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prael · 1 month ago

Text

For You

Newjeans Hanni x male reader smut

Masterlist word count: 1,729 Kofi(donations/commissions)

"Wouldn't you prefer if we actually— uh, you know?"

"Nope." It's just one word, but it's delivered amid a smile so bright, with a voice so gentle, and accompanied with a hand so tender, that you know she means it.

"But why?"

"Does there need to be a reason? Other than that I love you." Hanni's voice is so clear, and her face so earnest, that you almost can't bring yourself to protest. Almost.

"But— it just doesn't seem fair."

"Why not?" There's a coyness to her smile like she's just entertaining your thought for the sake of it. Her hand is a little quicker now too, and her breath is a little sharper and hotter on your skin.

"Because I— you're—"

"You don't think I get anything out of this?" She smiles, holding in a laugh like it's the funniest thing she has heard all night. "It makes me feel good to make you feel good. It makes me feel loved."

"Well yeah but..."

"Don't you love it when I do it to you? Don't you want me like this, on my knees?"

"Of course I do, but—"

"Then what's the problem?" Hanni's hand is moving faster now, and it's becoming hard to think straight.

"I— I just feel like I should be doing something."

"But you are." Hanni's voice is growing softer as your breathing gets harder. "You're here with me. You're giving yourself to me, and letting me take care of you." She pauses, smiling gently as she watches your face. "Do you know how happy that makes me? To know that I can have you like this?"

The tension inside of you is building faster now, and Hanni seems to be able to tell. Her hand is a blur, and you can barely keep it together. You struggle to warn her, "But Hanni, your face. Your hair, I'm gonna—"

"I want you to."

"But I don't want to mess up your—"

"I said I want you to," Hanni insists, though her tone still gentle. "Please?"

It's those big baby browns of hers again, with her hand moving even faster now, and her fingers curling, and that last little bit of resistance in you crumbles away. You close your eyes, your body tensing as your hips buck into her hand, and your breath comes in ragged gasps. You open your eyes again as the orgasm finally hits you, and your vision fills with Hanni's smiling face.

She lets out a little gasp of pleasure as your cum spills out over her face. A little bit gets on her hair, but she doesn't seem to care. Her fingers keep moving, drawing every last bit of pleasure out of you until there's nothing left.

"That's it," Hanni says, her voice soft and gentle like she's calming a storm. "Just let it all go."

You try to say something, to tell her how wonderful she is, but the words just won't come out. All you can do is stand there, basking in the warmth of the afterglow, as Hanni presses her face against your cock and kisses you.

"Good boy," Hanni says. She smiles up at you, her face painted in your cum.

Your cock throbs against her cheek, and you let out a little shudder—a small aftershock of sensitivity. The feeling of her rubbing herself against you is almost too much to bear, but also too good to pull away from.

"Did you like that?" Hanni asks, kissing you again, right on the tip. "Did you like cumming all over my face?"

You nod, and she laughs.

"I thought you might." She kisses you once more, and then slowly pulls herself back to her feet. She's still wearing that smile of hers, so bright and warm it feels like you could melt in it. "I loved it too," she says. How the hell does she still look so cute, so wholesome, while defiled in such a sinful way?

You look down at your cock, still hard and pressed up against her thigh. "But, don't you want...?"

"Don't worry about me." Hanni fingers at some of the mess on her face, drawing it between her plump pink lips. "That was just for you."

"I could—"

"Later." Hanni laughs, leaning her slender body against you. "We have all night for you to do whatever you want to me. On me. In me."

She reaches behind you, taking a few tissues from the box on the countertop and begins to wipe the cum off her face.

"But for now, we better get back downstairs, everyone will be wondering where we've got to."

You let out a deep sigh, your cock still throbbing, your heart still pounding in your chest. You take one of the tissues and help clean Hanni's face. She smiles at you, her eyes sparkling.

"Such a gentleman," Hanni says, clawing out the bits of you that got into her hair. "Even when you just used me as a cum rag."

You both share a laugh as she cleans up the last of your mess. You help her put her dress back on, and then pull up your trousers. As you head back towards the door, you're suddenly overcome with a warm sense of calmness. A happiness, set in your heart, that you can't really explain.

"Oh," Hanni says, stopping before she turns the doorknob. "One more thing." She wraps her arms around you, pulling you in tight. You feel her body against yours, her warmth, her scent, and she presses her lips to your ear. "Happy birthday," she whispers.

That night, it's the grandiose sequel to the sordid original.

"It's all about you," she whispers as she pushes you onto your back. Into the satin, you plunge, into the darkness. She rides you in the quiet of your room, her body bathed in moonlight, her hair tumbling over her naked shoulders. It's slow, and it's sweet, and it's sensual, and it's everything you could have ever wanted.

Hanni leans over you, and every little bit further she pushes, the more she arches her back and moans. Your cock hits her so deep like this, and she loves every moment of it. She blends from a slow grind to this bouncing of her hips. Her thighs slap against you as they shake wildly. Her ass jiggles from the impact of her against your hips, and you can't get enough of it. She's so wet for you, her pussy clenching around your cock, pulling you deeper into her with every thrust. You let your hands wander, grabbing her hips, cupping her breasts, and squeezing her thighs. You're mesmerized by the way her body moves, and you don't think you've ever seen anything so beautiful.

"Don't," she warns when you try to buck your hips to meet her thrusts. "This is just for you."

You groan in frustration, but she ignores you, continuing to ride you at her own pace. You do your best to keep still, letting her take control. Your hands roam her body freely, and she doesn't stop you.

"That's it," she moans as you cup her breasts. "Touch me. I want you to touch me."

Her words are like music to your ears. You squeeze her breasts, letting your fingers brush against her nipples. She moans again, her eyes fluttering shut. The sight sends a shiver down your spine. You can't believe how lucky you are to be able to see her like this. She's so beautiful, so perfect. And she's all yours.

As her moans grow louder, you know she's close. You can feel her pussy tightening around your cock, and you know what this usually means. Hanni will succumb to the pleasure, struggle to stay upright, and finally, fall to your chest and bury her face in your neck. It's adorable, and it’s the signal for you to roll her over, to take control.

This time, it's different.

Hanni seems to have other plans. When her orgasm comes, she keeps moving, riding you through it. Her body tenses up, and she lets out a long moan. You can feel her pussy clenching around your cock, but she doesn't stop. You've never seen her like this before, so determined to make you come. It's a new side of her, one you've never experienced, and you have to admit, it's ridiculously hot.

Her face is this twisted, blissful mask of pure ecstasy. Her mouth hangs open as she pants, and her eyes are screwed shut. Her hair is plastered to her forehead with sweat, and her cheeks are flushed red. She's never looked more beautiful.

You grip her hips, trying to hold on as she continues to ride you. You don't think you'll be able to last much longer, not with the way she feels around you. You can feel your orgasm building, and you know it's only a matter of time before you explode inside of her.

"Cum," is all she can whisper. It's strained and breathless like it takes all the effort in the world to utter the word.

She looks at you through half-lidded eyes, her gaze so full of lust that you could almost lose it at just a single look. She's never looked so sexy, so desperate, so needy. It's overwhelming, and it sends you over the edge. You groan, gripping her hips tightly as you cum inside her. She lets out a sigh of relief, her body shuddering as she feels your warmth flooding her insides.

"Oh god," she gasps, her body going limp as she collapses onto you. You wrap your arms around her, holding her close as you both try to catch your breath.

There's something in the air—something different. Hanni has always been good to you, but this is something else. This is special.

"Are you okay?" you ask when you're finally able to speak again.

"More than okay," she replies with a tired smile. "That was amazing. I've never felt anything like it."

"Me neither."

She snuggles up against you, resting her head on your shoulder. You run your fingers through her hair, brushing it away from her face. You're still buried deep inside her, and she doesn't seem to mind. She seems perfectly content to stay right where she is, with you.

"Best birthday ever," you say quietly, and she lets out a comforting laugh.

#Hanni smut #kpop smut #male reader #kpop fanfic #m reader #Newjeans smut #Hanni x reader #smut #kpop fanfiction #Hanni Pham

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peachesofteal · 4 months ago

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Simon with herding instinct on that physio snippet.... God what I'd do to be Reader (I'm not sick but I'm KO by my period, so I think I also deserve herding instincts and a cup of tea made by someone who is not me)

I think you deserve a little treat for your body torturing you Same reader as this (female reader)

"Fuck." You draw a deep breath through your nose and blow it out slowly, trying to push the pain away. You have a busy schedule today, and the 141 was expected to be back which meant you'd have the Lieutenant on your table at some point between now and twenty one hundred.

You do not have time for period pain.

Your appointments waltz in and out through the day, your focus turning from the stabbing, burning ache in your belly, quads and lower back, until the clock finally ticks down to nineteen hundred, and you slump over in your chair. A moment's reprieve, a second to get off your feet, exhaustion sinking into you, your longing for your bed and a heating pad stealing the whole of your attention. You can almost feel it, the hot shower, the comfort of your sheets, a cup of tea. Almost.

For now, you swallow more paracetamol and hope it lasts you through the rest of the day.

The door to the clinic swings open, and you don't need to peek outside the door of your office to know who it is.

No one has footsteps as heavy as his.

The Lieutenant.

The man you do not understand. The one who treated you like a small, fragile animal when you were sick, barging into your house and forcing you onto the couch, doling out medicine and hand feeding you warm broth. He pressed cold cloths to your forehead, held your hair and rubbed your back as you vomited.

The entire time you trembled with nerves, staring at the stitching of his balaclava, looking away each time his face turned towards yours. He hated you, why was he here?

Your fever broke, he disappeared. And the next time you saw him-

He went back to treating you just as he always did.

Coldly. Gruffly. Rudely.

Tonight would be no different.

So when you step outside and see him still in his full kit, arms folded across his chest, you wilt, already defeated, stomach tying itself in knots.

"Need m'back looked at." He barks and you fight the instinct to jump.

"Yeah, o-of course." The words are unsteady, you're unsteady, just like each time before, and he doesn't say anything else, just looks you up and down before brushing by you to get to the table.

He's the width of your workspace. Wingspan larger than should be humanly possible, width of his shoulders and back difficult to comprehend. He could tear you apart, if he wanted, so you've always treated him so carefully, staying focused, making sure you don't slip up and push his muscles too far or cause him pain. It's the same care you apply to all your patients, but with him, it's different. It's like diffusing a bomb.

His head is turned towards you as your fingers walk down the middle of his spine, working pressure points. Every time he twitches, or grunts, or even breathes deeply, you tense, but you keep your focus, kneading down to his sciatic nerve, pushing in deep, deep enough to make him groan, your heartbeat pulsing in your ears.

You don't even realize he's saying your name until he shifts on the table.

"S-sorry?" His eyes are locked the space between your legs, and you follow his sight line, gasping when you see what he sees.

Red.

Your standard issue khaki pants are stained dark red at your thighs.

"Oh my god. Oh my god, I'm sorry, I'm," you stumble backwards, hands flying to cover yourself, scrambling on how to get yourself out of the room and into the bathroom as quickly as possible. Your cheeks burn from humiliation. "I'm sorry, I uh- I'll be right back."

"Do you have another pair of pants?" He cocks his head.

I don't... I don't think so."

"Hmm." He continues to stare, and then, like he was having a conversation with himself, he swings off the table, reaching for the jacket he showed up in, before stalking towards you.

You stumble back, but you're too slow, and he catches you by your wrist, tugging you forward. You close your eyes. "Lieutenant-"

"Hush." The jacket goes around your waist, giant sleeves tied at your navel, the length of the hanging directly over where your pants are stained. You're not petite by any means, so the fact that this garment can even begin to cover you is a miracle in itself. But then again, he is massive. "Stay." He moves around the room, ducking into the other one with your desk, flicking the lights off, before grabbing the keys off the hook and shepherding you through the clinic to the front door.

"What... what're you doing?" There's a murderous look in his eye when he turns to you, and it freezes your blood.

"Takin' you home."

"I can get h-home myself." You hate the way your voice shakes.

"Covered in blood? You really want the entire base to see you like tha'?" The shame burns, and tears build on your waterline. "C'mon." His hand settles between your shoulder blades, essentially turning you into a ship with no sails, only a rudder at your back. Him.

He steers you into your house by your hips. You live directly off base, in civilian housing, luckiest of them all, if you're being honest, though in this moment, you're not sure you are so lucky.

"Leave your clothes in the sink." He orders when he lets you go, moving towards the kitchen.

"My clothes?"

"You know how to get bloodstains out of your clothes?"

"Oh, uh... n-no."

"Then..." he motions with his hands for your pants.

"Right now?" You squeak, and he nods.

"Now, pet." You fumble with the zipper and the button, hands trembling so bad you struggle with them. "Need help?"

"No! No... I got it." you get them down to your knees after a struggle, and then kick them off. Will he ask for your underwear too? He answers like he can ready your mind.

"Leave 'em on the bathroom floor. Shower, and then straight to bed."

"I'm not a child!" The protest is bold, boldest you've ever been with him, insecure, scared feelings coming forth in the outburst.

"Could've fooled me. Children need takin' care of, jus' like you." The words jam in your throat, stolen by the intensity of a cramp, and his eyes soften. "Go on up. I'll bring you somethin' for the pain, and some tea." There's no fight left in you, drained like the blood from your body, and your shoulders slump.

An hour later, in the dark, your door cracks. You're curled up in a ball, heating pad tucked against your pubic bone, buried beneath a mountain of blankets when the bed dips, the mass of the Lieutenant's weight settling next to your hip.

He sits you up, like a doll. Makes you take more paracetamol, finish a glass of water, and then pushes a hot tea in your hand.

By the time he's done, you slump back against the pillows, exhausted. Your eyelids go heavy, and he shifts you back to your side. You're too tired to argue with him, fight him, and when his fingers start applying counter pressure to your lower back, working through the tension, the tightness from your period, you let out a low moan. He chuckles. The man actually laughs.

"Why are you here?" You murmur in the dark, and he doesn't answer right away, sitting in the silence for too long.

And then-

"My mum always taught me to take care of my things."

#this was a good distraction from editing Simple math #still trying to shake the rust #simon riley x reader #simon riley #ghost x reader #peaches writes #also this is what I mean when I say I take requests

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eclipseslayer · 4 months ago

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DEEP IN THE VINES

➭ LAIOS TOUDEN X F!READER SMUT ONESHOT

➭ Summary: You and Laios get separated from the group and encounter a strange monster.

➭ CW: DUBCON! Tentacles, sex pollen, penetration, dirty talk, nipple play.

➭ WC: 4k

➭ A/N: Hello first Dungeon Meshi fic! Good to be here. Also I used the Greek word "plokami" which means "tentacle" for the monster. Idk. I made everything else about it up. ➭ Please like & reblog if you enjoyed!

"What a pain."

You groan, looking ahead of you as you view the endless sea of thick, long vines that hang down from what appears to be a very tall ceiling. The vines stretch all the way from the top, and don't stop stretching until they reach the floor, dragging on the dungeon floor like snakes, making it very hard to navigate your way through this maze that you and Laios fell into, thus separating yourselves from the rest of the group.

Laios has to agree with you as he lets out an exasperated sigh. He shakes his head as he figures Chilchuck is laughing with glee as Laios' curiosity for monsters finally lands him in a heap of trouble.

Laios draws his sword and grips the handle, and begins to cut through the thick vines, creating a pathway for you to follow him through.

"At least these vines aren't the man-eating ones," he grumbles as he cuts through a thick layer of vines.

You nod and you look around at the vines around you, taking in the different shapes and sizes of the vines, noting how some are thin and some are thick, and also noting how the colors are only brown and green, and then you look down at the array daggers strapped to your thighs. There's no way in hell you'd be able to cut through them with these daggers, so you just decide to let Laios do all of the work.

"Yeah... thank goodness," you say under your breath, replying absent-mindedly as you look around the vines again, your anxiety only grows as you see nothing but jungles of vines for miles. "Hey, Laios? How do we even know we're going in the right direction? I mean, we fell through a hole in the dungeon floor. We don't even know where we are."

Laios suddenly stops cutting and comes to a freeze, which makes you halt from behind him. He sighs again and rubs the back of his head, his fingers going through his blonde hair.

"Well..." He chuckles nervously. "I don't know if we're going in the right direction. I figured if I just started cutting then maybe we'd see some sort of clearing along the way that could at least give us some indication as to where we are, but... these vines are so dense..." His words fall off as if he already sounds defeated even though you can't possibly be more than twenty feet in.

You feel your heart clench at how defeated Laios already sounds. Usually—between him and Marcille—he's the optimistic one in the group, so to see him feel already so defeated makes you feel horrible. You reach up and with a small thunk, you put your hand on his shoulder and give him a sympathetic look.

"Hey. We'll make it out of here. I know Marcille is already panicking, finding some kind of magic spell that can track us down," you say with a chuckle, and that earns you a smile from Laios. "Don't worry. Let's just try to find some sort of clearing and we can rest, okay? I'll even..." You sigh, shaking your head. "...I'll even cook us up some of these vines for us, okay?" You tap one of the vines beside you.

With your words of encouragement, Laios' face seems to brighten up. He chuckles and looks down before slicing ahead with his sword again.

"You're right. Thanks. Let's go find us a clearing."

With another swing of Laios' sword, you continue the journey of trying to get out of this (literal) hellhole. The journey is long, and Laios has to switch arms regularly and also switches with you to chop the vines down because of how tired his arms had become, but, eventually, the thick sea of vines finally gets thinner and thinner, until finally, with one final swipe of the sword, you've reached a clearing.

It's a pond, a rather large one, that expands about forty yards. Surrounding the pond is nothing but lush, forest green with tall grass and trees with long, hanging leaves and limbs that droop down in a curling pattern. Mushrooms and flowers dot the forest floor, and sparkles of light seem to shimmer throughout the air. It's almost as if this space was right out of a storybook.

"Wow..." You step out from behind Laios, pushing away the vines from beside you and step into the grass, which is a huge contrast from that to the cobble from the dungeon floor.

"This is so strange," Laios notes, which breaks you out of your awestruck spell and turns you to face him. He's still standing at the boundary of the vines and the grassy area.

"Why would this area be here in the middle of the dungeon? I mean, it's not like we're on the upper levels of the dungeon anymore where you'd see grass," he mutters, and he slowly turns his head around to look at the pond ahead of you.

His logical way of thinking has you huff and you roll your eyes, as if dungeons were logical in the first place. They were ruled by magic and monsters—so why is this area any different?

"Oh come on, Laios. Relax." You look at him with an exasperated expression, your eyes droopy from how tired you feel from walking and cutting down vines. You rub your sore shoulder. "It's a dungeon, remember? Dungeons are weird. Maybe this is the dungeon seeing our poor, tired feet, so it decided to give us a break."

Your mind is already made up as you find yourself a big rock under a tree and sit yourself down in it, and you start opening up your bag to grab yourself a treat—that Senshi had made—to munch on.

You hear armor clinking and a sigh coming up from behind you as Laios takes a spot next to you to sit on the grass.

"I suppose you're right... still, though, let's be on our guard. Something about this doesn't feel right to me."

You raise an eyebrow at this as you take a bite of your honey-covered mandrake. You chew for a moment before speaking, and you turn to look at the blonde who's also taking out his treat from Senshi.

"Usually you're so excited about new monsters to find in these types of areas, Laios. Where's all of that excitement?"

He takes a bite from the food, and for a moment his face lights up but it soon fades away as he answers your question. "Oh, trust me, I'm excited about the monsters here, but, I'm just being cautious. I mean, as beautiful as this place is, it's surrounded by an endless sea of thick vines. Isn't it a bit eerie to you that this place just sticks out like a sore thumb?"

Well, when he puts it like that, you seem to have suddenly lost your appetite. You frown and put the mandrake back into your bag, closing the flap on it before you look up at the armored blonde. Maybe he's right. Maybe you should be more cautious, considering the things you and your group have ran into in the dungeon. For crying out loud, you fell into a gaping hole that led to this, so maybe Laios is right.

You huff and put your chin on your hand. "Maybe you're right... still, though." You look around the lush green surrounded by the wall of vines. "So far there aren't any threats so I think we should relax."

There's a brief moment of silence between the two of you, and you know that means the gears in Laios' head must be turning as he continues to chew on the mandrake. He stares off into the distance as he thinks, which you've picked up on as you've traveled with him, so you poke his side between the clunk and mesh of his armor.

"Hey. What is it?"

Laios is quiet as he continues to chew. His stare remains on the pond in front of you, and his eyes narrow. You raise an eyebrow, and slowly, you turn your gaze to where he staring and realization dawns on you when you see he's staring at the ripples in the water.

You feel your heart thump in your chest as you watch the water ripple. At first, you think it's harmless due to the ripples being small, but with each passing moment, they begin to grow, steadily.

"I've been thinking about what kind of monsters we might see here," Laios says suddenly, making you whip your head back to him. "And I've realized that only plokami tend to hang around environments like these..."

"Plokami?" Your voice quivers.

"Yeah... big monsters with tentacles that live partially in lakes but come out of the water to either hunt or mate. They have long talon-like claws that stick out of their tentacles to stab, and then squeeze and eventually sedate their prey with this toxin that emits from them," his words sound more excited as he continues, and he sits up straight as he keeps his focus on the rippling water, but your fear only increases as he goes into lengthy detail, "but when they mate, they use their suction cups and retract their claws to grab ahold of their mate, and they release that same toxin to sedate their mate so they have an easier time to coerce that mate into, well, mating with them! Isn't that neat?"

Laios' eyes are shimmering with excitement as he continues to stare out into the water, but all you feel is bouts of fear bubbling up inside you as he talks.

"Also!" Laios continues, not giving you a chance to respond. "When they come out of the water, they like to hang out in tall trees with big vines so it looks like they're camouflaging right in with their tentacles! Then, when the time is right, they snatch their prey up into the trees, and claw, squeeze, and sedate right there! Oh, also with mating, sometimes they don't care who their mate is! Sometimes they just pick up whatever they can to get out of heat if another one of their species isn't around."

Tall trees with big vines. That's all you could focus on as Laios rambled on about this plokami that you might see because this environment was certainly the type for it. Maybe the monster-obsessed blonde was right for being cautious, although, he doesn't look like he's being cautious now as his glowing face and shimmering eyes glimmer with so much excitement. Instead, it looks like he's going to hop up and go mate with this plokami himself.

"Yeah, their tentacles get all slick and lubricated whenever they're in heat, and—"

You gasp, interrupting Laios as you watch in horror as a big glob of something lands on Laios' shoulder. You quickly stand up and point at the oozing, clear liquid that has landed on his armor. You feel yourself trembling as your worst fear has possibly come true.

Gods. You're going to be eaten alive.

"L-Laios... y-your s-shoulder..." Plop. Another glob right onto his head. "...Y-Your h-head..."

Slowly, Laios puts down his mandrake and back into his backpack and stands up. The two of you slowly back away from the tree, and Laios wipes the glob off of his face so he has a clearer picture of where your eyesight has landed.

You stand there, stunned as your eyes remain on the tree before you, your body trembles as you look up at the large monster hanging in the tree with its long, tendrils of tentacles hanging like vines, its green skin blends into its surroundings perfectly. If it didn't have the large, squid-like head, you wouldn't have been able to point it out—you're sure of it.

You watch, frozen in a standstill as the monster heaves, its breath blows the leaves in the tree, shaking them as they fall to the ground, and the tree itself is coated in a clear liquid that seeps from the tentacles of the monster.

"I-Is... t-that..." You stutter out, but Laios finishes it for you.

"Yep... the plokami, and..." He pauses. "... it's in heat."

Laios almost sounds excited when he says that last part, which rips you out of your fear-ridden state. You whip your head towards him and you see his eyes, glimmering with curiosity once more like he always does when he sees a monster.

"Laios you freak!"

"I've always wanted to know... heh. Can you blame me?" He asks, but, with the way he's asking, it's more like he's just making a proud statement that he knows he's going to finally get what he's dreamed of for years.

He's going to fuck a monster.

He takes a step forward, almost as if he's offering himself to it, and he opens his arms, welcoming the plokami.

"Laios you're insane! What if it eats you after it—" Your worries are nothing but moot to him as he takes another large step forward the tree.

"Plokami!" He shouts to the tree where the monster lays, and another glob of that lubricant falls onto Laios' shoulder.

There's a big whoosh that sweeps through the air before you can realize what's happening. A gust of wind almost knocks you over which stirs you out of your fearful state, making it dawn on you that Laios has been swept up into the monster's grasp.

You groan, hating that your monster-obsessed friend is too curious for his own good, so, despite him wanting to fuck a monster, you quickly grab a dagger from its sheath. You grip it tightly and you throw it at the monster as it hits, and sinks down into one of its tentacles.

Unfortunately for you, however, this seems to make the monster more mad as it lets out a low, rumbling sound, and, before you know it, you're immediately hit with a large tentacle that almost knocks the breath out of you as it grabs you by your ribs and sweeps you up into the air, squeezing you tightly as its wet, sticky suction cups glide over your skin, making wet popping sounds.

"Laiooooos!" You curse your friend's name as you let out a groan, completely grossed out of your mind as the monster's wet slick drips all over you. You whip your head toward him and narrow your eyes as you see him completely relaxed as the monster rubs its tentacles all over Laios' body, slowly shrugging off his armor, making it hit the ground with a metallic thunk.

"Why did you have to fuck the monster?!"

"Because I'm curious!" He retorts, which, was the response you unfortunately expected from him.

"Well, I wasn't! I was perfectly fine, on the ground, and not slimy!" You shout back, and you wince when you feel a slimy tentacle glide around your throat. You swallow thickly.

Laios huffs and he rolls his eyes. "One, you were the one who angered it so it picked you up, and two, it's not slime! It's arousal fluid!"

You groan and you try to move your limbs around in an attempt to free yourself, but the hold of the plokami's tentacles is too strong, and to only make matters worse, they tighten around you as you struggle.

"Stop struggling! You'll only make matters worse. It'll squeeze you to death if you struggle. Just..." Laios sighs, "Let it happen."

You stare at him with your mouth agape as you watch him, clearly enjoying this as he relaxes in the monster's arms.

"You're crazy, Laios! I—" You struggle again, but this time the monster squeezes you again, tighter than last time, so you have no other choice than to relax. However, something is off when it squeezes you again. You smell something—something sweet. You sniff it, and you turn to Laios again, who's a blushing mess under the touch of the tentacles.

"Laios, do you smell that?" You ask, and you sniff it again.

He nods, and, as you watch him, a tentacle slips under Laios' shirt and slips it off, exposing his chest. Your face heats up at the sight, and he hangs his head back with a groan as one of the tentacles moves to rub his cock, which, you could see was hard through his tan pants.

"Y-Yeah... it's the sedative I was telling you about..." He mumbles, clearly already drunk under the spell of the sweet sedative. "This is why I was sayin' to just let it happen..."

Not like I have a choice, you think to yourself as you remember Laios saying that the beast used the sedative to coerce its mates.

The sedative lingers in your nose, the scent sickeningly sweet as it slowly starts to make you dizzy, almost as if you're drunk. You let your head fall back, and the tentacles slowly relax around you as they feel you start to relax as the sedative works its magic on you.

Your head feels so light, and you feel so weightless under the effects of the sedative. You sigh, accepting more and more of the tentacles as they glide around your body, and a few more join in to help slide off your clothes. You watch as the thick, slimy tentacles drag themselves up and down your body, leaving trails of wet, lubricant. It slowly slides itself up under your shirt and it pushes up against the fabric so it slowly slides it off, leaving your breasts exposed.

Normally you'd want to cover up with your arms in a situation like this, but, your head feels so light, and dizzy that you'd just rather relax in this. You hum contently, and a lazy smile forms on your face as you feel the tentacle glide down your pants, brushing over your pussy through the fabric which makes it throb with a silent need.

"Mmm... this is good, Laios..." You say softly, drunk on the sedative.

"I know... told you," he sighs in a heavy breath, and you tilt your head back to look at him.

He's laying with his legs spread open as the monster holds them open, and his pants have been taken off, leaving his cock pressed against his stomach.

You swallow thickly as you realize you've never seen Laois like this, all laid out and naked before you. You'd honestly never thought you would, but now... you let out a shaky breath.

"Laios..." You watch as the plokami moves one of its long tentacles up and down his body, rubbing over his nipples and tracing over his thighs with another tentacle, slowing inching toward his cock.

Laois shifts his drunken gaze to you and his eyes widen when he sees your top off, and the tentacle rubbing you between your thighs. His cock twitches at the sight.

"Gods, you look so good like that," he says with a sigh, and you feel your body heat up from the praise.

"Y-Yeah? Was about to say the same thing to you..." you reply in a soft voice, and Laios blushes again.

"Y'so sweet... always have been," he mutters through a drunken daze, and he groans as the tentacle finally wraps around his cock, slowly pumping it, coating it in nothing but the tentacle's slick.

You feel yourself throb with need as you watch the monster jerk off Laios, finding the image hot as you watch the blonde tilt his head back, his eyes fluttering to a close and his jaw drops open. He looks so good like that, you think to yourself and you let out a whine, wanting nothing more than to go over there yourself and sit yourself down on his cock, but the plokami has you in a tight grasp.

"L-Laios... I want you..."

You don't know where the admission came from, but, its the truth.

Laios' eyes open slowly when you admit that, and he groans as the monster seems to pick up the pace on his cock. You whine, wishing it was you once again so you buck your hips up, grinding against the monster pathetically as you feel the ridges of the tentacles grind against your cunt over your pants.

You look away from Laios at the moment to focus on the pleasure that the tentacle is giving you, and finally it slips inside your pants to take them off.

The wet fabric slips down your legs and off with a few swipes of a tentacle before returning to glide up and down your cunt, making sure to glide perfectly over your clit.

You let out a whine, and at that, Laios curses under his breath.

"Fuck, I want you too..." He replies to you, and he bucks his hips up into the tentacle, chasing after what he wants with heavy breaths.

You tilt your head back to get a good look at him, and, as you see his chest heaving, his skin red from the heat, and his throbbing, hard cock pulsing under the weight of the tentacle—it's almost enough to make you cum yourself.

You grind yourself against the tentacle, the wet, big, ridges from the suction cups make you moan as it glides against your sensitive clit, and, to add to the pleasure, a tentacle slowly makes its way toward your breasts, where it snakes its way around your nipples, slowly stimulating them which sends a shock of pleasure down to your pussy.

"Nnngh!" You look up at Laios as you grind against the tentacle with begging eyes as you wish it was him who was making you feel this good, and not some monster.

You're about to say something else to Laios when suddenly you feel a tentacle thrust into your poor, sopping-wet pussy, earning Laios a loud moan as it begins to thrust in and out of you.

Your head falls back, and you let out loud moans as you feel the tentacle move in and out at a harsh pace, and the thickness of it stretches you out so deliciously. You feel nothing but bliss as your head feels full of stars, and gliding into what feels like another plane of existence as you get fucked out on this tentacle.

Fire rises along your skin as you're enveloped into that feels like heaven as the beast pushes in and out of you, releasing moans out of you that you never thought you'd felt before. All of this pleasure slowly builds up, and you feel that fire kindle in your stomach as your breaths start to pick up.

You moan Laios' name. "Fuck... Laios... need to cum..."

"Yeah?" Laios groans and he thrusts up into the hold of the tentacle, feeling like he's on his last strand, too. "Me too... need to cum... wanna cum together?" He says under a rough grunt as his fingernails dig into the palms of his hands.

You nod eagerly, barely able to respond yourself as your head feels so light and dizzy from needing to cum.

"Y-Yeah..."

"A-Ah... cum. Cum for me." He lets out a low groan as he finally cums, his white seed spurts all over the tentacle around him and onto his stomach as he lets out a loud moan.

Just as he cums, you whine, squeezing around the tentacle as you finish, making your legs shake as you feel that fire roar inside your body, and, soon after, you feel a rush of warm liquid flush into you.

You look down, hardly unable to pick up your head as you see a huge load of milky white cum flow from the tentacle and into you, and you feel your cheeks heat up at the sight. You swallow thickly as you watch it all drip out of you.

There's nothing but a moment of heavy breathing exchanged from the two of you as you slowly regain your consciousness as the sedative has worn off now.

The plokami slowly sets you and Laios down onto the grass before it sinks back away into the tree, and down into the water in the pond.

Laios groans and sits up, rubbing his head as he looks over at you, who's panting and still laying against the grass, all fucked out.

He sees the cum from the tentacle monster, and slowly, he reaches over, before he can do anything, you quickly grab his wrist.

"Don't you dare, Laios."

"What?! I just wanna know what it tastes like."

#🌑 my fics #dungeon meshi smut #delicious in dungeon smut #dungeon meshi x reader #delicious in dungeon x reader #laios touden x reader #laios touden smut #laios touden x you #laios smut #laios x reader #laios x you

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hattiestgal · 1 year ago

Note

If you don't mind my asking, how do you go about drawing fat? :3

JUST THE EXCUSE I WAS LOOKING FOR

So, for me personally, a lot of the time when I draw fat characters, I'm not looking to specifically capture the specifics of fat as much as the feel of fat. Bulkier, rounder shapes in the right places that has a feeling of weight to em! A lot of that is intuition and simplification at this point, but it all works on the same frame as just any ol' person. Like take this-

For example. This is the basis for any body shape, not just the more average one that it may imply. Sure- it can be that average body shape:

But also a fat one too!

And a big part of that is knowing where fat usually tends to bunch up on the body, so lets take a look piece by piece! (Please keep in mind this is very simplified, and not completely precise in some parts)

THE FACE: Cheeks (in purple) and especially the chin (in light blue) are the places where a lot of the fat is gonna wanna gather and round out on your face! Additionally, theres a small pocket of fat beneath the cranium on the backside of your head. It's small, but it is there. I believe fat can build up elsewhere like the bridge of your nose and forehead, but generally speaking, you're gonna have a whole lot more buildup in other places first.

THE TORSO: A lot of the fat built up on the torso is gonna be sent to your tummy. More cushioning for vital organs, mostly out of the way, it just makes sense. Additionally, the lower backs fat builds up and joins with a patch of fat on your sides that forms what is typically referred to as the love handles to make that double belly look. Along with this, the immediate next target for the torso is the breasts, followed by the upper back!

THE ARMS: For this limb, a VERY notable amount of the fat present builds up on the tricep and bicep areas, lessening once you get towards the flexor and extensor areas. You can almost think of the arm as a sort of triangular shape, wide side starting from the shoulder and tapering towards the hand, which itself mostly builds up fat around the back of the hand and the fingers. The shoulders themselves don't build up too much fat unless you got a lot

THE LEGS: And finally, you can think of the legs having pretty similar curves to what you're probably already used to thinking. The front of the thighs getting a big buildup, along with the back of the calves, the other parts being flatter in turn. As far as the feet go- similarly to the hands, the top of the feet, along with the heels get most of the buildup, as fat on your soles would impede mobility. The glute, hip and crotch area will also especially build up fat, lending to the same triangular shape that you can see in the arm!

A big thing to note with fat is that it tends to taper off towards joints. Your knees, elbows, shoulders, hips, and all the other places are gonna have significantly less fat so that you remain mobile and flexible, as that's important!

Now that we have an idea of where fat builds up on the body, you might have something that looks kinda like this

Which yes, does demonstrate a solid understanding of the places fat builds up, lacks the weight you're probably trying to convey, which brings us to out next point! Fat is well... heavy! Gravity is what gives fat much of it's shape, especially as you tread towards larger and larger bodies.

This is demonstrated really well on the arms especially-

Those big ol' bits of fat'll really start to sag when left hanging, and they will squish like hell if they run into something. I like to think of these bits of fat as big ol' ovals that squash and stretch depending on if there's an obstacle in their way or not

These are the important shapes to remember when it comes to the weightiness of fat! If you take all of this into mind, you should be getting something a lot closer to that shape you've been after!

Oh, and always remember that fat bodies come in all variety of shapes and sizes! Play around with a whole lot, and seek out all the resources you can! it'll really lend to your knowledge when it comes to this kinda stuff!

And as I always recommend when it comes to learning art- look at what your favorite artists do with fat bodies. See what you really like about the fat bodies they draw and try to replicate it in your own work, I promise you it's one of the most helpful things ever.

This is like the most basic of basics when it comes to drawing fat bodies though. If there's any additional thing about fat bodies, or maybe you want clarification on something, don't be afraid to ask! If there's enough to cover, I'll make an addition to this post!

#hat answers #my art #design talk #tutorials #yeah im unfortunately pretty tired so this gets a liiiitle rambly at the end but i think this covers like the basic basics #i hope this was helpful at all #and again dont be afraid to ask questions and stuff #if theres enough traction/questions on this i will most definitely try to clear up as much as i can in an addition to the post #whoops this took a bit!

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palskippah · 1 month ago

Text

Hi! Nimona told him to do a thumbs up (also I hope you get the reference image because I couldn't find it ajkdsad)

There's some mpreg headcanons and drawings under the cut! :D

By the way the limit of images is 30 so I had to make some longer images with comics to save space and put more drawings 😭

-Also, small continuation from the previous drawing:

(I wrote baby album but maybe it should be those albums that people keep of the pregnancy process ajskd)

-When Ballister first started showing, he was a bit insecure about it, but Ambrosius helped with that, in the romantic sense of worshipping and whatever, but also like this:

Translation (did my best to see how to translate it sorry sdjksd it works better in spanish)

1 Ballister: I think it's too soon to be getting fat- Ambrosius: You know what else is getting fat? 2 Ambrosius: Who said that

-Ballister goes through the denial of needing new clothes, so imagine him still wearing the stuff he usually wears and Nimona coming from behind and picking at the clothes by his shoulder and going in a high-pitched voice, as if the shirt was talking - I'm tired, boss while Ballister swats her away and say, leave me alone, it still fits me >:(

(it doesn't)

>Also Ballister absolutely refusing to wear maternity clothes, the only one he got he was like, wearing it and looking very unimpressed, and Ambrosius' like, you don't like it? :( and Ballister says, No. It's ugly as fuck >:(

>So, he just gets bigger shirts and stretch-ier pants and that's it. Also he gets an oversized hoodie and he says that's gonna be his best friend the rest of the pregnancy, and both Nimona and Ambrosius gasp offendedly at that.

So-

Ambrosius (turning to look at Nimona): What the- hey, I am his best friend. Nimona: Course not! You lost that privilege with what happened that one time (she means the movie events, more than five years ago) Ballister: Ambrosius' my best friend, Nimona. Ambrosius: HAH >:D Nimona: Aw :( Ballister: Because you're my sidekick :) Nimona: :D Ambrosius: Hey, what now- that sounds better than best friend :(

-Ballister during most of the pregnancy is like, woo baby :) but at the very last months he's at least half of the time pissed off, tired and done with being pregnant.

(my incredible math skills in the next point)

>70% of that time he's mad at Ambrosius (who made him pregnant), 20% mad at Nimona (who consciously (and sometimes unconsciously) gets on his nerves) and the remaining 10 he's pissed off at Baby (and he gets sad about that one, because he's just a baby, so he redirects it at Ambrosius instead 😔)

>Ambrosius does his best to be of help but usually there's nothing he can do aside from being there (and sometimes getting out of Ballister's sight, if he's really angry- in the sense of 'I don't even want to see you now')

>Most of the time Ballister just cools off.

-Also Ambrosius giving him massages, sometimes randomly on his shoulders or his feet, and sometimes something more elaborated, like Ballister laying down and him using body oil, setting the ambient and all to massage his back (and Ballister almost always falls asleep in those).

>Sometimes tho he just does a 'chop chop chop' at his shoulders (it doesn't do anything besides amusing Ballister and keeping him company)

>Also Nimona said that of course he'd just randomly start chopping Ballister while Ballister does nothing about it, so Ambrosius starts chopping her instead

(made these two drawings with like three weeks of difference ajdkad)

(N/SFW thingies on the next four points and the next four images)

-Also with that previous point imagine Ballister waking up all angry, and Ambrosius just not knowing what he can do for him to stop being mad, but it turns out that Ballister had just woken up horny and pent-up.

>And once he realizes, he's like Ambrosius... (with intentions of getting some), and Ambrosius is like 🧍? because a second ago Ballister wasn't even looking at him.

-Also with this, Ballister is just very much hornier now (after the first trimester which was the worst) and Ambrosius doesn't mind at all - except when his jaw gets sore or he's running late for work because they lost track of time and also other situations ajsdks but usually he's delighted.

>(In the drawing Ballister just crossed one leg over the other once he heard Ambrosius coming in, because he can't maintain the position too long without getting uncomfortable sdjksj)

-Whenever Ballister is like >:c and looking in Ambrosius' direction, he immediately assumes that his husband is angry at him.

>Y'know when you look intensely at someone so they feel your gaze and look at you back? Ballister here is trying to apply that, but it doesn't work bc of the previous point askdad

-I had written sometime (I think) about them blaming Baby on literally anything that has more or less to do with him. If Ballister's crying, if he forgets stuff, if Nimona coddles Ballister too much and pisses him off, if Ambrosius wastes all the cleaning product in two weeks because he had been cleaning too much (he's nesting and realizes that sometime later), if Nimona and Ballister eat the weirdest stuff that at least he wouldn't eat in normal circumstances- and a long etc.

-During Ballister's pregnancy, Nimona works the most she had ever worked in her existence (in the biscuit factory):

-Both Nimona and Ambrosius are the most supportive c: yippie. Supportive husband/best friend and supportive sidekick/friend/sibling/etc

>An example would be of Ballister being tired, and if the time allows, the other two will immediately suggest a nap.

>Their collective naps usually last hours and they wake up disoriented, sweaty, with drool and the sheets marked on their faces.

>Also they wake up almost always stacked, Nimona always under the other two.

Translation

Nimona and Ballister: (snoring) Ambrosius: Fuck- what year is it? (tries to lift himself up)

-Also Nimona is the self-assigned pregnancy pillow, and at first Ballister had refused to let her do that, but as a sidekick she took it upon herself to make sure that her boss was comfy and could sleep well - and Ballister reminded her that that's not what sidekicks are for. She said, fuck off I'll do it anyways >:c

>Anyways he sleeps great with her help and earns himself a huge told you so from Nimona.

>I had written a thingy where just when she woke up she was like good morning boss :D while Ballister also said good morning and she hugged him while pushing Ambrosius away, even out of bed. I can't remember where I left it but once I find it, I'll see if it's good for posting pipipi Also Ballister and Ambrosius are corny husbands

>Also here I drew my vague idea of a bear bc I was too lazy to look for Nimona bear references sowwy

-Nimona sometimes shapeshifts into Ballister to make fun of him.

(This one joke gets lost in translation which is a shame but I'm gonna share the comic anyways sdjs)

>(She's messing around about names, doing a play in words using Gloreth's name while Ballister is already warning her to stop)

>Nimona urges them to get a name soon because Baby is almost born, and they're like yeah chill we're on it - and they're both sitting on the sofa, with Ballister's legs over Ambrosius' lap, while Ballister goes through their list on his tablet and Ambrosius focuses on giving him a massage on his feet.

They're like-

Ballister: So, Cyril? Ambrosius: No, my horse at the Institute was called that. Ballister: Right, then not that one... What about Casper? Ambrosius: Hmm... no. Ballister: Why not? Ambrosius: I don't know, I just don't really like it. Do you? Ballister: Eh, it's alright, I guess. I don't think Baby looks like a Casper, though Nimona: You don't even know how he looks yet! Ballister: You shut up, kid >:v Ballister: So, what about…

And they're making nearly to none progress but yeah sjdsd

>Also imagine Nimona (as Ballister) imitating what he does now that he's pregnant but x10 times more.

Translations

1 AUGHH- MY BACK 2 FUCKING AMBROSIUS! 3 Ambrosito? Can you get me a sweet treat? 🥺 4 I'M HUGE WAAA

>And while Ballister is like wtf I don't act like that, he turns to Ambrosius like, do I act like that? 😥 And Ambrosius, who was laughing to himself, goes, well... not so intensely, which is good enough for Ballister.

>But Nimona points out to what Ballister is eating with a mocking smile (and it is weird to be mocked by a version of himself that has a pink strand on his hair, but whatever), and he's like ? what? and realizes that he did ask for a sweet treat almost like Nimona depicted he does, because he did pull the big sparkly eyes and he did call Ambrosius Ambrosito while at it.

>Then he's wondering if he really complains about his back like that (he does, but as Ambrosius said, he isn't so intense about it, usually just holding his lower back and throwing his head back as he winces. Normal)

>(the yelling insults at Ambrosius is definitely not true. But he does throw daggers at him with his eyes when he's angry, he has to admit to himself)

>Now, about crying because he feels huge- yes. Very much true, but he doesn't wail. Just sobs and cries a river like the sensible, serious adult he is.

-Also that thing of knights don't cry and whatever. This one knight does cry, and he cries a lot (at least while he's pregnant).

>He cried once because he dreamt that Nimona was a little spider and even though he warned Ambrosius to be careful, he accidentally crushed her and he woke up not only incredibly sad but also upset with Ambrosius, even though he was aware that it was silly to get mad with him over a dream.

>Nimona was like boss :( while hugging him, and Ambrosius had to scoot a bit away because Ballister didn't even want to look at him as he wept. Ambrosius said a lot of reassuring words of I'm sorry, I think I didn't see her :( while Ballister was like, but I warned you so many times :'[

>Then he was like, I promise you, I'd never hurt Nimona. And Nimona herself said, yeah boss, I'd crush him first, don't you worry about it :) and Ballister said, but I couldn't protect you :''[ while hugging her harder.

>And both Nimona and Ambrosius are (internally) like, ohh, so that's what it's about.

>Anyways, just a bunch of hugging and comforting gets him to feel a little less sad and also Nimona saying, but you're great at protecting me now :D so, there's all that sdjksd

-Sometimes Ballister just breaks down over seemingly the most trivial stuff too (which is usually just the last straw over a bunch of other stuff going on)

Translation

1 Ambrosius: Balli? What happened? D: Ballister (with one eyeline going up and the other going down): Ambrosito, my eyeline's crooked* *the straw that broke the camel's back (his hair isn't cooperating) (his back hurts) (done) (clothes feel uncomfortable) (the baby won't stay still) 2 Ambrosius (doing Ballister's eyeline): Stay very still, love (focused) 3 (they're in front of the mirror) Ballister (laughing his ass off): BUT HOW DID YOU MAKE IT EVEN MORE CROOKED?! Ambrosius (embarrassed): Aw Ballister (holding his belly): Ow, Baby, don't kick me, sorry, sorry! I'll stay still now-

>(Y'know when a pregnant person laughs the baby inside gets all shaken skdsd I find it funny, so imagine Baby being like ??!! because Ballister keeps laughing too hard and shaking him all around and his kicks are like him going, stay the fuck still D:<) (Ballister's still weepy but now he's crying with laughter, which is better than him crying from being overwhelmed)

-Also Ballister's very scared of giving birth but he's very good at pretending that Baby will simply materialize in his arms rather than him having to push him out.

(Drawings based over this)

Translation

1 Ballister happy because his baby is almost born 2 (Remembers that he has to give birth to him)

-The day that he was in labor and all, imagine the water just breaking and stuff and Nimona being like 'okay everyone DON'T PANIC' while panicking and also Ballister's panicking too (Ambrosius' at work and when he's told he also panics and arrives at the hospital in record time still wearing his armor. The power of first-time father panic)

(But someone gotta be not panicking in the situation, so Ambrosius calms the fuck down and becomes the calming presence that Ballister can rely on c: also Nimona calms down too and goes back to being herself and is very good at distracting Ballister while he goes through contractions and the hours before pushing.)

>Also y'know how in TV sometimes someone else imitates the pregnant person's breathing exercises by going huff huff huff quickly ajsdkjd

>Also Ballister going Nimona what about the bags and also don't carry me there?! and her going shit right and ignoring the second half, then returning for the bags and grabbing them, all while holding Ballister like a doll (a doll with a little doll inside SJDS pregnant barbie)

En español pensaba que fuera = AYÚDENLO, SE LE SALE LA WAWA - NIMONA DEJA DE HACER SHOW

-Wrote a lil something about Baby's birth and Ballister going through kinda a rollercoaster of emotions because at the very beginning of the pushing stage he almost had a panic attack, but then everyone in the room helped him calm down, and when he thought everything was going great, the doctor offered Ambrosius to receive their baby, and of course his husband was very excited about it and said yes, getting dressed up in the medical gown, the facemask, the gloves and all that.

(Initially everything after that was supposed to go swiftly, but I thought, no, what if Ambrosius faints like some dads do? and after watching a TikTok of a woman whose partner did faint and they had to pause her birth to hold him up because he was like over 6 feet tall, I was like hell yeah that's it)

>When Ambrosius finally got between Ballister's legs to look, his blood pressure went the fuck down. And since he's pretty tall and the nurse that tried to catch him was pretty short, the other one had to join in and then the doctor too to avoid him slamming on the ground. The thing was that Ambrosius was clearly fighting very hard against unconsciousness, giving the three people holding him false hope about him finally holding his own weight, making them almost drop him multiple times.

>Sensibly, the situation was kinda scary, because the three people assisting his baby's birth were busy trying to hold his husband from fainting. Said husband was clearly fighting with everything he got to keep himself conscious, and Ballister could very much feel his baby crowning.

>But seeing three short people trying to hold Ambrosius up and yelping when they almost dropped him several times, and remembering that Ambrosius had been so excited about it but hadn't been able to even stand the view, and feeling pretty nervous because his main emotional support couldn't even keep himself awake-, made him crack up.

>So, he's laughing out loud and going every once in a while, owfuck- because it still hurts like a bitch, while the other three keep going, YOU'LL DROP HIM. BE CAREFUL, SIR?? SIR, CAN YOU HEAR ME? and Ambrosius' like, yea- (faints again)

>(they're well aware that they gotta deliver the baby, so they're doing their best to hurry Ambrosius to get out of the way)

>The whole thing had made Ballister's body feel weak from the laughter, and he had to try and calm down to have strength again and push the baby out.

>As you'd guess, Ambrosius didn't receive their baby, and had to sit down and eat something sweet to not faint again, but he managed to stay on his feet well enough to cut the umbilical cord yippie.

>So anyways, Baby out, wrapped and all that, Ballister kept laughing more quietly about it and saying that they should mark the date in the calendar to celebrate Ambrosius fainting over almost delivering their baby. And Ambrosius' like hmm, I don't know Balli, maybe we could use this date for our son's birthday, don't you think? and Ballister's like OH RIGHT and now started laughing at himself.

I keep thinking of new stuff that contradicts what I already have posted, sowwy

>Imagine Ambrosius practically begging Ballister to not tell Nimona, while the other says she'd love to know but also is aware that she'd never let Ambrosius live it down, so he agrees on not telling her. Both eventually tell both Nimona and Baby when the latter is older and inquired about his birth, and indeed, Nimona loved the anecdote, and never let Ambrosius live it down, since then.

-Ideas about Nimona infiltrating the room in the form of a nurse after Baby is born and blowing up her cover when she commented on the baby's nose being just like Gol- Mr. Goldenheart's. And also, his hair being black like Bo- Mr. Goldenheart's.

>At the beginning when they had been admiring their baby, Ambrosius had said, he got your hair D': pipipi (he cried the second Baby got placed in his arms, got a drawing of that but I don't like how it came out wah, Ambrosius' wearing a facemask and being all tear-eyed pipipi) and Ballister had said, he got your nose :D but Ambrosius had said no? that's just a baby's nose, how can you even tell. But after Nimona commented on it, Ballister's saying told you so, it's your nose, while Ambrosius' like, Mr. Goldenheart could be either of us (both smiling amusedly because Nimona's too silly and they clearly know it's her, but she's all idk who's Nimona?)

-Also, I don't know how to make that work with the idea that when she got kicked out to the hall for the pushing bit, she went to steal some flowers and balloons with 'it's a boy!' on them for Ballister. But anyways, I'll write that bit too.

-Also this is Goldenheart with their baby, and I drew it a while back but realized that I don't like it anymore, so I'll do a redrawing someday sdjksd

>Imagine that Ambrosius was in the hospital bed with Baby while Ballister was getting ready so they could leave to their home, and Nimona said pictures timeee and then took that pic, with Ballister pointing at Baby and being all :D Also, Ambrosius looked pretty good and all, and Ballister was all unshaven face, kinda messy hair, the hospital band with his name still wrapped on his wrist as he pointed at Baby, and yet there were some people online that were like ??! Ambrosius Goldenloin Goldenheart was pregnant??

>And the people that knew even if a little bit about the Goldenheart's life, and also because they still went out and whatever, were like ? no? didn't you see Ballister like, a week ago? (Where he was very obviously pregnant and Ambrosius clearly wasn't sdjkdj)

>Every once in a while, Nimona would remember about this and repost it again, even after Baby is much older.

And that's it! If you read till here, bless you ajsdkadj

I've got more stuff about mpreg, both written and drawn, so I hope to make another post like this sometime, they're very fun to make :D

#nimona #ballister boldheart #ambrosius goldenloin #goldenheart #my art #mpreg #i love them so much #giving Ballister the biggest honor I can as an artist -> making him pregnant #that's what he gets for being my favorite #se pone bien papi chulo #I reached the image limit again pipipi #they should let me put 238493 images not just 30 #also notice that bathroom I drew that barely looks like a bathroom jsdsd #apologies I was too lazy to look for references pipipi

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zyafics · 11 days ago

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BROTHER'S RIVAL | 03

MASTERLIST (Series)

Pairing — Rafe Cameron x Female Reader .ᐟ

Summary — You and your brother were born Pogues, but once your family made enough to move to Figure Eight, you became a Kook. Unfortunately, Rafe doesn't welcome Pogue-born Kooks. It doesn't help that your brother is determined to steal the 'King of Kook' title from him. So, if your brother is attempting to steal something from him, Rafe will return the favor.

Content — 18+, smut, angst, and usage of drugs.

Rafe: i don't like being ignored after giving u the best orgasm of ur life

You didn't expect to see that message flash on your screen. Especially since you're with your brother, helping him load all the shit he bought from Heyward's into the back of his truck. You didn't even know he got a truck.

Lowering your brightness, you type back a haste reply.

You: don't type that shit Dean sometimes reads my text

Rafe: but it's true

You: that's an overstatement

Rafe: how about you come over here and we'll test that?

You: no, thanks i'm with my brother

Rafe: maybe he should fuck off

You roll your eyes at the message, just as your brother calls your name. Slipping the phone into your back pocket, where you are positive Dean won't be able to reach, you turn back to see him standing on the trunk of his truck with his arms outstretched.

"Did you hear me? Bring me the next case." He declares, his tone chipped with semi-annoyance at your distraction. You were about the grab the box, but with his attitude, you decided to put your hand on your waist and stare him down instead.

"Do I look like a dog to you? Say it nicer."

Dean sighs but doesn't argue back. Rather, he prepares himself to lunge through the next few words. "My dearest sister, the light of my life, the only person in the world who I would kill for, can you pass me the goddamn beer?"

Close enough.

You reach for one of the cases of booze set near your feet and hand it off to Dean, who easily takes it off of you and stacks it in the back of his cargo bed with the rest.

"I still don't understand the plan here." You confess, picking up another box and starting a momentum. "You're going to host a party, so what? What does that gotta do with anything?"

Your brother decided that he wanted to start hosting parties at your house. Since now he's intersecting himself into more Kook spaces, he wants to also start stripping away the pride of certain members too. According to Dean, Rafe is the top host for the grandest parties on the island—his containing a multitude of wild nights and adventures, all oozed out of his all-expensive paid amenities.

But you, for the life of it, don't understand how this has anything to do with his goals. Dean confirmed, after your little encounter with Rafe on the golf course, that he did have plans on taking the title of Kook King from Rafe. That Rafe's hatred of him was not unwarranted. However, he didn't tell you why.

All you know is that for the duration of this summer, your brother is going to do everything he can to convince the rest of the Kooks to follow after him.

Dean sighs, approaching you at the far end of the tailgate, crouching down till his face is to your level. "It's simple. Kooks are superficial and flimsy. They are only loyal to the Camerons because they have money. So, we need to shift the tides."

You are not getting in the middle of this.

"We—" you gesture to yourself, then to your brother, "are not doing anything. You are trying to do something with something we don't have a lot of. AKA, money."

While your brother does have a cushy job that pays better than most living in The Cut, and your mother secured herself as a respectable accountant who works with several high-profile Kooks—your family is nowhere at the levels that the Camerons is.

Dean chuckles. He finds it humorous that you're trying to distance yourself from this ongoing rivalry, drawing a line that you would not cross. Though, he knows, you would choose his side if it came down to it. "I know," he agrees with a nod. "But that's not the only way we can even the playing field. We can get power elsewhere."

"You do realize that this is just a meaningless feud between the Kooks and the Pogues, right?" You remind your brother. You know that he's competitive and stubborn; when he sets his mind on something, nothing you can or do can change it. "That it's not going to matter in the long run?"

His jaw locks and it takes several beats before he answers. "It matters to me."

Your older brother pushes himself back up to his height, jumping off the trunk onto the ground, and starts carrying the boxes himself. Without your assistance. You feel like you pushed a button you didn't know existed, and step back timidly.

"Fine, tell me," you announce after a few minutes of unbearable silence, trying to retain Dean's attention. "How are you planning on getting power?"

"No, you don't care."

You grab your brother's arm before he hauls the next case onto the cargo bed. Finally, he turns to you. "But, you care," you rectify, in a small voice, "so that means I care too. What is your genius plan, Lucky?"

Dean lights up at the nickname you used. An inside joke between the two of you. When you were children, you two were obsessed with the film Lilo & Stitch—so much that you had adopted the nicknames as your own. However, for the better part of your childhood, you had a difficult time remembering it was Lilo. You kept calling it Lucky. In turn, you kept calling your brother 'Lucky.'

"Alright." He sets his current case on the tailgate, turning back to give you his full attention. "Y'know how Kook doesn't just party? They do a lot of other shit too. They smoke. They do drugs. They fuck one another on the off-chance that they could gain something from it—a job, an inside scoop, maybe even the life of a housewife."

You raise your brow at his example. "Men can't be the sluts?"

"Can you let me speak?"

You raise both your arms in surrender. He cuts you a playful annoyed look before continuing on his mastermind.

"So, that means, Kooks change loyalty based on whoever has most access to the things they want. The drugs, the alcohol, the parties. Everything. If I can take that away from Rafe, they will shift their loyalty."

You cross your arms, considering his words. "You can't honestly believe that's true. They have more loyalty than that."

"I don't think so," he shakes his head, the firmness in his voice makes you wonder how he's so confident about it. "They're not like Pogues. Loyalty isn't the only thing they have left."

You don't respond. Instead, you remember. You can't shake off the rising guilt in your gut, knowing what happened the other day with Rafe—your brother's enemy—and how your brother still doesn't know. While you don't consider yourself a Pogue anymore, you know you are loyal to one thing.

Dean.

Your family.

This, you are certain.

In that moment, you decided that you need to put some distance between yourself and Rafe. That whatever happened that night was a one-time thing, a flunk in the system, a brief moment of vulnerability.

Your phone buzzes in your pocket again and this time, you pull it out, expecting to see another text from Rafe.

Unknown: come on, don't ignore me

You swallow hard, clenching your phone in your palm. Dean has returned back to lodging his cases onto his trunk, picking up his own routine without you.

"Hey, Dean," you call out, to which your brother hums in response. "Have you talked to... him?"

It takes a moment for your brother to register who you are referring to, and his whole body goes rigid. "No," he says with gritted teeth, not bothering to hide his discontent. "I blocked that bastard months ago."

He glances down at your phone clutched in your hand. "Didn't you?"

You know you should. You know it would be better for you. But, something in you just doesn't allow it to happen. That you wonder, for a moment, if he would ever change and need help. To get back on his feet. To make amends. You couldn't let that happen without you.

"Yeah," you lie, "I was just curious."

—

The party is full of Kooks. You didn't expect this many people to show up, especially knowing that they're supposed to be resenting you and your brother, but somehow you were proven wrong. Perhaps it's because Dean went all-out that drove them, or because Kooks didn't like to miss out on something on their own street, but they're here.

You wonder, for a split moment, if what your brother said has some merit.

The party wasn't just Kooks. He invited the Pogues too. Unlike you, where your friends dropped you upon learning that you were moving to Figure Eight and you didn't care enough to keep in touch—Dean carefully kept in contact with his childhood buddies. Because, at heart, Dean still sees himself as a Pogue.

You didn't care. You took advantage of it. Dressed in your best party outfit—a skirt that barely covered anything, a top with such a large cut that practically revealed your cleavage—and a fuck-it attitude, you descended to the party and have fun.

You drank, danced, and even grind against a couple of guys on the dance floor.

That's when it hits you. Where is Dean? Usually, by the time the second guy got too handsy with you, he would appear out of nowhere to shove the guy off. An overprotective streak that you can't help but roll your eyes to, it's also a measured move that allows you to know when and where your brother is at all times.

Taking the final sip of your drink, the liquor of mixed fruits and vodka slipping down your throat with a burn, you separate from the guy to search for your brother. He wasn't outside, where most of everyone is, lounging around the lit pool; he wasn't on the roof, where Kooks were jumping off the ledge into the water below; he wasn't gone—his truck was still here. When you went inside, you searched the first floor to find him nowhere in sight. That's when you head upstairs. Opening the door to your room, you didn't find Dean.

You find Rafe instead.

"What the hell?" You exclaim, your words slightly slurred as you step into your bedroom and lock the door behind you. Rafe turns around, his previous attention paid to the various frames decorating your walls now pins onto you. "What—what are you doing here?"

"I heard there was a party," he shrugs, his demeanor completely casual while his hands rested inside the pockets of his khaki shorts. "Thought I'd check it out."

"The parties downstairs,"

"Huh," he hums, feigning innocence. "I must've gotten lost."

You aren't satisfied because, despite your intoxicated state, you can clearly see through his lies. Crossing your arms over your chest, you accuse, "thought you gave yourself a house tour the other night?"

"I did," he chuckles, closing the distance. His height towers over your own, and as he meets your gaze, a smirk rises over his face. "I got distracted."

You swallow hard, your heart skipping several beats knowing exactly what he's alluding to. It doesn't help that Rafe carries the same look behind his eyes—the same glint he had when he made you come.

"You know," Rafe begins, trailing down the length of your body, causing heat to bloom under your skin, before meeting your eyes again. "I talked to girls before and none of them has ever made me work as hard as you."

He's referring to the fact that, while you're replying to his texts, after your talk with Dean, they've been mostly monosyllabic answers. One-sided attempts at a conversation. You thought he would take the hint to leave you alone.

Once again, you're wrong.

You cross your arms and challenge him, "Go talk to one of your girls, then."

"Nah."

You don't know if it's the alcohol or his words, but your entire body is buzzing. You should leave, and go back to your search—what were you looking for again?—but something made you stay rooted in your spot. Rafe takes note of your internal battle and takes advantage of it.

Moving even closer, until he's nothing but a breath away, Rafe lowers himself to your level, his mouth right beside your ear. "You know what I can't stop thinking about?"

"How you can't seem to take no for an answer?"

"No," he chuckles, his breath fanning the crook of your exposed neck. "You and your little moans as you called out my name."

Your legs squeeze together, arousal stirring in the pit of your stomach as your mind flashes to the vivid memories of that night. Of Rafe touching you and making you come with the skillfulness of his hands. You can't help but imagine what he could do with his tongue.

Pulling together whatever little restraint you have left, you set a hand on his chest. "Well, cherish it. Because it's not going to happen again."

You're proud of how steady your voice sounds. It's almost believable.

But Rafe doesn't look completely convinced. A cocky smile forms on his face, his eyes diligently scanning your features, picking you apart under his scrutiny.

"You don't believe that."

"I—" You begin, stuttering. Goddammit. "I do. I'm serious."

His hand raises to cup the side of your profile, the pad of his thumb drags across the plump of your bottom lip and they part unconsciously. His smirk broadens.

"Look at you opening up for me. Showing me how much you want me."

You internally groan. He's so infuriating, hot, and obnoxious, that you can't believe you're falling for any of it. You need to do something. Flattening both hands on his firm chest, you give him a light shove, forcing him to release.

Turning, you head for the exit when Rafe captures your wrist, spins you around, and crashes his lips onto yours.

Everything zeros into this moment. All those nightly fantasies of Rafe kissing you finally come to life as he groans against the taste of you. His hand travels to the nape of your neck and holds it tight, using it to steady himself as he presses closer, pulling you in, needing to feel nothing but skin-on-skin.

And you allow it. You don't know if it's because of the vodka mixers you had, or because Rafe is just an incredible kisser, but the way he sucks the plump bottom of your lips draws out a breathy moan, and your skin buzzes with fervent heat. His free hand descends down to grab yours, before placing it against the hard bulge under his pants.

"Do you feel what you do to me, princess?" He murmurs against your vodka-stained lips. "I fucking need you."

Your eyes connect with his, but meet nothing but the pitch-black of his dilated pupils. "You're drunk," you say breathlessly.

His tongue swipes across your bottom lip, leaving tingles in its place, before he confesses, "Not enough."

Then, his mouth meets yours again.

Without breaking for air, Rafe steps forward, causing you to step back. It becomes a two-person dance, and it doesn't end until the back of your heels hits the frame of your bed, tumbling you onto the mattress.

Rafe is immediately on you. Your back flattens against the sheets, your heart thundering, as Rafe parts from the heavy kiss to lay wet ones on the side of your throat, teasingly, nibbling the tender skin until he leaves a mark, before moving down to the valley of your breasts.

Half of you wish you weren't wearing such revealing clothes. The other half wished they were already gone.

Your core aches as Rafe's hands fall between your legs, skimming the short skirt, until he feels the patch of your panties. "You're so gorgeous," he confesses, before chuckling at the slickness collecting on his fingertips, "and wet."

He tells you to lift your hips and you oblige. Removing your skirt, he toss it to the floor, and his eyes zoom into the red pair of panties you decided to wear tonight.

"Did you know red's my favorite color?" Rafe asks. You shake your head softly. "Do you know why?"

"Anger issues?"

He grins, his thumb gently stroking the drenched spot in a way that causes your hips to buck off the bed. But he pins you back down. "It's because it's a good color to fuck to."

"Never knew you were the type of guy to set the mood."

"Didn't need to. You did it all for me."

You open your mouth to retort when his thumb massages your clit in such a sensual manner, a moan rips from you. Rafe watches the way your eyes flutter from the ounce of pleasure, how easily stimulated you are by his touch, and he revels in that feeling.

"You want me," he murmurs, full of confirmation this time, but you don't answer. Rafe watches the way your teeth sink to your bottom lip, embarrassment flushing your face as you refuse to accept it. "Say it."

"You want me," you correct, changing the subject as you arch into his hand.

His fingers stop their magical strokes, and you whine. "No, princess, you want me. I want to hear you say it."

Desperation seeps. Your core aching, pleading for stimulation, and he is right there. You have half a mind to push him off and finish the yourself, voyeurism included. But, you don't. As your eyes connect with him, you breathe out with reluctance, "please make me come."

It isn't exactly what he wanted, but he takes it.

His fingers slip under the band of your panties, pulling them off and discarding them. You thought he would do the same methods as the other night, his fingers finding your sweet spot, but he surprises you when he lowers his mouth and finds your swollen nub.

"Shit," you whisper breathily, his mouth suctioning the clit in a manner that causes your back to arch. Your hands go to find his hair, threading your fingers through his roots as you grind on his face. "That feels so good."

"You taste so fucking good," Rafe growls, the vibration of his words causing your stomach to tighten. When he sees how responsive you are to him, he slips two fingers into your pussy, feeling your walls immediately fluttering around his digits.

He fingers you, as he sucks on your clit. The double stimulation causes your head to spin and your heart to hammer out of your chest, your stomach coils with the familiar pang of pleasure.

"Oh my god, Rafe," you moan, gripping his hair tighter. For a moment, you're afraid of hurting him, but it's quickly dismissed when he flattens his tongue against your slit.

"Say my name louder."

"Rafe."

"Would you do anything I say to come?" Rafe asks, taking the opportunity to get something from you. And you're willing.

"Yes," you whimper, tipping your head back against the bed. "Anything."

"Moan louder for me, baby."

You do.

"Play with your tits."

Your hands push up your top till your breasts are exposed, using a hand to grope the flesh, brushing your fingers through your perked nipples. Groaning from pleasure, it arouses Rafe further, his fingers penetrating deeper and faster into your cunt, while his mouth returns to your clit.

"Oh, god," you moan, chest rising and falling in rapid succession as your pleasure crescendos through your body. Your legs attempt to squeeze close from the sensitivity, to push Rafe out, but with one strong arm, he widens them instead. "Please don't stop."

Rafe doesn't respond but you can feel him grinning into your pussy, flattening his tongue across your slit as your core pulses around his digits. Nothing at this moment could be more perfect, the slow-burning building to your orgasm, the pleasure rippling through your veins.

Nothing can ruin it.

Until you hear your brother calling out your name.

"Shit," you swear, your heart rate spiking through the roof, and a hand slips between your thighs to push Rafe away. But he doesn't move. "Rafe—fuck," a clever roll of his tongue against your heat causes your mind to short-circuit, and you limp back onto the bed as Dean's voice grows louder.

Like he's outside your door.

"Rafe, please," you beg.

"Please what?" Rafe taunts, lifting his head from between your thighs, the lower half of his face dripping with your arousal, while his eyes gleamed that same mischief he had the other night. "Make you come? Or stop?"

You don't know what you want either, and it doesn't help that Rafe continues to stroke your cunt, his thumb rubbing your clit to make up for the absence of his hot mouth. Your legs twitch from the act, again, attempting to close around him, but he pushes them further apart.

Your door rattles. And Dean calls out your name again.

"Are you in there?" He asks, "are you okay?"

No, you want to rasp, but nothing comes out. Rafe grins devilishly, before lowering himself back onto your clit and sucks harder—quickening the arrival to your blinding climax.

"Rafe," you whisper roughly, your mind caught between two forces. The door continues to rattle as Dean tries to force the lock open, a protective trait of him needing to make sure you're okay, while Rafe has you in the most compromising position.

With the worst person.

"Go out with me."

"What?"

You think you heard him wrong, that Rafe definitely isn't asking you out while he's between your legs. But you didn't. Rafe lifts his head and repeats the question once more. "Go out with me."

"I—"

"Come on," Rafe soothes, his fingers fastening their strokes, your walls clenching around him. "Go out with me. Or else, your big brother's gonna come in and see you mid-orgasm."

"W–What do you mean?"

"I know you don't want me to stop," Rafe taunts with a smirk, "And I know your brother probably got some way of getting that door to open. So, you got two choices: either accept my date and come, or your big brother is gonna see me between your legs."

"I—" Your breath shudders as Rafe's signet cool ring presses against your heat. "You're despicable."

"Yet I'm here," Rafe lowers himself back on your clit, sucking languidly as if you don't have a threatening force outside your door, seconds from being let in. Your heart piercing out of your chest. "Come on, princess, go out with me."

Your mind is caught in a tailspin. Half of you want to tell him to fuck off, that you can't believe Rafe is using your moment of weakness to coerce you into a date, but the other part is wrapped in the absolute pleasure of your onslaught orgasm. The white-searing hot power that's coursing down your spine.

"Fuck," you say breathily, eyes fluttering shut from the way Rafe suctions on your clit. "Fuck, fuck, okay, okay. I–I'll go out with you."

You don't see it, but Rafe is grinning between your thighs. He goes faster, harder, pushing you over the edge as you slap a hand over your mouth to muffle the loud moans leaving your lips.

And just in that moment, the locks disengages.

With whatever mental capacity you have left, you quickly shove Rafe onto the floor and throw your blanket over your body. Dean barges into the room, blinking out his drunken haze, while his eyes scans the space for any disruptions.

"Did you hear me?" He asks with a subtle slur, scanning your face to see you comfortable in bed. He doesn’t know what got you here. "I've been calling out to you."

Your heart is hammering, and you pray that Dean doesn't approach the bedframe or look on the floor to find any semblance of his enemy hiding out. Rafe, thankfully, doesn't make a sound—though, you’d imagine he's hiding behind a cocky smile at the situation he's in.

"I—" you don't know how to answer him, "I was listening to music. Sorry."

"Oh," Dean says, taking the excuse as acceptable. He glances back at the door. "Why was your door locked?"

"It—it's a party," you explain, surprised at how easy the lie is flying off your tongue. "I didn't want drunk people to stumble up here and have sex on my bed."

"Right, right, smart," Dean nods, and he turns back around. "Alright. I'm going back down. Sleep tight."

You hum back in response as Dean stumbles out of your room, and you finally feel like you can expel a breath. The moment the lock clicks, Rafe lets out a rich laugh, straightening himself into a sitting position as he turns his head and connects his gaze with yours.

"Nice lie."

"Fuck off."

"Can't, you promised me a date," Rafe grins cheekily, pulling himself to his feet while he holds out something in his hand. "I think this belongs to you."

Your panties.

You snatch it from him, heat flushing your face as you want to nothing more than to bury yourself into your sheets. Well, you technically already did. Regardless, Rafe takes one final look around the room, at you, before he says, "I'll text you." And before he leaves, he gives you a sharp look and a reminder, "And actually respond."

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