#calves in the stall

[scripture-pictures]

[wiirocku]

Malachi 4:2 (ESV) - But for you who fear My name, the Sun of Righteousness shall rise with healing in its wings. You shall go out leaping like calves from the stall.

[thatrandombystander]

There is no experience more frustrating than trying to shop for clothes in-person as a non-thin person. Truly hell on earth.

[emma-ofnormandy]

My husband won’t let me take on bum lambs from our friends and I’m not pleased.

I just want baby lambs again.

[bluelockmaniac]

SPLASH .ᐟ

ft. itoshi sae, itoshi rin, michael kaiser, mikage reo, seishiro nagi, & meguru bachira (honourable mention) x fem!reader

synopsis. showering & bathing with your bllk husbands !

content warning. sfw !! suggestive but not really (?) but obviously lots of nakedness ノ pet names ノ mentions of menustral period, blood, & cramps in rin’s part ノ you scare the shit out of rin ノ itoshi brothers call you insults affectionately ノ you might have smacked sae’s butt ノgentleman reo ノ they’re all crazy rich men obsessed with you .

notes. 5.6k words (approx. 1k+ each) !

𝜗𝜚 𝐈𝐓𝐎𝐒𝐇𝐈 𝐒𝐀𝐄

“hmm, this should do it!” you mused, a pleased smile gracing your lips as you admired your reflection in the vanity mirror. you twirled left and right, the rose-gold satin robe flowing gracefully like liquid gold as you checked yourself from every angle.

the silk was a recent gift from sae, one he had brought back from spain, and its smooth fabric clung loosely to your body.

tonight would be like every other night when your husband was home— you were ready to indulge in your routine— taking a shower with sae. initially, you were never the clingy type, but that all changed early in your marriage;

you had accidentally walked in on him under the assumption he was still at football practice, only to be met with the sight of him under the shower, water streaming down his sculpted body. you were flashed. though startled at first, he recovered pretty quickly and nonchalantly asked you to join him as if it was the most natural thing in the world. after all, it wasn’t like it was the first time you’d seen him naked, right?

your eyes flickered to the digital display on your mirror, noting the time and cool temperature. an idea occurred to you, and you decided that maybe after the shower, you could suggest a quick dip in the pool. the weather was nice and it wasn’t too late, either.

excitedly, you rushed into the master bathroom and swung the door loudly. you caught sight of him standing beneath the showerhead in the large shower enclosure, the droplets trailing down his well-built chest, then to his toned thighs and calves, and then finally pooling at his feet. the elder itoshi’s gaze met yours and he sighed, unfazed by your entrance— this had become routine for him, too.

his eyes travelled over to the smooth robe you were wearing, immediately recognizing it as the one he had gifted you. “you look beautiful,” he said simply as he reached to turn off the water and slid open the glass door.

“thank you,” you smiled as you began to undress. the silky material slipped off your shoulders easily, bunching up at your feet on the tiled floor. he extended his hand out toward you, and you took it, stepping into the shower stall.

“careful, don’t slip,” he warned.

you rolled your eyes, giving him a light smack on his rear, which made him frown slightly– he was usually the one doing that to you, not the other way around. you slid the door closed and retorted with a cheeky grin, “please, who do you think i am?”

he flicked your forehead gently and turned the water back on. “you say that every time but somehow still manage to slip, stupid.”

as the cool water hit your skin, you looked up at sae with a pout. “baby, the water’s too cold. i’ve told you before, i’d love it if you warmed it up whenever i enter.”

“yeah, yeah, what a spoiled princess,” he muttered, shooting you a half-assed glare before adjusting the temperature to your liking. you couldn’t help but smirk. there’s something you and only you could know— sae loved to spoil you like crazy during your showers, and that is precisely why you allowed yourself to play the role of a spoiled brat, knowing he would not mind and rather entertain it.

you wrapped your arms around his waist, looking up at him and purposely fluttering your soft lashes. he grunted, recognizing the familiar look of expectation in your serene eyes. he looked up at the shelf that held various bottles of shampoo, conditioner, and body wash. 

“which body wash do you want this time?” he asked, his hand hovering over the shelf, knowing you could be indecisive. “and no being picky.”

you tapped your finger against your lips, eyeing the different scents he had spoiled you with. “hmm, i want the coconut drift, pl–” before you could finish, he was already reaching for it, “actually, i want the raspberry dreamscape.”

he narrowed his teal eyes at you but complied anyway, grabbing your light blue loofah from the hook. he squirted the raspberry-scented body wash onto it, rubbing it until it lathered into a light pink foam. he sat down on the wide bench built into the wall, pulling you by the waist until you stood right between his legs.

you looked down at him with a gentle smile, sighing softly and resting your hands on his shoulders as he scrubbed from your neck down to your abdomen. he then turned you around to scrub your back.

“sae, i know you’re taking a peek,” you teased, glancing back at him over your shoulder.

“yeah, no shit. i’m scrubbing your pretty ass right now,” he replied casually, being particularly gentle on your cheeks.

smiling, you turned back around and reached for your cherry dew shampoo, pumping some into your hands. you lathered it up before sae stood up, holding your waist and lowering his head slightly so your fingers could reach his wet, reddish hair.

“smells like you,” he murmured as you massaged your shampoo into his scalp.

“good, you’ll think of me while you’re training.”

“i do that regardless.”

his words caught you off-guard, making you fumble slightly as you ruffled his hair. “r-right…” you stammered before quickly changing the subject. “—oh, i almost forgot, do you want to go outside? the weather’s nice.”

sae moved aside the damp strands of hair clinging to your skin and planted a light kiss on the side of your neck. “alright,”

as you followed him out of the enclosure, your wet foot accidentally slipped on the polished floor tiles. you panicked, squeezing your eyes shut, bracing yourself for the fall, but instead of hitting the solid floor, you felt a pair of strong hands catch you. sae steadied you and then handed you a towel to dry off.

“told you you’d manage to slip this time, too,” he added, slipping on his velvety, crimson robe with a smirk that only fueled your embarrassment.

“ugh…” you groaned as you wrapped yourself in your rose-gold robe. you looked up at him, then without a word, hugged him tightly. “carry me.”

he rolled his eyes, but you found yourself pressed up against his chest in less than a moment, his arms wrapped securely around you. your arms clung around his neck, and your legs linked tightly around his waist.

“why did i marry you, again?” he asked, pinching your side lightly.

you buried your face into the crook of his neck and he could feel you grin against his skin. “because you love me.”

“. . . unfortunately.”

𝜗𝜚 𝐈𝐓𝐎𝐒𝐇𝐈 𝐑𝐈𝐍

“i thought i told you to get up,” rin grumbled, looming over the bed where you were cuddled comfortably under the duvet. “you’re lucky i’m even taking time out of my day to help you.”

you burrowed yourself deeper into the bed, pulling the duvet over your head to avoid his gaze. “i don’t want to move!” you protested, and even that subtle movement sent a sharp pain through your abdomen, making you wince at your cramps’ unbearable pain. “and besides, that's the bare minim–”

unimpressed, rin rolled his eyes and yanked the blanket off your face, gently lifting you up into his arms. your legs dangled over his elbows as he held you close. “i’ve already prepared the bath.” he said softly.

you tried to resist, throwing weak punches at his chest with your fists, but it was no use. you gave up and fell limp against his chest. the pain was too much, too uncomfortable, and the idea of being spoiled by your husband, even for a little while, was pretty tempting. 

still, you weren’t going to surrender completely without a fight. as you buried your face into his chest, an ominous smile tugged at your lips— a smile rin which knew all too well, one that made him visibly nervous. it was the kind of smile that meant you had something up your sleeve.

“i don’t know what you’re thinking of, but seriously, forget it,” he warned, eyeing you suspiciously. you responded by giving him an innocent kiss on the cheek, causing him to pause and narrow his turquoise eyes. “dammit.”

your husband set you down on the bathroom counter and began unbuttoning your floral pajama top, pulling it over your head. you gripped the edge of the counter for support, tipping your head back slightly as he leaned in to plant a soft kiss onto your neck. 

while rin busied himself with discarding the rest of your clothes, you slyly reached out and grabbed the white, gold-rimmed bin filled up with lotions, moisturizers, essential oils, and various other bath products. pretty normal, nothing suspicious so far. you peered into it, a giggle escaping your lips as you spotted this evening’s target: a bath bomb.

but this time, its colour was red.

“stop giggling at nothing, you weirdo,” he chided, scooping you carefully into his arms. his expression softened as he noticed how tightly your fingers gripped onto him, and the way your eyes squeezed shut in discomfort. “sorry, did that hurt?”

“n-no, i’m fine,” you reassured him. rin nodded, lowering you gently into the large, pre-prepared bath. it was just the way you liked it during your painful time of the month— warm, bordering on hot, with medium-sized bubbles floating on the surface.

“i’ll bring your favourite chocolate in a bit,” he said, gently lapping the water toward you before attempting to withdraw and leave. “call my name if you need anything, i’ll be outs— shit.”

it happened too fast for him to react. before he could finish his sentence, you grabbed his arm with whatever strength you had left and pulled him into the bath with you. he fell into the water with a loud splash, soaking him completely. for a hot moment, the bathroom was filled with awkward silence and the sound of water settling around you.

rin sat there, his stretchy navy shirt and black, knee-high shorts clinging to his body, drenched and dripping. he closed his eyes, one hand covering his face like a visor as he tried to calm himself. his other hand rested on the slippery surface of the tub for support.

you bit your lip, struggling to stifle a giggle as you crawled through the water towards him, pushing his knees apart so you could sit on his lap.

“i think it’s unfair that you still have your clothes on while i’m… y’know,” you pouted.

he threw you a glare, his hands gripping your waist as he tried to push you away, but you wouldn’t budge. “i fucking knew there was something wrong with your sudden obedience,” he scoffed, throwing his head back against the rim of the tub in surrender. you took the opportunity to hook your legs under his thighs and peel the shirt over his head.

“i’ll leave your shorts on…” you paused, raising an eyebrow suggestively. “—unless?”

“no.”

“yeah– thought so.”

settling against his chest, you felt his large hands move to rub berry blossom body wash into his palms. he placed both hands on your waist, sliding them up and down your sides before his fingers began tracing lazily patterns along your back.

you softly sighed and rested your chin on his upper chest, looking as blissful as ever. rin was almost tempted to lean down and kiss you until you were gasping for air, but you beat him to it. linking your arms around his neck, you slotted your mouth against his. he reciprocated, but not before pinching your side lightly, just enough to squirm in his grasp.

unbeknownst to him, however, your arm had slithered around and rummaged quietly through the white bin until it found a soft, round object. you smiled against his mouth, then subtly dropped the red bath bomb into the water with a quiet splash.

“f-fuck…” you whimpered suddenly, breaking the kiss and clutching your stomach as your face contorted—eyes squinting—in feigned pain.

rin’s brows furrowed in confusion, and he instinctively adjusted his position to grip onto your shoulders in concern. “what’s wrong? you okay?”

you didn’t respond, instead blinking up at him with half-closed eyes once, then twice, before letting your eyelids slip shut and beginning to breathe softly.

“y/—” one could say his heart practically stopped beating at that moment, his eyes widening as he watched the water around you cloud with a sweet cherry red dye. it also definitely did not help that you decided it was a good idea to fall limp onto his chest, though you were clearly breathing normally.

was your monthly bleeding supposed to be this excessive?

“w-what the fuck!” he fretted in horror as he shook your shoulders forcefully, his hand trembling as he patted your cheek, trying to get you to meet his gaze. your eyes were bleary, yet they still had their usual shine. “is this fucking normal? are you going to bleed to death? should i call for help–??”

over the course of your marriage, you had never seen rin panic like this. in the ten-plus years of knowing him, this was the first time you’d witnessed him so completely consumed by worry for you. typically, rin kept his emotions under control, reacting subtly to any situation. but now, as the vivid colour surrounded you both, you could see the raw concern surfacing on his face.

of course, a large part of you felt guilty— wondering if maybe you’d gone a tad bit too far this time. the last thing you wanted was for him to fall ill or lose focus during his next game because of the stress you caused.

unable to hold it back any longer, you let out the laugh you’d been suppressing, and rin’s expression immediately shifted from panic to deadpan. like, literally. immediately. just that stupid giggle of yours was all it took for him to realize he had managed to fall for one of your traps yet again— this time, in the most ridiculous way possible.

he simply stood up without a word and kicked the lumpy, fizzing bath bomb away. then, with water dripping down his tight-to-skin shorts, he stepped out of the tub.

“wait, rin—” you called out from behind, your hands gripping the rim of the tub as you tried to sit up.

he glanced over his shoulder with an unreadable expression as he dried himself with a towel. you noticed the faint pink tint on his cheeks, likely from the lingering embarrassment and panic. after all, even if your bleeding had been heavy, there was no way the dye would’ve been that saturated in such a large tub.

“...i’m going to say this one more time,” he said calmly, “call me if you need anything or if you want to leave the tub so i can bathe you,” he walked slowly back to you, bending down until his face was close to yours.

“i’m sor–” you started to apologize, but he cut you off.

“and one more thing,” he added, cupping your face gently in his hands. “you scared me to death, you fool. i fucking love you. don’t do that again.”

before you could respond, he sealed his lips against yours. it was safe to say you decided then and there that you wouldn’t pull that particular prank again— at least, not without the promise that he’d shower with you as part of the deal, of course.

𝜗𝜚 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐄𝐋 𝐊𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐑

friday had finally arrived– the long-awaited end to an exhausting week. to you, it usually meant you had all the time in the world to pamper yourself and indulge in self-care. heavy emphasis on usually, because unfortunately, this wasn’t always the case when you had an extremely insufferable (but annoyingly loveable) husband.

if there was one thing kaiser excelled at— besides hurling terrifyingly creative insults at people he barely knew and dominating the football field— it was his nonstop teasing.

you stepped into your spacious master bathroom with a soft towel embroidered with delicate begonia patterns tucked snugly under your arm. your shoulders felt unbearably stiff, and your back throbbed with ache. the thought of dipping your leg into the hot, bubbly bath you had prepared earlier was quite literally the only thing keeping you upright.

finally, your body made contact with the euphoric warmth as you lowered yourself into the wide, glossy marble bathtub positioned near the window. the heat of the water instantly began to soothe your sore muscles, and you let out a content sigh, leaning back against the built-in backrest.

oh, it was going to be so relaxing. would have been, if kaiser hadn’t suddenly barged into the washroom without so much as a courtesy knock— though knowing him, you doubted he even considered such things. the sudden intrusion made you flinch and pulled you out of the comfortable state you’d just begun to enjoy.

“knock before you enter, stupid,” you snapped, shooting him a glare as you sank deeper into the frothy water until only the top half of your head peeked out.

kaiser shut the door behind him and stood there practically naked. your eyes trailed down the path of pearly beads of water that teasingly trickled down his toned chest with no shame. the white cotton towel that hung loosely around his waist threatened to unravel and reveal what’s hidden beneath with the slightest blow of the wind.

“you’re really soaking in here all by yourself after i told you i wanted to join you, prinzessin?” he rolled his eyes, but with no real irritation in his voice as he sauntered toward you. his fingers deftly unhooked the towel from his waist, nonchalantly tossing it into the hamper.

you pushed yourself back up, fingers gripping the edge of the bathtub for support before wiping your face with your palms, water droplets sliding down your cheeks. raising a brow, you asked, “mihya– are you seriously planning to get in even after you’ve clearly just showered?”

you watched as he slipped into the tub, settling in front of you. his head leaned back against the cool marble edge, arms casually draped along the sides of the bathtub.

“that was just the rinse i always take after football practice,” he explained lazily, “is it really so terrible to want to bathe with my beautiful wife?”

you let out an exaggerated sigh, trying to hide the smile that was tugging at the corners of your lips from his compliment– though he tended to throw that one your way frequently.

“you’re so annoying,” you laughed, slowly crawling across the slippery surface of the tub toward him. your hands settled on his broad shoulders as you guided yourself onto his bare lap. “now i don’t even have room to stretch my legs.”

his tattooed hand, adorned with the blue crown, came to rest on your waist. though, unfortunately, you were oblivious to the subtle movement of his other hand, instead nestling your head against his chest.

it felt so serene— until it wasn’t.

seriously, what could possibly go wrong while you’re comfortably straddling your husband’s lap, eyes sewn shut, head on his chest as you try to continue your weekly post-work relaxation session?

apparently, everything.

in an instant, a jolt of freezing cold water slammed onto your back, each drop hitting you like a small brick. your eyes flew open and a loud gasp was drawn from you as you shot upright, instinctively scrambling away from him. you nearly slipped on the slick surface in the process as you tried to escape the showerhead above you. who thought it was a good idea to combine a bathtub with a shower, anyway?

“michael!” you whined, seeking warmth under the foamy blanket of sea. “that was cruel…”

he grinned, reaching over to turn off the water, which had started to drench him, too.

“sorry, meine liebe,” he cooed, moving to your side and pressing a gentle, almost apologetic kiss to your trembling shoulders. “i heard cold water’s great for sore muscles.”

“you and i both know that’s not why you did it,” you shot back, narrowing your eyes at him.

he raised his hands in mock surrender, his grin widening as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you closer until your cheek pressed against his chest.

“hmm. well, you know, if i’m feeling generous, i might give you a life-changing massage or even treat you to your favourite food if y—”

“life-ending massage, you mean. you nearly crushed my bones last time– i literally felt my soul leaving my body.” you paused for emphasis before adding, “and i'm getting my food without any ‘ifs’.”

he chuckled and stood up with a smirk, the water sliding off his exposed body as he stepped out of the tub. he grabbed his simple towel and slung it over his shoulder before glancing back at you.

“fine, but i won’t order anything– i’ll cook.”

your heart sank. his cooking was nothing short of life-threatening.

“god, please, no!”

𝜗𝜚 𝐌𝐈𝐊𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐎

“sorry, sweetheart, let me just…” reo murmured, draping a silky, red fabric over your eyes, tying it securely behind your head. “there we go, baby. can you see anything?”

“no, reo,” you replied with a small shake of your head as your hand hovered uncertainly in the air, searching for his. 

a soft laugh escaped his lips before reaching out to thread his fingers in your hand. you could only weakly map out every subtle turn in your mind as he led you somewhere in your mansion. finally, he came to a stop, causing you to bump into his firm back.

your toes flexed and unflexed, feeling the plush carpet beneath you. the texture was familiar, and you quickly recognized that he had brought you to the grand bathroom adjacent to the balcony on the upper level of your mansion.

“ready?” he asked, the double doors creaking softly as he opened them. he turned back to you, fingers curling around your wrist, pulling you in. “i’m taking your blindfold off, sweetheart.”

as the velvety fabric slipped off and fluttered noiselessly to the carpet, your eyes widened in awe. a gasp escaped past your parted, plump lips as you took in the almost surreal sight in front of you.

“baby, you didn’t have to…”

you entered the large, steamy room and the warmth of the automatically heated floor, immediately seeped into your feet. in the corner of the washroom, the jacuzzi tub was filled to the brim with fluffy clouds of white foam, and was decorated with delicate red rose petals scattered everywhere like confetti. and to make things even more romantic, vanilla-scented candles were lit on the flat edges of the tub.

your gaze shifted to a small glass table beside the tub, where a bubble machine quietly hummed classical music and released shimmering bubbles into the air. 

“do you like it?” his voice interrupted your silent admiration, and you quickly turned around, a sheepish smile spreading across your face. you locked your arms around his neck, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

“i… i love it,” you whispered. your eyes wafted back toward the jacuzzi and you moved toward it. “thank you, reo.”

he smiled, a gentle curve of his lips that reached his eyes as he rested a reassuring hand on your shoulder. his fingers began to work from behind, unzipping the back of your fitted dress and pulling the delicate material down. “anything for my favourite lady.”

the cool air soon kissed your bare skin; dress and undergarments neatly folded by reo and set aside in the walk-in closet adjoining the bathroom. heat rose to your cheeks as you stood there, exposed. though he had seen you naked countless times before, it had always managed to leave you flustered.

your head hung low, eyes fixed down on the marble tiles beneath you as you crossed your arms over your chest, each hand on the opposite shoulder.

he noticed your bashful demeanor and chuckled softly. his hands found their place on your waist, and he bent down slightly to press slow, sweet kisses along your collarbone. you stared down at him lovingly, hands coming up to card through his soft, amethyst hair. the feeling of his lips trailing across your skin made your breath hitch, and when planted a singular, feather-light kiss on the bottom curve of your breast, your eyes fluttered shut. he straightened up to properly look at you, a grin playing at his lips.

“what, you nervous?” he teased, ruffling your hair affectionately. “smile for me, yeah? my beautiful angel.”

you opened your eyes, looking at him shyly. “stop it… you’re embarrassing me.”

he rolled his eyes playfully, his fingers reaching up to loosen his tie when you suddenly stopped him.

“i’m going to undress you.” you stated firmly, your fingers already skillfully loosening the silky tie and sliding it over his head before beginning to work on the black buttons of his suit.

“t-that’s…” his voice faltered, and he could not suppress the rosy pink tint from spreading across his pale cheeks. the sight of your focused expression– your squinted, dreamy eyes and the way your lips tucked under your teeth as you undid his clothing left him flustered.

it made his heart swell from the overwhelming realization of how much he loved you. how had he gotten so lucky, he wondered, to be with someone as lovely and gentle as you, let alone marry you?

“there, all done!” you exclaimed with a satisfied smile as you gave his firm abs a gentle pat.

“i’m going to make you undress me every single time now, no complaints,” he chuckled, grabbing your hand and helping you into the jacuzzi. the two of you settled beside each other, sinking into the rose-petal-littered, bubbly water.

reo pulled you in closer to him until your bodies were nuzzled together, aligned inch-to-inch. he let out a deep, relaxed sigh, about to throw his head back when he noticed you scooping up a handful of foamy water mixed with a few rose petals, the water seeping from between the gaps of your fingers.

you gave him a cheeky grin as you hovered your hands above his head and released the blooms, letting them fall delicately onto his hair.

he laughed and plucked a petal from his head, pressing it near your collarbone until it stuck. “sorry, gorgeous, but these petals look much better on you,”

he leaned in and pecked your soft lips. one by one, he began to pick up individual petals, carefully sticking each one all over your body, as if adorning you with pretty rubies. his lips followed each placement, planting a tender kiss on every petal he laid on your skin. the whole time, he maintained eye contact with you, those half-lidded orchid eyes making the blood rush rapidly to your cheeks.

satisfied, he reached over and picked up a nearby moveable silver-rimmed mirror and handed it to you, showing you your petal-covered body.

“see? aren’t you just the prettiest?”

𝜗𝜚 𝐒𝐄𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐎 𝐍𝐀𝐆𝐈

“sei, i’m serious— if you fall asleep one more time, i’ll leave you in the tub alone,” you warned almost seriously, patting his cheek gently to rouse him. his heavy eyelids fluttered, and you could see the sleep creeping back as he began to slip beneath the water again.

the giant of a man’s broad back was pressed firmly against your chest as your fingers worked their mystique across his fatigued muscles. you kneaded at his shoulders, and fisted at his back, pressing his muscles gently. it wasn’t that he was sore– no. this had become a habit, something he looked forward to after a draining football practice or game.

your massages were the best of the best, his personal heaven, the kind that always managed to lull him to the brink of sleep. he had tried numerous massages from professional masseuses before you two got married, but none could ever compare to the sorcery of your hands.

“noo, i’ll drownnn…” his voice was a whine slurred with sleep. he blinked his bleary eyes before lazily readjusting his position. 

“then wake up! you’re heavier when you’re sleeping!” you scolded, poking at his shoulders.

“’kay…” he muttered, but you knew better. as expected, no sooner had he mumbled his agreement than his eyes clamped shut again, his head nodding forward. you grunted softly and wiggled out from under him, carefully removing his weight from your lap.

with some effort, you managed to move your husband, pulling him upright so he could be seated properly against the cool, black granite wall of the pool.

“hmph,” you huffed, shoving your hand underwater before splashing his sleepy face with a huge wave of water. he flinched awake and nearly lost his footing on the slippery pool floor, his hands shooting out to hold onto the edge to steady himself. “you asked for it, dummy.”

he groaned and rubbed his face with a grumpy expression. “y’play so unfairly, baby,” he muttered. his long arm reached out and, before you could react, grabbed your wrist, effortlessly pulling you against his chest. your hands were suddenly pressed against his sculpted abdomen. his large hands cupped your cheeks gently, tilting your head to the left, then the right, then back again as if inspecting you.

“hm, something’s different ‘bout you,” he mused, burying his nose into the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent with a satisfied hum. “ah. new shampoo…?” he leaned back slightly, comically raising his head to the crystal chandelier above, as if deep in thought. “strawberry elixir?”

your eyes widened in surprise. if there was one thing that amazed you about nagi, it was his uncanny observance despite his notorious laziness. you had bought the expensive shampoo just a few days ago and only today had you used it for the first time, when you showered before entering the bath.

it may be the sort of detail people would quickly notice but perhaps that was the special privilege he granted to the person he loved. for you, he gave you the rare gift of his focused attention.

you couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head in amusement. leaning in, you pressed a long kiss to his lips, which he lazily reciprocated. “that’s not going to make me forgive you, you know,” you murmured against his mouth, though your smile betrayed the truth.

he groaned, shifting his gaze to the scented oil bottles lined along the rim of the hot tub. without much thought, he blinked slowly and shrugged, reaching for the bottle labeled lavender dream. carelessly, he poured the entire contents into the water, the strong fragrance immediately filling the bathroom.

“nagi!” you cried, eyes wide in horror. “you don’t just add oil directly to water! they won’t mix!”

he paused, staring at the tiny droplets of oil floating on the surface before glancing down at the guilty-looking empty bottle in his hands. “oh. you’re right.”

“don’t just–!”

“uh… i have an idea,” he muttered, calmly ruffling your hair. you watched as he pushed himself up and out of the hot tub (you’re amazed he took the initiative to do something himself) and walked to the controller wall, completely unbothered by the fact he was butt-naked.

at the click of one rectangular button, the jets at the bottom of the tub immediately activated and powerful streams of water began to come from underneath, kneading at your muscles.

a delightful sigh left your lips as nagi slid back beside you, wrapping his muscular arms around your waist from behind and rested his chin on your shoulder.

“see, baby?” he murmured, trailing his fingers over the water, feeling the water ripple over his skin. “the oil’ll disappear sooner or later, m’kay?”

you nodded your head, slightly but not fully convinced. you turned around to hug him, closing your eyes. “sure… but i’ll just use one of the guest bathrooms if it doesn’t.”

“we’ll.” 

he added too quickly for a man like him. he needed your massages after all– not the jets which, while comforting, did not come close enough to the way your hands worked.

you rolled your eyes playfully and smiled, “yes, yes, together.”

just then, the large television mounted on the porcelain-tiled wall turned on, drawing your attention. you turned your head to find nagi waving the remote with a subtle grin.

“wanna watch a movie and cuddle?”

𝗛𝗢𝗡𝗢𝗨𝗥𝗔𝗕𝗟𝗘 𝗠𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡

𝐌𝐄𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐀 and baths go so well together because they are so silly. you can always find him at the shower control panel, playing with the settings until the outline of the tub glowed in ethereal colours of topaz and quartz and emerald.

also, the bath would inevitably become a sea of yellow rubber duckies because he thinks they're cute and they match his hair! he does leave the cleanup to you, though :(

besides, this man would be so indecisive when it comes to water temperature. one minute it’s icy cold, the next it’s scorching hot, only to swing to cold again because, well, he felt like it! the two of you would end up dancing in the water like goofs, splashing and kicking at each other because no one is watching you in your private yard– but you’re sure he’d do it in front of many eyes anyway.

one of his favourite games is to try and carry you on his back as he swims around the tub. despite your repeated warnings that he’d sink under the combined weight, he’d insist on trying, each attempt failing worse than the previous.

but the best part? even though you’re both naked, baths and showers with him were about anything but sexual. he sees you naked– okay? lovely! let’s see who could hold their breath the longest underwater.

© 2024 bluelockmaniac — do not repost, copy, translate, modify, etc my work on any platform !

[bunnis-monsters]

Sacrificial Heifer

Bull Hybrids x Cow Hybrid!Reader

Commissioned by: @yuriohoe04

WC: 1k

A/N: Only 2 more slots for my commissions rn! Make sure to get them while you can. Once my comms are closed I won’t be opening them again until all my comms are finished ^^

Warnings: dubcon, breeding, lactation, pregnancy, gangbang

🥛 🥛🥛🥛🥛🥛🥛🥛🥛🥛🥛🥛🥛🥛🥛🥛🥛

It had been a week since the farmer announced that you and your barn mates were ready to be bred for the first time.

At first, the lot of you were excited, some even ovulating and ready to breed. One of your friends had her tail lifted up, and it swayed softly as she sighed.

“Can’t you imagine it, being bred by a handsome bull? Do you think they’d want to settle and become mates?”

You rolled your eyes, swatting her thigh with your tail. “Not likely. Most bulls are just looking for a heifer to breed and toss aside for the next one. You’ll be lucky if they give you more than a few minutes of your time.”

An older cow had warned you many times that bulls liked to play with young heifers’ hearts, and that if you wanted to live a peaceful life on the farm, then you’d just breed and go about your day.

That’s what you told yourself out of fear of getting your heart broken… until the day finally came to breed.

All the other heifers were filling themselves up, brushing out their hair and tidying themselves up. The pheromones wafting through the barn were thick, almost stifling.

This all changed when the bulls walked in. They were big, bulky, and honestly? Terrifying.

They walked in with confidence, eyeing the new heifers with keen, sharp eyes that told you they were more than experienced when it came to breeding.

“Alright, who’s first?”

All the heifers shivered at the authoritative tone of voice. They had never been spoken to in such a way. The farmers they’ve had in the past had always been gentle, giving their bottoms hearty slaps as they herded them into the barn.

These bulls didn’t look like they even knew what the word gentle meant. They knew how to work with an inexperienced heifer, how to breed them into submission and stuff them full of cum.

You looked on with a mix of nervousness and curiosity. The bulls were definitely handsome, and despite their rough way of speaking, the way they tried their best to look a bit smaller told you that maybe they weren’t as bad as you had been told.

Before you could retreat to observe them from the back of the stall, you were shoved out into an open space, landing in the arms of one of the bulls.

“A volunteer. Cute one too.”

You yelped as your ass was groped, the bull squeezing it lightly before inspecting your face. “Little heifer, no need to be nervous. Gonna put a calf in you, alright?”

“Quite small, ain’t she?”

Another bull approached you from behind, lifting up your tail to get a better look at your fat ass. “Perfectly plump too. Got them child bearing hips… mmm…”

The feeling of a cock rubbing against your panties made your body freeze up. They both cooed at you, already able to sense your pheromones spiking. “Someone’s begging to be fucked silly, huh?”

One of the bulls traced circles over your clothed clit, laughing as you blubbered our half hearted pleas for them to let you go. “Hush, heifer. You’re soaking my hand, gotta breed that fat cunt of yours.”

Before long you were being hoisted up, a big fat cock pushing against your pussy. It was huge, and you were sure it would tear your body in two!

“Sure this little thing can take it?” another bull asked, this one playing with your clit as the other two bulls prepped your hole. “Smallest heifer in the herd I’ve seen so far…”

“She’ll take it.”

And with that, he rutted into you, stretching your fat pussy out as he bounced you on his cock. It was painful at first, tears prickling in the corners of your eyes, but your body was built for this. You were made to be bred by bulls, to get pregnant and produce milk and calves.

You felt your pussy gush as he fucked into you, biting into your shoulder. “That’s it, baby. Cream on my cock, lemme hear you cry out for me.”

You were passed around by the bulls, feeling so full and happy. As you were bent over and groped by another bull, you let out the prettiest of moans.

“God, that’s it, that’s a good heifer. Take my load, fuck…”

A bull took one of your nipples into his mouth, suckling as another mounted and bred you thoroughly. Before you were a virgin, and now you were being fucked by so many different cocks that you could barely think.

They rolled you onto your tummy, lifting your ass into the air and eating the cum out of your pussy, wanting to give you a nice and fresh creampie and hoping their’s would be the load to impregnate your fertile womb.

All the other heifer’s watched in awe and jealousy as the bulls kept their attention on you, unable to spare a second glance to the others. You were so cute, a small, chubby little heifer that was perfect for beating calves. How the hell were they supposed to breed anyone else when you were bouncing on their cocks?

By the end of the breeding session, your belly was distended, stuffed full of cum. None of the other heifers were bred because the bulls were way too busy doting on you after they all got a turn.

Now, as your belly began to swell with a calf and your tits got heavy and full, the bulls couldn’t help but cum all over and in you. Your pretty mouth and pussy was always keeping someone’s cock nice and warm.

Drinking milk from your fat and heavy tits was the best part of their day. They had to test your milk to make sure it was high quality… and they also just wanted to suck on your nipples.

After all, you were their perfect little breeding cow. None of the other heifers compared to you, none as sweet and soft and pretty. If anyone had a problem, they could take it up with the bulls.

You sat on your bed, being fed strawberries as your belly was massaged.

Maybe that older cow was wrong, because these bulls adored you with their entire heart… and you were excited to be thoroughly bred again once you gave birth.

You were a cow hybrid after all, and needed to produce lots of milk and calves. Being a breeding cow was your job…

And you were damn good at it.

——————

NSFW TAGLIST: @sunset-214 @strawberrypoundtown @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @unforgettablewhvre @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @murder-hobo @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @keikokashi @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @spicyspicyliving @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @honey-crypt @karljra @zyettemoon1800 @exodiam @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @buckoothecow @binnieonabike @enchantedsylveon @mysticranger575 @readeryn68 @danielle143

[mariasont]

Tie a Tie - S.R

a/n: i'm a slut for a good tie

masterlist

₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

pairings: spencer reid x bimbo!receptionist!reader

summary: you ask spencer to teach you how to tie a tie

warnings: cuties being cute!

wc: 1.2k

"How do you tie a tie?" 

The question and the voice attached to it made Spencer do a double take, his pencil pausing mid-stroke. He directed he gaze upward, and there you were. Beside his desk. Looking angelic as ever.

Today, your hair was embellished with ribbons, pretty pink bows tied neatly above your two braids. It was cute.

You hardly visited at his desk, in fact, this might be the first time. He had always been the one to seek you out at your receptionist desk.

He realized the lapse in conversation had gone on longer than what social norms dictate. He cleared his throat and reached up to rub his neck, offering you sheepish yet attentive look. 

"Do I have something on my face?" The question came with an uncharacteristic frown that didn't suit you. A shimmering nail reached up, brushing your cheek as he fought the urge to replace your hand with his.

"No, no sorry," he assured quickly, a sense of equilibrium returning as your mouth flipped into a bright smile. "Just--, you want to know how to tie a tie?"

His intention wasn't to question you, but he was curious. What did you need to know how to tie a tie for? The answer seemed clear, yet unwelcome, as he begrudgingly considered the possibility of a significant other in your life, leaving a sour taste in his mouth.

"Yes," you affirmed, nodding like one of those dashboard bobbleheads, sending your ribbons dancing. "There's this outfit on Pinterest that I wanted to recreate, but it needs a tie, and well, I immediately thought of you, Dr. Reid. You're the tie expert, after all. I know you're super busy, so it's totally okay if now isn't a good time, but maybe you could text me? Or write it down, or--" 

The tension dissipated from his frame, and he interjected with a soft smile. "Yeah, no problem at all. I'll teach you," he said, rising to grab an empty chair. He placed it opposite his, motioning for you to take a seat. "And please, It's Spencer."

He doesn't know how many times he's told you that Dr. Reid sounded too formal coming from you. 

"Oh, right, Spencer." They way his name rolled off your tongue sent a wave of warmth through him. You bit your lip, crossing one leg over the other, the tip of your kitten heel brushing his calve in the process. "Thank you so much. I tried to watch YouTube tutorials, but it wasn't really working out."

"It's no problem," he said, trying to keep his cool as his surveyed the vacant office, immensely grateful the team was out on a case, and he was left behind to work on documents. 

It wasn't that he was embarrassed by you, he would be an idiot to feel that way. He was embarrassed by how utterly out of control he felt around you. "Uh, here--"

His hands moved with practiced ease, a brief hesitation passing before he placed it around your neck. Your smile was disarming, compelling him to avert his gaze to prevent any impulsive actions. Gently, he swept your hair aside at the nape of your neck, careful not to entangle it with the fabric.

Spencer's fingers stalled, suspended over the smooth silk encircling you. The awareness of your focused gaze was palpable, almost tangible.

"Okay," he started, his tone even despite the butterflies attacking at his stomach. "The first thing you need to do is cross the long end over the short end, like this."

He illustrated the motion, his hands lightly skimming over your collarbone, eliciting a soft giggle from the unexpected tickle.

"Like this?" you repeated, your tongue making a brief appearance against your pink stained lips, trying to follow his lead.

"Exactly," he confirmed with a nod, smile inching across his face. "Now you bring the long end up through the loop around your neck."

His touch was light on the fabric, his fingertips just grazing the skin below your ear, a reaction visible in the slight shiver that traveled over you, goosebumps taking over. 

You watched his every move, your head tilting to the side, a lock of hair falling into your face. "And then?"

"Now, you fold it down through the knot you've just made." Spencer's voice was soft, almost a whisper, as he focused on the task at hand. "Pull it all the way though, and then adjust the tightness by holding the short end and sliding the knot up."

With his guidance, you managed to complete the knot. "I did it!"

The excitement in your eyes was infectious, and he felt the rosy hue take over his face, a blush he couldn't contain at the sight of you. His laughter spilled out in response.

"You're a quick learner." His hands remained on the tie, a touch too long, maybe. 

The intrusive ring of his phone fractured the moment, like a glass dropping on hard ground. He glanced at the caller ID--Hotch, of course--and sighed.

"Sorry, I have to take this."

"It's okay. Thank you for the help, Spencer."

--

Spencer almost died the moment you entered the bullpen the next morning, almost toppling over and dying of asphyxiation because of how easily you took his breath away.

There you were, in what he could only deduce was the Pinterest inspired outfit, a pink tie neatly arranged around your neck, its tail slipped into the waistband of your skirt.

"Spencer, you forgot your tie yesterday," you called out, extending the forgotten piece of fabric with a smile.

A red akin to a ripe strawberry bloomed across Spencer's face as he watched Morgan and Prentiss freeze mid-step, exchanging knowing looks as they glanced between you two.

"Reid, what's this about a tie?" 

Of course, Morgan was butting in, because it just wouldn't be a normal day of work if he wasn't.

"It's not--We didn't--," he faltered, his eyes meeting yours, finding an innocent cluelessness to the implications around them. Opting to dismiss the others, he focused on you, taking the tie with hands that weren't quite steady. "I mean, thank you."

You simply beamed at him.

"Do you like my outfit?" you asked, doing a little twirl that made the hem of your skirt flare out. He had to avert his eyes, knowing that the way he was looking you over would certainly not be perceived as innocent. "I got your text with the instructions. It was so sweet because I definitely did not remember everything you said yesterday. It gets kind of confusing with all the steps."

He was momentarily lost for words. "It's... you look... amazing."

Spencer was still fumbling for words when you stepped closer, the soft scent of your perfume wrapping around him.

"Well, it's all thanks to you."

Before he could respond, your rose onto the balls of your feet and planted a gentle kiss on his cheek. It was quick, innocent, but it left his knees feeling like they might buckle

As you pulled away, his skin tingled where your lips had been, and he stood there, utterly dumbstruck, his face a canvas painted with various shades of pink.

Morgan stared at him, his eyebrows raised in silent question, but Spencer didn't care. For a short moment, he didn't care about anything else--not the case files, not the teasing of his colleagues, not the world outside. There was only the warmth on his cheek and the sudden lightness in his chest. 

He decided this was his new lucky tie. 

taglist: @hotchhner @khxna

[misctf]

I’m a Latino twink and I just got accepted into Alpha Delta Alpha but my fraternity brothers have been acting weird around me and I’ve overheard them talking about their “lost brother” and how something is “an abomination and needs to be fixed” there’s a party tonight and they’ve lent me some clothes I don’t want to wear them in case it’s some kind of prank

“Are you all fuckin’ serious?” Garrett Thompson cursed angrily, “Bros, what the actual fuck were you thinkin’?

“Dude, we tried our best!” One of his bros replied.

“Yeah! It wasn’t fuckin’ easy, bro.”

Garrett groaned and rubbed his temples. How could this be happening? How could... He figured it must’ve started at last year’s rager. One day, he’s a party animal. Lady’s man. Campus stud. Fuck, he lived quite the life. Then suddenly he’s a ghost. Some kind of accident. Total tragedy. Trapped between this world and the next. Just wandering around campus. Unseen, unheard, and worst of all- unable to get off. Months passed and as he wandered the frat house...

“Yooo bruh...” Jamie saw him, his eyes red from smoking weed, “Garrett is that you? So good to see you man.”

After months of not being seen, Garrett couldn’t believe it. Of course the stoner bro would make first contact. And Jaime- all too willing to delve into the occult- quickly started doing his research. Telling the other frat bros about Garrett.

“Dudes, hear me out.” Jaime slurred one night, “I know how to bring Garrett back.”

Garrett watched their plan unfold. Jaime rambling about some kind of magic and finding the perfect vessel. They would need some kind of anchor for Garrett’s spirit. He watched as they rummaged through old bins in their frat house and found his old jersey and clothes. Apparently getting some poor dumbass to wear his clothes would be all he needed to rejoin the living. But then things stalled. No one wanted to join Alpha Delta Alpha after Garrett’s accident. And no one wanted to wear some dead guy’s clothes. So, Garrett started to lose hope. Until...

“No fuckin’ way.” Garrett had thought when he saw you join the frat, “Bros!” He tried to yell, “You can’t let some fairy join! Dudes!”

But it was too late. When you joined, the frat was clearly uncomfortable. You weren’t exactly their ideal applicant. Lean and gay, you were certainly a first for Alpha Delta Alpha. And if the plan failed... well they’d be stuck with you... But it wasn’t just that. Some felt uncomfortable with the true purpose of you joining. Jaime’s plan was seen as an abomination by a few of them. But you largely ignored both the weird feelings you got and strange conversations you’d overhear tidbits of. Besides, they were your brothers.

And so when they came to you with some old clothes and told you to wear them, you did just that. After some initial hesitation, you stripped and picked up a jock strap. It was dirty, and carried a stale smell of sweat and cum. You cringed as you slowly pulled it up your legs, securing it around your cock and bubble butt.

“Fuck yeah.” Garrett said, watching you from the corner of the room. He grinned as he floated over and placed a hand on your cock, his eyes widening. It was brief, but he could actually feel the cloth of the jockstrap.  

You turned to inspect the other clothes, shifting uncomfortably at the sensation from your dick. Your tan cock started to lighten in color, becoming white with a thick, pink head. And as your bubble butt lost its padding and became thick with muscle, your cock started to grow. Inch after inch, it eventually settled on 5 inches soft. But you barely noticed these initial changes as you pulled up the basketball shorts. As they traversed your legs, the melanin in your skin broke down, turning your legs white. But it wasn’t just your skin that was changing. A forest of wiry leg hairs burst forth into existence, covering your now increasingly muscular calves and thighs. And as the shorts settled on your waist, you let out a moan.

“Fuck, he’s really enjoin’ this.” Garrett mumbled, watching as your muscular ass made contact with the bed, “Of course he is. Becomin’ a real fuckin’ man.” He grinned and sat next to you. His ghostly hand on your leg, “It’s basically jerking off.” He reassured himself as he wrapped his hand around your new cock.

You let out a moan as your cock hardened and bulged in your pants. You were always a bottom, rarely caring much about your cock. But now? Fuckkkkkkk.... It felt so good. Your mouth was agape, drool pooling as pleasure overwhelmed your brain. You hadn’t felt pleasure like this since you bottomed last. And in your haze, you looked down to see a hand. A ghostly hand.

“What?” Your eyes widened when you saw Garrett, “Oh fuck!”

Garrett pulled his hand away, “Dude! Shit! You can see me?” He could see the terror in your eyes, that only seemed to grow when he noticed his legs, “Okay, bruh... just chill.”

“No, no, no!” You say, “I...I...!”

“Stop fuckin’ talking and put the shirt on, bro.” Garrett insists, “Dude...” He grinned as he floated over to you, “I know you want this.” His hand rubbed up against the bulge in your pants, “You and me bro. Together. Come on.”

You bite your lip and resist letting out another moan. What the fuck was happening to you? What were these clothes doing to you? Did you want this? It would be nice, right? Would it? What would happen if you put the shirt on? You barely notice that the skin of your torso is becoming whiter. And your muscles are starting to expand. As you consider the possibility of becoming Garrett completely, your body is already moving in that direction. Before you can think more on this, Garrett’s ghost seemingly starts to sink into your body. His eyes are wide at first, he grins as he realizes he's being anchored.

“Wait...” You watch as your arm moves against your will and grabs the jersey, “Ohhhhhhhh....” You moan as your other hand grips your cock and starts to stroke.

You catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror and gasp. You look more and more like an Americanized Latino jock. Far from the twink you had been. And you cry out as the jersey is lowered onto your upper body. And as it settles into place, you groan. Muscles expand rapidly, filling out the jersey nicely. Your pecs become shelves- far from the lean musculature that got you compliments from all those tops. Your abs pop into existence, one by one. And you watch as your arms become a beefy mass of ripped triceps and biceps. Bulging with just slight movements. The strength flowing through you is so unfamiliar. So different. So...

“Fuck yeah bruh.” The words leave your lips without any input from your brain. The voice deep and dumb, “Dude, it feels so fuckin’ good to be alive.” You feel as your calloused hands roam your muscles, squeezing your pecs, “Nighty, nighty.”

And you feel yourself fading. Your mind wrapped warmly in thoughts of beer, football, and videogames. God, you couldn't wait to see your team play again. To grind up against someone at the club. What a life you were going to have now. A simplistic life. Garrett’s life. Your life...

Garrett grins as you settle on one identity, “Fuck....” He moans, “If dying meant doing that again...” He chuckles, “Alright, let’s...”

He strokes his cock and finds his favorite porno. Feminine moans fill the room, and Garrett breaths hard. Stroking faster- desperate. Growing frustrated as his cock softens. Not deriving the same pleasure that he used to. His mind wandering to post-game locker room showers. And his teammates' muscular bodies. And slowly, Garrett stops stroking his dick. His eyes start to widen.

“SHIT!”

Now, as he stands around his frat bros, he can’t help but wonder how he could be gay. How could Garrett Thompson, back from the dead, only want a dick up his ass? Garrett shakes his head and sighs. He couldn’t be angry at them... fuck they were so sexy. His eyes roam and he takes in their exposed muscular arms, and cocky grins. He imagines what they might be packing down there. What it might feel like to wrap his lips around their dicks. And his cock starts to stir.

“You good, bruh?”

Garrett snaps back to reality, “Yeah, yeah...” He flips them off, “You’re lucky you’re all so cute, you fuckers.”

The other bros looked at one another, sly grins forming on their faces. After all, Garrett owed them for all the trouble they went through. Right?

[shotmrmiller]

soulmate au part 1

john price x f!reader

wc: 1.2k

unedited, forgive my mistakes.

since you were born, your world has been grey. you never thought anything of it, until at school, they started teaching you colours. the only ones in the room that could see more than just different shades of grey, apart from the teacher, were identical twins.

weird.

you went home and asked your parents.

"we are born missing half of ourselves. we have a fated one, and when you meet them, your world will look the way it was meant to."

oh. but... "in class, there were twins that could see colour. what about them?"

they look surprised for a second until your dad softly explains. "in rare instances, the soulmate bond will be platonic. which makes sense in this case, because twins grow up with a connection regular people like us will never understand."

you nod and lower your gaze to look at your shoes. you wonder if the person meant for you is interested in junie b. jones books like you are.

-

in high school, you crush on this pretty girl— a cheerleader. her hair is long and beautiful, her face is small and round, and she's so kind. just your type.

but no colour stains your vision, so you burrow your emotions deep and mourn the loss of what could've been.

-

in college, one of your friends ask you if you've met your soulmate yet.

"no, not yet," you lament. what she says after freezes the blood in your veins.

"my mom knew someone whose soulmate was already dead before they had even been born," she comments while stabbing a grape tomato with her fork. "it was really tragic, because she'll never know what it's like to know a love that has no equal."

your heart is in your throat, and you find it hard to swallow the food in your mouth.

what if your soulmate is already dead? oh, god. you might just throw up. your friend doesn't seem to notice the change in your demeanor and continues to babble carelessly about how she knew someone that knew someone who's soulmate had turned out to be a murderer.

oh my fucking god.

you quickly run to the bathroom and throw up your lunch.

how cruel is the universe? to have no control over who is meant to be for you.

you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand and lean against the stall of the bathroom. you should've known that this soulmate business was too good to be true.

cupping your hands, you rinse the taste of bile out of your mouth before walking back to your friend who stayed in her seat.

"jesus, you look terrible, you alright?" she asks.

running your fingers through your hair, you huff. "i've certainly been better. just got a bit nauseous, nothing serious. maybe it's a stomach bug."

"oooh, you better not be pregnant! what of your dreams of working in the medical field?"

you giggle at her response. "that'd be impossible unless i'm the virgin mary."

she gapes comically then leans in and whispers, "you're lying! don't tell me you haven't dated anyone just because they weren't your soulmate."

you shrug, and keep your eyes fixed on your half-eaten plate of food. "i don't really wanna talk about it, if that's alright with you. besides, you've got bigger things to worry about, like the upcoming exam for mr. richardson."

slapping a hand to her forehead, she exclaims, "oh, shit! i totally forgot! shit!"

you watch her inhale the rest of her salad and toss her trash before waving goodbye and sprinting toward the library.

with a sigh, you look down at your food. grey. lifeless. shaking your head, you pick up your plate and toss it in the bin.

you decide to focus solely on your studies. you have dreams of being a doctor and pining after someone you haven't even met yet would only serve as a distraction.

--

your white coat grazes your calves as you walk toward your new patient. standing outside the room, you pick up the clipboard.

Price, John. 34, Active Military.

he's the head of the task force! god, you've only heard stories of them from the other medics on base who have met them, so to finally come face to face with the man, the myth, the legend? you wipe your clammy hands on the fabric of your scrubs and clear your throat.

be professional, be professional. he's just another patient, it's no big deal.

rapping your knuckles on the door, you wait a second before twisting the knob with a shaky hand. you nervously keep your eyes on the clipboard as you walk in.

"good morning, captain price."

"mornin', doc," he rumbles.

oh, his deep voice just might be the end of you.

"you don't sound all that happy to be here, captain," you tease while flipping through his medical history papers.

he lets out a low chuckle, and you squeeze your thighs together at the sound. delicious.

"nothin' personal, doc. just don't like bein' here, you understand."

lightly laughing at his joke, you finally steel your nerves and look up at him.

only to have your vision bleed in something you don't understand. is that colour? is this what colour looks like?

the clipboard drops, clattering to the floor. john— being the courteous gentleman that he is— quickly kneels to grab it and lifts his head as he hands it to you.

he freezes in place, the clipboard slipping from his hands as he stares at you.

you thickly swallow, and dumbly question, "do you...has your....colour? can you see colour?"

unblinking, john's eyes are fixated on you as he remains silent.

your eyes dart around to take in his features. his brightly-coloured eyes are framed by lines that hint at his age, his strong jaw adorned by a mutton-chop beard. his nose is specked with a beauty mark.

"what colour are your eyes, captain?" you softly ask.

he closes his mouth and takes in a sharp breath. "i've been told they're blue."

"blue," you smile. the eyes of your soulmate are blue.

but then, your delighted smile melts off your face, in horror.

there's a shiny band on his finger. he's married.

john price, your soulmate, is fucking married.

your vision distorts with the tears that threaten to spill and bite your bottom lip to stop it from trembling. it feels like there are shards of glass in your lungs, cutting you open with each quivering breath you take. your pain is red-hot, searing under your skin, flowing through your veins like molten lead.

john knows exactly what you're looking at.

"love—" he starts but you cut him off swiftly.

"don't. you don't owe me anything, captain. uhm, but uh... maybe it's best that we switch your doctors, yeah? conflict of interest, and all that."

you all but run away, away from that room, from him.

how terribly unlucky.

you head towards your office, which is down the hall, and slam the door closed. only then, do you cry, and mourn what should've been.

[spurbleu]

gonna be thinkin abt lifeguard soapgaz all day actually.

ripped, wearing the smallest shorts you’ve ever seen, dark aviators casting a red hue on the bridge of their nose. wet everywhere. from sweat, sunscreen, or the water, you’re unsure- but it makes the tanned skin look extra delicious- kissing egypt rays in the late afternoon.

gaz sitting on the watch tower, swinging back his third bottle of electrolyte water, looking down when one of the legs shake. soap nudges the old wood, pointing out to the shore.

a bird, ankles clipped by the white foam that licks up her calves, slick in salt. crawls to her towel, sand stamped to the plush of her ass and shoulders in little flecks of rum and gold.

they grin at each other.

doesn’t take long for all three of them to be shagging in the bathroom stalls. hot sweaty bodies threading in tangles of limbs, the dingy shack fighting collapse and breaching the slew of moans the burrow from out the stall gap.

[wtfsteveharrington]

hope this isn’t weird but the end of the luca blurb you posted where they both get hurt on accident has made my mind run haywire thinking of luca and assplay,,,

i have been........... thinking about this a lot i fear. uh oh!

contains: semi intoxicated & unprotected sex, spitting, ass fingering (idk how to say this gracefully okay), slight mention of spanking. some dom-ish!luca vibes hehe. afab!reader!

this isn't my normal style of writing but i'm just a little rotten at the idea

i think it'd have to start when you were both a little tipsy, inhibitions lowered. you jokingly bent over the table when you got back to the apartment, groaning and struggling to kick off your shoes while you relax across the cool table.

he'd catch you struggling from the corner of his eye and come over to grab your hips, chuckling to himself. "you're gonna hurt yourself if you keep this up."

squatting down behind you and grabbing ahold of your ankle, gently guiding you to lift your foot off the ground so he can slide your shoe off before following suit with the second shoe as well.

warm hands cupping your calves and running along your legs. "luca..." you'd groan out, causing a shiver to run through his body.

the energy would change so quick.

he's squeezing your calves and kissing the back of your knee when he feels you rustling around above him and suddenly your panties are being pushed down your thighs. if he was of a clearer mind he'd probably tease you about how easily you got these off verses the struggle of your shoes.

but he's not.

luca's standing up so quick and unbuckling his jeans, the sound of his zipper being undone causing your breathing to pick up. you're reaching back to pull your skirt up to the middle of your back, exposing yourself to him and the two of you work in comfortable silence. desire pushing the interaction along.

your chest is flat against the table, hands reaching back to spread yourself open for him. you hear him gasp at the sight. as a reward there's a finger pushing into you without much warning, neither of you wanting to waste any time.

the mess of whines and pleas falling from your lips is making him dizzy and he doesn't take long before you feel his finger slide out and the tip of his cock gliding between your folds. he's letting out a groan at how wet you feel that causes a surge of... pride? in your chest. knowing you're pleasing him.

"fuck you need this bad." he grumbles out and you'd respond, a panicked noise of agreement combined with a mess of begging, but instead he's pushing into you before you can respond.

you cry out, arching your hips so he has a better angle as he gives you a moment to adjust before picking up his pace. he grabs ahold of one of your hands, pinning it to the small of your back while your other hand still clutches your own ass.

"very good, so fucking good." he'd praise, his hips clapping against your body with each deep stroke.

he's going to spit on your pussy, adding even more lubrication to your already soaked core, but with the combination of lust and liquor in his brain he... misses.

and now his hips stall as he watches his split slide down your backside, dripping over your clenched hole he's never had to courage to ask you to explore yet. you two were just a few months in, still getting comfortable.

"luca... why did you stop?" you sound pathetic and he can barely register your words as he slowly starts moving his hips. without thinking he brings his hand up, dragging his thumb through the spit and applying the softest pressure to your hole which causes you to gasp.

both of you stall for a second, luca shocking himself by being so bold. "i'm so sor-" he goes to apologize, but instead he feels your pussy squeeze around his length and you start to fuck yourself back on him. "a-again..."

he's glad to do as he's told. the pressure returning to your tight hole which makes both of you moan.

the combination of his pace picking up combined with him exploring is sending you into orbit. "relax for me, love." you do, letting your body melt under his touch and he spits down onto you again.

your arms give out and the one that was holding yourself open falls to the side while the one under his grip weighs heavy against your back. a gasp falls from your lips as he pushes into the tight ring with his finger. even with just one you feel so full. "oh fuck!"

luca watches in amazement as your orgasm hits you suddenly and he'd be lying if he said he wasn't proud of himself. his finger stays buried in you while he fucks himself in, letting you both savor the feeling of the aftershocks of your peak. neither of you expected you to finish that quick, speaking to just how aroused you ended up getting.

he's cooing down at you. "you want me to fuck you here next." not a question, a statement. he already knows you too well. you're nodding as your body goes lax against the table, breathing heavy.

a few minutes pass and he's popping his finger out of you, smacking his hand against your ass sharp enough to leave a faint hand print before pulling out of you.

"go get in bed, we're not done."

your legs were already weak but you feel like jell-o now as you nod, shakily standing up and letting him support you as you walk to the bedroom for what's bound to be a long night.

[blackleatherjacketz]

If you are taking reqs for fics, you should totally do one where reader is sore from training or something else(😏) and Miguel offers to massage readers legs, in which turns into him eating reader out!

Miguel O'Hara x Female Reader

Summary: Miguel insists on helping you stretch out your hamstrings.

Warnings: 18+ Only!, Explicit Smut, Mature Content, Mutual Pining, Sassy Miguel, Persuasion, Power Dynamics, Dom Miguel, Touch-Starved Reader, Avoidant Reader, Thigh Stretching, Thigh Riding, Thigh Kissing, Vaginal Fingering, Cunnilingus, Miguel Using His Nose *Creatively*

Word Count: 1.7k

Notes: I hope you like this, Nonny! It got a way from me a bit:)

Read my other MIGUEL stories!

“You’re doing it wrong.” His voice is slick like oil as it spreads through the air and into your ears, coating you in its deliciously dark warmth as he approaches you from behind.

“Oh really?” You keep your palms pressed against the wall as that warmth intensifies, stretching the muscles in your calf as you feel the heat from his breath reach the back of your neck. “How so?”

“You’ve been groaning every time you stand up from your chair.” The weight of the mat beneath your feet shifts and bends with each step he takes toward you until he stops just a few inches short, inhaling a little longer than normal before speaking again. “That stretch isn’t going to help your hamstrings any.”

“No?” You keep your back to him, switching legs before continuing your usual stretches to ease your well-earned muscle pain. “Maybe my calves hurt, did you ever think about that?”

“I can help with those, too.” That dark, inky tambre oozes itself around your body, dripping down your torso and into your core as his words blow a few strands of hair away from your shoulder.

It’s only a matter of seconds now before he touches you, before that black abyss takes you under completely; rendering you helpless against his charm that you’ve been trying to ignore these past few weeks. Those innocent looks he stole from you across the room had quickly morphed into longing gazes that kept you up at night, spurning a fire inside that could only be stoked by one thing. You wonder if being submerged in this desire with him is something that could put this flame out for good; or if succumbing to your primal urges would only ignite this chemical reaction into a combustion impossible to recover from.

“By mansplaining my own stretches to me?” You bring yourself out of your own head and lean further into the wall, extending your muscle in a slow, aching release as he stands still behind you.

“I’m not…” he trails off, backing away only slightly. “I’m not mansplaining.”

“Really?” You finally turn to face him and notice that instead of his usual red and blue suit, he’s wearing shorts and a tank top to match your own. A fresh stain of sweat dampens the worn down collar that stretches across his muscular chest, testing your resolve even further as you try to keep your cool with a casual wink. “What would you call it then, huh?”

You turn to walk away from him, stopping only as he instinctively grabs hold of your arm in a quick attempt to keep you near. He steals another glance, stalling your departure with a gentle tug back in his direction, only this one lasts a little longer than those before it. This one allows you to see the varying colors of red, brown and black in his eyes as they carefully study your face, matching the color of that dark, salacious fluid that reaches the very tips of your toes and glues your feet to the ground.

Uh oh.

Now you’re sinking.

“You’re touching me,” you point out, glancing down at his hand before looking back up at his gorgeous face.

“Do you want me to stop?” The boldness of his question forces you to inhale as his fingers encircle your wrist, his calloused fingertips sending a rush of warmth up your arm as they gently pull you in even closer.

Well, do you?

“No,” you whisper, barely able to recognize your own voice as the word allows him to trace his way up your forearm. “No, I don’t,” you clarify.

“Then what do you want?” He asks again, his voice dropping an octave as it vibrates in his chest.

You shiver in silence as his thumb nestles into the crook of your arm, grazing back and forth over its delicate skin like a pendulum, raising the tiny hairs on your skin as he awaits your answer. His lips are closer than they’d ever been before, full and parted as you allow him to alter your center of gravity with another gentle pull. You’re close enough now to smell his sweat as it mixes in with the sandalwood of his cologne, that intoxicating concoction making it that much harder for you to resist sinking down any further.

“I want you to touch me.” You finally give in, figuring you have nothing left to lose with his breath now hot on your cheek. “I want you to keep touching me.”

“Good,” he smirks as if that’s all he’s been waiting for, nodding his head toward the space behind you. “Now get on the mat, flat on your back.”

Like one of his new recruits you follow his orders blindly, surrendering to this inevitable seduction as you cautiously lay down at his feet.

“Now, I know you’re allergic to accepting help from anyone else, but you’re holding back when you stretch, you know that?” He wastes no time in taking your foot into his hand before pushing your leg up toward you, straightening it out just enough to make you wince. “That’s why you’re still groaning every time you stand up.”

“Yeah, maybe you’re right,” you laugh, trying to ignore his pelvis as it presses against you, stretching your inner thigh out even more than you were capable of doing by yourself. You groan again as he pushes your body to its limit, his palm snug against your calf as he extends it up to the level of your head, pinning your opposite thigh in place with his hip. You hiss as a sharp pain quickly follows, shooting its way up the synapses of your largest muscle as he continues to splay you apart.

“Miguel,” you stifle a whimper as he grins, a glint of his fangs showing as that pain burns its way through the rest of that muscle group.

“Oh, it’s gonna hurt before it feels better, mami,” he goads, stretching you out even further as his pelvis grinds against yours, the evidence of his arousal more than damning.

“I know, I just…” You pause as the expression on his chiseled features changes from playful to knowing, his endlessly dark eyes glancing down at your junction before looking back up at your face.

“You’re soaking wet.” He keeps his hand on your leg while snaking the other between you two, testing the polyester layer of your shorts for the moisture that you both know is there.

Words fail as your jaw falls open in disbelief, that smug look on his face interrupted only by a strand of hair falling in front of his eyes as he touches you.

“I know you’ve been trying to hide it for as long as you can, mami.” He rubs your swollen lips up and down over the cloth, forcing that all encompassing heat to burn like molten hot lava deep inside your core. “But I can smell it on you the second you walk into a room; the change in your hormones, the sweetness of your sweat, and even this.”

You moan pathetically as he pulls your shorts to the side, sliding his fingers beneath them to collect your juices and spread them up and down your length. “No panties either, huh? Turns out I was right about you.”

“Jesus, Miguel,” you plead, grasping onto his forearm just to make sure that he stays close enough to keep kindling your flame.

“Your body’s never gonna lie to me about what it wants.” He leans down and pushes his fingers inside of you, grinning against your ear as you nod helplessly in agreement. “No matter how hard you fucking try.”

He presses his thumb against your clit while kissing his way down your neck, shoulder and knee as he continues to hold your leg in its prolonged stretch. His hungry lips leave a delicious trail down the bottom of your thigh that grows more sensitive as he thrusts his fingers in and out of your burning desire with such delicate ease only he could bring forth.

“There’s no way you’re gonna relax enough for this stretch to work,” he teases. “Not like this, anyways.”

He kisses the skin around your hips, releasing his grip on your leg just enough to let it fall onto his shoulder as he lowers himself down your body. “Now, if only there was a way I could get you to relax...” He looks up at you with nearly blackened eyes, reminding you of that onyx slick as it mixes with the sparks and embers his fingers send into your core before he licks a stripe up your dripping wet center.

Without another word, he parts your folds with his nose before tasting your inner layer, savoring the mere taste of your scent as he rubs his face all over it like a warrior with his paint. He allows himself to get lost in your unique flavor, marking himself with your sex as he all but forgets to hold onto your thigh as his tongue traces over every inch of your lower lips. His mouth encompasses you entirely as his fingers continue to work inside you, pumping spark after spark of pleasure up into the molten core of your body before drenching your swollen bud in his sensual spit.

You find yourself running your fingers through his auburn locks as he takes your clit between his teeth, licking and sucking on it with eyes fixated only on you as your hips rock in tandem with the rhythm of his wrist. His fingers pound deep inside you as he hums against your bud, brushing against that bundle of nerves until that flame inside you finally bursts into an eruption of ecstasy you’d never even thought possible. Every nerve in your body ignites in a series of blissful explosions, catching fire the more he devours your raw flesh until you’re crying out and violently shaking beneath him, completely combusted.

That pain in your thigh seems to disappear entirely as a healing wave of warmth coats your skin and muscles, vibrating in your bones as he moans his approval into your well spent sex with one last lick.

“I think that oughta do it.”

[babydollslibrary]

MINE (JACK’S VERSION) — JACK HUGHES

jack hughes x fem!reader

published: August 6th, 2023

summary: in which careful y/n goes down memory lane with Jack, which leads to their first real fight

notes: i had to make this ‘Mine (Jack’s Version)’ because i already have a Trevor fic titled ‘Mine’

GIF by rask

my legs rest upon my boyfriend’s, his hands laying gently on top of my calves, our bodies slumped on the couch.

“remember that broken dresser drawer that you cleared out for my stuff?” i reminisce through broken laughter, making Jack’s face go pink and his head falls back as he chuckles.

“i didn’t realize it was broken when i cleared it out!” he defends himself, his right hand squeezing my left leg lightly.

“sure, you didn’t!”

“i swear!”

“okay, i’ll believe you.” i coo, pinching his cheek. he swats my hand away, capturing it in his and pulling it to his lips, pressing a kiss to my knuckles.

“ooh, i’ve got one!” he exclaims. “remember the first time we sat by the water on the dock?”

“how could i forget? you put your arm around me and then we fell into the water because someone leaned too far forward.” Jack lets his mouth fall open in mock shock at my words.

“yeah, you!” he accuses and i shake my head rapidly through my giggles.

“nuh-uh! it was you!” i poke his chest.

“okay, it was me.” he pouts, his bottom lip sticking out, and i can’t resist sitting up and pulling his face to mine; crashing my lips onto his.

he pulls away first, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

“you are the best thing that’s ever been mine.” it’s spoken in a whisper, like a well-kept secret between just us. but there’s no secrecy, we’re loud and proud with our love. so loud with it, that Trevor regularly calls us disgusting.

“yours since August 2nd, 2021.” i bite my lip, busying my hands by ruffling them through his freshly trimmed hair.

his brows thread together, his nose crinkling.

“what?” i question, my hands stalling at the nape of his neck.

“that’s not the day we got together.” he laughs as if i’ve told a joke, but his response only makes me lean away from him.

“yeah. it is.” i state matter-of-factly.

“no…” he drags out, his tone makes me feel like i’m dumb, but i know i’m not. “we got together June 24th.”

it’s now my turn to furrow my brows, in complete confusion.

“no, Jack.” i insist. “we started dating on August 2nd.”

“i can guarantee; we did not.” he huffs, and lightly pushes my legs off of his lap. my hands untangle from behind his neck and i scoot backwards to fully see him better.

a normal couple probably wouldn’t be having this argument. but we’re not necessarily a normal couple.

we never had that defining moment of ‘what are we?’. we flirted heavily, we went on a few dates, and then one day he called me his girlfriend and that was that.

we’ve never really celebrated our anniversary, both agreeing that we’d only start if we get married in the future. so, i guess in a way, this misunderstanding is on us. we never bothered to clarify the date we got together, because i guess we both assumed we had the correct dates.

now, i can’t say i know where he got June 24th from, but i know August 2nd is the day he called me his girlfriend for the first time.

“i don’t know where you got June 24th from-” i start, but he cuts me off instantly.

“i don’t know where you got August 2nd from.” he snaps defensively.

it’s my turn for my brows to furrow, my face twisting in a mixture of confusion and hurt.

i can’t believe him.

i rise from the couch, choosing to leave while my emotions are still semi-intact.

“where are you going?” he questions. “gonna go check your planner? see that i’m right?”

oh, that’s low.

i know his words aren’t intentionally harmful, but using my planners against me is a new low.

Jack knew from the moment we met, that i was a meticulous and careful person. growing up, my father was never a punctual man, careless with time and with life. as a result, i started keeping planners. i filled them with important dates and appointments, things to do and things i refused to let myself forget. i was a perfectionist with them.

i mellowed out a bit with them when i started dating Jack; not as detailed, not as on top of things. when he found i had calmed down with them, he called me his ‘little rebel’.

now he’s using them against me. thinking that i’ll just go check and see that he’s right and i’m wrong.

“don’t do that.” i mumble, turning back around to look at him. he’s stood off the couch now, arms crossed over his chest. “don’t use my planners against me.”

“okay, then go look at them! see that i’m right!” he argues loudly, a hand flying up to point towards our lake house bedroom.

“i don’t need to look at them! because i know i’m right!” i belt, tears roll down my cheeks now and i’ve lost any attempt to stay quiet due to the 2:30am timing.

how can he even think we got together so early? he never asked me.

“August 2nd, you called me your girlfriend for the first time!” my finger pokes towards his chest. “i know because i went home that night and immediately wrote it down.”

done with this argument, i leave him behind in the living room, opting to go for a walk. the front door slams shut behind me, and i let out a sob.

Jack and i have never actually fought. in our entire two years together, we’ve never had a yelling fight like that.

my legs carry me towards the street, and i hear the front door open and slam shut once more. Jack’s footsteps follow behind me, speeding up until i feel a hand wrap around my arm, pulling me back to him.

he spins me around, my chest now pressed against his. he looks down at me with soft eyes, a frown pasted on his lips.

i brace myself, waiting for him to call it quits, as i’m used to. first sign of a disagreement or fight, and guys have always left. called me difficult or said i was too much.

but his next words take me by surprise.

“that was the night i first called you my girlfriend?” he questions, shaking his head lightly, as if he’s surprised.

“i thought you were my girlfriend from the night we first…” he trails off and it takes me a moment to realize what he means.

June 24th. the night we first slept together. the night we confessed we liked each other.

“oh.” i breath out. “you never actually said anything about it or asked me. i always just thought that you called me your girlfriend on August 2nd and i didn’t oppose so that was that.”

i sniffle as he chuckles, his hands coming up to cup my face, his thumbs wiping away my tears.

“we probably should’ve figured this out a long time ago, eh?”

“yeah, i guess so.” i shrug.

“why were you crying, baby? it wasn’t that serious. just a little hiccup.” his blue eyes stare deep into mine, and i get shy under his gaze.

“i thought you were gonna break up with me.” i confess in a whisper. “it’s what i’m used to.”

he’s quiet for a moment, just staring at me in shock before he presses a kiss to my forehead, his lips mumbling against my skin.

“i’ll never leave you alone.”

[sorceresssundries]

Imagine: post-game Gale and Tav out somewhere with some dude RELENTLESSLY hitting on Tav. Gale can take people hitting on tav, it happens all the time and he's not insecure in the slightest. But this guy is being obnoxious and obviously making tav uncomfortable. How does Gale react and also what if they fucked afterwards

You're unhinged and I respect and love you for it.

Here you go friend. Some pure, mindless smut for you!

Pairing: Gale x female Tav - NSFW

Warnings: SMUT!!!! Public sex, blow job, probably the smuttiest smut i've smutted thus far. You have been warned. This is not regency-esque euphemistic smut. Gang, this is straight up pornography.

Word Count: 1.7k

Gale could hardly believe the brazen audacity of the merchants. His shopping trip had started off pleasantly, with Tav swishing around the market stalls in all her bare-legged, off-shoulder glory, the hem of silk dress flirting with her knees and billowing as she moved. She was exquisite, obviously, and she knew exactly what she was doing. She always managed to bring home produce at far lower prices than he could ever haggle for. He enjoyed watching her play the minx, but he did not enjoy the merchants taking liberties.

Leaning against a nearby wall, pretending to read a book, he watched as she flitted between the stalls, appraising fruit and laughing with the sellers. They couldn’t help but stare at the constellations of freckles adorning her exposed shoulders and collarbones. Gale was focused solely on her—imagining her tanned, strong calves draped over his shoulders, his hand tight in the loose braid that swung across her back as he kissed the plush skin of her breasts. He thought pushing up her skirt and running his tongue all the way up the inside of her leg until..

His thoughts halted and he snapped his book shut as soon as he realised something was wrong. The squat, bearded merchant she had been bargaining with suddenly had his hand in the crook of her arm and he was leant in close enough for her to look uncomfortable. The way she was leant back and gently tugging herself away showed she was trying to politely remove herself, with little luck. Gale felt his fists ball at his side, he wouldn’t jump in yet, he knew she could handle herself…

Then with his other hand, the merchant reached forward to move a strand of hair away from her face. It made Gale see red.

In an instant, he was there. Hot with anger. 

“Touch her again and there'll be naught left of you but a pitiful pile of dust upon scorched earth” Gale said quietly in the man’s ear, the grip on his arm a closing vice. 

He put his arm round Tav’s waist and began to lead her away from the market and back to their home. He didn’t want to embarrass her by making a scene, and he knew better than anyone how capable she was of defending herself. But, for his own benefit, he felt he needed to intervene, before another person put their hands on his wife.

“Wouldn’t want her anyway, the slutty little..” the merchant murmured as they walked away.  Gale turned sharply with palms crackling full of fury-hot weave. Before the necessary words could be spat from his lips, Tav pushed past him and with effortless strength punched the merchant so hard that blood splattered from his nose like burst fruit, and he crumpled into a heap on the floor. 

“No one dare give him a healing potion.” She snapped loudly to the other merchants as he rolled in agony on the ground. “When I come back tomorrow, I want to see skin as bruised as his pathetic little ego.” The market was now quiet apart from a few whispers bouncing between the patrons. She grabbed her husband by his arm, the basket of shopping abandoned, and left quickly. Gale was suddenly very aware of how hard he was. 

Just round the corner, barely any distance from where Tav’s display had taken place, she pulled them both into a  dark and narrow alley,  barely wide enough for two people to pass each other without turning sideways. The walls of the surrounding buildings, tall and oppressive, cast deep shadows that almost entirely blocked out the sunlight, but not completely.

Tav was pressed against him instantly, pinning him back against the cool bricks and running her hand slowly down his chest until she eventually rested her palm against the hard bulge in his trousers. 

“The thrills of combat still do it for you then?” She purred against him, the scent of the sun and the sea-breeze settled and heavy on her exposed skin as he left tongued kisses on her shoulders, her throat, her jaw. 

“Just you.” He said, breathless “Always you.” 

As they tangled together, pushing against each other with such desperation that a passerby might mistake them for a single shadow, Gale realised they weren’t completely hidden. People still wandered past, busy with errands or chattering absently with friends. Gale could hear their voices clearly, which meant he and Tav would be heard too. And if anyone stopped to look closely enough, they would definitely see Gale of Waterdeep fucking his wife senseless against the brickwork. 

“Gods.” His voice was cracked with lust. “Someone will hear us.” 

“Well you’ll just have to be quiet when you come down my throat then, won’t you? my brave hero” Her golden eyes were lidded, and voice dripping with wanton desire.

Her words sparked him. His hands were suddenly all over her, pushing up her skirt and gripping the soft flesh of her backside, stroking up her spine until gripping the nape of her neck to hold her head still as he kissed her with wild urgency. 

The sounds she made were beautiful, but risky. He had to put his hand over her mouth to keep her quiet and their dirty little tryst a secret. His eyes burned into hers as he kept his hand there, and her muscles stilled completely as he moved his other up her thigh and to where she was slick and desperate for him. 

“No underwear, Mrs.Dekarios?” Gale tutted at her as he began to draw light, slow circles over her clit. All Tav could do was moan against his hand, and Gale could feel the spit from her mouth against his palm.

Tav was rarely quiet, in or out of the bedroom, and she was finding it very difficult not to cry out with peals of ecstasy under his touch. They had done this enough times now for him to make her come apart with barely any effort. He knew how she liked it slow and soft as he whispered words of encouragement in her ear. How she liked his hand on her throat, firm enough so he could feel her moans against his palm and soft enough for him to stroke her parted lips with the pad of his thumb. She liked it when his eyes burned into her, and all trace of his softness had blazed into rough, heated need.

“That’s it.” He said, quiet and forceful in the swirl of her ear “Don’t let them hear you” There was a lilt of playful amusement in his voice, a cockinesss which pushed Tav further towards her undoing. She couldn’t help but moan as his fingers increased their pressure slightly, now slick with her arousal.

She came in hot silence, him holding her steady as she bucked under his touch. He continued to stroke her through the waves of warm pleasure that crashed against his fingers. After she had settled, he kissed her slow and attentively. Mimicking what he would like to do against her warm cunt when he got her back home. 

Tav had other ideas. 

She dropped to her knees in front of him and frantically started to unbuckle his belt. “Tav” he groaned as she pulled down his trousers. “Maybe this isn’t…”  Any thoughts of gentlemanlike manners disappeared into white oblivion as she licked hard along his erection. 

“Gods” he groaned, his fingers tracing over her lips. "You look so good taking me like this”

Tav’s head spun at his words, her mind bubbling with white-hot thoughts of lust and debauchery. 

She would do this quickly now, take him in desperation while her legs were still weak from coming against his fingers. And then when they got home she would take her time doing this all over again, letting him think she would do it the same way, at the same pace, but she would draw it out in the private sanctum of their home until his wrung-out voice echoed throughout the rafters of the tower. She would delight in pulling from him noises which even he had never heard himself make before. But for now, she would settle for whimpers and groans as his hand tightened in her hair and he spilled into her mouth. 

The moans that left his chest were visceral. He loved to watch her like this, lips swollen as she moved him in and out of her mouth, the rose pink flash of lipstick smeared over her chin and his cock. Eyeliner smudged, tendrils of sweat-slick hair stuck to her neck. He could come just from looking at her. He knew that after this she would want to tidy herself up, but like fuck would he let her. He wanted to walk home with her on his arm, looking well-fucked and messy.

Tav could feel him trying to keep his hips still, so as not to push himself too far against the back of her throat, but she encouraged him forward by placing his hand in her hair so he could tangle his fingers in it as he fucked her mouth. 

He had to bite down on his other hand as he came, but it still didn’t stop the sinful sounds that spilled from his lips as his hips stuttered and he fell apart completely. 

They stayed there for a few moments, his head leant back against the wall and hers against his thigh. Both breathless and spent. 

“Do you need to go back to the market, my love?” he panted, as he pulled her up and began to press soft, lazy kisses against anywhere he could reach. “I’d be happy to get into a fight with anyone else, man, woman or child, if this is the reaction it sparks.”

Tav laughed as they left their little hideaway in total disarray, smug in the subtlety of their tryst. They were completely unaware of just how many people had heard the sounds of Mr. and Mrs. Dekarios ravishing each other in public. Tomorrow, the market would be buzzing with gossip about the black-eyed merchant and the subsequent public escapades of the respectable wizards. But, fortunately, Gale and Tav would remain blissfully ignorant of it all. Tomorrow, they planned to spend the entire day in bed, making love and living off whatever food they could scrounge from their empty cupboards.

[officialabortive]

Bull!Bakugou x dairy cow! Reader

I'd like to clarify that I do NOT support the dairy industry in any way. Fuck those dairy-farm-running motherfuckers

This is purely to sedate my lactation kink.

Bull!bakugou who refuses to let his favorite cow stay in the stuffy barn all dairy cows are kept in, not trusting the farmhands to properly take care of you. Instead dragging you to the separate shelter used to house the pasture's handful of bulls

Even though each bull is separated by a few wooden planks, (meant to prevent fights) he is still wary of the others, not wanting anyone else getting close to you. He just wants to protect you

Bull!Bakugou who cant get enough of your milk, his favorite meal.

Bull!Bakugou who spends long expenses of time draining your tits, never unlatching. Still continuing to suckle even after he's had his fill and then some

Bull!Bakugou who only groans at you whenever you tell him to be gentle, the harsh suction being too much to handle. But he never listens, not letting up on his rough eagerness to drink everything you have to offer

Bull!Bakugou who starts acting like a calf again once he tastes your milk for the first time. Snubbing his nose at the feed given by the farm, only wanting to feed from you. Besides, you can provide him with more nutrients than any hay ever could

Bull!Bakugou who soon realizes how much water you need to drink to accommodate with milk production. Now keeping a tub of water in his stall to keep you hydrated. It's like your own little water trough

With your new constant access to water has you drinking more than usual, thus bakugou finds out drinking more means more milk

Bull!Bakugou is now constantly having you drink large amounts throughout the day. Doing this to the point that you're so full of milk, there are constant streams of the sweet liquid running from your nipples and down your torso

Bull!Bakugou who can't fall asleep without a tit in his mouth. Relaxed by the feeling of a full stomach

Bull!Bakugou who knows milk contains antibodies, as to why it always helps sick calves

Bull!Bakugou who milks you by hand, collecting the nutrients in an empty jar when your I'll. Feeding it to you, saying it'll make you better and damn well believing it

The farmhands are always left confused when they hook you up to the milking machines, but end up without get as much milk out of you as they should

Meanwhile Bull!Bakugou is watching from a distance. A droplet of milk adorning the corner of his smirking lips

masterlist

[harmonictechnicality]

model!steve and voice actor!Eddie (part 2)

part 1 here | ao3 link here | the temp is up on this one so like... dni if under 18 pls

Steve spends a lot of his spare time at the gym. Comes with the territory of modeling or whatever. Gotta keep himself strong, without developing bulging muscles. Gotta keep himself toned, without becoming too lean. Somewhat of a balancing act to this media fuckery circus.

Times are changing, yeah maybe. But not for puffy-lipped preps with killer bone structure. Steve still falls under the category of stereotypical Pretty Boy, and he’s chill with that. Fucking owns it.

Most days…

He’s currently cooling down on the treadmill - brisk walk, almost a jog. It’s a good pace for multitasking some adult shit that he needs to get done. Staying hydrated, keeping his photoshoot calendar up-to-date, answering a few emails. Yada yada.

Steve takes a swig of his seaweed (more like arsenic) smoothie. Opens the top email that reads:

The Fallen King - Final Commercial Cut

Right. Steve almost forgot about this particular shoot. Well, tried to repress the thoughts of that mega-douche director who kept referring to Steve’s ass as ‘prime real estate.’ Fucking creep.

He scrolls down to the attached file and slides his headphones back over his ears.

The ad opens with a wide shot of Steve draped over the throne, fog swelling around the bottom of the screen. The music is an eerie cello solo, set to a heavy bassline. 

Just another oversexualized cologne campaign, he thinks. Probably will barely feature the product because they paid big money for Steve’s body. Gotta get their fill of it (ha, they fucking wish Steve would fill them up).

But then the narration rolls into his ears and the room does a somersault. Practically inverts it’s axis at the sound dripping in Steve’s ears:

‘The mighty will fall from grace…’

“Oh shit.” Steve almost wipes out on the treadmill, has to catch his fall on the side bars. His knees are tingling, calves molten and shaky. Already half hard, which is definitely going to be a problem in these flimsy, mesh gym shorts.

‘Forbidden love and public slander…’

But that voice. That tone. That sinful register set in the minor key of Holy Fuck.

‘Will bring them to their knees.’

Alright, that fucking does it. Steve pauses the video before he’s fully tenting-out in a goddamn fitness center. Packs up his shit, chucks the sludge smoothie in the trash, and finds an empty stall. Emphatically locks it.

“Agh, damnit!” Steve's thumb slips over the screen and exits out of the video. It scrolls back to the top of the email - a new message has been added to the chain.

Seriously, what obnoxious fucker does ‘Reply All’ these days?

The new message reads:

Great work, team. (Sorry for being such a vocal slut.)

(… Not that sorry though.) - Eddie Munson

That’s right - the voice artist. Almost didn’t recognize the voice, but the repressed memory of that day comes flying to the surface when Steve sees the name. 

He recalls the guy being objectively cute too. Not in the California ‘sun-kissed skin’ kind of way. More in the Seattle ‘rain forces me to be a pale homebody’ kind of way. His eyes were something else though. They reminded Steve of the sepia tone filters he used in his early modeling portfolio. No way in hell Steve could ever forget knockout eyes like that.

The locker room is empty. Steve reopens the video, raises the volume high enough to mute out the thin hum from the air conditioning unit. Only wants to hear Eddie’s voice. That’s it. 

He’s already touching himself when the first phrase falls out of the headphones. Can’t even help it now that he’s alone. It’s all too good. Works himself up all stuffy and sensitive by the time the new part comes up:

‘Drenched in their guilt. Soaked in their shame.’

Fucking christ.

‘Choking on worthless confessions…’

Nope. Nope. Absolutely not. Choking? Worthless? What is this, a sado hotline? Steve feels the heat spreading on his neck, flushed over in a non-exercise way. There’s a thump in his dick, has to squeeze his fingers around it. Like his body needs a reminder to calm the fuck down.

‘Until all that is left of them is desolate darkness.’

Pretty sure the raspy exhale after every phrase is going to do Steve in, saturate his last ounce of dignity with want. Eddie’s breathing is taking Steve’s breath away, and that’s an outright mindfuck. Earfuck. 

Something is getting fucked, and somehow, Steve still needs more.

While the song sustains, Steve strokes himself to the percussive rhythm. 

‘The Fallen King. The scent of secrets.’

The hiss on the last syllable fades into the music till everything fizzles out, going dead silent.

Well, everything goes silent except for Steve, who is utterly rattled. Can hear his dense breath and it’s way too noisy for a public space. The pulse in his neck is irregular, hitched the fuck up. His smartwatch is buzzing, alerting him that his heart rate is elevated, which duh. His whole body feels like it underwent some sexual awakening in the middle of a fitness center. 

And, sure. That’s a common place for people to realize how gay and desperate they are, but not like this. Not with zero visuals of sweaty bodies. 

Before he starts the video over to… finish the job, a phone call lights up his screen. Because of course it does.

He reads the name and swipes it open. “What’s up, Buckley?”

“I need coffee.” Robin whines, already pouting into the phone speaker no doubt. 

“You always need coffee.”

“Yeah but like… it tastes better when you buy me coffee.”

“Oh, so you want to mooch off of your own client?” Steve teases because he can. They can annoy the shit out of each other and write it off as endearment. “Pretty unprofessional of you, Ms. Manager.”

Robin groans. Makes it a long one too - probably to show off both her annoyance and lung capacity. “Fuck all the way off, you were my friend first. Always friends first.”

“Always friends first.” Steve agrees. She’s right, usually is about most things. Robin has been his manager since his last agency went bankrupt from pouring their funds into promoting Fyre Fest. And everyone knows that turned out to be an entire fuckshow.

Honestly, it’s easier this way - Robin being his manager. They get to hang out more, he has more input on gigs that he’s interested in…

Interested in. Huh. The metaphorical lightbulb flicks on in Steve’s voice-drunk brain. Having his best friend as his manager is also convenient when Steve needs the phone number of a certain co-worker.

“Alright, fine.” Steve has a sly grin on as he talks. “I’ll bring over some coffee.”

“Thank god.”

“If!”

“Ugh.”

He huffs out a laugh. “If you can send me the cast and crew contact sheet from the Fallen King commercial.”

“Ew, why?” Robin asks, sounds totally repulsed. Valid, that shoot was Objectification Station.

But truly, Steve’s not in the mood to make up an excuse. He’s sore and sweaty and half-hard. So he just gets to the damn point. “Look, do you want coffee or not?”

“Okay okay.” That’s one way to speed up the process. Caffeine threats - works every time. “Dropping the file to you now.” 

“You’re the best.” Steve sings.

“I know, I know.” And the line clicks dead.

Okay. This is not a booty call, it’s not.

Steve is just texting a semi-stranger to tell him that his voice is potentially the hottest thing he’s ever heard. Okay, he’ll definitely phrase it better than that, maybe throw a few emojis in there to normalize the tone. Soften it up to sound very un-stalkery.

Yeah. Not a booty call. And if Eddie happens to send an audio message, and Steve happens to jerk off to it… still not a booty call, right?

Pathetic, maybe. But not basic, thank fuck.

He types, then re-types the message out way too many times before settling on this:

Steve: Great work on the commercial voiceover! Got ur number from the call sheet. hope that’s cool.

Steve hits send before realizing he didn’t have the goddamn common sense to introduce himself. He’s not even a rookie at hookups, why is he suddenly so frazzled by this guy?

“This is Steve by the way…” he mumbles into an audio message. Hits send, then quickly makes another:

“The… model guy.”

The model guy? What in the flustered hell is going on with him?

A chime notification goes off maybe two minutes after Steve sends the last message. Which is like… hot. Shameless fast texters are a millennial turn-on, for sure.

It’s a voice text, so Steve takes thirty seconds to calm down whatever involuntary throb just happened in his sweatpants. He sucks in some air and presses play:

“Pretty sure all the kids these days just send a ‘u up’ message to people they wanna dick down at midnight.”

Damn. Eddie’s voice sounds totally different, but just as sexy. Like amateur porn sexy. Is amateur audio porn a thing? It should be.

Steve quickly saves the audio file and types back.

Steve:  Ok pls don’t mention ‘kids’ while I’m trying to flirt with u

Eddie: Waitwaitwait So we're definitely flirting right now? I actually interpreted that correctly?

Steve: Like u said It’s midnight So… *shrug emoji*

And a phone call comes through. Eddie’s contact name flashing in a harsh light, too blinding and too unexpected. Steve’s heart is hammering at his rib cage, suddenly so fucking nervous. He waits until the last ring to answer, buys himself some time cause god knows, he needs it.

Steve takes a breath and swallows. “He-”

“Okay, so you do realize this is the sewer rat voice actor guy from the commercial shoot, right?” Eddie interrupts, sounds out of breath. “And not like… a fellow model or Timothee Chalamet’s cousin or something?”

That earns a hearty laugh and eye-roll from Steve. “He is so not my type.”

“Thought he was everyone’s type.”

“Nah.” Steve rolls onto his belly, very giddy and disarmed by the ease of the exchange. His nerves are set aside, replaced with his usual confidence. “More into sewer rat voice actor guys.”

“That… is some very specific criteria.” Eddie coughs or maybe it's just a dry laugh. He sounds pleased as hell, so laugh seems more likely. “Holy shit, I’m flirting with a model!”

“You’re cute." Steve should not be so charmed right now, but the impulsive honesty is really doing it for him. "Dorky, but cute.” 

Eddie mumbles something incoherent, then clears his throat. Speaks quieter this time. “So why’d you text?”

“So why’d you call?”

“Just, uh… needed confirmation that this is real life.”

Steve lets out a ‘hmm,’ thinks of a proper response to that. “If I was there, I could pinch you. Ya know... so you’d know it’s real.” Okay. Maybe not proper, but whatever. It’s late. His brain is half scrambled from hormones and exhaustion, cut him some slack.

“Would do a lot more than pinch you if you were actually here.” And sure, Eddie might have mumbled that, but Steve clearly heard it. He heard exactly what Eddie just suggested.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Fuck, we’re doing this?” Eddie whispers.

Steve turns onto his back again, lets his hand wander down. “If you’re into that. Like hearing your voice, Eddie.”

“Like hearing you say my name like that.” And Eddie sounds like he means it. His tone is smoothing over, the same way it did in the narration. “You sound so worked up already.”

Steve moans, chest falling hard enough that the phone slips. Has to reposition it to get all that good vocal seduction back in his ear.

“God, wish I could see what you look like right now.” Eddie exhales, getting that nice rasp that Steve likes so much. It’s sultry and rich. Breathless at just the right moments. “Bet you’re lying down, aren’t you? Phone wedged between your neck and ear cause your hands are too busy to hold it properly. Am I right?”

“Yeah.” Steve pushes past the waistband of his sweatpants, then his boxers.

Eddie hums. Growls. “The things I’d do to you like that. Lying down, looking so eager to please. Saw how good you are at taking direction that day of the shoot. Does that apply in the bedroom too, baby?”

“It… fuck.” Steve strokes himself slowly. Can barely get the words out cause it feels like he's chewing on Eddie's voice. Swallowing every syllable. “Yeah, it does.”

“See - that’s the problem, isn’t it?”

“Problem?”

“That I don’t know what you’re into. How you like it.”

“Pretty open to… trying things.” Steve reassures, eyes closing to soak in every sensation. “Just keep talking.”

And thank all that is holy, Eddie does just that. He keeps talking. “Can’t stop thinking about that pretty neck of yours. How I’d kiss it, suck on it till your skin goes tender and soft under my lips. Till your head rolls back like it did in that video.”

Eddie's words are syrup. Heavy and tempting. “I’d let you rest it on my shoulder while I get my hands all over you. See what sweet spots drive you wild, get you to squirm for me.”

Steve's grip tightens, pumping at a pace that’s close to getting fucked. A pace that makes it easier to pretend that it’s Eddie’s hand wrapped around him, making his vision blurred and spotty - even with his eyes screwed shut.

“Eddie, you’re… oh my god.” Steve whines, knows it must be pretty fucking loud with the speaker smushed against his cheek. “You’re so good at this.”

Eddie shushes him, sounds like he’s snickering a bit. “I’d tease you like that until your thighs start to tremble. Until you beg me to go further. End the torture.”

“Fucking christ…please.” Guess Steve really is that good at taking direction. Or maybe he’s extra easy for guys that turn his brain into liquor. Too busy begging to know which one it might be. “Keep going.”

Eddie’s laugh is dark and rough. “Sounds nice hearing you beg like that. Like sin.”

Feels like sin too. 

Steve’s fingers are slicked nicely with precome. The friction of his palm is making everything warmer, better. And stirring all of those feelings up with Eddie’s voice? Fucking hell, Steve is close. He’s so damn- “Okay, okay. If we don’t stop, I’m gonna-”

“I know.” Eddie purrs, sweetly mean. “Thought that was the point.”

“Cannot believe I'm about to say this, but maybe…” Steve has to dig his hand out from his boxers to complete the sentence. Knocks his head against the wall because his behavior is totally batshit right now. “Maybe I want to see you again first? Is that weird?”

His skin sort of tingles from going this long without finishing. Never solved the blue-balling issue back at the gym either, so Steve’s on the verge of climax insanity right now. Didn’t think he’d discover an edging kink at the ripe age of twenty-five, but eureka. Here it is.

“Not weird.” Eddie’s voice returns back to a calmer one. The one that doesn’t make Steve want to bend over and get fucked so hard that his organs shift around. “I mean, I’m weird, sure. But wanting to complete this in person is not weird. Very un-weird, in fact.”

“You talk a lot.”

“Yeah well… voice actor.” Eddie says, sort of deadpan. “You couldn’t see that, but I just did ‘razzle dazzle’ hands.”

Shit, Steve really likes this guy. He just used the phrase ‘razzle dazzle hands,’ and Steve is still horny for him. Wow.

“Is tomorrow too soon?” Steve manages to say before overthinking it.

“Tomorrow-tomorrow, or like today-tomorrow?” Eddie asks. “Cause it’s past midnight.”

Right. Booty call time moves at an entirely different pace than normal time does. “Today-tomorrow. If you’re free.”

“Free as a dead composer’s anthology of music.” Eddie answers happily.

Steve opens his mouth to respond, then shuts it because what? What does that even mean? Is that a yes or a no? Goddamnit, his head hurts. Too many questions, not enough orgasms.

“Most classical music is royalty-free.” Eddie clears his throat, sounds like he’s tapping on something. “… So yeah. I’m free.”

“Right.” Steve chuckles, hard to believe he’s unapologetically gushing. “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow, Eddie.”

“Great. See you today, Steve.” Eddie is still snorting at his own joke while the call ends.

They haven’t sorted out any of the details yet, but it doesn’t matter. It’s happening. It’s real.

So real, that he wants an actual date with Eddie before steamy phone sex. He wants to make Eddie laugh before making him come. That's like... unheard of for Steve. Uncharted.

Damn.

Today-tomorrow can’t come soon enough.