#shes like crotch height

[evillillad]

im normal im normal im normal

[uniquevocashark]

silly little wip to illustrate the size difference between my oc and alcina <3

[hanasnx]

x gon' give it to ya.

MINORS DNI 18+ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ NOTES: @fuckmyskywalker introduced me to the concept of talking to a pussy i think via an anakin smut post and it changed my life so i'd like to dedicate credit to the idea. WARNINGS: fem reader | sex in the suit | deadpool calls himself daddy ironically and talks to your pussy.

A deep groan reverberates from low in DEADPOOL's throat. "Baby, I can't believe how good you look right now, seriously never looked better." he praises, commending the space between your legs as she's stuffed full of every inch of his dick. Another inexplicable thing about his mutation—he grew.

"'Talking to my pussy again, Wade?" you scoff, amused and breathless as you rock back on him, tossing a glance at him over your shoulder. Your spine is in a deep arch over the bed, and the nine inch heels you're wearing are the only reason you're able to compete with his height bent over like this.

"She needs to know what a good job she's doing otherwise she'll get discouraged. Poor thing needs a lot of love." he refutes your judgement, however playful, lovingly stroking the flesh of your ass with his glove. "Give us some privacy, please. Jesus." he tsks, shaking his head at you while you bury your face in the mattress. If his dick wasn't yanking your brains out along with it, you might have more to say. He turns his attention back where your bodies conjoin. "Thank God I put zipper on this thing. Who knew a onesie would be such a hassle to take a piss in?" The sounds of the room are filled with him running his mouth and your cunt's wet responses when he pulls out and shoves back in. "Now look at us." A particularly moistured sound squirts out, and he laughs knowingly, like your hole's said something entertaining at a tea party. "Zipper makes it too easy, you know? We've gotta stop meeting like this, maybe next time we can just sit and talk—"

"Wade!" you giggle, banging your fist onto the mattress. "Just fuck me, already!"

"Don't worry about her, she's just jealous." he tells your cunt, "You and I have something special, don't we? 'Specially when Daddypool says to christen the suit." A wave of wetness wells up from his comment, and he gasps in pleasant surprise. "Oh, you like that, you dirty thing. Next time I crotch-shot a bad guy he'll smell you all over, is that what you want, you freak? C'mere, I'll give you something real to leak about." Big rough hands grip on your hips, slamming into you so hard your ass ripples from the effect, and your happy pussy gargles around the dick it chokes on.

[feeder86]

Guy and a Gain

“Sure, she’s cute. But she can’t give a decent blow job to save her life,” Guy shrugged, checking out the girls on the dancefloor with his football buddy, Rich. 

“You’ve slept with her already?” Rich asked, always impressed by Guy’s prowess. 

“Of course I have. Look at her. She’s the prettiest girl in here by far,” he nodded down at her. “But she has no instincts when it comes to giving head. She’s been my biggest disappointment since I arrived on campus.”

“I’m sure she could learn,” Rich shrugged, still taken with the girl. He was tall and broad and enough of a catch for her. However, he didn’t have the natural good looks, strapping build and height that made it so effortless for Guy to pick up whoever he wanted on a night out.

“If you want her, go buy her a drink,” Guy shrugged. “But I’m telling you, you’ll be disappointed. If it’s a decent blow job you’re after tonight, you can’t go wrong with a fat girl. They’re always out to please. Gay guys too - awesome at taking a dick in their mouth.”

“Dude!” Rich shot back, taking a step back in horror. “You’re telling me you’re gay?”

Guy laughed, rolled his eyes and shook his head. He strapped his big arm over Rich’s shoulders and pulled him back in. “Don’t be that guy,” he stated warningly. “Not if you and I are going to be friends. It’s not the nineties. You hear what I’m saying?” he asked, turning his head to Rich. There was no denying which of them would win in a fight, so he wasn’t about to take some outdated homophobic shit just because the idiot came from some backwards ghost town in the midwest. “I love sex. And I stick my dick wherever it feels good. That’s just the kind of man I am.”

Rich seemed to get that he’d been out of line and he nodded respectfully. All the boys on the football team looked up to Guy, not just for his sporting capability and strength, but because he genuinely didn’t seem to give a crap about what others thought about him. He was smart and sharp; perfectly suited to the business degree he was studying. “So who’s given you the best time since we started college?” he asked.

“You’d be surprised,” Guy chuckled. “I have this skinny little geek in the room next to mine. You could tell he was a total virgin until I came along, but… fuck me! The boy is a natural when it comes to sucking. And so convenient, right next door. I don’t even have to knock.”

Rich nodded; his world view was a little less narrow than it had been a few minutes ago and he now seemed genuinely interested in his team mate’s extensive experiences in the bedroom. They chatted a bit more, until Guy saw the girl he wanted that night. Short, round and eyeing him like crazy. He’d give her a night she’d never forget!

“She was a bit of a noisy one last night,” Mikey grumbled, sliding into the kitchen area the next morning.

Guy laughed and tore a large bite out of his toast with his teeth. “Sorry, buddy,” he laughed. “I forgot you nerds all go to bed at 9am.”

Mikey rolled his eyes and poured himself some cereal. It was rare that they ever got the kitchen space to themselves like this, but Guy was always up for his gym session, no matter what time he went to bed. He sat there, hunched at the breakfast bar, his damp clothes sticking to his enormously muscular body. Even unshowered and stinking of sweat like this, he knew he could still get his favorite neighbor, Mikey, to go down on him in a microsecond.

“I noticed you brought home another fat girl,” Mikey commented next, grabbing the last of his own fresh milk that Guy had left him, after downing most of it post-workout. “You’re making quite a habit of this.”

Guy rose to his feet and laughed, dropping his plate in the sink for Mikey to clean up after him and grabbing the boy by his hips from behind. “Spying on me, huh?” he whispered teasingly. The boy was at least half a foot shorter than him, melting the moment he was touched. “Jealous, perhaps?”

Mikey moaned as he felt Guy’s lustful hands slide into his crotch to check how hard he was. “I just thought…” he mumbled, “some people find it odd when athletes like you date the fat girls.”

“Because I really give a shit about what people think, don’t I?” Guy chuckled back, peeling back Mikey’s shorts so that his tight glutes were exposed. “I could fuck your skinny little ass later if you think it might balance things out a bit?” he teased. He strolled off to the refrigerator, leaving Mikey to cover himself back up before anyone else came in, perusing the shelf of food Mikey had bought for himself yesterday and seeing if there was anything he wanted to help himself to. “Just because you eat like a little sparrow...,” he sighed, seeing the boring items within and taking a large pot of yoghurt to eat in his bedroom, “... it doesn’t mean that everyone else has to.”

Later that evening, Guy lay back on Mikey’s bed, his head swirling from the intensity of the orgasm after shooting down his geeky neighbor’s throat. He’d never admit to his face how good Mikey was at this, but of the scores of people he had slept with since coming to college, Mikey was the only one he’d made a habit of going back to.

“How was that?” the keen boy asked; his eyes watering from having taken Guy so far down his throat.

“Average,” Guy lied, wishing the nerd would be quiet a few moments longer and allow him this period of pure bliss.

“Not like the fat girls you bring home with you then?” Mikey asked.

Guy opened his eyes and sighed, sitting up. “Are you still going on about that?” he grumbled, pulling his underwear back up his muscular legs and raising his butt to get them all the way up.

“I kinda wanted to ask you something?” Mikey tried next, in an oddly serious tone.

Again, Guy sighed impatiently. “What is it?”

“These fat girls you go after… do you ever get horny thinking about them… y’know… getting even fatter?”

Guy raised an eyebrow. What sort of an odd question was that? He shrugged his shoulders, deciding not to commit to an answer and see where the hell Mikey was going with this. “Why do you ask?”

Mikey seemed emboldened by Guy’s response, getting up from his kneeling position on the floor and sitting on the chair by his desk. “It’s just… sort of a fantasy of mine,” he explained.

“Me fucking fat chicks?” Guy asked sceptically? He realised he knew so little about what genuinely got Mike going.

“No. Not that,” he replied, shaking his head. “There’s just something so kinky and submissive about getting fat for someone; becoming soft and out of shape.”

Guy looked across, even more puzzled, despite doing his best to hide it. “You eat less food than anyone else I know,” he shot back. “You won’t be getting fat anytime soon!”

Mikey nodded, as if Guy had hit the nail right on the head. “Exactly!” he smiled. “Imagine if someone pushed me to get fat for them! If some dominant guy made me eat all the things that forced my body to grow and grow for his own pleasure. How fucking sexy would that be?”

Nodding, Guy considered the idea. “You’re definitely submissive enough,” he agreed, standing and pulling up his sweat shorts. 

“You’re not going to tell anyone I told you that, are you?” Mikey asked, suddenly panicked.

“Who the fuck do you think would be interested?” Guy laughed. “People are allowed to have kinks, y’know? You need to lighten up a little!”

Mikey nodded back in agreement. Neither of them socialised within the same circles anyway. Guy was nothing if not liberal when it came to all things to do with sex. It was water off a duck’s back.

Mikey didn’t mention the subject the next time Guy went over for his servicing, despite being surprisingly chatty about his day afterwards. Guy listened out of a vague politeness as he stretched out on Mikey’s comfortable bed and watched the TV screen in the background. He could relax around Mikey. The guy didn’t take any of this too seriously and never got clingy or sentimental. Sex was sex.

In fact, it was only as Guy spotted Mikey in the corner at a frat house party, that he realised he had never actually seen Mikey outside of the dorms until then. Their lives were so disconnected, with the exception of the thin wall that separated their dorm rooms. He waved politely, following the other athletes through to the kitchen, where the usual fun and drinking games took place.

Later that evening, with a circle of women swarming around him, Guy looked over to see a boy looking in Mikey’s direction. Tall, slim and not unattractive, he gave Guy the distinct impression that he was interested in the nerdy boy. “Does anyone know who that one is?” Guy asked the girls.

“That’s just Aiden,” one replied. “He’s got a crush on that guy over there,” she pointed at Mikey. “They're on the same course together or something.”

Aiden? That name rang a bell. Guy was sure he’d heard that name mentioned by Mikey a few times in the past. It surprised him how little he had actually considered Mikey’s life outside of their casual fucking. Of course Mikey was going to pique someone else’s interest at some point. Guy wasn’t the type to get into a relationship, but perhaps Mikey would be. Then what would happen? No more awesome blow jobs for a start. Normal people weren’t good at sharing.

“Hey, Mikey!” Guy suddenly shouted from across the room, catching sight of Aiden moving in, as if to make his move. “Come grab a drink with me.”

Mikey smiled and diligently headed over. There, Guy wrapped a big arm over his slim shoulders and slipped a shot into his hand. Guy himself didn’t drink, never needing alcohol to make him fun at a party and refusing to fuck his training up with toxins that could impact his progress. There he stood, guarding the boy from any who may try to come near. Ten minutes was all they stayed after that, walking back to the dorms so that Aiden couldn’t sneak his way towards Mikey when Guy wasn’t looking.

“Are you coming in?” Guy asked, opening the door to his own bedroom and inviting Mikey inside. 

“I’m honoured!” Mikey joked, having never been invited into Guy’s room before. He stepped over the threshold, into the dungeon of mess, sweat and sex.

The idea of Aiden had plagued Guy’s mind, suddenly making him realise just how much he had taken Mikey, and his awesome sucking skills, for granted. A gesture was required; a way to show the boy that his pleasure was important too. Guy stood in the middle of the room, planting his feet solidly and pulled the geek into him; kissing him passionately in an almost romantic manner. “Did you like that?” he grinned afterwards, knowing how well he could seduce when he wanted to. He pulled off his shirt and went in again, this time guiding Mikey’s hands to explore his muscular chest. He needed Mikey to know what an absolutely perfect specimen he was if the boy was going to be asked out by Aiden soon; let him see what he would be missing out on if he got into a relationship. “Let’s take off your clothes,” Guy whispered next, undressing Mikey himself until his pants and underwear fell around his feet and he stood there naked, erect and longing for him.

Mikey seemed to appreciate how different this all was. Guy was the first to admit that he never really put the effort in when it came to his sessions with the boy next door. Then, when Guy started sliding his large hand up and down Mikey’s hardness, the skinny boy moaned like he could climax at any time.

Guy had no intention of losing his fuck buddy. For the last hour, he’d been plotting how best to handle the situation, settling upon something he decided he could give Mikey better than anyone else. He threw open his closet door where a mirror rested on the other side, now reflecting Mikey perfectly back at himself.

“Who’s that skinny little shit in the mirror?” Guy teased him, looking like a monster of pure muscle stood behind him.

In the mirror, Mikey watched Guy’s hand slowly sliding up and down his hardness; his lust filled eyes half closed and his jaw slack.

“I want you to do something for me,” Guy whispered next. “I want you to drink my protein shakes,” he nodded backwards to the little minibar that also served as a bedside table for him. “Five hundred and eighty calories each,”

Mikey turned and looked up at him, as if the reflected version was merely a mirage. “You want me to drink all your shakes?” he asked, as if worried he had misunderstood.

“Yeah, I do…” Guy nodded down at him. “Every last drop.”

Guy could feel Mikey almost quivering with arousal. He bent down to his little fridge and popped the lid on one of his shakes.

“You know what these will do to you, right?” Guy grinned. “These aren’t made for skinny little dweebs like you. Boys who drink these and don’t exercise… they start to…” he whispered, keeping Mikey hanging on his every word. “...They start to get a little fat!””

Mikey nodded with absolute submission; his hands twitching to take the bottle from Guy’s large hand.

“Say goodbye to the skinny boy,” Guy laughed, nodding at the reflection once more, before twisting the mirror slightly so that the angle changed. Then he sat himself against the headboard of his bed. He spread his legs, pulling Mikey to sit into his crotch with his back resting against his strapping chest. Cleverly, Mikey could still see everything in the mirror as Guy’s hand rose up his neck, tipping his head back so that it rested on his muscular shoulder. Then those strong fingers pressed into Mikey’s cheeks, opening the jaws and turning Mikey’s mouth into the perfect pouring hole for the shake.

The mixture was cold. Guy took his time, adding a little at a time, as if making Mikey work for it. He theatrically rubbed the boy’s throat, like he was encouraging a good swallow; then went straight back to work on that aching erection. Once one bottle was down, Guy could reach with his giant arm span down into his minibar for the next, without even having to move Mikey. Then, down went another, and another.

“Can you see what’s happening?” Guy whispered, rubbing a hand over Mikey’s bloating stomach.

“It looks so big!” Mikey moaned back, with Guy having to pull his hand away from the boy’s erection once again in order to stop him climaxing.

“This is what you’re going to grow for me,” Guy demanded. “Every day, everything you eat… all for me.”

Mikey moaned so loudly now, it felt almost cruel to deny him his orgasm any longer. “Yes!” he nodded emphatically. “I swear. I absolutely swear!”

Guy only needed to touch him for a few seconds and the eruption that followed was more explosive than any he had ever seen a guy make. He looked at the splatter above the headboard behind them and chuckled. It was almost as high as he could get it himself. This was certainly a strange kink that Mikey had, but Guy felt that he had made his point well. No one was going to indulge this geek in his fantasies about weight gain; at least, not like Guy could. So why would Mikey need to look for connections anywhere else?

A few days later, Guy did a double take as he looked on Mikey's shelf in the refrigerator for food he could steal after his workout. Gone were the boring, sensible ingredients, replaced with high carb options, sugars and high fat dairy. Guy almost thought he was just confused, until he checked out the cupboard that Mikey kept for himself as well, finding a similar story. He frowned in confusion, wondering whether people had reorganised the kitchen space, until the encounter with Mikey nights before came back to him. Was the boy actually going to have a go at gaining a few pounds? How cute was that? But would this mean that Guy would have to buy more of his own food whilst Mikey was going through this little phase of his? 

The normally fresh and clean smell of Mikey’s room was tainted by spices and the sweaty, grease stained food containers that piled up on the boy’s desk. Mikey himself looked bloated and sluggish, his stomach stretched so much that he was obviously in some discomfort. Guy looked down at him, trying to hold back a laugh. “Someone’s been enjoying himself!” he teased.

Mikey nodded. “If I’d have known you wanted to stop by tonight, I’d have saved the pizza so you could watch me eat it all for you.”

Guy wondered what on Earth Mikey expected him to get out of watching him eat a pizza. Was it supposed to be kinky? Like the protein shakes? Perhaps it was part of the submission aspect. All the same, it sounded more than a little dull. But this was Mikey’s kink and Guy was hardly about to shame him about it. On the contrary, how exciting that the otherwise vanilla boy was actually doing something that he genuinely found thrilling. “We’ll have a little fat belly on you in no time!” he smirked, reaching down to pat the clearly overstuffed stomach.

Like a flip switching in Mikey’s mind, the boy instantly became more aroused. Guy took notice, rubbing the stomach more and more, until Mikey finally fished out Guy’s boner and set his magic mouth to work.

“Have you seen Mikey recently?” asked Hannah, a former conquest of Guy's and the girl who lived across the hallway. “He’s seriously packed on the Freshman Fifteen.”

“You probably just saw him after he’d had a meal,” Guy replied knowingly. “He tends to eat a lot in one go. He gets bloated.”

Hannah shook her head, not accepting the excuse in the slightest. “This was first thing in the morning. He has actual love handles!” she stated emphatically.

Now it was Guy’s turn to shake his head. He’d only been in to play with Mikey a few days before the Spring Break and he hadn’t noticed any sign of love handles before then.

Hannah laughed. “Seriously!” she chuckled. “I’m not making this up.”

Guy marched down the corridor and knocked on Mikey’s door, making Hannah laugh as she stayed in the kitchen. “Wakey, wakey!” he called out, knowing that the boy was rarely up at this time on a Saturday. In the short space of time that it took a groggy Mikey to get out of bed, the door clicked unlocked and in Guy went, closing the door behind him. The dark, hunched form of Guy’s drowsy neighbor slipped straight back into bed. Instead, Guy strolled over to the window and threw them open dramatically. “Time to get up!” he teased. 

As light flooded the room, Guy could see the mess of wrappers and containers that was testament to how much Mikey had been overfeeding himself since he arrived back on Wendesday night. He laughed to himself, picking up some of the mess and putting it on the boy’s desk. Then, knowing that it would frustrate Mikey, he reached for the duvet and yanked it away with full force, uncovering the entirely naked boy lying on his front underneath.

Guy’s eyes flew to the little rounded pads of flesh on Mikey’s side, the skin starting to crease and mark the area more clearly: love handles, without a shadow of a doubt. “Ho, ho!” he blasted in amusement. “Look at you!” he marvelled, reaching his big hand down onto his neighbor’s glute and finding it was squishy and significantly bouncier, with clearly added mass to it. “Someone is actually getting chubby!” he teased, absolutely astonished with the difference. That skinny little ass was gone, replaced with something much more meaty and even a little feminine.

Despite his tiredness, Mikey wrigged with arousal at the touch as Guy began playing with the softness that even spread down into his thighs. He rolled over; his erection already sizable as he tried to open his eyes and look towards Guy, even with the harsh light coming in through the window behind him.

What was happening to Mikey’s chest? Guy inspected further. The nipples seemed softer and the blubbery build up in the boy’s love handles was further spread across his stomach, deepening his belly button. “Stand up,” Guy demanded. “I want to look at you properly.”

Mikey did as he was told, Guy placed his hands on the boy’s shoulders, guiding him over to the mirror, so that he could see all angles at once.

“Fuck!” Guy laughed, seeing what a transformation had been silently happening behind his back. He felt proud. The biggest complaint people had about Mikey, here in the dorms, was that he was a fairly dull and boring person. Well, look at him now! This was hardly boring. The kinky little fucker was actually doing something none of them would ever have the guts to do. “I’m pleased,” Guy told him honestly, looking at his face in the reflection. “How does it feel for you?”

At this Mikey’s hands began exploring himself, grabbing at the fat and jiggling where he could with the tips of his fingers. “Amazing!” he whispered back, bursting with arousal.

“Well then…” Guy smiled, placing his hand back on Mikey’s chubby glute: his favorite new feature by far. “...You have to keep going,” he stated. “Keep eating and eating. Add more and more fresh fat onto this frame of yours.”

“I will,” Mikey nodded back obediently. “If it’s what you want. I’ll keep going as far as I can!”

Guy had never seen Mikey’s dick dribbling with arousal so easily. If this weight gain and submission was what aroused him so much, there was no way he could let it stop. “It’s what I want,” Guy agreed. “I want you to grow a proper fat belly, just for me.”

The pair kissed. Guy had never felt Mikey moan and collapse into him quite so much; like a ragdoll, ready to be played with.

“I know what’ll help…” Guy laughed, pulling down his pants and tugging on his own semi-erection until it was pumped and hard. “Let’s lubricate your throat ready for a full day of eating,” he joked cheekily.

Immediately, Mikey slipped to his knees. His jaws opened and he hungrily took the whole of Guy’s enormous erection down his throat like no one else on campus could. It took Guy by surprise each time, how instantaneous the pleasure was. He had to spread his legs a little more and reach one hand out to steady himself on the wall for fear that he may fall over. He didn’t need to press Mikey’s head into his crotch. The boy needed no guidance in the slightest. It was all just so perfect.

An involuntary moan escaped Guy’s lips. Now that his fuck buddy was getting fat, he wouldn’t have to worry about someone trying to steal him away. Mikey’s mouth was all his.

No one on campus was aware that Guy and Mikey were anything more than casual acquaintances, and so no one was cautious about discussing Mikey weight gain around Guy. The overall feeling was one of amusement. In many ways, it was understandable. Mikey had indeed been incredibly thin at the start of the year and he was heading towards the summer looking significantly softer and padded. For the most part, Guy simply ignored it, or tried to move the conversations away. He wasn’t about the campus drama and the behind the scenes bad-mouthing like some of the others. Sure, people were going to talk, but they didn’t have the full story in the same way that Guy did.

The final football game of the season arrived and Guy was pumped for it. He didn’t get nervous like the others seemed to. He was also bigger than everyone else on the field, not weighed down by excess weight, making him lighter on his feet than the opposition ever expected from him. He’d been buzzing the entire morning, heading to the gym for a full session despite the advice from his coach to rest that morning. He simply had too much energy to spare. He knocked on Mikey’s door wondering whether the boy was up for a little fun before he had to leave. Unlike everyone else in the dorms, Mikey never came down to the games. He simply wasn’t into sports, and that was fair enough. In fact, Mikey seemed entirely oblivious to the fact that it was even taking place that day, answering the door and ushering Guy inside excitedly.

“Look what I bought!” the chubby boy smiled, leading Guy over to his desk where a large, round cake sat waiting for a party of twenty people to come in and start feasting upon it. “I’m going to try and eat it all this afternoon!” he beamed.

Guy chuckled to himself, seeing the erection already pressing against Mikey’s sweatshorts. “You go for it, buddy!” he smiled, clapping the boy on his back. His enthusiasm for overeating and putting on weight was almost infectious at times. He lifted the plastic lid and swept his finger around the edge, gathering a decent amount of cream which Mikey excitedly sucked off.

“Do you want to feed it to me?” Mikey asked, pulling his shirt off to reveal his softening torso.

Inwardly, Guy sighed with disappointment. How long would that take? He had to leave in twenty minutes or so, and if Mikey’s mouth was going to be occupied that entire time, there was no chance of a quick blow job. 

“How about…” Guy began, lifting his own shirt off and dropping his shorts and underwear, “...we both have a little fun at the same time?”

“What did you have in mind?” Mikey asked, watching as Guy pulled out the lubricant from the drawer and squirted it into his hand.

Guy looked down at him with a smirk. Then he reached a hand into Mikey’s crack and began preparing the area, making the boy moan with arousal as his large fingers brushed and gently penetrated. Mikey pulled down his underwear to help him and was soon leaning into it so much that Guy could give him a decent warm up.

Having a firm press down on his back, Mikey obediently slipped onto all fours. Guy reached for the cake and placed it underneath the boy’s face. “Ready?” he asked, reaching for Mikey’s jaw, as if loosening it up for better movement and stretch.

Mikey’s eyes were on the prize. His head was lowered down into it, perhaps more than he was expecting, his nose now pressing into the sponge and his tongue lapping it all up with ferocious speed.

Guy assumed his position, grabbing a condom, sliding his hardness into Mikey’s gaping butt and sighing with pleasure. As blessed as most people told him he was with such a large dick, Guy found he was rarely allowed to settle into his own good rhythm when penetrating. There was simply too much of him to handle. WIth Mikey, however, the boy just seemed to relax so much, it was like total freedom for Guy. After wincing the initial time they had tried this, Mikey took to it with ease. He was the only one Guy could properly deliver what he referred to as a ‘thorough pounding’.

Through the mirror, Guy could see that Mikey’s face was now covered in cake as he tried to gorge himself at the same time as his body was getting pumped from behind. Guy laughed, happy to take the control that Mikey offered up so willingly. “Come on!” he chuckled. “You can do better than that!” he called out encouragingly, seeing Mikey’s tongue scrabbling about trying to lick up as much as he could.

The fat on Mikey’s back had really come a long way since they had last done this. The love handles in particular seemed to ripple and bounce out of sync with the rest of his body. The bones in his shoulder blades were less severe and an emerging softness appeared to be forming just under his arms. However, the boy’s butt was the centerpiece; the way it was spread so wide and felt so much softer to the touch as Guy gripped on.

A moan started emanating from Mikey. In the mirror, his eyes were rolling up into his head. He began oinking - actually oinking, as he continued to gorge himself. Guy sped up. There was nothing he got off to more than seeing someone else genuinely getting lost in the moment. Mikey was letting go like never before.

“That’s it!” Guy cried out. “Oink like a pig!”

Without even a hand anywhere near his own hardness, it was obvious that Mikey was climaxing. His face fell upon the cake and he groaned louder than he ever had during sex before. The whole thing made the pleasure build upon Guy with rapid speed; almost taken by surprise as he felt himself squirt.

Guy wiped the sweat from his brow and sighed in relief. He’d rarely felt so completely satisfied before. He pulled out, stopping only momentarily to chuckle at the wide, gaping hole he left behind, then unpeeled the condom and began dressing himself. The mess was everywhere, cake smashed into the carpet that would take some time to scrub out.

“Thanks for that,” Guy smiled, looking down at the fat boy who had rolled onto his doughy rear and not even attempted to clean any of the cake off his face yet. He too seemed to be enjoying momentary bliss, grabbing at the first roll of his fattened stomach like it was the most precious thing in the world. Guy’s work was done here.

During the summer months, Guy had sweet talked his way into an internship with a local company, hoping to boost his CV for when he finished his degree in a further two years. He didn’t need to be told that his pretty face would be an asset for the company, but he was surprised at how much more he was interacting with the clients than the others in his position. A well fitting shirt and a tight pair of pants never failed to make things easier for him to charm pretty much everyone he was around. Already, he could see how well suited he was to business; his boss realising what a force to be reckoned with Guy could one day become. "This guy is going to take over the world one day!" she'd laughed as Guy pulled in new clients from a sponsorship event that he had organised entirely by himself.

Guy had also briefly dated a couple of girls, wanting to experience the steamy ‘summer love’ of his old high school days. However, he still had no intentions of settling down for anyone. Not a chance!

Mikey, meanwhile, had taken a job at a fast food restaurant back in his hometown; returning to campus that year looking like he hadn’t stopped eating the entire time. Quite a few of them had applied to stay in the dorms and been successful, but there was still plenty of fresh meat for Guy to enjoy about the place.

Guy remembered being quite taken aback when he saw the full stomach on Mikey after their time apart. It had morphed from a tight paunch to a full starter gut, complete with pointed and juicy-looking nipples. Had the boy seriously eaten nothing but fast food all summer? A simple rub of Mikey’s stomach or jiggle of his fleshy rear never failed to get the new chub horny, and Guy was all in for that. He thought back to the previous year and how forward he’d had to be with shy Mikey just to let him know that he was interested. Sex had not been a part of Mikey’s life before then, and now look at him: his entire body turned into a playhouse of his kinkiest sexual fantasies! Guy felt nothing but pride.

“You knew Mikey from last year, right?” asked Samantha, a clearly high-maintenance fresher girl who had moved in last week. “Maybe you can get through to him.”

“Why?” Guy asked, wondering what seemed to be so urgent.

“You need to let him know that we don’t want to see his belly hanging out anymore. He’s just bent down into the refrigerator and I had about four inches of his butt crack staring back at me!”

Guy laughed. “Is that all?” he sighed in relief. “I thought something was wrong.”

Samantha exhaled in shock. “Something is wrong!” she blasted. “He can’t be allowed to keep walking around in clothes that are that tight! It’s disgusting!”

“Leave him be,” Guy shrugged. “You don’t need to be around him if you don’t want to.”

“There are some guys who make fun of him on his course,” Samantha pressed on. “If he’d just wear a damn sweatshirt or something to try and make himself look like less of a target, I’m sure they’d leave him alone.”

At this, Guy stood up from his chair, suddenly filled with anger. “Who’s been making fun of him?” he demanded, ready to go and see to them, right there and then.

“Mikey is the one who needs speaking to!” Samantha shot back. “Go ask him who the guys are. Maybe you can talk some sense into him.”

Shaking his head with annoyance, Guy stormed down the corridor and let himself into Mikey’s room without even knocking. The boy was sitting at his desk, still pushing a large tray of cream cakes he had collected from the refrigerator when he had offended Samantha so much. He turned in surprise, seeing Guy bursting in on him like this.

“Who’s making fun of you on your course?” Guy asked, closing the door behind him.

Mikey smiled; his chubby cheeks and chin showing all the more. “Oh, you heard about that?” he chuckled. “A couple of the new freshmen: Dan and Alec.”

“You’ll need to point them out to me,” Guy demanded, clearly annoyed. “I’ll soon sort them out.”

Mikey’s face was one of pure amusement. “Not everything is a problem that needs fixing,” he simply replied, pushing a cream cake into his mouth.

“What is it they say to you?” Guy pressed on.

Mikey chewed and swallowed. “Oh, lots of things!” he giggled. “Fat Boy, Pig, Piggy, Lardass!”

Guy could feel his heart beating faster with frustration However, Mikey seemed entirely relaxed and happy. “Wait a minute…” Guy stopped him. “Is this one of those things..?” he pondered. “Are you… Do you get off on this? The guys treating you that way?”

Mikey raised his eyebrows cheekily, not needing to say anything further.

“That’s why your clothes are so tight this year, isn’t it? You actually want people to comment?” Guy asked next, feeling like he had delved further than ever before into the mind of his part-time lover.

Again, Mikey only pressed a cake into his mouth and smirked.

Guy felt all the pent-up frustration in him release. A great wave of affection for Mikey swept through him and he reached out a hand to pull the chubby boy up from his chair, leaning him back into his great arms like he was trying to seduce him all over again. “You’re the kinkiest little fucker I’ve ever come across,” he smiled with delight. “You know that right?”

Mikey swallowed and grinned back. “You started this,” he stated, rubbing his easily accessible belly fat as his overly short t-shirt rode up.

Guy looked down at the boy’s gut and nodded. “I sure did!” he teased. “And what a good piggy you’ve turned out to be!” he smirked, trying the word out now he knew a little more about how it excited Mikey.

The chub seemed to melt into him further. They kissed and then quickly undressed for the inevitable.

The Spring was upon them once again as Guy invited Mikey over to his room for a quiet evening together. Mikey always seemed more aroused to be in Guy’s room for whatever reason. Perhaps it was the knowledge that Guy had fucked and pleasured so many people between those sheets of his. The large athlete was sitting propped up against the headboard, romantically caressing Mikey as he leant against his naked chest and watched a movie with him.

Watching movies was not usually Guy’s thing. He’d often been accused of having an attention difficulty in school, making him restless and troublesome in class, despite the high grades he always came away with. But here, with Mikey, Guy felt complete relaxation, rubbing that fat stomach that had been grown for him and laughing together at the funny parts of the picture.

“There’s actually a gainer event happening not too far away in a couple of months,” Mikey explained, scrolling through his cell phone.

“When is it?” Guy asked. “I can take you.”

Mikey mumbled nervously. “I’m not so sure it’s my thing…” he fretted. “I’d be too nervous.”

At this, Guy laughed. “Nervous? You?” He rubbed Mikey’s large stomach. The boy was now a full one hundred and twenty pounds heavier than he had been when the pair met over eighteen months ago, standing at a full two hundred and sixty pounds despite his fairly average height. He’d battled name-calling, family disapproval and public wardrobe malfunctions aplenty. “You’re the bravest person I know.” 

Again, Mikey grumbled in disagreement.

Guy quickly did an internet search on his cell phone and found it himself. “There!” he declared a minute later, putting his cell phone back on the bed beside him. “Two tickets. One for me, and one for my lardass!” he teased, kissing Mikey on the back of his head and squeezing him once more. “I’lll book us a nice hotel later too.” Picking up a few modelling jobs had definitely helped make Guy’s life a little easier of late, and there was no one who deserved a treat more.

As the date approached, Mikey had gone into a frenzy of calorie consuming, determined to look the part for a gainer event. The boy was just a frustrating couple of pounds shy of three hundred when Guy took his chubby little hand and led him inside. 

Guy had never seen so many huge men in the same room and they eyed him suspiciously until they saw that his hand was placed appreciatively on Mikey’s broad butt as they stood to the side of the dancefloor.

“There are still quite a few small guys,” Guy whispered to Mikey, who had been worried about not being fat enough for weeks. “A few dad bods with only a little gut to show for themselves.”

Mikey nodded, feeling better and more relaxed as others started coming up to them, wanting to know their story.

“That person’s been checking you out all night,” Guy nodded over at a slender and handsome man in the corner.

“No he hasn’t,” Mikey shot back.

“Trust me, when people aren’t checking me out, I notice,” Guy replied. “He’s definitely interested in you.”

Mikey smiled, rather flattered.

“Who knows, he might be open to a little…” Guy winked, having learned recently that Mikey had a small fantasy about having a threesome. Guy waved his arm and beckoned the man over to them, despite Mikey’s nervous protests.

The admirer introduced himself as Henry and he admitted to having attended plenty of these types of events in the last few years. “What’s your weight?” he asked Mikey; an outrageous question in any other circumstances but these.

Guy jumped in to answer. “He’s just hit three-twenty,” he lied. He was only one hundred and forty pounds two years ago.”

“That’s impressive!” Henry nodded, clearly more interested than ever.

“He’s been a high achiever his whole life,” Guy smiled, wrapping his strong large arm over Mikey’s shoulders with pride.

Henry wanted to know more about their situation and circumstances. Were they an item? Was it casual? Was Guy really a feeder? But when the time came to ask him if he wanted to come back to the hotel with them, Henry did not decline. They stopped for takeout on the way, with Henry very clearly getting off on how much Mikey was able to eat: being so assertive with the chub, clearly setting high expectations from the start. Then they all headed back, making every pleasurable second all about Mikey; just as he deserved.

At the end of another summer, Guy and Mikey embarked upon their final year of college. Mikey’s weight had continued to creep up, with his face now properly framed by a large double chin and his upper arms finally starting to puff up and broaden him up a bit.

“I actually met up with Henry a couple of times this summer,” Mikey explained casually as the pair of them lay awkwardly facing each other on the narrow single bed in Guy’s room.

Guy instantly felt ashamed of the giant wave of jealousy that washed over him. He’d slept with a countless number of people during their casual sex games of the last two years, yet he begrudged Mikey even this little thing in return. Still, he tried not to show his feelings, diligently asking questions and smiling encouragingly, as if this was all positive news.

“Henry really knows how to push me to eat,” Mikey went on. “I’ve never eaten as much in my life! And it was all the type of stuff that he knew would only make me fatter.”

Guy nodded, concealing the inadequacy he felt. He’d never really been what Mikey had wanted. He only knew the absolute basics of the feedism kink Mikey was so into and had, for the most part, got away without having to sit through many of the tedious feeding sessions Mikey seemed to enjoy so much. This whole affair with Mikey had started because Guy hadn’t wanted anyone to take the champion blow-job boy away from him, yet he had unknowingly opened the floodgates during that fairly average threesome he had been a part of back at the gainer event. “Are you meeting up with him again?” he asked casually.

“He’s coming here in December,” Mikey squeaked excitedly. “But he’s given me strict instructions to continue to eat and grow before then. I honestly think he wants me to be absolutely huge!”

Guy smiled back at him, despite the sadness he felt. Mikey was undoubtedly slipping away from him.

That December, Guy had been away with the football team during the weekend of Henry’s visit. Even so, Mikey’s weight had continued to increase at an almost alarming rate, both before and after the feeder had called over. It had been spurred on by the many messages and video calls the pair had made, despite the great geographical distance between them. Guy had so many other things on his mind, he tried to convince himself that it didn’t bother him, but he was never fully successful. Mikey himself was now entirely unrecognisable, coated with giant amounts of fat all over his body. His frame had widened, with fat spilling out from his round gut and his nipples sagging right onto his swollen midsection. He walked slowly about the campus, usually carrying a backpack filled with fattening supplies from the nearby supermarket in order to further his weight gain. Likewise, Henry had begun ordering fast food to the dorms, increasing Mikey’s intake even more and ensuring that the boy had surpassed three hundred and eighty pounds by April.

Guy knew that he couldn’t get away with avoiding Henry a second time when he stopped by for an entire week that Spring, just before the final exam season got underway. The conversation was polite, but it was obvious that Henry wanted more time alone with Mikey, rather than having Guy tagging along.

“Let’s be real…” Henry stated at the end of the week, taking advantage of the fact that Mikey had gone to the bathroom at the restaurant he was treating the two of them to a meal at. “You’re not actually a feeder, are you?”

“What does that matter?” Guy shrugged. “I’ve done pretty well getting Mikey’s weight up. He would still be that skinny little twig if it wasn’t for me.”

Henry shook his head and laughed. “No he wouldn’t!” he replied dismissively. “Mikey is a fat boy, through and through! I’ve never come across anyone like him. If you hadn’t been there, he would have found some other excuse to start piling the pounds on. It’s just in him. He’s meant to be absolutely enormous.”

Guy didn’t have a response. In reality, he’d known as much from the very beginning. Mikey had never needed much encouragement to overeat, and he’d always seemed propelled to fatten by some force greater than a basic kinky subservience kink to Guy himself.

“I’m going to ask him to move with me to Phoenix when he finishes college next month,” Henry announced; his tone one of uncompromising assertiveness.

“Phoenix?” Guy gasped in alarm. “But I’ll never see him!”

“What the hell did you think he was going to do when he finished college? You’ve got a job lined up here in the city, but what is there for Mikey? He doesn’t have any family here. You really expected him to just hang around for you?”

Guy exhaled, knowing that they couldn’t carry the conversation on with the fattened Mikey trotting back towards the table. He ground his teeth together, wondering how best to fight this plan to uproot Mikey’s entire life and move him to Phoenix. But then he witnessed the boy’s delight the next day as Henry made the offer, and witnessed the tears days later as Henry had to leave him once more. It was over. Mikey had found the one he was really meant to be with.

“You’ll come and visit me, right?” Mikey asked as Guy dropped the last of Mikey’s stuff in the back of Henry’s truck a few weeks later.

“Of course I will,” Guy nodded, trying to hold back on how cut up he felt that his time with Mikey was now over. “Just you try and stop me!”

The pair hugged warmly.

Next, Henry came up and shook Guy’s hand. Despite the silent animosity between them, there was an air of respect. Henry had been right, after all. Mikey needed a lot more than Guy could give him. This was the life that the fat boy coveted and deserved. But Henry was no idiot either. He knew what Guy was giving up; that he had fallen in love with the boy, and that his love was not returned; at least, not in the same way.

“Come on, Fatso!” Henry smiled, patting Mikey on his wide, blubbery butt. “We’d best hit the road.”

Guy stood looking into the distance long after the truck went out of sight. One very massive chapter of his life had just ended, and another was about to begin.

[mayasaurusss]

heyy, how are you? could you write jinx x reader? something like jinx overstimulating the reader just because she wants to taste them over and over, pls??

"Give me one more"

A/N: Hello anon! I am okay, thanks for asking! I wanted to apologize for not doing this earlier, and because this oneshot is far smaller than the other ones (419 words), but I hope you will enjoy it regardless!

Contents: smut, female reader.

"Come on toots, give me one more. You can do that, can't you?" the sound of her sickly sweet voice gives you goosebumps and makes you want to crawl inside the mattress your naked body sits in. Jinx has been sitting behind you for the past hour, her fingers curling up inside of you, tickling those spots that have you weak. She has a cruel yet curious smile on her lips, one that betrays her intentions of looking dominant and that uncovers the adoration she has for you; eyes calm, watching your every move, every twitch of your body, every gasp that leaves your lungs.

"You look so good like this"; normally that would make you vulnerable and open for her, but right now, as she says that, all you can feel is desperation as you know that she'll not relent until she has her fill of you; and by the looks of it, she's far from done. At yet another trust of her fingers, you collapse on the bed, short of breath and your limbs feeling like butter. "Tired already? Okay..." you hear her rustling for something behind you, promptly hiding it when you try to look. Then in a matter of seconds, you're rolled over, facing Jinx's teasing smile. It takes her a moment to bring you towards the height of her hips, before she sinks down and presses her lips into your crotch, slowly teasing her way down.

When the tip of her tongue finally flicks over your clit, you beg her to stop, too overstimulated to bear another second of her treatment. You try and try to pry her away from the heaven that is your pussy, but you're too weak in yet another post-orgasmic haze, and she's too damn strong ever since shimmer runs inside her veins. "Jinx, please, I can't..." your lungs feel like they're running out of space, your blood pumps faster and faster and your eyes roll backwards, as you feel yourself coming once again; all that's left, greedily consumed by Jinx.

A few minutes pass by, nothing stirring; and then, once again, you hear Jinx move. "Now that that's done," she skims out of her pants, attaching a harness on her hips before reaching for what she had been hiding from you: the strap on she likes to use on you from time to time. Already, you feel delirious and sweetly terrified as she grips the underside of your leg, angling your crotch on her hips; "ready to go again?".

[whateverloomis]

🖤 Dilf!Billy Loomis x Dilf!Stu Macher x AFAB reader (Stepcest)

Here it is cuties, part two (part one) <33 The thirst for dilf!Billy and Stu is intense with this one. Hope y'all enjoy ;)

Important: The image of the dress is only to show what I described in the fic. It's not intended to set a specific body type for the reader.

Tag list: @toxicanonymity @lyl1pad @elmoispookie

Warnings: Stepfather!Billy Loomis, age gap (middle aged Billy and Stu. Reader in their 20s,) AFAB reader (they/them used,) predetermined outfit, cheating, alcohol consumption, weed use, fingering, p in v, oral (both receiving, masturbation, rough sex, unprotected sex, daddy kink, lots of teasing, revised: January'25

Word count: 2.1k

After two weeks of nearly getting caught fucking your stepfather on your mothers bed you thought it would serve as a lesson and it totally wasn't.

You hadn’t gotten the chance to have sex with Billy again but that didn’t stop you from brushing your hand over his crotch whenever you walked past him, and it sure didn’t stop him from hugging you from behind and giving your tits a few squeezes while you cooked before your mother walked in the kitchen. Also, why would you waste an opportunity to makeout with him on the couch during movie night while your mother was in the bathroom? You were playing with fire. Getting caught was a stone's throw away but neither of you cared..

The third week after your little adventure you found yourself annoyed as you set up the whole house for a work party your mother was hosting. It was her boss's birthday and since she’s the manager and employee with the biggest house it was basically a default that most activities happened at your place.

That’s also how you met Stu Macher…

It was around the time Billy and your mother started living together. There was a small get together out by the pool and you were inside serving yourself a much needed glass of wine. As you poured the drink Stu walked in to get himself a beer from the mini fridge.

You made brief eye contact with the man and didn’t make much of it until he walked over to the kitchen counter to grab a red solo cup.

“Aren’t you too young to be drinking?” he asked you jokingly, but you could tell it was more than a casual comment.

“I’m legal if that’s what you’re asking” you answered, sassy as ever.

Stu found your little attitude amusing and held the conversation a bit longer than intended.

“You’re a feisty one, huh?” he countered and chuckled.

You couldn’t help but smirk. The dimple that his smile revealed, his natural flirtiness and his goddamn height was a mixture that excited and peaked your interest.

“And that seems to interest you” you continued and he leaned against the counter.

“You caught me there” Stu said and took a swing of his beer.

“Aren’t you supposed to be outside with your work buddies?” you asked before taking a sip of your wine. The cool and tart taste soothed your body.

“To be honest with you, I’d rather be at my house but y’know, gotta pretend that I like these people to keep a good appearance at work” he answered and you nodded.

“Cheers to that” you said and clicked your glass with his beer bottle.

“You wanna get out of here?” Stu asked jokingly and hell, you would’ve said yes in a heartbeat if he was dead serious about it.

“Why would I leave with a stranger?” you flirted and he smiled wide, those goddamn dimples on full display again.

“It’s Stu. Stu Macher” he said and looked out to the backyard as someone calling him.

“See you around, Stu” you closed the conversation and walked past him towards your room.

The man stared as you walked all the way to the hallway, raking his eyes all over your body. He would’ve taken you right then and there had it been another situation, and you sure as hell would’ve given in without hesitating. You even had a wet dream that same night about him fucking you on top of that kitchen counter…

As you arranged the bottles of liquor on that same counter, you remembered that moment and bit your lip at the memory. You even got wet at the thought and it enhanced as you felt Billy wrap his strong arms around your middle.

“I better not catch you drinking any of that tonight” he whispered in your ear and you pressed your ass against his crotch.

“Why? Am I getting in trouble if I do, Daddy?” you asked innocently and the man hissed.

“You’re getting fucked tonight if you keep teasing me like this” Billy replied while squeezing your waist.

“Can’t wait” you said and pushed your back against his chest, enough to move him and give you space to escape his grasp and walk to the backyard.

•

It was 11pm and everyone was tipsy enough to talk freely and be loud. You would be cooped up in your room having a solo smoking sesh if you didn't have entertainment. Two men to play around with. Billy and Stu, to be exact.

You decided to wear something provocative enough to get both of their attention throughout the night. A silk, olive green dress with thin straps and lower back cut.

You decided to go braless as well, your buds visible in an almost classy way. Underwear was out of the question too, easy access was your fun little secret. Even if you didn't get your way with any of the men of interest, at least you could fuck yourself with your favorite toy without the hassle of taking your clothes off.

Outside, you were leaning against the rail of the porch, just enough for your dress to hike up below your ass cheeks. A glass of wine in one hand and a vape in the other. You had a nice buzz coursing through your body and the cool air felt like a wave washing over you.

“Mind if I join?”

Behind you Stu was standing closer than expected. His button shirt had the sleeves rolled up and you couldn't help but look at his strong arms.

“Not at all” you answered, voice soft and inviting.

The man smirked and stood next to you; “Nicotine?” he asked, pointing at your vape.

You chuckled and shook your head no, “Weed. Want a hit?” you offered, which you rarely did but this was a special occasion.

“Sure,” he answered and took a hit from the device, releasing the smoke slowly.

You bit your lip at the sight, it looked hotter than it should've and you were already starting to grow wet between your legs. His proximity was enough to do so, but that sight really did it for you.

Little did you know, Billy was observing you from inside the house pretending to be involved in a conversation between 3 people. You caught his eyes and thought it would be fun to get him a little jealous and rile him up a bit.

As you made small talk with Stu, you got touchy with him on purpose as well as purposely bubbly and flirty, giggling and laughing loud enough for Billy to hear.

“You have the cutest laugh” Stu pointed out and you blushed, covering your mouth while you gasped, hitting his arm playfully.

“Having a good time?” Billy approached Stu and placed his hand on his friend's shoulder, squeezing tightly.

Stu glared at him subtly before catching your stare. Both men were scanning your body, looking from head to toe shamelessly.

“A great time now that you joined us,” you said boldly and he chuckled.

Stu took note of your flirtiness, confirming what Billy shared about you two earlier that night…

“Wait, on your wife's bed?” Stu asked, laughing. Definitely interested in the whole situation.

“Yeah, that little cunt is to die for. Nearly ended up knocking them up.” Billy continued, a smirk plastered on his face.

“Damn, I'd do anything to get a piece of that.” Stu said while staring at you from a distance. Billy enjoyed the view as well and he definitely had to fuck you that night or else he'd go insane.

“We could tag team for sure. A little more alcohol and weed will do the trick.” Billy confirmed and the men were both set on fucking your brains out…

Which is exactly what happened.

You don't know how you ended up in your room with your stepfather and his best friend, but there you were, on your bed straddling Billy's lap, making out furiously while he groped your ass.

Stu was sitting on your office chair enjoying the view of your now hiked up dress. Booty on full display for him.

You moaned into Billy's mouth as you started to grind against his clothes cock, desperate to have him inside you.

“Fuck, you look so good for us.” Stu said while unbuttoning his jeans, his hard cock finally being released from being trapped in his pants. Of course he didn't wear underwear.

You shook your ass to tease him and Billy spanked you. A warning from his part.

“You save that little attitude for me” he said and you smirked, loving how possessive your stepdad behaved with you.

“I was just playing around, Daddy” you teased further and he pushed you off his lap, pinning you against the bed, his large hand reaching between your legs.

Billy used his middle and ring finger to rub your clit in circular motions. Ring finger decorated with its rightful marriage ring, of course. A sinful display.

He collected your slick from your entrance, dipping his fingers just enough before sliding them back up to your clit.

You were sensitive at the start of the night, but after the alcohol, weed, the teasing… fuck, you could cum just by Billy rubbing your most sensitive spot between your legs. He was borderline torturing you with his slow, methodical movements between your legs.

You ended up grinding against his fingers, trying to feel them deeper inside you but the man wasn't going to please you. No. He needed you to be desperate for him, and that you were.

Finally breaking, you grabbed Billy's hand and pushed his fingers inside you. The long, pathetic, whiny moan you released made both Billy and Stus cocks twitch. Your cute noises affected them the same way and that did it for the man above you. He turned you around and unbuckled his belt quickly, followed by the zipper. He didn't bother to lower his pants much and released his cock enough to bury himself inside your cunt. You were soaked and the stretch felt incredibly good, especially when he bottomed out.

Thank Gods he positioned you on all fours because Stu was right in front of you. He was pumping his cock at the same speed Billy thrust inside you. He imagined how good your cunt must feel around his 8 incher, and you shared the same thought.

“You're such a slut” Billy grunted and pushed your head against the mattress, “Fucking your stepfather again and letting his friend join?” he continued and this time he pulled your hair back, your head facing forward to meet Stus gaze once again, “Pathetic” Billy finished and you bit your lip before sticking your tongue out for Stu. You needed to feel him inside you too and the man understood your message clearly. He walked towards you, cock in hand and rested the tip on your tongue. You purposely drooled and felt him harden further at the sight. You knew exactly what you were doing and he did too.

In a second Stu slid his cock inside your mouth and thrust in unison with Billy. You were stuffed and it felt incredible from both ends. Your eyes rolled back on their own as you felt your orgasm building. You needed to cum and that night you sure as hell didn't want Billy to pull out, so you made sure you squeezed him good when you came.

Reaching under your pillow, you pulled out the vibrator you were using the night prior and placed it on your clit, hitting the perfect spot and combining both pleasure points. The way you squeezed Billy's cock while you were reaching your high made it impossible for him to hold back.

“Fuck baby, keep that up and I'll fill you up real good,” Billy moaned and you whined around Stus cock. The vibration of your voice nearly pushing him over the edge.

After a few more minutes you came around your stepfather's cock, moaning around Stus cock again as he came inside your mouth. You swallowed as much as you could, the rest dripping all over your bed.

Finally, Billy came and he didn't care about pulling out, much to your liking. He thrust hard enough for the skin on skin contact to echo around the room as he filled you up with his seed, both of you moaning and groaning non stop.

When he pulled out his cum dripped out of your cunt and he spread your thighs to get a good look, chuckling at the sight

•

“You're leaving?” You asked Stu, pouting.

“My wife is waiting for me, don't wanna get home too late.” He said while buckling his belt.

When the man looked up, Billy was crawling between your legs ready to clean his mess with his skilled tongue. Stu chuckled while fixing his hair with his large hands.

“Don't have too much fun without me” he said.

“Get out” Billy said, half serious, half playful before licking a stripe along your slit.

Stu was already getting hard and had to hide his half boner before walking out of your room.

[ohimsummer]

COLD SHOULDER ft. BULLY! SATOSUGU

—minors dni, dubcon, oral [f. receiving], bully!satosugu x fem! reader, nipple play, groping, kissing, fingering, clit stimulation, one pussy slap, pet names (princess, pretty (girl), baby, sweetheart, puppy), implied penetration at the end

wc 2.2k

It’s obvious that someone like Gojo feeds off your reactions. He tugs at your hair so you yell at him, gets in your face until you’re forced to push him away, and he loves, loves, loves, the back and forth bickering for those truly vile insults you always sling his way. He’s just obsessed with little ol’ you. Barely at height with his chest, can’t move him an inch even with your sturdiest push, and yet you remain combative to Gojo’s every action. Until you’re not.

“You know she’s been giving me the silent treatment these past few days?” The warm feel of Gojo’s breath skims the shell of your ear, warmth pooling in your core while you shrivel deeper into Geto’s chest. Gojo runs a tongue over your earlobe, and pulls back just enough to catch your gaze, white brows upturned into a sad pout, before whining, “I mean really, what’s a guy gotta do for a pretty girl’s attention around here?”

Your eyesight darts to anything else in whoever’s bedroom this is, hoping to find some kind of distraction to take your mind off of these two. Gojo’s hot, heavy pants are loud over the stifled bump of music in the main area, piercing shrieks and cheers of drunk and crazed partygoers who are none the wiser to your current dilemma. Large, curious hands wander beneath your skirt, toying with the snug waistband of your panties. Geto’s firm hold keeps your wrists bound at the curve of your back, leaving you at the fiendish mercy of his white-haired friend.

“Just look at you, all pretty and dolled up.,” Gojo hums, lips lingering over your neck as he inhales your scent, before teeth sink in to add another purplish mark on your skin. “Can’t keep my hands off ya, princess.”

You want to lash out at him, bite back with the heinous album of comments that have been building on your tongue, hopefully enough to bruise his massive ego. Or tell him to get the hell off of you and keep his filthy hands out of your space. And he knows it, Gojo can recognize that familiar look of fury in your eyes, and he just adores how you so stubbornly keep biting your tongue. The stronger your efforts, the higher his yearning to hear just a single word from you.

“Still tryin’ to ignore us?,” Geto chuckles into the crown of your head. “Shame, I love the sound of that pretty voice.” He fidgets under you, grinding himself against your ass, an intoxicating, herbal smell of drugs wafting off of him. “C’mon, Satoru, make our little puppy bark.”

“Gladly”, Gojo remarks, eyebrows wiggling at you before two fingers skim dangerously close to your core. A shiver runs through you as Gojo mashes firm fingers to your cunt, prodding at your throbbing entrance through your panties, rubbing them over your pussy and coating your underwear in slick. Your lips quiver, legs desperately moving to close but they’re hooked over his friend’s knees, and Gojo licks his lips at your response. He casts a glance over your shoulder, likely at Geto, before moving up an inch to your aching clit.

“Ha, you’re fuckin’ soaked.,” he laughs teasingly, pulling at the crotch of your panties and watching the dripping strings of fluid connect back to your cunt, before letting the fabric snap back into place. “Actin’ all tough, pff, whatever.”

The words ‘shut up’ graze the tip of your tongue, just begging to be said, but you refuse to give in. That’s all they, especially Gojo, want. To get some kind of vehement reaction from you, and you won’t allow them the pleasure. Not when Geto eases a hand up your shirt to free your tits from your bra, and not even when Gojo begins sliding your underwear down your legs.

You tuck your bottom lip between your teeth, nibbling on the plump flesh, eyes narrowing at the sight of your panties disappearing into Gojo’s pockets before he spreads your thighs even wider. Heat rushes to your face at the knowledge that your pussy is practically on display for him. His twinkling blue eyes flicker over your glistening cunt, playful as Gojo leans in to plant rough kisses and nips over the expanse of your thighs. He spreads the drenched lips of your pussy, taking in the way you tighten and squeeze in a plea to be filled, before poking an index finger at your hole. His finger sinks right in, swallowed by your wet, greedy cunt up to his knuckle before he wiggles it around inside you. Geto takes note of your hitched breathing, how your wrists defy his grip in an effort for freedom. You catch winks of flowing black next to you, almost blending in with the dark shadows of this room, before you hear his voice low in your ear:

“Feel good, darling?”, Geto studies the flutter of your lids as his friend drives shallow thrusts into you. A long, needy whine breaks free, and he huffs a small laugh. “Mm, I know.”

Gojo sighs,“Fuck…”, totally awestruck at the way his large digit just disappears amidst the gumminess of your drooling walls. He retreats from your entrance, and both you and Geto can clearly tell he’s in love with the way your slick coats and drips down his finger. A steady fire blooms across every inch of your skin as Gojo takes the messy finger in his mouth, moaning in satisfaction at the flavor of you on his tongue. He savors the taste, eyes never leaving your own, and you watch as Gojo thoroughly licks the finger clean.

“Wanna taste?,” he asks when he’s done, pink tongue darting over his lips. “Or is that gross?”

He laughs at the scowl that forms on your face. You hate how Gojo somehow reads you so well, knows you’d call him disgusting and a pervert for what he just did. Hate how, if he didn’t know before, he definitely knows now that this is turning you on, if the way you leak fluids all down your thighs and this wooden dresser is any indication.

Geto’s pinch of your nipple acts as a distraction, pulling your attention back to his feverish, one-handed assault of your breasts. His fist clenches around your wrists, and you feel the hardness of Geto’s erection on your ass when he rolls his hips against you again.

“Mph!,” you barely stifle a whimper when Gojo lands a slap on your pussy, wetness spraying onto his flushed face. The way these two keep yanking your focus in every direction has your head dizzy.

Gojo raises an eyebrow at you. “Oh, what was that? Wanna speak up, princess?”

You give a desperate shake of your head, struggling to control the heave of your breathes as he begins massaging your clit under his thumb. “You sure?” And when you glare down at him, he shrugs. “Alright, then!”

Your eyes widen as he leans in closer, tracing over you one last time, and takes your pulsating clit between his lips, a loud whine catching in your throat as Gojo gives you a harsh suck. Head falling back over Geto’s shoulder, you arch away from his body, toes curling as Gojo laps and suckles onto the aching bud. Your jaw clenches, whimpering noises bubbling up your throat as your eyes roll to the back of your head, but you can’t help the few moans and mewls that break free.

“Ah, there it is, those sweet sounds.,” Geto muses, squeezing your wrists again in warning before releasing his grip on you. He’s pleased when you make no effort to fight back, muttering a ‘good girl’ with a pinch to your ass and trails his newly free hand up the expanse of your throat. Giving it a light squeeze, he kisses the roundness of your cheek, faintly rubbing a thumb over the tensed skin of your neck, and pulls your lips towards him. Your lids flutter open a crack, blurry image of Geto’s defined features overrunning your vision, before the soft feel of his lips covers your mind in a thick fog. Without your hands or a bruising bite to stifle yourself, the noise of your high-pitched cries easily begin to flood the room, a satisfying melody for both their ears.

“Can’t keep it in anymore, pretty?,” Gojo’s muffled taunt reaches from between your thighs, vibrations of his voice on your clit sending a twitch throughout your legs.

You can’t see him, only the mess of white hairs from the corner of your vision, but you can feel the penetration of his tongue, how it traces the surface of your walls, determined to mark every inch within reach. He uses thick fingers to bully your pulsating clit with rough circles and sharp pinches, rolling the hardened nub in his mouth between laps and broad strokes of his tongue, all of which easily drive out loud, needy whines you couldn’t even hope to hold back anymore.

“Keep making those lovely sounds, darling.” Geto moans into your mouth, sucking on your tongue before biting at your bottom lip. “Show Satoru how good he’s making you feel.”

Hot pants brush over your pussy, but Gojo continues his abuse of your clit. “Yeah, baby, talk to me, hm?”

The words, whether they were praise or an insult, because at this point you don’t know, get stuck in your throat, leaving room for only a choked sob to fall out as your hips mindlessly rut against Satoru’s fingers. Geto tightens his fist around your throat, leaving you struggling for already difficult breathes, his fingers still pinching and tugging at the pebbled skin of your nipples. The warmth in your abdomen has blossomed into a raging fire, muscles spasming as you gasp against Geto’s face, curses of ‘f–fuck–!’ and ‘shit!’ leaving your kiss-swollen lips at the sensation of your rapidly approaching orgasm.

“Hey, princess…,” Gojo catches your half-lidded gaze, tears building at the corners of your eyes. “Better talk to me or you don’t get to cum, got it?”

You twist your lips in a scowl, mind too dizzy but you know he means what he says, and you think you’d pass out and die if he took your orgasm from you when you were so close. He’s such an asshole, of course he’d hold your orgasm ransom just to get a few half-baked remarks out of you. Gojo's eyes peer into your own, head slightly tilted as he watches you weigh the options in your mind.

“F–,” he raises a brow expectantly, azure eyes widening in anticipation, trained on your lips as you hesitate on your words. “Fuck you, Gojo.”

And you’d think someone had just offered him all the money in the world the way his eyes light up, gleaming cerulean blues that crease under the giant grin on his face.

“Ah!,” he teases, shortly relishing in the moan you let out as he stuffs a third finger into your cunt. “There it is! Been dyin’ to say that to me all day, haven’t ya?”

You try and focus on something else, anything else to drown out his incessant mockery. But all that’s on your mind is Geto’s tongue down your throat, and his strong hand restricting your airflow, and Gojo still talking as his fingers curl to press into that spongy spot inside you–

“S–Satoru!,” you cry out, legs quaking as the coil in your tummy snaps, and your pussy gushes around his fingers.

Gojo stares, thoroughly bewitched by the way his name fell off your lips, and the cum drooling from your pussy, remnants of it dripping down his face and embedding into his clothes. “Holy shit…”He absentmindedly runs his thumb over the mess of your still-spasming cunt, barely taking in when you jolt under his touch.

“Stop it, Gojo, ‘m sensitive.,” you murmur between Geto's softened, sporadic kisses.

Your voice draws his attention, and suddenly Gojo is extremely aware of the aching hardness between his legs. He reaches down to palm at himself, hissing at the press of his hand against the bulge, before standing up from his kneeled position.

“Just look what you did, got me stiff as shit down here.,” Gojo huffs, undoing his pants to allow his cock some much-needed air.

You watch, dumbstruck, as the large appendage springs free. Even in the dim light of this room, you can see the redness of his tip, dick bobbing, precum dribbling down the length of it as Gojo takes a step closer, lining himself up with your entrance before rubbing up and down your slit.

Your eyes widen in surprise and you wriggle, only accomplishing to rub your sensitive clit against the head of his cock and Gojo sighs out a breath. “I-I said–!”

“Yeah, yeah, I heard ya.,” he interjects, rubbing two hands over your thighs. Gojo takes the back of your knees, holding your legs up higher to essentially fold you in half, and presses his hips forward, watching your cunt threaten to swallow his tip. “Maybe it’s good that you’re all sensitive, now. Might get ya talking some more for us, no?”

You angrily narrow your eyes at him, whining at the burn of his fat tip stretching you out. “No.”

And Gojo’s smirk widens. “Yeah, baby, just like that.”

[queers-gambit]

The Strength in Honor [ part 1 of 3 ]

prompt: ( requested ) embarking on a marital affair with your older sister's husband. strength to those with honor.

pairing: Marcus Acacius x female!Aurelius!reader

fandom: Gladiator II -> no masterlist

word count: 7.3k+

note: welcome back, my Roman Empire; my OG muse -> second note: author's only seen both movies once so AU timeline 'cause wonky brain is wonky

warnings: spoilers! AU timeline, kinda reader insert? flashbacks, reader knew Maximus, Aurelius reader, essentially nicknamed reader, cheating, sneaking around on your sister / family angst, depiction of secret abortions, romance, smut, NSFW, is this "feral" idfk, cursing, some implied age gap, height difference, use of Y/N, set up for a dramatic part two that will not be necessary to read, author interchanges Muse's names on purpose, drama, talk of impregnating reader, relationship angst, established relationship, very brief depiction of injury / blood / medical phenomenon (tending to Lucius' cut, putting in a stitch).

part two: read here part three: read here

Year 180 AD

Blood of Germanic natives still stained under his nails, armor latched tight, sheen of sweat cooling on his brow as the heat of the fire's flames he stared into licked his knees. There was confusion marring his thoughts, brows knit towards his newly broken nose that ringed his nostrils with dried bloody flakes. Marcus Acacius was faced with an impossible decision and prayed the flames before him would reveal any truth.

A heavy hand clapped his shoulder, startling the young soldier. "At ease," a deep, baritone voice rumbled in amusement; General Maximus Decimus Meridius shuffling around his comrade a moment to take a seat on the fallen tree trunk a foot or so from Marcus.

"General," Marcus greeted.

"It's late, soldier."

Maximus watched Marcus glance up to the night sky, blinking thrice before nodding with overturned, pursed lips noting, "So it would seem." His gaze returned to the flames, wondering, "Does sleep elude you, too, General?"

"Well enough," Maximus confirmed. "Though I am oft haunted by the events on the battlefield. You've a different look about you tonight."

"Am I that transparent?"

Maximus snorted, admitting, "No. In truth, I overheard what the Emperor offered you. What an honor, my friend."

Marcus nodded absently, agreeing almost inaudibly, "An honor..."

"Do I detect a hint of distain?"

Marcus looked up sharply, "Of course not, General, I did not intend to sound - "

"Be at ease, Marcus, my friend," Maximus chuckled, "we are alone here, you may speak freely. Come, tell me why I had to scour the camp to locate you. Why does the proposal to the daughter of the Emperor send you into isolation?"

Marcus sighed, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees; the flames silent in their wisdom, only spewing muted whispers of ash. "I love her," the accented soldier spoke quietly, sharing his secret with the fire.

Maximus sighed, "Lucilla is a woman of great beauty - "

"With respect, General," Marcus interrupted, turning to look at Maximus with near glassy eyes, "but while Lucilla is, indeed, beautiful; I fell in love with Venus."

Now, General Maximus smiled brightly, genuinely, softly identifying your name, musing, "The People's Princess."

Marcus chuckled, "Mine own Morning and Evening Star."

"One helluva woman."

"I'll say - she kneed me upon our first meeting," Marcus grimaced, hand to his crotch in phantom pain.

"Ah," Maximus laughed boisterously, "sounds like her. A true gem of a lady, rivaled by none."

"The fact that she even looked at me again after that..." Marcus had a far off look, one Maximus recognized well as one he adorned during his own affair with Lucilla. "Let alone that she... She loves me, too, Maximus. I know she's young, but what a feat to have her love. Yet, now..."

"Yet now the Emperor would have you marry his widowed Lucilla instead," Maximus finished, recalling the conversation he heard. "He needs an answer by morning, when you are to ship off once more to bring together his idea of Rome. The timing is... Less than ideal, I'll admit."

"How can I tell the Emperor no?" The soldier begged his General, almost startling him. "Maximus, please, you say you are my friend - please - how can I say no to marrying the Emperor's widowed daughter, and in the same breath, ask to marry his youngest? The very embodiment of Venus herself - whom all men and women covet?"

Maximus sighed and reached out to grab the solider's shoulder, giving a small rustle while asking, "Well, what did you tell the Emperor?"

"That he honors me with such an offer."

"And are you a man of honor, Marcus Acacius?"

"I endeavor to be."

Maximus sighed deeply, giving his man's shoulder a harder, more meaningful shake, "Then honor our Emperor - honor Rome - and accept his proposal. Lucilla's boy will need a father."

With one last smack, Maximus dropped his hand from Marcus just as the wood burning into embers crackled and hissed as if to input its opinion. Neither man listened.

"How am I to tell Y/N?" Marcus asked desperately. "The woman who loves me when I am nobody, with nothing? Who supported all I've done or wanted to do? It'll break her heart."

Maximus snorted in amusement, shocking Marcus, quickly assuring, "Ah. Do not underestimate her, she knows best what is expected of each of us, what our duties must be and where loyalties lie. Worry not, she will understand - better than any, of that, I can promise."

"How can you be so certain?"

"Because she once told me..." The two leaned in, Maximus gripping Marcus by the back of the neck to intimately hush, "There is Strength in Honor. And I know no stronger woman than she. Minerva in Venus' body, eh?"

16 years later Year 196 AD

You were draped in sheer white fabric, latched by shining belts and broaches of glimmering gold to match the gem-crusted jewelry dangling from your neck, wrists, and earrings. Different sized rings sat on freshly manicured fingers, moisturized in the finest of oils, a delicately crafted circlet of ivy crowned hair coiled in ringlets.

You waited in the ranks of other persons of high society ready to greet the procession of officers returning from their gruesome efforts abroad. Despite your position in society, you were - unfortunately - still a woman and women were never listened to; so, you leaned into your peer-appointed high-societal ranking and did your best to influence the Senators of the Republic. It wasn't exactly hard, being the People's Venus, the People's Princess, the People's Empress, the Should-Be Empress, or even the Never Empress - a nickname you weren't so fond of. You were the voice of the people and most had enough sense to tolerate you, else risk the wrath of the whole of the city in riots.

Twin Emperors Geta and Caracalla knew to keep you close, a symbol of peace and prosperity to the people; a puppet on strings, free for them to do or command as they pleased with no complaint from you since your only safety net, your father, Marcus Aurelius, has long since passed. Yet, despite their vivaciously open sexual appetite, the Twins never dared touch or disrespect you by soiling your innocence - hence the symbolic white drapes you wore, being unmarried. Little did anyone know, with the incineration of your safety net from your father's death, anew shall be woven.

When the heroes of Rome returned, you were called upon to greet the soldiers - and their officers, including the General. Floral petals snowed from the sky, and from your elevated position, watched as the love of your life was charted through the city on a chariot - wearing pristine matching white.

He waved to the crowds, honored by the hearty reception thrown to celebrate both his return and victory. You were merely relieved at the sight of him - whole, no visible wounds, and most importantly, alive. You were part of the welcoming party, a face people expected to see as despite not being married to either Emperor, they considered you their Empress. Something your older sister, Lucilla, did not particularly like - yet would never voice.

You waved from a private balcony, greeting the people cheering for their returning warriors. While a symbol of purity, white also symbolized victory - two sides of your coin, as cocky as that may sound. To the public, your innocence was still intact and yet, maintained secret hold of the man you loved. You slowly strolled along the banister, keeping par with the chariot hosting General Marcus Acacius, his eyes finding yours and holding for several long moments. You rounded into the palace's courtyard, waiting in the wings and simply watching Marcus ascend the stairs to greet the Emperors and briefly detail his successful campaign abroad.

You watched from the crowd of Senators, eyeing the General subtly to suss out any smaller injury he might've sported; ignoring the fact that his wife, your sister, was absent. After he properly greeted Emperors Geta and Caracalla, and presented the trophies (or spoils) of war, he was dismissed with a fresh, weeping cut to his neck. You felt something stir in your gut, making sure to catch Marcus' eye again before smirking and slinking away to attend your royal appearances.

Due to your father's legendary influence, corrupted brother's demise, and sister's emotional distress, the people turned to you for guidance and wisdom; part of why Geta kept you so close, having an unhealthy attachment to you as Commodus once did Lucilla. He did not mind your abrupt departure, watching you exit the royal grounds with your usual set of guards to begin daily duties around the city.

As selfish as it sounds, this was how you kept your place in a kingdom no longer your own: by getting your hands dirty. To work alongside citizens; to carry your own weight and soil pretty white fabric to facilitate a deep love from the people. Your most popular implementation was the law that food from the palace shall be sent to orphanages first, then what was left to the less fortunate. Whereas the Senators viewed your charity as a sign of weakness, Geta only allowed it because of his unsettling obsession, but you cared little for their opinions as it meant the food was not a waste and you secured your safety amongst the citizens of Rome. They knew your face, could voice their woes, found a friend in you rather than a politician.

Princess of the People, indeed.

Knowing the upcoming Games would be the official celebration of Rome and today was to be used to update the politicians on their success, you ended the day by mixing and mingling with the other persons of influence before returning to the private, personal villa armed with men hand selected by the General himself. They bid you a good evening as you passed, swiping the shaw from your shoulders with a heavy sigh of fake playing nice with the Emperors and others.

Their craven ways rubbed you wrong after your brother, Commodus, wrongfully usurped your father's throne after his passing; leading to a broken bloodline you were unsure how to fix. Though you understood why, you tried not to judge your sister too harshly on her decision to send your nephew, Lucius, away. Though it was a struggle the longer you lingered in the company of the Twin Emperors.

"My lady," a voice greeted, startling you enough to gasp and stumble back into a spare table in the middle of the room you passed through; knocking over a golden bowl of fruit.

"Marcus!" You snapped, seeing him remove his cloak's hood from the doorway he'd entered from with a smirk. He neared you as you caught your breath, hand to your chest, demanding, "Why have you come? What're you - you - you cannot be here, Marcus!"

"'Cannot'?" He repeated, slowly stalking down the stone stairs. "I do not remember asking permission, Princess."

"Yet still, you are denied, General," you scoffed, glancing at the other (empty) known entrances. "You risk everything by coming here now. Why? Have you not had your fill of adrenaline?"

"I had to see you, there is nowhere else I am to be but here with you, my lady. Are you displeased with me?" Acacius questioned, stepping in front of you with his hands once clasped in front of him, lifting to grip your waist.

"Never," you breathed, petting down his armored chest, "but my sister will be expecting you - you should not be here. If anyone were to discover us, there's no excuse we could offer."

Marcus sighed deeply, "With respect, my star, Lucilla is not my priority. She did not bother to attend the ceremony, it isn't like she's wanton to see me." His forehead rested on yours, "But I could not bare another second without you - "

You silenced him by lifting onto your toes and searing a kiss to his lips; holding the back of his neck for balance. His calloused hands tightened on your ribs, groaning in relief when your lips spread and both tongues instantly began their slippery dance of dominance. Nails raked into the short curls at the base of his head, other hand drifting to hook around his shoulders.

Waiting for a natural lull, you pulled back, "I've missed you."

"I swear to you, no more than I've missed you," he hissed, hands dropping to trace the curve of your bottom only to grip both thighs and heave so you were pushed back onto the round table the fruit toppled from. He didn't have to, but still spread your legs to stand between them; mouths open, tongues licking into one another. "I came straight here - after Geta dismissed me," his lips latched to your neck, licking, biting, careful not to leave any visible marks, "I had to, I needed to see you. I cannot stand the distance that curates between us."

"As much as I want to take our time, Marcus, you know someone will come looking, my love," you cautioned, sliding closer to reach for his many belts and latches. He began to assist you.

"Being why I chose your guards as I did," he chuckled, both moving frantically to shed his armor. "They're discreet, they'll hold off whoever may come and give us enough warning, too."

"Even from your secret tunnels?" You teased, working now on your broaches and belts as he stripped bare.

"Even there," he assured, nudging your hands away to bunch together the skirts of your dress and bundle them around your waist. "Thank the Gods," he breathed when your bare cunt was exposed to the cool night air; fingernails raking down the outside of your thighs to caress either knee to spread you further.

"I love you, Marcus, but if you're not in me in the next 30 seconds, I swear to every God - "

His laugh was borderline cruel, taking his free cock in hand to pump himself to full life. "Let me see you," he demanded, settling your hips at the very edge of the table while you freed your chest from the confines of your dress. "Good fuckin' girl," he praised, lathering his cockhead at the entrance of your progressively dampening cunt. Marcus' upper lip snarled as he took a moment to swipe himself from cunt to asshole, back, again, then notching and checking, "Good?"

"Please," you begged with a nod, yanking him by the shoulders so he pushed fully into you until sheathed like his sword deep within the enemy. Yet your wet warmth was no foe, but a succulent vixen that left his head spinning, heart hammering; totally addicted and coming back for more. Yet the way he instantly chose a feral rhythm to pound into you on a random table instead of the bed would've made any spectator think he was working out some kind of anger. Though hard to explain, you still felt every inch of his care, devotion, and love, but felt just as panicked to fuck him after his long trip away.

His movements left you absolutely speechless, repeatedly impaling you and feeling as if you were being fucked through the table; only able to hang on for dear life. "Oh, fuck the Gods," he panted, lips finding purchase along your collarbones, "needed this, needed this so fuckin' bad - just needed you. You feel heavenly, my love, shit, how're you this perfect?"

You could barely respond, "I have the perfect man to impress."

"Never need worry about that," he chuckled, coat of sweat layering both of your skin. "Fuckin' obsessed with you, my star, oh, fuck, just look at you," his one hand rose to curl around your neck, head instantly falling back to let your hair tickle down your spine. "My Venus, my perfect lady, my love," he grunted, guiding your torso back to rest on the face of the table so he could paw messily at your bouncing breasts.

"Mar-Marcus," you begged, writhing from the pleasure that now mounted after the subtle pain passed. Even after losing your virginity, going so long without your man's cock left you tighter than usual. And his vigorous speed and rhythm didn't help soothe the pain; but you didn't complain, part of you even enjoying that pinch, the stretch, the burn of him filling you. "Baby," you rushed, "fuck, you feel so good - don't stop."

"If I had it my way, this is how we'd live," he grit, humping into you with shorter strokes as his balls tightened with his mounting orgasm. "With me in you, in this tight, wet cunt, all the time. I'd never leave, never be apart from you," his mouth fell to your tit, biting harshly at the pebbled nipple before soothing his tongue over the sensitive flesh. "We'd go missing for days," he mumbled, lifting his mouth to your neck, "never to be seen, just lost in one another. I'll get us a country house," he promised over your lips, "give us remote, total privacy. Get away from this toxic city, be at peace, have free reign to fuck where we please. Everywhere, anywhere - ah, shit, love, I'm there - I'm there - fuck - "

"Please, please," you encouraged, nails digging into his biceps, "I need you to cum, Marcus, please, my love, cum in me, it's been too long - fuck, I need you to fill me."

"Fuck, yes," he hissed, "and watch you grow with our child in the countryside."

"Yes, please, please," you cried, toying with your own pleasure pearl to bring about your release. "All of it, Marcus, please, I need it - I need you - I need us - forever, please."

He reached to caress your cheek, the other planting your sweaty hips, "You'll never be without me. I love you - I've always loved you, for my life. All my life, it's always been you."

You moaned from the emotional intimacy, pressing harder on your clit as you reached your end in time for Marcus to find his own. With heavy grunts, he gave three direct, sharp thrusts as he milked himself for his worth in you. You were perfectly out of breath and fucked-out, holding him to you as he folded at the waist - still pulsing and twitching deep inside you - to recover from his simultaneous climax.

"Holy shit," you whispered, now lovingly scraping your nails over his scalp.

"Yeah," he chuckled against your sternum.

"Don't leave me for so long again, please."

"Not if I can help it," he mused, turning his head to kiss between your breasts slowly. When his eyes met yours, he asked softly, "All right, my love? Did I hurt you?"

"No, not at all," you assured. "I needed you just as bad." The air turned poignant as you sighed, "And now... You must go home to her."

Marcus paused before lifting from you, never pulling out. He looked at you for a long moment before gently collecting you into his chest, forcing you to sit upright. Pathetic tears of misplaced longing and sadness were brewing, something your lover could see. "I don't have to leave yet," he whispered, "for the Emperors are still hosting an affair in my honor. She will not expect me for hours more..." He pulled you off the table, making you gasp as his cock slipped out and your arms shot out to wrap around his shoulders. Your legs locked around his waist in an effort to keep your balance while calloused fingers dug into the soft, ample, plush flesh of your bottom. "And I am not finished with you yet, my star. It will be a long night for you, that, I will promise now."

You nodded, caressing his stubbled cheek; leaning in to press a sweet kiss to his lips as he moved for the privacy of your (usually shared) bedroom.

"Listen up, you mongrels," one of the guards, Augustus, shouted over the gaggle of gladiators, "all of you are expected to be on your best behavior! Because today - today, lads, we're being blessed with a visit from Venus!"

Those around Lucius chanted and hooted in what he understood as genuine excitement, piquing his curiosity with shifting and shining eyes. Surely, there was no real physical deity of the Roman Goddess of Love and Beauty - so who was this Venus creating such a stir? For a moment, he considered his Aunt - whom, as a child, he remembered being revered as Emperor Aurelius's Venus - but there was no way she was still alive, let alone in Rome. Right?

"You all know the rules!" Augustus grunted. "Mind yourselves and do not touch her! None of you," he glared pointedly over the crowd, zeroing in on Lucius, "may touch her."

"The hell's everyone on about?" Lucius asked when the courtyard dispersed to let the warriors begin their sparring and various trainings. "Venus?" He scoffed in disbelief, glancing at Ravi. "Seriously? What a cheap ploy."

"The People's Princess," the former gladiator-turned-healer informed, "the Should-Be Empress. Some whisper she's the Never Empress."

"That does little t'tell me anything," Lucius rolled his eyes in humor.

"She is Marcus Aurelius' youngest daughter," Ravi informed with a lowered voice, "rumored as our very own Helen of Troy. Our Venus of Rome, Y/N Aurelius. She's of the people, comes around once a week or so to tend to the wounded and such, and you will mind your manners."

"Hm," Lucius perked his brows, unimpressed by any Roman imperial. Even his own flesh and blood.

He noted when the doors opened, it was General Acacius himself escorting a women of such gorgeous stature, she belonged encased in marble. She wore drapes of varying blues, holding the General's arm tenderly as she earned her footing after dismounting her horse. Lucius watched as she spoke with kindness and animation to the guards of the Colosseum, surveying the group through kicked-up dirt.

Augustus pointed out the few gladiator's that had sustained larger injury - himself included.

Lucius noted the close, attentive, almost protective gaze the General kept on the Lady Aurelius as she worked through the crowded courtyard. Some gladiators needed no tending but still insisted she look at their cuts or bruises, her obviously just humoring them as it seemed they were all friendly enough. Then... Venus came upon Lucius and Ravi last.

"My friend," you greeted with your luscious locks pinned back off your neck and ears. The heat was rather unforgiving today.

"My Lady," Ravi shot to his feet, giving a small bow of his head as she caressed his elbow with a grin. "You look as beautiful as ever - blue's your color."

"You say that about every color I wear," you mused.

Ravi blushed, "It is truth each and every time, my Lady."

"Oh, you charmer. And who might this be?" You directed at the newest, unrecognizable fighter.

"A gladiator," Lucius answered stiffly, wiping his hands on a rag and avoiding your eyes.

"With a gorgeously festering cut," you noted, pointing to his bicep. "May I?" You offered, already moving around the benches to take a seat. Begrudgingly, Lucius agreed; sitting and offering his arm for you to examine with narrowed eyes and gentle fingers, humming knowingly. "I have a poultice that should soothe this infection, but it might need cleared and stitched first," you considered the wound, asking your friend, "have you seen this, Ravi?"

"I have, Lady, and tried treating it - but none have hands as gentle and healing as yours."

"You're too kind," you chuckled. "Though with so much carnage of late, I fear my talents in healing are wasted here."

"What would you know of carnage, my Lady?" Lucius spat. You looked up to hold his gaze for several long moments, a slow smirk pulling on one side of your lips as his eyes - there was something about this particular gladiator's eyes.

"I know my father, Marcus Aurelius, died for a vision of Rome that his loyal devotees endeavored to build," you informed, prodding at his wound with a thin needle, your own medical case open at your feet. "He was murdered, his throne usurped. I was there once upon a time, amongst the bodies. The carnage, death and destruction."

"Why would a Princess of Rome be one the frontlines?" Lucius scoffed, glancing at Ravi with a dramatic snarled lip. He wanted so badly to resist the Lady's charm - but even he had to admit, he was faltering.

"Experience is the best teacher, Gladiator, we all learn most successfully through exposure," you offered simply. "I was there, tending the wounded, harvesting our dead. I saw what war does to a nation, to the land and resources, but most of all, to its people; but I also understood my father's reasoning and necessity. Yet now?" You scoffed, eyes rolling at the man's bloodied bicep as you seemingly lost yourself in explanation, "Those that come after him have done nothing to bring his Empire together, nor deserve such triumph - or so they call it. I do not know of such victory when there's been too much life lost - and so unnecessarily, too. Father would be disgusted by the efforts our Republic has shown."

"Yet you parade with the very general responsible for such carnage you claim to disagree with," Lucius snarled softly, glaring at you threading the needle.

You hummed and threw a stitch in his open cut, "While easy to blame, General Marcus Acacius is a man of great honor and not the man your anger - which you cannot hide," you snickered, bumping Ravi's shoulder with yours, " - should be directed at." When Lucious scoffed and shook his head, ready to retort, you continued, "The General was a solider first and foremost, fought under the greatest gladiator these Games will ever know - the General Maximus Decimus Meridius, the Spaniard." You paused, noting the reaction from the warrior. "Ah. You know the name."

"He's... Honored under the Colosseum, yes," Lucius agreed, seemingly interested in your words suddenly.

"Well - " You had to pick at an angry-looking scab, instantly apologizing, "sorry - sorry - sorry," when it wept again. After using a clean piece of gauze to staunch the bleeding, you continued, "The General is a man of honor, Gladiator, as I said. He takes direction, he is a subject - just like the rest of us. It was not Marcus Acacius who decided the whole of Rome should be expanded - he only took his orders from the Emperors, and for his own life," you smeared the pomade to sculpted flesh, "had no choice but to set sail; to march, fight, invade, concur. There is a reason the people adore him; he is kind and just, fair, generous, accommodating and polite, politically moral - "

"You sound in-love," Lucius interrupted with a knowing grin, teasing you now as his defenses lowered slightly. He wondered if you remembered him; knowing you were younger than he is now when your father passed.

You wrapped his bicep with a simple bandage, "I would not have him become the ire of your anger, nor anyone's - not with our Emperors being as... Unstable," you hushed, tightening the knot of the gauze painfully tight, Lucius hissing through clenched teeth, "as they are."

"You speak dangerously, Lady, restrain yourself," Ravi checked around them for any droppers of eaves.

"I speak to two men who deserve the truth," you corrected. "The General did not wish to invade your home, Gladiator," you told Lucius, "but it was a command he could not refuse. If you wish for vengeance, perhaps direct that anger towards the true enemy of Rome: the greedy and craven who rule it."

"You speak of mutiny," Lucius realized with intrigue, leaning forward to his knees.

"I speak of justice. Tell me what was taken from you, Gladiator, and allow me to aid your division of a plan for your own justice," you bargained, "and in return, I ask only for you to see the truth of Acacius when the time comes."

"Your General sailed onto our shores," Lucius seethed, "to invade our lands and concur our people - unprompted and without reason beyond that of greed. And when my wife shot at him with an arrow, she was struck from our defense walls... I found her in the sea before your General took Roman prisoners of war. And here we now sit, Lady. Tell me - how can you rectify what's been done? How can you justify it to my face?"

"How can any of us? In truth, I cannot imagine the pain, the devastation. Though it means little, I'm sure, allow me to offer my condolences. I'm so sorry about your wife, her fate is unjust, unfair."

He was quiet for a long moment, then nodded, "Thank you. I... I appreciate that."

"I will not justify what Acacius has done during times of battle," you hushed carefully, "but I can direct you towards the true object of ire, those you should not trust. There is something brewing, my friends," you glanced at Ravi, "and we all must be ready. The people are stirring. There has been much done," you told Lucius, "by men greater than General Acacius, much that we cannot rectify. But that does not mean we cannot change the future, adjust course; do better moving forward. I am sorry about you wife, Gladiator, I am - I cannot make you believe that, but trust, I understand the pain of loving someone you cannot have anymore. Yet all I ask of you is to understand, as a gladiator, a solider, a warrior, the General is not who wronged you."

It was quiet as you finished cleaning around Lucius' arm; giving a casual glance around to note where each and every guard was.

The Gladiator questioned quietly to the ground, "Allow me to ask, if one were to... Consider revolting... How might one go about gathering the men and strength?"

You only shrugged and checked his forearms to prolong the ruse of treatment, "I hear rumor there are some 2,000 strong and loyal men to Acacius just outside the city, but rumors are just rumor." You held his icy blue eyes for a long moment, then went back to feigning work as he held no other notable injuries. "Listen, should you still continue this anger with the General, I understand, Gladiator, but allow me to assure, that energy is simply misplaced. You seek the wrong enemy, the wrong death to avenge your wife, because it is not Marcus Acacius, who is only a loyal soldier - yet still slave to the Emperors, as we all are in some degree."

Before anyone could answer, a cart was being lead into the courtyard by a procession of guards. You handed a small jar to Ravi with a set of instructions and when the General approached the tented benches you sat upon, you accepted his helping hand and bid the pair a good day - and to the Gladiator, good luck in his future fights. His smirk broadened when you dropped him a personal, private, knowing wink. You were escorted towards your horses, Lucius leaning towards Ravi, "What's happening with the carts?"

"Venus does not let food go to waste," Ravi smirked. "Anything from the palace is dispersed through the city of the less fortunate. Today, it is our turn."

Lucius turned to face Ravi directly on the bench, questioning sharply, "Who is she? Truly?"

"I told you, as did she."

"What is this kindness she shows? What game does she play?"

Ravi smirked, "There is not a single citizen in Rome who is not self-serving, my friend. Rome was not built in a day, but should something ever happen to her, the entire city would burn in a night. She's our Should-Be Empress, and her kindness is genuine, there is no game. I've come to know her intimately through the years - she's truly her father's daughter. If you question her loyalties, know it is with Rome."

Lucius nodded slowly, watching in the distance as while all were distracted by the arrival of food, the General spoke intimately over Venus. Lucius noted she was who reached to caress his jaw briefly with a grin before turning for their horses. His hands looked all too natural on the Lady's waist as he helped hoist her into the saddle, different questions brewing in the warrior's mind.

Days later, returning to the palace after visiting the gladiators again for more potent wounds after another round of the Games, your guards dismounted outside the stables as you leisurely strolled inside whilst still mounted. You nodded to the grooms and stablehands, leading your beast into his usual stall; spacious enough to turn him in a circle before dismounting. It was later in the day than you originally intended to return by, but it wasn't as if you were missing anything or had other engagements.

You just wanted to be home. In bed. Preferably with the man you loved, but you'd take a cask of wine at this point.

You tiredly untacked the bridle from your steed as hands seized your waist from behind, making you gasp and with the bridle in hand, swung your fist about as hard as you could. To your shock and horror, the intruder anticipated this and caught your wrist, musing, "Impressive reaction time, my lady."

"Acacius!"

"Sh," he hissed, backing you into the wooden stall's corner, "do you want to get us caught? We've not long - they're turning the horses in soon, but the guards are posted," he let his lips remain parted from his words to all but instantly push his tongue into your mouth. You could not restrain the moan he elicited from your lungs even if you tried, bridle dropping to the sawdust and hay so your hands could find purchase in his curls.

"We don't have time," you insisted when his hands grabbed at the flesh under your skirt.

"You underestimate me?"

"I would never, General," you whimpered when he used every muscles in his arms to lift you onto his waist; pressed back into the wall for balance. In assistance, while he was busy holding you up, you maneuvered the skirts of his tunic and usual armor to free his cock; finding him hot, hard, and heavy. "How're you this - "

"Thought of nothing but you all day, love," he grunted when he needed to readjust to better support you while taking hold of himself. "Don't think I can keep this up much longer, pet," Marcus panted into your mouth, swiping his cockhead up and down your slit to quickly ready you. He paused to pull back and spit in his hand, using that to smear around himself. "This sneaking around, the secrets, this affair. I love you, I want to be with you in every way; I don't think I can keep up with this ruse any more, my sweet."

"Acacius, you must."

"No, no, you don't understand," he heaved when he sunk inward, encasing himself in your gooey warmth, "I'm at my wits end, my lady. You are all I know, all I think of, I cannot be without you." His teeth bared as he humped into you wildly, bodies banging into the stall; making you reach out to hold onto the wall as the other slapped around his shoulders. Your nails dug deep into the layers of flesh.

"You're," you moaned and gasped in his ear, feeling his skin slick with sweat already, "you're - you're married - "

"That can change."

"To my sister, no less!"

"Matters little to me," he grit against your neck, "because I've loved you for my life and I am sick of not hosting you in my life as appropriate; to not have you as I need, as I must."

"To marry me?" You asked desperately, bringing your arm back in to caress his cheek and keep his face over yours; lips barely grazing together. Knowing he was turned on by emotional intimacy just as much, you continued, "To make me your lady? Love me loudly, in front of them all? All of Rome? Have a baby, perhaps?"

"Yes, yes, exactly that - marry you and watch my seed stick," he snarled into your flesh, humping harder, faster, like a stud horse during the season. "Bet you're gorgeous swollen with child, tits filled with milk - "

"Only when you marry me," you bargained, the sounds of his balls clapping the apex of your cunt a strange comfort to listen to. You didn't even think of the guards. "When my sister is taken care of," your voice lowered as you focused on your orgasms, "given a life of peace. I would not have her outcast as a divorcée."

"I'll see it done on my honor, she'll be taken care of," he promised, punctuating each word with a sharp thrust of his hips, "and then, it's just us, my love, it's us - it'll only be us. As it was always meant to be."

"Only us," you moaned, tears slowly gathering in your eyes. You knew he was too honorable to actually divorce your sister and desecrate your father's dying wish; you knew this was as good as you'd have him. Your heart broke as it did 16 years ago whilst accepting Acacius' orgasm.

Two days later, you were laid in bed, bare to the world, gazing at Acacius as he slumbered in momentary peace. Guilt wracked your entire being, never wanting to hurt your sister, but after having everything stolen or stripped from you, there was no true shame in loving the man beneath you.

Or so you told yourself.

"I can feel you staring again."

With a chuckle, you watched Acacius open his eyes and tilt his head downward. "You're just so handsome, I can't look away," you whispered. "And we don't often get hours like this, I want to relish in this sight."

He hummed, "A fault I shall amend. Do you know the time, my star?" Based on your saddened expression, he guessed, "Time to go, I suppose?"

"She'll get suspicious if you stay much longer."

"She pays me no heed," Acacius scoffed, rolling his eyes as he sat up; forcing you to roll off him in shock. "Our entire marriage - she doesn't so much as look at me, not the way she looked at Maximus. Not the way I look at you."

"I care little for how she looks at you, it's about the law, Acacius!"

"Spare me the law! She is committing far worse than me!" He snapped, making you recoil slightly; clutching the thin white sheet to your chest. When he noted your expression, Acacius sighed, "I'm sorry, my star, I should not have spoke in such a manner."

"It's not the manner in which you spoke," you watched him dress with your heart drowning in your chest, "but the meaning behind such words."

"I did not wish to tell you," he spoke to the tunic being adjusted, "but there have been... Suspicions."

"What sort?"

"Have you never wondered? In the years we've been married, she's never bore us a child?"

"Not for lack of trying, I'm sure."

Acacius shook his head. "She used herbal remedies to rid herself of the implications of our coupling," he frowned, watching the information register. You got from your bed, wrapping the sheet around you as he sighed, "I did not want you to know for this reason, do not look at me like that - "

"As long as I've known you, you've wanted to be a father," you pointed out, "and now you tell me, my sister's been secretly, what, aborting - ?"

"Yes," he spoke seriously, "and to the Empire, that is a serious offense. Yet I spoke nothing of it, I never confronted her out of guilt. She had Maximus, I have you; it was only fair of me to keep quiet of my suspicions."

"There's no such thing as fair, Acacius!"

"Then we shall make it so. Your father - he made what he wanted, why can we not do the same?"

And so, at long last... You had been forced to the table. The time had come for "the talk". Much was discussed late into the night, seemingly forgetting about time restraints as the seriousness of your conversation took precedent.

At the center of it all, you had realized the Twins could no longer rule and a revolution needed to take place. Rome needed saved, you bore a responsibility to the Empire and her citizens first. You lead the idea, Acacius supporting you wholly as ideas came to mind almost rapidly - reminding him once of your father, and later, of Maximus in some ways.

After dressing, you walked the General to one of the many hidden entrances of your villa; unaware of a nearby maid lurking around a column, a newly non-vetted face in your home. A detail that slipped through the cracks and would lead to devastation. She listened as you promised, "I'll go tomorrow before we meet with the Senators, but I am sure the gladiators will fight with us."

"Let me go instead, the men know my face, they will take my order," Acacius tried once more.

"They know and trust me, too," you smirked. "Father outlawed the Games for a reason, I have strong suspicion they will fight with us. Rome will fight with us, she deserves better than what she's getting now, it's up to us to complete Father's vision."

"And the Senators?"

"We'll find out tomorrow." The maid gasped to herself and fled around the corner, rushing for a distant entrance. "I'll send word to them by morning. Acacius, you know we speak of overthrowing the Emperors, whom we are both sworn to serve... Are we sure? The people are behind us, but are we sure this is the best course of action?"

"There's little other choice. I fear it's this or we run away - abandon the Roman Empire to her devices under craven rulers who someone will surely overthrow eventually."

You nodded, tears gathering, "We're truly doing this?"

"We're truly doing this," he swore, taking either cheek in hand. "I'm divorcing your sister, we'll free the gladiators, lead my men into the city and take it back; turn the tide for Rome at long last."

"As Father intended..."

Marcus nodded, glancing down before pulling you forward into his chest, requesting hastily, "Don't drink the tea."

"My love, the tea is how we stay safe."

"The tea is what poisons my seed. I'll marry you by next week, there'll be no need by then - why not start now?"

You gulped, "Because if this revolution doesn't work, the tea might be ineffective in a few days."

"Good."

"Acacius," you scolded, "this is serious - "

"I'm well aware," he rushed, thumbs swiping over the apples of your cheeks. "I know the gravity of my words, of what I ask you. Yet I will still request you do not drink the tea - though, I cannot tell you what to do with your own body."

You were quiet, leaning into his embrace until your foreheads met and his hands dropped to hold you by the hips. "I am not my sister, I will not make a decision such as this by myself, for myself. I won't drink the tea tonight, but I will have a decision about it by tomorrow."

"Of course," he whispered, "fair is fair, my star."

Your nose nuzzled up his, agreeing, "Fair is fair."

"Tomorrow then."

You froze, shaking your head for a moment, "Now that it's time, I don't think I can let you go."

"So continues our nearly 20-year dilemma," he groaned, pulling you in for an embrace; pressing his face into your neck, one arm tight around your waist as the other gripped the back of your head. Quietly, he swore, "Soon, this will all be over, my love. We will all be at peace, able to honor what we've earned."

You whispered, "There will be Strength in our Honor."

"It's strength and honor, love," he snickered.

"Not my version."

[ part two: read here ]

[ part three: read here ]

requesting rules and masterlist

-> no Gladiator II masterlist

Acacius got me like:

yah know?

[gurugirl]

1. The Unicorn | nanny!yn

Unicorn: An individual who is willing to join an existing romantic relationship. Usually a bisexual female.

Summary: You nanny for the Styles, but Harry and his wife would like to offer you another position.

A/N: This will be 3 parts. Based on this and this.

Word Count: 5.9k

Warning: 18+ only, smut (fingering)

The Unicorn Masterlist

“She’s perfect, Harry.” His wife watched out of the window as you walked to your car parked in front of their house.

“I don’t know. She’s taking care of the kids every day while we’re at work. How does that make her perfect?”

“Because look at her! And she’s so sweet and I just have a sense for these things. She acts all shy and innocent but I bet she’s kinky under it all. And haven’t you seen the way she looks at you?”

He had noticed your glances. The placement of your gaze over his frame. But Harry never thought too deeply about it. Not really. Though he kind of liked that you couldn’t help from dropping your gaze to his lips and then down over his shoulders and mid-torso until every time you breezed your pupils over the natural protrusion at the front of his crotch you were suddenly quickly reminded of what you were doing and bounced your head back just the tiniest bit to correct your sight to the more appropriate height.

But just because you were cute and couldn’t help when your eyes skimmed over his cock with the quickest peek didn’t mean you were perfect to invite into the bedroom with him and his wife. He was hesitant to find a third. He knew that it was unlikely this would end well but his wife had been begging him for it.

Kit was bisexual and once she married Harry, she learned that she often missed the more feminine touches and pretty soft curves. Someone more submissive. It had been almost 8 years since she’d slept with a woman so when she offered a threesome to Harry, she thought he’d jump right at the opportunity but instead, he was worried.

“I think this is a bad idea no matter who it is, but having it be the nanny is like…” he ran a ringed-clad hand through his hair, “… the worst. What if you don’t like seeing me with another woman? Or if I hate seeing you kiss anyone else? I don’t know if I can handle this. And poor Y/n is then stuck in the middle.”

“Harry,” she turned to him and put her hand on his forearm, “You and I are solid. I trust you and you trust me. I know you can handle this. Just the same as I can. I think this will be really good for us. Probably will just make us insatiable for each other. I’m already getting so turned on just thinking about watching you with her. And just imagine it, Harry, having us both laid out, spread legs…” She smoothed a hand up his arm and to the back of his neck, pressing herself close to his body, “You dip into her for a few thrusts and then pull out and—“

“Mom, can I have ice cream? Y/n said I had to wait til you and Dad were home.”

Harry and his wife laughed at the timing. They’d be returning to their conversation later.

.           .           .

You arrived bright and early Monday morning as requested. You loved nannying for the Styles. Mrs. Styles was so kind to you. She always made sure you had everything you needed and Mr. Styles was funny and easygoing. Plus the twins were a dream. You loved William and Warner as if they were your own.

“Morning, Y/n,” Mr. Styles smiled warmly at you as he opened the door. Warner walked up to you and hugged you. He was the one that liked hugs a lot.

“Morning Mr. Styles…” you laughed and patted Warner’s back, “and you too Warner.”

Mr. and Mrs. Styles left for work not long after but before they left they both asked you if you could stay after work that night. Mrs. Styles would make dinner and the three of you could have a glass of wine and chat a bit after the kids were put to bed.

Of course, you said you’d love to. Though you had kind of been looking forward to going home and watching your show, you wouldn’t mind having dinner with the Styles. The truth was you found Mr. Styles extremely attractive. He was the hottest guy you’d ever seen. He was married so he was obviously off limits but that didn’t stop your brain from short-circuiting every time you were near him.

And because of the way Mrs. Styles acted around you, almost flirty, you sort of had a crush on her too. You were interested in women but had never dated one. You’d only ever been in a couple of real relationships. You were too shy to approach people you found attractive so your pool of potential dates had been low.

So yeah, you’d accept their invitation for dinner.

.           .           .

“William made a picture today,” you rattled off a few things the boys did. The picture William drew was too cute and he even drew you in between Mr. and Mrs. Styles like you were part of the family.

He held it up proudly and Harry took it and pointed at the figure that was supposed to be you, “Who’s this, Will?”

“It’s Y/n,” he gestured to you.

Harry smiled at William and said how nice it was as he handed the paper back to him. He looked at you for a moment that felt a little warm and lingering before Mrs. Styles brought out the hot pan with food to the table.

When the table had grown quiet as everyone began to eat you wanted to remind Warner to tell his dad that he’d finally gotten the part down on the piano that Harry was teaching him.

“Warner, remember what you were supposed to tell Daddy today?”

When you looked at Harry with a smile you noticed the slightly surprised look on his face but by then it was too late. You hadn’t meant to let the word Daddy slip out like that. If you’d been thinking you’d have said “… supposed to tell your dad today?” Even the twins didn’t call Harry Daddy anymore.

And of course, Warner was already excitedly telling Harry about the part he’d learned on the piano before you could correct it. You hoped no one thought anything of it and while you’d fantasized about calling him Daddy a time or two, you really didn’t mean to say it out loud.

Darting your eyes from Harry to his wife you saw nothing from her at all as a reaction to your misspeak.

Luckily no one seemed bothered by it but you could tell Harry thought something by the surprised smile on his face.

You loved watching the boys interact with their parents. And being able to see it during dinner and then after clean up until they were in their beds with books to read quietly felt special.

Harry, his wife, and you sat in the living room with a bottle of wine. Mrs. Styles sat next to you and she started doing that thing where she looks at you in that way that gets your heart pounding and raises your temperature.

With her hand on your upper arm, she gushed about how much she and Harry loved you. How great of a nanny you were and how lucky they were to have found you.

Harry sat across from the couch in a leather armchair and watched you and Kit with a more solemn look on his face. He nodded at the end of his wife’s praise for you as he looked at you directly. You felt a shiver up your spine at the intensity of his eyes. But it wasn’t just that. There was something so formidable about him. Like he was governing over the moment. He was still Mr. Styles but with an edge of something uncertain. Darker.

You looked back at Mrs. Styles and smiled shyly, “Thank you. So much. I’m really happy to be working for you. And the twins are just amazing. I feel so lucky too.”

Kit’s hand smoothed down your forearm until she softly pushed her fingers through yours. She was sitting with her legs tucked under herself, feet on the couch, and knees angled toward you.

“Honey, you’re coming on too strong,” Harry chided his wife.

“No, I’m not. I’m just being friendly. Y/n is so sweet. I just…” she looked at you, “You don’t mind this do you?”

You loved the way she was looking at you. If you didn’t know any better you’d say she was hitting on you. That had to be wrong, though. Her husband was right there watching you two.

“It’s fine. I know you’re just being friendly.”

Harry laughed and shook his head and spoke his wife’s name in a warning, “Kit. Are you sure you want to do this?”

You looked between the pair. A little confused about what they were talking about. You didn’t know if you’d missed some dialogue somewhere or what but you were definitely picking up a vibe between them.

“If she’s up for it then yes, I’m sure.”

“Up for what?” You questioned them both.

Harry raised his brows and looked at his wife, “I’ll let you do the honors.”

Her hand squeezed at yours gently, bringing your attention back to her. Her other hand brushed over your knee with the tip of her fingers casually, “We think you’re very sweet and pretty, Y/n.” Kit began.

You kept your eyes on hers the best you could but she’d been wearing a low-cut dress and, not unlike the times you dropped your gaze to Harry’s crotch, you couldn’t help peeking at her cleavage with the same attempted deftness.

“And we think you might be fun to…” she paused and looked at Harry, who nodded at her to go on, “Have in bed. For us to share.”

You looked down at where Mrs. Styles was grazing your kneecap with her fingertip and whispered, “To share.”

That was quite a lot. If what she was saying was what you thought she was saying then you’d have to determine if it was worth it.

“You don’t have to say yes, Y/n.” Harry chimed in, “I know you’re a really sweet girl and you don’t want to disappoint anyone but if you tell us no we won’t be upset. You won’t lose your job.”

You were thankful he said that. It had flashed across your mind the idea that if you said no they might not want to keep you around.

“So, you’re like asking me to have a…” you gulped and looked between Harry and his wife, “like a threesome with you?”

“Yes. You don’t have to decide right now. And like Harry said, you don’t have to say yes. We just both find you very appealing and sweet. We’re very much attracted to you too and we trust you. I think we’d all work well together. It could be just a one-time thing or maybe it could be something we do regularly.”

The subject was changed shortly after. They’d done their part. They’d asked you what you thought and now the ball was in your court. You had to figure out what you wanted. Which made it hard to participate in the rest of the conversation. You tried but your brain was having a hard time moving past the things your imagination was coming up with.

“I hope you don’t feel weird after this. No rush to make a decision. Seriously.” Mrs. Styles smiled softly at you as she drew her fingers from the side of your jaw to under your chin delicately.

“Thank you. I just need some time to think.”

She leaned in and kissed your cheek as Harry stood behind her with his hand on her shoulder.

When you’d all finished the bottle of wine Harry and Kit walked you to the door. You still didn’t know what you wanted exactly. In a fun fantasy world (which you’d definitely be visiting in your imagination that night) it would be amazing. To have them both? Yes. That sounded so good. But the reality of it wouldn’t be that easy you knew. Would it be awkward to work for them after? And what if you did some kind of arrangement with them as their… what was it called? A unicorn?  

You felt breathless as you got into your car. You hadn’t had all that much wine. A glass and a half. The bottle was split between all three of you so none of you had gotten even close to drunk but you felt all buzzy. And even turned on. The idea of what they were offering sounded like a dream. But maybe that’s how it should remain. Just a dream. A fantasy.

.           .           .

The following day everything seemed normal. The Styles acted as if they hadn’t just asked if you’d want to have a threesome with them. It felt surreal. Like perhaps it never happened.

But when Harry arrived home first after work you felt like something about him was different. That’s when the cracks started forming. That morning he was friendly like he always was. But now he was brooding. His eyes were heavy on you. As if he was now looking at you differently.

He listened to William and Warner tell him about their day but you felt his eyes singing you as he kept looking your way. You felt intimidated by him suddenly and looking at him in increments longer than a few seconds felt like you’d dissolve.

He walked you to the door after you said goodbye to the boys and held the handle tight before turning it, “You wouldn’t want to stay for a drink would you?”

The way he asked you felt less like a question and more like a reminder to you of what was still left on the table. It was a reaffirmation of what was suggested the night before. It was real. It had happened and he was here to remind you.

You looked down at his hand grasped around his door handle and back up to him. You were compelled to say yes as you began to nod, “Yes. Okay.”

You felt nervous. Harry’s grin looked like he was pleased by your answer.

The boys were playing in their room as he poured you a glass of wine.

“When will Mrs. Styles come home?” It was rare that they weren’t home at nearly the same time after work.

“She’s going out with a friend tonight. She’ll be late. I thought you and I could get to know one another a little better. She knows I planned on asking you to stay. I’m glad you did.”

You nodded and felt your nerves only grow. Alone time with Mr. Styles wasn’t something that ever really happened much. Normally Harry was with his wife when he discussed anything with you.

You both sat on the large couch in the living room as Harry lifted his glass toward yours, clinking them together.

“So, what are your plans this weekend?” Harry had one leg draped over his other casually as he looked down at you.

“Uh… I don’t have any. Normally I just make last-minute plans with friends,” you squirmed in your spot at the way he was consuming you with his eyes.

“Maybe if you find you’re free you could come over Saturday afternoon. The kids will be staying with their grandparents. Kit will be making something special for dinner.”

“Oh, that sounds nice. Yeah. I mean, as long as it’s not imposing,” you were growing hot. Your palms were sweating. Harry was so attractive it was making your body weak. You honestly didn’t care what would be made for dinner but you were curious about where the night might lead if you did wind up in their house without their kids around all night.

“Of course, you wouldn’t be imposing. You’d be the guest of honor,” Harry’s arm slid over the back of the cushion behind you, and you gulped nervously.

“Oh, that’s…” you breathed out a jittery laugh, “… not necessary. No need to do anything special for me.”

“I hope you know that anything that happens, we’d always make it special for you, Y/n. We want you to feel comfortable.”

You could feel the temperature around your body rise with his proximity. You had noted how he’d inched his way a bit closer.

“Thank you, Harry. You and Mrs. Styles are always so nice to me.”

You were visibly nervous. Harry could see it too.

His wife had suggested that he invite you to stay for a drink and more if you allowed it. She really wanted to try any angle to get you to say yes to their offer. She figured if you were alone with Harry for a bit maybe you’d feel more comfortable. So, Harry was working on just that. And the more he thought about you and his wife’s convincing argument to bring in a third, he found he was more and more into the idea.

Plus you were simply the sweetest thing. He could see that you were a little timid and somehow that made his body respond to you in a way he hadn’t felt in a while. It set his blood to a low boil. His wife was lovely. Amazing in bed but it was true that with her there was something missing. He rarely got the opportunity to dominate his wife and really release his natural inclination to flex his prowess with her. Because she was dominant as well. And Harry didn’t mind it for the most part. But he missed certain things.

“We’d like to be more than just nice to you, darling,” his fingers behind you softly brushed against your neck and you inhaled shallowly at the contact. “But you already know what we want. How about you? What do you want, Y/n?”

You fluttered your eyes closed for a moment as you felt the pad of Harry’s thumb slide up your neck. Harry’s cologne and his natural scent were so appealing. You turned to look at him and worked up your nerve, “I think it sounds really fun. The offer. I’ve never been with a woman.”

He licked his lips, “You’ve experienced men, then, yeah?”

You nodded. You were sure he could see you physically melt.

“What do you like, Y/n?”

You had not expected the conversation to go this way, “I don’t… I’m not sure. I’ve not really done a lot. Nothing too crazy,” you laughed your words in embarrassment.

Harry’s soft petting on your neck continued, “That’s okay. We can figure it out as we go. To be honest, we’ve never done anything like this either.”

“And Mrs. Styles? Has she been with women?”

Harry nodded, “Yes. This was her idea actually. She’s been missing a feminine presence in bed.”

You felt the trickle of lust and carnal need swell in your body as Harry drew his free hand across his body and to your knee, “Is this okay?”

You nodded, keeping your eyes on his. You wanted to lean forward and grab your glass of wine and gulp the whole thing in one go but you wouldn’t dare break from his hold. It was intimate and having his hands on you was satisfying.

Harry looked toward the hallway and then back to you, “I’d like to kiss you. Y/n. Are you comfortable with letting me kiss you?”

His lips felt like they’d burst into flames if he didn’t press them into yours. But he couldn’t do that in front of the twins because he knew that once he felt your mouth and your tongue he was going to want more and if you were open to it he’d take it even further. His wife had given him permission as long as he was discreet (not in front of the boys). No sex without her present but some heavy petting and fingering were fine.

“Okay,” you breathed and expected him to kiss you right then as you braced yourself.

“Yeah?” He squeezed your thigh and tilted his head as he looked down over your body, “Go into my bedroom. I’ll be right there.”

You were shaky as you stood up and watched Harry walk away to talk to the twins in their room. The boys were old enough that they’d play by themselves just fine, you knew. You lifted your glass of wine to your lips and gulped half at once. You couldn’t even remember walking to the master bedroom upstairs. Your mind was a swirl of what-ifs and scenarios and questions.

“Are you okay?” Harry said as he closed the door behind himself. Everything was happening in slow motion. You were trying not to feel so floaty and far away but you couldn’t help it. Your experience with sex had been minimal and you certainly had never pictured yourself as part of this situation.

“I’m just nervous. I’m always like this the first time…” You swallowed and looked at the edge of the dresser against the wall.

“That’s okay,” Harry stepped in front of you and rubbed his hands down your arms, “I’m a little nervous too but I really want to kiss you. Just didn’t want the boys to see.”

You nodded in understanding, “And it’s okay with Mrs. Styles?”

His hands slowly grazed up your arms to your shoulders and then around to the back of your neck and head, “Her idea. But in all honesty, I want to kiss you. Feel like I need to.”

Blinking your eyes you raised your arms to hold onto his biceps as you kept your eyes pinned to his. He was solid under your hand. Of course, he was. You knew Mr. Styles was fit and you’d seen him in shorts and t-shirts and once glimpsed his pecs. You knew he had tattoos.

But when he finally nudged his nose to yours and his hot lips wrapped around your mouth everything went from being slow motion and blurry to high speed and heart pounding. You couldn’t get enough of his mouth and his tongue and you gripped his arms until he’d practically lifted you off your feet and pulled you to his bed.

His kisses were wet and warm and he moaned into your mouth. He was ravenous. It made you feel like a seductress, like he craved you.

You were across his lap and twisted to face him with your arms over his shoulders and your tongue pressed to his when he cupped your face and parted from the kiss.

“Y/n… Fuck honey…” he dabbed a kiss to your jaw and then looked back at you, “Can I get your pants off? Make you feel good? No sex tonight,” his words were deep and thick, “That’s for Saturday. But for now,” he ran a hand up your thigh up to your hip, “I can give you a preview with my fingers. If you want.”

“Yes, Harry,” you breathed your words and tried to lean back in for another kiss but he kept you at a distance, his hands on your jaw and fingers cradling the back of your head.

“I really liked it when you referred to me as Daddy last night. Will you do that for me again, honey?”

See. That was the thing. You already thought of him as Daddy. In all your private fantasies you called him Daddy. But it made you nervous because you fantasized about Harry far more than you ever did his wife. Kit was beautiful and she was definitely your type but Harry dominated your secret daydreams. So it would be easy for you to call him Daddy. But it worried you when it came to having his wife included in that dynamic.

“Is that okay? I mean,” you sighed breathily, “Will Mrs. Styles be okay if I call you Daddy?”

“I don’t think she’ll mind,” Harry licked his lips, “Tell you what. Tonight, call me Daddy because I want to hear your sweet voice say it when I finger you, okay? I’ll talk to her and let her know I asked you to and I think she won’t care but if she doesn’t like it we won’t do it again.”

You nodded. Daddy it was. That would be easy.

Harry brought an arm to your low back and leaned you down onto his bed. The bed he shared with his wife. With his knees dug into the bed next to your hip he loomed over you and brought a gentle hand up to the front of your neck and pressed, “How does this feel? Is this okay?”

It was a first for you. To have someone’s hand on your throat. It was a surprise. But the good kind. You loved how small it made you feel and how powerless. You knew if you asked him to remove his hand he would but the notion that you were physically relinquishing your power to him was so hot to you somehow.

“It’s good,” you breathed just before he inched down to kiss you again.

It felt absolutely nuts what you were doing. Making out with your boss, a married man, in his bedroom while his wife who was away gave him permission and even encouraged this situation.

Harry’s hand slid off of your neck and down your t-shirt, “Can we take this off? All of it? So I can see you?”

You nodded, “Yes,” and sat up so you could pull your shirt over your head. Harry unbuttoned his own and watched you unzip your pants and tuck your fingers inside the waistband before lifting your bum to pull them down your legs.

With his shirt unbuttoned you saw more tattoos. You’d paused for just a moment when you took note of his bare chest and abs.

Harry got to his knees and leaned over you, his hands on either side of your hips, “Do you need help with this?”

He put his hands over yours where you were grasping your waistband and helped you pull them off your legs.

His hands found your calves as he looked at you, “You’re so pretty, Y/n. Take your bra off.”

So you did. Unhooking the back and letting the front fall down your arms. Harry’s hands found their spot on either side of your hips again as he softly kissed each of your nipples, “Beautiful. Can I take your panties off?” His fingers were already dancing over the fabric of your waistband, knowing you’d be saying yes.

You gulped and nodded as he dragged the material down your legs, rendering you completely nude. Harry let out a breath as he raked his eyes over skin and curve and freckle.

Harry lay next to you and took your hand in his, bringing it up between you on the mattress, “You still doing okay, Y/n?”

You were feeling very vulnerable and insane for laying completely naked next to him but still you nodded. Because you wanted more of what he was doing.

You rolled to face him on your side when he smeared his mouth over yours. Letting go of your hand he moved his fingers down over your side to your hip and then upper thigh just at the curve of your ass. He squeezed softly but enough that you could feel his big palm grasping your flesh. You lifted your thigh to mantle his hip out of instinct and his palm spread out over the globe of your cheek.

“Want my fingers, honey?”

The way the tips of his fingers were grazing so close to your pussy with your leg draped over him you were losing your mind. All he had to do was lower an inch and he’d feel your wetness.

“Yes, Daddy.”

Harry moaned and moved his head back to look at you, “Oh I really like how that sounds. Let’s have a look then,” he ran his hand over your hip to the front of your tummy as he moved back the tiniest bit to press his fingers over your mound. Slowly his fingers lowered until he met soft wet lips. He breathed in through his teeth, “You all wet for Daddy?”

The smile on his face was cocky but you loved it.

“Yes,” you bit your lip.

With his eyes on yours, he parted your labia with two fingers and slowly ran them down to your opening and then back up until he bumped your clit and pressed over that. You moaned softly.

He was easy with his fingers on you as he kept slipping them up and down, pushing your arousal through your crease and getting his fingers coated.

When he captured your lips in his again you felt him prodding at your entrance. You sucked his tongue into your mouth and he pressed two fingers inside as you grasped onto his shoulder.

You groaned as he fingered you and fixated on the spongy dip inside. You bucked into his hand, “There we go. Feels good doesn’t it?”

You panted yesssss.

The sloppy noises that were coming from between your legs would have been embarrassing if it didn’t feel so good.

“Please,” you breathed as you lowered your hand to his hip, “I wanna see.”

Harry kept thrusting into you with his fingers while his thumb smoothed against your clit, “You can on Saturday, baby. For now, this is all about you.”

You whined and closed your watery eyes as he began to fuck into you faster. His palm was a sticky mess. You raised your hip and rutted into his hand harder.

“You’re gonna grip me so tight and I’m gonna push inside you deep,” he punctuated his words with his thrusts, “Have you creaming all over my cock.”

Your groans grew louder as he pasted his mouth to your neck and you felt the warm press of his tongue on your skin, his curls brushing against your jaw. He shifted so that suddenly you were on your back and he was on his side with his fingers still inside of you, lips on your breasts.

He felt so good and you were already so caught up in the way he was making you feel you’d all but forgotten that this man was married and he was your boss. This was better than your fantasies. He was more confident and a lot more dominant in reality. And just sweet enough that you felt safe.

Harry lifted upward slightly, still pumping his fingers through you causing you to let out a small squeal. You felt his hand cover your mouth and you peeled your eyes open as he lowered his lips to your tits, his fingers plowing through your walls. You were being too loud.

He peered up at you with his tongue gliding over your nipple, his shoulder flexing with each thrust of his arm. Yes, this was definitely better than fantasy. Because it was happening and it felt so good.

You felt his lips slip off the skin of your nipple, “If I take my hand off, you gonna keep quiet?”

 Nodding your head you softly moaned into his hand. He pulled his hand away from your mouth and leaned over you to kiss your mouth. Softly at first. It felt like candy-flavored pink sparkle dust magic with his warm lips smoothing against yours, and his nose mushing into your nose.

“Daddy, please…” you breathed as he lifted himself to look down at you.

“What baby?” The sound of your wet pussy getting fingered was the backdrop of you beginning to unravel.

“M’gonna come… Daddy, ffuu– ohhh!” Your mouth was quickly covered again when your volume grew even louder than it had been. You heard Harry softly chuckle just as you clenched around his fingers and grasped his forearm, your neck stretched over the pillow as you arched your back.

Harry looked down at his hand and groaned at how your pussy was devouring his fingers. He couldn’t wait to see what his cock would look like sinking into your perfect cunt. And he thought you were pretty when you orgasmed. He was sure he’d want to make you come over and over again if his wife wasn’t too greedy with you.

“Such a good little girl, Y/n. There you go, baby.” He smirked at you, his fingers still slipping into you, squelching when he buried them in all the way.

“This what you needed? Needed to come on Daddy’s fingers?” Your soft moan was muffled as you finally set your gaze back on Harry who was already looking at you.

“Just imagine how good it’s gonna feel on my cock.” He slid his thumb over your clit and you jolted from sensitivity.

Harry took his hand off your mouth and slowly pulled his fingers from your pussy as he sat back, stuffing his fingers into his mouth to taste you. He could smell your pussy as he was fingering you and couldn’t wait to get a taste.

Popping his fingers out of his mouth he caged you into your spot on the mattress, hovering over you, “How was that?”

“So good,” you were still taking in labored breaths.

His mouth encased yours once again. His kiss was lustful and fiery. You could smell yourself when he cradled your head, his fingers, still damp with you, swiping into strands of your hair.

A deep moan fell from his chest and you pulled your arms over his shoulders and the cotton of his shirt. Your body began to ignite again just before he parted from your mouth with a gasp.

“I’m sorry. Got carried away. Your lips are so sweet,” his voice was deep and breathy. “You okay?”

“Mmhmm,” you nodded and smiled.

Harry insisted on helping you clean up. First, you peed but then he came in and wet a towel to help wipe you and talk to make sure you were okay.

You could tell he had a boner. The front of his trousers was bulged in an obvious way. His pupils were dark and his skin was hot. And you would have loved to have him use you however he wanted to take care of himself but you wouldn’t go against his Kit’s wishes.

“So, Saturday? You sure you want to come over?” Harry handed you the clothes he’d picked up from the floor and his bed.

“Yeah. I’d like to.”

Harry cupped your jaw and smudged your cheekbone with his thumb, “Good. I’m glad to hear that.”

He walked you out to your car and squeezed your hand before dropping it. It felt strange. Like you’d just gotten away with something so immoral and improper but you were elated.

“I’ll see you in the morning, Y/n. Drive safe.”

“Okay. Thank you, Da–“ your eyes widened and you felt your whole body wash in heat as you tried to correct your near-fatal error, “Ha- Harry.”

The grin on his face with smiling dimples told you that he didn’t mind, “Night, sweet girl.”

Part 2

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[thrasherella]

Dragon!hybrid who absolutely on purpose accidentally gets himself and his cute lil' human coworker trapped in the supply closet while everyone else is at lunch

...

"Was that the door?" she felt an uncomfortable lurch in the pit of her stomach, a little grunt escaping her as she was roughly pushed forward into the shelves.

"Fuck," he swore softly; she thought because he, like her, had realized that yes, the light 'click' they just heard was the door closing behind him, locking them inside the cramped space until someone from the outside opened the door.

The actual reason he had sworn, was because with the way they were positioned in the tiny space, her back was fully pressed against his front, and she was at the perfect height that her soft ass was jammed into his crotch.

He tried to move so that he could give her more space but it was impossible, ending up pushing further into her; she could feel her face growing hot as she became aware that his cock was nestled right up against her slit, separated by just a couple of layers of clothing. The thought of his thick, ridged cock being shoved inside her made her cunt ache, feeling a hot pang behind her naval, using every ounce of her willpower to keep herself still.

This was exactly what he wanted.

"This is the closet with the funky lock, huh?" of course she already knew the answer; everyone at the office knew this supply closet was jinxed, had an abnormally heavy door, and a lock that locked automatically from the outside as soon as the door closed, but for whatever godforsaken reason couldn't then be unlocked from the inside. She was just really, really hoping that she was wrong.

He could tell she was trying so hard to be nonchalant, but he could already smell her mounting arousal, feel the little shifts of her hips, the heat starting to radiate from her body.

She might have wanted this as much as he had.

"Yeah," he breathed, licking his lips, mouth suddenly very dry. "We're stuck until someone opens the door from the outside..." his voice trailed off, and there was a very pregnant pause, and then it was as if a sudden switch was flipped.

They were desperately grinding against one another, writhing within the small space, hips rolling and bumping as they tried to push themselves as close together as possible. She made soft moans and sighs as he hushed her gently, reminding her to be quiet.

"You don't want to get caught, do you? Or maybe you do, hnnnn? Do you like being watched?" his voice was unexpectedly low, and he felt his swelling cock throb as she gave a little whimper in response, but did not argue against him. "You do like being watched; what a dirty girl, I knew you were a freak," she heard his tail thump against the door the same time she felt his tongue, hot and wet against her ear, and she bucked her hips harder, a shiver running down her spine. She wished so badly to feel more of him, and as if he had read her mind she felt his clawed hands running up the length of her thighs, scratching her lightly, goosebumps racing along her skin.

He was unintentionally pushing her into the shelves, and she accidentally knocked over some spare boxes of pens and permanent markers, sending a couple of them clattering to the floor as one of his hands slipped under her skirt and quickly pulled aside her thin panties, pressing his digits against the outside of her soaked entrance. "Mmmmm, whoops--" one curious, insistent finger slid into her soft folds, and she was unable to stop the heady sound that fell from her lips. "You're just so wet..."

He fucked his finger in and out of her, adding a second digit, her sweet juices running down his hand and wrist as she drenched him, his unrelenting fingers brushing up against all the right spots. Mercifully, she'd found an old, spare blanket that was way back on one of the shelves, which she now pressed her face into, muffling her erotic cries.

"Fuuuck that's so hot," his breath was hot against her ear, voice again that low, rumbling tone. "Do it again..."

He made her come three more times on his fingers before he was satisfied, all the while feeling his rock hard cock grinding against her ass.

She felt a sudden molten surge of anticipation as she heard the clinking of his belt buckle being undone.

"Tell me little freak, is this your first dragon dick?" there was the soft sound of fabric hitting the floor, she felt the back of her pencil skirt being pulled up and something very hot was between her legs, pushing earnestly against her waiting pussy, her breath catching in her throat as he slowly filled her and then some, stretching her to her limit around his thick rod. She was seeing stars, feeling like he was going to split her in two as he made her take every inch of him. She had been right in her assumptions about his ridges, the extra texture rubbing against her insides in ways she hadn't felt before; it was amazing.

"Yeah," she managed to pant out, her legs already beginning to shake. "You're my first...it's so fucking good," she finished with a high pitched whimper as he gave a particularly rough shove, pushing his feet underneath hers so that she was standing on him. He held onto her hips, claws digging into her delicate skin, bouncing her up and down along his cock, pulling her back against him, using her like his little fuck toy.

Her mind clouded over, she couldn't think straight; all that she was able to process were the intense waves of pleasure that crashed over her again and again with every stroke of his cock, her pussy clenching and fluttering around his length as she came, squirting all over the floor and the shelves on front of her, his husky voice whispering and moaning in her ear.

"That's it cum for me baby...fuck you take me so well...I knew you would feel so fucking good on my dick; so wet and tight...cum for me again pretty girl..."

She became aware of something big pushing against her cunt, his rutting becoming more erratic as he fast approached his own climax.

"I'm gunna knot you," he grunted, grasping onto her hips tightly. "You're gunna look so pretty filled with my cum..." he abruptly rammed himself even deeper into her, his knot penetrating her already stuffed cunt and locking her to him as he gave a long, low growling moan, shooting her full of his hot load as he came. Her vision started to go black around the edges and she felt tingly all over, crying out in ecstasy into the blanket, coming with him for one final time.

She was overflowing with him by the time he was finished pumping out his orgasm into her, both of their juices mingling and staining much of the storage closet.

They remained entwined together as they caught their breath, his knot eventually relaxing and allowing him to slip out of her wetly, more of him dripping to the floor now that she didn't have his cock as a plug.

"You're gunna wanna clean that up before lunch hour is over," he chuckled lightly, getting his pants back on as his tail flicked against the doorknob, which turned and opened the door with ease. "By the way, the closet that does lock from the inside, is one floor up. We should really do this again sometime..."

[abstractvanity32]

Season 3

Spontaneous Change - Things That Happen in the Bathroom

As Hannah washed her body down, she felt something extremely off about herself. She didn’t know what causing it but she looked down to see that her feet were expanding and growing. Toes thickened and veins bulged. Hannah’s eyes widened, as her she felt the heaviness of her hair get lighter, as it darkened to brown and shortened.

She felt her back crack, as her height began to increased. Brown hairs sprouted from her legs, as they thickened with muscle. She saw her fake nails fall off as she splayed her hands against the wall. They expanded and got larger, as the fingers expanded.

Hannah’s back was expanding and growing. Her entire frame broadened, as her muscles swelled. Her breasts firmed into pecs, as her stomach hardened into abs. Light dusting of brown chest hairs appeared on his pecs, as he just was in awe having this happen to him.

Hannah felt a strange stirring in his crotch, as he felt his new cock and balls form between his legs. His face changed and chiseled, as the pain suddenly seemed to cease, but Hannah let out a dark grunt, as he brushed his pec.

He got out of the shower, and let out a very deep and vapid “Wow” he looked at his face and immediately seemed mesmerized by his new features. Hannah was a pretty college girl but now. He was fucking stunning.

He just kept looking at himself and admiring his looks. And like all victims of this weird phenomenon he slowly succumbed to his new persona. Dean just smirked as he kept admiring himself. He smirked in the mirror and played around with his expression.

He had no idea where he was but he needed to get a pump in. He saw a discarded white tank and put it on and tried to get himself pumped. As the buff himbo left the bathroom, Hannah’s friends walk into the common room in shock seeing this chiseled guy coming out of the girls bathroom.

[pandj0ra]

© uvuyai 2024

ძᥲᥡ 1 ~ 𝐿𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑒 [EVENT]

Transfem! Furina x FEM! Reader

–genre. smut, nsfw,

–tw. girl cock, description of furina's cock, breeding, slight perv furina, sub x dom trope, overstimulation, MINORS DNI, creampie, riding, teasing, groping, reader is the same height as her, blow job, ooc furina, tit play, im sorry if you uncomfy with this,

–synopsis. Since Valentine's Day is around the corner, you called Furina in as you wanted to give her a good surprise. She wasn't expecting this.

Mari/yai's message – I've been thinking about an idea like this for a while.

Furina was patiently waiting on the duvet covered bed as you told her to meet her there. She had your favorite flowers, favorite chocolate, and a little teddy bear in her trembling hands. She could feel sweat dripping down her face and she barely could keep her excitement down.

Her foot tapped impatiently on the floor. She kind of spoiled half of the suprise for her. She asked if you got her something amongst chocolate or a teddy bear.

She heard a turning of a door knob come from the bathroom within the room

She turned her gaze towards the door, hoping it was you. And she was right. “A-ah, hey baby!” she waved at you with her eyes closed and a trembling smile. She opened her eyes to see you covered in a silky black (slightly) see through robe with fluff at the hem of it and at the end of the sleeves. Her face a really red by now. If you look closely, you can see her eyes turn into a black and white hypno circle but it didn't move.

You walked over to her with a blank expression lining your face.

You sat close to her, your thighs nearly touching. Both of her legs were trembling too much that it's visible to you now. You placed a hand on her thigh, sliding up and down with your index a ending up at her crotch.

A bulge began to rise on her shorts. A surprisingly big one. “I see you've gotten me something, hm?” you tilted you head and looked at Furina as she frantically looked somewhere else than your face. “Yes, y-yes. H-here!” she gulped and pushed the chocolate box with a brand on it(which were your favorite) towards, your favorite flowers, and a brown teddy bear. you carefully took them and placed them on the nightstand.

“I have that for you too Furi, but I have something extra to give” you places your index finger under her chin which made her immediately lock eye contact with you. “You are really quiet today Furi, what's wrong?” you showed sympathy but in a teasing way that made you voice a bit pitcher.

“Hm? Do you want this?” you dropped your robe to reveal a black lingerie set as if it was meant to be as a sleepwear. It had laced cloth around the bra part of it that it covered right above your thighs but it was see through.

Furina felt as if she was in heaven. She was slightly leaning back and her hands were grasping the covers with a harsh grip and if she had enough strength she could rip them off. “You want to touch me? Come on.” you opened your arms up to her. She quickly went into your arms, burying her burning face in your shoulder. Her bulge was poking at your thigh and it was

Her face was drenched in sweat. Her trembling hands reached down to your ass. You placed your arms around her neck, giving her a warming smile.

Furina noticed your breasts were slipping out of your top. She face planted herself between them which startled you. “Okay Furina calm down, now let me pamper you instead.” you pointed towards the bed(you both were standing fyi) and she obeyed.

You climbed on top of her, straddling her waist. “You should wear less clothing, Furi.” you slid your hand up and down her chest. Your hand went to her shorts, unhooking the button and pulling the zipper down. You slid her underwear down and her dick popped up.

It was an ocean blue color with dark blue line streaks leading up to her pelvis. It was a good tone to her skin. The tip was the same colors as the line streaks. A white bead of precum was at the slit of the tip.

You let out a heartly chuckle and moved down to where her cock was lining up your face. You placed your lips on the tip of her cock and slowly let it seep in until it reaches the back of your throat.

You bobbed your head up and down at a fast but simple pace. Furina clenched her teeth together as she grabbed strands of your hair.

You moved faster as you felt her dick pulsing in your mouth. She came with a loud whine and groan that anyone walking outside the door could hear. You felt thick ropes of cum hit the back of your throat. She was twitching too much now.

You climbed back on top of her to which she let out a gasp too. You slowly sank down onto her thick cock. You moved your panties to the side then sat in front of her dick so it was touching your pussy. It's been a while since you last did it before. Both of your faces were burning. Her moans were getting loud by the second. You closed your eyes as you gave into pleasure.

Whimpers and moans were stuck in Furina's throat. You moved at a simple pace as you bounced on her cock. You leaned your head back and placed your hands on Furina's knees(which were behind you).

Her dick was webbed in your juices. If it wasn't for your closed eyes, you would've seen hearts in her eyes bouncing. Your pussy was just so good for her, she wishes she could spend hours rather than doing her duties.

She wanted to take charge and make you moan louder. She rose up with her trembling arms and grabbed at your waist. Her nails dig into your waist so hard that it left crescent marks. You opened your eyes and looked at her with a startled gasp. Her left hand wrapped around your waist while her right hand took the straps of the bra off your shoulder, revealing your perky breast.

Beads of sweat dripped down your chest. She immediately latched onto your tits. The arm around your waist makes you bounce on her cock faster. She wanted to hear your moans louder now.

Her dick hit your cervix harder now. It's surprising that a short girl like her has a size like that. But hey, size doesn't matter.

“I-i'm gonna come–!” her breaths got harsher. And so as yours. You came on her dick as it sent volts of electricity run through your core. Thick ropes a milky white cum went flying in your insides.

You both were a panting mess as she fell back on the bed. You leaned down and unbuttoned her clothes, revealing her chest. She gasps as you look at her with lust.

“Let's go further Furi, it's Valentine's Day in fact~”

[jasminebythebay]

I've been staring at the Hearthian Models a lot and here are some notes

I've been staring at their models in the past few days for my art. The more I look at them the more details I discover haha. (Here is the link to the refs I've been looking at: https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/18Me-eKLK8WZiByvGE6UCo1D4PwmCZfCi?usp=share_link) Some things I've noticed:

Based on Esker's ear floppiness, they're actually much closer to the other Founders' ages than to Gneiss, Spinel, or Tektite's ages.

Hearthian eyes are really colorful :0. I thought Esker had pink eyes, they actually have PURPLE eyes (maybe Arkose as well, but it's hard to tell because their eyes are almost all pupil and no sclera). Moraine's eyes are orange, Hatchling's eyes are orange-yellow, Hal's eyes are yellow skewed towards green, Porphy and Gneiss both have pink eyes, but Porphy's eyes are a lighter pink than Gneiss's, Marl and Rutile's eyes are green, and Tuff's eyes are blue. Most hearthian eyes are yellow, but even then the shade of yellow varies.

(this is based on a height chart, i couldn't actually pull the models in a 3d program to view so idk how accurate this is) Esker is WAY shorter than I thought, literally the same height as the Hatchling

Speaking of height, Hornfels is the tallest Hearthian, followed by Slate, then Riebeck. Hornfels and Slate are over a head taller than the Hatchling, almost 2 heads taller than Gossan and Feldspar.

While Solanum is very tall compared to most Hearthians, she is about half a head shorter than Hornfels and Slate. The Prisoner, if we measure all the way to the tip of their antlers, is twice the height of the Hatchling. Even without the antlers, they are about 75% taller than the Hatchling. They are so big :0

All of the Hearthians wear leather boots. The only two exceptions are Mica, who wears what looks like sideways geta sandals, and the Hatchling, who wears SOCKS (WHY??? THE VILLAGE IS BUILT AROUND A GEYSER, HAS A WATERFALL, AND MULTIPLE SMALL CREEKS. THE GROUND IS GOING TO BE MUDDY AS HELL). The Hatchling does wear boots when in their space suit though.

The Hatchling is the only traveler that doesn't have an Outer Wilds patch sewn on their space suit (which makes me sad :( maybe it's because they're supposed to get their patch once they complete their first solo flight? they'll never have a chance to earn their patch....). Esker also doesn't have one, but it's likely because we never see them in their space suit.

Proportion-wise, Hearthians are generally top-heavy. While the exact proportion varies (ex: Hornfels and Slate have almost perfect 50-50 upper-lower body ratios while Riebeck's legs are only half the length of their torso), Hearthian legs are usually about the same length as their torso.

Because Hearthians are top-heavy, their arms are also longer than ours. Their hands fall right below the crotch (just like in humans). Their hands are also really big. Human hands are approximately the size of our faces (from chin to eyebrow) while Hearthian hands are the size of their entire skull.

The third finger of Hearthian hands is thicker than the other two fingers, and all of their fingers are thicker than our fingers. It makes it easy to draw because we can use our own hands as reference without having to squish the bones in our palms to match Hearthian hands haha

I'm sure most of us have noticed that Hearthians have unique patterning. Common patterns include spots and leopard spots. Gossan is unique in that their spots form stripes. The color and density of the spots varies as well. Most of the Hearthians tend to have spots along the sides of their skull, their upper face and ears, and the sides of their neck. Hornfels has almost no spots, just some spotting along their eyes, ears, and neck. Spinel has spots that resemble freckles that cover their entire face, ears, and forehead, but has almost no spots on their skull. Gossan is again unique in their patterning as their spots are along the front of the skull and back of their neck.

Every single Hearthian has a unique eye, mouth, and skull shape, which is an insane detail to add from an art direction perspective. Every Hearthian is already distinguishable from more obvious design choices, like height and clothes, so unique face shapes are entirely unnecessary, especially since most players will probably never talk to the other Hearthians more than once, much less remember what they look like beyond the travelers. Some Hearthians have narrow jaws while others have squarer jaws. Some Hearthians have droopy eyes while others are doe-eyed. Some Hearthians have an upward tilt to their lips while others have a downwards tilt. Some Hearthians have a long oval face while others have a square face. Some Hearthians have resting bitch face while others have an easy smile. This are details that only insane people who stare at the Hearthian models for hours find *coughs*

TLDR; The Hearthians have a lot of cool unique features but only insane people would go out to find them

[mayasaurusss]

There's no glory in a club

A/N: I'm never gonna see the pearly gates of heaven thanks to this.This is the most filthy thing iv'e ever written, u better like it. Contains: transfem Caitlyin, gn reader, blowjob, fucking like rabbits, gender neutral reader.

Caitlyn never thought that she'd find herself in one of Zaun's clubs on a friday night, getting her brains blown out in a bathroom stall.

She had been very stressed for a couple of weeks: the death of her mother, the weight of a city's future on her shoulders, the hatred that stains her relationship with her loved ones. Everything was just too much and she needed to get away from the world. While putting away her stuff for the day, she overhears a couple of enforcers, her subordinates, talking about a club in Zaun. The words they use left little to the imagination, but they intrigue her.

Later that same night she goes under, disguised in black tight clothes, wearing a hoodie that covers her blue hair and a mask on her mouth which changes her voice to a metallic one. The club is loud, colorful lights and sweaty bodies mixing together, cutting air off of her lungs. Some minutes pass by and she begins to feel blood flowing down to her crotch, warming her up. At the height of her crotch, her cock is pulsing to life, the outline hard and large.

Gathering the courage to walk over to the bathroom isn't easy but when she does, there is a circle-shaped hole ready for her. The wall is littered with filthy phrases, arrows pointing to the other side of the stall. With a heavy sigh, she slips her cock in, shame crippling up as a red hue of blush on her shoulders.

Just as she thought of retreating, leaving herself unsatisfied, someone walks over and opens the stall next to hers, silence following shortly after. How shameful! Is this really what the head of house Kirramann is doing on a friday night? Sticking her dick in places it shouldn't be? This isn't right; and she places her fingers at the base, ready to push herself inside her uncomfortable pants once more, when she feels the touch of fingertips on her tip. You, on the other hand, could not be more happy: this party is boring, and you really could use some fun.

You feel around the tip, smiling devilishly when the person in the other stall gasps, a metallic sound echoing inside the room. Their voice is muffled by something, but you can still hear the pure need dripping off of their voice. You move your hand up and down, taking pleasure in stopping when you think they're too overloaded, and watching as their cock bounces in the air. A bead of precum stains your fingertips and you make a show -or rather, let them hear- off of licking it off your fingers, moaning at its taste. Their heavy sigh and the thrusting of their hips against the wood surface is enough of a clue for you, and you resume; only this time you replace your fingers with your lips. The sound they make is enough to interchange briefly with their real voice, resuming once again the metallic tone a second later. You make sure to tease their tip, lavishing it in careful kisses and licks, letting it fall off your lips when you kiss it.

Caitlyn is trying, she really is, hard to contain herself. It's difficult, and the way you're now so generously treating her dick, licking from the base to the tip, is not helping. She lets out a loud moan when you cup her balls from the hole, just barely reaching.

You think you might've gone too far with those last touches, because the owner of the amazing cock you've got your lips glued on has now hurriedly left the hole, leaving you cold and mostly importantly, empty. But you quickly are proved wrong, when they appear again, only this time they pushed their balls inside, likely expecting more kisses from you. You do follow their desire, listening to their whines and moans as you work them up to their well deserved little death.

The warmth of your mouth is something Cait never thought that she would have ever felt. You're undoing her so good, so warm and wet, and she could stay here, getting her dick sucked off until the end of times. So when your sweet, sweet lips leave her cold and needy, suffice is to say that she's feeling slightly nervous. A heavy whine leaves her lips and to emphasize just how much she misses you, her crotch slams on her side of the wall, thrusting her red cock into your face. "Easy there" you say, and her eyes begin to get humid, tears of an unrelieved orgasm threatening to spill down. She retreats once again, furiously fisting herself. "Since you've been so good..." you turn around, pressing your backside into the wall, facing the open hole behind you, "...you deserve a reward, don't you think?".

Caitlyin was too focused on you calling her 'good' to notice the open, inviting hole in front of her. But when she does, every thought inside her mind shuts down, her brain becomes blank and the only thing that she can think of is to sink herself deep inside of you.

You can feel her cock spearing it's way inside, parting your folds and resting, hot and heavy. When you start to move, Caitlyin completely looses her ability to move and slumps over the wall, propping herself up on its edge, letting you move against her.

"You've just been...so good, haven't you?", no response. If they were so stubborn in not uttering a word, you were gonna pry their dignity and pride out of their hands. Their cock shudders and leaks pre inside of you, a trickle of it falling down on their skin. "Come on, come, please. Come inside of me" something inside of Caitlyn snaps and she begins to roughly shove her cock inside of you, spearing you on her length. She moves with force against the stall, shaking it with raw strength until you, with such sweet moans and whines, beg her to "Please, fuck me, cum in me, please" and you come undone on her, tightly grasping at her cock, pushing it in inside of you with each trust. Stars blossom behind her eyelids and finally, she cums, deep and long. An overwhelming pleasure takes her brain, her eyes rolling behind her eyelids as each of her shots fall inside of you, white hot cum nestled in your darkest corners.

Taking her cock out proves to be a more difficult task than she anticipated, long whines leaving you both as she finally leaves, her remains trickling down her and out of your hole. Caitlyin heaves, falling down on the toilet seat and grabbing her length with strength, trying to subdue the aftershocks of the best orgasm of her life. She doesn't notice the sound of steps exiting the stall and stopping right where she is. She's still heavily breathing when you slip a paper note in the space between the door and the floor. A set of numbers written in black ink stares at her, a promise of a next time. "When you feel like releasing some stress, call me, Miss Kirramman".

[hazbinwhoree]

We know how much of a tease Adam is which made me wonder

Angel reader being the butt of his short jokes but he's met with an interesting response

"Since I'm so short, put some inches in me then"

Inches

Adam was over a foot taller than (Name). His frame dwarfed hers in comparison. And Adam loved this.

He was constantly teasing (Name) for her height. Verbally or physically, using her head as an armrest, he was always on her ass.

“I have to kneel to talk to you face to face,” came Adam’s teasing.

Today, (Name) had had enough of it. “Since I’m so short, put some inches in me then.”

Adam stopped walking, smirk wiped clean off his face. “What?”

“You heard me.”

Adam cursed her in his head for saying something like that while they were out in public where he couldn’t ravage her. He turned on his heel and grabbed (Name) by the arm, dragging her with him. “Hey!” (Name) protested, struggling to keep up.

Adam reached down and threw (Name) over his shoulder. She shrieked and pounded on his back but Adam didn’t care, booking it home.

When (Name) realized why Adam was behaving the way he was, she went still. Then, without warning, she began to stroke his wings. Adam gasped, entire body stiffening.

“You little fucking tease,” he hissed, powering forward.

(Name) giggled, knowing she was in for it in the best way.

When they got home, Adam marched straight up to the bedroom, throwing (Name) down onto the bed. He rummaged around in his nightstand for a moment before he found what he was looking for. Rope.

(Name) tried to get away, but Adam overpowered her. He basically sat on her as he tied a wrist to the bedpost. With one wrist captured, the other was much easier, and it didn’t take long before (Name) was tied to the bed.

She squirmed, pulling on her binds and Adam crossed his arms. “I don’t know where you think you’re going,” he growled. “Fucking bitch, teasing me out in public like that. You knew exactly what you were doing.”

(Name) smirked.

“Oh, you think that’s funny? Let’s see if it’s still funny when I actually put some inches in you.”

Adam grabbed his pocket knife from the nightstand and cut off (Name)’s shirt since he couldn’t exactly pull it over her head.

“Hey,” (Name) whined. “I liked that shirt–” “Take your punishment like a good girl.” That shut her up fast.

Adam discarded the ruined fabric to tug down her sweatpants and panties. When (Name) was bare before him, Adam took off his mask and stood back to admire his work. Then, he left the room.

“Adam?” (Name) called.

Adam returned a moment later with the burger he hadn’t gotten a chance to eat at lunch.

“You’re not fucking serious.”

He took a massive bite. “Dead serious,” he said, muffled by the food in his mouth. He swallowed. “You teased me first.”

“So you tie me up naked while you eat a fucking burger?”

“Yup.”

God, (Name) hated him sometimes. She could do nothing but sit there, bound and naked, while Adam polished off his lunch. “You’re the worst, you know that?”

“Don’t hate the player for playing your game,” Adam retorted.

(Name) supposed she had started this.

When Adam finished eating, he took his sweet time, brushing his teeth, slowly beginning to undress. (Name) whined. “Adam,” she dragged out the “m”. Adam snickered. “Yeah, baby?” he teased. (Name) groaned, throwing her head back in exasperation.

Finally, finally, Adam finished undressing, and crawled onto the bed. (Name)’s legs shook in excitement. Adam smirked. “So needy.” “Shut up and put some inches in me,” (Name) demanded. Adam laughed. “You’re not in the position to be making demands, babe, but lucky you,” Adam crawled on top of her, pressing his erection against her crotch. “I actually want to do that.”

(Name) spread her legs wider. “Please,” she begged.

Adam finally took pity, grinding his dick against her wet core. (Name) moaned, relieved by some friction. She thrusts her hips up and Adam covered her mouth with his. His tongue invaded her mouth and he swallowed the desperate sounds she made.

His hands began to wander, trailing up her sides and leaving goosebumps in their wake. His hands found her breasts and he flicked his thumbs over (Name)’s perked nipples. She moaned, arching her back and pushing her chest further into his grasp.

Adam smirked. She was so sensitive.

He began to roll his hips, setting a steady pace of humping one another.

“Put it in,” (Name) whined. “You’re not in charge,” Adam replied. “You wanted this.” “Yeah, I wanted your dick, and you’re not giving it to me.” “Don’t play dumb.” Adam pinched her nipple and (Name) threw her head back.

“You want me to fuck you so bad it’s pathetic,” Adam snickered. (Name) groaned. “Beg for it and maybe I will.”

“Please, Adam, Dickmaster, whatever, please, please, please, fuck me.”

Adam hummed, reaching down between them to line himself up with her entrance. Then he sunk in slowly, stopping when just the tip was in. (Name) was losing her shit.

“Adam, come on!”

Adam pushed into her painfully slowly, taking a full minute to bottom out. When he did, they both sighed in relief, and Adam dropped his forehead against (Name)’s. He’d planned to tease her more, but now that he was inside her, his patience was wearing thin.

He gripped her hips, keeping them still as she tried to move. “Fuck me,” (Name) begged.

Adam finally began to move his hips, thrusting in and out at a slow and sensual pace that was driving (Name) crazy. But he couldn’t keep it up for long.

He grabbed her legs by the backs of her knees, pushing her knees up towards her chest, basically folding her in half.

With the new position and the new angle, Adam dropped all teasing and began desperately thrusting into her. “Fuck, you feel so good.”

(Name) moaned, holding onto the ropes that binded her wrists for dear life.

Adam’s pace was brutal, pulling out and slamming back in hard. “How does it feel to have those inches in you, hm?” Adam tried to keep his voice strong, but it was breathy with pleasure.

“Good, so good,” (Name) babbled. “You’re so good, Adam.”

The praise went straight to Adam’s dick, and he pounded into her harder, his grip on her legs tightening as he began to reach his peak. But he’d be damned if he didn’t make (Name) cum first.

She was close too, her walls tightening and constricting around him. Adam made sure to hit the same spot over and over, the spot that was making (Name) see stars. Her mouth hung open in slack pleasure.

“Adam,” her voice was high pitched. “That’s it, baby, cum on these inches.”

His words sent (Name) over the edge and she came with a gasp. Adam, satisfied, chased his own release, the sound of skin on skin reverberating around the room.

“Fuck, (Name),” he gasped before he came deep inside of her. He dropped her legs and (Name) gratefully stretched them out. Adam collapsed on top of her and briefly wondering why she wasn’t holding him until he remembered he’d tied her up.

Reluctantly, he pulled out of her to begin working on the knots around her wrists. When she was free, he kissed the irritated red skin of each wrist in apology.

Exhausted, he collapsed on the bed and pulled (Name) into him, draping his wing around her. She cuddled into his chest, still trying to steady her breathing.

“How was that for putting some inches in you?”

[yellowjestertfs]

Agents of Change

My submission to @occamstfs 2000 follower viral writing contest. A million congrats to @occamstfs for the achievement, and a million more thanks for the help in editing this story.

Not quite my usual story but pretty happy with how it turned out. Also make sure to check out the other amazing authors participating in this contest as well.

As an elite member of the Secret Service, Whitman was prepared for an endless number of threats. He could disarm an attacker in seconds, spot gunmen from a hundred feet away, even disable a bomb with one foot while blindfolded upside down. What he wasn’t prepared for was pretty boys.

"Sir,” Brella, the youngest and only woman in his detail, said, her voice raised slightly in alarm as she pointed out the five men heading toward them in the hall.

“I see them,” Whitman said, placing a hand on his taser and standing up to his full five ten of hight in an attempt to look intimidating. The men were not outright threatening; dressed in too small suits, they could easily be young aides or politicians, if not for the fact that they looked wrong.

Well, that is not exactly true; what really set Whitman off was the fact that they looked perfect—too perfect, like supermodels mixed with superheroes. It wasn’t that Washington didn't have its fair share of handsome fellas. Rather to the contrary, Whitman had known plenty of young senators or lobbyists who used their good looks as an advantage in their careers. None, however, looked like these men. 

They strode forward purposefully down the hallway, feet landing and lifting with perfect synchronicity.

Each of them was tall and broad, with strong muscular legs that bulged against their suit pants, although not quite as much as the bulges in their crotches. Their waists were trim and tight, tapering out to wide shoulders and strong arms. And then there were their faces. 

Though each differed in hairstyle and facial features, they all possessed the same quality to their face. Something about the cut of the jaw or the glint of the eyes made them undeniably linked. Beauty to the point of uncanny.

“Excuse me, sirs. This is a restricted zone; I am going to have to ask you to turn around.” Whitman called out, though the men were still at least 70 feet away. 

The horde of men continued to stride forward, though the one in the lead responded. In a polite but slightly monotone voice, “We are allowed to be here; we have a meeting with the president.” He said face, adopting a smile that didn't reach his eyes.

Whitman tightened his hand on his taser. He knew for a fact these pretty boys didn't have any such meeting scheduled. He found it strange and troubling that that excuse had gotten them this far. Confusing and deeply suspicious. “The president is busy right now. You really should stop walking and tell me how you got in here.” The men kept walking forward, now only thirty feet from Whitman, and his team, posed outside the president’s office. 

“Bret and Berry let us in.” The man said, invoking the name of the secret service agents who watched the door to the hallway. Hearing the names jogged something in Whitman’s head—a fact right in front of him he had somehow missed. He heard his second in command Santiago let out a gasp behind him as he reached a similar conclusion. Two of the men flanking the leader bore a striking resemblance to the agents, only with faces more handsome and bodies more muscular. It was as if those agents had been remade in the image of conventional beauty standard, smooth and unnaturally symmetrical. In addition Bret now had a short beard that suited his dark eyes. While Berry’s hair had been combed and bleached into a thick blond swoop, which complemented his square face, and each man had gained at least fifty pounds of muscle and half a foot in height. 

“Stop right there,” Whitman yelled, losing any semblance of politeness. By now, the men were only ten feet away. Whitman removed his taser from his holster and pointed it at the man in the lead. Behind him, his agents did the same. 

“I assure you we mean no harm. Put down your weapons.” The man in the lead said, his voice intelligent and charismatic but with a hint of something alien in his words. He took another step, and Whitman fired. 

Small metal wires sprung out, latching onto the suit of the man in the lead. The taser in his hand bucked as it sent wave after wave of electricity into the man's body. When he was in the army Whitman had been tased as part of his training. They were the worst five seconds of his life as his every cell was violently electrocuted and he convulsed on the floor. The man in the lead didn't break a stride, seeming more annoyed by the hole the gun left in his suit than the electricity. Whitman watched as Brella and Cameron fired their taser into two of the other men who had similarly lack of response. 

Santiago, seeing the ineffectualness of the weapon, brought out his gun and pointed it at the leader. Whitman always preached avoiding lethal harm as often as possible; but the rapid escalation of the situation surely called for it. In a blur, the man in the lead rushed forward. Whitman could only feel the air kicked up by him as he rushed past and grabbed Santiago’s wrist with one hand, shoved it and the gun upwards towards the ceiling. Cameron reached for his own gun, but Bret and Berry rushed forward to stop him while another man grabbed Brella from behind and put a hand over her mouth. Whitman found himself backing up, physically blocking the door to the Oval Office with his body as his agents were incapacitated before him. 

These men moved faster than humanly possible and were far stronger as well, but Whitman was not defenseless. The last unoccupied man lunged for him, but Whitman managed to sidestep right at the last second, causing the man to lose his balance. Whitman took advantage of this and grabbed him in a headlock, pulling his gun out, and placing it to the man's temple.

Brella screamed something, but the sound was muffled by the hand over her mouth. Santiago’s arm was still in the grasp of the man in the lead, but oddly enough he seemed not to be struggling, instead staring straight ahead at the ceiling with a glazed look. Even more strangely, Cameron now faced away from Whitman, locked in the tight embrace with the man who resembled Berry. Whitman’s eyes went wide as he realized the two were kissing. He was even more startled to realize that Bret was unbuttoning Cameron's white button-down shirt from behind, running his hands over Cameron's now bare lower back.

Whitman couldn’t understand what was happening. His brain, grounded so long in the mundane, couldn’t process the unexplainable happening occurring before his eyes. Santiago's wrist and hand were jerking. No, not jerking, shifting, growing larger, bone pushed outwards as skin tightened, veins slowly rose to the surface. His fingernails straightened into perfect uniform cuticles, and his knuckles became rough and bony and distinctly masculine. His once slender wrist thickened, while his forearm muscles swelled, pushing against the skin with newfound strength as more veins and dark brown hair sprang to the surface like rivers and trees. 

Whitman watched dumbly as the changes quickly grew past Santiago's elbow, onto his upper arm, which grew muscular and brawny, and eventually up to his shoulder, which widened and rounded with new muscle. 

Cameron, from his own embrace, let out low guttural noises of pleasure. He shifted, revealing the side of his face. It looked almost as if Cameron now had a birthmark around his lips. The skin had the skin was slightly darker and completely unblemished. The change spread from around his lips in all directions like a flame in a field. As it went, it changed not just his skin but the landscape of his face, tightening his jaw, nose growing slightly, cheeks becoming high and prominent, and all the while leaving numerous small light brown hairs on his chin and cheeks to form perfectly groomed stubble. His brows became thicker, forehead lost its wrinkles, eyes narrowed and turned a deep shade of green the color of rusty copper. 

As this happened, Bret managed to remove Cameron's suit jacket and shirt from his body. He wrapped his arms around Cameron's torso, rubbing his hands over Cameron's slight belly and hairy chest. Everywhere Bret touched changed rapidly, stomach giving way to tight abs with cut obliques. Bret placed his hands over both Cameron's nipples, and under his hands, pecs grew in for him to cup. His back also shifted as the changes spread, muscles tightening and skin became just as hairless and poreless as on his face. Cameron began to gyrate his hips back into Bret's groin as his moans became louder.

All of this happened in a matter of seconds. Brella was unaffected at least, as she continued to struggle against her attacker. “Stop whatever you're doing or he gets it.” Whitman barked, tightening his headlock on the man he had subdued and jamming his gun further into the man's head.

The one who had grabbed Santiago, the leader, turned to face Whitman. He dropped Santiago's wrist, which instantly fell to his side, slack. The alien changes had spread over his chest, down his torso, and into his other arm. Whitman watched as the changes crept up his neck, thickening as it grew a more prominent Adam's apple. Despite being free, Santiago stood there limply, gun clattering to the floor next to him. The leader took a step towards Whitman. The two men locked eyes. For a moment, he felt an understanding between him and the leader. This man was a killer bee, with drones at his command and yet also supremely dangerous in his own right. Whitman was a bear though, he would do anything to protect his charge, and he had a taste for honey.

The leader raised his hands in surrender, and Whitman smiled coldly. Then he felt a hand wrap around his bare ankle underneath his pant leg. Instant sensations overwhelmed him. Shock, lust, horror—his hormones became an unstable cocktail as sensations wracked his body. From the location of the touch, he felt a deep biting cold; the places where his captor’s fingers touched were suddenly plunged into an Antarctic snowbank. Whitman kicked his leg, breaking his captive’s grip on his leg, but the cold feeling remained. He tried to fire his gun, but his hands began to shake so violently that it dropped from his grip. He looked up and saw the leader had closed the distance to him in a second so that their faces were now inches away. Whitman thought he was going to kiss him as Barry had to Cameron. But instead, the leader whispered in Whitman's ear, so close that Whitman could smell the mint on his breath and feel the hot air on his cheek. “Stop fighting. Enjoy it. Soon we will be one.”

Whitman tried to say something, but only a croak came out. He fell to his knees, then fully to the floor as the burning cold spot on his ankle pulsed rhythmically. Whitman could only watch as the leader and the man who should have been his  captive walked over to Whitman's agents. The changes had fully spread across Santiago's face, giving him a handsome look somehow that shared the uncanny similarity to his attackers. Through his clothes, Whitman couldn’t tell how far the changes had reached on Santiago's lower body, but judging by the large bulge pushing out his pants in the front and the even larger butt pushing out from the back, they were spreading rapidly.

Cameron seemed even further along. His entire body and face were completely changed. He had become a brute of a man, with a tall hulking frame on trunks for legs, a creature of power. His face looked the same way; it shared the other's beauty but had a more square, simple cast to it that made him look halfway between a prince and a caveman. He no longer stared blankly at his head but sneered intimidatingly. He and the leader approached Brella, tying a rope around her arms and legs and putting a gag into her mouth. She looked desperately to Whitman or Santiago for help, but both were just as powerless as she was.

Whitman watched as Santiago’s foot expanded, toes growing and curling in his now too-small shoes. As the last part of his body changed, Santiago looked up from his trance and light returned to his eyes. Whitman tried to signal for him to grab the fallen gun, but instead, Santiago moved to stand by the leader's side. Now a group of seven, numbers bolstered by two of his own, the men walked past a helpless Whitman and into the door to the Oval Office that Whitman had failed in his mission to guard.

The changes spread down Whitman’s ankle into his foot and up to his knee. He found with alarm that he was unable to move those parts of his body, like they had been calcified in stone. With his arms he crawled forward gaining a view into the office. His discarded gun lay a few feet before him. He tried to crawl some more but found the activity becoming more and more taxing.

Inside the office, chaos had erupted. The four secret service agents Whitman had assigned to stay inside the office had heard the commotion outside and were ready with guns drawn. Even so, they were not fast enough. Four of the men, including Santiago, raced blindingly fast toward the men and incapacitated them in seconds; their touch began the changes on those agents that Whitman was currently experiencing. 

The Secretary of Agriculture, Packson Jackson, a little man who the president had been meeting with, tried to stop the intruders, physically placing his body in front of the president. Cameron stepped forward and lifted the man into the air with one hand as effortlessly as if he were a toy. Jackson flailed in Cameron’s grasp, feet kicking harmlessly into the air. Cameron brought his hand up to hover just above Jackson’s face. The meek man shied away, closing his eyes tight in anticipation. He opened his mouth to say something but was cut off as Cameron from above spit down into his mouth, then shoved his thumb between the secretary’s lips. Jackson looked horrified for a second, then a glazed appearance came over his eyes, and he began sucking furiously on the finger as his face started to transform from the inside out. 

Whitman struggled forward. The changes had spread up one leg into his hips and down the other. In the wake of the changes, Whitman's sturdy thigh had become a cut cascade of muscle, thick and hairy and made for pushing mountains instead of walking briskly down White House hallways. His hips spasmed uncontrollably as round mounds emerged to form a tight shelf on his butt, the movement forcing his dick into the ground repeatedly. His penis felt strange, growing erect, then warm, then pricked with hundreds of pleasurable tingles as his dick and balls swelled larger. The haze of sensations creating an overwhelming fogging on his brain became twinged by acute and powerful horniness. 

The president, watching his secret service taken out so easily, raised his hand in defeat. He addressed the leader of the group, who leaned against the doorframe casually.

“I surrender.” He said in his signature southern drawl, giving a disarming smile. “Whatever your grudge is, it's with me, not these people.” He gestured to the secret service agents in various phases of transformation. “Release them and you can kill me, I won’t fight.”

“Kill you?” The leader asked from the doorframe. His voice was deep and hypnotic, with that same twinge of distance from before as if he were detached from the events happening around him. He rushed forward in a blur so that he was only inches away from the president. To Whitman's relief, his hands stayed by his side. “I’m afraid you misunderstand, Mr. President, we are here to give you a gift.”

With herculean effort, Whitman stretched out his arm far enough for his fingers to brush against the handle of the fallen gun. By now the changes had overtaken his other leg and moved onto his torso, which slimed into sleek abs. His head was on fire, every neuron on full tilt; he could barely keep up with the events happening in front of him, and in the back of his mind, he felt something—a new presence knocking on his proverbial mental door.

The president looked down at the Secretary convulsing on the floor in front of him. Already the changes had elongated Packson body significantly and beefed up his slender frame with significant muscle. “I don’t want your gift.” He glanced at Whitman, struggling on the floor for a gun, and knew he needed to buy time. “Let's talk about what you want—money, power, favors. I can do all three if you release these innocent men.”

The leader seemed willing to take the bait. “I sometimes forget how petty and simple men can be.” He said it in a thoughtful retrospective manner, looking the president up and down from his head-higher of vantage. “We are not apes to be so easily swayed from our course by the carnal; we are oneness, brotherhood, fraternity, true revelation. You will soon understand”

Whitman's flailing hand seized the gun. The changes had reached his chest, which now hovered several inches off the ground on pillowy muscular pecs. His shoulders locked up as the changes reached them. As he took aim with the gun the changes continued down his arm, leaving a round bicep/tricep combo and locking his elbow in place. 

Something about the way the leader spoke, about the lofty collective tone. It felt dangerous, otherworldly, and distinctly familiar. The intruder in the back of his mind spoke similarly; it urged him to put down the gun and to join it in its mission of conversion, of domination. 

Whitman blocked it out. He felt the changes spread up his neck, up his jaw, and over his mouth, removing any power he might have had to make a sound. He felt a strange prickle on his face as a thick, well-groomed beard grew in. An exhalation from his straightening nose tickled his new mustache hair. As the changes passed his eyes, he could feel them start to physically alter his brain, making him more malleable and honing him for whatever purpose these changes, this being, meant for him.

Even stranger he felt a connection start to emerge in his consciousness to the other affected men in the room. He could feel their thoughts, their emotions, and their misgivings. 

The leader stepped forward to grab the president's bare flesh. The president flinched back. Whitman could feel the leader's thoughts through the new bond and knew he intended to grab with the right hand and lunge with his whole body. Whitman's wrist and palm were no longer his, fully transformed; it didn't matter. He still had his fingers and just enough of himself left to pull the trigger. 

The leader, or rather the entity inside the leader, felt Whitman's actions as he did them. He was fast, but the bullet was faster. In the split second the entity inside the leader made itself physical to infect the president with his touch Whitman shot. The bullet sailed right into its eldritch form, just between the leader's body and the president, and out the other side. 

The entity led out an ungodly, inhuman, nail on a chalkboard screech, and then it was gone. All around the destroyed office, men woke up as if from a dream, eyes fluttering rapidly and looking around at the carnage they had only passengers to. Cameron looked down at his gargantuan body with shock, while Jackson groaned and picked himself off the floor unsteadily, his body now a foot taller and 100 pounds heavier.

 From the hallway, Brella moaned through her gag. Santiago suddenly himself again, although now with a model's face and a bodybuilder frame, went to untie her sheepishly. Whitman lay on the floor, profoundly exhausted and overwhelmed. 

“Can I shake your hand?” A voice said from above him. Whitman looked up to see the president smiling down at him. That managed to rouse him, and he slowly got to his feet. Every part of his body, save the very tip of his middle fingers, had been transformed. His tailored suit now looked pathetically small on his thick muscular frame, and his face felt wider, more masculine, his jaw jutting outward strongly as if he could chew rocks like gum. He wasn’t sure what to make of it, of his body becoming this new foreign perfect thing. Whitman didn't know how he was going to even start explaining this to his husband or stepkids. 

Now however, he had other concerns. The president stuck out his hand for Whitman to shake, and god damn it if Whitman didn't deserve it. He clasped the other man's hand, meaty fingers, and palm enveloping the leader’s, and shook vigorously with the strength afforded by his new beefy arm. 

The president gave a brief look of shock, and Whitman feared he didn't yet know his own strength. Then he felt something strange. The president's grip tightened, and his fingers started to move in the handshake; no, they started to grow, his hand becoming just as meaty and masculine as Whitman now was. 

The president dropped the handshake and raised his hand to his face, admiring the now smooth tan hand, powerful and devoid of any wrinkles. Both men waited for the changes to spread down his wrist or for the president's eyes to glaze over, but nothing happened. 

“I am so sorry, Mr. President. I will submit myself to quarantine immediately.”

“Oh, hush.” The president said, waving his new hand dismissively. He flexed it appreciatively, admiring the strength and lack of wrinkles “I think this could help me quite a bit in New Hampshire.” He unbuttoned the sleeves of his shirt and rolled it up to reveal his forearm. “Do the rest of me, then I will get you in touch with the generals.”