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gravid-transluna · 6 months ago

Text

In the Name of Science

words: 7627

content: birth denial, clothing birth, mutual birth, fpreg

Co-written with the wonderful and endlessly imaginative @shhhsecretsideblog

First entry into the Spell-verse, a series of stories revolving around a town blanketed by a rapid pregnancy and birth spell.

The news already had coined a name for it. Go figure, Char thought, shaking her head at the display of pure pseudoscience on the screen before her.

“Yes, that’s right,” a reporter spoke. “Emergency services have taken a census and The Spell seems to have affected every person able to bear children in the town.”

“The Spell,” Char scoffed, shaking her head. “Call it a virus, a fluke of biology, whatever. Just don’t chalk it up to magic.”

Because if it was magic, that would mean her science would be ineffectual on the obvious life growing inside her belly, now looking full-term with a baby that she hadn’t been pregnant with this morning. It rippled, hanging low between the scientist’s thighs. She placed a palm on her stretched tummy. The evidence, she thought, speaks for itself.

“Shouting at the tele again Char?” Laura said as she waddled into their lab. Her long white coat hung open at her sides, her own newly formed bump making the coat too small to fit round her frame.

“Got you a coffee.” She passed the hot drink to her boss and went over to sit on the stool by her own workstation. It took a bit of navigating, still not used to this extra weight she now carried, but eventually she plumped herself on the high metal chair.

“I mean, they aren’t wrong calling it ‘The Spell.’ What’s happening here is unheard of. All these pregnancies are popping up very much like magic.” Laura rubbed the circumference of her large belly that now sat heavily atop her thighs. She could feel the baby moving inside, it was so strange. Pregnancy and birth was never something she thought she’d experience. She understood it, she knew all about the process, but it was something else entirely actually experiencing it. And going through it all within the space of a day was a bit of a rollercoaster.

They’d done scans and knew they were carrying human babies, it wasn’t anything supernatural or alien, but it was just the speed, it was unprecedented. The baby in her womb shifted and kicked her in the ribs “Oof!” She huffed. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this.” Laura commented to her boss.

Char nodded, smothering the instinct to cup her own belly as devoted her attention back to her work.

“Hopefully, you won’t have to. We’ll find a way to reverse the process without delivery and things will—“ she paused, startled by a twinge in her stomach muscles and the subsequent squirming of the baby inside her. She cleared her throat. “Things will return to normal and we can take the time to research this phenomenon thoroughly.”

Secretly, Char’s urgency stemmed from another reason—already she’d struggled to adapt to the feeling of her body so unrecognizably changed, the idea of a passenger inside her, her body growing and stretching to accommodate it without any of her say in it. Even the tiniest signs of motherhood she steadfastly resisted, trying not to waddle or hold her heavy mound, wearing her usual lab wear instead of anything more comfortable. Yet—

She knew this was nothing compared to birth. She also knew that they were on a strict time limit. Shaking her head, she dispelled these thoughts. ‘We don’t have to worry about that. All we have to worry about is finding a cure,’ she thought.

“You really think we can find a cure before these babies are born?” Laura asked hesitantly. She knew how her boss was handling this sudden change in their bodies, and it wasn’t very well. Not that she’d admit it. She disappeared quickly into the work when it first started happening to people and completely ignored the signs this morning that it was happening to them both as well.

“I’ve heard that some people are already starting to give birth… we might not have the time. Not before these ones are born anyway.” Laura patted her bump affectionately. She wasn’t fighting this as much as her boss. Yes it was a shock, but Laura was leaning into the experience, it was fascinating.

She noticed her belly start to twinge, felt similar to period pains. Laura shifted in her chair, trying to ease the uncomfortable feeling, her legs widening on the stool to fit her rounded stomach in between. “Have you had any twinges or cramps or anything?” Laura asked.

Char glanced at Laura, absorbing the gravity of her condition, the way her midsection protruded from her open lab coat and her discomfort that so mirrored Char’s own. “Nope,” she lied easily, convincing herself that it was the weight she was now carrying, that the pressure in her hips and the aching of her back was all because of the new load in her belly.

“Well, I’m not exactly hasty to get these babies out the old-fashioned way,” Char said.

A part of her shared sentiments with Laura, though. Call it a scientific curiosity, but the process of birth was quite a marvel. Another cramp seized her belly and she stiffened slightly, bearing it without note. Her own belly hung low, having dropped without her realizing, but Laura’s taut, overhanging swell was immediately apparent to her.

How about you?” She asked while peering into a microscope.

“I’m not sure… I’m feeling something… oof—” Laura took a sharp breath as the ache peaked before easing off again. “It’s probably just my body adjusting to the quick pregnancy. I’m not in a hurry to give birth myself.”

She didn’t want to say it but the rate at which their stomachs had swelled, Laura didn’t think they would have long before the pangs of labor hit. It was difficult to ascertain how “far along” they were, given the speed in the growth, but judging by the bumps alone Laura guessed her and Char were developing at the same rate.

“We better work fast then, before either of us goes into labor.” Or both of us, Laura thought to herself.

Char pressed her lips together at the reminder, and without knowing she palmed the underside of her swollen stomach, attempting to soothe the tightened muscles.

“Yes, right. Could you come over here and we can analyze these lab reports together. Bring the files from the corner bench, please.”

Her back ached, yet she was too restless to sit and besides, she always worked while standing. She’d be damned if she let this baby inside of her intrude on her routine.

“Sure thing.” Laura said to Char’s instruction. Holding her taut stomach, Laura slipped off the stool onto her feet and waddled over to the corner bench to pick up the files.

Standing seemed to have jolted her baby, feeling the weight sink lower into her hips as it kicked. A sudden sharp tightening slashed across her belly causing her to gasp and grab on to the table. “Mnngh!” She groaned as the muscles pulled and squeezed, its intensity surprising.

“Char… hooo… I think I might be having a con-contraction…” Laura panted through the pain, hips instinctively swaying beneath the white lab coat.

Char snapped her head up from the microscope to see Laura doubled over, clutching the table. With her back flat, her weighty belly seemed to strain toward the ground, dragged downward by gravity. Char watched as Laura swayed her hips in an almost hypnotic pattern, as though instinct had taken over. Her panting, even, seemed instinctual, the sounds of an imminent mother.

“Laura? Hey—“ Char struggled to walk without a waddle, across the room to Laura. She was stopped by a squeezing in her tummy that took her breath away, the entire surface hardening painfully. She dismissed it before it even ended. ‘Braxton Hicks,’ she thought. ‘No big deal. I have time…. Laura, I’m not so sure.’

She placed a palm on Laura’s lower back and she breathed and swayed. “You’re okay,” she said, her usual brisk tone softening. “Just breathe.”

“Hoooo-hoooo…..” Laura forced herself to take measured breaths, in and out, breathing through the sudden pain. Her head dipped and her eyes scrunched, the weight and pressure suddenly peaking before gradually fading away. Slowly the assistant straightened back up and faced her friend (?) and boss.

“Jeeze, that was… intense.” She breathed, rubbing the underside of her belly. “I wasn’t expecting that to come on so fast. Guess I’m in labor. I’ll start running a log of all my symptoms so we can add to our research.” She picked up the earlier requested files and handed them to her boss, noticing a slight glistening of sweat on Char’s forehead. “You still doing okay?”

Char nodded, appearing uncharacteristically distracted. She made an effort to straighten her back, feeling the clamping around her womb subside for now.

“Fine,” she said. Then, appreciative of Laura’s dedication to their studies, “Good work, Laura. If it gets to be too much for you, let me know. Until then, we’ll work around the clock and develop a cure before you progress too far.”

And, before I do as well, Char added to herself.

Noting Laura’s significantly widened stance and the way she stroked and circled her dropped belly, Char felt a twinge of apprehensiveness.

As they worked, fighting the clock, Char listened to Laura’s pained breaths become sharper. Eventually she began to vocalize, softly at first, closing her eyes and rocking her body back and forth, making slight grunts and moaning under her breath.

Char wasn’t in a much better state. Her contractions had grown into strong, regular surges and every time her belly seized up she could only focus on it and the baby inside it preparing to be born. Born, she thought. Not if I can help it. Her familiarity with the process and inevitability of birth did nothing to halt this line of thinking. Yet with each contraction she felt like nothing else existed but her swollen, contracting belly. She released a breath after a particularly brutal one. There was so much pressure. She felt it deep in her hips, wanting so badly to open herself up all the way.

Laura let out a pained groan herself, and Char glanced up.

“H-how are you, mm, holding up?” She asked the other laboring woman.

“As w-well as can be expected… hoooo…” Laura held her heavy belly with one hand, the other leant on her workstation as she swayed through the pain. “They are really picking up now Char, oof, the pressure is a lot.”

The lab assistant had abandoned her chair a while ago, finding the most comfortable position was to stand at her desk as it allowed her to follow her body’s rhythm and its instinct to move. Plus the baby was sinking way too low to be sitting down on that ridiculous high stool. She had spent entire days on that chair working before The Spell, but that idea seemed downright ludicrous to Laura now.

Their research seemed to be slow moving, and it wasn’t entirely down to the fact she was in labor, the science just wasn’t providing them with answers, still proving to be a mystery. She’d been keeping track of her contractions, which were getting dangerously closer together and time was running out.

Whilst the waves of pain coursing through her body every five minutes were consuming, Laura wasn’t oblivious to the fact her boss was also struggling. Perhaps it was because of her own labor she could recognise the signs; the way Char kept moving around the lab and never stayed still, her heavy breathing and occasional moan, and the way her hips would shift and bounce when she thought Laura wasn’t looking. Yup, her boss was almost certainly in labor too. But Laura knew better than to ask her outright.

“Are you feeling okay Char? You’ve been on your feet for quite a w-while now..”

Char tried to imagine sitting and found she couldn’t, with the baby dropped so low, the head pressing heavily on her cervix. She knew from the strain in Laura’s voice and her repeated movements around the room that she was feeling the same pressure and slowly increasing urgency. She wanted to moan, openly sway and rotate her hips against the excruciating pressure, to release instinctual grunts with her contractions like Laura. But, not yet. She couldn’t be in active labor.

“Just frustrated,” Char growled. “We’ve barely made progress and this current batch of tests has yielded no results whatsoever…. mmgh!” She winced, closing her mouth so as not to cry out as a contraction clamped her midsection.

“Also,” she added. “I might—urgh, be experiencing some Braxton Hicks.”

“Oh… braxton hicks… okay.” Laura acknowledged calmly, knowing full well there was nothing false about the pains plaguing Char. “Just try and b-breathe through them. They’ll soon pass. You can move around you know, follow your body’s instincts if you need to, I’m sure it would help with the, errr—false labor pains.”

They continued working in relative silence, except from the unusual noises Laura found herself making through the pains. She thought she heard her boss whimper, and asked “Is there anything I can do to h-help?”

Not that she was capable of doing much, the pains were so strong now she could barely do anything other than catch her breath between waves. Laura stayed close to her work bench, not daring to move too far for fear she’d crumble to the floor. Her bump hung heavy and low off her hips, her baby was pressing hard against her cervix clearly marking its exit. A particularly forceful contract had Laura folded over against the bench, forearms on the white surface, hips jutting back, and her head buried in the crook of her elbow. Her groans had turned more primal, the pressure building to the point she almost mooed like a cow. Something was slipping down, she could feel it. With a grunt Laura felt something give and the immediate dampness that followed trailing down her leg.

“Ummm… Char? Hoooo… I think my water broke.” Laura whimpered into her arm, not daring to move.

Char turned when she heard Laura’s animalistic groans and grunts, undeniably the noises of a woman deep in labor. She saw Laura standing wide-legged, a wet patch forming on her lab trousers and puddling the floor beneath her. Her cheeks were flushed with exertion, and Char knew she was feeling the same pressure against her widening cervix as herself, increasingly overcome with the sensation of the head moving into position, the instinctive need to open herself up for the baby getting ready to come out of her.

“Laura—! Hooo um, okay,” Char faltered, taking large waddling steps to Laura and cursing the weight in her pelvis and the unwieldiness of her belly. .Normally in control of the situation, she felt lost at the sight of Laura’s waters puddled on the floor. This was an uncontrollable variable. No matter how much they wanted to keep their babies in, once their bodies decided it was time there was little they could do. But Char wasn’t ready to give in yet.

“I’ll, mmgh, find you some towels,” she promised Laura.

In the hallway she suffered another contraction, and found herself vocalizing freely without Laura around, lowing insistently and arching her back. Without knowing, her knees bent slightly, beginning to sink into a squat. She realized what she was doing and tried to hold herself upright against the hallway wall, but by then the contraction was upon her and she felt a sudden burst of fluid from between her legs.

“Oh…. shit,” she murmured, panting hard.

When she returned with the towels, she met Laura’s gaze and knew that they were both feeling the urgency of birth. They were almost out of time.

The contraction had waned when Char left the room and Laura slowly righted herself and breathed quietly, taking stock of the situation, letting her body adjust and working with the new sensations. The baby was definitely on its way, there was no doubt about that. The breaking of her waters had helped ease the excruciating pressure which had been building, but Laura became more keenly aware of the shape of the baby in her womb without its cushioning.

Taking deep and steady breaths, Laura tried to calm her mind and body. It was during this almost meditative state that she heard the unmissable sound of a woman in deep labor from the corridor. She knew exactly who it was.

Char was a very methodical woman, set in her ways, but she was strong and determined which was a necessity in this field of work. Laura respected her immensely. But it was no surprise to the assistant that her boss was fighting this and seemingly was fighting it to the very end. At some point Char would admit she was in labor, she would have to if she was going to birth her baby. Laura just hoped she would be able to help Char through it when the time comes, and not be consumed by her own birth.

When Char came back she was flushed and sweaty, but gritted a smile as she passed Laura a towel. Laura noticed her boss kept one for herself… strange.

Laura threw the towel on the floor and used her foot to wipe the liquid that was now puddled at her feet. Her trousers were wet but she didn’t want to take them off, she might have known Char for years but wasn’t quite ready to be walking around half naked in front of her boss.

“This baby is definitely coming, I can feel its head right down in my pelvis.” Laura announced, cupping the underside of her large swell almost trying to hold it up. “How are you holding up Char through your… practice contractions?”

Even without her announcing it, Char could tell how close Laura was to birthing her baby, her stance and dropped belly unmistakable as signs of her imminent birth. Laura, she knew, was dependable, and though Char would rarely admit it, she relied on Laura and her stability and her easier personality tended to balance Char’s own stubbornness. Her patience was beginning to wear Char down, and she almost admitted then. The head was huge against her dilated cervix, and she could feel it oriented, ready to descend. Everything was moving painfully downwards. She could no longer even pinch her knees together, so wide was her gait. It felt as if the baby would drop out of her if she spread too wide.

“I-I think I’m, I’m in—“ Char was cut off by another contraction, doubling over with an urgent grunt, so unlike her normally composed and cool attitude. “Ohhhh,” she moaned, closing her eyes. She gritted her teeth, eyes squeezed shut as the contraction began to peak and she clutched blindly at her rigid, taut belly.

“Oh Char…” Laura said, waddling over to her boss, keeping one hand on a bench for support. “I think you’re in labor, hun.”

Char was completely doubled over, clutching her large and heavy belly, and grunting wildly. There was no way she could keep denying her situation now surely. Laura put a hand on Char’s back and rubbed up and down her spine in support. “It’s okay, just breathe through the contraction. Slowly, don’t panic, in and o-outttt…”

Laura was cut off by a contraction of her own, and without her waters it was aggressive and forceful. She immediately spun around, grabbing the nearest bench, and groaned deeply as she fell into a slight squat. The baby was slamming against her cervix, squeezing its way into her birth canal, and Laura had no choice but to push with the force of the contraction.

She tried not to panic, to stay calm, but the head filling her canal was almost making her nauseous. She wanted to tell Char but couldn’t speak, not that her boss could do anything as she was dealing with a contraction of her own right now. The only option left was to ride the wave, and follow her instincts.

Over the din of her own uncontrollable noises Char could hear Laura’s straining groans as she bore down fiercely, primal with the urgency of a birthing mother. Char tried to change her posture but the feeling of the baby descending, pressing down forcefully against her cervix was too much for her to bear standing, and she clasped her hands on her thighs as she squatted, desperate for relief. The contraction peaked, and though she tried to control her breathing, sucking in air at first, by the ends of her breaths she found herself grunting slightly. She gave a gasp, realizing that she was pushing. No! No, no! She thought desperately. You’re a scientist. This is your lab, and you have control. Try as she might, it was impossible to assert control over her laboring body. Her baby was coming, and she was pushing. Still, she tried to resist the urge to push, panting and blowing as the pressure grew and her back flared with pain.

Laura’s contraction seemed to subside a little before Char’s, and Char saw her belly visibly heave as her uterine muscles relaxed. She let out a grunt as the contraction released her. They made eye contact as Char’s contraction began to fade as well. Char shifted her gaze.

“We…. w-we,” she panted, trying to regain her breath. “We have to find this cure. Right now.”

“Char…. Even if we do find a c-cure… what do you t-think is going to happen?” Laura said sternly as she heaved herself back to standing. “These babies,” she patted her bump and also Char’s for effect, “are coming and no cure is going to make them disappear.”

Laura had seen the way Char literally squatted to the ground and pushed, and her clothes were also damp on her bottom half. “I’m saying this as both your friend and colleague, you are in labor just as much as I, and we should prepare for their arrival.”

Laura waddled awkwardly, bowlegged, back to her desk and grabbed a drink of water. Still panting after the latest contraction, she picked up a pen and carried on making notes. “I’ll help you as much as I can, noting everything down about this rapid pregnancy, tracking my symptoms and experience, but we’re going to be giving birth soon. Both of us.”

Char glared weakly as Laura patted her belly. She’d known Laura to be one of her only lab partners to actually stand up to her or challenge her, but even then she was firmly gentle. This was no different except of course so steeped in labor herself Laura had a bit more edge to her, biting just a little. She knew how Laura was feeling. Their babies were so low, pushing heavily into their canals and forcing their bodies to deliver, and she wanted nothing more to stop what she was doing right now, squat down, and let it come. Magic or science, Char and Laura were experiencing their most natural, primal instincts.

But—she couldn’t. She wouldn’t. No, this was HER body. An intruding passenger wouldn’t change that, even as it inched its way through her birth canal and demanded she work hard and concentrate on nothing but pushing it out. Char made a laborious effort to straighten somewhat, though her stance wasn’t much narrower than Laura’s own bowlegged waddle.

“Not, urgh, yet,” Char said. “I’m not having this baby. Mmm…. hoo, I’m grateful to you, Laura, for holding it together for this long. But you n-need to deliver. Please, don’t burden yourself. I’ll finish this cure on my—hmnh, hm. My own.”

She painstakingly toddled to her research table, lifting the hefty weight of her belly as though it would keep the baby from dropping any further.

“Okay, do whatever you wanna do Char.” Laura resigned herself to losing this argument. Her boss was determined but this was next level, bordering on complete denial. Well if Char was feeling even half the sensations Laura was, she’d succumb to this birth soon enough.

Laura needed to prepare for the imminent birth, her recent pushing was a sure sign the baby was close. Slowly, and whilst always holding on to something, the assistant rummaged through the drawers and cupboards in the lab. “Do we have anything we could use for clamps to cut the cord?” She asked aloud, not really expecting an answer from her disgruntled colleague. “Ah, this could work.”

She collected the equipment she’d need to clamp and cut the chord on her desk, and moved the towel on the floor with her feet again mopping up the new liquid that she’d trailed across the floor, not realizing she was still leaking. “I’m gonna go get some more towels.” Laura again spoke aloud but knew her boss had disappeared into her own world.

Laura barely made it to the doorway when another contraction struck, and damn they were close together. Her fingers gripped the wooden frame as her body sank downwards again, the pressure building and building between her legs. “Mnnnghhhhhhhh!!!” Laura grunted, muscles contracting and squeezing the large head further through the birth canal, to the point she could feel herself start to open slightly. “Nghhhhhhh the head…. I can feel it…” Laura mewled as she squatted.

Char listened to Laura’s preparations in the background, doing her best to tune out both Laura’s words and the feeling of a massive head lodged in her birth canal, stretching her from within. Her legs trembled, nearly buckled even without a contraction. She resented herself for pushing but knew from her last contraction that she wouldn’t be able to help from bearing down again. The urge to push, the pressure, it was blurring her vision, and her head pounded dizzyingly. A mantra repeated in her head: ‘Hold it in. Just hold it in a little longer.’ Her stomach felt like a hard stone weighing on her middle even without a contraction. She tried to focus, pulling herself into a chemical analysis of her own birthing fluids she’d swabbed from the towel.

Suddenly, she heard Laura’s loud grunting and her attention was drawn to the doorway to see her assistant bent and squatted, pushing hard into her trousers. She felt a tug of concern.

“Laura? Hun, you okay—?”

The head, she thought. Oh god, she’s still wearing her work trousers.

Before she could even take a single step towards Laura, she felt another contraction grip her. “Oooof,” she grunted deeply. Her knees began to give out and she was forced into a squat even as she tried to remain standing. Gripping the table for dear life, she groaned and growled. Don’t push, she thought. Don’t—

“Ohhhh.” The head shifted down. Her powerful internal muscles shoved it through. “OH—I’m—I-I’m pushinggggg, mmmmgh!”

Laura was consumed by the sensations thrumming through her entire body, it was as if something primal was happening to her - new and unfamiliar, completely out of her control, and yet her body seemed to know what to do. Her knees widened and she sunk deeper into the squat, opening her hips as much as she could. Leaning into the contraction, using it, Laura pushed the heavy weight down. It felt… productive. She knew it was what she should be doing.

The location wasn’t ideal, and she hoped she still had time to collect more towels and set up a more comfortable birthing area. But whilst the contraction raged, Laura submitted to it, letting it work her baby down, slipping further and further towards its exit.

Somewhere in the distance she heard her name being called. After a long push Laura gulped a breath and turned her head to see Char squatting at her desk and crying out that she was pushing. She would laugh if her body hadn’t forced her into another push.

They needed to get set up and quick, Char looked like she was suffering just as much as Laura was. When the contraction waned just a bit, Laura stopped pushing and somehow managed to haul her body back to standing. Char looked okay, well as she could given the situation, riding out a contraction and holding on to the sturdy frame of her workbench.

“I’m getting more towels, hang on Char!” Laura shouted, hoping her boss would hear over the groans Char was making.

Waddling ever so slowly, the head sitting right behind her lips, Laura went off to the cupboard to find more towels. They’d soon need them.

Another contraction struck mere minutes after the last while Laura was in the cupboard but she was not as successful this time in staying on her feet. The force of the contracting muscles and slashing pain splitting her open brought her to her knees. She clung on to the shelf in front of her, her heavy belly squished between widened thighs, and she pushed hard wailing with the effort. The head was peaking through, pushing apart her folds in her underwear. But her body was driving this journey, Laura was just the passenger. After a solid minute the contraction let up and when she released the push with a gasp, the baby slipped back into the birth canal. With a trembling hand she felt the fabric between her legs, she was definitely bulging, but the head wasn’t crowning just yet. She breathed deeply, gathering her strength before getting back on her feet. She needed to get back with the extra towels, not just so she could birth her baby there but so she could help Char. She’d need a friend and the support right now, and so could Laura.

As Laura submitted, pushing freely and loudly as though nothing else mattered in the world except getting her baby out and getting it out now, Char resisted her baby’s inevitable birth. Panicked, she gulped in a breath, trying to ease up on her furious pushing as she felt the head filling her opening thoroughly. It was beginning to bulge her, though her lips remained shut. The pressure and incredible sensation of the head sitting low at her opening, almost ready to exit, was almost too much to bear. She mooed deeply, from the back of her throat. Her belly tightened even harder than before, squeezing her like a vice and she couldn’t help but push again. The baby strained against her opening, and she could feel her most delicate area distending obscenely.

“Oh god!” She cried, throwing her head back as her thighs spread and she pushed again and again uncontrollably. The urge was undeniable. She was subject to her body and right now, it was telling her to birth her baby. Here, now, into her trousers. She felt helpless. Out of control.

“It’s coming,” she moaned. “Ohhh, it’s coming!” She knew this deeply, intuitively, with an age-old maternal instinct. She was ready to birth her baby. But she felt alone and vulnerable.

“Laura,” she gasped, couldn’t say much more than that. “Laura, oh god, it’s coming and I’m pushing! I need to hold it in! Just a little longer!”

She could hear Char’s wailing from the corridor, becoming fast apparent the lead technician was losing her fight against the inevitable. With one arm carrying a load of towels, the other hand pressed against the wall as she waddled heavily back to the office. On walking into the room she saw her friend and colleague in a deep squat, white-knuckling the work bench, chin to chest and pushing. Loudly.

“Oh Char, it’s okay hun.” Laura shut the door behind her and dropped the towels beside her friend. “You have to breathe as well as push darling.” She said as she staggered to her own workbench and grabbed the medical supplies she’d collected. With the baby playing peek-a-boo into her underwear, Laura knew their time was almost up.

Cumbersomely, Laura got down to her knees beside her boss, putting the clamps and scissors on the pile of towels. “Shhhhh it’s okay Char, don’t fight it. Use that contraction and push with the pain.” Laura rubbed a hand up and down Char’s back, trying her best to support and encourage through this.

Unfortunately with their labors progressing in tandem, Laura’s role as carer was snatched away when the next contraction tore its way across her midsection. Instinctively, without intending to, her body was pushing with the pain and she could feel the baby start to leak through again and stretch apart her lips. She went to all fours and rocked, sinking backwards towards her heels whenever she had to bear down.

“Mnnnnghhhhhhh! Come on baby….” She groaned before gasping another breath and pushing hard again. She didn’t care that she was still in her work clothes, or that she was on the floor of a laboratory that was covered with two lots of amniotic fluid, she was simply following her instincts and soon the baby stopped slipping back in and stayed, keeping her lips in a perfect oval shape.

“Ohhhh god… I think it’s starting to c-crownnnn….” The assistant managed to huff when the contraction eventually dulled.

Char’s belly refused to fully relax at this point, now constantly flexing with forceful surging contractions, but there were brief moments of respite where she could pause in her pushing and some awareness returned to her. Laura, she realized, was beginning to tent her pants with pushing, on all fours with her back arched and her hips shoved forward, trying to make as much room for the large crowning head as possible. She was pushing the head into her clothes, Char realized, bulging them ridiculously, and between her spread thighs more fluids dripped and leaked. At the same time she processed this she realized that her own clothes had never been discarded, but she made no effort to remove them in her precious few moments before her body would force her baby further out of her. Instead she clung onto the naive hope that she’d miraculously stumble upon a cure while crowning into her pants, feeling the head beginning to press up against her underwear and part her lips slightly. Laura, she could tell, had offered less resistance to her body and had made more progress in her pushing, the head sitting permanently, she calculated from the bulge in Laura’s pants, at around a half-crown or more.

“Hey,” she croaked hoarsely, barely able to manage anything but grunts with her clenching belly. “You—you need to get your pants down, hun. Head’s coming out.”

Painstakingly, she began to squat down, moaning as the head was pressed back slightly into her sensitive lips by the tension of her underwear. It felt so low, so full, she needed to open up, she needed to push, relieve the immense pressure, yet her friend, yes friend, not just assistant, needed her. As she squatted low, she hooked her fingers around Laura’s waistline.

“I need, urgh, I need you to get your legs together. Mmmm, we gotta get your pants off, ‘kay?”

She was surprised to see Char moving in her peripheral vision, but Laura could pay no mind, for this baby wanted out and it wanted out now.

“Grhhhhh!!! It’s coming out… mnghh!” Laura cried into the next push, bearing down and feeling the head stretch her wider and wider. Her hips were so full, her pelvis felt like it could snap, the pressure of this baby’s head - this large and heavy mass - *needed* to come out.

Char’s attempt to remove her trousers was fruitless, though the black fabric was stretchy and comfortable with the expanding of her stomach, it was not elasticated enough to be pulled over the wide angle of her legs. The baby sat so low, right at her entrance, stretching her entrance wide with the emerging crown. There was no way in hell she would be able to put her legs closer together.

Instead, she widened them further. “Hmngh! Can’t… baby… coming…I have to pushhhh-mnghhhh!” Laura’s face sunk towards the floor, dropping to her elbows and opening up her hips to the skies. It was coming out, she could feel it sliding slowly out of her into her stretchy clothing. All she could do was push…. Pant and push again.

Char watched in utter fascination as Laura pushed with total abandonment, entirely consumed with the baby coming out of her, every last thought focused on the overwhelming, intense, undeniable urge to push. The bulge in Laura’s pants grew, stretched her thinly and Char could scarcely believe that such a huge head could come from her, pass through such a narrow opening with so much force. She removed her fingers from Laura’s waistline, realizing the impossibility of such a task at this stage in Laura’s labor. She was pushing it out into her pants, and there was nothing Char could do about that except cup the growing bulge as it emerged from Laura’s opening into the straining fabric.

It was terrifying, watching Laura push without regard for anything else. As she felt a powerful contraction wrack her own reddened, exhausted belly, she knew there was no stopping this. She was giving birth and was about to push a baby out into her pants exactly as Laura was doing now. She growled fiercely, deep in her squat—the perfect position. Her knees jackknifed and she opened her hips as wide as they could go. Against her opening the fabric of her underwear arched with the coming head as she bore down immensely. Her face turned bright red with her hardest push yet.

“Oh GODDDD!” She bellowed. “It’s COMING, I’m pushing it OOUUUTTTT!”

Her lips parted, wider and wider, trembling and convulsing around the head as it burned and stretched her. She jerked, trying to escape the ring of fire and yet she couldn’t stop pushing for a minute. She was in the final stages now, and the only way the burn would stop was when she had pushed her baby into the world. Instinct took over completely. This was what her body needed her to do. This was what SHE needed to do.

Even though they were consumed with their own births, Laura found comfort that at least they were together through this. Each laboring woman was not alone.

But the strength required to birth these babies, who didn’t even exist 24 hours ago, would be down to the mother. Gasping for air Laura pushed again with everything she had, through the pressure and pain and the burning ring of fire that had her mouth open in a silent scream. The baby’s head had to be almost out by now, surely!?

Despite being beside each other Char’s bellowing voice seemed so far away to Laura. Nothing else registered beside the baby being born into her pants. She growled with another push and suddenly yelped when the head slipped fully out.

“Oh my god oh my god…” Laura muttered over and over and pushed herself back up on her knees. She scrambled at the waistband of her elasticated trousers and pulled them down to her knees along with her underwear. Her baby, she had to get to her baby, the maternal instinct cried in her head. With a trembling hand she felt the newly born baby’s head that was now wedged between her thighs. “Hi…. baby… oh my gosh you’ve got hair!” Laura was in shock, but also in awe of what her body had just done.

It was only after the head was born that Laura properly heard the cries of her friend. “Char…” she muttered and saw the other woman squatting and huffing, red-faced, chin to chest, with an obscene bulge protruding from her clothes between her wide legs.

“Oh my god Char! Your baby is coming out!”

Had Char any piece of mind she might have answered with her customary sarcasm: oh really? I wouldn’t have guessed. Instead, the only sound that emerged from her mouth was a long lowing wail that only deepened and became more guttural as the head filled her bottom so thoroughly, and it felt as though her pelvis was creaking open to allow the massive head through. She opened slowly, barely pausing to take a breath as she bore down without repose. Dimly, she was aware of Laura’s own baby dangling between her thighs, having pushed the huge head out, and with renewed efforts Char grunted the head further and further out. Her lips tautened and thinned, red with the stretch. The head reached a full crown and for a moment Char pushed and it didn’t move, solid mass wedged tightly in her opening. She gasped, scared for a moment that it was too big, that there was no way she could push something of this size out of her body.

Then she heard Laura cooing to the head between her legs, and something stirred within her. She realized that the dread she’d been facing was being replaced with something like motherhood, her body responding naturally, automatically, to Laura’s awe and wonder. Char realized that she wanted to meet this thing she had carried inside her for a mere twenty-four hours.

“C’mon BABYYYYY!” She shouted, bearing down furiously. Her lips slipped around the head, and then—with a splash of fluids and a grunt of relief, Char freed the head into her pants.

Laura watched in fascination as Char grunted the head further and further into her clothing, it was huge. Char had been fighting this throughout the entire pregnancy and in that moment Laura understood why some women balked so much away from birth. It was hard work. But then she saw a change in her friend, the way her eyebrows furrowed with determination, the slight readjustment of her hips as she took a breath; she was no longer fighting against her body and was readying herself to meet her child.

“You can do it Char, push!” Laura called as Char bore down. She wished she could move to support her friend physically but she was still mid-way through her own rapid birth to risk moving.

Tears begun to well in her eyes at the thought of their babies, the exhaustion of labor and the stress of the last 24 hours hammering her emotions.

By the time Char had birthed the head of her baby into her pants Laura was already feeling the pangs of the next contraction and the baby’s head turned slightly in the palm of her hand. “Oohhhhh… mhhh okay okay… you ready little one?” She panted, pulling in air through her nose, widening her legs apart to steady her balance and preparing herself to push again. Both hands were between her legs when the contraction really got going and all too soon she was pushing once more and felt the shoulders stretch apart her already sore lips.

With trembling fingers, Char reached down between her legs, feeling the hard slick roundness of the head she’d just pushed out between her legs. She gasped. The aftershocks of her contraction clutched at her belly.

“Oh… oh, my—that’s a baby. I just gave birth.”

The evidence was conclusive. But she could scarcely believe that she’d pushed an entire baby through her birth canal and out into her pants. The experience she’d just been through, the effort, the haze of contractions and the hard pushes as she focused on nothing but expelling her baby, and the intense sensations throughout her body. It was all unbelievable. Inching down the waistband of her trousers, Char struggled them to her shins and sank to her knees. She panted in disbelief, feeling instinctually that this was *right,* that this was what she was meant to be doing. Her identity had irreconcilably changed to that of a mother and as she caressed the head between her legs, she felt a rush of contentment. Char was a scientist, an expert in her field, but now it all paled in comparison.

She glanced up at Laura, seeing her shock and awe mirrored in her eyes as she lifted her baby from between her legs and rested it against her chest. Laura smiled exhaustedly at her.

Char began to pant as another contraction took hold.

“Ooh—“ she exclaimed. “You’re ready…. c’mon, you’re ready to be—UGH! BORN!”

Her baby slipped between her lips with a spray of fluids and immediately she sank to the floor, sighing in immense relief.

Laura fell silent with her final pushes, holding her breath as she bore down, the head filling her palm as the shoulders squeezed their way through. She gasped another breath and pushed with everything she had, this was it, she could feel it. Come on baby…

Once the shoulders were freed Laura wasn’t expecting the speed of which the baby slipped out and the hush of fluid that came with it. Catching the slippery newborn Laura gasped, relieved and shocked, and immediately brought the babe to her chest.

“Hey…. Oh my- hey baby.” She cooed, eyes welling with tears as she looked upon this little miracle that had grown in the last 24 hours. When the baby started to cry she instinctively rocked and hushed the infant “it’s okay… you’re okay.” She said, wiping the blood and fluid off the newborn's face.

Laura had barely caught her breath back when Char started pulling down her trousers and panted heavily, a baby’s head hanging between her open legs. A second later Char was mirroring Laura’s actions and pulling her own baby to her chest and sobbing with relief.

“You did it.” Laura said softly to her friend. “We did it. I can’t believe they’re real, we just had babies.”

The Spell might currently be a scientific mystery, but as the two women sat exhausted on the floor cradling their newborns, the research could wait. For now, the scientists were in awe of the new lives they’d just birthed.

#fpreg #clothing birth #birth denial #labor kink #birth kink #pregnant kink #inconvenient birth #birth fic #birth rp #rp with my forever writer on this site my one and only

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8-0mph · 1 year ago

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Forbidden Dream

This is all of my Adventure Time AU in chronological story order. Thanks to my friend for proof-read.

Act I: Prismo and Betty

This takes some time after the events of F&C. Prismo and Scrabby inhabit the TR(TimeRoom) and Golbetty has gotten restless with her time in space. She decides to reach out to other multiversal beings, but no one wants to associate with Golb. She finally finds someone that puts up with her ..that being the Wishmaster.

Prismo is scared of Golbetty at first, especially Scrabby since he has a little bit of history with her. He scurries off or hides behind Prismo when she is in the TR. To Scrabbys surprise, Pris and Betty hit it off and become good friends. They find they have something in common, which is their “human” past. Theyre both mortals turned to immortals.

The duo start off by drinking and making fanfics together, but then Betty proposes the idea of making these fics “real”. Prismo is hesitant at first but lately he doesn’t mind breaking the rules.

At first they visit universes that Prismo considers safe. They treat them like vacations, and a lot of these worlds do not have the typical AT characters. Theyre peaceful docile places. Prismo gets daring, telling Betty that he wants to feel alive again. The two of them agree to visit a dangerous world, the Vampire Kingdom.

Notes:

- Betty chose her physical form to look like magic Betty because she felt it would be strange to appear as she normally did in the past.

- Prismos physical form is what he looked like as a younger human. He thought it would be more fitting for the “adventure”. Also.. He hates how clothing feels on him, so the see-through garments suffice.

- Scrabby is not happy about their friendship. He feels that Prismo has gotten even lazier, foregoing his Wishmaster responsibilities and even worse, ignoring him. The scarab thought he found someone that was happy to spend time with him for the first time, But feels like he has gone back to being the “forgotten” one.

EP II: Vampire Kingdom

Once Pris and Betty teleport here, theyre immediately caught off guard by a group of vampires that whisk Prismo away and the two are separated. Betty gets surprised by a starved vampire!Simon, who at first doesnt recognize her until he gets a good look at her face.

He refuses to believe its actually Betty and rather a wizard attempting to play tricks on him. Marcy calls his name and he flys away, leaving Betty stunned.

The vampire world is an AU where Vampires take over, but Simon never died and was able to stay with Marcy. Marcy isnt evil here. Simons crown was stolen before he could make a complete transformation into IceKing, and his sanity was kept in part to Marcy turning him to save him from a group of hungry vampires. One curse was replaced with another.

Marcy was turned at a younger age by the VK, but Simon saved her by scratching at the VKs eye (his face scar). Even though the King is furious at Simon for this, he thinks it is more amusing to keep Simon alive and suffering from vampirism. Vampires are starved in this world just like “The Star” episode, but Simon proposes the idea to wrangle human (and animal) survivors and keep them on a reserve to supply the Vampires with a food source. He inevitably becomes the person in charge of the Blood farms. Keep in mind, Simon did this to save humans, otherwise they would have been hunted to extinction.

Unlike the safe worlds PrisBetty visited, this world has most of the original cast in them. Finn is a survivor of the Blood Farms, swearing to kill Simon who he believes imprisoned him in there (which.. is true). The farm is surrounded by booby traps all around the perimeter, no one can get in or out without some level of flying.

Finn always managed to get close to escaping But eventually gets caught in one of the traps. The last attempt caused him to cut his own arm off to be freed and helped by Huntress Wizard. She is one of the few wizards to help the freedom fighters, a band of humans and candy people led by Commander PB. Wizards are hated by Vampires since theyre the few beings that can overpower them. They try to stay out of each others business But huntress is an exception as she feels that the vampires are disrupting the balance of nature.

The Candy Kingdom is fortress walled with wooden spikes and garlic (I thought it would be silly Lol). PBs armor consists of wooden stakes and reminiscent of Golb who she is a follower of. She has access to the Enchiridion and sees Golb as a being that she should harness the power of if the vampires happen to overwhelm her people someday.

The end of the story would involve PrisBetty helping Simon overthrow the VK after Marcy discovers the vampires ability to “drink red” instead of blood. They team up with the help of PB and Huntress. Simon never truly reconciles with Betty as his defense mechanism is to push any feelings of his past away. But he does have a newfound respect for her and tells her to visit him again. Simon will assume the role of Vampire King and free the humans afterward.

Notes:

- Simon is the only vampire dressing in traditionally “Dracula” clothes. Because hes a nerd and thinks its fitting.

- Marcy is raised by Simon here instead of VK, so she is a lot kinder and sympathetic to the humans and candy kingdom (even if she doesnt show it for a while).

EP III: Winter Kingdom

After the Vampire world, Prismo and Betty decide their adventuring is “complete” and attempt to teleport back to the Time Room with Prismos magic. This doesnt work out. Turns out, their human forms have been draining their magic slowly, making it so that they need to find a magical item to recharge. This being the Enchiridion.

This is a totally different world than (Canon) Winter Kings as obviously he is alive here.

Ooo has been mysteriously frozen over and put into an eternal Ice Age. There is hardly any life (apart from immortal beings and those resistant to the temperatures) so hardly anyone lives on the surface. Prismo automatically assumes WK is responsible, but Betty refuses to believe Simon would be the cause of this destruction. WK has a much larger kingdom with a variety of ice people, a lot of them more human-like in appearance. It seems like he is trying to mirror a human society.

Here WK has Bettys skeleton and attempting to use the cloning machine he has in F&C to clone a “real” Betty (which is why he doesnt have an ice clone of her).

The backstory of this WK mirrors my au version of him.

Prismo and Betty are briefly separated and I wont go into too much detail on the story. Betty gets the “safe” tour of the kingdom by WK and Prismo is left to wander in search for the Enchiridion. He starts to see things that point to a darker scene (fire people fighting ice soldiers, lack of any plant life, and ice clones of people who no longer exist). At the same time, Betty is off-put by WKs controlling nature. He reveals to her that he has been in a 100-year war with the Fire Kingdom “who destroy everything” with their flames, while ice “preserves it”. Betty is shocked to see the extent of destruction the Ice Kingdom has caused to Ooo and manages to slip away to do her own investigating. She eventually ends up in the room Bettys corpse is kept, which is the only place that WK allows plant life to grow. The Enchiridion was sitting on skeleton Bettys lap.

The two of them engage in a fight where he details his plan for her and Ooo.

Prismo manages to save her at the end of it. Up until this point hes been a pacifist in the story. They use the Enchiridion to teleport home and they end up.. not there.

Notes:

- I had a bonus page where Scrabby is reacting to PrisBetty not arriving back in the Time Room. He thinks they didnt teleport back on purpose.

- This page also has WK grabbing Bettys ankle right as she teleports. I was going to have WK teleport with them so there was some kind of threat. I am not sure yet.

- The fight scene was supposed to be a lot longer with Betty having the upperhand at first, But I didnt want to draw all of it.

- Winters appearance slowly turns back into Simon when separated from the magic crown.

EP IV: Back Home

They end up in Ooo where the magic teleported them into the sky, making them fall a great distance. They are a little injured, but Betty is mostly shaken by her experience in the Winter world. She redirects this into frustration at Prismo for not teleporting them to the correct place and that they would need to search another “sucky universe”.

Prismo is frustrated and goes off on his own to find another magical object. Betty stays put in the forest. When looking up, Prismo realizes the universe they teleported to was actually the main Ooo upon seeing the floating human city. He rushes back to where Betty was sitting, telling her to go find her Simon here in Ooo, that he knew that he had the Enchiridion in his closet. Betty refuses, knowing that she already said goodbye to Simon years ago and him seeing her again will only hurt him.

Prismo is annoyed at this but walks off, and Betty wanders around the forest until she encounters one of the transport boats that take people up to the city. In her reluctance, she hitches a ride. Meanwhile Prismo reaches a graveyard on the outskirts of the woods, he hides in the bushes and sees a familiar person, Finn, walking up and leaving a bouquet of flowers at the grave.

When Betty makes it up to the city, she explores for a bit before approaching Simon (who is signing a childs book). Before she could say anything, she covers her face with her hat and speeds off. He is at first confused by this but is immediately distracted by the kid again.

Betty is in shock and retreats onto the boat leading her back down to land. She eventually catches up to Prismo, who is kneeling over Jakes grave. She attempts to comfort him, but the words fall short. He asks her if she visited Simon, but Betty says she couldnt do it. At this point Prismo feels like he wasted his time in the Time Room when he could have been spending it in his human form visiting Jake. He remained trapped in the TR unable to spend time with the mortals he built connections with. He feels that Betty is going to suffer the same regret he feels after Simon inevitably dies.

In a turn of events, Prismo places his hand on the grave and it teleports them back into the Time Room. They are amazed by this, Jakes grave acted like a magical object would have. They temporarily celebrate before Betty is impaled by an angry Scrabby.

Bettys human form is heavily injured as Prismo and the Scarab fight in several rooms. Scrabby tells him that he alerted the auditors about their misdeeds. That they will both be locked away for thousands of years or perhaps forever just like he was trapped in the Time Room.

Prismo temporarily subdues Scrabby and goes back to the main room where Betty is. This is where he turns her into a fox to keep her hidden, and promises that her memories are all stored in her body dormant in Golb (Like how Prismos form is dormant in the Time Room).

Fox!Betty wakes up in Ooo, no memories, a feeling of disconnect from her body, and hungry.

End of Act 1

Act II is all about Bettys life as a fox in Ooo. Its a lot calmer and slow burn in comparison to Act I. Upon landing in Ooo, fox!Betty encounters posters advertising Simons* sci-fi series Casper and Nova. She is convinced he is knowledgeable about space because a talking dog told her he was.

*EDIT: Someone pointed out that C&N was written by Astrid (it is implied heavily). Pretend the posters are the two of them working together, maybe Simon helping Astrid write them since she is just a kid.

She starts pestering Simon at one of his book signings and he already dislikes foxes because earlier in the week, a band of them stole his draft for an upcoming book. Betty proposes that she will find the notes and return them to him if she can have a place to stay (Even though he says no, she crashes at his place anyway).

I thought about Simon giving Betty a nickname so that she isnt just referred to as “fox”, so she is “Sunny” since she really likes when he makes sunny-side up eggs. She really likes eggs as a fox that is her quirk.

Update 1/21/24: Sunny encounters Simon after breaking into his home and snooping around for clues. Simon ambushes her in the Golb ritual room, assuming she has come to steal the Enchiridion. Sunny explains herself and claims that she can get Simons draft back from the fox thieves. They go on an “adventure”. It is revealed that fox!Betty can transform into Betty only when unconscious/sleeping. Simon wakes up next to her but assumes he is hallucinating..

Post about Simon and fox!Bettys dynamic.

I couldnt fit all images into this post as there is a 10 photo limit. I decided to link additional photos to underlined text. If you want further context, check those out. I love reading others AUs and was inspired to do my own. Any questions can be left in comment. Thanks for read..!

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captainmalewriter · 6 months ago

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A God's Tongue

“Alright, you ready?” Ahmed asked as he got on his knees. His roommate Kyle helped himself onto his bed and stripped down.

“More than ready! Thanks again man, seriously, you’re the best!”

Kyle stroked his flaccid cock until it began hardening up to full mast. Once it was sufficiently hard enough, Ahmed brushed off Kyle’s hand and took a hold of his cock himself. He looked at the long, pink member with hungry eyes. He smacked his lips with his tongue. Ahmed was ready to go down on his roommate right then and there, but then a slight hesitation in his mind stopped him.

“What’s wrong?” Kyle asked.

“I don’t know if we should be doing this tonight. Aren’t you worried I’m transforming you too much? This’ll be the third time this month! What if something happens to you?”

Ahmed backed away from the bed. Suddenly, the idea of his magic tongue horrified him. He doesn't know how he developed such a strange ability, but Ahmed had the power to temporarily transform anything (or anyone) he wanted by licking it. Ahmed hated his tongue. It made eating unnecessarily difficult and hook ups practically impossible. He swore to keep his magic tongue a secret until the day he died. However, after a night out drinking, Ahmed accidentally hooked up with Kyle and turned him into an adonis. He hoped it would just be a one time thing, but Kyled begged him to transform him again. Although he initially refused, Ahmed eventually warmed up to the idea when he realized it was his chance to finally hook up without someone finding out about his powers. They formed a mutually beneficial arrangement: Kyle got to be a Greek god, while Ahmed got the sex he craved but couldn't have because of his tongue.

It was originally supposed to be a once-a-month thing. Ahmed's tongue could only do temporary transformations. But everytime Ahmed used his power on Kyle, he noticed there was something inexplicably off about his roommate. Sure, Kyle's body returned back to normal after a few days, but his personality started changing too. He became angry, anxious, and even aggressive at times. Ahmed wasn't sure what exactly was going on inside his roommate's mind and he was worried his tongue had something to do with it.

“Nahh I'll be fine!!" Kyle chuckled. "You worry too much, Ahmed! Nothing bad has ever happened in all the times we've done this, right?"

"Well, no, I guess not."

"Exactly! It'll be fine. If anything, we'll just do it one more time and then we'll take a long break... Sound good?"

Ahmed looked up and saw Kyle smiling at him. His reassurance helped calm his nerves. But despite Kyle's affirmation, doubt still lingered in his mind. Ahmed hesitated, but after Kyle made his erect cock twitch at him, he ultimately decided one more transformation couldn't hurt. He wrapped a hand around Kyle's boner, stood up, and kissed him firmly on the lips.

The two men exchanged rough kisses as they pressed their bodies against each other, grunting and groaning as they did so. Kyle then opened his mouth, granting Ahmed the opportunity to slip his tongue inside.

Ahmed's tongue was magical in more ways than one. He knew how to use his tongue well. Ahmed had no problem dominating Kyle's tongue as he took the leading role in their makeout sess. Kyle groaned with delight as Ahmed licked and sucked away at his tongue. As he did so, Ahmed's magic tongue activated and Kyle began to transform. His jawline became wider and sharper as it morphed into a more squared off jaw with some slight stubble to complete his more overtly masculine look. His nose grew thicker and wider until a hooked nose replaced his small, button nose. His cheekbones filled in and grew more pronounced, giving him a ruggedly handsome face. All the while his face began getting darker in skin tone too. His blond, wavy hair darkened until they were jet black and with curls. Darker features were something Ahmed's tongue had never done before, but they were both too caught up in the heat of the moment to even notice.

Ahmed pulled his lips away from Kyle's lips and moved down to his neck. He planted his lips against the left side of his body. He then began licking, sucking, and biting playfully at his neck until hickies began to form, then switched over to the right side.

"Nrgghh fuckk..." Kyle whispered. The heat coming from Ahmed's wet mouth felt good against his neck. His hands gripped the bed sheets as he felt his neck grow thicker and darker with every lick Ahmed gave him. Ahmed ran his tongue from the top of his shoulder blades to the edge of his jawline, causing his shoulder muscles to tighten and thicken. Within seconds, Kyle's back transformed into that of a linebacker thanks to Ahmed's magic tongue. Ahmed moved over into Kyle's armpits next. He stuck his nose into his pit and sniffed his musk. He then licked the crevice if his pits, causing thick black hair to sprout in until Kyle had rank jungles in his underarms. From there, Ahmed slid over to his arms and bit him. He bit and licked all over until Kyle's biceps grew into firm, melon-sized cannons with thick forearms to boot. He licked and licked until veins all throughout Kyle's arms throbbed with strength.

Ahmed continued making his way down Kyle's torso. He stopped at his chest. He licked his nipples until they grew pointy, then proceeded to slip his pec into his mouth and sucked away at his nipple. Kyle's toes curled and his pupils rolled back as Ahmed suckled away at his growing chest. The pleasurable sensations were making him break a sweat. Ahmed didn't mind it though. He was having the time of his life too. The sweat added a slightly salty taste to Kyle's tits. He could feel Kyle's pectoral muscles grow heavier in his mouth as he sucked too, giving his hands something to grab and squeeze as he focused his mouth on his nips. Once he felt Kyle had a suitable set of hefty pecs, Ahmed moved down further to his abdominal region. Ahmed then proceeded to trace the outline of his abs with his tongue. Kyle's flabby stomach region swelled with muscle mass until his abs began popping out one by one like freshly popped popcorn.

In no time flat, Kyle's body had undergone two major transformations. His muscles swelled and grew while also growing darker in color until Kyle had become a muscular Arab god. Every lick Ahmed gave Kyle was pushing him further and further away from his original identity.

Unfortunately, both Ahmed and Kyle were too busy enjoying themselves notice Ahmed was inadvertently changing his roommate's race into his own. Ahmed got back down on his knees with Kyle's cock in hand. He slipped his pink head into his mouth and began licking away at it. He started slowly at first, then gradually made his way down Kyle's lengthy rod inch by inch. All the while Ahmed made sure to use his tongue generously.

"Mmm yeah just like that... Keep sucking that big dick!" Kyle purred, Ahmed moaned in response. He sunk back against the bed as Ahmed's wet mouth wrapped tightly around his hard cock. The sensual feeling of Ahmed's thick, bushy beard pressing against the cleanly shaved base of his cock drove him mad with pleasure. Kyle ran his fingers through his roommate's hair as Ahmed alternated between swirling and licking the sensitive tip of his dick like a melting popsicle, sending rippling sensations throughout his groin every time he did so.

"Ohhh fuckk..! It's happening..!!" Kyle said with bated breath. He threw his head back as he felt a new surge of blood rush into his already erect cock, causing it to grow thicker and heavier by the second.

"Mmmph!!" Ahmed gagged against the expanding cock in his mouth. Suddenly, Kyle's dick was long enough to press against the back of his throat but he refused to give up. He took in a breath through his nose and continued deepthroating Kyle's member until his nose touched his pubis. With his length already pushing 8 inches, Ahmed's magic began affecting Kyle's balls too. They grew and grew until they hung low, heavy with cum.

"Ahhh..! Ahhh..! FUCK!! Ohhh....!!!"

Kyle squirmed from the building pressure in his junk. His body was becoming more muscular and Arab by the second! His balls were practically twitching, begging him for release! Kyle knew how uncomfortable transformation could be, but it was never this powerful before. He knew something was wrong. Amidst waves of pleasure, he opened his eyes and was shocked at what he saw. He had become the muscular adonis again just like he wanted, but his body had unexpectedly become brown too!

"What the fuck..? Noooo...!!"

The darker skin tone was slowly but surely spreading up the length of his pink dick. Kyle tried patting Ahmed in a desperate attempt to stop him, but he took it a sign to not stop sucking him off. Kyle tried to fight it, but between the bomb head and the transformation pains, his body seized up. All he could do was brace himself as his cock twitched and rumbled until he finally shot loads of cum down Ahmed's throat. The moment he pumped out the first load, the growing melanin surged throughout the rest of his body. His legs spasmed as his feet grew bigger and wider until he had smelly, size 14 feet. He had been completely transformed from head to toe.

"Ahhh man! That was good!!" Ahmed swallowed Kyle's load then got up from his knees. "That was more intense than last time! How do you- what the fuck!? Who are you!!"

Ahmed jumped back when he saw the new Arab Kyle laying out in front of him. Kyle held a hand against his temples.

"What are you yelling for... It's me!"

"Kyle!?"

"Who else?"

"But... No! That can't be! You were just supposed to become muscular! Now you look like one of my cousins!!"

"I don't know what to tell you man... Your tongue transformed me, so now I'm gonna look like this for the next couple of days."

The two men shared looks. Kyle held a serious expression while Ahmed looked like he was ready to pass out.

"Well... I guess you're just gonna look like this for a while. Are you gonna be okay?" Ahmed asked.

"Yeah man! I'll be fine!" Kyle flashed Ahmed a smile, but it still took him a while to actually calm down. But once he did, he left the room anxious while a sinister smirk began to form on 'Kyle's' face.

"That fucking idiot..." 'Kyle' said in perfect Arabic. "It took me a long time to squeeze out enough magic out of that fool, but I'm finally fully adjusted to this body!!"

Zahid flashed a grin to himself as he flexed his new body. He was more than happy with the results of his hard work. As he did so, an idea struck him.

"The God's tongue is wasted on someone foolish and cowardly like him... Looks like I'm gonna need one more favor from you, Brother."

The same smirk from before returned to Zahid's face as he looked at himself proudly in the mirror. One that Ahmed had no idea he was responsible for creating with his magic tongue.

#male transformation #male tf #male shapeshift #magic tf #muscle tf #mental change #racial change #unintended consequences tf

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steddiehyperfixation · 4 months ago

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wrong again

wrote this in an hour in a sudden burst of inspiration lol. could be read as a kinda sorta part two to this, or completely standalone. @steddie-spooktober day 21: "it's warm in here" | 1,037 words | T | cw: mild description of an anxiety attack

Steve and Eddie haven’t talked about what they are. They kissed for the first time almost a month ago, the moment something sweet and unplanned. One kiss led to more, led to holding hands and cuddling and spending nights at each other’s places, led to gifts and pet names and taking each other out to dinners and movies. But they still haven’t talked about it. Not really. They don’t need to. What they are to each other, how they feel about each other, is clear enough in the things that they do. Steve pours all the depth of his affection into every kiss, every touch, every home-cooked meal and bouquet of flowers, and Eddie has matched him - even exceeded him sometimes - in his effort, his passion, his gentleness. So even without the words to prove it, there shouldn’t be any doubt that everything Steve feels for Eddie, Eddie feels the same for him.

Except, well…Steve’s been wrong before. Real life is not like a movie or a book of poetry, and the rose-colored clouds that cover the eyes of a hopeless romantic have led him astray in the past. He’s thought many previous relationships were something more than they were, that the other person cared as much as he did. And he’s been wrong.

He tries not to think about it, usually. Pushing those thoughts away hasn’t been too hard throughout the past month, when a smile or a kiss from Eddie has often been enough to dissipate them. But right now, sitting on a couch at a Halloween party watching Eddie grab a drink from the punch bowl, suddenly it’s all Steve can think about. He remembers the last time he was at a Halloween party, the worst time he was wrong. It encompasses his mind like a flashback, oppressing his present senses and filling them in with echoes of the past, Nancy’s drunken speech about their love being bullshit ringing in his ears.

His vision blurs like he’s had too much to drink and everything sounds like it’s underwater. When Eddie returns from the punch bowl and tucks himself back against Steve’s side, it doesn’t give him that easy warmth it usually does. Instead it just feels strange and suffocating. Because what if this doesn’t mean the same thing to him as it does to Steve? What if it’s all bullshit? He’s not sure he could survive this being bullshit. He needs Eddie too much, loves him too much. If he’s wrong again-

“Stevie,” that sweet voice breaks through his thoughts. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Steve lies. He feels like he can’t breathe. “It’s just, uh-” He loosens his collar, makes up an excuse, “It’s warm in here.”

Eddie pulls away from him, studying him with worried eyes. He sets his drink down and stands before grabbing Steve by the hands to tug him to his feet. “Come on then, sweetheart, let’s get you some fresh air.”

Steve lets himself be led outside and guided to sit on the backyard’s wide porch step. He’s still struggling to take a proper breath. He yanks his hands away from Eddie’s, can’t bring himself to look at him, because what if he’s wrong what if he’s wrong what if

“Are you sure you’re okay? Do you need me to take you home?” Eddie’s still fretting over him, newly freed hands fluttering towards and then away from him like he isn’t quite sure what to do now, if he’s allowed to touch him or not.

Steve’s not sure either.

“Eddie, what are we doing?”

Eddie stills. “What do you mean?”

“I mean this, us.” Steve gestures between them, finally lifting his gaze to the boy sitting beside him. “What is this? What are we doing? Because I- I mean we’ve never talked about it, we’ve never said, and I don’t know. We’ve just- we’ve been doing all these things, acting like we’re in love and it’s all sweet and magical and we know what we’re doing, but I don’t-”

“‘Like we’re in love’?” Eddie echoes, and Steve’s stomach drops. The past has spun on its head and rushed into the present, distorted and disorienting. Steve opens his mouth to quickly stammer out an apology, to take it all back before Eddie can jump to the same devastating conclusion Steve had with Nancy all those years ago. But Eddie doesn’t seem to take it that way, because his frown is more confused than hurt, eyes more soft than accusing, and he says instead, “Steve, I do love you.”

Steve gapes at him, stunned into momentary silence. That was really, really not what he was expecting him to say. “You love me?”

“Yeah, I thought I’d been making that pretty obvious.” Eddie exhales a short breath of nervous laughter, worry and doubt only just now beginning to creep into the edges of his expression. “I thought we were boyfriends, I thought we were on the same page here…?”

“We are!” Steve hastily agrees. A wave of relief and joy rolls through him, providing him with a burst of energy that has him taking Eddie’s hands and pulling him into a short kiss. “We are on the same page. I love you too,” he tells him with a smile. “I just- I wasn’t sure. I need to hear the words sometimes.”

Eddie smiles back, so bright and beautiful. “Okay.” He squeezes Steve’s hands. “I’m sorry I never said it before. I’ll make sure to tell you more often now. I’ll say all the words all the time,” he promises, leaning playfully into Steve’s space. “I’ll say it so much you’ll get sick of me.”

Steve laughs. “Okay.”

“I mean it.” Eddie grins. “I’ll say it over and over. I’ll say: you’re my boyfriend and I love you.” He smacks a kiss to his cheek. “You’re my boyfriend and I love you.” He repeats it again and again between kisses as he peppers Steve’s face and neck with them, breath warm and ticklish against his skin.

Steve giggles and pretends to try to shove Eddie off of him, but it’s a weak effort. Really, he could stay right here in this moment forever, laughing and loved and not wrong at all.

(ao3)

#steddiespooktober #steddie #steddie fic #steddie fanfic #steddie ficlet #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #ficlet #mine

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appocalipse · 2 years ago

Text

RIGHT WHERE I WANT TO BE : ̗̀➛ SIRIUS BLACK

summary: it's only when lily accidentally spills amortentia on you and all you can smell is cigarettes and dog fur that you realize you're in love with sirius — probably the only person in the world you shouldn't be in love with.

"Oh, crap!" Lily seems on the verge of panic as she stares at the fresh stain on your clothes. "I'm so sorry!"

Somewhat shocked, you reach your hand to the front of your uniform and try to rub it away. It's no use. "It's okay," you assure her gently, relieved that the liquid didn't spill on the clean set of clothes you were folding instead, "it was an accident."

You put the clothes safely away in the trunk near your bed. They still have the fresh and clean scent of lavender. Your uniform, however…

Lily points her wand at your chest, and the stain quickly disappears. She had rushed through the entrance of the dormitory fast as lightning, crashing right into you and spilling…

Well, what exactly?

"Lily," you bring a hand to your own face, sniffing, then sniffing again. "What is this? It smells like a wet dog and-"

Your eyes meet and you immediately dislike the look on her face. Too much restrained excitement slowly bubbling up...

"-cigarettes…" you trail off, some sort of realization dawning on you way too late.

It can't be.

Lily bites her lower lip as if trying to hold back a smile. "Is that what it smells like to you?"

You also catch the scent of quill ink and freshly brewed coffee, so it can only be…

You put your hand away from your nose as if it's on fire.

"Tell me this is not what I think this is."

"If you're not thinking of Amortentia, then yes."

"Why would you brew Amortentia?!"

"For Professor Slughorn," she sees the confusion etched on your face and looks positively horrified. "Not for Professor Slughorn to drink! Ew! I said I'd like to try brewing one because it's, you know, a bit complicated and I've never tried before. He said he'd give Gryffindor some points if I succeeded. I didn't know you would… you know, smell Sirius."

"I never said I smelled him!"

"Okay! Okay," Lily raises both hands in surrender. Then, quieter, she adds, "You can pretend all you want."

You sigh. "Did you only have this vial?"

"Well, there should be some potion left in the cauldron, I think."

Great. An opportunity to escape this beyond strange situation. "I'll go get it for you."

"But I-"

You're out the Gryffindor common room before Lily has a chance to question your offer. The need to get away from that impending conversation is stronger than anything else right now.

Your heart is racing as you walk through the corridors of the castle, heading towards the dungeons, where Potions class usually take place. Each step is an effort to calm your turbulent mind and find some peace.

Upon reaching the Potions classroom, you welcome the silent space as you enter. The characteristic smell of magical ingredients and herbs fills your nostrils, bringing a familiar and almost comforting sensation… until you catch that smell. Amortentia.

You look around, searching for Lily's cauldron, which she mentioned leaving behind.

It's not hard to find; the smell is quite distinct, enchanting, all the things you love most in the world somehow united in a single aroma.

The cauldron is sitting on one of the workbenches. You approach cautiously, making sure not to knock anything over. Then you rummage through the shelves for an empty vial and pour some of the potion into it, feeling like you're doing something wrong even though Lily had Slughorn's permission.

The door opens, and you almost drop a row of glass bottles as you turn to look.

"What are you doing here?" he asks.

It's Sirius. Of course, it's him.

He closes the door behind him, and your heart skips a beat as it usually does whenever he's around. He's wearing the Gryffindor uniform, the first two buttons undone, revealing a patch of delicate skin just below his neck.

You don't need to wonder how he got there or why. Chances are, he extracted every piece of information he needed from Lily with little to no effort.

"What are you doing?" he asks calmly. You, on the other hand, don't feel calm at all.

"Nothing, just..."

"Just?" He takes a step closer, and you instinctively move away from the workbench, trying not to show the nervousness you truly feel.

"I just came to get something," you say.

Sirius gives a suspicious glance at the cauldron. "Is it a love potion?" He's a skilled wizard. Skilled enough to know the answer to that question, yet he waits for you to respond.

"Lily made it," you say defensively, holding up the vial containing the potion to illustrate your point unnecessarily.

"And what scent do you smell?" he questions, with a genuine curiosity in his tone that catches you off guard. "What does the potion smell like to you?"

"Lily told you," it's far from a question.

But Sirius has a knack for playing games.

"She told me what?"

"You know what."

This time, you step back as he advances, unable to help yourself, swallowing hard and Sirius notices. He takes another step forward, and you take another step back.

"Sirius," you warn.

In return, Sirius says your name, his tone lighter, more playful, soft as a feather. Then, another step.

You nearly bump your hip against one of the workbenches as you take another desperate step back. Sirius, being Sirius, raises an eyebrow, making no effort to hide his amusement.

It's unfair. It's simply unfair that he's so good-looking, starting at you without feeling the need to averting his gaze. "You don't have to do this," you find yourself saying.

Sirius seems genuinely puzzled.

"Do what?"

You steal a glance in your peripheral vision. The room won't go on forever; you need to say something to get out of this situation before he gets too close. You don't trust yourself near Sirius.

"Turn me down. Be all nice-" you stutter. He keeps advancing toward you. Back almost against the wall, you dodge another workbench and turn to the left, trying to prevent him from cornering you.

Sirius chuckles. "Is that what you think?"

"I'm a big girl. I can take rejection."

He glances in the direction of the cauldron. "Do you want to know what scent I smell?"

"No."

"Leather-"

"Sirius-"

"Gasoline," he raises his chin, nose in the air as if enjoying one scent after another. "Apple pie."

For a moment, you close your eyes. "Stop it."

"And lavender."

Your heart is pounding in your chest. He's not being serious, a little voice in your mind insists. It can't be serious. He's just teasing you... or maybe just being a good friend. Too good a friend.

It would be easier if he wasn't. If he were less kind to you, less handsome, less charming.

It's not easy.

You're breathless, trying to keep your distance from Sirius as he sets a slow advance, a constant tease. It's an internal battle between the desire to give in to the attraction you feel for him and the need to protect yourself — but the latter wins, for now.

"Sirius," you plead, your voice quiet, "stop"

He pauses for a moment, his gray eyes fixed on yours. "You think I'm joking, don't you? You think I'm just being nice?"

"I... I don't know, Sirius. It's so...confusing."

He takes yet another step towards you, his lips curling into a challenging smile. Always challenging. "Confusing or scary?"

The tension between you two is palpable, and you wonder if he can hear the rapid beating of your heart, threatening to break out of your rib cage any given moment. You know you're fighting your own feelings, afraid of surrendering to something that may - and probably will - end in heartbreak.

"It's not fair," you whisper, trying to keep your voice steady. "It's not fair that you're so... so-"

"So what?" he teases, closer. "So handsome? So charming? So... irresistible?"

You can tell he's somehow having fun. You don't understand how he can maintain a playful tone in a moment like this.

You catch a whiff of his cologne, feel the warmth of his body, and your heart races once again. If there's a way to prevent Sirius from getting what he wants, you don't know what it is. "So confusing," you finish, almost in a whisper. "You confuse the hell out of me."

Sirius pauses for a moment, his eyes locked with yours, and you momentarily catch a flicker of something deeper in this playful gaze. He slowly raises a hand and gently, gentler than ever, caresses your face, his fingers tracing a delicate path along your skin.

"I don't see how I could be confusing you," he murmurs, his voice soft and husky. "I thought I was being pretty clear..." It's teasing, of course it is; when it comes to Sirius, few things aren't.

But there's something else behind it, too.

The air grows heavier.

"You're not clear about anything, Sirius," you reply, your voice faltering slightly. "I never know what you're thinking. I never know what you really mean."

"Maybe you're just not paying attention."

You furrow your brow, confused by Sirius' response. He's playing with you, as he always does, but this time it feels more intense, more meaningful. You struggle against the temptation to give in completely, to say something you might not be able to take back.

"I do pay attention, Sirius," you respond, your voice showing determination you're not entirely sure you feel. "It's you who likes to make everything more difficult than it needs to be."

He moves closer once again, so close now that you can feel his breath against your skin, the tip of his nose an inch away from touching yours.

"Do you want me to be clearer?" he whispers, voice laced with a hint of his usual mischief. "Make it easier?"

You swallow, feeling your heart race. You know you can't admit your feelings for him, you can't let your defenses down. Not when he makes a point to hide comfortably behind a facade, away from anything that makes him feel vulnerable.

You need honesty.

"Yes," you whisper, your voice almost faltering. "Yes, I do."

Sirius pauses for a moment, eyes searching yours, and you can feel your breath catch in your throat. Then, slowly, he moves closer and closer still, until his lips almost touch yours.

There is a feeling that you can't quite put into words.

"I want you," he murmurs, an admission that hangs in the air like a charged electric current. "I want to be with you. I want you to be happy– I'll even accept your awful taste in music," he adds with a playful smirk, teasingly referencing your occasional guilty pleasure for a particular genre of music that he often mocks.

A laugh escapes your lips, a combination of relief and affection. His sincerity is pretty close to melting away any remaining doubts that linger in your heart. "I have great taste in music," you state playfully.

Sirius brushes the side of his nose against yours affectionately. "Sometimes," he gives in, voice filled with genuine warmth.

You lean into his touch, savoring the tenderness and intimacy of the moment. It's as if the world around you has faded away, leaving only the two of you in this bubble of shared emotions.

"Sometimes?" you raise an eyebrow, pretending to be offended.

He chuckles, a low and melodic sound that resonates deep within your chest, a sound you don't get to hear as often as you'd like. "You're lucky you're pretty," he teases, his voice filled with affectionate playfulness.

"Oh?"

"I have a soft spot for pretty girls."

You roll your eyes but can't help the smile that forms on your lips. "Flattery will get you nowhere, Black."

Sirius leans in and presses a soft kiss to your cheek, pulling away with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Who said I was trying to get anywhere?" he whispers, fingers trailing along the curve of your waist, drawing you closer. "I'm already where I want to be."

Your heart swells with warmth, and you can feel a blush creeping up your cheeks.

"Smooth talker."

It doesn't sound like an accusation when you're about to kiss him.

#sirius black x reader #sirius black #sirius black x you #sirius black oneshot #sirius black imagine #sirius black fanfic #sirius black x fem!reader #sirius black fluff #sirius black angst #sirius x you #sirius x reader #marauders fanfic #marauders imagine #sirius black drabble #marauders drabble #marauders era

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darlingdaisyfarm · 2 months ago

Note

Could you write about stan or Ford taking care of their sick s/o? I've been suffering from an awful head cold this past week and it sucks i could really use the comfort 😭

sick days with Stan & Ford (x reader)

a/n: starting with smth sfw while i work on… other things hehehhe but I hope you’ll feel better! take your meds and let yourself rest 💌 and thank u for the ask, anon!!

Stanford Pines

the kind of man who fights interdimensional monsters but still worries if your tea is the right temperature.

he tucks you onto the couch, fussing over pillows and blankets until you’re buried like some kind of marshmallow. then he disappears into the kitchen, where you can hear pots clanging and. . . is that the blender?

when he returns, he’s holding a tray with a bowl of soup, a glass of water, and a strange concoction that’s vaguely green.

“head cold or not, you need fluids. hydration is important,” he says, setting a mug of something herbal-smelling on the coffee table. “this tea is from the forests of dimension 52. the locals swear by it for respiratory ailments.”

you squint at the mug. “it’s not gonna. . . mutate me, right?”

Ford pauses, adjusting his glasses. “probably not.”

“Ford!”

he chuckles, sitting beside you with a soft sigh. “it’s perfectly safe, i’ve tested it. besides, you trust me, don’t you?”

and of course you do, even when his idea of “helping” involves interdimensional remedies that could very well grow you a third arm.

you take a tentative sip. the taste is weird, but soothing, warming you from the inside out.

“good?” he asks, watching your face expression.

“yeah,” you admit, sinking deeper into the blanket. “not bad.”

satisfied or at least faking this, he leans back, but that little crinkle in his brow never really goes away.

“you’re overthinking again,” you notice, looking at him.

“i am not,” he says, entirely unconvincing.

“Ford.”

he sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. “i just hate seeing you like this, i keep thinking there must be something more i can do.”

you reach out, tangling your fingers with his. “you’re doing enough, really, just stay with me, okay?”

Ford’s expression softens and he brings your hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

“always.” and he stays, reading to you from one of his journals while you drift in and out of sleep. his voice is calm, comforting and every so often, he pauses to carefully check your temperature.

Stan Pines

you wake up with your throat feeling like sandpaper and your head pounding. you barely have the energy to groan, let alone drag yourself out of bed, but the world outside your room is loud. voices from the tv, Stan’s yelling at it.

with blanket wrapped around your shoulders, you stumble out and see Stan sprawled on the armchair in his striped boxers and tank top, he’s shoving popcorn into his mouth by the handful, but when he sees you, he nearly chokes on it.

“jeez, you look like somethin’ the cat dragged in. worse than waddles after he found that mud pit last week.”

you sniffle. “thanks for the pep talk, Stan.”

he waves you over as his tone softens. “c’mon, c’mere. what’s wrong? flu? cold? bubonic plague? don’t tell me you’re contagious.”

you plop next to him, dropping your head onto his shoulder. the tv’s too loud, but you can’t even complain about it.

“it’s just a cold,” you murmur.

“cold, huh? well, that’s nothing to mess with,” you can hear the tease in his voice. “lemme get my doctor bag. got some snake oil in there that cures everything, even bad attitudes.”

he shuffles off to the kitchen, muttering about needing to find some ginger ale. he comes back with a mug of tea that looks. . . questionable. is that a bay leaf? and a handful of mints?

“drink this, kid, don’t ask questions.”

you sip and it’s awful. Stan grins as you make grimace. “told ya it’s magic. now, get cozy.”

he turns the tv down and drapes his old, scratchy afghan over you. you don’t know when it happens, maybe during some ridiculous commercial for glow-in-the-dark socks, but you fall asleep with your head still on his shoulder.

when you wake up, the tea’s gone, replaced by a cup of melted ice cream with a sticky spoon, meanwhile Stan is snoring loudly with his arm protectively thrown over you.

#gravity falls #x reader #fanfic #gravity falls x you #ford pines x reader #gravity falls x reader #gravity falls smut #stan pines x reader #ford pines smut #stanford pines #stan pines smut #gravity falls fanfiction #stan pines x you #ford pines x you #ford pines x oc #stanley pines smut #stanley pines x reader

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thewritergremlin-rae · 4 months ago

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Hi! If you wanted to could you write a Soulmate AU or Drunken confessions (Loki x reader) pls thanks <333

Thanks for the request anon! I have way too many soulmate AU ideas already so I went with drunken confessions ehehehe

A Casual Exchange

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Rating: M

Words: 763

Content: 2nd person, fluff, drunken/tipsy reader

Summary: Your night winds to a close - your parting words leaving Loki stunned.

AO3: HERE

Banner by cafekitsune

You hadn’t meant to get drunk.

No. Really.

You’d been nursing one glass, only it had never ended. You had a feeling your favourite Asgardian had something to do with it. Plopping down on the couch, your drink sloshed but you didn’t feel a splash and, looking over at Loki, none of it had spilt on him either.

Your eyes got a little stuck on Loki, like they always did. Such a beautiful being. Skin - flawless, cheekbones - sharp enough to cut yourself on, legs - never ending.

The sound of him clearing his throat brought your gaze back to his face but you didn’t feel any of that familiar, heavy embarrassment in your stomach. You laughed as he arched a delicate eyebrow.

“Yes, dear?” His eyes sparkled with mischief, his gaze washing over your swaying, the slight dazed look in your eyes, and the curve of your lips as you giggled.

The giggling was his favourite.

“Are you having fun, Loki?” You laid your arm out over the back of the couch and flopped your head down on it as you waited for his answer. Fingers caught the end of his curls, twisting and twirling them, brain fizzing and focusing on the silky feel.

Loki snorted softly, you having no idea you’d missed his answer. “You seem to be having far more fun.”

You giggled again and tugged a little on the curl, watching it bounce back into place. “Yeah… Do you use magic on these?” You flicked a curl again and his long fingers curled around your traitorous ones.

“No, that would be pointless when I can simply use products. And I certainly would never be so strange as Midgardians as to put dangerous chemicals in my hair to change the colour.”

Your eyebrows furrowed as you processed the information. “Guess you’re right. See, that’s why humans should be feared. What other race kept eating mushrooms until they found the ones that made them trip balls?”

“You also season your food with peppers that developed semi-poisonous defense mechanisms to avoid being eaten, your race deciding that that makes them taste good.”

You laughed and grinned. “Jalapeno poppers are the best and you’re just jealous you don’t have processed sugar on your planet.”

Loki gave an elegant shrug. “I concede that chocolate is certainly one of your species’ better inventions.” He smiled, pulling a bar seemingly from nowhere as he traded it for your drink.

Probably a good idea, you were just on the edge of sober enough to know that as you dug in and nibbled. “Thanks, Loki, you’re the best.”

A subtle twitch in his expression caught your eye but you weren’t sharp enough to figure it out right now. Actually, Loki should have some of this chocolate too but his hands were pretty full.

You snapped off a piece and held it to his lips, grinning when he accepted it with nothing more than a cocked eyebrow. But he soon got his own back, dragging a gasp from your soft lips when he nipped the tip of your thumb.

You stared at your thumb as you brought it back to you. It tingled a little, still warm.

“A good idea. Good night.”

A distant laugh had the sounds of the party around you filtering back in and you realised it’s a little loud. “Me and the chocolate are going to go to bed.”

Loki seemed a little sad to lose your company but perhaps he shouldn’t have refilled your cup so much. No-one was ever thankful for a hangover.

“Night night, Loki. Love you.” You leaned forward with a bounce to kiss his cheek and got to your feet, leaving him stunned.

Did you just say…

You waved to him as if you didn’t just profess your love for him and disappeared inside the elevator. How could you not realise….?

You hummed to yourself, nibbling at the chocolate. Head empty, no thoughts as you crossed to your bedroom door.

Wait.

Did you say ‘love you’ to Loki? Your brain slowly swung back to the memory and your eyes widened when you heard the words in your own voice.

Oh shit. You hurried back to the elevator, cut short by the appearance of a firm chest in your narrowed field of vision.

“Did we perhaps realise what we said, love?” Loki whispered, hoping he looked not the least bit flustered by your casual admission. His arms caught you and held you close before he caught your lips.

“Loki…” you breathed and he chuckled.

“I might be persuaded to remind you come morning.”

Want to be tagged in future Loki fic? Go here

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Tags: @kindadolly

@ilovetaquitosmmmm

@satan-ate-my-sandwitch

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#loki x reader #loki odinson x reader #loki laufesyon x reader #loki x y/n #loki x you #loki fluff #x reader #mcu reader insert #mcu x reader

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yuujispinkhair · 11 months ago

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It's weird but was thinking at the fact that Sukuna is can**bal and then was thinking that he would not eat only reader because he loves her (I'm delulu lol)

Then just to make it more "realistic" and a little "less delulu" this scene came to my mind: Sukuna is convinced he wants to eat reader but the moment he closes up the distance with her he realizes for the first time in his life that's an other type of hunger🤭

Oooh yes I love that!! I am thinking about a story set in the Heian era. Trueform!Sukuna x Reader (female). Warnings: 18+, mentions of smut, mentions of cannibalism. Minors don't interact.

Sukuna, The King of Curses, runs into a regular peasant girl and is instantly absolutely mesmerized by your scent. It gives him a strange fluttery feeling in his stomach and causes his veins to fill with a weird buzzing. He assumes it must mean you are a special delicacy.

Usually, the great Sukuna-sama doesn't hand-pick his meals. He trusts Uraume with that task. But you are standing right in front of him, and you smell so magical to him that it makes his head spin. And Sukuna is a gourmet, and he always takes what he desires, so he decides to take you with him.

But since you seem to be such a special treat, Sukuna wants to wait. He wants to make sure to get the best out of you. He tells Uraume to give you a room with a soft bed, feed you well, and make sure you get your daily massages and the best oils for your baths, so your flesh and skin will be tender and juicy when the time comes for you to become Sukuna's special delicacy.

But his hunger for you becomes a constant distraction. Anytime Sukuna catches a glimpse of you, he feels like his heart wants to burst out of his chest. And it's not just that. Sukuna has always seen eating as a form of carnal desire, but it never made him feel aroused to such an extent.

He even thinks about you when he hasn't seen you for days. It bothers him. It makes him wonder and try to come up with an explanation. But he doesn't find one.

A big festivity is held in Sukuna's honor, and he decides this will be the day he finally eats his special delicacy. And since you are so special, Sukuna tells Uraume that he wants to be one who slashes your throat. Maybe even take a bite from you while you are still living and breathing.

But he cannot do it. He stares at you with wide eyes while a voice inside his head screams at him not to kill you. It's so confusing because, at the same time, he feels this hunger again, even stronger than before now that he is so close to you. And why does his gaze seem glued to your lips? Why do his arms twitch with the desire to wrap around you?

At that moment, Sukuna realizes that he was very wrong. It makes him laugh softly and shake his head, amused by his mistake. Oh, this is certainly a kind of hunger he feels, but he knows now that he doesn't want to eat you.

He wants to consume you in other ways. He wants to feel your pretty lips on his and drink your spit while he kisses you. He wants to bite your shoulder in a passionate moment and lick up the small droplets of blood. He wants to bury his face between your thighs and drink the sweet arousal from your core. He wants to keep you on his cocks and fill you with his seed, mixing your essences with each other.

#tw cannibalism #sukuna x reader #sukuna #tw dark content

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is-the-sky-blue · 6 months ago

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WHY DIDN'T YOU NOTICE: GOJO SATORU & GETO SUGURU

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, satosugu x reader, public sex (no one gets caught), handjob, oral (m receiving), praise, penetration (only during the bonus)

You didn't notice it at first.

You sat perched in a little oak chair, the plump cushion comfortable as you leaned back, listening to your friends chatter, the long tablecloth draped over the wooden table spilling to the floor in front of your legs and you slipped your toes beneath it, the fabric cold against your exposed ankles, feet dressed in pretty pink heels as your manicured nails, a present from your obnoxiously wealthy boyfriend, toyed with the sparkling silverware.

Today was a day of fun.

The pendant lights hanging above you casted a warm glow over your group of friends as the atmosphere was alight with laughter, the consistent hum of conversation never ending as it continued to flow languidly, shifting from one topic to another as you all cracked joke after joke.

You honed in on the many different snippets of talk happening around you, listening as Shoko whined, leisurely sipping on wine, that stained her already lipstick painted lips, red as she complained about all the nuisances coming in with what she claimed to be minor injuries, "They can just slap a band aid on it and call it a day," she complained, holding the stem of her glass tight between her fingers as she went for yet another swig.

"I don't think putting a band aid on a broken arm will just magically heal it," Utahime laughed incredulously, and you had to stifle a giggle as Ieiri furrowed her brows, drunken lips pulling into a pout.

"You are supposed to be on my side!"

You didn't notice it as you watched Haibara elbow Nanami, watching as the blond man sighed as the dark haired man merely laughed.

"Come on lighten up a little," he grinned, "it's not every day we can all hang out!"

"Yeah Nanami," you tease, the said man merely closing his eyes, pinching the corners with his fingers, he really didn't get paid enough to hang around with fools like you.

Your table was roaring with laughter and idle chatter but quickly what you did notice was how the overeager voice of your most endearingly obnoxious partner, Satoru, was yet to be heard. It was strange, he was always one to butt in on any and all conversations with his unasked for opinion.

You turn your attention to in front of you where both your boyfriends sit contently, backs against the wall as they sat on the side of the booth with the couch, much to your dismay. As you faced them Suguru only offered you a loving smile, his hair framing his face delicately and you had to admire your handiwork as before you left the house you finally managed to convince Suguru to fix the bun he half-assedly threw his hair in. Despite wanting to admire your lover your real concern lied with Satoru.

You cocked a confused brow at him, "You okay Toru?" you ask, trying to figure out what's wrong as despite his lips being curled in a grin it didn't hold as much shit eating coyness as usual, it was as though he was trying to paint an image on his face to show that he was fine, but you've stared at his teasing smiles enough throughout the years to know when he was faking one.

"I-" he chokes out before biting his tongue and you began to grow more concerned, "m' fine," he slurred together, was he drunk? He couldn't be... could he, he doesn't even like alcohol.

"Are you sure love?" you question, reaching for his hand that was pressed in a tight fist, causing his knuckles to turn white but as you lay a comforting touch he jerked away. "Satoru?" you say again, growing slightly anxious as he began to now reach for you, gripping your offered hand, fingers digging into your palm as he grit his teeth. His face was oddly flushed. He has to be drunk, but that didn't make sense, he doesn't even have a wine glass on him, was he drinking Suguru's?

"He's alright baby," the black haired man finally spoke up, you weren't worried about his lack of remarks in the group chatter, he was always one who liked to listen and offer up a random snappy quip that usually sent the table howling, but the glint in his eyes had got you feeling suspicious.

"Uhuh," you bite your lip, tasting the cherry lip gloss that your sweets loving boyfriend always begged you to wear, trying to see through the man afore you who had his glasses beginning to slip down the bridge of his nose but made no move to adjust them. "Are you feeling overwhelmed Satoru," you question, the clammy skin of him palms pressing against yours as he tightly interlocked your fingers, but instead of an answer your query only seemed to spark a certain smugness to alight in Suguru.

"Mmm are you feeling overwhelmed Sa, to, ru" he sang mockingly, leaning into the snowy haired boy's ear as he broke apart the syllables of his name and you could only feel the man clutch your hand tighter, his facial expressions not betraying him but the bead of sweat that formed on his forehead, and the quiet curse he mumbled had the dots connecting in your brain.

"Seriously," you gape, running a soothing hand over the man's knuckles as you stared utterly shocked at Suguru.

"What?" he mused, shit eating grin that usually planted on Satoru's lips now mirrored on his, and you could finally see all the signs.

Satoru being awfully quiet, the lacking coyness in his demeanor, his slurred words, his blushed cheeks, his tight grip on your hands and the out of pocket teasing cockiness exuding from Suguru.

"Here," you hissed in disbelief and you extended your foot under the table, knocking Satoru's spread ones and while he was one to man spread like a lunatic you could feel the muscles in his legs spasm.

"Whatever do you mean," the dark haired man grinned.

"I think you know."

"I don't think I do."

You rubbed a comforting foot over Satoru's calf as you brought a gentle kiss to his knuckles, trying to ease his suffering inflicted by the lunatic sitting next to him. "Where's my kiss," Suguru smiles and you only send him a glare, taking note of how only one of his hands were present atop the table, the hand furthest from Satoru.

You watched as a muscle pinched in your white haired partner's forehead, his lips pursing tightly together to keep any sound from escaping his mouth. "You don't get one," you spit, watching as his lips fall into a half-hearted pout.

"So cruel."

"Says you," and you are careful to keep your voice low, despite everyone being borderline drunk and tipsy, you didn't really want to deal with anyone figuring out that your boyfriend was giving your other boyfriend a hand job under the table, your bonds may be close with your friends but they weren't that strong.

"I-" a quiet whisper of a sob, "mm," he hums instead, his voice weak and shaky as Suguru continues his relentless motions, "gonna-" he whimpers and you hear the perpetrator tut at him, tsking as though Satoru was the one misbehaving.

"If you do it now everyone is gonna notice," you can hear Suguru chide, chuckling at how Satoru visibly deflates, muscles straining and behind his glasses you spot a wet sheen threatening to break over his eyes.

"You need to stop," you whisper and the black haired man only coos.

"You can't really be asking me to leave him like this," he feigns a pitying gasp, leg lifting yours and you could feel yourself brush against Satoru's rigidly hard weeping member, a slick sheen of pre-cum staining your skin and you see Satoru bite back a moan, leaning closer into Suguru's shoulder, his head shaking.

To anyone else it'd look like Satoru was being his normal clingy self, shoving himself into Suguru's space and whining about something mundane as usual. The look on Satoru's face, while you would call it desperate, others wouldn't be able to tell otherwise and you had to commend the man on having such good control over his facial reactions.

"Pl-please I can't, I need to, need to," he started to beg.

"I want to but our little princess won't let me," and he passes the mean role onto you as he stares at you as though you were the one putting your submissive lover into such a sorry state.

His pretty pink lips jutted into a pout, nose crinkling as his hands pawed at yours, clinging to you tighter. "Please," he whined, desperate and pathetic and you swore you could see the tears begin to form, "P-please, please, please," he recited like a mantra, voice high pitched and shaky as he forced himself to remain quiet. "I-I'll d-do whatever ya want, please baby," he dug his nails into your hand and your captive leg brushing against him could feel as tiny blobs slipped down his shaft, wetting your flesh, you could feel Suguru's knuckles as he stroked at a menacing pace and you found yourself squeezing your thighs together, your mouth suddenly dry as you stared into his despair filled eyes, pleading for relief.

"I- Satoru," you tried to chastise but you felt too sorry for him to really hold any anger, "take him to the bathroom," you try, conflicted eyes shifting to your dark haired partner and you could hear Suguru tsk.

"You think nobody is going to see our little baby boy's problem," he says condescendingly and you can tell from where you sat Suguru placed a taunting squeeze on your writhing angel.

"P-Please," he hiccupped quietly into his partner's shoulder, staring at you wide eyed, those big blue irises shaking with need and you left out a sigh of exasperation. These two were going to be the death of you.

Carefully you pulled your leg away and the look on Satoru's face had your heart melting with pity as you slipped your hand from his grasp, ignoring his sobbing plea as you reached for a piece of cutlery, carefully toying with it, the prongs of the fork pricking the tip of your finger before you set it down dangerously close to the edge of the table.

You could hear Suguru coo sweet nothings into his white hair as you 'accidentally' bonked your elbow into the edge of the fork, causing it to clatter to the floor.

"Shit," you murmur as though you had inconvenienced yourself, heel sliding against the tile as you tried to pull the fork closer to you so you could lean down and pick it up, only for you to once again, 'accidentally' kick it further under the table. "Oops," you laugh so fakely that if your friends weren't nearly 5 bottles deep in alcohol they'd surely call you out on your bluff. You could only hear Shoko murmur a slight, "oh no," before returning to her glass.

You turn to face the two boys once more and the smug grin on Suguru's face had you sticking your tongue out at him before you slipped from your chair and kneeled to the floor, pulling yourself beneath the table cloth as you ducked your head underneath the table, carefully crawling forward as you patted around, pretending to search for your abandoned fork as you eyed the sinful sight in front of you.

Merely a breath away he stood throbbing, beads drooling from his tip in tiny rivulets, catching at his tense balls that strained in pain. His crying head red and needy, the sheen coating his length shimmering beneath the light that ever so slightly crept in from where Suguru slipped in his hand, thick fingers fisting tightly, sliding up and down as Satoru's dick jumped in his grasp. Satoru's long legs, fidgeting and tensing, were spread wide enough to let you slip between them, and carefully you blew a gentle gust over his hanging balls, listening to the schlick, schlick, schlick, of his pre-cum dragging across his cock from Suguru's unrelenting strokes, listening to the very quiet whine that had Satoru's hips squirming.

Leaning forward you press a tender kiss to his sticky tip, feeling your lip gloss smear with his essence as you extend your tongue, kitten licking the small droplets that formed on the end incessantly, the salty liquid coating the inside of your mouth. Suguru held him steady, angling his springing dick, that wanted to jut up and hug his chiseled torso, forward so you could easily capture him in your mouth, carefully letting him slip between your lips.

You watched as one of the hands he had gripping the booth couch snaked forward, aiming for your hair to pull you further down his length and you harshly swat it away, you still had to come out from under this table looking like you were searching for your fork, not sucking off your boyfriend's throbbing cock. Instead you grabbed his hand and laced your fingers, resting it atop his knee as you used your other hand to smack his inner thigh as punishment and you could feel him jump in your mouth as you captured him further.

If you truly wanted to be mean, and if this was happening in any other place that wasn't public, you would've pulled off his dick and wait until he begged you with apologies, but you were feeling quite nice and Suguru was already tormenting him enough.

Loosening your throat you let yourself slip down, bracing yourself on his thighs as you pushed your weight onto your knees, that would bruise in the morning, circling him with your tongue as Suguru moved his fist, groping his balls as he let your mouth squeeze the final pumps out of him.

The cherry lip gloss you wore coated his skin as you bobbed your head, squeezing his hand in yours as you carefully swatted at Suguru's knee, 'let him cum already'.

There was a heavy breath of silence as you continued your suckling, chest thumping in anticipation until you could barely hear the words, "cum," echo down from above you. Not even a beat later thick white streams poured down your throat in salty, bitter, but somehow slightly sweet spurts. Carefully you drank it all up, focusing on not spilling even a drop, not wanting to leave a single spec of evidence of your little adventure beneath this table for anyone to find. As you licked it up, tasting the very last squirms trickle into your mouth, you swallowed, feeling him grow limp as you pulled off with a satisfying pop.

Licking your lips, you carefully lapped up the final juices that clung to the underside of his softening dick, watching as he squirmed from overstimulation as Suguru let go of his balls. Soon salty fingers found their way shoving into your mouth and you grimaced before obliging, suckling his fingertips regardless of the fact that you were still mad at him for doing this in a public place, and around your friends no less.

Let's just say you bit down on him before pulling away.

Taking a breather you waited a moment, using this time to pat around the floor before finally exclaiming a phony, "aha!" as you grabbed the fork that had ended up laying next to Satoru's foot the entire time. Clutching the fork in your grasp you collected yourself before clambering out from under the table, returning to your seat, looking the same, only a tad bit breathless as you placed the utensil onto the tablecloth that had hid your sinful excursion.

"Oh you found it," Suguru chimed, grinning, tapping his spit soaked and bite mark fingertips atop the cloth as Satoru leaned into him, resting his eyes, and you began to wonder what type of faces he made as he came.

Damnit Suguru!

If he did this at home you could've at least watched the erotic show, now your lip gloss was gone, smudged all over Satoru's dick, and you were all hot and bothered and you had to sit here until the night was over.

With a fuming huff you stared at the spent Satoru and smug Suguru.

Today was supposed to be fun, but you weren't supposed to be having this type of fun

You furrowed your brows, letting out a sigh as you moved to reach for your glass only for Suguru to place his only clean hand on your cheek. You send him a glare but your face flushes as he runs a finger over the corner of your mouth, collecting the little gift Satoru had given you before licking it off his thumb.

Damnit Suguru, if only you had noticed it earlier

Bonus:

Your thighs began to burn as you felt deft fingertips run over your clit, your head, burrowed in the crook of Satoru's neck as he pounded up into you, Suguru taking you from the back as your sweat soaked bodies tangled together. Satoru's lithe fingers cascading through your hair as he pulled your bleary eyed face into his view.

"Shoulda let me put my hands into your hair earlier," he sinfully sang, pressing a kiss to your moaning lips and you could only let out a whimpering laugh as he pulled away.

"Hell no," you smirk, feeling him thrust up in retaliation at your little snicker at his expense, "shouldn't have done it in public then," you whisper between breathy whines, feeling the knot in your stomach grow.

"Mmm but wasn't it so much fun," Suguru rumbled over into your back as he thrusted quickly, trying to chase his high.

"Mhm" is all you could snarkily murmur as you leaned into Satoru, this time his back was pressed up against the plush pillows of your bed, "I think this is more fun," you huff out, feeling your orgasm creep.

"Think yer just greedy," Satoru taunts, watching as you come undone from all the attention they gave to your ravenous little hole.

"Says you!" you swat at his chest weakly, feeling the cord snap and you began to start spilling, hips grinding for more friction as they pampered your writhing body with kisses.

Maybe it was a good thing you didn't notice it at first.

#satosugu x reader #satosugu x you #satosugu x y/n #satoru x reader x suguru #gojo x reader x geto #jjk smut #smut #polyamory #jjk x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujustsu kaisen x reader

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bratzkoo · 5 months ago

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barely yours | mingyu pt. 3

Author: bratzkoo | navi Pairing: rockstar! mingyu x reader Word Count: 2.3k Genre: fluff, angst, smut-ish Rating: NC-17 Possible Warnings: mingyu is only 1/2 idiot. it's gonna make sense soon, i promise. written in third person.

Summary: you flirt, you fuck, but when you hint that you want to be more he dismissed it as if you’re joking… and when you decide to ignore him he comes back with flowers at your doorstep.

taglist (hit me up if you wanna be added): @ca-clover , @junniesoleilkth , @gaslysainz , @darkerrdaze , @mansaaay , @childish-fear , @whoa-jo , @movingalongfrs , @lixisoul99 , @cherrylovescheol , @yuyu1024 , @tacolombe , @black-swan-blog27 , @tulipndtale , @xuimhao , @cookiearmy find other parts here! pt.1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3 | pt. 4

requests are open, but you can just say hi! | masterlist

The first rays of sunlight filtered through Y/N's living room curtains, casting a warm glow on Mingyu's sleeping form. He stirred, his face scrunching up as consciousness slowly returned. As he blinked awake, confusion clouded his features. This wasn't his room. This wasn't even his apartment. The unfamiliar ceiling above him swam into focus, and with it came a throbbing headache that made him groan.

Suddenly, the events of the previous night came rushing back in fragmented flashes. The company party. The shattered glass. The burning of soju down his throat. Coming to Y/N's apartment... Mingyu's eyes widened in horror as more details surfaced. Had he really gotten down on his knees and begged Y/N to leave Seungcheol? He groaned again, this time out of sheer mortification, covering his face with his hands.

"Good morning, sleeping beauty," Y/N's voice came from the direction of the kitchen, tinged with a mix of amusement and something else Mingyu couldn't quite place. Was it concern? Pity? He was afraid to find out.

Slowly, cautiously, Mingyu sat up. The room spun for a moment before settling, and he found himself face to face with Y/N, who stood in the kitchen doorway holding two steaming mugs. She looked tired, with slight shadows under her eyes suggesting she hadn't slept much, but there was a softness in her gaze that gave Mingyu a flicker of hope.

"Y/N, I..." Mingyu started, his voice raspy from sleep and last night's excesses. But Y/N cut him off with a gentle shake of her head.

"Drink this first," she said, stepping forward to hand him one of the mugs. "It's my special hangover cure. Then we'll talk."

Mingyu accepted the mug gratefully, inhaling the strange but not unpleasant aroma. He took a cautious sip, and despite the odd mix of sweet and bitter flavors, he could almost feel it working its magic on his aching head.

As Mingyu sipped his drink, Y/N busied herself in the kitchen. Soon, the apartment was filled with the comforting aroma of coffee and something cooking. The domestic scene struck Mingyu as both familiar and achingly out of reach. How many mornings had he imagined waking up to this very scenario? But not like this. Never like this.

"I hope you're hungry," Y/N called out, her voice carrying a forced cheerfulness that didn't quite mask the underlying tension. "I'm making pancakes."

Mingyu's stomach growled in response, reminding him that he hadn't eaten since before the party. "Sounds great," he managed, his voice a bit steadier now. "Can I... can I help with anything?"

Y/N poked her head out of the kitchen, a small smile playing on her lips. "Just focus on feeling human again. I've got this."

A few minutes later, they sat at Y/N's small dining table, a stack of fluffy pancakes between them. The sight and smell were enticing, but Mingyu found it hard to do more than pick at his food. The gravity of the situation – of what he'd done and said last night – weighed heavily on him.

For a long moment, neither spoke. The only sounds were the clink of cutlery against plates and the muffled noises of the city waking up outside. Mingyu stole glances at Y/N between bites, trying to gauge her mood. She seemed calm, but there was a tightness around her eyes that betrayed her own unease.

Finally, unable to bear the silence any longer, Mingyu set down his fork and took a deep breath. "Y/N, I am so, so sorry about last night. I was completely out of line, showing up here drunk like that. I never meant to put you in that position or make you uncomfortable. It was selfish and stupid, and I—"

Y/N held up a hand, cutting off his rambling apology. She set down her own fork and met his gaze squarely. "Mingyu, before you say anything else, I need to ask you something. Do you... do you remember what happened last night? What you said?"

Mingyu felt heat creep up his neck, a blush spreading across his cheeks. "Most of it, yeah," he admitted, dropping his gaze to his half-eaten pancakes. "It's a bit fuzzy around the edges, but... I remember what I said. What I confessed." He forced himself to look back up at Y/N, knowing he owed her that much. "And I meant it. Every word. Even if my delivery left a lot to be desired."

Y/N's expression softened, a mix of emotions flitting across her face too quickly for Mingyu to decipher. She took a deep breath, as if steeling herself for something. "Mingyu, there's something I need to tell you. About Seungcheol and me."

Mingyu tensed, bracing himself for the worst. Was this where she told him she was in love with Seungcheol? That his drunken confession had ruined their friendship?

"We're not really dating," Y/N said in a rush, the words tumbling out as if she was afraid she'd lose her nerve if she didn't say them quickly. "It was... it was all fake. A plan to make you jealous."

Mingyu blinked, sure he must have misheard. "What?"

Y/N sighed, running a hand through her hair – a nervous habit Mingyu had always found endearing. "I know it sounds crazy, but just... let me explain, okay?"

And so she did. Y/N laid out the whole story – Seungcheol's idea, born out of frustration with the tension between Mingyu and Y/N. The band's involvement, their well-meaning but misguided attempt to push Mingyu and Y/N together. The carefully orchestrated "dates," the inside jokes, the lingering touches – all designed to provoke a reaction from Mingyu.

As Y/N spoke, Mingyu's expression shifted from confusion to understanding to something like wonder. Pieces of the puzzle that had been nagging at him for weeks suddenly fell into place. The knowing looks between the other band members. Seungcheol's sudden interest in Y/N's work. The way Vernon and Wonwoo always seemed to be pushing them together.

When Y/N finally fell silent, Mingyu let out a long breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "So, let me get this straight," he said slowly. "You're not in love with Seungcheol?"

Y/N shook her head, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "No, I'm not. He's a good friend, but that's all."

A smile started to spread across Mingyu's face, hope blooming in his chest. "And everything I said last night... you heard all that knowing it wasn't about breaking you and Seungcheol up, but about us? About how I really feel?"

Y/N nodded, a blush coloring her cheeks. "Yeah, I did."

The realization hit Mingyu like a wave, washing away the last of his hangover-induced fog. He reached across the table, taking Y/N's hand in his. Her skin was soft and warm, fitting perfectly in his larger palm. "Then you know how I feel," he said softly, his eyes never leaving hers. "Y/N, I meant every word. I love you. I have for... god, probably since the moment we met. I was just too scared to admit it, even to myself. But I'm not scared anymore." He squeezed her hand gently. "I want us to be together, for real this time. No games, no pretending. Just us."

Y/N's breath caught at Mingyu's words, and for a moment, he could see everything he felt reflected in her eyes – love, longing, hope. But then something else crept in. Hesitation. She gently extracted her hand from his, and Mingyu felt his heart sink.

"Mingyu, I..." Y/N started, her voice soft but firm. "I can't deny that I have feelings for you too. Strong feelings. But..."

Mingyu's face fell. "But?"

Y/N sighed, pushing her plate aside and leaning forward, her elbows on the table. "But I think we both need some time. To grow, to figure out who we are outside of this... whatever this has been between us." She gestured vaguely between them. "I need to focus on myself for a while."

Mingyu was quiet for a moment, processing Y/N's words. His first instinct was to argue, to plead his case. But as he looked at Y/N – really looked at her – he saw the determination in her eyes, the quiet strength that had first drawn him to her. And he realized that maybe, just maybe, she was right.

Slowly, he nodded. "I understand," he said, surprising himself with how much he meant it. "And you're right. We've both made mistakes, acted out of fear or jealousy or... whatever it was that made us think a fake dating scheme was a good idea." That drew a small laugh from Y/N, easing some of the tension. "Maybe some time to grow individually wouldn't be a bad thing."

Relief washed over Y/N's face. "You're not upset?"

Mingyu smiled, a genuine, warm smile that made Y/N's heart flutter despite her best efforts. "How could I be upset? You're not rejecting me, you're just asking for time. And after everything, I think we both deserve that."

He reached out again, this time just lightly touching Y/N's hand where it rested on the table. "You know, whatever happens, know that I'm yours. Whether as a friend or something more, I'm here. Always."

Y/N couldn't help the laugh that bubbled up, bright and genuine. "Barely," she joked, her eyes sparkling with mirth.

It took Mingyu a second to get the reference, but when he did, he joined in her laughter. The sound filled the apartment, chasing away the last of the tension that had hung between them. As their laughter subsided, they found themselves smiling at each other across the table, a new understanding passing between them.

They finished their breakfast in comfortable silence, both lost in thought but no longer weighed down by unspoken feelings or misunderstandings. As Mingyu helped Y/N clear the dishes, he felt lighter than he had in months.

"So," he said as he dried the last plate, handing it to Y/N to put away, "what happens now?"

Y/N closed the cabinet and turned to face him, leaning against the counter. "Now... we focus on ourselves. On our careers, on our personal growth. We figure out who we are as individuals, not just as... whatever we were."

Mingyu nodded, mirroring her pose against the opposite counter. "And us? Where do we stand?"

Y/N smiled, a soft, genuine smile that made Mingyu's heart skip a beat. "Friends," she said firmly. "Real friends this time. No games, no hidden agendas. Just two people who care about each other, supporting each other as we grow."

"Friends," Mingyu repeated, testing the word out. It wasn't everything he wanted, but it was a start. A foundation they could build on. "I like the sound of that."

Y/N pushed off from the counter, closing the distance between them. For a moment, Mingyu thought she might hug him, but she stopped just short, looking up at him with an expression he couldn't quite read. "Mingyu," she said softly, "I need you to understand something. This isn't a 'no.' It's a 'not yet.' Can you... can you be okay with that?"

Mingyu felt something warm unfurl in his chest – hope, fragile but persistent. He reached out, gently tucking a strand of hair behind Y/N's ear. "I can be very patient when it's for something worthwhile," he said, his voice low and sincere. "And you, Y/N? You're worth waiting for."

Y/N's eyes shimmered with unshed tears, but her smile was radiant. She stepped forward, wrapping her arms around Mingyu in a tight hug. He returned the embrace, breathing in the familiar scent of her shampoo, committing this moment to memory.

When they finally pulled apart, both were a little misty-eyed, but there was a newfound lightness between them. The air felt clearer somehow, as if a storm had passed, leaving behind the promise of better days ahead.

Mingyu glanced at the clock on the wall, realizing with a start how much time had passed. "I should probably get going," he said reluctantly. "We have that radio interview this afternoon, and I should probably change and, uh, look less like I spent the night on someone's couch."

Y/N laughed, the sound music to Mingyu's ears. "Probably a good idea. We wouldn't want to start any new rumors, would we?"

As Mingyu gathered his things and made his way to the door, he paused, turning back to Y/N. "Hey, want to get coffee sometime this week? As friends?"

Y/N's smile was answer enough, but she nodded anyway. "I'd like that. Text me?"

"Definitely," Mingyu promised. He hesitated for a moment, then leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to Y/N's cheek. "Thank you," he murmured. "For everything."

Y/N's cheeks flushed pink, but her smile never wavered. "Go on, get out of here before I change my mind and keep you hostage."

Mingyu laughed, giving her a mock salute before heading out the door. As he walked down the hallway, he couldn't help but start humming a new melody.

In her apartment, Y/N leaned against the closed door, her fingers lightly touching the spot where Mingyu had kissed her.

#svt #mansaenetwork #mingyu fic #kim mingyu #mingyu #mingyu imagine #kim mingyu fic #seventeen scenarios #svt scenarios #mingyu fluff #mingyu angst #mingyu smut #svt x reader #mingyu x reader #kim mingyu x reader #rockstar! mingyu

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