#🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓

[ask-shane]

marnie’s not home, you know what that means.

charlie on the counter.

[rosedom]

hey, hey, hey! i don’t know if you’ve done something like this before, but if you did, then you can just ignore it. so, um, insecure virgin ftm kuni, who’s specifically shy about being naked. then reader’s there, comforting him as he fucks the shit out of him, giving him all the pleasure he deserves. we basically give him comfort sex and say reassuring things to him. feel free to not acknowledge this if it isn’t up to your tastes!

it’s my first time requesting here, and i’ve read your works. you’re such a good writer, i swear.

"an unnamed player has invited WANDERER to play . . . my gaze is no threat unto you

✦ㅤㅤ 【 CW 】 dom!top!amab!reader, sub!bottom!ftm!wanderer, vaginal fingering, PIV sex, loss of virginity, reassurance + gratuitous praise, creaming + creampie, alluded aftercare .

A/N : this is so late . . but mmmmm this prompt was simply too sweet for me to pass up forever ><

"do you want to watch, [PLAYER]? press KEEP READING to spectate the match."

You close your eyes, and the shirt comes off; you know, now, that Kunikuzushi is left entirely bare, perched hovering as he is above your lap. It falls to the floor—somewhere—with an audible thud.

“Don’t look.”

You laugh, kind, and theatrically cover your—already closed, thank you—eyes. “I’m not!” 

He sighs. “I just—” he cuts himself off with a groan, arms falling from where they were perched on your shoulders. “Ugh.”

“What izzit, Kuni?” you ask, adjusting yourself so one hand stays firmly covering both of your eyes, letting the other be free to rest on the bare swell of his hip. Your fingers draw soothing circles across his skin. “Talk to me.”

“I—” He tries to scoot off of you, but your hands, quicker than your brain can catch up to them, both shoot out to grab his shoulders, to keep him from moving away; however, it only serves to trip him up, to make him fall into your lap. Your eyes remain shut, even as you feel his heat emanating against your equally bare thighs, your bare cock.

He reaches for your wrist, takes it in shaky hand; and you softly smile. “I’m sorry, Kuni,” you repeat, sincere—because even as you want him, in every way, shape, and form, you want only what he will give: if that means you cannot touch, then that is okay, too. 

“Sorry, sorry—” you stammer, and you try to correct it, to lift him back up, but—you’re running blind, here, and your hands miss the mark, groping down his flanks in pitch darkness. He makes an aborted sound in his throat, loud without your vision to counteract it.

His breath leaves him in a shaky exhale, slow, whistling through his teeth, before he falls limply into you. You can feel the flutter of his open eyes against you, eyelashes brushing your neck, before he squeezes them shut, squeezes out a quiet, “You can look.”

“But—”

“Do it before I change my mind.” 

Since you've reached his hips, finally, you give his soft skin a dutiful squeeze. “I’m not looking until you're absolutely sure, sweetheart.” 

Kuni groans again. “I’m sure,” he says, quietly, belying the way he acts so offended, so impatient. “Just look already.”

You tip your head to the side, eyes still stubbornly closed. You're about to say something else—probably another, Are you sure?—, but Kuni grabs your wrists and forces one hand down between his legs, forces your palm against his warm cunt. Your fingers, helpless to his strong grip, dip, just-so, into the give of his hole.

“Kuni—”

“I-if you won't look,” he mumbles, pressing his hips into your touch, “then you can at least please touch.” (It’s cute, how he thinks he's commanding when your finger is sinking into the first knuckle, his cock swollen against your palm.)

Your eyes flutter open, at that, gentle gaze falling on his flushed embarrassment. You only look at his face, and you shake your one hand out from his in order to cup his ruddy cheeks. “Kuni, baby, you're so pretty.”

“I—”

You cut off his words with a soft kiss, breath hot against his lips. “You're beautiful,” you say, louder, absolutely sure, “and you feel perfect.” Not look, not yet; instead, you only nudge your finger in deeper, slick n’ right to the root, and you delight in his choked off whimper.

(As the physical heft of him is heavy in your grasp, heavy on your palm, so, too, is the mental weight of knowing that this is his first: that you are seeing him, taking him, in a way that nobody has before.

It’d almost be a surprise, really, had you not known him so well.)

When Kuni’s body only melts into you, though, with no sign of resistance, of not wanting this—you finally allow your eyes to drop down, and—and—oh.

Your breath leaves you in a quick exhale, fingers stilled where they’re buried in deep. “You’re—you’re really, really beautiful, Kuni,” you murmur, breathless, and you’re not exaggerating—not at all, because really? Kunikuzushi is the most gorgeous man you have ever set your eyes upon.

He’s all pale, unblemished skin—that is, save for the sweet little birthmark below his eye. Even the mole is as pristine as the rest of him, silky and smooth as the skin of his cheek that your palm rests against. Speaking of his eyes—God. They’re this gorgeous, deep indigo, pretty as the midnight sky, and they’re looking away from you, abash.

“Look at me,” you murmur, the irony not lost on you (after all, was it not him only minutes ago, asking you to look at him?). “Let me look at those pretty eyes while I open you up for me, yeah?”

“Don’t be so crass—” he says, aghast, eyes turning sharply to you; yet for all he gripes, his eyes are molten, the pitch darkness of his pupils swallowing up the twilight of his irises. 

You merely curl your finger, once, to quiet him. “I’ll be as crass as I want, beautiful.” You ease a second, a third finger into him, working him open in gentle motions that make him bite his lip, make him cry out into the scant space between your faces. His hands fall, weakly gripping at your sides in a desperate bid to anchor himself against these new feelings.

Speaking of new: “After all,” you go on to murmur, leaning in close and letting your whispers fall against his pink lips, “it’s your first time. I wanna make this good for you, sweet boy.” You punctuate your words with a gentle stretch, pulling your fingers apart and nudging your fingertips against his g-spot. 

He gasps out, “H-how did—mm—you know?” 

When your pinkie fingers begins to nudge at the edge of his filled hole, a crystalline tear falls from the waterline of his eyes, wide and—is that fear?

“Lucky guess,” you reply, letting your hand slip free of his cunt and kissing away his soft, whimpering mewl. “Is this okay?” Your thumb collects the tear, smearing it away between your flesh as you make it known that you are going at his pace, even while you tease and play it like you're in charge; because for all the power you hold, you would so easily relinquish it back to him. 

(A submissive, a bottom—they hold all the power, like this.

Especially your virgin Kuni.)

But all he settles on is a gruff, “Get on with it.” 

Smiling softly, you nuzzle your noses together, giggling when he kisses you for it. “‘m gonna make you feel so good,” you promise against his lips, kissing him once before you take hold of his hips, “gonna make your first time awesome.” 

And Kuni fucking giggles. 

“Aha!” You smile, wide, even while you lift him and his hand scrabbles to position your cock properly, cockhead kissing his own before it catches on his hole. “Got you to laugh, sweetheart.

Now,” you continue, letting him slip into your cock, inch by inch, “you gonna let me fuck you silly?” 

He nods, desperately, all pretenses lost to the heady stretch of your cock in him. There's a resistance, brief, there-and-gone, before your cock passes through and sinks right in to the hilt. Your balls press against his spread-wide labia, but you’ve hardly the mind to pay attention to your own cock right now—not when Kuni’s nails are biting into your shoulders, now, tears flowing down his cheeks in thick rivulets.

“Kuni—”

“Move,” he interrupts, voice wholly shattered, “move, move—”

And you do. 

“You're so perfect for me,” you murmur, lathering the praise on thick as you guide him, hands controlling his grinds as he rides your cock with all that inexperienced gusto that makes heat throb low in your gut. “You're taking my cock so well, sweet boy, fucking yourself like that—God, Kuni, you're everything.” 

At a shift in the angle of your hips, he moans loudly, your cockhead butting against his g-spot in a way that makes his legs give out. 

“Please,” he cries, indigo bangs plastered to his forehead. “I—I can’t—”

“It's okay.” His eyes go wide as you tip him back, pressing him into the pillows and thrusting in deep, cock hitting new spots and bullying its way ever deeper into him. “It's okay, Kuni, baby, I got you.

“You can.”

He begins to thrash his head side to side on the pillow, overwhelmed with the new sensations wracking his body, of your cock sliding in, out, in, out; but when you reach down to thumb at the hot jut of his cock, he’s a goner. 

“Cumming—!” he cries, pulling you down into him as his cunt creams around you, as he buried his face into your neck and helplessly sucks at your skin. The feeling of his orgasm, of the way he moans so prettily, of the simple knowledge that you were his first (and that you will be his last)—it all sends you toppling over your own edge, cock pulsing as you empty yourself inside him. 

You can feel his heartbeat thrum against you. “Oh, oh, Kuni,” you coo, finally, the two of you finally beginning to calm down, hearts synchronized. “You did perfect.”

He huffs at you, tired eyes looking at you through damp lashes. “I—” he coughs, then: “Thank you.” 

“You don't need to thank me, sweet boy,” you murmur, kissing him softly as your limbs begin to pleasantly ache. “Let me run a bath.” 

“You don’t have to.”

You roll your eyes, fond, slipping out of him with a slick squelch that makes you hiss, forces the air out of his chest. “I want to. C’mon,” you finish, lifting him up beneath his knees (because God knows he'll be too shaky on them should be standing himself) and taking long strides to the bathroom. 

Losing your virginity—it’s not always so cut and dry, so easy, but Kuni is glad to have lost it with you. So as the warm bath water eases his own limbs, he leans back into you with a sigh. “Thank you,” he whispers, hardly audible, always so scared to be forthright in his affection.

You smile, soft, and kiss the wet crown or his head; you say nothing else, but the relaxed heartbeat that Kuni feels thumping against his back is all the response he needs.

He’s glad you looked.

yolo !! and anon, ur words r too kind ;; thank u <333 (‾◡◝)

15 MAY 2024, @rosedom, rosey .

[hotcinnamonsunset]

a knitting pattern you don’t want to chicken out on😉🐓

[konigsblog]

early mornings with farmer!könig

early mornings with könig include his firm, tight grip on your waist. he doesn't let go, not for a second. his tight grasp doesn't falter despite your squirming. groaning out and scolding you for moving so much, his face and nose buried in your hair — huffing at your sweet, strawberry essence. wearing nothing but your lace panties and bra, his thigh between yours and your legs intertwined with eachother.

it takes a lot to get up, too comfortable in eachothers silence and warmth. the sun peaking over the horizon, flashing through the blinds and allowing some cool air to seep through the gap in the window. the birds sing their melody, and he begins shuffling and moving. you almost think he's getting up — only pulling you closer and closer to himself. “sonnenschein...” his voice raspy, he grumbles out, eyelids slightly open before closing again, feeling as you turn to face him.

pressing your forehead against his, he smiles and chuckles before holding you tighter. his eyes finally crack open to admire your morning beauty, kissing your soft lips and leaning back on his white cushion. large, brute arm hung loosely around your waist, pulling you against him and covering his eyes with his other forearm. “so tired,” he mutters , you giggle. trailing your fingertips over his covered chest, a loose and breathable jumper on, the sleeves rolled up to his forearm.

he sits up, removing his jumper before leaning back down. a groan leaves him as you run your fingers to his abdomen, chuckling and holding your wrist before interlocking his large, calloused hand with yours. the sounds of birds chirping can be heard from outside, trees a bright green as spring approaches summer. the flowers are painted beautiful pastel colours, such as; purple, yellow and white.

chickens making the cluck-cluck sound and the sun a golden colour. the strawberries look ready for picking, perhaps you'll make a strawberry cheesecake or a pie of some sort whilst he works on the farm. his hands finding their way into your hair, noticing you zoning out. “what are you thinking about?” he smiles, seeing you flutter your eyes closed, a small smile curling the corners of your mouth. “nothing, baby.”

it's early, 05:21 to be exact. just twenty-one minutes past five o'clock, you had some time to spare. a knitted blanket at the end of the bed, and a yawn coming from your mouth as you finally wake up. sitting up, you pull your housecoat on, a white wooly robe around yourself, your bra peaking from the top. “coffee or tea?” your voice laced with honey, picking up his glass of water on the bedside table. “coffee, please, schatzi.”

the kettle boils and you do some dishes laying around in the sink, putting them away and adding the some milk before heading back upstairs with the mug in hand. he grabs the handle, smiling at you before you make your way to the bathroom to get ready for the early start of your day. cold water on your face and your breath fresh, a short, lace sundress on your form and some boots to go pick the growing, fresh fruit; the perfect season for them.

he's ready once your basket is full of red and blue berries, placing it on the counter before he heads off and onto the farm to feed the cows and chickens and sheep, calling you out to milk them. you giggle softly at his clinginess in the mornings; embracing warmth and comfort, holding you and snoring quietly behind you.

you did end up making that strawberry cheesecake, his favourite.

[guruiikeek]

Forgive me 💀

[m3nty-chocalatte]

Hope everybody's having a good pride month!

Shout out to...the gays

[lpsotd]

I know you do a lot of gen 1-3 but can you do #1-126 from gen 6?

todays littlest pet shop of the day is … rick chickencluck #1-126 !! for you, @finxwing !!

[rebouks]

The bees wanted an extra hour in bed.. 🐝

[sketchpng]

[ask-shane]

sing creep by radiohead GO

a couple drinks into the karaoke session and look who finally wants to sing 😑

[mymitochondriaforpresident]

“I feel safe with Edvin.” -Omar Rudberg [x]

[mechahedo]

this guy fucking GETS IT

[konigsblog]

i’m so warmed by all the pregnancy stuff with the farmers 🫣🤭 if you’re up to it! literally anything surrounding that, it’s so soft to read tbf. your writing is always so good, hits every time but the way you write pregnancy just hits different 🩷🩷

— thank you!! i'm glad you enjoy them, it makes me feel more confident in my writing and i appreciate you for saying such sweet things ! 🎀 i wasn't sure if you wanted smut, but this was rotting my mind !

⭒༉‧₊˚. kid headcannons with farmer!MW2 🌾🧺🐄

farmer!price has mainly sons. little boys always helping out on the farm, gasping when the pigs begin squealing and the birds make their call. takes such good care of them, and you as well. the boys love their mother; running up to you while covered in mud, overalls coated in brown sludge, giving in and hugging them tightly.

simon is a with the farmer concept is hard. i can't imagine it, i can imagine him working down in the bar down in the village, you joining along, or being his little housewife. wearing long dresses, and coming to him with your toddler boy and girl, giving them some sweets so they'll be alright and talking with your confident, funny husband.

(trying with the farmer!simon concept) who smokes a lot and always stinks of tobacco after a hard day. his little boy and older daughter (2 year difference between them) giggling with eachother, watching as she protects him. he's so proud of her and always makes time to help with her homework after breaking his back taking care of the carrots and cabbages.

farmer!soap who has 2 daughters. they're his princesses, and he'll do whatever it takes to keep them safe. walking with them, hand in hand, sent down to the village for fruits and vegetables by their mother. helping you make some blueberry pie for your husband after a long day. his daughters falling asleep at the dinner table with blueberry pie all over their faces.

farmer!gaz who has daughters. he treats them like angels, and appreciates when they help with the animals. i imagine his daughters to enjoy helping on the farm when they're a teenager; taking care of chickens and bringing back eggs, or getting hay on their jeans and t-shirt. spends a lot of time with them and they all appreciate his work.

farmer!könig has only daughters, i can't imagine him with daughters, at all. has a lot of daughters, perhaps 5, or maybe a pair of twins. they're so cute when they're toddlers; falling asleep on their daddy's lap, and getting their faces messy with cheesecake after dinner.

he's an amazing dad, and loves reading to them before bedtime. has an album of photos of them from their younger ages, and sometimes fell asleep on the rocking chair when they were newborns and woke up crying.

farmer!alejandro has daughters too, no son's for him. he definitely treats them like princesses and loves how sweet they are. makes funny jokes, and is very overprotective of them. oh, his daughter wants to go down to the village? no matter if she's a teenager, she's not going alone. if she waits for him, he'll buy her a ice-cream and allows her to help with the cows despite his constant scolding for asking! don't worry, he'll handle it.

farmer!rodolfo who has 1 daughter (i'm sorry, i can barely imagine half of these characters with son's!!) he lets her help on the farm and always appreciates her help. doesn't want to force her, but allows her to clean the pigs and take the eggs back to the house for her mother to use. when she was a baby, he'd kiss her every night and sit on a rocking chair beside the fireplace, lulling her to sleep and teaching spanish to her in her older years.

farmer!graves who has 3 sons, and his youngest, a daughter. they all look like him when he was younger; 3 replicas. his daughter has gorgeous, soft blonde hair and his blue, silverish eyes. not only does he treat her like a princess, he refuses to allow her to work on the farm.

— encourages his son's to help him on the farm, while she plays with barbie dolls on the porch and eats any freshly baked cookies her mother made. her brother's are around 9, and a pair of twins, 8 when she's 3. a sweetheart who has a pure, giving heart and always makes her father little cards or paper people using his old newspapers.

[onii-onahole]

Hanai

[m3nty-chocalatte]

Anyone ever heard of the three caballeros👀

Please send me content I crave

[27-moons]