#over-sized thick framed mirror

[deepdarkdungeondubstep]

Dining Room in Houston Inspiration for a large transitional enclosed dining room remodel with gray walls

[megan-mayhem]

Dining Room in Houston

Inspiration for a large transitional enclosed dining room remodel with gray walls

[lanabuckybarnes]

Winter’s Girl

18+ Minors DNI

(I do not own any photos, credits to original owners)

Could you imagine being a scientist on the winter soldier program, your task is to make sure he’s at 100% before every mission. This time though, when you enter his holding cell he’s nowhere to be found.

Note: I HIT 300 FOLLOWERS; thank you guys so much I love you all xxxx

Pairing: Winter Soldier x Reader

Warnings: Translated Russian because I’m stupid and know one language, Jealous Soldat, use of the word Puppy/Pup as a petname, a lil Biting, Hair pulling, Spanking, Spitting, The Winter Soldier (he’s a warning), Creampie, He’s a little sweet at the end but there isn’t much aftercare— as always if I’ve missed anymore let me know!

Word Count: 1.2k (of porn with no plot)

You gaze flicks around the room, a little panic stricken but who wouldn’t be when a 6ft something assassin had seemingly disappeared from his cell.

The fear bubbling in your belly only triples when you face the long broken mirror that sat just above the sink, behind you his cerulean gaze was undeniable. His hands reach out, the cool metal one wrapping itself around the bottom of your face, muffling any protests, while the other gripped your hip with bruising fingers and pushed you forward till your pubis and upper thighs knocked against the sink.

Your hands fall on instinct to the cold metal as your fingers grip at the surface, when you flick your gaze up to the mirror you can see that what swims in his own orbs isn’t anger or the usual killer instinct, no— the Winter soldier looks at you with lust.

“красотка” (pretty) He whispers hoarsely against your neck, hot pants of air from his mouth coating your throat like paint. His teeth nip right at your pulse point before his warm tongue smooths over the mark.

When you jerk, his grip tightens, “don’t move” He stares at you pointedly through the mirror before both his hands retreat from your frame.

You vaguely register the soft sound of fabric hitting the cold floor before he swipes your own clothes from your body, the harsh air was harsh; it almost felt like dipping your body into a bath filled with ice.

He groans, loud and throaty as his eyes bore into your ass and panties. Despite the cool atmosphere of the cell you feel everywhere burning with a primal want. You wanted this, you had since the first time you worked with the Soldier. He smelled the way you slicked up at the sight of him in nothing but his briefs, blood dripping from his nose, a musky scent radiating from him that had you desperately soaked. He wanted this too, he needed the release and the best kind of toy was one that was willing.

You felt his fat tip press against your hole, pushing in and out softly over the thin lace before it slipped to stimulate your hard little nub. The strong grip on your hip was back, anchoring your feet in their exact spot.

“You need this?” He kissed sloppily up your spine, It sounded more like a statement than a question but you nodded all the same.

He worked quick after your confirmation. Your panties were pulled to the floor by their soaked gusset and two of his chubby metal fingers speared you, pulling a delightful sounded moan that the Soldier was desperate to hear more of.

They worked methodically, pushing in and curling out, your legs shook at every time the cool pads bumped over each pleasure filled rib.

Once he deemed you ready enough, his fingers slipped from your tight hole to jerk at his thick length, coating himself in your essence. He so desperately wanted to taste you but his cock was crying out for attention, he’d get his fill next time.

“F-fuck” you moaned loudly as he pushed in, all semblance of decency thrown out the window at the feeling of his fat cock stretching you, there was a burn from ill prep but with the size of him you weren’t sure there would be a way to prep. You were thankful that he let up for just a bit so your insides could mould to accommodate him.

When he started thrusting his pace was brutal, his meaty thighs slapping against your own, the sound mixing with the squelching push and pull of his cock along your fluttering folds. You’d thank his super soldier serum later for his constant pounding pace but right now you could think of nothing but him.

“Bucky!” you squealed as his cool digits flicked meticulously across your sensitive clit, your fingernails scraped mindlessly at the shiny plates of his forearm. He growled possessively at the slip of the name, his right hand fisting clumps of your hair to angle your head up to watch you both in the mirror.

“Does Bucky fuck you like this? Mm?” Jealousy dripped from his words as his metal hand smacked your rear hard before gripping the reddened flesh to cool the area.

You couldn’t think, you watched as your thighs jumped at each pound of his hips, the way your mouth had sat slack ever since he shoved his length into you, drool poured from your lips but you didn’t care— you couldn’t care— not with how cock drunk you were.

He smacked your ass again, this time when he gripped the flesh he pulled your cheek to the side, parting your ass before launching a fat glob of spit that ran from your tight little asshole to the spot where you two joined.

“I asked you a fucking question!” He pushed forward, teeth finding the lobe of your ear and biting down, the action pulling a squeaked moan from your swollen mouth.

“No-no he can’t, he can’t… please Soldier I’m so close” You wailed, one of your own hands travelling down to play with your neglected clit. The soft touch of your fingers had you jerking back to meet him.

“Mmm, Отчаянный щенок (desperate puppy)… you cum when I say you can” he was panting now, hips hammering into you at a slightly sloppier pace; It wouldn’t be long until he found his own release as well.

He moaned loudly, he had no control over his own body now, driven only by decades of primal unsatisfied lust. He thrust harder if it were possible, his wild blue eyes glaring at your fucked out face through the cracks in the mirror.

“You ready pup?” he asked between loud groans.

“Mmm, so ready солдат (soldier)” you slurred, your head hung loosely between your shoulders when his hand slipped down your spine, you’d lost all energy to hold it up ages ago— you’d been relying solely on the tight grip he had on your hair.

“Augh, shit” he growled almost animalistic through clenched teeth, his damp forehead settling on the silky skin stretched over your shoulder blades. He thrust deeply one last time.

“Cum angel…cum…cum on me” the words fell from his mouth along with slurs of broken Russian as he painted your walls white, his cock twitched against your vice grip as you silently screamed at your own release.

You hadn’t the faintest clue how long you two basked in the after glow of whatever you had just done, your mind only coming back to you when you felt his softening length pull from your aching heat. The feeling of your mixed juices slipping from your hole had you almost coming for a second time, especially when you felt his cold fingers drag up the mess it made in your thigh before he pushed it back into your core.

His arms lifted you up with him as he backed up until he sat on a rickety cot in the corner of the room. You had no idea if it would hold both your weights but it was the last thought to cross your mind when his thick arms wrapped around your waist, his flesh fingers rubbing soothing circles over your hip bone. He kissed you, tenderly, before flopping his head onto the almost flat pillow.

You were almost asleep when you heard the deep rumble of his voice behind you. “Who the hell is Bucky?”

-

I have an insatiable appetite for jealous Bucky.

I also desperately needed to write something for the world’s favourite Soldat because I would not sleep peacefully tonight thinking of this and not sharing.

Hope you enjoyed x

[flrlgreen]

jealousy, jealousy (toji fushiguro x reader) + twt prn link

a/n: thank you for the support on my last two posts! i appreciate it so much! here’s some filthy toji action tho. i apologize again for any mistakes i'm always tired.

cw:  age gap, sex toys, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, reader has a vagina, name-calling, recording, use of the names slut, whore, princess, and baby girl, possessiveness, size kink, teasing.

link

Having a much older boyfriend wasn’t for the faint of heart. Being a sophomore in college and dating a man who was in his late 30s proved to be challenging at times. Although he took care of your every single need and made sure you never went without. There were times when you couldn’t stand him. 

He knew that dating a young woman in college would be hard. After all, you know what they say about college life. Toji was a possessive man and would do anything to show that you were his. Never mind the age gap between you two. When he found out that Gojo Satoru, a classmate that you were supposed to work on a project with, had asked you out it took every ounce of his being not to tear that man apart. 

It didn’t help that you kept telling him that it didn’t mean anything and that his constant possessive behavior made you want to break up. It just ignited something in him. 

Right now your boyfriend was towering over your smaller frame. It made you rub your thighs together. “So, you wanna break up do you?” He said in a low register. All you could get out was a meek ‘yes’. He laughed when he heard your response and his thumb found your chin. He forced your gaze to meet his.

It felt like he was burning holes in you with his eyes. You couldn’t even manage to make eye contact. “Look at me Doll.” A small tinge of anger was laced with his words. “No.” You knew he wouldn’t like your reply, but getting him frustrated was a part of the fun. “No?” He says and before you could even process what he had said he grabs your waist and hoists you over his shoulder. 

“Toji! Put me down!” You banged your fists on his broad and strong back and it didn’t phase him one bit. He threw your smaller body on the bed and flipped you over. He wasted no time getting on top of you. You felt his hard cock on your ass. “I’m gonna give you one more chance to change that attitude.” He leans in and says next to your ear. “Fuck off.” You spit. Toji’s hand finds your ass and gives it a harsh pinch. “Stay right here, and don’t fucking move.” 

At this point, you’re leaking, and despite wanting to get under Toji’s skin for irritating you, you know better than to move. You feel his body leave the bed and you hear some shuffling before he climbs back into bed and gets behind you. You look up and into the mirror in front of you. “Arch, now.” He demands and you oblige. “Good girl.” He smiles and grabs the dildo he had in hand. You watch as he reaches over your arched body and suctions the dildo to the mirror. “Suck it now.” “R-right now?” You stutter. “Did I stutter, Sweetie?” 

Your lips press against the tip of the dildo and Toji watches as he palms himself with one hand and holds your phone in the other. “Don’t be shy now Princess. Show the camera how well you can suck cock.” Knowing you were on camera made you feel like jelly. 

Your tongue swirls around the soft tip of the sex toy before you begin to move your mouth down the toy inch by inch. As every inch slides down your throat, slurping sounds fill the room as you struggle to take the thick length. “Poor Princess, I know you can take more. You take my huge cock every night.” He teases and rubs your ass, still recording. 

Your throat relaxes around the inches before you take the remaining inches down your warm throat. “That’s a good girl.” Toji groans while pulling his boxers down. You make eye contact with your boyfriend in the mirror while you gag and choke on the fake cock. “Show Gojo how well you can suck cock.” That’s when you realize. Toji is recording this to send to him. The thought alone makes you want to pass out in embarrassment but also makes you hot.

 

Knowing this was going to your flirty classmate, you had to put on a show. You bob your head up and down the length while looking directly into the phone’s camera. Drool ran down your chin and fell onto the bed sheets. Your throat bulged and your eyes rolled to the back of your head every time you went down to the base. “So good at choking on cock. What a slut.” Your boyfriend mutters and pulls your skirt and panties down in one tug. 

“Take it all, and stay there.” Toji uses his free hand to give his thick cock a few experimental pumps before lining it up with your dripping cunt. He shifts the focus of the camera down to where you two are about to be connected. “So fucking wet, all for me. No one else.” He hisses and shoves his entire cock in all at the same time. “God damn,” He groans. No words can escape your mouth that don’t sound muffled.

The sudden feeling of being filled to the brim with Toji’s cock was otherworldly. You cry around the sex toy that’s stuffed down your throat while Toji starts moving. His brutal thrusts make your lower half flash with pleasure every time he hits that sweet spot inside you. “My baby has the tightest little pussy, doesn’t she?” He says all while not slowing down one bit. “Oh wait, your mouth is full isn’t it?” He laughs. “Only I can make you feel this good.” His tone was so deep and laced with so much jealousy like you had never heard before.

The gagging and smacking sounds continued and it was all becoming too much. Toji would occasionally angle the camera downwards so Gojo could of course get a full view of his assault on your pussy, and make direct eye contact with you in the mirror while he made you gag and cry. 

He noticed your body was beginning to show signs of giving out. “Aw, baby. Is it too much?” You nodded with your throat full. “You wanna cum don’t you Princess?” A muffled ‘yes’ was all that came out of your mouth while his tip kissed your cervix with each deep thrust. “God, I’m gonna cum to. Cum for me whore.” That was all you needed. Your knees shook and gave out while your orgasm washed over you and your boyfriend’s thrusts became sloppier. The now-soaking toy slipped from your throat as you melted into the bed. 

“Fuck, I came so fucking much,” Toji says and pans the camera down to the mess he made all over your pussy and ends the video.

Send.

[captainmalewriter]

More Than a Costume

It was supposed to be just a one-time gag. At least, that was what Jake told himself when he first bought the bodysuit. And maybe he did believe it at first. He’d buy the bodysuit, wear it, and show up at his friend’s costume party for cheap laughs. Jake was certainly the talk of the party when he showed up with an all-new identity. After all, who could’ve expected that the lanky white guy would come looking like a genuine Latino with tattoos and a goatee? The bodysuit was so realistic that people didn’t believe him when he said he was actually just Jake wearing a costume. It even earned him 1st place in the costume contest, too!

Once the costume party was over, Jake didn’t know what to do with the bodysuit. He couldn’t return it now that it was used, and after spending $100 on it, Jake didn’t feel right about just throwing it out after only wearing it once. So he decided it would just remain hanging at the back of his closet until the occasion called for it. But as time passed, Jake found himself wanting to wear it again. No matter what he did, his mind wandered back to the Latino bodysuit. It was almost like it was subliminally calling out for him, begging him to wear it again. Jake tried to resist its call, but then he gave into the temptation one night. 

Jake took out the bodysuit from the depths of his closet and held it in his hands. The rubbery suit felt cool against his fingertips. When he first bought the suit, Jake was shocked by how lifelike the synthetic skin looked and felt. Even after some time, he was still thoroughly impressed by it. 

Not wanting to waste any more time, Jake zipped down the zipper on the back of the bodysuit and stretched the opening wide. Jake stuck his leg down the leg of the costume then did the same with the other as he began to pull up the suit to his waist. The sensation of his flaccid dick slipping into the bodysuit’s much girthier cock made goosebumps run up his spine as the cold, rubbery skin touched and wrapped around his warm groin. A shivering moan escaped Jake’s lips as his junked settled into the bodysuit like a snug jockstrap cup. 

Jake was much skinnier than the bodysuit, making for a loose fit as he continued putting it on. He stuck his arms into the sleeves of the bodysuit. His thin fingers slipped into the suit’s burly hands. He brought the suit up to his shoulders, then threw the head of the costume over his face like a helmet. Jake bounced around with glee once he had the suit completely on. The suit hung loosely over his face, chest, and other spots around his body like baggy clothes. Although it was clearly much too big for his small body frame, Jake wasn’t worried. All it took was a few minutes for his body heat to “activate” the bodysuit and bring it to life. He took a deep breath as he felt the oversized bodysuit shift and adjust to his size until it was a perfect fit. What was once a cold, lifeless suit made out of synthetic skin transformed into a living, breathing person like any other once Jake put it on. So long as he kept his lips shut, nobody would ever be able to tell there was a white man controlling this synthetic Latino body. 

“Mmm… ¡mi nuevo cuerpo se siente magnífico!” Jake purred as he ran his forefinger through his scruffy facial. He massaged his neck as he spoke with his new, thick Puerto Rican accent. As someone with a relatively high-pitched voice and couldn’t grow anything beyond peach fuzz, Jake was jealous of other men who had the masculine features he always found attractive. 

He took a look at his handsome new face in the mirror and winked at himself. Jake felt right at home in his new skin and identity. As he donned the multiple piercings that came with his purchase before heading out for a night of fun as Rodrigo, Jake had no idea what putting on the bodysuit for a second time would do to his psyche. Bodysuits were addicting to wear. They made every physical sensation stronger, including and especially pleasure. That was a lesson that Jake would have to learn the hard way as he continued living as Rodrigo for days on end, refusing to take it off as he had fully convinced himself that he was always a Latino man and not some rubber bodysuit.

[tpwk-formula1]

Lando, Sicilian Crust, Red Sauce, Pepperoni, Tomatoes, Mushrooms, Coke, Root beer, Lemonade, Sparkling Water.

But the scenario is the readers got thick thighs, and she’s a little chubby (coming from a chubby girl🥹), she’s constantly talking down on her self and insecure. And lando won’t have it, so he is desperate to make her feel better about herself. (Make sex in front of a mirror?) 

Lee-Lee's Pizzeria Menu

sicilian dating red sauce rough sex pepperoni "Be a good girl, and you'll get what you want" tomatoes "Do you enjoy pissing me off?" mushrooms "Wrong, wanna try again" coke spanking root beer daddy kink lemonade body worship sparkling water spitting dessert yes served by Lando Norris

AN - Omg yay! I loved getting this request as I am also a fellow chubby girl! If anyone else has plus size requests please send them in as I am passionate about wanting there to be representation for everyone <3 Lee-Lee

TW - spanking, spitting into mouth, blow job, unprotected sex, cum swallowing, some degrading terms, body worship and appreciation

WC

Y/N POV

I groan again while staring into the mirror. I knew I wasn't the ideal wag and I will never understand why Lando had picked me. The reflection in the mirror showed me a girl with thighs that touched, wide-set hips, and a belly that most people made sure to point out in the comment section of any photos released of me.

I stare a few more seconds before I start pinching at my sides trying to see how soft they had grown over the past few months. I feel the tears well in my eyes when I realize nothing is changing. I had tried dieting but then after a few weeks and a couple pounds down I find myself giving up again.

I'm so lost in my own world of self-hatred I don't hear Lando come home and I sure as hell don't hear him come into the bathroom leaving again the door frame with his arms crossed.

"Do you enjoy pissing me off?" Lando suddenly announces making me jump slightly and wrap my arms around my body to try and hide still embarrassed at being caught.

"Lando, I- I was just getting ready for the day," I lie softly not even believing myself. Lando raises a brow at me before approaching making me step back slightly. When Lando reaches me he softly removes my arms from my body just eying me up and down. I feel myself growing red in embarrassment not enjoying the feeling of his eyes on my bare body.

Wordlessly Lando takes my hips into his hands gently squeezing them before turning me towards the mirror so I can stare at myself. With Lando standing behind my I feel his arms wrapped around my hips while starting to trail his hands up and down in admiration.

"So beautiful," Lando mumbles softly placing a soft kiss on my should. I try my best to keep eye contact with Lando not wanting to see my body against his touch knowing my thighs would dwarf his wandering hands.

"I love you," Lando says softly starting to trail kisses around my shoulders and the back of my neck making my breathing pick up.

"So fucking beautiful," Lando says while pinching my hip softly before rubbing it in a soothing manner.

"Watch yourself in the mirror," Lando says roughly making my eyes instantly snap to where his hand is now wandering up my sides grazes his touch past my stomach roll before settling his hands near my face.

When his fingers graze my lips he mutters a soft beautiful before trailing his hands to my heavy tits giving them a stong squeeze making me gaso.

"These tits are gonna be the death of me one day, so fucking good," Lando says confidently giving one of my nipples a soft flick instantly making it harden.

"And this," Lando started while rubbing my stomach softly making me cringe away from his touch making him drop his hands to his sides and stare at me in the mirror.

"Wrong, wanna try again," Lando says after a moment before bringing his hands back to my stomach this time trying to relax into his touch.

"This stomach you love to pinch and probe at, will one day carry our children. That thought alone makes me hard," Lando says softly making me gasp when he grinds his jean-covered crotch into my thick ass letting me know just the sight of me turned him on.

"I wish you could see yourself through my eyes," Lando adds softly moving his hands down to my thighs giving them a soft rub before landing a soft slap on them making me whine.

"And these fucking thighs! My favorite thing in the world. After a good race, I just wanna burry my face between them, after a bad race I can't wait to get back to the hotel to hide between them and let all my problems away, these are the best thing the Lord could have blessed me with," Lando says softly while rubbing them. He was back to laying soft kisses around my neck before I feel his teeth sink into the side of my neck before leaving a small hickey.

"Oh! And this fucking pussy," Lando says softly digging his fingers through my folds finding them to be coated in a light layer of my juices. Having Lando softly rubbing his hands around my body had definitely turned me on a bit.

"This pussy and the best pussy a man could have. Too bad I will never share it again," Lando says softly before lifting my thigh and resting my foot on the counter so he can burry his fingers into my pussy making me gasp and throw my head back onto Lando's shoulder when he hits my G-spot.

"Feels so good," I whine softly clenching around Lando's fingers before they're ripped out of my pussy leaving me gasping for a breath,

"No daddy," I whine not wanting him to stop.

"Be a good girl, and you'll get what you want. Count them for me," Lando says roughly letting me know he was about to spank me.

The first slap rang out through the room startling me just a bit.

"one" i mumble softly.

"two" I groan a little louder after the second much harsher slap landed on my left ass cheek.

"I love the way your ass shakes when I slap it," Lando said before landing another rough slap on the exact same spot making me scream out softly.

"three," I finally gasp out still trying to catch my breath.

"four," I scream out with the fourth slap lands on the top of my right ass cheek.

"Last one," Lando says softly while rubbing his hand over the last spank he had landed.

"Five, oh my god," I scream while my knees buckle only staying up because of Lando's strong grip. The last one was always the hardest one but today it was so much harder than normal. It knocked the wind out of me in shock.

"Did so good for me. Took your punishment so well baby," Lando says softly turning me around to give me a soft kiss.

"Open," lando says roughly cleaning moving from punishment mode to 'I ned to fuck you right now' mode.

When I part my lips and open my mouth I wait as Lando gather s a bit of spit before spitting right down my throat some hitting my bottom lip making me moan before swallowing.

"Good girl," Lando says before flipping me back to look at myself in the mirror again. Lando was still fully dressed which changed rather quickly cause he started stripping down not having any time to waste.

When I feel Lando poking at my folds I moan softly while pushing my hips back trying to get some kind of stimulation which finally came when Lando roughly sunk down fully into me.

"Oh god," I moan out when his hips hit my sore ass making the the slight burning sensation instantly turn from pain to pleasure.

“It’s too much, daddy,” I moan when Lando speeds up his thrusting making me grip onto the counter harder to make sure I don’t fall.

“Watch the mirror, I want you to see how beautiful you are,” Lando grunts while reaching between our bodies to find my swollen clit to give it a few pinches before rubbing it in circles.

“God, you have the wettest fucking pussy, baby girl,” Lando groans collectiving some on his fingers before bringing his wet fingers to his mouth and cleaning them off while moaning at the flavor.

“You’re fucking delicious baby,” Lando whispers while bringing his fingers back to my clit making me instantly tense around Lando’s cock in anticipation of an orgasm.

“Can I cum,” I moan feeling my orgasm approaching making Lando speed up his actions, and throwing me off the edge and into a knee buckling orgasm as soon as he have me the go ahead.

“Fuck daddy,” I scream out as I feel the peak of my orgasm hit, making the world around me go dark slightly letting my body feel all of the pleasure coursing through my body. Lando helps me ride out the longest orgasm I’ve ever had before softly slipping out of my pussy making me whine from overstimulation.

“On you knees,” Lando grunts making me turn around and drop to my knees and instantly reach for his cock but he pulls away while shaking his head.

“I need you to listen to me real quick,” Lando says making me nod and trail my eyes from his soaked cock up to his eyes to show he has my full attention.

“You are the most beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes on. You have been my best friend our entire relationship and I have loved every aspect of who you are. So I’ll be damned if you hate even the smallest speck on yourself when all I can ever fucking see is perfection,” Lando tells me softly making me smile back at him.

“It’s just hard sometimes. I see the girls who would do anything for even a second of your times. I see the other wags and can’t help but compare. And i see the comments, i know you see them too and while even if I was skinny they would still find a reason to be dicks it’s just hard sometimes,” I tell him softly making him scoff each time I compared myself to someone else but watched as his eyes softened at the mention of the comments.

“All Im saying is I better not come back home to find you pinching your sides or damn near in tears at the sight you see in the mirror,” Lando says back making me nod my head.

“Daddy can I please finish you off now,” I whine getting impatient with staring at his hard cock. Lando just chuckles before stepping closer and leaning down slightly to spit in my mouth again. I savor the flavor this time before swallowing his spit.

When I open my mouth again Lando instantly shoves his cock down my throat making me gag slightly.

“Prettiest fucking slut Ive ever laid eyes on.” Lando groans still on his complimenting run but too lost in the pleasure to not throw in some teasing nicknames.

I feel Lando’s pace start to falter which makes me bob my head faster wanting to keep the same momentum as he starts cumming down my throat.

I do my best to swallow every drop he gives me before he’s slowly pulling out if my mouth. I feel a bit of cum leak down the side of my lips and before I can wipe it away Lando is crashing his lips onto mine now caring about the cum.

“I love you so much! Be nice to yourself,” Lando tells me softly making me nod my head in agreement.

When Lando helps me from the cold ground he draws us a bath. When we both sink into the hot water I can see the stress of the day melt away for Labdo while I i feel all my tense muscles slowly start to relax.

“What triggered it?” Lando asked softly.

“I was getting ready to take a shower and kinda got lost,” i replied back softly making Lando wrap his arms around me a little tighter.

“M’sorry I wasn’t here early to prevent it,” he tells me while leaning down to place a soft kiss on my cheek.

“Wasnt your fault,” I reply back shrugging a little. We both know I would do it again but I also knew it didn’t matter to Lando cause I was always gonna be his girl.

[johnbrand]

Little Brother

With @next-pharaoh

“Eh, dirty Arab,” Markus muttered to himself, squeezing into the aisle seat next to the younger brown man beside him. He could only hope his suit would not get filthy while next to the fellow. Markus was on his way to a meeting across the country, hoping to be promoted to an associate at his law practice.

“I’m sorry, what did you say, zalameh?” Markus’s new acquaintance asked innocently. Markus grimaced at the hair that seemingly covered every exposed part of the young man’s body, and the musk that naturally wafted off of it.

“Nothing, nevermind.” Markus did not want to get into an argument. He was not worried about the other passenger’s size–Markus's hobby of weightlifting would definitely make it an even match–but he was on a plane. They were going to sit together for at least three hours.

“Picking a fight with me is rather bold,” the man beside him warned. “Just because we are in public does not mean your big brother Khalil won’t put you into place. I’ve had no problem doing that in the mosque, remember?.”

The second half of the comment caught Markus off guard. “I’m sorry…what?”

“Do not play dumb, zalameh,” Khalil smirked. “Although I guess skipping that post-secondary education may have slowed you down.”

“N-no, I’m smart…and I’m not Muslim.” Markus struggled to regain his footing, which was surprising for the lawyer of almost ten years. But then, something else began to alarm him. “Wait, what’s happening to my suit?!”

Right before the pair’s eyes, Markus’s suit had begun to dwindle away, pulling back towards his core. The jacket disappeared completely, while the starched button-up softened into a basic graphic tee. Markus’s pleading eyes searched for help but no one seemed to notice his pant legs curling up, becoming sweat shorts that reached halfway across the thigh. Finally, as his premium loafers morphed into beaten sneakers, Markus switched to the offensive.

“You’re doing this aren’t you, you camel-”

“Shh, brother,” Khalil placed a brown finger to Markus’s lips, shushing him. “You don’t want to make a scene, do you?”

Recovering fast, Markus ripped Khalil’s hand away, but then he noticed a new problem. “My-my arms! Why are they…”

“They’ve always been brown,” Khalil stated as they both followed the wave of melanin that flushed over Markus’s arms. “They’re as hairy as mine, but if you joined me in the gym more often than they’d be as buff and strong as mine too.”

Markus’s arms shrunk under Khalil’s comments, now more toned than muscular. “Wha-” 

“And that runner’s build too,” Khalil commented. “Sure you have abs and that thick treasure trail, but it makes you more boyish than man.”

“No, stop it!” Markus exclaimed. And yet no attention was given to him from the other passengers as his frame thinned out into a figure appropriate for a runner.

“At least you have that fat, bushy, Arab cock our family name takes pride in!” Khalil suddenly grabbed Markus’s crotch, both of them noticing the heftier weight. Markus did not understand how, but he could feel his white sperm rapidly evaporating within Khalil's grip.

“B-but I’m not Arab…and I’m a lawyer…and I’m-”

“You're my little brother,” Khalil finished, grabbing Markus’s face. “Praise Allah I have patience for your misunderstandings.”

Markus was going to comment, but instead was distracted by a foreign feeling on his chin, “Since when do I have a goatee…?”

“Since you could grow one, zalameh. You’ve wanted to be like me ever since you were little.”

Markus groaned. “I don’t...ow, my head...”

“By Allah you practically are like me at this point,” Khalil chuckled. “One could even confuse us for twins.”

“No…that can’t be…true.” Struggling, Markus got up. To his surprise, Khalil did not stop him–nor did anyone else for that matter–as he stumbled towards the bathroom. He had to see if it was true. Markus had to know if…

“Subhanallah!”

With the mirror in front of him, Markus was able to witness what Khalil had meant. Reflected back was a young Arab man, no older than 25. Attractive in a boyish way, but still held that Arab hair and funk that many brown men were proud of. Markus’s eyes began to water, but before he could cry his phone received a notification.

“Marwan, what’s taking you so long! We are about to take off!!"

Marwan shook his head, what was he just thinking about? It probably did not matter anyway. Luckily his older brother Khalil was looking out for him once again. Admiring his own brown, masculine beauty and quickly thanking Allah for it, Marwan left the bathroom to return to his brother. Khalil was beaming from ahead, eagerly awaiting him.

[takamimami]

hii! 🫀 anon here. i saw ur event post and just knew i HAD to request!!

i wanted to request a law x fem reader nsfw piece with 1. Our bodies fit so well together and 2. Everything alright?” “I just missed you.”(from the fluff prompt) if two isn’t okay then you can scratch the 2nd one! maybee some size kink and tummy bulge too 😽 also i love that you use angel sm in your writing law saying absolutely filthy shit w the angel pet name would be the end of me

congrats on the 100 followers <3!!! you deserve every single one and more!

Ohhhhh 🫀 anon, my precious, thank you so so much for your kind words and continued support <3 I'm not going to lie, I squealed a lil bit when I read this DELICIOUS request. I hope I did your idea and our moody boy justice with this, and I hope you enjoy the read :3

Law x F!Reader - NSFW - “Our bodies fit so well together" & "Everything alright?” “I just missed you.” STORY UNDER THE CUT - MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DNI 🔞 CW: SMUT; overstimulation, law makes you squirt :3, mirror sex, pussy-drunk law, fluff and smut, lots of praising, law edging himself bc he missed you, law calls you 'angel' --- word count 1.2k

The drag of Law’s thick cock along your walls has you panting as he thrusts into you slowly, each deep thrust sending a shock wave of pleasure through your entire being. The two of you had been at this for hours, both your bodies slick with sweat as a hint of concern creeps into the back of your mind at the fact that your boyfriend hadn’t finished yet. He’d just returned from a stint with the Straw Hats in Punk Hazard, and instead of enjoying the warm welcome the crew had prepared for him, he whisked you away to his quarters almost immediately. The two of you had barely gotten the door shut before his fingers were inside you - not that you minded - but it was a slight cause for concern you knew you’d have to address when this was over.

You knew Law to enjoy teasing and edging both of you occasionally when you went at it, but you’d lost count of how many orgasms he’d pulled from you tonight a while ago. You knew he was close - you could practically feel his cock pulse each time he bottomed out inside of you, his head kissing your cervix as he held you to his chest and groaned into your neck. But just when his thrusts increased pace and you were sure he would tumble over into euphoric bliss with you, he pulled out of you completely.

“Everything okay?” You ask, looking up at him as he stands from the bed, his hulking frame hovering over you as he pulls you to the edge of the bed by your ankles. He leans over, his chest muscles rippling as he wraps his arms around your waist and lifts you into his arms, carrying you in the direction of the bathroom and setting you down on the counter before hitching your legs around his hips. His grey eyes are glossy as he looks down at you, pupils blown out with lust as his raspy voice cuts through the silence.

“‘M fine, angel, I just missed you,” he croons roughly as he slides his hips forward into yours, his eyes dropping down to where you two are once again connected as he sheaths himself inside your velvet walls once more. “Missed you so fucking much.”

Your back arches and your lips fall open with a moan as he pumps himself into you roughly, his short and shallow thrusts prodding at the gummy walls of your g-spot. Law smiles wickedly at the affirmation, eyes trained on the slight bulge of him in your abdomen as he works himself deeper and harder inside of you. He pulls you to the very edge of the counter, the veins in his arms popping as he supports the weight of you with one arm slung under your hips, the other pressing down on your lower abdomen where his eyes had been trained moments ago. 

You knew this spelled out the end for you, your body immediately going slack against the cool tile as you felt the familiar sensation rise in your gut. Your mind was spinning as you prepared for an earth-shattering orgasm, one Law somehow knew how to pull from you like it was his god-given purpose in life. 

“Relax angel,” he coos, chest now hovering over you, his larger frame encompassing nearly all of you as he looks down at you, his face quite possibly the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen in this pussy-drunk haze he was in. You comply, and the cord inside you tightens as you screw your eyes shut, each one of Law’s thrusts pressing you harder and harder into the counter.

“That’s it, angel, make a mess for me.”

His words snap the cord, your orgasm crashing over you harshly as your hips begin to buck into his thrusts. Law digs his fingers into your hips as he holds you steady, leaning into the counter for support as he thrusts into your soaking cunt. Your release begins to spray out of you, splashing onto his torso and the floor as he pulls out, the pressure being too much so he instead replaces his cock with his fingers, curling them up into your g-spot and pulling even more waves of pleasure from you.

Your eyes remain shut, stars twinkling behind your eyelids as waves of pleasure ripple through your body. You’re not sure if you’re even making any sounds, but your mouth goes dry as your orgasm starts to subside, Law’s fingers working tirelessly against you until he’s sure he has pulled every last drop from you. 

He can’t resist the temptation to drop to his knees and swipe his tongue over your swollen lips, a strangled cry ripping out of your chest from the over-stimulation as your hand pushes his face away.

“Wait, wait,” you pant breathlessly, needing a moment to recover from the intensity of your last orgasm. Law chuckles below you, standing up to hover over you again, his body coated in your release as he presses his entire self into you, pulling you into a sitting position.

Your body is weak, hopelessly so, and you can’t help the groan that leaves your body when your eyes drop down to Law’s cock, the tip blushed and swollen.

“How have you not come, yet?” you ask with a laugh, tensing as he chuckles back and slides you off the edge of the counter. Your legs are shaky as they try to keep you upright, and you’re grateful for Law’s strong arm around your waist otherwise you may have ended up on the floor.

“I just can’t get enough of you,” he croons, your eyes meeting his in the mirror before trailing along the tattooed arms that held you flush against him. You hiss as he slides back into your sensitive cunt, and he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck to pepper gentle kisses there. “You got one more for me, angel?”

You moan lightly and lean your head back against his shoulder, feeling your walls clamp around him as he begins moving inside you again. 

“Look how perfectly our bodies fit together,” he rasps, and you open your eyes to meet his fiery gaze in the mirror. His arms wrapped tightly around you, his hips jacking into yours as your back arches with each movement. “It’s like you were made for me.”

You hum as his pace increases, a hand sliding down to rub gentle circles on the sensitive bundle of nerves at the apex of your thighs. Your moan comes out as more of a whimper from the contact, and your hands fly out to brace yourself on the counter in front of you as Law presses himself deeper inside of you. 

“You’re gripping me so tight, angel,” Law groans, feeling the familiar flutter starting in your core as he speaks, “So, fucking, tight… So perfect.”

His babbling is met with a string of moans from you, your brain going fuzzy from the praise. “Law, come for me,” you beckon, teetering on the edge of release as you clamp down on his length, trying to bring him over the edge with you.

You’re successful, and Law buries his face into your neck again as he feels his own cord snap, thrusts growing sloppy as his cock pulses inside you. You’re so absorbed in watching Law shatter behind you that you barely comprehend the way your body shakes in his arms, milking every last drop from him while he strings together curses into your neck.

His hips finally still, and he holds you tightly against him - his breathing shaky as he tries to ground himself again. He hisses when he finally pulls himself from your grip, an instant rush of both your releases trails down your leg.

He loosens his grip around your body and moves his hands to your hips, gingerly leading you over to the tub and running the two of you a warm bath. He sprinkles some essential oils into the tub before scooping you up into his arms and settling into the water. You straddle him as he leans back against the tiles, your head resting on his chest as the water soothes your now sore muscles.

“I love you, angel.”

The words pull your gaze up to him, lifting your head so that you’re at eye level with him, before connecting your lips to his in a gentle kiss. When you pull away you can see a hint of something lingering in his eyes, and you know there is something under the surface that he was still unpacking. You don’t press it, instead offering him a gentle smile to tell him that you’ll be here when he’s ready to talk.

“I love you, Law, and I missed you, too.”

[lonelystarrs]

𝑷𝒓𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒚 𝑳𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝒀𝒐𝒖

𝐖𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐰𝐨𝐥𝐟! 𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢 𝐅𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐨 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Toji didn’t think he’d ever change for a woman again, turns out he did for a pretty little thing like you, he just wasn’t expecting it in this way —bet you really thought the joke about him being a werewolf was funny now.

Warnings 18+ MDNI seriously. Kinktober + extremely descriptive + monsterfucking + werewolf Toji + knots + breeding + size kinks + dubcon + mirror +

Tbh this was pretty rushed and basic, but let’s be honest only here for the smut when it’s kinktober 😂🫶🏻

It started over a year ago, all over a simple wound that Toji had from what he assumed was a curse at the time.

The claw marks had ran so deep across his back it exposed bone, the blood loss was life threatening but his ignorance took him towards his home, not towards help.

That’s when you came into the picture, pretty little you.

An off duty nurse who’s happened to be walking home to meet a stumbling Toji bleeding out near the building where he lived. Being ever so loyal to her duty as a nurse you helped. He remembered your eyes, your hair, how warm and soft your hands were and he remembered how you smelt. It stood out from the cold air, the smell of fresh rain and it was weirdly comforting, a clean yet sweet smell.

You’d stopped the bleeding, getting him to hospital for treatment and all you were was a memory, some pretty thing leaning over him slumped in a way that wasn’t dignifying what so ever and especially not how he usually met women.

He healed faster than expected, way faster than anything they’d ever seen before. Within two days he was healed with nothing but a large, clawed scar down his back, from his right shoulder to his left side under his ribs.

He took himself home, a bag of take out in hand as he stood in the elevator taking him up to his floor. The other hand shoved into his pocket staring mindlessly at the ceiling panel.

When it dinged and the doors opened he stepped out, colliding with someone much smaller than him and that someone was you.

Falling back into your ass from colliding with sheer force that was Toji Fushiguro, and in true Toji style he didn’t aid your fall he very much let it happen. Looking down at you and tilting his head, green eyes staring at your incredible legs long and toned leading straight up to those pretty black lace panties you had on under the shorter loose leather skirt that had rode up.

The little lace top you had on left little to the imagination, denim jacket a little ruffled from your fall, and nice black strappy heels on with red bottoms —which he didn’t expect.

Your hair framed you, thick and wavy, all done up for your little night out. Tits pushed up and face with light make up.

It was the second time he’d ever seen you and the first time he made contact with you, lazily reaching out a hand but not bending to you —he only done it because you helped him a few days ago.

You took it letting him pull you up with such force it thrusted you into his chest and he smirked, tilting his head giving you another once over because you really were such a pretty little thing.

“Oh! You’re uh- well you’re looking much better, it was only a few days ago and they’ve released you?”

“I left.”

“You’re moving well, what are you a werewolf?”

“A werewolf?”

Toji snorted a laugh at you and you laughed waving your hand around flippantly from your goofy joke. You thought he was one who those shitty dog looking things in classic old horror films?

“I was joking, y’know? It was a big claw mark and you’re out of hospital in days with a wound that went bone deep…”

“Just a real man doll, I ain’t howling at no moon.”

It turns out you lived in the same complex as him having rich parents but still studying as a nurse, once Toji found out the money he started taking an interest because even in his late thirties he wasn’t going to change.

He thought he wasn’t anyway but you made him feel something rare —and that was feeling a lil bad about taking advantage of you. He knew from past experience with his deceased wife that he maybe had a second chance of redemption, because that’s how he started feeling with her.

Your caring nature was a given, you were a nurse, so when Toji suddenly came down with a full blown fever you’d been there again, your hands feeling colder this time on his hot skin, your voice soothing him and that smell of you was lulling him. He’d pulled you in and buried his nose into you, inhaling like an animal as he started to grope every inch of you desperately, it gave him some relief.

Apparently he was changing in more ways than just seeing you as a source of money and sex, because it turned out that in fact, Toji was howling at full moons nearly four weeks later.

It started with restlessness and a mild fever, nothing too out of the ordinary in your line of work, but it wasn’t normal for Toji —he didn’t get sick. But something was crawling under his skin, his cock throbbing under his joggers and no matter how many times he fucked it into his fist he wasn’t cumming. His hand ran through his sweaty hair, pushing it out his face as he looked down at his far above average cock, an angry red and drooling precum with his hand curled around it.

It was throbbing, rock solid, he could feel the pulsing in it and he was burning from over stimulation, the rage in lack of release was only adding to the feral feeling biting across his skin as he felt his patience all but slipping.

Then his nose caught a whiff of something, something that made his cock flex in his hand and drive an instinct he didn’t know he had. Green eyes scanned the room, landing on a top of his you’d been wearing. When he lifted it to his face he moaned, eyes rolling back into his sockets and the pleasurable pulse sent to his cock was euphoric… that sweet smell of you was opening that door he was banging against.

His hips rolled into his fist, cock sliding into it smearing the overload of precum to make a wet hole to fuck into and his pace was feral, heaving in air between inhaling the scent you’d left over it. His mind too clouded to realise what exactly he was doing but chasing only a feeling.

You didn’t last a second when you returned home after your shift in work, he’d jumped on you and fucked you like you were his life line, a feral, blind pleasure that burned under his skin, only feeling it cool when you pressed against him. Burying his face into your neck and breathing you in like oxygen.

And he felt fucking incredible, fucking you felt unworldly.

Day two he’d been running such a high fever that wasn’t going down, reaching a temperature that was almost inhuman. He’d crashed into a sleep and you’d used the opportunity to shower. The towel was ripped from you as soon as your feet entered the bedroom and you were pressed against the wall, legs thrown over his shoulders as he lifted you.

But it wasn’t Toji.

His coat was so black he blended into the darkness of the room, silver teeth bared and green eyes illuminated like the full moon.

With your back pressed to the wall and werewolf! Toji lifting you on his shoulders as your thighs tightened around his head. Your hands gripping and pulling at his black fur as that long tongue worked its magic, so long it was fucking your dripping hole and rubbing against your clit at the same time. It didn’t take long for spit and cum to run down your ass and legs as he was edging you towards cumming on him again and you bucked wildly against him.

It should be wrong —holy shit this should be wrong.

But those glowing green eyes below you were feral, those jaws so large that you literally fit between them as he ate you out. His clawed hands under your thighs to prevent him from piercing you with those almost silver-white teeth.

You couldn’t breath as your body was driven into over stimulation and he wasn’t letting up on his restless attack with his tongue.

He was growling under you, something rumbling in his chest and you could feel it vibrating on his tongue. When you tried to pull away, tried to lift yourself from him his ears flattened, his lips curled and he bared his teeth with a snarl.

The only reason you calmed were his eyes and you knew it was him, even if you wanted to fight you couldn’t but you just needed a break to breathe. He looked silly in the apartment despite how big it was, Toji was a huge man regardless but this added to the huge form that he was.

“T-Toji I ca-fuck- I can’t anymore you gotta s-stop-“

Your body thrashed with each harsh lick of his tongue, drool dripping down his chin into his coat finding the taste of your cum irresistible, the smell of you was addicting. Toji was an asshole so it wasn’t hard to ignore you begging him to stop as you couldn’t handle it anymore, he was selfish and greedy naturally but when it came to eating you out like this?

Fuck-

The tip of his tongue buried in you felt you clenching again in little pulses as you got closer, he slanted your body to one claw keeping under your thigh, the other resting on his shoulder keeping you spread open against the wall. He reached down grabbing his cock, feeling the knot forming at the base —it felt different, besides the size difference.

He fisted himself and his hips started to move in time with it.

“M’gonna cum- fuck, hah, T-Toji s’good -holy shit-“ you were slurring words that meant nothing, weightless as your vision went white and stars appeared and with perfect timing he lifted from your clit and let his entire length of his tongue fill you roughly, he looked up to see your eyes roll back and your head rolled against the wall.

“Fu-Fucking hell,”

He stroked his dick steadily as you came around his tongue, hips stuttering as your body was slack against him and the wall. Withdrawing his tongue and head he pulled back, the taste of you filling his mouth, mouth watering again at the sweetness you gave.

He literally shrugged your thighs off his shoulders, his hands gripping your ass as you slid down the wall catching you with your legs falling over his thick forearms. He angled you so his hard, upright dick pressed against your entrance, your hands gripping his biceps, lacing under the black coat and your eyes widened as you realised he wasn’t letting you catch your breath.

Regretting looking down to see he wasn’t his body that had just change but the size of his already worthy dick had doubled, pre was drooling from the slit and it was flexing angrily.

“W-wait Toji that’s too big you-“

He pressed the tip to you and pushed, panting as his green eyes watched his cock start to stretch you out and it was tight. Toji bullied his way in, his forming knot pressing against your clit, your jaw slacked and no noise left you. The stretch was painful, but with how he was pressing against your spread open clit was just enough to distract you.

Toji growled when he eyed the bulge in your stomach and he flexed inside you watching it move. Clawed hands planted against the wall behind you, either side of your waist with your legs still over his forearms, the position was awkward being wedged between the wall him like this.

“T-Toji p-please g-go easy, it’s too big I’m-“

His hard thrust back into you cut you off as your breath hitched in your throat, nails digging into his chest and your toes curled. 

“You’ll take it how it comes,”

your eyes widened as you looked up at him with worry, finally hearing him speak, his own voice mixed with something else thrown in. Your body contradicting your worry, his words made you pulse around him and he chuckled, green eyes meeting yours.

Shifting an arm to snake around your waist to hold you in place as he pulled back his cock, watching the slick glistening on it and he slammed back into you, starting a pace that was cruel. Your arms wrapped around his long nose and jaws clamping them together, pulling him into your chest hugging him and pressing your forehead to his.

“Holy shi-hah, it’s too big, it’s too- I’m gonna cum, I’mgonnacum!”

You sounded panicked but all he focused on was the wet plap, plap, plap of his inhuman dick spreading you open cause it was fucking beautiful to watch. Slick and cum coating his knot as it formed a sticky link everytime it touched your clit.

And he lost it.

You only made whimpering and strangled noises as he fucked you hard, every other thrust trying to push his knot in to plug you, failing drew a pissed off snarl from him that made him pull away along with his cock.

He threw you across the room to your bed and you tried to crawl away, his grip on your ankle slid you back down the bed and in his desperation he pinned you to it, rutting clumsily against the back of your thighs and ass trying to find your pussy.

“Stay, brat-“

He snarled into your ear and you groaned into the bed as he snarled in your ear and arched your hips back, a dull ache in your cunt from being stretched so much but pulsing to have it again.

Unhappy with the position he shifted, green eyes catching himself in the huge floor length arch mirror, he gripped the backs of your thighs and pulled you up. Your back to him you reached back to grab him to balance yourself. His cock slapping against your exposed pussy as he walked to the large mirror, spreading you out. He nuzzled his nose into your neck.

“Put it in before I force it-“

You reached down pressing your fingers to the underside of his head, pressing it against yourself as he lifted you until he felt your swollen hole, impaling you on his cock, watching the bulge appear in your stomach again and he let you watch, let you see what he was seeing.

Green eyes flickering from your face to his knot bouncing against you, begging to plug you, he could feel it resisting less in this position and when he’d just had enough he paused and forced you down to take it.

Your pained whimper only spurred him on, his thrusts switching to short but hard, your body bouncing off each thrust as you went crossed eyed, drooling with only noises leaving you as he made you watch him fucking you dumb.

He gave no warning when he came, only some whine that left his throat. His hips jolting up into you as his knot swelled locking him in you.

“S’too much- m’full, no more -Toji I can’t-“

“Cum it out then,”

You were shaking against him, your whole body struggling to keep up with him like this, but it was so hot watching him plug you, fill you up and seeing that bulge in your stomach.

So you reached down, one finger rolling over your buzzing clit and your hips jolted in reaction to how sensitive it was, your nerves burning with each circle and swipe on your clit, watching your hole clenching and pulsing around him.

You came with tears streaming down your cheeks, pushing so hard his softening cock pulled from you followed by the ridiculous amount of cum he’d fucked into you.

He nuzzled into you, gracing his teeth over your neck as you came back from seeing stars, tranced by the sight of the mess he’d made of you, holding you up like you were nothing as his green eyes glowed.

“We ain’t done, doll.”

©pharix/lonelystarrs 2023 permission is not given to repost, translate or post anywhere else.

Dividers all on my side blog for credits as per 🫶🏻

[legend-the-dumb-jock]

I have always had a hard time gaining muscle since I have a genetic problem in that area and I look younger than I am because I am a pasty white ginger. My dream has always been to be one of those huge hairy lumberjacks. I wish you could get me a job as one and within a few days I grow into my new roll.

Gingers are amazing. It sounds like we just need to set you on the right track. Sleeping through the night you have dreams of muscle. Hair. And being a lumberjack. Little did you know that while you sleep your body begins to change. Getting on the right bath. You grow taller from 5’6” to a giant 6’2”. You feet hang off the bed ! And muscle begins to grow. Real hulking your frame up. Massive arms hang from your sides while massive pecs form over a strong core ! And hair grows. And lots of it. Soon you’re a wirey mess of hair and muscle. Sweat is pouring off your body and staining the end sheets. Even dripping off your thickened large feet.

Waking up you are shocked to see such a grand change over night. You’re flexing and can’t help it ! You can’t wait to show off your new lumberjack body. This is really a dream come true ! Your friends come over and are shocked at your transformation. They don’t even believe it’s you but they can still see it is. Your face even though covered with hair is still recognizable under the thick pelt that’s now on it. They demand to know how this happened. What did you do! And you just smirk and say “well wishes come try to people who ask the right person” and indeed you are right 😈

You enjoy the rest of the evening with your friend. Loving it up as they call you name like ginger bear and the walking barrel! You’re huge ! One downfall so far though is that you notice how much more you sweat. How much hungrier you are. You don’t think you stopped eating all day ! But a growing bean like yourself needs all the calories you can get don’t you? That night you pass out. Those 15 beers really did you in!

While you sleep just like the night before you begin to change again. Hair thickening. Becoming more prominent on your arms and hands even your feet. But one other thing happens. Age. You begin to quickly lose that youthful appearance as you take on a more rugged look. One that is fitting of a lumberjack. One that been doing it for a couple years or so. Lines forming on your face and your muscle growing less defined but non the less till there. You wake up the next morning sore. You sit up in bed and don’t notice anything right off hand other than you back slightly hurting. Calases on your hands and feet have formed. It that’s from being a true lumberjack right? You walk to the bathroom and you’re shocked to see a man I of at least 40 staring back at you !

You step back from the mirror. What is going on!? Your mind is in a panic but your face registered none of these emotions. A lumberjack doesn’t freak out. If anything your body as if on auto pilot gives rush same smirk again and you get dressed. You go out for the day. Getting a beer here and there. Eating! You try to reach out to your friends and they respond back asking who you are. You’re too old to have friends their age now anyway right ? So it’s all part of the magic. You’ll need to find new friends that str more inline with the same path you’re on.

You make it back to your home which you see is slowly changing. Becoming more of a log cabin it looks like. Busting through the door with some tightening shoes and some sweaty pits you stumble to the kitchen with your case of beer. Another 15 in and your already passed out on the couch. And now it’s time for the final change. You age another 10 years. 50! Now you’ve really got some serious life experience as a lumberjack. A thick great beard grows across your face as your timberland boots burrs open at the toes from your feet growing another 4 sizes. 17!! Your nipples point downward on hard slabs of muscle the sag only slightly. You’re snoring louder than ever as your stomach pushes outward. Holding the same rock hard appearance and feel that it has before. But now forcing a massive rock hard muscle gut onto your frame. When you wake up and see the changes this time youre shocked. Internally screaming again. But your body won’t respond to this emotion. Instead. Instinctively open another beer and chug it. And another. And another. You stand up from the couch and kick off your trashed shoes. Your socks have holes in them as you make your way to the bathroom. Stripping off the remnants of clothes that won’t fit anymore you stare at your massive finger bear body in the mirror. “Damn I look good!” You growl. Distended abdomen. Bulging bulking muscle. Massive feet. And so much hair you look like you’re wearing a damn sweater. You smile at your sweaty body. Now the only problem. You’re a lumberjack….but without clothes.

[nova-amor]

MDNI. you’re in a toxic situationship with your fav. 780.

“look at you,” his voice was raspy in your ear, the warmth of his breath fanning across the thin skin of the back of your neck. his frame had consumed you, towering over you as he adjusted you into his desired position. the tip of his shoes nudged at your heels, forcing your legs further apart to accommodate for his size. “look at well you take me, baby— cunt’s practically milking my cock with how tight ya are.”

your eyes drifted down the image of your reflection in the mirror, his own gaze remaining pinned to your face. you drank it all in, the sight of it making you feel hotter and your pussy grow tighter around him.

it was so lewd— he had barely waited a moment after you had arrived at his flat before pouncing on you, sinking both claws and teeth into you. he had been quick to bundle the hem of your skirt up to your waist and tug on your chest until your breasts spilled out the front. 

he hadn’t even bothered to remove your underwear before mounting you, simply pushing the soaked fabric to the side as he slid his length into you without prep. he was going to fuck you now and then at the entrance of his apartment with his mounted mirror as a witness to his greed.

one of his hands pawed at the soft flesh of your chest as he fucked you, pinching and gripping at your tits until they were sore and aching while his other remained planted at your side. his grip on your side was gentler than usual, just enough to keep you in place without bruising the delicate skin underneath.

“don’t you think you look beautiful?” he questioned lowly, his hips slowly retracting from yours before knocking back into you like a spring. your grip on the wall fumbled from his deep thrust, bare feet shuffling against the cold wooden floor as your legs struggled to support your body weight. 

heat blossomed across your face as his hand drifted up from your chest. his thick fingers caressing the delicate skin of your throat before curling under your jaw. he then tilted your head a bit back, just enough for you to feel the thickness of your spit sliding down your throat as his gaze burned into you.

“my beautiful girl, so perfect for me,” he purred, the rough pad of his thumb stroking the curve of your jaw. a needy moan left your lips as his cock dragged against your gspot. another soft whine escaped you when he pressed a little kiss to the side of your forehead, the tip of his nose nudging at your hairline as he did so. 

your half-lidded eyes drooped close at the affection, your body light and warm all around. he was rarely this affectionate with you, rarely displaying his love and appreciation. but, whenever he did— god, did you savor every second of it.

“don’t look away, baby, keep those pretty eyes on me.” he cooed, the short strokes of his cock digging deeper into you. you could feel every inch of him, cunt clenching harder and harder around him to get him to stay. you needed him to stay. when your eyes opened, he gave you a heart-stopping smile, another rarity in your relationship. “atta girl.” he praised.

“keep your eyes open, and watch me. i want you to watch me take care of you, baby,” you swore you were on cloud nine. his kindness and love were almost too much for you to handle. tears pricked at the corner of your eyes, the salt of it burning and blurring your vision. and, with the swipes of his thumb, he wiped them away. “don’t cry, pretty girl,” he spoke softly, his voice calming you. “what’s got you crying?”

“you—” you gasped as his cock found home against your cervix, his balls resting against the underside of your ass. you could almost feel him in your throat. “you’re never this nice t’ me, never— i shouldn’t be cryin’ but—” he was quick to silence your plea.

he pressed another kiss to your temple, mumbling a soft apology against your head. “i’m sorry, baby, i’m so sorry,” he whispered. “i’ll treat you better— lemme make it up to you, lemme take care of you.” but you knew it was another lie, as soon as he had gotten his fill, he would be kicking you back out again.

“okay,” you mumbled, earning another kiss from him as he began to rock his hips again. this would be the last time, you told yourself, the reflection of your gaze scorching you. the last time he would be able to use you.

toji fushiguro, satoru gojo; eren yeager, erwin smith, reiner braun; kentarō kyōtani, kei tsukishima, atsumu miya; any of your favorites ♡

[hederasgarden]

In honour of your newfound love for Clark Kent, can I please ask you about our man in question and his size kink?

Summary: Clark shows you how much he loves you and your body. Pairing: Clark Kent  x Plus Size!F!Reader  Word Count: 800 Warning: 18+ only, explicit sexual content. Unprotected PIV, size kink, discussions of body insecurity, fluff, and mentions of future pregnancy. A/N: Thank you @ryebecca for holding my hand through this! Please comment or reblog if you enjoyed this and want to see more. Or scream at me in my inbox. That always makes my day.

Tonight Clark has you on your hands and knees while his large hands frame your hips. You drop your head and pant as he slowly works himself inside, anticipation curling in your belly. Every time feels like the first, your body fighting to let him in even when you desperately want him. 

"That's it," he praises, kissing your shoulder. "You're doing so good for me, sweet girl."

You groan in response, fingers grasping the bedsheets desperately until finally, his body is flush with yours. It’s almost too much and you shift back seeking relief, but Clark stills your movement. You glance over your shoulder, with a questioning look. 

"I want you to watch yourself," he whispers.

You freeze, a trickle of unease snaking down your spine. Even though he’s never questioned why you keep the lights low, you know Clark understands the reason. You’re uncomfortable seeing yourself like this; it stirs up long-buried insecurities you’ve never voiced for fear he might finally see all the ugly flaws you try to hide.

His name escapes your lips as a strained plea that he’s quick to answer with a tender, reassuring look. You feel an answering tug in your chest, and your resistance melts away. You’d do anything he asked when he looked at you like that – even this. 

A quiet exhale from you is the sign he needs to guide you to meet his gaze through the full-length mirror in the corner. In the soft, muted light of your bedroom, he seems even larger behind you, the outline of his body merging with the shadows. Your eyes linger on the way his fingertips span the length of your jaw as he cradles your face. 

Before Clark, you never felt small. You were always keenly aware of your weight compared to past boyfriends and how different your body looked from the images in magazines. For years, you hid behind flowing dresses and loose clothing, trying to make yourself less and blend into the background. But now, there’s nowhere to hide. You’re exposed and vulnerable, the layers of your self-protection stripped away.

"I want you to see what I see," Clark continues, wrapping a thick arm around your middle to haul you back against him.

The movement pushes him deeper, and your lashes flutter. A coarse, calloused hand glides down the swell of your stomach, dipping to tease your bundle of nerves, while the other cups one of your breasts. He chains kisses along your throat, and your head lolls to the side, watching the mirror through half-lidded eyes.  

“I love every part of you. From these thick thighs,” he murmurs, gently caressing the expanse of skin, “to your beautiful belly that will carry our child one day.”

“Clark…” You shift in his arms, overwhelmed and embarrassed, but he doesn’t let you move.

He tsks, a warm puff of breath teasing the shell of your ear. “I’m not done.” 

He rocks into you with a shallow thrust. There’s hardly anywhere to go but he manages to find the space, stealing your breath. He continues to speak, his gravelly voice washing over you in waves, while his fingers move in slow, teasing circles over your clit. Pleasure builds at the base of your spine, suffusing your body with warmth and want. 

“I think about this all the time,” he groans, grasping your hips and urging you to move. “You’re built to take me,” he praises. “Don’t you see?”

His words draw your focus back to the mirror. Bathed in the soft, flickering candlelight and enveloped in a haze of desire, you find yourself mesmerized by your reflection and the way Clark moves your body with ease. In his arms, you look delicate and vulnerable — fragile. 

His breath falls hotly against your skin when he speaks. "I love all of this, do you know that?" 

A wave of pleasure surges through you, overwhelming your senses. It’s only Clark’s strong hand on your jaw that keeps you from turning away from the scene before you. He comes first, his pale pink lips parting with a shuddery breath as his hips lose their rhythm. The hot, sweet rush of his release filling you up is enough to tip you over the edge.

You lean back into Clark, feeling the gentle tickle of his chest hairs against your skin. He runs a soothing hand up your side as you work to steady your breathing. 

“Thank you,” you whisper, turning to share a deep, tender kiss. 

He grins, cheeks dimpling. “I love you.”

Send me a request

[bigification]

Gamer Dad

"Man, my hair looked so good yesterday." Aaron uploaded the picture to his dating profile. "That just about does it." He said as he typed out the last bit of his bio. "I want to be the type of dad that plays video games with his kids." He clicked 'done' and closed his phone.

Aaron made his way to his bathroom to take a shower. On his short trek to the bathroom, he couldn't help but think about what he wrote down. He was nearly 30 and desperately wanted kids, but he kinda needed a partner before he was going to do that. All he could think about was being a 'cool dad'.

He opened the door and entered his bathroom. He threw off his shirt and turned to the mirror.

He looked confused for a moment as he rubbed his hand through his short hair. "I could have sworn it was longer than this?" He then questioned how his beard seemed busier than it was before, he didn't even think he could grow this kind of beard. The thoughts didn't last long though, he remembered this was always what he looked like. He suddenly remembered he was able to grow a beard like that since high school, and his workout routine from playing football gave him the muscly frame he has now even in his early thirties.

He jumped into the shower, letting the hot water coat his hairy body. He rubbed shampoo into his short hair and scrubbed his thick muscles with body wash. He rinsed off and got out of the shower. He wrapped a towel around his thick waist and... Wait thick waist? Aaron looked in the mirror to see a solid beer belly spilling over his towel.

He was shocked for a moment, he was trying to think of his days in football and his workout routine. But then he remembered that was before he got married. Since then, his husband has been more than happy to cook him fancy meals, which definitely takes a toll. He looked up and saw his balding head. "Well that's just what happens when you get to your late thirties," he reasoned. "At least I got my beard," he said as he rubbed his hands through his thick facial hair.

Aaron tried to put his shorts back on, but they didn't get past his thighs. He let out a deep sigh, this isn't the first time this has happened recently. He made his way to his room to try and find some clothes that fit. He tried on shirt after shirt and multiple pairs of shorts with no success. All the shirts either can't get past his gut or his biceps can't fit through his sleeves. "Damn I didn't think it was that bad." Aaron walked in front of the mirror in his room.

"You've really let yourself go huh?" He scolded himself. "Well I guess it's normal to keep on some weight after being pregnant, I just didn't think it was this bad." He stared at his body intently. "At least you got these guns, not many guys in their forties can say that." He flexed.

After rummaging through his closet, he managed to find some large gym shorts from a few Christmases ago. His husband accidentally bought him a size too big and he kept it for some reason, well it's coming in handy now.

He hobbled his massive body over to his living room and plopped himself down onto his couch. He put his headphones on, feeling the cold padding on his balding head. He leaned back, feeling his gut spill onto his lap. He smiled as he felt his baby kick.

*Click*

The front door opened. "I'm home!" Yusuf yelled. Aaron ran to the kitchen as soon as he heard. He turned the corner and caught his husband undressing.

"Did you pick up the cookies I like?" Aaron asked excitedly.

"Yes" Yusuf replied with a chuckle, "I remembered you liked them when you were pregnant with Jeremy, so I figured you'd want them now."

"I love you so much!" Aaron said as he stuffed a cookie down his mouth.

"You know, you eat like you did with Jeremy, you're gonna gain a bunch of weight again." He said as he leaned in and placed a hand on Aaron's stomach.

"Not my fault you got me pregnant again." Aaron defended.

"Not my fault you're a bottom!" Yusuf retorted.

"Oh you wanna play dirty, huh?" Aaron scoffed.

"I love to play dirty. By the way it's your turn to pick up Jeremy from school." Yusuf said as he continued to get undressed.

"What?"

"Just because you're pregnant doesn't mean you're excused from every chore." He said sarcastically, "besides you're the one who always wants to talk to him about video games."

Aaron sighed in response.

"I bet we have enough time before you have to leave."

Aaron smiled as he followed his husband to their bedroom.

[rrrrinmaru]

tease (sylus x mc)

wc: 4.4k rating: M (for violence) warnings: canon typical violence, blood mention, broken nose

“This isn’t a competition.” His voice is amused, lips pressed tightly together to mask the smile pulling at the corners. “And even if it were one, you’re not in the running.”

“Rude.” Sylus smiles this time, this smug look that makes your fingers itch. You want to wipe it off his face. “Everything’s a competition with you, don’t even pretend to hide it.”

He shrugs. One hand is draped over the inside of his thigh—his legs are spread, thick thighs far apart enough to accommodate your frame if you stand in between them. If you wanted to. If you could bear being that close to him without taking decisive action, like curling your fingers into a fist and jamming it into his pretty face. The other hand is laid out against the table.

His eyes are filled with lazy amusement. He always adopts that look around you, like you’re nothing more than a straggling kitten he picked up off the side of the street. 

“Sheathe your claws, dollface,” Sylus says. He tilts his head to the side and his heavy gaze traces over your form. “This isn’t a competition because you’re not competition.” He pauses, long enough for you to bristle and raise your hackles, then continues, “not yet, at least. Maybe in a few years. Months, if you work hard.”

“I could take you,” you say heatedly, uncaring of how severely outmatched you are. Yes, the man is a good couple centimeters taller than you (and by a couple, you mean a lot). Yes, his shoulders are twice as broad as yours. Yes, his palm is the size of your face and his calves are as thick as your thighs. But just because he’s built like a brick shithouse and then some doesn’t mean you can’t lay him flat out on his ass at least once in a fight.

“Some would argue that retreat is the better part of valor.” 

You scoff. “Some would argue you’re deflecting the question.”

Sylus hums. He drums his fingers idly on the table; the pads of his fingertips tap out a steady beat against the stained oak. “You seem to have quite a bit of wild energy inside you today. Do you need some help letting out some steam?”

“My fist, your face,” you retort. “My knee, your gut. What are you, scared?”

And here’s the thing—you think Sylus thinks he’s above petty provocation. Sylus thinks he’s more mature than someone who will give in to the fighting words of someone with the vocabulary of a kindergartener. Sylus thinks that he won’t sink to your level, or to anyone’s level, really, because he’s above everything.

All about the bird’s eye view, this man. What a lofty attitude. You kind of want to tear at him, from his feet to his knees to his hips, fingers grasping at his clothes to rip them apart as you clamber up the pedestal he’s put himself on. 

But deep down, you also think Sylus’ just a teensy, tiny, little bit competitive. It also helps that no one has had the balls to mouth off to him like you have. Part of the reason you manage to get such strong reactions out of him is because he’s unused to having someone who doesn’t instinctively defer to his authority around his person. 

So when you raise your eyebrows, smirk back at him in a sharp mirror of that smug grin clinging to his lips, saying words like ‘what are you, scared’, you can see the way his eye flashes. Crimson red, just for a breath, like a ruby gem that turned just so and caught the glint of the light—and then he’s up, pulling off the coat that he wears in that infuriatingly chuunibyou manner over his shoulders. 

“If you want to memorize the taste of concrete so badly, who am I to deny you? I am nothing but a good host,” he muses. 

“You think you’re so funny.” You roll your eyes at him, but when he clicks his tongue and stalks off to the nearest training room (read: one of the many rooms around his godforsaken maze of a mansion that is empty enough for Sylus to treat it as expendable), you follow behind him.

Electricity burns up and down your spine, like a volt snapping along the livewire of your back. 

Maybe you do have some energy you need to work out.

==

Again, the thing about Sylus is that he is… a small bit cocky. 

Depending on one’s perspective, he could also be seen as extremely cocky. He carries himself with the confidence of a man who has a well-decorated CV that precedes him. Just the name alone is enough to make people in the street scatter into the alleyways, choosing to avoid whatever hailstorm chases his ankles.

It’s not difficult to see why. With an Evol like that, Sylus is practically set up for greatness. 

It does, however, also mean that he underestimates you. 

“No Evol, or this wouldn’t even be a fight,” he says idly, reaching for a roll of hand wrap  he had squirreled away somewhere. He binds his fists quickly, the movements swift and practiced. The cloth circles his wrist, around his knuckles and palms, through his fingers—he pulls it taut, gaze focused as he tightens it around his wrist again. 

Must be a pain to have such big hands, you think, reaching for the other roll of hand wrap in the little cubby behind a light switch. The same roll of hand wrap would make it around your palm at least three or four more times than his. 

A wrapped wrist catches yours before you can unravel the roll. “Ah ah,” he murmurs, giving you a considering look. “Did I say you could touch that?”

You give him a blank stare. Sometimes, Sylus can be really irritating. 

“I’ll split my knuckles apart on your face if I have to,” you say indifferently, letting go of the roll of hand tape. 

“I didn’t say you had to ruin your pretty hands,” Sylus retorts immediately. He flips your hand around, palm face up as he grabs the roll of hand tape with his other hand and sets it in the centre of your palm. “Your manners?”

You scoff. “Please,” you say with as much disdain you can inject into your voice, “and thank you.”

Sylus lets go, a smile pulling at his lips. He may think he has an excellent poker face, but he wears satisfaction like a second skin. It sinks into his face, lighting up his eyes and lips, and you think you can see it scrawled all over his neck, shoulders and chest. 

You make quick work of the hand wraps. You bind your wrists and knuckles tight enough to give you that much needed support—your dainty wrists, as Sylus would say with a grin, as if it’s your fault your wrists aren’t as thick as a coke can like Sylus’ are—and you use up the remainder of the wrap around your wrist for extra security. 

It moves quickly after that. You rotate your wrists, testing the give of the wrap. Flexing your wrists gives you the same reaction—sturdy, firm wrists with well-padded knuckles that won’t burst apart upon first contact with the sharp lines of a face eyeing you from across the room. 

When you look up, Sylus’ gaze is still on you. He doesn’t even bother pretending to avert his gaze. There’s something in his gaze as he stares at you, as if he’s doing nothing more than looking at a possession. 

Yeah, you really want to punch that look off his face. And if he splits his lip, you think it might even be an improvement to his face. 

Upon meeting your gaze, he rolls his shoulders and brings his fists up. His stance is loose and he rocks back and forth, shifting his weight from one leg to the other.

“Ladies first,” Sylus says, crooking his fingers at you. 

Sylus’ fighting style is always interesting to watch. There is a formality to his actions that have to be taught—the way he binds his wrists and knuckles is almost identical to the demonstration from the instructors who taught hand-to-hand combat when you were training to be a Hunter. His stance is almost an exact replica of the stance the instructors modeled for the class. 

And you’ve seen the way street rats fall into a brawl. You’ve seen the way they form a fist in the wrong way and how they mistakenly wrap their palms into mittens. They don’t even adopt a stance before they start swinging desperately at anything that moves, flinching at the nearest target. They throw their entire weight behind a punch and end up overbalancing, tipping into the arc of their fist. They stumble. They trip over their feet. Even the more experienced brawlers have a wilderness to their hits that one doesn’t get from formal training and sparring under supervision. 

But despite how formal his stance is, when he holds his fists up and makes a come hither motion, crooking two fingers at you, there is an air around him that students studying martial arts in a regulated environment would never have. 

There’s just something about Sylus that screams how he cut his teeth on other people. 

Or it might be how he’s the only one alive on this Earth that fights Wanderers with his fists. Even during Hunter training, even during the compulsory hand-to-hand combat lessons, the instructors never failed to impart to you the importance of using weapons where you can. Keep the Wanderers at a distance, however slight, if you can. Even if it’s nothing more than the range of a dagger, some distance is better than fighting so tightly up close that you can smell the stench of rot from them. 

Simply put, no one’s crazy enough to fight Wanderers with their bare hands. No one except Sylus, of course. 

“Don’t go easy on me,” you say briefly. Before he can respond, you dart forward to jab at his face. 

Your knuckles make painful contact with Sylus’ forearm. It sends a tremor through your hand—you almost want to accuse him of having undergone some kind of body modification because surely that is an exoskeleton, not bones that he somehow grew all by himself. 

There is a throbbing ache in your fingers, but the pain doesn’t faze you. You swing back into your old routine: jab, jab, upper cut, jab, left hook, jab—

The hits don’t always land. Sylus weaves through your swings with practised ease. It’s always either a defensive block or an evasion, the former more than the latter and you can hear him grunting from the force of your hits. A few blows even get him to let out a low gasp of air, and there are slivers of moments where he angles himself just right and you manage to peek through his arms to catch the slightly surprised look on his face. 

One upper cut gets close, your knuckles glancing off the side of his jaw because he didn’t manage to turn fast enough to avoid it. The hiss of air he sucks in is gratifying, a whistle through gritted teeth. What’s even better is how you take advantage of that situation to turn on your front foot, pivoting and slamming your shin into the side of his thigh. 

Sylus doesn’t curse out loud, but it’s a near thing. There’s another grunt, lower this time, accompanied by the sharp sound of another hiss of air as if he slammed his teeth together to stop the sounds escaping his mouth. 

His eye glows. Through the gap between his arms, his defensive guard he has up to block his face and chest, you see the way his eye pulses.

“No Evols,” you say breathlessly, your voice trembling from exertion as you back him into a corner. To be fair, when he’s not actively attacking you and sticking (rather infuriatingly) to a ‘defend-and-evade” maneuvre, the only direction he can go is backwards. So you back him up, further and further until he’s almost flush against the wall.

“I wasn’t going to use my Evol,” he pants. Exertion makes his voice low, his words interspaced by quick breaths. “Had your fun, kitten?”

You don’t deign that with a response. You swing a right upper cut and when he veers back to avoid it, you take full advantage of how he’s been slightly favoring his other side ever since you first slammed your shin into him. And if it ain’t broke, there’s no reason to fix it. 

So you swing again, leg bent as you drive it into his side. There’s a moment where you think your kick will land, but he catches your calf and kills your momentum with a twist of his body.

He looks at you, smug as all hell, and you turn your foot to brace it against his (again, infuriatingly) hard abdomen to use it as a platform. 

And he wouldn’t drop you, of course. Because he’s play fighting you, like a lioness does with her cubs—you can tell, because the scent of bloodlust radiating off him is next to none. It’s so faint you almost suspect this is nothing more than his base level of danger, a brutality that sits so at home in his bones that it follows him everywhere he goes. He isn’t fighting you, not really, for reasons you cannot fathom and you think you are better off not knowing, for the sake of your own sanity. 

With that knowledge in hand, you put your entire weight behind your foot and use it as a step, flying up towards his face. His arm is down, fingers wrapped around your calf. His guard isn’t up. Like this, he’s ripe for the taking.

There are a number of ways you could do this. Hands in his hair, ripping the strands out so viciously one would think you were trying to scalp him. Jamming your knee up into his face, breaking his pretty nose. Grabbing his head and forcing his face down to slam against your hipbone. Whatever you pick, you suspect it won’t end well for his face. 

For the briefest of moments, in the span of the flap of a hummingbird’s wings, you consider going easy.

And then you remember how he survived a gunshot point blank to the chest, how he insists on play fighting you even though you told him you could take him in a genuine fight, and you decide against it.

Stupid games will only win him stupid prizes, you think, as you sink your hands into his hair, fingers yanking so tightly around the strands that Sylus starts to wince, and you slam your knee into his face.

You can feel it. The crunch of cartilage under your knee, the way the muscle gives in and shifts, quite viscerally, to the side. The familiar feeling of a broken nose, the bridge shattered from the force of your hit—it’s been a while since you’ve put this much force behind your hits, and you’ve forgotten what’s a normal amount of force to use when friendly sparring with someone. 

Although, you’re not exactly friendly sparring with Sylus. 

To your surprise, however, even the sound of his nose breaking doesn’t mean Sylus lets go of your calf. He swears, voice hoarse from the blood spilling from his nose, but he doesn’t let go of you. 

“Fuck,” he groans, reaching up to prod at his face. “I haven’t had a broken nose in years.”

Quite right, considering he doesn’t let a living soul get within ten meters of him if they’re not you. “It’s an improvement,” you tell him candidly as you subtly try to wrench your leg out of his grasp. For someone who just had his nose broken, he’s surprisingly concerned with sliding his hand to your ankle, the pad of his thumb rubbing against the sharp jut of your bone. 

He tilts his head at you and gives you a droll look. As droll as one can look when fresh streams of crimson blood leak from his nose, two lines that trail down to his upper lip. His tongue darts out to skate across his skin, licking up the trail, and you can’t look away. 

You’re paralyzed, eyes drawn to the way he treats the wound so casually. You’re no stranger to a broken nose, and it hurts like a bitch. It’s a sharp pain that radiates all over your face for the first few minutes, until all you can feel is pain. Then it fades into a dull ache that still persistently lingers on your face and you end up looking like a fool while being in persistent, throbbing pain that doesn’t go away for days. 

“Let go of me,” you say, but your heart’s not really in it.

Sylus grins at you. The blood is slightly smudged, dripping down to his chin. It’s like someone took red paint and splashed it all over a white wall. The only blood you’ve ever seen strewn on his skin like this is other people’s blood and his own, from that first and only time you pointed a gun at a human. 

The first and only time you’ve shot a gun at a human. 

Point blank.

If you close your eyes, you think your breathing might fall into a specific breathing pattern. Caleb had told you about it once, when he came back from the Aerospace Academy and had just learnt how to fire a sniper rifle. Mandatory training, he had said, although he wouldn’t be the type of soldier to need to use it. No one carries a rifle in a fighter jet. 

Finger on the trigger, he had said. Breathe in, hold it, and breathe out. Slowly, so slowly that your heart almost tricks itself to think you’ve fallen asleep. And once your heart is steady, once your mind is clear, squeeze the trigger with the faintest of touches in between breaths. 

You didn’t have any of that when you shot Sylus, of course. That one was just right off the cuff. You don’t even know if you were thinking straight when you did it. As if you squeezed the trigger by accident, with a heart pounding like the paws of a rabbit hitting the ground as it escaped from a larger predator. 

This time, though, with Sylus looking at you, face bloodied and thumb still rubbing, distractingly, along your ankle, your foot pressed against the line of his abdomen—

You think your breathing is starting to slow. 

“You really do look good like this.” The words slip out before you can wrench them back where they came from. And then, as if realising how absurd that sounds, you add on, “aren’t you going to fix it?”

Sylus hums. His free hand comes up to wipe the blood dripping from his nose. It stains his thumb red, as red as his eyes, as red as the wine he tried to foist upon you before you somehow changed the topic to fighting and how you could take him in a fight. 

“If you think I look good like this, who am I to argue? Perhaps I’ll keep this look for a change.”

“... And strut around the N109 Zone with a broken nose?”

That makes him laugh. “Does it affect how menacing I look?”

His comment makes you relax, funnily enough. The tension in your body dissipates, and you put your fists down. The wild energy that made you challenge Sylus to a fight is gone, tamped down and tamed for the time being. 

As if noticing how you’ve relaxed, the hand on your leg finally leaves your ankle alone and slides up your calf. 

“It makes you look a little stupid,” you admit frankly. “The big bad crow of N109 will lose quite a bit of street cred if people see you walking around with a face like that.” All battered and bruised and bloody.

“Do you like it?”

There’s a knowing look in his gaze. It’s enough to make you huff, leaning forward to squeeze his cheeks together. His other hand darts up to catch your wrist before your fingers touch his cheek. 

“I’m not about to let you touch my face again,” he says mildly. “Who knows what you’ll do to it?”

“Fix it,” you retort, pretending like you didn’t intend to manhandle his face and cause him a second round of excruciating pain. “Clean up your broken nose.”

“Or what? You’ll break it again?”

He teases you like you’re a feral kitten in a cage and he’s sticking a finger in just to see what you’ll do with it. Like he’s not afraid to get mauled, or perhaps he thinks you’re so tiny that your claws won’t be able to do much damage to him. 

There’s an air about him that suggests he’s only allowing you to do these things because he finds them entertaining. That he allows you to mouth off at him, that he allows you to slam your knee into his face, that he allows you to break his nose. As if you didn’t do that all on your own. 

“Maybe.” You shrug callously. You’ve finally managed to free your leg from his grasp, and you somewhat stumble back into an upright position with both feet firmly on the ground. “I told you I could take you. If you insist on underestimating me, or playing nice with me, you’ll end up with a few more broken bones, I’d reckon.”

“Hm.” His gaze scans your face, then quickly drops to your knee, as if he’s fully appreciating the weapon that slammed into his face. “I’ll admit, I haven’t seen a move like that before. You took me by surprise.”

When he locks eyes with you again, his look is appraising. “I’m impressed. You do know how to fight.”

By now, the blood has trickled to a stop. The stains on his face are fresh, though, and you feel this urge to reach up and press your fingers over it, to properly rub it into his skin. 

The first indelible mark you’ve left on him. Even if he fixes his nose, even if he manages to make it look like your knee had not gone anywhere near his face to begin with, you’ll know. He’ll know. 

Almost as if you’ve branded him with a secret just the two of you carry. Red hot and burning, spilling down the curve of his his Cupid’s Bow like an overturned wine glass. 

“You went easy on me,” you say eventually, dragging your gaze away from his nose with much difficulty. “Clean yourself up. I mean it. I don’t want to hear news from the N109 Zone about the leader of Onychinus walking around with a broken nose. It’ll mean more paperwork for me when the higher ups demand an investigation into who, or what, could have left such a visible injury on you.” 

“I won’t go easy on you next time,” he murmurs, blinking slowly as he stares at you. Tendrils of energy sneak up his chest, red and black swirling around his neck and flaring up his face. For a moment, you lose sight of his facial features. It’s just a thick, surging ball of energy that crawls up his body like flames licking at cloth.

When it clears, his nose is back in place. His features are back to that unfairly symmetrical build, so classically handsome that you immediately want to draw your hand back to punch him again, just to mess it up a little. 

His hair is still a mess, though, from when you sunk your fingers into it. It’s nowhere near his usual coiffed look, or what some might call artfully tousled. He really just looks like someone had their fingers tangled in the strands and pulled hard enough to make it disheveled. 

And the blood is still on his face. Twin trails to his mouth, over his lips, and down his chin. It draws your eyes to his mouth, the shape of it, the half-moon lips and how the tip of his tongue runs along the seam. 

You think of his messy hair, and you think of his mouth. You think of your hands sinking into his hair for a different reason altogether, and his mouth pressed up against a drenched hole begging to be filled by something clever. Fingers or a tongue, it isn’t picky. 

Once you’re thinking about this, the arousal hits you like a trainwreck. Now you’re the overturned wine glass, arousal pooling in your gut and spilling into your veins so quickly you almost stumble. His low voice, the way he licked the blood off his upper lip, the caress of his thumb against your ankle, the insistent way he held your foot even as he stood there, blood all over his face—

You look down, almost instinctively, a knee-jerk reaction when arousal floods your system so potently it makes you dizzy, and what you see just makes the heat spike in your body. 

“What?” Sylus’ voice is lazy. When you briefly glance up, his gaze is knowing as he stares you down. He leans back enough to brace his upper back against the wall behind him, and his knees shift imperceptibly wider. You wouldn’t have noticed the shift in his stance if you weren’t looking.

But you were. You were staring, 

So when Sylus speaks in that tone that barely hides a smile, you know he knows. 

“See something you like?” 

Your mouth is dry. Again, with those spread thighs. Just enough space to fit you, if you bothered to go between them. More than enough space if you decided to go on your knees. 

“I was the one who won that fight,” you point out. If your voice is a little hoarse, Sylus is magnanimous enough not to call attention to it.

He hums, seemingly deep in thought. “And so you did,” he says, brows raised in feigned surprise. “Would you like a reward?”

Something inside you throbs. It’s a hunger that sparks and spirals until it’s a flame eating through your veins. You shift your weight from one foot to another, unconsciously fidgeting on the spot. 

“I would,” you say eventually, tilting your head to the door. “Should we unwrap our hands first, or…?”

The grin Sylus gives you is filthy. “I won’t need my hands for what I’m about to do,” he says in a silky voice, and jerks his head at the wall. “Get up against the wall, sweetie. You won’t need your hands either.”

If you almost stumble in your haste to get your back pressed up against the wall, Sylus is again generous enough to not mention it.

==

© rrrrinmaru 2024 | no unauthorised publication or reproduction allowed

a/n:

reader: i could take you

sylus: in a fight?

reader: :)

[420b1a2eit]

Ryujin's Review

Ryujin x BBC(3)

1598 words

tags: foursome, BBC, rough sex, double penetration, spitroast, etc.

Ryujin stretched out on the plush king-sized bed in her Los Angeles hotel room, excitement bubbling through her veins. She'd taken Yuna's advice and eagerly made three bookings on a certain app. Dredd, Louie, and Isiah—all with impressive reputations and even more impressive endowments.

She stared at herself in the mirror, admiring her toned physique. Her brown hair cascaded over her shoulders, framing a face that radiated confidence and anticipation. Her tight abs and thick thighs were testament to her dedication to calisthenics and martial arts. She'd dressed to impress in black lace lingerie, the delicate fabric hugging her curves, leaving little to the imagination.

The knock on the door jolted her from her reverie. She opened it to find the three men standing there, each exuding an aura of raw masculinity. Dredd, the tallest, had a dark, commanding presence with his chiseled jaw and intense eyes. Louie, with his playful grin and muscular build, exuded a sense of wild energy. Isiah, the quietest, had an air of quiet dominance, his broad shoulders and ripped abs hinting at untamed strength.

Without a word, they stepped inside, and the atmosphere crackled with anticipation. Dredd was the first to act, his large hand wrapping around Ryujin's wrist, pulling her close. He kissed her roughly, his tongue invading her mouth, while Louie and Isiah watched, their eyes dark with lust.

Ryujin moaned into Dredd's mouth, feeling her arousal spike. Louie moved behind her, his hands sliding over her hips, squeezing her ass through the thin fabric. "You ready for us, baby?" he whispered in her ear, his breath hot against her skin.

"Fuck yes," she gasped, her voice trembling with excitement.

Dredd's hand moved to her throat, squeezing lightly as he guided her to the bed. He pushed her down, and Ryujin landed on her back, her legs spread invitingly. Louie and Isiah were quick to undress, their massive cocks springing free, hard and ready.

Isiah stepped forward, his cock inches from Ryujin's face. "Open wide, slut," he commanded, his voice low and authoritative. She obeyed eagerly, her mouth stretching to accommodate his girth. He thrust deep, hitting the back of her throat, making her gag and drool.

Dredd knelt between her legs, tearing away her panties and exposing her wet pussy. "Such a tight little cunt," he growled, his fingers sliding inside her, spreading her open. Louie joined in, spanking her ass hard, making her yelp around Isiah's cock.

"Take it all, bitch," Isiah snarled, his thrusts becoming more forceful. Ryujin's eyes watered, but she loved every second, her body on fire with desire.

Dredd replaced his fingers with his cock, pushing into her tight, wet heat. Ryujin screamed around Isiah's cock, the sheer size of Dredd stretching her to the limit. Louie moved to her side, grabbing her hair and yanking it back, his hand slapping her face lightly.

"Look at you, such a perfect little whore," Louie taunted, his voice dripping with lust. "You love being used, don't you?"

Ryujin nodded as best she could, her body shaking with pleasure. "Yes, I love it," she gasped when Isiah pulled out momentarily, giving her a breath before shoving back in.

The room filled with the sounds of their rough, primal fucking. Dredd pounded into her relentlessly, his balls slapping against her ass, while Isiah fucked her mouth with brutal intensity. Louie alternated between spanking her and whispering filthy words in her ear, his own cock rock-hard and leaking pre-cum.

"Such a good slut, taking all of us so well," Dredd praised, his voice gruff. He increased his pace, driving into her harder, each thrust hitting her G-spot, sending waves of ecstasy through her body.

Isiah's grip tightened in her hair, and he came with a roar, his cum flooding her mouth, forcing her to swallow. He pulled out, leaving her gasping and drooling, her lips swollen and red.

Louie took his place, pushing his cock into her mouth without hesitation. "Suck it, bitch," he ordered, his tone leaving no room for disobedience. Ryujin complied, her tongue swirling around his shaft, sucking eagerly.

Dredd's thrusts grew erratic, and he soon followed, filling her pussy with his hot seed. He pulled out, his cum dripping from her swollen lips.

"Fuck, that was amazing," he panted, collapsing beside her. Isiah and Louie soon joined, their bodies spent but their eyes still filled with desire.

Ryujin lay between them, her body aching in the best possible way. She had never felt more alive, more desired, more utterly used and satisfied.

"Ready for round two?" she asked, her voice hoarse but eager. The men exchanged grins, their cocks already twitching back to life.

"Oh, we're just getting started," Louie promised, his hand sliding down to tease her still-sensitive clit. "This night is far from over, slut."

Ryujin's heart raced as Louie's fingers expertly teased her clit, sending jolts of pleasure through her already sensitized body. The men shifted around her, their predatory gazes never leaving her flushed and eager face.

Isiah, recovered from his initial release, was the first to move. He spread Ryujin's legs wider, positioning himself between her thighs once again. His cock, still slick from her mouth, lined up with her entrance. "Ready for more?" he asked, a wicked gleam in his eye.

"Yes, fuck me," Ryujin moaned, her hips bucking up to meet him. Isiah thrust into her with a powerful stroke, filling her completely. She cried out, the sensation of being stretched anew overwhelming her senses.

Dredd moved behind her, lifting her upper body slightly to position her on her hands and knees. He ran his hands down her back, gripping her hips as he aligned his cock with her tight, puckered hole. "I'm going to take this sweet ass, slut," he growled, the tip of his cock pressing against her.

Ryujin's breath hitched, a mix of pain and pleasure shooting through her as Dredd slowly pushed inside. She clenched around him, the fullness intense but exhilarating. "Oh fuck, yes," she gasped, her body trembling with anticipation.

Louie, not to be left out, moved to the side, his cock brushing against her lips. "Open up, bitch," he commanded, his tone rough and commanding. Ryujin obediently parted her lips, taking him into her mouth, the taste of his pre-cum mixing with the remnants of Isiah's release.

The three men established a rhythm, their bodies moving in perfect synchronization. Isiah pounded into her pussy, his thrusts hard and deep, while Dredd claimed her ass with relentless force. Louie's cock filled her mouth, the sound of her sucking and gagging adding to the symphony of their rough, primal fucking.

"You're such a good little whore," Louie praised, his hand tangled in her hair, guiding her head up and down his shaft. "Taking all three of us like a pro."

Ryujin's muffled moans were the only response she could manage, her body quaking with pleasure. The combined sensation of being filled so completely, of being used so thoroughly, was pushing her to the edge.

Dredd's hand snaked around to her front, his fingers finding her clit. He rubbed it in tight, rough circles, driving her wild. "Cum for us, slut," he growled, his voice low and demanding.

The command sent her over the brink. Ryujin's body convulsed, her orgasm ripping through her with an intensity that left her gasping and crying out. Her walls clenched around Isiah, milking his cock, driving him closer to his own release.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum," Isiah groaned, his pace becoming erratic. He buried himself deep inside her, his hot seed spilling into her, adding to the mix of fluids already dripping from her.

Louie followed suit, pulling out of her mouth to stroke himself to completion. He aimed his cock at her face, thick ropes of cum splattering across her cheeks, her lips, marking her as theirs.

Dredd was the last, his thrusts growing wild and desperate. He gripped her hips tightly, his own release crashing through him as he filled her ass with his cum. The sensation sent another wave of pleasure through Ryujin, her body quivering in the aftermath of their brutal, satisfying encounter.

The room was filled with the heavy sound of their breathing, the air thick with the scent of sex. Ryujin collapsed onto the bed, her body spent but utterly sated. The men lay beside her, their hands lazily caressing her skin, their eyes filled with a mixture of lust and satisfaction.

"You were incredible," Isiah murmured, his fingers tracing patterns on her thigh. "A perfect little slut."

Ryujin smiled, her body still humming with the remnants of their shared pleasure. "I'm just getting started," she replied, her voice a sultry promise of more to come.

Dredd chuckled, his hand squeezing her ass possessively. "Good, because we've got all night."

The night stretched on, filled with the sounds of their passionate, unrestrained fucking. Ryujin reveled in every moment, each touch, each thrust, each filthy word a testament to her insatiable desire. The men took her again and again, their stamina seemingly endless, their need as voracious as hers.

By the time dawn began to break, casting a soft glow through the hotel room, Ryujin lay exhausted but blissfully satisfied. She'd been used, filled, and pleasured in ways she'd only fantasized about. The memory of this night would stay with her forever, a reminder of the raw, uninhibited passion that had consumed them all.

As she drifted off to sleep, nestled between the warm, strong bodies of her lovers, she couldn't help but smile. Yuna had been right—the app was worth every single star.

[johnbrand]

Profile Picture

Anthony had been avoiding it for over a week and now the social media manager was getting antsy. All the new frat members were supposed to submit a picture to be introduced in profiles online. It made sense, but Anthony just did not have any good pictures of himself. Typically, people sent in their senior pictures, but Anthony had not had any taken. The last decent portrait he owned was from junior year when he had had braces.

“UGH!” Anthony sighed loudly, exasperated as he locked himself into a bathroom. Worst part of it all was that he could not escape the issue because he LIVED with these people. He had run into three of the other frat boys on the way here, one of whom insisted on shaking hands as he flew by. Typically, Anthony was short enough to literally hide; people would just overlook him so that he could scurry away unnoticed. But now he was trapped, making a deal out of something that probably should not have been in the first place. 

“If only I had been narcissistic enough to have taken a selfie once in my life,” Anthony groaned.

Suddenly, his phone lit up with a new notification. A text from a contact named “Michael.”

“Hey dude, it was great to meet you,” it read. Anthony wondered how the blond jock he had just met in the hallway already had his number. Let alone, why. Most people seemed to be put off by his personality, especially the hot, muscular ones. Anthony’s height was also a deterrent, as was his weight. Well actually, just about anything else one could think of. 

“How did you get my number?” Anthony adjusted his glasses almost subconsciously.

“Got it last night from you at the party,” came the reply. “Must’ve knocked you out pretty hard if you don’t remember.”

For a moment Anthony was not sure what Michael meant. He had only rushed this frat for the bullet point on his resume; he would have never gone to a college party. Or at least Anthony could not imagine having gone to one.

“Don’t you remember? That chick Nicole was all over you. I couldn’t help but get jealous.” Michael sent a laughing emoji before continuing. “She’s always been into the tall, ‘All-American’ kinda man.”

Anthony laughed as he checked himself out in the mirror. He did fit that bill pretty well. His body was practically built by the Midwest; corn-fed and stacked with beef. Anthony worked out all the time to maintain his thick-yet-polished frame. And at 6’3, all the muscle made Anthony appear even larger. He was almost always staring down at others, but that was just natural for men his size. 

“Yeah she was pretty crazy,” Anthony awkwardly replied. He had told her countless times that he simply did not swing that way. “I’m just glad someone else noticed. She had no chill, man.”

“She’s got a real hankering for the blond-hair, blue-eyes combo. It’s like something that really sets her off. You might get yourself a stalker if you’re not careful.”

Anthony’s smile broadened. Had Nicole really been that easy to read? Yeah, his sparkling sapphire eyes and luscious golden locks were usually enthralling, that was why he never covered them up. But that girl had really been on to him last night–more than Anthony was used to from others. “I could probably handle a girl like her.”

“I know. I’m just teasing,” Michael replied quickly. “I know you like when a girl is crazy for you anyway, all that attention goes right to the big boy downstairs.”

That text confused Anthony at first, but after a quick squeeze to his thickening python, he felt himself agreeing.

“What can I say,” Anthony smirked, continuing to paw himself. “I like to have a good girl who understands her place.

“Now stop fagging out on yourself in the mirror and get out here!" Michael responded. "This new pool is sick, and all the sorority chicks are here in their skimpiest bikinis.”

That final line made Anthony’s juicy dick spurt a bit into his tight, American-flag print swim shorts. Cockily, he posed in front of the mirror and took a picture of his studly body. Anthony then sent it to Michael before hurriedly exiting the bathroom. By the time Michael had forwarded the image onto the social media manager, Anthony had already acclimated into the pool, a swarm of hungry girls eagerly surrounding him.