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mockerycrow · 1 year

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Hello Dearest!

May I request König (I love this man) and the 141 squad (separately) where fem! reader catches them staring at her joocy ass as she's slightly bent over a table, translating some papers for them, and when she turns to see if they're listening she catches the way their eyes panic and look elsewhere.

Please my lord, I'm on my knees

-juvia

Fem!Reader Catches The 141 + König Looking At Her Ass

cod masterlist

I’m having a 400 follower celebration!

A/N: i hope you enjoy!! also this gets a bit dirtier than i intended,,,,

You’re standing up with your hands on the table, slightly bent over it with your eyes scanning the documents in front of you. The words that flood these pages hold valuable information and it’s a language none of the main members of the 141 understand. Your their main translator for any documents and prisoners as you’ve studied and have become fluent in a variety of languages. Your eyebrows furrow as you lift one of your hands and move the document a bit to the side to reveal the one underneath it, and then that hand hovers over the laptop you have set aside to type up your translations. Your back is arched in such a way where your ass is slightly bending outwards. “Hey, where did you guys say you got these document from?— What Country?” You pick the document up that caught your eye and your eyes scan every word, muttering quiet translations. You notice he doesn’t say anything, causing you to look back at him. “Hey, are you listening?—“ Suddenly his head looks the other way with a clear of his throat and you’re left confused. Did this topic make him nervous? Did something happen when they got these documents for this reaction to occur?—and then it hits you. He was staring at your ass. “Were.. were you looking at my ass?”

-> John Price

He clears his throat and his fingers go to his chin, rubbing at it nervously. Price hoped you didn’t notice him staring; he couldn’t help it. The way your back is arched just puts your ass on the most perfect display, and the way your pants are hugging your ass?? God, it’s like you wore them to kill him.

He can’t deny it, not when you so clearly caught him red handed. “Guilty.” He responds, his eyes darting anywhere but you. He’s being careful, as he knows this could very well go a way he didn’t want. “I’m sorry.”

Price has always noticed you around base, always thought it was a pleasure working with you. Your skills and talents in quick translation always impressed him. Your quips and your remarks have always intrigued him as well. It’d be a lie to say this is his first time staring.

“I don’t mind.”

He nearly asks you to repeat yourself but the glint in your eye, combined with your eyelash batting and the way you’re sticking your ass out even further, openly letting him take it in.

You then turn back around to your work, purposely bending your leg to stick your ass out into such a glorious pose, causing him to swear under his breath.

-> Kyle Garrick

He laughs with a nervous hue, his hands behind his back, one hand gripping the wrist of the other. Kyle can feel his heart pounding through the pulse on his wrist. His face feels hot from embarrassment as he clicks his tongue and rocks on the balls of his feet for a second, avoiding any eye contact with you. “Nope.”

You smirk because you know he was, you saw that split second of enthrallment, admiring the way your pants hug your ass, curving in on the underside, folding in such a perfect way, showing off how grabbable it is, how the meat of it would sink under his fingers. His face begins to heat up as his fingers twitch, the want to squeeze filling his gut.

“Mhm, sure.” You didn’t sound mad, in fact you sound.. amused. You turn back to your work, but not before pulling your pants up even further, digging into the crevices of your muscle. You pretend you don’t hear the quiet, shocked “damn” come from his lips for his own sanity.

-> John MacTavish

His cheeks are red while his hand scratches the back of his head, which he does when he’s embarrassed. Soap hesitantly looks at you again after a second of not responding. You look back at him with a smirk curled on your face, tilting your head as you oh so innocently change poses by leaning your back more into a down position, arching your back ever so slightly more than before.

Okay, now he was definitely obvious with his staring. Soap has to admit that he’s glanced once or twice before, but he never stared when he thought there was a chance where he could get caught.

You hum and turn back to the documents below you, and Soap thought that was that for a moment—oh, how he was wrong. You begin to talk.

“I know you were,” You quip. “How long?” He jolts ever so slightly, offering a nervous chuckle. You note his accent seems to thicken and drip from his voice like thick honey now. “What d’ya mean?” You look at him with a raised brow, and he gives you a smile that shows his gums. You roll your eyes playfully.

“Y’know, if you just admitted it, I would’ve let you touch.” Wait, what?

-> Ghost

He weighs his options and lets out a heavy sigh with an admission of guilt which you grin at; it’s not easy to get Ghost to admit to something like this. Admit to a mistake made on the field, sure, no problem, he’ll take full ownership but fuck, this is different.

You tread carefully, but you bite your lip, keeping your eyes on his. You notice the way his eyes are slightly wider than normal and he’s looking away; you guarantee that he’s blushing under that black grease and dark skull mask and you love how nervous he seems.

“It’s alright to look.” You murmur, and you turn your head back to the papers in front of you. As soon as he knows you look away, he looks back at you, and more specifically your ass. “I know these pants are tight, hm?” You can’t help but tease him about it, bending your spine so your ass is out more. “I beg your pardon?” His words are slow and connected in a swift sentence, his voice slightly tight.

You don’t respond verbally, but you shoot him a look over your shoulder that says it all, and he returns a lidded look that involuntarily pulls a grin from your lips.

-> König

“I apologize..!” He blurts out as he looks away, his fingers intertwining nervously. He did not mean to stare, really, but your pants are so tight and he’s usually really respectful and he doesn’t usually stare, and he can usually keep his eyes from wandering—

You tilt your head as you notice the man just lock up in place and you can’t help but bark out a laugh, causing him to glance at you before glancing away, pure shame radiating off of him. “König, it’s fine, I don’t care,” You begin, the corner of your lip lifting in amusement.

König keeps his eyes off of you even after you say you don’t mind as he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable, but that doesn’t stop his mind from wandering. He wondered if those pants fit you that tight everywhere? Did you own any pants that fit you tighter?

His eyes do end up on your ass again as he wonders if you own any tight leggings, the type that are sheer and and hug your legs and waist tight. The type that leave little to the imagination as it hugs the swell of your ass and the roundness of your cunt—

“König.” “Es tut mir Leid!!”

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princessbrunette · 6 days

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pogue!rafe who you call over to fix every minor inconveniences.. theres a cockroach bothering you or your ac’s acting up and rafe is the first guy you call 🙂‍↕️ he acts all nonchalant being “you could literally call the ac guy or your neighbor or someone. youre saying i come all the way here for this?” but you js go “but you’re the only one i trust rafey!!” and he eats that shit UP 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

: ・ෆ・┈・┈・ᕱ⑅ᕱ・┈・┈・ෆ・ :

perhaps you have strict kook parents who don’t let you bring men into the house — but rafe has worked on the house, they trust him — so he’s allowed right? he really doesn’t wanna come all that way just to press a few buttons on your ac that he knows you could do yourself — but he can’t help it, he’s just a man and you’re feeding his ego when you say stuff like “i’m not good at this kinda thing rafe, you’re all smart n’know how to fix things. oh, and my parents like you so they wouldn’t mind if you come here whilst they’re not home!” which makes his ears perk up like a rabbit of course. he reluctantly agrees and heads straight out.

it’s a specifically hot day, so when he turns up you’re walking around in just the tightest tiniest bikini because the ac is broken and you just couldn’t bring yourself to put clothes on.

he’s being his usual mean self, telling you to stay out of his way whilst he figures out the problem, and then once he figures it out starts telling you that you could have done it yourself — but you’re just smiling, barely listening, staring up at him looking all soft and grabbable which makes it hard for him to concentrate. you’re finding ways to get him to stay longer, offering him iced tea and food to which he declines every offer. before he leaves you get all upset, brow furrowed and pouty and he can’t stand it.

“what, huh? why are you looking at me like that?” he throws his arms up from the doorway to your bedroom, watching you sit on the bed sulking.

“why do you wanna leave so bad?” you mewl, genuinely sounding like you’re on the verge of tears and he sighs, scratching behind his ear.

“doin’ my job, kid. you’re not payin’ me to hang out and besides — m’not taking your money today.” he waves a hand and for a second you lose focus of your goal.

“wh— why?”

“i came over n’pressed a few buttons. s’not rocket science.”

“i’m still gonna pay you.” you cross your arms stubbornly and he spreads his palms carelessly, looking around.

“well uh, i’ll send it back.” he sarks and you huff, staring at your feet. he watches you for a moment, before giving in just a little and leaning on the door frame. “still upset? huh?”

“yes.” you pout.

“whats the problem now? you kook girls have got plenty’a shit to entertain yourself with alright you— you don’t need me for that. not a god damn babysitter.”

“you’re not babysitting. not even that much older than me, anyways.” you whine, only seemingly proving his point and he huffs out a laugh.

“jeeeesus christ.” he drawls under his breath before he strolls over to stand infront of you. you don’t look up at him, pointedly, so he taps beneath your chin twice. “hey.”

looking up, you look so sweet — he couldn’t deny it. “whats the issue?” he reiterates, and from his clipped tone you can tell he’s not gonna ask again if you refuse, he’ll just leave.

“want you…” you murmur, eyes getting hazy and low, pupils dilating before his very eyes like you’d flipped a switch. it’s tempting, very tempting but he backs off anyway.

“nah, nah you want a toy. go fuck on a dildo, m’not your slave.” he huffs tiredly as he drags his big body over to the doorway again. in almost a panic you let out a devastated noise, tears welling up.

“no i want you. rafey, c’mon… you have no idea. s’hurting.” you complain, and now his interest is piqued, turning around once more he licks his lips irritably at the back and forth, blinking at you.

“you think that shits not gonna hurt with me? huh?” he tilts his head, reaching down and boyishly grasping at the shape of himself through his jeans. “this shits bigger than any of the other suckers you’ve had. trust me, you don’t want this kid. go back to playing with kook boys.”

fed up and whiny, you bring your feet up onto the bed, spreading your thighs as you pull your bikini bottoms aside. he freezes on the spot, eyes locked in to the sight, only just taking in the pained look on your face. you weren’t lying, your cunt is a mess of slick, practically pulsating and clenching around nothing infront of him.

“i can take it. make me take it.” you request quietly, peering up at him. he exhales hard out his nose, looking around the room helplessly before storming towards you.

“yeah? alright. i’ll make you fuckin’ take it.”

: ・ෆ・┈・┈・ᕱ⑅ᕱ・┈・┈・ෆ・ :

#anon #pogue!rafe #rafe cameron prompt

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thepixelelf · 3 months

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warnings: coarse language. wc: 793

[the amnesia card always declines]

If there's one thing Joshua Hong has above all else, it's the audacity.

If there's two things, it's the audacity and the most grabbable, stupidly defined, makes-you-wanna-bite-into-them man tits you've ever seen in your godforsaken, miserable life.

Well, okay, maybe that counts as three things. Whatever.

"Oh my fucking god," you hiss, ducking closer to the coffee shop/bakery's table and hiding your entire head with both arms. "What is he doing here?!"

Soonyoung, the least subtle person you know (but you've given up on fixing him at this point) turns 180 degrees in his chair to watch the loser posing for a "totally casual" photoshoot outside. He hums in understanding, putting his hand under his chin like an experienced detective. "He must've seen your instagram story."

"He doesn't even follow me..."

"Oh, he's following you, alright." Soonyoung turns back around and stabs his fork into his strawberries 'n' cream croffle.

You glare at him over the pastries on the table. "Very funny."

"I know I am," he says with a dumb smile that says your sarcasm was not effective! "When are you going to stop holding your stupid grudge?"

An offended scoff escapes you. "It is a completely reasonable grudge, for your information."

"What, you being mad at him for...kissing you at that party?"

"For smooshing that stupid pretty face on mine at that party then acting like it never happened!" You slap your hands on the table, but as soon as you spot Joshua outside start to turn his head, you duck back into hiding.

Soonyoung points his fork at you. "He was drunk."

"So was I," you argue with a sneer. "But I remember everything-- especially you being the reason we had to cut the night short because you started drunk-crying and I had to take you home."

Suddenly capable of shame, Soonyoung scoots forward in his chair and leans over the table. "Have I mentioned that I love you and you're the best friend in the world?"

"Whatever, buddy." You roll your eyes. "Just remember all the shit I've done for you when I'm the one crying in the club."

"Crying in the club?" echoes Joshua--

Joshua?!

Your soul escapes your body entirely and jolts back in a nano-second. "Holy fuck--" You put a hand over your racing heart and send a death glare to the smug offender. "You scared the shit out of me!"

Joshua just smiles that stupidly pretty smile and, damn it, you're supposed to be ignoring this jackass.

"Sorry," he says, but he doesn't sound sorry at all. "Are you free?"

Making a face, you look over at Soonyoung, who just shrugs, then back at Joshua. "...Right now?"

"Right now is good." He nods in thought. "Or later today. Or tomorrow. If not, then the day after that. You've been avoiding me."

You force your shoulders to relax and avert your eyes. "No I haven't."

Joshua's expression suddenly goes solemn, which you notice because, shit, you started looking at him again. "Did I do something?"

At that, you scoff, crossing your arms and shaking your head in disbelief.

"Seriously. That party... I don't remember much, except that I've barely seen you since."

"Don't play the amnesia card on me, Josh. It's so tired."

His brows furrow, and your stupid fingers want to massage the hurt look right off his forehead. As if the dumbass deserves it.

"It's not amnesia," Joshua says. "But it's fuzzy. I can't tell what really happened that night or what was just my dream."

"Really? We're talking dreams now?"

He shrugs, crossing his arms, which fold just underneath those stupid, huge pecs... "I happen to dream about you a lot."

"Mmhm... Sure..." Are they bigger than the croffles? The melon buns? The... "Wait-- what?"

Joshua smiles, and you just know he caught you staring, the little shit. "I said, I dream about you a lot. Kiss scenes included."

Your jaw drops, maybe to the floor, but you can't be bothered to check. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Soonyoung make a perfect circle with his mouth before he hurriedly asks the barista if they serve popcorn.

"Joshua Hong, you..." Standing from your chair, you fist the collar of his fleece sweater in both hands, primed to throttle. "...are so fucking stupid."

Then somehow, even though you're the one who pulls him in, he's the one who takes your breath away.

When your lips part, though, you open your eyes while his stay closed, and he leans in again.

"Wait," you say, halting him with the one word. "How did you find me here?"

Wincing, Joshua peeks just one eye open. "Please don't be mad at him."

You whip around, but the bell over the shop's door is already tinging, and Soonyoung is dashing across the street like his life depends on it.

Good, because it does.

"Kwon Soonyoung! You are so fucking dead!"

#caratlibrary #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #seventeen x reader #joshua hong scenarios #joshua hong x reader #joshua hong imagines #hong jisoo scenarios #hong jisoo imagines #hong jisoo x reader #svt scenarios #svt imagines #svt x reader #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #.100 #.200 #.300 #.400

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strkyoo · 10 months

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— flowerboys

PAIRING ; florist!tighnari x biker!male reader

IN WHICH ; tighnari has a random crush on his regular biker customer! how interesting … i wonder how will tighnari try to approach him and make him fall for him?

NOTE ; IM SO SICK…,, but ugh florist tighnari literally makes my brain hurts so much to not write it — wc ; 680

// FLUFF — MODERN AU, drabbles, implied he/him pronouns for reader, slow burn?, ONE JUST ONE cringy cyno joke reader made, ‘delulu’ tighnari??

⋆ florist!tighnari who had an … ordinary first encounter with you. it all started when you decided to visit his newly opened flower shop. still, he wasn’t expecting someone as sweet as you to be his first customer!

⋆ florist!tighnari who didn’t realise that his tail was swaying here and there whenever he looked at you, struggling to find a suitable seed when you wanted to plant a new flower.

“need any help, biker guy?” he chuckled as he left the cashier counter, smiling playfully as he saw your struggling expression.

you just smile awkwardly and nodded, barely muttering any word to him because of how nervous you are around this new florist guy.

“... chill, dude. i don’t bite or anything.” tighnari laughed again as he stepped closer beside you, trying to help you to find a seed you’ve been looking for with an amused smirk crossed his lips.

⋆ florist!tighnari who likes to look at your padisarah pin on your clothes, saying that it looks lovely, especially since you’re the one who wear it. he would definitely say that padisarah is as beautiful as you as a joke, and maybe deep down—it’s not really a joke for him.

⋆ florist!tighnari who would always smile warmly whenever you entered his flower shop. he would wave at you with a bright as a sunflower and sweet as a nectar smile, looking at your back lovingly whenever you tried to find a new seed. he rests his chin on his palm-like paw (or paw-like palm idk), staring at you with such a dreamy face.

oh archons … did he just fall head over heels for you?

⋆ florist!tighnari who would like to have a matching floral themed stuff — earring, ring, necklace, pin, whatever it is, as long as he matches with you. a secret, unofficial sign that one day, you will belong only to him… <3

⋆ florist!tighnari who couldn’t help but sometimes give you his favorite flower, seeds, or even gardening items for free to you—saying that it’s a gratitude to always coming over to his flower shop every day. but deep down, he had no reason to give it to you, he just wanted to see your adorable reaction!

⋆ florist!tighnari who hesitated when he asks you if he could have a ride on your bike whenever you have free time.

⋆ florist!tighnari who will chuckle awkwardly in relief when you said he can have a ride on your bike, while deep inside, he wanted to scream “LET’S FUCKING GOOOOOOOOOO—”on top of his lungs for getting accepted.

⋆ florist!tighnari who pretend that he didn’t know how to ride a bike together before, it’s absolutely clear that he’s doing it on purpose to hear your cute step by step explanations.

“hold on tight, nari!” you joked slightly, which received a playful flick on the back of your head from tighnari. (pls tell me u get the joke)

you guided his hand carefully through your hips to your waist, which caused him to flinch in surprise when you do that so … casually.

he can feel how soft the fabric of your clothes are, his ears drop in embarrassment as he tries to control his breath and his wagging tail.

“his waist is … so soft … so grabbable.” he thought with a rosy cheeks, finding it hard to focus when he was holding your waist so carefully.

⋆ florist!tighnari who always loves to hold your waist while thinking of romantic scenarios you two would have while biking together 𖹭

likes, comments & reblogs are appreciated (with tags) ! ♡

@strkyoo, 2023.

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mylevisdontfitanymore · 9 months

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please consdider: moobs and double chins. I have recently become obsessed with moobs

Moobs.

and.

Double Chins.

I love them for,, reasons 😳🥴 and I immediately had visions of Bucky being the fatty [affectionate] with big, big moobs and a double chin.

Unbeta'd stucky belly kink ahead. Warnings for stuffing, weight gain, body worship, etc.

Steve feels bad about it. Honestly, he does. He feels no better than a fuck boy ogling at some girl he desperately wants to dick down with how often he finds his eyes falling from Bucky's face to his chest. But he can't help it if he isn't looking Bucky in the eyes that often, these days. He really can't. There's so much else to look at! C'mon!

Instead -

He's looking at his chin. He's always had a little bit of puppy fat around his face. Softness that never seemed to go away, no matter how lean he was. As he's grown over the past few years - popping buttons and tearing seams as a result of stuffing his face, indulging gluttonously and uncontrollably - that the softness has only increased.

His chin has a full twin now.

Wide and soft.

Steve's mouth embarrassingly waters looks at that puffy chin. There's something about the pale, fatty flesh that Steve wants to bite. He wants to suck love bites into it. Marking Bucky up with red, purple bruises. He wouldn't hurt him! Not a lot anyway...

He just wants a nibble. A taste. Bucky has to taste so sweet with his habit of eating so much candy and dessert. Pure sugar. Fattening and so, so sweet.

When he's not spacing out, staring at Bucky's chin, Steve's staring at Bucky's neck. It's fat, too. And more and more indistinguishable from his chin with each pound of blubber he piles on. His neck blends into his chin, thick, fat, and beginning to crease. Piled up with softness.

God.

It's so attractive.

He's so attractive. Every fat part of him.

The softness of his neck flows seamlessly into his chubby, sloped shoulders, and ballooned upper arms. Gone are Bucky's broad-with-muscle shoulders, gone are Bucky's solid, hard biceps; they've been replaced with broader, wider, fat shoulders and pillowy, butter-soft arms.

Whenever possible, Steve can't help but sink his fingers into the soft fat piled on him. He holds on tight to those shoulders and arms when fucking Bucky, when hauling Bucky up from his thick ass, sitting and eating and doing nothing else, and whenever he fucking wants to. He grabs him. He's so grabbable. So plush. So thick. Bucky ends up with lots of fingerprint bruises and indents from Steve's blunt nails. Poor baby.

Steve doesn't look at Bucky's face as often as he should because he also gets caught up around the base of Bucky's neck, the very, very top of his chest, squinting, searching for where Bucky's collarbones are... he knows they're under that fat somewhere! He bites and licks at his bottom lip, thinking. He can remember when Bucky had prominent collarbones that Steve would mouth at and bite until he was marked up. Steve doesn't miss that time. He much prefers to sink his teeth into the warm, soft jiggly layer of fat that's settled over Bucky now.

He lives for how Bucky's bigger, fatter chest heaves as he gasps and mewls and moans. He's so much more sensitive now. As if getting heavier, softer has legitimately made him softer. Sweeter. More sensitive.

Fuck.

It makes Steve want to do even more to him. Feed him. Fuck him. Fatten him.

If not shamefully focused on his double chin, fat neck, puffy shoulders, pillowy upper arms, or on his fat-hidden collarbones, Steve is staring at Bucky's moobs. And they really are moobs now. They're not pecs. They haven't been pecs for pounds and pounds and pounds. Pecs are for men who aren't round balls of fat and chub and blubber. Well insulated. Gluttonous. Moobs are for men like Bucky. Fat men. Men that are thick and heavy and marked with jagged lines that show just how fast they've gotten out of control - so fast that their skin is bursting at the seams.

Nah, they're not pecs. They're plush, fat, stretch marked MOOBS that crown his outrageously massive belly.

How could Steve keep his eyes off of them?

When Bucky's really stuffed, his belly taut, red, and rounder than anything, his moobs are pushed up even higher by the size of his gut, shoved up almost all the way to his double chin. Bucky complains about it sometimes. It apparently feels like he's choking on his own moobs; they're so close to his face and so heavy and jiggly that it's hard to breathe. But if Bucky's choking at feel it, then Steve's suffocating at the sight of it.

Everything about him is so erotic now. It's like his appeal has grown with his weight. The size of him. Steve's desire for him matches. Huge. He can't contain himself around Bucky the way Bucky can't contain himself around food. He's a glutton for Bucky.

His moobs are heavy and stretched, and his nipples are so pretty pink, stretched big too, thin and delicate tissue that's always so, so hard...

God!

That might be where Steve wants to put his mouth the most. On those gorgeous, huge nipples capping his gorgoeus, huge moobs.

Bucky's eyes roll back into his head when Steve touches them. He always moans. Even when he's stuffing his face, he moans through his mouthful of food and lets his eyes roll back, blissful. It makes Steve want to touch them more and more and more.

He wants to lick and bite and savor those fucking plush nipples. And he wants to do it until they're swollen, red, and Bucky is crying from how good it feels. So much pleasure pulsing through his chest, curling up his spine, and whiting out his mind.

So good.

So fat.

"Steve?" Bucky's voice is amused and not at all surprised.

"Huh?" Steve's eyes shoot up to look at Bucky. Eye-to-eye. He's blushing red. Hot red.

Bucky just lazily smirks at him, his chubby, round cheeks dimpling cutely desight the undertone of trouble. "What're you looking at, honey? Did I spill something on myself?" He obnoxiously shifts in his seat, the sofa groaning underneath him, and totally intentionally pressing his moobs together. His cleavage is pale pink, deep, monumentous, and -

Steve gets lost in it. His eyes might cross. He'll never tell. He's just -

He's maybe just drooling over how plump Bucky is. He's so deliciously round. Fat. Always eating. Always growing. Always so, so hot.

Bucky rubs circles on the flushed surface of his gut. He slaps it a few times, making his moobs jiggle entisingly.

Steve groans, "Buck."

"Yeah, honey?"

"Buck."

He has the worst shit eating grin on his face now.

"You gonna do something or just sit there and drool?"

Steve growls.

#mylevisdontfitanymore #ask #belly kink #text #weight gain #stuffing #body worship #bucky barnes #steve rogers #stucky #chubby bucky #fat bucky

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good-oldfashioned-lover · 4 months

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I’m stuck at home with covid so have some Rosekiller cuddle ramblings:

1. Evan with his legs over Barty’s thighs, Barty’s hand absentmindedly resting on his calves and drawing little patterns

2. Barty in Evan’s lap, chin tucked over his shoulder with Evan’s arms circled loosely around his waist (if waist not for grabbing, why so grabbable?)

3. Evan carrying Barty with Barty’s legs circled around his waist and face tucked into his neck.

4. Barty giving Evan a piggyback ride on the way back from Hogsmeade, soft and fond (this is one of my favorites)

5. Barty sitting halfway in Evan’s lap during breakfast, one leg tossed over Evan’s, Evan’s hand holding him steady (bonus points if they’re feeding each other and if Barty is trying to convince Slughorn that “no we’re not being inappropriate, I’m just showing my total platonic love for my most bestest friend in the whole world—except for you, Reggie darling”)

Anyway my chest feels like it’s going to cave in so please feel free to continue this

2. (YES.)

6. Barty and Evan with linked ankles under tables during classes.

7. Always cold Evan and walking burner Barty creating perfect thermodynamic equilibrium.

8. Not in the same line of thought process BUT girl dads rosekiler. They're THE "Your daughter got into a fight" "Did she win?" "We're sorry"

9. Wait. That. But "did she win?" Is Evan. Yes.

10. Barty biting Evan whenever he is feeling needy but doesn't know how to express it. Not like a nibble. But a full on chomp. Evan doesn't mind the scars.

11. Evan leaving small kisses wherever he can reach whenever he can.

12. Them still cuddling when they're fighting because they know the other won't sleep.

I'm gonna go now but I hope I come back with more 😌

#rosekiller

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tiresomeimagination · 2 years

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Since you and Saeyoung have seriously started your relationship, you've started looking for little ways to help him improve his self-care habits. A lot of his bad habits are pretty deeply ingrained from all his time working alone, so you have to try small things rather than expecting huge change right away. First order of business is his diet. Having you by his side does encourage him to take an interest in setting aside time to eat with you, so you don't have to twist his arm too much...unless he gets engrossed in his work. If left to his own devices, Saeyoung tends to get sucked into a project and you might not see him for hours on end. One thing you can do to make sure he gets at least one good meal in for the day is to pack him a lunch and leave it on his desk.

~~~~~

Saeyoung was headed back to his workstation, ready to get back to his coding. To his surprise, his workspace wasn't exactly how he left it. In front of his computer sat a bento box with a note attached. He curiously picked it up to read it.

"Good luck at work today, Saeyoung! ^3^ Don't forget to eat some lunch today. If this bento isn't emptied by dinnertime, I'll know ;P"

He couldn't help but smile, his heart warming at the sweet gesture. He was never going to get used to this...Having somebody care about him this much. It was still so surreal that he could hardly believe it.

"Uhh...Y/N?" He called out, poking his head out into the living area.

"Yeah?" You called back.

"You know you don't have to pack a lunch for me, cause I'm not actually leaving the house, right?" He asked, a mixture of confusion and amusement in his tone as he pondered your logic.

"If you don't have something ready and grabbable in your line of vision, you'll be working with nothing but chips and soda in your system. This way you can't forget!" You said with a laugh.

You were too busy focusing on the TV to notice Saeyoung come up behind you until he placed his hands gently on your shoulders and pressed a featherlight kiss to the top of your head. You chuckled and leaned back to look at him.

"How'd I get so lucky...?" He murmured under his breath, looking down at you with pure adoration.

You smiled up at him with an equal level of affection in your gaze. "I'm the lucky one, silly. You deserve to be spoiled a little...and I won't let you forget it!" You said firmly before stretching your neck up in an attempt to reach Saeyoung's face.

You missed his lips due to the awkward angle and kissed his chin instead.

You both giggled, wrapped up in your own little world together.

A small exasperated sigh came from across the room as Saeran averted his eyes from yet another display of affection and refocused his attention elsewhere. He vaguely wondered if you two ever got tired of doing that. Probably not. His brother was clearly nothing if not committed.

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jellalism · 1 year

Text

Alhaitham x Reader fic: Brilliant

You've been working on your thesis so much that Alhaitham feels it's time to intervene: you need to take a break. Fortunately, Alhaitham has special, exciting plans for what you could do to 'relax'.

Word count: 3957

Genre: Erotica, comfort

Characterization: top!Alhaitham, bottom!Reader, Dom!Alhaitham, Sub!Reader

Contents: Oral sex, anal sex, cockwarming, feminization (see below), slight degradation

Reader characteristics: The reader has a penis. They are not referred to with third-person pronouns. They are referred to with feminine terms ("bitch," "good girl," etc.), but it can easily be read as feminization and not a reflection of the reader's gender (it is how I intended it, anyway). The reader has hair of grabbable length.

Read below or on AO3.

You sigh again, as you do often these days. Poring over ancient texts, comparing translations and even extant versions of the original—it’s enough to drive you insane, even if it's just a little. To the unassuming reader of the text, a single character isn't going to make much of a difference, but when you're a scholar, that one character might just decide the difference between completely irreconcilable interpretations of the whole work. And how do you decide? Is there even a 'true' version of this ancient text, or is any extant version as good as any other? Another long, tired breath escapes your lips.

Suddenly you feel a hand on your shoulder. "Too difficult for you?" Alhaitham says teasingly. He has entered the room without you noticing. He probably hadn't been particularly quiet, but you sometimes find yourself completely focused on your work.

You turn around on your chair to face him. "Nothing is too difficult for me!" you say, full of confidence. Then, a bit more demurely, "Only some things take a while for me to figure out."

He smiles—most people would think it a rare occurrence, but you have the pleasure of seeing it quite often. "I wouldn't expect any less of you, of course. But you should also take a little time off. A sighing scholar is never a good thing."

You sigh again—not even on purpose. Alhaitham is right: you've been exhausting yourself beyond your limit.

"Good thing I just made us dinner. How convenient." He tries to play it off like a mere coincidence that he finished cooking just when you badly needed a break, but you know better—and he knows you know.

"All right then," you say, getting up and following him out of the room.

When you finish the food, all you want to do is take a nap. Alhaitham's discerning eye doesn't overlook it. "You look tired. You should rest a little longer."

"But I really have to continue working on this paper... What if I don't finish in time?"

“Honey, what do you think will happen if you don’t finish in time? Every day there are people who miss a deadline. They don’t die when they do. It’s your choice in the end, but I would prefer it if you took good care of yourself. And remember, I’ve been in this business a while. I guarantee you it’s fine to take a break now.”

You sigh, but this time it has a different quality. It’s a sigh of letting go, of relaxation. “Fine,” you mutter. “I’ll take a break.”

“Then, allow me.” He grabs your wrist and leads you to the sofa. Then he sits down and, with a pull, pulls you right beside him. His arm wraps around your shoulders comfortingly.

“But in an hour I’ll go back to work, OK?” you say. Your mind can’t help but feel the pressure of the impending deadline.

Besides you, you feel Alhaitham tense up in response to your words. Suddenly, he turns towards you, takes your chin in one of his hands, and turns your head, forcing you to look at him. His piercing gaze is focused on you and you only. “Listen to me,” he says sternly. “You need a damn break. Take it. No more work today.”

It doesn’t hurt, but your head feels immobilized by his hand. You can only nod slightly to indicate your understanding—and compliance.

He lets go of your chin and relaxes again. You relax against him, resting your head against his chest.

“Thank you.”

“Mm?”

“For taking care of me.”

“Don’t mention it. You’re one of the few people I like having around, so it’s the least I can do in return.”

“Thanks,” you murmur again, while his hand plays with your hair.

“Now that we agree about you needing a break, we are going to sit here and relax.” His mouth moves to your neck and places a kiss there. It tickles a little and gives you goosebumps. “Relax,” Alhaitham repeats.

“How can I relax when you’re—ah!” you exclaim in surprise as one of his hands surreptitiously enters your pants and fondles your genitals.

“Sorry, what were you saying? I didn’t catch that.”

“Oh, so that’s the kind of mood you’re in.”

“Perhaps. Will you indulge me?” He hasn’t stopped stroking your testicles. “I promise I’ll take good care of you.”

In between your irregular breaths, you whisper: “Take me.”

He takes his hand out of your pants in seconds and positions himself over you, one leg on each of your sides. Still clothed, he presses his pecs to your face for a moment. “You like those, huh? You can admire them all you like tonight.” His muscles are relaxed, making them a little squishy—but you know that if he were to tighten them, they’d be hard as stone. He smells a bit like jasmine, but the scent of sweat is also noticeable with your nose so close to his skin. Rather than it being unpleasant, it turns you on a little—this is the smell of Alhaitham when he is ravenous for sex, ravenous for you.

He moves his chest away from you and then bends over to press his lips upon yours. His tongue impatiently makes its way into your mouth, trying to explore every part of it. His right hand rests at the nape of your neck, keeping you close to him. His other hand trails downwards and slides into your pants again. This time, he plays around with the tip of your cock. You’re itching for his hand to slide up and down your shaft; inadvertently you try to move your crotch towards his hand, but with him sitting on your lap, you are unable to. You’re at his mercy; it’s like everywhere he touches you, he’s immobilized you.

Finally, he ends the kiss. His hand that was at the nape of your neck now slides to the front to hold your chin. “This is just the beginning.” You swallow in anticipation. He removes his upper body clothing. His clothes always allow you to see the outlines of his muscular torso, but nothing can quite prepare you for the fully unclothed version. He is breathtakingly muscular. “You should remove your clothes as well.” He wastes no time and starts pulling your shirt over your head. He’s a bit rough, impatience leaking through. His mask of composure is slipping.

Once your shirt is off, Alhaitham places his hands on your chest, pushing your back into the backrest of the sofa. “You are going to relax as I told you, right?” He places his thumbs on your nipples and starts rubbing them softly.

You already find yourself breathing heavily. “I don’t think you’ll let me.”

He smirks. “With your permission?”

You can’t suppress a smile yourself. “With my permission.”

As if it were the start sign, he immediately dives into your neck, kissing you passionately. All the while, his hands are undoing your belt. Then he gets up from the sofa, kneels, and pulls your pants off. Your underwear goes with it too. You’re fully exposed to him and feel your face flushing red. Alhaitham stands up, towering over you with a satisfied, almost sadistic smile. Then, he removes his pants too. He first leaves his underwear on. “You want this?” He grabs his crotch, rubbing it a little. You can already see the outline of his balls and long cock through the cloth. “Answer me.”

“I want it, Alhaitham. Please give it to me.”

Perhaps he wants to see you beg more, but his impatience gets the better of him, and he slowly slides his underwear down. His dick springs out suddenly. Half-erect, it points right at you. Once he slips the underwear off his feet, he takes a step forward and lays a hand on your cheek. “You’d better get to work.” His cock is staring you right in the face now. You look up to see Alhaitham’s imposing body. He is looking down at you with a proud look on his face—like he has power over you. You both enjoy that playful imbalance.

His hand buries itself in your hair and then pulls your face closer to his dick. “Suck it.” You obediently place your lips on the tip of his member. Then you use your tongue to tease it. Alhaitham doesn’t say anything, but you hear his breathing growing deeper. His hand still grabs onto your hair—not quite aggressively, but certainly in a firm manner.

You don’t tease him for too long—he wouldn’t let you, anyway—and soon place his cock in your mouth. It isn’t thick, but it is long. You try to ease his member into your mouth, first taking only the tip in, then a part of the shaft. Moving up and down, taking it a little bit further each time. Then, Alhaitham grabs your head with his other hand, too. “Fuck,” you hear him whisper under his breath.

Soon enough, you find that his cock reaches far into your mouth, but you’re not at the base yet. Meanwhile, his long wood pulsates, a sign of Alhaitham’s that he’s nearing his climax—but that he isn’t quite there yet. You try to relax your throat and let his member slide in even deeper. Just when you think you can’t take it any further, Alhaitham’s hands start doing their work. He gets a bit rougher, moving your mouth up and down his dick at his own pace, as deep as he wants it to go. Deeper than you thought you could take it. When you start choking, he leaves his cock in your mouth but stops driving it in deep. “Relax your throat,” he reminds you. You make an understanding noise and try to re-relax. He thrusts into your mouth again. At first, not as deep as he just went, but he soon picks up the pace and depth again. He goes deeper and deeper, and you feel yourself being filled up with his large and warm member. His breathing quickens.

Then, with a raspy voice, he commands: “Drink up, bitch.” He thrusts his cock deep into you, and you feel the slimy warmth of his sperm shooting into your throat. Alhaitham grunts—music to your ears. While he is coming, he continues to hold your head firmly in place, making sure that every drop of him enters you.

When he finishes, he slowly slides his member out of your mouth, while you use your tongue to clean up the last of the drops of cum on his shaft. “Good girl,” he coos, stroking your cheek. After a few moments, he adds, “but we’re not done yet. I think you deserve a treat.”

He scoops you up and carries you to the bedroom, where he gently lays you down. Before you can settle, he flips you over on your belly, leaving your behind fully exposed. While he pressed his hand on your back, keeping you firmly in place, you hear him rummaging around in a drawer. Soon he finds what he searches for and he puts it down next to you. From the corner of your eye, you see it is a bottle of lube.

Before you know it, he starts pulling on your pants. They seem to fly off as if only all too eager. It’s the same story with your underwear. Then, you feel him position himself over you, wrapping his legs around yours, sitting comfortably.

“I seem to be saying this all the time, but I’ll say it once more: relax.” You breathe out deeply, trying to drain the tension from your body. The tension flows out, but something else seems to go in. Alhaitham’s lubed finger plays around with your anus. Softly massaging the rim, and then going in just a little—just one finger, not even that deeply, but still a jolt of electricity seems to run through you.

“Oh?” Alhaitham chuckles. “You seem to be quite hungry for my cock today.”

You involuntarily grunt. “I can’t help it. I just love being fucked by you.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” he says in a low voice, and then slips his finger in deeper.

You can’t suppress a moan. He knows all the sensitive places. To feel him rummaging around inside makes you squirm in pleasure. You instinctively raise your ass a little bit, moving it towards Alhaitham—anything to get his finger in deeper.

Then, you feel it. Another finger. Simultaneously, he lays down on his side next to you, propping up his head using his other hand. You try to look at him, but you often find yourself closing your eyes in pleasure and surprise at his practiced movements inside you.

“Mmm… You look so sexy like this.”

You are unable to answer. Instead, you just pant.

Another finger enters you. A small exclamation escapes your lips before you can contain it. But he says: “Let it all out, baby. I want to hear you.”

“Haah…. Make… me.”

His fingers pause. From the corner of your eye, you see a dangerous and amused glint in his eyes. “So that’s the game you want to play today. Fine then. Don’t expect me to hold back.”

And just like that, he takes out his fingers and repositions himself. He places his legs on each side of your body as if capturing you. You see him take the bottle of lube again—this time, it’s not for his fingers. He places his hands on your hips and pulls them up, arching your behind further toward him. Then, you feel the tip of his length at the rim of your anus. Slowly it presses its way in. You feel his deep breaths tickling your back. It goes further and further. It hurts a little, but the pleasure is greater.

“Ah!” A sound spills from your lips.

Alhaitham pauses. “Don’t give up. We’re not at the base yet,” he says matter-of-factly, and immediately he continues his way in. You grunt in pain and pleasure, head pressed into the soft mattress. It feels like he’s filling you, like the inside of you is on fire, all nerve endings activated.

“There. We’ve arrived.” His voice still sounds strong, but a little less steady than usual. He’s getting worked up, too. Meanwhile, you are panting heavily. “Are you sure you want me to make you moan?”

It takes a moment for you to catch your breath. “Yes,” you say determinedly.

Then, he bends over, letting his whole body rest on you. You feel his crotch on your buttocks, his abdomen on your lower back, his chiseled chest on your shoulder blades, and his lips at your right ear. His voice is soft, a threatening whisper. “Do you want me to make you scream?”

Your erect member replies by twitching enthusiastically, and you heed its call. “Do it.”

He moves his cock out a little before thrusting it right back in, deeply. With each thrust he lingers, making sure to go deep, hitting your sweet spot. Despite your best efforts, you can’t keep silent. Each time he plunges into your depths, you grunt softly.

“Ha ha… you’ve so easily turned into my little bitch,” he growls in your ear. His arm coils around your hip, his hand moving to your crotch. Then he firmly grabs your wood. “I guess I’ll have to take care of this too.” And just like that, he starts moving his hand up and down your shaft.

“Ah… Alhaitham…” His name spills from your lips. He wordlessly continues thrusting into you. Stimulated both front and back, it almost becomes too much for you. You try to hold back, but the sounds make their way out of your mouth louder and louder.

Suddenly, he grabs your chin with his other hand. “Let me hear you scream.” His voice is low and clear. You can’t hold back anymore, and you let your voice spill out without restraint. With each deep thrust, a scream rings out. In response, Alhaitham’s cock seems to grow even bigger inside you. “Take it all, cunt,” he whispers in your ear. “You like it rough, don’t you?”

When you don’t find the opportunity to answer in between his merciless, relentless movements, he forcibly turns your face to the side so he can look you in the eye. “Don’t. You?” he asks intimidatingly.

Between pants and screams, you stammer out a response. “Yes… Ah!... I… love it! Aaah! Fuck… me up… Ohh… Do whatever… you want... to me.”

Suddenly, he pauses. “Oh?” You don’t need to see his face that he is grinning maliciously. “As if I weren’t going to do that anyway.” He slides his cock out of your ass, rolls off you, and sits up. “Sit. Now.”

His commanding tone simultaneously scares you and turns you on. You scramble to get up, and when you do, you realize he intended a specific place for you to sit. In his lap. On his beautifully long, erect cock. You swallow in apprehension. That position will make him penetrate you even deeper—you’re not sure you can handle that.

“I said now.”

There is no time to be afraid, and you crawl toward Alhaitham. You place your hands on his shoulders, and, facing him, position yourself over his lap. You swallow again. You can feel the tip of his penis already touching your buttocks, but you hesitate to lower yourself onto it.

“What’s wrong? Are you perhaps afraid?” He flashes an arrogant smile.

You nod quietly.

His expression changes; the act drops for a moment. “Don’t worry, my love. I’ll take good care of you. If you find that you can’t handle it, just let me know. Is that all right with you?”

You nod again.

“Brilliant.” He places a kiss on your cheek. “Then, whenever you’re ready.”

You take a deep breath and lower yourself onto his member. Alhaitham holds his cock so it slides right in. Thanks to the previous position, your ass has already gotten used to him, so it doesn’t hurt much. But near the base, you slow down. It goes deeper than you dared dream. You breathe deeply and take your time. Alhaitham length, on the other hand, seems to be growing a little impatient.

Alhaitham’s lips form a single word, barely audible. “Please…” His eyes are closed in ecstasy and desire. That’s all the encouragement you need, and you lower yourself further, fully sitting down. His erect cock is now deep inside you, filling you up, and you can feel its every pulsation. With your arms around his neck, you place your lips upon his. Alhaitham greedily answers. His tongue slides into your mouth immediately. He keeps one hand on your lower back, and one on the back of your head.

His cock twitches and he breaks off the kiss. “Why don’t you start moving now?”

You smile. “How polite. But I think I’m all right now. You can say what you want to say.”

Alhaitham chuckles. Then, his demeanor changes. “Move.” The command sounds so authoritative that you do as he says reflexively, without a single thought. You start slowly, only going up and down slightly. One of Alhaitham’s hands slides to your thigh, gripping it firmly, nudging you to take it. He takes your cock in his other hand, gripping that firmly, too. “Listen up.” He looks you straight in the eye. “If you want me to move my hand, you work for it.”

In response, you increase your movements, going up and down further than before. His large cock inside you is an intense experience. It feels like your insides are on fire. While it hurts, it also gives you indescribable pleasure. As your movements grow more intense, the sounds coming from you do too. Each time you move down and his cock plunges deep into you, a cry escapes your lips.

“Yeah, like that. Let me hear you,” he whispers seductively. His hand has sped up, so you are now assaulted with pleasure from both sides. “Go deeper now.” It seems he’s fed up with letting you do the work because he also starts moving. His hand on your thigh becomes more insistent in guiding you—faster and further. His breathing is shallow, and his forehead is glistening with sweat. Sometimes, you hear him grunt softly.

Suddenly, he stops rubbing your penis and places both his hands on your back. You look at him in surprise. “Prepare yourself. I did say I would make you scream.” And just like that, you fall on your back under his guidance. His cock is still in you, and his muscular body is hanging over you. His hands grab yours and pin them to the mattress, a little above shoulder height. You’re completely in his power, and the position makes you feel exposed, fully vulnerable. Immediately, he starts pounding into you. Fast, but thoroughly. He bottoms out completely, and you feel his balls slapping against your buttocks.

“Fuck,” he murmurs. “You’re so hot. You like me deep inside you, huh?”

“Yes,” you answer with a breaking voice before you let out a scream again. “Fuck me deep!” And again you scream. With each thrust, he penetrates you to your core, and you let loose your voice—you have no control over it. Alhaitham, too, seems to be at the edge of reason.

“Damn… Take it, slut. This is what you want, right?”

After a few more exclamations, you scream his name in ecstasy. “Alhaitham!”

He speaks your name in return but doesn’t let up one bit. He continues pounding into you mercilessly. Suddenly, you notice you are close to release. “Alhaitham! I’m… I’m gonna come,” you stammer. He grins again and only redoubles his efforts to enter you as deeply as possible. The spot he’s reaching with his length is so incredibly sensitive and such an everlasting source of pleasure, he doesn’t even need to touch your cock to make you cum. You feel yourself reaching orgasm, the sperm shooting out of you, all over your belly.

“What a horny bitch you are, coming by only being stimulated in your ass.” He huffs. He seems to be getting out of breath, but he isn’t ready to slow down just yet. He keeps nudging that spot inside you, the one that almost makes you lose yourself. “You like it, don’t you?”

“Yes, Alhaitham,” you scream. Screaming is the only way you can let your voice out now—his length draws out every single sound inside you. With each thrust, you can’t help but scream. His cock goes so deep, so pleasurably, so intensely, you can’t control the sound of your voice.

“I’ll let it all out inside you,” he says with a raspy voice. His thrusts become irregular, lingering at your depths. His body spasms a little, and you feel a warm liquid filling you inside. His body releases its tension and he sinks down on you. He is heavy, but pleasantly so. His skin is damp with sweat. His cock is still pumping out the last drops of cum inside you while he lays on top of you.

You both breathe deeply, exhaustion coming over you.

“I think I’ll just fall asleep like this,” Alhaitham mutters with a sleepy voice.

“What? Alhaitham, you’re still inside me!”

But Alhaitham doesn’t answer anymore, having drifted off to sleep. Try as you might, there’s no way to move the man on top of you—damn, those muscles are heavy. And you don’t have much energy to try anyway.

Soon enough, you drift off to sleep as well, with a man for a blanket.

#Genshin Impact #Alhaitham #Alhaitham x reader #Genshin x reader #fanfiction #my writing

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semisutopia · 11 months

Text

𝘨𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘦𝘰𝘶𝘴, 𝘨𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘦𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘭

chuuya x fem!reader

being partners with chuuya is fun. it’s fun to see his silly little reactions to your comments. your banter is one thing you often look forward to, going into work.

and today was no different.

“i have such grabbable hips but no one’s grabbing them”, you say with a sigh, leaning against his office wall.

chuuya looks at you with a stern expression, “don’t you have anything better to talk about?”. you shake your head at him, “nope”.

“then i suggest you shut your mouth”. you grinned. “i don’t take orders from you”.

you could basically hear his jaw clench from across the room. “shut your mouth or i’ll shut it for you”.

you smirked, “that’s hot”. your partner stands up from his desk and walks over to you with clenched fists. “what? think you can get off lightly with your actions? think again, sweetheart”.

he stands right in front of you with a cold smirk, “don’t test me”. your smirk only widens and you lean closer to him, whispering, “i think i wanna”.

he steps even closer. “you want to test me?”, he says and grips your chin. “then you better be prepared for the consequences”.

you don’t pull away as this part was your favourite of every day. “you wanna kiss me sooo bad, it makes you look stupid”.

he smirks, “oh really?”. he pulls you closer so that your lips are only a few inches apart before he bites your bottom lip gently, not breaking eye contact with you. “i guess we’ll see if that’s the case”.

you practically whisper straight into his mouth, “yeah?”. he whispers back against your lips, “yeah”.

putting one hand behind your neck and grabbing your waist with the other, he pulls you even closer. you smirk and tilt your head to just lightly brush your lips over his and whisper, “then what’re you gonna do about it?”.

“this”, he says before closing the gap between your lips quite forcefully, causing a gasp to escape your lips for a brief moment before reciprocating.

pulling away from the kiss, you smile softly and touch your lips where he kissed you, “i see…”.

chuuya grins cheekily and tilts your head up to face him by your chin. “what can i say? i do as i please and right now, that includes you”.

you snicker at his comment, “you wanna do me?”. he smirks, “you know the answer to that question already”. “do i?”.

he chuckles and wraps both arms around your waist, pulling you closer. “stop being a tease. let’s discuss a deal, shall we?”. you were intrigued and loosely wrapped your arms around his neck. “what kind of deal?”.

“you agree to be mine and i agree to let the world know that my gorgeous, gorgeous angel belongs to me and only me”.

all rights go to @semisutopia on tumblr. please don't copy or plagiarise my work. that's really lame of you.

a/n: i'm clearly having chuuya brainrot.

#bungou stray dogs #bsd #bungou stray dogs x reader #bsd x reader #chuuya nakahara #chuuya x reader #chuuya bsd #chuya nakahara #headcanons #hcs

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yanderenightmare · 3 years

Note

Can you write some more about nice guy jock kiri? Please and thank you. Have a good day!

yandere ! KIRISHIMA EIJIRO - RED RIOT

goodiebag WARNINGS: nsfw, dubcon/noncon, suggestive language, manipulation, coercion

THAT ESCALATED QUICKLY

He said she could pick the movie this time.

He said she could pick out any movie at all. Whatever she wanted, they were going to watch. Yet in the time she’d spent making lunch, Kirishima sprawled lazily in her bed, browsing half-mindedly, eyes sliding from viewing the screen to looking at her round grabbable ass dancing as she padded about the small kitchen, begging for him to come pinch as she put the stir-fry in bowls and walked over to plot herself down next to the muscly block of man, he’d already picked a movie, far away from something she’d choose, though when eyeing what puppy-dog look he gave her, she couldn't very well say no.

Kirishima has always been clingy. She wouldn't like to call it suffocating, or controlling, though it does border on the word. But she cannot blame him for being handsy and suggestive when they’re alone, in her apartment, in her bed. He’s always been needy, always touching her, so very big-hearted and forward, easily distracted, easily discarding of tasks in favor of doing what new activity calls for his attention, like a dog.

She was becoming quite used to his confident nature, how hap-hazardously he would go about touching her, kissing and licking at her the way he so often went about doing, so much so it was strange to think that they hadn't ever actually slept together.

They had been dating for a couple weeks, and Kirishima was clear about his intentions and aspirations and wants and needs from the start, being a very open honest person, but she couldn't help but feel as though he was pushing her, nudging her, guilt-tripping her with candid words of how horny he was because of her, how frustrated he was, how frigid, how it was effecting his schoolwork, how good a boyfriend he was for waiting, for being patient and tolerant, how she couldn't blame him for wanting something in return, even though that something was a thing she wasn't ready to give him.

It would be wrong if she said he didn't respect her wishes, because he had, albeit begrudgingly. Each time she invited him over, or... he invited himself over, when he became rowdy, it would always take a good amount of bargaining and persuasion on her side, which was always met with even more coaxing and encouragement from him. How he would message his hand into the inside of her thigh, and she would push ever so gently to keep him at bay until he finally laid off, the mood stiff and awkward as he left her apartment to walk to his own place, alone, with a rejected boner he would have to take care of alone, then go to sleep alone, and wake up alone. He had still respected her wish in the end, or... maybe not respected, but at least accepted it.

She hadn't picked out the movie, and it being something she hadn't really invested very much thought into, she didn't try and stop him from nuzzling into her neck, kissing and sucking on the tender flesh found there. She allowed him to lift her shirt up to rub circles into her stomach with his warm roughened hand, let him grab and grope and mold her breast through the fabric of her bra, let him swing his leg over her body, to lock her position beneath him and his brawny heavy frame as he cuddled into her.

She could already feel the stiff bulge bump into her thigh, tried to forgive him for always riling himself up when he knows what her answer’s going to be, knows how she isn't ready to give him what he wants. Hearing his breathing picking up, becoming rugged and raspy, hot against her neck as he tried humping into her, having rolled and positioned and handled both their bodies so he could lie between her thighs, face mushed into the soft skin of her neck, nipping at her collarbones , spiky hair poking into the underside of her chin, hands abrasive when squeezing at the flesh of her ass and thighs, gripping them to lock around his torso, venturing to grab at her waist and breasts, becoming more and more frenzied, more and more rugged, forgetting his strength, forgetting her protests, getting more and more carried away.

She jolted once she felt his fingers hook into the band of her panties, having slipped up her skirt and spidered playfully up her thigh. She grabbed his arms loosely, small hands obviously not able to wrap around the thickness of his muscles, though applying what strength she deemed necessary to make him take her seriously, lightly digging her fingernails into his skin. “Uhm, Kiri-” She squeaked unsurely, breaching the shapeless noisy silence of heavy breathing and rugged groans and building growls that had filled the room, movie still quietly playing in the background, white noise completely ignored by the burning of her ears.

“Come on, let me feel.” He purred into her ear, giving her lobe a nibble.

“Uhm, I don't think-” She shoved at him, balls of her feet digging into the mattress, trying to sit up.

He laid his weight down on her, immobilizing her movement, keeping her under him. “Come on...” He drawled, voice rumbling. “Please?” Mumbling into her skin, knowing how it always makes her giggle from the tickle by the light scruff on his chin, knowing it makes her sweet and pliable. “Pretty please? It’ll feel good, I promise.”

He didn't really wait for any response, his face mushed into her neck, seeming cute as he pleaded but also acting as a great trap, his hand succeeded in pushing her panties aside, warm worn fingers, foreignly larger cuddled with the sensitivity kept there. His breath shuddered, lips spreading into a toothy grin against her neck, so wide she could feel it.

“Aww.” He moaned. “That’s so warm and wet.” She cringed, but hadn't the time to tell him to stop, hadn't the time to decide that she valued her limits more than maintaining the good vibe, and then she hadn't the mind to really think about it at all, too preoccupied with wrapping her thoughts around the fact that Eijiro had just pushed one thick knuckled finger inside her, roughly at that, pumped it in, stuffed her with it, with an equally chaffed thumb-pad laying heavy pressure down into her little beading clit.

It would probably have felt awful, the brutish boyish clumsy inconsiderate rubbing, but having him dry-hump into her for the better half of the entire movie made for a little messy spill between her thighs, perfectly ready to make whatever rough movement he gave seem like God’s touch, enough to have her moan at once.

“Does that feel good?” He asked, cocky undertone almost completely smoked out by livid lust, his arousal so very clear in his voice as he removed his weight when feeling her body melt and comply to what his hand was giving her of bliss. His large muscly frame rising to kneel between her legs, having her thighs hiked up and spread atop of his, forehead resting against hers. She bobbed her head in a series of quick sporadic nods, teeth biting harshly into her lip as she watched with a bowed head his finger disappear in and out the vulnerable sensitivity found between her spread thighs, the smell of beer on his heavy hot breaths fan over her face before he kissed her head. “You wanna cum?” She gave a moan, indicating an unspoken yes as he rubbed his thumb over and over her tender pearl, pushing another one of his long fingers inside her, making her gasp out a moan, mewing as he curled and scissored the two digits inside her, making her inevitable unraveling arrive much quicker.

He wiped his sticky hand on his pant leg with a small smug smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth, watching as her head fell back to rest against the pillow again, beginning to unbutton his jeans.

The sound of him sliding down his zipper pulled her focus back, eyelids fluttering open just in time to watch him pull his throbbing hard erection out with a sigh. And though the red-head had gone about the reveal in an unceremonious manner, whether it was out of lack of showmanship or Kirishima deeming it unnecessary, it didn't really matter to the virgin beneath him. She took one look and she wasn’t able to look away. A surprising black bush drew her focus at first, what more the two easter-eggs that seemed to be nestling there, but not before long her eyes felt the need to follow what bulging pumping purple vein ran up the underside of the thickness, almost like a spine, or a pin that reached up to a red-blushed head, glossed like a candy-apple, with a slit running though it and a spill of pre-cum dripping down to disappear in the dark forest below.

She could swear it sized up to her whole arm’s-length.

Her eyebrows knitted as she continued eyeing the hard pole, watching it bob with strength, straining against his stomach, standing proudly on it’s own as he lifted his shirt off his arms and shoulders, throwing it to the floor, revealing what mouthwatering washboard rock-hard abs he kept beneath.

His hand once again reached out, this time to grab her wrist, guiding her shaking hand back to his thick member, watching her hesitate to wrap her delicate little fingers around his length once he squeezed her wrist too hard in impatience, seeing her bite her lip at the feel of the almost rubbery-smooth texture of his length in her palm, warm to the touch. His larger hand wrapped around her smaller one, guiding the movement as he started pumping up and down.

He groaned, head hung and resting atop her shoulder where he knelt with her sitting form in his lap, red eyes with wide pupils locked on watching her small hand loosely holding onto him, his cock looking so unbelievably huge in her tiny grasp, like some beast, where the more he thought about it and the more he looked, it was big compared to all of her, he could only imagine what she was thinking as she eyed his length with that cute childish level of curiosity and sweet tinge of virgin anxiety. She needed to bite her lip to prevent it from trembling, wanting to squeeze her thighs shut when they too became unruly, wanting to protect what was kept between them.

It only made his cock throb even harder.

“I- fuck-” He grunted, thrusting shallowly up into her hand by angling his hips up, looking down upon her enticing pretty silken dew-kissed heat, his finger greedily reaching to touch the tender entrance only to hear her whimper out a small whine at once when his rough digits brazenly made contact. “You’re so shy, it’s adorable.”

The loosely given hand-job felt good around his priorly ignored arousal, what with how sensitive he was, but was missing what her pussy was welcomingly dripping with.

He lowered himself, hand grabbing his base to steady the attack, yet was declined by her placing her own hand in front of the poor unsuspecting virgin tightness. “Uhm, Kiri- I-”

He shushed at her, prying her hand easily away, replacing it with his own, rubbing those electrical patterns he did before into her pretty budding pearl. “No, no, Baby. Come on. Pretty please, it’ll feel so good, I’ll be gentle okay? It’ll be good, I promise.” He swirled his thumb over her clit, an act far from gentle, though sending those sharp involuntary spikes of pleasure into her core, giving to something pooling in her stomach, something warm and sticky and heavier than before, almost burdening with how it strained in the muscles of her thighs, making her shake beneath the man’s mere thumb. “I love you, Baby, don't you want us to take the next step?”

“Uhm...” She gasped as he abused the sensitivity under his course strength.

“Thank you, Baby.” He purred, lips carved into a smile fit for devouring, planting kisses down her face and into her neck, his cock pushing into the velvet folds.

But she backed up, balls of her feet pushing into the mattress, her palms doing the same, but Kirishima had other plans, none of them including letting her up.

“Kiri, no-” She pushed lightly at his chest then, as she’d done before, trying to soothe and smooth over the feathers she’d ruffled, trying ever so gently in those small soft caresses to apologize for having riled him up so.

But seems this time he wouldn't have that either, her hands cupped and pulled rather dismissively out of the way, dominated by his own and how he intertwined his digits, raking them in with her dainty ones, locking their hands, or rather securing hers, before pushing them flat into the sheets beside her, giving him full access to what lied beneath him without her bothersome fists getting in his way. “Come on, Babe... stop being a little tease...” Her hands slipped their confinements in his as he rather needed them to manage her body, felt that twitching itch to grab and grope and tug and pull at all her doughy flesh. She gasped as he groped a mans handful of her ass, bumping his bare cock into her, rubbing it up and over her pussy, bobbing between their stomachs.

His face was still so adamant on nibbling at the flesh of her collar, leaving what she knew to be ugly swelling purple stains that turned into those vile green and yellow marks looking like fungus blooming on her skin. “I’m sorry-” It was all too much to have his warm skin pressed against her, his naked hardness, all of him, his rough hands, his brutish needle-sharp teeth, that thing that poked at her, humped into her where he’d made a sticky wet hot mess, with her underwear put somewhere out of sight and most definitely out of reach. “I’m not ready to-” Her hands tried softly but with increasing effort at getting him off, trying to get her discomfort across to the seemingly clueless baboon who was handling her body to his own selfish ends on top of her.

“It’s fine.” His voice was heated, soft despite trodding over her own, as he tried calming her down, again with his hands tugging at her wrists and pushing the annoying things away from him, again so he could lie himself down on top of her. “We’ll try something-” His efforts at soothing her weren’t appreciated by the girl beneath as she continued pushing, bordering on thrashing beneath the giant red-head.

“Kiri, stop. ” There was an edge to her voice this time, an edge he didn’t appreciate.

Large hand wrapped their fingers around her wrist and crushed it with a strength she couldn't hope to match, a dark chuckle following, rumbling just beside her ear alongside a small smile carving his lips at the cute pop of bones followed by her whimper. “Stop being so difficult, Babe.” He chastised, voice dismissive and completely unbothered by her spiked struggles, treating her reluctance like it was nothing but a minor inconvenience he could simply swat away like a fly. “I know you’ll like it, you just need to-”

“I don’t need to do anything!” She cried now, adorable small whines as she tried prying her hand out of his hold. “Get off me!”

“Kinda feels like you’re trying to piss me off here.” His tone darkened, and so did the look in his eyes, and though she was just short of bawling with the lump of hopelessness and fear caught stuck in her throat, the adrenaline gave her such a rush of confidence as her leg finally managed to shuffle under his, allowing her to knee him right in that swelled thick slug he was so transfixed on appeasing.

And though she managed briefly to slip out from beneath him, it was no victory, and she felt that ounce of triumph that fluttered in her heart snuff out at the feel of his brawny taunt and rock hard arms wrap around her torso, hoisting her off the ground, only to throw her right back where she’d been laying not moments ago.

“Please, Eijirou, please, you're scaring me, stop.” She kicked now, flopping beneath him like a fish hauled up on a boat, tried prying her hands out of his grasp yet couldn't stop him from holding her down, rolling her on her stomach while he pulled off his uniform necktie, bending her arms behind her back and tightening the noose around her wrists, pulling the tail between them to secure the knot tightly, before rolling her back with her hands being crushed beneath her.

Her face reappeared tear-slicked and panicked. “There we go, all pretty and perfect for me.” He lightly tapped her face as he stuffed her mouth with the panties he fished back up from his pockets, settling between her legs again as she whined through the make-shift gag.

Rough course hand, like sandpaper, like rock, slid down between her thighs, slowly in their venture, pushing and kneading into the softness, hungry as they groped and pushed her open, wrapped her around his torso so he could slap his rock-solid cock onto her vulnerable little opening.

“Let me paint a picture for you, Babe.” He started, catching her attention.

Her eyes so unbelievably wide as she looked up at him through the thick hazy ominous darkness of the room, a darkness that once seemed so cozy now so overwhelming, the sun having gone down, the TV turned to black, the lights left off and the only glimmer coming from the streetlights and the dim white glow of the moon shining in through her window, leaving Kirishima’s sharp teeth to hang above her and how they seemed to drip, eerie shadows cast upon his face, eyes red and hazy, drooped to slits, drunk and cocky as he continued rubbing his cockhead up through the lips of her pussy ever so causally, like she wasn’t bound and bawling beneath him.

“So listen up and listen carefully. Can you do that, Babe?”

She felt cold suddenly, chilled to her core by his tone, reduced to shivering beneath his confident touch, shuddering where she laid, chest pushed upward above the support her arms gave, head drawing in the dune of her pillow, thighs lifted to straddle her boyfriend’s waist, his hand keeping her there by curling his thumb into the underside of her knee.

“The way I see it, you have two options.” He leaned in, voice sturdy but soft like a straight-jacket. “Either you be my good girl and give me what’s mine.” Tone swooping low into a growl. “Or...”

His hands moved steadily as they began unbuttoning her shirt from the bottom up, planting a kiss on the newly exposed skin of her tummy, just short of her belly-button. The light scruff of his chin tickling the thin skin it rubbed against as he continued licking and nibbling on the flesh the more it was exposed to him.

“You run along to your friends, tell them what a bad bad guy I am. They ask for proof, but silly little you have no proof to give.” He chuckled, warm breath breezed on the peach-fuzz of her chest as he kept sucking his marks into her, hands fingering the last of her buttons. “People love me, Buttercup, so let me ask you this...” The crimson spikes of his hair stuck into the underside of her chin as he licked up her throat, kissed her jaw and bit at her earlobe, whispering. “Who’s side you think they gonna take?” Humming as he watched another fat tear run down her cheek. “You go to the teachers, they ask for proof, something you still don’t have because there is none. And even if they did believe you... no saying they’d do anything about it. I’m destined to be a billboard hero. Do you really think they’ll throw all that away on some ditz from general studies?” Question after question, answer after answer, each one another stab and twist of the rusty blade in her hope. “Think again.” With her shirt open she witnessed him morph his hand into sharp rock, a jagged finger burrowing beneath the bridge of her bra and cutting the thick fabric loose, now fully exposed to his mouthful of teeth and slobbering tongue. “Hate to break it to you, but that’s not how the world works, Sweetheart.”

She closed her eyes, clamped them shut, but it only helped her feel all his entitled actions even more, how he moved, rightfully, regardlessly, without regret or remorse. She swore she could feel him pulsating against her, his cock pumping against her swollen clit, where she could argue that the rip of him tearing apart her skirt was the loudest noise she’d ever heard in her life.

“And perhaps it ends there, but I know you. You continue, trying to make anyone believe you, eventually ending up in management for crazy obsessed fanatic fangirls -of which I have many- or you give up.” His mouth enclosed her nipple, tongue swirling around the bud, fingers tweaking the other breast with boyish greediness. “Either way, you end up missing. With no friends to bother coming to find you, thinking that your delusional ass offed yourself, when in reality...”

Large hand curling around her neck, squeezing as he rose to look down at her, rock his hips to allow his cock more friction, sliding up and down between her thighs, bobbing against her stomach, thrumming and spilling thick whiteness, dripping and smearing onto her skin.

“You’re right back here with me.”

Her heart skipped, seemed to stop, everything seemed to stop. His words hung poised, forgetting how to drop, like dust settling, lingering about the air as she looked up at him, thinking he looked like the onset of hell, like a demon, his hair like horns, his eyes like hellfire, and those teeth, those sharp unforgiving teeth.

“You see, if you don’t give, I will take.” He juggled her head with the tight grip he had on her jaw, playing with her as his other hand swept through her delicate sensitive folds, made her cringe, try and shimmy away, all to his disgusting amusement shown in the snaggletooth that hooked over his lip as he smirked a grim curled line. “And right now it looks to me like I might just have to show you just how defenseless you are to stop me.” His digits wiggled inside her, and she whined into her panties as she sucked on them, her eyes clinging to the dangerous heat simmering inside his. “Aww see? You’re already getting so wet. Your body sure knows who it belongs to, I’m sure you will too, very soon.”

#yandere eijiro kirishima #yandere kirishima #yandere eijiro #yandere eijirou #yandere kirishima eijiro #yandere red riot #kirishima smut #yandere kirishima eijiro #bnha eijiro kirishima #bnha kirishima #eijirou x reader #kirishima eijiro x reader #eijirou kirishima imagine #eijirou x you #bnha eijirou #yandere boku no hero academia #yandere mha #yandere my hero academia #yandere bnha

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kim-poce · 2 years

Text

Alex and Neo 47 - She can't know

Previous | Next

Masterlist

CW: gun mention, implied past noncon, low self-esteem, shame.

=====

Kenneth was taller now, but he looked so much weaker, his tanned skin used to be darker from all the time under the sun and Aurora couldn't shake the thought of someone locking him away from it, the window in the room just made her confused, the nice room didn’t match all the scars on his body.

There was a big scar on his face, from his cheek to his chin, there was also one on his neck, and it doesn't matter how much she thought about it that injury could have killed him. How many times could she have lost him forever? How close was she to look for a dead person? Would she ever give up?

Fighting all the odds, Aurora was as calm as the situation allowed her, even if close to her limits. Keneth was here, it was a good thing, he is under a new name but still here, just in front of her, looking in the mirror as she got ready to cut his hair, just his presence was enough to make Aurora want to cry, it was four long years, and she wanted it all to go back to like it was before, the hunger and cold were better than that, but it can't go back, Kenneth is right. They changed.

As she cut his reddish-brown hair, the same color as hers, she tried to think about the future, instead, only flashbacks of this day came at her, the guns aimed at her head, the seemly emotionless woman, Kenneth hiding away from her, crying, afraid, and she used all her strength not to break down crying too.

-----

Neo was taking a deep breath after another, he saw that Aurora noticed him flinching at the sight of the scissors, even if she pretended she didn’t, this made him feel more shame than he thought he was able to.

But, he was happy she was there, even with all the feelings burning inside of him, and he was relieved to have his hair cut, it was getting long, too grabbable, it was getting hard to wash away the feeling of Ash’s hands on it, maybe it’ll be easier now.

Ash’s hand. Now froze at the thought, his lungs stopping while his heart raced, she can’t find out, no, she can’t, Aurora can know about everything else if she wants to, but he can’t allow her to know what Ash used him as. How would she look at me? What would she think? Would she even touch me after knowing? Aren’t I too dirty to be this close to her?

“S-stop,” he hated how his voice sounded like begging, he didn’t want to show her this side of him, “A-a break, I’m sorry.”

“No need to be sorry, my hand was getting tired already,” Aurora said with a careless smile, how can she be so calm? how can she be able to look at him as if he wasn’t a shell of someone she used to know?

Neo nodded, he needed her not to be touching him for a while, he needed to shake the feeling that she will get dirty by simply touching him.

-----

Aurora wanted to hug him and not let go ever again, and she would he wasn’t wincing away from her every touch, Does he blame me? he thought, It’s my fault, maybe if I had fought too, or if I wasn’t walking alone in the first place, if he hadn’t me to protect-

No! she thought-shouted to herself, she was there before, drowning in those thoughts, but it wasn’t her fault, it was the aggressor's fault, nor hers, but does it truly matter? she held her tears in, it feels like my fault anyway.

“Let’s continue, please?” Kenneth said, and Aurora was glad to do so, at least this way she had something to focus on, and needed it, it felt like she was just one word away to simply break.

=====

Taglist: @cupcakes-and-pain, @whump-blog, @wolfeyedwitch, @octopus-reactivated, @whumpkinpie, @equinix, @stuck-in-this-mortal-form, @melancholy-in-the-morning, @neverthelass, @latenightcupsofcoffee, @rose-pinkie, @whumpcreations

#Alex and Neo #Neo #Aurora #whump #implied past noncon #low self-esteem #my writing

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bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher · 4 years

Text

Your Sword for a Kiss Part Two

(I bet you’ll never see it coming)

Part One

---

Jaskier was perhaps the wiggliest creature that Geralt had ever encountered. The sprite seemed capable of finding every single one of the knight’s sensitive spots by accident. The offhanded brush of fingers against a collarbone, the sweep of a hand against his cheek while Jaskier gestured, the insistent writhe and press of Jaskier’s perky, recently-nude ass against Geralt’s groin as they rode along.

The knight was glad the brunette couldn’t see his burning face. Jaskier could, however, feel the mortal man’s temperature increasing, even through the many layers of his shirtsleeves, linked silver mail, and leather armor. He turned halfway around in the saddle and noted Geralt’s red-tinted face, even though the knight avoided meeting his gaze. “Geralt, my darling, are you feeling feverish?”

“No, Jaskier. My clothing is heavy and the sun is high. That is all.”

“Hmm. Are you sure you’re not sick?”

One of the sprite’s unnaturally chilly hands cupped the side of Geralt’s overheated neck rather suddenly and the knight moaned at the cool, comforting sensation. He bit his tongue halfway through the sound, effectively strangling it in his throat. “My apologies, Jaskier. That was not very chivalrous of me.”

“On the contrary,” the sprite wiggled his eyebrows along with his slender, grabbable hips, “I rather liked it.”

“It’s not...polite.”

“I did not grow up at court,” Jaskier shrugged, letting his hands drift up to play with the tie in Geralt’s long white hair. “So I do not have to follow the rules of polite society.”

“I didn’t grow up at court either,” the knight gasped. Jaskier’s very clever hands were now kneading the taut muscles at the back of his neck and forcing them to relax. His arms tightened automatically around the sprite’s narrow waist as the rest of him sunk into a state of gentle comfort and happiness. “Jaskier.”

“Yes, darling?”

“Huh?” Geralt blinked his eyes open - when had he closed them? - and looked down at the slightly shorter man.

“You said my name.”

“No I didn’t.”

“Alright,” Jaskier grinned smugly. “I guess you didn’t.”

---

“Presenting Sir Geralt of Rivia and his guest at Camelot, Sir Jaskier of the Wooded Glen.”

Geralt and Jaskier rounded the corner and entered the Great Hall, at the far end of which sat Arthur on his throne. Jaskier paused to bow the way Geralt had taught him and laughed when the mortal monarch’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Jaskier!” the King cried, leaping to his feet. The royal steadied himself as the giddy sprite approached and bowed deeply to the young woodland creature. Jaskier giggled as he reached the King’s side and patted the ruler of Camelot gently on the crown of his bent head.

“Arthur! How lovely to see you!”

“J-Jaskier!?” Geralt questioned. He was still standing just inside the doorway, shocked at the recent turn of events.

“Oh, right, silly me!” Jaskier smiled. “Enough bowing, my good King Arthur. I need you to grant my boon, and you can’t do that while glaring down at the carpet.”

“Excuse me, my liege?” the King asked, standing back to his full height and quirking a confused eyebrow. Geralt was going to swoon. He was going to cry. He was going to wake up any second now and realize this was all a dream. Except that it wasn’t. At all. Arthur Pendragon, King of Camelot and creator of the Round Table...was referring to Jaskier as his liege? Bowing to the overly chatty sprite? Showing the utmost respect to a man who had, not fifteen minutes prior, explained the absurdity of having to wear trousers in public to the guardsman at the gate? It didn’t make any sense.

“Your knight errant here, Sir Geralt of Rivia, was slaking his thirst from my sacred lake when his sword fell from its sheath and entered my waters.”

“His first gift,” Arthur gasped.

“Exactly that,” the sprite nodded. “I accepted it, of course. I mean, look at him; his hair alone would make a lesser nymph go weak in the knees. Sir Geralt then asked to have his sword back, clearly unaware of the circumstances we’d suddenly found ourselves in. I agreed to return it, but only if he granted me a kiss.”

“A kiss which could not be given without my consent, due to his oath as a Knight of the Round Table,” Arthur realized. He bowed again, quickly, to the great amusement of the water sprite. “My apologies for any inconvenience, Jaskier. Geralt is a recent addition to my retinue and clearly didn’t know.”

“Didn’t know what?” Geralt interrupted. He was feeling incredibly lost.

“You clearly didn’t know who my mother is,” Jaskier beamed. His teeth, razor sharp against the delicate pink skin of his lips, had Geralt holding back a gentle shudder. “She’s rather important around here.”

“Is she some noble lady I have yet to meet?” Geralt asked.

Arthur shook his head and Jaskier’s birdsong laugh flew all the way up into the rafters, melodic and sweet. “Silly mortal,” the sprite wiped a tear from his eye, “My mother is the much renowned and venerated Lady of the Lake.”

Geralt does swoon, then.

Right onto the floor of Camelot’s Great Hall.

---

“So do you really want to marry me?” Geralt asked, rubbing his hand up and down the back of his neck as if that could melt the awkward tension away. When he’d woken up in a set of unfamiliar rooms with Jaskier draped across the chaise lounge, shirt and smalls the only clothes remaining, Geralt had panicked a little. Then Jaskier very gently explained that Arthur had essentially given them the honeymoon suite.

“I’d like to, yes.”

“W-Why?”

“Geralt, my sweet,” the sprite chuckled, moving to sit on the bed next to his reclining fiancée. He tucked a piece of the knight’s loose white hair behind his ear, “You are the most beautiful human I’ve ever seen. I wish to have you with me always.”

“You want to marry me...because I’m pretty to look at?” Geralt blushed.

“No,” Jaskier rolled his eyes. “I said it’s because you’re beautiful. You played by my rules and still stood your ground when it came to your morals and beliefs. You kept your oath to Arthur as well as your promise to me. There are very few nobles at this court who deserve that word as a descriptor. You however, Sir Geralt of Rivia, deserve it entirely. You are truly and undoubtedly noble.”

“Thank you, My Liege,” Geralt dipped his head.

“None of that nonsense,” the sprite huffed, lifting Geralt’s chin back up. “Jaskier will do.”

“Hmm. Jaskier.”

“I have a wedding present for you. It’s a bit of a tradition in my family.”

“Oh? I don’t have anything for you,” Geralt frowned.

“No need. Your heart is enough of a gift already. My gift is more ceremonial than anything.”

“A-alright.”

Jaskier made a few quick hand movements and a long, thin pouch appeared on the bed before him. Geralt pulled the opening wide and removed a heavy silver sword. His golden eyes went wide and shocked, “Jaskier this is...”

“I know it’s not much in comparison to Excalibur but I’m not exactly the Lady of the Lake, I’m just her son-”

“It’s amazing.”

“You like it?”

“Yes. Very much,” Geralt balanced the sword in his hands for a moment. He set it back on top of the velvet pouch and smiled widely at the nervous sprite, “I love it. I love...you. Or I will, very shortly. I suspect that it will be hard not to love you.”

“Sweet Geralt,” the sprite sighed, resting his hand against the knight’s lightly stubbled cheek. “I cannot wait to kiss you.”

“Do you want to kiss me now, then?”

“Tomorrow, when we’re married. I’ll kiss you as befitting of a bride.”

“Wh-”

“Until tomorrow!”

And Jaskier was gone.

---

The kiss was sweet and tender and soft; everything Geralt had ever hoped his first kiss after so many years would be. Jaskier had the fingers of one hand curled gently into the back of the knight’s moon-white hair. His other hand was gripping the knight’s left hip. Geralt’s hands were both wrapped around Jaskier’s waist, holding him close. The sprite’s lips were soft and his mouth felt cool. The knight never knew a kiss could be so refreshing until this moment.

When they finally pulled apart for air, Jaskier smiled and kissed the taller man on the corner of his mouth. “You look lovely, Geralt.

“As do you, husband.”

There was a teasing glint in the fae man’s eyes when he kissed the knight full on the mouth again and laughed brightly. The laugh that had first captured Geralt’s heart not two days earlier; “I love you already, my pretty wife!”

Geralt’s spluttering was drowned out by yet another kiss. And another after that.

#geraskier #you thought i was gonna make jaskier the wife? FOOLS #GERALT IS THE WIFE NOW #geraskier ficlet #geraskier camelot au #witcher camelot au #geraskier fic #soft geralt #your sword for a kiss #shy geralt #nervous geralt #soft jaskier #gentle jaskier #jaskier hates wearing pants #sprite jaskier #fae jaskier #water sprite jaskier #camelot #geraskier knight au

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ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa · 4 years

Text

Never Let Me Go: Part 1 of 2

Summary/Author's Notes: Confession time. I have been @stevieharrrr 's "Daily Carrillo Thirst Anon" for some time now. Y'all seemed to really want this! So, after some idea bouncing, friendly threatening, and overall caps-lock screaming at one another, this is my poker chip that I am raising Stevie in the Carrillo feels war. (This takes place in season 2... episode 4)

Pairing: Col. Horacio Carrillo x Reader

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: 18+ -- SMUT, oral f!receiving, fingering, THICC CARRILLO ARMS/HANDS, language, violence, CHARACTER DEATH (I'm not kidding with this one y'all, I know it fucks me up when I read it in fic so you have been warned.) Cannon-divergence, this is a FIX IT FIC, if that makes you feel better. Gif by @el-cheung

And the questions I have for a sinner like me

But the arms of the ocean deliver me

MASTERLIST

Being married to Horacio had never been easy. You had lost count of the number of times you had moved, the number of houses you both had tried to make a home, and the number of times you had almost thrown in the towel. The key word being almost.

Colonel Horacio Carillo was a man's man. If anyone opened up a dictionary and looked up the word 'brave', a picture of your husband would be underneath. Along with the word reckless, cunning, ruthless, and a whole slew of other things that his superiors like to throw in his face when something didn't go according to plan. His strong resolve kept the underlying volcano of his rage carefully under wraps. And if you asked the man himself, he would attribute it entirely to you. According to him, the moment he put that ring on your finger was the moment he had a reason to not give in to his unbridled savagery, his desire to get the job done no matter what it cost. And so far, you were okay with that. You could play the dutiful wife on the sidelines, you could be his anchor, because as soon as his feet crossed the threshold of your home, he was no longer Bogetà's Atlas. He finally got to take all of Columbia off of his shoulders and fall into your waiting arms.

And that's the reason when you received the call that he would be working late for the third night in a row, you decided to do something about it. Hanging up the phone, you got dressed, pulling that small floral print dress that he loved so much over your head. You shimmied it down your ass and it just ghosted the middle of your thighs. The small pink and red flowers on top of the wispy white fabric made your skin look softer somehow, grabbable--at least that's what your husband had told you the first time you wore it out to the farmer's market. You picked up the phone again and called in his favorite take out from the small shop around the corner, balancing the receiver against your shoulder as you put on a touch of makeup and a bright pink lip stain.

By the time you arrived, the precinct was winding down for the night. A few of the regulars were standing around, and there was a general uneasiness in the air. Your high heels clicked against the laminate floor and it sounded way too loud, making you second guess your apparel.

"Mhm, what's that smell?"

Javier Peña turned from his pair of desks as you made your way across the office with the bag of takeout hanging over your forearm, your car keys jingling in your hand.

"Good evening, boys," you gave a small wave at the two DEA agents and continued on your path.

"Where's mine?" Steve Murphy, Javier's partner asked, leaning back in his chair.

"Sorry, Steve," you laughed softly, walking backwards a couple of steps. "Next time, okay?"

"Carrillo's a lucky son of a bitch!" Steve called after you and you shook your head feeling your cheeks blush. Javier mumbled something undoubtedly crude under his breath and Steve elbowed him in the ribs drawing a grunt from his partner before they both sat back to work.

Boys. That's what the two of them were and you weren't sure how Horacio put up with it all day. You raised a hand and tapped your knuckles against the glass bearing your own last name.

"Come in."

His voice made your shoulders relax. You let out a breath that you felt like you had been holding for the last three days, and walked into his office, closing the door behind you.

Colonel Carrillo looked up from the stack of papers on his desk and his eyes widened. Clearly expecting literally anyone but you to walk through his office door and it was humorous just how quickly his stoic persona melted in front of your eyes. He stood up abruptly, taking off his glasses and saying softly, "Mi amor?"

"Hey," you said, setting the to-go bag on a clear spot of his desk. "I thought you might be hungry."

"You didn't have to do this," he said, still looking surprised that you were actually standing in front of him. He stopped down as you offered your cheek to him and he gave it a small peck.

"I know."

"Ernesto's?" He raised an eyebrow and looked into the bag, inhaling deeply.

"Mhm," you nodded, reaching in and taking out the styrofoam boxes one at a time.

Carrillo rubbed his chin, looking you over slowly before shaking his head with a grin. "Thank you." He walked around the desk slowly, twisting the string on the blinds to his office window until they closed fully. You didn't look up from your task of setting out dinner until you heard the firm 'click' of the lock on the door.

"Horacio?" You asked over your shoulder as he rubbed his palms together and walked back over to you.

"So we won't be bothered," he said simply with a shrug and you nodded.

"When is the last time you ate?" You asked, lifting an eyebrow at him.

"I had coffee this morning." He admitted rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. You knew you were the only one that ever got to see that flicker of embarrassment in his eyes, like he had somehow disappointed you. He didn't give a damn what anyone else thought of his actions, but your opinion was always held in his highest regard.

"Coffee is not a food group. How many times do I have to tell you that?" You said, pressing your lips together in a tight line.

"Of course it is. Because you know what I'm like without it." He chuckled.

"Oh, I absolutely do," you laughed. "A bear in a uniform--"

Your hands paused on the food as you felt his large arms slide around your waist, his tender lips finding their way to the base of your neck. Was he trying to distract you from your current annoyance at his poor excuse for nutrition? Maybe. Was it working? Also maybe.

"I haven't seen this dress in awhile," he mumbled against your skin, removing one of his arms to pull your hair to the side and out of his way. He kissed his way up your neck then back down to your shoulder, soft feather light touches that made your eyes close for a brief second.

"You haven't been home in awhile." It was meant as a joke, a harmless jest, but your smile fell as you felt him tense behind you. You turned in his arms slowly, putting both hands on his broad chest. "I didn't mean it like that." You whispered, fingers playing along the collar of his army green button up. Your fingers traced the path against the embroidered name badge over his heart and you wished you hadn't said anything. The moments you did get together lately were so brief that any that weren't dedicated to loving one another felt like time wasted.

He didn't want to be gone all of the time. He made sure you knew that. The war on Escobar wouldn't wait just because one man's wife was missing him. There were plenty of men who never returned home. Escobar had left many widows in the wake of his cocaine empire and every time the man in front of you walked through the door and into your arms you thanked your lucky stars. You didn't believe in much, but you thanked every deity that might have been listening for keeping him safe.

"I know," he said, trying to give you a smile but unable to keep the sadness off of the edges.

"Come on," you said, nodding to the food. "It's gonna get cold."

"Not yet."

He kept his arms firmly planted around your waist, his hands slipping lower to take two huge handfuls of your ass. The movement made the dress lift slightly, the material bunching in his grip. You gave him a surprised look and he bit his lip, playfully waggling his eyebrows at you. It made you giggle. God, how you missed him when he wasn't home. This playful, boyish side of him that made you walk on air. The side of him that made it seem like you both were young and in love and didn't live in a war torn country.

"I thought you were hungry?" You asked as he continued his way up your neck to the shell of your ear.

"I am." He worked his way back down, kissing the tops of your breasts as he walked you a step backwards against his desk. "But not for take out."

"Even Ernesto's?" You gave a mock gasp of shock and smiled, letting your fingers card through his hair as he pulled the scoop neck of your dress down and squeezed your breast in his large hand. "I thought it was your favorite!"

"There's something I like more," he said, looking up at you with dark brown eyes, refusing to lift his lips from the mound of your breasts. It made the heat rise to your cheeks.

"Here?" You asked and as a response he reached around you and shoved a stack of files off of his desk and to the ground with a loud clunk.

"Yes. Here." His words were firm and he shoved a few books off of the desk to join the papers on the floor. He gripped your waist and picked you up to sit you on the edge of his desk, nudging your thighs open with his knee and standing between them. "Think you can be quiet, dulzura?"

"You know the answer to that," you giggled again, cupping his face in both of your hands as he closed in on you. You were not a quiet lover and he often told you it was one of his favorite things. The way you said his name as he brought you through your orgasm was his most favorite song and he liked when it was turned up loud.

You reached for the front of his dark slacks, palming the bulge at the front of his pants and he gripped your wrist with a shake of his head. "Not yet," he brought your hand up to his lips and kissed it before putting it back on the desk. He put his hands up the dress and gripped your underwear, sliding them over your hips and down your legs. The lace got tangled on the heel of your pump and you kicked them off with a shake of your foot.

"Kiss me again," you demanded with a shaky breath and he happily obliged.

His tongue slipped inside your mouth as one arm held you tightly and his other hand went up your dress. His thick fingers pressed against your labia and you moaned into his mouth as he began to run them up and down, slowly spreading your wetness. He pressed your clit and you jolted, it was too much too quickly and you gripped his neck.

"Mi amor?" He asked and when you hummed in response he continued. "Lift your dress."

You did as you were told. With excited hands and a hammering heart, he helped you pull the soft material up over your thighs, letting it bunch around your waist as he went to his knees in front of you. Those dark, chocolate colored eyes that you loved with all of your heart never strayed from your own as he hooked one of your legs over his shoulder. He let out a small noise of content as you ran your fingers through his hair and the noise carried over as he pressed his mouth to your aching cunt. With a gasp and your head thrown back, your hair cascading down your back, your husband would have said that you looked like a vision--if his mouth wasn't already preoccupied.

Carrillo's hands slid around each of your thighs, kneading the soft flesh and keeping them wide open for his broad shoulders to sit comfortably in the middle. His tongue slipped through your wet pussy like it had a hundred times before, but it still made you moan his name softly to the empty office around you. Your husband may have been a man of few words, but he liked to say he used his mouth for much more precious things.

He sucked each of your folds separately, a soft pop sound coming each time he moved to the next spot. When he finally closed his mouth around your clit, you gasped sharply and grabbed his hand that was resting on top of your thigh and squeezed it.

"There?" He mumbled from between your legs and you nodded.

"There. Right there."

"Right there. Mhmm, I see," he teased your desperation but continued to oblige your request. He worked his jaw against you in such a way that you imagined he was coating his face with your juices like you were the most delicious of fruits. The wonderfully crude image made your cunt twitch and he groaned.

He kept a firm grip on your hand, lacing his fingers with yours as he continued to suck your clit. You wanted so much more right now. You wanted his cock inside of you. You wanted his hand around your neck. You wanted him to flip you over and take your ass. Suddenly you wished more than anything that the two of you were home so you didn't have to pick what you wanted most, you just had to pick which one you wanted first.

"Horacio," you moaned his name, rocking your hips forward gently against his chin. You bit your lip and closed your eyes, the feeling of how well he knew your body started to overwhelm you. In the years you had been together he had taken so much time memorizing every spot that made you sigh, every place that made you break out in goosebumps, and every series of movements that had you falling apart in his arms.

He loved you fully, completely, and unconditionally.

The orgasm he brought you with his mouth took you from your thoughts as you clenched your thighs around his head suddenly. "I'm cuming!" You gasped desperately just before you felt the rush of heat flood your core down through your legs. It made you bend forward over him and open your eyes, moaning loudly as you saw him looking up at you, watching you orgasm in his hands as his mouth continued to ravage your aching cunt.

"Come on, baby," he squeezed your hand, feeling you clench again against his mouth and it was too much.

"Stop, stop," you said with a shaky voice to match your quivering legs. You grabbed two fistfuls of his button up and pulled, making him get to his feet and slam his mouth against yours.

He grunted against your lips as you pushed your tongue into his mouth, greedily tasting your own wetness on him. He cursed quietly in Spanish as you pulled his shirt, untucking it from the waistband of his pants. Your hands went to his belt and you slowed down, suddenly remembering you were in the precinct.

"Do--" you swallowed hard, trying to breathe normally as you spoke against his face. "Do you have time?"

"For you? Siempre," he slid his fingers in your hair at your temple and cradled the back of your head. "Siempre, mi amor."

Always.

You blushed a little, your fingers starting to unbutton his shirt as he kissed you gently and kept hold of your hair. With each button your heart raced faster, you smiled against his lips as he slipped his tongue back inside your mouth, expertly colliding it with your own. His kisses always felt like they were going to devour you from the inside out. He kissed with such an intensity that you knew from the first time he pressed his mouth to yours all those years ago you would willingly allow him to consume you.

You clenched your thighs around his waist and let your heels drop to the floor behind him. He ran his hand down the curve of your ass and hitched your leg further up on his hip, dipping you down to lay on his desk. He grinned down at you and started to open his mouth to say something but was stopped short by a hurried knock against the glass.

"Carrillo!" Javier called from the other side of the office door.

"Go away," he returned, throwing his voice in the direction of the door, leaning down to kiss your breasts.

"Messina needs us. We got a hit off of the wire taps--it could be Escobar." There was a pause as he tried the door but it was still locked. "We gotta go!"

Carrillo's shoulders fell slightly and ran a hand over his face before helping you sit up. "Coming!" He helped you pull your dress over your breasts and started buttoning his shirt back up. "Lo siento, mi amor." He said quietly and you shook your head.

"It's okay." You bit your lip as you watched him tuck his shirt back into his pants and he hissed softly. "Sorry about that," you nodded towards the bulge against his zipper as he did his belt.

He chuckled and kissed you on the cheek, bending over to pick up your thong and held it out to you in offering. "I'm not. It'll give me something to look forward to when this search comes up empty like all of the others."

You took your underwear from him and smiled as you slipped off of his desk and put them back on. "I take it I should put the food in the fridge?"

He nodded and put his hands on his hips as he watched you fondly finish redressing. "I'll be home late."

You cupped his face giving his cheek a gentle pat and a nod. "And I'll be asleep." You smiled as best you could but you knew he could see the twinge of sadness in the corners of your mouth. The number of times he crawled into bed in the wee hours of the morning far outweighed the number of times the two of you got to go to bed at the same time.

Carrillo grabbed your hand before you could turn away and kissed your knuckles, squeezing your hand as tightly as he could without hurting you. As he walked to the door and unlocked it, he looked over his shoulder and said seriously, "I love you."

"I love you, too," you barely managed to get out before he unlocked the door and he and Javier walked briskly down the hall, leaving you to tidy up and head home.

When the knock at your front door came, you were already in bed and sound asleep. The oscillating fan of your bedroom was breathing a cool breeze across your body as you snuggled deeper into the comforter. The bed hugged you like it knew you better than anyone else in the world, and apart from your husband, it probably did. The knock came again and you groaned because it meant that you hadn't been dreaming about the first one.

You leaned up and pushed your hair to the side, looking at the side table that held your alarm clock and a lamp. "Fuck," you mumbled as bright red numbers told you it was almost three in the morning. Three AM? Where the hell was Horacio? You touched his side of the bed as if to confirm what your eyes were already telling you--he still hadn't come home.

The knock came again.

"Shit," you cursed again, turning on the lamp and opening the drawer to grab the hand gun that you knew was there.

The 9mm felt cool in the palm of your hand as you checked the magazine for ammo before slamming it into place and pulling the cartridge back to slide a single bullet down the chamber. You grabbed your robe and wrapped it around your shoulders, tying it tightly and hurrying across the bedroom barefoot. You saw the flashing red and blue lights outside the front room window as they ran along the walls of your home, chasing each other over and over, casting shadows on the entire room. The fact that there were no sirens paired with them made you feel uneasy--that was never a good sign.

The knock came again, this time it was apparent that whoever it was was pounding their fist against the wooden paneling of the door. Leaning up on your tip-toes you looked out the peephole and recognized the somber face of Javier Peña. You hurried and put the gun on the table in the mudroom before flinging open the front door and asking him accusingly.

"Javi?? Do you have any idea what time it is?" Your voice sounded foreign even to you. Your heart hammered against your ribs as your eyes frantically searched the two police cars behind him for your husband.

"(Y/n)..." Javier said quietly as he leaned against your door frame, one hand in the pocket of his leather jacket.

"What's wrong?" You said as he shifted uncomfortably on your doorstep. In the back of your mind you already knew what he was about to tell you, but you wanted him to say it. If he didn't say the words out loud then they would never become real. The news he was about to give you was a stone, and unless he threw it, it would never be allowed to shatter your entire existence.

"There's been an accident." He said flatly, forcing himself to look you in the eyes. You glanced over his shoulder and saw Steve leaning against the hood of the Jeep with his arms crossed, looking at the ground. The other officers in uniform wouldn't look at you either and you knew your next question was a foolish one.

"Is he hurt?" You asked in a meek voice. Hurt you could handle. Hurt you could work with. But you knew before you even opened the door tonight that hoping that he was only hurt was a faulicy that your brain entertained purely to keep you from fainting on the hardwood floor.

"(Y/n)," Javier tried again, moving his arms from the door frame as he started to put his hands on your shoulders.

"I need to see him," you blurted out as Javi's hands clasped your biceps. You tried to shove him off. If he touched you, it was over. If he held you it was all over. If Horacio Carrillo was alive then he would have already told you to get dressed and get in the car. No, comfort meant trying to diffuse the ticking time bomb that was a woman about to learn that she was a widow.

"I can't--" Javier tried and you jerked your arms out of his grasp.

"Take me to him, Javi. Let me see him!"

"I can't do that. There's nothing--"

"Shut up! Don't you dare--" you raised your hands and he was faster than you and grabbed both of your wrists, holding them to his chest. "Don't you fucking dare! Where is he? Where's my husband--"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he repeated as you finally gave in.

He kept his hands on your arms as your knees buckled out from under you and you slowly sank to the concrete stoop. Javi followed you down, pulling you against his leather jacket and letting you scream against his chest. You would have screamed all night if your vocal cords would have allowed it. But it wasn't long before the screaming turned to sobs and the sobbing turned to silent gasps as your body couldn't seem to figure out the appropriate noise to make to express your anguish.

You felt his voice against your hair as he spoke Spanish softly in your ear. Only catching half of it, you nodded helplessly as he told you it had been a quick death, that it was no secret around the office how deeply Horacio loved you, and other forms of condolence that didn't do a damn thing to stop the meticulous tearing of your heart within your chest.

He was gone. Not even twelve hours ago he had been in your hands, against your skin, warm and alive and looking at you with those gorgeous brown eyes. And now...nothing. You felt Javi's hand in your hair as you heard Steve's boots approaching the both of you quietly and respectfully. They were trying. They had been saddled with the task of telling you because they were friends of the Colonel. But as the tears started up again and you felt Javi's arms tighten around your shoulders, you desperately wished they belonged to someone else.

Permanent Tag List: @stevieharrrr @zeldasayer @cosmicbug379 @winters-buck @rae-gar-targaryen @gooddaykate @jigglemiwa @seawhisperer @halefirewarrior @ripleyafterdark @phoenixhalliwell @thebakerstboyskeeper @honestlystop @lackofhonor Please let me know if you want to be added to my Permanent Tag list or of I tagged you by mistake. I have done a shit job of keeping track of the Permanent list and I am trying to fix that. ❤️

#narcos #Horacio Carrillo #colonel carrillo #Carrillo x reader #narcos fic #i promise its gonna be okay #Horacio Carrillo x reader

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unsettledink · 3 years

Text

It’ll Last Longer - Fluffuary Day 4

Prompt: Pictures

Word count: 880

Summary: Peter doesn't know why people seem to think Rhodey is the responsible one.

After all, the pictures are his idea.

Peter doesn’t know why people seem to think Rhodey is the responsible one, the level headed one. It’s kind of amazing how Rhodey’s managed to fool people into thinking he’s not nearly as reckless as Tony.

After all, he sends the first picture. Just a quick, slightly blurry snap of Tony’s face, half squashed against the pillow, eyes closed.

Rhodey: Rare sighting of a genius at rest. Will update on this momentous event.

And then, a few minutes later, two more pictures, in rapid succession: the first of Tony, in the same position, eyes cracked open. The second, much blurrier, with barely half of Tony’s face in frame, obviously moving.

Rhodey: False alert. It was a ruse!

Rhodey: Mistakes were made send he

By the time Peter gets there, it’s devolved into something akin to a pillow fight and no one was sleeping.

Peter fires the next shot with a selfie of himself kissing Tony’s cheek, Tony in the middle of laughing at him and not even aware of the phone.

Peter: Talking about you

Rhodey: If he’s laughing about it nothing he’s saying is true.

Peter: You know he said the same thing to me about you

Rhodey: Yeah well who’s the msot honest one here?

Peter: …

Peter: Uh, me

Rhodey: ...fuck

And it’s Rhodey who ups the stakes. Rhodey who sends a picture of Tony curled up in bed on his side, maybe asleep (probably not) and completely naked. Guh.

Rhodey: I took your advice

Peter: Uh what advice was that

Peter: You know when they say send nudes it generally means of yourself

Peter: Not that I’m complaining

Rhodey: What you said about finding more creative ways to wear him out

Rhodey: Yeah I bet you’re not complaining

Peter: I totally don’t remember saying that but sure

Peter: Do I even want to know?

The answer he gets isn’t in words. It’s another picture of Tony, flopped over onto his stomach. Low angled, the full length of his body, from the come on his ass to the smirk on his face where he’s looking over his shoulder.

Peter: Holy shit

Peter: I give good advice

He can’t let Rhodey win, of course.

The pictures fly between them fast and furious. Tony seems mostly amused by it all. He’s perfectly willing to play along with them both for maximum effect, probably because he seems like how they’re showing him off. And likes the end results.

Peter thinks his favorite entry is the one of Tony lying on the bed, clearly post sex; flushed, hickeys on his neck and come on his chin, lips swollen red and grinning, eyes crinkled at the corners. It also just happens to catch Rhodey right as he’s sitting down for some very important meeting.

Whoops.

Rhodey gets him back, sending a picture the minute he knows Peter’s going to be leaving the lecture hall. Nearly makes him drop his phone and wow, it would have been awkward if someone picked it up with that still onscreen. That being a picture of Tony’s torso, of his dick hard and dark and a gold ring around the base.

Rhodey: can’t stick around late enough to say bye, but i left you a present

Rhodey: don’t take too long. He’s trying to be good but it’s already been a while

Peter: i will be there in SECONDS

Peter: don’t tell him. that doesn’t mean he’ll get to come any time soon

Rhodey: keep him distracted for me

Peter tries. Rhodey’s gone for a week that time, and Peter doesn’t give him a chance to forget about them for a second. Tony gets in on it even; snags Peter’s phone at one point and sends Rhodey a selfie while Peter’s fucking him, curled behind Tony with a hand in his hair, yanking his head back so Tony’s staring that the camera through almost closed eyes, Peter’s face buried in the crook of his neck.

Rhodey: that’s the happiest I’ve seen him when I have to be gone like this

Rhodey: you’re good for us, Pete

Peter’s still not completely sure how to respond to things like that, things that make it seem like this could be about a lot more than sex. That maybe they might want to keep him around for a while.

It’s not that he doesn’t believe it— he just doesn’t know why. The two of them work together so well already. Why add him in for real?

He’s not going to ask.

The last day Rhodey’s gone, when he should already be on his way back, Peter sends a pic: Tony’s ass—his perfect, hot, oh so grabbable ass—with Peter’s hand holding him open for the best possible view of his dick deep inside it.

Peter: I’m keeping him ready

Peter: hurry home

Peter: we miss you

Rhodey: Fuck

Rhodey: Tell Tony he needs to to make my suit faster

He knows Tony will leap at the opportunity, will somehow find a way even though he’s already upgraded both their suits beyond reason. Peter’ll tell him.

Later, though. Because right now, Tony’s already too cock drunk to answer anything, and it’s going to be a while before his brain is working again.

Good thing Tony’s got them to take care of him.

AO3

#fluffuary #rhodey x tony x peter #starker #rhodeytony #ironspiderhusbands #(is there a ship name for that???)#my work #fanfiction

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sjw-publishings · 4 years

Text

Wassup Beach!

“Wassup, FAGS!”

Alex and Liam uncomfortably gazed away from the homophobic asian, who taunted them sarcastically like one of those bullies from college...than again, Cohen Wang was one of those bullies.

The 5 year boyfriends were looking for their friend Caleb...or at least they think that was his name, but it didn’t matter anyway, especially if the surfer jock was around.

“This is a QUEER-FREE BEACH, Beeeetches, get the Fag out!”

Even without insults from the douchebag, the two of them planned on carrying their stuff and heading a less crowded around, with clearer sand, a better view of the ocean, and no homophobia.

After all, there were Two lesbians embracing each other lovingly by the ocean. This was a safe space.

“No worries babe...I got popsicles!”

Alex smiled, glad Liam isn’t taking those insults too seriously, knowing how his boyfriend would usually be fighting back.

Setting up the umbrella, mat, and cooler box. Liam surprisingly did most of the work and pretty quickly, maybe he didn’t want to ruin their 1 year anniversary of when they started going out.

“Red bean and green tea?”

“They’re pretty good. Got the last two before they sold out.”

Liam sat on the matt, taking up most of the space on the mat as he munched on the red bean. Alex smiled, his boyfriend was so cute, even if he was acting more dominant. He proceed to pop the green tea one in his mouth...and wow...so good.

“Mmm, this green tea is good ...Liam?”

“Pretty cool...so good...”

Liarom immediately fished out for another red bean, his boyfriend of one month always seemed to be a huge Asia fan.

Though he won’t deny the....the speed at which Liarom was eating seemed to be quite excessive-

“What the fa-?”

RRIIIIIIIP!

Shredding the Hawaiian shirt, the man exposed his bare chest on display as he ate.

Large grabbable pectorals shining on display with a handsome coating of hair which made him all the more handsome.

But wasn’t his boyfriend body shy? No...that’s not right. The pan-asian man always loved displaying his body openly to the public. Wearing revealing clothing to accentuate his giant back muscles, his muscular arms which always seemed to be in the mood for a flex, his wonder abdominals which hid a six pack underneath, ready to pop out in a matter of days.

But...he was his right? As he glanced at those toned feet wiggling in their asian tanned splendour, thick sausage trunks which are begging to be massages. Especially up his thighs, to the large snake poking out his red beach trunks....weren’t they rainbow...? But that’s not right.

After all...his boy...friend always aimed to be manly...wait no-

“Li...Lierom!”

“Chill Fag~”

His friend always seemed to be quite the homophobe, ignoring what he says and always aiming to be chill and not caring about anything else.

It wasn’t before long that the necklace of...some gay couple, twisted into a simple silver chain of the bisexual jock’s chest. Though its questionable if the man was bisexual even...as he more than often teamed up with jock bullies to torment-

“FAG! Ooooooooof~”

Jerking from behind, like a huge stick pulled up from his arse, shrinking to an unpiercable bubble butt. Grabbing a hold of his manhood within those shorts, the man started panting, deep masculine groans emerged as a prominent apple stuck on his throat. Tossing the last of the red bean popsicles into the cooler box, the man grunted, begging for release.

It was...so hot. As Alex kneaded below, watching as his asian bully grunted in front of him. The hot tanned complexion bathing his skin, as those long hair chops sliced off and got carried away to the wind.

Sides buzzed off to the back as a stylish gelled top rested on the man, grinning like a doofus as a well groomed goatee donned his chin. A tasty moustache rested above his upper lip, and pearly whites shone from within him.

He closed his eyes, beaming his goofiest smile as the handsome surfer jock just went-

“OH!”

Splurt

“OHHHHHHH!”

As his body rested completely flat on the sand, completely entranced by the sound of the waves and-

“What a stud~”

“Tee hee~”

The asian hunk got up in an instant, ditching the strange stalker...whoever he was, behind him. Because all he cared about now was-

“Wassup Beeeaaaches~ the LEROY’S IN DA HOUSE!”

Leroy Wen swaggered to the ladies hanging over at the ocean, who instinctively swung his muscular arms over both of them like an Alpha, as the asian beach babes clutched onto him like the hunk he was.

The three of them fading of into the distance, like strangers as the confused gay SNAPPED out of his trance. His legs man-spreading on the beach mat, left hand digging into his trunks, the other fishing out for...for-

“Da Faaaaaack man?”

Alex slurred, almost uncharacteristically but he was kinda drunk wasn’t he? At least he recalled. Noting a couple of used beer cans, and popsicle sticks? Oh right...that green tea was great.

BUT WHY WAS IT ALL OUT?

Getting up, the man drunkly walked on the sand, still in a daze. But he had to get more...it was his vacation, right? His SOLO time.

Though he felt that everyday was his vacation.

“Huhuh... cool.”

Walking down the clear sands, making his way to the rough jagged Beach with crowds of people. Normally the caucasian would stay away from caution, but he felt pretty chill...

Walking with a swagger, making big steps as his footprints got larger, and larger as he made the transition. His legs certainly stretched like taffy, before solidifying with tough muscle. Swift moves, like surfin’.

“Surfin’~”

He slurred, lugging his thick calves towards the wavy rough ocean, size 12s sinking into the sand-but his height remained unchanged. Tall at a 6ft 3, like the chill dude he was-

“CHILL OUT FAG!”

SPLASH!

A huge tidal wave came crashing down on him, yet he still had a dopey grin...

The water engulfed his shirt away, dissolving until he was shirtless. It too had bathed the previous colours away, from those shorts, BEACH shorts they were, stretching with navy blue elasticity, with white rings at the edges and waist. A string tied itself from the front, which got pushed out further due to his thick manhood.

His buttocks clenched, preventing any water from entering in...but that’s not just it. He was gay, but he was not into that kind of intimacy...felt that it was a little too QUEER for him, he had a firm butt too...wouldn’t want to get spanked by a sissy.

Speaking of ‘sissy’, that sarcastic voice...and the word Fag really got to him. He was a Fag, but that didn’t give anybody the right to call him fag...but then they were right that he was a Fag?

Confused by the train of thought, he simply blurted-

“Shaddup Fag!”

This got the attention of a familiar looking douche, Cohen. Who pushed down his specs, got down his surfboard, and had a staring contest with the slightly taller male.

“No you shaddup Fag!”

Mimicking the man’s voice, it was simple, and confused the heck out of the surfer jock.

“YOU SHADDUP!”

He smirked, watching his dumbass rival trying to outsmart his dumbass and LOSIN’. After a moment of a heated glare-

“HAHAHA!”

Antolex laughed stupidly with his surfer bud, and frat roomie as the two grinned dumbly at the other. It always was fun questioning the other’s masculinity...cause it just made themselves-

“YOU GAY?”

MANLIER!

Stretching his wide traps, he arm hugged his bro. Hs lean but strong arms were a marvel to the ladies on the beach, alongside those wide traps exposed to the ocean.

“NO YOU GAY!”

Of course, the insult now stung harder than before, considering he WASN’T GAY. Duh, just look at his tanned bod, the effort he made to tone out his chest and pecs just so he can impress the ladies! Wasn’t as defined as his bro, but wasn’t bad since he mostly just started going serious last month, and used to always just party and get wasted in the frat house.

“YOU DA FAG!”

He grinned dumbly, his voice rumbling in a dark baritone drunken stupor.

Course he wasn’t the brightest tool in the shed, but he knew how to insult like his Frat Bro. Especially at the queers that gawk at him, this Asian Surfer was for DA LADIES ONLY!

“OH YEAH WELL-Bro...Bro!”

“What Bro?”

“Ladies...2 o clock!”

The men almost turned upon radar, spotting a couple of asian chicks who giggled and blushed at the men. Their gorgeous super model bods revealed...was just too much for this drunk dude.

“So...hot!”

Almost like time froze, as the man palmed himself without restraint. Kneading his hard member as he grinned his dumbest grin. A lust dusting of stubble over and under his lips, as a handsome gust of wind shaped his hair to a stylish short cut like his Bro.

His legs swaggered to the middle of the Beach, almost like a spotlight reserved for him. Except it was bright daylight, as his facial features had that dull but attractive charisma. Kneading himself as he grinned his widest grin.

Anthony Chang was ready to party.

PSSSH!

“WASSUP BEACH!”

#gay to straight #g2s #mental change #jock #asian #racial change #dumber #gay #lib to cons #to #surfer #straight #personality change #wassup #beach

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