#the man is gigantic and so broad-shouldered

[thisvisionofmyspirit]

one of my favorite sensations in the world is seeing someone live for the first time and realizing how fucking tall they are so let's just say my first sleep token ritual, whenever that is, is going to be An Experience™

[asce-of-hearts]

repair man toji...

You remember that one time someone told you that before living alone, you should get a small tool kit and learn the basics of repairing electrodomestics.

Well, that clearly is shit advice, because now you're sitting in front of your broken kitchen sink, pieces everywhere. So, with your pride torn to shambles, you finally decide to call a repair service. Fortunately, the lady on the phone is sweet enough to understand your urgency, and sends someone right away.

As soon as you hear the knock on your door, you're running towards the door. You expect to find a regular plumber, instead, you're faced with two pecs the size of your face. And you look up, up, up, feeling smaller and smaller as you finally find the face of the guy the agency sent. He's big, no, big is an understatement. He is enormous, gigantic, barely able to not hit himself on the head as he looks down at you. His hair is messy, black bangs that cover his forehead. The uniform is too tight on him, you can tell by the way it almost pleads for you to free it of its suffering as it tries its hardest to stay together while gripping his enormous arms. And his eyes, mossy green. He has that look that he's done with everything, maybe he is, the way he cocks a brow and that scar over his lip stretches as he speaks.

"Did you need the service or...?" His words almost make you jump. With a quick nod you apologize and let him in, guiding him to the kitchen and showing him the little mess you made.

"I- I tried to follow a tutorial on youtube but... that clearly didn't work." You mumble, a sheepish smile over your face. He smirks, gently pushing you aside as he crouches down to examine your previous work.

"Don't worry 'bout that. I'll take care of it." He says, and gets to work immediately. Your eyes zero on his broad back, the way you can almost see the muscles as he loosens and fastens and does stuff to the intricate machinery of the pipes underneath your sink. How the veins in his arms pop up.

"So, uhm... you like your work as... as a repair guy..." You awkwardly try and make small talk, he only gives you a small hum in response.

"Not particularly." He says, and you have to force yourself to not look further downwards at where his pants seem to be stretched to the limit.

"Ah. That- That sucks?"

"Pays the bills. Couldn't strive for anything better anyways."

You're frozen in place, not knowing what else to do or say to distract yourself from the thoughts that plague your mind. The angel and the devil over your shoulders both screaming the same thing.

FUCK HIM. FUCK THIS GUY. FUCK HIM!!!!

His work ends sooner than you would've liked. And he leaves as soon as you pay him. His eyes lingering on places they shouldn't enough for you to notice, just a bit. Slightly disappointed, you make your way to the kitchen sink. Now working perfectly.

But you can for sure manage to break it again. Can't you?

The next thing to misteriously break after his service is your shower. You call the same agency, and plead for them to send the same guy. Toji, you got his name through the phone, and he will quickly be on his way.

Strangely, a pair of lacy, black underwear is left on the bathroom floor. Oh, how clumsy on your behalf, really. He gives you a playful smile that tries to disguise the lusty intent behind his eyes, and you can see the bulge that has you salivating. Surely it won't do no harm to have him stay for lunch, right? After all he has been just so good, and coming two days in a row must be an exhausting task.

So, when it's the fourth time this week that something has broken inside your apartment, and you have gotten his personal phone to have him come aid you. He decides to teach you himself.

"You wanna know how to repair a bed?" He grins, predatory. And your eyes widen, confused.

"My bed isn't—"

Those words have died long inside your mouth long ago as Toji pounds your little hole with the force of a man who hates you. Even when it's quite the opposite, he hates the little games you have played, when you could've had him in your bed since the very beginning. He would've never refused a slutty little thing like you.

"You were sayin'?" He grunts in your ear, slapping your ass hard as he forces your face further into the mattress with his hand. Ass up, face down, just how he likes it. And he continues, the incessant plapping and slapping of wet skin against wet skin making everything around you spin in circles that have you oh so dizzy. And his hands, they rest on your scalp, pulling you to force your back into the lewdest arch as he makes you squirt over your already soiled sheets. Cum leaking from your pretty cunt in industrial quantities. "Maybe I'll hafta fix you this time. You're so stupid and cock-drunk already." Another smack to your ass, and you're howling as your insides constrict his cock with force, not wanting him to pull out ever again.

The rough pads of his fingers come to toy with your clit, to squeeze and pull and pinch at your pretty nipples. He's grinning, he's a wolf, he's ruthless.

"You like ex-convict cock that much, dirty girl?" He croons, and you nod, drooling as he continues to ravage you at a fast and hard pace. "Say it, mama. Tell me how much you love my dick."

"I- I luv— So good, Toji—!" You manage to slurr out, making him thrust harder if that was even possible. Pumping another load inside your womb. The tip of his cock smooching your cervix time and time again.

And then you hear it, and you scream when the bed gives in to his force and finally collapses on the ground. At least you're safe and secure in Toji's arms. Breathing heavily, sweaty, sticky, and his.

"This... this service is on the house." He murmurs, staring at your pretty, fucked out face.

TAG LIST

TOJI M.LIST

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[b00tyliciousbabe]

munch

bisexualbigboybf! x THICC!male reader

summary: manifesting my future husband

notes: THANKS FOR 1k ppl dem! BEEN IN DRAFTS FOR A WHILE. i think there needs to be some more love + appreciation for bi men and big boys so i amalgamated the two. not a fetish y’all, just a preference, they be taking care of my inner princess and for that i will ALWAYS be grateful. a lot of feminisation in this one so tread carefully. it’s a lil messy (jumps in tenses and stuff like that) but i litch couldn’t focus without getting too excited. ENJOY MY HEARTS.

song rec: normani - big boy (feat. starrah)

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your big boy bf didn’t think he had a chance with you at first, nor did he even want one. at first he hated you, watching how all the other men in your life were one flirty conversation away from having a piece of your juicy ass, and how the girls envied and coveted your thick hourglass figure. your sweet personality sickened him ; you made sure to give them your gym routine and your diet, being the beauty guru you were. but what he realised, was not that he hated you, but that he hated not having you. when he realised this, he needed you, more than anything.

you embodied a refreshing style of hyper femininity that made you all the more attractive to your bi man. seeing your body in its thick glory made him love himself more. how your belly added to your voluptuous figure, your plump cheeks, and fleshy muscle surrounding your chest and thighs, he was mesmerised by your form. you were, in his eyes, divine. little did he know that you had fallen first; his broad shoulders, strong biceps and pudgy belly practically had you ovulating. your gigantic teddy bear, standing at a foot taller than you, had a heart of gold and this protective aura around him, enamoured you.

when you debuted your relationship online, you were met with a flurry of mainly positive responses. yeah sure there were the odd few denouncing your femininity and body shaming y’all, but you ignored them because you don’t have to convince the world that you’re THEE baddie b and your man is the sexiest mf to ever exist.

luvagoalz: they are literally the embodiment of the wattpad height difference. I NEED.

user222: y/n getting dicked down DAILY by a giant is so girlboss of him.

sza: bestie got himself a big boy - y/n send me the deets for the wedding.

your bf is a huge gym rat and when you two became exclusive, your already voluptuous figure became all the more defined with his help. you were flawless. you love seeing him in the gym, sweating as the veins in his forearms pop out making him look so attractive. he definitely enjoys your company there, teasingly rubbing his bulge against your ass and face when no one was watching. his exhibitionist kink goes crazy seeing how beautifully your workout clothes hug your butt and cinch your waist. he used to be slightly insecure about his stretch marks but after a cool down session, and you complimenting them like lightning bolts imprinted on his skin, he felt superhuman. you always knew what to say to make him feel better.

he’s so protective of you. always sleeps on the side closest to the door and isn’t afraid to send someone to hospital if they even look at you the wrong way, or in a manner he doesn’t like. in his mind he’s seeded you and you’re literally carrying his kids and thus it’s his responsibility to protect you. it’s almost primal. he isn’t controlling or anything, but finds it incredibly important to remind you that with him you are completely safe.

they say the best way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, and boy was that the case during your talking stage. it was perfect; you love to cook and so he’s more than happy to try your baked goods. your boyfriend loves his sleep on the weekends and so in true house husband fashion you often prepare breakfast in an apron with your thick cheeks hanging out from behind. one day he woke up to the sweet smell of you making his favourite. groggily stumbling into the kitchen, he rubbed the sleep from his eyes, long dick swinging out of his briefs as he advanced towards you.

‘good morning love.’ his deep voice sent shivers down your spine as he kissed the words into your neck. he held onto the groove of your hips, caressing your lower back with the tip of his index finger and watched as you writhed beneath him. ‘babe, what are you doing up? you need your sleep, you’ve been working so hard lately.’ you said, breathing haphazardly as he ground himself into you. ‘i missed you. and i want my morning kisses.’ beginning to untie your apron he turned you around, and removed the lace from around your neck. hiking you up on the table top, the heat of your bare ass, that his dick previous massaged into you, was cooled by the granite. you wrapped your legs around him, as your hands stroked his beard. wiping that shit eating grub off of his face, your lips came closer to his own, as you could feel his heartbeat in his throat - this man is so in love with you. the kiss lasted quite a while, precum staining the opening of his boxers and pooling on your thighs. you knew that you were about to be fucked dumb and so you turned of the hob to avoid burning the house down. the fire inside y’all was more than enough to keep you going.

your man doesn’t fully realise his own strength. he was very hesitant to have sex with you for a while and mostly stopped at groping you before his dick got too hard to ignore. so, for your first time, he had to refrain literally ripping your clothes to get to the prize of your nudity. he absolutely loves seeing you (try to) deepthroat. the reason? his size kink goes insane when you attempt to take his gigantic package. this man is LONG and GIRTHY, capable of splitting you in half and abusing all your spots with ease. the veiny sausage he’s packing could do some serious damage but he held back when it came to your first couple times with him.

he always takes time to ensure that your safe and comfortable. initially his size intimidated you, your mannerisms connoting your subtle anxiety. he kissed the fear out of you, reassuringly saying, ‘you know I would never do anything to hurt you.’

your boyfriend is the KING of consent, always ensuring that you want his big cock just as much as he wants to feel the warmth of your boy pussy. one day whilst he was working from home, he noticed you squirming like an omega in heat. he sighed and smirked. ‘d’you want me to fuck you?’ he burst out. already used to his blunt disposition, you nodded. advancing closer towards you, staring down at the desperation in your face, he stroked your hair. ‘use your words y/n, i wanna hear how badly you want it.’ his charisma practically had you high. ‘I need you, please.’ you began to undo the string that held up his joggers, as he removed his tshirt. ‘i can never say no to my baby boy.’ he smiled, pants bunching at his ankles as he slowly railed on the edge of your shared bed.

he encourages you to take him fully each time, praising you because no one else had been able to take him past halfway. ‘i know baby, i know, do it one more time for me.’ he said endearingly, wiping the tears from your face as his dick invaded your throat.‘THERE IT ISSS UGH FUCK! i love your mouth.’ he cooed.

equally, your bf is the only man you’ve been with that’s been able to satisfy you sexually. you steered clear from all the men who were only interested in your body and not your heart and so you had very minimal experience outside of toys and your hands. the few you may or may not have been with were damn near clueless. on the other hand…your man has had plenty of hoe phases. it sly bugged you how he’d been intimate with a greater number you could’ve imagined but all that disappeared when he first made love to you. the best thing about him is that he can handle allat that ass. despite the clear size difference this doesn’t stop you from being a FREAK. He even encourages it. loving your thick globes of ass flesh kiss his lower belly as you push back and twerk all over his dick. his favourite part of your shape are your hips. he wants to breed you full of his children.

whenever he says ‘fuck yeah baby, back that shit up.’ it sends you orbital. it’s well known that the two of you share a huge affinity for doggy. the way you stroke his pudginess while he rails you in that position has become a safety mechanism - one that he has learnt to make the experience all the more enjoyable. with one hand holding you up (realistically struggling to, under the sheer passion of his fucking) and the other one bent behind your back fingering his belly button. his huge dick borderline tears you open and by grabbing onto him makes you feel safe. he usually recognises that it’s getting a bit too much when your moans become screams, and you get tighter. and as much as he loves seeing you overstimulated and fucked out on his cock, he doesn’t wanna break you (completely). so he slows down, soothing your pain with sweet nothings and his large hands massaging your ass cheeks.

for him personally though, he loves to smush you underneath his weight. in prone bone, he has direct access to your ear, whispering words of affirmation but degrading you with the grip of his arms around your neck. his beard hair softly touching your cheek, causing a wave of bliss to hit you, always gets him going. he knows you love hearing him praise you; his grunts are so delectable, a symphony with the percussion of him clapping tf outta your cheeks. as you whine like a lil bitch, they become guttural, like an alpha in his rut. the carnal passion of your heavier and rougher sessions reveal a callous side to his possessive nature. dangerous how much it turns you on.

words can’t really describe how much you love his stomach, happy trail adorning his belly, and riding him offers you the opportunity to see allat that on a platter. his smirk as he tries to contain his excitement that your his and only his.

on the topic of eye contact, you’re favourite mutual position is definitely missionary - your bf adores every inch of you. how your body becomes compliant. your hole crafted to take his big dick. the way it pierces through the walls of your pussy, massaging your gumminess. he sometimes drools from how lost he can be in the experience. ‘take my cock, yhhh baby, fuckkkk.’

slowing down his jack hammering pace, he’d lean forward with his low hanging balls rutting into you agonizingly slow.

‘you like that shit, huh baby? yeah? loving on my dick so well.’ whispering as he begins to mark your collarbone. then moving upwards onto your neck, massaging your previously pummeled throat as you looked up, desperate to kiss him. he exhales into your mouth, breathing life into you that he had taken away with his hard thrusts. his softness escaped as quickly as it arose, thrusting his entire load into you.

‘shit’ you scream as he laughs hoarsely, the rasp in his voice a melting honey.

in the same position, you love his cum face. something about how his eye and nose scrunch as he pants and grunt deeply. his beard ticking your chin. it also allows him to be vulnerable with you. he would hold your head cradling it with an affection rivalled only by how sweetly his tip kisses your prostate with each lengthy thrust. when he first enters, he’s checking to see if your okay, if you want more lube. you say no. legs just above his hips, you bring your hand to stroke his beard as he concentrates on directing his dick in a way that doesn’t make him cum immediately upon re entry.

‘i love you.’ you say getting all emotional from how well he’s treating you. ‘I love you too y/n.’ he leans down for more kisses as your hand now snakes around the back of his head.

he stops, letting you catch your breath, playing with your hair and caressing your face lovingly. your arms drop immediately at the warmth of his touch. he lifts and cradles your head, a delicacy opposing his rough demeanour.

‘I fucking love you,’ your bf grunts, placing forehead kisses, panting, as he starts moving faster. your legs now wrapped tightly around his abdomen like a vice. he plants both hands behind your head, balling his fists at either side of your head to create the perfect foundation to fuck you hard. brings one of his hands to cradle your hair and to bring your head closer to his. your temples meet ensuring that you’re so close and intimate. the man brings his body up, still inside you, collects your legs together, one leg on each shoulder holding onto the thick flesh of your upper thighs, allowing you to adjust, before toppling over onto you again to get deeper inside your pussy. later, moving his hands up to behind your knees, his rugged fingertips grip the flesh of your hamstrings.

your boyfriend brings his fingers up to stroke your cheeks and remove the hair sticking to your face. he’s growling at his need to go ham, but he exercises self-control as a means to take care of you. however, what he doesn’t realise is that his painfully slow strokes transport you to a utopia of bodily ecstasy.

he ABSOLUTELY loves seeing the imprint of his girthy cock in your stomach, pressing down on it to add to your respective pleasures. and when you both reach the top of the mountain, the visual of you being completely fucked out on his huge pole, as it protrudes through your stomach which is now decorated with your own personal release, makes him wanna rail you again. and again. until you pass out or his dick becomes limp. the latter would never happen because wherever you are, that cocks gonna be UP.

aftercare is so underrated with him. in his past relationships, it was usually a hit and quit it situation - his words not mine. thus he didn’t really know what to do at first. he’s so used to hookup culture, that he never bothered. but with you, he knew he had to change; one, because he knew you’d never let him near you again if he didn’t take care of you, but mainly two, because you were his and he had a responsibility to cherish you. considering you literally couldn’t walk and body was limp, your man needed to ensure you were taken care of. though he always reassures you, you make sure to do the same. the first time you spooned him he slept like a baby. BIG BOYS NEED CUDDLES TOO Y’ALL.

he gets really apologetic, constantly asking ‘did I go to rough.’ as he massages the bruises on your hips. sometimes feels guilty that he fucks you too hard. You put his mind at ease telling him that you do like it. your bubble butt and tight hole were made to take his cock.

this still doesn’t stop him from confessing to you; ‘baby, I’m so sorry.’ he kisses your skin. ‘when I see that ass if yours jiggle, it drives me crazy, I just can’t stop.’ it often leads to him overcompensating. as the his cum seeps out of your obliterated cunt. he just wants to make you feel safe. the same safety he feels when he’s with you.

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tag list:

@gayaristocrat

@ghostking4m

@lysanderplume

[wettvagina]

'ON THAT BITCH'

warnings: p in v , creampie , cowgirl , reverse cowgirl , backshots a/n: a short smut on how aot men fuck you, took a break from tumblr cuz I had tests for like 2 weeks but theyre finally over so im back & im readyyyyyy so be prepared for a lot of smut

EREN

noww, first and foremost, we all know eren gives the most toecurling, stomach flipping, pussy clenching backshots known to man, he'll put his foot up on the bed, that way his dick is angled to dig even deeper into your damp pussy. & dont start on the shit he says, you know he's praising you from behind as he watches your ass recoil onto him...on a good day. on a bad day however, he'll slut you out like he fucking owns you, im talking about fucking you like an animal, he'll make you cum so much times you'll literally collapse, but he's still fucking you, he'd slap your ass so much times that it'd turn red.

"Fuckkkk!" you moaned out, "Stop- stop, it's too much." you wailed, hands trembling as you grip onto the white sheets, "Oh stop, Now you want me to stop." he laughs behind you, increasing the pace at which he's thrusting into you, you orgasmed for the third time literally five minutes ago, and this man would not rest. "Fuck- I'm sorry." you cry, "Please just-" you cut off yourself with a choking moan, "-slow down." you whimper as your knees began aching, he had you face down, ass up for one hour straight, his dick plunging in and out of your pussy repeatedly, round after round, the vehement thrusts at the start now turned into rough, sloppy pounding as he punished you for disturbing him while he was on his game. "Shit." Eren moaned behind you, grabbing at one cheek with his left hand and slapping the fuck out of your other cheek with his right hand. You barely processed anything besides the expanding string in your stomach, tightening once again, "Oh shit, I'm gonna-" upon hearing those words, Eren pounded into you relentlessly, driving you towards your climax, for the fourth time tonight. "Yeah, c'mon." Eren groaned as he felt your pussy clamp around his dick, causing his thrusts to stuttuer, he screwed his eyebrows together as he clenched his jaw, "Fuck, fuck, fuck." he muttered as he came inside of you, he felt the moistness of both his come and yours coat his cock. He scoffed as he gave your ass one last slap, watching how your weak knees finally gave out.

ARMIN

armin is a whiny little bitch, duhh, yeah his dick is gigantic but he acts like it's a needle or something, afraid to even be the slightest bit rough with you, sorry to say but he cannot fuck you to save his own life, like he acts like such a virgin you literally have to do the work by yourself, and honestly maybe you kinda enjoy it, he enjoys it more though and you can tell, from the way his eyes were looking up at you, as his fingers dug into the flesh of your waist, he'd moan like a bitch in heat and sometimes even cry when you overstimulate him.

"N-no, not again." he whimpers from below you, "Fuck you mean not again, you make me do all the work so I'm gonna help myself out too." you groan, bouncing on his dick with your feet flat on the ground, Armin had came in you already but you didn't even come once, so of course you were gonna use him until you came. "Shit-- slow down." you hear him whine beneath you as he uses his hands to slow your movements. You halt at your movements and you could feel Armin's breaths slow, your knees dug into the ground and you placed your hands on his broad shoulders, using the strength of your knees, you pushed yourself up and down his length before simply settling yourself on his cock, you looked down at him before you started grinding onto his length, "Shitt." you moaned as your hips traced onto his skin, you heard Armin groan under you as you neared your orgasm, he felt himself near his climax too, and with a final draw of your hips you creamed on his cock, your eyes rolled back into your head as Armin's whines and moans filled the room.

JEAN

lets get one thing straighttt, jean has a horse cock, it's literally massive, like gut tearing, but definitely a pleasure weapon, usually you'd enjoy it when he fucks you in missionary or maybe even in a mating press, you enjoy doggy too. but his alltime favorite was reverse cowgirl, for obvious reasons. he loveddd to watch you bounce on him and enjoyed seeing your ass jump each time you landed, eventually when you were tired he'd thrust up into you to get the job done.

Your back dimples were all that Jean eyed before his gaze lingered down onto your plump ass, he'd watch as you bounced on his cock, your ass slapping onto the skin of his lower stomach, he'd groan beneath you as you rested your chin on your own shoulder to look back at him, once your eyes met he smirked, causing you to pivot your hips, his dick was stretching you and you felt it all in your stomach in this position, your eyelids grew heavy and you started grinding onto his dick, moaning as you held onto his knees to weakly bounce onto his cock, "Tired, ma?" he questioned, holding onto your hips before he fucked up into you, making you whine at his sudden movement in your pussy, he fucked into your hole at a godly pace and you felt yourself tighten around his dick when you felt the vein in his cock pulse, you squirted all over his cock as he slowed his thrusts, his moist cock, drawing out of you.

[jasontoddsdarling]

perihelion

— pairing: red hood x female reader

— words: 2,9k

— tags: smut 18+, naked female clothed male, cunnilingus (jason is a pussy eater and i meant it here), size differences*, size kink, rough sex, vaginal sex, belly bulge, overstimulation, creampie, fluff at the end

*❗content warning: repeated (and i meant repeated) descriptions about their size differences, so proceed with caution! it's going to be excessive lol so if it's not your cup of tea you can skip this one :)

"Red." 

She whimpers pathetically, eyes blurry with unshed tears as she looks down at the man situated in between her wide open thighs.

Red Hood's tongue delves into her pussy, eating her out like a man starving. Maybe he is. Because it's been… what? Thirty minutes? And he hasn't stopped. Not even for stretching his massive body or something. Not for one second, even.

His lips keep making out with her cunt. 

She's overly sensitive. 

But by hearing her mewling his name it spurs him on, for he's sucking her clit hard with a low groan.

Her hips shot high. She will probably reach the ceiling of her room if Red Hood's hands on her hips aren't holding her down.

"Red! Ohmygodohmygodohmygod!"

She sobs, orgasm wrecking her body like a ship against gigantic waves. Tears falling down her face in rivulets, dampening her soft pink pillowcase.

She can hear Red Hood shuffling now, by the sound of the fabric of her bedding against his clothes.

"You said you want to take my cock whole and not just half to three quarters," he says, voice hoarse, "I should prepare you thoroughly to make that possible. And multiple orgasms seem to prepare your tiny pretty pussy better indeed."

He proves his point by sweeping his fingers around her pussy opening, gathering her arousal.

"Look at this."

He's showing his shiny fingers to her. 

"Look at you gushing for me. All for me, isn't that true, princess?"

"Yes, Red. All for you."

Red Hood smiles, eyes glittering with wickedness and blown wide with lust behind his mask.

Red Hood quickly works, removing his belt and thigh holsters and dragging his trousers and briefs down above his knees.

He positions his leaking fat cock on her entrance, moving it up and down that at some point the angry red tip catches inside her.

She jerks at that, letting out a gasp. Her body always seems to forget how big he is compared to her.

Red Hood doesn't seem to notice because now he's placing his cock on her entire mound, his tip rests right above her navel. She shudders at the image both of them create. 

He is so massive. It should make her feel wary or something, she thinks, but she just feels that she's being taken care of and protected by this masked vigilante. A man that's capable of eradicating crime without mercy in Gotham streets is also able to worship her body and make her feel safe whenever she's with him, making her feel so wanted.

See, her thoughts have wandered into deeper territory she doesn't wish to visit—at least not right now anyway, when the man above her is about to be balls deep inside of her.

She directs her mind to the present.

Red Hood rubs his cock on her pussy, slathering the underside with her arousal from the orgasms he has drawn from her. 

"I'm not doing my job well if you're able to leave me alone and busy with your thoughts."

"Huh?"

She doesn't think Red Hood realizes that, she's pretty sure she was just lost in her mind for some milliseconds.

Red Hood removes himself from the top of her. She is about to protest but he swiftly sits on his haunches and pumps his cock with his precum and the wet underside of his cock from her arousal, slathering the moistures all over his cock.

Before knowing it, he has positioned himself back above her body.

She knows if hypothetically there's a mirror on her ceiling, she's only able to see his broad shoulders and toned body on the reflection—maybe her thighs if she opened them wide but that's it—because this massive man just simply covers her smaller torso with his. And she likes it more than she ever should.

Red Hood eases his tip inside of her and she feels the relief of having a part of him in her.

She closes her eyes as he keeps feeding her pussy with his cock. 

She can feel the slight pleasant ache that indicates he's working himself deep inside of her. He's probably almost all in now, she thinks.

But when she opens her eyes he's only about halfway inside.

Red Hood's expression indicates that he's holding back, pleasure written all over his face. 

But he is nothing if not relentless, keep pushing hips and drawing back, trying to ease the process. He keeps stuffing her with the rest of his cock centimeter by centimeter.

When he's like four fifths inside her, he groans her name.

"Princess. You're–" he groans, "you're always so tight. But I think this is the tightest you've ever been." 

She preens at his dirty talk. 

"It's you that is so big, Red. Why are you so big, so so big."

Tears gathered in her eyes at the sensation of his fat cock almost fully nestled inside of her. She has never felt like this, so full and whole. And he hasn't even all the way in.

And it's true. He's very considerable, and definitely the biggest one she has ever taken. The first time they're doing this—it was two months after he was wounded in her fire escape and kept visiting her weekly since then, just hanging out and mindlessly talking with her after his patrol—Red Hood was only able to put one third of his cock inside of her because he was afraid he was going to break her, even though she was begging him to just put the rest of it inside. Afterwards he was making it up to her by eating her out until she couldn't feel her thighs because of how he was holding her down so she couldn't squirm away from his ministrations.

Red Hood growls in her ear, cupping her tit and harshly playing with her nipple.

"You're flattering me so much, my sun."

My sun. Her nickname from him after learning the meaning of her name. It makes her feel buzzing that has nothing to do with him currently working his cock to be buried deep inside of her body.

Red Hood swaps his fingers with his hot mouth, his teeth pulling at her peaked brown nipple. 

"Ah!"

Red Hood puts his forehead on hers.

His minty breath fanning her hair as he stuffs the rest of his cock while also keeps distracting her from the stretch by circling her areola with her tongue and sucking on her nipple and globe of tit—leaving hickeys, switching between right to left.

Until he accomplishes the thing that she has wanted since the first time they slept together: the entirety of his fat cock inside of her pussy.

"Redredredredoh."

She feels intense stretch and pleasure she has never felt before, feeling his cock stretch her and the length of it reach a part inside her no one has ever been able to go. 

She feels so incredibly full.

"That's it. It's all in. You take all of my cock. Your tiny cunt is able to swallow all of me."

Red Hood kisses the rivulets that sliding down her cheek away, licking them clean.

She squeezes her inner muscles at the praises and the gesture and he groans, deep rumbles of sound from his chest.

She can feel every ridge of his cock, his veins rubbing deliciously against her walls. 

She has to bite her lips to contain her mewls.

"We're a tight fit. You're so good for me, so perfect."

She moans at his praises. 

Curious, she looks down at the part where they're joined.

A tiny gasp leaves her at the sight. 

Her lower stomach has a bulge from his cock residing inside.

Red Hood touches the indentation on her lower stomach, pressing on where his cock is nestled deep in her. 

"Look where I am inside of you."

He says as he keeps the pressure on her skin.

"You're–you're so deep."

She breathes out, seeing the proof of how different their bodies are—how big, how massive he is compared to her regular size, sending minds into so many directions.

He caresses the bump with his hand like it's the first time he has ever witnessed this. 

"It's the first time I have ever left something like this."

He says as if he knows what she's thinking about. 

"You're so beautiful like this."

She whimpers, her blown wide dark brown eyes seeing his beautiful rugged face above her. Even though he's always with his mask, his beauty has never been able to be obscured by it.

Red Hood kisses her deep, his mask digging on her face. His arms beside her head are strained, holding his body from crushing her smaller one.

His kiss is bruising, his teeth scraping against her upper and lower lips equally. He swipes his tongue, demanding an entrance to her mouth that she immediately grants. His tongue swipes hers, their saliva strings connected and messy between their lips.

Red Hood starts to move his hips, drawing his cock in and out of her in an experimental thrust, his fingers rubbing on her engorged clit. She lets out a pleasurable sigh.

Seeing her body has adjusted to the feel of his entire length intruding her slick walls, he repeats the motion much quicker and she screams at how her throbbing pussy being speared over and over again by his thick cock, always managed to be balls deep and bottoming out inside of her tight cunt everytime.

Her hand tugs on the silky strands of his dark hair.

"You're created for me, made for taking my cock nice and whole."

Red Hood says each word in between each of his deep thrusts. He grunts on her ears, the sounds making her cunt gushing. 

Her eyes roll to the back of her head by the carnal pleasure of his heavy thrusts and his dirty praises. 

She sobs on his shoulder, long black hair wildly fanning on her soft pink pillow and her bed.

But instead of telling him to slow down, she tells him, "Harder, please. Give your all."

Red Hood always obliges her, she doesn't have to ask him twice. That's what he wants as well, but he wanted to build up the pleasure. But her asking him to do so without his initiative, it just spurs him on.

He plows her cunt roughly, the drags of his thick cock and its ridges sets her nerves on fire. She accepts the pleasure borderline on oversensitivity gladly. She takes them all like a champ. Partly because it's a hassle to thrust up her hips against his powerful one but also because she wants this, badly. 

Beads of his sweats rolling down his cheeks, dropping on his light stubble and dropping on her tits. He swipes it away, fondling her tits and squeezing them. He pinches the erect peak and then closes his mouth on one of them, biting it hard. She cries, an orgasm tearing out of her by him, again for the nth time tonight.

"Red, you're so big, so deep. So deep." 

She babbles the only words she can only think of at this time. 

Her mind is completely blank with the way his cock keeps making space inside of her deeper and deeper as if it's still possible. 

"So big, oh God. Big. So thick… my tiny cunt." 

She looks like she's delirious with the height he brings her, the words that will make her hide her face with her hands if she ever remembers she ever speaks of them. 

His chest rumbles at her mindless dirty praises to him, his eyes almost rolling to the back of his head, his sacks drawn tighter, preparing to blow his massive loads. 

If she keeps praising him like this with the cute and ethereal blissed out face of hers, messy but glowing black hair tangling on his fingers, and glistening skin of hers, he isn't sure he's able to hold on longer. He has been holding his orgasm since he was eating her out hours ago.

"Where do you want me, angel?"

Red Hood asks, grunting and panting above her. 

"Inside, please. Please cum inside of me, Red."

Red Hood growls at her consent and then draws his hips for the last time sending a deep, deep harsh thrust—that will send her head knocking against her headboard if he isn't currently clutching her hips to the point of bruising—until he's fully sheathed and bottoming out inside of her, the deepest he has been tonight, both of them sure—then losing himself in the height of his powerful climax.

A bodily shudder goes through her, her teary screams of pleasure are sure audible for her nearest neighbors.

Red Hood chants her name as his hot, thick white cum flows inside of her cunt, flooding her insides.

It's so much, too much. 

The streams of his hot cum is somehow a relief but also making her oversensitive. She doesn't think anyone is able to give that much of cum in one climax, but she thinks—as her mind cleared by her most powerful peak tonight—he must have been holding his orgasm since he ate her out hours ago. 

God knows if she were in his place—giving him blowjob multiple times until he climaxes—she wouldn't be able to hold hers and would probably orgasm alongside him with his cock deep in her throat. She shudders at her imaginative thought, not entirely against it—but Red Hood sure is, he likes the act of giving more than receiving.

She squirms because he hasn't stopped pumping his seed inside of her—balls still half drawn tight—but he shushes her and flicks her clit to calm her down from oversensitivity. 

She's just there, lying blissfully where the broad shouldered man above her cooing at her and praising her for doing so good for him and but she's in between wakefulness and sleep. She feels it when his cock sends the last spurts of his cum inside of her, but he doesn't move until he has softened in her, then carefully pulled out of her.

Red Hood is lying down beside her, hasn't drawn his pants and briefs up. 

He can feel the heavy stare of eyes in between her thighs, so she looks down on her body too.

Their combined fluids are a sticky white mess between her thighs, the blob of it peeking out from between her folds—not to mention the rest of his massive load inside of her cunt that probably will dribble down if she is as much as sitting down, she can't imagine if she tries to stand or walk, if she's able to in the first place, which she thinks she doesn't. 

The man beside her has wrecked her pussy with his cock and taken her ability to stand for at least until this morning, the feeling of it will definitely last for a week though.

As if senses that she needs to clean up but can't, he stands, drawing his pants and briefs up without zipping the former—probably for easy clean up—and walking to her bathroom. He's there for two minutes—she checks her bedside clock—and then comes back with his pants zipped up, hair much tidier, and a wet, warm soft towel on his hand.

He sits on the edge of the bed, cleaning the stickiness on her thighs and the white blob of cum that peeking out from her labia—the latter carefully because he knows she is overstimulated after everything—and then goes back to the bathroom to deposit it in her basket of dirty clothes.

When he's back again, she's slightly moving her body up—still laying down, though—holding her stuffed animal in her naked form in between the shallow valley of her tits, the sight making him smile. He sits at the side of the bed, drawing her blanket up until it covers her navel. 

He reaches for a bottle of water she has on her nightstand. Opening the cap, he offers it to her and because her head is only leveled up by her pillows at the back of her head and neck, some of it spills down her torso and slightly dampened her stuffie. 

"Pengu!"

"Pengu is okay, she's a penguin."

He retorts before drinking the rest of the water. 

She gives him her playful stink eyes, but says nothing and tries to rub the water with her blanket, even though it's obvious has been absorbed by the material of her stuffed animal.

She is still drying Pengu, so it surprises him when she asks, "Are you going to go, soon?"

"Do you want me to?"

He usually goes right after cleaning up, no hard feelings and anything.

But something is different in the air today, and he doesn't want to examine it further, but he knows he wants to stay here at least for some more hours.

"No."

She still hasn't looked at him, holding Pengu to her chest, so he pinches her chin up and kisses her.

"Okay, I will stay. Maybe until you sleep?"

She nods at him, her little smile is everything to him.

He lies down beside her, heads on the stack of her fluffy soft pink pillows that smells so her—peony and lychee scented perfume she wears—clothes intact and all, just without his belt and holster that are lying on her bedroom floor, but that's his problem for later. 

For now, he caresses her hair and holds his head close to his chest until she falls asleep.

mariea's notes: wow, you made it here! technically, this fic is crossposted from my ao3 account, i wrote it in september 2023. slightly modified. and i mind slight. you can head to my account (link on my pinned) if you're curious about the change i made lol. anyway thanks for reading <3

[littlesparklight]

Got the (foolish lol) idea to go through some of the works I know give physical descriptions of at least some Trojan war characters and collate them. They aren't in alphabetic order, sorry, but the works/authors are colour coded, at least!

I'll do this in two parts; this one for Achaean characters, the next one for Trojans. Watch Philostratus fanboy over Palamedes and Protesilaos (why????) and marvel, when compared to basically everyone else's description, across all works!

Helen The Iliad: 'terribly does she seem like the immortal goddesses to look on' (spoken of her, not narration), divine/shining/noble among women In Hesiod and other works she is given the xanthos = blond/auburn/etc epithet Dares: Helen resembled Castor and Pollux. She was beautiful, ingenuous, and charming. Her legs were the best; her mouth the cutest. There was a beauty-mark between her eyebrows. (Castor and Pollux: they were twins, blond haired, large eyed, fair complexioned, and wellbuilt with trim bodies.) Malalas, Chronographia: full-grown, well-dressed, with fine breasts, white as snow, with beautiful eyebrows, a beautiful nose, shapely, curly-haired, blonde-ish, with big eyes, charming, with a beautiful voice, a formidable sight among women. She was 26 years old. Tzetzes, Antehomerica: white, with soft skin and beautiful eyebrows and nose. Her skin was so white and bright as if it was made of snow. She had lovely breasts and a pretty face; she had languishing and large eyes and a melodious charming voice; she had long, curly, blond hair; she was well-behaved and perfect in everything she did; she was a lot more beautiful than all the other women, just like the moon is brighter than all the stars in the sky. At that time she was twenty six years old.

Agamemnon The Iliad: '[…] tell me the name of this gigantic man. […] To be sure there are other men even greater in height, […] handsome, nor so majestic, for he seems a kingly man.' Dares: blond, large, and powerful. He was eloquent, wise, and noble, a man richly endowed. Philostratus, Heroicus: Agamemnon and Menelaos were alike neither in appearance nor strength. […] He looked majestic and magnificent and like the sort of person who offered sacrifice to the Graces. Tzetzes, Posthomerica: white, big, of a wide chin and dark hair. He was well-bearded, well-educated, resembling the blessed ones.

Menelaos The Iliad: xanthos = blond/auburn/bright, 'standing towered with his broad shoulders. Dares: moderate stature, auburn-haired, and handsome. He had a pleasing personality. Philostratus, Heroicus: Agamemnon and Menelaos were alike neither in appearance nor strength. […] [he] wore his hair boyishly long, as was the Spartan custom, and the Achaeans made allowance for him when he was visiting, since they did not mock those who came from Euboea even though their hair was ridiculously long. He says he conversed most easily and very concisely, mixing pleasant speech with his discourse. Tzetzes, Posthomerica: the bodily frame smaller [than Agamemnon]; he had a breadth, though. He had a red skin, dense beard and blond hair.

Odysseus The Iliad: 'lesser in height than Agamemnon […], but he seems broader in the shoulders and chest.' (Also shorter than Menelaos.) Dares: tough, crafty, cheerful, of medium height, eloquent, and wise. Philostratus, Heroicus: extremely skilled in public speaking and clever, but he was a dissembler, a lover of envy, and praised malice. His eyes were always downcast, and he was the sort of person who engages in self-examination. He appeared more noble than he was in military matters; surely he was not well versed in preparing for war, in commanding naval battles and sieges, or in drawing of spear and bows. Tzetzes, Posthomerica: middle-aged, pot-bellied, white, with plain hair, nose looking down and fiercely glaring.

Achilles Dares: a large chest, a fine mouth, and powerfully formed arms and legs. His head was covered with long wavy chestnut-colored hair. Though mild in manner, he was very fierce in battle. His face showed the joy of a man richly endowed. Philostratus, Heroicus: For Achilles' physique appeared startling and divine […] When he became an ephebe, a brightness radiated from his face, and his body was beyond natural size, since he grew more easily than do trees near springs. […] hair is thick, lovelier than gold, and becoming no matter where and how either the wind or he himself may move it. His nose is not quite aquiline, but almost so; his brow is crescent-shaped. The spirit in his eyes, which are bluish-gray, casts off a certain eagerness even when he is still; when he is rushing on, they spring out along with his purpose, and then he seems more lovely than ever to those who cherish him. (long hair until Patroklos dies) Tzetzes, Posthomerica: tall, of a beautiful chest, graceful in everything, white, of blond curly and thick hair. He had a big nose, melodious voice and the eyes of a woman. His glance was terrible, in a race was swift-footed; he had long legs and scanty beard.

Patroklos Dares: handsome and powerfully built. His yes were gray. He was modest, dependable, wise, a man richly endowed. Philostratus, Heroicus: Patroklos, although he was not much older than Achilles, was a divine and sensible man, […] In size and bravery he was between the two Ajaxes. He fell short of the son of Telamon in all things, but he surpassed both the size and bravery of the son of Locris. Patroklos had an olive complexion, black eyes, and sufficiently fine eyebrows, and he commended moderately long hair. His head stood upon his neck as the wrestling schools cultivate. His nose was straight, and he flared his nostrils as eager horses do. Tzetzes, Posthomerica: middle-aged, potbellied and well-bearded. He had blond hair, red skin and lovely face.

Ajax, the son of Telamon The Iliad: 'outstanding among the Argives in height and broad shoulders' ; repeatedly called only second to Achilles in everything but looks. Dares: powerful. His voice was clear, his hair black and curly. He was perfectly single-minded and unrelenting in the onslaught of battle. Tzetzes, Posthomerica: brave, great, quick, with a nice nose and curly hair; He had a dark skin; he was well-bearded and grim-looking. He was more beautiful than everybody, except for Achilles.

Ajax, the son of Oileus The Iliad: lesser [than Ajax the great] by far, for he was a small man […] Dares: stocky, powerfully built, swarthy, a pleasant person, and brave. Philostratus, Heroicus: appeared less intelligent [than Diomedes and Sthenelus] […] looking fierce, and throwing his long hair back Malalas, Chronographia: tall, strong, tawny, squinting, good nose, curly hair, black hair, thick beard, long face, daring warrior, magnanimous, a womanizer. Tzetzes, Posthomerica: tall and had bright eyes. He was nice, had long face and dark curly hair.

Diomedes Dares: stocky, brave, dignified, and austere. No one was fiercer in battle. He was loud at the war-cry, hot-tempered, impatient, and daring. Philostratus, Heroicus: steadfast and having eyes that are blue-gray and not black at all and a straight nose; his hair was woolly and dirty. […] modest upon rebuke, checked the eruption of his anger, and refused to insult the troops or to be disheartened. He himself considered it appropriate for an army to appear unwashed, and he commended sleeping in any opportune place; his provisions consisted of what was available, and he did not take pleasure in wine unless troubles came upon him. Diomedes and Sthenelos were the same age. Tzetzes, Posthomerica: [he had a] body that was worth of four young men. He was in good shape with a flat nose, narrow neck and blond hair.

Sthenelos Philostratus, Heroicus: a good size and towering, gray-eyed, with an aquiline nose, fairly long-haired, ruddy, and hot-blooded. […] lacked Diomedes' insight, his power of speech, and his patient endurance which belong to both soul and body. He gave way to anger, was contemptuous of the throng of battle, was savage upon being rebuked, and was prepared for a more delicate lifestyle than was needed for a military camp.

Nestor Dares: large, broad and fair. His nose was long and hooked. He was a wise adviser. Philostratus, Heroicus: (statue, but also the real man?) with a beard that is majestic and well-proportioned; his ears display what he went through at wrestling school, and his neck is restored to its strength. In truth, Nestor stands upright, not defeated by old age, with black eyes and without a drooping nose. Tzetzes, Posthomerica: big, had a nose looking downwards and a fiercely glaring. He had a long face, flame-coloured skin, blond hair and he was wise.

Antilochos The Iliad: Younger than the rest. Philostratus, Heroicus: Because Antilokhos was still young and not mature enough for war when they assembled at Aulis, his father did not agree to his wish to serve as a soldier. (he arrives in the fifth year.) For Achilles' physique appeared startling and divine, but that of Antilokhos seemed to all to be pleasant and gentle. […] Antilokhos resembled Nestor, but that he was swifter, trim in physique, and paid no attention to his hair. He gave me the following details about Antilokhos: He was most fond of horses and hunting with dogs. Tzetzes, Posthomerica: younger than the other Achaeans. Almost a boy, he was white, with a beautiful neck and a big nose. He was storm-footed, provoked fear with his eyes and a beard just sprouting. He was blond with beautiful hair and grey eyes.

Neoptolemus Dares: large, robust, and easily irritated. He lisped slightly, and was good-looking, with hooked nose, round eyes, and shaggy eyebrows. Philostratus, Heroicus: he was good-looking and resembled his father, but was inferior to him in the same way that beautiful people are inferior to their statues. Malalas, Chronographia: of good stature, good chest, thin, white, good nose, ruddy hair, wooly hair, light-eyed, big-eyed, blond eyebrows, blond beginnings of a beard, round-faced, precipitate, daring, agile, a fierce fighter. Tzetzes, Posthomerica: red hair, that's why many had called him Pyrrhus. He was of young age, white or somewhat grey, the colour of the milk; He had beautiful nose and chest, hair curly and was daring; He hadn't ever been hurt, embittered, reckless and of a too wild temper; Thin tiny hair was growing from his beard.

Palamedes Dares: tall and slender, wise, magnanimous, and charming. Philostratus, Herocius: So then in height he was the same as the greater Ajax; in beauty, Protesilaos says, he vied with Achilles, Antilokhos, Protesilaos himself, and with the Trojan Euphorbus. His soft beard was springing up and with the promise of curls; his hair was cut close to his skin; his eyebrows were noble, straight, and came together above the nose, which was perfect as a square and stately. The resolve of his eyes appeared unshaken and fierce in battles, but when he was at rest their gaze was full of comradely affection and affable; he also is said to have possessed the most marvelous eyes among mortals. And in truth, Protesilaos also says that when he was naked, Palamedes weighed halfway between an athlete and a lithe person, and that he had a toughness about his face that was much more pleasant than the golden locks of Euphorbus. Tzetzes, Antehomerica: He was tall, white, with his hair blond and filthy; he was slim and had a long face; he was a servant of wisdom and of Ares. His hair was blond and visibly dirty, because he didn't trouble himself with stupidities like his hair.

Podalirius Dares: sturdy, strong, haughty, and moody.

Nireus The Iliad: the most beautiful man to come beneath Ilion of all the Danaans, after blameless Achilles. Iphigenia in Aulis: repeats the 'most beautiful after Achilles' description.

Machaon Dares: large and brave, dependable, prudent, patient, and merciful.

Idomeneus The Iliad: Older than most of the rest, gray-haired. Malalas, Chronographia: above average height, dark-skinned, good eyes, well set, strong, good nose, thick beard, good head, curly hair, a berserker when fighting. Tzetzes, Posthomerica: quick, had a dark skin, of middle age. He had a short curly hair, wide chin and beautiful nose.

Meriones Dares: auburn-haired, of moderate height, with a well-proportioned body. He was robust, swift, unmerciful, and easily angered. Malalas, Chronographia: shortish, wide, white, good beard, big eyes, black hair, curly hair, flat face, bent nose, quick-moving, magnanimous, a warrior. Tzetzes, Posthomerica: short; he had wide shoulders and beautiful curly hair. He was white; he had crooked nose, nice chin, wide face.

Philoctetes Philostratus, Heroicus: his hair was gray because of age (he was about sixty years old), he was more vigorous than many of the young men, his gaze was most fearsome among mortals, his words most brief Malalas, Chronographia: a good height, well set, dark skinned, eyebrows meeting, brave, good eyes, good nose, black hair, hairy, sensible, accurate archer, magnanimous. Tzetzes, Posthomerica: tall, beautiful, of dark skin and with meeting eyebrows

Protesilaos Dares: fair-skinned, and dignified. He was swift, self-confident, even rash. Philostratus, Heroicus: He is about twenty years old at most. Because he sailed to Troy at such a young age, he has a full, splendid beard and smells sweeter than autumn myrtles. Cheerful eyebrows frame his eyes, which gives him a pleasant, friendly manner. When he exerts himself, he looks intense and determined. But if we meet him at ease, ah, how lovely and friendly his eyes appear! He has blond hair of moderate length. It hangs a little over his forehead rather than covering it. The shape of his nose is perfect, like the statue's. His voice is more sonorous than trumpets and comes from a small mouth. It is most enjoyable to meet him naked, since he is well built and nimble, just like the herms set up in race courses. His height is easily ten cubits, and it seems to me that he would have exceeded this had he not died in his early twenties. Tzetzes, Antehomerica: a lovely face and courage in his eyes; his hair was blond and long; his skin was smooth and dark; he was bold, graceful, with beautiful body and beard; he was vigorous, although much younger than Antilochus.

Calchas Malalas, Chronographia: short, white, all grey, including the beard, hairy, a very fine seer and omen-reader. Tzetzes, Posthomerica: small, white, thin and shaggy-haired. He had his hair grey in the front and white the rest of it.

[bigmpregnm]

Life Lessons - Part 1: The Anatomy of Fatherhood

[Story Collection] | [Prologue] [●] [Part 2]

Alan Reynolds struggled to focus on the road as he drove to Max’s apartment. Towering above most people around, if not everybody, Maximilian “Max” Knight was a giant among men at 6’9” and an astonishing 485 pounds of pure muscle mass. At 19 years old, his face was a perfect blend of childish youth and confident charm, a combination that was both disarming and captivating. His tight-fitting t-shirt had done nothing to hide his enormous chest and broad shoulders, but after the fabric lost the battle against his muscles, the large rips all over it emphasized the student’s enormity.

As Alan drove, he couldn’t help but glance over at Max’s magnificent body sitting on the passenger seat beside him. Everything about Max was huge, from his bulging biceps to his thick neck, going down over his massive chest, to his thick thighs and muscular ass, which made his pants strain with every movement. Then, between Max’s thighs, Alan couldn’t help but notice the enormous bulge, which looked ready to burst. Max defied every knowledge Alan had about the human capacity to grow, leaving him speechless.

Arriving at Max’s building, Alan’s mind was overwhelmed by thoughts and confusing feelings. He was a married man with a wonderful wife and two extraordinary sons. He had never felt attracted to a man in any way, but Max had managed to destroy all his arguments and captivate him like a horny teen who just discovered porn. He wasn’t sure why he had accepted Max’s invitation to his apartment after the inappropriate touching outside the café, but he couldn’t resist the handsome guy’s charm. Alan had never felt so helplessly surrendered to anyone in his life.

At 33 years old, Alan was a big man by all definitions. Standing tall at 6’3” and weighing 250 pounds, he had an imposing frame. His muscles were prominent; his bulging pectorals and massive bubble butt were his most notable assets, but his entire body was a target for envious looks everywhere. He wasn’t used to feeling small or weak, but Max’s smile alone was enough to make Alan’s knees go weak.

Alan couldn’t help but notice the apartment was large and fancy. It was almost a whole floor, with an open concept, so Alan could see everything from the living room. The massive black couches seemed big enough to fit a man like Max. The large kitchen was spotless, likely stocked with enormous amounts of food. Alan saw a gigantic bed on the far end of the apartment, probably custom-made to fit Max. He was impressed with the apartment, but Max’s body was still the center of his attention.

The apartment seemed smaller with Max’s imposing presence there. Max kicked off his shoes and casually removed his ruined t-shirt as soon as they entered the apartment. Alan’s breath caught in his throat as the fabric peeled away to reveal the young man’s colossal physique. His deltoids were enormous, and his traps and back muscles bulged so much that they seemed strong enough to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders. Max’s chest was a landscape of dense muscle, his pectorals jutting out like massive slabs of granite. His abs were deeply chiseled, forming an eight-pack that flexed with every movement.

“Give me a few seconds to get comfortable, Professor,” Max said, smiling and noticing Alan’s stunned face. “I bet you can make out all the muscle groups and name them, right?”

Alan only nodded as he marveled at the hypnotic movements of Max’s enormous muscles. Max grinned and unbuttoned his pants, sliding them down while standing in the middle of the living room. Alan felt a rush of heat as he took in the sight of his almost naked student before him. Max’s boxer briefs left nothing to the imagination and only accentuated his outstanding size in all departments. His thighs were enormous, each one seemingly almost as thick as Alan’s waist, and his diamond-shaped calves bulged with every step. The boxer briefs strained around his massive butt, which made Alan helplessly drool.

Then Alan noticed Max’s overstuffed bulge, and his eyes widened. Since the stretchy material fit Max like a second skin, Alan could see the defined outline of a massive dick, which couldn’t be any shorter than 10 inches while soft, with about 3 inches of diameter. Max’s balls were as impressive as his soft dick, looking far bigger than softballs. Max playfully shook his bulge, winking at Alan to tease him, and the Professor couldn’t help but gasp at the sight.

“I hope you’re enjoying the view. You’re the first person who sees me uncovered this close in... well, forever,” Max said, walking over to a dresser and pulling out a pair of shorts. “You can also get comfortable if you want. Take the shirt off or something,” he said, carefully slipping the shorts on, struggling to make his ass and bulge fit in at the same time. The shorts were snug, barely containing the sheer volume of his muscles, dick, and balls.

Alan couldn’t look away, feeling overwhelmed by the scene before his eyes. “No, don’t worry. I’m fine with... my clothes on,” he said as Max ran to the nightstand beside his bed and picked up his laptop, quickly running back to Alan.

“That’s fine. Now, come on, Professor, have a seat,” Max said, gesturing to the couch.

Alan obeyed, sitting down as Max settled next to him. The couch seemed to shrink under their combined weight, the frame creaking as they adjusted their bodies. Alan felt Max’s body tightly pressing against his, making him feel small, but it was a great sensation. Max’s bare torso was warm, and Alan could feel the hardness of the massive muscles against him. As Max shifted and found a comfortable position, as close to Alan as possible, the Professor couldn’t help but glance at the massive bulge between his student’s legs.

Max grinned when he noticed Alan staring at his bulge, but he decided to act cool about it for a while longer. “I’ve been collecting some information about rumors and testimonies of people who have seen pregnant men.” Max opened his laptop and immediately showed Alan a folder filled with documents and images of men with round bellies in random places. Max pulled up a blog post, and they began to go through the various cases it showed. “Here’s one. This guy owns a grocery store somewhere, and he swears he’s seen this young man’s belly grow over the months, and then one day, the guy shows up with some babies. He says this has happened a few times over the years. The pregnant guy had several batches of kids or something.”

Alan’s eyes widened as he saw a photo of a dark-haired guy wearing an oversized blue shirt and gray sweatpants while pushing a stroller, with two toddlers by his side and a large, round belly that couldn’t be hidden with the oversized clothes. “Maybe he’s just fat. Have you heard the term dad bod before?” Alan said, keeping his thoughts on the logical possibility.

“I know men get fat when they become dads. Well, you seem to be an exception, Professor,” Max said, winking at Alan. “But this guy grew a big belly, and it suddenly disappeared. And I mean, look at these pics and that ass. This must be a pregnant man; I mean, look at the birthing hips,” he added, zooming in on the photo on the blog and sounding excited.

“I get your point, but if it’s true, it would be groundbreaking. Men don’t have the required equipment to carry and birth children. Even if they have birthing hips, it’s impossible,” Alan responded, struggling to focus on the stories with Max’s body so tightly pressed against his. He could feel every movement and every breath Max took. The warmth and solidity of the big guy’s muscles were a constant distraction.

Max turned to look at Alan, his blue eyes shining with excitement. “Well. I’d say some men could be exceptions. Some men have big pecs, wide hips, and massive butts. They seem perfect for getting pregnant. Maybe it’s possible,” he said, placing the laptop away and focusing his attention on Alan. “I’ve always thought it would be amazing to get a man pregnant. You say it’s impossible, but... the idea turns me on so much.”

Alan looked at Max, his breathing shortening as he felt the young man getting closer. “Really?”

Max smiled, a hint of mischief in his eyes. “Well, I’d love to see a man with a big belly carrying my babies while his body is all swollen, pecs filled with milk, wide hips, and a big ass to support the heavy belly.” Max reached for Alan’s pecs to caress them to emphasize his point. “But I know it would be unlikely to find a man willing to try. At least the practice would be fun, though.”

Alan chuckled, trying to ignore the shivers going down his spine due to Max’s touch. “Practice?” he said, looking into Max’s eyes.

Max smiled and sighed, his expression slightly softening. “Well, it’s something a bit embarrassing, but... I’m still a virgin,” he said, surprising Alan. “Most people are intimidated by my size, and, you know, my cock scares them. So I’d love to find a man willing to try, over and over again, until one day... I’ll get him pregnant.”

Alan was taken aback. He understood that most people would be hesitant to even try to fit Max’s soft dick inside them, not even think about it when it was hard. Alan looked at Max’s crotch again and grinned. “Well, I think anyone would be lucky to be with you. Anyone would be lucky to carry your kids. But you might be looking at the wrong gender if that’s what you want. Men can’t get pregnant.”

Max’s gaze lingered on Alan’s face for a moment longer, then he leaned in and pressed his lips against Alan’s. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t try, over and over again,” Max said as he kissed Alan again, leaving him stunned, his mind racing, processing the soft sensation of Max’s lips on his, and enjoying the careful touch of his hands.

Alan froze for a second but then found himself returning the kiss, drawn in by Max’s sweetness. The big guy wrapped his arms around the Professor, pulling him close and making him feel safe and comfortable. The kiss deepened, and Alan felt Max’s heart beating strongly against his chest. Everything else faded away, and all Alan could think was the feeling of Max’s body against his own. His own actions confused him, but the more he kissed Max, the more Alan was willing to jump into the next step.

Max quickly opened Alan’s shirt in one move, revealing his thick pectorals and abs. The shirt soon landed on the floor, and Max smiled at the well-defined physique of his Professor. Alan quickly stood up and removed his pants and underwear, letting his big cock and baseball-sized balls out. His 5-inch-long soft dick soon rose to its 10.5-inch-long full size, making Max smile even more. The young man quickly removed his own shorts and underwear, leaving Alan speechless with the size of his hard-on. Max’s dick was huge when soft and contained within his boxer briefs, but when hard and on full display, it was monstrous.

“According to your knowledge of human anatomy, is it possible for a man to have a 16-inch-long and 5-inch-diameter cock?” Max asked, his chest inflating with pride.

“It isn’t. It’s impossible,” Alan replied, marveling at Max’s massive dick.

“But here I am. Everything’s possible, Professor. Even a man getting pregnant,” Max said, pulling Alan’s hand to wrap it around his dick. “Are you willing to learn new lessons of anatomy?”

Alan nodded, and Max quickly lifted him off the ground and carried him to the massive bed. Alan was confused because he had never felt so small and surrendered before or so out of control, but Max was so caring and sweet that he decided to enjoy whatever was about to happen. Max placed Alan on the bed and climbed on top of him to passionately kiss him.

“I’ve never done this,” Alan mumbled between kisses.

“Me neither, but... I’ve seen videos, and I think... you’ll love this,” Max said, helping Alan turn around to get on all fours. “I promise I’ll be gentle,” he added, placing his hands on Alan’s hips to knead the ample asscheeks.

“You said everything’s possible, but I don’t think I can take your dick,” Alan said, tilting his head back and enjoying the sensation of Max’s large hands on his butt. Max then reached for Alan’s bull balls and caressed them softly. “Oh, okay. This feels good, really good.”

“I bet it does. Those big balls feel so heavy and so full, ready to create some babies, but... today we’re trying another method,” Max playfully said, lining his dick with Alan’s ass.

Alan shivered when he felt Max’s massive dick touching him. He was high on pleasure, but his rational side couldn’t help but fear the enormous cock aiming at his tight, virgin hole. “Ugghh… I don’t think this is going to work,” Alan said, feeling the massive head of Max’s dick already pushing against ass.

“And I think it will. We only need to be careful and gentle,” Max said, massaging Alan’s ass and lower back, making the Professor shiver and relax. “I told you, my parents are doctors, so I’ve read many books. I’ve spent hours reading blogs online. I’ve imagined this moment for so long, and I know how to help you relax. Your body only needs to relax to allow me in,” he added, almost whispering while the massage continued, and Alan moaned softly.

“You… you… how?” Alan mumbled, feeling a fantastic tingling on his hips, lower back, and crotch.

Max grinned when he heard Alan moan, pushing his hips forward and feeling the Professor’s tight hole resisting him. Max applied pressure to Alan’s lower back and moved upward, causing another soft moan to escape his mouth. Max felt Alan’s hole slowly giving up as it accepted a little bit of the tip of his cock. He grinned and intensified the massage, feeling how Alan’s body relaxed, his hole opening to welcome the enormous dick. With careful movements, Max managed to fit the massive head of his dick into Alan’s hole, and from there, he knew the rest would slide inside without problem.

“Oh, Fuck! So huge! So good! Ugghh,” Alan groaned, feeling the most intense pain he had ever experienced but loving how Max’s enormous dick felt inside him.

“I told you it was possible, and we’re just starting, Professor,” Max said, grinning but surprised by how stretchy Alan’s hole felt. He was optimistic about trying, but he never thought his dick could actually fit. “You have about 3 inches in; 13 more to go,” he added, pushing his hips forward to fit the rest of his dick into Alan’s tight hole.

Alan only moaned and groaned as he felt his body stretching beyond what he thought was possible to accommodate the massive intruder. He never thought a man could have a dick so big, and he never imagined a man’s hole could stretch so much. Max was destroying even his scientific-based arguments. He thought he knew everything about human anatomy, but his knowledge seemed short compared to what Max could do.

Max buried his entire dick into Alan’s ass, inch by inch, leaving a big dick-shaped bump on Alan’s abdomen. Alan took deep breaths and moaned loudly. His mind and body were overwhelmed by the intense pain, but the unbelievable pleasure was more powerful than any other feeling. It all felt even better because Max’s hands continued massaging his ass and lower back, making him shiver.

“Ready?” Max asked, pulling some inches out of Alan and forcefully pushing them back inside in one quick move.

“Ugghh… yes. Yes! Do it!” Alan shouted, pushing his hips backward to emphasize his need for Max’s dick.

The massive student bucked his hips slowly at first, making Alan firmly grab the sheets in pure bliss. Max placed his hands on his Professor’s wide hips and sped up his pounding, marveling at how tight the hole felt but how it stretched to fit his dick over and over again. He loved the feeling of Alan’s muscular asscheeks around his dick, and as he pounded hard, his balls hit Alan’s balls, and it also felt fantastic. Max knew from the moment he saw Professor Reynolds in the classroom that he was the kind of man he needed to finally lose his virginity. Someone big enough to handle him and willing enough to even try.

Alan’s mind was blank, and his body was on fire as Max’s dick rearranged his guts over and over again. He felt pain, but as the pounding sped up, the pleasure took over, and he could only long for more. His body was overwhelmed, and he felt his 10.5-inch-long dick throbbing constantly and leaking pre-cum like an open faucet due to Max’s enormous dick stimulating his prostate. Max’s massive balls hitting his balls added to the pleasure, and he knew he was on the verge of an intense orgasm. He couldn’t control his moans, evidencing that he was loving it.

Max grinned as he pounded at full speed and full force. The whole bed trembled under their combined weight and the force of the thrusts. His dick started leaking pre-cum, and for Alan, it felt like a water hose filling his guts to the brim, and it wasn’t even the actual cum shots. Max’s pre-cum was making the Professor feel bloated, and as he reached for his midsection, he felt a slight curve growing with each thrust.

“I’m close, so close,” Max whispered, focusing his outstanding power to thrust as hard as possible into a blank-minded Alan.

“Ugghh… Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” Alan mumbled as his dick shot large globs of cum all over Max’s sheets, making his whole body feel weaker than ever. His mind collapsed under the intense pleasure. He hadn’t touched his dick, and even then, it felt like the largest load he had ever shot in his life.

Not long after this, Max curled his toes, and a loud, animalistic growl escaped his mouth as he pushed his entire dick into Alan’s tight hole, and a geyser-like flow of cum came out of his dick slit and into Alan’s already bloated abdomen. Max wasn’t cumming in separate shots, but a steady flow of thick, warm seed made Alan’s abs look distended and feel ready to burst. Max moaned as his dick continued cumming, joining Alan’s loud moans of pleasure.

The moment felt like an eternity, and by the time Max’s dick had finally stopped shooting, Alan’s previously flat, chiseled abdomen stuck out about 3 inches from its previous shape. Alan panted heavily, covered in sweat, while Max began massaging his ass again, with his dick still buried in the Professor’s hole.

“This was better than I ever dreamed,” Max said, leaning forward to kiss Alan’s neck and shoulders, pushing his pecs against the older man’s broad back. “Sadly, it’s over,” he added, slowly pulling a few inches of his dick out of Alan’s ass.

“No! Wait!” Alan shouted, still struggling to catch his breath. “Let me... enjoy the sensation for a little longer. I still can’t believe it fits inside me,” he said, feeling Max push his whole dick back inside in one move.

“We can always have round two,” Max whispered, squeezing Alan’s butt.

“I… I… no… I’m married, Max. This can’t be repeated in the future,” Alan said, moving his hand over the expanse of his bloated belly. “But I can’t deny it was fantastic. As I said, anyone would be lucky to be with you. But I can’t be that person,” he added, now feeling Max’s dick quickly leaving his hole. Alan was surprised that his hole tightened without problem, and not even a single drop of cum leaked out of it.

“Yeah, I get that,” Max said, collapsing in bed beside Alan, who slowly turned to lay on his back. “But I’m glad you were my first, Professor Reynolds. Thanks.”

Alan’s hips were sore, his knees were weak, and his center of gravity was messed up due to his newly gained cum-filled belly, but he couldn’t help but smile at Max’s sweetness. “I’m sure you’ll find someone willing to keep trying for some babies. I mean, look at me,” Alan said, caressing his bloated middle. “I look pregnant.”

Max smiled and reached for Alan’s belly to caress it. “You do. Maybe with another round or two, you would look really pregnant,” he added as his hard dick throbbed violently.

Alan chuckled, leaning in to kiss Max’s cheek. “I better leave before you convince me to start again.” He patted Max’s chest and slowly stood up to leave, struggling to get on his feet and take a few steps because his lower body was weak due to the recent intense fucking. “Now I understand why Becca complains sometimes,” he added, slowly walking to the living room to put on his clothes.

Max silently observed Alan putting his underwear on, soon followed by his pants, which were now tight around the waist. Alan had to pull the waistband down to button his pants because of his cum-bloated middle. When he tried to put on his shirt, the struggle was worse because he could barely join the side and button it down due to his belly. Alan heard Max chuckling, still naked in bed, surprised by how Alan’s clothes didn’t fit him that comfortably anymore. The Professor only smiled and took his shoes in his hands because he couldn’t bend to put them on.

“Look what you did. I should make you fail my class for this,” Alan said, chuckling and slowly heading for the door, dealing with sore hips and legs. “See you tomorrow in class, Mr. Knight.”

“See you tomorrow, Mr. Reynolds,” Max responded as Alan left the apartment, unable to stop smiling after the best experience he had ever had. Max’s dick was still hard because he couldn’t stop thinking about his Professor’s ass and the fantastic cum-filled belly he just gained. “Fuck, I need to see that man with an even bigger belly,” he added, caressing his hard dick while closing his eyes to imagine Alan with a round belly full of babies. Max couldn’t wait to attend Alan’s Anatomy class again.

...

[coltishcaterpillar]

Unmasked / Platonic!Father Alastor x Teen!Daughter Reader

Chapter I: Introduction

Summary:

Two days after the Extermination, a bored Emily reads through private records of Heavenly residents and sinners alike.

During her mindless scrolling, she comes across a vintage diary smelling of old paper, from the late 20s-early 30s. It details the life of the teenage adopted daughter of the Radio Demon; up until her death at aged 16 on January 11th, 1934.

WARNINGS: Mentions of Racism

April 4th, 1932

Have you ever seen a top hat, what one really looks like on a person?

Neither have I, until today. At the end of Merritt Street, there’s a small accessories store that sells jewellery and clothing alike.

I used to frequent there, but I’ve never been a fashionable girl. I’m a larger fan of browsing; just admiring the beauty of art from afar, rather than acquiring it.

I never realized how much I missed the little establishment until I saw my favourite businessperson; Anne Brewster. A short, tout woman she was. Her skin had a grey tinge to it, a pointy nose that popped out her features; bright brown eyes and hair as white as pearls, short and thin as straw.

I greeted her with my usual demeanour. Quiet and curt, a straight wave and a superficial smile. The woman has a tendency to chatter; most of the time I don’t have time to interject, so I just listen.

I went in the shop with Elbert Graves; a fellow classmate of mine in mathematics. He’s not my ideal source of company, I’ll admit. I get along much better with other girls, but this helpless boy is always on my tail, and I can’t bare to tell him to get lost.

We came across a jet-black top hat with a golden ribbon wrapped around its rim. It was on display, but there was no glass so we assumed we could sample it. Elbert looked utterly ridiculous in it; far too flashy, and way too gigantic for his pea-sized head.

I managed a small laugh, as that’s the reaction he would’ve wanted from me. Ever the jokester…

I took a seat on the cushioned chair in front of the store’s entrance. Whilst Elbert was fooling around with other gadgets, Anne took to speaking with me.

She spoke a great deal about her grandchildren, and then inquired me about Papa.

Pa doesn’t usually wander about these places, but he knows Anne from university; they attended the same one in Shreveport, in September of 1908. Pa wanted to become a broadcaster post-secondary (to which he achieved) and Anne wanted to edit the local newspaper part-time; she was getting old, but didn’t want to stop working. She didn’t end up pursuing it, however, she dropped out her third year to take care of Rachel (her eldest grandchild who was 5 at the time.) Then, she inherited this business when Mr. Brewster, her father, died. He owned the shop.

She asked about his job was working out for him. Pa never speaks about work when he arrives home; usually he’s more interested in my daily activities. I don’t listen to Pa’s radio channel anyways, because the subjects he covers doesn’t appeal to me.

I just told her he was thriving; because in a way, he was. Pa was rarely in a sour mood. Of course, he gets moody when I do something out of line from time to time, but his attitude is always uplifting.

Elbert excused himself to the restroom at the back of the desk; that’s when she started talking about adolescent things. Boys…..

“Elbert is a such a handsome boy, don’t you agree?”

“Not particularly.”

“Oh? Why do you say that?”

“His chin is too long, and his head is too small for his broad shoulders. Not to mention his personality isn’t to my tastes. He’s far too extroverted and cheeky.”

“Oh, come now, my lovely. Surely, we can’t all be picky! What ever will you do when you grow into a young woman? Who will be around to take care of you?”

“Pa will, no doubt.”

“Oh, don’t be silly. Your father will be far too senile to care for you when you’re in your prime! You need a strong man!”

“Too senile?! Surely, you jest. Pa may be lanky, but he’s very capable. He was only twenty-five when he adopted me, he’ll only be middle-aged by the time I’m an adult.”

“You say Elbert is cheeky, but I see a lot more cockiness coming from you than I ever have with him.”

“Only an outside observer can properly assess my personality. Perhaps you just see my persona differently than I.”

“Is that so?”

The bell hanging from the door rang; in came a man, dressed in a business suit, a large briefcase held in his right hand. He had been more wrinkly than I had last seen him: Anne’s partner, Mr. Devereaux.

He has a very thick Yorkshire accent; Anne and him met while she was on vacation in London; Mr. Devereaux was studying photography. When they first met in late 1864, they weren’t sure whether or not they could ever be together. Anne is a very brown woman, you see. Very. Mr. Devereaux is about as white as a sheet. People often look down on….colourful couples…? More harshly. They aren’t allowed to be married, so they had to improvise.

Forgive me for not mentioning this sooner, but Anne is actually good friends with my Grandma. Pa is half-Creole, you see, and my Grandma’s roots come from there. So, the Brewsters are actually well-acquainted with my family.

Mr. Devereaux sat his briefcase beside the door, across from where I was seated. He flashed me a toothless smile; quite literally, since they all rotted out of his mouth due to age.

I gave him a curious look back.

“Back from business, old man?” I tease.

He chuckled; giving me an affectionate pat on the head.

“Oh, well, look at you! Already at it with the nosy interrogation, I see! I’ve missed you, sweet girl.” He smiled.

I narrowed my eyes. He didn’t answer the question….

He turned his attention to Anne quite quickly. Leaning over the desk, he planted a kiss on her forehead.

“The trip went smoothly,” He told Anne, “Janice sent you a letter. It should be in the mail soon, my darling.”

Janice was their daughter.

“Lovely.”

He turned his entire body so it faced me, with an inquisitive look on his face. He then turned and whispered to Anne,

“Al is out late again?”

“I don’t know, my sweet. I’ve seen her out and about all day with Elbert, he must be. It’s nearly nine.”

“I thought his radio shows were done by four?”

“Perhaps the schedule’s changed, dearest. Let’s not be nosy, it’s not our business.”

I let out a deep breath through my nose, standing up. Pa likes to hang around a few stores after work, so I tried my best not to let their observations get to me. Perhaps he was already home!

Anne leaned over from behind Mr. Devereaux.

“Could you go check on Elbert, hun? He’s been in the restroom for quite a while.”

I sigh. Without a response, I head toward the back desk, into the small hallway that had the restrooms.

I knocked on the door, firmly.

“El?” I addressed him by nickname.

“Mhm?” His hun echoed off the door.

I raised an eyebrow. “What have you been doing in there these past fifteen minutes? It was eight-forty when you went in, it’s five to nine already!”

Within seconds, he came out of the door, an awkward smile plastered on his face. A blush dusted his cheeks as well; I narrowed my eyes at him. Did he have the runs?

“Finished?” I asked him without judgment.

“Yes.” He said, curt.

I lead him back to the entrance of the store, passing Anne a smile. I turn my gaze back to Elbert.

“I’m going to be leaving now. I hadn’t realize how late it was. Will you be alright on your own?” I asked, a tint of concern in my voice.

“Of course. See you later?” His tone was hopeful.

Without a pause, I said, “Yes, I’ll see you later.”

I said my goodbyes to Anne and Mr. Devereaux, and sent my regards to Janice.

When I exited the store, it wasn’t as dark and drab as I thought it would be; I still heard birds chirping, and I could see my way almost perfectly. Just another perk of springtime, I suppose.

When I arrived home, Pa was indeed on the couch, his legs crossed, with a newspaper in hand; black coffee was situated on the side table.

“Home at long last, my dear!” He put his newspaper down; and I ran over, kissing him on the cheek.

“Sorry, Papa. How long did you have to wait?”

“Oh, not long at all!” He chuckled heartily.

I turn over to the rounded wooden table in the dining room; a large cloth bag sat on it; my eyes lit up in curiosity.

“Now, now,” Pa waved his finger, “I know that dangerous gaze. Don’t go peeking around my things, dear.”

I put on a thinned-lipped smile, leaning on the armrest.

“What, do you have something to hide, Papa~?” I leaned in, teasingly.

It was meant to be a joke. A rhetorical question. Yet, I couldn’t help but notice his fist clench up, if only for a moment. His body language was saying something different than what his mouth was.

“Is it really too much to ask to keep yourself out of my business?” He bit his lower lip.

When Pa took that tone with me, I knew it was time to pipe down. I decided to change the subject, sitting next to him on the couch.

“Elbert and I took a stroll around the avenue.” I said, tracing along the armrest.

I could FEEL Pa’s eye roll without even looking.

“Out with that wretched boy again, are we?” He took a casual tone as he sipped his coffee, but I knew the mere thought of Elbert irked him.

Pa has never interacted much with my friends, so I thought El would be another drop in the ocean. I think his hatred of him has something to do with that one time he came over here.

Everything was alright until dinner time.

The few hours earlier, Grandma treated us with a generous amount of Jambalaya. She always makes the best, after all.

Elbert made an….observation? While we were eating and it made Pa freeze.

“This is some slave food! Who made it, a peasant?”

All I remember was Pa’s grip tightening so much on the fork. I leaned over to where he was sitting and rubbed his arm a little.

I disliked the comment too. That was my Grandma he was speaking about….

After El left, I noticed Pa staring at the wooden spoon on the shelf. I know that blasted piece of cutlery all too well….

Pa is good at discipline. Even when my other friends came over, he’d always make an effort to chastise them if they didn’t say please or thank you.

Long story short, I think Pa wanted to beat El. That’s probably why he was showing such immaculate restraint at the table. I can’t imagine another person disciplining somebody else’s child would go…smoothly, anyway.

He had valid reason to hate him, I suppose. I’m not fond of Elbert either, but…how do you find it in your heart to say no? I suppose I’ve never really had a backbone, but…it seems that he’s really fond of me.

“How was work?” I asked with a smile.

“It held all of its classic theatrics! You should find it in your soul to listen to my shows, my dear.” He beamed.

I was deep in thought.

“Don’t I hear enough of your voice already?”

Pa chuckled his little chuckle that always made my chest warm.

“You can never have too much of your father!”

Time went on as usual; a few moments later I decided to pack up for bed; Pa went upstairs to get his radio ready to listen to. He always does before he sleeps.

I took that as an opportunity to ponder; I turned my gaze back to the bag on the table. Pa notoriously hunts, but it was far too late for food, so it made me wonder.

I slid toward it with my socks against the hardwood. I breathed in deeply; perhaps there was a certain scent? All I could smell was the dusty fabric; nothing more.

With a sigh, I decided to leave it for now. Maybe it’s….best that I don’t.

Y/N

——————

Emily blinked once. She recognized the background; that this child of one of the hotel staff in Hell.

Taking the historical piece of literature to St. Peter, she inquired,

“St. Peter, hi! I was just wondering if there is a girl here in Heaven named Y/N L/N?”

St. Peter smiled in delight, getting out his holy book, scanning through all the people with your name; going roughly by last name. His face fell as they came to an end.

“Unfortunately not, Em! It’s…strange, considering the circumstances. Sixteen is very young for a person to end up in Hell…but she isn’t in Heaven.”

Emily frowned, eyeing the diary in her hands. Perhaps she’d find the answer in there….

[mushysquashythingamajig]

Bucktommy Fluffebruary

DAY 1: NON-SEXUAL INTIMACY

@bucktommyfluffebruary

"Hey baby." Evan paused the documentary he was watching in favour of watching his boyfriend drag himself in through the door.

"Hey." Tommy's voice was laced with exhaustion. He threw his duffel somewhere in the living room and made a beeline for Evan, practically jumping on top of him. Evan just chuckled, wrapping his arms around the broad shoulders of the gigantic man basically in his lap.

"So, how was the shift?" Evan asked, softly rubbing his scalp. Tommy basically started purring.

"Q-word." Tommy replied.

"Did someone say it?"

Tommy just nodded silently.

"Want me to make you something to eat?"

Tommy shook his head.

"Are you sore anywhere?"

"Just my shoulders." Evan smiled. Not at the fact that Tommy was sore and his entire body probably hurt like hell, he's worked through q-word shifts too, but Tommy had been getting better at expressing his needs and wants. Especially after the 'fiasc0-that-shall-not-be-named'.

Evan dug his hands into the tense muscles of his boyfriend, slowly working out the knots. After a few minutes of the massage, Buck tapped Tommy of the shoulder.

"As much as I'd like to sleep here, i think we're both old enough to know that that's not a good idea."

Tommy sighed, whining a bit but he got up. His eyes were bloodshot but he still lent a hand to Buck to pull him up.

When they finally reached their bedroom, Tommy collapsed on the bed, socks and all. Undressing Tommy was a challenge, one that Buck gladly undertook. Once he was in his boxers, Evan changed as well and finally, he and Tommy were side by side.

[diejager]

If you might be taking requests at all, I was wondering if you'd be up for the idea of a fic with sleazy König or Ghost in an arranged marriage to the reader. Reader isn't quite happy with the marriage, but they are. It could be dark or cute, but I'd love to read a fic about an arranged marriage where reader is completely against it meanwhile their new husband is not. They've been hoping to marry reader for a while and now that they have, reader is all theirs in more ways than one. Scares off any men reader tries to date on the side and is hell bent on showing their lovely spouse that this marriage is perfect and that they truly do belong together.

Sleazy husband!König Cw: DARKFIC, DUB-CON/NON-CON, sleazy!König, arranged marriage, age difference/gap, scent kink, crusty balls, hairy König, tell me if I missed any.

König was a family friend, someone you’d seen a few times in your life, but had heard of many, many times that he was a commodity in your life, a subject you became familiar with without actually knowing the man. You’d caught glimpses of the giant when you accompanied your father to the military base for a quick visit, how he towered over you as a child and even more so now that you were an adult in your early 20s. You thought him an acquaintance, a trusted friend of your father, but you’d never thought of him in any other light. You saw him as someone dedicated to his duty, prideful and hungry for power and money, unbeatable and strong with his broad shoulders and gigantic stature. You wouldn’t have anything to do with him in your life, seeing how he barely glanced your way when you crossed path, he dutifully ignored you every time as if you were a plague.

And yet, you found yourself married to him; an arranged marriage. The colonel who avoided you and never seemed to like you had a private marriage with only your immediate family and a few men and women from the Company assisting to watch him embrace and take you home. A home you had no recollection of and were a stranger to. It wasn’t his flat, or the studio apartment you went to with your father. This big house was new and old, a newly bought house in with fresh paint and untouched furniture, in an old Austrian land with a beautiful and lush forest surrounding it. You didn’t even know the man, but you were married to him so quickly - in a month’s worth - that you were still too shell shocked to do anything about it. 

How could your mother and father agree to it so easily? To marry you off to someone you didn’t know. Then you remembered how close your father and he was, life companions that had fought battles together, bled for one another and would die to save the other. That was the reason you were promised without your consent or knowledge until it was too late. 

“Mein Herzchen,” he rasps, peering down at you, cold blues glowing under the darkness of his hood, “Come.”

König - your husband - was a man of few words, but wouldn’t stop talking if he found the right topic to touch, speaking your ears off about it. There were a lot you didn’t know about him, a mystery you didn’t dare try figuring out, but were forced to. You learned he was a dirty and immoral man, to have you marry him despite him being almost twice your age. He could’ve been your uncle, a man who’s age was near your fathers. You learned that he liked jerking himself to the sight of your open pantie drawers, an unwashed and stolen lace pressed into his face, the soft gusset pressed into his mouth and nose as he huffed and growled. You were repulsed by it, finally understanding why some of your underwearswere slightly crusty. 

You learned that he never shaved after your first night, consummating your marriage in the bed you later slept on. You were shocked to find that his chest and arms were as hairy as the tuff around his cock, wild and unruly, a messy bush crawling up his abdomen and spiraling around his chest and covering his paler tint in auburn brown. You learned that he never showered after a sweaty and stinky work out, his musk stinking up the house wherever he went and that he loved pressing you against his naked and sticky chest, smothering you in his thick smell that nearly had you gagging and choking. You couldn’t find the words to describe a man like König, as big and burly as he was hairy and smelly, he was unmoving in his resolve and liked to touch you whenever he wanted to, whether you liked it or not, his word was law.

Your husband was a sleazy man and you couldn’t do anything about it, the golden bound diamond ring on your finger was more so a chain than a wonderful promise.

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @danielle143 @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @randominstake @cassiecasluciluce @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @infpt-zylith @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts @evolutionarry

[earthmoonz]

WIFEY. | EPISODE TEN (10.0) [ACT ONE]

start / previous / next

a/n: welcome to the part 1 finale of wifey! I’m so glad you’re here! there’s so much to share in this chapter and I needed to close out this section of the story on a round number so i’m going to split it into acts! hope you enjoy ❤️

When Luis was young, his father seemed gigantic to him. He was broad shouldered, statuesque and seemed to absorb every space he was in. At the time, Winston often assured his son that one day, he too would get his 6 '4 height but instead he grew to an unremarkable 5' 10. It was as though the universe was forcing him to know his place, like the firmness of his father’s hand wasn’t enough. Years later, when Winston keeled over on a cliffside in Selvadorada, Luis finally saw his father for who he was. Not a giant, but a man. One so deeply afraid of what he might lose, that he could never fully accept what he had gained. It was down to Luis to play his father’s role, and keep his family from disintegration. But though he knew the lines, his performance always fell short. The costume was ill fitting and the ghost of his father loomed in every corner, casting a large shadow over his first and only son.  It was almost predictable then, when in the quiet of late night drives or the still dark of his bedroom before sleep, images of a life beyond his current circumstance started to flash through his mind. What was surprising, is that in a rare act of benevolence, the universe appeared to gift it to him.

(transcript below)

[NINE MONTHS EARLIER]

(LUIS): Why come to me?

(ROY): Enemy of my enemy. God saw fit to deal with your father. It’s up to me to handle the rest.

(LUIS): I see…and you’re sure this will work?

(ROY): I’m certain. You help me, I help you. We both get what we want.

(LUIS): Alright…I’m in.

[SEVEN MONTHS EARLIER]

(LOURDES): Have you lost your entire mind?!

(LUIS): Lourdes-

(LOURDES): Dad hasn’t even been dead a year and now you want to break Mami’s heart all over again? You want me to lie to my only sister?

(LUIS): Lourdes please. What I’m doing will save our family. It will make us better!

(LOURDES): You don’t know that! I feel like you’re not telling me the whole story. I don’t get why we just can’t go to Lena and Mami-

(LUIS): Because they won’t understand! Do you honestly think I’d ask you to help me if I wasn’t desperate? You’re the only person I trust in this world! I need you by my side on this. And you’re right, I’m not telling you everything, but it’s because you don’t need to know. You have to let me protect you, just like I'm trying to protect Mami…[off Lourdes’ look] and Lena too.

(LOURDES): …Okay. …I’m with you.

[callsign-datura]

dude would u ever write 4 price 😋

WOULD I? IS THAT EVEN A QUESTION? if you want smut... ask, i gotchu. John Price is the epitome of a strong, capable man. He's not gigantic, but he's big enough to make you second guess fucking with him. He has a face that's unreadable, stony eyes and an alluring accent that makes him all the more attractive. The worst part? He knows it. He knows he's attractive, he knows that he's hot. So he takes advantage of that fact. When you, a pretty girl, somehow ends up on his Task Force? An elite team with spots reserved for only the best? He doesn't treat you any differently. He's hard on you just like he's hard on the guys. But he does expect more from you. And you impress, every single time. Whether that's being agile and quick, or being good with a sniper rifle, his eyebrows arch upward every time you make your skill known. He likes that. He likes the way you look at him, too. The way your eyes linger on the span of his shoulders, his broad chest and the way he sits in his desk chair... he takes note of it. He takes note of the way you seem dizzy every time you're in his office. Whether that's the near-caustic cigar smoke that invades your senses or the way his imposing presence fills the entire room and leaves no room for argument when he makes a decision. If only he knew, though. If only he knew that you felt this overwhelming heat every time he was manspreading in that damn chair, if only he knew that you got immensely horny just from seeing him in action? He'd have your ass for insubordination. At least, that's what you thought. You thought he was an incredibly professional man, and, well, he is, but he decided to exceed your expectations. On a particularly difficult day, where you had to take part in some hard drills and difficult training and sparring, your entire body was tired. You were tired. Emotionally and physically. Your room was down the same hall his office was, so every time you went to your room you'd pass his office. This time when you passed, you noticed that the door was open. You took a quick look inside, and there he was. Price was leaning against the wall, cigar between his lips as he stared at the window with a faraway look. In his other hand was a crystal glass filled half-way with an amber liquid, and he swirled the liquid inside before setting the glass down on the windowsill with a soft thud. He turned his head, and his gaze immediately landed on you. His deep blue eyes penetrated every fiber of your being and ran a shiver up the center of your spine. His lips quirked up into a faint smile when he saw your form shrink in on itself. He pulled the cigar from between his lips. "Sergeant." He said, lowly, gruffly; British accent lacing the word and sending heat straight to your cunt. He put the smoldering cigar in the ashtray in the windowsill, and crossed his arms over his chest, the manner making him look even broader than he already was. His gaze flickered down to your legs as you scuffed your heel against the floor. "Need somethin'?" He inquired, finding it slightly amusing you hadn't responded yet. "Um," you said quietly, trying to straighten your form. You were a soldier, not some blushing schoolgirl in the same room as her crush. A soldier. "No, sir. I was passing by and your door was open." He chuckled. A low chuckle that made his chest heave, and your pussy flutter on nothing. He took a few lithe steps over to his desk as he drew the chair out, and settled into it. The chair creaked under the addition of his weight, and he leaned back, his knees drifting apart as both hands rested on the arms. "So you decided to have yourself a peek, hm?" He said. No, he cooed it. He might as well have been purring at you. "I didn't mean to invade your privacy, Captain, I was just curious." You said quickly, trying to cover your ass. He chuckled again. Your cunt pulsed. "Come," he reached up and gestured with two fingers, a beckoning motion that made the tendons in his forearm flex. "Let's have a chat."

[oh-koenig-my-koenig]

Fit for a King - WIP - "You are tiny"

Fit for a King - Masterlist

König fanfiction scenes and chapters that do not yet have a coherent plot

planned content/TW: rivals to lovers, König x fem!character (not too descriptive to make it accessible for more readers), social anxiety killing machine König, badass friendly FMC, dual POV, secret relationship, switch energy, NSFW, adult themes, strong language, violence (more details are still unclear, gonna update as I go), authentic austrian german

a/n: well, my brain isn't letting go of this newest obsession of mine, so I will appease it and write some scenes/chapters that come to mind. i have written more original work and less fanfictions and our boy (and KorTac) is hard to research, but I'll try my best to stay some-what cannon to the lore. it'll also probably get darker down the road.

if your character doesn't have a tragic backstory, why not give him one?

A not so meetcute

(CW: some mature language)

I strut along the hallway, I'm already late to report for duty and turn the corner abruptly. I collide with somebody else at full walking force and almost get pushed to the floor, if the big figure blocking the light shining from above wouldn't have caught me. "Ouch.", I yelp, more surprised than hurt, even though I feel like ran over by a truck.

I steady myself to look at the "truck". I look up and I keep looking up and up. At first there's just this chest, a huge chest, in a simple compression shirt, but oh boy. The weapon holster is what I see next, sitting snug at the side of his torso. Shoulders, big broad shoulders, and normally you would expect to have a head sitting on top of them and a face looking back at you. I guess, he has one as well, even though I don't see one bit of it. I strain my neck to finally meet his eyes.

But all I see is the dark black of a… sniperhood? A T-shirt? I mean, it looks like a t-shirt, that somebody cut holes in to fashion themselves a kind of mask. The front is stained with bleach, two streaks coming down from the eyeholes... My eyes widen as it sinks in who this is. König. KorTac operator, field combatant and one of my superiors. Shit. I've heard some rumors about him. And it seems like at least some of them ring true.

"You are tiny.", he states matter-of-factly, his Austrian accents shining through the uttered words. It's the first thing he says to me. "And you are... not.", I retort. I can't make out his expression as it so obviously is hidden by his mask. He nods, turns around and heads down the hallway where he came from. I shake my head. What the hell was that?

I stretch myself, feeling the impact of the collision already. My god, that was like being hit by a battering ram. I heard that his specialty is breaking down doors with brute force. I thought this to be ridiculous, but now as I watch the gigantic muscled man strut down the hallway, quickly disappearing, I do believe it. 6'10" killing machine. Ridiculous.

I shake my head again and make my way to the meeting room. Ridgeback is already waiting for me.

______________________________________________________________

Fuck. Shit. Fuck. Verdammt. Ah, des hast du ganz super g'macht.* I tell myself sarcastically in my head as I basically run down the hallway. She must be one of the new hires. Must be. And you almost turned her to mush. Mus. Brei. Human remains splattered against the wall. I curse myself again. I didn't even apologize. "You are tiny." No shit, Sherlock, everybody is tiny compared to you. I continue to mock myself. Fuck, Shit, Fuck.

"Ridge, since when do we hire children?", I ask him as soon as I enter the room. He doesn't even look up. "We don't." He keeps reading. "Then why did I just almost run over a recruit that didn't even reach my waist?" – “Because compared to you, everybody seems tiny.” He sighs and looks up at me. “None of our personnel are under 6’, not even the women.”

“Even the new recruits?”, I ask him again. He furrows his brow. “What did you do, König?”, he wants to now. “I may or may not have almost trampled one of them.”, I say, kleinlaut***. He sighs again. “I think that was Müller, she’s actually on her way here.”, Ridgeback says. “Müller? Is she german?”, I ask in surprise. I didn’t hear such an accent on her, but to be fair, she only said like three words… and I wasn’t really paying attention to her words anyway.

On cue, the door opens and I fall silent. “Permission to enter, Sir?”, she says with a clear voice. Not at all seeming like I almost turned her into pulp. I take two steps back to stand in the back, trying to blend into the wall behind me – which I already know from experience is not going to work. “Come in.”, Ridge says. “Müller, right?” She nods and approaches. My focus is fully on her, all the small bits I noticed about her before are still there. She’s not wearing a mask because it’s not necessary off mission. You know, like you normally would. She has laugh lines. Around her eyes and mouth. Fucking laugh lines. She doesn’t look like she belongs here.

The two of them are talking, but I catch every single time when her gaze lands on me, even if it’s just from the corner of her eyes. I fight against the urge to turn away every time she looks at me, when I hear Ridgeback drop the old s-word. Sniper.

My ears perk up and I finally pay attention to what they’re saying again. “Your track record is almost immaculate, Müller. You’re gonna be an asset to the team on the next missions.”, he says to her. I can see that she tries to hold back a proud expression or smile on her face, but she doesn't really succeed at that. God damn it, a sniper. I groan and make my way to the door which doesn’t go unnoticed. “König.”, Ridgeback pipes up. “You wanna show Müller the way to the dorms?” as I already have my hand on the doorknob.

I still for just a moment and the roaring sensation of anxiety seeps at my feet and crawls up my body until it’s nested at the back of my head. I can’t talk to her. Not after embarrassing myself before. “Nein.”, is all I say before I’m out the door.

*God damnit. You did a really bang up job. ** two different words for pulp/mash *** meekly (word for word: 'smallloud')

[dadbodbucky]

i wanted to post something and its tuesday

snippet from my ecologist!buck au:

Eddie’s fresh off a 24 when he sees him for the first time. He’s clocked out, picked Christopher up, and stopped by the bank to drop off a check. He’s dead on his feet, and Chris is always hangry and overtired after school, so Eddie is also, to put it politely, at his fucking limit.

He turns into his driveway and sees it. “It” being two positively massive piles of wood chips spilling out from his neighbor’s yard onto his own. It’s completely overtaken a good chunk of Eddie’s yard, including part of Christopher’s ramp, which pushes up against the border between the properties.

And, okay, it’s not like Christopher can’t just move around the wood chips, but it’s a principle of the thing. If his neighbor thinks it’s okay to block part of the ramp, they might think it’s okay to block the whole ramp, that Christopher might not need the ramp, or they might think it’s okay to block Christopher’s concrete path to his ramp. It’s a slippery slope, and most people don’t understand accommodations. He can’t just explain to everyone that his barely-in-code steps are too steep for an eight-year-old with balance issues, but some stairs and some obstacles are okay. That’s at least a five minute conversation if he’s lucky. 

When he was first learning to make accommodations for Christopher, there were a few over thirty minute, endless back and forth conversations that Eddie had with a particularly nosy “HOA board member” who was convinced Eddie was building a meth lab instead of an accessible shower.

So, Eddie unlocks the door and tells Christopher to go on inside and get himself changed and started on his homework, and he goes over to his neighbor’s house to assert himself. Assertively. He can do that. He was in the army.

Assertive and polite, Eddie reminds himself, steeling himself to knock on the door. Right when he goes to knock, though, the door opens and Eddie’s hand winds up swinging forward—

Right into someone’s face.

“Ow! Fuck!” The person says, dropping some cardboard and cradling their face in their hands, “What was that for?”

And Eddie should reply, but the only thing he can really take note of is that the person in front of him is fucking hot. He’s a few inches taller than Eddie, with broad shoulders and biceps that look like they’re about to pop out of his stained t-shirt. He’s in plain shorts that stop above the knee—where his absolutely gigantic thighs peek out—and tennis shoes that look like they’re falling apart.

“Sorry,” Eddie says, through the driest mouth he’s probably ever had, “I was trying to knock.”

Eddie prays that the man’s face is ugly, or that he’s going to be a dick, but when he moves his hand, Eddie can see baby blue (albeit watery) eyes, soft, curly blond hair, plush lips, and a birthmark just above his eye. This guy is a fucking smoke show from head to toe, and instead of looking pissed off, he relaxes and huffs out a laugh. “Were you trying to break my door down or something?”

“You got woodchips on my son’s ramp,” Eddie says, instead of answering.

“I did?” The man blinks, “Sorry! Oh God, sorry, I didn’t notice, I’ve been so busy with the shipment. I promise I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s okay,” Eddie says, sighing and feeling all the fight leave him. Of course his new neighbor wasn’t trying to be an ableist asshole, it was just an accident, and Eddie assumed the worst. 

“Sorry, uh, can I squeeze past you?” The man asks, and that’s when Eddie realizes he’s gone somewhere and come back with a broom. Eddie follows him back over to the ramp, where he starts sweeping off the wood.

“This is a little uneven,” The man mentions, “Does your son use a wheelchair? I could redo this for you.”

Eddie bristles at that—the familiar urge rises in the back of his throat. He’s just about to bite back something harsher than his neighbor probably deserves, something about how he doesn’t need help, when Christopher pops his head out the front door.

“Daddy?” Chris asks, “Who’s that?”

“Hey, buddy,” Buck says, before Eddie can introduce him, “I’m Evan Buckley, your new neighbor. Everyone calls me Buck.”

Buck sticks his hand out for Christopher to shake, and if Eddie weren’t so busy trying to give this guy the chance he deserved, he’d be pissed at Buck for ignoring him. Or maybe embarrassed that he forgot to ask Buck for his name. Or that he forgot to introduce himself when he knocked on his door.

Chris introduces himself as, “Christopher Diaz, but everyone calls me Chris,” and gleefully shakes Buck’s hand, jerking it up and down so hard Eddie’s worried he might dislodge it from the socket. And then he’d have to give his sort-of asshole neighbor medical treatment. Whatever.

“What do you even need all these wood chips for, anyway?” Eddie asks, trying not to sound bitter or sarcastic. He’s only mostly sure it works.

“Oh, I’m redoing the lawn,” Buck says, “I’m working to create a few different microfarms in LA. This one’s kind of my first big project. I’m going to be doing an herb garden out here in front, and then in the back I plan on doing some compost and raising some chickens. Maybe some ducks, rabbits—”

“Oh,” Eddie says, because it’s—okay. He understands that his food has to come from somewhere, but he’s hesitant about all this. It sounds like a lot. “So, what, your yard is just gonna be covered in wood chips?”

“Only for the first season,” Buck explains, “To kill the grass.”

“Why would you kill the grass?” Eddie blinks, taken aback.

Buck smiles in a way that, quite frankly, makes Eddie feel condescended to. (If he weren’t so irritated, he might notice the way Buck’s eyes light up and his hands do half the talking for him, adorably excited.) “Lawn grass isn’t actually native to the United States. It was a status symbol in Europe, because only royalty could afford to have their lawns tended to. And here in California, it’s actually detrimental to the local environment to have one. Non-native grass takes a lot of water to maintain, and we just don’t have those resources here. I’m culling the grass in the front yard and the backyard, and doing some water retention gardening to save on the rain that happens our way.”

Eddie’s head hurts. Unfortunately, when he opens his eyes, he sees Christopher’s own, wide and bright with stars.

Oh no.

“That’s so cool!” Chris gasps, “How do you reten—retent?—the water?”

“Chris, why don’t we go inside and stop bothering Buck?” Eddie urges, because if Chris ends up actually liking this man Eddie will move again. He’ll go to Alaska. He’ll take Chris to fucking Mexico if it means never seeing Evan Buckley, his neighbor who he punched and immediately developed a low-simmering irritation for, ever again.

[fresnonightdraws]

i have this twst oc.... like more then 20 of them this is like the list of their name and reference/inspired by who The red one i concider not remake/redraw as those were just me being bored lmao

and this is some of the redraw

they all still look the same as when i first sketch them out i willpost the pic when i found my sketchbook

THO MATHIAS SHOULDER SO BROAD BRO LIKE THOSE GIANT MAN AND PETITE WOMAN MANHWA WHERE THE ATANOMY KINDA MESSED UP

the date i finish this art 1st n 2nd: 27 august 20204 3rd: 22 october 2024 4th: 2 november 2024

aquinar merform :D he's gigantic cus hes a whale afterall a sperm whale specifically if i remember correctly legit forget... FInish 30 october 2024 ANYWAY MORE SON

that how i imagine his clothing but im still tweaking them finish around 15 May 2024 for now this is all i also have enstar oc but they less developed i have 5 fucking unit total atleast 15+ char more.... i really need help cant stop makig oc like my 4+ hsr oc and maybe 2 genshin oc tho i havent develope them too lmao

I POST THIS CAUSE I FEEL BAD FOR POSTING NOTHING FOR A WHILE NGL anyway maybe i will draw something soon it will be oc maybe or fanart depends

anyway i would lore dump but i will do it when i draw individual art

[fangweaver2099]

A Minor Slip-Up - Chapter 1

Miguel O'Hara X Reader 18+

You've been working for Dr. Miguel O'Hara in Alchemax' R&D department for 2 years. For those two years, your crush on the gigantic, handsome man that just happens to be your superior has only gotten worse with time.

When you notice him alone at Alchemax' Christmas Gala, you take your chance. A one night stand.

You two agree it was just once, but it seems life has other plans.

This fic takes place in an alternate canon of the Spiderman 2099 comics. While the entire plot uses the lore of the 2099 comics, the aesthetic of Nueva York is based on Across the Spiderverse.

Miguel is based also on his ATSV character in personality and appearance & his tech. He's a bit more of an asshole and less traumatized tho.

He has not discovered portal technology and is technically not the ATSV Miguel we see in the movie – but a variant. While I use his backstory up to before Dana and him go to Valhalla is pretty similar - instead of being constant crazy stuff it cuts off there. The comic backstory ends and diverges with a much slower plot where Miguel has to grapple with being Spiderman and occasionally handling crazy stuff and trying to stop Alchemax. Also, he has ATSV Lyla bc she’s objectively the funnier version.

It was totally normal to have a crush as a grown woman, right ?

That’s what you had tried to convince yourself of anyway. Dr. Miguel O’Hara was technically your boss. You were a senior in your position, but he was the lead scientist – you submitted reports and updates to him and followed his instruction and advice. Any project had his name first, regardless of how much work he actually did.

Dr. O’Hara was attractive. There was no way the towering, chiseled man built like a Greek god didn’t know he was drop dead gorgeous . Tall, smart – handsome. The only downside was his personality had gone from a slightly egotistical lead who treated everyone like they were stupid, to barely talking to anyone, and brooding in his office. He seemed almost… depressed .

You had chalked it up to the explosion that happened in Miguel’s personal lab almost 5 months ago. Apparently, a late-night experiment had gone wrong. The accident had killed Mr. Delgato and Miguel was apparently there when he died. You couldn’t imagine how traumatic it was. So, you were quick to give your boss some serious slack.

You didn’t know Miguel that well anyway; he was your boss – personal life was not exactly something folks discussed over petri dishes. It’s not like he spent any time in the break room on the main R&D floor. He usually didn’t spend time in any break room, really.

Right now, the massive Miguel O’Hara was at the head of the table his team usually had lunch at. He looked like he was nursing a hangover and holding a coffee cup that was too little for his gigantic, tanned hands. His shirt was too tight, and it put emphasis on his massive shoulders and broad chest.

You were doing everything you could not to stare.

 You knew the dress code well, no wearing your hair down in the lab, so your neck was still chilly and ears pink. You felt like you were freezing even in your thick turtleneck sweater, dark slacks and company-issued lab coat. The massive glass windows of the break room did little to stave off the December cold in Nueva York. The entire room was bustling with a few dozen scientists and other employees, but your team always hung out together. It was nice that you all actually liked one another.

You made your coffee sweet, more cream than coffee, eyes on the approaching Dr. Amara Monroe. The bubbly blonde with bright green eyes had to crane her head back to look at you – but it didn’t stop the both of you from becoming good friends over the past two years.

Dr. Monroe had her hands on a plastic box – likely some sort of food container that had long been cleaned. She sat it down before her seat, one hand on the rim.

“Okay. Write your name on the slip, and then put it in the jar.” Dr. Monroe’s other hand motioned to the scattering of cut-up printer paper on the table.

Apparently, it was an old tradition from the early 2000’s – Secret Santa. Dr. Monroe explained it as a bonding experiment, her family had been doing it as long as she remembered. It seemed that the woman was intent on continuing it in her workplace. You couldn’t help but grin, the idea exciting you, reaching over to grab a piece of paper. It meant you didn’t buy gifts for everyone, and even with your excessive budget, it was a relief on your wallet. 

“So, what if you get someone you don’t know?” Dr. Kline asked, one red brow raising. The ginger woman took a piece of paper anyway as Dr. Monroe passed her a pencil.

“That’s the fun part, you get to bother them and figure out what they like – but you can’t reveal you’re the one buying them their gift. Ask around! Plus, we’re all like…” She moved her hand in a waving motion. “Nerds.”

At that, a few of their coworkers snickered. You noticed even Miguel smiled a touch, rare. You forced yourself to peel your eyes away with a long sip of your coffee and reached over, picking up a piece of paper.

“It sounds fun, any other rules?” you asked as Dr. Kline passed the pencil over to Dr. Schneider. The tall blonde male scribbled his name in his nigh unreadable writing. You plucked the pen from his hand and wrote your own name down in the neatest handwriting you could muster, folding it with a flourish and using your finger to press down the seal.

“Hmmm… No gag gifts. My family usually does a price limit too - how does 30 sound?,” Dr. Monroe mused, tapping a finger to her freckled face.

You could hear a murmur in agreement from everyone as you returned to sipping on your coffee, letting the blonde scientist pick up your paper and toss it in the jug.

Miguel didn’t make a move, sitting back and watching, like he usually did during the company mandated lunch break, as everyone wrote their names. You quickly concluded that Miguel had no plans on participating, there was a little piece of you that was disappointed. He deserved to feel included, big grouch he may be.

It seemed Dr. Monroe noticed, her green eyes narrowed as she motioned the jug over the table, sticking it in Miguel’s face. He leaned back, looking at the small woman over his dark sunglasses.

“I’m not interested.” His smooth voice replied, raising one hand, telling her to back off.

“You’re our boss, you gotta.” Dr. Monroe retorted, too sweet for her own good. The woman was no pushover. A few voices spoke up in agreement. Miguel visibly simmered, slouching more in his chair as his massive hand pushed the box away. Amara frowned but Miguel placed down his own coffee, picking up the pen and writing his name, the script hurried and scribbled.

“Thank yooou-“ She took the paper from Dr. O’Hara before he could stop her, tossing it into the box. She plugged the hole with one of her hands before shaking it vigorously. Watching the tiny blonde woman bouncing the box around like it owed her money made you break out into a smile, hiding your snicker behind the mug you clutched in your cold hands.

Despite the seriousness of your job and Alchemax as a whole (along with your scrooge of a boss), you adored your direct team, they were all nice and reasonably friendly. Your team was one of the more accomplished teams in R&D – at least, as far as the reports your boss provided showed.

You couldn’t help but feel a bit proud. You took your job rather seriously – your last review had you noted as ‘careful and meticulous’.

You could hear a small, casual discussion going on as the team began discussing interests. Apparently, Dr. Yoshida loved something called Warhammer – Dr. Kline was a chronic chocolate addict and Dr. Monroe collected vintage stuffed animals from the 2030’s. It was a good bonding exercise, but you couldn’t exactly reflect on what you wanted.

You were not about to explain your weird love of horror, or your pile of shitty romance books downloaded on your holopad, a dirty secret you would take to the grave if it were up to you. You preferred being the awkward workaholic type anyways, instead of the dreamy weirdo you were in college. 

Your eyes drifted to Miguel.

Maybe you’d get lucky and get him – figure out something he’d like and put a smile on his stupid handsome face. You didn’t notice Miguel’s head turn to you quick enough, your gazes meeting, the hints of his hooded eyes under his sunglasses had you move to down your coffee like nothing had happened.

Miguel’s brow raised, but he said nothing as you turned to Dr. Yoshida.

“So – what about you? Worst gift you’ve ever gotten,” Dr. Yoshida asked, his dark eyes narrowing as he turned to face you.

“Uhhh…” You had to think about it. 

“Do my student loans count?,” you attempted to quip, forcing a smile. Dr. Yoshida laughed.

Dr. Monroe paused her container’s torture as she placed it on the middle of the table.

“Okay. Pick one. You get yourself – toss it back and take another. Got it?,” she said, moving to pluck one of the strips and unfolding it. Amara grinned deviously before shoving it into the pocket of her lab coat.

You waited until about halfway through, forced to lean across the table. You weren’t often thankful for your height – nearing six feet was often a pain - but now it had its advantage. You plucked a slip from the bowl without ease, and then sat back down with a small ‘oof’. 

Your fingers made quick work of unfolding the paper. 

‘Hiro’ was written in clear handwriting – Dr. Yoshida. Okay, that made it easy. You’d search up what the hell Warhammer was later, maybe a new tie or something. You glanced over at Dr. Yoshida; he always wore a dark blue tie with some sort of geometric pattern on it. Didn’t matter the color of his shirt. Sometimes it was fine, but he was wearing a deep mossy green recently. It looked awful.

You noticed Miguel’s hand dip into the jug, before flipping open the paper without…any reaction. He didn’t sit back down.

“I’m heading back.” He said without hesitation, mug still in hand as he strode away, leaving his team alone. You wondered who Miguel got – did he get you ? Your cheeks burned as you realized how pathetic you were being, and you had to resist the urge to slap your cheeks to wake yourself up.

The rest of lunch went just fine – small discussion as you and Dr. Monroe discussed your current round of tests. You always got assigned the boring work – and now it was antibiotic creation for a new disease affecting what was left of the cattle population across the US. Printer meat was already commonplace for most of the population, but it didn’t stop those wealthy enough to want something real. So, you got to figure out how to keep the animals alive. 

When you had just graduated college, bright eyed and stupid, you had thought you’d be doing important things like curing cancer. Alchemax had other plans.

Lab work after lunch was the same as ever- boring and filled mostly with reviewing code and notes. The amount of calibrating that every machine needed was practically mind numbing. Still, you were thankful for the busy work.

You headed back to your own office at the end of the day. The room was clean and organized as your lab bench. A few personal touches just like your apartment – a rose gold pen caddy that had your pens organized by color, a gray cushion on your chair to make it more comfortable. Nothing too casual, nothing too personal, all workplace appropriate.

You shrugged your lab coat off and packed your bag with your laptop. You gave into the chill and even let your hair out of its messy bun. Your fingers raked through your locks and fluffed it free. You tossed on your gray jacket and put your bag across your shoulders.

You tossed on your pink scarf and seemed prepared enough to brace the open-air parking garage. You tapped the frosted glass of your private office door as it slid open and closed behind you, lights shutting off with no one within. Your expensive non-slip shoes were silent as you made your way to the open hall of your floor. 

And there, looming before the elevator, was that massive figure. Miguel.

He wasn’t in his usual white lab coat, replaced with a dark, long overcoat. His hands were in his pockets, and he seemed to be leaning over slightly, putting emphasis on his broad shoulders and small waist. Awfully, you were reminded of one of the junior scientists calling him a Dorito. You tried not to crack a smile at the memory, walking forward as you attempted to calm your own expression.

You tried to keep your distance, moving to check if the button was pressed as the counters pinged down. Miguel seemed to notice your presence, glancing down at you from behind his sunglasses. You met his gaze for a moment from the corner of your eye and swore his eyes looked… red? It was probably just the light.

You glanced away and shifted in place, suddenly all too cognizant of the silence. 

You could keep quiet and say nothing, but you should make small talk, right? Be normal .You’d been in this type of situation before, this wasn’t alien. You could feel the warmth on your cheeks. As you opened your mouth to speak, the elevator dinged and saved you from further embarrassment.

You both entered together, taking your places on opposite sides of the small elevator. You were both tall and now you could see why Miguel leaned just a bit – if he was standing straight, he might have hit his head on the elevator door.

He was standing straight now, having almost a foot over your own height.

You were not used to people being larger than you, especially most men. At the most they were eye level. Before you’d met Miguel, you couldn’t understand why some of your college friends found men intimidating.

But Miguel was intimidating.

For the first time, you felt small . His hands were massive. He was massive . He made you feel all too cognizant of what it meant to feel like prey. Like he was strong enough to snap your neck if he was angry enough – not that you’d ever thought he would. He could probably pick you up – the primal desire to be manhandled had you shift in place, trying to ignore your own thoughts. He was your boss for God’s sake.

Miguel beat you to pressing the same button – floor ten’s light flicked on as the door closed. You did your best to take a step back and look anywhere but Miguel.

You were sure that Miguel was cognizant of the effect he had on women. You’d heard people jokingly call him ‘tall, dark and handsome’ more than once, though he always seemed too caught up in his work to notice the looks he got. 

It was a harmless crush, Miguel had never as much as reciprocated anything. He was so serious , especially in the last few months. You would have thought that after working under Dr. O’Hara for nearly two years, that you’d get over it, but it got worse whenever the two of you were forced into proximity.

You had nearly 40 floors before the parking garage. You cleared your throat – anything was better than pings as you descended.

“Have you ever done a secret Santa?,” you asked Miguel, head tilting to look up at the massive geneticist.

“No,” he replied, tone blank, not sparing you even a glance. You leaned against the wall of the elevator, biting your cheek.

“Me neither. I think it’s fun. I already know what I’m going to get mine.” You’d tried to sound relaxed, but the inclination of your voice came out nervous. 

Miguel raised a brow at you.

“I’m not telling,” you replied, guessing at the wordless question. Miguel crossed his arms; head still pointed in your direction.

 “I-It would spoil the surprise. I- wait. I didn’t get – I didn’t get you! I-” Your hands pulled from your pockets and motioned in the air. 

“I figured,” Miguel interrupted with the ghost of a grin. You went quiet before letting out a long sigh.

“Sorry. It’s been a long day.” Your voice was back to calm. Brushing a stray lock of hair from your face, you could feel the warmth on your cheeks as you scolded yourself, stop being pathetic – you’re a grown woman. You’re a fucking doctor . You’re-

“Mhm.” Miguel mumbled as the elevator finally stopped and clicked open. You didn’t wait as you were greeted by cold winter air.

You practically ran out of the elevator.

Desperate to get away, you didn’t notice when your foot met ice – melted snow had turned to ice in the garage. You let out a surprised shriek as the concrete ceiling came into view. 

Rather than cracking your head open on the concrete like an idiot , you felt hands grab at your armpit and waist, and the back of your head hit something warm and hard as you scrambled for purchase.

“You need to be more careful, chica.” Miguel’s deep voice broke your stuttering train of thought as you relaxed into his grip. Your knees pulled in as you finally stopped stumbling, head lifted back as you saw Miguel staring down at you – smirking .

“ Uh-huh ,” you replied dumbly, eyes wide and a single curl falling across your gentle features. He hoisted you back onto your feet proper and let go. Awkwardly, you swayed and patted your coat.

“T-thanks. I thought I was going to crack my head open.” you remarked with a nervous grin.

“I’d hate that. You’re a good member of the team, doctor. I don’t think I’m too good at making that clear,” Miguel remarked with a sincerity in his voice that had your eyes widening in confusion.

“…Thanks. You’re a good lead. Better than my previous boss. He didn’t like me very much. First job and all that.” You reached out and awkwardly patted Miguel’s arm. Miguel glanced down and raised a brow.

You pulled back. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. Just don’t forget about the compiled review you and Dr. Monroe are supposed to finish tomorrow.” He kept the conversation casual and work focused. 

You were thankful for that.

“Will do, boss.” You grinned, hands crossing over yourself as you ignored the heat on your cheeks. It was cold enough that you both could see your breath. You hoped Miguel didn’t notice the way your face burned.

After a moment Miguel waved and went on his way with large strides. For a moment, you stood there, staring at the back of his head as he walked to his own car like a love struck puppy.

Your hands reached up, pinching your red cheeks as you groaned in embarrassment, knowing you were going to spend the next two years laying awake at night screaming at yourself for this. Eventually you made your way to the metro - deciding that you’d get Dr. Yoshida’s gift tonight. Might as well get something productive today.