#any more and the belly size starts to get a little ridiculous to me

[boytumms]

a boy who keeps getting pregnant with more and more babies. every time he gets pregnant, it's higher order multiples than the last, and its getting to the point he cant handle it anymore, but he just keeps getting pregnant and has no one to blame but himself. hes not sure why this happens. one baby? no problem. twins? that was a surprise but sure! triplets? this is getting suspicious. quads? somethings up. quints? oh no. sextuplets? oh god no... right now he's crowning with his last octuplet, every baby he's had has been bigger than the one that came before it, so this one is happy to be stubborn and refuse to come out. he's not sure he wants them to either. bc he knows as soon as they are, he'll be knocked up again before he can think straight.

He's absolutely massive with eight huge babies squirming inside his overtaxed belly, already dreading his next pregnancy, which will be sixteen if the pattern continues. He's completely bedridden halfway through carrying eight babies, he doesn't even want to imagine how bad having sixteen will be, he's not even sure his body will be able to handle it...

[honey-tongued-devil]

i Beg you i mean BEG YOU to do more chubby person x jinx or vi or something BECAUSE IM LITERALLY FATTT and i love the hcs

DROP ANOTHER ONE AND MY LIFE IS YOURS 🙇🏽‍♀️

[Arcane preference] with a chubby s/o pt.2- cuddle time

The second request of the week. Honestly, as someone who isn't exactly slim, I write these headcanons for those who ask me but primarily for myself. Requests are open, as usual, I ask for your patience because English is not my first language. I'll leave you the link if you'd like to follow me on Bluesky (I'll be posting Arcane content there soon as well, i want to build a 'public' meanwhile).

| Tip jar |

Jayce:

- Starting with the fact that this man is built like a wardrobe, and his clothes are already pretty roomy, he’s started buying even bigger shirts just to make sure you can borrow them, they’ll be oversized on you, and you’ll be happy.

- So when you’re at home watching a movie or cuddling in bed, he strokes your belly with a smile, pretending to be surprised.

- “Is that my shirt?”

- This himbo, who handles a hammer that weighs as much as a horse, means no arguments when it comes to cuddles: you’re sitting in his lap.

- And when things get a bit heated, he’ll hoist you up with your knees on his shoulders, pressing you against the wall just to flex his strength and remind you that it’s absolutely no problem for him.

- After the dirty deeds, expect him to bring you something to eat (and especially drink) in bed, and don’t expect to be able to say no. 

Viktor:

- When you’re relaxing on the couch, it takes a moment to find a position that’s comfortable for both of you: usually, he sits upright with one leg stretched out, the other (his weaker one) draped over yours, and you either facing him or lying on your side with your head on his shoulder.

- The focus here isn’t on clothes, but blankets. They’re all queen-size, so the two of you can wrap yourselves up as comfortably as possible during cuddles without anyone getting cold.

- And when you stand up with one draped around you like a cape, he can’t help but chuckle and call you “Your Majesty.”

- As for clothes, you’d never think he’s clued in to your needs, but then you see the socks he buys for you both: to avoid any circulation issues, he only buys soft cotton and wool socks without elastic, so even at home, you always have cozy socks that match the season, like festive holiday ones.

- His secret move? Sliding his hands between your thighs when they’re cold, and playing with the little rolls there, pinching them when you’re cuddling.

- In your most intimate moments, he stops to kiss and nip at your thighs, leaving little constellations of marks that he traces over with his fingertips in the days that follow.

Ekko:

- Cuddle time is sacred.

- If he walks into the room and sees you sprawled comfortably on the bed waiting for him, a bomb alert goes off in his head: he shuts the door and runs to gather everything he might need.

- Water, snacks, extra blankets, anything he can think of.

- When he gets back and shuts the door behind him, he has a ridiculous grin on his face, warning you that he’s about to pounce with a playful growl, as if to show you just how much he wants to nibble you.

- Ekko is a huge fan of having your knees on his shoulders while you lie down, rubbing his cheek against your calf, and kissing it while you’re busy squirming.

- His favorite hobby? Getting his head caught between your thighs and becoming “deaf.”

- He’s always the big spoon because he has to protect you, hug you, and nestle his arms and hands into every soft spot.

- After any wild night, expect breakfast in bed and a hot bath waiting for you.

Vander:

- Zaun has a dreadful climate because the smog creates a thick layer of heat, but being underground and surrounded by cold materials, temperatures can drop sharply. So sometimes he shows up with a blanket, hands you a corner, and asks you to hold it for a moment.

- As soon as you take it, he calmly wraps it around you, picks you up, and carries you over to the fireplace, keeping you wrapped like a burrito on his lap while he enjoys his pipe for half an hour.

- Because of the cold, intimacy often happens right there in the living room, in front of the fire. Sometimes, he’ll give you the armchair and kneel in front of you, or you’ll both find yourselves on the rug.

- He’s a good lover, but don’t expect him to do much after expending all that energy at his age. On a good day, he’ll be a gentleman and carry you to bed; then it will your turn to cuddle and soothe him with gentle strokes as he enjoys them with his eyes closed.

- If it’s not a good day, he’ll pull the blanket over both of you and set the guard in front of the fire, resigning himself to the fact that you’ll be sleeping cuddled up either on the chair, the sofa, or even on the rug.

- In exchange, the next day, he’ll make it up to you with a long, hot bath and a massage.

Silco:

- This man has money, and he knows how to use it well.

- When the cold sets in Zaun, your bedroom becomes a place you’d never want to leave. Fur rugs are laid out on either side of the bed, soft, warm robes in matching colors appear in the closet, and if you want to stay in your den waiting for him while he works without freezing, you can even light the in-room fireplace.

- After he finishes his work, he washes up, dons his robe, and heads straight to bed, sometimes he doesn't even waiting, and begins going over his paperwork under the blankets while he absently strokes your shoulder or hair.

- If you complain enough, he’ll carefully gather up the papers, set them aside, and hover over you to kiss your neck and collarbones, sliding your robe aside so his lean, wiry body can press against yours.

- He’s incredibly gentle in everything he does, from how he touches to how he kisses or nibbles. Every movement makes you shiver, but he remains composed. Occasionally, between kisses, the cold tip of his nose brushes your skin, making you giggle; he then returns to your lips, asking for forgiveness before continuing his slow exploration.

- He’s the type for wine and a cozy dinner under the covers, a break for cuddles, and then back to work.

- If you protest that you’re eating too much, he’ll feed you himself—no time for nonsense (but always with a touch of tenderness).

Jinx:

- The most chaotic thing Jinx does is cross out or draw over posters that show people who are too skinny. They can’t make you insecure if you don’t see them, and any excuse for vandalism is a good one.

- With the cold setting in, her hideout transforms into a true nest: a heap of clothes and fabrics covered in blankets and throws to make everything softer and warmer.

- Jinx has cold feet, but it’s not her problem—it’s yours. She’ll press them against your stomach, your back, and if you react, it’ll only get worse.

- She’ll start laughing, and it’ll become personal. The only way to fight back is with tickling, but that would be a declaration of war.

- When you both finally calm down, she’ll wrap herself around you, clinging with her whole body, inhaling your scent deeply, and digging her fingers into your side.

- Don’t expect too much delicacy in intimate moments; if she needs you to move, she’ll grab and pull you into whatever position is most comfortable for her. She holds your legs up, and handles you like you’re her personal doll.

- For her, this is princess treatment; and the effort she’s putting in is what counts.

Vi:

- She buries her face in your chest, first and foremost. Feeling sad? Face in your chest. Happy? Face in your chest. Deep in thought? You guessed it—face in your chest.

- Her go-to stress reliever is squeezing your thighs and hips.

- During cuddles, she rests your head on her shoulder, strokes your back, kisses your forehead, and speaks softly.

- She always plays with your hair, and if it’s long enough, you’ll find small braids everywhere.

- When you’re cuddling in bed, she’ll either hold you close or be the little spoon herself, with one hand in yours and fingers intertwined.

- When things get more intimate, she becomes completely dependent on you, pressing her fingers so deeply into your skin that they leave marks, as if even that isn’t enough and she wants to be inside you, to reach into your very core.

- She never imposes anything; if you don’t feel like washing up, she’ll clean you up with a warm cloth, and if you don’t feel like getting up, she’ll carry you. Whatever you want, she’ll go along with it unconditionally.

- Occasionally, she’ll climb over you, propping herself on her arms, just to steal a flurry of kisses.

Caitlyn:

- Caitlyn can cook, and she will.

- Her way of cuddling starts at the table, with an evening set up like a royal banquet. Anything you like will be there, along with sweet and savory snacks, which, if there are leftovers, she’ll take to the coffee table or the bedroom so you can enjoy them later.

- There’s no rush; if you want to go for a walk or relax after eating, it’s fine by her—she just wants to be with you. She might ask a housekeeper for a bit of help, or she’ll clean up on her own while you get ready.

- If you lie down in bed, she’ll absolutely take the chance to gently knead your stomach like a cat, making you laugh but also helping you fall asleep rather quickly.

- She’s the ultimate big spoon, nestling her face into the crook of your neck and holding you tightly.

- When things get more intimate, she loves to look you in the eyes while she touches you, so she can savor every reaction, every shiver, watching your body melt with every move she makes.

- She becomes mesmerized by the way your body ripples under her touch, like there’s an ocean beneath your skin.

Mel:

- The real issue with Mel is that the rich never have anything better to do, so morning, noon, and night, they’re constantly organizing events. Breakfast at a noble’s home, brunch with the councilors, and of course, everyone must dine together. Tea at five with the Kirammans is absolutely sacred, and dinner is a moment for sharing ideas.

- Intimacy is this strange, almost absurd thing, as though everything is designed to give you no second of solitude.

- But when she does find a moment, she sits down and signals you to come into her lap or rest against her, cuddling you, playing with your earlobes, and winding her fingers through your hair until your eyes cross.

- She prefers giving affection to receiving it, simply because it feels like the only way she truly knows how to show love.

- Only in the deepest intimacy does she allow herself to do less, to enjoy your presence lying with her, to let go of control.

- She adores the way your body moves artistically, like it follows lines painted in oil, and these are the few moments where she can fully admire you.

- She’s quite strict afterward. You must drink those two glasses of water, and as you get up, she’ll call for someone to change the sheets and make the bed, so by the time you’re done showering, everything is ready and perfect.

Sevika:

- Bluntly put? She works with the chem barons, who are mostly old, misogynistic men with monocles embedded in their skulls, grotesquely altered rats with spider-like mechanical limbs, a very interesting gang of women in latex with disturbing port attachments, people with mechanical noses that pump in toxic stuff directly, and other highly modified, not-so-pleasant characters.

- I mean, sure, you have every right to feel insecure, but when she tells you you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to her, she’s being quite literal.

- Her delight in the fact that not only are you entirely flesh and blood but actually soft flesh is beyond words—she feels like she’s hit the jackpot with a premium relationship.

- There’s hardly a moment when she’s not touching you, holding your arms or cheeks in her hands, or kissing your skin.

- During cuddles, she prefers you on top of her, and if she’s calm and has enough time, she’ll even remove her arm.

- It’s a controversial choice, but she doesn’t want to be around you while wearing a weapon, and she doesn’t want you to see her the way she sees the chem barons. It’s almost a moral decision on her part.

- In bed, she can hold you easily with just one arm; she’s strong, it’s not an issue for her. But first and foremost, she wants to lie down with you, feel your soft arms, your chest, your waist where she can let herself sink in, and when you laugh because she’s tickling you, she kisses you.

- For her, the hardest part isn’t functioning with one less limb but letting herself appear calm, not on the defensive, even vulnerable.

- But she doesn’t regret it for a single second.

[samofmine]

"Stop looking at me like that!" Sam says, high pitched and annoyed, but well, no. Dean very much can't stop looking at him like that.

(aka I couldn't stop thinking about this so here's a weecest with sam in a cropped top and the inner chaos it ensues on dean)

Like what, anyway? He just hopes he's not drooling.

Sam came home an hour ago. He insisted on going shopping for his own clothes, saying Dean never got his right size, the pants looked too baggy and the shirts too loose. Well, forgive him if he doesn't want Sam parading the shape of his body to everyone. He gets enough catcalls from creeps in gas stations and sideroad bars as it is.

But Dean can't really use that as an argument, so yes, go the fuck ahead and buy your own clothes if you're so self sufficient, he said, and oh how it bit him in the ass.

Sam's fashion preference happened to be a pair of ragged jeans, red converse sneakers, and a freaking cropped top. A white, loose cropped top, short enough he can see everything from under Sam's nipples to the curve of his hipbone, loose enough it reveals Sam's collarbones as he moves.

Sammy's stomach. The smooth, milky skin wrapping around his small waist. His hip bones. Hell, even his belly button. Dean feels dizzy.

It's not like Dean's never seen it before. He bathed the kid, changed his diapers, but it's all a distant memory now, since Sam's puberty hit and he started acting like such a girl, shy to even be in the same room as a shirtless Dean, and god forbid Dean ever needs to piss when he's in the shower, because he will be throwing a tantrum before he even gets to step inside the bathroom.

Whatever. It doesn't matter. It would take more than bitchy mood swings and annoying brattiness to make Sam any less endearing to Dean.

He's still his little brother. His baby. Dean's everything.

He's not saying he misses the closeness, the tangled limbs under bedsheets when it was too cold and lying too close together when they had to share a crappy motel fan during a heat wave. But now that all of that is in the past, he simply wasn't prepared to see so much of Sam.

He wants to put his hands on each side of his waist and see if they still fit perfectly.

He wants to brush his fingers under his belly button and see if he can still track the goosebumps running through his body by watching his skin from close enough.

He wants... He wants.

He won't do any of that, though, because he doesn't want to be yelled at and he definitely doesn't want to deal with a moody Sammy for the rest of the week.

So, he stares. Sam has to grant him at least that.

"Looks weird, I know it." Sam looks down, and Dean notices his hands are trying to cover his stomach. "Just stop staring. It's hot today."

Dean blinks. What. What?

"What?" He can't help it. "Why do you think I'm staring? D'you think I'm gonna make fun of you?"

"Well." Sam looks at him, all bitchy faced. "Why else?"

Dean wants to laugh. Or cry. This is ridiculous.

If I could take a picture of you like this and keep it next to my bed so it's the first thing I see everyday, I'd be doing it right now. Seriously. Just give me a camera.

Obviously he can't say any of that. So.

"Why don't you wear a skirt to complete the look?" He teases, but crap, that was not the right thing to say, not just because the image of Sam in a skirt crosses his mind and he feels faint from it, but because of Sam's pained expression as soon as he heard the words.

"You're a jerk." Sam says and lies down on his bed, his back to Dean. He pulls the covers on top of him as if he's trying to hide.

Dean moves before he can even rationalize it. "Sammy, c'mon." He says, sitting on the edge of Sam's bed. "I was joking."

"Leave me alone." He gets in response.

Dean takes a deep breath, tries to go through his mental Sammy manual to see if he has any way of fixing this.

Feels like nothing he can say or do will make any difference.

So, to hell with it.

"You look good." He says. If Sam's gonna be pissed at him anyway, let it be for his honesty instead of his bad jokes.

Sam tenses up under the blanket, Dean notices of course.

"You don't mean that." Sam's voice is smaller, vulnerable, tugging on Dean's heartstrings like nothing else does.

"Of course I..." He sighs in frustration. "Let me see you."

Sam turns to lie on his back just so he can look at Dean, confused. Well, at least he's looking at him.

Dean grabs the blanket and pulls it down.

"Stop! Give it back." Sam whines, pulling it back. He's so goddamn loud, for no reason.

Dean rolls his eyes and holds Sam's wrists to make him stop.

"Let me see you, Sammy." He says, in a way anyone else would think is an order, even their dad, but only Sam knows this is him pleading.

He lets go of Sam's wrists to put the blanket away. Sam lets him.

Dean takes a moment, takes in the sight.

Sam's hands are still shyly on top of his stomach, hiding it.

Dean swallows dry.

He slowly reaches and moves Sam's hand so he can touch him, fingers almost shaking from the excitement, and Sam's stomach clenches under his touch.

He looks up to meet Sam's eyes. He's looking at him, nervous and flushed and beautiful, and Dean wants to keep him to himself, wants to lock them inside this room and throw away the key or fucking swallow it, because no way in hell he's ever going to allow anyone else to see Sam like this.

"You look good." He repeats, not recognizing his own voice, it comes out strangled and pathetic and he has to take a deep breath.

"Thanks." Sam says softly, so damn soft, Dean doesn't think locking him in the room will be enough. He's gonna have to eat him.

He brushes his fingers lightly across Sam's stomach and he squirms, fucking squirms, laughing under him.

"Tickles." Sam whines.

And, well, if doing that will make Sammy lose the scowl, game on.

Dean starts to tickle his tummy, laughing along with Sam as he drinks in every movement.

"Stop!" Sam laughs, grabbing his hand.

The pause in their movements is too long and with their eyes locked Dean forgets to breathe.

"Well, do you believe me?" He says once he remembers, "Or should I say it again?"

"I believe you." Sam says, shyly.

"What was that? I didn't hear it." Dean leans down, closer to hear him better.

"Shut up, you heard me." Sam is still smiling.

"How come you're always avoiding me lately?" Maybe now is not the time to talk about this, he knows Sam's good mood is fragile and he shouldn't be tempting it, but. He has to know.

"I'm not. I just... Feel weird around you."

"Weird?" Dean asks, confused.

"I don't know. Shut up." Sam says, but he's still smiling, even though it's a more nervous smile. "Just... Weird. Like I always want more of it. Don't ask me to explain it, I just know I shouldn't feel this way. I just do, though."

Dean blinks at him, digesting.

"It's probably cause we spend most of the time in small rooms with not enough space even to have personal space."

Nerd, Dean thinks.

But such a cute fucking nerd. He has no idea what he's even talking about but at least Sam isn't tired of him or hates him. He just feels weird, and Dean can totally understand that.

"You're such a weirdo." He says, not holding back his smile. Sam laughs weakly and Dean feels high on it.

Maybe that's why he leans in and kisses his forehead.

He feels Sam freezing under him but it's been so long since he let him this close, so damn long, he can't stop.

He kisses the tip of his nose.

Sam holds his breath.

Dean kisses his chin.

"De?" Sam's voice is so small, Dean is going insane.

When he meets his eyes again he notices Sam isn't looking at him with confusion or annoyance like he expected.

He decides to push his luck.

"What? I can't kiss you, anymore, either?" He says, testing the waters. "When you were little you wouldn't go to sleep without a goodnight kiss from me, remember that?"

Sam groans in embarassment, but he's still smiling, cheeks tainted pink.

"I was a kid. 'M not a kid anymore."

"So I shouldn't kiss you then." Dean raises his eyebrows.

"Why would you even want to kiss me?" Sam says, not meeting his eyes.

Dean can't even register the question. Seriously.

"Have you looked at yourself?" He says. "How could I not?"

He travels his eyes down Sam's body, his stomach drawing his attention again.

He stares for a moment too long.

"You can." Sam says, almost a whisper.

Dean meets his eyes, not sure what he was talking about. Maybe he got distracted, sue him.

Sam notices and rolls his eyes.

"Kiss me, I mean." He explains shyly "Miss your goodnight kisses, too."

And Dean feels himself buzz with excitement, fingers going numb from wanting to reach and touch and hold and do everything at once.

He sighs in frustration and lets his head drop forward, resting his forehead against Sam's stomach.

"You'll be the death of me." He says against Sam's skin. He hopes it's a promise. Only death could free him from this longing. Maybe not even death.

And there they are. The goosebumps.

He smiles. He can't help but kiss him, right on top of his bellybuton. He takes his time, too, letting his lips brush against the skin, breathing in Sam's scent.

Sam is quiet but Dean can hear his breath getting heavier.

He continues.

He kisses every bit of skin he can reach, lips brushing across Sam's stomach from one kiss to the other, never wanting to break the contact.

"Feels weird." Sam lets out a choked sigh.

"Bad weird?" Dean asks, looking up at him.

"Just weird." Sam says. "Probably bad weird. But I like it."

Dean looks at him, words escaping him.

Sam smiles sweetly and cups his face with his hand.

"I like everything you make me feel, De. Even though I hate that I like it sometimes."

Dean leans back to get a better view of Sam's expression, wants to register it in his brain so he can remember it the next time Sam avoids him again.

"Same here, Sammy." He says, simply, because he has no idea how to put into words the relief he's feeling.

He looks at Sam's stomach, places his hands on each side of his waist. Rubs his thumb against his skin.

"Fits." He says, more to himself.

Sam's hand finds his face again, this time under his chin, making him look up.

They're really damn close to each other. Dean's eyes stop on Sam's lips.

Sam is leaning in. His hand move from his chin to hold Dean's shoulder, both hands, and he closes his eyes and he continues to lean in and Dean feels like everything is happening way too slowly but he could never rush this.

Sam kisses him. It's nothing but a peck, but it's enough to awake the monster that's been dorment inside Dean's soul all this time and he can't stop himself from pulling Sam towards him by the neck, to kiss him better, to kiss him harder, to feel his lips against his tongue.

Sam tries to follow Dean's rythm, letting out small whimpers that make Dean even more hungry.

He guides him so they both move on the bed and he sits him on his lap. Sam's arms immediately lock around his neck.

They kiss for so long Dean starts to feel lightheaded, but he still wants more, because it's Sammy, and Sammy is kissing him back and he wants everything Sam gives him and he almost wants more.

After too long but not even close to long enough Dean lies them down, but they continue to trade kisses until Sam falls asleep first, Dean's hands firm on his waist, keeping them close enough they share each breath. Dean decides this, right here, like this, is where they belong. He falls asleep with a smile on his face.

[creative-kny-fics]

My dude, I am on a mission to find more Lee!Gyokko content, but it seems I’m the only one to have made that a thing…

So if you could..

would you pretty..

PRETTY please make a TK fic of Lee!Gyokko with any ler?

I ask you because you’re one of the best TK writers I know 🥹🙏

Aaaaw, you're so sweet! Honestly, I don't consider myself a good writer, because I have different ways/methods of writing long stories, but it's nice that you think that about me. Sure, no problem! (stop creating art because you give me more ideas)

Gyokko's live reaction lol

First Fic:

Ler: Muichiro Tokito

Lee: Gyokko (UpperMoon 5)

Well well, let's start this, straight to the fight, Muichiro already had his new katana so now the fight was serious, at least like that in the anime.

'Now, prostrate yourself before my beauty!', he received no response.

Muichiro just stared at him, stunned when he started yelling at him, although he remained calm, saying that he had told him many minutes ago to shut up, and to finish...

'I'm not surprised by what you've done'.

He tried to hit, a single blow and that little boy would have turned into a pile of fish, fortunately he is not just any little boy, he is a hashira, so it was not that difficult for him to dodge that attack.

'What's happening? Are you going to hide in a tree? I thought trees were prohibited in the playground...'

'No, I just climbed up here so I wouldn't be around your disgusting smell, take a shower, don't you think you need it?'

Muichiro looked closely, for a demon, it was one of the strangest he had ever encountered, it was half fish and half human? Or what the hell was it?

Whatever it was, I noticed something about him, that was... A belly button...?

It was probably the most human thing he had, and he was curious, it was something strange, honestly.

'What's happening? Do you finally appreciate my true beauty?'

'You don't have any beauty, honestly, I'm just curious... And what is that?'

'That?! What are you implying?! I am a perfect creature! I have no imperfections! How dare you?! You're going to-!', as I said before, was probably the only human thing Gyokko had.

As soon as he touched what for Gyokko was an "imperfection", his figure changed from being a large, long snake to being something similar to a sea slug, in Muichiro's words.

'What happened to me...? No, this is inconceivable, what the hell is this?!', and yes, Gyokko had no idea what had happened to him.

He felt a chill, something that made him turn that way, and if it wasn't humiliating enough, he felt the hashira that he HAD TO KILL pick him up and look at him curiously, as if he were a dog or a baby.

'What? What happened to you? I don't see you as threatening anymore, huh, now you're so easy to crush...'

'GET ME DOWN YOU FUCKING BRAT, IF YOU DON'T GET ME DOWN I'LL TEAR YOUR ARM OFF!'

'Oh really? In that situation? With that size? I only did this and made you this size, will it be that if I do it again, you will shrink more and more until you just disappear?'

That was ridiculous, there was no way for that to happen, she just took it unnoticed, just that, this "humiliation" would not let him pass, but what do you think...

As soon as he wanted to regain his size, the same movement, the same feeling of before, but this time he had the impulse to use his tail to try to stop the boy's arm, was it strange for him? Definitely

'I understand what's going on, you're ticklish, who knew, your only weaknesses were supposed to be the nichirin katanas and the sun... I think I just discovered a new one, hah, how ironic...~'

'Yo-yohou're wrohohong...! I a-am... I am ahahaha... Pe-peheherfehehehect crehehahahat-tuhuhure...!'

'Whatever you say, you're not going to deny that at some point you were human and part of those sensations stayed with you, of course, if at some point you were human because you look like a fish...'

'Dahahahamn bra-brahahat!! I-I'll kihihill y-yohohou!!', I don't think so, at least not at the moment

Did you think it was bad? Na-ah, Muichiro was just playing with him, he was just putting his hands up his sides, he didn't even have to hold him up, his tail didn't leave his arm and if he did, he would fall, so, he wasn't running away or anything like that.

'Who knew... Heh, weren't you a powerful creature? Because I see that you are falling apart at a few small, light touches...'

'Fu-fuhuckihihing li-lihahahahar!!'

'Heh, what if I do this again?'

As I said, Muichiro was just playing with the demon, all he had to do was put his finger in its navel again for the grip on its tail and its desire to escape to increase.

Hah, Muichiro was having fun, it was kind of weird, but how many chances would a hashira have of defeating a demon just by doing this?

He may leave him if he accepts his defeat, he may not, everything will be in the hands of the hashira

Second Fic:

Ler: Douma (UpperMoon 2)

Lee: Gyokko (UpperMoon 5)

'But Muzan-Sama! I have something that will surely make you happy and closer to your dreams!'

'I care little. Do you think that shit can make me happy? Then take that information and leave once and for all with Hantengu to wherever you got that information, if I find out it's false, you're going to pay for it, get out of my sight!'

Nakime strummed her biwa and Muzan simply disappeared, leaving his "subordinate" on the ground, oh how bad, at least there was someone who cared about him, more or less.

'Dear Gyokko, why don't you share that information with me?'

'Eeeeh, I don't think that's a good idea...'

'Come on Gyokko, I want to know too! Share the information with...-!', tell you what happened?

Well, Akaza approached him, he was not willing to deal with his bullshit, the indication was clear that only Gyokko and Hantengu knew that information, so it irritated him that his higher rank was trying to find out, something that, for Akaza, he had no right.

'Has Muzan-Sama given you orders? He was clear, only Gyokko and Hantengu can know, why don't you go back to your stupid cult before I hit you again?!'

And yes, the scene continues with "normality", Kokushibo scolding Akaza for "slapping" his superior, Douma excusing Akaza, saying that it is his way of playing and so on, making the pink-haired demon more angry.

Kokushibo gave Akaza one last warning before leaving, which Akaza also did when Douma tried to speak to him again.

'Biwa woman, would you do me the favor of taking me and Hantengu to-! ACK!'

'Hey hey Gyokko, I haven't finished talking to you! Go ahead, I can be of great help to you!'

'Eeeeh, I think Akaza-Sama and Muzan-Sama were very clear...'

'Ooooh, do you want me to get the information out of you the hard way? It's fine with me!'

This was just a game for Douma, I think we all know that whatever the opportunity, he will tickle his partner, whether to annoy him or just because he's bored.

'Come on Gyokko, tell me the information! I promise not to tell anyone!'

'I CAHAHAN'T!! HAHANTEHENGU!! HEHELP MEHEHEHE!!'

'HEYIA! D-don't get me into that Gyokko!'

'It looks like you're alone... Come on, just tell me! I promise you won't even notice me! I just want to know!', and in some part, just bother him

Gyokko wasn't having a good time, why? I think we've already seen that Douma seems to have claws instead of nails, adding to the fact that he is a demon and that any damage that Gyokko did to him would simply regenerate, well, needless to say...

'Really? Are you going to continue being stubborn? Oh wow... I guess I'll continue then...'

'NOHOHOHO!! NA-NAKIHIMEHEHE!! GE-GET ME OHOHUT OF HEHEHEREEEE!!'

'Biwa woman, don't pay attention to him, he's fine!'

Nakime was already annoyed, so without listening to Douma, she ripped her biwa again and sent Gyokko and Hantengu in the direction

In turn, she gave another strum to send Douma back to his cult, finally peace and tranquility for her

Third fic:

Lee: Gyokko

Lers: Aizetsu, Sekido, Urogi and Karaku (Hantengu Clones)

'Remind me why...? AYIE! I-I UNDERSTAND...!', let's go back to what happened a little.

Gyokko and Hantengu were calmly, everything relaxed, everything calm, even if the demons did not need to rest, it was a moment of tranquility, at least for Gyokko

No idea why he would have suddenly looked for his partner to rub his head and belly, nor that he was a dog to be doing that, but, to each his own.

'Gyokko... Can I go now...?'

'No, did I tell you to stop? No, right? So continue', on top of that they help him, he treats him like that.

But well, although Hantengu is a fearful person, he was not someone with that much patience, so, after so much time and having to endure Gyokko's verbal abuse, he simply got fed up.

'What is that light...?'

Yes, well, it wasn't a situation where Hantengu was in danger as such but, someone had to stop Gyokko, so he simply let out his clones, who looked quite displeased with what was done by his "subordinate"

'Since when does a lower rank than us have the right to treat us badly, eh?'

'Someone should teach you manners, so you stop being a spoiled bitch who thinks can have everything on a silver platter.'

'I feel sorry for you, but I'll have to obey them, I'm sorry, Gyokko...', honestly, he wasn't sorry.

Gyokko was already in a nice position, so it wasn't difficult for them to have to immobilize him and so on, he was literally crying out for it.

'WHAHAT THE HEHEHELL?! WHE-WHERE IS HAHAHANTEHENGUHUHU?!'

'We, in a certain part, are Hantengu now you're screwed, I don't think you'll die from this, besides, you have more hands than us, not taking them out is your problem'

'IDIHOHOTS!!'

'Hah, insult all you want, but you're not safe from this...'

Anything worse? Nah well, first, his nails weren't that sharp but, if they were long enough to carry him into the story, added to the fact that Urogi has claws, literally, and has feathers, well, you can imagine.

[bellyprincess]

“You know, at first, I thought you wouldn’t be able to handle this.” I say, rubbing my hand against your taut skin as you coo and lean into me. “I mean, a 6’8 guy like me knocking up a 5’3 girl like you is one thing, but you’re having TRIPLETS. And the doctor says we shouldn’t expect any of them to be less than ten pounds.”

I hear you whimper as you’re reminded on just how big you feel. Your pendulous belly hangs off your frame as you sit on my lap on the bed, your lower curve hanging low and feeling oh so heavy with nearly 30 pounds of baby and fluid crammed in your overly tight womb.

“That being said…” I pause to crane my head down and kiss the back of your neck. “…you’re carrying them so well, babe.”

"Haahhh, that's what you get for doubting me. D'you really think I'd just give up cause I-oooo, cause I got a little big?" I leaned my head back into your chest, being reminded of not only how big I am but of just how big you are. The only difference is that you've always been that big, easily a foot and half taller than I am, but I've always been a stubborn and determined little thing. Even when you tried to tell me that your monstrous cock would split me apart, or that your baby wouldn't be easy to carry. My body was just as stubborn as I was and just to prove a point decided I wouldn't take simply one or two of your huge babies, but three.

Now, all three of our boys were nestled in my expanded womb and fought for space daily, but it only made me more determined. "Hell, I think they're already ten pounds. I wouldn't be surprised if your offspring don't come out fifteen pounds each. Would explain why these are so leaky, at least." I scoffed and slapped at my equally large chest sarcastically before moaning when the action made them leak onto my shirt.

I almost looked ridiculous with a belly the size of a storage tote and tits that each looked like a beach ball. But it was always your sweet words and your soft touch that made me feel ever increasingly sexy despite the baby factory I've become. Your huge hands always made any aches feel better, especially when you lifted my swollen middle with ease and more so when those hands started wandering to the pussy that lured you in to begin with. "Do you think so, darling? Mmm, maybe I need some reminding of just how well I carry your big babies inside of me~"

[wexhappyxfew]

the waiting game

(a/n): HELLO FRIENDS!!!!! how is everyone?!?!?! it has been a minute since i've been able to put writing out but! i finished my summer internship and took a vacay too and i'm back to do some more writing! :) i have one more prompt to put out that is taking me some time to rewrite/edit, but i wanted to start with putting out a piece for annie x brady for AGES AGO!!!! i wrote it maybe back in march/april and it never got posted so, i cleaned it up and wanted to put it out!! PLUS it features annie x brady being adorable beans and some cameos from other Silver Bullets members just being their normal, chaotic selves haha. so please enjoy that!!!! :D

Algeria was hot as fuck.

The belly of Silver Bullets could only provide so much shade as they waited for the 12th to show up.

Too hot inside the fort, too hot outside the fort, the strip of shade providing what it could, especially with the sun moving from east to west and the atmosphere simply being one thing - hot.

Annie lounged beneath the shaded nose of the plane, leg bent up with her other leg crossed over top, aviators over her eyes as she stared at the smoke from her cigarette, curling upwards towards the bright blue sky, half covered by the nose of the B-17. Her shorts were filled with sand, her tank top a size too big and equally covered in sand and parts of her skin were either dried out or burnt and peeling. A lot of the others were in a much similar or slightly worse state - sun burnt, sweating and coarse sand all over; anywhere you could think and it was there. Something kicked at her foot.

"Hey, you alive?" Annie looked up and found Francis there, aviators and that stupid hat Major Egan was also walking around wearing on his head.

"I am in fact living and breathing," Annie said, and then placed the cigarette on her lip, "you look ridiculous." Francis smirked and then came and settled down on the ground beside Annie and sighed.

"This was all his idea, if I must say," Francis said as Annie passed her the cigarette and she took a puff, "you know as they say, if you wanna look stupid, look stupid together." Annie snorted and glanced over towards Francis.

"So, any update?"

"None. Absolutely nothing. Oh, someone from Brady's crew is trying to train a goat to stand on its hind-legs. Otherwise, no, no news."

"Great." Annie said and glanced back towards the nose of Silver Bullets, her mind drifting briefly to that glance her and Brady had shared a few nights ago after landing, his eyes soft, his face worn with exhaustion, the slight smile on the corners of his cheeks, "Who the hell is training the goat?" Francis let out a snort and sighed, picking up a handful of sand and dropping it to the ground again.

"I don't know, I think one of their waist gunners," Francis said nonchalantly, "Brady's encouraging him. Either way, it was funny as hell trying to see those two trying to tame a goat. It was a treat, that's all I gotta say." Annie chuckled and took back the cigarette and blew out a puff. Her mind wandered - everyone was hot, a little moody, waiting for some fresh water, or a meal that wasn't hot as anything. The waiting game was only fun so many times before you were waiting to lead a horse to water where it wouldn't drink.

"We get water?"

"Yeah, some," Francis said, "I think Mari and Judy are helping Benny to pass some out. Want me to grab you some?"

"Nah, I can get it." Annie said and then slowly sat up, her head swimming a bit from the mixture of sweat and equally, heat exhaustion.

"No you're not," Francis said, "honey, you're burnt up like a fried pepper. Stay here." Annie pulled a face.

"It's just a little bit of sun-burn, I've had worse." Annie said and Francis shot her a look, even from behind the aviators, that told her to stay still.

"Don't start moving around, alright, I'll be back." Annie watched Francis leave, before lying back down on her back and staring up again at the nose of good ole Silver Bullets, before shutting her eyes. A few minutes of shut-eye might be worthwhile.

"Annie." Her eyes shot open and she found Brady standing there above her. Eyes widening rather dramatically, she flushed a bit and shifted.

"John, hey." she said, suddenly realizing her fetal-position-like posture there on the ground and blinked a few times before, slowly sitting up, head swimming and then getting to her feet, to which Brady placed a hand on her shoulder to steady her, which made her hiss, the sun-burn burning a bit from his warm hand.

"Oh, shit," Brady said, immediately removing his hand, "I just wanted to steady you-"

"No, no, thank you, it's okay. You're okay, thank you." Annie said as she glanced towards her shoulder, at the skin beginning to peel up, grimacing a bit as she looked towards him, "Sunburn that's all." Brady looked at her through his own aviators and she suddenly took him in there in front of her - shirtless - not exactly something she was complaining about or should even be thinking too deeply into.

It was hot. The sun was brutal, you basically wanted as little layers on as possible, and they all smelled generally, not too great. But Brady being shirtless was yeah….definitely a sight worth glancing at considering the circumstances where everything was simply draining.

She flushed deeper, and hoped it would pass off as heat exhaustion if anything as she watched Brady cross his arms, the evidently toned muscles of his arms extending far greater into her line of sight than she would've thought.

"You need me to get a bandage for it or something?" Brady asked her, "Some water to pour on it?" Annie stared at him and then wised-up and shook her head.

"It's alright, really, no worries," she said, and then cleared her throat, "how's it going? What's up?" Brady smiled and then shook his head.

"That's what I came to ask you, but now you have me considering scrounging bandages." he said, placing his hands on his hips, "Don't mind stepping up to the plate."

"Don't be telling that to Kennedy, she'll start a ball game in this heat and next thing you know we'll all be burnt." Annie said with a smirk and Brady chuckled at her words. She tilted her head to the side and considered his help - he was already standing in her presence, he didn't need to do much else.

"I'm fine really though, save the bandages. For a serious issue." she told him with a small smile and he shook his head.

"It could get worse." he told her, face falling to a pinch of worry that you had to see if you squinted, crossing his arms again - really nice arms, "C'mon, let me find something. Hey…..Stagliano!"

Paulina Stagliano, ever-the-presently-always-pissed person she was, sat under one of the wings of Silver Bullets sat up and lifted her aviators, her curly hair that was out of its usual braids, looking like it'd been just dumped in a bucket of water, sticking to her cheeks, glanced at him.

"What the hell do you possibly want me from me, sir!" she hollered, voice bouncing off the nearby metal of the plane.

"Bandages!" Brady called back, "For your pilot!"

"That was a little unneeded, John," Annie said, giving his shoulder a shove and he turned to her with that wide grin and shook his head, "really, the girls know I'm fine, that's what matters."

"You're their pilot. And also one of the 100ths, I'll look out for ya, alright?" Well, there was no use arguing anymore at this point. Paulina came hauling over with a few packs of bandages she kept at the radio station in the fort and smacked it into Brady's hands with a grumble.

"Why you always gotta say it like that? Because you know I'll come running, sir?" Paulina murmured crossing her arms.

"Because I know you like to carry extra things with ya - bobby pins, bottle caps, postcards and figured you also had bandages."

"Right." Paulina said and then deadpanned, "Sir, why the hell you need bandages."

"Not me," Brady said, "Bradshaw." Paulina looked to Annie and then smirked.

"Right, Mr. Chivalrous." Paulina said, "Lieutenant Brady, when did you become such a softy-schmuck." Brady gave her a look.

"Ask me again during business hours."

"News-flash, Lieutenant, we are on business hours." Brady glanced her way and Paulina raised a brow, "Just make sure you wrap the bandages real nicely, okay? No need getting infections in this hell hole. This is my pilot we're talking about." Paulina sighed and shook her head, squinting into the sun, "For Christ-sake." And with that, Paulina was wading back over to her spot on the ground. Brady turned to look back at Annie and found her looking after Paulina.

"You okay?"

"Yeah," Annie said quickly, "just….worried about some of the women. Like usual." Brady chuckled and then flicked through some of the bandages in his grasp.

"Well, you don't have to worry anymore at the minute. Let someone else worry about you for now." he said and she glanced at him, "You need help putting these on?" Annie stared, and then shook her head.

"Nah, I got it." she said and took the bandages, "Really, you didn't have to get these, I'll be fine-"

"Annie, if you say you'll be fine, one more damn time, I'm actually going to lose it." Francis said coming over with two canteens filled with water, "Lieutenant Brady, pleasure to see you here." Francis said glancing at him before looking back at Annie, "You gotta take care of yourself better. I can't be playing co-pilot and single-mother out here."

"I'm fine, Francis, really, I'll throw some bandages and water on to cool the burns down and we'll move on from this. It'll heal." Annie admonished and watched as Francis side-eyed, glancing at Brady before looking back at Annie.

"I will hand-apply those bandages on Annie I swear to-"

"I'll take care of it." Brady said calmly, cutting in and taking the bandages out of Annie's hands and one of the tins of water from Francis' grasp, "Go sit down for a bit, I'll help her out." Francis looked from Annie to Brady and then nodded.

"Alright, then." Francis said and then glanced at Brady and pointed a finger at him, "Wrap it tight, Brady, I don't wanna see exposed bits of sun-burn, okay?"

"Yes, ma'am." Brady said, snickering as Francis wandered away and lied down beside Bessie on the ground.

Brady turned to Annie and then poured water on his hands before opening up the bandages. Annie suddenly took in the fact it was the two of them; it always ended up being the two of them somehow - like back at base, when the night got long, and it was the last of the group at the bar; it was the two of them. The one night the group had gone out to look at the stars, sharing cigarettes, stories and drinks, the last of the group had simply been the two of them, a few glances that had Annie second-guessing a bit too much for her liking. It was always the two of them.

Annie caught a glance at his bare chest in the golden, honey sun again and looked away, her cheeks, if they weren't already burning from heat exhaustion or sunburn, flaming red.

"So, liking Algeria?" Annie asked him as he began to work. Brady chuckled and glanced up at her, overtop the Aviators and smirked.

"It's hot as anything, so….not my favorite, but…I'm not dying so, can't complain." Annie laughed.

"Got that right." Annie said quietly and she watched him smile as he gently placed the bandages on the sunburn and then continued to do the same until the majority of the sunburn was mostly covered, and then pressed down the edges before looking at her. He was standing so close to her, and she was sure she must've smelled like sweat, metal and blood and almost wished she was still lying on the ground, in fetal-position with Francis bugging her about the water.

"Handy-work, huh?" he said softly, "You need some water?"

"Thanks." she said as she took the canteen from him and took down some water, before pulling down the canteen and then looking at Brady, who was staring her down from her angle.

"I appreciate the concern over my sunburn," she said with a small smile as she screwed the canteen lid on, and Brady offered a quick smile, "but, your boys okay?"

"Yeah," Brady said, "Jacobs was trying to train a goat." Annie laughed.

"I heard."

"Francis?"

"Yeah." Annie said with a laugh, "So, how's that going?"

"Eh, could be going better," Brady said with a laugh, "funny though to watch a grown man chase around a goat with a piece of bread, trying to get the goat to stand on its hind legs." Annie laughed, before looking at him with a smile. That look, it made it her stomach twist.

"You managed to get any rest?" she asked him quietly; no one could really sleep it seemed just because of the circumstances, so when someone did, it was a small victory for the 100th it seemed altogether.

"A bit." Brady said, "Keep ending up with sand all up my nose when I get up though, you?"

"Here and there," Annie said, "it's why I was so surprised to see you, to be honest. I was half-asleep."

"Sorry 'bout that." Brady said quickly, with a grin and Annie laughed.

"It's fine, really, it's….it's nice to see you." she said and they fell quiet for a brief moment, Brady smiling at her with one of those closed-lipped grins he usually wore. Something seemed to shift between them. Brady took a small step closer and dropped his voice to the point only she could hear.

"Saw your plane take some hits flying out here….everyone okay?" Are you okay? His eyes begged the question.

"For the most part." Annie said managed quietly back, "I just think we're all glad to have made it. Thought at first we'd be going down somewhere over Italy - one of the engines….it's that stubborn third engine is always crapping out but…." Brady watched her, as the two fell quiet, the tension in the air between them overwhelming and suffocating. She couldn't help but take in a few shaky breaths, watching as he stared at her, their aviators suddenly the only thing between them it felt.

"Listen, Annie, I've been meaning to ask you-"

"Hey! Guys, it's the 12th!" Annie and Brady looked around the front of Silver Bullets, and there they were - the 12th. Coming in, like rolling thunder, dust kicking up all over the place in the far distance.

"Well, looks like we'll be heading home." Annie said, glancing over towards Brady with a small smile. The look on his face was hidden with something else she couldn't quite decipher, but instead he smiled and crossed his arms.

"Heading home." he echoed.

Heading home - wherever that seemed to be these days.

[toptierteaser]

The Fitness App

Chapter One: Coach Hermes

“Dude, I swear by it! Six months! That’s all it took to whip me into shape! Two years of Pandemic fat gone like that! Trust me, you won’t regret it!”

                Diego’s words rang in Dylan’s memory as he stared down at the little earpiece in his hand. It looked like a little white snake, curled up in his softened palm. This was his last opportunity to back out, to put the thing back in the box and return it to the software store. He could get back in shape on his own, couldn’t he? if he just committed to going to the gym four times a week, documenting his workouts, journaling his food habits…

                He looked up at his reflection in the mirror. A husk of the former man he used to be. Or rather, it looked more like the hottie-with-a-body from the past had been stuffed into a suit made of dough, which had only expanded over the course of the last three years. His face still retained his former “adorableness,” as the ladies and gays at the office put it. He still had the good looks as the fat had hardly affected his face.

                But the rest of his body…it was an entirely different story. Just the sight of himself, standing alone in his room, was enough to make him blush. Everything had filled out. Exposed in his underwear, he looked first at the thighs which pressed up against each other like rising bread. His love handles that now jutted up over his waistband. The tight briefs he had not bothered to replace were covered in the front by the gut that had just begun to descend—a major factor in his deciding to try out this new technology—covering the front of his crotch and the fabric was beginning to rip on the sides because of the size of his ass. His butt had always been big for a guy’s, but now it was absolutely ‘ridiculous,’ as his friend, Cody, had teased, grabbing one of his juicy cheeks and giving it a jiggle. And of course, his tits had grown ripe, bouncy, his arms thickened not by muscle, but by fat, and his neck was slowly starting to plump up as well, teasing just the hint of a double chin.

He knew no amount of working out, writing down his exercises, keeping track of his calories would get him any closer to the fit jock he was over three years ago. It was a tried and failed recipe for disaster that had only resulted in him ballooning even fatter every time. Of course, during the pandemic, he had simply sat on his ass like everyone else and stuffed his face until he couldn’t fit another bite…but what was his excuse for the last two years?

At the beginning of the pandemic, there was no risk of being asked to go back into the office. Who knew how long that would last? And so, Dylan had kept on growing, kept on eating. But after a few years of remote work, the company had finally started to crack down on working-from-home, requiring a slightly-to-surprisingly chubbier office to return.

On the dreaded day, Dylan, after a morning of wrestling himself into the loosest chino’s he could find and wriggling into the only button-down that would button over his tubby gut, had waddled himself back into the building. He was shocked, stunned, and dismayed to find that out of all the dozens of employees, he had put on the most weight in his time larding out at home. And his coworkers were equally-stunned to see his new status. No one, upon smiling at him and greeting his return, could seem to keep their eyes from falling to size up his sized-up belly. And a few even made comments; his rival, Luke, who only looked fitter, more muscular, going so far as to poke his tummy.

It was already a miserable day. One which resulted in Dylan trying his best to drown out the associated feelings by glutting out on the snacks he had brought back to stock his desk. But to make matters worse, as he stood there, a granola bar dangling out of his mouth, restacking the papers on his desk, he watched as Diego, suited with brand new pants, a shirt, and shiny new shoes, came strutting into the office, looking at least fifty pounds thinner than the last time Dylan had seen him.

Diego had already been a thick-bodied man. Chubby, even. He had been so even a year before the pandemic, when both he and Dylan had started. The desk job had caused him to fill out quite quickly and by the time everyone was sent home to work, his obtuse ass cheeks could barely even fit into his pants. It was, perhaps, a lucky break for Diego that he could now work from home, as Dylan could see the seams on his buttocks starting to become unraveled as his doughy coworker waddled out the door.

But the pandemic went on, and so Diego’s weight went up. Dylan could see the changes during the zoom meetings, as his flawless brown skin was stretched tighter over the young man’s plumping face. Once, even, Diego had to stand to plug his computer back in and Dylan could see his lower half, clad only in a t-shirt and the tightest sweats Dylan could imagine his office friend wearing, his gut jiggling as it “bwomped” out from beneath his shirt, smacking against the keyboard on the desk.

That’s why it was a surprise when, two years later, Diego came strutting into the office, looking thinner than when he had started. Luke had elbowed his way to the front of the cluster who had walked up to congratulate him, feeling Diego’s muscles, running a hand over his stomach to check for abs through the fabric. The whole sight made Dylan want to puke. Instead, he stuffed a muffin into his face and glowered until they were called into the conference room.

It was a tighter fit than Dylan could remember, as he wedged his widened ass between the armrests of the chair. By accident, he was right beside his friend, Cora, and Diego. They had always been on good terms, but Dylan could hardly stand to look at him.

“What’s wrong, man?” Diego had asked.

Dylan didn’t hesitate. “How the fuck did you lose all that?” he spat. It came out far more volatile than he intended.

Diego looked slightly dejected, throwing up his hands. “Just wanted to take care of myself, man.”

Dylan softened his tone. “Sorry…it’s just. You, of all people…”

Diego laughed. “Would it make you feel better if I said that you were part of the inspiration? That I wanted to look like you did…you know…before.” He laughed, elbowing Dylan in the chubby side. Dylan couldn’t help but smile.

Diego glanced around. Everyone was busy chatting and celebrating each others’ return. He lowered his voice. “There’s an app…and a device. It’s called the ‘Encour Rager!’” Dylan gave him a look. “Cheesy, I know. But hey!” He looked down at his own body.

“What does it do?” asked Dylan.

                “It’s an A.I. trainer. It encourages you to work on your goals.” Diego chuckled. “And man is it brutal! But it’s effective. Which, clearly you might want to consider,” he glanced at Dylan’s stomach. Dylan squirmed.

                “I might give it a try,” he said absently. Of course, he didn’t know how he felt about A.I., but like everyone, he used it almost daily in some way or another. But he had already tried so many apps; calorie trackers, workout calculators. None of it had helped.

                Diego leaned in closer. “Listen, dude. It’s not like anything else you’ve tried. It’s a commitment. I don’t recommend it lightly. But once you buy it and put it in, it stays in there. You don’t take it out again for a year! I mean, it’s as close to permanent as you can get!”

All that flashed through Dylan’s mind now as he looked at himself. A tubby version of the hottie he so badly wanted to be again.

A small chirping sound went off from the device in his hand. He looked down to see it glowing blue. It was fully-charged. Now was the moment of truth. He could back out now, if he wanted to. He gave his thickened body one last glance in the mirror, catching a glimpse of the pile of clothes he had set aside because he no longer fit into them.

He clicked the button on the side of the earpiece, raised it, and inserted it into his ear.

A pleasant tune filled his brain. And then, a voice. “Hello, Dylan.” It was deeper than he had imagined. Masculine. He envisioned an attractive, muscular jock. “I’m your Coach. You can call me Coach if you like, or by my name, Coach Hermes.” ‘Hermes,’ the god of games and sports.

“Hello,’’ said Dylan awkwardly.

“Hello, Coach,” corrected the device.

“Hello, Coach,” said Dylan, smiling.

“Much better!” said the device. “Now, you are aware of my function, are you not?”

“I am,” said Dylan. “Coach Hermes,” he added, grinning.

“Very good. Just to recap, I will act as your personal fitness trainer for the next twelve months, during which time, we are going to whip your body into the shape you most desire! My function is to optimize your fitness level to suit your needs and to best-satiate your personal self-image. During our first week together, we’ll be getting to know one another quite well, and I will be observing and commenting on your lifestyle; your eating habits, your exercise routine, things like sleep schedule, how much television you consume. Does that all make sense to you, Dylan?”

“Yes, Coach,” said Dylan. He was growing placid, as if the voice was lulling him into a trance.

“Excellent, Dylan. Now, as I will be observing, I will also be curating a program which I believe will best-benefit your body…money-back guaranteed, of course. The watch that accompanies my earpiece will allow me to monitor your heart rate, your breathing, and your responses to my words. The contact lens will allow me to see the world through your eyes and will give me a customized projection which is designed to motivate you towards your fitness goals. Please go ahead and place the watch on your wrist at this time.”

Dylan did as he was told, strapping the watch onto his chubby wrist. “My, that’s a tight squeeze, isn’t it?” said Coach Hermes.

“Uh, a bit…” mumbled Dylan.

“I am reading that your pulse has been elevated. Might I suggest you do some deep breathing to calm your nerves. There is no need to be anxious. None of this is permanent until you give me the final say-so.” Dylan took some deep breaths.

“Now,” said Hermes. “Please place the contact in your eye…so I can get a good look at you.”

Again, Dylan obeyed, dropping the contact in front of the mirror, and blinking as he adjusted it into place. It was the smoothest contact he had ever worn. He could barely tell it was there!

“Very good!” said the Coach. “Oh…what a handsome dude.” Dylan was looking at his own face.

“Thanks, Coach!” said Dylan, half-forgetting he was talking to a robot.

“You’re welcome, Dylan,” said the robot. “Now, if you wouldn’t mind standing back a bit, so I can see you. You did remember to wear the minimum amount of clothing so I can see your full person, did you not?”

“Yes, Coach,” said Dylan to both question and request.

“VERY good! I can tell we’re going to whip you into shape faster than you could ever have thought imaginable! Now, please step back.”

Dylan stepped back, still put off by the quivering of his stomach as he did so. Still disturbed by the increased rubbing of his thighs.

“Oh!” said Hermes in a shocked voice. “Oh, my! You have lost control, haven’t you…big boy?”

Dylan blushed. Why he would do so in front of a robot was beyond him. But it was embarrassing nonetheless.

“No matter,” said Coach Hermes. “We can work with this. Can’t we, thiccums?”

“Uh…yes…?” stammered Dylan, questioningly. ‘thiccums?’

“Yes…?” said Hermes.

“Yes, Coach.”

“That’s better, fatty.”

Dylan nearly fell over. Diego had warned him the words of the A.I. could be harsh. But it would all worth it, when he came strutting into the office in a new suit…right?

“Well, now that I’ve gotten a good look at you, chubbs, there’s only one thing left to do. Your wristwatch will take your thumbprint as your signature.” As the app said this, Dylan felt the watch buzz, illuminating on the screen. “If you are prepared to commit for the next year, please go ahead and place your thumbprint on the screen at this time.”

Dylan hesitated. Could he really handle being called things like ‘chubbs’ and ‘fatty until this time next year?

“Or, you may decline the offer and return the app. Your one-day trial is cost-free so long as the device is returned to the nearest software provider without damage.” The voice dropped to a whisper in Dylan’s ear. “But, do you really want to look like this for the rest of your life, porker? You know that you won’t be able to do this without me, right, fatboy? You know you need my guidance. That’s what I’m here for. To help you. I’m nothing like those other apps, where you can lie to them about eating a salad before you go binge on a carton of ice cream. I’m the real deal. I see everything. I feel everything. Like how out of breath you are, just standing there. Like how I can tell by your pulse that you’re embarrassed. But you don’t want to be embarrassed for the rest of your chubby life, do you? Go on, biggums…sign the contract.”

Dylan looked down at his watch again. He raised his thumb over the screen, letting it hover.

“Sign. It,” hissed the app.

He couldn’t do it alone.

“Yes, Coach,” he said. And then he pressed his thumbprint down and held it against the screen.

“Very good, fatboy,” said the A.I. in his ear. “Now, we can begin our training!”

[anony-man]

Chubformers extended drabble #1!

As a separate part of my drabble requests, I also offer the opportunity to lengthen any of my previously written drabbles into 2k fics for the small price of $5! If you’re interested, feel free to send me a DM. But that out of the way, here’s a drabble turned fic based off of the request for Cliffjumper!

Original drabble: #41 for Cliffjumper (G1)

Word count: 2,013

Cliffjumper had always prided himself on his dedication to slowing the Decepticons down in whatever ways he could. Without the Decepticons lingering on Earth, steps to heading back home could be made! It was easier said than done, however, and recently, Cliffjumper had run into quite a few hurdles.

Earth was... different. He didn't much care for the unique flora and fauna like some of his fellow 'bots, but Cliffjumper managed. He didn't have much of a choice, after all. Few of their teammates remained, however, and though he did his best to adapt to what he hoped was a temporary way of life, things tended to get a little stale after a while.

When there wasn't action to be had (and said action was mainly putting an end to any Decepticon activity, since... well, that was what they were there for), Cliffjumper found life on earth rather dull. Little remained of their traditions and history, and in a way, it was almost isolating. He pulled his weight here and there, but when push came to shove, Cliffjumper was forced to make his own entertainment.

Thus began the spiral of stress eating... and excitement eating, he supposed. Bored eating, too. Slag, whenever there was energon to be had, Cliffjumper was happy to indulge. It felt wrong at first, taking from the dwindling rations of their faction, but he reminded himself that a proper soldier was to remain well-fueled and well-rested at all times. The former wasn't an issue, of course, and before long, neither was the latter.

Cliffjumper's berth creaked under his weight as he shimmied himself closer to the edge, his movements impaired by his massive size. A hobby that relied on fuel to keep it up had quickly turned into a sort of coping mechanism, and though Cliffjumper hated to make things any worse, it was hard not to feed into the habits he'd created—literally and figuratively.

He was bigger now, nearly too big to make it much farther than the distance between his berth and the fuel pump that had been relocated to his quarters for easy access. The walk was agonizing, but the rewards were so, so worth it.

Using the cane Wheeljack had designed for him after a recent increase in his mass, Cliffjumper slowly wobbled his way towards the pump. It was a long, arduous process, and by the time he'd reached the machine, he was already feeling out of breath.

The first cube of the day was always the sweetest, he’d say. Cliffjumper was quick to fill up an empty glass and drain it in one go before filling it up again, the struggle of sleeping soundly through the night having left him feeling famished. His legs creaked beneath him as he leaned against the machine, frame strained and shaking from the weight of his gut.

“Just… one more glass,” he reasoned aloud, puffing and panting between the words.

He needed to hobble back to his berth before he ended up on the floor, for Primus’ sake. It would make quite the distress call to whoever was in the area, a frantic cry for help over the comms that ended in him awkwardly explaining away how he’d gotten himself stuck in the most ridiculous way. It’d happened before, and it would happen again, but he needed the extra fuel.

A berthside snack was always useful. Cliffjumper wasn’t about to make another trip across the room any time soon, after all, and he wanted something on hand for when his belly started getting noisy.

With one servo bracing himself up against the machine and the other setting the cube beneath the pump before reaching for the latch, Cliffjumper struggled to stay standing long enough to pour his third glass. Stubby limbs were fat and swollen over his pedes, strained by the pressure of carrying so much weight around. The fat of his arms jiggled as he gave the latch a tug, a grunt of effort accompanying his attempts.

He listened patiently for the sound of fuel filling his cube, but there was nothing. No gushing, no hiss, no dribble. Cliffjumper huffed and steadied himself against the machine before grabbing ahold of the latch and tugging it down with both servos, arms still jiggling and frame still trembling with the effort.

Still nothing.

“What…” Cliffjumper said, risking a sidelong glance over to the front of the machine.

There was nothing more than a small puddle of energon at the bottom of the cube, a teasing show of his failed attempts to do something as simple as fill up his container with another round of fuel.

“Come on,” he whined into his arms as he slumped forward against the side of the machine.

He had only been standing for a few minutes, but he was already feeling exhausted. The pressure of putting so much weight on his pedes left him feeling shaky and sore, and he was desperate for relief. However, he was also desperate for fuel.

Cliffjumper closed his optics and panted into his arms, struggling to think past the urge to sit his aft down on the floor and wait it out. He couldn’t get back up if he sat down, though—not at this size. Even so, he was tired and hungry, exhausted by the agonizing trek over to the pump.

He could call Wheeljack over, he supposed. But no, that wasn’t doable. Wheeljack had already come to assist him over three times in the past month, and Cliffjumper wasn’t keen on there being a fourth.

He supposed he could waddle back to the berth and wait things out, but the pump he’d received was manual. If he didn’t fill it, he wouldn’t have energon to drink.

Why was this so difficult? The answer was obvious—he would have to go out to the lounge like the rest of his teammates and get his fuel there. No matter the impossible journey down the hall or the fact that he’d have to do it all over again. If he wanted more energon, he would simply have to get up off his aft and go get some.

Cliffjumper steadied himself against the cane and used the machine for leverage, careful not to topple himself over as he stood up straight. Each step away from the support was hobbled and slow, and the panic of teetering one way or another came and went with every rocking sway of his hanging belly.

He could do this. He just needed to make it to the door, then to the hall, then to the lounge. There were chairs galore, fuel pumps for his convenience, and maybe even Wheeljack for support. He could do this… he just needed to get out of the room.

Cliffjumper was huffing and wheezing by the time he’d reached the door. The cane trembled under his servo as he braced himself against it, desperate for the extra support as he punched in the door code and stumbled into the hall.

The halls were fairly empty, to his relief, and the only stares Cliffjumper received as he hobbled his way towards the lounge were worried glances and bots who stopped to watch him go by. His condition was known by most the base at that point, as he’d gotten rather popular after the incident in Ratchet’s medibay during a routine checkup.

“Wasn’t my fault their tables were due for maintenance,” Cliffjumper mumbled to himself, breathless and wheezing. “Just… hoof. Just sped up the process a bit, that’s all.”

Who knew a minibot could weigh enough to break a medical-grade exam table was exactly what Ratchet had said after the initial shock wore off. If you asked Cliffjumper, that just meant whoever initially designed the machinery wasn’t paying enough attention in their safety courses.

The lights of the lounge filtered through the cracks of the doorway, illuminating the entrance like his own personal haven calling him home. Even after the exhaustion of making it that far, Cliffjumper found the strength in himself to hobble that much faster. He was desperate to break through those swinging doors and sit his fat aft down on the couch with a nice hefty serving of energon.

Maybe, if it was served this early in the morning, he’d indulge in a glass of bubbly engex to go alongside his morning’s refueling. He needed all the help he could get to fuel his trip back to the berthroom.

Nearly the entire room had grown silent as Cliffjumper walked through the doors, the click of his cane against the tile and his heavy vents puffing out hot air the only audible sound amongst the typically bustling crowds. Cliffjumper paid them no mind, focused only on making it to a seat before his shaky legs gave out on him.

“Mornin’, Cliff,” he heard a bot to his left say. “Glad to see you joining us for breakfast!”

Cliffjumper tried to respond, but the only sound he could make past the huffing and panting was a long, weary groan. He held a servo up to stop the group of bots from jumping into a panic as he slumped into the nearest chair.

“Just… just give me—give me a second,” the minibot wheezed as he propped his cane against the table and leaned back in his chair. “I need to… I need to catch my breath.”

He was no Optimus, but his arrival had seemed to cause quite the stir. Autobots around him hesitantly returned to their companions and prior conversations as Cliffjumper struggled not to wheeze aloud.

He was far too big to be doing this again anytime soon, that was for sure.

“Next time I run low on energon,” Cliffjumper grumbled to himself, finally managing to speak past the panting breaths, “I’m calling someone in to help me fill it back up.”

“Should’ve called someone in the first place,” that familiar voice said, and Cliffjumper had to crane his helm to see Ratchet standing by his side, holding out a glass of energon. “You know what I said about leaving your room without assistance.”

“The cane works fine,” Cliffjumper quickly said, happy to take the cube from Ratchet’s servos. “I wasn’t going far.”

Never mind the fact that he nearly didn’t make it there in the first place. Cliffjumper sighed in relief before guzzling the fuel down, his free servo rubbing circles into his belly as he drank. It was the refreshing reward he needed after an arduous journey, and nothing felt better than finally sitting down to rest his achy frame with a rich, cool cube of fuel.

“Right,” the medic said with a roll of his optics. He snatched up the cube the moment Cliffjumper had finished, earning himself a startled hey! from the minibot.

“Sit tight while I go get you another refill,” Ratchet told him, giving the minibot a pat on the shoulder. “Primus knows what would happen if you tried to stand up on your own.”

“I’m perfectly capable of getting my own energon,” Cliffjumper huffed. “I walked all the way out here, didn’t I?”

Ratchet paused, already turning to leave for the dispenser. A small smile twitched against the corner of his lips as he glanced back at the indignant minibot.

“Sure did,” he said. “Maybe try focusing on fueling that energy into our next mission, huh?”

Oh, he most certainly would, because despite everything, Cliffjumper was no quitter. He could hardly move these days, let alone transform, but when the day came to put the Decepticons in their place, he would be ready. He’d walked all the way to the lounge, after all.

It might take him some more time to around to things these days, but Cliffjumper knew the filthy 'cons would rue the day they ever crossed paths with such a fearsome Autobot as himself. Nothing was out of his reach for long—not even a morning’s cube of energon.

“Just wait,” he muttered to himself, servos still rubbing soothing circles into his hungry belly. “This old frame will come in handy when they least expect it.”

[sterekchub]

Can you do one that focuses on derek with someone (Scott or stiles) and his weight gain is focused on his hips, thighs, and butt. So he just has a really feminine shape. And I don’t mind if he acts kinda feminine too😉 but that’s up to you. Thank you!! This would mean the world to me cause I’m home all week with a concussion 🤕. This would make my day!

I’m sorry this is so- so late. But I really like soft Derek. Who acts all tough as an Alpha but Stiles know he just wants to give it all up and be cared for. Maybe Stiles talks Derek into giving it up- let Scott be Alpha and he and Derek should go buy a little cottage somewhere where Derek doesn’t need to always be near death.

Stiles gets them everything Derek refused to get himself. The ridiculous teddy bear, the comfortable sheets with way too many pillows that don’t match, the fluffy slippers, the pictures of themselves and the pack all over the walls.

And Stiles cooks. A lot. Makes sure there’s always desserts hanging around, gets the really expensive coffee machine to make Derek his favorite calorie-bomb sugary coffees. Has a cabinet just dedicated to Derek’s sweet tooth and junk food cravings. He makes meals that are so good Derek knows he’s overeating but just doesn’t care.

And Stiles- he would go stir crazy not working. So he goes to work everyday and Derek is content to clean the house and work in their garden and go and buy the increasingly long grocery list…isn’t nearly as good of a cook as Stiles, but he watches videos to try (and if it doesn’t work out he still eats the evidence)

So naturally it doesn’t take long at all before Derek begins to pile on a lot of weight. At first he gets a little bit thicker all over, abs disappearing behind a pudgy belly…and then the weight all goes to his lower half.

Derek definitely gets insecure about it at first, feels like it’s a more feminine way to gain, but Stiles makes a few…”crush me with those thighs and sit on my face”’comments and spends his evenings sitting in Derek’s widening lap spoon feeding him the entire trifle he spend a day making, and Derek feels better about it.

Starts to feel like a pampered house-cat. They spend all of their free time together, and whether it’s board games or watching a movie or just reading in bed together- Stiles is always feeding him. Derek’s never been big for displays of affection but somehow this he’s okay with. Like Stiles handing him over a a fifth slice of pie or them going out to eat and Stiles ordered extra fries because he knows Derek will want some…that’s more meaningful to him than hand holding or anything else.

His growing thighs and ass make jeans a nightmare- too much work to pull them over his thighs and beach ball sized ass cheek, and then they don’t button over his softer middle anyway. So he starts wearing sweatpants all the time or fuzzy pajamas pants because they’re soft and comfortable and Stiles doesn’t seem to mind.

They start upgrading the house when Derek starts approaching “ass the size of beans bags and hips wider than he is tall”. Make sure all the chairs in the house are armless or wide enough so Derek doesn’t get stuck. Start thinking about expanding the bathtub to a super-sized spa.

Stiles getting silk underwear that fits Derek and his door blocking hips, because Derek needs more nice, soft things.

Derek waddling next to Stiles, who always slows his pace so his massive boyfriend can stay by his side. Makes sure Derek’s thighs are lotioned before they leave the house anywhere because that amount of friction could start a fire with all that chub rubbing together. Always calls ahead to make sure there’s a booth sized seat for Derek- does everything he can to make Derek comfortable and he just…can’t imagine living life any other way.

[the-firebird69]

The little supplies up and they got everything the hell out of there and yeah that's when efficiency expert does they don't terrorize people that's what our son does a lot you're giving permission to any help to get the laws out and they saw the Chicago no Buffalo example when they did in Chicago he says he knows those people are tough and that's all he said no appreciate it and they did yes it's like helping out getting things going you need all that stuff that's what he's doing is it amazing day huge numbers of people are trying to think our son and said I think I overpaid my taxes and the guys in the way and they saw it too I got something big coming too big message huge message so they figured it out he's trying to block the computer they're all working and get more people and they see what they're doing they got information and then wham.... It was huge it's like a big huge splash of like John Candy doing a belly flop in a public pool. And my son said that last phrase and gross followed by Jason and all the Argonauts and full size. Sugar plop fairies. It was huge you can hear it all over the world we're going to go ahead and we're going to do this and now Tommy f says I have a spirit he's going to start a stupid crap. It's a huge huge huge movement to get people trained uniformed and to go there and now it's going to be wagons East but really it's going to be wagons Midwest or middle so they're all laughing because it's kind of a concept and it kept happening so they couldn't tell what it was and now they know it's an incredible day and tell me after you should never do that to one of us ever and these people are really upset with you do you want their stuff back in their house and the boat and the car is and whatever they lost and you're ridiculous to think that they won't go after you.

You're playing footage of the storm ian and it was horrible and we were frayed for our son we knew it wouldn't flood but he didn't. It dropped right before the storm and you tried to make the storm before it dropped and yeah people are stopping you other than Jason that was foreigners and Max us a little bit and finally got broke now I have to go after you that's too much this is ridiculous place has been devastated for almost 3 months finally they're cleaning out the canals. We started coming down doing stuff they got a little motivated and now they see it and they're very motivated they're doing the chores to clean the place up they're going to get some demo companies they're going to make everything clear and and clean and without obstruction and Tommy Allen and Jeff led the way in their people didn't follow that much and it was just really depressing and this is depressing they say and they're on it. Now there are some things you should know they figured out Australia has a huge tree and the molar trying to grab our son to bring him there and the clones are fighting them they want them in the Midwest and or Brazil so there's a couple contingents at odds but not much they have to have them all so we're seeing that the Mohawk are going to probably die and they'll be out of the way they locked the sophistication it's happening now tons of them are going to battle

There are about 3 million octillion from the east and south going to the Midwest in about 2 million octillion from the West and the South and they're about 10 million octillion coming from Mexico and going to Brazil in the middle about 20 million octillion morlock and it is a huge army and they're more that are coming out they're all going there

Thor Freya

[cicimunson]

Sweet Child of Mine Part 4

Series Summary: You’re Eddie’s former best best friend. The two of you drifted apart freshman year of high school and now you’re more enemies than anything else. Despite the hostility between the two of you, you still come around to help out with his eleven-month-old sister, Emma, who he and Wayne keep most of the time due to his father being in jail and his mother being an addict.

Also, I know Sweet Child O’ Mine didn’t come out until 1988, but the song is just so perfect for the story.

Characters: Eddie Munson x Female Reader, Wayne Munson, OC Emma Munson, Wendy Munson and Greg Thompson

Warnings: Eddie and the reader get into a huge argument (as usual), Eddie is sick and reader takes care of him.

Word Count: 2.k+

Part 1|Part 2|Part 3|Part 5|Part 6

Fuck. Fuck.

Eddie sprints through the house, hunting frantically for something clean to wear. He was already late for school and he was supposed to sell some kid a dime bag before the first bell.

"Eddie, it's almost nine a.m." Wayne chides him. "You were supposed to be at school an hour ago."

"I fell asleep before I set my alarm. I had a bad headache. And now I can't find any clean clothes."

"That's weird, Y/N did laundry last night while she was here."

Eddie checks the dryer, nothing. Where did she put my clothes?

Then he sees them. Sitting in the basket in front of the washer, untouched.

She didn't do my laundry? Why didn't she-

The words from your last conversation dawn on him.

I didn't ask you to do my laundry. You act like my girlfriend, it's weird.

He runs back to his room and digs around in his drawers, finding a white t-shirt that's about two sizes too small. He throws it on and sprints out the door, stopping to kiss Emma on the cheek on the way out.

Emma immediately starts fussing as he leaves. Wayne picks her up, patting her back.

"He'll be home before you know it, sweet girl, and then I can get some sleep.”

__________

You stroll into the cafeteria, adjusting your ponytail as you sit down. Your friends greet you, talking excitedly about a party coming up the next weekend.

You're halfway through your sandwich when Eddie walks in. You almost choke as you take in his skin-tight t-shirt, so small on him it looks like a crop top. Even with his jacket and vest on, you can see the lower half of his stomach and his happy trail that disappears into his dark jeans. Your mouth goes dry as your gaze lingers on his belly.

He makes eye contact, points at his shirt, and flips you a bird. You grin mischievously.

"Flirting with the freak?" Greg asks, slinging an arm over your shoulder.

"Don't be ridiculous. I played a little prank on him, that's all."

"That's my girl."

You push his arm off you. "Just because we hung out this weekend doesn't mean we're back together."

His eyes narrow. "Come on, baby. We're perfect for each other. You can't let one indiscretion-"

"Is that what we're calling it now? You getting balls deep in another girl is just a simple indiscretion?"

He grimaces. "You really need to stop hanging with that freak. Your language has gotten so vulgar. He's rubbing off on you."

"Why do you have to bring him up all the time? I told you, I work for his uncle. That's all."

"You two were friends before high school. And you know what they say, old habits die hard."

You roll your eyes and stand up, dumping the rest of your lunch in the trash.

Eddie sees you leaving and hurries after you. You yelp when his hand wraps around your elbow, tugging you into an empty classroom.

"If you're just gonna yell at me-"

"I should do more than that. Are you kidding me, Y/N? You could have at least told me you weren't gonna wash my clothes."

You cross your arms and glare at him. "You told me to stop doing shit for you. So I didn't do your laundry, I didn't tidy up your room, I'm sure you noticed Wayne's lunches are in the fridge, but I didn't make you any."

"You're such a bitch."

"Hey, I'm just doing what you said. You want someone to cook and clean for you? Start paying me. Or find a girlfriend.  Wayne pays me to care for Emma, not you."

"I swear I hate you sometimes."

"That's fine considering I hate you all the time."

You see a flicker of hurt in his eyes. He hides it quickly, standing up straight, squaring his shoulders.

"Forget it. I don't need you to do shit for me. I don't need anyone to do anything for me. I'm used to handling my shit myself." He starts coughing.

"You don't get to guilt trip me for doing what you told me to do! If you were ever nice Eddie, if you ever said thank you, just once-"

"Thank you for what? For what?" He yells, and you flinch. "Thank you for ruining our friendship? Thank you for becoming friends with the people that torment me? Thank you for abandoning me freshman year, when I needed you the most?"

You freeze. So that's what this is all about. That's what it's always been about.

"Eddie, I did not abandon you. My interests changed, yes, but I was here. I tried to be your friend. You pushed me away."

"You were gonna leave me behind!"

"I wouldn't have! I'm not like your mom, Eddie! I care about you!"

He flinches, taking a step back.

Shit. That came out wrong.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean that the way it sounded."

He laughs bitterly. "No, you're right. My mom doesn't give a shit about me. If my own mother doesn't care, why should you?"

"Please, I didn't mean it that way. I would never say that. I wouldn't-"

"You just did."

"I worded it wrong, Eddie, I just meant-"

"Don't. We both know what you meant."

"Eddie. Listen to me." You plead.

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a crumpled ten dollar bill, slapping it into your palm.

"I don't want your money, Eddie, that's not what this was about. I just wanted some appreciation."

"I'll be home late. So if you can have my clothes done by then, that would be great. Don't worry about tidying up my room or making my lunches, I can handle that on my own."

"Eddie." You start to reach out for him, forgetting yourself. He slaps your hand away, visibly recoiling.

"I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking." You apologize, take a few steps back from him. "I won't touch you."

He looks down at you with a pained expression. "Don't. Ever."

"I won't. I'm sorry. I just wanted you to listen to me."

The bell rings and Eddie steps around you, walking out the door and into the hall.

You blink back tears. You'd really fucked up this time. Any chance you and Eddie had of reconciling was done. He really hated you.

__________

You're sitting in Eddie's room, rocking Emma to sleep when you hear him come inside. You lay Emma in her crib and pat her bottom a few times.

You walk into the living room. Eddie is slumped on the couch, eyes closed.

"Emma's asleep. Your clothes are folded on your dresser. There's spaghetti in the fridge."

Eddie groans in response.

You sigh. If he's high or drunk you can't leave Emma alone with him.

"Eddie, take a shower. I'll make you some coffee. You need to sober up."

He shakes his head. "I'm not drunk."

His voice is raspy, crackling as he finishes his sentence.

"High, then, whatever. Come on, get up. I can't leave Emma with you when you're like this."

He lifts his head and you notice how flushed his cheeks are. He's shivering, you realize, as he tries to sit up.

"Eddie, are you okay?"

He coughs, taking a deep breath as he wheezes. "I'm fine."

"You aren't fine. You're obviously sick."

"Said I'm fine." He mumbles.

"Don't be stupid. I'm not leaving you to take care of Emma while you're ill. And I don't want Emma getting sick, either."

"S'not sick." He protests, but lets his head fall back on the couch.

Damn it.

You go into the bathroom and wet a washcloth with cold water, then come back into the living room and lay it over his forehead. He whimpers and tries to knock it off, but you shove his hands away.

"It's cold!" He groans. "So cold."

"You have a fever. We need to cool you down."

You hunt through the house and find some Tylenol and cold medicine. You get a glass of ice water and hurry back to his side.

"Eddie, sit up a little. I need you to take some medicine."

"S'not gonna. I hate it."

"Eddie, don't be a child. You need medicine to get well." You scold. "Now sit up!"

His eyes fly open when you raise your voice. He struggles to sit upright.

You shove two Tylenol in his mouth and hold the glass to his lips. "Swallow. Now."

He does as you say, furrowing his brows.

You measure out the cold medicine and make him swallow it. He gags at the taste.

"Do not throw up." You warn. "Swallow it down."

He scowls at you. "Mean."

"Yeah, well, you'll thank me when you feel better."

"S'will not."

"Yeah, you probably won't." You sigh.

He lays back and tugs the blanket off the back of the couch. You wrestle it away from him.

"Eddie, no, your fever is high. We gotta cool you down."

"I'm cold." He groans, trying to get the blanket back from you.

"You'll be even colder when your temp goes up. Listen to me, please."

He sighs.

You check on Emma, who's thankfully still sleeping peacefully, before rewetting the washcloth and putting it back on Eddie's forehead.

He whimpers but doesn't protest or open his eyes.

You sit on the floor beside the couch, watching him closely. A half hour goes by and he's still red-faced and groaning in his sleep.

You know you have to get some of his clothes off and cool him down. You just aren't sure how to do it without upsetting him.

"Eddie." You say softly. "Could you try to take your jacket off?"

He grunts.

"Eddie." You say louder. "Your temp isn't going down fast enough. We need to get some of these layers off you."

No response.

You sigh. You know he hates being touched and you don't want to violate that boundary. But at the same time you've got to get him cooled down.

You start by slipping his shoes off, then his socks. He mumbles but doesn't try to stop you.

You tug on his shoulders and his eyes shoot open.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." You whisper soothingly. "We just need to get this jacket off, okay? I'll stop touching you after we get you stripped down, I promise."

You manage to tug the jacket off without too much of a struggle.

Eddie catches your hand as you start to pull away. You stare down at him, surprised.

"Thank you." He murmurs.

So all I gotta do to get a little appreciation around here is get him sick? Wow.

You don't say that though. You squeeze his fingers, and offer him a warm smile. "You're welcome."

You sit back down on the floor. Eddie rolls on his side toward you.

"Emma-"

"I just checked her. She's fine. Get some sleep, I got you both."

He nods and drifts off.

You watch over him until his fever breaks. You wake him once more to give him more Tylenol, then let him rest.

Eventually you give in to your own fatigue and your head slumps back on the couch as you close your eyes.

That's where Wayne finds the two of you the next morning. He smiles to himself when he sees Eddie gripping your hand.

He checks on Emma before gently shaking your shoulder to wake you.

"Y/N, everything okay? Why are you asleep on the floor?"

You open your eyes. "Hey, Wayne. Eddie was sick last night."

"And you stayed over to take care of him?"

"Someone had to watch Emma, he was in no condition to." You explain. You’d never admit that you stayed for Eddie.

"And yet you're in here on the floor, instead of in the bedroom with Emma." He observes with a knowing smile.

You blush slightly. "I'm gonna go now that you're here. Will you make sure he drinks something every hour or so? And he needs more Tylenol around 9am."

"I will. Thank you for looking after him- I mean, after Emma."

You stand up and start coughing.

Motherfucker.

Tag List: @aedicn @sidthedollface2 @saramelaniemoon @zahra10999 @natasha84 @harrys-tittie @urallidjits @neewtmas @harrystylesandthegoobs @cancankiki

[oneofthosesimps]

Dance With The Devil

pairing: sukuna x fem!reader I nsfw

word count: 3286

summary: sukuna's wish is a new heir and you are the perfect vessel for it

warnings: mention of blood, rough sex, dirtytalk, breeding kink, hurt, angst, swearing, sub x dom, dumbification, size kink (like sukuna is a monster and you are small and petite), belly bulge, lactation/ milk kink (i guess)

authors note: sukuna is the perfect canidate to realise my really dark and deep fantasies, which is why he'll be around more often now (he's also SO hot omg)

all credits to the artist of this pic:

xquesess

-----

You let yourself fall against the big, strong body behind you. Your hot skin meets cold flesh and you close your eyes at the pleasure of the small cooling. You feel as if your body is on fire. No, as if the whole room is on fire.

"Eyes open, little human," his deep voice vibrates against your back and your eyelids flutter open instantly. You see his wide grin above you and you groan as his grip on your hips tightens and he holds you in place above him. You see the dark shadows his huge hands have left on your thighs and waist.

"I'm tired," you moan and rest your head on the back of your neck, closing your eyes again. The sun of the night has long since taken its place in the sky and casts its bright rays into the small room, bathing you and Sukuna in them. One of his hands grips your neck and straightens your head. Your eyes open again. "We are far from finished, so keep your eyes open," he murmurs against your ear, "If I have to ask you again, I will break your neck." A shiver runs down your spine and despite your heated body, goose bumps cover you. A little fear mixes into your bloodstream and makes your heart pump harder and stronger in your chest.

"And I would hate to do that. It's rare to find something like you". You moan loudly as his lips settle on your neck and he lets you sink lower on top of him. The sensation mingles with the pain of his teeth digging into your neck. His teeth break through the skin and you slightly wrinkle your face before he licks over the slightly bleeding area. You hear a soft murmur as his tongue collects a drop of blood and it disappears into his mouth.

"You think it's that easy to get you pregnant, little human?" His fat, monstrous cock bores painfully deep and you whimper. His grin widens even more and his teeth flash. You make a grimace as he shoves himself too deep inside you and touches your cervix, pressing against it. Your image blurs slightly and thick tears roll down your cheek. The hand around your neck loosens and he wipes them away, his nails scraping lightly over your soft skin.

"Don't cry, little one. You're doing so well. No being has lasted this long before," he murmurs as more tears come, which he wipes away, “They all cracked on me before I ripped their hearts out of their chests. But you are different, you don't make me bored.”

"You're so big," you moan and your legs begin to tremble as he lowers you all the way on top of him and your little cunt swallows his cock whole. Your insides tear and burn. You feel as if your soft walls are being overstretched by his hard length. "No, you're just far too tight and small."

The hand on your hip moves to your belly and caresses it. "Look at this: My cock just barely fits inside you". Your tired eyes catch your gaze in the mirror opposite you. Sukuna has set you down on your bed specifically so that you can watch yourself- so that you can watch him fuck your belly round. You look at your reflection in the mirror. Your small, petite body is sitting on Sukuna's lap, your legs glistening with wetness close to your core, hang splayed in the air over his knees, giving you a perfect view of your cunt and your head leaning just below his chest. It looks ridiculous. You look like a little doll compared to his gigantic body.

His white teeth and red-pink eyes sparkle at you as he wraps his strong arms around you. The moon from outside gives an even stronger contrast between light skin and deep black tattoos and his veins snake along his muscular body. There is a distinct, long bulge on your belly that starts above your cunt and ends just below your belly button. Your face looks up at him in shock and he laughs softly again, "Didn't I tell you?" His hand strokes the bulge and massages it, making you moan. "Doesn't it look good when I'm this deep inside you and your belly is bulging."

His hands go around your waist again and he starts to lift your body up. His cock pulls out of you, leaving him almost white, coating him in a mix of your juices and his. A loud moan comes deep from your body and your hands claw into his thighs. Your body is overwhelmed with exhaustion mixed with pleasure and pain - a diabolical one. Your cunt feels sore from the many times you have come and now his way too big cock doesn’t make it better.

"I can't take any more," you sigh, but Sukuna overhears your words, pressing himself back into you to the hilt.

"Yes, you can. You must, little human." At the stimulation inside you, your eyes turn and your body trembles slightly, "I will pump your cunt full again. This time, I will breed you."

His eyes fall on your face in the mirror. You look so beautiful in the moonlight. Your lips are slightly parted, your eyes slightly closed and there is a deep blush on your cheeks. His gaze travels over your small body in his hands, your nipples standing hard from you, the dark marks on your body, your slender waist that he can so easily break if he squeezes too hard. His eyes drop to where you are joined and a dark sound comes from his throat. "Look at how greedy your cunt is. And that's after you've come so many times today," he grins widely and digs his nails into your flesh, "You're lying, little one. You want more, don't you?" Sukuna changes the angle and presses against every sensitive spot inside you. Your back pushes through and you try to gasp for air and not pass out as he moves inside you with ease. His arms hold you close to him as he closes his eyes in pleasure and rests his head back.

He increases the speed and you whimper loudly, moaning his name. His head rises and his gaze falls on you again, "You want more of my juice. You want my babies." With hard thrusts he presses into you, over and over and you scream sinfully. Your nails pull at his skin, leaving deep marks.

"Too much, too much," you scream, tears running down your cheeks again. Your whole body feels sticky from your sweat, tears and his juice, some of which shimmers on you. Sukuna rams his lower body against you without even being out of breath. His endurance is incomparable. His strength is incomparable. He could and would do anything to you, if only you weren't so damn fragile. Your body is on fire, your nerves are tingling and your lower body is radiating a pleasantly warm feeling that cannot be put into words. It is getting stronger and stronger and you feel the need to help yourself with your own hands to come to an end. Your breath and voice become more panting, "I-I'm about to come."

"Silly little human, can't you hold back," he grins, ignoring your whimper and the shaking of your body in his arms. He continues to watch his fat cock disappear inside you, while you spill out and leave a wet spot on the floor. The knot in your stomach grows stronger until it finally loosens and you gasp, floating above it all. You're aware of Sukuna growling behind you as your walls pulse around him, making you tighter than ever. Nothing is as good as the orgasms he gives you, making you high. And as usual, you roar your heart out, preaching his name, before your wings leave you again and your weightless body hits the earth hard. This orgasm and the ones before are not as long and good as your first ones this night. Your pussy needs a rest and you need sleep, but you know you won't get it anytime soon. Your cries and pleas are music to Sukuna's ears and he wants to hear his name from your mouth again and again. You are hyper-sensitive and scream loudly as Sukuna continues and does not stop fucking you. The smacking of your cunt as it sucks his cock inside you mixes with your croaking voice as you wiggle back and forth in his arms, trying to escape his grip, which will always be in vain. Saliva runs down your chin and drips onto the floor.

"And another one," he murmurs in your ear as thick tears run down your cheeks again. "How many times do you think I'm going to make you come tonight?" He licks over the aorta at your neck as your cries slowly subside and fade back into whimpers.

"I can't take any more," you whisper weak.

"That's what you just said," he laughs, and his right hand drops between your legs, lightly caressing your swollen clit. You wiggle wildly back and forth and try to get his hand off you. The sensation is too much and you feel as if you are about to faint as you break apart in his arms. It hurts unpleasantly badly and you can't think straight. He continues stroking until your breathing becomes heavier again and you moan slightly again.

"You know what we're doing this for, don't you, little human?" You gasp for breath as his angle changes slightly again and he presses against your G-spot.

"Tell me, what are we doing this for?"

"I-I ... I ... c-can't..."

"You can't? Of course you can, try a little harder," he smirks and circles your clit harder, pressing against it and your walls twitch, tighten again and it feels like you're crushing him. He moans into your ear. Was there a better feeling than fucking his little human? Probably not. Fucking you silly and stupid was his favourite thing to do.

"Y-You want to ... make me ... pregnant."

"Right, I want to breed you. You are mylittle whore. I'll fill your hole over and over again until your belly is round and fat." You moan at his words.

"You will look so beautiful with my heir in your belly. I can't wait until your tits are dripping with milk in them," he murmurs against your neck, looking at you in the mirror. Your gaze meets his. "I'm going to milk them like your cunt is doing to my cock right now." His nail scrapes lightly across your clit and you explode, this time without warning. His laughter fills the room as you fall against him again and come down from another high.

"And you said you couldn't take any more." His body vibrates with more laughter and you close your eyes, much to his displeasure. He sighs and looks down at you, clearly seeing your exhaustion, while your breath changes and the wrinkles on your forehead smooth out. His thrusts stop and he licks his lips. His hand drops to your cheek and caresses it lightly. If his heart wasn't dead and cold, it would be doing a little leap right now.

Sukuna has long since ceased to understand the emotions felt by those around him; his time as a human was too long ago for that. But he sees in you how one behaves when one is in love, when one would do anything for someone, and he thinks he feels that for you, even if he cannot express or name it. No one has ever lived by his side for so long. Any other person would have been killed and replaced by him by now.

He lays you down on the bed behind him and examines your skin, which is covered with numerous wounds. His hand strokes your thigh, his nails scratch your body and he bends over you.

His eyes caress your face. Your hair is slightly sweaty on your forehead, the lashes of your closed eyes cast shadows on your cheeks and your full lips are red and swollen. His thumb strokes your cheekbone before his flat hand slaps lightly against your cheek. With a shock you wake up and look at him. He grins broadly, "You're lucky it's you, that's why I'm not breaking your bones. I’d think you were too bored and I wasn't challenging you enough." His left hand on your thigh wraps your leg around his waist and his cock pushes between the lips of your pussy, spreading them wide and he pushes into you again. You whimper under him and squirm slightly.

"Mmm, are you bored? Am I not fucking you enough?" You stare at him, startled, and shake your head before your back pushes through to him and you moan. He picks up his pace from a moment ago, burying himself inside you. His eyes rest hungrily on your tits, which jiggle up and down in front of him. He licks his lips before lowering his head and his mouth wraps around your left nipple. You moan louder as he sucks hard and his tongue plays around it. He looks up at you, "I'm so happy when they're heavy and full of milk. I'm going to suck on your tits and drink it. You will taste so good." You roll your eyes at his words, your hands reach into the sheet beneath you and you claw into it. He bites your nipple far too hard before releasing it with a plop. Your dry voice croaks more than you cry out and you pull at the sheet to get rid of your pain - unsuccessfully.

"Su-Sukuna...," you sigh loudly at his hand around your leg tightening. He holds his face right above yours and four eyes look at you, examine your reaction as he fucks you in the mattress. It's time for him to finish this round.

"I'm filling you now, little human," he murmurs and hot breath sprays around your already overheated face.

A deep thrust and he presses against your cervix again. Your lips open and your eyes turn back. He laughs softly, "You look so terribly stupid and pathetic. There's probably nothing left of your already small brain." Your head doesn't notice his words, you are far too drained. His laughter turns into a grin again. The hand around your leg loosens and he places his thumb on your clit.

Another deep thrust and your insides are on fire with pain. Your tongue drops out of your mouth. "You're not making it any better, little one. If you could see yourself now," he collects the saliva in his mouth and spits on your tongue. Some of it misses and runs down your chin, "You're no good for anything else. You are forever my breeding machine, producing baby after baby." He bares his teeth and stares at your face and you try to hold his gaze as moans escape you again and again. "You'll spend your whole life just waddling around, thick and round, while we hang on your tits like a calf on its mother's teats." His thumb on your clit starts rubbing it. The pressure is strong and you go crazy inside. Your whole body is screaming at you, begging you to come, but its speed is wisely chosen. You are drifting in a dilemma of coming and not coming and it is draining you to your soul. You are always just before it, but you do not cross the line.

Another deep thrust and he growls low and wicked. A knot forms in his stomach and he becomes even more brutal. He has to hold back or he'll fuck you bleeding. "And you know what? You're going to look so beautiful. I can't wait to fuck you like this when you're pregnant. I'll press another baby next to the other one." He bares his teeth again and his eyes blaze, his red eyes are like rubies. His right hand grips your neck and squeezes it shut. He forces you to look him right in the face and you blink, slight panic forming in your body and your milky eyes clear again.

"Tell me how much you want to be pumped full of my seed. Tell me who your god is, pathetic human." Your hands clasp his broad wrist and a wide grin settles over his face. How he loves to see you fear for your life. How he loves to see how much he has you in his grasp.

"Sukuna..." you whisper.

“Present again? Is there anything other than hot air in your head?” His nails on your neck are digging into it, drops of blood begin to run from some wounds. The sight was so beautiful. The power he has over you makes the blood run out of your body - how he would love to lick it away.

You grip his wrist tighter and your eyes wander back and forth between his, “Su-Sukuna, please…”

"What, please? Use your words." The red of his eyes are now only narrow rings. His pupils have exploded and he stares at you like a madman - as if you were his next victim.

Your croaky voice is now also muffled by the pressure on your neck. You feel as if you have forgotten how to speak. You try to clear your throat, but it doesn't work.

"Y-you are my God ... I live for you ... only you ...", his grin widens more, as you squeeze out the words and formulate a sentence with the greatest effort. "I worship you, only you. I love and adore you." His grip tightens even more and you feel as if your eyes are going to pop out of your head. The blood rushes in your ears, you see single dark stars in front of your eyes, while he rocks your body. Your nails dig into his skin and you try with all your might to draw air into your lungs. Please do not kill me.

"I-I love you so much … I will give you as many heirs as you want … Only please... S-Sukuna...," you croak, and he groans loudly. Tears form in your eyes as his hand does not loosen. Your neck hurts from the wounds and the pressure. You stare at him in fear and beg him inwardly to spare your life. In a millisecond his gaze changes again while he looks at you and his hand loosens. He presses painfully against your clit. Life flows back into your body and mixes with the feeling between your legs, taking you over the edge, your weak body exploding again.

Another thrust, deep and hard, and he comes, his cock pumping his balls empty, filling you to the top. He moans loudly, murmurs your name and puts his hands behind his head, “Fuck, one day, I will break you and you will love it.” As usual, his juice is far too much and immediately runs out the sides before he has even finished coming. You feel his cock twitching inside you as your eyes fall shut and your body relaxes completely.

Sukuna looks down at you, eyeing his work - he is quite pleased with himself. He looks at your connection and mourns the seeds that have flowed out of you. Staying buried in you so that the rest stays stuffed inside you his soft voice echoes through the room but you no longer hear it, "A short break for you before we start again, little love."

[ladyreapermc]

Fic: Closing Time (Johnny Utah x fem!reader)

Summary: You work at a clothing store, you get a last minute customer at closing time and sexy tims happen.

Pairing: Johnny Utah x fem!reader

Author’s Notes: So I’m slowly getting back to writing. I’m not gonna say I’m fully back just yet, but for this week at least, there will be content! Huge thanks to @toomanystoriessolittletime and @meetmeinthematinee​ for being cheerleaders and giving me early feedback on this! 

Wordcount: 3125

Warnings: smut. oral sex (F! receiving); dirty talk; unprotected sex with strangers (don’t do this kids!); sex in inappropriate places.

Most days you quite enjoyed it when there was barely any movement at the store. It gave you the opportunity of just being by yourself, reading a book, or enjoying some music or studying for college, things that you didn’t always have the privacy of doing at your dorm because your roommate seemed to always be around. Even during the summer and what was up with that? Didn’t she have better things to do?

She wasn’t like you, who actually had to work to put yourself through college and took some extra jobs during the summer so you could have some savings for the following term when all you managed to get were part-time jobs that you had fit in between classes and paid shit.

Fortunately, at the shop, you had some peace and time for yourself. It was a tiny, hole-in-the-wall sort of place around Venice Beach where tourists could get some shirts and other knickknacks to take back home and locals surfers could find cheap clothing and supplies for a day out on the beach. Most days, you worked from 9-5 and after your shift, you could head to the beach, spread your towel on the sand and enjoy the gorgeous Californian sunset. However, as the summer winded out and the fall winds blew the scalding hot weather into simmering heat, your boss let you close a little early, especially on Tuesdays, when most tourists had already headed home and the new arrivals hadn’t landed yet so there were barely any customers around.

Your plan today had been to finish your reading for class and start the new crime thriller you picked up at the used books store on your way to work. Except, today you were just too restless to focus. You must have reread the same paragraph of your textbook twenty times before you gave up and set it aside, giving the other book a go, but it was just as unsuccessful at holding your attention.

So instead, you moved around the cramped space, adjusting the decoration items, dusting off shelves, and refolding every single shirt in the display until it was perfectly symmetrical while you willed time to move faster so you could end this day. Maybe it was the heatwave that had made an appearance turning the air in the shop stifling and all you had to help you was an old and slow fan that made more noise than blow air. The A/C was busted and your boss still hadn’t called someone to fix it.

Another possibility was the fact that you had to keep the glass doors opened to help circulate a little air and every time any kind of wind blew or someone walked in, it brought with them the crisp smell of salt and sand that always made you ache for the ocean and fight against the temptation of just abandoning everything and heading for the beach so you could cool off taking a dip in the deliciously cold water. Either way, you kept checking the slow ticking of the clock hands, counting the seconds before you could turn the closed sign.

When the minute hand finally hit twelve, you let out a cheer, jumping off your stool and taking a step towards the door. You always locked the doors first to discourage most last-minute walk-ins while you closed the register, put away the money in the back office safe, and slipped out of the store through the back door, taking any garbage with you to throw in the dumpster outside.

Before you could move from behind the counter, a man stepped into the store and you groaned low in your throat. Of-fucking-course! It was like they stood in wait to come in at the precise moment you were about to head out.

“Hey, you’re still open, right?” He asked, pushing the overgrown dark hair back from his forehead and offering you an unsure smile. You felt the urge to lie and say that no, you were closed and he should come back tomorrow.

“Yeah, sure.” You said instead placing your best and most fake seller’s smile. “Feel free to look around and let me know if you need help.”

“Thanks!” He replied, flashing a wider smile that showed a small dimple, before moving towards the shirts in the display while you made your way to the main entrance, flipped the sign, and locked the door to bar any other walk-ins.

You hung back while the guy browsed the options, taking a moment to assess him. He didn’t look like a tourist, but also not fully like a local. Most Californian guys that you knew had the most horrifying hair cuts or bleach jobs you had ever seen and that was not the case for the man in front of you.

His hair was dark brown, a little shaggy from too much exposure to sun and salt and it flopped a little over his forehead, just above his eyes. He wore a grey cropped t-shirt that had definitely seen better days and struggled to contain his broad shoulders, showing a peek of toned abs. His jeans were ridiculously tight and hung low on his slender hips, the light-wash of the denim accentuating the perfect bubble butt and for the love of God, you needed to get laid. Badly.

“Excuse me,” he called, startling you and you prayed he hadn’t noticed the way you were checking his ass just now. “Do you have this one in black?”

“Yeah, sure.” You moved towards the drawers. “What’s your usual size? Medium or large?”

“I think large should be good,” he replied and when you turned around with the requested shirt, he was just standing there, barechested, his top hanging from his shoulder and you hoped your gasp wasn’t as loud as it sounded in your head.

“Here you go,” you croaked, offering him the shirt. “We do have a fitting room…” you gestured towards the small cubicle to the rear of the store.

“Oh right!” He glanced over as he pulled the shirt on. “Do you mind if I try them out here, though?”

“Not at all,” you forced your voice to sound somewhat normal.

“Awesome!”

Damn! He wasn’t just fucking hot. He was also cute, the wide grin he just flashed giving him a boyish look that was only enhanced by the almond-shaped chocolate-colored eyes. Biting your lip, you watched as he turned side to side in front of the mirror, checking himself out.

“It think is a little too big,” he said, meeting your gaze. “What do you think?”

“Well…” you cleared your throat and moved closer so you could look at him through the mirror. “If you want it more fitted, then yeah, probably a smaller size would be best. Want me to get it?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

Once again, by the time you turned back to him, he was shirtless, the garment he had just tried neatly folded and resting on the shelf as he took a look at some other shirts, his attention snapping at you when he noticed you coming closer to hand him the new shirt, giving you a glimpse of a pale, sunken scar running down his abs that stopped just above his belly button and that drew attention to the small trail of fine dark hairs that disappeared under the waist of his jeans and holy shit! He was bare beneath those jeans.

“Bike accident,” he commented as he took the shirt that you offered and you met his eyes in confusion.

“What?” You asked, mouth suddenly dry.

“The scar,” he clarified, putting on the shirt and his lips were tilted into a slight smirk. “That was what you were staring at, right?”

“Right,” you agreed, feeling your face burning. “I’ll just head to the register and give you some privacy.”

I don’t mind,” he shrugged, turning to the mirror. “This is better. What do you think?” He turned towards you, giving you a full view of the cotton fabric covering his muscles, looking almost as if painted on him.

“Sure...” you swallowed hard, trying not to stare. “If you prefer it more fitted...”

“I do,” pulling the shirt off and once again giving you the glorious view of his torso. “I’ll take it.”

You took the shirt to the register and he followed, pausing only to pick up his own, which he had discarded on a nearby hanger. You were expecting him to put it back on, but he just threw it over his shoulder, reaching for his wallet as you registered the sale and tried not to stare.

“Is that the only camera you have around here?” He asked, gesturing to a point above your left and you glanced at the object before nodding, exchanging the money he gave you for the paper bag with his purchase.

“Yeah, why?”

“So basically...” he started, taking a step to the side, closer to the fitting room. “I’m completely out of sight over here?”

“Basically, yeah,” you frowned a little, stepping away from the counter. “Why? Are you planning to rob the place? Because let me tell you, there’s not much worth...” You trailed off with a surprised squeak as he tugged on your hand, pulling you over to the blindspot and nearly pressed against his strong chest.

“Because honestly, I never really gave a fuck about the shirt. I just thought you were beautiful and wanted to ask your number when I walked in, but you looked kind pissed so I got cold feet,” he confessed with a rueful smile.

“So you decided to just get mostly naked in front of me?” You snorted, shaking your head and he shrugged.

“Needed to make sure you might be interested and considering the way you were eyeing me earlier, it looked like you saw something you liked.”

“You’re really sure of yourself, aren’t you?” You arched an eyebrow at him, not ready to concede just yet. Even if the heat of his body and the smell of sea breeze whiffing off his skin were driving you crazy.

“Only when I’m right,” he flashed you a lopsided smirk and just waited, gazing into your eyes, making it clear that the next step was yours.

Part of you screamed that it was crazy to even consider hooking up with a guy that just walked into your store, no matter how hot he was, but it had been a ridiculously long time since you last had sex and he was so fucking hot, the scent of his golden skin intoxicating and his heat was making you dizzy with want as you looked him up and down, noticing the volume pressing against the denim of his pants.

“We might not have cameras, but the windows are see-through, so get your ass to the fitting room while I finish closing up.”

He flashed a victorious smirk and nodded, heading towards the back while you rushed through the steps of securing the store before joining him.

Your heart was pounding with anticipation as you made your way towards the back, pushing away the curtain that blocked the small space of the fitting room and finding him perched on the low stool that you kept there so customers could put down their things, facing the full-length mirror, legs spread, jeans undone, revealing the bush of dark hairs surrounding his long and thick cock.

You nearly whimpered at the sight, your center pulsing in want as you leaned against the doorframe, watching him as he run his left hand up and down his shaft, head tilted back, breathing hard, eyes hooded. He was such a beautiful and debauched sight that you felt the urge to photograph him, capture that sensuality.

“Are you just gonna stand there and watch?” He asked, eyes meeting yours through the reflective surface.

“You seemed to be doing fine on your own,” you teased stepping into the tight space, fingers itching to touch all that glorious skin.

“I did not just spend most of my afternoon at the corner diner, drinking burned coffee just to jerk off in front of you,” he declared, standing up and turning your way.

“Ohhh, so this was premeditated?” You asked, kicking off your sneakers as he reached for you and you stumbled against his chest.

“A little bit, yeah,” he admitted, large hand hot against your hips and you wanted to feel it against your flesh. “You probably don’t remember, but I was here last week and you had to bend over to get something from one of the lower drawers...” he let out a soft groan, hands moving to your ass and squeezing lightly. “Fuck! I don’t think I ever popped a boner so fast in my life. I had to get out.”

You vaguely remembered that. There was so much coming and going in this place, it was hard to keep track of faces, but customers just taking off after asking to see something usually caused an impression. If you weren’t about to get fucked after six months, you would be more pissed.

“So you decided to come back when I was alone and seduce me?” you asked, running your hands over his chest and abs, scratching it slightly and goosebumps rose in his skin as he hissed.

“Yeah,” he spoke in a low voice as his hands move to the button of your jeans. “I’ve been thinking about you all week,” he slid your fly down and your breath caught in your throat. “I thought about bending you over that counter and fucking you until you’re screaming.” His fingers skimmed over your cunt, just a soft touch, but you gasped and arched your hips forward, holding onto his arms to steady yourself. “I thought about it eating your pussy and your ass until you’re begging me to fuck you.”

Those words were whispered right against your ear, before he changed your positions, crowding you against the mirror and pushing your jeans down to your thighs before he once against skimmed his fingers over covered sex, making you ache for him.

“What do you think about that?” He asked, lips brushing your cheek in an almost chaste kiss, completely opposed to the lewdness of his hand exploring your cunt. “Do you want it?”

“If you’re as good with your tongue at eating pussy like you are at talking dirty, then I maybe I do,” you declared, tired of his teasing and you felt his smirk as he gracefully slid to his knees in front of you.

You didn’t manage to get another word out before he shoved your panties down to join your jeans and his lips firmly connected to your clit. He gave it a sharp suck and you groaned, burying your fingers into his hair to keep yourself on your feet as your brain short-circuited and your knees turned to jelly.

He was very good at eating you out, especially because he was very attentive to every sound you made, every tightening of your grip on his hair, and roll of your hips to nudge him into going faster or slower, harder or softer... It wasn’t long before he reached that perfect alternation of fast flickering against your clit and slower and broad strokes of his tongue over your entrance and lips, a combination that drove you crazy.

You were whimpering and moaning, legs quaking with the alternating urge to close them around his face to keep him trapped there pleasuring you forever or spreading them wider so he could have more space to work, but the edges of your jeans were digging into the lower part of your knees, signaling you that that was as far as they could go.

As if reading your thoughts or maybe he just realized he would need more room, he shoved your pants down and helped you to kick them off so you could be completely free of the garment. And didn’t you two looked like a mismatched pair, with you standing there wearing only your top while he knelt in front of you, his jeans still on.

Once your pants were off, he hooked your right thigh over his shoulder, pressing his mouth even harder against your cunt, flickering his tongue over your clit before dipping it in between your lips, gathering the juices soaking your sex like a starved man.

“Fuck! I’m so close...” you hissed, rolling your hips, seeking more because that tight knot deep inside you was about to snap and from the way you ached and shuddered, your muscles tensing, you knew it would be a hard one.

“Yeah?” He mumbled against your core, his breath against your overheated skin making you shiver as he pushed two fingers inside you. “Gonna cum all over my mouth?”

He pistoled his fingers in and out at a fast pace, crooking inwards with every down motion, his tongue matching his rhythm against your clit and it was that made you snap as you bit down on your fist to stop yourself from shouting as your body was flooded with pleasure and all you knew was the unbelievable bliss that surrounded you. Stars bust behind your closed lids, the air came out of your lungs in short gushes as you fought hard not to slide down to the ground because your legs felt like jelly.

“Ok?” he asked, making you finally snap your eyes open to look at him.

He was sitting on his heels, face still glistening with your orgasm, his lips swollen and red from the abuse. His cock was rock hard, red, and leaking and you really wanted to return the favor.

“Way better than ok,” you replied with a gasp. “My turn?” To your surprise, he shook his head and got to his feet.

“Tonight, the only place I’m cumming is in that pussy,” he announced against your ear and shivered with anticipation. “So let’s get out of this fucking store and go to my place?”

“Fuck yes!” you grinned breathlessly at him as you reached for your jeans and he buttoned his over his hard cock and that couldn’t be comfortable.

“I’m Johnny, by the way,” he said. “Johnny Utah. Just in case you want to know what to shout when I fuck your brains out later.”

You rolled your eyes at his cheeky smirk and moved closer to him, once fully clothed, the only evidence of your recent climax was the sweat cooling on your skin and the stupid grin that refused to leave your face.

“I think I like you more when your mouth is busy with something other than talking,” you declared and before Johnny could manage a reply, you silenced him with a kiss, tasting yourself in his tongue.

xxx

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[mingyooed]

TWO PEAS IN A POD

It's not a secret that Mingyu is scared of bugs. Be it a cockroach or something as small as a bee, Mingyu will scream his lungs out and ran to the ends of the earth when he sees one.

So when Seventeen got a month off and Mingyu immediately planned a date with you on his first free weekend of the year, you got surprised when he decided to book a spot on the newest glamping resort a few minutes away from the city center. He looked forward to hanging out with you so he did his best to plan the best weekend date ever and proceeded to buy all the stuff you will be needing, from food to camping tools.

"Are you sure it will be just the two of us or are the boys coming as well?" You tried to stiffle a laugh as you look over the amount of food your boyfriend bought. He doesn't want the two of you to go hungry but what's in front of you can easily feed starving Seventeen members for 3 days. "Is it too much? Sorry, I'm used to buying in wholesale because of the guys. But I got the important stuff here!"

Mingyu pulled out a medium sized bag and poured out the contents on the table. Bug repellant spray, bug repellant lotion, bug zapping lamp-- basically every invented stuff to keep the bugs away. This time, you couldn't hold your laughter anymore and Mingyu couldn't help but join you. It does look ridiculous, but going glamping and bringing this much stuff is a precautionary measure. He has to be safe.

When the weekend arrived, the two of you excitedly drove to the location and immediately unpacked when you found your reserved tent. A huge grin broke out on your face upon seeing the beautiful sight. There weren't a lot of people in the area you chose so it was calm and peaceful. Mingyu started grilling the pork belly while you cooked the ramen. A rare moment where Mingyu doesn't have to cook 20 servings.

After a very filling dinner, you decided to play some card games and started catching up with each other. What was once a peaceful night suddenly turned chaotic when a beetle decided to get closer to Mingyu.

"What?" Mingyu asked when you suddenly froze midgame. You tried to tell him about the bug but words won't come out of your mouth. "B-bu.... b-u....." you pointed on his shoulders and Mingyu blinked at you, not understanding what you are saying.

The moment you tried to talk again, the cute little beetle flew, which startled you and your boyfriend. You both screamed like there's no tomorrow and ran to the bed, farther away from the beetle.

"Why is that so biiiiig?" Mingyu cried as he tried to hide his big baby body behind you. "Stop pushing me!! Go get it, Mingyu!" You tried pushing him to catch the bug but he won't budge.

"Mingyuuuuu..."

"Okay, I will protect you!"

He put out his arm in front of you to 'protect' you but his butt stayed glued behind you. You gently slapped his arm and the big baby yelped..... but still didn't move.

The two of you stayed silent, pushing yourselves unto the wall even more just to create some centimeteres more distance to the bug. A few moments later, you hear Mingyu giggling and felt his chest rumble on your back. "Are you also afraid of bugs?" You giggled with him and nodded. "Bigtime."

A few more minutes passed and the two of you, still huddled together, watched as the beetle roam around the tent. It is kinda embarrassing to call an employee to help you get rid of the beetle but it's not like any of you are brave enough to do it yourselves. But you couldn't possibly stay like that forever. You won't be able to sleep or generally enjoy the weekend date.

"Love...," Mingyu called you and you responded with a hum. "What are we gonna do?" The giggling didn't stop. You find your situation ridiculously funny and even if it is unfortunate for you and your boyfriend to be taken hostage by a cute little beetle, the experience is still something you won't exchange for anything else. As long as you are together, no matter what the adventure is, everything is fine.

"That's it. I'm calling Minghao.." Mingyu muttered as he reached for his phone on the table--- but the beetle flew at the same time making him scream... one the Minghao probably heard already.

[ppersonna]

make me - myg | m

strawberries on a summer evenin'. baby, you're the end of June. i want your belly and that summer feelin', getting washed away in you - watermelon sugar, harry styles

↳ summary- an ordinary sleepover with your best friend turns into anything but ordinary, thanks to your ridiculously loud neighbors above you.

↳ rating- explicit / 18+ / nc17

↳ word count- 4.4k

↳ pairing- yoongi x reader

↳ genre-  pwp lol, smut, fluff, somehow the dirtiest fluff i have ever written bc there’s some depraved shit in here

↳ warnings- penetrative sex, oral sex (m/f receiving), unprotected sex (dont...pls), dirty talk, rough sex, degrading talk, dom/sub undertones, bratty backtalk

↳ a/n- yooooo dawg this... was fun.  i hope you enjoy!!  ive been in my yoongi feels lately uwu. feel free to comment, message, dm, whatever u want babes.  i love you!

Yoongi thinks if he has to hear your upstairs neighbors fuck for another minute longer he might actually go crazy.

It’s been hours now.  The girl is screaming like a feral cat and the man is doing a terrible impression of a porn star, trying his best to talk dirty but really just calling the howling banshee awful names.  

If only his dick would be as annoyed as his brain.

He knows you’re awake next to him too.  The steady rise and fall of your breathing changed when the bad porn above you began—now it’s faint and too quick to indicate anything but your wakefulness.

“Ohhhhh oppa!” The girl above you screams.

It’s finally what breaks down the silence in your bedroom.  At her wanton sound, you and Yoongi are unable to stop yourselves from bursting into laughter.

Yoongi’s stomach hurts from laughing so hard.  Tears form at the corners of his eyes as you make the bed rumble from the force of your combined laughter.

“God, do they think that sounds hot?” You finally ask after settling down to mere giggles.

Yoongi shrugs and wipes away his tears. “Apparently.  He must like the way she sounds like a dying cat.”

His comment sends you into a spiral of laughter again, and you’re clinging to your chest as it heaves with exertion.

Yoongi is your best friend for a reason.  No one makes you laugh as hard as he does.  No one understands you the way he seems to be able to—it’s almost intuitive the way he can understand your feelings.  

You live for your weekly sleepovers.  You drink wine, watch terrible horror films, gossip about your other friend’s love lives, and fall asleep in your bed together.  It’s never been anything but blissful.

Until recently…

When your heart decided it would beat too fast around him.  When your brain decided to spin and weave stories of romance with your best friend.

Now, you can’t hardly think about anything else around the dirty blonde haired boy.  It’s overwhelming to all of your senses when you see him, feel him near you.  You want to kiss him, to love him, to tear his clothing off.

Which makes lying in your full size bed while the neighbors above you fuck and attempt to act out their wildest fantasies—badly—so much harder than usual.

“God,” Yoongi sighs and tugs the blanket up to his chin. “Does she even like it or do you think she’s faking it?”

You wrinkle your nose in disgust. “Ugh, I know I wouldn’t be into it.”

“You don’t like dirty talk?” He teases with a poke to your stomach.  It makes an eruption of nerves go off in your chest.

“Oh, no I do. But that’s not dirty talk,” you shrug. “He’s just being mean. There’s no sensuality underneath it.”

He hums and lays back down to stare at the ceiling.

“Give me an example,” he asks of you. It makes your cheeks flush red and you’re thankful for the darkness in your room to provide you cover.

“Um, well,” you cough awkwardly. “He’s saying shit like ‘you fuck anything don’t you?’ which, maybe she’s into degradation, but I’m not. Not that extreme.”  Your explanation sounds lame, but you continue anyway. “I prefer to hear things like ‘this slutty little pussy belongs to me’.  Possessive and hot at the same time without being too...uhh...hurtful.”

Yoongi feels his cock rise with piquing interest. There’s a nagging guilt about thinking of his best friend this way, and a tinge of jealousy thinking someone who isn’t him has said that to you.

He feels his throat dry up, and you wring your hands nervously on the blanket. The moaning above you doesn’t stop, and you can hear the telltale sound of flesh slapping on flesh, indicating they’ve commenced into penetration and it makes your body throb with annoyance, and with want.

There’s moments when a louder slap echoes through the room—it’s clear the man is slapping her somewhere—and she whines desperately.  Your core starts building that familiar heat, a slickness gathering you can’t stop. You press your thighs together tight and squirm as subtly as you can. You pray Yoongi doesn’t notice.  

Yoongi, however, does notice.  He breathes a sigh of relief internally knowing he’s not the only being affected by the commotion above. But he doesn’t understand the meaning behind it. For all he knows, you’re just turned on because—well, because it’s sex and it’s loud and who wouldn’t be a little turned on? You’re likely not at all aroused by him, or the thought of him. Right?

Another slap echoes through the room and you can tell by the way the girl gasps that her partner slapped her in the face.

“Damn,” you shiver.  Yoongi turns to peek at you through the darkness.

“You into that?” He asks curiously. “Face slapping?”

It’s hard to swallow for a moment—it feels like you’re trying to down a boulder.

“Uh, yeah,” you whisper. “Yeah, I like pain.”

Yoongi doesn’t reply and it makes you fear you’ve overstepped the line. You’ve gone too far off the ‘best friend’ track and the whole train is about to de-rail.

You’re opening your mouth to apologize for taking it too far when Yoongi finally speaks.

“Fuck it,” he sighs. “You want to fuck louder and establish dominance?”

The world stops turning.  You’re sure that gravity doesn’t exist anymore and the theory of relativity has been proven wrong.

Did Min mother fucking Yoongi, your best friend of over twenty years, just offer to have sex with you to...establish dominance over the neighbors above you attempting to make a cheap porn?

He’s looking at you normally, but there’s a glimmer in his eye that says more.  It says he wants you.  Your stomach twists in on itself.  There’s no way, there is no actual plausible way that the man beside you feels the same way about you as you do.

“You want to have sex with me?”

Yoongi’s cheeks turn pink and he looks away for a minute.

“I also want to date you,” he murmurs.  

If you thought the world ended before, you’re sure this is the fiery explosion that brings a new earth into life with a bang.

The noises from upstairs interrupt the romantic moment with a scream, a guttural howl from the man, and then muffled whispers and sighs.

“What do you say we keep them up all night too?” His mouth turns to a smirk as he awaits your reply.

“Yeah,” you nod as you throw the blankets off you.  “Fuck those guys, lets show them what real kinky sex looks like.”

Yoongi’s eyes turn feral as he works his eyesight down your body.  Your normal sleepwear outfit of a tank top and shorts looks like lingerie to him now and he’s salivating at the way he can see the curve of your breasts, and the press of your hard nipples against the fabric.

You’re throwing yourself onto Yoongi’s body in an instant, pinning him down to the bed and pressing your lips to his.  You waste no time in waiting for him now that you know—now that you’ve heard with your two ears that Min Yoongi not only wants to fuck you, but date you as well.   No use wasting any more time—the time for action is now.

The kiss is hot and Yoongi’s hands falter for a moment in surprise before he’s coming to his senses and tugging at your tank top quickly to pull it off your body.  His hands feel hot on the bare skin of your back, rubbing at your spine and up to your shoulders.  It makes you shiver, and you slide your tongue into his mouth to explore the heat inside.  

His hands navigate forward to cup your breasts, fingers toying with your nipples—pinching and pulling and rolling between the pads of his fingers.  It has you keening into his touch and grinding down on his basketball-shorts-covered cock. 

Yoongi pulls away from you and pulls at a nipple harshly, which makes you gasp out loud.

“It’s real cute how you think you’re in charge right now,” he points out.  “Real fucking cute.  It’s gonna make me almost feel bad for punishing you.”

You’re sure your soul is going to leave your body at hearing your best friend’s sexy baritone voice verbalize your dirtiest fantasies.  If this is how you react now…, may God have mercy on your poor little pussy.

Yoongi thinks he’s possibly never been harder than he is right now.  His best friend, best girl, is sitting atop his boner and he’s twisting your pretty nipples so hard they’ll surely turn purple soon.  You sound so sweet when you whine, and you’re starting to whine louder as he continues the pressure on your tits.

“You thought you could take control, didn’t you?” He asks, slipping further and further into the dominant act.  He loves this, thrives off it.  He didn’t think you’d ever be into it—none of the girls he’s dated before have—and he’s thrilled he doesn’t have to hide this depraved part of himself.

You nod and bite your lip, wincing as he tugs once more on a nipple before letting go.

“Cute,” he sighs.  “But wrong.”

In an instant, he flips you two over and he feels his heart and cock swell at the sight of your sweet eyes widening at the quick change.  

“This feels better, don’t you think?” He asks.  You nod and he shakes his head.  “Answer me, baby doll.  You’re already about to get punished.  You wouldn’t want to make me not let you cum, would you?”

The fear in your eyes increases and you clear your throat to talk.

“No sir, I don’t want that.”  

Yoongi nearly moans.  Hearing you call him sir, being underneath him—it’s his wet dreams come to life.

“Then tell me,” he instructs. “Tell me you need me in charge.”

You’re dying to be a brat, really wanting to pull Yoongi completely out of his shell, show him the full extent of what he can do to you.  Plus, you really wanna give your neighbors a show—a taste of their own medicine, don’t you?

“What if I don’t want to?” You tease.

Yoongi’s grin turns wider and his eyes sparkle with knowing. He’s a through and through brat-tamer, and by the end of the night you’ll be crying for forgiveness.

“Little tease,” he growls as he leans down to latch his mouth on your abused nipple.  

You gasp out loud, and it turns into desperate mewling as his teeth nibble and pull.  You’ll be bruised up for days, surely.  He sucks hard, pulls on it roughly and bites with meaning. You just know your panties are completely soaked.

“Talking back to me, huh? You think that’s going to get you where you want to go tonight, little girl?”

He turns his attention to your other nipple, eyes peering into yours as you struggle to answer with the sizzle of pain in your breast.

“What are you gonna do about it?” You send back with a shake of your hips under him.

The growl he delivers around your nipple and the quick bite makes you yelp.

“I think I should shut that loud mouth of yours up.”

You smile in response and his fingers tug down your shorts.  You lift your hips and allow him to pull the clothing off and you’re left in your slicked up panties.

“Oh yeah?” You retort.  “You gonna shut me up with that fat cock?”

Yoongi visibly shivers. His spine tingles deliciously for minutes after the hair on his neck settles.  He’s dreamed of you like this, under him and begging to be put in your place.  And now, here you are.  And he can’t wait to make it a reality.  He’s even forgotten about the loud neighbors.  It’s now just all about you.

“I bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you? Dirty little slut so horny to get her mouth on my cock.”

Yoongi allows a finger to trail down your clothed slit, and he outwardly groans at how wet you are.  You’re unable to hold back your whimpers of need—he’s so close to where you need him most and where you’ve dreamed of having him.

“You talk a big game for someone who’s drenched before I’ve even done anything,” Yoongi says with a smirk.

Your legs tremble as he pulls your panties to the side to expose your drenched folds. He dips a finger in and touches your clit. You moan in unison—he’s captivated by the heat and slick, you’re feeling air escape your lungs with every swirl of his finger.

“Y-Yoongi,” you whine.  He tsks and pulls his finger out.

“That’s not my name right now.” His hands start to slide your panties down and your stomach leaps with excitement.

“Sir, please.”

“Now you want to be my good girl?” He asks with a chuckle. “Where’s my mouthy little brat who wants my cock to shut her up?”

He leans back on his heels and watches you eye him. You’re nearly bursting at the seams. You’re naked while he remains completely clothed and while you’d normally feel exposed and vulnerable, all you feel is white hot heat. You’re burning for Yoongi, for him to do what you’ve dreamt he could do.

“Why don’t you show me what that sweet mouth can do?”  

He maneuvers to stand at the side of the bed, dick straining against the mesh of his shorts. He waits for you to sit up, which you wordlessly obey.  His cock is now eye level with you, and your mouth feels dry. You’ve dreamt about this dick, about what it looks like and how it would feel in your hand, inside you. The fact that you’re here now, about to find out all your secret fantasies is heady.

Your hand rubs at the straining material, over the thickness of his cock. He feels big, and you give it a squeeze which makes him hiss.

“Still being a tease,” he sighs with faux disappointment. “You’re in a precarious position to be such a little cocktease.  Might need to fuck that right out of you.”

It makes you whimper—his direct threats sounding like smooth promises going straight to your core.

“I’d like to see you try.”

Yoongi growls and grabs a bit of your hair, tugging your head back to look at him in the eyes.

“I think you should shut this fucking mouth up.”  His voice is dark, and his eyes glow with lust.

A grin pulls over your face as you gaze sweetly up at him—his hand still gripped tight in your hair.

“Make me.”

Yoongi is silent for a moment as he stares at you in wonder—his beautiful girl, so rebellious and yet so willing to comply.

“I fucking love you, you little fucking slut.”

Yoongi forces his shorts down and grips your chin, holding it hard in his hand.

“Now choke on my fucking cock.”

You open your mouth complacently and he wastes no time in shoving his entire length down your throat mercilessly.  

It’s hot. It feels like fucking heaven.  Your lips wrap around him and suction and he can feel your gag reflex straining against his tip at the back of your throat.  Yoongi thinks his entire spine is tingling with desire for you and the way you take his cock so well has his toes curling.

You didn’t even get to have a good look at Yoongi’s cock before it was shoved into your throat, but now that it’s there you don’t even need to see it to knows he is fucking thick and long. It stretches your mouth and you know your pussy will be taken to its limit when he finally buries himself inside you where he rightfully belongs.

“Can’t talk back now, can you?” He teases as he begins to fuck your throat. “Mmmm shit—, you suck my cock so fucking good.”

His words are nothing but encouragement for you and you fight back the growing discomfort in your throat and allow him to use it as he pleases.  Tears form in your eyes and slip down your face at the exertion and you soon feel his balls slap at your chin.  You’ve only fantasized of being used like this by Yoongi, and now it’s actually fucking happening.  You’ll be damned if you don’t give him the suck of a lifetime.

Yoongi thinks he’s staring into heaven as he fucks your tight mouth and watches as your eyes fill with tears.  They leak out and he knows you’re loving this just as much as he is by the palpable enthusiasm you accept his cock with.

“Look at my little brat,” he coos mockingly. “Not so big and brave now, are you?  Not with daddy’s cock wrecking your hot mouth.”

He picks up the pace and the sounds turn disgustingly lewd.  It’s a wet, slurping sound as Yoongi forces his cock in and out of your drooling mouth.  Saliva drips onto the bed below you as you take him all, never given a chance to breathe or swallow.  Yoongi takes and you selflessly give. You’d allow the man to split you in half—and you’re actively hoping he does just that tonight.

Suddenly, Yoongi is pulling out of your mouth and leaving you panting and keening for more. He grips his cock with a fist.  He strokes himself roughly and looks down at you.

“Gonna cum, baby girl. Fucking beg for it.”

Your hands grip at his thighs and you’re breathing hard to catch up on the oxygen you were denied.  But it doesn’t stop you from doing exactly as he orders.

“Please, daddy. Please cum on my face.  Let me taste your cum, I want to know what you taste like.  Cum on me.  Mark me, daddy.”

Yoongi whines and increases the speed of his pumps. His mouth falls open as he watches you pout so sweetly and wait so eagerly for his seed on your face. He wants to see your entire body covered in his cum and he plans on ensuring that happens sooner rather than later.

“My eager little bitch. Wants her daddy to mark his territory.”

You nod, tongue sticking out and wagging like a dog for his cum.

“Please, daddy.  Make me messy.”

It seems to be the secret password to Yoongi’s climax. Your desperation, your eager position, the way you beg so sweetly.  It sends him right over the edge and he cries out as his cock pulses white stripes over your pretty face.  

He wishes he could take a picture of the way his cum covers your face.  He’d make it his background photo so he could see it every day, show everyone around him the gorgeous little whore he gets to cum on every night.

“Shit, babygirl,” he groans as he attempts to catch his breath.  “Look at you.”

You smile as your tongue retreats into your mouth and you savor the drops that landed on your tongue.  Your eyes close in bliss as you enjoy the flavor, noting it tastes salty and sweet and you can’t wait to reacquaint yourself with the taste over and over again.

“Lay back,” he orders as he pushes his shorts all the way off.  

In his haste to fuck your throat, he only pushed them halfway.  He slips out of them and pulls his shirt off before he joins you on the bed.

“Let me drink this cunt.”

You whimper in agreement as you press your back in to the pillows and spread open your legs.

“Please, daddy.”

He grins as he lowers himself to lie between your legs.  He blows on it, cool air pushing over your folds chilling you.

“Fuck,” he sighs.  “Greedy little cunt wants it all, hm?”

“Yes, daddy.”

“So compliant for me now,” he whispers as he kisses your thighs. “I like it when you behave.”

He kisses in further, and soon he’s using his fingers to spread apart the folds and pressing the flat of his tongue to your clit and laving it over the aching nub.

“Holy shit,” he groans as he comes up and sucks his tongue back into his mouth.  “Sweetest little pussy.”

You can’t reply, the capability to speak has left you now.  He buries his face back into your cunt and gets to work.  His tongue starts flicking against the bundle of nerves and then dips down to fuck into your channel.  He works his tongue around you and your back arches off the bed and your heels dig into the mattress.  You seek purchase in his hair with your hands, digits gripping at the blonde locks between your thighs.  

Yoongi groans and moans into your cunt, and soon he slips two fingers in to fuck you roughly.

He pulls his lips away and licks his tongue over them to collect the slick that lingers.  His fingers maintain a quick pace and he drinks in the sight of you gasping at the stretch.

“Yeah, look at you take my fucking fingers.  Such a wanton little whore for me.”

He slides another finger in to join, then another, and it makes your cries echo loudly around the room.  He suddenly remembers the neighbors above you and smirks.  He pulls his hands from you, making you keen with desire and desperately beg for more.

“Daddy! Please, I need..” you gasp. “Need you!”

He pulls himself up to join your hips together and rolls his them against each other.  His cock rubs against your soaked pussy and he bites his lip at the feel of it getting slicked up.

“I want you to be nice and loud for me, baby girl,” he demands sweetly in your ear as he licks the shell.  He notes your shiver and smirks, before kissing your ear lightly.  “Tell those mother fuckers upstairs who’s going to take you to Hong Kong.”

“Yes, daddy,” you agree.  

It only takes the consent to leave your lips for Yoongi to spear his cock into you.  He’s not slow or gentle, he pushes it into the hilt immediately.

Yoongi meant to start a pace, to begin fucking into you mercilessly, but he’s frozen inside your tight heat.  You feel so good, so fucking tight and warm and wet for him.  It’s better than heaven, and surely better than any pussy he’s been inside before.  Maybe it’s because it’s you, and no one else.

“Fuck!” He gasps. “Holy shit I could cum right now.”

You whine and move your hips desperately.

“Fuck me daddy! Fuck me hard, please!  Use me like your little cock sleeve.”

Yoongi bites his lip and feels his cock pulse.

“Shit, you’ve got a dirty fucking mouth,” he grits. “Let’s see if you’ve got a dirty little pussy too.”

He sets a pace, desperately wills his cock not to cum yet.  He wants to fuck you senseless, until your eyes roll back in your head.  He’s gonna make sure you get off on his cock before he comes close to his end.

Yoongi grips your chin again, like he did at the beginning as he fucks into you roughly.

“Look at you take my fucking cock so deep,” he bites out.  “Your cunt is so fucking desperate for my fat cock, isn’t it? You need me to fuck some discipline into you.”

You’re nearly screaming now at the force of his thrusts.  He’s pushing all the way into you with each push and his balls smack against your ass deliciously.  You’re babbling, words unable to make sense as he fucks all the brain cells out of you.

“Dumb little cock slut,” he whispers as he leans down to suck a nipple into his mouth and bite at it before releasing it  “Little brat turns into a perfect little fuck hole for me, so fucking good for me.”

“Yes, y-y-yes baby! S-so close!”  

Yoongi’s had you near the verge since his oral, and now with his punishing pace and power in his driving hips, you’re hovering over the edge.

His hand drops down to rub at your clit, a circular motion that has you gasping and screaming his name.

“That’s fucking right,” he breathes. “Tell them, baby.  Tell them who’s got the best fucking cock.  Tell them who fills this pussy up so well.”

You’re eager to comply.

“You, daddy!  Fuck!  You feel so fucking thick in me.  I need your cum, please, please.  Cum on me.”

Yoongi feels his balls tighten impossibly--he knows he’s seconds away from an explosive orgasm.

“Cum on my cock, baby girl.  Let me feel you cream my fucking cock.  Wanna see you all over this fat dick.”

His free hand tugs at a nipple and pulls it punishingly, tugging it so far it pulls the skin around it.  Your screams light up the room, echoing and bouncing off the walls and surely traveling up to your neighbors bedroom.

“Yoongi! Fuck! I’m cumming!” You warn, a millisecond before your world crashes around you.  

Your cunt squeezes his cock so tightly that it causes his hips to stutter in their pace.  It grips him tight, angry like a squeezed fist and Yoongi feels the air get sucked out of his lungs as his climax follows directly after yours.  He didn’t even have a chance to pull out--he’s emptying his load into your womb and whining at the feeling of your pulsating walls milking every single drop greedily.

It’s several minutes later that you’re both caught up to normal breathing and resting beside each other on the bed.  The room is silent, save for little pants and breaths, and Yoongi reaches over to lace his fingers into yours and hold your hand tightly.

“You wanna date me?” He asks sweetly, as if his cum isn’t dripping out of your cunt as he speaks.  

It makes you laugh.  It’s so classically Yoongi that you can’t help but to laugh.  

“Yes, daddy, I want to date you.  I want to date you every single day.”

He pulls you into his embrace and kisses at your forehead.

“Maybe we should send your neighbors some flowers for getting us together,” he teases.

As if on cue, the all too familiar sound of skin slapping against skin and screeching moans comes from upstairs and plays through your apartment like an unwanted jukebox.

“God damn it, our plan backfired.” he grumbles. “I think we turned them on.”

You press your sticky, sweaty body against him and kiss at his lips.  Your hand sneaks down to his cock and grips it again, begging it to come back to life.

“Shall we try again, then?”

[heavenlybarnes]

not a costume | loki drabble

summary: loki is offended when you laugh at his outfit. how were you supposed to know it isn't a halloween costume?

word count: 684

pairing: loki x reader

a/n: it's a little late and i wrote this in a rush but hope y'all like it!

You feel his hands before you see them: one pressed firm against your abdomen, pushing you into his chest; another flung over your mouth to smother your scream.

You don't know to whom they belong, only that they're warm and soft and smell faintly of lotion, a spicy scent that tickles your nose.

Well, that, and they're currently dragging you into one of the grocery store's empty janitor's closets. You're not sure if you should be more upset about the fact that you're trapped in a cramped, dark room with a stranger, or that said stranger, in his haste, made you drop your king-size Snickers bar. A shame, really, since you'd been looking forward to chocolate the whole week.

Why can't you be upset about both?

When the stranger shuts the door behind you, you open your mouth against his hand and clamp down on the skin of his palm, perhaps more firmly than necessary. But it works; the man howls in pain and releases you, stumbling over a pile of cleaning bottles in the process.

In the darkness, all you can see of him are his eyes, green and glittering.

"Fuck," he hisses, snapping his head up to glare at you. "What was that for?"

Is he serious?

"What do you think?" You spit out breathlessly, hand fumbling for the light switch. You swear you can hear your heart in your ears, it's beating so fast. "You can't just drag a random stranger into a closet! Who the hell do you think you are?"

The man opens his mouth to respond but your fingers find the switch first, flicking it on so the small room floods with light.

And you can't help it; you laugh.

Not a tiny laugh, either, but a full-on belly laugh, all snorts and surprised giggles that make tears prick the corners of your eyes. Your abduction is now the last thing on your mind—little more than a distant thought—because no way in hell are you going to be intimidated by someone dressed like that.

He's wearing some kind of gold armor, decked out with buckles and plates and adorned with a sweeping green cape, hem dredged in an inch of dust. The boots he has on come up to his knees, fitted around a pair of brown pants that are oh so unflattering. You can tell he meant it to appear regal—elegant, even—but in all honesty, the entire get-up looks... well, fake.

It's by far the most ridiculous Halloween costume you've ever seen.

Between snickers, you manage to ask, "Who are you supposed to be?"

The man scowls at you, a black curl hanging over his face. God, his hair, don't even get you started on his hair. Like he drowned it in a vat of grease. "I don't know what you mean."

You gesture to his attire, one hand wiping the amused tears off your cheeks. "Your costume," you say, shaking with the remnants of your silent laughter. "What's it from? Never seen anything like it before."

"Of course you haven't, silly mortal," he sneers, and despite the ridiculousness of it all, you can't help but admire his dedication to staying in character. "I am Loki of Asgard. This isn't a costume."

"Okay, Loki of Asgard. Obviously I've offended you, but seriously? There's no way that's what you really wear. The only thing missing is, I dunno. A cool hat."

Just as you've finished saying it, a golden-horned helmet materializes on his head. Your eyes widen.

"What the—how'd you do that?"

Loki leans forward until his nose is but an inch from yours, arms caging you in against the wall. Your breath catches in your throat, and any urge you'd had to laugh has dissipated, the tears in your eyes scorched dry.

"I told you," he murmurs, breath fanning over your face. "Not a costume. Now, you're going to quit laughing, and do what I tell you. Whatever I tell you."

"Fine," you say after a moment of tense silence, somewhat shakily. Then, under your breath, "but you owe me a Snickers."