#i find it hard to put into words how weird it is when like
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acowardinmordor · 5 hours ago
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I think when Steve gets Vecna'd, Eddie adds together what he knows about the situation and comes to a logical conclusion. To him at least. He knows that Steve came here asking for heavy drugs and high quantities. He knows that Steve was sounding a hell of a lot like 'sleep' meant something worse.
He knows that Steve is X, and that means all of the horrible things that Eddie knows X thinks about himself, the guy in front of him thinks that too. He knows that Steve, ever since the letters stopped, has been upsetting the freshmen by being distant and cold.
The only assumption he can come up with is that Steve already took something, and it's hit. Or it's causing a reaction. Or its a bad trip.
He has no hesitation about touching him, immediately checks his breathing and his heart rate. It sorta, kinda seems like an overdose, a little bit could be an allergic reaction, but Steve is trembling like he's scared, and his body is stiff. Those explanations don't make perfect sense, so he watches for something that would mean it IS medical, and heads towards his better guess.
Bad Trip.
Steve is high, and is in a bad brain place, and that means he needs to be grounded. Music helps, right? When he was on that bad trip with Rick after his first senior year, Rick put on one of Eddie's tapes, and talked to him. Calm shit. Encouraging shit.
Eddie fully ignores the flickering lights - electrical gets weird in the trailer sometimes - and grabs the mixtape he made for X, and shoves it into his sorta fucky boombox. It's a mix of X's favorite songs, and the ones he mentioned in his own letters. He doesn't know if Steve ever listened to them, but that tape is the only thought he has.
Gets it playing, and grabs hold of Steve's arms. He knows that Steve stopped talking to him. Since Steve knew who he was, and Eddie didn't know who X was, it means Steve probably doesn't care if Eddie wants him to be okay.
Eddie talks about how everyone else feels.
He tells him about how protective Dustin is. How angry Lucas gets anytime anyone says a bad word about Steve. How Eddie has never seen Robin smile so much. How no one judges him for needing to repeat a year. Everyone knows about how hurt he got, and everyone gets it. No one thinks worse of him for it.
He knows his voice isn't exactly calm and soothing, but the longer this insane eye-flutter, non responsive thing goes, the more terrified Eddie is.
"Steve, please, please, it's okay. Just find your way back. try to breathe, try to feel your body, and you'll be okay. I know - I know I've been an asshole to you. I know, okay. But the boys, Robin, shit, fuck, Steve, I need to apologize for shit, so you gotta slow down your breathing. Whatever you're seeing, it isn't real. I promise it's not real, okay? Come back to the real world and I can get you feeling better, I promise. Steve? Steve?"
He doesn't notice at first that Steve is starting to float. He's too focused on his face, the way his eyes are still rolled back. He lets go before he can notice his own hands rising with him. Shits too real, this isn't just a bad trip, he needs help, he needs an ambulance, a cop, anyone that can actually help Steve.
He has the phone in hand, and is about to dial when he turns back, needing to keep looking at him while he begs someone to come fast. He sees Steve in the air.
One step closer, then another. He keeps trying, another whispered sentence or three. But the lights are going crazy, and the music is staticky, the dialtone is screaming, and suddenly Steve is flattened to the ceiling, arms pulling slowly to the sides.
Eddie runs.
Leaves the door swung open as he throws himself into his van. His hands are shaking and he's hyperventilating too hard to notice Max Mayfield sprinting across the road, up the stairs and into the trailer. He's pulling away, when Max screams as Steve falls.
He hears the scream, he hears and feels the heavy thump of a weight hitting the ground. He knows what that sound must mean.
Eddie runs.
Behind him with the tape still playing, Max holds onto a terrified Steve, who has trickles of blood on his cheeks, and bruises blooming on his arms.
Steve, alive, cursed, who immediately asks if Eddie is safe.
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darlingsfandom · 1 day ago
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She’s Got A Secret !
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anon: L'I have a request to make about Neil, where the reader is his stepmother, she was cleaning his room, she notices that there are porn DVDs of her young, when she was a porn star, and talk to him and the rest will be a porno (obviously reader is dom and Neil is the sub)
Summary: Neil sets up his stepmom because he found out her secret and he plays along like he didn’t know.
TW: Stepcest! Swearing, Fem Dom! Age Gap.
AN: This is 100% fantasy/fiction! In no way do I condone Stepcest! This was requested .
Pairing: Older Fem Dom Reader x Older Sub Neil!
Reader is in her early 40s x Neil is 25!
This had to be a bad joke or something! There was no way your eyes were actually seeing what was in front of you. You bit your bottom lip as you held the DVD in your hand before placing it back where you found it. Your heart dropped a little before you sighed. Neil was your stepson, yes he’s old enough to be out on his own but he’s having a hard time with that and he does help around the house and when his father is out he’s extra handy around the house. He’s a sweet boy, funny and cute but after finding the dvd you started in along with an old magazine where you were the center fold in his room… it’s hard to see him in a certain light.
You didn’t mean to find any of it, you were just in there to put his laundry away when you see it sitting on the ground which was weird since Neil always took good care of his movies so you had it mind to do something nice and pick it up only to discover what it was.
“y/n?!” Neil yelled as he walked in the front door with the bags of groceries. You quickly picked up the laundry basket and carried it on your hip as you came downstairs to meet him in the kitchen.
“Neil.” You smiled softly before setting the basket back in the laundry room.
“Are you okay ? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” He laughed as he put away the groceries.
“Yeah yeah fine.” You waved your hand with a little laugh before you became aware of how much he was actually looking at you. You swallowed the lump in your throat. If you wanted things to go back to normal you had to tell him, it’s not like he’s your birth son and he’s twenty five for crying out loud. You ran your hands over your stomach before you opened your mouth to speak but the words got stuck.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Neil asked putting his hand on your shoulder.
“I found your porn stash!” You blurted out before covering your mouth with your hand. Neil’s cheeks turned deep red as his eyes went wide and he rubbed the back of his neck. “I didn’t mean too! I was putting your laundry away and seen a movie on the floor! You care so much about movies so I thought I’d pick it up and then I seen what it was and …”
“Oh god!” He rubbed his face with his hands.
“Sweetie, I got even worse news though…” you put your hands on his shoulders. Neil looked into your eyes before he finally spoke up.
“What? It’s not like it really could be worse unless you’re about to tell me you’re the girl in the video I’ve been mast…” His words stopped when he realized how your face went soft. “I’ve been watching my stepmoms porno..” he had mixed emotions.
“Short answer, yes you have…” you cupped his face.
“Fuck! Wait how do I know you’re not just messing with me?” Neil stepped back and you tilted your head before you turned your back to him, pulled down the top of your shorts and showed him the little flower trampstamp you had. His eyes went wide. Neil had fantasies about that tattoo and came so many times on his fist thinking of it and the girl who made such pretty sounds.
“Think I’m still messing with you?” You asked over your shoulder before he walked away and sat down on the couch. Neil ran his hands over his face again before slapping his thighs and just his luck , he had a hard on. “I know this is weird Neil, but things don’t have to be weird.” You sat down next to him and grabbed his hand.
“How? How did you do porn?” He stumbled a little which made you laugh.
“It’s a little weird to explain but all you need to know is, I had fun, I made decent money and clearly I’m pretty good since my own stepson liked it so much!” You teased him making Neil blush before he groaned.
“Did… do you still make porn?” Neil was curious.
“Now? No im too old honey .”
“That’s not true! You’d be a milf!”
“MILF?” You tilted your head slightly in confusion.
“Mom I’d love to fuck..”
Neil bit his bottom lip as he looked you up and down making you feel something you haven’t in awhile. Sure your husband fucked you but it never last long and you often had to think of someone else to get off. Neil interrupted your thighs by squeezing your arm. You shook your head before leaning back against the couch and biting your own lip back at him.
“Can I see your tits now? Do you still have a bush? Do you..”
“Neil!” You chuckled making him lean in closer giving you puppy dog eyes. “If I show you, don’t tell anyone!” Neil nodded eagerly before you grabbed the bottom of your shirt and took off the fabric to show Neil your tits. His jaw dropped.
“They’re so pretty! Just like in the video.” He reached forward and grabbed both of them gently before he started massaging them.
“Neil.. you shouldn’t be… we shouldn’t be…”
“Please! I’ll be a good boy for you.” He pouted his bottom lip and how could you say no! You’re both adults and what Neil didn’t know is that you were in the middle of divorcing his father but that’s for you to know.
You watched Neil carefully as he massaged your tits. Neil couldn’t hold back and quickly sucked your right nipple into his mouth making you gasp. He looked up at you with soft eyes while sucking your tit. He readjusted himself so that his hips were pushing into yours as he put himself in your lap so he could push his face further into your boobs while sucking your nipples. Your fingers twirled in his hair , your arousal was pooling in your panties while Neil pushed his clothes hard on against your cunt.
“You never answered my question … do you still have a bush… mommy?” Neil smirked as he licked a sting of spit up your nipple before pulling back and looking down at your lap.
“Mommy? That’s the first time you’ve ever called me that pretty boy. Is it because you want to fuck me so bad ?” You ran your finger under his chin and Neil could’ve came right then and there. You stood up, pulled down your shorts and laid back on the couch with your pussy on display but still had your panties on so Neil could see the wet patch. Before you could even form a sentence Neil had his face buried against the wet patch, desperately licking at it. “Fuck Neil , eager boy for mommy.” You teased.
Neil rubbed his face against your cunt before pulling back, hooking his fingers into the side of your panties and yanked off the fabric before his jaw dropped.
“Oh my fucking god. Such a pretty bush! Fuck! Can’t wait to eat it “Neil licked his lips.
“Yeah? Then fucking eat my cunt!” You pushed his head down and shoved your cunt into his face. Neil wrapped his arms around your thighs as he licked at your cunt. Neil knew what he was doing, he watched videos enough to know what got you going. “That’s right baby, eat mommy’s wet cunt like a good boy!” Your hips fucked forward as Neil hummed happily , his tongue licking as fast as you could to taste every inch. “Fuck!! Mommy’s good boy” you gritted your teeth as he desperately swirled his tongue into your pussy.
Neil was in heaven! He’s often dreamed about this and not just because of the video , now that he’s knows it’s you in the video, the videos have became ten thousand times hotter. Neil was so busy eating your cunt he didn’t even realize how bad the head of his cock was leaking in his boxers. He tapped your thighs and you pulled away to look down at him.
“Are you okay baby boy?” You asked. Neil nodded quickly before he stood up to pull off his pants. A soft sigh left his lips when he felt his cock spring free. “Oh honey, look at you, your poor little cock.” You wrapped your hand around his stiff cock. To be fair Neil’s cock was bigger than his father’s and had the girth you’ve wanted.
“Hurts mommy!” He gave you a soft pout.
“I bet it does, poor baby. Since I now know what you’ve been watching….” Your fingers slide up and down the veins on Neil’s cock making him whimper. You swiped your index through the pre-cum leaking and licked it off making Neil watch in awe. “I know you won’t mind if I use you for my pleasure.” You pushed Neil back on the couch, climbed onto his lap and gripped his shoulders. “But do you want this Neil ? Because we can stop.”
Neil placed his hands on your hips, pulled you down and looked into your eyes.
“I’ve never wanted anything more.” He kissed you with softness and passion. Your head was spinning at this kiss before you pulled away to see a goofy little smile on his lips. You adjusted yourself so your folds were against his cock and slowly rubbed against his cock. He sighed happily as you used him for pleasure.
You stopped suddenly before lifting your hips to hold his cock and slowly slide down on it. Your mouth hung open as his cock filled you up. You sank all the way down before allowing yourself to get comfortable. Neil was already panting since you were squeezing his cock.
“Mommy! Your cunt feels so good!” Neil praised as he laid below you.
Your lips curved into a smirk before you started bouncing up and down on his cock. Your hands rested on his chest while you bounced on his cock. The sounds of your wetness echoed throughout the room and Neil was whimpering below you, mumbling little praises of how good it feels, how amazing you are, how your moans are sinful! Both of you were panting like crazy as you dug your nails into his chest as you started to ride his cock back and forth.
“Fuck! So much better than my ex girlfriend mommy!”
“That’s right baby! Mommy knows what you need.” You kissed him while he laid there enjoying this new pleasure.
“Please let me fuck you mommy!” Neil was begging you.
“Not now baby, you’re mommy’s good little bitch right now.” You squeezed his cheeks together and Neil could’ve came right then and there again.
“Say it again mommy! I’m going to cum!” Neil was on the verge of tears.
“Aww does mommy’s little bitch need to cum? Hmm need to make a mess do you?” You swiveled your hips on his cock in a way that he’s never felt.
“Fuck please mommy! Yes I’m your little bitch!” Neil was digging his nails into your side so he wouldn’t cum.
You slowly pulled off and looked down at his wet cock. Your hand wrapped around it tightly before you got on your knees and pumped his cock.
“Say it baby, say you’re my little bitch so you can be a good boy and cum.” You smacked the head of his cock before spitting on it.
“Mommy!” Neil was a blubbering mess full of pleasure about to burst.
“Come on sweetheart, use your words.” You smacked his cock again before kissing the tip.
“Fuck! I’m your little bitch! Fuck I’m..” and before he could finish Neil exploded with cum. His cock was aching as the creamy liquid shot out onto your breasts making you gasp.
“What a good boy! Yeah mommy’s good little bitch!” You praised Neil as he squirmed and whined as he finished shooting his load against your breasts. “Now come here and lick my fucking cunt until I squirt.” You barely gave Neil a second before he was on his knees and you were on the couch with your legs spread. Your fingers ran through his cum on your breasts and you sucked them clean as Neil devoured your cunt like a starved man.
“Fuck! That’s it! Eat my fucking cunt!” You argue your back and Neil used his two fingers to slide into you which made you groan in pleasure. He had good fingering skills as well as pussy eating skills. His tongue lapped faster as you laid there enjoying the pleasure he was giving you. “Neil! That’s it! What a good boy!” Neil moaned into your cunt as you pushed his head closer and held your hand on the back of his head as you felt your orgasm building fast.
Your orgasm was on the brink and when Neil started rubbing his nose against your clit, that was it.
“Neil! Fuck! I’m cumming!” You cried out as the climax gushed out of you soaking his face. Neil desperately tried to lick up all the squirt as it splashed him. He was beyond desperate for it, everyone time he watched you squirt on the video he always imagined how it would taste and now he’s actually tasting you. Neil licked his lips as your body went limp on the couch.
“You really are good boy Neil.” You singled him back up and he stood up, grabbed your hand as he sat down next you and laid his head on your shoulder. Your fingers went through the cum on your chest and brought them to his lips. Neil slowly wrapped his mouth around your fingers and sucked gently while you used another finger to taste his cum yourself. Neil let go of your fingers with a pop before he wrapped an arm around your waist.
“Am I the best boy?” He sounded so sweet.
“Yes sweetheart, the best boy! Now I know you want to cuddle but it’s probably best we get cleaned up first.” He nodded quickly before getting up to start a shower.
“Oh and Neil, don’t tell anyone about the movie.” You raised any eyebrow at him while he nodded and smiled. He thanked whatever lucky stars he had because his plan worked after all.
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unoriginal-and-dumb · 8 hours ago
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How did Trevor get the error thingy in his arm? How did it even appear or was he born with it?
Lore drop time, its a long one so ill put it under the break
If anyone already knew it, its slightly different now, bit more expanded on, inclusion of blair, all that good stuff.
Im also making a new tag, trevlore because its funny and also so i can specifically find whatever the hell i say sometimes
Trevor was not born with it, its more like a reflection of his rapidly deteriorating mental and physical health because of some sort of stupid bad illness
Ok i guess he actually was born with it, but it never showed its face until much much later, like a dormant disease
Anyway, he was fine, maybe a little bit weird as a kid, but once he got sick it was like different, like yea he got physically ill but it also really attacked his mental health (paranoia, hallucinations, all that good stuff)
It eventually led to him basically locking himself in his room for days on end because bruh was tweaking the eff out, then got so convinced something was under his skin (probably because there was) that he eventually decided to help along the ailment that was already essentially. Uh. Eating away at his skin on his right arm.
In other words his arm got itchy, he was like yea no bruh theres totally something there, then he fucking peels his arm like a banana 🍌
Then its the error symbol
Why the error symbol though? And why was be born with it?
Well the universe he resides in is, in a way, kind of like a computer. Trevor existence is normal, he looks normal and acts normal, but is like a corrupt file, in its inner code n stuff something fucked up.
Essentially, trevor isnt supposed to exist, but he does and because of that hes acting like a sort of virus of sorts to the universe
And god ok call me cringe, i feel liek a real hypocrite because normally i get annoyed my multiverse stories unless it was like spiderverse or rick and morty (be quiet) but yea this does kinda fall into a multiverse type of idea
Since trevor is fucking up his universe hes also acting as a wormhole of sorts, SOMETIMES like when he touches something with his error arm or just tweaks out because it gets worse, he can quite literally bring parts of other universes into his own
So sometimes he’s walkin by a computer, and itll either just bug the fuck out or act as like a sort of camera into some undecipherable thing (the disease acts electronically so it is technologically leaning i guess idk it doesnt make sense dont look into it)
Even thought it is like a sort of multiverse thing its not like trevor is gonna single handedly make one universe crash into another, feels excessive and over powerful to me, i think if worst comes to worse he just jumble his universe and when he eventually DIES for one reason or another its just left as a weird glitching mess, not worsening or on the verge of collapse
Anyway, the disease is part of why trevor puts up with blair, dont get me wrong they ARE friends but blair is kinda like. Really annoying and hard to confront on certain things, they have issues listening and following peoples boundaries at times. Trevor was actually planning to have a long talk with blair but then he got real sick and suddenly everything else seemed to matter a lot less. Blair does help him, she isnt diabolical damn, but on trevors end its also a lot of receiving a lot of unwanted things (platonic affection, hes not a very “loving” person, often times preferring to be left alone outside of conversations or specifically set aside times to hang out) he just doesnt care enough about because hes busy being paranoid n shit
Specifically about blair, trevor and blair met in college, at that time trevor was 18 and blair was 19, im not gonna lie i dont have specific ages for them currently but idk both in their 20s and 1 year apart. Anyway, blair (he/she/they) is the more talkative one, they partner up in one of their classes and hang out, enjoying each others company a lot. Blair grew up pretty well off, i wouldnt say RICH RICH but yknow. Nice place. Blair would always be planning things and wanting to do stuff with trevor, trevor was mostly just happy to have a friend that seemed to actually give a shit if he was there or not (haha lonely loser). Blair is a nice person, but they do tend to speak over people, and they also can a bit hard to explain boundaries to. They kinda just apply their own personal everythings to everyone else (they love hugs and wouldnt mind receiving a surprise one, that type of stuff). They grew up on a very different path of life from trevor, so it can obviously get a little bit weird on finer levels. Blair is very idealistic to the point they forget to ground themselves in reality, i.e “omg lets get a cat!” When they can barely afford rent as is
Trevor and blair room together in an apartment near their college, trevor did however drop out because he got sick, kept getting recommended therapy for yelling at nothing in class, and also because of that his tanking grades (kinda sad for him but ohhhhh wellllll)
I dont think blair dropped college, but i dont think they went a full 4 years so maybe she just was like “hey im taking a gap year its a gap year promise” and then just stopped taking classes? Or something?? Idk im coming up with this stuff as im writing
Uh ok fast decision time right now, blairs last name is atkin, Blair Atkin. Its pulled from atkinson which came up when i searched white people last names on google. His middle name will be uhhhhh alex, haha their initials are baa. Anyway this means BlairAtkin is the blair tag now
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picnokinesis · 1 year ago
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Im kinda afraid to ask lol, but how is Part 7 of Campervan coming along? Do you know what the plot is gonna be?
Hello! I've actually been writing part 7 today! I had a bit of a break from writing over August and September because it's always an insanely busy period at work (and then I was on holiday lol), so I've only just begun writing it, but I finished the prologue yesterday and I'm now on Chapter 1, which is exciting! I've been glancing over chapters of part 6 that you guys haven't seen yet to make sure I'm getting the emotional carry over right. I've also been having fun adding allusions to the very beginning of part one. Part seven is the start of 'act three' in my head, and it's leading onto the main climax of the story, so it felt right to kind of have it directly reference where it all began.
As for the plot though, lol, it's a bit slippery at the moment but we'll see what happens hahahah
(Regarding being afraid to ask - if it's because I was a bit snappy when people asked me repeatedly about part 6, then I would say make sure that you don't send me multiple asks about part 7, especially if other people have already asked the same thing, and then you'll be fine haha. Like, I don't mind people asking about the stories - I love talking about them! - but I guess it's like...hm, it's hard to explain, and I recognise that people don't know what's going on over on my end. But also I don't know anything about who you are, yknow? I do actually have some idea of what the plot for part 7 is going to be, but I'm choosing not to tell you because - well, if you want to get an idea of where I'm going, I'd say look at the episodes that aired after Can You Hear Me?, but I do also want to keep some things a surprise, yknow? But also. I don't know half of what's going to happen yet HAHAH - if I make a plan, the Doctor will do something different on purpose so what's the point sksksksk)
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teaboot · 3 months ago
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I've never had a cat before and I'm hoping to get one soon. Do you have any advice?
Treat a new cat as you would a new roommate. Give them space and time to settle, establish a pattern and a rhythm, and in time they may choose to become friends and spend time with you. Dont force a friendship.
Use simple words and repetition to establish communication. Words like breakfast, treat, snack, lunch, supper, dinner, food, and eat all basically mean, "I am feeding you; expect to be fed", but it's a lot for a little guy to remember. I just say "Dinner" when I mean "cat food is coming", and so my boy knows exactly what I mean when I say it. As a plus, using only one word for snack time means he has no idea what the other words mean, so I can talk about food in front of him without ruling him up.
Pay attention to body language. Cats all have different personalities, and you'll learn their likes, dislikes, and messages over time this way. Son boy here loves anything with plumbing but dislikes getting wet- his favourite blanket to chew and snuggle goes on his favourite chair, and he gives me a specific gesture when he wants me to kneel down so he can jump onto my shoulder.
Read into problematic behaviour. Cats pee in weird places when they're hurting, in distress, or have insufficient of unclean litter box space. Biting, attacking feet , and knocking things off tables often means they're understimulated and need you to play with them, or at least need some kind of enrichment or puzzle to tackle. Tail flicking can be frustration or irritation. Purring is usually good, but may also be self-soothing behaviour to alleviate pain, encourage healing, and relieve anxiety, like over-grooming.
Like children, "bad" behaviour isn't malicious- it usually means there's something you aren't seeing.
Learn how your cat expresses love. Loads of people think cats are uncaring, cruel, and indifferent, but the truth is, they're just not dogs. Spending time near you, showing an interest in tools you're using or projects you're working on, sitting the way you sit, laying on their back, rubbing on your legs, wiping their face on your shoes when you get home- these are signs that your cat is enamored with you. You're their family, they feel safe and protected around you, they're curious about things you enjoy and want everyone to know you're family.
Set reasonable expectations. Again, cats are not dogs.We bred dogs to desire our approval- cats walked into our lives themselves. They have no human-programmed need to fulfill a duty or perform a task to your standards.
Training cats to do tricks isn't as hard as people say, but the willingness or interest in doing the trick is more heavily reliant on personality and mood. Some cats will refuse all but the most basic requests- I'm lucky in that Ollie understands and is willing to do several, provided I don't abuse his trust and he's not crowded or overwhelmed or just bored of doing it over and over in a short period.
Ollie, for example, knows Up to stand on his back legs and hold my hand, Down to get to a surface I indicate, Out to emerge from a closed space, Come to find me where I am, Help? when I'm offering to let him use me as an elevator, Dinner when I understand he's hungry and am getting food, and when I put on his collar he knows to climb into his carrier 'cause we're going somewhere. And he'll do any of these about 90% of the time, either ignoring me or phoning it in when there's something interesting somewhere else, or if he's feeling anxious.
Lead by example. If you dread taking them to the vet, they'll see the anxiety in your body language and behaviour and likely learn to hate it, too. Again using my guy an example, I starred taking him on walks long before his first vet appointment, just to get used to his carrier and leash. Then his first checkup was relaxed and informal, with plenty of treats, and I let him explore the examination room with permission from the tech. Now he loves going, so I'm not stressed about taking him, so I don't stress him out in turn, and the vest doesn't have to deal with a stressed out cat slowing things down and fighting with them.
Make sure your sources are good ones, and also good ones for you. I will recommend Jackson Galaxy's YouTube channel for cat advice because a lot of what he does matches up with what I've learned and know to be true. I don't personally recommend Ceasar Milan because I personally find his methods distressing to recreate regardless of efficacy, so even if that advice was useful, *I'd* be miserable, and it'd just be trading one issue for another.
Have a person who can help. You never know when you might end up out of town overnight unexpectedly, or when your place may need serviced or fumigated, or if you may be called out of town. Before getting a cat, research reliable pet sitters, house sitters, pet daycares, whatever, just in case.
Consider pet insurance. No long spiel here, just think about it. Especially if you don't know your cats ancestry or potenyial health risks. An on top of that, fucking vaccinate them.
Dont let them free roam. At all.
I grew up on a farm with free-roaming barn cats. Do you know how many times child-me cried over having to bury them? Illness, disease, pregnancy, vehicles, other territorial cats, ticks, fleas, litter, poisoned prey, malicious humans, local wildlife, predatory birds, scrap metal, extreme heat, freezing temperatures, tainted water sources, poisonous or venomous critters, getting stuck in small or high places, tapeworms, loose nails, old equipment, falling branches...
I've seen some truly body-horror slasher-movie shit- just truly nauseating visual fuckery- and I'm telling you not to let your cat free-roam.
Leash training isn't hard. Supervised walks aren't hard. Even keeping your cat physically fit and entertained indoors isn't an impossible feat. Don't let your fucking cat fucking free-roam. Fuck
Also read up on foods and plants cats can't do, like every houseplant in existence is toxic it's insane
Anyhow yeah that's like. A couple things I guess
Here, have an Ollie Pic
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nanaslutt · 24 days ago
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MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI
toji “i’m not gay” fushiguro letting shiu fuck him (not in a gay way because he’s def not gay)
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“fuuuuuck.” toji groans, digging his heels into the sheets where he has his knees bent. shiu’s hand around his cock is so tight, stroking him off steadily while he eats him out.
toji burries his hand in shius hair and grips the strands roughly, making shiu grunt against his ass. “fuck, so rough. this is how you say thank you for eating your ass?” he teases, kissing his thigh before sucking on his balls while teasing toji’s cockhead with his fingers.
toji sucks air in through his teeth, eyes fluttering. “don’t kiss me, and you know you like it.” he yanks on shius hair again, emphasizing his words when he grunts in pleasure, lips popping off of his balls.
“so i can burry my tongue here?” shiu says, sucking and licking against his hole, making toji buck against his face. shiu shakes his head back and forth, letting his tongue sloppily lick him down there, before he pulls back. “but i can’t kiss you?”
“it’s fucking weird, i’m not a woman.” toji grunts, slapping shius hand out of the way to jerk himself off when he goes too slow for his liking.
shiu smirks predatorily and climbs up the bed, taking his own cock in his hand while he slides himself between tojis legs. “no, you definitely aren’t.” he agrees, teasing tojis hole with the tip of his cock by rubbing it up at down.
toji bites his lip, jerking his dripping cock faster. “hurry up, don’t have all day.” he grunts, squeezing shius waist with his knees.
shiu presses the tip of his cock against his hole harder, teasing him to the tip before pulling back out. “what if i want to hear you beg?” shiu teases, nudging toji’s balls with his cock and making him groan.
“i’m not begging for your cock, i’m not gay.” toji grunts, reaching down to grip shuis thigh while undulating his hips up and down.
shiu smiles and drags his cock back to tojis asshole, finally giving him what he wants. toji groans long and low, gripping the base of his cock in an iron hold to prevent himself from cumming prematurely while he presses his lips together, eyes rolling to the back of his head.
“my cock is in your ass, zenin.” shiu says, pulling out to give toji a shallow thrust. toji immediately grunts when he finds that sweet spot inside him right away.
“so?” he replies breathily, begining to stroke his cock when shiu starts pumping into him steadily.
shiu wraps his arms around tojis thick thighs, holding them to his chest before he starts to pick up the pace, balls slapping welty against tojis ass as he pounds his hole. “you said you’re not gay, but you let me put my cock in your ass.”
tojis eyes are rolling back in his head, and he grits his teeth, reaching up with one hand to pinch his sensitive nipple while stroking himself off. shiu pounds right against his prostate with each thrust, making his stomach heat. “shut the fuck up. fuck. shit, fuck that feels fucking good.”
shiu bites his lip before poking the inside of his cheek with his tongue, leaning back to angle his hips upwards more. he’s rewarded by a loud grunt from toji when he pegs his prostate dead on. the slapping of his balls against tojis ass is so vulgar and aggressive, he loves it.
“feels good when a cock massages your prostate, huh?” shiu teases, watching toji act like a slut on his cock, pinching his nipples and tightening his hole like a pro.
“doesn’t- make me fucking gay, fuck!!” he borderline yells when shiu presses his legs down by his head, lifting his ass off the mattress as he starts pounding him deep.
“god, i’m in ur fucking stomach zenin. you like that doll? huh?”
his only response is tojis hand smacking against his lips to shut him up. shiu darts his tongue out and instantly is met with the taste of his salty cum. toji is still pinching his nipples, but he let his cock go to shut him up. now it’s bouncing freely against his stomach, so red and hard, almost ready to burst. shiu wants so badly to suck it down his throat and relieve his ache.
“give it to me harder, know you can do better than that, cmon.” toji grunts. shius balls throb when toji slaps his ass before digging his nails into the fat of it, still pinching his nipple so hard it looks borderline painful.
“your hole is so tight, zenin. you feelin it? cos im gonna cum.”
toji starts fucking him back harder, cock slapping well against his stomach, leaving a pool of pre on his abdomen. “you’re such a- one minute man, make me cum first. selfish- fucking-“ tojis mouth falls open in a silent moan when shiu stars pounding harder, deeper, faster.
tojis cock erupts, his balls pushing out his cum all over his torso as he orgasms handsfree. his seed shoots all over his chest, some even getting on his chin as he tips his head back and groans like his soul is leaving his body.
“oh yeah baby, fuuuck. milking my fucking cock. god you’re so sexy cumming without touching your dick. fuck!!” shiu isn’t far behind him. he presses his body weight down on toji and stills as he spills his seed inside his tight asshole, grunting when rope after rope fills him.
both men breath heavily come down from their orgasms. shius head is burried in tojis neck, and toji curses at him when shiu kisses his chest. pushing off of his body, still inside him, he teasingly thrusts his softening cock inside his ass. “think it’s gay to have an ass full of cum, zenin?”
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reidrum · 6 months ago
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like i would | s.r
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pairing: spencer reid x bau!fem!reader
a/n: ok im gonna be honest idk how i feel about this one, i just wanted to finish it and put it out so apologies in advance if its not the best lol. this was requested with the prompt "i bet he can't fuck you like i can"! feedback and reblogs are always appreciated ! thanks for being paitent while i got this one out <3
cw: 18+ minors dni, smut, fingering, munch!spencer, jealous!spencer, unprotected p in v (wrap it before you whack it), reader's bf has a name which i hate in fics but its so hard to write this trope without a name so, afab!reader,
summary: a confession about your sex life makes it's way to the one person you'd hope wouldn't hear, and now he's determined to rectify the way you've been wronged
wc: 4.5k
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you were a great asset to the bau. it was why you were personally recommended by emily to transfer out of sex crimes, the skill set you brought alongside the field training you had proved to be vital for the team’s success lately. you were also a great asset to the team. the bau was notorious for having people turnover fast, and you knew they were apprehensive with newcomers. but you managed to hit it off with every single member, one more than others.
spencer reid did not expect someone like you to join the team. not that he didn’t have faith in your talents and skills, he’s read your file and obviously knows you’re more than qualified to be here. he just did not expect someone who looked like you to join the team, someone who didn’t look beaten down by the horrors of the world and still believed in pots of gold at the end of rainbows. 
it didn’t help that you were so beautiful he literally would feel his heart ache when you walked in. like literally, would have to rub his chest to soothe the pain. and as spencer would, he would logic out his feelings with science because that’s all they are, scientific chemical reactions in the body. but what he felt in your friendship, what he felt when he was lucky enough to be in your presence, was something no textbook, theorem, or equation could explain.
so imagine the size of the fucking hammer coming down on his head when he finds out you have a boyfriend who: 1. is not him, and 2. is an actual real life bozo.
apparently you’d been seeing damon from organized crime for about a month now, that’s what he heard from penelope, and you ‘claim’ to be super happy. 
spencer doesn’t buy it.
he’s seen the way your ‘relationship’ operates, and he’s got the facts to back it up. damon never lets you get a word in when you’re in group settings, even purposefully talking over you when you’re clearly attempting to speak. majority of the time he’s condescending about your job as a profiler for the bau, saying that him and his team bring down drug rings, but you guys ‘just read their horoscope or whatever and decide the killer.’
it made spencer’s blood boil hotter than the sun. he couldn’t figure out why you put up with it, and why you continue to.
the final straw that broke the camel's back about his disapproval on your relationship choices, is what he overheard on the jet one time on the way back from a case.
the girls were talking in the back of the jet, unaware of spencer’s very awake mind despite his visibly sleeping body.
“i don’t know guys,” you had started with a sigh, “you think it’s weird right?”
“that your own boyfriend won’t go down on you? yeah hon, that’s fucking weird.” emily strikes.
“what did he say exactly?” jj asked.
“he said it increases the risk of STIs on the mouth? and doesn’t like the feeling of thighs crushing his head? and that even with all the … grooming … it’s still unnatural ?”
emily gagged while jj continued, “um…but do you like…on him?”
“yes! he literally won’t touch me unless i do!” you rage whisper.
“i am about to give him an organized crime to deal with,” emily half jokes, “what an asshole, why are you still with him?”
“i don’t know, he’s still nice to me i guess, and maybe i’m just being dramatic. or maybe i’m just not someone people go down on, who knows.” you sigh.
spencer stops listening, he can’t hear you talk so poorly of yourself. not when it’s so far from the truth yet you’ve been indoctrinated to think it’s accurate. how anyone could take advantage of you like that is beyond him, but it did light a fire inside of him and made him determined to help you realize you deserve so much better. if that happens to be him, then who is he to fight that?
spencer doesn’t get his chance to prove it to you for another two weeks, when you’d come over to his apartment for a movie night after getting in a fight with damon, your date night being canceled and leading you to spencer’s doorsteps, all dolled up with tears lining your eyes asking to come in.
he doesn’t even have time to be mad at your shithole boyfriend when he’s ushering you inside, offering you to sit on the couch while he goes and put a kettle on the stove for tea.
“i’m really sorry to just show up like this, spence.”
he doesn’t even blink before calling out from the kitchen, “don’t apologize, i’m always here for you. anytime and anywhere.”
you give him a soft smile before returning your gaze to the soft glow of doctor who.
he returns cradling two mugs in one hand and a pack of haribo gummies in the other. spencer doesn’t care for gummies, he’s more of a chocolate guy, but he knows it’s your favorite. so he makes sure to keep a couple bags in his apartment for you.
“my favorite!” you gush. his heart warms at your smile as he sits next to you on the couch. you naturally gravitate towards him to lean your head on his shoulder, and it’s automatic for spencer to wrap an arm around your shoulders to pull you closer.
the whirs and whooshes of the tardis fill the silence for the next hour as you visibly become calmer than when you first arrived. he decides this is a good time to ask, “do you want to talk about it?” as he turns his head to look at you.
“i don’t know,” you say quietly popping another gummy in, “i’m starting to believe it's just a me problem. like, maybe i’m just objectively not a great partner, and that’s why we keep getting in these fights. you know this time, he said i’m not worth all the effort and stress i bring him and that because of me he’s gonna bald at 29? i’m not a scientist like you or anything but even i know that, at least, can’t be my fault.” you end with a chuckle.
spencer knows he should probably comfort you in this time of honesty you’ve graced him with, squash your insecurities like a pesky bug on the windshield, and tell you how beautiful you are in as many words it’ll take for you to believe it (and he knows a lot of words).
but right now? he’s just fucking pissed.
not at you, never at you. at your situation, yes. at that sorry excuse of a partner let alone agent, immensely.
so he can’t help what escapes his mouth next, “why do you let yourself get treated like shit?”
you look up at him in surprise, at both the cursing and what he said, “what?”
“you’re constantly talking about how awful he treats you, and yet everyday you still go back to him knowing it’s going to repeat the next day. i just want to know why you don’t respect yourself enough to not let that happen to you.”
pulling away to sit far from him on the couch,  you start letting the annoyance show on your face, “spencer, that’s not fair at all. you think it’s my fault? do you really think i want to feel like this?”
“yes!” he shouts, “you seem like you do with how much you crawl back to him everytime, and everytime you let him back in.”
“okay, i think i should go,” you stand up and grab your things, “it was a mistake to come here, goodbye spencer.”
he grabs your wrist before you can get too far, “i just have to know, what is it?”
“what’s what spence, let me go.”
“what keeps you going back to him, it can’t be because you love him. it’s obviously not because you’re happy with him,” he lets out.
“you don’t know anything about me or my life, spencer!” you snatch away your arm and start heading towards the door.
“it’s definitely not because the sex is good, because i know it’s not.”
any emotion you had on your face wipes away like an etch a sketch, staring blankly at the door, hearing the man you’ve harbored a crush on since you started at the bureau years ago, telling you he knows your sex life is abysmal.
your voice comes out small, “h- how would you know that?” you don’t dare to turn around, knowing that if you did any resolve you held onto, any denial of emotions you’ve stripped from yourself would come pouring out like a broken dam.
the couch groans at a loss of weight, and the floorboards creak closer and closer to you.
“i heard you, on the jet.”
you’re especially glad he can’t see the blood draining from your face. if your heart already wasn’t at your feet, it’s most likely six feet under at this point. 
he heard you?
“when you were talking with the others about how he doesn’t reciprocate, and won’t sleep with you unless you get him off.” he continues.
the room is getting hotter by the millisecond, temperature about to be comparable to the sun’s core. it’s one thing to have just anyone hear the intimate details of your life, but spencer? the man to which you’d been using damon to get over?
the only sound that can be heard is your increasingly heavy breathing, and spencer feels like he’s caught a fish on his line and is ready to reel you in as he inches closer to you.
“you’re okay with that? not being taken care of in the way you deserve?”
his presence is merely nanometers behind you, the ghost of his fingers looking for landing on your hips. when you don’t move away, and he hears your breath hitch at the contact, he sets his hands more earnestly on your curves as he leans down to the nape of your neck.
“just don’t know,” kiss, “how anyone,” kiss, “wouldn’t want,” kiss, “to give you everything.” kiss.
your head lolls back onto his firm chest as he whispers in your ear, “cat got your tongue, sweetheart? you were so mouthy not even five minutes ago. be honest with me, has he even ever made you come?”
the whimpers escape you without warning and you find a single decibel of voice to speak, “spencer…” hoping the whine would dissuade him to let it go.
“uh uh, i asked you a question,” his arm tightens around the front of your waist to press back and fully feel him, “answer me.”
your lexicon has depleted except for the one word you know he’s desperately waiting for you to say, and the one he knows is the answer. yet you know the second it leaves your mouth, everything changes. and maybe you’re okay with that.
“no.”
spencer hums lowly, “has anyone made you come?”
“no.” you say again, softer this time.
“should we change that?”
this was not what you expected when you came to see him after your failed night out. the amount of processing you’d done in the last year to essentially not be thinking about spencer 24/7 was extensive. and you were ready to render it all useless in a matter of seconds.
so you let the strap of your bag fall down your arm and hit the ground with a thud, and finally turned around to look the good doctor in his eyes. while his voice held traces of anger and frustration, you came to see his eyes were full of reassurance and comfort, the spence you always knew to prioritize your wellbeing more than anything.
he looked down at you and slid his hand to up to cup your jaw, and he hears the smallest murmur, so delicate yet so full of want leave your lips.
“yes.”
that was all spencer needed to catch your lips in a heated kiss, moving your body to the closest wall as he places a hand behind your head to protect you from the wall’s impact while the other pins your waist to the wall.
you move your arms to wrap around his neck and keep him pinned to you with no escape, like he’d ever want to. his lips detach from yours and make a descent towards your neck again, taking deliberate effort to locate the sensitive spots.
he finds one just behind your ear and spends time sucking and bruising up the spot, relishing in the soft whimpers leaving your mouth. while you’re lost in the sensation on your neck, you don’t notice spencer move one of his hands closer to the button of your pants, effortlessly (and impressively) opening it up.
detaching from your neck with a heavy pant, he moves back to lean against your forehead with his own and look you in the eyes to ask, “is this okay? we can stop if you want, i didn’t mean to be so forw-“
“please don’t stop.”
he searches your eyes for any conflict and finds none, considering it the okay to continue his downward descent. he returns his lips to the second home they’ve made on your lips and starts to push your pants down over the curve of your ass, leaving your panties on.
the flash of purple lace underwear glares at him when he glances down, and suddenly he remembers what got him in this position in the first place.
“were you wearing this for him?” he lets out condescendingly, “you really think he deserved to see you like this?”
spencer’s fingers brush against your front, leaving your heavy breaths hitting him in the face. you can’t think of anything to say. hell, you’re not even sure if you know any words right now. all you can offer is a pathetic moan, and spencer doesn’t think that’s enough.
“come on, don’t get all shy now. what were you expecting him to even do, hm? thought you said he didn’t care about making you feel good.” he taunts as his middle finger traces the outlines of your cunt through your panties.
you shudder at the contact, leaning your head back against the wall as he refuses to break eye contact. he’s waiting for you to say something, raising his eyebrows expectantly as he’s slowed down his movements on you. taking a shallow breath you open your mouth, “h-, he didn’t care, just thought if i ke-, kept looking nice he’d wanna, fuck, do something.” you moan out.
“and did he?” he moved his hand back up to slowly slip into your panties.
his finger dips all the way down to your entrance to gather your wetness and spread it all the way back up to your clit, your mouth dropping open as you let out a whiny, “no.”
“what a shame.” he dips a finger into your hole and you let out a pornographic moan.
he drags his finger in and out slowly making sure to watch your face as it contorts in pleasure. once he feels you’ve gotten used to it he slips in a second finger, increasing the pace and moving his thumb to circle your clit again.
“oh fuck,” you cry.
“baby, you’re so tight.” he whispers. the way you clenched around his two digits made feel almost pussy drunk, and he wasn’t even inside you yet. he starts to wonder if damon was doing anything really to prioritize your pleasure, and it only just worked him up more. he felt more determined to bring you to finish, so he picks up the pace and increases the pressure on your clit.
you drop your head to his shoulder no longer being able to hold yourself up anymore, the sensation of his fingers on you taking over, loose whimpers and moans falling out of your mouth every other second.
“spencer…shit, i’m gonna come…”
“let go for me, baby.” he whispers in your ear.
the pleasure barrels through you like a wrecking ball, knocking the wind out of your mind and body. your legs turn into jelly and you almost fall before spencer holds you up. you try to regulate your breathing into his shoulder, hoping to calm down before you look up and meet his eyes again.
he makes that choice for you when he gingerly lifts your head up, his eyes silently asking if you’re okay. you don’t even bother responding before softly pressing your lips to his again, hoping he can feel your response to his silent question.
the kiss picks up in urgency, and soon his hands are back to exploring your body again. they slide down to the backs of your thighs while he murmurs a small, “jump.” and lifts you to wrap your legs around his waist. without breaking the kiss he walks you both to his bedroom and places you on his bed with care.
his fists flank you on both sides as he leans down to kiss you, and he moves further down kissing along your neck and chest. you reach down to the bottom of your top to pull it over your head, leaving you in the purple lacy bra that matches your panties.
he detaches from you and stands at full height, gazing at the sight of you spread out on his bed with your hair framing you like a halo. he can’t even help himself when he says, “you look so beautiful, angel.” the blush rises to your cheeks, and you beckon him to come back down to which he happily obliges.
spencer moves down further towards your hips, and his lips ghost over the lace band spreading along your waist. his fingers play with the fabric and he moves his face to be directly in line with your clothed cunt. your breathing gets heavy, and you anticipate what he’s about to do.
“wait, you don’t, you don’t have to do that, spence. i already came.” starting to feel a bit guilty at the man above you potentially feeling obligated to do this, as you realize that if he heard you on the jet, he heard about the one thing damon refused to do for you.
“sweetheart, i’d love to keep making you feel good as long as you let me, okay? you gonna let me make you feel good?” he breaths, pressing chaste kisses to your inner thighs.
you give a slight nod and he gently pulls your panties off your legs, marveling at the light glistening off your cunt. he kisses up the plush of your thighs before pausing right where you need him the most. you look down at him and meet his unwavering eyes full of love.
he places a long kiss to your core before licking a long stripe. you moan out languishly, the euphoric feeling taking over every sense in your body. you’re unable to comprehend how you went so long without feeling this, it almost feels criminal. and the way spencer was eating you out, felt like this was doing it for him too even though you were the one getting pleasured. 
it turned you on even more to know he was getting off on how much you were enjoying this. your head was spinning off into another realm, and the only thing tethering you to this reality was the grip of your hands in his hair. his tongue made circles and shapes all over your cunt before dipping down to thrust into your hole.
your thighs shake and threaten to clamp shut on his head, and he uses his wide hands to wrap around your thighs to hold them in place. “oh my god fuck, that feels so good…spence…please..” you’re not even sure what you’re begging for, but of course, spencer does when he adds a finger into your hole and moves his tongue to focus back on your clit. the combined sensations were enough to tip you over the edge for the second time tonight, your release glistening on his chin as he moved back up to kiss your lips again.
your heavy panting tries to bring you back down from your high, a mix of sweat and the taste of you lingering everywhere. 
spencer smooths your hair back as he moves his body to lie next to you, “i think, damon’s a fucking loser, if he doesn’t think that’s worth doing.” he says between pants.
you hum in agreement, or just in acknowledgement at whatever he said since you’re still reeling from the endorphin release. hiking your leg over his body to straddle him, you clumsily reach for his belt and attempt to undo the clasps to reach his growing member. you pull his pants down and palm him through his boxers, reveling in the broken moans falling from his mouth. you start inching downwards when spencer grabs you by the forearms and flips you over so you’re back on the bed staring up at him.
“not tonight, sweetheart. it’s about you right now, wanna make sure you know what you deserve.”
“but…” you pathetically respond.
“i don’t know what that neanderthal tells you, but sex is not transactional. i think if i ever see that guy again, i’d punch him for making you think otherwise.”
the words go straight to your core, turning you on even more. spencer takes note of how your pupils widen and your chin tilts up towards him.
“besides,” he presses his crotch to yours, “the sex wasn’t even that good with him, right?”
you moan out again, unable to find words to satisfy his question. he leans back up and off the bed to fully remove his boxers and you finally get a good look at what was underneath.
holy fuck, he was huge. you propped yourself on your forearms to get a better look at him, and watched as he lazily stroked himself while he sauntered back over to you. the image was so lewd, you hoped you could borrow some of his eidetic memory so you could hold on to this moment forever.
his face held a smug smirk at your awestruck one, and he felt his ego inflate even higher, “by the looks of your reaction, i’m guessing he’s never been much of a, challenge, for you in bed has he?”
you dumbly shake your head no, “definitely not as big as you.” you whisper, more to yourself than him.
his smirk grows wider, “don’t worry, baby, i’ll take real good care of you.” he says as he climbs over you to line himself up to your entrance.
you feel him slowly start to push in, the sensation of being split open growing bigger by the second. your brows furrow and your eyes are shut tight as you wait for the pressure to turn into pleasure.
if spencer thought you around his fingers had him pussydrunk, what he’s feeling now has to be close to pussy poisoning or something because he cannot think of anything in existence that feels as good as the walls of your cunt clenching around his cock. it’s taking everything in him to not break, to just fuck you senseless and reach his peak.
once his hips are flush with yours and he’s fully settled within you, he waits for you to give him the okay to move.
you, on the other hand, have never felt more full ever. damon was not nearly this big, nor has any other guy you’ve been with. it’s a bit of a miracle on how it fit inside you, and how it felt better than anything you could’ve imagined. the pressure and slight pain subsides, and with a slight nod spencer takes the cue to start moving.
the first thrust has you both moaning out in harmony together, and he sets the pace nice and slow so as to make sure you’re comfortable.
but it's not enough for you, you need him to fuck you.
“spence…harder.”
he stills at your word, leaning up so he’s perpendicular to you.
“whatever you say, princess.”
and he starts pounding into you, hips rutting at a pace you can’t even keep up with. the whimpers and moans gush out as the familiar coil begins to build within you. he taps your leg to lift it up over his shoulder to allow him deeper access, and he’s able to reach that one spot you’d heard about from all your friends, on reddit, in movies. you had no idea this type of feeling even existed, and spencer was hitting it with precision every single thrust over and over.
“fuck,” you whine.
“that feel good, baby?” he teases, “the way you’re squeezing my cock so tight, i doubt that fucker ever made you feel like this, huh?”
your tits bounce with every thrust, and the deepened angle has you reaching your climax fast. spencer feels it too and drops his head to whisper in your ear.
“i bet he’s never fucked you like this,” he continues his taunt, “he’d never be able to fuck you like i can, make you come three times in one night like i can.”
you whimper, “spencer,”
“say it, sweetheart. say no one’s ever fucked you like me.”
he was trying to kill you, death during intercourse would be a crazy way to go out but it’s a fate you’d be willing to accept. nonetheless, you comply.
“never ever, fuck, been fucked like you, baby.”
spencer has never felt more satisfied, “good girl, now come.” and with a final thrust he lets you reach your peak as he releases himself into you.
in the midst of groans he gingerly pulls out of you and you whimper at the loss.
the next few minutes are just filled with the sounds of yours and his heavy breathing, before spencer leans over to you, “was that too much?”
still in your daze you let out a soft giggle, “spencer, i think you’ve ruined all men for me.”
he smiles back, “i meant what i said, damon’s really stupid if he’s not willing to do all that for you.”
you intertwine your hand with his, “you know, i never really liked him anyway. i was just using him to get over you.”
“me?” he says incredulously.
you nod, “i didn’t know if you would’ve felt the same so i just tried to move on to someone else, stupid i know, but i don’t know it made sense then.”
he pulls you closer to rest in the crevice of his chest, “i have been into you since the day you walked into the bullpen, and letting you slip through my fingers is a mistake i will never make again.”
you hug him tightly before groaning out loud, “shit, i have to tell damon it’s over now don’t i.”
“i mean, i could tell him if you want.”
“spence, no. i think you might kill him.” you laugh, “i can do it, i just don’t want him to get all ‘organized crime’ on me.”
“just tell him i have a gun.”
“so does he?”
“mine’s bigger.” he smirks.
you roll your eyes, “well, yes.”
3K notes · View notes
pathsofoak · 1 year ago
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help I've anthropomorphized morphology
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shy-writer-999 · 2 months ago
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Summary: Luffy gets into an alluring tin of mysterious cookies. One thing leads to another, and he ends up in your room, disoriented and distressed. What will it take to help him feel better? ~5k words.
CW: Smut with a bit of plot. Afab reader, gendered language (“princess”), overstimulation, dry humping, begging, aphrodisiacs, penetrative sex.
MINORS DNI. NSFW CONTENT.
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Luffy stumbles into your cabin late at night. The door is wide open and it seems like no one else on the Sunny is awake. You’re messing around on your phone, doom scrolling to pass the time and entertain yourself. You wish that you could fall sleep, but it won’t come any time soon. It’s a restless sort of night.
He almost trips over his feet as he crashes onto the chair by your desk.
“Luffy, what’s up? It’s late.”
A closer look at him reveals that he’s sweating and bright red. His eyes look off and he looks sick.
“Are you okay?” You’re worried—he looks seriously unwell.
“I feel funny. I think I ate something bad, my tummy hurts.” Luffy’s brows are bent in the middle and he’s grimacing.
You’ve seen Luffy when he has food poisoning before. He literally turns green and complains non-stop. It’s his own fault, he’s like a racoon. He’ll eat anything, regardless of how questionable it is. Old leftovers wherever he can find them, almost-rotting fruit, poisonous fish, none of it matters for Luffy. If it looks edible, he’s taking it to the neck. He frequently suffers the consequences.
But right now, he’s not green, like he usually is when he’s eaten something spoiled. He looks different.
You get up and walk over to him, placing your hand on his forehead. When your skin touches his, he lets out what initially sounds like some sort of moan, but you shrug it off—that must have been a wail of pain, right? He’s concerningly feverish and sweating bullets.
Does he have the flu? Should you wake up Chopper?
“Luffy, you’re burning up. Like, you have a really bad fever. I’m going to get Chopper.”
“Wait, I feel—I feel weird inside,” Luffy’s voice strains and he sounds like he’s in pain He’s visibly shivering. “It’s like my stomach is on fire, but I feel cold.” He continues almost babbling, so obviously in distress and discomfort, feverish nonsense falling from his lips impulsively.
You don’t realize it yet, but his hand wanders to his crotch and starts to fidget.
“Your stomach is on fire but you’re freezing cold? Did you eat something that went bad again? What did you eat?” You raise an eyebrow at him, vaguely annoyed. He sure doesn’t look like he has food poisoning. Also, there isn’t usually much spoiled food on the ship. Sanji keeps the fridge nice, tidy, and clean.
Why did Luffy come to you, instead of Chopper? He’s distracted, eyes zoning out somewhere and his face wrinkled up. He must not have heard you.
“I said, what did you eat? Luffy!”
“I ate—fuck,” Luffy’s brows furrow and he closes his eyes in anguish. “Ate Sanji’s cookies.”
“You did what? Sanji’s cookies? The ones with the huge note that says ‘do not eat’ on the tin?”
Luffy lets out another wail of pain and shifts in his seat. His fingers squeeze his crotch again. He’s hard, rubbing his massive erection, sliding his fingers over it, squeezing it and playing with himself.
“Luffy, what are you doing?!” You’re incredulous when you realize he’s touching himself. You’ve never seen anything like this before. He’s your captain, for fuck’s sake. What was he doing touching himself in your room, with a raging fever and chattering teeth?
Putting the pieces together, you remember that Sanji had devilish smirk as he brought his special souvenir onto the ship. It was a pretty box, made of metal, covered in some sort of light blue paint, filigreed with gold accents and illustrations of pretty pink ribbons. The chef put an obnoxious “DO NOT EAT SANJI’S COOKIES” sign on the box and slid them to the top shelf of the pantry, almost out of reach. It was, admittedly, extremely naïve of Sanji to expect Luffy to pay any heed to that sign.
You put two and two together. The cookies must have had something in them.
As a response to your indignance, Luffy squeezes his erection harder and gasps quietly. Sweat drips from his temples and down his cheeks. His mouth hangs open, and his pupils are huge. He’s a fucking mess, and you have no clue what to do in this situation.
“’m so cold,” he whines and shakes. “Too c-c-cold.”
This is wildly inappropriate, but… you are kind of turned on, just because he’s touching himself. You have some sort of repressed crush on your captain—how could you not? You usually push it to the back of your mind, though. Pining over him is a waste of time when nothing would ever come of it.
“Fuck,” Luffy’s voice is gravelly and his hand moves of its own accord. “Feels like it’s helping. Feels warm.”
Your heart does a flip. Luffy is palming his cock in front of you, panting with arousal, head thrown back. He can’t help but touch himself. It’s the only thing that’s relieving his discomfort, evidently. You feel awkward, but it’s almost starting to get you going. You’re blushing up your neck and frozen still.
Luffy’s eyes wander to your chest—he’s staring at your breasts, drinking in the shape of them and the outline of your nipples though your shirt. You start to turn red, matching his color rapidly.
“Luffy, what the fuck? Stop! You’re a wreck.” You divert the awkwardness for a second. “No wonder the sign says do not eat! I’m going to get Chopper. You need to rest. Go do that in your room.”
Luffy grinds his palm down his erection and a stifled sound of pleasure gets caught in his throat. You pause, against your better judgment. That sound—the sound of Luffy in pleasure—makes you feel some sort of way. You start to warm up between the legs.
“I want you to do it.” Luffy’s voice gets lower each time he talks. He’s still shaking, freezing, sweating, and unwell. But he’s touching himself, and you had imagined this before. It’s hard to look away.
“What?” You respond reflexively, caught completely off guard. Did you hear him right?
“Want you to touch me,” he whines and continues to rub himself. The friction feels electric. “I think it’ll h-help.”
Luffy’s eyes are half open and glossy, still riveted on your tits. His pupils are really dilated. His fingers grasp and stroke his hard cock through his shorts, and each sound that leaves his mouth goes straight between your thighs.
“You want me to touch you? Are you… Are you sure, Luffy?”
“Need it,” he scrunches his face up. “’m going crazy.”
You bite your lip and pause for a second. If your captain was asking you for help, you might as well assist him… Also, this didn’t feel like that crazy of a request for help, considering the fact that he’d literally die for you (and has gotten close to that on multiple occasions). And you could tell he wasn’t being malicious or predatory about his request—he was just being Luffy, asking plainly for something. If you said no, he would be fine. He may whine a bit, but he’d never genuinely pressure you to do something you were uncomfortable with.
But fuck, was he in his right mind? You shake your head. You want to touch him. But you are genuinely worried about him. It must be 2:00AM, so you need to wake up Chopper. You might want to touch Luffy, but you have to do your due diligence. You care about Luffy. If he’s sick or in danger, you have to make sure he’s okay.
“Luffy, no. I’m going to get Chopper. Just wait here.”
You speed-walk down the hallway, heart racing. What a bizarre turn of events. You didn’t expect that to happen when Luffy initially walked in your room. When you reach the door to Chopper’s cabin, you knock.
No answer. He’s obviously asleep.
You knock again. “Chopper? It’s me. Please get up. Luffy’s sick.”
Another knock. Rustling blankets. You can hear Chopper hobble to the door. He opens it and pokes his little head out, squinting. He’s wearing one of those sleeping gowns and a cute hat. “Mhm? What’s wrong with him?”
“Uh... He has a fever. He’s burning up and he’s shaking. He’s sweating a lot, too.” You figured you’d save the ‘and he’s masturbating’ part for later. Maybe you didn’t have to say it at all?
“Does he have food poisoning? Did he eat anything out of the ordinary?”
“Well, I don’t think he has food poisoning... But he ate some of Sanji’s cookies.”
“What’s in the cookies?” Chopper is shading his eyes from the dim hallway light. He’s half asleep and you feel bad for waking him up.
“I-I don’t know. Maybe there was something weird in them?”
Chopper yawns. Fuck. He looks like he’s falling asleep again. You can’t blame him, really, it’s way past his bedtime.
“Chopper, can you please come look at him?”
He yawns again. “I’m sleepy. Can you ask Sanji what’s in the cookies and get back to me? I just want to go to bed a little bit longer.”
You huff and frown as Chopper shuts his door. So now you were supposed to play telephone? If it was anyone else you would have chewed them out, but you couldn’t do that to Chopper.
Extremely aggravated, you storm down the hallway to Sanji’s cabin and knock on the door, loudly. It’s an angry knock. A fuck-you knock.
“Sanji. Get up.” Silence for a moment while the blonde jolts awake. “I said get up.”
His door opens just a tad until he realizes it’s you. Then he opens it wider. His hair is all rustled up and he’s shirtless, in boxers. If he wasn’t half-asleep, he’d be blushing and acting ridiculous because you’re seeing him half-naked.
“Oh, hello beautiful.” His voice is scratchy and he’s blinking. “How may I help you? Are you finally going to crawl into bed with me?” He flashes a cheeky grin and you almost slap him.
“No, Sanji. Luffy ate your cookies. He’s a mess.”
The cook’s half-asleep composure immediately drops. “He did what?”
You can tell he’s fully awake now.
“I said, he ate your fucking cookies, Sanji. What is in those things!?”
“FUCK. How many did he eat?”
“How many? How should I know?! He’s in my room with a fever right now. It’s Luffy, we can assume he probably ate the whole box.”
Sanji smirks and laughs out loud. “Well, there’s only one way to fix that. Good night, princess.” He winks and shuts the door in your face.
“Sanji, what the fuck!?”
You knock on his door again, but you can hear him get back in bed. You’re beyond pissed. You’re ready to kick the door down and wring his neck. But… you have a sinking feeling that you know what the cook is getting at. Fuck. The cookies have some sort of aphrodisiac in them.
You trudge back to your room, flabbergasted and defeated. Luffy is still in your chair, letting out wails of “pain” which you are now realizing are just fucking moans. Not to say that he isn’t in pain but… if the placement of his hand is any evidence right now, he’s feeling pretty good.
“Y-you’re back,” Luffy gasps as he grinds his palm on his erection for what is probably the 50th time.
“Fuck, Luffy. What did you get yourself into tonight? You can be such a bonehead. Goddamn.” Your hands are on your hips and you’re looking at him, weighing your options. You could kick him back to his room and tell him to masturbate.
He looks downright pathetic. His face is twisted up in agony and his hand is putting in work. “T-touch me,” he whines. “P-please.”
“Luffy, are you sure?” You walk over to him and place a hand on his cheek in pity.
He opens his eyes and weakly croaks out, “Not there. Lower.”
You tut and frown. “Ohhh Luffy. What am I going to do with you?”
He tries to give you puppy dog eyes and fails. Another erotic sound escapes his lips as his palm grinds on his cock particularly hard. He whispers, one last beg before he’ll do all the work himself. “Please.”
You cautiously reach your hand down and place it on his erection. Luffy throws his head back, hissing in air through his teeth, and fidgets under you.
“Fuck, that feels weird. Feels tingly, like—like it’s on fire,” he whines.
He grasps your wrist and makes you rub his cock harder, widening his thighs. His grip is so tight that it hurts. He’s forcing your palm down on his cock so hard that you can’t believe it isn’t hurting him.
Luffy’s eyes are closed and he’s actually drooling. He’s still shivering, and his cheeks are crimson. Sweat plasters his hair down on his forehead and temples.
The obscene sounds leaving his lips make you hotter between your legs—you squeeze your thighs together in an attempt to mitigate the rising heat, but Luffy’s desperation is making it worse. He’s starting to rut his cock up into your hand.
“Ah, that feels—feels so hot and—fuck—feels funny, like it, it feels good.” You can feel his cock twitching under your fingers. He’s writhing around and whimpering, and fuck, he looks good. “Need more.”
“Y-you need more?” You ask hesitantly.
“C’mere.” Luffy grabs you by your waist and effortlessly lifts you up, guiding you to straddle his lap. You freeze up. There’s no way this is really happening.
“Mmmmmm, fuck.” He murmurs in your ear and his hips buck up, cock craving friction through the layer of his pants and yours.
“W-want you to rub on me,” his voice is wretched and depraved. “Feels good.” When you lock eyes, you can see animalistic desire plainly. You’ve never seen him look like this—it’s like he’s a different person; lust is completely driving his movements. It’s like primal instincts took over the second the aphrodisiac cookies went to his stomach.
Luffy dry humps you and it’s starting to feel good. His hands are gripping your hips and he’s doing all the work, dragging you over his cock, pushing you down on it and making your hips roll while needy noises trickle from his parted lips.
As friction builds on your clit, you stifle a moan that threatens to jump out of your mouth. Luffy’s so aroused that he’s panting and slobbering down his chin.
It’s like he’s in heat, the way he humps and grinds on you. Seeing him like this is making you wetter. Your panties must be saturated by now—the friction is already making you buzz, and he hasn’t done much other than rub you on his cock a bit.
“It’s helping,” the words fall carelessly from Luffy’s mouth. He has no clue what’s going on. He’s on autopilot right now, lost in lust and barely cognizant. “Wanna be warmer, ‘m still so—so cold.” His teeth are chattering amidst his moans. Considering how hot his cheek was, he must really be freezing.
Luffy’s hands wander to grip your chest through your tank top so hard you let out a yelp. He pulls it down and starts to greedily squeeze and knead your breasts. Your breath hitches when his fingerpads move back and forth on your already stiff and sensitive nipples.
When he leans forward and wraps his lips around one, you let out a gasp. His tongue swirls around your bundle of nerves and he starts to suck on it hungrily. Luffy is making you wet beyond belief—the suction on your nipple is feeling dangerously good. You’re on the verge of losing it, totally giving in to the nagging animalistic voice in your head that’s telling you to fuck him like crazy.
His erection is huge and hard as it grinds on your core. It feels good—no, he feels good. The noises he’s letting out add to the effect. Your core is throbbing and sopping wet.
“L-luffy,” you moan, finally, as he grazes your clit and sucks your nipple particularly hard. He lets out a muffled hum in response, vibrating your nipple. “Luffy, if you keep doing that, I’m gonna cum.”
He goes faster. He thinks that if he sees your face contort in bliss and hears you moan some more, it’ll fix him. He’s starting to feel better already with each hump. Maybe if he sees you cum, he’ll stop pulsing and his body will stop screaming at him. Maybe if you cum from his dry humps, he’ll be satiated. Maybe his fever will go away.
Luffy can hardly form cognizant, coherent thoughts like this, though. His mind can only focus on two things. First: you. Your pleasure. Your cunt. Your tits. Your smell. He wants to devour you. Second: he’s freezing cold. He needs warmth—twenty blankets, a cup of hot tea, a heating pad, something. He feels like he’s in a vat of ice water.
“Can’t stop,” he chokes his words out with effort, somehow picking up the pace of his cock humping your cunt through your pants. “Need more.”
He grinds your clit just right and it sends you over the edge of orgasm. As you spasm over his clothed cock and soak your panties in ecstasy, he never once lets up the pace. He pushes you back and forth on his erection and doesn’t pay attention to your whimpers from overstimulation.
You collapse forward into him, resting your head in the crook of his neck while he uses his grip on your hips for leverage to rut harder into you.
“Wanna put it in,” Luffy groans and his voice is deeper than usual. “L-lemme put it in. Wanna feel you. Need it. N-need you to—to help me feel better.”
You whisper a hum of affirmation in his ear and he picks you up. Fuck it. He already made you cum. He’s begging for it. You decide to let him ravage you.
Luffy basically throws you on the bed and rips your clothes off. You realize that the door to your cabin is wide open—anyone could walk by and see this. You don’t have the willpower to care right now.
You’re lying on the bed, looking up at the ceiling. Luffy grabs your wrists and holds them over your head with one hand, pinning you down on the bed. His other hand steadies his cock flat on your inflamed, wet folds. He starts to thrust forward a bit, rubbing himself on your cunt, teasing himself before he finally fucks away the ice-cold blood in his veins and stokes that roaring heat his belly.
His cock gliding over your clit feels too good. If he keeps it up, you’ll cum a second time. “Luffy, fuck,” your whimper makes his heart pound. Reality fogs up more and he can’t think straight. He rubs his cock flat on your lips until you’re arching your back, then lines his tip up with your weeping entrance.
When Luffy pushes his cock into your slit slowly, he groans the whole time. “So fuckin’ tight, ‘s like you’re swallowing me whole, fuck. Y-you’re so warm, feels good.”
He’s shaking and shivering still. After a moment of being bottomed out, he starts to fuck you at a measured pace. He’s entranced by the way your tits bounce. He’s still drooling shamelessly, his pupils are blown with lust and he’s sweating. His free hand gropes up for your tits and plays with your nipples. Every time you moan his name, he feels like he’s an animal.
“Nnnnggghhhh, fuck, fuck, you’re—you feel so slippery,” Luffy feverishly grinds his hips into yours, hitting your deep and sensitive spots just right. “Feels weird and hot in my stomach, like s-something’s gonna happen.”
“Luffy, it feels too good,” you keen his name and squirm. “’m gonna cum soon.”
“W-wanna see,” he chokes out an answer between breathless thrusts.
He brushes your hot and soft spot, and you once again are drowning in pleasure, toe-curling and delicious. You cum, squeezing his shaft and milking out as much precum as possible.
He sounds like he’s hyperventilating. He’s truly going crazy. He keeps fucking you through your orgasm and you start to squirm. The sight goads him on.
“More,” he groans. “Please, more.”
Luffy rocks his pelvis into yours. His abs and arms are muscly and defined, his hair is sweaty, his eyes are totally dilated, and he’s looking at you like he’s going to fuck you for hours.
When he feels your walls clench down on him, he starts to cum. He seizes up and his cock plunges into your cunt. “F-fuck, fuck, I’m gonna—I’m cumming, it—feels too good, feels so good, fuck.”
His thrusts are erratic while he pumps ropes of cum into you. He pauses and looks down at your cock-crazed face, closed eyes, and slack jaw. His cum is currently seeping out of your slit, coating the base of his shaft.
But even though he just came, his cock is already starting to pulse again. That one orgasm? It isn’t enough. Not nearly enough.
He feels better than he did before, but still not back to normal. The fire and ice in his veins still runs strong, he feels like he's buzzing, like he’s an animal looking for a mate.
You think that he’s had his fill until he starts thrusting again, just as hard as before. After a minute, he shifts you. Luffy pulls out and picks you up again, maneuvering you so you’re laying on your bed with your stomach touching the covers. He gets on top of you and—fuck, he’s heavy. And his skin is boiling hot. You can feel the sheen of sweat on his chest when it presses on your back.
He has you in prone bone now, spreading your thighs wide with one of his hands. When he finally presses his cock into you, your back arches. It feels much deeper than before—is he using his devil fruit powers, or is his cock just this big?
“Fuck,” he’s rasping in your ear. His husky voice goes straight to your throbbing core—god, he sounds hot right now. You can feel his hot breath. One of his hands is braced next to your head as his cock rolls into you. He’s hitting the perfect spot and it’s starting to feel so good that you’re seeing stars. “Your pussy—feels so, so warm and good, I think it’s working.”
You lose track of time while his cock caresses your sweet spots. Before you know it, you’re cumming again. You hardly have the energy to let him know what’s happening. Is it the aphrodisiacs making his performance this good, or does Luffy just know how to fuck? How is he this good in bed?
When you squirm and cream on Luffy’s cock for the second time, he reaches a hand under you and thumbs your clit. He draws circles on it and presses it like a button. It feels like an electric shock—he has neglected it until now but still managed to coax three orgasms out of you. And while you are mildly overstimulated, when his fingers start dancing over your clit it turns up the notch of pleasure inside of you.
“Luffy, fuck that feels good,” a sort of guttural moan escapes your lips and you can’t help but buck your hips up and back onto his cock. “Don’t stop. Fuck.”
You’re keening through the waves of pleasure that he’s pulling out from you while he rams you with his cock. His heavy grunts are like music in your ears—feral, low, and ravenous. Your captain is absolutely railing you right now, and you like it. He more than likes it.
“So tight and, ah, so warm inside, like—aaghhhh fuck—like you’re made for me.” He groans and his thighs shudder. Is he cumming again? How many times is this? Second? Third?
Your mind is in a haze. He’s devouring you like a rabid animal. How many orgasms will it take to fend off his fever? How many hours until the aphrodisiac cookies wear off?
In your haze, filth starts to slip out of your mouth.
“F-fuck me harder, captain—please,” you mewl, and you can feel just the slightest pause in Luffy’s thrusts, barely noticeable. “Your cock feels so fucking good.”
After his pause, he starts pressing his weight harder on top of you, moving his hips at an angle so his cock is literally ramming into your cervix. The sensation is overwhelming, to say the least—painful but so, so good. You’re gasping for air and it’s hard to breathe because he’s on top of you. He’s literally fucking you like he’s in heat.
“Say that again,” he grunts and thrusts with each word but he’s struggling to get them out because he’s barely breathing. “Say it.”
“Captain, fuck, y-your cock feels so good. Fuck, captain.”
He’s somehow going faster, bringing you to another cliff, another ledge of euphoria from which to free fall. His cock bullies your bundles of nerves and your cunt squelches with each pass.
“C-captain, Luffy, please, fuck.” You’re spasming under him again, cumming on his cock for, what was that, the fourth time? Maybe it was the fifth. You’ve lost count. You didn’t know it was possible to cum this many times. You’ve also lost track of what words are coming out of your mouth. “Cumming, I’m cumming, y-your cock ‘s too good, captain, fuck, fuck, fuck.”
He’s right after you, jerking his hips deep into yours and cumming inside again. There’s so much cum leaking out of you that Luffy’s shaft is obscured by milky white goop. There’s a sizable puddle of it underneath of you. It’s going to leave an unfortunate-colored stain on your bedsheets. You’ll cross that bridge when you get to it.
His hips are still bucking though. His cum just keeps… coming. It’s a visceral orgasm. It’s the final orgasm (for a brief refractory period). When he’s done shooting seed into you, he collapses on top of you.
It’s like you’re under a weighted blanket except its Luffy, he’s heavy as fuck, and his cock is in you. And damn, he’s sweaty.
But somehow this is the best sex you’ve ever had. And you have a sneaking suspicion that the night isn’t over yet.
When you protest and Luffy rolls off your back, you use all your strength to open your eyes and check on him. His chest rises and falls at a rapid pace, his eyes are closed, he’s still drooling but he looks decidedly better.
You bring a hand to touch his forehead again and he lets out another quiet whimper. He must be so sensitive still. Poor thing. But his fever is considerably better.
Sanji must have been right when he said there’s only one way to fix this aphrodisiac frenzy. You wonder what Sanji was saving those cookies for. The day you finally crawled into bed with him?
Pfffft. No, thank you. After round six or seven with Luffy, you’ll never look back. You truly didn’t expect your captain to fuck like this. Or to like being called captain when his cock is in you.
“Luffy, are you doing ok?”
He hums in response.
“Use your words. Luffy, are you doing okay?”
“Yeah. Feels a lot better.”
When his chest slows, he starts to sleep. You’re left on your bed with a puddle of cum under (and inside) of you, and your captain sound asleep like a rock next to you. And fuck, the door is still open.
Hopefully no one heard that. Even if they had heard, oh well. Too late now to stress over it.
You close the door and turn off the light. Then, you get cleaned up and put your pajamas back on.
Luffy may be sound asleep, but you shove him around so he’s at a decent angle. You fall asleep together on your bed, cuddling, and sticky with sweat (and cum).
Of course, no more than two hours later, Luffy is awake and his cock is throbbing again. He tries to touch himself and make the heat go away but it isn’t working. So… he wakes you up. And that’s how rounds eight, nine, and ten go.
When his fever finally goes away, he’s left with a long-lasting craving that he can only satiate one way: you.
It should go without saying, but the next day you literally cannot walk. You hobble around, trying to play it off like you slept weird or something. Sanji rubs the whole thing in your face.
“How was last night, angel?” His smirk is sly and smug, teasing and suggestive.
“Sanji. Please. Not right now.”
“Do you want me to get more of those cookies sometime? Maybe we can eat them next?” He winks and you blush.
“Fuck off, Sanji.”
The chef chuckles and saunters away. He’s never going to let you live that down.
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thank you for reading!!! ive been feeling a certain way about luffy recently. its just his fucking muscles in wano that have me in a chokehold. muscle make brain go brrrrrrrrr.
here's my masterlist and my posting schedule for october!
i'm posting every day from now until halloween!
finally, trick or treat? (tumblr links)
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yougavememyopia · 12 days ago
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Tags: Manipulative masochistic yandere, mean annoyed reader, stalking, cursing, hair pulling, choking, name-calling
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"Hellooo~? There you are. I've been looking all over for you. Where have you been? Don't tell me you're avoiding me..." Your stalker whined in that annoying tone, making you roll your eyes almost instinctively. "Because I'll be really, really sad."
You shifted on the grass you were sitting on, debating on whether to stay or flee. It didn't matter. He would follow you around until you gave in and talked to him.
He sat beside you, too close for comfort. You finally looked at him as he made a small whimpering noise. You knew that indicated him crying crocodile tears if you continued your negligence. "You're driving me insane with your bullshit."
"Aww, are you getting tired of little ol' me?" He smirked. He knew you hated when he acted all cocky, so he decided to pout instead. Looking up at you with a soft, innocent look. "But... but I've done so much for your attention. Look, I even wore this pretty sweater for you."
"I don't give a shit. It's not going to change my view of you. You're a fucking nutcase. It doesn't matter what you do, I'm still gonna reject you."
His face fell. A blank look on his face. It was always scary when he showed no emotion. Like you were getting a glimpse of his true self. You shifted your gaze away, unable to control the shivers you got. Were you too harsh? He always acted so fake. You could never tell what he actually thought.
"You say that, but you'll miss me. I'm the most interesting person around!" His cute smile returned. He clasped his hands together and brought it up to his cheek. "You won't admit it because of your big ego. But I know. Under your cold exterior, there's a softie."
"If I want you around, it's not because of that. It's because of your psychological manipulation, dumbass. The love bombing? Ring a bell?"
"Ah, so you admit it! You do care about me! You want me around. I'm your favorite, right~?" He leaned his cheek into his hand. Batting his eyelashes at you to drive you more crazy. "Might as well go ahead and accept me. I'm not going anywhere. You're not going anywhere. It's meant to be!"
"Ughhh, fuck!" You cursed, slapping your forhead. He did this often; twisting your words into something totally different. "Every single fucking day. It's the same thing. You and your delusions. You won't accept my rejections."
"Then we'd never be together." He commented. He furrowed his eyebrows to show confusion, putting his hands on his lap. "We've come so far already. And I know one day, we'll finally be together! Who knows, maybe today is the day."
His head tilted, and he smiled brightly at you. The gesture making your blood boil. He knew how to act right, to seem more attractive to you. His practiced smile and the quiet mumbled voice drew you in. The weirdly submissive side of him appealed to you. As if he was waiting for you to finally take control of him.
Despite all that, you couldn't look past the creepy things he has done. There were the "coincidental" meetings he admitted to being stalking, stating how he couldn't be apart from you for so long or how he was bored without you. The small souvenirs that he collected, like your hairclip, to put on his hair, or even the bigger items that he took, like your hoodie, to wear and show how he was yours. He tried to isolate you as much as he could. Sticking close to you wherever you went. Finding sneaky ways to get rid of other people around you. His unhealthy obsession was slowly ruining your life.
You've gotten used to it all. Not fazed if he did something stupid for your attention. He tricked you into going on dates with him so many times. You were practically dating. It was hard to admit it to yourself, but you had a soft spot for him. For some weird reason, you enjoyed his company. You enjoyed playing with him. He was entertaining. Interesting.
He suddenly crawled behind you, his hands grasping your shoulders. "You're so tense." He leaned in to your ear and whispered. "You've been on edge for a few days now. Do I really scare you that much?"
You scoffed. "What do you think?"
"Please, I'm harmless! I should help you relax. Treat you to a nice massage." He began to rub your shoulders and slowly moved closer to your neck. His hands worked skillfully to press against your tensed muscles. Drawing circles and kneading your flesh. "Maybe more physical intimacy will help. Something different, perhaps?"
He took advantage of your lack of fight and relaxed state. Throwing his arms around your waist, hugging you from behind. His face nuzzled against the crook of your neck as he inhaled and breathed out a sigh. "I love your smell. I gotta buy your perfume. Well, I have your clothes, so it's kinda the same thing. I never get tired of smelling you~"
"Seriously?" You mumbled. Your skin pickled from his warm breath. The feeling of him sniffing you with his nose brushing against your sensitive skin gave you small shivers. His grip on you grew tighter as you tried to move. His grasp on you almost suffocating. You kick the grass in exasperation. "Augh... Fuck you."
"Is that a promise~?" He giggled and rubbed his nose against your neck more deliberately. "I love the way you talk to me. Always so aggressive. So passionate~ You only act this way towards me. Like I'm special to you."
"Haah..." You clenched the grass beside you. Fingers poked with their pointy heads while you hold onto your anger. "You always do what you want. I never gave you permission to hug me."
"You need it. It'll calm you down. Take away all that stress. And! And.. I give the best hugs ever." He squeezed you tight against his chest. "But if that's not working, I can always try something else. Something that feels even better."
Before you could protest, he began to kiss your neck. Placing long, soft kisses against your skin. Finding the right spots that made you shudder. "Ah...! Hey-?!?"
You struggled against him, but he was determined. Weirdly strong for his short stature. His hands pulled your shirt lower so he could have more access. Kissing along your neck to your shoulder. His tongue joined in between the pecks. It brushed over your skin, coating everywhere with saliva. He lapped at your skin, drawing a line from the bottom of your neck all the way up. Goosebumps covered your body. Your cursing and protests still being ignored.
You reached a hand up to his hair, pulling it, trying to get him to stop. "You're crazy! Let me go."
"Nngh!" He moaned out. You couldn't win with him. Anything you did, he loved. Treating him like garbage or ignoring him completely. He was utterly devoted to you. "Oh, that felt good. Do it again. But harder. Pretty please~"
"Fucking masochist. How did I end up with someone so messed up?" You tugged his hair again, more firmer this time, making him moan louder. He started doing different things to your neck, sucking and nibbling on the skin. You couldn't control the small grunting noises from spilling. "I swear, if you leave a mark, I'll choke you to death-!"
He seemed to like the threat. His movements becoming frantic. He was definitely leaving a mark. Just to despite you. "Mmh~ Feels good..." His hands started to rub under your shirt. His nails digging into your skin.
He panted against your neck as you stopped. You rubbed his scalp instead, enjoying the feeling of his soft, well-cared hair between your fingers. He nuzzled against you, hugging you loosely. "Ahh... You didn't struggle as much as I thought. Did I change your mind? Do you believe me now when I say that I won't ever leave? Oh, that reminds me. I think it's about time I move in with you."
"What the fuck are you going on about?" You sighed in annoyance.
"Oh, come on! I've been waiting forever. I'm moving my stuff in first thing in the morning."
You pushed him away with force. Pinning his shoulders to the ground and climbing on top of him. "You're makin' me really angry. I don't want you around. Why can't you get that through your thick skull?"
He chuckled, looking up at you. "I'm not giving up on us. Ever. You're stuck with me whether you like it or not. Plus, you've got nobody else to turn to, remember?"
"Ughh." Your hands close around his throat with force. "You act this way to provoke me. You enjoy this. Do you get off when I do these things to you? Hm? Is this what you want? I can't believe I actually fell for you. Good-for-nothing stalker."
He arched his back and closed his eyes, humming slightly. He was enjoying every second of this. You tightened your grip. The lack of oxygen making him squirm underneath you. His hands grabbed your knees. He just had to touch you in some way. Always clinging to you.
"I wanna do something that'll make you speechless for once. You're always doing unexpected things to me. Well, how about this?" You leaned down and kissed him. Pushing him further down and roughly shoving your tongue past his lips. This wasn't your first kiss. He frequently planted small pecks on your cheeks and "accidentally" on your mouth. Though, after the second time, it was obvious he was doing it on purpose.
He groaned softly, relaxing and allowing you to do whatever you wanted with him. He always emphasized how he was yours to use. You pulled away to look at the smirk on his face, your hands cupping his cheek. "Don't look so happy. This doesn't mean I'm accepting you. You're not moving in."
"We'll see about that. I bet I can change your mind." He commented, leaning his cheek to your hands and chuckling. "I have a few compelling arguments. I can cook. I can clean. I can do anything you want me to. So, won't you please reconsider? Pretty please?"
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moonstruckme · 6 months ago
Note
rooomate james. 😭😭 literally obsessed w himm!!
Me too I love him (and you!) sm <3
part 1 │ part 2 │ part 3 │ part 4 │part 5 │ part 6 │ part 7 │ part 8 │ part 9 │ part 10 │ part 11 │ part 12 │ part 13
roommate!James x shy!reader ♡ 808 words
You don’t recognize James’ car until he shouts at you. 
“Hey!” 
You give a little jump, turning midair to find James smiling out the rolled-down window. 
“Want a lift?” 
“God, you scared me!” You backtrack and open the passenger door. The seat looks to have been tidied in a hurry, receipts and takeaway containers tossed into the backseat. “How’d you even know I’d need a ride?” 
James refrains from responding to give you an expectant look. You roll your eyes and buckle your seatbelt. Satisfied, he puts the car in reverse, setting his hand on your seat to look behind him as he backs out of the parking spot. 
“You weren’t home when I got there,” he says, “and then I remembered on Sundays you usually get off at eleven, so here I am. Is Art not with you?” 
“No, he wasn’t working tonight.” 
James doesn’t seem too disappointed by this. He pulls onto the street. You watch him, looking almost unconsciously for signs of wear and tear. 
Now that rugby season is in full swing, he’s gone not just during the day for training but sometimes overnight for away games. You’ve been alone in your apartment for the whole weekend while he played in London and then Bristol. It was weird. You think you’ve accidentally grown used to having James around. You don’t fancy yourself a very tactile person, and the urge to hug him isn’t terribly strong, but it’s there. 
“How was work?” he asks you. 
“It was fine. How were your matches?” 
“They were fine,” he imitates you, grinning. “No, it’s like I said. Winning the second one’s always better than winning the first and losing the second. It’s nice to end on a good note.”
He’d texted continual updates while he was gone. You sat on your couch, pretending to yourself or perhaps to some invisible, judgemental observer that you were watching TV when really you were entirely focused on James’ texts. You imagined him sitting in his hotel room doing the same, or maybe in a pub with his teammates, smiling at his phone each time you responded. 
Your imagination has become terribly overindulgent lately. 
“Honestly, I was pretty disappointed you weren’t home when I got there,” James says, a familiar teasing lilt to his voice. “I was hoping to come in and catch you wearing one of my jumpers and staring tearily at a framed photo of me.” 
You roll your eyes, but your face burns. You did use his shampoo, once. In your defense, you’d run out of yours, but you thought that it wouldn’t be so bad to smell like him, nice and fresh and comforting. It had foamed more than you expected. It did smell really nice, but it made your hair feel dry (boy shampoo always does that, you’ve no idea how James’ curls seem to thrive under such poor treatment) and you felt silly about it for days, lovesick in the most derogatory sense. 
Didn’t stop you from sniffing your hair occasionally, though. 
“You weren’t gone to war,” you reply. “And where would I get a framed photo of you?” 
James looks affronted. “I assumed you already had one. How did you get through the weekend without even a photo? You brave, brave girl.” 
“I actually threw a rager,” you deadpan. “Rented out your room to six people traveling through with the carnival and let them invite over all their friends. Did loads of hard drugs.” 
“Well, we all have different ways of coping.” He reaches over to squeeze your shoulder consolingly. You pretend goosebumps don’t skitter all the way down your arm from the brief touch. “And what a marvelous job you’ve done covering up your escapades!” He exclaims as you pull up in front of the apartment. “I haven’t come across the cocaine dust on our bathroom counter yet, so you must have really done a thorough cleanup.” 
“Keep looking, it’s around there somewhere.” 
James laughs. You’re slower getting out of the car than he is, and by the time you emerge he’s in front of you, pulling you into a hug. You think your bones liquefy. He’s warm and strong and he smells like his shampoo, both arms squishing you heartily before he lets go with a little laugh. 
“Sorry,” he says, bringing his hands to your upper arms, “I didn’t even ask. I just missed you, you know?” James has this look on his face, smile brilliant and eyes wide open. So saccharine sweet you almost can’t look at him. “Guess I got used to having you around.” 
You do your best to smile back. “Yeah, me too.” 
He squeezes your arms before turning to go inside. “You smell like Italian food, too. I don’t suppose you’ve cooked anything recently that’s still in the fridge? I’m beginning to think about second dinner.” 
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luveline · 10 months ago
Note
Bombshell reader and Spencer finding out she’s pregnant
fem!reader, 1.5k
cw for pregnancy / reader wants to be pregnant
“This is such a peculiar feeling.” 
Spencer’s ready for you physically before his mind has caught up, his hand reaching out for you despite his eyes steadfast on the book he has held to his knee. Legs crossed, relaxing in the supple leather of one of his armchairs, Spencer almost forgot you were here. “What?” he asks. 
“What did I say, or what’s peculiar?” 
“What’s peculiar?” he asks, letting the book fall down the side of his thigh. 
You shuffle closer to his legs, looking down at your clasped hands. “I feel really weird. For a few days. A bit sick, I think.” 
He’s not expecting you to say that; it’s been such a quiet evening, and you haven’t mentioned being ill once yet, despite having slept here and spent the day here in your soft pyjamas. “What’s wrong?” he asks. 
Because the thing is, Spencer loves you more than he’s ever loved anybody. It’s immediately unnerving for him to hear you aren’t well, because he doesn't want you to have a single shred of strife in your life, not even a papercut. He pulls you closer and closer, looking up into your face, begging to know what’s wrong and unashamed or caring so much. “You’re worrying me,” he prods when you don’t answer. 
“Sorry, I’m just…” You lean forward gently. Spencer takes your weight to his side, his cheek to your chest. You face down, wrapping an arm behind his shoulder. “Just have a funny feeling,” you whisper. 
“What kind of feeling?” he asks. Spencer could tell you a hundred different facts on funny feelings, gut feelings, and intuition, but that’s not strictly helpful right now. Then again, he knows he’s loved, and so he says the most burning one aloud before he forgets, “Intuition is based on the collating of facts by your brain to predict future events. It’s usually unconscious.” 
You touch his hair mindlessly. “Is it usually right?” 
“I think that’s up to opinion. Why, angel?” he asks, letting his voice slip into a deeper, settled rasp. He hopes it says what he’s trying to prove to you every single day, that he will take care of you for as long as you’ll let him. “What are you thinking is wrong?” 
“I don’t know if it’s wrong…” 
He’s so confused. “You can tell me anything,” he assures you, pulling at your hands. There’s room in the armchair for you so long as you’re okay with putting your legs over his, and you are, curling up next to him with your bottom lip pulled between your teeth. 
“I know, Spencer. Just let me think about it for a minute.” 
“Okay.” He takes your hand once again. For a few minutes he waits in the quiet, rubbing small circles into the back of your hand, trying hard not to look at you lest you feel pressured to talk. 
“Okay,” you say quietly, “I have a few things in that bag I brought over for emergencies, you know? In the bathroom. And I have a pregnancy test in there, so I’m going to take it. How do you… how would you feel about that?” 
“I’d feel whatever you needed me to,” he says instinctively, the word pregnancy on a flashing look in his mind’s eye. “You think you might be pregnant?” 
“Before I take it, before, is that a bad thing if I am?” 
He’s shocked to see you acting this way, so far from your regularly scheduled programming. Spencer always assumed that if you ever did become pregnant, he’d learn about it like everybody else. You’d tell him with a big smile or a proud kiss and go about your day. You know what you're worth, and to be pregnant is your decision, your body. 
“Of course not,” he says, frowning. 
“Are you sure?” 
“Why are you asking me?” 
“Because it’s something that would affect both of us?” 
“No, of course, of course, angel, I just mean, why would it ever be a bad thing?” He puts his hand on your neck. “Unless you think it is.” 
“This isn’t something I get to just decide by myself, this decision. I can’t make it alone,” you say. 
“Yes you can.” He cups your neck. “But I’d love to make it with you.” 
You smile. He can tell you’re going to share your thoughts with him before you do, your eyes clearing with worry for now, and instead shining with your usual, breath-stealing light. “I hope I am,” you say. 
He hadn’t known he’d feel this way until right this second. “I hope you are too.” 
Your giggle sounds ever so slightly teary and hug him. You kiss his neck, and then you spring out of his lap to drag him with you to the bathroom. It’s a straightforward process but the waiting is agony, you and him sitting on the counter by the sink basin, hands squeezing at each other's fingers with the test baking on his thigh. 
“This is crazy,” you murmur. “We were having a normal day.” 
“Normal to amazing would be good,” he says. 
“What are we gonna do?” 
“Well, I’ll have to make some more money.” 
“I’m serious.” 
“So am I,” he says with a laugh. “Do you know how expensive children are?” 
“How did your mom afford you and your three PhDs?” 
“I got most of that stuff for free,” he says, “on account of being smart for my age.” 
You laugh softly. “That’s one way to say it.” 
Spencer leans down to kiss your shoulder. “We’ll have to move in together. Like, forever.” 
“Oh no.” You prop your head on his. “I basically live here anyways. All the time.” 
We’ll have to get married, Spencer thinks, but that’s not necessarily true, and then thinks it should probably be a surprise, before he says, “And I’ll have to ask you to marry me.” 
“Not just because I’m–”
“No, not just because you’re pregnant,” he says, though neither of you know yet if that’s true. “Never.” 
“That would be admirable.” 
He doesn’t know about that, but he knows one thing. “I love you. Really. More than anything.” 
“Don’t worry, Spencer. I love you too.” 
“Would that be something you wanted?” he asks quietly. 
“I’ll say yes whenever you want to ask me,” you say, equally as quiet. “I would’ve said yes five years ago.” You weren’t together five years ago, and he believes it anyways.
Spencer kisses up your cheek and pulls you into his side with a last press of his lips to your temple. The test on his thigh hasn’t changed. It’s a digital one, so you’ll know for sure just as soon as it’s ready. He feels like he can’t breathe right, waiting, waiting, wishing. 
“I’m with you no matter what,” he says under his breath. 
“I know.” You turn your lips into his cheek, breath fanning his skin. “You know pregnancy makes a woman more beautiful, right?” 
“I don’t see how that could possibly happen to you, but I’m excited nonetheless.” 
You laugh and smile into his cheek, kissing the slight hollow of it tenderly. 
On your thigh, the test blinks to Pregnant. 
You don’t notice, too busy kissing him still, your smile hard to ignore as you mumble, “If I’m pregnant, and we’re gonna do all those things you said before, I promise I’ll make you happy, Spence. I’m gonna be good to you. We’re going to be so, so happy, we’re gonna have a house with a garden and a hundred types of flowers, and we’ll keep bees at the end of it, and we’ll have two libraries for all your books, three if you want it, and–”
“I’ll make you happy,” he echoes, “I promise. I’m gonna take care of everything.” 
“–the nursery…” You stop kissing him, hearing what it is he hasn’t managed to say in the wavering tone of his voice. You look down as he passes you the test. 
“No matter what you want,” he swears. 
Your happy tears are plentiful and not what he’s expecting. You wrap your arms around his neck and cry with your legs hanging off of the counter, the test digging into his shoulder, drawing a line over his skin as you check it to be sure and prompt another round of tears. They aren’t loud tears. Your sniffles are half giggle. 
“We never do things in the right order,” you say, blissfully happy. 
“I don’t think there’s a wrong one.” His turn now to press kisses to your tacky cheek.
“We used to hold hands under the round table.” You shudder with tears. 
Lovelorn and unsure, not even dating, your fingers sewn together under the conference table as someone spoke you through the case of the day. His heart in his throat, and your thumb rubbing circles so slowly into his skin his wrist would ache for hours afterwards remembering. You and Spencer have always done things in your own order, and he’d never say wrong. 
2K notes · View notes
whitexwolfxx310 · 7 months ago
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|| Baby Mine ||
Pairing: Bucky x female reader || Bucky x y/n
Summary: Bucky comes home from from a mission and finds you sick. You make an appointment at the medical bay expecting a routine visit only to find out some pretty surprising news.
Warnings: Unplanned pregnancy, minor talk of options pertaining to, morning sickness, a disgusting amount of fluff, and a small sprinkle of spice at the end just because I felt like it.
Word Count: 3323
A/Ns: First and foremost, I would like to apologize for my hiatus. It was not intended and I hit a writers block. With that being said, I do have a decent amount in my drafts and have been working on getting some new things out there!
I would like to say a special thank you to @lil-darhk who gave me some encouraging words that I really needed to hear & helped get me back on here. ♥️
This is a ONE SHOT. This is not part of my BBWWS. I am still working on that but this is something I have been thinking of for a while and just felt like writing about. I know that a pregnancy troupe is not for everyone. (Personally, I love it and I'm not sure if I will write it into my other storyline.) SO because of that....I give you this. I hope you all enjoy it because the idea of Daddy Bucky to me is just 🤌🏻💋
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Waking up to the smell of fresh ground coffee was always a tall tale sign of Bucky being home. Missions can be unpredictable. He can be gone for a few days, to a few weeks, and sometimes even months at a time. Luckily, this time he had only been gone about a month and a half.
Excitement took over as you forego your usual procrastinating in bed stretch to run out of the bedroom. Opening the door, the aroma was heavenly- as if a coffee shop had replaced your kitchen overnight. But your eyes immediately fixed on Bucky who was wearing a smirk while plating two separate stacks of pancakes.
“Breakfast, doll?” His voice as smooth as the warm syrup flowing down from those pancake stacks.
Running and jumping to wrap your arms around his neck was your response. Bucky chuckled, holding both arms out wider so he didn’t drop the plates. He put them down gently onto the counter so that his arms would now be only consumed with you.
“I missed you too.” You don’t have to look up from being buried in his chest to know that he’s smiling, it’s in the lighthearted tone of his voice.
Leaning back slightly with his arms still holding you, he looks into your eyes and plants a petal soft kiss on your lips.
“How come you didn’t wake me up when you got in?” You frown slightly looking up at him.
He shakes his head slightly and shrugs, “You just looked so… peaceful. I couldn’t bare to wake you up. At least, not without sustenance,” Bucky laughs.
Shifting your eyes from Bucky to the pancakes and back, your lips tug in each corner. “Smart man.”
His cooking always felt like home. It was filling, delicious, and you could almost taste the love it was made it with. “Mm,” the small noise escapes low in your throat as you take the last bite. Looking across the kitchen table, Bucky is slumped in his chair, arms folded with a warm smile as he watches you. “What?” The question comes out as a half joke and half concern.
Shaking his head slightly the smile grew. “Nothing, doll. Just missed you is all.” Leaning forward, Bucky rests his elbows on the table continuing to stare a tad bit more than normal.
“You’re acting weird.” You say, adjusting in your seat feeling slightly awkward.
“So what have you been up to while I was away?” He completely ignored your statement, asking an easy and lighthearted question.
“Um..” you start, breakfast starting to feel suddenly heavy in your stomach. “I uh-“ your teeth start to clench down as you swallow hard at the pooling saliva in your mouth. “I went out with Nat-“ your brows furrowed, starting to have difficulty with getting the words out. Bucky’s face quickly contorts to concern as you continue to fight the inevitable. “and her sister for some…s-some drinks-“ the word makes you gag.
Almost as if you channeled some super soldier serum, you pushed back from the table and ran- praying that the pressure of your hand over your mouth will be enough insurance to get to the toilet. It barely was. Breakfast came back up violently, loudly as you kneeled in front of the porcelain king. Even when you thought there couldn’t possibly be anything else to throw up, your stomach wrung on itself, forcing up every last drop of bile.
Breathing heavily into the bowl, skin now glistening with cooling sweat, you realize that your hair has been pulled out of your face. Your eyesight, now no longer blurry, sees Bucky sitting next to you; his right hand holding your hair back in a make shift ponytail and his left hand on the nape of your neck, the coolness of his metal hand being your favorite thing in the world at the moment.
“I’m sorry…” your sob echoed lightly in the toilet. “I’ve never been hung over like this before,” you sit back on your knees, grabbing some tissues to wipe your mouth. You bring yourself to look up at him through hooded and puffy red eyes, feeling instantly embarrassed. Bucky gives you a small reassuring smile as his hand gently rubs up and down your back.
“I’ve had the Russians drink me under the table a few times too. C’mon…” He helps you off of the floor, “let’s get you cleaned up.”
A warm bath, some fresh comfy clothes and a plain cup of tea seemed to make the nausea subside.
“I knew I shouldn’t have drank last night,” you say, looking into the lightly steaming mug. “My stomach hasn’t felt right in a few weeks. I actually have an appointment this afternoon in the medical bay, but I didn’t know you would be home. I can cancel it-”
“What time is your appointment?” He cuts you off,
“Um,” you look towards the wall and squint at the clock. “Actually in 45 minutes,” you laugh softly at the realization.
“Do you want me to go with you?” He offers.
“And miss your debriefing? Why, Sargent Barnes, that’s highly unlike you.” Even with not feeling great you can’t help but give him shit. This is the normal
Shaking his head softly he lets out a small laugh. “Alright,” he puts his hands up in a surrendering gesture, “but call me if anything comes up, okay? I’m worried about you.” Bucky’s voice is soft and sincere as he leans in and plants a small kiss on your forehead. His eyes hesitate, locking on yours for a moment. Leaning back in, he presses his lips to yours. “I love you. So much,”
“Love you more, Bucky.” You smile back up at him.
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Sitting on the exam table in nothing but a medical gown, you swing your legs gently back and forth while gently nibbling the tip of your thumb as you wait for the provider.
You jump at the sudden knock at the door. In walks the new physicians assistant for The Compound, a young and beautiful woman who looked like she was straight out of school.
“Hi! My names Bree and I’ll be working with you today. According to the nurse who did your intake, you’re here for-“ she scrolls through your electronic chart on a tablet, “some abdominal issues. Tell me about that,” she sits down on a stool, listening intently.
“It’s.. really not a big deal,” you start, she keeps quiet waiting for you to explain in more detail. “I don’t know,” you start to fumble with a few loose strands of hair. “I’ve just felt this sort of… heaviness? It hasn’t gone away and is just always sort of there?” Your voice is unsure, feeling self conscious as you describe this silly little symptom that you felt the need to make an appointment for. “This morning I got sick. Well, I went out drinking last night, so I’m assuming I’m a little hung over.” Your words start to sound like your rambling.
“Hmm,” Bree says in response. “When was your last period?”
“Um,” the gears start turning in your head as you try to backdate events, plans that had been interrupted because of aunt flow. “About 4 months ago?” It probably wasn’t on purpose, but you could see the clinicians eyebrow raise a centimeter in question. “It’s not what you think!” You quickly try to defend, “I’m on the pill! My periods have always been irregular which is part of the reason I’m on birth control in the first place.”
“Okay,” she responds, skeptical. “And you take the pill religiously?”
“Yes,”
“Everyday?”
“Yeah…”
“At the same time?” Bree’s eyebrow inclines just a little more.
“Well,” now she has you questioning everything that you’ve said. “I always have an alarm on my phone and try to take it the same time everyday.” That makes you feel better, justified.
“Have you been sick recently? Aside from this morning, any need for any prescriptions, antibiotics?”
“I had bronchitis, but that was… god months ago?”
“Okay,” she says flatly, “so we’ll just go ahead and do a minor work up to see if we can figure out what’s going on. The first thing I want to do though, is a pregnancy test.” Even though you could feel your face change, Bree quickly added, “Routine stuff. It’s one of the bases that we always cover early on.”
You suddenly become hyper focused on the urine sample you left on the counter top, as asked by the nurse. Bree takes out a small, flat test from a nearby drawer and uses a pipette to transfer the fluid.
It could have been 30 seconds or 20 minutes, but the idea that pregnancy was even a remote possibility has your insides feeling like they’re folding in on themselves.
“Okay so,” Bree starts, getting your attention. “The test did in fact, come out positive. Since your cycles have been irregular, I’d like to do an ultrasound to see how far along you are and then we can talk about options. Just go ahead and lay back on the table, feet in the stirrups.”
"Positive?" You repeat. "But... What? How?" It comes out breathless.
"Well, sometimes antibiotics can actually cancel out the effects of birth control. We try to advise women to not be sexually active as the body might seize the opportunity to ovulate and result in an unplanned pregnancy. How about we just take a look and go from there, okay?" Bree says just a little too cheerfully as she pats the stirrups.
Following her directions is the only thing you’re able to focus on. Going through the motions of laying down, putting your feet up and opening your legs. Bree’s voice is a murmur mixed with a high pitch ringing as you look up at the ceiling tiles, counting each spect while she sets up the portable sono machine.
“Just a little pressure,” she says, guiding the wand like probe, looking at the screen. “Okay. So, judging from the size… I’d say you’re close to about 9 weeks, give or take a bit. Do you want to hear the heartbeat?” She asks, sweetly. And it’s the first time you’re able to look at her since lying down. Bree patiently waits for your answer with a warm smile. You reluctantly nod your head.
The room fills with soft, muffled whooshing. “It’s so fast. I-is that okay? Is everything okay?” You’re searching her face for any hint of something being wrong. In return, Bree just nods gently as she keeps her smile, still examining the screen.
“A fetus’ heartbeat is a lot quicker than ours. Everything looks perfect actually. Would you… like to see?”
“Yes, please.” You didn't hesitate with your answer this time.
The screen gets tilted towards you and your eyes start darting all around looking for the baby. Your baby. At first you don't see anything. It doesn't look like photos you've seen on Instagram of pregnancy announcements. But then, in the middle of what looks like a black balloon, is a bean with limbs. In the center of this bean is a lively flicker. Bree uses her index finger to point to the screen.
"There's the fetus' arms and legs," she points to the extremities, "and here," her finger gently taps on the pulsing center, "is the heart."
The whooshing matches the pace of the flicker; lub-dub, lub-dub, lub-dub. Hearing the heartbeat in synch with the pulsing on the screen causes your own heartbeat to match for a moment.
So this is love.
After a moment, Bree removes the probe and rips a paper from the ultrasound machine. "Here's some pictures for you," she hands them to you as you sit up on the bed. "I want to see you back here in three weeks for another check up... unless you want to discuss other options?" You shake your head. "Do you have any questions for me?"
“No, not right now.” You’re solely focused on the pictures now in your hand. Even though the image is burned into your brain, holding a physical copy has some how made it more real.
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The rest of the afternoon was a whirlwind. There was no possible way that you’re actually pregnant. Even with the new noticeable symptoms and bathroom counter littered in double pink lined tests, it still seemed so unbelievable. That’s not even the hardest part. How am I going to tell Bucky?
Just as the reality starts to set in of having to tell the other adult who is directly involved, the front door to the apartment opens.
"Hey, doll!" Bucky calls loudly from the hallway, the thumping of his boots following his voice. "Sorry that the meeting ran late. I figured we could order in tonight. What about that Thai place you like?" He waits for a response while buzzing around the kitchen, no doubt making himself coffee for the dozenth time today. "Doll?" The question echoes through the quiet apartment.
"I'm in here," you acknowledge softly from the living room couch. Bucky pokes his head out from the hallway, breathing a sigh of relief.
"There you are," he starts walking towards you. "If you tell me what you would like for dinner, I'll call it in and then-" his voice and steps stop abruptly. "Hey... you okay?"
"Uh, yeah. Yeah, I'm okay." You answer, obviously distracted.
"That doesn't sound too convincing," Bucky hesitated, looking you over and taking a few steps closer.
"I-I have to tell you something." Your tone is soft, scared. You’re fidgeting with the edges of your sweater sleeves.
“Is it something the doctor said?” His voice is softer now, reluctant and afraid. While his piercing, cerulean blue eyes continue to search yours for the answer, wide and terrified.
“I-“
Should I have gotten balloons? Made him open a box with one of the pregnancy tests or a cute onesie inside? Bake a damn cake?
“Y/n?!” Bucky didn’t yell but definitely had to get your attention. “You’re scaring me. What’s going on?!” He pleaded. Why were the words so difficult to say? Maybe because it hasn’t been said out loud yet. Or that it’s still so shocking. Or maybe that verbalizing it will just make it that more real. You turn on your heels and run to the bathroom.
“Y/n!!” He calls after you, but you know he’ll be just a few steps behind.
Picking up a handful of the positive tests off of the vanity counter with your heartbeat pounding in your ears in combination with his heavy footsteps getting closer.
“Seriously! What is going on-“ Bucky is flustered as he steps into the entryway and stops abruptly at the sight of you facing him, holding the tests fanned out.
“I’m pregnant.” There it is. You’re holding your breath, waiting to see what he’ll say. Aside from contraceptives, you’ve never had any kind of discussions pertaining to a family.
His face softens as he takes a step forward, his eyes hyper fixated on all the double pink lines. Bucky’s chest rises and falls deeply now. “You’re… pregnant? Not sick?” He asks to clarify, being cautious.
“Morning sickness, apparently”, a small laugh escapes and it surprises you. “But other than that, I’m fine. We’re fine.”
The ‘we’re’ part catches his attention. He’s looking into your eyes once again, searching. But, for what?
“Is this… something you want? With… me?” He suddenly sounds so adolescent and anxious. Who can blame him? This took you both completely by surprise. Knowing Bucky, he would support you in whatever you wanted. Whatever decision you thought was best for you, your body, your health in every aspect, he would respect and advocate for. He is being cautious with his response to the news until he knows what your decision is.
Putting the tests down, you take both of his hands into yours and take a deep breath.
“Bucky, if you had asked me this morning, I wouldn’t have known what our future would hold. But knowing what I know now… I want this baby. I want to be a mom and for us to be a family. That being said, I know that this is something that we never talked about. If this isn’t something you want, I underst-“
You’re suddenly cut off by his lips pressing into yours. It feels like a weight has been lifted as Bucky’s arms gently wrap around you to bring you closer. Kissing becomes increasingly difficult around giggles and the obnoxiously big smiles you’re both wearing.
When your lips finally part, Bucky’s eyebrows are raised in excitement. His eyes are darting around your torso as if the news would suddenly show physical changes on your body.
“I can’t believe it…” he breathes, “I actually get the chance to be a Dad-” The word comes out almost as a choked sob. My heart.
Reaching into your back pocket, you pull out the ultrasound Bree had given to you earlier, holding it up for him to see.
"Look, our baby's first photo!"
Bucky takes the picture as gently as if someone were handing him an actual newborn baby. He just stares, probably confused as to what he was looking at similarly to you just a few hours ago.
"I know it doesn't really look like anything right now- but I go back in a few weeks and-"
"Are you kidding?" He looks up from the black and white photo to meet your eyes, a watery sheen coating his own. "This is the most amazing thing I have ever seen in my life." Bucky says softly, as if to himself, looking back down at the picture. And he's smiling. A genuine, heartfelt smile.
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That night was the closest he had ever held you in his arms. The two of you made up for lost conversations and started planning for your future and what it held as you laid in bed. Bucky talked about how he wanted to build a crib instead of buying one and was curious what the appropriate amount of time was to wait until you could both start telling everyone. Excitement was an understatement for this man.
"Can I go with you to your next appointment?" He asked, in a hopeful tone as his fingers traced along smooth, soft circles around your belly button. You giggle, wincing at one specific caress.
"Hey! That tickles! But, of course you can. You can come to all of them. I was... kinda hoping you would?" In return, your tone holds the same anticipation.
"I wouldn't miss it." Bucky's palm flattens against your belly as he places a kiss against your temple.
"Don't get used to that," You say looking down. "We're going to start growing and getting bigger any day now." You fake a frown, although there is a small part of you that isn't necessarily faking.
"Hmm." A low hum vibrates from the back of Bucky's throat as he shifts his body down along yours.
His fingertips skim the hem of your sleep shirt before pulling it up and exposing your stomach. The coolness of the air makes your abdomen tighten, but is soon replaced with petal soft kisses. "When you say 'grow', I hope you mean grow more beautiful by the day." Each firm press of his lips feels like its igniting your skin on fire with the newfound sensitivity. Your toes start to dig down into the mattress.
"Because, y/n..." Bucky repositions himself onto his knees, one now conveniently pressed in-between your legs. The pressure alone makes your heart rate spike and has you borderline panting. He hovers over you, "There isn't anything in this world I find more beautiful or more attractive than my girl carrying my child." He holds your gaze, intense and primal- more than you've ever seen.
"Do you understand?" Bucky asks with a raised brow. You nod hastily and he grins in response. "Good girl. Now, let's see if those rumors about hyper sensitivity are true. Judging by how you're writhing under me and the wet spot on my knee... I'm really going to enjoy the next few months."
If you enjoyed this, please check out my masterlist! Requests are open!
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@peaches1958 @aquabrie @elsie-bells @pono-pura-vida @redbloodedgurl @almosttoopizza @beware-my-thorns @prettylittlepluviophile @annoyinglythoughtfuldestiny @calwitch @ozwriterchick @roofwitty779 @lessersole @lil-darhk @agoddoesnotplead @saranghaey @erinallene @mrsvxder @elizabeth916 @cjand10 @bucky-barnes-lover @skyf-7
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mysicklove · 1 year ago
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𝐒𝐎 𝐅𝐔𝐋𝐋
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DAY 12: SOUNDING
With: Keigo Takami (Hawks)
Word Count: 1.9k
Warnings: Sub! Hawks, gn! reader, sounding, HEAVY sub/dom spaces, hints of sado/masochism, mentions of anal fingering, keigo crying and twitching, cursing, pee/urine mentioned throughout
A/N: This is one of those smut fics that are heavily unrealistic (which i LOVEEEE), keigo says some cringe things at some points tho. LOL
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Keigo has such a pretty face. People stop and stare at him on the street, he has been recruited by multiple modeling companies and is lusted over by teenage girls all over the world. Born to be nicknamed, “Pretty Boy”. It was cute, really, and he seemed to love the name.
But to you, he doesn't look his best when he is photographed in lewd poses, or when the media catches the way he looks at you, or even with his candid hero photos that are unbearably hot.
No, to you, Keigo looks his absolute best when he cried. Of course, not from sadness, from pleasure and pain. When his face is flushed, his eyes are hazy, and tears coat his cheeks. When he looks up at you in pure adoration, and trembles under your hold.
But that was the sadistic side of you talking. The side of you who wants to completely ruin the man. It's hard not to when he looks so pretty during it.
So, slowly you've been finding new ways to wreck him and with each one, he reacts perfectly. You've gotten addicted to it. Him, really.
Tonight you are going to try sounding. You stare at the small metal rod, and then back to your lover, who is leaning against the headboard, and trying to act like he is not completely terrified. He gulps when you peer at him, straightening his back, and trying to uphold his cocky grin.
“You're scared, aren't ya?”
He scoffs, looking away. “No. I'm the one who asked for this, why would I be scared?”
As much as you like ruining Keigo, Keigo loves being ruined. You have to keep a close eye on him because he swears he has no limits and has not used his safeword so far. Everything is on the table for him, and that sometimes worries you. You've held down your desires but he voices them and is the one to beg you for more and more.
Urethra play was not something he has tried. “Mhmm. It will be fine, we will go slow,” You reassure him despite his words. You place a comforting hand on his thigh and he sighs, smiling at you softly.
“Yeah. It'll be fine. You're right.”
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Horrifying is the best word to describe what's in front of him right now. The “thin” rod is now lodged halfway into his urethra and he's panting out, thighs trembling. It doesn't exactly feel bad, but it's foreign, and the sight in front of him makes him uneasy. Nothing is supposed to go in that hole.
He's gripping onto your hand for comfort, eyes wide as saucers. “We aren't even all the way in yet, Keigo.”
He whines out at the words, resting his head on your shoulder. Sweat beads at his forehead and his face is flushed. “F-Feels so full.”
You teasingly tap on the rod, and his back arches, wings fluttering out at the strange feeling. He grips your hand and stares at you, silently pleading. “Sorry. Forgot. Let's put it all in, yeah?”
“Dont–Dont know if I can.”
You stroke the bottom of his shaft and smile at him. “Got plenty of room still. It's supposed to touch your prostate, y'know.”
Yeah, he definitely knew that. For the last couple of days, he researched the ins and outs of this. But still, he doesn't know how the hell it could go any deeper. He feels overwhelmingly stuffed even from half of it being inserted. He gulps and glances at you, but nods.
“Take a deep breath for me, Keigo. Promise it'll feel good in a bit.” You're right, and he knows it. Just like when you fingered him for the first time, it feels weird in the beginning, but now he's addicted to it. This could be a new thing to drive him mad. He sure hopes so.
He takes a deep breath, and you slowly continue to inch it in, letting gravity do the most part. The road is slippery from the lube and it goes in without much difficulty.
Keigo on the other hand is going insane. He is moaning and whining, gripping onto the sheets with such force that you are afraid he is going to rip it. You watch his arm muscles clench and unclench, and he throws his head back. “Oh. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” He cries with every second it goes deeper.
You hush him, using your other hand to stroke him gently, hoping to coax it in. His squirming makes it harder, and you don't want to hurt him, so you try your best to pin his hips down beneath you so they won't jump up.
And at last, it reaches the bottom. You pull away and look up at him. Keigo is trembling, back arched pornographically, and staring at the ceiling with an open mouth. Tears drip down his cheeks, and his legs are trembling, bent, and spread wide. “All done, it's all the way in now. Shhh, just gotta get adjusted to it.”
He shakes his head and lets out a cry, “Fuck. It's weird. Feels so weird! Full–I cant–”
You lean forward to press your lips to his, cutting his frantic rambling off. “Keigo, do you want to use your safeword?” You ask, just for reassurance.
He shakes his head frantically. “No! Wait! I-I never said I didn't like it!” He pleads desperately to you, even if you haven't tried to make an effort to remove it. His mind seems to be scattered, but this is how he is when he usually tries new things in bed. Today, just a little bit more extreme, considering you haven't tried anything even close to this.
“What does it feel like, Birdie?”
He takes a deep, shaky breath. “Feels full. D-Different type of full. It's weird. And it also feels like I gotta pee a little bit. But in a good way? It's all so weird and overwhelming, Y/N!”
You gulp, watching the way his eyes move around frantically. The way his body is bright red, and he's staring at you with desperate eyes. His mouth is glossy, and his eyes are wet. This is your favorite face of Keigos. This is what you have been wanting to see.
The urges get the better of you. “I'm going to move it now Keigo.”
His eyes widen, and before he can even protest, you move it upward, slightly. His back arches again and he gasps for air. “O-Oh–Its–Fuckkkkk.”
You push it back in completely and he keens, gripping onto your hand with wide eyes. A loud, desperate whine is let out, and more tears stream down his face. He's withering under you, and you can't help but stare at his pretty physique. “Are you oka–”
“Again!” He sobs, legs moving sporadically against the sheets.
His words make you gulp. He's falling into that state again. The one where his only task is to get himself completely fucked dumb. He doesn't want to think about anything except his pleasure, and frankly, his adorable facial expression is pulling you into your very own state with him.
You lift the rod up, farther than last time, until more than half of it sticks out. He stares at it, panting loudly and waiting for you to push it back in. It makes his adrenal pulse, and his mouth begins to water.
You don't tease him too long, and abide by his wishes, pressing the full thing in until it reaches the very bottom of his cock. He moans this time, enjoying it more with every second. Tears continue to fall, but he can't pay attention to them, instead focused on the feeling of being so full. If he had a toy in the other end, he surely would have lost his mind. Next time, for sure.
You continue to bring it up and down and he gets louder and louder with each stroke, not caring for whoever hears him. He is feeling such intense pleasure, everyone should hear his cries. Or at least that is what he believes.
“So cute. We found another hole for me to abuse, yeah Keigo?” You purr, eyes traveling up his shaking body with hunger.
He nods his head frantically. “Yes. Yes! Please fuck it more, I'm begging!”
You stop for a moment, a teasing gleam in your eyes. “Want me to fuck your pee hole? How lewd, Birdie.”
But to your dismay, he isn't responding to the teasing as you hoped. Instead, just agreeing with every word, too lost in the subspace to really care for how dirty your words are. “Yes! F-Fuck my pee hole. Need it. S-So full!”
You don't mind your failed attempt, now staring fondly at the pretty boy in front of you, who is completely out of it by now. It usually takes him longer to get to this state, and it was intriguing that this little rod had such a huge effect on him.
Your pace is quicker, and you use your other hand to stroke him off. His mouth hangs open, and drool begins to bead at the corner of his mouth. Every breath is a high-pitched, airy moan. It's adorable, really.
You watch his thighs start to clench and you raise your eyebrows, knowing that he's going to cum sometime soon. When you glance back up at his face, he's staring back at you, sniffling gently, but his eyes are full of adoration.
“C-Cum? Please?” He is struggling to speak, and you can't help but take mercy on him. He was so cute not to.
“Sure, baby. You can cum,” You coo, leaning forward to kiss his abdomen. He lets out a whine in thanks and nods his head.
A couple seconds go by and his breaths become quicker, louder too. His toes begin to curl, and he grips onto the bedsheets. “N-Now!” He begs, and you quickly take out the rod for him to cum.
White liquid flies out and falls onto his stomach, and you continue to use one hand to stroke him through it all. He takes loud gasps and lets out a loud shaky moan, and then another equally loud and high in pitch. His body constricts in odd, but cute ways, and he clenches his eyes shut, causing more tears to fall down his face.
You sit and admire him, only stopping your hand movements when he lets out a broken sob at the feeling of overstimulation.
A couple seconds go by, and you hum quietly, waiting for him to talk. Depending on what he says will determine if he wants to keep going or rest. The ball is in his court.
It doesn't take him too long to decide, obviously still in the subspace, but willing to communicate.
“Wanna. I wanna. H-Hey, why did you stop?” He complains, whiny and dramatic. You raise your eyebrows at him and bark a short laugh.
You aren't even surprised at this point. So, you pick up the rod again, and he stares at it, like a dog to a bone. He grins, the smile fucked out, and lazy. “Feels, so empty. Put it back, pleaseeeee!”
When you plunge it back in, he almost cums again on the spot.
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zemosbff · 3 months ago
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study session
amongst other things…
pairing: mentor!agatha x witch!reader
summary: tired of studying, you find something far more enjoyable to do together with your mentor, agatha harkness..
content warning: (legal) age gap, teacher x student, fem (afab) reader, a little mix of everything; dry humping, nipple play, eating out (r receiving), fingering (r receiving), mommy kink
word count: 1.6k
a/n: haii :3 this is my first ever fanfic, i hope you all enjoy it! don’t be afraid to leave requests or some feedback!
MINORS DNI. 18+ ONLY
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the words in the book you were reading soon turned into mush. your head throbbed and a big sigh left your lips before turning to your mentor sitting on your right.
you had been agatha’s student for a couple of months now, ever since you moved in next door. she had been the first to introduce herself to you, and as soon she realized that you too, just like her, were a witch, she took you under her wings. she wanted to teach you everything she knew, wanted you to be her perfect little student.
“agatha..” you started, but as soon as you locked eyes with the older witch already staring at you, you quickly forgot your trail of thoughts.
as embarrassing as it was, there was no denying your feelings for agatha. which maybe wasn’t so weird after all since she was quite literally the only one you had. you spent more time with her than alone, and you had tried to convince yourself it was because of your immense dedication to the research and work you put into learning and be a good student. but that wasn’t exactly the truth, and deep down you knew it.
so, instead of trying to bury your feelings, you decided to have some fun with it instead.
you had no idea whether agatha actually liked you back though, so it was definitely a risky game. but you were tired of studying, and it was a risk you were willing to take. besides, she always used pet names for you which sent butterflies down your stomach. was it normal for a mentor to call their student things like “hon, “sweetheart”, “angel”? or your personal favorite, “good girl”. you weren’t sure, but in your mind you were the only one she would call those things. hopefully.
“what, darling?”
darling. the word sent shivers down your spine, and you tried hiding your little smirk that creeped up your face. perhaps agatha saw this, because what she did next made your breath heavier.
she calmly put her hand on your thigh, still keeping eye contact with you as she started to move her hand up and down, caressing you carefully. the touch wasn’t necessarily out of the ordinary, but made your heart flutter nonetheless.
you had grown impatient as of lately, and therefore dressed in a way you thought would attract the older dark haired witch beside you. the short dress made an easy access to your already dripping cunt. it took so little to make you worked up, something that agatha regularly took to her advantage, unbeknownst to you of course.
“are you going to answer me or not?” she let out a small chuckle, watching your cheeks grow red.
“can we do something else?” you asked with uncertainty. you didn’t know how she would react, perhaps your delusions were just that - delusions.
she leaned towards you, and when she was so close you could feel her breath against your ear she whispered in a seductive voice.
“like what?”
she leaned back again and bit her lip while watching you lose your confidence and quickly surrender to her.
your legs started to feel weak, and you felt thankful for sitting down. was this actually happening? is agatha flirting with you or is this simply your imagination slipping away from reality?
she closed the thick book in front of you harshly and continued.
“alright, since you’ve worked so hard, would you like a little reward?”
you managed to open your mouth and let out a pathetic attempt to answer yes while nodding.
you had no idea what would happen next, it felt as if your head simply stopped all kinds of thoughts, not wanting to interfere with whatever was going to happen next.
agatha leaned forward slowly, as if she was afraid to scare you away if she moved too quickly. you could see the lust and yearning in her eyes, and as if something took over your body you crashed your lips onto hers. her hands reached your hair and gripped tightly, making you groan into her mouth, which led to her taking the opportunity to stick her tongue in your mouth. you had been kissed before, but nothing could compare to this. months of stares that lasted a bit too long, pet names and touches that could be considered flirting, but both too anxious to actually take the first step.
it felt as if you were on fire, shivering when her tongue went deeper, making you forget how to breathe properly. while keeping body contact she stood up, and you obediently followed her lead. her hands laid on your shoulders and still deep in the kiss you moved to agatha’s couch; the bedroom simply being too far away at the moment. you needed each other, and had no time to spill, so the couch would do. agatha pushed you down while quickly following, she sat down beside you, legs touching.
without breaking the kiss you raised one of your legs and put it on the other side of her, making you sit on top of her. the sudden change of position made agatha whimper into your mouth and you realized you now had the upper hand.
desperately wanting some friction you started moving your hips back and forth, searching for something to get you off on. agatha’s hands found your hips and pushed you down while helping you move.
“please.. i want you..” suddenly the words you had been thinking of for so long finally left your mouth, and you couldn’t believe this was really happening. apparently those three words i want you was all that was needed for agatha to hungrily touch you all over. her hands lingered over your breasts and just seconds later she threw your dress over your head. still sitting on top of her, she had a perfect view of your completely bare chest. she looked at you shamelessly while she took one of your nipples into her hot mouth, swirling her tongue just perfectly making the hairs on your body stand right up. one of her hands found your other nipple and gently pinched it, looking for a reaction from you which you gladly gave her, whimpering loudly.
she moved on from your breasts and instead started leaving wet kisses all over your neck, trying to taste every part of you.
“you want me baby? tell me you want me” her voice was low and husky, making your legs tremble.
“yes, god agatha, i want you so bad”
“such a good girl”
there it was. good girl. nothing in the world could ever get you as riled up as agatha calling you a good girl, specifically her good girl.
you sucked in a sharp breath when she moved you to lay on your back, and she slowly lowered herself and pulled down your underwear with only her teeth. you could tell she was skilled, way more than you were, so you decided to just let her take full control over your body. she could use you, do whatever she wanted with you without question.
she put a trail of small fluttering kisses along your inner thighs, making your whole body shiver.
“does this feel good hon?”
without even waiting for your answer she teased your folds with her nose, before licking up your leaking juices.
“so wet for me already, hm?”
you let out a loud moan when she for the second time closed the distance between your soaking core and her mouth. she explored your pussy with her tongue and started getting more and more aggressive with it. wanting to give you the most pleasure possible she started rubbing your clit in circles with her fingers, still burying her entire lower face into your folds.
“feels.. so good..” you finally let out with a heavy breath, not knowing what else to say or do.
your hands reached down to her thick hair, pulling it harshly when she bit down on your sensitive clit.
mindlessly fucking you with both her fingers and mouth she felt you tense up, and you started to feel the familiar sensation in your abdomen, knowing you were close.
“i.. i’m close..”
“beg.”
“please.. please let me cum”
“that’s what you call begging? honey, you’re pathetic” she said with her low sexy voice, absolutely sending you over the edge.
“agatha oh my god, please let me come, please mommy”
and with that you let it all out, squirting over her face while you bucked your hips up and down to ride it out. with a sigh and eyes rolling back in your head she inserted a finger in your hole, stretching it out without any warning.
“fuck, agatha!” you screamed, while she hushed you, explaining that we didn’t want the whole neighborhood to hear now, do we?
but in all honesty, you couldn’t care less. she pumped her finger in and out, soon leaving you a blabbering mess.
a second finger appeared inside you, and she picked up her pace even more while your walls started to clench around her.
agatha leaned forward and pressed loving kisses all over your face while tears started to form in your eyes as she continued aimlessly fucking you, not giving a single thought to just how overstimulated you were at the moment. just a single touch would make you melt.
your breath became more prominent and you knew you wanted, no, needed, to orgasm on her fingers. your back ached and with a couple more sinful moans from you and a third finger from agatha, you screamed her name while letting loose the best orgasm you’ve ever had in your entire life.
panting like she had just ran a marathon, agatha left a kiss on your forehead.
“how was that, hm?” she asked, and all you could think was that this was so, so much better than studying.
a/n (again): let me know if anyone would be interested in a part 2! also i lowkey rushed this because i just wanted to be done with it, but hope yall enjoyed it anyways!
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lemonlover1110 · 6 days ago
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Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader
Summary: Toji loves the cookie dough a little too much.
Warnings: Fluff
*This is for my secret santa in my server🫶 they specifically put down toji for the character they'd like so i was in luck🙂‍↕️
Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi - Bluesky
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“Stop eating the cookie dough!” You scold Toji as he sneaks some of the dough. It wouldn’t matter if it was only a little bit, but you’re not sure that you’ll end up with cookies at this rate. 
“You can’t blame me– Itssogood.” He responds with a mouthful of cookie dough, and you roll your eyes. You should’ve known Toji had something up his sleeve when he offered to do something– Toji never offers to help out.
“They’re for Santa! Megumi is going to be upset if he only sees one cookie for Santa.” You slap his hand away when Toji reaches for more. Toji whines, rubbing the spot that your hand just hit as if it actually hurt. 
“I’m Santa anyway. If I want to eat them now then–” He begins but you shush him before he can say another word. You know that Megumi has very big ears whenever it’s convenient. The last thing you need is to explain to him that Santa is not in fact some random guy that leaves presents, but his father.
You’re looking around the place, looking for traces of the little guy, and Toji takes the opportunity to sneak some of the dough. You look back at Toji, seeing a devilish smirk on his face as he slowly chews.
“I hope you get salmonella.” You tell him, and a frown comes to his face. He sticks his tongue out at you before walking away.
“Guess my help is not needed then.” He says, as if you were in dire need of him. He joined you in the kitchen unprompted, and started eating your hard work as if it were nothing.
“It never was.” You respond, and he scoffs. You decide to not tell him anything else, opting out of some more bickering. Instead, you’ll just make some more cookie dough. 
You turn your back to the bowl, going to the pantry to grab the sugars and flours again. You should’ve known better than to do that when Toji’s nearby. When you turn around, the bowl is gone, and so is Toji.
“Toji, this isn’t funny!” You yell before sighing. You dust off your hands on your apron before walking away from the kitchen and beginning the search for your husband. How can a man his size be so sneaky?
You begin in the living room, then go to your bedroom, until you end up in Megumi’s bedroom. The child is guarding the closet, immediately giving away his father’s hiding spot.
“Come here, Toji, Toji, Toji.” You call out as you walk to the closet. You take slow steps that make Megumi tremble in fear. You smile at the child when you’re in front of him, telling him, “Move out of the way.”
“Santa’s not coming if you open the closet.” Megumi repeats the threat that his father used, and you can’t help but laugh.
“Oh, Megumi, Santa’s not coming if your daddy eats all the cookie dough.” You respond, which makes the child’s eyes well up with tears. He isn’t sure what to do, he’s only five… This is a hard decision to make. Should he listen to you or his father? He just wants new toys, he shouldn’t be put through this.
In the end, Megumi steps aside, letting you open the closet. You slowly open the door that makes you see Toji in a completely different light.
“It’s not that good.” You say as you snatch the bowl out of the man’s strong hands. Toji glares at the little snitch that’s next to you before looking at you.
“Leavemealone!” He has a mouthful of it in his mouth. Toji is not the type to care for sweets, so this is weird for you.
“Get out of there, Toji. How the hell did you even fit in there?” You question, and Toji rolls his eyes. 
“Life finds a way.” Toji responds as he attempts to get out of the tiny closet. He won’t lie, getting in was much easier than pulling out– It’s not the first time in his life it happens, it’s how he ended up with Megumi and how you had a pregnancy scare last week. But he’ll find a way.
“Do you want a batch, baby?” You question, and Toji nods as he struggles to get out. “See, all you had to do was ask.”
“Why didn’t you offer since the beginning?”
“Why would I?” You respond, and he clicks his tongue. He falls on his ass in the closet, and he can almost cry. He’s hit rock bottom, and all because of some cookie dough. You’re trying not to laugh as you watch him. Instead, you choose to be helpful by asking, “You need me to call the fire department?”
“Life finds a way.” He repeats.
“Yeah, let me call the fire department.”
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