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pin-k-ink · 6 months ago

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kinda common request but ushijima with a size kink 👀

lusus // ushijima wakatoshi

tw ⇢ size difference, size kink, belly bulge, cumflation, mentions of pregnancy and marriage, a couple of clit slaps, teasing, pet names, “just the tip”, creampie, nipple play, unprotected sex, breeding kink

wc ⇢ 6.5k

a/n: i got a bit carried away… :(

It started as an idle observation - one Ushijima couldn't quite pinpoint the origins of amidst the endless cycle of practices, drills, and critical preparations filling his laser-focused mind. But gradually, possibility after innocent possibility arose where he found his sharp eyes catching on the sheer... daintiness of the team's new manager.

The first instance blazed into sudden, startling existence one afternoon as you attempted to ascend the rickety ladder for hanging the championship banners. Engrossed in charting out a fresh tactical overhaul with the coaches, Ushijima only registered your presence in his periphery as a flicker of movement.

Then came the tell-tale wobble of unsteady footfalls on the rungs, followed by a muffled yelp that managed to penetrate even his intense concentration. Before conscious thought could engage strategy, Ushijima was already in motion.

In what seemed like a single, supernaturally fluid heartbeat, his powerful strides had covered the short distance just as the ladder began tipping treacherously from beneath your feet. Another eyelash-blink later, and Ushijima's forearm banded like an iron bar around your trim waist - halting your stomach-dropping plummet with shocking ease.

But just as swiftly as your unconscious peril arose, it was snuffed out again by Ushijima's unhesitating intervention. That smooth-as-oiled-silk response was merely the product of endless repetitions and drilled conditioning honed to surgical sharpness.

What stole the breath from Ushijima's very lungs like a physical force was the sudden, bewildering intimacy of having your curves pressed flush against his chest in that follow-through motion. The way your back arched subtly against his solid wall of support as he cradled your astonishingly delicate frame against the immovable force of his body with negligible effort.

Even through the layered fabrics separating you, Ushijima swore he could feel every pliant inch of your modest silhouette molding against his ongoing inhale. Like liquid sin itself taking hypnotic shape and tempting form against the hardened steel of his physique.

It was such a disconcerting realization in that breathless moment that his brain lagged several precious pulses in catching up with the new data input overload. When Ushijima finally registered the quiet pants of shocked exhales ghosting warmly over the juncture of his throat, the sensory input proved as disarming as a physical blow.

The molten rasp of your breaths so unnervingly close... the plush press of your feminine curves all but swallowed up in the circle of his arms... the dizzying spiral of flowery shampoo and understated perfumes swirling between your two forms in a scent as unmistakably alluring as it was forbidden for the hyper-focused ace to dwell on...

With a ragged exhale, Ushijima abruptly disentangled you both by depositing your feet squarely back onto stable ground and swiftly disengaging contact. Though not before his senses insisted on greedily imprinting every nuance of your shared gravity - from the startled flutter of your lashes against flushed cheekbones, to the pleasing heft and hint of curvature fitting so unexpectedly neatly into his protective embrace.

As soon as the supporting rungs regained their burdened, you'd instinctively straightened with some reflexive murmur about being more careful in the future. But when your luminous gaze finally turned up to meet Ushijima's inscrutable stare, the words seemed to stutter and die on your lips.

For a suspended, molten pause, all the ace could comprehend was the sudden direct line of intimate access now open between you. The way your features were angled up towards him in the wake of that near-debacle, practically commanding his hyper-attuned focus lower...lower...to the utterly disarming swell of your parted lips that Ushijima swore he could nearly taste the breath-warmed fullness of despite no move being made.

It was such an unforgivable lapse of iron focus that in the next instant, Ushijima felt like he'd been doused in the coldest shower imaginable. A violent, full-body rejection of the distracting detour those inappropriate contemplations had nearly started meandering down.

That innocuous moment of dizzying intimacy seemed to awaken something deeply primal within Ushijima's consciousness - an insistent awareness that refused to fade back into ignorant complacency no matter how fervently he attempted to re-immerse in his usual flow of strategies and repetitions.

Everywhere he turned, his heightened attentions now persistently snagged on the same unavoidable observation: just how deceptively tiny and delicate your stature managed to be in direct contrast to his own honed, unyielding physicality.

During grueling practice sessions when the squad formed shoulder-to-shoulder for breaking down gameplay footage, Ushijima couldn't prevent his focus from repeatedly drifting to where you stood off to the side. The way the top of your head barely crested the center of his carved pectorals always delivered a strange molten punch to his gut - awakening unbidden flashes of you tucked securely against that very expanse of muscle mere days prior.

He found his stare lingering overlong on the gentle swell of your throat whenever you leaned in to inspect the tactical court maps unfurled across the staging tables before him. The delicate tendons shifting beneath satiny skin as you swallowed or angled your features in consternation would transfix Ushijima utterly. All he could envision was the scorching brand of his palm spanning that tantalizing column in a possessive caress as he angled your jaw higher to...

The inappropriate trail of thought would initiate a violent sub-routine reboot before it could bloat into something more disturbingly indecent. Ushijima's hands would unconsciously curl into white-knuckled fists at his sides as he forcibly rerouted higher brain function back to the neutral gameplans and optimizations spread before him.

But the struggle to maintain iron discipline only worsened from there as the days marched onwards. Like a riptide pummeling away at his steadfast restraint with each new swell, every innocuous reminder of your distractingly dainty proportions seemed to carve away another chunk of his control.

The mortifying afternoon Ushijima's broad shoulders and over-dense muscle mass saw him catching the spray of an entire water cooler you'd accidentally upended while attempting to carry the ungainly vessel. He hadn't registered more than a vague impression of your strained efforts across the gym before liquid splashed in a wide fan - drenching you from the crown of your head down to the tips of those petite, adorably flexed toes peeking from your sensible flats.

In the span of two lightning inhalations, Ushijima had closed the distance between you in a sinewy viper-strike of potent urgency. His hands - calloused, powerful, and larger than any person's had a right to be - spanned the width of your upper arms in an utterly dwarfing cradle as he instinctively inspected every inch for harm or hurt.

But there was no chance for actual injury of course, only your frozen astonishment and the way every fiber of Ushijima's existence zeroed in on that sudden soaked intimacy with frightening intensity. The cloying scent of your damp locks and the cool moisture beading along the plush pout of your lips in that breathless second redirected every one of his faculties with terrifying singularity.

He was mesmerized by the tiny rivulets of transparency skating across the high, delicate planes of your blushing cheekbones and down the tantalizing silk of your throat. So transfixed by the display of such naked fragility and untapped softness that the world beyond your shared gravities simply ceased to exist for one dizzying eternity...

Until eventually, you emitted the smallest, most temptingly breathy noise of surprise that managed to jar Ushijima from his reverie hard enough to wrench back to reality. Back to harsh fluorescents and squeaking sneakers and ambient shouts of exertion from his teammates resuming undisturbed drills. All the elements of the gym's familiar, safe equilibrium which starkly juxtaposed the darkly decadent awareness now swiftly metastasizing in his conscious thoughts.

Without preamble, Ushijima withdrew from your molten orbit as swiftly as he'd intervened - retracting those dangerously possessive hands before they could map out any more forbidden terrain or shape sin itself around your slender, soaked silhouette. An unforgivable indulgence the calculated, hyper-disciplined ace simply could not permit.

Or at least, so he had desperately resolved to convince himself in that moment of roiling weakness. Even as those traitorous eyes of his drank in one final, searing glimpse at the damp fabric now semi-translucent against the generous swell of your chest, straining invitingly over every tantalizing hint of feminine curvature concealed just beneath that teasing veil...

Encounters like that only seemed to escalate in both frequency and molten potency as the weeks drifted onwards. Until eventually Ushijima realized the gut-punched awareness plaguing his every waking moment was not some freak intermittence to be powered through with sheer determination, but a persistent condition demanding far more creative counterattacks.

Merely avoiding direct proximity to your daintiness proved an exercise in abject failure when the rest of the team apparently relished any opportunity to loudly emphasize the stark contrasts in your respective statures. As if the very sight of Ushijima's broad-shouldered bulk looming effortlessly over your petite figure acted as flashing neon bait to the resident school of minnows always nipping at his heels.

"Hey y/n! Get over here and compare hand sizes with Ushiwaka for the squad contest!" Tendou's vocals pierced the din of one post-practice cooldown with all the subtlety of a backfiring jet engine.

Ushijima felt his spine go ridgidly upright at the grating tones, shoulders unconsciously squaring off as he braced for the juvenile antics sure to fol--

"Yeah, find out if the great Ushiwaka's hands are truly the most gigantic mitts on the team, little lady!"

You obediently trotted over with an exasperated roll of your eyes, already offering up one slender wrist in resigned acceptance of whatever crass "competition" the randier hooligans had concocted during Ushijima's rare mental lapse into the indecent reveries swiftly spiraling out of control.

Before either of your startled regards could register, Tendou eagerly snatched at your proffered appendage and wrenched it upward in a comparative display beside Ushijima's own outstretched palm and fingers. The contrast in size made the breath stutter harsh and molten in the ace spiker's lungs.

Your soft, tapered digits barely spanned from the pointed tip of Ushiwaka's calloused thumb to the first knuckle at the base. Like comparing a child's plaything to the implacable, sinuous strength of a well-oiled machine purposely engineered for delivering controlled devastation. It abruptly felt utterly unconscionable for the two examples to be juxtaposed so overtly.

"Well I'll be damned..." Semi drawled somewhere from the peanut gallery, voice heavy with meaning. "Our little homeroom angelcake has Thumbelina hands after all!"

A few raucous hoots and whistles greeted that filthy observation, no doubt aimed at further fanning the flames of Ushijima's suddenly tenuous restraint. His free hand curled into an unconscious white-knuckled fist at his side as raw, unfettered possession roared to vivid life in his veins like an insidious poison.

The primal urge to snatch your tiny wrist free from Tendou's irreverent grip and reclaim your delicateness into the protective circle of his embrace grew increasingly maddening with every rasping inhale. To erase every set of degenerate eyes currently devouring the soft vulnerability of your feminine composition with their sordid regards from existence entirely. All while drowning in the molten awareness of how utterly and effortlessly your fragility fit beneath his dominion.

Only your smooth, infinitesimal squirm of apparent discomfort broke through the toxic spiral starting to cloud Ushijima's enraged senses in ruby shades of sin. His stare snapped to your features instantly, honing in on the way your cheeks had gone ruddy pink, your generous lips pressed into a flat line of perturbed propriety.

Meeting those wide, reproachful eyes - so innocent yet utterly unguarded in their honest chastisement - acted like a bucket of arctic water over the flames engulfing Ushijima's possessive urges. You didn't deserve to be subjected to the darker facets of awareness cresting inside the Ace's subconscious, he rebuked himself harshly. The quiet dignity and warm support constantly exuded by your graceful presence within their team dynamic far outstripped any sordid justifications brewing within his own repressed psyche.

Heavy footfalls crunched in the stale auditorium hush surrounding the gym as Ushijima turned on his heel to stalk mindfully away from further temptation. He couldn't trust his mental fortitude around you anymore, not with these unaccountable lapses into devouring indecency plaguing his iron restraint.

At least, not until the reckless firestorm of primal hunger silently raging in his core had been expertly doused and redirected once more into something resembling their usual polished professionalism.

Behind him, the continued jeering whoops and whistles dissolved into background static, tuned out utterly in favor of his silent, singular mission to wrestle his runaway restraint back into immovable discipline before it was too late...

The fever pitch of Ushijima's smoldering awareness continued spiraling to dizzying new nadirs with every subsequent team outing. As if some unspoken cosmic force seemed hellbent on testing the superhuman restraint of even the most stoic and unshakeable ace with a relentless barrage of fresh intimacies.

The yearly athletics festival proved to be a particular gauntlet of temptation in that regard. Your petite stature made navigating the rowdy crush of bodies lining the parade route essentially impossible without getting hopelessly turned around or even inadvertently trampled amidst the chaos.

Which was how Ushijima found himself glancing over at one point, only to feel a molten punch of concern twist his gut at the tableau laid out before him. There you stood, straining up onto your tiptoes in a fruitless attempt to glimpse whatever activity currently held the crowd's raucous attentions in thrall from your disadvantaged sightlines.

One broad sweep of his discerning gaze rapidly took in the squirming press of torsos and rippling sea of elevated arms boxing you into a near-suffocating pocket of confusion and mild panic. Your features pinched with that unmistakable look of overwhelmed dismay Ushijima was swiftly coming to recognize as a siren's call demanding his undivided intercession - propriety and personal restraint be damned.

Without preamble, his powerful strides easily ate up the short distance separating you as he shouldered his way through the rowdy crowd with unhesitating force. A few surprised yelps and grunts of displeasure met the wake of his passage. But Ushijima paid them no heed whatsoever, already caught up in the scorching undertow of his singular mission.

No words were exchanged, no by-your-leaves requested or offered as he coasted to an abrupt halt before your petite silhouette. You didn't even have a chance to register his sudden, looming proximity before Ushijima had already stooped into an effortless crouch and banded one heavy arm behind the pliant give of your knees.

The other swept out to catch the surprised bend of your lower back in a fluid, steely arc - essentially scooping your entire diminutive frame up into the air with all the ease and negligible effort most would exert when retrieving a magazine from the coffee table before them.

A soft, startled noise punched its way past your parted lips at the abrupt relocation. But before any reflexive protests could surface, Ushijima had already straightened back up to his towering full height with you easily cradled in the protective circle of his arms.

From this elevated vantage just beneath his squared jawline, you couldn't begin to even see over the tops of his powerful shoulders -- much less rejoin the rest of the team amidst the crowds. Ushijima's broad, marble-carved features stared inscrutably down at you through those perpetually shadowed lenses as a lush wash of heat flooded your cheeks.

In that suspended heartbeat of molten connection sizzling between you, the Ace spiker permitted himself the indecency of simply...savoring the moment stolen away against all propriety or restraint. Of drinking in the ephemeral impression of having your waifish curves and feather-light composition utterly subsumed within his protective embrace with utterly zero effort extended.

He allowed his larger-than-life palms to map out the delicious give of your lower back and hamstrings in one unhurried, possessive caress. Was mesmerized by the tiny, delicate bones of your wrist and the swell of tendons shifting beneath fragile skin as you instinctively curled your fingers over the carved geometry of his clavicle to steady your ascent.

There was simply no denying the rapturous delight thrumming through Ushijima's every tendon at how unimaginably minuscule you felt gathered against the solid wall of his torso like this. How confidently, how naturally your slight form seemed to melt into the cradle of his broad arms and chest as though every inch of whittled musculature had been divinely sculpted with this exact indecent cradling in mind--

With a harsh inhalation lancing through his nostrils like dragonsmoke, Ushijima abruptly resumed his sinewy strides forward once more - jaw clenching on a punishing grind as he ruthlessly smothered that wildfire of wanton fantasies before they could truly ignite. He refused to allow himself to be so thoroughly unmade and derailed by your doe-eyed prettiness again and again...no matter how transcendentally perfect your fragility felt molded against his immovable dominion in reality.

No. He was the consummate discipline in humanoid form, the very avatar of hyper-focused intensity and restraint. He would not be reduced to some dribbling, base cretin rendered incoherent by the fleeting impressions of tenderness and possession currently drug-hazing his senses.

Or at least, that's what Ushijima fervently told himself with every subsequent footfall resonating between you. Even as your quiet, self-conscious giggle of amusement suddenly wafted up on a humid zephyr - close enough that he could taste the sweetness of your breath on his tongue.

And close enough to rip the foundations out from beneath his fragile reasonings once again...

Ushijima really should have known better by now than to allow any scenarios where prolonged proximity to you proved unavoidable. And yet, time after time he seemed to stumble into these charged intimacies through sheer happenstance or unthinking habit.

Like the afternoon you'd both ended up seated side-by-side reviewing fresh game footage, with the rest of the team circled loosely around the solitary monitor on offer. It had seemed innocuous at first - nothing Ushijima hadn't experienced a thousand times before amid the endless cycle of preparations and chalk-talk sessions.

But the moment you shifted slightly closer, brushing your shoulder companionably against his in the tight confines, everything abruptly snapped into hyper-focused clarity once more. Ushijima became excruciatingly aware of even the most infinitesimal details radiating off your modest frame in dizzying waves.

The delicious floral bouquet of your shampoo and subtle perfume swirling between you in one intoxicating melange. The silken friction of your skirt whispering against his thigh with every minute readjustment. Even the warm puffs of your quiet breathing seemed to skate tantalizingly down the side of his throat in a searing caress he couldn't shake.

It was like being unwillingly submerged in an ocean of scintillating distractions and forbidden temptations, all designed to lash against the rickety moorings of Ushijima's restraint. He grit his molars hard enough for his jaw to creak in protest, determined not to allow himself to drown in those swirling indulgences again so easily.

Until the moment you made an abortive move to rise from the enveloping couch cushions - no doubt intending to step out briefly during a lull in the tactical breakdown occurring.

Before any rational thought could properly engage, Ushijima's hand was already lashing out in a reflexive, steely arc to halt your departure. Those same powerful fingers and sinuous tendons he relied upon to bludgeon spiker after spiker across the net wrapped like an immovable vise around your upper thigh with zero difficulty.

The jolt of heated realization that slammed into him was as disorienting as a physical blow. Ushijima froze utterly at the dizzying impression of his palm and splayed fingers spanning nearly the entire circumference of your thigh with space to spare. Of how easily that compact muscle strained and flexed beneath his grasp - as though every individual tendon comprising your modest curves had been purposefully scaled down to entice maximum inspiration from proportionally oversized grips like his own.

You'd startled at the unexpected contact just as thoroughly, pink lips parting to release some muffled noise or breathy exclamation of surprise. But all of Ushijima's strained focus abruptly hemorrhaged elsewhere in the wake of that heated touch.

All he could process was the rapturous give of your soft skin pulsing like molten silk against his calloused fingertips as you instinctively pressed back into the solid cradle of the sofa. The fine vee of your pelvis canting subtly against his knuckles in a sleek, powerful motion somehow throbbingly evocative of wholly indecent undulations and surrender.

An incendiary tidal-wave of wanton fantasy detonated behind Ushijima's eyes without preamble. Of ruthlessly leveraging his disproportionate physicality to seize every inch of your pliant, untapped softness in an iron grip and wringing out plaintive whimpers with each filthy glide of supplication...

Only your startled squirm and the faintly bewildered look now creasing those delicate features managed to pierce the scarlet haze building to criticality in Ushijima's skullfornace. Those too-large fists of his slowly unclenched from their vice with what felt like herculean effort -- leaving a burning imprint of possession seared into his flesh where unforgivable temptation had blossomed in the blink of an eye.

"Ushijima-san?" you queried hesitantly, no doubt picking up on the sharp disquiet simmering beneath his stoicism like corrupted code refracting beneath a still surface.

He didn't dare meet your gaze fully, instead making a Herculean effort to refocus on the tactical video still playing across the monitor before you both with hypnotic regularity. Perhaps if he immersed himself in those safe, sterile patterns once more, the more primal spirals of desire trying to pull him under again could finally be filtered ou—

"I'm just going to get some air," Ushijima growled before you could probe his sudden storm front further. He was on his feet before the words had even finished rasping past his lips, strides already eating up distance from your molten gravities in an urgent retreat.

The confused furrow pinching your brow as you watched his abrupt departure didn't even register to Ushijima. He was already compiling fresh deterrent subroutines in a frantic bid to wrangle back control of the rising inferno intent on consuming him from within over any further innocuous intimacies.

The dam finally burst during one of their routine evenings reviewing overhead camera footage from practice drills in Ushijima's private quarters. What should have been a perfectly sterile, professional exercise in optimizing spike angles and read progressions rapidly snowballed into something far more insidious.

Perhaps it was the dimness of the solitary desk lamp casting intimate shadows across your features as you leaned over the scattered topography of notes and stills spread before you. Or the way you'd automatically settled onto the edge of Ushijima's bed for lack of a second chair, creating a molten tableau of softness amidst his spartan sleeping arrangements that screamed of sin in the flickering half-light.

Whatever the catalyst, all it took was a single absentminded brush of your bare calf skimming up against Ushijima's as you shifted your weight - and every last vestige of restraint he'd been desperately grappling to maintain went nuclear in an eyeblink of culpability.

The live-wire frisson of that ephemeral contact jolted straight down to his very foundations like a lightning strike forking the sky. Before his conscious mind could fully grasp what was happening, Ushijima had already reacted on searing instinct honed across endless hours of emergency reads and scenarios.

In one blurring inhalation, his hand whipped out to lock around the flexing swell of your knee in an inescapable vise. With the other fist riveted into the mattress behind your hip, he effortlessly leveraged that staggering differential in strength to swivel your entire frame flush against his own coiled undulations before you could strangle out more than a whimper of surprise.

The rapturous juxtaposition of having your supple, dainty softness suddenly splayed out so nakedly within the cradle of his indomitable physicality very nearly punched every stray volt of higher reasoning from Ushijima's razored focus in a single shattering detonation. Finally, FINALLY, you were pressed so exquisitely into the scorching brand of him with zero boundaries or illusions of propriety separating you.

His senses veritably whited out beneath the molten lash of that merciless sensory overload as your heady bouquet, your delicate warmth, the whisper-slick friction of your cotton shorts clinging to the flexing sinew of his quads all slammed home in a rapturous deluge. For one endless, shuddering inhale, the primal immensity of having your frail, coveted prize conquered within his dominion rendered Ushijima utterly unmade.

Only one other base compulsion seemed capable of piercing that blinding nova scorching away the last vestiges of lucidity between you. With a harsh growl that seemed to emanate from the very dregs of his subconscious, Ushijima surged forward - simultaneously dragging your pliant form further into the cruel vanquishing of his embrace as he sealed his lips over yours in a branding conflagration of possession.

Any muffled whimpers of surprise or protests were instantly swallowed up and reduced to mere background white-noise in the wake of that indecent detonation. You instinctively melted and writhed, alternating between fitful struggles and the boneless surrender of prey before an apex predator's unhesitating advance as Ushijima's mouth plundered yours with nearly animalistic intensity.

Every hot exhalation stuttering from your gasping lips was instantly consumed and made air by the harsh rake of his next growling inhale. Lush whimpers transmuted to molten keens as his calloused palms mapped out every untapped inch of softness and burgeoning curve with searing brands of marking possession.

The taste of you on his tongue rapidly became the single point of obsession anchoring Ushijima's restraint to reality. Cloying floral and hints of something sweeter--the remnants of candy you'd treated yourself to earlier that day no doubt. The knowledge that he was finally savoring the true essence of your temptation after being starved of it for so long only served to inflame his primal desperation to experience everything all at once.

His iron-wrought frame visibly shuddered and heaved with each fresh glut of restraint rapidly ceding ground before that onslaught of unleashed lust. Everywhere his grasping hands ventured, electric ribbons of molten desire seemed to trail in their wake - intent on bathing you in the scorching, centered totality of pleasures Ushijima so rarely ever permitted himself to indulge at all.

Before that towering obsession could well and truly drown you beneath roiling tidal waves of sin, a final gossamer filament of conscience finally managed to penetrate the eruption enough for Ushijima to tear his lips free with a hoarse, bestial snarl of exquisite torment.

"You...have no idea..." he rasped in a slaughtering graveled baritone drenched in consumed want yet still somehow begging for Purchase. For you to meet him in the raging inferno of abandon he'd prepared to burn for. "What you do to me, little one..."

A desperate noise punched its way free from the back of your throat at those words - as if voicing the very same primal understanding now thrashing at your core as well. You were suddenly everywhere at once, pliant and heated and utterly unraveled, panting hot entreaties against the fury of Ushijima's next merciless inhale.

"W-what do I do, Wakatoshi?"

A harsh groan rattled loose from somewhere deep inside the ace spiker's chest cavity at those words. At the sheer, audacity of them. The brazen invitation they implied.

It was a question he couldn't possibly answer in any rational capacity. A question that demanded total and utter subjugation in the face of its overwhelming implications.

And one which Ushijima could no longer refuse.

With a vicious exhale, his broad, calloused palms slid to cup the generous curve of your rear in a claiming caress. Without pause, Ushijima dragged you upwards against his rippling torso, angling your head and lips back against his with an unhurried, deliberate savagery.

This kiss was different from the others. Gone was the frenetic pace and wild abandon of your initial collision. Now, his mouth moved over yours with a languid, unrepentant thoroughness - mapping out every seam and crease of plush compliance with the implacable, measured focus he normally reserved for the court.

A breathy keen vibrated from the center of your throat, and Ushijima seized the opportunity to delve deeper with a sinuous twist of his tongue, claiming the wet warmth of your mouth for his own once more. His large fingers dug into the pliant swell of your rear, kneading and spreading the supple globes apart until he could feel the wet heat radiating off your pussy soaking through the thin fabric of your shorts against his straining arousal.

A groan tore loose from Ushijima's chest, raw and needy, as he began rocking his hips in slow, deliberate circles, grinding his clothed cock into the slickness gathering between your thighs. The feel of your cunt pulsing against his length was like a match striking a dry forest. He couldn't remember a time in his life when he'd been so hard. So fucking desperate.

But the way your arms locked around his neck and your slim legs hooked around his waist as he continued rolling his hips sent an avalanche of need roaring through him. It wasn't enough. Not nearly enough. He wanted you spread and bared, wanton and desperate beneath him.

"On your back, little one," he growled against the damp swell of your bottom lip.

The way your pupils dilated and your eyes darkened at the order was so damn sexy. The way you scrambled to obey was even sexier.

Without releasing his grip, Ushijima lowered himself atop you, careful not to let the full weight of his bulk rest upon you. He was a big man. Too big to risk crushing your smaller frame beneath his.

He would have to find other ways to keep you pinned beneath him.

With the tip of his index finger, he traced a path down the silky column of your neck, over your collarbone, and across the slope of your chest, watching as your nipples pebbled and hardened under his feather-light touch. He paused for a moment, admiring the view, and then he slid his finger down to the hem of your shirt.

He lifted his eyes to yours. "Arms above your head."

Your eyelids fluttered as you lifted your arms over your head, your breath coming in short bursts, and then you complied.

Ushijima pulled your shirt off, tossing it somewhere behind him. He didn't bother unhooking your bra. Instead, he shoved it up, baring your tits to his hungry gaze.

He dipped his head, capturing a nipple between his lips and sucking it into his mouth, while his hand cupped the soft swell of the other. A low, breathy moan echoed from the back of your throat as you squirmed beneath him, and he couldn't suppress a groan. Your taste was better than he'd imagined.

His teeth scraped over the sensitive peak, and a whimper bubbled from the back of your throat. You arched your back, pushing your breasts further into his mouth and hands, and he released the nipple with a wet pop, lifting his head and giving you a stern look.

"No moving. I'll tie you down if I have to."

The thought of tying you up sent another rush of blood to his already throbbing dick, but now wasn't the time. He could tie you up and torture you later, when he'd had a chance to go to the store and pick out some pretty restraints and maybe a vibrator.

Instead, he returned his attention to the task at hand, his thumb stroking over your hardened nipple while his lips descended upon the other. You gasped, writhing beneath him, and he nipped the delicate flesh with his teeth, eliciting a squeak.

"Be a good girl," he murmured. "Stay still for me."

And then, without waiting for an answer, he returned his mouth to your tits, licking and sucking, biting and pinching until the peaks were red and swollen, and you were a shivering mess beneath him.

By the time he finally lifted his head, the crotch of his shorts was soaked, and he could feel your own slickness soaking through the thin material of your panties.

He slid a hand between your bodies, tracing the outline of your folds through the soaked fabric. You moaned, arching your hips, and he gave a sharp smack to your thigh.

"Don't move," he ordered.

He hooked a finger under the hem, tugging it to the side, and his cock twitched at the sight of your glistening pussy. His mouth watered at the prospect of tasting you, but his own arousal was quickly becoming a problem. His erection was straining painfully against the fly of his shorts, and he was dangerously close to coming just from the friction of the fabric rubbing against him.

He tugged your underwear the rest of the way off, and you shivered as the cool air of the room washed over your heated flesh.

"Cold, baby?" he murmured, and you nodded.

"We'll fix that soon enough," he promised.

He pulled his own shirt off and tossed it aside. He didn't bother to unfasten his shorts, just unzipped them and pushed them and his boxers down enough to release his cock.

His balls tightened as his shaft sprang free, bobbing heavily between his thighs. He wrapped his fist around his shaft, pumping it slowly. He didn't need much stimulation. Just seeing you sprawled out before him, naked and wet, was enough to get him there.

He shuffled a bit closer and rested his heavy cock on the soft skin of your abdomen, hissing as the head of his cock rubbed against the smooth plane of your stomach. He couldn��t believe how tiny you were. How his cock could cover your entire stomach. How the tip of it almost reached your sternum.

He groaned, pumping his cock a few more times before lifting it and sliding the length between the wet lips of your pussy. You gasped as his cock glided over your clit, and he repeated the motion, enjoying the way you moaned and writhed.

"Look at you, taking my cock so well," he breathed, watching as his shaft slipped and slid over your clit.

You whimpered, and he increased his pace, rocking his hips and fucking his length between the swollen lips of your pussy. "S’ too big…" you whimpered, the walls of your cunt contract around nothing.

He grunted, thrusting faster, feeling your slickness coat his cock, making it easier for him to slide between the folds of your pussy. You moaned, arching your hips and trying to rub yourself against him, but he didn't let you. Instead, he pulled his cock away, smacking the underside of his length against your clit.

"Fuck!" you gasped, your hands flying to his shoulders, gripping the solid muscle and squeezing as you tried to find purchase.

"Don't move," he repeated, swatting his cock against your clit a second time, and then a third, before pressing the tip against your entrance.

Your eyes widened, and you stared up at him with an expression that was half-terror and half-excitement. He smiled down at you, his fingers tangling in the hair at the base of your skull, pulling your head back so you were forced to meet his gaze.

"You're going to take my cock like a good girl," he told you, and you shuddered, a whine slipping past your parted lips.

"I- I don't know if I can," you whispered, your voice shaky and uncertain, and he chuckled.

"Oh, you will," he assured you. "I’ll fuck you with just the tip first, okay? We'll start there and work our way up."

Your brow furrowed, and he could tell you were trying to figure out exactly what he meant by that. But then he was pressing his cock into your tight hole, and all thoughts flew from your mind as his girth stretched you open, stretching you wider than you'd ever been stretched before.

He didn't push his length into you right away, just slid his fat tip in and out, working you open. It felt incredible. You were so tight, so wet, and the way your muscles clenched and pulsed around his shaft had his balls drawing up, ready to blow his load.

"Fuck, baby, you're gonna make me come," he grunted, pulling his cock free from your pussy and rubbing the head against your clit, enjoying the way you shivered and writhed, the way your juices dripped from your hole.

"Want to fill you up," he muttered, pushing his cock back into your cunt, watching the way his thick girth stretched you, disappearing inside of you, inch by inch. "Fill you with my cum and make you pregnant."

Your eyes widened, and you stared up at him with an expression that was part shock and part fear. He didn't care. You'd take his cum, and he'd fill you with it over and over until he was sure you were knocked up.

He slid his length the rest of the way inside of you, until his balls were pressed against the curve of your ass. Until he saw the imprint of his cock bulging through your abdomen. Until his entire shaft was buried deep inside your hot cunt, the head bumping against your cervix.

"Gonna fuck you with my whole cock," he told you, and you moaned, the walls of your pussy fluttering around his shaft. "Gonna make you come all over me."

You gasped, your hands moving to grip his biceps, your nails digging into his skin as he began to pump his length in and out of you, fucking you with his entire shaft. He fucked you fast and hard, his hips snapping, the head of his cock hammering against your cervix, and it didn't take long before your muscles were clenching around his girth, milking him as he pounded into you.

You cried out, your eyes screwing shut, your body trembling as your orgasm tore through you, and he knew he couldn't hold back anymore. With a groan, he thrust his cock deep inside your pussy and came, spurting thick ropes of cum inside your cunt, painting your inner walls with his potent seed. He didn’t stop flooding your womb with his virile cum until he saw the skin of your belly distend and your lower abdomen rounding slightly.

He pulled his cock out, his shaft glistening with his spend and your juices, and you winced, squirming beneath him as his cum trickled out of your cunt, leaking down your ass crack. He pressed his palm flat against the bulge in your belly, watching as the cum gushed out of your stuffed cunt.

"Fucked you so full," he said, rubbing the head of his cock against your swollen clit, making you shiver. "Gonna be dripping my cum for days."

You groaned, your eyes falling shut as he continued to tease your clit, and he leaned down to press a kiss to your lips, his tongue darting out to trace the seam.

"I'm not finished with you yet, little one," he murmured, and you moaned. "I'm going to fill you with my seed over and over again until I'm sure you're pregnant. And then we’ll get married, won’t we?"

#haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x reader smut #ushijima smut #ushijima x reader #haikyuu ushijima #ushijima wakatoshi #ushijima x reader smut

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milkteabinniechan · 8 months ago

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bath water | hwang hyunjin

pairing: virgin! Hyunjin x afab reader // ☕ | m.list

summary: your friend Hyunjin wants to paint on a new canvas: you. And while you are supportive, you didn't think it would feel so good...

warnings: body worship, fingering (f. receiving) smut

part two here

“Well, I actually want to paint on you.” his voice lingered over the receiver. The pause weighed heavy between the two of you.

“You want me paint me?” you held your phone away from your ear, almost about to drop it. Hyunjin was an amazing artist. His pieces could be in museums, in art galleries. Why would he want to paint-

“Huh?” you chimed in finally.

Hyunjin went on to explain some videos he had seen recently demonstrating what they called a human canvas. Artists would paint on the person’s back, or legs, or arms, or… Hyunjin’s voice became softer until the heavy pause appeared again.

You agreed, somewhat reluctantly, to meet at his apartment the following weekend. He told you to wear comfortable clothes. As you paced your way up to his front door, all you could think about was his concentrated face as he paints, now that face would be on you.

Hyunjin answered the door in a loose-fitting white t-shirt and black sweatpants. His hair was messy and he looked exhausted.

“Hey, come on in,” he stepped back and made room for you to walk past him, “I was just getting set up. I put some plastic sheets on the floor and picked out all the colors I would need.”

You turned toward his living room to see a corner of the room with a few small plastic squares laid carefully on the hardwood floors. Pastel colors each in their individual cups and palettes. Paint brushes in various sizes splayed out around the floor as well. He really was full prepared. You chuckled to yourself, you weren’t surprised. When it came to his art, Hyunjin put everything he had into it.

“Alright, so…” hyunjin entered the room after you, “are you ready to get started?” His face was already turning red, as was yours. You could feel your cheeks getting warmer. You cleared your throat and nodded your head.

“Yeah. Let’s do this!” you shouted, fist in the air. Your sudden enthusiasm startling Hyunjin. He burst out laughing and playfully pushed your shoulder.

“You goof.” He smiled.

You smiled back. You had always found a way to make him laugh, and he had always found a way to put you at ease. Then you tugged at your shirt, remembering the whole reason you came over here. Your smile started to fade.

“Did you want to paint my arms? Or my back? Or my-”

“Your back.” Hyunjin cut you off. “I figured it would give me the most space to erm, work with.”

“Sounds good.” your enthusiastic voice now draining by the second.

You tugged at the hem of your shirt and began to pull it up over your head. Hyunjin quickly turned his back to you, awkwardly staring at the wall in front of him. He instructed you to turn away from him once you were ready and he would get started.

“Ready.” you signaled softly, your bare back now facing him. You held your breasts with both hands, a chill rising up over your entire body. Hyunjin worked in silence as you heard the sound of paint brushes dipping in water, then in what you assume was the paint.

The first stroke of his paintbrush was cold, very cold. You jumped at the feeling. The soft bristles trailing down your skin, leaving a damp, cool sensation behind.

“Is it okay?” Hyunjin spoke gently.

You weakly murmured a yes. Your eyes closed, focused intensely on the swirling motions and shapes that he was creating on your skin. You could picture his face, tightly squeezing and scrunching. Suddenly, he stopped painting.

“All done.” He spoke finally. Your eyes fluttered open. Had you fallen asleep? It all happened so fast.

“Already?” you tried to turn your head around, attempting to catch a glimpse of his work.

“I was point for two hours, goof. You must have zoned out.” Hyunjin stood up and stretched his arms and rolled his shoulders.

Two hours? You thought. Painting felt amazing. You were almost sad it was over. You didn’t want it to be over. You wanted more. The feeling of the paint brush across your skin. Wet paint dripping down your body. Wait. You thought, This was turning you on. You selfishly had an idea, but you had no notion if Hyunjin would even agree to it. You didn’t even know if he had seen a woman naked before. You didn’t want to overstep, but unholy thoughts were consuming you.

“Y-you know,” you started, “you could paint my front too, Hyunjin.” You turned your body toward him, his body still towering over yours. Your hands were still cupped over your breasts, but it’s where Hyunjin’s eyes were glued.

For a moment, he didn’t speak, neither of you did. You both just stared at each other, unsure what to say next. Eventually, you spoke again.

“Only if you have more to paint, of course. More ideas.” You waited again for a response. Hyunjin’s eyes were wide. His mouth tightened to a thin line across his face. You could feel your face growing hot again. Regretting every moment of the last five minutes.

“I-I don’t think that would be such a g-good idea.” Hyunjin said under his breath, avoiding eyes contact now. He rubbed the back of his nack and stared at the floor next to you.

You felt your heart fall into your stomach. Your throat dried up to dust and the air was pressed instantly from your lungs. Tears pricked the corners of your eyes as you broke eye contact with Hyunjin. You turned your face away quickly so he wouldn’t see how red it was.

“I’m going to go wash up, then.” was all you could think to say.

You stood fast and made your way to his bathroom. After you took a few minutes to catch your breath in front of the mirror, you turned on the bathtub. The hot water filling the tub, inviting you in to wash away this incredibly uncomfortable experience. You slide off your pants and underwear, setting them in a pile with your shirt to dress when you were done. You let yourself slide into the clear water. Just your head poking and bobbing out.

Suddenly, dread filled your entire body. You couldn’t wash all this paint off yourself, it was on your back. There was no loofa or sponge to wash with. And now you just made an idiot of yourself in front of your friend. You could feel tears welling up in your eyes again.

“Can I help?” Hyunjin spoke from the other side of the door.

“No, no. I’ve got it!” you lied.

“Please, let me help you.” Hyunjin’s sincerity was palpable, even through the closed door.

You begrudgingly allowed him inside, adding the small caveat that you were completely nude in his bathtub. Suprisingly, he came in anyway. He walked in with eyes closed. Blindly feeling around to get his barrings again. At last, he stood in front of the tub, eyes still shut tight.

“I’m sorry.” Hyunjin whispered. “I just-I’ve never…” his pleading eyes finally meeting yours. You searched his face to try to decipher what he was trying to say. You tried your best to use your hands to cover yourself, to allude to some sort of modesty. But you were hesitant if it was working at all.

“I’m a virgi-” Hyunjin had lost his train of thought. He had lost everything that was ever on his mind when he saw you laying in the bathtub. The paint from his human canvas has started to dissolve and disperse into the clear water around you. The colors swirling and dancing together to form new color combinations. Reds and purples, and blues and yellows were seeking and chasing new paths around the curves of your naked body. You were magnificent.

You watched Hyunjin’s eyes trace your exposed body from top to bottom, like he was memorizing every detail. On instinct, you slowly moved your hands away from your breasts and your soft slit. The sight of your hard nipples poking in and out of the swiriling, colorful water made Hyunjin fall to his knees in front of the bathtub. His eyes never leaving your body. You inspected his face to try to see what he wanted, when instantaneously, his hand appeared in the water with you. His long fingers dipped into the warm bath water, lightly grazing your outer thigh. You cautiously lifted your leg, the sound of the water trickling off of your skin. He froze, unsure of what to do next.

You grasp your hand around his fingers and pull them down toward your slit. Slowly you and Hyunjin inch closer, careful to notice any hesitation, but soon it is his hand leading yours. It is his fingers that are pulling closer towards your enterance. One finger gracefully strokes the outside of your cunt. Starting at the top and sliding down between your lips, then back up again. He was completely entranced, utterly hypnorized. You let out a ragged breath as you watched his index and middle finger, little by little, message your soft lips until your clit began to swell. His middle finger felt it first, welcoming the invitation on sliding in deeper.

His hand completely moving on instinct now. Rubbing around the clit, small circles at first. He wanted to learn what you liked, how your body reacted. It was like painting again, combining different colors to see what new would come of it. He felt your legs twitch when he applied more pressure, your hips would buck ever so slightly when his rubbed faster. He wanted to see what else he could make your body do. You were his best art project. His human canvas.

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obj4soul · 5 months ago

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Women's clothing sucks. And I now firmly believe that one of the reason women are more obsessed about their weight is because of clothing. Growing up I mostly wore mens/boys clothing and I never had to think about size, waist, etc. The clothes won't hug my thighs in the sense that would make me conscious of them while moving. If the waist was too big id grab a belt. Plus the design of pants and tshirts was pretty standard.

Now during my late teens, early twenties i started going towards more women's clothing. Because i felt I had to look more feminine. And HOLY SHIT. It sucked. BAD. First the material. Its so bad and thin and cost more than guys clothes. No standard Tshirt fit, everything has a different shoulder to chest ratio. The pants are either too tight, hug your ass and thighs too much or are too baggy to be comfortable. And the waist. Holy shit. Ive been underweight till I was 23 (medical reasons). And I didnt have a lot of problem with the waist thing then (see where this is going) but the moment I kicked my illness and gained weight and got into normal weight range, dude the waist thing became a big issue. FIRST of all. For guys the waist end at waist, the hip bone area. Not for women. Most clothes go above the hip bones, some even over the belly button. If the thing feels right standing up, youll suffocate sitting down. And even if its elastic waistband, its sitting on your stomach, it does not have a bone to support it and it feels uncomfortable. (Maybe I have some sensory issue, I don't know about yall but I dont like being conscious of clothes sticking to my body). And now to the main point. I never had any issue with waist being uncomfortable when I was underweight or when I wear boys pants (really pants made for boys get more humanly consideration than women) and the moment i got into normal range, the womens pants saying they are my waist size fit pretty snug and tight around my waist, ass and thighs. But still till this day I never face this issue with my boys pants. Today while trying on some pants that my mom gifted me that said their waist was a size bigger than mine I found then uncomfortable and started thinking should I lose some weight? And that fucking blew my mind because I am already thin and in a pretty normal range of BMI. Those clothes feel comfortable as long as you are underweight. That is insane. Seriously. Ladies if this the case with you all. Or maybe some of you. Ditch the women's section. If you are short like me, go for the boys section or else mens. These fucking clothing sizes and designs are not made thinking of your comfort in mind. Now im gonna go to the store and exchange the pants for some boys khaki pants.

I think this is just one face of how the system is designed to make you feel uncomfortable and doubt yourself. You see how much waist room guys get? We are the same species after all. What the fuck. Do you make different size clothing for male and female cats or monkeys? No fucking other species have such a wide difference in body shape than what humans are told we have.

#beauty industry #radical feminism #radical feminists do interact #anti beauty industry #radblr

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eowynstwin · 5 months ago

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This truly is the last thing I want to say on this blog and then I'm done psych I lived bitch, but given how the fucking catastrophe started it's only appropriate this is how I end it—

You have racist bias whether you like it or not. Particularly if you are US American, racism was baked into your worldview no matter what kind of household, liberal or conservative, you grew up in. Racism is quite often far more covert than it is overt. It is not just a voluntary behavior; it is more often the subconscious ways you organize and hierarchize other cultures and people.

In the case of Gaz—sure, you might actively believe that he deserves to be more included. You think he's a good character and people really should think about him more! But you personally headcanon him a certain way, and really it's not a headcanon you're actually all that into, so that's why you don't talk about him as much. It's not because he's black, it's because he doesn't fit the thing you like talking about the most. The fact that he's black is really just a coincidence, you're not excluding him because of that. In fact, you're sure other people like him for exactly the reason you're not all that into him, and you'll just leave it to them to pick up the slack. Or you'll get to him later! In fact, you have some ideas for him. You just haven't gotten around to them yet.

Take that and multiply it by thousands of white women in fandom—not just this fandom, not just Gaz's character, but every fandom and every character of color. It doesn't matter that there's no active malice behind not personally liking black characters and other characters of color. Non-white characters still take a backseat to their white counterparts, because white women in fandom cannot wrap their heads around black, brown, indigenous, and Asian characters as complex, complicated characters worthy of their interest or frankly, their desire.

They cannot wrap their heads around this because they were conditioned not to by decades of racist culture.

Case in point; plenty of white women in this fandom have fallen head over heels for Makarov and Graves. The sins of these out-and-out villains are totally forgiven by virtue of their sex appeal, and because they are portrayed by attractive, charismatic men who put a lot of passion behind their performances.

But can we say the same for Hadir? Can we say the same for Hassan?

The sins of these two Middle Eastern characters do not outweigh those of their villainous white counterparts, yet how many angsty fix-it fics have been written exploring Hadir's complicated relationship with violence and imperialism? How many enemies-to-lovers or even lovers-to-enemies fics have been written about Hassan, the face of whose homeland has been irrevocably marred by US interference?

No one who points out the racism of this trend is accusing these white women of active, militant white supremacy. I'm not saying any of you even have to like Gaz, Hadir, or Hassan. But your preferences have been tuned for you by a culture shaped by slavery, imperialism, and white supremacy. That is not something you can escape merely because you support the BLM movement or reblog vetted Palestinian gofundmes.

The only way you can truly fight your own racism is to be actively anti-racist. It is about far more than who you give money to or what graphics you pin on your instagram. It is an everyday practice of learning how racism has shaped your worldview for you.

This is not work that is done in a week, a month, or a year. Becoming anti-racist takes as much time as it took to make you racist in the first place. For some of you, the work may turn out to be easy. For others, it may be hard. You must do it either way.

Some good places to start:

Things Fall Apart by Chinua Achebe

Ain't I a Woman? by bell hooks

We Real Cool: Black Men and Masculinity by bell hooks

A Burst of Light by Audre Lorde

The Body Is Not An Apology by Sonya Renee Taylor

Fearing the Black Body by Sabrina Strings

Reading Lolita in Tehran by Azar Nafisi

Being Palestinian edited by Yasir Suleiman

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smuttysabina · 6 months ago

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When Editing Goes Wrong

(Pokimane's Editor (You) x Pokimane, 3.3k Words) Tags: Excessive masturbation, gooning, sex surprisingly enough, anal sex, oral sex, foot sex, butt sex, obsessive behavior, a stunningly brave tale about the perils of editing for your masturbation material, absolutely degenerate behavior all around, also like damn dude you really couldn't resist telling her huh? Current events, breeding

You had done it, you had acquired your dream job, being the video editor for your favorite streamer; there was just one small problem, an afterthought really, an understatement. You were totally and utterly addicted to every inch of Pokimane's body. Her luscious hair, her gorgeous eyes, her perky lips, her smooth skin, her bodacious breasts, her toned arms, her delicate hands, her smooth stomach, her shapely hips, her puffy mound, her thick thighs, her tempting feet, so perfectly shaped and formed and begging to be licked- Oh dear, you did it again, another hour gone and several tissues filled. You were supposed to be taking Poki's raw, uncut footage and removing all the parts those filthy gooners would enjoy too much, obviously some slightly erotic shots would be left in to titillate them, but not enough to make her haters online accuse her of being a slutty tease. The issue was that there was simply too much delicious content to sort through, and you were unable to resist slamming your meat for hours on end to all of the content she was sending you. You would hump your hand for hours on end to your own private compilations of lewd moments, groaning Pokimane's name as you worshipped her in the only way you knew how. Of course, this made getting videos and vlogs out on time somewhat difficult, since editing actually public-friendly videos did in fact take some time, so things were getting to the point where you might have to start asking for extensions...

You sweat nervously as you hurriedly type out a message to Poki, explaining to her that you would be unable to get her video out this week, that you had hit some unexpected snags while cutting down her content. Nothing to be worried about of course, just a normal hazard of splicing together all of those disparate clips, you should have the vlog out in time by next week, for sure! Your typing is made a touch more difficult by the fact that you were doing so one-handed, even messaging your goddess got you all worked up. Her response of course, is as kindly and supportive as always, "No worries, these things do happen! I am looking forward to receiving the vlog by Wednesday of next week." Next Wednesday? You look at your calendar and groan in despair, it was going to be hard to fit editing time into your schedule with all the gooning you had been planning on doing... But you managed it, somehow. The thought of disappointing your goddess, as arousing as that was, had goaded you into putting the effort in, and you had made what you knew was a masterpiece. You smile proudly as you send the vlog to Poki, you were sure her fans would love it, and they did! "Good job on that last video Editor, that extra time sure helped, didn't it?" Your goddess praises you, so of course you have to hump your hand in celebration, you finish several times to that simple sentence.

The next few weeks pass by without much incident, with you throwing together videos in time for the deadline while still blasting rope to Pokimane constantly. Your videos had been doing extremely well judging by the viewer-count, your subtle blend of inside jokes and community memes with vaguely provocative shots had been largely popular with the fanbase. Of course, you kept the most delectable cuts to yourself, so while those degenerate coomers online were filling their pants to some risque stills, you were pumping furiously to the good stuff. The editing for the upcoming week's video was running into some blockages however, since for whatever sadistic reason Poki had chosen to include almost half an hour's worth of video pointed down at her bare feet as she wanders around her apartment chattering away. You had been unable to resist such potent stimulation, and had been beating your meat almost continuously to her feet. So lost in your lusts were you, that when Poki messages you, you feel inclined to answer honestly, "What's the hold up on next week's video? Its almost Sunday and I haven't gotten it yet?" Your orgasm-fried brain misfires as you try to conceive an excuse, but the thought of telling her the truth is simply too exciting to resist. So you tell Poki that you had been too busy blasting rope to her perfect feet, pumping and edging to her delicate toes and smooth soles so much that you were unable to fit in any editing. You climax when you hit send, obliterating several tissues as you end your hours-long session with a catastrophic orgasm; then of course you realize what you had done, and start panicking. Not that you should have worried though, as Poki swiftly responds, "Understandable, but please try to stop jacking off long enough to do your job." Suitably chastened, you comply; but not before squeezing another fap in.

Over the next month, you start to notice a subtle change in the content Pokimane sends you. Whereas before the more sensual shots would go by swiftly, now she seemed to... linger a bit on certain areas. Normal people would not have perceived this development, but as someone who had spent the past year consuming endless hours of her content, it was obvious. Poki would now spend on average an extra second giving you a view down her bodice, show off her meaty ass for just a little longer, playfully flex her toes before moving onto something else. Of course, you react to this novel situation by offering her with yet more of your seed, while still barely managing to get a video out on time every week. Editors truly have it rough!

Then it happened. In the middle of a vlog about household products, Poki was busy blathering about her automatic cat feeder when she suddenly pauses and stares at the camera. "I know you're watching, Editor. I just wanted to give you a special thank you for all of your hard work." Then she pulls up her shirt to reveal her breasts, wiggles them around, before yanking it back down again and continuing her spiel where she had left off. You gawp in absolute shock, sure that your mind had been playing tricks on you, that your fantasies had bled into real life, that this was actually just a surprisingly accurate wet dream. But no, as you rewind and replay the section, Pokimane had in fact flashed you, she had shown you her slightly tan breasts, each perky while still carrying some heft, graced with a dark-brown nipple upon a wide areola. Your response is entirely predictable, you pound your fleshlight for an entire day straight, not even stopping for food or rest as you honor your goddess's bountiful blessing. When you collapse, it is only from sheer exhaustion, your body and balls utterly drained by the sight of Pokimane's boobs. Upon awakening, you discover that a large amount of time had passed, and that you had a minimal amount of time to complete your deadline. Working like a man possessed, you furiously throw together a video, not even touching yourself once where before you would have savored every tantalizing moment. Through some holy miracle, you are able to send Poki the week's video on time, a feat that she seems suitably impressed by, "I thought you would have to be late again this week, good job Editor."

The next week's content is lacking in such stimulation however, simply a return to Pokimane's usual slight teasing, which still excites you, but leaves you yearning for more. Which was no doubt her intent, because in her next footage, she abruptly turns around, bends over, and pulls down her pants. The mere sight of Poki's monolithic ass in the nude has you painting the underside of your desk before you can fully process what you are seeing. Her fat cheeks wobble provocatively before she languidly reaches back and spreads them and reveals her glistening slit- By the time you have regained control of yourself, you are literally covered in cum, and far, far past your deadline. Panicking, you open your messages and hurriedly inform her that this week's vlog would be delayed due to a medical emergency you had to deal with; yes indeed your health had truly been threatened by what you had seen! Pokimane's response seems amused, "Don't lie to me Editor, you were too busy blasting rope to my ass, admit it." Moaning, you have no choice but to agree with her, informing your goddess that you had been unable to resist relentlessly pleasuring yourself to her; begging her for forgiveness, "It's fine, just be sure to have two videos done by the end of this week, or I'll have to find a new editor, got it?" The mere thought of being cut off by your queen has you in shambles, and you grovelingly assure Poki that her will would be done.

Through a herculean effort, you manage to complete your task, sending two videos of the highest quality to Poki, "Good job, I'm impressed! Next week I will not be posting though, so enjoy your time off." Most employees would celebrate having an entire week off, but being denied fresh content has left you morose; no matter, you still needed to enjoy her last gifts to the fullest. Then a notification pops up that you had received the usual weekly content file from Pokimane, and curious, you open it. Inside there is only one file, an hour long titled: 'For My Editor'. Thoroughly intrigued, and not a little excited, you start to watch it. The video starts with Poke modeling in a sleek black dress, nothing unusual there, as she poses and shows off her angles until she pauses and looks into the camera, "Hello Editor, after working so hard last week, I decided to help you get through this one." Whereupon she confidently pulls her dress over her head and tosses it aside, revealing her voluptuous body to you in all its glory. Pokimane leans forward, cupping her breasts with an arm while making slow stroking motions with her other hand, "Jack off for me, Editor. Pump, pump, pump," she growls huskily. Then she explores her body for you, fondling her weighty breasts, running her hands down her fertile tummy, teasingly rubbing her slit, turning around so that she can show you how heavy her ass is as she bounces it with her hands. All the while she encourages you to pleasure yourself to her, motioning with her hand for you to masturbate, "Edge for me Editor, I want you all worked up for the real show..." Poki opens her mouth and sticks out her tongue, rolling her eyes back in a perfect ahegao face for a full minute before ending with a devilish smirk. Her teasing grows ever more obscene as her own arousal heightens, "Imagine how wet my mouth would be wrapped around your cock, how soft my boobs would be, how tight my ass would be, how breedable my pussy is..." She moans ecstatically, her fingers squishing against her lower lips as she masturbates, as she angles the camera downwards towards the floor. Poki crouches in front of it, breathing heavily, her face flushed, "How would you take me, Editor?" She gets on her back, spreading her legs for you so that you can see just how sopping wet her pussy is, how it would be to pump between her meaty thighs, "Missionary?" Before rolling over and hoisting her thick ass in the air, pressing her chest against the ground to show you her sensual arch, "Doggy?" She gets up onto her knees and turns around, lustfully humping their air while groping herself and licking her lips, "Or would I need to put all the work in?" Poki leans forward, purring, "I want you to fuck me, Editor. I want every last drop of your cum, understood?" Wet slopping noises grew louder as her face became more and more red, as she nods encouragingly as the camera, "Do it, now. Cum for me, Editor. Cum in me!" Then Pokimane lets out a little gasp before moaning unashamedly, her eyes rolling back as she climaxes right in front of the lens, shuddering with pleasure until it is over. She sighs sensually, "Enjoy your week off..." before giving you a wink and ending the video. Needless to say, you did not get much done that week.

Or the next week for that matter, so busy were you blasting fat reams of jizz to your Goddess's instructions; so lost in an endless cycle of cumming for Pokimane that you only stopped when she messaged you again, "I guess you've been too busy stroking for me to get any work done, so here's a little incentive for you. Finish a video, and I'll give you an hour of my time, deal?" Of course, you had no choice but to obey, even with images of your queen's naked body prancing through your addled brain, you still managed to pump out a video in a reasonable amount of time; as well as an unreasonable amount of loads. A few hours after sending the video, you hear a knock on your apartment door, and more than a little annoyed at being interrupted while worshipping your goddess, you go to open it. Imagine your shock then when you find Pokimane on the other side of it, wearing a sleek outfit of deep red, dolled up to perfection. Pushing past your gawping form, she stalks inside, wrinkling her nose at the stench of semen she plops herself on your much-stained bed before licking her lips and giving you an expecting look, "Well? You have an hour, how would you like to fuck me?" You let out a piteous groan as you shamble forward, your cock already bulging and dripping, your mind unable to believe that your goddess is before you, but your body knows what to do. You dreamily turn her around and pull down her panties, humping Poki's fat ass as she amusingly informs you to go in raw, "After all, I am on birth control, and I doubt I have to worry about any STDs..." So you mount Pokimane like an animal for an entire hour, grunting like a beast while she passively waits for you to finish, you don't stop pumping for a single moment, nor do you ever stop filling her up with your cum until it leaks out of her cunt. Before you know it, her phone is buzzing loudly, and she commands you to stop, your hour is over. You notice she is limping slightly as she leaves, "Fuck I am so full..." she murmurs, before cheerfully saying, "I'm looking forward to your next video, Editor" and leaving.

The subsequent months pass by in a blur, you swiftly and skillfully produce a video for Pokimane, and soon after she arrives at your door, ready to be used. And god, do you use her. You lick and fuck her feet until they are squishy with your semen; you pump between her mighty thighs, breeding her continuously as she moans beneath you; you mount her fat tits more often that you can count, humping her chest until her breasts are smothered with cum; you make her suck you off, making her clean the fluids of your coupling off your cock so many times you know the contours of her mouth better than she does; you violate her anus with her cock, often without any lubrication, groaning as her tight coils milk your dry within minutes; you plow her from behind, again and again and again, unable to resist her thick ass you simply give in and fuck; you spend several hours simply jacking off onto her perfect face, until her hair is soaked and her face white; you make her ride you in every position imaginable, bouncing and swaying on your cock while her breasts flop around her chest, as she tirelessly drains you of load after load; you masturbate to porn together, until you are both staining the sheets afresh with your cum; you ask her to peg you, which she does with great enthusiasm while your cock sprays like a firehose; you dress her up in all sorts of cosplays, roleplaying a wide variety of scenarios that always seem to end up with you breeding her while howling her name; you fuck her while watching the video she sent you, so that you are pumping to Poki porn using Poki's perfect pussy, achieving a gooner's nirvana.

All the while you continue to churn out videos like a machine, all of which rack up an ever growing quantity of views and interactions; you are single-handedly (because the other hand is busy) driving up Pokimane's numbers on Youtube. You reach your zenith after editing while your goddess's head bobs between your legs, sucking you dry even as you complete your masterpiece. Eventually though, you begin to tire of it all, your videos begin to do progressively less well, and you feel a growing indifference towards Poki. You had flew to close too the gooner sun, your wings had been burned by the intensity of your fulfilled passions for her. No longer did her every message and word carry the power to compel you any more, no longer was she your Aphrodite, now she was simply a high priestess, the pedestal of goddess left unoccupied as your ardor cools. None of which goes unnoticed by Poki, so that one day she messages you, "I think we may need to go our separate ways Editor, let's discuss this at your place," and you agree. She patiently explains that the quality of your videos had declined recently, and that she was firing you, "Send me a copy of all the recordings you made of us together though," she smirks at your shock, "what, you thought I wouldn't notice? That much content will be useful for when I launch on Pornhub." You shudder at the thought of Pokimane gracing the porn scene with her presence, much seed would be spilt that day... "Also, I shot your reference to a friend of mine who needs a good editor, so expect to hear from her soon." You thank her profusely for this generosity, and she smirks in response, "Once more before the road then? I know how much you love fucking me..." So you spend the next hour pumping Pokimane full of your semen, and making her suck the resulting mess off of your dick; she even stays an extra few minutes to make sure it is extra clean. You hear her mutter as she leaves for the final time, "Well that one lasted a while..."

You spend the next week in a morose stupor, lost without a goddess to worship, unable to even achieve an erection. Even when Poki glibly announces on stream that she had to fire her pervert of an editor, you don't get hard even from this humiliation. Your depressed mood continues until a fresh notification pops up on your work account, piquing your interest; it reads, "Hello, I was looking for a new editor, and Imane recommended you to me! I need to have this video out by tomorrow, so please get it done ASAP! -AriaSaki" Curious now, you open up attached files, and feel a faint stirring in your crotch. Several hours later, and you send the video to her, your cock leaking from your constant edging, eager for her response. You don't have long to wait, as a short video arrives soon after, you open to see the goddess talking excitedly to you, while wearing little more than short-shorts and a blue pushup bra, "OH MY GAWD, thank you so much Editor! This looks so freaking good, let's discuss terms tomorrow okay? Thank you thank you thank you!" Before ending it with a beaming smile. You are smiling as well, as semen drips down from the underside of your desk, anything for your goddess AriaSaki...

And so the Editor finds a new job, and the cycle continues...

#smut #otv smut #pokimane smut #ariasaki smut #imane smut #poki smut

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liseytopia · 11 months ago

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───★

𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐝𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐡𝐜𝐬.

𓇼 finnick odair who snorts with tears of laughter welling in the corners of his eyes when he laughs too hard. when you two share jokes and bring up funny moments you had together.

𖦹 finnick odair who loves flustering you with pickup lines and snarky comments, but covers his face with the palms of his hands when you get him back. behind those hands is a pretty, dimpled smile and blushed cheeks that scream 'i love you.'

𓇼 finnick odair who finds comfort in holding your hand. tracing little shapes on your knuckles with his calloused yet soft fingertips.

𖦹 finnick odair who bought you a surfboard that matches with his for your birthday. he customized it to fit you, with little drawings of pearls and sea stars that remind him of you along it. when not in use, it's on full display in your shared bedroom as your prized possession.

𓇼 finnick odair who loves play fighting with you. who lets you jump on him, giggling, and every now and then knock him down. who lets you straddle over him and playfully punch his shoulder. it makes him happy to see you having fun, not to mention he has fun too, laughing and manhandling you off of him.

𖦹 finnick odair who always wants you there with him when he's taking a bath or shower. he finds comfort in water itself, so it's only fitting that he gets to have his pretty girl with him. he always finds a way to make it fun when you two bathe, sitting on opposite ends of the tub and shaping little creatures out of the bubbles.

𓇼 finnick odair who can't even pretend he doesn't like it when you wear his clothes. it makes his heart swoop when he sees you walking around in one of his tee-shirts, especially when in public.

𖦹 finnick odair who randomly picks you up to kiss your lips whenever he wants. you two could be in a meeting in thirteen and he'll wrap your legs around his waist to get as much of your lips as he wants. it causes glares from haymitch and coin, but does he really care if you're right there with him?

𓇼 finnick odair who will always be there to be a shoulder to cry on. more than that, even. he'll comfort you until the end of time. finnick will always and forever be there to support you, help you after your nightmares, to kiss your forehead with passion and wrap has arms around your shaking body, acting as a shield from whatever horrors were brought by the capitol.

───★

#just a lil something while i work on my actual finnick fic!#lisey's fics .ᐟ #finnick odair #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair x you #finnick odair x fem!reader #thg #thg finnick #finnick #finnick x reader #finnick x you

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yawnderu · 1 year ago

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Fantasize — König x Reader

content: romantic love-making, love confessions during sex, praise, creampie.

"That's it." König praises, his usually high pitched voice getting deeper every time he sinks into you, fucking you deep and slow, a complete contrast to his animalistic thrusts a few seconds ago. His dick is stretching your cunt out, shaping it like a perfect fit for his thick shaft.

"Ich liebe dich." He whispers into your ear, hands holding onto the curve of your waist to guide you up and down, his hips thrusting up to meet you halfway, the feeling of your cum dripping down his balls and pooling up on his groin is driving him wild, balls tightening up as he starts to pick up the pace.

"Ich— ich liebe dich auch, mein König." You manage to speak out between whiny moans and soft gasps, the feeling of the tip of his dick kissing your cervix leaving you without breath. Your fingers interwine with his and you could swear despite not being able to see his face, his expression softened. Bright blue eyes look up at you with nothing but pure adoration, pupils dilating while his cock goes deeper and deeper into you, holding your body down as he fully impales you with his shaft.

"Du bist die Liebe meines Lebens." He whispers out and though you can't understand what he said, the emotion in his voice and eyes let you know it's something sweet. He pulls you down to his chest, one of his hands firmly planted on the curve of your back while the other one is holding the back of your head, praises in German coming out of his lips like prayer, each one filled with more and more desperation in his tone, deep groans and whines mixed in.

"Cum with me, Engel." His hips stuttered for a second before he started thrusting up into you faster, going all the way inside you before pulling away just to sink himself deep again, the feeling of his groin rubbing your clit from this position and the way he was holding you while pushing himself deeper and deeper each time drove you closer to the edge, nails sinking into his bare shoulders as your second orgasm hits you, pussy tightening up around him while he gives your cunt one last deep thrust, burying himself all the way inside, being milked dry by you.

Ich liebe dich: I love you.

Ich liebe dich auch: I love you too.

Du bist die Liebe meines Lebens: you are the love of my life.

Engel: angel.

@kenthegaefrog for u :P ♡ thank u so much for the support!!

#cod mw2 #cod mwii #konig cod #konig smut #konig mw2 #konig x reader #konig call of duty #konig #konig modern warfare #könig smut #könig #könig cod #könig x reader #könig mw2 #könig call of duty #call of duty #mw2 smut #mw2 fluff

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bacchicly · 10 months ago

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A few imperfect thoughts about writing fat characters respectfully

By me :

A short (5'2"), fat (approx 300 pounds), middle aged (turning 42 thank god), married to not a fat man, mother of a pre-teen, white, CIS, Anglo, Canadian, upper-middle class woman who writes fic (including smut) about a character who is fat by TV and Hollywood standards (Penelope Garcia)

Note: fat hate or debates about whether being fat is healthy or not will not be tolerated on this post. That is not what this post is about. This is about giving some insight into what writers may want to consider when trying to respectfully include more fat characters in their work and generally moving towards writing doing less harm to fat people.

This post started with me wanting to respond to someone honnestly asking "how do I write good descriptions of fat people" because they wanted to write more fat characters and write them authentically (and I assume in a way that would be respectful to fat people) which is an awesome! ...Or maybe it started a few months ago when a writer friend asked about whether a fat character in a fic borrowing a shirt or hoody from her fit boyfriend made sense. ...Or maybe it started way back when I started writing my first fan fic featuring Penelope Garcia partly in response to being irritated about how so many writers wrote her as a young woman and were often silent on her size or spent a lot of time on her insecurities about her body... anyhoo that's where I come from... doesn't make me an expert except maybe on my own unique experience with a fat body...rather more a fellow muddler / fat character writer enthusiast.

THE BASICS

This first part is a quick list of basics you'll read in other posts about writing characters in general - but we'd better get them out of the way because they apply:

Every character is unique and they way they act and think and feel tends to be a product of some mix of what they look like, how their body works or doesn't, how their brain works and doesn't, their "personality", what they were taught, their unique experiences, and the situation/society they are currently in. There are patterns (which is why we get tropes) but the fun thing is that small things can make big differences. So to write an authentic character, it helps to have a fairly clear sense of at least some of those elements and do some imagining about how all of that would funnel into the moment your writing.

The amount to which you describe character bodies and the style which you use to describe them tends to depend on genre, what the heck is going on in your story, the pov you're writing from, the reason you're writing etc. So their are no hard or fast rules. There may be norms for certain styles of fiction, but then it's up to you to decide if it's stronger for you to lean into those norms or to write "against" them at a particular moment.

In order to be more respectful and less harmful to fat people (especially if you see value in actively challenging the anti-fat status quo), you may have to change how you describe all bodies in your work, as well the attitudes both fat people and non fat people have about bodies in general.

Now that that's out of the way... let's get specifically to my thoughts on writing fat characters. I'm going to divide this part into tips for DESCRIBING FAT BODIES, FAT BODIES IN SPACE, and THINKING AND FEELING IN A FAT BODY.

TIPS FOR DESCRIBING FAT (OR OTHER) BODIES

I would say that both consistency and diversity across the work is important, by this I mean :

Consistently describe bodies in about the same amount of detail across your work for the same type of character regardless of body type. So protagonists should get about the same depth and breath of body descriptions as each other regardless of body type. Same goes for vilalns, supporting characters etc. Sometimes people are mute about the look and shape of "strait sized" character bodies (because what's to describe - they are just "normal") but then spend a bunch of time on "other sized" bodies or vice versa (in this case, the fat body is erased usually because of some form of internalised fat hate or phobia paired with "if you can't say anything nice" don't say anything at all.) If you're doing either of these things, I'm not saying it's wrong and has to be fixed- I'm just saying it's a flag that you may want to think about why you are writing differently about different body types and what your work is saying about what bodies have value and which don't.

Diversity Bodies in the real world come in a lot of different shapes and sizes (I know I know obvious woman strikes again) but if you are writing stories with fairly large casts and everyone has the same body type - there better be a good reason for it within the narrative. Truthfully there are cases where this does make sense to some degree... if you're writing about a group where there are physical requirements and standards for the folks in that world (ballet dancers, fire fighters, cops, soldiers, fbi agents) there may or may not be less diversity in body type and more homogeneous attitudes to body norms within the group - and certainly those who are outside of the norm may be commented on or feel like they are "other". But if you are in a more free setting - if you write without a diversity of body types - especially in settings where there is diversity - that is probably a clue that you're not thinking enough about what your various characters look like and may be "normalizing" one type of body over others. Similarly, if you are writing about a real time and place where there is evidence that there were fat bodies and you have none...that's another flag to ask yourself why.

The magical tools in your toolkit for describing fat and other bodies: Body neutrality and POV

Body neutrality is about not loving bodies and not hating bodies just accepting bodies as they are....or in this case describing them as they are. No poetic language. No judgement. Just this is what this character looks like. If you're struggling to do this, I suggest doing a body map for at least two characters with different body types - possibly one that you find easy to think of positively (in this case likely someone thin or at least fit) and one that you find more difficult to describe positively (in this case someone fat).

Describe them head to toe, naked and then clothed, in detail - acurately but not poetically. Start with their feet and then work up bit by bit. Pay attention to things like hair, scars, shape of joints, acne, tightness or looseness of skin, colour of skin, nails, fat, lack of fat, muscle tone, where do they hold their stress, what's in the bowels, how well they do or don't work, do they have their appendix, what they ate last, proportions (is their torso long or short compared to their legs), lungs - how much do they hold, are they healthy? - now describe their throat, shoulders, hands, hair, then end with face.

The only rule is no positive or negative connotations to anything. it's neither good nor bad that they have stretch marks - they just do and they have faded to silver. Now that you "see them' clearly - now look at them through the eyes of someone who loves them in a familial way...what do they see most? what words do they use? now through someone who is attracted to them sexually and love them and aren't ashamed...what do they see most? what words do they use? Now through the eyes of someone who hates them or wants to change them? or a child? or a dog? Now... how does your character feel about these descriptions? Now you have a variety of words you can draw on to describe the body and you also should have a fairly good idea of what is a more skewed view of the body and a more realistic view.

Also...it can be helpful to remember there are no consistently good or bad words to describe bodies - it depends on context and who is using the words. It's a lot like how sick can be used to describe something negatively or positively depending on the agreed upon meaning of the word by a group.

DESCRIBING BODIES IN SPACE/MOTION

Ok here's the thing - for every activity you can think of - there is a fat body that does it well and a fat body that can't do it easily or at all and there are a lot of reasons for both. Often it has to do with the fact that a lot of equipment is built for people who are 250lbs or less; and anything for bigger people tends to cost a premium. Also, if it's not an easy new skill to acquire with the body you've got...it may take longer and more bravery to keep pushing through to achieve mastery. People may try to discourage you from pursuing things. Sometimes out of prejudice, sometimes out of impatience, sometimes out of caring.

So deciding what your character's body can do easily and what it can't and why is more important than me giving you a list of words for how to describe fat movements.

My suggestion is: do your research. What sorts of body types have done the activity in the real world? What are the exceptions? What changes? So for example if a fat person is climbing a mountain - do they need more help? Different equipment? A different route?

Things to consider:

- equipment / things that can have weight limits: bunk beds, roller coasters, scooters, waterslides, camping chairs, elevators, trampolines, some bikes, life jackets (finding one that fit was a nightmare), exercise balls, airline seats (learning to ask for the seatbelt extender without second thought or shame was a lifesaver)

- not all fat people have pain, those who do will move taking into account the specifics of the pain - same as a lean person

- when I was pregnant I just got more cylindrical and did not get a classic belly. I moved well and easily all the way through my pregnancy, I had none of the back pain or ankle pain some people get. I stood for a lot of my labour. I gave birth on my hands and knees. Other fat people will have had different experiences of pregnancy...but that was mine.

- clothing can have a huge impact on what bounces or jiggles and what doesn't

- most (but not all) fat people I know are particularly sensitive to appearing sweaty or smelling bad

- how winded someone gets is not directly correlated to body size, neither is heart rate or breathing style; I have theatre training and grew up swimming - I breath very slowly and very deeply normally - so when I talk a slow deep breath...it is very slow and deep indeed. I have always been fat but can swim forever - I have always gotten winded and kind of dizzy running... Other fat people may be opposite.

- people do not "see fat" consistently. People regularly underestimate how fat I am (by 100+ pounds or many clothing sizes) because I am short, well spoken, proportioned in a way that is seen as fairly typical, and very mobile and very light on my feet. Someone who weighs less than me but is slower moving, dull witted, in a sour mood, is illl, or poorly dressed may be perceived as much heavier than than someone the same weight or heavier who is behaving/clothed differently (which can change how much fat hate someone experiences) and definately heavier than they are. Height also changes how people perceive weight.

- many stores still don't carry plus sized clothing, but eventually i sort of got used to it - although some days it makes me angry and other days sad

- chairs with arms or the occasional booth can be uncomfortable or just plain impossible to sit in, it's probably partly my ADHD but I often forget this until it happens; for taller and fatter people than me this can be a much more regular occurrence.

- once (if) a character figures out how to dress/move their body in a way that feels comfortable and meets general standards (or at least theirs) of respectability - they may not think that much about their body...or at least until something external draws attention to it

- I don't like feeling like I'm squishing people, so I will make myself small and still on buses or at the theatre, I also don't like sitting on laps or being lifted or carried.

- I often feel much taller than I actually am - except when I am standing right beside someone taller or am trying to reach something on a high shelf. The same principle applies - I feel larger next to smaller people and smaller next to larger ones.

- clothing and what I'm carrying also changes how I move (just like my lean counterparts)

- I don't lounge, my car seat is set almost straight but I sit further back than my brother in law who has a similar height and weight - he leans the seat back but pulls closer. I don't nap. My leaner husband both lounges and naps.

- some fat folks eat, walk, and move quickly - some slowly; figuring out which your character does, when they behave "out of character", and why these are their preferences will go a long way to creating an authentic feeling fat character

- acne is a thing and learning to accept ones rolls and tummy aprons (and thus take care of them properly) is a common challenge; although many do it naturally without thinking much of it. You lift your breasts and wash underneath - you lift you belly and wash underneath.

- fat bodies have the same reactions as everyone else: they tingle, burn, get numb, get goose bumps, like to be touched in certain places and in certain ways, feel the breeze, get hot, get cold, shiver, stretch, relax, get aroused, feel release, hold tension, feel capable and strong, feel weak...no matter who you are sitting in a chair that's too small for you will put pressure on your body and feel uncomfortable or safe ..you can explore what that is like. Sometimes it is a reassuring sensation. Sometimes it is uncomfortable. This is the same for fat bodies. It just may happen more frequently and depending on your character's context and experience the emotional reaction / thoughts that are generated may be a bit different.

THINKING AND FEELING IN A FAT BODY.

I think I touched on some of this in some of the earlier sections...but here I want to talk a bit about my experience of being fat and my thoughts about it - your fat characters may or may not feel similarly...but my hope is that you at least think about options as opposed to only writing one or two types of fat character.

I mainly "feel" fat in moments when it is pointed out to me or I am limited in what I can do because of it

I quite like my body, it is my home and I feel very connected to it's features. In my experience this is unusual for many people in North American society regardless of actual body shape or weight. Sometimes I feel guilty for not hating my body the way "I am supposed to" and wonder vaguely if my body would be different if I could hate it more (although as I get older I doubt it).

I do feel some pressure to be a cheerful "good" fat person as a way to stay safe and survive.

Nothing makes people more uncomfortable than me calling myself fat without judgement or asking for accomodation matter of factly. It took me a long time to feel comfortable doing so, but I do it now all the time and it makes my life better.

I felt some pressure to be the fun friend who people feel comfortable eating whatever they wanted with and I often felt like I was depended on to order dessert so they could too. This may have been all in my mind though.

Fat bellies can be very intimate places.

Not all fat people have dieted, but many have. I was lucky enough to never be forced into a diet. I did try keto once but it was a bit intense and nuts so I stopped. I learned a bunch doing it though.

Medical people not treating you appropriately when your fat is 100% a thing.

Internalised fat hate and fat phobia is a thing for many fat people and it pops up at weird moments.

I don 't.give a damn about being in a bathing suit. As long as it fits and my boobs and butt.aren't.falling out - I am happy and feel very attractive. In fact I am probably at my most comfortable in a bathing suit or naked. My body is mine in both those instances.

To reach the "healthy weight" for my height - I would have to lose half of my body mass. That is a lot of me to loose. Embarking on something like that would be totally different than loosing 5 or 10 pounds. Trying to navigate the various medical opinions about whether being fat is bad or not is exhausting.

For me, being fat and older is easier than being fat and younger. This could easily be the opposite for someone else.

Some fat people are into sex, some are not . Some folks are into sex with fat people and some are not. Some are nice about it. Some are not. Some want nice. Some do not.

Fat people are all around you living their best life or their worst life or somewhere in between. We know we are fat. We sometimes care and sometimes don't.

Ok that's it. I don't know if it will help anyone or if it's just a collection of rambles - but at the end of the day...fat people are just people. We are not going to go away. We are all sorts. We are the heroes of our own stories. We are people who are loved, depended on, hated, ignored, and/or spotlighted.

Some fat people think about being fat all the time. Some rarely. Just please don't erase us or other us.

Just by taking the step to interrogate your own biases and any feelings / assumptions you have about fatness/thinness is a huge step and will help limit the harm you could unintentionally do to fat people...actually to all people. Like all forms of hate and intelorance - Fat hate hurts EVERYONE. I would argue it privileges a few...but even that can be excruciating for the individuals who strive to retain that priviledge. We need to dismantle it.

#writing #writing fat characters #fat phobia #fat hate #long post #personal #body neutrality #body posititivity #writing about bodies

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tom-foolery-incorporated · 9 days ago

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How did Shockwave train his human to take his big spike? I just read your Brainstorm x Reader fic (hot as FUCK I loved it) and it got me thinking about how it must've been frustrating at first for Shockwave trying to have sex with his human at his full size. I imagine he mass displaces or changes his spike? I wanna frag shockwave so bad but I also don't know how long I'd survive as a human fleshlight 😭

Could you maybe write something for that? Like Shockwave and his human being sexually frustrated and him accidentally edging himself trying to be gentle with his human? Maybe thighfucking or just the tip. Get creative please! I love your work and the most recent Shockwave x reader got me thinking 🙏💗

I’m sitting here kicking my feet and twirling my hair. Ty for liking my writing!!! It means a lot <3

Anyway…..

Shockwave x Reader, gender neutral AFAB, racially ambiguous, wet dreams, dirty talk, just the tip, reader gets used as a toy, thigh fucking

“Hnn! Shockwave!” Your cute moans echoed throughout your shared habsuite. Such soft flesh dimpled under Shockwave’s servo as he gripped your body.

“You’re doing so well,” Shockwave could hardly contain the steam moving through his vents, his entire frame covered in coolant.

Your juices pooled around the base of his spike. He was so proud of you for finally being able to take him to the base. The head of his spike making a delicious bump in your abdomen as your body tries to mold itself around him. He hoped he could carve your walls into the shape of his spike.

He pulled you up off of his spike, your legs curled up to your hips as you presented your stretched hole to your lover. Shockwave’s servo gripped around your waist tighter in a possessive hold. You gasped feeling him pull himself out to the tip of his spike before lowering you back down to the base with a wet squelch.

“Perfect,” Shockwave whispered. “My perfect pet.”

Shockwave pulled you off him once again before plunging his spike deep in you. He twisted his hips to tease the inside of your cunt with how his spike twitched and moved within you.

RECHARGE CYCLE COMPLETE

Shockwave’s optic blinked online. His processor worked overtime replaying his dream; it was so life like. He could feel your sleeping form curled up next to his helm. The nest of pillows and blankets you had made supporting your sleeping body atop Shockwave’s shoulder plating. He moved his optic down to look at his chasis before gazing at you from the side of his vision.

He knew it was physically impossible for you to take his spike to the base unless he looked into modding his frame. He would consider it but he still wanted to see just how much your body could take. Humans were surprisingly durable and Shockwave wanted to test just how durable your body could be when assaulted with pleasure.

You were so cute, so innocent, sleeping up against your big metal lover. Shockwave could almost forget the countless nights he’d had you stretched out over his digits or stuffed with as many toys as he could fit in you. Seeing how peaceful you were, no one would be any the wiser to how Shockwave had had you screaming his name and squirting by his doing. Shockwave pictures your sleeping face covered in his transfluids. He’d work his spike over you until you woke up to a pink surprise dripping all over you. He knows you’d be a good pet and clean him up. Your soft tongue licking at his spike trying to gobble up as much of his overload as you could.

What have you done to him? The Decepticons’ most feared scientist reduced to a simple pleasure bot for you.

Shockwave absentmindedly rubbed his helm against your sleeping body. What was just a small movement to him was enough of a nudging to wake you up. You groaned while grabbing onto Shockwave’s helm.

“Good morning,” Shockwave greeted raising a servo to stroke at your hair. “Did you have a restful recharge?”

You moved your hands to grab at Shockwave’s servo giving his hand a hug as you peppered kisses along his digit. “Mhm,” you said while rubbing your face against his servo. “Did you?”

Shockwave thought back to his dream. How wonderful it would be to have you spread wide on his spike. So tight he could barely move outside of shallow thrusts.

“I did indeed,” Shockwave replied.

“Have any dreams?” There was a knowing tone to your voice that made Shockwave’s finials twitch.

“I did dream,” Shockwave said curtly.

“Good dreams?”

“Yes.”

You climbed out of your blanket and pillow nest so you could stand on Shockwave’s chasis with your hands on either side of his optic. “Do you want to share with the class?” You teased.

“I believe ‘the class’ already has an idea as to what my dream entailed,” Shockwave ran his servo up your back.

“All I know is that you were venting pretty hard and praising me,” you ran one of your hands along the ridge of Shockwave’s optic.

“My apologies if I disturbed your recharge cycle,” Shockwave let his servo wander to your lower back where his entire hand encompassed your rear and upper thighs as well.

“It was hard not to wake you up,” you murmured with your lips brushing along the ridge of his optic. “I couldn’t help but touch myself hearing you so worked up.”

Shockwave let one of his digits slip between your legs and press up against your heat. “I’m offended you didn’t wake me to join you,” Shockwave teased pressing his finger up against your clothed arousal. You moaned grinding down on his digit. “You work so hard,” you purred pressing kisses along his optic screen. “I wanted you to get a full recharge.”

You slipped your hand down to grab Shockwave’s digit as you humped it. “My big strong scientist always working so hard.”

Shockwave’s engine rumbled at your praise. “Do you wish to know what my dream entailed?” Shockwave relaxed his servo letting you set the pace for how you humped his finger. “Please, Shockwave,” you moaned out.

“I had your human valve spread wide enough to take my spike to my pelvis,” Shockwave explained. “I used you like a spike sleeve.”

Your whole body shivered at the idea. “Mmm, I’d like that,” you murmured feeling a wet stain starting to form inside your underwear. “I want to be stretched out over your cock.”

Shockwave released his modesty plate letting his erect spike spring into the air. “I’m sure you would,” Shockwave said while moving his servo to tug at your pajama pants. “But I’d prefer to not have you injured.”

You whined frantically tugging at your pajama bottoms and underwear only to discard them somewhere to your right. Shockwave couldn’t help his amusement at how needy you had become. Your pubic hair glistening with your slick arousal.

“Your frustration is mutual,” Shockwave held onto your body as he sat up. Your nest falling apart and falling to the berth below.

You looked over your shoulder trying not to drool at how Shockwave’s spike bounced with his movement. “I need you inside me,” you whined as your hand dipped between your folds. Your clit was stiff in arousal as you rubbed it.

“Don’t begin to think that I’m not as desperate to penetrate you,” Shockwave’s chasis rumbled as he spoke. “Your body is very tempting.”

You whined as you leaned back against Shockwave’s servo with your legs spread so he could see how your fingers moved through your slick cunt.

The musk of your pussy hit his olfactory sensors causing a flush of steam to release from his vents. “I would like to propose an idea that may be mutually beneficial.”

“This is exactly where you belong,” Shockwave’s voice sounded desperate as he pulled you along his spike. Your pussy flush against the metal as your legs dangled uselessly. He had his servo wrapped around your torso with your arms pinned to your sides. While you had already cum, your pussy twitching sensitively as Shockwave took what he wanted from you, Shockwave hadn’t.

Your hole fluttered emptily still not satisfied without Shockwave inside of you. “Please!” You begged throwing your head back. You stared up at the underside of Shockwave’s chasis with your eyes half lidded. “Please I can take it! Just fuck me!”

Shockwave growled at your pleading fighting an internal fight with his own desperation and logic. He wanted so desperately to shove his spike as deep as it could go inside of you. He wants to see just how much you can take before you break. Yet every time his logic wins.

Shockwave continues grinding your cunt along his spike leaving a slick trail of your arousal along the metal shaft. His biolights pulsed in agitation so desperate to cum yet not having enough stimulation. “We can attempt penetration today,” Shockwave concluded. He had been training your hole fairly well or so says the display of increasingly large dildos on his shelf he had made for you.

You almost cried out in relief as Shockwave pulled your slick core from his shaft. A string of wet arousal broke as he lifted you away from his spike.

Using his canon arm, he held you against his abdomen as his servo dipped between your legs. Shockwave dipped in two of his digits making you moan out his name. You beautifully took both of his fingers into your greedy hole with a squelch. Shockwave’s spike twitched at the noise. You ran your hands along his canon gripping onto whatever points you could find as he stretched your hole and fucked his fingers into you.

“I would like to set expectations,” Shockwave said while adding another digit into you. “You will not be able to take me to my base. However I will consider any form of penetration a win on our part.”

Shockwave spread his digits making you hiss in both pain and pleasure. Your poor hole was stretched to its limit and yet seemed to still beg for more. He pulled his digits out of your hole slowly so you could feel every inch of his metal fingers. They exited your wet pussy with a slorping noise making you wince in embarrassment and Shockwave’s engine rumble in pleasure.

“You are exceptionally wet,” Shockwave showed you how your slick clung to his fingers like clear slime. “I believe this is as exciting for you as it is for me.” You grabbed Shockwave’s servo guiding his metal hand to your mouth so you could lick your arousal off his fingers. “Good, pet,” Shockwave tilted his optic so he could better see you over his chasis. Pride thrummed within his spark seeing you so well trained as to clean his servo without him asking. Your soft lips sucking along his digits as your tongue peeked out to lick up and around his fingers cleaning your slick off of him.

“Are you ready?” Shockwave dragged the back of his knuckle over your cheek tenderly. You could hardly contain yourself as you spread your legs as wide as they could go. “Please, Shockwave!” You begged holding your folds open with your fingers. “I just want you inside me!”

Shockwave groaned leaking transfluid down his painfully erect spike. He grabbed around your waist teasingly dragging your cunt along his shaft once more before turning you around in his servo so you were facing him. The tip of his spike pulsed against your cunt smearing pink transfluid around your folds. You eagerly reached down to rub at his spike in worship earning a thrust against your pussy.

“If we are unable to initiate penetration, do not feel you are inadequate my pet,” Shockwave assured you. You nodded holding your pussy open in excitement. The tip of his spike kissed at your pulsing hole. He pushed forward gently trying to stuff you full but only ended up gliding his cock through your sopping vulva. “Shockwave,” you whined arching your hips at a better angle. “Behave,” Shockwave tided as he attempted to push into you once more. The very end of his spike hooked onto your hole making you moan out in absolute bliss.

Shockwave’s optic remained trained on the barely an inch of his spike he managed to push into you. He pressed further watching how your face contorted in a mixture of pain and pleasure. Your hole struggled around his girth spasming as your own juices bubbled around his cock.

“Well done,” Shockwave could hardly contain his own moan at the sight. Half of his tip was inside of your tight little hole. Your breathing was frantic as you squirmed in his hold. Your temperature was scorching causing your body to dampen with sweat. “It’s so good!” You moaned out humping the head of his spike. Shockwave’s vents fluttered in bliss as his optic glitched.

“Are you capable of taking more?” Shockwave’s venting was becoming heavy. You were finally here, stretched wide enough to take his spike without any mass displacement or mods. “Please! Please!” You begged your words stringing together in an alphabet soup of praise. “Do not push yourself past your limits,” Shockwave warned before pushing the rest of his cock’s head inside of you.

You felt something inside of you snap as you came from the sensation of being so stretched out alone. Shockwave groaned feeling your walls tighten around him like you were trying to push his massive cock out. He kept your body steady holding his tip firmly in place inside of you. “You are doing wonderfully, pet,” Shockwave moaned giving you an experimental thrust.

You screamed out his name feeling your limbs turn to gelatin from the stimulation. He gave another gentle buck of his hips wanting to hear more of your blissed out noises. Tears strewed down your face as you stared up at Shockwave in disbelief. You had never felt this full your entire life. You were sure he was going to break you and by god did that sound delightful. You hoped Shockwave broke you mind and body only for you to become a sloppy wet toy for him to fuck.

“You take spike exceedingly well,” Shockwave purred pulling you off of the tip of his cock before lowering you once again. You moaned stupidly your brain only able to process the feeling of having your hole so thoroughly stretched beyond its limits. “I am excited to share this information with Soundwave as well.” You became increasingly wetter at the mention of the other bot Shockwave enjoyed sharing you with. “He has requested updates on your training,” Shockwave said satisfied with your fucked out form. “I believe he would enjoy a turn once I am finished.”

You could only nod and drool as Shockwave used your hole as his own personal spike sleeve. Your juices leaking down his spike with a mixture of his transfluids. He could feel his valve clenching in delight at finally feeling that pit within his abdomen that told him he was close. “What is that phrase you use in your human pornography?” Shockwave groaned. “Cumdump?” He pushed forward forcing you to take more of his spike as he released deep within your core. You cried as a spray of squirt erupted from your pussy then dribbled into a pathetic stream. Shockwave kept the head of his spike buried inside of you as he released his overload into your welcoming body. Pink transfluid leaked around his spike dripping out of your fucked out hole and onto his lap.

You sobbed feeling his warm transfluid so deep within you. You rubbed over your abdomen where you felt your womb was. “Beautiful,” Shockwave praised slowly pulling his spike out of you. “You performed far past my expectations.” You shoved your fingers into your stretched hole trying to plug up your cunt to keep any transfluid from leaking out of you. “I see you know your place,” Shockwave lifted you up to his optic as he watched you finger fuck his overload back inside of yourself sloppily. “I will prepare you a bath and a heating pad for your groin. You did very well today, my pet.”

#transformers #transformers x reader #shockwave x reader #valveplug #maccadam #shockwave valveplug #shockwave #transformers smut

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