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#my brain is not a very fun place but it’s at least more fun than my daily activities in this fucking house
awek-s-archived · 1 year
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literally sickens me that ppls criticisms of me even irl is that im not passive enough or that im too ill or too poor or whatever like .. do you really hate me soo much for no reason that you have to invent the most flimsy surface-level frankly concerning and invalid reasons you can for why i don’t deserve basic respect
#especially since I know my own faults down to a T so I’ll own up to it all the time if someone says something that’s genuinely ‘bad’ abt me#it makes me rly fucking sad and depressed lol.#this happens All the time but if I heard correctly my moms bf has some kind of issue w me that he won’t say#and I’ve narrowed it down to me either being depressed and having migraines (bc both come with pains and reserved mood)#or the fact that I have to live at home and subsequently have to Eat and he HATES that they have to spend money on me eating#even tho. i barely get anything bc they eat meat 3 times a day and I mostly don’t#so my daily menu literally consists of maybe a sandwich or a plate of food made from my own brain of some of the most random shit I can find#and it’s not that they don’t feed me or wtv it’s that he does that thing where he complains thinking I’m too stupid to understand what he#means but like I have 2 degrees I think I can decipher what you’re saying lmao#ik it comes from a place of insecurity bc he spends like £100 on alcohol a week and altogether the food I eat in 2 weeks doesn’t even#amount to half of that. but it’s still like. really lmao.#why does everyone always find these fucking issues w me#do you think I want to like. be sick and poor and be unable to find a job for a variety of reasons#do u think I don’t search all the time for ways to get out of here bc I know I’m not wanted like m#i get it!!!! the person I really liked and wanted to be with ditched me. my very best friend ditched me the week after. everyone has always#wanted to ditch me I get it !! im too much baggage and it’s all fun and games til I show signs of mental illness then everyone just leaves.#at least keep it on the downlow so it doesn’t make me feel more awful than I already do.#aweks.txt
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avelera · 7 months
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Man, there’s all these little beats in OFMD S2 1-3 where people keep EXPECTING Stede to be upset or horrified about Ed’s actions and then he’s just. Not. In a way that reminded me of how a lot of fanon kept softening Stede into someone who doesn’t swear and is horrified at Ed for setting those ships on fire when imo to my eyes he was horrified for Ed because Ed was still so clearly distressed about it.
- Zheng Yi Sao asks Stede how he’s doing now that he knows Ed did horrible things to his crew and there’s this beat and Stede just pivots to, oh yeah, sometimes Ed is troubled. Like it didn’t occur to him to be upset on the crew’s behalf he’s worried about Ed.
- Izzy keeps trying to spare Stede’s feelings and cover up Ed’s spiral, but Stede clocked what was going on with Ed immediately and wasn’t the least bit intimidated or bothered. The knives brought the room together. Of course Ed’s trying to burn the world down or die trying. Duh. And I genuinely don’t think the STUFF in the Revenge mattered even a fraction to Stede as much as the signs of Ed’s breakdown broke his heart. It’s just STUFF, who cares.
- Lucius had to SPECIFICALLY call out Stede for not being surprised or bothered by what happened to him. What Ed did. Stede has to almost consciously remind himself to express polite concern. He just doesn’t actually care, instinctively or automatically, about what happened to Lucius. Part of it is he blames himself more than Ed. Part of it is he just doesn’t care, Ed is the priority.
They’re little blink and you’ll miss it pauses in some cases. Micro-expressions. The absence of a reaction. But honestly, I will scream it to the end of time, Stede is not some nonviolent creampuff scared or upset by Ed’s evil ways. He wants to join Ed in the atrocities. The man ran away to become a pirate. He asked if Lucius was taking notes during a murderous raid.
Stede’s at least a little on some kind of whackadoodle pirate comedy neurodivergence spectrum to the point where he actually really actually struggles to empathize with people, even people he cares about!, if their feelings conflict with his hyperfixation (piracy) and the love of his life (Ed Teach). He’s always, ALWAYS going to pick Ed over Lucius or Izzy or his crew or even his own feelings, if the option is there. He will literally throw himself overboard to get to Ed’s side. No pause. No consideration of anyone else or even his own safety.
Stede sometimes seems to have to consciously remind himself things like, oh yeah, the crew, I need to see to them. Not because he’s heartless or doesn’t care, but because it takes a bit of conscious effort for him to see beyond the laser-focused spotlight of what and who he does care most about, he has to remind himself of social niceties and other people’s feelings (just see him running away in the first place!) when he gets an idea in his head. It’s as if he had to train himself to consciously care about some things other people care about and as a neurodivergent person myself, that felt very familiar in a comedically writ large sort of way. I’d even argue that’s where all his aristocratic social niceties come from. They were his guidebook for how to do things “right” in a world that otherwise made no sense to him outside his hyperfixations. He practiced being a person through the aristocratic training because it was all so foreign to him from the start, including caring, actually caring, about the needs of others. Not because he’s consciously evil or consciously a jerk. The instinct just isn’t there unless he practices at it until it becomes reflex to ask how others are doing, because on his own his brain just doesn’t really notice or care.
I just… hope the fandom notes and has as much FUN as I do noticing all the little moments where even people inside the story of OFMD expect Stede to act in a normal way and instead he remains unhinged, laser-focused on Ed.
Stede’s not just an Ed apologist, he truly doesn’t blame Ed for any of it. He blames only himself. He doesn’t always voice this but he really really only cares about anyone else including the crew as a DISTANT second and he has to consciously REMIND himself to do so. He is able to rally to take action, to care about their physical needs like safety during the rescue, but he still struggles, deeply struggles, to remember to show empathy in a non-performative way for anyone except his special person, Ed.
Stede’s not a creampuff, not a nice guy, not some emotionally or morally perfect angel. He has to consciously practice caring about literally anything else but what he wants to do and his special person. And to me that’s a thousand times more interesting than shoving him in a box labeled “the blond, pacifist do-gooder good guy” in their relationship.
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tender-rosiey · 8 months
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hii, hope im not bothering uu!!
my brain is obsessed with ur daddy gojo ficsss!! 🤭🤭 just a thought though. what if gojo brought his kid to work since reader couldnt hire a babysitter and had work to do!! 😱😱 kid can be a baby or like, 7-10?? or something? (idrc i jus need to feed my head with more dad gojo fics 😔😔, kid can be a girl or boy!!) hopee u have a nice dayyy!! ❤❤
missing – gojo satoru x f!reader
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a/n: I wrote the kid being around 5 or 6 max, I think?? hope you like this as well! <3
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you are standing at the door, checking over everything with your husband, "satoru, you got the toys?"
like the proud and confident dad he is, he replies with ease, "yep."
"the snacks?"
“of course,” he grins, pulling up the bag of snacks and toys to show you.
but you’re still stressing, "what about—“
"wifey, relax!” he starts rubbing your shoulders soothingly; “I got everything she needs. you have nothing to worry about,” he presses a loud kiss to your cheek.
"last time you said that, you teleported with d/n to the maldives."
he laughs loudly, before pulling you into a big hug, "aww, babe; I said I am sorry,” he is swaying the both of you, “you know I wanted you to be with us."
"that's not the point!"
"oh wowie, look at the time!” he looks at his fake watch and starts gently pushing you towards the car, “you’re gonna be late sweetheart."
"oh god!" you gasp, quickly giving satoru his goodbye kiss, and running to your daughter to give her own goodbye peck on the cheek as well, “I will miss you; take care of dada, okay?”
“aren’t I the one who is supposed to do that taking care part?!”
“bye ‘toru; bye d/n! love you!”
“love you too!” they both reply in unison before looking each other in the eye. satoru grins at her, “do you want to see uncle nanami?”
“nanamin!” she squeals then runs to god knows where.
soon, they finally get to jujutsu tech.
it took longer than usual because the little missy ran off and decided to play hide and seek. in addition to that, since the madlives incident, you banned satoru from teleporting with d/n because it gets her really dizzy and she starts puking.
so like the common people, he takes a car and has to wait till they arrive there. he wants to grumble, but, at least, his princess is there to play with him and make conversations.
they are finally in class when nobara coos, crouching down in front of d/n, “oh, you’re so cute!”
the little girl grins, “thank you!”
“also, I love your dress!”
“oh; thank you!” d/n gasps and starts twirling around, “mommy picked it for me! It’s so pretty, right?” nobara nods eagerly at her and it makes d/n giggle.
d/n pauses for a moment, a pout on her face and eyes get teary, and looks at satoru, “mommy…”
satoru pats her head, “we will see her soon; don’t worry.”
“wow; I am surprised you’re acting like a proper dad,” megumi comments, waving at d/n who grins back at him.
swiftly, yuuji defends his teacher’s pride, “hey! sensei is a great dad!”
d/n starts swinging her arms around and running in place like she is preparing for something. soon. it is revealed what she is waiting for. the door opens and she launches herself at the new guest, “nanamin!”
nanami effortlessly catches her and secures his hold on her, “d/n, that was dangerous; what if you got hurt?”
she looks down with yet another pout, “I know…’am sorry. just missed you.”
nanami sighs before patting her head, “it’s alright,” a tiny smile creeps up, “are you having fun so far?”
she nods happily and starts rambling about how cool nobara is or how much fun yuuji is to be around. meanwhile, satoru is standing in a corner with his arms crossed and grumbling, “that’s my daughter, you know.”
“imagine losing your daughter’s affection to someone else,” megumi pops up from behind satoru.
he retorts with no hesitation, “imagine not having a father.”
satoru looks petrified at megumi who is so very offended. satoru starts mini-panicking, “wait—megumi, I was kidding!”
“divine dogs.”
satoru shrieks and d/n squeals, pointing at him, “minmin, daddy’s playing with ‘gumi’s dogs!”
nanami averts his attention to gojo playing (read: being attacked). he nods slowly at the suffering man, “he is having so much fun; isn’t he?”
 “yay!” she throws her arms in the air.
nobara snaps a picture of d/n, “she’s adorable!”
yuuji sobs beside her, “I know right?!”
that was at the beginning of the day, but, right now, satoru has to attend a meeting for some reason with the higher-ups, including yaga. though, it hardly counts as a proper one considering that satoru laid out d/n toys so she can play with him.
“daddy, you’re not supposed to give him the green shirt; he needs the blue one.”
satoru quickly obeys, “yes ma’am,” and he changes the doll into his fabulous blue outfit. d/n giggles and holds his face to kiss his cheek.
one of the higher-ups clears his throat, “refrain from such disrespectful behavior during the meeting, gojo.”
satoru smiles humorlessly at the elder, “last time I checked, my daughter’s happiness is a lot more important than the nonsense you spout every single time.”
d/n carefully makes her way down the table and pulls on satoru’s pants, “daddy, toilet, please.”
“this was a fun meeting!” he beams, collecting d/n’s toys in her bag, “I have more urgent matters to attend to so adieu!” he mock bows, before bending to pick his daughter up, “let’s go princess.”
the door closes after satoru and d/n leave, and everyone looks at yaga. he takes a deep breath, “listen, that's his daughter. asking him not to pamper her is like asking a cat to let go of her kittens. you will get bit.”
time passes and satoru is chilling with d/n in the common room. she is laying on his lap and curled around herself. she groggily looks up to him, “when are we going to see mommy?”
he starts stroking her hair, “soon; I promise,” he takes out a candid picture he took of you and hands it to her, “how about you take this until we go back home and see mommy?”
she nods slowly and hugs the photo close. satoru smiles softly and presses a kiss to her forehead. not much after, d/n falls asleep with your photo secure in her hold.
it makes satoru chuckle. it reminds him of how he can never sleep without you either.
that’s why when he goes on mission, he scrolls endlessly through your photos until sleep takes over him or he listens to any voice message you sent. it helps him with the dilemma of missing you, and he is glad it helps his daughter the same way.
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copyright © tender-rosiey
do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported
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alvojake · 14 days
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How about pirate! Jungwon and mermaid! Reader? You can make it dark and stuff. Up to you 😘
「notes」 : bless you and your thinking anony, this is such a *chefs kiss* idea, I actually had a lot of fun writing it!! also, I would like to dedicate this to two of my lovely moots hehe, @yeonzzzn & @wondipity. I hope this feeds into your jungwon brain rot
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Midnight Lagoon | Y.JW
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「paring」 : pirate!jungwon x mermaid!reader 「word count」 : 1.9k
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「synopsis」 : what you and jungwon had was nothing short of unethical, if you were to ask your people, that is. neither of you cared, though, which is how you find yourself waiting for the said man in the very cavern that had started everything, relishing in each other's company.
「genre」 : smut
「warning」 : unprotected sex (just don't), slight manhandling, teasing, cussing, making out, petnames (baby, princess...), praising, rough sex, mentions of marking, creampie, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, lmk if I missed anything!
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The cavern was silent, save for the waves splashing against the shore. It had to have been late into the night. The only source of light was the bioluminescent algae that littered the cavern walls and ceiling. The algae illuminated the space in a soft blue, and the water almost glowed along with it. You lay out on the rocks, crimson tail dipping into the water, enjoying the feeling of the waves cascading across your scales.
Despite knowing the time, you knew that he would be here at any moment. You knew that as soon as his crew was all asleep, he would sneak away to come see you. It has become a routine since Jungwon first found you.
It’s a funny story, really. You had gotten caught in one of their nets when they were anchored in this very cavern. The string was far too tight for you to just rip away from, so you were stuck, fearing that your life was going to come to an end. You had heard the stories from your parents and the elders of the shoal. Pirates were not to be messed with; they would kill you on sight and take your scales to pawn off for a pretty penny.
So to say you were surprised when Jungwon found you and just cut you free would be an understatement. His hands were steady but careful as he wedged his blade between your tail and the net, slicing the dreadful contraption off of you. Even his voice was soft as to not alert those that were on the ship with him. His kind eyes and gentle hands intrigued you and you knew it was wrong, hell it was probably one of the worst things you could do in your life. But god, if you didn’t enjoy the thrill of it all. 
After those events, you stayed behind a cluster of rocks, watching and studying what they were doing. Your family had been worried sick about you all night long, but that was the least of your concerns right now. No, you wanted to actually talk to this man, even if it was the dumbest thing you’ve done. Curiosity has gotten the best of you.
So you waited… and waited… and waited. Finally, you saw Jungwon climbing off of the boat.
You tried to sneak up behind him, but for some miraculous reason, he sensed you there. His head turned, and his eyes bore into yours, peeking from the top of the water.
“I didn’t think a pretty thing like you would hang out around here.” His once soft voice now held a more sinister tone, but instead of getting scared… you were intrigued. Something pulling you towards him, like an angler fish going after the little light antenna on their heads.
That desire only grew from that night when he lured you out of the waters, watching as your tail morphed into human legs, leaving your bottom half completely bare to him. The complete ecstasy that his fingertips brought you left you gasping and begging for more. His dick reaching the most inner parts of your body that you hadn’t even known existed. By the time he was done with you, you had become addicted, wanting nothing more than to be in his embrace once more.
Thus began the little rendezvous, meeting in the very place where he first made love to you, much like what was happening now.
When Jungwon made it into the cavern, he wasn’t surprised at all to find you lying halfway in the water, your tail swishing softly under the surface. Your head was tilted back, eyes closed, enjoying the tranquility that this space brought you. He stopped once he was close enough to fully see you. Watching the way your damp hair cascaded down your back, small droplets of water still falling from the ends. His eyes trailed the length of your body, taking in your chest that was hardly covered due to the shell top you were wearing. Jungwon could feel his dick chub up at the sight alone.
Jungwon’s footsteps were careful and quiet, but you could still feel the vibrations under your fingertips. Your head turned slightly to look over at him, and the corner of your eyes crinkled slightly as a smirk spread across your lips.
“It took you long enough,” you teased the male as you pulled yourself further from the sparkling water. Your fingers wrapped around the pendant that lay between your collarbones, whispering a few soft words, allowing your tail to morph into human legs. Jungwon’s eyes stayed glued to your body, taking in the new skin that had just been revealed to him.
“I had to wait for everyone to fall asleep.” His voice was soft, unlike the dark look that glazed over his eyes. You carefully stood to your feet, but seeing as it's been a little bit since the last time you had to use your legs, your knees buckled, and you tumbled forward right into Jungwon's arms. “Even the sight of me has your legs weak, huh? I'm flattered.”
“Oh, hush.” You rolled your eyes before fixing your posture to wrap your arms around his neck, fingers playing with the ends of his hair. His face was merely inches away from yours, eyes boring into your own. He could smell the sea salt on your skin as he leaned closer to you, sealing your lips in a gentle kiss. 
“God, I've missed your lips so much.” He groaned against your lips, “... I missed you.” He sighed before letting his lips trail from yours to your cheek, down your jaw and neck, before finding purchase on one particular spot right below your ear. A soft sigh fell from your lips as you pulled his body flush against yours, leaving little to no room between the two of you. He continued to press open-mouth kisses along your jugular until he was sure there would be marks left behind, not caring for the consequences you might face once you were home.
“Won…” You whine when his hands traveled down to the fat of your ass, squeezing harshly. He licked a long stipe up your neck before roughly kissing you. His lips moved fervently against yours as he swiftly picked you up off of your feet. 
Jungwon wasted no time in laying your body flat on the flat rocks that sat next to the lagoon. His body slotted against yours, allowing you to feel his bulge against your bare pussy. Your small whines and whimpers were swallowed by Jungwon’s mouth as his fingers brushed along the inside of your thigh.
Your body felt like it was on fire under his touch, his fingers leaving tingles in their wake. But it wasn’t enough; no, you wanted more, and you didn’t want to wait. Noticing the impatiens in your eyes, Jungwon chuckled, pressing his thumb firmly against your clit, making your hips buck and a broken cry fall from your lips.
“Do you really want my cock that bad baby? You’re dripping on my fingers.” He teased, his fingertips tracing your slit, collecting your slick.
“Wonnie, please, I don’t wanna wait. Just fuck me, please.” You pleaded in a meek voice, and Jungwon smirked against your skin.
Who was he to deny you what you were asking so nicely for? So he pressed one last kiss against your forehead before pulling back to rid himself of his clothing. Your mouth watered at the sight of his cock springing free from his trousers. Catching your gaze, he put on a bit of a show, pumping his cock a few times, hissing through his teeth at the sensation. Impatience grew in your chest as you watched him pleasure himself. A whine fell from your lips when he denied your motion for him to move towards you. 
Eyes rolling, you moved your hand down to your cunt using your fingers to spread your pussy lips, “Just fuck me already, Won, please.”
He chuckled once more before finally giving in and moving closer to your body, grabbing your plush thigh. Leaning over your body, he captured your lips in another heated kiss as he lined his cock with your entrance. In one swift motion, he buried himself in your warm heat, swallowing all of the moans that slipped past your lips.
“Fuck you’re so fucking tight, baby,” He groaned, biting down on your bottom lip. It had been far too long since he was last able to bury himself in your wet cavern, the crew and missions taking up a majority of his time. So he wasn’t going to hold back; no, he had a lot of lost time to make up for.
He gave you a split second to adjust before his hips were snapping into yours in such a rough manner you were sure there would be bruises. The sounds of your skin hitting his and moans bounced off of the cavern walls. Jungwon couldn’t hold back; his hips were pistoned into your, trying to get as deep as he could, throwing your legs over his shoulders, pushing even deeper. Deep enough to have the head of his cock kissing your cervix. 
Wonton moans fell from your lips as you tried your best to stay up with his pace, but as soon as his tip brushed over that sweet spot deep in your pussy you were putty in his hands. Stars clouded your vision, your orgasm already on the tip of your tongue.
“Fuck- Won, I’m- shit, I’m close.” Tears brimmed in your eyes at the sudden overwhelming pleasure. Jungwon leaned down, kissing over the few tears that had fallen from your eyes, whispering sweet praises against your skin while his hip snapped brutally into yours.
“You’re such a good girl, aren’t you?” He groaned when your cunt squeezed around him, “fuck princess, you keep doing that, and I won’t last.” His hands trailed from your thigh to your hands, intertwining your fingers when your high washed over you. His pace slowed just a little to help you ride out your orgasm, but his movements never stopped.
“Won-” “Just a little longer, baby, I’m almost there.” He groaned before picking up the pace once more, letting go of one of your hands to rub his thumb against your clit, relishing in the feeling of your walls fluttering around him.
Your head fell back at the overstimulation, all words but his name leaving your brain. Jungwon loved when he got you like this, so fucked out that his name was the only thing you could remember. Chuckling, he pressed a kiss against your plush thigh before a choked groan tore through his lips when he felt you cum for a second time. The tightness around his sensitive cock was enough to finally push him over the edge, painting your velvet walls white.
“Shit…” He groaned into your neck as he leaned over you, hips rocking softly against yours. Taking in your scent, memorizing it once more for he wasn’t sure when he would be able to see you again. 
“Won,” you breathed out, running your shaky fingers through his hair. "You’re still hard.”
Jungwon couldn’t help but chuckle before rolling his hips deeply into yours, pushing his cum further into your womb, “You drive me insane, baby, and I want to fill you so full of my cum.”
A whine slipped past your swollen lips as his pace picked up a little, but your grip on his body didn’t let up. No, your lips found his, kissing him deeply, telling him that you would love nothing more.
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@alvojake | Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or repost any of my work
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tartaroooo · 22 days
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One More Night
Hookups were supposedly a one- time thing. A way to have fun without getting attached.
So why the fuck does he keep coming back to you?
Scaramouche x Gn!Reader
A/n: A quick edit of a draft I've had in my notes for a while now.
Art credits: ike_0910
Warning: Slight nsfw, cursing
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Scaramouche despises hookups.
To be tangled within the sheets with a complete stranger, the idea repulsed him to no end. Honestly, it was rather pathetic. It was nothing more than a desperate act of attention. A despondent call to those terrified of estrangement. But archons forbid, he'd be lying if he said he wasn't the least bit curious.
Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to try at least once?
Besides, stress has been eating him up lately. He needed a way to clear his thoughts and forget. To let go and revel in the pleasure of losing himself in his inhibitions.
But there must be something wrong with his hookup. Weren't they supposedly a one- time thing? A way to have fun without getting attached?
So why the fuck does he keep coming back to you?
Why does he insist on keeping you on his bed, with a part of him wishing you'd stay there forever?
He hated this so much.
Words can’t express how much he loathes this thing referred to as attachment. He refuses to let his emotions run rampant again and undergo the heartbreak of treachery. He’s been betrayed three times. He’s not letting you be his fourth one.
Yet here he was, in bed with you for the 5th time this week, lips locked in a fiery fit of passion. Your wrists were pinned above your head, it was scary how he didn’t want to let you go. How despite his repugnance towards devotion, his hypocrisy ruled with the thoughts of keeping you in place.
"You taste so fucking good…", he mumbles as his breath brushes against your lips. Your skin was redolent of fresh lemon with the base of woody amber, the bed sheets stained with the scent of your perfume. The air was heavy, choking the last of his self-control. He eyes you, taking shallow breaths underneath him as you tried to catch your breath. He couldn’t help the twitch of his lips as you never fail to provide him with the dopamine of having control. He dives in for another kiss, this time devoid of passion and merely fueled by his hunger. Hunger for you. For the delightful moans that slip out your pretty, little mouth when he pounds relentlessly into you. For the way your body arches when he rakes his fingernails across your smooth skin, all the while his hips snap forward to hit that spot deep within you. A certain area only he knows that would drive you crazy.
He was obsessed with this feeling.
He knows that he should've let you go already, that this is something that shouldn't be happening. But dear archons forgive him because being wrong never felt so right. You were like a poison who seeped into his veins, rewiring his brain to be filled with thoughts regarding you and you alone. You collapsed the building of his very morals, turned everything he stood up for into non-existent debris.
"One more night…" He mutters, burying his face into the crook of your neck. It would be a comforting gesture, if not for the fact that he sinks his teeth into your skin and gnaws on it like a piece of meat. He’s sure that's going to leave a mark tomorrow yet it doesn’t stop the sinful moan that escapes your throat, an invitation for him to keep going. And he will most definitely keep going. His sense of judgement disintegrated when you hooked your arms around his neck, reciprocating his intense desire that tarnished both your bodies and short circuited your willpower. Nothing else mattered. Just you and his desire to have his way with you until he's satisfied.
A low chuckle escapes from the confines of his throat as he saw how much of a mess you became. A mess that belonged in his museum of you, framed, sculpted or whatever way its preserved. With a smirk that seemed to widen every passing minute, his fingers lightly trace the curve of your spine.
He just couldn't get enough of you.
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Sunscreen & Statistics (S.R.)
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Summary: Reader asks for Spencer’s help putting on sunscreen (and washing it off after).  Request: Spencer lecturing Reader on the statistics of wearing sunscreen, but his mind going blank when reader needs him to help put it on. A/N: This is my (first) entry to my Summer Sunshine Challenge! Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: Smut (NSFW, 18+) Content Warning: Spencer POV, so much sexual tension, mutual pining, heavy petting, fingering, rough sex, unprotected penetrative sex, coworker relationship, so many statistics (showers, skin cancer, sunscreen, sex), schizophrenia mention, Reader wears a bikini Word Count: 5.6k
MASTERLIST
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It was a beautiful day—the kind that artists had attempted to capture through many mediums. The summer sun was relentless, stretching its rays across every inch of the region. Even the shade hardly seemed spared, with bits of bright light slipping between green rustling leaves.
This seemingly idyllic set of circumstances offered the BAU a wonderful excuse to stay behind on the sunnier coast. Everyone was quick to buy new bathing suits and Rossi had already begrudgingly extended an invitation for everyone to stay at his favorite luxury hotel (on his dime, of course, or none of us would’ve made it).
The celebrations were already in full swing, and everyone was blissfully happy. It was, after all, the perfect day to hang out by the pool. So, they did. Each and every one…
Except for me. I stayed inside.
I wasn’t trying to ruin the fun. I had my reasons. Some were more reasonable than others.
Others were scary and slightly embarrassing. They wore a smile so bright it would rival the sun and managed to make me turn red even quicker than the star could. The kind of reason that turned me to nothing but a blubbering mess of a man.
I should’ve known better than to try to avoid her, though. Because that reason, that very important and tempting enchantress of a reason, always seemed to find me at the most inopportune time.
“Are you still hiding in here?”
I nearly jumped through my skin at the sound.
“No!”
I turned to find her staring back with an entertained, albeit disbelieving stare.
“Sort of. Maybe,” I felt compelled to continue.
When she still didn’t believe me—for obvious reasons—I finally conceded, “Yes.”
To my joy and eternal shame, she laughed like it had been an intentional joke.
“Well, I got banished back inside because I forgot sunscreen, so I’m trying to figure out where JJ left her bag,” she sighed.
Thankfully, that had been something I could help with. Despite everyone’s enthusiasm when they’d tossed the bags into the center of the suite lobby, I had managed to determine who owned which brightly colored pattern.
From my seat in the center, I reached over to pull JJ’s bag from the fray.
As soon as (y/n) spotted the motion, she was quick to exclaim, “My hero!”
Immediately, I felt the blood rush to my face.
I suppose there were worse places it could have gone.
“How did you forget sunscreen?” I asked.
“I hate the way it feels, so I almost never wear it unless forced,” she shrugged. Then, she turned to me, pointing the bottle like a weapon as she explained, “Plus, it always feels like they’re trying to trick me with all the numbers. I don’t know what SPF is. They could just be lying to me.”
“Well, the good news is that even a weak sunscreen is helpful,” I tried to reassure her. “Regular daily use of at least 15 SPF can reduce your risk of squamous cell carcinoma and melanoma by up to 50%.”
“Is that right?”
“Yeah. I can tell you more about this product specifically, if you want.”
When I held out my hand, she was quick to hand me the bottle. I was, in turn, very happy to have an excuse to look at something other than her before all the blood left my brain.
“Okay, so, this one is an interesting formula. It offers a decent coverage and—,” I started, but my voice died just as soon as I looked up.
Because there she was, pulling her top over her head to reveal the barely-there bikini beneath it.
I knew I only had a few seconds to shamelessly ogle her before she would find out, and I greedily accepted the sight of soft curves that all consisted of and led to her.
My eyes traversed her body the way I wished my hands could until I was left practically trembling.
The blood wasn’t in my face anymore. It wasn’t even anywhere near my brain. To the point I’d barely even noticed she’d already taken her pants off until her voice snapped me back to reality.
“And what?” she said.
“What?”
“… You stopped talking.”
“I did?”
She reached forward and grabbed the bottle from my hand. If she’d noticed the way I had been looking at her, she didn’t say anything about it. She just sort of… smiled.
“Are you alright, Doctor?” she asked.
“Yes,” I lied.
I might’ve been able to answer honestly if it hadn’t been for the way she dumped the contents of the bottle into her hand and began lathering it over her legs.
“A-Anyways,” I tried to continue. With a wavering voice and wandering eyes, I rambled, “to maximize protection you should really use about an ounce of sunscreen with an SPF of 30. Anything over 30 is, well, like you suggested, sort of a scam.”
All the while, there she was, smoothing over slick skin that smelled like summer.
“An ounce, huh?” she hummed as her hands traveled between pillowy thighs to coat skin the sun could rarely reach. “Feels like you could make it a drinking game with enough motivation.”
“Drinking alcohol actually dramatically increases your risk of sunburn, so you should definitely wear more sunscreen if you’re drinking,” I muttered absently while my eyes stayed firmly fixed between her thighs long after her hands had abandoned the area.
“Noted,” she said, the end of the word tinged with a little bit of amusement.
I looked up at her to try to understand what had excited her, or perhaps annoyed her.
Or at least, I tried to look at her face. My eyes made a few involuntarily stops along the way. Once they settled safely back on her smile, however, she was quick to get my blood pumping in a different way.
“So, will you help me?” she asked.
“With what?”
She scoffed, then laughed.
“… the sunscreen? Duh.”
Despite my best efforts to make any sense of the request, I was, once again, a hopeless, lovesick idiot.
“W-What?” I babbled, “You… You want me to put it on? You?”
“I can ask JJ if it makes you uncomfortable.”
“No!” I blurted out with both hands raised in opposition or surrender.
Didn’t seem to matter which.
I tried to explain it away, but my attempts to bolster my good character seemed even less convincing than the sudden outburst.
“N-No, no it’s fine. I-It’s… why would that make me… uncomfortable? I’m fine. I can do it.”
“Wow. Convincing,” she teased.
And that is what it was. There was no anger in her tone; not even a hint of resentment. She laughed, and I did, too.
“Okay, I admit that wasn’t very convincing. But seriously, I can do it. Promise.”
She spoke through her teeth when she muttered, “Whatever you say.”
When she tossed me the bottle back, we were both surprised to find that I’d caught it.
My hands, still shaky, were quick to close the gap between our bodies. The sunscreen felt nearly frigid compared to our skin, but she didn’t seem to mind.
In fact, she rewarded the sensation with a dreamy sigh and a slight arching of her back.
That motion, however small, felt like fire to an already ruined man. I tried to stay focused on more innocent areas. I worked my hands over knotted muscles in her shoulder and tried to free her of those burdens, too. With each swipe of my thumbs, she would let out the most delicious rumble that made me want to do it again.
Each time that I pulled away to add more, I came back a few inches lower until my fingers nearly slipped beneath the top of her bikini bottoms.
At that moment, with her arched lower back pressed against my palms and my fingers brushing against the little fabric between us, she shivered. Silently, I watched as the goosebumps covered her skin like a sheet.
Reaching forward to grab hold of the couch in front of her, she arched her back once more. The movement seemed intentional, closing a couple inches of the distance between us until there was almost nothing.
With more speed than I’d intended, I stepped back and nearly fell.
“O-Okay, I-I think that’s it!” I said with a squeak.
To my dismay, she stayed exactly where she was for a long moment. In fact, she deepened the stretch and fell forward with a sigh before she whined, “Shame.”
I tried to calm my fast beating heart while simultaneously trying to run from the thoughts that continued to chase me the longer she stayed bent over. My hands were still buzzing from the contact, and I felt almost lightheaded from the strength of the unrelenting erection still struggling against compression shorts underneath my pants.
(I had been right that I would need them if she was going to be there.)
And there she was, finally standing and stretching her arms over her head. They dropped back down and I couldn’t stop myself from admiring the effect of physics on her chest.
“It felt nice to be touched like that,” she sighed.
I couldn’t respond to that without making a complete fool of myself, so I tried to distance myself from the moment, instead.
“You’re actually supposed to wait 30 minutes after application to go into the sun, but, y-you can probably just sit in the shade and wait.”
“Did you already apply yours?”
“I’m not taking off my clothes so I could do it myself,” I explained.
I should’ve known better than to doubt her ability to get whatever she wanted—which, at the moment seemed to be my catastrophic defeat.
“Well, that’s not fair,” she whined, “I want to return the favor!”
“I-I mean… I’ll probably have to reapply it to my face soon, but I doubt you want to—.”
“Awe! Fun!” she cried before I could finish the thought, “Gimme!”
“Oh… um, okay.”
I handed her the bottle and whatever I still had of my heart. With expert fingers, she spread the chilly contents over my cheeks. We were both smiling, the expressions growing wider and more genuine as she started to play with pliable skin.
I involuntarily joined in on her laughter. Her hands and eyes were so warm, I couldn’t help but melt into a puddle in her palms.
The moment ended far too quickly. I missed her immediately, but she made sure that my smile didn’t fade.
“There. You’re only sort of pasty now,” she sighed contentedly before adding, “Mostly red, actually.”
“Gee, I wonder why,” I grumbled back. The sarcastic tilt to the sound wasn’t lost on her.
I realized in that awkward, somehow lonely quiet that I loved her more than I’d thought.
I almost wanted to tell her. I’d even opened my mouth, ready to spill the contents of my soul and hope for the best.
I never got a chance, though. Because before I’d uttered a single syllable, she jumped with her own realization.
“Oh, I forgot the most important part!”
“What?”
She turned away from me and dove her attention into the pile of bags without further explanation. I watched as she dug through clothing and whatever else she’d stuffed into her tote until she stood triumphantly with a closed fist.
“What?” I asked again.
She held up a single finger in reply.
I followed her instruction, waiting patiently as I watched her uncap a small tube of chapstick and use it to thoroughly coat her lips. Once again, I was left to shamelessly stare at a beautiful woman as she dutifully cared for herself in a way I’d wished I could.
Swallowing the lump in my throat that carried heartfelt confessions, I spoke again.
“What am I waiting for, exactly?” I teased.
Her eyes narrowed with what seemed to be a playful warning.
“Sunscreen application,” she explained flatly, “Duh.”
I paused. My head cocked to the side and my face twisted as I struggled to find any explanation for why she’d needed me for this part.
“Wha—?”
Then, just when I’d started to speak, it hit me all at once.
And by that, I mean she kissed me.
With both hands cupping already-reddened cheeks, she pulled me forward until I could taste flavored lip balm and her.
Her lips opened, sliding against mine with an undeniable affection that made my whole body tense. I tried to hold her, but it all happened so quickly that by the time I raised my hands to her arms, she was almost gone.
“There!” she said happily, “Now we’re ready.”
For what? I wanted to ask.
But before I could make myself speak, she was already gone.
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I spent the next several hours outside.
The rest of the team seemed both surprised and not surprised about my decision to join them. After all, everyone knew I didn’t particularly enjoy pools or any body of water, and, despite my Vegas origins, the sun and I didn’t quite get along.
But they also knew I liked her.
It had never been more obvious than it was that day, when I emerged from the safety of darkness with freshly kissed lips and an expression filled with utter confusion.
(Y/n) was quick to greet me in her usual manner. She said nothing about the kiss.
Part of me had even started to wonder if I’d hallucinated the whole thing. Maybe the doctors had all been wrong, and I was already waist-deep in psychosis that manifested purely through happy memories of her.
It would be an odd presentation, sure, but at the time it somehow felt more likely than her returning my affections. But as soon as I started to convince myself, she would flash me a glance that set my already overheated body on fire. Even as she peered up at me from the edge, I could still see her smile under the water.
She wore that same look in her eye she always did when we were alone. It was a slightly unnerving but mostly flattering feeling. It felt like being wanted by a beautiful woman.
I’m definitely losing it.
That was the only reasonable conclusion to reach. Because when she emerged from the pool, I could’ve sworn she paused before to make sure I was watching.
Of course, I was watching. I made sure that my flawless memory captured damn near every droplet as it caressed her curves. I stared, practically worshipped the sight of her lips parted with a relieved exhale that I could see leave her chest.
The blood was gone again. I was doomed.
“You’re still hiding, huh?”
I was too afraid to answer until she took the seat closest to me.
“No, not hiding, just… staying safe,” I explained through my typical awkward smile.
I pointed up to the umbrella above me, but she didn’t look. Her eyes stayed glued to me.
“It’s probably time for me to reapply, huh?” she laughed.
I liked the way it sounded, so, I laughed, too.
“Yeah, to be honest, you really should’ve done it a couple hours ago, but I didn’t want you to think I was… a wet blanket or a pervert.”
She snorted at the suggestion. Her eyes squinted, playful as always and carrying some meaning that evaded me.
“It’s very interesting that those were the two options that came to your mind,” she said.
I panicked.
“I don’t know, it’s weird, isn’t it? Me insisting you should let me touch you?” I rushed, “I’m not crazy, right? It’s… weird! It’s…!”
She sighed.
At first, I mistook the sound for annoyance. But when I looked into her eyes, I knew that wasn’t right.
Because she looked… like she had been caught in a dream. A melancholy fantasy of something she felt was just beyond her reach.
She was looking at me, I realized, exactly the same way I looked at her.
 “You’re not crazy, Spencer,” she said with a smile, “Just a little oblivious.”
My lips twitched as I fought a smirk that came through, anyway.
“I can accept that.”
She seemed pleased, as if I’d given the right answer.
“Well, the good news is I’m done with the sun for the day,” she announced.
Her eyes finally left me as she once again stretched her arms over her head and left me to ogle her like an idiot. Then, when I was thoroughly distracted, she glanced around like she was checking to see if anyone could hear her.
“They don’t seem to be calming down, so…” she said, much quieter now, “any statistics on what I should do with sunscreen when I’m finished with it?”
“No statistics, per se, but you definitely should wash it off. It can be pretty irritating for skin,” I answered matter-of-factly. “Not to mention the salts and chemicals from the pool.”
“I see,” she laughed.
Then, when she realized that I was, in fact, a hopeless, perverted fool with no blood in his brain, she made her intentions much clearer.
“Will you help me with that?”
Not clear enough for me, though.
“What?” I asked.
“With the sunscreen,” she answered simply.
“Uh—.”
Even that eloquent thought couldn’t make it through a parched, tightening throat. With each passing second and every syllable uttered, my voice got higher and even more unstable.
“I’m sorry, are you—what—w-what are you asking me?”
That’s when she took my hand, bursting with laughter as she dragged me from me seat with the most terrifying, alluring, and magical answer.
“Come on, pretty boy.”
I followed her without question but many concerns—the largest of which was the fear that she was actually leading me to my demise by humiliation.
Those worries grew tenfold when she yanked me over the threshold into her private room.
I stumbled forward and practically fell into her arms. But she was waiting for me, seemingly anticipating the clumsiness. Her hands were still soft, still soothing on boiling skin as she guided my lips to hers for the second time that day.
That time, I was prepared.
My hands covered her sun-kissed cheeks and pulled her even closer than she’d done to me before.
She tasted like salt and sugar from summer fresh fruit. I gave her every breath that I had, panting hopelessly against her lips each time that we broke apart.
Her hands were gentle when they found mine. I was reluctant to leave her until I realized that she was simply repositioning them to less innocent areas.
Still, I hesitated to go any further. I let my hands rest softly against her hips while I struggled to express my relief.
“Thank god,” I laughed, “I was sort of worried you were going to beat me up for staring at you all day.”
Her eyes locked onto mine with a hunger that seemed almost insatiable.
“No, I like it when you look at me like that,” she stated so simply it hurt. “In fact, I think I want to thank you.”
Before I could ask her how she intended to that, she made her intentions very clear by grabbing my dick through the fabric of my pants.
“So, tell me… any statistics on why we shouldn’t have sex in the shower?” she asked.
I don’t know how she’d expected me to think clearly. It actually seemed like she was purposefully trying to make it harder for me to form any words at all.
“It’s actually—,” I started just to stop when she started stroking the full length of me with devilish fingers.
“It’s actually really dangerous to try to have sex in the shower,” I tried again.
That time, she began applying a cascading pressure through playful fingertips. I spoke faster, trying to finish any thought before I truly lost my mind.
“There is a—fuck—a 44% chance of injury,” I forced out.
Her hand stopped. She cocked her head to the side with a brilliant smile and asked, “Is that right?”
I was almost relieved. Almost.
“Yeah, and…”
Then she started taking off my pants.
“A-and it can be quite uncomfortable for a woman without additional lubrication,” I said while shaking my head.
Even my subconscious knew I was speaking against my own self-interest, that I could’ve just accepted her question as rhetorical. I could’ve just shut up and go along with whatever she wanted because I would always be happy so long as she was happy.
She dropped down as she pulled my pants to the ground and revealed a second set of bottoms. I couldn’t be sure of it, but she seemed vindicated when she realized how hard my body was struggling against the compression shorts.
“The movies make it look so fun, don’t they?” she hummed as she stood back up. “I guess it is pretty dangerous. And inconvenient.”
“Yeah, but also, I sort of wish I hadn’t said any of that,” I responded immediately, “Let’s do it anyway.”
Thankfully, she found my eagerness charming and not pathetic (or perhaps those were the same to her). Her fingers sneaked past the band of the compression shorts, but she didn’t make the move to remove them yet.
Instead, she used her free hand to lead mine straight to the knot holding her bikini bottoms together.
My fingers twitched. She leaned closer, her cheek pressed against mine and her breath hot on my ear as she said the most beautiful words.
“We can shower after, then.”
“Thank you god,” I cried.
Practiced fingers untangled the knots within seconds, and I fought the urge to stare at her newly exposed skin by kissing her instead.
Her skin, still wet, was chilled enough from the cooler air that she barely reacted when I backed her against the ceramic countertop in the bathroom.
She leaned back, groaning with relief when I finally undid the knots of her top.
Again, I shamelessly admired the wonderful world of physics as it was displayed before me. With each breath, her chest lifted and came closer to my own.
Seemingly sharing the same thoughts, she reached forward and practically tugged my shirt off of me.
As soon as I could, I held her naked body as close to me as I could. My hands covered her lower back and drifted further down her hips, seeking every inch of cold skin that remained.
“God, you’re beautiful,” I whispered. I couldn’t see most of her, but the memory from mere seconds ago was as vivid as it would ever be. “Words don’t exist that would ever do it justice.”
She pulled back, still toying with the tops of my shorts with that insatiable look in her eyes.
“I’d say take a picture, but I think your memory might rival a camera,” she giggled.
“I’ll never forget this,” I promised her, “I’ll never forget you.”
But there were so many other ways I’d yet to see her. So, after carefully loving each inch of her hips, I turned my attention to the burning heat between her thighs. 
At the same time my finger slid through slick folds, my lips found hers once more.
“I wanna make you feel good,” I slurred.
Her lips parted in a broken gasp as I tried to do just that. I inched eager fingers between tight muscles and didn’t even bother fighting the urge to moan into her mouth.
She swallowed that desire and returned her own with a growing enthusiasm. My fingers grew faster, sloppier in their gentle beckoning for her to fall apart.
“That’s it. Good girl,” I reassured her when her breathy moans became pitchy. “Oh, you deserve to feel so good, sweetheart.”
That spark in her eyes had turned into a wildfire further stoked by my praise. I leaned into it; I became more confident in my loving her. Her walls were tense and insistent, seeking something more than what my hand could give them.
I withdrew them despite her immediate protests. She recanted any complaint as soon as I moved drenched fingers to the small pearl at her center.
Her moans became shameless, and I accepted them as an imminent victory. She rocked her hips against my hand, riding it to find her elusive end.
All the while, her eyes were locked onto mine. She refused to look away, forced us both to acknowledge that I was the one who brought her here. To the edge of the abyss, to the ultimate euphoria.
“That’s it, pretty girl,” I said through a smirk, “Come for me.”
She followed the direction with the utmost enthusiasm. She fell forward, favoring me to the cold countertop. I caught her but continued my relentless efforts to please her.
I kept going, kept cherishing her until she whimpered from my touch. Then I held her. I pet her damp hair and laid a gentle kiss atop the crown of her head.
“Good girl,” I assured her.
But I wasn’t finished yet.
“Now turn around.”
She perked up the second she’d heard the order. Although she’d barely caught her breath, she turned on shaky legs without question.
My hands found her hips just like they had before. Except this time, there were no bikini bottoms. There was only pillowy flesh and the strong muscles of her backside pressed firmly against my dick.
Barely moving away from her, I finally freed myself from the confines of compression shorts. I groaned with relief and noticed how the sound made her back arch further.
When I lined myself up at her entrance, she rewarded the action with a dreamy sigh.
It wasn’t enough for me. I wanted to see the look on her face, to hear the desperation in her voice before I gave her what I’d fantasized of from the moment I met her.
My hand knotted in her hair. I pulled her back from her comfortable position braced against the countertop. I held her up so that I could whisper in her ear the same as she’d done to me earlier.
“This is what you wanted, right?” I asked, as if her whimpers hadn’t been answer enough.
“Yes,” she moaned, “please.”
The sound of debauchery on her tongue sent shockwaves through me. My cock twitched involuntarily, bumping against satin skin now dripping with desire.
I barely resisted the urge to slam into her with full force. Instead, I stayed there, with just the tip of me inside of her as I groaned.
“Oh, I’d give you the whole world if you asked me like that.”
“This’ll do for now,” she giggled.
Her hips began to sway as she rocked on her toes. She chased even just a half inch more of me and rewarded me with beautiful sounds when I finally started to sink into her.
“That’s it…” I sighed.
Her confidence was quickly shaken, though, as my pursuit continued. Not even half of my dick was inside her when I felt her start to tremble.
“You can take it,” I assured her.
She responded by tightening her muscles even further, resisting the gentle stretch of her body as it accommodated my own.
“That’s my girl,” I groaned. The blinding heat of her demanded my full attention to the point that I was barely coherent as I slurred, “You’re doing such a good job, sweetheart.”
But all it took was one word to unravel my best efforts.
“Spencer,” she whimpered.
Any hesitance I had vanished without a trace. I thrust my hips forward to the hilt with so much force that she scrambled to stay on her feet. Manicured nails struggled to find a grip the ceramic before my next motion.
I took my time pulling back, and I watched her struggle with the fullness that was our bodies come together. I reveled in the sight of her heaving chest and clouded eyes.
That time, I didn’t fight the urge to slam into her. I even pulled her back as I did it, bringing our bodies together over and over again with a blissful type of violence.
With each thrust, I watched her reaction in the mirror. I made sure that my mind captured each second of her pleasure. Each time her jaw dropped open with whines and praise in the shape of my name.
“Please, Spencer,” she keened with a white-knuckled grip on the edge of the counter.
I hadn’t been sure what she was asking for, so I continued to love her the same as I always had.
But she only became more frustrated, sobbing with pleasure the next time my hips crashed into hers.
“Harder,” she cried out.
And I tried. I tried to follow her instruction, to grant her the release that could only be found in the fullest expression of years of repressed passion.
The problem wasn’t my unwillingness to give my everything to her. Rather, it was the siren’s call of resistant, relentlessly desperate muscles.
“You’re so fucking tight,” I ground through clenched jaw. 
Then, with a small and wavering voice, she insisted, “I can take it.”
Every atom of my being burned with a suffocating desire. It felt nearly feral; fully free to show her just how badly my body ached to be with her.
She began slamming back against me with a similar fervor and I almost made myself stop.
“Fuck, I’m so close, but I don’t want it to end,” I begged her.
But that beautiful, evasive, brilliant star of a woman just giggled. I could practically feel myself leaving bruises in the shape of my fingertips and she couldn’t have been happier.
Through the mirror, she looked at me and reminded me of the full, unrelenting power of the sun.
“Don’t worry,” she purred, “we can do it again later.”
That was all it took. With just a look, she practically brought me to my knees.
“Fuck!” I choked as I slammed into her with my full force. We both nearly collapsed against the counter, but I managed to pull her hips down harder against me just as I found my release.
The blissful heat of her grew to new heights as I filled her. Each wave of pleasure caused her to shiver with sheets of goosebumps.
I watched through half-lidded, lust-clouded vision as she accepted every inch and every drop of my desire with a euphoric smile.
“Sorry,” I said while trying to catch my breath. Even when I managed to capture some breath, it escaped me with a laugh as I explained, “I… I wasn’t expecting you to say that.”
“Don’t apologize,” she slurred.
I might’ve thought she was just being merciful if she hadn’t immediately followed, “That was fun.”
It was so obviously sincere, but I was so ridiculously stupid that I had to be sure, anyway.
“Yeah?” I asked.
“Yeah,” she laughed.
The sound was even more beautiful when I could feel the vibrations from within. I groaned from the thought of how it might feel for her lips to be wrapped around my cock. It twitched inside her, and she responded with a small whimper.
My hips bucked one more time, forcing me to the hilt before I withdrew in one quick motion.
I stood there for a moment, holding her hips steady as I watched the evidence of what we’d just done drip down her thighs.
My stomach was filled with butterflies doing flips and there was no accounting for the blood that still hadn’t made its way back to my brain.
(Y/n) was patient as ever with a pitiful man.
“Come on, pretty boy,” she chuckled as she took my hand, “help me get clean.”
Despite my best efforts, there were significantly less attempts to get clean in the shower than I’d expected. It was only thanks to her self-preservation that we didn’t end up having sex in the shower, although we came pretty close.
I could never tire of kissing her, but I realized I could love her just as much with lather as I could with my lips. My worship shifted as I dutifully cared for her the way I’d always wished I could.
When it was over, I didn’t give up. I followed her into her bed and she made no attempt to stop me.
In fact, she moved closer to me until my arm could reach around her waist and her head rested on my chest.
“Any other statistics you want to share?” she mumbled, now sleepy from the sun and… other activities.
“Always,” I answered. “Like, did you know, I have now joined the 54% of people who have slept with a coworker?”
“Fascinating. Was it worth it?” she chuckled, having already known my answer.
“Yes,” I told her, anyway. But the way I always did when it came to sharing statistics, I couldn’t stop myself. “Although, there is a smaller subset of that group that’s even more interesting.”
She gasped, quickly pressing her fingers to my lips to stop me from ruining her moment.
“Let me guess—at least half of them fucked in the office,” she said.
And in that quiet, private moment, the only thing more beautiful than her hopeful smile was the fact she’d gotten it right.
“You are, without a doubt, the most attractive woman I’ve ever met in my life,” I confessed.
She gave her wholehearted admission that she felt the same in the best way she could.
With a cheeky smile and the utmost sincerity, she asked, “What are the odds of that?”
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(Tell me what you thought about this fic here!)
Looking for another mutual pining summer-themed fic? Check out my 11.2k oneshot Lost Time, where Reader and Spencer spend their mandatory leave taking the Spring Break Spencer never got to have. 
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Reid Taglist: @mrs-dr-reid , @dreatine , @hopefulfangirl24 , @laurakirsten0502 , @dontcallmekittens , @rintheemolion , @andreasworlsboring101 , @imsuperawkward , @wentz2005 , @lovejules888 , @dashneydanger , @materialisthicc , @violetspoetic , @mslowlife , @conniesanchor , @trippol-threat , @will-byers-needs-a-hug , @poo-tay-toot , @bookobsessedfreak
Complete Taglist: @cynbx , @emsma11 , @mediocre-writer , @fightingdragonswithwho , @andiebeaword , @jayyeahthatsme , @pepperthealien
Thanks for reading!
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youuuimeanmee · 4 months
Text
Get ready with me to be surprised with
✨️Anya's Origin✨️
Hint: Romania
I had some free time, so I reread the latest chapter of Spy x Family, chapter 92.
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Barbara said she and Sigmund were in Covenia for awhile. We know Westalis and Ostania are a reference for the West Germany and Eastern Germany, so I wondered if Covenia is based on a real place too. I was bored, y'see.
I quick-searched a country name that ended with -nia, but no luck.
I remembered a theory that Anya is more superior in Classical languange because she might've come from a place that uses that languange. A wild idea popped up to me that Covenia still uses (or references) that language. Since Sigmund has many classical books, it's not a stretch to assume he learned that language because he used to live in Covenia. Based on that assumption, I searched what country is still using Latin languange, what languange that references Latin.
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... bingo.
Covenia and Romania. Who would've thought.
I searched where is Romania located because my geography sucks.
Oh it's in Europe, great! And it's close with Ukraine too, Russia...
Wait. I thought the story is based in the '60s, so, could they be related at that time?
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Wow, so they ARE related.
And the timeline matched with SxF's world too.
When I clicked the "Romania" word, I stumbled on this.
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.....
Could it be,
Anya originally comes from Covenia, which is a reference to Romanian People's Republic?
Does it mean the organization that experiment on Anya is based in Soviet?
And to think that Sigmund, a well-known neurology professor, used to rehabilitate wounded soldiers in Covenia... Is it really a rehabilitation though?
*cold sweat*
Anyways.
If Anya really comes from Covenia/Romania, the initial spelling of her name would make sense then, but I have zero idea about Romanian alphabet to confirm it.
Of course I searched it.
The Romanian alphabet is a variant of the Latin alphabet used for writing the Romanian language. It is a modification of the classical Latin alphabet and consists of 31 letters, five of which (Ă, Â, Î, Ș, and Ț) have been modified from their Latin originals for the phonetic requirements of the language
Oh shoot it's getting warmer.
Double check to make sure, I tried to look if [î] is really the replacement alphabet for [y].
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OH SHIT.
K, Q, W and Y, not part of the native alphabet, were officially introduced in the Romanian alphabet in 1982.
Now it makes sense. No wonder Anya spelled her name like that.
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It's because in the place where she came from, the alphabet Y wasn't used yet. And it's not supposed to be Ania either; it's Anîa. But I doubt a small child like her would understand the difference between i and î.
Summary:
Anya might've come from Covenia/Romania. It explains her initial name and her excellence in Classical language.
The organization that experimented on Anya might've come from the Soviet.
Sigmund might have some connections with Anya more than we thought; the theories were right on track. Because he studies neurology and lived in Covenia for some time, he is fluid in Classical languange and he knows how to make learning more fun.
I wanted to try searching what kind of brain-related research did Soviet do at that time, but then I might come up with lobotomy or some dark shit and I'm not prepared for that, so I'm gonna let the sleeping dogs lie until we get more informations from Endo.
Annd that's it. I'm very surprised with this finding. My quick 5-minutes search turned into 2-hours brainrot. And my hands are still cold. I'm not sure if it's intentional from Endo or it's just some happy coincidence, but at least I'm more aware with Covenia now.
Thank you for following me in this short journey! Byee 👋
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risingoftime · 8 months
Text
INTRUDER 🕷 HOBIE BROWN
a/n: my inbox for requests is now closed! I have quite a bit that I need to catch up on. if you already sent one in, don’t worry I’ll be working on it! ₊˚⊹ 18+
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During exam season, you have had one of the most stressful times of the year. Hobie was supposed to come over to celebrate completing your last exam, yet you haven’t heard from him since noon. Hobie had always been a shite texter. It was now closer to midnight, and although this wasn’t surprising, you still worried if he was okay. Music blasted throughout your bathroom, drowning out your thoughts as you entered your bedroom to change. Without looking, you collided with a body, causing your towel to drop to the floor. 
Hobie stared at your naked body in complete awe. He innocently went into your bedroom to surprise you with food but walked in on you exiting the bathroom instead. Hobie wasn't sure if he should avert his eyes or simply run out of the flat. Your facial expression mirrored his complete and utter shock. It took everything in Hobie not to let his eyes wander over your perky breasts and supple skin. 
“Hobie, look away, damn it!” You shrieked. Your face felt hot with embarrassment from watching his eyes grow with lust. Hobie looked up to the ceiling as you rushed to grab a robe. “Sorry, I couldn’t help myself! Just forget I’ve seen you naked before,” he declared. But, the image was now implanted into his brain. The way your skin glowed from your favourite lotion, the sweet scent radiated off of you. The smell itself enticed Hobie, making him needy for more. He felt his dick harden at the thought of you being naked in the same room as him. Very aware that the tent in his pants was prominent enough to be noticed by you. Fuck it. Hobie turned to watch you as you slid on the black silk robe. In such a rush, you didn’t bother to put anything on underneath. He tried his hardest not to think about how easy it would be for the robe to slip off.
“You could’ve called!” 
“Could’ve, but where’s the fun in that?” Hobie smirked. If he had called you earlier, Hobie wouldn’t have been able to glimpse the beautiful body you hid underneath your usual attire. Sweatpants and an oversized tee, in his opinion, that’s when Hobie found you the prettiest. Although it wasn’t his intention, the sight of your nude body topped everything. 
Better than he had imagined in the late nights when he had felt alone. Hobie knew harbouring such feelings for his best friend wasn't right. Yet it wasn’t like he could control it… or at least that’s what he had told himself. Clearing your throat brought him to reality, and Hobie realized he was staring. 
“This is not a free show,” you stated. Although your voice appeared confident, your body language told another story. Hobie analyzed your inability to keep eye contact and the conscious placement of your arms across your chest to hide your erect nipples. He placed the pizza box on your desk, “Does food count as payment?”  Hobie joked in an attempt to break the ice. He always knew how to make light of any situation, especially one like this. 
“It depends. Did you order pineapple on it?” 
“Yeah, only half. I know how picky you can be.” He noticed your wandering gaze from the pizza box to himself. Hobie wasn’t gullible. He noted how your eyes paused on the growing tent in his pants. A mixture of curiosity and lust swirled in your expression. The tension in the air was palatable; you could practically taste it. You wondered how it would feel to take Hobie into your mouth and taste his cum. Hobie licked his pierced lips, sharing the same sentiment. You cleared your throat and lightly shook your head, failing to shake off the lewd thoughts that littered your mind. “That’s good 'cause I’m starving!” Your voice came out a pitch too high and louder than anticipated. 
Hobie watched as you walked towards the desk, towards him. When your body brushed the front of Hobie’s pants, his hand gripped your hip, keeping you in place. The thrum of your heartbeat overtook your senses, and all your mind could focus on was Hobie’s touch. The simple stroke of his fingertips toying with the loosely tied silk ribbon around your waist made it too easy to become enraptured. Hobie could hear your heartbeat thump loudly in your chest. 
“What are you doing?” You asked. 
“Admiring" was all Hobie said. 
You turned to face him with raised eyebrows, baiting him to continue. Hobie looked down at you and kept his hand firmly on your waist, bunching the fabric of your robe to one side. More of your skin is exposed for him to see. “Hey!” you exclaimed. 
“S’wrong? I’ll show mine if you show yours,” Hobie was needy and desperate to see your naked body, thrilled to take any chance to have you to himself. “Sit down on the chair,” you instructed softly, growing tired of him always making you flustered. The sudden change of attitude took Hobie aback, but didn’t object. In a swift motion, you removed your robe and climbed on top of your bed to face him, bare and vulnerable. 
“I want you to watch.”
“Just watch?” He sighed. 
You simply nodded, unsure if you could trust your voice to come out. This was a first for both of you, and you didn’t want to lose momentum. With open legs, use one hand to slowly glide your fingers down your lower stomach until they graze your clit. Your eyes remained on Hobie as he shifted in his seat, trying to ignore his aching desire. You rolled your hips against your hand, eliciting a low moan from your mouth, playing with the wet slickness that spilled in between your folds. “Such a pretty pussy,” Hobie groaned. The sight of you touching yourself made him feel hot and heavy. Hobie’s dick throbbed against his jeans, practically begging to be handled—a sweet punishment for walking in on you. He dutifully watched as you worked up your nerves, edging to climax. Observing your fingers gliding in and out of your pussy as your breathy moans echoed throughout the bedroom. The sound of your orgasm erased everything. Hobie couldn’t think of anything else, but he had wanted to illicit such a reaction. 
“Please,” Hobie whimpered. 
“Please, what? Use your words.” The shift in power dynamics ignited a fire within you. You didn’t know that Hobie could be submissive and utterly vulnerable, a side of him you had not seen before. “Please… let me fuck you” Hobie’s voice was barely above a whisper; it was unfamiliar territory for him to plead. Hobie might like to be in control, ahead of everyone except you. He relinquishes all restraint. A thin line he rarely crosses. Narrowing your eyes on Hobie, you don’t dare break eye contact as his dark gaze tracks your every move towards him. “Not yet,” you command. 
Getting down on your knees, you separate Hobie’s legs and settle yourself in between them. Your hands graze his thighs, slowly moving upwards and closer to his crotch. Unbuckling his studded belt, you tease him by stroking his cock through his boxers, lightly gripping around his thick girth. You can feel his dick jerk under your fingers as Hobie tries to hold back his sensitive nerves from making him finish in his pants. The mere sight of you bent down in front of him with his dick in your hand was doing him wonders. Your curls were expertly slicked back into a bun so he could see your dark brown eyes as your tongue swirled around his tip. Licking off the pre cum that coated Hobie’s skin before taking the head of his dick in your mouth.
“Agh fuck baby,” Hobie groaned. You took all of him in as he moaned loudly and convulsed in your mouth, reaching the back of your throat. You pull back up and wrap your hands around the base of his length, groping Hobie before swallowing him again. Your head bobbed as Hobie thrust into your mouth, unable to hold back. He was practically spilling onto your tongue. Hobie’s hands gripped the chair handles while keeping eye contact with heavy-lidded eyes. Dangerously close. “God-“ Hobie couldn’t hear anything else above you sloppily slurping his dick.  His whines did nothing but encourage you to suck harder. Your pussy pulsed around empty space, desperate to feel him.
Yet you remained patient, craving for Hobie to melt on your tongue. “I’m gonna- babe, I’m gonna come,” Hobie rasped. His hand-drawn to support the back of your neck as he continued to fuck your mouth. Hobie’s skin was smooth and soft compared to the rest of him. The hardness of his desire twitched before releasing streams of cum down your throat. Hobie let out a broken gasp as he continued to look down on you, watching with parted lips in the form of an “o.” Hobie’s eyes alluded to one thing: pure lust. His gaze ignited a fire inside you that you didn’t even know was lit. He lowered his head to brush his lips against yours before deepening the kiss. Hobie only paused to lift you off your knees and onto his lap to straddle his waist. His warm member is still slick with your spit as your folds glide along his length. 
You could hear Hobie’s staggered breath against your ear as he tried to hold onto the little composure he had left. “You look so pretty with my dick in your mouth,” Hobie whispered. Your cheeks grew hot from his bluntness. Feeling shy from his words was ridiculous when your actions earlier were nothing but innocent. Hobie kissed you intensely as if he believed you would’ve vanished before him. His tongue was demanding yet soft against yours, tasting himself with visor. Hobie’s hands gripped your ass while he moved his hips up to meet your core. He moaned into your mouth from feeling your wet pussy on his dick. The feeling of his cock becoming hard sent shivers throughout your body.
“I’m tired of waiting; I need you inside me.” It hadn’t mattered how close you were to each other. Your bodies still leaned in for more. Never enough. Your heart beats fast against your chest, loud enough that you are sure Hobie could hear it with anticipation of him aligning himself to slide inside you. You watch his abs flex beautifully underneath you.  He had wanted this, and God knows how bad he craved to feel your tight pussy wrap around him. Hobie’s body had gone still once you took in his full length, a stillness that only he could evoke. Taking it all in, silently admiring and immortalizing the outline of your curves as you sat on top of him. 
“Fuck, you’re so, ah-” Hobie was at a loss for words once you began to grind yourself up and down. His eyes rolled back, blissed out. No one has seen this vulnerable side of him but only you. Hobie cursed under his breath, holding you in place to feel the depth of each stroke. Both of you are in perfect sync. You thought him everywhere as he positioned himself to thrust into you vigorously from below. Slower and harder. Your walls clenched as your core tightened. “Say my name when you cum” Hobie rasped. Every tingling sensation sent you screaming and pleading for more of him. More of anything that he would provide, you would selfishly take it. Concentrating with one of his hands on your waist and the other groping your breasts was hard. As ecstasy rippled through, your fingers dug into his shoulders to steady yourself.
“Hobie!” You moaned. The sound of your wet pussy and Hobie’s whimpers filled the room. His hips stuttered, but his movements didn’t subside while he continued to push you further. Hobie bit his lip at seeing you undone on his dick. He wouldn’t be able to get the image out of his head. His eyebrows drew together in deep focus. He was holding back. “Let it out. Come inside me.” Hobie’s eyes met yours before his lips came over yours again, fierce and thorough. Pushing forward towards his own pleasure, beyond his own control. The sound that escaped his mouth could only be described as lewd. Hobie buried himself inside you, filling your pussy with his cum. The warmth of him dripped inside as you rode out the final waves like an aftershock. It never mattered how many times you fucked. You always craved him even more than the last time. To hear him sigh your name like a dying prayer.
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navigation | hobie request ₊˚⊹
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sh1-n0bu · 4 months
Note
can i request something?? can you do modern relationship with scara??
✿ 𝒊𝒕’𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝑰 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖! ✿
characters: modern!scaramouche x nb!reader
warnings: modern au!!!, fluff, crack, my poor attempt at humor, scara has a bad relationship with his moms, written with high school au in mind, scara being bad at feelings, headcannon format, raiden shogun goes as raiden shino since shogun is a title rather than a name and all…
notes: when that one song u used to religiously listen to when u were younger and cringier suddenly comes rushing back in for a fic idea
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oh dear gods, where do we even begin with this one?
tsundere to the max and we all know, his moms knows it, you know it, the entire school knows it, even the online friends he plays games with knows it
which explains on how you knew that scaramouche had a crush on you the moment he started showing small signs of it. waaaaayyyy before he even understood his own emotions and feelings and came to terms with it
safe to say, he is super easy to read. like, a motherfuckin open book that’s full of illustrations made for kids. at least, that’s how it feels to you anyways
has a bad relationship with both of his mothers and his older sister but at least he tolerates his older sister better than his mothers, which is a good thing. at least he has someone to turn to when something goes wrong
him, his mom ei and his older sister are carbon copies of each other alongside his aunt. the first time you went over to scara’s place to prepare for an upcoming exam, you almost got whiplash from just how many similar purple people were there
like… low-key concerning with how you easily mistook his mom ei with his aunt or his older sister with his mom ei
safe to say you made a fool out of yourself for the first few meetings with his family
his other mom, miko, is very… eccentric to say the least. teasing, sly, quick-witted, charming and charismatic. you and scara joke around that miko was a fox or a demon in her former life
his older sister, shino, is quite the sweetheart one the other hand. quiet, reserved, socially awkward and friendly if you go over how her normal face looks so emotionless and dead. reminds you of a soldier or a puppet with how shino is so willing to fulfill ei’s wishes or words to the T
his aunt, baal, is an absolute sweetheart. the ultimate sweetheart actually. such a sweet woman she is with her soft words, warm smiles and motherly affections. she offered you a hand-made cookie when you were about to leave simply because you were scara’s friend!
yes, you cried to the amount of kindness and scara made fun of you for it
you would never peg someone as mean, introverted and arrogant as scaramouche to be friends with the popular, soccer kid from school did ya’? well you are wrong because scara and childe are best friends!!! as childe claims
the ginger-head made a bet with scaramouche saying that you two’s friendship won’t last. cue scaramouche and his over competitive ass coming over and latching himself to you to make sure that your friendship would last
AKA childe’s plan to make scaramouche realize his feelings and come to terms with it has officially started!
likes to occasionally play video games such as wuthering waves, minecraft, resident evil, silent hill etc etc. hates first person shooter games cuz it’s so not his style and he hates the annoying boys that he comes across during the game
will never say it nor mention it but sometimes he plays those ‘using not a single part of your brain’ type of games like playing as dentists or doctors. hell, he even likes to play dress up games from time to time. he just loves the aesthetics and the different designs of the clothes, itches that inner aesthetic lover part of him. but he will NEVER mention it or be caught playing it. scaramouche would rather die
something tells me that his music taste would be more leaning into electronic or scene music. odetari, 6arelyhuman, kets4eki — you name it. sometimes, enjoys those gentle and soothing sounding anime openings too
he has sanrio plushies. more specifically, hello kitty ones
had an obsession with the cute white cat growing up and he never grew out of it
the moment he first found out that you like plushies or pink things or sanrio related things, he knew he gotta gift you anonymous sanrio gifts on your birthday or on special occasions. it was his early stages of courting you
was absolutely appalled when he was found out because whaddaYA MEAN HE LIKES SOFT AND THOSE STUPID PLUSHIES AND SANRIO RELATED THINGS?! NUH-UH, YOU MUST’VE SAW A DIFFERENT PURPLE HAIRED, BOWL HAIRCUT HAVING GUY CUZ SCARAMOUCHE WOULD NEVER LIKE THOSE STUPID THINGS!!!
he aint fooling anyone
takes his relationship slow since he has some big trust issues yet also attachment issues. pick a struggle tbh
had a panic attack after he officially, finally, after years of crushing on you, like literally acting like your boyfriend years later when he asked you out on a date because woohoo!! he asked you for a date \(^ヮ^)/\(^ヮ^)/ but also shit, what type of a first date would you like ლಠ益ಠ)ლლಠ益ಠ)ლ
yeah, he had to do something he hated the most. ask his moms and sister for advice
after a lot of talk, discussions, secretly stalking your social profiles or you in general to see what you would like, scaramouche decided to take you out for an arcade date
you two had fun, he was glad you had fun, played bunch of different games together and even managed to win a cute matching plushies and keychains!! kuromi for him and melody for you. he was so glad that you liked it but he won’t say it out loud
walked you home after your first date, to your front door and bid you good night and “hope you had fun tonight, idiot” chu!! on your cheek before making a mad dash back home
the type of boyfriend who would lovingly bully you
“why the fuck are you wearing that? it’s making your stupid face look cuter than normal”
“who in their right mind would choose the green one? yellow looks better on you. no, the soft pastel one, not the bright one you idiot”
“you wanna die? who said i was ever gonna stop loving you after you turn into a roach? i’m gonna keep you in a special glass case until you change back dumbass”
yeah… just say you love them already, scara
your contact name on his phone is literally my idiot٩(╬ʘ益ʘ╬)۶
would lovingly call you names as he leaves soft kisses on your face
“you’re a fucking idiot but it’s fine, you’re my idiot”
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yuri-is-online · 1 month
Note
Hey, Yuri, do you think Yuu would ever run the risk of being put in danger by having a romantic relationship with any of the more high-profile members of the cast? I mean, we’ve got royalty, nobility, celebrities, and the very wealthy attending this school. I’ve just been rotating my brain about how these relationships would work out and Yuu is a pretty vulnerable target without NRC’s security. - 🦐
Hmmmmmm. I have a bunch of thoughts about this actually... I tried ranking them from least to most dangerous if that makes sense? But don't read too deeply into the bullet point placements they were mostly just a stream of consciousness thing.
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Not that Risky (surprisingly)
Leona- we don't really have details about his brother's marriage, but I don't think his family has been shown to be overly keen on forming alliances with outside countries, the Savannah seems more concerned with itself. I don't think his family would be too fussed with his partner being a magicless person from outerspace, if anything this might be seen as a plus to the councilors that are always mocking Leona behind his back as his partner's lack of royal blood makes him even less fit for the throne. Not to mention Leona himself is more than enough to protect Yuu, he's the only royal at the school without a proper retainer (which you could argue is because no one at home likes him) but I doubt his family would let him do that if he was genuinely in danger.
Rook- he's Rook. His family does sound rather sweet from the very very very little we know about him (he also seems like he was kind of sheltered as a kid, something I should chew on sometime) so I doubt they would allow anything too bad to happen to Yuu.
Vil- his main issue is his contract, the Japanese Idol industry is cut throat and often sees things like bans on relationships as part of the contract. Vil doesn't want to risk his career or reputation, he mentions that he himself is a brand and I can't see him wanting to put that pressure on Yuu if they're not up for it. But... there are also celebrities who have really private personal lives and I sort of get the sense Vil is like that? And I don't think he would be too bothered if Yuu didn't want to be super public, it would certainly make it easier to keep you safe.
Idia- S.T.Y.X. might be a gloomy place but no one knows where it is
Medium Danger (danger is real but can be managed)
Jade and Floyd- we don't actually know what their family does, just that it's probably sketchy and that Mama Leech calls them every day, taught them self defense, and just generally seems to worry about them a lot. The danger is very real under the sea, but I also sort of get the sense that messing with the Leech family is skipping the fuck around and going straight to find out.
Azul- his business is going to make him enemies sooner or later, but at least during school Yuu should be more or less safe. Azul's able to keep on top of the students who mean Yuu harm, and Yuu is able to politely ignore their boyfriend's business (or maybe they have a knack for helping?) When you get older I can see Azul's need for a security team expanding, but he'll have money to get the best.
Riddle- ok so. I don't think his mom would try to kill you. But god she would be such a toxic person to manage. I'm actually working on a (very old) request atm that involves discussing what Riddle's mom might do if she finds Riddle with a partner instead of his studies (which I assume she's paying for) especially during his internship. She'd go full scorched earth and get very confused when Yuu doesn't back off like Trey did.
Huston We Have a Problem
Kalim- the amount of assassination attempts my poor boy has already canonically endured... I imagine there are probably going to be more in his future. I can see Yuu needing their own retainer (which could be a fun concept for an oc) to protect them and test their food. When Grim becomes a great mage I'm sure he could help with that actually, wouldn't that be cute?!
MALLEUS- acceptance of humans is virtually non existence in Briar Valley AND his mother hated humans so much she "blessed" her child to only be loved by fae. We don't actually know how the senate works but I imagine they would lose their ever loving shit if Malleus brought home a human as a friend and now he wants to make them his spouse? No. They say no. Time to show them what an absolute monarchy means I guess.
Assuming Yuu isn't in a relationship with Malleus I could see their friendship actually sort of being a boon to them, especially if Yuu was with Kalim or Azul. Pissing of the merchants is one thing, but the King of the Abyss? No thank you, they'll just take their losses and go.
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impishjesters · 6 months
Text
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Agents of Cat-astrophe
warning(s): none unless you count Jax note(s): This gave me a good chuckle as someone who's consistently dropping more curse words than regular words, I'd imagine the system to just censor anything and everything that comes out of my mouth at that point. A/N: (In response to the requester) I wish I was taking breaks (I mean I am sorta), I'm fully aware I'm running myself ragged right now. But it's hard for me to stop myself... I'm caffeinated and chaotic and I don't wanna stew in my brain for too long. At least I get up and stretch every now and then. Request: Anyways, I’m requesting a Jax x reader (crushing stage) where the reader is sorta at the same level of meanness as Jax and likes to do pranks with him on the other characters. Also the reader’s digital form is a short cat that at first glance makes them look nice/friendly (obviously not an actual cat but yk what I mean), and they have a sailor’s mouth that is unfortunately censored but that doesn’t stop them (can also purr and does so when they’re content which is usually when there chilling in Jax’s room or with Jax in general). I think it would be fun if the reader surprisingly was sorta nicer to Kinger and has a small soft spot for him and does more playful pranks on him than mean/harmful ones.
When you first showed up, you looked so small and frail, like a literal little kitten completely out of place in this big colourful nightmare world
Ragatha thought you’d be like Pomni, and boy howdy was she wrong
You just ended up being another Jax—who you later met and found out was also an agent of chaos
Similarly to Pomni you cursed up a storm when you first arrived and the endless censorship that came with it
You have a knack for testing Caine’s patience when it comes to your sailor’s mouth, much to Jax’s entertainment. It’s not every day Caine loses his cool like that and you’re just a newbie, needless to say, you caught his interest
That sailor’s mouth also gets used towards the other’s and Jax won’t lie and say it’s not funny because shit’s hilarious.
Sure they all curse from time to time, but you just laid out an entire sentence that was completely and utterly censored. Like the system said “fuck this I’m gonna censor the whole damn sentence”
Unlike Jax who doesn’t show any remorse for who he pranks or how cruel they are, you draw the line at messing with Kinger.
Okay, that’s a lie you still mess with him but it’s not like how you mess with the others. Kinger has this sweet unstable dad/grandpa vibe and it kind of makes the place more homey in a weird way. (plus that man has been through enough trauma, give him a break, and talk about his bug collections or some shit)
The upside is that his mind is so scattered sometimes that using the same pranks on him always results in something hilarious. So you really don’t need to try for any new material. (he also really needs to consider actually using the lock on his door, he makes it too easy)
Jax considered you his little partner in crime the more time passed—not exactly a friend nah, but like a good ol pal that also likes to partake in joining him and his bullshittery
The first time he hears you purring is when the two of you are lazing about in his room, he’d gotten distracted collecting things for a prank on someone and heard the loudest rumbling coming from behind him
“Are you fucking purring?”
It’s a little embarrassing at first, you’ve uh, never done that before..
Jax has the biggest shit-eating grin, if he wasn’t using dumb cat-themed nicknames before he sure as hell is now
“Oh, like you don’t stomp your feet like a petulant child you overgrown rabbit.”
He does not stomp his fuckin feet like a temperamental rabbit, thank you very much (that’s a fuckin lie if I ever heard one)
Jax already had mixed feelings about you before, nothing particularly bad, just feelings he couldn’t place…that was until the prank…
He doesn’t know how you did it, or how he got so wrapped up in it. But you pranked him, and you pranked him good.
Oh, oh okay that feeling is new… butterflies don’t typically belong inside your gut, now whether Jax has ever experienced a crush before or not is probably beyond him. But these little butterflies are a bitch and it takes awhile of placing two and two together to realize he’s… caught feelings to some degree
You, however, probably had a crush on him for a while, perhaps really noticing it after the whole purring fiasco when you learned that it only happened around Jax
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cuubism · 2 months
Text
Computation
part 7 of Complex Mathematics
(aka Dream vs Technology -- Technology: 1, Dream: 0)
------------
Wednesday, 3:54am
Hob. what is the wifi password?
3:56am: why are you texting me when I’m in the same house?
3:57am: I did not want to wake you up.
4:00am: ……….
4:01am: Ah.
4:03am: it’s 12345. which is terrible security by the way
4:04am: how do i know this and you don’t? we’re in YOUR flat
4:05am: Computers are your friends, not mine.
4:10am: It does not like the password.
4:12am: alright i’m getting up
Dream creeps back into the living room, holding a cup of tea, as Hob’s tinkering with the router. Turns out it needed to be completely reset before he could reconnect it to Dream’s laptop. Not that this is that hard, but for some reason Hob doesn’t understand, technology is simply out of Dream’s grasp. Head in the clouds, too smart for basic computer skills, etc etc.
“A peace offering,” Dream says, placing the tea on the coffee table. He perches on the couch beside where Hob’s leaning over the router on its spot on the bookshelf.
“I’m not mad at you,” Hob says. He pats the router as its indicator lights finally turn green again. “I will take tea, though.”
“I woke you,” Dream says softly.
“You’ve woken me before, you will again,” Hob says with equanimity. Their sleep schedules are out of alignment, it tends to happen.
It’s the wrong thing to say, though. Dream cringes, hands folding in his lap. “I should be able to handle such things.”
“It’s just the wifi.” Hob finally finishes reconnecting Dream’s laptop and turns properly towards him. Dream still looks guilty about it. Sometimes Hob misses the time before they were dating, when Dream would bristle at him instead of caving. Just because he doesn’t like seeing Dream feel bad.
He takes the cup of tea and places it in Dream’s hands instead, briefly wrapping their hands around each other. “It’s okay,” he repeats. Possibly they should have a longer conversation about it, but Hob’s not emotionally awake enough for it.
Instead, he gets up and heads for the kitchen to put on some coffee. He needs something with more caffeine in it than tea.
“What are you doing?” Dream asks.
“Might as well get something done while my brain is online,” Hob says. He goes to fetch his own laptop from Dream’s bedroom. Lord knows it’ll need to get reconnected to the glitchy wifi again, anyway.
~~
Friday, 2:05pm
Hob.
2:06pm: ?
2:07pm: The wifi is angry again.
2:09pm: did you antagonize it?
2:09pm: hang on did you just wake up now?
2:10pm: I cannot comment.
2:12pm: I assume you have been hard at work in the library since six.
2:14pm: more like hardly working in the library. i did make an app that gives you a gold star every time you do the laundry
2:16pm: Will that assist in your routines?
2:17pm: probably not but it’ll be fun for 5 minutes
2:17pm: wifi password’s still 12345
2:18pm: maybe I should make an app for that instead…
2:20pm: I do not think it would help.
2:30pm: …You are not trying to make said app, are you?
2:34pm: nope just realized I’m late for a class and had to scramble out of there. I’ll be back later can do couples counseling for you and wifi then?
2:35pm: Very well.
For a while after putting down his phone, Dream stares at the wifi router in vexation, as if that will possibly make the angry red lights turn green again. He doesn’t know what he’s done wrong. He knows even less what to do to fix it.
He needs the wifi operational to keep generating these fractals. He supposes he could go to the library and use university wifi, but that requires going out in public, which is preferably avoided, at least while he’s trying to work. So he will have to do something else until Hob gets back from class.
He recalls what Hob had said. That instead of working on his dissertation he had made an entire phone app about laundry. He had said it so casually, like it was a doodle to pass the time. Dream can use apps—barely—but he cannot begin to fathom how he would go about making one. Hob does not understand how even in his procrastination he is exceptional.
Well. This is something that Dream can do. Hob hates doing laundry—hence the app-based reward system—but Dream doesn’t mind. He finds it meditative. He will have to be more precise about fabric care instructions now, as while his own clothes rarely range beyond grey, black, and dark blue, Hob actually wears colors which might bleed into each other.
He puts on his headphones with some music, gathers up the laundry from the bedroom, and goes about his routine.
When Hob gets back, Dream has finished hanging the laundry to dry and returned to his contemplation of the router, this time still with his headphones playing. He’s lost in thought, and doesn’t notice Hob’s come in until his hand lands on Dream’s shoulder. Normally a sudden touch when he’s thinking would make him jump, but he’s become used to Hob.
“Trying to solve your marital problems through telepathy?” Hob asks.
“We were never married,” Dream says. “Indeed we are enemies.”
Hob laughs. He kisses Dream on the cheek, then kneels in front of the router. “You have to stop tormenting my boyfriend,” he tells it. It only blinks back at him innocently.
Hob can be very silly at times. “I do not think arguing with the inanimate object will help,” Dream says.
“You never know.” Hob takes the router down and sets about unplugging all the cables. Dream still doesn’t know what any of them precisely do, nor how wifi works. It may as well be magic.  
Hob has it fixed within minutes, of course. Far more effective than Dream’s intense staring. He gets Dream’s laptop reconnected, and Dream is finally able to start generating his fractal. “Thank you,” he says.
“Anything for my love,” says Hob, getting to his feet again. “Guessing you want some time to yourself now to work on this?”
“Yes,” says Dream, with some guilt. Hob has come home to help him only for him to immediately bury himself in his work again. But yes, he does want to make progress on this at last.
“Well, good,” says Hob, and Dream turns to him in surprise. “Because I’m due for a nap.”
Dream still hasn’t formulated a response to this by the time Hob’s disappeared into his bedroom. Strange, that their routines can be so opposite and still meld together so well.
Hob pokes his head back out into the hall. “Did you do the laundry?”
“Yes,” says Dream.
“I could kiss you,” Hob declares, then blows one to him before disappearing back into the bedroom.
Dream presses his hand to his cheek, as if to touch a kiss that had really landed there. Smiles to himself. Then goes back to his fractal.
~~
Monday, 5:02pm
Hob.
5:03pm: Wifi?
5:04pm: …Yes.
Thursday, 9:50pm
…..Hob.
9:50pm: I’m sitting right next to you.
9:51pm: ….
9:51pm: I’m just gonna get you a new router. This thing’s got problems.
9:52pm: I think it is I who has the problems.
9:52pm: That too.
Saturday, 6:00pm
Hob.
6:00pm: Is it broken AGAIN??
6:01pm: No. I got dinner.
6:02pm: Oh!
6:02pm: Fuck I’m starving.
6:03pm: Coming back from class now.
6:03pm: Don’t touch the router it’s in a fragile mental state.
6:04pm: Aren’t we all.
~~
Thursday, 3:50pm
This time, it is the wifi in Hob’s flat that is stymieing Dream. He does not think it is broken. Hob has merely changed the password, as he’s much more diligent about internet security than Dream, and then forgotten to tell Dream what it is. Or, more likely, correctly assumed Dream would have to ask him again anyway.
He briefly contemplates trying to deduce the password, but it is likely an incomprehensible string of characters that Hob would claim is ideal security precisely because of the impossibility of deducing it.
He refuses to text Hob about it again. Hob has a class to teach soon—Dream has his schedule memorized—Dream does not want to distract him. Though speaking of…
3:50pm: You have a class in ten minutes.
3:51pm: FUCK
3:51pm: I got distracted
3:53pm: Now… running
3:54pm: You are not near the building, are you.
3:55pm: NOPE
Dream smiles to himself, thinking of Hob sprinting across campus. It happens often. Hob is good at many things, but time management is not one of them. This is why Dream knows his schedule.
He does feel… a bit silly, though. He should be better at this, should he not? Less bothersome to Hob over small things that he should be able to handle.
Normally he would go back to his work to distract himself from these thoughts, but he still can’t work on his fractals without being able to connect remotely to the university computers, which are more powerful than his own. This is something Hob had also set up for him, because Dream had not been able to make any sense of the instructions he had been given for remote login, and the like.
Sighing, he instead takes his sketchbook out of his bag. It’s been a while since he’s made any time for drawing. But he had started looking at fractals in the first place to better understand patterns in art, to understand resonances between what occurred in nature and what was projected by mathematics. And drawing used to soothe him.
So he starts drawing, sketching the fractal he has been generating—to the extant that he can with the imprecise instrument of his pen. Even in infinite impossible digital form, the branching spirals eventually become too small for him to see, though he knows they continue on in perfect replication forever, smaller and smaller until they disappear into atoms. He cannot recreate that level of detail by hand. But he tries.
By the time he gets another text back from Hob, an hour later, he’s moved to the floor to have more space. He’s found a bigger piece of scrap paper and is drawing the fractal again, in more detail this time, color-coding the different shapes, free-handing where he should probably use a ruler for more precision. He has achieved several more levels of replication than before, but it is still not right. He can’t get it right. If he could only use the stupid computer system he could get it right.
Finally he looks at his phone, several minutes after the text alert pinged.
Thanks love 😘
Unexpectedly, it makes him tear up. Always this happens to him. He does not realize how frustrated he has become with himself until it is too late.
Of course, to only make matters worse, he is still sitting hunched on the floor, pen clasped tight in his hand, teeth clenched so hard it’s hurting his jaw, when Hob comes through the door. He must have texted not far from home.
“Hey, love,” Hob’s already saying as he comes through the door, “meant to stop and grab dinner but I totally forgot— I’m sure I have something here, though— Dream?”
Dream hasn’t moved from the floor, or responded. Hob puts down his bag and comes over to him. He looks down at the fractal, which is still incomplete. “Did you draw that?”
“Obviously,” Dream bites. The pen is still in his hand. He drops it, scraping a hand through his hair. Great. Now he’s snapping at Hob, too.
Hob sits down on the floor beside him. He studies the fractal. Then points to one of the shapes that Dream’s colored in red. “That’s supposed to be purple.”
Dream stares at the fractal. Hob is right, it is meant to be purple. According to the way Dream had color-coded it digitally. He looks at Hob. “How do you know that?”
“I’ve watched you fiddling with it enough. We set it up on your laptop, remember?”
Yes. Dream remembers. He remembers how Hob had helped him.
“Wifi giving you troubles again?” Hob asks, looking from the drawing, to Dream’s laptop, which is sleeping on the couch.
Dream nods, then saws quietly, “Are you not… frustrated with me? Annoyed?”
Hob doesn’t need to ask what he means. “Sometimes,” he says, and Dream can’t help his flinch. “So?”
“So?”
Hob shrugs. “I would have missed that class if you didn’t text me.”
Dream does not understand the relevance.
Hob looks up at him, raising an eyebrow in challenge. “Aren’t you annoyed with me?”
Perhaps he is, at times. Recently, Dream has been too absorbed in his project to feel much about it at all.
“I don’t know,” he says. “It is just how you are.”
Hob seems to think that Dream still doesn’t understand the point he’s making, and perhaps Dream doesn’t. Hob takes his hand. “Look. I’ve no idea why someone as smart as you are is constantly defeated by basic technology, but it doesn’t matter. Always having to be the one to fix the router is a small price to pay for having you in my life.”
Dream’s mouth opens, but no words come out. He… he does not know if anyone has ever put up with him with so little complaint. For truly, it is not only computer troubles. It is all the small things that stack upon each other to make him feel different and difficult.
“I find I do not like…” Dream admits tentatively, “when you must do these things. That I should be able to do.”
“You did the laundry the other day,” Hob says.
Why must he jump topics in this manner? “I do not understand.”
“Well, we don’t actually live together, you know. You have your own laundry. You don’t have to do mine, too.”
“I thought it would help you,” Dream says.
Hob just waits expectantly.
Dream looks down at his lap. “Ah. I… see.” Hob finds him frustrating at times, he had said so, but still wants to help him. He finds Hob’s admittance that Dream is frustrating to be a relief, in its way. He would only feel more on edge if Hob pretended otherwise, surely to snap later when Dream was least expecting it, as so many have done.
“Give me your arm,” Hob says then.
When Dream does, Hob pushes up his sleeve, takes one of the markers from the floor and writes on Dream’s forearm, the wifi password is I love you.
“There,” he says. “Now you won’t forget.”
Dream touches the words with a light fingertip. “This is not good internet security.”
“Oh, so you do listen my ramblings,” Hob says, laughing. Always, Dream thinks. “What, you’re going to throw out my valentine because I cut the heart out a little wonky?”
He makes as if to rub the marker off, and Dream pulls his arm protectively to his chest. Hob’s smile softens. He carefully pulls Dream forward into a hug, Dream’s arm pressed between them. Dream tucks his face into the crook of Hob’s neck. It’s one of his favorite places to hide.
“I’ll help you fix your program after we find some dinner,” Hob tells him, rubbing his back.
“I think I should give up on using computers,” Dream mumbles.
Hob chuckles. “See how you feel about it after I make you some brownies for dessert.”
Dream hums in pleasure at the thought, and Hob kisses the side of his head. And Dream touches, again, the words Hob’s written on his arm, where it’s pressed between them. And allows himself to smile.
Wednesday, 6:03pm
Dream is attempting to cook dinner. Hob doesn’t think it’s going so well. At least not if the blaring fire alarm, which Hob’s just silenced by waving a dish towel at it until the smoke dissipated, is any indication. But it does mean he’s been treated to the sight of Dream with his sleeves rolled up, delicate hands at work—and wearing an actual apron.
Having soothed the alarm, he leans against the counter so he can shamelessly ogle instead of helping.
“What are you even trying to make?” he asks, eyeing the still-smoking oven.
Dream pouts. “Only bread. It should not be so hard.”
“You didn’t wait for me to get home to watch?” He imagines the sight of Dream aggressively kneading the bread dough. It shouldn’t be a turn on, but it kind of is.
“You would make a spectacle of my misery?” Dream says, but there’s a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, like he knows exactly what Hob is thinking about.
“Definitely,” Hob says, and Dream sighs, but turns to take the attempt at bread out of the oven. It’s… pretty blackened, to be honest. “Butter’ll save it, I’m sure!” Hob says cheerfully.
“Nothing will save it,” says Dream, morosely. He pulls off his oven mitt in apparent disgrace, and— Hob catches his arm.
“How has this not faded yet?”
For Hob’s writing saying the wifi password is I love you is still on his forearm.
Dream looks sheepish. “I got it tattooed.”
Hob tilts his head at him, confused. “So you could remember the wifi password?”
“So that I could remember this.” He traces his finger over, I love you.
Hob feels a blush creep across his cheeks. But it’s a pleasant feeling. “This is not even my best handwriting.”
“I know,” says Dream. He does not seem unhappy about it.
Hob takes his arm, touches the words, too. “You could have just gotten this part done.”
“I think,” Dream says slowly, touching the part that says, the wifi password is, “that this is another form of the same.”
And Hob… finds himself tearing up a little. Because it’s true. It’s so silly that Dream, certifiable maths genius, struggles so much with basic computer skills. But Hob will do any silly thing for him, because he loves him.
“Yeah,” he says, taking a shaky breath. “It is.”
“Unfortunately, you can never change the wifi password now,” says Dream, and Hob laughs wetly.
“I really can’t, can I? Terrible security. The things I’ll do for you, darling.”
“Would that include making proper bread?” Dream asks, and Hob nods, patting his arm.
“We’ll fix it, don’t worry.”
Now he’s wondering how he didn’t notice Dream getting a tattoo. Though to be fair, they haven’t seen each other as much in the past two weeks as they usually would, thanks to very inconvenient scheduling. Apparently Dream’s taken advantage of that time to do this.
“Can’t let you out of my sight for a second,” he says, as he fetches a new bread pan from the cupboard. “God knows what you’ll come back with next.”
“Be careful or I will consider that a challenge,” Dream says, and Hob pauses as way too many images flash through his mind. He shakes them off. He’ll never be able to focus on anything like that.
And Dream, the bastard, is smirking.
“Watch that look on your face or you might find that flour you’re holding dumped over your head,” Hob warns, but Dream only looks victorious, and utterly uncaring of the bag of flour he's precariously picked up.
“How will you ogle me kneading the dough that way?”
Hob swipes a dish towel from the counter and throws it at him. Dream yelps and spills the flour, which poofs up in a cloud of white landing all over his black t-shirt.
“Hob,” he complains.
“Serves you right, you dickhead,” Hob says. It only returns the smirk to Dream’s face.
“If you feel that way perhaps I’ll decide I don’t need your supervision,” he says archly.
Hob tears a piece off of Dream’s first attempt at a loaf. Or rather, breaks off a piece, which is hard as stone. He shows it to him as evidence.
Dream snatches it and shoves it into his mouth. Bites down with a crunch so horrifying Hob’s afraid he’s broken a tooth. But Dream persists, chewing it painstakingly and then swallowing, as if by force.
“Taste good?” Hob asks.
“Yes—” Dream starts to insist—then dissolves into a fit of coughing that swiftly turns into giggles. Hob loves it so much when he laughs like that. It’s so rare.
Hob laughs with him. Then frees the crumpled bag of flour from Dream’s grasp and sets it aside, brushes the flour and crumbs from his shirt. Then he takes Dream’s arm and runs his fingertip over the words again, still in awe.
He again finds himself having to clear his throat to avoid tearing up. But he manages, and says, “Let’s get you some proper, not burnt bread, yeah?”
“Please,” says Dream, a tad sheepish. “I am… very hungry.”
Hob kisses his cheek, then goes about solving that problem, too.
232 notes · View notes
thenewrises · 3 months
Text
have more sleep deprived rambles about a vn (MDNI 18+)
so, with exploring dark romance vns i have been going through itch.io and discovered The Kid at The Back! i have so far enjoyed the plot and am excited to see where things will go, i adore the art style and of course… i am an emo lover. so! the author of the vn does not plan on spoiling anything as to keep us guessing on the lore but i thought i can at least compile everything we know so far in one place where i can update!
the author has also said they are not confirming theories or anything, so this is all food for thought rather than searching for confirmation. i just enjoy compiling info and sharing it so others who may enjoy lore can have something to read off from :)
tw: mentions of abuse, bullying, and violence
day 1 info
1. sol does not like hands on his neck. most likely something to do with his past or something, possibly an altercation with family since it seems he does not like “talking about his past” or his family
2. some sort of event in the past where sol met the mc. i think it was from childhood but i could not say the exact timing. but whatever it was, it made sol so dedicated to the mc that he literally thinks they are soulmates. some guesses: maybe we saved him from a bully in the past? maybe we stood up for him when no one else did? we shall find out!
3. sol always wears a necklace with a key on it, i’ve been wracking my brain to figure out where the key could go to. some guesses: our apartment, a box of something (maybe we gave him something he keeps locked up), a secret room where he keeps our things or something dedicated to us (since we know he does take stuff from us as momentos… like ok sol)
4. sol seems to come from a very well-off family to the point of bullying. he also probably get bullied for his style, but i think it also has to maybe do with family reputation. maybe the family is well-known in some area of the upper class/1%, or maybe the family is infamous for not great things/investments. we’ll learn as we go, but i can at least say with confidence that man has money
5. he does not like bruising on his face, becomes extremely insecure about it and even possibly humiliated. sad to say, i believe he may have experienced possible intense abuse from his family along with bullying. he has low self confidence or low sense of self, i think he thrives on being reassured. he is easily jealous and possessive (which is also a yandere trend) but i think it has to do with years of being overlooked, hurt, and ridiculed
conclusion and other sillies:
i think as days get released, i’ll add onto this or confirm anything we learn. i do believe crowe is the second love interest, which makes the most sense. i think crowe may have some unfinished conflict with sol or his family, but that’s more just a possibility i think about. crowe seems normal but idk… i also have some suspicions but what do i know!
i look forward to day 2/3 release, but remember to be patient! the author i’m sure is working hard, so let’s all patiently wait together and enjoy any side content we receive as we wait.
also fun side note, sol and i have some of the same piercings which was so funny to me (one of his ears has a double helix and three ear lobe piercings… like me…. goofy)
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queenimmadolla · 2 years
Text
𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐊
(young parents!Eddie Munson x fem!reader, SMUT)
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more adventures from the pennyverse can be found on my masterlist.
summary: . . . eddie helps you out when you’re struggling to feed your baby. It quickly leads to fucking.
warnings: lactation kink, smut, unprotected sex, p in v, creampie, fingering, breastfeeding, little bit of angst, whole lot of comforting.
a/n: based on this request, pls appreciate this, i learned too much about my older sister’s experiences to be as accurate as possible for you horndogs. and a HUGE thank you to @kitmon for beta-ing this monster! everyone say ‘thank you, junie!’
𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
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You hadn’t been able to do it for very long, but you definitely had a bone to pick with all of the distorted media; all of the stupid magazines, books, tv shows and movies that made breastfeeding seem like a walk in the park
Because it wasn’t.
Over the course of your pregnancy you had mainly been worried about whether your baby would accept your offered boob or not considering you’d been a bottle-fed baby, fussy and always refusing your mom anytime she tried. Penny wasn’t like you, though. She had no problem with your breasts or latching, she was essentially a pro at it and almost entirely chose to nurse by tit, meaning, she was almost constantly attached to your nipple.
That was now proving to be a problem. See, your chest was out of control. You were fine with your bra size before but, Jesus Christ, they nearly tripled in size to produce the amount of milk she needed! And that was when you were least engorged! You were shaped like Dolly Parton if Penny was away from you for too long.
It had also begun to hurt, badly. It was painful. They made it look all cutesy and sweet in the movies, a mother cooing gingerly and coddling her child close to her chest as they suckled, but milk— and enough to feed a seemingly always hungry baby— coming out of recently tender nipples not used to it was anything but a fun experience. For a good couple of weeks after having her, you cried during her feedings while she stared up at you with those thoughtless, doe-like eyes, oblivious to it all.
You could tell Eddie felt bad, but there wasn’t much he could do and, if you were being honest, it was definitely a stubborn pride thing on your end, not really wanting his help in the first place.
You could do it on your own. And, for a while, you did, until, suddenly, you couldn’t. 
Your right breast had been hurting more than the usual dull ache and Penny seemed to be unsatisfied with what her clouded baby-brain perceived to be meager portions, demanding more which she was given through a bottle. It didn’t take you long to figure out something was wrong and a quick visit to your doctor confirmed that something was, indeed, amiss. 
Mastitis; which was the fancy word for your milk duct (the terminology grossed you out) being clogged.
Your doctor gave you some medication, told you to keep pumping and to keep Penny on the swollen side for a longer amount of time during her feedings to encourage her to unclog it. She’d also recommended a third solution, but it was much too embarrassing for you to even consider. You could barely look her in the eyes as she described it and held your head down, avoiding her gaze on your way out of the exam room.
Eddie was playing with Penny when you stepped into your home, laying on the couch as he held her high above his face, lowering her to press a loud smacking kiss to her soft, chubby cheek before giving the other the same treatment.
She was delighted, letting out happy little squeaks and hiccups every time he brought her down to meet him. Despite the discomfort you were experiencing, it was impossible not to smile at the pair as the trill of her laughter flooded the living room along with Eddie’s contrasting chuckles, raspy in comparison to her’s.
Eddie’s head tilted to the side to get a good look at you as the front door clicked shut behind you, mouth breaking out into a grin. “Hi, babydoll. How’d it go? You okay?”
You had  shared some of what you were going through, but you hadn’t been completely transparent with him. It wasn’t out of fear of him judging you— you knew he’d never do that— it was just… embarrassing, and you didn’t even have a reason! It just was.
You set the paper bag containing your new prescription onto what little kitchen counter space you had before you walked over. Eddie shifted until he was sitting, cradling Penny in the crook of one of his arms. It looked like she was in position to fly, her tummy pressed against the palm of his hand. She seemed to be amused with it herself, toothless mouth wide open in a huge smile that showed off her gums and made way for drool to slip from the corner of her mouth. Her arms and legs kicked and waved, Eddie having to adjust his hold every few seconds as she fidgeted and wiggled like she was actually trying to flap them and take off.
“She gave me some stuff to take, told me to keep feeding Penny like normal and it should go away.” It wasn’t a complete lie. 
You didn’t dare mention the third solution she’d given you; one that she recommended more than the others as it usually produced an immediate result. But at what cost? 
Despite your embarrassment, it was still pretty difficult for you to keep anything from Eddie, so you reached for Penny and he let her slip from his arm easily as you brought her into yours, eager to distract yourself. When she turned her head to stare up at you, her gummy smile somehow managed to widen at your presence and you leaned forward to nuzzle your nose against her tiny button-like one. She giggled again before her mouth opened and she attempted to latch onto your nose, lips parting and smearing drool along the tip of your nose as she searched for a nipple that was most definitely not there.
Eddie laughed as he slipped a hand behind the back of your neck, massaging the tense muscles there, “I was gonna feed her just before you got here, want me to get a bottle ready or do you want to try?”
You knew he didn’t mean any harm by it, but a part of you still kicked yourself for your current inability to satisfy your daughter’s hunger.
“I’ll try.” You stood up, keeping a good hold on Penny as you disappeared into the bedroom, trying your hardest to ignore the hurt look on Eddie’s face as you did so.
Ever since your milk duct had gotten clogged, you’d taken to feeding Penny in private. It wasn’t like Eddie stared at you when you fed her but he didn’t mind watching. You knew he liked seeing you and Penny bond that way. Unfortunately, there wasn’t a whole lot of bonding going on anymore. You spent the majority of her feeding time trying to encourage her to suckle a little harder and getting frustrated when she wouldn’t. You didn’t want Eddie to see that, it’d break the illusion of you being the perfect mother.
And you didn’t want to disappoint Eddie. You felt like you were already disappointing Penny. 
“Okay, we can do this, Penny,” You sighed and smiled down at her as you kicked the door shut behind you, moving to climb onto the bed, mindful of Penny’s precious body in your arms. You sat with your back pressed against the headboard, legs criss-crossed as you unbuttoned your blouse as best as you could with only one free hand and fumbled to undo the latch holding the right cup of your nursing bra in place. “Just do your thing, baby. No pressure.” But pressure.
She latched onto you with no problem, the suction providing you with just a little bit of relief. It didn’t last long as the slow suckling begun producing a sharp pain that hurt more than not having her suckle at all. You huffed, breathing through the burn of it as you hitched her up a little, hoping the slight change in position would get her to try a little harder for her food. “C’mon, Penny. You gotta get it.”
Penny didn’t understand a word you were saying, pretty brown doe (perhaps cow like with the lack of attention behind them) eyes staring up at you as she continued suckling at her own pace, unaware of your suffering.
When that didn’t work, you tried re-positioning her again but, regardless of how you held her, she refused to try sucking any harder, and soon, you were blinking away tears of pain and frustration. After about thirty minutes of the fruitless attempt, you gave up, and pulled her off your chest.
Immediately, Penny began whimpering, face crumpling as you switched her onto your other side to hush her, tears openly trailing down your cheeks and chest rising and falling with your erratic hiccups. You couldn’t look down at her as she nursed, choosing instead to blink up towards the ceiling in an effort to keep the waterworks at bay and ignore the pain of your other breast as well as the sting of your own failure as a mother. You knew the moment she was done with your left breast, she’d still be hungry and would bawl with disappointment as she’d barely gotten anything from the right.
Sure enough, when Penny’s suckling became too much for your left breast and you knew she wouldn’t be getting much more out of it, you pulled her away and her whimpers started up again, tiny fists clenching in anger as she inhaled sharply with a wrinkled face. 
You felt defeated when she began to wail, mouth wide open, not to give you one of her precious smiles but to cry from her hunger. 
You cried with her, bringing a hand up to cover your face as the tears started to fall in thick droves. How could your own body fail you? How could you fail your own daughter? She wasn’t even a year old and you were already letting her down. Fuck, maybe you really weren’t ready to be a mother. 
You heard the bedroom door creak open but you didn’t bother looking up as you heard Eddie’s footsteps draw closer to you. You felt Penny’s weight being lifted away from her place in your lap and as soon as you heard her cries carry out into the living room, you curled up into a ball and wept as quietly as you could; from the still-throbbing pain and from the failure of it all.
The throbbing of your right breast became easy to ignore as your brain went numb, finally accepting defeat. 
There was nothing you could do. Maybe your fucking tit would fall off or explode or something but you didn’t care anymore. You sucked anyway and Penny would be happier nursing from a stupid plastic bottle.
You laid there for what felt like hours but was, likely, no more than one. Penny’s cries had stopped by then and you were sure Eddie had sedated her with a warmed bottle and an unclogged stupid rubber nipple.  Your tears had slowed, dry tracks and the redness staining the whites of your eyes as the only evidence that they had ever flowed, save for the stray droplets that trailed along the contour of your nose and stained the pillow case. When Eddie appeared, leaning in the doorway, he stared at you with concern etched into his features. 
You didn’t meet his gaze, staring determinedly at the dresser across the room before asking, “Where’s Penny?” 
“She’s asleep in her playpen.” He sighed, pushing off of the doorway to crouch near the edge of the bed, fingers lifting to stroke over your hair. “Talk to me, babydoll. What’s wrong?”
Your first instinct was to lie but what was the point? Penny would wake up in a couple of hours, hungry again and, like all the times before, you wouldn’t be able to satisfy her. Your days of feeding her were probably over and that made your eyes sting with the prospect of oncoming tears.
“I can’t feed her enough,” you finally admitted, your lower lip beginning to quake. “Barely anything is coming out of my right boob, it hurts like some kind of hell! She’s mad at me, I’m mad at me and I’m probably only gonna have one boob after this because I have a clogged milk duct and there’s nothing I can do about it! Penny can’t unclog it and this all sounds kind of gross as shit to me!” You turned your face into the pillow and sobbed into it, your body trembling with the force of it and you were sure you must have been a pitiful sight to your husband.
Eddie frowned, eyebrows cinched together with worry as he watched you cry. It had been obvious to him that something was off with you these last few weeks. Anytime he tried to bring it up, you withdrew into yourself. It was only after he’d been trying to get you in the mood, when he’d been kissing his way down your chest, nipping and lavishing you with lovemarks that you halted his descent and shyly admitted your breast was feeling a little too tender for any action. He had encouraged you to see your doctor about it, thinking maybe Penny had somehow hurt you while she was nursing despite her lack of teeth but, clearly, it went far beyond that.
“Have you tried pumping?” He leaned forward, pressing a kiss into the side of your head left available to him. You sniffled, turning to the side just in time for him to catch your cheek with his lips. 
Maybe you were in the mood to be coddled because you shifted around a little so you were facing him completely, allowing him to plant kisses all over your face as he brushed your hair out of your eyes.
“It doesn’t help all that much. Plus, if I pump then I can’t feed Penny on that side and my left side is already not enough for her. I don’t like sharing her too much with a bottle, Eddie,” you explained, feeling just a little better at having gotten the chance to vent it all out. Sure, your husband knew you failed at breastfeeding your daughter but clearly he didn’t care about that or he wouldn’t be comforting you.
He licked his lips before pursing them as he studied your tear covered face, heart aching at the fact that you’d been hurting this whole time and kept it to yourself. God, there had to be something he could do. “What exactly did your doctor say?”
You scowled at the mention of your visit. “She said to take some antibiotics and to encourage Penny to nurse on that side. She said, eventually, Penny should be trying to suckle enough to unclog it or I could just—’’ You caught yourself and stopped your words short, face growing warm when you recalled the final solution your doctor had provided you, eyes wide in mortification even though you hadn’t actually said it out loud.
“What? You could just what?” Eddie tried to hide the desperation in his voice as he leaned forward, pressing his forehead to yours. “C’mon, doll, you know you can tell me anything, right?”
You groaned, moving away from him to shove your face back into the pillow. You caught the flash of hurt on his face again and hated yourself a little more. Then, you finally said or, well, mumbled it into the pillow cover.
“What?”
You spoke a little louder, though your answer still remained unintelligible. Eddie frowned at your muffled reply. 
“I can’t hear you, sweetheart. You’re gonna need to say that again without trying to smother yourself,” he coaxed with a gentle joke, lips curled in a slightly uneased smile.
With a sigh and your eyes clamped shut, you moved your mouth just far enough away from the pillow to be heard, “She said I could just have you do it!” You then, immediately, shoved your face back into the pillow so you wouldn’t have to see Eddie laugh at you.
Only, you didn’t hear him either. When he remained silent but continued petting your hair, you slowly angled your head to peek up at him. 
You expected to see some amusement, just a little at your expense, but all you saw on his face was concern.
“What’s so wrong with that?” 
And just like that, you wanted to kick yourself for ever thinking Eddie would tease you for needing his help, regardless of how embarrassing the situation felt to you.
“I don’t know, I guess I just felt stupid. I always expected to breastfeed Penny. Didn’t really think I’d have to ask you to tap in for her.” It sounds silly rather than stupid saying it out loud and you can’t help the giggle that filtered out of you. 
Eddie grinned, pleased that you were finally coming out of your shell and trusting him. He actually wouldn’t mind helping you with your problem. In fact, he wouldn’t mind, at all. 
Had you told him from the start, he would have readily volunteered. 
“Baby, I would be more than happy to. It’s not like I haven’t before.” His grin morphed into his trademark mischievous smirk and you felt your face get hot at the memory of the first time you found out your milk had come in. You’d been in the middle of intercourse, bodies slick with sweat and sliding against one another, mindful of your baby bump, when you had started leaking. Ever the curious cat, Eddie had made it his mission to check it out for himself. If you hadn’t already been heavily pregnant, you were positive that particular tryst would have ended up with a baby in you. 
“Shut up!” You pushed a hand over his face, sending him away as you both laughed and you moved to sit up. 
“Hey! I’m just offering to help!” He stood up only to crash down onto the bed next to you, flat on his back as you crawled over him.
“Mhm, you know, I’m beginning to think it might be a thing for you,” you jested, tucking some hair behind your ear before leaning down, your nose almost grazing his.
Eddie didn’t say anything, just raised an eyebrow in a suggestive manner.
You straightened as your mouth dropped open. “Oh my god, it totally is!” 
The only reason he was admitting it was because he knew it must have embarrassed you to need his help in the first place. “It’s not like I can help it! I just see you and I want to—’’
You shush him, covering his mouth with your hand. “Don’t explain. Just do.”
You didn’t need to tell him twice. 
Eddie flipped you over, your back landing on the mattress as he settled himself over you. You wrinkled your nose as he leaned down, the ends of his hair tickling your face and neck before he began trailing kisses along your jaw, nudging your head to the side with his nose so he could gain better access to your neck. 
“Eddie,” you moaned out as he began sucking over a previous mark he’d left just over your pulse point, making sure it wouldn’t get the chance to fade. 
Eddie liked to do that with most of the bruises his lips had left over your skin, almost from the first time you'd let him to touch you in that way. It always filled him with a sense of pride when he caught a glimpse of them throughout the day, the marks peeking just over the collar of one of your turtlenecks and scarves or smatterings of discoloration littering your thighs when you’d shuck off your pants to go to bed. You hadn’t allowed him to leave them anywhere you wouldn’t be able to hide them with clothing or your hair, but knowing they sat there, pretty and purple, always had him half hard and ready to go the rest of the way the second you made it clear you wanted to fool around.
“Mmm, I’m getting there,” he mumbled against your skin, kisses beginning to trail from your neck to over your collarbone, pulling away only so he could pull your blouse open the rest of the way, his thick clumsy fingers struggling with the tiny iridescent buttons.
You held your breath, watching his face and anticipating the squeamish look of repulsion at your swollen boob, but he never displayed it. Instead, he looked just as intrigued as he always did when undressing you, paying no mind to the irritated redness as he got rid of your blouse and your bra completely, bundling the articles up and flinging them somewhere behind him without a spare glance.
He leaned down to press lushkisses to the area surrounding your nipple, sore and tender even to his fond touch. “My poor baby, you’ve been suffering all this time.”
There was nothing Eddie hated more than feeling helpless. Luckily, that wasn’t the case this time and he’d be damned if he couldn’t ease your pain and maybe soothe you with a little something more. 
“Let me help you with that.”
Finally, he took your nipple into his mouth, sucking cautiously  and laving his tongue over the inflamed skin as you shut your eyes in discomfort. His attention remained focused on you, his dark gaze locked onto your face, judging the pressure he’d need to apply in order to alleviate your pain. By the twisting of your features and the shaky exhales released after you’d held your breath as long as you could, it was clear you weren’t enjoying it, so he made sure his suction was light, each suck accompanied immediately after with an apologetic wash of his tongue, surveying each tick of your eyebrow or curl of your lips to better understand your dilemma. He was sure he was already trying harder than Penny usually did and he could barely taste the sweet liquid you produced, only mustering a few drops. It must have been some clog, no wonder you were so upset.
Eddie’s eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he sucked a little harder, well aware it’d cause you more discomfort before it did you any good relief. He watched as you brought a hand to your mouth, biting down on your finger to keep from making any noises for fear of waking Penny.
“Harder,” you gritted out around your finger. Unlike Penny, you knew Eddie could understand you. You’d need more than he was giving to get it out and, like a dutiful husband, he obeyed and you wondered distantly if you’d end up drawing blood from your finger as your teeth dug into the flesh of it.
The sting in your breast worsened and you honestly thought Eddie was going to rip your nipple off with how harshly he was suckling, your skin coated in a light sheen of sweat as the feeling intensified. Then, suddenly, you could feel something shoot out of your nipple in a horrifying way but the relief was almost instant; it was something not entirely liquid. 
Eddie pulled away, mouth releasing your nipple with a wet pop as he spat into his hand.
Exhausted and spent, you were left panting before straining to push yourself up onto your elbows to get a look at it. 
“What is it?"
He stared down at his palm, thumb reaching to press against something, before he offered his hand out for you to see.
You made a face, nose wrinkling and lips turning up as you caught sight of what was in his hand; it was cream colored and almost rubbery looking, like a smaller version of that gross slime they offered to children as prizes at arcades.
“Oh, god, what the fuck?”
Eddie was silent as he reached over the side of the bed to shake his hand and toss the clog into the trash can. As he leaned back up, he wasted no time in pressing you back into the mattress and slanting his pink mouth over yours with fervor. You caved instantly, melting under his wandering hands as you moaned into his mouth, letting him roll his tongue along yours.
He was panting when he pulled away, lips rosy and glistening with your shared saliva. 
“Fuck, baby, I know that must have been a pain in the ass for you, but you tasted so good and you’re so fucking beautiful.”
You yanked his face back down to yours, licking the rest of his words right out of his mouth. You could taste the sweet flavor of your breast milk on his tongue, and it surprised you how much the candied taste of it turned you on.You weren’t even the one with the kink.
You reached a hand down to press against his jean-ladened crotch, relieved when you felt the defined outline of his cock, hard and warm even through the bulky, rough fabric. Eddie rutted into your palm, eager to feel any friction you would provide him. You took pity on him, fumbling with the button on his jeans before lowering the zipper. He raised his hips to help you ease the pants down over his ass, legs kicking to strip them down the rest of the way, his boxers falling away with his jeans.
“Your turn,” he growled, voice laced with unbridled desire as he quickly got you out of your pants, yanking and tugging until they were discarded along the floor Your panties, however, were less fortunate. The sound of the fabric ripping was loud enough to surprise you but Eddie didn’t let it interfere with his mission and just tossed the ruined article of clothing to the side (they were ruined before he tore them, anyways, your arousal made sure of that). His fingers started exploring your center, his middle and ring digits sliding effortlessly through your soaked folds. 
“Knew I’d find you nice and wet. All this just from me sucking on your nipple, babydoll? Somthin’ you wanna tell me?” 
Eddie didn’t give you the chance to answer, pressing the two fingers into you just as you’d opened your mouth to respond. Instead, all you could do was gasp around a moan when he curled them, the pads of his fingertips pressing against that spot inside you that only he knew how to work. Not even your own fingers could bring you that kind of practiced pleasure. 
“You’re so good, sweetheart. Always my good girl. So good to me and such a good mommy to Penny.” He mouthed at the spot behind your ear that sent sharp tingles up your spine, but you pushed through, focusing on your task at hand and yanking on the hem of his shirt. You needed him naked. 
He got the message, withdrawing his fingers from the desperate clutch of your aching cunt to yank his shirt over his head. In his wake, your pussy clenched around nothing, already missing the feeling of his calloused fingers massaging your walls. 
He didn’t leave your pussy lonely for long though. Once the two of you were both naked, his fingers dipped back into you, eager to stretch you out for his cock. You ground your hips against his hand, head pressing back into the mattress when his thumb rubbed into your clit.
Eddie smirked, watching you arch your back as his thumb circled over your sensitive nub, fingers prodding and searching out that spongy spot inside of you. You let out another airy moan once he found it, this time focusing on that mushy patch inside you as he massaged his rough fingertips into it ruthlessly, pinning your hips down to keep them from moving too much.
“You hear that?” He questions.
Fuck yeah, you could. Your cunt was sucking his fingers in with a sloppy squelch, your arousal smeared all over the insides of your thighs and trailing down the back of Eddie’s hand as it dripped onto the bed sheets. He cursed, staring down at the mess between your thighs, mesmerized by how greedy your pussy was being; so eager to take, take, take.
“Fuck, you’re making such a beautiful mess, honey. All for me, yeah?” 
He increased his pace, fingers fucking into you with reckless abandon.
“Yes, Eddie!” You babbled, chest heaving from the pleasure of it all. You could feel your climax approaching, the telltale sensation pulling low in your belly. “All for you! Only you!”
He hummed, the vibrations rumbling against your skin as he licked a long, hot stripe up your exposed neck. You came right then, clenching hard around his fingers as you nearly choked on a moan, your hands gripping the sheets beside your head with trembling fingers as you fumbled to remain attached  to reality. 
Eddie worked you through it, fingers unforgiving as they stroked that spot inside of you. You whimpered, hips trying to move away, the sensations reaching the point of overwhelming but Eddie wasn’t having that.
“Nuh-uh, I’m not done with you yet, babydoll.” 
He pulled his fingers from your sensitive cunt, sucking them into his mouth and savoring the dulled tang of your juices with a moan as he licked them clean, brown eyes fluttering shut as he did so. You’d just cum within an inch of your life, but the sight of him had a rush of slick slipping past your folds, drenching your cunt more than it already was.
When his eyes opened again, they were dark and yet aglow with a predatory gleam. He grabbed the back of your leg and pushed it over his shoulder, leaning over you so that it almost pressed into yours. You tried to readjust yourself to accommodate the stretch of it, but that was forgotten when you felt the mushroom head of his cock rubbing at your folds. You were barely able to let out a small gasp when he notched the head at your entrance before he was pressing inside you, all the way down to the hilt. Your mouth fell open as you abandoned your hold on the sheets in favor of digging your nails into his sides, the stretch burned in the best of ways. Your cunt already felt sore, labia stretching around him and he was only getting started. 
Despite how often you’d had sex and the fact that you’d literally had his baby, taking Eddie’s cock always proved to be somewhat of a challenge, one that you never failed.
Eddie hissed, both at the sensation of your nails scraping his skin and at the tight, vise-like squeeze of your cunt around his cock as he sank into you. You were always so fucking tight. Under normal circumstances, he liked to make sure you came at least twice before he gave you his cock, but Penny always chose to wake up exactly when she shouldn’t and Eddie needed to cum inside you before that inevitably happened.
He gave you a couple of shallow ruts, pressing your other leg out along the mattress to further open you up; it worked, his cock easily able to glide in and out of your silky heat. It was dramatic, you were being dramatic, but you thought you might die from how good it felt to have Eddie crack your molten center open over him.
“There we go, ‘atta girl,” he panted, leaning down to press his lips to yours in a messy kiss.
He was ruthless with his rhythm, hips thrusting into yours so hard it sent your body up the sheets. The headboard banged against the wall and Eddie cast it a quick glance, lips twitching in amusement as he took notice of the marks there from your previous unions. 
“You want it hard, doll?”
You nodded, teeth digging into your lower lip to keep from screaming with how deep he was buried. He always liked to be buried balls deep and that meant it was nearly impossible for you to hold off on cumming.
His heavy sack smacked against your ass with each of his thrusts, the sounds resonating within the room were absolutely wicked, wet and music to your own ears.
“Eddie! Eddie, I’m gonna cum,” You tried to warn, face ruddy and chest heaving as he pounded into you.
“Then do it. Cum for me. Cum on my cock, fucking getting me soaked—c’mon, let me feel it,” he demanded, leaving no room for arguments as his fingers danced down your body to work your clit again. 
Your thighs quivered as you came, body tensing before you went lax, doing exactly what he demanded of you. Eddie growled when your pussy convulsed and spilled around him, making it that much easier for him to fuck into you.
“Holy shit,” He hissed, sweat beading along his forehead, making the hairs of his fringe stick messily to his forehead. You stared up at him in adoration as you came down from subspace, admiring the way his mouth was agape so he could pant out harsh breaths, the way his skin glowed under the layer of sweat resting over it, and how tightly his eyes were screwed shut from the pleasure you were providing him.
You could feel the tackiness of your combined fluids, his thighs sticking to yours as he pounded into your core. You knew this was going to end in a good, hot mess and you wanted it sooner rather than later.
“C’mon, baby,” you encouraged, shaky hands reaching up to card through his messy curls, massaging his sweaty scalp and he whimpered when you clenched around him again, eager to bring him to his end. “Cum inside me.”
He slammed a fist down near the side of your head as he came with a sputtered moan of your name, flooding your insides and painting your walls with spurt after spurt of his seed before collapsing over you, spent and satiated.
After catching a few puffs of lost breath, you pressed kisses into the damp skin of his forehead, holding his sweaty body to yours as his face nuzzled into the crook of your neck, trailing his own kisses along the area. 
“Goddamn, were you trying to kill me?” He lifted himself off of you, rolling onto his side before tugging you to his chest, your slack body giving way easily.
“You started it!” You curled into him without a second thought, trying to ignore how gross your lower halves were.
“Yeah, well, you helped finish it.” He pressed his lips to the top of your head before he threw an arm over his eyes. “Holy hell, I’m gonna need some recovery time.”
Right on cue, Penny’s cooing could be heard through the baby monitor you kept on the nightstand near the bed. While she didn’t sound upset, you both hated to just leave her to keep herself company.
Eddie stared at it in disbelief, “How does she know?”
You laughed as you pulled away from him and threw on one of his shirts before standing to dig around in one of the dresser drawers for a fresh pair of panties you’d no doubt have to change again later after a much needed shower. 
“It’s her sixth sense,” you teased as you slipped your legs into your underwear, sliding them up over your messy core. “She knows when you're being lazy.”
Eddie rolled his eyes, tonguing his canine as he fought to not smile when you slipped out of the room to retrieve his daughter from solitary confinement. It didn’t work. 
He stretched as he stood up, more than happy to peruse the room butt naked in search of his boxers. He settled on a pair of sweats when it became clear he had no idea where he’d thrown his  pants and underwear in the heat of things and joined you in the living room, beaming when he caught sight of you holding Penny to your right breast on the couch.
You looked much happier, hand stroking over her curly little head as she nursed. Penny’s tiny fingers curled into loose fists as she slumped into your embrace, humming sounds of satisfaction against your skin.
“Did it work?” He asked as he plopped down next to you, encouraging you to lean into his side which you happily complied with.
“Pretty sure.” It was obvious it had, you could feel the difference. Your nipple was definitely sore and you were positive you’d have to ice it or something later, but Penny was content, suckling a lot easier than she had been before because she was actually able to get more than just a couple of drops at a time.
She reached a small arm up towards you as she stared up at you and Eddie, and you slipped your finger into her hold, heart squeezing when her small fingers curled around it, her lips smiling around your nipple at the contact. You felt silly about your earlier dramatics, it was clear she loved you and you loved her. You were born to be her mom, and absolutely ecstatic about it. You had this. You knew what you were doing. And in the moments where you thought you didn’t, you had Eddie to help and reassure you.
You two were gonna be great parents, you were sure of it.
Eddie kissed the side of your head as you relaxed into him, resting his chin on your shoulder to stare down at his baby girl. Only, she loved to stare right back at Eddie, so much so that she abandoned your boob to crane her head further in his direction. She must have been going ham because you were still leaking when her mouth left your nipple, milk spraying along the side of her face.
Penny didn’t even bat an eye, choosing to continue staring at her dad as you both laughed and you hurried to cover your breast to stop the spillage.
Eddie reached down to caress the side of her face, wiping the liquid away. “Okay, you’re done here. After all I did to get her going again, you’re just gonna waste it? Done.”
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backtothefanfiction · 7 months
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Professor Peter Parker
Summary: The first day of college nerves are suddenly made worse when you realised the guy you f*cked last night is your new Physics Professor!
Warnings! 18+ ONLY! This is some of the filthiest smut I have ever written and posted on here yet. Female reader and pronouns, Age gap (everyone is of legal age, Peter is a very young Professor), Oral (F + M Receiving), Dirty Talk (so much fucking dirty talk), praise kink, edging, P in V, Peter Parker (YES he does need his own warning), One Night Stand... or is it?, ITS SEX PEOPLE, JUST STRAIGHT UP SEX WITH A LITTLE PLOT FOR ADDED TENSION AND POW!
Word Count: 4.9k+
A/N: Consider this my formal application piece for the literary prostitutes society. There are no words for this, so I'm just gonna type/sing Don't Lose Your Head from Six. "Sorry not sorry but what I said, I'm just tryin' to have some fun..." But seriously though this was so self indulgent and I can't believe this came out of me. It's very much giving Aria and Ezra in Pretty Little Liars but older and much more Peter Parker. Also I am really sorry about if the tense keeps changing, I sometimes have a problem with finding my rhythm and I really cba to spend the time working it all out and changing it.
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First day of college. Standard level of nerves for a first day. Are you running on just a couple hours of sleep? Sure. Still a little tipsy from last night? Okay, yeah, maybe just a little, but that’s a good thing right. Takes the edge off. But then again numbers and science had never let you down before. You can do physics. You’ve got this.
You took a deep breath, hand hesitating on the door handle. ‘This is the first day of the rest of your life.’ You said to yourself, breathing deeply.
You found a spot somewhere in the middle of the room. Not so eager you were at the front but you also didn’t want to hide away in the back. That and you were pretty sure you were due for an eye test and if you sat any further back you wouldn’t be able to read the board. You got out your notepad, flipping open to the first page, your fingers smoothing across the fresh paper comfortingly. You reach for a fresh pencil from the novelty pack your Mom had bought you especially for your first week, knowing you prefer the feel of writing in pencil than pen, the ink always getting smudged on your hand from your messy scrawl. You pluck the one with tiny zebra all over it from the clear case before placing it back in your bag. Your fingers drum the back of the pencil on your page nervously as you wait. You tried not to overthink things as your stomach began to churn. Had you really turned up this early? You took a quick look around the room at the other 5 people who had actually been there before you. ‘Hey,’ you reasoned to yourself, ‘at least you weren’t as early as them.’ 
You yawned. Damn you were tired. Although you had this early class, when your new room mate suggested you go out with the guys who lived across the hall you couldn’t say no. To be fair, it had been a good night all considered. You had met some new people, exchanged a few numbers, agreed to go to the end of semester drama club performance even though the term had only just started, drank way too many jello shots, got snuck into a local bar and then ended up going home with a tall brunette with the softest yet devious brown eyes you had ever seen who completely rocked your world. 
You absentmindedly rubbed your thighs together, squirming slightly in your seat as you thought back to his head between your legs. The lewd moans he’d pulled from your lips echoing around your brain. It sent a fresh new wave of arousal straight to your core.
‘Not the time or place.’ you berated, instead forcing your mind back into the classroom and the task at hand. ‘Physics of Matter with Professor Peter Parker. He was probably middle aged’ you thought to yourself. It was always the case with classes like these, middle aged men finally leaving the lab for the first time after finally completing their life's work, now relenting to their wife’s begging to spend more time with the family. Or older men with white hair, wrinkles and tweed, desperately holding on to their independence, understimulated by the idea of retired life when all that knowledge of matter and the universe was rattling around their brains. ‘Young hot professors were only to be found in the movies or on TV’ you daydreamed as you tried to distract yourself from the growing pit of nerves in your stomach.
You check your phone every few seconds as other students file into the room, finding their own seats as you count down the minutes. 5 minutes… 3 minutes… 2 minutes… 1 minute… … He’s late… 1 minute past… 2 minutes past… 3 min-
“Okay, okay, settle down!” A voice called out as the classroom door opened, far younger than she expected and slightly familiar. “Welcome to Physics of Matter,” the voice continued as he made his way towards the board, picking up a bit of chalk and lifting it to the board as he spoke, “I am Professor Parker, but please,” he said dropping the piece of chalk back onto the little shelf at the bottom of the board, “call me Peter.” He said finally turning around.
SHIT!
DOUBLE SHIT!
You dip your head towards your page as you sink a little bit down in your seat. Hopefully he won’t notice. ‘FUCK!’ your head was suddenly screaming as all those memories of the night before flooded your brain again. His messy hair. His naked body. The way he had moaned into your cunt- FUCK!
You subtly glanced around the room from your head's dipped position. This had to be some new prank show right. There’s no way this happened in real life. There had to be cameras. He’s an actor right? Ashton Kutcher was about to burst through the classroom door shouting “YOU’VE BEEN PUNK’D” any second followed by the actual Professor Parker, right? Right?
“Now I’m not gonna ask you to get your books out this lesson,” he began to say playfully, his voice carrying around the room as he walked back and forth in front of his desk surveying his new class. “Today is about you getting to know me and me just going over all the things we are gonna be covering over the course of our year together.” He said, talking a lot with his hands. “As much as I’d love to start getting into equations with you, I’ve learnt that that tends to be futile during our first lessons. I mean, just by a show of hands, who went out drinking last night?” Professor Parker asked and a shower of hands across the room went up, Peter’s gaze scanning across the faces of the raised hands as he continued, “Keep your hand up if you’re still a little bit drunk-” his voice cut off as his eyes finally landed on you, his own oh shit face befalling him.
You felt your skin crawl as people lowered their hands and began following his gaze to you. You moved your hand up to your face as you sank down in your seat further. ‘Stop staring. Stop staring. Stop staring!’
8 HOURS EARLIER 
“I couldn’t help but see you staring.” He said as he sidled up to you. ‘Holy fuck’ he was gorgeous. Tall, lean, perfectly messy brown hair and the most delicious biceps (not too big) that were flexing under the cuffs of his fitted T-shirt you really just wanted to wrap your fingers around and squeeze. Damn. “Is she okay?” He said turning to your friend.
“Yeah she’s just-“ your roommate started before nudging you and breaking you from your hypnotised gaze on this absolute Adonis of a man. “She thinks you’re really hot!” she shouted over the music to him.”
He raised his eyebrows as he gave a small chuckle, flattered, as you cringed. They both laughed at you. “Do you wanna dance?” he asked as he took your hand.
“Yes, she does!” your friend said, pushing you off your stool. His other hand comes out to steady you as you almost slam into his chest. You blush before turning to give your roommate a death stare. 
He flashed one of those charming smiles again before he began to guide you away from her and to the dance floor. His hand doesn’t leave yours as he starts to bop and bounce, easing you both into the music. You slowly relax, smiling as a giddy feeling churns in your stomach, as you begin to bop with him to the music.
The music swells and he gives you a twirl under his arm before he pulls you closer to him. “So have you got a name or am I supposed to refer to you as flower for the rest of the night?”
You frown. “Why Flower?” 
“Isn’t that the name of the skunk in Bambi who is all quiet and has those big eyes and blushing cheeks and-”
“Don’t call me Flower.” you quickly say, slightly embarrassed by the way you had gone all goo goo eyed and helpless over him.
“Okay, then what can I call you?”
You hesitate for a second as you think about giving him your real name but what would be the fun in that, especially if this only turned out to be a one night stand. “Trouble.”
He laughs, his head dipping to hide his amusement. “Is that so?” he says from beneath his lashes. “Fine, if that’s how we’re playing it, you can call me Professor Brat Tamer, Professor for short.”
You feel your arousal soak your panties the moment he says it, the words going straight to your core. What have you gotten yourself in for? It’s like he knows too from the way he’s smirking. He turns you, pulling you back into him, his hands resting on your hips as he begins to grind himself against your ass. “Now, are you gonna be a good student?” he coos against your ear only loud enough for you to hear. “Or are you gonna be like your namesake says and cause me a whole lot of trouble?”
He can feel the way you relax your body back against him, your eyes closing as you relish in the feeling his words elicit in you. 
You smirk as you look back at him, “I’m sorry Professor, but you may have your work cut out for you.”
An hour and a half later he’s pulling you into his apartment, your back slamming hard against a wall of exposed brick as your mouth latches onto his. Both of you had done so well keeping your hands to yourself the whole way back, but the moment you got through the door it was like a starting pistol had gone off, both of you suddenly in a race for pleasure.
You moan against his mouth as his tongue slips between your teeth. You can taste his final Jack and Coke he had had before you left. Your skin felt like it was burning under his touch.
“Fuck.” You gasp as his mouth is suddenly moving across your jaw and down your neck, his teeth and stubble grazing you slightly in his hunger for you. 
“God Trouble, you sound so fucking pretty.” he coos against your chest, his hand moving to paw at your breast, bunching it up to spill over the top of your dress as he leaves wet kisses across the skin.
Your fingers wrap around his messy tresses as you pull his head back up so you can connect your mouth with his again, a small growl escaping his lips at the slight pain. You kiss him messily, both of you breathing heavily before you push him back, allowing you room to drop to your knees on the hardwood floor. Your fingers immediately begin to fight with his belt buckle, the sound of the metal clinking sending arousal straight between your own legs.
“Fuck.” He pants as he looks down at you, his hand reaching to cradle either side of your face as you pull down his jeans and his boxers in one swift pull. “Uh, baby, baby, baby.” he coos as you take his length into your mouth and immediately begin to work your tongue up and down his cock.
His fingers move away from your face, grabbing at the hem of his t-shirt and you watch as he pulls it up and over his head, exposing the rest of his body to you. Fuck he really was gorgeous. “Oh my god.” he cried out when you began to swallow his length down your throat, your nose pressing to his pelvic bone. “Uh,” he said, his head tipping back, “she’s not trouble, she’s fucking perfect.” he says as he drops his head back forward to watch you, his thumb reaching to wipe away a stray tear at the corner of your eye.
You take his length out of your mouth as you gasp for air and he thinks it’s the sexiest thing he’s ever heard. “Come here Trouble.” he says as he takes your face and chin in his hands and lifts you from the floor, pulling your lips back to his as he smashes his mouth into yours.
He begins to kick off his shoes as well as his jeans and boxers that now sit tangled around his ankles as he continues to kiss you, freeing himself so he can lift you up into his arms, your own arms throwing themselves around his neck, as he carries you to his bedroom.
You can’t help but cheekily bite at his lower lip as he stops just before the foot of the bed. “Oh she has some bite does she?” he says against your mouth. Your teeth almost clash together from how close you are as you grin, waiting to see what he’ll do or say next. “Okay,” he says as he pauses a little for dramatic effect, “I can bite back.” he says before throwing you back on the bed.
You let out a small squeal as you're caught by the mattress springs and pillows. You quickly prop yourself up on your elbows so you can see the devilish look on his face as he pulls off your heels before he stalks up the bed towards you. He leans over you, attaching his lips to yours once more, his tongue sliding deftly into your mouth and out again with every kiss until his last, when he uses it to suck your lower lip between his teeth, pulling on it. He releases it just as you’re beginning to feel it bruise, his lips instead attaching to your throat as his hands come up to pull down the top of your dress. He had already clocked that you were sans bra from how low the back of your dress was and is even more grateful now he can immediately latch himself onto your nipples, his tongue lapping at the small sensitive nibs, one and then the other.
You moan under his touch, your eyes falling closed as your head tips back, fingers gripping tightly at the covers beneath you. When he looks up at you, keening under his touch, he thinks it's the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. “Look at me baby.” he softly commands and you oblige, your chin pressing to your chest as you gaze straight into those big brown eyes. It’s the sexiest eye contact you’ve ever held. It’s like he’s fucking you with his eyes as his fingers begin to snake their way up your thighs, lifting the bottom of your dress up to your hips so he can pull down your underwear. He takes one feel of them before saying, “Fuck, trouble, these are soaked.”
You can only nod in agreement, as all words seem to have left your brain. ‘Fuck, he’s so fucking hot’ you think, as he kisses his way down your middle, over your dress until he reaches the hem where he can start kissing at your skin. You sigh, your head falling back again at the sensation of his lips kissing across your hips and then down your thighs. 
His fingers spread your legs and he gives a small nip to the inside of your thigh and you gasp at the small feeling of pain, that quickly turns to pleasure, as yet another wave of arousal floods between your legs.
“Fuck, baby, you’re dripping.” he says as his finger scoops up the arousal thats begining to drip down your thighs, bringing it up to his mouth. You watch hypnotised as he sucks on his fingers. “Damn, trouble, you tast so fucking good.” he says as he slips his fingers from his mouth. It’s so filthy. He has barely done anything and you’re a fucking goner.
His tongue suddenly crashes between your folds. “FUCK!” you cry out loudly. His fingers trace over your thighs, reaching for your own fingers which you entwine with his. He’s got his eyes closed, savouring every moan, every little gasp he pulls from you. 
He can tell you’re getting close from how your cunt begins to grind itself down against his tongue, chasing you’re high, but to allow you to have it would be too easy. He listens closely to your breathing, your moans; one… two… he suddenly moves his mouth away and you want to scream. He playfully nips at the inside of your thigh, almost hard enough to bruise. You really do scream now in frustration. “Told you I could bite.” he says coily as he mumbles against your skin. 
He licks another stripe through your folds as if in apology, as if to soothe the sting but his tongue flicks at your sensitive clit before he sucks it hard between his lips and you cry out again. “Mmmm.” he hums against your cunt, “you sound so pretty when you scream like that.”
You want to cry, you are so sensitive and overstimulated but suddenly he’s lapping at your pussy again and you’re melting back into the bed as your muscles begin to relax again with the long slow licks of his tongue.
When you both begin to feel the build of your climax again he doesn’t pull away this time. He lets you have it, your thighs closing around his head, hips bucking off the bed as the wave of pleasure crashes over you. He keeps going, his mouth lapping up everything you’ll give him until you're pulling yourself away from him. Tears well in the corners of your eyes from the over stimulation as you pant and whine and rub your thighs together, desperate for the feeling to dissipate. He grabs at your ankles, holding you still as you flop back into the pillows at the top of the bed.
“So good for me Trouble, you’re doing so good.” he says as he crawls up the bed to kiss you. 
Although he’s wiped at his mouth, the taste of you still remains and you lick it off every part of his mouth you can reach as he settles himself between your legs.
His hands slide up your thighs before they’re grabbing ahold of your waist and suddenly he’s flipping you, his head crashing into the pillows as you straddle his hips. Your lips race to chase his as you continue to pant breathlessly into his mouth, another flood of arousal soaking between your legs. 
His fingers reach for the bottom of your dress, lifting it up and off your head, leaving you finally, completely naked before him. “Fuck, trouble,” he moans as his eyes drink you in, “has anyone told you how absolutely fucking perfect you are.” You giggle and blush as you lean down to kiss him. “No. No. Look at me.” he says as he takes your head in his hands and moves you away from him so you have to look at him. He’s giving you that look with his eyes again as he holds your face in place, not allowing you to break eye contact with him for one single moment as he begins to grind his hips up against you, his rock hard cock grinding against your clit. Your mouth falls open in a silent gasp. “So fucking perfect.” he repeats. “Now tell me, trouble, how do you want me to fuck you?” You can’t think, your eyes closing as you try to focus your thoughts as his skin drags across your clit teasingly. He gently taps your cheek with his fingers, forcing you to open your eyes and look at him. “Eyes on me Trouble,” he says, “find your words, tell me how you want me to fuck you.”
You shake your head as you close your eyes again, really unable to think. “Options.” you say breathlessly, your eyes flying open, before he can punish you for breaking eye contact again. “Give me options.” 
“Okay.” he concedes with a small nod and a smile. “Okay, pretty girl.” he repeats again soothingly as he pulls you back down closer to him, his lips kissing you sweetly and encouragingly, aware he’s over stimulating your brain. “I can fuck you like this.” he says as he looks into your eyes. His hand slowly trails down to wrap around your throat, his other hand still cradling the back of your head as he flips you again. “Or I can fuck you like this.” he says as he continues to slowly grind himself against your sex. “Or,” he says as he lowers his head down to the crook of your neck, breathing you in deeply as he speaks directly into your ear, “I can flip you over and fuck you from behind.” You sigh as his words go straight to your core again.
“The last one.” you say breathlessly as your eyes close.
“MMM.” he hums into your ear as his teeth nip at your jaw, satisfied with your response. He pushes you back into the bed slightly as he lifts himself onto his knees, his hands moving away from your face and you watch him eagerly as you await his next move. He leans over to the bedside table, reaching into the draw for a condom, lazily tugging at his length with one hand whilst he uses his teeth and the other hand to open it up. You’re almost starring as he’s rolling it down the length of his cock, fully taking in his erect size. He smirks when he looks up to notice you nibbling at your lower lip.
“Come here, trouble.” he says before he’s flipping you over, your head finding a comfortable position on the pillow as he lifts your ass into the air. 
He slides his fingers down your opening before placing two fingers slowly inside you, stretching you out and you let out another breathy moan at the feeling. He pumps them in and out of you a couple more times before he slowly lets them slide out of you, his fingertips dragging agonisingly across your clit before he uses them to pump his cock again a couple times, shifting himself into position.
His fingers grip tightly onto your hips as he lines himself up and slowly pushes himself inside you, your back arching with the stretch, head shifting as you let out another moan of satisfaction into the pillow. “Mmm, let me hear you baby.” he says as his hand removes itself from your hip to reach for the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair as he turns your head back towards him.
“Fuck.” you hiccup as he pulls himself out little by little before he’s slamming his hips forward against your ass, pushing himself in even deeper.
“Fuck, trouble. So fucking tight for me.” 
You lose all ability to speak as he begins fucking into you, slowly building his pace until he’s fucking into you at a wicked speed. You want to scream again, your face screwing up in ecstasy as his cock continuously hits that spot inside you that makes you want to explode. His other hand reaches around for your throat, pulling you back up as he leans over you so he can stick his tongue back into your mouth. It adjusts his angle somehow, making the feeling in your cunt even more intense. Your mouth falls open as he holds it there, you’re panting and moaning into his mouth. “Look at me.” he encourages as his thumb rubs soothingly across your jaw. You can’t help but obliged. 
It’s too much. It’s the hottest, most filthiest sex you’ve ever had. You know you’ll never be the same again. Nothing, no one, will ever compare to this. “Please, please, please.” you find yourself repeating as your eyes close again. You’re so close and he knows it because your cunt is constricting like a vice around his cock. 
He moves his hand down to circle at your clit between your legs. “Come on, trouble, give it to me,” he coaches, “Fuck, baby!” he snarls against your mouth as he smashes his lips to yours again, pulling at your lips bruisingly. 
You pull your mouth away from him, wailing, gasping for breath as your body convulses around him, his pace only slowing slightly to help you ride out your climax. “So good.” he coos, “My trouble, so fucking good for me. Atta girl.”
His pace is steady as he feels you begin to relax again but you’re still so stimulated. You’re surprised he’s still going. “Your turn.” you say to him breathlessly and he smiles. When he doesn’t say anything you decide to push your luck. “How do you want to fuck me?” you coo, now you’re the one who’s eye fucking him.
You watch as he closes his eyes, head falling back. He chuckles then, something low and devious. He suddenly pulls out of you. It makes you feel so empty. You’re about to whine but then he’s flipping you over and pulling your legs together and then over his shoulder as he bends you in half. He lines himself back up with your entrance and slips back in with ease and you gasp as he bottoms out, the position making him hit that devastating spot inside you instantly. He leans all the way over so he can kiss you, his mouth swallowing every moan, gasp and breath that leaves your mouth as he pounds down into you like something fierce.
“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.” you whine as the sensitivity grows too much. His pelvis is slamming against your clit with every thrust. Now you really are crying, your eyes rolling back in your head as you feel yourself clamping down on his cock again. 
“Oh my god, baby.” he says. “You’re so fucking wet. So fucking good. Such a good fucking girl.”
It’s a guttural wail you let loose into the room as you cum and his head dips down as he buries himself in the crook of your neck, his thrusts growing even faster as he chases his high. “Stay with me, Trouble,” he says, trying to ground you. He lifts his head, hand reaching for your face, forcing you to look at him. “Just a little bit longer, baby, just a little bit-” but he can’t finish his words. He’s so fucking close. One pump, two- he suddenly stills as he buries himself inside you, his forehead pressing into yours grounding you both as he pumps his seed into the condom inside you. You whine at the feeling of his cock pulsating against the still extremely sensitive spot inside you.
“You did so good.” His voice reassures as he strokes soothingly across your cheek forcing you to look at him as you breathe deeply and heavily in your come down. “So fucking good.” he says as he kisses your forehead before slipping out of you. 
With his body no longer crowding you you fully relax back into his sheets, your eyes closing as you try to regulate. You think you might even pass out. You think you may even have blacked out for a second, but you know you haven’t as your eyes fly open and your body jumps at the feeling of a cool damp cloth between your legs.
He watches you content as you suddenly relax once more, the cool washcloth doing wonders to soothe the hot swollen feeling between your legs as he cleans you up. You definitely black out then, completely exhausted.
You are disturbed again a few minutes later, a soft reassuring hand brushing up your legs. “Here.” his voice says softly as he sits on the side of the bed next to you, waiting for you to open your eyes and look at him so he can pass you a glass of water.
The cold liquid does wonders to help regulate your temperature and you can’t help but stare at him again in wonder as he sits before you in a pair of flannel pyjama bottoms. He leans over you, kissing the top of your head, breaking you from your sex induced stupor.
“You can stay if you want.” You nod your head, you have no energy to move yet.
“Okay.” he says with a soft smile as he takes the now mostly empty glass from your fingers. “I’m gonna go get you another one of these,” he says motioning to the glass now in his hands, “you go to the toilet, there’s a spare toothbrush under the sink, get yourself ready for bed and when you get back we can cuddle.”
You still have no words, just dociley nod and agree. You wobble slightly as you try to stand, blood rushing back to your limbs and his hand reaches out to steady you. “I’ve got it, I’ve got it.” You say as you sway slightly and wave him away.
He just chuckles. “Whatever you say, trouble.”
You crawl into bed beside him 5 minutes later, tucking yourself into his side as his arm wraps around you. “You really are Professor Brat Tamer huh?” you joke as you nestle into his bare chest.
“And don’t you know it.” he smiles, pulling you tighter into his side so he can place a kiss to the top of your head.
You wake just after 6am, sneaking from his bed with a smile on your face as you pick up your clothes before doing the walk of shame back to your student halls. The sun is just coming up and the leaves are just starting to change, you can still feel the alcohol in your system as well as the after effects of your orgasms and you know, although you’re tired, today is gonna be a great first day… or was it?
________________________-
@tarzinnia @withahappyrefrain @xenasolos @sincericida
Is this a one off? I don't know. Is there a lot of room for this to turn into a collection of shorts... yeah, maybe.
831 notes · View notes
ofallthingsnasty · 1 year
Text
capture kill
Pairing: M!Werewolf x F!Reader x M!Werewolf Tags:  teratophilia, yandere, dead dove: do not eat, noncon, abduction, (attempted) forced impregnation, creampies, chubby reader Word count: 3.8k Summary:  Two men are secretly fighting over you.
Unfortunately, you’re about to find out.
Note: This started out as some dialogue that popped into my head and it was a lot of fun to write out the dynamic between these two OCs! Please read the tags properly and enjoy. Requests are open!
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You smell before you feel.
The air is ripe with motor oil and wood, just like your family's little shack during summer evenings. An almost musky note lies underneath, mixed with something metallic, rusty - old equipment, maybe? It’s quiet, the only thing you can hear is your own breathing, deep and constant. There is the occasional creak from the boards, expanding and moving against each other in the heat. The wall you're propped up against is hard but warm from the sun - it’s not a comfortable position and the moment you realize it, a familiar ache settles itself in your lower back, clearly a sign that you’ve spent a long time sitting like this.
Did you fall asleep hiding behind one of the shelves with a book in hand, enjoying a lazy summer evening? 
It wouldn’t be the first time: The shack is the only place where you can truly be all by yourself - without any disruptions from your family, without anyone asking for you, without any chatter and the constant clatter of dishes or the static of the tv. You’ve always liked to hole up right here, seated on a cushion and with some snacks in hand. You’ve spent many quaint evenings like this, forgetting the world around you.
There is only one problem: You don't live anywhere near your parents' house anymore. 
And you’re pretty sure that you were just enjoying your favorite iced drink at the cozy little café around the corner. The thought shocks you from the very last bits of sleep.
It’s dim around you. You can barely make out the rest of your body while an unnatural drowsiness still clings to your eyes - it seems to sit right on top of your lids, weighing down on them like a ton of bricks. You feel so incredibly groggy, as though you’d die if you didn’t fall back asleep this second. A small part of you fights against the feeling - it’s too easy, you think, to just simply give up. Something is off, something terrible churns your stomach around nothing but air.
Rolling up your head, you blink at the ceiling. 
Green eyes peer back at you, big and apologetic. They're lined by silvery-white fur, between them a muzzle. Too high above you to be a dog, too broad. The thing is bipedal - more bear in body than canine, with disgustingly big paws that look like they could rip you limb from limb. It eyes you with something akin to curiosity, intelligence clear as day in its gaze.
You blink again, brain trying to catch up with your eyes.
And then it speaks. Awful, garbled words. “I’m so sorry, darling.”
You can’t help but scream.
Or at least you try to, because your mouth won’t open. Your lips are held together by something hard and sticky - duct tape, your mind numbly supplies as if it’s of dire importance.
The thing looks stunned - panicked, even, as far as you can tell from its eyes widening at your muffled protests and your head wildly swinging around.
“Yeah, yeah you’re sorry”, another voice cuts in, only making you thrash around harder. “We get it, you’re trying to save the romantic atmosphere or some shit.”
It comes from the corner of the shack, where a shadowy mass stands, postured leisurely against the wall. It is dark - but there is no doubt that it looks just like the wolf-man in front of you. You feel like you’re hallucinating. As if being abducted wasn’t something out of your worst nightmares already - these animals are so bizarre, your poor brain doesn’t know what to do with all of this information.
“Well, how do you expect me to go about it?”, the one in front of you hisses back, eyes not leaving you for a second.
“It definitely helped the whole fighting thing, dumbass”, the other thing snickers and the wolf-man growls at the mocking tone. “I told you we should have just done the deed when she was out cold.”
The sentence confirms all of your worst fears. You whimper against your makeshift gag, trying to suppress tears. The thing gives you what you think is supposed to be a sympathetic look but it only looks ghoulish on its canine face.
“That’s barbaric”, it says, voice thick with disgust. “Yeah, and this right here is the height of chivalry and romance”, the dark one chortles. “As always, you’re a fucking hoot.”
“Shut up.”
“Well- I’m sure, the missus would like an explanation. So quit yapping and do your little monologue, will you?” “Fuck you.”
It gives the other an irrated look and then takes a step forward. You flinch away from it, only to meet the wall behind you. An attempt at raising your hands in defense is foiled thick rope binding them together - you can only cower behind your forearms, fingers swiping, gripping wildly through the air with what you hope is enough to keep it at bay. The wolf-man looks almost sad at your motion but doesn’t back off - those giant paws wrap themselves around your shoulder with surprising gentleness as it crouches down, completely disregard your attempts at scratching it. The thing holds your gaze with big, sad eyes and takes a stuttering breath. It seems to want to say something but isn’t able to - and the fingers on your shoulder tighten themselves into the fabric of your shirt.
Then it says your name- and chokes up. “I can’t-”, it grits out. “I can’t say it-” “You’ve been preparing your shitty talk all the way up here, grow some fucking balls.”
It whines in response, the sound high and miserable. “She’s going to hate me for this.”
“Oh my god, shut up, Evan!”, the dark one snarls again. “She’s gonna hate you either way, believe me.” Evan. The name rings a faint bell even in your panic-ridden brain. Evan. The baker from your favorite little shop a few minutes down - who has the same green eyes to match this thing. A couple years younger than you and so very sweet like the pastries he bakes - you can hardly believe he is this monster. But clear as day, in front of your own two eyes, the wolf responds to his name and has his eyes - even his blond hair sort of matches its coat, if you squint. You thrash in Evan’s grasp, thoughts rushing through your head. You feel like you’re dreaming and dying at the same time - that thing can’t possibly be a human - and this situation can’t be real, either. It’s all too much, too fast. You’re starting to feel faint.
“I-”
“Fine. I’ll do it myself, cuck.” The other steps forward and you get a better look at him, even through the black and green spots that are sprinkled all over your vision - his dark fur is peppered with silvery streaks, his muzzle turning white from age. One of his canines is chipped and makes him look roughed up, makes him look scarier than he already is.
"You see, sweetheart - me and Evan over here are quite… interested in you. Tried to settle this issue for weeks. But then our alpha stepped in and came up with", he waves his paw around as if to show you something, "this."
"And now we're gonna fuck you and see which one knocks you up first, hm?"
You lose it. Whimpering against the duct tape, you throw your legs around, desperate to fight them off. Some animalistic part of your brain supplies you with the thought that just trying to scream no, no, no against your gag might make them spare you, might make them go away. But Evan doesn’t let up, he keeps his hands on you, heavy and warm.
"You scared her, fucking asshole!", he snarls, teeth bared and fur raised.
“She wasn't gonna like this either way, boy. Some woo-woo words and a little sap won't make her fall for you immediately.”
You thrash around helplessly, efforts futile against the monster holding you down.
"You had the chance to ask her out every damn day when she took her pretty little face to your shop. And didn’t you follow her home sometimes?”, the other one snickers, clearly delighted in picking on his mate.
It makes you stop dead in your tracks and you look at Evan with wide eyes, scared. 
The darker one laughs. “Would you look at that. Did I tattle?”
By now Evan’s claws are buried in your shoulder. It hurts, even through the cotton of your t-shirt. Not even your whimpered protest seems to reach him. He looks positively murderous. “See, loverboy over here isn’t as innocent as he’d like you to think. Nasty little creeper, that one.”
“Shut up, Bill-”, Evan grits out.
Bill. Such a mundane name for a monster like him. Unlike Evan, it doesn’t ring a bell - but you’re sure he is a local just like the young bakery worker.
“That's enough”, Bill says, voice suddenly full of authority. “You’re only making this worse for her, boy.” The paw on your shoulder trembles. “At least let me go first.” His voice is nothing more than a whimper now, more reminiscent of a sad child than a fully grown man grotesquely stretched into the body of a wolf. He sounds absolutely pathetic like this and you’d pity him in any other situation.
Bill laughs, deep and ugly. It’s an almost dry chuckle that gets gradually louder. The atmosphere shifts to something more dangerous, more serious - gone is the playful teasing, now it sounds like he’s ready to rip Evan’s throat out with his bared fangs.
“I am your elder. I get to go first.”
Evan doesn’t respond. He just stares at your lap with an indecipherable expression.
“You hear me, boy? Hugh said this was the way to settle things. Trying to question your alpha?” The threat in his voice is clear. Evan finally opens his mouth. “No.”
“Good. Very good.”
He finally lets go of your shoulder and steps aside. Bill doesn’t waste any more time - you’re grabbed by your ankled and roughly pulled onto floor, helplessly flailing your bound hands through the air. He’s on you almost immediately, caging your head in with two thick arms. You can only stare up at him with pleading eyes, trying to beg him to stop with your expression alone.
“Sh, princess”, he says, almost gentle. He bows his head down and nudges the crown of your head. “I can play nice with you, you know? I just don’t like that little cuck over there”
His words do little to calm you. 
Whimpering against the tape, you let tears spill freely. You just want to be home, in your bed - just anywhere but not here. “It’s okay”, he murmurs and licks them away with his rough tongue. “You’ll be fine. You’re a little fighter, I know you are.”
A growl sounds from the corner but Bill isn’t fazed. He caresses your face with one clawed finger and crinkles his eyes at you. It’s another attempt at a soothing gesture, another one that doesn’t work.
“Poor thing, hm? Let’s get this over with.”
You can barely cry in protest before he rips your shirt open with sheer force, digs his claws into the cotton like it’s butter. Your skin prickles with fear as he eyes you, soft form and all, like the finest cut of meat he’s ever seen. Gone is that almost-warm expression, that deceptively gentle touch. He’s back to his snickering, old self. “Cute bra, baby. Too bad it has to go.” And with that, Bill slashes the straps and rips the band away. Your torso is completely bare in a matter of seconds, leaving you to shiver on the rough wood, the scraps of your shirt barely shielding your back from the ground.
Evan groans from his place and the sound curdles your stomach. 
“Just ignore him, baby”, Bill says and bares his teeth into a ghoulish smile above you. “He’ll have his turn but I’m gonna knock you up and keep you.” With another rip of elastic and cotton, he frees you from your pants. The floor is cold against your skin and you already can feel the splinters that are about to bury themselves into you - but it’s nothing compared to the terror awaiting you. “A little uncomfortable?”, he hums above you. “Sorry about that, babe. Gonna have to do for now.” He stuffs his whole snout into your bush and groans. The feeling is alien, his muzzle warm and wet and you shudder with it. “You smell divine.”
When he pulls back, his dick is unsheathed, hard already. He palms himself while he stares down at you, dark eyes enraptured by your form. 
“You’re just-”, he grunts. “About the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen-”
He pinches the fat of your belly with a surprising gentleness, the sting tender. 
“Look at you, all soft and round. So perfect for me.”
He leans over and kisses and bites your neck, your shoulder, even your jaw - gently, which only freaks you out more. He really won’t stop, will fuck you in a matter of minutes and you can’t do anything about it. You know you aren’t ready to take him and he is definitely bigger than average in this form. The dread that blooms in your stomach feels like a punch to your gut. 
“Deep breaths, princess”, he rasps above you, able to read every single thought that flits through your head in your terror-filled eyes. “Nothing much you can do now.”
As sick as it is, it rings true somewhere deep in your panic-riddled brain. Bill shuffles around a little bit, without ever breaking eye contact. There is a warmth that touches your leg and you know exactly what it is - his cock rests heavy and hot on your skin. Slightly wet with pre-cum, it twitches between your thighs. You barely dare to peek down, not wanting to see what is about to happen.
“I’m gonna enjoy this.” Bill groans, buries his muzzle in your shoulder and pushes himself into you. He is incredibly thick and it burns. The feeling is unlike anything you’ve experienced before - raw fear for your life leaves you dry and clenched uncomfortably around his dick, making him snarl and hiss above you. You can feel your own tightness around him and fold your bound hands into nothing, fingernails digging themselves into your palms.
If only you had something to grasp, to make this more bearable. The only thing you can do now is grit your teeth and take it.
“Oh shit, princess”, he sighs, completely blissed out and without any regard for your pain. To your surprise, he bottoms out slowly and waits for you to adjust - or at least what he thinks adjusting is. You're still not ready when he finally starts fucking you in earnest, slow and deep. 
"Fuck-", Bill grits out directly into your ear, his voice muffled. "You got the perfect cunt, baby. So fucking- tight."
You pay little mind to his words, too focused on the steady push and pull, on the dry stab of his cock.
“Knew it when I first saw you that you'd be perfect for me. And I'm gonna-”, he moans obscenely loud as your cunt flutters around him. “I’m gonna fuck you full of my pups- just wait-” The thought of being pregnant with this monster’s child almost makes you weep. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”, he groans, his pace picking up. “My cute little wife. That’s what you’ll be, princess.” The sentence earns him another threatening growl from Evan. He only laughs in response, deep and unspeakably ugly. “Yeah, you’ll be perfect-”, his hips crash into yours as he fucks you even faster, the sound vulgar and loud in the otherwise silent shack. “I’m gonna make sure that this little cuck will cry himself to sleep for the rest of his life. Gonna give you a bunch of brats-” It’s clear that he’s just rambling now, too entrenched in his own pleasure. But the thought still makes you still freeze in fear, the very possible future of being with his child terrifying. He’ll give you at least one, to claim you. Ruin you forever.
You clench around him in fear and he loses it - snarling, drooling and almost hollering above you, he fucks you so hard your head gets pushed into the wall again, every thrust bending your neck into an awkward angle.
You know he has to be close now and you’re grateful for it. One, two heartbeats pass as keeps pounding you so hard you know you’ll feel his dick in you for days to come.
“Oh- fuck”, he grits out as he buries himself into fully, the stretch making you bite your cheeks to bear the pain. “I’m gonna knock you up-” And then he’s spilling himself into you, the hot, wet feeling of his cum deep within you. Bill yelps and shouts as he empties himself into you, various curses and praise peppered in between the moans. It takes him a good minute to calm down again, to collect himself.
Still a little out of breath, he smiles down at you with almost sadistic glee as he licks the side of your sweaty face. “Come on, cuck. Time to get your sloppy seconds.” He’s on his legs in a heartbeat, still marveling at the mess he made just seconds ago. “You better do it quickly because my swimmers are already working their way up there”, Bill laughs and all but shoves Evan out of the way as he goes back to his place in the corner. “Have fun, boy.”
The younger man is by your side in an instant.
“It's okay, honey, it's okay”, he whispers, those big green eyes filled with tears. He tries to soothe you and strokes the top of your head but the gesture only freaks you out more. “This is all my fault, and I'm sorry, so sorry.”
The apology would have been a little more sincere if his dick wasn’t already poking your thigh.
“Oh, darling”, he sighs tearfully. “I’m so sorry it had to be like this- I just- ”, he starts but interrupts himself with a hiccup. “I swear, if I had talked to you sooner-” Not even the snicker from Bill’s corner can snap him out of it. “But I’m gonna make it right. You’ll see, I’m gonna make it up to you, darling”, he babbles on, his words only unsettling you more and more. “You’ll have to forgive me, yeah? You have to.”
He’s a goddamn lunatic. 
You can’t help but look back at the older man, almost wanting him to intervene. Before you can make any eye contact, you’re pushed into a hairy chest by a tight hug. “I promise. But first, we’re gonna get through this”, Evan rumbles out above you, making the dread flare up again.
He wastes no time after that. You’re freed from his arms and placed on the ground - gently, but with unsteady hands. He looks as though he’s drooling above you, parting your legs and sniffing your belly with anticipation. His cock seems to be a little smaller than Bill’s, but considerably thicker - it bobs up and down as he licks your stomach, your tits and your neck, his tongue almost shy.
At least Bill’s cum serves as a lubricant, you think, as sick as it is. “My pretty girl”, he hums. “And soon all mine.”
And indeed, the stretch is almost bearable as he enters you. You’re glad he doesn’t reach as deep as Bill does because the speed at which he fucks you is sloppy and fast from the start - he pushes into you with so much need and desperation it knocks the air out of your lungs with every thrust.
“I love you”, he moans. “And we’re gonna- we’re gonna spend our lives together, yeah? I’m gonna take such good care of you-”
He’s talking himself into a frenzy, his words nothing but the lovesick rambles of a freak - they just make you feel more hollow. “Really love you, angel- oh-”
His muzzle opens and he kisses you over the duct tape, tongue pressed against the plastic and spit sliding down to the sides of your face. He doesn't seem to mind, not with the way he moves his jaw against your taped mouth, frantic and uncoordinated. It’s disgusting.
Unable to move away, you can only press your eyes together and let it run down your skin.
“You’ll love me too, I know it. Just know it-”, he pushes your hands onto your chest as a leverage to go even faster. “We were made for each other.” “We’ll forget about this and live happily ever after.” Now he sounds completely delusional.
His twisted little fantasy of domestic life with you only spurs him on, his moans getting more choppy and broken with every slap of his hips against yours. He seems to be a quicker shot than the older man, too hung up on his bizarre dreams and hopes. You thank whatever godly entity out there for it.
“Fuck- darling, I think I’m about to-”, he whines but doesn’t get any further before his orgasm rips through him.
You’re a proper mess now. The second load of cum feels obscene within you, all warm and sticky as it spills out around his dick and onto your quivering thighs. He fucks into you for another few, sloppy thrusts before he stops to catch his breath. Evan looks so calm suddenly - gone are the tears, the shakiness. He gently kisses the top of your head, the gesture tender. 
“You lovebirds okay?”, Bill says, his voice suddenly quiet, higher.
Evan’s head snaps again, a weak growl telling the other to stop his teasing. You use the shift to peek up from underneath  him, curious as to what changed. A naked man stands in that same corner in Bill’s stead, smoking a cigarette without a care in the world. Salt and pepper hair is fluffed up on his head, slightly greasy - your tired eyes have seen him once, you’re sure of it. 
“Like what you’re seeing, babe?”, he grins and whistles out some smoke. 
“Leave her be, Bill. She deserves some peace now.” He barks out a laugh, then takes another drag from his cigarette. “Yeah, yeah. I hear you.” Finally, Evan pulls out, forcing out an obscene amount of cum and fluids out of your abused cunt as he withdraws. It lands on the floor beneath you unceremoniously, the noise sickening. He caresses your stomach before he gets up, already contemplating how you’ll look like swollen with his child. “We’ll have to wait a little but she’ll stink like one of us soon”, Bill snickers at the sight, one chipped tooth just as pronounced as it is in his wolf form. He pats Evan on the shoulder in an almost brotherly fashion, both too worn out to fight anymore. Bill stomps out the cigarette with another sigh and stretches as though he is simply a little tired from a long day. He grins before holding the door open, the world outside already dark.
“Don’t worry, princess. We’ll be back tomorrow morning to make it stick.”
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End note: And? Who would you pick? Maybe even both? Do tell me 👀💕
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