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myfictionaldreams · 1 year

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Hi, hello! I see requests are open and if you’re liking this idea, I hope you enjoy writing it. If not, it’s more than okay🙈🥺

OKAY OOKKAAAY!!

What if the winter soldier was triggered because of the high amount of stress + torture Bucky goes through while kidnapped by whoever.

Yes the Wakanda’s deprogrammed the soldat but no one really thought pass that. So when Bucky is kidnapped and put under that stress the WS is triggered, comes out to save himself/ Bucky from it

My Little Sun // Bucky/WS x fem!reader

A/N: Thank you so much for the request! I hope you enjoy ღ

Tags: sfw, lots of angst, fluff, description of injuries, reference to torture, trauma response, anxiety, crying, overprotective (to the absolute max), possessive, sam wilson is a great friend

Words: 5.3k

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link

The days were endless but the nights were torturous when he wasn’t there. The silence, the coolness of the sheets, the empty coffee cup left on the side, it wasn’t how it was supposed to be and that only made it all the more difficult to be in your home.

“I’ll be back in a few days Doll, it’s not supposed to be a big deal anyway, Sam just needs an extra pair of super strong hands”. Bucky always attempted to use his humour to try and ease the anxieties he knew that would be your worst enemy whilst he was away.

Hundreds of missions you’d been there to wave him off, and welcomed him back without even a scratch but this only made it worse, your luck had to run out eventually, right?

Not that your and Bucky's story was the happiest, to begin with. The two of you had been together since Hydra days, having been the Winter Soldier’s nurse until Alexander Pierce noticed the Asset responded better to your orders. For years and years, he only trusted you, even through the mental “resets” or being frozen, the Winter Solider would only trust you. This had its positives and negatives that Pierce liked to use against you but, when Steve Rogers finally found out about his best friend was alive, everything changed. This wasn’t the end of your story though, for two years following this, the two of you were on the run, then lived in Wakanda, saying a farewell to Winter Soldier, then the blip. Both of you were gone for five years which you were in a way thankful for, not sure either could cope without the other and now, after Steve was gone, Bucky was on the road to recovery - with the additional missions with Sam Wilson.

This wasn’t as bad for you but having returned to nursing meant that you couldn’t always be there when he returned or be able to check your phone for updates. At least the role kept you busy, as the days ticked by and finally, as the day of his return was due, you were stuck on restocking, which meant you could stare at your phone, waiting for the jet to return.

The second the phone buzzed, you were off, heart hammering in your chest with the adrenaline, rushing to the headquarters.

Maybe it was your anxiety that overthought the atmosphere in the room, overthinking why it was so quiet, no rushing of agents to unload the jet. It had to also be your anxiety as to why no one seemed to look into your eye or even smile and wave at your arrival, everyone was probably tired.

As you waited in your usual spot, your foot tapping anxiously against the stone floor, it was taking a lot longer to unload the jet. Eventually, an agent approached, suggesting you sit in one of the conference rooms, at least there you could sit down with a glass of water. They were just being polite, there was definitely nothing wrong, even as the 30-minute wait time turned into an hour. You tried to keep your spirits up, knowing that if those negative whispers at the back of your mind started to shout, you’d lose all composure. It was only a few days that they’d been away, only to infiltrate some stolen goods from being trafficked across the borders.

But then, it was strangely close to a known Hydra camp that had been whispered about throughout the underground market with recent activity. A shiver passed through your body at even the mere thought of the name that had ruined so many people's likes, it was almost like a swear word you weren’t allowed to think about.

The years of torture, life-ruining time spent with those demons and through it all Bucky was your saving grace, he always had been, even with the Asset’s mindset. There had always been hope and that had come in the shape of Steve Rogers and most importantly Shuri, giving the Winter soldier the peace to be deprogrammed and allowing Bucky to try and proceed with the life he should have had. Even though it had been years, there was always a small inkling in your mind that the Winter Soldier was ready to be released beneath the surface, something just holding him back and with one wrong move he would be set free and chaos would be caused.

So as the minutes ticked by, waiting and waiting, the anxiety soon felt like impending doom, your chest ready to split open in fear.

Then finally, after nearly two hours of waiting, it all came crashing down as Sam Wilson slowly opened the door by himself, shutting it soundly behind him. He was still in his Captain America uniform, blood and dirt coating it.

You had stood as soon as the door handle turned, facing Sam, tears welling in your eyes, all control disappearing. Attempting to look into the light in the ceiling to stop the tears from falling, something wasn’t sitting right in your gut, it hadn’t for days, almost like an intuition.

“Is he dead?” your voice wobbled as you tried to hold on from having a complete meltdown, knees locking to stop from shaking and falling.

Sam took a deep breath, making sure to look you in the eye. “He’s not dead, but he hasn’t returned with us. We were ambushed”.

“Who…”

“Hydra”.

That one word, the tainted ugly word was enough to have your body giving up on any strength that it had retained. Sam was quick to catch you before you slammed to the floor, easing the seat beneath you and pouring a glass of fresh water, making sure you took a sip before sitting in the seat next to you.

His hand rested on yours as it lay in your lap, as he began to explain the situation and you were so very grateful for your friend, not trusting yourself to speak at that current moment.

They’d been ambushed, the entire operation was a setup and even the agents, specifically, Bucky was able to hold the enemy back, eventually, they had surrounded him and before Sam could reach him, they had gone.

“I knew this would happen” you eventually declared, looking at Sam’s tired face. “I knew they would get to him, I’ve heard the rumours and the threats but no one seemed to take them seriously! Sam what if they-”

“I know what you’re going to say but that will not happen, Ok? Zemo’s tried it, and others have attempted it. Bucky is just Bucky, Shuri has made sure that the Winter Soldier was deprogrammed so let’s try not to lose control here, we need to concentrate on getting him back and safely.”

There was no reason to disagree with him but the thoughts continued to send you into a panic, spiralling through your head causing only more detriment to your mental health but you wouldn’t verbally say them, wouldn’t want to manifest them into a reality.

“He’s not dead, I would know if he were”, you knew it didn’t make sense, you didn’t have a tracker on his heart but through everything the two of you had shared, it was almost like a silent connection. He often joked that you were both two of the same coin and you truly believed that too.

“He’s not, I believe that too, they wouldn’t want to kill him so quickly”. Saying it like that had sour bile threatening to spill from your mouth so you forced yourself to drink another sip of water, silent tears dripping down your cheeks.

“So what do we do now? Are there people searching for him?”

“Of course, we have everyone out there searching the area, drones are scanning the ground to sense any underground holdings. We aren’t stopping for even a moment. The only reason I’ve returned is that I wanted to be the one to tell you and get some more supplies”.

You tried to half-ass a smile, looking back at Sam with sincerity. “Thank you, I do appreciate it coming from you Sam. What time do we go-”

“That’s the other reason I’m here because I know you’d somehow get involved in the search and I’m sorry but I can’t have you anywhere near the site.”

The overwhelming urge to shout took over your body so much that you had to take a deep breath, rolling back your shoulders, ignoring the heat that had settled in your cheeks. “Listen, Sam, I can be useful please, I know what Hydra are like”.

“I understand that but, you’ve got to see it from my perspective as well. They’ve got Bucky, now what would happen if they also captured you too? What could they make Bucky do if you were in harm's way? Even without the Winter Soldier, Bucky would kill anyone if it meant keeping you protected so there’s no way I’m letting that happen.”

This also made sense but it still didn’t stop your stomach from clenching as you refrained from arguing. As you tried to settle your emotions, you took in your friend, really looked at him and saw the overwhelming exhaustion and fear settled within his eyes.

“We’ll find him, Sam. Come on, I’ll clean you up, that’s a nasty scratch you’ve got there”, referring to the gash across his forehead. You wanted to be a good friend as much as he has been for you but also, it was a good distraction to fall into work habits.

Working soon became your only salvation, after looking after Sam and watching him return to the jet, you’d made your way back to work yourself. It was the only distraction that had worked and after nearly three days, it had quickly consumed your life, having not returned home once since discovering the news. If you weren’t working, you were sleeping in the changing rooms, showering there, eating vending machine food and returning for the shift.

If you didn’t do this, you’d have a complete and utter breakdown and it also stopped you from getting into a car or plane and going out to where he had been taken. You were sure that the agents were becoming fed up with your ungodly amount of phone calls but every update was needed, even though there had currently been absolutely nothing.

Eventually on the fourth day, your superior ordered you to go home for a full 12 hours but this only meant that you could go back to the office and watch the agents work. None of them asked you to leave which you were thankful for but it was an endless cycle after this, working as a nurse and then sitting with agents.

Four days soon turned into eight which was also when Sam returned again. He’d been out there every single day searching for Bucky, trying to find any clues and it was mostly his activity that you’d watch on the screen day after day.

Sam approached behind you, laying a hand on your shoulder, “let's go for a walk”.

You didn’t want to argue, following behind him as he led the way to the grounds, it felt odd to be outside for this amount of time.

“They called you back to talk to me, didn’t they?” You knew that your behaviour wasn’t normal but it was the only coping mechanism that you could handle right now and you weren’t interfering with anyone either.

“I’ve had my boss and your boss on the phone with me so yes, you’re quite the hot topic. I know you’re worried, I get it, I am too. But you’re going to kill yourself waiting around or working too hard. You need to go home, sweetheart, get some rest, and have an actual meal. If anything happens you’ll be the first person that I call.”

“I can’t go home Sam, not without him, we were supposed to go back together!”, any hope of salvaging the tears was useless as they began to drip down your cheeks.

“I understand that, but you know Buck would kill me if I didn’t look after you so for all of our sakes, let me please drive you home and I’ll even pick you up in the morning but I need you to look after yourself for once.”

The exhaustion truly hit you then, hoping that maybe you were so tired that you’d get in and fall asleep immediately, not having to think about the empty apartment. Eventually, you agreed to Sam’s request, letting him drive you back to your building which you stared at for a few minutes upon arrival, not making any effort to actually leave the safe space within the car.

“You can do this, if you need anything I’m just at the end of the phone”, he attempted to motivate you, which you were thankful for.

Turning to him in the car, you smiled softly, probably for the first time in eight days, “thanks Sam, I’m lucky to have you in my life”.

“If you keep talking like that you might even make me cry”, he tried to joke, pulling a genuine smile to your cheeks as you exited the car and finally made your way into the apartment. For a good two minutes, you silently stared at the front door, taking a step forward and as the key entered, a small sob escaped your mouth.

The apartment had never looked so dark before as the sun began setting outside, much too quiet as you stepped in. Bucky liked to always have noise even as he slept, mostly from a distraction from his thoughts so you took a leaf out of his book and rushed to turn on the TV.

The background did help slightly, rushing to shower and load the washer but the place felt haunting, even though this was all in your head. Attempting to keep busy, you cleaned the apartment, emptying the contents fridge that held a lot of gone-off food, the milk having solidified so quickly, you threw it into the trash.

Heading downstairs, you disposed of the trash bag into the dumpsters, taking your time to go back as the stars twinkled in the night sky above.

Just as you were outside your apartment door, you stopped. On the floor, was a singular drop of blood at the threshold of the door, that you’d left open as the area was usually secure.

Patting your body quickly for your phone, you cursed for leaving it on the side. Also, you checked that somehow you’d not scratched yourself or even had a nosebleed but there was nothing. The sensible decision would have been leaving the building and not coming back but something within you drew you into the apartment, stepping quietly and turning on the main light, illuminating the kitchen and living room area.

Bucky’s name whispered at the back of your thoughts but you couldn’t let your hopes be lifted. There were no further blood spots anywhere in your home, and as you entered the bedroom, the last room to check, there were no signs of anything wrong, nothing was out of your place, even your phone was still left laying on the side as you reentered the main living space.

This was when a force bulldozed into you, a large hand covering your mouth and a sharp knife held at your throat, pressing over your artery as the weight pushed you back until colliding with the wall. Momentarily you were winded but the sight before you had instant tears welling in your eyes, a sob bubbling in your throat, the hand over your mouth stopping you from crying out the name, Bucky.

There he was, standing over you and there was so much to take in. He was coated in dirt and blood, fresh and dried. Cuts, grazes, gashes, bruises, every form of injury littered the exposed parts of his body, the rest were covered in filthy joggers and a shirt that you suspected to once be grey but now were mixed between black and red, especially the large blood patch in his abdomen that looked fresh.

Bucky had super soldier serum, he would always heal quicker than others, in fact, the paper-thin scratches that you noticed should have healed as you looked at them to nothing more than a pink line but they stayed, unhealed.

However, through everything, it was his eyes that had your thoughts screaming on red alert. The eyes, the stare, that you hadn’t seen in years.

Not panicking was key so even with the knife at your throat, you dropped your shoulders, showing you had no fear, the Winter Soldier always hated when you looked frightened of him. The usual soft clear blue eyes of Bucky were now hard and slightly glazed over as he looked down at your shorter form.

Trying to maintain your courage and not falter, you began to lift your hands, palms up, showing that there are no weapons and you meant no harm but the Asset already knew this. Taking a risk, you wrapped your hands around his wrists, gently earring them away from their hold against you.

The Winter Soldier did not fight it at all.

“Soldier?” you asked tentatively as his hand was removed from your mouth.

The Asset collapsed and any attempt you had to catch him was in vain as he weighed a lot more than you could carry but thankfully, you managed to cup the back of his head before it collided with the floor.

“Buck- Soldier? Open your eyes, please!” desperately you cradled his face, stroking both thumbs against his bruised cheekbones but he was out cold, not even his eyes flickered.

Nurse mode kicked in as you instantly went to the dark area at his abdomen, lifting his shirt to see a stab wound that was still bleeding slowly. Rushing off your feet, you grabbed the first aid pack from the cupboard as well as your phone, leaving it at your side to quickly put pressure onto the wound.

This woke him up as he grunted in pain, his breaths leaving him in quick bursts as he attempted to grip your wrists.

“Shh it’s ok, I’m going to look after you, I just need to stop the bleeding, I know it hurts, I’m sorry”.

“Солнышко”, he whispered a name that you had not heard in a long time. Years ago, the Soldier had whispered it to you so no one could hear. Eventually, it was the only name he would call you, and one day, it was translated for you. “Little sun”. As he began to regain his memories after escaping Hydra, he would talk about why this name, only repeating that you were his light in a world full of darkness, therefore, his little sun.

“It’s ok, Soldier, you’re going to feel better, I just need you to stay still, let go of my wrists”.

He did instantly, always listening to you.

The wound was still bleeding, and you silently cursed at yourself for not having more resources to care for him but every time you’d care for his wounds after a mission recently, it had been at the facility. “What did they do to you?” your words were only a whisper, a question more for yourself as the panic began to set in.

Glancing up into his eyes, you found that he had passed out again, allowing you to call someone. Easing one hand off of the wound, quickly unlocking your phone and selecting the first name to pop up, it answers within two rings.

“It’s not even been two hours yet, that’s not enough time-” Sam tried to joke on the other end of the line but you had to cut him off.

“He’s here”.

Sam paused for a second like he didn’t quite understand what you’d said.

“What? What do you mean he’s there-”

“I mean, what I said Sam! He’s here, passed out on the floor and he's injured sam, I need some help, please!”

“Ok, ok I’ll get the medics to go to your apartment, I’ll head there now as well.”

“Wait Sam, that’s not the only thing. He’s not- He’s not Bucky”.

“Shit.” Sam cursed loudly.

“I can’t have them taking him away again”, you needed the medics but the risk of the Winter Soldier waking up in a room full of strangers was only bound to end in danger.

“They won’t take him away sweetheart, I’ll contact Shuri, it’ll be ok, we’ll sort out a plan.”

And this is exactly what they did. Turning up in force, you rushed to grab the equipment, ignoring the guns that were being pointed at Bucky.

“No one touches him but me, do you all understand?” Everyone agreed, Sam thankfully then turned up and was able to have the guns pointed somewhere than where you were. Eventually, it was decided that they would sedate him which was probably the best option compared to being on guard with guns. Even on transfer to the facility where he would heal, you stayed by his side, cleaning his wounds and suturing a few gashes. After all the scans and investigations, it was determined that other than the stab wound, he had a broken wrist, cracked three ribs, several fingernails missing and head to toe, covered in bruises, cuts and grazes and IV lines were giving him pain medication and antibiotics, he looked a mess.

He had stayed sedated for another day, allowing his body to try and heal. Sam had attempted to send you home once more, but in the end, you had agreed to change into some cream joggers and a t-shirt and then made a little nest next to his bed in the most comfortable chair available.

You’d dozed in your chair for a couple of hours, waking up to find Sam standing behind you but luckily no one else was, the armed guards currently waiting outside as the sedation was wearing off.

This wasn’t the only precaution and even after arguing about it for hours, they still placed, large cuffs across his body, particularly his metal arm, just in case he woke.

“He’s just gotten out of imprisonment and now he’s back in it”, you mumbled quietly, looking up and down his body.

“It’s not forever, it’s just a precaution”, Sam tried to ease your anxiety, something he seemed to be doing a lot of these days but you were thankful for your friend staying until Bucky woke up.

Leaning across the bed, you held the metal hand, the feeling giving some comfort.

“This feels weird waiting for the Winter Soldier to wake up and you’re just casually there holding his hand.”

Smiling sadly at Sam’s statement, you continued to watch Bucky, or should you be say the Winter Soldier? It was all so confusing, and there was still some hope that it would be Bucky waking up.

Just as your eyes became heavy, Bucky’s hand suddenly flinched in yours and instantly you were sitting further up on your chair, leaving over him.

“Bucky?” your fingers drifted through his short brunette hair. At first, his eyes didn’t open but he furrowed his brows like he was willing himself to wake up. “It’s ok, I’m here, I’m not going anywhere”, you whispered, leaning in to kiss his forehead, mindful of his injuries. Standing back up, his eyes were now open, staring at you and now it was noticeable that the whites of his eyes were stained with red but at least he could open them properly.

“Buc- … Soldier? How do you feel?” at the near mention of Bucky’s name, the heart rate monitor began to increase in speed so you resorted back to trying to calm him. “You’re safe, it’s ok. Your wounds aren’t healing like they usually would so I’m just keeping a close eye on you.”

“They laced the knives with a special solution”. You’d not expected him to speak so soon, it was gruff from lack of use but his tone was softer than anything the Soldier had ever used.

“What?”

“They bathed the knives in some green solution before cutting me and it’s stopped me from healing.” The sick feeling returned to your stomach with full force, dreading to ever find out what had happened that they had tortured him enough for the Winter Soldier to come out.

“You’re healing well now though which is the main thing. It just might have to be at the same rate as us normal lot”.

Leaning forward once more, your lips softly kissed his temple, fingers still coming through his hair. The sound of his shackles shaking had you looking down at his hands, he’d tried to reach for you too but had been restricted. The Asset also looked down in confusion as to why he was being chained up but his eyes didn’t even glance at the straps, instead, he saw Sam at the end of his bed.

“Soldier, it’s fine, they’re friendly, they just want to help you.”

This wasn’t enough for him, the heart rate spiking to a dangerous level as his muscles struggled against the cuffs, his body straining as he tried to escape. “Calm down Soldier, listen to me Buck-Soldier, stop please, it’s safe!”

It was no use as the more he struggled, the more the guards were getting antsy and before long they were entering the room and pointing their guns at him. Sam began shouting now but that made no difference as the Asset had ripped his arms out of the shackles and the other cuffs were like pieces of string, easily ripped off.

“Point your guns somewhere else! Please get out, I don’t want him to hurt you”, it was complete and utter chaos, you were sure your heart was beating as fast as the one displayed on the monitor. “Stop pulling them out, they are there to help you”, you shouted at the Soldier as he ripped the IVs out of his arm and detached himself from the monitors.

In the next second, his metal arm was gripping around your middle as he raced out of the bed, staggering slightly with his injuries but that didn’t deter him from pushing you into the corner, standing in front with only his hospital gown on.

Now you were even more confused. The Winter Soldier was the world’s most dangerous assassin and on many occasions, he had killed to protect you but here he was, not making that step to kill anyone, simply just standing in front of you, being a barrier between the guns and your person.

“Everyone needs to stop this, now!” Sam shouted, holding his hands out in front of the guards.

Placing your hand in the middle of the Soldier’s back, you tried to speak to him, “you- you don’t need to protect me from these people, they are your friends Soldat”.

“I know who they are”, he revealed, looking at Sam now. “I’m not the Soldier, not to the fullest extent. I still have my mind but he’s there at the forefront, I want to kill you all but not because I’ve been ordered to but because I need to protect- WE, need to protect her but I can’t get through to him that you’re safe to be around.”

“Oh Bucky”, you muttered, laying your forehead against his back for a second, savouring his warmth before standing on your tip toes to look over his shoulder. “Please can you leave us for a moment, even if it's just outside the door, I just need you all to leave us”.

It took some stern words from Sam and arguments before they relented and exited, with Sam giving a final nod before thankfully closing the door, leaving the two of you in peace.

“Sit down before you hurt yourself anymore”, you encouraged Bucky as he held onto the stab wound, turning to face where you stood in the corner of the room. Your breaths were coming out in quick bursts, as your eyes flicked between his two confused ones.

Lifting his metal hand, he gently cupped your cheek which you thankfully grabbed, holding it there, having never been more grateful for a moment until now.

“You look sad, and you haven’t been eating properly”, he uttered, looking across your face.

Brushing away his hands, “Yes well, I’m going to be pissed if you don’t get into this bed right now!”

“Yes ma’am” he retorted with the sarcastic tone you’d grown so fond of. Bucky grunted as he eased himself into bed, brushing away the mess left behind by the destroyed cuffs.

As you began to sit in your seat, he requested, “lie with me”.

“Nice try Barnes but there will be no lying with you, not on that tiny bed, now lie back and heal”. It sounded like you were chastising a child but it was for his own good, the stubborn man.

At the mention of the name Barnes, his eye twitched slightly before rolling his neck and settling back into the pillows. Even though you would lie with him, you still sat as close as you could, holding his flesh hand which was covered in bandages.

“What did they do to you?”

“You don’t want to know Doll”.

He never hid anything from you, maybe it was for the best that he didn’t give you the details whilst everything was so fresh for him.

“Explain to me what you meant that he was in your mind, so you’re Bucky… but you aren’t?”

“Sort of. I think it got to a point where something snapped in my subconscious and he came out but I mean, it worked. His ruthless aggression was just the push I needed to snap my wrist out of the chains and get me or us- out of there”.

You weren’t sure what to say so he continued his explanation. “I have enough control not to kill them lot out there, but he’s still in here, lingering, ready to kill if needs be”, he pointed at his head.

“Well I’m very glad you didn’t kill poor Sam, he just about shit himself”.

Bucky laughed but then winched, gripping his fractured ribs.

“So what do you want to do now? I think Shuri is coming here”.

“That’s probably for the best, it would be nice not to want to kill my friends. I do ask one thing of you though, don’t leave my side”.

Your heart broke at the sincere note to his tone, tears threatening to spill enough that you had to look away from him.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you upset”, Bucky tried to sit up to comfort you but you were quick to push his shoulders back into the pillows, moving to now sit on the edge of his bed, cupping his cheek as he continued his explanation. “I just meant, that if you weren’t here, I can already feel how agitated he is thinking about it. What I’m getting at is for everyone’s safety, don’t leave the Winter Soldier. You’re going to have to just deal with us overbearing pair for a little bit, that’s also why we came straight home rather than a hospital”.

“I think I can deal with that for a little while longer”, finally you were able to grin and truly mean it, leaning in to kiss his lips softly.

It was only a second long but he was already trying to deepen it which caused the pain to flare in his face.

You laughed sitting away from him, “you need to heal first Romeo, both of you do”.

Bucky’s eyes softened, before revealing, “he’s missed you. I’ve missed you”.

“I’ve missed you both too, my overprotective murderer”, you joke, kissing his bandaged hand. At this point, Bucky’s eyes had begun to become heavy, dropping slightly. “Get some rest, I’ll be here when you wake up.

“You better me, otherwise I’m killing everyone in that hallway, Солнышко”.

A/N: Солнышко - little sun. I must admit that I used google to find the translation so apologies if this isn't correct.

#bucky barnes #winter soldier #bucky one shot #bucky x reader #winter soldier x reader #bucky barnes one shot #marvel one shot #winter soldier one shot #mine*

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anjelicawrites · 3 months

Text

The perfect stay at home husband

Paring: Billy Washington x reader

Synopsis: slowly Billy learns to become the perfect house husband and welcomes his spouse home in the best of ways.

Warnings: dom / sub vibes, kissing, crying, oral (f receiving), hair pulling, collar and leash usage, Billy being very needy, ‘pup’ used a pet name, f masturbation with a rabbit vibrator.

A/N: reader is AFAB but not described. Where needed, they/them pronouns used.

NSFW and 18+ only under the cut!

Your life with Billy didn’t start in the best of ways. Indeed, the fact that he was jobless didn’t help his mental health; that the job market was, and still is, a nightmare for someone without big credentials like his, was another nail in that specific coffin. To you it wasn’t an issue, you didn’t think any less of him because of this, temporary, condition and you were more than happy to provide for the two of you, your job paying you well enough for the feat; if only Billy pulled his weight at home!

You had told Lana repeatedly that their parents didn’t do a good job at making sure Billy was capable of taking care of himself, he mostly left the bulk of the housework to you and would look at you with his baby blue opened wide, telling you he didn’t realize that those chores needed to be carried out.

One Friday you literally exploded at him, screaming that he wasn’t a guest in the house and that you were sick and tired of picking up his slack! You didn’t even give him the chance to explain himself, you left slamming the door and went to your friend’s house to spend the night, getting absolutely hammered in the process.

Billy came to pick you up in the morning, his head more hidden between his shoulders than usual, the judging glares of your friend didn’t help his already crumbling self worth: he knew well enough your friend didn’t like him and believed you could have so much better than him. You two walked home blanketed by a tick silence, only enhanced by the sounds of London around you two, your head hurting and him more pathetic than his usual self.

The apartment wasn’t as messy as you left it the day before: the array of dirty plates and cups had disappeared from the sink, the reusable shopping bags all neatly folded and the mountain of shoes shelved in the shoe rack next to the door.

“That's all I could do.” Billy told you, his eyes not truly meeting yours. “You were right, I should help you more with housework. I don’t know what to do, but I’ll try.”

You cupped his cheek and he nuzzled your palm like a cat: he missed you last night, his guilty heart keeping him awake most of the night.

“You can ask me, if you want. And there’s Google to help you.”

And that’s where you made a huge mistake: not considering how much of a people pleaser Billy is, how much he lives to be told that he's done good and that he is not as subpar as he thinks he is.

He tries, bless his heart, but his learning curve is very steep.

You’ve lost count of the amount of shirts he burned while ironing, or the plants he knocked off by mistake while he was dusting, or that one time he tried to unclog the drain and almost flooded the apartment.

And then there's TikTok.

In his personal quest to become good at maintaining the apartment clean, he stumbles upon the videos of people mixing up chemicals, and he follows them religiously, without truly thinking about which detergents he's using at the same time, if he should put those together and that, perhaps, he should keep the window open. You've lost count of the amount of times your local A&E called, because he's almost poisoned himself; you are basically on a friendship level with the nurses there and one, a friendly brunette, has told you they tend to get worried when they don't see Billy pop up every once in a while.

As steep as his learning curve had been, he's now become very good at keeping the house spotless, so much so you two decided he should be a stay at home husband, by the time you two tightened the knot.

It had taken him a while to unpack all the toxic ideas he was raised with, how a man should be and act: be the breadwinner or be a failure, find yourself a job and don’t live off your spouse and housework is not real work and it’s not for a man to do. It hasn’t been easy for him to accept that he could still be a man and take care of you in ways that aren’t a big paycheck, that the world outside, how competitive it is, isn’t truly for him, and that he isn’t less of a man for this.

The last nail in the coffin had been your promotion and the probable move to the Milan office; neither of you wanted to suffer through a long distance relationship and the meager positions Billy had applied for, didn’t have the option for him to work overseas. When Milan stopped being an option, you both had decided that he should still stay at home and be happy.

When you unlock the door you welcome the sight of Billy kneeling on a pillow, naked and collared, with his head bent and the leash neatly folded in his hands; his eyes fleetingly meet yours to then focus on the freshly clean carpet again.

“Welcome back” He says with a deep voice, tinged with a need you know all too well.

“Hi sweetling.” You answer back.

Slowly you remove your shoes and leave them on the rack; you savor the feel of the carpet under your feet and that your heels are finally off for the day. Through your lashes you observe Billy’s body vibrate with need and decide to play with him, because you haven’t tormented him in a while.

You walk towards him and stand where he’s kneeling, your center in front of his face and you can see the way his pink tongue darts out to lick his beautiful lips.

“Is there something the matter, my love?” You ask with a sweet voice.

“Please.” He whines.

“What do you need, pup?”

His face falls against your skirt, right where your cunt is and he takes a long whiff.

“Use your words Billy.”

Your voice is stern now, your fingers in his hair hurt him when you force his face up, to stare at his expression.

“I need it, please.”

His voice is a pathetic, little whine, his eyes don’t meet yours to show his submission to you.

“Billy, Billy Billy.” You punctuate every iteration of his name with a strong pull to his hair. “You need to be more specific and don’t act like a dog in heat.”

With that you use your fist in his hair to pull him towards the couch; you could have used leash, you could have ordered him to walk, but you need that extra bout of ownership over him, as he does and he complies with small whines as he tries to crawl at your pace and can’t truly manage.

You lose your hold when you sit on the couch with your legs spread, Billy kneeling between them; you see the way his eyes focus on your, now, exposed panties. You can’t help but smirk at his naked desire, his need to bury his face in your cunt: with him is almost a daily occurrence, one way or another he’s on his knees, worshiping you, hungry for you like you are the only meal he’s going to have for days.

“I’m going to ask you for the last time, BIlly: what do you need, my sweet pup?”

“Please, let me eat you?”

For the first time since you returned home, his pretty blue eyes bore into yours, so huge and sad and pathetic.

“But I’ve been out and about for the whole day Billy, I need a shower.”

You pretend to stand up and he panics, his hands go to your hips and his face burrows against your clothed cunt.

“No, no, please! Don’t make me wait!”

You try to dislodge his face from between your legs and he just curls his hands tighter around the soft meat of your hips, as he whines, desperately against your clothed cunt, the vibrations traveling up your spine, almost stealing a moan from you.

“Billy! Billy!” You try to say as you grab fistfuls of his hair to make him move. “Be good and behave or I will not let you eat me!”

You know that he knows you’re not kidding, your tone carries the weight of your treat, and he pulls his face back, but doesn’t stop him from pouting, staring at you with big, accusatory eyes.

You wind your hand around the leash before he can start any more shenanigans.

“I need you so bad!” He wails, with a pathetic, sad voice.

“I know I have been at work a lot, pup, but you should remember your manners, always.”

He looks contrite now, with his head lowered again.

“I just missed you so much.” He mumbles.

“As I did you. Look at me now.” You say with a firm, yet gentle, voice.

Billy complies, his eyes are glossy with unshed tears and his lower lip is bitten raw: he’s not kidding when he’s saying that he needs you badly.

“You will eat my pussy, eventually. I will have to punish you first, though.”

His breathing quickens after your words and the tears start to fall, silently they roll down his pink cheeks, making him look even more pathetic. You hug him and his long arms sneak around you, curling as tight as possible around your frame: he needs you, needs to know you’re not mad at him.

“Shh, sweetest pup, shh.” You kiss the crown of his head. “I love you so much.”

He cries harder at your words, the sobs wreak his big body and you have to hug him with all your strength, gently rocking your bodies until he calms down and lifts his head to look at you; his eyes are crystal clear, the color of the mountain sky after a rainstorm and his cheeks are apple red.

“Do you feel better?” You ask, caressing his cheekbones with your thumbs.

“Yes. I worked myself up over nothing. I’m sorry.” He sounds contrite and ashamed of himself.

“No pup, I’m the one that’s sorry. I’ve let work overrun my life, and that should have never happened.”

You tend to do that, hyperfocus and work yourself into exhaustion; even with Billy in your life you still make the mistake to forget that there’s a life outside your office. When you were still single, you were the only one suffering, but now you have to consider your husband’s feelings and needs as well, and you were terrible at that, as of late.

“I’ll tell you, next time. I will not let your job steal you away from me again.”

“Thank you, pup. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

You lean into him and kiss him slowly, tongue sliding against his with sensual strokes that have him moan wantonly, precume leaking from his reddened tip copiously with every slide of your tongue against his.

“Let’s go to bed. Your knees must be raw.”

“As long as you’re happy, I don’t care.”

“This is the reason why that’s my job.” You smile down at him.

You help him stand up and interlock your fingers with his; he stares at you as if you’re a miracle and you can’t help yourself but kiss his stubby cheek, giggling like a teenager.

You let him undress you, his big hands caress your body with gentle strokes that turn heated when your breasts and cunt are revealed to his hungry eyes.

“Go kneel on the bed, pup. I need something before you can feast on me.”

Billy follows your order with his eyes fixed on you, drinking down the sight of your naked skin as you retrieve the small box with the toys; you make sure he sees the rabbit vibrator in your hands, and the lube.

Leisurely you walk to the bed and stand behind him, before bending to kiss his nape.

“I’m going to be quick with your punishment. I’ve missed your mouth so much, pup” You whisper in his ear and he shudders, willing himself not to come untouched.

Billy is kneeling at the end of the bed, you sit with your legs spread and your back against the pillows; your hole is already wet and you know he can see it, the thought makes you clench and he moans.

“Are you thinking about my cunt strangling your cock? How tight I can be just for you?”

Billy moans and his hands curl into fists.

“Yes. I love your cunt so much.” He whines.

“What a good pup that you are.”

Looking straight into his blue eyes you uncap the lube and pour a generous amount on the vibrator, before turning it on and spreading your labia for Billy to see.

“Tell me, pup, why do you like my cunt so much?”

His intake of breath is visible when you insert the vibe which is set on the lowest speed.

“It’s…” He gulps. “It’s pretty and warm.”

He has to close his eyes when you start pumping the vibrator in and out, nice and slow, your eyes never leaving his.

“Yeah?” You moan.

“Your lips are so plump and soft. Christ please!”

“Keep going, pup.” Your hips jut up when you insert the vibe fully, letting the small part sit against your clit.

Billy is staring at your center unabashedly, his tongue is liking his lips with hunger.

“Puppy please, tell me more.”

You can feel your body arch under his stare and your hands go to your breasts to play with your nipples: you want to be as wet as possible for him, give him all of your essence.

“Taste so good.” He pants, visibly restraining himself. “So much of it for me, can live off it.”

“Yes, oh!”

The head of the vibe pushes against your G spot as you writhe on the bed and you almost come.

“Clit so small and pretty, needs licking and sucking, baby please!”

He’s so desperate, thinking about your perfect cunt has him fuck the air like a dog in heat and seeing you touching your body, all your muscles vibrating with pleasure, drives him absolutely mad, his nerves burning with the need for your body.

“Yes pup, come to me. Drink from me.”

You lift your hand to him and he jumps to you, hastily removing the vibe to suck your essence there and discard it on the bed.

He lays on the mattress and grabs your hips to plaster his face against your center, his tongue licking at your folds desperately, his nose pushing haphazardly against your puffy clit. You keen and moan, your hips pushing against his face as his tongue fucks you and you curl your muscles around it to feel him fully.

“Billy! Billy, yes!!!” You scream. “So close Billy!”

You explode in his face, and he keeps going, slipping one finger inside of you and sucking on your clit like a desperate man, the pad rough against your G spot and you fuck yourself against his face, the pleasure making you delirious for him.

“Fuck all my holes Billy” You keen. “I love you so much!”

You scream when you come again, tears streaming down your face when he doesn’t stop and licks fat stripes up and down your cunt, his hands hurt where he’s keeping you in place and your feet kick against his back, you beg and cry, too much pleasure burning through your body life wildfire.

You try to slip away and he grunts, making you jump, forcing you closer to his hungry mouth and tongue, his teeth nibble at your abused clit and you squirm and cry, your body arching under him, so much pleasure, too much pleasure frying your brain,

It hurts, you can’t get enough of him, so much pressure builds inside of you, his tongue flicks your poor clit and his lips suck it harshly as you whine and cry.

He slurps on your honey, hungry and fast, your nerves burning for him, your hands in his hair grabbing the strands with desperation; his moans destroy you and you squirt all over him, his tongue fast to lick everything you’re giving him, until it hurts and he lets go, only to lay his face on your tummy, breathing your intoxicating scent in.

“So good, Billy.” You smil, drunkenly at him.

BIlly stares at you with adoring eyes, his lips leave small kisses on your tummy and you laugh, his stubble tickles you and, you fear, you’re going to have burns everywhere on your tights.

“Were you serious?” He asks, after a bit.

“About what?”

He’s cuddling you now, keeping your face close to his chest.

“Me using all your holes.”

His cheeks burn bright with embarrassment and you hug him with all your might.

“I very much like it, Billy. I love your cock so much and I would gladly let you use it on me however you want.”

Billy almost chokes on his tongue and can’t meet your eyes.

“Even your arse?”

Sweet Billy; you don’t laugh because you know he will likely feel offended. He’s still exploring his sexuality, trying with you all that he has never had the courage to do in his past relationships.

“Even that. I want to feel you for days. Every time I walk and sit, I want to remember the weekend you fucked me like a whore.”

Billy’s hips stutter against your tummy, and you feel a drop of come splutter against your skin.

“Would you like that, pup?”

Billy’s eyes cross at the mere idea: he’ll do anything you want, tarnish your body in all the ways you’ll order him to use.

“Yes.” He moans. “I can’t wait.”

#billy washington #billy washington x reader #billy washington x y/n

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gravedigginbbydoll · 2 months

Text

Hawkins University : The Munson Edition

64.media.tumblr.com

AN: Hey, y'all. Haha tricked you into thinking this would be another Eddie POV, huh? Sorry but we need more of Bug first to really get the drama going! Hope you're doing well :) This chapter goes further into smut but also romance and a bit of drama! Pls remember that reblogs and comments are appreciated! Also feedback!

→ cliches: friends to lovers, heavy use of nicknames instead of Y/N, we're all just struggling college kids, Music Tutor! Eddie, Resident Assistant! Reader, good girl x bad boy, instant connections, 'I don't trust most people but I trust you', 'are we friends or more?', and 'I can't believe you're such a slut that you have a special dtf drawer...'

→ warnings: mature topics, insecurity, hurt and comfort, drinking and drug usage, strong language, bullying, mental health, discussion of suicide and self harm, mature thoughts, eventual smut, minors dni

→ pairing: modern!college!eddie x college!fem!reader

Chapter 9

Bug's POV

It was about a week later, you and Eddie getting ready for finals, ignoring the looming fact that you would be separated for a month. You were headed home briefly for the holidays (though you were postponing it as long as you could) and Eddie was staying with Steve up until Christmas Eve, then going to his Uncle Wayne’s.

He had invited you to The Hideout again, Corroded Coffin playing for the town’s Krampusfest, a silly little tradition that consisted of some people dressed up like Santa or Krampus, a local market and food trucks, along with musicians playing at the local bar. You were in the crowd with the rest of the gang, all of them dressed appropriately. Steve and Robin wearing goofy matching Santa hats with their sweaters, both of them holding beers and laughing a little too loudly at the local artist selling goofy ceramic holiday themed dicks, the artist both blushing and beaming at their wonder. Jonathan and Argyle brought edibles, which made you laugh a bit in contrast to their ugly Christmas sweaters. Nancy was dressed in an absolutely adorable green sweater with a black skirt and tights, complete with a soft red bow in her hair, half of her hair pulled back.

You were packed into the outdoor area of the Hideout, you and the rest of the gang off towards the side. You tried to ignore the swirling fear and sourness in your belly, nursing a cup of warm mulled wine, your heart getting that familiar squeeze. It didn’t slip past you that lately, more and more cute girls showed up to whistle at Eddie during his shows. In the crowd you spotted girls dressed to the nines, makeup flawless. They were looking around, hoping for Eddie. It’s not as if Eddie ever gave them the time of day. But you still felt like you were competing. I mean, the girls who showed up were so different from you. You felt yourself chewing on your lip before Steve and Robin caught your attention, the pair jumping up and down and screeching. You turned toward the stage to see Eddie and the rest of the band. Eddie clearly caught your eyes, his outfit making you salivate. scantily clad in a black cropped shirt with the sides almost entirely cut out, his tattoos and muscles out on display. His hair was down and he wore smudged black eyeliner with red glitter smeared across his eyelids, his guitar slung low across on his back. His blood red and diy patched jeans were tight and worn at the knees, making your mind swim with the last time he wore them.

Eddie on his knees, you laying on his bed, his hands spreading your legs as he looked up at you through thick lashes. Eddie’s lips wrapped around your-

You felt your face burst into flames as Eddie stared at you with a smirk, clearly reading your thoughts. He winked at you, grinning devilishly. Your heart melted, your skin tingling as Eddie strolled up to the microphone, grinning. He gripped it with his hands, looking out among the crowd before speaking.

“Hey Hawkins…How we doin’ tonight?!,” Eddie cheered, the crowd erupting into screams.

“Now we got a very special show for you all, full of holiday cheer or whatever the fuck they told me to say,” He cheekily joked, earning an eye roll from you as he grinned.

“Alright…Let’s go!,” Eddie screamed energetically, throwing his guitar back around to be at his front, immediately beginning to play, the venue thumping with the bass of the speakers, the rest of the band jumping on immediately, the crowd going wild. You smiled, cheering along.

Eddie performed his heart out, per usual. He was dripping with sweat, bounding up and down the stage and hopping on speakers, his deep yet melodic voice ringing through the crowd. He quipped jokes between songs, earning laughs from the crowd. Your heart soared with his performance, seeing his personality shine so vibrantly.

But you felt the energy shift as he stopped to take a drink of water, your heart squeezed at Eddie’s sudden solemness as he approached the microphone. He sighed softly, looking up into your eyes. You felt his warm brown irises stare into you, your brows furrowed as you tried to read his expression. You tried to mouth to him to ask what was wrong, but he just shook his head softly, lips tugged up slightly in a smile Then he cleared his throat.

“So I’m gonna get sappy here for a minute,” He began, earning a joking boo from Steve, to which he pointed at him in the crowd and teased, “Shut up, Harrington. I know where you live.” The crowd giggled a bit, people anxiously awaiting Eddie’s speech.

“Anyways…This next song is a bit slower, a bit sweeter. And yeah, I know, that’s not the Corroded Coffin brand. But…,” He trailed off, meeting your eyes once again, sitting against a stool on the edge of the stage, his presence making the rest of the crowd fade away.

“Sometimes people come into your life who completely shake everything up. But in the best way. Before this year, I was feeling out of place, in a new town, and absolutely depressed. I was handling online bullies and being alone. I wanted nothing more than to fade away. And sure, I came out of it, but I was a changed person. I was guarded. I didn’t connect with strangers. I mean, fuck, Harrington knows. I stayed in my bubble,” Eddie joked, smiling. You felt your own cheeks tug up a bit as your heart raced.

Eddie’s voice got soft and raspy. “And then I met her. The most selfless person with the biggest heart…a fuckin’ worrywart if I’ve ever met one,” Eddie teased, his eyes glinting with mischief as he beamed at you, a laugh leaving your lips as your eyes watered.

“She came to me and I couldn’t help but…just…melt. She understood me, and was patient. She made me feel seen. She was the first person to make me feel like I didn’t have to prove myself. And she’s so blind to how amazing she is. How sweet she can be, how much I feel my heart beat for her. She’s made me want to open up. To be better. To be vulnerable and…myself,” He choked out, your heart squeezed and your tears spilling over as you smiled. Your heart floated up, your stomach fluttering at his words. You felt your legs itch to run up to him, to wrap yourself in him and never let go.

Eddie’s eyes were glossy as he looked up at you, his voice raspy as he grabbed for the acoustic guitar by him, his smile soft and face sincere.

“Bug…My girl…Baby…This is for you,” He rasped out, his voice sending more flutters to your stomach, your heart soaring. You felt your friend group staring at you, Steve in the background, whisper yelling at Robin ‘I fucking knew it!’.

You felt your heart soar as Eddie looked you in the eyes, the crowd quiet and instead listened to Eddie’s voice, his tone driving goosebumps up your skin. His words swirled around you, your heart squeezed by the lyrics, their implications.

You were his moon and stars, his breath of fresh air.

His heart was in your hands, his trust in you blind.

He wanted to wake up and sleep next to you, make you coffee.

He finally felt a reason for breathing.

You felt your tears overflow, your heart squeezed and your stomach full of fluttering, your smile growing as you smiled and cried, eyes focused on Eddie, who kept meeting your gaze, eyes glossed as he sang, his smile soft.

It was just you two.

And goddamn, you were lucky.

You waited anxiously with your friends outside the green room, bouncing on your toes. You wanted to tackle Eddie. Pummel him with kisses and never let him go.

His girl.

He called you his girl.

When he came out of the room, your friends all began to congratulate him and speak to him, but he just met your eyes. Immediately, Eddie walked over and grabbed you by the waist, pulling you into a bruising kiss. You melted into his arms, your heart soaring. You faintly heard Nancy usher away the friend group, Steve protesting loudly. When you finally pulled away, you looked into Eddie’s warm and twinkling eyes, your heart squeezed.

“Let’s get out of here, hm?,” Eddie whispered, his nose brushing yours, your heart racing as you nodded, mind foggy with Eddie Eddie Eddie.

You could hardly wait.

The moment you and Eddie entered his room, his mouth was on you, his touch anywhere he could reach. His kisses were passionate, his warm lips igniting a fire in you.

He seemed to be fueled by the same feverish desire as you, breaking his kisses to start nipping and kissing your neck. His groans against your skin seemed to just push the feelings off the deep end.

“Fuck…Y/N. You drive me crazy.”

You whimpered, head thrown back, nails clawing at his back, realizing somewhere in your lusty daze, you and Eddie had both removed your offensive clothing, at least on the upper half.

“Please, Eddie…”

He got to work on quickly removing the jeans covering your lower half and your underwear, pulling you to his bed, quickly setting his mouth on you as you laid down, his kisses trailing down, quick to lick and kiss your breasts, his lips leaving a blazing trail down to your center. He looked up at you, voice rasped.

“Let me know if you ever want to stop. Because if not, I plan on going all the way.”

A shiver passed through you at his words, the acknowledgement of how you were about to have your first time with Eddie inside you, the line crossed. You nodded weakly, feeling the desire between your legs grow as your heart skipped a beat.

Eddie looked up at you through his long lashes, continuing to leave soft kisses at your inner thighs before licking a long stripe up your center, his wet tongue making your toes curl. You felt his tongue circle your clit, occasionally sucking it into his mouth before letting it go with a pop and dipping his tongue into your center. He continued this pattern, the waves of pleasure making you begin to almost start dripping. You knew you were done for when he added his fingers, using his thumb to rub your clit while messily eating you out. You practically rose off the bed, moans echoing in his room as he finished before he rose up. Eddie wiped at his mouth, a smirk tugging up his lips as he shimmied out of his jeans and crawled over you, reaching into his bedside drawer, pulling out a condom.

“You want this?,” He asked, voice graveled and sending a soft shiver throughout you. You nodded, looking in his dark eyes, the makeup making him seem even more like a vision of lust, his eyes burning with desire.

“Yes.”

He tore the wrapper with his teeth, quick to put the condom on and hold himself over you with his arms braced on either side of your head. He fidgeted a bit with himself before looking into your eyes, his warm and full of concern, searching yours.

“Let me know if you ever want to stop,” He whispered softly.

You nodded in acknowledgement, slightly parting your legs more to make room for him, eyes staring into his, the warm brown simultaneously making you shiver and melt in his gaze. He lined himself up with your entrance, his head pressing against you as you fought a whimper. He slowly pushed in, fighting a growl, the vein on the side of his neck visible.

You felt a slight tug of pain that dulled when you stayed still for a moment, recognizing that Eddie was decently sized and you hadn’t had sex in a while. Not penetrative, anyways.

Eddie waited for you to claw at his back and whimper before he started rolling his hips, the rhythm steady and slow, yet still somehow making you see stars. You felt the pleasure deep in your bones as he kissed you, his lips mumbling his feelings for you. You felt yourself claw at his back and run fingers through his curls, making him groan softly.

Despite the waves of pleasure, you were so present in the moment. The bubble of seclusion you two had built. How his skin was so warm and felt right against you, and how his thrusts filled you in a way that made your heart overflow with feeling.

Eddie continued to kiss your neck, muttering praises. He shook with how he was feeling and what he was holding back. You knew slow and passionate wasn’t usually Eddie’s style. But by God, did you feel the pieces of your soul crack open and become enveloped in his warmth.

By the time you were cumming, your back was arched, your mouth back on his, your heart pounding, and body completely boneless. He continued to make you see stars as he worked you through your orgasm, making you finish twice.

He came with a groan, eyes rolling and head falling forward into your neck as he shook.

It was magic.

After that night, you two spoke in hushed whispers, agreeing that despite not being relationship people, you’d be fools to deny each other any longer.

You both had made the other fall to pieces multiple times that night, testing out the waters with new pet names.

Baby.

Darling.

My sun.

My moon.

Had it been any other couple, you and Eddie would’ve giggled over the ridiculousness.

But to the two of you…It felt right.

It became a highlight you often got lost in thought about during classes, blushing when you snapped out of it. It wasn’t helping either that for some reason, some of you classmates seemed a lot more hostile to you.

Two days after you and Eddie established your relationship, a leggy blonde shoulder checked you in your Psych 101 course, making you confused and angry.

And that wasn’t the end of it.

People were giving you glares, some downright rolling their eyes if you ever dared ask a question in class.

It built up when you were hanging around the desk with a fellow coworker, discussing a future program plan you had for next semester.

Your boss came up to you, her brows furrowed.

“Hey Y/N? Can I talk to you?”

You frowned a bit, giving an apologetic wave at your friend before walking with your supervisor to her office, sitting on the couch across from her desk, your stomach churning with anxiety.

Sure you’d been going out more and whatnot, but you were still there for your residents…weren’t you?

She sat at her desk, giving you a sympathetic look before sighing.

“You’re not in trouble, so don’t worry about that. Some stuff had been brought to my attention and I just wanted to make sure you’re okay,” She stated, looking at you intently.

You furrowed your brows, your stomach twisting in knots. “Yeah…I’m fine. What’s this about?”

She frowned, looking worried. “Well…I’ve been notified by some residents about some possible cyberbullying. Mostly an account directed towards you,” She clarified, her voice soft.

Your heart dropped. You weren’t huge on social media and honestly had been focused on exams and figuring out how to see Eddie during the holidays. You nodded, swallowing.

“Oh. Um, I haven’t seen anything but, I mean…Thank you for the heads up,” You tried to keep your voice even, your hands shaking.

She nodded and looked at you sincerely. “Just know if you ever want to talk about it or need help reporting, I’m here.”

You nodded, standing up and exiting the office in a daze.

What was happening?

You were sitting with some of your residents, studying with them, smiling and waving hi to some of them as they passed by the study area, them smiling back and waving.

You were midway through your notes, the common space still quiet and some of your residents studying beside you. One of your more outgoing residents, Aya, sat beside you. A group of her friends came in and handed you some candy, all your favorites. You smiled softly, your heart strings tugged. Aya was an outgoing resident who faced her first major breakup and came to you. You were quick to play dorm mom, letting her rant and cry and even getting her some ice cream from the campus market, letting her eat the pint while she complained. She had begun to view you as a mentor since then.

“Look, I wouldn’t usually say anything but you’re one of the best RA’s in this damn dorm and you are always sticking up for us as residents. Just be careful with some snakes around here,” She whispered, her friends nodding behind her, looking like they were ready to jump to your defense. You felt your heart squeeze while your stomach twisted.

Clearly this account was subtweeting you or something. Nevertheless, having some of your sweet kiddos on your side made you feel a sense of relief.

“Thanks, you guys. Now, go study. Don’t worry about me, I got this,” You whispered back, ignoring your other residents looking over at you curiously. You skin crawled with the thought that someone could be out there spreading lies or even bullying you without your awareness.

Aya nodded before suddenly hugging you, whispering. “We’re here if you need someone to kick ass.” You laughed a bit at the statement, shaking your head as she pulled away.

The group waved bye before retreating to Aya’s dorm, stealing glances over to you, clearly worried over your wellness.

You pushed down the growing discomfort you felt, trying to remember that you needed to focus on finals.

On a late night while taking a break from studying, you finally caved, deciding to try and find out what the account was. It took no more than a few seconds before you found it, your stomach bubbling with anger, fear, and sorrow.

There was both a Twitter and Instagram chock full of photos taken off of your own accounts or random candid pictures of you. The messages scribbled across the images and posted on twitter all reflected the same idea.

Skank. Whore. Munson’s groupie.

How does he like her? She’s so plain.

Can’t believe she works for the uni…thought she was his full time whore?

You felt your heart stop as you tried to gasp for air, eyes watering. The account had hundreds of likes and followers, which wasn’t insane but…made you want to crawl out of your skin.

You felt your eyes water as your thoughts swirled.

Robin and Eddie were both rarely on social media, the two of them even worse at paying attention to media trends than you.

And Steve had an Instagram but it was private.

So it made sense why you’d only become aware of it now.

And fuck, if the comments didn’t get worse.

Wow…she’s desperate huh? Lol

Can’t believe Eddie ditched the chance with Chrissy for this slut

I bet she is crazy, that’s why he’s tied down now

You felt your chest begin to heave as your body was wracked by sobs. You felt like small daggers were being hurled under your skin, making your skin crawl and heart ache.

Why you?

They were asking the questions you wondered yourself, knowing you were dating a boy who shone like a star, a boy destined for greatness. And you were just…you.

And god, did that hurt.

Taglist: @josephquinnsfreckles @corrodedcoffincumslut @kirisuteg0men @bebe07011 @amira0303 @vintagehellfire @lottie-90 @animechick555

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blueraineshadows · 1 year

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A Mini Quidditch Surprise

Garreth Weasley x F!MC ❤️🌶

Spoiler/Trigger alert: This fic will have a pregnancy announcement

This fic is inspired by a Request from @simpy-slytherin 💜

The soft sounds of MC's moans drifted across the bedroom, the blankets were tangled, her hair was rumpled, and her fingers were buried deep into her husband's soft locks. His mouth pressed hot kisses across her skin, his tongue swirling softly, her hips flexing with the need to feel him inside her.

This was the best way to start the day.

Her breasts tingled, they felt heavy, aching, and she guided his head towards them. The shock of desire that speared her when his teeth grazed a nipple made her arch upwards. A cry left her lips. "Oh...Garreth," she moaned.

Encouraged by her reaction he gave her more attention and she was stunned at how sensitive she was, writhing and panting eagerly. His hand came up to cup the other breast, giving it a gentle squeeze and her eyes flew open. It was so sensitive it was almost pain.

"Fuck me," she begged. "Now!"

He glanced up at her, a little surprised at the vehement tone of her voice. "Wow, someone is horny this morning," he laughed.

She grabbed him, panting. "You have no idea!"

Happy to oblige, he did exactly as she bid. Every fibre of her was a blistering inferno, and she clung to him, urging him to go harder, faster, until his breaths were gasping through his lips.

Her release was swift, and he held her as she came undone around him, sweat beading both of their brows. She was trembling. He stared at her. "Are you alright?"

She nodded, a little stunned. "Yes, yes, I'm alright."

Garreth was washing up for work and MC was making some tea, early morning sunlight warming their kitchen. She swallowed and frowned, her stomach swirling. She slapped a hand to her mouth and ran, barely making it before she emptied herself. Garreth was standing there in a towel, toothbrush in hand, gaping.

"Merlin's beard," he said. He put a hand on her back, easing her gently to sit on the floor beside the bath tub. He grimaced, eyes creased with concern. "You're as pale as a ghost. Do you want me to fetch a nurse?"

She shook her head. "I will be alright," she insisted. She attempted a little smile, her stomach still sour and churning. "I'll be fine after a cup of tea."

Garreth was fussing over her, feeling helpless but wanting to be useful as she went about making that tea. She couldn't face any breakfast, and Garreth forced his own down his throat, his eyes constantly watching her. He didn't want to leave her, but she kissed his cheek and pressed some sandwiches wrapped in brown paper into his hand, sending him off on his way to work.

Once he was gone, MC took a deep breath and got ready to leave the house. They needed some shopping and a walk through the village might make her feel better.

The air was warm, spring would be melting into summer soon, and MC took some deep breaths. She thought the earth smelled stronger today, and as she passed the market stands, the scents and fragrances were an assault on her nose.

She paused at the fruit and veg stand, a hand on her stomach, that swirling sourness washing over her again. Then it passed and she took a shaky breath. The woman behind the stall looked at her, a little frown on her brow. "Are you alright, Mrs Weasley?"

"Yes, quite fine, thank you," MC replied. "Just a little off colour this morning."

The lady nodded, thinking for a moment. She reached forward to a little basket. "Here, take some of this," she said, holding out a chunk of ginger to MC. "Chew on it, or grind it up and pop it in your tea. Baking it into biscuits works as well. It did wonders for me when I was carrying my own youngsters."

MC stilled, her eyes on the ginger, and then swinging wildly up to the stall holder. She gaped and immediately shook her head. "Oh, no, there's no need..."

She trailed off, her mind whirring madly. They had been married about five months, five wonderful months of barely being able to leave their bed, wrapped up in each other's arms. A flush crept into her cheeks. She tried to remember her last bleed and couldn't believe she hadn't noticed the missed months.

The stall holder smiled knowingly and held the ginger out. "Take it, no charge," she said warmly. "Congratulations, my dear. The first baby is a wonderful experience, and I'm sure your husband is going to be delighted."

....*....

MC took a day to collect her thoughts, her gaze drifting far off into the distance, her hand unconsciously placed over her abdomen. A baby. A tiny Weasley. Her eyes stung at the gift he had placed within her.

The sickness had faded as the day wore on, but returned again in the evening. Garreth was pacing, insisting on calling for the nurse. MC kept assuring him she was fine, tempted to put him out of his misery. But she held the words back. She wanted to make it special for him, not in the middle of holding her hair back while she threw up.

While he was at work the next day, MC took the Floo network to visit the nurse. After a full check up, she was declared as fit, well, and most definitely pregnant, around 8 weeks.

On her way home, MC passed a shop window display that caught her eye, she paused to look closer and smiled. She had an idea on how to tell Garreth the news.

MC was sitting on the rug by the fire when Garreth came home, her heart fluttering, hands a little sweaty. While he came from a large family, they hadn't really discussed children yet. They had been so caught up in their own little bubble of wedded bliss it just hadn't happened.

"How are you feeling?" He asked. He quickly shrugged off his coat and came to her, dropping to his knees taking her hand in his. He kissed her forehead. "I missed you today."

"I went into town," she said. She gave his hand a squeeze. "I...I have a gift for you."

A confused smile lifted his lips. "For me? Whatever for? It's not my birthday."

"Because I love you," she shrugged. Her heart was pounding. "Does there have to be another reason?"

His cheeks blushed pink. "I suppose not. Although, I have nothing to gift you in return, and I love you just as much, actually I reckon I might love you more. Everyone always said I was duelling above my weight with you. I'm a lucky devil."

She laughed, moving up onto her knees to kiss his lips. "I'm the lucky one," she said, softly. "And anyway, you have already given me the most precious thing a wife could wish for."

He tilted his head a little, his eyes searching hers curiously. She squeezed his hand again before letting go and retrieving a little burgundy box from under the chair. She held it out to him, her teeth worrying at her bottom lip.

He eyed the box, he looked a little nervous, but curious all the same. "Nothing is going to jump out and explode or anything, is it?"

She rolled her eyes. "Isn't that more your style?"

"Good point," he said grinning. He took the box and lifted the lid. He saw the tissue paper with the logos for his favourite Quidditch team printed all over it. He raised an eyebrow. "You bought me Quidditch merchandise? I thought you said I already owned too much!"

She sighed and gave him a nudge. "Just open it already, for goodness sake!"

"Alright, alright," he laughed. She clasped her hands together tightly as he pulled back the tissue paper. His hands stilled, and his eyes flew to hers. A strange sound left his throat.

MC held her breath. He picked up the little baby sleepsuit folded neatly inside and held it up, the outfit unfolding to reveal the Quidditch team logo on the front, the soft cotton in the team colours.

His fingers shook and his throat was working hard as he attempted to swallow. He opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out.

MC could feel her lungs screaming for air, the moment hanging tense, as he just stared at the little sleepsuit. And then she gasped, air rushing into her lungs as he crushed the little suit to his face, leant forwards and something like a muffled sob reached her ears.

"Garreth?" She croaked. She put a hesitant hand on his head. "Garreth...speak to me, oh gods...are you...are you upset?"

Her heart squeezed. He shook his head, sucking in a breath, and then he was upright and reaching for her, pulling her against him. "Oof," she grunted. He held her so tightly, his face buried in her hair. "I love you so fucking much," he groaned.

A huff of relieved laughter burst from her lips. Then he was kissing her face, his lips everywhere, his hands cupping her head. He pulled back, the hugest grin on his face. He held up the sleepsuit again and laughed, hugging it to chest. "Are you really up the duff? Like, for real?"

She put a hand to her forehead, shaking her head, laughter bubbling up her throat. "Oh, Garreth, yes. We are having a baby."

He looked down at the sleepsuit. "This is perfect, I can't wait to show everyone. Mum is going to be so thrilled!"

"So, you're happy?" She asked.

He gazed at her, eyes wide. "Are you kidding? This is brilliant! I'm going to be a dad!"

His face dropped in sudden shock. "Fuck, I'm going to be a dad." He frowned a little. "What if I fuck this up? I'm a walking disaster most of the time, I'm going to be awful at this!"

She reached for him, grabbing his shoulders. "Don't you ever say that again," she said. "I love you Garreth Weasley, even when you drive me nuts with your wild ideas, and your baby will love you too. You will be a fantastic father!"

He looked uncertain, almost shy. She took his hand and placed it on her tummy. "I'm scared too, but we can figure it out together, right?"

His eyes softened and he looked down as he gave her tummy a little rub. Then he grinned and bent to press a kiss there. "Hello, my little Weasley bean," he said to her tummy. "I'm your daddy, and I'm going to teach you everything I know. We are going to have so much fun."

MC wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry at that thought, either way, her heart was feeling rather full in that moment. She had never felt so grateful for what she had.

#hogwarts legacy fanfic #mc x garreth weasley #garreth weasley #blueraineshadows

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sunnyanddumb98 · 4 months

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My dog is called Lemon Pie; we always call her Pie. I never expected her to become Cherry.

Pie was a high school graduation gift. My parents went to the farmer's market for a flower bouquet and a corsage, and returned with no food for the week and a tiny little pie.

She looked like a Maltese, but back then, she resembled an old rag doll and was the size of a cup of tea, fully covered with my favorite hobby. After speeches and hugs, after pictures, I sat to kill fifty fleas passing by.

Years went by; I started college, finished it, moved out, moved in, got jobs, and quit them all. One day, in my hometown, my sister Isidora and her own dog, Haru, who was a war general in another life, now a fully five-pound Cotton de Tulear with a temper and a grandeur complex, went for a walk.

was a phone call from an unknown number, screams telling my dad to pick her up, a cherry jam trail, Isidora sitting in the dark of a clothing store garage, Haru shaking in the car, the speed limit passing by.

She was in my arms in the ride, and right there, she looked up to me, and I almost laughed. The dog tore the skin off, peeling her like an orange but didn't cut meat or bone. She was happy, and I thought she didn't have meringue anymore.

I had never seen a more pampered patient. She was in surgery for five hours. I remember feeling guilt over my lack of fear or disgust, but she looked the whole time like she was having fun, being the centre of attention and all. The nurses told us she didn't sleep in the cage; she slept on everyone's arms the whole day. Cherry pie underneath the white coat.

February Prompt 17. Cherry pie @the-end-society

#thoughts #am writing #writing things #new writers on tumblr #creative writing #journal #letters #spilled feelings #short story writing #original short story #short stories #short story #story ideas #short stories online #stories #story writing #original story

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scotianostra · 1 year

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On May 10th 1850 Thomas Lipton, founder of the Lipton's grocery chain was born in Glasgow.

Before the big supermarkets took over we lhad ots of wee ones, every street had a Liptons, or a Galbraith even a Templetons!

Liptons was one of the originals started by a guy from Glasgow who built an empire and the tea brand still bares his name.

Born in a tenement flat in Crown Street, the Gorbals, Liptons parents were Irish and had left the Emerald Isle during the potato famine, the smallholding their family had farmed on for generations no longer viable they settled in Glasgow. 'Tommy' Lipton was educated at St. Andrew's Parish School close to Glasgow Green and by the time Tommy was 12 his parents had a shop in the street they lived selling ham, butter, and eggs. It was with the aim of supplementing his parents' limited income that Thomas Lipton left school at the age of thirteen and found employment as a printer's errand boy, and later as a shirtcutter. He also enrolled at a night school, the Gorbals Youth's School, during this period. He then found work as a cabin boy a steamer running between Glasgow and Belfast and was captivated by life aboard the ship and the stories told by sailors who had traveled to the US After being let go by the steamer company, Lipton quickly used the wages he had saved to purchase passage on a ship bound for the U.S., where he would spend five years working and traveling all over the country.

Back in Scotland on his 21st birthday, In 1871 Lipton opened his firstown shop at 101 Stobcross Street in Glasgow. In the heart of industrial Glasgow, full of smoke and fog, the shop was said to be so brightly lit that at night it became a beacon in the street. Goods were stacked in the American fashion, not for the convenience of the proprietors, but with the purpose of catching the customers’ attention. Lipton used another selling technique learned from his time in the States and from his Mother's shop.

When his parents had opened their small shop, Mrs. Lipton, rather than deal with middlemen at the markets, dealt directly with the farmers of her homeland. Lipton followed this example. He bought his bacon, eggs, butter and other produce directly from Irish farmers. The firm traded as a supermarket until 1982 when another group bought the shops that were to become Presto’s, the decision was made as they wanted to solely concentrate on the Tea business which it does to this day, in 2009 Lipton received a Corporate Green Globe Award for its work with the Rainforest Alliance.

As well as the tea and the shops but Lipton was also a keen sailor, he holds a place in the America’s Cup heart as being the most reliably consistent and deftly congenial loser. Five times he challenged for the Cup, five times being defeated. Despite his best laid plans and momentous effort to win the cup, the tea magnate simply didn’t cut the mustard. Nonetheless, he did have a penchant for beautiful boats. His last challenger, Shamrock V, never really stood a chance of winning the race but it did win marks for pure beauty. His well-publicised efforts to win the cup, which earned him a specially designed cup for “the best of all losers”, and also made his tea famous in the United States.

During the first world war Thomas Lipton helped organisations of medical volunteers. He placed his yachts at the disposal of the Red Cross, the Scottish Women's Hospitals Committee of Dr. Elsie Inglis, the Serbian Supporting Fund, etc., for the transport of medical volunteers (doctors and nurses) and medical supplies. Not content with just allowing his boats to be used he also took a keen interest in the work of Elsie Inglis and the womans hospital, visiting Serbia, where he insisted on humble lodgings and was renowned for his humility and modesty. .In addition to visiting many hospitals, where he encouraged doctors, nurses and soldiers, he found time to attend traditional fairs and to take a part in blackberry gathering and fishing. Sir Thomas Lipton was proclaimed an honorary citizen of the city of Niš.

Lipton even made the cover of Time magazine during 1924. He was knighted in 1901. Sir Thomas Lipton passed away on 2nd October 1931 in London and is buried alongside his parents and siblings in Glasgow's Southern Necropolis, his grave, like the man himself, a humble, simple understated affair, he bequeathed the majority of his fortune to his native city of Glasgow, including his yachting trophies, which are now on display at the Kelvingrove Gallery.

#scotland #scottish #grocer #tea merchant #sailor #philanthropist #glaswegian #history

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keiskake · 1 year

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So based on Pokemon, can you write a oneshot featuring Kukui with an older male reader along with hypnosis and public nudity please? In the fic, the reader hypnotizes Kukui into wanting to automatically strip naked and jerk off whenever he hears or sees a trigger. So the next day, while doing errands, Kukui has to try to control himself as he comes across the triggers. What do you think?

sub kukui x dom m!reader

(m!masturbation, video recording, public nudity, hypnosis // nsfw MDNI)

he had riled you up the night before, leaving you mid-session to go help his students at the pokemon school. he left you to finish what he started. every action has consequences, and you wanted him to feel needy. to feel itching for more.

the downstairs of the house had an assortment of potions, but there was one that you kept especially hidden in a locked drawer. you had fantasies of this day but were unsure if kukui would be on board with the idea. this time he didn't get a say in the matter.

it was a hypnosis potion, one that nurse joy had given you as a tester for a pokemon who wouldn't eat. it never got put to use for its intended purposes but who said it was strictly for pokemon anyways? a few drops in his morning coffee would do perfectly.

"kukui! your coffee is ready, come and get it." you shout down the stairs to alert your lover, stirring the mixture of caffeine and hypnosis potion.

footsteps slowly make their way to you, his hands tucked into his white coat. kukui doesn't face you but tries to avert his eyes and hide them under his hat, "thanks babe.."

"hmm? what's the matter?" you put the cup in front of him and tilted to the side in an attempt to look at him properly.

"y'know━ last night and everything." he takes his hand out to reach for the cup, looking up at you with a slightly embarrassed face. you were gonna make him into a complete embarrassed mess by the end of the day, that was for sure.

you grinned slightly, lifting up his hat before placing a tender kiss on his forehead. he finally looks at you with warm and loving eyes as he makes his way to the couch, taking a seat beside you. kukui takes a sip of his drink, his other hand reaching for the morning paper laid on the coffee table. but by the time the tips of his fingers could reach the paper he quickly put his cup down and withdrew his hand.

a nervous sweat dripped across his forehead, the sound of his pounding heart echoed in his mind and his eyes gazed at you for aid. "what's going on..? why does my body feel fuzzy?"

"it's okay sweetheart, it's all okay. i just want you to feel the aching urge to strip and pleasure yourself, but of course not actually do it."

and after that moment he was under your very spell. kukui leaned his head over your shoulder, panting like a dog in heat. his voice was sweet and gentle, whining and moaning in your ear desperately. he gripped the sides of your arms as his lower area grinded against your already hard cock. that's right, want what you can't have.

a hand pats his back a couple of times, soothing his sudden arousal. "come on, let's go run some errands. be a good boy and don't touch yourself no matter how painful it is."

kukui holds onto your arm tightly as you pull yourself up. he struggles to make it to the front door as the hypnosis potion goes into full effect. the walk to the local market is just as unstable, kukui's mind foggy and his body itching to take every piece of clothing off and pleasure himself. but he knows that your words are absolute.

the two of you stop at a stall, it had fruits and vegetables of all sorts stacked in wooden crates. you chit-chat with the seller, kukui standing in front of you facing downwards at his feet. his fingers fiddle around as he tries to distract himself from his arousal, but you slip your arm around his waist. your hand is a few inches above his cock. the thoughts of your big, rugged hand messing around with his length turns him into a big blushing mess.

the shopkeeper speaks up, taking notice of how fidgety your partner is, "are you okay kukui?"

"go on, answer her." you coo quietly in his ear. it sent a shiver down his spine. the way your lips were so close to his ear reminded him of the night before. the way you would whisper sweet nothings in his ear as your hand trailed down his stomach and to his pants.

"i'm- i'm fine ma'am, just a bit warm." he's only able to crack a small smile at her before he quickly tries to cover his pink face.

"i must say, your watermelons are doing well this summer. they're really hard and solid." your tone is playful and sly, you chose that exact wording to get him all antsy. kukui jolted backwards, his feet falling in between yours and his ass right up against your cock. "maybe we'll come by later to get one, have a nice day ma'am."

"h-have a nice- a nice day.." his words are mumbled through his trembling lips as he follows you into an ally. it's too much for him. he can't hold off any longer, his hands unsteadily fumbling to slip off his coat.

but there was no time. you pushed his back against a brick wall, the two of you boxed in a narrow alleyway. it was dark and small, normally people wouldn't take much notice to it, and they probably wouldn't even realise if people were hiding there. though if someone was making a lot of noise, maybe they would finally take a look.

"pushing yourself against my cock and trying to strip? someone's not exactly being a good boy, are they? strip kukui." his body was weak, the only thing keeping him upright was the wall behind him. kukui's eyed widened as those words made its way into his brain. 'strip'. it was like a drug that he couldn't resist or ignore, pulling his coat off and his pants down with zero hesitation. his cock sprung out of his boxers, the tip red and plump with precum dripping on the floor. the veins were even visible despite how dark it was.

"now play with yourself, stroke yourself until you cum for me okay?" you give him a small peck on his lips before pulling out your phone to record the mess that kukui was.

"but someone could catch us-"

"i didn't stutter kukui. put on a little show for me and the camera, won't you?"

a bright blush grew on his face as small whimpers slip out of his lips. kukui, reluctantly, shook his head despite the sheer embarrassment he was feeling. he took his left hand and started working on his red, plump tip, rubbing the leaking head. a free hand covered his mouth, trying to hide how much he was enjoying the fear yet the thrill that someone could walk by and see his pathetic, needy self. he wanted to deny that he loved the way you pointed the camera at his bulge, recording him for your own personal use later.

you took a stride towards him, pushing his hand away from his mouth, "aw, why are you covering your mouth sweetheart? let daddy hear those pathetic moans of yours." kukui struggled to nod at your request, his hand working up and down his length with his pre-cum as his lube. the wet squealching sound rippled against the walls, and soon after his moans became a serenading melody to your ears. "too, too much.." he mewls, his pace slowing down as his legs becoming too weak to keep him upright.

"oh baby, it's too much? you can cum for me and the camera, right? c'mon, show me the load that's been building up." Your command rings in his head, the hypnosis potion taking its final stretch and pushing kukui over the edge. His hand runs itself from the base and rubs it around his sloppy tip. His lips can no longer hold his whimpers and cries back. "look at that aching cock, begging to cum. Just keep going, that's a good boy." he does as he's told, his body out of his control. a slip of the tongue, his groan a tad bit louder than before. the sound of footsteps at the entrance of the alleyway makes kukui jump. his dripping cock out in the open for anyone to see, a free for all. "don't be shy now, you're almost there handsome."

intoxicating.

it wasn't because of the potion anymore. he wanted nothing more than to please you, to make your every command a reality. kukui forgot about the footsteps and the person at the alleyway entrance, pumping his cock in his fist full-power. the smirk on your face grew as your show finally came to a white end, the tip shooting out his thick and hot load on the concrete ground. he was left panting, a dirty mess, back slumped against the wall and thighs trembling. you pressed your tongue against his tip, swiping against it to get a mouthful of his hot, thick cum.

"didn't know my good boy tasted so good. and don't worry, i won't be sharing this video with anyone but you."

#professor kukui #pokemon kukui #pokemon x reader #professor kukui x reader #pokemon smut

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archiveofkloss · 4 months

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karlie kloss recently shared some of her parenting and everyday must-haves with cnn underscored!

1. Lanolips, “The Original 101 Ointment Multipurpose Superbalm” - $16.95

"I use this balm every single day," Kloss says. "It keeps my lips and skin hydrated 24/7." Made 100% naturally with ultra-pure grade Australian lanolin, the 101 Ointment is aptly named: it serves 101 functions. This balm is excellent for anything dry or chapped including lips, skin patches, cuticles, elbows, and more. It is also safe to use during pregnancy, for nursing mothers, and with babies

2. Owala, “Kids’ Freesip” - $22.99

"Levi adores his colorful sippy cup, and it never, ever leaks," Kloss says. Made from triple-layered, vacuum-insulated stainless steel, the FreeSip is not only tough but also keeps drinks cold for up to 24 hours.

3. Coterie, “The Wipe: 4 Pack” - $30.00

"As a professional model, l've spent many hours on a makeup chair, so i've been through my fair share of makeup and baby wipes," Kloss says. "These ones from Coterie are my favorite! They're great for diaper changes, sticky hands and faces or any other daily messes. I even use them on myself, and I will be carrying them in my bag long after I have a child in diapers!" Up to 30% larger than most wipes, Coterie’s are chemical-free and made with purified water, skincare ingredients such as vitamin E and glycerin, and plant-based, plastic-free, biodegradable fibers.

4. Estée Lauder, “Turbo Lash High Powered Volume + Length Mascara” - $34.00

Kloss, who is an Estée Lauder global brand ambassador, says, "When I'm not working, I prefer to go for a more natural look, and this mascara is one of my staples for my daily routine. It gives my lashes that perfect lift for an easy, effortless look."

5. Doona, “Doona + Car Seat & Stroller” - $550

"I love this stroller because it's very new-parent-friendly and easy to fold, which really comes in handy when you're strapped for time and on the move," Kloss says. As the first fully integrated travel system, Doona’s car seat allows for travel with ease for parents on-the-go as it can transform into a stroller within seconds. Available in seven colors, the Doona includes a five-point harness, an adjustable handlebar, and removable and washable textiles.

6. Oura, “Heritage Ring in Gold” - $449

"I swear by the Oura Ring," Kloss says. "It helps track my sleep every day, giving me all the data I need to help improve my sleep quality so that I feel my very best the next morning." The Oura can track everything from sleep and fitness to stress and general health, all available to track and monitor on the brand’s app.

7. Nanit, “Nanit Pro Camera with Floor Stand” - $399.00

"I'm such a tech nerd, and this smart baby monitor is one of the best on the market," Kloss says. "It comes with its own app, so you can take a peek whenever, and it really does help take some of that stress away." Delivering 1080p HD video, the Nanit comes with built-in sound and motion alerts and has a split-screen feature that allows users to view and control two cameras at once.

you can read the article here

#karlie kloss #interview #essentials #coterie

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cricutmaker3 · 5 months

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How to Make a Personalized Cricut Water Bottle: Top 3 Ideas

The Cricut water bottle is more than just an accessory for hydration, as it’s a great way to show off your creativity and personal style. If you are interested in learning how to make a water bottle with the Cricut machine, I have prepared this blog post just for you. In this blog, I will first share with you 3 unique water bottle projects that are very popular and expensive in the market, which I made myself with some supplies and a Cricut machine.

Next, I will show you step-by-step how you can make such bottles in only a short time. Once you learn it, you will be able to make many things like bottles, glasses, and cups. Now, I can’t wait to start this guide.

3 Most Popular Cricut Water Bottle Ideas

The following are the trending water bottle ideas that you should try to show your creative side. Bottles are very easy to style and don’t take much time. If you are a person who loves exploring new ideas, you are going to love these three ideas.

Berg Water Bottle

Whether you’re a working professional or in college, you can make this project with your Cricut. This is a water bottle from a very popular brand, Berg, which you can prepare yourself at your home. I made this because I had to give it to my clients at the crafting office. To make this, buy a plain water bottle, cut out several permanent vinyl berg designs with a Cricut, and attach.

Cricut Water Bottle With Vinyl

My daughter wants to serve the country as a professional nurse, and I keep giving her small gifts to keep her motivated. She loves to personalize things, so I gifted her a personalized water bottle. To make this, I need a Cricut machine and vinyl. You can also make this by simply cutting your design on vinyl.

Sports Water Bottle

If you are also a sports lover, like to go to the gym and also do workouts. It is your responsibility to keep yourself hydrated, and for this, you need a water bottle that will excite you. This Cricut allows you to personalize a plain water bottle according to you.

To make this first, go to the Design Space, create a stencil design, choose the correct material setting, and cut it out.

How to Make a Water Bottle With Your Cricut Machine?

After sharing my top Cricut bottle ideas with you, I’ll now walk you through the complete step-by-step process of how to make a custom Cricut water bottle.

Step 1: Collect All the Tools and Supplies

The first thing you have to do is gather all the essential materials you will require for your project.

A Step by step instruction

Cricut cutting machine

Permanent adhesive vinyl

Transfer tape

Cutting mat

Scraper tool

Blank water bottles

A computer with Design Space installed

Downloaded SVG file

Step 2: Upload Your SVG File on the Design Space

First, we connected our Cricut machine to our computer and opened the Design Space.

Now, click on the New Project on this software.

After this, press the Upload icon on the left-hand corner of your screen.

Then, browse and find the SVG file from your computer system.

Next, import the file, write a name and tag for it, and select Upload.

Here, I am making more than 3 Cricut water bottle designs, so I have selected multiple designs.

Now, measure your bottle and resize your design accordingly using the edit tool.

Step 3: Choose the Appropriate Material Settings

The design we will make on the bottle must be curved; for this, click on the design and use the curve tool. Once everything is prepared according to plan, click on the Make It option.

Now, you will be on a new page, mirror the design here, and click on Continue.

Subsequently, set the material as permanent vinyl and maintain the default pressure setting.

Step 4: Cut the Design

Now leave your computer as it is, take your permanent vinyl, and lay it on the Cricut mat with the shiny side down. And after that use the roller to fit it correctly.

Moreover, press the Load button on the machine and load the mat. Then go back to your computer and click on the Continue option. After this, the Go button of your machine will start flashing; click on it.

Step 5: Weed Out Your Design & Prepare a Bottle

Once the design is cut, click the unload button on the machine, unload the sheet, and remove the sheet from the mat. Now, use the weeding tool to remove negative parts from the design.

Finally, clean your bottle and dry it using your towel.

Step 6: Apply the Design to Your Bottle

Furthermore, cover the vinyl design with a small piece of transfer tape and peel away the backing paper.

Finally, apply the vinyl to the water bottle using a scraper tool. This will look straight on our curved water bottle. After this, use the scraper and run it on the bottle.

Final Words

Personalized bottles can be used as gifts for family and friends or for corporate, graduation programs, and other special events. And the bottle of your choice will not be available in the market, even if it is available, the price will be very high. And that’s the problem the Cricut water bottle solves. You can make it as per your requirement with Cricut; it can be either permanent or temporary.

For more information visit: cricut.com/setup cricut.com/register cricut easy press 3 setup how to set up cricut easypress 3

#Cricut water bottle #Cricut water bottle ideas #Cricut.com/setup #Cricut design space download #Cricut design space login #www.cricut.com/setup login #cricut easypress 3 app #cricut.com/register

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theoldhempfarmer · 5 months

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THCa flower, the stakes are high and the chances are slim…

Dateline 1-3-24

It’s cold outside here in Middle Tennessee, so The Old Hemp Farmer is nursing a wonderful hot cup of organic Indonesian coffee and noshing some Costa Rican Cacao fortified with Tennessee homegrown Cannabis extract. Which is just one of the many Tennessee homegrown Recreational Cannabis edibles that’ll remain legal after July 1st of this year, which is a good thing because we will probably lose three different revenue streams - D8 Vape cartridges, THCa Pre-rolls and D8/D9 Tinctures unless…

So this morning’s blurb is about how possibly the high THCa Industry can be salvaged here in Tennessee. There are two scenarios that can possible save the Cannabis “cash cow” that is known as THCa. The first scenario that could save your THCa favorite product could start January 9th when the 2024 Tennessee legislative session commences. During this upcoming legislative session the House and Senate could simple rewrite HB0304 to state that all testing would be for Delta 9 THC only and this would apply to Cannabis grown by licensed Tennessee farmers. Lee Crabtree and I have been compliantly growing Cannabis in the state for going on eight years and presently we have to watch the majority of THCa flower being sold in Tennessee being Black Market grown other states. There is only one way to battle Black Market Cannabis and that is to have a Vertical (grown, processed, packaged and inspected in state) Cannabis program that provides relatively inexpensive high THCa flower that can be accessed easily. Which is an easily understood concept but I strongly doubt the Republican Super majority that control the Tennessee House and Senate are going to be comfortable with basically sensible Cannabis laws. So The Old Hemp Farmer doesn’t see HB0403 rewritten to save high THCa Flower because the majority of folks in the Tennessee Statehouse still harbor animosity against marijuana, which is basically what high THCa Flower actually is, so that ship probably won’t sail.

The other way that could possibly salvage the high THCa flower Industry in Tennessee is the ongoing campaign of petitioning the Tennessee Department of Agriculture with letters, phone calls and texts to amend the methodology (testing for Delta 9 THC from post decarboxylation to pre decarboxylation) of testing Cannabis products. (Doesn’t seem like much but the difference is everything to wholesalers and retailers.) With the Culmination of this “Save The THCA flower” campaign being hopefully a mass of Cannabis folks attending the town hall meeting where Public comment is scheduled for Feb. 6, 2024, at 10 a.m. at the Tennessee Department of Agriculture’s Porter Building Atrium. So let us say a gang of folks actually do contact their legislators and the TDA to plead for high THCa flower and products, will this approach work? Maybe, maybe not. I’m not sure if people realize that the Tennessee Department of Agriculture was founded in 1854 and is the oldest state agency in Tennessee. This Cabinet-level agency is one of the largest and most firmly entrenched bureaucracies in Tennessee executive branch and supposedly only answers to the Governor. Which means the TDA can’t be voted out of office so they know their jobs are safe. Assured longevity has its rewards. Also know that the forthcoming lack of the public’s access to high THCa flower and the loss of revenue at Cannabis companies isn’t a crisis at the Tennessee Department of Agriculture. But be assured that the TDA will listen attentively but in the end these civil servants will do what they think is best for their agency and their pensions. Anyway as always, Hemp Dawgs and Hemp Puppies keep one eye on the weather and the other eye on the market.

Visit our Tennessee homegrown web site to try our great products: https://www.tnhomegrown.com

The Wife's web site: https://www.theoldhempfarmerswife.com

Our Podcast - Full Contact Cannabis: https://fullcontactcannabis.podbean.com

#theoldhempfarmer #cannabinoids #cannabisbusiness #tennesseehomegrown #theoldhempfarmerswife #cannabis #cannabisindustry #d8 #cannabis culture #cannabis dispensary

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femdomliterature · 7 months

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FemLit 0415 - How to Lactate

HOW TO INDUCE LACTATION ( INFO )

I have done this myself and many women world wide for some reason or another have also induced lactation. Its a fairly simple process that just takes time.

Inducing Lactation

The technique for inducing lactation without being pregnant is exceptionally simple: physically stimulate the nipple and areola, and the body will respond by making milk! Forget about milk inducing drugs and exotic techniques: all it takes is stimulation!

The best and most reliable way to induce lactation is to dry breast feed your nursing partner for 20 minutes, eight times each day. Don’t let your partner suck just on the nipple; make sure he or she is latched on in the same manner as a nursing infant would latch onto it’s mother’s breast. In the beginning, even without milk, relax and breast feed your partner, just as you would as if you breasts were full of milk. In time, your body will respond to the suckling by producing milk.

If your schedule won’t permit eight nursing sessions each day; reduce the number of sessions to what you can comfortably handle. Women have successfully induced lactation with as little as two breast feeding sessions each day; however, the sessions do need to be at least 20 minutes long. Keeping in mind: the closer to eight nursing sessions each day you are able to have, the better the results will be.

If you do not have a willing or reliable nursing partner, you may substitute suckling with hand massage of the breast, and finger stimulation of the nipple and areola. You may use a breast pump if you wish; however, hand expression will work just as well. Eight, 20 minute stimulation sessions each day is still optimum for inducing lactation, even without a reliable nursing partner. If your schedule will not permit eight sessions each day, you may reduce the number of sessions to what you can comfortably handle. But again, the closer to eight nursing sessions each day you are able to have, the better the results will be.

DO NOT OVER COMPLICATE THE TECHNIQUE! Quite simply put: your body will respond to the need for milk by producing milk! It is a mistake to overcomplicate your method of inducing lactation. Keep it simple!

If you are breast feeding your nursing partner to induce lactation, his or her mouth should provide enough lubrication to prevent chaffing of the nipple and areola. If you are inducing lactation by using hand and finger stimulation, you may need to use a lubricant to prevent chaffing. There are several products on the market specifically for lubricating and protecting the nipples and areolas of women who are breast feeding. A warm shower is a good time to stimulate; the water will help lubricate and the warmth will help relax your breasts.

In the beginning, expect your breasts to swell and become sore. To lactate, the lymph system in your breasts have to undergo certain changes; the result is temporary soreness. You may notice soreness particularly around the outer edges of the breasts, near your armpits. Even though the soreness is temporary, the increase in cup size will likely remain as long as you are lactating.

If you have never been pregnant, and never had milk, the process may take a little longer. Even though mammary glands mature during puberty, the glands have to undergo minor changes before they will actually produce milk: this will add time to the process of inducing. Once mammary glands have produced milk for the first time, they never go back to the way they were. Mammary glands of a woman who has breast fed in the past are always be ready to produce milk again. After breast feeding for the first time, some women never completely dry up. It is not unusual for a woman to be able to express a drop or two, even years after she has breast fed.

Don’t look for drugs or exotic techniques to inducing lactation: this simple technique of physical stimulation is all there is to successfully inducing lactation. Once past puberty: as long as a woman’s mammary glands are healthy and have not been altered or surgically removed, a woman’s breasts are completely capable of producing milk! This is true for women who have never been pregnant, women who have gone through menopause, and even women who have had a hysterectomy. The presence of a uterus, and/or ovaries, is not required for a woman to lactate: the only thing that is required is healthy breasts and a desire to lactate.

This really is all there is to the physical technique of inducing lactation; HOWEVER, there is one more factor involved: YOU HAVE TO HAVE A REASON!

As long as healthy mammary glands are supplied with body fluids, the hormones Oxytocin and Prolactin, and stimulated electrically, they will produce milk indefinitely! The main obstacle that prevents a woman from producing milk when inducing lactation is not physical technique; it is psychological! The brain has to send an electrical signal, via the nervous system, to stimulate the mammary gland before the mammary gland will make milk!

Mammary glands, like every other part of our body, is controlled by the brain, particularly, a subconscious portion of the brain. If the brain perceives nipple and areola stimulation to be sexual only, the brain will respond by creating a feeling of sexual pleasure only. If the brain perceives nipple and areola stimulation to be the need for milk, the brain will respond by sending an electrical signal, via the nervous system, causing the milk to letdown and the mammary glands to produce milk. The breasts will continue to make milk as long as the brain continues to send electrical signals, stimulating the mammary glands. Also if the brain perceives nipple and areola stimulation to be for both sexual pleasure and the need for milk, it will respond by creating both.

When a mother begins to breast feed her child, she automatically focuses her subconscious mind on making milk. It is this subconscious mental image that causes her brain to send the signal to her mammary glands to letdown and make milk! In addition to sexual arousal caused by nipple stimulation, a woman who inducing lactation must also create the mental image of making milk, in the same manner that a nursing mother would.

The physical technique of inducing lactation is very simple, (physically stimulate the nipples and areolas), however, creating the mental scenario that results in the brain stimulating the mammary glands into milk production is a little more involved. At the same time, once the subconscious has been trained to correctly respond to stimulation, little else matters: you will be able to letdown when you need, and produce milk in whatever quantities needed. As we can see in the example of spontaneous letdown and leakage: when a woman is properly stimulated mentally, she will letdown and produce milk. All physical stimulation does is tell your brain, when and how much milk to make!

Whether dry nursing your partner to induce lactation, or hand massage, finger stimulation and breast pumping, choose a physical technique you are comfortable with and enjoy: then focus on training your subconscious to respond to making milk instead of, or in conjunction with, sexual arousal. The secret to inducing lactation is creating a proper mental state that will cause the brain to stimulate the breasts to letdown, and mammary glands to make milk. How long it takes to lactate, depends entirely on how long it takes you to decide to create the proper mental state! How much milk you will be able to produce will depend on how much milk you want.

If this fails there is drugs that can be used to increase prolactin levels and are fairly safe. Herbs can also be used to help with lacatation.

Herbs

In addition to the medications described above, the following herbs have been found to be helpful in increasing milk supply for women on the protocols:

Fenugreek seed - 3 capsules (580-610 mg each) 3 times a day with food

Blessed Thistle herb - 3 capsules (325-390mg each) 3 times a day with food

These dosages were arrived at through a review of the available literature, a review of the recommendations of several herbal companies, and anecdotal evidence. Many women on the protocols have found that Fenugreek taken alone may cause stomach upset but when it is taken in combination with the Blessed Thistle the stomach upset is reduced or nullified. Taking these herbs with food seems to help as well and is recommended by most of the herb suppliers. Women often report that they smell like maple syrup or curry while taking fenugreek. Many women have found these herbs to be most effective if they are begun after completion of the necessary time on the birth control pill – domperidone combination, and once the women have started to pump. Also, many women have reported feeling nauseated when starting the herbs too early. For this reason it is not desirable to take the herbs while taking the birth control pill and prior to pumping.

#female led relationship #femlit

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plexflexico · 2 years

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When The Seas Sigh and The Sands Weep - A Boba Fett Fic

Characters: Boba Fett, Femme Reader

Rating: Currently SFW - Let’s see how long that lasts.

Word Count: 3.6k

Notes: This is an 18+ work, as is everything else I write.

Content Warnings: Mature themes. Canon compliant themes. Expect violence. The realities of life in a place where they have a literal CRIME BOSS. Some light geology. Heavy hand holding. Mildly naughty thoughts kept appropriately to oneself.

Previous Chapter

The streets are rarely empty in Mos Espa, and your little entourage draws eyes, but only for as long as it takes for them to catch the attention of the boars behind you— and that’s when they look away as if you’d never been the subject of their questioning glances at all.

Oh, the rumours will be flying fast and thick now. Part of you is embarrassed by the attention, but a larger part of you can’t wait for the stir when the Daimyo comes to call on you tomorrow...

***

The following day you throw yourself into work, grateful for the steady trickle of clientele with their aches, pains, sniffles, and rashes. A prescription and an ointment here, a colicky wookiee baby there, an afternoon order from the ‘community nurse’ that you know fronts for the mod parlor, but to whom you sell to at a discount because they’re desperate to buy decent quality antibiotics and painkillers that aren’t laced with black-market junk.

People won’t stop wanting to mod their bodies and they won’t stop getting hurt in ways that the authorities shouldn’t know about— it’s not your business what someone old enough to understand the risks chooses to do to get by in this harsh place. The least you can do is some small gesture to make sure it’s safer, cleaner, and has better end results.

Gradually the bell at the door of your shop stops ringing and you begin to tidy up for the evening, trying not to watch the clock as it creeps closer to the time Boba said he’d arrive.

With twenty minutes to spare before nineteen hundred hours you decide to brew a cup of tea to try to calm the hive of bees buzzing in your stomach. You’re nervous because you like him, but you’re even more nervous because you’re not entirely sure he likes you in the same way.

Ah, but do you like-like him?

“Yes, yes I think I do,” you say to the empty shop, laughing softly at yourself.

At eighteen fifty, your tea growing cold on the counter, you start to feel doubt creeping in. No, he’s not late, but what if he doesn’t come? What if last night was a pleasant distraction, forgotten in the hustle and bustle of his life as a crime boss? What if he’s not as interested as he said? What if he—

The bell at your shop entrance rings.

You whip around, unable to help the wide smile that curves your lips and lights up your eyes when you see the man in the doorway.

His armor looks freshly painted, his helmet tucked under his arm, his black flightsuit and tusken cloth spotless and impossibly neat. You can smell the scent he’s chosen for today, mingling with the oil used to polish his blaster and the sweet scent of resin and wax he must have used to polish his gaderffii which almost glows in the mellow early evening light. Hints of salt sea-spray and sun-baked stone buoyed by a subtle clean note waft through the air, making you want to dance with him again so you might rest your head on his broad shoulder and drink him in.

You have got it bad, girl.

“I hope I’m not too early?”

Oh, it wasn’t just the wine last night, it really was his voice that made you feel like sighing. That melodic cadence set his rough and deep tones dancing through the air and made you think what a paradise it would be to be held against that strong chest as he talked for hours on end.

“Your timing is perfect, Boba. I— I’m glad you’re here.”

If that smile of yours gets any wider the top half of your face will fall off.

Your cheeks heat and you know you must look like a giddy schoolgirl— but there’s the same air of nervous delight emanating from him as well and it makes everything so much sweeter.

Stars, he is so damn beautiful…

"There's nowhere else I'd rather be," he says, and then ducks his head slightly as high colour tints his cheeks. He recovers quickly, looking around at the tidy shelves, the neat and comfortable waiting area with periodical and informational datapads in their slots in the wall rack, the thick and cheery playrug with toys lined up at the ready to keep younglings busy.

"I like your shop," he says and it doesn't feel like a platitude or small-talk. He's earnest, sincere, and it warms you like the second sun rising on a chilly morning.

"Thank you, it's my life's work, this little place. It's everything I dreamed of since I decided I wanted to be a pharmacist."

"Did you always want to be a pharmacist?"

"Oh, no! I used to want to be a professional tooka trainer, dressing them up in costumes and making them jump through hoops and do tricks."

His brows raise in amused surprise "A tooka trainer?"

You grin at him cheekily, "I was four and my parents took me to what passed for a circus in our little town. It was all I could talk about for weeks!"

Laughter bloomed from him, warming you and stirring the embers of your attraction to a brighter glow.

“I’m glad you gave up on your dream, I’m allergic to the damn things.”

“You know, I have something for that—”

“Then perhaps if you change careers it might not be so bad after all,” he chuckles.

“Glad I can keep my options open, I’d hate to think—” You stop, unsure of yourself and of him, wondering if you’ve said too much, too soon.

Boba steps forward, his eyes gone soft and his face serious, “So would I.”

A beat passes and then the sparkle is back, “I was thinking we could go somewhere, talk a bit, and then maybe dinner?”

“I think that sounds fantastic. Should I change?”

“You’re perfect. I’ve got a helmet and some dura-weave you on the bike.”

“Bike?”

“You’ll see.”

***

“When you said ‘bike’ I wasn’t expecting this.”

It’s practically vintage— a big and mean-looking BARC speeder that’s been heavily modified. The single driver’s seat had been extended to allow a passenger behind, the rear seat/gunner position had been removed and modified into a sleek carrier rack and trunk combo, with the rear repulsors re-mounted for tighter turning, splayed out so that the bike was lower to the ground than usual.

The body is painted in what you’ve come to understand are Boba’s colours— the green of growth, red like blood, and the yellow of a hundred suns. The paint shines in the sun and the accents sparkle silver and gold, everything looking like the speeders you sometimes see among the upper echelons, washed and loved and cared for like babies so they never show a smudge or scratch.

“Here,” he says as he digs into the trunk, pulling out a sleek, trooper-style helmet in black and a matching, long sleeved armored shirt. “Put these on. Can’t have you getting wind-burn.”

“Where were you thinking? Beggars?”

He doesn’t answer, just smiles and turns to adjust the seat.

You slip on the top, the fit making you think it’s one of Boba’s own. You get the helmet on next and he’s standing there grinning at you like he’s won a prize as he slips on his own before climbing on the speeder, his strong thighs a sight to behold as he straddles the machine.

“Come on,” his voice coming through the com in the hemet. “Let’s go for a ride.”

You’re sure he heard your quick intake of breath and you just about died from embarrassment when your helmet’s internal display registered a drastically increased heart rate. You hop up behind him, holding lightly to his hips as he pulls away from your shop and heads down the street.

There’s not much room for two, just enough really, so your legs are slotted directly behind and under his along the bike’s frame. It feels good to be close to him again. To be up against his broad, armored back, his leg muscles bunching and shifting as you turn corners and dodge the ever-present stalls and citizens that comprise the early-evening streetscape of Mos Espa.

By the time you’ve reached the edge of town you can anticipate the direction he’s going to turn by the subtle shift of balance as you move fluidly with him.

“Hold tight, Doc. Let’s see what this thing can do.”

You lean into him further, arms slipping around his waist as he opens the throttle and the speeder responds instantly, rocketing up the road. Climbing the slope you see the entirety of Mos Espa laid out below, tinted ochre-yellow, cream, and gold under the slowly setting suns.

He spurs the speeder on even faster, the repulsors thrumming underneath you as the wind whips by.

Reaching the top of the cliff that surrounds the sinkhole which forms the ‘main’ part of the city Boba turns away from the outskirts, heading out into the desert flats along the sharp ridge that forms the south western wall of Beggar’s Canyon.

The suns sink lower into the purple sky and the brightest stars begin to make their presence known. The wind is getting chillier, and you don’t stop yourself from snuggling into his back a bit more, one of his hands leaving the controls to brush along your arms where they cradle his waist.

It thrills you, this closeness. His soft touch on your arm. The scent of him that comes from the duraweave protecting you from the worst of the sand.

“We’re almost there,” comes his smooth voice through the com. “How are you holding up?”

“Fine and better than fine,” you reply softly, this time resisting the urge to squeeze him harder.

He hums in response and the speeder begins to slow as you approach a stand of rock jutting out of the desert sands. Carefully maneuvering around the stones that peek out here and there he heads to the lee side and brings the bike to a stop.

You don’t want to let go, and he doesn’t seem to be in a rush either. His hands lay lightly now on yours, a hint of warmth through the leather of his gloves reaching you.

“Come with me,” he says as his fingers stroke tentatively. “There’s something I want you to see.”

Nodding, you sit up reluctantly and pull off your helmet as he climbs off. He reaches out, takes the helmet from you with one hand and helps you down with the other. Pulling off his own bucket he sets them both on the seat.

Leading you towards the rocks he pauses for a moment to grab a duffle from the trunk on the bike, then slips his arm through yours to lead you to a sheltered spot among the spires of stone.

Drawing a large bundle from the bag, Boba unfolds a large skin and lays it on the soft sand. Next comes a blanket to give you a soft place to lounge on the hide, a bottle of wine, and two cups.

“I thought we could come out here and talk a bit while we wait. No one knows about this place except Fennec, and she won’t interrupt or send anyone to interrupt. Not unless it’s life or death.”

Boba settles himself in a fluid motion, reaching out to you and taking your hand to guide you down next to him.

The next few minutes are spent on opening wine and pouring you each a glass, then carefully arranging himself to be close to you, but not close enough to be scandalous.

“So what did you want to show me, Boba?”

He smiles at you, his gaze holding yours with ease.

“Not yet. You’ll have to be patient.”

Swirling your wine in your glass, you relax into the blanket a little more as the last of the daylight dims and dies on the horizon.

Boba, too, settles and leans back, staring up at the twinkling lights that are so piercingly bright when you’re away from the bustle of the city.

He sips his wine, swallows, and without looking at you asks, “What do you know about me?”

You can sense the weight of his question and the nerves behind it.

What do you know?

“You’re the best of the best of the bounty hunters. You worked directly for Vader. Your last job for him involved you personally capturing Han Solo. You’re feared, and with good reason,” you pause, taking a sip, realizing what you’re about to say next and letting the feeling of being in a dream wash over you.

“You died the same day as Jabba the Hutt. Swallowed by the Sarlaac. Years passed and the last remnants of the skiff were scavenged and there was nothing left but a hungry hole in the desert and a legend. Then came the rumors. That you had escaped. That your ghost was angry and walking among the Tuskens, your shade bent on revenge.”

The corners of your lips curl up and you wish you had a lantern to hold under your chin like you were telling stories by the fire as children.

Boba chuckled, eyes still fixed on the constellations slowly wheeling above.

“I felt like a ghost. Thought I died in that stinking pit,” he said in a low, soft voice. “What else? What else do you know about me?”

“I know you’re the son of Jango Fett, who was mentored by Jaster Mereel. That you lost your father when you were very young and after that you had a very hard life. Maybe that’s the reason you abhor slavery, drug dealers, and bullies— that’s what some people think, anyway.”

“What do you think?”

“Drugs and slavery are bad for business, unless you’re on top, and then they’re fine for your bottom line but bad for keeping your heart beating and your head attached to the rest of you. Bullies are weak-minded, weak at heart, and tend to lack loyalty— so they’re bad whether you’re on top or not.”

Boba huffs an amused snort, “Sounds like you have some experience with what it takes to stay on top.”

Warmed by the wine and enchanted by your company you find yourself feeling bold and uncharacteristically impatient, quipping, “Keep up the flattery and you’ve got a good chance of finding out whether or not that’s true.”

That, at last, manages to pull his attention away from the sky long enough for him to fix you with a look and a quirked eyebrow. There’s just enough light to catch the tension at the corners of his mouth as he tries to suppress a grin and for you to get a sense of the heat in his gaze as his eyes flick over you.

You know, in that moment, that he’s imagining it. He’s picturing you above him, all breathy moans and blissful abandon— just as you’re picturing how he would look with eyes half-closed and his skin sheened with sweat as you move over him.

And then— his soft smile breaks through and your own answers without hesitation.

Turning back to the sky, he murmurs something in a language you don’t understand, that soft smile never leaving his face as he switches to basic, “You want to know what I know about you?”

“You know about me? Do tell!”

“Garsa’s the one who recommended you to me. She thought I could use the talents of a good pharmacist. Said you’re just the right kind of person to get me what I need and who is also going to make sure that’s all I’m getting.”

He sets down his cup and leans back with his arms crossed behind his head, still smiling as though he’s been enchanted, “She said you helped more than one person working for her when a customer got a little too rough or slipped something in their drink. Helped some of them in other ways, too. Without judgment— just kindness.”

“What else did Madam Garsa have to say about me?”

“That you were born here. Your family is from the desert, making a living out of moisture farming, crystal hunting, and trading with the desert people.” His face serious again, his eyes searching the sky for something as his voice drifts through the deepening night, “You left to study but spent every minute you could back here until your schooling was done. Then you came back and you stayed— and you haven’t left since.”

“Well,” you say, drawing the word out a little in a teasing way, “That’s not entirely true. I went to Ord Pardron for a week about five years ago.”

That earned you a huff of laughter, but as he opens his mouth to speak Boba’s posture changes from loose and warm to the same preternatural stillness of an anooba that’s spotted an injured creature limping along the sands.

“There, what I wanted to show you.” His voice is deep honey with a spark of something between excitement and apprehension. “Look due west, above that spire. See that fuzzy spiral?”

“That’s the Rishi Maze.”

“Yes, but look just below that” He leans over to allow you to sight along his pointing finger, “There’s four stars, there, that make a bowl shape— and in that bowl there’s another star? Do you see it?”

“Yes, the reddish one?”

Boba lowers his arm, but doesn’t move away.

“That’s where I’m from. The Kamino system.”

He says this in a strangely flat way, as if it’s uncomfortable for him to acknowledge despite being the very thing he had brought you here to see.

“What was it like? Growing up there?”

You’re still staring at Kamino in the sky, a sultry red jewel kept safe in its nest of bright diamonds. From the corner of your eye you catch him looking at you, but you don’t move to dissuade him.

You just don’t want him seeing that you’d be staring back like a lovesick blurrg calf.

Maker, I want him to kiss me.

He’s so close to you that you can feel the heat from his skin, and when he begins to speak he keeps his voice low as if he doesn’t want the rocks behind to hear, or maybe so you’ll need to lean a little closer.

“Kamino is a water world. It rains almost all the time— big storms are rare, but the rain never seems to let up. When it does there’s fog off the water and it’s hard to see the stars at night. You’re never far from the sound of the waves— from the wind and rain, but the stars are a rare sight.”

Boba picks up the bottle, topping up both your drinks. He leans back again, even closer this time, his shoulder brushing yours and sending a delicious shiver through you.

“I learned to swim before I could walk. Fell asleep every night watching the waves at the horizon, nothing ever still— never the same from one moment to the next.”

“Do you miss it?”

He’s quiet for a moment, his eyes scanning the horizon.

“I dream of it,” he finally says. “I don’t know if that’s the same thing, but it feels like it might be.”

“Why Tatooine? It’s just a great big ball of sand and misery. You have the reputation and the skills to go anywhere, do anything— but you stay here and give jobs to the street kids, police the traders and stop them from exploiting the poor while you extract tribute from the richest to pay the slaves you’ve freed. You’re trying to make things better for people you don’t even know and who can’t do a thing for you.”

Quiet falls over the desert and your heart speeds up, your eyes pricking hotly as you wonder if perhaps you’ve overstepped, perhaps upset him— He is utterly still with his eyes fixed on the sky again.

Oh, you idiot. You’ve always been too direct for your own good.

“I didn’t think it was that odd for a ghost to haunt the place where they met their demise,” he says, turning to throw you a wry grin. “Don’t the shades of the restless usually try to make right what they’ve done wrong?”

Thank the Maker, this isn’t over yet.

“So it’s a redemption arc, then? You’re going to ‘save the town’, the music will swell, and then the credits will roll down the holoscreen as you’re silhouetted by the setting suns?”

Boba bursts out laughing, a genuine and hearty belly-laugh that gets your own giggles going at the thought of him starring in a bad holovid with cheap props and a ham-handed script.

“I’m not sure becoming a crime boss is what I’d call redemption,” he says quietly. “Hope I still get the girl in the end, though.”

Your cheeks heat as he flicks his eyes up to meet yours, and there's an earnestness shining there that melts something in your heart that you didn’t realize had been frozen.

Stop it. You’re not falling in love. Don’t be silly.

You barely know him.

You’re simply intrigued by a fine-looking man with fine manners and broad shoulders.

It’s the wine.

The moonlight and stars.

(It’s that he brought you here to show you a part of himself that he holds close to his heart.

It’s that he’s not sure of all of this, exactly, but he seems to be very sure about what he feels here and now.

It’s that he’s sweet and nervous with you and a man who laughs like he knows how to really appreciate happiness but hasn’t had nearly enough of it.)

“Well, Boba, you’re in luck.”

“Oh?” His eyes are sparkling and the most adorable crinkles appear at the corners as he smiles.

“I’ve always been a sucker for a happy ending,” you say, your voice lower and a little huskier than you’d intended.

Something flashes in his eyes that darkens his expression— and it’s gone before you can be sure of what you saw and forgotten the next second when his fingers find yours on the blanket, twining around and through.

His hand is warm, with strong fingers that are lightly blaster-calloused and raised ridges of smooth scar tissue on his palm and fingers that whisper against your skin.

His eyes flick up to yours, an unspoken question there that you answer with a gentle squeeze.

Yes, this is ok. It’s good. I want this. I want what’s happening between us.

I want you.

To Be Continued!

#boba fett #daimyo of mos espa #boba fett x fem reader #boba fett fic #tbobf #the book of boba fett #star wars fic

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Sunday, June 11, 2023

Energy Drinks Are Surging. So Are Their Caffeine Levels. (NYT) It has been more than 25 years since Red Bull hit the market and introduced caffeinated energy drinks to the United States. While the company claimed its beverage would “give you wings,” it never said it was actually good for people. Yet as the energy drink market continues to grow rapidly, companies both new and old are trying to attract health-conscious customers with a wave of no-sugar, low-calorie drinks that claim to boost energy as well as replenish fluids with electrolytes and other ingredients. This new focus has helped the energy drink market grow, with sales in the United States surging to $19 billion from $12 billion over the past five years. But there are concerns that drinks being pitched as healthy are resulting in children and teenagers consuming caffeine in unhealthy amounts. A 12-ounce can of Prime Energy contains 200 milligrams of caffeine. That’s roughly equivalent to two Red Bulls, two cups of coffee or six cans of Coca-Cola. Some schools in Britain and Australia have already banned the beverages. In the United States, federal regulations say schools cannot sell or provide caffeinated drinks to elementary or middle school students, although many schools do not restrict what students can bring from home. “Not long after drinking them, the students showed up in the health office saying they didn’t feel good and that their hearts were racing,” said [one school nurse].

A Puzzle in Arizona’s Boom Towns: How to Keep Growing With Less Water (NYT) As the mayor of an old farming town bursting with new homes, factories and warehouses, Eric Orsborn spends his days thinking about water. The lifeblood for this growth is billions of gallons of water pumped from the ground, and his city, Buckeye, Ariz., is thirsty for more as builders push deeper into the desert fringes of Phoenix. But last week, Arizona announced it would limit some future home construction in Buckeye and other places because of a shortfall in groundwater. A new state study found groundwater supplies in the Phoenix area were about 4 percent short of what is needed for planned growth over the next 100 years. That may feel like a far-off horizon, but it is enough of a change to force the state to rethink its future in the near and long terms. Now, there are urgent questions about how Arizona should be using its increasingly precious water—for water-guzzling alfalfa and lettuce farms or thirsty new computer chip and battery factories and coffee-creamer manufacturing? For new sprawl or more development inside cities? Could the Phoenix suburbs keep up their frenzied pace of growth? Should they?

Four Colombian children found alive in jungle weeks after plane crash (Reuters) Four children from an Indigenous community in Colombia were found alive in the country’s south on Friday more than five weeks after the plane they were traveling in crashed in thick jungle, Colombia’s President Gustavo Petro said. The plane—a Cessna 206—was carrying seven people on a route between Araracuara, in Amazonas province, and San Jose del Guaviare, a city in Guaviare province, when it issued a mayday alert due to engine failure in the early hours of May 1. Three adults, including the pilot and the children’s mother Magdalena Mucutuy, died as a result of the crash and their bodies were found inside the plane. The four siblings, aged 13, 9, 4, as well as a now 12-month-old baby, survived the impact. Narcizo Mucutuy, the grandfather of the three girls and one boy, told reporters he was delighted at the news of their rescue.

Argentina inflation seen hitting 149% this year, up from previous poll (Reuters) Analysts polled by Argentina’s central bank forecast annual inflation this year at 149%, above the 126% expected in the previous poll, according to the monthly survey released on Friday. For May, the analysts polled expect prices to have risen 9% in the month. Argentina’s economy, strained by a historic drought that has worsened an ongoing currency crisis, is expected to shrink 3% in 2023 from 2022. Analysts see the weakened Argentine peso, currently officially valued at 245 pesos per dollar, ending this year at 408.68 pesos per dollar and 2024 at 917.54 pesos per dollar. Rising prices and tumbling foreign reserves pose a challenge for Argentina’s left-leaning government ahead of general elections in October.

Boris Johnson quits as UK lawmaker after being told he will be sanctioned for misleading Parliament (AP) Former U.K. Prime Minister Boris Johnson shocked Britain on Friday by quitting as a lawmaker after being told he will be sanctioned for misleading Parliament. Johnson resigned after receiving the results of an investigation by lawmakers into misleading statements he made to Parliament about “partygate,” a series of rule-breaking government parties during the COVID-19 pandemic. By quitting, he avoids a suspension that could have seen him ousted from his Commons seat by his constituents, leaving him free to run for Parliament again in the future.

Russia to deploy nuclear weapons to Belarus in July. (1440) Russian President Vladimir Putin made the announcement in a televised meeting with the Belarusian leader Friday. Belarus, a close ally of Russia, neighbors Ukraine to the north and shares an almost-700-mile border. Russian forces have used Belarus as a staging ground since the beginning of the war.

UN aid chief says Ukraine faces ‘hugely worse’ humanitarian situation after the dam rupture (AP) The humanitarian situation in Ukraine is “hugely worse” than before the Kakhovka dam collapsed, the U.N.’s top aid official warned Friday. Undersecretary-General Martin Griffiths said an “extraordinary” 700,000 people are in need of drinking water and warned that the ravages of flooding in one of the world’s most important breadbaskets will almost inevitably lead to lower grain exports, higher food prices around the world, and less to eat for millions in need. “This is a viral problem,” he said in an interview with The Associated Press. “But the truth is this is only the beginning of seeing the consequences of this act.”

As Ukraine Launches Counteroffensive, Definitions of ‘Success’ Vary (NYT) After months of anticipation, Ukraine’s forces—newly trained on complex warfare tactics and armed with billions of dollars in sophisticated Western weaponry—launched operations on multiple fronts in the past week in an effort to dislodge entrenched Russian military units, a counteroffensive that many officials in the United States and Europe say could be a turning point in the 15-month war. What remains unclear, though, is exactly what the United States, Europe and Ukraine view as a “successful” counteroffensive. Publicly, American and European officials are leaving any definition of success to President Volodymyr Zelensky of Ukraine. Privately, U.S. and European officials concede that pushing all of Russia’s forces out of occupied Ukrainian land is highly unlikely. Throughout the war, the Ukrainian army, with deeply motivated troops, creative military operations and advanced Western weaponry, has outperformed Russia’s military. But the Ukrainians have also found it difficult to dislodge the Russians from their entrenched defensive positions in the last few months, with the front lines barely moving.

A Rising India Is Also, in One Remote Pocket, a Blood-Soaked War Zone (NYT) People burned out of their homes by the hundreds. Villages, even refugee camps, raked with gunfire. Men, women and children beaten and set ablaze by angry mobs. India, the world’s most populous country and home to the fastest-growing major economy, is now also the site of a war zone, as weeks of ethnic violence in the remote northeastern state of Manipur has claimed about 100 lives. Militarized buffer zones now crisscross the state, patrolled by local women—who are seen as less hotheaded than men—and the thousands of troops who have been sent to quell the fighting, drawing down forces in other parts of India, including the border with China. More than 35,000 people have become refugees, with many living in makeshift camps. Internet service has been cut—an increasingly common tactic by the Indian government—and travel restrictions have made it difficult for the outside world to see in. The development has been jarring for a nation whose 1.4 billion people usually manage to get along despite belonging to thousands of sometimes rivalrous ethnic groups. And it presents an unwelcome image of instability for a national government focused on portraying India as a rising global power. “It is a nightmare,” said Mairembam Ratan, a small-town career counselor who escaped his home with help from the army. “It’s a civil war.”

The Pentagon Is Freaking Out About a Potential War With China (Politico) The war began in the early morning hours with a massive bombardment—China’s version of “shock and awe.” Chinese planes and rockets swiftly destroyed most of Taiwan’s navy and air force as the People’s Liberation army and navy mounted a massive amphibious assault across the 100-mile Taiwan Strait. Having taken seriously President Joe Biden’s pledge to defend the island, Beijing also struck pre-emptively at U.S. and allied air bases and ships in the Indo-Pacific. The U.S. managed to even the odds for a time by deploying more sophisticated submarines as well as B-21 and B-2 stealth bombers to get inside China’s air defense zones, but Washington ran out of key munitions in a matter of days and saw its network access severed. The United States and its main ally, Japan, lost thousands of service members, dozens of ships, and hundreds of aircraft. Taiwan’s economy was devastated. And as a protracted siege ensued, the U.S. was much slower to rebuild, taking years to replace ships as it reckoned with how shriveled its industrial base had become compared to China’s. The Chinese “just ran rings around us,” said former Joint Chiefs Vice Chair Gen. John Hyten in one after-action report. “They knew exactly what we were going to do before we did it.” Dozens of versions of the above war-game scenario have been enacted over the last few years, most recently in April by the House Select Committee on competition with China. And while the ultimate outcome in these exercises is not always clear—the U.S. does better in some than others—the cost is. In every exercise the U.S. uses up all its long-range air-to-surface missiles in a few days, with a substantial portion of its planes destroyed on the ground. In every exercise the U.S. is not engaged in an abstract push-button war from 30,000 feet up like the ones Americans have come to expect since the end of the Cold War, but a horrifically bloody one. And that’s assuming the U.S.-China war doesn’t go nuclear.

Saudi crown prince threatened ‘major’ economic pain on U.S. amid oil feud (Washington Post) Last fall, President Biden vowed to impose “consequences” on Saudi Arabia for its decision to slash oil production amid high energy prices and fast-approaching elections in the United States. In public, the Saudi government defended its actions politely via diplomatic statements. But in private, Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman threatened to fundamentally alter the decades-old U.S.-Saudi relationship and impose significant economic costs on the United States if it retaliated against the oil cuts, according to a classified document obtained by The Washington Post. The crown prince claimed “he will not deal with the U.S. administration anymore,” the document says, promising “major economic consequences for Washington.” It is unclear whether the crown prince’s threat was conveyed directly to U.S. officials or intercepted through electronic eavesdropping, but his dramatic outburst reveals the tension at the heart of a relationship long premised on oil-for-security but rapidly evolving as China takes a growing interest in the Middle East and the United States assesses its own interests as the world’s largest oil producer.

From restaurants to water towers, unrest dents Senegal’s economy (Reuters) A KFC restaurant ransacked. Public transport torched. Glass-paneled stations for a multi-million dollar electric bus link shattered. A water plant vandalised. Senegal is taking stock of the damage after the jail sentencing of prominent opposition figure Ousmane Sonko sparked the worst civil unrest in decades that threatens to dent progress in one of Africa’s fastest-growing economies. Sixteen people died and hundreds were injured. Rioters attacked banks, supermarkets and petrol stations. Small businesses were also hitAn attack on a state-owned water plant could create shortages in Dakar, where it hasn’t rained for eight months and where water cuts are common, an official said. Aside from the damage, a day of protests can slow economic output by the equivalent of up to around $33 million per day, the government estimates. Citizens rapidly feel the pinch in a country where over 95% of the work is informal.

#headlines #news

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