#or hold for another wiggle and rotate

[brenna]

THERE ARE EVIL BOOPS YOU SENT ME AN EVIL BOOP!!!!!!!!

Hehehehehe.

[sexy-monster-fucker]

Interloper [Part 4]

Beetlejuice x Reader

Summary: Beetlejuice decides to handle things with the boy who sent you home crying.

CW: use of bugs, guy being a complete creep, sex fantasies,

Part 1 | Part 1.5 | Part 2 | Part 3 <-

~~~

You were asleep on the couch. Beetlejuice had covered you in your favorite blanket and put a pillow under your head. Admiring how peaceful you looked. Unable to believe some skeezebag would ever disrespect you.

“I’ll make sure that boy never hurts you again, babes,” he whispered as he petted your hair. Softly planting a kiss on top of your head.

He could not believe you had made him this soft. He was never one for domestic life. Never one to fully dedicate himself to one woman. He had never felt the kind of things you made him feel. And when you came home crying, that awoke something inside him. Never before had he felt his chest tug and stomach sink.

Normally, he would not leave your house. Keeping inside made your deal sealed. But this was different. He had to do something.

The boy was still out in these wee hours of the morning. No telling how many drinks deep as he hit on every girl in the bar. Inappropriate hands cupped and groped at every passing chick.

Beetlejuice took a seat beside him at the bar. Your ex-friend eyeballed him. Staring up and down at the pale man in the striped suit. Laughing when he saw his greenish blonde hair. “Isn’t it a little late for Halloween, bub?”

Beetlejuice swirled his glass. Ice cube clinking against the sides. Eyes shooting like daggers into the man beside him. Not even giving him a pity smile. Normally, he was the kind to joke around and have fun. But when it came to you, this was serious.

Watching as the boy swirled around in his chair to cat-call another new girl in the bar. Disgust written on her face. Annoying Beetlejuice further.

“So, you thinking of taking any of these chicks home?” Beetlejuice sipped at his drink.

“Nah. None of these chicks are good enough for me. To tell you the truth, I got blown off by this banging chick earlier. Fucking A-grade. Just trying to prove to myself that I still got game since fucking sluts like her can’t handle a guy like me,” he hiccuped.

Beetlejuice’s stomach did a flip. Fury igniting inside his body. Slut? His girl? Who did this asshole think he is? Hard fingers gripped his glass. Shattering it with his frustration.

“Woah, dude,” the boy’s eyes widened.

Shards of glass fell across the bar and onto the floor. His fist shook with anger. He had to calm himself down. Smoothing his hair down as he took a deep breath.

“You’re the type of guy to harass women until they give you what you want, eh? Even going as far as to send a girl you’ve known for years home crying,” Beetlejuice gritted his teeth.

The boy was perplexed. Sipping his drink as the man next to him rattled on. Suddenly feeling something swirl around in his mouth. Pressing his fingers between his lips and pulling the long object from his mouth. A centipede, alive and wiggling. Feet kicking and antennas rotating. He gagged. Spitting his drink across the bar. “WHAT THE FU—“

Beetlejuice snickered. Shutting him up with a zipper over his mouth. Feeling several eight legged sensations under his shirt and down his pants. Giant, black and white striped tarantulas roamed his body. Feeling the cold metal of his stool wrap around him, holding him in place while the creepy crawlies explored his skin. He wiggled and fought against the hold. Muffled screams came through the zipper. Eyes bulging out of his head as if they would explode. And Beej could always make them.

Beetlejuice threaded his fingers through the boy’s hair, pulling his head to make eye contact with him. “Next time you want to send a babe like Y/N home crying because you won’t stop yourself, remember this face. I won’t go easy on you. I’ll make you suffer in this life and the next,” his snake like tongue hissed.

Tears welled up in his eyes. Nodding over and over at Beetlejuice. Body shaking with fear. Begging him to release him.

Beetlejuice slapped him on the back of the head with a fake smile. Beginning to walk off before turning on his heel, snapping to spin the stool around to face him. “One more thing,” Beetlejuice’s face pried open revealing one of the most grotesque and horrifying faces you could imagine. Snarling and hissing at the boy who cried out in fear in front of him.

Laughing to himself as he exited the bar. Deciding to leave the boy detained. A problem he could deal with on his own.

Teach him to mess with his girl.

…

You woke up when the sunlight beamed in through your blinds. Squinting awake. Noticing that you had been tucked in, confused on who could have done such a sweet gesture.

No, he wouldn’t.

You pulled the blanket off you, still in your dress from the night before. Tears ridden with mascara stained the top of it. No sign of Beetlejuice anywhere. Deciding to go and wash away the night of mistakes.

Steaming hot water trickled along your skin. Hands caressed your skin, taking the soft loofah along them. Sighing as you dipped your head under the water. Mind running rampant with thoughts of Beetlejuice. Imagining how his cold hands would feel roaming your body now. Strong contrast to the hot water. The way your body would meet perfectly to the curve of his. Imagining his deep, raspy voice whispering things in your ear as his lips trailed your neck. The feeling of his cock curved against your ass.

What was going on with you?

~

[END//Part 4]

// Thank you so much for reading! I am very excited for the next spicy chapter. //

{tags}

@the--blackdahlia ~ @summonthewinchesters ~ @jewqueer ~ @vanessaedp ~ @catfoundfics ~ @llois-lane ~ @teo-tem ~ @s-lock-doctordonna ~ @jessicafangirl ~

[jacobsbigmelons]

Roadside Favor

Jacob Custos x Male Reader

cw: Nsfw, top! jacob bottom! reader, jacob canonically drives a ford f-150 trust i’ve had conversations and it’s true, semi-public sex.

The sun blazed down on the interstate highway as your boyfriend drove with his typical backwards baseball cap, one hand on the wheel and the other holding onto your inner thigh. You raised a hand up to block out the sun from your squinting eyes as you watched the occasional car pass along with the buildings, never too dull when you’re in New York.

“How long until we get to this lodge or whatever” Jacob groaned as his eyes stared straight down the road making sure not to be too careless especially on a highway. “We still have another hour but in 30 minutes we should start seeing forests, there’s already less buildings than when we left so just hold out for a bit longer.” You softly said trying to reassure your boyfriend who was becoming increasingly more and more impatient as the time went by. It’s already been 30 minutes since you left your shared apartment with all your packed clothes and essentials to stay at these cabins for the summer, Jacob was really interested in participating especially since he would also get to meet up with a friend from high school. Kaitlyn.

“The sun is really killing my vibe right now, it’s way too hot for such a long drive…an hour long drive might I add.” Jacob pouted as you rested a hand in his hand that held your thigh. His hand rotated as he felt yours touch his in order to hold hands correctly. “Don’t whine, we’ll be there soon, then you can rest all you want.”

You couldn’t help but admire the way that he had this glare to him, a calm one but the way his eyes look off into the road, his vascular hand gripping the wheel as what little sun that gets past illuminates his stunning eyes. “I am not whining” Jacob retaliated, his brows visibly creased ever so slightly, even when he’s just a bit annoyed he can be a sight for sore eyes, truly.

Jacobs fingers wiggled out of your grasp as he playfully put his fingers in the rips of your pants which caught you off guard, “someone’s handsy aren’t they?” You questioned your boyfriend as a devilish smirk lit up his face “well. Since I have to wait a stupid hour before I get to have you all to myself, I think my hand in your pants isn’t too bad.” Jacob had a point, he was pent up and couldn’t indulge in any intimate act until you guys got to these cabins.

“I mean…you could…y’know. Pull over” You said with a shrug and a grin, Jacob looked back at you as you felt the car turn towards the shoulder of the road which slowly led to a full stop. You didn’t actually expect him to pull over but if Jacob was in your shoes, you know you would’ve pulled over immediately to have him in the moment. “You deadass wanna go at it? I mean i’m down for a bit of exhibitionism on the highway if you are.” You said as you felt a tightness around your groin as your hard on made sitting slightly uncomfortable.

“Don’t play with me right now, you said we could pull over and i’m pulled over. Be a waste if we didn’t use this time we have to ourselves.” You grabbed Jacobs phone which was on the console as the current song paused only for a more mood fitting one to play. The low yet strong bass all throughout the speakers of his truck set the mood as you unbuckled your seatbelt to get closer to your boyfriend.

“Climb into my lap” he said as you maneuvered the best you could onto his lap as he began to run his hands along the sides of your body, keeping you close while feeling you up. Your tongue glided across his neck as you left kisses everywhere and an occasional hickey down more toward his shoulders just so it wasn’t too exposed. “Oh…your tongue feels so good” Jacob said, his lips creasing as he began to grind his bulge into you, sometimes going faster when you kiss or lick a sensitive area of his neck. His hands on your sides eventually took your shirt off, the A/C washing over cold air which contrasted with the summer sun.

You pulled Jacobs tank top off as well though at this point, you were already aching to get out of your pants. You went for Jacobs belt as he started to unzip your bottoms as well, his bulge already rubbing against the side of your palm as you pull his pants down made the precum on your tip only come out more. His hands grabbed your now mildly exposed ass from the pants and made sure to hold on tight, your moaning only made him grip harder while you were grinding your dick on top of his. “Aw shit…oh fuck, wait…wait, get on my dick or else i’m gonna bust in these fucking boxers…” Jacob panted as you hoisted yourself up with your knees to let Jacob take his pants and underwear all the way off, leaving his dick now shown off.

You brought your pants and boxers down to your knees as you aligned yourself above Jacobs cock, the head was slapping against your ass as it was something Jacob always loves to do. “Fuck your ass is so hot” he said now teasing your hole considering you moved down a bit, he was even grinding against it, you wanted him in badly and you couldn’t help but slightly whine a bit when he was doing all this teasing. “Fuck babe just…mngh- put it in already.” You whined out as you looked into your boyfriends eyes, he was already hot as hell with his normal looks but when he’s stripped down, eye contact going strong, you could’ve busted right then and there.

Jacob eventually maneuvered the head directly in front of your hole and finally let himself begin to enter you, the noise you made had Jacob going in more and more, which meant more moans on your end. He was practically gone at this point, all he wanted to do was keep those pretty noises coming from that mouth of yours. “God you take my dick so fucking good babe.” Jacob let his hips move as you felt him moving inside of you, hitting every spot just right.

You went back to using your knees as support just a bit which Jacob took full advantage of as he grabbed your ass and started thrusting what seemed to be faster and faster. “Fucking…hell- Jake i’m…i’m close.” You struggled getting the words out with just how fast you were being drilled at the moment, but all the pleasure was welcome especially since Jacob was just so vocal with both words and just sounds. Each second he was filled with a loud moan and the occasional curse word.

“Aw f-fuck! as shit i’m- i’m really close babe.” Jacob whined out as he basically had his nails dug into the sides of your ass as he somehow went just a bit faster to bring him over the edge. Jacobs hips began to slow down as the sloppy and wet sounds from him finishing inside you slowly quieted down, you were basically right there with him as you finished yourself off with your trusty hand as you shot cum all over his chest and stomach, heavily panting in the process. “Holy shit…you really wanted that bang sesh didn’t you?” you breathily spoke, trying to let the endorphins fade away. “I haven’t nutted in like…3 days so i’m kinda pent up you know?” Jacob doubled down as you let him stay inside for just a bit longer.

Your head eventually rested on the front of his shoulder, your breathing much more steady as Jacob lightly ran his hands across your back along with your hands resting on Jacobs thighs underneath you.

“You’re so lucky you got tint on these windows” You giggled a bit as you looked out the window to see cars going back and forth, after all, without the tint, every car coming your direction would’ve been able to see through the windshield…though the thought of being watched while being fucked is something to think on.

“Why? Afraid someone would peek?” Jacob teased

“You’d probably let someone watch us fuck wouldn’t you?” you replied

“If I know them sure” Jacob shrugged

“You’re a freak” you playfully scoffed

“I’m your freak” he softly said giving you one more kiss before it eventually came time to clean each other up…somehow.

[sugarbbgrl]

Perfect

perfect by ed sheeran suggested by @heliumshorns for a fluff prompt

wc: 1295

Simon had met you a while ago, what started out as a few drunken nights together turned into a soft and patient relationship. He was a hard stone to crack, his own baggage weighing his heart down from feeling the love he’d deserved. You’d spent countless nights holding the giant man in your arms as he wept to you, breaking his walls down slowly until he finally caved.

You two were married in coming years later, Simon had popped the question on a much needed vacation after he’d gone on leave. He asked Laswell for a few extra days, explaining his plan to which she obliged, happy for the hardened soldier. The wedding was amazing, going as well as intended. Johnny had been his best man and the rest his groomsmen. It ended as one would expect, the christening of a newly wed couple some might say.

When he found out you were pregnant, he had a swarm of mixed emotions run ice cold through his veins. Was he fit to be a father? What if he was killed in a fire fight? Is it going to last? Too many negatives plaguing him like a disease. One Lillian was finally born, his whole world flipped. As soon as she opened her little eyes and stared up at him in the labor room, he was wrapped around her finger. He would go to the ends of the earth for his girls, nothing could ever happen to them while he was around. His life wasn’t just his anymore and as hardened as he was, she took a tiny fist and punched a hole straight through it.

He’d never considered himself a family man before his fate inevitably changed. You two were his world, he couldn’t imagine a life without. His eyes were brighter, his smile was bigger, and his fingernails a bit pinker and sparklier than before. He loved to watch Lily play, even gifting her a small teddy with little fatigues for her to hug tight when he was called out for another mission. Every day he was away, his heart swelled in agony, he would watch the clock and wait for the moment he could run to the both of you again.

“Daddy!” Your daughter gasped, throwing whatever toy she had in her hand to the floor and immediately ran to the door to jump into Simon’s arms. Tears pricked your eyes as you stood from your place on the couch and watched your husband envelop your 4 year old in an embrace. When you finally reached the both of them, Simon dragged you into his arms as well, kissing you softly.

“Been too long, ay? He said as he pulled away from your lips, placing a light kiss to Lily’s forehead. “Hope my little flower has been alright since I’ve been gone, hm?” Lily nodded excitedly and wrapped her arms around his neck, almost strangling her father in the process. 

“Daddy! I have something to show you!” She wiggled around in his arms, her tight, blonde curls bouncing in the process. Simon sets her down as she can over to the speaker next to the tv.

“Mommy, play the song!” Lily exclaimed, bouncing on her toes with her hands clasped together in a pleading way. You snickered and pulled out your phone from your back pocket, searching through your music and pressing play on the song she wanted.

Perfect by Ed Sheeran began to play through the speakers, the little girl swayed slowly along with the melody. “Daddy, come dance!” She threw her hands up to her dad, making small grabby hands toward him. The giant next to you chuckled and shook his head, giving you a quick kiss before making his way to his daughter. You leaned on the wall, watching as your beloved took Lily’s hands in his much larger ones, lifting her to stand on the toes of his combat boots. 

“Where did you learn this song, bub?” Simon asked Lily, rotating the two of them in a small circle.

“I heard it in a movie one time! I thought you would like it!” She smiled wide as her daddy let one of her hands go, spinning her. “This is my favorite song, don’t you like it, daddy?” She looked up at him with an inquisitive look as she stepped back onto his toes.

“Of course, my little love. Your favorite song is my favorite song.” A salty tear slipped from the corner of your eye watching your husband gently handle your daughter, wanting nothing more than to live in this moment forever. Lily looked over at you and smiled wide, scrunching up her nose as the song continued to play.

“Mommy join us!” She held out one of her stubby hands, reaching for you. Your eyes flicked from hers and to Simon’s, a wink dropping from his eyes. You smiled and walked over to them, taking a hand from each of them. Lily put one of her feet on yours, sharing the space with you. You let a few more tears fall and when Simon let go of Lily’s hand to dip you, your head fell back in a fit of laughter.

“Ooh, me next, Daddy! Me next!” Lily jumped up and down his her hands up, waiting impatiently for Simon to pick her up. 

“Alright, flower.” Simon chuckled and picked up his daughter, taking one of her hands and mimicking the dip he did for you. Lily’s giggles filled the room and Simon took it upon himself to start tickling her lightly, her giggles turning into full on belly laughs. His smile grew wider a the pleasant sound, letting her back up and wrapping his free arm around your waist.

“I missed you, my perfect little poppies.” Simon nuzzled his nose to Lily’s, giving her a mall eskimo kiss. “I’ll never leave you again.” He whispered, looking over at you as your eyes widened at his confession.

“What? You’ve retired?” You gasped, gripping onto his bicep. His eyes welled with tears as he nodded at you, a small laugh leaving his lips. You looked down at your daughter and back to Simon, more tears falling from your eyes now. You leaned up and kissed him a bit more passionately this time, a small ‘yuck’ coming from Lily. You two chuckled against each other lips, pecking each other once more before turning back to face Lily.

“Mommy, I’m hungry now.” She pouted slightly as the song ended and leaned her head against Simon’s shoulder. “I want some fish sticks.”

“How’s about I take you and Mommy out for dinner? A celebration dinner?” He asked Lily’s who’s eyes lit up, once again wiggling out of SImon’s arms to run to her room to change. He laughed and set her down, watching her little feet carry her quickly to her room. 

“And how about after we get her down for the night, we try to make her a sibling.” He said, wiggling his eyebrows and biting his lip, gripping you by the waist. You cocked and eyebrow and leaned into him, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Is that so?” You smirk as he lightly kisses your neck, peppering them along your neck. You kissed his cheek before pulling away, patting him on the chest. “Before anything, I have to dress your daughter before she gets into my makeup, again.” You hurriedly walked to your daughter’s room.

Simon couldn’t be more content with the life he now, and will forever, live. He never wanted to leave them again so he decided to ask for a permanent position much closer to home, one not involving war and bloodshed. He never wanted to miss another milestone or birthday, he was meant for this life.

[reallypleasanttree]

This is more from the NSFW Obamitsu snippet I shared earlier. Sappier than I anticipated. 🙃

Dawn was about to break. Obanai traced the curve of her nose, taking in every detail he could. He memorized the constellation of the freckles across her nose and cheeks along with the beauty marks under her eyes. The Master said he had to infiltrate a cult and who knew how long it would take. Who knew if this would be the last time he ever saw Mitsuri in the moments before dawn?

He needed to savor it, so he could recall these times. Every minute that ticked wore on his soul. If he were to die would it be so terrible to tell her he loved her? 

No, they were friends who slept together. Why burden her with the knowledge? It would only serve to make him feel better. 

Obanai could not marry her. He would tarnish her, but he was a selfish man. He caved the moment she kissed him the first time after drinking sake with the rest of the Hashira. The first time it happened, he said it had been because of the alcohol, but that was a lie. He prided himself for always having control in a situation. He could have stopped at any time, but the feel of her plush lips against his encouraged him to continue. 

Mitsuri wrinkled her nose and he pulled his hand back. She grumbled and rolled to face away from him. Obanai wrapped his arms around her frame. She groaned in protest, not fully awake yet. He smiled. Typically he left before she woke to avoid being seen by the other Hashira and Kakushi leaving her estate. Last night he told her he would be gone by morning. If this was the last time he saw her…He didn’t want to think of it. 

His life’s purpose was to redeem himself by protecting humans from demons. If he died doing so, even better. In moments like this though, he dared to dream for more. A simple life with Mitsuri where they could marry and live as husband and wife. He shut his eyes. No, he was too corrupt to risk the thought. Mitsuri would never accept, nor should she. This arrangement they had was purely physical. He could bring her pleasure. He could do that much for the woman he loved.   

Obanai kissed the back of her neck as he grasped her hip to pull her bottom back. They never bothered to get dressed last night. The summer nights were humid and hot already. The thought of sleeping in clothes was stifling. Even a thin sheet they slept under was too much. Mitsuri wiggled and rubbed herself against him. He bit back a groan.

“I should leave,” he said, his morning voice husky from lack of use. 

“Probably,” Mitsuri agreed, but her hand intertwined with his. Her hips rotated, pressing her ass against him and this time he groaned involuntarily. 

“Do you want me to leave?” Obanai asked, his lips pressed near her ear. Tell me no. He wished desperately for three words to spill from her mouth. 

—-

The question rested in the air. Her hand over his, wishing to hold onto him for eternity. This arrangement they had… It wasn’t about love. At least it wasn’t for him. Her heart betrayed her. 

No. I want you to stay here forever. I want us to make love every morning just like this. I want to wake up feeling your body pressed against me. I want to whisper how I love you. 

Yet she couldn’t say them. Not when Obanai would reject her love and end whatever this was. They slept together, but that’s all it would ever be. He said he couldn’t marry her. He never went into details, but he didn’t have to. Obanai did not love her as she loved him. Another string tied around her heart, yanking on the delicate structure as his thumb grazed her stomach.

“Do you want me to leave?” Obanai asked, his lips pressed near her ear. 

“Not yet,” Mitsuri whispered. She brought his hand down. His palm pushed on her clit as his fingers ran over her outer folds. She moaned lightly. He rolled his hips and she felt his cock hardening. Just one more time. With every roll she pushed back into him. His mouth sucked on her earlobe.

“Sweet girl,” Obanai whispered. Her whole body trembled at his raspy voice. She turned her head and captured his lips. 

She was desperate to keep him here. At least she knew he was safe. If only she could keep him here. It was selfish. They were Hashira with a duty to the Corps. He would come back after the mission and they could return to this intimacy. Whenever that was. 

Obanai cupped her face as they kissed. She rotated her body to face him and hooked her leg over his hip. He rocked against her and every time his cock rubbed against her clit, it shot electricity up her spine. His hand trailed down her sides until it reached her hip. He grabbed it, squeezing roughly and forcing her to move in time with him. Mitsuri moaned into the kiss, savoring the sensations licking under her skin. 

“You like that, don’t you?” Obanai asked, breathily. He already knew the answer, but she nodded. “You like it when I take control and fulfill your every desire,” he continued. Again, she nodded. 

Obanai was not a selfish lover and made sure to keep her satisfied. His hand lowered to cup her bottom, squeezing. His mouth found her neck, kissing the length of her throat. They had been together enough times, he knew her most sensitive spots. Her body warmed as she wrapped an arm across his back. She extended her neck, allowing him more access and her breasts pressed against his chest. He smirked into the junction of her neck and shoulder. 

“How am I supposed to leave you like this? Needy girl,” he teased and sucked on her skin. He was going to leave marks if he continued. The lovemarks would be a physical reminder of his presence. Memories of their time together. How could she ever forget him though? 

Water formed at the corners of her eyes. Her heart threatened to splinter, fractured by the knowledge she could never tell him of her love. Not the way she desired to at least. His lips traveled down to her chest, kissing the top of her breasts. Every inch of her skin lit under his touch. 

“Have you nothing to say, Suri?” He asked, lifting his head. 

“Make it back alive,” she said, her voice nearly cracked. She looked down to meet his gaze. Gold and teal eyes gauging her emotions. His mouth partially opened as he tried to formulate a response. No one in the Demon Slayer Corps could promise their life, even in the throes of passion. 

“I can’t promise that,” Obanai admitted. His hand touched her face, brushing away a stray tear with his thumb. Of course. He had never been one to lie. It was another reason she loved him. 

“Then promise you’ll try your best,” Mitsuri tried to keep her voice from crumbling.

“I’ll do my best,” Obanai whispered before capturing her lips. 

That was the most she could ask for. She cupped the side of his neck as she closed her eyes, slipping into their miniature paradise. Away from the horrors that laid beyond her home’s doors. If only she could keep him here. She would keep him safe. 

Her heart pounded faster as he deepened the kiss, extending her head back. Obanai cradled the back of her neck and his fingers curled over her hair. She moaned lightly when he bit her bottom lip. He paused and she saw him focusing on her face. Two toned gaze watched with undisguised intensity. 

“Something wrong?” Mitsuri asked. 

“I want to remember you just like this,” he whispered. He kissed her jawline. “As warm as the sun,” he said. “You’ll be in my dreams, dear girl. As sweet as nectar.” He brushed his lips to hers to taste her. 

“Oba,” she murmured. Could she risk it in telling him how she loved him? No, he might think she’s only saying it because he’s leaving for what could be the last time. Her throat threatened to close. No, he would come back. He had to come back. 

His hands roamed down her side as he began to kiss from her lips, neck, and all the way down to her chest and stomach. Leaving the shadow of his lips on her body and engraving his name in her heart. 

——

Obanai took extra care to caress her rounded hips. Every kiss was like a praise, telling her how perfect she was without a word. She carded her fingers through his dark locks, encouraging him. She groaned when he licked right below her navel. Every sound she made was because of him tending to her needs. 

There was a sick satisfaction he took in ensuring her pleasure before his own. Hell, he was grateful for the chance to be with her. She was his first everything. First kiss, first caress, first time, and most importantly, first and only love. He mouthed the words he failed to vocalize.

I love you.

[happy-beeeps]

Hello there! My request is this: the reader wants to learn hand-to-hand combat but has a crush on Hunter and doesn’t know how to ask him. Omega helps the reader and the reader gets what she wants. On the first day of training she trips and lands on top of Hunter and fluff or smut happens. Up to you :)

hahahahaha heyyyyyy I'm so sorry this is so late. In good news, it got away from me and turned into 4k words of the softest smut I've written!!! I am in love with this man!!!!

(also if you're asking yourself if I was inspired by the top gun volleyball scene the answer is yes I was and no I won't apologize for it.)

Take My Breath Away

pairing: Hunter x f!reader

WC: 4k

MINORS DNI 18+ BELOW CUT

Warnings: p in v sex, fingering, first time, feelings confession, awkward reader

Summary: When Omega convinces Hunter to finally train you in combat, things don't go to plan... or do they?

You’re leering, you know it. You really can’t help it, your spot inside the Marauder has left you with a perfectly obscured view to watch the training exercises happening outside. There’s a box of medical supplies in your lap while you stare through the front viewport, watching Hunter and Tech team up against Echo and Wrecker as they practice hand-to-hand perfectly in your view. 

Hunter has long forgone his long sleeve black shirt, his tattoos on full display as his skin bakes in the sun. It is hot, you supposed, but you assumed nearly every midday on Jakku got this warm. They’re all in various states of undress, grappling with each other with the kind of joyful fighting that reminds you of the village boys and their games back home. 

Sweat beads roll off his chest in a slight pattern, and you can see through the viewport that he’s used his bandana as a makeshift tie, pulling his hair up into some kind of knot on the top of his head. Echo has gotten Tech into some kind of hold, and the latter is thrashing against him trying to wiggle his way out. Hunter, however, is practically glistening as he shoots Wrecker a grin while they circle one another, until his legs push against the coarse sand outside and he lunges for his younger brother’s legs. He must’ve gotten Wreck with an element of surprise because the larger clone actually tumbles a bit, his center of gravity thrown off. You can’t hear them from inside the ship, but from the looks on their faces you can tell they’re laughing. Echo seems to have succeeded in locking Tech down, and the four of them exchange shakes and smirks–and move to repeat the game. 

Happiness looks good on him.

“Why are you watching Hunter again?” Omega’s small, but chipper, voice startles you from your daydream (something involving Hunter and his back that you’ll never tell.)

“Nothing! I’m not, not even watching him,” you stumble, trying desperately to make yourself look busy with the box in front of you. “I’ve gotta keep an eye on his injuries Meg, that's all.”

“But I thought you said he’d be better three rotations ago?”

She’s caught you now, and your face grows hot with the realization. “Well, yeah, of course. But still, as a medic, it’s my job to keep an eye on you all.”

You move to stand and ruffle her hair, toting the box on your hip as you move to go back to the med closet. You suppose you’ve done enough gawking for today.

“Are you red because you’re embarrassed about something?”

Now this makes you stop in your tracks. You whip your head to turn and face the young girl, who’s mouth smiles innocently at you while her eyes smirk knowingly. Kriff. You knew you shouldn't have let her start watching romcoms. 

“I’m not embarrassed,” you start, still making your way to the closet while Omega follows closely behind. “I just don’t know any combat, so I’m watching to learn, it’s just embarrassing not to know.”

Nice. Good save. You’ll pat yourself on the back for that one later. 

“Oh, that makes sense.” Is all you get from Omega, before you’re met with the sound of her feet moving down the walkway. You’re left alone with your thoughts, idylly shuffling supplies around the closet, delving back to your daydream. Minutes pass like this, in quiet peace, before a rough, masculine voice snaps you back to reality.

“Hey,” Hunter starts, leaning against the doorframe that separates the main cabin from the armory and med closet. He’s not shirtless anymore, instead wearing a mockingly thin white tank top that’s becoming less and less opaque the more his chest is pressed against it. “Omega said you wanted to learn some moves?”

Sure enough, Omega stands behind Hunter, arms crossed proudly as she looks between the two of you. “She’s important Hunter, she has to learn!” The younger girl shouts, and Hunter smiles down at her.

“Sure she is. That’s why I’m gonna teach her,” he looks up at you now with questioning eyes, “that is, if you’re interested? Tech is gonna bring Echo and Wrecker on a supply run for a few hours, so you don’t have to worry about them?”

“Y-yeah, that sounds great.” Maker, is that stumbling voice yours? This is getting worse by the minute.

“Hunter, can I go with? Tech said the market is no worse than Mos Eisley, and you let me go there, Wrecker already said he’d watch me!” Omega pleads with her big brother, pulling at his fingers in a subtle gesture to lead the two of you outdoors. 

“Sure, Meg. If it’s fine with them, it’s fine with me.”

* * *

Your body aches, your joints cracking with each move. You’ve barely even begun the training, merely the warmups Hunter has put you through in this scorching heat has gotten you coated in your own layer of sweat. He moved through each warm up with ease, and finished his last stretch lazily, leaning his weight on his back leg and placing his hands firmly on his hips. It took nearly everything in you not to stare at him, his shirt back on but replaced by a mockingly thin white tank top that grew less opaque with every passing moment.

“Thought you said you wanted to learn?” His voice brought you back out of your daydream, reminding you exactly why you were standing here. You had gone this long without him really knowing your feelings, aside from the simple flirtation the two of you shared to pass the time. One afternoon wouldn’t kill you.

“Thought you said we’d start slow,” you grumble in reply, moving to face him with an agitated determination.

He doesn’t give you a verbal response, merely moving to stand behind you, placing his hands and your shoulders before reaching them across to grab your wrists. “I’m gonna put you in the first stance,” he says, moving his hands, and your wrists, up to a blocking motion before kicking one of his feet between your legs. With gentle, albeit rough, taps to each foot, your legs slowly shuffled wider apart, granting you more stability on the sandy terrain. The motion of him slowly spreading your legs open, however, had the complete opposite effect, and your stomach dropped nearly to your toes as your chest flutters with warmth. This was exactly why you hadn’t asked for help in the first place.

“Looks good,” he started, moving back to face you. “Now, when you punch, you’re not just pushing your fist out, right? You’re punching with your whole arm, try hitting my hand.”

“But, I don’t want to hurt you!” You sputtered, and his lazy, easy smile returned.

“Trust me, you won’t.”

You pass nearly an hour like this, moving to punch Hunter with as much force as you could muster, and him blocking you with ease. It’s not that you were weak by any means, you wouldn’t have lasted as the Batch’s medic if you were, but this kind of strength was foreign to you. You were slipping, growing more tired by the moment. Your punches slowly falter. Finally, as the heat and the exertion caught up to you, your legs followed the swing of your arm, sending you toppling your whole weight onto Hunter.

He too must’ve begun feeling the heat, as his normally subvert reflexes failed him. Your weight and his surprise sent the two of you toppling onto the sand, his arms reaching to cup your elbows, carefully guiding you to land on his chest. The sweat on both of your skin made the two of you sticky, and your thin shirt did little to hide the flush of your chest as you pressed against his toned body. Hunter also seemed to be responding to the moment, his eyes opening and closing rapidly, his chest rising and falling with increasing speed.

Maker. You hadn’t thought about how awful you must’ve smelled.

“I’m sorry Hunter, I’m sure I smell-“

“Great,” he gritted out, you assumed his tone was dripping in sarcasm. Your wince must not have garnered the response he was hoping for, and his eyes widened in panic. “No, no, I mean it. Kriff, that’s not what I meant.”

“No, it’s fine, it’s warm out here, don’t mention it,” you shook awkwardly, moving to push off of him. Instead, Hunter’s grip on the backs of your arms tightened to hold you in place.

“I mean it,” he murmurs, “you’ve been driving me crazy all day.”

You blink in surprise as that warm feeling from before returns, and you resist the urge to press yourself against him even further. 

“What, just because I’m a slow learner?” you blush and shake your head, trying to hide your face from the intensity of his stare, and the overbearing Jakku sun.

“Why do you always do that?”

“Do what?”

“That,” he removes one hand from its spot on your arm to tug your chin back at him, his eyes falling to your lips for the briefest moment before coming back to yours, “hide from me.”

Your response is quiet, timid. “Because you don’t mean it.”

“Why would you think that? We’ve kind of been toeing around it for weeks now.”

You’re sputtering now, “I thought you were joking.”

“I don’t joke when it comes to you,” something akin to hurt flashes across his eyes, and his grip on your arms loosens slightly. Kriff. You’re losing him now, and the panic that settles in your chest takes over before your brain can properly think its way out of it.

You’re fully pressing your breasts against him now, relenting the rest of your weight onto him as your arms snake their way to his face and you pull him towards you before he has a chance to feel any more hurt at your expense. Your lips crash to his in a kiss that’s equal parts full of reassurance and want, and he molds against you quickly. Whatever doubt and hurt he might’ve felt a moment ago is replaced by something darker, something needier.

Hunter adjusts you on top of him easily, pulling you up and wrapping your legs around his waist. When you pull away from the kiss you watch as he brings your legs tighter around his waist and, with little struggle, manages to stand up against the sand, never dropping you from your perch.

You try not to go faint at the way his leg muscles tense beneath the rolled up cuffs of his pants as he lifts the two of you from the ground with ease. Hunter has always been scrappy, never as much bulk as Wrecker but easily the second largest of his brothers. Echo used to joke that what he lacked in height he made up for in muscle mass.

You can’t stop yourself from leaning in to him, placing needy open mouth kisses along the curve of his neck, the sharp edges of his jaw. He groaned at your touch, his steps quickening towards the Marauder. There’s a break as he fidgets with the controls to lower the ramp and it starts its painstakingly slow descent. In a fit of impatience, Hunter has your back pressed against the side of the ship and moves to kiss you again, this time it’s bruising and impatient. He’s been wanting this just as long as you, you realize. Whatever the door the two of you just opened isn’t going to be easily shut.

He’s methodical with the way he kisses you, but his hands are anything but. He pulls teasing tugs at your lower lip, slowly parts your mouth with his tongue–like he’s testing something. 

“Hunter,” you beg, turning your head from him in a feeble gesture to get him to notice that the ramp has lowered.

“I’ve just wanted to kiss you for so long,” he admits, a tenderness in his eyes that your stomach doing backflips, “I don’t think I can ever stop.”

He walks to the two of you up the ramp of the ship before setting you down gently in the hull. You’re staring up at him now, his hands resting on the small of your back, keeping you close.

“You tell me what’s too much cyar’ika. I’ll take whatever part of you you’ll give me.”

“All, all of me. I’m not afraid.” You murmur, pressing yourself against him before leaning to loop your arms around his neck.

He meets you halfway to kiss you, albeit gentler than before, before turning you and moving you backwards with small steps. You know this ship like the back of your hand, even backwards and with your eyes closed, and you can tell from the way he’s moving you that you’re moving towards his quarters.

“We can go to my room?” You ask, breathless. They had graciously turned the small medbay into a space for your quarters, of sorts. You had a larger bed than any member of the batch, with the caveat that your roommates were small surgical machines and overflow boxes of bacta. 

“No, want you in my bed, if that’s ok?” 

You nodded while he continued to guide you towards the rest of the batch’s quarters, your vision becoming shaded from the darkness of the room. You were grateful now that Hunter’s bunk was on the bottom, as the backs of your legs bumped into the mattress.

He laid you down on the mattress and quickly stretched across you, giving you full freedom to remove your arms from his neck and let them roam against the broad expanse of his back. His kisses met your neck almost as soon as he settled on the mattress, and from the way his teeth nipped at the soft skin, you knew you’d be littered with marks.

Whatever. You’re sure they’d pick up on it eventually. 

Your thoughts were interrupted as Hunter pulled you up towards him, using the space to pull your shirt off and discard it on the floor, leaving you in the thin cottony breastband you’d picked specifically because it was too hot to even think about something better. You, in turn, pulled at the hem of the thin white tank top, and he smirked at you as he moved back, pulling it up over his head. There was enough space between the bunks for him to sit comfortably upright, and you moved forward to meet him, bringing his hands to your waist.

“It’s too hot for all these layers.”

If he was surprised he barely showed it, raising an eyebrow before moving to unfasten your breastband, leaving the two of you bare from the waist up.

“Mesh’la, I can’t… I can’t stop.”

“Then don’t.” You smiled, leaning back on his mattress, watching his form cage you in.

His response was immediate, falling closer to you and moving his kisses farther down your neck before moving to bring his mouth to your breast, now bare to him. His lips dragged over your newly exposed flesh, before his tongue flattened over the stiff peak of your nipple.

He wasted no time in palming your other breast, and the briefest glance you got of your skin beneath his inked fingers was enough to elicit the smallest of whimpers from your mouth. He paused from his work on your nipple to glance up at you, before sending a devilish grin as his hand removed itself from your chest and made small movements towards your thighs. With a quick and decisive movement he placed his hand just on the squishy flesh of your inner thigh, before hooking a finger around the seam of your panties and shifting them down.

You jostled a bit to help them come off and Hunter surged to kiss you again, his breath warm and inviting on your mouth. In an instant you let out a soft gasp as his fingers began to move towards your folds, before he slowly pushed two fingers into your heat. 

The feeling of being filled in any capacity by him immediately sent warmth flooding to every corner of your body, and you bucked your hips against him as he moved his fingers in a delicious hooking motion, pulling you closer and closer to oblivion with each movement.

“So warm for me, so wet.” He grumbled against your neck, and your hands threaded through his hair, desperate to keep his body against yours.

“Hunter, need you, now.”

“Shh,” he murmured, moving faster, and a twisting in your feeling in your gut suddenly struck, along with the realization that you were quickly approaching an orgasm. “Come for me first, princess. Need to make you feel good first.”

His words and motions combined sent that first orgasm crashing over you fast, the tips of your fingers and the lower half of your body shaking in pleasure while he took his sweet time, coaxing every bit of your oblivion out of you in slow, melodic motions. When you had come back down to earth, he pulled his hand from you before bringing it to his mouth, bringing his fingers to his mouth and tasting you finally.

“Next time you’re finishing on my tongue,” he groaned, head thrown back. You took his momentary distraction to pull at the band of his boxers, already eyeing the deliciously thick silhouette of his hard length pressing against the fabric.

“Hunterrr,” you whined, leaning up and pressing kisses from his collarbone down his chest, before deciding you couldn’t take it anymore and plunging your hand into his boxers, running your hand up and down the velvety skin of his shaft. You paused at the tip, running your fingers over it and collecting the precum already leaking out.

“Need to learn some patience,” he groaned, before shifting to pull the last offending article of clothing off, and pressing you firmly, and softly to the mattress. With his boxers gone you could see him now. He was big, bigger than any man you’d been with before, and prettier too. The inky black markings of his tattoos led down his whole torso, pausing just at the start of his shaft. It was one of the few spots on his body where you could admire every inch of tanned, warm skin.

Hunter moved down to kiss you, this one sweet and short, running a hand down your core to collect some of the mess he’d already made of you, before running it along his length. He leaned back and looked at you, his eyes warming with a fondness that suddenly had you feeling more naked now than you had this entire time. 

“You take my breath away,” he murmured in a voice dripping with an emotion you weren’t bold enough to try and name, before picking up one of your legs and easily tossing it over your shoulder. “You’ve been my dream this whole time. Wanna make sure you’re ready.”

“Hunter,” you paused, reaching a hand up to his cheek, “if you don’t fuck me now, I’m going to go catatonic.”

His laugh had your leg shaking, and he rolled his eyes, “remind me to fuck some manners into you next time.”

Without any more pretense you felt his tip surge past your walls, stretching you out deliciously and giving a sense of satisfaction greater than anything you’d felt before. He pushed farther before bottoming out and nudging just right against that spot you’d always struggled to reach. The same one that had you tossing one arm over your eyes and another grasping at nothing out of pure bliss. His name breathed past your lips like a prayer, and you felt him shiver a bit at it.

“Fuck, that’s my girl.” He moaned, starting his thrusts at a slow, manageable pace. You felt one of his hands slide up the sheets on his mattress before sliding and weaving his fingers between yours. “Don’t hide from me.” He whispered, and you brought your arm down, placing it firmly on the bicep he was using to support himself against you.

He felt fucking amazing. You had met a guy in an alley on Coruscant who tried to sell you deathsticks once, and you felt like you had to go back and tell him he was wrong. There had to be a better high. Being fucked into your pillows by Hunter while he held your hand and whispered to you had to be better. You weren’t a scientist (ok, maybe you were) but this had to be the best feeling a human being could feel.

Hunter’s pace quickened, and soon the cabin was filled with the sickeningly sweet sound of skin slapping against skin, his hips snapping against you. His senses must’ve made him perfectly attuned to how you were feeling, any shift in pleasure, any barely audible moan. His hand had removed itself from yours, instead holding your wrist and pressing you firmly into the bed in a move that felt more possessive and dominant than threatening.

“You’re mine.” You had moaned without realizing it, and his pace picked up again. A twisting, numbing feeling began to blossom in your core and Hunter brought your leg down, surging forward to kiss you as he fucked you farther into oblivion.

“You’re my girl, you’ve always been my girl.” He groaned into your neck before pulling back. “Just been waiting for you to realize it. I wanna hear you say it.”

“You’re mine, I’m yours.” You groaned, his hips bucking up and nudging again and again into that spot. His hand removed itself from your wrist and you used the newfound freedom to rake your hands down your back, sending moans of pleasure out of Hunter.

“I’m all yours princess,” he groaned, “so sweet, so soft for me. Fuck, so tight.”

His praise and words and breakneck speed had you hitting your orgasm like a brick wall, turning you from head to toe in a shivering, gasping mess as your walls clenched around him. You gripped his hair in a desperate attempt to tether yourself to something corporeal as he fucked you through it, his own pace becoming quick and sloppy.

“‘M close, where,” was all he was able to rasp out.

“In, ‘s okay.” Was the closest thing you had to a response. You’d tell him about your implant later.

In an instant, he was groaning into your neck, his hips slapping against yours sending you nearly into sensory overload, before you felt his warmth against you. For a moment after he barely moved, just breathed against you as if he couldn’t imagine this had actually happened. The two of you stayed like that for a moment, you running a hand along his back and through his hair as he pressed sweet kisses along your neck, likely trying to soften the purple marks you were certain he had left.

“Lemme get you cleaned up,” he whispered, as if careful not to scare the moment away. He pulled back from you slowly, before reaching to tug his pants back on and heading to the fresher. He was only gone for a few moments, returning with a warm, wet rag that he lovingly dashed between your legs and a pair of clean shorts from your quarters and one of his shirts.

“Thought you might want something comfortable.” He said as he passed it to you, and you quickly changed into it, relishing into how the shirt smelled so distinctly of him.

You moved to sit up but he toppled in bed next to you before you could. His bunk was small, barely enough space for the two of you, so he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into his chest.

“Don’t go. Meant what I said.”

You blushed as you shimmied to turn your face to him. “Which part?”

“All of it. I’ve always wanted you. Not just for, you know,” he stumbled, seeming suddenly embarrassed.

“Sex?”

“Yeah, but I’m not gonna complain about that part,” he winked, before pulling you into him again, resting his head on top of yours. “I want to… care for you. In every way. You really take my breath away, always have.” He pressed a kiss against your hair, and you pressed closer to him in return.

“Then you’ll have me. For as long as I’m here and then some.” 

The two of you stayed like this into the night, wrapped up in each other’s arms, tangled limb to limb. Soon enough the lull of his heart had drifted you into sleep, and he did his best to shield you from the prying eyes and loud noises of the rest of the Batchers as they returned from the market, just as he swore to himself that he’d shield you from anything that threatened to take you from them, from him.

His girl he had said. And he had meant it.

[lgckiyong]

⸻ 𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙧𝙤𝙙𝙪𝙘𝙞𝙣𝙜 ,

-ˋˏ ★ Say hello to 수기용, born MAR052001, a not so aspiring model who was scouted to the company in JAN2024. He's a fresh face and hasn't yet allowed the reality set in that this might very well be his new one, uncharted land as it is.

profile , aesthetics , full nav

( Press the ♥ and I will wiggle into your DMs or add me on dc @ serachasauce. )

BACKGROUND ,

Soo Kiyong was born March 5th, 2001 and raised in Seogwipo, a city on the island of Jeju, to two loving parents.

While his childhood wasn't super eventful, it should be noted that he was pretty doted on as the youngest of his siblings. ( And yes, he hates doing chores and will whine!! )

He took up an interest in swimming competitively in middle school and continued on throughout high school and even university. He also dabbled in taekwondo and enjoyed playing soccer for fun with friends.

By the time Kiyong was 18, he decided he would apply for a college in Seoul and help his grandparents with their cafe. He only needed to fulfill the promise that he graduate with good grades and pass the entrance exam.

Miraculously, he gets accepted into SNU and decides to major in marine biology and oceanography.

After a couple years attending uni, he decides to get his enlistment out of the way. Unfortunately, he injures his shoulder during training and as a result, his swimming career would have to be shelved.

( Note: during late January 2024, he even ended up having a surgery for the rotator cuff tear he experienced. This has potential for past headcanons! )

When he returns in the summer of 2023, he gets his dream job at an aquarium as an aquarist. But the dream is short-lived. A year later, he is fired after he was discovered to be conspiring with his coworkers to place the beluga whale into a better habitat.

With only his job at his grandparents cafe to sustain him, he's had to resign himself to the fact that maybe he should finally seriously consider this modeling thing. Ever since being scouted on the street earlier this year, he's been apprehensive. Especially knowing that his parents will be ... rather confused by his sudden path change.

PERSONALITY ,

Pisces sun, Gemini moon, Capricorn rising / ENFJ

Very happy-go-lucky! Energetic and silly! Another tall golden retriever boy to add to the pile! Friendly boy swag

Sensitive, but in tune enough with his emotions. He is a little bit of a crier, but he keeps it together well enough.

He's actually quite clumsy and prone to accidentally breaking things… but at least he's innovative trying to fix them with a shoelace and some gum!

This one's for you! (misses shot)

Knows how to sew and thinks crafts are pretty fun.

Actually has quite a good head on his shoulders. He doesn't get angry easily and he is great at mediating and trying to solve problems in a calm way.

I would be remiss if I didn't mention that he has an obsession with all things marine life. Especially sharks

Total romantic with so much love to give to everyone who can hold it. He loves those he cares for so much ( maybe too much ).

Friends, family, partners. Everyone!

That being said, he is an affectionate guy. He enjoys giving and receiving hugs. It's how he recharges.

He's working on his Jeju accent but since he's lived there practically his whole life, sometimes he has a hard time.

His grandmother used to be a model for decades when she was young. Basically, the only hope for him that he will make it out of this.

An advocate against the mistreatment of animals, particularly marine life.

PLOT STUFF , I'm open to brainstorming but here's a link to his plot page. I'll list some general stuff I want for him!

customers that frequent his grandparent’s cafe or the lotte mall aquarium before he was fired

anyone who lived in Jeju anywhere from 2001 to 2019

those currently attending SNU from 2020 to current year

friends - he has many of them! even if not close

people with unique interests to drag him around and try new things

any introverts for him to adopt

he’s a great listener and good shoulder to cry on

would highly prefer any plots that we could go pretty deep into, especially with crafting headcanons and other unique interactions in their past.

any senior models or any others who have been in the industry for a while. advice would be much appreciated, as the industry is poised to chew this guy up and spit him out if he’s not careful

negative relationships of any kind are are open too

[nonotnolan]

Summer Break Dullahans

I can’t say that I was expecting to respond to somebody’s cry for help at three in the afternoon.  The student dorms were already pretty empty, since only one of the three buildings would be open for summer classes, and most people were at home until the summer semester officially started.  So when I heard a faint cry of “Can anybody hear me?  I need help!” it was easy for me to believe that the guy had been yelling in vain for quite awhile.  I wasn’t sure what I expected-- a Freshman who managed to get pinned between the bed and the wall, maybe?  I sure as hell wasn’t expecting to see Ben’s detached head sitting on a couch pillow.

No wonder he was yelling for help, he was literally just a head!  I walked over and picked him up off the couch, grabbing him on either side of his ears.  I thought for sure this was just an optical illusion somehow, but... no, I was holding his entire head in my hands.  “Put me down, jackass,” he shouted, trying and failing to wiggle out of my grip.  “I don’t need help from you.”

I wasn’t expecting to feel the muscles in his jaw move as he spoke, and I’m a bit ashamed to admit I actually dropped him in surprise.  He landed on the couch, at least, but it couldn’t have felt good to land nose-first from that far up.  “I’m so sorry, Ben,” I said, as I rotated him back to an upright position.  “What happened to you, anyway?”

“You know damn well what happened-- your fucking roommate happened, that’s what,” he said, glaring at me.  “I was just watching some Netflix when Grant barges into my room with a goddamn sword.  Next thing I know I’m stuck on the couch, and he’s taking away my headless body!  He already told me about your plan to steal bodies away from other guys, don’t you fucking dare pretend to feel bad.”  Well, that was news to me, but Ben refused to believe a word I said.  Not knowing what else to do, I turned on the TV on for him, and leaved the door open so that the next person might be able to find him a bit easier.  

Pulling out my phone, I discovered that I’d missed a few text messages from Grant.  He said he was waiting for me downstairs in the parking garage with a surprise that I’d have to see to believe.  Which... yeah, if I hadn’t managed to stumble across Ben’s detached head, I don’t think that I ever would have expected to see a muscular Grant.  He was a great roommate and all, but the dude was maybe 120 pounds on a good day.  Given that I was easily twice his weight, the two of us definitely had a weird dynamic going.

Or, we used to, at any rate.  The new Grant was almost certainly a lot more muscular than he had ever been before in his entire life.  It was hard to imagine the guy who stayed up every night with me to grind rank in League of Legends being able to earn a physique like that.  And there was something about seeing his pale head resting on top of Ben’s tanned body that was just far too comical.

“What, is that the only reaction I’m going to get?” he asked, frowning slightly.  “Fuckin’ look at me, bro.  I’m like some sort of Alpha Male now.  You wish you could be a man like me!”  He started flexing his arms, causing veins to appear in places I didn’t even know they existed.  “It’s okay to be jealous, Eric.  You don’t gotta act so modest on my account.  I know you’re gay, it’s okay if you suddenly want a piece of this.”

I couldn’t help but laugh.  “Sorry if you were expecting me to be completely losing it right now,” I said.  “I already ran into Ben upstairs, and he told me... well, what’s left of him told me about what you did.  Nice sword, by the way.”

“Well, fuck,” he said, letting his shoulders drop.  There was something about seeing him stand there, slouched over, that made him look so much more like the real Grant.  “Probably should have slapped his head onto my old body before leaving.  I guess on the plus side, I won’t have to work very hard to convince you that this sword is magic somehow.  And anyway, I still have another surprise up my sleeve.”  He snapped his fingers, and gestured toward a figure who had been standing off in the shadows.  Well, most of a figure, at any rate.  A headless body, absolutely stacked with muscles, stepped forward into the lights.

“Did you... is that for me?” I asked, trying to make sense of the surge of emotions I felt.  Desire.  Longing.  Lust.  Holy hell, I wanted that body to be mine.  The shoulders, the pecs, the abs... healthy, vibrant, everything that my current pale and flabby body could never be.  Not without more work than I would ever be willing to do.  A primal, animalistic Need.  And, if I had to be honest, a slight amount of guilt.  I’d already saw what Grant had done to Ben.  If I made this body mine, I would be stealing it from someone else.

I was utterly entranced.  I found myself tracing the ridges of its chest with my fingers, my head utterly swimming in hormones as my manhood rose to its paltry four inches underneath my cargo shorts.  “Grant, who did... where did you find him?”

“Nuh-uh,” Grant said, shaking his head at me.  “I know you, Eric.  You think too much.  If I tell you his name, you’re gonna feel bad and you’re gonna try to make it up to him.  Fuck that shit.  This is all or nothing.  You want this body, you don’t get to know whose it was.”

He knew me far too well.  I looked back and forth between Grant and the headless muscle hunk that he had procured for me.  Did I want it that badly?  Would I be able to live with myself afterward?  My head tried to argue ethics, but my heart already knew my answer.  

I dropped down onto my knees, giving Grant easier access to my neck.  He lifted the sword up high into the air, striking down with a massive swing.  I felt a sudden lurch as I fell several feet to the ground.  I tried to use my arms to prevent myself from hitting the ground, only I didn’t have arms anymore-- my old body was completely unresponsive.

“Hey, wanna know what your new body is gonna smell like?”  I tried to protest, but I was unable to stop Grant from lifting up my new body’s arm and shoving my head right into its armpit.  The coarse hair brushed up against my nose and lips as the sweaty musk filled my nostrils.  “Yeah, you like that, don’t you,” he said, laughing at me.  I wanted to be mad, but... he was absolutely right.

“Just shut up and attach my head,” I said, trying not to let him know how much it was turning me on.  If I didn’t have an armpit fetish before, I did now.  Grant lowered my head into place, and suddenly I had full control over my new, muscular body.

I practically sprinted back inside to find a bathroom with a good mirror.  Can you blame me?  You could still see the difference between my head’s pale skin and my body’s bronze tan, but I think maybe a lot of people would  just assume that I had used tanning spray.  Hell, for all I know, my prior body really had used a tanning spray.

A few months from now, the rest of my friends would return from summer break, and I would have to try and convince everyone that I had gained this body naturally.  No one would ever believe that I had lost 100 pounds at the same time that my roommate gained 100 pounds.  Although... if Grant was planning to keep the sword, maybe he would be willing to hook up my friends with a new body as well?

[bump1nthen1ght]

The Spider's Web (Fem!Reader x Fem!Arachne)

Pairings: Fem!Arachne x Fem!Reader

Genre: Established Relationship, Dom/Sub undertones, Smutty smut

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1433 Words

Summary: You’re girlfriend and you have always had a thing for rougher play, but this will be the first time you're utilizing all of her unique…abilities

Request: Fem reader with a tall fem arachne with bdsm elements, spanking, with breast and tit play

In spite of your expectations, Thera’s webs don’t feel that sticky. Not in the way syrup feels stuck to your skin, or how sweaty clothes cling to your sides, at least. No, they feel more delicate than that. Almost like a mix between a liquid and solid, something that lingers across your senses, but doesn’t overpower. It’s sort of nice, especially on a hot afternoon like this one

But they do stick, very efficiently, the intricate webs holding your body suspended with no issue. The way they’ve bound your ankles and your arms leaves basically no room for movement, only the slightly wiggling of your torso. And even then, Thera keeps a firm grip on your midsection as she settles you across her two front legs.

A long claw traces the arch of your spine, and goosebumps peppers your back.

“Hmm, does that feel good, dearest?” You nod, breathing already heavy as Thera’s hands linger around your butt, tracing shapes into the fat of your hips. But then she’s grabbing harshly onto one cheek, pinpricks of claws digging into your skin. You gasp. “I didn’t hear you~” Thera practically sings.

“Yes, t-that feels good.” You whimper as she releases her grip, half-relieved from the pressure and half-desperate to have it back.

“Hmm. Then I supposed you’re ready.” Her hand pulls back into the air, her other on your shoulder, set to keep you from flying over her spindly legs. “Don’t forget to count, dearest. You know the consequences.”

You nod, not forgetting her demands.

“Yes, mistress.”

The snap of her hand against your ass is loud, echoing off the cave walls of her home. You yelp.

“O-one.”

Her cold hand feels nice against the flushed skin, but Thera is quick to reel back and give you another spank

“Two!” You yelp.

“Good job.” She purrs, the hand on your shoulder rubbing circles into your clavicle.

Her tone is deceitful, feigning kindness when she hits you with two quick strikes, one on each cheek.

“Three, four.” You worry your bottom lip between your teeth, rubbing your thighs together as heat burns in your core.

She hums, dissatisfied that you didn’t fall for her trick. She oh so loves to punish you.

Thera turns her attention to the less-slapped cheek, giving it two more strikes to even it out.

“Five, s-six.” Your mind is beginning to scramble, your vision beginning to blur. Your cunt aches for something, any kind of friction against it.

Another two spanks, across the two cheeks.

“Seven, eight.”

“Lets see if you make it to ten, sweetheart.” Thera almost threatens, her free hand clutching your jaw. “Then I’ll give that sweet little pussy a treat.”

You can’t help the moan the bubbles out, a fresh gush of slick wetting up your crotch.

Thera’s last two spanks are quick, also but even your lust-addled mind can catch up.

“Nine, ten!” You gasp, hips spasming just from the thought of what's to come.

“Perfect.” Thera pats your head lovingly, the grip around your jaw loosening. “I knew you could do it. Such a good pet.”

Your stomach turns a bit as she rotates you upward, yanking on her complex web to seat you right against her, snipping the web tying your ankles to throw your legs over her human hips. Your wrists stay tied behind you, chest pushed out and presented for her eager mouth. The pressure of her palm pushes your cunt to grind on her navel.

“Hmmm.” You moan, hips swiveling to return chase that high. But no, she’s in control of your pleasure. Thera tugs again and you’re suspended a bit higher, your legs now tied around her waist and your tits at the perfect level of her mouth. “Agh, please.”

“Please what, dearest? You have to use your words.”

“Please…touch my pussy, mistress.”

Thera chuckles, throwing back a strand of her long, black hair. Red irises look up and down at your heaving body, licking her lips.

“Just your pussy, dearest?” She says all coy, her thumb finally pressing against your clit. You respond only with a moan, head thrown back. You can’t see the way she hungrily stares at your heaving tits, tongue darting out like a predator looking at prey. “From what I remember, these cute nipples of yours are also sensitive.” She keeps her thumb circling around your sensitive button, the other making its way up your waist and to your areola. That thumb flicks across a pebbled nipple, making you whine.

“Please, suck on my tits, mistress!” Your begging voice echoes across the cave walls, sounding just as pathetic as you thought.

“Well, when you ask so nicely.”

A cold tongue wraps around your right nipple, ricocheting sensations as she pressed her forefingers deep into your center. Your body convulses, grinding against her touch and tongue.

“F-fuck.” Your vowels slur, eyes now locked on your girlfriend's perfect lips wrapped around your tit.

The lingering wetness allows another finger to slip in easily. Thera decides to be generous, doesn't wait for you to ask and begin pumping her fingers in against your g-spot. She feels the way your walls clench down on her digits, especially when her teeth graze your nipple.

Thera is dexterous, strong forearms for working her massive loom several hours a day, and keeps up a relentless pace while stretching you open. At the same time she switches nipples and continues her lapping, her thumb still circling your clit. A buzzing numbness spreads down to your toes, all too much yet not enough.

“T-thank you, mistress! Thank you!” Your voice gets high and whiny, knowing how much Thera loves good manners. Her smirk is apparent, felt around your breast as she continues to suck. She moves off briefly, but only to bite more bruises into the fat, pain mixing with pleasure.

You feel the knot tightening in your core, your thighs beginning to clench around her ribs as your pussy begs for more. Thera chuckles, rumbling against your skin.

But then everything stops.

Your whines are like that of a kicked puppy, your body thrashing like in a tantrum.

“P-please, mistress! I’ve been good, so good!”

A hungry graze, red irises on black sclera, look down at you. A hand with two soaking wet fingers troke the side of your face.

“You have, dear. That’s why I’m giving you a treat.”

The web around your ankle is cut again, your vision twisting as she turns you upside down, your legs now thrown over her shoulders. In front of you are her perfect tits, heavy and pebbled from her own ministrations. Your mouth waters as you eye her delicious nipples, now so close to your mouth.

“I’ve been dying to taste this juicy cunt. Today’s your lucky day.”

And then that long tongue is shoved deep inside of you, your pussy spasming. But there's no time to waste, yoru core crunching up to suck on your mistress’ tits. You try to be rough, the way she likes it, biting and sucking as you bounce in between them. They're so warm, wrapping around your face like a pillow.

Your hips jerks as your girlfriend eats you like a woman starved. Her fingers keep stimulating your clit as she tastes each inch of your sopping core, as if drinking ambrosia straight from the source.

You slightly miss that voice. Her sultry, chiding voice, but you’re too tit-drunk to care. You keep sucking like that good girl you are, feeling that crescendo rising again.

She pulls away, strings of your juices stuck to her jaw, whispering into your thigh.

“Cum, my love. Cum all over my lips.”

It’s not a hard order to follow. It takes only a few more laps at your sensitive center for you to convulse, thighs wrapping around her head like ear muffs. You spasms with her tits still in your mouth, lapping at them like a dog.

It’s Thera who finally pulls you away, a sweet, loving look on her face.

“Look at you, so good to me.”

She turns you over before snipping all your bindings, letting you fall against her human top. Your legs wrap around her hips, your arms around her shoulders.

“Shh, dearest. It’s alright. Rest now.”

You take her command to the heart, nuzzling into the crook of her neck and feeling yourself fade into unconsciousness.

“What a perfect girl you are, dearest.” She plants a soft kiss on your shoulder blade and massages the base of your skull. You fall asleep the deep lull in her voice, so happy to be trapped in her spider’s web.

[glitterguts13]

Mortefi and Jihyan having birthing classes to some soldiers and medics with Pregnant Rover as part of their demonstration.

Oh I LOVE this idea!

"Rover, please, try to keep quiet." the metal of the table is cold against his bare backside, hands trembling as he grips onto the support bars. There's a deep ache in the tendons connecting his thighs to his hips, legs spread just far enough to burn.

"S-sorry." he mumbles, puffing his way through another contraction. The room was quiet, save for an awkward cough here and there, or the shuffling of papers.

Jiyan stands beside him, arms crossed, his presence alone keeping the class in total control. Mortefi seems far less concerned with their behavior, snapping on a pair of gloves and shoving two fingers into Rover's gaping hole.

Gasping, he wiggles away from the intrusion, taunt belly flinching.

"Fully dialated, head present." Mortefi stands back, motioning to Rover's hole. The classes mutters something, sharing curious and horrified looks at the small teardrop shape beginning to form between Rover's legs.

Groaning, Rover clenches the support bar above his head, body tensing up as the undeniable urge to push overwhelms him.

"Pant through the pain Rover," Mortefi turns back to the class, "Remember, proper breathing is necessary. Should your patient begin tensing too much or holding their breath, remind them the importance of breathing through the pain. The baby only receives as much oxygen as the mother does."

"Ah...ah....ah...." Rover pants, legs trembling violently. A gentle hand brushes some hair from his eyes, and Jiyan gives him a look that signals some level of sympathy.

"Once fully dilated your patient will begin to push. The 'urge' people speak of isn't quiet the right way to word the sensation. Their body will begin working to expel the infant regardless of if the mother is pushing or not.

Of course, it's best that the mother work with their body, not against it. However, as most of the patients you will be in contact will most likely have just endured some level of trauma, there are times they will try and ignore the need to push." fingers tug around the rim of Rover's burning hole, and he can't help but cry out as the burn begins to settle in.

"Screaming, crying, vomiting and the like are all very common. We encourage mothers to waste as little energy on noises as possible, but again, in the event of a traumatic event, there is only so much we can do." Rover cries out, curling over his belly and baring down. A strong arm wraps around his shoulder, and Jiyan supports him as he pushes.

"As you can see, the head is beginning to crown," talking to the class and mostly ignoring Rover, Mortefi places his hands carefully around the baby's emerging head.

"Carefully take hold and guide the baby. Do not, under any circumstances, pull. Run your finger around the neck, check to make sure the cord isn't wrapped around it...it isn't, and once the head is out," popping free with a rush of fluid, a sound of disgust rises through the room as the floor is splattered with amniotic liquid, "Let the mother rest...and the baby will begin to rotate." one shoulder pops free, and then the other, sliding easily into Mortefi's waiting hands.

The class cheers, and Jiyan clears his throat, gushing them all instantly.

"If the baby is crying, it is breathing just fine and you may give them to their mother." he lays the bloody, wailing newborn to Rover's chest. A mess of red hair is slicked down over the baby's head, and while Mortefi continues to teach, Rover feels Jiyan lean in closer, whispering in his ear,

"Next time, you're having my baby."

[doodle-pops]

Lairelótë

Finrod x fem! reader

Request: Can I request a soft moment with Finrod x fem! reader fic? Him and his wife recently welcomed their firstborn, a girl perhaps and he's all gushing and soft with his baby. Constantly wanting to hold her and such and maybe mummy has to beg I'm to hold her baby 😂. Excited dad Finrod is sweet and I love him. - Anon

A/N: I decided to give you anxious dad Finrod in the mix. He's just so soft and precious being a first-time dad.

Warning: fluff, breastfeeding, Celegorm makes an appearance, reader being in pain because of childbirth (it’s not described), Finrod being a nervous and excited dad, he's so soft

Word: 2.1k

Synopsis: First-time dad to his baby girl, Finrod is beyond anxious to meet his bundle of joy.

Pacing the corridor like a madman, the golden-haired King tugged at his no longer neatly adorned curls and circlet. His ringlets were sticking out in every direction and his crown was long removed from his head after his accidental attempt at raking a hand through his hair and tossing the delicate object against the wall. The poor, younger nurses who were tasked with keeping the King calm and preventing him from breaking through the gold and cream doors were finding their mission growing more difficult with each passing minute. The more you moaned and groaned from behind the doors, the more panicked looks the nurses sent to the guards to lend a hand at restraining their exceedingly strong King.

Once he was pacing the corridor, creating tracks and trenches in the deep, rich red carpet, now he was standing before the door with his men and the last visitor he would expect to appear at such a family moment, Celegorm. The silver-hair prince learnt of the guards' weak attempts at restraining his formidable cousin and decided to kindly lend his hands— anything to have a little moment to be rough with the King. The nurses had taken a step back to rub their hands after tediously restraining their King. While the guards stood on either side of the double doors, Celegorm stood behind Finrod with one hand interwoven in his sunflower gold robes and a grimace look on his face. The sounds of your groans were a bit unpleasant to his ear and gave him the impression you were not having an enjoyable delivery.

From Celegorm’s point of view, he couldn’t help but chuckle at the dreadful look on his cousin’s face. Any moment now, he swore Finrod would rip his way out of his grasp and break down those doors. Was he not accustomed to child delivery by now? His mother did give birth three times after him, he should be familiar to the process. Unfortunately, Finrod was far from familiar with the process since this was you and his first child. Busy in a meeting when you immediately went into labour, Finrod dropped his papers and raced out of the courtroom without a dismissal to his court. By the time he reached, you were already admitted, and he wasn’t permitted to enter during delivery.

Another cry went off from you and Finrod attempted to wiggle out of his cousin’s grasp but was stopped when it was followed by another. This one was softer despite its loud pitch. He could hear the quiet coos and the cheers from the midwives and no longer any of your groans. For a moment in time, Finrod’s struggling ceased and he stood still at the dawn of realisation. His eyes widened as he stared at the cream and gold coloured doors, straining his ears to listen for more coos from the tiny guest that entered the world. He knew what those sounds represented having heard them three times before, but his heart and mind weren’t functioning correctly to process the recognition. He simply kept staring at the door, attempting to rotate the cogs in his mind to comprehend the completion of the situation.

“Congratulations cousin,” a rough, yet softer voice resonated from behind. Finrod still made no movement to acknowledge the well-wishes his cousin gave to him for he was still waiting to hear the final say from the midwives.

The grip on his robe eased up, as did the tension between him and his guards when they noticed he was no longer attempting to tear through them. Sensing a presence to his left followed by a slap to his shoulder and a rough, friendly shake, he snapped out of his trance with the door and turned his head robotically to face his beaming cousin. “You’re an atya now. To what, boy or girl?” Celegorm quizzed.

Blinking and flapping his lips to find the right words to respond, he sputtered, “Um…uh…a boy? Maybe a girl? I don’t know, w-…we wanted to wait until b-birth.” His eyes were distant while he spoke to Celegorm, though the latter found his younger cousin’s reaction hilarious. Clapping him on his back once more, he tugged him to have a seat on the chair while they cleaned you and the baby. “Relax cousin, they’re probably cleaning her up so she can feel a little more comfortable. The midwives would come for you shortly.”

“How do you know all this?” Finrod questioned puzzled at the knowledge Celegorm displayed.

Casting the King a confounded look, he snorted his response, “Whenever ammë gave birth, we were all there outside waiting. Did this not occur with your ammë when she was…”

It was as if a light went off in Finrod’s head at the mention of this process occurring numerous times before.  Slowly nodding his head before breaking into a vigorous shake, he hummed, “Uh, yes, yes. I—uh, I forgot for a moment. Forgive me, it's all of this…” He waved his hand through the air and towards the door to explain the reason for his memory shortage. Celegorm couldn’t help but release another peal of laughter. This was the loopiest he had ever seen his cousin aside from his drunken state.

It wasn’t long before the King needed to wait before the sound of approaching footsteps was heard and the door swung open to reveal the midwife. After an hour of biting his nails and tugging at his hair, his patience wore off. “Your Majesty, your wife and your…little one request your presence at once,” she spoke with a bow off her head before stepping aside and allowing him to fly into the room.

Once the door was shut, he stood at the centre with his hands beside him stiffly as he peered into your arms. Craning his neck and slightly tipping on his toes, he watched as you cooed and held up the tiny finger to your lips before giving it a little kiss and nibble. A face filled with wonder and awe at the little bundle of creation you held in your arms, Finrod couldn’t believe his eyes. After twelve months of impatient waiting, she was here. Slowly, a smile crept onto his face the longer he observed and twisted his neck to have a better view. Had it not been for the midwife who gave him a gentle push towards the bed, Finrod would have remained standing at the centre all day.

Approaching you on the tip of his toes, he clasped his hands before him and peered into the swaddle of blankets at a round chubby face with his blue–green eyes and sunflower golden curls, staring at you. The breathless inhale he took at the reflection of himself prompted tears to sprout from the corners of his eyes. A choked sob fell from his lips as he knelt on the carpeted floor and cradled your body— face burying into your shoulder and thanking you for making his life complete. His golden curls fell around him majestically as he expressed his happiness at the new life you brought into this world.

“It would be wrong of me to not say thank you, wouldn’t it?” You paused to twist your neck to land a kiss on his head. “Why don’t you say hello to her, and you can thank me later with some food,” you giggled into his hair.

Peeking at you through his lashes, his face broke into a blinding smile before he cast his gaze upon his little one who was busy feeding away. Her little mouth formed an ‘o’ as she latched onto your breast and drowned herself in her first batch of food in the real world. The tiny coos she emitted while she drank away urged the newfound father to stretch his left hand out and allow her to wrap those tiny fingers around his giant finger. Not even sparing him a glance as she fed herself, she managed to apply her already famous Arafinwean grip that made him gleam with excellence. “She’s strong! My babygirl is strong!” he exclaimed.

His daughter was already showing signs of being mighty like her father which made his heart swell with pride. His gaze at her was filled with immense joy the longer he looked on. Cautiously, his right hand rose to brush the blanket off and cradled her head; it was then her gaze shifted from your breast to him. “Hello little one…w-wait, what are we going to call her? Have we a name decided?” Panic and excitement rose in his voice once he realised that all he could call his daughter was little one and no real name. At the shift in his aura, her grip on his finger tightened and she released a gurgle. “Hm, it seems that she’s eager to learn of her name as well darling. What shall we call her?”

Sitting quietly as your thoughts ran off to ponder at the question, the air was light and fresh, filled with the scent of primrose and lavender, along with other healing herbs and cleaning liquids. The intense iron was no longer staining the air with its pungent and nauseating odour; you were able to breathe the clean air once again. Filling your lungs with the sweet fragrance of relaxing herbs and basking in the melodious songs of the birds, joyously singing about new life entering the world and praising them, you glowed even brighter. Perhaps it was the after-effect of bringing life into the world or the revelation of being a mother after all these years of being without a child. Either way, you were brimming with sunshine— as though the literal sun was not sitting in your arms.

The longer you pondered, the deeper your mind travelled, and your foresight struck. “I was thinking about how she’s so bright like the sun, why not call her sun…sunshine…summer?” you whispered while you stroked her curls.

“Summer…summer…” he repeated while looking around to complete the name, it felt like it was missing something to make it perfect for his daughter. Casting a glance through the window, his eyes landed on the pink bloom causing a grin to appear. “Summer flower! Lairelótё for my little sunshine.” Her little hand that gripped his finger applied greater pressure in rejoicing at the selection of her name. She couldn’t help but slip a small smile at the corners of her mouth while she fed.

“It appears that she approves of her name.”

“So it seems, isn’t that right my little Lairelótё?”

Finding the voice of her father comforting and entertaining, she managed to pull away from your breast and cast her gaze upon him. Little gurgles and grunts slipped from her lips as she engaged in conversation with her father. Her eyes twinkled with the same glee that his eyes shone with the more they conversed. Sweet names flowed from his lips in her direction and all she responded with were toothless grins and her typical baby noises, but in Finrod’s heart, he knew she adored them. Every call from him was filled with the utmost love and affection a father’s love for his daughter could possibly contain.

“Why don’t you hold her, I’d like to have some rest. That way you two can continue your conversation,” you chimed in, cutting their discussion off.

“Sure.” He glowed. Carefully rising to his feet and planting a kiss on your forehead, Finrod reached down to pry the swaddled baby out of your arms and into his. She rested perfectly in the crook of his elbow like it was made to hold her from the start. “She’s so tiny! Thank you for bringing her into this world and giving me the opportunity to be a father,” he gushed as he looked down at her angelic features and rubbed his nose against her button one.

Through hooded eyes, you gazed at him wearily and drowning with sleep as you looked at their interaction, warmness crept into your bosom and filled you with mirth. It was a memory to cherish for a lifetime. “Hm, you are welcome, but if you’ll excuse me, I have some rest to catch up on. You two can continue to converse…I’ll be sleeping.”

Lifting his head from their mini interaction, Finrod nodded his head and bid you peaceful rest, “Sleep well, my love, and thank you.”

Masterlist

Taglist: @eunoiaastralwings @noldorinpainter @ranhanabi777 @spidergirla5 @lilmelily @someoneinthestars @mysticmoomin @aconstructofamind @floraroselaughter @singleteapot @the-phantom-of-arda @rain-on-my-umbrella @asianbutnotjapanese @ilu-stripes @justellie17 @justjane @silverose365

[kittycarabiner]

Hiiiiii~ How are youuuuu? Hope you're doing weeeeeell. I'm tired out of my mind right now. Very very eepy, but I've been rotating this idea around in my head like one of those hot dog spinner things and so I thought I'd share before I lost my mind. :3

Little secret- (I've also never actually had sex before) Shocker. I know. Its me and my filthy imagination against the world. 🙄😒 That being said, I couldn't stop thinking about sharing one of those double sided dildos with someone...

Either with an experienced girl who knows what she's doing and encourages me into taking it as well as she can, almost bullying me about how I look like I'm going to cry and that I've barely taken any of it at all. How she'd spread my legs with hers and practically pull me to her until her clit kissed mine. Leaning into my space to mock me with a "That wasn't so hard now was it?" all while not taking her eyes off the place we're both connected.

OR

Sharing one with another inexperienced person. Both of us panting and whining and wiggling around. Too overwhelmed with the new feeling while equally being too greedy to take a break. Both of us with one leg thrown over the other's hip and locking our knees to inadvertantly pull the other closer. The only time we actually pause being when our pussies are pulled snug against each other, taking the opportunity to kiss and hold each other before continuing.

Sigh~ yeah... sounds like a nice time :P Anyway, that's all for now. Can't wait until 5 o'clock so I can cozy up in my nice comfy bed.

-🐈🐈

whaaaattt my beloved 🐈🐈 is just as inexperienced as me???? what a turn of events!

id... also love to share a double ended dildo with someone 😓😓😓 both scenarios sound so lovely. can you imagine us sharing, though?

both of us all dolled up in matching ears, collars, tails, and thigh highs? maybe we can have a matching black/white set :p

little bells on our ears and collars so they ring with every tiny movement we make as we grind closer together 🥺🥺 you getting extra excited and tugging me towards you, inadvertently making me take more of the toy while i whimper and squeak for you, only shutting up when you kiss me ♡♡

leaving marks all over each other and just pawing at whatever skin we can reach.

ughhh the dream 🥺🥺. also, take care of yourself!! get some good sleep tonight, mwah ♡♡♡♡

[film-in-my-soul]

hangster for y? im a sucker for some yearning

Not sure how well I did but I hope you liked it!

Y is for Yearning

He never used to have problems paying attention in briefings or lessons. He never used to bounce his heel, wiggle his pencil, or actively stop himself from running his fingers through piano scales across his thighs. Bradley used to pose, back straight, pen tip at the ready, attention rapt on whatever commanding officer had control of the laser pointer. But that was then, and now it's not.

Then, Bradley hadn't known the yielding heat of another pilot's body. Then, he hadn't felt the weightlessness of being lifted by arms just as strong as his own, hauling him around with ease. Then, Bradley had never felt the edge of competitiveness give way to mutual, blinding pleasure so strongly it damn near had a color, and a shape, and a texture all on its own.

Now, Bradley's squad has been shuffled; he's been given a secondary team that he's rotated. It's placed him directly behind an overly familiar blond head )two seats up and one across from where Bradley is parked). It means he has a front-row seat to a fresh toothpick held between long fingers, lifting it to a waiting mouth. Bradley can trace the callouses it rests on, the one that hedges around the thumb, and feel the rise of a scar across the pad, splitting the whorl of the print like he's still got his tongue on it. He knows the weight of the same ankles crossed beneath the chair the blond sits on as if they're locked around Bradley's middle, digging into his flank with their silent but insistent message to move.

So yes, Bradley is distracted, half paying attention (if that). His mind is spiraling out, trying to remember the specific scent of sun-tanned skin, beaded with sweat, pressed on top of freshly washed cotton. It's trying to connect the drag of wood across paper to the sound of nails scrambling against a headboard, the boom of jet engines outside to punched gasps and a thundering pulse, the summer breeze fighting to waft from semi-open windows to a shuddering breath against his ear. Bradley has figments of them all, pale imitations as he runs his tongue against his progressively drying bottom lip and rests his own fingers on the inside of his wrist, pushing to feel the tendons flex.

What makes it worse, Bradley thinks, is that he should be satisfied with the sense-memory, with the imitations and flash-bang flickers that fly across his thoughts each time Jake moves or fidgets, but he's not. There's a hook just behind his belly button and a heat sitting in the bowl of his stomach. His thighs are tense from how he's holding himself down, holding himself back. Bradley is poised to spring just as much as he is to stay statue still, body forward but eyes drifting as if pulled by the magnate that is Jake Seresin simply existing.

How Bradley had thought one night would be acceptable- would satisfy- he doesn't know, especially now that he's living the aftermath. Damned stupid was hardly enough of a chastisement, and so he's reaping what he'd sewn. He's paying the piper for the gift he'd been given: shockingly easy submission, a slack, wet mouth, a freely offered place to rest his need and have it soothed with tongue and sex.

Still, even with the blood roaring hard in his ears, growing louder the more firmly he controls himself, his gaze drifts to the slope of Jake's throat as the other man tips his head to stretch the muscle, and Bradley is left wondering if the imprint of his teeth is still there beneath the collar.

The fact of the matter is, given everything, he'd do it again. He'd suffer this bottomless need pressing on him from the inside out, making his head muzzy, his attention short, just to lay Jake out again, just to lavish that body and have a fresh layer of paint put on the twin pictures of 'hunger' and 'glutted' that live in his head.

And given how Jake shifts, just a little, just enough, so that Bradley can see the glint in his sea-glass eyes, his wolf-sharp smile, he knows it too.

Alphabet Prompt Game

[whumpycries]

One word prompt: whimpering

i am. so sorry. this is so late but hdskljfsd dsklj.

ANYWAY. this update brought to you by yours truly who dealt with back and knee pain for 4 days straight proceeding a thing where i'd had to kneel for about 25 mins.

anyway. prev part here.

cw: kneeling, slavery whump, kinda dehumanisation associated with slavery/loss of autonomy, i guess?

Rowan had been counting the minutes very diligently. 

All two of them.

“You know the amount of time you stay on your knees is exactly the amount of time I’ll take you outside for, don’t you?” 

“I know,” August snapped, before wincing and dropping his head. 

August knelt beside the chair Rowan was sitting on, pretending to read a book even as he kept his attention firmly on the squirming prince. Not even a full minute before he’d grown uncomfortable. He was on a rug. He tried to subtly lean his weight against the chair, but Rowan reached down to tug at his hair. 

He was gentle, of course. August knew resistance would mean the entire outing would be cancelled. No need to use force where it wasn’t needed. 

August straightened up at the first touch, flinching a little. He was biting down on his lips, his face strained with concentration, and Rowan couldn’t quite suppress his smile at that. He was trying so very hard. 

At the three minute mark, August lifted himself off his heels and shifted a bit, wiggling his toes, before sitting back down with a grimace. 

At four minutes, he asked, “How long has it been?” 

Rowan didn’t even try to keep the humour in as he told him it’d been less than five minutes. He watched as August’s shoulders slumped and he exhaled loudly, a thin whine escaping him before he quickly smothered it. 

“Can I...” August spoke up after a few moments, “Can I at least bring my hands to my front?” He was holding onto his left wrist behind his back, rotating his shoulders a little bit. 

“The amount of time you spend kneeling with your hands on your front will be halved when adding to time spent outside,” Rowan informed him, watching August’ face crumple with a strange mix of despair and anger. 

“It’s not fair,” he said, a little petulantly, and then promptly shut his mouth, as though realising how petulant it had truly sounded. 

Rowan chuckled, “I’m not trying to be.” 

August shifted again, lifting himself up and leaning his weight mostly on one knee for a few seconds before shifting to the other, creating a sort of sideways rocking motion. Rowan let him; he was kind like that. And either way, August stilled after almost an entire minute of that, slumping in place and putting his weight back onto his heels. 

Another minute passed before August started whimpering. Very low, small sounds, that he was very clearly trying not to make as his face screwed itself up with anger and pain. Then he started grinding his teeth, loud enough that Rowan couldn’t ignore the sound at all, and he reached down to flick August’s forehead. 

August looked at Rowan with such wide affronted eyes that Rowan’s annoyance at the teeth grinding evaporated. “What?” he asked, “I can’t even make noise now?” 

“You can,” Rowan said, putting his hand on August’s jaw. He could feel how tense he was as he slowly caressed it, “But from what I know, humans can’t regrow teeth after a certain age. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t grind yours to dust, as I assume you’ve outgrown the age where you could have gotten a new set if you damaged your current ones.” 

After a few slow blinks, where it looked like August couldn’t believe what he was hearing, he jerked his head away from Rowan’s touch, muttering, “What do you care?” 

“Why, of course I care, darling,” Rowan said, imbuing as much cheer into his voice as he could, which was a lot, considering how delighted that question had made him, “You’re mine, which means your body’s mine, which means your teeth are mine. You’re not damaging yourself, are you? You’re damaging something that belongs to me.” 

August stared at him for a moment, his eyes bright with tears, before he looked away, brought his hands out front, and almost flung himself across the rug, rolling over onto his back and kicking out his legs furiously. “I can’t do this, I can’t I can’t I can’t— don’t take me outside, I don’t care–” he said, words rushing into each other as he kept kicking his legs, probably trying to get feeling back in them. The chain around his ankle clinked and jingled at the movements.  

After a few moments he went limp, staring blankly up at the ceiling. 

“Well,” Rowan said, shutting his book and keeping it down onto the table beside him, “That was about ten minutes. Shall we?” 

--

taglist: @whumpsday @morning-star-whump @whumpy-writings @t0rture-me @octopus-reactivated @whump-queen @pigeonwhumps @whitehairandblood @d-cs @itsmyworld23 @scp-1296 @e-rattt @neverthelass @cuppa-cha

[ravendruid]

I know it's not a September prompt (rather something from another prompt list you reblogged long ago), but if it's at all possible I would love "kissing on a dare" for Vax/Scanlan (not that they need a dare, considering Vax kissed Scanlan full on the mouth at least twice in CR, but I would love something from you about those two! <3)

Hi Anon! Thank you for sending this prompt! I may have gotten a bit sidetracked on it (oops), but they do kiss! I hope you like it :D

Truth or Dare?

(read on AO3)

Vox Machina might be protectors of the realm, but they are, first and foremost, a group of shitheads who love to drink and have fun, and they are not going to let some insignificant vampires and undead ruin their night. 

The tavern is practically empty at this time of the night, most of the patrons having left to their own homes, but Vox Machina is still going strong (even Keyleth, who might be a few mugs of ale in). Grog, bless his sweet, giant heart, managed to find enough ale for another round of drinks and, much to everyone’s confusion, an empty bottle of wine.

“What’s that for?” Vex’ahlia asks, taking her mug from the goliath and nodding at the bottle.

“Ah, that would be for me,” Scanlan grins. He takes his mug and the empty bottle and sets it in the center of the table.

Once everyone is served, they stare at Scanlan expectantly, then at the bottle as he spins it once. 

“Perfect,” Scanlan announces, then he looks at his friends and says, “Let’s play truth or dare.”

“We’re not teenagers anymore, Scanman,” Vax snorts into his drink, but he still wiggles his eyebrows in amusement at the gnome. 

“Which means, it’ll be even more fun!” Scanlan replies.

“How does this work?” Keyleth asks. Suddenly the whole tavern goes silent (which doesn’t mean much because it’s just them now).

“What do you mean, ‘how does it work’, darling?” Vex asks, leaning over the table to look at Keyleth.

“Have you never played truth or dare?” Scanlan asks, shocked. 

“No…”

“Oh Gods,” Percival tries to hide a chuckle but he’s ineffective. “You really are sheltered.”

Keyleth gives her friend an offended look and crosses her arms over her chest. “That’s rude, Percy.”

“It’s okay,” Vax tries to calm the emotions around the table. “We spin the bottle and where it lands you ask the person ‘truth or dare’. If they pick ‘truth’, then you ask them a question they have to reply truthfully. If they pick ‘dare’, then you set a dare for them to do like–”

“Taking a piece of clothing off,” Scanlan winks. Keyleth doesn’t look very happy at that idea.

“Or,” Vax intercepts, “Run around making chicken noises.”

Keyleth visibly relaxes at that. “And if we don’t want to answer the question?”

“You drink,” Vex shrugs. 

“Simple enough, even for me.” Grog says with a large grin.

“Let’s start with small things,” Vax suggests, then spins the bottle.

Everyone holds their breaths as the glass bottle rotates on the wooden table, especially when it starts slowing down, and when it finally lands on Vex’ahlia, they release their breaths collectively.

“Truth or dare, sister?” Vax smirks. If Vex’ahlia is scared at all of what her brother might come up with, she doesn’t show when she replies, “Truth.”

“When we were younger, did you steal my favorite dagger and blamed it on the poor maid?” Vax leans over the table, narrowing his eyes at his sister. 

Vex laughs as if Vax is asking her the time, then replies, “Of course, brother. It was me all along.”

“I knew it,” Vax scowls. 

“My turn,” Vex’ahlia shrugs and spins the bottle. Everyone squirms on their chairs when it lands on Percival and she looks at him like a lion looks at an antelope. 

“Oh no,” Percy squirms harder than the others, trying to pull away from Vex’ahlia. 

“Truth or dare, darling?”

“Dare,” Percy gulps. They all know Percy just went through a huge trauma, so it’s not shocking he might be trying to avoid questions about it.

“Fair enough. I dare you to drink up the rest of your ale.”

Percy nods at the easy challenge and downs the rest of his mug—which in his defense, was only half-full. He stretches over the table to spin the bottle with a sigh of relief for not having to answer any intrusive questions but the movement, and the spike of alcohol make him slightly dizzy. The bottle’s neck lands on Vax’ildan across from Percy, who immediately pales at Percy’s smile.

“Truth or dare?” Percy asks, looking from Vax to Keyleth, then back to Vax. He knows the rogue must have noticed it because he immediately replies, “truth” with his voice an octave higher. 

Maybe it’s the effect of the alcohol dimming his senses, or maybe it’s the effects of the alcohol making Percy bolder, he’s not sure which is which, but the question flows easily out of his mouth, “Did I hear you correctly in the study earlier? Did you confess your love to a certain someone?”

THUD!

Everyone jumps in their seats looking at the source of the noise and they find Keyleth sprawled on the dirty, sticky floor of the tavern, rubbing her hip with her stool lying at her side.

“Sorry,” She apologizes, getting up. Her face is bright red and she avoids eye contact with everyone, but especially with Vax.

Once Keyleth is fully seated, all eyes are back on Vax who gives Percy a menacing look before he downs the rest of his drink and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

“My turn,” Vax grumbles and spins the bottle. 

The bottle spins for a few seconds, everyone looking at it expectantly—well, everyone except for Keyleth, who is still peering down the light amber liquid in her cup.

“Fucking hell,” Vax curses. Keyleth, as if sensing it, ever so slowly raises her gaze to the neck of the bottle pointing at her. “Truth or dare?” Vax mumbles in a low voice, avoiding eye contact.

“Truth,” Keyleth replies. Her knuckles are white around her mug from holding it so tightly.

“What’s your favorite wild shape?” Vax asks. Everyone at the table scoffs at his question, but Keyleth quickly replies, “Minxie” then spins the bottle.

It lands on Grog this time, to which he replies ‘dare’. Keyleth challenges him to do fifty push-ups with the twins on his back, which Grog absolutely kills. 

“Alright, time to up the ante,” Vex calls, a few rounds later when it’s her turn to spin the bottle. It lands on her brother, again, but this time Vax picks dare, either trying to avoid any more intrusive questions he doesn’t want to answer, or because he knows no matter what he picks, his sister is going to try to fuck with him.

“I dare you to kiss Scanlan,” Vex says, grinning. 

There is a collective nervous chuckle at the table, but Vax merely shrugs and jumps from his chair. He swags on his way to the gnome, then grabs his face, practically squishing his cheeks, and presses a long smooch to the man’s lips.

“Is that the worse you got, sister?” Vax asks with a smirk, completely ignoring the shell-shocked gnome.

“Oh, wow,” Scanlan shakes his head as if trying to get rid of a mental fog. 

“It changed your life, did it, Scanman?” Vax teases with a wink. Scanlan simply grins in return, which provokes another chuckle at the table.

“Raise your hands if you've been kissed by Vax,” Vex’ahlia calls smugly. 

Scanlan raises his hand proudly first, then Keyleth, ever-so-slowly. 

“Did it change your life?” Vex continues, staring daggers at Keyleth, who is avoiding eye contact. The druid lowers her hand faster than she raised it, but remains quiet.

“Oh for sure,” Scanlan mocks. “I think I might be addicted now. Can I get another smooch?” He leans over the table but Vax pushes him away with a hand on his forehead, laughing.

“You just watch. I’m gonna end up kissing all of you,” Vax grabs Vex’s mug and uses it to point at Percy and Grog before he downs it.

“Not me,” Grog shakes his finger. 

“Even you, big man,” Vax teases, making smooch gestures, then he turns to Percival and does the same, wiggling his eyebrows at the human.

“Alright, alright. Enough flirting, brother.” Vex takes her mug back before Vax finishes all the ale in it. “Grog, can you fetch us more ale?”

“There weren’t any more,” Grog shrugs.

They all stare at the table for a moment, realizing all their mugs are empty.

“Maybe it’s time for bed,” Scanlan suggests, jumping off from his chair. The group follows, some groaning louder than others, some stumbling on their feet. 

“Yours or mine?” Vax asks the gnome with a wink, but before he replies, Vax corrects, “You know what, nevermind. I have other plans,” and with that, he tries to swing his arm around Grog’s torso, who doesn’t understand Vax’s advances are just a joke and ends up punching the rogue unconscious.

“You can sleep right there,” Grog voices out before he leaves the tavern, followed by a laughing Scanlan and Percy. 

“Should–should we help him?” Keyleth asks, blushing. 

“He made his bed,” Vex taps her brother with her boot. When Vax doesn’t move, she shrugs and accepts Keyleth’s offer to help drag her brother back to the castle.

“He’s going to have a massive headache tomorrow and no way in hells I’m gonna let him forget this.” Vex snorts.

At the end of the night, Vox Machina are nothing but a group of shitheads, and no matter how many sovereigns and cities they save from vampires and undead, that will never change.

[cyberneticlagomorph]

[a POV video is posted of someone, probably Jack, walking through a forest of absolutely massive trees.

The trees' limbs have been twisted and manipulated like especially huge bonsai, decorated with fluttering ribbons and greenish-blue worm-lights. Some branches are walkways, some have been shaped into platforms or scaffolds for the numerous buildings that seem to grow from the tree like strange fruits.

There are homes, shops, hospitals, farming relays, and all manner of things either suspended from the branches or halfway grafted onto the trees' trunks. A few buildings seem to be INSIDE the trees themselves somehow, without hurting them.

Jack stops for a moment to take it all in, ignoring the crowds of excited tourists hauling ass towards the nearest nursery gardens.

An elf scuttles head first down the trunk of a nearby tree, like a squirrel. This is apparently normal behavior for them, as their feet are able to rotate almost completely backwards in order to help with this task, in addition to their long tails helping to balance them. The elf looks up, halfway down the tree, catches Jack filming and waves at the camera before continuing on their way down.

There are very clear and obvious elevators and other methods of transport up and down the trees, but it looks like that specific guy just wanted to scamper today.

Jack continues on his way towards the nursery gardens, ushered by elves in fancy clothes.

The gardens themselves don't look very special, they're just flat patches of dirt encircled by the roots of the towering trees. Rich black soil, meticulously plucked of grasses and weeds so that only an army of bright green sprouts can flourish. There are paths through the garden made of flat stones, carved with names, dates and symbols. records of those born there.

There are midwives strolling through the gardens, some plucking and pruning weeds in different parts of the gardens, some watering the sprouts, or measuring their growth. They're all dressed the same, in heavy leather gloves, wide brimmed hats with fine veils, leather knee-pads, dense looking boots, aprons, and overalls. A midwife pauses in their work to wave at the tourists, gently patting the soil around a healthy looking sprout. The sprout wiggles, and all the nearby midwives stop what they're doing to coo at it.

"Almost ripe." An elf says, leaning towards Jack with a conspiratorial grin. The elf in question is milk white with black eyes and grayish hair, her skin covered in hundreds of eye shaped tattoos that give her the appearance of a birch tree that decided to be a person. She points at another plot, this one full of healthy, wriggling sprouts. "Those are mine, with any luck they'll be picking them today."

"Mozzels!" Jack says.

A guide, dressed in bright red and holding a flag so he's easy to see, leads the tour group deeper into the gardens. "The midwives would like to remind you that non elf visitors are asked to stay on the paths at all times, both for your safety and for hygiene reasons, we don't know where you've been or what you've stepped in so please don't track it into our nursery."

The paths are very pretty anyways, so Jack doesn't mid staying on them. The stones all vary, some are natural, some are concrete or glass, all of them are carved with names and dates and family symbols.

"I feel kinda bad stepping on these, they're so pretty..." Jack says, lifting his paw so he can get a good look at a chunk of polished river stone carved with a whole LITTER of names.

"Don't be." Says the birch elf. "They're made to be stepped on." But even she pauses and points at a stepping stone, it's very old and the name on it is almost worn completely away. "This one's mine though, look it still has my teeth marks in it."

It's hard to tell with all the wear and tear and dirt, but there are several deep grooves in the rock like something had tried to eat it.

The tour stops in a section of the gardens marked with dozens of little stakes and flags, each next to a little sprout that's wiggling and writhing almost impatiently.

"This is the plot where we keep the smaller clutches and singlets, or anybody that doesn't want a big patch all to themselves." The tour guide says, keeping the tourists at a respectful distance while the soon to be parents gather near their patches.

Midwives scurry to and fro, arms full of baskets and blankets, big soft brushes, and hand scales like the kind people use to weigh fish.

A midwife kneels in the dirt, wraps their fingers around a sprout and PULLS. In a flurry of dirt and screaming, out pops a brand new elf kitten. Flailing limbs and gnashing baby teeth, the kitten hisses at the midwife who holds it at arms length by the sprout and the need for such thick gloves becomes very apparent. The kitten is brushed free of loose dirt, weighed, and wrapped in a blanket before being handed over to its parents.

It has not stopped screaming and hissing and carrying on the entire time.

This is normal.

The entire garden soon fills with the hisses and shrieks of newborn elves. Several of them crawl out of the dirt of their own accord before the midwives can pluck them and immediately try to bite something or someone with their wretched little egg teeth.

A milk white elf kitten waddles up to Jack with the utmost certainty, sniffs her paw, and immediately sits on it like they belong there.

"Ah!" Jack gently nudged the kitten towards the birch elf. "I think this one is yours maybe?"

The birch elf laughs and scoops up the kitten, nuzzling its dirty little face. "Nah, mine are back toward the front, this one IS my nephew though."

The kitten squeaks and beeps, flailing his little limbs in what might be delight.

Soon all the wandering babies are rounded up and given to the correct parents, pictures are taken, records are recorded. Someone tries to put pants on a kitten and almost loses their fingers.

Jack gets to hold a singular elf kitten, the kitten is so sleepy and little and slightly fuzzy.

Jack cries on and off for 10 minutes, with the video ending there.]