#embarrassed sheep noises

[akanesheep]

I wrote about my MC as she is to me, please don’t come for me for not writing them as gender neutral. 😥 feel free to interpret all pronouns as you wish.

My MC:

My MC is much like myself. Although she’s smaller… because I wish I were 5’2” for some reason. I’m only a few inches above that, but to me short = cute. She has fluffy soft curly hair that is a soft auburn color. She frequently dyes it all different colors though.

She’s soft spoken, and can be a bit timid with new people, but once she gets comfortable with someone, she opens up quite a bit. She’s very kindhearted, and easily gets her feelings hurt, but also very forgiving. She’s self-conscious and doesn’t see herself in the best light. This stems from the bullying and mistreatment she received in her childhood.

She’s clumsy. Like she can trip over air. She always has bruises from bumping into things, tripping on the carpets, etc. She usually has little dots of ink on her hands from writing, because she somehow manages to miss the pin cap, or bumps her hand against the end of them pen/marker somehow.

She holds little attachment to the human realm, she doesn’t care much for a place where she never felt welcome. There are a few people there she cares for, but not enough to want to be there all the time. Aside from those few individuals, if the human realm decided to end it’s existence, she wouldn’t care much.

She likes to make things, sewing, quilting, crochet, floral arranging, wreaths, painting, crafting, she loves them all… her room is always containing some work in progress, and the supplies are always neatly arranged in her closet, unless she’s currently using them.

She’s stubborn, insanely stubborn, and refuses to back down when she knows she’s right. She rushes in when her loved ones are in danger with no regard to the consequences. No matter how many times her husbands admonish her for doing so, she turns right around and does it again.

Along those lines, she defends those she loves vehemently. Don’t come to her with requests that put one of them at a disadvantage. Don’t coke to her and speak ill of those she loves, she will react poorly. This applies to her husbands also, they aren’t immune to her anger should they start trying to put themselves over the others, or just trash talk the others in general. She will hear our complaints and give her advice and if necessary, intervene, but this isn’t Jr. High, she doesn’t play games. All of those involved are adults and they knew what this was when they chose to be involved.

She listens, calm and patiently. Whether it’s Levi on a rant about a game or anime, Mammon about his schemes, Lucifer letting off steam, Satan on a tangent, Diavolo’s excited gushing about a plan… you get it. She only interrupts to ask a question, or to ward Mammon off a particularly bad idea. Otherwise, she lets them talk it out of their system. She loves talking with all of them, hearing their thoughts, wants, and dreams.

She believes in them wholeheartedly, she sees each and every one of their individual worth.

When she loves, she loves deeply. It takes a lot to shake her devotion. Because of this, her past is littered with failed relationships. Those who would fill their time with her and then be done with her. Those who would abuse her until she found the strength to leave. Those who would just abandon her when she needed them the most. Due to this she fears betrayal and abandonment, she’s anxious, and fears each argument will lead to her being left alone. She has trust issues, but is still more trusting than she should be.

She doesn’t fully believe in hearing ‘I love you’ so she needs to be shown. She doesn’t fully believe in acts of love so she needs to hear ‘I love you’. She knows this is a huge contradiction, but doesn’t know how to resolve it.

She desires a protector and defender. To be protected from and defended against the pain she has suffered and those that would bring more to her. She doesn’t seek fame, glory, and isn’t on a quest for power. She simply wishes for happiness for herself and those she loves. She can’t but to meddle and try to help those around her.

She is very self-sacrificing. She’ll give whatever it takes to make those around her happy, even if it means giving her life. Her final thoughts as Belphie took her life were ‘I guess if it brings him peace, I can die…’

That doesn’t mean she was ‘ok’ with what happened. She had to take time to be comfortable around him being in the same room, much less alone… but she knew that Belphie was someone who in his own twisted way, had opened up some to her, and was hurting in his own ways. She decided to try to believe in the love he had for his sister, and the faith his brothers put into him.

She’s self-depreciating at times… she knows being poly isn’t the ‘norm’ in the human world… and until she found herself in the Devildom, she wouldn’t have believed she was poly. In those early days of finding herself falling for the brothers, as well as Diavolo, Barbatos, Simeon, and Solomon, she cursed herself and cried regularly, memories of untrue accusations of being a ‘whore’ or ‘slut’ would ring in her mind… except now, wasn’t it true? Is that what she was? She struggled immensely with this, even as she continued to fall deeper into her depression. She broke one night while Asmo was doing her nails, as he happily chattered about his day, and their plans for a date the next day, how they’d have outfits that complemented each other perfectly, etc. she felt tears begin to slide down her cheeks.

‘MC?’ Asmo questioned, looking concerned, ‘Oh my lamb, what is it?’

‘Asmo… I’m horrible… I’m a terrible person’ her voice shook as the tears increased, poring now down her face.

He pulled her to his lap, words of gentle admonishment regarding her words, and comfort slipping from his lips and he held her. ‘Talk to me MC, tell me what this is all about. I need to know why you feel this way’

‘Asmo, I can’t… you’ll hate me’

He chuckled softly, only a whisper of it escaping his lips as he pressed soft kisses to the side of your face, then turning you to face him. ‘Nonsense, nothing in this world could ever make me hate you’

‘You will, because I’m disgusting’

‘Love, you’re sounding like Levi…’ he teased, lifting her chin gently. ‘Now enough of that, tell me what is going on, I can’t understand if you don’t tell me’

Sobbing, she looked at his honey eyes, his face worried, and whispered her darkest truth, ‘I love you, but not just you… I’m in love with your brothers too…’ she looked away, ashamed and waiting for the inevitable explosion of anger and words like blades.

Instead he laughed…a gentle chiming laugh that he only used when he hears something he already knew. ‘Little lamb… did you honestly think I didn’t know? Me?’ He turned you to face him again. ‘Lovely, I’ve known since the beginning. I’m the avatar of Lust. Emotions like lust, and love, are my domain.’

‘But Asmo, I’m wrong, something in me is broken’

‘Why is that?’

‘Because I love all of you… that means I’m a whore’

Asmo scoffed offended ‘Does that mean you see me as a whore?’

‘Of course not!’ Her eyes look panicked, fearing she’s said the wrong thing again.

His eyes remained soft and gentle as he cupped your face. ‘Then why would you be?’

‘B-because I’m not supposed to…’

‘Says who?’

‘Everyone’ she gestured around her, then her voice lowered to a whisper, ‘Even if you aren’t, they hate me for the thought’

Knowing her past, Asmo sighed softly. He cupped both of her cheeks and wiped her tears away. ‘I’m going to tell you something about the Devildom, as well as demons, that I thought you already knew. We’re a polygamous society. Monogamy isn’t encouraged or discouraged, and the same is true of polygamy. I’m sure you realized that most of the female demons here are succubi? Did you think that just changes when they settle down?’

She looked at him, quietly crying as she listened. She shook her head at his question. Of course they didn’t, they’re succubi.

‘See? And me? I’m the avatar of lust after all. While I’m not an incubus, I still feed on the lust of those around me, as well as the lust and love of those I’m intimate with.’

‘But what about other demons that aren’t succubi or incubi’

‘Well if most females are succubi, that would imply they have multiple partners, yes? So do incubi… but rarely are they in a relationship with each other… their lusts and passion would feed into the others drives and only make them more hungry. So they seek actual partners that aren’t either.’

‘Do you have other partners’ she asks blushing.

‘You and Solomon are my only ‘partners’’ he said firmly, ‘however, I have had casual relationships when you are both away, to keep myself from becoming too hungry. Think of it like Beel’s hunger. If he doesn’t ‘eat’ he goes on a rampage. While I wouldn’t destroy buildings or eat furniture, I could cause a lot of issues if I don’t stay in balance’

She nodded, understanding the demon in front of you in a new light.

‘But your brothers aren’t incubi’

‘No, they aren’t. But that doesn’t mean they aren’t able to understand and love just as much. I can assure you that any conversation you have with them won’t be a closed-minded one’

‘How do you know?’

Asmo laughs softly and pulls you to him, ‘Still afraid little Lamb? Let me as you this… do you think that even as large as this house is, that we don’t know when you’ve intimate with one of us? As shy as you are, the adorable sounds you make aren’t what one could consider quiet’

She blushes deep red. ‘N-no… that’s so embarrassing…’

‘Eh? Not at all.’ He teases, ‘Despite this, and how much we notice the marks on your neck, have any of us confronted you or said anything to you or each other?’

‘N-no?’

‘There you have it. We also know when you’ve been with any of the others outside the house as well’

‘What?? How?!’

‘Silly,’ he pets your hair as he teases you, ‘ Lee can smell it on you when you come home’

‘Oh God’ she cries, mortified, she covers her face.

‘Such language’ scolds Asmo, acting horrified, ‘to think my girlfriend would bring up Father’s name when I’m right in front of her’

The dramatic teasing pulls her back from her embarrassment.

‘Asmo, what do I do?’

‘Do? Love, whatever do you mean?’

‘I mean, now… what do I do knowing what I know, and knowing what you all know?’

‘Nothing. Live happily and let us care for you. Live in the knowledge that you are loved and will always be loved.’

She does just that. She does have conversations with all of them at some point, because her mind needs concrete proof that everyone is in agreement. She learns that Mammon and Levi go through jealous bouts, but don’t question her love for them, and want this to continue. Even Diavolo is fully on board. Which surprised her, with the royal bloodline and all. Turns out the complication wasn’t so complicated at all.

She feels unworthy of all the love she’s showered with, but she’s also happier than she’s ever been in her life. She doesn’t know what she’s done to deserve such joy, but she refuses to part with any of them. Perhaps it’s the influence of her lovers through the pacts she shares with them… but she takes pride in them, greedily wants to spend time with them, gets envious if they talk to others, gets angry on their behalf, loves and desires them always, revels in their love like Beel at a buffet, relishes in the time she can just be there with them comfortably.

She’s prideful, greedy, envious, wrathful, lustful (and loving), gluttonous, and lazy… with some chaos, diligence, patience, loyalty, and grace mixed together. She is my MC.

I hope you all enjoyed this. I’ve really been wanting to in some way show you all my MC, but my art abilities suck. So I gave you an imperfect narrative.

[lovetei]

Okay, this have been on my mind for a while now…

So! MC in the manga is a sheep (get turn into a sheep because they aren’t familiar with the magic? Idk). I was just wondering that at the end of the exchange programme how would the boys react to Mc’s “true form”

This is such an interesting thing to write 🖤

By the way, this is another request stuck in my drafts, I promise I'll try to make up for it and post more :')

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Their reaction to Sheep MC changing into their human form at the end of the exchange program

Warnings: Slightly suggestive, no proofreading, wrong grammar, spelling errors, kind of long

Versions: Demon brothers, Side Characters

Links: Masterlist

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LUCIFER

It was the end of the exchange program and he's seeing you off

A large portal behind your back

For you, it might be the portal that will lead you to the freedom and whatever normality this program took away from you for a whole year

The portal that you've been waiting for

But for him, it's nothing but a spiral of magic that takes away the only comfort he has

The comfort that he seek for

And his twisted heart aches whenever he remembers it

But he hides it off with a smile and a wave

He waved at you one last time before you turned around

"Uhm... I feel weird-"

What?

The extreme feeling of despair left his body for a second and was covered with confusion

That soon turned into worry as your sheep form completely fell to the ground

The noises you're making is not normal and they're all panicking because they've never heard of it before

And the fact that you started glowing didn't ease their mind.

Could it be that some higher demon planted some spell inside of you?

IS THAT SPELL SUCCESFUL?!-

MC..?

He looked at you shock

No, more like-

He looked at your new form, shocked.

The way your naked body is laying on the ground right in front of him...

Right in front of them..?

He can't help but sigh and thought that, everything would have been fine, perfect even, if you turned into this form in front of him

But no, you just have to turn into your original self in front of everyone

Now he can't even embrace you.

All he did was take his coat off and throw it to your body as his face flush red.

You turned around to look at them as you clutch his coat with that adorable expression before you run off and enter the portal

He's left there, shocked and speechless

He didn't know what the hell just happened

But what's he's sure of is that he's going to get you back

And you're going to show that expression to him one more time

But that time, it will just be the two of you, alone.

MAMMON

This man is bawling his eyes out

His original plan is to watch you leave as he cries and once you're gone he will walk it off like a real man, with tear stains of course.

He set his mind to it, gambling for the whole week after you leave so that he can forget you

Even for just a moment

But no,

You won't even let him have the peace of mind

Or leave him with a nice memory

Instead your sheep body dropped to ground and made everyone think that you're about to die!

But you know what more you did?

You turned into a human!

Your human form!

Naked!

He went from 😭 -> 🤨 -> 😮 -> 😭 -> 😳 in a mere minute

He just stood there with a flushed face

A blushing dumbass who don't know what to do but watch as Lucifer threw his coat on you

And watch you run away with that cute expression, embarrassed expression on your face.

Gosh

You drive him insane

Now he's all fired up, willing to destroy the mortal world just to get you back in his arms.

LEVIATHAN

This one too is bawling his eyes out

While holding his camera of course

He's filming every part of this

He's standing there like "WAHHH MCCC! W-Wait is the angle r-right..? I need to capture how b-beautiful MC is..." while sobbing words out.

His hands are holding the camera shakily but the movement suddenly stopped when you said you feel weird...

His eyes shot open and his tears stopped

Are you okay..?

. . .

He's malfunctioning the moment you dropped to the ground and started to glow

And he malfunctioned even more when you turned into your human born, as naked as the moment you were born.

Now his sniper instincts came in and the camera is as focused as a laser

He's staring at you wide eyed, face as red as a tomato and his mouth agape

He doesn't know what's happening

But what he's sure of is that he needs to film it

Everything

The moment you grabbed Lucifer's coat and hugged it to cover yourself

And the moment you stood up and looked at them with that cute expression

But the moment you left, he hid the camera

This film is for his eyes only...

He's gonna need this for a 'project'...

And you know what else he needs?

Tissues.

SATAN

He's smiling everything off as he watches you leave

But you know deep down some anger is boiling

Considering how hot his pact mark is getting

Because, why do you have to leave..? Did he fail to satisfy your standards..?

He can't help but roll his eyes internally

But in the middle of his self talk, you spoke

"I kind of... Feel weird-"

And then you dropped to the ground and he's suddenly panicking

Any other feeling except for confusion flushed out of his body

He ran up to you immidiately but the light dimmed down and your naked body lay before him

He can't help stop in his tracks and just look at you and blush

Before he can even register anything, Lucifer's coat is already hugging your body

Which causes another wave of wrath to hit him

He just glared at Lucifer and saw that he's not even paying attention to him

He's looking at you

With a foreign expression in his face

So he also looked at you and...

Why the fuck did you have to look so majestic..?

You met his gaze and your face flushed before you ran out and entered the portal

He just remained still

Looking at the ground where you once sat

He can't move, he's shaking so much...

He feels like he's about to explode...

ASMODEUS

"WAHHH MCCC!" He whined out as he openly sobbed

He loves you so much!

Just why do you have to leave him!

He can't help but pout at you as you say your final goodbye

But what about him?

Why do you have to leave him too!

I mean it's understandable that you want to leave them because they're all such nuisances to you why him?!

He can't help it-

What do you mean you're feeling weird?

He's slowly walking to your direction

But you started to glow..?

Suddenly he's bearing his teeth expecting enemies around

Oh wait...

Oh...

You're...

Naked...

His mind is scrambled

He completely stopped working

And he'll probably be out of service for the next few days.

BEELZEBUB

He's probably standing there with Belphie in his arms

He's giving you his infamous puppy smile hoping that you'll give him what he wants

Hoping that you'll fall for it like the usual and ran up to him an dsay he's cute instead of leaving

But there's a part in his heart that knows you won't

He's sad and happy at the same time

He's happy because you'll finally live the way you do back then

But he's sad because you have to leave to do so...

Huh?

You're feeling weird..?

You're glowing, MC!

He's shaking Belphegor awake now

What's happening to you-

. . .

He'll be one of the most respectful and cover his eyes

But he's secretly peaking through the gaps

Your flushed face...

Looks so cute...

You look...

You looked delicious...

Just enough to eat...

Now he's hungry.

Hungry for something... New?

Something that includes you.

BELPHEGOR

He's awake actually

He watched everyone, he heard everyone gave their final speeches to you

But when you were about to leave

He forcefully shut his eyes and leaned on Beel

Hoping that his sin would take over and he fell into some deep slumber

But why of all times... Why isn't it cooperating..?

His brows are furrowed as he forces himself to sleep

But suddenly everyone dropped silent...

So you finally left?

Wha- why is Beel shaking him?-

MC?!

Why the fuck are you glowing now?!

No no no...

Is it the work of some demon?!

Who-

. . .

You're... Naked...

In front of everyone...

Haha...

Beel better hold him back or else he's about to run after you and do what his brothers can't

But he knows you won't like that.

So he clinged to Beel-

Haha...

Why do you look like that?!

That's his last thought before he ran and almost caught you but the portal closed

Immidiately.

"Hmm... What a shame~"

He'll make sure he'll catch you next time.

[candychasse]

Yandere Sim Male Rivals dealing with the, 'me, my s/o, and their 500 dollar life sized mareep plush' meme being their reality.

Characters: Osano, Amao, Kizano, Oko, Aso, Osoro, Megamo.

Contains: g/n reader, not proofread, fluff. At least five of the guys having beef with a plushie.

Osano.

"What the hell is that."

^ exact words he said when you came home with the adorable pokemon plush.

Despite his harsh words he does think the sheep is cute.

He will complain, like a lot.

"Move the damn sheep." He says loudly as he tries to get comfy in bed. You groaned slightly and moved the sheep to the other side of you. "Thank-" he stops himself as you turn your back to him! "Y/n." He calls out. You turn again to face him, bringing the Mareep to face him too. "Yes?" You ask, a grin slowly growing. "...whatever." He says turning his back to you, 'two can play that game' he thinks.

Two actually cannot play that game. In the morning you found him turned facing you, holding the Mareep tight. You snicker to yourself as you take a photo of him.

Amao.

He's not particularly the biggest fan of mareep, however, he does understand how much the plush means to you.

I'd imagine he'd try to convince you to move mareep somewhere else like, "Why don't we move Mareep to the couch so they can watch TV?"

^when that obviously didn't work. He accepted his fate.

You had just wrapped up closing the bakery for the day and headed upstairs in order to destress and enjoy the rest of your evening. You headed into your room to pick out pajamas, when you saw it. Amao carefully making the bed and placing Mareep front and center on the freshly made bed. "There!" He said with a smile. Your heart melted and you practically tackled him in a bear hug for his kindness toward Mareep.

Kizano.

He actually hates the sheep. No secret love of it or anything.

He thinks mareep is ugly and takes up too much space in bed.

It's the dead of night, you're sleeping peacefully in bed curled up with mareep. Kizano had just got home from a late night film shoot. He did his skincare routine and prepared for bed, but as he gets into bed he feels an unfamiliar lump in the bed. He tries not to make much noise as he pulls back the blanket and investigates the lump....

It's an ugly sheep?

He blinks in confusion for a few moments then simply casts the sheep aside to the ground, adjusting his body to replace the sheep's former place in your arms.

In the morning he pretends not to know of the plushie when you point out it must've fallen in the middle of the night.

"What plushie, my love?"

Bs.

Oko.

I think he'd just get depressed.

Like, I think he'd get self conscious. He really does like snuggling with you late at night, it's even better than summoning demons to him! But now all you do is snuggle Mareep.

Is he not good enough?

You only find out about his feelings towards Mareep during a late night while your a cleaning a stain off her.

"Hey.. Why don't we leave Mareep somewhere else, because she's dirty..?" Oko asks cautiously. You giggle slightly at the thought. "Nah! I'm sure I can clean her up enough!" You replied, dead set on removing the stain. "...great..." He whispers. "What was that?" You question. "I mean great! It'd be a shame if you couldn't cuddle them." He elaborates, but you know Oko, and you know when he's lying, so you decide to toy with him a little. "Well, if I couldn't get the stain off I'd just cuddle with you probably." You say 'off handedly'. "..oh so now you'd want to cuddle with me...." He mutters under his breath. You gasp finally putting the pieces together. "You're jealous of Mareep!" You exclaim loudly. His face turns flush from embarrassment, "..no." He replies turning his face away from you. A common tell of him hiding his feelings. "Well, if you are jealous of Mareep, which I know you're not, I would want you to know that I only got Mareep because I got lonely those nights you would run off to summon demons..." You confess, awkwardly looking down. "Oh, well, uhm, I'm not going out tonight.." He says and your eyes sparkle a little. "Get over here!" You say with a small smile, pushing Mareep to the side and holding Oko closely.

Aso.

LOVES THE DANG MAREEP.

He does however unintentionally abuses the Mareep. Think accidentally sitting on it, using it as a table, etc.

he says sorry to the Mareep everytime.

Throws it in the air really high that it hits the ceiling, BUT he does catch it!

It was a rare occasion where Mareep was chilling on the end of the bed while you and Aso cuddled. Right as the familiar embrace of sleep enveloped you both, a familiar thud was heard. "Aso, Aso, you kicked Mareep off the bed." You said while rubbing his shoulder to try and awaken him. He groaned "huh? Oh shoot! My bad..." He whispered, getting out of the warm bed and picking Mareep up from the floor. You giggled slight at the sight of him placing it carefully onto the bed and returning to your side.

Osoro.

Intentional Mareep abuse. Have you seen those tik toks of squishmallow girls' boyfriends beating up their squishmallows instead of just like, hugging it? Yeah that's Osoro.

HE DOESN'T HATE MAREEP THOUGH! Shockingly (heh get it) he likes the plushie.

"Osaro you're so mean! Mareep didn't do nothin' to you!" You exclaim with a gasp as he absentmindedly punches the mareep. "He's an inanimate object Y/n, he can't feel pain." Osaro replies while punching the Mareep again.

But like Kizana he is not above tossing it a side in order to cuddle with you.

Unlike Kizana he wouldn't put it on the floor but just to the side opposite of the one you're laying on.

Osaro tossed and turned in the middle of the night, to say he had a rough dream would be the least to say. He tries to move closer to you but is blocked by the giant Mareep. Grunting he grabs the Mareep and tosses it to where he was formerly laying. He wraps his arms around your waist and sighs. Now that he's in your arms his dreams seem nicer, even if that does sound silly.

Megamo.

He's a busy guy, being the heir to a mega corp, having his own passions, it's a lot on his plate. So most days he come home by the time you're already asleep.

I doubt he noticed you owned a life sized Mareep until one day...

Once again, we begin our story in the dead of night, you're tucked in, nice and warm. Meanwhile Megamo had just came in from the frigid rainstorm outside. He wasn't all too wet so he just changed clothes and headed to bed. Little did he know, the lump he was cuddling was not you.

In the morning, Megamo was face to face with a sheep's face instead of yours. To say he was a little upset would be an understatement.

He tries bribery, offering you any normal sized plushie you want.

He tries threatening saying that since you're cuddling Mareep you can't cuddle with him.

He even thinks about just throwing it out. But he knows how much it means to you. So he just silently moves it to the couch everyday, and every evening it's back on *his spot* on the bed.

He despises that damn sheep.

[blueicequeen19]

Broken Toy

Warnings: non-con, Dark JJ, oral, overstimulation, orgasm denial, reader got JJ fired, unprotected sex

I yank her into my bedroom, slamming the door shut and shove her against the dresser. The noise of the party is muffled but I can still feel the thump of the bass letting me know if she screams, no one will hear her. Her big doe eyes glare up at me defiantly as I crowd her space but I can see the way she’s trembling. I know she’s scared.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” I growl, caging her against the door with an arm on either side. I hate how good she looks. I’ve never seen her with a speck of makeup on and I can’t be the only guy that’s noticed her tonight. She’d cause a fucking wreck.

“I was invited. If I’d known it was your place, I wouldn’t have come.” She tries to keep her voice firm but she fails. I don’t buy her bullshit. This girl is a wolf in sheep’s clothing. A snake in the grass, waiting to strike. She hides behind fake innocence and her manners but I know the truth. I plan to make her life fucking miserable for what she did.

“You don’t belong here.” I snap, letting my gaze openly descend her body in the tight little dress she showed up in. I can tell she’s not wearing a bra and it makes me wonder what kind of panties she’s wearing under something so tight.

“Then let me leave.” She pleads, her cheeks red with embarrassment.

“Where’s the fun in that?” I lean in until I can smell her sweet scent mixed with her shampoo. I bite back a groan and resist the urge to kiss her neck. I love that I can see her pulse racing. That she’s breathing so quickly, trying to catch her breath.

“JJ, please just—.”

“Tell me you love sucking cock.” I demand in her ear, loving the way her body stiffens. Goosebumps appear along her bare shoulder.

“I’ve never—.”

“Say. It.”

“I love sucking cock.” Those words mixed with her breathy whimper have my cock hardening in my sweats.

“Now say, fill me with your cum JJ.”

She swallows. “Fill me with your cum JJ.”

“Say, you own all my holes.”

“You own all my h-holes.” She sniffles and this time I can’t stop myself from kissing just below her ear, pressing my cock against her so she feels how hard I am just from her words. I don’t care if I made her say them.

“You don’t talk or even look at another dude until I say so.” My free hand finds her throat so I can grant myself easier access to her neck. She whimpers, her body rigid against mine as I leave sloppy wet kisses.

The thought of marking her makes me feral. I want every guy on the island to know she belongs to me. I don’t realize how hard I’ve bitten down until her nails bite into my chest where she’s pushing against me. One of her tears lands on my cheek and I smile as I release her flesh and trail my tongue up the side of her face.

She makes a frustrated noise, her eyes narrowing into slits as I step back. When she notices the bulge in my sweats, her eyes nearly bug out and she flushes a deep shade of pink. But not as dark as the huge hickey on her neck.

“Take your panties off.”

“No.”

My eyes widen for a moment before I take a step forward and she quickly shoves her hands under the skin tight material. She struggles but I watch in fascination as her dress moves higher and higher with her attempts until just when I think I’ll see the triangle covering her pussy, she bends to shove them down her legs and leaves them on her ankles as she works her dress back down her thighs.

“Don’t move.” I instruct just as she makes a move for the panties. She freezes before putting her back against the door, eyes wide as she watches me kneel in front of her. I carefully lift each of her high heels so I can free her panties. My plan was to humiliate her but now I’m losing it. I look up at her as I bring her cute little pink panties to my nose and sniff, making me groan from her scent alone. I don’t miss the wet spot either. She gasps, quickly looking away in humiliation but I grab her leg roughly in warning.

“Don’t look away from me again.” I growl, her wide eyes quickly finding mine again. I’ve never been more turned on in my life. I don’t even recognize myself.

I shove her panties in my pocket and quickly lean forward, burying my face in her dress just over her pussy. She whimpers, attempting to pull her hips back but it’s no use. I shove her dress up over her hips the best I can and nearly cum in my pants from the site of her shaved pussy slick with arousal. She’s glistening and I can’t stand it. I don’t know if I want more or less. Do I love it or hate it that she’s so turned on?

“Have you ever had anyone done here?” I ask, looking up at her trembling form. She shakes her head, keeping her pleading eyes on me.

“Good.” I lean forward but she bucks in fear. I slap her thighs hard, making her cry out as I push her legs open a little wider.

“If you move I’ll bite.” I hold her terrified gaze so she knows I’m serious before I dive in. Her scent and taste overwhelms me immediately. A soft sob escapes her as I lick and suck and pry her with my tongue. I use my hands to spread her lips and easily find her swollen clit. I suck it into my mouth and she mewls, her knees threatening to buckle as I suck harder and harder.

I resist the urge to make her cum. The urge to hear her cries and moans. The urge to hear her scream my name. I have to remind myself that this isn’t for her pleasure. It’s for me. So I back off her clit and lick everywhere but there. When her breathing comes quicker and needier, I move to a different spot. I tease her until her arousal drips down her thighs and my chin. Until her knees are fucking shaking and I know she’s moments away from fisting my hair and shoving my head where she needs.

It takes every ounce of my strength to pull back and meet her gaze. Her eyes are hooded, lips parted, and her cheeks are flushed. She’s fucking delicious.

“You don’t get to cum.” I don’t wipe my mouth as I slowly get to my feet and she seems to sag against the door in defeat. When my hand shoots out to fist the back of her hair, the lust is quickly replaced with fear as I yank her forward and smash my mouth over hers. She’s too stunned to put up much of a fight as I make her taste herself. Taste her desperation and need on my tongue. I devour her until she’s putty in my hands and leaning into me. When she moans, I pull back with a snarl. I don’t want her to see how much I want this. I don’t want her to get any sort of pleasure from this. This is me owning her.

“Your turn.” She blinks at me until I put a hand on each of her shoulders and force her down.

“JJ, please—.” Her begging has my cock pulsing in my sweats and I know she can see it by the way the whites of her eyes are showing.

“Save your begging for when I’m balls deep inside your sweet pussy. Now take it out.” I grind out my words, moving my hand to her hair to guide her movements.

“All this over a job?” She spats, shooting me a defiant look as she tentatively reaches for the waistband of my sweats. Her fingers brush over my skin as she peels the material down and I can’t help but shudder.

“I warned you.” I snap, intrigued with her delicate movements. I’m not wearing any boxers so when her hand slides inside the material and immediately meets my cock, she gasps, shooting me a surprised look.

“You’re not wearing boxers and you have a house full of people?” She scoffs, her voice soft as she wraps her hand around my cock and pulls it free.

“Easy access for when I’m getting my dick sucked.” I taunt, her lip rolling in disgust. “Now put it in your mouth.”

“No.” She removes her hand. I step forward, pinning her against the door with my legs. She glares at me, my cock in her face.

“Either it goes in your mouth or it goes in your ass.” My threat hangs in the air for a moment before you wraps her lips around the weeping tip, making my knees weak as I brace myself against the door. I try not to make any sounds but I can’t stop them as she works just the tip until she’s more comfortable to take more. I’m barely half way in and she’s gagging, backing off only to try again.

“Suck harder.” I rasp, unable to tear my eyes away as she moves back and forth, hallowing out her cheeks until I can hear the suction. My balls tighten and sparks shoot up my spine as she sucks. I don’t want this to be over yet so I shove her off with a growl and yank her to her feet.

“What—.” I pull her into the attached bathroom and slam the door before making her bend over the vanity.

“You want to make it up to me? You want all to be forgiven and go back to the way it was?” I demand, our eyes locked in the mirror.

“Y-yes.”

“Then pull your dress back up and spread your legs.” I’m shaking with need, hanging on to the last bit of restraint I have left.

“You promise?” She whispers, already tugging her dress up then widening her stance as she sniffles. Her makeup is running but I don’t think she’s ever looked more beautiful. I love that she looks like that because of me.

“Yes. Arch your back. Stick your ass out.” I push down on her back and she juts her ass out as I step up behind her. I palm her bare ass, my cock leaking precum all over the pretty flesh.

“Are you going to wear a condom?” She whispers.

“What do you think?” I snap, guiding the head to her wet entrance.

“I-I’m not on anything. I’m a virgin.” I suspected that but having her confirm it only lights my blood on fire more. I’m the first to have her. She’s mine.

“Then you better hope I pull out in time.” Her eyes widen and I thrust in, tearing through her hymen in one go and making her scream out. She’s so wet that there’s very little resistance but I feel it when her opening finally gives. My eyes nearly roll into the back of my skulls as her tight, wet, heat washes over me all the way down to my toes. I give her a moment to adjust, until she lifts her head and looks at me through the mirror.

“Pull your dress down. I want to see your tits while I fuck you.” I pull her upright by her hair and she whimpers, tightening around my cock and making me groan as she quickly frees her tits. I reach around to palm one, rolling the hardened bud between my fingers until she’s mewling and backing up against me.

“You’re so goddamn tight I can barely breathe.” I growl into her hair as I slide my hand up to squeeze her throat. Her hands find my waist as I slowly pull out half way then thrust back in. We both moan.

“Tell me it feels good.” I whisper, my lips grazing her ear as I give another short thrust.

“It does. It feels good.” Her breathy voice has me thrusting in harder and her sounds turn to pained whimpers, her nails digging in my hips.

“My good little broke toy.” I turn her head and kiss her hard, fucking her mouth with my tongue while I fuck her pussy with my cock. Her inner walls begin to quake and I know she’s close. Her lips wrap around my tongue, sucking it like she did my cock and I nearly lose it.

When I finally jerk away from her mouth she moans loudly against my lips, her eyes closed as she lets the pleasure wash over her. I hate that I like kissing her. I hate that I love the sounds she’s making.

I yank out with growl, noting the blood on my cock as I open the shower door and turn on the sprayer. I grab her arm and haul her in with me. She doesn’t protest as I shut the door and the hot water rains down on us. Her dress is bunched up around her waist, leaving her pussy and tits free, her heels on the bathroom floor, and her makeup now running down her face as her hair sticks to her.

She looks different now that I’ve been inside her. Like she’s no longer afraid and wants more of me.

“Legs together. Wrap your arms around my neck.” I instruct, pressing my body to hers as I guide my cock between her thighs. Her arms wrap tightly around my neck as we both watch my cock slide between her thighs. I bend my knees as I find her entrance and when I do, I thrust upwards and she cries out, her head falling back against the shower wall.

“Oh— god—.” She moans, pushing her tits against my chest as her back bows off the wall.

I don’t hold back as I fuck her hard and fast, resisting the urge to kiss her again or to lick up the water droplets running down her face. I want to taste her everywhere. I want to be inside her everywhere although I can’t get any closer. I brace one arm next to her head and grab her bouncing tit with my free hand, twisting her nipple.

She moans loudly, her hands fisting my hair as I fuck her way harder than any virgin should be fucked the first time. The sound of skin slapping skin increases along with her moans and whimpers.

“JJ!” My movements falter when she cums hard and suddenly, erupting from her so powerfully that she sucks in a breath to scream until I clamp my hand over her mouth. She shakes uncontrollably, her eyes rolling back as her pussy chokes the life out of me.

“Fucking shit.” I bite out, unable to hold mine back anymore as I step back and fist my cock. I only have to stroke it once and spurts of cum meet her tits, stomach, and mound. I love it.

We’re both panting for air and the water is starting to get cold but all I can think about is how I want to do that again. Only this time I want to fuck her in my bed until she screams my name, her nails leaving marks down my back.

She’s blinking at me, her eyes dazed with lust as she waits for my next move. I’m suddenly wishing she’d fought me more. But that just means that she gave in and trapped me in her web. I didn’t win. She did.

“Get out.”

“B-but—I don’t have any clothes!”

“Not my problem.”

[rishiimaa]

HI HI! I was the person who requested the “jjk with a child who’s tooth was growing or lost a tooth” which was 😮‍💨🤌. Then I had another thought where jjk characters child/children first start crawling/walking 🤔(I’m having a baby fever rn) please lmk if these requests are bothering you 😭😭

Nope! Requests’ll never bother me, and if they do, it’s not your fault, I’d just turn the requests off, so please, do more requests! I love it when people give me attention anyways!

Anywho… onto the fanfic!

Fluff

Yuji, Megumi, Gojo, Geto

Yuji

——————————————————————

Yuji would be the reason your son walk, he’d be watching football and cheering on, and he’d feel a bump on his leg, only to find out his son was standing!

——————————————————————————————

“Wh— God damn it! How do you fucking fumble that?!” Yuji yelled at the top of his lungs, earning a glare at you from the kitchen.

“Watch your mouth in front of C/N and stop yelling, I don’t want his first words to be that.” you narrowed your eyes at Yuji, easily making him shrink in size as he scratches his neck.

“Sorry, babe, it’s just I can’t understand why my team is fumbling so many balls! Especially the easier ones…I could totally catch that…”

You roll your eyes before getting back to your cooking, and you let out a breathy laugh, it was absolutely impossible to stay mad at Yuji, he’s just too sweet for his own good…so sweet that you even feel bad for scolding him.

Yuji laid back onto the couch in a pout, this game was totally scripted…all these years of rooting this stupid team just to lose again…so annoying.

While Yuji was having his temper tantrum, C/N, required his father’s attention, he tried reaching for him, throwing toys, making random babble noises, and even throwing toys at him! (Which never really makes it that far…But it’s worth a try!)

But nothing gained Yuji’s attention, his focus was on the game and only the game, which made C/N mad.

Suddenly…C/N made an attempt to stand by himself, by placing his feet on the floor and allowing to push himself up, just like his daddy does!

C/N began to finally wobble towards Yuji, slowly, but surely, C/N made it to Yuji’s leg, and began to punch it softly, this caught his attention, so when he looks down to his knees, he saw a very close standing wide-eyed C/N.

The silence grew…and both stared at eachother for a while, before Yuji finally realized what was going on.

“HOLY SHIT—!”

“Yuji!”

Megumi

——————————————————————

When C/N finally learns how to crawl, it took everything in Megumi not to cry, because if he did, he’d never hear the end of it from you…of course he ends up crying anyway…

——————————————————————————————

It was a normal day with the family, since it was the weekend, everyone was off work…So the Fushiguro family was stuck at home, Megumi was reading a book, you were watching TV (and a bit of baby clothes shopping), and little C/N was just laying on her belly on a blanket on the floor full of toys.

You continued to show Megumi the baby clothes you “scrolled” upon, but Megumi could never be irritated, he loved to hear you talk.

“Megumi! Look! This one has cute little sheep on it! You can also match with her—“

“Pass.”

Megumi groans, avoiding eye contact, you seethed at him with the sudden interruption.

“Pardon me? What gives you the right to say no to me? I pushed out C/N for two hours straight, and you can even match with her?”

Megumi groaned once again before pulling you on top his lap and giving you a light peck on your cheek.

“I meant with the sheep one, do the wolf one, that one’s cooler.” Megumi points at the screen, you let out a snort.

“What—“

“You’re so cute Megs, who knew i’d be married and have a baby with the cutest man in the world.”

“Could you not call me cute? That’s embarrassing…”

While you and Megumi were gushing, the ball that C/N was playing with rolled away, she tried to reach for it instead.

She made a sound, to alert her parents, but to no avail, no one responded. She pouted before lifting herself off the ground and deciding to crawl by herself to get the ball.

“Megumi, where’s C/N?”

Megumi looked over at the empty pile of blankets, both of you quickly went to your feet, but as you both stood up, you see a little C/N reaching for a small red ball.

You squealed with joy and you ran to your daughter and picked her up, simply out of pure excitement, you didn’t even let her finish crawling, but Megumi simply just stood there in silence.

then suddenly…you hear sniffs over your squealing, you look over at Megumi, covering his face, as the room fell silent.

“Megumi…Megumi are you crying over—“

“Shut up…”

Megumi said, wiping his tears but of course, knowing you, you didn’t shut up.

“Aww!! Look C/N, see how much your papa loves you? All those times he’s been mean doesn’t mean anything after all!” You tightly hug C/N, before she asks to be put down.

You put her down, when you do, C/B begins to crawl to her Papa, making happy baby noises as she reaches for Megumi for carrying. This definitely snaps Megumi as he lifts her up, hugging C/N once again with small sniffles sounding off…except this time it’s a bit louder…

You snap a picture, once again.

“I am definitely hanging this up.”

Gojo

——————————————————————

It takes Gojo so many attempts to get C/N to walk, and when she does…Hysterical, absolutely an abomination of tears and a camera roll full of pictures that he puts in his wallet.

——————————————————————

“Come on sweet pea…! I know you can do it! Walk to daddy, I got you!” Gojo said in a whiney tone, reaching out for his daughter, only for her to crawl to him and give him a sweet hug.

“It’s adorable that you did this, but I’d rather you’d walk…”

Gojo said sadly as C/N blew bubbles. He sighs of defeat before grabbing the remote and deciding to put it on spongebob, during that time it was C/N’s favorite show.

“Satoru, you know C/N’s not gonna walk when you ask her to, it’s gonna have to come natural.” You sigh, sitting on the couch after getting out the shower.

“I told you to let me get in the shower first! You take all the hot water!”

“Hm…well guess what, I’m a full grown woman! Should’ve been mature and went in yourself!”

Gojo pouts, before continuing to fidget with the spongebob plushy that C/N loves so much.

It makes sense that C/N would love spongebob, who wouldn’t, first of all, and second, her dad is Satoru Gojo, maybe it’s just genetic…

“Ugh…I can’t understand why you like this episode C/N, this one sucked.”

Gojo said, as if C/N could understand.

She acts like she does, because she looks at her dad and tilted her head, Gojo simply just looked at her with a pouty expression.

C/N furrowed her eyebrows, she took the insinuation that her dad was sad! And she couldn’t have that.

And so when Gojo wasn’t looking, she took the chance to walkover to him to comfort, with a little bit of struggling, she finally began to walk to her dad, you noticed this and pointed it out right away.

“Toru, Toru! Look! C/N in walking!” you pointed at C/N, but you always pull pranks on Gojo like this, so he simply tirelessly looked at her, not believing you at first

“Ohh yeah…and I’m the weakest man on—“ Gojo stops mid-sentence when he sees C/N slowly waddling towards him, in an instant, Gojo opens his arms so C/N could fall in them, she then places her chubby hand on Gojo’s cheek, and made a blabble that sounded like ‘there, there.’

You counted down from thee till the waterworks come…

Three

Two

one..

Sniff

hell yeah! right on queue!

i “You’re so adorable, C/N, I love you so much, never grow up and stay this age forever…” Gojo tightly holds C/N before he whips out his phone and takes a picture of his now standing daughter and a tearful Gojo.

Y/N thinks that those tears will never stop.

Geto

——————————————————————

Geto was obviously the calmest out of everyone in this list, but this time, you were the reason the twins walked, they were going through that phase when they only wanted their mother.

——————————————————————————————

Geto was currently giving both the twins a bath, he was struggling, as G/C/N was squirming around and is avoiding getting scrubbed, but of course B/C/N was being compliant.

“G/C/N…please…at least let me clean your butt, you literally just took a shit.” Geto sighed of defeat, you walked to the bathroom with a basket full of laundry.

“Any luck, Sugu?” You said, half-joking, Geto just shook his head and sighed

“G/C/N is refusing to take a wash…the most she’s done was get in the water” Geto almost lets out a whine. Before you let out a chuckle.

“It’s okay, Sugu, G/C/N is just stubborn like that, I’ll put your clothes in the washer, ‘kay?”

Geto gave a sound of approval, before trying again with G/C/N, she dodges the wash cloth once again while B/C/N was playing with a toy boat.

B/CN accidentally threw the toy out of the bath (don’t ask how), causing him to whine, Geto sighs, getting up to go and get the boat.

G/C/N took this opportunity to make a run for it after seeing her mom walk by, she crawled out of the tub, and stood on her feet, her naked body standing proudly, B/C/N said a “woah” noise, following his sister, just a bit more clumsily.

As if it wasn’t their first time walking, they both dashed out of the bathroom, following their mother.

“What the hell—? Y/N! Catch the twins! They’re making a run for it!”

Geto said in a panic, it would be easy to catch up to them, but they were small, so it was hard to grab them.

“Making a run for it—on my goddd!!” You said in a panic, running over at the door of the laundry the laundry room as both naked twins jumped on their mother laughing out loud, Geto sighed a breath of relief when he finally makes it to the twins, he couldn’t chose between being happy that they finally walked, or he should be pissed that not only did they wet the carpets, but they ran around the house naked.

“Well…who knew this’ll be their first walk…”

Geto ran his hand through his soft locks, sighing as he bent down to their level.

“Sugu, it seems they won’t take one unless I’m there, how about we all just take a bath together?”

[eyra]

I hope you’ll forgive my selfishness, but I am dying to ask: What did Remus think the first time he saw Sirius in Beneath a Big Blue Sky??

today is your lucky day. I've mentioned a few times that I've dabbled in the possibility of one day writing more bits and pieces in the Beneath a Big Blue Sky world. whether or not this will ever all see the light of day I'm not sure, but since you asked, I'll share a little snippet of Remus and Sirius meeting for the first time - from Remus's point of view.

enjoy 🐑🐑 x

“Mr Lupin, is it?”

Christ.

Remus nods slowly, shaking the other boy's hand. "If you like," he mutters. If I must be, he thinks. What a mess. What an absolute pain in the arse. "Two strong lads," Lyall had asked the agency for, and Remus knows because he was in the next room listening, and still smarting over the fact that his old dad wanted to hire help anyway. "We'll be reet," Remus had insisted, shaking out his left arm in proof that his shoulder was mostly healed, which it was. They would've managed: he still had his other arm, and all the ewes looked in good health so far, and bringing in two strangers to help run the season seemed like a fine waste of money to Remus and something they'd not done since he'd turned fifteen and proven that he was good and capable of handling just as much work as Lyall during the lambs, and he'd felt all kinds of embarrassed when Lyall had implied that this year he might need some help. As if he were now a problem to be solved, or somehow less of a man this year than he was last year, and certainly less than he ought to be.

But if they must get help - if Lyall must hire someone for a few months - then at the very least Remus had hoped that the workers who arrived would be up to the job. A couple of veterinary students, or something; someone who knew their way around a sheep, and it hadn't seemed too big an ask. As it is, the two boys standing dumbly in front of him on the station platform look less suited to farm work and more like they should be standing in a shop window somewhere, with their brand new boots and spotless, neatly-pressed cream trousers. Cream trousers, and all.

Remus remembers, one night in the late winter not long after the accident, being laid up in his bed in front of the fuzzy little television Hope had insisted on setting up in his room to keep him occupied during his recovery. It had a remote held together with Sellotape and a funny round aerial which didn't quite pick up the Freeview signal, and he'd been mindlessly flicking through the scant channels when he'd happened upon some reality programme or other; something about a load of toffs titting about London with daft haircuts and those cream trousers, and he wonders now if the two boys standing in front of him have seen the show, or realise how ridiculous they look.

Or at least, one of them looks ridiculous. The lanky one with the glasses and the palm that's far too smooth to have seen any real work in its life. He's still beaming down at Remus with a sort of manic smile, which sets Remus's teeth on edge - man looks insane - and then Remus lets his eyes slip away to the shorter boy standing next to him. And he's something else altogether. He's all cheekbones and soft, shoulder-length hair, the colour of Whitby jet, and it's tucked on the one side back behind his ear and then there's one pretty strand hanging loosely over his brow, and he's watching Remus uncertainly and when they make eye contact - when the noise of the four-by-four across the car park fades away to static, and the train on the platform huffs out a great cloud of smoke that Remus doesn't see - Remus feels his cheeks grow hot under his tan and something funny happens in his throat, and he thinks to himself: "Wow," and then, straightaway: "That’s bloody inconvenient."

They drive back to the farm in silence, mostly, and Remus swallows three times before asking the boy in the back seat for his name. Sirius, as it turns out; the dog star, and Remus suddenly recalls a night a decade ago when they'd been up on the fell and the air had been balmy and close and Lily had been reading out of that funny old book about the constellations. "What's that one?" Remus had muttered, pointing at a cluster of stars somewhere over the top paddock. Lily had yawned, and flicked over a few more pages. "Canis Major," she'd said around another yawn, and then: "That bright one's called Sirius, it says here," and Remus had squinted up at it, and frowned, and thought it was pretty good, as stars go. 

⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩

[jymwahuwu]

For @blbrrymilk ! 💖(Hope it didn’t bother you...🙈) This is about the reader not wanting to be cum inside💌 tonight I try to write Sampo which I rarely write 😽 sorry if it’s too hardcore😔

Somewhere on a planet there's revelry and partying all night long - Masked Fools is hosting an event here. And you were put here by this bastard Sampo. You stole an ordinary mask and blended in with the crowd, but among the many guests, you were the only one not wearing a mask with the power of Aha's blessing. It's especially obvious that you are like a little sheep thrown into a pack of wolves, exuding the aura of being coaxed and toyed with.

Not all Masked Fools have normal morals - their inner standards of happiness are different after all. After a few slight attempts, someone took off your skirt, and even your underwear mysteriously disappeared. You hurriedly covered your private parts, but found that you were tied up with a gift ribbon, with a thin layer of ribbon tightly covering your private parts, and a bow tied on your chest. The Masked Fools next to him started making noises, urging Sampo to open the "gift".

You chased Sampo to beat him before, but he cooperated and ran away. Only now did you realize that he was actually much stronger than you. He easily carried you onto the celebration table and pulled away the ribbon on your body. He hummed contentedly while kissing your neck, chest and even… you were so embarrassed that you couldn't breathe. This bastard actually buried his head between your legs in front of everyone! You pushed his chest with both hands, "Stop this…!" After that tongue almost mercilessly urged you to orgasm, he switched to his long cock. Plowing your sweet spot and squeezing you. “…you are priceless…amazing…!”

This is probably the climax of the party. The other Masked Fools were also ravaging their treasures, some lined up (you were dizzy, is this true…?) You then remembered something. "Wait…! Sampo, you can't cum in- ” That concentrated load swirls and fills you up, balls against you. In the unbearable pleasure, you had the urge to punch Sampo again.

Sampo pushed your hands back, pecking your cheeks like a bird, and kissing your lips like it was a sweet mating.

[b1mbodoll]

1 im literally in love w you and your brain marry me rfn tf???

2 bull hybrid!hoon omggg >>>

soo now im curious to know ,,, if you had to make every enhypen hyung line member a hybrid what animal do you think they would be

- 🫧 <33

pairings: en- hyungline x f! reader

warnings: hybrids + exhibitionism + dry humping + knotting + himbo! hoonie + size kink + barbed cock! jay + thigh humping + scent kink + jealousy

💌: im in love with u too lets kiss and get married :3 ‘m so glad u liked bull! hoon im goin to press a tender kiss to ur forehead before u go to sleep tn

heeseung is def lamb or bunny hybrid !! he’s so pretty n dainty but quite literally the definition of wolf in sheep’s clothing. he’s so good at making you think he’s an innocent lil thing until he sneaks into ur bed at night n humps ur thigh til his cum seeps into ur pjs ^^ has the cutest pair of fluffy ears n his hair gets soso curly when he sweats while fucking you

jay is an exotic feline hybrid. probably smth like a snow leopard or black panther!!!!! has a long heavy tail, round little ears and the biggest n sharpest pair of canines. his eyes r so sharp n its so easy for him to pin you down with just one look before making his way over to you n draping himself over ur body as he fucks his barbed cock into u n omg ur kitty is the loudest evr his noises r like yowls and hisses !!

jake is def a canine !! i see him as a wolf hybrid thats so exciteable like a lil house puppy but when he smells u ovulating its like all hell broke loose bc he cant stop growling and snarling at other hybrids :( attacks one of the wolf boys you foster bc according to him “the dumb mutt can’t keep his hands to himself” jakey luvs how his knot keeps the two of u soso close !! kisses ur lips and bites at ur throat til his cock softens n his cum leaks out of ur pussy

i wrote bull! hoon n cant get the thought out of my head!!!!!!! he’s so beeg n strong n beefy n sexy but also a little bit of an airhead 😵‍💫 does most thinking with his cock bc he cant get enough of you !!!!!! it doesnt matter where u r or whos around bc he bends you over regardless!!!! fucks you over n over n if a lil moo slips out of him dont bring it up :x he gets so embarrassed

[yourlocalstranger123]

Obey me! x short! Reader

How do they react to short! MC picking them up?

Sorry in advance, if any of them I actually got it wrong of who created it

Bold is reader (Reader is like dominant)

Characters: Diavolo, solomon, simeon

Part 2

Pictures; all from obey me beside 1...

Has a tiny bit of genshin

DIAVOLO

Well this was awkward. You just got called to Diavolo and you just come in to see this. Diavolo holding a plushie of you/sheep [LOL]

"....so what did you call me for?"

He cleared his throat as a distraction from his red face.

"Well, uhm. I am here about your great progress in the exchange program."

As he held the sheep, he talked about your great impression of the other demons and etc. But you were annoyed, why? Because some tall-ass demon called you weak! Oh how you gonna prove then wrong.

"Hey Dia, can you stand up real quick?"

He was surprised by the nickname you gave him but did oblige to your request.

. . .

He doesn't feel his feet on the ground...wait— is [name] carrying him right now?! Huh??? He was like 5x taller than you? How, just how? The confusion was quickly replaced with laughter and amusement.

"Why spend time with that when you can spend time with the real one?"

It did makes sense though. The real one is better, and wayyyy stronger.

Now I just imagine MC just carrying him like;

HoYoLAB artist: Ndeye

(This is the only carry I could find that made sense for our little short MC)

SOLOMON

You were cooking with solomon....wait....solomon...OH SHI—

now you think back, you should not have said yes. Solomon was chopping onions and the classic thing was the onions made him cry. You were about to give him a tissue or something but he was using his hands that touched the garlic! Oh shoot! It was too late....

"AH! FUCK—"

"That was damn dumb of you to do that."

"I know but can you help me now?? At least take me to the hospital to see if I didn't go blind!"

"....we can't...."

"Why??"

"You frickin broke the car."

"Oh, yeah ouch! Well then just bring me to Simeon, he'll patch me up." Solomon washed his hands and rubbed his eyes.

"Alright....."

*swoop*

"I didn't know you knew how to use flying magic." (Solomon's eyes are still closed)

"I don't."

"What?...then why do I feel like I'm not on the ground."

"Because im carrying you."

"Oh, ok."

. . .

"WAIT— WHAT?!"

"Stop screaming or Simeon will have another person to patch up. My ears."

*later*

"Hey, why is Solomon zoning out?" Luke said as he waved his hand in front of Solomon on his tippy toes

"Apparently onions affected him and [name] carried him here....and [name] is quite short too,," Simeon said as he brews some tea.

He hadn't recovered from what happened for multiple weeks. At least you don't need to taste his cooking

SIMEON

You and Luke were planning a surprise picnic for Simeon. Why? Because thanks to him, we didn't have to eat Solomon's cooking!

Luke told you to hurry and get Simeon. And well, you did.

"Oh, hey [name] what brings you here— EEK-!"

...well that was awkward, he covered his face in embarrassment that he made that noise. But anyways he was very surprised that you were carrying him!

Before he could speak you ran towards the picnic and put him down. You went behind the tree and threw some confetti. Well, you used flower petals as confetti.

"You weren't supposed to bring him like this!" Luke argued, and also questioned how did you carry Simeon? He may not or may so ask you later to teach him your ways.

Simeon in the background chuckled at you two. Life was truly great.

[ewesless]

💨💀 Headcanons!

@5mary5

Okay so this is my dirty secret forbidden crack. Here there be talk about bad gas out the ass (I can't find that legendary tumblr post, but if I do I will edit this post.) Edit: As promised! No wonder I couldn't find it :( I bless old chats, thank you old chats.

Mine will be the opposite with the characters breaking the taboo with MC!

MC: Somehow they have never done this in front of anyone. Is it magic? Superhuman levels of self control? Nay, it's because they are a sheep plushie. Laughs at farts because they are pretty immature and like crude humor. So this will be their reaction!

Lucifer: Only in the sanctuary of the bathroom, but he does alone in his room or office. He has the tightest control and the stick up in there helps a bit. Even dead asleep he has ironclad hold over his sphincter. Mammon and the Anti-Lucifer League have tried to cause him to with gas causing food and drinks, but even curses, spells and hexes failed. Does he even fart or is that why he's so cranky all the time? Scolds MC for being immature and regularly chews out his brothers for being vulgar. Strings anyone up by the heels who would have the audacity to fart in front of Diavolo because it makes Diavolo lol and Barbatos looks at him like he's commit a heinous offense.

Mammon: Will hold someone down and fart on them, aka his brothers, by that I mean Levi. He would be embarrassed for letting one slip in front of MC, but when he finds out it makes them laugh and they're okay with it he's relaxes and won't worry about letting them out. Intentionally low pressure ones though and tries to be quiet about it. Will tap Luke someone else on the shoulder and say, "Guess what?" And then fart!! He fooled Luke and Little D. no. 2 with the "pull my finger" trick.

Leviathan: Rancid, third stinkiest because of his food choices and because he will hold his bowels during binge sessions and speed runs. His headphones have advanced noise cancelling now because he was having a gas attack from anxiety during an game night against MC, Diavolo and Barbatos (Because Barbatos was curbstomping him) so all of a sudden he is gifted these fancy headphones??? He doesn't connect the dots because he thought his old pair had good cancelling. When MC is hanging out with him he'll apologize only if they're audible or noticeably stinky. He thought the reason MC was laughing their ass off that fateful game night because he was so funny...

Satan: Third stinkiest. He's accustomed to being alone in his room so when he's reading in the library and wants to be left alone he will rip ass. It smells like a litter box in his room sometimes, but he blames it on Mammon's cooking rather than the cats he is able to smuggle in. He doesn't fart intentionally in front of MC, but he isn't bothered by it when he does because it's a normal bodily function so wht would he be? That's illogical.

Asmodeus: you would not catch him DEAD. He gets an upset stomach occasionally from fad dieting so he takes stomach medicine when he does, but he's an "exclusively in the bathroom" type. He will whenever he's alone though, but he resents it. He thinks his gas smells the least offensive and he's right!

Beelzebub: The stinkiest of stinkies. They have power behind them too, like gale force hurricanes (not really, but you could swear it) when he has eaten certain food. He does not hold back but he does apologize when he belches and farts.

Belphegor: Second stinkiest, silent but deadlies. No apologies, no remorse because he's lazy and his rear is just as lazy and it's a natural bodily function. He uses them to troll his brothers too, but he always gets a particular smirk when he does and they are a creeping death so if someone is observant or wary enough (like Lucifer) they will escape the room.

Diavolo: He got caught off guard by one in front of MC once and it snuck past his defenses unhindered. He almost died from embarrassment and MC almost died from trying not to laugh about it. After that he was profusely apologetic, but MC told him it was fine as they laughed and soon Diavolo was laughing with them. He's always extremely polite and socially graceful about even a stomach gurgle because he has an image (and a Barbatos who is always protecting and enforcing that image) he has trained himself to have an incredible ability to hold them in. (The chat where he had the leg cramp supports this) So when he catches a moment between public appearances or meetings to escape to the bathroom he has to make the most of the opportunity. He farts for funnies in front of Lucifer when they've been drinking because one time he did and Lucifer was so aghast by his gas that he let out a scoff-laugh of disbelief and amusement that the Devildom Prince just did that. Diavolo is hellbent on hearing that cute reaction again and uses it at unexpected moments like a ninja flashbang. With MC he feels like he doesn't have to feel the pressure to be seen as perfect and occasional fartiness (usually when Barbatos is on a kick with certain foods) is just part of him that he can be himself without fear of judgement with them about.

Barbatos: My MC would be in a long term battle of wills against anyone, but particularly Barbatos. They will not fart. He will not fart. No one has given ground in the ?(?) years they have known each other. The reason why? One time he passed gas in front of them and was so ashamed because of looking anything less than completely perfect, flawless and in control that he edited the timeline. He will go so far as to summon portals and step into pocket dimensions to fart.

Luke: Holds them and excuses himself to the bathroom because he's a polite and well mannered boy (in some ways...) and it would reflect negatively on Michael and Simeon for him to do that. If he tooted (his words) in front of MC he would be upset about being gross or uncool in front of them, but MC would reassure him everyone does and that it was kinda funny though, wasn't it? Well ;n; I guess it kinda was... never again.

Simeon: He doesn't exactly hold them back, but he doesn't exactly let them out either. These situations do call for discretion, but he gives it away even if it was overlooked because he laughs a little and apologizes every time. In front of MC it makes him embarrassed, but when he realizes they make MC laugh he's more inclined to be relaxed and might do it for funnies.

Solomon: He has a category of his own. His food may not affect him, but it does affect the smell of his farts. At PH his room smells like absolute rotten ass unless Simeon rushes and airs it out whenever Solomon leaves it because he keeps the door shut and locked and often stays in their a whole day or more. Like Leviathan he'll be busy or distracted and in flow state with his research and magic and not use the bathroom. He can go in the woods no difficulty because he has magic to assist (not like HP wizards though. The man has sensibilities and couth.) He knew MC laughs at farts by observing their reactions to others so sometimes he'll say, "Hey MC." to get their attention and then rip one and laugh with them. During routine inspections of Cocytus Hall Barbatos actually casts a spell on his nose and mouth because of the foul and despicable sham of a sorcerer's fecal particles saturate the air.

Raphael: Because he eats a variety of foods but also regularly eats Solomon's food his are a subcategory of Solomon's. He does not make an expression or reaction and noone else does either because even his farts convey threat and the danger of his rain of spears.

Mephistopheles: When he was a young Demon he was even more anxious about looking good in front of Diavolo and impressing him. He did fart in front of him once and was so mortified that he vowed to never do something so disgraceful again. Will not ever fart in front of MC.

Thirteen: THIS IS THE REASON SHE HATES SOLOMON SO MUCH. She got a severe upset stomach from his food and actually thought about 100 new death traps to murder him with. That was the only reason she didn't kill him on the spot bacause the silver lining was those 100 traps! She would sooner hide out until the extinction of all life before she would pass gas in front of MC or anyone. The number one and only who adheres to the in the bathroom!!!

These are inspired by real life! Especially Mammon and Solomon.

[oncewhenalongtimeago]

Sorry but I think I lost your plot kiss WHEN (/silly)

Sorry, but I Think I Lost Your Plot pt 27

Pairing: Onesided!Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III x Modern!Fem!Reader

Words: 4075

Embarrassing things always happen right before good things.

Tags: Time Travel, Reader into Movieverse, Reader’s POV, Hiccup’s POV

<Previous - Next>

You didn’t pause in your quick scramble away, boots tapping against the wooden planks, though you kept your hands on your face, which felt as if it was on fire.

You were so embarrassed. You had no idea where you were going. 

You yanked your hands away from your eyes as you stumbled.

The sound of hurried footsteps over wood quickly became the sound of padded soles against grass as you reached the outskirts of the village, slightly crouching as you made to half jump half slide off a short ledge made by an outcropping of rocks, hand braced against the top of it. 

You heard the sound of the wind whistling a bit too late.

 Instead of the feel of solid ground underfoot, your stomach lept as you felt something enclose on you, gripping like a vice around your upper arms as you were tugged into the sky.

You let out a yell, half out of embarrassment, partly out of surprise as your feet left the ground, kicking in the air as if you’d still been running.

You glanced up quickly, in a way which hurt your eyes as they strained in their sockets, up towards the big black, scaly chest of a dragon. 

Claws curled and adjusted themselves securely around your arms in a way that was nearly uncomfortable, like if you were a sheep about to be scolded.

You heard what might have been a sorry get lost in the wind.

You knew you were screwed the moment you were pulled over the ocean, legs flailing soundlessly. 

You’d stopped putting as much effort into your wiggling as you’d gotten halfway from the island to the sea stacks on one end of Berk, wind blowing into your face so hard your eyes were almost squinted forcefully shut.

Your arms were stiff and unable to move because of the way Toothless was holding you and the force of his vault through the sky. He wasn’t clenching as hard as he could have been, still light enough that you could feel the drag of the air against your sleeves.

You flew dangerously close to the tops of the stacks and you yelped as he let go, leaving you to stumble and nearly fall off the other end as Toothless circled backs, turning incredibly sharply and loudly, clumsily hopping to his feet behind you.

The sea far, far below bobbed and crashed against the side of the sea stack, which felt much too thin for you to be comfortable.

You felt blown through, that same sharp feeling rising and shivering sharply through all your limbs as if you were falling through the air already as your vision zoomed in and out comedically, like you were watching a distance shot in a cartoon.

You shivered in a way that was cold and tingly and unsettling in the way shivers were only when you had a fever.

You could hear Hiccup ‘Woah-ing’ and asking his dragon, “What the hel was that for?” as you pinwheeled your arms by the edge, the toes of your boots tipping dangerously against the place sunny green moss became smooth stone.

He  quickly rushed up behind you, tipping you back as the wind let out a particularly rough gust against your back.

You felt the collar of your tunic pull, tugging you back presumably by the gentle drawn force of Hiccup's fingers.

“Be careful-”

You landed on your butt against the hard-ish rock, making a sour noise in the back of your throat, nearly falling backwards.

“Sor-sorry,” You glanced up vaguely to see the apologetic, hurried expression pasted on Hiccup’s face as you scooted back clumsily.

You didn’t stop scooting until you were on ground you deemed was safe, which was a hard guess given the sparse distance the top of this sea stack covered. It only spanned maybe three lengths of your height.

You were just a few feet away from the edge, Hiccup backing up behind you in order to make space.

Your heart picked up at the thought, drumming in your chest like hands on a small bongo.

You weren’t sure how you were going to explain just about… Anything, to Hiccup.

A further ways away, meaning only about a yard or two, Toothless was perked and crouched as if to rush after the two of you -both you and Hiccup- if you fell, scrunched up uncomfortably to make up for the little room by the other edge of the stack.

After some grumpy grawping and the extending of his wings as you turned, which made you want to lean away, he jumped to another sea stack, flapping his wings clumsily in an effort to propel himself over.

“What was that- back there?” Hiccup dropped to his knees in front of you as you made a clumsy effort to scoot back around.

“What do you mean?” You squeaked, though you knew a hundred percent what he was talking about, your shoulders so stiff they were nearly at your ears.

The thin dusting of grass and moss under your hands was damp with dew and other sea things, water gathering around your fingers as you shifted from where you leaned back on your arms.

 Hiccup furrowed his brows.

“Do you… I mean-!” His face looked a bit reddish as if he’d been sunburned.

“I don’t-I don’t know?” You responded, stuttering.

“But-”

“You were going to kiss-” His face was a thick puce color now and you weren’t sure if it was because of you or if he was going to have a stroke, “Why did you run away?”

“I-I-”

“Are you-you're shy-?!” Hiccup asked, leaning forwards on his hands and knees. He probably hadn’t met anyone who’d been shy in a moment ever in his life besides Fishlegs, maybe. Did he know that was a thing you could do? “So is it fine if I-?”

“No! I mean, yes? But there-” You inhaled a large, shaky breath, “I mean, you can, but-”

With mild frustration, Hiccup leaned in and pressed his lips to yours.

It happened too quickly for you to liken it back to anything. He moved suddenly and it was nothing more than a press, clumsy and a bit uncomfortable as in one instant one of his front teeth mashed against your lip.

The hairs on the back of your neck pricked and you couldn't tell if it was from unease or something else but you could feel your face heating even further anyways, even as his hand shook, thin fingers falling sort of uneasily over yours.

You weren’t sure if it was a flattering kiss or not. You would definitely thing about it and wonder later, retrospectively.

You sat there, your eyes still open, neck scrunched slightly back in a way that definitely gave you a slight double chin.

Your jaw and shoulders were stiff though you couldn’t think of much else besides that fact that you were there and so was Hiccup.

You couldn’t register anything else, not with any sort of permanence, besides the fact that his lips were dry, probably from flying all the time and letting the forge smoke dehydrate them. But you couldn’t help but to find that charming.

You could feel his arms standing unsteady too as you pulled our hand out and reached forwards, grabbing onto his sleeves, stiff and twitching and firm through trying to be nothing but malleable.

You didn’t push him away.

You closed your eyes and with what you knew, you tried your best to make it something good.

It was a simple thing but it strung something sharp and thin and incredibly raw, sending odd tingles up your legs like sharp growing pains, a feeling you’d become quite familiar with on Berk, though you weren't sure if that was good or bad.

It was definitely weird being so out in the open. The breeze was strong against your back, making you feel sort of translucent and hollow.

You both parted naturally, separating with wide eyes.

You were enamored. 

There was nothing else you focused on but you and Hiccup on the sea stack, and vaguely a quietly displacement of air from somewhere around, a whistled flapping that could have just been the sound of the wind whistling through the narrow crevices in the stacks or Toothless having his fun jumping around and laughing at the two of you.

“I-I- uh,” Hiccup stammered.

You flushed a dusty something, heat dancing over the upper part of your cheeks.

And it was you who initiated another light press like butterfly kisses, a bit too forceful as you threw too much weight behind your hands, still shakily holding onto his arms.

In an effort to balance, the two of you fumbled, Hiccup grabbing onto your arms maybe a bit too hard, pushing you backwards.

You fell onto your back, bumping your foreheads. It was slightly jarring.

You pulled back quickly and with shut eyes, you managed a press of lips to his crown, slightly damp skin and hair pressing against yours.

“Hiccup!”

You both startled, your eyes going wide as Hiccup’s brows furrowed, head turning sharply.

The voice came from- You looked around, though Hiccup seemed to find where his Dad was before you.

 “Dad- What-?” He spoke eventually, voice prickly.

The Chief was on his dragon. Thornado. …And then there was  Gobber.

He was on a purple dragon -a Nightmare- with a large wingspan, definitely borrowed because you knew he didn’t have a dragon. He and it were bobbing and nearly ramming into Thornado as the sour-looking mount dealt with Gobber’s clumsy waving, his arm on its horn and the rapid shifting of his weight as he spoke and gestured.

They were too far away for you to feel anything but a gentle breeze from the beat of their dragons’ wings, though what they had in distance, they more than made up for in vocal range.

You broke out into nervous laughter, letting your head fall back against the grass, wincing when you felt your skull hit stone, “ow.”

“-Well, we go’ nothin’ to worry about then, eh Stoick?” Gobber chortled. You hadn’t caught the first part of that sentence but you could definitely guess at what he had been talking about. You didn’t want to, though.

Hiccup got off of you, sitting up and quickly pulling away the arms by your head as if he’d been burned, nervously rubbing them off on his fur coat, which had you quirking your lips at him with a skeptical frown.

“I’ll leave yeh to it!” Gobber cheered gruffly before kicking his dragon in the chest with his prosthetic. 

The dragon looked as if it was on its last straw, glaring and grumbling up at him in deep, reverberating, raspy growls, yet it turned anyways, nearly whacking the Chief in the head. 

And then after a few moments of silence and listening to Gobber wrestle and argue with his temporary dragon, it was just you and Hiccup and Stoick and the dew dampening the back of your shirt.

“Son,” Stoick seemed incredibly uncomfortable, glancing towards you. His shoulders were slightly hunched, arms closer to the base of Thornado’s neck than his sides, which was awkward as there wasn’t much he could do to be smaller.

You felt incredibly self conscious, aware now that there was nothing keeping you to the floor while the Chief was hovering right in front of you.

It was then that you found it pertinent to sit up, dusting off your sleeves and sort of shivering and shaking your shirt, holding it out at the base, in an effort to clear anything you could off the back.

You didn’t think it was soaked through, just damp enough for you to feel a slight chill when you were laid down, so whatever was there would evaporate on its own in its own time.

You wondered how something so high up could be so wet.

You didn’t look anyone in the eyes.

“I will see you back at the village,” You heard Stoick confirm gruffly to his son before you heard the obvious sounds of him leaving on his dragon, “...It’s about time.”

“Oh, Gods,” Hiccup said, finally, as you turned your attention away from your tunic and the grass and the slight burning of your neck, “My Dad-”

You saw him out of the corner of your eye and heard him clearly- Toothless seemed to have been laughing at him a ways away, chortling in deep inhuman tones. Something about the whole situation seemed to tickle his lizard brain.

“-I can’t believe it,” Hiccup finished, hand on his face. 

You wanted to squeak or curl up into a ball right there in the stack, knees up to your chin, or something. You weren’t sure when the last time was that you’d been a part of something so embarrassing.

“What-?”

“I mean, for the past few years I’ve been trying to-” He turned quickly to you then, as if realizing something, “Did you know that I-?” 

“What-?” You wanted to ask what he meant but you knew. 

The clamoring for attention from something was impossible to miss- the fact that you’d just always seemed to be in its general vicinity, now that you had hindsight, was indubitably harder.

“That I-You,” You knew what he was trying to say- really, your thoughts were going a mile a minute and you guessed his were too. 

“I kind of knew but I kind of didn’t? I don’t know,” You burst out, squalling, “But why- me?”

“I think you’re really- Great?” Hiccup said, “I think you’re great.”

You were slightly confused by that, but it sounded like it meant something to him. 

It would mean something to you. If there was anyone you were going to date, then it would be him.

“I- are you sure?” You asked quickly.

He was the most normal guy on the island- average and smart and snarky when he didn’t think you were looking in ways that made you feel at home sometimes.

He was your closest friend- the closest friend that you had in your age group, anyways.

You weren’t sure whether angry fishermen or bulky older women counted.

“What?”

What were you worth to him? Could he even date you? Really?

It was a jarring thought- mostly jitters that had come to interrupt your quick back-and-forth stutter fest. 

You’d been over it a million times already.

Hiccup was so much- He went from a character to a person to someone you might want to spend beach days with and go on picnics with and help out in the forge with small things.

Was it fair, when parts of his life were laid so plain out for you to see? 

Sure, a few pieces ad been missing and a few things hadn’t really gone the way you’d expected but you knew things about his past and future you, under normal circumstances, would have had no right to know

“You don’t know where I’m from, and I can’t- I’m not sure if I can tell you?” You said pitifully, as Hiccup furrowed his brows, “I don’t know how. I mean- If we’re… I want to be honest.”

He was confused.

You would be freaked out if he wasn’t.

You were crazy, compared to everyone else on the island. This alone was enough to make you crazy, if you didn’t consider any of the other things you’d brought back from the future.

You knew the Viking equivalent of the looney bin was Outcast island, thrown into chaos definitely, now that Alvin was missing. They tended not to be kind to girls, you heard.

If they had any, they were never in good enough shape to show face during war. You had a hard time believing they weren’t all dead, with the way the other Vikings talked about it.

“We can… Work on that,” Hiccup said finally, looking a bit confused, hands pressed flat on the grass in front of him.

Yeah, you could do that.

You hoped he didn’t wonder about why you couldn’t tell him. If he kb=new, he’d think you were insane. Thankfully he didn’t seem to mind too much- he brushed it off pretty quick.

He seemed fine, but he didn’t understand. He wouldn’t.

What would he do, if he ever found out?

You knew what was going to happen with the Red Death -what was going to happen with him- beforehand and you did nothing. Was this something you were going to have to die with?

You supposed things didn’t need to happen now, there was always an eventually. You were going to have a hard time breaking a few things to him, though, when that time came.

You would be dropping hints, though. You owed him and yourself that.

Things didn’t need to be the same, either. If sameness was any sort of real metric, then you would have thrown off its geiger like a bag of salt to the pH of a pool.

He wasn’t supposed to be here at this moment with you, and yet he was.

“So,” Hiccup suggested with a dumb, slightly guilty look, shrugging as you tugged your feet underneath your knees in criss-cross position, “Pick up where we left off?”

“I-” You paused, and raised your eyebrow at him.

Were you really just going to pick up where you’d left off? Right after his Dad left. Wow.

Hiccup looked almost guilty, mostly eager.

You pursed your lips and thought about it for a moment longer, then you laughed hysterically with nerves, cheeks flushing, nearly biting on your nails, nodding, “I guess so.”

You leaned forwards and Hiccup followed suit before you paused for just a second, heart pounding, thinking back to the moment you shared down by the plaza. Did you really have the courage to try this again?

You would definitely be crossing a line, walking straight and completely face-first into crazy the way you had been trying to avoid most of the time you’d spent on Berk, not that you’d succeeded in that front in the first place.

If this was your life now, was it worth it?

You had to say it was.

You clenched your eyes shut and leaned further before you could be deterred by either your own nerves or Hiccups wide-eyed stare. Then you yelped as something small and very, very hot hit your back.

You startled as you were uninterrupted again, hooking your arms under Hiccup’s as you fell forwards. 

You were fifty percent sure you’d heard a sizzle and a pat as whatever it was fell off, tumbling against the sea stack.

You made sure he fell down on the wide side of the stack, the two of you sliding back slightly on damp moss, all elbows and noses on sharp bones.

Hiccup grabbed at your elbows and you nearly slipped as you tried to sit up, turning and scooting around, pulling your knees up to your face as you reached a clumsy hand back to vaguely pat at where it had hit you.

It didn’t sting or burn or anything else so you hoped there wasn’t anything you needed to care for there.

It was glowy and orange and very, very tiny, uncurling itself and hopping around wherever it could find dry moss and grass, singing it underfoot.

This small glowy thing was recognizable to you like a sentence you read briefly once from a passage in a book, though you hadn’t known it -laid eyes on it, had time to become more familiar with it- for very long.

It was the tiny Fireworm from Fireworm island. The first one, as you’d remembered, who’d come to you to retrieve some sandwich. The one who reminded you of Hiccup. Sandwich was too good a boon not to run after, you supposed.

“Is that….?” You asked, anyway.

“What,” Hiccup started, before trailing off, having sat up behind you. You had glanced backwards at him as if to confirm, though there was no one else on the sea stack but you, so it was a kind of stupid thing for you to do.

In front of you, he -the Fireworm- was quivering and skittering and... Dancing? It was sort of like how he had done it before, many small arms waving in enthusiastic greeting, even as it’s eyes stayed wide and unmoving,

The little guy squirmed and danced around in front of you, waving many arms like a small bee trying to communicate hellos and celebrations. 

That could have been it. He was from a hive.

The little guy looked like he’d had a long journey, sort of patchy in his glowingess, and you wanted to pick him up but you knew he’d burn your hands.

You wondered if he’d really flown all the way across the ocean to you guys. It couldn’t have been too harrowing. Many of the other Fireworms made it over and back regularly.

Still, though. He looked like he needed a few sandwiches.

Hiccup shook off his coat besides yours, bringing the leathery inside down, scooping the Fireworm up, carefully wrapping it in his furs in a way that kept most of the dry, fluffiest parts away from its glowing.

“Is it going to burn?” You asked. It would be bad if his furs turned to kindling.

Hiccup looked over at you uneasily, “I hope not. I did try and fireproof it before, but… We’ll just have to see.”

You didn’t know he did that. You hadn’t been spending as much time around the forge- driven away by nerves and other shy things.

If you were standing, you would have scuffed your feet into the grass. You pulled your knees higher up under your chin instead, listening to the deep swoosh of air under leathery wings as Toothless gilded back behind you

You hadn’t been paying as much attention to the big dragon, probably off laughing on his own and staring off into the distance, admiring the world in ways animals sometimes did.

He leaned his large, scaly head over the both of you and sniffed at the little Fireworm.

Hiccup looked at you out of the corner of his eye, an expression that came off as sly even as Toothless threatened to droop over his head, trying to get a closer look at the worm.

Hiccup held the Fireworm out further, away from Toothless.

Your heart calmed and the adrenaline pounding in your ears faded, though you were still on high alert.

“What does he eat?” You asked anxiously, though Hiccup’s attention was still on Toothless and the Fireworm, he didn’t answer, so you said, slightly petty, “... I should probably ask someone, later.”

Things had nearly come to what felt like a nice emotional diminuendo.

Hiccup frowned slightly, resisting the urge to grumble pettily in the back of his throat as he handed the Fireworm in the coat over to you.

He wasn’t as great at categorizing and taking down notes on dragons. He knew a lot, but he was sure he wasn’t the one you meant to ask later. He was right there, after all.

He knew who you meant to ask.

Fishlegs.

He knew on some level that Fishlegs wasn’t into you, but he was always anticipating a change, or something from the large boy. It didn’t help that he had no idea how you felt about him at all.

“Fishlegs is really into Ruffnut,” You suggested.

You picked the Fireworm up carefully, with large eyes as it squirmed slightly in your hold.

Hiccupfelt pretty pleased with that answer, sitting a bit straighter.

“Really?”

“Yeah, he spends all his time thinking about her. When he’s not thinking about Dragons. His mother complains about it a lot.”

Like the end credit scene of a movie, you sat next to each other, looking out over the empty ocean side of the sea stack, the only thing in front of you being a short cropping or rocks sticking out from the ocean and a large-looking stone arch also dusted with moss and whatever plant could have somehow made it over here from Berk.

You held the little Fireworm in your hands in Hiccup’s vest jacket.

“I guess maybe he isn’t so bad after all.”

You hummed in agreement, though your voice was tinged with slight confusion.

It seemed you were still in denial about a few things, after all. 

Hiccup still really wanted to kiss you.

[charlescoded]

Omggg we need the 5th forced proximity prompt with Lestappen:

“What if y-” “if you seriously propose that I sit on your lap, I will kill you.”

Somehow I decided to write teen lestappen for this prompt, but I hope you enjoyed it <3

FORCED PROXIMITY PROMPTS ˗ˏˋ꒰ 🐚 ꒱ -- found here!

Charles glares.

Max stares back passively. He leans back in his chair and makes a show of stretching his legs out. It makes Charles bristle in return. There's already very little space and now he's trying to take up even more room.

He doesn't actually know how long they've been locked into this absolutely tiny storage space, but it's been long enough that Max's phone had died what felt like an hour ago--Charles' had died before he'd even gotten to the karting track, having forgotten to charge it.

The thought of spending even a minute more in this room with Max Verstappen of all people is enough to drive him insane, but now his feet are also starting to hurt.

Ugh, why couldn't it have been Pierre instead...

"How long are you going to use that chair?" He finally asks, sounding whiny even to his own ears.

Max's face scrunches up. "I'm fine, actually."

Charles grits his teeth. Same answer as before, then. "Well, I want a turn too." He says petulantly.

"What are you, five? Just sit down on the floor."

"Your stupid legs are in the way!" He snaps back, digging his nails into the palms of his hands. There's barely room for Max to sit while Charles is standing, there's no way he'll fit if he wants to sit down.

Max sighs. "What if y--,"

"If you seriously propose that I sit on your lap, I will kill you.” He interrupts, but his face heats up anyway.

He doesn't appreciate the half-laughing, half-snorting noise Max makes. "I was going to say you could kneel down between my legs."

Charles turns completely red, both mortified and confused all at once. "You can't just say stuff like that!" He protests. Max's eyes crease as he laughs, and Charles quickly looks away.

"Would you rather spend your time standing? You can, of course, if you want, but it could take hours before they find us."

That's a horrible thought, being stuck with Max for even longer, but begrudgingly, Max is also... right. Charles hates it, hates it when Max makes him agree, hates it when he's making sense. Ugh, he just hates Max, with his stupid eyes and his stupid hair, and most of all, his stupid mouth.

He jumps when he feels Max's hand on his wrist, and before he knows it, he's pitched forward, right against Max's chest and onto his lap. He lets out a surprised, embarrassed squeak as he twists his fingers into Max's shirt. His face feels like it's on fire.

"Just sit down, Charles." Max looks at him with those stupid half-moon eyes, and Charles can't find it in himself to protest. He shifts-- adjusts himself--,a bit too quickly for his own liking, but Max doesn't say anything as Charles settles down.

It's... it's not as bad as he thought it would be. Maybe it's even nice, but Charles doesn't let himself linger on that thought. Max is his enemy, his greatest rival, not some boy he can... fool around with, not that Charles would want to, of course, he doesn't like boys! Least of all Max Verstappen.

Charles bites his lip as he stares at the shelves behind Max's head, not knowing what to say, not wanting to think about Max any longer, and starts counting the cleaning supplies for what feels like the 100th time, like they're sheep.

He doesn't notice it when his eyes start to feel heavy, doesn't notice it when Max shifts around until Charles can drop his head against his shoulder, and doesn't notice it, when it's hours later, that he tries to cling to Max when they're found and his dad carries him to their car, still fast asleep.

[songclangen]

holly

The wind whistled over the dark green moorland. Greenleaf would be ending soon, but the air was still pleasantly mild and humid, and the grass wouldn’t grow taller than this before the frost came in a moon or two. Splinterstar had never really enjoyed this season. There was a sort of tension in the air; anticipation for the leafbare that was to come as the nights grew ever so slightly longer and cooler.

Still, she could still enjoy taking moments away from the bustling camp to wander the territory by herself now and then. She liked the quiet. It wasn’t just her age; she’d always been that way. She felt perfectly safe too. Not only did she have nine lives to spare yet, there was peace between the Clans. Border encounters could be tense with WarbleClan lately, yes. The newly appointed Stagstar was… intense. It was surprising their warriors even had time to hunt, considering how often they patrolled the border— 

Splinterstar’s thoughts were suddenly interrupted. Something pale flickered in her field of view, far away. She was near the border to the sheep-place, with the twoleg stone dens beyond. In the tall grass, in the distance, there was a creature. Judging by its size and movements, it was a cat. It paced back and forth hurriedly, looking lost.

The leader rose to her paws and stretched her legs and back, then made for the border.

Once she had gotten closer, the stranger noticed her. She startled and stared at her, arching her back. But there was only fear in her eyes, no aggression. Clearly, this was a lost or abandoned kittypet. Just the wind in the grass seemed to spook her.

”Hello,” Splinterstar meowed evenly and sat down. ”Who are you?”

The she-cat eyed her up and down. She had a strange coloring, with pale fur on her body, but a dark gray face, tail and paws, and icy blue eyes.

”Holly,” she mewed at last. Her voice was little more than a peep, and Splinterstar noticed how young she looked.

”Are you lost, Holly?” Splinterstar continued. Holly nodded. ”You seem to have wandered into my territory.” 

Holly’s eyes widened, full of worry. ”I’m really sorry, I didn’t know.”

”Now you do,” Splinterstar said. ”Why are you out here on your own? You can relax, by the way. I won’t hurt you unless you give me a reason to.”

Holly looked a bit taken aback, but eventually sat down. ”I, um… I ran away, sort of.” Splinterstar tilted her head. ”I live with my housefolk in a house, over there. But…it’s so crowded, we’re eleven cats living in a very small space. I just can’t stand it sometimes. When I saw that the window was slightly cracked open, I squeezed through, just to get some air. But then there was a loud noise out on the road, and I got scared so I started running and got lost, and now…I don’t know how I’m supposed to find my way back.” Holly looked apologetic, like she was embarrassed to admit that. ”Sorry, I didn’t mean to ramble on.”

”Do you really want to go back?” Splinterstar asked genuinely. ”Do you like living there, with your housefolk?”

”No!” Holly burst out. ”It’s so cramped, cats are constantly arguing and fighting, and the housefolk just ignore us most of the time…I hate it there! But—” she broke off. ”I have to go back, and soon.”

”Why?” Splinterstar asked. She could understand loyalty to a Clan that cared about you, but these kittypets didn’t sound like they even liked each other.

”I— Oh, it’s horrible. I can’t believe that I left! It was so stupid and irresponsible…” Holly closed her eyes, then looked away. ”I have three kittens back there. They’re just a few days old.”

Splinterstar felt a pang of sympathy for the young queen. ”Really? But you can’t be much older than an apprentice…”

”A what?” Holly asked, confusion mixing with the anxiety in her gaze. ”I know I’m young, but…it wasn’t exactly my choice. Or… I don’t know. I don’t even like their father very much, he’s as stupid as the rest of them.”

Splinterstar sighed, beginning to feel the stranger’s worry rub off on her. She shifted her paws thoughtfully. She didn’t mind meeting cats from outside the Clan and talking to them, as long as they weren’t a threat. But this she-cat had really gotten herself in a heap of trouble.

”How could you leave your own kits like that?” she had to ask. Splinterstar had never had kits of her own, but she had seen the sacrifices a mother would do for them.

Holly’s face screwed up. ”I don’t know! I just— I had to get out of there for a moment, I never meant to run away!”

”Alright, calm down,” Splinterstar sighed. ”You’ll never find the way back if you can’t think straight. I’ll follow you back to the edge of the twoleg place, and maybe you can pick up your scent-trail there?”

”You would do that?” Holly’s eyes lit up. Splinterstar nodded.

She had no responsibility to help the stranger, but she felt for her. She was just a young, confused, somewhat impulsive kittypet. And really, it was the kits she was most worried about. As they began walking back, she asked;

”Do you really want your kits growing up in that place?”

Holly shook her head sadly. ”It’s my worst nightmare. If they even…” her voice broke off. ”I’m scared my housefolk will get rid of them if they find out about them. I’ve hidden them in the basement for now. But they’ll be big enough to start roaming soon, and who knows what will happen then? I wouldn’t put it above some of the others to try and hurt them either…”

”You can’t let that happen!” Splinterstar argued, leaping ahead of the she-cat and stopping her in her tracks.

Holly looked shocked and scared. ”No…I know. But where could I go? We can’t live on the streets, I don’t know how to survive without someone leaving food for me. It could be ages before some other housefolk take us in.”

”We’ll take you in,” Splinterstar said quickly. Maybe it was impulsive, but saving kits from harm was her duty, and they needed their mother too. 

”We?” Holly looked confused. ”Are there more of you?”

Splinterstar quickly briefed through what SongClan was and how in a Clan, everyone took care of each other. ”You would be taken care of until your kits are big enough to fend for themselves.”

Holly didn’t really seem like warrior material, if Splinterstar was being honest. But she was young still, and hadn’t gotten a chance to prove herself in the world. Maybe with time, and some training, they could recruit her to the Clan as a real warrior. Three new, young cats didn’t sound so bad either.

”I don’t know…” Holly mumbled. ”Is it really safe out here? Isn’t it cold and scary?”

Splinterstar sighed. ”Clan life can be tough, yes. But warriors help each other, no one is left behind. I promise you’ll be safer than you, or your kits, could ever be in a twoleg den.” A particularly nasty one at that, it sounded like.

”But…how would I get my kittens out of there? They can barely see yet, much less walk out here,” Holly thought out loud. ”Would you help me come get them?”

”I don’t think that would be wise,” Splinterstar murmured. ”How about you try to keep them hidden for one more moon, until they can at least follow you here? Then bring them to this spot and I’ll meet you.”

Holly thought it over, her eyes glistening with wonder and fear. After a few heartbeats, she nodded curtly. ”Okay. That might work.” She nodded to herself a few more times, like she was trying to convince herself. ”I’ll come here with them in one…what did you call it?”

”A moon. When the moon is the same shape as it is today, we’ll meet here,” Splinterstar explained patiently.

Holly looked a bit confused. ”One moon. Okay. I’ll check what it looks like tonight from the window and try to remember…”

Splinterstar twitched her whiskers. As inexperienced as the young kittypet was, she was sort of charming. ”Just count 28 days from now.”

Holly lit up. ”Oh, okay! That sounds easier.”

They had reached the border to the twoleg place, with the sheep in the sheep-place grazing peacefully in the far end of their pasture. Splinterstar didn’t like this place much. The twolegs weren’t a big problem, neither were the sheep. But the twolegs had dogs that often just roamed free in the area. Holly sniffed around the trampled grass a bit, then flashed a happy look to Splinterstar.

”I can smell my own paws here!” she exclaimed, scraping the ground a little.

”Just follow that trail back, and try not to panic. I’ll see you in one moon. Okay, Holly?” Splinterstar nodded, starting to turn back.

”Yes, okay! Thank you…uh, I didn’t get your name?”

”It’s Splinterstar.”

”Thank you, Splin…Splinterstar!” Holly clearly tried not to sound put off by the leader’s name, but Splinterstar overheard her as she ran off into the twoleg dens; ”Weird name…but okay.”

Splinterstar took a deep breath. She wouldn’t be too surprised if Holly ended up not following through on their deal, and worried something might happen to her before then. But she’d tried to help her at least, and if she could get her kits here in a moon, then maybe she was clan-cat material after all. The pale she-cat finished her walk deep in thought before returning to SongClan’s camp. For now, she said nothing of her encounter with the kittypet Holly.

[theboywithburninghands]

Morning guys, or afternoon/evening depending on where you are. So, I know I said the @rottentricks story was only gonna be three chapters, but chapter two has gotten so big I wouldn’t feel right slapping a giant wall of text onto your timeline. So, it’s being split into two parts. Here you are, hope you like it!

T/W: Blood, discussions of suicide/murder, fantasy racism

Animals Ch. 2: Sheep, Part 1

What do you get for pretending the danger’s not real?

—

Pomni fell out of bed with a jolt at the sound of her telephone ringing. She hurriedly detangled her quilt from around her foot as the phone rang again, followed by the caller ID loudly and robotically blurting out:

“CALL FROM- PRIVATE CALLER.”

“Gee, thanks…” Pomni mumbled. She had no idea why her parents got her a phone with caller ID. It almost never worked unless the person had a private cell, and the only people she knew who could afford one of those were her parents… Hm, she might have just answered her own question.

She grabbed the phone off the charging dock and hit talk before it could ring again.

“Hello…?” she said sleepily.

“Hey Pomni, it’s Ragatha! Did I wake you up?”

Pomni cleared her throat. She checked her watch. 12:47 PM… sweet Jesus. How embarrassing.

“Uh- n-no, you didn’t… what’s up? You okay?”

“Oh yeah, I’m fine, hun, but have you seen what’s going on downtown?” Ragatha asked, her tone hushed. A faint susurrus could be heard in the background of the phone call.

“Uh… no. I’ve been at my apartment since I got steak from Kingston’s Charcuterie yesterday morning… Working on stuff for school, you know? What’s happening?”

“You were at Kingston’s yesterday…? You know Jax then?” Ragatha’s tone turned much more serious.

“Uh, yeah..?”

“Honey, he was arrested.”

Pomni covered up the mouthpiece of the phone and loudly swore. She uncovered it and kept talking.

“Are you serious..? Why?” she asked. Her concern was quite genuine, but her surprise was not. She knew why.

“They’re saying that it looks like someone killed Kaufmo with a knife and hung him up a tree to make it look like a suicide… oh god, it’s horrible. But they found a knife from Jax’s store in the woods nearby, and they said that was good enough evidence to arrest him. They took him in last night around 6 PM…”

Pomni sighed. She knew it would happen… Those stupid cops already had him pegged for the murderer. There was some evidence sure, but-

Well… maybe she was wrong. Maybe they did find some evidence incriminating him that came up, fingerprints (like she demanded they look for), a piece of purple fur or something… Maybe she really was just letting her biases get in the way.

“…all over Main Street. …Pomni, baby, you there?”

Pomni blinked back into her apartment, and realized that Ragatha had been talking the entire time she’d been arguing with herself.

“Uh- s-sorry you broke up for a minute, what did you say?”

“I said that someone must have said something, because there’s a huge protest going on outside the station, saying it was an unfair arrest! There’s out-of-towners, some locals, they’re all over Main Street! I think I see a news van out there..! You can probably hear ‘em right now!”

“Oh god, is that what that background noise is? Holy shit. Are… you okay, Ragatha?” Pomni asked.

“Me? I’m a little shaken up. Jax has been providing supplies for the café for years! He gives us our steak, our burgers, our bacon, our sausages… and he’s my friend. He can be a bit rude and he’s scary looking, but… I don’t think he’s capable of…killing people.” Ragatha whispered the last two words.

“I don’t think he is either,” Pomni said. “And-And I only met him for a few minutes yesterday. Sure, it’s suspicious about the knife, but he sells knives! Someone could have used one they already bought or stole one. And-And I was there when those cops showed up, and I saw how they acted! They looked ready to shoot him and one of them said something really nasty…”

Ragatha sighed. “You wanna know the sad part, honey? That doesn’t surprise me even a little. Autumnvale is a nice place, but some people around here like things in their place, and if you fall outta that place… It can be hard for you. But I hope you don’t think our whole town is like that.”

“Oh- No- No, not at all! I love the friends I’ve made here. You’ve been amazing…” Pomni said. She meant it. Ragatha had basically taken on the role of her big sister here.

“Aww… That’s so sweet of you, Pomni. You’ve got enough to eat, right? I’m sorry I closed the café yesterday…”

“No, Ragatha, don’t worry. I was fine, and you needed the day off. But I can come see you now if you want? I haven’t had breakfast yet and I ate my whole steak yesterday…”

She could practically feel Ragatha’s luminous smile through the phone. “Well sure, hun, come and visit! I’ll make you something special. Just be careful, okay? These protesters are making me nervous…”

“I will. See you in a bit, okay?” Pomni said with a smile.

“Bye.~” Ragatha said, and there was a click at the other end.

Pomni hopped off her bed and got herself dressed. Fresh underwear, then shirt, then pants, then fleece, then puffer, then purse. She looked out her window, saw it was snowing, and added a pair of black gloves and a white scarf, topped with her gray university beanie. It didn’t match her outfit, but maybe with this on, the protestors wouldn’t yell at her. She was on their side, after all, she thought something was fishy about the whole thing too…

She stepped outside, looking around at the falling snow. Big, fat flakes that looked like wisps of cotton. She held out a black-gloved hand and caught one. The flake remained on her palm for a moment before the heat from her hand caused the fluff to recede into water on her glove. She smiled.

She put her glove back on the strap of her purse, then turned to look at the stairs. They were dusted with snow, and no doubt slippery.

She huffed and gripped the railing tight. One step at a time, never let go. Repeat for all thirteen steps.

An excruciating minute later and she was at the bottom, panting and sending up plumes of steam. She appreciated being on the second floor to avoid the rats and bugs, but having to climb up and especially down these icy stairs was brutal… One of these days she was going to slip and fall and it was gonna suck.

“You okay, Miss?”

Pomni looked up at the unfamiliar voice. An abstract person sat atop a horse. They had a triangular head, bright pink, with no visible mouth and a shiny metal hook for a left hand. They wore a heavy poncho, colored dark green with yellow diamonds, and a brown cowboy hat. They sat atop a horse with an unusual coat, a nearly perfect split between black and white stripes and plain white fur.

“Um… hi. Yeah, I’m fine, just… uh… stairs.” Pomni pointed to the offending structure, still out of breath.

“Mmm. You headed into town?” the person on the horse asked.

“Yeah. You heading there too? Have you heard about the protests..?” Pomni asked.

“Yeah. I’m close friends with the guy that got arrested. I’m gonna see if I can post his bail.” they said.

Pomni perked up a bit. “Oh, great! Uh, I’m a friend of his as well! I saw the way the cops treated him…”

“Really? Tell me about it, I’ll give you a lift into town.”

The person on the horse turned their mount around the opposite direction, offering their non-hook hand. Pomni took it, carefully sliding her feet into the stirrups and climbing up onto the horse, sitting herself a bit clumsily behind the rider. The horse shook their head and snorted in annoyance.

“I’m Zooble. This is ZigZag.”

Zooble patted the side of their horse, gently tugging on their reins so they turned back towards town, then flicked the reins with a soft “giddyup.” ZigZag chuffed and trotted forward, leaving horseshoe prints in the new fallen snow.

“Hi, I’m Pomni. I’m here on an art scholarship.”

“Oh yeah, I forgot Mayor Mason started doing that. You’re here a full year, then?” Zooble asked without turning around.

“Yeah. Until I get my Master’s in May… I really love it here though… Well I love most of here. Winter has been pretty rough.” Pomni admitted.

Zooble chuckled. “Yeah, we have harsh winters. Our nights are especially bad. You’ve been staying inside after dark, right?”

“Mhm, always. If I die, my parents will have wasted money. Worse still, the college will have to liquidate my loans.” Pomni replied, putting her gloves to her cheeks in mock horror.

Zooble chuckled once again. “I’m not surprised you fit in here, you came pre-fit with small-town snark.”

“Thanks. Oh, so, yeah, I saw Jax yesterday. The cops were already gung-ho about arresting him… You’re his friend, right? You don't think he would do something like that, right…?”

Zooble was silent for a moment. “To someone like Kaufmo? No.”

“Wait- what do you mean?” Pomni asked, leaning a ways off of ZigZag to get a better look at the rider’s face.

“What I mean is that… He would never hurt anyone that didn’t really have it coming. I don’t know if you know, but the other kids made his life hell growing up. They called him a freak and said his parents abandoned him ‘cause he was so ugly and a half-breed. But… he fought back one day. It was bad. And ever since then, he hasn’t taken shit from anybody. I bet the only reason he even went with the cops is because if he put out one of their eyes or snapped one of their arms, he’d get his brains blown out or thrown away to rot. He’s got a temper, and he’s capable of a lot when you push the right buttons… but no. He wouldn’t hurt Kaufmo. Or me, or Gangle, or Rags.”

“…Or me?” Pomni asked.

“…I dunno. Are you a good person?” Zooble retorted.

“I’d like to think so…” Pomni replied meekly. “He seems to like me okay. He let me have a steak yesterday.”

“Really? He almost never gives anyone free food. He mumbles and grumbles about just giving me enough beef chuck to make stew.”

“Is that right..?” Pomni felt her face warm up again.

As they approached the town, they faintly heard the chanting of a good-sized crowd.

“AUTUMNVALE ISN’T FAIR! RACIST PEOPLE EVERYWHERE! AUTUMNVALE ISN’T FAIR! RACIST PEOPLE EVERYWHERE!”

Zooble tugged gently on ZigZag’s reins, slowing her to a stop. ZigZag nickered uneasily at the commotion up ahead, Zooble putting a hand out to pet her neck.

“Yeah, I know it’s loud, princess. Don’t worry, we’ll tie you off right here, okay?” they soothed.

Zooble then hopped down off the horse, landing firmly on both feet. They looked up at Pomni.

“Need help, city girl?”

Pomni bristled a tiny bit at that comment. Sure, it wasn’t a lie or anything, but it always made her feel… inexperienced. Sheltered.

“I got it,” Pomni replied. She looked down at the snowy ground. It was a drop for sure, especially for someone her size. Well, what did she have to lose other than the use of her ankles?

She slid off the horse, hitting the snow with both feet a bit too hard and fast, buckling and being forced to catch herself with her hands. She stood up immediately and dusted the snow off her gloves.

“You go on ahead. I gotta tie her off and put on her blanket.” Zooble said.

“Okay, thanks for the ride… Do you really think you can cover Jax’s bail?” Pomni asked, looking down at the snow.

Zooble sighed. Their breath steamed.

“Hope so. I’m just one person, and the bail for suspicion of murder is gonna be a small fortune. But I got a lot in savings. You didn’t hear it from me though.”

“I… don’t have much money, but I can try and help.” Pomni said. She desperately needed that money for groceries and art supplies, truth be told… She wasn’t sure why she even offered.

“Nah. Thanks, but nah.” Zooble said, tying ZigZag’s halter to a wooden perimeter fence nearby. “Do have a quick question, though.”

“Yeah?”

Zooble opened one of the saddle bags and looked at Pomni. Even though they had no visible mouth, looking at their eyes made it clear that they were smiling.

“You said you only met Jax yesterday, and you’re dead-set on helping him out. Why’s that?” Zooble asked, removing a green and yellow horse blanket.

“Because…” Pomni swallowed and felt her already rosy cheeks darken. “Because it’s the right thing to do.”

“Yup, that is true…” Zooble replied expectantly, shaking out the blanket.

“Y-Yeah. I’m… I’ll see you up ahead. Thanks again.”

“Be seeing you.” Zooble said, a laugh on the edge of their voice.

Pomni put her hands in her jacket pockets and crunched her way towards town. The roar of emotions in her belly distracted her long enough for her to reach the hubbub on Main Street.

A crowd of around four dozen people had gathered outside the Autumnvale police station, some familiar faces from around town, some people Pomni didn’t recognize that must have come from neighboring towns, maybe even her city. A few people held signs written on bright yellow or green poster paper, a few having opted for foam boards instead. They read things such as:

“DIFFERENT MAKES NO DIFFERENCE”

“YOU HAVE THE RIGHT TO REMAIN BLACK AND BLUE”

“AUTUMN-FAIL”

“WHERE’S THE EVIDENCE?”

“JUSTICE FOR JAX!”

An older chickadee birdman in an orangish-brown leather jacket and black toque stood at the head of the crowd. Pomni recognized him as the town doctor. She’d seen him a few times. He seemed to be the leader of the group, but that could be because he was the only one that had a bullhorn. He turned it on and spoke into it.

“We aren’t going to lay down and let the police continue to treat crossbreeds like second-class citizens! Not here, not in any other city!”

He then led the crowd in another chant of “AUTUMNVALE ISN’T FAIR, RACIST PEOPLE EVERYWHERE!”

Nearby, a news anchor and her cameraman interviewed a chess piece shaped fellow in a red flannel jacket and a fishing hat, who wrung his hands nervously.

“And you raised him, Mr. Kingston?” the anchor asked into her mic before offering it to the man.

“Y-Yes my wife and I raised Jax, the mayor found him abandoned in a cabin in the woods and brought him to us when he was just bite-sized.”

Pomni tried to walk a little closer inconspicuously.

“And you believe he’s innocent?” The anchor asked.

“Of course. Jax is a good boy. People around town have treated him so rotten.” Mr. Kingston said adamantly.

“You think that there’s bias in the arrest?” The reporter asked.

“Definitely, definitely. Some people around here still call him a cannibal, can you believe that? Just because he’s part wolf and needs meat in his diet, they call him a cannibal.” Mr. Kingston said, wounded.

“And what do you have to say about the knife that was found near the crime scene, Mr. Kingston?” The anchor asked.

“I say ‘malarkey.’ Jax sells those knives in his shop, anyone could have taken one and put it there. They probably picked him on purpose!”

Pomni listened a while longer before looking out amongst the crowd again. A few of the same cops from the crime scene the previous day stood in front of the station behind sawhorses, along with some new ones. Autumnvale must have brought in other precincts to keep the situation under control. One particular officer, a human with a gold badge and in a wide brimmed white cowboy hat and aviator shades, stood along with them, hands on his hips. Probably the sheriff.

The protest leader spoke into his bullhorn again.

“The detectives who made the arrest are nowhere to be seen! Isn’t that intriguing, everyone?”

The crowd booed.

“It seems that they feel perfectly comfortable bullying a man when they outnumber him, but once we show up, they go missing! Isn’t that intriguing?!”

Another round of booing and hissing from the crowd, one person shouting “Fuckin’ cowards!”

“Yes, these enforcers of justice seem to only bother enforcing said justice if it’s against people they don’t like!”

He continued on as Pomni slipped behind the crowd. The café was located just beyond the protest. No doubt, they were all going to head there after the demonstrations finished. Although from the amount of fervor in the crowd, it didn’t seem to be losing momentum anytime soon.

As she crossed to the other side of the road to the café, she spotted Trevor leaning against the post office next door. He locked eyes with her, a cigarette smoldering in his teeth, and grinned spitefully. Pomni hurried into the café.

“Hey! Good afternoon hun!” Ragatha waved. Pomni couldn’t help but smile and wave back. That sunny smile could cure sickness if someone could figure out how to bottle it.

“Good afternoon to you, miss.” another voice chimed in. A woman composed of a white mask and red ribbons sat at the counter, a black beret on her head and a cup of coffee in her hands. Er… ribbons.

“Come and sit, Pomni! You’ve met Gangle, right?” Ragatha poured another cup of coffee for the art student.

She stomped the snow off of her boots before going to sit at the counter, taking off her puffer jacket and hanging it over the back of her usual chair before climbing up into it.

“Um, I don’t think in person, but I saw your production of A Streetcar Named Desire. You were an amazing Stella!” Pomni said.

Gangle gave a worried smile. “Oh no, you weren’t there the night I forgot my lines, were you?”

“I don’t think so, I don’t remember any mistakes. Um, the guy who played Stanley was amazing too, so intense… Thank you.” Pomni accepted her mug from Ragatha.

“Ahh, yeah, Gummigoo. You know he’s actually a complete sweetheart in real life? We had to practice the scene where his character hits mine over and over with the stunt coordinator since he didn’t even want to pretend to hit me.”

Pomni added sugar and cream to her coffee, two blue packets and one little plastic cup, and stirred it.

“So how are you holding up this morning, baby? You said you saw those detectives get onto Jax, right?” Ragatha asked, leaning both her hands on the counter.

“Oh. Yeah, I did. I hid for a bit because I didn’t want to get in trouble just for being there… but then one of them said something really horrible and I yelled at them.” Pomni sipped her coffee. Bitter stuff, but it had a pleasant chocolatey taste on the edge of the flavor.

“What did they say? They didn’t call him a… you know…” Gangle whispered.

“No. They weren’t that blatant, but one guy, I think his name was Wexley, basically said Jax lived by himself ‘cause he’s a crossbreed. Said it was ‘understandable.’”

Ragatha made a disgusted noise as she went over to the griddle, pouring batter onto it. “I don’t understand how people that pea-brained are allowed to carry badges. Well it’s no wonder they’re not showing their faces right now. Probably got sent back to the big city with their tails between their legs. Buncha bullies…”

“Yeah… I’ve been meaning to ask, how did they find out so quickly..? The-The demonstrators, I mean. I thought Jax only got arrested last night…” Pomni inquired.

“It was probably Dr. Wren that found out,” Gangle replied, pointing out the window. Her ribbon pointed towards the older bird fellow with the megaphone. “Our town doctor. He’s always been about issues like this. You know, institutional racism and stuff? My guess is he jumped at the chance to get a crowd together. And look at the turnout!”

Pomni hummed. “Well, I’m glad he did.”

“Hm, I dunno,” Ragatha replied from over at the griddle. “Personally, I wish he’d have just waited a day or two so we could at least lay Kaufmo to rest. So many people here in town are still processing the fact that he might have been murdered, and he’s out there hollering his lungs out, disturbing everyone’s grieving.”

“B-But what about Jax? Doesn’t he deserve justice?” Pomni replied.

“Well of course he does, baby, but if he’s really done nothing wrong, he’ll be out of the jailhouse in 72 hours..” Ragatha flipped a pancake.

“He’ll- huh?” Pomni tilted her head.

“She’s right, I almost forgot…” Gangle chimed in. “This town has a Speedy Trial law. Since we’re such a small community, there’s not many trials. So there’s a 72-hour limit in place for someone being held in custody without substantial evidence… If Jax really didn’t do anything, and I don’t think he did, they’ll have to let him go in a couple days.

“And I’ll betcha the only people that are itching to find evidence on him are those detectives, and who knows where they went? With that protest out there, all our cops are busy keeping that under control. No time to be sniffing around for clues.” Ragatha added, testing the firmness of her pancakes with her spatula.

Pomni felt herself relax. That was… good news.. There was a pretty decent chance that they’d let Jax go tonight. Maybe she’d wait for him if the crowd had died down by then…

“W-Wait, so that means that the knife..?”

“Unless it had his DNA or prints on it, it’s not good enough. It’s like people have been saying, anyone could have bought it and hid it out there.” Gangle explained.

Ragatha gave a surprised smile over her shoulder at Gangle as she stacked the pancakes on a plate. “Well, look at you, Nancy Drew! Who taught you all this detective stuff?”

Gangle gained red blush marks under her eyes and looked down at the counter. “Oh, you know… I do a lot of research for my roles. We did an Agatha Christie play once…”

Ragatha brought over a short stack of pancakes, dusted with powdered sugar and topped with whipped cream and some fresh strawberry slices. She set the plate down in front of Pomni, along with a boat of maple syrup.

“Eat it while it’s warm, honey.” Ragatha cooed, pecking the art student on the cheek.

“Thank you Ragatha…” Pomni sighed. How this absolute peach of a woman remained single was a mystery to her. Wasn’t any of her business, anyway. She dug into the food. It was delicious, fluffy and moist cake mixed in with rich, hand churned cream and the bright flavor of strawberry. She could eat this every day for the rest of her life and never get tired of it.

The door to the café swung open, and a person in a yellow and green poncho stepped inside, stomping off their boots chasing snowflakes from their hat.

“Zooble! I was wondering when you’d show up! You want the regular… Zooble?”

Ragatha’s sunny voice darkened with worry as she saw a stain of red on their hand, which they were currently wiping off on their poncho.

“Zooble, are you bleeding?!” Pomni cried out.

“No, it’s not my blood. I punched Trevor in the nose. Might’ve busted it.” Zooble’s voice sounded hollow and distant. Their hand reasonably clean, they sank down into a chair by the window, resting their arms on top of the table.

“Trevor? The wolf?” Pomni asked. No, Trevor the marmoset, stupid.

“Yeah. He laughed at me when the sheriff turned me away. ‘Tough luck, pizza-head.’ I heard a crunch.” Zooble looked at their hand and clenched it a few times. “Anyway. Couldn’t post his bail. The Sheriff told me it was 500 thousand. ‘Possible homicide.’ I don’t even have half of that.”

“Oh, Zooble…” Ragatha opened the counter hatch and went around to see them. “Honey, I’m so sorry… But, we were just talking about the speedy trial law. If all they have is a knife that came from his store-”

“Horseshit…” Zooble mumbled.

“If there’s no DNA on the knife, then-”

“HORSESHIT!” Zooble bellowed, banging on the table with their fist. The sound rattled the glass salt and pepper shakers. Everyone jumped.

“Zooble, I’m sorry-” Ragatha began, but Zooble cut her off.

“You know how the system is! It doesn’t matter how many angry people wave signs around out there, or if the doctor gives some nice speeches on a megaphone! Jax is a crossbreed, and they’re gonna find some ‘new evidence’ or dig up some old law that makes it so he gets put away for good! Don’t you get it?! Those sheep big city detectives they hired took one look at Jax and saw he was a freak, so he must’ve done it! And our redneck-ass, no-brain FUCK of a sheriff agrees with them! They’ve been waiting to do this- they…”

Tears beaded in Zooble’s eyes, and they collapsed into their chair, shoulders shaking.

“They’ve been waiting…” they moaned.

For a while, there were no sounds other than the faint din outside and Zooble’s soft sobbing. Pomni couldn’t blame them… if her best friend was being put away on flimsy evidence based on prejudice alone, she’d have cried like a baby. Hell, she felt a little bit like crying now…

She pushed her half-eaten plate of food away and shyly walked over to Zooble. The cowboy looked at her through red, puffy eyes.

“What?” they spat.

“…I… I want to help.” Pomni said.

“I just told you there’s nothing we can do, kid… unless your mommy and daddy have $500,000 sitting around the house, this is the end of the line…” Zooble wiped their eyes on the non-bloodied parts of their poncho.

“Don’t say that. We can look for more evidence.”

“How? They’ve got the crime scene cordoned off… we’ll get in huge trouble if we go there…” Gangle said.

“What about Jax’s sales log? That’s like a list of suspects!” Pomni proposed.

“Cops already took it. I saw ‘em carrying it out of the shop when they hauled him away in cuffs…”

“Dammit…” Pomni chewed on her thumbnail. “Okay. Okay, what about this? Does anyone know where Kaufmo lived?”

“He lived not far from here,” Ragatha said. “His house was over near Gangle’s theater.”

“Do you think we could get a look inside it?”

“What? Pomni, what for?” Gangle asked.

“I dunno… anything! Clues about who might have it out for him!”

“Look, city girl. I appreciate your enthusiasm… I do. But the cops-” Zooble began.

“Are all busy, dealing with that.” Pomni pointed out the window at the crowd. “All we have to do is see if those three asshole detectives aren’t sniffing around the place, and we can look inside, right?”

“Pomni…”

“Look, Zooble’s right. Unless a miracle happens, the system is gonna do what it can to get Jax put behind bars for good. We need to at least try. Right?”

“I… But… Pomni, what about you? Aren’t you worried about losing your scholarship?” Gangle asked.

“Yeah. But… I think I… I want to make a difference in this town more than I want to just use it to further myself. You guys… this place has done so much for me, and I… I want to give something back.”

Zooble used a napkin to wipe their eyes. “It helps she also has a crush on Jax.”

Pomni turned bright red. “Hey! That’s not-”

“Aw, Pomni… that’s so romantic. A lover, wrongly imprisoned... It’s like a Carolinian play!” Gangle said, looping her ribbons together as though she was clasping her hands.

“Wh- He’s not my lover! We only met for like five minutes!” Pomni grabbed her beanie and tugged it down over her face.

“And yet you’re willing to risk your higher education to save him. Yup, you’ve totally got it bad, honey.” Ragatha added, crossing her arms and smiling.

“Sh-Shut uuuuuuuup!” Pomni whined.

“Well… I wouldn’t be much of a best friend if I didn’t do something incredibly stupid for him. Alright, let’s go, kid.” Zooble got to their feet, drying their eyes one more time.

“I’m twenty-fiiiiiiive!”

“You’re twenty-five? Jeez, you coulda fooled me. What are you, four foot two?”

“Four foot NINE!” Pomni snapped, shuffling out the door as Zooble held it open for her. Zooble said their goodbyes to Ragatha and Gangle before following after Pomni.

“Do you think they’ll find anything?” Gangle asked.

“Honey, I hope so. I… doubt it. But I hope so.” Ragatha replied.

[whorinsmokenshield]

Malalkhrukûn (January)

Summary: Bilbo Baggins is a hobbit. Just as grass is green, the sky is blue, and the Lonely Mountain is tall, Bilbo Baggins is a hobbit through and through, and no one would know this better than himself. Yet strangely, while underneath the dwarf whom he calls king, he’s never been more acutely aware of just how much of a hobbit he is.

Rating: Explicit

(Hi I wrote this for the Year of Bagginshield prompt 'Body Worship' for January. Prompt list by @acorns-and-oakleaves. Ao3 upload here)

~~~~~~~~~~

If Bilbo Baggins were ever able to meet the Valar of his choice, he would choose Aulë, for he would like to shake his hand and thank him in-person for the creation of the dwarves.

There was not a race in Middle Earth, not even the elves, that was able to match up to the raw strength, presence and stature that the average dwarf possessed (at least, in Bilbo’s opinion). They came in a variety, but most shared the same notable characteristics: arms like stone columns, chests like barrels, stout height, thick fingers, and cords of granite-dense muscles strapping every inch of their bodies. Bilbo has long thanked Yavanna that no one in the Shire had ever caught his eye, for had he been married when he laid eyes on his first dwarf there’s no telling what he would have done. Bilbo has similarly thanked Aulë every day that he was blessed enough to even be able to lay eyes on one in his life. Not to mention laying eyes on a particular dwarf; a mighty specimen of a king who might have been carved out of marble, with oiled raven-black locks and piercing sapphire-blue eyes. That Bilbo existed on the same plane as Thorin Oakenshield was an uncountable blessing in itself.

That Bilbo was currently situated underneath Thorin Oakenshield was a turn of events he would not have arranged in even his most fantastic dreams.

The steps that came before being pushed into the king's bedchambers were a blur of hot touches and gravelly whispers that skittered down Bilbo's spine like chills. Bilbo did not know what he had done to catch Thorin's eye that day, but he had half a mind to ask him so that he might do it every day. The scorching wall of Thorin's body had crowded him through the parlor of the royal apartments to the king's bedchambers, moving like a juggernaut until Thorin could kick the door closed behind them and turn the golden lock. At once Bilbo was grabbed by his shoulders, spun around, and kissed within an inch of his life.

Thorin leaned over him and ravished his mouth, beard scratching the skin of his chin and cheeks in the best possible way, then Thorin bit Bilbo’s bottom lip to trick him into opening his mouth.

Bilbo was making cut off moans and noises that were frankly embarrassing, worse still as he let the king dip his tongue into Bilbo’s mouth and take him for a dance, but Thorin was no better. Thorin was groaning from deep in his belly and grasping Bilbo’s arms like he thought Bilbo would sink into the floor. (Which, if Thorin were to keep kissing him like this, Bilbo just might). When the king retreated to gasp for air he would drone little words under his breath that made Bilbo’s body vibrate. There were ones that Bilbo knew: bunmel, the beauty of all beauties; ghivashel, the treasure of all treasures; kurdel, his heart of all hearts. Then there were ones that Bilbo didn’t know, ones that he’s thought before that Thorin was keeping a secret on purpose; galthûn, àrsûn, úkrad, and others. Each one being whispered into his lips made Bilbo feel like flint being struck against steel.

Bilbo was urged backwards, for he was just a sheep against a shepherd’s rod, until the backs of his knees hit the bed and buckled so that he hit the mattress on his back. Thorin climbed over him, hot breath heaving, hands on either side of Bilbo’s head to prop himself up. Bilbo had his own hands up and around Thorin’s neck, cupping it like something precious then thrown around his shoulders as if afraid to fall. 

He kissed Bilbo again, again, long and heavy and blindingly hot. Thorin’s hair fell around him in a black curtain and created a pocket of just the two of them, panting and staring up and down into the other’s eyes and at the other’s lips until they inevitably reconnected with twin moans of pleasure.

Thorin hoisted himself further up onto the bed on his hands and knees, trapping Bilbo’s body with his own, and Bilbo thought he could die like that. Under Thorin Oakenshield, on top of royal down sheets, there was little that could compare. Bilbo was the most blessed creature in Middle-Earth.

Then Thorin shifted his weight and dragged his knee up so that it split the space of Bilbo’s thighs, and if he thought his noises were embarrassing before, it was certainly nothing against the whimper of anticipation he let out when Thorin pressed against him.

“M-Mercy…” Bilbo stammered, bringing his hands down to grip Thorin’s tunic. He’d worn it at the guildmaster’s meeting that morning, and all Bilbo could think about was what lay underneath. It was beautiful Durin blue, but couldn’t hold as much as a candle to the carved majesty that it covered.

“Do not speak to me of mercy,” Thorin replied with a teasing, throaty tone that set Bilbo on fire. He dotted every other word thereafter with a trailing kiss from his lips down the column of his neck, and a grind against his hip. “Wearing the crown, made by my own hands, in this fitted robe. The way you spoke to the master of textiles, I should have taken you over that table.”

“Oh, Thorin- Thorin!” Bilbo squeaked as Thorin nipped at the skin in the hollow of his throat and made him squirm. “Y-you said it was a circlet, n-not a c-crown- oh. A-And I don’t even remember what I said to the master- oh, please Thorin!”

Thorin’s hand had decided on its own to wander, and while Thorin ravished every inch of exposed skin above Bilbo’s collar his fingers had begun to play at the hem of his trousers, running along the seam and dipping under just enough to make Bilbo want to beg for him to stop or go.

“To be frank, marlel,” Thorin kissed him to catch the whimpers that were falling from his lips. “Neither do I.”

Thorin’s knee had been creeping higher and higher up the bed and by now was firmly against his overly-clothed cock. Bilbo couldn’t help himself, and his hips moved to grind against Thorin’s muscular thigh. He wasn’t the only one that was overly clothed.

“Off. Now. Please?” Bilbo tugged at Thorin’s collar and coat with each word, and added a bit of a whine to the last one that he knew would turn Thorin into a dwarf of action.

“Your wish is my command,” Thorin bestowed one last smooch, sweeter than the ones before it, and pushed up onto his knees to strip his top half.

Bilbo would have bemoaned the loss of his dwarven roof if not for the show that he was immediately gifted. He laid flat on his back and watched with rapt attention, relishing in Thorin’s heated eye-contact, as Thorin shucked his coat and outer tunic and bared his beautiful, stone-carved arms to the room. Smith’s arms, warrior’s arms, arms that have beaten steel, silver, goblins and orcs into submission. Thorin tore off his undershirt and Bilbo was left winded.

His chest was as firm as marble, and looked nigh unpierceable (if Bilbo didn’t painfully know better). Crossed with puckered scars that were the furthest opposite of revolting, he looked like a battle-tested breastplate. His belly was large and strong, and Bilbo couldn’t help but crave to drag his hands over it- to run his fingers through the dense, coarse hair that darkened it in a mat from his collar to his groin. Bilbo was awed by the sheer majesty that radiated off Thorin’s skin. If he walked around just like this, Bilbo had no doubt every man elf and dwarf from here to the Blue Mountains would not hesitate to bend their knees. Bilbo sure didn’t.

All of this, not even to mention the outline that Bilbo could see against the fabric of Thorin’s trousers. Hard as oak, thick, mouthwatering. They’d done this before, of course they have, but each time Bilbo felt like he was seeing and feeling it anew.

“What are you looking at?” Thorin’s voice breached the fog that had settled over Bilbo and glazed his eyes. Bilbo couldn’t believe he was being teased at a time like this, as if he could get any harder or more desperate.

“You are the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen in my life,” Bilbo mumbled drunkenly. And by Yavanna, he thought he saw a bit of red dash across Thorin’s cheeks.

Thorin shook his head with fondness. “Hobbits and their honeyed words.” 

“You know other hobbits?” Bilbo asked, bemused and teasing. 

“I do not need to, for you are the pinnacle of them all, íbinê.” Thorin stepped out of his trousers and pants and knelt back on the bed in a smooth set of movements. “No other would even compare.”

Bilbo swallowed, half at Thorin’s words and half at- well…

“Well, then,” Bilbo said for the sake of saying something.

“But as sweet as your words are,” Thorin said, and settled back over Bilbo so they were hip to hip, his bare chest pressing against Bilbo’s cured thrice-damned robes, his breath brushing against the hollow of Bilbo’s ear. “I prefer it when you’re speechless.”

Bilbo trembled in his hands. “Oh.”

Thorin put his nose back to Bilbo’s throat and inhaled like Bilbo gave him breath. He pressed wet, open-mouthed kisses to the skin of his neck. Bilbo fought not to move too much, for every time he shifted the thick line of Thorin’s cock ground against his crotch and Bilbo was liable to faint. The king ran his hands down Bilbo’s flank until they hit the hem of his outer robes, then they went further and ducked beneath the fabric. 

“You, Master Burglar,” Thorin rumbled, perhaps just to make Bilbo shiver, and plucked at Bilbo’s robes impatiently. “are terribly overdressed for the occasion.” Thorin’s palms dragged two hot lines up and under his undershirt, over his stomach. Bilbo yelped as they squeezed his waist.

There was a lot of give in Bilbo’s waist; more than other places on his body, save for his thighs. Unlike Thorin, he was not made of sculpted iron and chiseled stone. He was only a hobbit, after all. Bilbo looked up at Thorin and saw the unparalleled strength and gods-like physique that Thorin wielded as well as he wielded an axe. He had to know what he looked like, how other people looked at him. Thorin was beautiful. A masterpiece, hand-crafted by his Maker. 

Bilbo was…well, Bilbo was a hobbit. A soft, squishy hobbit, with a body from a life of luxury and plenty, scarcely muscled even after so many months on the road. A body that Thorin has seen before, but…Bilbo felt odd, now. Perhaps all of that ogling he’d been doing hadn’t done him any good. He could reach up and take Thorin’s chest in his hands and it would give very little because Thorin led a life of discipline and hardship, and his whole being was evidence of it. 

Thorin had grown up around dwarves, and his attraction had grown around that. Was Thorin disappointed by him? The softness, the large feet, the lack of beard? Bilbo hadn’t even considered the beard before. Being smooth-shaven was a sign of deep shame in dwarven society, wasn’t it? 

Was Thorin even attracted to him, physically? That thought was not a pleasant one. Did Thorin force himself to overlook that every time they made love? Perish the thought. It made Bilbo want to hide under the covers.

Bilbo’s heart fluttered as Thorin began to work at peeling away Bilbo’s layers, but it fluttered for the wrong reasons. It fluttered with nerves, like he was about to be sick with them. Thorin had seen his body before- more than a dozen times, and not all in the bedroom. He didn’t know why now of all times was when he’d decided to feel so insecure. It was decidedly inconvenient to be ashamed of one’s body when in the presence of another who was trying very ardently to get him naked.

Too distracted with his internal turmoil, Bilbo hadn’t even noticed that he’d stiffened up until Thorin’s warm hands froze in place.

“Bilbo?” He asked. There was no tease in his voice. “Alright?”

“Fine! I’m-I’m fine, keep going,” Bilbo assured. Thorin withdrew completely. He took his hands off Bilbo’s body and propped himself up over him.

“Do you need to stop?” 

“No, no, I just…” Bilbo sighed and scrubbed his hands down his face. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I’m being ridiculous.”

“Never.” Thorin sounded deathly serious. He sat up and off Bilbo, and at once Bilbo both missed his heat and was thankful for the breathing space. He felt like he was about to cry. Damn it all. “Did I do something?”

“No. No, of course not, no. Nothing you did. It’s…” Bilbo couldn’t help but bite back the whole truth. “It’s just…myself. I’m having a hard time tonight, and I don’t know why. We do this all the time, I should be used to it.“

Thorin frowned at him, and Bilbo knew he wouldn’t get away with his half-sentences any longer.

“If you don’t want to do this, Bilbo, you don’t have to.” The concern from his voice came around to his eyes, and seemed to actually be rising into fear. “You should have told me if I was making you uncomfortable.”

“Thorin- no, that’s- I don’t mean it like that.”

“Then what do you mean?” Thorin started to shuffle back off the bed and that was the last thing Bilbo wanted, so he grabbed Thorin by the wrist to stop him. Thorin could shake him off, but stopped his retreat anyway. “If not me, then what? Hm?”

“I mean…I…” The words just wouldn’t come. Bilbo flushed with frustration and averted his eyes from Thorin’s to see if he could find his thoughts again. “Blast it, I don’t know. I don’t know how to say this. You’ll think me a fool.”

His king took pity on him. He took Bilbo’s hand off his wrist and held it. With the silent confirmation that that was alright, he then began to maneuver them both. “Come here,” he said, and sat on the bed behind Bilbo and sat back against the headboard. He coaxed Bilbo back with him so that Bilbo was leaning with his back to Thorin’s bare chest, with Thorin’s chin and beard settled against the crown of his head and Thorin’s arms around his middle. Exactly where Bilbo didn’t want them to be.

He bore it- though, normally he wouldn’t have to. Normally he’d be perfectly content, as warm and fuzzy as he would be if he were a cat stretched out in front of a fire, but Thorin’s proximity to the current object of Bilbo’s ire filled him with nothing but dread and stress. He felt like he’d ruined everything.

“Talk to me, ghivashel,” Thorin mumbled into his ear. “I would have you lend me your troubles so that we could share them. Please.”

“I…” Now Bilbo was going to cry. When Thorin spoke in that way, as if he were penning a love letter, Bilbo felt overwhelmed. Normally he was overwhelmed with something more primal, but now it was just fondness and guilt.

“Was I pushing too much?” Thorin asked, gently. “I thought you were reciprocating. Was I wrong? I won’t be upset. I…I understand I may come across…overly passionate”

Bilbo scoffed, incredulous. Thorin was aware of his faults, how he sometimes failed to read signs of Bilbo’s intentions purely because of how they sometimes differed from a dwarf’s, but Bilbo thought that the body language for being mindless with arousal was mostly universal. “Certainly not.” 

“Then?” 

There was nothing that could be done for it. Bilbo squeezed his eyes shut.

“Do you find me attractive, Thorin?” He asked with a voice as small as he felt, as small as Thorin’s hands on his stomach made him feel. Those hands twitched and tightened.

“Of course I do,” Thorin said the very second he processed the question. “You have a doubt in your mind about how much I adore you, labthûnimê? Have I made it so?”

Bilbo sighed. The hard part came now, where he tried to keep himself from sounding as vain as he sounded in his head. 

“Of course not. I don’t doubt that you love me, that you…adore me.” (Thorin’s blunt passion with words still made him blush even now, in his naked lap) “Not at all. But…are you attracted to me?”

He was quiet for a moment, likely thinking, and Bilbo found himself wishing he didn’t have to think so hard about it. Wishing that he'd just get it over with- or, rather, channel a hobbit and say something indirect and vaguely sentimental to avoid answering the question.’Your soul is gorgeous to me’ or ‘you have a beautiful heart.’

Thorin then said, “I don’t understand, ghivashel.”

Blast it, now Bilbo had to be specific.

“Well…put simply…” Bilbo’s gut churned with nerves. “Well…Thorin, you’re…gorgeous.”

“I…thank you?” 

Bilbo was glad that they were back-to-chest, for his cheeks were burning and he was in no mood to be teased for it.

“I mean that you are the most handsome dwarf in the mountain, by far, and…well, excuse me for being romantic, but I do think that you are the most attractive man in Middle-Earth. You’re strong. You exude power, your presence is astonishing. Your hair, your beard, marvelous. I’d use more colorful words, but I don’t fancy myself a poet, and I simply acknowledge that there’s very little that could compare to you.”

Bilbo swallowed.

“Certainly no hobbit. Soft and guileless as we are. And I know we've done this before but…I…I suppose I just looked at myself for the first time after looking at you, and…i-it’s a bit like putting pumpkins against potatoes, if you asked me. Only one of those makes a decent pie, anyway. Oh, I'm sorry, this is so ridiculous.”

Thorin’s hands began to squeeze and tighten.

“Oh, Bilbo.”

Bilbo didn’t love the tone of his words- the pity he thought he heard in it. He didn’t want pity, he just wanted Thorin to understand. What he really wanted was to hide under the bed until Thorin forgot all about this blunder and they could both go back to being blissfully ignorant of Bilbo’s sudden insecurities, but if Bilbo always got what he wanted he’d have been cozied into his armchair in Bag End before he’d even reached Rivendell.

Thorin gripped Bilbo tight enough to hurt and buried his face into Bilbo’s hair, sighing heavily and heating Bilbo’s scalp with his breath. 

“I’ve not been good to you, bunmel, if there is even a bit of you that thinks you are not worthy of me. It is I who is not worthy of you.”

Bunmel, the beauty of all beauties. He would use that one, given what Bilbo just confessed to him.

“I don’t want your pity,” Bilbo bit out grumpily, nestling into Thorin’s arms. “You asked, I answered, I don’t want you to make it anything more than what it is.”

“This is not pity,” Thorin ground out. “This is shame. My shame. How long have you felt like this? Why have you never said anything?”

“Thorin, it doesn’t matter, ” Bilbo insisted. He wanted to pull out of Thorin’s embrace, but he was putting those smith’s arms that Bilbo had just been admiring to good use. “I’m being childish and vain, and again, I’d thank you not to not to make it more than it is. And what good would telling you have done, even if I’d had these thoughts before? Not much you can do about it- you may be king, but you are neither Eru nor Yavanna.”

“I would not have allowed that thought to fester. I would not have allowed it to even take root. And I would have done this much sooner.”

“Done…” Bilbo furrowed his face. “What, exactly?”

Then Bilbo was flat on his back, head towards the foot of the bed, as Thorin had gripped him and flipped him and pushed him down as if they were sparring. He forced himself between Bilbo’s knees and shoved him into the mattress. It sent a jolt through Bilbo’s heart, his hands flying up to Thorin’s bare shoulders. Thorin was still naked. Somehow, Bilbo had almost forgotten.

“Thorin?”

Just like that, Thorin’s gentleness was almost gone. The heat in his eyes was not playful, but intense as a wildfire, nearly angry, but only just. He grabbed Bilbo’s hands, one and one, and pinned them to the bed above his head, leaving Bilbo’s front exposed.

Bilbo, who had flagged since the start of his spiral, was now very much at attention.

“Would you like to keep going?” Thorin asked, and fixed Bilbo with a very penetrating stare.

Bilbo flexed his throat. “Y-Yes?”

“Yes?”

He nodded nervously.

“Then stay there,” Thorin ordered. Bilbo did not feel inclined to disobey, for some reason.

“What are you doing?” He did, however, feel a little indignant at being manhandled like that. Just a little, but a little was enough. 

Thorin didn’t answer him, the bastard. He sat up on his knees, hands barricading Bilbo on his left and right…and looked.

Just looked.

Bilbo was spread out for him like a vulnerable feast in dwarven robes, and Thorin’s eyes wandered over every line and shadow of his body. Bilbo saw the expression for the first time, ‘undressing him with his eyes’. His face flushed just as hard as it had when Thorin had his hands under his clothes. That dread in his stomach returned just the same.

He broke his rules and brought his hands and arms down to shield himself- or rather, he tried. The moment he moved in that direction Thorin snatched his arms and pinned them again.

“Th-Thorin!” he yelped.

“Stay. There.” Thorin grumbled into Bilbo’s ear, a wave of heat and lightning following. “Or I will keep you there.”

Oh oh oh, he should not have said that. Bilbo was getting harder now than he had been before. His cock pushed against his pants.

“O-Okay, okay,” he whispered tightly.

“Hm.” Thorin retreated again. Bilbo kept his hands where they were as if Thorin had bolted them down. He wouldn’t lie: the thought of disobeying him was not appalling. But he needed to see where Thorin was going with this.

Thorin consumed him with a hunger Bilbo had scarcely seen, going as far as to wet his lips when his gaze sauntered over the swell of Bilbo’s belly and the apex of his thighs. The heat behind his gaze only grew wilder, a fire in a coal mine.

“Íbinel, if you think there is an inch of you that is not more desirable as gold, you would be sorely mistaken.”

Bilbo watched the plane of Thorin’s throat flex as he swallowed.

“I would have you know what I see when I look at you,” Thorin groaned. “I would have you know every thought that comes to my mind, and know it as absolute truth.”

Thorin descended on Bilbo just as he had before, but it was much different now that Bilbo wasn’t allowed to grab him back. His king started by wrapping his hands around both of Bilbo's biceps and licking a hot, wet stripe up the side of Bilbo’s neck. His hips moved agonizingly slow against Bilbo’s pelvis, grinding their members together.

“Thorin!” Bilbo squeaked, and a firm squeeze from Thorin’s hands silenced him.

“Your skin tempts me like no other. The allure of gold does not even compare,” Thorin breathed into his neck. “Soft. Unmarked. You should be wearing my bruises for the mountain to know whose you are.”

Wasn’t that a tempting idea? Bilbo thought so, once the feeling of Thorin’s tongue on his pulse-point stopped corking his thoughts. 

“I-I thought…dwarves…valued s-scars?” Bilbo huffed out.

“Scars are strength. They are a mark of survival. Proof of a will to live.” Then Thorin leaned up and in, until his lips touched the shell of Bilbo’s ear again, and his hands squeezed Bilbo's biceps. “You have nothing to prove. Not to me. Not to a single dwarf in this mountain. I have seen you survive with my own eyes. No scar could compare to watching you stand before my enemy and emerge unscathed.” Thorin moaned into his ear. “The things I wanted to do to you on that rock, and damn the company.”

Bilbo couldn’t reply, as Thorin’s hands were moving quickly. From Bilbo’s arms to the opening of his robes, Thorin spared him a meaningful look (at once both an assurance and ‘don’t even think about moving’) and pulled the layers apart to reveal Bilbo’s tunic.

“You look good in my colors,” said Thorin, whose hands had not stopped wandering. They came to rub over Bilbo’s chest and draw out a shaky sigh from Bilbo’s lips. “You’ll look better without them.”

“You and that damn line, I swear, you never run out of ways to- sweet Mahal!” Thorin had pinched one of his nipples with his thumb and forefinger through the fabric of his tunic. How he had even found it was a talent in itself.

“Look at you. I’ve got you cursing in the manner of my ancestors.” He straddled Bilbo’s lap to distract him as he made short work of Bilbo's robe, tossing it off somewhere in the room. He shuffled back down (damn him, and damn the drag of his cock down the length of Bilbo’s crotch that made him whine) and laid himself down on Bilbo’s legs. His chin was in line with Bilbo’s waistband, his fingers rubbing circles just a breath away from the skin of Bilbo’s hips. The electric sensation of almost made his hips jerk a little. So Thorin pinned him down with a bruising grip. 

Wearing his bruises for all the mountain indeed. Though he hoped that these ones weren’t meant to be public.

“But were it up to me,” Thorin said, back in that alluring, raspy tone that made Bilbo’s head spin. “The only name you will know by the end of this night will be mine.”

“Oh,” Bilbo whimpered. Then cried, “Oh!”

Thorin’s hands rucked up the bottom of his tunic to lay just above his stomach and Thorin dipped his tongue eagerly into Bilbo’s navel. His beard scraped deliciously over his skin, and his hands pinched and massaged and rubbed along his stomach as Thorin lavished it with his mouth. Bilbo was almost trembling under the strange sensation, hands clenching and unclenching. Feeling the flesh of his stomach give and pull like a soft pillow had Bilbo blushing, in good ways and bad. After many long, trembling minutes of what Bilbo could only describe as veneration, Thorin spoke again. 

“I cannot even fathom how this troubles you.” Thorin murmured, his words making damp buzzes against Bilbo's skin that felt like static shocks. “Galthúnel.”

Between his whimpers he stuttered out, “I-I'm soft. I'm n-not as strong as you are.”

“Yes,” -kiss- “you are.”

“I'm- mph-” Thorin nibbled a red spot at the bottom of his stomach, top of his groin, then soothed it with his tongue. “Not like you- oh, stop it!”

“No.”

Using both hands Thorin pushed up Bilbo's shirts until they were over his chest, then up and over his head. Shirtless and exposed, he glanced past the tempting view of Thorin's heady eyes; he could see the flesh of his stomach, tweaked and wet and oversensitive. Well-loved.

Thorin's nose traced a line, passed across his navel and up to his chest, and made eye contact with Bilbo from under his black eyelashes at a very dangerous angle that had Bilbo throbbing in his pants. “You are far stronger than me.”

He knew Bilbo was going to try to retort- he must have known - for the moment Bilbo opened his mouth Thorin latched onto one of his nipples. Bilbo squeaked and threw his head back, his hands fisting into the sheets over his head and straining with the force of his will to keep them still.

There weren't many words to describe the pleasure of Thorin's hot mouth and the scratch of his soft beard laving over Bilbo’s chest, Thorin’s other hand crawling up to pinch and drag his untended one. Bilbo had to resort to mindlessly pushing his hips up to try and relieve the ache that had settled there, and the heat that was beginning to grow. Thorin was grinding down just as he was, rutting at half of Bilbo's speed, and Bilbo half-worried it would be over before it got better.

Bilbo longed to slide his hands into Thorin's hair and tug the way he liked it, but Thorin knew his every move. His biceps only twitched and Thorin had released his pinch on one of his nipples to clamp down on his arms again. 

“Thorin,” Bilbo moaned. “Thorin, Thorin- please!”

Thorin had nibbled on him again- the bastard. Bilbo felt lucky he didn't squeal like a lass. Thorin gave him no time to recover, and bestowed his attention on the other. Bilbo's chest was slowly heaving, and he felt certain Thorin would be able to feel his pounding heart through his skin.

The pressure and friction against his cock was not enough, not even close, but it tugged him along like a wheeled toy on a string, closer and closer and closer.

“I'm- you have to-” Bilbo would have been humiliated at how quickly he was going if he had the space for thought around the slick movement of Thorin's tongue catching on the nub of his nipple. The slight scrape of teeth nearly sent him over with a desperate whimper. His hips worked harder and harder against Thorin's cock, chasing his end. “Thorin, Thorin, Thorin.”

Thorin pulled back and clapped his hands down on Bilbo's hips to still them. The stimulation was gone, and though Bilbo's legs twitched and futily resisted the weight of his hands he could feel the edge shrinking back. That wheeled toy was rolling its way right back down the hill.

“Not yet, Íbinê.” Thorin smirked down at him. His weighty cock reaching for attention between his legs belied his self-satisfied expression, but they both knew that Thorin has infinitely more patience than Bilbo had in these matters. He could go for hours. Had, in the past. 

Bilbo squirmed a bit, testing the strength of Thorin's grip. He didn't give an inch. 

“I-I-I can go again. You know I can. As much as you want,” Bilbo said breathily. 

Every dwarf seemed to have a favorite bit of information about hobbits. For Bombur it was their ability to put away meals. For Bofur it was their dedication to the craft of partying. 

For Thorin, it seemed, it was their general lack of any sort of refractory period at all. He’d said before he thought perhaps that dwarves and hobbits were made for each other in this respect, given how difficult it was to get the average dwarf ‘up and running’ versus how easy it was to get a hobbit to pop off in as much time. Compared to a dwarf It took next to nothing to get Bilbo singing like a bluejay, and Thorin loved to play him like a harp in an inordinately long symphony.

“Oh, I know you can. Masaddazulmuzm,” Thorin purred. That was one word Thorin refused to translate. “But you'd like that too much, and I haven't been able to prove anything to you yet.”

Bilbo didn't have anything to say to that, given that he was still trying to catch his breath and regulate the pounding of his heart. His hands still laid limply above his head, and there he intended to keep them until Thorin said otherwise.

Thorin leaned back over him, firm as an iron blanket, and though he kept his hips quite a distance from Bilbo's he laid a sweet, heavy kiss on Bilbo's lips. It was slower than all the others, and felt as if Thorin was trying to speak through it. He was an eloquent dwarf, with a mastery of beautiful words, yet there were times like this where there was not a word in any language that either of them knew that was sufficient to convey what they were thinking. Bilbo thought poetry was sweetest when it was being pressed against his lips.

Bilbo laid there and let himself be kissed. Certainly a change of pace, but not a wholly unwelcome one. Thorin dragged his hands down Bilbo’s flank, squeezing gently, and stroking his thumb over the divot of his hips through his trousers. Bilbo’s lips twitched. His whole body felt like a bit of raw skin, but in a decidedly pleasurable way, and the pressure of just Thorin’s thumb was enough to make him jump.

Thorin pulled back a little, allowing their faces barely two inches between them. Thorin’s hot breath brushed over Bilbo’s lips when he spoke to fill the weighty silence.

“There are some days where I simply can’t believe that you’re real,” he whispered. His thumb rolled in gentle circles- not meant to be enticing, more soothing. “When the sunlight catches you just right, I lose my breath. All these beautiful curls, blessedly long enough to braid. Prettier than any stone in the mountain. I would have you as crowning the jewel of my throne, if I knew you would let me.”

“Well, perhaps I don’t always fancy being pinned up against a rock to be gawked at,” Bilbo said.

“I know that to be deeply untrue.”

Thorin moved his hand, and at last they were lying chest-to-chest, with Thorin a warm weight over Bilbo’s front and his beard a pleasant scratch against his skin. Bilbo’s legs twitched again. Thorin swept his palm slowly up the side of Bilbo’s face, crawling up to knit into his hair and let the strands run over his fingers.

“Like pure, spun copper,” Thorin muttered. “And it holds the finest braids my hands have ever woven.”

Thorin’s attentions seemed to have shifted, as both of his hands came to cup Bilbo’s face, to draw the pads of his fingers over his lips and nose and to dance about in his hair like a tailor appreciating fine silk. He had a tiny, mischievous grin whenever his fingers passed against the shell and tips of Bilbo’s ears and caused a shiver to wrack him.

“As much as I’m enjoying this,” Bilbo said. “I thought you were meant to be teaching me a lesson?”

Bilbo tried to tempt him, gracefully rolling his hips against Thorins and groaning as the heat returned.

Thorin thrust down, pinning Bilbo’s lower half with his pelvis. Drat.

“I am,” he replied lowly.

His eyes weren’t focused on any particular thing for too long- Bilbo’s eyes, his nose, his lips, and especially his hair all fell under his gaze. He appeared to be getting lost in the lines and planes of Bilbo’s face.

“There is not a part of you that I do not adore,” Thorin continued. “From the hair on your head to the hair on your feet. Your beautiful eyes. Your adorable” -he pinched at the tip of Bilbo’s left ear and made him jerk- “ears. I hunger for you like no other, make no mistake.” In a slick movement one of his hands dropped and squeezed the still-sensitive flesh of Bilbo’s waist quite firmly. “But when I look at you, every inch of you, I see a being so purely beautiful you could have been plucked right from the garden of your maker.”

Thorin’s hand lowered, and squeezed again. His waist, to his hip, to his thigh, to his knee, and back up to rest on his hip again. More specifically, his waistband. Thorin’s thumb teased at the edge of it, flicking the lip of the fabric, and he stared openly at Bilbo just to watch his face get redder with anticipation.

Bilbo trembled. “Please.”

Thorin smiled. “Your wish is my command.”

He hooked his thumb into Bilbo's waistband and yanked down. He did the same on the other side with his other hand, and dragged Bilbo’s trousers and pants down in one move.

Goosebumps exploded over Bilbo’s skin as the chill of the room hit his cock all at once. Thorin was able to fully remove his bottoms and toss them, once again, somewhere into the ether to be picked up later. They both sat naked before the other, staring like statues that faced each other across a shared hall.

“No matter how many times we do this. Each time, you are more beautiful than you were the last,” Thorin husked. 

Thorin dropped a kiss to Bilbo’s lips and positioned himself over him. He gave him another, this time to the underside of Bilbo’s chin. Then to his Adam’s Apple, to the dip of his collarbone, to his sternum. Lower he climbed, taking his time as if they had eons of it, his lips and beard making Bilbo’s belly jump as he quickly lavished his navel again, until his head was set between Bilbo’s thighs and Bilbo was so anxious for his touch that he was almost panting for it. 

Bilbo looked down at him. Thorin looked up. He grabbed the meat of Bilbo’s furred white thighs and pried his legs apart, Bilbo’s cock bobbing in front of his face. He pressed some teasing, tonguing kisses into the joins of his hip and thigh, chuckling when Bilbo whined and quivered, then he took the head of Bilbo’s cock into his mouth and swallowed him down to the root.

Bilbo clapped his hand over his mouth before he could moan embarrassingly loud. The grip Thorin had on his legs kept him pressed to the bed and prevented his hips from bucking up into the wet heat of Thorin’s mouth.

Thorin slid off, the drag of his tongue curling over Bilbo’s head and punching a sob out of him, muffled by his palm. 

“Hands, galthûn,” he warned.

Bilbo obeyed, and uncovered his mouth. Thorin rewarded him by taking him all in at once until the tip of Bilbo’s cock hit the back of Thorin’s throat. He moaned even louder but was forced to resist the urge to silence himself, and ended up curling his hand into a fist and slamming it back down on the bed above his head.

Thorin worked with his mouth and hands. His head bobbed up and down, taking his cock in leisurely pulls, and his fingers were massaging Bilbo’s stones. Bilbo was considerably smaller than him in every way, so it was no hardship on his jaw (so he’d claimed before), and he could just about take all of Bilbo in one hand alone.

“Ah…ah…f-fuck…Th-Thorin, oh, Thorin,” Bilbo gasped. The grip his hands had on the sheets was painful. “So good. You’re so good, ‘s so hot, you’re so…I-I…” Bilbo couldn’t take his eyes off Thorin, until Thorin looked up at him from under his eyelids, lips stretched around Bilbo’s cock, and a rush of heat shot down his body just as soon as he felt Thorin’s thumb press against his fluttering hole.

“Thorin!” Bilbo shoved the back of his head into the mattress and keened as he spent into Thorin’s mouth without so much as a warning even to himself. His lover swallowed him just as easily as he had his cock. His hips jerked and strained against Thorin’s hands, giving spurt after spurt until he was left with just the aftershocks. His thighs quivered, flinching like they meant to close around Thorin’s head, and his chest heaving in beautiful exertion.

“Sorry, ‘m so sorry, I-I didn’t even…oh, mercy.” Bilbo was still catching his breath. Thorin popped off of his sensitive cock- literally ‘popped’, with the sound his mouth made -and licked his lips like Bilbo had given him a faceful of honey instead. Bilbo was glad for it- he had a feeling they were nowhere near done, and the image of Thorin catching his cum with his tongue was almost enough to get him ready for the next round.

“Pleading yet again mercy,” Thorin rumbled. “Yet you give me none yourself, writhing on my bed as you are.”

“And whose fault is that?” Bilbo breathed, then he yelped as Thorin’s calloused hand took hold of Bilbo’s shaft and picked up where his mouth left off. Bilbo could tell by the look on his face that Thorin was drinking up every last oversensitive pant that he tugged out of him.

“Mine,” Thorin grunted. His hand picked up some speed. Bilbo wasn’t as ready for him as he thought; a cold fire had engulfed his stomach, as if begging for a chance to breathe. Thorin leaned over him, propped up on one hand, voice as low as distant thunder. “It is my hand that undoes you. My mouth. My cock.” 

Bilbo cried as Thorin gave him a squeeze, nearly ready to shout, ‘too much!’

Instead, what he whimpered was, “Yours! Just yours.”

“Do you want my cock, Suzmazumimê?”

“Oh, please,” Bilbo drawled. He was fighting with himself to keep his hands over his head, twisting the sheets in his fingers, when all he wanted to do was grab Thorin by his beard, yank him down, and demand he stick his cock in him before Bilbo exploded.

“Will you beg for it?”

“I’m about to start!” Bilbo snapped. Thorin squeezed him harder and wiped the next thought out of Bilbo’s head.

Thorin then smirked, and he said, “You won’t have to.”

Bilbo furrowed his brow. Thorin loved it when he begged.

“Won’t?” Bilbo asked, dazedly.

“No. And do you want to know why?”

Bilbo wet his lips. “Why?”

Thorin’s thumb swiped over the head of Bilbo’s member right before he released him, and he grabbed the back of Bilbo’s head to pull him up into a searing kiss.

“Because you are beautiful,” Thorin whispered over his lips. “The fact that you let me anywhere near your gorgeous ass is a gift. Being able to fuck you is an absolute privilege, Bilbo Baggins; I should be the one begging you.”

Bilbo’s face flared up like a bonfire. 

“Please,” Thorin breathed again, sticking tiny, mouse-like kisses to Bilbo’s nose, cheeks, and lips. “Let me show you how beautiful you are. May I be granted the privilege of fucking you, Master Baggins?”

“Yes,” said Bilbo, feeling dizzy and nearly confused. He shook his head and sputtered, “Wh- of course! Thorin Oakenshield, if I don’t have you inside me in the next 10 seconds I’m going to- ah!”

“To what?” Thorin tilted his head, some of his hair tumbling off his shoulder.

“To-, to-,” Bilbo fought to find his words again, which Thorin was making exceedingly difficult by the steadily increasing pressure his thumb was putting on the skin behind his balls. When it began to rub in gentle circles, pressing further, grazing just so on the skin of his sac, Bilbo thought he felt something in him snap.

“Oil- inside- now,” he whined and pushed his hips down, hoping to make Thorin’s finger slip into where he wanted it most. “Please, please, please-”

“I told you, úkrad, there is no need to beg.” Thorin parted from him with one last kiss to his nose. “Your wish is my command.”

Bilbo was suddenly alone, strangely cold, when Thorin backed away to reach for their nightstand. He took that breathing space to get situated, shuffling his hips into a more comfortable position, spreading his legs, relaxing back into the bed to try and slow the thrumming of his heartbeat. He was mostly unsuccessful with that final task, as at that point his thoughts had been overtaken with a steady mantra of ‘finally’.

Thorin reappeared with a glass vial, half-full, and knelt right back between Bilbo’s legs like he was born to be there. He popped the cork of the vial, making heady eye contact with Bilbo all the while, and spilled a generous quantity on his hand. He restopped the bottle with just one hand, tossed it away onto the other side of the bed, and…and looked. Just looked. Again.

“I thought you said I wouldn’t have to beg,” Bilbo whined.

Thorin’s eyes dragged down his front. “You don’t. But you just have a little more patience than that, ghivashel.”

“I feel I have been very patient with you, Thorin.” Bilbo also had a feeling that the effect of his indignance was sorely mitigated by his flushed, twitching cock, blushing skin, and gentle panting. He watched Thorin liberally smear the oil over his right hand.

“Just a little bit more, my love.” Thorin’s eyes were fixed on his hole. Bilbo thought he saw his pupils dilate, but it was hard to tell in the low light.

Thorin then took Bilbo’s waist in his left hand, his right disappearing from Bilbo’s sight. When he felt the pad of Thorin’s index landing on the skin of his entrance, circling and rubbing oil around the rim, Bilbo’s stomach jolted and he closed his eyes in anticipation.

Finally, finally, finally-

“Look at me.”

Bilbo whined. 

“Look at me.”

Bilbo peaked his eyes open.

Thorin hummed with satisfaction. “There are those eyes.”

“Thorin!” Bilbo griped.

“Easy, easy.” Thorin had a loose smile on his face. “I just had to make sure I wouldn’t miss my favorite part.”

Bilbo thought to ask what he meant by that. Then Thorin’s finger slid knuckle-deep into his hole and Bilbo was moaning.

“Beautiful,” Thorin breathed, though Bilbo could barely hear it over the blood in his ears.

The initial stretch made pleasure zing over his skin. Thorin’s finger was thick- as thick as two of Bilbo’s own -and he moved in slow, even strokes that were agonizingly pleasurable. Agonizing in how slow they were, when Bilbo was just a few seconds away from tossing himself down on his front and demanding Thorin fuck him like an animal. But Thorin’s grip on his hip doubled as an anchor to keep Bilbo from fucking himself down on Thorin’s finger and forcing Bilbo to take what he was given. The prod of his index was almost exploratory, dragging across Bilbo’s walls and teasing his inner rim as it worked him open.

All Bilbo could focus on was the feel of it, until Thorin brushed over a spot that kicked a yelp out of Bilbo’s chest and made his cock twitch hard.

He saw, from under his hooded lids, how Thorin’s lazy smile sharpened.

“There you are.”

All that happened next seemed to happen immediately, in Bilbo’s mind.

Thorin thrust a second finger up alongside the first, and while Bilbo was gasping Thorin put them right up against his prostate and pressed.

Bilbo wailed, precum drooling over his cock, hips rolling and fighting Thorin’s grip.

Thorin groaned, and began to fuck Bilbo properly with just his fingers. 

“Oh, oh, more, p-please,” Bilbo moaned, meeting each thrust, legs falling open like he couldn’t physically keep them closed. “Thorin, love, I-I need- harder.”

Thorin wedged a third finger inside of him, and Bilbo’s head was thrashing from side to side.

“I love how wanton you are, íbinel,” Thorin grunted. “I would take the expression on your face and paint it if I possessed the skill. Hang it over my throne, in every hall. Every dwarf in the kingdom would know this beauty.”

He tried to imagine, as Thorin’s fingers pushed him along to his second orgasm, the image of himself in ecstasy hanging for all to see. Bilbo couldn’t blush with embarrassment even if he tried, as every ounce of blood that wasn’t racing through his veins was pooled in his cock.

“Oh, but I never could,” Thorin whispered. “They will simply have to burn with envy, knowing that this,”- he properly jabbed Bilbo’s prostate once more -”your pleasure, is mine and mine alone.”

Bilbo could think of little more than Thorin’s hands and the climbing pitch of his own moans, which Thorin also picked up on. He thrust his fingers even faster, leaning in to close his mouth of one of Bilbo’s nipples as he did before and watching him from under his eyelids.

“Ah, ah, ahhh, Th-Thorin!”

The swipe of his rough tongue over the nub was what did Bilbo in, and he stuttered out a moan and gasp as his hips kicked and he spurted cum over his and Thorin’s chests. Thorin fucked him through it, praising him, rubbing his prostate firmly until Bilbo thought he might weep with the hot-and-cold, staticky feeling of too-much pleasure. His breath was skipping in his chest, which Thorin stroked to help calm him down. His fingers were still inside him, not moving. Thorin was looking at Bilbo like a bag of precious gems.

When Bilbo caught his breath Thorin spread his fingers and pulled an overstimulated mewl from Bilbo’s lips. He shushed him with a swift kiss, and whispered sweet nothings to soothe him through the rest of the stretch.

Thorin was big for a dwarf, and was quite proportional. He was also determined to eliminate any possible chance of Bilbo getting hurt by his own hand (or cock, in the case) and went the extra mile with the stretching before the main deed. Right now his love and care felt like sugar in an open wound, but Bilbo would be remiss to tell him to stop. The timer on his refractory period was ticking down very quickly, and his cock was making a valiant effort to wind back up.

Bilbo spared a look at Thorin. He hadn’t thought to before, with his mind so blurry with lust.

Thorin’s cock was so hard it looked painful; it was flushed deep red from root to tip, great vein bulging on the underside, leaking steadily onto the sheets. The pitch black nest of hair at the base made it stand out even more starkly. Thorin had a gleam of sweat over his chest and neck and a loving, focused expression as he worked Bilbo open. When the pain bled to hot, burning pleasure and the sounds that fell from Bilbo’s lips were more moans than groans, Thorin eased his fingers out of Bilbo’s ass with one last graze of his prostate.

“Thorinnn…” Bilbo whined, dipping his hips down to try and grab him back. He was so empty now, so chilled. If he hadn’t been sure something greater was coming Bilbo might have demanded his dwarf put his fingers right back where they were.

“Oh I know. You’re incorrigible,” Thorin said. He took his cock in hand- which Bilbo watched, with rapt attention -and hissed through his teeth as he gave himself a few pumps. Thorin’s head rolled back and he clenched his jaw tight, looking like he was fighting off spilling into his own fist. Bilbo felt flattered, having not been able to touch him the whole time they were here and still having him nearly overcome with his desire.

“You’re gorgeous,” said Bilbo.

“And you are nothing less than divine.”

Thorin loomed over Bilbo, his hair falling over his shoulders, his arms and legs caging him. Thorin’s cock dragged through the spill left on Bilbo’s belly as he rubbed up against him, teasing him and taking his own edge off.

“No more,” Bilbo pleaded. He kept his hands still, but he moved his lower half up to meet his lover’s. “No more teasing. I need you inside me. Thorin Oakenshield, if you don’t fuck me right now I truly might cry.”

“Mm. We can’t have that. You’re far too beautiful for tears.” But Thorin kept up his slow and dirty grind, and Bilbo actually did hiccup in his frustration and desperation.

“Please, my love. Please, fuck me,” Bilbo begged.”

“Shh shh shh. I’ll take care of you. I’ll always take care of you,” Thorin soothed. “Just answer one question, ghivashelimê. One question, and I’ll give you what you need.”

“Anything,” stammered Bilbo. “Anything you want.”

“Just one question…” Thorin rested his forehead against Bilbo’s and gave him a significant look. “Do you believe me?”

“B-Believe you?” Thorin’s cock had begun to rub up against the side of Bilbo’s in Thorin’s grinding, and was making it hard to focus. “Believe what? Wh-what do you mean?”

Thorin stayed his hips, and the only movement was in the rise and fall of his and Bilbo’s breathing.

He asked, “Do you believe me now when I tell you that you are one of the most desirable creatures on this earth, and that I want nothing more than to ravish you until you can’t speak any name other than my own?”

Bilbo’s breathing stuttered a little, and his heart ached. For all that his head was swimming, it allowed him to piece together most of everything that Thorin had said to him since he pinned him down- everything that Thorin did to him not withstanding -and he’d been nothing but earnest. Genuine in his lust over Bilbo’s body, genuine in his very evident appreciation, and genuine in the compliments and praises he’s lavished over Bilbo every time he’s opened his mouth. Bilbo had never felt more attractive than when Thorin was pawing at Bilbo’s curves and ravishing his soft belly, when he only had eyes for Bilbo’s face as he took him down his throat, and when he was watching Bilbo roll through an orgasm with nothing but pure adoration and heat in his expression. And he felt like a fool for doubting Thorin for even a moment.

Gingerly, Bilbo moved his hands. His shoulders and arms were aching and sore, his palms itching from the nail-indents Bilbo had pressed into them, and he brought his hands down between them to cup Thorin’s face. Thorin let him do this, and let Bilbo stroke his thumbs over Thorin’s cheekbones and bury his fingers into his beard.

Bilbo took a deep breath and said with conviction, “I believe you.”

The grin he got in return was downright wolfish.

“Good.”

Thorin crushed his lips against Bilbo’s and took his thighs in hand, spreading Bilbo’s legs apart as far as they could go. Bilbo tried to help, spreading until it hurt, and tangling his hands in the hair at Thorin’s scalp. Thorin hummed deliciously into their kiss, and Bilbo felt the blunt, slick head of his cock pressing up against his entrance.

Thorin began to roll his hips, and as soon as the head of his cock breached him Bilbo broke their kiss with a low moan. He gripped Thorin’s hair tighter. Thorin had one hand on his own cock to guide his way, the other encompassing all of Bilbo’s waist and squeezing in time with his rolls.

“You take me so well,” Thorin muttered as his cock speared Bilbo inch by inch. Bilbo was too overcome with the stretch and fullness to return much more than a whine. “So well. So beautiful. No other could compare.”

He kept his thrusts shallow and even until his hips were flush with Bilbo’s ass. When they connected, Thorin gasped like he’d been holding his breath and his grip on Bilbo’s waist became two on his ankles, bringing Bilbo's legs up and onto his shoulders. Bilbo's puffed as he tried to settle himself, and he opened his eyes to find Thorin’s piercing blue gaze looking at him like he were made of mythril.

“Beautiful,” Thorin whispered again. Overcome, he pressed a kiss to Bilbo’s ankle, and began to move. 

His cock fit into Bilbo perfectly, stretching him on every inward thrust and coaxing high moans from him. His movements got faster and faster, driving Bilbo against the mattress. He tried to keep eye contact with his king, but his eyes kept rolling up into his head as Thorin’s cock dragged against that spot inside him and made him see lights behind his eyelids. Thorin was grunting with ecstasy each time their hips connected, each slap of their skin making Bilbo clench on his cock.

Thorin descended on him, folding Bilbo’s legs against him until they were close enough to kiss. He did most of the kissing, as Bilbo’s mouth was loose with pleasure and he couldn’t seem to control it around the yelps and long moans that Thorin was punching out of him at each downward stroke. His lips found Bilbo’s cheeks, his chin, his forehead, the corners of his lips, and his deep huffs were interspersed with praises.

“You were made for me. Made for my cock. Take me so well, so perfectly, you’re so perfect. Amrâlimê, úkrad, bunmel, Bilbo, Bilbo, Bilbo-”

“Thorinnn…Thor-in, Thorin, oh, ah, Th-Thorin, Thorin!”  Bilbo cried. His love had been right- that was the only thing he knew how to say.

“Say my name. Say it. That’s it. So perfect. So beautiful,” he ground out, his thrusts getting sloppy but frantic. 

“‘Mmm gonna- ‘m gonna-” Bilbo gasped with half-lidded eyes. “G-gonna make me cum, I’m gonna cum, please, don’t stop- ah! Oh, don’t stop, don’t stop!”

Thorin let go of Bilbo’s legs and instead grabbed his waist like he was grabbing the hilt of a sword. Bilbo let his legs fall to the side and wailed as Thorin’s thrusts became longer, deeper, and harder, his cock grinding against his prostate. One sharp pound jabbed his cockhead right into it and Bilbo came with a keen, splattering over his chest and stomach.

Thorin fucked him through it like his last one, drawing it out and making Bilbo feel like he was about to catch fire. Loose moans still popped out of him as Thorin chased his own end, grunting Bilbo’s name alongside more Khuzdul that Bilbo was hopeless to decipher. After a few seconds, Thorin’s hips stuttered and he was coming with a groan like an earthquake rattling the mountain, flooding Bilbo’s insides and wrenching one last cry out of Bilbo before collapsing onto him.

They stayed together in the humid air, the only sound being their collective breaths trying to catch. Thorin shifted a bit so he wasn’t crushing Bilbo under his weight (despite that currently being Bilbo’s preferred way to die) and stuck lazy kisses on each bit of skin that he could reach. Bilbo lifted his limp, jelly-like arms up so he could rub Thorin’s scalp and bring out that little rumbling sound he made whenever Bilbo played with his hair. A few long moments of this, then Thorin’s softened cock resting inside him became a little uncomfortable. Thorin felt the same, and at last pulled out of him with a quiet groan. He lifted Bilbo under his shoulders and pulled the both of them back so that they were resting properly on the bed, heads against the mussed pillows, and so Thorin could tuck him against his body and breathe into his hair.

Bilbo floated on a cloud of contentment as Thorin’s arms came around him and held him like something precious. One hand traced lazy runes into the soft skin of his chest, and the other did nothing but give him warmth. Thorin pressed his lips into Bilbo’s sweat-damped curls, over and over, and Bilbo hummed with absolute peace.

“I want to make you a new circlet,” Thorin murmured after a while, clearing some fog from Bilbo’s head. “Dahlia flowers. Rubies, set in mithril. I would weave it into your hair alongside your beads. You would radiate beauty like Kementári herself.”

Bilbo’s eyes burned. Red Dahlias. Did he know…? He must. He was so specific about the color, and he knew them by name. Bilbo’s thoughts ran in a manner that reminded him of all those long lessons in flower language from his mother when he was a faunt, reciting from memory what he’d been taught.

Red Dahlias. Red for inner strength, perseverance, and the ability to overcome hardship. Dahlias for commitment, for a bond that endures. 

An enduring relationship in spite of hardship. A bond in spite of betrayal. A commitment to forgive in the face of deep, passionate love.

Thorin mistook his silence. “Too much?” he asked.

“No!” Bilbo said at once. He was fighting the urge to sniffle. “No, no, it’s…that…that would be perfect. More than perfect.”

“And the dahlias…they’re-”

“Perfect,” Bilbo whispered. He wriggled in Thorin’s hold, twisting around until they faced each other. “Who told you?”

Thorin looked falsely wounded. “You assume that I didn't learn for myself the language of your people?”

"No I- oh, I didn't mean it like that, you ass." Bilbo flicked his chest. Then he contemplated for a moment. "Did you? Learn it yourself, I mean."

"I had...some help. Mostly so I didn't insult you by accident. But the bulk of the research was mine. I wanted to surprise you."

"You did," said Bilbo. "Even I can't think of another flower that would be more perfect for us. You did well."

Thorin inclined his head, and pressed his kiss to Bilbo's brow. He held his lips there like he meant for the moment to be carved in stone.

“Thank you, úkradimê.”

Bilbo tucked his head beneath Thorin’s chin, reveling in the scrape of his beard, and drifted away in his arms.

~~~~~~~~~~

Translations for the Khuzdul used:

Labthûnimê- my adoration (adoration-of-me) Galthûn- ‘delicious one’ Àrsûn- ‘hot one’ Amrâlimê - my love Úkrad; úkradimê- ‘greatest heart’; ‘my greatest heart’ Íbinimê; íbinel- My gem; gem of all gems Marlel- love of all loves Masaddazulmuzm; Suzmazumimê- rabbit; my bunny (little rabbit)

Thanks for reading! Let me know if and how you like it. You can read the Ao3 upload at the link above at my main acc Sullen_in_Love.

[giggly-squiggily]

TickleTober Day 26 ~Counting~ (Blue Lock)

“Hey.” A poke to his cheek roused him. “I can’t sleep.”

“That makes two of us.” Isagi blinked a few times before turning to Bachira’s big eyed stare, luminous in the dark room. “Why don’t you try counting sheep?”

“Tried it. It’s boring.”

“That’s the point?”

“Yeah, but now that I realize it’s boring, I can’t do it anymore.” Bachira snuggled closer, a pout forming on his face. “I need a new thing to count.”

“Count soccer balls then.” Isagi barely fought down a yawn, eyes growing heavy. “I did warn you about napping earlier, no?”

“Yeah, but Isagi~” When Isagi didn’t respond, he poked his shoulder, then his arm. Finally- he poked along his side, walking down his ribs with each tap. “One…two…three…”

“Mmph!” Isagi squirmed at each jab- lips pressed shut as he struggled not to make noise. “B-Bachira! It’s the middle of the nihihght!”

“So? You said count something! Where was I? Oh yeah- three…four…five…” Bachira’s voice was barely over a whisper as he tasered Isagi’s side, not heavy enough for proper laughs but soft breathy titters. “How many ribs did you say we have again?”

“Tweehhehehenty fohohohour! Twhehehehlve on ehehehahch sihihihihide!” Isagi giggled out, face half shoved in his pillow to muffle the embarrassing sounds. “Bahahhachira, whehehehe’ll wahahhake eheheveryone up!”

“Not if you keep your voice down. Kay- I’ll just have to count your side twice then! Six….seven….eight…” Each poke towards his lowest ribs was agony. Bachira drew out each number like a slow note, hovering over the spot he knew Isagi would die at. “Should I do it?”

“Yooohu’ll wahahhake the teheheheham!”

“The team’s already awake- just tickle him already!” Raichi called from his futon. That’s all Bachira needed. Within seconds Isagi was squealing with mirth, flailing in his sheets as his worst spot was tormented.

“Bahahahhahahahahchira, wahhahhahhahahhait!”

“Hehehe- that’s right! Laugh for me, Isagi!”