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changingplumbob · 1 month

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Pancake Household: Chapter 9, Part 1

Time to check in with the Pancakes stack!

Nicknames: Bob = Sleek, Eliza = Jumble

Brindleton Bay in autumn, the best world/season combo or so I’ve been told. We start with Ginger chasing her tail and Bob and Eliza waking up.

Eliza: You ready for tonight?

Bob: Tonight?

Eliza: The dinner party Sleek

Bob: I remember we were having one I just didn’t remember it was tonight. Let me just call in work

Eliza: I could always cook

She looks at him but can only keep her face composed for a few seconds before laughing at her own joke.

Bob: *laughs* Let’s not burn the house down Jumble

Since we’ve last visited the youngest Pancake, Fergus, has been diagnosed with ADHD. He wants to see if he can manage without medication for the moment which makes Eliza a little nervous now and then.

Fergus: Morning dad, morning mother. Is Emi still coming for dinner

Eliza: Her and her parents, as well as Onyx’s friend Carson and his parents

Fergus: Just remember you have to call her Artemisia because you’re normal, I get to call her Emi because I’m her friend

Eliza: *quietly* Thank the watcher our eldest picked a simple name

Bob: You’re telling me

Bob stands and pulls Eliza up to kiss her on the cheek. He’s hoping they’ll have a daughter soon.

Onyx: Good morning everyone. Dad, mother, I couldn’t help but notice we still have a horse shaped hole in our lawn

Fergus: Did you dig up the yard?

Onyx: It’s an expression *switches to talking to Eliza* because I’m an A student mother

Eliza: Must be the only grade A student in detention

Onyx: It was one detention! Everyone gets at least one detention

Eliza: I didn’t

Bob: It’s not the detention that’s a problem. Your mother and I are concerned about how you’d manage taking care of a horse on top of your school and cheerleading responsibilities

Onyx: I’d fit it in. Please mother, I’m sad I don’t have a horse

Eliza: How about a test then

Onyx: A test?

Eliza: You take over walking Ginger for a while and if you can manage that we can talk about a horse again

Onyx: Deal. My dog walking skills will be legendary

The table bursts into laughter at this response.

Eliza: Oh I do love your confidence honey

Bob: Of course we’re lucky we can afford Ginger

Eliza: Bob…

Bob: For a while there my books weren’t doing so good

Onyx: They weren’t?

Bob: The first critic, what did he say Jumble?

Eliza: *sternly* Bob

Bob: That it was expensive toilet paper

Onyx: Oh my watcher! That’s awful! Is that why we had to move? Do we owe the mob money? Will they kill us in our sleep

Bob: What?

Clearly surprised that this new has upset Onyx, Bob turns to his wife to signal for help. Good thing she’s already prepared.

Eliza: It was a long time ago and we got through it. We may not be rolling in simoleons like some other families but we’re certainly in no danger of losing Ginger or the house

Bob: You’ll see Onyx, we’ll be… good?

Eliza: Thank you Bob, that was very convincing

Bob: *laughs* Thank the watcher charisma levels can’t go backwards

Onyx: I just have to do my homework mother then I’ll walk Ginger, you’ll see, I’ll have loads of time

Bob and Eliza watch their kids hurry off to get their homework out the way, Eliza feeling proud, Bob wondering if he should have added more onions to the breakfast quiche.

Settling onto the workout machine Bob thinks it’s a good time to do a short livestream, he still can’t believe he has fans, but he’ll have to get more for promotion.

Bob: Hey viewers. I’m having a dinner party tonight and I’m getting ready by exercising early! Remember to do your warmup stretches and add the weight you lift gradually. So my kid is 14 and I’m wondering… is it safe to let them in my kitchen? Let’s do a poll!

Inside in their room Onyx is oblivious to their responsibility being debated online, focusing instead on finishing their homework correctly. It would probably be easier if Eliza hadn’t picked now to vacuum but with visitors coming she will not be accepting dust bunnies today!

After completing his own homework assignment Fergus sets about doing the laundry. He checks all the pockets and gets it in the machine. Just as he sets it to go Onyx comes out for their cheer practice.

Onyx: Did you just do the washing

Fergus: It’s only right, we have guests coming and mother can’t do all the chores

Onyx: Suppose

Fergus: Plus if I do it you’ll have time to walk Ginger

Onyx: That’s nice of you, thanks-

Their words are interrupted by Fergus having chosen the porch as the best place to practice dramatics! Onyx shrugs and carries on their own practice, may as well practice not being distracted by random noises.

Livestream finished Bob heads inside to start prep for the dinner party. It’s here he realises he has a fridge full of batter but no dough, oops.

Bob: Hey, Jumble?

Eliza: Library! Doing chess!

Bob: Oh. Turns out I have to wait some time for the dough to mix together. I was wondering if I could persuade you to join me in bed for our own mixing

Eliza: *smiles* ask me nicely

Of course they do end up in bed and spend far longer mixing together than is required for the dough.

Previous (Romero) ... Next

#sims 4 #the sims #the sims 4 #simblr #my sims #ChangingPlumbobStorytime #R0904 #ElizaPancakes #BobPancakes #OnyxPancake #FergusPancakes

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hopeshoodie · 2 years

Note

Can you do a Pros and Cons for Levi?

Part 8 of Pros and Cons of dating the different islanders (use the tag to see the others lol)

Levi

Cons

He takes things very personally. It’s not that he reads too much into things like tone or intention, but that if someone is being dismissive or irritated with him his feelings are very hurt. If you’re angry and make a comment that crosses a line or tease him too much, he gets very sulky very quickly.

He doesn’t know how to take constructive criticism, and has a tendency to either a) blow it off completely if it’s from someone he doesn’t respect or b) if it’s from someone he cares about he does that guilt-trippy thing of saying “OH I guess I’m just the worst person ever then!” He is not at all receptive to you pointing out that’s what he’s doing in the moment either.

I don’t think he’s at all in tuned with his partners needs or willing to take on the mental load of managing a household/finances. He’s the type to purposefully do a task you asked him to do wrong so that you won’t ask him to do it again. Or if you complain that he’s not sharing the housework he’ll be like “tell me what to do and I’ll do it” but won’t realize that half the task is keeping track of what needs to be done and getting all the things together in order to complete it. It’s not that he’s maliciously thinking housework is a woman’s job or intentionally putting it all on his partner, more just that he doesn’t think about it to begin with. If he’s in a really bad mood he’ll be like “why is it my problem?”

He’s moody. SO moody. If something upsets him in the morning, the rest of the day he’ll be sulky or irritable. Normally he ‘copes’ with it by just giving the people around him the silent treatment as he plays on his phone all day or doing a lot of loud sighing/scoffing/eyerolling. Levi is not amenable to be roused out of his moods, either, and prefers to just stew in it. The only real way to divert him is to leave him alone for long enough where he gets bored of it himself or to bring him along to an activity that totally distracts him from performing his irritation.

He likes gorgeous women, and I think that’s part of why he likes MC. He’s not going to be chill if she stops wearing makeup or cuts her hair or puts on a lot of weight. He won’t taunt her about it or break up with her, but he will start losing interest and looking other places.

He’s not one to break up with someone unless he’s got a relationship he’s more interested in lined up, and he’s not going to communicate without a lot of prompting to try and improve the relationship. So if he does start losing interest, he’s not going to say anything. Think Christian from Midsommar- he’ll hold you but still be staring into space wishing he didn’t feel like he had to.

Pros

Even though he’s really good at what he does (competitive swimming at an olympic level) I get a down-home vibe with him. I think he really enjoys the simple things like sitting around a firepit with family, having a beer on the deck, and taking a walk with his partner. He takes a lot of pleasure in the good things, so you’ll have a super chill weekend at home and he’ll be like “our weekend was amazing”.

You know that quote ‘I love the way men love’ where it talks about how men will quietly dedicate themselves to gestures of affection but not openly express it? That’s Levi. You’ll start to wonder if everything’s okay because he’s gotten quiet recently, but then notice that he upgraded his spotify account so that you can listen without being interrupted or that he’s trying to get used to a certain kind of food you love that he previously hated.

Levi’s a really charming guy, especially to older people and children. He has this ability to just warm up a room when he’s in it. If he’s comfortable in his relationship and feeling good, everyone else feels it too. His laugh is really contagious, he validates the people around him, he’s willing to jump in and tell entertaining stories, and he’s the type that people gravitate towards. He’s just cool. He seems like the perfect guy in small doses, so I totally see him charming your family and friends (and honestly making them envious of you).

He has really high expectations for himself, which contributes to the moodiness, but also pushes him to be really ambitious and constantly improving. If something doesn’t work, he’s going to keep trying to fix it or find products so that it’ll run smoothly. The ‘pro’ of that is he’s going to move hell and high water supporting you to get what you want. He’s going to grind to give you financial security, he’s going to practice with you and look for jobs if you want career advancement, he’s going to go to the gym with you if you’re on a muscle building kick. He genuinely is the biggest cheerleader, both for himself and you.

As much as I think he does have toxic masculinity to break down, I think he also takes pride in being a #SupportiveBoyfriend. Like he secretly relishes if you send him out for tampons/pads, or if he has to hold your bag while you shop. The performative feminist things that make him Feel like he’s doing something. When you eventually have kids, he’s going to be the proudest Girl Dad and relish doing her hair and taking her on outings (but not the labor intensive things of being a parent like entertaining them all day or dealing with tantrums/behaviors). But like the things that are ‘socially acceptable’ or will get him praise he’s really good at and takes genuine pride in doing. If you post photos of him doing any of these things it’ll go viral because people love hot guys being performatively good.

#pros and cons #final queue #litg levi

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opkinktobercyoa · 2 years

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> STICK TO WHAT YOU KNOW

Into the Haunted Forest! A One Piece Kinktober CYOA!

Chapter One: Zoro

Content warnings: N/A (SFW chapter) | WC: 800

> START READING HERE > PREVIOUS CHAPTER

You’re not exactly eager to go trekking to the woods on the word of some panicked kid. Besides, you’ve been here before, and it’s basically common knowledge that time passes differently in the spirit realm. As long as you keep to the path, you’ll have to find a crossing point eventually.

The shift in the terrain is so gradual that you hardly even notice it at first. The undergrowth knits itself a little closer, the trees more sparse. It’s hard to be sure how long you’ve been walking by the time you realize that there’s something artificial to the flora lining the path; their lines are ever so slightly too rigid to be natural, like they’ve been carefully trimmed by some unseen gardener.

For a moment, you consider turning back, but there weren’t any forks in the road. The waterfall has to lie at the end of… whoever this strange garden belongs to. So you forge ahead as the bushes grow into tightly compacted hedges, walling you in.

Eventually, you reach a fork in the road and realize: I’m in someone’s hedge maze.

You take a deep breath, steeling your nerves. You have plenty of time before daylight; this is just the landscape of the spirit realm rearranging itself to throw you off, but you’re too cunning to lose your cool to something so simple.

While you linger there, trying to choose the left or right fork, you suddenly make out the sound of something crashing through the underbrush. It’s still far in the distance, and not quite as big as deer-kid, but clearly big enough that you aren’t particularly worried about something so trivial as left or right anymore.

You break into a run, feet thudding against dusty earth that gives way to cobblestone as you bolt between the hedges. While you somehow, miraculously, manage to avoid meeting any dead ends, the path is full of sharp turns and switchbacks.

The thing that’s following you, on the other hand, is charging straight through the hedges, cutting a straight path toward you.

You keep running, the burn in your lungs building steadily as the minutes pass, but it’s no good. Your heart sinks with the sound of twigs snapping and branches snapping directly behind you as something, or someone, barrels into you and shoves you to the ground.

Its breath is hot on the back of your neck as it pants. You can feel its palms–human hands, you think, even if they’re big ones–sweaty against your bare skin, and you can’t help but whimper a little in fear.

But then, to your surprise, the weight pulls away from you. There’s a heavy thud as the thing collapses back onto the bare earth, still fighting to catch its breath.

For a moment, you wait, not quite convinced that it isn’t going to attack you again, but when nothing happens, you pull yourself up to face it. At first, it appears human: the face of a human man, high cheekbones and soft features an alluring contrast to his broad, densely muscled chest. But as your gaze trails down, past the emerald green happy trail on his stomach, you find a pair of boar’s haunches.

Another were-beast? you wonder, but no, the kid seemed like an even melding of human and animal features while this thing is split straight down the middle. He catches your eye when you look back up and smirks a little when you notice the pair of horns sprouting from the crown of his head.

“A minotaur?” you ask, more curious than shocked at this point. It seems the night is going to have plenty more surprises in store for you; may as well get used to them.

“Cool, huh?” he brags, the rise and fall of his chest settling a little.

“Yeah,” you nod, not really hearing yourself. You’re more focused on trying to recall all the mythology you’ve ever read. “You guard this place? I didn’t mean to trespass, I swear. I’m just trying to find my way home.”

“You and me both,” he grunts, rising to his cloven feet and dusting off his furred legs. “My shift ended days ago.”

Okay, maybe some things can surprise you.

“Your shift?” you ask, and he furrows his brow a little in your direction like you’re being unbelievably stupid. “Days?! I don’t have days!”

He rolls out his shoulders, rubbing at one of his biceps. “Shut up for a second. I'm tense. Need to clear my head.”

Rude, you think to yourself, but if he really is this place's guard, he must know it better than you do. Getting him into a more relaxed state of mind is in both of your best interest.

> OFFER HIM A MASSAGE. (SFW)

> OFFER HIM A "MASSAGE." (NSFW)

> HOME

> MAP

#text #c. zoro #sfw

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freefallthoughtless · 1 month

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I’m lonely in houses and furniture

In all the doorsteps I’ve walked through, holding my breath

Measuring distances and every word said

Hoping it would be where I could finally settle

But couldn’t I, or wouldn’t I, rest in all the corners?

Chasing places, slamming doors and opening windows wide

Feeling sharp edges being soothed and

cauterizing every other wound

Convinced I can deny how years of pain have metastasized in me

Frantically deny how many pieces of me have died

This decay rotting in my fast growingly useless heart

And then I’ll bite myself back, launching another self-held attack

Draw blood on my lower lip and hold my crashing shore in a cage

Shaking apart in my ribs,

Screams tearing in my throat in a nauseating wave kept at bay

Pressing fingerprints blue into my body, holding me together

Feeling how I’ve fallen into the worst weather

And I’ll tell you it’s pouring rain into a wast sea

And you’ll answer that you can’t live without me.

And I nearly let loose that scream like an animal trapped

And whimper like an animal on its last death breath

Slam my fists into my thigh and trip on all my best laid barb wire

Pulling myself back down and cracking like spidered glass through my core

You can’t live without me?

I can’t live inside me.

It’s not fair and I might give up but you’ll be the one losing

And I can’t walk in the other direction when I’ve got someone waiting

But my heart has wandered aimlessly and I’m not really here

Ghosting through my misery knowing I’ve shifted my weight to right here

The world looks different when you’re no longer tethered

Every look is a removed wonder, like I didn’t walk carelessly here yesterday

Like it’s my first steps heading toward my last

Getting a final view of what I never knew I had

Never had to notice it until the light was leaving me

I’m tired of this view, tired of falling through silence

What I knew at 10 makes too much sense at 28

And I don’t look for double locked anymore cause I can’t hold on

Can’t face another lecture of just another face in the crowd

It’s like a part of me has decided to curl up and stare down my time

Read the pages and hear the voices and wonder why

Why being 10 and seeing red in the face of feeling blue

Wasn’t everyone’s first clue

I’ll sit in silence and know it didn’t have to be

But even taking a careful step left me stumbling to catch up to what you see

I don’t know why I don’t just scream

Open my mouth and bleed ugly all over what you’re offering me

Every shaking attempt comes out wrong and what I say isn’t what needs to be told

I cling to clinging to normalcy like it isn’t choking me

And then I do wonder what it is you really see

And why I don’t let anyone ask me

You give me love and I give you shattered pieces back

Trying to gather enough of me to not come up blank

It’s just a bad day, some melodrama passing through

Let’s accept that to be the obvious, like it’s true

I’m depressing and pressuring everyone else

Putting my lifelines into a drowning net

It’s so gentle and I’m ungrateful and I promise I didn’t mean to be

I didn’t want this and I think it would be best if you didn’t want me

It’s crushing me

I’m not seeing me

I’m not here and it isn’t real and I’m not

Drowning

I promise

I can’t do this again

I know this crumbling and I know this fear

I know I’ll be dragged down where nothing is clear

I can’t rot at the bottom one more time.

Can’t clash and claw my way back up as I’m losing precious ground

This is where I break and I can’t stomach the fight

I’m tired

Endlessly bone deep into my deepest atoms tired

Not just from now but from where I’m headed

From every second I stole unintended

You could drown me in love and I still wouldn’t be set free.

This isn’t me

But we should let it be

Knives?

Not sharp enough

Pills?

You’re a bad friend

Begging?

Don’t hold your breath

Leave?

Please don’t let me

But I could leave.

Google is easy

Location services off

Airplane mode and shoes on

Pray that it will be enough

Get lost and not found

Then what?

Let it freeze over?

Die cold?

Cry until there’s no more soul?

Come back crawling if it’s scary being alone?

Or let chance carry me to wherever it thinks I should go?

I can’t feel me

I don’t know

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jokertrap-ran · 2 years

Photo

[Hell’s Festival] 4★ Seras (Normal) Translation

第3話秘めた悲しみ Chapter 3: Hidden Sadness

"We both watched the performance on stage weaved by puppets alike…”

CV: 小山力也 (Koyama Rikiya)

*Yume100 Masterlist | Hell’s Festival Event Story *Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut *Name will remain as my normal ( ラン ) *Thank you to Pimmy_yone for providing the moon route choices so that I could make his translation complete~ ♪(´▽｀)

Chapter 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 Sun 1 / 2 / SS Moon 1 / 2 / SS

Stringed puppets dance upon the candle-lit stage…

It was about a boy who’d lost someone important to him.

Boy Doll: It doesn’t matter how important someone is; you’ll still end up losing them someday.

(It’s a sad story…)

Feeling a little of the boy’s helplessness from his words, I look to the side…

Seras: ……

(Seras…?)

The lonely look I spotted on him as he quietly observed the stage left a lingering twinge in my chest.

Seras: Hm? What’s wrong?

Noticing my gaze, he slightly tilts his head in my direction.

Ran: Oh, it’s nothing much… I just thought that it was a pretty sad story.

Seras: It is.

Seras: This is a Country which often deals with death, so there are many stories akin to this.

(Right, this place’s…)

Necropolia was said to be the place where victims of a long-fought war of the past were mourned that eventually became a small Country.

Hearing his explanation, my gaze returned to the story unfolding on stage.

(Dealing with death…) (This puppet show might be someone else’s life experience once upon a time…)

Seras gently placed his large hand atop my head when I looked down at my faintly tightening chest.

Seras: But, stories like these aren’t just to invoke sadness.

Seras: It’s also intended to soothe the people’s sorrows by making it into a story, widely told to others.

Seras: That’s just how it is, so… don’t go makin’ that face, alright?

I could feel his concern as he slowly and gently stroked my hair. It made warmth bloom in my heart.

━━━━━━━∘◦ ✰ ◦∘━━━━━━━

❖ Choice MOON: Nod back (頷き返す)

(The weight on my chest feels much lighter now…)

I nodded back at him, and his smile finally reached his eyes.

Seras: Still… You’re a really nice girl.

❖ Choice SUN: Thank him (お礼を言う)

Ran: Thank you, Seras.

Seras: Not at all. It’s nothin’ to thank me for.

The puppet show continues, and an owl pays the sad little boy a visit.

The boy befriends the owl and his sorrow is gradually soothed away…

Finally, the story ends with him regaining his former smile, warm and happy.

(It’s a sad but wonderful story…)

I clapped along with him as the puppets on stage gave a cute parting bow.

Seras: What a well-made play.

Ran: It is. I’m glad he managed to regain his smile.

Seras: Yours too.

(Seras…)

Seeing his relaxed smile, the image of the dark look he had on his face earlier flashed through my mind…

❖ Choice MOON: Hesitate (聞くことをためらう)

(I want to know more, but it’s a little hard for me to ask him directly about it…)

I closed my mouth, swallowing the question that had been right on the tip of my tongue. Then, Seras tilted his head in my direction.

Seras: What? Were you just about to ask me somethin’?

Ran: …I’m sorry if this comes off as weird. I was just a little worried about the face you were making while watching the puppet show…

Seras: !

❖ Choice SUN: Ask him what’s wrong (どうしたのか聞く)

Ran: Um… Are you okay?

Seras: Huh? Me? Why do you ask?

Ran: You looked rather sad during the performance…

Seras: ……

Seras' eyes widened a fraction at my unexpected words.

━━━━━━━∘◦ ✰ ◦∘━━━━━━━

After a brief moment of hesitation, Seras tapped his cheek in thought, albeit slightly troubled.

Seras: Was I making a face like that…?

Ran: It might just be me, but…

Seras: …No, I’m sure it’s just you overthinkin’ things.

Seras: That won’t do. It looks like I’m losin’ my composure in front of you, Princessa.

The smile he pulled to dissuade me was betrayed by the way his brows drooped.

(Seras?)

He let out a small sigh that gently brushed at my fringe.

Seras: You’re really sharp.

Seras: Thanks to that, my poor attempt at hiding it was all for nought, for you have such beautiful and keen eyes…

Seras turned his gaze up towards the air, seemingly trying to rid himself of the slight hesitation he felt.

Seras: That puppet show just reminded me of the past…

I waited in silence as he prepared to spill his heart…

To be continued…

#夢100 #otome #translations #yume oukoku to nemureru 100-nin no oujisama #夢王国と眠れる100人の王子様 #seras #Koyama Rikiya #小山力也

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chubbology · 3 years

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Getting Big

prompt: someone discovering they're a feeder as their feedee partner gets bigger

Sometimes you’re both in bed, distracted and ignoring each other on your phones or laptops, when you notice. Your eyes lift from your phone and notice your partner’s relaxed belly, rising and lowering with calm breath, stretching the fabric of their shirt. Really stretching it now, not just with every inhale, but by default. Not just pushing the seams a little with chubbier hips, but forcing the cotton to bow out close to its limit, forcing the stitching to cave into a belly button deeper and softer-looking than you remember. And your eyes inevitably take in the rest: thicker thighs, more shapely chest, less defined arms, softer jawline.

You’re aware that your partner’s gained a little weight. More than a little, but it’s fine. Probably thirty or so pounds, not a big deal, and you absolutely don’t judge them for it. Have they mentioned it at all? No, they just keep tugging at their shirts and pants. And underwear. Their underwear is getting too small for them, with weight gain making them a bit of a pear and all, but you don’t say anything. You don’t say they need bigger underwear. You don’t tell them how much you appreciate the fact that they need it. As long as they stay mum on the subject of their weight and the fit of their clothes, so will you; that’s your rule.

Sometimes you’re both in bed, watching TV, and they’re eating their way to the bottom of a quart of appallingly flavored ice cream (super-caramel-quadruple chocolate-chunk type stuff), and you keep sneaking glances. Because you’re amazed they’re comfortable enough around you to eat freely like this—or so you tell yourself. Their eyes are so glazed with distracted pleasure that maybe it didn’t even occur to them not to gorge themselves tonight, right in front of you.

Not gorging themselves like some kind of pig—no, it’s just, you both ordered a lot of takeout just a couple hours ago, and then they snacked on chips for a while, and then there was that candy bar they ate on a whim while you took out the trash, and now it’s a whole quart of ice cream. A whole quart. The more glances you sneak at them, the more you notice how their budding second chin peeks out when they chew. The more you notice that their bites seem hasty, as if tinged by some kind of distant, unconscious desperation.

You lean against them as if too tired to stay upright, reaching over them casually, letting one arm rest against their belly. It’s soft. It’s bigger. Not a big deal at all, you tell yourself for the millionth time.

And yet, you ponder their weight more. You’ve been pondering it incessantly. You can’t stop thinking about how they went to the mall two weeks ago without telling you, bought clothes a size up, and already were uncomfortably tugging and pulling on on every tight band and seam again. You can’t stop your thoughts from wandering to the idea of them sizing up again any more than your partner can stop their hands from opening another package of cookies.

“Ugh, this stuff is so good,” they mutter, swallowing the last bite, then closing the lid on the carton and setting it aside.

“Mm. I’ll buy more then,” you say without thinking. It’s fine if they size up again, after all. You’ll love them no matter their body type. Their happiness comes first. “I’m going to the grocery store anyway.”

A couple months later, going to the grocery store is not a chore to you, but a fun outing. You never used to even go down the junk food isles if you were by yourself, but now you scour them carefully. You place things in the cart you know your partner will like, and consider new brands and products they might like to try. It’s all so colorful and thrilling to actually buy. You tell yourself you might even try some of it and ignore the intrusive thought of your partner sneaking out of bed in the middle of the night again to binge on half the goodies themselves.

What niggles at you isn’t that you’re buying way too much junk food for your partner, who’s a little overweight now. It’s not as if they’ve told you to stop, or have implied they want to lose weight, or have said anything about any of it at all. That’s the thing: you’re in uncharted waters, and they haven’t told you a word about whether they fine with the way the tide was turning or whether they were actually really concerned that they were getting heavy and a little jiggly and they didn’t know what to do about it, let alone have the wherewithal to say, Honey, stop buying junk food. I’m getting fat.

Just the thought of the word makes you blush at the box of Fudge Covered Twinkies you’re holding. You quickly set them back on the shelf. Twinkies were practically the poster food for getting fat, right? Surely, your partner would suspect something, even though there wasn’t anything to suspect. You just know that they like food, particularly food that’s soft and sugary and addictive, and what better, cheaper food to comfort them with than Twinkies? No, it wouldn’t be good for their waistline, but you can already see their eyes fluttering closed at the taste—which was probably not even good, but that was hardly the point, was it?

Compromising, you buy a limited edition blue-stuffed brand of Twinkies instead, preparing an excuse that you thought the novelty of it was amusing and wondered if it was good.

But later that night, your partner eats six of them while you play video games and doesn’t mention the novelty of it at all. Your character dies stupidly and your partner laughs at you, belly jiggling as they do. You swallow, eyes fixating on their fat thighs. There’s no other word for them—they’re fat. Their thighs have gotten fat, just like their belly got fat, just like their hips and chest and arms and even their neck and face has been rounding out with so much chub. They were fat and they did eat like a pig, and all signs pointed to more weight gain. They were going to keep gaining weight, and when was it going to stop? When you finally decided enough was enough? When their doctor told them to take control? Yeah, so, you could imagine them awkwardly saying, coming home from the doctor, I guess I gotta lose weight. Maybe they would be holding a pamphlet on obesity or something, looking ashamed.

And maybe they would try at first. You would help. They’d exercise a little here and there, maybe only eat one Twinkie instead of six, maybe not ask for takeout so often. But it wouldn’t last. The second their will broke, yours would too. And you’d both be in bed, distracted by nothing but endless waves of pleasure that your sex life hadn’t known in a while, them leaning back against the headboard, eating every fattening thing you had to offer, which would be many, many, as many fattening things as they’d agree to swallow down like they glutton they were becoming.

“Babe?”

You blink.

“You okay?” they say with that chubby face of theirs, a face that said, I’ve been gaining so much weight, and you’re really aroused.

“I’m glad you like those,” you stutter. You look at the Twinkies box, and so do they. Your mouth keeps moving without forethought. “I’ll buy you more next time. Any other flavors you like?” You set down your controller and push your hand into their hair affectionately. Since they’re slouched, they look up at you, and you lower your hand to the back of their neck, touching the bulge of the fat there. “Want me to get you your favorite ice cream? I know you had a long day at work.” You stand and head for the kitchen, ignoring your partner’s confused ums and wells.

You open the freezer and get one of many ice cream quarts. Thanks to you, the fridge and freezer have been stuffed to the gills with crap, but you can’t regret it, not when it makes your partner look perpetually stuffed to the gills too. You get a spoon and sit down next to them again, brain fuzzy with want. “You’ll feel better when you finish this. By the time you do, I’ll finally finish this damn level.”

“I’m—I’m not…” But the look in their eyes is conflicted. “I’m not that hungry, really.”

You laugh. Your body is buzzing. “Please. With you, when you eat and when you’re hungry are completely unrelated. Let’s make it a competition! Finish before I do. Go!”

“What?”

You’re already starting the level over, thinking to yourself What the hell? Don’t make them eat if they don’t want to. Even if they do want to, even when they’re full, because they’re greedy and addicted, gonna get obese soon—

A minute passes, and they’re sitting up, belly folded in rolls on their lap, looking poised to either stand up and put the ice cream away or rip the lid off and devour it all.

“Eat it,” you say innocently, or try to. It mostly comes out like a pathetic attempt at sounding not-horny.

You glance over, and they still look conflicted, so you lean over and kiss them on their tubby cheek. “Go ahead,” you say, quieter. You meet their eyes. “Don’t you want to?”

They look taken aback now, flushed. All at once, they seem aware of their blubbery, overweight body, and they shift on the couch. You forget the game and lean in again, kissing them on the lips, then deeper as they lean into you. “I know you want to,” you whisper. You cup their fattened hip, squeeze it gently. “I bet you really want to.”

They’re blushing really hard now, gone shy and speechless. So you move closer to them, and since their head is lowered to avoid your eyes, you land a sweet peck on their bulging second chin. Then you peel off the lid of the carton, tear the plastic off, and push the spoon satisfyingly into the over-processed sugar that has been fattening your partner out of their clothes so well.

Despite their air of reluctance, they eat the spoonful you offer as if on instinct. They squirm with pleasure, and your breath hitches when their plump hand twitches out to take the spoon away from you when you don’t use it quick enough. You scoop them another bite. Then another. The room is quiet except for the game in the background and your rapidly beating heart. Their eyelids lower, and you murmur encouraging words to them. That’s it. It’s good, huh? Big bite... The experience seems no less momentous to them than to you, and so you keep going. Their eyes drift shut and so you guide their mouth to open at the right times. Eventually, your cooing gets bolder.

“I know how much you like this. Like eating. Eating a little too much.”

Their mouth pauses around the spoon, but their eyes don’t open. They swallow and wait for the next bite.

“And I know you get up in the middle of the night sometimes, just to eat,” you say. “Eat and eat until your clothes feel tight and your stomach’s queasy, right? You always come back to bed so uncomfortable, tossing and turning, panting a little. Holding back little burps. I wake up and all the junk food I bought is gone.”

Your partner leans into to your next spoonful, then takes it from you. Without meeting your eyes, they start eating from the tub themselves, at twice your pace. You smooth your fingers through their hair. Then rub a hand down their arm, which was now sausage-like with so much fat clinging to it. But it’s squishy, when you pinch it. No firmness anywhere you can see.

“I’m sure you know you’re getting big, baby. You’re getting big. But that’s okay.” You rub your hands over their belly, their hips, their rolls of back fat. “You just keep eating as much as you like.”

And after another pause, they nod.

#weight gain #fic #askbox prompts #genderless #reader feeder #nonbinary gainer

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rocorambles · 3 years

Text

Patient 1: Addiction

Pairing: Toji x Reader

Genre/Warnings: Yandere, NSFW, Predator and Prey themes, Cum play, Knife play, Non-Con, Degradation

Link to: Prologue

Patient Name: Fushiguro Toji

Diagnosis: Adrenaline Addiction

Your brow furrows as you stare down at your first patient’s files. An addiction isn’t uncommon, but to adrenaline? You suppose it’s possible to become addicted to just about anything. Yet there are a million questions buzzing on the tip of your tongue as you turn to Uraume who just shrugs and says you’re better off hearing it straight from Toji’s own mouth.

Everything about this psychiatric facility is strange and you curiously stare at the elevator buttons as both of you descend, noting how each button has a name of a patient next to it with the final button having no label.

“Each patient has their own floor. They’ve been here for so long that we thought it would be more humane to give them ample room to live in instead of the standard patient rooms you typically see in other facilities. After all, we’re not here to treat them like caged animals, right?”

The humanitarian in you can’t defy that logic, but you can’t help but wonder if it’s safe for them to not be bound during your session, only to cringe at your own thoughts. They’re just ill patients, humans just like you, not prisoners. With that newfound determination you stride out of the elevator only to freeze when you hear the outer elevator cage slam close on your heels.

You turn, hoping to see Uraume right behind you, but your heart sinks when you see them safely on the other side of the metal fence, an eerie grin on their face as the actual elevator doors slide shut, leaving you with some parting words.

“I’ll see you when you’re done seeing all your patients today.”

Not even seconds pass before you’re scrambling to look for a button or anything to help pry open the elevator doors, fear overwhelming you as Uraume’s ominous farewell haunts you. But there’s no escape and you turn around to take in your surroundings, trembling and on the verge of tears.

Expansive is an understatement and you nervously walk around the dimly lit area, quickly losing track of all the rooms, corridors, and dead ends you bypass and amble through despite doing your best to keep track of everything. It almost feels like it’s meant to be a maze or obstacle course of sorts…

“Well, well, well. Look at the new little mouse I’ve found.”

Your heart threatens to burst out of your chest only to still in shock when you see a familiar face grinning at you, immediately connecting it to the manilla folder tightly clenched in your hands.

“Fushiguro Toji?”

“And you must be the new shrink. Follow me, doc. I’m sure you have a lot of questions. They always do.”

You don’t want to think about what’s happened to your predecessors, this “they” Toji’s referring to. You don’t want to follow this stranger. You don’t want to be trapped in this unknown environment with a highly dangerous patient and no means of escape. But what choice do you have? And with limbs weighted with despair, you trail after the dark haired man.

You’re surprised when Toji leads you into a room not far off from the police interrogation rooms you’ve seen in movies. A single table with a chair on either side are the only furniture in the room and you quietly take a seat across from where Toji has casually slumped himself down. But you note how his large stature easily overwhelms the small space, making the substantial table between you seem meaningless.

There’s silence as you fidget and fumble with Toji’s file, trying to find any professionalism and composure you have left as said patient continues leering at you, an amused smirk ever present on his face. It feels silly to treat this like any other examination, but it seems like the only thing you can do, what Toji himself is expecting of you.

“What is...what is adrenaline addiction, in your own words?”

You wonder if this is what opening Pandora’s box felt like, the question barely out of your mouth before regret instantly seizes you as Toji’s grin only grows wider and sharper, a crazed look in his eyes when he replies.

“It means I like being excited a little too much, doc.”

“And what excites you?”

You don’t want to know his response, but it’s the only way forward and dread fills you as he responds.

“Oh, lots of things. The burn of my throat and rush to my head after taking a shot. Gambling and the uncertainty of whether you’ll win or lose. The look of despair on my victim’s face when I shove a knife through their beating heart. The way it feels so fucking perfect to shove my dick in any tight hole it’ll fit in. But you know what makes me the most excited, doc?”

It’s theatrical how he tapers off, green eyes piercing you as he silently orders you to acknowledge him. And all you can do is shake your head side to side, tears threatening to fall from your eyes as you play right into his hands.

“What makes me the most excited is the thrill of hunting pretty prey like you.”

Instincts have you jumping out of your chair and bolting from the room. You don’t dare turn to see if Toji is chasing you down, his amused cackle at your expense trailing behind you. You’re blindly running, no sense of direction as you randomly turn left and right, your only prerogative to keep moving, hopefully farther and farther from your patient. Every corridor, every passage, every room looks the same and you struggle to breathe as quietly as you can despite the way your lungs ache.

You strain to listen, but it’s hard to focus on anything other than the drumming of your racing heart and you don’t hear the figure casually ambling towards you until you’re being roughly shoved face first into the wall you’re leaning on, a toned figure pressed against your back, caging you in.

“Now, now. You’re making this way too easy. Tired already?”

It’s a rhetorical question, one you can’t bring yourself to answer anyway, not with the way your teeth chatter and your body trembles in fear as Toji loudly inhales your scent while he buries his nose in the crook of your neck, tongue lazily licking a strike of your salty sweat.

You sob as he harshly bites down, not enough to break skin, but enough to leave you aching and hold you still as his hands wander underneath your clothes, groping and kneading your breasts and ass. You’re too scared to move, fearing the consequences of resisting, praying that maybe this is it, that you’ll be let off when he gets his fill of feeling you up. But you can’t help the way you yelp and instinctively struggle against his hold when he tires of your frozen state and decides to ruthlessly twist your nipples and shove a thick finger into your tight hole.

“There we go. Glad to know you’re still alive and kicking. I don’t enjoy fucking dead and broken toys like that pink haired bastard does.”

Pink haired bastard? Your mind briefly flashes to a hazy picture you’re sure you had seen in one of the patient files. What was his name-

You shriek as Toji shoves another finger alongside the digit already in you, sobbing as you feel him stretching your walls, relentlessly pounding his fingers in and out of you, his fingers painfully pulling at your nipples. All you hear is his grunts in your ears and you clench your eyes in disgust when you feel a long hard object grinding against you, knowing full well what it is without even looking.

He’s going to rape and kill you. This is how it all ends. And you wait for it, the searing pain of that massive shaft impaling you. But it never comes and before you know it you’re moaning as he twists and flexes until he finds that soft spongy spot inside of you, insistently rubbing and stroking it with curled fingers as he continues dry humping you from behind.

You’re so lost in the sensations that you don’t notice how your body is betraying you as it unconsciously grinds back against Toji’s hand, your ass shaking and pressing even harder against Toji’s cock. It’s funny how easily you’ve lost any common sense, but you’re not here to be a vapid bimbo toy. He’ll save that side of you for one his fellow inhabitants who’ll appreciate it more and he abruptly pulls his now soaked digits out of you, snorting at how you whine from the loss.

You look so confused, so stupid as he rapidly finishes himself off, hooking down your bottoms low enough for him to shoot his sticky seed all over the inner fabric of your panties. And he grins when you practically moan as he pulls your undergarments back into place, cruelly tugging a tad too hard and wedging his cum and the stained lace deep between your abused folds.

You’re panting, looking like a wreck as you try to ground yourself from the dizzying confusion of being pulled right from the brink of an orgasm, the emptiness of your edging making your head foggy. But then something sharp is being pressed against your vulnerable neck and it’s enough to have fear jolt you back to your senses.

“Don’t be such a boring slut. Time to run and hide again. It’s playtime, bitch. Or maybe you need me to cut you up a bit. Pain’s always a good motivator.”

He’s barely finished speaking before you’re shoving him and his knife away from you and he whistles in appreciation as he watches you race away again, taking his time to tuck himself back in his pants. You’ll need as much of a head start anyway to even try and remotely make some sense of this labyrinth he knows every corner of. Not that any advantage will actually help you much. Toji’s never had a prey he couldn’t catch.

How many times has he found you and released you after defiling you just a bit more every time? Neither of you can keep track and only when Toji has shoved his cock in all three of your holes, filling every orifice with his cum and fuckig you until you can barely walk does your session end. It’s almost comical how he has to quite literally drag you back to the elevator you had come from and he cruelly laughs at the white sticky trail you’re leaving behind you with your loose holes unable to keep in the copious fluids.

You barely register what’s happening, too exhausted, too fucked out of your mind to even be bothered by the rough friction of the ground against your body, only mildly stunned by the fact that the elevator you had frantically tried to re-enter is now innocently open. And it’s with muted despair that you realize what fate has in store for you as Toji presses the button of the next lower level.

Gojo Satoru

The neatly labeled name is all you register before the elevator doors slide open and you’re shoved out of it, blearily making out the sight of Toji tauntingly waving at you from inside the metal enclosure.

“See you at tomorrow’s session, doc.”

Your world goes dark as the elevator doors shut.

#toji x reader #yandere toji #yandere jujutsu kaisen #toji smut #tw: yandere #tw: noncon

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bunkerbucky · 3 years

Text

Casual Sabotage *Bucky Barnes x Reader*

Reader is hit with sex pollen. Except she doesn't crave her boyfriend, Steve Rogers. No, it's his best friend, Bucky Barnes, that she wants inside of her. Bucky, in the beginning, is a good bro and refuses. But due to the fact she sucks his dick so good he kinda, sorta, loses that restraint and just fucks her regardless of who she belongs to.

Rating: Explicit [+18]

Warnings: Sex pollen= Dub-Con, Rough Sex, Rough blow-job, rough oral-sex, vaginal sex, praise kink, breeding kink, size kink- Bucky has a big dick in this lmao, choking and biting kink, infidelity; Reader cheats on Steve.

TW: Dub-con- Reader is under sex pollen, so she actually cannot give consent and also because Bucky is so resistant in the beginning. It turns consensual on Bucky's part, he gives in to the temptation. But, obviously, reader is still influenced so... the lines are blurred.

Yourself and Bucky had searched the Hydra base from tippy-top to bottom. There was nothing out of the ordinary, which infuriated you a little. With the amount of recon work you both had to do, the long nights of watching the agents coming and going, you felt like you both deserved a small win, at least.

A long sigh escaped from your lips as Bucky's fingers typed furiously on the computers keyboard, a USB stick in hand just in case he found something exciting. Your arms were crossed over your chest, eyes scanning around the bases' security room, roaming the shelves and cabinets that held nothing of importance. A week of nothing, you wanted to cry.

"Hmm," Bucky low hum attracted your attention, "It says there's a basement to this building, we haven't checked that out." His steel eyes look over the screen and at you, you respond with a shrug of your shoulders. "We've got two hours before the cavalry arrives to pick us up, let's explore and see if we can obtain something to keep from Rogers from complainin'"

You giggle slightly at Bucky's comment, nodding in agreement with him. Steve would have a lot to say if you went back empty-handed, especially since he sent you both rather than himself. But you couldn't lie and say the thought of seeing Steve after so long didn't excite you. You had missed your boyfriend dearly, you weren't allowed on missions together since finally making things official. Work ethics and all that jazz.

Instead, you and Bucky had started to partner up, Steve didn't trust anyone but himself, and Bucky, to keep an eye out for you. Who better to watch over his best girl than his best friend, plus Bucky was your friend before you got with Steve.

"What if we go down there and there's a great, big monster waiting for us?" Sliding into the small elevator beside Barnes.

Bucky looked down at you with a raised eyebrow, "Then I'll be throwing you out as a distraction, so I can press the elevator door button to leave."

You both ended up laughing at his response, although when the doors finally did open and reveal a darkened basement layer... there was a moment of silence, you both side-eyeing one another at the lack of sound and movement.

Bucky stepped off first and the automatic lighting triggered him to pull his gun from its holster, his reflexes sharp and fast. You step off and follow Bucky down the hall towards double doors, the room through those doors was abandoned and huge. Desks with old computers, all smashed and out of use. Stacks of files and paper scattered on desks and the floor. Despite the mess, it all looks really promising, there had to be something amongst the chaos.

You both separate to cover more ground, you only had a limited time before you had to leave. You looked through paper and files, shuffling through stacks of meaningless bullshit. Hydra certainly kept a record of everything, including all the worthless crap. You wondered if they actually printed this stuff to lead you guys on wild goose chases like this, to make sure you were distracted with searching for something important amongst all their bullshit.

You ended up in the far back of the room, a small desk area had random empty vials littered across it. Files labelled in Russian, that you couldn't translate very well.

"Hey, Buck," You called over your shoulder as you lifted an empty vial, a cork tightly shoved in the top; curious. "Think I might've found something."

The vial itself was black, not black liquid, the vial was just black. It didn't feel weighted, it didn't feel like anything was moving inside of it. So, curiosity got the best of you because you yanked the cork off the vial. Black smoke puffed out and into your face causing you to inhale and go into a coughing fit. Waving your arms in front of your face, coughing at the inhalation of whatever was inside that vial.

It smelt like... old leather, peppermint toothpaste and...something else, like a deep musk. Odd.

"Hey, are you okay?" Bucky suddenly appeared at your side, a hand placed on your back and eyeing you with concern. He then grabbed the vial from your hand, it was clear and no longer black. "What happened?"

Your coughing had subsided, you felt fine. "I think there was some kind of smoke or whatever in there, I don't know. The black stuff just burst out, I was stupid-"

"Damn, right." Bucky looked mad, which was a given. "Hydra is known for making gas poisons, Y/N. That was a rookie move, never open strange vials." He didn't sound too mad at you, a little more concerned and worried.

You nodded, frowning when feeling the back of your neck sweating. You felt... hot. A sweat was taking over your body, your mouth was getting dry and your mind was going fuzzy. Bucky hadn't noticed, his eyes cast down to the Russian files on the desk, his hand flipping through the old pages and taking the information in with wide eyes. You briefly wondered if whatever is written in that file had anything to do with that vial.

"Fuck," Bucky muttered.

"What?" Your throat was scratchy, your breathing was becoming laboured and your palms were sweaty.

You didn't feel hot, though. You didn't feel sick either.

"Well, I'm guessing whatever was in that vial was... to put it plainly, sex pollen. It makes the patient unable to think of anything but sex, all they want and all they feel is lust. It's basically either used to breed or on prisoners- the pain of not getting off thoroughly enough can lead to the patient taking extreme measures: death." He shakes his head, you don't notice the horrified look In his eyes at the thought of maybe it being used on him when under Hydra's control. "You're likely fine, though."

"I wouldn't be so sure," You managed to gasp out, your thighs squeezing together and eyes closed, you wanted to feel embarrassed but you couldn't. "My head is spinning and, fuck, I need to get this off. I feel too hot, I'm burnin' up." Clawing at the collar of your own tact suit, your hands were shaking and you couldn't bring yourself to look at Bucky.

You wanted to look at him though. You knew he was standing close to you because you could smell him, he smelt like the black smoke did. He smelt delicious, intoxicating in the best way. God, you wanted him so badly. You needed him.

"It's going to be okay, Y/N. I promise, we'll get you back to Steve and he can-"

You shook your head and finally pulled the zipper down of your jacket, shrugging the bulletproof material off your shoulders.

"Need you." You managed to mumble out, lifting your gaze to Bucky, who was frowning and shaking his head. "Please, Buck. I need you! I can feel my skin crawling and-I'm in so much pain, please." Your voice a mix between a whine and beg.

"I can't- you're not thinking properly. Steve will be here soon and he can help you, he's your boyfriend, remember?"

You pulled the black, tight sleeved henley from your body and let it drop to the floor, it covered in sweat. You're standing in a sports bra and tact pants, chest heaving as you try to intake gulps of oxygen from your panting. Even with half your clothes off you still felt sweat bead and drip down your skin.

"I can't wait that long," You sniffled but no tears forming. "Please, I want you-I've always wanted you. You read the file, I'm going to die!"

Bucky continued to shake his head. "I won't do that Steve. It says that it took a couple of hours till that point, Steve'll be here soon and I'll explain to him what happened."

You groaned painfully, shaking your own head now. Not understanding why he couldn't just help you now. You were in immense pain and the throbbing heat in your core wasn't letting up.

You didn't want Steve to help you. You didn't need Steve to help you, it wasn't just because he wasn't here. You wanted Bucky. The smell of him, the heat radiating off his body when it was close to yours. You craved for him to touch you, to fuck you. You were sure the moment he touched you that the pain would ease, the flames that were consuming you would simmer down.

And you were certain that he wanted you too.

Taking the initiative you moved closer to Bucky, the short hairs on the back of your neck were drenched in sweat, you could feel it drip down your back. You placed a hand softly on his metal arm, the cool vibranium instantly cooling you down. Bucky let out a shaky breath and looked at you, eyebrows furrowing together as he took in your features. You were sure you could see the fight in his eyes, he wanted to help you. To touch you.

It was frustrating that he wasn't giving in. That he wasn't falling to his desires.

"I won't tell Steve, I promise." You whispered and pressed a kiss to his collar, inhaling his scent and shuddering when it filled your senses. He wasn't pushing you away, but he also wasn't giving in to touching you back. "It can be our little secret. I know you'll make me feel really good, he won't be able to help me like you can."

Her other hand trailed down his chest and stopped at his belt, Bucky was too busy telling her everything he had already been saying. Telling you how you love Steve and Steve loves you. It would break Steve's heart if he found out about this talk from you if he knew what you were saying to Buck. You didn't care, not right now anyway. You had always found Bucky attractive and before getting with Steve you had entertained the thought of Bucky, but he was just getting back his life. A relationship seemed too much for him, well that's what you thought.

You didn't settle for Steve, that was never the case. You love Steve, you know that. But, right now, here with Bucky, you knew that he'd be able to help you with this- more than Steve could. Steve was a peaceful lover, an attentive one. You needed this illness fucked out of you- at least, that's what your hazy brain was telling you.

Your hand slipped under his belt, a wide grin taking over your face at Bucky's shock, words choking out as you wrapped a hand around his dick. A sense of pride coming over you as he began to get hard in your hand, a few quick jerks as started to undo his pants with your free hand. Bucky was stunned into silence and compliance, unable to stop you just from the fact he hadn't been touched like this in a while.

He came to his senses when you noticed you get to your knees, his pants undone and pulled down his muscular thighs. Bucky slapped your hands away and tries to pull his pants back up, but you were putting up quite the fight. You roughly pushed him back, he ended up falling to the ground due to his pants restricting his movements. In the moments he fell down and was trying to figure out what happened, you had pulled down his boxers and gulped dryly at his semi-hard length.

"You're so big," You mumbled before wrapping your lips around the tip, a loud groan echoed through the room from Bucky.

You could feel him growing inside of your mouth as you tried to take more of him down, slobbering up his dick and licking around the shaft. Pulling off to run your tongue around the veins and down to his balls, gently suckling them into your mouth as you jerked his length till it was fully standing erect. You smirked to yourself at all of the noises Bucky was making, a hand being placed on your hair- which normally you hated Steve's hand in your hair, but you'd allow Bucky this time.

"Fuck my throat," spit was around your mouth and down your chin, "fuck my throat with your big cock."

Bucky's eyes were wide and lust-filled, there was still a hesitancy from him. A dilemma going on in that head of his, so you wrapped your lips around his cock again and started to slowly take him down. He was bigger than Steve, so much bigger, but that only spurred you on. You wanted him to roughly fuck your throat, you wanted to feel him at the back of your throat even after this.

You felt both his hands on your head... he started to push your head further down, the tip hit the back of your throat and you still hadn't taken all of him. He started to ease past your limitations, your eyes filled with tears as he stuffed your mouth impossibly full. Your lips stretched wide around his girth, he could feel your throat constrict around him and the slight gag you couldn't help because of how far he was down your throat.

"Fuck, so good." Bucky groaned lowly, eyes completely black and bottom lip trapped between his teeth. You knew your panties were soaking, a slickness collecting on your thighs as you rubbed them together, the flimsy material of your underwear was sticking to you and making you rub yourself just to alleviate the friction. "I'll deal with your pussy in second, right now I'm going to fill this hole up."

It was like Bucky snapped, the trepidation he was feeling before was long gone. It was now replaced with this new Bucky, and you loved him.

He wasn't merciful when he started to thrust in and out of your mouth, his balls were slapping against your chin harshly. The grip in your hair was harsh as he pushed and pulled your head to meet his hard thrusts, your eyes rolled into the back of your skull as he basically skull fucked you. Loud gagging sounds, your throat squeezing his cock as you fought for air, he only eased up when you looked like you were going to pass out. It was seconded worth of air before he repeated his onslaught, spit and cum was dribbling down your chin and onto your chest and sportsbra. Bucky kept his eyes on you, it made you shiver how he was looking at you.

Bucky didn't warn you when he was about to cum, instead, he held your head down, almost shoving his entire cock down your throat as loads of his cum spurted out and shot straight down your throat into your tummy. You hardly tasted his cum because of how far he was down your throat. He groaned as he came, swallowing thrusting his hips into your mouth as he milked his orgasm. He pulled you off his cock, it was still hard, thankfully.

He helped pull you to your feet then undressed you, roughly pulling the sports bra off your chest and yanking your pants down your legs. He ripped your panties to shreds and let the tattered pieces fall to the floor, his hungry gaze took in your shaking, naked form. Your thighs were glistening from your arousal and it was still leaking from your pussy, hardly any attention to it made you needy and wishing to be stuffed full.

"Turn around." The authority in his voice made you shiver.

You turned around and felt Bucky place a hand on your shoulder, bending you over the desk where you found the vial. The pieces of paper clinging to your sweaty skin and making you keen into his touch more. He kicked your feet further apart, a hand tickling the insides of your thighs and collecting your sweet juices. Expecting to feel fingers prodding around your entrance, instead, you felt a firm tongue lick from clit to fluttering hole, it dipping inside and collecting the juices wanting to leak out of you.

Your mouth fell open into a silent scream, his tongue was exploring so far into your pussy, his hands gripped your cheeks apart so he could push further inside of you. Tongue fucking you so roughly and expertly, your eyes almost went crossed out from the feeling. You didn't know you could be tongue fucked this good, but Bucky just lived to prove you wrong. The slurping sounds and moans from the man behind you, he lifted and bent your knee to rest on the table; opening you up further for his trained tongue.

"You're gonna have to let me have a taste of this everyday from now on, baby." Bucky groaned against your pussy, mouth closing around your clit as he sucked harshly, your mouths drowning out his own. "Taste so good," the tip of his tongue running figure eights on your engorged clit.

Bucky must've stayed between your legs for minutes, but it felt like hours. He pulled two back-to-back orgasms from you, only using his tongue. When he was done eating your pussy, he stood up and draped himself over your back, an arm wrapping around your neck as he breathed heavily into your ear. You could feel his cock nudge up against your pussy, sliding and coating himself in your juices.

"You ready for me?" You whined your response, trying to push yourself back against him but his arm tightened around your throat- not restricting your airflow. "Think your little pussy can take my dick, dolly?" You nodded in a rush, needing it inside of you otherwise you was going to die. "I've got you," The tip nudges against your entrance and began to push inside, the stretch was painful but welcoming. "Daddy's got you."

Your pussy fluttered around his length, the more he pushed his thick length in the more you moaned. He wasn't even half-way in when you started to babble about how he was too big for you, how he wouldn't fit inside of you. That only made Bucky want to prove you wrong, want to prove that you were made to take him. He started to thrust shallowly, rocking his length in and out of you, impaling you on him more whenever he pushed forward.

Once he was fully sheathed inside of you, he stopped and remained inside of your tight, heat for a moment. Relishing in the way you were split open around his cock, your walls were spasming around him and he was having a hard time not cumming on the spot. You felt so tight, so warm and wet around him, suddenly envious that Steve got to have you all the time. But he was planning on ruining you, to make sure the next time you fucked Steve it wouldn't feel as good.

He was going to fuck you so hard, so deep that you'd be wishing Steve was this big.

"Hang on, baby." That was the only warning you got.

Bucky started to pummel inside of you, his thrusts were hard and fast, his cock was kissing your cervix. You really could only just lay there and take it, your mouth open as moans were ripped from you, eyes rolling back as he kept impaling his girth inside of you. He was hitting spots so deep you knew you'd be feeling him for days afterwards, you'd be walking with limp and sore, it was worth it.

The way he was fucking you, it was as if he had something to prove.

The sound of skin slapping skin, his grunts and groans right beside your ear. His arm around your neck, clenching and cutting your airflow off at times, had you cumming within seconds and he still didn't let up. He didn't stop and fucked you through your third orgasm.

Your mind was starting to come down from the pollen, the pain and fever you were feeling had gone. Replaced now with pleasure and pain, a mix you didn't think you were into but now couldn't get enough of. All you could think and feel was Bucky Barnes. This was no longer the effects of the pollen anymore, this was pure you and riding on the afterglow of Bucky fucking you like you needed.

"Harder." You mumbled through heavy pants, tilting your head to look at him over your shoulder.

A smirk crossed his features, metal arm holding your hip in a bruising grip. Complying with your order and snapping his hips hard into your heat, grinding his hips against yours before pulling back out and repeating. It causes your back to arch, pressing your pussy back against his thrusts with little mewls leaving your lips.

"Kiss me." You plead breathlessly.

Bucky doesn't falter with that demand either. Draping himself over your body again and pressing his plump lips against yours, the kiss is far more gentle than his thrusts, but it still has you moaning against him. He was kissing you like you was fragile, yet fucking you like you were some kind of sex toy that he was using just to jerk off into. It was making your head spin and your pussy needy for more.

"You gonna come again?" Bucky chuckled against your ear, you nodded sharply and cried in pleasure when he bit your shoulder, cumming on the spot when his teeth dug into your flesh. "Mm'good girl." He mumbled as he licked at the tender spot, you could feel his hips stuttering their pace.

"Cum in me." You grinned and he cursed lowly, eyes squeezing shut. "Want you to fill me up, daddy. Fuckin' fuck a baby into me, fill me up."

The arm around your neck was pulled away, hand splaying across your back as he started to thrust into you in tight, fast and hard thrusts. Using your body to seek his own pleasure now, you were biting your lip at the thought of him filling you up. Not even caring if he actually did knock you up, you needed his cum inside of you.

Bucky found his end after a few careful thrusts, warm ropes of his seed filling you up and then some, he filled you up so much that it started to seep out around his cock. He groaned at the mess he made inside of you, he carefully pulled out of your abused cunt to see your hole clenching, trying to keep his creamy load inside of yourself. He had to look away because if he kept staring he'd get hard again, he didn't think you could take another round or load.

You remained bent over the desk and trying to catch your breath, his human hand was rubbing comforting circles on your back. Before you or Bucky could say something a buzzing sound captured both of your attention, it was coming from Bucky's pant pocket. He left you to retrieve his phone, eyes scanning over the device for a moment before he looked at you.

"Steve is waiting at the extraction point for us," You nodded mutely and you both got dressed in mutual silence.

He helped you to look presentable, ignoring the fingerprint bruise on your hip and the obvious bite mark on your shoulder. You were unsure how to explain any of that to Steve, you were also unsure how to explain what happened to Bucky. Obviously, you had still had those feelings for him, right? Otherwise, you would have been able to wait for Steve, it was like all sense of self-control had left you and only Bucky remained in your mind.

As you both left the base in awkward silence, treking the five miles towards the extraction zone, you wondered if you would have craved for Bucky if you was with Steve. If after all this time it was Bucky and not Steve you wanted.

All you knew was that Bucky had ruined you. You could still feel the impression of him inside of you, the way he had so deliciously stretched you open and impaled you on him. The way he had roughly fucked your throat like it was nothing but a hole to get off into. He had fucked you, in more ways than one.

(Please, let me know what you think! I’m also taking requests too! Honestly, kinda wanna write a part 2 where Reader tries to have sex with Steve but fakes her orgasm just to go to Bucky... I’m a bad person, I just think Bucky would be better than Steve tbh lol~ Lilith)

#bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky barnes x y/n #Bucky Barnes x female reader #steve rogers x reader

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starshipsofstarlord · 3 years

Note

Could I request a Bucky Barnes x reader smut? Basically she and Bucky have been together for some time and maybe it’d be a little angst where the two are talking about the future and Bucky not thinking he can ever have a normal future? Which would result in soft smut and later reader being revealed as pregnant so Bucky finally gets his family

I’m Home

Pairing | Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary | based on the request ^^

Warnings | angst, smut, oral sex (m receiving), fluff, pregnancy, mentions of death

Quick link to my masterlist, if you’re interested in reading more of my crap 😬

The Wilson’s boat rocked sturdily upon the water, swaying as the boats worked aboard. Your hand held the weight of a silver spanner, twirling it in your fist as though it were a knife, thinking of the long road ahead of you. Sam had the shield now, that was a good start, but still, there was a ways to go until the world recognised him as the captain that he was meant to be.

There was so much destruction ongoing in the world, what with the flag smashers, and whomever the power broker was, and surely, you knew on the shallow surface, that there would be masses more problems to arise. It was exhausting, to know that there was no end to the war on earth, and that you were surely going to be fighting the threats until you could no more.

Bucky felt the same; he had just gone from one war to another, losing everyone that he cared about along the way. Steve had given everything up to finally find peace, and yet, the two did not share the same opportunity. An escape was never laid at your feet, instead, the pair of you were trapped in the cycle of cruelty, being blended around in a shredder by reality.

“Hey.” A voice confiscated you from the lonesome containment of your thoughts; it was Sam’s hosting sister, Sarah. I’m her own way, though you doubted that she would never admit such a thing, she was a hero. She had become a widow, and not to mention she remained a stable mother to keep her boys afloat, as well as nurturing half the kids that lived within close proximity.

“Hi Sarah.” You put the tool down, giving her your ample attention as you stood, tugging your fingers into the loops of your jeans as you stepped out of the boat, and onto the dock. “Anything I can help with?” It hadn’t passed your attention that Sam and Bucky had disappeared, but not into ash like last time. Instead, they had walked off in the direction of the house, most likely meddling about with a ball, in the back yard with Jim and Jody.

“I just came to let you know I’ve made the sofa up for you and Bucky. Are you sure you’ll be all good, I could always kick Sam outta his bed and make him sleep on the living room floor?” The two of you had nightmares, if you were to be separated from him for even a night, it was certain that the pair of you would greatly suffer. That was something you didn’t want to burden any of the Wilson’s with, screaming in the middle of the night because flashes from your past struck an unconscious nerve.

“All good, and thank you Sarah. You didn’t have to let us stay here, we both appreciate it, a hell of a lot.” One thing that you had learnt throughout your years was to show gratitude. The smallest amount shared had the ability to spring up moods, and had even set you on a much more heroic path than the one that you had been originally been placed upon.

“You’ve earned your stay.” Sam’s sister shrugged with modesty, acknowledging the help that you and Bucky had not only given to Sam, but to her family’s legacy. The two of you had aided with fixing the old wreckage that had now returned to the form of a boat, keeping it afloat rather than permitting it to sink from the quarrels that Sam had with himself regarding fixing the damned yet meaningful port of transport.

“This life you have, it’s great. I get it’s not easy, but it’s beautiful. You have two wonderful kids, that you’ve done such a great job raising, and not to mention, these community that you have is so loving and kind, even to us outsiders.” The pair of you had paused outside of her front door, speaking. “Sam is lucky to have you, he truly is.”

“Well, maybe one day this life could be something similar to what you’ll have.” The sister of your friend smiled, though your mirroring expression retracted. In a stumble of thought, you shook your head, not believing that possibility. This all was... perfect. That was something that you had never had, nor would you think that you’d ever be permitted such a peaceful lifestyle.

“I don’t think that would work out.” You sincerely mumbled, feeling the sad swelling in your chest at the prospect of all the luxuries that life had denied both you and Bucky of. It wasn’t fair all the same, but the two of you were used to being denied human rights, let alone the simplicity of nothing more than a life together. “As nice as it sounds, me and Buck aren’t really cut out for all this I suppose.”

“The world does not choose who can and cannot have a family, there’s always a way. Just because you haven’t had the most ideal line of story does not at all mean that you can’t make it work, from as much as i know, you two deserve a life together, that doesn’t include being shot at, or shooting at other people. Sometimes, you’ve just gotta go for it, and hope for the best.” She gave you a final nod, before heading inside, and you trailed after her into her her residency.

The two of you went your separate ways, and there, you saw Bucky, sat up on the sofa, his hands clasped together as his eyes stared towards the tan bag, that concealed not the shape, but the Stars and Stripes of the infamous shield. It was much a relief that it was no longer in Walker’s toxic clutch, however its presence, among other things, were taking a clear toll on your boyfriend.

“You ever feel like we’re stuck?” The air was tense around you both as he spoke solemnly, it diverting to match the mood of his question. “Like we’re us, and I love us, but it makes me think that it’s it. Just me and you, on this path for the rest of our lives, never getting a compensated break, nor an average person’s future. I want this, what these people here have, not the combat that is aided by this metal arm, or the associations that stick to us like life lines.”

“All the time, it’s on my mind James.” With a sigh, you came to sit beside him on the couch, resting your head against his bionic shoulder. “I ever wonder if there’s a timeline of you and me where there’s none of this ruckus, we just have a nice little house in a quiet and accepting place, and maybe a kid or two in the future.”

“I’d give anything up for that.” He looked at you, almost wide eyed, as his hand slithered down onto your knee cap, rubbing small circles as he wore a blunt and endearing smile upon his infatuating lips. “I mean that Buck, that sounds...”

“Perfect?” He asked, leaning closer as he grabs your chin with his wondrous fingers, his nose brushing alongside your own as his puckered lips fell upon yours, earning a small hun of content from within you. “Because you’re perfect to me, and no matter what life we are encased in, I want to share it with you. I want stare at the night sky and watch the moonlight illuminate the side of your face, and the stars reflect in your entrapping eyes, that I want to look into like a medium’s orbs forever, because that is how I will see the future that I ever so hope for.”

“How long have you been working on that one Barnes, because you are usually not that smooth?” A small laugh erupted from your mouth, but you were quickly silenced as you felt a cold metal hand slither up and beneath the back of your tank top, rubbing along the seam of your spine, as his lips ran down the column of your throat, evoking small and delicate whimpers out of you.

“Shut up doll, because I really want to fuck you now, and those words leaving your mouth are making it kinda hard to concentrate.” A furrow imbedded between his brows, as you tilted your head at him, a smirk proclaiming your expression as you pulled the material over your head, and reached behind yourself to unclip the back of your bra.

“Kinda hard to concentrate, hun?” You asked nonchalantly as his gaze zeroed in on your bare breasts, his hands smoothing along your ribcage as he adjusted his grip of you so that he was palming at your breasts, and squeezing the nipples. “I want you in me baby, I’ve practically gone days without you inside of me.” Licking your lips, you reached down to palm your beloved through his layers, earning a positive groan from the former assassin.

“Hours, you mean. I fingered you on the road trip here.” Yes, that was true, however, it was only his fingers, not even the metal ones, and whilst you loved what they alone could do, he had to be discreet as you were sat on the back of the truck, which had carried the primary parts for the Wilson’s family boat. If you were to scream out, they’d have surely thought that you’d fallen off the back of the truck and pull over, or if they had much sense, they’d have noticed that there was more going on than two passengers sat side by side on the journey to their small neighbourhood by the docks,

“You heard me Barnes, otherwise I’m sure Sam wouldn’t have any problem if I came to his room in this state of undress that I am currently portraying.” Growling was never Bucky’s fortes, however the sound aggressively ripped through the tunnel of his throat, as he threw off his grey top, quickly unfastening his belt, as he awaited for you to strip the rest of your clothing before him.

But rather than doing so, as he stood before you, your hand had trouble resisting the sight of his cock that had bobbed to attention, and thus, you wrapped it around his toned flesh, giving it a couple jerks that had his head reeling back, before you tongued his tip, moaning to yourself at the taste of him invading your sensitive taste buds. “Love your cock.”

As soon as you said that, Bucky gently gathered your head in a ponytail so that it was free from bombarding your face, and groaned as quiet as he could as you sucked him in your mouth, running your tongue up the side of his shaft. “Is that a part of your dream world baby doll, the sight of my cock throbbing to be inching down that perfect little throat of yours?”

To answer him, you pressed your head down deeper, humming around him as your eyes ogled up at the sight of your super soldier, who was trying his hardest to keep his eyes open, and attuned to the sight of you. He held his bottom lip between his teeth, as you lightly gagged around him, pulling off him, and squeezing his balls, before running your hungry tongue along the middle of his sack.

“Always. It would be a dream if you made love to me right here and now though, I’m not sure I can wait any longer James.” Bucky took a long inhale, before ravishingly pulling down your jeans and panties in one go, and tossing you so that he was below your form, and you hovered over him, toying with his erect cock. “I love you so much Bucky, and I’m scared of what’s to come. I have a feeling that there’s gonna be a fight.”

“There’s always a fight doll face.” He rubbed his thumb soothingly across your jaw, pulling your hips down closer so that you were rubbing your slick folds against his standing cock. “But this is what we’re fighting for, the rest of our lives together. I’d be damned, one day after this, and if I were to die, I’d be a happy man. There’d be the memory of you to keep me forever happy in the afterlife, and not to mention, there’d be no more wars for me to participate in.”

“I’m not going to let you die Buck, even hypothetically. We saw how your little hypothetical synopsis went last time.” Tapping his cock against your clit, a breathy sound evicted from your lips, as you stared down at the two of you intimately touching, the sight alone making you more turned on and impatient. “No one is allowed to kill you, otherwise I’ll unleash hell on all their flag smashing asses.”

Giving him one last stroke, you guided his tip towards your entrance, removing your hand once you had him situated, so that you could rest it upon his sturdy shoulder, and sink down on him, the feeling of him stretching you being the most euphoric sensation that you had ever endured. Hushed moans ceased from the both of you, as Bucky’s hands gripped your ass cheeks, only adding to all of the pleasure that was erupting within you.

“Think your pussy is gonna kill me before anyone else does; your so tight.” His pitch had rose, as your fingertips danced along the left side of his handsome face, invisibly connecting the dots of his beauty marks. You allowed the pair of you to adjust for a simple moment, before you began to raise your hips, sliding up his super soldier rod, only to slide down it again.

The actions were repeated, as your own hands trailed down his warm skin, to drag down the golden lines of his vibranium arm, only to bring the weapon to your mouth, and kiss every black finger up, as you tried your best to muffle the moans that were hoping to reap free. “So fucking big, I love you and your cock.” You muttered, your sight turning blurry as Bucky realised that it was his turn to do the work, and thus, he thrusted up into you, making echoing sounds of your skin slapping together reverberate around the room.

“Love you more.” He gritted his teeth, pulling his metallic hand away from your numb lips, so that he could swirl the elegant digits around your clit, the action provoking whimpers to rapidly surpass your exterior, as you bit harshly onto your own lip, and screwed your eyes shut. “Cum for me doll, want you to cover my hard cock in everything you have. Come on baby, you can do it.”

Without much thought, as your mind was too scrambled to do so, you reached for Bucky’s spare hand, pulling it to your mouth as you sucked on his fingers as though you were blowing him. A low moan that was dialled down from the presence of his flesh digits, ran from your mouth, as you began to bounce your hips, chasing and eventually reaching your high. You came around him, pushing him too over the edge, his seed filling your walls, as you collapsed atop of him, huffing from exhaustion as you removed his salivated hand from the realms of your mouth, resting your head against his panting chest.

Stringed sighs fell from Bucky’s breath as he tried to catch his own breath. His hands rubbed your back, not only to comfort you, but also to subconsciously pull you closer against him, and his softening cock that was still inside you, and was keeping his cum plugged within your tender and pulsating walls. If life was easier, there’d be more time for this, and that, but for now, it was just every now and then. Maybe you’d win this fight and survive until the next one, but maybe, you’d lose and never battle again.

Life was precious, that was something that you had not only learned as an avenger, but also something that had been told to you by Isiah. That man thought that you deserved a normal life, no fighting, no super soldiers. He himself was the biggest yet silent critic of those with additional strength, but his opinion was never going to sway you, not as you stared out into Sarah’s backyard, and watched the man that you loved play with the boys.

They had the shield, and were whisking it through the air like a frisbee; dangerous, yes, but again, life could only amount to so much without an ounce of pain. A content and satisfied smile absorbed any pain on your face, you were enraptured with the sight of Bucky like this, he was like an uncle to these two kids. He was no captain America, that was for sure, but you didn’t want a man in Stars and Stripes, all you wanted was him to be at peace, and it was a fact unbeknownst to him, that you had made such an alternative to that.

“Still want all this?” Sarah emerged, a cheap yet formidable bottle of wine pursed in her hand, as she held two clear and tall glasses in her hand. You hummed, watching as she poured the thin red consistency into one glass, but as she went to fill the other, you held out your hand, shaking your head. The woman was confused, last time you had visited, and were entangled on her sofa with the limbs of your boyfriend and a shaggy old blanket, you had kindly accepted her offer.

“Sure do.” You sighed, staring out into the green abyss where Jim was hanging from Bucky’s arm like it were a branch. “How do you do this, this whole mother thing? I’ve never been able to wrap my head around how you make it look so easy, it’s just, you do such a good job.” Your palms rested flat on your thighs as you laughed at Sam ordering Jody to jump on Bucky’s back, as he fell down in faux defeat.

“It never is easy y/n.” She placed the open bottle down, along with the mismatched glasses, that were asymmetrical considering one was half filled and the other wallowed in emptiness. “But every step of difficulty is worth it. There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t miss their father, but they’re my priority. For Jim and Jody, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do, and you’d understand that if you ever opened yourself up to giving your life of heroism up to have all this.”

“I might have to.” Twiddling with your fingers, glancing up at your boyfriend, realising that he was in fact not looking over, you clasped your intwined hands over your stomach, smiling softly to yourself. “And maybe not having another option is the best option for me and Buck, because we don’t have to fight with ourselves over being included in our duties, we have new ones.”

“You’re pregnant, aren’t you?” Sarah asked, resting her nurturing hand upon the tile of your shoulder, prompting you to turn your face towards her. There was a conflict in your eyes, it was something that she recognised her younger self having once worn. It was the idea of putting everything aside, all for a child, everything that she had ever known, so that she could put her baby boy first. “Does Bucky know?”

“He will.” You shifted your head down, unsure of yourself. This had been what you had wanted, and whilst you still envied Sarah for the role she had, you were hurt. A part of you wanted to be an avenger until you were nothing but a soul drifting in the abyss of non existence, another didn’t want to let the knowledge of being a carrier for a new future crumble you. “I just need a moment to tell him.”

“I’ve got it.” She sent you a wink, picking up the items she had brought out, before she called on Sam and the kids to come inside. Sarah had gifted you the opportunity of revealing the truth to your partner with no one else around; you appreciated that. As he stalked closer, you met him halfway, sinking into his arms as he hugged you.

“Looked like you were having fun with the boys.” You verbally noted, loving the feeling of him running his fingers through your hair. “You��re amazing Bucky Barnes, to me and to everyone. I just, don’t want you to freak out on me, I have something big, really big, to tell you, and-“

“Baby, I know.” He smiled, pulling back so that he could look you in the face. “I have super human senses, I heard their little heart beat for the first time yesterday. We’re having a baby, and I couldn’t be happier about it. In fact, I want to ask you if you’ll accept my question of making Sam the godfather.” You nodded, tears standing in your eyes, as you brought the man down for a kiss.

“Yes. But I’m not sure that he’ll be praising us for making a baby when we technically created him or her on the couch inside.” Bucky shook his head at you, kissing your forehead before walking inside with you, preparing to tell the Wilson family, that had along the way became your own, the good news- well, not the sofa bit.

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bashhowardproductions · 5 years

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it’s hilarious to me when people call historical fashions that men hated oppressive

like in BuzzFeed’s Women Wear Hoop Skirts For A Day While Being Exaggeratedly Bad At Doing Everything In Them video, one woman comments that she’s being “oppressed by the patriarchy.” if you’ve read anything Victorian man ever said about hoop skirts, you know that’s pretty much the exact opposite of the truth

thing is, hoop skirts evolved as liberating garment for women. before them, to achieve roughly conical skirt fullness, they had to wear many layers of petticoats (some stiffened with horsehair braid or other kinds of cord). the cage crinoline made their outfits instantly lighter and easier to move in

it also enabled skirts to get waaaaay bigger. and, as you see in the late 1860s, 1870s, and mid-late 1880s, to take on even less natural shapes. we jokingly call bustles fake butts, but trust me- nobody saw them that way. it was just skirts doing weird, exciting Skirt Things that women had tons of fun with

men, obviously, loathed the whole affair

(1864)

(1850s. gods, if only crinolines were huge enough to keep men from getting too close)

(no date given, but also, this is 100% impossible)

(also undated, but the ruffles make me think 1850s)

it was also something that women of all social classes- maids and society ladies, enslaved women and free women of color -all wore at one point or another. interesting bit of unexpected equalization there

and when bustles came in, guess what? men hated those, too

(1880s)

(probably also 1880s? the ladies are being compared to beetles and snails. in case that was unclear)

(1870s, I think? the bustle itself looks early 1870s but the tight fit of the actual gown looks later)

hoops and bustles weren’t tools of the patriarchy. they were items 1 and 2 on the 19th century’s “Fashion Trends Women Love That Men Hate” lists, with bonus built-in personal space enforcement

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amistytown · 3 years

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The Brothers Comfort MC During a Panic Attack

This is my first attempt at writing down my headcanons for the brothers, so I apologize if anything is out of character. I meant it to be short and sweet, but it grew out of my control after a while. I’m a perfectionist and wanted to rewrite everything. I made minor edits and am posting it anyway or it’ll sit in my drafts forever; I admit I put the most effort into Lucifer’s, forgive me. Also sorry for the repetitiveness and any typos you may find. I decided to write how the brothers would comfort MC during a panic attack, especially as someone who suffers from anxiety and panic attacks themselves. Honestly, I wrote this as a way to comfort myself since I’ve been dealing with terrible anxiety lately. Of course, everyone experiences anxiety differently, so I can only speak from my own experiences. I didn’t go into detail when it comes to the symptoms themselves because it’s from the point of view of the brothers and only so many are visible to the eye. Trigger warning for depictions of anxiety and panic attacks. Thank you for reading!

LUCIFER

Lucifer is troubled. Following lunch, you disappeared, currently absent from class. This is unlike you, his worry intensifying every minute you’re out of his sight. Yet he maintains his composure, resigning himself to scouring the academy grounds. Time passes at a torturous pace, his thoughts beginning to take a turn for the worst. He contemplates whether to involve his brothers and Lord Diavolo himself at this rate, however the sound of his D.D.D diverts his attention. A wave of relief washes over him at the sight of your name lighting up his screen, chased by frustration at you, your silence, and himself for losing track of you so easily; he couldn’t bear living if anything happened to you under his watch. He expects this behavior from his brothers, not you. Though his heart sinks, the Avatar of Pride uncharacteristically overcome with guilt while he reads your message. Of course, you are not his brothers. He should not have doubted you.

Your texts are apprehensive, a weighty pause between them as you hesitate to lay bare the darkest depths of your soul. He approaches you cautiously, to avoid upsetting you further. Your words alone convey the sheer panic taking possession of you, the last of your strength used to press send. Outside he discovers you, huddled miserably in an isolated corner of the building, swathed in shadow. The desire to shelter you from the world burns within him, but your eyes widen fearfully in his presence, wounding his pride. Immediately, you apologize. Sorry you’re missing class, that you left without telling anyone, and upset him—especially when you’re aware of his busy schedule. You’re sorry for not having the courage to pull yourself together, succumbing to your anxiety, your shame palpable. The hand clutching your D.D.D is trembling, your chest heaving as you struggle to breathe. He aches for you, each tear shed hurting more than the last, your pain managing to touch the very core of his being and set him alight.

If anyone is sorry, it’s him, pride be damned. Kneeling in front of you, he assures you an apology isn’t necessary—your wellbeing of great importance to him. He wants you to rely on him, grateful you confided in him despite your doubts. Hopefully, he can eventually put your mind at ease. His voice low, soothing, he continues to console you, making sure you’re aware he’s not upset, and your feelings are valid. Although he’s not familiar with the inner workings of anxiety itself, he’s willing to listen, learning how to support you to the best of his ability—starting today, providing you’re comfortable accepting his offer. Initially, he prioritized your safety for the sake of the exchange program and Lord Diavolo’s wish to unite the three realms, now it’s merely out of adoration for you, his beloved. Once you’re ready, he’ll let you know you’re not alone. He’s never too busy on your behalf.

Offering you his hand, a smile graces his features as you accept. Slowly, he helps you to your feet, steadying you against him. He notes the way you relax at his touch, shoulders sagging and head coming to rest on his chest. Only you exist in this moment, his gaze not leaving you, not even for a second. Standing in silence until your breathing settles and you regain your balance, he sees you through the height of your attack before escorting you back to the House of Lamentation. He’ll personally excuse you from the remainder of your classes, understanding you need a quiet place to recover. Classical music plays softly in the background of his room, and he’s content to have you in his embrace, drawing you onto his lap after you finish the tea he brewed to calm your nerves. Lucifer pays you special attention, massaging your tired body and kissing you tenderly, his breath fanning across your lips as he reminds you how special you truly are—brave, compassionate, and incredibly loved.

MAMMON

Mammon mourns his loss, wondering how he let them gain the upper hand; admittedly, a foolish mistake on his part. He dreads breaking the news to Lucifer, and the resentment that shows on his brothers’ faces once he confesses does little to ease his mind. Still, he worries about your reaction most of all, knowing his stupidity has put you in a precarious position. In that moment he believes their words—only a greedy scumbag like himself dares to place his human’s happiness on the line. Although certain of his win at the time, he should consider how his actions affect you more often; otherwise, how can he claim he’s the Great Mammon? His confidence is his downfall in the end. Now you’ll suffer along with him. Yet you feign optimism, attempting to soothe everything over despite your innocence. His guilt only grows, a heavy weight on his shoulders. One he deserves.

Three days of waiting on and performing for large crowds at The Fall proves hectic for everyone. He can tell you’re struggling beneath the façade of a composed and hospitable server, going above and beyond to ensure the patrons leave satisfied. Furthermore, you lend him and his brothers a hand, coming to their rescue; it should be him making it as easy on you as possible. His concern for you runs deep, no matter how hard he tries to maintain his usual air of indifference, but you have the nerve to reassure him—it’s meant to be the opposite, dammit. Each night he goes out of his way to check on you, frustrated that you continue to dance around the subject. He can see the exhaustion on your face, hear the slight tremor in your voice, the toll his stupid decision is taking on you, and it stung. You comfort him, even when he’s undeserving, so why won’t you allow him to hold you and kiss the pain away? Not that he’s asked. You should realize by now you can rely on him, right?

Watching you suffer in silence tortures him. He can’t deny it regardless of his best effort to make light of the situation. You barely eat or spend time outside your room, saying you’re tired, which isn’t a lie—working is exhausting, no doubt about it—but he understands you well enough to notice the subtle signs of your anxiety, your smile unable to trick him into believing otherwise. Perhaps you find him as insufferable as his brothers do, or worse, and don’t want to see his face after what he’s done. That doesn’t stop him from showing up at your door, hoping he can offer some form of comfort. However, you keep up appearances, supporting the seven of them during the longest weekend of their lives. You work hard too, his chest swelling with pride as he watches you care for his brothers and customers alike. How can you like an idiot like him? You’re selfless and loving, looking past his flaws to see what lay beneath his sin. His human. His angel. He wants—no needs—you to be okay.

The last day comes and goes in a blur. Finally, he can toss these ridiculous clothes and rabbit ears in the trash and never perform that dance again. Better yet, you’re free of his burden, though the guilt remains. He can’t relax until he’s positive you’re okay, knowing he’s genuinely sorry. Standing outside your room, he tries to muster up the courage to open his heart to you—apologies not his strong suit—when he hears you crying. They’re small, muffled sobs that manage to shake him to his core, blood running cold. Yeah, he should knock, but he can’t control himself, throwing the door open without hesitation and rushing to your side. The sight of your tears is almost too much to bear, and he draws you into his embrace, face heating up at his own moment of vulnerability, but this is about you, not him. He can be strong for you too, telling you everything’s going to be okay, that the Great Mammon is here to help.

After his stupidity, you tell him you were afraid to bother him? He can hardly suppress the shock at your confession, the sadness in your eyes breaking his heart. You wanted to make sure it went smoothly for his sake? You suffer through Hell alone because you chose to put his feelings first? Crazy. Though he thanks you, not completely ashamed to admit he’s touched. However, he tells you that you don’t have to put aside your feelings for his benefit; he prefers to be by your side then know you’re having a rough time on your own. He is your first. Taking the initiative, he asks what he can do to make it up to you, no matter how big or small the request is because he’ll do it in a heartbeat. You opt to stay in his arms, burying your face into his chest, and he wipes away your remaining tears, being as gentle as he possibly can. He can feel how tense your body is, your skin unnaturally warm, and it takes a while until you stop shaking. It’s moments like these he’ll tell you how much you mean to him—that he loves you, okay—and he wants you to come to him for everything. He’ll hold you, taking your hand in his, and kiss you with all the adoration in the world because you’re incredibly important to him. Mammon can attest to that.

LEVIATHAN

Leviathan invites you to his room to play video games, a daily routine the two of you have comfortably fallen into. He loves gaming with you, though on occasion you opt to watch instead, thoroughly enthralled by whatever is on the screen. Miraculously, you enjoy listening to him ramble—whether it’s about the game he’s playing, anime he’s watching, or TSL among other things—genuinely showing interest in his passions; he’s incapable of expressing how truly grateful he is for your company. His heart nearly bursts whenever you compliment him on his gaming prowess, encourage him during a particularly intense battle, or merely tell him how you enjoy hanging out. How in the Devildom did a gross otaku like him get so incredibly lucky? He can hardly believe you love him of all demons. The thought alone sounds crazy lmao.

Unable to contain his excitement, he awaits your arrival that night, ensuring everything is perfect when he hears a knock on the door. However, his smile fades the moment he lays eyes on you, mind beginning to race as he wonders why you look miserable, your gaze trained on your hands. Before he can speak, you apologize, dissolving into tears while you return the game he let you borrow. You’re stuttering, completely winded, and he can barely hear you confess to accidentally corrupting his data in your panic. In fact, he loses track of the number of times you choke out a sorry. He treasures his games, his collection extensive, but he cherishes you most of all. The loss is a minor annoyance, nothing that lessens the feelings he harbors for you. Although difficult, he overcomes his insecurities to show you it’s okay—you’re loved.

Not only are you sad, but you’re also terrified, a part of him wanting to destroy the game itself if it means you never have to experience the pain that torments you now. Regarding you carefully, afraid to make matters worse, he reassures you that he’s not upset—far from it, honestly—and that he cares about you more than any game. No stranger to your panic attacks, he reaches out to take your hand in his, hoping you find comfort in what he has to offer. And when you finally glance up, hope shining in your tear-filled eyes, he can’t help but wrap you in his arms. A warmth spreads across his face, heart pounding in his ears, but he knows you need him, allowing his body to relax around yours.

Holding you against him, he tells you everything’s all right, stuttering out how he loves you and, most importantly, wants to you to feel better. Your arms circle around his waist, causing his heart to jump into his throat, but he only pulls you closer. You’re his Henry, and what friend is he if you can’t rely on him? Leviathan is understanding, wanting you to come to him for support at your most vulnerable. Now he puts his knowledge to the test, easing you into his room with continuous words of affirmation. You always know how to console him at his lowest, and he hopes he can return the favor. If anyone deserves to feel loved it’s you, who brought joy into his otherwise bleak world, and he’ll sit with you every day and night if you need him to.

SATAN

Satan knows he shouldn’t be awake, though he finds it difficult to satiate his curiosity as he peruses the books lining his shelves. He barely registers the sound of his D.D.D, reluctant to put the book aside to see who’s messaging him at this ungodly hour; Asmodeus most likely. His tune changes after he sees your name lighting up his screen, his annoyance replaced with worry. He knows you struggle, especially at night, but he can tell you’re hesitant to reach out. Nevertheless, you gradually begin to confide in him, his patience limitless if you’re concerned, and he feels a sense of relief that you choose to trust him at your most vulnerable instead of suffering on your own. Pouring over every book he can locate on anxiety, he studies it religiously, engraining each page into his memory. Not by giving unsolicited advice—he doesn’t want to make that mistake twice—but by comforting you the best he can, even if it simply means to stay by your side, waiting for the panic to pass.

A second later, he appears at your door, gaze softening as your eyes meet. In the darkness of your room, he can tell how exhausted you are. You apologize for bothering him, particularly this late, but he dismisses you with a shake of his head and a reassuring smile, sitting beside you on the bed. It saddens him that you feel the need to, but he’s familiar enough with anxiety by now that he understands how much of a manipulative monster it truly is; if only he can destroy it with his own two hands, strangling the life out of it so it no longer taints that innocent soul of yours. To watch you struggle fills him with a rage that he forces deep within himself, fully aware anger isn’t the answer no matter how great his desire to protect you is. So, he cups your face in his hands, your skin warm beneath his fingers as he strokes your flushed cheeks and presses your foreheads together.

Focus on him, he tells you, the steady rhythm of his breathing, and his voice while he whispers words of love and encouragement. He never tires of letting you know how beautiful and strong you are, that he’s always here for you and loves you—all of you. You unravel in his arms, opening your heart up to him, and he listens intently, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips the moment you look uncertain. You’re not a burden he promises, hoping one day you’ll believe it yourself, but he’ll remind you every chance he gets; forever if he must. It’s worth it in the end, when you relax against him and smile, kissing him in return. Slowly, the anxiety leaves your body, Satan thankful that the waves of panic have receded enough to let you rest your weary mind. He remains next to you, pulling you down to lay your head on his chest and closing your hand in his, entwining your fingers. He’s content here with you, watching you fall asleep and chasing away the nightmares.

ASMODEUS

Asmodeus loves shopping, but he loves shopping with you most of all. The day is bright with you by his side, and he can’t help but buy you clothes and matching accessories to bring out your inherent charm. Your potential is endless, and he gushes over how gorgeous you are, unable to contain his excitement when your cheeks turn a beautiful shade of pink in return. He can hardly control himself around you, gaze fixated on your every movement and heart racing each time you flash him one of the sweetest smiles he’s ever seen; your very soul seeming to shine through and blind him. Nothing prepares him for the love he feels for you, but he considers it a welcome surprise, his desire to grow closer to you intensifying day after day. You captivate him, the Avatar of Lust of all demons. What an exciting turn of events!

Of course, he attracts attention wherever he goes, posing for pictures with adoring fans and basking in the compliments constantly thrown his way; nothing new, but he enjoys it, nonetheless. Who can resist the allure of his very presence? However, anger wells within him at the sight of you being shoved to the side, falling to the ground and lost to the crowd that has gathered. Their words of flattery fall on deaf ears as he rushes to you, throwing a heated glance at the lowly demon who dares to touch his darling human. He desires nothing more than to punish them for such an injustice, but the fear in your eyes tells him otherwise. By the time he scoops you up into his arms you’re trembling from head to toe, and he can feel your heart pounding against him. A part of him places the blame on himself, an unfamiliar feeling, but he chooses to ignore it for now, focusing on getting you home in your worsening state.

In the peace and quiet of his room, he sits you on the bed, wrapping you in his arms as he affectionately runs his fingers through your hair. He can tell you’re upset—in an absolute state of panic by the looks of it—and all he can do is hold you through it, quietly asking what you need and willing to answer your every beck and call if it means that adorable smile graces your features once more. For a moment he considers seeking out Lucifer, worried something has gone terribly wrong, but thankfully you find your voice, mumbling into his chest about anxiety and panic attacks, that you’ll be fine—eventually—and are sorry for ruining your date. He doesn’t understand completely, though he knows you need him, promising to stay by your side for as long as you want. Kissing your cheek, he assures you there’s no need to apologize to him, your safety more important than anything else; the demon who laid his hands on you won’t go without punishment either.

Admitting a bath helps calm you down, he prepares one for you, steam rising from the surface and the heady scent of roses filling the air. Together you slip into the water, enveloped by its warmth, and he hums in contentment as you lean into him, his arms coming to rest around your waist. He watches you carefully, making sure you’re able to relax and preparing himself in case you call on him; he’ll do anything for you if it brings you the happiness you deserve. Your eyes flutter close, Asmodeus showering you with delicate kisses, comforted by the fact your breathing has levelled out and you appear a lot calmer than before. The day didn’t go as planned, and he hopes to make it up to you, vowing that no one else will hurt you on his watch. He loves himself. He loves his brothers. But loves you most of all.

BEELZEBUB

Beelzebub notices you haven’t touched your dinner and is beyond happy the moment you offer your plate to him. Yet he can’t bring himself to enjoy the food in front of him while you excuse yourself from the table, eyes downcast and voice quiet, the usual smile gone from your face and leaving behind an emptiness that rivals his own hunger. His mouth waters at the thought of seconds, but his concern for you grows, and he decides to follow you without question, disregarding the ravenous growl of his stomach. He catches you in the hallway, calling out your name. You turn to him, his brow furrowing in unease at the sight of your tears and the slight tremble of your lip. It hurts him to see you in obvious distress, and he earnestly offers his support.

The only sound is that of your sobbing. He desperately wishes to hold you tightly and rid you of your pain. However, he falters, studying you. Your gaze is trained on the floor, shoulders stiff with tension, and the color drains from your cheeks. When you speak, he’s surprised by how helpless you sound and the fact you’re trying to reassure him, putting his needs above your own although you’re struggling to hold yourself together. Fear flickers across your features at the echo of the brothers’ voices travelling up the stairs, and he mumbles out an apology as he carefully lifts you into his arms, cradling you to his chest.

Before the others can round the corner, he hurries down the hall and slips into your room, determined to protect his vulnerable human. He notices you relax against him, your fingers curling into his shirt, and he can’t help but want to keep you close, relieved after you lean in closer to wrap your arms around his neck. Stroking your hair, he allows you to cry, his patience and love for you endless. Eventually, you mutter an embarrassed sorry, thanking him profusely, but he’s merely relieved you’re beginning to feel a bit better, reassuring you that you can always depend on him.

Listening to you intently, he never breaks eye contact. You open up to him about your anxiety, his stomach twisting as you describe what you call a panic attack and how it wrecks you both mentally and physically. Beelzebub knows he has a lot to learn, but he expresses interest in understanding anxiety and, most importantly, how he can help you, so you don’t suffer alone. For the rest of the night, he keeps you company and eases you through the remainder of your attack, giving you plenty of hugs and rubbing your back in soothing circles until you no longer shake, and your heartbeat returns to its usual pace.

BELPHEGOR

Belphegor enjoys the time you spend together, especially when the two of you are alone. He asks you to accompany him in the attic, and it’s not long before he curls around you, falling into a peaceful sleep as he listens to the steady beat of your heart. However, when he awakes it’s to the sound of your soft cries in the dark, which fill him with a fear he can’t seem to shake. Without hesitation he’s at your side, sitting up to softly place a hand on your shoulder and ask you what’s wrong. The sadness in your eyes as you glance up at him, tears staining your cheeks, tugs at his heartstrings. He can’t bear to see you upset.

Once he realizes you’re having a panic attack, he’s attentive to your needs, cradling you in his arms as you cry into his chest. You confided in him about your struggles with anxiety after you fell to pieces in front of him months ago. A part of him understands, the loss of Lilith haunting him throughout the years and instilling a similar feeling of unease within him, especially when his nightmares seem to blur the line between reality and the painful memories of his past. You always came to his rescue and now it’s his turn to comfort you in your time of need. Sleep can wait.

With you in his embrace, he brings you down to relax against the pillows, pulling the blanket around your shivering form. You rest your head on his shoulder, and he gently brushes the remaining tears from your face, whispering words of love and reassurance. He listens to you when you’re comfortable to talk, the slight tremble of your voice causing him to draw you closer and press a kiss to your forehead. Belphegor tells you he’s here for you—forever—and although he’s still learning about anxiety and finding the best ways to comfort you during an attack, he wants you to depend on him no matter what. Even if that means you wake him up in the middle of the night. He won’t rest until he knows you’re okay, and you’re peacefully sleeping in his arms.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me mc #obey me reader #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me scenarios #my writing

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bokutoslittlebird · 3 years

Note

miya twins and their 19 year old virgin little sister, samu probably caught you trying to fuck yourself and let your dildo be your first since a lot of your friends are teasing you for being a virgin and then atsumu caught you red handed, watching porn. and what would happen if one of them got you preggo? too horny to even think about anything, sorry birdie-san ㅠㅡㅠ

DIVINE. DELICIOUS. you know that audio with the cats? That was me when I read this

Warnings : pregnancy, cunnilingus, f. masturbation, porn video (briefly), a pink dildo, dubcon, incest, manipulation

It’s your nineteenth birthday and while you had a wonderful party with your family, you still feel so young and small. Your brothers are both attending colleges for their own career paths, but you’ve just got out of high school and have no idea what you want to do! You’ve been babied by your brothers, so you don’t have a clear view of the future for yourself that doesn’t include Atsumu and Osamu by your side.

One thing bothered you though: you were still a virgin. Thanks to your brothers, boyfriends were a foreign concept to you. All your friends lost their virginities before their birthdays, but your last friend lost her virginity on her birthday, a present from her boyfriend. You were slow to coming to the party and you told them you’d have lost it by the time your birthday came around, even getting a boyfriend!

A boyfriend quickly discarded by the brooding brothers of yours. A sneer from Atsumu and a glare from Osamu had his tail between his legs. Truly, a shame. You knew your friends would tease you again for the lack of a boy in your life, so you decided to, uh, pretend. A dildo was similar to a penis, right? That’s why they existed.

You didn’t know it’d be so hard! You have to have an orgasm to properly lose your virginity, that’s what your friends said. Pumping the silicone piece into your tiny cunt was harder than expected, only fitting half in before you started to pump it. It sent a tingling down in your tummy, but it was more effort than expected. Noises or frustration mingled with your forced moans, whining as your wrists started to hurt.

Osamu was doing his homework when he heard you make a noise of frustration, huffing and puffing. He didn’t pay too much attention to it, but then you made a similar noise. So, time to investigate. He wouldn’t want you to exert so much energy, you’re his baby sister! He expected to see you trying to get something off a high shelf, your shirt riding up to show your smooth stomach or you to be under your bed, shorts-clad— even better, panty-clad rump in the air. He did not expect to see you on your bed, legs spread and pumping a pink silicone dildo into your cunt. If only that was his—

“‘Tsu- ‘Tsumu,” you moan out, biting on your lower lip. Osamu’s mouth drops into a frown, growling at his twin’s name dropping from your mouth. You turn to look at the door, suddenly opened only to be slammed shut.

A startled gasp makes him stop in front of you, eyes burning with an unknown desire. “‘Samu! What’re you doing?” He just looks at you, eyes glancing at your hand still between your legs. Your eyes go down, shame burning in your face. “I’m trying to be a big girl. I wanna lose my virginity,”

“Why didn’t ya ask me?” He asks, putting his weight on your bed. You panic and close your legs, moving the dildo out of you. “And why ya callin’ out ‘Tsumu’s name? Huh? Am I not good enough?”

“N-No! That’s not it! ‘Samu, you’re scaring me!” You cry out, his large hands spreading your legs. Your puffy pussy is fully on display for him, his eyes noticing the lack of slick. “Don’t hurt me!”

“I’m not gonna hurt ya. I’m gonna help. Wanna be a big girl? I can help,” he says. He doesn’t move, though, waiting for your permission. Even though you’re hesitant — he’s your brother! You’re nodding your head, fingers soon finding themselves in Osamu’s darkened hair. He stopped dying it, so it’s completely natural again. His face is buried in your cunt, lapping at your folds as your moans aren’t forced, head thrown back as Osamu tongue fucks you. When he sticks two fingers into you, he doesn’t expect you to be so wet, a drastic difference from moments ago. He moves to wrap his lips around your clit, walls tightening as you finally release on his fingers and face.

When Osamu comes up, he’s licking his lips while you pant. “Did.. did I lose my virginity?” You ask him, tears clinging to your lashes.

“What d’ya mean?” You explain what your friends told you, all while he strips off his shirt and peppers kisses on your stomach, rising your shirt up as he does. “Nah, I gotta cum inside if you wanna lose it. You gonna let me do that?” The no hesitation in the nodding of your head has him grinning, straightening himself as he rubs his hardened cock through his pants. Today, fantasy becomes reality. “Alright, I’ll go slow,”

Even with his slow sinking into you, you’re gasping and clinging to his biceps for dear life, tears staining your pillow as he splits you open. He’s far bigger than the dildo, but the slick from your orgasm makes it much easier for him to slide in. He kisses your cheek, telling you how good you are. It’s the little praise that has you encouraging him to keep going, and he does. He keeps pushing in until he’s bumping against your cervix, almost completely inside of you. Your legs tighten around his waist, keeping him locked against you.

“Don’t worry, lil sis. I’m not goin’ anywhere,” he shushes, brushing your tears as he stays still. An occasional hiccup has his heart hurting, but he knows you’ll feel good eventually. Well, even if you don’t, he’ll start. When your legs loosen, dropping back to the plush bed, he starts moving. He’s still slow, spreading your walls for his thick cock as you continue to adjust. It’s not until you’re begging him for more does he pick up the pace, slamming his hips against yours. He has to cover your mouth so you don’t alert the whole house he’s fucking you, your screams of pleasure coming out. They’re muffled, but he can hear how much you’re enjoying it. It urges him to go even faster, grunting as he chases his own high.

Another screams rips from you, walls tightening as you cream on his fat cock, eyes rolling as toes curl. It’s enough to send Osamu over the edge, groaning as he buries himself even deeper inside, pumping you full of his cum, you milking every drop. He kisses you, your panting mouth perfect for him to give you a passionate kiss, staying deep inside you. He breaks the kiss, “I love ya, little sis,”

“Love you, too, nii-san,” you smile, kissing him again.

It’s all you ever wanted, to be a big girl. It also brings you and Osamu closer together, you often bouncing around the idea to help him in his shop once he gets it set up. When you go into his room, the door locking behind you, you miss the way Atsumu glares. He has a feeling you’re not studying with Osamu, but there’s nothing to suggest otherwise.

Well, when Osamu is late from coming back from college, Atsumu is the only one home. It’s a small breath of fresh air, relaxing his tired muscles after a long practice match. When he hears small grunts and moans from your bedroom, he goes to investigate. You shouldn’t be home, let alone have anyone with you. The creaking of the floorboards doesn’t stop the noises from your room, Atsumu’s curiosity spiking. Peeking into your open door, he sees you on your back, legs spread open as your laptop plays an obscene video, the moans and grunts coming from the speakers. Your occasional moan is muffled by the shirt hem in your mouth, but it’s dropped when you moan out Osamu’s name, eyes rolling back as your fingers work on your clit.

Atsumu glares at the mention of Osamu’s name, shutting the door that has you jumping and struggling to explain yourself. “Ya think ‘Samu’s better than me? Is that it?” They’re so similar, it’s striking. The hungry eyes, full of anger and lust, they look so much like Osamu’s, but the light blond hair reminds you it’s Atsumu. “What’re you- Yer watchin’ sibling porn? Thinking of your big brother? ‘S that it?”

“No, it’s not what you think, ‘Tsumu!” Unlike Osamu, Atsumu’s one to take what he wants. He moves the laptop off the bed, spreading your legs as you squirm and struggle. “Lemme go!”

“Brats like you need to be put in place, don’t’cha know? You’re fucking soaked, getting off on your big bro that much?” You’re crying and still trying to kick him off, but it just turns him on even more. You’re still innocent and so naive in his eyes, it’s nothing for him to just take that from you. His cock is already hard, begging to sink into your warm depths. “You gonna let me fuck you? It’ll be like that video you were watching,”

You’re shaking your head, pushing at his chest as he leans down to press kisses to your neck. “C’mon, lil sis. I’m not gonna hurt ya. You trust me, right?” It’s a question that has your movements stopping, glossy eyes looking at Atsumu. He’s smiling, your big brother not showing any hint of malice. You sniffle, his thumbs swiping away the silver droplets on your cheeks.

“As long as you promise not to hurt me, okay ‘Tsumu?” You ask him, big doe eyes of innocence as you look at him. He grins and kisses your lips, licking your bottom lip. A whispered breath of ‘wouldn’t dream of it’ is all you hear before his mushroom head is pushing at your entrance. He’s just as big as Osamu, but it’s still hard to take in. You’re nice and slick, though, Atsumu notes. All from watching some incest porn, it’s almost funny to him how all you had to do was ask, no reason to hide it! Him and Osamu have been dreaming of keeping you all to themselves, there’s no reason for you to hide your desires.

Once he’s bottomed out, he doesn’t let you adjust, immediately pulling out to thrust back in. It’s sharp and rough, knocking the air from your lungs as your head gets thrown back. Atsumu’s quick to attach his lips to your neck, sucking the flesh and digging his teeth into the skin. It’s a way to show he’s claimed you, as if he doesn’t plan on coming inside. That’s his goal — mark you inside and out. With your arms above your head, grasping the pillows, there’s no reason for him to not. Licking his thumb, he presses it to your clit and flicks it, sending shockwaves through you as you scream and cream around his cock, thighs tightening around him. He’s not too far behind you, rutting against you as he paints your insides white, sending you into another orgasm, juices spraying against his abdomen.

“Lookie there! You just squirted all over me,” he chuckles, rubbing your shaking thighs. You’re overstimulated, so he doesn’t push another round. There’ll be time for that later.

A week later, you find yourself in a dilemma when your clothes won’t fit. Worried about gaining weight, you confide in your big brothers who give you a test. “Just pee on it. It’ll tell you if you’re overeating,” they said. They’ve never lied to you before! When those two lines pop up on the plastic tool, you show it to them, confused. They tell you you’re pregnant, but then comes the question. Who’s the dad? Really, does it matter? They have a lot of love to give you and they’re twins. Your child is gonna look like both of them no matter what.

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waitimcomingtoo · 3 years

Text

Trial Run

Part one and three

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader enemies to lovers!

Synopsis: last week you hated each other, this week you’re making out in his bed.

Masterlist

Since you and Peter weren’t exactly friends before, you didn’t have each other’s numbers. You had no way of communicating with him once you went home. Meaning, you had no idea what you’d be walking in to on Monday. All you knew was you made out with your former rival. You didn’t know what it meant to him; you barely knew what it meant to you. So when you saw him at the lockers upon entering school, you had to brace yourself.

You walked up to your locker and kept your head straight as you unlocked it. You could feel Peter’s eyes on you, just as you could feel him fumbling for words to say.

“Hey.” You said casually without looking over at him. You were doing your best to play it cool, when you were internally freaking out around him.

“Hey.” Peter said immediately, overly excited that you were the first to speak. “How are you? Um, how was your weekend?”

“Good.” You said simply. “How was yours?”

“Good.” Peter nodded. He stared at you for a minute as he worked up the courage to say something better.

“I thought about you a lot.” He said quietly, adverting his eyes so he wouldn’t lose his nerve. You sucked in a sharp breath, hating how easily he could fluster you.

“Did you now?” You asked without looking at him.

“Yeah.” He smiled shyly. “I really liked it when you kissed me.”

You couldn’t help smiling at his words, despite you trying to fight it. You looked at him, saw his signature shit eating grin, and rolled your eyes.

“I liked it too.” You said quietly, not wanting to give him the satisfaction.

“Okay, good.” He nodded happily. “We’re on the same page.”

“I guess we are.” You looked at him as you shut your locker.

“In that case, do you want to be my girlfriend?” He asked hopefully as he twisted his shirt around his fingers. For once, you found his nervous behavior to be cute. You wanted to say yes, but you had to make sure he was all in first.

“Not yet.” You decided. “I said I’d be willing to give this a try. I can’t commit to anything until I know what kind of boyfriend you’d make.”

“How can I prove to you that I’d be a good boyfriend?” Peter wondered. You pursed your lips as you thought about it, not having thought that far ahead. You looked down at the books in your arms and held them out to him.

“Carry my books.” You instructed.

“Okay.” Peter took your books from you and walked with you when you moved.

“I like old fashioned romantic gestures.” You explained as you walked together. “Carrying books, opening the door, asking the father for permission to date, things like that. I want a gentleman. I wouldn’t date anything less.”

“Okay.” Peter nodded as he made a metal note. “I can be a gentleman.”

“Walk faster.” You commanded, and he picked up his pace. “I don’t just want you to be a gentleman though. You have to be rough with me sometimes. Tell me when I’m being ridiculous and shut me up with a kiss every now and then.”

“Nice. I finally know a way to shut you up.” Peter joked.

“Cute.” You narrowed your eyes at him. “I’m telling you all of this now because I think communication is the most important thing in a relationship. This is what I want in a relationship. If you can’t give it to me, then we’ll just be friends. No harm done.”

“Okay. Gentleman, kisses, books. I can do this.” Peter hyped himself up.

“Good.” You smiled and stopped walking. “So what are your conditions for a relationship?”

“I don’t know if I have any.” Peter realized. “I’ve never been in a a relationship before.”

“Well what do you want from me?” You asked him. Peter thought about it for a minute before making a decision.

“Can I hold your hand?” He asked, and you fought back a smile at his innocence. You looked down at his free hand and frowned suddenly as something dawned on you.

“Are you still gonna like me if I start being nice to you?” You asked without looking at him.

“What?” He asked. “Of course I will.”

“I don’t know.” You shook your head. “What if you had some underlying degradation kink that I was fueling? And if I stop being mean to you, you’ll stop liking me.”

“I liked you before you were mean to me.” Peter assured. “And I don’t have that kink. At least, I don’t think I do.”

You looked at him for a minute, unsure of what you wanted.

“I don’t want to start this if you’re gonna break my heart.” You said quietly.

“Hey.” He said comfortingly. “I won’t do that. I’ve never broken a girls heart before.”

“Didn’t you say you’ve never been in a relationship before?”

“Yes.” He realized. “But even if I had, I wouldn’t have broken anyones heart. Not on purpose, at least. You have just as much of a chance of breaking mine.”

“I’ll try not to.” You smiled a little.

“I would appreciate that.” He told you. Your smile widened as you fell just a little bit more for Peter. You let out a dramatic sigh and looked up at the ceiling.

“You can hold my hand.” You said like it was inconvenient for you.

“I appreciate that even more.” Peter grinned as he took your hand. You continued walking to class, hand in hand.

You reached your classroom and stood outside of it, hesitant to go inside. You’d only ever sat in that class as Peter’s rival, and now you guys were almost dating. You looked at him holding your books and squeezed his hand gently.

“Just so you know, I want this to work.” You told him honestly. Peter’s cheeks turned pink as he gave you a small nod.

“I do too.”

“Good.” You smiled. “Now get inside. I don’t like being late.”

You and Peter walked into the classroom hand and hand with his books still in his arms. Before you could take a seat, your teacher stopped you.

“Wow.” She folded her arms and smirked. “It looks like my plan worked.”

“I’m sorry?” You asked.

“Making you guys partners seems to have paid off.” She pointed to your books in Peter’s arms.

“Peter was just taking a break from his usually monkey brained self to do something polite.” You stammered.

“And Y/n couldn’t carry her books because she’s too busy carrying the weight of being the most obnoxious person in this part of New York.” Peter followed up.

“Mhm.” She nodded. “And the hand holding?”

“It was his idea.” You said at the same time as Peter said, “She let me.”

“Right.” She clicked her tongue. “Take a seat you two.”

You and Peter took your usual seats and kept quiet the entire class. The rest of the class was quick to notice the absence of the typical taunting banter that usually occurred between you and Peter. In its place, much to everyone’s surprise, was your dangling hands holding each other’s under the desks. His left hand was reaching forward while yours was reaching back, meeting in the middle and staying that way throughout the period. You didn’t know why you let him hold you hand the entire time. He didn’t know either. All you knew was you liked the feeling of his hand in yours.

At lunch time, you found yourself walking towards Peter’s table instead of sitting with your other friends. You had no idea why you wanted to sit with him, but you felt yourself missing him throughout your classes. You silently put your lunch down next to him and began to eat. Peter and Ned exchanged a look and Peter nearly choked on his food.

“You’re sitting here?” Peter asked with a mouth full of food.

“Is there a problem?” You asked as you looked between him and Ned.

“No.” Peter shook his head. “I’m glad you’re here. I’m happy to see you.”

“Shut up, loser.” You snickered as you leaned into him. He leaned back before wrapping an arms around your shoulders. Ned stared at the two of you in shock, usually accustomed to you going at each other’s throats. When Peter told him you’d kissed, he thought he was kidding.

“So are you guys like a couple now?” Ned asked, interrupting the moment. Peter didn’t know how to answer, so he looked to you.

“We’re giving it a test run.” You shrugged. “For now, we’re just casually dating.”

“When will you know if you want to be a couple?” Ned continued.

“I kinda had the same question.” Peter said sheepishly. You thought about it for minute, not exactly sure of your answer.

“Tell you what.” You decided. “If I ever look at you and feel an overwhelming need to kiss you, thats when I’ll know.”

“Okay.” Peter nodded. “I can work with that.”

“So how’s your project going Ned?” You asked as you changed the subject.

“Well, Gwen and I haven’t started dating, so not as good as yours.” He joked.

“Yeah, well. She’s missing out.” You winked at him.

“Not really.” Ned shrugged. “I’m exactly like Peter, just without the abs.”

“And I’m like Ned without the beautiful Hawaiian complexion.” Peter complimented back.

“Woah. Didn’t realize sitting here meant I’d be third wheeling on your date.” You joked.

“You’re not.” Peter didn’t get the joke. “You can sit here whenever you want.”

“Not that I care”, you prefaced ‘“but did you say Peter had abs? As in defined abdominal muscles?”

“Yeah.” Ned nodded as Peter’s face went red. You looked at him with a knowing smile and he knew exactly what you were thinking.

“Don’t.” He warned you.

“I knew you were on steroids!” You said excitedly. “I called it and I was right.”

“I am not on steroids.” Peter whined.

“I knew it.” You insisted. “Your arms got bigger practically overnight and now you have abs?”

“I work out.” Peter lied.

“No you don’t.” You snorted.

“I’m Spider-Man.” He tried again.

“I’d believe you work out before I’d believe that.” You told him, much to his relief.

“Then I guess we’ll never know.” He shrugged, sneaking a knowing glance at Ned. “Do you want to come over later? We can continue working on the project.”

“Sure.” You shrugged, feeling nervous butterflies in your tummy. “I’ll meet you by the lockers after the last bell.”

“Don’t be late.” He smiled.

“Don’t tell me what to do.” You deadpanned, making his smile fall.

“I’m just kidding.” You smiled. “God, you’re so gullible.”

“You don’t like to make things easy, do you?” Peter joked as he leaned on his hand to stare at you. The way he was looking at you sent a wave of butterflies into your tummy, causing you to look away.

“Hm.” You grinned. “No I do not.”

“Hey May.” Peter called as he set his keys down by the door. Your heart rate quickened when you heard footsteps coming into the room.

“Hey, Peter. How was your -oh! Hello.” May stopped short when she noticed you standing behind him.

“Hi, Miss Parker. I’m Y/n.” You introduced yourself since you didn’t meet her last time you were over.

“You’re Y/n?” May asked. “The one from your physics class?”

“Yeah. Peter and I have a few classes together actually.”

“Is this the one you called a b-“

“Beautiful, sweet Angel.” Peter cut her off and smiled at you. “Yes, this is her.”

“Oh.” She was surprised. “Hi. You can call me May.”

“It’s nice to meet you, May.” You smiled as you shook her hand.

“You too. Wow.” She laughed. “You’re nothing like I pictured.”

“May.” Peter said warningly.

“What?” She asked. “The way you described her, I figured she had horns and a little tail.”

“Oh, I do.” You nodded. “I just hide them well.”

“Peter.” May said pointedly. “She’s not nearly as bad as you told me. What are you guys doing here anyway?”

“We have a group project.” He said.

“We’re also dating.” You followed up. Peter looked at you in pleasant surprised, feeling very happy that you said that.

“Finally.” May scoffed. “I knew you liked her. No one whines that much about a girl he doesn’t like.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Peter rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment.

“Well, I’ll leave you guys to it.” May said. “Do you guys need anything before I go? Snacks? Drinks? Condoms?”

“We’ll take some condoms.” You said casually. May raised her eyebrows as Peter choked on his saliva.

“Kidding.” You said through an awkward smile. “That was a joke. Thank you, though.”

“We’re gonna go to my room now.” Peter quickly ushered you out of the room. “Bye May!”

“It was nice meeting you!” You called as he pushed you into his room. As soon as his door was closed, you put your hands on your hips.

“You told you aunt I was a bitch.” You pointed at him accusingly.

“No.” Peter pointed back at you. “I told her you were a brat.”

“Oh.” You relaxed. “Well that’s not that bad.”

“Is that a deal breaker?” Peter worried. “I kinda told her we hate each other.”

“Peter, you have to stop being so worried about messing this up.” You said as you rubbed his arms. “I told you, I want this to work. You have to relax a little.”

“Okay.” He sighed. “I’m sorry. I’m just having a hard time believing you like me back.”

“I like you some of the time.” You shrugged before cracking a smile.

“Hey.” He whined.

“I’m teasing.” You told him. “I’m just getting used to being nice to you. If it makes you feel better, I’m starting to like you a lot more.”

“I guess that does make me feel better.” He mumbled.

“Good.” You smiled and patted his cheek. “Now stop whining about it, brat.”

“You’re the brat.” He scoffed playfully as he put his hand over yours. You sucked in a breath at how close you were, hearing your heartbeat in your ears. Peter’s eyes fell to your lips before going back to your eyes.

“Can I kiss you?” He asked softly.

“Shut the fuck up.” You matched his soft tone with a harsh one.

“Okay.” He backed up. “Sorry.”

“I’m kidding.” You assured him as you pulled him back to you. “You can kiss me.”

He rolled his eyes at you before cracking a smile.

“You’re mean.” He mumbled as he put his hands on your face.

“Yeah, but you like that.” You whispered as you leaned up to kiss him. He pulled your closer by your face as you slid your hands under his shirt. He was a surprisingly good kisser for someone who had never been in a relationship before, and you wanted to test his limits. You dragged your fingernails down his stomach and just as Ned told you, he had abs. He groaned at the unfamiliar feeling and began to move backwards. You followed him until you both fell on the bed. Peter rolled on top of you and continued kissing you, slipping his fingers through yours to hold your hands. You licked his bottom lip and he took the hint to open his mouth. His kisses were clumsy and awkward, but you absolutely loved them. You made out on his bed just like last time, your project long forgotten. Neither of you had any idea how much time had passed before you both collapsed on his bed to catch your breath. You rolled over and rested your head on Peter’s chest, feeling his rapid heartbeat beneath you. You rested your hand on his stomach, mindlessly playing with the soft material of his sweater.

“Hm.” You pouted as Peter wrapped an arm around you and rubbed your shoulder with his thumb.

“What’s wrong?” He wondered.

“I really like you.” You realized as you made a disgusted face.

“Is that a bad thing?” He chuckled.

“Yes!” You exclaimed. “I don’t want to have feelings. Especially not for you. We’re supposed to be enemies but…”

“But what?” Peter asked when you trailed off.

“But I never want to leave this bed.” You mumbled as you you held him closer. Peter laughed again and kissed the top of your head.

“It’s okay.” He insisted. “I really like you too.”

“Gross.”

“If I have to stop worrying about messing this up, you have to stop worrying about letting this happen.” He reasoned. “It’s okay that we like each other. I didn’t see it coming either.”

You let out a sigh and gazed up at him.

“I hate when you’re right.” You mumbled.

“You’re gonna have to get used to that.” He told you as he stroked your face.

“Why would I get used to something that only happens once a month?” You asked. He gave you a look so you smiled.

“Kidding.” You told him. “We can still bully each other, right? Or does that have to stop if we’re dating.”

“It depends. You said you need communication, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.” He nodded. “I don’t like it when you make jokes about me being on steroids. I’m scared people are going to believe you and then I’m gonna have to pee in a cup in front of the principle. I’m very pee shy.”

“Thank you for letting me know.” You laughed. “I won’t make those jokes anymore.”

“What about me?” He asked. “What’s off limits?”

“Well unlike you, I can take a joke, so nothing is off limits for me.” You shrugged, always taking the opportunity to tease him.

“Hardy har.” He said sarcastically.

“Actually, wait.” You thought of something. “Don’t call me a bitch. Brat is fine but bitch crosses the line.”

“That’s easy.” He said. “I only ever called you that in my head anyway.”

You gave him a look and he laughed.

“Kidding.” He mimicked your voice. “You have my word. I won’t ever call you that.”

“All right.” You sighed in content. “I feel better now.”

“Does this mean I can start calling you my girlfriend?” Peter asked.

“Not yet.” You decided. “I haven’t decided if I want to do this for real yet. I’m still weighing my options.”

“Okay.” He nodded. “Take your time. No pressure.”

“Well that makes it sound like you don’t care either way.” You whined as you sat up.

“I do. I do care.” He assured you as he sat up. “But I don’t want to rush you. I really want to give this a try, but only if you do too.”

You looked at him for a while as you processed what he said.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” He wondered.

“You’re making it really hard to justify not liking you all these years.” You told him, and he couldn’t help but smile.

“Good.” He shrugged. “I want you to like me.”

“I got my heart broken pretty badly in the past.” You whispered. “Because I liked someone a little too much.”

“I already told you, I’m not gonna break your heart. I’m not like that.”

Your lips tweaked into a smile before you leaned in to kiss him.

“You better not be.”

You continued casually dating Peter throughout the week, getting closer to telling him you wanted to be his girlfriend every day. He carried your books for you, opened your door, and shut you up with kisses, just like you asked. By Friday, you were ready to make it official. You found him in the hallway between classes but before you could tell him what you decided on, he started to speak.

“What are you doing after school today?” He asked as he bounced on his heels.

“Volunteer Club was cancelled so nothing.” You answered. “Why?”

“I want to take you somewhere.” He explained. “But it’s a surprise.”

“I knew it.” You shook your head. “I knew you and your cult were gonna kill me.”

“There is no cult.” He huffed. “Just meet me here after school, okay?”

“Okay.” You looked at him skeptically as he broke out into a grin. “But what-“

Peter cut you off with a kiss before telling you, “It’s a surprise! No more questions.”

He quickly scurried away before you could ask him anything else, leaving you a blushing mess in the hallway.

After school, you walked with Peter’s hands over your eyes to an unknown location. The walk was pretty far and his hands we’re starting to get sweaty on your face. If you didn’t like him so much, you would have complained.

“Okay.” Peter announced. “We’re here. You can look.”

Peter uncovered your eyes and let you look around. When you realized he had brought you to a cemetery, you looked at him for answers.

“I was doing a little research, I hope you don’t mind.” He prefaced. “This lot is closest to the Grey Sloan Memorial hospital, so it’s where they put most of their car crash victims.”

“Yeah.” You nodded as you kept your eyes ahead. “I know.”

“This is where they buried your parents, right?” He asked quietly. You looked at him, impressed that he was able to find out where they were, and nodded.

“Yeah.” You said softly. “It is.”

“Can you take me to them?” He asked politely. You opened your mouth to speak, but found no words. Instead, you took Peter’s hand and lead him to your parents graves.

There was a pile of roses laid in front of the headstones, all in different stages of decomposition. Peter took his backpack off his shoulders and pulled out two roses. He handed one to you and kept the other in his hand. Before you could say anything, Peter got down on one knee in front of the headstone.

“Mr. and Mrs. L/n, it’s an honor to meet you.” He began. “My name is Peter Parker. I’m sure Y/n has complained about me a few times to you guys. I’ve definitely given her a lot to complain about.”

You chuckled at his words as tears came to your eyes. You thought what he was doing was sweet, if a little morbid. You knew his intentions were pure and that’s what mattered.

“I came here today for two reasons. The first was to meet the parents of the most unpredictable, intelligent, and beautiful person I have ever met. She’s also super annoying. Like, you would not believe how annoying this girl is.” He joked. “Or I guess, maybe you would. In my opinion, she gets a little easier to endure everyday.”

Peter looked back at you to see if you were still listening, and you gave him a thumbs up.

“My other reason for coming here was to formally ask you for permission to date your daughter.” He continued. “I know it’s ultimately her decision, but she likes old fashioned romantic gestures. So here I am, asking for your blessing.”

You covered your mouth with your hand as happy tears fell from your eyes. Not only had Peter remembered what you listed off to him, he followed through with the most thoughtful romantic gesture you’d been given. He turned around again to look at you, shielding his eyes from the setting sun.

“They’re kinda quiet.” Peter joked. “Do you think they said yes?”

“Peter?” You said weakly.

“Yes?”

“I’m feeling that overwhelming need to kiss you right about now.” You told him with a tearful smile.

“I bet you are, loser. Can you give me a minute? I’m in the middle of a conversation.” He rolled his eyes before turning back to the headstone. “So, you guys enjoying the weather?”

You let out a laugh and wiped your face free of tears.

“Peter. Stand up right now.”

Peter obliged and stood up to face you.

“You said you liked romantic gestures.” He began to apologize. “It was either this or I pull out a ouija board and-“

You cut Peter off by throwing your arms around him and kissing him. He kissed you back immediately, stabilizing you as you stumbled into him. Something inexplicable made this kiss feel different from the last ones. This time, you were letting yourself feel everything you wanted to feel for Peter.

“Wait.” You pulled away suddenly and held him back from you.

“What’s wrong?” He worried.

“I don’t want to get caught making out with my boyfriend in a graveyard.” You told him. “That’s too weird. Even for you.”

“You called me your boyfriend.” Peter smiled happily, ignoring everything you said except that.

“Did I?” You played dumb. “I didn’t even notice.”

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