#he’d be like ‘mmmmm handsome’

[i90o3]

hiya :) do you have any crowe x reader relationship canons?? i need more content of him </3

Crowe Headcanons.

context: Crowe hcs!! love this sweet boy

The kid at the back (Tkatb). Crowe x reader. | Anypov. Fluff.

mwehehehehehe I actually just played the updated version recently..smirks evilly and rubs hands together.

- Crowe is such a gentleman so I think he’d ALWAYS open/hold the door open for you, even if you’re an independent person, he’s rushing to get ahead of you to grab the door.

- Acts of service and quality time kinggg. Always wants to be near you at lunch, with his friends, studying, in class. But if you have things to do, he’s obvi not gonna pressure you to be with him allll the time.

- He’s always doing things for you, etc: the door holding yk. But he’ll get food for you if you don’t wanna wait in the lunch line, he’ll carry your bag/books for you, write extra class notes for you if you weren’t there/snoozing away!!

- Mandatory he walks you home everyday after school. Especially with those missing persons cases?? He’s getting you home safe and sound—even if it’s the last thing he does!! (oh wait..)

- Stares at you, even if you’re looking back at him or not. He just loves to admire you because you are goddess/god in his eyes. He can’t take his eyes off you—nor does he want to.

- Back to what I said about quality time, crowe loves being near you. When he is near you, he’s almost always touching you (as long as you’re comfortable). His hands is either interlocked with yours, or his fingers are brushing against your arm, or your arms are interlocked, his arm around your waist..you name it! if he can be pressed up against you, he will do it.

- Mmmmm kisses with this man are so sweet and gentle, but fireworks at the same time. His hands hold you so gently, but the way his lips move against yours is almost desperate. Like you can just tell he’s in love with you by how he kisses you.

- I imagine him as both a big and little spoon. He of course likes to protect you and hold you close to him, but he also just wants to be held.

- OMG playing with his hair..brushing it, braiding it, putting hair clips in it. His hair is soo silky and smooth it’s so easy to run your fingers through it. He loves when you play with his hair and massage his scalp, he’ll fall asleep right on your chest.

- He cannot shut up about you to anyone who would listen. “y/n is so handsome/gorgeous,” “y/n is so smart,” “y/n is amazing,” “y/n y/n y/n.” like okay pal we get it your in love.

- I def feel like he’d leave little love notes in your locker for you or in your textbooks. Just cute little stuff like, “you look good today,” or “I adore you.” Or even reminders about assignments or tests.

- He’s just such a cutie patootie and a good boy, give him loads of kisses. mwah mwah mwah.

1:55 pm 11/07/2024. @i90o3

[ramp-it-up]

Try a Little Tenderness

Paring: Mob Boss! Steve Rogers x Reader

Word count: 3.7 K

Summary: Steve can’t win you with presents. He’s got to try a little tenderness.

Warnings: 18+ As always, MINORS DNI, SMUT, Lil bit of ANGST. Not Beta’d. All mistakes my own. Pining, flirting, organized crime, implied ice skating, teasing, former jerky boyfiend, inexperienced reader, nipple play, oral (both receiving) p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it up!) breeding kink, size kink, crying during sex, violence (due to mob world).

A/N: This is for #DJ’sAllIWant4KChristmas and based on this ask.

I no longer operate a taglist. Follow @rampitupandread to be notified when I post.

I Do NOT consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

“Good morning, Steve!”

You were stocking onions, but you looked up and smiled as the tall blond entered the store, setting off the bell. He was well built and handsome and wearing a fine wool coat with a red scarf. It was a cool December, but New York had not yet had its first big snowfall.

“Mornin’, Ambrosia,” came his gruff response. 

You kind of liked his early morning voice. And the nickname. The first time he came in, he’d picked up an apple, already biting into it but also already paying. He handed you a twenty and said, “Mmmmm, Name?”, pointing to you with the apple. Flustered, you replied with the name of the apple instead of your name and the rest was history. 

This morning, Steve smiled at you and his blue eyes were sparkling. They always sparkled when he looked at you. He seemed very sweet.

“The usual.”

You laughed and went behind the counter to wash your hands.

“Of course, already had the fixin’s set up for you.”

You started the water for the espresso and got out the fresh everything bagels you’d put aside for him. Steve was one of your best customers, coming in every morning, and several evenings. He’d been coming in for about four months now.

Steve settled at the counter and watched you prepare his food. He looked at his watch: 7:42 am. He knew you'd been at work almost two hours now and that you were working very hard. One of your braids had come undone from your bun, and he wanted to put it back, but he didn’t touch you. You wore no makeup, yet your skin always glowed, and when you looked up at him, his heart nearly stopped. 

You were naturally beautiful. And your apron did not hide your curves. Or the fact that you were wearing the same pants that you’d worn three days ago. Steve figured that you didn’t have many clothes. He had the urge to take you shopping on Madison Avenue and let you go crazy. But somehow he knew you would never blow a load of cash on clothing. And that’s part of why he was so far gone on you.

He watched you battle your espresso machine with bemusement.

“Why haven’t you set up your new machine yet?”

You stopped and put your hands on your hips, looking so cute that Steve restrained himself from jumping over the counter.

“Is that from you?” You shook your head. “I suspected it.” 

Steve had unexpectedly given you many gifts, the espresso machine, a cash register. He’d even tried to have a new walk in cooler installed. You refused and sent back everything he’d sent. It wasn’t right. He barely knew you. 

You wondered what he did for a living, always dressed in the finest and able to afford multiple thousand dollar gifts. You figured that he was one of those Angel investors. Well, he wasn’t very good at being anonymous.

You watched as Steve gave you a lopsided grin, then leaned over the counter toward him. 

“Listen. Steve. Mr. Rogers.” 

You looked from his eyes, to his perfect lips, to his golden St. Christopher’s medal. He smelled so damn good. You bit your lip and Steve smiled, warmed by your proximity. This was his chance.

“Yeah, Ambrosia?”

“I’m not taking your gifts.”

You straightened up abruptly, handed him his drinks and finished his order. You gave him two folded newspapers.

“One Daily News for your friend and one News Day for you.” 

“Have you thought about it yet?”

You raised your eyebrow at him.

“About what?”

You thought he was finally going to ask you on a date. You knew the main reason he came in was to check you out. But you weren’t about to be bought.

“About the possibility of getting The Times in here? Alright, the Sunday Times at least.”

“Sorry Steve, it doesn’t sell. If it doesn’t sell, I don’t order. Can’t afford a non starter. But I do subscribe to the Sunday Times myself for the crossword. You can borrow mine any time.”

You winked at him. Something about Steve brought out your inner flirt.

Steve wanted to say something about sharing the Sunday Times in bed, but he thought better of it. Any other girl, and he would have been able to spit all kinds of game. But with you, he was tongue tied.

Steve sipped his coffee and shook his head as you gave him his bag.

“You are the most stubborn person I have ever met.”

You waved at him as he stood up.

“Have a great day!”

Steve chuckled at your dismissal as he walked out of the door. Bucky was waiting by the car. Steve handed him his cup and sandwich. 

“Send Sam to pick up the espresso machine.”

“Still a tough nut, eh?”

“Yeah. She’s still refusing gifts…”

Steve got in the passenger seat while Bucky sat behind the wheel.

“Instead of giving her all of this expensive shit, why don’t you just be nice to her?Ask her out ice skating or something.”

Steve scoffed. He didn’t know how to ask a girl out anymore. He felt like that scrawny kid running around with Bucky back in the day. Now, women were always clawing at each other to get to him. And they always wanted something. 

Steve didn’t respond to Bucky, just asked about his calendar.

“What’s on the agenda for today, Buck?”

“We gotta meet with the truckers today. They don’t want to bend to our terms.” Steve put on his sunglasses. 

“We know what to do to make ‘em bend, don't we Buck?”

“Sure do, buddy.” 

You were in your walk up apartment above the store halfway listening to the 10 o’clock news. They were doing a story about an explosion at the Eatern Tri-State Trucking hub in Bay Ridge as you put your body oil on after your shower. The reporter indicated that authorities thought that the Valkyrie crime organization was behind it. You were zoning out looking forward to the next day.

You were glad that Janie and Nate would be back at work tomorrow. Nate had just taken a week off, and Janie had recovered from the flu.  You were going to take the next afternoon off. You could have taken the entire day, but you wanted to open up for some reason.

Running an organic bodega in Brooklyn was a tough job, but the business was growing, but it was even tougher when your help was not there. You deserved a bit of a break.

The next morning, you were humming an Otis Redding song when Steve came in. You looked over your shoulder and caught him looking at your ass.

“Good morning, Mr. Rogers.”

“Mornin’ Ambrosia.”

“The usual?”

Steve wanted to say no, I want to ask you to marry me, but that might be a little too forward.

“Yeah.”

He sat down at the counter and noticed that you had on something brand new. When you turned around, he gestured to your outfit.

“What’s the occasion?”

You looked down and then grinned. 

“This outfit is my Christmas present to myself. I’m taking the afternoon off and I’m going into the city to go to the Central Public Library.”

Steve tried to respect your glee. But he had to do it.

“How thrilling.”

“You’re a mean one, Mr. Grinch, “ you quipped.

Steve laughed at you. He thought about what Bucky said the day before.

“Grinch hunh. Well, would a Grinch offer to take you ice skating instead?”

You turned around and leaned on the counter. Steve leaned toward you.

“I don’t know. Are you offering, Mr. Grinch?”

You loved teasing him. Steve groaned.

“C’mon. I’m trying here. Ambrosia. Do you want to go ice skating with me in the city this afternoon? And to dinner afterward.”

“Are you asking me on a date?”

Steve was very close to you now, staring at your lips.

“Yes.”

You stood up and put your hands on your hips.

“It’s about time. Sure!”

Steve laughed at how easy it was. You shoved his order into his hands.

“Pick me up at 1.”

Steve was grinning like an idiot out at the car, and didn't know how he got there.

“So you finally asked her out, hunh?”

Steve snapped out of it as he got in the passenger seat.

“Move the talks up to 10. I’m taking the afternoon off.”

“Rumlow is stalling. I can handle it this evening.”

“You sure?”

Bucky looked at his best friend.

“Sure as shootin’.”

You and Steve had a great afternoon, and Steve thought that ice skating was genius. He had to thank Bucky. You had to hold hands to stay steady, and when he pulled you in close, you didn’t pull back so you could stay warm. He didn’t know that you were thinking the same things.

Steve got to treat you to Via Carota and you two walked right in. The food was great, the wine was amazing, and you even stole a kiss in your corner booth. The night was perfect.

He drove you back to your place and you sat in the car for a minute. He’d been a perfect gentleman, and you were the one to make the first move with the kiss. You looked at him quizzicaly.

“Can I ask you something, Steve?”

“Yes, Ambrosia, anything.”

“After today, this afternoon and tonight. Do you still like me?”

“What kind of question is that? Of course. Why do you ask?”

You looked down. 

“Well, you’ve been such a gentleman. I see how you look at me, all hungry all the time. And the gifts. I don’t know. I just thought you’d be. You know. More…”

“Aggressive?” Steve responded.

“Well. yeah. I just thought.”

You looked back up and saw that Steve’s eyes had darkened.

“I am not a gentle man in my everyday life, Ambrosia. And I know that I can come on strong. But you make me want to be tender with you. I want to cherish you.”

“Oh.”

And Steve pulled you in for a sweet, but sexy kiss.

“So, yes, I still like you. And I have very aggressive thoughts about you. Want to ruin you in fact. But I want to do it carefully. Make you feel it. And make you glad you did.”

“Oh. No one has ever…damn, Steve.”

He recognized that you had been hurt.

“Here’s an aggressive question. What kind of an asshole would make you feel that way about yourself? His name is all I need.”

You laughed.

“Do you want to come up for the answer?” You cocked your head at him as he chuckled and nodded.

“Yes.”

When you got up to your place, you were settled with a glass of wine on your couch.

“I’m not going to give you his name, but I will tell you that we were together for a few months, and we only did it a few times. He’s the only one I’ve ever been with.”

The way you looked as him made Steve’s heart soft, but other things hard.

“It…It didn’t feel good. He said I was frigid and too small. I… I went to the doctor and everything. She said I was fine physically. So I figured it must have been in my mind and I haven’t been able to get out of my head after that. He broke it off and then I just decided to focus on work.”

You peered at Steve to see his reaction.

Steve’s eyes flashed with anger, then cooled.

“That joker is a fucking idiot.” 

His eyes traced your body.

“He didn’t know what to do with all this?”

Steve reached for you and kissed you, this time with undeniable passion. You broke away and stood up, offering him your hand.

“Show me, Steve.”

He stood up and followed you to your bedroom.

You stood at the foot of the bed and reached up to kiss Steve, and he picked you up and sat down, sitting you down with both of your legs over his. You made out like this, Steve’s hands still in neutral places until you whined and scooted closer to him.

Then, he went under your sweater, finding your nipple in your bra and brushing it with his thumb. He was exhibiting intense will power, but he couldn’t hold it all back as you responded to his passionate kisses.

Steve lifted your sweater off and your tank top, which was underneath, with it. Your bra contained your breasts, but your nipples were erect and straining against the material. He brought your body towards his for a kiss, his thick fingers pressing and playing with your sensitive buttons. He had you squirming on his lap as he reached around and expertly unfastened your bra.

He looked down at you and then back up, eyes hungry. You’d been yearning for that look.

“I’m gonna cherish this moment, get you ready for me, Baby. You’re gonna feel so good.”

He was weighing and kneading your breast and tenderly flicking your nipple, then he leaned down and kissed you, moving down your neck and collarbone, descending your chest and kissing all around your areolas, teasing your stiff nipples.

He had you moaning and writhing, wanting some friction for your cunt.

“Patience, Baby. You’re gonna get everything you deserve. Including this.”

Steve moved your hand to the hard member in his pants, which you tried to grip in vain through his slacks. You whimpered in frustration.

“I know. I know. I want to do so many things with you.” 

Steve’s fingers were in your leggings, through our panties and tracing your wet pussy lips gently as he finally started sucking your nipples. You pulled his hair wantonly as he teased you.

“Mmmmm. Who’s got you all wet, Ambrosia?” he asked, as he pulled his fingers out and put them in his mouth.

“Y-you, Steve… unhhhhh.”

The sight of him relishing your taste made you even wetter. And he found out, because his hand was right back down your pants. 

His lips were at your ear and he was breathing hard.

“Can I…”

His thick finger parted your lips and the rough pads of two fingers slid over your clit into your wetness. You arched your back in anticipation.

“...Can I eat you out, my sweet Ambrosia?”

His voice and the request sent you on a tailspin. You nodded vigorously as Steve pulled his hand out to your whine of desperation at the loss of contact.

You quickly stood up as Steve captured your hips to stand still in front of him. His eyes raked up and down your form as he took hold of the waistband of your pants, and slowly pulled them and your panties down your legs. You stepped out of them and Steve’s hands ran back up your form as you looked down at him. He grabbed the backs of your thighs as he pulled you near him.

Steve put one knee over his shoulder and stared at your most intimate part. 

“She’s a sweet little flower. So pretty and tight.”

His fingers were parting your folds so he could see even more.

“But she will be ready for my thick cock, I know she will, Ambrosia.”

He pulled you forward and held you up as he licked through you, almost causing a near stroke as far as you could tell. 

“Mmmmmm,” Steve’s eyes rolled back into his head.  “You are so sweet. I could eat you all night.”

You almost cried as he dove back in, grabbing his hair for purchase. He grabbed your bottom and stood to place you on the bed. He kneeled on the floor and held you down and open with his huge hands.

Steve started his feast, gently licking at first, then made you build to a crescendo as he started tongue fucking you. He made sure to stimulate your nipples, and when he felt your hard little nub vibrate, he sucked your clit hard as you came.

“Was that good?”

“Oh my stars, that was good.”

You both laughed.

“You’re so fucking cute, Ambrosia, but there’s levels to this.”

You sat up and watched as  he took off his shirt. You were sure that your eyes were sparkling now.

“It’s just going to get better and better.”

He was just clad in his black boxer briefs, a huge bulge leading the charge. He reached in and you were certain that he was going to pull out an entire pack of socks, but instead, he showed you the largest, thickest dick you’d ever seen. Your eyes were like saucers. You were a little afraid, but your legs fell open out of reflex. 

“See what you do to me?”

You bit your lip and nodded, reaching out and touching it tentatively.

“I’ve never seen one that big.”

You looked up at him and his heart melted simultaneously as his cock jumped. Your trembling fingers around him made him almost bathe your hand in his spend.

“Oh, Baby.. So sweet.”

“You are too, Steve. I want to taste you.”

You looked up at him through your lashes and Steve groaned, trembling with the effort to hold back.

“Christ… I’m…I…. Whatever you want, Baby.”

You stared at his cock for what seemed like forever. Then, you tentatively reached out and kitten licked his tip, causing him to groan as he palmed the back of your head.

“You’re killing me here, Ambrosia.”

“Hmmm.” You smiled. “Lay down for me, Steve.”

He did as he was told and put his arm behind his head to watch you. The way his muscles bulged inspired you anew. He reached down and roamed his fingers over your body as you hovered over him. You stroked him a couple of times and then played with his balls, Steve putty in your hands.

“B-babyyyy.”

You smiled in triumph that you had him whining as you spread your lips over the thick mushroom cap and sucked it into your mouth vigorously, causing him to moan and buck his hips up. You took the cue and drew him into your mouth, making him hit the back of your throat and gag.

“Holyyyyyy sssssshit. Stop. StopStopStopStop.”

Steve pulled you off his dick, which made you release him with a plop. He sat up and stared at you, disbelief in his eyes. 

“Did I do it wrong?”

“Did you do it wrong. Fuck, you almost made me…. C’mere.”

You giggled as you ended up with your back on the bed again, Steve eating you out, this time one finger inside you as you came. You were in shambles as he looked up at you and inserted another finger inside as his opposite thumb stroked your still-quivering clit.

“Gotta get you up to three. Hold on.”

You did, and when he crooked his fingers this time, you let out a wail that caused dogs to bark down the street.

After your fourth orgasm, Steve looked up, smiling ear to ear.

“Still want this dick?”

You scowled at him.

“If you don’t…”

He laughed as he kneeled between your legs, stroking the magnificent beast. You opened your legs even wider and stared down at it.

“No. look at me, look at me. You’re ready. I got you Baby.”

Steve supported himself with one arm as he got nearer to you and started swiping his head between your folds. You keened as he entered you.

“Ow. Steveeeee.”

Your face looked so adorable as you struggled to take him.

“Holy shit, you’re, fuck you’re so….”

Steve kissed you through your moan of shock and pleasure as he slid all the way home. You gripped his bicep, your fingernails leaving marks. Steve pecked your lips as you pounded together, waiting for you to get used to him.

“You ok? You good?”

Steve checked to make sure you were okay. You nodded at him with tears in your eyes.

“I- I- think it feels good. You’re so big, Steveee. But.. but I like it….”

You started moving, a little at first, and then more wantonly. Steve looked down to where you were impaled upon his dick.

“There’s nothing wrong with you. You are perfect. Just so.. Fucking… tiny…. But made for me…Shit.”

You felt Steve’s cock jumping inside you when he said those words, and you clasped your hands behind his back and uttered, “More!”

And that’s when you began to get fucked. Tenderly yet filthily. It was the best Steve had ever had, trying to be gentle and knowing that he wanted to put the bed under the ground. It was such a turn on. The ragged moans that you gave him with each stroke was a gift from god, and he started cumming before he could think.

“Shit! I didn’t use a condom…Fuck. But why does that just motivate me to keep going?” 

Steve laughed into your ear as he kept stroking for dear life. He was usually so careful, knowing that most women wanted his kid. But with you he didn’t care. You wrapped your legs around him, taking the pounding he was giving you now.

“Hmmmmmm. You want me to put a baby inside you? Pump you so full of cum that you get all round and full with my seed?”

“Hnnnnghhh. Steve… I…”

“Tell me. Do you want it? You want me to get you pregnant?”

“Ohhhh shitttttttt! Steeeveeeeee!”

You detonated around him and Steve cursed, finally pulling out and jacking hard onto your stomach as three fingers on the other hand continued to fuck you through your orgasm. His pearly spend looked beautiful on your skin.

“So gorgeous. There’s time for that yet, but we gotta get you to a doctor, because I don’t want to do this too many more times. And fucking you with condoms is no longer an option.”

You were fucked out, absentmindedly playing in his cum, causing him to spurt one last rope onto your fingers. When you brought them to your mouth was when he shivered. He collapsed beside you.

“I can’t even explain how good that was.”

You just smiled at him, lips shiny with gloss that he made.

“You are an angel. A Christmas angel.”

Steve sighed as you smiled at him. He got up and went to your bathroom to clean up and get a warm towel.

“I’m hungry.”

“Anything you want, Babe. I’ll get it for you.”

You grabbed the remote and  turned on the tv, catching the tail end of the news.

“Shootout in DUMBO tonight between the Rumlow and Valkyrie crime organizations. Several high-ranking officers dead or injured, including Brock Rumlow and James Bucky Barnes. More news when we have it.”

“Steve? Bucky? What’s going on? Valkyrie?”

Steve was up and grabbing for his clothes, an inscrutable look on his face.

“I didn’t want you to find out like this, but I gotta go.” 

He gave you a quick kiss. 

“Don’t leave. Sam will come back with some food for you and he will stay with you. Don’t open the store tomorrow.”

“But Steve!”

“No buts! I will call.”

And then Steve disappeared into the night, leaving you with so many questions.

Knock that reblog button off the block fa me. 😉

Read part two, All I Want.

[cheriladycl01]

Kinktober 23/10/2024 Alexander Albon - Bondage

Plot: Alex never showed his kinky side to you, but after finding some handcuffs you can’t help but question it.

Warnings: Kinktober, SMUT, bondage, tied up, fingering, blowjob, p in v etc 18+ Minors DNI

You and Alex had been dating for ages. You were 19 and he was 23 when you started dating. Now 5 years later and you were stronger than ever. You were freelance travel journalist and YouTuber and so travelling around the F1 calendar with your boyfriend and seeing all these cool new places was perfect for you relationship. There wasn’t a moment you and Alex were apart.

One aspect of your life you really enjoyed with Alex apart from all the travel was your sex life. It was very active and he was also so tentative and knew exactly what you wanted and when you wanted it. However sometimes you felt like he was holding something back.

You never questioned it until today when you found a pair of fluffy handcuffs in a shoe box under the bed. You’d never seen your sweet and goofy boyfriend have anything remotely naughty apart from the basics like condoms and those aren’t naughty that’s just being safe, but to see this was … interesting and you couldn’t help but wonder why he never told you.

“Hey babe” you grin as he comes in planting a kiss on the side of his cheek which he swivels so your lips end up on his making you grin more into the kiss.

“How was your day my gorgeous goblin?” He teases, it was a running joke that whenever you had a home day you became some sort of goblin, golem dupe where you’d just sort of rot.

“Mmmmm she’s very good, very chilled day. How is my handsome F1 driving, handcuff using, Williams racer boyfriend” you say as nonchalantly as possible, trying to stop yourself from laughing.

“Yeah he’s- wait, what did you say?” He freezes his brain catching up with the whole question.

“I asked how your day was?” You say cocking your head to the side, you deserved a Grammy for the confused look you were so naturally pulling right now with the laugher at bay.

“No no no you said handcuff using? How- how’d you know about that?” He asks his eyes wide.

“I may have found a pair under the bed. Why didn’t you tell me!!” You whine pushing his shoulder lightly in a jokingly annoyed way.

“Because we were fine the way we were … and it’s not like you’ve ever prompted about trying anything new!” He says throwing his hands up.

“I’m just a girl! Okay! Im shy” you say back and he looks at your with wide eyes, not in shock but in exasperation of how on Earth you turned this into a funny situation.

“Okay fine, test time now. Go on upstairs if you think your so funny missy” he tell you his finger pointing up to the bedroom. You head cocks to the side as if to test him to see if he really meant it.

“I’m not fucking about, upstairs … now” he says his voice gruffer than you ever heard it. You run up the stairs with a squeal him following closely behind you but not fast enough that he looked desperate.

Even thought it’s you … so he really was. All he could think about was sinking into you warm pussy.

You gently get on the bed, patting the shoe box that had his handcuffs in it. And he just chuckles.

“Surprised you didn’t dig deeper baby” he laughs going to the wardrobe and pulling a bigger box down from there that was well out of you reach and once he opened it you could tell why.

It look like 50 shades had threw up inside the box. There was so rope, gags, blindfolds more colourful handcuffs and other bondage devices you don’t think you’ve ever seen before.

It was a shock. You though the cheeky pair of handcuffs may have even been a sexy Halloween costume he’d done one year but no… this was the real Alex Albon.

And he was kinky as fuck.

This must have come around is his RedBull days surely…

He takes out and item which happened to be a blindfold and looks at you for permission to put it on. You nod, trusting Alex completely and he slips it on. He gently pushes you back so your head gently falls into the plush duck feather pillow on the bed that are now underneath your head.

Alex hands run up your legs. Pulling your skirt up a little while taking your underwear straight off. His fingers circle you clit before diving in thrusting in and out at a slow base. You could feel his knuckles graze against your walls sending jolts of pleasure down your spine.

Your hips thrust up to meet his fingers and get them as deep as possible. Your mouth open from the breathy gasps your leaving in your wake.

His fingers soon speed up and his other hand comes down to add extra stimulation by circling your clit with his thumb.

“Argh Alex. You moan, your hands reaching forward for him, but in an instant something clamps them down so they’re together in front of you.

He’d put the handcuffs on. You thought he may try handcuff you to the bed but handcuffing your wrists together while still in reach of his own was just bizarre.

As he speeds up his thumb on your clit adding a pressure that has a loud guttural moan come from you, you’re releasing all over his hands.

“Get up and Turn around baby, your gonna suck my cock with your hands tied okay?” He feels you and you nod. He sits down on the bed, helping you turn round and lean into him while kneeling on the floor. He doesn’t pull the blindfold off, he just lets you feel around with your mouth until you lick what you know is the tip of his cock as you can taste the pre-cum that’s leaking out.

He helps you out, holding your shoulder while your head moves in a sucking motion your cheeks hollow. He cant see your eyes but he knows with how deep your taking him that there will be tears building up in them.

He is quicker to release having been worked up since the minute the thought of you in his handcuffs became a possible scenario.

It was in his head, all while thinking off you wrapped in all his sexy and kinky toys.

His load is quick to shoot down the back of your throat, you struggling to swallow what he gave you due to the amount that has come out of him.

“Argh babe” he moans out as he thrusts his last dribbles into your mouth before pulling out. He removes the blindfold smiling at your bloodshot eyes and puffy red lips.

He helps you up onto the bed. Placing you back to the position you’d originally been in before he’s pulling out the soft sex rope and tying it around your wrists before it’s hauled onto the bedframe tightly holding you in place your arms stuck up in the air.

The cold air hits your exposed pussy making you shut you legs on instinct but Alex thigh comes down ti nudge them back open while he tightens the ropes around your arms.

It was so hot and sexy and you couldn’t believe there was this side to your boyfriend but there was and you were more than happy to experiment more with his after this now that you guys had got it all out on the open.

“I’d normally put the blindfold back on but I wanna see your face when you’re so fucked out you can’t even say my name” he says with a small smirk, one you’d never seen on your Alex before. This hunky guy above you wasn’t Alex Albon, this was Alexander Albon sex god and you were down bad.

“Alex” you gasp at the crudeness even though you were loving this side of him.

He pushed in hard and fast giving you no time to adjust before he’s slamming in and out with you. Your arms are already aching from being held up in the position that they are, but it’s a kind of ache that you enjoy. Makes you feel good and worn out.

His hands are all over your body that you can’t even think all you can do it feel, feel how amazing your boyfriend is making you feel right now.

You guys hold this incredibly intimate eye contact that makes you squirm and grip the rope that is slowly rubbing against your skin.

Marks for sure will be left on your wrist when they are taken off.

“A-Al-lex-x fuck I- I-” you moan looking up at him. He was insane and you needed to tell hime that but you didn’t have the words to tell him how much you loved him.

“I know baby, see told you you’d be fucked out” he grins kissing along your jaw as you continue to moan at the feeling of his quick thrusts making his fuck graze against your walls in a rapid fashion.

Fucked out, that you were.

And you loved it.

Taglist:

@littlebitchsposts @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @eiraethh @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount

[generational-atrophy]

Nice blog! You wouldn't mind if I took a little chomp out of it yeah? :D

Mmmmm can I request France,Germany,England, Prussia and Russia with an s/o who really likes there accent and voice. S/o would listen to them talk all day just to hear there voice/accent? There just mesmerized by it.

Much appreciated partner and have a great day🙏🙏���️‼️🔥🔥⁉️⁉️🪑🪑🪑🪑

(France, Germany, England, Prussia & Russia x Reader) S/O that loves their accent!

(Gender Neutral) Headcanons ~ A/N have fun eating my blog but beware. Theres poison sometimes :)

Trigger Warning: None, just fluff!

Oh, you do not need to tell him that. He knows. And he adores how obsessed you are with just his voice. Don’t worry, he won’t tease you too bad

But expect to be woken up a couple of times by him reading you love poems in French. Actually, he’s doing that all the time. Anytime that he can speak to you in French, he’s doing it.

“My beautiful language for a beautiful person, no?”

It’s also pretty obvious that he exaggerates his accent for you. Sure, he’s been speaking English for centuries, but you’d never guess that from how he talks to you. It’s a little childish, but he just can’t get enough of your face whenever he says anything even remotely romantic in that silky voice of his.

Whenever he catches you staring, he can’t do anything but grin, promising himself that he’ll spoil you sometime soon for being so cute.

Ludwig has never really liked his own voice that much, so at least someone does for him. He always complains it’s too harsh and too loud. And years of people judging him for his accent didn’t help that…

But he trusts you completely. If you say you want to hear him, he’ll talk as much as you want. But since you’re not giving him a prompt, you’re hearing about 1870s train logistics. He doesn’t make the rules.

He would try to be all affectionate and sweet like you want him to… but that is really not his forte. He tries! But you’ll just both end up blushing and stuttering and getting nothing done then. If it’s just his handsome accent you want though, you’re all good. He can make a manual on building an IKEA chair sound hot.

He’d rather hear YOU ramble than do so himself. Even if he does love how adorable you are when you’re so infatuated with him.

No surprise there. You’re not the first partner of his to love his voice, and you won’t be the last. Luckily that means he’s got a whole lot of experience, so he knows exactly what to say to melt your heart.

“Come on, Darling, don’t look at me like that.  Why don’t we get out of here, just me and you? How about that, Love?”

He’s not much for rambling, much less talking about himself, but he can absolutely fulfil your need for his voice elsewhere. A lot of your nights spent together will be him reading some ancient novel to you, his voice soothing as ever, until you inevitably fall asleep cuddled up next to him.

He must admit, he loves having that power over you. Being able to make you fall in love with him using nothing but his words? You’re just so cute, he can’t resist flustering you on purpose.

Well, of course you do! He’s spent centuries making sure he sounds hot as hell! But… you’re being serious right? You aren’t annoyed by how high-pitched he can get? Ok, thank god.

He is so excited once you tell him that. It’s hard to stop himself from immediately teasing you about it. After all, there isn’t a single sight that’s cuter to him than your pretty face all lost in love for him.

If you’re ever feeling down, he tries to distract you by simply telling you a long, overly complicated story from his past. Which, with those purple eyes fixed on you and a goofy smile plastered across his face, all the while his voice drips with accent, it’s hard to not get distracted.

He loves talking about himself anyway. It’s a good thing you like hearing him. Most people don’t. But that’s just what makes you two meant to be <3

Oh, you like his voice? He’s confused. You’re being serious? … why?

The poor guy is really insecure about his voice. He worries his accent is too strong, too ugly, and his voice is way too high-pitched. It seems like no one likes when he talks… they say he’s rude and weird. So… your adoration for him and how he speaks is a real shock.

Whenever you ask him to talk more, he gets all embarrassed and doesn’t know what to say! Especially if you compliment his accent, then he just freezes up and dismisses you. Anywhere you are, he’ll start talking all quietly and cover his face with his hands. But you can still see him blushing underneath them…

But once he’s used to it, he loves just narrating the things he’s doing. Sometimes you’ll wake up and come downstairs to see him coming up with some silly song about the breakfast he’s cooking you. Learning that you like hearing him has definitely made him include stuff like that in his daily routine. 

Plus, now when he wants a reaction out of you… he’ll lean into it. Rolling his r’s dramatically, whispering to you in Russian… when he wants to be, he’s quite a tease.

[rowaelinsdaughter]

imagine lorcan x reader, where she touches his arms and chest and blushes and says wow have you been working out extra, you feel much bigger, suggestive pls, literally would boost his ego through the roof, like he’d flex his biceps while she’s squeezing them and then she’d giggle SHE IS SO REALLLL

author note: hope you dont mind that ive made this a headcanon, but I have tried to put everything you asked for, I hope you enjoy it

𝕻𝖗𝖆𝖎𝖘𝖊 (𝕷𝖔𝖗𝖈𝖆𝖓 𝖝 𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗 𝕳𝕮)

WARNING: praise kink, suggestive (?)

Lorcan is 500 years old, so he is well built.

Tall, quite tall, and muscles all over his body.

Who wouldn't be touching it all the time?

At first Lorcan did not care so much about his physical appearance, in the sense that he had muscles but only for his work.

That changed when you arrived.

At the beginning of the relationship, Lorcan imposed himself on you, who wouldn't? He had been trained to kill, to serve. His aura emanated violence.

As time went by, you gained more confidence and learned that beneath that aura, of his powers blessed by Hellas... There was a person who needed love and affection.

It was by chance, but you discovered that he had a praise kink.

From then on, you praised him whenever you could.

That day you were having dinner with the Cadre, in one of your favorite restaurants.

The Cadre had been away for two weeks… two weeks in which you had not seen your mate.

Sitting next to him, you appreciated his arms and swore they had grown. You gave him a once over and he had grown, not in height, but in muscle.

You're touchy all night.

You caress his arm with your nails and Lorcan tenses next to you.

Fenrys and Rowan are the only ones who notice that Lorcan has become tense and all because of your attentions, of course they are the ones who notice.

“Mmmmm, my handsome mate, so big and buff just for me”, “So strong, just so you can protect me from the bad guys”

Lorcan feels like his heart is going to burst.

And not just because of your comments.

You spends the entire dinner one hand on his arm, on his leg, caressing his forearm, touching his biceps...

“Do you like me telling you how strong you are, Lorcan?”, "So good to me, making me feel good with your hands"

You know perfectly well the effects those comments have on him.

So it's no wonder that night he makes you say those comments while making you feel good the way he knows you like.

Praise kink 100%.

𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒔 𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒗𝒆𝒅 ©𝒓𝒐𝒘𝒂𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒔𝒅𝒂𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒆𝒓. 𝒅𝒐 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒑𝒚 / 𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒂𝒍 𝒎𝒚 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒌. 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒑𝒚 𝒎𝒚 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆.

[rinstaro]

I want big daddy fierces face between my legs<33

mmmmm gentleman tongue fucking me till I cry

Yummy.

-💫

oh bestie same !!!!! tmi but its been like,,,,,,,, a week and a half since i got my coochie ate !!!! THATS TOO LONG !!!!!!!!!!!

i feel like fierce would be sooooooooo good at it <33 i make the rules and it’s completely true

cw: mostly just thirsting 😵‍💫 coochie eating obvi, overstim but u tell him to this time!!! he's just,,,,,, meow, reader has a vagina no pronouns!! short and sweet cause i’m getting back into The Groove Of Writing

minors do not interact.

you didn’t have to beg him, just a ‘please’ would suffice. he’d do anything you asked of him. so why were you so needy? well, it was simple in your eyes. your boyfriend is fine as fuck.

he didn’t even have to do anything and you were drooling over him. he was tall, strong, and unbearably handsome. though, those weren’t his strongest points.

no, your favorite thing about him is how gently he treated you. his touches were delicate as if he was scared you’d shatter beneath him. when he held you, he’d repeatedly ask if it was okay, if he was hurting you in any way. your absolute favorite was the way he spoke to you and only you, that special tone of voice he had reserved just for his darling.

fierce held strength beyond comprehension, and wouldn’t dare hurt a hair on your head. of course, unless you asked.

“i want it til i cry. pretty please?”

“you shouldn’t even have to ask. come here, beloved.”

oh, and it was easy to get him between your legs. it was his second favorite place, only coming second to being in your arms. though having your hands in his hair was more than fine, for now.

he adored how you sounded when he had his tongue in your cunt. sweet little cries of his name, telling him how good it felt. his hands rested at your waist, helping you grind into his mouth as he tongue fucked you. you were drooling, tears threatening to spill out of your eyes. “f-fuh— oh my— more! please!”

he groaned softly. your pussy tasted like heaven to him, and you were letting him eat it for as long as he wanted. it sounded lewd, your moans mixed with the sounds of him devouring your cunt, but it didn’t embarrass you much when you were on your third orgasm and still begging for more.

your lover doesn’t care how much you tug and pull, boss him around and tell him to go faster. you asked him to give it to you til you cried, and his desire to serve you came before everything else. even his own… needs. little did he know, you had planned to return the favor later on.

fierce lets you card your fingers through his hair, pull his hair, grind onto his tongue, all of it. all he asks is that you don’t hold back when you cum. he wants it all over his face, all over the sheets— yeah. because to him, nothing beats the feeling of your creamy cum dripping down his chin.

[floyds-favorite-shrimp]

That's No Fun At All

Floyd Leech x Fem!Yuu

Word Count: 2252

Fluffy! Some super mild angst.\

More under cut!

“I’m sure that doing this will increase profits significantly.”

“Yes, I see what you mean.  And if we can apply this method to the kitchen staff, efficiency would skyrocket as well.” 

“Mmmmm.” Floyd moaned, his hands on Jade’s shoulders as he used his twin brother to prop himself up on his tip-toes. His mis-matched eyes scanned their surroundings. There were plenty of students out in the courtyard, but not the one he was specifically looking for. “Mmmmrrrrrghhhhh.” He whined, looking for a specific head of dark hair. 

“Floyd, is there something we can help you with?” Azul asked, as Jade simply smiled at his brother’s antics. “Would you care to share your opinion on our new business plan?” Azul pushed his glasses up a bit farther on his nose. 

“Where’s Shrimpyyyyyyyyyy?” Floyd asked no one in particular, continuing to use his height to scan the crowd.

“I’m afraid my brother has taken quite the liking to that prefect of Ramshackle dorm.” Jade said, while Floyd completely ignored the two of them. 

“That girl from another world?” Azul questioned, crossing his arms over his chest. His gray eyes scanned their surroundings, as if he’d be able to see something his two tall minions could not. “She seems rather plain to me.” He muttered, a slight hint of interest in his voice. After all, Floyd never put up with anything boring. If he was interested in her, there had to be a reason. If Azul could figure it out, perhaps there was a way for him to exploit it..

“No.” Came an unusually stern voice. Azul started slightly, looking up into Floyd’s gaze. A frown creased his features. “I know what you’re thinking, and she’s my toy. You can’t steal her.” He huffed.

Azul sighed. “Well, that’s more like you.” He muttered, but Floyd was already back to scouting the grounds. Azul and Jade made eye contact. Jade grinned as Azul simply shook his head. How long would this interest last? When would he get bored now?

“IT’S SHRIMPY!” Floyd suddenly screeched, taking off away from the other two. His long legs carried him across the courtyard in essentially no time at all. 

“Shrimpy! Shrimpy, Shrimpy, Shrimpy!” Floyd chanted as he crossed the way. Yuu looked up as she heard her nickname, smiling slightly at the genuine grin on Floyd’s face. It reminded her of a puppy. His sharp teeth were on full display as he slowed to a stop in front of her. 

Yuu looked up into his handsome face. His eyes were focused solely on her. There was something about the way she looked at him that intrigued him. He walked behind her, flinging his arms over her shoulders as he hung over her.

“Shrimpyyyy. We’re gonna go do something fun, right?” He asked her, his breath tickling her neck as he spoke. 

“Sure, but you have to wait until my classes are over.” She promised him, doing her best to ignore the tickling sensation that ran across her skin when he spoke. He sighed, causing a shiver to run down her spine. 

“But I don’t wanna wait.” He pouted. Yuu could imagine the sad eyes he was giving her, even if she couldn’t see them. “You only have one more class, right? Just skip it and hang out with me! No one cares about Magical History anyway.” 

“I have to try to keep my grades up.” Yuu told him, readjusting her position as best as she could with his weight on her. “And I’m pretty sure you have a class left today too.” 

“I don’t care about them.” Floyd said, standing up again so Yuu could turn to face him. “My grades are good enough, so skipping a class or two won’t hurt.” He crossed his arms over his chest.

“Well lucky you.” Yuu said, puffing up her cheeks. “My grades are not good. I have no idea about anything in this world. Even the math works differently.” She complained. Her smile vanished as her eyes moved to look down at the ground.

And Floyd didn’t like it. He didn’t like it one bit. He reached out, pinching both of her cheeks and causing her to look up at him with wide eyes. He tugged her soft cheeks upwards, in a twisted version of a smile.

“Vat ah oo doin” Yuu tried to say. She couldn’t tell if the look on his face was one of sadness or of annoyance. Maybe it was both.

“I don’t like it when my Shrimpy frowns.” He said. “That’s no fun at all.” He gave her cheeks another pinch before finally letting go. Yuu put a small smile back on her face, finding his clumsy concern endearing. 

“No fun?” Came another voice. Yuu and Floyd turned in the direction that it came from to see Jade and Azul walking towards them. “Is she no fun already? I knew you’d get bored eventually. Maybe now you can get back to work.” He shrugged, looking bored. Floyd furrowed his brows at his friend’s words. Bored? Of Shrimpy? He could never be bored of her. 

“Bored?” Yuu asked, staring at Azul. She knew that Floyd got bored easily. He was open about the fact that he liked constant entertainment. But for some reason, it had never occurred to her that he would be bored of her. Was that true? Was it too late to save their friendship? Maybe if she left him alone for a while, he wouldn’t be so bored of her. 

Floyd looked down at her as she bit her lip. It was clear that something Azul said didn’t sit right with her, and it was obvious to Floyd what it was. It seemed so silly to him. Shrimpy was one of the only people who always kept his attention, even when they weren’t doing anything. Any other time he’d normally be bored, he was always satisfied if she was there. He opened his mouth to tell Azul that he was wrong, but he never got the words out.

“Right, well,” Yuu said, her voice now uncharacteristically quiet. “I should get to class. I’ll see you guys later.” She waved half-heartedly, her long hair flowing as she turned on her heel and started to walk away. Floyd frowned after her, her shoulders were hunched over as she continued on her way.

“Azuuulllll.” Floyd whined, bending down to look Azul in the eye, his hands on his hips. “Why’d you have to scare her away?” He had his lips pressed into a thin line, his eyes taking on a more menacing look. 

“Haven’t you been associating with her every day?” Azul questioned, subconsciously taking a step closer to Jade. “I thought it safe to assume you were bored with her.” 

“I think you did it on purpose. So I’d focus more on the stupid Mostro Lounge.” Floyd said cooly, staring down his nose at Azul. “Y’know, if you want my attention so badly, I’m happy to give you a good squeeze.”

“That won’t be necessary.” Azul said nervously, grimacing as he remembered the last time he had pissed Floyd off and gotten squeezed. “I assure you that wasn’t my intention.” He said, waving his hand and hoping Floyd didn’t sense the lie. He sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose, partially out of annoyance and partially out of anxiety. “Just go find her after class and tell her, oh I don’t know, that you still find her entertaining?” Azul suggested in an attempt to keep Floyd’s temper at bay. 

“Perhaps don’t phrase it like that.” Jade suggested, his signature grin having not left his face during the entire conversation. 

“Hm.” Floyd hummed as he studied Azul with his icy gaze. “I guess since it’s your fault Shrimpy is mad at me, then you won’t complain if I don’t show up to work until she likes me again.” He huffed. He didn’t wait for Azul’s reply before he turned on his heel and started to walk away. 

“Well she’s in class, so you might as well go to your next class too!” Azul shouted after him. After all, as housewarden, if Floyd’s grades dropped, Azul would hear about it. Floyd ignored him as he continued to walk away.

“You put him in a bad mood.” Jade sighed. “I was quite serious when I said he has taken a liking to her. Enough so that this may be an awakening for him.”

“Great.” Azul muttered. “Now I have to budget to hire someone to pick up his slack.”

“Where. Is. Shrimpy.” Floyd asked himself as he walked through campus. It had been a few days since she left him, Jade and Azul standing in the courtyard and he hadn’t even caught so much as a glimpse of her since then. He grumbled to himself as he took long strides towards Ramshackle dorms. After all, desperate times call for desperate measures.

“I’ll have to give her an extra hard squeeze.” Floyd said. “Since she’s being so mean. Why haven’t I seen her anywhere? Shrimpy thinks she can get away with avoidin’ me.” He reached the front door to Ramshackle, pounding his fist on it. No one answered, but that wasn’t going to stop Floyd. Not today. He had been patient enough. He had waited long enough. 

Floyd grabbed the door handle, giving it a slight turn and the door to Ramshackle creaked open. He honestly doubted it even locked in the first place. Crowley didn’t seem to worry too much about her safety. 

Floyd walked into the common area of Ramshackle. The dorm was eerily quiet as the floors creaked and groaned as Floyd took each step. He sat down on the old couch, sinking into the unsupportive cushions. He took out his phone, looking through the texts that he had sent over the last few days, the majority of them to Yuu, and they remained unanswered. Floyd began to impatiently bounce his leg. 

It felt like forever, but eventually Floyd heard the front door open. He quickly wiggled his way out of the couch and stood next to the doorway that led into the common area. He made sure he was out of sight from anyone in the entryway and waited, ready to pounce. He could tell where she was since every floorboard in the house screamed under pressure. He could hear her getting closer and closer, and as she appeared through the doorway, He opened his arms wide, Yuu only seeing the movement from the corner of her eye before she was swept up in his arms, pressed so tightly against him that she could hear his heart as her head pressed against his chest. It took Yuu a moment to realize what she was pressed up against.

“Floyd?!” She questioned, trying to shift just enough to look at him, but the more she moved the harder he squeezed. “You’re crushing my ribs, please loosen up a little.” Yuu said, her voice strained. However, Floyd refused to loosen up at all.

“After you’ve been avoiding me for so long? I ain’t about to let you go, Shrimpy.” He said, his long arms had created an unbreakable obstacle. 

He felt the tension leave Yuu’s body. His arms loosened only slightly in response.

“Can you at least let go just enough for me to look at you?” She asked him. He hesitated for a moment, but eventually relented and loosed his arms enough for her to pull away a few inches, but contrary to her words she did not look up. She continued to rest her head on his chest.

And now that she was doing it voluntarily, Floyd suddenly didn’t know how to react. This was the first time that he could remember where squeezing wouldn’t solve his problems. He kept his arms around her shoulders, and felt her take a deep breath.

“Uh, Shrimpy?” Floyd questioned. 

“Well now that I have to say it all out loud, it’s embarrassing.” Yuu mumbled, trying to bury her face even farther into his jacket. Floyd sighed.

“Don’t tell me you were actually dumb enough to listen to Azul.” He said, rolling his eyes even though she couldn’t see it. She muttered something incoherent, but Floyd knew that it was a yes. “That takoyaki doesn’t know what he’s talking about. My Shrimpy is the only one who can keep me on my toes.”

Yuu finally looked up at him, the only reason their noses didn’t brush was because of the height difference between them. 

“And I pride myself on being able to keep my Shrimpy on her toes too.” He muttered quietly, gripping her chin lightly. “You better never listen to Azul again. I don’t wanna go that long without my-” Floyd cut himself off, rethinking his choice of words. “Without you.” He said hoarsely. 

Yuu’s bottom lip stuck out in a small pout, and Floyd’s gaze was drawn to it. He slowly leaned in, dropping his arms from her shoulders to her waist, giving her the room to lean back and avoid him, if that’s what she wanted to do.

But he really hoped that wasn’t what she wanted to do. As he drew closer, he watched as her eyes widened, and then fluttered shut, and he closed his own eyes as he gently pressed his lips against hers, cupping the back of her head as their lips moved together. He was careful to keep his sharp teeth in check. After all, she wasn’t ready for those.

Not Yet.

[twistedtummies2]

Cephalo-Pudge (Post-Vore/Weight Gain; Commission)

This was an interesting experiment. This commission was ordered by @burpsbelliesgalore. They wanted a post-vore story, focusing on Azul keeping  a certain as sentient fat for a whole day, and moving their soul about from one part of his body to another. I thought the idea was appealing and sort of funny, so I decided to give it a try. It was fun to do something a bit new, though I’m not entirely sure when/if I’ll write something quite like this again. We’ll see. :) WARNING: CONTAINS POST-VORE GOODNESS, SPECIFICALLY INCLUDING SENTIENT FAT, WEIGHT GAIN, VERY MILD DIGESTION, AND A FEW BELCHES. ALSO FEATURES IMPLIED REFORMATION, IMPLIED MACRO/MICRO SHENANIGANS, AND IMPLIED STUFFING. YEAH, LOTS OF IMPLICATIONS. :p ANYWAY, DON’T LIKE? TOO YOUNG? DON’T READ!

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GLLLRRRLLLG… Azul Ashengrotto hiccuped and groaned softly in his sleep. His sea blue eyes opened, blearily glancing about briefly at his darkened and most luxurious dorm room. His glasses sat perched upon his nightstand. It was a cool and quiet night in Octavinelle; the bioluminescent lifeforms and the moonlight that shimmered through the ocean water outside his window provided the only illumination the room had. The housewarden’s head rolled in his soft, satiny pillow; a very mild frown fell across his handsome, pale face as he noticed the time on the clock on his wall. The frown softened slightly as he turned his head the other way, and saw the white jacket and telltale sash that indicated how recently he had celebrated his birthday. It was hard to feel too upset with that in mind; it had been a good day, after all. While he really could have stood to NOT get a pie in the face at the Union building, he understood it was tradition for the school; and besides, with Jamil as his selected interviewer, he’d had little to complain about there. And, after all, that had only been the beginning of the…benefits the day had yielded. BRRRLLLRRRB…! A louder rumble drew Azul’s attention to his middle. A soft, sleepy smile now played across his face, his beauty mark quirking upwards as a puff of amusement left his perfect nose. The octo-boy in disguise was laying on his bed, topless, his bottom half clad in nothing but a loose-fitting pair of black and violet pajama bottoms. One might have been surprised to see him topless, presently uncovered by his blankets, given the cool temperature…but Azul found resting this way soothing. Especially on a full stomach. And Azul had a VERY full stomach that night. While one of his arms was laying limp upon the covered mattress, the other rose up, allowing one of his well-manicured hands to rest upon his belly. The mafioso-styled dorm leader’s abdomen was noticeably swollen, his gut round as if he had swallowed a decent-sized melon all in one gulp. It was the gurgling and churning of his stomach that had awakened Ashengrotto. He hummed softly, craning his neck to gaze upon his full stomach with a sort of contemplative expression. The young head of Octavinelle pressed upon his gut; it made a thick, mucky “slushing” sound. He could feel the soft, goopy mush that the meal he’d ingested had become… “Mmmmm…I’m probably going to regret all these calories in the morning,” he mumbled, but it was hard for him to sound too miffed. A little shiver went through him as a squealing sort of squelching came from his gut. His eyes fluttered closed as he lay his head back again, then he gripped his fingers into his sagging stomach more firmly. “Oooooh…at the moment, I’m…not feeling especially bothered, however…” Just then, a different sensation inside his stomach made Azul’s eyes open wide again. He craned his head upwards once more to look at his belly. It jolted slightly to one side, then the other; a muffled sound could be heard, almost muted by the busy churning of his stomach. Azul blinked twice…then his smile shifted, becoming his trademark sly, supercilious smirk. “Awww…is my little angelfish still solid in there?” he cooed, and cupped the underside of his belly possessively with one hand. “I have to admit, I’m a little surprised. Not disappointed. But surprised.” He let his head rest back on the pillow. Your squirms continued to nudge against the lining of his stomach; Azul sighed happily, stroking and caressing his belly as you wriggled about inside of him. “You shouldn’t be feeling any pain, thanks to that spell I used,” he mumbled. “Which means you’re either moving because you want to…” One finger began to trace circles around his navel. “...Or because you know I love the feeling,” he sighed out blissfully. “Either way…I’m going to presume that means you’re enjoying yourself in there.”

WHURLMPH. Azul’s smile vanished and he grimaced as a particularly harsh nudge to his stomach walls disrupted a pocket of gas. He lifted a fist to his, his cheeks ballooning as he repressed a deep, rumbling belch, blowing the excess gas free and fanning the air before his face subtly. “BRRRLLLMMMRRRP…phoosh! Ugh…so uncivilized,” Ashengrotto mumbled, and gave a sort of petulant glance towards his stomach. “You’re more wicked than most people give you credit for: first making me that…absolutely IMMENSE birthday dinner, then deciding you’re going to not only risk making me fat, but also give me gas?” He slapped his stomach; it jiggled. “Naughty,” he scolded. Another muffled noise - perhaps you firing back with some snarky comment - came from Azul’s stomach. He smirked at the garbled sound, a sinister gleam in his eye. Just because you wouldn’t feel pain didn’t mean you would stay solid. After all, that had been part of the contract. “Just remember, my angelfish,” he cooed, running his fingers across the middle of his belly. “Starting first thing in the morning, you’ll be spending the next 24 hours as a part of me. I hope you’re looking forward to it…” He yawned and allowed his eyes to close once more. “...I know I am…I just hope all that food doesn’t leave TOO big an impact on my body…” With this final, tired mumbled, Azul rolled onto his side in his bed. His gut GLORSHED noisily as gravity shifted; your tiny, steadily-softening body slogged with the rest of the sludge - a mixture of ice cream, cake, and various deep fried foods - with the change of direction. A muffled moaning sound came from you as you sloshed around in the simmering stew. Outside. Azul let out a soft, low burp in his sleep, already drifting back into dreamland. As he rested, one hand continued to rest and occasionally scratch at his stomach. His slumbering expression was one of deepest, most joyous satisfaction. He’d had a birthday to remember…and the next day was going to be just as memorable. Although, perhaps, for different reasons…

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“Under the Sea! Under the Sea! Darling, it’s better down where it’s wetter, take it from-!” A growl accompanied Azul’s hand slapping over his cell phone and silencing the alarm he had set to wake him up. “I do so LOATHE that song,” he grumbled…but he supposed he couldn’t blame anyone but himself. After all, he’s the one who chose the ringtone. His logic had been that picking something that would annoy him would urge him to awaken faster…logic that, to its credit, DID work…perhaps too well…but that was all another story. Azul yawned and sat up in his bed; a light groan left him as he smoothed some of his pale gray hair out of his face. He scrubbed at his eyes and started to stand up from his bed… …Then paused. His groggy, bleary optics widened, a jolt of alertness shooting through his body. He felt…heavier. As if some sort of weight was hanging from his body, around his waist and his hips. If one has ever experienced gaining any great degree of weight, then one would know that the sensation is gradual. One typically doesn’t NOTICE they are getting heavier or larger, because the weight accumulates over an elongated period of time. But imagine if one suddenly gained a large amount of weight literally overnight. Then they would have known how Azul felt. Azul cursed under his breath and groaned louder than before, hauling himself up and stumbling towards the built-in bathroom of his dorm suite. He splashed water across his face grouchily; he’d known he would regret the feast he’d had the night before - his little angelfish included in the mix - but he hadn’t expected to regret it THIS immediately. Sighing agitatedly, Azul dabbed at his face with a towel and briefly glanced into his bathroom mirror. He could only really see his upper half in the glass’ reflection, and that alone was already enough to concern him…but without his glasses, it was hard to see just HOW bad the damage really was. The octo-boy in disguise stomped back into the main bedroom of his dorm quarters, and scooped up his spectacles from the nightstand. He thankfully had a second mirror in his room, directly beneath his clock. This one was a full-size looking-glass. Azul stepped in front of the mirror…blinked…then scowled. “Damn it to Hades,” he muttered, and a slight blush seemed to paint his cheeks. “I knew I…I shouldn’t have had so much of the cake…” Azul almost seemed to wince as his hands explored his bare belly. While he could sense that his stomach was now empty, his gut was actually not much smaller than it had been when he’d been awakened the night before. The difference was that instead of being swollen with digesting slurry from the inside, the softness, warmth, and roundness were all the result of a large amount of pudge that had gathered around his middle. His once lean but slightly curvy figure had become noticeably plumper, a doughy paunch now pooching over the low-set waistband of his pajama bottoms. It really wasn’t much, just a slight bit more belly…but the way Azul grimaced as he gripped the building love handles on the sides indicated it was more than enough to bother him. It didn’t get any better when Azul turned himself about in his mirror; an anxious look came into his eyes, his blush intensifying as he felt his heart beat in a flustered, frustrated way. His aforementioned pajama bottoms hugged his hips VERY tightly; Azul placed his hands upon them and pulled them away to see just how wide they had gotten. The difference from before he’d clocked out into a food coma the evening before to now was uncomfortable to him. Then there was his backside. Azul wasn’t sure he could blush any more fiercely, but it seemed that he was learning he had more blood to pump into his own face than he realized. His embarrassment was as plain as the cleft between his cheeks, as - even with the loose-fitting pajama pants - he could tell that a great deal of the weight had gone to his thighs and his rump. They were much, MUCH thicker than they had been the night before. Even through the black-and-purple fibers, Azul’s fingers could feel an ample “squishiness” to his rear end that hadn’t been so obvious before. “Damn,” he said again, running his hands along the curve of his butt, flushed with embarrassment and a hint of nerves. “I hope I can fit into my uniform pants still…urgh, I can already guess the sorts of things Floyd and Jade will say…” If it’s any consolation, I think you look better this way. Azul nearly jumped as he heard a voice seemingly in his own head. He blinked, then redirected his attention to his stomach. He placed both hands upon the mildly portly abdomen he now sported, as if to keep it steady. “Angelfish?” he whispered. Then he spoke a bit louder. “Prefect? Is that you?” Your own voice responded to him. Well, I’m not your conscience. Azul smirked almost despite himself. One hand adjusted his glasses as the other tenderly stroked his belly with his fingertips. “Good to know that your…transformation has not hindered your sense of humor,” he teased. You shivered, despite the endless, bountiful warmth that surrounded you. Azul smirked a bit wider as he could actually feel the slightest, almost imagined tremor of his plumpened underbelly. Good to know that gaining a bit of weight hasn’t ruined yours, your consciousness responded. Azul frowned anew, his hand still petting his belly as he looked back into the reflection and sighed. “Vargas is going to be an absolute pain today, I can already feel it,” he almost whined. I’d apologize, but I’d have to feel sorry first. Azul glared down at his gut and gave it a slap. A squeak left your mind - for you could not REALLY speak, only…think in conversation, if such a phrase could be imagined. “You knew this would happen, didn’t you?” Azul pouted. I have been told I’m VERY fattening, even when shrunken down, your mind responded; you weren’t sure how you could hyperventilate when you had no lungs, but that was the best sensation to describe your own flustered feelings. You…you m-might not want to…to “punish” me like that, I…w-wow, this feels good… “I’m glad one of us is having a good time,” muttered Azul. Then he smirked anew. “I hope you realize your contract is…” He bit his lip as he kneaded into his belly fat; he had to admit, that felt…pretty good… “...Binding,” he almost growled, then his voice returned to its usual velvety, silky smoothness. “Until the exact same hour you lost consciousness inside my stomach last night, you belong to my body. I can make this experience beautiful for you…” He gave his gut a slight jiggling shake; a slightly sadistic, self-satisfied expression crossed his smirking face. “...Or I can make it torture,” he breathed out, dangerously. I’m not sure they’re not the same thing, you loopily managed to think-say in reply. Azul chuckled through his nose and shook his head, raising one eyebrow, the slight drop of cruelty in his face giving way to affectionate amusement. He’d known for a long time about your “kinks,” the fantasies inside your head. Sometime ago, he’d given you a chance to act them out by becoming part of his rump for a time. For his birthday, you had offered him a chance to feel that sensation again, for having your sentient ego as part of his body, after turning your own form into nutrients and lipid-layering, was as gorgeous to him as it was heavenly to you. It was a selfish sort of gift, but you hoped the excellent meal you’d made would make up for it. Even now, Azul was questioning if the birthday bargain you’d made with him had been for his benefit or your own, primarily. “You must be very proud of yourself right about now,” he said, and turned to face his mirror, allowing your mind’s eye to see through his own optics. You could not only feel the warm, soft hand caressing the tummy pudge your entire existence had been reduced to, but you could see the way his palm and fingers moved across the patch of padding you’d been turned into. I…I am…ohhhh, that’s…that’s s-so good…please don’t stop… Azul rolled his eyes. “You seem to think I’m obligated to do things for your benefit,” he purred…then gave his belly a pat, his smile fading as he sighed softly and turned on his heel, marching towards his wardrobe. “Well, unfortunately for you, I’m not nearly as pleased with these gains as you are. And as soon as I get you OFF my body, I’m going to work very hard to work the pounds off, too.” Spoilsport. Azul glared half-heartedly and gave his belly a squeezing knead. He waited till he sensed your ego squealing before giving a vengeful sort of smile. A shiver went through him; he was blushing again, but this time for different reasons. His toes curled against the floor. He had to give humanoid bodies that credit: curling one’s tentacles didn’t have quite the same feeling or effect. Shaking his head to clear it, and letting out a shaky breath, Azul grabbed his school uniform from his wardrobe, and began to get dressed. Even if you’d been allowed to see the world from a “belly’s eye view,” you wouldn’t have been able to see much, as his shirt soon shrouded your “vision.” Being sentient fat was…difficult to describe. You could feel the belly around you; you could sense everything, but you could not move or speak of your own volition. You could think. You could do emotions. But actual motor functions and nearly all other senses of…well…sense were out the window. You were surrounded by warmth; like you were wrapped up in a dozen blankets. It wasn’t uncomfortable, however; it was as if you had been in an Arctic tundra and had just come into a scene from a Rockwell painting. (You wondered if anybody in this world knew what those were.) You could feel yourself sway; you could feel Azul’s hand touch you, feel the way his body shifted around you. You could sense his heartbeat, and dimly detect the smell of the stomach you’d spent so much time in. You probably should have been deeply disturbed, freaked out, or some other negative status…but instead, you felt…happy. You could feel a sense of pride and even a sense of strange contentment. Your fantasies, in this world, could easily be realities…and you felt safe inside of Azul’s body. Your soul nestled into the bountiful beauty of his belly, ready to strap itself in for the long haul… Azul was more or less unaware of all these musings on your part. After all, he had more important things to worry about than his own belly fat. Foremost of the bunch was getting dressed. He scowled and sneered, grunting as he fitted the buttons of his shirt and vest over his rounded midsection. The buttons of his blazer refused to reclasp, so - with a sigh of defeat - he simply let his jacket hang open, self-consciously squirming as he noted the way his belly pressed firmly against the insides of his buttoned-up top clothes. Next came changing into his trousers. At first, things went smoothly, and Azul began to feel a bit more cheerful…but that changed when it felt like his pants hit the blubbery equivalent of a brick wall upon meeting his rear. He grunted a few times before finally managing to shimmy his pants upward, hiking them over the wobbling tush-globes and grumbling as he fiddled with the fastener and the zipper. Finally, once it was done, he lashed his belt around his pants…mostly to make sure they wouldn’t burst open again. “Why do these things always go to my lower areas?” he groused, and sighed before fastidiously brushing himself off. He took a few deep breaths as he slipped his gloves onto his hands. He had to keep his cool. It was just one day, keeping all this weight…well, that was a lie. He’d have to deal with this for a while until he worked it all off. He glared again, eyes hard and sharp as shards of blue bottle glass. “As soon as I let you out of me,” he addressed your soul, softly squeezed in the hammock of his belly, “We are having a talk about the effect YOUR prurient desires have on my body.” I wouldn’t have it any other way, your soul replied, in a sleepy sort of way, indicating you were probably thinking of them in a way quite different from Azul’s. Ashengrotto snorted and rolled his eyes, then - adjusting his tie - he began to walk out of the room. He flinched as he heard the fabric of his trousers creak around his buttocks. He silently made a note to try not to bend over at any point if he could manage it: he was quite sure a little too much pressure in the wrong direction would case his pants to pop apart at the seams. “It’s going to be quite a long day,” he mumbled. Even as he spoke though, he couldn’t keep his hands off his own belly. Once he noticed, he flushed and hurriedly stuffed them into his pockets, eyes resolutely looking at anything but his gut as he stalked through the halls of Octavinelle, trying to stay focused on his schedule. He refused to admit how GOOD it felt to just…hold his own belly…especially knowing his precious Prefect was packed inside.

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The scratching of the pen on parchment was rough and coarse. It matched Azul’s cross mood as he sat ill-temperedly in Mozus Trein’s classroom, hastily taking notes from the Professor’s lecture. The old man was giving a long-winded sermon on the history of the dark and fabled art of necromancy…a subject that Azul would have found more fascinating if he weren’t in a state of molar-grating annoyance. All morning so far, before and after classes, he’d been dealing with people pointing out his abruptly added pounds. Floyd had laughed for what seemed like hours when Azul walked into the Mostro Lounge to give his orders for the day (the twins had the day off from classes). His eyes had sparkled with joy as he had invaded Azul’s space to poke and prod at his sides and his belly, making playful little “boop-boop” noises as he did so. “Awwww, chubby baby Azuuuuul! He’s baaaack!” sang out Floyd with an absolutely giddy grin. “Can I squeeze ya? Huh? Can I? Your tummy looks soooo squishable, like a big stress ball!” Azul had spluttered and swatted him away with many a flustered sound. Jade, naturally, had been no help at all. He’d chuckled through his nose, one finger to his chin, eyes gleaming with devilish amusement. His smile showed the slightest hint of his pointed teeth. “I must say, you’re looking…appetizingly healthy today,” he had teased, gently. “I suppose the Prefect made for an excellent dessert to their clearly nourishing dinner, hmmm?” Of course Azul had told the eel-men about the deal he’d made with you: after all, you were his significant other, and so your business was his, and his business was usually theirs. You wondered if Azul could feel the way you blushed at the note of how much you and the food you’d made for him had filled out his adipose tissue…just as you wondered if the rush of intensifying warmth you felt briefly was because he was blushing at Jade’s words. The Leech Twins had been just the beginning. You’d felt Azul’s belly bounce and wobble around you as he walked through the halls of Night Raven College. You could hear the voices of students around you, and nearly all of them had something to say about Azul’s overnight gains… “Shishishishi! Looks like I’ve got some competition as Chief Greedy Gut on campus, huh, Azul?” teased Ruggie Bucchi, giving a poke right to Azul’s navel, which wobbled above you. “Hey, did you swallow a bowling ball for your birthday?” laughed Ace Trappola. “Wow, Azul! You must have had a REALLY nice dinner last night!” cheered Kalim Al-Asim. “Hey, how come I wasn’t invited to the party?” Vil Schoenheit had simply turned up his nose with a scoff, while Rook blushed bright red and muttered some rather randy words in French. Azul had yet to see either of the Shroud brothers, but he imagined - with the way those two spent their days - by now they were probably snickering to each other about the situation sight unseen. One response had been legitimately mortifying, and that was the redoubtable Malleus Draconia himself. On his way to Trein’s classroom, Azul had run into the dark prince of the fae whilst rounding a bend in the corridor. Malleus had given him a placid, practiced smile in return; it reminded Azul far too much of Jade’s signature, sneaky expressions, which always promised something dangerous beneath an appealing and polite facade. It was a look Azul was on the route to mastering, himself. He knew it well. “Well,” Malleus said. “This is a pleasant surprise. I see you had a decent meal last night, Ashengrotto.” Azul had concurred this was true. Malleus had nodded in response, then raised an eyebrow, casting an eye down towards the center of Azul’s bloated middle. “And how is…your little mate?” he asked, in a careful sort of way, as if trying to be polite. It was more than an open secret, your whereabouts. Azul couldn’t help himself; he smirked a greedy sort of smirk, patting his belly - and making you wobble about on his warm, silky underbelly area, ripples going through your form. You could sense the possessiveness of his touch, the pride in his motions: it seemed, while he didn’t like gaining weight…he DID like gaining YOU. If you’d had the capacity to blush while being blubber, you would have been the color of a beet. “I think they’re feeling closer to me than ever before,” Azul had practically purred. There was a hint of a gloat in his voice. “That is good,” replied Malleus, narrowing his toxic green eyes. “Provided that is what they want.” “Well, it doesn’t particularly matter what my food wants, does it?” Azul responded. You had whimpered in the back of his mind at that; you knew he was saying this for your benefit, not Draconia’s. “But rest assured, I’m taking VERY good care of them.” Evidently, this tease had been the exact wrong thing to say around Malleus Draconia. You had felt the body all around you stiffen, as Malleus had leaned in close to glare into Azul’s eyes, his voice dropping to a deadly sort of whisper. “I understand your satisfaction, but I would advise you to mind your own avaricious nature, Ashengrotto. As pleasurable as it may be to hoard your little mate away all to yourself, one can be perhaps TOO greedy and gluttonous for their own good. Don’t forget: they may be your mate…” A slight hint of a snarl came into the dragon’s voice. “...But they are also my friend.” Azul’s possessive satisfaction had faded quickly then in a slew of hastily uttered apologies. Even now, seated in Trein’s class, he shuddered at the memory. “First you bloat me like a balloon,” he muttered to himself, glaring down at his belly between notes, “Then you nearly get me barbecued. Is it possible to get a divorce when marriage isn’t even instituted yet?” Well, technically, we’re already bound, was your quipping reply. Azul just glared more harshly, placing a hand to his temple as he tried to concentrate. It was hard to do so. His fingers fidgeted, wanting to play with his own belly; he could feel your energy, your warmth, stored inside of his body…it was like constant stream of oxytocin, dopamine, and serotonin were all being pumped through his body from the general area of his underbelly. He bit his lip, as he could sense your pleasure just as easily as you could sense his. You were enjoying your placement far too much…and probably too much pride at your accomplishments. The “cephalo-punk” glanced to the sides, where he noticed some students were STILL staring at his newfound rotundity. A flustered sort of glare came to his face and he looked to see if Trein was watching. He wasn’t: the wizened professor was busy trying to help a couple of Heartslabyul students at the other end of the lecture hall. A cunning smirk came to Azul’s lips. He put down his pen and looked down at his gut from behind his hand. To an outside observer, his posture would have made it seem he were simply thinking very hard…and in a way, he was. I take it being belly fat is approvable to you? He sent the thought your way. You wondered if sounds like whimpers and moans were real sounds to Azul in your current state, or if he could just sense the emotions the way one would interpret those noises. Whatever the case, he smirked wider was the obvious pleasure only increased. Well, since you’ve been SUCH a good little tummy pet, I’m going to give you an even better reward, he cooed mentally, in a tone that seemed sarcastic and sincere, somehow, at the same time. Hold onto your mind… Before you could ponder what that meant, Azul slipped the hand that had been holding his pen under his desk and placed it on his belly. Then, he ran his fingers across his sides, down along his hips…and shifted his posture to give his butt a subtle pat on the cheek. Beneath his pants, the glute wobbled slightly. Then he lifted his hand, a newfound smugness on his face as he picked up his pen and returned to his note taking at the same time Trein had returned to the blackboard to continue his lecture. No one, as far as he could tell, had noticed. What no one knew or would have likely been able to guess was that the motions had not been idle: what took him less than ten seconds felt like ten minutes, or even ten hours, to you. A sudden pulling sensation seemed to grab hold of your trapped mind; you had the feeling of being dragged through something - something thick, warm, and strangely-textured. All thought and all emotion became fuzzy and faint; hazy, like being pulled along through a dream. Then, after a sort of spinning, swimming sensation - like being whirled around in a typhoon - you finally found your soul coming to a rest… …And that was when you felt the weight. So. Much. WEIGHT. Pressing down all around you with oppressive, omnipotent ponderousness. You couldn’t move as it was, yet somehow you felt as if you wanted to squirm…and, of course, even if you’d had a body, you wouldn’t have been able to. You could feel your “body” being pressed, pushed down, all that weight firmly smushing the thick chub into a hard surface. You could not speak, yet words failed you; only frantic, confused thoughts, a mixture of arousal and intense bewilderment flooding your smothered spirit. Your essence flared with blaring signals of all sorts, from pleasure at the domination you were experiencing - so tightly kept, so helpless to resist or escape - and the fear and confusion that came with all that was going on. As if to try and help settle your broken mind. Azul wiggled in his seat. It was a simple action no one would have taken much notice of, especially since his eyes remained fixed on either Professor Trein or his own notes…but to you, it felt like you were being mashed and dragged and pressed out. The sensation was like a vigorous massage, encapsulating all of your body; jolts of pain and pleasure swallowing up your soul. A-Azul…! “Shhhhh,” he uttered aloud, then thought the rest of his comforting statement: It’s alright, angelfish. I’m here. I’m everywhere. I’m all around you. I’m just putting you…in your favorite place. If you could keen like a puppy, you would have done so then. You knew what that meant. Of all the parts of Azul’s body you loved most, nothing compared to his butt: considering so much of what he ate, in any amount, tended to go to his thick hips, thicker thighs, and matching thick glutes, you knew that all the pounds he’d put on had to make his ass truly MASSIVE now…and you were just BURIED in it. There was no escape from the unrelenting avalanche of rump meat that surrounded you. Is…this…reward…or…punishment? your crackling mind managed to stutter out. Azul smirked and responded by lifting his rump up slightly and dropping it again. Once more, it was a simple, swift movement - to any onlooker, he was just adjusting his seating posture for comfort’s sake - but to you, it felt like your entire universe was lifted up and SLAMMED down. You bobbled. Your whole being shook with his weight. The warm was more intense here than ever, and the musk was potent in your nonexistent nostrils. You were fused to his fat ass, and you could sense from the way he hummed around and above you that he loved that feeling. Both, was Azul’s single response in thought. Then, just to further drive home how totally he owned your being, Ashengrotto gave his glutes a hard flex, and the whole universe seemed to cave in around you, the pressure and heat intensifying; you swore it was like being pressed on all sides by his stomach again…except instead of slime and stench, all you could experience was his WEIGHT! Finally, Azul relaxed - once again, second seemed like hours to you - and you were left breathless (not that you needed breath) beneath his booty…no, WITHIN his booty. You once more wished you could truly whimper; it was the only sound to express your emotional status. You’d been sat on by Azul a few times - once he’d learned THAT dirty secret about you, he was VERY keen to play with it in private - but nothing compared to the sensations of being part of his fat butt. And now that it was fatter than ever… All thought trailed off as Azul glanced back and downwards over his shoulder with a sort of slimy smirk, then innocently went back to taking notes. He had to admit, right now, he was feeling much better about the added weight. It was so much easier to play with you now. “Don’t get too comfortable, my little pet,” he whispered to himself. “This day is still just getting started…”

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For the rest of the day, Azul decided to give you a full tour of what it was like to be a part of his body. Not just his butt, nor his belly, but his BODY. Once he had realized how good it felt to feel your confusion and flustered bafflement each time he moved you to a new portion of his form, he decided there was nothing to do but keep transferring your soul from one part of his anatomy to another. Once class with Trein had finished, Azul had kept you on his arse for a little while. You’d felt the way his booty bounced around behind him, and sensed how the cheeks bumped against each other, as if punishing themselves for being too big. Azul did not strut with pride to show off these gains - he was more concerned with the idea of his trousers splitting - but nevertheless, you could feel the way his thighs pumped beneath you, and how his hips helped you sway. Those parts of his body were the next ones you visited. His hips came first, as Azul went to Alchemy class, where his labcoat helped to hide just how much more girth he had put on. With the long, pristine white coat covering him down to his knees, he let your soul rise. You felt as if your entire being was split in half, changing from one solid mass spread across some portion of his blubbery bum, and now fractioned between the two sides of his pelvis. Every time he brushed something off on his labcoat, his hands slapped through the fabric against you. You could feel the way those hips bucked and rocked as he waltzed about the laboratory, fetching vials and beakers and other instruments, as well as numerous potions and chemical compounds, all for the sake of his assignments that day. For him, they were simple, everyday movements. For you, it was like being on a swing ride at an amusement park. He seemed to have more confidence in his stride as he left Alchemy - you could feel the way each side of you was thrust up and then dropped down, repeatedly, as he strolled about the campus - but he lost that confidence when he had to attend Vargas’ class. As expected, Vargas was quick to criticize Azul’s gains, and exercise period was particularly harsh as a result. It appeared Azul was eager to share his misery (or, for you, perhaps it was better written as “misery”), because that was when he transferred you to his thighs. You could actually feel the way they squeezed, pressing into his broomstick, and the way they worked as he engaged in other exercises at the coach’s orders. Every jogging step, every lunge, made your world twist and stretch and press down around you. If you’d still had a skull, you would have sworn it was being repeatedly crunched in between those mighty thighs and heavy hams. Finally, exercise period stopped. But the day still went on. Azul would quietly slip you between those three lower sections, on a neverending loop, over and over again: you swayed and quaked along on his hips as he walked, found yourself squeezed in the inner portion of his legs as he ate, and felt the way his hips rocked whenever he sat down for class or business. For the most part, Azul ignored your flustered responses, aside from simply soaking in the sensations they caused for him. But once in a while, some words would float down towards your soul as it suffered pleasures and enjoyed agonies, all untold. Sometimes the words were teasing and affectionate… Mmmm…you seem to like it when I press my thighs together…perhaps when you get your body back, we’ll put that to good use? Sometimes they were downright mocking… I bet you wish you were back on my belly by now, don’t you, silly little angelfish? And on more than one occasion, they were petulant and scolding. I hope you’re happy with yourself: I swear, as soon as I find grounds to blackmail Cater, I will END HIM for taking that wretched photo…! These last ones alway got a mental giggle out of you. The rest of the time, you didn’t think so much as simply…felt. Simply soaked in every sensation these different activities pushed into your swallowed, submissive soul. Time was a funny thing, when one was octo-flab. Everything seemed slower than it should have been, yet everything moved much too fast at the same time. It was deeply disorienting. You could not see anything, nor smell much beyond Azul’s own natural odor, which seemed to be inescapably around you at all times; not vile, but certainly intoxicating. All you could really do was hear without lugholes, and feel without digits. Nevertheless, you knew when the day finally ground its way to a halt. You could tell not only from the way the body all around you seemed to slump slightly with weariness, but from the sound you somehow detected of what could only be his dorm room door opening and closing…followed by the scraping of the lock as it was fastened tight. “By the Sea Witch, what a day,” sighed Azul, with great exhaustion. Ashengrotto removed his glasses, one long-fingered hand ruffling his own hair as he leaned back against the door. Your soul - presently occupying his hips - squeaked as you felt the vibrations of the impact swerve through your fat-based framework. Is…is it over? You managed to finally eep out. They were some of the very few cognizant words you’d managed to utter that whole day after your first transference to octo-boy buttocks had happened. Azul gave a tired sort of smile up towards the ceiling. He chuckled. “For me, basically, yes,” he murmured, then slid his eyes downwards as he stroked his hips softly through his tight pants. “Have you enjoyed the ride so far, my sweet?” Probably more than you have, you responded honestly. “Oh, I’m not sure about that,” Azul chuckled, and stepped away from the door, slipping off his blazer and hanging it up in a sweeping, swooping set of motions. “After all, having my favorite human occupying my newfound folds was…exhilarating, in some places.” Yeah, but…it was pretty embarrassing for you in other places. Azul frowned as he undid his tie and then began to unbutton his vest and shirt. “Yes,” he conceded. “But…I’m surprised you’re feeling bothered by that now.” I’m not, you insisted, hurriedly. Azul hummed, unconvinced, then shrugged and removed the rest of his garments. Soon, he was in naught but his underwear. He sighed, noticing the stretch marks that had formed along them. “For the record, you’re worth every pound. Having said that…you really did a number on my body,” he mumbled, pressing his hands into his hips firmly, as if nudging them into your soul buried inside. You would have quivered if you could. I…I definitely f-feel like…I must have, you replied. Azul sniffed softly, somewhat snootily and patted his hips, then groped his rump with a grimace. “It will take weeks to work all this off,” he groused…then paused before adding more quietly. “That is…If I work it all off…” There was a pause. Wh-what? You piped up, inquisitively. Azul sighed. He squirmed where he stood as he fetched his pajama bottoms. “I’m…going to admit, I…might have actually…LIKED having a little extra weight on me, in some cases,” he grumbled. There was a pause. Then your soul began to giggle. The giggle became a mental laugh. Azul flushed more than ever and growled, removing his glasses in a flash and slapping them onto his nightstand. “You know, I can move your soul to much, MUCH worse places than my butt, if you don’t behave,” he growled. “Or I could just keep you in there forever.” And risk being “roasted”? You reminded him, tauntingly. Azul let out a harumph. “I can see you’re going to be difficult,” he muttered, then smirked as he placed his hand to his hip. “Maybe next time I’ll find a way to show you more respect when you’re inside my body…” So saying, Azul moved his hand along his sides to the front of his belly. A sound not unlike a cat’s purr left him as he circled the tips of three fingers around his now once-more-bare midsection, your soul encircling his belly button. “...But for now, I think we BOTH need a rest in a warm, soft place. Besides, you only have a couple hours left till you reform, per our agreement.” The comforting, familiar sensations of being belly fat returned. Your soul gave an involunatary shudder, your lifeforce squirming beneath Azul Ashengrotto’s skin. The mafia-styled mage, moaned, his blue eyes fluttering as those warm, pleasant sensations flowed into his arteries before cycling back into his veins once more. “I think we can both agree on one thing,” he chuckled breathlessly, and you could feel the way his belly shifted with his mirth. “My rear end may be your favorite part of me in some respects…but clearly, my belly isn’t too bad, is it?” I’m not complaining, was the only answer you could give. “Neither am I,” Azul said, and there was a warmth to his voice. “I…I haven’t properly said it yet, for all this, but…thank you, Prefect. This was one of the strangest but…honestly, one of the most REWARDING sort of gifts I ever could have received for my birthday.” He paused, chewing on his lip…then sat down upon his bed, rubbing his hand up and down along the curve of his gut. “Angelfish?” Yes, Azul? “If I…if I DID decide to keep you there…would you hate me for it?” he asked, quietly. Your soul stilled. You could hear a sense of conflict in his voice. Suddenly, you realized…the weight wasn’t the only thing he was considering holding onto. “You’d be safe with me,” he said, in a soft, soothing, seductive way, which matched the hands you could feel roaming across his belly, kneading at the folds and rolls that had developed there, tracing into and out of and around his navel. “I would never truly harm you, angelfish. Never. And…and you like being part of me, don’t you? Warm and soft…comfy and cozy…I think I make a very nice home for you.” His words were light and gentle; lightly teasing, but not insincere. He was not pleading, nor taunting you…indeed, you felt perhaps he wasn’t really talking to the sentient chub you had become, to begin with. “It would lead to repercussions, certainly…but how could two people possibly be closer?” You make a good point, you admitted, without hesitation - a quickness of response that you could sense surprised Azul. But it wouldn’t be the same, would it? Azul hesitated before quietly whispering just two words: “That’s true.” Your soul smiled. You wished you still had hands; you weren’t sure if you could keep any thoughts to yourself, but if Azul read your thoughts about giving him belly rubs once you got your body back, he stayed silent about them. Maybe someday, you can take me. Permanently, you said, and the words were alarming in how honest they were. But…I think I’d rather just be me. Me and you. For a while. Azul smiled and nodded. He patted his belly. It jiggled. “Very well,” he said, then a greedy glint came to his ocean-colored eyes. “But I don’t know how long ‘a while’ might be, angelfish. I’m a notorious miser, even by my own admission.” Well, you’re also supposed to be a benevolent spirit. It wouldn’t be “benevolent” to take me away from everyone else I care about and keep me all to yourself, would it? “No, but Chernabog knows I still would love to.” For some reason, you giggled. If you’d had eyes, you would have rolled them. At least you’re honest. “Always, my angelfish,” purred Azul, poking his belly with one finger. “Always.” He yawned then, and lay back upon his bed. His pose was not unlike the one he’d had when he had woken up to the grumbling of his own guts the night before; one arm draped across his stomach, the other limply resting upon the bed. “In all fairness,” he murmured, tiredly, “I think I’d rather keep you around a while longer anyway. After all…if I made you into permanent, sentient fat upon my body, who else would feed me those lovely cakes, hmmm?” Ohhhh, so you’re giving up the advantage of keeping me as fat, for the advantage of being fed. I see how it is. I’m only useful as a cook. Got it. Azul chortled. His gut bounced and bobbled around you. “You know you mean more to me than that, Prefect,” he promised…then he frowned. “Having said that, PLEASE don’t overfeed me like yesterday again. As enjoyable as this amount of weight is…I’d rather not gain TOO much more.” The almost maniacal cackle that echoed in Azul’s mind showed your thoughts there. Wasn’t part of the contract. No promises! your sentience sang. Azul sighed and closed his eyes…but he couldn’t help the amused and loving smile on his chiseled face. “No wonder you were brought here to Night Raven, my pet,” he said softly, and drew a heart shape around his navel with one finger in a drowsy, dreamy, lax way. “You’re as incorrigibly greedy as I am.” Guilty as the day is long, your soul agreed. Azul hummed softly in a crooning sort of way, cupping his hand protectively over the area of his belly you now occupied. Soon, you felt the belly you were part of beginning to rise and fall as his breath evened out, and Ashengrotto drifted off into a dreamless, satiated sleep. You could do nothing now but wait…wait until the spell wore off, and your body reformed, right there next to him on the bed. You didn’t mind the wait. Your soul slept alongside his own, basking in the warm, blanketing softness of your boyfriend’s new belly. Azul Ashengrotto had once been a chubby little octopus. With your help, he’d find out that really wasn’t such a bad thing to be…and if that meant you ended up getting a front row seat to it all like this? Well. You simply called that incentive.

The End

[theonlyfoolishquestions]

We’re crossing fandoms here but like...can you imagine Bean’s reaction to seeing a Xenomorph?

[mrs-gucci]

Relinquishing Control {Maurizio Gucci x Reader} [blurb]

anonymous:

Imagining that any and everything you do turns Mau on.  Him being a nervous wreck during your first time and he just submits to you. Like imagine riding him and he's just a moaning mess. I'm so weak for him as a sub goodbye

author’s notes: oh. my. god. sub!Maurizio...hoooly shit!! I love it, I love everything about it. I’m a lil rusty on sub fics, so bear with me lol. 

warnings: smut. sub!Maurizio. cock-teasing. p in v. unprotected sex/creampie.

(possible) tw’s: mentions of consumption of alcohol.

terms to know

Tesoro means ‘treasure’ or ‘darling’ in Italian (an affectionate nickname). Cazzo means ‘fuck’ in Italian. Bello means ‘handsome’ in Italian.

After a romantic candlelit dinner and a walk through the moonlit streets of Rome, you and Maurizio make your way back to the penthouse. One more glass of wine later and you’re making out on the sofa. 

Soon, you find yourself upstairs, completely bare as you straddle Maurizio on his bed. Your lips work against his while you roll your hips on top of his crotch.  You never would’ve guessed that Maurizio would enjoy being out of control, considering his profession, but apparently he doesn’t mind.

You’ll be utilizing that in the near future, for sure.

His head presses back against the pillows and a shaky sigh leaves his lips. The veins begin to bulge out of his neck, hips wiggling beneath you.

“Cazzo,” He breathes, hands gliding up and down your thighs. “You look good up there, tesoro.”

The corners of your mouth curl up into a small but devious smirk as you slide down his body and tease the waistband of his boxers. You hum, walking your fingers up and down his shaft.

His hips buck up, a small whine leaving his lips. He blushes at the sound, looking away. You smile up at him, kissing the clothed head of his cock.

“Oh dio please.” He breathes, erection throbbing.

You slowly, teasingly pull his underwear down, exposing his arousal. He’s rock hard by now, slit drooling precum and tip flushed red.

“What do you want, Mauri?” Your voice is sweet, innocent.

Maurizio huffs. He simultaneously loves and hates being teased like this. “I want to be inside you, tesoro.”

You chuckle, watching him twitch angrily against his abdomen, desperate for contact.

“I don’t believe I heard a ‘please’ in there.”

His eyes widen. “Please. Please, I’m sorry.”

You’re enjoying this very much, more than you originally accounted for. He looks so desperate, like he’d do anything that was asked of him, and it rouses something within you.

“Good.”

Your panties are promptly pushed to the side and then, you seat yourself on top of him. You gasp softly as your walls stretch open to accommodate him, and he swears he blacks out for a second there. 

“Y/N.” He breathes, jaw clenched. “M-Move, tesoro, please...”

You nod, beginning to slowly bounce up and down on top of him, head falling back. “Shit bello, feels so good.”

His mouth hangs slightly ajar, eyebrows knitting softly at the center of his forehead while little moans, grunts and groans pour out from between his lips. Sweat is already beading at his hairline.

“Mm, mmm, mmmmm.”

Your pace grows quicker, now, feeling his length begin to pulse around you. His noises are like music to your ears, only fueling the fire of your arousal further. He looks almost as if he could cry, so desperate from your subtle teasing all evening long. 

“I’m--ohhhhh cazzo!--I’m not going to last--”

“No. You’re not gonna cum until I say you can.”

He shivers, groaning shakily before nodding shyly. “Y-Yes.”

“Yes, who?” Your eyebrows raise.

His teeth sink down into his pillowy bottom lip. “Yes...ma’am.” He almost cums just from saying those words.

You moan softly, hand splayed out on his chest to anchor yourself while the other begins to rub over your erect clit.

Maurizio groans, breath catching in his throat. His voice, when it eventually comes out, is barely above a breath. “P-Please.”

“Aww, do you wanna cum, Mauri? You wanna cum in my little p-pussy?” You taunt, smirking softly.

A sort of growl escapes him before his feet plant on the mattress, hips pushing up to meet your thrusts. You instantly cease your bouncing, and a single tear rolls down his cheek as he grunts in agony.

“No. Moving.”

“Yes, ma’am. I’m sssorry, ma’am.” He nods quickly, sniffling.

Your bouncing rhythm picks up right where it left off, quick and swift, and he’s right back up on the edge within a minute or so. He’s sweating, now, skin glistening under the side-table lamp’s glow.

“I’m gonna cum, bello.” You moan, rubbing your clit faster. “And you’re gonna fuck me through it without cumming. Is that understood?”

Maurizio nods, noises growing steadily louder as he teeters on the edge of climax. You cum moments later, moaning as you do so, walls spasming around him. 

He barely holds on through it, your pussy so tight around him. He’s begging you now, begging for permission to fill your throbbing cunt with his spend.

“Please, t-tesoro, please. I’m so close, I need to c-cum, please.”

You smirk, still bouncing on top of him, drawing your slick-covered fingertips away from your sensitive clit and bringing them up to his mouth.

“Clean them off.”

His lips wrap around your finger like a vice, slurping the juices right up off your digits like a man starved. You pull them out with a pop, then grab his jaw, leaning down so that your face is close to his.

“Cum.”

Maurizio falls apart beneath you, then and there, a soft cry of your name leaving his lips. His eyebrows crease and his head falls back against the pillows, hips rutting up relentlessly as he fucks his release up into you over and over again.

He’s trembling softly as he comes down from his intense release, arms wrapping around your torso and resting his forehead against your chest.

“Cazzo Y/N, that was...that was amazing.”

You smile, kissing him gently. “Glad you liked it.”

His face flushes bright red, then, and his eye dart away from yours.

“Could we, um...”

Your fingers tilt his chin up until his ocean blue eyes meet yours. “What is it, bello?”

“Could we start doing this sort of thing more often? Please?”

You smile, running your thumbs over his cheekbones as you look down at him with a smile and a small nod. “Of course.”

He grins, reaching up to kiss you.

“Mi rendi cosi felice, tesoro.” (You make me so happy, darling).

[shreddedparchment]

A Wife for Thor Pt.07

11/03/2020

Waiting to Exhale

Pairing: King!Thor x Reader          Word Count: 5, 871

Warnings: smut!, SO MUCH FLUFF, smidge of angst, language, talk of pregnancy for the purpose of an heir to the throne

A/N: Y’all, I really tried to move away from the smut this chapter but THOR MAKES ME DO IT! FUCK! I want him so much. Reader is literally me. lol Anywho, I wrote the end of this chapter like half asleep, just now. And I’m too tired to even worry about going back to proof it and I wanted to share it with y’all now instead of making you wait until tomorrow so, here it is. If you happen to reblog, thanks so much for helping me spread my work! xoxo

Please DO NOT REPOST my stories on any other sites or blogs.

REBLOGS are always welcome!

Kissing Thor is noisy. Mainly because he likes to really kiss you. His lips smoosh against your own until he’s delving into your mouth with his tongue. You’re so eager to reciprocate the affection that you greet him willingly. Your own tongue swirling around his own.

You’re hit with the salty tang of the olives from his sandwich, a spicy bite to the flavor from the jalapeños.

He kisses you slow, making it last minutes. He makes you dizzy and your heart seems to be perpetually pounding since last night.

The water sloshes around both your bodies as he reaches down to wrap his arm around your waist and pull you right up against him, breasts squished against his massive pecs.

He holds the side of your head, fingers strong and possessive as he tilts your head to explore you better.

When your breath is nothing but gasping, he pulls back with an audible smack. He leans in to kiss you twice more. Two quick pecks before he twists to his right and reaches for the large glass of wine he’d poured you.

Handing it to you, he fixes your hair before reaching to his left for a sandwich triangle. Roast and chicken, cheese, tomatoes, and mustard. You’re not even sure you like this food but when Thor holds the tip of the sandwich up to your lips you open up and take a bite.

Your mind is too preoccupied with the naked God before you to worry about the flavors in your mouth anymore. If it doesn’t immediately pertain to Thor, then you don’t have a mind for it right now.

He follows your bite with his own and replaces the sandwich on the tray still half full along with a bowl of olives and another of cheese cubes.

You lick your lips as you chew, watching his face for any shift that might hint at a change of mood.

Thor however hasn’t changed since this morning when you gave yourself to him completely. And he gave himself to you too.

Maybe it’s silly to think that way, that what happened between the two of you was anything more than sex, but it felt like it. Especially that first time.

He’d been so…there had been something about the look in his eyes, the way he touched you. So sweet and gentle. So loving.

Even now, his free hand finds the soft skin of your side and while you flinch at first, he knows to keep his hand there and after a moment you settle and are still again.

“Why do you pull away?” Thor had asked in the morning after that first time when he’d been laying with you, talking as his hand sought a spot on your side.

“I’m not pulling away.” You’d argued. “I’ve just never been touched there before by anyone but myself. It feels weird. Not exactly a tickling but close to it.”

Now he lets the surprise pass and caresses the spot once your body has moved on from the shock.

“You keep searching for something. What is it, cherub?” He reaches over to give your cheek a little pinch then throws his hand over the edge of the large bath you’d seen when you’d stolen a peek at his bathroom.

The water is steaming hot, such a comfort to your surprisingly sore body. You hadn’t realized how much your morning activities would stress it. What a work out!

Thor’s already frowned at the bruises he can see he’s left on you. You shut that down quickly. You liked the sex. You’re not about to give it up because he’s a little too strong.

Smart? Probably not. But you’re discovering a whole new side to yourself that you hadn’t known you could be. And the bruises are only on your hips, some on your ass.

You didn’t know that you could be desirable and seductive. Irresistible? Definitely not! But from the way Thor’s hands keep loving on your curves, you must at least be so to him, right? Even if it’s only in a physical, sexual way. It’s more than you ever thought you’d have.

“Nothing.” You swallow your food, tipping your glass against your lips to wash it down with a mouthful of wine.

Before you can say anything else, Thor mashes his lips to yours. His tongue takes a quick dip into your mouth before finishing his kiss with another peck.

“Mmm.” He hums, and you can’t help but laugh.

“What was that for?”

“You taste like raspberries.” He informs you, swiping his thumb across your lips.

“It’s the wine.”

Thor purses his lips, giving you a skeptical look as if you’re lying.

“Mmmmm, you sure?” He smiles, a big goofy grin you hadn’t seen yet.

The expression gives you such joy that you laugh, leaning against his chest as your body shakes with it.

Thor’s eyes are bright, happy, and he gladly dips his head down to kiss your lips as you pucker your lips up at him.

“Can this be real?” You wonder, staring up into his pretty face.

“Why do you think it isn’t? Shall I pinch you?” His hand tickles your side, grabbing gently.

You squirm and laugh, quickly grabbing his hand to stop his pinching.

“No!” You shake with your chuckling. “Stop.”

“I will if you tell me why you can’t believe this is reality.”

“I don’t know? Because it all feels too good to be true?” You turn around slowly, nestling into his lap, his arms wrapping themselves around you instantly as you lean back against him, resting your head against his shoulder.

He kisses your cheek, then rests his own scratchy bearded cheek against your head.

“I mean, it was three days ago that I was sitting in my house, completely alone and would have probably stayed that way until I died. I’ve never felt any kind of interest for anyone before.”

“I’m sure someone would have come along and fallen in love with you. You’re very lovable, cherub. Otherwise, how could you feel so good where I have you?”

Your cheeks are burning hot. If someone held a wick to it, it would light and burn.

You laugh nervously, not believing a single word.

“It’s true.” Thor insists, squeezing you against his body. “If I’m completely honest, no one has ever felt this good before.”

“You just need the affection.” You scoff.

“No.” Thor refuses your thinking. “I like you.”

He drops his voice to a deep whisper. As he says those three words, it becomes thick and heavy. It means a lot. To you. To him. This is a significant moment, and he makes sure to steal your breath with his massive body curling around you from behind and that deep voice that likes to nestle in between your ribs and make it hot there.

“We’ve only just started,” he observes. “Imagine how I’ll feel in a month.”

He’s absolutely wicked with his charm, and you know you’re a lost cause to it. There’s no going back from this now.

“And I did like you, too. Even when I first came to see you. I can’t deny that. I think it’s pretty clear by now, how I feel. But I had no idea that it was to this extent. I didn’t know that I’d go from virgin to what happened today in the blink of an eye.”

“Is that a bad thing?” Thor asks, no fear in his voice but you can feel a tension in his arms.

“Nope. It isn’t.” You shake your head, turning to look at him but he’s so close.

His cheeks are a flushed pink bronze. You realize he’s blushing at your confession much like his made you all flustered too. He’s hot for sure, downright breathtaking, but you had no idea he could be this adorable too. Cute? He’s almost like a puppy in this moment. Sweet and lovable.

You can’t help yourself, so you just kiss his bearded chin, and he quickly turns to meet your lips with his own.

He relaxes, the affection calming him? You’re not sure. But that’s what it feels like and it plays into your theory that he’s been needing the physical reassurance.

You reach up behind his head, fingers delving into the short and wet strands of his hair as he reaches over and forces your head to turn more so that he can kiss you with passion again.

You whimper, his touch intoxicating.

In response to your own sounds of enjoyment, Thor utters a small groan. Slowly he pushes you up, rises, and spins with you until your back is to the edge of the bathing pool. He turns you around, then with kisses to the center of your back to nudge you forward, he guides you into bending over with your chest pressed against the warm edge of the bath. He bends over you completely and pulls you into another passionate kiss, holding your face towards his by grabbing your chin.

Gently he nudges your legs open with his knee and before you can prepare yourself fully, he’s inside you, curling his hips around your bum as he plunges himself deeper.

You break the kiss to gasp with pleasure, the sensation growing on you more and more. As he cups your breasts, you lay your head down and reaching back to hook your hand around his bottom, pulling him towards you when he thrusts making him groan with excitement as he picks up the pace.

~~~~~~~~~~

He’s moaning underneath you. A dramatic, overexaggerated, completely ridiculous display meant only for you as you card your hands through his drying hair. He has his head in your lap, shirtless form with only a baggy pair of black sweats keeping his manly bits private. For you, his face is upside down. But that doesn’t make him any less handsome.

You’re sitting with your back against the headrest, chuckling at the look on his face and the stupid sounds he’s making for your benefit.

“Stop making those noises!” You laugh, “It doesn’t sound right.”

“Or does it sound just right?”

You chuckle continuously, scratching his scalp lightly and his mouth genuinely falls open.

“Oh, that feels so good.”

Silly man.

“Are we going to spend the rest of the day in bed?” You wonder, not minding the idea one bit.

He mumbles something indistinct. Maybe nonsense? You’re not sure. But you laugh again.

“What?”

“Please, don’t stop.” He begs.

You lapse into silence, letting this blissful moment stretch on until your mind starts to wander.

You’ve realized that the affection he’s after isn’t just that, but he’s also touch starved.

You are too, but that makes sense. You’ve been single your whole life.

It’s weird for him. He’s been with Jane for a while. Why does it feel like these displays of affection from you are something he’s been yearning for? Maybe not from you specifically, but the touch is welcomed. Eagerly.

“Can I ask you something?” You keep stroking his hair, nails lightly grazing his scalp in small circles.

“Mmmmmmm…” He looks like he might fall asleep, his one blue eye shut.

“I know you said that you picked me because of what I told you my ideal marriage was like. Is this part of a marriage important for you? Physical affection? Is that what you liked about the description I gave you?” You reach down to stroke his cheek, loving the feel of his beard against your skin.

Thor opens his eye, staring up at you with a torn expression. What does it mean?

“I liked the image you painted of us.” He reaches up, caressing the back of your neck. “I should be more honest with you.”

Fuck. Is it bad news?

“Truth is, Jane and I haven’t really been together for about half a year. We hadn’t broken up officially or anything. And it isn’t so much that we haven’t seen each other just because we’re busy but we haven’t tried to see each other.

“If we had tried a little harder, I think we could have still kept things going for a bit longer, but…” He doesn’t finish his thought and instead leaves you to wonder if maybe Jane didn’t want to try? Or maybe he didn’t want to? Which is silly because he’s been holding out for her.

It’s what almost ruined your opinion of him.

“But you still love each other?” You’re confused, his love for her is so obvious.

“Many people who love each other drift apart. If both parties are not willing to keep the relationship going, even the strongest love can be inconsequential.”

His eye is trained on the ceiling above, a beautiful ornate wooden design carved by Asgardian artisans. He’s lost in thoughts. Depressing ones it looks like.

You don’t like the idea of him being unhappy. It stings a little on a personal level too to know that it’s because of his pining for an ex-love.

But you want him to know that you’ve heard him. You understand his feelings as best as you can.

“I’m sorry she doesn’t know what she’s losing.” You mean it too.

Jane is losing out on such a beautiful soul. Alien or not, Thor is entrancing.

You can’t picture your life without Thor now. Even if your feelings are still growing and nowhere near where his and Jane’s are for each other, the idea of never feeling his kiss again, his weight on you? It’s unbearable to think about.

He told you he likes you! That means something, right?

He’s also so sweet and funny. He really is a dream. If he hadn’t propositioned you during that first meeting of feigning your marriage, he’d be perfect. But no one can be perfect and you’re pretty sure he must have been desperate as hell at the time.

“But maybe I should write her a thank you note?” You place your hands on both sides of his face, thumbs stroking his cheekbones. “If she had agreed to marry you, I wouldn’t be here. And I’m so…so lucky to be here, Thor.”

You sigh heavily, having been thinking about this since your bath at noon.

“I thought I was going to be married to someone who wouldn’t care about me.” You confess. “I thought I was doomed to living a life without real feeling. But what we have…it isn’t normal, right? This kind of connection isn’t common?”

You could be wrong. This isn’t something you’re knowledgeable about. Not even a little bit.

“No. It’s not.” Thor agrees, reaching up to hook his hand around the back of your neck, a gentle squeeze to emphasize his words.

“We’re lucky, Thor.” You nod, smiling hopefully because for the first time since all of this craziness began, you can see the life you’d imagined for your ideal marriage as a true possibility.

There might be more to it. It’s not just a marriage, but a duty. You’ll be Queen and Thor is already King. There’s going to be more than days like this with him. There’ll be obligations and maybe even things that you won’t want to do.

Days like this will make it worth it.

Thor smiles at you, his body relaxed again after getting things off his chest.

“We’re lucky.” He agrees and pulls you down until he can kiss you.

Upside down, the kiss is a little strange. You huff a laugh against his lips until he reaches up to take hold of your head and tilt it to the side so that he can silence you with a deeper kiss.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Alright, I’m here.” Thor announces, strutting into his war room on the second floor.

It’s a simple room, large as it is. Round like his bedroom, with no windows. There’s a doorway to the right on the far end that leads to a small tower hidden among the various roofs of the palace. That’s his strategic viewpoint. That’s where he can see invaders if invaders are stupid enough to try and come here.

“You’re late.” Loki says, off-hand, not paying attention. He's focused on what’s before him. Busy.

There’s no urgency in his voice so Thor stops just inside the door, hands finding his hips as he stands there staring at his brother.

The silence is almost endless until Loki looks up and does a double take at the sight of Thor standing there wearing a pair of baggy black sweats and a ratty old gray shirt. It’s clean. Just full of frays and tears.

“I see we’ve completely given up.” Loki observes. “One day with your fiancé and you think you can relax and walk around looking like an Earth frat boy?”

“How do you know what a frat boy is?”

“I’ve been on Earth longer than you have I think.” Loki scoffs. “I had to scope out the planet before I tried to take it over, remember?”

“That’s not something I would go around bragging about, brother. The people of Earth might not realize you’ve changed.” Thor finally moves in further, sitting himself down on the large throne-like seat at the head of a very large round table that doubles as a battle map.

This is what Loki had been focused on.

As he sits back, relaxing in his comfy chair, he sighs heavily. Happily. Hands resting on his stomach as he stares at the table, zoning out with thoughts of the copious amount of times he’d made love to you today.

Loki’s continued silence begins to draw his attention and he turns to look at him only to find him with narrowed and suspicious eyes.

“What did you do?” Loki demands, “Why do you look so pleased with yourself?”

“Hm? Nothing. I did nothing.” Thor assures him, sitting up a little straighter and clearing his throat.

Loki knows him too well. The way Thor spreads his legs, wide apart as he claims the room as his own with his mere presence. There are only two reasons his brother takes that posture.

“I know you, Thor. You’ve either defeated an enemy in battle within the last few hours of the day—which is clearly impossible since you’ve been holed up in your bedroom this entire time. Or you’ve gone and bedded some woman until you’re entirely spent.”

Thor clears his throat, avoiding his brother’s eyes.

“Thor,” He already sounds upset. “I thought you were going to wait until you were married to her?”

His demanding tone, the upset brings a sense of slight shame to Thor’s beautiful memories of the day.

Quickly he wipes that away. It was a day well spent, growing closer to you and forming a bond that will help you both in your marriage.

“We were supposed to!” Thor argues.

“How could you bed her two days before the wedding?”

“She asked me to!” Thor counters, getting to his feet as he gestures towards the door with both hands flat, palms up.

“As if I’d believe that.” Loki frowns.

“She did! I swear to you, I tried to refuse her.”

“Not very hard, I imagine.” Loki scoffs.

“Loki, the last thing that I want to do is take advantage of Y/N. She’s honest and true. She doesn’t play games and she’s up front about what she wants. She told me that she wanted to be with me because she felt it was right, not because she was required to in order to consummate our marriage.

“And honestly, I’m glad that we did it. Not only do I know now that she and I are compatible in that way, but it meant more for her to do so willingly. I wasn’t exactly eager to bed her knowing that she was only doing it because it was something she was obligated to do either. We were both of one mind on that front.”

Loki’s eyes are sharp, trained on Thor as he explains himself and crosses the room to a small table against the right curved wall to pour himself a glass of ale. He’s able to see that Thor is not lying. Everything he just said is the truth. And while he worries about you and Thor too, he can see that this is probably for the best.

He thinks about it as Thor drinks, then accepts this new phase of your courtship.

“Well, I suppose it’s never too early to start working for that heir.”

Thor sputters on his drink, coughing and gasping.

He thumps his chest, turning to Loki as he zones out again with thoughts of the copious amount of times he’d made love to you today, and each and every time he released within you.

True, you and he would have had to start on an heir quickly. It’s what the people want, as well as the Ambassadors for Earth. They want tangible ties to the human race.

Still, Thor’s heart begins to pound at the idea of your belly swelling with his babe.

It’s not an unpleasant thought. In fact, the more he pictures it, the more he likes it.

Because he’s an idiot, he tries to picture Jane like that too.

They’d never even discussed children.

Jane had been focused on her work and Thor had been too happy to step aside and wait for her to be ready.

He finds he can’t picture Jane the way he can picture you, sweet smile caressing your belly as you look up to meet his eye. Smile widening before you reach out towards him, “Come feel, he’s kicking.”

His imagination is surprisingly vivid and his heart swells.

“A head start on siring an heir isn’t a bad idea. You should spend tomorrow doing the same.” Loki suggests.

Thor reaches up to rub along his chest, right over his heart as that feeling of fullness keeps growing.

“Aye,” Thor agrees, but his words are a whisper to himself. “I think I just might.”

“What?” Loki asks, Thor too quiet for him to hear.

“Nothing. What was the threat you wanted to speak of?” Thor moves back to his seat, but rather than take it, he stands, staring at the simple map of Earth.

Loki isn’t looking at the map, however. He’s got what looks like a silver bowl on top of it, a glistening silver liquid within.

“A window.” Thor realizes.

“Just a small one.” Loki nods, staring intently at the serene liquid.

“What do you see?”

Thor only sees the silver liquid.

“Stirrings. They’re quiet, and only shadows for the time being. I sense Jotunheim.” Loki murmurs darkly.

“Laufey?” The worry is heavy on his mind now, nothing but this threat matters to Thor. In this moment, he’s got one thing on his mind.

“Perhaps.” Loki nods.

“But you killed him. Didn’t you? You saved father and mother. Another trick, brother?” Thor spits, almost angry. Mostly just suspicious.

“No.” Loki insists, giving his brother a frown. “Not on my side. I thought he was dead. I’m not sure if it’s him but it feels like Laufey.”

“What does this mean?”

“I’m not sure yet, Thor. As I said, it’s only a stirring. I’ll have to keep watch.”

“Have you shared this with the guard? Brunnhilde? Sif?” Thor asks.

“Yes.” Loki nods, waving his hand over the silver. “Sif has gone to hurry the Warrior’s Three back in case something should come before the wedding. Don’t worry, brother. As soon as I have more information, I will come to you.”

With a heavy sigh, Thor crosses his bulging arms over his hardened chest. Now his mind is preoccupied. Worries begin to grow. The safety of his people first and foremost.

They don’t have the armor or weapons to defend the city much less the surrounding human cities in the area. If the Jotunn should rise again, their wrath would not stop with New Asgard.

“Thor?”

“Hm?” He’s still mostly distracted, out of it as his mind races to plan ahead for all contingencies.

“Don’t you have a pretty future Queen of Asgard waiting in your bedroom? Did you not have something to do?”

Thor’s gaze eventually wanders over to Loki. He understands he should say something, so he nods. “Right, of course. Right. Keep me posted.”

He walks around him, through the door and back up to his floor. At the end of the hall he sees the light seeping through the bottom of the door. The warm glow of the lit fire.

Moving towards it, he doesn’t see it or the comforts it promises. He can only see the thousands of faces of his people, looking to him for guidance and reassurance. Their safety is in his hands. He can fight for days, weeks without stopping if he has to in order to protect those under his care, but he’s one man. How will he protect them all?

He can’t be there to block every blow.

The weight of his crown is heavy, feet falling heavy against the wooden floor.

A fear begins to bubble up in his chest, shifting and squirming, making him feel sick to his stomach. His hand shakes as he reaches out to take hold of the handle to his door. As he takes it, he squeezes harder than he means to and the metal groans beneath his grip.

When he pushes the door open, a wave of warmth washes over him, pulling him out of the grip of the cool hallway air.

He hears a groan from his desk chair.

Searching for it, he spots you sitting with your back twisted as you hold to the arm, turning to face him.

It’s the sight of you that clears his head and steadies his heart.

Sitting there with in his pink sweater again, this time a pair of thick wool socks on your feet. One is scrunched around your ankles, the other holding firm to your lovely, well explored calf.

You take his breath away as you smile at him, your eyes searching his face. Your pretty smile falters, a scrunch between your eyes as notice his distress.

“Is everything okay?” You ask him, the laptop behind you abandoned mid-sentence on whatever work you’re writing.

He stops by the door. It shuts behind him. You stand up and Thor’s mind is bathed with the delicious image of you again, belly swollen with his child.

This time you’re not smiling and beckoning him for a feel of a kick. Instead, you’re standing before him, your hands resting against that belly, your face twisted in honest concern.

This time he doesn’t have to imagine what you would say because you open your mouth now and say, “C-Can I help? Thor? What can I do?”

Nothing.

You can do absolutely nothing if a Jotunn army comes to freeze the Earth over. Their cradle is gone but their power comes from magic. Magic in their blood. And they’re strong enough to do damage without the cradle.

So, even though you ask, and he knows that the answer is nothing, just the fact that you ask. That adorable little crinkle between your eyes.

His mind returns and in three long strides he’s got you up in his arms. He kisses you hard, overcome with gratitude and that image in his head of you pregnant both smiling and worried. It’s too much for him and how can he show you how much your offer means to him?

How can he show you that your own strife over his feelings for Jane is unnecessary?

The only way he can think of in this moment is without words. With his hands and his lips and his body.

“Mm.” You mumble, resisting. You push yourself back a bit and Thor lets you get away but keeps you held against his body; your legs wrapped around his waist. “Thor, what’s wrong?”

Your hands are so gentle against his cheeks, caressing his beard, stroking it as if the feel of it brings you pleasure.

He pushes forward, past your little grip and buries his face against the side of your neck.

You smell like rosewater. And something else. Something just you. You’ve taken another bath in his absence. He can’t blame you after all of the loving he’s given you today.

Without another query you wrap your arms around his shoulders, one hand making soothing circles between his shoulder blades, the other on the back of his head in a supportive caress.

Thor is absolutely melting from all this affection you’re giving him.

How had he survived without it?

How had he gone so hard for so long and only now realized that he’d been waiting to exhale.

Here in your arms, he can breathe finally. Even though the weight of Asgard is on his shoulders, and the weight of the Earth and the nine realms too, with you here holding him up he can take solace for a bit.

He carries you back to the bed, sits on the edge, and you readjust your legs so that you can keep them on either side of him but hold yourself up a bit more steadily. Thor loves the way you seem to flow with his movements. You respond and he adjusts for you too.

After what feels like an hour, he pulls back to look up at your beautiful face.

“Where have you been all of my life?” He whispers, voice choked from the breath he’d finally breathed.

“I’m here now.” You nod, “And I won’t go anywhere unless you want me to.”

Thor scoffs at the idea, such a completely stupid and ridiculous thought for you to have because he cannot possibly exist without you in his life now.

He realizes it now more than before. The sex had been fantastic. Much needed. The intimacy welcomed and yearned for, though not exactly from you until you gave it and he realized that it was exactly your type of intimacy he’d been looking for.

There’s something more to what you can give him. More to what you’re already providing him with.

To his great pleasure, and he hopes to yours too, there’s one more thing he needs from you. Something that he hopes you’re willing to give.

“Let’s make a babe.” He says, and he can see your breath hitch.

The way he can see your mind go blank and fuzzy and then try to process what he’s just said is endearing. You’re always so shocked by his displays of attachment.

He can’t exactly blame you. It’s only been three days. Still, he’s felt more in these three days than he has over years with anyone else.

This feels so close to love, he’s almost certain that for him it already is. But he’ll hold off telling you until he’s completely sure. He meant what he told Hilde and Loki. He doesn’t want to hurt you.

Not ever.

“Wh-what?” You finally stutter, your lips shaking as you speak.

He smiles, reaches up to trace your bottom one with his thumb and they part for him, a response no doubt curated by the many situations he’s placed you in today. Every touch had been a request to come closer and every time you’d opened up for him.

“We’ll have to have one eventually. Soon, too. The Ambassadors will want a human Asgardian heir as soon as possible to make sure that I’ll have a reason to protect the human species as much as my own.

“But mostly I really just want to see you heavy with my child, cherub. We’ll make many little angels together. Sooner, rather than later.” Thor hooks his hand behind your neck, giving it a squeeze as he pulls you towards his lips.

You pucker up instantly the closer you get, your eyes peeled however, trained on his own electric blue as if you’re waiting for him to say it’s a joke.

He gives you a peck, just reassurance for you.

“You do?” You breathe, airy and short.

“I do. Let me make you a true mother of Asgard.” He whispers, and he can see your skin pimple. He reaches down to run his hand up along your arm, only making the goosebumps more pronounced as he tries to soothe them.

Thor can see you struggling to find the words. It doesn’t look like a negative thing.

He brings his hands down to our thighs, running them up to push the sweater you’re wearing up a bit until his fingers find the crease of your bent legs just below your hips. He tickles you there and you squirm, accidentally rubbing up against him just right.

“Let me fill you up, my sweet, sweet cherub.” He gushes, hoping it’s not coercion he’s inflicting and hopefully just reassurance. “I want you to the be the mother of my children. Only you.”

And then you pounce.

Thor is taken aback by the weight you throw on him, the flurry to get his pants down and his shirt yanked up over his head. He traces your sides, fingers dragging across your skin slowly which only seems to drive you crazier.

You kiss him hard at first, then after a minute, it softens.

You pull back to look down at him and Thor tries to read that look in your eyes. He tries to understand the resolve there, the grit he can see.

Then you’re kissing him again, these electric fire kisses that seem to make the world around him blur until all he can see, feel, hear, or care about is you and your body and pulling those little chuckles from you in the middle of your romp because the way your voice suddenly shifts into a moan from the happy sound drives him wild and all he wants to do is make you call his name.

What is this intoxication he has with you? That apple taste of you, so much like ale, draws him in and there’s no escaping you now. You’re his, and he can see in your eyes that he is truly yours.

Willingly he gives himself up to you. All thoughts of Jane driven from his mind because how can anyone compare to this draw of you? This perfection?

“Oh, Thor…” You whimper, his hands pulling you slowly against his hips as he pushes himself up with his other arm.

He hits you deep, stretching you wide as he stuffs you with his cock. Your hand is tight around his shoulder, nails digging hard as you bite your lip and muffle your moan.

“No…” He pulls you to him, sitting up then standing up and taking you with him. He turns around then with you falls to the bed. “…no. Let me hear you. I wanna hear you.”

He thrusts in deeper and you cry out loud, legs wrapping around his waist to yank him closer.

“Like that.” Thor whispers, approving of the sound you just made.

He thrusts again and it’s breathier, but still a cry and anyone in the palace will know that he’s made you his, body and soon soul too.

Will he ever tire of your body? Will he ever tire of these sighs and moans?

He doesn’t even need to ask because he knows.

Never.

[deniigi]

my supervisor fucked me over with all my other coworkers present. can I request a one shot from you to cheer me up featuring Sammy?

Did I give y’all the fic about the hotpot?

Well if I didn’t, I’m giving it to you now.

Title: hotpot

Summary: Ganke checks the comments for the Blindspot comic daily and there’s this one asshole anon who keeps talking shit about BT.

--

The Blindspot comic went live in the fall and Ganke couldn’t stop checking the hit count every five seconds. All night there had only been ten hits.

He told himself not to be disappointed. The only person who really mattered had read and loved the comic.

Miles said that BT had even forced everyone on the team to read an abridged version of Journey to the West, and had gone as far as to make a quiz to determine everyone’s character.

Miles refused to disclose who he’d gotten.

BT had clearly rigged the game to make himself Sun Wukong and Ganke was proud of him.

That kind of enthusiasm was exactly what he’d been hoping for, anything else now was just icing on the cake.

Even though it would be cool if it wasn’t just BT reading his own comics.

That would be pretty cool, right? Like. If people online all started reading BT’s comic. That would be sort of amazing.

Kind of excellent.

Definitely worthy of an A+ and double pats on the back.

Right?

The hit counter didn’t think so. But hey, five more people had opened the page since last night. That was something, wasn’t it?

 MM: dude why not just ask Sam to tweet out the link?

 How dare you, Miles Morales.

How dare you waltz into this place with logical thought.

GL: I can’t do that. That’s like. Idk. Inflating the views.

MM: okay yeah explain to me how appealing to the person in control of the largest part of his own fandom is inflating the views

GL: I see your logic and I’m banishing it

MM: I’m messaging him

GL: DON’T

MM: too late

MM: he says ‘gimme link’

GL: asdksjsjdks

--

 @blindspot: hi I know y’all can’t get enough of me to the point of asking shockingly invasive questions and for you I say good news! Some amazing folks have gone through the trouble of making a Blindspot comic. it’s good guys check it out [link]

--

 It helped.

A lot.

It helped a lot.

--

 People, on the whole, had great things to say. The panels were screenshotted and tagged and sent all over social media and even though Miles was pretending to be chill and aloof about the whole thing, Ganke could imagine him smiling big and bright and white at his phone non-stop.

Mom and Auntie saw a few of the bits on Twitter and tittered over them in the kitchen like pigeons.

The pride rose like a wave. Ganke kept waiting for the crash.

--

 It came two days later in the form of a comment that read ‘Christ, look at all this fuss. BT is fine. I hate his brother.’

It felt like someone punching the wind out of Ganke’s lungs.

He took comfort in the handful of people who leapt in to shout down the commenter. They emphasized that if the anonymous commenter didn’t like the story or the characters, then they didn’t have to read it and they, especially, didn’t have to say anything about it.

Ganke appreciated those guys. He got the feeling that a lot of the people on there knew that the whole thing had been done but a couple of kids.

Not that Anon cared.

Anon replied to all these comments ‘No, I’m gonna keep reading, thanks. Anyways, the brother is lame. The smart part is cool, but why’s it always gotta be a guy?’

The part that haunted Ganke even after he’d shut his laptop and had gone to stick his head out the window for some big breaths of cleansing air was that Anon was kind of right.

--

 GL: should we have made Guotin’s brother a sister?

MM: no

GL: why not?

MM: cause BT’s always wanted a brother

 Oh.

Okay. Then it was fine?

 MM: yeah man ignore them. it’s chill.

GL: k thanks my ego is huge and fragile

MM: trust me I know

 Asshole. Fine, moving right along.

--

 It didn’t stop. Anon commented on every page. Every. Single. Page.

Ganke didn’t know what to do or say. On the one hand, clearly this person was dedicated and deeply engaged with the comic, on the other hand, they needed a Rude Alert button. Ganke wondered if Ned could code one for them and them only.

The latest of their fury was directed at the big reveal in the second issue—BT’s face.

Having now met Sam, BT, Blindspot, Ganke’s whole image of him had changed.

He was not conventionally attractive as far as like, K-Pop idols and famous Chinese dudes went. His eyes were puffy and narrow and his face was round everywhere but the jaw. He leaned more towards ‘cute’ than ‘sexy,’ which Ganke sort of loved about him.

He was friendly. Stressed and grumpy and feisty as hell, yeah, but first and foremost friendly.

Miles claimed that he called it his ‘number one asset in employability.’ Which was wild because hello, Blindspot.

Obviously, BT couldn’t help his face. But Miles and Ganke could help Guotin’s.

Ganke had sent Miles about fifteen different images of Chinese celebrities and had told him to do his worst. They’d reviewed the final few drafts and had picked one that was most like a young Chen Kun. His face was more oval-shaped than BT’s. His chin and lips were slimmer but more defined. He was pretty, but not so pretty as to be called ‘feminine,’ which Ganke thought was a solid compromise between ‘handsome as sin’ and ‘looks like he’s got a quirky sense of humor.’

Anon hated him.

Anon thought that he looked like an idol, and they were not here for it.

They told ‘the artist’ to give him a mole or something, anything to make him look ‘less pristine. God, I can smell him from here and he smells like Dior and staph habitat.’

Ganke had to look up what a staph infection was. He regretted it. He asked Miles if they should censor Anon.

Miles said ‘mmmmm, idk it’s not like they aren’t saying anything that isn’t true.’

Ganke resented that. Clearly this was defamation of BT. This person hated him and was taking their feeling out on the comic.

 MM: I mean yeah but it’s not like they’re talking about the comic, man. They’re talking about the style and like, thinking about it, a mole or smth to help you tell him apart from other folks would kind of be helpful. Like, especially if we ever put him in a crowd, you know?

 HHHHHH.

Fine.

Anon could stay. But they were on thin ice.

--

 It was hard not to be bitter about Anon’s comments, especially when they arrived daily, as though Anon knew exactly what they were doing and which page they’d left off at. They couldn’t possibly be reading the comic one page at a time, this was intentional.

Ganke’s jaw hurt from all the tooth grinding he’d endured as of late.

This latest one read ‘yo, has BT ever mentioned fighting with a sword? I don’t recall him mentioning. Someone should take that thing away from him before someone loses an eye—or maybe even two.’

That felt like a pointed jibe.

That turned the churning irritation in Ganke’s gut into something much, much colder.

Did Anon know about BT’s black and blue eyes? How could they know? Was it a coincidence? It seemed to be more than a coincidence.

The pile of critiques was growing bigger and bigger, and now that Ganke thought about it, they all seemed to take issue with things that didn’t match the real Blindspot’s personality.

It was as if they knew him.

 GL: miles did you read the new comment from AnonTheAsshole?

MM: lol yeah

GL: tell me if I’m talking out my ass or whatever but like

GL: you don’t think they could be Muse, could they?

 Silence.

 MM: oh no

 Yeah. Fuck.

 MM: chances are low.

GL: they know so much tho??

MM: might be stalker? Maybe someone who’s over-invested in BT’s social media pages?

GL: maybe.

MM: hold on let me ask Spidey to screen it

GL: does he know Muse?

MM: no, but he’s paranoid and he’ll get Wade to be paranoid with him, and then they can decide whether its worth giving to DD for verification. He knows Muse.

 Ganke’s head was spinning. His fingers shook with guilt and the thought of Muse’s pale body hunched over a secret, cracked cell phone in a high security prison who knew where.

In Ganke’s head, he smiled wider and wider, until the skin on his cheeks cracked. He dug out scraps of paper and redrew Blindspot—Sam—with gaping holes for eyes and a screaming mouth and he drew dismembered corpses in black lakes and he laughed.

He just kept laughing.

 MM: hey ganke

MM: it’s going to be okay. It’s just a comic. I’m sure AnonTheAsshole is a stalker. They’re not threatening anyone.

MM: Sam can deal with a stalker. And we can too, okay?

 There was a reason that Miles was a hero. Ganke wiped at his eyes and swallowed.

 GL: okay. Thanks for doing that.

MM: 👍🏾

--

 It took a few hours because Spidey and Deadpool had lives outside of being Spidey and Deadpool, but not so long that Ganke ran out of nails to chew.

Miles messaged him back and said that Spidey had read through everything and ‘escalated it.’ This meant that whatever he’d seen had caused him enough concern to take it to DP.

Miles said that he’d get back to Ganke with DP’s verdict as soon as he had it. In the meantime, he’d run the comments by the other Spideypeople and they thought that it most likely wasn’t malevolent but was maybe something to keep an eye on in the meantime. He tacked onto all, somewhat stiltedly, that he had a weird feeling all of the sudden. The pink Spidey’s tone had changed. She’d shut down and gone cagey, which allegedly wasn’t like her at all. Then she’d told the taller guy to DM her and they’d vanished from the chat. Miles wasn’t sure what was going on there or if maybe they knew something about stuff going on that he didn’t, but he wasn’t super comfortable with it.

 GL: crossing my fingers its nothing?

MM: same man, same.

--

 DP escalated it.

Ganke couldn’t stay still in his room. There was no comfortable place to sit or stand or lay. There was nothing to do that would make him stop thinking about everything.

 MM: It’s gonna be fine, man, DD always knows what to do.

 Miles kept saying that for every step of the way, and yet here they were. Double escalated. Ganke wasn’t so sure he even knew what was happening anymore.

That was scary. Miles was supposed to be part of the in-crowd.

 MM: Wade doesn’t think it’s anything that can’t be nipped in the bud.

 That was easy for a contract assassin to say, wasn’t it?

 MM: he says that you and I are fine. Doesn’t see any links there. Waiting on DD for confirmation of tone.

 Hurry up, Daredevil. Your apprentice’s life might be about to take a nosedive into a heap of trash.

--

 Two hours. One text.

 MM: >:/

 Ganke couldn’t contain the bubble of laughter.

 GL: good news?

MM: [image]

 He opened it.

 SC: HANNAH YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE. STOP BEING A BITCH ON MAIN

HC: You can’t tell me what to do

SC: I CAN

HC: Mom he’s being MEAN

SC: Mom she’s scaring children online

HC: I scare children everywhere I go why are these ones special???

SC: Because I said so

HC: that doesn’t fucking work Samuel you’re not her

SC: I am your older brother

SC: your ELDEST brother

HC: YOU AINT SHIT

SC: THEY DON’T COUNT

SC: HALFSIES COUNT

 What.

 MM: so.

MM: she’s not Muse.

MM: Red’s laughing his ass off at all of us for taking this to a level three

GL: wait I don’t understand

MM: Hannah is Sam’s little sister. She’s found a new hobby in our website.

 Blindspot’s little sister was reading the comic??? Holy shit.

 GL: she hates him?

MM: no I’ve been informed that they would literally commit murder for each other but this is how they express love.

 No way. Siblings were wild.

 GL: so we’re good?

MM: [image]

  SC: apologize 🔪

HC: eat my ass

SC: apologize or else

HC: or else what? You gonna come in here and sit on me? Huh? Huh????

SC: I know your email password. All 3 you cycle through. What was his name? Uuuuuuuuuh Jing?

HC: you fucking bastard

SC: Hi Jing, it’s me, Hannah. I’ve been in mad crush with you since sophomore year. Please notice me senpai 😖

HC: Die

SC: kill me

HC: I will.

 The giggles that came this time were a mix of relief and genuine intrigue. This lady read the comic every day. She took the time to scroll through pictures of her brother being an absolute lunatic and fighting with a huge monkey. Then she hopped into that comment box and took him—not Miles, not Ganke, specifically Blindspot--down a peg.

She must miss him a lot. Ganke wondered if this was her way of keeping him in her thoughts.

 MM: I don’t think we’re getting a sorry, man. DD says Sam’s been at this all morning and has been tricked into apologizing himself twice

GL: so you’re saying that she’s an evil genius

MM: idk but she’s def Sam’s main nemesis. I always thought that older siblings got like, rights or something over younger ones, but idk anymore. Angel says this is normal.

GL: do you think she misses him?

 Miles took a long time to respond.

 MM: yeah

 Yeah, Ganke thought so, too.

 GL: should we change Guo tin’s brother’s name to ‘hamish?’

MM: ASDLDSDSFKdsjf

MM: one moment.

MM: sam says yes. Hannah says that she thinks our comic is shit and we need to draw everything uglier

GL: she’s kind of funny

MM: 👀perhaps she would like to be a consultant?

GL: 👀👀👀👀

MM: brb asking

MM: sam says no. Hannah says she’s got better things to do than proofread comics on the internet. She’s also not sorry. She wants that to be clear. DD says that the conversation has moved from English to Chinese and to maybe duck and cover for now. He says all is good tho. Thanks for checking in.

MM: Muse doesn’t use punctuation and talks in riddles, so if we get any of that, we’re supposed to send it to DP right away.

 Oh, nice. That was a relief.

 MM: oh

MM: sam wants to put us in a chat. Can I give him your number?

 Uh, only if he wanted Ganke to hyperventilate.

 GL: sure

 --

  [GL has been added to a Secure Chat]

 It was a page of characters and emojis that were somehow more menacing than Ganke had ever seen them before. Miles popped a little waving hand into the fray, as though testing the waters, but the characters just carried on scrawling around it.

Ganke wasn’t quite sure what to do.

 GL: hi? Are y’all okay?

 There was finally a pause. Then a few shorter lines of characters. And then finally, Blindspot switched from Chinese to English.

 SC: yes we’re FINE. We’re GREAT. Aren’t we, sibling from hell?

HC: who’re you? Why are you in our family chat? This is a family only zone, can’t you read?

SC: God Hannah he’s Korean don’t be a dick

HC: I can’t not be I learned it from you

SC: fair but pretend in the face of company

HC: okay fine. Hello losers.

MM: adksadfadsdfldfsldf

MM: hi

GL: hi?

SC: go on

HC: UGH

HC: fine

HC: I didn’t mean to shit talk your creation. Only my brother.

SC: also a sin, we’ll get to that later

HC: no one cares about you Samuel, stop spreading lies

SC: you first. We both know this is no lie, my white dad cares about me a whole lot

HC: well we can’t all have white dads now can we

SC: don’t be jealous

MM: lol you really call Matt your white dad??

HC: who is this person and how do they know our mutual parent’s name?

SC: this is not a mutual parent situation how many times have we been through this. He’s mine. Get your own.

MM: hi! 👋🏾I’m Bitsy! Spidey no. 4

GL: I’m his friend. He draws the comic. I write it.

HC: oh. nerd children x2

HC: anyways yeah Matt is our dad

SC: ffs

MM: he’s sort of dadly ig.

HC: ?? oho

SC: mind your face. Think about your face. Think about how much you like your face.

HC: little spider, did you not hear?

SC: kay everyone out. We’re done here

MM: hear what?

HC: lol Sammy you didn’t tell them about how Matthew Mcconaughey adopted you in all ways but paperwork?

 Ganke held his phone away from his face as far as it would go.

 MM: …wait are you for real?

SC: no. okay out.

HC: awwww Sammy so shy now. What are you embarrassed about? It’s cute.

SC: Hannah literally shut up I’m not playing

HC: damn okay sorry

MM: can I be honest?

SC: no

MM: I’m going to be anyways: I think we all sorta knew.

SC: …

HC: right?

SC: what does that even mean?

MM: idk, it just felt right, you know? You two are always fussing at each other and red lost his shit that time you got shot. He doesn’t treat you the way he treats the rest of us and we’re his teammates. He doesn’t even treat spidey like he treats you. So like, yeah. It fits.

MM: I’m really happy for you guys.

MM: is there a reason it’s a secret?

 Ganke eased himself back down onto the mattress. This was real. This was like, actual, real information. Something that he and like, four other people in the world now knew.

He kind of wanted to forget it. It didn’t feel right to know.

 SC: I dunno.

HC: if sam has an honest emotion towards anything he has to calculate its weight so he can make space for it in his collection of satellites.

MM: wh

SC: you’re so not funny.

HC: it’s called emotional repression, darling. It’s all the rage in this family.  

MM: oh

MM: so that’s why you and Red get on so well

SC: HHHHHHH

HC: HA

SC: okay but listen his is different, I’ve only seen him cry at his wedding. I cry at least 4 times a week. Obviously under the bed, but that can’t be emotional repression. That’s expression. That’s clearly expression

HC: I can make the old man cry watch me

SC: please don’t I’ll die

MM: awwwww

SC: shut up it doesn’t even matter.

MM: AWWWWWW

SC: LEAVE ALREADY

MM: no I like it here. I want to hear you talk about how much you love your white dad

SC: I don’t. He loves me. I’m fine with this because it results in food, shelter, and continued employment.

HC: uh huh

SC: I’m using him

HC: yeah because you’re like the most manipulative person I know.

SC: thank you

HC: /sarcasm

SC: I know I ignored it.

MM: so wait why do you actually pretend like you hate him tho?

SC: wh

SC: what the fuck am I supposed to do? Just go on up for a cuddle? Have you met Matt? The second someone starts crying, he finds trash to take out to the bins. Hell no. Life is easier for everyone if I stab him with a stick and he kicks my ass in training. It’s fine.

HC: Sam is learning how to be a Manly Man. This is step one.

SC: I’m plenty manly

HC: you’re what mom imagined as manly

SC: which is perfect. That’s all I need.

HC: mama’s boy

SC: must suck to suck, no one’s kid.

 Wow. Ganke had never been more glad that he didn’t have a sister.

 GL: That’s kind of cool, though.

GL: that you and DD are close like that I mean.

GL: Its different from all the other mentor/mentee superheroes we see who like, sort of hate each other.

SC: wh

SC: OH. you mean Peter and Kate. Peter doesn’t actually hate Stark, fyi. And Kate calls Hawkeye the Old bi-weekly to make sure he’s still breathing. It’s actually pretty normal.

MM: he doesn’t mean like that Sam. I mean, like those guys don’t associate with their Olds now that they’re grown up and stuff, but you and DD stick together. It’s like you’re family.

MM: and that’s super cool. Idk if Spidey would ever consider me family. I don’t think he wants that for us.

SC: I?

SC: oh shit

HC: CLARITY ON THIS FINE DAY. What was your name again, tiny spider?

MM: miles

HC: PRAISE BE TO MILES

HC: AN EMOTION WAS HAD

SC: get fucked

HC: An epiphany was obtained!

SC: would you shut up

HC: Something has finally permeated that non-porous, two-inch thick skull of my esteemed eldest brother

SC: I’m your only brother

HC: you’re not

SC: they don’t fucking count

HC: now will you FINALLY invite our mutual dad to hotpot?

SC: Hannah he doesn’t want to come to hot pot we’ve talked about this. it’s too spicy for him.

HC: I’ll make it 1/3 less spicy

SC: that’s still too spicy

HC: I’ll make it 2/5 less spicy

SC: 3/5

HC: listen

HC: I have all this fucking equipment that SOMEONE left here callously

MM: what’s hotpot?

SC: 👀

HC: 👀

GL: 👀

SC: well fuck

HC: EYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY

GL: have we never taken you with us for hotpot???

MM: no?? is this the sticks?

HC: can be. Where do you live?

SC: Hannah no

HC: Hannah yes. We’ll make one here. You’ll make one there.

SC: do you know how much shit I’ll have to buy? Where are we gonna put it?

HC: this wouldn’t be a problem if you’d taken your goddamn inheritance with you to SF

SC: HHHHHH

MM: you guys are actually being serious?

HC: I am. I am here all on my lonesome. Abandoned by my only kin. I require enrichment.

SC: try doing your fucking homework

HC: did anyone hear something?

MM: lololololol I like you

HC: 😊

SC: wh

SC: oh no. No no no.

SC: you two don’t get to be friends

HC: come here bb pspspspspspsps

MM: I’m here

HC: got ‘im. Let’s have hotpot. Sammy send me resippy. We’ll do it together over video so I don’t fuck it up.

SC: I’ve got to go. This has been traumatizing.

HC: byeeeeeeeeeeee

HC: is he gone? Hell yeah, he’s gone.

HC: hey thanks for making that comic thing. It’s hella rad. He loves it. Mom used to call him Monkey when he was little.

GL: omg aw

HC: ikr? P cute. He misses her a lot so I think it brought back good memories. Anyways, I’m actually going to make hotpot. Come over and have some with me, it’s more fun with more people.

MM: you’re not joking

HC: nope, it’s been ages since your whole team has gotten together, right? Ask them to do it. I’m a shit cook, but Sam’ll show us how not to screw it up. And he’s playin’, he’s totally down to hang out with us. We never had more than three people. It’ll be new. Exciting. Enriching even.

MM: are you secretly a nice person, Hannah?

HC: the fuck do you mean ‘secret’??? I’m a delight.

MM: Okay I’ll ask the team and my mom

MM: ganke?

HC: 👀

 That—

Sounded kind of nice?

 GL: I’ll ask my mom.

HC: nice. You can tell them that it’s a friends dinner or whatever. Idc. I promise I’m not going to kidnap and murder you. I’ve got like, class and work and shit. I don’t have time for that.

MM: 👍🏾

GL: 👍🏼

HC: great here I’ll message you my number. This is legit our sibs chat so Sam’ll freak if you’re still here when he gets back.

MM: thank you! And sorry for thinking you were muse!!

GL: yeah that too

HC: lol np ttyl                                    

 That…had really just happened, hadn’t it?

Ganke needed to sit down even though he was already sitting down.

 GL: they’re so nice???

MM: ikr?

GL: are you actually going to ask your mom?

MM: Im gonna ask BT if its cool first. Then yeah. Why not? Our team really hasn’t gotten together in a minute. Everyone’s been super busy. It would be a nice change of pace, and if everyone brings smth then Hannah doesn’t have to pay for anything.

MM: ah, Sam says it’s okay. He says sorry his sister is weird and that he’ll make sure she doesn’t poison us.

GL: I kind of love her

MM: same

MM: okay will check in with the others. Talk to you later.

GL: yeah see you later

 Damn, at this rate, Ganke’s family was going to triple in size, and all thanks to a comic.

Before he left for downstairs, he made a note to make Guo tin’s brother snarkier.

[lucrezia-thoughts]

Heating Up

Colder

Pairing: Max Phillips x gn!Reader (gender neutral)

Warning(s): 18 +,  SMUT, sex, fingering, vampires, blood, bottom reader...

Summary: This was a bit like how you expected your wedding night to go…

Link to Master List

You took deep breaths to calm your frantically beating heart as you stood naked in front of the bed you shared with your husband, Max Phillips. Your husband...that thought alone sent your pulse soaring higher. When you woke up that morning, Max had still been your fiancé, but now he was your husband. You looked down at the simple platinum band that now adorned your left ring finger and smiled as you remembered the feel of Max slipping it on you just a few short hours ago.

The guest list had just consisted of you, Max, and the officiant that he'd paid an exorbitant amount of money too in order to marry you at midnight so you could exchange your vows outside like you'd always dreamed. After the ceremony, Max took you to your favorite restaurant (that he'd also paid a ludicrous amount of money to stay open) so you could have your favorite meal. Once dinner was over, he brought you back home and told you to let him know when you were ready. When you were ready...but how would you know?

You sighed as you realized all you'd managed to accomplish in your efforts to calm down was to send your blood pumping harder and faster through your veins. Rubbing your hands over your face, you shut your eyes and decided to bite the bullet. "Max?" You called out and felt his cool naked body pressing against you almost immediately.

His hands slid around your waist and one moved up your chest to turn your head to face him. "Sweetheart..." He whispered against your lips as he kissed you slowly. You opened your mouth to him as he deepened the kiss and his left hand, that had been on your waist, slipped down between your legs. One of his feet urged you to open your legs further for him and you eagerly complied as he worked your body open. You moaned at the feeling of his wedding ring pressing against you as he fingered you.

"Always so tight-" Max grinned against the back of your neck and you moaned softly as he added another finger. "-and all mine."

"All yours." You breathed as he licked and nipped at your shoulder.

"Are you sure you want this, sweetheart?" He asked, pulling back from your body to allow you to think clearly.

You couldn't hold back your whine when he stepped away, but you knew he wanted you to be absolutely certain before he kept going. Taking a deep breath, you waited a moment before you nodded your head. "Yes, Max. I want to be with you.  Forever."

"Get on the bed, sweetheart." He whispered and you eagerly complied, crawling up to the middle of the bed before you stopped to look over your shoulder.

"Max?" You asked when you didn't feel him following you.

"Just admiring the view." He smirked and was on the bed with you in a blink. He pulled you up so that your back was pressed against his front. He rubbed his nose up the column of your throat as he lined himself up and pushed into you.

"Max..." You moaned as he filled you slowly, making sure you felt everything. He stilled for a moment once he was fully sheathed inside of you to enjoy your warmth. You reached back and guided his head over your shoulder so you could kiss him as he started to move his hips.

It was the slowest he'd ever made love to you and you knew, in his own way, he was getting ready too. He wrapped his arms around your waist to pull you closer and you clenched your body around him. You heard him growl before he began thrusting harder and deeper.

You bit your lip as you felt the first signs of your orgasm building in your stomach and reached back to grip at his hip. "I'm right here, sweetheart...just tell me when you're getting close." He murmured against your skin as he kissed his way across your shoulders. You nodded your head and gasped when he changed the angle of his thrusting.

You shut your eyes and let the sensations wash over you. The feel of his cock moving inside of you. The feel of his fingers stroking the skin of your stomach. The warmth that his ring absorbed from your body when he fingered you. The brush of his lips as he focused his attention on the tender flesh of your throat. The feeling of his tongue tracing a vein in your neck.

"Max..." Your voice started to shake as the knot in your stomach tightened.

"Keep your eyes closed, sweetheart." He whispered and he slid his hand down from your waist to play with you and bring you closer to the edge.

"Please..." You whined as you started to tremble and he turned your head to press a hard kiss to your lips.

"I love you." He moaned as you tightened around him.

"I love you." You breathed in return but it turned into a scream when he struck the spot inside you that sent you toppling over the edge into orgasm and his fangs pierced the thin flesh of your throat.

Your body couldn't focus, too many competing sensations fighting for dominance at the same time. The pleasure from your orgasm. The pain from the bite. The fullness from him spilling into you. Your entire body locked up and the scream died in your throat as ice radiated through your blood from the bite on your neck.

This was it. The end.

Until it wasn't. The ice melted and you felt just like you had before...only more. Everything was sharper. The smell of sex that clung to the air. The feeling of Max still softening inside you. The slight scratch from his fangs that hadn't yet retracted as he licked at your neck. The warmth from his arms around you...wait...warmth?

"Max?" You furrowed your brow as you turned to look at him. How had he gotten more handsome in the last five minutes? Something wasn't right.

"I can hear you over thinking, sweetheart." He chuckled as he pulled out and turned you around to face him.

"Something's not right, Max..." You started, but he cut you off with a groan.

"Immortality suits you, sweetheart." He reached up to cup your chin and pull you into a deep kiss. You moaned loudly as he licked into your mouth and you tasted something incredible.

"Max...mmmmm...what is that?" You licked your lips as you broke the kiss and he smirked at you.

"That's you, sweetheart." He explained and leaned forward to kiss you again. You reached up to thread your fingers through his hair as you deepened the kiss and chased the taste.

Max pulled back after a few minutes and chuckled when you growled. "There's my little vampire."

The word brought your thoughts back in focus. "Am I? Did it work? And how are you so warm?" You rattled off questions and Max just smiled as he pulled you against him.

"You're a vampire, sweetheart." He confirmed, tugging you into a quick kiss so he could flick his tongue against your fangs. "And I'm only warm to you because you're finally colder than me."

A/N: I wrote the first part for the amazing @lunasblipsandblurbs  and the idea wouldn’t leave me alone, so it became a series! It’s based on an idea from @thekingofthegoats  that I expanded on with their help!! Now, this story is complete!! As always, comments and feedback are love!!

[bigfan-fanfic]

I’m curious. Of all the men you write for, which one, or ones, would you most want to be with in real life?

Oof, that's a good one! Okay, while I find most of the guys I write for hot, here's the ones on my dateable irl list. If I missed anyone, y'all can ask and I'll rate! ;)

I've bolded and colored in the 10/10s because it's a long list and you might wanna just cut to the chase

Obi-Wan Kenobi (Star Wars) - jk, I can't deal with the Jedi and their hypocrisy. But damnnnnn Ewan McGregor is FINE and Obi-Wan is such a charmer. - N/A

Benny Lafitte (Supernatural) - Hot buff vampire with a killer smile? Would protect me through anything? Not unhealthily codependent with his brother? Yes please. - 6/10 Would Date

Professor Kukui (Pokemon) - Yes please. Happy-go-lucky scientist who moonlights as a wrestler and has the body too? Yay. -9/10 Would Date - gotta dock him for being happily married. Damn. - N/A.

Link (The Legend of Zelda) - My first fictional husband. Yes to the sense of humor, the protectiveness, the love! Although a little bit quiet, poor lad. - 7/10 Would Date

Prince Sidon (The Legend of Zelda) - Look, I'm no monsterfucker, but Prince Sidon believes in me. You think I'm not gonna fall for that kind of validation??? - 10/10 Would Date.

Peeta Mellark (The Hunger Games) - Yay for cute soft baker man. I love him and want to protecc. But trauma plus his huge torch for Katniss is gonna make it tough. - 6/10 would date.

Markus (Detroit Become Human) - Handsome and just utterly noble and awesome. Parkouring genius and artist while being just unbelievably rational and emotional all at once. I love him. This android has stolen my heart. - 10/10 Would Date

Hank Anderson - Just kidding. Trying to see if y'all were paying attention

Nathan Drake (Uncharted) - Snarky adventure husband gets all the support for me. Just come home alive, ready for snuggles, and bring home the treasure bacon! Love you, babe. - 9/10 Would Date

Soren (The Dragon Prince) - I love this man. I love his relationship with his sister. I love his nobility and honor even when it's hard. I even love his terrible poetry. most of all, I feel you, man. I want a bread sandwich too. That dad, though. Ugh. - 7/10 Would Date

Gren (The Dragon Prince) - Yayyyyy. Gren, my positive pumpkin man. I love your freckles and cheer and the way you know sign language. Protect me and give kisses! - 9/10 Would Date

Chrom (Fire Emblem) - Adorkable prince of Ylisse, why wouldn't you let my male Robin romance you? You've got a cute personality, you're sweet and clumsy, and you've got that one arm all bared for flexin'! Yum. Pack that up and give me two! - 8/10 Would Date

Odin/Owain (Fire Emblem) - This drama queen is a storyteller and a bisexual mess if I ever saw one, and I am HERE for it. I will pretend with you all day, Odin. Teach me magic and tell me of your undying love for me in as flowery language as you want! - 9/10 Would Date

Alistair Theirin (Dragon Age) - Best man in Thedas right here. I love him. I love his dorkiness. I love that he's not afraid to admit he'd rather someone else lead. I love how he's so young but not afraid to take up a cause he believes in. Total king. Will marry. - 10/10 Would Date

Percy Jackson (Percy Jackson) - Those of you who know me might think Percy's too much of a goofball and a dope. Well, you're wrong. I love Percy and I will gladly be his escape from all things mythological while also knowing enough about Greek myth to help him out - 7.5/10 Would Date

Jason Grace (Percy Jackson) - Okay, bud. Jason can be a little bland, I admit. But I still love him for his perseverance and dedication to his friends. I'd love to get to know him better. - 7/10 Would Date

Sokka (ATLA) - Okay, he grew on me after a while and now I love. Let's talk strategy, Sokka. Let me laugh at your horrible jokes - 6/10 Would Date

Haru (ATLA) - I hate the mustache but I love the man behind it - 7/10 Would Date

Hakoda (ATLA) - Mmmm. Sokka and Katara's dad was a SNACK. - 8/10 Would Date

Bolin (LOK) - This himbo was a cutie and I'm lying if I ever say I didn't enjoy seeing him in the Nuktuk costume. Or ripping his sleeves off. Or kidnapped by the Equalists. Just yay, Bolin, and as a bonus, Pabu! - 10/10 Would Date

Tonraq (LOK) - If Hakoda was a snack, Tonraq is a full course meal - look at the size of the man. MMMMM I love him. Waterbender and all around HUNK. And so caring! - 10/10 Would Date and I'm not even gonna dock him for being happily married to Korra's mom

Thor (Marvel) - Chris Hemsworth with long hair and ultimate himbo personality. Nuff said. 10/10 Would Date

Peter Parker (Marvel) - I love this nerd. 10/10 Would... not date because the people Peter Parker dates have a curious trend of dying horribly. Looking at you Gwen Stacy. I like my neck the way it is, so... sorry, Pete.

Pietro Maximoff (Marvel) - We didn't get enough time with this speedy snack. I like his charm and confidence and care for his sister. I wish he'd have at least gotten a real shirtless scene before he died. 8/10 Would Resurrect and Date

Bucky Barnes (Marvel) - Much like Peeta, the trauma is gonna be hard to help with, but I'm willing to make it work. 6.5/10 Would Date

Dick Grayson (DC) - Yes please. Positive, outgoing, friendly, but above all deeply caring and sweet. He's acrobatic and fun, but I feel like he'd love to just relax at home. - 9/10 Would Date

Barry Allen (DC) - Ball of sunshine in nerdy human form. I don't know what more anyone would want in a boyfriend. - 8/10 Would Date

Kyle Rayner (DC) - Admittedly, I don't know all that much about Kyle. But he seems chill and cool and way better than all the other Green Lanterns besides Alan Scott because initially he wasn't affiliated with the Corps so he wasn't a Space Cop. - 7/10 Would Date

Clark Kent (DC) - He's just.... super. And sweet. Yay. 10/10 Would Date

[middleearthpixie]

In Time ~ Chapter Twenty-Two

Summary: Elrond throws an engagement ball for Thorin and Amara, and later, she has a something special for Thorin

Pairing: Thorin Oakenshield/Amara of Rivendell (female OC)

Characters: Thorin, Amara, Bilbo, the Company, Elrond, et al

Rating: T

Warnings: None

Word Count: 4,235

Khudal Translation: Nalish - forever

Ish kakfê ai-‘d-dûr-rugnal ~ May my excrement be poured upon the naked-jawed ones.

Tagging: @i-did-not-mean-to @lathalea @tschrist1

As dusk fell, the western lawns, where Rivendell’s ballroom opened to, became a sea of fairly lights to bathe the entire area in soft gold light. The row of doors had been thrown open, white runners laid through each entry out to the white canopy that had been set up beneath a star-spangled sky of inky black velvet.

Amara couldn’t remember the last time Rivendell seemed so very magical. She tucked her arm through Thorin’s as they made their way across the ballroom—also awash in fairly lights, garlands of red and white roses, beautiful yellow daffodils, fiery orange gladiolus, kingsfoil, and baby’s breath had been hung along the perimeter of the ballroom and canopy—she couldn’t help but gaze at him from the corner of her eye, for she’d never seen a man as handsome as her dwarf looked that night. He was dressed in black trousers and a dark gray henley, whose sleeves he’d shoved up practically to his elbows, and he looked almost good enough to eat.

She linked her fingers with his and squeezed his hand as they stepped outside. “I do believe Lord Elrond has outdone himself this evening.”

Thorin turned toward her. “He’s not the only one. Have I mentioned you look stunning, amrâlimê?”

She blushed. She felt the heat rise in her cheeks and knew she’d chosen wisely with the elegant sleeveless silk gown in deep purple. It was one of her favorites and one she only wore on special of occasions. Her betrothal ball counted as the most special of them all.

“Thank you.”

“Thanking me?” He paused to face her. “For speaking the truth?”

Three of the four buttons of his henley were undone and she laid her hand against the warm vee of skin and crisp dark hair bared by it. “This from the same dwarf who told me he should have died on an ice floe, that he didn’t care if he lived or died. The one who told me ish kakfê ai-‘d-dûr-rugnal?”

He covered her hand with his. “For the first time in over sixty years, I am happy. And I apologized for that, didn’t I?”

She met his gaze, violet eyes locking with blue, and without thinking, she leaned in to brush his lips with hers. “I’m glad to see you happy, amrâlimê.”

That brought a smile to his lips and his eyes practically sparkled in the glow of the fairy lights. “I’d forgotten what it felt like, to be happy, Amara. And I have you to thank for that.”

“I was only doing my job.”

Music floated out and with a wink, Thorin backed out into the middle of the canopy without letting go of her hand. Then, he slid an arm about her waist and drew her flush against him. “Doing your job?” he asked, swaying gently to the music. “How many other patients have you slept with?”

“Thorin!”

His laugh rang out across the floor, loud and booming and enough to make every head turn in their direction. Sliding his other arm about her, he said, “I tease, love.” His smile faded. “Unless, you’ve actually done that.”

She shook her head, winding her arms about his neck. “You are the first, Thorin Oakenshield.”

“And the last.”

“And the last.”

He bent toward her and when their lips met, she threaded her fingers through his hair, let her fingernails brush along his nape, and smiled as he shivered against her. He broke the kiss, nuzzling her as he whispered, “I wish we were alone, givashel.”

“Mmmmm…” Her eyes grew heavy as his lips swept along her neck, his hair silky soft as it skimmed her cheek. “In time, love,” she whispered back. “In time.”

His chuckle came warm upon her skin. “How did I know you’d say that?”

She leaned in to nuzzle him as well. “You know me well already, dwarf.”

The music faded and Elrond came out onto his dais and held up his hands. Thorin pulled away, but kept her wrapped in his arms, which was fine by Amara. Elrond’s gaze alit on them and she smiled, resting her head against Thorin’s broad chest.

“Thank you all, for coming out this evening to celebrate this joyous occasion,” Elrond began, smiling at her and Thorin. “As you all recall, Thorin Oakenshield and his nephews, Fili and Kili, were all gravely wounded at Ravenhill during the Battle of the Five Armies. Which meant our Amara had her hands full.”

Laughter rippled through those gathered and Elrond continued, “It was a long recuperation for all three, but Thorin faced several setbacks before Amara pronounced him healthy once more. And I know I should frown upon the fact that he was her patient, but seeing them together, seeing how happy they both are,” he gestured to them, his expression turning almost paternal, “it’s difficult to be angry at all. And so, tonight we gather, and raise a goblet of wine, to celebrate the betrothal of Thorin Oakenshield and Amara Erlene. Amara, we wish you and Thorin a long and happy life together, with much love, and many children.”

He raised the goblet in his hand. “To Amara and Thorin!”

Everyone around them lifted their goblets as well and shouted, “To Amara and Thorin!”

She smiled at Thorin. “Maralmizu, Thorin.”

He leaned into her, his lips brushing hers as he whispered, “Maralmizi, Amara.”

The music began again and as he held her once more, Thorin murmured, “We haven’t talked about children, you know.”

“No,” she shook her head, “we haven’t.”

“Would you like them?”

“I have honestly never thought about it until we met,” she said, letting her fingers skim along his hair as they danced. “But, I think I would, yes. And you?”

“I’d resigned myself to the fact that Fili, and then Kili, would be my heirs, that I would never have children of my own.”

“Why? Surely there was some dwarf maid who would sell her soul to bear your children.”

“You flatter me, amrâlimê.” His arms tightened about her. “But not only are there far fewer dwarf women then men, but not all are interested in marrying and of the ones who were? I was not interested in taking any of them as my wife.”

“Why? I mean, I’m not complaining, but I am curious.”

“Because I met a stunningly beautiful elf who thought to drive me mad, first as my healer and then as my lover. And I look forward to spending the rest of my life being driven just as mad by her.”

“I drove you mad because you were a stubborn nag. And I how do I drive you mad now?”

“You make my eyes cross, love.”

“You say that as if it was a bad thing. Is it?”

“Hardly. Do you truly have to ask? And mind you, I never said it was a bad thing.” He winked, then let out a boisterous laugh as he wrapped her in his arms once more. “You may make them cross any time you wish, you know. And if you wish to have children, I am more than willing to try to give them to you.”

“I would love you to do so, Mr. Oakenshield. I’m curious as to what a child of ours would look like.”

“They will be beautiful,” he told her. “Unless they’re boys, in which case, they’ll be strong warriors.”

“Are you suggesting a daughter couldn’t be? Remember, I took two arrows meant for you, and took out quite a few orcs before they hit me.”

To her surprise a hint of color rose above the line of his beard. “You have me there, Amara. Forgive me.”

“If we have sons, they learn to fight and if we have daughters, they will as well. But for now, let’s concentrate on a wedding first.”

“Agreed. But, once that is out of the way…” He grinned and wiggled his eyebrows at her. “Babies, it is.”

She rolled her eyes, but in all honesty, she enjoyed seeing him so lighthearted. As she glanced about and saw that everyone in the Company from Bilbo to Gandalf, all smiled in their direction, she knew she wasn’t the only one.

Amara spotted Fili and Kili sitting at a table off in a corner and crossed over to to sink into the chair next to Fili. “You both look so serious,” she said by way of greeting. “Is something the matter?”

Fili shook his head. “Not really the matter, no. This is something I never thought I’d see—Thorin actually smiling and enjoying himself.”

Kili tossed his dark hair out of his eyes in a motion so very similar to what she’d seen Thorin do before, and she wondered if either one of them knew how much like him they were in so many ways. Kili’s dark eyes were direct as his gaze met hers. “It’s unusual, to say the least. What did you do to him?”

Fili nudged him. “He asked her to marry him. It had to be something amazing.”

“I figured as much.” Kili nodded. “But what I don’t understand, is why you said yes.”

She chuckled. “I’ve grown rather fond of him, I suppose. Of all of you, really. But especially him.”

“I told you to say something, to speak up,” Kili said, shooting a look at Fili. “If you’d listened, we’d probably be celebrating the two of you instead. But did you listen? You did not.”

Amara caught herself before her jaw went slack at this revelation, while Fili’s cheeks went scarlet above his beard. In turn, he punched Kili in the upper arm, growling, “At least I can tell the difference between elf women and elf men.”

Now it was Kili’s turn to blush and she wondered what had happened between him and a he-elf and when it happened. He punched his brother back and Amara rose from her chair and moved around to get between them, a hand on each brother’s arm. “Enough, both of you. There will be no fighting this evening.”

Fili shoved up from his chair. “You have a big mouth, Kili.”

As he stalked off, she turned to Kili, who shrugged and said, “He’s a sensitive fool.”

“Most men are to some degree.”

“He’s just kicking himself for not speaking up sooner.”

She smiled. All three of them were far too handsome for their own good, but she couldn’t quite see herself with anyone other than Thorin. “He will find someone.” She turned back to him. “Just as you found your Tauriel.”

A hint of color came to his cheeks. “She saved my life twice, you know. Twice. And now I have to convince Thorin to let me stop when we pass by Mirkwood. If nothing else, I must thank her for what she did.”

She glanced over her shoulder at Thorin, who sat with Gandalf, and then turned to smile at Kili. “I don’t think that will be a problem. He knows you owe her a debt of gratitude.”

“I owe you one as well, Amara. We all three owe you one. Without you, not one of us would be here now.”

“No,” she shook her head, “not a one of you owes me a thing. I did what I do. And I am thankful that I had the skills and the staff to care for all three of you.”

“So am I,” he said with a grin.

“I’ll wager you are.” She reached over to cover his hand with hers.

He drew in a deep breath, glanced over at Thorin, and said, “It’s good, you know, seeing him this happy. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him smile as much as he has these last days. And back in Erebor, we’d come so close to losing him completely. So, again, thank you. For all of it.”

“Oh, you are so very welcome.” She gave his hand a squeeze. “He’s not necessarily the easiest person to love, but he is worth the aggravation that comes with loving him.”

“Don’t I know it.” Kili looked up and said, “I’ll go apologize to Fili. Hopefully he won’t go scarlet the next time he sees you. Excuse me.”

“Of course.” She smiled as he rose and skirted the table to go find Fili.

With a low sigh, she sat back, and as she did, Gandalf rose to leave Thorin to his own devices. She rose to go over to him, only to be intercepted by Bofur, who smiled and said, “May I have a dance, Miss Amara?”

“Of course.” She returned his smile, laid her hand in his, and allowed him to escort her out onto the dance floor.

“It is so nice to see you smiling.”

Thorin sat back in his chair as Bilbo dropped into the chair beside him. “It is nice to have reason to smile,” he replied, lifting his goblet of mead.

Bilbo lifted his own goblet. His eyes were red and glassy, and Thorin wondered how much mead he’d had. Of course, Thorin himself felt no pain, either, although he held his liquor far better than the hobbit, it seemed. “To smiling,” Bilbo proclaimed grandly.

Thorin chuckled. “That came out as one word, I’ll have you know.”

Bilbo threw back his head and let out a bark of laughter. “I’ve had a bit too much, I’m afraid. But,” he tried to force his features into a stern expression, but couldn’t quite get there, “I am allowed to, as one nursing a broken heart.”

Thorin sipped the sweet mead, then lowered his goblet to say, “I apologize if I’ve hurt you again, Master Baggins. But surely you do not begrudge me Amara.” He spotted her at the table with Kili and Fili, laughing at something one of them said. Her pearly white teeth flashed in the fairy lights, and her laughter was pure silver as it pealed out.

“I do not, of course. But, I am jealous.”

Thorin turned back to him. “Have more mead and you will forget all about that.”

“No,” Bilbo waved a forefinger at him, “no, I will not. I will return to the Shire and to my life but I will never forget any of this. Nor do I wish to. I am happy for you. I want you to know that.”

Thorin leaned over and slung his arm about Bilbo’s neck. Leaning closer still, he said, “Can I tell you a secret?”

“Absolutely.”

“I knew I was going to marry her the first time I kissed her. Over there,” he pointed out toward the eastern lawns, where the now familiar fountains rushed unoccupied by dwarves. “We were talking about fireflies and I—I just kissed her and I knew.”

“That is wonderful.”

Thorin grinned at the dryness in his voice. “I beg your pardon. I should watch what I say.”

“No, no, you shouldn’t. As I said, I’m happy for you.”

From the corner of his eye, Thorin saw Bofur cross over to where Amara now sat alone, and held out a hand to her, who accepted and allowed him to draw her up. A hint of smoked jealousy swirled through him as she accompanied Bofur to the dance floor and he slid an arm about her waist.

“They are only dancing, Thorin,” Bilbo said softly.

He knew that, of course, but that didn’t mean he had like another man’s hands on his intended, even if that other man was Bofur. Amara smiled at something he said, and the jealousy worsened. It kinked in his belly almost as badly as Azog’s blade had pierced it.

His first instinct was to storm out there and knock Bofur’s hands from her. But, he thought better of it as Amara glanced at him over Bofur’s shoulder and winked. That was enough to sweep most of the jealousy away.

Still, he rose and said, “Excuse me,” to Bilbo before crossing over to Bofur and Amara as the music sped up once more. True, it was flute and harp music, and as such not exactly the most upbeat of tempos. Which is why he caught Bofur by the arm and said, “We need you to liven this party up.”

Bofur smiled. “You got it!”

With that, he leaped up onto the nearest table and burst into a raucous song with an equally raucous beat and Thorin caught Amara around the waist from behind. “It’s time I teach you to dance how we dwarves dance.”

“Is that so, Mr. Oakenshield?”

“Absolutely.” He slid his hands down along her arms and covered her hands with his, linking his fingers with hers. Step by step, he showed her a traditional dwarf dance, one that was very simple.

Amara’s laughter rang out in all its silver beauty as she stumbled over his left foot, although he caught her before she fell entirely. The dwarves all stomped their feet in time with Bofur and Thorin let himself get caught up in the rhythm as well. Amara leaned back into him and without thinking, he wrapped his arms about her, pulled her flush against his chest, and let his lips graze her ear as he whispered, “Maralmizi.”

She leaned her head back against him. “Maralmizu.”

Then, as Bofur launched into the next verse, Amara pulled away from him, faced him, and mirrored him through the steps he’d just taught her. She was good enough that he actually stopped to just watch, and when she winked, he knew her stumble wasn’t genuine.

She stomped her way toward him, then backed away, and as she did, Bofur jumped down between her and Thorin and joined in without missing a beat. One by one, each dwarf got to his feet and their circle expanded and it reminded Thorin of the days before Smaug, when Erebor thrived. He’d forgotten what it was like to feel as carefree and truly happy as he did at that moment and as he watched Amara and Dwalin—who actually smiled— he realized that for the first time in forever, he could actually look forward to what the future held, because it was far brighter now than it had ever been.

****

The party went on well into the night, with more elves coming out onto the dance floor and not only showed off their own moves, but in the good spirit of the evening, learned a few dwarf dances and taught the dwarves the elvish ones in return.

Amara spied Thorin on the far side of the floor, in conversation with Elrond and Gandalf and she crossed over to creep up behind him and slid her arms about his waist. “Would anyone mind if I stole this dwarf for a while?”

Elrond smiled and shook his head. “Absolutely not, Amara. We were just discussing how many ponies you will need when you take your leave come the morning. It’s nothing that cannot wait.”

She tightened her arms about Thorin’s waist. “Will you walk with me, Thorin?”

He peered at her over his left shoulder. “Amrâlimê, I will walk with you any time and anywhere you wish.”

“Good.” She came around to hold her hand out to him, smiling at him as he linked his fingers with hers.

She led him away from the canopy, away from the party, back down along the lawns toward the eastern lawn and the fountain. The night wind came soft against her cheeks, ruffled through her hair, which she’d left loose and flowing down her back for the night. The rush of water and the chirps of the crickets joined that soft whisper of wind as the only sounds, as even the sounds of the party died away.

“What is on your mind?” Thorin tugged on her hand to halt her stride and when she turned to look at him, the clouds that had been before the moon moved on and moonbeams bathed him in silver. His eyes glittered, the runes and ornaments in his hair glinted, and without thinking, she closed the gap between them to catch the braid before his right ear.

“I’ve been thinking,” she said, letting the smooth braid slip from her grasp, “about what I wanted to braid into your hair. And I think I found the perfect thing.”

His eyes softened as they held hers. “I thought you’d forgotten about that.”

“I haven’t, but unlike dwarves, elves do not hold our hair in any particular esteem, so this custom is foreign to me. But, I know the important your people place on it, so I wanted what I chose to as close to perfect as it possibly could.”

“Amara, it doesn’t have to be perfect.”

“Hush because of course it does.” She opened her small velvet bag and rooted about for a moment before finding the even smaller, velvet bag. She unknotted the cord to open it and carefully turned it over her other palm.

She tucked the smaller velvet bag back and held up the amethyst crystal she’d dumped out of it. “When I first began my journey to be a Healer, I had no confidence in my ability. I was scared of everything and I told you what happened with Ilyana.”

“You did,” he nodded, “but, I fail—”

She cupped her free hand over his mouth. “Hush, Thorin. It will make sense in but a minute, I promise.”

His eyes softened and he nodded, so she lowered her hand to continue. “Ilyana knew what little confidence I had and so she gave this to me under the guise that it was filled with elf magic, but it would only work if I believed it would.”

She held it up to the moonlight, and as she studied the amethyst, what looked like smoke began swirling slowly through the stone’s center. It never grew, but never faded, and always looked very much alive.

“I wore it on a chain around my neck for a very long time, until an unruly patient grabbed hold of it and broke the chain on me. Since then, it’s been in this bag, in my desk.” She lifted her eyes to his. “It was Ilyana’s way of showing her faith in me, in making sure I knew she believed in me. And I would like it very much if I could give this to you. So you know that no matter what you think, I believe in you and think you ought to believe in yourself just as much.”

He took the amethyst from her, and it looked so very comical in his huge hand. “Are you certain?”

“I am. You and I have talked so much about what happened at Ravenhill and what happened at Erebor when you were sick, and I hear the regret in your voice, the disbelief that these men would continue to respect and love you the way they do and I hope this serves as a reminder that you are so much more than you think you are.”

“You do realize,” he said, his voice low and husky, “that once you do this, you have no choice but to marry me.”

“As if I’d change my mind about that.” She reached over to catch a handful of his thick, wavy hair before his left ear. “Would this be acceptable?”

“Wherever you wish to braid is fine,” he replied softly, holding out the crystal for her.

She offered up a smile as her hands trembled. “I’m a little nervous about this.”

“Don’t be,” he told her, shaking his head, “for you are doing fine.”

Her fingers, usually so nimble, refused to behave at first and it took her three tries before she was able to start a decent plait. Her hands still trembled as he held her gaze, his blue eyes serious and dark, but as she moved down toward the ends of the hank she held, it became easier and when she wove in the crystal and secured it, she realized the enormity of the moment. Her throat tightened, her eyes misted over, and as she let the braid slip through her fingers, she whispered, “Nalish.”

“You know what nalish means?”

She nodded and lifted her gaze to his. “Forever.”

His eyes searched hers, his hands came to rest on her hips. She was slightly taller than he was, but that didn’t matter as those fingers on her hips tightened and he leaned in. She met his kiss, sliding her arms about his neck as she did so, winding her fingers into his soft hair.

Then, with a smile, she pulled away from him and crossed to the fountain, where she turned back to him, kicked off her shoes, then reached behind her to unfasten her dress. His eyes darkened as the silk spilled from her and she carefully eased up onto the top of the fountain. Gesturing to him with her forefinger, she purred, “I do believe you mentioned something to me when Kenia was cleaning my wounds about making love in this waterfall?”

He just stared for a long moment, then, with a sly smile, he tugged his henley over his head, kicked off his boots and trousers, and practically vaulted over the side of the fountain. Water sloshed as he swept her into his arms and minutes later, her soft cry of delight mingled with the whisper of the wind, the chirp of the crickets, and the gentle rush of water.

[babbushka]

Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy

Flip Zimmerman x Reader

3k; N S F W (sex at the station/semi-public sex, spanking, nudity, rope, creampie, name calling, dirty talk, praise kink, rough fast and dirty PIV sex, fingering, titty fixation, desk sex, come feeding)

Part of the Flip Zimmerman NSFW Alphabet // Also available on AO3!

                                                      -----------------

“I hate this.” Flip grumbles under his breath for what has to be the hundredth time, as Ron snaps another photo and winds up the film.

He’s down in the bowels of the CSPD, practically naked, wearing nothing but a pair of assless chaps and a cowboy hat, turning towards the camera and trying his damnedest to pose without looking like a total joke. Jimmy’s leaning against the wall of the impromptu photo studio, Ron’s got the camera and the lights all set up, and he hates this.

“No you don’t, or else you wouldn’t be doing it.” Jimmy points out with a little flick of ash off the butt of his cigarette, and he scowls, because despite Flip’s sour mood, Jimmy’s right. He agreed to this of his own volition, and he wasn’t backing out now.

“C’mon Zimmerman, it’s for a good cause.” Ron agrees in his practical cheerful way, and Flip shoots him a glare because he doesn’t need to be reminded that the whole of Colorado Springs is going to see his bare ass.

“Rookie I don’t care what it’s for, if (Y/N) sees me like this – ” He starts, exasperated for a moment, right when the door to this little studio opens, and in you walk.

“Sees you like what honey?” You ask, not looking up at him yet, fiddling with the door still to get it to close properly. Jimmy and Ron stifle a laugh awaiting your reaction, and they’re not disappointed when you finally do look up and see Flip standing there, cheeks out for the camera in his cowboy getup. Your eyebrows shoot up and a huge grin creeps across your face as you appraise him with, “Ohhhh like that.”

Flip blushes straight down to his belly button when you saunter up to him. He’s really naked, you’re surprised to see, he’s not got anything to cover up his cock at all. You glance around at where Ron and Jimmy are still chuckling into their palms as your husband sweats in front of you, and you kiss his cheek sweetly.

“Do you need me to leave? I can go flirt with the chief or something for a while.” You bat your lashes at him, making Flip roll his eyes and grumble to himself before getting his arms around you.

“No – for fuck’s sake, c’mere.” He scowls, grasping tightly at your waist, making you laugh as he pulls you flush to his hard-muscled stomach, your arms wrapping around his big broad shoulders.

“Is that a cattle prod or are you just happy to see me?” You grin, entirely too cheeky, and the boys burst into snickers.

Your mouth starts to water though, because though they can’t see with the way you’re pressed up against him, Flip’s cock really is big, and it’s hard and nudging at your thigh, a long thick line that makes you have to swallow hard. You want them to leave so that you can have your man all to yourself, so you can have that cock to yourself.

“I hate you.” Flip leans down to kiss you, brushes his nose against yours as his hands dig into the flesh right on your hips, holding you close.

“Mhm I can tell.” You smile against his lips, opening up your mouth for him, letting his tongue slide against yours as your fingers curl through the dark brown hair that’s so soft and so thick right at the nape of his neck.

You both lose yourself in one another so quickly, that you nearly forget that you’re at the station at all, forget that Ron and Jimmy are right there watching. You don’t mind, you don’t care if you’ve got an audience – let them look, as long as you’re getting your fill of your man, your husband.

“Take your top off!” Jimmy whistles playfully, and though you laugh, it snaps Flip out of kissing you and he turns around sharply to jab a finger in his best friend’s direction.

“Fuckin’ watch it.” Flip hisses, possessive enough that you can feel your pussy flutter, and Jimmy only puts his hands up in playful surrender.

You pull away from Flip for a little bit and he immediately turns back to face the wall so that his buddies don’t see the raging erection he’s sporting. He couldn’t even cover that thing with both his baseball mitts if he tried, not when it was hard like this.

“Mm, you know what’s missing?” You ask as you walk over to where you set your purse down by the door.

Jimmy and Ron only shrug and shake their heads, but then you fish out some red lipstick and apply it carefully to your mouth, before winking at them and going back over to where Flip’s waiting patiently for you to – kiss his ass?

You try your best not to smile as he turns around and glares at you for being such a pretty accomplice, as you press a smacking kiss right to his ass-cheek, the absolutely rock solid roundest most deceivingly firm cheek in the entire world, as you always said.  

“Oh now it’s a party.” Ron says with a handsome grin, and you weren’t sure that Flip could scowl any darker than he was in that moment, making you laugh.

“You know I knew you guys got creative with your undercover disguises but I’m not so sure this is the most workplace appropriate.” You dust off your knees and tease playfully, trying to get your Philly into a better mood. He was always so serious, all the time, he needed to lighten up a little so you wink, “Unless you’re going to a strip club, in which case, I better get to come.”

“No it’s – it’s a calendar, for charity. We’ve got to beat the fuckin’ firemen.” He huffs out, and ohh that explains it. Flip’s had beef with the fire department for as long as he’d been working with the station, you understood the stakes now.

“Everyone loves the shit out of sexy firemen.” Ron nods in agreement.

“Are you guys in it too?” You ask him, directing the question to Jimmy too, who smiles and pops his collar.

“You bet baby, Flip’s the last one we’ve got to shoot because he keeps putting it off.” Your friend explains and you turn your charms back onto your husband, grinning at how so completely Flip he could be.

“Aw be a good sport honey.” You go back over to him, slipping and sliding your hands all across his big firm pecs, getting him warmed up, getting him to melt.

“Maybe he just needs a little…motivation.” Ron asks with the camera ready, and Flip only groans, smacks a hand onto his face and shakes his head.

“I’m going to kill everyone here and then myself.” He’s joking of course, even though he says it with the straightest face possible. His cock is hard against your thigh once again, and you know exactly what’s going to get him to relax and be comfortable.

“What if you tied me up?” You whisper right in his ear, and oh how his cock jumps at the thought, the sight of you down at his feet, all wrapped up in pretty rope, like he’s just wrangled you down himself.

“There’s no fucking way I’m letting you be in this calendar, ketsl.” Flip growls, but you just grin.

“Who said anything about the calendar?” You ask, your hand sneaking a quick squeeze around his shaft and making his jaw clench, his eyes sparkle with excitement. He’s such an exhibitionist sometimes, it thrills you both.

You give him a couple seconds to think it over, and eventually he nods quickly, licks his lips and swoops down for a kiss.

“Hurry the fuck up and get these shots.” He says to Ron, letting you go and getting into the right pose once again.

You quickly get out of the way and Flip faces the wall, turning to look over his shoulder at the camera lens. He even lifts his hand and slightly tips his cowboy hat, and Ron takes as many shots as are left on the roll of film. You think that the addition of the little kiss mark is perfectly placed, right on his ass, right where you know so many women are going to lift the calendar up to their own lips and pretend they put it there.  

“Okay now scram, I missed my girl.” Flip immediately strikes up a cigarette, and Jimmy and Ron get the hint.

 The second that the door closes behind them, Flip’s on you like a bee on honey. He’s untying your halter top before you even know it, your nipples stiffening from the cool air of the room as he cups and grasps your breasts in his hands.

“Mmmmm I missed these, let me?” He asks, already getting down to their level, and you huff out a little laugh with how eager he is, how he’s already squeezing you tight.

“All yours cowboy.” You pick the cowboy hat right off his head and place it on top of yours, leaning back against a desk in the room. Flip follows your every move, eyes darkening with lust as he presses his face right into your cleavage, nuzzles his nose there and licks at one of your nipples.

“F-fuck.” He sighs out when he sucks the nipple into your mouth and you give a little moan in the back of your throat. He’s looking up at you and you’re smiling down at him through hooded lids, his cowboy hat too big on you and tipping forward, making his dick leak all over his stomach.

“You like that don’t you? Why don’t you fuck me really fast, do something with that hard cock of yours?” You scratch your nails across his scalp, making him shudder and groan as he lets go of your breast with one hand to start stroking himself off.  

“You want it? Want this big dick?” He bites and licks at his lip as your tits press right in his face, ribcage expanding with your deep breaths, pushing them out further. “Let me see, show me that pretty pussy.”

You’re good, real good for him, so you hike up your short skirt, showing him your underwear. He hooks a finger around the little scrap of cotton between your legs and tugs it aside, and he groans with how it sticks to you, how glistening and shimmering your cunt is.

From his spot down there on the floor, he pulls your nipple back into his mouth and gives it a good hard suck as he pushes two fingers inside your pussy. You have to lean back onto your elbows for support on the desk as you moan from the feeling, and Flip follows you, thrusting his fingers in and out.

“Oh shit you’re wet, listen to that, listen – hear how soaked you are already?” Flip presses his deep baritone against your stomach as he kisses your flesh, soft skin laid out on the desk for him as he stands up, leans over you and rubs the head of his cock through your folds. “That’s my fuckin’ come from earlier isn’t it? Slut, god you’re so good to me.”

You get a good look at him, at your husband’s well-groomed body, how he’s hairy enough but not too hairy, not covered in it the way some men prefer to be these days. His happy trail leads down to a neatly trimmed thatch of dark hair, hair that’s course and feels so good as it rubs against your pussy. 

“U-uh-huh, just for you, all yours, fuck me I can take it.” You know what he means, he’d fucked you when you came to visit him for lunch, had filled you up so much that you could almost feel it sloshing around in your cunt.

You wanted nothing more than to get fucked hard and fast right now, wanted to get tied up and bent over and spanked so hard that you’d see the print of his massive fucking palm for days.

He reads your mind because he’s stepping away for a minute, off to go get rope, off to go give you what you want. You flip yourself over and press your face against the desk, legs spread and feet apart, just the way he likes you.

Your heart is racing when you feel the coarse rope winding sloppily around your wrists, binding them together, giving him a good place to hold on as he roughly thrusts his cock straight into your wanting pussy. It’s easy, real easy, because you’re so used to him, had been so thoroughly fucked by him at lunch. His come squelches out around his cock, and he wastes no time fucking it back into you.

“Oh fuckin’ – ” He grunts out as he grinds his hips as close to yours as possible, just savoring the feeling for a moment.

“Ah – yes!” You gasp, your cunt drooling and dripping all over the floor where you’re bent over. Your mouth drops open and Flip takes that encouragement to roll his hips, pull out and thrust right back in.  

He fucks you hard, fast, just like you want, just like you asked. He wraps his hand around your hair and gives it a good tug, stretching your body and arching your back for him as your hands flex and clench around nothing, arms rendered useless by the rope.

His cock splits you right there on the desk, and you can’t help but moan loudly, moan out his name, little pleas of, “Oh, oh faster, Flip, honey – yesyesyes!”

He meets your every demand, and before you know it you’re crying out as his hand cracks down hard on your ass. Flip loves the way your legs shudder and twitch and shake, so he does it again, your cunt clenching down on his cock. He slaps your ass harder, pitches you forward on the desk from the force of it, and you should out his name, tears of pleasure flicking off your lashes.

“Shh, shh ketsl, you’re perfect but you gotta be quiet, shh.” He drapes his stomach across your back and covers your mouth with his palm as he goes back to thrusting inside you. He holds you like this, presses you down harshly against the desk as he rams into your pussy, your cunt taking his cock so well, the head of it nudging right against your gspot. Even with his hand over your mouth you’re still so loud, eyes shut tight, eyebrows drawn up in bliss. He licks his lips and shoves three fingers into your mouth to try and quiet you with, “Suck.”

“Mmmm – ah!” Your body jolts a little as he fucks you particularly right, right on that spot, thrusts over it again and again until you’re gasping and choking around his fingers, spit bubbling and stringing around your palm.

“Oh fuck, fuck you’re so good, so fucking tight.” He encourages as your cunt clamps down hard on him, not yet coming but close, so close, he can tell with the way you’re rocking back with every thrust he gives you, taking as much as you can, greedy greedy greedy.

“Your cock’s huge I’m – I’m oh!” You moan and whine and gasp when he pulls the hand away, using that wetness to push through your folds and rub fast fast fast at your clit, making your shoulder blades pinch back as your back arches and you gush on his cock, “Flip no fair, that’s – oh!!”

“Let me fuckin’ feel you ketsl, let me – jesus fuckin’ – oh my god.” He drops his head down onto your back as his orgasm crashes through him, his hips still moving, still seeking out the hot wet tight tight tight heat of your pussy as it spasms and flutters and throbs around him.

He dumps a fresh load of cum right into your cunt, the head of his cock so deep inside you that it’s practically knocking up against your cervix. He smooths his hand around to cup your pussy as he thrusts shallowly in you, feels how it moves inside your body and comes some more. He’s panting hot and heavy in your ear, as his cock pulses and fills you up to the brim, your pussy only able to take so much, the overflow already dribbling down the backs of your thighs when he pulls out slowly.

Flip loves watching your pussy flutter for him the minute you pull out, like your body is angry that he’s leaving you. He plugs you up with those fingers you were sucking on, fucks come back into you, loves the obscene sound it makes, the sticky wet squelch as he scoops it up off your thighs and feeds it to you.

You’re good, a good girl for him and you lick it off his fingers, that little cowboy hat perched on your head, driving him crazy. He plucks it off your head and puts it back on his own, unties the rope around your wrists and flips you onto your back so he can kiss you properly.

He’ll have to find something to wipe you both down with, and the desk, and the floor…but for now he takes his time kissing you until your breathing both evens out, until you’re sighing happy little whimpers against his lips. He cups and squeezes lightly at your breasts, kisses all over your cleavage when he pushes them together and makes you smile, blissed out real nice and hazy.

“Phil honey?” You ask, one of your hands rubbing idly at his shoulder, comforting and soothing.

“Mhm?” He asks from between your tits, making you giggle and sigh.

“When are we thinkin’ those calendars will be ready?” You ask with a cheeky wink, and he looks up at you, licks across his teeth with a little smile of his own, and kisses you once again.

And if everyone gives him wolf-whistles when he comes into the station a week later after the calendars have been printed, he doesn’t mind, because in the middle of it all, Ron had slipped him a couple photos of you with your arms all around him from before they left the room, and he can’t deny how good you look together.

                                                      ---------------------

Tagging some pals :)  @steeevienicks @heldcaptivebychaos  @solotriplets @formerly-anonhamster @lookinsidemyhead @candycanes19 @adamsnacc-kler  @whiskey-bumblebee @magikevalynn @tinyplanet-explorers @chelsjnov @romancedeldiablo @helloimindelaware  @autumnlovesadam @peterisparker  @goodboybensolo  @the-marvelatic @miasera @emily-strange @proxyfoxy @disaster-rose @hazydespair @yosoymuyloca @1-800-choke-that-snoke @ktellmeastory @anongirl007 @zimmerxman @okk--maaan​ @flapjacques​ @aweirdlookingtree​ @callmemania-pls​ @theold-ultraviolence​ @og-selene​  @schopenhauerdeathsquad​ @nekonaomitard​ @feminine-machinegun​ @contesa-lui-alucard​