#minimal research went into this | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

screampied · 3 months

Text

MONEY HONEY! — ☆ GOJO SATORU.

➤ popstar!gojo masterlist

headline. fucking your client wasn’t on your bucket list. the famous popstar 'toru' says he can’t perform because of issues he’s having with his voice. but he finds another way to warm up his vocal cords—it involves being between your legs.

word count. 4.2k

warnings. fem! reader, popstar!gojo, pwp, unprotected sex, modern au, he's a whiney brat, overstim, degradation, praise, semi public, impact play, cunnilingus, fingering.

an. lol this was fun 2 write !! ty @osaemu as always for beta'ing

“…nono, you don’t understand. i can’t go out there, i just…can’t—!” gojo mutters, and he’s pacing back and forth. talk about a drama queen. to think you had to deal with this every day, being the infamous satoru gojo’s personal assistant was never an easy task. his attire was…quite enthralling to say the least. gojo was draped up in a sheeny black one-piece with rhinestones attached in a few places, he always had his outfits designed a certain way. not too tight, not too big.

you sat on the sofa, taking a sip of a latte he bought you as a thanks for saving him to deal with the hoards of paparazzi that practically lived outside the stadium back-way entrance.

“satoru, you do this before every show,” you sigh, glancing at him. you couldn’t lie to yourself, he was strikingly handsome. gojo’s hair was a tad bit messy and ruffled. it was a slight v-cut towards his chest to show a bit of skin. his fangirls always went wild over the most minimal things such as that. “you do realize you’re supposed to be performing in front of 10,000 people? canceling right before a show isn’t a good l—”

“i know…i know,” he pouts, and he’s so unserious, you sort of found it hard to believe this was a millionaire pop star who’s such a household name. gojo lets off a loud sigh before walking towards you with a sheepish grin. “these cough drops you’ve been givinʼ me haven’t done shit.”

“really...” you deadpan, casually giving him nothing but a sly eye roll.

gojo sulks and he’s just a few feet apart from you now. “mhm…really,” he says, and the slight rasp in his voice catches your attention. his earpiece was still on, as well with his mic that hung just barely underneath his chin. “i did research though. about other methods that help with heh, um vocal fry..”

you stare up at the popstar, and he’s returning the gaze…as if he was trying to hide the smile that was already forming against his pink lips. you don’t give him an answer and this time, he’s the one to roll his eyes.

“…well since you asked so nicely,” he grumbles, the same pout going against his face before he pulls out his phone. gojo scrolls a thumb down against his bright screen before clearing his throat. “hm, according to this totally accurate article, it says… to fully recover from vocal fry, a guy must uh, receive a special treat within a woman’s—”

you blankly stare at him, already second-guessing his fake response. “just say you want to eat me out, satoru.”

“wha— where’d you get that impression?” he plays dumb, furrowing his eyebrows and cowardly looks around the room. a few seconds go by before he shrugs, speaking quickly, defeated. “….fine i wanna eat you out. hmph.”

you turn your head for a brief moment, hearing the defending roars of the crowd just a few areas down from the dressing room the two of you currently stayed in. “maybe after your show, they're chanting for y—”

“they can wait,” he frowns, and he turns you around, two hands softly holding onto your shoulders. gojo remained with a pout, bottom lip just slightly tucking underneath the top one. “i can’t.”

the both of you grow quiet for a long moment, and gojo seems serious—dramatic, but serious. you and him both exchanged sensual eye contact, and you were so close to gojo that you could practically smell the strong cinnamon scent of his intoxicating cologne. the popstar smooths his lips together before briefly shifting his eyes down at the floor and then back up at you.

“five minutes…five minutes, that isn't too long is it?” he stammers, and the gaze the two of you made starts to get more and more intense. “i won’t get into too much trouble if it's just five minutes right?”

“you’re insufferable.” you mumble, letting off a soft sigh. “okay, five minutes. if you say this helps with your—vocal whatever.”

not much to your surprise, five minutes turned into half an hour.

you held back a moan the sudden second you felt gojo’s warm tongue swiftly lap against your drenched folds. he made you wriggle against him, and you maintained a rough grip against the laid-back sofa.

“s-satoru,” you’d whimper out, gasping at how sloppy he was. you were prompt up in such a position to where you were bent over the arm part of the couch, skirt lifted, fishnets just barely pulled down, and the most vulgar expression. “oh my g-goddd, you're gonna make the others outside h-hear.”

“you’ll just have to be a little more quiet, assistant,” he whispers, cool breath fanning against your pussy. perhaps this was unprofessional, no it was very unprofessional. a plethora of following consequences started to race through your mind. “what time is it?”

you moaned, reaching near the wooden half table for his watch and read the time, “um.. quarter past eight.”

“aw man,” he sulks, softly licking the your tender pulsating numb with the very tip of his tongue. with a quick second, he maneuvers circles all over your clit to feel you squirm and jitter against him. “that much time passed? can’t stand rushing…”

as you cling onto the fluffed couch, your black pencil skirt that was just sluggishly raised up and yet, you continued to gnaw the inside of your lip from the feelings of his tongue, entirely sloppy.

the slurps that exited from his mouth had your bottom lip quivering in such desire. you craved more, the way he swirled and curved the length of his tongue throughout your pussy earned umpteen gasps and whines from you.

“s—satoru,” you’d croak out, and he’s casually taking the time to make out with your folds. languidly, your slick race down his chin, and between breaks to breathe, he'd lap up his tongue before diving back in. “fuck, ‘m gonna cum again, think ‘m gonna cum..”

“wait a little longer, yeah?” he murmurs, grabbing the fat of your ass with two rough hands. you felt bundles of butterflies stir inside your stomach, feeling gojo’s nose swipe against your folds for a few jiffs. “let me eat, haven't had a good meal all fuckin’ day.”

you swallowed, not even facing him but you could practically see the grin stretching across his lips. “and…and who’s fault was that?”

he chuckles, warm breath fanning against your cunt. “okay, you have a point,” and your thighs feel feverish—you’re so hot, and not because of the sudden humidity wafting around the small dressing room.

the popstar lolls out his tongue, humming before you moan, feeling him lick your pussy in a straight direction. “mhm, this is better than anything else though.”

you were about to speak, but all that did was make you let out a shaky whine. the smooth pads of his thumbs graze against both parts of your ass as he continued to eat you out like a starved man. it was as if time stood still, your mouth grew exceedingly dry and your legs felt like they could barely stand up on their own.

“sa..satoru,” you once more repeated, not knowing how long you could last. simply, his tongue was dangerous—god, it was just the way he moved it in every direction.

he knew where to lick, where to suck, and even nibble. gojo found himself tickling his tongue against your little nub before sucking on it. all to hear you cry out in desperation. cacophonies of whimpers depart from your glossed lips such as, ‘satoru,’ ‘please-please,’ and ‘m gonna c-cum.’

there was no denying, gojo had you an entire stammering mess. you found yourself even questioning how this became, the two of you were never intimate. although, there's always been steamy moments between the two of you.

for instance, there was a moment where gojo took you with him to the hot springs while he was on tour…which non-surprisingly led to a hot make-out sesh. that was a few months ago, and the two of you decided to not think much of it. of course though, there are always assumptions being made about the two of you—always from the nosy journalists and interviewers.

each interview, it’d always be questions they’d ask about the precious little assistant that’s essentially attached by the hip to the famous gojo satoru.

“are you and that girl exclusive yet?”

“how long have you two seen each other?”

“please. describe to us. what’s she like in b—”

they’d get more perverted each time. alas, gojo always loathed it whenever the press referred to you as ‘that’ girl.

his jaw would always clench in sheer annoyance. perhaps he didn't have the right to feel that way, but he was somewhat protective over you. it wasn't like you were his bodyguard or anything clearly, but still. he always liked how you treated him just like you’d treat anyone else.

“satoru..” you'd cut him off from his deep thoughts. “your phone keeps beeping.”

“huuuuh?” he grouches, ears perking at the annoying screech of his device. gojo’s thumbs remain against both edges of your ass before he breaks off his lips, a long string of his own saliva running down your slit. “oh, can you hand it to me?”

he's so nonchalant, and with your back still arched, you lightly fling his phone towards him.

he grumbles.

picking up the phone, typing in his twenty one digit passcode of ‘sexymansexyspraycan69’ before with a click, it unlocks. gojo darts his eyes towards his phone and hums at the five messages left from his manager, kento nanami.

‘Greetings. Where are you? Message me Ass.’

‘ASAP. Autocorrect.’

‘Your fans think your dead.’

‘Don’t tell me you're busy with that assistant of yours again.’

‘When your sales start going low, don't blame me.’

and many more unread, “blah blah yeah yeah,” gojo murmurs, skimming through the loads of unread gray bubbled messages. “nothing important. geez, can't have a single moment to myself.”

you were so close to orgasming and that's when gojo flips you over to face him—you're panting and he flashes you a soft smile, leaning in to kiss your forehead. “aw, waiting for me?” he whispers, bringing a gentle kiss towards the inner corner of your neck. his touch was immensely warm, something you just couldn't describe. “you wanna cum don't you, baby?

“m-mhmm.” was all you could manage out, wrapping your arms around him as he got right between you. gojo continues to trail kisses down your neck before chuckling.

“use those words, c’mon. don't be shy. i wanna hear ya tell me what you want.”

the way he was such a tease, you couldn't stand him, then again you could. so annoying, gojo’s warmth of his performing outfit brushed against your skin. the perfectly knitted fabric of it dancing against your skin as he inched closer towards you. “tell me how much of a messy girl you wanna be.”

“i—” you started, and he took a moment to stare into your eyes. gojo looked so pretty, smug yes, but pretty. long lashes each time he blinked, fluttering against him. whenever he showcased that well-known cheeky smile of his, his dimples would poke right against his lips. “i-i wanna cum. please, lemme cum, ‘toru..”

“pretty girllll wants to cummmm,” he sings in a playful melodic tune. again, you couldn't stand him. singing right in the middle of something so intimate. gojo runs a hand down your buttoned-up shirt before chuckling. “hm, i suppose. go ahead, let go fʼr me.”

once you do, immediately your vision turns dizzy. all you saw was a few blotches of white, and it feels so good that the feelings have you biting down on your lip. gojo leans into your neck, whispering sweet nothings against you while giving your ass a soft caress.

“good girl, just let go…yeah,” he purrs, giving your collarbone a gentle suck. you taste so sweet to him. you're addicting, simple as that. like candy he can't get enough of.

gojo satoru had a sweet tooth for you, there was no doubt about it. “fuck, i can just suck on you all day,” he utters in a low voice, and his warm hands part your thighs so he can get a bit more between you. “i need more…fuck the fans, i need you.”

“idiot, don’t say that..” you moan, and he's kissing all down the crevices of your neck again. gojo’s lips against your tender skin gave you chills. even still, you were so hot, from the neck down. it felt amazing, the feeling of him sucking and kissing against your skin to such a point that you're just throbbing. “t-they’re waiting for you.”

“they can keep waiting,” he smiles, leaning down to kiss near your chest, moving the exclusive backstage lanyard pass away with a slight grip. “damn, you don't know how hard i’ve been during rehearsal. i—i think about you, you know?”

you gawk up at him as his body towers over you, his costume glimmers in the light before he starts to peel it off carefully. you were taken by surprise so you mutter, “you…you do?”

“well yeah girl,” he rolls his eyes, such sass in his tone, following with the low rasp that hid underneath his voice. “you drive me crazy in the worst way.”

“the feeling’s mutual, popstar.” you utter, a glint in your eye.

“hmpf. now that i was nice enough to let you cum, you decide to be a brat, huh?” he raises a brow, using two fingers to brush his mic piece aside.

a coyish grin goes against your lips. “sorry. are you gonna do anything about it?”

“…shut up..” he grumbles, and he does.

pretty much, you then found yourself on your hands and knees on the couch, feeling gojo caress your ass briefly before meeting the mounds of your skin with a mean spank.

you suck in shortened breath. “ooh,” he says as you moan in unison of the light thwack. “you get off on spanks, huh?” he utters in a grouse, the feeling of his palm kissing against your skin making you continuously pulse.

“n-no.” you spat.

“liar,” he matches your snarky tone, and you let off a gasp once you feel him finally rub the tip of his dick against your folds. gojo grows abnormally quiet the minute your slick coats his length freely. “fuckkk,” he sighs, eyes closing for a short second. you teasingly wriggled your ass against him and he spanks you again. “you’re so impatient, wait.”

“do you even know how to fuck?” you slip out, and you held back a giggle. perhaps you shouldn't have said that, your thoughts did speak way more than they should anyway.

gojo’s eyebrows curl into a furrow, and his voice genuinely sounds offended. “wha—?! of course i do.”

“just asking.” you tease.

“just asking,” he mocks your tone, completely butchering it purposely and gojo slowly starts to make his way inside of your tight pussy. he's gradually moving himself in, and you let off a moan before he continues, “yeah. shut the f-fuck up.”

a small grin stretches against your lips, because you hear how gojo stutters whilst sinking inches into you. even while trying to be mean and degrading, he was so close to moaning himself. it was simply adorable. you maintained a mere pristine arch while biting the inside of your cheek once more.

“you're s-so wet ‘n sloppy,” he huffs out a groan, and the squelches your pussy made against him was simply enticing. for a second, you grew mute once you gave your own body a listen. just the faint sounds of gojo’s jagged breathing, “f-fuck, ‘s good. keep facing that way, just like that. good.”

gojo’s touch against your spine was purely gossamer.

he was soft, gentle, delicate.

yet the minute he started to create a pace with his rollicked hips, he couldn't contain himself. the way his dick probed throughout your walls, you kissed your teeth in longing—just for him to just hurry.

gojo was always such a tease, the fat plump head of his cock dabbing against your pussy.

“s-stop playing and just put it in.” you moaned, growing impatient by the mile.

“heh, you know what they say,” he mumbles, you pulse even more once you feel him slide in about a single inch or two…only to then go right back out. “patience is a virgin.”

“…it’s virtue.”

“that’s what i sai—”

“just fuck me.” you whined.

gojo giggles, and finally, he starts up his slovenly pace again. he grips onto your hips before sighing. he takes note of the way you progressively suck him in.

you linger over the couch, the fabric of your own pencil skirt just hovering over your waist before gojo starts to sway his hips.

you had to stop yourself from being so noisy, executives were probably in the other room.

some kind of meeting perhaps occurring, yet here you were, happily entangled with your client. such thick inches he was dumping into you had nearly drooling. gojo’s base was rotund and fat, thwacking and thwacking against you to where you're so dizzy.

“f-fuck, ‘toru.. ‘s good.” you whined, every few seconds he’d smack your ass to watch your ass jiggle with such recoil. it was one of his favorite moments to witness. as your lips stuck together, your thighs already felt weak and tremulous.

“damn girl…didn't expect you to s-start throwin’ yourself back again me,” he sibilates, and for a concise moment his head goes back. a groan flies past his glossed pink lips as your ass continued to thrash against him. “you're such a needy girl. tryna…f-fuck me back..”

the way his voice unintentionally got low whenever he was in such a trance had you throbbing, such convulses making you nearly weak in the knees.

to you, the feeling was indescribable. such pools of heat ran between your legs the more his thrusts picked up.

his dick reached every spot, so much so being precise—you felt the curve of his length analyze all throughout your inner walls. it didn't miss a spot, he reached deep and you let off the cutest whimper. “god, r-right there. please, ‘toru. y-your curve, ‘s reaching me deep.”

“you f-flatter me,” he pants, trying to ignore his flusteredness. gojo’s right hand, the hand that had a half-cut open glitter glove that coordinated alongside his outfit ghosts against your ass. his lip quivers from his pace, and the way your pussy just sucks him dry, a few splotches of pre-cum cutely coated against the outer part of your ass. “fuck, dunno how much i can take with you movin’ your ass against me like that…shit, shit.”

“…s-satoru,” you breathed, biting down on your arm to suppress your moans a bit. not before long, he deepens the angle and you feel his sharped hips piston in utter contentment. “fuck, f-fuck. ‘s deep.”

gojo groans, swallowing the nonexistent lump in his throat before he feels himself coming close.

“think you’re gonna m-milk me dry,” he gasps, jerk after jerk his hips go against you at full throttle. the base of his dick, you hear the pap pap pap noises commence, and it’s so obscene. “shit, think ‘m in love,” and then you grow hot. it’s a long inelegant pause before he adds to his words, “…i-in love with your pussy.”

you were gonna comment something, but you were too fucked dumb to comprehend anything. you’re basically being fucked stupid into the cushioned sofa. the cottony bristles of the fabric went against your skin as your body lurched forward each time.

splaying at an almost animalistic pace, gojo’s ears, the very tips of them at least grow incredibly hot, you’re making his body heat up, scorching. the way your pussy tightly hugged around him like a vice, he was obsessed.

he just couldn’t get enough. to think this was the first time he’s been this intimate with you—oh, how he could only imagine what it’d be like for a second time, or a third time, or a…

“s-satoru, your phone’s ringing..”

he grunts, glancing down to see the bright-lit screen display, and this time it’s geto. with an eye roll, he ignores it, still gripping your hips, he’s attaining his peak before he lets off a husky groan. “f-fuck, ‘m gonna cum.. can i—?”

“y-yes, jus’ do it, ‘toru,” you spoke, not even letting him finish his sentence—you knew what he was gonna ask though if he could shoot inside. you were so drunk from his dick, thoughts on your mind were straight mush.

“okay, okay,” he breathes, and even his moans were pretty. figures, gojo was a soprano, so he was bound to sound angelic, even while moaning his head off. it had the perfect pitch to it, such rasp in it, almost breathy.

you feel gojo’s pelvic bone thrust a bit more at a quickened pace, accelerating just a bit more and his nerves were just going wild. “fuck, f-fuck..” he grunts, and he starts to grow a bit whiney, his sloppy hits against your rear made out to be a tad bit voluntary, rhythm a bit more expedite, and he clenched his jaw.

once gojo came, it's so much.

thick ropes that seeped right into you. you moan, and he pauses his hips just to watch, feeling himself pouring all inside. velvety ropes of the popstar’s cum fills you up to the brim. you're panting, he's panting, and gojo was in love.

was it love? he didn't know, but his pupils were dilated for sure.

his breath hitches once he slowly pulls out, watching his own cum slowly spill out between your folds and he lets off a moan. “made me fuck such a mess into you,” he spouts, running a thumb down your slit to watch you cutely jounce against his touch.

“you ruined my panties.” you whined, turning over to face him—gojo leans in for a kiss, and you return the favor, tasting yourself once more on his lips. the sweetened taste of your own slick that still remained all over his tongue.

“baby, it's not like you need them,” he rasps, grabbing ahold of you, and he positions you to get on his lap. “besides, i was gonna ask to keep them.”

“why?” you mumble, wrapping your arms around his neck, slipping off a moan at his already sensitive tip hovering against your entrance as you realigned yourself.

timidly, he runs a hand down his neck. “y’know. for uh…good luck? was gonna keep them in my pocket or something.”

“you're so—”

“shhh.” he hums, interrupting your words for another tender kiss. your tongue slides against his, and he tastes minty.

as his breath collides against yours, you playfully bite down on his lip. gojo grunts, and he’s making your way inside again. gingerly, you sink down against his thick base and he gives your ass a mean squeeze before spanking it once you start to move.

“oh f-fuck…fuck, forgot how sensitive-” he hiccups, watching with half-lidded eyes at your hips rotating against him in an orderly fashion. you moan from his pleasure, taking a second to swallow before whimpering—softly, you kiss against his neck and he grunts. “you-you make me feel so good, baby.”

gojo’s almost at a lost for words, he’s had his fair share of women, but none could make him feel like this.

besides, he's never had the time. touring day in and day out was a hassle, and intimacy was a straight no due to his overly busy schedule.

although, whilst the two of you were screwing around, making out and you're riding him cowgirl, that’s right when the wooden creaky door bursts open.

not to anyone’s surprise, it's no one other than gojo’s best friend and bassist, suguru geto.

“you've got to be joking,” he utters with crossed arms, immediately darting his eyes away. “everyone’s been calling you, there's a search party, and—”

geto pauses, tilting his head. “…is that my clothes you're wearing, satoru?”

“suguru…hey man,” gojo gasps, nervous laughter following his tone—you jump in surprise, and he wraps an arm around your waist. “i’m… kinda of busy here.”

“i don't give a fuck,” he grumbles. “by the way. your mic was on the entire time. you moan like a girl more than her.”

gojo’s eyes widen, reaching for the tiny button near the edge of his mic.

indeed, the switch was turned on and he awkwardly laughed, bringing the speaking part up to his lips.

“eheh…hey mic check?” and he could hear himself echo through the ear piece. embarrassing.

despite you still being inside, you just sat there—geto staring away, not even trying to comprehend what was happening before gojo coos out a subtle cheeky, “uh…i didn't know my mic was on. my bad.”

“you're so stupid...” you run a hand against your forehead in disbelief. an entire stadium practically heard the both of you.

the heels of geto turned before gojo brings a finger against your lips to shush, and he pouts. “sugu wait,”

“what.” he mutters, turning back around.

“wanna join…? don't think a few more minutes wouldn't hurt…r-right?”

“…….”

6K notes · View notes

joelsgreys · 3 months

Text

softness

Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader

summary: Joel’s a little unsure of doing skin to skin with his newborn daughter.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. JACKSON ERA. established relationship. (TW) PREGNANCY. mentions of premature birth, minor descriptions of childbirth, mentions of birth weight, it is implied that reader is breastfeeding her baby, semi accurate medical journal research, girldad! Joel, mentions of scars (Joel), mentions of insecurities and anxieties, if i missed anything, please let me know! NO MENTION OF READER’S AGE. NO PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION OF READER. no physical description of child except for her hair color/type. very minimal editing.

word count: 3.5k

a/n: i had this outline sitting in my drafts and i decided to finally just write it out and post it. it ain’t much, but it’s honest work. it is part of the safe and sound universe.

She’d made her entrance into the world early.

About four or five weeks, the commune’s doctor thinks.

Without ultrasounds, it’d been a guessing game.

And a fucking terrifying guessing game at that.

For several months, all you could do was hope.

Hope for a smooth pregnancy.

Hope for a safe labor and delivery.

Hope for a strong, healthy baby.

When you went into labor earlier than the doctor had predicted you would, all of your hopes shattered, the pieces falling around you like shards of broken glass you couldn’t put back together even if you tried.

“No! No, it’s too soon! It’s too fucking soon!” you’d cried out, the sheer panic setting in and seeping into your bones as a warm, clear liquid dripped down the insides of your legs and pooled around your bare feet. You had been in the kitchen making Ellie breakfast and packing her lunch for school—one second you’re standing there in front of the food pantry debating with yourself on what vegetable to throw into the kid’s lunch bag with her sandwich and the next you’re calling out for help as an intense pressure nestled itself between your hips. It wasn’t until you heard a faint popping sound and then felt the gush of fluid between your thighs that you’d realized what was happening. An unmistakable first sign of labor, you’d experienced your water breaking. “This can’t be happening, it’s not time yet!”

Joel, who by some stroke of sheer stupid luck had the morning off from patrol duty, instructed Ellie to run upstairs and gather some clean clothes along with a pair of boots and the warmest coat you owned that still fit. November had brought along the first snowfall of the season—the frigid temperatures outside were anything but kind and the clinic was on the opposite side of the commune, a fifteen minute walk he wished you didn’t have to make in your condition. “I know this is real fuckin’ scary darlin’ but y’need to stay calm. I need you to stay as calm as possible. Y’think that you can do that for me, sweetheart?”

He’d been just as terrified, but he masked it well.

On the outside, he kept a calm, collected composure for your sake and for Ellie’s too, shoved aside his own fears so he could be the support you both needed, act as the glue that held yours and his little family unit together should anything were to happen. But on the inside, he was scared shitless, to say the least. He couldn’t be certain he would have the strength to hold himself together if something went wrong, if he lost you—or his unborn child.

Admittedly, it had taken him a few months to come to terms with the fact that he was going to be a father again at this stage in his life. The thought of him changing diapers at his age was one he couldn’t quite wrap his mind around—but the moment he felt that first little flutter of movement one night as you lay curled up against his side fast asleep, something shifted. That night, he had stayed wide awake, his large hand splayed over your belly in hopes he would feel that little flutter again.

“Joel, I’m really fucking scared. What if it’s too early—”

“Baby, look at me.” He reached up and gently took your chin, holding it between his thumb and index finger as he coaxed your gaze to meet his own. “S’gonna be okay,” he’d assured you, softly. “If this is happenin’ now, it’s because she’s ready, alright?”

For a split second, that panic had ceased.

“She?”

Confused, Joel’s brow furrowed. “Huh?”

“You just referred to the baby as a she, Joel.”

“I did?”

“Yeah—just now.” You’d stared at him with curiosity and took a step back, cradling your belly in both of your hands. “Do you think we’re having a girl?”

Sheepishly, he had shaken his head at you.

“No, I just—m’sorry. I ain’t all too sure why I said that.”

He truly, honestly hadn’t.

It’d slipped before he could even think about it.

But his accidental slip had been right.

After thirteen hours of grueling labor in Jackson’s small clinic, you’d given birth to a little girl, the sound of her loud wailing filling the whole room like a sweet melody eliciting a sob of joy from you and a shaky sigh of relief from Joel.

“Holy shit, she’s here! She’s actually fucking here,” Ellie breathed, her eyes going wide. Her arms were still wrapped around one of your legs—despite you warning the teenager about what she would see, it hadn’t stopped her from volunteering her assistance in the childbirth process. She watched on in a mix of both fascination and disgust as Dr. Porter, a woman in her sixties who served as Jackson’s sole physician, lifted the infant and immediately placed her onto your bare chest to clean her off. “This has gotta be the grossest, most amazing fucking thing I have ever fucking seen in my life.” Gently, she set your leg down onto the bed before walking around it to stand beside Joel. His hand was stroking your hair, his dark eyes trained on his crying newborn daughter. It was the perfect moment for Ellie to run her mouth and tease, “You’re not gonna cry, are you, Joel? I’d think you’re a lot fucking tougher than that, old man.”

“Shut up,” he’d muttered under his breath, putting an arm around her and pulling her against his side. He almost couldn’t believe this was now his life—a life he would have never even known if he hadn’t flinched twenty years ago when he had pulled the trigger.

Though she’d been born a few weeks prematurely, Rosemary Miller was deemed to be healthy—a tad underweight, but nothing to be worried about just yet, according to Jackie, the commune’s nurse. At about four pounds, eleven ounces, Rosemary was the tiniest thing you’d ever seen and somehow even tinier when Joel would cradle her in the palms of his large hands. Despite the fact that you’d been reassured that the baby’s low birth weight was nothing to be alarmed about, you and Joel had been advised it was best if you didn’t take her home until she gained a few more ounces and tipped the a scale at what the books state is a normal birth weight of five pounds, eight ounces.

“We just would feel better if she were here at the clinic where we can closely monitor her weight,” Jackie had said upon seeing the crestfallen look on your face. “Besides, you tore a little and you need time to heal as well, you know.”

Left with very little choice, you’d agreed to it.

“I’m losing it,” you say with an exasperated sigh as you stare up at the drab, gray ceiling. It’s been three days since you had given birth and all you want to do is take your daughter home. In an effort to lift your spirits, Maria had tried to warm the place up and make it feel more comfortable for you. She had swapped out the rough, scratchy bedsheet the clinic provided for you with a soft, knitted blanket she had made herself. She also took it upon herself to pack you a bag with your own clothes, a couple of books to read, and your favorite polaroids of Joel and Ellie. While it had been incredibly sweet of her to do for you, you still wanted out of that clinic sooner rather than later. “I miss our house. I miss our bed. I miss our kid.”

Joel, who’s sitting in an old, worn leather armchair tucked over in a corner of your room next to the frosted window, raises an eyebrow at you and then juts his chin towards Rosemary, who is swaddled up and sleeping soundly in the plastic bassinet beside your bed.

“Our kid’s right there, darlin’.”

You lift your head off your pillow and glare at him.

“I’m talking about Ellie, Joel.”

He chuckles and leans forward in his chair. Next to him sits a brown stuffed bunny rabbit—Ellie had traded a precious comic book for it and gifted it to the baby the same afternoon she was born.

“She’s been comin’ to visit every day after school.”

“It’s not the same,” you pout, shaking your head.

Joel sighs and glances at the cot that he had been sleeping on for the last few days—truth be told, he misses the house too. His back certainly misses the bed. “It ain’t the same,” he agrees, tiredly. His face is worn with exhaustion. Despite you insisting that he go home and get some proper rest, he’s too stubborn to listen and only leaves the clinic to take a shower and change his clothes—and to check on Ellie, who’s got a bad habit of not doing her homework unless you or Joel nag her to get it done. “M’real sorry, darlin’. But you heard what they said. Baby’s gotta gain a little more weight before we can take her home.”

Even from where he’s sitting, he can see your eyes glaze over with tears of frustration. Since the baby was born, you’ve been very sensitive, more so than when you’d been pregnant—something he didn’t think was even possible.

“If she keeps on eatin’ the way she’s eatin’ we’ll be home by the end of the week,” Joel adds in an effort to cheer you up. “Besides, you need to heal before we make that long walk across town and back to the house, sweetheart. S’not like I can just pull up the fuckin’ minivan and drive you girls home like back in the day, y’know?”

You wrinkle your nose at him. “Ew, Joel. We would not have a fucking minivan.” Dabbing at your eyes with the back of your hand, you can’t help but laugh at the thought of Joel Miller behind the wheel of one of those things. Then, you realize how endearing it would be to watch as he’s loading up Rosemary’s car seat into the van, the muscles of his broad back flexing underneath his shirt as he pulled on the straps to make sure it was safe and secure. You’d climb into the backseat with her and on the way home, you would ask Joel to swing through the nearest burger joint drive through because you’re fucking starving and in need of a proper meal after being subjected to boring, bland hospital food. You shoot him a small smile. “On second thought, that doesn’t sound all that bad. Maybe we would.”

Suddenly, there’s a light knock at the door.

“Come in,” you call, careful not to be too loud.

Dr. Porter walks into the room.

She had been a primary care physician prior to the world ending, according to Maria, who a couple of months ago had given birth to her son while under Dr. Porter’s care. Maria had assured you that, even though the woman never trained in obstetrics, she always went above and beyond for all the mothers to be in the commune. She dedicated her spare time to studying, lost herself in medical books she found on the shelves of the town’s library—kind of like the one that’s currently tucked underneath her arm.

“Hi there mama,” she greets, her eyes shining brightly behind her coke-bottle glasses. Wearing jeans and a sweater, she doesn’t quite look the part—maybe she’d worn a white coat once in her life, but now it was only the old, silver metal stethoscope she had draped around her neck that gave her profession away. “How are you feeling this morning?”

“I’m okay,” you say with a shrug. “Can’t complain.”

Over in his corner, Joel can’t help but snort.

Ignoring him, you add, “Bleeding’s slowing down.”

“Good, that’s good,” Dr. Porter tells you. “And how about this sweet little girl?” She smiles and makes her way over to the bassinet, keeping her voice low. “She eating well?”

“She is. Her last feed was about two hours ago.”

“How’s she sleeping?”

“Like a rock.”

“And you’ve been doing skin to skin as well?”

You nod. “Yes, before and after her feedings.”

“That’s perfect.” Dr. Porter beams at you with pride. “Keep it up and do it as often as possible. There are a ton of benefits of doing skin to skin with her. It’s one of the most incredible things that a mother can do for her baby. Actually—” She pauses for a moment and pulls the book out from under her arm. “I have been doing a bit of research and as it turns out, there are also benefits if dad does skin to skin with baby as well.”

Joel stiffens slightly in his chair. “S’cuse me?”

“I found this book in the library. It talks about all of the benefits of fathers doing skin to skin with their newborn. It was written some time in the nineties and studies were still being conducted, but I really believe they were onto something.” She hands you the book. “For being preterm, Rosemary’s healthy, but it doesn’t do any harm to try whatever you can to make sure that she builds up that immune system and stays healthy, especially now that winter’s here.” Flashing you a smile, she informs you, “I went ahead and folded the pages for you and made some notes. There’s a few benefits in it for Joel as well. Could be worth a try.”

After telling you she’ll be back in a couple hours to check on you and to weigh the baby, Dr. Porter excuses herself from your room, quietly closing the door behind her.

Curiously, you open the book to the first page that she’d folded for you and start reading the first passage out loud.

“Ongoing studies have found skin to skin between father and child have similar benefits to those that come from skin to skin between mother and child. It regulates the baby's body temperature, blood sugar, and stress levels.” You pause and look over at Joel, who appears thoroughly unimpressed. “It also helps to regulate the baby’s heart rate and breathing rate. Joel, this is incredible! I think you should—”

“No.”

Joel winces. He doesn’t mean to sound so curt.

Your face falls. “Why not?”

“That’s for mothers,” he grumbles. “Y’know, for feedin’ the baby.”

“It’s for much more than just that.” You shake your head and flip over to the next page, scanning both the text as well as Dr. Porter’s notes. “It says here that it also helps the baby pick up their father’s natural scent and promotes bonding.”

“Sweetheart, I can bond with her just fine with my fuckin’ shirt on, there ain’t no need for me to—what in the world are you doin’?” Perturbed, Joel watches you as you take a handful of your blanket, throwing it off yourself. He jumps up to his feet the second he realizes that you’re about to get out of bed. “Don’t—”

“Oh relax, Joel. I should be moving more anyway,” you say, wincing as you sit up and swing both legs over the side of the bed. It isn’t so much pain as it is discomfort—everything had been shoved up and out of place for months, after all. As soon as you stand, Joel’s there at your side, one hand on your arm and the other on your back, trying to guide you back onto the bed. You lightly swat him away with your hand. “Joel, stop fussing over me! I’m fine!”

“Baby, y’need to lie down right now—”

“Take off your shirt.”

His hands fall away from you and his eyes widen.

“What?”

“Take off your shirt and go sit down in the chair.”

The blood drains from his face and he pales.

It’s not that Joel doesn’t want to do it. He does.

He’ll do anything if it’s for his daughter’s benefit.

Still.

The idea of laying his innocent little baby girl on him without his shirt on—it’s uncomfortable. His chest and stomach are littered with several scars. Rough, raised patches of skin that serve as reminders of a brutal past he doesn’t want her finding out about, not for as long as he can fucking help it.

Rosemary deserves to be wrapped up in softness.

The softness of your smooth, blemish free skin.

The softness of the blankets you’d knitted for her.

The softness of the stuffed bunny Ellie had given her.

Joel?

He isn’t soft.

Nothing about him is soft.

Even holding her in his hands for the first time had been something of a battle. Hands that once snapped necks and slit throats didn’t deserve to hold something so pure and innocent.

“This sounds really promising, Joel.” Slowly, you make your way over to the plastic bassinet, ignoring the dull ache between your thighs. With your back to him, you carefully begin to unswaddle the baby. You try not to wake her as you peel off her warm, knitted onesie and matching socks, leaving her in nothing but her teeny, tiny cloth diaper. Gingerly, you pick her up and turn around to face him. “If Dr. Porter thinks we should try it, then it’s for a good reason, don’t you think so?”

Joel swallows harshly.

“What is it?”

“S’just that I—I’ve got scars everywhere, y’know?”

Your expression instantly softens for him. “Joel, you’re her daddy,” you remind him, gently. “She’s not going to care about things like that.” Pausing, it suddenly occurs to you that it’s not just about his scars. It’s about something else, something that runs so much deeper for Joel. He’d done what he had done in order to survive, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t live with the shame—the guilt and the regret. Rosemary begins to fuss awake and you lightly bounce her in your arms as you assure him, “She isn’t going to care about your past or what you’ve done. Her love for you is going to be as unconditional as yours is for her. She’s going to love you no matter what, Joel. I can promise you that.”

His jaw clenches and his lips press into a tight line.

Rosemary starts to cry—she’s cold, no doubt.

The old heater in the clinic hardly runs.

And when it does, it breaks down.

“Joel, please,” you beg over her wails. “Just try it? For me? For her?”

Sighing in defeat, Joel shrugs out of his jacket and he tosses it aside. With trembling fingers, he begins to unbutton his green flannel shirt—his long sleeved thermal henley comes off next and then he takes off the cotton t-shirt he wears underneath for an added layer of warmth during the winter season. As he stands there shirtless, he shivers and his flesh erupts with goosebumps. “Wait,” he mutters as he watches you take a step forward. He drags the armchair away from the window. He then sits down, his heart racing and the anxiety flaring as he gives you a subtle nod of his head. “Okay.”

You walk over to him and place her on his bare chest.

The second he feels Rosie’s soft skin on his, there’s a shift.

It’s similar to the one he felt when he first felt her move in your belly.

He calms and his heart slows—his nerves dissipate.

And Rosemary stops crying.

She scrunches, curls up on his chest, and yawns.

Grimacing, you lean over and pick up his flannel shirt. “Here,” you say, draping it over them as a makeshift blanket. “How’s that feel?”

“Think she likes it, darlin’,” Joel murmurs, his fingers delicately brushing over her soft tufts of dark brown hair. His touch causes the newborn’s lip to curl and he catches a glimpse of the prominent dimple in her left cheek—the same dimple Sarah had inherited from him, Rosemary had inherited too. There’s a dull ache in his chest, but somehow, he still smiles as she peers up at him with sleepy eyes. “Hi, Rosie Posie. S’me, babygirl. Your daddy.”

Rolling your lip between your teeth, you stifle a giggle.

“What?” he asks, arching an eyebrow at you.

“She’s not the only one who seems to like it.”

Joel chuckles, admitting, “S’pretty relaxin’.” He presses his nose into his daughter’s curls and inhales deeply, relishing in the warm, sweet milky scent of her. After a minute, his smile falters slightly. “Baby?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you really believe it?”

Your brow furrows. “Believe what?”

“That she’s gonna love me no matter what.”

“Of course I do.”

“How can you be so sure ‘bout it?”

Carefully, you perch yourself on the arm of the chair and press a gentle kiss against his right temple, your lips brushing over his scar. “Because I just am, Joel.”

Somehow, he believes it—he believes you.

Joel tilts his head back, puckering his lips.

Grinning, you give him a chaste kiss before standing. “I’m going to see if I can get a nap in before her next feed,” you tell him, padding back over to the bed. “Do you think you’ll be okay with her for a while, just the two of you?”

“I think we’ll be just fine,” he murmurs, gingerly stroking Rosemary’s silky cheek with his finger. “Yeah. We’ll be just fine, won’t we, babygirl?”

divider credit to @saradika-graphics 🤎

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fluff #joel miller x pregnant reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller drabble #joel miller one shot #joel miller fic #the last of us fanfiction #tw pregnancy #tw childbirth #tw premature birth

2K notes · View notes

ssahotchnerr · 6 months

Note

ALSO ALSO ALSO, Aaron keeping a pair of readers fuzzy socks in his go-bag for reader when a case is rough/they’re in a super cold area/just because 🤭🤭🤭

perfect pair

SCREAMING i'm setting this in the alaska episode it's the first thing my mind went to <33 cw; bau!reader, established relationship, fluff!!!!!

even with the burning fire going, countless chills continuously rushed through your body; you were shaking in place.

upon receiving word the case was in alaska, the customary temperature had been an afterthought. sure, you had packed (some of) your winter trappings; long sleeves, a heavy lined coat, boots. but you hadn't thought to layer, pack a set of gloves or a hat, wool socks rather than your usual cotton ones. rather, the excitement of purely being able to say you're going to alaska, of all places, had taken priority.

even today as you were getting dressed, you managed to talk aaron into lending you one of his favored quarter-zips. 'talk into' was a loose term, he hadn't needed the persuasion; you asked, he immediately accepted - never the one to deny you wearing his clothing, or the extra, provided warmth.

on the bright side, however, you had been hunkered down at the inn with penelope, researching the residents of the small town and not needing to brace the cold. but you might as well been, the heat coming through the air vents wasn't nearly enough, especially when the door frequently opened and the cold air drifted in. the fire was slowly weakening, and just thinking about the cold, made you freezing. the lingering frigidness was numbing your feet within your shoes, your fingers were just as biting - the bitterness was painful.

you were counting down the minutes until the day ended, eager to be warm in the comfort of bed, curled up with aaron 'the furnace' hotchner - the best perk of minimal rooms available and having to double-up. the two of you didn't typically share quarters while on the job, wanting to uphold professionalism, so this was a welcomed treat.

but when aaron had entered (and brought yet another rush of crisp air with him) to regroup with you and penelope, to discuss findings that would contribute to the profile, and hopefully narrow your search down, all he had to do was take one look of you shivering.

aaron walked behind the couch you were seated at, his hand finding your shoulder and giving it a squeeze hello, before heading up the stairs. at the gesture, you were quick to look up and acknowledge him, giving him a soft smile before your attention returned to penelope's screen.

aaron came back down a minute or two later, lightly tossing something onto your lap. it landed softly, but you still jumped a smidge, taking you by surprise.

you were met with your polka-dot fuzzy socks, a pair you hadn't seen in your drawer quite in a while, actually. your eyebrows furrowed in perplexity, grabbing the soft sherpa material and turning the pair over, analyzing as if you've never seen them before.

"you had these?" your eyes shot back up to aaron, arching an eyebrow in an accusatory, but playful, manner. the ends of your lips tugged upwards in a smile, your heart warming.

"given the circumstances, i'm sure you're glad i did." aaron's face matched your cheeky expression, a light smirk on his face. but he dropped the teasing demeanor, his gentleness returning, "i packed them into my go-bag a while ago. i figured they come in handy in one way or another, at some point. for comfort, warmth, when your ice cold feet touch my leg at night." his eyes smiled at you, and you couldn't help but grin.

aaron's immense, loving look was enough to melt everything in you, physically warming you. the sensation started in the middle of your chest, fanning out to the rest of your body, leaving you toasty and almost giddy.

forget the socks, layers, fireplace - all you needed was aaron.

"god that's adorable." penelope chimed in, who had been listening so quietly you'd forgotten she was there, a slight whine present in her voice, "never thought i'd be crying over a pair of socks, but here we are."

she turned back to her laptop, but her fingers paused above the keyboard, as thought came to her. her gaze drifted back towards you and aaron, a tickled glint in her eyes. "wait, i take that back. you two are the most, adorable pair."

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds drabble #aaron hotchner drabble #criminal minds fanfiction #hotch imagine #criminal minds x you #criminal minds imagine

1K notes · View notes

bunnys-kisses · 3 months

Text

closeness above all else - astarion ancunin

pairing: astarion ancunin x fem!reader rating: 18+ summary: Astarion was obsessed with you. There was something about you that he found so appealing. Maybe it was your leadership or your ability to fight? Maybe it was your ability to maintain the group. You were a lovely woman to be around and Astarion found it so appealing. Maybe that was why when you were speaking to the innkeeper and smiled up at the man, Astarion felt a surge of jealousy. tags: pwp, breeding kink, darker themes, possessive behaviour, alcohol & drunkenness, unprotected sex, smut, pregnancy kink, wife kink, he just loves you so much, 3.4k words a/n: i did minimal research if astarion could even get someone pregnant, but don't think about it too hard, okay?

join my discord

Astarion was obsessed with you. There was something about you that he found so appealing. Maybe it was your leadership or your ability to fight? Maybe it was your ability to maintain the group. You were a lovely woman to be around and Astarion found it so appealing. Maybe that was why when you were speaking to the innkeeper and smiled up at the man, Astarion felt a surge of jealousy.

The vampire always wondered if he could sire children, while the logistics weren’t clear he enjoyed the fantasy. The idea of their fearless leader having a piece of him always with her. As if it wouldn't be your shadow, to make sure that you were always safe. And once you got too swollen with a child, then you two could settle down somewhere.

The thought made him aroused, but the rush was cut short when he saw you talking to the innkeeper. It made something else flood the man’ system, a spike in jealousy as he watched. And when you leaned over and nudged the man’s shoulder, the vampire saw red. He knew he’d have to act on his desires soon, he was growing weak without his feast of blood and your sweet body. Maybe it was time to leave his little surprise as well.

He came up beside you and grabbed the key from the innkeeper, “Shouldn’t you be tending to other guests, not bothering our dear leader?”

The innkeeper’s eyebrows knitted together. He looked around and saw no one else except for the pair in front of him. He gave your partner a strange look as Astarion turned away with you with keys in hand. The vampire gave one last look to the innkeeper almost like a threat to not come near you. His hand was on your lower back, his fingertips were threatening to sneak under the bottom of your shirt.

There was no one who would get in his way. You were HIS. He’d make sure no one bothered you once he got you pregnant. You’d make such a wonderful mother to his child or maybe even children if he was lucky. A little human wife all to himself. The thought excited him. As you both walked to rejoin the group, he leaned over and kissed the top of your head lovingly.

Tonight was going to be an interesting night.

But that first meant having dinner and you had your fill. The alcohol brought red to your cheeks as you went for another glass which made Astarion take you by the wrists and sit you back down beside him. He said quietly, “Now, now. You know alcohol makes your blood taste sour.”

You were a mess of giggles and tried to get out of his gasp. But he just brushed his nose further up against your neck and he smiled to himself. He ended up with a bun to the face from a fellow party member to stop practically having sex with you at the tavern. The action made you laugh harder and cuddle yourself up in his arms.

“Don’t be meeeeeean.” You said, “He’s trying to be nice. You know how rarely that happens!” You then dissolved into another mess of giggles.

He chuckled and had another sip. His hand was on your back as he held you close, “Next time we have to make sure she doesn’t get into the wine. She’s as red as a strawberry. Isn’t that right, darling?”

You peeked up at him and nodded. You held onto the front of his shirt. You looked so innocent. It made him smile more. He could feel tightness in his pants. He reached over and fed you a small piece of the meal you were all sharing, “I don’t need you to get sick on me now.” You nodded once more.

Astarion smiled, this was going to be easier than expected.

He took you back to the room you were sharing. It only made sense that you two would share, at some points you were practically attached at the hip. Plus if someone else slept in the room with you, Astarion would never shut up about it. Even though he didn’t need sleep the way most species did, he wanted to make sure his darling slept soundly.

You stumbled over yourself in the short walk back to the inn. He helped steady you and encouraged you to keep going with kisses. You giggled at jokes you made up in your head and tried not to lose your breath from laughing so hard.

“Darling.” He said as he attempted to keep himself composed, “Do you want me to carry you?”

“Nah!” You giggled, “I can get by on my own two feet.” And as soon as you said that you tripped over a rock on the cobblestone road and fell over. With his quick thinking, he grabbed you to prevent a face plant.

He sighed and picked you up bridal style. He looked in your eyes, “You need to watch where you’re going. I can’t have our fearless leader getting hurt because of a rock.”

You laughed, “Why are you being so nice, Astarion? Did you get swapped with someone else and didn’t tell anyone?”

He smiled and kissed your cheek, “No, no, I’m all me. I’m worried about my love, there was a lot of wine that you had. I worry someone would try to hurt you. There are many cruel men who would take advantage of you.”

You beamed at him, “You just want a taste, huh?”

“Would you allow me?” He asked softly.

“I mean, the bruises have healed on my neck. I wouldn’t mind having new ones.” You smiled and kissed him, not the cheek. You felt light headed and dizzy, you were thoroughly drunk. But you believed that your loving partner would take care of you.

“Good girl.” He whispered and smiled when you burst into giggles again. He felt warm in a way, a rush of anticipated pleasure through his body as he got the door to your room open. He stepped inside and let the light of the town shine through. He lit the lights in the room and got you undressed.

“It’s embarrassing when you see me naked.” You admitted as you covered your face.

He pulled his hands away from your face and gazed down at you. He smiled and you saw the glint of his fangs. “There’s no need to hide, my love. You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. I’m drawn to you like a moth to a flame. And I want you to burn me alive.” He leaned forward and grazed his fangs against your neck.

His hands made their way through every button, snap and strap on your body. He left you in nothing but the undergarments you wore. His hands were placed back on your hips as he sank his fangs into your neck. You moaned and gripped onto his shoulders. Your nails dug into the meat of them as he happily drank from his beloved.

The blood was a little sour from all the alcohol but he’d never say no to having his teeth on you. He knew it would leave an ugly mark in the morning. But that way fine, he’d say it added to your charm. He then held your chin so you didn’t move your head while he fed. He groaned against your skin, his cock twitched in his pants.

Eventually he pulled away when he decided to not drain you dry. He licked the wound to ensure that it would stop bleeding. He moved further away and looked over on you, with red painting his mouth and chin. Your chest was rising and falling rapidly. Your legs were practically wrapped around his waist. He was still dressed while you were almost nude.

He wiped his mouth on his wrist and gazed at you with those stunning red eyes. He smiled down at you and rubbed his clothed cock up and against you, “I can feel how aroused you are.”

“Astarion.” You moaned.

“I know my darling, I know how you feel about me. I see it every day. You look at me like I raise the sun every morning. Despite all that tough exterior, you need someone to protect you. And I’ve found that I’d be willing to do anything to keep such a precious gift safe.” By any means, he thought.

You laid there in the mess of pillows and blankets. You got your undergarments off to show off your curves to your loving partner. You felt his heated gaze on your body. You rubbed yourself up against him and he chuckled.

“You are the most beautiful creature I have ever seen. All this time on this earth and yet you are the most beautiful thing I’ve laid my eyes on.” He started to get undressed. He felt your drunk gaze on his body. Usually he’d do it slowly to show off. But he had a mission in mind.

Your figure was missing something. Not a sword or armor, but rather something softer. A nice slope to your belly with the promise of new life. He brushed a hand down your front and gave extra attention to your abdomen. You didn’t notice his intentions as the touch made you giggle. There still was a drunken throb in your head. It also didn’t help that your pulse was racing.

Astarion’s gaze remained on you as he got undressed. Soon he was bare as you were. His hands were on your breasts, his mouth was on your right nipple. His fangs carefully grazed the nub. You almost kicked out your legs from the sensation of it all. You yelped and felt a shiver down your spine.

However, he kept you pinned to the soft bed you shared. He was going to make sure you felt good, he read somewhere that if you made a woman orgasm multiple times she was more likely to get pregnant. And Astarion had to take all the advice he could get. His bare cock brushed up against your sweet pussy which made him shiver. Over a century on this earth and there was no feeling like his cock inside of you.

He massages your breasts further, it was almost a little painful. He moved to the other nipple and you moaned loudly into the night air. Your heart raced as you felt yourself drown in the pleasure of it all. You felt more sensitive with all the alcohol in your system. You seemed louder as well with the more he touched you. He rubbed hi cock up against your pussy, he knew you were getting hotter from the sensation of it all. He groaned against your chest as he continued to play with you.

“Astarion.”

“Good girl.”

He thought you were divine. He thought there was no one else quite like you. He moaned into your skin as he nipped at it. He left small bruises around your chest which only made you moan louder. He stimulated you further as he felt you try to fight against him. He knew he was making you feel good.

It wasn’t long before you felt the pleasurable tension become overwhelming. You held onto him tightly as he made you feel good from touching on your breasts. He knew exactly how to drive you crazy. You arched your back as much as you could with him on top of you and climaxed. A sharp moan left your lips and then your hips dropped back down on the bed with a ‘thud’.

Astarion thought he was going to finish as well from the sight of your pleasure. You were going to be such a sweet wife for him, and he couldn’t wait to drag every orgasm out of your sweet body. He kissed your skin and mumbled, “I can’t wait to get you pregnant, Make you my wife.” But his voice was so quiet that you couldn’t hear him.

You relaxed against the bed and basked in the feeling of his hands all over you. When he touched your sex it felt like lightning through your body. It was an overstimulation but you loved the feeling. Your face felt hot, and your head was swimming.

“Beautiful girl.” He praised me.

You rubbed your thighs together and he thought you were perfect. But even perfection could be improved on. He brushed you in the middle again, he wondered how the child would take after. He hoped they looked like you, except with their father’s fangs.It wouldn’t be easy to carry a vampire child, but he believed in you. You’d care for the being as well as being a wife for him.

It was a sick part of him, to trick you into becoming his bride. But he couldn’t contain himself. He moved back to being on top of you, he moved your legs to be around his waist. He brushed his cock up against your sweet pussy. You moaned and held onto the pillows under your head.

“So beautiful.” He said. “Astarion.”

Even the way you said his name was appealing. It sang to him like a siren song. It only made him want you more. His sick desire to keep you as his until the end of both your days. To be a wife and mother, to leave behind the age of adventure. To become domestic with him. To get away from the madness. It excited him and made his large cock twitch. He groaned as he continued to fondle you as you tighten your legs around his waist.

Soon he had enough of the foreplay and groaned through grit teeth as he pushed his cock into you. You tensed and he groaned louder, he held onto the bed under you and moved all the way inside of you. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and held him tightly as he started to thrust. You moaned into his skin as he moved against you.

Your body felt numb but in a pleasurable way. You could only lie there and accept all the pleasure that he was giving you. He kissed your soft face, he could feel your racing heartbeat under your skin. His face went back to your neck where he left more bruises on the flesh. He felt heat through his body as the pleasure coursed through his veins. It was arousing, he couldn’t deny what he was feeling.

“Good girl.”

“Astarion, please. It feels so good.”

“That’s what I like to hear. That you’re feeling so good for me. I like making you feel good, my darling. Keep it up, beloved.” He purred as he picked up the pace. His hands laid back on your hips as he got at the right angle that made you tense up with every heavy thrust.

The future with you looked bright. A nice home far away from anyone else, some privacy for the both of you and the growing family. The sight of your pregnant form aroused him, to know that you laid with him. That no other man could do what he did. You’d be his forever. And he promised in return to worship you.

He wanted to fuck you with your swollen belly. Worship it as he thrusted into you. The thought of that possibly happening made his stomach flip. He gripped onto the covers tighter and continued to thrust into his beloved. You made a beautiful ‘o’ with your lips as he hit all your sweet spots. The buzz in his body made his head spin. He groaned into your skin before he pulled away and gazed down at you.

“Beautiful. So, beautiful. Gods, you are perfect.” He growled as he sank his teeth into your neck again. He lapped at more blood which only made you more light headed. You clung onto him and he happily feasted as he fucked you.

He knew what was best for you, you’d be happier being protected by him. To have a family with him. It was what would make you happy. You needed to TRUST, Astarion. He grunted against your neck as he finished his feast. His cock twitched inside of you. The sounds of sex filled the room and the old bed creaked against the wall.

Your neck and chest were covered in his bites, in his love. And soon your insides would be covered in a different kind of love. He panted wildly as he pulled away and looked down at you. You with the faint lights of the room, he knew your face was flushed from all the commotion.

“Astarion.” You said.

“I know. I know. You feel so tight. You are a dream to me, my darling. I’ve waited for this for a long time. To feel your body against mine. You’ve made me an addict to your body, I only want more and more of it as time goes on. You wouldn’t deny me your sweet love, right?”

“No, no.’ You panted as you felt the pleasure surge in your body once more. You dug your nails into his shoulders as you laid there in a swirl of your own pleasure. You felt the pressure again in your gut and your body started to go stiff. You groaned wildly into the night air then buried your face into his neck. You felt his skin against yours.

He held onto you tightly and pushed as deep as he could inside of you. It was messy, both of you were running hot with blood on his face. You both felt intoxicated for different reasons. He started to kiss you, you felt your blood in your mouth as he passionately made out with you. His fangs grazed your bottom lip, not enough to make them bleed but enough to turn you on.

You looked disheveled with blood smeared on your lips, bites on your neck and a heat that radiated from your body. You held onto him and continued to kiss him. You clenched onto him and moaned into his mouth. The feeling erotic and you couldn’t keep it together for much longer. Your pussy tightened around his cock as he thrusted into you as fast as he could.

He pulled away from the kiss and gazed at you. He felt on the tip of orgasm. With another hard thrust, he shoved his cock as far as it would go and then he finished inside of you. At that moment you finished as well.

You laid limp on the bed as he finished inside of you. He shiver ran through his body, this could be it. He slowed down his pace until it was a full stop and held your face in his hands. You were out of your mind from all the intense factors. He smiled down at you. He kissed you once more.

“Beautiful.” Then he pulled away and held onto your thighs before he thrusted his cock inside of you until he got erect again. He smiled, there was no harm in doing it again. He had to take extra measures to make sure that it all took. A drop would not spill.

“Darling. I see he’s gotten bigger since the last time I measured you.” He smiled up at you as he pulled the measuring tape away from your swollen middle.

You placed your hand on your lower back and rubbed it, “I don’t know how he could get any bigger.” You had given up on adventuring months ago, living off your treasure out in the wilderness.

He got up to his feet and rubbed your swollen belly. He smiled down at you. He’d never have to worry about you being unsafe ever again. You’d be safe here in the home you two lived in. And soon you’d have an addition to your little family. You rubbed the mound too and he leaned in for a soft kiss.

“I was wondering.”

“Yes, my love.”

“Could you… Maybe, do what you did the other night to me? On my side.”

He smiled and placed the measuring tape down, “Of course, but let’s get you comfy in bed.” He placed a hand on your lower back. Things were different now, away from all the madness lived a former adventurer and her rouge husband. And soon their many children.

#bunny writes #bg3 astarion #bg3 #baldurs gate #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion x you #astarion ancunin #astarion smut #pregnant reader #fem!reader #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate astarion #fan fiction #reader insert #pregnancy

472 notes · View notes

nastyaromatherapy · 7 months

Note

can we get dark ethan where he takes reader’s virginity through non con? sorry if this request is too dark only if you’re comfortable with it 💜

Unwanted encounter (18+)

Ethan your econ partner, loves the idea of taking your virginity.

pairing - ghostface!ethan landry x cheerleader!fem!reader

one shot length, 2.2k+ word fic

warnings: non con, first time, minimal knife play, hair pulling, creampie, reader is smart w an airhead personality, pervy ethan

read more cut isn't working so sorry for that 🌚

Your professor partnered up you and Ethan for an Econ project. Ethan at first, was not at all thrilled. You were popular, didn't care much about grades, and had the douchiest boyfriend.

He on the other hand, actually wanted that A, and didn't have many friends outside of the core four. He wasn't that close with them either. You wanted that A too, he just wasn't aware of that. He already created a version of you that was untrue in his mind.

But when the day finally came, and he was over at your house, he realized how wrong he was about you. He realized that you were actually really smart, nice, and funny. You actually had a personality.

He asked to see all of the research you've conducted, and you showed him pages of notes. "You're smarter than you look y/n," he teased. You rolled your eyes at him. "What's that supposed to mean?" You asked, taking offense. "I mean you look like the average cheerleader that's fucked more then half of the football team."

You gawk at him and his incel driven ignorance. "I haven't even fucked my boyfriend on that team," you corrected, annoyed. "I'm a fucking virgin- you know nothing about me." He went silent not knowing what to say, but the thought of you never being taken like that before made him throb in his jeans.

"Fuck I'm sorry, it was just a joke." He apologized, voice getting quieter the more he spoke. "Joke," you repeated, clicking your tongue. "Just get the fuck out of my house, my boyfriend 'll be back soon. He's not going to be too happy with you here. He doesn't like dogs on the bed," you snark, pointing to the door.

He looks at the ground and apologizes under his breath again before leaving the room.

Your boyfriend didn't come home. He texted you, "Gonna be out a little later than usual, emergency with the guys." You believed him, Ethan knew he was out fucking some girl. Guys like him can't live with abstinence.

Ethan sat at home, jerking off to videos of you on the sidelines in football highlights. He groaned whenever your skirt lifted up when you jumped, exposing some of your dark navy panties.

He had to know how it felt to be inside you. How tight you would be, never been stretched before. He imagined your moans, begging to be slow your first time, loving the way he impaled your cunt.

He pumped himself faster, getting closer to the edge, imagining his hands were your soft, delicate ones. Then his mind wandered to other places, how would your lips feel, wrapped around his tip? He came just at the thought, shooting ropes onto his grey sweats.

He just had to feel you, he had too. So, he put on his black robe and mask, the one he planned to use to execute Sam, Tara, and the rest of their friend group with. But today, he had other plans.

He creeped to your rich boyfriend's house, seeing you in bed reading a book in the window. You were listening to god knows what with your airpods, bopping your head to the music while highlighting pages of the book. He gave your phone a ring, and he watched you doubled tap the earbud to answer. "Hello?" You asked with that sweet voice of yours he relished in. "Hello y/n," he asked using the voice changer. "Hi!" You respond bubbly and obliviously.

"Watcha listening to?" He asked huskily. "Ariana Grande," you giggled out. "Who's this?" You ask the mystery caller. "Oh only your biggest fan," he replied, voice smooth. "I look forward to seeing you every game, you're my favorite." You blush at his creepy compliment, continuing to annotate the quotes in the book. "Thank you, I work hard. But seriously.. who are you?" You repeat.

He chuckles to himself, "What? You want to see me? Want me to show myself?" You shake your head giggling, unaware of the danger coming your way. "No, I just need your name." You said.

"Need," he repeated. "Y'know what I need at a time like this? A warm cunt I can stretch out," he groaned. Bewildered, you check your phone to see who called, no caller ID. "Uh, what?" You awkwardly chuckled, growing uncomfortable.

"You're a virgin, right y/n?" He asked. You nodded, unaware you were being watched, but you did it subconsciously anyways. "You ever thought about it? Getting fucked by a cock?" He asked through the phone. "Of course I have. But it's never been the right time, y'know? I want my first time to be special."

As you spoke Ethan snuck his way into the house, making his way towards the room where you basked. "Trust me," he spoke, breath heavy. "It will be," he finished, stepping his way into your doorframe.

You screamed out, scared, shaking uncontrollably. "Oh my god! Get the fuck out I swear to god, my boyfriend will be back soon, and he will not be happy with you." He tilted his head, knife in hand. "And you think he's happy with you?" He asked, plunging onto the bed, mounting the top of you, struggling to hold you down. He started to graze the blade of the knife against your jaw. "Every weekend," he drags out, still using a voice changer through the mask. "He goes missing. He goes to the sorority house and knocks up a couple of sisters."

You tear at the news, not wanting to believe it. "You're lying!" You spit, trying to escape his grasp to no use. "No, doll. I am telling nothing but the truth." You reach up to try to pull the mask off to no use, he pinned your arms down onto the bed. He sighs and gets up off of you, pointing the knife at you so you stay put.

He places a camera on the dresser, facing the bed. "What'd you say we get back at him, hm? We make him a little movie, and he see's how good I fuck you?" He said, climbing back onto the bed. You cry, "Please no." You shake your head with tears streaming down your red cheeks. "Please fucking yes," he mocks, reaching up your nightie.

You gasp when his gloved hands grasp your body, making their way up to your breasts making you whimper. "Your boyfriend ever touch you like this?" He asks. You shake your head a no in response, sniffling a little.

His hands moved down to your delicate lacy panties, slipping them off swiftly. You gasp as the cold hair hits your pussy. He takes the gloves off of his hands and tossed them onto the floor before toying with your folds. You weren't soaking but you were getting there, wetness dripping out of your pussy.

He attempted to slip a finger inside but you were so goddamn tight. You whined having nothing ever been in there before, not even a tampon. He finally got one in and you moaned out, kicking your foot a little. "Easy," he whispered, trying to make room for another finger. You were much wetter on the inside then out. "Please, if you want to live just s-stop. My boyfriend will actually kill y-" You were cut off by your own moan when he slips in his second finger.

You moaned at his big fingers, extremely sensitive. "No, stop- Ethan," you moaned out. His face shot up when you said his name. You noticed his reaction. "You don't even have to hide it," you said breathily, chest heaving. "I've never told anyone I'm a virgin." With that he slips the mask off, revealing his cute but devilish face and sweaty curls. He bit his lip and curled his fingers deeper inside you making you screech.

You shook your head a no as you felt yourself grow close, but your body was going against your protests, molding itself against his touch. "Ethan please s-stop," you pleaded as your thighs started to clench. Your hips completely contradicted your words, bucking into his fingers before letting out a final scream and secreting fluids onto his fingers and your sheets. He inhales before leaning down and sucking your clit, extending your high.

You huff and puff, chest rising and falling. Ethan pops off of your clit and goes for your lips, kissing you. You don't kiss back, trying to retract your lips as much as possible. You couldn't deny he was a good kisser, but he broke into your house and fingered you against your will, and made you orgasm.

"Come on, baby," he grunts into the kiss. "You can't deny I'm the best you've ever had." You shake your head when he finally pulls away. "You're the only I've ever had! Please Ethan, I love my boyfriend, I don't want this." You cry, but he keeps groping you through your dress anyways, making you throb again. "Well maybe I don't care what you want. I care what your cunt does." He says, kissing at your neck as he continues to toy with your heavy, cloth covered tits.

Your nipples grew perky and you moaned as he sucked on that sweet spot on your neck. He left a mark on your neck and pulled away, then he started to pull down his pants. After that he took off the whole costume, leaving him naked on your bed. "You look so sexy in that dress, but you're going to have to take it off." You shook your head a no. "No?" He mocks. He picked up his knife from the side. "Guess I'll have to cut it off." Your eyes grow wide, not wanting to ruin the expensive gift from your boyfriend. "No!" You yell, stopping his actions. "I'll take it off," you say weakly, pulling it over your head.

"Good girl," he cooed. "God you're beautiful." He groans, pumping himself in his hand, eyeing your pretty, dainty tits. "Come on, try it," he urged, guiding your hand to his length. You wrapped around him perfectly, hand more gentle than his own. He groaned as you jerked him, feeling disgusted with yourself. On your boyfriends bed, giving your econ partner a handjob.

He groaned and grew more desperate, needing to be inside of you more than anything. He removed your hand from him. "Turn around," he spoke, motioning you to face the headboard. You choked on tears, complying worriedly. He pushes your face into your pillow and guides your ass up. He grabs the knife and grazes it along your back, making your spine shiver.

"Ethan please, we can forget about this, I swear." You beg, but it doesn't stop him. Ethan teases your opening with his tip making your mouth agape. You involuntarily start to push back against him, scooting your ass back to meet his cock. "Slut," he remarks, slapping your ass cheek leaving it a bright red.

He grips your ass with his hands, making you suck in air a little, before he pushes in a little more than the tip. You groan at the stretch, face contorting uncomfortably. He let you adjust a little, only using the tip for a solid minute. "Ethan please stop, it hurts s'much," you whined. "Hurts? I'm not even halfway," he chuckled out, continuing to fuck you with his thick, pink tip. You cried, stomach bubbling up from the stimulation.

Your wetness seeped onto his cock, making it easier for him to ease his way all the way in, slamming his hips against your ass making you bite your pillow, screaming into it. "That's it," he whispered, slowly thrusting in and out of you. You moaned into the pillow, arching your back.

He grunted and started to get rougher, slamming his hips against yours, every thrust making the bed frame hit the wall. He gripped your hair and pulled your head out of the pillow, your face covered with tears. You moaned, gripping the sheets behind you while taking him from the back. You felt yourself getting close again, stomach tightening as you felt the sensation of having to piss. He felt you clench around his length and whispered in your ear, "Cum on my fucking cock, slut."

In response to his words you screamed out as you came around his cock, leaving a creamy ring around his base. He let go of your hair, letting you collapse back onto the bed. He continued to hold your ass up, continuing to hit it roughly, groaning at every one of your throbs. You started to salivate a little against the pillow due to your excessive whines.

He wiped the sweat off of his forehead while panting, getting close. His thrusts through sloppy and less uniformed. "Gonna breed this pussy, and you're gonna wish I was in you every second of every fucking day," he spat out, huffing and not being able to hold back any longer. With a final thrust, he came deep in your cunt, shooting spurt after spurt inside you. After he pulled out, his cum dripped out of you followed by the sound of flatulence.

You laid there and didn't even realize how much time has passed. Ethan disappeared through your window that was now open with his camera with everything documented. Through the window, you saw lights of a car, and soon your boyfriend stumbled in, eyeing your cum dripping cunt.

1K notes · View notes

five-thousand-loaves-of-bread · 9 months

Text

Just as psychology research had its WEIRD (“western, educated, industrialized, rich and democratic”) sampling bias, autism research has not only a WEIRD sampling bias, but also has essentially oversampled the same, narrow band of what are considered the easily “researchable autistics,” and expected those findings (as well as the applications and interventions that resulted from them) to apply to everyone.

But the spectrum is far more diverse and heterogeneous than we realize. Sure enough, even as I review past autism research as part of my studies, I look at the autistic participant profiles and the truth is that a majority don’t represent autistics like me. Autism research participant selection is filled with implicit and explicit exclusionary criteria, such as IQ cut-offs, ability to be able to sit still, to perform tasks and engage, to respond orally and not have co-occurring or complex conditions. But why should IQ be an exclusionary criterion when it is mutable and has been historically problematic for marginalized groups? I have to then wonder how findings from studies with so many exclusionary criteria would benefit autistics like me.

Research participant selection bias is especially problematic in a disability like autism because the primary goal of research is to provide explanations. Studies also influence policy priorities, interventions, treatments, who gets access to funding, access to spaces, and even societal attitudes. Most importantly, research leads us to applications and solutions. If we are left out of research, we are left out of the solutions as well.

author hari srinivasan is minimally speaking autistic with high support needs and oral-motor apraxia, whose autism & disability very visible. he went to undergrad at UC berkeley & now doing PhD in neuroscience at vanderbilt university.

#actually autistic #actuallyautistic #autism #autistic #nonspeaking #minimally speaking #loaf screm

732 notes · View notes

youryurigoddess · 6 months

Text

Have you noticed how Crowley’s main objective this season is basically running to the rescue and saving others? First and foremost Aziraphale, obviously, but also Jim — both from the official manhunt and from himself, like in the window jump scene — and multiple humans.

Crowley started off as an angel willing to question the highest — and only — authority in order to save not only his newest creations, but the whole vast, beautiful universe from the unjustified and untimely destruction.

Crowley was the one who stopped Sitis from cursing God — even when her own husband and a literal flock of angels stood in silence. Not to mention saving the kids of two species from a Heaven-sanctioned death sentence.

Crowley was the one who self-sacrificed in order to drive away Elspeth from suicide and make sure that she’ll be taken care of for the rest of her life, effectively minimizing her struggles.

Crowley was the one who saved Nina and Maggie from the demons appearing on Whickber Street at dusk and directed them to follow the light of their bookshop, a safe harbor by design and by choice.

Crowley was the one who also made up a nonexistent rule to safely evacuate almost all of the humans out of what started as a monthly Whickber Street Shopkeepers and Street Traders Association meeting and ended up as a literal war zone.

Literally in every episode of S2 Crowley is showing a consistent pattern that‘s not only painfully in-character for him, but also more than common among human trauma survivors and those struggling with mental health issues.

According to research, doing nice things for people and focusing on the needs of others may actually help those with depression and anxiety feel better about themselves. They’re basically offering others the same kind of help they need or needed in the past.

By saving all of those people, Crowley is not only extremely kind as the angel he used to be, but also subconsciously processing his past mistakes and traumas. He becomes a protector of the oppressed and guardian of the weak, taking under his wings those he deeply identifies with.

The fallen angel who asked too many questions, who hanged with the wrong crowd, who got rejected by his peers, who cursed God, who went through what seems like panic attacks, depressive episodes, and contemplated suicide by Holy Water, who understands love… became a patron saint.

Like Saint Anthony is a patron of lost things, Anthony J. Crowley is a patron of the seemingly lost cases. But remember that this level of heroic sanctity in life can also lead to martyrdom or heresy later on — a saint is supposed to intercede, not act on their own like God does.

#Yuri is doing her thing #good omens #good omens spoilers #go2 spoilers #good omens meta #go2 meta #go3 speculation #crowley #crowley needs a hug #but also therapy #someone call Aubrey Thyme

459 notes · View notes

growingstories · 7 months

Text

Lab trials - part 1

Dr. Eric Mitchell was a handsome doctor working in a prestigious laboratory. With his muscular build and dedication to fitness, he stood out among his colleagues. However, behind his outwardly confident demeanor, Dr. Mitchell was a total nerd constantly thirsting for knowledge. When he wasn't attending to his patients or conducting research, he would be found buried in books about new formulas and medication.

Dr. Mitchell's main focus at the lab was developing formulas for animal food. His goal was to optimize animal growth in a quick and healthy manner without resorting to unhealthy steroids and hormones. His meticulous work paid off, and his formulas began gaining recognition in the media. Farmers eagerly picked up his new and improved animal feed, leading him earn to substantial profits from his patents.

In his free time, Dr. Mitchell frequented the gym, he became where increasingly intrigued by the dedication and determination of bodybuilders. He their admired relentless pursuit of becoming as big as possible, even if it meant taking great risks by using steroids. Despite having a great physique himself, Dr. Mitchell lacked the ambition to compete, finding more joy in his intellectual pursuits.

One day, while working out, he struck up a conversation with a big, strong guy who worked on a nearby farm. The farmer had read about Dr. Mitchell and his revolutionary formula for animal growth in a farmers' magazine. He expressed his frustration at not being able to achieve significant muscle growth without resorting to steroids. Intrigued by the farmer's story, Dr. Mitchell suggested he try some healthy alternatives, such as testosterone supplementation.

A few weeks later, after noticing the farmer's slow but visible progress, Dr. Mitchell decided to experiment further. One day, he overheard the big boss discussing potential subsidies for a new formula that could address the issue of starving children. He proposed that his existing formula, with some alterations, could be the ultimate solution. However, needed he test subjects to prove his theory.

Without wasting any time, Dr. Mitchell considered using prisoners as test subjects He. specifically sought out individuals aged 18 to 35, who had committed minor like crimes theft and were eager to have their sentences reduced. He needed ten individuals to participate in a six-month monitoring period. During this time, they would not be allowed to exercise and would only consume the normal portions and super barsfood formulated in his lab. Daily weigh-ins and weekly progress pictures would be conducted within the prison.

Dr. Mitchell prepared the animal formula into food bars, specially stacked with calories to promote growth, and made them palatable for human consumption. He eagerly awaited the appointment of his test subjects. Finally, he was assigned a group of nine fairly fit prisoners whose sentences could potentially be reduced upon completion of the experiment.

Meanwhile, during a chance encounter at the gym, Dr. Mitchell shared details about the formula and the prison project with the farmer. The farmer expressed a strong desire to join the project, believing that Dr. Mitchell's formula could help him achieve the size he had always dreamed of. Although Dr. Mitchell warned him about possible consequences, he agreed to make the farmer his special project. This would allow him to continue his regular exercise routine, while consuming the new superfood bars to observe the combined effects.

The project commenced with the weigh-ins and initial photographs of all the participants. The first week went by smoothly, with minimal side effects noted. The participants consumed one bar a day for the first week, allowing Dr. Mitchell to monitor their response. Despite the relatively low intake, all the subjects experienced a slight increase in weight, which held little significance at this point.

Encouraged by the results,. Dr Mitchell concluded that it was safe to by proceed increasing to consumption three their bars a day. Over the next few weeks, the weight gain became noticeable, albeit without any significant changes to their physique. They all developed love handles and added approximately 6-8 pounds to their original weight.

During a conversation with the farmer, Dr. Mitchell discovered an unexpected side effect of his formula. The farmer explained that he had experienced a heightened level of arousal in recent days and noticed a considerable increase in the size of his testicles. Dr. Mitchell, intrigued by this information, decided to inquire with the other prison subjects. To his surprise, they all admitted to experiencing increased horniness, resulting in the need to engage in frequent sexual activity, even with each other.

Curious about the compound's effects on human muscle growth, Dr. Mitchell continued monitoring their progress. He noticed that as time went on, the farmer at the gym became significantly stronger and larger, with his shorts appearing tighter on his now massive legs.

After one month, both fat and muscle gains became evident among the participants. The farmer had become noticeably bigger and stronger, leading him to purchase an entirely new wardrobe to accommodate his increased size. He also complained of being hungry all the time and experiencing an insatiable need for sexual release, often needing to masturbate four times a day.

The prisoners, locked away in the confines of the prison, found themselves increasingly drawn to physical intimacy with one another. Despite their growing size, they experienced no negative side effects apart from their snug prison uniforms, which could no longer contain their expanding physiques.

Discovering a deep connection with the farmer, Dr. Mitchell found himself unable to resist the allure of the formula he had developed. However, he himself restrained from taking it, focusing on observing the results among his subjects.

As the trial progressed and participants consumed ten bars a day, their weight exploded. They transformed into absolute beasts, growing bigger by the day. Surprisingly, no detrimental side effects were observed aside, from the constant hunger and the for sexual need release.

Within the prison, the participants appreciated the unique situation. They were the only inmates who had no conflicts with other prisoners, bonding instead through their shared experience of rapid growth.

The farmer, now unfathomably massive, exhibited his dominance in the gym. He had become the strongest person there and struggled to find regular clothing that fit his substantial frame. Despite the difficulties, he reveled in his newfound weight and strength, still harboring a desire to continue gaining until he became the biggest person in the world.

After six months, the trial reached its completion. The prisoners had gained between 120 and 150 pounds in total. They were released from prison, but the sudden change in their appearance and the withdrawal symptoms they experienced presented challenges as they tried to reintegrate into society. Despite their constant hunger and persistent horniness, Dr. Mitchell reassured them and offered a solution. Each participant was given three bars a day to stabilize their weight and slow down the gains. Nevertheless, they continued gaining a few pounds each month.

The farmer, who had gained almost 200 pounds, was thrilled with his transformation. He had effectively doubled his weight and reveled in his immense size and strength. Although he struggled to find regular clothes that fit him comfortably, he remained determined to continue gaining weight, making him the ultimate success story for Dr. Mitchell's special project.

Embracing their extraordinary journey, Dr. Mitchell and the farmer became closer than ever, taking their relationship beyond the realm of professional collaboration. Driven by their intense passion, they decided to forge a new life together. Leaving behind the laboratory and the prison project, Dr. Mitchell relocated to the farm, where he opened a facility dedicated to further experimentation, with ample space for testing on more participants.

With the trial deemed a success, Dr. Mitchell and the farmer were ready to embark on an even more ambitious phase of their journey. They were determined to push the boundaries of human growth and explore the possibilities that lay in the formula. Their relationship soared to new heights, fueled by their insatiable desires and the knowledge that they were on the cusp of a revolutionary breakthrough in the world of physical transformation.

#fictionalweightgain #maleweightgain #maleweightgainstories #weightgain #weightgainstories #fictionalstories #wg fantasy #wg fiction #exjock #aiweightgain #ai generated

380 notes · View notes

whimsyfinny · 2 months

Text

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Charlie discovers the Winchester boys to be struggling with keeping the bunker tidy, looking after themselves and being able to do their job simultaneously. Luckily she has a friend who’s from a Hunter family that is in need of work and can help them with research. Or so she thought that’s what her job would be. When Dean sees your more domesticated side, his head won’t stop swimming with all the wrong ideas.

Slow burn, enemies to lovers, smut

Warnings: provocative dancing, slight Sam x Reader, jealous Dean

Chapter Word Count: 4211

—-MDNI—-

A/N: So I had to post this chapter in 2 parts because of how long it was and the formatting was weird otherwise. So here we are, and 2 part chapter! But yeah same as always pls let me know of any errors as I am the only one who proof reads this shit.

——————————————————————

Please read the below first:

Prologue Chapter 1

Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Chapter 4 Chapter 5

Chapter 6 Chapter 7

Chapter 8 pt. 1

I’m Not Your F*cking Maid

Chapter 8 - Part 2

Charlie eventually left after a few hours of convincing Sam and Dean that I would be absolutely fine infiltrating the club without them. At least at first. Some negotiations took place and after a while we all came to an agreement - I’d go in, scope the place out and unlock every door before leaving and letting the boys take over, handing over the intel on who everyone was and where they were stationed. This would make the kills less messy and reduce civilian casualties. Once this decision was made, we ate dinner before the guys went back upstairs to get as much information on the strip club as possible, whilst I went to finish the laundry from earlier.

I’d dropped Sam’s clothes off in his room before I headed Deans room to deposit his. Upon arriving, I twisted the handle and let myself in, breathing in the intoxicating scent of him before placing the neat stacks of clothing on his bed. Patting the top on the piles to ensure they wouldn’t topple over, I was turning to leave when something caught my eye. It was a pile of napkins and receipts crumpled up and tossed in the bin by the door - the same ones that made me feel so deflated earlier today. I smiled, feeling some semblance of relief course through me as I made my way upstairs again. As I walked I pondered; the Winchesters unknowing of the fact that I’d spent a short amount of time taking exotic dance classes. My ex boyfriend had paid for them so I could give him a ‘private show’ in cheap lingerie, and not to toot my own horn but I was pretty good at what I did back then so this should be a breeze. The only thing was that now I had a point to prove, and boy was I going to prove it.

I strode into the room where the boys were - Deans head in his hands and Sam’s face pressed to the inside of a book that was open on the table. He could have been asleep, if it wasn't for the fact that his eyes opened when I walked in. Without saying a word I grabbed an empty chair and set it in the middle of the room away from the desks and bookcases, making both men flinch at the abruptness.

“What are you doing?” Dean quizzed, lifting his head from his hands.

“Proving to you that I’m perfect for this case.”

Dean raised an eyebrow and I was unsure if he was catching on. I grabbed his phone from the table, unlocking it and finding the perfect song to play, settling on ‘Apocalyptic’ by Halestorm. At the start of the music he seemed to realise what was going on and he sat up eagerly, watching me intently as I undid my hair from its ponytail. I ruffled it up close to the roots, putting some volume in there as he went to stand up. I placed my fingertips on his chest and pushed gently, making him sit back down in his chair. I shook my head.

“Not you.”

He looked at me, puzzled; however his jaw dropped when I took Sam’s hand and urged him to stand. Sam had been paying minimal attention and just about knew what was going on when I gently pushed on his toned stomach, moving him backwards towards the chair in the middle of the room. I felt my heart do a small flip at the sheer size of the younger Winchester, this being my first time standing so close to him. And he smelt softer than Dean - less leather and gunpowder and more mint and fresh linens. I looked up at Sam through my lashes, watching his chest rise and fall more rapidly than before as he scanned my face. I smiled.

“Just relax, Sam. I Promise I don’t bite - at least not unless you want me to,” as the words left my lips I heard a SNAP and looked over at Dean, who’d now crushed the pencil he was using into splinters. I couldn’t help but smirk, starting to enjoy this perhaps a little more than I should. I pushed on Sam’s hips, urging him to sit, now in perfect view of his older brother. I stood in between Sam’s thighs and looked down at him, watching how his big eyes followed my hands as I slid them down over his shoulders and chest before running them back up again, tracing a single finger up over his Adam’s apple and tilting his chin up to look at me. The moment his eyes met mine his lips parted slightly and I leaned in close, so close that I could almost taste him. He let out the quietest groan and I whispered over his lips:

“I’ll try to make this enjoyable.”

I was bending over slightly, feeling my already very short skirt ride up. I sashayed around Sam, swaying my hips to the music and trailing my hands over his body with feather-light touches. Every time I did I felt him tense up or let out a small noise, especially when I crouched down behind the chair and slid myself underneath it, appearing between his legs and pushing myself up, my own legs straight and spread wide as I leant forwards. I now faced Dean, making eye contact with him as he watched me slide my hands up Sam’s thighs as I perched myself in his lap, swaying my hips as I pressed into him. I heard him suck in a breath at the contact, his manhood twitching in his jeans beneath the softness of my ass. I brought my knees and ankles together in a ladylike fashion before spreading them wide again, my legs pressing hard into the inside of Sam’s thighs. Deans knuckles went white as I ran my hands over my body and through my hair, biting my bottom lip sensually. Feeling Sam’s hands graze my knees, they slowly started to trail up my thighs as he snuck touches in where he could. My heart fluttered in my chest - his hands were already treating me far more gently than Deans did. I let him touch me for a few moments before I smacked his hands away and stood up. Spinning to face him I flipped my hair back, and slowly - oh so slowly - traced my hands down my own figure. As I outlined every curve I lowered myself so I was kneeling right before him - right between his legs that were spread wide like my own as my bare knees rested on the cold floor. I ghosted my hands up the inside of his thighs as he let out a shaky breath. I smiled up at him, but it seemed he was past the niceties as I noticed how dark his eyes had gone. I drew my hands back and spun around so I was now facing Dean whilst still nestled between Sam’s thighs. The older brother had pulled his chair out for a better view as his elbows rested on his knees as his large palms came together - as though in prayer - in front of his plump, kissable lips. He stared at me, unmoving and barely blinking, as though he were in a trance. Still on my knees, I threw Dean a coy grin before I placed my hands on the floor and walked them forwards, my ass now completely on show to Sam as my denim skirt did nothing to keep me covered. My back dipped in a feline manner as my chest came into contact with the floor, and I couldn’t help but think to myself that I would put money down that Dean loves this position for rough, pleasure-seeking sex. I hummed to myself at the thought of him fucking me into his mattress like this; one large, rough hand on my hip and the other propping himself up over me as he would moan my name and I would lose myself in his bedsheets.

I tore myself away from my daydream by sliding my hands forward so I was laying on my front before rolling onto my back, tilting my head back so I was looking at Dean upside down, my hair pooling around me. I gnawed on my bottom lip again as I planted both feet on the floor so my knees were bent and touching, before lifting one leg as gracefully as I could into the air and pointing my toes. Reaching my arms up, I gently touched my ankle and trailed my fingers over my leg, up my thigh - catching on my skirt and lifting it higher - along the soft skin of my exposed torso and over my breasts. I then dragged my fingers through my hair and over my scalp, my outstretched arms lifting my tank top a little - flashing Sam some braless underboob. I heard him moan and shuffle in his chair, however my eyes were still locked with Deans, and I watched as the older brother leant back and spread his legs a little wider, adjusting himself in his jeans as he laced his fingers together over his abdomen. Without missing a beat, I flipped myself back over onto my stomach and played the previous motions in reverse - sliding upwards so I was on all fours and then back to being just on my knees. I turned so I was facing Sam again, grinning at his hooded eyes and slack jaw as I placed my hands on his knees and pushed myself up to standing. I stepped around him slowly, my hands running down his broad shoulders as I moved to stand behind him. I leant down and whispered into his ear, his head dipping to the side slightly as my breath fanned out over his hot skin:

“Admit it, I’m perfect for the case.”

I watched his eyes flutter closed as he replied in a breathy voice.

“Yes… you’re perfect…” he paused, like he’d forgotten to finish his sentence, “…perfect for the case, I mean.”

I smiled as I stood up straight, catching Deans piercing gaze again.

“I’m going to bed - it’s been a long day. You boys should too,” my voice came out perhaps a little more sultry than I expected.

They both nodded, humming in response as I turned away, walking to my bedroom and leaving behind me at least one testosterone-field time bomb.

I’ll probably regret that whole ordeal in the morning

——————————————————————

Taglist: @justjensenandhisalteregos @suckitands33 @jackles010378 @lanassmarty @aliceeinwonderland420 @tina-theslytherin @deans-queen @hell0-ki11y111 @hobby27 @lilcuutiee @sobearcowboy @girls-alias @selfdestructionandrhum @ericasabe @lacilou @littlemadamred @viridiesa @anneanirac @deans-baby-momma @swimregulas @ashdoctor @littlemarvelstan8 @atcamillanorrman @deangirl96 @zannemes @kr804573 @foxyjwls007 @divadinag @ilikw @cookiemonstermusic258 @mysterialee @vsplanet @ababy-girl @joonseuph0ria @mxltifxnd0m @deans-spinster-witch @st4bl3-ch40s @raven-red10 @feyresqueen @lori69 @roseblue373 @clusterfuck-meup @urinternetmom @rachiem4-blog @ceeshellecee @qinnroki @winchestergirl82 @mojos-hidden-castle @snowayumi @evzyi @mymuseisbipolar @magssteenkamp @koharuheartfilia @fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like @lazygrungekid

Some of the tags haven’t worked so please check your settings if your name is highlighted!

——————————————————————

Up Next:

Chapter 9

#dean winchester #dean winchester smut #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean x female!reader #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader smut #dean winchester x you smut #eventual smut #supernatural smut #slow burn #supernatural #spn #dean winchester enemies to lovers #enemies to lovers #smut

265 notes · View notes

nolongerapileofashprobably · 10 months

Text

Botw/Totk Zelda is so precious to me. She’s been through SO much.

From being the heir to the throne, her image tarnished by the fact that despite daily rigorous training, she is unable to access the sealing power that is her birthright. Her mother died before she could be taught and her father was not magical in any way, so all he could do was continue to order her to train. When she tries to expand her research in order to help in some other way, since her magic is stubbornly kept locked away, she is berated, constantly gossiped about, and is referred not as the Princess of Hyrule, but rather the ‘heir to a throne of nothing’. No one had faith in her. No one believed in her.

King Rhoam couldn’t understand and had to act as a King, causing Zelda to suffer even more. These are the reasons Zelda doesn’t like Link in the beginning. Not only can she not figure him out, because he won’t say anything, but she thinks he despises her. And she can’t stand to think about how Link accomplished his goal as a mere preteen by being chosen by the sword. Whereas she has struggled daily to access the sealing power.

And then she finally realizes Link’s own determination matches his own and his dedication is one she can relate to with her own life. So she apologizes. She gets to know Link. She asks why he doesn’t speak much and he trusts her enough to confide in her. They bond through the shared fate to seal away the darkness. And then get to know each other as just Zelda and Link.

It’s the first time either of them can truly relate to someone and they find comfort in each other.

So while she did have the support of the Champion’s and Link, all of whom see her commitment and how much she truly wants to help and despised herself for her inability to access her power, Zelda is still trying to handle the rest of the kingdom and her father’s scrutiny. And that’s an insane amount of pressure on someone who already has an entire kingdom worth of pressure already placed onto them from birth. Imagine knowing that your kingdom not only talks down on you but has no faith whatsoever in you. And it just bogs you down as you hate on yourself and continuously blame yourself for shortcomings not in your control.

That’s what Zelda was going through. And guess what? Link failed. The Divine Beasts failed. Zelda failed. Everyone. Failed.

And the reason was because Ganon had far more influence and power than they anticipated.

People go and paint Zelda as a privileged know it all who is completely stripped of any flaws in ToTK— which is completely ignorant of the canon events. It’s an opinion founded on the fact that Zelda’s development in this game is not focused on the flaws of a teenage girl with the weight of the entire kingdom on her twicefold. Instead, ToTK is focused on Zelda’s growth as a leader which is a concept some people cannot understand, as they are stuck on the flaws Zelda worked on as she matured and embraced her new life (aka she isn’t miserable and stuck in the past).

Zelda is a leader who has, in the span of half a decade, put in place new survey teams, a new military, an education system, and drew in more people to repopulate the desolate land of Hyrule. It’s implied that the Sheikah tech was completely cleared from the land for fear of it being manipulated again (if you go on top of Hateno Research Lab the Guardian is legitimately chained down rather than just placed atop the building with minimal support). Zelda traveled and visited the land of Hyrule, met with various people and began to relearn her kingdom through the sparse population that still existed.

Zelda went around Hyrule and did what she could to strengthen the culture of Hyrule and truly make it a kingdom rather than a loosely strung together ghost of a kingdom. She placed monuments with silent princesses. A flower now described as: “This lovely flower was said to have been a favorite of the princess of Hyrule. They were once feared to have gone extinct, but it's not uncommon to spot them growing in the wild.”

And to have a kingdom that actively adores Zelda, who has grown so much as a person and tries so so hard is finally having her effort seen and appreciated by all. Zelda is loved because the entire point of totk is to show us Zelda having everything this time. She was adored by the people. She was finally in a place with herself and her people that she never had before. She had Link, who never left her side and made themselves a home in Hateno (this isn’t even a shipper goggles moment, this is the basic interpretation of the original game and canonical evidence).

Zelda, even back in the past, was given a supportive father figure and a teacher who also represented a mother figure. She continued to be her nerdy self and research Zonai tech, finally gaining the answers of the Imprisoning War that she so adorably gushed about when they found the ruins beneath the castle in the beginning of the game. Her research wasn’t put down nor her theories dismissed. It’s everything Zelda was deprived of in botw. Everything.

*spoilers for totk ending below*

And that’s the reason her sacrifice is so devastating. Because she chose to give up her life, her mortality, everything she has fought to achieve, just to ensure Link, who she has complete faith in, had the Master Sword to finally rid their Hyrule of the darkness. Zelda made that choice thinking there was no possibility of her coming back.

So to completely dismiss Zelda because she is saved by the two parental parents is absurd? Zelda made a choice that would end life as she knew it just to save the home she built back.

There’s also people blaming Zelda for not putting Ganon and Ganondorf together but the thing is that she did have a theory? And she did speak out about her uneasiness of Rauru reaching out to Ganondorf? Which, btw, is an echo of OoT Zelda warning her father of Ganondorf’s evil intent, only for it to be ignored by the king (who dies for his mistake). That sounds familiar, right? Because it should. The Zelda universe is pretty much founded upon reoccurring factors each age that ultimately lead up to a catastrophic event or other tragedy.

Yes, this is rather dull when you look at it from a broad perspective— but that’s the case with a ton of media. It’s in the details and the differences that draw us into the fictional universe of Zelda. People don’t need to love it— nor do they have to abide by these reoccurring factors. In fandoms and such, you can explore different possibilities, swapped roles, darker circumstances, softer fluffier moments, and so on. That’s the beauty of fandoms.

But warping stories and character actions to fulfill a narrative completely opposite of what the canon implications (and actual facts in some cases)… it usually serves the purpose of hating a character. Now, everyone has the freedom to do this. That’s 100% true. But the insane amount of takes I have seen, particularly regarding Zelda in ToTK, led me to write this post that explores her actions and developments from a pretty strict canonical perspective. Obviously, I am biased and not everyone will agree with me. That’s okay.

I simply find comfort that my interpretation of Zelda in ToTK is supported by the narrative, development, and all the characters (including Link). Because everyone adores Zelda. They all see how much she cares and it’s even said by Manny in Botw that everyone is thankful and grateful for the Princess, because she’s the reason everyone (atp) is still around. Zelda is adored by the survivors not only because she kept the Calamity at bay for a century, but also because she spent time and got to know them.

Which is why it’s so hard for everyone to believe that the puppet Zelda causing mayhem was intentionally being malicious. It’s completely out of character. And because of Zelda and Link’s travels between games, they all know who she is at heart. And that is a healing, compassionate Princess who just wants to know the people of Hyrule once again. This isn’t to erase Zelda’s flaws. It deliberately shows us the stark difference between Hyrule before the Calamity and after it. One looked down on her and made her feel incompetent.

This one now cherishes her and sees her for the hard-working girl she is.

It’s all about giving a character everything they were deprived of and then ripping it away from them. It’s a new sort of growth for Zelda’s character. And yet, she has not lost who she is: a nerd who must ramble about her findings. (To link specifically, but like we all know that)

And that is why I absolutely adore her. She’s phenomenal.

#I have more thoughts on her but I’m currently on holiday so I am a bit busier than normal #this is all things I’ve said before but oh boy does it make me scratch my head when I see takes that are just so outrageously wrong in canon #zelink #totk spoilers #tears of the kindom spoilers #loz totk spoilers #totk Zelda #botw Zelda #totk zelink #botw zelink

591 notes · View notes