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#what are the odds of him having clothes that fit them
thevoidstaredback · 2 days
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Danny couldn't tell you what he expected, but it most definitely wasn't this.
Time and Space were weird in the Infinite Realms, both bending to the will of their masters and no one all at once. They didn't follow a line or a path. Time and Space did as they wanted. Fitting, considering who their masters are.
The first time Danny was ten years old, his Grandfather killed him. He remembers that, in an effort to save him, his mother submerged his body in the Lazarus Pits he and his brother had been warned about ever going near.
As it was explained to him, the Infinite Realms has a base level of sentience at the very least. She allows herself to peak into the worlds She cradles to keep an eye on them. She found Danny when his mother had lowered him into the water and She claimed him as Her own. She bent Time to Her will, making Danny a toddler again, before bending Space to drop him in the world that would most allow him to grow. She promised that She would come back for him when the time was right.
The first time Danny was fourteen, after the second time he had been ten, he died. The parents he had learned to accept as his own tried to open an unnatural gateway into the Infinite Realms. He was the one to turn it on. The electricity of the mortal world killed him, but the energy from the Infinite Realms revived him.
He remembers the whispers barely heard under his own screams. Whispers and imprints of "I'm sorry" and "I do not mean to hurt you" and "You will only grow stronger" and "Welcome back, my champion".
Danny can count on one hand the number of times he's felt safe between the first time he was six and the first time his was fourteen. He can tell you the names of exactly two places he has never felt the need to hide from.
The day Danny turned fifteen for the first time, he told his parents what happened to him. He knew, instinctually, that they would not understand, that they are researchers before they are parents. But he held onto the hope that had been trained out of him when he was first four years old. He had hoped that they would go against all odds and accept and help him.
He shut down the portal the very next day. He destroyed it and all of his parents' lives work. He would not stand by and let them hurt his people when he could not be there to interfere. He escaped back into the embrace of the Infinite Realms through Vlad's portal, giving him the Order to destroy it. The only way for the citizens of the Realms to enter the mortal worlds was to use natural portals, as unstable and unpredictable as they are. He would not risk them again.
He finds himself wandering listlessly, letting the Realms take him where She wants him to go. Sometimes She takes him to places that are completely empty, places where he can mourn what he lost without anyone finding him. Sometimes She takes him to his mentors and friends. Sometimes She takes him where he needs to be.
Danny finds the boy just as the natural portal closes behind him, the sickly green and black oozing like a festering wound.
The boy looks similar to Danny. His hair is spiked, his clothing dulled shades of a hero's costume under a black cloak, a mask covering his eyes, his body being more filled out to match his age. But Danny, on every level of understanding that he is and ever will be capable of, knows that this is his brother.
"Damian?" he whispers. The Realms push him forward. "Damian!"
Danny cradles the body of his brother, slowly sinking to the ground the Realms produce for him to land on. He carefully peels the mask from his face and lays it beside the katana on the ground.
As expected of anyone who finds their way into the Infinite Realms without proper protections, Damian has no pulse. He is not breathing. He is cold. The wound under his sternum is not bleeding.
Danny brushed his thumbs under Damian's eyes, his hands on his cheeks. "What did they do to you, ahki?"
Despite having no mortal ability to do so, Damian's eyes opened. He started ahead, blinking when his green eyes met Danny's. "Danyal?"
Tears fell from his eyes as he nodded. "Hi, Damian. You're here early."
Tears fell from Damian's eyes as well. He knew where he was. There was only one explanation. He couldn't feel himself breathing, nor could he hear his heart beat or his blood flow. There was no pain from where his mother had run him through.
"She killed me!" Damian cried into his brother's shoulder.
Danny held him tighter. "I'm so sorry," No one should ever have to go like that.
"Father couldn't save me."
"It's okay."
"Dick and Tim and Jason and Cass-!"
"Shh, ahki. You will see them again. I'll make sure of it."
The brothers held each other as they cried. The Realms wrapped Herself around the boys, comforting them as she could. Her champion and his brother, both children She had claimed and would protect.
Part 1 Storyboard
@anarinette
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idle-compy · 10 months
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i wish the kids would've gotten new outfits for at least one of the seasons
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akkivee · 1 year
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i feel very seen as someone who draws buff kuukou lmao
#this is vee speaking#the arb chronicles#i also feel very insane looking at this but that’s just the usual vee perogative at play lol#kuukou seems to get put into loose fit clothing but one day the official artists will wake up and draw the snatched waist i know he has LOL#it’s actually funny i’ve been wanting to compare waistlines between bat because it genuinely looks like kuukou’s bigger than hitoya lmao#whereas what i visualise while drawing them is that hitoya is bigger on principle of being both a bigger man and a stocky body type#and kuukou has an hourglass figure lmao#jyushi’s upside down triangle to me lol and once his body starts developing muscle it’ll be more apparent and less twig lol#but anyway lol the chuuoku women have rightfully claimed my brain but i really like the event!!!!!!!! kuukou’s outfit notwithstanding lol#like kuukou invited himself to stay at the dohifu abode for a month lmao!!!!!! hifumi taught kuukou how to pose and walk the catwalk!!!!!!!#in an odd tabled the turns hifumi was the one apologising for someone else’s behaviour lmao!!!!!!!#i finally got the saburo kuukou interaction of my dreams!!!!! saburo the prickly kid and kuukou the one who ignores that shit lol!!!!#the way kuukou could tell saburo has performance anxiety issues and talked him thru it#while also addressing saburo hiding himself behind ichiro’s name and telling him to be proud of who saburo is I AM— I CANNOT— HELP ME—#saburo: i literally don’t want to hear something like that from you!!!!!! 🤢#kuukou: lol a prickly bastard til the end huh? well i don’t hate that kinda stubbornness 😈#saburo is now bad ass temple’s baby brother i’m sorry i don’t make the rules#AND LOL after some terrorists crashed the show and ran off before anyone could fight anybody since they got scared seeing bat bb mtr#kuukou invited everyone to a meal at a temple on hitoya’s dime LMAO#hitoya: WHAT??? jakurai: thank you for treating us hitoya 🤗 hitoya: NO YOURE HELPING ME PAY 💢#c: kuukou👑
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h0ttestgrlinm0urgu3 · 4 months
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𝔭𝔯𝔢𝔱𝔱𝔶 𝔭𝔦𝔫𝔨 𝔟𝔬𝔴
𝖍𝖊𝖓𝖗𝖞 𝖈𝖆𝖛𝖎𝖑𝖑 𝖝 𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗
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summary [henry let's you play with bows and you get carried away]
warnings [smut, mouth stuff🎀, bimbo~ish ig, no p in v, pet names, soft dom henry🎀]
being the type of girl you were you loved ribbons and bows. they weren't something you indulged in often as a child, growing up in the country and all, but once you got older you feel in love with them.
you'd put them everywhere, in your hair, on your clothes, there's even some on your walls and others tied around stuffed bears.
Henry had recently gotten you these really cute ribbon bow clips and you were currently sitting beside him putting them in his hair. he's not really paying attention to you, he's used to this kind of treatment and just sat scrolling on his phone. you dropped one of the clips from his hair and in to his lap. as you go to reach for it a thought flashes in your mind. 'can I put a bow on your dick?' you ask your boyfriend after retrieving the clip.
you see the way henry freezes and hurriedly say 'not these, like ribbon' you clear up. he lets out a breath and laugh before looking at you 'I was scared for a sec baby' he says tucking a peice of hair behind your ear making you smile. he returns your smile and leans in for a kiss. 'of course I'll let my pretty girl dress me up' henry says sitting back up with the clips still in his hair.
so excited you jump up and let out a squeal 'omg yay' you scream about to go into you and Henry's shared room for some ribbon. turning to him before you go saying 'don't get hard' which earns you an eye roll as you leave 'you wanna do it or not' he mumbles as your walking but you hear.
in the room your trying to figure out what color ribbon you wanted. you got it down to pink and purple, so you bring them out to henry. 'which one do you want?' you question, you sit beside him on the couch, getting comfortable with your upper half mostly on his lap. 'whatever matches my hair' he says as he scrolls through something.
you go with the pink since he had pink in his hair. unzipping his jeans and pulling his cock out your really happy to see the he wasn't hard. it might sound odd but you liked playing with his soft cock. cutting the ribbon to length before throwing everything on to the floor. you start to tie the ribbon at the base of his dick, humming to yourself as henry continued on his phone, you could care less.
looking down at the pretty pink bow you made your so proud in your self. you let out a giggle in excitement and notice the way Henry's cock twitched when you laughed. your mouth begin to water. trying something else you lightly blow making it twitch again.
you mouth became the ocean and you desperatly needed to taste him. opening your mouth and letting droll drip onto the head of his cock before lowering your head and licking it up. 'ohh fuck baby' henry moans out at the unexpected pleasure, finally placing his attention on you.
you take the tip of this cock in your mouth savering the taste of him. opening your mouth wider you take his full soft length in. feeling the bow brush against your lips. feeling him swell you come up for air letting out a little whine at the fact that this is the first time he's ever fully fit in your mouth, and it's because hes never let you suck it soft. and it's not gonna last much longer, but you'll enjoy having him in your mouth either way.
looking up to meet his gaze he grips your jaw and squeezes your cheecks together. sticking out your tounge he roughly brings you up for a sloppy kiss, gripping the back of your scalp. he breaks the kiss to leave kisses all over your face before letting you go back down to his cock, which is now fully hard.
bow intact.
you lick from the base to the tip repetadly. bringing your focus more to the head of his cock you bring one hand to the base and the other to his balls. 'fuck baby you know daddy likes that' he moans out as his hips buck forcing the tip of his cock all the way into your mouth. you gag a little before you adjust to it returning to your pace.
henry looks down to the ungodly display infornt of him. you desperatly sucking his cock, pretty hands playing with his balls with a pretty pink ribbon rapped around his cock, your eyes are watery, the floor beneath you full of droll and pre cum. your looking up to him eyes glossed over moaning every so often telling him just how much you love his cock.
'ahh- fuckk, baby im gonna cum' he moaned out. forcing the rest of his cock into your moth and down your throat henry couldn't hold back any longer. his cum being forced down your throat and falling from the sides of your mouth around his cock getting your bow all dirty. removing him from your mouth with a giggle and a smile so happy that you grew into loving bows.
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[a/n: this randomly came to me and I wrote it right away so if it's bad blame it on that. 🎀]
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whiskygoldwings · 3 months
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The Tattooist
The first clone trooper client she tattoos is an act of remembrance.
The man stands forlorn and desperate in the reception area, his borrowed clothes fitting poorly on his slumped frame. His face is tight, like a man on the edge of screaming, holding it back by the skin of his teeth. She recognises this pain, and quickly ushers him into her workroom, calling for A'maa to take the front desk while she speaks to a client. He breaths slightly easier once they are no longer in public, and she gestures for him to sit on the well-worn sofa she reserves for guests.
“I haven't got many credits,” he admits straight up. “They don't exactly pay us. I just wanted to see what could be done for what I have.”
She nods and grabs a pad and stylus, settling herself into her armchair and crossing her legs. “Tell me what you want and how much you've got and I'll see what I can do.”
He swallows painfully, and reaches into his pocket. “I have exactly 134 credits,” he holds a handful of ingots, and she glances down before looking back at his face. “I looked you up; I know it's not much in terms of tattoos. It's just... It's all I could scrape together...” he stumbles over his words, embarassment curling his lips.
“And what you want?” She interrupts, halting his ashamed attempts at explaining himself.
He takes a deep breath, grimaces, then sighs. “My brother was killed in the last battle. His name was Star. The long-necks... The Kaminoans I mean, never let us mourn each other where they could see. But he's my brother. We were born of the same batch, he helped me when I struggled with the maths tests, we had each others backs... I have a million odd brothers, but he was mine...” He presses his thumb and forefinger into his tightly-shut eyes, choking back a sob. “I want to honour him forever. I want to carry him with me, in a way they can't take away from me.” At this he straightens, bringing his hand down to stare at her determinedly. “They can make us wash our armour off, take our possessions from us. They will have to flay my skin from me if they want to take this.”
She stares back, stylus against her lips, and feels a swell of righteous fury in her throat. She's always had a mild force-sensitivity. Not enough to make training her of any worth, but enough that she can get a feel of a person, enough she can get a taste of their emotions.
This is a proud, strong man. And he is not broken by the hardships he faces, as much as he should be.
She will honour his brother with him.
The design practically leaps from her stylus, as she coaxes little stories from him. Little tales of his brother. His name was Star, he tells her first, and she sketches the rough outlines of one. He named himself, the man tells her, not giving his own name. Named himself after the balls of fury in the universe that were always out of their reach of Kamino. He laughs quietly, painfully, as he tells her the first time they had snuck out on a rainless night, when there was a brief respite in the clouds of Kamino, and by chance, there was a meteor shower over head. They'd all been amazed, confused and delighted by the sight, their little squad of five. One of the trainers, a kind man named Kal, had chuckled and told them “That'll be a shooting star” when they ask him about the phenomena, and Star had whispered to him in their bunks that night that he had decided on his name.
“I used to call him a shooting Star when we were in sims,” the man admits, a crooked grin on his face. “He kicked me in the shin for it once. Think he actually kinda liked it though.”
She adds a trail of dust behind it.
“He was so proud of being an ARF,” the man whispers. “So proud when I was nominated for ARF training alone with him. I was never as good as him, but he always took me with him, wherever he went. When the Commander told us we were getting the training, he basically hugged him. The Commander just gave him a pat on the back and told him never to do it again or he'd demote him quick as sithspit” the man snorts. “He didn't mean it, but Star'd never moved so bloody quick back into a salute, I couldn't help laughing at him, the idiot.”
She tabs out and finds a reference for an ARF troopers helmet on the 'net, and draws the trail of star dust bursting out of it and curling round to meet with the star itself.
“Our battallion wears green. Mainly olive-green. The commander started it, reminds him of the General I suspect. We became Green Company.”
The dust trail gathers sprinkles of olive green, the Star limned in the colour. She hesitates for a moment, then asks. “What markings did he wear?”
The man startles; she'd been loath to bring him out of his memories, but she wants to make it accurate. Needs to make it accurate really. She can feel how important this piece is to the man, and she finds herself strongly opposed to disappointing him.
“He had two stars on the left hand side of his helmet, one within the other.” The man indicates a point on his crown, above his ear. “And his visor was lined in green. He had a stripe vertically down the right hand side, ending just under the visor itself. On his chest piece...”
She lets him continue detailing his armour, drawing another star in olive green within the big one, then delicately tipping the helmet to conceal where the star would have been on the left. She's good, but it would have been too small to depict without potentially bleeding into a solid line, and she doesn't want that to happen. Instead, she marks in the line on the right-hand side, and ensures the big star is representative of what she imagines was on the helmet.
He's trailed off, staring sightlessly at his hands in his lap. She doesn't want to shake him, suspects alarming a trained soldier out of his own mind would be a bad idea. Instead, she uncrosses her legs, and clears her throat lightly. He glances up at her, and she smiles and extends the pad to him.
“Is something like this what you had in mind?”
He blinks at her, than reaches over and takes the pad. She sees the moment when he takes in the image. His eyes widen, and a tear he's been holding back since well before he got here slides down his cheek. He presses his fist into his mouth, other hand shaking where it holds the pad and he nods, clenching his eyes shut. “y-yes... Oh yes...” He stammers, voice thick.
“Where would you like it?”
“Over my heart,” he whispers. “I will carry him always in my heart.”
She stands abruptly, making him jump slightly and reaches out for the pad. “Okay, shirt off and lie down on the bed for me please. I assume as a clone trooper you're routinely screened for any blood diseases?” He nods, standing up with a slightly dazed expression on his face. She nods back and turns away, beginning the ritual of preparing her inks. She's playing a game of avoidance now, knows she won't take this man's money, and if she can keep him from asking about it she may be able to get it finished before he finds out. She suspects he'd do the honourable thing and refuse to get the tattoo. It'll be harder for him to do if it's halfway done. And while normally she'd insist on a full disclosure form and signature, she gets the feeling having no hardcopy evidence of what is about to happen will be a very good idea. The pad will need reformatting after she's done, but she's been required to do that for other clients who want their body art to be completely untraceable, so she doesn't store anything of any import on it for long anyway. She hears the rustle of cloth behind her and smiles slightly to herself, pleased at a plan going well. “Would you tell me more about him please?”
The man takes a deep breath behind her, even as she hears the bed creak as he clambers onto it. “He was always good at slipping by unnoticed. It's how he kept us both out of trouble back in training...”
She finishes mixing up the colours she needs as he begins to tell her about their childhood, what little of it there was. Checks her machine and cleans the patch of skin above his heart as he laughs about a prank played on one of their batchmates. It warms her and chills her at the same time, realising how little they had, but what great things they made of what they did. She prints out the stencil and places it over his chest as he whispers about Star easing him through the tail end of a nightmare, checking quietly that he's happy with the position before pressing the needle to his skin. He breaths in through his nose once when she starts, and she glances up at him, but he smiles and continues on into a story about when they first met their Jedi, and how Star gushed about her afterwards. She sinks into the meditative process of stamping lines into being, bringing colour to life, all the while surrounded by the man's soft voice building a memorial to his brother in their room.
When it's finished, the man looks surprised. “I thought it would take longer than that?” He blinks at her, “And be more painful in all honesty.”
She grins, “You did your research well hon, I'm good at what I do.”
He laughs and sits up, wincing slightly as the skin stretches around the wound. She squirts cleaner onto a cloth and holds it towards his chest, pausing before touching the tattoo for him to give a nod of permission, then wipes carefully across it, removing excess ink and stencil gently. Looking it over critically, she's happy with what she's done, knows she's poured herself into this tattoo as well. The lines are clean and crisp, the colours deep and rich. The helmet tilts up to look at the star above it, the trail of stardust sweeping behind it and curling up to emerge from the opening of the helmet at the bottom. Olive green accents in the tail, the line over the right-hand side of the helmet and around the visor, and the outer and inner two stars. She nods to herself, and grins up at him. “Ready to see it?”
He swallows nervously, but nods. She feels her grin quirk into a proper smile, then holds out her hand to him. He looks at it for a second, then places his own in hers, and she helps pull him from the bed. She keeps hold of his hand as she guides him to the full length mirror just beside the couch, and gently pulls him to stand infront of it. The hand in hers trembles as he stares at his reflection, taking a moment on his own face to gather his courage, then looks down at his chest.
The noise that punches out of his lungs is almost animal, and she grips his hand tightly. He cries openly, other hand reaching up to hover just under the tattoo as he looks down at his own chest. It's several moments before he can say anything, and she stands next to him the whole time, holding his hand as he clenches onto hers. He cries and cries, grief finally allowed expression, as she gives him silent comfort in proximity. His first words are “thank you”, and she smiles at him, as he starts to collect himself and turns away from her to try and pull himself back together.
“I'll give you a few minutes to check it over and make sure you're happy before I bandage it up,” she murmers, and steps quietly out of the room, giving him privacy in his sorrow.
A'maa glances up at her as she steps out, raising an eyebrow. Strictly speaking, she wasn't supposed to be working today, and she hadn't considered that A'maa might have had to turn away one of her own clients when she committed to tattooing the man. But A'maa glances over at the door to her workroom and shakes her head. “Don't worry about it Elaah,” she whispers, “Whatever it was, it was clearly important.”
“Yes,” Elaah whispers back, walking over to cradle herself in A'maa's outstretched arm, seeking the comfort of her own found family. “Yes, it really was.”
It's a few more minutes before the man opens the door, glancing around the edge of it. She quickly cuts off her conversation with A'maa and smiles at him. “Ready to get bandaged up?”
He nods and smiles, face a little blotchy from the tears, though neither she nor A'maa say anything. She gives A'maa's shoulder a quick squeeze, then heads into the room, leaving the door ajar this time. The man stands infront of the mirror again, gazing down at his new ink, and she quickly grabs the bits she needs to finish off. He smiles at her as holds the fake skin bandage up to his chest, carefully sizing it up to fit nicely over the tattoo.
“How much do I owe you?” he asks, and she shakes her head.
“Nothing hon, you paid me in stories.”
He protests immediately, as she suspected he would. “Too late hon!” she grins at him. “It's already on your skin and I'll throw your credits out onto the street after you if you try leaving them behind. Good luck winning this one!” She winks and pats him on the shoulder, turning away to grab his top and thrusting it into his abdomen. He grabs it and gapes at her, clearly not quite sure what to say, before straightening and flashing a sheepish grin at her.
“You planned this from the start didn't you?” He asks, pulling the top over his head and rolling his eyes as she throws him a cheeky wink and nods.
“I've got to give you something, this means so much to me... You have no idea...” He gulps and shakes his head, blinking fresh tears out of his eyes. “Tell you what, I'll make sure anyone else who might be thinking of getting some ink heads this way?”
She shrugs. “I'm not going to turn down customers, but you don't owe me anything. I just hope you think of Star whenever you see it.”
“I will,” he murmurs, a hand going to rest over where the tattoo sits over his heart. He glances up at her. “My name is Trix. I just... wanted you to know that.”
She smiles at him, and gently rests a hand over his own. “Thank you Trix.” she says, smiling up at him, “Thank you for everything you and your brothers do for us.”
He grasps her hand with his other one and squeezes it tightly for a moment, before turning around and walking out the shop.
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luvingspence · 1 year
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𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙥𝙞𝙘𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙚 𝙞𝙣 𝙖 𝙜𝙤𝙡𝙙𝙚𝙣 𝙡𝙤𝙘𝙠𝙚𝙩
early seasons!spencer reid x fem!reader
spencer gets emotional once he realises how much his girlfriend loves him <3
also spot the taylor swift and twilight reference girlies! and apologies for how cheesy this is, it’s very rushed bc exams so it isn’t proofread :(
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*    *:・゚✧*:・゚✧
His apartment felt different now that she was here. There was more colour, her pink slippers were next to his, she now kept tulips in a lovely patterned vase in the kitchen, and there was now a thrifted clothing rack in the corner of their shared bedroom for the clothes that refused to fit in the large oak wardrobe.
The atmosphere felt altered too. The candles she burned smelled warm, he now couldn’t wait to come home, compared to how he used to feel. Knowing he would be coming home to an apartment that wasn’t empty and lonely filled him with a feeling that was almost indescribable. It was like having butterflies in his stomach, but all so much more than that. Something in his chest blossomed and happiness spread to every corner of his body when he saw her perched on the sofa with her fingers skimming the pages of one of his books, or when he saw her in one of his sweaters with the most adorable frilly apron around her waist when baking in the kitchen.
Though, today was an unusual day off. By some miracle, Hotch had managed to convince Strauss to get another team on-call for the coming week. After three back-to-back cases, all lasting a week long, Aaron knew his team needed to sleep in their own beds.
So there he was, in thick, odd socks many sizes too big for him, a green cable knit sweater, and grey plaid-pyjama trousers on his sofa watching re-runs and more re-runs, waiting for his girlfriend to come home. It felt strange to be the one at home for once, but it was pleasant.
“Spence, honey.” Manicured fingers carded through his long-ish hair, he jumped. She giggled.
“Sorry, you looked like you were about to doze off there,” She circled around from the back of the sofa and sat next to him, thighs touching and arms now tangled together, “guess you didn’t hear me come in, huh?”
“Guess not.” He bashfully winced, embarrassed by his skittishness.
“How was your day off then, genius?” Whilst inquiring about his day she pulled a blanket that Penelope had bought Spencer off from the back of the sofa and wrapped it around them.
“Good, it was good.” He leaned his head on her shoulder and cuddled closer. “It was going to read today but I just watched Doctor Who re-runs, I don’t get to do that often.”
“Sounds good, honey.” Y/n smiled softly and kissed his forehead, “you of all people need a lazy day every now and then.”
Spencer silently nodded and slide further down the sofa so he could rest his sofa against her chest. He felt something cold and metallic against his chest. A curious hum escaped his lips. “What’s wrong, honey?”
He sat up straight, now looking down at his sweet girlfriend. He brought his hand to her chest and fingered at the new metal handing from her neck.
It was a cute little golden locket. It looked to be vintage. It was oval in shape and had floral patterns and vines creating a lovely botanic boarder around the locket.
“This new?” He mumbled, still twirling the locket between nimble fingers.
“Oh this?” Y/n softly smiled down and wrapped a gentle hand around Spencer’s wrist while he played with the chain, “Yeah, it’s new. I saw it in a little vintage shop when I was out with Penny last week. It’s cute, right?”
“Yeah, sweetheart,” It did look adorable. It fell neatly just below her collarbones. It was a very her necklace. He imagined it would look well with all of her clothes, especially the sundresses and lacy tanks she loved so much. “It’s very pretty. You look very pretty.”
“You’re the sweetest, Spence.” She grinned widely. She ducked her head and laid chaste pecks along his neck before resuming their cuddling. “I love you.”
“I love you too.” He pulled her close and ran his fingers down the side of her arm, his fingers touched her so gently it felt like he was barely there. It was a sweet, rare moment of uninterrupted peace for the couple.
Spencer though, his brain was still whirring. Why hadn’t he noticed the locket this past week? It was more than unusual for him to not notice something new about Y/n. Maybe he should ask.
“Have you been wearing this all week?” She shook her head.
“No, it’s a locket! I didn’t want to wear it empty.” She giggled, she removed her head from it’s place on her boyfriends shoulder and fiddled with the locket’s opening.
“Did you put a picture of Taylor Swift or that other singer you like in there?” He chuckled.
“Lana Del Rey?” She corrected, “and honestly, I thought about it, but no.” She glanced up at him and smiled, he noticed a flustered expression on her face.
Once she got the locket open, he saw it. In a heart shapes frame inside the pretty locket, was an even prettier picture of the two of them. How she managed to get a photo small enough of the two of them to fit inside the locket, he was clueless.
“It’s us?” His voice became quiet, his pink lips formed a small pout.
The picture was simple, they had been out with friends in the summer. He was casual attire, which was a very rare occurrence, ordinary black trousers and a beige cable-knit sweater with his usual converse. Y/n was a sight to behold, however. Perched on his lap comfortably in adorable sandal-wedges and a sweet white sundress, she was planting a loving kiss on Spencer’s cheek while he grinned at the camera.
“Of course it’s us,” She looked down as if she had a reason to be embarrassed, “I know it’s cheesy but, I just… I don’t know. I love you. Like, a lot.”
He was for once, speechless.
He suddenly felt like the young, timid, and perpetually awkward twelve year old version of himself with too-long hair and glasses a little too big for the bridge of his nose. Never, and he could not stress the never enough, had he thought that would find someone who cared and loved for him in such a pure, wholesome, unabashed way.
“I love you.” He quickly said. He had never been more sure of anything.
She cooed, obviously enamoured with the man before her. “I know you do, Spence.”
“No, I mean,” He took a shaky breath, “I am unconditionally and irrevocably in love with you. Loving you and being loved by you has made me feel a form of happiness I never thought possible for a person like me. Before I experienced this, love, I thought it would be simple, black and white, but it’s so golden. You’re my golden.”
He’d lifted her hand to his mouth and gingerly placed a teary kiss on the back of her palm. He didn’t let go. He couldn’t let go.
He’d never let her go if she’d let him.
“Spence, honey,” She sniffled. Making her cry hadn’t been his intention, obviously, but he assumes that from her giddy smile and softened gaze that they were tears of happiness, of love, of all things good. “I’m golden?”
He only nodded, but that was all she needed.
“You’re my golden too, Spencer.”
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fictionalmenxyn · 1 year
Note
How would the Task force 141 + los vaqueros react to their s/o wearing their clothes?
Thank and you and i hope you have a wonderful day! 😊
Hi of course I will write this for you and others! :) thanks, hope you have a good day/night too!
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Ghost
Definitely take either his t-shirt or hoodie/fleece (especially the grey one)
It’s a bonus if it still smells like him
They way he’ll find out is by walking into the break room and spot you in a rather large hoodie. So he’d walk over and see ‘Lt. Riley’ and he’ll raise an eyebrow of when you stole it.
Definitely likes you wearing it but messes with you. Like he’ll tell you how it’s his and how your lucky your his as well, as your wearing his clothes.
Likes that it shows your his as he can be protective of you
Make his heart beat a little fast as he is drawn towards you even more.
Sometimes he’ll leave his stuff in your room with a sticky note ‘wear me :)’
Definitely hugs you from behind and questions you of how you got it.
If your into oversized hoodies and they are able to fit him and he like the look of it. He will steal it for a bit as he always says it’s a fair game as you steal his.
Soap
His t-shirt or socks
Feel like if it’s socks it’s either cause your cold or cause you need thicker socks for certain shoes
You love that when he offers his t-shirt he makes sure it smells of him as he knows it comforts you
Loves seeing you in his clothes, goes giddy on the inside if he catches you wearing his t-shirt
He likes when you make him a cup of tea/coffee and sees you in his shirt. It makes his morning
If you wear his shirt and Ghost walks past he’d definitely call you Johnny. As a joke.
Gaz
A sweatshirt or joggers/sweatpants probably. I know this may be odd but maybe boxers
Like if you just got out the shower or sleeping in them as if they are shorts but you don’t wear them as actual underwear
He smirks and has lust in his eyes when he sees you in his sweat shirt and his heart beats faster if your wearing both items
You love that he actually loves his sense of style and likes to look fashion able
You usually wear his joggers/sweatpants if your going to bed probably with a tank top or sports bra
Gives you a kiss and a comment like ‘wonder who’s clothes they are? Cause I know they aren’t yours’
Like Ghost if you wear baggy clothes and they look nice he’ll definitely wear it. And it has to smell like you it’s also a comfort thing to him
Price
Hat, joggers/sweat pants or button down shirt
If he has multiple hats and he has ones he doesn’t wear as much as others you’ll pick them so he can’t really complain
If it’s sunny out, you’d wear one and see if he notices and if he does he’ll lift your chin up and ask ‘how did you get that?’
When wearing his joggers you’d wear them on cold or winter days as they are fluffy on the inside and act like a blanket
With his button down shirt it will be after a busy night out and your heads ringing and that’s the first thing you see
Or it’s your going to work and can’t find anything that fits with the out fit or yours are all in the wash
He find it cute when you scrunch your face when he asks about you wearing his clothes and you blush a tad
Alejandro
Shirt, tank tops, if he has one a cowboy hat (I believe he has at least one)
If he sees you with any form of his clothing on he fells like he has fallen in love with you again
If it is his short he’ll smirk and say ‘since when did you steal that, Querida (my dear)’ and you’ll just blush
If it’s his tank top it’s usually a hot day out. He’ll probably be wearing one too and if you both are wearing one. You’ll both stare at each other with lust and who knows what happens after ;)
If it’s a cowboy hat, my my. He’ll say ‘my my Señorita you look asombrosa (breathtaking) in that hat, I think I need to get one for you’
Sometimes you’d wear it in the summer to get more cover from the sun
He’s once again fallen in love with you. He thinks you couldn’t get any hotter we’ll all you have to do is wear something of his
Rudy
Fleece or hoodie
He’ll blush a little seeing you in his clothes especially for the first time
He’ll complement you and say you could/should wear it more often
He’ll hug you and give you a kiss and mention how good you look in his clothes and he asks if you want to wear any other hoodies he has
If he’s away and your at home you’d where his hoodie till the smell fades they wash it and put his cologne back on there
He loves how if you wear it around the boys it makes him feel a lot more calmer knowing that the boys know your wearing his clothes
Loves that you find comfort in his things like they comfort him
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jaemmphilia · 25 days
Text
heart stop (jung sungchan)
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☾ featuring: gym bro! sungchan x m! artist! reader ☾ synopsis: sungchan gets to...sleep with his crush !! ☾ content: (3.3k words), smut (18+ mdni or i will kick you), the sex is protected in this one (gotta be responsible), consensual photo taking, honestly this is just standard smut, nothing special ☾ notes: PART TWO BABYYY, this is a special collab with kyu !!!! @luvkyu this is where the nasty, filthy magic happens ☾ jaemmphilia, 2024. plagiarism of any kind is forbidden.
part one (in case you missed it)
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y/n stands at the edge of his bed, his hand holding his chin as he stares at the two sets of clothes laid out so nicely on his bed. his socked feet scratch his bare legs as he hums softly to himself.
y/n is aware that no one at the bonfire is going to care about what he's wearing, too occupied with cuddling close to the fire with their partners or crushes. and y/n is also aware that it's just an outfit, but he doesn't want to turn up to the function looking like hot garbage.
he considers the outfit on his left, but he realizes how much he likes the shirt on the right, it just doesn't go well with the pants on the left. he also considers going to seunghan's dorm and raiding the younger male's closet (seunghan has the best hoodies that smell amazing).
but then y/n's mind wanders to the reason why he's going to the bonfire in the first place.
sungchan.
he feels his face warm up at the thought of possibly snuggling close to sungchan as the light from the fire illuminates his strong features. sungchan's muscular arm wrapped around his shoulders as they whisper about whatever is on their minds.
y/n thinks about the way sungchan had given him a pat on the head just a hours ago, and it makes him chuckle. he doesn't know why sungchan went with a head pat, when there were plenty of other dismissal options in the entire world (a kiss on the cheek would've been less odd).
y/n just shakes his head and checks his phone. he has a few messages form seunghan, the other male announcing he would be barging into y/n's dorm in 5 minutes. y/n prepares himself for his best friend's presence, he quickly gets dressed and fixes his hair how it typically looks on a normal day.
--
when the two males arrive at the beach, bag of drinks in hand, they search around to see if there are any open seats for them to sit in.
"y/n! over here!"
y/n turns his head toward the voice calling his name and he sees shotaro, waving his hands and motioning for him to come over. y/n also notices eunseok and sungchan sitting next to him along with two empty chairs.
y/n smiles and walks over to the trio, seunghan right behind him. y/n picks the chair that's right next to sungchan, forcing seunghan to sit next to eunseok. y/n can see the pout on seunghan's face from his peripherals, but his eyes are on sungchan.
"we brought you guys some drinks," y/n says once he realizes he may have been staring for too long, "we didn't know if drinks would be provided, so we stopped at a 7-11 on our way here."
"y/n, ever the sweetheart. always thinking about others and not himself," shotaro says, bringing his clasped fits up under his chin and wiggling his body from side to side.
y/n stifles a laugh and shakes his head at his friend, "be quiet, taro," y/n chides his friend, reaching into the bag and passing a drink to sungchan to pass to shotaro.
as sungchan takes the can from y/n (he isn't looking at y/n, he's too busy listening to what eunseok is saying about some game), he feels his hand come in contact with something warm. he whips his head to look at the male beside him, his eyes staring intently into y/n's own pair.
sungchan just stares, his chilly fingertips laid gently on top of y/n's much warmer fingertips. shotaro snickers along with eunseok and he can faintly hear the shutter of a camera. he blinks and snaps out his lovestruck trance. he clears his throat and passes the drink down to shotaro who is still giggling like a schoolgirl. sungchan mutters a soft, 'shut up..' which only makes shotaro's giggles turn into full on cackles.
"i'm saving those pictures for a later day, b-t-w," shotaro says once his laughter dies down, and sungchan wishes he could just press the mute button on a remote and shut his friend up and save him from anymore embarrassment.
y/n just snickers and keeps passing the drinks around until there are no more. the group of five open their drinks and enjoy each others' company with light chatter and silly stories.
--
as the night goes on, there are laughs and happy energy shared between the five newfound friends. y/n checks his phone for the first time since they arrived a the bonfire, and he feels the color drain from his face. he gets up quickly, causing the other four guys to look at him with surprise and confusion.
"what's going on, babe?" shotaro asks, his brows furrowed at his friend's sudden frenzy.
y/n doesn't even acknowledge the pet name shotato insists on using. he's too busy digging his fingers into his eyes, a stressed groan falling past his lips.
"my roommate just texted that he was going to be bringing his long-distance boyfriend back to our dorm. so i can't go there tonight," y/n explains, leaning back in his chair, his head tipped back, exposing his neck muscles straining from the movement.
sungchan stares at the exposed skin of y/n's neck. he can't help but let his mind wander what the expanse of skin would look like with dozens of purple and red blotches littering the once clear skin.
sungchan is snapped out of his thoughts when he feels a pinch on his upper arm. he jerks his arm away and rubs at the sore spot as he looks at shotaro pointedly.
shotaro nods toward y/n, silently urging sungchan to offer his dorm and company to his crush. sungchan doesn't say anything for a second, his mind running a mile a minute at the thought of being with y/n in such a small place. he feels his stomach turn and he swallows the lump in his throat.
"you-" sungchan starts, his voice cracking but clears his voice before speaking again, "you can crash at my dorm tonight, my roommate is out of town for a few days."
y/n ponders the offer for a second. does he really want to be alone with his crush in a smaller space than he's used to? he weighs his options; he could either stay with seunghan, who tends to kick in his sleep and oftentimes talks in his sleep, or he could stay with sungchan and possibly get to know the muscular male better in the process.
after a moment of pondering, he replies:
"sure, it would probably be better than sleeping with seunghan, anyways."
"hey, that's mean, y/n!" seunghan defends, pointing a finger at the male who insulted him.
"i wasn't trying to be nice, hannie."
--
sungchan enters his dorm, y/n right behind him. he flips the light switch on, allowing y/n to get a good look at the room. y/n takes in his surroundings, taking note of the posters littering the walls. he sees a lot of sports posters and a few posters of musicians. as y/n's eyes look around, his eyes land on a little photo collage on the wall next to sungchan's bed.
he steps toward the bed to get a better look. he sees some landscape photos and some polaroid photos of shotaro and eunseok. a smile creeps onto his lips as he realizes that sungchan was the one to take the photos.
"i didn't know you did photography," y/n points out, making sungchan turn to the other male, "you're really good."
sungchan's cheeks grow pink at the compliment. not a lot of people are aware of his hobby, only his close friends and some of his family members.
"thanks. it's really just a hobby that i indulge in when i'm not in the gym or in class," sungchan explains, "i have more pictures. if you want to see them, that is."
"i would love to see them! besides, you've seen my art, i think it's only fair i get to see yours."
sungchan just chuckles and get his camera out of its bag. he powers the device on and waits for it to boot up. y/n marvels at the camera.
"woah, i didn't expect you to have a high quality camera. i figured you took them on your phone." y/n says, his eyes wide as he looks at the expensive camera.
"i mean, i like taking pics on my phone for portability reasons, but i like the outcome of the pictures way more when they're taken with this camera." sungchan explains, y/n letting out a soft 'oh' in understanding.
"i know how you feel. i have cheaper supplies available to me, but i like the outcome of the more expensive supplies better."
sungchan nods in agreement and he shows y/n the various pictures he's taken with his camera, the two of them sitting on sungchan's bed, their arms touching. neither of them seem to mind that their arms are touching because of how close they are.
once they get to the end of the photos, they look at each other and finally take in the proximity. sungchan stares into y/n eyes before his eyes automatically flit to the male's lips.
y/n takes notice of this and decides to lick his lips while sungchan stares. sungchan sucks in a breath, his eyes wide.
"is something wrong, channie?" y/n teases, and typically the nickname wouldn't turn him on, but the way y/n says it has sungchan's cock twitching in his pants.
"can i kiss you, y/n? i don't know if i can hold back any longer."
y/n just simply nods, and sungchan gathers up as much courage as he can, his tongue jutting out to wet his lips.
sungchan scoots closer and leans in to connect his lips with y/n's. the kiss starts out soft, their lips molding together for a moment before sungchan's hand comes up to cup y/n's jaw gently. sungchan's tongue swipes against y/n's plush bottom lip, the other male allowing him to slide the wet muscle inside his mouth.
the kiss only escalates from there, the male swapping spit and moaning into each other's mouths. sungchan pulls away and attaches his lips to y/n's neck, kissing the skin lightly. y/n just sighs, tipping his head to the side to give sungchan more room to work with. y/n slides his hands around to sungchan's back and he slides them under sungchan's hoodie, discovering that the male doesn't have a shirt on.
y/n lets his hands rub and grip at sungchan's muscular back. he feels the male nibble at the side of his neck and he moans softly at the feeling. it stings, but in a good way.
sungchan ends up lightly pushing y/n down to lay on the bed. sungchan is grateful that he and his roommate decided against putting their beds atop each other to make bunkbeds. if they had done that, sungchan would have definitely hit his head and possibly concussed himself before he was even able to touch his crush.
sungchan climbs over y/n and sits back on his heels. he quickly pulls off his hoodie, allowing y/n to see the one thing he dreamt about seeing. y/n takes in sungchan's bare torso, his skin the perfect honey color. y/n takes in the way sungchan's muscles ripple with every single movement he makes and y/n feels like he's drooling.
sungchan connects his lips with y/n's again, his arms on either side of the smaller male.
as they continue to make out on sungchan's bed, they take turns ridding each other of their clothes until the both of them are fully naked in front of each other.
as sungchan takes in y/n's naked form laid out on his bed, his eyes glance at his camera sitting on his bedside table. y/n notices that sungchan is looking at his camera and he already knows where sungchan's mind is going.
"i'll let you take one picture," y/n says, his hand reaching up to lightly pull sungchan's head to look at him, "if you keep it in a secret folder where no one can ever see it but you."
sungchan nods with out hesitation. he would hate to betray y/n's trust, especially before the two of them even had the chance to talk about their very obvious feelings for each other.
"yes, of course. i wouldn't dare show anyone something as intimate as this," sungchan says, reaching over to grab his camera and fiddle with the settings.
once he gets his settings exactly how he wants them, he holds his camera up to his eye to see what kind of angle he's looking for. sungchan gets into his photographer mode, his brows furrowed and his tongue poking out from between his lips.
y/n just giggles at the male, a soft smile painting his pretty face. sungchan quickly snaps a few pictures, capturing y/n's gentle smile and his eyes that are closed. y/n's wasn't posing purposely, he was just laying there on the bed, his body language comfortable, with this hardening length covered by his plush thigh.
sungchan removes the camera from his face and he takes a look at the results. his breath hitches and a warm feeling pools in his stomach. his cock stands at full hardness, which doesn't go unnoticed by y/n.
y/n sits up and reaches out to stroke sungchan's length. his hand wraps around the males cock, his up and down movements very slow, but his grip is snug.
sungchan almost doubles over, nearly dropping his camera. y/n apologizes with a laugh, his movements pausing while sungchan carefully puts his camera away.
once the camera is safe and sound, y/n begins to stroke the cock in his hand. he adjusts his position so he is able to wrap his lips around sungchan's cock. y/n bobs his head up and down, his tongue licking around the underside of sungchan's cock. his hands stroke whatever he can't fit in his mouth, and sungchan knows he isn't going to last if y/n keeps going.
sungchan shudders, a telltale sign that he's close to his release. sungchan places his hand on y/n's head and lightly grips at the male's strands of hair at his crown.
"y/n, baby," he sighs out, his head lolling backward, "baby, you have to stop before i bust."
y/n looks up at sungchan through his long lashes and detaches himself from sungchan's cock with a wet pop.
sungchan regains his composure and looks down at the male in front of him. y/n has drool mixed with precum gathered at the corners of his mouth and on his lips. sungchan gets the two of them back in their laying position, his hand snaking toward y/n's behind.
sungchan kisses y/n while his hand slips between the male's cheeks, his fingers gliding along y/n's rim. this action draws a shiver and a whine out of y/n, the male's eyes closing.
sungchan slips a finger passed the puckered muscle, taking note of how easy it was to do so. had y/n touched himself before the bonfire in hopes of getting fucked by him?
"my finger just slid right in," sungchan says after he stops kissing y/n, "did you prep yourself beforehand?"
y/n's face and neck gets warm at sungchan's question, he takes a second to answer, his mind clouded with sungchan, sungchan, and sungchan.
"i did, but not before the bonfire," y/n says, his voice shaky from the amount of pleasure he's under.
sungchan nods, slipping in another finger and spreading his digits to stretch the male (although he's stretched pretty good, what did he use?).
"you stretched yourself pretty good, baby. think you can take me?" sungchan teases, chuckling at how y/n writhes under him.
"channie, please," y/n begs.
"please what, baby? you gotta use your words."
"please fuck me, i can take it," y/n continues to beg and whine, his back arching off of the bed as his cock spurts precum from the tip.
sungchan wastes no more time, reaching over to dig in his bedside table's drawer to fetch his condoms and lube. once he retrieves the items, he tears the condom wrapper with his teeth and rolls the rubber onto his cock.
he shuffles his way in between y/n's spread legs and guides his slick cock into y/n's entrance. the two of them let out moans in unison, sungchan's being deep and guttural, while y/n's was more whiny.
sungchan bottoms out and allows himself to really gauge his current situation. he's buried deep inside his crush, something he never thought he would ever get to experience. sungchan allows y/n to adjust to his length and once he notices the male begin to rut his hips, he starts to rock his hips forward.
sungchan hovers over y/n, his arms once again caging the male in. sungchan sets a normal pace, not too fast, but not slow either. sungchan is aware that y/n isn't a virgin and that he's fairly experienced in the sex department, but he doesn't want to overwhelm the male under him. this is their first time together and he doesn't want to ruin it by being greedy.
"you can pick up the pace, please," y/n says, his face twisted up with pleasure, but sungchan can tell that he wants more.
sungchan replies by rutting his hips at a quicker pace, his entire length disappearing inside y/n, making the two of them moan and groan together.
after a handful of thrusts, y/n starts to get even whinier and his grip on sungchan's bicep tightens. the male arches his back and his cock starts leaking, the whiteish liquid dribbling down the sides of his cock.
sungchan picks up the pace once again, his hips beginning to stutter as he feels that familiar band in his lower stomach stretching and finally snapping, spilling his load into the condom. y/n follows right after, his load splattering against his stomach, some of it landing on sungchan's lower stomach.
--
the sun beats into the window, the bright light shining right into sungchan's eyes, making him squeeze his eyes shut as he stirs. his body feels spent as he remembers what happened last night.
his arms also feel full and as he adjusts to the light, he sees y/n laying there in his arms, the male scrolling on his phone. sungchan can't quite see what the male is looking at, but he guesses it is either social media or pinterest.
"morning," y/n says as he feels sungchan stirring and waking up, "did the sun wake you up?"
sungchan hums an affirmative, his hand reaching up to rub at his eyes, his body stretching, muscles flexing. the early morning glow warms up the natural honey color of sungchan's skin, the shadows of the blinds making him look like a painting made by leonardo da vinci himself. he hears a camera shutter and he opens his eyes.
y/n is no longer in his arms, but he's laying across from him, his phone in front of his face as he wears a cheeky smile on his face. sungchan gives him a puzzled look and y/n just giggles.
"what? i needed a drawing reference," y/n explains himself, squealing when sungchan pulls him flush against his chest, his hands lightly grazing the male's skin and tickling him.
"i guess it's only fair because i took pictures of you last night," sungchan says, resting his chin on top of y/n's head.
y/n just nuzzles his face in sungchan's neck, his nose lightly rubbing the skin, making goosebumps form on the male's skin.
the two of them spend the morning cuddled up in bed, choosing to ignore their friends texts asking if they're both alive and if they're sore.
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bonny-kookoo · 5 months
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More someone older smut drabble pls
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When he wakes up, he feels somewhat.. anxious?
He slowly sits up in his bed to look around, checking the digital clock next to his bed on the small table twice just to make sure that he's truly not asleep anymore. Because this- just doesn't feel quite real.
There's faint music playing in his home, outside the bedroom. The smell of something cooking fills the room as well, dishes clattering a bit in the sink in the kitchen. He knows it must be you- he's aware that you're staying with him after all. But still.
This feels too much like his mind making things up.
The bedroom door opens slowly, your head poking in, before you realize he's awake. "Oh, you're up." You say, entering more openly now. "I hope I didn't wake you."
"Why did you get up without me?" He wonders, feet meeting the floor as he's moved to sit on the edge of the bed, making you giggle as you sit down on the bed on your knees.
"Cause.. I wasn't tired anymore." You shrug, reaching out to somewhat tame his slightly wild bedhead. "And I thought you might appreciate breakfast?"
"I do appreciate that." He smiles, before he catches you off guard by tugging on your arm and making you lay down, before he positions himself over you. "But you could've also woken me up." He chuckles before pecking your lips once.
"But you were sleeping so tight." You say. "Looked like you were dreaming."
"Hm.. I was." He agrees, kisses moving to your neck. "Of you."
"Oh?" You wonder, stretching your arms above your head for a second. "What were you dreaming of?" You ask.
"Things I'd love to make a reality one day." He purrs against your skin, before he releases you again. 'I'll shower real quick, alright?" He tells you, before he pecks your lips once more and leaves into the bathroom to shower-
And you're honestly not sure what makes you feel so bold.
Maybe it's that feeling of safety you have with him, this odd sense of security here in his home, as if nothing can really harm you in here. So when you move to enter the bathroom as well, shower already running with him inside, you don't feel any sort of hesitation as you shed your clothes and join him beneath the warm water.
It's a sight that easily makes him stir alive, remnants of his dream revived as he watches the water pearl down your skin. The way you easily touch and kiss him is making his head spin, making him forget about your past hesitation in its entirety.
This is how it's supposed to be. Easy, simple. No worries about what might be the best thing to do.
Just existing.
Your hand on him makes him gasp into your mouth, a sound you eagerly swallow, his back hitting the tiled wall of the shower. He manages to turn the steady stream of water up ahead a bit lower as you fall to your knees, the anti slip mat on the shower floor cushioning them quite a bit as you work on him.
It's now what his dream was about- but he's sure he could never come up with a scene as serene as this anyways, imagination not advanced enough to even think of this potentially happening.
Just like back at your place before, this time once more he's a slave to your actions. It's causing his mind to go blank at the way your tongue runs over the head of his cock, beckoning him further and further towards his release. And then your hands join in to hold and touch what you can't fit, effortlessly making the muscles in his thighs spasm as he spills inside your mouth with his head thrown back against the tiles of the shower, a hand in your hair.
He can't let this stand.
And he doesnt- returning the favor shamelessly so with both his hands and mouth, eagerly devouring you as his first breakfast before he later on sits at the table in the kitchen to eat his actual one, conversation innocent enough to mask over the things that went down not even long enough ago to dry your hair fully.
If this is a dream, he doesn't want to wake up. If all the Christmas decor and your words about baking later are lies, he doesn't want to hear the truth.
He wants to stay like this-
And he'll do anything to make it work.
647 notes · View notes
shiny-jr · 9 months
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Get you a guy with thighs bigger than yours.
- Warning: Gender-neutral reader. 
- Characters: König.
- Summary: Thick thighs do not save lives.
- Note: This came about because I was just talking crazy in the dms with a mutual. I originally wasn't going to ever let this see the light of day, but then I decided, why the hell not? If I get smacked with delayed embarrassment, I'll just delete. Yeah, I know this isn't what I usually write and post, but oh well. Anyways, after this, we will be back to our regular scheduled content shortly. Oh, and sorry for minor mistakes, I wrote this like at midnight.
. . .
You decided to put a movie on. Just for a distraction. After about an hour into the movie, the leather couch got a bit uncomfortable since it stuck to your skin. So you slunk down to the floor, bringing a pillow or two down with you to use in case extra comfort was needed. The movie was beginning to lose your attention, but you still watched the screen attentively as if you were still focused on the film's plot.
What ended up catching your attention, was the slight shifting couch. Well, slight probably wasn't the correct word, as the movement was anything but light. It was safe to assume the shifting was from a guy who was well over 200 Ibs and a few inches short of 7 ft, although you didn't know the exact numbers because you never wanted to ask König outright.
It was easier to hear the movement, as the large figure scoot a few inches over. Instead of sitting beside you like he was a few seconds earlier, he had not so discreetly moved to take your vacant spot and sit directly behind you. He tried to stay quiet, he really did, but it wasn't so easy for him given his size. At the very least, he treaded carefully, not bumping your back once with his legs or accidentally knocking the back of your skull with his kneecaps.
You didn't move, but your eyes slowly glanced downward, where you could see the tip of his boots. Custom made, as most department stores didn't carry anything in his size. Most articles of clothing he had were custom-made or bought in special stores, save for that odd black diy mask he often wore over his head like a hood to hide himself from the world. Too afraid to lean back and accidentally make contact and disturb this fragile peace, you remain still despite the slight ache in your lower back that make you want to lean back and stretch. But you don't. All you could do was try to revert your attention back to the movie and not think any unholy thoughts, that is, until you heard more movement.
To not bump his knees against you, Konig spread his legs a bit and leaned down. The edges of his homemade cloth mask brushed against your back as you stiffened up, and you could make out the shape of his head beside yours as he whispered, "Do you, uh, want some...?"
Yes. "What???"
"Popcorn? Do you want some popcorn...??"
Oh.
After deciding whether or not you'd accept his offer, silence ensued, only fueled by the movie playing on the television. You weren't gonna lie, you have no idea what the hell was going on in the story anymore. A solid minute passed when he spoke again, sounding just as unsure as the first time. He spoke, as if whatever thoughts he had on his mind earlier where left to simmer for long enough.
"Scheiße. Sorry, should I have not moved here...? You can still lean back if you want?"
"Oh, okay... I, um, I'll do that."
Your back was starting to ache a little from sitting up without support, so, feeling just as awkward as he was feeling, you leaned your back against the couch. Instantly, as soon as you did that, your peripheral vision was covered by his knees and part of his legs. The movie was pretty much pointless now, as you were currently wondering whether you should thank whatever gods existed or curse them for the fact that König did not have shorts on. Even without shorts and with specially fitted cargo pants, they could not conceal the insane bulk of his legs. Especially his thighs. Good lord. The two pillows you brought down before from the couch were essentially useless now because on each side of your head were his limbs that rivaled the best of My Pillow.
Think of something else, anything else, is what you tried to tell yourself.
That idea would go out the window as soon as you felt something in your hair. Carefully twisting a few strands, you felt some thick and calloused fingers gently try and feel the texture of your hair. But it lasted only for a brief second, as he immediately pulled his hands away and murmured a tiny bit louder from his whisper earlier, "Ah, sorry, I should've asked first. I should not have done that. I am sorry––"
"It's okay, I... don't mind." You shrugged it off, and much to your surprise and contentment, he continued.
The first few seconds had a bit more hesitancy, but as time ticked by, seconds turned to minutes, his boldness increased. It started with his large hands carefully feeling the texture of your hair, then it became slow brush strokes as his thick fingers ever-so-carefully untangled knots in your stands of hair. Until eventually it escalated, and he gathered the courage to do something so bold as to scratch your skull. He could easily take your entire face in one hand and crush your skull, but he didn't. There was no sign of any such roughness. Instead, his fingers and nails continued to comb through your hair, lightly scratching your scalp. At first when he did this, he paused, and waited for any objections or signals of a negative reaction, but after no such thing, he continued and seemed pleased.
It was after about five-minutes and heavy mental debating in your mind that you decided to suck it up and go for it. What's the worst that could happen? Honestly, you didn't even expect to make it this far.
So, after taking in a breath, you let your head fall to the side. It wasn't like those romantic scenes where you watch the character lean their head against a love interest's shoulder. Oh no, you were skipping that part, your ear landed right on his thigh. Which was probably due to the cushion you placed underneath you on the floor that elevated you a few extra inches, or else you might've missed. In that moment, right as the side of your head landed on its intended target, you felt him freeze. His fingers stopping, nails still on your scalp. A second passed, then two, then three, like time froze.
You were almost tempted to pry yourself off and apologize, but you really didn't want to. But you had to ask. "Is this alright...?"
"J-Ja... I mean, yes..."
Your eyes widened, and you were sure you had on some goofy kinda grin but at least you weren't facing him so he couldn't tell. Once you heard his response, your shoulders slumped, relieved of tension you didn't even know you were carrying.
Even with your head against his thigh that wasn't plush but was still definitely comfortable, you realize you were no better than a man as you resisted the urge to just reach out and squeeze his other thigh that had gotten closer without you even realizing it. You had to dig your nails into your knee to prevent yourself from acting on impulse.
It was definitely almost pure muscle from what you could tell with your head on one of them. Firm but somehow still soft. Thick thighs, in fact, do not save lives, because these thighs have ended who knows how many between them in finishing moves on the battlefield. Lucky bastards. Trying your luck agian, you place a shaky hand on his other thigh, but he didn't react. A good sign? Possibly?
Forget goth gfs and thick plush thighs, apparently giant anxious austrian soldiers with thighs as thick as tree trunks and strong enough to obliterate skulls like melons were the new fad.
Movie totally forgotten, your vision was entirely covered when König leaned down a bit from his spot on the couch and you tilted your head to look up and meet his gaze. The masked man stared at you, his blue eyes peering down at you through the two small slits cut into his mask for his eyes to see. His mask partially dangled, but not fully, so not revealing himself to you. When your gaze traveled away, abruptly his thighs got closer, squishing your cheeks and the sides of your face but not enough to hurt. Just a bit of pressure to get you to look up again.
Oh god.
There was literally no space between your face and his legs anymore, and your arms instinctively went to the outer side of his thighs to try and pry them apart a bit. You didn't try much, maybe because you enjoyed it or because you didn't exactly have strength strong enough to rival his, so all you could do was clutch the pockets of his cargo pants that were just above his knees, your nails digging in softly just to get a quick feel.
Once he saw he had your attention again after he applied a bit of pressure, he cocked his head to the side and continued to look down at you through half-lidded eyes darkened by the shadow of his hood. Then he spoke, but this time with no apprehension in his quiet tone.
"You do know I've ruined others that were in a similar position to what you are in right now?"
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princessbrunette · 2 months
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hai!!!! just curious, because ik everyone kinda has their own definitions when it comes to different kinds of readers, what do you describe puppy/kitty/bunny/deer!reader as? what makes them them?
anyway, luv ya n all that ya do- ,,^-^,,
ooo fun question !! ໒꒰ྀིᵔ ³ ᵔ ꒱ྀིა
BUNNY:
she was born for the soft life. a highly organised system in her closet, and a whole separate closet just for shoes. she’s not bratty, she doesn’t even know what being bratty is or how to do it, but there are of course times she starts thumping her foot, whining and pulling at rafes clothes. this petulant behaviour is often solved by a stern look, a tap on the cheek or a reach under the skirt to tug at her fluffy bunny butt plug. her nose twitches when she’s upset, and has a big toothy grin when she’s happy. she leaves the glitter from her body all over rafe’s clothes, mink eyelash extensions on the sink, tubes of lipgloss in her boyfriends pockets. she’s an r&b / rap girl lover to her core, and a day isn’t complete without bouncing around her room to flo milli or saweetie. bunny doesn’t have an ounce of shame in her body— whether that’s from her skirt riding up in public (as to which rafe has to irritably tug it down again) to pawing at him, begging him for dick infront of his friends. luckily, rafe doesn’t have much shame either.
KITTY:
be careful, she bites! no really, she does — cross her and she’s squinting at you, sinking her teeth into an arm until you yelp. according to jj, anyway. she’s odd, and that’s what he likes about her— collecting horror movie memorabilia and trinkets from the thrift store she thinks might be ‘haunted’. she keeps her nails long, stiletto shaped even — whether that’s from scraping her money together for acrylics or growing them out herself. she has the craziest oral fixation, always needing something to lick, suck or chew on— that something often being her boyfriend jj. despite the black liner in her waterline, she is still a spoilt little priss who needs her pink ribbons tied round anything and everything, requiring the fluffiest of blankets and pillows for her daily nap. unlike bunny, she does work — having a little gig as a bartender/waitress at a beachside restaurant. she gets super huffy and puffy, not enjoying having to speak to so many people — but her boyfriend gaining a linecook job at the same joint makes things better. she’s deftones biggest fan, even owning a pair of panties with their album cover on the front. jj loves seeing them on the floor of his room.
PUPPY:
she’s playful, clingy, and ever so whiny. shes the most energetic of the bunch, firing off into a million topics at once, talking and talking until john b has to interrupt her to tell her to breathe or she will pass out. her signature is her big doe eyes, used as a weapon ready to fire at all times on anyone who dares to upset her. she’s not spoilt, infact she’s very humble and fairly docile unless provoked— she just requires oodles of attention and affection, pats on the head and praise are her love language! she works at the local pet store, often coming home with hilarious stories about handling animals, john b plucking hay out of her hair as she tells them. she has the energy to keep up with all the animals, running around until she arrives home to john b and passes out on his lap for a quick nap before bursting into a fit of energy once more. pup is never seen without her walkman, and can often be found dancing around the empty chateau with 80s pop blaring in her ears, or knocked out with the audio tapes john b had recorded for her to help her sleep.
DEER:
riddled with anxiety, whilst somehow being the most still and unsettling person in the room. deer!reader, much like a real deer is skittish, easily frightened, but ever so curious. she has a different view on the world to most of her peers, a master in people watching and could win any staring competition. she’s often found with her nose in a book, the topic being either of something completely fanatical, or something informative and peculiar. due to her reading habits, much like her boyfriend pope she is a whirlpool of information, constantly quietly spewing facts into his ear (which let’s be real, is practically foreplay for the two of them.) she has a tendency to get into trouble from her prying, exploring and staring — but she doesn’t mean to come across that way, she’s the picture of innocence really! she likes 50s/ 60s music, finding a charming and simple peace to the sound — and is a mass collector of callico critters, sonny angels and blythe dolls. pope finds it adorable.
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kachowder · 10 months
Text
The Farmer (prologue)
The smell of mold was thick, and permeated the room you had so dreadfully woken up in.
The back of your head ached in dull pain, that wouldn’t allow you to remember it’s origins. Your chest was heavy as if the wind had left you and your lungs had been squeezed empty.
Your skin felt greasy and stiff. You wanted to shower. You needed to shower. But you couldn’t move. You didn’t know where you were. Was there even a bathroom to shower in?
The rotting wood and rusted windows made it seem unlikely. Though you could hear the buzzing of flies and croaks of frogs from behind the wall. Most likely, wherever you were, was next to some kind of lake or pond.
The itch of your skin was making you want to jump in, regardless of what might be lurking inside.
When the door creaked open, it’s hinges scratching against each other unpleasantly, you only found the ability to glance up from where you head had slumped against your shoulder.
Dark, sunken eyes that looked ill fitting, like the skin sagged over a face that wasn’t meant to be there. Scratchy stubble littered his chin. Greasy, unkempt hair that looked to be self maintained, if the jagged edges weren’t telling enough.
His clothes looked like they needed a few washes. And the smell that followed him was…mostly unpleasant. Like stale water and must. Not the most offensive smell, but it made your nose scrunch just for a moment.
The man, who you could guess was a farmer of some kind, stepped forward into the room, nearing the faint light the spilled in from the filthy window panes. Just enough, to where you could see the odd grey hue of his skin.
“mornin’…”
Your shoulders scrunched involuntarily, folding the skin of your back as your ears took in his voice.
Deep, monotone and a bit gruff. Like the voice of a man who never slept a day in his life. But it echoed. Like two voices speaking as one, and it rang in your ear like a quiet siren.
You supposed your lack of response made this man uncomfortable, as his eyes darted to the side for a moment, and he stepped forward. Closer.
It was now you noticed the plate of food in his large, calloused hands. It was now, as he sat down beside you, that you noticed the stiff bed you had woken up on. It was now, as the memories flooded through, that you realized the predicament you were in.
Your car was busted. Your friends were missing. You, were stranded in the middle of nowhere, in the company of a stranger who offered to help you.
and a voice in the back of your mind told you, that you were being chased.
The shift of the bed and squeaking of old springs led your eyes back to the face of the farmer infront of you, who looked just as lost in thought as you were.
He mumbled incoherently to himself, brows narrowing as if he was in the midst of an argument. Fingers fiddled and curled around the saggy fabric of his shirt, and for a moment, it seemed as if this episode had ended.
Before he looked up at you. And suddenly his brows furrowed deeper and his lips set into a deep frown.
“Your car…’s not gonna start anytime soon. You might be stuck here…’a while.”
Your chapped lips pursed, uncomfortably. “Can’t you call some repair men?”
He mimicked you, glancing away almost guiltily. “Ain’t no-body around here for miles. No land lines neither.”
Of course there wasn’t. You seemed to remember having lost connection of your phone sometime before your car broke down.
“…what about my friends? I gotta find them.”
“If they passed through here…I don’t think you’ll have much luck…”
What a comforting response. The farmer acknowledged your glare with an embarrassed clearing of his throat. “I’ll…take care of ya’ till you can get back on the road…”
“I can take care of myself just fine.”
The way he looked at you made you sick. Like dread had been poured down your throat and was slowly filling you the brim. His gaze was intense and foreboding, warning you that you did not know what you were up against.
“It ain’t just the animals out there you gotta worry about…it’s best of you to stay here. At least for a while.”
And how long is a while?
-1-
You learned very quickly, that a while was more than three days. And you learned even quicker, that sometimes it was better to not ask questions.
That was one of the rules here.
1. Don’t go out at night
2. Don’t open the shed
3. Don’t ask questions.
That last rule kept you sane.
Don’t ask why you couldn’t go out at night. Don’t ask why you can’t go in the shed.
Don’t ask why the farmer talks to himself. Don’t ask why his bedroom is never used.
Don’t ask why the cattle go stalk still when he’s nearby. Don’t ask why the crickets stop singing and frogs stop croaking when he’s outside.
Don’t ask about the smell. Don’t ask about the lumps in the ground.
Don’t ask why your neck is wet and sticky every morning. Don’t ask about your car. Don’t ask about your friends.
Don’t ask how long you’ll be stuck here.
Live ignorant while you’re here. Don’t think. It’s safer, to stop thinking. You’ll lose yourself if you think too much.
Those weren’t your words. You weren’t sure who’s they were. But they worked. They were comforting.
So you didn’t think. You no longer wondered where your friends were. You no longer wondered how long you’d be stuck here, or how long it’d take to fix your car.
The farmer took care of you. He said he would, and he did. You ate well, you slept okay and you smelled better then you had when you first woke up.
You paid little mind to the lingering touches or intense stares.
Or the moments you swore you heard something growl when you passed by.
Nothing was perfect. But it was safe.
Because you followed the rules.
Until you didn’t.
The mistake of needing the toilet late at night. The mistake of leaving the farmhouse into the pitch dark land around you. The mistake of opening the shed, thinking that it had been the outhouse you were looking for.
The mistake of asking questions, when a dark mass of oil and flesh stared back at you.
“What the fuck is that?”
You didn’t feel so safe anymore.
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readychilledwine · 1 month
Text
A Debt Paid in Full
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Summary - Your father shouldn't have sent his prettiest daughter after refusing to pay his Tithe
Warnings - this is unhinged and kind of dark, virgin reader, younger female/older male, manipulation, smut, beron is... surprisingly giving and slightly charming but arrogant. Oral, fingering, unprotected sex, breeding Kink, beron
A/N - You all asked for it. Please don't ask for more. I feel dirty 🤣
The Whore Home Masterlist
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“Such a pretty little thing, aren't you?” Being circled by the High Lord of Autumn had to have been the scariest thing you had ever experienced. “Is that why Daddy sent you? Does he think a nice pair of tits will buy him time to pay his tithe?”
“No, my lord,” yes, you thought instantly. “He is just busy over looking the land and farms. He apologizes for sending a female in his place, but you know how we are when it comes to business.”
Beron seemed to smile as he studied you again. “I imagine you already know you are only useful for certain,” he paused, looking over your frame again, a true smile forming at what he saw, “activities.”
“My father taught me my place, yes.”
“How old are you?”
“302, my lord.”
“And unmarried?” He tisked slightly. “And unpresented to the court as an available female?” He circled you again, a new dangerous light gleaming in those eyes. “Why?”
You took a deep breath. “My mother needed me home to help with my younger siblings, and now that they no longer require me, I am a spinster per our standards, my lord. I am not a viable option for marriage.”
“But you are for fucking. Or for a second wife. A pretty little toy to keep around when someone's lady refused to come warm their bed.”
“Ah, a second choice. How very desirable. I will stay unwed. Be the village witch.” The statement was out before you could stop it. Beron paused midwalk, looking at you with those dark eyes and his brows raised. “I apologize.”
“You are lucky you are very, very beautiful.” A hand went to your light red hair. “Your spring court mother did you quite the favor. Her fair blonde hair mixed with red. You are a unique treasure.”
An odd feeling set into your stomach at his constant compliments, at his hand twirling your hair, his body so close to yours you could feel the fire that ran within him.
The Autumn Lord was by no means an ugly male. He had produced 7 beautiful sons, each one resembling him but with their mother's eyes and hair. He was fit, body lined and cut with muscle you could make out under his fine tailored clothing. 
“I believe you and I could reach a compromise, y/n. Regarding your father's discretion.” The sinking feeling of what he meant hit you as a hand trailed your lower back. “Your father knows I collect beautiful things, and you, little fox, are a beautiful thing.”
“Are you attempting to seduce me, my lord?”
“Is it an attempt when I can smell it clearly is working?” Beron walked you back to the wall, a hand resting on your hip and the other going behind your head to protect you from impact. “Is this what females dream of? A fae lord to whisk them away from their troubles, shower them in luxurious gifts and clothing?”
“I just dreamed of being taken away. The rest did not matter.” Beron smirked at the words, something that should have made your skin recoil but instead caused heat to settle between your legs. 
“Let's make a bargain, little fox. You stay with me, be my little second wife, and your family never pays a tithe again.”
Your eyes widened at the offer. It was a sacrifice you could make. What was your life in exchange for the safety of your family with your father's choice to ignore the tithe collection. Beron was handsome, the Forest House was beautiful, but he was cruel. “I want to be treated well.”
Beron hummed. “You will be, if you stay in line. Keep that pretty mouth in check. I was kind today. I will not always tolerate your attitude, though.”
The hand resting on your hip began to trail to the curve of your ass, the hand previously resting behind your head now, allowing him to lean into you and cage you into his body and the wall. “How soon?”
“Tonight. I have never been known to be a male with patience when I want something.”
“Why marriage? Why not just my maidenhood?” The question seemed to spark something in him, eyes growing darker and the scent of arousal being to consume every breath. 
“Why would I allow something so pretty to slip between my fingers? Especially when I didn't know I would be the one to ruin her? Yes or no. My tolerance for your questions is wearing thin and I can easily just drop you off as I have my eldest arrest your father.” 
What was your life, in exchange for the safety of theirs? “Yes.” 
That one word was all it took for him to pounce. Lips finding yours and dominating a heated kiss. He winnowed you from the room, taking you to what must have been his personal suite and walked you back to the bed. His hands roamed everywhere before picking you up and placing you on the softest bed you had ever dreamed of. “How attached to your dress are you?” The kisses moved to your jawline as he awaited his answer. 
“I'm not.”
“Good. I will give you a thousand more.”He burned every thread from your body, groaning at the newly exposed skin, so soft and untouched. Untested and unexplored. “I think your father knew I'd be weak for you. Your younger sisters had been presented to my court and married off, yet here you are. Hidden away because you were his most precious gem.” 
All you could do was whimper as soft thumbs ran over your nipples. Pinching them lightly. His lips ran to your neck, feeling like a trail of fire as they did. Every inch of you became so sensitive that you broke out in goosebumps. He stopped at a spot that made your back arch, sucking the skin there until you were sure you would bruise before continuing his path down. 
When he finally reached your breasts, he stopped temporarily, scooting you up the pillows a bit more before removing his crown and placing it on head. “Be a good pet and hold this for me.” You couldn't help but to laugh, but that quickly turned into another moan. “So responsive.” The praise quickly shot to your core just as a hand did, running along your soaked folds with an arrogant laugh. 
Every kiss, every lick, every gentle touch on your core had you mewling for him, back arching as you whined. When one finger pushed in and curled up, hitting a spot in you that you would have never found before immediately pulling it back out . “And such pretty noises.” You couldn't help but grip the sheets, praying to any God who would listen as his kisses continued lower until he settled between your legs. 
“Perfect. Just absolutely perfect.” Beron was oddly gentle, kissing your thigh. You could have died when he first licked at your core, growling as he did and nudging that precious bundle of nerves. 
“Beron,” you whispered almost in warning, fingers gripping the sheets tighter. 
“Ssh, relax.” He continued to motion again, setting your nerves a light and making you cry out at the foreign feeling. He continues then, slow methodical licks. Watching from lust filled hooded eyes as your back arched, as your mouth fell open, as your nails dug so deeply into his mattress your knuckles turned white. 
When his lips wrapped around your clit, sucking light as his tongue pressed into it, you saw stars. Then his fingers, his damned fingers pushed back inside of you, stretching you out and preparing you for him. It was all too much, yet not enough. He used his free hand to pin your hips down, leaving you with no escape from his mouth. 
Your stomach started to feel tight, and your mind became hazy, core clenching at the now two fingers pushing in and out, scissoring and dancing on the sensitive spot you have only read about in novels. You went barreling over the edge quickly, feeling him smirk on your core as you screamed for him. He pulled his mouth away, keeping his fingers deep inside of you, working you open for him. 
You had not even noticed him remove his clothing using magic, but he was bare before you. Scars littered his muscled chest and shoulders. They danced along his back and ribs. They were a reminder of his cruelty born in a place of hatred for his own father, his own upbringing. But for some reason, now of that matter, as he kissed you again, allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue. “Give me one more, y/n. Cum on my fingers before you get my cock.” 
He increased his rhythm, holding your head up to keep that golden crown resting on your head. His experience was quick to bring you over the edge again, forcing you to maintain eye contact as he did. 
He also kept your eyes on him as he used your slick to lubricate his cock, kept your eyes on him as he centered himself. And he kept your eyes on him as he pushed in, watching your mouth fall open again as the burn from being so full took over. Watching in sadistic glee as you whined and moaned. He barely gave you time to adjust, letting go of the back of your head in favor of pounding into you over and over. 
Now you truly could have died. You could have died with a smile growing on your face as he pulled out before forcing you to take all of him back in, making the pain quickly turn into a burning need as the scent of sex and sweat filled the air. He moved your legs, placing one over each shoulder and fucking so deep into you that you couldn't tell where you ended and he began. “So tight, pet.” His voice was breathy as his head fell back in pleasure. “Such a perfect cunt.” 
His thrusts became harder as he watched your face, trying to figure out what you liked. And a sudden gasp shifting to a wail of pleasure told him exactly what it was. Over and over, he hit that spot inside of you, the one he had found earlier with his fingers. His eyes almost seemed to roll as you grew tighter, clenching and twitching around him, swallowing him whole.
“Perhaps I should breed you as well. Make sure this pretty pussy stays mine.” Your body responded before you verbally could, gripping him higher and thighs beginning to shake. “You like that, don't you? Like the idea of being used, being bred. Fuck you're perfect. So fucking perfect.” His fingers found your clit again, massaging the swollen bundle of nerves as he buried himself into you. 
Completion found you again, ripping you so deep into pleasure as you milked his cock that you couldn't help but to fall into a silent scream. Beron fell over after you, heat passing through the room as he did and intensifying everything. He allowed your legs to fall from his shoulders. Catching himself on his forearms above you, he sat and watched as you came down from the high. He studied you like a new toy, plotting and planning what he would do to you. “Yes,” he spoke more to himself than you. “You will be quite fun to keep.”
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Beron Smut Taglist:
@secret-third-thing
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mykoreanlove · 5 months
Text
3+1
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„Why are you always hanging out with them?“
Judgy eyes mustered you intensely. You shrugged your shoulders, already bored by this conversation.
„Why wouldn’t I?“
Confusion was written boldly on your date‘s face.
„Well, you’re a girl and they are three guys so I don’t know. Isn’t that odd?“
A sad smile formed on your lips. You took another sip of your martini and got up from the table.
„No baby, your insecurity is odd. Bye.“
You turned around and left, ignoring his pleas to come back.
A mixture of frustration and restlessness engulfed you, so you decided to visit your favorite trio instead of going home. They were working relentlessly the past couple of weeks, you were pretty sure they needed the distraction just like you did.
„Guys?“, you shouted as you entered the studio.
„Well, well, well. Look who the cat dragged in“, Chan teased as he saw you. You rolled your eyes, too vulnerable to handle his attitude.
„Where’s Binnie? I’m not here to see you.“
You walked over to the booth where Changbin and Han discussed lyrics, observing them from outside as you felt Chan‘s strong arms slung around your waist.
He nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck and kissed the skin softly. „Since when are you not here to see me, babygirl?“
Your head fell back as you sighed heavily.
„Chan, I’m in distress. Do something.“
His hands wandered to your ass, squeezing hardly.
„You want something like this?“
Chan didn’t wait for an answer and moved his hands higher, kneading your breasts now. „Or something like this?“
The door of the booth flung open instantly.
„Whoa, whoa, whoa. What is going on here?“, Han asked erratically.
Your head stayed on Chan‘s chest as he answered for you.
„Y/N is having a rough day and needs some distraction I suppose.“
Han‘s eyes saddened for a second, he hated seeing you suffer. Changbin pushed Han to the side and made his way to you.
„Whatever my sexy goddess wants, she gets.“
He took your face into his hands and kissed you passionately. You grabbed his hair and pulled lightly, scratching his scalp a bit. You felt yourself getting wet as he groaned into your mouth. Additionally, you felt Chan‘s hands on your tits, kneading and pinching your nipples through your clothes. Heat rushed through you, you wanted more. You pressed your ass into Chan, feeling him getting hard behind you.
„You gotta be kidding me“, Han mumbled under his breath. „Where should I fit?“
You felt connected to all of them, but this little quokka was your favorite - you knew exactly what he was thinking. Your left hand left Binnie‘s hair and waved at him, motioning him to position himself between your legs.
Han gulped but complied, he loved being involved in this. You felt his hands on your thighs, freeing you from your skirt and panties. It was hard to concentrate while Changbin was sucking your face and Chan pinching your nipples. Loud Moans escaped your sweet mouth as Han‘s tongue circled on your clit, making you loose your mind.
The other two stopped, surprised by his involvement like this. For a while they watched you both, gaining pleasure from seeing Han eating you out like that.
„Bin?“, Chan whispered. Both shared an agreeing look and proceeded with their plan.
„Just how much in distress are you, baby girl?“, Chan whispered into your ear.
You panted, unable to form whole sentences. „All. The. Stress.“
Chan‘s fingers entered you from behind, stretching you out in the best way possible. „Fuck“, you moaned even louder.
„You like that, baby girl?“
His fingers went faster, a perfect addition to Han‘s tongue. You opened your eyes as you realized that only two pairs of hands were on you - where was Binnie?
„Fuck, Binnie baby. Cum like that.“
Changbin was standing in front of you, his meaty dick in his hands, jerking himself off.
He smirked and replied: „Only if you cum first, babe.“
The boys understood their assignment and intensified their pace, it didn’t take long and you exploded right there. Your orgasm washed over you like a tsunami, toes curling even in your high heels.
Chan held you in his arms, giving you stability since your legs shook uncontrollably. You regained composure and looked at Changbin, squirming and shooting his cum right on his own tummy.
You let out a laugh and relaxed, thankful for the boys‘ presence in your life.
„Your date didn’t go so well, right?“ Han asked, sat on the floor patiently.
You shook your head.
„No, he was the wrong guy for me.“
„Why?“, Changbin asked curiously.
You sighed. „Well, he had a problem with me spending so much time with you guys.“
Chan‘s chest vibrated from laughing.
„So, 3racha is the reason why your date went wrong?“
You looked up at him, nodding.
„Well, I guess we better make up for that.“ He placed a sweet kiss on your nose.
„What do you say, round 2?“
„And 3?“, Han and Changbin chimed in.
You smirked naughtily - who were you to deny a compensation like that, huh?
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leighsartworks216 · 8 months
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Hii I saw ur reblog about the kiss prompts!
I choose - "if you win, i'll kiss you"
With nervous kiss and height difference! 😳🙏
I actually had a hard time trying to fit these prompts together but I think I did pretty well!
Warnings: knife throwing, height difference
Word Count: 1,327
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AO3
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“What’s that make it now? 12 to…?”
“You’re such an ass.”
“Come now, dear, you’re being too harsh - my memory isn’t what it used to be, you know. How many wins do you have?”
Your glare could have burned a hole right through him, all the while Astarion looked every bit the smarmy bastard he was. He just loved teasing you. It satisfied him to no end to peer down at you as you fumed. Steam could come pouring out your ears and he’d still have that smug smirk on his stupid face.
You huffed through your nose, fighting the growing urge to throw the dagger right at his head - you’d miss anyway. This whole game started when you’d tried throwing a knife at a goblin as a last ditch effort. You missed horribly, and Astarion just couldn’t let it go. “Zero.”
He gasped dramatically and laid a hand on his chest. “Not a single one?! Well, this won’t do!” He leaned in, teeth showing as he grinned wickedly. “How about we make a little bet? Make things a bit more interesting.”
You scoffed. “So you can sweeten the deal in your favor and wipe the floor with me, again?”
“Hmm, I tell you what: in the interest of keeping things interesting, I’ll give you two throws. If you hit, you win.”
“Let me guess - you get three.”
He rolled his eyes. “Please, darling, I have some tact. I’ll get one throw. If I can hit the dummy square in the head, I win.” He accentuated the point by flipping his dagger in the air, easily catching it by the hilt by pure muscle memory alone.
You frowned, studying his face for any sign of deceit. You were getting really close to hitting… Gods, this is a terrible idea. You sigh. “Fine. What do you propose?”
A spark of mischief flickered in his eye, so quick it could have just been a trick of the light, but you knew him better than that. “If I win, you’re responsible for sewing up everyone’s clothes for a week.”
“And if I win?”
He smirked and lowered his face to be right next to yours, cold breaths tickling your ear as he whispered. “If you win, I’ll kiss you.”
Your heart raced as your face flushed. You could tell he noticed, too, when he pulled away with that self-satisfied look on his face. You cleared your throat, urging it not to shake as you grumbled, “It sounds like you’re making more out of this either way.”
“Yes, but one is certainly more desirable for you, no? Besides, what are the odds of you winning? You should have nothing to fear.”
You frowned, but he had a point. Resigned to your fate, your shoulders slump. “Fine. It’s a deal.”
“Excellent.”
You both lined up about 10 feet away from the straw dummy. It had numerous marks in its head and body, all landed by the vampire spawn beside you. But you felt good about this time. You felt you could actually hit it.
You didn’t hate the idea of kissing him, especially if it meant saving your hand the cramping of patching up your companions’ clothes, but, well… You’d never been kissed before. There was no reason why, you’d just never been close enough with someone to warrant it.
Your heart raced thinking about it. Your face was as warm as Karlach by now. But you swallowed down the feelings and focused. If you just aimed very carefully, you might be able to get it.
“You first, love.”
Gods, now was not the time for endearing pet names.
“Hush, fangs.”
He chuckled softly, but stayed quiet otherwise. You held the handle of the dagger, just as he showed you, and aimed. You took a breath, lifted it up, and with a quick swing it was flying through the air… Right over the dummy’s shoulder. You growled in frustration.
Cool hands smoothed over your shoulders, urging them to relax. “Take it easy, dear. Keep your wrist locked and keep your elbow tucked in when you lift the dagger to throw.” He slid his hand down your arm, leaving goosebumps in its wake as he showed you how to keep your wrist straight and your elbow close to your ear. Then, he backed away and watched.
Shaking off the phantom feeling of him standing so close, you readied yourself again. You aimed, pulled your arm back so your elbow stayed tucked in, and steadied your wrist. With a deep breath, you threw the knife.
Time seemed to slow down as it flipped through the air. All sound faded away. You weren’t sure you were breathing. All you could focus on, all that mattered, was this stupid dagger.
In barely a second, the knife found its mark in the straw ribcage of the dummy.
A tidal wave of excitement and joy shot through your system. You cheered and pumped your fists in the air and gave a victorious yell that put Karlach’s to shame. And then, in the next instant, another knife flew by and lodged itself right next to yours. Your breath caught in your throat. Your eyes were wide when you turned to Astarion.
He smiled, part genuine and part impish. “Congratulations, darling. It seems you’ve won.” His smile only grew more flushed you became. He crowded into your space, peering down at you like a fox staring down a rabbit. “Don’t tell me you’re going to back out of our deal now.”
You swallowed. “I…” You glanced around camp, but no one seemed to be paying attention. They were all too busy preparing for the next day. You met his eye again and lowered your voice to a whisper, meant for his ears only. “I’ve never kissed anyone before.”
His eyes widened, brows raising minutely. He never thought the brave, compassionate leader before him would be so… inexperienced, to put it kindly. You’d always seemed to carry this sort of confidence, he just assumed…
“We don’t have to,” he back-peddled. He’d never have suggested it if he’d known. Well… Okay he would, but that look on your face - puppy-dog eyed and uncertain. It twisted his insides. He started to step away, out of your space, but you caught his arm.
“No, I…” You took a breath to steady your shaky nerves. “I want this.”
“Are you sure?”
You nodded, but he could still feel the anxious way you fiddled with the fabric of his shirt. It was cute. And terrifying. You wanted him to be your first. It was only fair - you were his first after all.
Moving slowly to give you a chance to back out, he raised his hands to cup your jaw, fingers brushing over your pulse and tilting your head up. You were shorter than him, enough that he had to hunch a bit to meet your eyes like this. You held onto his arms, too unsure to hold him anywhere else. He leaned down, noses almost touching. He could see your eyes flickering from his eyes to his mouth; feel your heart beneath his fingers as it skipped with his proximity. In a final act of courage, you stood on your toes and met him halfway.
It was clumsy at first. You had no idea what you were doing, all you knew was his lips were soft and he tasted like wine. He gently tilted your head, smoothing out the initial uncoordinated start. His lips meshed with yours as he showed you exactly what to do. When you experimentally nipped at his lip, he almost groaned. It wasn’t perfect, but he was sick and tired of perfect. It was wonderful. He was almost reluctant to pull away. But you still needed to breathe, living thing that you were.
He chuckled as he pressed his forehead to yours, watching with rapture as you caught your breath, lips swollen so beautifully. “You are full of surprises, aren’t you?”
---
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stuffedteen · 7 months
Text
Magical Waistband
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Thomas had always been the poster boy for athleticism. With his chiseled jawline and bulging biceps, he was the kind of guy you'd see on the cover of fitness magazines. He loved working out, eating clean, and living a disciplined life. But little did he know, his life was about to take a turn for the curvier.
One sunny day in Southern California, Thomas decided to take a break from his usual workout routine and explore some job opportunities. He strolled along the beach and found himself at the entrance of Hollister. As he walked in, the smell of salty sea breeze and the sound of beachy tunes filled the air.
The store manager, Chad, was your typical surfer dude, all laid-back and cool. "Yo, dude! You look like you could totally rock our clothes," Chad said with a friendly grin.
Henry chuckled. "Thanks, man. I'm just checking out job options for the summer."
Chad's eyes lit up. "Well, that's perfect, bro. We're lookin' for some new staff, and you'd fit right in."
Henry nodded, completely unaware of what was about to happen. "Sure, sounds good to me."
Chad handed him a pair of crisp white Hollister briefs. "Here, man, try these on. They're like, our uniform, and they'll make you look even more awesome."
Henry took the briefs and headed to the changing room. Little did he know, those innocent-looking briefs were about to change his life forever.
As Henry slipped on the briefs, he felt an odd sensation. They tightened around his waist, but he attributed it to their slim-fit style. Unbeknownst to him, there was something magical about these briefs. They had the power to transform the wearer, but Henry was still clueless.
A few weeks passed, and Henry continued to work at Hollister. He enjoyed the laid-back atmosphere and was making new friends among his colleagues. However, something strange was happening. He had become hungrier than ever, and the once-disciplined athlete was now indulging in burgers, pizzas, and all sorts of junk food.
One day, as Henry glanced at himself in the mirror, he was shocked. His body had gone through an incredible transformation. His abs were now buried under a soft, round gut, and his muscles had softened into a curvier shape. His coworkers couldn't help but notice.
"Whoa, Henry, you've been packing on the pounds!" one of them said.
"Yeah, man, since you started working here you've blown up!" another chimed in.
Henry chuckled, still oblivious to the magical briefs' role in his weight gain. He continued to indulge in his newfound love for food, and his physique kept expanding. But he didn't seem to mind. In fact, he was starting to enjoy his new, softer shape.
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One evening, as he lay on his couch, his hand absentmindedly reaching for a bag of chips, his phone buzzed with a call from Chad. He picked up, curious to see what his manager wanted to talk about.
"Hey, Chad! What's up, man?" Henry greeted with a warm tone.
"Hey, Henry! I've got something pretty wild to confess," Chad replied.
Henry sat up, intrigued. "Alright, spill the beans, dude. What's going on?"
Chad cleared his throat. "So, remember those crisp white Hollister briefs I gave you when you started working here?"
"Yeah," Henry replied, scratching his head. "They're pretty comfy, I have to say. I've started wearing them basically everyday."
Chad continued, "It's all part of a change in company policy, man. Hollister decided we needed to be more inclusive, so we started hiring larger models. And the briefs, they, uh, magically enhance your physique to fit the new standards. You rock that new look. And I've gotta say, you've become a real inspiration for the brand."
He finally realized what was going on.
"Wait a minute," Henry mumbled to himself. "It's those darn briefs! They're making me chubby!"
The realization was liberating. He knew he should be concerned, but there was something strangely appealing about his new body. He looked at himself in the mirror with a newfound confidence and found himself incredibly attracted to the roundness of his gut and the softness of his body.
"I've got a size up in the briefs waiting for you when you come in for your shift tomorrow" said Chad. "See you then!"
Determined to embrace his new reality, Henry went all in. He let go of his strict workout routines and fully surrendered to his love for food. Burgers, fries, and ice cream became his best friends, and he watched his body expand with glee.
Over time, he fully embraced the life of a slob. His jock days were long gone, and he had become the embodiment of indulgence. It wasn't what he had planned, but he couldn't deny that he was loving every moment of it.
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