#i just wanted to do a fuller body image and this was the only one I could find

[valeskafics]

"What To Expect When You're Expecting" - Michael Gavey x Bimbo!Reader

a/n: from a request for michael x pregnant!reader. this can be read as a follow up to most of the bimbo works, but mainly to the babytrapping fic and catton!reader fic as reader is a catton in this. thank you to my loves @officerbrowneyes @lovelykhaleesiii @aemondsbabe for brainstorming this with me!! 🩷

Summary: A peek behind the curtain into your pregnancy.

TW: profanity, innuendo, she/her pronouns, afab reader, pregnancy, lactation kink, p in v sex, breeding kink, tiddy succin,

Word Count: 2,080 words

Rating: 18+, MDNI

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Saltburn characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are never required but are immensely appreciated 🩷

Week Six

Michael knows he shouldn’t hover as he does, worry as he does. But you’re his sweet little wife, the love of his life, and you’re having his baby. It’s sort of his job to worry, isn’t it? Maybe it’s just his Daddy instincts kicking in, maybe it’s just the inherent protectiveness he feels over you. But he refuses to let you so much as lift a finger if there’s something he can do.

That’s why he panics when he wakes up to you tugging on the sleeve of his tee shirt, a miserable expression on your face, your body shaking, “Mikey? I threw up.”

He immediately pulls you into his arms, peppering your face with kisses, “Oh, no, baby. Are you alright? Do you need me to get you something to drink? I’ll go clean it up-”

“I cleaned it.”

He frowns, “Love, you know I would’ve done it-”

“I know, but it’s gross and I don’t want you to have to do it,” you mumble, eyes welling with tears, “I’m gross, Mikey. I have to pee every two seconds and I feel like I’m gonna throw up all the time.”

“Hey,” Michael says quietly, pressing a kiss to your temple, “You’re being really mean to the girl I love, you know? I don’t appreciate that. Be a little kinder to her, yeah?”

You giggle, resting your head on his shoulder, “You’re funny.”

“Yeah, and you’re beautiful. Let’s go to bed, my love.”

Week Eight

“Miiiiiiiiichael, I need you!”

Michael doesn’t quite know what to think when he walks into your shared bedroom only to see you standing in front of the mirror, hands on your hips, an adorable little pout on your face. Your brows are pinched together in annoyance as you stare at yourself. He does a double take when he realizes that you’re shirtless, his gaze immediately drawn to your tits, fuller and rounder than before due to the pregnancy. You turn and look at him, frowning.

“Why do my boobs look so big?”

His cheeks flush and he clears his throat, stammering, “That’s just part of the pregnancy. Your body is producing an overload of hormones that’s causing them to grow. It’s all normal. They might keep growing for a while, but then it’ll level out.”

He can’t stop the smile from spreading across his face as you let out an annoyed huff, “But they hurt! They feel so heavy! And, Mikey, do my nipples look bigger and darker to you?” He blinks owlishly, lips parted, but says nothing, prompting you to whine, “Michael, you’re not looking! Look at my nipples!”

Michael takes a deep breath, trying to ignore the way his cock twitches in his pants, and looks at your breasts, biting his lower lip, “Yeah, love. They do, but that’s normal too. Nothing to worry about.” 

You squint slightly before sighing and nodding, grabbing your clothes and following him out the door.

Week Sixteen

Michael nearly falls out of the chair at his desk from surprise when you burst into the room, shrieking excitedly, “She kicked, Michael!”

He turns to you, a bright smile on his face as he rushes to your side, moving to get down on one knee, resting a hand against your stomach, your bump finally starting to show, “Did he?!”

“SHE!”

Michael snickers at your certainty that it’s a girl, but nods, “How long have you been feeling kicks, love?”

“A little while,” you begin rambling, your hands moving excitedly as you grin at him, “I mean, I thought I just had to fart at first, but it was the baby!”

He smirks at you, tickling your stomach, making you burst into laughter, pulling you into his arms, “Oh, it was a kick, was it? You sure it wasn’t just gas, love? You sure it was our little one?”

You slap his chest, pouting, “Mikey!”

“I’m just messing with you, baby. I think the little one is just restless to meet us.”

“I can’t wait to meet her either,” you sigh happily, pressing your lips against his in a gentle kiss, “I love you, Mikey.”

“I love you too, baby, so fucking much.”

Week Eighteen

Michael feels like a fucking pervert for suggesting it. He struggles to even get the words out. You’ve been complaining about your tits aching, feeling so swollen and sensitive, for the last week or so. He’s read about it online, that it can help relax you. But he doesn’t know if you’ll call him a filthy pervert and push him away. No, you wouldn’t. He’s your husband and you love him.

“I could… I could take some of the milk.”

You tilt your head to the side curiously, thinking to yourself for a moment, before chirping, “Okay!”

It takes so little convincing. You just strip your shirt off and take a seat on the bed, smiling up at him sweetly. Michael swallows thickly and moves to lay down beside you, his lips wrapping around one of your swollen nipples, hearing your sharp intake of breath at the feeling. He suckles at you gently, greedily coaxing the milk from your breast, letting out a moan of pleasure when he feels its sweet taste on his tongue, and you a moan of relief at the feeling of release.

Michael continues nursing from you, his hand resting against your bump as he switches to your other breast, his eyes meeting yours. The moment is so glaringly intimate, it makes his heart ache. The love you have for each other.

The trust you have in each other.

He nearly blushes at the wet popping noise his lips make when they pull off of you, resting his forehead against yours, “Did it help?”

You nod, smiling at him softly, “Yes. Thank you, Mikey.”

“Any time, my darling. Really.”

Week Twenty

“Oh, Miiiichael, darling, good morning!”

Michael barely resists the urge to cringe when your mother pinches his cheeks, removing his glasses, “Erm, Elspeth, I’m sorry, but I can’t really see.”

“That’s alright, darling, you don’t need to. If I didn’t have to, I wouldn’t.”

Venetia snorts, taking a drag off her cigarette. Felix slaps it out of her hand, declaring that she can’t do that in front of you in your delicate condition. Michael nods a quick thanks at your twin, resting his arm around the back of your chair. Oliver speaks up next from his seat beside his boyfriend.

“You two found out the sex yet?” He asks politely.

You nod, taking Michael’s hand in your own, smiling radiantly, your face glowing with happiness, “A girl.”

“And you’ll be naming her after your favorite big sister, won’t you-”

You turn to Venetia, confused, “You’re my only big sister.”

She smiles at you, leaning over to ruffle your hair, making you pout, “Never change.”

“Have you tried breastfeeding?”

Felix turns to your mother, completely confused, “Mum, she hasn’t had the baby yet.”

“Not the baby, darling, Michael!” Your mother replies airily, “Your father did it for me so often. Even had some of my milk refrigerated to keep in the fridge for his tea.”

You meet your father’s gaze. He quickly looks away from you, covering his face at your mother’s exposure of his secret. Venetia stares at him, quite amused, while your mother continues rattling on, now deciding to embarrass Michael.

“Oh, Michael, don’t act like such a prude. We can all hear you suckling like a baby cow from the other room.”

You sink down in your seat, covering your face in horror, Michael looking much the same.

And, of course, Oliver chooses this moment to pipe in, “And I thought Felix and I were adventurous.”

Michael shoots him a dirty glare, wrapping his arm around you again as if to comfort you, barely resisting the urge to groan when your mother speaks again, “Oh, sweetheart, you and Felix did so much damage on my poor body. Twins will be fun, they said. The epidural was the only fun part.”

“Oh, I was actually thinking about a natural birth, Mum!”

The sound of your mother’s hysterical laughter echoes throughout the grounds.

Week Twenty Six

Seeing you cry is one of the most earth shattering things that Michael could ever experience. The way your lower lip trembles, your eyes growing watery with tears. He walks over to you, resting a hand on your back, asking you gently.

“What’s wrong?”

You look at him, bursting into tears, bawling, “I can’t tie my shoelaces. I can’t reach them.”

His heart breaks and he immediately bends down on one knee, tying your shoes, “You silly girl. Daddy’ll take care of that. Don’t you know I’m always going to take care of you?”

You giggle as he tickles the soles of your feet before helping you into your shoes, wiping your eyes, “Michael!”

He snickers, quickly tying your laces, though his smile fades a bit and he looks up at you, murmuring, “Is that really the only reason you’re crying?”

You look at him, mumbling, “Do you think I’ll be a good mom?”

Michael finishes tying your laces and moves to sit beside you, resting a hand on your thigh, squeezing gently, “You are the most loving, kind-hearted person I know. You’re going to be an amazing mother, my love. Our daughter is going to be the luckiest little girl in the world.”

You rest your head on his shoulder for a moment, sighing contentedly before standing, “Okay, I’m going to the gym!”

He takes a moment to admire the yoga pants and cropped tee shirt you’re wearing, showing off that gorgeous bump of yours, the sight making him nearly feral with desire. All he can think about is ripping that flimsy little shirt off your body, but, you’re already sauntering out the front door, waving goodbye.

“Remember not to let that heart rate get too high!”

“Whatever you say, Daddy!”

Week Thirty Four

“You cannot be serious, Felix.”

Michael stares at the pair of tiny pink Dior shoes with no small degree of distaste, while you admire them, oohing and aahing over Felix and Oliver’s baby shower gift for your little one.

“She’s going to look so cute,” Felix grins, “My precious little niece! A little princess!”

“She doesn’t need bloody Dior shoes-”

“Everyone needs Dior shoes,” Oliver retorts, earning an annoyed glare from his former best friend, “Besides, your wife likes them.”

He can’t deny that. You and Felix are looking at the tiny little shoes, giggling to each other about how adorable the baby will look in them. And Michael sees that Felix truly meant well in getting them. That he just wanted to do something for his twin. And so, he heaves a sigh, pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose, and thanks his brother-in-law for his generous gift.

When the two of you are home later that evening, you lay back, letting Michael rub some oil on your stomach, humming to himself as he does, murmuring to your baby bump, you move to caress his cheek with your palm, “Hey. I love you. Thank you.”

It’s times like these when Michael realizes you aren’t as oblivious as everyone thinks you are. That you pick up on the little things. He presses a kiss to your palm and smiles at you softly.

“You’re welcome, love.”

Week Forty

You take a bit of convincing when Michael suggests the two of you have sex to induce labor, considering how far along you are. You look down at him, your goddess-like body above him, his hands moving to cup your breasts. You tilt your head to the side, biting your lip, looking adorably perplexed.

“You’re sure the baby won’t feel anything?”

Michael snorts out a laugh, “No, love. She won’t feel anything. Now come on and ride Daddy’s cock like a good girl. Let me make you feel good, love.”

Everything is more intense with you in this state, every thrust inside your warmth, every moan you let out, every bounce of your hips. It doesn’t take long for Michael to get you to your peak, his voice a strained grunt as he vows.

“Gonna put another baby in you the moment I can, love. You want that, don’t you? Want me to fill you up? I know you do.”

“Fuck, Michael, I’m coming, fuck,” you whimper, reaching your peak, a look of shock overtaking you, “Did I just squirt?

“I… Love, I think your water just broke.”

#michael gavey x reader #michael gavey x you #michael gavey smut #michael gavey fic #michael gavey #ewan mitchell #saltburn fanfiction #saltburn fic #michael gavey fanfic #ewan nation #my writing #michael oneshot #bimbo!reader

[dolli-is-me]

Chapter III: Ways to impress the subconscious mind (part 1)

Hello everyone! Welcome back to another important subconscious mind post! This will be a full list of how to change the belief in mind and saturate yourself with your desires, in order for the 3d to bloom, remember, this post is heavily influenced by Joseph Murphy's book, "The Power Of Your Subconscious Mind"

So! Let's dive in the list, I'll provide their fullest details, you can choose one of them to go with it 💗

Just a heads up! These are only the first part of it! There are maaaany more but it took me so so much to write them down 💗, more to come!

Method I: The Passing Over- Technique

"This consists essentially in including the subconscious mind to take over your request as handed it by the conscious mind. This passing over technique is best accomplished in the reverie-like state. Know that in your deeper-mind is Infinite Intelligence and Infinite Power. Just calmly think over what you want, see it coming into fuller fruition from this moment forward, use this technique will complete simplicity and naivete"

To make it easier/

1. Get in a sleepy state, or any state where your mind is clear of anything

2. Begin to imagine your subconscious and conscious together

3. Repeat to yourself the affirmation you want, back it up with faith and power, as stated

4. Afterwards, imagine handing it over to your subconscious, don't need to imagine it if you don't want to, just understand, that you will hand it over to the subconscious mind

Method II: The Visualization Technique

"the easiest and most obvious way to formulate an idea is to visualize it, to see it in your mind's eye as vividly as if it were alive. You can see with the naked eye only what already exists in the external world, in a similar way, that which you can visualize in your mind's eye already exists in the invisible realms of your mind. Any picture, which you have in mind, is the substance of things hoped for and the evidence of things not seen. What you form in your imagination is as real as any part of your body. The idea and the thought are real and will one day appear in your objective world if you are faithful to your mental image, this process of thinking forms impressions in your mind, these impressions in turn become manifested as facts and experiences in your life, begin with quietening the wheels of your mind, then imagine your desire, simply fill it with the imagination, keep it going for a while"

To make it easier/

1. Get comfortable

2. Imagine your desire, use all of your senses one by one, see it in your mind's eye

3. Keep doing that until it felt natural, best time to do is when you wake up, the first 30 minutes

Method III: The Mental Movie Technique

"a picture is worth a thousand words, William James, the father of American psychology, stressed the fact that the subconscious mind will bring to pass any picture held in mind and backed by faith. Simply begin by imagining a short movie of your desires, playing it over and over again when you are in that drowsy state before sleep, with you being the main character, being the actor of your own movie"

To make it easier/

1. Get comfortable

2. Construct yourself a short movie where you are the main actor, with your desired outcome

3. Play that movie over and over, until it feels natural

Method IV: The Baudoin Technique

"Charles Baudoin was a professor at the Rousseau Institute in France. He taught that the best way to impress the subconscious mind was to enter into a drowsy, sleepy state, or a state akin to sleep in which all effort was reduced to a minimum. Then in a quite, passive, receptive way, by reflection, he would convey the idea to the subconscious. The following is his formula

(a very simple way of securing this is to condense the idea, which is to be the object of suggestion, to sum it up in a brief phrase, which can be readily graven on the memory, and to repeat it over and over again as a lullaby)

To make it easier/

1. Keep your mind awake, but let your body sleep, can be achieved by being in a really tired state, counting, imagining, daydreaming, listening to music, anything else that makes your body heavy and your mind clear

2. Make yourself a unique affirmation

3. Repeat that affirmation over and over again with full faith and belief, like a lullaby

4. Continue every day, soon enough you'll see it

#dolli memories posts! #void state #manifesting #void #void challenge #subconciousmind #subliminals

[thicctails]

I have an Easter treat for y'all! A sneak peek of Chapter 11 of De spatio inter astra :3

This is Miko's segment:

Miko was no longer Miko.

Entropy. That’s what the adults called her. They called her other things, too, like chaos-bringer and little warrior, but those weren’t designations.

Or, perhaps they were, for someone who wasn’t her.

The Sparkling thought about that, about strange designations and even stranger bots, and dipped her head back down to scoop up another mouthful of the delicious, filling metal that the loud Seeker had brought back for her, looking very proud of himself as he’d bestowed the gift upon the young one. She held the metal in her mouth and let the heat from her belly flow up her throat, chuffing happily as it bubbled and melted, sliding down into her tanks and leaving her feeling fuller than she could remember ever being.

Either way, she was Entropy now, though the name still tasted strange on her glossa and didn’t quite stick in her processor like Miko had. It wasn’t a bad designation by any means, and she liked it, really! But, Miko had been… her. It was what Jack, Raf and Cody had called her, it was what was whispered to her in her fuzzy dreams and even fuzzier memories, calling her to the brink of remembrance. It was what she called herself.

But she had no way of telling her new guardians that. They couldn’t understand her, not in the way her brothers could. They did not hear her language, and she could not will her glossa to form their complex words. They were locked in a state of passable communication, unable to truly speak but capable of getting across what they needed to.

Hadn’t… hadn’t she been able to before?

The Femme paused, denta only a hairsbreadth away from the next bite of her meal. She looked at her potential Sire and Carrier, watching as they spoke in soft, happy tones. Breakdown noticed her staring and gave her a warm smile, his red optics shining with adoration as he reached out and gently caressed the space between her wings

Miko- Entropy could have sworn that she’d been able to speak like them, had been able to make thoughts into words that��everyone had been able to hear. She’d spoken to… someone. Someone much bigger than her, with kind, blue optics and gentle servos. Images of green plating shining in a beam of sunlight and a deep laugh that she could feel with her whole body wavered in her processor like mist, present enough that she could catch glimpses, but never tangible enough to grasp.

She frowned, appetite waning as frustration rippled through her frame. Pulling away from Breakdown’s touch, Entropy transformed out of her altmode, wincing as the action pulled at her healing injuries. The Sparkling rubbed at her face, growling softly.

“What’s the matter, sweetspark?” Knock Out questioned, giving the Femme his full attention.

Entropy shrugged, tail flicking with agitation. She hated not being able to remember her life before her imprisonment. Honestly, she would have preferred it if she’d forgotten it entirely, at least then she’d be ignorant to the fact that there had even been a before to forget.

The Predacon huffed and walked towards the edge of the counter she’d been eating on, chirping at the older Cybertronians as she pointed towards the door. If she wasn’t going to eat, Entropy would rather go and explore instead of sitting around and doing nothing. She’d been feeling so energized lately, beyond grateful that she could move without her frame aching, or having to fight just to lift her head, and she’d seen so little of the world.

“Oh, you want to go for a walk? Alright, my litte star, we’ll take a quick stroll up to the navigation deck, but I want you to finish your ore when we get back. You’re still so skinny…” Knock Out fussed, scooping Entropy up and depositing her into his subspace. Entropy poked her helm out, fins perking up in excitement as some of her previous anger melted away.

She loved the navigation deck. It could be a little overwhelming, as there were usually many bots present in the space, but the fact that she could see outside made it all worth it.

The sky had enchanted her the first time she’d seen it. It had been her third day in this new place, and Knock Out had been keeping a much closer optic on her after she’d wandered away to explore and had ended up finding herself within Starscream’s nest, drawn by the warmth of his chassis. Since she couldn’t be left unsupervised, the medic had taken Mi- Entropy with him as he went to speak with Soundwave, who was confirming the location of another Energon mine. The Decepticon TIC had expressed a desire to see their newest addition, since he’d only witnessed the Sparkling in the throws of panic and agony.

Entropy had been happy enough to go somewhere new, but that feeling had been totally eclipsed by sheer, unbridled awe as she saw the night sky with her own optics, separated only by the glass of the huge windows that lined the room. She had memories of the sight, but they were as faded and foggy as the ones she’d seen today, not allowing her to truly know what her optics had once beheld.

It had seemed infinite to Entropy, a vast, dark expanse that cradled a thousand bright, twinkling stars within itself. Though it seemed wholly black at first, when Knock Out, upon seeing her obvious interest, brought her closer she began to see hues of blue and purple woven into the inky void. The navigation room was bathed in silver that night, lit by the gentle light of an enormous moon that shone brighter than all the stars combined. It had reminded her of her clutchmate’s optics, the ivory glow bringing tears to her own.

Today, though, the cool night had been replaced by the vibrant day, the sky coloured with a gradient of blue, fluffy, white clouds occasionally rolling over the glass and leaving behind drops of water that streamed upwards and out of sight. The Femme cooed in delight as she watched the shimmering drops race each other, smiling when Breakdown lifted her up and placed her on his shoulders so that she could see better. A thick cloud suddenly washed over the glass, dark and moist with rain. The rain splattered against the glass, fat drops crashing down so hard it almost sounded like thunder.

…thunder? What was-

“Come on Bulkhead, it’s just a little rain!”

“Miko, it’s pouring out there! It’s not safe!”

Miko laughed and leapt into another puddle. Her and Bulkhead had been out on a simple patrol when the sky had decided that the dry, desert earth deserved some rain today. It was a rare sight in Nevada, and Miko herself had only seen it rain here once before, and it certainly hadn’t been coming down as hard as it was now. So, obviously, she had launched herself out of Bulkhead’s cab the first chance she had gotten. She could see herself reflected in the Autobot’s armour, skin glistening with rain and hair plastered to her face and neck, her clothes now sodden and dripping. Usually, the sensation of wet hair and clothes against her skin would bother her, but the rain was warm and her excitement easily overtook any discomfort.

“Pshh. What, you scared of thunder or something?” She’d teased, resting her hands on her hips as she arched a brow at her partner.

“…”

“What?! Seriously? Dude, you’re like, ginormous! Plus, thunder can’t hurt you, it’s just the sound lightning makes, or something like that. Raf explained it to me once, but I wasn’t paying that much attention.”

She’d been shocked by the silent admission. Bulkhead, her Bulkhead, scared of something loud? That couldn’t be right; the two of them had caused explosions that were far louder than any thunder she’d ever heard.

“I know, but… we didn’t have thunder on Cybertron. There was rain, but it was made of acid and could melt any bot unfortunate enough to get caught out in it. The first time I ever heard it was a few weeks after we landed on Earth. Heh, I thought the ‘cons had found us at first, and even Prime got spooked when it started to rain.”

The thought of Optimus freaking Prime being scared of a little water was almost as unbelievable as her big green guardian being frightened by thunder, but as she took in what Bulkhead said, Miko began to understand. She imagined herself in his place, lost on an alien world that looked nothing like her home, surrounded by sounds that reminded her of war and fearing that the planet she’d landed on was about to shower her in acid. It must have been terrifying.

“Really? Huh… Well, don’t worry Bulk, I’ll keep you safe from any nasty thunder!” She’d promised enthusiastically, walking up to Bulkhead and placing a comforting hand on his leg as a flash of lightning illuminated the horizon, a clap of thunder rolling out across the vast desert soon after. Miko found that she no longer found the rain as delightful as she once had. Perhaps Nevada’s sparse rainfall was a blessing to the ‘bots, its rarity making it so they seldom had to worrythat the liquid would suddenly scald and melt them.

“Thanks Miko. I know you always have my back.” Bulkhead replied, giving her a fond look. He scooped her up into his hand and transformed back into his alt mode, blasting the girl with warm air and heating up her seat so that she wouldn’t catch a cold. “Come on, let’s head on back before Ratchet has a fit and starts ranting about me gett’n rusty…”

Entropy stared hard at the rain and tried not to tremble, her processor whirling in confusion as she tried to understand the first truly clear memory of her life from before the dark place. She looked at her servo, watched as the dark metal shifted and moved as she curled her digits, their curved points scratching against her palm. She looked at it, and wondered, for the first time, why it was like that. She pressed her claws in slightly deeper, and something within her felt sick when the metal did not yield to the pressure.

Where had her skin gone?

Miko- (no, no!) Entropy looked down at her frame, touching the beginnings of what would be her armour. The others often praised her for it; saying that she’d be a formidable warrior with an impenetrable hide someday, that she’d be healthy and strong soon, and that her first colours would show themselves after her armour formed. She pressed on it, but it did not give beneath the pressure like it had before, back when her tanks had never been full and her wounds always bled.

But it had before even then, hadn’t it?

Entropy was sharp and unyielding, Miko was soft and squishy,

Miko had memories of blue and rain, Entropy knew only red and fire.

Both had bled, but what flowed from torn flesh and what dripped from gouged wires were two entirely different things.

Entropy was a Predacon.

Miko was… had been…

Entropy looked at the glass again, and saw a face she knew belonged to her, and yet it was so wholly alien that it made her tanks churn and her frame rattle with pure, primal terror.

She didn’t know this creature.

She knew her better than anyone ever could.

She was not this being.

She once had worn her skin, spoke with her voice, looked with her eyes, and bled her blood.

She was Entropy

She was Miko.

She was both and neither, whole yet separate. The face she saw was both hers and someone that had died screaming back in that dark, dark place, ripped apart and put back together by the same holy being that lay trapped within the jaws of a sacrilegious machine.

Entropy touched her cheek, and felt that it was wet. She glanced up, wondering for a moment if perhaps the glass had broken, but soon felt another warm tear run over her claw.

She missed the warm rain and the lightning and the thunder that rolled across a desert that she’d seen a thousand times in her dreams. She wanted it back. She wanted the life that had been taken from her back.

Entropy wanted to be Miko again.

#de spatio inter astra #transformers #tfp #tf fanfiction #miko tfp #knock out tfp #breakdown tfp

[slasher-male-wife]

Slashers with an insecure chubby s/o part 2

This time around I’m gonna be doing Brahms, Billy Lenz and Jason

Also thank you all so much for 100 followers!!!!!!! I love and appreciate all of you

Warnings: This will talk about body image issues obviously, murder mentions typical slasher stuff. But other wise just comfort

Brahms

Brahms knows about being insecure. He’s learned to cope with it and is trying to learn about loving himself. He wants to help you feel better too.

Brahms could care less about if you’re chubby. He sees is as more of you to love. He’ll kiss your insecurities for you all the time. He won’t let you talk bad about yourself at all. If you do and he hears he’s gonna get upset.

Worried about how something looks on you? Brahms will hype you up and make you feel golden. He’ll keep kissing and hugging and complimenting you until you agree. If you don’t with all of those he’s just gonna throw a fit.

“Brahms come on I just don’t think these shorts look good on me. Like my thighs look huge.” You say turning and looking at him. You have these cute shorts you love but hate how they look on you. “They show my stretch marks too.” You cross your arms and Brahms gets on his knees. “Brahms what are you doing?” You ask.

“I’m showing you how much I love your thighs.” He says kissing them all over. You laugh and walk over to your bed.

“Ok Brahms ok. I just think I look wrong in these shorts. It’s my thighs that’s the issue.” Brahms walks over and gives you a hug.

“Y/N I’m a big man. I’ve got big thighs too. You’re not the only one with them. It adds a layer of protection for you. For injury’s.” You laugh and rub Brahms back.

“You promise you like the way they look on me?” You ask.

“I promise I do Y/N. I love everything about you.”

Billy Lenz

Bold of you to assume he doesn’t like fuller figures. The man is a horny slut he doesn’t care if you have belly fat and a soft jawline.

He’s honestly gonna be constantly hugging you. He loves the way you feel and how you keep him warm. He’ll also be giving you lots of kisses.

He’ll kill anyone who body shames you at all. If you manage to stop him he’s still gonna harass them over the phone. But whenever he sees you, his face lights up.

You push the the door to the attic and turn on the light. “Billy I’m here!” You say standing up. Billy gets up too and rushes over to you. Giving you a huge hug.

“Pretty baby! Billy m-m-m-missed you!” He sways you a little and you laugh, hugging him back.

“I missed you too Billy. I brought us some music to listen to to.” Billy pulls away and sits on a little mattress he has up there. Sometimes he sleeps with you other times he sleeps up here.

“What k-k-kind of music?” He asks. You pull out your phone and pull up Strawberry Switchblade. They make more calm music, hopefully not making Billy even more hyper.

“They’re a nice band. They make good music.” You play and album and set the phone down. Billy lays down and pats the side next to him. You lay down next to him and cuddle him. He cuddles into you and you two lay next to each other listening to the music: “Billy, am I um too chubby?” You ask. He just pulls you closer and tighter.

“Billy thinks there’s so such thing as too chubby. Billy loves his baby and their body. Billy’s pretty baby is perfect.” You smile and shut your eyes.

“Thank you Billy.”

Jason

Jason is a big man himself. Maybe not chubby but he is a giant. If he hears you talking bad about yourself and how heavy or big you are he’ll pick you up and smother you in love.

He doesn’t care what you look like, he’s insecure about the way he looks too, but he won’t let it get in the way of your love.

He’s gonna make sure you never skip any meals and eat enough. He’ll support your choices on your body. But no matter what he’s gonna love you.

“Jason I’m not sure about this shirt. It’s pretty tight.” You say turning looking in the mirror.” Jason sighs and signs ‘give me a minute’. He goes over to the closet and takes out one of his shirts. He hands it to you and you hold it. “Jason this is yours.” You try to hand it back but he pushes it away. You sigh and put it on. You look back in the mirror. Your belly is barely noticeable and although you still can see some of your shape it’s mostly gone. You smile and turn back to Jason. You hug him and he hugs you. “Thank you Jason.” He picks you up and carries you to the bed. He throws you down and lays next to you. You laugh and cuddle into him.

#slashers #horror #slasher #jason vorhees #brahms fluff #brahms the boy #brahms my beloved #the boy 2016 #billy lenz #billy lenz x y/n #billy lenz x reader #jason voorhees x reader #black christmas #friday the thirteenth

[writersmorgue]

Febuwhump Day 16 - Came Back Wrong

Thank you @lethxia for helping inspire this!

TWs in tags || read on Ao3 || wc: 847

◈━◈━◈━◈━◈

The doctors called it a miracle, but after 31 years of performing these so-called miracles , Shouta knew they were no step above fiction. 

And yet, there Oboro was, sitting in a hospital bed. 

If the DNA match hadn’t confirmed it, Shouta would’ve believed it was an entirely different man. 

When they did the Nomu reversal procedure for the first time, on some kid with a wing quirk, the doctors had to remove his entire quirk factor. Oboro’s situation ended up being sort of the opposite. 

Kurogiri had been some mass of black matter, not quite solid or gas, but present enough to be tied down by quirk suppressants. 

Oboro’s hair, now, is that same black misty color where it used to be stark white. His eyes shine yellow in the light and a strange TV static surrounds him at all times, like he could phase out of existence at any moment. 

The rest of him is generally the same, though he’s grown since Shouta had last seen him. No longer the lanky, energetic 15-year-old, now a solemn old man, who had been held prisoner in some hell limbo between life and death by the world’s most powerful supervillain. 

”Oboro?” Mic asks quietly, startling both of the other men. 

Oboro’s hair stiffens, like a cat raising its hackles, before softening when he catches sight of them. 

“Hey fellas, do you have any news?”

But that’s one thing the years of torment hadn’t changed, he was still selflessly devoted to helping others.

Hizashi shoots him a glance, sighing, “Yeah, we found the documents you mentioned.” He pulls said files out of his book bag and places them on the bed at Oboro’s feet. “They’re not-“

“I know what I’m getting into. I spent years looking after him, remember?” Oboro picks up the Manila envelope, the image of one Tenko Shimura stapled to the front. Big red letters marking him as Missing Deceased. 

”You’re sure this is him?” Mic presses, picking at the skin on his thumb. Shouta nudges him, silently telling him to relax. 

Oboro looks up at them, flipping the folder around and pointing at the image of Tenko as he might have looked aged up. The young man in the photo looks much healthier, with fuller cheeks and bright eyes, but he unmistakably resembles one Shigaraki Tomura. 

“I was All For One’s right-hand pet, I saw the kid when he first took him in, and it was Tenko.” He turns the folder back around, looking at the picture with sad eyes, “I wasn’t able to help him when he was young, still impressionable, but he’s only twenty now,” Oboro looks up at Shouta, “I know there’s a chance we can help him. Him and the rest of them.”

Mic huffs, “The bastard almost killed Shouta.”

Oboro’s eyes flit over the rest of the page, scanning details about the investigation and presumed homicide. Testimonies of family and friends claimed Tenko was a shy, kind boy; Nothing like the psychopath he was molded into.

His eyes pause on the line that gave Shouta doubts about this entire thing. 

Tenko had been born quirkless. 

“All For One forced a quirk on him that his body and mind couldn’t control.” Oboro reminds him, “He was picked up off the street after losing his entire family. The first person to show him kindness, a warm bed. Of course he was under his spell from the beginning. He was a child, Hizashi.” Oboro’s gaze is ice cold as he stares the hero down, “Mentally, he’s still a child.”

“I didn’t sleep when I was Kurogiri, and often I would hear him wake up screaming, crying for his mother or sister.” Oboro squeezes his eyes closed, shutting the folder and setting it back down on the shitty hospital blanket, “He was severely traumatized, and groomed to be a weapon, a tool for a supervillain.”

Mic has the sense to look guilty, scuffing his boot on the floor, “You’re right, Oboro. I know. It’s just… hard to forget.”

Oboro’s eyes soften, looking between Shouta and Mic, “I know I missed a lot, but I want you to trust me. I’m on your side against All For One, but Tenko, Dabi, Toga, Jin…” He shakes his head, “They deserve a chance.”

As much as Shouta hates to admit it, he’d had a hunch from the start. The first time he’d seen Toga she’d been so young, learning she was barely older than his own current class was as heartbreaking as it was right. 

And Dabi… Touya Todoroki. The shit he must have gone through as a child if Shouto’s habits are any indication. 

Fuck. 

“I agree with Oboro.” Shouta nods, “It’ll be rough, but they deserve our energy. Jin will be the hardest to make a case for, but I think we can do it. If I’m in, so is Tsukauchi.”

Shouta looks into the eyes of his oldest friend, a man he wished every day for over a decade could’ve had a second chance at life, and he makes a promise. 

”We’re gonna help them.”

#a day late but enjoy! #aizawa shouta #yamada hizashi #oboro shirakumo #league of villains #referenced child abuse #child abuse #tw grooming #referenced character death #trauma #murder #homicide #unsolved murder #canon typical violence #tenko shimura #shigaraki tomura #dabi #touya todoroki #toga himiko #jin bubaigawara #twice bnha #morgue's febuwhump 2024 #febuwhump #febuwhump 2024 #llyn writes shit #febuwhumpday16 #came back wrong

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

A Moment's Surprise--Chapter 1

Whether it's called an accident or the fates of the universe, you and Calum find yourselves taking on the next level of your relationship: parenthood.

Reader (Gender Neutral) X Calum. Multi-chapter Series.

Series Note: Across this series, pregnancy is discussed thoroughly. While I have made this series specifically a reader insert and have done my best to avoid coding for cis women, I am taking this moment to acknowledge that this content may not be suitable for every reader. I want to acknowledge even if I've been careful some things (like uteri) are still mentioned and if that causes you discomfort please DO NOT read this. You may keep scrolling (as there is a read more) / skip this as necessary.

Chapter Note: 18+ Content (Smut).

Series Masterlist

Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Epilogue

Chapter 1

It’s a slip of the tongue--really it is. With Calum’s chest pressed into yours, with his hips driving into yours, and with the smell of his fading cologne that he sprayed on hours earlier, your mind is clouded with the sensations and heat of the moment. You’re not thinking about what you’re saying or what you shouldn’t say. You’re just there, arms wrapped around Calum’s shoulders, kissing at his jaw and sighing at the pace at which his hips drive into you. Your mind is not helped by the clouding of your own orgasm. Calum’s right behind you--or at least he’s closing in on his own orgasm.

“Please,” you whisper into his ear. “I wanna be full of you.” As if you’re not full of him already, but you want to be fuller. “I need it, baby.”

Calum hums at your plea. “You need it? What do you need?” His words are soft in response to you, nose running the length of your jaw. His lips brush over your skin and it feels like small fires lighting your skin. But you love it. 

“Need you. Want you to put a baby in me,” you whine. A heat consumes your lower abdomen again and you can feel the telltale signs of a second orgasm. 

Calum stutters for a moment, and readjusts so he’s kneeling now between your legs and watching over your body beneath him. You’re so far into your own pleasure, head thrown back just a little into the pillow and he can see your pulse. “So that’s what it is,” Calum laughs slightly. You claw at him. It feels helpless and desperate and it stirs Calum’s stomach to watch you. “You really want me to put a baby in you?”

You nod, another whine crawling up your throat. “Yes, please. I need it.”

“You’d be so pretty,” Calum sighs. The thought fills his head only for a moment at first--you, swollen belly with his child. Another wave of desire stirs in Calum’s stomach. You’d glow in all honesty. Fuck, you with his child, it’s light a new fire in his soul. 

A sigh leaves your lips as Calum’s hip speed back up. The thrusts aren’t rapid, but they are deep and hard. “You want a baby? I can give you a baby,” he grunts. 

“Oh, God. Yes, a baby, please,” you whimper. The headboard knocks harder against the wall and you’re only focused on Calum. His brow furrows and you reach up to smooth the skin with your thumb. 

He takes one hand that was pushing your knees into your chest and holds the limb in place. His lips are soft as they brush the skin of your wrist. “I’d be happy to,” he whispers. Calum can’t shake the thought now of you with his child. He lets that image fuel him, as he’s driving his hips into you and as you plead beneath him so pathetically for it. 

Your second orgam rocks through you. You think you say something or maybe it’s just the thought of saying something. But either way you cling to Calum’s voice, the way he promises to fill you so deep, plug you after so you don’t waste a drop of his release. A shudder runs through you at the thought. 

Calum’s release is hard, locking up through his muscles faster than he anticipates. The sound, the ecstasy filled groan rings in your ears. Your skin is hot and clammy sweat, but the two of you lay in the haze of your slowly fading highs. The room fills with the sound of your A/C kicking on and soft, languid kisses. 

“Did you mean that? What you said about wanting a baby?” Calum asks. The two of you have yet to move from the bed just yet. 

Your eyes widen. “I-” You’d love to have a baby with Calum. But you weren’t sure if he was and though things had shifted in his career that having a family felt more tangible, he also loved to work. 

“You can be honest,” he encourages. “Because I can already tell you did.”

“That was supposed to be its own conversation. A whole thing, not done in the heat of the moment, you know?”

Calum nods, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “We can talk in the morning, yeah?”

“I’d like that. I’m sorry. I really hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable.”

His laughter is soft but his smile is bright. “You didn’t, I promise. Besides, I like the thought to--us having a baby. But that’s for tomorrow. Right now, we shower and contemplate fries.”

You nod. “Tomorrow. And if we do fries, then I definitely want a McFlurry too.”

“Like you always do,” Calum laughs. “I’ll be right back.”

For a moment you’ve forgotten that you are still quite naked and quite prone to leaking if you stand. “Oh,” you say softly to yourself.

Calum’s laughter echoes behind him as he walks into the bathroom that’s en suite. “Yeah, we did have sex, in case you got distracted by the thought of food,” he calls out.

“Only a little bit. It was still really great sex!”

The water rushes for a moment and Calum returns with the washcloth in hand. “Yeah I can tell.” He’s gentle as he cleans at you and then helps you into the bathroom. “Also, love, it’s been two years. Sex is always great but I know you very well. When it comes to sex or food, you’re food motivated.”

You plop onto the toilet, pouting just a little as Calum turns to the shower. “And you’re very sex motivated. How does that feel, huh?”

He speaks with his back still facing you, “Quit pouting. I am more than happy to feed you at every turn.” With the water at the right temperature, Calum faces and then winks. “Besides, have you seen your ass? Of course I’m sex motivated.”

The next morning, even as the grasps of sleep haven’t fully left you, you know something’s not quite right. There’s no warmth, no weight. When you reach behind you, you find nothing but air and sheets. You roll onto your back and sigh. Where is Calum? You blink open your eyes to find the ceiling all the same. Behind the closed door, you hear something that might be clinking pots. The whir of your fan is constant enough to drown out the sound. But you also catch Calum’s soft murmur. 

Pushing up from the bed isn’t hard, but it takes you a moment to find clothes and when you’re halfway decent, you pad softly to the kitchen. There’s the hum of the oven vent and behind your ears picking apart the hum of the vent from the hum of the fan you catch the sound of Calum’s chuckle. “Duke, if your fur lands in their oatmeal they’re going to be mad at me.”

“No, I won’t,” you return, rounding the corner into the kitchen. 

Calum turns to face you and a smile graces his face taking in the sigh of you dawning in his MAINE t-shirt. Though he definitely wanted it back at some point, he couldn’t deny the sight of you in it. “Morning.”

“Hey to you too.” You close the gap and press a chaste kiss to his lips. Calum hums against your lips and wraps one arm around your hips. The action is punctuated by another kiss initiated by Calum. 

“Oatmeal and bacon sound okay?”

“Since when did we get bacon?”

“I bought it today,” Calum answers, flipping over the three strips. 

You turn just a little in his hold to get a good look at the time. It’s 9. “When did you get up?”

“An hour ago. I had a dream,” Calum offers the sentence like it explains his early rising. The light trace of your fingers lets Calum know your attention is back on him. “It was a good dream,” he continues on. 

“About what?” you ask. 

Satisfied with the placement of the strips, Calum kisses your cheek. “You. Us.”

There’s another bout of silence between the two of you. You take in the slight scruff lining Calum’s cheek. “What about us?” Though you’ve always had to slightly pry to get things out of Calum you don’t take it personal. You know he’s always been a man of few words. It’s much more calculated with Calum. He wants to test the weight of every word on his own tongue before it crosses his lips. 

“It’s about what happened last night.” 

The sentence sounds like it’s just the first thought, the first thing he wants to convey. So you let it linger. Your heart starts to race in the silence, but you can’t push Calum too far too fast. He said it was a good dream, so maybe worry is a thing of the past. But you will always be a worrier. 

“Have you always wanted kids?” The question doesn’t feel loaded. It’s even as it leaves Calum’s lips. 

You nod at the question before verbally responding. “Yeah.”

“Same. Two seems like a good number?”

Your laughter is soft as you stay tucked into Calum’s side. His attention is focused on the pan, but the hand resting on you squeezes just a little at your flesh. “Yeah,” you exhale a little. “Two does sound good. More manageable amongst the parents.”

“What are you not saying, sweetheart?”

And there with one question Calum peeled back everything you had only hoped he hadn’t seen. He had seen it though. “It was a little weird, wasn’t it? That sort of came up out of nowhere.”

You start to unravel yourself from his hold, but Calum’s faster and keeps you in close. When he notices you settling, he says, “It’s not. Sure, maybe it came up quickly. But it’s not weird. When we’re both ready, I’d love to have little ones with you.”

His smile is soft, but genuine as it crosses his face. There’s more he could say. There’s more he wants to say, but it all gets lost in his throat when you laugh a little and mock him and his dreamy tone. He scoffs and goes back to fixing breakfast, leaving you to giggle at your poor imitation of him. 

“You can keep teasing me, but you’d be hot pregnant,” Calum states. 

“I’d be hot pregnant?” The question escapes you around tufts of laughter.

Calum only nods, because not even he can quite articulate the thought. But it sunk into his consciousness and into his dreams and the thought of you round with his child makes his toes curl. When he woke, he curled himself around your sleeping figure for only a few minutes and daydreamed about a bassinet in the corner of the room. In the fantasy, the baby’s room isn’t fully complete. There’s nothing more idyllic than waking up to both his loves within arms reach. 

#calum hood #calum hood fanfic #calum hood fic #calum hood smut #calum hood x reader #calum hood x gender #calum 5sos #h writes #calum hood imagine #5 seconds of summer #5 seconds of summer fanfic #5 seconds of summer fic #5 seconds of summer imagine #5sos #5sos fanfic #5sos fic #5sos imagine #5sos smut

[martini-time]

Didn't need Megan's cheap video to know L definitely tends to manipulate her body appearance cause she apparently wants to look a certain way, there's just way too frequent differences practically every time there's new footage of L, whether it's private or professional... matter of fact, ever noticed that L doesn't just look slimmer around her waist often in some campaigns, but in those campaigns that she's participated in that claim to promote body positivity, not only do her breats suddenly seem a lot bigger and fuller, but she tends to look slightly heavier in general, like her thighs seem suddenly bigger as well as her waist, even her face sometimes looks a little fuller. It's so obvious that many companies just got too lazy to always hire the right sized models cause well why bother anymore when you can make anything happen with photo-manip-softwear nowadays. But yeah, no doubt L also often manips her own photos as well, or she poses a certain way to change her waist and breast size. Another good example, remember that Hollywood party L attended with Cam last September, the green outfit she was wearing? She made the mistake to make a seperate post on her page showing off that outfit at home as well, and if you look closely, you'll notice that in L's personal pictures, her breasts look a little fuller and bigger than they do in the press photos from Getty Images, in those, it almost seems like the outfit has somewhat of a flattening effect on her breasts, but it doesn't appear that way in her private pictures, so I bet she either retouched her personal photos or wore a different bra or even stuffed it a certain way to erase the flattening effect of the outfit. And it's not just her breasts, she's got a bit more of a shape in her waist again too in her own pics compared to the press photos. And just in general, doesn't the outfit look a lot more flattering on her body in her private pics than it does in the press photos? So yeah likely she manipulated her own pictures in some way, I bet cause she loved the outfit itself but she wasn't satisfied how it looked on her, so she fixed it up. And speaking of Cam, that one pic you posted of her posing around in his backyard in that bikini, you ever noticed that her breasts look different in those photos than in those pictures she posted months later where she's in the pool, her breasts almost have an entirely different shape, even though it's the exact same bikini, in the pics out of the water, her breasts are a lot rounder and fuller compared to when she's in the pool. And a few month before she posted those pics where she shows off her new hair cut, when L made that post that Cam left that location fee joke on, she also wears this bikini, and this one, they look also not as big and full as they do in the hair cut ones again, rather more like they did when she's in the pool, but you can't actually explain the different size of her breasts with the bikini being wet in some pictures and dry in the other ones, the shapes are just too different that it can't be explained with that. And these pics were even likely all taken on the same day, she just shared them several months apart, and that might possibly be the reason for the constant change in breast size even if it's the same bikini. Apparently, in the pics where she pretends to just show off her new hair cut, she seems to have had the urge to have a lot larger breasts than when she posted the pictures while in the pool, you can already tell by the way she sits, she poses in a way that she pushes up her breasts to make them seem bigger, and then she probably retouched them later as well. It's like really, especially her breast size varies so much, it's totally inconsistent, it's like it depends on what breast size she's in the mood for when she retouches them, like she probably needs them to always have the perfect shape and size for each photo and outfit, and likely, the more sexier and naughtier the pics are, the more extreme she gets with blowing them up cause she knows it will score her more likes.

Oh yeah I remember that green dress thing. I absolutely agree.

I've been seeing a big difference in all her photos for a long time, I'm surprised that someone else doesn't notice it or turns a blind eye to it, admiring her as a goddess.

Maybe someone needed this video. Lol

But there will still be those who will refute all your words now.

But look.. Jerkers absolutely do not care, they are already drooling. This video is definitely for them

#time to tea #lauren

[pocketfullofnerdybby]

III. Troubled Waters

There is so much going on here! Let's just go ahead and put all the trigger warnings ok?

YourPOV:

You begin to stir awake, as consciousness begins to take over you. You're unsure why but your body aches, your arms are sore and your feet burn as if you were dragged across the entire town and back. You furrow your brows together and squeeze your eyes tighter in an attempt to maintain your sleepy state. That's when you hear the faintest shuffle behind you, "Mother?" you sleepily call out, "please I only need a few more minutes of rest, I had the worst-" your voice trailed off as you turned and slowly opened your eyes and took in your surroundings. Your eyes begin to dart back and forth trying to capture your surroundings, before landing on those beautiful icy blue eyes. 

You opened your mouth to speak, yet the words seemed to falter, questions fired off in your mind yet those eyes, they made you forget damn near everything. You're snapped from your thoughts when he clears his throat and holds out a plate of fruit to you, his tongue slowly parts his lips, following the curve before slipping back into his mouth. You try to fight the urge and fail miserably as your eyes follow his tongue on its slow journey to moisten his lips. You force your eyes back up to his, you hear yourself squeak out, "It...it wasn't-" you can't even muster the strength to finish your thought before the image of your mother and of your poor sick David come rushing to your mind. You feel a sudden burst of anger wash over you as your eyes drop back down to the plate of fruit in his hands.

With one swift movement you swing your hand across your body and send the offending plate flying across the room. You look back at Bucky, "I don't want a damned thing from you, pirate" the last word dripping with hate and sadness. Bucky's expression became one of a smoldering rage, his eyes followed the length of your body causing a shiver to run up your spine. "You keep that shit up and you can fucking starve pet. My kindness has its bounds." His voice low and dangerously toeing the line of arousing, you silently cursed yourself for considering it. This man, this pirate had his men kill your mother and kidnap you.

"I'll starve before I accept anything from you. Maybe I can use the starvation to loose some weight and start a new life in the next town, besides I hear men like their women with less meat on their bones." It was less than a second before he was towering over you. His arms landing on either side of your head, his eyes baring deeply into yours as his beautifully chiseled face hovered a  few inches from yours. You could see his jaw clench as he hissed, "You have no idea of what I like, not yet at least. Boys might like them smaller, but men," he paused taking in the image of you under him smirking before continuing, "real men. We like our women with a fuller figure. And if you say anything like that again I'll make that pretty little mouth of yours regret allowing those nasty words about yourself to escape your lips. As far as starting a new life," he paused as his gaze wandered from your eyes to your lips then back, "welcome to your new life love."

Your body trembled as cold shivers broke out all over your skin, you gave a small gasp as your chest began to heave with fright and a hunger to feel him caress you. Why can your body react to this man this way? He's practically a stranger! You mentally scolded yourself as you nodded in response to him. He pulled away from you painfully slow as his eyes scanned your face, almost as if he was trying to memorize it. As he left the cabin he turned back over his shoulder, "I'll forgive this little outburst this time because you just went through a trying time. I won't be so nice a second time." His voice seemed to soften a bit, "stay in here as long as you need, just don't touch anything. I won't be able to save you from my father's wrath if you do." Without another word he turned and walked out, slamming the door behind him. 

You swung your legs back up onto the "bed" and laid back. You turned and faced the wide windows that covered the back wall of the ship. The sea was so vast it appeared as if it swallowed the horizon. The sun felt warm on your face, yet you felt empty. This wasn't the same sun that shone on you yesterday. No. That sun was healing and inviting. This sun felt harsh and unforgiving. You wanted nothing more than for the ocean to open up and swallow you whole. To relieve you of this waking nightmare. You shoved your face into the pillow and screamed until you could no longer. You allowed the pillow to soak in your tears. You wouldn't give him or anyone else on this blasted ship the satisfaction of seeing you cry. You allowed the tears to flow until nothing but shaky, quiet sobs escaped you, until sleep over took you.

—-Later that night —-

You awoke later with the pain of hunger deep in your belly. As you opened your eyes you could see the black night sky littered with countless stars. You couldn't remember the last time you've seen this many stars in the night sky. You sat up and scooted closer to the window, pressing yourself to the cold glass to try to see more of the beautiful night sky. Your hunger hits you harder and snaps you out of the enchantment of the stars. "Damn I need to eat." you tell yourself as you begin to push off the bed, steading yourself getting used to the way the ship sways softly. You looked around on the floor for remains of the fruit that you tossed aside earlier. "fuck, how was this cleaned up so quickly? Aren't pirate ships supposed to be dirty?" you whisper as you look around not finding anything. 

You begin to take a better look at your 'holding cell'. Your eye catches a small library with beautiful leather bound books. You take a small glance around to make sure no one is spying on you, when you're sure you are alone you step to the books and allow your fingers to gently run across the spines. Your fingers had just enough time to touch the edge of one book before it was being snatched away and the pain caused by the pressure on your wrist began to radiate through you. Your eyes looked to the site of the pain and saw a rough, dirty hand wrapped around your wrist. They continued their journey up to see a man, tall and dirty towering over you with hate radiating from his gaze. 

"Pray tell dear, what you think you're doing?" His grip growing tighter by the second. Your words begin to falter as you begin to try to relieve your aching wrist from his harsh grasp. As you begin to open your mouth to offer a defense, the door swings open and you see Bucky standing in the doorway, with anger overtaking the beautiful features of his face. "Release her right now!" His voice a low rumbling growl seeming to come from deep within him. A smirk crawled across the man's face, "and what are you going to do about it boy?"

Bucky took long, purposeful strides to clearing the area between him and the man, "Father, I will do what I must to protect this woman from you," his voice a harsh raspy whisper as he placed one hand over his father's and the other around your waist wedging himself between you two, "now, LEAVE. HER. BE."  You could feel the heat growing in the deep of your core. Your eyes traveled down to where his hand laid on your waist, then slowly back up to his face. There's no doubting it, this man was gorgeous, but seeing him this angry, this fired up over you, he was heavenly. 

His father finally relinquished his grip on your wrist and moved back causing Bucky to fully place himself between you and him. He slid his hand around your waist, never allowing it to leave its place from your waist, causing your body to erupt in chills and a shiver to run up your spine. His father stood there staring at you with disdain. Before turning to leave he turned to you, "If you touch another one of these precious books, my son won't be able to save you. I'll make sure of it." With that he was out the door and you released a breath you weren't aware you were holding. 

Bucky turned to look at you, "are you hurt?" His eyes scanned over you as he took your hand into his and turned it over, examining your wrist and gently running his fingers over the spot where his father's grasp was. You shook your head in response to his question. Bucky breathed deeply in relief that you were okay. Almost as if without thinking he brought your wrist up to his lips and placed a soft open mouth kiss on your sore wrist. His tongue darting out to softly draw small circles on your skin, before slipping back into his mouth to savor your taste. Immediately your body begins to react to him, your head falls back as your eyes close and you inhale sharply. Your other hand grasps at a bundle of your skirts. You pull your head up and force your eyes to open as you fight the urge to give into this murderer, this oddly kind and sweet killer. 

Bucky brings his gaze up to meet yours and you clear your throat as you pull your hand away. You won't give him the satisfaction of knowing these feelings you unexplicably are beginning to feel for him.  He clears his throat and stands straighter, "We'll be docking in a small port town soon, you can only leave this ship unless you are accompanied by myself or Steve. I'll be on the deck when you are ready." He turned to leave you once again in the solitude of the cabin. You sank to the floor and covered your mouth as the sobs began to escape from your mouth. It was in this moment that you decided that you were going to gain his trust so that you may escape.  

—-Three days later —-

Bucky's crew had docked three days ago in the hellish port town of Isla de Lago. True to his word Bucky allowed you to venture into the town while accompanied by himself or his best friend Steve. They were carful to not allow you out of their sights, and to keep you away from the brothels and rowdy taverns.

Tonight however you had convinced Steve to take you into a tavern under the guise of needing to pick up a bottle of Bucky's favorite rum to surprise him with when you got back to the ship. You begged and pleaded and even caused tears to gather in your eyes as you looked up at him. "Please Steve, I want Bucky to be impressed. I want him to like me and to like that I'm thinking of him." 

After what felt like an eternity of begging Steve finally caved, "Bucky's going to have my hat if he sees you, we better hurry." He smiled down at you and rolled his eyes and smiled as he tilted his head toward the tavern. You let out a small squeal and began to make your way to the bar pulling Steve behind you. 

You walked into the crowded tavern, your eyes trying to adjust to the dim lighting, while scanning over the many faces in the crowd. You begin to push your way through the dirty, smelly drunk men and women to reach the bar counter. The live music seemed to envelop the small establishment. It was so lively and up tempo you couldn't help but feel a small surge of happiness. The tall counter reached just under your bust allowing you to be able to cross your arms and lean against it as you looked around for a bar maid to help you.

Suddenly your eyes stop on a face that looks strikingly familiar, then you realize that the face belongs to none other than Bucky.

As you start to walk over, you stop short as a beautiful blonde barmaid steps up to him, handing him his tankard of ale, proceeding to run her hand up and down his bicep, as he turns his face to follow her hand that is now snaking down his chest and to the helm of his pants. 

You watch as Bucky's eyes scan up her arm to her face, as his tongue darts out to lick his lips before reaching to take a drink from the tankard.

"If you are free tonight, Captain, I'm done in an hour. You can show me how you would plunder me?" She says overly sweet, her hand never leaving Bucky's body. 

Before Bucky can say anything, his gaze casts over to meet yours, as your cheeks flush with heat as you turn and stalk out of the tavern, tears threatening to fall.

You don't see Bucky abruptly get up from his seat pushing the barmaid aside in his haste. You couldn't focus on him right now, all of your attention was focused on getting to the exit before your tears could make their escape. As you made your way to the door you looked around for Steve to take you back to the ship, "no this is your chance to escape. Forget Steve, forget-" your thoughts were cut off by your body being jerked backwards right as your hand was reaching for the knob. You're quickly whipped around and forced to look deep into the icy blue eyes that were staring deep into yours. 

Your body kicked into fight or flight as he gripped your arms and attempted to anchor you in place, the adrenaline causing your hearing to seem blurred as he repeated your name in an attempt to get your attention. You mustered all the strength you could and broke one arm free. You could feel the sting on your hand before you could see the shock on Bucky's face and his hand quickly came up to the place on his cheek where you had struck him. 

In his disbelief he released his grip on you and stumbled backwards a couple steps. It wasn't much but it was enough to allow you to make your way out the door and crash directly into Charles "Black Beard Charlie" Barnes. He pushed you off him, yet held firmly onto your arm. He turned and looked to Bucky, his face darkened with disgust. Shoving you towards his son his words slurring yet still strong and commanding, "get her to the ship now. We're leaving." 

Bucky dropped his head and took your hand, enlacing his fingers with yours. You quickly snatched your hand away causing Bucky to grab your arm just as his father had, and he began guiding you on the long walk back to the ship.

As Bucky strode towards the ship, your feet falter causing you to try and keep up. Pissed off and embarrassed, Bucky stops, turning around and throws you over his shoulder, never breaking his stride to the ship the rest of the way.

You began to beat on his back in hopes that he will let you go. The only sign of acknowledgment that you receive from Bucky is a stinging crack on the ass as his hand leaves a burning imprint on your skin. You can already tell it will leave a mark. Cursing yourself for changing into the thin fabric skirt that Bucky had given you after taking you onto his ship because he could see you overheating with the full skirt you had been wearing.

"Let's just call that payback for the slap you gave me pet. Next time I won't be so gentle with it!" He says, his tone harsh and dark.

You endured the rest of the way back to the ship where he marched right up into the cabin and threw you onto the bed. "Don't move, and don't TOUCH anything!" He growls slamming the cabin door.

With the click of the lock, you throw yourself onto the pillows and cry yourself to sleep.

[pxnk-velvet]

.・ ✧。.・゜✧・.・✧・゜・.・ ✧。.・゜✧・.

𝑁𝑜𝑟𝑚𝑎𝑙 𝑃ℎ𝑦𝑠𝑖𝑐𝑎𝑙 𝐹𝑒𝑎𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑒𝑠

✧ summary :: some physical features that are usually considered insecurities I think Karasuno has

✧ warnings :: mention of physical features, body image, and insecurity.

✧ a/n :: if you have any of the features mentioned, just know you are absolutely beautiful and amazing just the way you are and never forget that!!! btw my taglist is open and reblogs are always appreciated 😁

.・ ✧。.・゜✧・.・✧・゜・.・ ✧。.・゜✧・.

☾ daichi and asahi definitely have stretch marks, you can���t tell me other wise. daichi more so around his shoulders, bicep/chest area, and midsection; asahi has them near his lower back (the horizontal kind from growing tall) and around his thighs and back of his knees/calves.

☾ asahi has a lot of body hair, some on his arms and back, chest, and he’s even got a little happy trail (pls this? my knees are weak 🖐🏼😳) he also has really broad shoulders and big hands which tend to get clammy a lot. plus I think he has fuller lips and really pretty long eye lashes, something he’s not the biggest fan of.

☾ daichi isn’t this crazy built, all abs and muscle athlete, he’s got some fluff to his stomach and thighs which he tends to bug himself about sometimes. I also think he has a couple acne scars along his cheeks and he could grow a bread if he wanted but chooses not to.

☾ I feel like suga doesn’t have perfectly straight teeth, like he has a little gap between his front teeth or his bottom teeth overlap with each other a bit. and his skin is a bit on the dryer side, so he needs to use moisturizer or else it’ll start to flake a bit.

☾ tanaka keeps his hair short because he’s got a cowlick, so when his hair grows a little too long, the hair in that section sticks out in a way he doesn’t like, but it’s actually really cute. he also has really nicely shaped and thick eyebrows which saeko helps maintain.

☾ noya has crooked pinkies, the kind that when you stick your hands out flat, they curve in towards the ring finger, I also feel like he’s ambidextrous, but prefers using his right hand. and he’s also covered in little bumps, cuts, and bruises which just appear out of nowhere, except for the ones he gets from volleyball.

☾ yamaguchi and ennoshita have bumps in the bridges of their noses, and the tip of yamaguchi’s nose is also a little upturned.

☾ it’s pretty commonly said that yamaguchi is covered in freckles but I don’t think so. he only has them along the bridge of his nose and maybeeee a light sprinkling along his shoulders that’s really only visible in the summer.

☾ I also feel like ennoshita is also on the hairier side, definitely his arms and legs, as well as a small dusting along his chest which he shaves often. and he’s got a tiny scar on his bottom lip.

☾ tsukishima has a slight curve to his spine and you can sometimes see his spine poke out when he bends over, along with cute little back dimples. he’s obviously on the thinner side and his appetite isn’t the biggest, so I think he’s got a really fast metabolism and it’ll take some effort if he ever wanted to bulk up.

☾ kageyama has bacne scars along his shoulders and back, I also feel like he has wide feet and a low arch to them. he’s also got acne along his forehead and hairline because of his bangs that sit in his face all the time. and his knees and elbows tend to get ashy when it’s cold out.

☾ hinata doesn’t like how skinny his arms are and he only has one dimple on his right cheek, as well as a prominent Cupid’s bow. I also think he tends to break out along his nose and his T-zone is a little oily. plus his ears stick out in a really cute way.

☾ it’s mentioned kiyoko has scars on her legs from doing hurdles in the past, hence why she wears long stockings. but I also think her thighs are bigger and so that’s another reason why she wears long stockings, she doesn’t like the way short ones dig into her skin and it overflows a bit at the top. plus her hips are on the smaller side so she has hips dips.

☾ yachi isn’t as shapely as she would like to be and is a bit insecure about her chest size. so she might need a bit of reassurance every now and then, something kiyoko is more than happy to give advice on. plus she’s got shorter eyes lashes that are blonde like her hair, so she’ll sometimes put on mascara. I also think her lips are more on the thinner side.

.・ ✧。.・゜✧・.・✧・゜・.・ ✧。.・゜✧・.

tags: @elektrosonix || @rarr-com1452z || @suga-tofu

.・ ✧。.・゜✧・.・✧・゜・.・ ✧。.・゜✧・.

#haikyuu!! #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu headcanons #daichi sawamura #asahi azumane #sugawara koushi #tanaka ryunosuke #nishinoya yuu #ennoshita chikara #yamaguchi tadashi #tsukishima kei #kageyama tobio #hinata shoyo #kiyoko shimizu #yachi hitoka #haikyuu fluff

[buckyownsmylife]

Memory - Bucky Barnes smut

The one where Bucky's a vampire but still manages to develop a breeding kink

Warnings: smut, breeding kink, vampire!AU, creampie, daddy kink, mention of blood because of biting

A/N: this is for my darling cousin @whisperlullaby​‘s challenge, and also my own! Like I explained here, I’m going to try to fill every single AU I listed with the characters I picked for the challenge, and since the deadline if May 27, these fics will be posted randomly, as I finish them, instead of on Thursdays, which are my usual one-shot posting days. I hope you guys will enjoy this silly idea of a vampire with a breeding kink 💛 I had a blast writing it! Unbeta’ed because I almost died this week and cannot be bothered to stare at my writing for any longer.

Bucky’s P.O.V.

“Okay, let’s play truth or dare!” I groaned as silently as possible at the proposition. One of the downsides of dating someone in college was having to deal with the immaturity of their friends, especially when I was unable to escape yet another invitation for a weekend getaway.

There were only so many encounters a man could refuse before mysterious became annoying, and I knew I was toeing the line, even if my girlfriend never complained.

She understood just how irritating these gatherings could be to me. It would have been easy to imagine if there was a realistic age gap between us, but considering the centuries that separated our birth dates, it was laughable that anyone would entertain the idea of me with a bunch of young adults who only wanted to get laid, smoke some weed and drink their asses off.

Of course, her friends didn’t know my true age, so they only thought I was a little bit irked by their behavior. Y/N knew the truth, and so evidently she tried to get me out of it, but I resisted.

I wanted her to take part in the normal experiences people her age were having. There was already so much that she was missing out on just by being with me - and I wasn’t even referring to the blood that she granted me every night.

I’d accepted to be there with her that evening. I was going to immerse myself in the full experience, if only to learn a bit more about her and those she surrounded herself with.

Her best friend let out a little excited yell when she noticed that we were joining the circle and I forced myself to smile at her. “Alright, let’s do this.” One of the male friends rubbed his hands before reaching for the bottle, making it spin as I frowned. I thought that was a different game, but apparently I was mistaken.

It landed on a girl I had yet to get acquainted with, and so I disconnected myself from the conversation as I watched my beloved laugh and have fun with her friends. It made me feel warm. It made me grateful I had decided to join.

A few more rounds went by without anything of essence actually happening. I was about to excuse myself when the bottle surprisingly stopped while pointing at Y/N.

She gasped as she stared at the man who was responsible for deciding her fate, and I already knew I wouldn’t like what was coming next. But she was smart, so she avoided the dare that would undoubtedly enrage me, leaving her to answer a question that I also would have preferred not to hear.

“So… Y/N…” He began, taking far too much pleasure at the situation, and by the way she rolled her eyes, I knew she was thinking the same.

“Yes, Simon.” He opened his mouth to say something, but instinctively looked my way. I was trying my best not to let any emotion slip through the cracks of my perfectly constructed mask, but whatever it was that he saw seemed to make him change his mind.

He closed his mouth and frowned, for a second deep in thought, before he sighed and finally voiced his question. “Just tell us one of your kinks.”

It sounded like he was trying to get this over with, and although Y/N seemed just as confused, she cleared her throat and gave him an answer.

“Oh, I don’t know… I guess.. Creampie?” Little giggles and comments rose around the circle, but nothing really stuck out and they were quick to motion her to spin the bottle so another person could have a turn.

It was a different reaction that I was expecting, especially considering what everyone did for much tamer answers, but the explanation for the lukewarm crowd was made clear by a groaned comment from Simon to the man beside him.

“This is no fun now that she isn’t single.” A small giggle resonated by my side, and I turned in the direction it came from to find my girlfriend trying to suppress her amusement behind her palm.

“Something funny, little one?” I knew they’d take notice of the pet name, but I honestly couldn’t be bothered to even pretend to care, and the fact that she smiled openly up at me showed me that she didn’t, either.

“Not at all.” She pulled me closer to deposit a quick peck on my lips and I was sure if my heart was still beating, it would have fluttered at the way she looked at me. “Thanks for coming tonight.”

“Of course.” Thankfully, the game didn’t last much longer - for us, at least. Somehow, the bottle didn’t land on me once, and Y/N started to yawn, her head resting against my shoulder after the third consecutive “Who would you rather bang?” question.

“I think we’re gonna leave for the night,” she excused us even though I knew she wasn’t really sleepy. She really could be an excellent actress when she wanted to.

We walked up the stairs to where the bedrooms were located, quickly getting in what had been assigned as ours for the weekend. She smiled softly at me as she reached for her backpack, no doubt looking for the one shirt of mine she always slept in, but I had a few things in my mind I wanted to ask her about.

“Why do you like creampies to much?” The words spilled out at me so unusually, considering the silence in the room, it didn’t surprise me that it took her a while to answer. When she did though, I was surprised to find her biting her lip, a look between amused and horny in her eyes when she approached me.

“Dunno.” She shrugged, taking my hands in her and playing with my fingers. I knew it was a way to avoid my intense gaze. “Guess I have a bit of a breeding kink, actually. It just felt too personal to share with those guys.”

The answer took me by surprise as I stared down at her, blinking a couple of times as I made sure to really process what she had said.

“A breeding kink?” I confirmed, and she rolled her eyes in that way I knew she did when she was embarrassed but trying to play it off as annoyed.

“Yeah, you know.” She pulled away from me to sit on the bed, legs dangling off of it almost like a child. “I like the idea of being bred. Even though I’m in no way ready to become a mother,” she added in a serious tone, making sure I understood what she meant.

But I didn’t. I didn’t and I guess it was clear in my face, because she quirked an eyebrow and jumped out of the bed, coming to stand before me once more.

“Why is this so weird to you?” She inquired, head tilted in amusement. “You’re over a century old, I’m sure your expectations regarding sexual relationships were related to impregnation for most of your life.”

And I mean… she wasn’t wrong. But I hadn’t thought about that for so long, I guess it didn’t occur to me that there was an actual term for it these days.

“There’s no way you don’t have a breeding kink.” The affirmation sounded almost like a dare, so my instinct was to fight it, wrap my arms around her torso so I’d keep her close to me, but deny it.

“You know I can’t ‘breed’ anyone anymore, darling.” But she wasn’t giving up. Her fingers softly traced my jawline, eyes sparkling with a dangerous glint as she countered, “Doesn’t mean you can’t like the idea of it.”

Even though I didn’t need the oxygen, I inhaled sharply, suddenly fascinated by her every movement, the way she gently unwrapped herself from my arms to slowly unbutton her simple dress, the one she made it look like a fucking gown.

“Think about it, Buck…” Every inch of skin that became exposed to my eyes still had my mouth watering, desperate to taste her all over.

“Wouldn’t you want to see me round with your child?” The question provoked my imagination, playing with her features as I thought about what she proposed. Her breasts fuller, stomach protuberant, and maybe a little feet rubbing against the skin, something I could kiss.

“See me carry your genes, continue your lineage… Wouldn’t you want that?” Her innocent eyes spelled trouble when she stood before me again, close enough to touch.

And I couldn’t deny that the idea did something to my heart - even though it didn’t beat anymore. Most undeniably, it definitely did something to my cock, which now strained against my pants, the arousal that the image of her impregnated by me provoked bursting as I looked at the creature that I loved in wonder and fascination.

“Are you trying to tempt me, doll?” She bit on her lower lip to stop herself from giggling before I pulled it away from her teeth when I took her in my arms again, naked breasts rubbing against my shirt.

“Is it working?” She breathed out, eyes connected to mine while she tried to gather my feelings about her attempt. I pressed her body closer, making sure she’d feel the hardness in my pants before I even voiced it.

“Very well,” I whispered in her ear, enjoying the way my cold breath awakened goosebumps all over her warm skin. She never complained about the difference in temperature, something that I was profoundly grateful for, since I loved to feel her hot blood pumping underneath my fingertips whenever I trailed my digits over her flesh.

“So tell me,” she pressed, still going for seductive even though she sounded slightly out of breath, her desire evident in the way her pupils had dilated. “Would you like to breed me, James?”

A shiver went down my spine at the question and I closed my eyes for just one second, just to relish in this sensation before I opened them to confess, “You have no idea how much I’d like that.”

My hand easily spread her lower lips, middle finger running between them to test her wetness and finding her soaked, like she always seemed to be for me. The knowledge had me smiling as I lifted my hand to taste her before making quick work of my belt, observing her slowly walking backwards towards the bed as I followed, almost like there was a thread connecting us, keeping us close.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he moaned against my ear as he buried himself inside of me and I clutched at his shoulders, desperate to feel every part of him connected to every part of me.

Only he could get me this way. Chest heaving, mouth open just from the simple act of feeling him stretching me open. It didn’t matter how many times he took me, it still burned the same - and I loved it.

“Tell me, doll,” he panted, hypnotizing eyes connected to mine, unwilling to let my gaze escape his hold. “Tell me you’d want to have my child. You’d look so beautiful with your body changing because of me, wouldn’t you want that?”

I groaned, throwing my head back as James fucked me senseless, his cock ramming against my sweet spot over and over again. He knew no mercy, I knew that. I just never anticipated to have such an overwhelming reaction to a silly little kink I never even thought I’d ever get to explore.

“Answer me, little one.” His fangs came into play then, piercing around the nipple that he sucked, galvanizing me into actually responding, “I would, I would, daddy,” while pulling on his hair without even realizing.

He let go of my breasts to look at me with dark eyes - not because he had come in contact with my blood, oh no. It was clear that this was the reaction to the name that escaped me so easily, waving its way into him until it broke the last bit of his control and left him completely undone, only determined to fuck me.

I watched him lick his lips before he ordered, “tell daddy you want his cum inside of you.” Hearing him acknowledge this other secret kink, refer to himself as it had me delirious, unable to formulate any words to obey him, so I opted to hide my face in the crook of his neck, hoping the feeling of my burning cheeks would satiate him.

What a mistake.

“Oh, so now you’re shy?” He mocked, rubbing his jaw against my cheek as I whined against him. “Want daddy’s cum so much but can’t be a good girl and beg for it?”

I came with a long drawn-out gasp right then, my body twitching underneath his as his cock dragged along my walls once, twice, a third time until it spilled his cum inside of my channel. The act was so hot to me that it had me pulling on his hair, whispers of “I love you, I love you,” tumbling out of my lips.

He silenced me with a kiss, still managing to keep on thrusting until I had to push him away because of my sensitivity.

“Spread your legs for me, little one…” He ordered, brushing his tongue over his lower lip in contemplation. “Let me see the mess I left there.”

I was still a bit nervous about the whole ordeal now that the wave of horniness had left me, but I did eventually spread my legs for him, whimpering as he bit down on his own lip at the sight of his spent dripping from my abused pussy.

“Oh, you look so good like that, darling.” I could barely contain my giddiness as he laid down by my side and pulled me to rest on his chest, pressing a kiss to my temple while he caressed my arm. “But one question remains unanswered.” To my almost sleepy hum, he proceeded, “Why do you like the idea of breeding so much?”

That got me thinking, wiping the tiredness off of my muscles like a bucket of cold water. It felt weird to admit it, but at the same time, I wanted nothing more than to bare my soul to the man I loved, to have him aware of every little thing about me…

So I admitted, “I like the idea of being yours… in this very scary, slightly territorial way.” At his silence, I giggled, hiding my face on his chest as I waited for his response.

“But you are mine,” he reminded me, and even as I rolled my eyes, a silly smile painted my lips, loving that he felt like he needed to tell me that.

“I know I am,” I recognized. “It’s just another way I’d like to be claimed by you. Besides, I can just imagine how well you’d take care of me…”

Silence filled the room as we both got lost in the images of what could never be. Me with a fully-grown belly, walking like a penguin as he held up tiny onesies that looked ridiculous in his huge hands.

My heart ached for what could never be, surely, but I couldn’t really grieve a future I’d never have while I was so happy with the man who wanted to give me one.

“I’ll always take care of you.” He kissed the back of my hand, and even though he knew it wasn’t exactly what I meant, it was just enough. “I’m sorry that I can’t ever give you children.”

The guilt in his tone was almost palpable, and I wanted to do anything in my power to make it disappear. This wasn’t what I intended when I shared my sexual fantasies with him. They were just that - fantasies. I wouldn’t trade my reality for any alternative version the universe could offer me.

“It’s alright, babe,” I assured him, depositing a kiss on his chest, right where his heart would be beating for me if it could. “I think the way you want to claim me is just as territorial… and much more final.”

Bucky held me close, breathing me in - even if he didn’t need to do that to survive - before he asked me the last doubt that still hovered in his mind.

“Aren’t you scared?” And as I laid there in his embrace, feeling loved and cared for, I knew the only acceptable answer that I could give him was, “It’ll be worth it.”

#whispers700challenge #my 2k challenge #my fics #bucky barnes smut #smut #vampire au #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes reader #bucky barnes reader insert #bucky barnes reader inserts #bucky barnes fanfiction

[fishstyx]

curious.

featuring. mahito x fem!reader

wc. 1.5k

genre. smut, dark/taboo

tw. 18+ nsfw, noncon, stalking, somnophilia, alcohol, thigh fucking, penetration, size kink, stomach bulge

synopsis. there’s just one thing mahito has yet to learn about human anatomy... and when you hobble out of a bar at daybreak, you’re about as good as volunteering your body.

What a poor, lost little thing you are, trudging through the back alleyways of Tokyo with little to go on under the twinkling twilight. You stumble around in the darkness as if trying to outrun the first rays of sunlight, fingers fumbling to find purchase on the sides of buildings unfamiliar to you. You must’ve been drinking all night long to require wall support to keep you upright now, hiccuping as you drag your hands along the concrete. Truly the lowest of the low, a runt in a world teeming with lesser beings. Human swine would do well to know their limits, but apparently you don’t.

And what an easy target you make; a little too easy, even. You wouldn’t have a clue what was happening if Mahito cornered you now, idle transfiguration descending upon you with a single touch of the hand. 

But what a waste that would be, disfiguring a remarkable specimen like you, so utterly out of it that you can’t even tell that he’s right behind you—so dangerously close that he’s practically breathing down your neck as you make your way home.

Sure, Mahito has his pick of the city’s stragglers at all times of the day, but what suddenly draws him to you lies in how disheveled you look, the little bit of makeup you have on smeared across your face, that low cut shirt of yours riding even lower than it was made to.

Not to mention that he’s absolutely dying to get more acquainted with human “anatomy”—but he hates how his victims squirm and squeal when he takes his time, as if they have any chance of actually escaping him. It’s an insult, really, so he figures he’ll go after someone on the more... susceptible side. Someone who’s not only wandering around alone, but also on the brink of collapse, unable to call for help. Someone who makes no attempt to fight back, someone who will let him have his way with them, someone who doesn’t mind the intrusion simply because there is no alternative.

Someone exactly like you.

You’re making this way too simple, not a single look behind you as you stagger your way home. You even have the courtesy to leave the front door of your house ajar, the stupid little thing that you are, not an ounce of energy left to spare as you pass out into the bed.

He’s on top of you immediately, ripping your clothes off to ogle their contained contents. So this is the female body, he thinks, half mesmerized, half disgusted by the way your taut tits spill out from underneath your already revealing shirt. He studies every inch of your exposed skin carefully before rolling your sensitive nubs between his fingers, finding that they stiffen on command. Even when you’re out cold you react to his touch; he was right not to kill you immediately. 

His personal playground, exactly the way he wanted it.

Proportions aside, he finds that there are few differences between his male body and your own. But there’s something that piqued his interest at a movie showing once and he wants it to try for himself today. He palms at his erection, intrigued by his natural reaction to the sight of you all sprawled out. Is there really something so special about it? He can’t say he sees the appeal, but apparently his body can, his bulge pressing harder against the cloth the longer he looks at you.

His pants come undone when he feels his damp excitement through the fabric, glint of his precum illuminated by the kiss of the rising sun, satisfying heaviness of his dick bared to the ticklish air. He marvels at the way his hand fits perfectly around his length, fisting it as he stares at the rise and fall of your chest. This is the part that he didn’t get to see on screen, the part where he ruts against your lower half with his own.

It’s not like he knows what he’s doing yet, bucking his hips into the first thing he can fit his dick into: the space between your thighs. Mahito squeezes them together and slips his shaft between the plushy flesh, reveling in the chills that run up his stomach. It’s a nice visual, the way his cock disappears for a moment before resurfacing atop of your barren legs, and an even nicer sensation. But it doesn’t quite feel half as good as he thought it would be. His mind races with the flickering images of o-shaped mouths and curled up fingers. Humans are so… dramatic, he thinks to himself, pulling his meat out of the cushy canal of his creation.

But then his eyes wander to your silken panties, the one place he hasn’t ventured yet; how annoying that humans wear more clothes under their clothes. He laughs to himself when he pushes them aside to reveal a wet, pulsating mound. Now that’s more like it. A finger inches inside you, followed by another, as he tries to determine if it’s a good fit or not.

Well, he won’t know until he tries.

Burying himself inside your leaking cunt, he gasps at the way you hug him flawlessly. It’s warmer, so much warmer than your thighs, and suddenly it feels like he’s alive for the first time in his life. Your breathing changes as he starts to move, pushing your ragdoll figure into the mattress. Tingly pleasure envelops him entirely when little whimpers and moans begin to tumble from your lips.

Mahito bends over to meet your mouth, taste of hard liquor encircling his tongue as he forces it inside, exploring your wetness in its entirety. You share a soft groan when he adjusts his angle, hilt of his cock pushing against a spot so spongy and so textured that his sensitive head shivers in pleasure.

Fistfuls of flesh gathered in his hands, he continues to move by instinct, chasing after the milky cream that foams around the base of his cock. The slip and slide motion of each and every stroke seems to register even while you sleep, your hips rocking ever so slightly into his own, mouth moving open and shut but never quite overflowing with distinguishable words.

The lewd noises of your dripping pussy fill the room, second only to the clapping of skin on skin as his tender balls pound against you. Reckless abandon takes over and the snapping movement is driven by so much force that you begin to stir, eyes twitching.

But you’re not awake yet—responsive, but otherwise subdued. He knows because the things that spill from your lips next can only come from a person who can’t even tell that they’re being raped.

“It feels… so…” you whisper, and he pauses for a moment to listen to what you have to say.

“Feels so… full…”

He throbs at the words, instantly feeling himself grow harder, deciding that it’s time to try out one of his little “experiments.”

“Feels full, huh?” he says into the curve of your neck, crooked smile dancing on his lips. “Good thing I can make you feel even fuller.”

Reshaping himself is almost second nature at this point. Mahito stretches you out with the deft fattening of his cock, your walls drawing taut around him in turn. Snug, you become impossibly snug around him as you throw your head back, convulsing from the pressure. It’s an inhuman size, so monstrous that when he pistons his pelvis forward, he finds it substantially harder to bottom out.

The clear outline of his cock stares him in the face now, a delicious belly bulge shifting up and down with every slam. You struggle to catch your breath, the stimulation forcing you to release your hot, sticky fluids. Entire body shaking, you keen your satisfaction, stilling only when his thrusts run shallow.

A jittery feeling takes the human curse over, the buildup of all the sweet sensations bubbling over and bursting from his fully stimulated cockhead. He pulls it out to get a better look and ends up squirting all over you, shooting his seed onto your thighs and teats. How delightful, he thinks to himself, overjoyed by how it glistens in the full heat of the sun. The perfect present for you to wake up to.

It’s quiet now, only a soft pant—yours—audible in the spring of day. 

He ponders his options. You could take hours to come to your senses. But as much as he’d love to take off now, to leave you in total confusion and bewilderment, his desire to see the absolute horror cross your face as you take in the spatters of dried-up cum is even stronger. And eventually, he gets just that.

You don’t disappoint, bleary eyes fluttering open in your half-conscious state, locking with the curse crouched beside you, then darting wildly from the mess he’s made to the stitches on his face. How fortunate, or rather unfortunate; you were born with enough latent talent to be able to perceive him. You’d scream, but he’s already ahead of you, covering your mouth before you can produce a single squeal.

“Morning, dollface.” Tears prickle your eyes as you look on in fright, too afraid to move a muscle.

“I had a lot of fun in bed, didn’t you?”

fishstyx © 2021 ✸ all content and their rights belong to me. do not repost, reproduce, or modify anywhere.

#jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #mahito smut #mahito x reader #tw. dark. #tw. noncon. #tw. stalking. #tw. somnophilia. #tw. influence. #tw. penetration. #tw. size. #🍣.food #fishstyx.jjk

[parkerlyn]

touching / 37 / oisein 👀

cannot wait for more chaos & softness 🥰

(remember kids, don't fall for peer pressure and terrible friends like Oisein adfsakljl) Thank you for the asks! ❤️

putting their head on the other's chest | holding hands while jumping down from somewhere together

You try to remember how the conversation went, considering where you've ended up. How did you finally agree? Did you actually finally agree? Did you get marionetted? Were you going to have to find a way to quietly murder Oisein?

They had come to you, all teeth in a terrible grin and splotchy, glowing markings flickering with excitement.

"Absolutely not."

"Please please please please-"

"Oisein, I'm not jumping down the Saor waterfall!"

They bring their hands inward like a prayer and give their best attempt at a pout and pitiful eyes. The whole charade looks much less innocent as their long, sharp nails clack together, though. "But the pool is fuller from the recent rains and Heleen won't go without Mav and Mav won't go unless I do and I need moral support. And by moral support I mean you jumping with me."

"The base is right at the edge of the hydro pillars - what if someone from Saor is out there?!"

"We'll wear our glamours!! I was already planning on it, not trying to snap one of these," they say with a nonchalant wave to an antler. "Any mortalis will just think we're a bunch of reckless assholes."

"You ARE being a reckless asshole!"

"Oh it's not even that high, and Heleen and Mav are both elementalists-"

The rest of the conversation blurs out among the dark branches above the Sanctum, and the odd image of Oisein happily skipping away.

Which would explain your current predicament.

The raucous water tumbling over the cliff's edge sprays onto your bare legs and crossed arms, icy pinpricks kissing at your elbow and shins. Thunderous sounds echo back up to the top of the cavern and into the canyon beyond where the stone rings of Saor glint like silver bracelets, delicately detailed with the reflection of thousands of windows.

More whooping and yelling comes from below - far, far below - as what looks to be a pale mortalis woman with coiling ginger hair laughs on the bank. She leans forward, lifting herself from a grassy patch, to throw a scoop of darkened water at a thin person lounging waist deep at the water's edge, the wet sheen of their deep brown skin reflecting moonlight into your eyes. Without their sheevra forms, an unconscious part of you wants to stay out of their sight. But you will yourself to remember the prickly desert flowers of Heleen's markings as she lays back down again, and the winding orchids that normally curl over Mav's shoulders as they blow raspberries in the woman's direction.

Oisein says something next to you, but when you don't respond over the rushing water, they raise their voice.

"If you kill me now, they'll know it was you! So-"

"What?"

Oisein smiles widely next to you as you turn, their disguise more familiar. Their honeyed waves of hair, currently pulled back into a tight bun, provide some comfort alongside the earthy freckles speckling their tanned skin.

Or well, it would, if they weren't the reason you were in this mess in the first place.

Remembering that, you snap your head forward again with a huff.

They laugh - nervously, you notice - and step forward towards the edge of the stone precipice, peering down below. Their bare toes curl into the rock, shoulders rising as they hold a breath. "Okay!" they almost shout over the echoing noise. "It's a little further up than I thought it was. But that's why we're doing this together, right?" The smile turns apologetic while their eyes stay fixated on the drop, but any sympathy you have has already been washed away with the falls, plummeting into the pool below.

You glare at them again, though their edges are blurred and softened by the mist surrounding them, a faint glow diffusing from the stars in the background and the weak light of their markings.

Despite your harshly set face, they turn back to you and pause, before slowly hold out their hand. Curled fingers hesitate for a moment and then unfurl, showing you their empty palm.

You press your lips into as thin of a line as you can possibly muster, determined to glare them off the edge of the waterfall without taking you down with them.

"Can't do this without you," you read from their lips more than hear, their chin lowering but eyes still held your face. The outstretched hand still waits, though you notice a fearful shiver run from their wrist and up towards their collar.

What feels like an eternity passes before you finally give a heavy sigh and uncross your arms, stepping towards Oisein. You slap your hand into theirs, the base of your thumb fitting squarely into their palm, and they wrap their fingers tightly around your hand as you both turn outward to the open air.

The moments begin to blur like the conversation that led you here. A swallow and a flare of their nostrils. Your fingers gripping tensely against their knuckles. One more furtive look to each other and an anxious song kindling in the magic leaking out from the tense leanhaun.

And suddenly, you're flying.

A burst of air pushes you clear of the cliff as you jump, a bright chord that lifts you safely away. The wind whips and streams over your arms as your stomach lurches up into your ribs, your legs cycling through the air. Sound boils and bursts through your throat in tandem with an ecstatic screech from Oisein, muted by the roar of wind and water.

Even as you hurtle nearer to the waterfall's base, the blackened pool quickly approaching, your hands still remain tightly clasped together.

And then, you're floating. Stomach rolling downward against a pillow of swirling wind, water lapping up towards your ankles, twisting upward in lazy tendrils from the surface of the pool. You look down the last dozen feet to see Mav's hands glowing in the water, Heleen's poised expertly in the air above her face. They grin just as you look to Oisein, who laughs, loud and exuberant, water droplets floating near the loose strands of hair that glide gently around their ears.

You catch a sneaky smirk exchanged between the other two sheevra before they release their magic, dropping you the last few feet to plunge into the water.

Chilled bubbles race over your body as you break the surface, taking a quick breath and slamming your eyes shut. The water rushes in around you, weaving over your neck and surrounding you in a bracing cocoon. Muffled murmuring sounds somewhere in the distance (where the waterfall ends?) and you take a chance to open your eyes against the current. Above you the water glitters darkly, scattering the image of the night sky and and reflecting a murky outline of your body back to you.

The heat in your hand finally registers again, the only source of warmth bursting over your fingers as Oisein pulls upward, more bubbles flowing over their windmilling arm and where their feet kick below. It only takes a few seconds more to feel the tug at your shoulder, before you emerge together in a tangle of limbs and gulp in a desperate breath.

While they move backwards and help pull you from the water, Oisein is already berating Mav and Heleen, who snort and giggle together a few feet away. But despite the chiding, there’s a wide grin on their face as they fall back onto their elbows and pull you up towards them, repeating quiet questions of "You okay? You alright?" You nod, cough once, and laugh despite yourself, arms wobbly from the adrenaline and knees digging into the dirt between Oisein’s legs. As more of your senses return, you notice an unwelcome lack of warmth in your palm, but immediately brush that thought away.

The blonde sheevra goes silent eventually, breathing deeply as the wet, ivory cloth of their shirt clings tightly to their chest. They lay their head back against the grass and blink their eyes, splaying their arms out wide.

Without thinking, you collapse where your arms have taken you, thumping your soaked head face first against their chest and elbows framing their hips. There’s a small 'oof' and a laugh that shakes your head when you make contact, before your head bobs with their even breathing.

A chill comes near your body, but the worst of it is held at bay as Oisein’s hands move down to your shoulders, giving them a reassuring squeeze. When you pry your head back up there’s a smile - gentler than usual - alighting their lips. Their hands stay, rubbing warmth into your muscles and eventually resting along your upper arms.

You'd thought their breathing had settled, but you can’t help but notice the quickening pace of their heart and the way they still themself, trying to restrict the rise and fall of their lungs. They swallow, much like they did before you leaped, and you feel their legs tense against yours. Infinite seconds pass while Oisein's lips barely part, neither of you wanting to break the moment.

Which Mav happily does, whistling shrilly at your side.

Oisein scoffs and removes one of their hands to flip them off while carefully putting a little more space between your bodies, shifting awkwardly up the grassy hill. Disappointment drops rudely in your gut while they shiver noticeably again, the sudden absence of your body against theirs bringing back the full effects of the autumn night.

But in the next instant, their head turns to the side, bangs flopping unceremoniously over one of their vibrant eyes before a mischievous look twists their face.

“Wanna go again?”

#drabbles #oisein #interactive fiction #interactive novel #romance #the nameless #tnif #this got wildly out of control lmao sorry #mostly just silly descriptions and self indulgence ajdkflsaj

[lorenzobane]

Mila's Dad (Has got me Down Bad)

(On AO3 Here)

A/N: This fic depicts a minor with a crush on an adult. Nothing happens and the adult is fully unaware that it is happening the entire time but I know that this content can be triggering. This is just meant to depict the kind of puppy crush teenagers sometimes get on adults (I, for one, was madly in love with my English teacher).

Maresh Zosgon had never actually met her new friend Mila's human father. It wasn't on purpose or any type of avoidance. They had become such fast friends, and it just so happened that he was at work when she had come by their house, a beautiful and well-maintained property in the Foreign Dignitary's district of Cardassia City. Apparently, he is a notorious workaholic. 

She's seen pictures, of course. Proudly displayed on their living-room wall was an image of Mila's parent's wedding. An unusual ornament in a Cardassian household but very typical in human ones- or so Mila tells her while blushing slightly. It shows Mila's parents dressed in what she has been told are traditional wedding garments for a region of Earth known as "Egypt." They're even kissing in it, looping over and over again to cheers of a group of people. 

It is also true that Mila’s parent’s romance was somewhat famous. There were at least three holomovies in the last ten years that borrowed the story of an exile falling in love with an alien (usually with a profession like an architect) and running off into a whirlwind romance before settling down and serving the state admirably. 

Maresh can't help but blush even thinking of it. 

Still- she was curious, so when Mila asked, "do you want to stay for dinner?" She responded with a resounding, "yes." 

She and Mila are playing a game of kotra when the door opens. 

"Family!" a voice calls in a beautiful voice called in accented Kardassi. "I'm home." 

"Hey, dad," Mila says as the figure more fully emerges. 

Maresh's face freezes. He's... Stunning. The man in the wedding pictures is young-looking and fresh-faced, but the man in front of her now is a man. A dark beard covers most of his face, making his full lips seem fuller and highlighting his eyes' exotic brown/gold/green. His body is long and elegant, with a smooth brown neck. Maresh did not know that aliens could look like this. 

Elim Garak, Mila’s other father, steps into the room, and the two greet each other with, in Cardassian terms, nearly excessive affection. A kiss on the lips of all things, and then a brief press of foreheads before parting. 

“Hello, my dear,” Mr. Garak says. 

Dr. Bashir smiles, “and hello to you, oh husband mine. I can’t help but notice we’re two children short. Finally sent them off to join the circus?”

Mr. Garak rolls his eyes, “Tolan and Ziyal both wanted to have dinner at their friend’s homes. However, we do have a guest joining us.” 

“Ah, I had noticed. I wondered if you had decided to adopt a child without telling me,” Dr. Bashir says with a teasing smile to his husband before turning to face Maresh. 

“That is much more your style, dear heart,” Mr. Garak replies, amused. “Mila, would you like to introduce your friend.” 

“Oh!” Mila says, jumping up. “Sorry, dad. This is my friend Maresh Zosgon; we were assigned as partners for a project.” 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Dr. Bashir,” Maresh says, forcing words to come to her through her stunned mouth. Those eyes kept looking at her. “May the efforts of your home bolster the strength of the state.” 

Immediately Maresh wishes she could disappear. The greeting was traditional and, by all accounts old world. She only knows it because her mother insisted that she use it when she met older relatives. It was manifestly not the correct greeting for an alien. Dr. Bashir looks momentarily surprised by its formality before he grins at her, amused. 

“Goodness, what lovely manners. I wish Elim and I had any luck raising our children to be so well behaved. Hmm, may your presence in our home support our strength. Is that right?” 

He’s looking at her eagerly to confirm the response, but she’s officially too overwhelmed to respond in anything other than impolite gurgling. Luckily, Mila jumps in. 

“Uh, we do have manners, dad. It’s not our fault we don’t talk like characters out of A Never Ending Sacrifice.” 

“And,” Mr. Garak jumps in, “it is actually ‘May your presence in our home build strength and community to destroy Cardassia’s enemies.” 

Dr. Bashir’s face twists into one of irritation, “you’ll have to forgive me if I forgo the jingoism. Either way, welcome to our home, Maresh–” States how he says her name, lilting the last syllable in a decidedly non-Cardassian way. “We are glad to have you. Please feel free to call me Julian.”

Maresh nearly aspirates on nothing. A first name for an adult? She’s going to pass out. Her scales are turning charcoal, she can tell. 

“Dear,” Mr. Garak says, “you know–” 

“Yes, yes, it’s not traditional. Still, if you feel like you want to be a rebel, feel free,” he says with a playful wink. Her face must be one large blush at this point, she thinks with horror.   

“Why don’t you go get changed?” Mr. Garak asks, taking mercy on their guest. “We can serve dinner when you’re ready.” 

“No need to wait on my account!” He says.

“We are not so lacking in decorum,” Mr. Garak says, lightly chiding. “I won’t have you strolling in halfway through our meal, interrupting our discussion.” 

“Heaven forbid someone try and interrupt you,” Dr. Bashir says with an eye roll. Maresh cannot believe the two of them are flirting, so obviously. Clearly, this type of behavior is not unusual because Mila has already gone back to the kotra board. 

Maresh follows her blindly, barely paying attention to the game as she hears them banter back and forth for a few more moments until Dr. Bashir finally vanishes through the hall. 

“I know it can be overwhelming,” Mila whispers as Mr. Garak putters in the kitchen getting everything ready.

“What? I’m not–” Maresh starts, terrified that her friend somehow clocked that she was lusting over her dad. 

Mila raised a hand to cut her off, “seriously. It’s okay; I know people aren’t used to off worlders. You’re hardly the first person to get a little tongue-tied in front of him. I promise he’s not scary at all.”

Maresh fakes a laugh, “I’m sorry, Mila. You’re right. I just got a little…”

“Say no more,” Mila says. “Like, 90% of people get a little thrown when they first meet him.” 

Because he’s hotter than the sun, Maresh thinks but does not say. 

The dinner is lovely. Evidently, Mr. Garak is an excellent cook. The bigger problem is… Dr. Bashir.

“So, tell me about the project you two were working on,” he asks while he slurps down a noodle in such a pornographic way that Maresh can’t decide if she never wants to look away or can never look at him again. 

“It’s on the use of propaganda in manufacturing consent for the Dominion War,” Mila, thankfully, answers. 

“That is absolutely fascinating,” and god perfect, now his eyes are sparkling. Maresh frantically looks away and happens to catch the eye of Mr. Garak, who smiles knowingly at her as he flicks his eyes back to his husband. 

By the state, this is mortifying. She quietly lets Mila lead a majority of the conversation before being blessedly excused. 

Unfortunately for Maresh, after meeting her, Dr. Bashir turns out to have the personality of a wildly friendly riding hound. He insists on saying hello whenever they pass in the street or when he comes to pick Mila up from school on the rare occasion that Mr. Garak is unavailable. Maresh has not quite been able to figure out what Mr. Garak does- aside from that, according to Mila, he is a stay-at-home father. 

That certainly seems to track, but there is something about how the adults in the room freeze up slightly when he enters that says the story is somewhat more complicated. In any case, Maresh does respect the hustle of a service class Garak of all people being married to a highly ranked foreign dignitary and imminent medical scientist. And one that looked like he stepped out of old Hebitian erotic literature. 

Maresh finds she has an entirely new respect for Mr. Garak, indeed. She’s still considering renting one of those old holomovies (maybe A Joyful Exile?) when the rain starts to pour. 

“Typical,” she mutters to herself. “Absolutely typical.” 

She’s still at least a fifteen-minute walk from her house, and the hover-bus wasn’t set to show up for another 20 minutes. Sometimes, Maresh thinks she’s cursed. She is still contemplating whether or not she should walk home or wait for the bus when a hovercar approaches and slows down. 

Maresh reaches into her bag to get a knife she keeps on her, the city has gotten safer, but it wasn’t unheard of for theft or muggings to occur though she’d be surprised if a person that owns a hovercar would bother to rob her. After all, only the truly well-off in the city even had them. 

“Maresh?” It was Dr. Bashir. Because, of course, it was.

“Dr. Bashir,” she says with a respectful incline of her head. 

“Goodness!” he cried, taking in her clothes steadily getting soaked by the rain. “Would you like a ride home?”

She froze, “uh, no. It’s-uh- it’s, I’m okay.”

He looked up at the sky and saw the clouds darkening even more before a clap of thunder roared through the sky. “Oh, come now. I would hate for you to fall ill; you’re all my Mila has been talking about these days.” 

She hesitated, but it was a kind offer, and in truth, she had never actually been inside a hovercar before. 

“You’ll have to give me directions,” he says once she is seated. She nods but otherwise doesn’t say anything, which is just fine for Dr. Bashir chatters a mile a minute about how Mr. Garak plans to do some landscaping work and improve their garden. 

“-- Of course, I don’t really have those types of skills. Sadly, according to basically everyone in my family, my sense of aesthetics veers towards nonsense, but I just appreciate a bright color pallet!” 

“Left up ahead,” she says softly, trying desperately not to watch his elegant fingers as he gestures wildly obsessively. 

He pulls up to the front of her apartment building and lets her get out; she glances up and sees her mother and can already imagine the tongue lashing she will get for getting into a strange older man’s vehicle. 

“Thank you, Dr. Bashir,” she says hesitantly. 

“Of course!” he says with cheer. “You know, with you and Mila being such good friends, we should have your parents over some time.” 

Maresh gives him a strained smile and tries to imagine her traditionalist mother having dinner with a couple who kiss each other in public. “I’ll pass the invitation along.” 

He nods, and she walks up to her room. The tongue lashing is less severe than she thinks, but that is because Maresh has the good sense to mention upfront that it is, in fact, Dr. Bashir who dropped her off. 

She goes to bed that night and screams into her pillow. She thinks with a wry and bitter smile; Puberty is one of the universe’s consistent forms of torture for sentient beings. 

#my writing #garashir #outsider pov #elim garak #julian bashir #established relationship #I'm still working on my Elim Garak Murderous House Husband fic #but this kinda mini-coda to it came to me in a vision #and its cute and short #so lol here you go

[corruptedconfessions]

i dunno if you're still taking requests but um if you are do you think you could maybe do a Sidon from loz being an absolute feral fish god man. i sim p for fish :>

I actually had a drabble for feral Sidon already sitting on my computer from like??? December? of last year so thank you for giving me the reminder and an excuse to finish it </3

Should I have at least beta read this? Probably. Did I? No. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Golden eyes watched your form disappear into the horizon, staring into the rising sun long after you disappeared from his view. Already his chest ached deeply at the loss of your presence. Why did you want to leave him so badly? Was he not enough for you? Did you believe he couldn’t protect you?

Somewhere inside him he knew that that wasn’t true. You had made it clear that you enjoyed his company, that you trusted him just as much as he trusted you with each others protection. But you were a hero, a champion. It was your destiny from the goddesses to roam the lands, throwing yourself into peril to protect and serve those who needed you.

Like you just had for his kingdom, slaying a mighty beast that had been tormenting his people and killing his soldiers left and right for months. Dozens of Zora soldiers had gone up against the beast and yet you took it down single handedly, with nothing but your weapons and your wit.

It wasn’t without cost, though. Even still when he closed his eyes he could see flashes of your body, bloodied and red. Your very source of life dripping off your fingertips onto the floors of the domain, barely making it past the gates before you collapsed onto the ground.

Yes, it was your destiny, what the goddesses had blessed you for. He knew that, he did. But it didn’t stop the rather…frightening thoughts that filled his head every time you came back from battle, beaten and bloody, skin still lingering with the heavy scent of death and destruction. The thoughts of wrapping you up in his arms and whisking you away, locking you down in a room, away from everyone else, away from things that could harm you. The thoughts of stripping you of your weapons and clothing, leaving you scared and vulnerable, desperate for his comfort and warmth.

You would cry but he would comfort you, this was all for your own good! This way he could take care of you, love and cherish you without the fears of you being ripped out of his arms be it by death or political matters. He could finally lavish you in the gifts he always wanted to, ignoring your protests or insistence that it doesnt fit you, that a warrior like you should not be seen in fine silks and glittering silver encrusted jewels.

You may fight him but he would push you down, easily dwarfing you with his size and strength. You would learn to accept your place next to him. You only needed time! Time to see that this is what was best so you could be together…with him.

At least, that’s how it would go. He always shoved down those thoughts, those urges. He knew it would make you unhappy, but a selfish part of him deep down inside didn’t care. He loved you so much, he just wanted to keep you all to himself.

Unconsciously he found himself wondering towards your room, feet leading there while his head was deep in the waters, drowning in thoughts of you. Your face, your touch, your smile…A lovelorn sigh spilled from his lips. Fate was so cruel to him, any other in the land could be by his side, be his fated, his mate forever and yet you lived just beyond his reach, your status as champion and the blessings of the goddesses leaving you in too high of standing to fall into his loving grasp.

How would you fall apart beneath him? Would it be soft and sweet, melting under his touches and crying out sweetly for him as he stuffs you full? Or would you fight him? Struggling and lashing out, fighting him for dominance with the passion and ferocity he had seen so many times on the battle field. Either way he was sure you would be a tasty meal that he would delight in partaking in! Already he could picture your thighs quivering around his head as he lapped at your most sensitive parts or see your quivering form as you’re stuffed full of his cock, shaking and whimpering as he fills you fuller than you’ve ever been, claiming you all the way to your deepest parts.

He didn’t even realize he had made it into your room, fallen onto the bed you so often used when visiting until your sweet scent surrounded him, taunting him further over your departure. There were still hints of you everywhere, trinkets left behind for safe keeping, a bloodied shirt, shredded beyond use or repair, still covered in the dark stains of your blood. A clawed hand reached out and grabbed it, pulling it close to his face before he even realized he had moved.

                                                        Fuckkk~

Your scent was so intoxicating, it was hard enough controlling himself when he got whiffs of you standing next to you, seeing your bright smile aimed up at him. But now, this pure unfiltered heavy scent…the scent of your blood. He could feel heat rolling through him, his teeth pulling back in a very unprincely like snarl as his hips instinctively rolled up, grinding into the air as he panted. Perhaps…he could forgive himself for losing control…just this once. Already he could feel the heat boiling in his loins, his lengths sliding out of their slits, already beading at the tip as they curled up against his stomach, filling out the more he breathed in your scent.

He hissed into the empty room as his hand wrapped around both of his lengths, slowly dragging up and down them as he rolled over, shoving his face into the bloodied shirt as he humped his tight fist, desperate for the friction that he craved. It wasn’t right, he couldn’t squeeze both his cocks like you would be able to, tight walls fluttering and clenching around him as you whimpered and cried out his name. If he squeezed his eyes closed tight enough he could almost pretend it was you pressed below him, soft warm body molding against his as he jerked off and ground down against you. You would take it wouldn’t you? His perfect champion, ready to be stuffed full of his cocks, to become one with him, become his forever…No one would question whose name you were screaming by the time he was done with you. He snarled teeth sinking deep into the pillow laying innocently next to the shirt, teeth easily slicing through the soft material as he squeezed himself tighter.

Deep growls echoed through the room, intermingling with harsh gasps that he barely registered. All he could feel  was the harsh drag of his claws against his cocks, the way the sheets rubbed roughly up against him with every grind of his hips as he rocked down against the image of you stuck in his head. All he could think about was you, round and heavy with his young, a clear mark on the back of your neck. His mark.

That was all it took for him to spill over, his teeth shredding through the last remnants of the pillow. He pressed his face hard against your shirt, letting your scent fill his senses as his hips weakly jerked forward, wave after wave crashing through him as he spilled across the sheets, a puddle forming below him. He shuttered weakly as his high tapered off, leaving him trembling slightly, his hips pressed into a wet sticky puddle, nothing more than a weak whiff of your scent on the shirt, now replaced with the heavy scent of sex. It wasn’t enough. It would never be enough. He couldn’t wait any longer, letting you slip through his fingers, slip away from where you were meant to be to run off and play hero? No. No more.

He needed to make you his.

#yandere #yandere sidon #sidon x reader #reader insert

[slytherinwh0re]

Now or never

Draco Malfoy x Female Reader

Warnings: SMUT (18+ minors dni), swearing, use of the word m*dblood once

Summary: *Draco’s POV* Where Draco admits his feelings for the girl he’s been friends with for years.

Masterlist

*Draco’s POV*

I’ve never felt anything that comes close to this, a desire so deep it keeps me up at night, longing so ingrained into every crack of my soul it’s all I can think about. That’s what she’s done to me, (y/n) (y/l/n), the girl I’ve known since childhood, the one who’s always been there, and the only person who makes me feel alive.

Why she chooses to keep me around I’d never understand. Whenever I ask she says the same thing everytime, “I need you Draco” the response usually makes my heart slam against my chest but what I don’t think she gets is how I’m the one that needs her. Her warmth and kindness is unlike anything I’ve ever felt, I’m a fiend for it, without it life would be dull.

That’s why when she’s around I make sure to be on my best behavior, even Potter and the Weasel can’t get a reaction out of me when she’s near. Well, none other than a dirty look but she’d usually kiss my cheek and tell me to quit glaring cause it causes wrinkles.

One time in second year I’d called Granger a mudblood in front of her and the disapproving look she gave me was enough to put me off the word forever. She didn’t talk to me for a week after that, I had to apologize to the bushy headed scoundrel before (y/n) would speak to me again, it was humiliating but for her I’d do anything. I’ve never used the word again.

The witch has been there for me through everything, she’s always been my dearest friend, and I hers. So when I hadn’t seen her during the summer inbetween third and fourth year I was confused by my emotions when I’d finally spotted her on the train. I’d always known (y/n) was beautiful, I never denied it, but that year her hips had rounded out, her breasts were fuller, and her face looked more matured. That was the first time I’d wanted to do things with her that friends just don’t do together.

It only got worse from there, the older we got, the more attractive she became. She was everything I’d ever desired, it was torture not allowing myself to tell her the thing I wanted to do to her out of fear of ruining the friendship I valued over everything. Instead I sat back, lusting over the girl who didn’t have a clue.

I’d watch her, in class, at the library, while she was with her other friends, my eyes always seemed to find her in a room full of people. It’s pathetic really but I can’t help it, (y/n) took up every thought in my mind. It’s the worst at night, when I’m trying to sleep and the only thing I can focus on is how fucking nice her ass looked in class that day or the fullness of her lips and how perfect they’d look wrapped around me.

Now here we are in seventh year, both 18, and fully matured, our friendship as strong as ever but I’ve just about had it. I’ve watched as other twats got to call her theirs and be with her in ways I’ve only imagined but I’m always there for her, ready to pick up the pieces of her broken heart when they hurt her. The pretty girl was too kind for her own good and she’d only ever blame herself for them being such fucking idiots, how could they not realize what they’d just lost?

I knew she’d have boyfriends, she was too beautiful not to, but I’d never expected it to hurt me so much to see her with another. However I kept my mouth shut, she knew I didn’t like any of them but I never said anything to her about it, it’s her life and if she’s happy than I suppose that would just have to be enough for me. Although I will admit, I felt relieved when they’d break up, it meant I still had a chance if I ever gained the courage to tell her how in love with her I am.

“What’re you thinking so hard about Draco?” Her eyebrow’s are scrunched together and I can’t help but smile at how cute she looks.

“You.” I tell her honestly, reaching across my bed where she lays to brush the piece of hair off her face. The best part of being a prefect is the private dorm, we’d always come here and hangout.

“Me? What about me?” She rest her face on her hands and gives me her full attention.

I take in a deep breath and decide to be completely honest with her. “(Y/n), you know I think you’re beautiful right?”

“Well uhm—you’ve never really told me that before but uhm thank you.” Her face is bright red but she doesn’t look away, her eyes remain on mine and I feel my heart rate spike. “Why are you telling me this now Draco?”

There’s so many ways I could answer that question but I know if I never tell her the truth I’ll live the rest of my life thinking of the what-if’s. I sit up, grab her hand, and beckon her to do the same so we’re facing each other.

“I’ve always thought you were beautiful my darling but I’ve been a coward,” I take deep breath, preparing myself for what I’m about to say, it’s now or never, “I’ve been hiding my feelings from you for years now. The way I feel about you is much more than what a friend should feel for another friend.” I grab her hands and hold them in my lap, my hearts going a mile a minute but if I stop now I won’t forgive myself. “What I’m trying to say is, I love you, I’m in love with you, I have been for so long.”

She’s silent for a while, just watching me, and I feel my heart begin to shatter. I start to lift myself off the bed but she holds my hands tighter, not letting me move.

“Oh Draco, you must be blind.” She let’s go of one of my hands and puts hers on my cheek, leaning into me until we’re only an inch away from each other. “It’s always been you, I love you.” And then she’s kissing me, and I think I might be dreaming but she throws a leg on either side of my hips, straddling my waist, and I realize this isn’t an image I’ve conjured in my head, my girl is on my lap, kissing me.

It’s like a switch flipped in my head, my hands find her hips, the same hips I’ve dreamt about for years, and I pull her as close to me as possible. Her tongue tangles with mine and she has her hands in my hair, tugging just enough to make my hold on her tighten. When she pulls away for air I tilt her head to the side, giving my lips access to the skin of her neck, sucking hard enough to leave my mark on her for the next few days, the airy moan she lets out is the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard. She’s addicting, the taste of her on my lips is like a drug, the sounds she makes give me goosebumps, and I love her, all of her.

When my sweet girl grinds down on my cock I just about lose it, the moan that leaves my mouth would be embarrassing if I wasn’t so caught up on how perfect the curve of her ass feels in my hands.

“Make me yours Draco.” (Y/n) whispers and I have to pull back to make sure I heard her correctly. Could it be that she really wants to be with me in that way?

“You’re sure my love? We could wait as long as you’d like.” She kisses my jaw and I moan as her hands start pulling on my shirt.

“I’m positive, I’ve wanted this for so long.” Fuck.

I flip us over so she’s laying on the bed and I’m on top of her, I pull my shirt over my head as quickly as possible as she starts fiddling with my belt. I place my hands on the skin of her stomach, moving them upwards slowly, giving her a chance to change her mind but she never was one for patience, instead she yanks her shirt off, leaving her in a thin black bra that she has off even quicker than the shirt, then she places my hands on each breast.

God I fucking love her.

The supple skin feels soft under my finger tips, her peaked nipples just begging to be played with so I do just that. I bring my lips around one, letting my tongue roll over the hard bud, listening to the soft sounds from the girl underneath me.

I hook my fingers into her leggings, dragging them down her silky legs, each new inch of uncovered skin makes my already hard cock grow impossibly harder. Her small hands pull down my pants and boxers with one quick tug, making my dick slap my stomach, leaving only one article of clothing between us. She wraps her fingers around me and I bury my face in her hair, the warmth of her hand driving me insane.

I pull her panties to the side, dipping my fingers into her dripping cunt, and the pretty girl moans my name.

“We can do foreplay another time, I need you now Draco, please.” How could I deny her when she sounds so sexy begging like that. I rip off her panties, throwing the destroyed material somewhere on the floor. I pull her lips back to mine and position myself at her entrance.

When I push into her it’s as if her body was meant for mine, her slick tight walls grip me perfectly. (Y/n)’s nails dig into my back as I keep up a steady pace, her perky tits bouncing with every deep thrust of my hips, and I watch as her swollen lips part into a silent moan as I find the spongy spot I’d been searching for.

My hands explore her body, running up the curve of her hips and up her soft stomach, bringing a thumb up to her bottom lip and watching in awe when she wraps her lips around it, sucking lightly before letting it go. I use that same thumb, to rub small circles into her clit.

“Draco, more, please I need more!” I pull out of her, flip her onto her stomach, and pull her hips up so her ass is in the air.

“As you wish my love.” I lick a single bold line up her center and then slam my hips into her. Giving my pretty girl exactly what she wanted. I smack her ass, thanking every God for letting this happen to me. She arches her back and grabs at the sheets, the screams of my name have me holding onto every fiber of self control I can. “You take my cock so well darling, I’ve dreamt about this so many times.” I smack her ass again, thrusting into her at a brutal pace. She’s soaking wet, the warmth of her cunt sucking me in with every jerk of my hips.

“I’m close Draco!” Her legs are shaking and I reach around her, one hand wrapped around her throat, pulling her to my chest, the other massaging her clit.

“Let go my love, I’ve got you.” I kiss her neck, inching her closer to her release. Her walls clench and she screams, my name leaving her lips on repeat as her orgasm rolls through her body. I wait until she’s done to let myself spill into her, my hips stutter and I moan into her hair as she pants against me.

I lay her down, grab a towel, and clean her up. She just stares at me with a small smile on her face when I lay with her, my pretty girl.

“I love you Draco.”

“I love you (y/n).”

*

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