#diet talk / alcohol
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butters-flower-mom ¡ 17 days ago
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One of my Christmas gifts to myself came in!
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consceleratuswrites ¡ 1 year ago
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Updates.
CW for medical and hospital mention - nothing too gory I promise, just letting yall know where I’m at.
So the majority of last week I was feeling a little run down and thought it was due to this giant project I had to work on for the day job.
So, long story short - turns out it wasn’t that and, no, I wasn’t being lazy - turns out I had a developing infection.
With how fast paced things have been I’ve been a touch neglectful of my health and have managed to develop a full blown kidney infection. I had to go into hospital today as the pain was quite intense (I was crying at my desk like a knobhead).
Thankfully I’ve been sorted out I’m now on a course of antibiotics to get me feeling well again.
Bad news is that it might mean the new chapters will have to wait a lil while I’m on the mend. I can still write in bed tho 👍. But I will take my time.
The moral of the story is rest and also drink water.
Also cranberry sachets do bugger all…
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normalbrothers ¡ 6 months ago
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dieting is boring bc you can't get drunk
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livian-lucifenia ¡ 2 years ago
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officially time to bring this out again-
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30 days until my birthday and my FOB tour date fuck yeahhhhh
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internetforthesociallyinept ¡ 10 months ago
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first diet was at 5 1/2 years old. sister (11) and i were told to keep track of our "points" in our notebook. that's how it started.
my sister would end up dying 15 years later. spending her youth trying every diet she and my mother could find, losing her appendix with acute pancreatitis at one point. settling on keto, a night of drinking and a few falls would be all it took. a week later she wouldn't wake up. she had a week after the injury, but had a fear of going to the doctor because of how often she heard she should just lose weight.
my life wouldn't be the same after the way i was raised, but it's felt entirely wrong since i lost her.
I work at a daycare with infants.
One of our baby girls is fat, in the 99th percentile for her age. She is super cute and sweet. Lately, she has been sick with various breathing issues, so she has been reluctant to take her bottles. Normally, she’ll take 4 ounces of formula at lunch and 8 ounces in the afternoon. Today, I was lucky to get to her take 5 all day.
There was a substitute covering a lunch break in my classroom today. We emphasized to her that we need to keep trying to get the baby to drink her bottle until she finished it. She said, “Why are you guys so worried about taking her bottle?”
My coworker replied, “That’s where all her nutrients are. She needs the nutrients and the water.”
To which the substitute replied, “But she’s so fat. She doesn’t need it.”
Thin privilege is a small, pretty baby getting better childcare because the caretaker doesn’t think she’s too fat to be allowed to eat.
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fatliberation ¡ 1 year ago
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they have a point though. you wouldn't need everyone to accommodate you if you just lost weight, but you're too lazy to stick to a healthy diet and exercise. it's that simple. I'd like to see you back up your claims, but you have no proof. you have got to stop lying to yourselves and face the facts
Must I go through this again? Fine. FINE. You guys are working my nerves today. You want to talk about facing the facts? Let's face the fucking facts.
In 2022, the US market cap of the weight loss industry was $75 billion [1, 3]. In 2021, the global market cap of the weight loss industry was estimated at $224.27 billion [2]. 
In 2020, the market shrunk by about 25%, but rebounded and then some since then [1, 3] By 2030, the global weight loss industry is expected to be valued at $405.4 billion [2]. If diets really worked, this industry would fall overnight. 
1. LaRosa, J. March 10, 2022. "U.S. Weight Loss Market Shrinks by 25% in 2020 with Pandemic, but Rebounds in 2021." Market Research Blog. 2. Staff. February 09, 2023. "[Latest] Global Weight Loss and Weight Management Market Size/Share Worth." Facts and Factors Research. 3. LaRosa, J. March 27, 2023. "U.S. Weight Loss Market Partially Recovers from the Pandemic." Market Research Blog.
Over 50 years of research conclusively demonstrates that virtually everyone who intentionally loses weight by manipulating their eating and exercise habits will regain the weight they lost within 3-5 years. And 75% will actually regain more weight than they lost [4].
4. Mann, T., Tomiyama, A.J., Westling, E., Lew, A.M., Samuels, B., Chatman, J. (2007). "Medicare’s Search For Effective Obesity Treatments: Diets Are Not The Answer." The American Psychologist, 62, 220-233. U.S. National Library of Medicine, Apr. 2007.
The annual odds of a fat person attaining a so-called “normal” weight and maintaining that for 5 years is approximately 1 in 1000 [5].
5. Fildes, A., Charlton, J., Rudisill, C., Littlejohns, P., Prevost, A.T., & Gulliford, M.C. (2015). “Probability of an Obese Person Attaining Normal Body Weight: Cohort Study Using Electronic Health Records.” American Journal of Public Health, July 16, 2015: e1–e6.
Doctors became so desperate that they resorted to amputating parts of the digestive tract (bariatric surgery) in the hopes that it might finally result in long-term weight-loss. Except that doesn’t work either. [6] And it turns out it causes death [7],  addiction [8], malnutrition [9], and suicide [7].
6. Magro, Daniéla Oliviera, et al. “Long-Term Weight Regain after Gastric Bypass: A 5-Year Prospective Study - Obesity Surgery.” SpringerLink, 8 Apr. 2008. 7. Omalu, Bennet I, et al. “Death Rates and Causes of Death After Bariatric Surgery for Pennsylvania Residents, 1995 to 2004.” Jama Network, 1 Oct. 2007.  8. King, Wendy C., et al. “Prevalence of Alcohol Use Disorders Before and After Bariatric Surgery.” Jama Network, 20 June 2012.  9. Gletsu-Miller, Nana, and Breanne N. Wright. “Mineral Malnutrition Following Bariatric Surgery.” Advances In Nutrition: An International Review Journal, Sept. 2013.
Evidence suggests that repeatedly losing and gaining weight is linked to cardiovascular disease, stroke, diabetes and altered immune function [10].
10. Tomiyama, A Janet, et al. “Long‐term Effects of Dieting: Is Weight Loss Related to Health?” Social and Personality Psychology Compass, 6 July 2017.
Prescribed weight loss is the leading predictor of eating disorders [11].
11. Patton, GC, et al. “Onset of Adolescent Eating Disorders: Population Based Cohort Study over 3 Years.” BMJ (Clinical Research Ed.), 20 Mar. 1999.
The idea that “obesity” is unhealthy and can cause or exacerbate illnesses is a biased misrepresentation of the scientific literature that is informed more by bigotry than credible science [12]. 
12. Medvedyuk, Stella, et al. “Ideology, Obesity and the Social Determinants of Health: A Critical Analysis of the Obesity and Health Relationship” Taylor & Francis Online, 7 June 2017.
“Obesity” has no proven causative role in the onset of any chronic condition [13, 14] and its appearance may be a protective response to the onset of numerous chronic conditions generated from currently unknown causes [15, 16, 17, 18].
13. Kahn, BB, and JS Flier. “Obesity and Insulin Resistance.” The Journal of Clinical Investigation, Aug. 2000. 14. Cofield, Stacey S, et al. “Use of Causal Language in Observational Studies of Obesity and Nutrition.” Obesity Facts, 3 Dec. 2010.  15. Lavie, Carl J, et al. “Obesity and Cardiovascular Disease: Risk Factor, Paradox, and Impact of Weight Loss.” Journal of the American College of Cardiology, 26 May 2009.  16. Uretsky, Seth, et al. “Obesity Paradox in Patients with Hypertension and Coronary Artery Disease.” The American Journal of Medicine, Oct. 2007.  17. Mullen, John T, et al. “The Obesity Paradox: Body Mass Index and Outcomes in Patients Undergoing Nonbariatric General Surgery.” Annals of Surgery, July 2005. 18. Tseng, Chin-Hsiao. “Obesity Paradox: Differential Effects on Cancer and Noncancer Mortality in Patients with Type 2 Diabetes Mellitus.” Atherosclerosis, Jan. 2013.
Fatness was associated with only 1/3 the associated deaths that previous research estimated and being “overweight” conferred no increased risk at all, and may even be a protective factor against all-causes mortality relative to lower weight categories [19].
19. Flegal, Katherine M. “The Obesity Wars and the Education of a Researcher: A Personal Account.” Progress in Cardiovascular Diseases, 15 June 2021.
Studies have observed that about 30% of so-called “normal weight” people are “unhealthy” whereas about 50% of so-called “overweight” people are “healthy”. Thus, using the BMI as an indicator of health results in the misclassification of some 75 million people in the United States alone [20]. 
20. Rey-López, JP, et al. “The Prevalence of Metabolically Healthy Obesity: A Systematic Review and Critical Evaluation of the Definitions Used.” Obesity Reviews : An Official Journal of the International Association for the Study of Obesity, 15 Oct. 2014.
While epidemiologists use BMI to calculate national obesity rates (nearly 35% for adults and 18% for kids), the distinctions can be arbitrary. In 1998, the National Institutes of Health lowered the overweight threshold from 27.8 to 25—branding roughly 29 million Americans as fat overnight—to match international guidelines. But critics noted that those guidelines were drafted in part by the International Obesity Task Force, whose two principal funders were companies making weight loss drugs [21].
21. Butler, Kiera. “Why BMI Is a Big Fat Scam.” Mother Jones, 25 Aug. 2014. 
Body size is largely determined by genetics [22].
22. Wardle, J. Carnell, C. Haworth, R. Plomin. “Evidence for a strong genetic influence on childhood adiposity despite the force of the obesogenic environment” American Journal of Clinical Nutrition Vol. 87, No. 2, Pages 398-404, February 2008.
Healthy lifestyle habits are associated with a significant decrease in mortality regardless of baseline body mass index [23].  
23. Matheson, Eric M, et al. “Healthy Lifestyle Habits and Mortality in Overweight and Obese Individuals.” Journal of the American Board of Family Medicine : JABFM, U.S. National Library of Medicine, 25 Feb. 2012.
Weight stigma itself is deadly. Research shows that weight-based discrimination increases risk of death by 60% [24].
24. Sutin, Angela R., et al. “Weight Discrimination and Risk of Mortality .” Association for Psychological Science, 25 Sept. 2015.
Fat stigma in the medical establishment [25] and society at large arguably [26] kills more fat people than fat does [27, 28, 29].
25. Puhl, Rebecca, and Kelly D. Bronwell. “Bias, Discrimination, and Obesity.” Obesity Research, 6 Sept. 2012. 26. Engber, Daniel. “Glutton Intolerance: What If a War on Obesity Only Makes the Problem Worse?” Slate, 5 Oct. 2009.  27. Teachman, B. A., Gapinski, K. D., Brownell, K. D., Rawlins, M., & Jeyaram, S. (2003). Demonstrations of implicit anti-fat bias: The impact of providing causal information and evoking empathy. Health Psychology, 22(1), 68–78. 28. Chastain, Ragen. “So My Doctor Tried to Kill Me.” Dances With Fat, 15 Dec. 2009. 29. Sutin, Angelina R, Yannick Stephan, and Antonio Terraciano. “Weight Discrimination and Risk of Mortality.” Psychological Science, 26 Nov. 2015.
There's my "proof." Where is yours?
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cirie-won-thirty-four ¡ 1 year ago
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TW***** Calorie talk
It is extremely alarming how many people don’t know that alcohol has SO MANY calories…
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logaenhowlett ¡ 1 month ago
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TEACH YOU HOW TO GET TO PUREST HELL - L.H.
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Summary: On the way to one of his cage fights, Logan's truck begins to break down and that's how he meets you, the owner of a repair shop in Northern Alberta. He promises to pay you with his winnings - but what he ultimately offers is far more interesting.
Pairing: Logan Howlett x Female Reader
Warnings: Smut 18+ only, Fluff, Flirting, Dirty talk, Praise kink, Fingering, Unprotected sex (against the cage), Aftercare, Logan's a snarky motherfucker (but secretly a softie)
A/N: The filthiest 4k I've ever written. I just know he was a menace during his cage fighter era. It's okay though, I'll still be clawing at the enclosure. Title creds to Radiohead. Hope you enjoy!
MASTERLIST
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Smoke curls around him, bearing a semblance of warmth against the biting wind. Logan's grip on the steering wheel is loose, the other arm draped lazily across the window. He flicks his fingertips ever so often, the ashes of his cigar disappearing into the falling snow. Mile after mile, the same barren landscape stretches before him.
He's lost amidst the silence, having turned the radio all the way down in frustration at the nonsense plaguing the stations earlier. As sunshine glares through the windshield, he scrunches his eyebrows, vaguely entertaining some ideas swirling in his mind.
Hours pass by painfully slow. He tries to ignore the low rumbling that interrupts his flow of thoughts, body firmly protesting against this all-alcohol diet he'd unintentionally adopted. Logan skims a hand into the glove compartment, clicking his tongue when he discovers only a few wrappers lying inside. Slumping back into the seat, he takes another drag, disappointment etching onto his features.
An orange, flashing icon on the dashboard snaps his attention. His eyes dart to the blinking light, a sense of irritation washing over him when he recognises the ‘check engine’ symbol. In a haste, he pulls the truck over, slamming the door shut behind him as he ventures into the cold to inspect the issue. Though he has an extensive knowledge of motorcycles, by no means does that expertise carry over to whatever mess he finds beneath the hood. Logan returns with a sigh, recalling a faded road sign he'd passed ages ago - at least he isn't awfully far from his destination.
In the distance, the town welcome monument brings him some sort of peace. After driving by plenty of dimly lit diners and pubs, he reluctantly asks a stranger for directions to the nearest repair shop. Logan arrives shortly thereafter, parking at the entrance of this seemingly empty building. Curious, he scans the place, sliding out of his seat in search of anyone.
The distinct ring of metal hitting the floor has him spinning around. He fights back the amused huff at the sight of you, bottom lip slightly caught between his teeth in an attempt to stop the smirk threatening to break free. His eyes rake over your figure as you come closer - appreciating the way your overalls perfectly capture the slopes and curves of your body - before finally, rising to meet your unimpressed expression.
"What're you here for?"
There's a smidge of annoyance in your words, a reaction he very much enjoys being the reason for. He nods towards the truck parked out front, "Problem with the engine."
When you brush past him, Logan spots a name neatly embroidered onto your otherwise soiled clothes. Smiling, he follows after you, shamelessly dropping his gaze to your ass for a moment.
Waiting patiently while you poke around the hood, he steals glances at your profile, filled with the sudden urge to wipe away the grease stain remnants off your cheeks, "Yeah... looks like the head gasket needs replacing."
Logan groans to himself before agreeing with your judgment. He runs a hand across his face, stilling in brief confusion when you chuckle quietly.
"Somethin' funny?" He asks, noting how you browse the insides of his camper with a flair of barely-masked mockery.
"Just admiring the interior design."
That one almost draws a scoff out of him. Logan knows his living quarters are rather bare-bones in nature, at best, providing decent shelter for when he's on the go. Inside, a makeshift bed large enough for a man of his size and basic kitchen appliances - though he rarely uses those. It's all he cares for anyway, yet there's a tinge of self-consciousness he shakes before gruffly responding, "You can do it by tonight?"
"Tonight?" Your eyebrows raise in surprise, "Fine... but it's gonna set you back about three grand."
"I got half for now."
A sharp laugh pierces his ears. And even though it's undoubtedly fake, he thinks you look pretty like this - shooting what can't be anything less than a deadly glare just for him. The corners of his lips tilt up when your tone suddenly becomes stern, "That's not how it works, buddy."
"Listen, I got a fight later, I'll be good for it."
"What? You that sure you're gonna win?"
You're teasing him. You know it, and so does he. Logan studies the way your hand rests against your hip, a challenging glint behind your eyes while you consider this ridiculous suggestion. He moves one step closer and proudly welcomes the surge of satisfaction at the slight crack of your demeanour.
"Darlin', I always win." It's a whisper that leaves him, hushed and dangerously low. Giving your shoulder a playful nudge as he walks by, he circles to the trailer behind the truck, retrieving his motorcycle. He smirks, pleased to witness such a glimpse of weakness, "Eleven-thirty. O'Malley's. I'll see you there."
The engine revs with each twist of his wrist, the movement so precise and natural. As he sinks onto the bike, the suspension adjusting to his weight, he sends you a wink.
"And if you lose?" You shout over the blaring sounds.
With one final grin, "Just fix my truck, alright."
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Even from outside, O'Malley's is deafeningly loud. The wooden door creaks lightly with the gentlest push, and a mixture of overly enthusiastic yells paired with the clashing of glass greet your presence. You're no regular here whatsoever, but the fights that occur in this bar are usually the talk of the town. And despite its reputation, you've never had much interest in being surrounded by a crowd of angry, intoxicated men - all drowning beneath the crude insults and empty threats tossed into the air.
Some of the patrons, customers you recognise from work, acknowledge you with a polite smile while you settle into a booth near the cage. As you observe the utter chaos around the room, it only cements your distaste for this so-called form of entertainment. The current match's loser staggers past your table, barely walking on two feet even with the support of his friends.
All you can think about is returning home with your hard-earned cash. It was a rather tiring day, running around salvage yards scouring for spare parts to tend to the old piece of junk he'd called a truck. Not to mention the unforgiving weather, which seemed determined to make your day more miserable. And to top it all off, the jerk wanted it done by nightfall - the audacity! Just the simple reminder of today's events has your body tensing from restlessness.
Behind you, a group of men sneer amongst themselves and between their slurring, the words "pretty boy" and "his ass kicked" grasp your attention. Turning around, you watch as they hand over money to some younger fella, taunting others to join the bet. Oh, that makes your blood boil. This Logan had strolled into your shop with nothing but a superficial promise for your services, and now, he's presumed to lose?
You stand up abruptly, peering across the space in search of him. A rush of fury courses through you at the same time you spot him casually lounging in the corner. As you approach, the faint glow of the bulb illuminates his face, a cloud of smoke momentarily hiding the smirk playing on his lips. His chuckle cuts through the hum of the jukebox he's leaning on, eyes crinkling with a kind of smugness at your arrival.
"You're joking." The bottle of whiskey between his fingers shocks you the most, "Are you seriously getting drunk before your fight?"
Logan grins at your concerned expression, eyes tracing you up and down, "You fix it?"
"Yes, I fucking fixed it. Took me all day!" Fists clenching, you stare at him intently, "Look, I did my job - you better do yours."
"Don't worry 'bout it, darlin'. I'm a man of my word." He dismisses you completely, taking a prolonged swig of his drink. A beat passes before he lazily holds up two fingers right to your face, "Scout's honour."
He laughs again when you roughly shove his hand aside, not sparing another second for this cocksure attitude. You grumble under your breath, making your way back to the booth, "It's three fingers, asshole."
A few matches take place over the next hour, and you're only getting more antsy as each of the competitors exits the cage with nothing short of bloody faces and broken bones. The audience roars all of a sudden, some even rattling the fence as this new person strides into the threshold.
Of course, he'd stripped his shirt off and the sight of his muscle-toned chest only serves to further fuel your irritation. Logan's eyes find yours immediately, looking past the crowd of hecklers now whistling at him. With a nod, he throws you a confident smirk and turns to his rival.
The man he's up against is much more burly and has a couple of inches on him. Though that doesn't seem to faze Logan in the slightest, instead he's flexing his arms almost playfully before adopting a fighting stance. Every punch and kick has you twitching in your seat, your feet firmly stuck to the ground in anticipation.
Remembering how he'd chugged an entire bottle of liquor earlier, you're astonished by the ferocity with which he attacks his opponent, dodging most moves with deadly precision. As he lands more jabs, the spectators begin to jeer and boo, swarming the enclosure of the cage in a tantrum. You peek over their shoulders, ducking away from the things they're flinging around. There's a collective gasp when he knocks out the other man, and you sigh in relief.
Leaning towards the cage, a cigar lightly pressed against his mouth, Logan's focus shifts to you. His chest is heaving from all the physical exertion, skin damp from the sweat. As he exhales the smoke, blowing a kiss in your direction, a satisfied expression returns to his face. He runs a hand through his wet hair, leaving the arena with no regard for the protesting crowd.
You follow after him, squeezing through the tightly packed space. He's settling a score with the owner, a wad of rolled cash passing between them as a reward. After a nod of mutual agreement, Logan faces you, tossing his leather jacket on. And while you're ultimately happy he won, there's also this urge to smack the cheeky look that seems to be glowing as you come closer.
What's more upsetting is the fact that he is undeniably gorgeous - especially like this, all sweaty and wound up from the adrenaline rushing inside. And of course, he doesn't miss how your gaze wanders to the sliver of skin peeking through his jacket, every slight movement only revealing more.
Logan grabs a few bills from the roll of money and stuffs them into his back pocket, holding the rest out towards you. As you reach for the cash, he swiftly draws his hand back with a teasing smile, "Have a drink with me."
"No."
"C'mon." He drags out, repeating the same thing when you try again, "No one needs their cute, little mechanic right now."
Watching you sigh triggers a thrill of excitement, an unspoken victory he claims with no shame. With a simple gesture, he leads you towards a secluded booth, determined to make this a worthwhile exchange. Despite your hesitation, he maintains a sort of relaxed energy, draping his arm along the seat - his eyes not straying from yours.
Two shots of vodka are placed on the table and Logan mirrors your action, slowly raising the glass to his lips. In no time, the air of unease dissipates, replaced by a comfortable silence while the drinks keep coming. As the night wears on, casual conversation flows between you and he asks a few things like how long you've lived here, why you became a mechanic and eventually, when he slides you the money, "What now, darlin'? You gonna leave?"
His voice, dripping with honeyed sweetness, sends a shiver down your spine. You can't exactly place the feeling, but it's a tangle of exasperation and something else - something you're not quite ready to define. Instead, you blame it on the drinks, the late hour, and the fact that there's an incredibly attractive man just inches away.
As frustration envelops your thoughts, you suddenly excuse yourself and head towards the bathroom. The alcohol, previously a gentle companion, now seems to be taking its toll. Looking at your reflection in the mirror, you try to fight against the sensations running through your body. The splash of cold water does little to your state of mind, yet you're back outside in what feels like a tilted world, using all your strength to walk straight.
As you brush past the cage, someone collides into you. Desperate for balance, you reach out to grip the fence, but a strong hand lays steady on your lower back. With a gasp and a tilt of your head, you're caught off-guard when Logan comes into your view. His arm snakes around to gently hold your waist, his body now pressing into yours.
Overwhelmed by the sudden proximity, you tear your attention away from him and glance at the wire pricking your fingers, "This is fucking sharp."
He doesn't break the eye contact. A low hum vibrates through his chest as he leans in, the warmth of his breath dancing with yours. The space between you slowly shrinks, whatever lighthearted facade he'd worn earlier vanishes only to be replaced by something raw and inexplicable.
"How're you not bruised?" You whisper, remembering the way he'd been thrown against the cage earlier.
"Call it a special talent."
Despite your better judgment, you find yourself captivated by him, the intensity of his gaze reeling you in. And so, you decide to play his game, "Can you teach me?"
Logan pauses, "You wanna learn... how to fight?"
"Just a little punch or something."
A faint smile spreads across his face, you're absolutely sure he can feel the way your heart is pounding. When his lips lightly brush against your ear, a quiet rumble escapes and something flickers in your gut - a twist of exhilaration laced with a hint of caution.
There's barely anyone left in the bar at this point besides the one or two stragglers hanging around. Logan and you stand alone in the cage, seemingly tucked away in a little pocket of your own. He doesn't wander too far, remaining within an arm's distance while demonstrating the proper technique for a jab - the motion so fluid and effortless.
Your initial attempts to mimic his movements are clumsy and awkward, his amusement only growing more evident with each try. Slipping behind you, he sheds the jacket, once again exposing his glorious muscles and the thought of tracing his vein-riddled biceps with your tongue leaves you dazed for a moment. This time, he circles his arms around you and guides your hands into the correct position.
As you practice, your bodies nudge against each other, his breath fans across your neck and ignites a fire within you. The tension is palpable, the air thick with implicit desire. You can almost feel his gaze burning into you, every second posing a challenge to cross this imaginary line.
The rest of the patrons are ushered out the door, the owner nodding at Logan before disappearing into the back room. And the silence settles in, a stark contrast to all the commotion that lingered for hours prior. You notice the difference, inching towards the exit, "Looks like they're closing up."
Before you can move away, Logan's hand shoots out to catch your wrist, "And we got it all to ourselves."
"What?"
"Might've slipped the owner a little somethin’."
His fingers trail up your arm, thumb gently pushing your soft skin. Slowly, he brings you closer, his words just a whisper of heat on your cheek. You can feel the rise and fall of his chest, a rhythm echoing your own racing heart. Your voice, hoarse and strained, barely manages a response, "Is this how you budget? No wonder you're broke."
It's his laughter that breaks you at first, followed by, "You got a smart mouth, darlin'. Tell me, what else can it do?"
His lips hover mere inches above yours, there's a moment of hesitation hanging in the air - an out, if you don't want this. But, temptation is a dangerous siren and you're already ensnared by her song.
Fuck it.
Logan's dog tags hang pretty between the slopes of your breasts, his mouth moving against yours in a rough, demanding fashion. It's sloppy. It's wet. And it's goddamn heavenly when his fingers thread through your hair, the gap between you now completely erased. You cling to him as if he's an anchor, nails digging into his shoulders while he pins you to the cool metal of the cage.
He wants to touch you. To feel the warmth radiating straight off your body. The straps of your overalls fall from his force, he takes the opportunity to slide one hand through the side, kneading your waist with a kind of tenderness that surprises him too. When you take a second to breathe, Logan peppers kisses along your jawline, then some beneath your ear before grazing his lips on your neck.
The pulsing vein he finds nearly has him growling in pleasure, "Fuck, darlin'... feel so good already... can't wait to taste you when I'm done..."
He stills when you gasp, glancing up through his lashes and then quietly chuckling at your flustered expression. Yet, he can't revel in his victory for any longer than a blink, your palm tilts his head back before you fiercely capture his mouth once more.
His name rolls out your lips, drawn out and glazed with an obvious need. Taking a deep inhale, Logan feels the bulge in his jeans growing with each passing moment. You're only getting restless as his hands roam over your body, becoming nothing more than a whimpering mess all from his doing.
"Lemme hear you for real, baby... don't be shy." His fingers latch onto the cage, using it to thrust forward and deepen the kiss. Your clothes end up pooling at your feet, the barriers between you peeling away with every layer gone. Now, skin to skin, sweat glistening on your brow, you're left bare and vulnerable to his touch.
Logan reaches down, spreading your thighs wide enough till he can push your panties aside, stroking the outside of your entrance. Clenching his jaw when he's met with a distinct wetness, "Hidin' all this for me?" He almost laughs at how you curl forward and then whine his name, craving for any part of him to be inside you, "Hm... what'd you say to me before? Three fingers?
With no warning, he slides exactly three inside your cunt, pumping in and out as best as he can, "So fuckin' tight, darlin'... c'mon... show me you're ready for the real thing." He knows he's doing something right when you squirm at his actions, jumping at the invitation to delicately flick your clit before sinking his fingers back into you.
"Logan-"
Pain consumes you as he continues, tears springing to your eyes. You've never felt pleasure like this, so intense and so profound, words lost amongst the moans trembling out your lips. Your knees begin to shake under the pressure, and his free hand immediately cups your thigh, securing your body to his. As you call out for him, urging him to fuck you senseless, he tugs his fingers away.
The belt flies, jeans tossed behind in an instant and he grunts, freeing his hard length from his boxers. The tip of his cock teases your folds, the precum slicking down from the head. His nose presses against your cheek when your hand runs up and down - getting him all nice and ready. Breath hitching at the sensation, Logan involuntarily bucks his hips, your eagerness carrying him over the edge.
He's careless about lining himself up, giving it no more than a fleeting thought before thrusting into you. Whatever floods your brain at that moment is much more potent than anything you've ever experienced. It's vigorous, almost animalistic in nature, how hard he fucks you. The veins on his arms become more apparent as he hoists you up, pushing you against the cage. He can hear the little fibers of your skin tearing because of the friction, yet he does little to ease that pain, knowing you're enjoying the hurricane of emotions whisking you away.
Logan pants into your tits, nipping at the soft flesh, "Wanted to ruin that pussy since I saw you this mornin'... all dirty and pissed off at me - god. Thought 'bout somethin' else on your face too."
"Logan - don't... fucking stop. Feels amazing... wanna feel all of you." The words escape you - laboured and breathless - your eyes soften in delight, watching this sort of enraptured expression wash across his face, "So good for me, Logan."
So good.
For me.
And boy, if that doesn't spur him on.
Picking up speed, his movements turn greedy, grinding into you with a degree of passion he's never felt before. As you tug his hair, fingers raking through the dark tresses in a frenzy, Logan taps into the primal energy swelling within. His hands squeeze you further, your thighs constricting his waist as he drives up into you, "That's it baby... fuckin' perfect. Takin' all of me like a good girl... mhmm."
The way your body helplessly arches has him grinning, but that quickly gets swept away when his cock twitches inside you, aching to burst at any given moment. He tries his hardest to control himself, longing for your cries of pleasure as you finish. Thrusts weakening to a leisurely pace, Logan grunts into your neck, mumbling a string of curses while he rides out this wave. Thankfully, you're on the precipice as well, your body reaching its peak with a shiver.
His cum trickles out of you, thighs getting sticky as it seeps lower and lower. Lost in a daze, Logan thinks he can see the damn sun in your eyes. With a gentle swipe of your cunt, he sheepishly licks his own fingertips, a smile brightening his face.
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The mattress, once a source of great discomfort, now feels like paradise as you cuddle into the crook of his neck, the soft rhythm of your breath soothing him to a state of peace. He'd carried you to his truck earlier, threatening you with a barrage of kisses when you dangled his keys in front of him. There was a rather short game of tag before you relented and collapsed into his embrace, tiredly blinking up at him. He'd tucked the loose strands of your hair back then tenderly caressed your cheek. It took all but one affectionate grin to convince you to spend the night in his camper.
Not a single inch of your body is free from his touch. He pulls you even closer, tracing patterns around the tiny scratches spreading across your shoulders. If you'd asked him yesterday, he would tell you he has no plans of sticking around this town, grown used to a life of impermanence. Yet, as he rests, tangled in your arms, Logan finds a reason to stay.
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starlightsalvatore ¡ 6 months ago
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hunger / damon salvatore x reader
i'm back !!! I needed to write a damon one-shot while I work on a new fic and this just tumbled right out of me lol
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hunger / damon salvatore x reader
word count: 3.1k
warnings: everything??? drinking, swearing, blood sharing, oral (m and f receiving), unprotected p-in-v, a tiny bit of degradation?? this is self indulgant filth, seriously 18+ mdni
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You ran a hand through your hair as you walked back and forth, unsure of what else to do with the restless energy surging through your system as you tried to fight one of your most basic, primal urges… hunger. Your fingers drummed against your thigh as you tried to focus on anything else, find something in your brain worth occupying your mind and switching course from the visuals running through your head. Your recent transition had been a shock to everyone, and Stefan had you on a tight leash to keep you in check… and you’d been on board, at first. You never wanted to cause harm, to be the reason someone else’s life ended, but with the itch in your veins threatening to undo you completely you couldn’t really find it in you to care anymore.
You heard your door push open and your head snapped up to see Damon walking in, two glasses and a bottle in his hand with an unamused expression, “if you don’t knock it off I’m going to have to replace the floor,” he said, setting everything on the dresser before pouring two generous cups of bourbon. 
“Not now, Damon,” you sighed, ignoring him entirely as your feet remained on course.
“Wanna talk about it?” he asked and you shook your head.
“Not really,” you said as he shoved a glass in your hand, his eyes telling you to drink which you did… all in one gulp and he was a little surprised as he took it to refill. 
“Well, something’s gotta give,” he replied as you finished the second as quickly as the first. “At this rate the bottle will be gone in a minute and I’m not replacing original flooring.” He gripped your shoulders, halting your movements and you huffed, looking up at him.
“I’m hungry, Damon,” you said, as if it pained you to do so and he furrowed his brow.
“The freezer is full- oh,” he cut himself off, realizing that’s not what you meant as a smirk spread across his features. “You want your blood at 98.6,” he said and you rolled your eyes, pushing him off you.
“Will you cut it out?” You poured another glass, hoping at some point the alcohol would subdue your cravings but you knew that was about as likely as him leaving you alone, so you tried another angle. “I can’t… Damon, the blood bags aren’t doing it for me, I can’t think, I can’t sleep… will you please take me out?” For a moment you thought he’d say yes, revel in the opportunity to feed with abandon with someone else, but it wasn’t that easy.
“No can do, sweetheart,” he replied and your brows pinched. “I’ve got enough on my plate without you losing control and giving me more bodies to deal with.” He was right, there was too much going on and you spinning out wasn’t an option, but that didn’t make it any easier of an answer to tolerate. He gave you a once over, it wasn’t as if he didn’t want to take you out… he would have loved to, but you were new and he knew you could eventually get to where he was, one day you’d be able to feed and leave them alive with no memory of what had happened, but that day wasn’t today, you had a long way to go and he couldn’t afford to have you slip up.
But… he couldn’t afford to have you slip up. One look told him you were wound tight, the diet Stefan had you on was restrictive, never enough to fully satisfy, and the less you drank the tighter you spun, threatening a catastrophic snap he could only assume was looming on the horizon with how frustrated you looked right now. He ran through his options, knowing letting you sit in this hunger any longer would result in a much bigger problem, but the only thing he could think of posed another set of issues and would lead to him teetering on the edge instead of you.
He let out a sigh, closing the distance between you and plucking the glass from your hands to discard on the dresser and you looked up at him questioningly, the invasion of space catching you by surprise. His normally bright eyes were dark and swimming with something you couldn’t understand, deep blue pools you found yourself getting lost in as you waited for him to say something. “You need to feed,” he said and your eyes fluttered shut just at the thought.
“I need to feed,” you whispered and he nodded, catching your chin between his fingers and forcing your head back up when you tried to look down and the action had your breath catching somewhere in your throat. 
“You still haven’t felt it, have you?” he asked, voice low and you shuddered. “What it’s like to sink your teeth into something…” you shook your head, Stefan hadn’t allowed you to drink anything that didn’t come from a cup. “Poor thing,” he chuckled, he could feel the tension radiating off you in waves, you were practically shaking beneath him as you fought to retain your grip on your sanity, on your control.
“Damon,” you sighed, eyes pleading and he just smiled as he gripped your hand and brought it up to his neck, the pulse beneath your fingers driving you wild. 
“When you feed you have to be careful… if you bite just along here,” he said, dragging your fingers along the vein, “you can control the flow. It doesn’t have to be messy,” he explained and you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the subtle way his skin moved with each beat of his heart, the sight bringing the veins beneath your eyes to the surface, your fangs descending.
“Don’t fight it,” he said, noticing you trying to rein it in, and you were having a hard time focusing on anything with the way his hands were trailing up your arms, pulling you closer. “Go on,” he tilted his head just slightly, “give it a try.” he encouraged and this pulled your focus, eyes snapping to his as you tried to ascertain if he was being serious. You had a lot left to learn, but blood sharing was personal, and you knew that… but all you saw in those dark blue eyes was a fire simmering beneath the surface you were sure was a mirror image of your own.
You slowly reached onto your tiptoes, as if he were a deer in the woods threatening to startle and bolt, but the closer you got the harder it was to resist, anticipation burning through your veins at the prospect of giving in. Your fangs were tentative as they broke the skin just where he’d indicated, but the first drop of blood immediately made you feel dizzy and intoxicated… It wasn't enough. You quickly grew feverish, your hand wrapping around his throat as you surged forward, crashing into the wall behind you and he let out a grunt as his back collided with the hard surface, pinned in place as you fed.
“There you go… that’s it,” he said, leaning back as he relaxed and let you take what you needed. His arm snaked around your waist while a hand brushed the hair from your face, cradling the back of your head as warm blood radiated through your body. A soft groan fell from his lips as you drank from him, and the sound elicited an unexpected reaction from you, your hand tightening around his throat and your body pushing flush against his and despite everything in you telling you to continue, you forced yourself back knowing if you didn’t stop you’d bleed him dry. 
Your eyes were wild and satisfied as they met his, and he dragged his thumb across your bottom lip, collecting the remnants and you were almost surprised when your lips wrapped around him, ensuring you didn’t waste a single drop. His smirk returned when he felt your tongue slide across his skin, “better?” he asked and you nodded, keeping him in your mouth for maybe a second longer than you needed to. The air was charged between you, you’d just crossed a line in the sand and you wanted to push a little further, go a little farther… 
Part of him knew he should put an end to this… stop before it went any further. He knew it before he’d even offered up a vein for you, he knew as soon as he did he’d be teetering on this ledge and he didn’t have that much self control when it came to you. Perhaps, if he really analyzed the situation, he knew somewhere in the back of his mind why you’d been so worked up, he knew what you needed and instead of letting you wreak havoc on the blood cooler he let you push him against a wall and take what you wanted, he let you feed from him in the most intimate way he could think of. 
And when you were looking up at him like that, eyes mischievous and holding an unspoken challenge with his blood still on your plump lips, who was he to resist? Your chest was heaving with anticipation as you waited for him to do something, anything, and the movement was so fast you almost didn’t register his hand curling around your throat, flipping you around and slamming you against the wall with such force you were sure you’d be dead if you were human. Your gasp of surprise was swallowed by his mouth on yours, searing and frenzied as he connected your lips and kissed you with a hunger that rivaled your own only moments ago. 
You both fought for dominance, neither one of you willing to submit just yet but you were outmatched… he grabbed your wandering hands and pinned them above your head, grip so tight you whined as he kissed down your neck, biting into you the same way you’d done with him and you couldn’t help the moan that fell from your lips as he did. Your hips rolled forward and feeling his hardening length against you gave you the surge of confidence you needed to break your hands free, sliding down his chest to pull his shirt apart, buttons flying and clattering against the floor as you pushed the fabric over his shoulders. 
His lips were greedy across the expanse of your chest as he nipped and sucked the soft skin, tearing your shirt to shreds as he pulled it from you, a mess of fabric in your wake as you surged forward and pushed him into the wall opposite you, regaining your upper hand. Glass shattered on the floor around you as the force rattled the dresser but you couldn’t find it in you to care what had broken as your hands pulled his belt free, fingers quickly undoing the button as you sank to the floor and pulled his jeans with you.
His length stood erect in front of you and you were quick to take him in your mouth, focusing your tongue on his swollen tip as your hand worked what didn’t fit, and you couldn’t help but moan around him at the groan that fell from his lips, “such a good girl,” he cooed, his sweet words undercut by the harsh hand in your hair gripping and pulling you closer, forcing you to gag around him and the sensation had his head falling back against the wall. Tears sprung to your eyes at the sharp pain in your scalp and the way he was hitting the back of your throat, but all you could focus on was the throbbing between your thighs and he didn’t miss the way you clenched them together, desperate for friction. 
You were quickly on your back, too caught up in the moment to bother moving to the bed and you pushed glass aside as he settled between your legs, tearing your underwear off and diving in like a man starved and you could feel his smirk against you at your surprised moan, head hitting the floor as your back arched in pleasure. He switched between your clit and your entrance, not giving either attention long enough to give you what you really needed, and you whined as your fingers threaded through his hair, tugging harshly.
“Damon, please,” you sighed, hips bucking against his face and he focused his attention on your sensitive bundle of nerves, tongue expertly working you up as you shamelessly moaned his name. Somewhere in the back of your mind you knew with the way you kept slamming each other against walls and the floor, the breaking glass, and the sounds falling from both your lips someone might come to make sure you were alright, but you couldn’t find it in you to care… not when he felt as good as he did between your legs. 
Your moan changed in pitch when he slid two fingers into your entrance and it went straight to his cock, his head swimming as he watched you come close to falling apart above him. When he crooked his fingers just so your grip in his hair tightened, pulling him closer as you started to grind against him, “fuck, just like-” you were cut off by your own moan when he started massaging that spot inside you, legs trembling as you careened off the ledge. His touches remained merciless as pure euphoria surged through your veins, your head cloudy as your body trembled. 
“So fucking beautiful,” he muttered against you, kissing his way up your body and you tugged him closer to reconnect your lips, tongues swirling against each other as you tasted yourself on him. His hands felt greedy and possessive as they roamed over you, gripping tight enough to leave bruises that would heal before they even had a chance to form, and it was as if neither of you could get enough. You pushed forward, tugging him up with you and all but throwing him onto the bed and his smirk was devilish as he watched you crawl on top of him.
He looked like he was about to say something but you didn’t give him the opportunity as you kissed him, rough and demanding as your hips settled above his, hand reaching between you to line him up at your entrance and you both let out groans as you took him inch by inch. The stretch was sweet, filling you almost to your breaking point as you settled fully and started to roll your hips against him, shuddering at the feeling.
“Fuck,” he moaned as you started to bounce up and down, setting an unforgiving pace and you felt like you could feel him everywhere, every nerve ending radiating with fire. He sat up to wrap his arms around you, hips bucking to meet yours in a way that had your head rolling back and he took the opportunity to sink his teeth into your neck and you had never felt pleasure like this before. His hand was firm around your throat as your body shook with each thrust and soon you were boneless in his lap, only able to hold yourself upright as he drank you in. 
When he pulled back you licked along his lips, face changing at the taste of blood and he swore he’d never seen anything sexier. Neither of you was going to last much longer, not like this, and he delivered a rough smack to your ass that had you whining and rolling against him. “Oh my god,” you breathed out, letting your forehead fall against his and he smacked again, gripping the tender skin, “Damon-” you tried, but nothing would come out.
“What’s that, sweetheart?” he teased, gripping your hair and pulling you back to look at him, “oh, look at you… all cock drunk and fucked out,” he teased and you had nothing to say as a firm thrust had you seeing stars. You buried your face in his neck, fangs sinking into his skin as you felt your release barreling towards you, the mixture of blood and his steady thrusts too much to bear and a streak of red trailed down your body as you came, only able to shout his name as you cried out.
Your grip on him was maddening, pulling him right over the edge with you as you milked him for everything he had, and when you both slowed to a stop you were having a hard time catching your breath, your mind floating somewhere above you as you tried to return to your body. You felt his tongue along your chest, cleaning up your mess as you leaned back and he tried to commit the sight to memory… your hair wild, cheeks flushed, and skin dewy as blood lingered along your skin. 
You still weren’t fully with him, stuck in a haze as you felt him whisk you into his bedroom, and into the bathroom and it wasn’t until you were under the stream of water with him that you hummed contently against his lips as he kissed you softly, “there she is,” he chuckled.
His hands were delicate as they roamed you, and yours slid down the front of his chest as you looked up at him, doe eyed and happy. “That was…” you trailed off, unsure of what word to use to fully sum it up and he placed another soft kiss on your lips.
“Everything you ever dreamed of?” he provided and you laughed as you swatted his chest. 
“Hush,” you replied, feigning annoyance but you didn’t have it in you to feel anything other than bliss. The rest of your shower was spent with wandering hands and sweet kisses, a stark contrast to how rough and domineering you’d been with each other and when he pulled you into bed and wrapped himself around you, you looked up at him as your fingers trailed along his chest absentmindedly.
“What are you thinking about?” he asked, and you flushed slightly under his gaze.
“It was more than I dreamed of,” you answered, and he raised a brow in question. “I haven’t… I hadn’t done that since turning, I didn’t know it could be like that,” you explained and realization passed over his features.
“My god,” he chuckled, “no wonder you were wound so tight.” His hand on your back was comfortable, holding you tight against him as he rubbed soothingly, “we’ll go on a little trip this weekend,” he said as you rested your head on his chest.
“A trip?” 
You felt him nod, “away from all the chaos here… we’ll find you some warm bodies and I’ll teach you how to do it the right way, you don’t have to live a life of blood bags forever.” 
“I don’t know, you seemed to do the trick,” you teased and he laughed.
“Sweetheart, you have no idea what you’re missing.” 
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oxymorayuri ¡ 7 months ago
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❞𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐮𝐲𝐬 𝐚𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐝𝐬?❝
Headcanons/Scenarios with my favorite boys [ Ace | Kid | Law | Doffy ] Content Âť Imagine you are pregnant with their child! How will they react? How will they prepare? just cute things ;3 Warnings: In Law's story, we experience an unpleasant birth with a few feelings that could be triggering. NO PROOFREADING
A/N: Not really headcanons… Kind of a mix of HC and scenarios. They're sometimes shorter or longer lol. ^////^
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𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐒𝐓: all images are by vasan5555
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𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐠𝐚𝐫 𝐃. 𝐖𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐚𝐰
Telling him you're pregnant: You don't really tell him. lol.
You don't even know how to tell him. On the one hand, you know he'll be really happy, but on the other hand, you're afraid that it won't fit into his plans.
You sought advice from Ikkaku, but her words weren't really helpful. She suggested throwing a little surprise party because she's really happy for both of you, but you know that wouldn't be a good idea. Announcing to the whole crew that you're pregnant without Law knowing beforehand? Better not, that would overwhelm him.
You had already thought about just leaving the positive pregnancy test in the bathroom, but before you could, Law pulled you aside.
“Hey y/n-ya, are you okay? You've been acting weird lately.” You look around a little panicked, trying to think of an excuse.
“Weird? Ah no, it's probably just because… we haven't been on the surface for a long time… The air in the Polar Tang is getting a bit thin?” you mutter.
His gaze rests knowingly on you. He inhales deeply and rolls his eyes… he knows that something is wrong with you.
He gently grabs you by the shoulders and speaks in a calm voice that makes your heart flutter.
“Don't lie to me… There are clear signs, you know?” You look up a little anxiously without saying anything.
He groans a little. You're not usually so secretive… Now he has to do all the talking. He doesn't really like that, but it's about you after all. He tries to argue with facts he's noticed on you.
“You throw up quite often in the morning. At first I thought it was because you might have been drinking with the others, but then I saw for myself how you didn't take a sip of alcohol. You even refused when Shachi wanted to pour you a drink!” You get smaller and smaller under him as he states the obvious but Law is far from finished…
“According to my calculations, you should already be 6 weeks overdue with your period… Besides, I've seen you raiding the fridge at night, eating the strangest combinations. Cheese and chocolate, are you okay?” - “You stalker!” You're blushing… When you saw those two things, you just had to try them together…
The tears started to fill your eyes when he asked you if you were pregnant. With a small nod, you agreed to his assumption and Law wiped the tears from your cheeks with his thumb.
“I didn't know how to say it and I didn't know what you were going to say… I was scared, Law. You have your plans and…” Your words spilled out a little hysterically and without hesitation he took you in his arms. With his hand on the back of your head, he tried to calm you down with a few gentle strokes while you sniffed in his tight embrace.
“pshhh. It's okay y/n…” His soft voice against your ear calmed you down and as your breathing relaxed he looked firmly into your watery eyes.
“Plans change sometimes and I'm ready for any adventure.” He smirks at you with a sly expression.
His behavior / During pregnancy: Well, let's say he has 'studied' all the books about pregnancy.
You will spend most of your time with the Polar Tang underwater, as Law finds this safest while you are pregnant. However, he is aware of the importance of fresh air and sunshine, so you are regularly on the surface to breathe in the fresh ocean breeze and feel the sun on your skin. You're more than happy to be pregnant because normally you don't surface that often…
-
As your partner and doctor, he personally ensures that you have a balanced diet. He has even asked Sanji for advice. It was only a small call with the Den Den Mushi, but Law doesn't like Sanji very much, as he always fawns over you without any shame. Law knows which ingredients are nutritious but are they tasty? That's where Sanji is a big help.
Law passed on Sanji's greetings to you while you were reading a book on the sofa. You looked after him in surprise as he sat at his desk.
“Um, thanks… Sanji? How come you're on the phone with him?” You know what Law thinks of him. In his eyes, he's a perverted womanizer.
he froze a little when he realized that he had unintentionally told you that he was in contact with Sanji. But now it's too late to talk his way out of it.
“You know, I tried a few dishes that are supposed to give you strength, but they were awful… so I called Black Leg-ya…” He scratches the back of his head as he tries to avoid your gaze.
Belly round, you get up to walk over to Law and rest a hand on his shoulder. Law leans back a little as he looks you in the face. His cheeks turn a soft shade of pink and he makes room for you to sit on his lap.
Without saying much, you thank him and give him a loving kiss on the lips.
“Thank you for always being so thoughtful, Law.”
-
You are freed from your daily chores on the Polar Tang, but sometimes you get so bored that you find yourself doing little chores like washing and hanging up the laundry. No big deal, you think to yourself, but Law sees it quite differently.
“But babe, I'm so bored! It's just laundry…” you pout.
“If you're bored, then do something else, but not housework.” - “How about spending a bit more time with me?” You put your hands on your hips. You're the only one on the ship who has nothing to do while the others are busy and you can't keep them from working all the time…
Law wanted to say something but decided to close his mouth to think.
“Yeah, you know what? You're right. Meet me in the library at noon, I've got an idea.” Determined, Law set off, leaving you dumbfounded. You were expecting a little excuse, but not this. Law just has a few things to do and then he'll make time for you.
You wait for him in the library, a little excited, wondering what Law has prepared.
With a pile of books, he came into the shared library right on time at 12 o'clock and took a seat next to you on the huge sofa.
His idea was to read books with you that you had both bought for the child and so it became routine for you to read the books to each other every day. It was a lot of fun and you had a great time practicing your silly voices and matching it to the story. You are sure that your child will love it when you read to him or her.
Birth/when the baby is around: The birth is turbulent but Law is the perfect man by your side.
He wants to help bring the baby into the world but you are STRICTLY against it! You never want that in your life. He may be a doctor himself, but that's just not for you.
It took a while, but you managed to agree that a doctor from the city would come to you on the ship. A week before your due date, you docked in front of a small island with a peaceful town.
The mood on the entire ship became more and more restless from day to day, because your child wasn't making a move. You're long past the due date and even Law is starting to worry, but you're not making it any easier for him either, because you're refusing any help from Law.
The day you went into labor, the whole ship was on full alert. Bepo, Shachi and Penguin rushed into town to get the doctor on the ship while Law held your hand and did breathing exercises with you.
The birth was slow and you felt like days had passed, the pain was so numbing. Slightly distressed, the doctor began to change the preparations as it turns out your baby hasn't fully rotated yet.
“We have to prepare the operating room for a C-section!” - “C-section???!” Although you can barely hear because of the pain, you have clearly understood 'that'.
“I have to perform a scan while we move to the operating room…”
Things are moving way too fast for you as everyone around you rushes to get your bed and the ultrasound machines ready to head to the operating room.
Law doesn't even leave your side as you scurry down the corridor.
“The umbilical cord has wrapped around your son's neck!” Said the doctor. Desperation spreads through you, you can't relax and are afraid that you will push your son further out of you and strangle him. Wait a minute, a boy? You didn't even know the gender yet…
“Did you hear y/n? It's a boy! Let me make sure our boy gets out of you safely.” the tears run down your cheek uncontrollably. Your emotions are dancing the tango, you are so happy to be bringing a little boy into the world, but you are still afraid of the umbilical cord.
“Please Law, get our Rosinante out of me!” You squint your eyes because you can't see anything through all your tears. Law freezes for a millisecond when he hears the name but quickly pulls himself together.
“Doctor, please move aside.” Somewhat taken aback, the slightly older doctor moved aside and made room for Law.
With the help of Law's devil fruit, he gently extracted your child from your womb and held the crying baby in his arms.
His eyes widened at the sight of the helpless baby and the feeling inside him was as overwhelming as it was beautiful.
You look at him with a weary expression and watch this precious moment until exhaustion overcomes you to the point where you have to close your eyes.
The atmosphere is still very tense and even though you are no longer aware of it, everyone is doing their best to take care of you and Rosinante.
When you open your eyes for the first time, you find yourself in a hospital bed. Your gaze wanders around the room and lands on your side, where Law is asleep holding your hand. The movement wakes him up and he quickly gets up to ask you about your well being. After some time, when Law was sure you were okay, he brought your little boy into the room.
The dark circles under his eyes are nothing compared to the bright smile on his face as he holds your boy in his arms.
“Look Rosinante, mommy is awake. You can finally meet your mother.” The way he looks down at Rosinante… This is how Law always looks at you, full of love. He gently places him in your arms and the little one immediately snuggles up to your chest.
He is so beautiful that it brings tears to your eyes. He has his hair, his wonderful raven black hair. His little eyelids are closed and he sleeps contentedly in your arms. In his mother's arms. In Law's eyes, there is no sight more beautiful than looking at the two of you. He's happier than ever.
“He has your eyes, y/n…” he whispers as he strokes your cheek with gentle fingers.
𝐏𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐠𝐚𝐬 𝐃. 𝐀𝐜𝐞
Telling him you're pregnant: You could scream! No wait a minute, that's exactly what you're doing! XD
Every now and then you take a pregnancy test to be on the safe side. Since you both do it like animals in heat and neither use condoms nor can you be trusted to take your pill regularly, it's better to pee on the strip every now and then.
You look impatiently at the screen of the pregnancy test… A child wouldn't actually be such a bad thing. You and Ace have been a couple for a long time and have an unshakeable bond. Even though you're pirates, you're sure that you can lead a carefree life.
You have good cards with the Whitebeard pirates on the Moby Dick and if things get too rough, you're sure that Whitebeard will find an island within his territory where you'll be safe.
It feels like an eternity as you sit on the lid of the toilet with the test still in your hand. You wonder how Ace will react...
Will he be happy? You bet he will! As you daydream, you notice out of the corner of your eye how a second strip appears on the display.
Your eyes widen. I'M PREGNANT!
You scream like crazy, and when I say crazy I mean so loud that everyone on the ship should hear it.
Tears of joy gather as you do a happy dance in the small bathroom.
All of a sudden the door opens with a bang and Ace looks down at you in panic. He must have thought something else had happened because of your loud scream. It almost sounded as if you had been stabbed. At least that's what he must have thought from the look on his face.
“Babe, WHAT happened?!" He scans your body to see if you've suffered any damage, but you're fine.
With a shrill voice, you throw your arms around his neck and hug him tightly. Ace is visibly confused about the situation. He saw that you were crying but you're acting overly happy.
“What's going on?” His voice is a soft laugh as he hugs you tightly and buries his face in your hair. You lean back a little to look him in the face.
“Ace you're going to be a father!!!” At first he doesn't seem to fully grasp what your words mean but as the realization kicks in his eyes widen.
“ARE YOU PREGNANT?!” he grabs you by the shoulders and shouts in your face.
“YEEEESSS!” you shout back as the tears well up in your eyes.
“Please don't mess with me, are we really going to be parents?” His voice cracks a little and you nod silently to him and show him the test you took.
“That's awesome! We have to celebrate!” Just as he was about to leave the bathroom, he stops abruptly and looks at you with a serious face.
“But you're not allowed to drink alcohol!” Even though you roll your eyes, you have to giggle.
“I'm aware of that, my darling.” You go up on your toes to kiss him on the cheek and gently squeeze his hand.
Before you share the happy news, you share a loving moment together and kiss before walking out.
His behavior / During pregnancy: You know he's going to be the dad of the year after how he treats you.
He has taken time off for the duration of your entire pregnancy, with the clear permission of Whitebeard, to be at your side whenever you need him.
You never ask for anything in particular, but he is actually quite attentive and if he sees you putting your feet up with a heavy moan and relaxing on the deck, he comes straight over to pamper you with a foot massage.
-
He once made the extra effort to go to a special island for over 2 days because there was fruit there that you had an extreme craving for.
The funny thing is that he got you so many that at some point you couldn't see them anymore. He had tried to get more creative to avoid wasting the fruits and so he woke you up every morning with a glass of freshly squeezed juice.
He had even tried his luck at baking, but that went terribly wrong… But you found the idea incredibly cute and that's how you found your shared hobby - baking!
Together you created the most delicious things from the leftover fruits and jokes quickly started going around that if you two should settle somewhere, you should definitely open a small bakery.
You don't think that's such a bad idea. A perfect plan B.
-
He is literally glued to your belly and loves to feel your child through your skin. He didn't just cry once, but actually every time he felt your little one kick.
“Oh wow y/n did you feel that?” with his cheek resting on your stomach, he looks excitedly up at your face. You run a hand through his black hair and giggle in response.
“Of course I can feel it, after all, the baby is in my belly.” A little red in the face, he cuddles you and wraps his arms around you.
“Hehe that's true, you're right. I'm just so excited.” - “Me too, Ace…”
Birth/when the baby is around: If one of you is panicking then it's definitely Ace.
You approached him with weak feet to tell him that your water had broken and he immediately jumped up in panic to dash to you.
He definitely didn't know what to do with himself and ran back and forth in a panic to pack some of your things.
You look at him in confusion, not understanding what he is packing all your things for…
“Ace… Ace, stop!” you reach for him as he rushes past you.
“Why are you packing these things, I'm going to give birth on the Moby Dick, remember?” Ace suddenly seemed to remember and dropped the suitcase, which was barely closed.
There were various things scattered on the floor that had fallen out of the suitcase. A short glance at the floor and you burst out laughing.
What on earth has he packed? A few things are halfway understandable, but why would you need a bikini now? Not to mention that you're only going to Marco's infirmary to give birth. If you need anything, then someone else will get it… After all, your room is only a few meters away.
He carefully carried you in his arms to the infirmary and luckily for you, the birth took place without any complications.
When Marco wanted to hand the baby over to Ace, Ace didn't want to hold your little one in his arms at first.
“Oh no, give it first y/n, she had all the hard work so she should be first.” Even though he wanted you to have it first, he gazed longingly after the baby as Marco placed it in your arms.
He sat down on a chair next to you and clasped his hands together, watching you with pure pride.
You can hardly believe it yourself, but you are overjoyed…
“Ace, we're parents now…”
-
Ace loves to play with the child, even changing diapers is no problem. He is already looking forward to running around the deck of the Moby Dick with your child.
-
He always has a few bottles filled with milk on his belt and with the help of his devil fruit he can heat them up. It's like he's wearing a belt with grenades, you know? :D He skillfully spins the bottle in his hand and warms it to the perfect temperature to feed your hungry baby. You don't have to say anything or rush to the child because Ace is a responsible dad and loves to look after the little one.
-
Your child is just as much a ray of sunshine as you are and has the wild features of Ace. A combination that is impossible to resist.
Ace is definitely the fun parent of the two of you. You can already see how difficult it will be for him to stand his ground later on.
𝐃𝐨𝐧𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐱𝐨𝐭𝐞 𝐃𝐨𝐟𝐥𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐨
Telling him you're pregnant: He wants you to bear his child.
You don't need to 'confess' it to him because it's a planned child. You are actively trying to get pregnant and as active as you are in bed, it didn't take long for the pregnancy test to come back positive.
“Wonderful news my little dove… You should be rewarded. What do you say? What does my little dove want, huh?” He leans down to you and lifts your chin with his finger.
There's a slight blush on your cheeks because Doflamingo's voice always sounds so seductive, no matter what he says. For a moment, you think about what he said. You're still a little excited that you're carrying his child.
“fufufufu… Is there anybody home in that pretty little head of yours?” a crooked grin graces his lips as he flicks your forehead.
You quickly regain your composure but your face turns red.
“Ah, I'm sorry my love, I'm just really happy that I've lost my voice.”
His laughter rings deep through the room as he pulls you onto his lap.
When you came into his office, he knew exactly what kind of message you had for him because when he's working, even you can't disturb him unless he calls for you.
He lavishes your hand with soft kisses and travels along your arm with more kisses until he gets past your neck and to your mouth.
You enjoy his tender touch as if it were already the reward, but you know that Doflamingo wouldn't accept this, so you think about it while you kiss sensually.
His big hands run over your figure and find a hold on your ass. He interrupts your kiss and if you pay close attention you can guess where his eyes are behind those red sunglasses.
“Tell me my love, what would make you even happier, huh?”
His whisper tickles your lips a little and in the back of your mind you already have an idea of what you want the most.
“Doffy, I really want to go shopping with you and buy things for the baby…” - “Your wish is my command.”
His behavior / During pregnancy: Hardly any different than before, but you'll be even more pampered.
Doflamingo will provide you with all the necessary servants to look after your wellbeing, and when you go into the city, more bodyguards than usual will follow you wherever you go.
His remark is still stuck in your mind: “…After all, there are 2 people to protect now…” he said to you as you were baffled by the amount of guards.
-
Even if he has to work a lot as king, he will always find time for you. He likes to take you out, and with luxurious appointments at the spa or a private visit to a hot spring, he'll make sure you're always relaxed.
Princess treatment is nothing new to you but since you are pregnant you have at least one professional massage a day besides the other appointments you have for your own comfort.
Manicure, pedicure, hairdresser, face masks, aqua aerobics to relax your tired bones, you name it.
-
The chefs are warned that whenever you are hungry for whatever, they have to prepare your every wish. No matter how late.
You fancy a special dish from the South Blue? Doflamingo had brought someone specially for you who can prepare any specialty with brilliance. He shows you his love through acts of service.
Birth/when the baby is around: He is smitten with the little miracle you have created and is already filled with pride.
He won't be there at birth but he will be the first one you see when you open your eyes. Just when you are at your most vulnerable, he will leave it to no one but himself to protect you.
-
You never thought Doflamingo could be so loving to a baby, but when you thought about it, he was always good to the kids in the gang. From the outside it may look like he's only interested in the skills, but you know for a fact that he respects and loves each of them as a member of the family.
At first you were a bit worried because you gave birth to a girl. After all, you were supposed to give him an heir to the throne.
“My dearest, that you have given me a daughter who is just as beautiful as her mother is like a gift from the gods.” While a few servants took care of your sweet girl to give you a break, he made certain insinuations.
“And who says one child is enough for me?”
His fingers gently stroked your skin while you had brunch on a picnic blanket in the castle garden. You blush immediately because you know exactly what he's getting at.
Another child with Doffy? You look after your daughter as she plays happily wearing a little pink feather dress that resembles Doflamingo's cape.
You shyly confess to him that you would love to have more children from him and before you could really finish talking he took you in his arms, ordered the servant to continue looking after your daughter and whisked you away to your bedchamber.
-
Doflamingo actually loves to dress your child :3
You know… You, him and your daughter in matching clothes… You're always well dressed.
𝐄𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐬 𝐊𝐢𝐝
Telling him you're pregnant: He thinks you're joking and laughs as he turns his back to you and continues fixing his metal arm.
“I'm sorry Kid but I'm serious. I'm pregnant!”
He turns around because of your serious yet trembling voice.
You're not entirely happy either. You'd like to be happy, but you and Kid? Is that such a good idea? You stroke your arm feeling a little insecure as you stand in his workshop like a lost mess.
“Pregnant women have no place on the Victoria Punk…” - “What's that supposed to mean? Are you kicking me off the crew?!” You interrupt him with a raised voice. Your face is already turning red, but not from anger. You try to suppress your tears.
He grits his teeth in annoyance and approaches you with a pulsating vein on his forehead.
“What the fuck y/n! NO. Of course not!” You should just let him finish before you imagine something stupid.
He grabs you by the shoulders and pulls you close so that your noses are touching.
His eyes are filled with rage. You are always too hasty with your assumptions…
You look a little startled, but you know he's no threat to you when he gets this close because his grip is still gentle... You immediately regret accusing him of something like that. You know he would never kick you out of the gang. You were just too emotional…
His behavior / During pregnancy: He is constantly thinking of ways to do something useful for you and the baby but you hardly notice any of that.
His behavior doesn't really change in front of you. He's still a short tempered dickhead and that often leads to problems between you, especially now that you're having such hormonal swings.
-
It can always be dangerous on the Victoria Punk and sometimes you'll have to fight in the middle of the open sea. If Kid isn't around then Killer definitely is, because you are not 'allowed' to lift a finger.
You found this quite annoying in the first few weeks, after all you are still able to move quite well and you love to jump into the fight with the others.
After your first argument regarding this, you went your separate ways in a rage. A very typical picture after an argument between you; Kid disappears into his workshop and you flee to the crow's nest. What follows is days of ignoring each other until one of you can't take it anymore. But this time Killer followed you.
Killer broke the silence between you by simply telling you that Kid had a valid reason why you shouldn't fight and that you should please let him finish his explanation without butting in. A little offended, you wanted to say something at first, but you drop your shoulder and close your mouth. Even if you're angry, Killer doesn't deserve to suffer your rage. Kid is the one your anger is directed at. Your silence is Killer's signal that he is free to speak.
Your angry face quickly changed to a tearful one. The reason is as simple as it is understandable and you curse at Kid in a sobbing voice.
“Why doesn't he fucking tell me like you just did!” Your masked friend shrugs. That's a question that even Kid himself might not be able to answer.
“I think he's pissed off why you don't just let him do it, like you don't trust his decisions and then he gets…” “…Furious.” you finish his sentence. That's what Kid is like, a hothead but your hothead.
“Yep. Furious.” - “Argh! My fucking goodness no! I just don't want to be a burden and join the fight!” You feel bad.
Kid knows that you don't have a round belly at the beginning of your pregnancy, but Killer told you in secret that he's been reading books about pregnancy. Kid can read? That's the first thing that surprises you and then the fact that he reads pregnancy books of all things!
Not even you thought about it and suddenly you feel like a bad mom. Kid is really worried about you because he has read that stress and physical activity are a risk no matter what stage you are in.
The same evening you two reconciled. You apologized to him and didn't question anything, because otherwise Killer would be in serious trouble. Since then, you've simply accepted your fate.
-
You made an unexpected discovery in his workshop... There was a rather large object 'hidden' in the room, covered up so that you could only make out a rectangular shape.
Kid never covers anything in his workshop, so you got curious and looked what was hidden under the big cloth. You could hardly believe your eyes as you rubbed them in disbelief.
There was a crib in front of you and you're pretty sure he built it. The frame is up for debate, as the crib is made entirely of metal and almost looks like a cage that is open at the top… The metal bars give you prison vibes but your heart melts at his efforts.
On closer inspection, it actually looks quite cute too. He's even made a mobile with small figurines that look like fish and sea kings.
You don't even notice how the door opens behind you as you spin the mobile.
“So you found it, huh?” Startled, you turn around with one hand on your chest. You were so immersed that you didn't hear Kid coming up behind you.
With tears streaming down your face, you throw your arms around Kid's neck.
“I LOVE IT!”
Kid is generally proud of his work but your words are like music to his ears and with a grin he returns your embrace.
-
“What are you doing y/n?” You jolt as you push the furniture around in your shared room. Still standing on the doorstep with his hand on the handle, Kid looks at you with a raised eyebrow. You were just about to push an armchair across the room and in the middle of your movement you stop and grin at him, somewhat caught off guard.
“Uh, I… I'm just making some space…” - “Space?” A little annoyed, you raise an eyebrow; he could help you rather than ask you weird questions, after all, you're heavily pregnant. You put your hands on your hips a little bitchily.
“Yes, space! Don't just stand there and start helping. I'll make room for the baby?” Kid grumbles and sits down on the armchair. Confused, you gesture to him what this is supposed to mean, that clearly isn't any help. Kid's behavior confuses you a little, because his attitude is so different than usual.
Somehow he looks 'thoughtful'… Normally, he would have grabbed the armchair with his metal arm and taken it to where you want it. Why is he sitting down and looking at you with that confusing expression?
You raise your eyebrows questioningly and wait for a reasonable explanation. Struggling to find the right words, he scratches his chin, with his eyes focused elsewhere.
What's wrong with him? He seems to be lost in his thoughts? You don't recognize that from him. He seems to be preoccupied with something, but instead of ranting out loud or speaking rashly, he sits in front of you almost calmly.
His gaze tends to avoid you as he stares absently into space and you lean down towards him, visibly confused. His eyes look directly into yours and he groans a little irritated.
“Listen, you don't have to make room here because the baby's not moving in.” With your eyebrows drawn together, you lean back again and look down at the redhead. Well, not really down because Kid is pretty tall, let's say you're looking at him at eye level.
“Excuse me? The baby's not moving in here? The baby is not a roommate who we don't want to move in with… The…-” You stop your sentence abruptly and look down at your lips, where Kid's hand is resting. Kid doesn't have the nerve to listen to your rambling. You're taking it the wrong way again. But that's more his fault, because he always says things so stupidly, he's aware of that, but he's trying his best.
“Shut up for once, will you?” - “Excuse me?” You let out a muffled voice through his hand.
He growls at you a little as he lets go of you and stands up. Your gaze goes up to him while his goes down to you. There you both stand in front of each other, each with an annoyed look on your face.
“Do you remember that the Victoria Punk is no place for babies?” You think for a moment. You remember that and the fact that you thought he was going to kick you from the crew. You didn't really discuss what he meant by that, but now you're all ears.
“You and the baby will live in our hideaway.” - “WHAT?!” You're so perplexed that you spit a bit at him. Without taking his eyes off you, he wipes the spit off his chin. A little blushed, you mumble an apology.
Kid has no intention of leaving you there alone. He'll stop by often and try to stay as long as he can, but as captain, he has a duty to run his ship. He has made it clear to you in a surprisingly calm voice that it would not be a good environment for your child to grow up on the Victoria... If at all. It's too dangerous and what if something happens to your child? He's made the decision, that's how it's going to be done and there's no changing that.
You can more than understand his thoughts, but it would be nice if he had discussed this with you.
“You know Kid, you may be the captain but I'm still the mother of our child and before you make decisions like this you should talk to me!” You have to tiptoe a little as you point your finger at him. Rolling his eyes, he takes your hand away and gently pulls you towards him.
“You can make all the decisions in the hideout… For example, you can decorate the house however you like. No matter what it costs.” Your eyes light up at his words, “Apology accepted!”
Birth/when the baby is around: You will never see this man cry again. Only in your memories…
When he saw the sleeping face of your picture perfect child for the first time, a switch flipped in him. Who would have thought that Kid would ever have such feelings? The feeling of unfathomable love. The love he has for you is completely different, because he has learned to love you. But this baby? For your child, a love had been born in him that brought tears to his eyes. He will not learn to love this child. No. He will simply love your child more each day!
-
He is a bit reluctant to hold the baby, he even confessed to you that he is afraid of it because of his arm. He doesn't want to crush the baby. Watching him look at you with a crushed look on his face while you hold the baby is making you sad, so you think of something. You wrap a scarf around him and put your little one in the pouch so that he is lying on his chest. The sight is so wonderful. This tall, broad man with a baby carrier! How adorable.
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ggidolsmuts ¡ 3 months ago
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Good Girls in the Dark - Choi Yena
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"Hello, I'm Choi Yena, nice to meet you!"
"Omo son why didn't you tell us your girlfriend is so pretty?! Come in come in!" Your mom quickly leads Yena into your home, who's already locking arms with her. "Finally you bring someone back for Chuseok!" she looks back at you and admonishes. You simply shake your head and follow them in.
"You look so young, I thought you were oppa's sister!"
"Oh stop it, you have such a sweet tongue!" 
Yena's a good girl.
At least, that was your initial impression when you met her for the first time—it was supposed to be a Yuehua flex, having Yena drop by to say hi, to congratulate everyone on the successful joint project between Yuehua and your company. Mindful and demure, she was considerate of everyone, smiling and greeting all of you like the energetic idol she is.
True to her energy, she insisted you all go to a club for the afterparty, but the group soon diffuses into the crowd—some people left almost immediately, others stayed for a few drinks, and yet more broke off into their cliques. You try to sneak out too, until Yena somehow gets a hold of you, pulling you into a dark corner of the club. She has a drink in hand, but by now it is empty save for a few drops of whatever she had.
"Why do you keep looking at me?" she demands to know.
"What? I haven't!"
"Don't lie, I saw you sneaking looks." You were, but you didn't think Yena would notice, that you would just blend in with your co-workers.
"How would you know?" you fire back.
"Because I've been looking at you too." It must be the alcohol in Yena talking, for she smashes her lips into yours, tongue immediately pushing into your mouth. She does have a sweet tongue. "Can I trust you?"
"You should have asked me that before you kissed me."
"Oops, oh well. Now answer the question."
"Yes."
"Good, I don't want to go home tonight," she breathes into your ear.
Yena's a good girl in the dark.
"So how did you two meet?" your dad asks during dinner.
"At work! I was at an event for our company, and he was there! He was very nice to me."
"That's all it took? My son is good!"
"Dad don't," you mutter, shaking your head and leaving the table carrying your dishes. At least Yena didn't say it started with a hookup, or your parents would have had an aneurysm. The one night stands became more frequent, and your apartment became a place for stress relief for Yena.
Over time the two of you ended up spending equal amounts of time talking and fucking, and both of you finally gathered the courage to give in to your feelings and agree to start dating—to be fair, neither of you were seeing anyone else anyways, so exclusivity wasn't a discussion that needed to be had. Ironically the dating aspect wasn't really a thing either—Yena was an idol, so any dates you two had were just at your place.
"What? Our son is so charming, he found a celebrity girlfriend! And she eats so much too, I thought you would be dieting or something, I was afraid I made too much!" you hear your mum say.
"No no, that's just a stereotype, I eat more than he does!"
"That's great, you eat so well!"
Yena's a good girl.
~~
"Fuck, you eat me so well," you moan as Yena slurps you, tongue running up the underside of your shaft. It's early in the morning, the sunlight just peeking through the curtains. You can barely make out the shape of Yena in your sleepy haze, but you can definitely identify her by her tongue and hands.
"Because your cum is so delicious!" she says as she strokes you, eager for her morning cum-ffee. "I can see some of it already!" She licks your tip, swiping up the dripping precum. Yena's hungry for more, and she goes deep on your cock, taking all of it in easily. The loud sloppy noises she makes are the lewdest alarm sounds you've ever heard, and your favorite by far.
"Oh fuck, Yena, I'm gonna cum!" There is no holding back your orgasm, and your hand finds itself in her hair, pushing her down like she was an alarm clock. You thrust up involuntarily, and Yena hums as you hit the roof of her mouth, feeling you surrender in the form of a thick morning load sliding down her throat. Yena's eyeing you as you come down from your peak, making sure you're fully drained before she let's you go with a pop.
"Thanks, I gotta go now."
"Wait, I need something for the morning too no?" You wiggle your eyebrows and Yena laughs.
"I suppose I can spare a few minutes," she sighs theatrically and slides up your body. You expect her to remove her pants and underwear, but she's already naked from the waist down.
"Tch, you were expecting it weren't you?"
"I knew you would repay the favor." She pushes herself onto your face.
Yena's a good girl in the dark.
~~
"Auntie, do you need help with the dishes?"
"Oh no no no you're the guest, you can't be helping with the dishes!"
"I don't mind, besides it makes the dishes go by faster!"
"You see son, why can't you be more like Yena?"
"I live by myself, I do the dishes back home already!"
"I don't care, come help us with the dishes or else!" your mom threatens.
"Fine."
"God it's like I have to beg you to do the dishes, at least Yena's so polite and well-mannered, offering to help!"
Yena's a good girl.
~~
"Please sir."
"What do you want me to do Yena?" you ask the naked idol bent over your lap.
"Spank me."
"What's the magic word?"
"Please spank me." You reward her with a hearty slap across her ass, watching it jiggle and turn red. Yena yelps before thanking you.
"Good." You rub her cheek to soothe her before slipping your hand between her legs—she's dripping. Carelessly you run a finger along her pussy, letting her wetness coat it before wiping it on her. Yena squirms, and you wrap an arm around her midriff, holding her flush against your body, trapping her. Yena takes a deep breath and relaxes, going limp briefly.
"T-Thank you." It made her feel taken care of—she can let her mind go blank, let the pleasure take over, leave everything to you. But you tease her, rubbing her slit as you stroke her head, petting her like you pet a cat, or a duck perhaps. All while she can feel your erection poking her from below. Yena's little gasps and moans get louder and more frequent, breathing heavily over your lap as you continue.
"Please put it in." You push two fingers in, and Yena clenches immediately around them. You push Yena forward on your lap, bending her over one thigh to give you better access to her pussy. Yena's almost folded in half over your leg, blood rushing to her head as she watches her own toes curl uncontrollably due to your fingering. You dig deep, bending and twisting your fingers, as if trying to find the last cookie crumb deep inside Yena's jar. You do find what you're looking for, and Yena's the cookie that crumbles.
"R-Right there!" Beneath you Yena's face is red, both from pleasure, and from the little droplets she sees appearing between her legs. "Wait oppa, I'm going to make a mess—"
"Oppa?"
"I mean, ah! Sir, sorry sir, wait, stop!" You dig a little harder, a little faster, and it becomes a stream of liquid pleasure, leaking down her leg and dripping off Yena's toes.
"Manners Yena."
"Puhlea—" Before she can get the second syllable fully out you press her sensitive clit with your thumb and Yena chokes out a desperate cry, drenching your hand in her slick as she cums hard. Yena claws at your leg, gripping it tightly while she splashes over you. You help Yena right herself, but her legs are weak, and she sits in a puddle of her own juices as she lays her head on your thigh, breathing shallow and labored. You lay a hand on her cheek, and she turns to kiss it, as if soothing herself on you. When she opens her eyes again she looks up at you, before looking to the tent you're pitching in your pants.
"I want you," she whispers, managing to push herself up and pull your shorts off. Her hands go to your boxers, but you stop her.
"Are you forgetting something?"
"Please." Yena says it like an afterthought, removing your boxers and getting in your lap—her slick covered legs are spreading it everywhere on your couch. She tries to sink herself on to you, but you shift your hips, making her miss. "Come on!"
"Say it like you mean it."
"Please, I need you in me." She grabs your cock, her hands wrapping around your length. "I need something thick in me, my pussy needs something to... grip!" She twists her hands, squeezing you tightly. You let her position you at her entrance, and your cock twitches a little as a few more drops of slick land on your shaft.
"Please give me your cock," Yena whispers before kissing you needily.
You slam her down on you.
"Oh fuck!"
Yena's a good girl in the dark.
~~
"Yena do you drink? Are you allowed to?"
"Oh yes of course we are allowed to, I'll have whatever oppa has."
"Okay I'll go get the beer."
"No dear, get the ginseng wine."
"Should I?" Your dad nods emphatically.
"We're all becoming one family here, we can break out the good stuff and celebrate!" You know exactly where this is going as your mum brings the wine.
"Dad no don't do that!" You grab Yena's hand in apology. "Sorry."
"No no, I'm sure Yena doesn't mind! All we're saying, your mum and I, is that we would approve of whatever you two want to do in the future. Get married, have kids, you know, whatever you want!"
"It's okay uncle, I understand, thank you for being so nice to me and making me feel so welcome! We haven't really talked about our future, but it's good to know we have your support!"
"Good, see, that's a sensible young woman! Cheers!"
Yena's a good girl.
The operative word there is "really", because you two have certainly talked about your future together.
In bed.
In the heat of the moment.
While you're deep in Yena.
~~
"How many kids should I put in you, how many do you want!" you grunt as you thrust down into her, feeling her clench around you in response. Yena's legs push uselessly against your arms, your elbows locking her knees down in a mating press.
"As many as you want, fuck! That's so deep!" Her arms have a stranglehold around your neck, keeping you close, her flexibility allowing you to kiss her even as you fuck her in the uncompromising position. Yena's tits jiggle as you pound into her, a lewd visual of just how hard you're thrusting.
"B-Breed me, breed me harder!" It was a kink that Yena let slip once, and since then you've indulged her, joining her in enjoying the thought, relishing the feel of fucking Yena raw each and every time.
"Fuck I'm going to cum, you better keep count!" you shout as you slam down into her with finality, letting loose multiple shots into her. Yena seems to go over the edge with you, clenching around your pulsing cock, lips mumbling incoherently. You collapse on top of her, burying yourself against her neck, kissing her lovingly and cuddling her. It is a little later before either of you are able to speak.
"Five, I counted five shots earlier," she murmurs into your ear, tickling you.
"That many?"
"Mmhmm, I must have drained a lot out of you, hm? Poor oppa." Yena jokes, pinching your cheek. But she pushes you on your back and gets on top of you. The sight of your load leaking out of her is enough to get you to half-mast, and her words get you the rest of the way there.
"Let me do the rest of the work. We have to contribute equally to get me knocked up." She slides her cream-filled warmth over you.
Yena's a good girl in the dark.
~~
"I'm done showering!" Yena announces to you as she joins you in the guest bedroom.
"Great, let's get some rest, it's been a long day." You pull the covers over the two of you and hold Yena close. "Thanks for coming here with me."
"Of course, your parents are so nice!"
"They got a little too excited about meeting you, sorry."
"No no it's okay, I like it, they're fans of me, because of you!"
"I guess." You kiss the top of her head, ready to sleep. Yena is not though, and she slips her hand under your t-shirt.
"Haven't I been a good girl today? Shouldn't you reward me?"
"Yena..." you start.
"I didn't tell them we started dating after multiple hookups together. I didn't tell them we do it raw all the time. I didn't—"
"You really want to have sex here, tonight?" Yena nods and throws a leg around you, and to your surprise she's already very wet.
"Just the thought, you know? Being part of your family, us being a family, starting a family. And I heard ginseng wine is good for you too, get the blood flowing." You know exactly why Yena's so wet now. "I-I even brought towels from the bathroom. I'm going to make such a mess." She says it like sex is a foregone conclusion.
"You're going to have be really quiet, I know how loud you get when you want me to breed you."
"That's what the other towel is for." She scrunches the towel up and bites down on it, looking at you pleadingly.
Yena's a good girl, but Yena's your good girl in the dark.
A/N: Just something quick and dirty, the whole "Good Girls in the Dark" song from her just gave me the idea lol. Right before her next comeback heh, maybe there's another "dirty" title there hopefully, or I'll just make it dirty as usual. Thanks for reading!
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deukaeloveclub ¡ 2 years ago
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When you play rage cage and it's the carbonation of the seltzer rather than the alcohol that hits you hard 😭
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bisexualamy ¡ 2 years ago
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imagine buying chocolate eggs without ever considering the crucifixion of jesus christ, or kosher becoming a fad diet, the pilgrimage to Mecca becoming a fun drunk weekend getaway, the concept of reincarnation relegated to fun social media quizzes
i cannot even begin to describe how insulting it is to portray this as better than preserving cultural and religious heritage. truly tell me you know nothing about these traditions without telling me. if you're going to speak on erasing centuries of culture and religious traditions with such confidence, at least know what the fuck you're talking about
Once again begging anti-theists to realize that to get to a world without religion you’d have to commit cultural genocide. So maybe you shouldn’t push for that
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reidmarieprentiss ¡ 5 months ago
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Dare Ya
Summary: Spencer and Penelope are roommates, you get a dare during girls night that changes your relationship with Spencer.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x BAU fem!reader
Category: fluff
Warnings/Includes: alcohol consumption, mild crime description, sneaking into beds
Word count: 3.6k
a/n: this is so silly & cute ,, i saw someone say they love penelope and spencer being best friends and i can't disagree hehe
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After surviving a terrifying attack outside her apartment, Penelope Garcia can’t shake the feeling of vulnerability that now shadows her every step. Seeking solace, she reluctantly accepts Spencer Reid's offer to move in with him, hoping his quiet, protective presence will help her regain a sense of safety. 
—
Penelope was sprawled out on the couch, her colorful blanket draped over her as she scrolled through the latest memes on her tablet. Spencer walked in, holding two mugs of steaming tea, carefully balancing them as he made his way to the coffee table.
"Okay, Penelope, I’ve got your chamomile, extra honey, just the way you like it," Spencer announced with a proud smile, handing her the mug.
Penelope’s eyes lit up as she accepted the tea. "Spencer, you’re an absolute gem! What would I do without you?"
Spencer sat down beside her, taking a sip of his own tea before replying, "Probably starve, considering your idea of dinner is three packets of Pop Rocks and a diet soda."
Penelope gasped dramatically, clutching her heart. "I’ll have you know that’s gourmet snacking in some cultures!"
He laughed, shaking his head. "Well, in this apartment, it’s all about balanced meals and—"
"—and daily doses of nerdy lectures from my favorite genius!" Penelope finished his sentence, her grin widening.
"Exactly," Spencer agreed with a chuckle. "Besides, you’re the only person who appreciates my random facts at 2 AM."
Penelope nudged him playfully with her elbow. "Of course! And who else is going to let me blast show tunes at full volume while I reorganize your books by color?"
Spencer’s eyes widened in mock horror. "Wait, you wouldn’t dare…"
Penelope leaned closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Oh, sweetie, it’s already done."
He stared at her for a moment, then sighed dramatically, leaning back against the couch. "You’re lucky you’re cute."
"And you’re lucky I love you," Penelope shot back, lifting her mug in a toast.
Spencer clinked his mug against hers. "Best roommates ever."
"Forever and always," Penelope agreed, smiling warmly at him.
—
“Reid, don’t forget I’m having the girls over tonight,” Penelope reminded him as she flitted around the kitchen, her excitement palpable.
“Girls' night, I know,” Spencer replied with a small smile, glancing over at the calendar on the wall where Penelope had circled the date in bright pink marker. “You wrote it on the calendar.”
Penelope paused, turning to face him with a hopeful look. “Are you going to join us this time? It’s going to be fun! We’re talking snacks, gossip, and maybe even some scandalous games…”
Spencer chuckled, already making his way toward his room with a book tucked under his arm. “I’ll pass, thank you,” he said, his voice warm with amusement. 
Penelope pouted playfully, but she couldn’t hide her grin. “One day, Dr. Reid, you’ll see the light and join us!”
“Maybe,” Spencer called back with a laugh, already imagining the lively scene that would soon fill the apartment. For now, though, he was content to let the girls enjoy their night.
Penelope Garcia loves hosting her infamous girls' nights with the BAU ladies, filling her and Reid's apartment with laughter, drinks, and the latest gossip. Spencer, ever the accommodating roommate, doesn’t mind the occasional takeover—he’s more than happy to retreat to his books. What he didn’t anticipate, though, is you always showing up in your cozy pajamas, looking irresistibly adorable and sending his heart into a tailspin. As the nights unfold with playful games and shared secrets, Spencer finds himself leaving his room more and more often, struggling to keep his cool amidst the lively chaos.
—
The apartment is buzzing with energy as you, Emily, JJ, and Penelope sit in a cozy circle on the living room floor, surrounded by empty wine bottles, snack wrappers, and the remnants of your laughter-filled evening. The air is thick with friendship, and after a few rounds of lighthearted gossip, the group decides to spice things up with a classic game of truth or dare.
Penelope leans forward with a mischievous glint in her eye. “Okay, truth or dare?” she asks, her voice full of playful challenge.
Feeling the warmth of the wine and the comfort of your friends, you giggle. “Dare, obviously,” you say confidently, knowing full well that Penelope won’t go easy on you.
The girls exchange conspiratorial glances, their eyes practically twinkling with mischief. Emily is the first to speak up, grinning as she leans closer. “We dare you to… climb into Spencer’s bed while he’s sleeping.”
Your eyes widen in surprise, your cheeks flushing at the thought. “Wait, what?!” you whisper, a mixture of shock and excitement bubbling up inside you. The mere idea of being that close to him, even in such a silly, innocent context, makes your heart race.
JJ nods enthusiastically, her smile widening. “Come on! You’ve been crushing on him forever. It’s the perfect opportunity to get a little closer,” she teases, nudging your shoulder playfully.
Penelope claps her hands together, her excitement barely contained. “Think of it as a harmless prank! He’ll never know, and it’ll be our little secret,” she adds with a wink.
You bite your lip, your mind racing. The thought of sneaking into Spencer’s room, tiptoeing over to his bed, and slipping under the covers while he sleeps soundly is both terrifying and thrilling. But the encouraging looks from your friends, coupled with the wine-induced confidence, push you to make a decision.
“Okay, okay, I’ll do it,” you finally agree, your voice a little shaky but determined. The girls let out a collective squeal of delight, stifling their laughter as they quickly urge you toward Spencer’s bedroom.
You take a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves as you carefully open the door to his room, the soft creak of the hinges sounding far too loud in the quiet of the night. Spencer is fast asleep, his face peaceful in the dim light filtering through the curtains. His glasses are on the nightstand, and a book lies open beside him, his fingers still loosely resting on the pages.
With your heart pounding in your chest, you slowly approach the bed, your steps light and cautious. You glance back at the doorway, where the girls are peeking in, holding their breaths in anticipation. Gathering every ounce of courage, you carefully lift the blanket and slide into the bed beside Spencer, your movements as gentle as possible.
As you carefully slide under the covers beside Spencer, you’re acutely aware of every sound, every movement, your heart hammering in your chest. You had been fully prepared to stay for only a few seconds before making your escape, but the moment you settle in, something unexpected happens—Spencer, in his sleep, rolls over and instinctively drapes an arm around you.
You freeze, eyes wide in shock, as you feel his warmth envelop you. His face nuzzles into your shoulder, his breath soft and steady against your neck. Your initial reaction is to panic, to jump out of the bed before things get any more complicated, but the sensation of his embrace is so comforting, so natural, that you can’t bring yourself to move.
Instead, you find yourself relaxing into him, letting out a breath. Spencer’s grip tightens slightly as if seeking out your warmth in his sleep, and your heart melts at the sweet, innocent way he snuggles closer.
From the doorway, the girls are watching with wide eyes, trying desperately to suppress their giggles. Penelope claps a hand over her mouth, stifling a squeal of excitement, while Emily and JJ exchange looks of pure amusement, both of them barely containing their laughter.
You turn your head slightly, giving them a pleading look to stay quiet, but you can’t help the small smile that tugs at your lips. There’s something about the way Spencer holds you, even in his unconscious state, that makes you feel safe, cherished, and you can’t bring yourself to disrupt the moment.
As the minutes tick by, the warmth of Spencer’s embrace and the steady rhythm of his breathing begin to lull you into a state of calm. You know you should slip out, return to the girls, and let them finish their game, but instead, you find yourself growing drowsy, the fatigue of the night catching up with you.
Before you know it, your eyelids grow heavy, and you drift off to sleep, nestled comfortably in Spencer’s arms.
Back in the living room, the girls exchange glances, their excitement bubbling over. Penelope, always the ringleader, whispers with a grin, "Looks like she’s spending the night there. Mission accomplished, ladies."
Emily chuckles softly, shaking her head in disbelief. "She’s really going for it, huh?"
JJ giggles, still trying to keep her voice low. "I think we just made Spencer’s dreams come true—literally!"
The girls continue to snicker and whisper amongst themselves, marveling at how perfectly the dare has played out. They decide to let you enjoy your impromptu cuddle session, knowing that this is one girls’ night that will go down in history.
—
The morning light filtered softly through the curtains, gently stirring you awake. For a moment, you were wrapped in the cozy haze of sleep, feeling an unfamiliar warmth around you. As your eyes blinked open, reality came rushing back, and your heart dropped into your stomach—Spencer was still there, his arm draped across you, his face just inches from yours.
Panic set in as you realized exactly where you were and what had happened last night. Before you could gather your thoughts, Spencer stirred beside you, his brow furrowing in confusion as he slowly woke up. His eyes fluttered open, and the moment he saw you lying there, his expression shifted from sleepy contentment to utter shock.
“Wha—what’s going on?!” Spencer exclaimed, his voice a mix of confusion and panic as he scrambled back, pulling the blanket up as if it could somehow explain the situation.
You bolted upright, your cheeks burning with embarrassment. “Spencer, I—I can explain!” you stammered, trying desperately to find the right words. But the sight of his wide, bewildered eyes only made your heart race faster.
“Why were you…? How did you…?” Spencer was clearly struggling to make sense of it all, his mind racing as he tried to connect the dots.
You cringed, feeling mortified beyond belief. “It was just… it was a dare,” you admitted, the words tumbling out in a rush. “Penelope, Emily, and JJ—they dared me to sneak into your bed while you were sleeping. I swear, it was just a silly prank. I didn’t mean to—” You broke off, feeling the heat of humiliation crawl up your neck.
Spencer’s eyes widened even more, if that were possible. “A dare? You climbed into my bed because of a dare?” He sounded incredulous, his voice cracking slightly.
You nodded, biting your lip and wishing the ground would just swallow you whole. “I’m so sorry, Spencer. I didn’t think—I didn’t realize you’d… snuggle up to me like that.” Your voice trailed off, the words sounding as ridiculous out loud as they did in your head.
Spencer’s face turned a shade of red you didn’t think was possible, his mind clearly reeling as he processed what you had just told him. “I—I didn’t know. I must have been dreaming or something. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to… I didn’t know you were there!” He was stumbling over his words, just as flustered as you were.
The awkwardness in the room was suffocating, and you could feel your heart pounding in your ears. The last thing you wanted was for Spencer to think you were some kind of creep. Your mouth opened and closed a few times, but no coherent words formed. The embarrassment was too overwhelming.
“I should go,” you finally managed to squeak out, your voice barely above a whisper. Without waiting for a response, you scrambled out of the bed, nearly tripping over your own feet in your haste. You bolted for the door, your face burning with shame.
Spencer started to say something, but you didn’t stop to listen. You couldn’t—every fiber of your being was screaming at you to get out of there as fast as possible. You could hear the girls' giggles in the living room as you rushed past them, but you didn’t stop. You couldn’t bear to face them, not after what had just happened.
The moment you were out of the apartment, you leaned against the wall, trying to catch your breath, your heart still pounding. You had never been so embarrassed in your life. The whole thing had backfired spectacularly, and now you had no idea how you were ever going to face Spencer again.
Inside the apartment, Spencer was left sitting on the bed, staring at the door where you had just fled. His mind was still trying to process everything that had just happened, his cheeks still burning. He had never been so confused, or so flustered, in his entire life.
—
After the chaotic morning had settled down and the girls had finally left, the apartment grew quiet. Spencer was still in a bit of a daze from the unexpected events that had unfolded earlier. He moved around the kitchen mechanically, setting up breakfast while his thoughts churned. 
“So, boy wonder,” Penelope began, sliding into a chair at the kitchen table as Spencer placed a plate of scrambled eggs and toast in front of her. “Care to share what’s going on in that big brain of yours?”
Spencer sighed, sitting down across from her with his own plate, though he wasn’t sure he had much of an appetite. “I’m just… confused, I guess,” he admitted, poking at his eggs with his fork. “About everything that happened this morning.”
Penelope nodded, a knowing smile playing on her lips. “Yeah, it was definitely one for the books,” she agreed. “But I think there’s more to it than just a silly dare, isn’t there?”
Spencer hesitated, his brow furrowing as he tried to find the right words. “I don’t know. It’s just—when I woke up and saw her there, I was… shocked, obviously. But then, after she explained, I just couldn’t stop thinking about how it felt to have her there, so close. And now, I feel like I completely scared her off.”
Penelope’s eyes softened as she looked at him. “Spencer, I think you’re missing the bigger picture here,” she said gently. “Do you like her?”
Spencer looked up at Penelope, a bit startled by the direct question. His cheeks flushed slightly as he considered it. “I mean, yeah, I do,” he admitted, his voice quiet. “She’s smart, funny, and… she makes me feel things I haven’t felt in a long time. But I never thought she’d be interested in me like that.”
Penelope’s smile widened, her heart warming at the sight of her friend finally acknowledging his feelings. “Well, that’s where you’re wrong, Doctor,” she said with a playful wink. “The reason we dared her to climb into your bed wasn’t just for fun. It was because we’ve all noticed how she looks at you, how she gets all flustered when you’re around. She’s been crushing on you hard, Spencer. We thought a little nudge might help her break the ice.”
Spencer blinked, the revelation sinking in. “She… she likes me?” he asked, surprise and hope flickering in his eyes.
Penelope nodded enthusiastically. “Oh, she’s got it bad for you,” she confirmed. “But she’s also shy and probably feels like she’s not on your level. That’s why she freaked out this morning—she’s likely mortified because she thinks she messed everything up.”
Spencer leaned back in his chair, processing Penelope’s words. It was almost too much to take in at once, but the more he thought about it, the more everything made sense. The way you always seemed a little nervous around him, the way you’d light up when he shared random facts or when you’d bump into each other in the hallway. And now, the fact that you’d been daring enough to go along with something as bold as sneaking into his bed—it all pointed to one thing: you had feelings for him, just as he had for you.
“I can’t believe I didn’t see it,” Spencer said softly, a small smile beginning to form on his lips. “But now that I know… what do I do?”
Penelope reached across the table, placing a hand on his arm. “You talk to her, Spencer. You let her know how you feel, that you’re not upset about what happened. She’s probably freaking out right now, thinking she ruined everything. But you can turn this around, make it something good.”
Spencer nodded, feeling a sense of determination growing within him. “You’re right,” he said, his voice gaining confidence. “I need to talk to her. I don’t want her to think I’m upset or that she did something wrong.”
Penelope beamed at him, giving his arm a supportive squeeze. “That’s the spirit! You’ve got this, Spencer. Just be your sweet, nerdy self, and everything will fall into place.”
—
Monday morning rolled around, and the usual bustle of the BAU was in full swing. The team was busy reviewing files, catching up on paperwork, and getting ready for whatever case might come their way. But Spencer Reid had something else on his mind—something far more nerve-wracking than profiling criminals.
With a bouquet of flowers in one hand and a small, carefully wrapped box from your favorite bakery in the other, Spencer made his way to your desk. His heart pounded in his chest, a mix of anticipation and anxiety as he approached. He had rehearsed what he wanted to say over and over, but now that the moment was here, his nerves threatened to get the better of him.
You were focused on your work, completely unaware of the flurry of emotions heading your way. But when you sensed someone standing in front of your desk, you looked up, and your breath caught in your throat.
Spencer stood there, looking slightly nervous but determined, holding out the bouquet of flowers—a beautiful blend of your favorite blooms, carefully chosen with Penelope’s help. Your eyes widened in surprise, your heart skipping a beat.
“Hi,” Spencer said softly, his voice a little shaky but warm. “I, um… I got these for you.”
You stared at the flowers, then at Spencer, your mind struggling to catch up with what was happening. “Spencer… what’s all this?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.
He took a deep breath, gathering his courage. “I wanted to apologize for how things went on Saturday. I know it was a little… unconventional, but after thinking about it, I realized I shouldn’t have let you leave feeling so embarrassed.”
Your heart pounded in your chest, both touched and confused. “You don’t have to apologize, Spencer. I was the one who—”
He gently cut you off, holding up the box from the bakery. “And I also got you this. I know it’s your favorite,” he added, offering the box with a small, hopeful smile.
You hesitated for a moment before accepting the box, your fingers brushing against his as you did. The gesture made your heart flutter. “Thank you,” you said softly, feeling a mixture of emotions welling up inside you.
Spencer shifted slightly, looking down at the flowers before meeting your eyes again. “I’ve been thinking a lot about what Penelope said, about how sometimes we all need a little push to see what’s right in front of us.” His gaze was earnest, his voice steady as he continued. “And I’ve realized that I don’t want to miss out on what could be something really great.”
Your breath caught as his words sank in, your heart beating faster as hope began to bloom within you.
“So,” Spencer continued, a small but sincere smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I was wondering if you’d like to go out with me sometime. Maybe we can start over, without the dares, and just… see where things go?”
You felt your cheeks warm as you looked into his eyes, seeing the vulnerability and sincerity there. The embarrassment from the weekend melted away, replaced by a growing sense of excitement. You glanced at the flowers and the pastry, your favorite treats carefully chosen just for you, and felt a smile spread across your face.
“I’d love that, Spencer,” you replied, your voice filled with warmth.
Spencer’s smile widened, relief and happiness evident on his face. “Really?”
“Really,” you assured him, your heart fluttering with anticipation. “And thank you for the flowers—and the pastry. You really didn’t have to.”
“I wanted to,” Spencer said softly. “You’re worth it.”
Your smile grew even brighter, and you couldn’t help the way your heart swelled at his words. “Well, in that case, I guess I’m going to have to say yes.”
Spencer’s face lit up with joy and relief, and he let out a breath he was holding. “Great,” he said, his voice full of quiet excitement. “How about dinner tonight?”
“That sounds perfect,” you replied, feeling like the luckiest person in the world.
As Spencer walked away to return to his desk, a spring in his step, you couldn’t help but glance down at the flowers and the pastry. The weekend’s awkwardness seemed like a distant memory now, replaced by the sweet possibility of something new and delicious.
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stardust-swan ¡ 7 months ago
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Secrets to the Arabian Princess Scent 💐🧴🪷
So with Arab perfumes becoming popular in the West due to their strong projection and beautiful smell, and the Arab world becoming known for our knowledge on how to smell good af, I (a half Moroccan) am going to reveal some other ways we ensure we smell amazing to the girlies on Tumblr who are interested in Arab perfumes or just in generally smelling amazing 😍 Most tips are Moroccan but many apply to the Arab world in general (under the cut because this turned into a long post) ✨💞💐
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1) Good Eating Habits: When my mother moved here to Europe, she was immediately struck by how the people seemed to smell like "pig." And that's no coincidence. You are what you eat, so coming from a country where nobody eats pig to one where everyone eats it, of course you're going to be struck by people smelling like it from the inside out. Not just that, but in the Arab world, it's also way less common for people to eat takeout and drink alcohol, whereas in many parts of the West, these things are a normal part of many people's diets and affects their natural scent. A lot of Arabs have also talked about how Westerners smell like "milk," and this is because Westerners tend to consume more dairy products than people in the East do. It's also common for Arabs to eat fruit as dessert instead of having cakes or cookies all the time (although speaking of cookies and cakes, the scents of rosewater, orange blossom water, almonds, honey, vanilla, oranges and lemons commonly used in Arab baking fill up the house with a wonderful smell while they're baking). Teas made from various herbal infusions are popular throughout the Arab world. Spearmint, peppermint, sage, cardamom, cinnamon, hibiscus, chamomile, anise, and thyme are commonly used to flavor tea in MENA. Dried lime tea is drunk in the Arabian Peninsula. Coffee flavoured with cardamom is also common. I especially like Turkish coffee. Spices like cinnamon, cardamom, and cloves are commonly used in cooking, and the scent of them can cling to your clothes and hair. Herbs like mint and parsley, which have natural deodorising properties, are often used in meals.
I'm not saying that you need to cut any foods out in order to smell good, but you should consider reducing the amounts of unhealthy foods and red meats you eat, and make sure to drink plenty of water and eat veggies and fruit daily.
2) Keeping a Clean House: Here in Ireland, a lot of people don't clean their houses every day. I know multiple people that only clean their floor once a week, and have a couple of neighbours who don't do much cleaning themselves and just have a housekeeper visit to clean once a week. But in Morocco, people clean daily. The home is also deep cleaned once a week, we even wash the walls. We don't wear shoes inside, and not just that, but we also have different slippers specifically for wearing inside the bathroom. Living in a clean space is important for smelling good, because no matter what you do, you'll always end up smelling like wherever you live due to spending so much time there. The scent will cling to your clothes and hair. Which means if your house smells dirty, you will also smell dirty.
As well as making sure the house is clean, Arabs also make it smell pretty with extras. For example, in Morocco it's common to burn incense or bakhour (perfumed wood chips), and the scent permeates your clothes. People also keep pieces of musk in their wardrobes (wrapped in a handkerchief). It come in scents like orange blossom, jasmine, amber, sandalwood, chamomile and lavender. An unused bar of soap or a sachet of potpourri in your wardrobe will do the same job though if you can't or don't want to buy musk. The musk can also be used as a scented wax melt, a home scent (you just leave it in a bowl), a body perfume (rub it on your skin), a hair perfume (rub on your palms and run through the hair), or to scent bathwater. Solid perfume made from natural ingredients has the same effect. I like Lush Rose Jam solid perfume, as it smells like sweet roses and Turkish delight, and a little goes a long way.
Specific to Marrakech, you can buy jasmine balls which you just leave around the house (if you're not in Marrakech, you can just leave potpourri or dried flowers and herbs in sachets on your desk, bedside table, etc). The Marrakech herbal shops also sell sandalwood bark which you burn. Oud and amber are also burned. Herbs like lavender are sprinkled under carpets and rugs so the scent rises as they're stepped on. Room sprays from brands like Nabeel are used, which come in a range of lovely scents (like the warm vanilla and oud Kanz or the rich floral Raunaq).
3) Personal Hygiene: In the Arab world, people shower daily. In Morocco, we also go to the hammam (public bath) once a week, and we sit in the sauna room, and then rub our bodies with sabon beldi (black soap), a natural soap made from olive oil and black olives, leaving it on for a few minutes before rinsing it off. Then we scrub our skin with a kessa glove after it's marinated. Exfoliating dead skin regularly makes perfume cling to you better (if you order Korean bath towels from Amazon, they're very similar to Moroccan kessa gloves and you use them in a similar way). Then after washing our hair, we use a ghassoul clay mask (some people also rub henna into their skin). After washing the clay off, many people rub rosewater or argan oil into their skin before heading to the relaxation area to enjoy refreshments. As well as helping us smell good, it also makes our skin incomparably soft. When my parents were newlyweds, my father remarked on how he'd never felt a woman with such soft skin in his life before. My mother attributes it to regularly using the hammams before moving here.
Obviously not everyone has access to a hammam, but you can create a similar experience at home. Just sit in a steamy hot shower for 10-15 minutes, wash your skin with a natural soap and leave it on for a few minutes before rinsing off and exfoliating with a glove. Then tone with rosewater and apply oil to your body.
Dukhan treatments (smoke baths) are practiced in Sudan. Married women and brides anoint themselves with oil, before sitting over a chair with a hole in the centre. Under the seat, there is a pit, in which acacia wood, frankincense, or other aromatic woods and resins are burned in a clay vessel.
As well as showering daily (and using the hammam regularly if you're Maghrebi), many people in the Arab world also perform wudu (ritual cleansing) five times a day before praying.
Women commonly apply Musk Al Tahara (white musk), an attar that smells like vanilla, flowers and soft musk on the external parts of their vulva after periods.
Alum was commonly used as a natural deodorant in the Arab world in the past, and some still use it today.
Bidets are also common in the Arab world. In the Anglosphere they're uncommon, but it's easy to get a portable bidet (a small squeezable bottle with a nozzle) online.
We also wash our hands before meals, with a pitcher of water which is passed around the room. In Turkey, they use kolonya, made from fig blossoms, jasmine, rose, or citrus to disinfect their hands. In Morocco, it's common for women to scent their hands with rosewater or orange blossom water after meals.
4) Fragrances, Lotions and Potions: In the Arab world, perfumes are incredible. They're oil-based, so they have excellent projection and longevity. The olfactory notes commonly used in them are beautiful too: delicate rosewater and orange blossom water, exotic oud, sweet amber, vibrant roses and jasmine. In Morocco, gardenia scents are popular, even among men.
Emirati perfumes are the most well known in the West and are super good. Some personal favourites of mine include Oud Mood by Lattafa (Caramel, rose, saffron, and oud), Fatima Pink by Zimaya (Sweet rose that smells like a bit like Turkish delight. it's a dupe of the French Parfums De Marly Delina, however, the actual Delina smells very similar to generic rose oil perfumes you can get in the Arab world to begin with so Zimaya was basically able to dupe it to a T. Their version lasts really long too), Ameerat Al Arab by Lattafa (jasmine, a hint of oud, slightly citrusy. Also the name means "Arabian Princess" in English), Fakhar Rose by Lattafa (sweet, fruity, and very floral) and Yara by Lattafa (floral, amber, vanilla and strawberry). I buy my perfumes from Dubai Perfume Shop in Dublin, but they can be easily found online. Some well-known Arab perfume houses include Lattafa, Al Rehab, Zimaya, Al Qurashi, Amouage, Afnan, Ajmal, Asdaaf, Al Haramain, Armaf, Kayali, Maison Alhambra, and Swiss Arabian, but there are hundreds more.
As well as sprayable perfume, perfume oil is also used. It usually comes in rollerballs or small containers, is inexpensive, and lasts for ages. Like spray perfume, it comes in a huge variety of scents. You can also put it in diffusers or add some to cotton balls and leave in your wardrobe to scent clothes and linens.
Arabs know when to wear perfumes. For example, a rich, sweet, strong oud and vanilla scent will be beautiful in colder weather. But in warm weather, it will become cloying and sickly. Musk, amber and saffron are popular in winter, while rose, orange blossom and jasmine are popular in summer.
In the Arab world, many stalls in the Medina sell gorgeous oils, fragrances and soaps that are inexpensive. For example, the musk I mentioned above. As well as making your home smell incredible, you can also rub it on your body and you'll smell good for days.
Rosewater is commonly used as a toner and to remove makeup. In the town of Skoura, where my great grandparents were from, men even use it to shave with! Orange blossom water is also used in Arab beauty routines in a similar way to rosewater. You can apply either to a bath for extra luxury.
Argan oil is commonly used in Morocco on both skin and hair, as well as the less well-known but just as good prickly pear oil (which is very high in vitamin E). Pure argan oil actually smells mild and not fragrant (similar to olive oil), but for beauty, things like rose oil and menthol are commonly added, so it smells pretty good. Throughout the Middle East and North Africa, jasmine hair oil, castor oil and sweet almond oil (I like putting it in my baths and on my body) are easy to find. Usually Middle Eastern and South Asian shops in the West sell them too.
Honey and almond masks have been used since ancient times, and to this day are still popular. You can buy them basically anywhere. Homemade face masks made from honey and yoghurt or crushed figs and yoghurt are also used.
Aloe Vera is used to treat dry skin, acne, and sunburns. It has a cool and refreshing scent, perfect for the hot climate in many parts of the Arabian world. I like applying it after shaving as it's soothing, natural, and absorbs easily.
Frankincense, a resin used in the Middle East and North Africa for thousands of years, was traditionally used as a natural perfume. It's commonly used in incense. Frankincense oil is also good for the skin.
There are many beautiful scented soaps available in the Arab world. If you go to Turkish or Arab supermarkets, a lot of them will have a section where they sell hygiene products, including soaps with ingredients like argan, rose and oud, and olive oil. I've even found Syrian Aleppo soap before. You can just buy soaps from regular stores in scents like rose, jasmine, honey and almond, orange blossom and sandalwood for achieving that exotic scent though.
As well as using various oils, perfumes, and fragrant beauty treatments, Arab women also know how to layer these different scents to add dimension to them and avoid clashing. For example, a rose perfume over a vanilla lotion will always smell good. Other combinations that are good include almond and vanilla, rose and oud, rose and jasmine, lavender and lemon, rose and orange blossom, and orange blossom and vanilla. But there are many different combinations you can use to achieve a delicious scent that's unique to you.
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I hope this was helpful, stay pretty ✨
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talaok ¡ 1 year ago
Text
Just this once
Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!babysitter!reader
Summary: Everyone hates you in town, everyone except for Mr. Miller, who was kind enough to hire you as his daughter's babysitter.
Warnings: mentally and verbally abusive father, angst, unreciprocated love, no happy ending. Smut| oral sex (m receiving), unprotected p in v sex, creampie
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Everyone hated you in this town.
Kids at school, moms, dads, even grandparents sometimes.
People crossed the street when they saw you, they waited until you turned around to whisper and scorn to the person beside them.
Everywhere you went, followed dirty looks and rude remarks.
In the hallways at school, at the drug store, pharmacy, park, you name it.
Everywhere, everyone seemed to despise old Carl's daughter just for being born, or maybe, maybe also because of the rumors that spread about her.
Like the one where you dealt drugs, which was not not the truth... but you never dealt meth.
Or the one where you'd fucked half the guys in town,
And least but not last, the one where you were the reason you poor pops had turned to alcohol.
Except they didn't know anything. they didn't know that your "poor pops" had begun his diet of a bottle of whiskey a day long before you were born, that he drove your mom mad to the point where she had fled without so much as a goodbye, leaving behind a few clothes and a stupid scrap of paper where she had written a fucking lie.
I love you
If she had actually loved you, she wouldn't have left.
And they didn't know that all the anger your father had, had turned to you, they didn't know how scary it was, to be afraid of your own father, to be alone at the age of thirteen, to have to take care of yourself, to have to grow up faster than you should.
They all hated you, and you didn't care, you swore you didn't care, because they didn't know, they didn't know shit.
But Mr. Miller was different.
He was the only person, together with his daughter, who had ever shown you kindness, the real kind.
He had seen you sobbing as you ran from your house after your dad had another one of his "episodes".
And god, you were so confused when he stopped you, when he put a hand on your shoulder and asked if everything was alright.
And you didn't tell him then, you didn't tell him everything that was going on and that your dad was an asshole and that your life was hell, you couldn't, there was always this everlasting shame fizzing underneath your skin whenever you felt the need to share. But he hadn't cared, he hadn't cared that you had told him nothing, he hadn't cared that all you did was say sorry and I need to go, because with just a glance it felt like he had seen right through you.
So then he'd told you where he lived, and even if that time he couldn't convince you to come in, it was you who showed up at his doorsteps two nights after, asking for a place to sleep which he offered without so much as a question.
And it was only a week later when you told him everything.
He had sat and listened as you cried and cried, he had stroked your hair and given you tissues, until finally, he offered you a job.
Babysitting his kid.
And you were scared at first, you weren't really equipped for the job, but the moment you met Sarah you realized just how easy it was gonna be.
taking care of her was fun, and it gave you an excuse to be away from your own home, sometimes even at night when the mere thought of seeing your father made you want to puke.
And Mr. Miller was always nice, he made breakfast, overpaid you like crazy, and he listened, he was always there to listen.
"dad, what are you talking about?" 
Mr. Miller's backyard was always perfectly mowed, and the treehouse he'd built his daughter stood high on the oak in the middle of it.
"I said-" even if you couldn't see him, you swore he was taking another gulp straight from the bottle " Where the fuck are you?" 
"I'm working dad, I told you" you said, trying to remain as calm as possible.
"You working?" he laughed "That's funny" he said, as his laugh turned into a disgusting cough "Tell me where you really are." his voice was slurry, but the anger in it still made you shiver "You at one of your boyfriends' houses?"
"No Dad, I'm at Mr. Miller's house" you sighed, it was sad really, how used you were to this by now.
"Mr. Miller huh?" a hiccup sounded through the phone "You fucking him too? You started going for older guys? Is that it? I bet that's it you little slut" he hissed "Your mother would be so disappointed... to see her only daughter grow up to be such a fucking whore"
There's a difference, when it's strangers calling you names, and when it's your own father.
You'd always wished his words didn't affect you, but somehow, they always found a way to hurt.
No matter how tough you made yourself to be, when it was him, you felt like a kid all over again.
"fuck you" you muttered, as tears pricked your eyes 
"Is that how you talk to your father you little bitch? Just wait till you come home, I'll see what you'll have to say then-"
And there were so many things you wanted to tell him, to scream at him, to drill into his non-existing brain, but all you did was press the red button and hung up.
And it took about a second before the tears started flowing like rivers.
You ran back inside the house, forgetting all about closing the glass door as you curled into a ball on the couch, trying to cry as silently as you could, so that Sarah wouldn't wake up.
You hated him. You hated everything, you just wanted to run away and start a new life somewhere else, Canada, Austria, even the fucking north pole sounded better than this.
You were just so tired, so exhausted. Every time you talked to your father all the energy you had, or thought you had left, got drained from your body, and for hours, you remained lifeless,
The only exception was when-
The front door opened, and those purposely quiet footsteps that you would have recognized anywhere, followed soon after.
Him, the only exception was when he was there to comfort you.
You sat up, quickly wiping your tears to try and look somewhat presentable.
"hey," he whispered, entering the living room "Sarah's asleep?"
"mh-mh, yes" you nodded
"I'm sorry I came home this late, it's just that the guys wanted to go out after work and I always tell them no..." he trailed off, as he sat next to you and got rid of his overused boots.
"I-It's not a problem, Mr. Miller"
He shook his head, smiling in that charming way of his as he sat his shoes next to the coffee table and turned to look at you.
"How many times have I told you that you can just call me J-"
But his words died in his throat the moment he caught a glimpse of your red, puffy eyes, (that he'd come to know too well) and of that look on your face.
"What happened?"
They were such simple words, but they hit like tnt too close to a dam, breaking the barrier and causing all the water to run out.
His arms were around you the moment the first tear fell.
"shh" he cooed, stroking your back as you sobbed into his chest "It's alright, everythin's alright, sweetheart"
You wrapped your arms around his broad torso, feeling all his muscles underneath the fabric as you drowned in his scent. He always smelt so manly and so... good.
"I-I'm sorry it's just" A sob climbed up your throat "He-he called and I-I" You never finished the sentence as other tears started flowing from your eyes.
"I'm sorry honey" he cooed, placing his cheek on top of your head"it's ok" he murmured "It's all gonna be fine, I promise"
"w-when?" you cried, finally looking up at him "I'm so tired of this Mr. Miller..."
"soon" he promised "You're a smart girl, you'll get far in life sweetheart, I just know it"
you breathed heavily into his chest for a few minutes, listening to his heart beat as you calmed your own.
"t-thank you" you sniffled
"of course, darlin'"
And as you glanced at him, at his soft beard, at his kind eyes, your brain short-circuited and your mouth got a mind of its own, and before you realized it, your lips were on his.
And god he felt so good
"y/n-" he spoke as you tried to deepen the kiss "What are you doing?"
"I just-" you stuttered, not able to tear your glaze off his soft lips "please" you murmured, not knowing what else to say as you leaned up to kiss him again,
"sweetheart this ain't right I-"
"please Mr. Miller" you begged, placing your hand on his shoulder and pecs, as you left a quick kiss on his lips again "please just this once"
"y/n..." he tried to speak but was interrupted by your mouth finding his neck.
"please" you repeated for the thousandth time, your breath fanning over his neck "just this one time" 
"darlin'... I don't know if this is a good idea"
"it is" you quickly corrected him, your kisses lowering down his body, until all you could do was shuffle off the couch to get between his parted legs "it's a really good idea"
You saw him swallow thickly at the sight before him
"no sweetheart, you don't gotta do that"
"I want to" you reassured him, hurriedly undoing his belt and zipper until his black boxers were all that obstructed your view.
You palmed his manhood through the fabric, feeling it harden underneath your palm, before you gently took it out, looking up at him for approval as you wrapped one hand around it and let your lips follow suit.
A loud shuddering breath fled his mouth as you fitted more and more of him into your mouth, and you took it as an incentive to get lower, fully choking on his cock.
"f-fuck" he groaned
You started bobbing your head up and down, your eyes never leaving the sight of him breathing heavily before you.
You were doing good, but you wanted to do amazing for Mr. Miller, so you gingerly took his cock out of your mouth to start a slow trail of kisses and kitty lips down the whole length of him, until you reached his balls, and without a second thought, reserved them of the same treatment, before starting to suck on those too.
"fuck. me." he breathed, throwing his head back as he shut his eyes.
You leaned away for a moment, still pumping him with your hand "Does it feel good?" you asked
"fuck-yeah sweetheart" he gulped, looking down at you "it feels real fucking good- you're-fuck-you're amazing"
The biggest smile ever spread on your face at that, and with a renewed vigor, you got back to sucking his balls even better.
series of profanities continued coming out of his mouth as you got back to his dick, letting your tongue run on his tip for a few moments before getting back to filling your mouth with it.
You watched his hands curl by his sides, and without thinking, you let one of your own travel to his, softly placing your palm over it in a makeshift hold, which wasn't really a hold because he didn't turn his hand to do it properly.
But it didn't matter now, he was enjoying this, something you were doing for him, something you had dreamed of doing to him times and times again, and that's all you cared about.
You bobbed your head for a few more moments before you leaned away and quickly got up to get rid of your pants.
He watched you, too fucked out and torn with guilt and confusion to understand anything anymore, step out of your panties, place your hands on his shoulders, and straddle him.
you reached down for his dick, and without too much of a premise, sank down on it.
"oh god" you moaned, stopping a moment to take a deep breath at the feeling, as a low groan rumbled in his chest.
"you feel so good" you murmured, kissing him passionately as you started riding him.
His hands gripped your waist as a way for him to try and ground himself back on this earth because fuck but, you felt fucking good too
"touch my tits please" you said, ghosting his mouth.
"Sweetheart..."
"Please, Mr. Miller" you pouted, rising and sinking from his cock even faster
"Joel- please call me Joel" 
"Please Joel, touch my tits"
And who was he to say no to you when you asked him like that?
One of his big strong hands seeped underneath your top and found your boobs, stroking and grabbing at them heavenly.
You couldn't help but gasp at the mix of pleasures, your head falling to the crook of his neck.
The sound bouncing off the walls of the living room was straight out dirty and the breeze coming from the open glass door on your left softly floated through the room, at times hitting your raw skin.
"oh my god" you whimpered, muffled by Joel's skin "o-oh my"
He was filling every inch of you, stretching you so fucking good it made you want to scream if it wasn't for Sarah sleeping just upstairs.
You lost yourself in him, in his soft grunts, in his most raw scent, in the way his beard rutted against your cheek, and slowly, slowly you felt a bubble form in your belly, getting more and more ready to explode.
"F-fuck" you whined, "I-I think I'm-I'm coming"
His only response was to tighten his hold on you, before you fastened your pace, desperately chasing your high.
your breathing got even heavier as you remerged from his neck to look at him in the eyes and meet his lips with yours once again.
Kissing his was like traveling to another universe, he was just so... perfect
 "Joel" you whispered, losing yourself in his hazel eyes, as the pleasure got stronger and stronger until you felt like you could barely breathe "Joel I love you"
You watched his eyes widen slightly but before he could speak your orgasm took over your body and you had to hide your head in the crook of his neck again to try not to moan too loud.
"it's ok" he murmured, placing a hand on the back of your head soothingly "It's all gonna be ok sweetheart"
You rode out your high, never stopping your movements, and by the time you had come down from it, Joel was on the verge of it.
"shit-I'm coming" he groaned "Where do you want it?"
 "inside" you whispered without missing a beat
"I c-can't honey-"
"please Joel" you whimpered, starting to get overstimulated "Please fill me up, Joel"
And with that simple sentence, he was done for.
"fuck-shit. shitshitshitshit" That's all he managed to spit out, as ropes of his come filled you up to the brim, just like you wanted.
You took a moment to compose yourself, inhaling his scent one more time, before you slowly got off of him.
And as you did, the moment it was all done, a strange sensation overtook you.
you'd thought that this was all you wanted, that this was gonna make you feel better, and yet... yet you couldn't help but feel like a piece of you was missing, you couldn't help but feel emptier than you were to begin with.
As you watched him hurry to put his boxers back on, you couldn't help but think that, once again, you had managed to fuck everything up.
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