#and the stick is the jabs at their height | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fairy-hub · 3 months

Text

𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐭 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬

Satoru finds out that you like reading gangbang fanfiction. Naturally, he has to do something with this newfound information. With the help of Toji and Suguru.

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞! 21 minutes/6.1k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: gangbang, double penetration (anal and cunt along with two dicks in one cunt right after), oral, anal with prep, light pain kink, biting, bondage, bdsm, collar and leash. usage of daddy/mama once, heavy praise/light degradation, mindbreak, thumb in ass, some satosugu, light painal for Satoru since suguru sticks a thin vibrating dildo up his ass, suguru edges satoru, teasing, friends w benfits/some type of sugarbaby set up, choking, knife play/no blood, pussy slapping, manhandling, squirting, overstimulation, satoru and toji put their balls on your face, ball sucking, face fucking, hair pulling, manhandling, light size kink, licking suguru's cock with satoru, making out with satoru, biting, bullet vibrator, strap on that gives toji a second cock, plugging cum in your ass, they are all sweet mean, satoru spits cum into your mouth

𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐡: 6.1k

oreo: i hope the wait was worth it, thank you for all the love and patience ya'll have given me

Satoru leans next to you, reading off your computer. “Gangbang, knife play, bondage, double penetration ya like it kinky.” You’re too late to close your computer. “He looks like me.”

Your body is burning, jumping out of your chair and whirling around to face Satoru. “Ok and? So what? You already know you’re attractive!” Crossing your arms, glaring into pretty blue eyes. “Is it dumb I would find someone who looks like you hot?!” Satoru’s playful grin spreads into an infuriating cocky smirk.

He slides his fingers through his hair, his black sleeve straining with his bicup’s flex. Long snow white locks fall into his intense, beautiful blue eyes. The silence thickening the air.

Tilting his head to the side, his jawline, thick adam’s apple, his pale neck would be perfect to kiss. “I like the way you’re looking at me.” Stepping forward, closing the small gap forcing you to look up.

Your cunt is getting wet from the height difference. “I’m not looking at you any type of way.” Jabbing his chest with your finger. His pec is hard, “Fuck me!” He leans in, pressing your palm flat on his chest.

Your voice softens, “You barged into my room n’ spied on my computer!” Squeezing his hard pec, swiping your thumb over his nipple. “You’ve gotten so much bigger.” Sliding your hand down feeling his sculpted abs through his shirt.

“You’ve been working out with Toji and Suguru too much.” You turn around facing your desk, flipping him off. “Unless you plan to be anything other than a menace I wanna cum whilst reading my fic. Help me cum or leave!” You softly gasp in surprise when Satoru presses you against your desk with his hard, large body.

He a fistful of your hair yanking it back, spitting on your face. Smearing it with his large hand, crooning, “But I thought you liked your men big n’ able to throw you around like a doll. Isn’t that what you said.” Smearing his spit with his hand, stuffing two fingers in your mouth.

Satoru smacks your ass squeezing a handful of your stinging cheek. He croons “I could help you cum.” Sticking his fingers, his cock lightly twitching when you gag. “Want me to read your fanfiction out loud for you?” Dragging his fingers out of your mouth.

He lifts your laptop lid up, not caring he is smearing spit on the screen, reading out loud. “He drags the knife along her inner thigh. She squirms the closer he gets to her soaking.” Sliding your shorts down, roughly smacking your ass

You loudly cry, then wonder, “What if they hear us?” Satoru pushes your underwear aside, gliding a thick finger between your soft lips. Getting his thick finger wet before nudging it in.

He’s thick finger filling up your cunt shouldn't feel this good.

Satoru outs them, “Tojj and Suguru would jerk off off to the sounds of me clapping your cheeks. I could cuck them both.” Your cunt squeezes Satoru’s thick finger. “Or you can moan their names, they could join us. You can be the slut who lets us run a train on her, or fuck you all at once.”

Satoru slips his finger out slapping your cunt roughly. Cutting through the sweet stinging pain with two fingers. Slowly fucking his thick fingers into you at a steady pace. “You can write about it after, call it one girl, three cocks n’ three holes. Come on say their names, i wanna see you struggle to take Suguru’s fat cock.”

You whine, “Toooojiii, Suug!!!! Satoru is being mean to meeeee! Cooommmee helpppp!”

Suguru calls from the hallway, “Aw Toru why bother her, she said she wanted to read.” Coming into your bedroom, taking notice of your shorts in the ground. His eyes flicking from those to your sweet soft ass and cunt stuffed with Satoru’s soft fingers.

Satoru’s large body hiding your’s. Till he steps aside letting Suguru watch how your soft wet cunt takes Satoru’s thick fingers. “What’s so mean about this?” Suguru glides his finger in with Satoru’s. “Your cunt is drooling n getting so tight sweetheart.” They pump their fingers in sync.

Suguru squeezes a handful of your ass, his hand larger than Satoru’s. “Fuuuck that feels so good! I love having my cunt played with. Don’t stop please.” You bend over holding onto your desk, cupping Satoru’s hard cock through his sweats.

You stroke Satoru through his sweats moaning, “Satoru you’re big, wanna you to fuck me hard, make me squirt with your long hard cock.” You clench Satoru and Suguru’s thick fingers with your sloppy wet cunt. Whining when Suguru roughly smacks your ass.

Satoru sneers, “Not even able to pay attention long enough to answer.” He pulls out of your grasp, keeping his thick fingers in your soft wet cunt.

Satoru pushing his sweats down his cock pops out. “What’s wrong with how mean I’m being? Answer me n’ you can touch my cock.” He spits in his hand, smearing it over his cock hand. Groaning as he strokes himself.

You glance over your shoulder admiring the beautiful sight of Satoru’s arm flexing as his large hand strokes his long cock. Thick white pre cum dripping from his pale pink head.

Suguru pushes his gym shorts down, kicking them aside. Grabbing your wrist when you try to touch him. You whine, “Nnnnothing’s wrong!” Their fingers graze your sweet spot and the pleasure triples.

Your thighs are trembling, toes curling into the carpet, slick dripping down your thigh. You confess, “I want you to y'all to help Satoru bully my cunt, make me the house whore, I wanna be the one y'all stuff your cocks in when it gets hard. Please lemme be your pretty cumdump.”

Toji barges into your bedroom demanding, “Why should I care if he is being mean or-oh?” He slips his large headphones off his head, setting them on your dresser. “Princess I can show you mean, they are spoiling your sweet little cunt right now.”

He adds, “I’d fuck ya like I hate ya, make sure you can’t walk n make you need us to look after you.” Toji wastes no time ripping your underwear off to get a better view of your stuffed cunt. Slowly stuffing two fingers in.

Your jaw drops with a loud moan. You’re naked with your three incredibly hot roommates fucking their thick fingers into you. Getting off on the situation and their thick fingers.

Satoru strops stroking himself, standing next to your face. Letting out a softly sigh in relief when wrap your lips around him. Groaning dropping his head forward, watching his cock vanish with your mouth.

Suguru tells Toji, “Satoru found out our sweetheart is a smutty fanfic reading pervert, gangbang. N’ now she wants to be the house whore, sounds kind of hot, like out of a porno. I’m down.” He moves next to your head, slowly m

Suguru glides his fingers out smearing your slick on his cock. Grabbing your laptop, sliding it over for him to scroll to the warnings reading. “Bondage, squirting, anal, double penetration-one hole/triple penetration, With some face fucking, face slapping,0 and light knife play? I’ll be right back.” He rushes out of the room.

Satoru glides his fingers out, sticking both in his mouth to lick clean. Grabbing your hair roughly fucking your soft wet mouth. His balls slapping your chin.

Toji pumps his fingers faster, quickly finding that sweet spot that made your soft cunt quiver. "Can I fuck your ass?" Satoru slips his cock out with a soft pop letting you breathe.

"Fuck whichever hole you want." Toji spits on your asshole and stuffs it in with his thumb. Slowly pumping his thumb letting your soft hole adjust. "Nn it feels weird but good."

Toji spit on your asshole again, pushing it in with a quicker pump of his thick thumb. "Have you had your ass fucked before?"

You cup and massage Satoru's balls, kissing and licking his warm cockhead. His cock standing up eager for attention making it easy to suck and kiss without using your hands.

You look up into his beautiful ocean blue eyes and plea, “Even if I’m asleep I want you to spread my legs and do what you want to my cunt. I’ll be a good slut.” Taking his long, pretty cock in your mouth bobbing your head slowly working towards deep throating.

Satoru groans, his cheeks flushing a dark pink, “Fuuuuuccck!” He grabs your head holding you still. “You’re a dirty pervert who wants to wake up to Suguru eating you out as Toji and I jerk off onto your face.” He tightens his grip on your hair, slowly fucking your face, testing and getting off on your gag reflex. His balls are lightly hitting your chin.

Satoru groans, “We could cover you in cum, make your sloppy wet cunt sore, make sure you soak this bed. So you’ll have to pick one of our’s after we clean you up to recover in.” Fucking your mouth faster, some spit drips down your chin.

Toji squeezes your cheek, tugging on your asshole with his thumb stretching you out. He steadily strokes your sweet spot getting you so close to cumming. Your cunt is clenching and squelching.

Your thighs tremble, toes curling into the carpet, and thick slick drips down your thighs. "She's getting so wet n' tight." Fingering your tight, sloppy wet cunt faster. Refusing to let up on your sensitive sweet spot. "Are you really cumming for us that quickly?" His thumb glides in your asshole easier.

Satoru glides his cock out of your mouth. "Whatcha thinkin' sweetheart?" Toji's thick fingers in your cunt, and thumb in your ass make it difficult to think. "She's already getting dumber, can't even answer a simple question." Satoru's softly slaps your cheeks with his hard cock. Then he stuffs your face into his balls.

Without another thought you open your mouth to softly suck Satoru's balls. Suguru comes back in, dumping a bag full of toys onto your bed. "Here are some butt-plugs, dildos. cock rings, ropes, o ring, and for you Toji," He grabs a strap with a thick dildo dangling from it. "You can fuck both holes; the dildo will need to be above your cock."

Toji glides his fingers out of your ass. Suguru pulls the toy out of his grasp. "Actually, here is disinfectant. We don't want to get our cock sleeve sick and be out of commission." Toji grabs the packet with his cleaner hand. Forcing the lid open and tugging out a wipe.

Suguru drops the strap on. onto the bed leaving Toji to help himself to it when ready. He grabs the knife off the bed, flicks out the blade, and returns to your computer.

Satoru pulls his balls out of your face, tugging you up by your hair. Suguru's words settle in, you retort, "Commission implies I'm paid and if that's the case I'mma need more than just dick for payment. I'm too broke to be sucking dick for free if I don't gotta." Suguru turns around, his smile soft despite the knife he presses to your throat.

Suguru insists,"If you wanna be our sugar baby just say so, in fact, get on your knees and beg for it." Satoru let go of your hair. stepping aside to give you room to kneel.

You don't have the chance to speak before Satoru is rambling, "If you beg well enough, I could cover your half of the rent for one." He grabs the collar and leash off the bed, crouching next to you. "I already get your broke-ass food. You can't complain about feeling bad when I give you a gift."" Carefully wrapping the collar around your neck, fastening the clasp, then tugging on the leash.

Toji decides, "Satoru is rich enough to be your sugar daddy, my cock and cuddles will be payment enough." He grabs a bottle of lube and a small buttplug off the bed.

Suguru slips the knife under your chin tilting your head up. "Bullshit you'll get her lingerie for her to wear." He glances at Toji, "What about that maid outfit she suggested after bitching about cleaning up after Satoru and You?" He looks down at you, dark thick hair framing his handsome face.

You decide, "They've been cleaner, so I could wear it as a reward. Clean your balls of every last drop of cum." Of course, you get my undivided attention first for always helping keep this place clean." Suguru is so beautiful with his broad shoulders, thick pecs, and sculpted abs. With a black happy trail leading to short well-trimmed hair and his thick hanging cock.

Suguru glides the sharp knife's tip up your chin to your bottom lip. "I want to see you in that see-through underwear with the maid outfit." Gliding the knife along your lip, and up your cheek. "I want to be able to see your pretty cunt through the lace while I have my fun."

Satoru stands up too fast, eyes wide he demands, "How do you know she has something like that?"

You take Suguru's cock in your mouth, swirling your tongue around his head. His warm pre-cum sweet and thick coating your tongue. There is so much pre-cum you can't help but suck harder, licking his small dripping slit.

Suguru groans, "I wash everyone's clothes that means her's too." Gliding the knife to the side of your head. You are slowly gliding Suguru deeper into your mouth with a loud moan.

Toji states, "We should also do a color system to check-in. Green for keep going, yellow for slow down, red for a break, pineapple as the safe word n' we'll start aftercare." He lubes up the toy. "I know she's gonna beg at some point but right now I wanna stuff this up her ass."

Suguru sets the knife on the desk behind him. Grabbing your hair holding your head still stuffing his cock deep into your throat, holding you there. "Lift her ass up and stick it in her then." Satoru hands Toji the leash, watching Toji wrap his arm around your waist helping you partly stand up into a bent-over position.

Satoru suggests, "Why not go ahead n' tie our pretty slut up in a mating press. She can beg like that, and we can tug her around on the bed by the leash." He stands next to you spreading your cheeks apart for Toji.

Toji tugs on the leash and Suguru's firm grasp keeps you from budging. "We could do that." The thick leather collar presses into your cock stuffed throat. Suguru groans, shallowly pumping his hips fucking your mouth slowly.

Toji lines the tip of the plug up with your asshole gliding it in. He swirls and pumps half of the toy-smearing lube. Your cunt clenches around nothing from getting your ass spread open by something thicker than Toji's thumb.

Suguru bottoms out giving you seconds to breathe before stuffing his cock back in, quickly fucking your throat. He grabs the knife off the desk lightly dragging it across your back. You can't help but squirm, the air in your lungs escaping in a cry Suguru muffles with his cock.

Toji pushes the plug in the rest of the way, pushing on the jewel with his thumb. "Let's tie our new slut up." Satoru lets go of your cheeks and Toji moves to the other side of your bed, tugging on the leash and pulling you onto the bed roughly. Some toys pressing into your back.

You can't gasp as you fall onto your back, the collar choking you. Suguru turns towards your laptop picking it up, setting the knife down. He scrolls through the fic skimming it.

Toji straddles your head his balls resting on your forehead and eyes. His thick cock nudging your lips smearing bitter pre-cum. You open your mouth groaning when he rocks his hips forwards.

He brings the laptop over, sitting on the bed next to you. "Do you want Satoru and I to act out the making out part while we are inside you?" He glances from the laptop down at you. Where Satoru is binding your legs together with the dark red rope.

Satoru croons, "You don't have to use the fanfic as a reason to kiss me again." Making kissy faces at Suguru who rolls his eyes and grabs his friend by the neck pulling him closer.

Suguru nudges Satoru's mouth open with his thumb and spits. Satoru swallows, grabbing Suguru's cock and swirling his fist as he strokes him. Suguru groans, "I know." He leans in biting down on Satoru's bottom lip. The needy cry makes your cunt clench.

Suguru pulls away, "Finish tying her up and let Toji have fun with her mouth." He stuffs his thumb into Satoru's mouth for him to suck on. "Then I want you to shove your pretty face into her beautiful cunt so you can put that annoying ass mouth to good use." He lets Satoru go.

He glides his thumb over Suguru's fat cockhead, smearing pre-cum. He sticks his thumb in his mouth groaning from tasting Suguru's pre- cum.

Suguru sets the laptop down on top of a pillow, scrolling through the fic. "Cum spitting? Satoru when we cum in her you can eat it out and share it with her."

Satoru is quick tying at you in a mating press. "I love pie so why not." He slaps your cunt four times, pinching your clit. Your trembling, eyes stinging, your cunt pleasurably sore.

Satoru grabs a vibrator turns it on and holds it to your clit. Slowly swirling it, stoking your soft sensitive nub. He stuffs his face into your cunt Suguru orders him "Keep your ass in the air."

He shifts keeping his face in your sloppy wet cunt putting his ass in the air. Satoru is giving Suguru a perfect view of his cock and balls. Suguru grabs a thin dildo and lube, pouring it onto the tip before setting the lube aside.

Suguru lines the thin dildo up with Satoru's ass. Smacking his cheek. your sloppy wet cunt muffling Satoru's whine. Suguru nudges the head in, spitting in his hand and grabbing Satoru's cock.

Satoru lifts his head, "You arennnnnnn!" He moans when Suguru stuffs the thin dildo deep into Satoru's ass. Turning it on, leaving it on the highest setting, keeping it still, it's head pulsing against Satoru's g spot. "Fuck!" Suguru stuffs Satoru's head into your cunt.

Toji glides his cock out before he cums in your mouth. Pinching your nipple to hear your breathy whines get louder. He tugs on the leash, moving his hand to let you get a view of Satoru being a moaning mess between your legs with Suguru stuffing his ass.

Suguru looks at you and smirks, "He's been a pain in the ass lately. Why not show him what it's like living with him?" Satoru bites your thigh in between the rope. He stops when you cry, licking the bite mark. Then stuffing his face into your soft, soaking wet cunt.

Satoru glides his tongue through your lips. Stroking your clit with the toy faster. Your cunt clenching his tongue. He groans and tugs on the plug, slowly gliding half of it out and then stuffing it back in.

Toji wraps the leash around his hand and plants it down on the bed. Yanking your head back onto the bed, keeping you still for him to put his balls in your mouth. You groan and softly suck, swirling your tongue occasionally.

Satoru pumps his tongue faster, keeping the toy's pace steady. You grab a handful of Satoru's hair and wrap your fingers around Toji's thick cock. Jerking Toji off, sucking on his balls, tugging Satoru's soft hair grinding your cunt on Satoru's face, unable to keep still the rope keeping you from closing your legs.

Toji lifts his balls off your face, slapping his cock down on your open mouth and stuck-out soft tongue. Stuffing his thick fat into your mouth with a groan. Your eyes sting with tears as you choke on him.

He pinches, twists, and tugs on your soft nipple. "Fuck her soft wet mouth feels so good on my cock." You tug Satoru's hair, struggling to reflexively arch your back, feebly twisting your hips away from Satoru. Who rubs your clit faster with the toy, sending you over the edge.

Your sensitive cunt gushes into Satoru's mouth, your body trembles, toes curl. Toji's thick fuck pumping into your mouth muffling your moans. Toji groans, "Look at that our slut can squirt." Satoru sets the toy aside, it's still vibrating.

Suguru grabs Satoru's hair making you let go. He lifts Satoru up out of your cunt by his hair, pumping the dildo faster into Satoru's ass. Suguru lets his hair go spitting into his palm and grabbing Satoru's cock swirling his fist.

Suguru croons, "Are you getting close? You wanna cum on her pretty cunt then stuff it in with your sensitive cock?" Satoru whines unable to answer until Suguru is pulling the toy out of him.

Satoru cries, "Why did you stop?" His cock throbbing from the lack of stimulation. And he misses the feeling of being full of getting his g-spot fucked.

Satoru quickly retorts, "Why won't you stop waking me up when you crawl into my bed?"

You grab Toji's thick muscular thigh digging your nails in. He glides his cock out of your mouth, slipping off the bed. He yanks you upright by the leash, causing the leather collar to dig into your sore throat.

You grab the leather prying it away from your throat. Toji leans down, "What's your color beautiful?" Twisting you around and laying you on your back with your butt dangling off the edge of the bed.

You plea, "Green please I wanna cock in my cunt or ass!" Toji cups your cheek hanging off the edge of the bed. Softly messaging your cheek then roughly slapping your ass. The force of the thrust makes you lightly bounce.

He unwinds the leash, asking you, "What about both?" He hands the leash to Suguru who shoves a pout Satoru aside. He dramicly face plants into the pillow that Toji rips out from underneath him.

He sits up and points at both Suguru and Toji, "Yall are both assholes, why she wants your dick in her is beyond me. Fucking hell, not letting me cum, shoving me to the side, and stealing a pillow out from under me."

You chime in with, "Don't cry on my other pillows either." His eyes widen, his fingers lower and his bottom lip trembles.

Satoru's voice cracks "Et tu?"

"Call me brutus."

Toji grumbles, "Suguru stuff her mouth these two are killing it mentioning some random ass dude's name and speaking gibberish." Suguru tugs you closer to the middle of the bed. Toji grabs your ass and lifts you up stuffing the pillow underneath you.

Satoru crawls over and lays down next to you. You grab his cock, still wet with Suguru's spit. He softly kisses your cheek ignoring Suguru's cock dangling close by. He grabs your chin turns your head and steals a kiss. You can taste yourself on his tongue.

"Annoying ass thief I'm glad I didn't let you cum yet." You swirl your hand on Satoru's cock. His moans are beautiful, breathy, and needy. You're getting wetter hearing him, thick slick dripping down to your plugged-up asshole and seeping into your pillow.

Toji dips his head into your cunt licking up the sweet mess with loud groans. His nose occasionally nudges your soft, sensitive clit. He grabs the plug and tugs it out, setting it on your bed without giving a fuck. Softly biting your cunt's lips when you start to complain.

You break the kiss leaving Satoru's mouth at Suguru's mercy. Lifting your head looking down at Toji asking, "Did you bite me?" He slaps your cunt as Suguru slaps Satoru's lips with his cock.

You look to see Suguru grabbing Satoru's neck, the chain leash digging in. His thick cock glides past Satoru's glossy lips, his balls hitting the top of Satoru's head.

You jerk Satoru's cock faster, swiping your thumb over his head.

Toji grabs the male strap-on, steps into it, and sets the dildo above his own cock. He tightens the straps making sure it's comfortable and secure. He climbs onto the bed, holding both and lining himself up.

He nudges your ass with his warm, thick cock head. Swiping the cool dildo between your cunt's soft wet lips. Smearing your slick down it and gliding his cock head in. You reach down flattening your hand on Toji's hard abs.

There is a sweet pleasurable pain from Toji splitting your ass open. "Nnfuck your cock is going in! Put the other one! Please! Please! Pleeease!" Your jaw drops when he slips the toy in. Keeping his thrusts shallow, giving you just the tip. You can feel both cock heads rubbing together, the thin strip of skin between going taut.

Suguru slips his cock out of Satoru's mouth. Satoru grabs your chin and roughly kisses you. And all you can taste is Suguru when Satoru's tongue rubs your's. You moan into his mouth when Toji's hips hit yours, roughly and quickly filling you up with both cocks.

He strokes your clit with his thumb, slowly rocking his hips, keeping a slow steady pace. He groans, "Fuck I don't think I can last long the dildo in her pretty cunt is pushing against my cock. Her ass is so soft n' tight, she's gonna make me bust too quickly."

Suguru grabs the bottle of lube off your side table handing it to Toji. He pops the lid off and bottoms out till the tips of the dildo and his cock are tugging both sloppy wet holes. He carefully pours a line of lube on his cock, then gives the bottle back.

Toji grabs a part of the rope binging your thigh by your side. "Stupid little slut keeping my cock hard walking around the house looking so damn fuckable." He uses that to pull you towards him as he slams into you. The dildo brushing your sweet spot with the perfect pressure to have you losing your mind and his cock reaching deep.

Suguru sets the bottle aside, spitting in his hand and stroking his cock. Admiring Satoru and You making on the bed, your soft hand stroking Satoru's pretty cock. Smearing his thick white pre-cum down his cock with swipes of your thumb.

Your soft moans sound so beautiful alongside Satoru's needy whines. Suguru groans "I can't wait to feel the both of you."

Toji roughly fucks both cocks into you without mercy. Stroking your soft clit with his rough thumb, the bed rocking, your body would be harshly bouncing away if not for his grasp on the rope. The course rope rubs and presses more into your thigh.

Toji decides, "This house slut thing is definitely gonna work out. Whenever my cock gets hard I'll come to you." Fucking you harder, adding more pressure to your sensitive clit. Each quick stroke of your sweet spot has your mind going blank.

You can't focus enough to stroke Satoru's cock. He grabs your hand and sloppily fucks your hips. Suguru sticks his cock in between Satoru and You. You lick and kiss one side with Satoru sucking and licking the other. Your tongue brushing Satoru's.

You clench Toji with your ass and his massive beautiful muscular body trembles. He hunches over biting your chest, flicking your nipple with his tongue. His pace becoming sloppy. He lets you go and grunts, "Nn fuuuuck I don't wanna cum in ya yet mama wanna keep feeling you."

"Please cum, wanna feel your thick warm cum in my ass." Toji picks his pace keep, franticly fucking his cock into your soft warm ass. The sound of skin smacking skin joins the grunts, groans, and creaking of your bed. "Please daddy!" Toji busts instantly his thick warm cum shooting in your ass with a force you can feel.

Suguru pulls away and Satoru lets your hand go. He gets on his knees and grabs Suguru's hand pulling him in for a rough kiss. Leaving you all to Toji. He leans over, keeping enough space between to play with your soft sensitive clit.

His thick hard pecs into your face. You wrap your arms around him clawing his backside up with one hand. Burying your face into his chest, tugging on his hair. You can't help but bite down hard. The way Toji whines is getting you off.

He stops with his cock and dildo deep in you, keeping his cum from spilling out. "I couldn't stop cumming." He sits up out of your grasp, looking for another buttplug. "There's so much that I fucked deep into your ass." Snagging the biggest one, its thickest point is still thinner than Toji's cock.

Slowly pulling his cock and dildo out, slipping the plug in. He croons, "Can't let it drip out while Satoru and Suguru are fucking both their cocks into your messy slutty cunt." He kisses your forehead. "Ya did good for me, took my cock so well. How does your ass feel?"

You smile up at him, "Sore but good." He softly kisses you, keeping it short and quick. Pulling away, stepping out of the strap-on.

"I'll leave you at these two's mercy n' I'll be back for aftercare." He smirks, "Good luck you already look like a mindless, tired whore." He slaps your cunt then leaves you at Satoru and Suguru's mercy.

You look to see Suguru and Satoru sloppy kissing each other. Suguru has his large hand around both cocks, holding them together. Satoru slowly grinds his hips, rubbing their cocks together.

You suggest, "Why not rub your dicks together in me?"

Suguru breaks away from Satoru and drops the leash. "And here Toji was wishing her luck." He grabs his knife off the desk. "After all that she is already ready for more the second someone isn't touching her." Suguru lifts you up by your throat. His fingers are beneath the leather collar.

You feel so perfectly helpless and vulnerable tied up, held in the air by your throat. With two big guys about to sandwich in between their hard chest. You're about to feel their cocks rubbing together inside you after watching them make out.

Suguru and Satoru line their cocks up. Suguru lightly nudges past your lips. Satoru is rubbing down your slit, groaning when he feels Suguru's cock head brush his. Then gliding his wet head to your clit, stroking you.

You can't shift your hips to sink yourself down on Suguru's cock. Satoru remembers, "Weren't you about to show us how a whore begs to be a sugar baby?" You're clenching nothing, aching to feel them both.

Suguru grabs your hip with Satoru holding the other one. He presses the knife to your neck and suggests, "How about we make it easier on you?" He glides his head in, then pulls out, swirling his cockhead in small circles. "Before we double stuff your mess little cunt tell us what you are?" Satoru is steadily playing with your clit. Loving the sight of your soft pretty nub touching his pale pink cock head.

You confess, "I'm a needy cock loving pervert who spends too much time reading smut and playing with her cunt. Please fuck me into a mindless mess then pamper me afterwards." Satoru lines himself up, with their strength they can stuff their cocks in together.

You cry loudly, the sweet pain is overwhelming. Fondling Satoru's hard pec, dig your nails in and reach behind you. Grabbing a handful of Suguru's hair. You are desperate to ground yourself, but they don't give you a chance.

Their pace is uneven causing their cocks to stroke each other's. Satoru grabs your hair. "Pretty little slut you gonna eat the creampie Suguru and I make if I spit it into your mouth?" You can't think of a response.

It's impossible to think with their cocks stirring your guts up and the cool metal of the knife against your neck.

Suguru croons, "We just stuck our cocks in, are you really this easy to break?" His pace is harder but slower than Satoru's. His cockhead reaches just beneath Suguru's but he's thicker pressing Satoru against your g-spot with intense pressure.

Satoru points out with a cocky smirk, "Our slut only had enough energy to beg for more cock. We don't even have to train this one, she is meant to be our pretty little whore." He slips his finger underneath the collar tugging on it. "We should get her one just for her. What do you want your collar to say? Should it say brat, houseslut, cocksleeve?" You're so full, their cocks reaching so deep.

Suguru looks down into your eyes and groans, "She's such a pretty whore taking both our cocks in her soft wet cunt." Satoru's pace falters, his cock lightly twitching, veins pulsing. "You close already? With her tight cunt pressing our cocks together I feel the pulsing of your cock."

Satoru whines "Can't help it I was so close earlier n' I really wanna cum." He leans down softly kissing you, cupping your cheek. Gently cradling your face like he isn't bullying your sore, sensitive soaking-wet cunt with his cock.

Suguru slips his hand in between Satoru and You, flicking your nipple with the knife. There is an exciting fear that he could cut you at any moment. Part of you hope he does when he glides the knife lightly across your thigh in between the ropes.

Satoru whines, his pace falters, slowly down and getting harder. Satoru moans as thick warm cum trickles from his cock in short quick bursts. He grabs your bound thigh and digs his nails into your skin between the tight rope.

Suguru groans picking his pace up chasing his high. Fucking Satoru's thick cum deeper into you getting you off. Satoru breaks the sloppy, rough kiss and whines, "Fuck her soft cunt, your soft yet hard cock both is too much. I wanna do this again later, please I wanna cock warm with both of our cocks in her."

Your soft cunt squeezing their cocks is becoming too much for Satoru. He pulls out, getting on his elbow and licking where Suguru and You connect. Your trembling, eyes rolling back, tears trickling down your face.

"Look me in the eyes and lemme see you crying." Suguru wraps his large hand around your neck tilting your head up. He stares into your eyes, fighting to keep his pace steady. Satoru groans, "Cum in her, lemme taste you both." Suguru falters, stopping with his cock balls deep in your sloppy cunt.

His thick warm cum steadily pours into you from his fat head. "You're both beautiful filthy cum loving perverts." Satoru gets on his knees grabbing you by the rope. He bounces you on Suguru's thick cock making him tremble.

Slowly Satoru lifts you off Suguru's cock. Softly laying out down, slowly pulling out the buttplug, and carefully undoing the rope, checking over for any burns.

Suguru accuses, "That was a bitch move." Carefully unfastening your collar and lightly massaging your sore neck. Their actions are a wonderful gentle contrast to how they were manhandled and fucked you a moment prior.

Satoru retorts, "So was edging me." He flips Suguru off who rolls his eyes.

Satoru softly peppers kisses along the sore indention of the rope's pattern in your thighs. "There is no rope burn, but I don't want you to try and walk anywhere. Get one of us to carry you if need be." He dips his tongue into your sloppy cunt getting a thick mix of cum in his mouth.

Kissing you softly spitting the cum into your mouth. Then pulling away, softly encouraging you, "Swallow, good, that's it. Such a good slut."

Toji comes back into the room, "I got a bubble bath going in Suguru's bathroom along with some candles. I'm not getting in but one of you can." He checks his phone. "In an hour the food I put on Satoru's card will be here."

Satoru stretches your legs out, softly massaging your thighs. "I feel too good right now to care how you got that information." He slips off the bed, leans over to pick you up, cradling you to his chest. "I'll take a bath while Suguru can do the laundry he prides himself on doing."

Suguru suggests, "We should flip a coin to see who gets to take a bath with her and who washes the bedding."

oreo creampie's m.list

wanna read more? Roommate Au series

10K notes · View notes

bloodmoonmuses · 2 months

Text

sun-faded youth; shimmering potentiality | choi beomgyu

genre: choi beomgyu x reader, childhood friends to lovers, angst (like, wayyy more angsty than I anticipated lol), eventual fluff

wc: 3.2k

warnings: some swearing, mentions of food

summary: one day, after disappearing from your life for three years, beomgyu returns to place in which you grew to love him most: your childhood home.

The sun faded wallpaper of your childhood home would be remembered as the backdrop to your early morning adventures. Clad in your Princess Belle costume and Beomgyu in his Superman cape, the two of you wake to brave the world. Side by side, as always.

You and Beomgyu are alike in every way. You like the same foods (applesauce and goldfish crackers). You like the same TV shows (Spongebob). You like the same activities (drawing and playing make-believe). You like the same time of day (morning). Every Saturday, Beomgyu would come over to your house for breakfast. While your mother made blueberry pancakes, the two of you would craft.

You remember one day in particular, the memory wrinkling at the edges like a withering flower:

Strewn haphazardly across the living room is an array of crafting materials. Crayons, glitter, colorful paper, magazine scraps- it almost resembles a candy shop in how colorful it all is. Beomgyu snatches a glue stick away from you, using it to paste some torn pieces of newspaper to his hodge-podge of an art project. Picking up a pair of scissors, he cuts a few notches out of the top of the paper, making triangular peaks. His little hands can barely hold the scissors. They’re clunky in his grasp.

Despite his small hands, Beomgyu is quite tall for a 6 year old. Your eyes drift to your heights etched into the archway. A red line at age 2: You’re about 3 feet tall. Beomgyu is 3 and a half feet tall. A blue line at 4 years old: You’ve barely grown. Beomgyu has doubled in size. Most recently, there’s only an inch difference in your height. You’re finally catching up to him.

When satisfied with his embellishments, Beomgyu bends the paper and glues the ends together. He holds up his creation gleefully, wearing a huge grin that’s toothy in the best way.

“It’s a crown,” he declares, voice buoyant and as clear as a bell.

“Make me one too!” You demand.

Beomgyu crosses his arms and pouts. “You can’t be a prince!” he says. "I’m a prince.”

You roll your eyes at him. Boys are so simple, as your mom always said. Your best friend was no exception. “I wanna be a Queen, Beomgyu. It’s different.”

“Nuh-Uh!” He shakes his head furiously.

“Yuh-huh!” you contest.

“You’re full of it,” Beomgyu says. He turns away from you, placing the crown on his own head triumphantly.

You talk at his back. “Queens are, like, more better than princes, silly.”

At this, Beomgyu promptly turns back around, still grinning with his pouty lips. In all honesty, arguing was his favorite pastime. He liked seeing you riled up. “Meanie,” he says.

“Stupid,” you retort, jabbing a finger into his chest.

“Nerd.” Beomgyu sticks his tongue out at you. How princely, you think.

“Loser-”

“Time for breakfast!” your mom calls out from the kitchen.

The memory dissipates, like mist momentarily illuminated by a ray of sunlight only to then disappear into the sloth of a summer day. You try to grasp onto it, but with each passing day it more so resembles a daydream than a lived experience. All you have left is the occasional recounting of your youth with your mother.

Sometimes, you wish you didn’t remember Beomgyu at all.

It’s the summer before your senior year of college. You’re back in the same home you grew up in. Your mother refused to sell the house, even after all these years. In many ways, you’re grateful for this. In others, it makes you angry. Beomgyu hasn’t spoken to you since highschool graduation. It’s been three years. A part of you thought he’d drift back to you eventually. He knew where you lived. He knew where to find you. But he never came.

“Have you heard from Gyu?” Your mother would often ask.

You were never sure where it all went wrong. You loved him as much as you could possibly love someone without literally fusing into their form. Your eyes beheld the same stars as his but saw different constellations. Hearts that once followed the same rhythm were now out of sync. Your love couldn’t scale the distance. It couldn’t withstand the time, or weather the storm of your respective metamorphoses. When the flood passed, the clouds parted and the sun emerged, you weren’t gifted a prophetic rainbow. Instead, you were left with nothing.

“What do you think?” You’d always say, venom lacing your tongue.

Your mother looked at you with softened eyes. “Sore subject?”

“Yeah. Sore subject.”

Regardless of your fluctuating bitterness, being home did bring you comfort to some degree. You liked being shrouded in familiarity. Per the tradition, albeit without Beomgyu, you and your mother are making pancakes. There’s a wordless groove between the two of you, your mother measuring out the ingredients while you mix them accordingly. When the consistency is to your liking, you gently fold blueberries into the batter.

As you’re reaching for a pan, there’s a knock at the door. Well, four knocks. You hear Beomgyu’s voice in your head: A fourth to let you know it’s me.

It can’t be. There’s no way. Last time you checked, Beomgyu wouldn’t be back in town for another week. (Not that you’ve been stalking his socials or anything like that.)

Your mom dusts her hands off on her apron, then walks to answer the door. You remain in the kitchen, stricken with something you’ve never felt before. It feels as though you’re in quicksand, sinking into the floor beneath you.

“Gyuie! My little pumpkin, it’s been so long!” It’s really him. The gleeful timbre of your mother’s voice makes you nauseous. She doesn’t sound like a real person. How she can just pick up where they left off is beyond you. She doesn’t know of the guilt, the shame, the confusion that you’ve been harboring for the past few years. You’re sodden with pain.

When you walk into his line of vision, Beomgyu freezes, but only for a second. “I’m still taller than you,” he says. There’s a smirk dancing on his lips. Typical.

You’re instantly transported to your younger self, so full of admiration for him. Looking up to him- both physically and figuratively. He’s in a black tee and baggy jeans, looking laid back and nonchalant. Except, you know better. His nose is twitching, a tell that he’s actually a bit nervous. He’s grown into his face. His eyes are just as bright as you remember them. You’re happy to see that his spark isn’t gone. Then, that fondness twists into something hot- liquid and molten at the pit of your stomach. You wash away your distorted reverie, stepping back into your body.

You see Beomgyu eye the archway of the living room. The height markings have been painted over.

“What are you doing here?” you ask. It’s all you can bring yourself to say. There’s a bite to your tone, one that you don’t expend much effort concealing, and Beomgyu looks visibly wounded. He quickly recovers, scrunching his nose as he takes your anger on the chin.

“I was in the neighborhood.”

You hear shuffling behind you and turn to see your mother gathering her belongings. “I’m gonna head to the grocery store. Forgot to get bacon to go with the pancakes.” She grabs her purse and walks to the entryway. “Put the pancake batter in the fridge. Beomgyu, you know you’re always welcome here. Be good, kiddos.”

When she exits, the door slamming with such finality that it rattles your bones, you stand there in silence. No words are exchanged, but his eyes are saying so much. They’re swirling with a mixture of hurt, embarrassment and yearning. You look away.

“I’m sorry,” Beomgyu says. “I really am.”

You want to speak, but the words never come. Not when you need them most. Regardless, Beomgyu isn’t one to back down. “I wanted to see you. I’ve missed-”

“Don’t,” you say, cutting him off. More silence follows.

Beomgyu pivots. “Is the treehouse still in the backyard?”

“Yeah,” you say carefully. Your voice sounds like it's running away from you. “Haven’t been in it in years.”

“Wanna check it out?” he asks with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

When you climb into the treehouse, your heart lurches. It’s a time capsule- a snapshot of forgotten dreams and naivete. There’s a dusty toy box, likely rusted shut from lack of use. In the corner is a pile of blankets and pillows. A few chairs are stacked in the far back, and fairy lights are still strung to the ceiling. On the walls are your drawings, fantasies of princes and princesses rendered in waxy crayon. It instantly brings tears to your eyes.

“Needs sweeping,” you say, sniffling.

Beomgyu chuckles. “The queen doesn’t keep her castle clean. Shocker.”

You scoff. “Can’t manage the kingdom on my own.”

“Prince and Queen are very different roles, you know,” Beomgyu jokes back.

“Well, you didn’t want to be my king, clearly.”

Beomgyu again takes your jab in stride, shrugging it off. “Going for jester instead nowadays.”

After exploring the treehouse a bit more, Beomgyu positions the chairs in a triangular formation. He whacks the dust off the blankets, and drapes them over. Then, he climbs under the fort, placing another blanket underneath. He adds some pillows and settles there, motioning for you to join him. You shake your head.

“Oh come on, _______. Get in here.”

“Fine.” You enter the pillow fort and lay on your back next to him.

“Look what I found,” says Beomgyu. From behind him, he takes out a paper crown- the same one from your wistful memory. “Here.” He places the crown on your head and it fits perfectly. As he does so, he looks directly in your eyes, a blush appearing on his cheeks and nose. His hair is slightly damp with sweat. The humid heat of summer drapes over the entire room, intensified by the tiny shelter under which the two of you lay.

“How’s college?” you ask.

“Fine. Soobin stays on my ass, not that I get into much trouble anyway.”

“You’re in a band, right?”

Beomgyu makes a face at you and you flush. You could’ve sworn he told you about the band before he left. He used to talk your ear off about his dreams of joining one. You had seen some pictures on Instagram of Beomgyu and a few of his friends playing shows at random dive bars in their little college town. Now he knows you check his page periodically.

“Stalker.”

“Loser.”

“Wow. Great comeback, stalker.”

“I’m not a stalker.”

“Whatever you say, weirdo.” You smack his arm. “But to answer the question you totally don’t know the answer to; Yes. I’m in a band. You’ll have to meet the guys one day. You won’t believe how tall Kai has gotten. And there’s this guy, Yeonjun- the girls go crazy over him.”

“What about you?” you continue. “Do people go crazy over you?’

“Not anyone I care about.”

You turn on your side to face Beomgyu, your noses so close they almost touch. His hair falls over his eyes, long and floppy. He’s grown so much. You wish you were there to see the bags under his eyes form. To see his smile lines deepen and shoulders grow broader. You subconsciously reach to sweep a few strands of hair out of his eyes, tucking the tendrils behind his ear, and admire his pretty face.

“You actually look more like a prince than a rock star,” you muse.

“Not a rock star. I’m just in a band. Which you already knew.”

“I actually hate you.” Beomgyu laughs, eyes forming half moons.

Your mind is racing. You have so many questions to ask him- questions you thought you’d never get the answers to. He’s here, real and tangible, and you’re terrified that he’s an apparition- that at any moment, you’ll wake up and realize you’ve been dreaming. You try your best to not impose your own wants onto him, but all you can see is the little boy to whom you divulged all your secrets. Now, you want nothing more than to run away from him, as quickly and as far as possible, so that he can feel what you felt so many years ago.

“Why’d you leave without telling me?” The words leave your mouth before you can even register that you’re speaking.

“I’m not good at goodbyes.” Beomgyu attempts to chuckle it off, always trying to confront his shortcomings with some type of levity. His smirk is more like a pained grimace.

Your voice is barely above a whisper. “Doesn’t make it hurt any less,” you confess. “You were my best friend, Beomgyu.”

“If you had told me to stay with you, I would’ve in a heartbeat.”

“I wouldn’t have given you an ultimatum. I always knew you wanted to go to a bigger school with more opportunities.” You’re exasperated, pinching your nose bridge in annoyance.

“I know, but if you had even suggested it-”

“Well, I didn’t! I didn’t do anything but support you, Gyu- like I always have! And you punished me for it.”

Unlike your childhood, the memory of Beomgyu leaving is burned onto the back of your eyelids. When you close your eyes, you see it so vividly:

You had just graduated highschool. You and Beomgyu had agreed to meet in your treehouse right after the ceremony. He was the first person you wanted to celebrate with. You biked all the way home, still in your cap and gown, feverishly pedaling down the streets of your neighborhood. The town was ablaze with elation. Music blared in the streets and confetti littered the ground.

When you arrived, you threw your bike to the ground, not even bothering to prop it up on its kickstand. You climbed up into the treehouse, only to find it empty. You checked your phone. No messages from Beomgyu. You figured he had forgotten. You mounted your bike and made your way to Beomgyu’s house a few blocks over. In his bedroom window, you saw a girl caressing his face- similarly to how you would when Beomgyu was sad. She fluttered her lashes at him and placed a chaste kiss to his lips. You recognize the twisting of your gut as jealousy.

When did Beomgyu slip from your grasp? Did he fall in love with her while you fell in love with a hypothetical- shimmering potentiality providing you comfort as you accepted the inevitably of your separation. Three months of summer together, then what? You’d confess your love for him and ruin the near decade of friendship your relationship boasted? It was a risk you weren’t willing to take, so you held the secret close to your chest, to wither away with the rest of your forgotten dreams.

Your vision whites out, fuzzy and blurred. You end up walking your bike home and crying for the rest of the day. In the following weeks, Beomgyu didn’t call, visit or even send you a text.

You tried one more time, the night before you drove up to campus, to see him, knocking on his door four times. His mother answered, looking at you solemnly.

“Hi, Mrs. Choi! Is Beomgyu here?”

“No, he left for school last weekend darling.” she had said. You felt the soft spot in your heart for Bomegyu harden, and walked home in the cold.

Your body jolts back to the present and you realize you might’ve never moved on from this day. Beomgyu shakes you from the thought, wiping a tear from your cheek. “I’m sorry, _______,” he whispers.

You take the crown off of your head, giving it to Beomgyu. “I… admired you so much back then, even though I’d never admit it,” you say. “I wanted to be just like you. Now we couldn’t be more different.”

“Maybe that’s a good thing. Maybe we can get to know each other as we are now,” Beomgyu suggests. Always hopeful, never one to play the pessimist. It’s one of things you loved about him most. “It’ll be a new adventure for us both.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

“I admired you too, by the way,” he adds. “I wanted to be as headstrong as you. Do you still draw? Do you still want to be an artist?” Beomgyu looks at you with wild curiosity. It’s like you’re meeting him for the first time all over again.

“Yes, and yes. You thought I was headstrong?”

“You’re the only person who put up with my bullshit. So, yeah. Very headstrong.”

Suddenly, your stomach growls. Loudly. Beomgyu stifles a laugh and asks, “Wanna cook up those pancakes?”

In the kitchen, you wait until bubbles rise to the top and flip the pancakes accordingly. Beomgyu rummages through the fridge, pouring two glasses of orange juice. You sit at the dining table, side by side.

“I have a confession to make,” Beomgyu says. “I hate blueberries. I ate them because you like them.”

You gasp. “Gyu! I would’ve lived without the damn blueberries!”

“I’ll just eat around them,” he says with a smile.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“You love it.”

“Whatever,” you mumble under your breath.

You take a bite of your pancake, a blueberry bursting in your mouth. As you eat, you help Beomgyu pick around the blueberries in his. When done with your meal, the two of you wash dishes. He washes and you rinse. The sloshing of water and clinking of dishes orchestrate your movements. You catch up with one another while cleaning, joking around like you used to. Out of nowhere, Beomgyu plops a cluster of bubbles onto your nose.

“You did not!” you exclaim, immediately repaying the favor by throwing suds back at him.Then, there’s bubbles everywhere, flying and floating in the air like dandelion fluff.

“I absolutely just did, loser!” Beomgyu says, chasing you around the kitchen with more bubble ammo.

“Nerd!” you yell out as you run away from his attack.

“Stalker!”

“I am not a stalker!!!” In your tizzy, you slip and fall on some soap, Beomgyu promptly falling on top of you right after. Hovering above you, he bores into your visage fondly, deep eyes sparkling with affection. He looks like a dream. Then, like in some of your dreams, he leans down and kisses you. He takes his time, gently moving against you. It takes a second for your body to catch up with your mind, but when you do, you’re kissing him with the fervor of three years, four knocks, a lifetime of shared pancakes and the burgeoning of unabashed love. He cradles your face closely, not wanting to let you go.

When he comes up for air, Beomgyu says, “It’s a good thing saying goodbye isn’t really my thing, ‘cus I have no intention of saying it to you any time soon.”

As Beomgyu leans back in to kiss you again, the front door swings open.

“The grocery store was a madhouse, but I managed to get some bacon,” your mom says. “Oh! Oh, I didn’t–” She closes her eyes dramatically, dropping her shopping bag on the floor.

You and Beomgyu instantly stand to your feet, putting as much distance in between you as possible.

“Mom, please don’t make it awkward,” you groan.

“I mean, I always had my suspicions, but–” she starts.

“Mom! Please!”

Your mother smiles knowingly. “So I guess this means you two made up?”

a/n: unedited + feedback is always appreciated!

#bloodmoonmuses #beomgyu fic #choi beomgyu #txt fic #beomgyu x reader #txt imagines #txt x reader #beomgyu fluff

274 notes · View notes

myymi · 3 months

Text

“So, how's it feel to be the errand boy for once, Dread?” The echidna rolled his eyes before turning to give the bat an unimpressed frown.

“Shut yer mouth, Batten.” He grumbled, turning his attention back to the tree he was climbing. The woman snorted but ended up flying away to look for the little fox that came with them to the small island.

Once he collected the three coconuts this tree held, he looked around the island to try and get a glimpse of yellow or white fur.

He stiffened when something smacked into the back of his head, quickly turning to look behind him. He could see Batten waving him over, a certain glint in her eyes he wasn't used to seeing.

With a frown, Dread jumped down from the tree and ran over to where his fri– crewmate was. Batten pulled him behind a rock when he was close enough, motioning to keep his voice down.

“What's wrong with ye?” He whispered, raising a brow when the bat carefully peeked around the rock they were crouched behind.

“Look.” She nodded her head to tell Dread to take a peek himself. When he did, he figured he was seeing things.

He was pretty sure Sonic went back to his home.

“Who is that?” He asked as he ducked back behind the rock. It couldn't be Sonic, could it?

“Not sure.” Batten mumbled as she turned to face Dread. “I saw Sails with him.”

Dread felt even more confused now. Sails didn't go up to strangers without the crew with him. Was he fooled by this landlubber’s disguise?

The surge of anger that passed through his nerves at the thought of the youngest crewmate being hurt by this landlubber was a strange feeling, but he welcomed it.

He found he actually enjoyed protecting the crew. For once, it seemed to be more important than any treasure in the sea.

Dread drew his sword as he peeked out from the rock once again, surprised to see that the hedgehog was gone.

He slowly rose to his full height, eyes darting all around the surrounding area to try and locate the stranger. Batten stood up with him, carefully wrapping a hand around her own sword.

Dread nearly jumped out of his skin when a finger tapped his shoulder. He quickly whipped around, making sure to keep Batten behind him as he aimed his sword at whoever touched him.

Sails raised a brow at the echidna's actions, his head tilted to the side in confusion.

“Sails?” Batten asked, equally as confused as the little fox. Her eyes carefully scanned over the fox, looking for any injuries as his mechanical arm slowly lowered the sword pointed at his face.

“Aye, lad.” Dread sighed heavily, resheathing his sword, “Where'd ye go?”

“Just over there,” The kit jabbed his thumb to the right, exactly where that landlubber was standing moments ago.

Just as the echidna was about to ask the fox about the hedgehog, the stranger appeared at the youngest’s side. He had a lazy grin on his muzzle as he threw an arm around the other's shoulder.

“Get yer paws off Sails, ye landlubber!” Batten growled, pulling out her sword but refraining from pointing it at the hedgehog just yet.

Sails and the hedgehog seemed to exchange a glance at that, “Uh, it's alright, Batten.”

“What’d ye mean is alright?” Dread asked, glaring at the hedgehog. He was very quiet, “That ain't Sonic, Sails.”

“I know he ain't Sonic, Dread.” The fox rolled his eyes, gesturing to the mobian leaning against him, “His name's Tonic.”

“Tonic?” Batten questioned, the grip on her sword tightening.

Sails nodded, a paw resting on his hip as the hedgehog gave them a two finger salute. “He ain't sure how he washed up here, but he has no way to find his crew. Figured we could go ask Captain Rose if there's anything we can do for ‘em.”

“Are ye sure, Sails?” Batten looked down to the fox, her pose relaxing slightly when she saw how calm he was.

“He ain't gonna hurt us.” The kit argued, ending the conversation by walking away. Tonic was behind the fox immediately, not caring to stick around the bat and echidna without him.

“We're gonna keep an eye on tha’ one, right?” Batten crossed her arms as she looked over to Dread. The echidna nodded with a frown, not taking his eyes away from the hedgehog.

He didn't trust him. But Sails did, and he knows that kid has a harder time trusting people than anyone else abroad Angel's Voyage 2.0.

Black Rose might give him a chance for Sails, but he's absolutely done for if he does anything to hurt the fox.

It had become an unspoken rule between the crew after they had finally learned the full extent of the kit’s past.

Sails was their number one priority now.

127 notes · View notes

lumpsbumpsandwhumps · 3 months

Note

uhh good old fashioned forced to kneel (maybe in front of a mafia boss after failing a job), maybe pistol whipping involved

hehehehehe

It was useless to struggle. You knew it was useless to struggle. You struggled many times in the past and had never been able to make the man budge once, so why you thought this time would be any different was wasted effort on your part. Still, you couldn't help the instinctual need to fight against the thick arm coiled around your waist that dragged you deeper into the underground vault.

I've gotten you approved for a transfer to one of our sister locations, your former manager said. It's in a higher end district so there's tighter safety measures in place, she said. You won't need to let that fear hold you back again, she said.

In her defense, she couldn't have possibly been able to be able to predict just two months later this bank would also be targeted. By the same group of men, no less. Well, you assumed they were the same, based off the similar physiques and coordinated masks. Skullface and his vintage Halloween counterparts were absent this time, instead being replaced with plastic faces of dog breeds. You were currently experiencing the joy yet again of being manhandled by Rottweiler and you had no doubt his bite would be worse than his bark.

As soon as you were escorted into the vault meant to store customers' safety deposit boxes, the arm hauling you along dropped to let you stumble. Thankfully, only your wrists were bound in zipties, leaving your wobbly legs to hightail it back towards the entrance before the collar of your shirt was seized. With a grunt, you were thrown against one of the metal tables, taking the brunt of the impact with your hip. You were caged in between thick limbs on either side, allowing the robber to crowd your space and practically swallow you whole with his massive build.

This close, you could smell the gunpowder and ash that clung to his jacket. Somewhere deep within the caverns of the mask's eyeholes, you might have been able to catch a wisp of pale lashes. But you weren't too concerned with that right now, not when you knew good and well that you had earned the ire of a dangerous man.

"What the fuck was that?" he hissed, having to lean down to accommodate for the difference in height. You could only curve your back so far against the blunt edge of the table to make distance.

Initially, you weren't going to give him the satisfaction of an answer. Not that you didn't want to, of course; a scathing fuck you burning on the tip of your tongue. You were smart enough to know that a tiger would only tolerate being poked so many times with a stick. The fact that you tried to sabotage the dye packs when his back was turned was more akin to jabbing a stick straight into its eye. It was a miracle you weren't shot dead then and there.

Your lack of response was grinding further on his nerves, made evident when his gloved hand grabbed you by the jaw. His fingers dug into the hollows of your cheeks, sure to leave little purple bruises around the outline of your teeth. The last time he held your face like this was to forcefully pucker your lips, now free of their gag, to share a mock kiss between you and the plastic mouth of his skull mask before your were shoved out of a moving getaway vehicle. A quick peck probably wasn't on his mind right now, though.

"No, really," he insisted with the same, clipped edge in his tone, "I want to know what the fuck was going on inside that empty little head of your's to think that was a good idea."

Even with your face being squeezed, you managed to talk around his fingers, hoping that your matching glare would make up for any slurred speech. "Would'a made y' eas'er t'catch."

Oh, if masks could speak, there was no doubt the Rottweiler sharing his face would be latching its teeth around your throat with a snarl. In fact, you almost thought that was what the criminal was rearing to do when he briefly freed you from your prison to straighten his stance. No sooner had those arms released you was one swinging down from your peripheral, too fast for you to consider dodging. The butt of his gun cracked against your cheekbone, your teeth cutting against your already bruising flesh and threatening to loosen from the gums completely.

The pain took a few seconds to register after the initial hit. For a moment, you worried that you had been shot rather than pistol whipped with how your vision flashed white and your were deafened by the ringing in your ears. A moment later and a fiery ache bloomed across the entire left side of your face. Pain throbbed with each heartbeat that echoed in your head, tingling from the roots of your teeth and the expanse of your lower jaw, only tapering out somewhat under your eye.

Blood welled on your tongue, thick and bitter, from a cut or something broken you couldn't be certain of yet. Not only had you been rendered speechless by the agony coursing red hot under your skin, but the knock to the head was more than enough to make your knees buckle in a dizzying daze. You tipped forward, almost about to faceplant right into Rottweiler's bulletproof vest, but instead he let you stumble hard onto your knees in front of him. Well, at least being on the partially on the floor meant you didn't have to mind where the glob of saliva and blood landed when you spat it out.

You couldn't help but groan, not sure if your swollen tongue would be able to make anything else coherent enough. What was there to say, anyways? More taunts, a string of expletives, apologies meant to plead for forgiveness? There was nothing you could think of with how your thoughts were too rattled in your brain. Nothing worth the pain of opening and closing your mouth with cracked teeth, that is.

Leather fingers buried themselves deep in your hair, grasping at the roots to ensure a tight hold when they yanked your head up and back. You gasped, a sudden wave of nausea hitting you just as hard as the glock had. Stars had to be rapidly blinked away before your vision could focus on the Rottweiler staring down at you. If he wanted to, he would be able to snap your neck with just a flick of his wrist. Hell, he could have always done that whenever he wanted to, just as he could have shot you or stabbed you or strangled you at any point of your hostageship. Both current and previous.

But he didn't, even when you knew you deserved it. Even when you knew other innocent bystanders had suffered for lesser, if any, infringements during a heist.

Again, the gun made its appearance out of the corner of your eye, taunting your with its proximity. Rather than bash the other side of your face to even out the damage, the cool metal of the barrel pressed sharply to the cheek that was just assaulted. The molar under it shifted, causing your eyes to water. You really hoped the dental insurance your employer offered covered this kind of work.

"If you didn't look so good on your knees, I'd pull the trigger," the robber sneered. If your face wasn't already burning with pain, it would be running twice as hot with shame. "Now don't make me find a better use for that mouth, love."

Tomorrow sounded like a good day to call out sick.

46 notes · View notes

lets-try-some-writing · 7 months

Note

Had a thought for your seeker knockout AU:

Knockout sees Bee fall into the Cybermatter and get his voice back. Knockout wonders. "What if..." But sits on the question for too long and now he's trying to make own cybermatter to get his wings back.

Alternatively....

There's just enough cybermatter left over from the dump into Cybertron's core for Knockout to take a quick dip... And he becomes a triple changer and has to relearn his t-cog.

YES. This is an excellent idea right here. Time for Knockout to get his wings back.

Previous part here.

━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙ ━━━━━━━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙

Knockout once called the skies his home. It was his safe haven, his place of purpose and peace. When his wings were taken from him, he was quite frankly sparkbroken. He adored the skies and the ability to soar through them, but he did not allow that pain to show. He needed to stay alive, and the only way to do that amongst Decepticons was to keep composure at all times. He thought the chance to regain what he had was gone...

But seeing Bumblebee emerge restored from the Cybermatter... Knockout wanted to hope. Before he could be stopped, he scooped up a small portion of the Cybermatter in a vial and tucked it away, allowing the Autobots to do with the restored Omega Lock as they wished. At that point, he didn't care what they decided to do, he had more important possibilities to see to. Now he was no scientist, but he didn't need to be to have an idea of what to do with the Cybermatter.

Quietly, as the Autobots directed the Nemesis toward Cybertron, Knockout retreated to his quarters and readied himself for what would either make or break him. He was no fool, he knew this could go horribly wrong or fantastically right. Thus he kept a commlink ready to be activated and call Ratchet. No matter how much he disliked his fellow medic at times, medics stick together. If things got bad, Knockout wanted to have a fellow doctor on hand. As such as he sat down on a medical berth and loaded the vile into a syringe, he could only take a few deep vents and steady himself.

In one swift motion, he jabbed the needle into the crux of his neck where he knew there was a fuel line that once ran directly to his wings. At first, he felt nothing as the cybermatter entered his body. His constant scans revealed nothing out of the ordinary save for hyperactive repair nanites, and so with a heavy spark after a few groons of waiting with no notable results, Knockout retired to his berth. He shouldn't have expected anything, he had been without wings since the height of the war. It was foolish to hope...

At least that's what he told himself up until he woke in the middle of his recharge cycle in agony.

He couldn't scream, he could hardly even move as he rolled onto his side and shook in silent torment as it felt as though his frame were burning, melting, and being reforged all at the same time. He wasn't sure how long he laid there, but at some point someone must have gotten concerned as eventually Ratchet busted down his door and had him moved to the medical bay. Knockout was largely unconscious for the latter half of whatever it was that was happening to him. However when he woke again, his frame felt... different. Flight protocols that hadn't been used in vorns were awakening.

He didn't cry, he didn't even twitch when he sat up, stared straight at the nearest wall, and felt what he knew to be wings. It took Ratchet nearly beating him upset the helm with a wrench for being so careless for him to really comprehend what happened. He could only sit there, flexing his restored appendages with a growing smile and wide optics. It felt like a dream, especially when he looked into the mirror and saw that the Cybermatter had not just restored his wings, but also his frame. He was restored entirely. He wasn't half bad as a grounder, he took care to ensure that. Even still, having his true flight capable frame back was simply put, a miracle.

Ratchet: YOU FOOL! Do you have ANY idea how dangerous using Cybermatter like that was!?

Knockout: I am well aware Doc.

Ratchet: You certainly don't sound like it!

Knockout: ...

Ratchet: ...

Knockout: ...

Ratchet, sighing deeply: Look, it was dangerous, but... I am glad to see you got your wings back. I cannot imagine how difficult it was to manage living as a grounder.

Knockout was largely confined to the medical bay as his wings continued to develop. The bare essentials were there, but the plating and protoform was still taking time to develop. Against the expectations of the entire team once they learned of Knockout's actions, he stayed put. In fact he took his recovery and restoration far more seriously than even his duties as a Doctor. Every waking moment he spent dutifully tending to his precious wings and practicing flexing the cabling and activating the still sputtering thrusters that were making themselves known on his back.

By the time the team arrived on Cybertron, Knockout was more than ready. Fear lingered at the back of his processors, causing him to hesitate as he stood on the deck of the Nemesis, a few flight capable vehicons by his side to catch him if things went south. Optimus himself was also present, keeping a vague optic on the scenario as he worked on something or other. As such with a fearful vent and a prayer to Breakdown to watch over him, Knockout threw himself over the edge, begging his instinctual coding to take control.

He fell like a bag of bolts for a few dozen feet, and then just as he was starting to fear for his life, age old codes activated. However instead of wheels spinning and dirt beneath his frame, he felt the current rushing past his wings as his vision warped and he graced the skies for the first time in millennia. Never before had Knockout laughed so joyfully, nor had he ever stayed in the skies for as long as he did that cycle. He only returned to the Nemesis when his wings burned from the exertion and his spark fluttered with too much emotion to be contained.

The team congratulated him on his restoration, but to Knockout it meant very little as he returned to his quarters, and collected a small picture from his berthside table.

"I did it Breakdown. I promised you I would fly again."

#transformers #maccadam #transformers prime #team prime #knockout #flier knockout #alternate universe #light angst #post war cybertron #and now Knockout can fly #oh boy he is going to make the most of it #unaware mecha beware #glitter from the skies may be your fate

89 notes · View notes

canaidliafail · 1 year

Text

angels like you

Abby x f!reader 🌿

less than 1k words. Short and sweet sorta, mainly worshipping each other. has sexual themes so MDI

Her rough calloused fingers kept a steady pace, hitting your spot sweetly, bringing you down from yet another orgasm while she basked in your beauty. Your hair sticking to your face and the sweat between your chest glistening and highlighting the contrasts of your body.

You softly moaned her name, as it spilled out of your lips again and again like a prayer. She kissed you, swallowing every soft gasp and little whimper that you had left in you for her as she finally found it fit to pull out and gently lay you on your shared bed. She didn't try to part ways, your lips still connected in a painfully slow and sensual kiss.

Abby knew she wasn't good with words but she hoped that every night that the two of you spent together was loud enough to convey her feelings for you. How she ached for your attention and how every look across the cafeteria directed her way made her leap in joy. Abby Anderson thought she would never find someone to love her. Never dwelled on it past the obvious fact that she was undeserving of it.

And if that wasn't the truth, no one else seemed to stop her from believing it, no they made sure she knew she was spiteful. But not you. You showed her how wrong they were.

“Mean? Abby is not mean!” You jokingly said the day you two met. It was one of manny’s shitty parties that included alcohol and card games. Owen was taking Jabs at Abby as per usual and you were clueless to the situation. You were a fresh recruit back then. Barely a month old. But hell, you were stubborn and you would always speak your mind even when everyone wished you would keep quiet

Owen laughed “Oh what do you know”

“A lot more than you lil guy” You barked playfully and rose to your full height which wasn't much but man did you make it seem like it was.

Abby grabbed your shoulder sympathetically “No need to defend me. He is right you know”

“But he isn’t. I've seen you Abs. You are a very gentle person actually” and the warmth in your tone and eyes made her shiver, She pulled her hand back abruptly and you not knowing what bomb you just dropped left to join another game.

When you started dating she approached the subject again, still insecure. Still loathing herself

You kissed her and wrapped your arms around her shoulders.

“You just are Abs. See some people were hardened by this life. We find it fun even to a certain extent. A game of who cleared the most infected but not you Abs. You are still very human”

You had noticed her fear of heights and how timid her movements were. How in group settings she seemed awkward and wrongfully self aware. She was shy, delicate even so her way of hiding was through a thick layer of muscles and guns. Worked for others, but you saw beneath all that

And she feared that she was tainting you. Like she held a piece of eden in her arms and it was getting corrupted with every touch. She looked as you laid languid and soft from sex, nuzzling her chest, your bodies flush against each other and she buried her fingers in your hair kissing the top of your head affectionately. Possessively.

She didn't deserve you. But if you were sent her way, she would do everything within her abilities to treasure you and love you for as long as you were willing to have her.

#abby anderson #abby x reader #abby anderson x reader

261 notes · View notes

rosys-fans-fics · 2 months

Note

just thinking about gortash and his bf/pet dragonborn durge. gort thinks of durge as a stray that slinks in whenever he likes, though the disgusting sewage pipes or through his window at the top of wyrms rock, with mysterious dagger sized holes thoughout the fortresses' walls. while he doesnt appreciate the body parts lovingly strewn around his office of various nobles(that hes probably slept with), he warms up to the scaled tail curling around his shoulders. with enough praising words against their face and his gauntlet trailing against them, gortash is able to once in a while specify their next target

Durge is definitely the local street cat who's claimed Gortash's house as theirs! I have a little fic that's been sitting in my drafts for too long so this is the perfect opportunity to post it!

tw for dead body and bone breaking.

Gortash left the mansion of one of his many lovers in the upper city to begin his long walk back home in the lower city. The lady had given him one of her family rings, a beautiful gold band decorated with a rainbow of precious gems. The ring was worth more than her entire mansion but Gortash was great at getting what he wanted from his lovers.

As he approached his house, he noticed the window to his room was ajar. A clear sign that his little assassin was here and wanted him to know it. He sighed as he walked up to his room, prepared for whatever horrors his little Bhaalspawn had to discuss. Gortash pushed his door open only for it to be stopped by a large object. He looked down and saw through the slit of the door that a body was laying on his floor. Gortash groaned at the thought of scrubbing blood from the wood. He pushed against the door harder, moving the body back just enough for him to slip inside.

The Dragonborn sat atop his desk, their knife delicately removing any remaining flesh from a large bone. Their head was lowered, too engrossed in their ghoulish work to notice him or, more likely, feigning ignorance of his presence. Gortash cleared his throat, and their head darted up to look at him. Their eyes were filled with pure contempt as they glared at him.

“What do I owe the pleasure and the present,” Gortash nudged the dead body with his foot, “to, my dear assassin?” Gortash looked down at the body to see who they'd dragged into his room. It took a moment to recognize the woman through all the blood and guts spilled, but he realized it was the noblewoman he had just spent the evening with. Gortash looked back at his little assassin and quirked a brow, “bit of a waste of an ally.”

That seemed to get to them. They gripped the bone tightly in both hands, breaking it with the ease a child breaks a stick.

"Ally? Is that what she is? What does her alliance bring you, Banite?" the bone fell from their claws, striking the floor with a deafening thud. The Dragonborn stood to their full height. Their delicately arched horns just scrapped the ceiling. Despite their impressive size, each footstep was silent. They towered over Gortash, their piercing eyes staring into his soul, laying him bare and devouring everything he could offer them.

"Her family has deep pockets. I make more spending a night in her bed than I do smuggling weapons," Gortash raised his hand with the elaborate gold ring, "it was an easy arrangement. Hard to find someone so willing to drop family heirlooms."

"I want to amend our alliance." the Dragonborn said.

Gortash quirked a brow, "What do you have in mind?"

The dragonborn pressed the tip of a claw into Gortash's chest. He wondered if they could feel his racing heartbeat. "Your alliances with nobles are for political gain alone," they turned the claw around to point at themselves, "Our alliance will now include funding. Understood?"

Gortash chuckled, "Is my dear Bhaalspawn jealous of my bed warmers?"

The jab did nothing to their stony exterior, not even a flicker of their intense eyes. The Bhaalspawn reached behind them into their pouch and pulled out a handful of jewels. Gortash recognized them immediately, he had just earlier that night persuaded his companion to part with one of her many accessories. The dragonborn held centuries of conquest, politics, and success in their claws.

Enver reached out to touch one of the pieces only for the Bhaalspawn to grip his wrist with their spare hand. "Do you swear to our new alliance Enver Gortash, Chosen of Bane?"

Gods, they were magnificent, "I do, I swear to you, Chosen and Child of Bhaal" They placed the priceless treasure into Enver's hand. Their touch lingered as they guided his hands to tightly hold the jewels.

The Dragonborn quickly stepped away from Gortash, causing the floor to squeak. They grabbed the mangled corpse that was at their feet and threw it over their shoulder. Without another word or glance in his direction, they left.

Enver placed the jewels on his desk and laid down in his bed. His heart raced but he wouldn't say if it was from seeing the corpse, the incalculable amount of wealth, or the Dragonborn offering so much for so little.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 gortash #enver gortash #durgetash #gortash x durge #bg3 durge #bg3 the dark urge #tw blood #tw corpse

28 notes · View notes

shhh-secret-time · 1 month

Text

We're back with another Soulmate AU request AND another request from AO3, they're so rare these days! I wanted to do something special for Craig, I kind of feel like he'd be a fuck destiny kinda guy. Anyway y'all know the drill.

Warning: Hot Pokemon takes, Strong-Language, Clyde being a dork again

Pairing: Craig x GN!Reader

Crack

"Hm.."

Snap

"Dude. Stop."

Pop

"Dude! Stop!"

Clyde's voice pulls Craig's gaze over, the bored expression on his face would normally make anyone flinch back but Clyde's used to the look. Years of friendship with the stoic man will desensitize anyone to that kind of look. Craig swears it's just because Clyde's an idiot, no one else in South Park takes that kind of tone with him.

"You sound like a glow-stick over there! I swear you've already popped all those fingers a minute ago, are you on your knuckles now or something?" Clyde puts his DS down on his lap with a grumble.

He's slouched so far down on Craig's couch it looks like he's melting into it, the lower half of his body is barely on the couch at all. He's all but holding himself up with his legs while his back rests on the firm cushions beneath him. He looked like a slinky being tossed down the stairs, but if it got stuck going down a step.

"You're in my house." Craig responded so matter of fact.

Then he finished cracking the hand he was in the middle of working on. He presses his thumb against each finger on his hand. Once each little finger makes that satisfying sound, he wraps his hand around the other and squeezes. His thumb and index finger settle just below the knuckles, feeling the muscles and bone shift under his grip a shiver runs down his spine.

"Gaaaaaah! That doesn't hurt you? You're gonna fuck up your hands man." Clyde physically squirms at the sound, twisting and rolling back and forth as if he's trying to escape the sound.

"No. I like it." Craig picks his DS up from his lap and continues playing on the little handheld device.

"Alright but when you have old grandpa hands at the age of twenty-five don't come crying to me. Spongebob broken finger head-ass." Clyde smirks, returning to the game with his friend.

Craig side eyes him, shooting a small glare his direction but it goes unnoticed. Once again, Clyde is lucky he's one of his best friends. Being stupid makes you brave apparently.

The two fall into a comfortable silence, the music from Clyde's DS playing loudly while Craig's is shut off. The sound of both games going on at once drove Craig mad. If the music didn't line up it felt like someone jabbing him in the head. So, he settled for listening to Clyde's, he knew the brown-haired man liked the Pokemon sound track anyway. A small tradition they started in middle school that's held up. Playing Pokemon next to each other on the weekends, if one got Green the other got Red. If one got Sapphire, the other got Ruby. Right now, Craig has Diamond, and he has Pearl.

Craig was no means a perfectionist, but something about the incomplete Pokedex drove him mad. He hated looking at the black silhouette of a Pokemon uncaught, the taunting ??? made him want to spike the thing into the ground. They would spend hours next to one another talking about their teams, racing to see who could beat the Elite Four before the other, making fun of each other's favorite Pokemon. Craig long since beat the game and was just waiting on Clyde to catch up, he was still waiting on Clyde to catch his Slowpoke like he promised him forever ago.

Clyde was a Slowpoke.

He chuckles at the thought making Clyde look up at him with his brow raised but he chooses not to say anything. After a while Craig closes his DS and chooses to watch Clyde walk around the tall grass.

"You're using the Scyther I traded you?" he asks, resting his cheek on top of Clyde's head. Holding himself up right now sounded exhausting, Clyde made the perfect head rest. Even if he wasn't slumped down on the couch, their height difference allowed for it. To be fair Craig's height difference allowed him to do this to just about anyone. The only person he couldn't comfortably do this too would be Broflovski.

"Yeah! He’s my favorite! He's a handsome devil, reminds me of myself!" Clyde tucks his chin in between his index finger and his thumb, the smug smirk on his lips makes his face look stupid.

"Do you wanna evolve him? You can trade him over and we can turn him into a Scizor."

"Nah, then I'll lose all the affection I've been building him with! Look I've got two little hearts by his head! He loves me man!"

"You can build it back."

"Maybe you can toss away your Pokemon’s affection, but not me Tucker! He doesn't need to change! He's perfect the way he is!" Clyde exclaims as he throws his hand in the air.

Craig's about to respond but stops when Clyde encounters another Pokemon, a Pachirisu nothing out of the normal. But what was out of the normal was the stripe on its tail wasn't the typical baby blue, it was a bright pink. Craig's eyes widen as the sparkles swirl around the little animated creature.

And typical Clyde just button mashes through the whole thing, he's not paying attention to the DS, going on about his love for his Scyther. His thumb moves over the attack button and Craig wants to grab his hand to stop him. But once again he's not fast enough, and the low leveled thing is easily defeated by his level sixty something Pokemon.

"Um dude...you know I love hugs and all, but I thought you hated them?" Clyde's voice is muffled under Craig. Craig has him pinned under him against the couch, chest pressed into his side, arm outstretched to grab the DS.

"Dude! That was a shiny! You could have caught that!" Craig's exclaims shaking the man under him.

"What?! Oh man! I didn't know!"

"How the fuck didn't you know?! It sparkled! It's fucking pink!"

"Uh...was it?"

"What?" Craig stops shaking him at that, tightened fists around his collar loosen only slightly.

"I didn't know, you know I'm color-blind right?" Clyde takes the opportunity to sit up, he chuckles at Craig's expression.

Although rare, it's not unheard of. Craig isn't a robot, or a man born without emotions, he just has a hard time expressing them sometimes. Clyde knows that, but it's still funny every time he sees that crack in Craig's usual stoic nature. Even more so that it was over a stupid video game and Clyde's inability to see color.

So instead of responding to him Craig shakes his head and furrows his brows, confusion written clear on his face.

"Yeah man," Clyde takes a breath in between cackling. "I'm completely color blind, lost it when we were in high school. It's my soulmate thing. I see in black and white now." He waves his hand over his face with a dorky grin.

He doesn't respond at first, taking a moment to take in what his best friend was saying. "I just thought you dressed like that on purpose."

"Come on dude! Would it kill you to say something nice to me?! Just oNCE!?" Clyde smacks him with the cushion tucked behind him which Craig uses to beat him back.

After a brutal beat down using a couch cushion, Craig pulls back the weapon and looks down at the defeated pile of Donovan further pressed into his couch. He sits back with his leg pulled up towards his chest, arm thrown lazily across his knee.

"So, you can't see color because you haven't met your soulmate? That sounds rough."

"Yeah, it kinda sucks, it's gonna sound gay but I miss seeing things like the sunset and movies are kinda lame now. I still wear this jacket because at least I know it's red." Clyde collects himself and tries to fix his hair that's been flattened down.

"Hm." A low grunt and Craigs on his feet.

To anyone else it would be the end of the conversation, it would be their que to move on and talk about something else. But Clyde isn't just anyone. He's the guy who's been with Craig since they were kids, he knows that grunt. That shift in body language. Craig's uncomfortable but wants to say something.

"Come on Tucker Bear don't be like that, tell me what's going on." The nickname earns him a glare, but it stops the black haired man from going to the kitchen. He grins at him in return, telling Craig that he's getting what he wants.

"What have I told you about calling me that?"

"That you love it so much and you're so grateful that your best friend would give you the best nickname ever." The sentence is almost cut short from the way he scrambles back away from Craig, holding his hands up defensively. His voice is cracking from the way he tries to keep the giggle out of it.

Craig stops and sighs, his hands come up to the strings on the side of his hat. The frayed yellow rope splitting at the ends from how often he twists it between his fingertips. He does it when he needs to collect his thoughts, figure out a way to put them into words.

".... you didn't tell me you got your Soulmate thing." It finally comes out in a soft tone.

"Are you upset because I didn't tell you? I'm sorry man." Clyde's silly demeanor drops, quickly shifting to one that matches his friend’s tone. He stands up and follows him into the kitchen.

"No. I just..." A pause and he opens the fridge door. Scanning the inside for something to drink, his mouth is incredibly dry right now. "...didn't know. I thought you were like me."

"Like you?"

"Like...born without a mark or whatever."

"Oh."

That's all he can say, all that comes out of his mouth. Craig snaps the can of soda open and takes a sip and it feels like a rock settling in his stomach. His lips press together tasting the sugary drink on his lips. The rock in his stomach lurches up when he sees Clyde's eyes well up with tears, little beads of water spilling from his lids. For the second time that day, he makes Craig's eyes widen.

"Are you crying?"

He quickly goes to wipe the tears away from his brown eyes, the little orbs always looked like a baby cow's. Using the sleeves on his jacket, he sniffles and looks up at him. "It's just- you don't have a soulmate!"

"Yeah, I know."

"That's so sad dude!"

"I guess."

He sobs again, the tears spill faster and harder down his face. Craig sighs and gives into the over dramatic man an awkward pat on the back. The rest of the day was spent calming Clyde down and reassuring him that he wasn't actually angry at him for killing the shiny. They watch a few episodes of Red Racer where Craig describes the colors for him until he got tired of it.

All through the day the conversation gnawed at the back of his head. It followed him to bed and kept him from sleeping. Clyde refused to go home so he spent the night on the floor next to him. Didn't want to sleep on the couch but didn't want to sleep in the bed with him. Wanted to be near but not close enough to make Craig want to peel his skin off. He appreciated the idiot.

But it was that idiots fault he was thinking so hard on this. Why was he born without a soul-mate tic, or thing or whatever the fuck it was called. Were there others like him or was Craig Tucker really that just unlucky? Why did he care so much, he made it this far in life by himself. So why was it just now starting to eat at him?

With a huff he turned and rolled over towards the window next to his bed, staring up at the night sky. The moon was half full today, and it was cloudy out so he could barely see the stars. He was a grown man majoring in Astronomy, he didn't need a stupid mark to tell him where to go and who to be with. He could still see color fine. No flowers were blooming out of his face making his allergies act up.

No, it was just him. Just him and whatever was out there waiting for him. Right now, he really wanted it to be sleep.

Eventually he gave in to the tired behind his eyes, lids so heavy he couldn’t keep them open anymore but burned when he finally closed them. Clyde was gone the next morning when he finally woke up, he left him a text saying he was going to pick his sister up and do something with her.

It didn't matter he had class to get to anyway, the semester was in full swing, and he didn't have time to fall behind. As he gets ready, pulling his blue hat over his head and the matching NASA jacket over his shoulders, he peers down at his DS left on the side table. He picks it up and tucks it into the pockets of the jacket, in between classes he could wait in the lounge and play on it a little more. There wasn't much left to do but he could always grind his team to a hundred.

Once he feels ready, he steps out of his house and starts the walk to the bus stop. Ever since he moved out of his parents the walk to the college campus took a little longer than normal, so it was easier to just ride the bus there. He sticks his headphones in and settles in the worn-out seats of the dirty looking white bus. Somehow cleaner than the yellow ones from when he was still a teenager, but not by much. The music from his DS playing in his ears drowns out the sounds of people mumbling to themselves and whatever other weird thing South Park could throw at him.

It also drowns out your footsteps. Drowns out your question if the seat next to him was taken. So, it isn't until he feels you sitting next to him that he notices you're there. He side-eyes you for a moment, which you return with a little nod. A part of him is relieved when you don't immediately try to make small talk with him. Instead, you offer him a little smile and go back to the book in your hand. His eyes green eyes travel down to peek at what it is you're reading, and he's surprised when instead of a textbook he sees a comic.

Guardians of the Galaxy

From the angle you were holding it, he couldn't tell exactly what issue you were on, but the cover looked good. He cocks his head to the side a little to get a better look. Feeling his eyes on you, you look up at him and raise a brow. It takes a second, but you piece together what he's trying to do so you close the comic and show it off to him.

You're on an issue he's already read through. He removes the headphones from his ear.

"I didn't think anyone else read the Guardians series." Craig says, it's out of pocket for him to be the first to initiate but the thought of meeting someone who's a fan like him is actually exciting. It's enough to pull him out of his little mental funk.

"Yeah! I just started collecting these issues last week! Have you read this series?" You say with a smile that’s a little too bright for him.

He nods again at you, and that's where the conversation should have ended. You go back to your reading, and he goes back to his game. But it doesn't, you lean over and catch a glimpse at what he's playing. He watches the recognition sparkle up in your eyes.

"Oh, which one is that? Gen five, right?"

"Yeah. It's Diamond."

"Oh! Cool! I've got Platinum! I gotta default to the third one because I don't have friends who play the game!" You laugh at your own joke, eyes going from the DS to his.

Craig stares down at you for a while. He sets the DS in his lap and pushes the palm of his hand against his fingers. Hands popping and snapping again, the little tic making him relax. You don't comment like Clyde does, but you are still talking.

"Gen five has to be my favorite in the series! I just couldn't get into Black and White!" That makes him stop and look at you like you're crazy.

"That's the best one in the series though."

"That's what everyone tells me, but I hated the starters!"

Time slips past him, the way you pull him into the conversation so naturally. It isn't until the bus pulls up to the campus that he realizes he's been talking to you the entire time. You perk up when the bus lets out a sigh and a hiss, telling its passengers that they've reached their destination.

"Oh, this is my stop! Hey, it was awesome talking with you!" You grin and stand up, slinging your bag over your shoulder.

You give him a little finger salute and take off, you're so quick to scurry away he doesn't have time to tell you that this is his stop too. Of course he's never noticed you around campus before, Craig was never one to waste his energy on things that didn't require it. He had his select group of friends and was happy with that, but now here you were wedging your way into his mind. As he stands up to get off the bus, lazily throwing the headphones over his neck, it dawns on him that he didn't even catch your name.

Oh well, so much for that. Maybe he'd see you around.

The universe must have answered that for him because the next morning he sees you on the bus again. He watches as you push past the isle of seats and plop down next to him with another book in your hand. A different issue, a different conversation. There are days where you sit in silence doing your own thing. Then there are days where you talk his ear off and he just sits and listens, occasionally throwing in his thoughts on whatever you're talking about.

But he listens. That was new, normally he just tends to zone out if he doesn't care. Somehow you find a way to make him care, a way to make him invested in the conversation. He even goes out of his way to learn your name and what you're studying.

"Ah it's just general studies right now, a little bit of everything until I figure out what I wanna do. I wasn't even planning on going to college, it just kinda happened." You tell him leaning back in your seat.

"What, so you just woke up one day and decided that was it?" Craig scoffs a bit at the idea but the amused glint in his eyes doesn't go unnoticed by you.

"Heh. Well Mr. Space-boy not all of us know what we wanna do with life from the womb." You snicker at his reaction, tallying another eyeroll in your head.

"It's Space-Man. I'm Space-Man Craig." He corrects you before moving on, so you don't comment on the little pink hue on his face. "I get that but how do you go from I'm not going to college, to just doing it?"

You smile, it's different than the dorky one you usually shoot at him or the one when you tell a bad joke. It almost seems sad. He can't put his finger on it, but he doesn't need to wait long for you to roll up your sleeve. On your wrist is a font that looks almost like an alarm clock, the block black ink reads "0:00".

"Had this guy I was with. Was with him for six years, we were high-school sweethearts, prom date, whole nine yards. They were my soulmate, the little counter on my wrist told me that much." You take a deep breath, and he watches the way your fingers move across the skin.

He pops his fingers again, pushing them against each other.

"Well, about a year ago I realized...I kinda hated it? Hated the fact this stupid mark on my body got to dictate who I fell in love with? I mean we didn't even have anything in common, and while we never really argued we just had a different outlook on life. I think a part of me still loves him, but...I can't really love him in the way this thing wants me to." You emphasize that you're talking about the marking on your skin by holding it up.

Little rays of sunlight brush across your skin and Craig can't help but follow it. You had a soulmate, of course you did. He feels that rock in his stomach again, weighing heavier than it did last time. The week he got where he wasn't thinking about this whole thing was nice, but now that he's reminded his body tenses back up.

He cracks his fingers again, squeezing the side of the palm.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to trauma dump on you." He raises a brow at you silently asking you what you mean by that. "Call it a sixth sense, or the fact that you pop your fingers and do that little Hm when you're thinking about something. So, I figured you were annoyed by the random dump."

You were more attentive than he would have given you credit for. He hasn't known you that long and you're already picking up on things that took Clyde years to. Then again, Clyde and attentive don't really go hand in hand.

"No, it's not you. It's the..." He rolls his wrist a few times trying to find the words, fingers eventually find purchase on the strings of his hat dangling by his face. "Soul-mate thing. I don't have one."

"Ah yeah, I can see how that's a weird topic for you then! But hey that's kind of cool!" You beam up at him, the sunlight slips off your wrists and onto your lips.

Wait, what?

"You get to pick who you wanna love, that's awesome. That means the connection goes deeper! You gotta build something with someone, nothing telling you to just jump straight into a relationship! No pressure, just you and the other person!" Your eyes are like little stars as you speak. A tiny galaxy that he can't seem to pull himself out of.

Wait, what?

Like clockwork, the bus stops and you go to get up. Except this time Craig is fast enough, he takes your hand. His fingers slip into your palm and stop you from moving. Your finger salute falls back to your side. He just looks at you for a while, the only thing he can hear right now is the collection of people getting off the bus and his own heartbeat drumming in his chest.

"If you're not getting off, I need you to sit down please!" The bus driver makes you flinch and sit back down next to Craig.

"Sorry sir!" You call back.

When you look back at him with a confused look, he freezes again. His mouth hangs open for a second, only to close. He almost looks like a fish out of water from the way he's trying to collect his thoughts. Craig expects you to get back up and tell him goodbye. To run off the bus and never speak to him again.

Instead, you sit there, patiently waiting for him to collect himself. You wait there even when the door to the bus shuts and the engine kicks back on. You look at him with wonder and he has to avert his gaze from you. Pulling his hat over his eyes for a moment because he realizes he's still holding your hand and the heat coming up to his face is too much.

"I... I’m sorry. I just wanted to-" What did he want? His mind was drawing a blank, he was floating and the only teather was your hand in his.

He knew he wanted to keep holding your hand. He knows your touch doesn't bother him like it should. He wants to steal a few more moments with you because these bus rides aren't enough time. Something he's never felt before.

"You're good. Take your time." You can't know what that means to him to hear you say that. To not pull your hand away and call him a freak for just grabbing you like that. Instead, you turn your palm over and give his hand a squeeze back.

"I want to...do that." He says it. With his eyes covered so he's not blinded by that smile on your face. He can hear it in your voice, the way you chuckle.

"Do what?"

"You know what I'm trying to say."

"Maybe. You better say it just so I can be sure." You're teasing him now, leaning forward so you can get a peek at his blushing face.

Craig huffs again, frustration building up in his chest. He moves the hat from his face and stares you down like a showdown. His brows knitted together with newfound determination.

"I want to build a connection past this." There. It's out. Out in the open, out in the space between the both of you. Confession falls from his mouth in that monotone voice he's so famous for.

"Hell yeah. I'd like that Space-Man Craig." You laugh and it sounds so sweet.

He smiles down at you, and it feels like a gift. It's the first time you've seen him look at you like that. You make a silent promise to yourself that it will not be the last time you see it.

"So, any idea where the bus is going now?"

"No idea. Wanna get off at the next stop and walk to campus?"

"Nope! You stopped me from going to class so now you're taking me out. I want food!"

Craig scoffs at you and takes the headphones off his neck, he offers you the other bud. He sticks the one in his ear and pulls out his phone. His fingers slide across the screen going for the music app. He hands you the phone and gestures for you to pick something.

You excitedly take him up on the offer, sticking the bud in your ear. You begin going on about whatever album you’ve been listening to, and the whole ride he sits and listens to you. Nodding along so you know he’s listening, not that he really has to. You can tell from the way he looks at you that you have his undivided attention.

So wrapped up in the music and your voice he doesn’t even notice the font on your wrist change. It’s not that boring clock anymore, it shifts and swirls around. A moving tattoo that eventually turns into a painting melting down your arm. The deep darkness of space with a little astronaut sitting on the moon, just watching the sun.

41 notes · View notes

ashes-in-a-jar · 26 days

Note

Hi! I was just wondering, what are your thoughts on episode 100 of The Sheridan Tapes?

You’re the reason I started listening and I always went to read your post after finishing an episode, I’m kinda confused by it honestly.

(Also I only just listened to it today (April 1st) so I was surprised when they mentioned it being April Fool’s Day cause it came out on Friday.

Sorry it took me a bit to respond to this, I have a few thoughts though, not sure if I will manage to sort through them. Mostly good!

First off what a nice thing to have a horror podcast that has a happy ending for most of its characters! They sure went all out with the polycule bit even without Ned lol. I did like how some of the chemistry Rob and Peter had in previous seasons paid off with that ending! Although some elements of it felt like they came out of nowhere? At least not in a way I noticed... Either way good for them!

The April 1st thing was fun timing to end the story! Love that it coincided (kinda) with irl date.

Although the actual date they saved the world was April 1st 2020 which was at the height of the beginning of the pandemic... from the frying pan into the fire amirite? XD

Sam becoming a "documentarian" for Anna's and Maria's podcast was a nice touch, and a jab at the "archivist" trope lol

I find it interesting that he decided to do it and kinda stick to the past? It feels like he hasn't managed to move on like the others, still stuck on maybe one day returning to Allen and the good old days. I am happy that Jerry took him under his wing, I wonder what their relationship is. I found it really touching that he asked Maria and Anna if it's okay to hug them, like he's used to asking permission from living with Sam which was so 🥺🥺🥺

Sam being anxious around a lot of people and then being understanding and accommodating was really touching in general.

I don't know how I feel about the direction Ren took, the whole Source revelation rattled them I would think they would do something about it rather than continue being part of a system that they ended up clashing over... I'm not even sure how ISFA is different from ISPHA? I would have liked to see them working on something fungi related, maybe with Amanita, who is MIA from the finale...

I would like a sequel about Sam going to rescue Ned (of course) and Ren dealing with aliens in space (a story thread that was left unresolved)

And definitely hear some of Rob's antiquing vlog shenanigans xD

Anyway, might have some more thoughts and something more cohesive to say about it all but overall I loved the podcast and enjoyed the ending, it tied up a lot of the story so neatly and managed to do it with minimal casualties and with care for every character

To say I cringed when the singing started in the end would be an understatement but good for them embracing it together xD

#ask #the sheridan tapes #the sheridan tapes spoilers #sorry it took me a bit

16 notes · View notes

kataravimes-of-the-shire · 7 months

Text

This has been tickling around in my brain for months.

Room to Grow

The Archeron sisters discuss what they miss about being human.

Kinda ✨angst✨, kinda fluff

Word Count: 1226

“Do you know what I miss?” Feyre sighed wistfully.

She sat with her sisters under the glimmering glass dome of the newly erected Velaris Orangerie. They were seated around a small mosaic-covered table, a steaming pot of tea and a tiered display of cakes before them. The late morning sun gave the space a soft glow, turning all of their hair into varying shades of burnished bronze.

Nesta cocked her head eyes narrowing slightly, she could always see through Feyre’s attempts at feigning innocence, “What do you miss?”

“Stretch marks,” Feyre sighed.

Feyre looked between her sisters. Nesta’s eyebrows had shot up towards her hairline. Elain’s cup of tea had paused midway to her mouth, her petal-coloured lips parted in mild shock. This was not a conversation one had in polite society. Feyre began to scramble for a change of topic. This was still new ground. This peace with her sisters. Openness.

Feyre was about to remark upon the craftsmanship of the dome that soared away above them, or on the already spectacular height of the plants from Summer Court whose uppermost leaves just brushed the underside of the glass.

When Elain let out a small laugh and then tensed, as if bracing herself.

“They were like stripes, I used to hate them on my thighs” - she paused, Feyre met her sister’s warm brown eyes and gave her a nod of encouragement - “I loved that the fashions kept my legs covered. I used to be terrified someone would see them and realise I wasn’t all that beautiful after all.”

“I was so pleased when I finally got some, it was proof I was growing. Proof that I was healing. Or at least what I thought healing was when I was with him,” Feyre fought the temptation to curve her shoulders in towards her body. She reached for another cake, her third or was it fourth? She rarely kept stock of how much food she ate anymore. Only if she felt stressed would the habit of tracking every morsel and crumb come creeping back into her life. Rhysand had only reigned in Nesta and Cassian’s mating ceremony when he discovered her stash of bread, magicked to stay fresh, stashed at the back of their shared closet.

Nesta cleared her throat, bringing Feyre out of her memories before she spoke softly, “I had them on the curve of my breasts; they shone silver in the candlelight. They were beautiful. I always thought yours were too,” she reached out across the table to squeeze Elain’s hand. “Your looks have never been what made you truly beautiful, blossom.”

Elain’s eyes welled with tears, Feyre couldn’t help but beam as she watched her sisters share this moment. Couldn’t help but beam as Nesta reached out and took Feyre’s hand as well, and gave it a light squeeze.

“But do you know what I really miss” - Nesta seemed to shake herself out of the reverent moment she had created - “The lines I had right here,” she pointed to the smooth and flawless patch of skin between her brows.

“Frown lines you mean!” Feyre laughed, sticking her tongue out at her eldest sister. Earning her a frown unmarred by any wrinkles or creases.

“Concern lines, for all the trouble you were always getting into,” Nesta made a playful jab for Feyre’s ribs. Elain hid a snort of laughter behind her hand as she watched their antics.

Feyre delighted in her sisters’ laughter. After a moment they settled back into sipping at their tea and scattering more crumbs down the front of their outfits.

“I had a few grey hairs,” Elain added.

“I did too,” Nesta paused and looked at Feyre, her eyes narrowing in mock anger. “Don’t you dare comment on our age difference.”

“Not many,” Elain continued managing to effortlessly direct the conversation back where she wanted it before Feyre and Nesta descended into chaos once more. “But I think I was going to go grey the same way Mother had started to, before…”

Feyre had tried, and failed many times, to remember what their Mother looked like. But all she had was a sense of severity, of the length of a skirt, the smell of sickness and sometimes of lavender.

“Are either of you missing any moles?” Feyre could admit to herself that this was a last-ditch attempt to save them all from the melancholy they had unwittingly meandered into. “I used to know mine like the constellations of the night skies. I swear some are missing.”

“Oh, and scars!” Elain jolted back from wherever she had gone behind vacant eyes.

“Yes! Moles and scars. Vanished!” Nesta exclaimed. “I had little white specks across my neck and wrists from a pox I caught as a child before either of you were born, I think. Or perhaps Elain was just a babe. I would scratch them whenever Mother or the governess turned their back.”

“I had scars on my hands from learning to use a bow, from setting traps and climbing trees,” Feyre held up her hands and looked at them as if they were completely foreign objects to her. They had been at first. Unknowable.

“I had a sunburst white scar just below my knee,” Elain reached a hand below the table as if feeling for that old wound. “I can’t have been more than seven, out in the garden playing when I heard Father returning from a trip of some sort. I sprinted up the path so fast, skirts flying. You know I’ve always been clumsy, I tripped over my own feet and came down on a sharp stone lining the path.”

“Oh yes! I remember. You got straight back up and kept running. You were so desperate to see Father, he asked why you had ripped your skirts and you only burst into tears once you hiked them up and saw the blood!” Nesta’s mouth quirked up at one side as she recalled the memory.

Feyre knew that Rhys would comment on her glow as soon as she returned to the townhouse. As soon as they were alone she would gush to him about how whole it had made her feel to talk to her sisters, to hear Nesta mention their Father and not stumble over the words.

“I asked Rhys once if he had stretch marks,” Feyre looked out across the undulating meadow of the park, the sun was beginning to burn off the morning dew and the mist twirled like dancers in a ballroom. “He didn’t even know what they were.”

Nesta huffed a laugh and rolled her eyes conspiratorially, “Cassian couldn’t understand how we got scars for such minor wounds.”

Elain lack of comment about a conversation with her mate felt conspicuous. She stared down into her tea without replying to her sisters’ remarks. Feyre felt that maybe the morning had been soured once again when suddenly Elain whispered - as if to the morning sun, directed at no one in particular:

“I know they think all of these things mark out human frailty. But oh, how wonderful to have a map on your skin of everything you’ve lived through. Of everything you’ve survived.”

“Our old housekeeper once told me,” Nesta let out a wry laugh as she spoke. “Be grateful for every wrinkle, grey hair and mole. Growing old is a privilege, that not everyone gets.”

44 notes · View notes

palabraasinnecesarias · 8 months

Text

ranma/akane 814 words a morning in which ranma wakes up in another universe

Ranma hadn’t expected much out of his morning, but the usual run-through consisting of waking up just as Akane was finishing her morning run, making it a hectic morning with his usual pestering as to who would take over the bathroom first. Of course, her reasoning that he could just as easily take fifteen minutes from his sleep to hop into a shower before she finished her run only meant their daily encounter would begin in the dining table, and he didn’t know if he was ready begin in such a civilized manner when it came to her. He needed to toss a few remarks here and there to get the ball rolling, rile her up for the heck of it, receive some well-earned eyerolls and a jabbing pointing-finger accusing him to be a man-child, which was partially true in her defense.

And that morning, he did wake up just before Akane was to come in, his groggily mind phasing out as he made his way down the stairs with his towel thrown over his shoulder ready to meet the passion of fury she’d seem to enjoy hurling at him each morning (were he to reach the bathroom just before she did).

His lip twitched into a mimicking smirk as he strolled towards her, her face lightly dazzling from the many droplets of sweat sticking to her forehead and cheek just as she glanced at him. She was holding a small towel of her own, wiping the excess sweat at the nape of her neck, he figured.

Let the dance begin.

“As we’ve established before,” Ranma cleared his throat, slowly leaning down to her height as he got closer to her, “you do take longer showers, therefore, I should hop in first.”

And like clockwork, the dark-haired woman did roll her eyes, but she was also smiling at him. It was a wide smile, crooked, and almost toothy. “I’m surprised you’re not begging to hop in with me this morning,” she replied overconfidently, and he could feel a sudden lump getting stuck in between his throat as her voice softly filled the air in such an alluring way, utterly baffled at her suggestion. “But I’ll let you have it just this once.”

He looked down at her, and she was still wearing her toothy grin, as though it were some sort of fever dream. He knew he was awake, taking in the intense stare digging into his own wide eyes as he tried to find the words to reply to her. But he couldn’t and in very slow motion, her hands reached to touch his face. Her warm palms comfortably set themselves against his cheeks, cupping them tenderly and tugging him towards her just as she tip-toed her feet with the very successful attempt to clash her face with his.

She was kissing him. She was kissing him. Him. As in, she reached for him and kissed him, ever so casually, as though this was normal, and she just wanted to.

Her pecking kiss was a quick one, but her lips were pressed long enough to feel just how soft and comfortable they felt against his. And his hands twitched momentarily, urging them to wrap themselves around her back or rest against her hips to pull her closer, (and maybe he should have) but all he did was let her pull away.

She scrunched her nose softly at him as she grinned very child-like, saying too quick for his putty brain to keep up, “I like it, I want another one,” and just as easily without hesitation she pulled him for another. But this kiss was a bit more forceful, her mouth opening just a tad, her giddy smile burning and imprinting against him just before she pulled away. When she settled back to a regular stance, with her feet no longer tip-toeing, her thumb reached down to skim against his lower lip as if wiping something off. “Now hurry, we’re going to be late.”

What was going on?

“L-late?” He inquired, feeling lost and dazed, a tad disorientated at the way she was looking at him. Her eyes were wide, but soft with knitted eyebrows as she laughed quietly, jokingly flicking her finger against his shoulder, as she rolled her eyes in a very playful manner.

“Yes, for school, dummy.”

Oh, right. School.

“Now, remember,” she said to him quietly, almost like children whispering secrets as she leaned closer to him, her sweaty scent just as deliciously intoxicating as the taste of her lips, “father and Mr. Saotome still don’t know.” She pressed her extended index finger against her thin, spread smile as she squinted her eyes at him, “we’re still not telling anyone, right?”

His mouth was still very, very dry and swallowing felt like sandpaper down his throat as he nodded although he didn’t know what he was agreeing to. “R-right.”

#i should probably go to bed #we had a lockdown drill at work today and all i've been thinking about is how to make 15 kiddos fit inside a tiny bathroom #ranma 1/2 #ranma fanfiction #ranma saotome #rankane fanfiction #ranma akane #fanfiction #ranma #akane #akane tendo #ranma x akane

25 notes · View notes

theradicalscrivener · 4 months

Text

The Life and Tinies of Trevor: OnlyGlans

I started this fic aaaagggesss ago. Like, you can carbon date the first draft by the fact that it references the Jack-O challenge. I'd been wanting to revisit Trevor and friends for ages, and I was in a hardcore micro mood this past month, so I dusted this off and finished it.

(P.S. Ya boi's got Linktree and Bluesky now)

[First Chapter] || [Next Chapter]

Simon glanced up from his homework and over at the far side of the desk where Trevor was positioned in front of Simon’s cell phone – which at Trevor’s two-inch height was far larger than Trevor himself. The cell phone was mounted on a stand which kept it more or less upright so that Trevor could watch it like a movie screen, but Trevor seemed more interested in participating in what was going on on the screen as opposed to just watching.

“… what in the wide, wide world of sports are you doing?” Simon asked.

Trevor hopped up from his position and shouted up towards his colossal boyfriend so that Simon could hear, “It’s the hottest new meme,” he explained. “People all over are mimicking this fighting game pose.” He then leaned back down so his booty was in the air and his chest was down on the ground.

“Looks uncomfortable. If I was gonna mimic a pose, I’d probably stick to something like The Garfield Power Coma pose or something,” Simon commented.

Trevor once again hopped up and faced his giant boyfriend. “How boring! You won’t get any likes like that!”

“Oh? That’s your game? Gonna be internet famous? Might need to put some pants on before you go posting to TikTok, though.” Simon teased and gave Trevor’s exposed midriff a playful poke with the eraser end of his pencil.

It was supposed to be a soft jab, but with their current size disparity, it was enough to send Trevor tumbling onto his ass. After all, the pencil was bigger around than Trevor’s whole head! Getting poked with one of those was like getting bodied with a pugil stick.

However, the sudden tumble barely slowed Trevor down. He quickly hopped back up on his feet. “I… uh… guess I got a little too used to not wearing anything around the house. I didn’t even consider the clothes thing…” Trevor said with a bashful chuckle.

“Well, I for one am not complaining,” Simon said with a sly wink.

“Yeah. You would enjoy it,” Trevor replied back and returned the wink.

“TikTok might not allow you to leave the goods out, but I’m sure some other sites would be more than happy to show all of you.”

“Ha! Yeah. I can get me an OnlyFans and become the world’s tiniest porn star!” Trevor laughed.

“Then you can finally start paying rent,” Simon teased.

“Sure! I’ll only pay for the portion of the apartment that I actually use though,” Trevor replied. He then paused for a beat and asked, “Do you think you can break a penny?”

“A whole penny? You must really be expecting to rake in the big bucks,” Simon teased playfully.

“What? You don’t think I know how to work it? Get that camera rolling, and I’ll show you what I can do!”

Simon smirked and cocked an eyebrow skeptically. After a moment he shrugged and then tapped the screen of his cell phone a few times and adjusted the angle so now the screen showcased the tiny Trevor standing atop Simon’s desk.

“Well? Go on. Don’t keep your fans waiting,” Simon said.

“The site is called Only Fans for a reason! I’m nothing without my audience! So, you tell me what you want to see!” Trevor called up to his towering boyfriend.

“Well, I already see a lot that I like. Why not show that to the audience?” Simon replied with a smirk.

Trevor glanced up towards his boyfriend’s huge smirk which loomed far above him. His gaze stayed a moment at his boyfriend’s cute face and then slowly worked a path down the seeming miles of Simon’s shirt.

“You know… if I’m going to make a name for myself as the world’s tiniest porn star, I should have a partner for comparison!” Trevor said.

“Oh? Did you have someone in mind?” Simon replied playfully. He played dumb, but even without being asked, he began to undo the buttons on his shirt letting his toned chest and abs come into view.

“Take! It! Off! Take! It! Off!” Trevor cheered as Simon continued his striptease. Once his shirt was fully unbuttoned, he then shimmied his tight jeans down along his slender thighs before stepping out of those. Soon he was clad in nothing but his full open-fronted flannel shirt and a pair of bulging boxer briefs.

Simon started to reach down and slip his fingers into the waistband of his boxers, but Trevor quickly shouted for him to stop.

“Wait! Wait! I have an idea!” Trevor shouted.

Simon cocked an eyebrow questioningly but waited as Trevor scampered across the desk towards the large keyboard that Simon usually worked from. Trevor crawled up onto the wrist rest before leaping across the gap to the keyboard proper. Once there, Trevor knelt down and slammed his palms down on the track pad as if he was putting his prints on the Hollywood walk of fame.

Simon admired the view as Trevor took up a pose very similar to the meme pose he was trying earlier. Trevor had his legs spread wide so that he had a foot planted on one of the two mouse keys. Trevor had his two hands placed together almost as if he was trying to guide a Ouija puck. Trevor had to lean all the way forward so that he had most of his body weight balanced on his two hands in order for the track pad to even register his weight enough for him to move the cursor. The pose put all of his goods on display. His ass was raised high and held in such a way as to give Simon a clear view of Trevor’s tight, tiny hole, and his balls and dick swung beneath. Simon couldn’t help but ogle Trevor’s fit, firm backside as the tiny guy worked away at the computer. Each time Trevor needed to shift the cursor, he had to put his full body weight behind the push which caused his tiny cock and balls to swing heavily between his miniature quads.

Simon was quickly getting beyond chubbed up as he watched his tiny boyfriend flex and wobble with each shove of the trackpad. Simon wished it was physically possible for him to plow that firm ass, but even before Trevor had been reduced in height to the size of a Lego figure, Simon’s impressive rod had been too much for his boyfriend to take. That wasn’t to say that Simon was dealing with blue balls, however. Despite his tiny size, Trevor had a seemingly boundless wellspring of energy and an even bigger imagination. In fact, the only reason the two of them weren’t going at it like rabbits every day was because Simon often needed to rest between rounds, and there were also those pesky classes and homework and a job that kept Simon otherwise occupied.

Simon was so fixated on his fit, tiny boyfriend that he wasn’t even watching what was going on on the monitor. Trevor had already logged into the app that controlled the webcam and was adjusting the angle of the video.

Calling it a webcam was probably a bit of a misnomer. It was a higher quality camera than one usually used for face timing, and it was able to be remote controlled. This camera and the touch pad mouse were two of the items that Simon had installed to give Trevor a way to keep in touch with him if he was out of the apartment for any reason. The camera was able to zoom in on the less than two-inch tall dude so that Simon could clearly see his pint-sized paramour at any time of day. Today, however, the camera was fixated on Simon’s package.

“Chin up! Trousers down!” Trevor said into the microphone that was attached to his little control center.

Simon blushed beet red. He had been mostly joking about having Trevor film the two of them together. Trevor was the outgoing one. Simon was often just along for the ride. However, he couldn’t deny that he was excited by the prospects. Simon wasn’t naïve. He knew his cock was huge, and his dick was just going to look even more massive when placed alongside a dude who was crotch high to a G.I. Joe!

Simon once more slipped his fingers into the waistband of his tight boxer briefs and shoved the soft garment down along his hips until his huge, fat cock spilled out onto the desk before him. His impressive meat landed on the cool, wooden surface with an audible whump. The tremor from the impact was such that even Trevor, who was a good foot away from the point of impact, had to struggle to maintain his precarious pose.

Simon watched in awe as the camera zoomed in to focus on just the head of his huge cock. The soft, supple flesh of his spongy cockhead filled up almost every inch of his extra wide monitor. His pre-dribbling slit made it look like his desktop background had been swapped out with an off-brand rendition of the eye of Sauron.

It was strange staring at an image of his own cock like this. The glans appeared larger than his whole head! The slit appeared bigger than his own mouth! Was this what it looked like to Trevor? On some level, Simon started to feel a little jealous that this is what Trevor got to experience on a daily basis! But even as these thoughts flooded his mind, he knew that he was lowballing just how huge his dick looked to his tiny boyfriend.

Once satisfied with the camera position, Trevor stood back up and stretched the kinks out of his back and shoulder before hopping off of the mouse pad and scurrying across the desk over to where Simon’s massive meat awaited him. Trevor was already rock hard before he even left his workstation which gave Simon an amusing and erotic view of Trevor’s tiny rod swinging and dripping from side to side as the little guy jogged across the desktop.

Soon, Trevor was staring down the beast. Trevor was so small and Simon was so hung that the massive, spongy head of his semi-boned cock completely dwarfed Trevor’s body. Just the glans of Simon’s fantastic cock was the size of an igloo! As Trevor stood there staring down Simon’s massive, fleshy, one-eyed monster. Trevor felt like Chrono standing face to face with the planet-devouring parasite. However, unlike Chrono, Trevor was more than happy to let this beast erupt all over him.

Trevor leaned up against the tip of his boyfriend’s colossal cock. No matter how many times he did this, the sheer size of it always took his breath away, and the surreal sensation of the massive, soft, spongy tissue against his tiny hands made it feel like he was petting some kind of massive beast. Trevor had never pet an elephant before, but he imagined it would probably be a very similar experience… at least if he was doing it at his old size, anyway.

Trevor glanced over his shoulder and marveled at the image on the screen behind him. It was strange seeing himself as a giant! Everywhere he went, he was surrounded by people that completely dwarfed his tiny form. Some part of Trevor’s mind pondered for a split second what it would be like to be the big guy in a relationship, but he’d never want to trade places with Simon. Trevor loved having a skyscraper-sized boyfriend, and he knew that Simon absolutely adored having a pocket-sized lover as well.

Internal thoughts aside, Trevor was pleased at what he saw on the screen. He and his boyfriend’s cock were framed perfectly in the shot. Trevor flashed a sly wink to the giant figure of himself on the screen (and by extension to the fans watching at home) and turned to face the beast. Now that he was in position, he wasted no time. He pressed his body against the tip of Simon’s fully-engorged cock head. By this point, Simon was rock-hard. His dick-tip was as puffed up as it could get. Pre flowed freely from the huge slit.

Trevor began to rub his whole body against his boyfriend’s massive cockhead. He rolled his entire body like a Gogo boy doing body rolls in a cage above a dance floor. With each thrust of his hips, his own cock rubbed against the drooling lips of Simon’s massive slit.

Simon shuddered and moaned. He struggled against himself to keep himself from cumming so quickly. Sure, he had been busy with class lately, but he hadn’t thought he was so backed up! He was ready to cream, and they had barely even started! He could feel Trevor’s tiny dick rubbing against his oversensitive slit! He could feel Trevor’s tiny hips rubbing against his over-engorged cockhead! Simon was so close to cumming just from the sensations on his cockhead, and it didn’t help that he could see the entire spectacle of his tiny boyfriend grinding against and licking and suckling his own cockhead in HD on his large computer screen.

Simon’s cock head gave a flare. His dick lurched violently. The motion nearly sent Trevor toppling flat onto his ass, but Trevor was not about to be shoved aside even if Simon’s meat was so massive that even the head of the fat cock could easily eclipse Trevor’s entire body. He was determined to stand his ground. He didn’t want to let go of his boyfriend’s cock for even a moment, and he definitely didn’t want to disappoint the fans at home. Not to mention, that being able to make the titan which loomed over him tremble with just the movement of his hips, drove Trevor wild!

Trevor glanced back over his shoulder to make sure that his audience still had a clear shot of what was going on. He flashed another playful wink, and then returned his attention to his titanic boyfriend’s shuddering cockhead. Trevor got down on his knees so he was now staring down the dribbling slit. The scent of cock sweat and pre filled his nostrils. The sheer heat emanating from his boyfriend’s meat was astounding. It was like just the head of his lover’s cock was overwhelming all of his senses! But Trevor was not so easily cowed. He leaned in and rubbed his face against the pre-drooling gash of Simon’s monolithic cock. Simon’s slit was so huge that Trevor could get his entire face into it as if it was one of those face pillows on a massage bench, but the sides of this pillow were far warmer, softer, and wetter than any spa pillow he could have used.

Simon slammed his hands down on the desk to stabilize himself. He was now shaking like a leaf. His breath was coming in ragged gasps. Simon’s cock was so sensitive that he could feel Trevor’s tongue against the inside of his dick tip. He could feel Trevor’s nose brushing against the walls of his dick. Trevor really knew how to get to him. Trevor was far smaller than even just Simon’s cock, and yet Trevor could easily make the titan collapse with bliss, and the sensations were only amplified by the video displayed on Simon’s monitor.

Simon could see Trevor kneeling down before the camera. The video gave a clear glimpse of Trevor’s tight, tiny hole. Simon was leaking so much that his pre was completely coating Trevor’s tiny body. Trevor’s body glistened in the light of the desk lamp. Simon watched as Trevor moved a hand away from Simon’s sensitive cockhead and reached back towards Trevor’s own firm butt. Simon was so horny that his throat felt so tight that he could barely swallow. All he could do was struggle to remain upright while he felt his tiny boyfriend grinding against his cock and watched the incredibly sexy show on his screen. He was struggling to keep his cool and his load, but he nearly lost both when he saw Trevor reach back and slip two pre-soaked fingers into his own tight hole.

Trevor was using Simon’s own pre to finger fuck himself! Trevor was so tiny that Simon had long since given up getting any part of himself in that dude’s cute hole! Trevor was so small that Simon couldn’t even slip his pinky inside! Yet watching Trevor finger himself with Simon’s juices sent Simon spiraling into a new stratosphere of hot and bothered.

Simon’s cock trembled and lurched so hard that the force of it sent Trevor tumbling backwards. ! In actuality, Trevor had only slid a few centimeters, but at Trevor’s small size it was as if he had slid a few feet! The pre-soaked shrunken stud slid across the desktop as if he was in an ice rink.

Trevor knew it was time for his hard work to pay off. The sound of the giant’s moans was like music to his ears. Each labored breath that escaped the titan’s lips made Trevor hornier and hornier. Trevor was ready to cum right then and there, but he was determined to hold off until Simon had found release.

Simon was so horny that he didn’t even have time to wrap his hands around his fat cock before he started spewing. The first rope of jizz arced into the air, completely missing his tiny lover.

Simon struggled against his own arousal and orgasmic bliss and forced enough of his body to listen to him. Simon was so addled from his own climax that he wasn’t entirely sure why he was struggling so hard. Did he want to put on a good show for the camera? Did he just want to completely coat Trevor in his cum? Whatever the case, on some level, he knew that he needed to get his dick back in the shot.

Simon reached both hands around his fat cock and angled the cum-spewing tip down towards the desktop. Simon was so hot and bothered that he could barely keep his eyes open let alone focus them, but between gasps and spurts, he watched in awe as the image of his own cock was magnified several times on his computer screen. Jizz erupted from the slit like a geyser. The burst of cum crashed into the tiny figure that stood unsteadily before it. The torrent of jizz was so powerful that it sent Trevor flying backwards as it collided directly with his chest.

Trevor had been blasted clean out of the view of the camera. Now the computer screen only showed Simon’s spewing cock head. That image was incredibly hot even by itself, but even as his senses were overwhelmed by his own climax, Simon refused to take center stage on what was supposed to be Trevor’s special production. Fortunately, a blinking red light caught his attention.

Simon had never stopped recording on his cell phone! The device was positioned camera-side down, so all it had picked up so far was noise, but it was still running!

Simon quickly reached over. He scooped up his phone in one hand and his pint-sized lover in the other. He held Trevor up to the tip of his massive cock and held the phone unsteadily above and recorded the last few spurts of cum. He watched in hormone addled awe as the screen of his cell phone lit up with the image of Trevor’s shrunken form getting buffeted by shot after massive, messy shot of hot spunk! Simon’s load had been one for the record books even by his standards! His load completely flooded his entire palm! The thick spurts had left Trevor so soaked in spunk that he looked like a victim of the Staypuft marshmallow man!

“y-you ok…?” Simon gasped breathlessly into the phone as he zoomed in closer and closer on the shrunken figure which now lay buried in spunk in the palm of his hand. His question was answered by a pair of two emphatic thumbs up emerging from beneath the muck.

[First Chapter] || [Next Chapter]

#G/t #shrunken man #shrinking #micro #macrophilia #story tag

18 notes · View notes