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#i want to be well! i want to be healthy!!! why will my brain not let me help my fucking body!!!!!!
puppetmaster13u · 9 months
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I’ve been thinking about this a lot and basically Danny is Beelzebub from Hellva boss with his own casino performs and the entrance defies reality and all his ghost rouges come in and go as they please and some humans and or mortals stumble in and think it’s just some place where metas party their fucking asses off which wouldn’t be that bad if this wasn’t FUCKING GOTHAM. Danny doesn’t know how they got in Gotham but they just want to party but unfortunately for him the bats hear a rumor some meta trafficking ring has been planning a big raid on a certain casino that’s new ish and they have to stop it so they go in disguise and they get to witness Danny and his rouges beat the every loving snot out of some traffickers
maybe Danny is a clone, maybes he’s reincarnated, maybe he lost a bet, maybe he moved to Gotham for fun, maybe he got tossed across the universe into Gotham
who knows certainly not Danny
but to add even more maybe he travels around the casino on trapezes and circus rings that he just flips around it and has a pole it the middle that reaches the ceiling and at the top there’s this disco ball thing that he can activate to make a small nebula or stars surround the casino and make it pretty
oh oh and maybe with him having the title of beelzebub is like gotten after he beat them as in right of conquest, or maybe beelzebub is kinda like a shared name so Danny fuels them and they go around getting mortal action without having to do work, or maybe it was given to him as a present with a bow on top idk
I have no words for this and just had to draw because the idea of a casino or whatever with like, everywhere looking like galaxies and auroras that shift to the music was such an amazing visualization lol
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Books of 2024: ALWAYS COMING HOME by Ursula K. Le Guin.
The people have Spoken, so I'll be reading this 618-page brick next! The cover page credits the author, an artist, a composer, a geomancer (??), and the author of the intro, so. I suspect I'm in for a Ride™. I am both Excited and Intimidated--will report back on how this goes!
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seaweedstarshine · 4 months
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RIP Krakoa 🌹 I can’t lie I’ve been kinda behind since midway through Fall of X I’m gonna catch up before my first SDCC this summer but I hear Vulcan didn’t see much action anyway. Anyway my hand slipped and I found myself looking into the eyes of my canonically psychotic son the best Summers brother who’s never done anything wrong in his entire life, (he’s done lotsa wrong things but I love him more for it)
#canonically psychotic = he canonically has psychosis. (not in the ableist way in that hes evil. which he is. lemme enjoy problematic rep)#Gabriel Summers#art by seaweed#words by seaweed#X-Men Red#the Gabriel hate during the Krakoa era pffffft. was 100% from ppl who didnt read the Rise and Fall of the Shi'ar Empire#“he attacked Storm” hes also a genocidal dictator who tortures ppl for catharsis. drunkenly coming at Ororo is the least bad thing he did#“he's a douche” mother of all understatements. now get this man back w his boyfriend who he forced to be his best man under pain of death#Gabriel fans LOVE that Ororo beat his ass. he deserved it. it was a fake discourse made up by a certain segment of goddess!Ororo fans#I say as an Ororo fan! Shes my fav A-list x-man🥰 yes Gabe was at a mental low but Ororo didnt know that. that was Scott's responsibility.#psychotic Emperor Vulcan is what we call a problematic mentally ill villain trope. I love him SO much. (okay lets talk)#we don’t know much about his childhood but we do know he spent 2 years in a fugue state after escaping slavers when he was like ten ):#as an “adult”-ish he's uh “mentally” 15 or sumn according to the calculations claimed to him by his hallucination of his actual child self#and apart from THOSE hallucinations. he’s very paranoid to the point of killing his advisors because he becomes convinced-#that they’re plotting to kill him. they aren't. he relies on Calseye to ground him thru his paranoia. and then of course in the Krakoa era#he believes his energy constructs of Petra and Sway who drink with him till he blacks out every single day are real. he isnt consciously#creating them; but he sees them- and bc he’s a godlike mutant his subconscious makes his hallucinations visible. making everyone uncomfy#Charles tries to use telepathy to FORCIBLY reality check him. which of course triggers his trauma. and GABE is punished for it?#(oh plus our finding out Gabe got brain surgery done on him by some gods outside the universe offpanel. he never does well with tampering)#and now the writers who pushed Hickman out (also RIP Sabretooth & the Exiles. RIP Hellions) want us to be SAD Krakoa is gone?#yes Gabriel is the mentally ill villain trope. but Krakoa never cared for mutants who couldn’t fit in. who were traumatized. disabled. etc#Alex OF ALL PEOPLE should understand that. ALEX should’ve been there for Gabriel. (why wasn't he. did he hold a grudge for past torture.)#Alex also w Murder-Enjoying Disorder but it was actually treated as an illness and those in authority presented as wrong for excluding him#instead of helping him. which v flawed but Hellions was one of the best mental illness comics? like Zeb Wells was conscious of the genre#but Gabriel was just… cast out. for panicking when his prime traumatizer Charles invaded his mind. he deserved help too#and all because his family were annoyed at him for drinking all night and throwing up and passing out on the floor? for being delusional?#And like- all of the summers brothers are nd (Scott's brain damage; Alex's dissociative episodes; Gabriel's psychosis)#I have nothing to say about Adam X ((I highly doubt he's neurotypical and/or mentally healthy)) ((nothing to say abt him tho))#and Gabes paranoia is 100% rooted in his issues of being made to feel like an outsider. like YES the obvious MUTANT identity but also#he thinks his father abandoned him to be a slave. he's not Summers enough for Scott. hes not Shi'ar enough for the Shi'ar
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nomairuins · 1 month
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i like overthink everything now it makes me feel so dumb. i used 2 be able to just talk 2 ppl but nowadays every single thing im like Is that actually going to make them hate me. Yes probably. and then i just dont respond which makes ppl hate me. this is how it is
#ive been overthinking 1 light and casual mildly funny response to something but im worried itll come off as disrespectful and dismissive And#make me seem stupid and uncaring all at the same time. and also be seen as insulting. but like idt itd be insulting right like. im not#saying what it is so ig for all you guys know im like I mean if i say All your shit suck ball and i hateit kys. <- thats not the thing i was#going to say#like it doesnt matter now the window for response is closed now but i feel stupid bc i shouldve just said it it was light and casual. im so#bad at keeping convos gojng im convinced im not going to survive. In like a light and casual way like in a He will not make it through the#winter joke way. dw. im not going to do anything bc i had One failed interaction. if i was going to do anythjng itd be bc of the 8000000#other failed interactions. But im not. anyways. it just makes me feel so useless 😭 like i want to respond i want to talk to ppl so bad but#i feel like i mess things up Irreparably every time i speak OR i take too LONG overthinking my response and then i just cant respond bc its#been too long and then its been 3 years and the only messages ive ever sent r my intro message and 1 message 2 years ago that nobody#responded to at all. or the conversation stopped immediately after. and like i used to be better at this i was lkke. talkative in a couple#muts servers like. i talked 2 ppl daily in those servers and i had fun and like. I was an important part of the group and i felt like it#but i just feel like such an outsider for Everything and its literally my fault bc i cant just like. Talk. The explosion. bc im always like#im gonna try im gonna do it this time im gonna get it back im going to finally be Good connor and im going to fix it all and make a Good#solid friend group and ill find HEALTHY LOVE and i wont selfsabotage and ill move out and have a job and ill balance it well and ill start#all my hobbies and ill have a great routine and be so loveable and on top of it and not stressed and content and happy and roll with the#punches and then theres a single hiccup and im like Well fuckinf whatever im going to be an unemployed hermit forever and im going to die b4#im 25 anyways so Who cares and also im digging a little hole for myself. and its like. AUGHH ik i just have to persevere and overcome but#even saying that feels so stupid its not fucking hard its Talking to ppl. like. i literally if ive ever said a word to you i had to think#avt it and strategize how to respond right even for like. like. it makes it sound like its not genuine it is#like for example i want to say hey i love your art! but then i freak out and im like thats not normal thats like a rly generic comment they#hear that all the time theyll thjnk im being polite and my brains like hrmmm rewrite Your art changed my life. It shaped me. Ill never be#the same. Nad im like ok too far overcorrected go back and the sentence generator is like Your art has colors 💯 like. GOD. WHY IS IT SO#difficult. and then usually i either just dont say anythinf and feel awful abt it 4ever OR i send it on anon and then i spend like 15#minutes ibsessively slightly tweaking the apelling and capitalization and punctuation to make sure it doesnt seem like its me just in case#it Is the worst possible thing to say but then i see the response and itll be like AWWW TYSM :] THIS MEANS A LOT or whathaveyou and i feel#stupid bc i couldve just Told them this to their face and it wouldve been a good positive interaction we had. but instead i had 2 hide and#tyoe entirely differently so they couldnt sniff me from my typing style. and it soesnt even feel like the thanks is actually 4 me bc i#tweaked the message sm. and it still makes me happy that the oersons hapoy but its like. that couldve been a nice mutual interaction#like not that i need a personal ty i compliment ppl when i Want to compliment ppl and when its genuine yk. i dont do it so i get mutualpoint
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donnyclaws · 1 year
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I was gonan make a post apologizing for lack of regular art but I feel like jts already clear im sporadic and in and out of it bc chronic pain and circumstances. So for now I'm gonna hibernate, get my health steady again, deal with money issues, and art will happen when it happens.
#i do feel kind of worn down by it. i wish patreon and commissions didn't feel so taxing even with accommodations ive made for myself#maybe it'll feel better in the future when less is going on but rn it#places this barrier of management in front of art that makes it less relieving to do#cause there's always a part of my brain reminding me it needs to serve a purpose and needs to pay off in some way#which isn’t a new feeling for artists obviously. maybe doing it all since hs js also why it's tiring. and patreon changjng the way it does#working part time now too. idk if maybe id like to step back from it#it's abnormal that i worked taht hard and it did help me get out from my parents and stay out. but im also tired ect#idw let people down by not being able to keep up with a self imposed expectation or#be irresponsible and remove sources of income for myself. redbubble inprnt and patreon all suck in ways that bother me hugely#i only really enjoy itch.io at the minute#not to say anything bad abt patrons or commission clients you've all been excessively kind and patient and understanding always#i wish i could make them better i feel like there's no way how it is at the minute is of value compared to my output as an older teen#but yknow. self imposed worry. im just worn out and id like to just make things without the management and the fretting and the#i havent made a comic post for patreon in ages or this or this i havent made a speedpaint or a song or#yadda yadda lmao#sorry for the impromptu ramble#this isnt to say id never do commissions or a store or anything again or i want to not make money off art#god knows i will need to be grinding out comms once im well again but ex#i feel like im getting less and less able to manage it and then putting out less and less#and hoping ill somehow get very healthy and active again one day and make it worth the wait yknow.#it's not a feeling i want my art to carry in me.#part of me and the parent in my brain is saying it'd be selfish to give up income but the rest is like#that's cruel. i want to feel good and healthy
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running-in-the-dark · 7 months
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and I'm having thoughts again
so I've been watching that John Larroquette interview that I reblogged on repeat for half an hour now and I'm just. man I am so very....... okay I'm trying not to say that I'm stupid anymore but god what else is there to say. it's making me feel like my brain just turns off and all there is is static and [insert very high frequency screaming sound].
like I would love to be able to have actual thoughts about this shit but I am not. I just love love love people who think about shit and face their issues and work on getting better. and talk about it. like it's just a thing that happened. because it is. it's not 'oh you did bad shit in your past so you're fucked forever now'. it's 'bad shit happened, I did bad things, I confronted it, I made different choices' and that's it. I just. man I'm feeling really emotional and am probably gonna have a good long cry about this now.
#one thought that I had when my brain stopped just loudly screaming at me was#oh I totally always think I wouldn't ever end up in a cult. because it's not something that would appeal to me and shit. I'm suspicious of#anything like that. one person claiming to know everything and all that#and it just hit me like. DUDE. you would absolutely 100% end up in a cult if the right guy was leading it#like if he had a cult that I could join right now? oh dude I'd be so in. kinda joking but also like. come on I am so fucking obsessive I#would absolutely fall for that#(and lets not even get into the whole thing of actually getting attention from the person I'd be obsessed with. oh it'd be bad. it'd fuck#me up. I'd be so easy to convince if we're being honest....)#but anyway I just. I don't know#honestly though? I just love studying one person at a time from afar like. hi I would immediately explode if I ever met this man I could not#handle it. but I can absolutely find out everything I can about him and study him like. something that normal people would study idk I'm#insane.#anyway man that was a weird tangent#true tho.#I don't want to make light of actual addictions like alcoholism. I'm not. addicted I guess. but I'm absolutely fucking obsessive about shit#and I absolutely know it cannot be healthy to keep doing this#like dude you have no life because all you do is watch other people live theirs. why am I studying this man's life like it matters. it's not#making anything better. knowing every damn thing he did in the 80s will not make up for the fact that I don't have. anything.#fuck now I'm really crying oh well this really took a weird turn#fuuuuck.#personal
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ephemeral-winter · 3 months
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WHY is EATING so DIFFICULT!!!!!!!!
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bittwitchy · 6 months
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see the reality is i post on my rps usually when nobodys been there a bit and nobody is probably online, but the mental illness in me keeps saying its bc everyone secretly hates me and i dont deserve love, and when i tell a gov doctor that, they basically just say ‘take your antidepressant’s and shut up’ which is also funny when said gov doctor wont refill my fucking antidepressants in the first place
#what i need is smthn for my anxiety and PROBABLY the obviously worsening ocd#but anxiety meds and antidepressants dont mix well#just like adhd meds and anything else dont mix well#which is why i just have a redbull if i need to focus bx it works for a few hours and then i pass out#which isnt healthy but its better than going through the diagnosis process AGAIN bc they dont have my info anymore#its early sad times rn w brina who hasnt gotten an ounce of treatment at all hi#see the other thing is#if i talk about my mental health at all#people will either hate me for being annoying which is what my brain will pinpoint#or feel sorry for me which i also dont want#all i rly wanna do is vent but thats never really an option at all#like yes i know its not normal to want to have a breakdown and cry bc your fucking pillow isnt the correct fluff and wont dluff#i know its not normal to feel like you should die because something wasnt in fhe spot you put it in and was moved slightly#im aware. and the reality is nobody who can do anything about it cares#i have to get an authorization to see a therapist or get meds at all even tho the card claims i dont have to#and the doc tbey gave me wont give me one#they dont allow email so i cant leave a paper trail when bitching at them and my calls go ignored#im losing my mind steadily#and thats not even onto the physical problems#but also the sheer fucking audacity of the website being all ‘oh just go to ERs and UC snd we’ll cover it’ vs hospitals specifically saying#‘we will refuse you if you have Gov Ins unless you have the money to pay out of pocket#if youre on gov insurance you dont have fucking money thats the entire fucking point. you creedy fucknuts go shove tour nepotism in your#fucking eyes and die if anyone doesnt deserve to fuck its you fuckfaces#sometimes i just want to scream esp when this doesnt seem to be most other ppls issues#but then i talk to other women and it is#it just doesnt make sense and i hate it#but i never rly got help on private insurance either so#tbd#depression cw
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girlyliondragon · 1 year
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Sapphire isn't used to love letters much less affection in any way considering a lot of people want nothing to do with her nowadays or scared her away further into self-isolation. But the deeply suppressed hopeless romantic part of her sprang up -albeit reluctantly- as a result of the letter that somehow popped up. Who could it be???
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This does not involve any former fictional love I had in the past.
A personal doodle with vague self-ship implications as is intended. I don't date irl people anymore as I think it's best for others to not have to deal with me. But regarding the not-irl world I've had this damn bastard of a character in my head for... a month now? Even tho they've been my childhood during the late 90s - very VERY early 2000s when I was little probs because I didn't know f/os were a thing, and they've only just stated making me crush on them this year. Which is all well and good because I miss the feeling so much. But I don't really talk about them much at all and even less want to even hint at who they are outside of extremely vague shit that could apply to anyone else because frankly the only way I feel safe loving 2D in such away again without having people make me feel like I'm a freak who shouldn't feel negative emotions is to keep it all to myself.
Also this doodle takes an anti-social extremely misanthropic cryptid with relationship problems & believes she doesn't deserve any sort of happiness and pairs her with a sudden strange love letter and was an interesting combo because she's not trusting at all and is dealing with an array of emotions like I've been.
Art/OC: Mine
Do not steal/crop/edit/etc. Do not tag as kin/me
#Sapphire (Fursona)#Em Doodles#I take self-shipping very seriously because it's such a huge part of my life that shaped me to who I am#not to mention my brain sees and materializes the characters into a whole thing with them to where they literally feel real#to where I have entire lives with them. Like living with them. Socializing with them. Talking about them as if they were real and happy#plus I cannot love myself without it as it feels fake and performative otherwise#I don't like that I'm at the point of being afraid of a means to love myself in a coping-mechanism sort of way.#especially not if it was originally a thing to make me feel wanted that I'm now struggling to hold on to (I want this to be long term ffs)#and yet the fact that it's a problem for others shows me that people literally will not get me even when I explain everything#it's like hiding your s/o. I've already had to do that irl with my longest bf. it's why I don't like doing it with my fictional others#it's not JUST a coping mechanism it's literally my best means for a healthy relationship and I wish outside forces didn't make it difficult#real people have almost always hurt me while fictional characters never did. I do not care. I prefer the former over the latter ANY day#the only exception are those that haven't but they're very veeeeeery few. Like three fingers or something few#But oh well. Guess the only way to do that now is to keep it to myself#note btw that Sapphire is still a character built off my stil current extremely depressive state and thus won't be seen happy all that ofte#this is already pushing the line and even then I'm not comfortable still talking about stuff like this now#but between this and an extreme piece of bloody vent art I rather post this
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opens-up-4-nobody · 2 years
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...
#me doing field work with someone cool: look at me im so normal. im fine. idk why i was crying so much yesterday lol#me after opening my email and checking comments on manuscript: i... i want to say and do so many upsetting things rn#i want to spit and bite. i want to wander out into the woods and vanish. except its the middle of the fucking desert and there's no woods#i shouldnt even be looking at this stuff bc i spent fucking like 9hrs doing fieldwork and my brain is fried#but my fried brain hates me hhhhh i have so much bullshit to do. i dont fucking care about any of this#and yet tomorrow morning im gonna get before fucking 6am and im gonna get field supplies together for Friday and im gonna meet a fucking#collaborator at fucking 4pm bc i cant fucking stop. but if i can manage go to the fucking health and wellness center bc im not healthy and#im not well and idk how tf it works bc im staff and not a student but i assume they have some obligation to help if i wander in off the#street. then idk well see how the middle of my day turns out bc ive got 90 million things to do#but god i hope i go in tomorrow like i just want to not have to live like this anymore i dont wanna lurch around full of bitterness & pain#i dont even like field work that much. i cant convince my brain im not just wasting time so it stresses me out#but fucking everything stresses me out. tho today it was more useful in avoiding the things i dont wanna do#hhhh im just sick to death of all this#unrelated#also fucking shout out to my sp0tify wrap list. i forgot that i used to listen to crumb radio to fall asleep so im apparently in the top 2#percent of crumb listners lol. also my genres were german indie. iclandic idie. indie rock and alternative rock lol#i dig the idie music
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bewby · 2 years
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gurugirl · 10 days
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Truth or Dare | slumber party!h
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Summary: Y/n's coworker, Harry, has never been to a slumber party so she decides to remedy that and give him a sleepover he'll never forget.
A/N: Based off this request. Thanks anon! I hope you enjoy!
Word Count: 6,752
Warning: smut
. . .
By her third glass of chardonnay, her stomach was feeling the acid from the wine but she was having such a good time talking to Harry from the operations department that she didn’t care. She’d have another before calling it a night. Just one more glass so she could sit with him a little longer and listen to him talk and watch as he ran his finger along the edge of his pint glass.
He was probably looking at her like he was because he was also three pints of lager in and he was kind so he was holding eye contact to be polite. Certainly, it wasn’t because he found her attractive (though she’d have welcomed that).
The company’s management meeting was long over and everyone else had gone home but Harry and Y/n stayed for another round. They rarely ever got to talk at the office. She’d always wanted to pick his brain about why he decided to move to the US and how, of all companies, he chose to work at Dunn Services.
Y/n laughed on cue as he mentioned something from his childhood with his sister having her friends over to stay the night. He grinned, a healthy row of teeth aimed at her before he looked down and laughed at himself, “In truth? I never did have a sleepover or anything like that.”
“Really? Surely you had friends…”
Harry nodded, “Oh yeah I had a lot of friends. But I never stayed over at anyone’s and they never came over to mine either. Just… I don’t know. Never happened.”
Placing her nearly empty glass down she turned and waved with a smile as the waitress walked by, “Can we get another round, please?”
“How are you getting home?” Harry asked when she faced him, crossing her leg over her knee toward him.
“Taxi. You?”
“Might walk. I’m not far from here.”
Nodding she placed her elbows on the table, “So, I think that you’ve missed out on an integral right of passage, having never had a slumber party. You should definitely remedy that at some point. I highly recommend a fun sleepover. In fact, if you need pointers on what to do during a sleepover, I’m your gal.”
“Oh yeah? What’s your go-to during a slumber party?” Harry teased before taking another sip of his beer.
“Well, I think there are like two main components. The first is entertainment and I’m always keen on a good movie, or a dumb one, either way… a movie for sure if I’m picking. Some people like to play board games or whatever, but I like to stuff myself into a pile of blankets and pillows and just lie, or drape,” she spoke using her arms to demonstrate herself draping into pillows. “Occasionally, if the mood is right, I’ll enjoy a little truth or dare.”
“Got it. A movie and maybe if the mood is right, truth or dare. And what’s the second component.”
Y/n crossed her fingers together and raised her brows as if she were about to say something very important, “Snacks. Beverages. Good ones. Usually just small bites but here’s my list…” She cleared her throat, “Buttered popcorn, and possibly potato chips. Definitely something chocolatey, and maybe something like a cookie or a snack cake. If not potato chips then tortilla chips and if it’s tortilla chips, salsa should also definitely be on the menu.”
Harry held back the laugh in his throat as he nodded, “Wow. Okay. What about like a burger or Chinese food? Would that be allowed?”
Y/n shrugged, “It’s your party. You can do what you want. I’m just telling you what I’d do and what would be a hit with your sleepover buddy.”
Harry breathed out a laugh. Y/n could tell he was getting bashful. She wondered if he was thinking the same thing she was. She watched him for a few seconds before the waitress returned with their drinks.
A quick gulp of wine and she nudged at his shin with her shoe, “You wanna have a slumber party with me?”
Harry blinked and tilted his head, “What? You mean… Seriously?”
She shrugged, “Why not? Then next time someone asks if you’ve ever had a proper slumber party you can say that you have.”
He laughed loudly, his husky voice was like music to her ears. Pointing at her with his finger he grinned, “Now how I can argue with that? I mean,” he shook his head, a glint in his eye, “Every time someone asks me if I’ve been to a slumber party and I tell them I haven’t, it’s such a disappointment! The look on their faces when they realize my whole childhood was a sham…”
They both laughed, leaning in toward one another, tittering toward the edges of their stools.
Harry tilted his head, “Actually I think it sounds fun. You just name the day and I’ll be there.”
Y/n smiled at him. She knew it was crazy. Having a grown man at her place for a slumber party. Typically adults didn’t have those kinds of sleepovers – it was usually with the intent of something far more salacious. But she’d show him a good time, she thought, raising her glass toward his, “Deal.”
.                 .                 .
Y/n had her sofa bed pulled out and piled high with extra blankets and pillows. She had all her favorite snacks plus she ordered cheeseburgers and fries for the guest of the night. It was silly. Truly she hadn’t had a real slumber party in ages, but she couldn’t help but feel a little bit of excitement that she’d be hanging out with Harry all night. It was possible that her small crush on him was making her feel all giddy but she’d push down that feeling until he gave her any extenuating signals.
Because the truth was that they were both single, young adults and this was such an unlikely scenario. No one would look at this and say Oh how cute of these two grown adults hanging out in bed together for a sleepover. So innocent! No, she knew better. While maybe nothing would actually happen it certainly wouldn’t look innocent.
And of course, she did pick out the perfect pijama set. Something a little more flattering on her body but not too hey I really need to get laid tonight. It was a happy compromise. Cotton shorts and a button-up, matching short-sleeved top. This was just supposed to be a slumber party after all.
Right?
Besides, the little paper invitation she gave him on Monday morning told him to arrive in his sleepwear so she had to look the part. And not to toot her own horn but she made a very cute invitation just for him tucked into a pink envelope with a separate little response card that had space at the bottom for him to mark yes or no if he could come. It was a yes. Obviously.
When Harry finally arrived he was wearing a pair of grey sweats and a white t-shirt. And for some fucking bizarre reason he looked so much hotter than he did when he wore his well-fitted suits at work.
Because goddamn did his shirt somehow just hug his torso in all the right spots and it allowed her to take a good look at all tattoos on his arms that were normally hidden under brushed wool jackets or long-sleeved button-up shirts. She knew he had tattoos. She’d seen him roll up his sleeves a couple of times but she never wanted to be rude and stare for long.
And then the sweatpants, while loose in the legs, fit his waist and hips and…
“You okay?” Harry was still standing in the doorway with his backpack draped over his arm waiting to be invited in.
“Yeah, sorry. Not used to seeing you dressed down like this. Almost unrecognizable.”
Harry let out a soft laugh, his eyes crinkling as Y/n stepped aside to let him in, “Would you like to see my ID? Swear I’m the Harry Styles, the guy you invited over for chips, popcorn, and truth or dare. I’ve even got your invite somewhere in my bag…”
She breathed a laugh through her nose and watched him enter into her space, “Movies too. Oh, and I also ordered cheeseburgers. Remembered that you mentioned that.”
He seemed quite pleased with the burgers as she handed him the bag. She got those small ones, five to an order, “Thanks. Fries too, huh?” He reached into the bag and pulled out three crinkle-cut french fries then stuffed them into his mouth.
“So should we settle in and pick out a movie?” She gestured toward her couch.
Harry had seen the pull-out couch with heaps of pillows and blankets when he walked in. He knew that that would be where they’d be spending most of the evening. It was the glaring thing about the whole slumber party slash sleepover. That they’d be probably sleeping next to one another. As two young, healthy, attractive adults.
“Sure,” he nodded and waited for her to pick which side she was going to take before climbing in next to her, the thin mattress and metal frame giving way gently under his weight before he leaned back against a mountain of pillows, bag of burgers safe in his hands.
Y/n had a few video streaming services at the ready and they settled on a cheesy comedy from the late 90s before Y/n reached over to her coffee table and then lined up all the snacks between them.
They chatted a little, having both seen the movie already. Topics were anything from what their plans were for the rest of the weekend to what they’d eaten for lunch at work. And it was only a little awkward when they both reached into the bowl of M&M’s at the same time, fingers brushing together.
Harry moved his hand away, “Sorry. You go…”
Y/n grinned at him, scooping a handful of candy into her palm, and then sat up, adjusting her seating as she crossed her legs together, “Wanna do truth or dare? Pretend like we’re 15 again having a sleepover. Really get into the whole slumber party vibe, ya know?”
Harry dug out a few M&M’s and let out a chesty laugh, “If I’m 15 again we’re in big trouble.”
Y/n snorted a laugh, “Why? What do you mean?”
He shook his head, a wide grin on his face with deep set dimples carved into each cheek as he turned his head to look at her, “If this were happening when I was 15 I’d already be in the bathroom hyperventilating and probably trying to will away a boner after our hands touched in the M&M’s bowl.”
Y/n guffawed and threw her head back, nearly choking on her bite of chocolatey candies as Harry laughed with her. Honestly, it was the best icebreaker she could have asked for. Things had been kind of clunky between them up until that moment as they were still trying to navigate how to act around one another. And she knew he was teasing but the good belly laugh that she got from Harry’s story was exactly what they needed.
“Okay fine. We’ll just keep going about it as adults then. No fifteen-year-olds here tonight,” Y/n chuckled as she shoveled a few kernels of popcorn into her mouth.
Y/n kept her eyes on him as she chewed her mouthful, “So truth or dare?”
Harry cocked his head at her, “So the mood is right then? For truth or dare?”
Y/n’s brows furrowed, “The mood?”
“Yeah. You said it over drinks. Remember when you were telling me what the most important components are to a sleepover and you said you liked truth or dare if the mood was right.”
Nodding slowly, she thought back to what she’d said, “Yeah. I guess I did say that. And I mean… I think the mood’s right for a little truth or dare. Movie’s almost over and you just pretty much kicked us off with that truth.” A breathy laugh was pushed from her mouth.
She could tell Harry was mulling on another question as he bit the inside of his cheek, head tilting in agreement, “So that means it’s your turn. Truth or dare?”
Biting her lip as she pondered, she pressed her back into the soft pillows behind her, “Truth.”
Harry shifted to his side, long legs stretching the length of the mattress as he propped his head up in his hand, a pillow under his arm, “Have you ever kissed a co-worker before?”
Scoffing Y/n moved to her side, mimicking Harry’s position on her side, “No,” she grinned. It was true. She’d never once done anything with any of her coworkers. Having Harry over at her house was the closest she’d ever gotten to doing anything like that. “Now you. Truth or dare?”
His green eyes slid over her features, “Truth.”
She laughed to herself, trying to think of something funny, “How many stuffed animals do you own?”
Licking his lips he nodded, “Think maybe two? Gifts from my niece… Truth or dare?”
“Mmm… dare,” she giggled.
Harry lifted a brow, “Ahhh… feeling bold yeah? Okay… hmm…” He pursed his lips to the side as he considered the dare. “Read to me the last text you sent to anyone. And you have to show me to prove it was the last one. And it can’t be any texts you and me, cause that’s not fair.”
Y/n blinked. She wasn’t exactly sure what her last text was besides Harry. But she was slightly worried because if it was what she was thinking… lifting up her message app she scrolled down to the text thread below Harry’s and it was a text with her sister. Which was what she had been worried about. She gulped, hoping that the things she said about her “coworker” who was coming to stay with her weren’t the last things she and her sister texted about.
Puffing out a breath she covered up all the previous texts to show Harry the last text from her sister – God knows you need it. Sending you good vibes, sis ;)
Harry squinted as he looked at the message and pointed, “That’s to you. The dare was to show me the last text you sent to someone. Let’s see it…”
Feeling her neck heat up she angled the phone away from him and read what she’d sent her sister. And there was no mention of Harry but if he were even halfway decent at picking up clues he might be able to figure out what was being discussed prior.
She shook her head and looked up at him. She couldn’t believe she was about to show him what was on her screen. But a dare was a dare. What was the worst that could happen?
lol I doubt anything will happen but I wouldn’t turn him down. Got condoms just in case 😜 send all your good vibes my way
Harry’s brows squished together as he looked at the text and back to Y/n and then down again at the words on her screen. She saw his throat bob and she knew the look on his face. He fucking knew what that was. He had to know.
She had to look away. She pulled the phone down and killed the screen. The awkwardness between them thick and uncomfortable as she peeked back at him. The edge of his mouth was pulled upward in a smirk, “That’s to your sister?”
Nodding she blew out an exasperated breath, “Your turn. Truth or dare?”
Harry grinned as he positioned his knee closer to Y/n, his eyes still on hers, “Dare.”
Swallowing her embarrassment down the best she could she decided to ask him the same, “Now show me the last text you sent anyone besides me.”
Harry’s smartass grin told her all she needed to know. That his last text probably wasn’t nearly as risqué as hers.
And it wasn’t. Not even close.
You can have two pounds for free. I’ve got so many growing I can’t keep up. As long as you come to pick them up on Monday they’re yours.
“I have a bunch of zucchini growing in my garden,” Harry pulled the phone away and laid it down next to his hip. “Got a neighbor who wants some.”
Of course, his last text to anyone was about zucchini. Jesus, she was so far out of her depth.
He was still wearing that shit-eating grin as he said, “Truth or dare, Y/n?”
And the way he said her name, all slow and sexy-like had her insides heating up. Well, maybe she made up the sexy part but he was definitely teasing her. She could just feel it.
“Truth.”
She was sure she’d regret that. Truth or dare. It didn’t matter. She was still reeling from showing him her texts.
“Was that text about me?” Shit-eating grin in place as he asked. Fucker.
Y/n’s eyes grew wide dropping her mouth open in surprise. Of course, he was going to ask that. Of course!
“Oh come on, Harry…” she pleaded.
He lifted his brows and awarded her a larger grin with those cute indents scoring into his cheeks, “Them’s the rules, baby. You chose truth and now you have to be honest.”
Clearing her throat she sat up to her bottom and leaned forward so she didn’t have to look at him as she put her head in her hands and laughed in disbelief, “Jesus. Seriously?”
“Yep. Spill. Let’s hear it.”
“Okay. Fine. Yes. It was about you.”
Keeping her eyes on her lap she waited for a smug remark. Some kind of teasing reply but it was quiet. Slowly she turned to look back at him and he was still lying on his side, head in his palm as he watched her, his eyes fixed to hers.
She shrugged, “Your turn. Truth or dare?”
Harry flattened his lips and squinted at her before cocking his head, “Hold on… Really? That was about me?”
Sighing she rolled her eyes, “Yes. Sorry. I was… it was just funny… it was me joking around with my sister is all.”
He blinked and looked down at the space between them as he nodded, “Okay. I see. So you didn’t actually mean it?”
“Well… I guess… We were joking. Obviously, nothing has to happen. I would never expect that. I…” she breathed out exasperated.
“Obviously nothing has to happen. Did you want it to happen?” His pupils were pinned to hers again.
Opening her mouth she stopped herself for a moment. She knew her answer was yes but she didn’t want to come off like a creep. She hadn’t expected it and assumed it wouldn’t. But the truth remained; she hoped it would happen.
Deflating her posture she laid back to her side to face Harry, tucking a pillow into her chest, “The truth is that I think you’re attractive and I haven’t been with anyone in kind of a long time and… she knows that, my sister. So we were just… it was lighthearted but yeah I mean… without any expectations, cause I would never… I hope you know that. But I did think it would be nice.”
“Nice. Yeah. I agree. It would be nice. And just so you know,” he swung his head to look over his shoulder before looking back at her, “I brought condoms as well. You know… just in case.”
She was a bit stunned at that. Was he…
“Dare me to kiss you,” he grinned, irises dropping to her lips for a second before looking back into her eyes.
She laughed, “That’s not how the game works. The rules are you can’t–”
“Fuck the rules. Dare me to kiss you.”
Shaking her head with a wide smile stretched across her face she felt like her skin was pricking as her heartbeat picked up. She couldn’t believe this was actually happening.
Looking back into his eyes she inhaled deeply, “Fine. I dare you to kiss me.”
Harry’s smirk was unreal. The way he dragged his gaze over her face and down to her mouth was almost lewd, “Didn’t need to play truth or dare to get me to kiss you, Y/n,” he scooted in, grabbing the pillow she had tucked into her chest and tossing it away before he drew a hand up to her face, “You just needed to ask.”
She held her breath as he closed in slowly until it was as if all the tension in the room had popped and fizzled when his lips met hers.
He was so soft and gentle. Lips winding easily, carefully at first. And then she parted her lips more, kissing him back and letting her mouth press into his bottom lip before their tongues were meshed.
She moved her knee out to stabilize herself and knocked over the bowl of popcorn between them. Laughing into his mouth she gasped as she parted from him but he only reached for her again, placing his palm at the back of her head to pull her mouth back against his with a grunt from his chest as he pushed the bowl away and drove his arm underneath her side to keep her from getting too far.
Harry was softly moaning as his tongue worked its way into her mouth gently. It was clear he’d wanted to kiss her. That he liked it. And that notion made her head spin combined with the feel of his thumb traveling over her jaw. There was not going to be any stopping the momentum that had begun.
Well, except for when the bowl of M&M’s poured out against her leg. She had to push at him. As much as she would have loved to have kept making out, she would not have been able to enjoy melted chocolate on her legs or the bedsheets tucked around the mattress (think of the scrubbing she’d need to do!).
“Sorry,” she panted and looked down at the smashed pieces of popcorn and the chocolate candies strewn between them, “I’ve gotta pick this up. Our body heat will melt all these and it’s gonna be a big mess.”
Harry grinned, “Why don’t we just move this party to your bed for a little bit? Clean up later? The M&M’s won’t melt if we’re not laying on them.”
She laughed, already feeling overwhelmed and overheated from the kiss and now he was suggesting taking it to her bed? This was really happening, wasn’t it? She nodded and they both moved off the sofa sleeper to their feet, Harry following behind Y/n as she led him to her bedroom.
She already had her bedside lamp on. Bed made perfectly, everything tucked in and neat.
She turned to look at him and he stepped against her, palm splaying at her low back, “I dare you to get onto your bed and take your clothes off.”
A small laugh burst from her chest, “Oh, so now we’re just doing dares?”
He nodded, “Making up our own rules for this game. S’more fun this way.”
Letting go of her he watched as she stepped backward toward her bed and began to unbutton her nightshirt until it was shed from her body before she pushed her shorts down her legs. She was left in a pretty white bralette (something soft for bedtime) that stretched around her breasts and a pair of thin cotton panties that matched. She kneed up onto her bed and let her feet dangle off the edge and pointed, “Now I dare you to take off your clothes.”
He peeled his white t-shirt off, his hair mussing in the process. She watched with her lips parted at the gorgeous man stripping before her. Not only was he built exactly like what she dreamed of (tattoos, beefy, muscular, a touch soft, very masculine) but the boner tenting his sweats was hard not to home in on.
Harry stuck his fingers into the waistband and looked up at her, “M’not wearing any underwear, so be warned…”
She swallowed as the material lowered, belly button, happy trail, a bit of dark hair and then he pulled the stretchy waistband away from his body so his cock could push free and she was already clenching at just the sight as he removed his sweatpants, cock full and heavy between his strong thighs.
Jesus Christ.
Harry stepped forward, nudging himself between her knees and she leaned back to look up at him, “I dare you to take off the rest of this. Since I’m completely naked feels only fair.”
She bit her lip and looked down at his girthy dick. He was clearly not shy of his body, standing there like that, cock right in front of her. But why should he be shy when he looked like that?
Scooting back further into the bed she got up to her knees and pulled the bralette off first, feeling the heat of his gaze on her tits as she then slid her panties down her thighs. She wasn’t nearly as confident as Harry was as she quickly pulled at her top blanket and covered herself with a small laugh.
Harry stepped forward, one knee on the mattress before climbing in next to her, nosing at her cheek softly before his lips were connected to hers again. And she melted into him just like before. His mouth was magic or something because before she realized it, he’d pulled the blankets off her body and he had a big palm sliding up her thigh and over her hip, “Don’t cover up. So pretty. Knew you would be.”
She pushed her fingers into his thick wavey hair and felt her side hit the mattress as Harry pulled at her again, mouth still smeared against hers. He grabbed at her thigh, hitching it over his hip as he tucked in closer and it was warm and she could feel it. Feel him against her hip.
His giant hand smoothed against her bottom and up her spine until he was wrapping his long fingers around the back of her neck. Y/n nudged in closer, driving her hips forward until she was practically straddling him. So Harry took that as his cue to move to his back, taking her hips in his hands so she’d follow with him.
It had caught her off guard, the sudden change in position but her lips never stopped moving with his. Their kisses were wet and she could smell their saliva, and a touch of onion even from the burgers he’d eaten.
He guided her hips down, his thick cock hot under her thigh until she felt her pussy drag against warm skin at the base of his dick. A small gasp escaped her mouth as he pulled her up, letting her pussy glide up his length, “So wet already, Y/n…”
She was. It was embarrassing. Every inch of his shaft her pussy dragged against, coated him, wetted his skin. He kept pushing and pulling at her hips, using her slippery pussy like a soft wet toy he could run up and down his length.
Then she felt his fingers move around to her backside, digits sliding against her pussy as he licked into her mouth.
Gently she rolled against him and when she moved herself further down he pushed a fingertip inside, “Go on. Fuck yourself on my finger a little bit,” he whispered against her mouth.
He was filthy. She had no idea. He’d always been so sweet at work. So polite and respectful. But here he was reaching around her ass to get a finger inside of her cunt as she rubbed her pussy over his cock.
She panted into his mouth as she slid down around his finger, her clit smushed into his dick, slippery as she rolled up and down. But then he began to assist as he added another finger and began to fuck into her pussy, letting his digits curve into her the best he could from his angle. Slushy wet, she stopped moving her hips and parted from the kiss as she looked down at him. She could tell she was gushing all over his palm and probably his dick as she moaned.
“S’that feel good. You’re gettin’ my fingers all wet like it feels good.”
Nodding she gasped, “Yeah. Feels so good…”
Harry rutted up against her, his cock still pressed into her clit, and she panted, eyes still searing into his. She didn’t want to look away. She almost couldn’t believe he was in her bed fingering her like that.
“Your turn to dare me to do something. What do you want, Y/n?”
She moaned and closed her eyes. She was certain of what she wanted as she listened to the way his fingers gushed with each plunge into her.
“Fuck… dare you to… put on a condom.”
She popped her eyes open to peer down at him as he slid his fingers out of her, wiping her arousal on her ass, “They right here?” He moved his hand toward her bedside table, a knuckle tapping at the wood.
Climbing off of him she opened the drawer, “Yeah, a whole box. Hold on…”
Reaching over to pull out the condoms she felt Harry’s hands on her hips as he moved to sit up, then his lips were on her back, dotting warm kisses to her shoulder blades as she finally plucked a condom from the fresh box.
She watched him put the condom on and as expected, it didn’t cover his entire length. He was kind of a big guy. Well, maybe there was no kind of about it. Before today she had no idea he was packing like that. Though he always did come off as very confident and sure of himself.
She bit her lip as she watched him toss the wrapper away and then he kneed up to her, arm sliding to her back and carefully lowering her to the bed before spreading her legs apart as he fit himself there, sturdy thighs pushing against her soft ones.
“Gonna tell your sister her good vibes worked?” He smirked down at her, hands scouring her hips and tummy and then kneading softly at her tits.
Y/n laughed and reached a hand down to his knee before he pulled at her, making her thighs drape over his as he inched in closer.
“Hmm?” He was awfully teasing, she thought, grinning at her waiting for an answer.
“Probably,” she spit out in a laugh.  
Harry gripped at her thighs, lifting her a bit more to fit her bum over his bent knees and she wanted to scream in embarrassment when she realized he was inspecting her sodden vulva. She’d gotten herself all tidied up for him, should anything like this happen, so at least she had that going for her.
He smoothed his thumb through her pussylips, spreading them apart, and softly blew out a breath, “That is very pretty. Think we get him in there?”
She rolled her eyes as she watched him wrap his palm around his base and lay his fat cock over her mons, the condomed-tip reaching to her belly button, maybe further past, “Well, it’s made for it, so I’m pretty sure–”
“What… your pussy’s made to fit around my cock?” A cocky dimpled smirk gave way to a laugh.
“You know what I meant. It’s meant to… like…” she breathed out a laugh.
“Oh, I know… just fucking with you, Y/n.”
He gazed at her as he reared back, painting his cockhead through her labia, up and down, a soft bump into her clit before he repeated, spreading her soft lips apart as he watched the way his crown smeared her arousal between her creases.
When she moaned and wiggled her hips he pointed himself right at her little muscle, nudging softly forward, opening it up for himself. And she felt that first push, the way his tip fit into her, spreading apart and then stretching to accommodate his circumference.
“Oh god…” she breathed as he slipped in halfway and then pulled back.
“Almost there,” he panted as he kept his eyes on where they were connected, pushing and pulling back until she was swallowing him whole, his cock enveloped in her soft, warm pussy.
When he’d buried in whole, he moaned and watched her face twist up in ecstasy. Her lips were dropped open and her neck stretched long as she grasped onto the forearm of the hand he had gripping her waist.
Slowly he began to thrust, viscous liquid seeping from her pussy and sticking to his shaft. It was filthy. She was so wet that every time he bottomed out there was a splat and a plap sounding between them.
She let out a deep moan and her lips curled up, humid breath escaping her mouth as she felt him driving into her guts. He was taking it easy. Languidly fucking into her with wet claps every time he plunged in.
When her cunt was taking him easier and she was dripping down to her ass he moved in a little harder, faster. Angling himself over her, a palm down on the mattress so he could work into her with more gusto.
“Ah! Harry…” she squeaked at the stronger thrusts and clung onto his lats. He was panting, lips parted and pink, a curl falling over his forehead as he plowed into her splooshing pussy.
“Fuck you’re wet. Pussy is gushing, Y/n…”
Her brows pushed together as she gasped, her body knocked upward every time his hips met hers making her tits bounce. Harry didn’t know where to keep his focus. He loved watching his cock disappear into her hole but he kind of liked being right over her so he could see her face crinkle up every time he bottomed out and then her pretty breasts sway up and down. Or maybe he’d like to fuck her from behind, watch her ass jiggle as he pounded into her.
“Mmm… fuck that’s big!”
Harry groaned, “Yeah? Sure know how to sweet talk a man don’t you, pretty? S’hurt?”
She watched his face, a lusty grin, droopy eyelids as he continued muscling his way in deep.
She hissed when he bucked in, as if he was showing off just how deep he could push in and she coughed out, “Mmm… a little!”
Harry was going to lose his mind with her if she kept squeaking out moans and splatting around his cock like she was but he would be a gentleman and pull back a touch. Slowing down a little he sat up and moved his hand between them, smushing his thumb into her clit, which was so sticky wet even that swished and slid under the pad of his digit.
“Yessss…” she breathed out before murmuring on about how good it felt. “Oh fuck, that’s it. Oh god… please don’t stop… Harry, fuck, yes…”
The clit. The magical little nob that worked wonders as long as the man knew where to find it. Clearly, Harry knew right where it was. Knew how to circle over it, pressing against it just right. Knew how to fuck into her as well. Sliding his length through her vaginal walls, spreading her open, and grazing against her gummy little spot on the inside that had her buzzing and liquifying for him.
He watched her whine and squirm under him, loving how she was so into it. God that was an ego boost, “Like that, Y/n? Gonna come for me? Yeah?”
Her ears were already ringing when she lost herself, gripping around him and crying out as her orgasm washed through her tummy. Harry’s cock made her feel so full, so incredibly stuffed to the brim that it weighed her down and she could hardly move as he bulldozed into her, the pad of his thick thumb smushing fast circles over her throbbing nub.
Fucking her through it he gasped at how she spasmed and milked around him, her pussy trying to siphon his come right through his condom. But Harry wouldn’t come just yet. He had something to prove. Wanted to make a show of his prowess and give her something to tell her sister about.
So when she was finally calmed and her pussy wasn’t clamping around him like a vice grip he slid his hand under her head and kissed her gently, speaking low and soft against her lips, “Gonna have you flip over, okay? Just need a little more yeah?”
When he parted from the kiss she blinked up at him, fluttering lashes and out of breath, “You didn’t come?”
He shook his head, pulling himself out, gently before he placed his hands on her hips, “Not yet. I will soon, though. M’right on the edge. Won’t take me long.”
She rolled to her side as he lifted her hips and helped her get to her tummy. She felt his hands on her ass, squeezing and rubbing each meaty globe in his big palms. Then he was straddling her thighs as he spread her gently and she felt him push his thick tip back into her pussy, sharp and hot. It was tighter, felt a lot fuller like that as he began driving in deep and then pulling out to his tip, before plowing back into the hilt.
His moans grew louder and, even he could admit, sounded quite whiny, pathetic. He was shaking as he watched his dick spread her in half, her soft ass jiggling as he smacked into her, skin patting, his cock leaking precum steadily into his condom.
He hissed when it felt too good. His balls squeezing and his fat dick throbbing inside of her. He thrusted forward, landing a palm down next to her shoulder, his chest pressed into her back as he rutted himself in, tucking his cock through her insides and puffed out a hot groan into her ear, “Fuck you feel good. Gonna make me come, baby…”
She moaned and nodded, “Come for me, Harry…”
He might have held out for another thirty seconds, possibly a minute longer but her breathy words, all sultry and pleading had him pumping into his condom in an instant. He gargled on a moan and squeezed his eyes closed as he buried in and stilled his hips, ass flexing so he could push in further if it were possible.
Y/n felt him crushing her back as he collapsed over her, panted breaths in her ear, cock still throbbing in the aftermath of his orgasm.
She didn’t mind it. Liked his weight on her like that. Enjoyed the way he seemed just as fucked out as she was. She could even feel his heart pounding in his chest against her back.
With a moan, she turned her head and nuzzled her face into her blanket with her eyes closed. She’d fall asleep that way if he couldn’t get up. It was quite warm and comforting. Like a weighted blanket draped over her body. And maybe she did doze off for a bit because when she opened her eyes she felt him moving off of her before he crashed down next to her, the springs in her mattress bouncing under him.
Pushing herself to lie on her side she ran a hand over his chest and he turned to look at her, a dopey smile on his flushed face, “So this is what happens at slumber parties, huh? I’ve really missed out all these years.”
She giggled and nodded into her pillow, “Yep. They’re just like big orgies really. Normally there are more than just two people. It’s how I lost my virginity.”
Harry sputtered a laugh, “Really?”
Y/n couldn’t help but to cackle loudly and roll to her back, the biggest grin on her face, “No, silly. I was teasing.”
He slid a hand over her tummy, “So this isn’t what happens at slumber parties, then?” She could hear the cheeky smile in his voice.
She turned her head to look at him, “Well, not usually. But I think we made our own rules for this one today.”
“Yeah? Well, I have to give it to you. You throw a hell of a party. I’m certain this is gonna go down as the best sleepover in history.”
. . .
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incognit0slut · 10 months
Text
All I Need
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Spencer realizes how much he wants to spend the rest of his life with you. What better time is there to propose if not in the middle of making love? Based on:
Warnings: 18+ mature content but nothing too explicit, this is just sweet love making
words: 2077
A/n: I’m supposed to finish my last kinktober and update my series, but both are very heavy and I needed something sweet to defrost my writer's block. I hope you don’t mind me squeezing something else until I finish my other WIPs🥲
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“…every time I look into your eyes I see it, you’re all I need…”
SPENCER KNEW EVERYTHING ABOUT YOU. There wasn't a single thing he wasn't familiar with—from every mole, every scar, to every stretch mark. Any imperfection you considered of yourself he found to be perfect.
He was well aware of the small scar on your hip bone. Or the mole resting at the back of your thigh. Or the way you disliked caffeine, because every time you drank it, it increased your heart rate drastically. Which was why you always judged him every time he had a cup of coffee in his hand, especially with the amount of sugar he never seemed to stop adding.
"That is definitely not healthy," you would always say, to which he simply responded with a small peck on your lips. It was his way to shut you up without saying anything.
He also knew how soft you actually were underneath that hard exterior you always carried. You were an enigma the first time you joined the team, but Spencer always had a soft spot for mystery, and solving you became his mission even when he wasn't the best at maintaining conversations. He remembered making a fool of himself when he talked to you, stuttering about one of the random facts engraved in his brain.
But you still listened to him, and for once in his life, he finally found someone who didn't mind hearing him talk. It was nice to have somebody who found his knowledge interesting, and with that thought in mind, it didn't take long for him to take an interest in you.
Not that he wasn't interested at first, because honestly, you were a splendid sight when you first walked through the door. It was more so an interest that was considered surpassing a simple friendship. An interest that had him push his confidence into asking you out.
Spencer never pegged himself as someone who would be content having a significant other in his daily routine—his past relationships never seemed to work out, after all—but the more time he spent with you, the more he realized he was actually in pure bliss. It seemed as if you had cast a spell, drawing him deeper into your presence, a magnetic force of affection that went beyond the superficial. Every smile, every touch, seemed to emanate a radiant heat, and he couldn't help but be entranced by the sheer magnitude of your warmth.
Especially at this moment, staring into your eyes as they slowly fluttered open from a long night of slumber, he found himself leaning forward. You were so warm, so inviting. The soft light coming from the curtains cast a shadow over your curves and he couldn't help himself from trailing down your body.
You were fully awake now as he pressed his lips on every part of your skin. The slight movement of your arms wrapping around his neck had him grunting, and somehow he was suddenly positioned between your legs, pressing his hot length onto your wet folds, wanting nothing else but to push himself deep into your warmth.
As he watched you beneath him, eyes half closed, mouth open in anticipation, he couldn't help but mutter his next words because you looked breathtakingly beautiful. Heavenly gorgeous covered in a sheen of sweat, so damn pretty with eyes full of desire. You looked like a siren, an angel, and a lustful woman all rolled into one.
Everything about you was so divine, and the desire to consume every part of your existence became an insatiable hunger. It was a need, a yearning that made the idea of spending a lifetime without you seem unfathomable as if oxygen slowly drained from his world, leaving him breathless. 
The words bubbled up from the depths of his heart, and before he could second-guess himself, he blurted out, "Marry me." 
Your eyes snapped open as he finally sank his hips into you, and before you could even respond, before you could even register his words, his rough thrust stole the breath from your lungs. Rational thoughts shattered as he filled you completely, stretching you in a way that was slightly painful yet completely pleasurable.
He slowly pulled out, then pushed back in, your back arching, legs wrapping around his waist. "Spence," you moaned as he started a steady pace, trying to gain your focus but failing miserably. You couldn't think of anything else except the sensation between your legs. "Oh, God."
Languid and smooth, his hips continued to roll into you. "This feels good, doesn't it?"
The feel of his cock sinking in and out of you had your head falling back against the mattress. Your fingernails tightened upon his back, and he drove you gently into the bed with low grunts. His voice was rough, broken by focused breaths. "We could do this every morning."
A whine broke out of you.
"I'd wake up first," he told you. "I'd make you breakfast in bed..." He slipped out again before thrusting into you slowly, dragging his cock along your inner walls that had you mewling. "...right after I wake you with my tongue between your thighs."
You let out another moan. He drank in the sound with a smile before lowering his mouth to the base of your neck. Heated kisses trailed along your skin as his fingers trailed down the outline of your body before they stopped at the warmth between your legs.
Your mouth was wide open against his shoulder, eyes watering with the force of pleasure from having his cock smacking through your wetness, his body forcefully shoving your knees apart. You felt his fingers trailing your clit in slow circles and you arched your back, each tender brush tightened that coil of heat simmering in the pit of your stomach. The simulation drove you further into a haze of pleasure that a soft yes finally escaped your lips without you realizing it.
The barely whispered word didn't go unnoticed by him.
"Yes to this," he wondered as prompted his weight on his other hand. "Or to my proposal?"
You glanced up at him, your face a mixture of pleasure and alarm as you gave him a look. "You're crazy."
He watched you closely, mesmerized by the way your hips were bucking every time his cock hit that soft spot inside you while his fingers continued their tease. "Maybe." He leaned down and softly bit your shoulder. "But I am crazy in love with you."
When you didn't respond, he slowly pulled away and fixed his gaze on you. Your reaction, or lack thereof, spoke volumes, and as his eyes met yours, he found himself captivated by the reflective pools of emotion within. There was a hint of fear and concern, shadows that danced with the flicker of uncertainty. Yet, beneath those layers, he could see the distinct longing in your eyes. It was hard not to distinguish it as it matched the same look in his. Your stare was warm and domineering.
They were so full of love.
And that moment, Spencer realized, that was what you were to him—love. You were the greatest passion he had ever known.
You felt completely in the moment with him as you let your gaze scan over his features. His eyes appeared darker in this light of the room, but you could still see the soft lightness of them. Then, you leaned up, noses brushing gently against each other before you pressed your lips onto his. His body moved again in response, hips bucking into you and you felt him pulsing inside your core as his mouth worked harmoniously along yours.
"Marry." Thrust. "Me." Thrust.
You whimpered. Everything was too much. The intensity of the pleasure was almost intoxicating, a heady concoction that wrapped around you, rendering you momentarily breathless.
"Having you for the rest of my life is a privilege." He continued, grunting as you clenched around him. He lost himself with one final, jagged plea. "Marry me and make me the happiest man alive."
His words, touch, and the stroke of him inside you—it all blurred together. It pushed you so wildly that the coil in your stomach twisted sharply through along your body. He lunged down to kiss you again, tongue pushing deep as he stole your moan before it could break into the air. He tugged you into him at the same time that you submitted to his pull.
There were times when you would appreciate this. The contact, the intimacy, the warmth of your boyfriend connected with you. Right now though, you needed release. So you buried your hand in his curls, all messy and askew.
"Spencer," you breathed out against his lips. Each of his thrusts fed the growing flame in your body as your body turned pliant for him. “Oh god, yes,” you cried, head thrashing side to side as your eyes rolled back, overwhelmed by pleasure.
He peppered kisses over your neck, your jaw, your temple, desperate to be even closer to you, to melt into you. "Yes to what?"
Your senses were heightened, every touch and every breath seemed magnified in the intensity of the moment. Your body shuddered with every vicious thrust.
"Yes, yes, yes." A desperate, needy little whine slipped past your lips and you opened your eyes wide to give him a pleading look. "Spencer, please, please."
You were panting, your breath hot and your skin even hotter, and you could barely hear him when he spoke, "Yes to what, Angel?"
Angel. The syllables carried a warmth that resonated deep within your heart. Sometimes you were his Angel. Sometimes you were his Sweetheart. While you cherished the way he expressed his affection, a yearning for more had taken root.
Marry me.
You could be more than his angel. You could be his wife. But it wasn't just about the affectionate words anymore; it was about a promise, a shared future, and you realized as he hovered above you, all sweaty and desperate, that you wanted to feel this bliss every day. How could you not when he fits so perfectly inside you that you could swear he was made for you?
And then you felt it, his hand trailing down your arm before it stopped right along your fingers, intertwining them with his. Your hand clutched onto his as his thrust sped up a fraction—but it was still deep and lazy, enough to make you squirm. His cock was achingly hard inside you and when you clenched down on him, you adored the twitch and resounding moan it drew out of him.
You wanted this for your life. You wanted him every day. You wanted to wake up each morning in his arms, him whispering sweet nothings as he buried himself inside you.
You wanted him so much you would be a fool not to accept his proposal.
"Yes," you breathed out. "I'll marry you."
He grunted against your lips. "Say that again."
His thrusts were now fast and ruthless, his groans filling the room while the sound of skin slapping together echoed with it. Every time you could feel him deep inside you, it brought you closer to that familiar coil in your stomach. It was a heady sensation, an intoxicating blend of desire that quickened your pulse and set your senses ablaze.
"I—shit," you cried out, legs shaking at the pleasure traveling along your body you were starting to wail desperately for your release. "Fuck, baby, I'll marry you."
A sound of satisfaction erupted from him as he kissed you with every ounce of power he had. He kissed you as he had never kissed anyone before. He kissed you deeply, possessively even, and it was messy and rough and probably looked horrific from different angles, but it felt perfect.
You felt perfect. Your lips. Your curves. Your scent. It was as if you were made especially for him. He was fully consumed with you, consumed by you, and yet he couldn't get enough. Though you were beneath him, he was at your mercy, and the fact that you could still have such control over him made his stomach twist even more.
He was so in love with you. He was so sure of it, so sure of this abundance of passion, for Spencer Reid could sometimes be dense when it came to sudden bursts of emotions, but he was not stupid. He wasn't oblivious, nor was he lacking in perception. It wasn't about intelligence or lack thereof, it was simply about the purity of his emotion. 
And he was deeply, unequivocally in love.
.
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queertransetc · 1 year
Text
- ED trigger warning -
Being skinny ruined my life. If you’re thin and think to yourself, “why don’t fat people just lose weight?” Please read this
I was the “ideal fat” in the sense that I did everything skinny people wanted me to do. I tried every diet in the book. I exercised regularly. I worked with doctors and dietitians to figure out the best way to lose weight. But nothing worked. I did everything “right” to lose weight, and my weight stayed the same
But the thin people in my life kept telling me that I wouldn’t be happy, attractive, healthy, etc. until I lost weight. So, heartbroken, I came to the conclusion that anorexia was the only option left. It felt safer than bariatric surgery, and was obviously much more affordable
I became the perfect anorexic. 700 cal a day or less, except once a week I allowed myself 1400 cal. For reference, my body required at least 2800 to maintain weight, and at least 1800 to keep my organs and stuff fully functioning. Still, 700 a day, I persisted because everyone in my life told me weight loss was all that mattered. If dieting didn’t work, anorexia had to
And it did. My weight dropped all the way down to 110 pounds. I was skinny - underweight, even - in all sense of the word. The people in my life saw it as a miracle. The ultimate success story. My mother, my “friends,” my doctors, they all congratulated me on my accomplishment
When I confessed my eating disorder to my doctor, he told me, “that’s not the best way to go about it, but I’m glad you lost the weight.” My mother took pictures of me and sent them to relatives to brag
Okay, great. I was skinny. I did what I set out to do. But there were severe consequences
The most obvious was my joint pain doubled, maybe even tripled, to the point that I couldn’t leave the house without a wheelchair
I also developed several health complications, including fatty liver disease and extremely painful GERD. I had to see a handful of specialists and get an endoscopy because of severe stomach pain
My partner, who was the only person who saw my weight loss for what it was (a horrible thing that only happened because of an eating disorder), convinced me to enter a recovery program
For nearly a year, I relearned how to feed myself. I ate everything I was told to eat, nothing more and nothing less. My diet was 100% in the hands of somebody else
And I gained back every pound I has lost. All of the work to become thin went right out the window. It was proven to me that thinness and health were incompatible with my body. If I wanted to be thin, I had to forgo my physical and mental well-being. And vise-versa
Prior to the anorexia, I never once struggled with binge eating. I was naturally an intuitive eater, and I did a good job of having a well rounded diet. After the anorexia, after recovery, I developed a binge eating disorder. I had spent so long starving myself, that my brain and body got stuck in survival mode, desperate to consume any and all calories out of fear that I might starve again. To this day I struggle with binge eating
I did everything thin people wanted of me. I dieted. I exercised. And when all else failed, I starved myself. Now I have liver disease, stomach issues, and BED. Not to mention the loads of mental issues that accumulated as a result of my weight loss journey. During the throes of my anorexia, I had to be hospitalized for suicidal ideation
When you tell fat people to “just lose weight” you are suggesting they give themselves illnesses for which treatments are not always effective. You are asking fat people to destroy their stomachs and livers. When a fat person loses so much weight that they become skinny, they are likely giving up so much of their health in efforts to be treated like a human being
If you’re thin, do your part. Treat fat people like people before we tear our bodies apart
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atlabeth · 5 months
Text
take my breath away
pairing: spencer reid x reader
summary: you help spencer train for his fitness exam. he kind of just wants to kiss you.
a/n: some fluff (and something short) after i broke my own heart (and my brain) in my last hotch fic! i’m truly in my criminal minds era. enjoy
wc: 1.3k
warning(s): reader is a runner so im sorry to my unathletic friends. but this is all fluff
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“Spence,” you said, unable to bite back your smile, “how are you this bad at running?” 
“I’m—” he held up a finger as he caught his breath and shook his head. “I’m not bad at running. My form… is perfect.” 
“We barely made it a mile in,” you said, and you chuckled as he keeled over, his hands on his knees. “It can’t be that perfect.” 
“It is,” he insisted, on the edge of wheezing. “I’m just unathletic.” 
“You never did sports as a kid?” 
“I graduated high school at twelve,” Spencer breathed. “I was too busy studying. Reading. Doing anything other than sports.” He looked at you and shook his head. “And I’m not crazy like you.” 
Your smile only grew. “You should put your hands over your head. It helps get more air in.” 
“That’s actually a rumor.” He shook his head again. “When you raise your arms, muscles that contribute… to the bucket handle movement of your ribs—” He heaved a sigh, his brows furrowing, and again, you held back a smile. You were sure this was one of his only weaknesses. “—they’re not able to function properly.” 
“Alright, genius,” you said, mockingly but with love. “Recover however you like. You clearly need it.” 
Spencer pouted as he straightened up, his whole face contorted in discomfort. When your boyfriend asked you to help him train for his upcoming fitness test, you didn’t think much of it—you got a full ride through college because of track, and you keep healthy with morning runs, so you were happy to help. 
You’d thought about straight up offering a myriad of times—mostly after bearing witness to his attempts at running in the field. One time, the two of you were paired up to do some interviews, and it ended in a chase. By the time Spencer caught up, nearly dying on the sidewalk, you already had the unsub subdued and cuffed. 
(It took him a while to live that down with Morgan.)
Spencer was gifted at other things, sure—not just everyone is a classified genius with an eidetic memory, and he’s the youngest recruit in history—and you loved him more than anything. But you couldn’t not make fun of him, just a little bit. 
His face was still red, his glasses fogging up a bit from the humidity, and his hair was a mess, so you moved closer in order to brush the stray strands out of his face. 
“Running isn’t my thing,” he said. “Well— fitness isn’t my thing. I’ve got everything else covered.” 
“Oh yeah?” You started smoothing back the strands of his hair, and you offered a crooked smile. “Then why are we out here trying to improve your mile time?” 
“Because it would be nice if Gideon doesn’t have to get all my fitness stuff waived again, and if I want that, I need the help.” His eyes didn’t leave yours, and once you finished, your hands lingered on his cheeks. You nudged his glasses back up to their spot. “And I think I’d run a marathon and die trying if it meant I got to spend more time with you.” 
Your eyebrows rose. “If you want to run a marathon, I could probably get you there. It would take a lot of time together, though.” 
“Please, no,” Spencer breathed. “Just the time together part.” 
You grinned, and you patted him on the cheek before you pulled away. “Running is good for the soul. Why do you think I’m so happy all the time?” 
“Well, this morning you said you were happy because of me,” he said. “Yesterday, it was because we had our first case-free weekend in two months. The other day—” 
“That coffee I had?” you interrupted. 
He nodded. “How’d you know?” 
“Because you made it for me,” you said, “and I love it when you do that.” 
Spencer shrugged. “You do it all the time for me. It’s only fair.” 
“But that’s proof,” you said. “Running does make you happy.” 
“Running does release endorphins, but anyone who likes it is crazy,” he repeated. 
“That doesn’t sound scientifically backed.” 
“The way I feel right now beats science,” Spencer huffed. “And you’re not happy all the time. You frowned 23 times while writing up your last report.” 
You raised your eyebrows. “You were watching me? And counting?” 
He shrugged. “You’re nice to watch.” 
“Very smooth, Dr. Reid,” you said cloyingly. “But flattery won’t get you out of this.” 
“I’m not trying to get out of anything!” he defended. You stared at him, and he held up his hands. “Okay— only halfway. But you are nice to watch. That’s why I’m still here.”
“If you’re watching me while we run, that might be why you’re doing so badly,” you said, amused. 
“No—I think it’s the only thing keeping me going.”
“You don’t really look like you’re still going,” you said wryly. “You should be good at this. You’ve got long legs.” 
Spencer shook his head as he screwed his eyes shut. He let out one last breathy sigh, and you hoped he’d finally recovered. “Also largely a rumor. It’s more about leg strength compared to bodyweight—long legs help with lengthy strides, but you need to generate enough torque to move faster than with shorter legs.” 
You smiled. “You’ve still got facts? Even while you’re dying?” 
“Mostly because Elle’s said it before too. She says I look like a baby giraffe learning how to walk when I run.” Spencer shook his head again. “I think the only thing my height is good for is getting things off of shelves.” 
For once, you tried to reign in your joking. “Is there anything I can do to help? I don’t want this whole thing to be miserable for you. Running should be fun.” 
“We can stop doing this?” he suggested. “I can let go of what’s left of my pride, get all my fitness stuff waived again, and go back to figuring out cases in an air conditioned conference room?” 
You smiled, and you moved closer. “How about this?” 
Spencer opened his mouth to say something, but you pulled him in for a kiss by the front of his shirt, effectively cutting him off. He hesitated for less than a split second, but his hands fell to your waist as he brought you in closer. 
When you let go and moved away, he still had them there, and he was smiling like an idiot. 
“Does that help?” you asked innocently, tilting your head. 
“Yeah,” Spencer said, nodding rapidly. “Uh— yeah. I actually think I could go for another mile now.” 
You couldn’t help but laugh as you ruffled his hair, messing up your earlier work. “I’d love to test that, pretty boy, but I don’t think you can make it another mile.” 
Spencer shook his head. “If you keep kissing me like that, I think I can make it through that marathon you mentioned.”  
“Sure I don’t take your breath away too badly?” you teased. 
“I have some facts for that, but I don’t think they apply.” His lips curved up, and the redness from exertion mixed with his steadily rising blush. “Because you, uh— you did take my breath away the first time I saw you.” 
“I should start calling you loverboy with material like that,” you mused. “Morgan’s annoyed that I took pretty boy from him.” 
Spencer grimaced. “Just thinking of Morgan seeing me like this makes me want to get back at it. I can’t deal with any more of his teasing.” 
“But my teasing’s okay?” 
He frowned. “Of course. It— it’s kind of why I fell for you.” 
“Ah,” you nodded. “That’s why you’re still at this. You don’t like things being handed to you.” 
His cheeks darkened again, and you laughed as you leaned in to peck him on the lips one more time. 
“Alright, loverboy,” you said. “Ready to get back at it?” 
“No,” he said affirmatively. “But I don’t really have a choice, do I?” 
“Not if you want to pass,” you said wryly, and you gestured back at the trail with your head. “But you know what they say—one step at a time.” 
Spencer grumbled, and he shook his arms out again. “Fine. As long as those steps are with you.” 
You smiled. “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.” 
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bunnys-kisses · 6 months
Text
bark, bark, bark
hybrid!john "soap" mactavish
cw: hybrid!au, smut/pwp, heat/rut, breeding, pregnancy, enemies-to-lovers, dog!reader, dog!john, owner!simon, doggy style filth
bunny says: like the fic? leave a comment! really love the fic? request your own!
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"well, aren't ya just a dream." john said as he sat at the kitchen table. his tail swayed from side to side as he looked at you.
you were standing close to your new owner, simon riley. you had a pretty pink collar on and your ears were flat against your head. your arms were crossed and you looked annoyed.
john or 'soap' as simon called him, was a dog. as were you. while your breed was defined and regal. you were certain that simon found john behind a dumpster of a fish n' chips place. but you'd have to get along with your fellow hybrid if you didn't want to end up being re-homed.
john just thought you were perfect, but in as sneering kind of way. almost mocking as he pulled at your floppy ears and your hair. he even got you by the collar once and brought you to the tiled floor of the farmhouse the three of you lived in.
you'd often yip and growl at one another in the living room as you fought over the remote. which often left you both scolded by your owner. if you were on your knees one last time in front of simon while the larger man wagged a finger at you, you were going to put the mutt's throat between your teeth and clamp down.
but then it happened. something you had dreaded, you thought at least simon would've gotten you some birth control shots before you heat took over. you felt some embarrassed, like a fucking idiot because you were leaking all over the bed you slept in.
hybrids slept in beds like any other human, but while simon kept his minimal. yours was covered in all manners of pillows and stuffed animals. which gave you ample room to find something to put between your legs. you covered your mouth with your head as you got on your knees with the pillow between your legs.
you rutted against it, hoping that the fabric would catch your clit through your shorts. you whimpered a little but tightened your hand across your mouth. you hoped that john didn't catch the smell of your heat. the last thing you wanted was for that stupid dog to be smelling your pussy like the animal he was.
"fuck." you muttered to yourself as you found you couldn't get enough friction from the pillow. you peeled of your shorts with the crotch of your panties soaked, and put your legs on either side of the pillow once more and rutted against the edge.
you squeaked a little and panted around your hand as you rolled your hips. heat raced through your body and electricity was shot through your clit from the sensation of the pillow against it. you could only imagine the stain that would be left on the pillow by the time you were done.
your toes curled as you continued to move, you were getting lost in your head as you moved across the fabric. you let out the smalles tnoises and couldn't even stop to hear if you could hear anyone outside your door.
it was why you didn't hear the stealthy john come into your room, or creep towards you in the dark. his nose was in the air as the alluring scent of fertile hybrid filled his brain. you didn't even know he was so close until he pounced onto the bed and shoved you into the mountain of soft objects.
you yelped and tried to kick your legs out in defense, but he kept you pinned rather tightly to the bed. his nose was in your neck as he took a healthy inhale. he groaned and you felt his cock twitch against your bare ass.
you knew your pussy was getting the front of his shorts soaked.
"what do we have here?" he asked, already a little drunk from the scent, "is my girl fuckin' her pillows? bein' bad." he growled against your neck as he pushed you further into the bed, causing your hips to raise higher.
"john!" you yelped.
"that's it, doll. my precious girl. i know i tease ya, but this is worse than anything i've ever done." he said with a dark edge to his tone, "ruttin' in your bed all alone. with your mate."
you melted at the word, you hated him but the lust was clotting your brain from coherent thought. all you could feel about was the heat against you. the larger hybrid up against you.
"please, john." you whimpered, "you can't breed me. get simon."
he kissed at your neck, his fangs nipped against the back of it, he continued to rub up against you, "i don't think so, doll. i think you need me more than you need simon." his voice was low, "you need some cock." he chuckled, "my cock."
you whimpered, "please."
"don't worry, i promise i was a easy pup to rear." he chuckled lowly, "you, me and baby, quite the trio. maybe if we're lucky, we'll have two boys."
you whimpered, in your state the thought sounded alluring. you couldn't imagine alife without john in that moment. even though he bullied you, you couldn't imagine him NOT fucking you in that moment.
"ya like that don't ya, girlie. you like the idea of you being all pregnant with my pups. you'd be a lovely girl like that." he chuckled as he pulled down his shorts under his cock, freeing it.
his cock was impressive, it was large with heavy balls that showed that he'd be a good breeder. he was impressed with it and hoped it would fit in your tight virgin hole.
"here it comes, love." he said, "now be good for me, i want to feel every inch in ya." he chuckled as he guided his cock into your sweet hole, effectively ruining your virginity. he sank into it slowly and felt the air leave his chest.
"ah!" you whimpered as you buried your head further into the stuffed animals on your bed. you exhaled deeply to keep yourself relaxed so you didn't hurt yourself. but his cock was already deep in you.
"holy shit. i wished you went into heat sooner." he growled, "you feel amazin', doll. i could fuck ya forever, give ya a whole bunch of litters to take care of." he chuckled as he puffed his chest out with pride. his cock was a tight fit in you, but it felt so good. you were so wet that he slid in easily, there was no struggle to fuck his little wife.
wife, that was a term he would ever think that he'd call you. but what else would you be? a slut? his fuck hole?" the thought made him chuckle as he started to thrust in and out of you.
your eyes rolled back, his cock soothed the fire in your belly. it was what the primal part of your brain needed. you needed cock, specically HIS cock. it was the only thing that you'd allow in you. you didn't NEED simon, you just needed john to fuck the discomfort away!
easy as that, and john was happily able to do that for you. he would make you feel nice and good. he held you down by your head and you felt hot all over as he thrusted up into you. he growled and tried not to make too much noise to alert his owned.
your breathing was shaky as you clutched onto a pillow under your head. you panted heavily as you felt hot all over. this heat was almost painful and it ran like a current in your body. you felt skittish but drowning in the depths of pleasure.
"ah! please! ah!" you panted, "john, please."
"i got ya, lass." he chuckled, "don't worry. i'll make it all better. don't worry about anything." he continued to thrust in and out of you. he felt hot all over too. his head was clouded with the scent of your want for him.
his heart raced as he felt his t-shirt cling to his chest as he continued to move. you tried to meet his pace but your brain was so empty that you could barely keep up. you had never felt this full before. you whimpered so pathetically, john just knew that he would have to take care of you. after all that was what a husband did.
your lover, your husband, the father to your many, many pups. that was a title he could be proud of. it only fueled him to bury his cock deeper inside of you. the bed squeaked and john breathed heavily through his nose as his hips slapped against your ass.
"pretty thing." he purred, "bein' such a bitch all this time. but i knew better, i knew you wanted me." he chuckled a little, proud of himself that he got to bed the little birdie that has been in his home the past couple of months.
"john." you said lazily, "it feels so good." you panted wildly. you felt like there was a flat line in your head, everything kind of rolled off your tongue without thinking much of it. ypur cutn was soaked, you could feel the wetness all the way down to the back fo your thighs.
"so good." he said, "simon is gonna know how good you were for me. once you're all swollen with my puppies. keep ya nice and fat with litter after litter. i'll make sure nothin' happens to them, our little family." he panted wildly like the dog he was. he threw his head back as his hips bounced against you. his cock pushed in and out of your aching hole.
he would douse the fire in your soul, he'll simmer you down. but in exchange you'll get morning sickness and in nine months squirming hybrids in your arms. you moaned at the thought, you knew you were close to your climax.
"mine. got it?" he said, less like a question and more like a statement as he pulled your head away from the pillows. you gasped for air after being in the heat of the pillows.
you moaned loudly as you felt yourself climax around his cock. further making a mess. he growled in happiness as he gave one last thrust of his hips and he finished inside of you.
the noise must've woken up simon. because when he went into your room, he found you going at it once more. he sighed and made a note to get you some plan b in the morning. he didn't need more puppies roaming the halls of the farmhouse.
he also reminded himself to get you some birth control shots to make sure this didn't happen again.
-
simon's plan failed. it failed pretty badly. because by the time he got the birth control. it was too late, you were pregnant with john's baby. simon was thankful that it was just ONE.
at least you two got along...
"goodamnit, soap!" you shrieked.
there was a commotion in the kitchen. simon sighed and got up from his seat. he saw one very pregnant hybrid and the one who got her pregnant in the kitchen. you two were snapping jaws at one another.
"i wish you'd go back to fuckin'." he grumbled.
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