
@s-brant
Series: The Getaway Car: In a drug deal gone wrong, Y/N, daughter to a famous racecar driver, finds herself behind the wheel of a car with a gun to her head. A masked man named Harry demands she helps him evade the authorities, so she does the only thing she knows how to. She drives.
One Shot: Midas Touch: The night before they leave to spend Christmas with his family, a conversation with their friends makes Harry and Y/N confront the future of their marriage.
@stylesloveclub
Series: Pleasing: In which y/n is a broke waitress, and Harry is a Michelin star chef who thinks she’s cuter than a puppy. 
@swiftmendeshoran
Series: Curvy Secret/No More Secrets Daddy: Dad's best friend (dbf!) Harry x plus size reader
@watchmegetobsessed
Series: The Sun Will Rise: You’re glad to be back at college and away from your family. Everything is back to its normal, but you have a little issue: you told your family you’d bring a date to your sister’s wedding, but you have no actual partner. An unexpected deal is made with the person you couldn’t even consider to be your friend: Harry can take the spare room in your apartment for the semester if he’ll be your date for the wedding. But can you actually live together with a guy who obviously dislikes you and you have no idea why? Can you fool your parents into thinking you’re dating Harry? And what will they think about him? Nothing is ever good enough to them, nothing that’s not as perfect as your sister, Alice.
Series: Wildest Fantasies: You’ve been struggling to finish your assignment for Professor Styles’ Creative Writing class. Inspiration is seem to be avoiding you, so to relieve some stress, you mess around with your roommates and write a rather dirty fiction of the hot professor everyone is into on campus. Due to a fatal mistake however, you end up uploading the wrong file as your attachment to your assignment and your wildest fantasies end up in the hands of the person they are about.
Good Girl (Part 2): sugardaddy!Harry / CEO!Harry x Reader
@writerpetals (writes optional male lead smut but you can easily imagine any male *coughharrycough* as the males are described as tall, well-built, with a nice head of hair - read anything this author writes - it's good, you will find almost any trope - ENJOY)
One Shot: Lakeside: werewolf!au, werewolf x reader
@zayndrivesmeinvain
Series (wip): The One That Got Away: In which Harry and Alena were college sweethearts, however, all of that has changed and the only thing keeping in contact is the fact that they have a child together. Is it possible for them to even get to a normal standing friendship or is that long gone? dadrry x oc | single dad!harry
i hit my link limits so was unable to insert link to part one of their series. check out their masterlist and you'll find it!
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Wattpad
_miiki
Series: Artwork & Aquarelle: "Sierra, you go with Harry Styles." I raised up my head at the words, giving my teacher an incredulous glance. "Do I really have to?" Was the only thing I managed to say. The teacher gave me an annoyed look. "Did you not understand? You go with Harry Styles." I turned my head to look at him. At the mention of his name he glanced up, and if his green eyes hadn't frozen me in place already, the unimpressed look he gave me would've done it right away.
Aggressivelyfriendly = @aggresivelyfriendly
Series: Who Names the Colors: In the last year, Joanne Smith Giles, has once again become Jo Smith. In another heartbreaking turn of events, she's also the single mother of an infant, again. She knows she can do this on her own, and better at 40 than 19, but it seems weird to be launching a son into manhood, a new career as an art professor, and changing nappies all in one day. She is so thankful when Ethan, her boy, comes home from Uni. Jo could use the help. His best friend, Harry, comes round too. And his launch into manhood may be another heartbreaking turn, for all of them
ErinAlterEgo = @yourwattpadmom
Series: Late night Talking: Alex is craving something at night, and it's not ice cream. Encouraged by her husband to explore a polyamory relationship to meet some of her more....eclectic tastes, she finds herself on a dating app for the first time in her life. She expected maybe some interesting experiences, possibly her first one-night stand ever. She didn't expect to meet a man who made her question everything about herself. Harry is on a new path in his life that is exciting and different than he ever could have imagined. He's looking for excitement, experiences, but definitely not love and attachment. When he meets Alex, he sees a whole new path that he's unsure he wants to go down, but finds it hard to resist.
Hitterj (love all of her stuff!)
Series: All This Time: The coming-of-age story of Harry and Riley who have known each other for years, but never actually knew each other. They've spent countless nights at the same parties, shared a few drinks and glances, they're even on track to graduate top of their class. What happens when out of nowhere they start to connect? Like an invisible string pulls them together, so they can experience life and love and heartbreak. Riley and Harry learn a lot about themselves, and ultimately have to choose what's best for their future no matter how difficult that can be. But does love find a way? After all this time?
Series: Kiwi: If you don't know about this one by now... go read it - super duper smutty and sweet and angsty
Series: Sweet Little Lies: All her life, Ivy Malone has known what her family was. She grew up in the deep, unforgiving world of the mob. Ivy hates her position in life, knowing that her life was never fully hers. Harry Styles was cold. He trusted almost no one, especially his family. He had learned quickly that everyone was waiting for him to fail... to fall. An empire built by his father from the blood and bones of those who stepped in his way was all he had, no matter how much he hated it. He had no choice but to carry on the legacy. And marrying Malone's daughter was the next step in fortifying their defense. With new rivals making a move for power and a mysterious figure haunting the crime families of Queenstown, Ivy and Harry have to learn to live together. A bad start leads them down a tumultuous, passionate, and downright dangerous path, but maybe they were exactly what the other needed to live the life they always craved.
MysteryMixtapes (Just go read all their stuff)
Series: Stall & Stall 2: Violence/gangs/dark
Series: Perspective: Have you ever met someone that made falling feel like flying?
Series: Unforgettable: "If it feels so right, how can it be wrong?"
Peanutboyfriend (read all of Birdie's stuff - you won't regret it)
Series: Aerial: In Malibu, California in 1965, a surfer and world-famous aerialist undergoes a chain of comedic and not-so-comedic mishaps that force him to re-evaluate who he is.
Petit_cerise
Series: Devil's Due & Devil's Desire: Harry Styles, the brooding and intolerable tattoo parlour owner, meets River, a stubborn and somewhat oblivious girl, who just doesn't understand the reasoning behind his nefarious ways but is determined to find out. River comes to realize that Harry's hiding something much deeper than expected... only once those secrets come to the surface, it's too late to turn back.
Sunflowersnstuff
Series: One Word & Wonderland: We're all mad here, it's Wonderland.
ThousandYearsOfHope
Series: Lonely Nights: Willow Mackey is a quiet girl, but she is fiercely loyal and will never lie to you. Harry Styles is her brother's best friend, and someone she'll always have a soft spot for. Grown up and no longer shielded by their ages, lines start to blur, and mistakes keep being made. For the first time in her life, Willow realises that sometimes, the truth is too painful to hear. But how could she ever say no to the one person that's always understood her better than she understands herself?
Series: Pretty Boy: One night of impulse shouldn't lead to much for Joni Lewis, but when she meets the alluring Harry Styles, an opportunity arises that she can't ignore. A Harry Styles short story inspired by Pretty Woman.
Writhali (I really like everything I've read by Thali)
Series: Ambit: Gangs/violence/action/SMUT - "Hell's boring, Birdie." He claims, that cold, dead stare back to his eyes. "And this, this is what I call a Monday night."
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itsbeeble · 1 year ago
Note
I saw your post about having Bang Chan brain rot and honestly, same. He has filled every waking thought I've had for the last year and I'm big mad over it.
So my fic rec is a little angsty/suggestive with him being as obsessed with y/n as we all are with him. Like, he's angry that he can't focus on work because he's too busy thinking about them but can't have them for whatever reason. All the features he possesses that we love that he can't see in himself are exactly what draws him to y/n. (I feel like crushing on Chan is an exercise in learning to love yourself, and that's a lesson he needs to learn as well).
WHY WOULD YOU SAY THIS TO ME I LITERALLY FELL TO THE FLOOR WHEN I FIRST SAW IT (that first statement is so real actually)
OBSESSIVE
Summary: Chan has always been obsessed with you, but he's been too afraid to act on it until now.
Genre: Angst, fluff
Pairing: bestfriend!Bang Chan x (implied)fem!reader
Warnings: a little angsty but mostly fluff, hurt/comfort, suggestive, some uhhh sexual themes but there's no actual smut or anything, small make out scene teehee, swearing, insecurities briefly mentioned, I think that's it
WC: 2462
18+ MDNI, AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED
A/N: guys look it didn't take me 10 years to post! Also i'm gonna add to my masterlist a "Brainrot" section bc i'm not officially gonna write for certain groups but fuck do i get brainrot
~
Chan is restless in his studio, staring at the walls in front of him unable to focus. He can’t get his brain to work, to think, to do something. 
It’s your fault. He knows it’s your fault, but he can’t figure out why. Had you said something to him? Had you done something? 
No. The answer is no, you hadn’t done anything to him. At least not technically. 
In fact, it’s more him that's the problem.
It’s almost unhealthy the way he’s obsessed with you. Unhealthy and almost annoying considering that you hardly ever give him the light of day. 
Chan adores you. Adores the way you don’t care about what anyone else thinks of you, the way you laugh too loudly, the way your nose crinkles when you smile, and the way you can hold conversations so easily. He adores the way you never seem to care about looking put together, dressing in whatever you find comfortable that day, and somehow still looking beautiful. 
He doesn’t think he’s ever felt this way about anyone before. He hates the swirling in his stomach, the way his heart beats faster, and the way he can always tell when you’re close to him whether you want him to know or not. Chan can always tell from the smell of your perfume, that sweet, subtle scent you’ve worn since the day you met him in your days as trainees. 
These emotions…he shouldn’t be feeling them. Not about you, his best friend. His confidant. The one person he can trust to always be there for him, for everything. He’s tried so hard to will these emotions away, to force himself to like other people. He’s tried hookups, blind dates, dating apps. He’s tried imagining it was his grandmother instead of you whenever his thoughts dive into dangerous territory. 
And no, the grandmother thoughts didn’t work. His thoughts kept returning to you, how you would look under him. How you would look with your hair splayed out, your hand cupping his cheeks, and your lips sending him the sweet smile that you seem to reserve for him.
Fuck, he’s doing it again.
Chan takes a deep breath, sipping at the day-old water and grimacing at the stale taste in his mouth. His computer screen is still blank, the screen off from the time he’s spent staring into space and thinking of you. 
A knock on the door and then you’re slipping in quietly with a plastic go-cup filled with iced coffee. 
“Hey.”
Your greeting is simple, but you flash that smile and Chan’s heart starts doing flips. He hates it. He hates that you make him feel this way, hates that he gets nervous whenever you’re around. 
He feels you at his side, your arm on the back of his chair, fingertips brushing against his shoulder and sending jolts of electricity down his spine. He turns his head, angling his neck to look up at you. 
You with your calm eyes, with your gentle brushes against his skin, and the way you somehow soothe the storm that you caused inside of him. 
The cup in your hand is angled toward him, and he shakes his head.
“You shouldn’t be drinking that, you know,” it’s almost instinctive how he scolds you, a frown on his face when you just roll your eyes and pull the cup away from him. “Especially right now. You should be asleep, Y/N.” 
“So should you,” you hum, rolling your shoulders back and wincing when something cracks. 
“I’m working.” He nods his head at the computer, and you raise an eyebrow at the black screen.
“I can see that. Working very hard, just like you always are.”
Your hand raises to his head, ruffling the soft strands of hair. Chan clicks his tongue and pulls away from you. Your hand drops down to your side, and your small drops slightly. Barely noticeable, but enough for Chan to feel a pang in his chest. He rolls his chair back slightly, spinning it to face you. You pull a chair up, sitting directly across from him, and delicately place your coffee in an empty space on his crowded desk. 
Chan feels your knees brush against his, and heat scorches his body again. Why do you do this to him? Is it on purpose? Do you know he loves you more than a best friend should?
“Are you okay, Channie?” You lean toward him, the open part of your button-down shirt dipping to expose more skin. You would think he’s never been around a woman before.
He clears his throat, tries to look at you, and then clears his throat again. You’re biting at your lip now your eyebrows furrowed together in thought. 
He leans away from you when you lean toward him. Your knees are between his thighs now, unbeknownst to you but he is all too aware of it. You rise from your chair, coming closer to him and standing between his legs. One of his hands twitches, fighting to raise just a little bit to touch the side of your leg. 
“You seem a little feverish,” your hand is cold against his skin, and he almost chokes on the air he’d been struggling to inhale without the sweet scent of you overpowering his lungs and making him do unthinkable things. Your lips are twisted into a pout, your hand moving to his forehead and then his cheek. 
It takes Chan a moment to realize that he’s grabbed your wrist. 
It takes another moment for him to realize that his lips are against the back of your hand. 
Another moment and you haven’t pushed him away. Is it shock? Are you too disgusted to do anything? Fuck, why did he have to do that?
“Y/N—” he’s stumbling over his words, trying to grasp any thought that runs through his brain. An apology, hopefully. “I’m so— I didn’t mean—” 
Your lips are on his before he can say another word. It was a quick, fleeting kiss. Heat of the moment, maybe. 
You pull back, just far enough to look him in the eyes. 
Chan opens his mouth, ready to speak again.
The door slams shut. The space you stood in is empty. Chan’s heart sinks to his stomach, his skin still warm where you touched him.
“Fuck”
~
It’s three days before Chan hears from or sees you. Three days of absolute radio silence. No one forcing him to stop working, to look away from the screen and lay on the couch for a while. No wild laughter, random coffee dates. Nothing, and he knows why.
He knows you’ve been avoiding him. It’s not that difficult to figure it out. Whatever happened that night…it scared both of you. What frustrates him isn’t the subtle rejection. No, he could never be mad at you for that. He loves you too much to be angry about that. 
No, he’s mad about the fact that you’re running from this. You who regularly gets into heated arguments with the staff when they’re working him and the other members too hard. You who always accepts when you’re in the wrong, actively seeking a solution. You who has never had problems with communicating your emotions. He’s angry that the one time he needs you to communicate with him, you disappear. Now, after three days of you avoiding him, he isn’t quite sure he wants to see you anymore. He wouldn’t have minded if you told him you hated him for what happened.
Radio silence is…quite possibly the last thing he expected.
A knock on his door jolts him out of his thoughts. Three raps, then two, and the door opens. He knows it’s you by the shuffling of your feet against the ground and the sound of ice against plastic. You come to stand near him. Not next to him, no, it’s like you can sense the anger in him.
Or you can hear the angry typing. 
“What are you working on?” Your voice is quiet, so quiet that he almost doesn’t catch it. 
He doesn’t respond, at least not at first. The typing doesn’t slow, and he hears a small exhale from you. 
“Chan?” Your hand comes to rest on his shoulder and the typing stops. You drop your hand to your side, biting your tongue and forcing the tears back. “Channie, can you please talk to me?” He turns to look at you, trying to hold back all of the emotions he’s been feeling these past three days. 
“About what?” He plays dumb. Maybe if he acts like nothing happened, you’ll just drop it and you can start avoiding each other and he can move on from you. 
“About…about what happened.” Your voice shakes, and he almost feels bad. 
Scratch that, he does feel bad. 
“I don’t think there’s much to talk about.” Chan dismisses, “You made it clear how you feel and that’s fine. We can forget about it.” He avoids your gaze now, but he hears a sniffle coming from you. Hears a sob that you made a poor attempt at concealing. He looks at you again, and your hand is over your mouth while you try to calm yourself. He bites the side of his tongue, closing his eyes and exhaling heavily. 
“Come here,” he raises his hand and lazily beckons you over to him. You don’t move at first, still focused on calming yourself. “Y/N, come here.” 
Your steps are slow, almost nervous about approaching him, and suddenly all the anger is washed away from Chan’s body. All he can think about is the fact that he’s made you cry, made you upset, and he wants to fix it. 
“Why are you crying, pretty?” You’re standing in front of him, all too similarly to three days ago. Your cup has been placed to the side again, next to his keyboard, and your hands are in his. 
“I feel like…” your voice is thick with emotion, tears rolling down your cheeks that Chan wants nothing more than to kiss away. “I feel like I messed everything up.”
“How could you possibly think that?” Your best friend frowns. 
“I— I kissed you.” Your sentences are stuttered. “I fe—feel like I me—messed everyth—everything up. You— You’re my bes—best friend, Channie.” 
“Look at me,” he holds his hand to your chin, tilting your head to look down at him. “You did nothing wrong. In case you forgot, I kissed you first.”
“But that was diffe—different!” You cry, yanking your hands out of his grip and turning your back on him. Chan rises from his chair, carefully watching your movements. “I kissed you!” 
He’s curious now. “Do you think I hate you because of that?” 
You turn around, and a gasp escapes you. He’s only a few inches from you, his breath kissing your cheeks. You can see a dark tinge on his tanned skin. Was he blushing? Was he mad? 
“I— I mean—” Chan steps toward you again, practically backing you into the wall.
“Because you’d be wrong,” he continues. “In fact, it’s probably made me even worse.” 
What? “Chan— what does that—”
“I’ve been obsessed with you from the day that I met you, Y/N.” Here goes nothing. Chan takes a deep breath before continuing. “Everything you do, everything you say. I’m addicted to you. You know, I couldn’t tell at first if I envied you. It was the way you carried yourself, the confidence you had in every little thing. The way you fought so hard for the things that you loved and the people you cared about. I thought I envied the way you could laugh as loud as you wanted without fearing what other people thought of you.” 
You’re against the wall now, but he hasn’t caged you in. No, he leaves you room to escape should you so choose. Your tears have stopped and Chan reaches up to cup your cheeks, wiping away the streaks that were left. 
“I was wrong.” His voice is so quiet, so much quieter than he probably intended it to be, but it has a zoo erupting in your stomach. “It wasn’t envy.”
“Then what was it?” Your voice matches his in volume, your eyes flicking from his lips and back up to meet his gaze. He takes a deep breath, relishing in the feeling of your cold hands twisting into the fabric of his shirt, your knuckles brushing against the skin of his stomach. “Channie?” 
The way you said his name should’ve been innocent. It should have just grabbed his attention, snapped him out of the spell you’ve cast on him. 
The air is knocked out of your chest at the first touch of his lips on yours. It isn’t rough, not by any means. 
His lips move smoothly against yours, slow and sure of every move he wants to make as if he’s always going to be two steps ahead of you. One of his hands slides down to cup the back of your head, right at the base to allow him to angle your head and pull your body closer to his. Your hands have tightened into his cotton t-shirt, holding so tightly you’re positive the fabric has stretched. 
Your chest is on fire, whether from lack of breath or the emotions running through you like wildfire, you aren’t sure, but you don’t want to stop. You can’t stop. Not when he tastes so good, not when he’s kissing you like there’s nothing else he’d rather be doing. 
A whine escapes you, and you feel his body go rigid. His lips stop moving, and he pulls back from you. You see his chest stuttering as he tries to stop himself from taking deep breaths. He doesn’t say anything, and neither do you for a long time. 
You don’t have to, though. The drawings he traces into your hip with his finger and the hazy, starstruck look in his eye says enough.
His eyes meet yours when you clear your throat to get his attention. 
“So,” your voice is slightly hoarse but you can’t find yourself caring. Not in front of Chan. “You never answered my question.” He bends down, his lips lightly pressing into the skin of your neck. Your breathing hitches, and you feel him smile against you. 
“What question was that?” He asks, and his voice is right in your ear, and you can’t help but pull him closer to you.
“What was it that you felt?” 
He just laughs against you, finally taking his hand out of your hair. 
“You know what it was, pretty. Don’t pretend.”
You smile, your arm coming to wrap around the back of his neck. 
Love. It was love, and you knew it the whole time.
442 notes · View notes
linawritestwst · 1 year ago
Text
him taking care of you + you taking care of him (gn!reader)
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(divider link)
characters: riddle rosehearts, ruggie bucchi, jamil viper, epel felmier, lilia vanrouge, silver, neige leblanche, rollo flamme.
genre: fluff, hurt/comfort
warnings: none
hi hi!! so, uh, yeah, i'm trying to write something for this blog again. i don't think i'll open my requests anytime soon tbh, i kinda want to focus on writing self-indulgent stuff rn.
so yeah, hope you enjoy these! <3 i've tried to make them as soft and cute as possible.
riddle rosehearts.
him taking care of you:
♡ riddle is a busy man, that's for sure, but that doesn't mean he doesn't care about you or that he doesn't have any time for you at all. he loves you and if he could, he would spend as much time with you as possible, but.. you know how responsible and strict he is. but again, it doesn't mean that he cares about the queen of hearts' rules more than you.. t-though it may seem like that sometimes.
♡ if he notices that you're not feeling well, like for example, maybe you're sick, he will worry about you a lot. maybe it's not that noticeable to you, but everyone else can see just how much riddle cares about you and wants you to get better. if riddle has a lot of work to do and he can't check up on you, he may ask trey for help, since he's his vice dorm leader, though he will feel terrible about it: riddle would much rather do all of that himself. he knows that maybe it'd be a more logical decision to send trey to take care of you while he tries to do everything as fast as he can so that he can visit you later, but for some reason.. no, it's obvious that riddle really wants to be there for you. 
♡ if you're not doing well mentally, even though riddle is not good at giving emotional support and understanding other people's feelings, he still wants to be there and support you. if there's something bothering you, he will listen and he will try his best to come up with the best way to solve your problem. he prefers to think about such things logically and if the voices in your head are being too loud and mean, maybe his voice can help you feel a bit lighter.
you taking care of him:
♡ riddle tries his best to work on his temper, he really does. but of course, he still can't control his anger sometimes. maybe it's because of someone breaking a rule again. maybe it's because of his mother hurting him with her words again. maybe it's because everything is just.. too much for him and he feels overwhelmed even though he'd rather deny it and say that he's fine, because what else could you possibly expect from a dorm leader? and when that happens, you are here to gently calm him down or let him express his frustration and anger, it really depends on what would be better for him at the moment.
♡ if it's the first one, you hold riddle in your arms and softly tell him to take deep breaths, in and out. you slowly pat his head as he does so and you can feel just how fast his heart is beating. his face starts feeling a bit less hot, he finally remembers where he is and what's going on and his anger goes away, even if it's just for a moment. and if it does come back, you still stay with him no matter what. you know that riddle doesn't want to hurt you and if he mentions feeling ashamed and being afraid of doing something bad to you in this state, you hold his hand and tell him that you trust him.  
♡ if it's the second one, you and riddle go to his room and you just let him do whatever he needs to let his feelings out. of course, there are some limits and exceptions and you make sure riddle doesn't accidentally hurt himself in the process or hurt anyone that dares to come in. when he finally feels a bit calmer and looks around while breathing heavily and trying to process everything, you ask him what he needs right now. does he want to be left alone? does he want you to hug him? you make sure riddle feels safe and doesn't worry about anything. if he broke something in the process.. well, he can probably just use magic to fix it, right?
ruggie bucchi.
him taking care of you:
♡ if you ever say that you feel like a burden to him, ruggie doesn't want to hear it. why? because he would always choose taking care of you over doing stuff for leona. he doesn't care about you not looking perfect today and he won't care about it tomorrow or any other day. when he hears about what you're going through, you blaming yourself for not having any energy to get out of bed or take care of your appearance, sounds so.. weird to him. how can you still say that you're the one in the wrong in this situation? he just sighs, shakes his head and ruffles your hair while saying that you should be grateful for him being here for you. he's not being serious, of course. 
♡ if you don't have any energy to do chores or you're sick, he's totally okay with doing them for you. if you say anything about feeling guilty or if he hears you trying to offer your help, he doesn't let you finish. he's doing it not because he's your servant or because he owes you something. he just loves you a lot and wants you to know that. and if making your day a little bit easier is what he can do to show his love for you, he's more than okay with doing exactly that.
♡ he can't say that he's good at giving advice or understanding other people's emotions or anything like that, but if you need to vent, go on, he'll listen. he will nod, he will act surprised, he will make funny (and not really) comments, because even if he doesn't know how to solve your problem and even if he doesn't know how to show that he cares, he wants you to know that at times like these, you can still ask him for help and support. you've saved him so many times before and you don't even know about it. let him do the same for you just as many times as you did.
you taking care of him:
♡ ruggie may act like he has a lot of requests and that he can never be satisfied, but actually, he doesn't need as much as he likes to say he does. you buying him some donuts or giving him headpats always does the trick. you still love spoiling him though and if he's tired, you're always okay with letting him lie on your lap and talk to you or just take a nap, if he wants. you like buying him gifts even if he doesn't ask for anything, you love to see his reactions too much. he always gets shocked at first, but then he gets so excited, you can't help but smile because of how cute he is.
♡ you always notice if something is wrong and if ruggie is not feeling so good, you're always there to ask what happened and help him in any way you can. honestly, you're so good at noticing him try to hide his feelings, it scares him actually. he wishes he was better at fooling you and making you believe that everything is alright, but.. of course, ruggie has his problems too. of course, his life is hard too. but you being there to listen or to just give him the tightest and warmest hug that you can give him is everything that he needs at moments like these.
♡ if ruggie needs to let his feelings out, you'll be there and support him. you'll listen to everything he has to say. if he tries to laugh it off or says that it's actually not that serious, you give him the look that lets him know that you won't let him run away so easily and he has no choice but to admit that he's been not doing great. even if it's just him being tired from running around and doing errands, you still listen to his every word and make sure ruggie knows that you care. because you know that even something as small as this can make ruggie's day or maybe his entire week.
jamil viper.
him taking care of you:
♡ jamil knows how hard it can be sometimes, so if you're having any problems, if you're going through something really bad, you can rely on him. no, you are not being annoying, that's kalim's job. you can just sit down and talk about everything that's been going on while he makes you some warm tea, but still listens to you and nods and tells you to continue. even if you cry, even if you show how angry you are, he'll listen. if you can't hold back your tears, he will hold you as you cry while telling you that it's okay. and no, he doesn't mean it in a "everything will be okay" kind of way. he can't make promises like that. but he means it in a "it's okay for you to cry and be honest with me and show your vulnerable side to me because i promise that i won't hurt you and i won't betray you" kind of way.
♡ and he really does mean it. sure, jamil is.. u-uh, not perfect. but when he says that he will never betray you, that he will never stab you in the back, that he will never use you, he means it. when it comes to doing those things to other people to protect you though- okay, okay, fine, he'll stop himself there. however, he still often feels like he has to hide some things from you because he doesn't want to worry you or make you feel sad. but he still expects you to always tell him if you need his help or if you've been struggling lately. yes, he knows it's selfish. please forgive him for that.
♡ jamil is very patient with you. you're not a burden to him. you're not a nuisance. if you think he's being too quiet while you vent to him, it's not because he doesn't care, but because he wants to let you express your feelings, because he knows how often you tend to bottle them up. your every word matters to him and he wants to hear about everything that's been bothering you. he'll try his best to come up with a solution and give you some kind of advice. if he can't do that, well.. maybe he can at least keep you company, if you're okay with that?
you taking care of him:
♡ you know that jamil can get so, so tired of everything. and you can't even blame him. you understand him so well. so you just want to be there for him when things get rough. when he feels like he can't control his feelings anymore, when he's tired of pretending like everything's fine, when he feels like nobody will ever notice or truly appreciate his efforts, you gently put your hand on his shoulder and remind him that you care. if no one else does, at least you care. and that's already enough for him, because you are the most precious person in this world to him.
♡ jamil doesn't even have to say anything. if he doesn't have the energy for that, you're completely fine with it. you can just sit next to him with your head on his shoulder and you both don't have to talk. this silence isn't scary, it isn't weird, it isn't uncomfortable. and if he wants to talk about his feelings, you'd love to hear it. he can talk about whatever he wants as you carefully unbraid his hair and nod and react to everything. he doesn't have to apologize for his ranting, it's just him expressing his feelings and why should he be sorry for that?
♡ if jamil is angry, you'll let him be angry. if jamil is sad, you'll let him be sad. he never has to pretend to be someone else when he's with you. he doesn't have to pretend that he's better than he is. and he doesn't have to pretend that he's worse. you still love him no matter what. simply because jamil is.. jamil. and you don't need him to be anyone else. if he doesn't want to do anything special or productive today, that's fine. if he kinda wants to show off and impress you, that's also fine. and even though, of course, you want jamil to be happy, it doesn't mean that you stop loving him when he shows a negative emotion. because that's still him. and you love him. 
epel felmier.
him taking care of you:
♡ oh? you don't feel so good?.. okay, who should he punch for making you feel bad? hm? it's not someone else's fault?.. o-okay then. epel is not exactly an expert when it comes to mental health problems, but if you just need him to be there and support you, he'll be more than happy to do just that. if you have the energy for it, you two can take a walk and just enjoy the sunlight, the warmth or the cool breeze, depending on the weather. you two can lie on the ground and just watch the clouds as epel points at some of them and tells you what they remind him of. you don't have to say anything, if you don't want to. but epel still hopes that you will let him know if he's doing a good job. 
♡ you know what, he doesn't care what vil has planned for today. you're not feeling good? it's your day now. epel will literally figh his dorm leader if he has to. he just wants to spend this day with you, trying to cheer you up and nothing and nobody will stand in his way.. at least he hopes so. he's okay with doing anything you want. you don't feel like leaving your room? that's fine, he'll bring some snacks and you two can just chill while he's hugging you. you don't feel loved enough? he'll shower your whole face in kisses and will hug you as tight as he can. you don't have the energy to do anything? that's fine, stuff like that happens. just tell him if you need anything. 
♡ i imagine epel to be a very physically affectionate type of person when it comes to people he loves, so be ready for many hugs, cuddles and kisses. he just has so much love for you inside and he has to express it somehow, otherwise he'll.. uh, explode or something, haha. but seriously, he wants you to feel as safe and comfortable with him as he does when he's with you. with you, epel feels like he can actually be himself, like you won't judge him and you don't have any high expectations for him. so please, let him repay everything that you've done for him. no matter how tired, sick, sad or angry you are, he still wants to be with you and tell you that those feelings are valid.
you taking care of him:
♡ epel doesn't really like admitting that he's not doing good. i mean.. isn't talking about your feelings kind of.. like, won't he look weak- okay, okay, stop pinching his cheeks, he understands, feelings and emotions have no gender, he gets it. fine, he'll be more open about it.. but only if you hug him, give him a kiss and tell him that everything will be alright! also, give him a lot of compliments. he really needs them. tell him that he's strong, tell him that he's the best boyfriend you could ever wish for, tell him just how happy he makes you. even if those compliments don't sound that special, they mean the world to him. 
♡ every single word you say means so much to him. even if it's just you telling him that he did a good job, when he's with others, he will blush and politely thank you, and when it's just you two, he will tease you about it and ask you to do it again, but you have no idea how many times he will repeat those words in his head during the day and before he goes to sleep. and if you hug him, hold his hand or kiss him, it will be even harder for him to stop thinking about it. 
♡ if he's suddenly being clingy or asking for affection for (seemingly) no reason, you can take it as a sign that something is wrong. also take it as a sign to give epel what he needs. kiss him on the forehead. hold his hands as tight as you can. give him the warmest hug that you ever gave him. even if he pretends that he actually doesn't like it or that you're being way too affectionate, don't stop. don't listen to him. give him even more attention actually. and of course, asking him what happened is good too. let him talk. let him rant about how annoying vil is, how tired he is of pomefiore or just whatever is going on in his life. he'll thank you later.
lilia vanrouge.
him taking care of you:
♡ OHHHHH HE WILL TAKE CARE OF YOU. HE WILL. THIS IS A THREAT BTW. this man sees that you're not doing great and he asks you "what's wrong honey :( no, no, don't scream, this is just me-" as he's hanging from the ceiling as usual. if he sees that you're sick or just really, really tired, that's it, you will spend the whole day in your bed with as many blankets as you want. you have no choice. you need some warm tea/coffee/milk/anything else? he will bring it to you, just tell him. oh, he can also cook for you, if you want- oh, you're not hungry. oh. oh okay.
♡ but lilia really does make sure you don't waste your energy on things that he can help you with. if you don't feel like you can stand up to get something, just ask him for help and he will bring it to you. you actually don't even have to tell him anything. somehow he just knows what you need even if you don't say a word. he will fix your pillow if you don't feel like it's comfortable, he will bring you another blanket if you still feel cold and if you're sick, he will bring you the medicine you need. if you're having trouble falling asleep, he's always happy to sing you a lullaby and calm you down with his voice.
♡ if you say anything about feeling like a burden to him, he will stop you before you say anything else. he wants you to know that being able to take care of you makes him so happy because he can show you just how much he loves you and he can give you all the love you gave to him. you just can't be a burden to him because he loves helping you and he loves being there for you. you're not too much. and you're not too little. it doesn't matter how weak you think you are, because lilia will give you all the strength you need to go through the day simply because he loves you.
you taking care of him:
♡ you know that lilia's memory is not that good because of him being older than he looks, so you make sure to leave lots of notes for him in case he forgets something. and he appreciates it greatly. he loves seeing those notes because it's your handwriting!! he doesn't care how messy or how imperfect it is. it's yours and that's enough to make him happy. they're always so cute too! you also like to tease lilia about having to help him walk somewhere while calling him a grandpa and he laughs and plays along. you two literally look like the "sure grandma let's get you to bed" meme when you do that.
♡ on a more serious note, you also remind lilia that he really is a good father to silver. he's doing a great job actually. silver loves him just as much as lilia loves him, if not more. and lilia is a good person. why? well, he just has to take a look around. he just has to look at malleus, silver and sebek. lilia is an extremely important person to them and for a good reason. he plays such a big role in the diasomnia family and it's hard to imagine what could've happened to these boys if he wasn't there to guide them and support them. and he's doing the same thing for you now. and you feel loved and cared for when he's around. you're sure those boys feel the same way.
♡ you have so much love inside your heart and you will give it all to lilia if he needs it. if he feels like he's not good enough, if he feels like he's not doing enough, if he feels like he hasn't changed for the better, you will be there to tell him that he is so much better than he thinks he is. he has saved so many people, including you. maybe he's just so used to doing stuff like that that he doesn't even notice it and doesn't think too much about it. but lilia has changed so many people's lives. and you're here to change his life too. hopefully, for the better.
silver.
him taking care of you:
♡ silver loves you so much and he wants you to know that. even if he's slow, even if he falls asleep at the worst possible timing, even if he gets tired easily, he still wants to be able to protect you and help you with anything you need help with. just tell him or explain it to him and he will nod and immediately try his best to do it. he would do anything for you and he means it. maybe he's not that good with words and he's a little quiet, but he really will try so hard to express his feelings properly. if you're sick, he will get you anything you might need. if you're tired, he will help you with doing anything you don't have the energy to do yourself. he just wants to help you, please, let him do so.
♡ if he sees you falling asleep while doing something, he will gently carry you in his arms to your bed or the nearest couch and he will cover you with a blanket, making sure you don't get cold. he will softly get your hair out of your face and make sure you're comfortable before smiling at you (and not even noticing it) and sitting down somewhere so that he can watch you (not in a creepy way though! he just wants to make sure you're safe!). a-ah, he can fall asleep too though.. b-but he'll try his best to stay awake! he won't let anything bad happen to you, he promises. 
♡ please don't think that silver sees you as someone weak and fragile because he's so worried about your safety. he just loves you a lot and.. and he doesn't want to lose you. you're so precious and so important to him and he doesn't know how to express it and what to do with his feelings because they're so new to him, so.. just tell him if he's being annoying or too overprotective, okay? he respects your boundaries and if you think he's overstepping, let him know, he would never want to hurt you. 
you taking care of him:
♡ you don't find silver's sleepiness to be annoying at all. if anything, you'd say that it's kinda cute, but you totally understand why silver would worry so much because of it. you just want him to know that you still love him and that you would never hate him for falling asleep while you talk to him or anything like that. if silver has trouble waking up in the morning, you can just come to his room and wake him up if he wants, haha. o-oh, he would actually love that? okay then, you will be the first thing he sees in the morning from now on.
♡ if silver is blaming himself for his sleepiness and calling himself lazy, you will stop him before he says more bad stuff about himself. you can't just let your boyfriend do that. you know how hardworking, brave, strong and responsible silver is, there are just some things that he can't control and that's okay, that's normal, he just has to accept it no matter how painful, scary and frustrating that might be. if he needs to talk about it, you'll be there to listen. he always was there for you to listen to you talk about the things you love, talk about your day or just rant about stuff, now it's your turn to do the same for him.
♡ you're just as patient with silver as he is patient with you. and you know that even if he's a knight in training, he also needs and deserves to be protected. if you see anyone (subtly or not so) making fun of silver, you won't hesitate to call them out or even try to fight them. you also don't let people take advantage of him taking things a bit too literally and kind of living in his own world and being a more quiet and introverted person. this man is a knight, but he's still soft and gentle and deserves to be taken care of.
neige leblanche.
him taking care of you:
♡ this boy will do anything to make you happy!! he might have a busy schedule and he might have lots and lots of fans following him around everywhere, but you're still so, so important to him! just tell him what you need, okay? if you feel like you need more physical affection, he will give you as many hugs and kisses as you want. if you feel like you need some distraction from your problems, you two can go on a nice date to any place you want. or you can just leave the choice to neige if you don't know where you want to go! though he will still talk to you about it first, because even though making it a surprise sounds nice in theory, he still wants to make sure you're okay with it. and if you just need to spend some time with your boyfriend in silence, he will be more than happy to just sit with you while hugging you and not even saying anything. just being here with you is enough.
♡ if you're too tired and/or sleepy, he will get you the softest and warmest blanket and if you want, he can sing you something to help you fall asleep, again, just tell him. oh, he can also bring you a stuffed animal, if you want! if you want to cuddle, he's all for it too. he just wants you to feel safe and comfortable enough to fall asleep without any worries. even if you still have something to do, even if there's still too many dark thoughts in your head, neige just hopes he can help you forget about it at least for a moment. you getting rest is more important right now.
♡ neige would never let you think that his job is more important to him or that he loves his fans more than you. it's true, he really does love his fans no matter what and he's passionate about acting and modelling, but you are still that person that he cares about the most. there are so many things and people in this life that he loves, but to be honest, he'd probably be okay with losing some of them, but you are definitely not one of them. so let him express his love for you, okay? you deserve it. no matter how much you think you're not enough for neige, you deserve it.
you taking care of him:
♡ neige gives you so much love and affection, sometimes you feel like you don't give him enough of it back. so when you and neige can finally spend some time together, you give him as many hugs and kisses as you can and it's hard for you to let him go even for a moment. you just missed him so much.. the way you spend time together depends on how high neige's energy level is at the moment and yours as well. if it's been a long day of filming and no matter how much neige tries to hide it, his smile looks a little bit tired, you two can just spend the evening lying on the couch and talking about whatever comes to mind. and if both of you feel like it, you can try to bake something together or just dance together in your bedroom. 
♡ even if neige looks fine, you can still tell if something is bothering him and you encourage him to be more honest about it. he doesn't have to pretend that everything is fine, he doesn't have to smile all the time, at least he can be honest with you. you agree that neige is insanely talented and that he deserves all his popularity, but you love him not only for that, you love him for what kind of person he is. and he doesn't have to continue acting when it's just you two. so even if it's something small and not that serious, he can tell you. you two can just laugh about it later or actually try to solve that problem together. 
♡ if you find out that some fans of his have been acting weird in some way, like maybe they've been asking him if he has a s/o way too many times or even if they've been stalking him, you won't hesitate to do something about it. you will try to go and meet them in person, if you have to. you try not to let neige know about it because you don't want him to worry and because you know that he can be a little bit.. he forgives his fans too easily. you think him loving them so much is admirable, but also, you just really want him to be safe. you want to protect him. you know that some fans just.. don't know what privacy and personal space is. 
rollo flamme.
him taking care of you: 
♡ even if rollo may seem like a cold and emotionless person to some people, you know very well that it's not true at all and that he cares so much. if he sees that you're even a little bit tired, he will gently (but firmly) ask you to take a break. if you want, he can help you with whatever you're working on once he's free. as a student council president, he knows what it's like to have a lot of things to do and feel like you have to finish all of it as soon as you can, but it doesn't mean that he will let you overwork yourself. and if you're the opposite and you tend to procrastinate very often or you can be very forgetful, rollo will remind you that you have things to do and will try to motivate you to do them. most of the time it's just him saying that those things are important and you will most likely regret not doing them earlier- n-no, y/n, a kiss is not a proper way to motivate someone.
♡ rollo is not really good with words, it's true that he is good at things like public speaking and stuff like that or manipulating people into thinking that he's a totally normal person who is not planning to steal their magic but it's fine it's whatever, but when it comes to having actual genuine conversations, he is.. not sure what to do. however, if he notices that you're not doing good mentally, you can always tell him what's on your mind. he won't insist on it though and he thinks you should tell him about it only if you're comfortable with it. but if you do, you can trust him, he will listen to you very carefully and will never interrupt. 
♡ rollo isn't really the type to give you emotional support, but i also can't say that he's the member of the "would rather give you an advice/suggest ways to solve your problem" gang. he's more subtle about it. you know what? he'd rather solve your problem himself. or at least try to make it feel easier and not as overwhelming and tiring. you feel like your schedule is a mess and you don't have time to do anything? he will come up with different ways for you to organize everything and when you wake up, you will already have multiple different new schedules for you to choose from lying on your desk. wait, does that mean he has talked to the people who gave you so much work and- actually, maybe you shouldn't ask him that. someone has been too mean to you? well guess what, they'll be nothing but nice and polite to you now. oh, and if any magic user even tries to- okay. okay, sorry, y/n. sorry. 
you taking care of him:
♡ you honestly have no idea how rollo manages to do the student council work and take care of the belltower and its gargoyles and still pretend that everything is fine. no matter how much he tries to hide the fact that he's tired or claims that he's okay with it, you still ask him to take a break. and if he still insists that he has things to do.. man, and you were really hoping to take a nap with him while holding him and telling him that he's done well- oh? oh, he actually has some free time now? huh. interesting. well, what did you expect, this man is so touch-starved, it's insane. and it's also kinda cute to watch him try and pretend that he's not.
♡ you actually try to help rollo be more honest with his emotions. like, he has to be better than the overblot gang. and also.. it's probably for the best that we don't have another masquerade incident. so if you see that rollo is even a little bit annoyed, you still ask him what's wrong and even if he tries to cover his face expression with his handkerchief and says that it's nothing, you don't leave him alone until he confesses. and this isn't just about the negative emotions, if you see him try to hide his smile or his face that is becoming more red, you softly tell him to stop and look at you. you won't make fun of him and you won't think he's weird for expressing his emotions. you would love to see that side of him more often actually. 
♡ if rollo actually wants to talk to you about something that has been bothering him even without you noticing anything or asking him about it, you'd be so proud of him for opening up to you and you will try your best to listen to him and you will be as patient with him as possible. you know that he has a lot of problems and that his past was really sad and traumatic and even though you can't do anything to change his past, at least you can try to make the present better. if he wants to talk to you about his brother, if he wants to talk about his relationship with magic, if he wants to talk about anything, you'll be there, waiting for him. you won't leave him. you promise. 
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cripplecharacters · 1 month ago
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I've read the post about how arm prostheses are often more trouble than they're worth and it makes sense. My special interest fandom doesn't have robotics or magic anyway, so a prosthetic there would more or less amount to a stick with possibly a hook on the end, and I'm not trying to argue in favour of making anything more advanced than that here. What I would like to know is if the same practical considerations apply with someone who's lost BOTH hands or analogous gripping appendages. Is it worth it to go for the lightest and least clunky prosthetic possible or is it still easier to do everything with the mouth and/or feet? Does it vary depending on what one is doing, or how much of the arm is lost?
Hi!
[Please note, we don't currently have mods who are amputees; you can try checking with some of our recommended blogs from our navigation post, but I'm not familiar with any bilateral arm amputees doing writing advice on Tumblr.]
There is a lot of factors that would go into this, and the two you mentioned are absolutely important, but I'd say that age plays the biggest role. What I mean is how old the person was where they had their arms amputated, since that's where I generally see the biggest difference in prosthetic use.
For the following sections I'll presume a scenario where the person is financially able to buy prosthetics that would suit their body in the technical aspect and potential assistive devices to get them on etc. aren't a problem to acquire for them.
If someone loses their arms at 70, they're almost certainly going to be using prosthetics, at least part-time. They spent decades doing everything with their hands and probably have close to zero coordination necessary to do these tasks with their feet now, not to mention being in worse condition in general due to their age. Even if their prosthetics are the simplest hooks, they will probably give them more independence since at an older age and with no practice, using their legs would be out of the question and using stumps could be much harder for someone whose way less flexible and strong. This doesn't mean that all the cons of an arm prosthetic disappear, because they don't - in this scenario, it just means that the possible pros outweigh the cons.
If someone is born without their arms or loses them as a younger child, they're probably gonna wear prosthetics at first because their parents will want them to and will stop just as fast. Have you tried to put a shirt on a toddler? Now imagine trying to put two arms on them that they can't fully control. For someone younger they will just instinctively do things however they can, whether that would be by using residual limbs (more common if it's below the elbow) or feet (more common if above the elbow). There might be some tasks that might be impossible or very difficult to do without a prosthetic, and then the person might get a specialized one - Bebe Vio is a wheelchair fencer who uses an arm prosthetic to hold her foil because you can't really do that without one. Some instruments might also require the use of a prosthetic, but children generally tend to figure to do almost everything out with what they got. There are armless drummers and guitarists who play with their feet.
You can check this video out, it's by Isabelle Weall where she talks about why she chooses to not use prosthetics arms. Jessica Cox is one of the most famous people with no arms and she can do more or less everything - fly a plane, do karate, drive a car. Matt Stutzman is one of the best compound archers in the world and he doesn't use prosthetics either. All these people lost their arms young or were born without them.
Obviously a lot of people will be in the middle. That's where length of residual limbs will play a major role, but also people's lifestyle or what they do on the daily basis. If someone needs the tactile sensation to be able to do their job, they will probably prefer using their arm stumps or feet if the stumps are too short.
But if someone's stumps are too short, and they don't want or can't use their feet (it's not as easy as just starting to do stuff with your toes, it requires a ton of practice, flexibility, and patience) then they might go for prosthetics or a prosthetic, singular. Some people might find it easier to adapt to a body-powered prosthesis because to them the pros of one are more significant than the cons. I mean, not that many people have the flexibility alone needed to write with a pen with your foot, let alone coordination. They could wear a prosthesis when they know they'll be doing a lot of grabbing work because it's awkward for them to try doing it with their residual forearms and take it off to play with their dog because it feels nicer to pet it when you can feel it on your skin.
There is of course the situation where regardless of factors, neither option really works for someone. They might have minimal to no ability to actually use prosthetics (weakness, other disability), while their legs might be atrophied from the bedrest caused by the illness that required their arms to be amputated (or anything else that prevents them from using their legs). This person might rely on caregivers instead for a lot of tasks, and these people absolutely do exist. Sometimes it's a situation that happens right after the amputation and they later find something that works for them, but sometimes they might not. This is a possibility as well.
All these factors should be considered for a character, and then of course you have to factor in the character themselves - can they afford prosthetics? Do they have a way to learn how to use them effectively? Get them fixed and adjusted? If the learning process of using a prosthetic is frustrating to them, they might not want to use it at all, and if it comes easily to them they might be more inclined to do actually wear it.
Of course even if the pros-to-cons analysis decides that using prosthetics would be beneficial, the cons are still very much there. They're still heavy, with not the greatest dexterity, sometimes causing skin issues or muscle soreness. It takes a lot of work in occupational therapy to be proficient in using them. As long as you do research on the reality of using bilateral prosthetics (both negative and positive sides, which will be different for different people so you should get as many perspectives as you can) it's definitely okay to include them. There's no point in painting them as either magical tools that are just like regular arms or making them seem like they're completely useless pieces of junk - though they can be that for many, but for others they can also be what helps them live their life more fully, makes bringing groceries in easier, or just allows them to participate in that one hobby they do once a week.
And of course: when in doubt, have a range of disabled characters.
I hope this helps,
mod Sasza
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ambrosialdesire · 4 months ago
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Can I request yandere porco x reader who doesn't take him seriously/ isn't afraid of him or being bratty or whatever so he transforms to scare her
hellion
18+ DARK CONTENT BELOW, MINORS + BLANK BLOGS DNI
pairing: s4 porco x fem!reader word count: 5.9k warnings + tags: general yandere and obsessive themes, unhealthy relationships, past + current human-trafficking/purchase mentions, forced feminization/infantilization, stockholm syndrome development, forced proximity, torture/violence mentions (choking, starvation, drowning, tying up), drugging (sedation), prey & predator vibes, kinda psychological horror?, humiliation, slight praise, degradation, slight gaslighting, kinda mindbreaky, all characters are 18+ synopsis: you were an impulse purchase that he never thought he'd make before, and although he doesn't regret it, he's having a difficult time trying to soothe your feisty spirit. who knew that all it took was one transformation and a chase you'll never forget? a/n: i'm gonna be so fr idk how to write bratty characters LOL i rarely read bratty readers in general so i'm really free-balling this 💀 kinda simple and to the point compared to my other fics, esp since i've never wrote for porco before so this is like testing the waters and most likely SUPER ooc. it's also more of a psychological fic since i'm not in the mood of writing complete nsfw haha but i hope you enjoyed this anon! sorry it also took so long to be done but then took me like three days to make and edit 😅 (i still think it's a little sloppy, esp the end BUT that's what anon questions are for so i can sorta explain and piece it together more lol) again, hope y'all enjoy!! note: please keep in mind of the tags above and do not proceed if triggering or uncomfortable, especially if you are a minor!! do not read my or any other writers' dark content if you are underaged. this is a fictional work and does not reflect irl morals, do not believe this is how a real romance works or functions.
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚.───
He hated when you got like this, putting up a constant nonsensical fight against him.
You'd be a perfect candidate to be his successor from the way you bite down into his skin when he tried to touch you, scratching up his face when he got too close, and always almost managing to slip through his grasp to dash towards the open basement door before he tugged the chain wrapped around your throat back towards him, watching you bare your teeth at him angrily. You were truly a wild animal, that's why he chose you in the first place.
Porco wanted to tame this wild spirit of yours, simply for the fact to see if he could.
Little progress was made, he made your purchase not long ago in the slums of Liberio, where the truly wicked and evil roamed to sell and purchase anything deemed illegal by the Marleyan government. As much as he refused to take these kinds of assignments, preferring to be back on the battlefield with Zeke and Pieck, Porco was already in deep waters for fighting with Reiner again. Not his fault that the Vice Captain's face was so punchable. Thus, here he was, being forced to shut one of the operations down that was said to involve a human-trafficking ring. Down he went alone in disguise, shuffling through the disgusting sweaty bodies of devil scum drooling over a piece of fresh meat on the stage.
He remembered got a good view of the bidding, eyeing each fearful chained-up person with boredom until you were pulled up. God, you really were the star of the stage. Two burly men had to tug your fighting body onto the crumbling wooden stage, a mixed sound of what could be a snarl and screech emerging through your cracked and bruised lips as you refused to move any further. You put up a good fight against the henchmen, the crowd jeering at the display of tug-o-war.
Once they managed to get you to the middle, the auctioneer started to ramble on about your pricing. Your hands may be wrapped in cloth and tied together, but the minute he neared you to show you off, you struck him with a mean uppercut, almost pouncing on him once he fell over before the two men held you back. Even then, you were thrashing around on your wounded feet, spitting out curses and howls at the fuckers beneath you, telling them that you'd hope they'd all burn and rot in hell.
He's the only one that snorted at that statement, feeling all eyes on him.
Porco really wasn't any different from those around him as he raised his hand up, offering over a thousand for the wild girl, more than what the other fucks around him could possibly afford. It won't make a dent in his bank account either because once he takes you home, the authorities would've already been called to the place. He gets to keep his money and you, while Marley gets rid of more scum; a two in one deal. You glared down at him, a burning fire settling deep within the darks of your pupils as he grinned back in return.
You were going to be a fun little purchase, that he's sure of.
He didn't really want to, but considering that you were a snappy little thing, you had to be down in the basement of his home until he managed to get your temper under control. The chain was long enough for you to reach the bathroom down there from the bed, but not long enough to reach the door. Once you managed to slightly calm down, realizing that your new "owner" was unfazed by your act as he leaned against the wall, you cautiously settled on the bed. You were still tense, unsure of what his intentions are.
"You got a name?" Porco started, finally breaking the silence as he crossed over his arms.
"You have my papers, don't you?" Your eyes squinted at him, the raspy retort coming quick out your mouth. He did, but he didn't bother looking at them just yet.
He scoffed, pushing himself off the wall, slowly stepping closer to you. "Snarky one, aren'tcha? Just tryna be a little civil here."
"Civility? Don't make me laugh. Buddy, you're the one that bought me. I think we both know that any sort of civility you had has been long gone the moment you raised your stinkin' fucking hand in the auction and brought me down here." If your temper wasn't enough indication of a need of reformation, your mouth definitely was.
"I'm surprised you even lasted that long in the slums with that tongue and attitude of yours, most would've been turned into chopped meat without even a second thought." You were about to say something back before he slammed his hand into your face, pushing your head into the bed and prying your mouth open with his fingers. A gurgle of a scream erupted out of your throat as you struggled to push him off you, but no dice.
"But I'm not like most. Me? I could crush your skull whenever I want, maybe slowly pull each of your limbs apart so you'll feel each tendon and ligament rip away from your sorry torso." Porco pushed harder until you got the message, silencing yourself as your face ached and throbbed from the pressure, yet your eyes still held that same vindictiveness from the auction that never seemed to quite be quenched. Your jaw abruptly closed around his fingers, a pained hiss slipping out of his lips as the pearly whites grinded into his skin.
He's going to relish seeing that light die from you, when you finally realize that he's the sole reason of your living, that you should've been grateful from the start that he's the one that bought you instead of the beer-gut ridden trash that wasted away in the slums.
Porco finally removed his hand out of your mouth, drool and teeth indentations staining his fingers. Light steam was coming off of them, the superficial wounds closing up. He knew you caught that, eyes focused on his hand.
"Now, get some rest. Training begins tomorrow."
‘•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’
When he said training, he meant torture.
That's what you thought as you experienced every debilitating and humiliating ritual he forced onto you every day. You eventually learned his name because of someone saying it upstairs — God you wished that the floors above were as soundproof as the basement's walls— Porco, but you called him 'piggy' sometimes, despite him trying to train you into saying sir. Simple, but it got him irritated real fast.
Porco was a strange man, you knew he was definitely not like the other men you've came across in your imprisoned life. Every wound you made on his person, no matter how deep you curled your nails into him or bite down as hard as you possibly could, he was left unblemished. Not even a fading scar or lasting indent, it was as if you've never injured him in the first place.
He bled, the taste of iron familiar on your tastebuds, but it really was like nothing occurred after a few minutes. You knew that he healed fast too, that weird steam came out of the wounds right after you inflicted it from what you could see with the lantern light, but you don't know why it did. Were you so out of touch from the outside for so long that new medical advancements were made?
He also disappeared for short periods of time, leaving you occasionally starving if he didn't leave enough food beforehand and surprisingly bored; he was really your only company nowadays, so it was quite frustrating to come to the conclusion that you'd even miss the bastard despite the shit he's made you go through. Once Porco came back though, he'd be a little nicer to you but that would last for roughly a week once you gotten sick of his company again.
He only sedated you when he needed your complete compliance or when he deemed you too much, your head rolling around weakly as he undresses and bathes you with him in the tub, the heightened sensation of calloused hands brushing against every inch of your skin. You may be out of it, but every other sensation was magnified. It was the only peace the two of you got with each other, even if you weren't a truly willing participant.
Porco was also quiet when it came to this activity, the steam and heat of the tub creating a slight flush on his tanned cheeks as he leaned back against the porcelain. His normally gelled-back blond hair would be damp and falling over his face, expression lax. You thought he was on the completely lankier side before since you rarely see him without the green coat, but no, he was quite muscular despite being pretty slender.
It made sense, he's lifted and thrown you like you weighed absolutely nothing, holding you down without much struggle, and letting you exhaust yourself while he looked completely normal.
He seemed disinterested in each other's nudity, though you did notice the first few times when he started the bathing routine that he took in every little detail of your body, eyes wandering more than usual. It's not like you could've stopped him and he never touched you sexually, only touching your privates to clean those areas. You've accidentally let out a quietly hitched breath here and there when he brushed those digits of his in-between your pussy, your drugged mind struggling to comprehend the feeling. You believed that he never noticed during those mishaps, not bothered in the slightest during it but whenever he got out of the tub first, it was pretty obvious he'd be partially aroused.
You wouldn't say that you were completely innocent in the act of staring at the other either, you've spotted his cock more than a few times and were slightly internally glad that he never took it for a spin against you. He must be a show-er more than a grower (if he was any lengthier hard, you might be in trouble), but he was notably bigger than the other disgusting men you've came across. Thank god for that, at least. It was finally nice looking at a man that wasn't built like a water buffalo in denial of balding and having the smallest dick around.
As time passed by, you feel like you confirmed your suspicions that he never really was interested in using you for any sexual needs, he was more into seeing how much it would take for you to break. Maybe he's done this to others to get his rocks off, but you'd never give into the sick man's perversions.
One thing that was prominent you've noticed while in his care was that he rarely made you do anything by yourself. He's the one that fed you with you on his lap, clothed you in stupidly feminine outfits from the start of the day to the night, bathed you alongside him. He cleaned and dressed any wounds you inflicted on yourself, but left surface scratches and bruises alone. Porco was in complete control and if you didn't let him take the reins, that's when the punishments rolled in.
Balancing books on your head as you stood on your tiptoes, if any of them fell or if you went back on your heels, he'd hit the back of your calves hard with a riding crop and restart the entire thing. Forcing your head over a bucket of freezing cold water, asking you difficult questions with no right answers to them, and pushing you down into it when you said anything that he didn't want to hear. He choked you out and left you intentionally starved for days when you refused to eat what he made, tied up and blindfolded in a tight closet with no indication of how long time had passed because you didn't want to wear what he chose, anything to ensure that you've learned your lesson.
You didn't, of course you never did. Whenever he asked if you had enough, you only just laughed at him and spat at his face, the punishments only ending once he got tired of it. Your stubborn attitude was the only thing keeping you sane in this world of yours.
No matter how much you were forced to endure endless embarrassment and shame, you'll never grovel or beg for mercy, not even shedding a tear for the agonizing pain you felt as you laid on the scratchy mattress every night. And besides, he wasn't the only one who tried and he most certainly would be the last once you figured out how to get out of here.
You felt a jab to your stomach, abruptly waking you from your short rest. The lights weren't even turned on, but even you knew that the next horrid day has just begun, a flashlight blinding you next.
"Morning sweetheart, you know what time it is? It's 3 in the morning, nice and early for our next session. Are you going to be good and let me put your outfit on?" The nicknames only started a few weeks ago, just because you were being obedient and compliant to his demands. It's to make you feel nice, to think that's what you should be doing to get on his good side.
Fuck, he's really insane.
Obviously since you were completely exhausted, you might as well let him take control again until you regained more strength. You nodded slowly, rubbing your eyes as he finally moved the light off of your eyes. He murmured something of a praise, stroking your head gently before going upstairs to retrieve the outfit. You sat there in silence, partially nodding off until you heard his footsteps near the door, body slightly stiffening.
You may not be outwardly afraid of him, but unconsciously, he made you become unintentionally afraid of the new fucked up punishments that he created. At a certain point in this life, it was undeniable not be terrified of something unexpected.
"A friend recommended this new place for women clothes since she noticed I've been in a good mood lately." Porco pushed the door open, a light pink babydoll dress in his hands. "Ain't it nice? Might be better than all the other ones I've put you in, the seamstress really has outdone herself, don't you think sweetie?"
Everything about it looked too short, ruffles and lace making most of the skirt and the sleeves overtly puffy. He may think he's putting you into something cute, but it was obviously something uncomfortable to wear. It's intentionally supposed to make you tick, you knew it was.
"It's..." You started, thinking about how to go around this without sounding offensive. "Pink."
He frowned, obviously expecting more from you but simply shook his head. Alright, that was a somewhat valid response.
"Still tired huh? Yes, most of your clothes are pink, but this one," He placed the dress next to you, along with the undergarments and shoes. "This one is for a special occasion."
Special occasion? A year must've already passed by since he purchased you, it wouldn't be all that surprising if he was celebrating that. You lifted your arms up and let him remove your nightgown, leaving you only in your underwear. Porco removed the dress from the hanger, turning towards you and pulling the dress over your head and arms, organizing it properly over your body.
Definitely too small now that you were wearing it, the bands around the arms making it feel like you were gonna lose circulation on them and your breasts nearly spilling out of the top of the dress, no matter how much he was adjusting it. The skirt was also way too revealing, just barely covering your panties but he soon tugged those off, putting on an even more scantily clad pair. He brushed out your hair, taking a few pieces and attaching a bow with it behind your head. The shoes were just simply white flats, the only part of the outfit that you had no problem with.
"There. Such a beautiful girl, wouldn't you agree?"
He cooed as he stood you up and dragged you to the bathroom, pulling off the drape that covered the mirror. You weren't allowed to use the mirror, that was what he said as one of the rules way back then. You didn't know why he asked that of you, but you've never seen yourself in years anyways, the details of your appearance foggy in each glimpse of a reflecting surface. The basement was dark too, the only sources of light being the flashlight or lanterns that Porco brings down here to see you. But this?
This was the first time you truly felt horrified at anything, bruises of varying colors littering around your skin, most prominently around your neck. You looked sickly, a pale complexion covering your skin, and bone-dead tired, eyebags weighing under your lower eyelids heavily. The only thing that looked decent on you was your brushed out hair and dress, despite how it squeezed at your almost feeble body.
"What... what did you do to me?" Your hands went over your face, feeling your very soul crumple into itself.
Porco snorted, his hand wrapping around your jaw and forcing you to look at the reflection. "Nothing. This is you, all you. The only thing I've done is the bruises but everything else is your fault."
You pushed him back, his body hitting the wooden door with a thud. Tears were starting to well up in your eyes since the first time in forever as you balled your fists at your side. You started wailing, curses slipping through your lips.
"Fuck you. Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you!"
"Y/N—" His tone was becoming angry, a warning.
Porco never said your name before.
You took off one of the flats and quickly threw it hard at the mirror, multiple fragments shattering off the wall. You grabbed the biggest piece that landed on the ground, feeling the palm of your hand cut open, warm blood spilling down your fingertips. Without a second thought, you lunged at your captor. Porco was stronger as he stopped you midway of your attack, but his hands slipped from the grip he had on your bloody hands and wrists, it was almost unnoticeable but not to you.
With the little strength you had left, you gave it your all, letting out a wrathful shriek as you jabbed the piece into his stomach, twisting it in as deeply as you could.
The world fell silent as you watched his blood seep through his shirt.
This was the first time you've looked into his eyes in the light and this close in general, the hazel color showing nothing but displeasure. You heaved slowly, taking in shaky breaths through your nose. Slowly, you released the shard and backed away from his still-standing body, the chain connected to you rattling along on the stony ground with your movements. Your eyes were still locked onto him, impatiently waiting for him to collapse so you can take the key out of his dying cold body.
Yet, that didn't happen.
"You're fucking pathetic, stupid even." Porco's hand reached for the mirror shard embedded in his gut, pulling it out with a slight hiss, as if it was nothing but a splinter. "If only, just only, you remembered that I can heal from any wound that your dumbass places on me, we wouldn't have this issue but I guess I gave your slow little brain one too many hits."
The steam was coming off of him again as he threw the bloody shard pack into the broken pile, your teeth baring at him.
"What the hell are you? Some kind of monster?" He laughed, pushing his hair back with blood, the red mixing in with the dark blond.
"Worse," Porco charged at you with inhumane speed, grabbing your throat and lifting you up in the air with one hand, your hands clawing at his forearm as black spots began to form in your vision. "I'm one of the worst monsters of them all. A Titan."
‘•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’
You awoke to find yourself in a forest.
Originally, you thought you died. It's been years since you've last seen the outside, even felt the wind's breeze go against your face and feel the rising sun's rays warm up your skin. Yet, as you opened your eyes, you reached out to the grass, feeling the smooth blades brush up against your fingers, you knew you were still alive.
Sitting up, you slowly took in the surrounding environment. Did Porco abandon you because he thought you were dead? A giddy feeling rose up from within, excited about the possibility of finally, finally having the freedom that you've desired for so long. You wobbly stood up, realizing that you were still in the outfit he made you wear, now stained with dried blood. Ugh, at least he should've had the decency to put you back in rags or something before dumping your 'corpse'.
How far were you from the nearest civilization? You'd be lucky if you managed to come across one before either dying of dehydration or starvation, hoping you'd run into an Eldian internment zone rather than a major Marleyan city. Maybe even dying here in the wilderness would be a better death than being around people again, considering that all of them would just disappoint you once more.
There was a sound of grass crunching, small branches breaking from behind you as footsteps drew closer.
"Awake aren't we?" Fuck. You turned around, seeing him standing back at a distance, still wearing his bloody clothes.
"I wish I wasn't now that I know you're here piggy. Goddamnit, why didn't you just fall over and die when I stabbed you?" You grumbled the last half, tugging at the bottom of the skirt dejectedly. From afar, you could imagine that his eyebrow was twitching in irritation once you mentioned the nickname.
"You're so annoying, you know that? It's been a year and no matter what I do to you, you still persist. Still convincing yourself that you can't be broken. You've really ran me dry to figure out what I can do to make that pretty little head internally pop, well, I got one more thing that'll make you finally listen to me." Porco fished out a small pocket knife out of his jacket, holding out his palm for you to see before he sliced the middle of it, blood immediately gushing out.
"I'll give you a 15 minute head start, timer starts when I transform. If you can hide or outrun me, I'll let you go free. No catches, you'll simply be free to walk among us again. But if I find and catch you," A cocky smile grew on his face, pointing the knife down at you. "You're going back to the fucking basement."
Wait. What does he mean by transform?
A flash of blinding lightning appeared abruptly right in front of you, gusts of wind nearly knocking you over. You covered your face to try and shield yourself from the sudden weather change onslaught, the sound of something crunching forming loud in your ears. The light finally faded away after a few minutes gone by, a huge shadow hovering over you instead. Hesitantly, you peered up out of your arms and gaped in horror as you stared at the monster in front of you.
Where Porco once stood, a bony skull-like faced Titan stood before you on all fours, a mane of familiar blonde hair wrapping around its head like a lion. It had a shorter and muscular stature than most Titans you've seen in books before your kidnapping, still towering over you but not as much as a normal Titan would. White-tipped claws on each of its digits were prominent on both its hands and feet, digging into the soft grassy ground beneath it.
What the fuck? What the fuck?! Your captor was the Jaw Titan user the entire time? Is that why he disappeared every now and then? Holy shit, you knew what the Jaw Titan user's dick looks like.
Its small hazel eyes glared down at you through the skull-like mask and you felt frozen to the spot, too afraid to make any move. Was he even still in control of himself in there? A guttural growl came out of it then, snapping you out of it.
Porco's waiting for you to move, he... he wants to chase you down. You have no other choice, and you'd rather put up another fight than to lay down belly-up.
You took off the other flat that still remained on your foot and threw it at the face of the creature, soon dashing as quickly as possible into the lush forest. In your head, you knew your outfit was going to be an immediate sore thumb in the surrounding greens and browns so you started to rip it apart as you ran, trying to scatter the pieces as much as you possibly could to throw off the trail. All you were left in was your thin underwear and even that was a risk to keep on, but it was all you had left to preserve the dignity you were barely holding onto.
As you ran, you felt every stray branch dig into your already-damaged skin and every breath you took in felt like needles in your nostrils. It was better than nothing, better than getting immediately caught by that thing. You don't know how much time has passed since you started running, all you knew was that you must've wasted precious seconds when you gawked at the atrocity of a Titan.
There was a whipping sound and then a thud, trees cracking and breaking behind you. The echo of birds flapping away from the source, cawing in alarm rang loudly in your ears and you felt immediate dread crawl up your spine. Your head start was up, he's coming.
You still ran as fast as you could despite the burning in your underused muscles, trying to find somewhere decent to hide in. An overgrowth, a bush, anything at this point. The sounds of whipping and cracking were getting closer and closer, panic bubbling in your stomach until you missed a step, falling over and knocking the wind out of yourself.
You cried out as quietly as possible once you got air back in your lungs, slowly sitting up with damp dirt clinging onto your bare skin. Taking a glance at the ledge you fell from, an idea popped in your mind. Underneath, it was wide enough to fit your body and deep enough for you to hide in, so long as you could cover yourself up with leaves and dirt. The sound of a gurgling snarl close by meant that you had little time to put your plan into action, and you grabbed the nearby shrubbery in handfuls, crawling into the space as fast as you could.
Laying on your back, your place the gathered materials on your body, completely covered from head to toe. You didn't know how it looked on the outside, but it had to be something that could be overlooked when he was searching around. It had to be because you were not going back, you refused to.
The close rumble of the ground almost had you scream out in terror, but you put your hands over your mouth as tightly as you could, your breaths shaky out of your nose. The thuds grew closer and closer, body jumping with each passing step, and then it stilled. You could slightly see what was going on outside, heart dropping when you immediately spotted him.
The Titan was just standing there, completely still besides his head moving around to scan the area. He must've figured out that your clothing trail had gone cold or that it was fake the entire time, but the one thing you knew was that he was quick to catch up either way. A hissing sound, almost sizzling, broke the silence. You watched as Porco's original body appear out of the creature's upper back, right near the neck.
What. The. Hell.
"You're here, aren't you?" His voice was calm, no hint of frustration or irritation. Porco had too much pride to proven wrong, he was confident that he tracked you in the right spot and you hate that he was correctly onto you.
"Your footsteps stopped not too far from here, y'know. You tryna hide now? Ran out of stamina? Twisted your ankle?"
You clenched your eyes tightly together, praying that he'll give up, that he won't find you. Never in your wretched life have prayed before, but you'd start worshipping the very god that'll manage to make sure that Porco won't look in this shallow cavern.
"Fine. If you don't want to reveal yourself—"
There was another sizzling sound, your eyes opening and seeing that he went back into the body, the creature beginning to move once more. The Titan then opened its bony maw, revealing a second pair of sharper teeth before an ear-bursting screech projected out of it, your hands shooting to your ears to try and cancel out the horrid sound. The scream kept wailing aloud like a never-ending storm alarm, your head beginning to ache. It felt like it was going to pop the longer it went on, tears forming at the corners of your eyes.
Stop it, stop it, stop it!
Silence.
There was a slight ringing in your ears, but the screaming was gone and when you looked out of your hidey-hole, he was no longer standing there. Did he actually give up? You stayed still in the divot, head throbbing and heart pounding against your ribcage. You'll even wait until the next morning if it meant for any kind of confirmation that he was gone.
Suddenly, a claw came down on the roof of your cavern, the sharp tips just barely missing your body. It ripped away the dirt and rock, the sunlight blinding you as you sputtered out the pieces that came down on your face from the removal. Complete fear radiated off your expression as its unnerving mask stared down at your trembling form. You... lost.
You think that its — his — eyes were gleaming with glee right now, seeing how pitiful you looked, filthy and damaged. His hand reached for you, body stiffening as the fingers curled around you, picking you out of the hole carefully. The body of the Titan slumped down and the same hissing sound came out of the back of it, Porco reappearing once more.
"Took me only 30 minutes to find you, what a pathetic attempt of a run," He insulted, leaning his body over the fuzzy head of the creature. "Though, I will have to give props to you with the hiding. I wouldn't have spotted you until you moved in the hole from the scream."
"P-please... make this th... thing stop touching me." You almost whispered, the coldness and rough texture of its grip tight around your body. You hated that you were directly forced to stare at it, its eyes blank but still glaring deep within your soul.
"You afraid of it? You scared of the big bad Titan?" Porco taunted, his arm slightly moving and the grip tightening around you even more. You let out a strangled cry, your breathing becoming erratic. The feeling of the jagged bones jutting into your flesh like squeezing a balloon to its limit, the imagery of your organs bursting out of you, began to make you hysterical.
"Please s-st... stop! P-please! I... I don't want to die! Porco, I'm begging you! Get me out!" You started sobbing, blobs of tears flowing down your cheeks. You hated him, but you hated this monster even more. To think that they were truly real, a true threat to your fragile existence, it was something that was horrifyingly difficult to mentally process.
Porco gawked at your sniveling body, not even trying to wiggle out of the Jaw Titan's hand but still crying out to him for his help. This is what he wanted right? To see you completely give up, to depend on his assistance, to save you. He felt so fuzzy and dizzy on the feeling, almost like he drank too much liquor. Just to play around with you a little more, his hand twitched, causing the Titan to squeeze you even more.
You screamed out in fear once the pressure got even more narrow, your cries resonating louder within the deep forest as you simultaneously begged him to stop. Aw, how adorable but alright, he's had his fun for the day. This might've gotten the message across, let's see how long it'll last or else he'll have to do this again and again if he had to.
"Will you finally listen to me?" He finally spoke up, your teary eyes immediately meeting his and nodding furiously without hesitation.
"Yes! Y-yes I will!"
"And what do I want to hear from you?" You sniffled, looking completely drained of all fight.
"I-I'm sorry... s... s-sir. I wo... won't ever do i-it again."
Porco thought he never felt such euphoria in his life until he heard your apology, a wickedly proud grin growing on his face. He pulled himself out of the Jaw Titan's back, watching the creature start to steam and deflate as he reached for you, peeling its fingers off of your body and helping you down. Unexpectedly, you latched onto Porco once you got on the ground, your arms wrapped around him tightly in a vice hug. You... never did that before.
"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" You repeated over and over again, your tears wetting his coat. "I won't fight you again, I-I promise sir."
His hand reached over to your head, light stroking the tangled strands as you trembled against his body. "That's what you get for being a bitchy brat, you don't want me to do it again right?"
You shook your head in response, gripping onto his clothes even tighter at the thought of being chased by that thing again.
"Then you gotta listen to me better, okay? You listen, no Titan. And now that I'm reminded of your bad manners, you've torn up that pretty dress of yours earlier. That wasn't cheap, you ungrateful bitch. How are you going to make it up to me?"
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to." Worry began to fill up your still-teary expression as you pulled your face out of his shoulder. You were taking every insult with a grain of salt, dismissing them completely. "I-I'll do anything to make it up to you, sir."
Porco really wasn't any different from the devil nuisances down in the slums, an excited shiver going through his system. If you're really offering anything, then he might as well get what he deserved out of you, he's been waiting a year for it after all. He lifted your face with one hand, rubbing away a smudge of dirt off of your skin with his thumb.
"We'll discuss what you can do about it later. Now, let's go home and get ourselves cleaned up, you smell like mud and look like shit." Another apology slipped through your lips as he moved forward with your hand in his, the corners of his mouth curling upwards with pure joy.
The animal within you has become neutralized, the flame dying and being left behind with the fading Titan behind the two of you.
Porco finally got what he paid for.
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