#last time i was in this mood a whack ass fic came from it and im trying to think

[thetoaddaddy]

in a torture my muse silly goofy mood

[sukirichi]

total opposites

You and Toge swap bodies after encountering a fairytale curse, and similar to its origin, it also takes a fairytale method to break it.

REQUEST. body swap au + best friends to lovers

CONTENT/WARNINGS. slight crack fic, some cursing, implications of nsfw but nothing explicit, just Toge being a not-so closet pervert, usual best friend bickering, reader is fem bodied, unedited story (I should stop saying this, everyone knows I don’t edit my stuff)

NOTES. I enjoyed writing this, tysm for the request anon, this was really cute! definitely this is shooting up in one of my fav works ever (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

You stretched your arms overhead, feeling great after sleeping in. It wasn’t common of you to sleep this late, but you and Toge had gone stargazing the night before. A smile made its way to your face as you reminisced him reciting rice ball ingredients, signing that he was telling poetry to ‘match the mood’ until you’d both fallen asleep on the soft blanket atop a hill.

You don’t remember how you made it back to your room, but figured that Toge had carried you back home before the sun rose. Making a mental note to thank your best friend later, you yawned as you padded out to your room, hands rubbing in circles at your stomach.

Hopefully breakfast would be amazing today.

The door next to you opened, revealing your younger classmate, and you frowned, because wasn’t Kugisaki your next door neighbour? Well, whatever, he, Yuuji, and Kugisaki might’ve taken advantage of the rare, peaceful weekend that they probably had a movie marathon the night before.

“Morning, Megumi!” you greeted, coughing a bit when you sounded off, throat a little horse and itchy. At the sound of your voice, Megumi stilled in his tracks, eyes wide at you. His comical expression had you barking in laughter, shooting finger guns his way as you wiggled your eyebrows. “Ey, be a good dog and bark for me, will you?”

Semi-visible sonic waves drifted like waves after one another out your mouth. Megumi scowled before he froze the next second, ears perked up and backside wagging in replacement of a tail. “Woof woof!”

“What the hell?” you reeled back in slight disgust, your underclassman’s cheeks burning red. Then, your lips grazed against a soft cloth, making you look down.

You blinked back once. Twice. You were definitely...built different today. Curiously, you tugged at the zipper peaking out from your black collar, the familiar zhoop sound of the zipper burned into your memory after hearing your best friend do it countless times before.

In front of you, Megumi screeched – the most noise he’d made ever since you met him – his jaw dropped open while you – or rather Toge stood at the end of the hallway, his hands squeezing at your breasts that were still under last night’s pyjamas. You blinked back once. Then twice, steam pouring from your nose when Toge, in your body, pointed at his body. 

“Oh, oh!” your scream bounced off the hallways hard enough that Panda slammed his door open, about to tell everyone to shut up when your voice let out a high-pitched scream.

“What are you doing in my body?!”

Looking down at where Toge was pointing, you were greeted by the sight of his dark uniform and sock clad feet, your chest replaced with hard muscles instead of the soft flesh. You turned to Toge with a stupefied look that mirrored his, both of you falling on the ground with fists pounding on the hardwood floor.

“I’m a fucking girl!” he cried out, whether out of happiness or frustration, it was hard to tell.

Meanwhile, you zipped his collar back up, tugging at his off-white hair as you forced yourself to remember his limited vocabulary. “BONITO FLAKES!”

Now you understood Toge’s frustration of being a cursed speech user. 

“Bonito Flakes” definitely did not hold the same fury as “FUCK” did.

“You and I need to set down some boundaries,” you signed to him, brows pulled together. Toge seemed to be enjoying this sudden body swap a lot more than you did since he hadn’t stopped posing in the mirror the moment you pushed him back to your room, locking it shut to get some privacy. “You are not, under any circumstances, allowed to shower, do you understand?”

Toge scowled at your words, sassy as ever with his hands placed on his hips, buttocks jutted out. You hated, absolutely hated that he used your body this way because this time you couldn’t even laugh – not when seeing your body felt this awkward.

“You would really rather me stink?”

“You can’t undress too! Ever! Or if you will, your eyes better be closed. No peeking too!”

“Y/N, you and I grew up together. I’ve already seen everything,” he rolled his eyes, earning him a hard slap from the arm. Considering he was a lot more muscular than you were, your hit came a lot harder. “Ow!” he protested, rubbing the sore spot that ached, only to laugh at the sounds emitting from his lips. “Wow, I have to admit that this is really fun though. I’m actually talking,” he announced, “Hey, say salmon for me.”

“Bonito flakes!” you shook your head, “The moment Principal Yaga is back, we’re going to talk to him, okay? I don’t want to be stuck in your body any longer!”

“Please, you’re lucky you get to feel me up,” he winked at you, taking your (his) hands to flatten it on his stomach. “Come on, come on, feel my abs!” Whack. “Would you please stop slapping me? Your body is a lot more delicate than mine and my hands are – stop slapping me!”

Feeling bad for your friend and not wanting to abuse your body too much, you raised your hands in surrender with a roll of your eyes. “I can’t take you seriously with that voice. You’re too cute.”

“Complimenting ourselves now, aren’t we?” he scoffed, “Well, whatever, you are cute, especially when you’re angry. Such a shame I can’t see you do that right now because my handsome face is looking back at me.”

“I won’t hesitate to choke you, my friend.”

“You wouldn’t. You adore your body too much,” contrary to his words, Toge pulled a defensive stance. You threw a pillow at him, to which he easily dodged, clutching at the hem of your pyjamas afterwards. “Speaking of bodies, I really need to pee.”

“Hold it!”

“Are you insane? I’m not holding it, you’re going to kill us both!”

“Fine, I’ll take you to the rest room then,” you tugged at the hood of your shirt, pushing him inside the communal female restroom. Toge stood in the middle shock still, evidently flustered at the stalls and lack of urinals. You flicked a finger on his forehead, finger pointed to a stall. “Go pee. That’s my body – I need to make sure you’re not going to do anything weird with it.”

“I thought you trusted me, friend. Why would you think I’d touch you that way?”

You gave him an ‘are you serious?’ look. “You jack off every fucking night, Toge. I can hear you even from the next hallway. Plus, you’re a horny teenage male, who’s to say you wouldn’t be curious and try to see what female masturbation feels like?”

His eyes lit up at the idea, fist coming down to bounce at the palm of his hand as he nodded. “That’s actually a good idea—”

“Don’t you even dare.”

“What?!” you and Toge both exclaimed. He faced you with utter horror written on his face and you gasped, slapping both palms over your lips.

“It is true,” Principal Yaga affirmed with a grim look on his face. He’d recently got back to fetch your troublesome Gojo-Sensei who’d been caught starting a ruckus in Roponggi while women flocked around him, leading to your principal to haul his ass back to the school grounds. “Some curses are manifested through daily objects, and sometimes even through nature. That shooting star you saw was an example of that.”

“But is kissing really necessary?” Toge queried with a wary gaze sent your way.

“It’s a fairytale curse. It can only be broken through a true love’s kiss.”

“But sir, Toge and I have never dated anyone before. How can we miraculously fall in love with someone to break this curse overnight?”

“It doesn’t have to happen overnight. Sometimes, a simple crush will do,” Principal Yaga sighed, scratching his bald head with his face pulled deep in thought. “Y/N, you have a crush on Gojo-Sensei right? I’m going to kill him if he actually kisses you – and knowing that damn brat he might if you ask him – but I think a kiss on the cheek will suffice. For now, you both just have to...broaden your relationships. Maybe go out on dates.”

“I don’t mind that. In fact, I’m going to have the time of my life,” Toge cheered, his mood dampening once he saw you stiffen. “But my body is...”

Knowing full well that he’d get insecure over his lack of speech again, you glared at him hard enough that your best friend straightened up, lips puckered out in a pout as if you hadn’t just caught him talking badly about himself again when you’ve told him countless times he was perfectly fine the way he was.

It made you sigh, feeling slightly bad that until now he still couldn’t see himself the way you saw him – not that you’d ever vocalize this; Toge would never shut up (in the best way he could) if he had the slightest idea what went inside your head.

“You’re lucky you have a pretty face. Otherwise, it’s going to be impossible for anyone to like you,” you teased instead, somewhat flustered at your indirect compliment.

Toge merely scoffed at you, his gaze burning and hard, contrasting the teasing little shit grin he wore. “Oh, please, if I wasn’t the cursed speech user, I would’ve banged—”

“Kids!” Principal Yaga threw his dolls at you hard, the both of you clutching at your heads in pain. How were those dolls as heavy as rocks? “Take your bickering back to your rooms please. No more of this mess and noise. It’s late.”

You frowned at the old man, face pleading as you signed, “Principal Yaga, can’t we really do anything else? Aren’t there any techniques to undo this?”

You and Toge knew that combination so well – pitch black eyes, jaw clenched, lips pursed and palms interlaced under his chin – one that meant his words were final and irrevocable. None of you could argue or suggest more solutions the moment the words left his lips like an ultimate decree. “The technique is the kiss. Now leave.”

You and Toge tried, you both really did. 

But following Principal Yaga’s suggestion of dating others had turned out to be a complete fail – even with your normal body and Toge’s physical charisma. 

It simply didn’t work; not when Megumi ran away from you every time you tried to get him to kiss you with your arms wide open, and Toge wasn’t helping either by pushing Gojo-Sensei away from you every time the cheeky eyed teacher announced his willingness to help.

Eventually, you and your best friend had retired in his room, the scent of him coated all over his pillows and his shirt that you wore. That felt comforting, at least, and you buried yourself in the crook of your body’s neck, bodies tangled with one another.

Who knew dating could be so tiring?

A wave of irritation flashed over you from today’s events, knowing full well that this could’ve been avoided long ago. Scowling, you cuddled Toge closer, lightly flicking your fingers on your body’s chest. “This is your damn fault, Toge.”

“You were the one who asked me to stargaze with you.”

“You don’t always have to say no to everything I ask of you, you know.”

“You’re really dumber than I thought if you think I could easily say no to you,” he snorted above you, his chin resting atop your head. “I don’t have a lot of weakness because I’m a strong sorcerer—” another flick, a harsher one this time around. “Okay, okay, I’m just kidding! But I mean it though – you’re my best friend and my weakness. Of course I’d do anything to make you happy, even if it’s something as stupid as stargazing.”

“Hey!” you made a sound of protest in your throat, looking back at him with a frown. “It wasn’t stupid, it was romantic.”

Hell yeah, it was romantic indeed – your heart still skipped a beat every time you remembered Toge’s starry eyes matching the night sky’s beauty, the words salmon and mustard leaf surprisingly sexy every time it came from him. It was stupid – so fucking stupid – that you groaned into his chest to hide your flushed face.

“Yeah, I suppose it was.”

The room fell silent, your syncopated breathing soothing during this stressful times. Taking advantage of your voice, Toge began to hum, singing the songs you both had always listened to in the privacy of your room during lazy days. It brought a smile to your face as you clutched to him tighter, heart pounding in your chest as you gazed up at him, tapping his chin to get his attention. “Toge, can I say something weird?”

“Please, nothing you say surprises me anymore. Shoot.”

Your mouth began to dry as you cleared your throat in an attempt to hide your awkwardness, gaze pointedly averted from his prying ones. “You and I...we’ve known each other for a long time and we love each other. As best friends, of course.”

“Sheesh, friendzone much?”

“Would you please shut up and listen to me seriously for once?” you huffed, making him snicker, but nodded at you anyway to continue. “As I was saying – why don’t we kiss? It could be true love’s kiss.”

Toge didn’t speak for a good minute, the pregnant pause filling in the gap filled with tension. You taped his cheek, waving his hand in front of his eyes when he dazed out. When his gaze focussed back on you, Toge was surprisingly calm – although beneath that composed exterior, his mind had simply short-circuited. “If this is your way to get to make out with me, I’m going to sock you in the face.”

“Toge, I’m serious! Let’s kiss!”

“I don’t want to!” he shook his head indignantly, hiding his face by hugging you close to his chest instead.

“Why not? Don’t you want to swap back to your original body? Both of us haven’t showered in two days and I’m sick of the way you smell. You’re lucky I love you though, otherwise I’m going to cry. Come on, Toge, what’s holding you back?” you tried to fight back from his grip, but he’d surprised you both when he only squeezed you tighter, both your erratic heart rates matching the other.

“I said no.”

“Toge, it’s just a damn kiss, what’re you so afraid of?”

“I’m afraid that if we don’t swap back, then that means you don’t love me the way I love you!” he finally admitted, breathing hard before continuing. “Principal Yaga said it must be a kiss between lovers and not just platonic friends okay?” you attempted to scramble away from his arms again, and this time he let you, though he’d closed his eyes, cheek squished on the pillows as he murmured, “I don’t want you to reject me... even though I messed up already.”

“Wait,” you snapped your fingers to make him open his eyes, hesitant as you signed, “You...you love me that way?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Why not?”

“Because my face is staring back at me and it’s fucking awkward – I wanted to see your face when I confessed!” he sat up with a frustrated groan, childishly kicking off the sheets of the bed as he clutched his head in his hands. “I had everything planned, okay? Nobara and Yuuji helped me think of everything because Megumi is shit when it comes to love. Listen, I was going to ask you on a candlelit date and then maybe kiss the life out of you – if you feel the same way—”

“Kiss me.” The body he possessed a victim of his own powers, Toge was left with no choice but to grab your face before his mouth pressed against yours, fingers entangled into the other’s hair. You were smiling into the kiss the whole time, barely able to recognize when Toge had shifted your bodies until you were under him, his hands running down your sides lovingly the whole time. 

Pulling away to get some air, you opened your eyes, unsurprised when Toge laid above you, his strong arms planted beside your head.

Both of you were breathing hard from the passionate kiss filled with so much sexual tension and longing, your tongue darting out to swipe at his taste on your lips. The laughter that bubbled out of you was pure, wholesome and swollen like your heart. “I love you too, idiot.”

“Salmon!” Toge peppered your cheeks with kisses, pulling out more gleeful laughter from you, his playful and loving attacks more of a gift than a punishment. Once you’d recovered from your happiness – although really, who could recover after that? – Toge unzipped his collar, his smile nothing but wicked when he commanded, “Kiss me again.”

[lannister-slings-and-arrows]

do #14 from the punch in the gut list! i like my drama with a happy ending!

Oh oh oh! This is something actually super similar to something I already had planned for my multi chapter Frankie fic! So you know. Enjoy the preview I guess? lol.

14. "I can’t keep pretending like I’m okay with being just your friend when I want you in my bed.”

“You trying to hit on me, Frankie Morales?” Molly asked, a bright smile on her lips, a laugh dancing in her green eyes. Frankie looked at the liquor bottles on the shelf behind the bar, and saw the reflection of the deer heads on the wall behind him in the mirror, shrugging slowly.

“And what if I am?” He flicked his eyes to her, as she sat next to him at the bar with an empty beer bottle in front of her and a shot glass full of whiskey in her hand. “You’re lookin’ gorgeous tonight; if you don’t want me sayin’ so, you shouldn’t wear those tight ass jeans.” Molly threw her head back and laughed, that rough nasally caw that he had grown to love nearly as much as the happy sounds that Veronica made in the mornings. She tossed the shot back and signalled to the bartender for another of both, raising an eyebrow at Frankie who shrugged again. She pointed at his near empty bottle and the bartender nodded.

“Bet you say that to all the girls,” she dismissed with another chuckle. “I suppose puppy eyes like yours even need some help sometimes.” She threw back the new shot and passed Frankie’s new beer to him and he wanted to shake her and to leave and never see her again.

She whacked his arm gently (Frankie suppressed a shiver only through the pure stubborn determination that had been drilled into him for decades in the special forces) and Frankie very deliberately did not look to see if his arm now sported a deep red burn in the shape of her fingers. It wasn’t real, just like every time she touched him and he felt that stinging, hot feeling soot through him from point of contact to the tight ball in his stomach that had started forming on that day in the parking lot of P.J’s. It was only in his imagination, just like every flirtatious smile she threw at him, and every lingering glance and suggestive remark. He was barking up the wrong tree, and it hurt.

“I haven’t seen you around the house in the past few days,” she remarked, hand still on his forearm. Frankie wished, desperately, that he hadn’t worn a tee shirt today. That he had sleeves to protect himself from feeling how strong her fingers were, how cool they felt compared to his skin. He wished that he didn't know that if he said that to her she would roll her eyes and pretend to be offended and say that ‘she didn’t have cold hands, he just ran too hot for this kind of climate’. He wished that he had been able to hide better at that table in the back of the bar by the ancient jukebox, that she hadn’t spotted him almost as soon as she sat at the bar and hadn’t grinned and nodded at the seat next to her.

“Yeah, uh, I finished with the porch and the door hasn’t come in yet, so I figured I should get started on the stuff that needs doin’ around the barn while I waited.” She squeezed his arm and let go to grab her new beer, and Frankie took everything back. He wanted that touch back. She swallowed and he couldn’t help watching the way her throat moved.

“Normally you come up to the house for breaks though, I was starting to wonder if you were mad at me or something,” she explained, laughing casually, eyes surprisingly serious as they finally caught and held his. “And then you’re holed up in that corner tonight, jeez Fish, you’re gonna give a girl a complex,” she admonished him gently, eyes not leaving his face, even as his dropped to the floor.

“Sorry,” he muttered. All confidence from earlier gone, all the hurt that he had been nursing since he had seen her get into Caden’s truck last week bubbling to the surface. “Just busy fixing up the ranch. Like you pay me to do.” Molly set her beer down with a thunk. “Listen,” he said, picking up his own beer and sliding off the stool and onto his feet, still not looking up at her. “Thanks for the beer, but I’m not really in a great mood tonight, I’ll just see you later, ok?” He started to turn away when she grabbed a handful of the back of his shirt and snapped,

“Ok what the hell Frankie, you’ve been blowing hot and cold on me for a week now, and I’m fucking sick of it.” He pulled against her hold gently and she yanked harder, forcing him to either rip his shirt or sit back down. He sat and she let go, instead putting both of her hands on his knees and squeezing gently.

“What’s wrong Fish? Is it the baby? Is she sick or something?” He shook his head and heaved a sigh.

“Nope, Veronica’s just fine.” Molly dug her fingers into his knees a little harder.

“Ok well then have I managed to step on some more southern toes again? I swear this time whatever I did was unintentional,” she tried to joke. Frankie didn’t smile, he just slid further back on the seat, forcing her to let go of his knees. He looked up briefly to find her staring at him intently, brow furrowed.

“No, you’re fine, I’m just tired, ok? I think I’m going to just head out.” He set the beer down on the bar and made to leave again.

“Fuck, Fish, I thought we were friends, if I’ve fucking pissed you off at least be a man about it and tell me so I can god damned apologize!” Molly was starting to get pissed now, Frankie heard it in her voice and he didn’t care, he was done, he couldn’t do this anymore, he was angry too, angry that one more good thing had popped into his life to merely wave on its way out. It seemed like every time he thought that finally things were starting to turn around something went to shit, and there wasn’t a thing he could do to stop it. And if she didnt’t stop looking at him with those big green eyes, hurt and confused and mad, he was going to-

“Well maybe we aren’t!” Fish hissed back.

Do that. Frankie would do that. Molly sat back quickly, startled.

“Aren’t what?” She licked her lips and Frankie clenched his fists. “Aren’t friends? Well that’s fucking news to me, Fish. Last time I checked, it's your favorite brand of beer in my fridge not anybody else’s.” Frankie scoffed and glared at the chipped and stained surface of the bar, fingers going to the label of one of the empties near them to start scratching and peeling at it.

“Really? No one else's? Not even Caden’s?” Molly was silent and he told himself that he didn’t care. That this was fine and that he was going to get over this latest disappointment just like he had all the others. He had survived Redfly’s death. He had survived the loss of all that money, and Veronica’s mother leaving them, this was fine. It wasn’t like they were even together. Molly hadn’t ever made any sort of indication that she even liked him like that, it was all in his head and really, he should have known better, she wasn’t planning on staying anyways, this was better, this was fine.

“No, why would I keep beer in the house for him?” Molly asked quietly. Frankie tore half the label off and angrily rolled the freed piece into a ball between his thumb and forefinger. “What do you mean, we aren’t friends Fish? What’s gotten into you?”

He threw the ball at the garbage can behind the bar and missed entirely. He finally met her eyes and sighed, tapping his fingers on the brown bottle in his hand.

“I can’t keep pretending like I’m okay with just being your friend when I want you in my bed,” Frankie finally said, absorbing the surprise in her face with resignation. “And I saw you go home with Caden last week, you clearly don’t feel the same way that I do, and that’s fine, I just,” he paused and shook his head. Frankie let go of the bottle, now ruined for deposit, and stood. “I need some time. Probably a lot of time.” Molly looked like she wanted to say something and he cut her off. “I’ll see you around, Molls.”

Frankie turned away from her and walked out of the bar, heading to his truck and the joint he knew was in his glove box. He knew he shouldn’t, that the recertification agent could piss test him whenever he felt like it for the next two months but he needed to chill out before he drove home to his aunt and the baby.

He sat on the tailgate of his truck for the next ten minutes, listening to the faint sound of the country music from the bar he had left abruptly, smoking and staring at his boots as he swung his legs idly. He groaned and slid forward, intending to jump down and leave when a beat up Vans sneaker flew through the air and smacked him in the chest. He stared at it, sitting in his lap, and blinked slowly. That was a new reaction to pot. He was 99% sure that that hadn’t been one of those weird joints Pope had brought with him last time he came to visit. He should not be hallucinating things right now, that had to be a real shoe in his lap. He looked up slowly to find Molly standing in front of him, hands on her hips, scowl on her face, one foot shoe-less.

“You shouldn't walk around a bar parking lot barefoot,” he told her quietly, holding her tiny sneaker in his hand. “You’re going to step on glass or something and get tetanus” He jumped down and held the shoe out to her. She continued to scowl at him as she took it roughly from him and smacked his arm with it. He tried to dodge her but she just hit him again.

“What the fuck, you asshole?!” She shouted at him, dropping her shoe to the ground and stomping her foot into it. “What the hell is your problem, you big baby?! You just drop a bomb like that on me and leave?!” He knew as soon as he opened his mouth that he should shut it again and not speak but,

“Dropping bombs was kind of one of my specialties, remember? It's what your tax dollars paid to train me to do.” Molly looked like she was ready to gut him.

“Stop talking. You are just high enough not to have the self preservation of a goose, and I would feel bad if I killed you before I got to do this.”

And she leaned up and kissed him.

Frankie stood parade rest still, eyes wide open and watching her face. She pulled back and sighed.

“If you wanted something more with me you should have just said something, you fucking dumbass.” She leaned in to kiss him again and he stopped her.

“But wait, aren't you with-” She slapped her hand over his mouth.

“I said no speaking. I don’t know what you think you saw or what, but I proimise you, you’ll be the first guy I fuck south of the Mason Dixon line.” She removed her hand and kissed him again, hands knocking his hat to the bed of the truck and tangling in his sweaty curls.

[geminimoonbeamx]

A Little Extra Paddin' for the Winter

A/N: I’ve been really focused on writing my series’ lately and I really just miss writing fun, fluffy, smutty, one shots! Like these just warm my heart, they keep me inspired and keep my love for writing these fics alive. PLUS CAN WE JUST TAKE A MOMENT TO TALK ABOUT OUR LORD AND SAVIOR, THICC BUCKY?!

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: Cursing. NSFW, Oral sex(female receiving) body worship, pregnancy hormones gone wild

Summary: Bucky has been gaining some baby weight of his own and his fiancé, Y/N’s raging hormones cant handle it.

❄️❄️❄️

You can’t deny it, you fucking love your fiancée’s body.

Fiancé, you hear that? Fucking fiancé. Like future husband. You still get a little giddy at the word. Maybe it was the pregnancy hormones, but just the thought of it could make your eyes prick. You shake it off, it was definitely the hormones. They had been driving you and everyone around you a little bit up the wall. From the cravings to the mood swings, this pregnancy thing really wasn’t the walk in the park that they made it out to be.

Like this horniness! No one had warned you that just the sight of Bucky would turn you into mush. It had been like this for weeks too, you were really starting to ware the both of you out. You just couldn’t help it, those tight sweaters and Henley’s he wore clung to his tree trunk like core- to his broad shoulders. The cozy fabric was just too inviting your itching fingers had a mind of their own.

Like now, you were supposed to be putting on clothes; you and Buck and a few other members of the team had decided to go and look at the Christmas lights at Rockefeller Center- but your eyes were heavily trained on the flex of his shoulders as he shrugged into a dense pullover. Fuck. It was memorizing. You’d heard Tony’s teasing of Bucky’s “baby weight” gain, but honestly, you don’t think you’d ever been more attracted to him. Not that you hadn’t always thought he was the most gorgeous man you’d ever met, but this? This was something else.

You huff and collapse back onto the bed, abandoning your attempt to put on your knee high boots. It shouldn’t be this easy for him to make you want to jump his bones.

“Aw, you okay over there, baby doll?” Bucky eyes you from his place near the closet and you shrug, your lips pursed as you muttered an I guess. If heavily pregnant and being insanely horny for absolutely no reason were considered okay things, then yeah. You were great.

Bucky would have known something was wrong, even if you hadn’t given that grumble of a response. He’d been a little…neurotic(not crazy, he’d argue) along the duration of your pregnancy. The last seven months had been filled with him watching your almost every move, of overprotectiveness that bordered on ridiculousness. Bucky was doting and so, so good to you. You and the little life you were growing inside of you had become the center of his universe. He orbited around you, hated being too far away from you. It fucked up his gravitational pull, when you weren’t in eyesight.

Your staring up at the ceiling, half pouting, half craving beignets. You wondered if Tony would let you take the private jet on a quick little day trip to New Orleans…you knew if you asked Sam he’d definitely pilot…

You feel a pair of large hands on your doubled up legging clad thighs and you raise your head, over your round tummy, to lock eyes with Bucky’s azure ones.

He’s kneeling on the floor, one of your boots in hand. “Are you feeling alright? We don’t have to go tonight if you don’t want to”

The soft concern in his brooklynite voice makes you melt. Like it always does. “No, I want to go! Remember last year, when Steve almost busted his ass on that ice by that hot dog stand”

He chuckles at the memory as he begins to slide your boot up your curvy calf, wiggling it until it sat on your chubby thigh right, perfectly. You sigh at the feel of his finger tips.

“I told him to wear a pair of shoes with'a little traction this time. He wouldn’t want to go bustin’ up his pretty mug in front of Sharon”

You cant help but grin at the thought of it. At how red the Cap'n’s face would be.

Bucky’s so smooth and delicate with his actions, you never really knew something as simple as him putting your boots on be so intimate. How did he manage to make everything so erotic? You lean on your arms to watch him, your bottom lip pulled between your teeth. You love the appearance of his cute little double chin. He claps a hand to each thigh when he’s got your boots adjusted right.

“Alright, Sweets. Anything else you need?”

It’s such an innocent well intentioned question, but where he just so happened to be placed at the moment had your mind drifting again.

“Well…while your down there” You waggle your arching brows at him suggestively and he barks out a laugh at you, shaking his head a little.

Hadn’t he just made you cum an hour or so ago? He’d toyed with your clit under your robe while you were putting on your makeup. You had been so insatiable lately, it was one of the few times in his life he was grateful for the serum that ran through his veins. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to keep up with you if he wasn’t enhanced.

You had the stamina of a rabbit.

But he didn’t mind. No, he’d take care of his girl, no matter what you needed from him. He’d give it to you.

“Yeah?” He asks coyly, his fingers are already hooking in both your leggings and panties. “You need your pretty pussy eaten?”

“Please baby” You whine as he drags them down your thighs, just enough that your core is bare for him, you spread your legs as much as you can around the constricting material.

He doesn’t tease you, doesn’t make you wait. He licks a fat stripe up the crease of your labia, his tongue pressing through at your clit. You collapse, your back pressing into the mattress as he begins to lap directly at your bundle of nerves, you know he’s going to get you off within minutes. Seconds even. You card your fingers through his dark locks adoringly, before gripping handfuls of them. Pressing him closer. What you’ve always loved about getting eaten out by Bucky was the fact that he didn’t do it half assed. He used his whole face, his chin dipping into your heat. His nose nudging your mound as he worked you over. Your a mess of desperate whimpers and sobs as the wet sound ‘smacking’ sound of him binging on you fills the air.

He doesn’t even have to use his fingers, he makes you climax with one final pro tug on your clit. He does this thing where he manages to use his lips, teeth and tongue at once and you scream your fucking lungs out.

“Nggnngh. Oh James, oh baby. Fuck. Fuckfuckfuck”

You praise as your whole body goes off, waves after waves of electric pleasure washing over you. And of course. Bucky draws it out until your twitching and dry heaving and all but clawing at him to stop. He gives one final, loving lick, and then an even more tender kiss to the mound of your pussy before he begins to pull your leggings back up, you lift you hips to help him.

“You want to know something fucked up?” You note, your still laying back, blissed out in your post orgasm.

“What?” Bucky stands, going over to grab a random article of clothing from the hamper in the closet and to wipe his glistening lower face on.

“I could barley see you over my stomach!” You shake with laughter as you rub your bump fondly “Like, literally, all I could see was the top of your head!”

Bucky laughs, hard at that, at you. At your constantly joking nature. God, he couldn’t wait to see you with his child, he hoped they’d have your laugh.

After fixing both of your hair, you run a brush, taming your hair that had been mused when your head had thrashed against the bed. Make sure it falls over your shoulders right, before moving onto Bucky and easily reaching up gathering his mane into a smooth knot at the back of his neck. You loved his man-buns, he loved you doing his hair for him because hell if he could ever get it to cooperate on his own.

Bucky bundles you up nice and tight, wanting to make sure you were protected from the harsh chilly December air. You feel even bigger, which how was that even possible, in your bulky winter coat. In the scarf that he wound around your neck and the knit turban you tug onto your head.

“I look like a snow beast” You sigh, giving your hair one last fluff, putting on one last coat of lipstick. Bucky snorts and kisses the side of your head lovingly.

“You look cute. Like the abominable snow monster from Rudolph” He narrowly avoids your hand as you reach to slap him, maneuvering you easily, grabbing your elbow and pulling you to him so that he can press pecks your lips. You giggle into his mouth, although you still want to whack him. Steve manages to save his ass, as always by coming in, asking you if you were ready to go. Sam was right behind him teasing you guys with “If you guys could stop going at it like rabbits, we’re already late!”

“It’s not me” Bucky defends himself, pulling away from the kiss with dancing eyes “I’m just a bystander in this whole situation. Ya’ know, sperm doner-”

The slap you give to his shoulder echo’s around the room and you glare at him and walk away. Sam tosses an arm around your shoulders and gives Bucky a teasing glare just along with you as the two of you walk ahead. Bucky sighs. Oh, pregnancy hormones. You’d think he would have learned not to put his foot in his mouth after all these months, but he still wasn’t quite used to you being so touchy.

Steve gives Bucky a sympathetic look “Come on Bud, you can buy her a Cinnabon. She was complanin’ earlier about craving one. She’ll be right as rain”

Bucky just nods, smiling in spite of himself at the knowledge that baked goods really would fix it all. He thinks he could use one too. He’d knew he’d get back into your good graces, whether he had to eat Cinnamon rolls with you, or just drag you off somewhere and eat you in general. He’d do what he must. He’d been told those were the sacrifices that came with fatherhood…although he didn’t mind eating either.

——————————————

Okay, so I needed some happy smut in my life. Do you guys love cheesy Holliday fluff as much as I do? Let me know pretty babies!💛

[followmetoyourdoom]

Halloweening // Chpt 1 - Trapped

So imma do Iristo weekend as like one fic, with (hopefully) one chapter each day. Iristo isn’t too heavy in this chapter, but it’s there. Also, bc I know this is gonna confuse some people, this is set after season 2 episode 2, except it’s still October in universe. Yeah I know, but *gestures to canon* they put the random-ass Halloween ep in there okay, not me, I’m just pretending it happened two weeks before Halloween and that the rest of season 1 and the first 2 eps of season 2 happened in those two weeks. It’s a stretch, I know. Let’s just pretend.

So, without further ado, I present Day 1 - Princess/Knight

The twins decide to hatch their next plan on Halloween, using the town’s infamous Haunted House as the location for their next devious plot. But when the twins run into a problem, it’s up to Iris to be their knight in shining armour.

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As dusk fell on a vibrant and festive Sunny Bay, skeletons on the sides of houses danced a jig in the cold october breeze, pumpkins grinned eerily out at passersby in costumes, and giggles and shrieks of children and teens alike echoed down the streets.

The girls were making their way towards the infamous Sunny Bay Haunted House, open to the public for Halloween. To those brave enough to enter that is.

There was, of course, nothing haunted about the house. It was simply old and decrepit, and perhaps had an issue with rodents. That didn't stop the mayor of the town using it to rake in money for his retirement fund, especially not when it was also the murder scene of a family back in the 1960s. Murder was good for business.

This time, however, a certain pair of twins were going to make sure its patrons got more than what they paid for.

"Urgh, do we have to wear these tacky costumes, Mephisto?"

Her brother grinned, "C'mon, Prax. They're not all that different from our usual outfits. Besides, I like the teeth." He smiled again, showing off the razor sharp incisors the two twins had magicked onto their own teeth. "Besides, pretending to be ghosts won't work. So vampires it is."

Praxina curled her lip. "Ah yes, perfect pretty Princess Talia with her ghost vision. Please."

"Ew, did you just call Talia 'pretty'."

"No!" Praxina said defensively. "I meant it in an insulting way." She whacked her brother on the back of the head when he started chuckling. "Let's just get this over with."

Mephisto nodded and peaked around the door frame, spotting the girls in the crowd. He squinted slightly. "Okay. Iris is in… red? Yes, that's Iris, blonde hair, okay. Auriana… I don't know what Auriana is meant to be, but she has white paint on her face and-"

Praxina elbowed him. "I'm not the one that mixed Iris up with some random human last time. Just get in the coffin before I give you a reason to be there permanently."

"Fine fine, relax, I'm going."

She thought for a moment, then grabbed her brother's arm last minute. "Make sure you don't get trapped or stuck in there like an idiot. We rigged them to open from the inside, but just make sure you don't mess it up or-"

Mephisto cut her off as he smiled, recognising her worry. "I'll be fine."

Praxina nodded. She knew she was asking a lot of her brother, having him lie in wait in a tight dark spot, but he'd assured her he'd be fine. The months of Gramorr torturing Mephisto and playing on his fear of the dark were behind him, he'd insisted. Besides, his paranoia only kicked in when he couldn't get out.

The girls finally got to the front of the queue and Iris paid for the tickets. The three girls entered the house, Auriana rushing forwards, grabbing onto Talia's hand and dragging her with her. The Xerin Princess gave Iris a look that meant something along the lines of 'save me' before she was pulled into the depths of the house.

Giggling to herself, Iris made her way slowly around, trying to get into the right mood. But she'd seen the house a million times over, surely there was nothing that could-

An ear-splitting scream shook the entire house and Iris jumped, covering her ears.

She didn't recognise the scream and after a while, it faded. Clearly there was something good further on in the house.

Iris hurried through the next door, ignoring most of the second room and passing into the third - she needed to catch up with Auriana and Talia anyway. But they were nowhere to be seen in this room either.

Then a soft wail, a murmur, thumps, and knocks, came to her attention. She cast her eyes around cautiously, about to brush it off as sound effects when her necklace began to glow.

The banging started up again, coming from behind the next door and she hurriedly pushed through it, expecting to find resistance. But the door gave way easily and Iris tumbled to the floor, dust flying up everywhere and getting in her nose. She sneezed a couple of times and squinted through the dust, trying to see what the problem was.

"Hello?" she called out.

"Iris?" called out an unidentifiable voice, but it seemed heavy and thick with tears.

The Princess wandered over to the source of the voice, coming across two coffins lying side by side, various pieces of furniture tossed carelessly on top of them - more than likely the haunted house workers making some last minute touches to the interior.

Her name was called again and Iris' eyes went wide as she recognised the voice. "Praxina?"

"Yes!" she snapped. That was Praxina alright. "Release us from these death beds so we can attack you."

Iris frowned down at the coffins. "Is Mephisto in the other?"

"Well I'm not using the royal we!" Praxina snarled. "Now get us out before he starts freaking out again. "He needs help," she added after a pause.

So that had been Mephisto's scream.

Iris nodded to herself and used her magic to remove the furniture from the top of the coffins, Praxina bursting out of hers as soon as she was able to, then angrily turning and blasting the offending wooden box to smithereens. Without sparing Iris a glance, she tugged open the other coffin.

"Mephisto, Mephisto you're free, get out. Mephisto! Get out, stop fooling around… Mephisto? Mephisto, come on!"

But the Ephedian teen made no attempt to move and, when Iris walked over and stooped down to look, she found he was curled as small as he possibly could in the space allowed, eyes shut tight, his entire body shaking.

Praxina continued to shout at him, her demands turning to pleads as she tugged at his sleeve.

But he wouldn't budge.

Eventually, Praxina gave up, and hung her head, mumbling apologies. Iris didn't know what to do, she'd never seen this side of the twins before, this vulnerable side that reminded her that Praxina and Mephisto weren't that much older than her. That they were just child soldiers like she was, except they were on the wrong side of the war.

"Mephisto," Iris said softly, reaching in to pull his hand out, "Mephisto look." She used her light magic to illuminate the room, almost blinding herself and Praxina who fell back, shocked.

Opening his eyes at the light, Mephisto blinked and glanced around, roughly pulling his hand out of Iris' when he realised she was holding it.

He looked up at her like a deer trapped in headlights, the fear fading slightly as he processed what had happened and where he was. "You… saved me?" he asked, unsure where this was a good thing or not.

Praxina made a noise of disgust.

Iris nodded and magicked one of the glowing pumpkins towards the three of them so she could let her magic fade but still have light.

Mephisto thought for a moment, then shakily got to his feet, stepping out of the coffin. "Then thank you, Princess. That's the second time you've helped me." The vulnerability returned to his eyes as he looked at her, searching for an answer. "Why?"

"You needed help," Iris said simply.

Praxina had had enough and pulled her brother away. "We don't need some knight in shining armour or, well, Princess, to help us everytime we mess up," she snarked, hands shaking, but not out of anger.

"Prax… You weren't… well you were there but you weren't-"

"I know what happened," she snapped, "you told me. Then praised the Princess' fighting style for about an hour afterwards. It made me sick."

Iris blinked at this information while Mephisto laughed nervously.

"It's not funny," Praxina muttered, crossing her arms. She let out a puff of air and turned on her heal, trying to act like her old self. "We'd love to stay and chat, Princess. But we have evil plans to put into play."

"Are you sure you're both okay? You're still shaking."

And indeed they both were.

Iris smiled sadly. "Surely even villains deserve a break? Why not spend the rest of the night with us? Call it a Halloween Truce. We can go trick or treating later, there's free candy."

Mephisto's eyes lit up at this, his paranoia settling at the talk of candy. "Can we, Praxina?"

After a few seconds of pursing her lips and looking back and forth between her hopeful brother and Iris' kind features, Praxina caved. "Fine. But this first truce thing had better be the last."

Iris wasn't sure she could promise that.

[onemuseleft]

Voltron fic, 1/1, PG

Title: Stating the Obvious Rating: PG Pairing: None, genfic, Keith & Lance Warnings: None Summary:  It occurred to Keith like a punch to the gut that they were talking about Allura now, Lance was going to try to talk about this. Warnings: Spoilers for Season 2 up through episode 11 Staying Alive. Takes place immediately after the scene between Keith and Allura.

Read it on AO3

or

Keith stepped into the elevator with a tired sigh of relief and jabbed the button for his floor a little harder than necessary. It felt kind of good so he did it again, then a third time, then caught himself before he could curl his hand into a fist and punch the panel. The way things were going for him lately he'd probably end up stranded in there. Again.

He leaned back against the side of the elevator and tried not to think about... well, anything, really. Just focused on his room and how good it would feel to get out of the armor.

The doors swished most of the way shut before someone jammed their arm through the gap. Keith jumped a little, half startled and half convinced he was about to watch one of his teammates get their arm ripped off by an alien elevator. But the doors stopped just in time and swished back open so Lance could barge in.

Keith swallowed his instinctive reaction, which was mostly disappointment. It wasn't entirely fair of him, and he just really, really didn't want to start a fight. It wasn't Lance's fault that today was one of the worst days of his life. It wasn't anyone's fault. It was just how things were now.

Lance leaned against the wall opposite Keith and crossed his arms over his chest. He'd been a little weird since he and Shiro and Pidge got back. Kind of hyper, a little over-eager. It was hard to tell with Lance sometimes, but Keith wondered if something happened out there. He was tempted to ask, but he knew better than to say anything to Lance in the mood he was in at the moment.

“So,” Lance said and Keith grit his teeth till he could nearly hear them crack. He didn't want to do this now, he didn't ever want to do this, why did they always have to do this- “Are you okay?”

“I-” Keith raised his head and stared at Lance. The other paladin was watching him but there was no smirk, no narrowed eyes.  “Am I okay?”

“Yeah. Pretty much that's what I'm asking.”

“I'm fine.” Keith straightened a little, squaring his shoulders like he was bracing for a fight. He isn't sure where Lance is going with this. “We told you all in the briefing, Hunk and I didn't get hurt while we were out there.”

“Yeah, that's not what I meant.” Lance's gaze was calm, cool and knowing. Keith forgot sometimes how perceptive Lance could be, when he wasn't being so Lance. “What happened back there-”

It occurred to Keith like a punch to the gut that they were talking about Allura now, Lance was going to try to talk about this. He didn't want to hear it, he didn't want to have to hear someone else say out loud that Allura was disgusted by him, that he'd lost his place on the team even if he was still the Red Paladin. He straightened up, could feel his shoulders squaring off into a combat stance even as something like panic bubbled and prickled under his skin. Oh god, he didn't want to hear Lance agree with her, please, he couldn't take one more today. He could survive Allura hating him but not his team, not the people who watched his back and lived inside his head.

His head felt like it was stuffed with wet cotton, hot and heavy and his skin felt flushed. He wanted to lunge across the elevator and slap a hand over Lance's mouth to stop him, not that that would ever be enough to shut him up for good. He wanted a door to open up in the elevator floor and let him just fucking fall until none of this was happening anymore. He thought, with a blooming sense of quiet horror and tired resignation, that if Lance called him a Galra to his face he'd probably just start crying.

“-that was really unfair. I'm sorry.”

“What?” Keith heard the words though a fog, could barely understand them past the ache in his head and the heat in his chest.

“I'm sorry. She shouldn't have done that. And Hunk shouldn't have been the only one who stood up for you. So I'm sorry. That was – really cold, man.”

Lance has that look on his face now, the one that he gets when Hunk is crying on his shoulder about missing Earth food and his sisters, the one he has when he and Pidge end up on the couch together, Pidge curled into a little ball against Lance's side because she spent too long thinking about what could be happening to her father and brother. It's the one he gets when Shiro's eyes go blank and distant out of the blue, remembering things he never should have had to live through, or when Coran accidentally mentions something from his past and his voice goes rough and aching. It had never occurred to Keith that Lance would ever have a reason to turn that look on him, and it makes his stomach ache. “It's fine.”

“If Allura had treated me like that, I'd-”

“Be sobbing under your command console and sucking your thumb,” Keith spit out, half-hoping he could piss Lance off enough to stop, half-hoping Lance doesn't take the bait.

“I would be manly and stoic in my heartbreak,” Lance said easily. “So. Are you all right?”

It felt like someone was beating on the inside of his chest, trying to get out. “All right?” Keith realized he was panting, not sure when his breath turned harsh and ragged but now he can hear it echoing in the small space of the elevator. “Yeah. I'm great. I'm a monster and my team is scared of me, except for Allura who just hates me.” It might not just be Allura but he couldn't bring himself to push hard enough to find out. Hunk's awkwardness stung badly enough, he was afraid to look too closely and realize Pidge was afraid of him or that Shiro saw something in him of the people who'd brutalized and tortured him.

He hadn't actually hoped that Lance would be okay with this. It would just be one more thing that festered between them, one more thing about himself Keith couldn't control that made Lance hate him.

“Literally no one is afraid of your emo ass,” Lance said. “And Allura's a good person. She'll realize she's being unfair.”

“Is she?” Keith slumped back against the wall, all the fight gone from his bones. “She has a good reason to hate me. You all have a good reason to hate me.”

And that look – that look of quiet sympathy and understanding flooded through with affection and care, the look that Lance gets when his teammates need to be human for five minutes and all he wants to do is help, the look Keith never expected to ever see turned on him, not only because he never expected to need it but because he never expected Lance to care if he did - that look is still there, but it's faded, taking a second seat to a crooked smile and a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. “Keith, there are so many legitimate reasons to dislike you based entirely on your terrible social skills and off-putting personality. Why would anyone care about something you didn't ask for and have no control over?”

“I am a Galra,” Keith said. The first time he'd said it out loud, alone in his room, the word had caught in his throat and choked him. It still scratched on the way out.

The elevator slid to a stop on their floor, the doors swished open and Lance stepped out. He paused a moment when he realized Keith wasn't following him, then turned around and slapped his hand on the edge of the door before it could slide shut.

“If you keep doing that it's going to get ripped off and you'll deserve it,” Keith said.

Lance ignored him, something Lance was only good at when he wanted to be. “You were a Galra last month. We trusted you then. Nothing you found out on that whacked out base from those creepy Blade people changes the fact that you're a damned good paladin who we trust with our lives.” He paused just for a second. “I mean, you're still an asshole, but I figure that's just you.” He grinned, the same shit-eating grin he always flashed Keith when he thought he'd scored the winning point in one of their fights, but they weren't fighting and Keith didn't know what to do with that, entirely.

His mouth opened with no input from him at all, his head scrambling frantically for the right thing to say here – he knew it was something like That means a lot to me or I needed to hear that or even I really, really want us to be friends but I don't know how or at least just Thank you, but what came out instead was, “You're a damned good paladin, too.” He stumbled over the words for a moment, uncertainty making them come out like a question instead of an affirmation and he cringed internally, waiting for Lance to take it as an insult. This is why they couldn't be friends, because Keith couldn't even say fucking thank you without screwing it up.

Lance looked at him for a moment, pinned him with a narrow-eyed look before he sighed and rolled his eyes so hard Keith half-thought he'd hurt himself. “Duh, way to state the obvious, Keith.” He lifted his hand and the door slid closed again, but not before Keith heard him yell, “You're still an asshole, asshole!”

The doors closed between them and the control panel lit up, waiting for input. His hand pressed the button for the hangar without any real input from his brain but as soon as he did he knew that was exactly what he wanted. He felt raw and exposed and he couldn't handle running into someone as he walked the hall to his room – he couldn't have handled walking next to Lance after this, all those words still hanging in the air between them.

His legs were shaking as he walked across the hangar to Red's side, his breath coming in increasingly jagged gasps. There was an ache just below his sternum that made him press a hand against his chest and push down like he was trying to keep himself contained. Like he might break or explode if he didn't hold on tight enough.

His knees gave out on him and he stumbled to the ground at Red's side. He didn't know what was happening until the first sob burst out of him, ragged and sharp and hurting but sweet at the same time. It was like a pressure valve spinning open and he gulped down air even as he lost control.

Red was at the back of his mind, soft lines of fire like an Edison bulb, warm with reassurance and comfort. She dipped her head a little and nudged at him gently, tumbling him onto his ass on the floor.

He pressed his hand against her nose, the metal always warm under his palm. He didn't know how to say this out loud, couldn't make his tongue form the words for this feeling, but it didn't matter because Red could hear him anyway.

They didn't hate him. Maybe he could stop hating himself.

Red hummed in the back of his mind and Keith let her hold him up for a long time.