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#was always going to get tall and thick in the shoulders and beefy and when he cut his hair it just sealed the deal he passed with flying
dirt-str1der · 1 year
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Trans kiryu is a genuinely funny hc because like trans majima is like oohh angst ohh she has to fight to be accepted she has to deal with people making fun of her for being a man in a dress she has to take into account her position and social standing and kiryu is literally just kiryu forever because the universe loves him too much to ever force him into a situation unless its to go to prison in which case hes like yayyy i love jail yayy yayyy
#Yakzua loveblog#im just talking to myself you guys dont need to read anything#in fact dont read this im going to talk about transphobic nishiki again anyway#my transphobic nishiki hc is the most important one to me because. like we all need to have some transphobic people in our lives#i do think that nishiki calls him ‘kiryu’ even though theyre best friends forever because when nishiki will always accidentally say his#deadname instead of ‘kazuma’ even though i know that nishiki is literally the one who gave him the name kazuma to make fun of kiryu for#thinking hes a boy and it just kind of stuck but nishiki eventually stuck. with calling him kiryu because thats how he prefers to be called#they are bestfriends for a reason .... and nishiki is the only one kiryu will let be transphobic towards him because theyve known each other#for forever and he knows he means no harm by it like he will still hit him but nishiki takes it in stride because its their thing and its#never not funny to make kiryu annoyed like for anyone else its an uncrossable line but once a month nishiki will lead kiryu into the womens#section to shop for new clothes and kiryus like Somehow i always knew you wore womens jeans and nishikis like HEY !!!!#but as kids they were always very cute because theyre always together and you can never really tell whos following who because it seems like#theyre on the same wavelength until nishiki realises that life is so much easier when youre working smart so he went to work on his INT stat#while kiryu never stopped being a wild animal like hes literally some sort of monkey to me sorry for dehumanising him because of his autism#like i adore his ‘own little bubble’ way of life as long as he’s physically okay kiryus not going to complain about anything. like when he#said ‘i decide to do things based on whether i love it or hate it’ im like Yeah i bet you do. he sits outside the orphanage all day playing#with rocks until nishiki comes finds him then they both go outside to smash open windows with the rocks kiryu has gathered and kiryus in his#little skirt and he always uses it to carry things in you know how it is and he stopped going to school to be a bigger menace than everyone#anyway did i mention that the universe loves kiryu. especially his genes he was very lucky because he never had a big chest or nothing he#was always going to get tall and thick in the shoulders and beefy and when he cut his hair it just sealed the deal he passed with flying#colours like young children are indistinguishable by gender unless they have a big pink bow in their hair but kiryu radiated masculinity#from a young age and his aggressive way of life didnt help. well it helped a lot actually. a lot of people were scared of him and nishikis#like dont be scared of kiryu shes nice when you get to know her and everyones like ?? thats a girl ???#in fact it made more sense for kiryu to be a boy at that point so he went to kazama and told him and kazama was like ok lets make it happen#like kiryu and nishiki are so special because there is nobody in the universe more transphobic to kiryu than his own brother but also nishik#was the one helping kiryu shop for boy clothes when he was clueless about it like hes not stupid but he really doesnt know about fashion and#he trusts nishiki to not make him look stupid and nishiki is of course like 😏 well well well youre having a girl moment arent you#nishiki is okay with kiryu being a guy because this means that now whenever kiryu hits him he can fight back without being misogynistic#okay im done talking my noodles are getting cold but kiryu as a kid would have been a veritable nightmare#oh yeah my trans beam extended to nishitani as well because just look at him. everybody majima wants to sex is trans
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1800jjbarnes · 7 months
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◇ 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟏𝟐 : 𝐒𝐢𝐳𝐞 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤/𝐒𝐢𝐳𝐞 𝐃𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 - 𝐒𝐭𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 ◇
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【Synopsis】 : Your two professors were more than happy to show you some tips and tricks to help you study.
『W.C』 : 1.36k
-> Genre: Colleg Au. Suggestive. 
Pairing: Professor!Stucky x Student!Reader 
[Warnings] : Swearing. Pet names. Hints of sex. Teasing. Dirty talk. Some man handling. Some pussy play hehe.
Masterlist | Kinktober List | Part Two
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There was a secret code in college, an unspoken rule if you will. Never, ever, by any means, fall in love, or sleep with your professors. And yes, they might be handsome, and they might be only seven or so in age difference. But never, EVER, be romantically or sexually involved.  And this rule stuck by most students and more professors. There were young girls who always fawned over the brooding, tall, and mysterious drinks of water known as their English or History teachers. And boys that would whisper among themselves who was the hottest, Ms. Romanoff, the Health and fitness teacher, or Mrs. Maximoff, the criminology professor.
But you? You swore the minute you only got barely accepted to the college―since you were late for the cut―that you would not look at your teachers in such an inappropriate and unprofessional way. Besides, you were one day going to be joining them as a professor once you pass your training exam. You always wanted to teach visual arts and Theater and this college has allowed you not only to study such majors and degrees but also train so that one day you’ll be able to teach them yourself to others.
You worked hard, studied instead of sleeping. Sleeping instead of hanging out with friends. Your life revolved around your work, and yet when you met the stand-in, since your normal teacher was away for a couple of weeks. It was like your brain no longer understood how to function. And the worst part…
Theres two of them.
Both are strong, tall, and deviously handsome. One had a voice so deep you could feel the vibrations of his vocals every time he spoke, and the other had eyes as piercing as the sun and a smile that could kill. To say they were your ideal type would be an understatement. And what was the icing on the cake? They are huge. Beefy broad shoulders, thick biceps and thighs, heavy chests. They were like super soldiers, and oh, how that made you swoon. Wanting nothing more than for them to pick you up and throw you around as if you weighed nothing. If you were to stand in between them, you surely would be caged in the best way possible.
You met them during the first term, six months ago. And every day since was a little unspoken game of cat and mouse. You didn’t flirt at first, still wanting to be professional but as your late hours at the library grew or the time spent sitting in an empty classroom for some quiet as your dorm was too loud to considerate became more common. Mr Rogers and Mr Barnes came to your aid to help you with your studies, of course. First, they would sit at the front of the classroom while you were at a row of desks. They would explain about being a teacher, cheat sheets of sorts, and tips for when to do your first training shift. Helping you understand the ins and outs of navigating college students. And then it slowly moved to one of them sitting next to you, Mr Rogers, you could smell his cologne, the musk of his natural scent. His arm would brush yours, occasionally making you see how his large biceps were. And they were definitely the same if not larger than your thighs. Your body felt so small next to him.
And then Mr Barnes sat on the other side of you. The feeling of being caged was coming to reality, and it was burning a fire inside of you. You tried to brush away these feelings. They are your professors, after all and one day, co-workers, not some school crush to dot over. But they were so smooth-talking, charming, with flirtatious smiles, and your mind couldn’t help but wonder since they are so naturally big, were they big else where…
“You get all that peach?” Mr Rogers's voice snapped you out of your lewd thoughts, redness suddenly pooling on your cheeks. You see that’s why Mr Rogers had given you such a nickname, Peach, was because of the shade of pink your cheeks would be whenever he made eye contact with you. Deep down you knew your professor shouldn’t be nicknaming his student but then again you didn’t take the classes they taught, and the longer you thought about it, the more okay it was to flirt back. After all, you were all adults.
“You seem a bit distracted today?” Mr Barnes grumbled behind you, making a shiver dance down your back. My god, if that man sounded like that on a regular, you wondered what his bedroom voice sounded like, or even better, his morning voice. “Is something bothering you?” he asked, placing his large hand on your shoulder, stopping you from turning to the side to see him. No, instead, he slowly rubbed his fingers deep into your tense muscle, making you feel relief surge through you. You almost forgot to answer the question, too focused on the older man's hands doing wonders on your shoulders.
“I-I uhmm…” You were lost, suddenly feeling Mr Rogers's hand grip the top part of your thigh, rubbing circles on your exposed flesh where the hem of your shorts are. “It’s just. M-mr Rogers…”
“Don’t worry, Peach, and I said already. Call me Steve. We are going to be co-workers soon. You should address me and Bucky as such.” He included his friend and co-worker at the end, letting you know what you’ve been told for the thousandth time, call them by their first names. “You seem tense, darling. What could ever be the cause of so much tension in this pretty body of yours.”
Your eyes snapped open now, looking at Mr Rog―uh you mean Steve―in his intense stare. Did he just call you darling? Now, your face was definitely redder than a tomato at this point. “S-Steve…”
Steve groaned, biting his lip while rolling his eyes slightly. he had to pull back for a second before returning his hand to your thigh. “God, my name sounds so good when you say it.”
You looked away for a moment, feeling your heart was going to beat right out of your chest. The next thing you knew, a pair of large beefy arms pulled you by your waist until your ass was placed onto a board, hard, lap. “Say my name Doll Face. I wanna hear what my name sounds like coming off your pretty lips.” All barriers were gone and lines were being crossed. But none of you cared anyone. The flirtation became too much, more so for the men it seems and with Bucky's lips finding the sweet spot behind your ear you couldn’t help but moan;
“Bucky…”
“Fuck, that’s it. Such a good girl.” The hold Buck had on you got tighter, and his huge biceps caged your back against his heavy chest. Your mind was spinning at the sheer thought that all Bucky and Steve had to do was squeeze you tight enough that you’d break. They are so much bigger than you, stronger than you. They could throw you around and do as they pleased to you and all you could―would―do is lay back and take it.
“We knew you’d be such a good girl for us peach. Just look at you, head empty already when we have barely touched you.” Steve chuckled, squeezing your thigh, letting his long fingers slip towards where you needed them most. “you want us to touch you, darling? Teach you some real lessons?” He emphasized the word ‘real’, all knowing that He and Bucky were going to teach you anything but a real lesson in this moment.
“Please…” you retched out for Steve, gripping his perfectly iron button-up, pulling him towards you. “Please show me…” He drew his lips to yours quickly as Bucky bit down onto your shoulder while his hands loosely move to open your legs, letting Steve cup your entire wet cunt with his huge hand. You were most definitely in for a night of your life.
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winterarmyy · 1 year
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Plot Twist | Part I
An arranged marriage with mafia!bucky.
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Run-through: I just need to get this out of my system. Most of arranged marriage mob/mafia!au I've read has a strong/bratty reader. And a really mean/asshole Bucky. Which is absolutely fine btw but its getting repetitive for me. I wanted to see a reader who's actually soft but fierce when she wants to be. And Bucky who is generally cold and seems to be married to his job but notices small things that the reader do, thus subconsciously started to care about her. They don’t hate each other, nor do they are infatuated. I don’t know if this exist, so I decided write it myself just in case. Enjoy!
Navigation: Part I | Part II | Part III* (end) | Extra
Words: 1.1k++
Pairing: beefy mafia!bucky x female!reader
Warnings: just fluffy and wholesome stuff here. Nothing graphic or explicit.
P/S: I like to write in 3rd pov btw. There's a few mentions of y/n sometimes too. Beware of the grammar mistakes, English is not my first language. This might be 2-3 parts type of fic, so tell me what you think so far.
Read my other works here: Masterlist
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“He's late.”
The soft clinking sounds of his rings colliding with each other and onto the dresser woke her up from her deep slumber. Though her body remained still, her mind continued to wonder,
“Late. Again.”  She thought.
The sound of fabrics rustling about hinted her of what was happening beyond her closed eyes. The shut of the bathroom door confirmed her speculations.
“So, what if he came back home late? Why does it concern you?” She questioned herself.
Only a fool would believe if she said that she didn't care at all about the whereabout and well-being of this man. He is her husband after all.
Six months ago, she stood on the alter with that man. They swore an oath. They sealed the kiss. He was hers and she was his.
James Buchanan Barnes; Bucky was what he preferred to called. He is what every man wants to become, and every woman wants to be with.
An Adonis of a man; impossibly tall, 6'5"; body armored with thick layer of muscles. Bucky is huge, that if he trapped her against the wall, she might just see the resemblance of him to a grizzly bear. His dark hair flowed just above his shoulder and his steel blue eyes were as cold as his personality.
Though she wouldn't compare him to a frozen blizzard during the winter, he was more like the first day of snow, when the white flakes started to fall.
Cold enough to make you shiver and warm enough to lure you out but most importantly, obscenely beautiful.
However, of course, the main reason of the marriage set up by her father was not because of how beautiful he is, but to fulfil his hunger for power. As if the territories that their family has wasn't enough, her father arranged this union to extend his reign.
Y/N protested at first but knew better than to fight against her father. Being raised in such family, at a very young age she learned to think always ahead; pass the emotions and intuitions. What's the rational and logical way to solve a problem.
Took her a week to wrap her head around the matter, research about Barnes and go through the agreement between her father and her then husband to be. Barnes had listed some main demands regarding the union and although most of them were about their business, but one particular demand had caught her attention.
“After marriage, the couple must be faithful to one another. Any romantic/sexual relationships prior must be severed/resolved immediately. Failed to do so will result to termination of the contract.”
“Hmm. Interesting.” She thought.
Not that she was in any relationship at the time, and all the research result to possibly positive outcome. So, in the end, she complied.
Which then explained why she was sleeping in Bucky's bed six months later.
��I know you're awake.” Bucky's gravel voice startled her internal thoughts. She could feel the indentation of the mattress on his side of the bed, the fresh and clean scent wafting from him. She nearly purred from a sniff of it.
She slowly opened her eyes as if she was trying to peep and god what a sight to see after a restless sleep; Bucky's idea of pajamas was basic pants and nothing above and Y/N didn’t know what to feel about that. Does she hate it? Absolutely not. Does she like it? Well, he is easy on the eye indeed.
The room was dimly lit, but she could see his slightly damp hair; it looked longer than it is dry. Her eyes followed the outline of his body leaning against the bed. The soft light reflected on his metal arm particularly follows the gold lines decorating the dark surface.
She often had intrusive thoughts of tracing the lines; what would it feel like against her fingertips. Does he feel anything? Is it cold? Will it feel good? 
“You do know that it’s a waste your time to wait for me, right?” He huffed a heavy breath. She could hear the fatigue in his sigh.
And how does Bucky know that she waited for him before admitting her defeat to the drowsiness? Somehow, Bucky always managed to know things, to the littlest matter, even when he’s million miles across the world.
Just like when she found a copy of Pride and Prejudice on the bed a few months ago. The day before she received it, her copy was drenched in coffee; a young woman bumped into her in front of the café she often visit. He was in Russia that time. “Was it Clint? Did he tell Bucky?” she wondered.
“Whoever said I was waiting for you?” She scoffed, yet if the room was well lit enough, Bucky would’ve seen how playful her expression was.
He hummed a deep voice, “Hmm.” there’s a hint of doubt in his tone.
Y/N quickly follow her previous sentence, “I was simply enjoying my reading, that I lost track of time.” She shifted to face him and tucked herself further into the blanket, hiding the lower half of her face as she looked up at him. She wondered if he could tell that she was smiling just from her eyes.
Bucky’s gaze remained still on her, as if he was trying to reach into her soul, before he leaned closer to peek on the book on the table. Pride and Prejudice written on it.
He chuckled, which was rare. At the least the real ones are.
Of course, she had seen him smile and laugh countless of time. Especially during those gala they often attend. But those were just another set of armor he wore on a daily basis.
Bucky tried to bite back a smile, sinking his teeth into his lower lip, “Lost track of time, huh?” Yet, somehow Y/N can hear the smile in his tone.
“A good read?” he asked as if he did not know why his wife brought up about the book. She never said anything about the gift; not a thank you or a complaint. 
She simply cherish it in her own way. He heard from Clint that she rearranged her whole bookshelf just to make space for the book he gave her. Maybe this was her way of saying thank you.
He had been giving her books every week, since.
She pulled the blanket away from her face, lips curled into a genuine smile, “Always.”
Bucky preened to her reply before suddenly, “Okay, enough chit chat. It’s late.” he said almost monotone sounded, as he made himself comfortable under the blanket.
Before she could overthink of what went wrong, why the sudden drop of chemistry; that was when she felt his hand roamed to find hers. Bucky brought her palm closer to his face, she could feel his hot breath against her cold skin. 
He leaned his lips on her palm, leaving a soft and tender kiss as he mumbled, “Goodnight, doll.”
Rush of red shades bloomed on her cheeks, before caving into the feeling of his stubble on her hand. She gently caresses the side of his cheeks, hoping it soothes him to sleep. 
The corners of her lips curved upwards into a smile, "See? Like, the first day of snow."
Part II >>
Read my other works here: Masterlist
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A/N: It’s my first fic so... share your thoughts? ily 🤍
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cream-stew · 7 months
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cw: size kink, hand kink, horny rambling, body type headcanon for thoma, gn! reader alluded to as being shorter.
i can't stop thinking about big boyfie thoma + size differences. like he's so… tall ❤️ i've always kinda headcanon him as having a bit of a chubby/beefy body type. no defined muscles exactly, like the type of muscles you develop naturally when doing hard labor.
practically towering almost everyone, he's got those big, strong arms and hands, his fingers thick with callouses (i want them around my neck)
with how often he has to carry heavy luggages during work, no doubt he can easily manhandle you with those big paws 😍 pushing and pulling you into all kinds of different positions. what other things you got that's big, bb boy—
he'd be so reluctant to have sex with you at first, because what if he hurts you!! :(( cue sad golden retriever eyes.
but in actuality, the dork has been fantasizing about your first time with him ever since he first laid eyes on you. secretly having a size kink and goes wild whenever he gets reminded of how tiny you are compared to him.
sitting on his lap, all with a coy smile on your face? how dare you 🤨 internally, he'd be fighting for his life. even with something as innocent as holding hands, he'll end up a blushing mess.
i also just love the thought of sweet, innocent-looking guys going absolutely feral on their partners. it's just so 👋👋👋 you know??? (a,, are you seeing the vision, reader. im holding you by the collar of your shirt, im shaking you. can you see it—)
ahsjsks i'd let him decimate my 150cm ass. i have a few more ideas for big boye! thoma and they got me salivating, foaming at the mouth, shaking like a chihuahua. forgive me, cream-stew. expect me to go feral in your inbox a few more times.
also!! how's your health going? hope you're faring well 🥺 —🐾
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🔞minors dni
warnings: afab reader, size kink, rough sex, vaginal fingering
// note: bestie I love these asks you are more than encouraged to keep going feral in here (no matter how long it takes me to reply... that's on me bc I'm lazy lol) this is so valid tho I'm kinda short too and size kink is so...🥰🥰
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he starts out so soft and slow, stretching your wet pussy with one (1) single fingers, his hands shaking with the effort of restraining himself, not helped at all by the way you desperately beg him to fuck you already... but noooo you're so much smaller than him, the top of your head barely reaches his collarbones, his hands are so big he can completely encircle your ankles, and he thinks there's just no way his huge cock is gonna fit inside you :((
no matter how much you insist he still holds you down on your stomach, one big hand against the small of your back while the other one slowly pumps more fingers past your entrance, leaving so much of your juices gushing out and staining the bedsheets.
he scissors his two fingers before adding a third one, and you whine in frustration: you could already be bouncing on his fat cock but nope, he wants to be gentle :((
you're crying in equal parts pleasure and crumbling self restraint by the time he's done stretching you with four thick fingers and he's trying to replace them with his cock, gripping your hips with both hands and slowly pushing it inside your loose pussy. it's true that it's an incredible stretch but it feels so good!! you start begging again, this time for him to move and fuck you like he means it, and you're lucky this time: he seems unable to keep holding himself back, so yep, he starts pumping in and out of you at a ruthless pace, your poor pussy struggling to let him back in every time he pulls out completely before slamming right back inside. you just know your tummy is bulging out whenever the tip of his cock hits your cervix🥰
at some point, when he pulls out he doesn't push back inside so quickly: he rolls you on your back, manhandling you so easily it makes butterflies flutter in your belly, and hooks your legs on his shoulders, folding you in half. the position feels a lot better already, his cock hitting even deeper, but it's so embarrassing to be reminded of how short you are compared to him, you can't even see his flushed face as he fucks your brains out :((
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Text
Get My Pretty Name Outta Your Mouth
Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI
Pairing: Walter Marshall x Reader
Fandom: Night Hunter
Word Count: 1.7K
Summary: For @enchantedbytomandhenry; You hate everything about Detective Walter Marshall. He feels the same about you. Now, kiss!
Warnings: enemies to lovers trope (not sure if I nailed it though), unprotected p-in-v, creampie, Daddy kink, male tackling female to subdue (if that squicks you, maybe skip this one-it is quick but described)
A/N: Unbeta’d, we die like people who tried their best. 
Dividers by: @firefly-graphics
Support/Reblog banner by me
My Masterlist 
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Oh, this is great. No, it’s perfect. Not only were you voluntold to work a weekend-long stakeout, but you’d also be paired with Detective Marshall. Yeah, that Detective Marshall. Walter. The asshole who you’ve been competing with for ‘top dog’ since before joining S.W.A.T. all those years ago. 
He was always just ahead of you. Ran a mile half a minute quicker. Got promoted a month sooner. To top it all off, he was tall and drop-dead gorgeous. And he had an ass you could bounce a quarter off.
Wait, hold on. When did that become something you even cared about? 
The way he cockily smiles at you as he exits his truck in the parking lot of the motel is enough to have you clench your thighs together. This should be a fun weekend. 
Friday night into Saturday morning is spent quietly using the listening devices to monitor our suspect. You both just…sit there, using your ears. Walter is usually quiet, sure. But what human doesn’t even accidentally use small talk to fill a quiet space?
During the day, you try and sleep in your separate room but it proves to be difficult. You toss and turn, grumbling to yourself after a couple of hours. Visions of Marshall’s chiseled jawline, beefy arms, and thick thighs are burned in your mind. You abandon all hope of sleeping, spending the rest of the day disassembling and cleaning your sidearm. It keeps your mind sharp and you genuinely enjoy the process.
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It’s nearing seven and you’re just getting your things together to head over to the surveillance room when you get a knock at the door. You peek through the curtains and see Marshall as he leans on the doorframe.
You open the door and look expectantly at him. When he doesn’t answer and barges into the room past you, you pipe up, “Come on in, why don’t you?” You close the door behind you and watch as he looks around the room.
He notices your gun cleaning kit on the small wooden table by the window and looks back at you. “You didn’t sleep today. You look like shit.”
“Awesome. Thank you. What do you want?” you snap, already sick of his annoyingly perfect face.
“Go home and get some sleep,” he crosses his arms, standing in front of you, “Got the B team coming in to take over.”
“So, we’re both leaving? Or are you just dismissing me?” you questioned, crossing your own arms.
“Just you,” he deadpans, not feeling the need to explain himself further.
“Well, fuck that. I’m not leaving, so if you’ll excuse me,” you fumed, moving to reach for your sidearm on the table as he moves over, holding a hand out between the table and yourself.
“I can’t let you take that with so little sleep. It’s dangerous for both of us. Trust me, one slip up, and one of us is down,” he warns, holding his ground.
“Marshall, get out of my way. We have a job to do.”
“No, I have a job to do. You’re off the clock. Go home, kid,” he urged, holding his position.
“You’re gonna have to take me out of this mission by force, Marshall. Otherwise, I’m-”
You did not get to finish that sentence before Walter was taking you down on your stomach. A strong arm fully extended holding your left shoulder, while your right wrist is being restrained, would have been enough. But, this was Marshall after all and if he was anything, he was thorough. He straddles your hips, with just enough pressure to keep you down, but not enough to scratch a certain itch.
“I didn’t wanna have to do that,” Walter breathes, winded slightly from the takedown, “but you gave me no choice.” 
“Marshall, get the fuck off of me,” you growl, trying to buck him off.
“Yeah, kid, that’s not happening,” he spits, hooking his ankles over your thighs, “You’re lucky I don’t cuff you to keep you down.”
“So, what? You just looking for a reason to get me to obey you?” you challenge, struggling under his weight.
“As if you needed an excuse,” he laughs, straightening himself above you.
“Please! If you honestly think-”
“Give it a rest, I can smell your arousal from here,” he teased, lowering his hips a fraction and watching your squirm, “And before you say it’s not because of me, why couldn’t I smell it until after I had taken you down?”
“Fuck you, Marshall,” you scoff, trying to hold some semblance of control.
“Yeah, maybe if you did, you could get some fucking sleep,” he offers, his left hand moving from your shoulder down your arm, “But here you are, stubborn as hell.”
You lick your lips, considering his words. You wanted to get some release. You also wanted to sleep. 
Fuck it.
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“So, what’s it gonna be?” he queries, slowly starting to release your arms.
“I’m exhausted and I’m horny. But you’re doing all of the work, Marshall,” you say, lifting your hips to meet his crotch.
“That’s a good girl,” he hummed, releasing your arms before leaning up and off of you. You start to raise yourself before you are lifted and all but thrown on the bed and told to strip. Watching as his layers are quickly being shed, you all but rip away your clothing. 
Once fully naked, you look at Marshall where he stands watching you. Cock in hand, he pumps his massive length slowly while his eyes rake over you. “Tell me what you need,” he coaxed, his voice lower by at least an octave.
“Hurry the fuck up and put me to bed, Marshall, before I change my mind,” you threaten, your body thrumming under his gaze.
“You can change your mind at any time, you just say the word and this is over, yeah?” he informs, eyes connecting with yours.
“Heard,” you chime in, opening your legs for him. 
He kneels on the bed between your legs, reaching down to collect some of your wetness that glistens in the low light of the motel room. He lifts his hand to his mouth, sucking your juices off his fingers before plunging them inside you. “Fuck, girl, you are so wet for me. So fucking hot,” he moans, squelching sounds filling the room as he massages your inner bundle of nerves.
“Oh fuck, Daddy!” you squealed, completely out of your control.
“That’s it, girl, cum for me,” he goaded, his thumb moving to play with your swollen button.
It doesn’t take long before you feel that familiar tightening in your core, and Marshall must be the World’s Greatest Detective™ because he is pulling out his fingers and thrusting his cock inside your wet heat. Fucking you through your orgasm, your tight walls fluttering around him causing him to groan loudly.
“That’s one, let’s see if we can’t get you another, yeah?” he teases, melding your chests together as he wraps his arms around your center. From this angle, he can stimulate your clit while stroking deeply. And he does so at a punishing pace, his teeth nipping and kissing your neck. “Fuck, we shoulda done this years ago, girl. This pussy is fucking made for me.”
“Yes, Daddy,” you mewl, that time was completely on purpose.
Marshall leans up, leaving one arm around you while the other hand goes to your hair, baring your neck. “Who’s pussy is this, girl?” he challenges, even though he already knows.
“It’s yours, Daddy,” you whine, legs wrapping around his hips.
“That’s fucking right, it’s mine,” he praised, hips pistoning into you, “And I’m gonna ruin you for everyone else. You’re mine, girl.”
His growled claim of you paired with the way he fucks into you has your legs trembling around him instantly, your second orgasm of the night flowing through you.
“Hmmm, that’s my girl, taking Daddy’s cock so well,” he groans, the sound vibrating through the both of you. 
“Thank you, Daddy,” you moan, squeezing your thighs around Marshall, “I love your fucking cock.”
“That’s right you love this cock,” he growls, pulling out and manhandling you onto all fours, “Put Daddy’s cock back in, girl.”
You reach back and line him up, pushing back to impale yourself before moaning out at the angle change. Marshall grips your hips, plowing into you, no doubt chasing his own release now.
“Fucking cum inside me, Daddy,” you whimper, loving the sounds coming from your sodden cunt as it is pounded.
“I’m gonna breed this perfect pussy,” he grunts, hips stuttering until he pushes in as deep as can, cock twitching and painting your insides so full that it starts to leak past your entrance. He pulls out slightly before starting to fuck his cum back inside you. The sensation alone has your pussy quivering around him for the third time before you fall forward on your front.
Marshall laughs as he gets up from the bed, going to the en suite bathroom. You can hear him taking a piss and you know that you should as well to combat any chance of a UTI. But your legs aren’t listening yet so fuck that idea. 
Your eyes are already closed when you feel a wet warmth between your legs as Marshall is wiping down your swollen sex gently before you snuggle into the comforter being wrapped around you. A kiss is placed on your temple and soon you hear the rustling of clothes being put back on.
The sound of your motel room door opening and closing barely registers as you fall asleep.
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It is sometime later in the evening and you check your phone on the nightstand as it reads 12:12 AM. No need to make a wish. 
You take a quick shower and get dressed before heading over to the surveillance room. You are stopped outside of the room by a uniformed officer. “Detective Marshall asked me to keep you out. And he wanted me to give you this. That’s all I know, Ma’am.” The officer hands over a note and you step away and read it.
Hey,
I was serious about you getting some sleep. 
Get that ass back to bed.
Daddy will see you soon, girl.
Sweet dreams xx
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A/N: So, like I don’t know how I feel about how I wrote Walter here. This is not MY Walter, but I quite enjoyed this version of him.
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gggoldfinch · 7 months
Text
The Devil's Bow
Aether Ghoul x Fem!Reader
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(disclaimer: photo found on pinterest ^ )
A/N: I love aether so much it's not even funny, I miss him so fucking bad. I couldn't get his dumb beefcake ass out of my head so this is the unhinged result... I blame my hormones making me insanely feral warnings: pwp, monsterfucking, explicit sexual content, unprotected piv, loss of virginity, breeding kink, blood drinking, biting, praise kink, slight degradation, pet names, orgasm delay/ denial, religious imagery & symbolism word count: 8,675 {AO3 Link}
summary: Feeling rebellious and stupid, you decide that playing around with ritual incantations is a good way to vent your frustrations with your life. The only problem is that you don't read or speak Latin, and don't really believe anything will happen when you follow the directions and speak the words. You summon the wrong type of demon, but he isn't opposed to fulfilling the ritual request.
***
Some people start drinking or smoking to rebel against their overly-religious parents, but all you've done so far is fail to uphold any sort of belief in their faith— the one they forced upon you all throughout your tumultuous childhood, spent suffering in Catholic school. You're the disappointment of the family, talked about like a pariah and treated even more poorly. You try not to let it bother you, but the bitterness and rejection takes a form like a dark shadow, always lingering just over your shoulder, following you everywhere throughout life. It influences your stupid decisions, and most certainly fueled this particular one. 
When you went searching for spells and rituals, you didn't think you'd find one that actually works. You didn't think you'd find any that work, actually. It's hard not to grow jaded and skeptical of everything even remotely religious with zealot parents like your own. Sure you'd been a little nervous going into it, following the outlined directions to create the summoning circle—even more nervous as you stumbled through the Latin incantation—but still, you'd never once assumed anything would actually happen. You can't understand Latin, so honestly you have no fucking idea what you just said, or what you just summoned. A vacuous pit forms in your stomach like a black hole, spiking your bloodstream with mass amounts of adrenaline and fear.
Your knees ache where you kneel on the wooden floor, staring up at the form of a figure taking shape in the center of the summoning circle. It's a human shape, but you're not stupid enough to convince yourself that it's human. The strange cloud is backlit only by numerous flickering candles and the occasional bolt of lightning outside the thinly curtained bay windows. Rain patters an ominous drum beat against the windows, creating an ambiance suited to your growing terror at the moment. 
"Oh, God," you cry out. If there is a god, they're surely not looking out for you, of all people, in this instance.
You scramble to your feet, legs shaking so hard that you can barely keep yourself upright. Your trembling hands fist your long nightgown with enough force to turn your knuckles white. The sickening scent of ozone and blood permeates the air as the creature continues to materialize; the silver cloud that surrounds the shadowy silhouette begins to crystallize into a tangible form. A tangible, and decidedly nude form. The body is humanoid, build of a tall and thick-set man, though his skin is a startling shade of slate grey. Beefy arms and thighs look like they can crush you without second thought, and his thick abdomen is like a sturdy tree trunk. Large and evidently clawed hands are folded rather daintily over the man-creature's groin, covering what you can only assume to be his similarly endowed manhood. The silver cloud coalesces with finality into a chrome helmet concealing his head; it looks like a devil face, with a pointed chin—reminiscent of the classic depiction of satan with a van dyke beard—and a smooth lack of a mouth. Though the head is tilted back, you can still make out how the helm even has two little horns and sculpted hair. It completely obscures whatever sort of face this beast may possess, and that feels more frightening than potentially seeing its true face. 
The masked head snaps to attention from its lax tilt, immediately focusing on you. You've managed to put a considerable amount of distance between yourself and the summoning circle, but it feels all for naught under the intensity of the man-creature's stare. Hauntingly pale and slit-pupil eyes stare out at you through the almond-shaped eye holes of the chrome mask. A strangled gasp slips from your throat and you attempt to stumble backwards another shaking step. 
The demon—for now you're sure that's what it is—breaks his gaze from you and casts those haunting eyes to the floor, curiously examining the summoning circle arranged around his bare feet. The peculiar tilt of his head strikes you as a look of confusion, for whatever reason. You watch in rapt awe and horror as he breaks his stiff posture to slowly sink to one knee, unfurling his folded hands to gingerly trace along the chalk drawing on the floor. 
"The sigil is correct, you must have spoken the incantation incorrectly." The demon's voice is deep and silky, yet nearly two-toned as it reaches your ears, like two voices speaking at once— simultaneously a full-toned bass and a feathery whisper. It feels like all other noise in the room is sucked out in a vacuum the moment he speaks. "Or else I wouldn't be here."
Thundering heart in your throat, you realize the demon is saying you performed the ritual incorrectly and wouldn't have summoned him otherwise. You're unsure if he means you wouldn't have summoned anything at all, or if you wouldn't have summoned him in particular. You don't know if this is good news either, and aren't really excited to find out. The enormous figure slowly rises to his feet, and for the first time you see a spaded tail flicking back and forth behind him. The tail is thick at the base and prehensile, sturdy like a lash. 
"I— Oh my God," you whisper. Your trembling fingers come up to cover your treacherous mouth. "I didn't think it would work."
The laugh that peals from beneath the mouthless mask shakes you down to your very bones. You whimper when the man-creature takes a step over the scribbled line chalk. The wood floor creaks under his weight even as he places his clawed feet down with deliberately controlled steps. The demon stalks towards you across the room, shortening the distance between you with each lengthy stride.
"Oh, little lamb," he purrs, voice like honey and thorns, "God has nothing to do with this. You've summoned me, now I've come to do what has been requested of me."
A pathetic little sob works its way up out of your throat and you can't choke it down before it slips past your lips. Nor can you control the fearful tears that spring forth from your eyes, spilling down your cheeks in hot trails. Your back bumps against the far wall and your hands scrabble against it for any sort of purchase. 
"Ohhh, what did I do," you wail, pressing yourself as far away from the approaching beast as you can possibly manage. "Please don't kill me! Please, I didn't know! I didn't know what it said!" 
You know if this demon is truly intent on devouring you or, dragging your soul to Hell, or torturing you for all eternity, no amount of pleading can save you. Yet, your human nature forces the words out of your mouth regardless of whether they'll work or not. 
Through a blur of tears and squinted lids, you watch as the demon reaches up and hooks its thick fingers under the lip of its helmet. Your eyes avoid his face, instead watching the metal helm as it's brought down to his side, then dropped with a weighty thud to the floor. The helmet is so heavy it doesn't even rock upon impact, just drops straight down like a sack of boulders. You squeeze your eyes shut then, turning your face to the side to avoid laying eyes on the demon as he looms over you. You feel his shadow draped over you like a cold blanket, smothering you in impossible darkness. This close, you can feel the blistering heat of his body through your thin nightgown; the scent of Frankincense and coriander fills your nostrils. You wonder if this is a comforting ruse to draw you in, the way a predator deceives and lures its prey. 
"You don't know what what said, lamb?" His hot breath wafts across your cheek, raising goosebumps on your skin. 
"T-The incantation," you gasp out. You feel the figure draw up and back at that, almost as if he's backed away slightly. 
"You don't understand Latin?" 
His two-tone voice takes on a bit of an edge. You clamp your eyes shut even tighter, seeing stars dance beneath your lids, and fervently shake your head no in response. 
"I'm not going to kill you." His voice is shockingly gentle now, face closer to yours again. Warm, clawed digits find their way to your jaw, gently maneuvering your head to face forward. You don't resist the demon's ministrations, allowing him to tilt your face up towards his. You continue you squeeze your eyes shut, however, unable to will yourself to look upon his face. "Look at me, pretty girl." 
He gives your head a little bit of a shake and a tiny huff of breath slips through your parted lips. You hesitantly peel your eyes open. First, you only see a strong chin and thin grey lips, curled upward at one corner. Then, a small pointed nose is revealed, studded with a thick gunmetal ring through the left nostril. Then those eyes meet yours once more, large and all-encompassing— chilling to behold. Full, heavy eyebrows arch over those pale eyes, and small horns crest a high forehead. Heavily pierced and decidedly pointed ears jut out from either side of his closely shaven head, and either side of his face is bracketed by mutton chop sideburns. The face of the demon would actually be rather charming if you weren't afraid for your life and soul right now.  
"There you are."
You hold your breath in your lungs like a bomb will go off if you exhale. The fingers on your jaw draw you closer, and the demon makes a show to brush his nose and lips against yours, just barely light enough to feel. He breathes into your slightly open mouth and you inhale the bittersweet air with little resistance. 
"You called upon an incubus, which I am not. But I am not opposed to fulfilling your request." Those eyes hold yours as he speaks into your mouth. "Do you even know what you requested, silly little girl?" 
His airy tone isn't remotely malicious, which incites both relief and an entirely new form of worry. You timidly shake your head again without breaking his entrancing eye contact, the tip of your nose swiping lightly against his. A broad, amused smile spreads across his face, revealing innumerable fangs and bluish black gums. You swallow thickly, eyes darting between his pale reptilian eyes and the grinning maw of knife-like teeth. 
"Sweet thing, you should get in the habit of doing more research," he chuckles, dipping his head low to brush your nose with his again. The way his heavily lidded eyes begin to roam your face and neck is almost... sultry...? That hand at your jaw shifts, a clawed thumb tracing the seam of your soft lips. "Silly little human girls like you perform rituals like that to summon a demon to fulfill your needs..." 
He seems entirely too smug as he says that, almost like he's playing it up just to fluster you. He succeeds, as heat immediately floods your cheeks and pools unbidden between your thighs. You squirm at the sudden unfurling of arousal in your core, blossoming like a sinful flower. You suck in a breath and the demon takes the opportunity to slip his thumb between your lips. The taste of his skin is sharp and bitter in the way bonfire smoke is, his claw probing against your tongue. Your heart pounds in the confines of your chest, though not necessarily out of fear anymore. Nostrils flared and eyes wide, you pant against his hand, wrapping your lips around his thick knuckle. 
"An incubus might ask for something in return, but seeing how you summoned me instead, by mistake... Well, I pride myself on being generous. I'll give you a free pass this time, if only to feel you on the inside." 
He removes his thumb from your mouth only to press his lips to yours in a light, decidedly chaste kiss. You hum against his grey lips, finding yourself rising on your toes to meet him when he retreats. 
"What do you say, lamb? What do you say to the offer of indescribable pleasure?"
Your knees nearly buckle beneath you at his words. Performing a dumb ritual is one thing, but fucking a demon is a whole other level of rebellion. You hadn't known that's what the ritual was for, but you're not entirely apt to complain about it now. The more you look at him, the more attractive the demon gets, and you can't deny how interested you are; he's a strapping specimen of a man, human or not, and you aren't blind to the bestial sexuality he exudes. The thrill of disobedience and the dark unknown sears through your veins and mixes with adrenaline and arousal to create an intoxicating cocktail of recklessness. With a pathetic whining breath you raise your hands and paw experimentally at the demon's broad chest. Your fingertips dance through the thick hair across his steadily rising and falling chest, testing boundaries by curiously tugging at it. 
The demon growls, the noise rumbling beneath your hands like an earthquake. His horned head darts down and in an instant he is nosing your throat, roughly enough to bump the back of your head against the paneled wall. The metal ring in his nostril is cold against your heated skin and your pulse pounds against his lips. You're already breathless and titillated when he raises his mouth to your ear, whispering so sinfully and so intimately.
"It too will be my pleasure in corrupting a pure, innocent virgin like yourself," he growls into your ear. 
A thrill drags its cold fingers up your spine and you involuntarily arch up into his front. He laughs, slipping a hand to the small of your back to press you closer. Your bare bodies are separated only by your gauzy nightgown. You can feel his arousal pressed into your stomach, thick and hard and throbbing against you. You'd been so focused on his handsome face that you'd failed to notice his erection and now you're too intimidated to chance a glance at it sandwiched between your bodies. 
"H-How do you know that I— That I'm—"
Instead of answering, the demon claims your mouth, kissing you deeply, savagely. His lips slot against your own with a perfect bruising force. You gasp at being caught off guard and feel a long tongue slip between your lips. He licks into your mouth, tasting your teeth and tongue like he's partaking in the most delicious forbidden fruit. His tongue is sweet and somewhat cloying as you suck lightly on it, panting through your nose as he crushes his face against yours. Hands grope at your hips and ass, bunching up the back of your nightgown and gently raking the skin beneath with the tips of his claws. You break away to heave for breath and some semblance of stability. Your fingers flex against his collarbone and slip up to his thick neck, tracing up the twin columns of muscle and tendon. 
The half-lifted hem of your nightgown rustles around your calves, then you feel something begin to snake up the length of your leg; it takes a moment to realize that it's his prehensile tail. A shiver of delight and perturbation racks your frame when the spaded tip slips around the back of your leg and caresses the tender skin of your inner thigh, just below where you ache for him. Your fingers scratch the base of his neck, unable to find an anchor point on his shaven scalp. You're so sensitive under his touch, feeling stimulated in ways you've never experienced— and he's barely even done anything yet. 
Just when you think he's going to touch you where you need him to, the tail slips away from beneath your smock and his hands retreat from your rear. Your eyes go wide and desperate, your hands petting the back of his fuzzy head as if you can coax him back into touching you. 
"You're so trusting," he purrs. Again, there's no malice in his wispy baritone, but you get the distinct impression he's gently scolding you. 
Without warning, your body is pushed back against the wall completely— yet, the demon still isn't touching you. The force holding you still is as strong as gravity, akin only to the centrifugal force of those flying saucer amusement park rides. Your breathing quickens anxiously, staring silently up at the pale eyes of the demon for any explanation. He doesn't do anything other than hold your gaze though, even as your feet lose connection with the floor and your head nears the crown molding. 
Your poor heart thunders in your throat, making it hard to breathe properly as you find yourself suspended flat against the ceiling. Clenched eyes avoid looking down upon the candlelit room— upon the summoning circle you were stupid enough to throw together. Gravity pulls against you as if you're lying on the floor rather than the ceiling, which is more disorienting than it is frightening once you acclimate to it. Your nightgown and hair lay flat against the plaster in a way that doesn't make sense to your discombobulated brain. It's realistically only a few moments before you find the courage to peek your eyes open, but to you it feels like time has elongated exponentially. The demon stands amused beneath you, head tilted back and hands on his sturdy hips like a suburban dad surveying a particularly interesting weather occurrence overhead. He still sports a raging erection, which paired with the stance and scenario would be a little funny if not for your concentration on not getting dizzy. 
"L-Let me down," you whisper, eyes squeezing shut again as you battle down nausea. 
"Only if you ask nicely, pretty girl," the demon shoots back. You can hear the grin in his voice, taunting you. 
"P-Please, please. You're right, I'm too trusting. Please let me down now." 
All at once the gravity that had been suspending you to the ceiling releases and you're falling and falling and... the demon catches you and cradles you against his chest with thick arms slung under your back and legs. You breathe heavily and clutch the nightgown over your palpitating heart, eyes popping open to fix him with a startled look. Perhaps you are too trusting, but it's clear the man-creature has had everything under his careful control from the very start of this interaction. Your eyes wandering down to his mouth is enough to lure him into another passionate kiss.
You're remotely aware of the bulky man kneeling as he continues kissing you. Then, you're laid down on the floor with a shockingly tender amount of care, like one would lay down a doll or a baby. His powerful hands find your bent knees and begin to slide up the length of your thighs, fingers splayed to span the flesh. The slow motion gradually rucks up your nightgown, revealing inch by inch of the vulnerable skin of your lightly trembling legs. He kisses you to distract you, but you clench your thighs to conceal your modesty either way, squirming at the pressure it puts on your clit. 
"Ah, eager little thing," he says in a moment you must part for breath. "I'll make sure to make this last."
Nails drag through the groomed facial hair outlining his face. Your panting breaths mingle with his steady ones where your mouths meet and part rhythmically. His hands continue upward, sliding fluidly from your thighs to your hips, continuing onward up your tender sides. The drafty, damp air of the room kisses your freshly bared stomach, drawing a pitiful groan from high in your throat. Big and warm hands reverently knead your flesh as he continues exploring and dragging your nightgown upward. His hands chase away the cold chill of the hardwood floor, warming up your insides like a fire. Finally the bunched nightgown comes to rest above your tits and the demon swallows your gasp when the cold air meets your chest. 
He pulls back to admire you as those broad, rough hands paw greedily at your tits. You squirm and arch into the touch. His long black claws dimple into supple flesh as he kneads in earnest, teasing as they dip into the tender swells but avoid piercing the skin. He opens his mouth and you witness his tongue for the first time— the black muscle unfurling longer than any human tongue. He squeezes your breast and laves his tongue over the overly sensitive nipple, pebbled hard from the chill. Grey lips fold around the bud as he sucks, followed shortly by the pinpricks of those razor-sharp fangs playfully nipping at you. Your lungs convulse in shock and you push your tits into his face. Your body is so sensitive and reactive, everything responding to him in ways you never could have imagined. 
You writhe restlessly under the demon's skillful touch, whining louder as he continues playing with your tits. Only when he has sucked and bitten several red spots does he move on from your chest. Lips trail between your breasts and down the center of your stomach, black tongue tracing wet lines which cool in the air and raises goosebumps along your abdomen. One of his hands wedges between your tightly clenched knees, prying your legs apart with little effort. The man-creature's thick body slips between your thighs before you can clamp them shut again, exposing your glistening core to him. 
Heat prickles your face and pools between your opened thighs, embarrassment and excitement warring for dominance. Bent over your prone form, the demon leisurely rakes his claws up and down your sides, narrowed eyes observing your body and reactions appreciatively. Your own hands repeatedly chase his as they smooth over your skin, and are repeatedly pushed out of the way in order for him to continue rubbing up and down your ribs. The black keratin claws leave long red lines, using just enough pressure to leave visible marks but enough to not draw blood. His power and restraint is humbling and frightening, and terribly arousing. 
Holding your eyes rapt with his own, the man-shaped beast slowly begins to lower himself until he's close enough to dip his face between the thickest portion of your thighs. His hands forcefully clamp down around the small of your waist and keep you pinned when he drags his pierced nose through your dripping folds, nudging your swollen clit before surfacing. You pant frantically and squirm in his unforgiving grip, desperately clutching the backs of his hands. It's almost uncomfortable how foreign the feeling is, but the thought and feeling of his face buried in your sex is so undeniably arousing that it drowns out the discomfort. He dips down again, and nosing you. This time he allows his devilish tongue to slither out and taste you. It laps at your dripping entrance, trailing up to circle your throbbing clit. A bolt of electric pleasure shoots through you and you cry out, hands flying from his to grasp at his shaven head. Your fingers hook around the small horns at his high hairline and use them as leverage to pull him closer and grind yourself onto his face. The pads of your thumbs emphatically trace up the front of the little beige horns and that elicits a full, rumbling moan from the lips of your inhuman lover into your core. 
The demon grinds your clit with his nose and laps at your wetness with his tongue, yet does not penetrate you. Your hips buck and muscles seize with the concentrated attention to your swollen bud, body racked with spasms of euphoria. He drags it out longer than you've ever lasted on your own before, somehow able to sense every single time you begin to near orgasm. Every time you feel your completion slip away you wail and rub at his horns, as if you can butter him up and coax him to properly finish you by massaging his erogenous zones. Though each time he gives an unrestrained moan and enthusiastic squeeze to your waist, he never lets up nor lets you come. 
Finally he does something different, but it's not what you'd been anticipating. He draws back entirely, kneeling between your heavily trembling thighs. His smug face glistens with your wetness and he licks his lips in satisfaction. His gaze is dark and hungry, devouring you with just a look. Before you can protest, he grasps your hips and hauls you towards him, yanking your bottom half up onto his bent thighs. You squeal and attempt to wriggle away, feeling entirely too vulnerable and exposed in this position. He shushes you and pets your sides soothingly before returning his bruising grip to the fullness of your hips. Your knees brace insecurely against his ribs, calves hugging against his lower back. The tail begins to stroke your left calf, further pacifying you. 
"Go on, pretty girl. If you want me you'll have to finish yourself first," he croons. "Put on a show for me, baby." 
Your breath hitches at his words. Drunk on the prolonged high of his teasing, your palm begins caressing down the length of your bare body, fingers splaying as you explode the swells and curves of your own body for him. You don't know how to put on a show or impress him, but the way he's looking at you makes you think it's working regardless. The demon's slitted eyes watch your every movement with a fascinated intensity, memorizing each motion and noise you make under your own hand. His nostrils flare with interest and arousal when your hand finally sinks between your elevated thighs. Your middle two digits tentatively finger your engorged clit, working up a frenzy. Watching you rubbing tight circles on your clit elicits a deep, rumbling growl from the demon and he slaps his hands down on your thighs, keeping a tight hold on you as you twitch and writhe.
From this angle, with your hips, thighs, and ass propped up on his meaty thighs, his erect manhood bobs just above the apex of your thighs where your hand meets your cunt. A pearly bead of precum drips onto your hand and runs between the cracks of your fingers, which are still dutifully hard at work. You only notice now that you can see the fullness of his cock, but there are several definite ridges along its shaft, leading to a somewhat tapered, pointed tip. The thought of what they may feel like inside you has a fresh wave of arousal gushing in your core. You squirm under his relentless stare, mewling as your fingers milk your own pleasure. You chase the white-hot release in your core higher and higher over the peak of ecstasy, nearly to the point of sobbing when you orgasm. Claws sink into the meat of your thighs as you tense and tremble under him, your mouth dropping open in a gasping moan.
The beast leans down and practically folds you in half to meet your open mouth with a rough and rapacious kiss. His sweet tongue licks into your mouth, drinking up your panting breaths and high-pitched whimpers. There is no coming down from the high of your orgasm— not when he is pinning your thighs to your chest and kissing you like you're the air he breathes. He isn't discreet in the way he grinds his heavy cock between your folds, coating himself in your liquid desire. 
"Such a good girl," he hisses out, dragging his numerous fangs along your jaw. "Such a good little whore for me. Do you want me to fuck you like one?" 
You let out something between a wail and a moan, nodding frantically against the scruff of his sideburn. He slides his hands up the bare backs of your thighs, hooking his thumbs around the bends in your knees to keep you sufficiently pinned in place. The position makes you short of breath, squeezing each panting huff from your straining lungs. The demon noses your cheek and you feel the press of his weight and his teeth when he speaks.
"Use your words, pretty girl. I know you haven't been fucked dumb yet because I've barely even touched you."
You try your hardest to squirm beneath his considerable weight but only succeed in grinding yourself against his throbbing cock. 
"P— Please," you gasp, "I ne— I need you to fu-uck me!"
"Good girl," he purrs. 
He leaves a surprisingly tender kiss against the corner of your mouth and you find yourself chasing his lips, seeking out the sickly sweet taste of his mouth. He chuckles when you eagerly peck his lips a few successive times, though allows you to continue with the innocent indulgence. He has far more sinful things in mind, after all. The candles around the room flicker, a crack of thunder rattles the windows. 
The demon shifts your legs to one side, both knees straining to bend over his right shoulder. With one hand freed—the other still holding your legs in place—he seeks out the chalice of your forbidden nectar, slipping his clawed fingers in between your puffy folds. With a deftness that isn't as surprising as it is comforting, he slips two fingers into your pussy without so much as brushing you with his talons. You jerk against his restraining pressure when he crooks those fingers inside you and strokes a spot that makes you see stars. You convulse at the feeling, pushing your hips into the overpowering sensation.
He pets the sensitive spot inside you a few times more before removing his hand from you. It instead wedges between your bodies where he grasps his cock and thoroughly coats it with your slick, pumping himself up for good measure, as if he isn't already hard as stone. You jolt when he runs the swollen, slightly pointed head over your clit and whimper when he ruts against your cunt. The breath is completely stolen from your lungs when he presses into you, sinking into the wet heat of your soaked pussy. He groans sinfully, baring his innumerable sharp teeth as he sinks deeper. The ribbed ridges pop inside you one by one, slowly dragging along your velvety interior. Folded in half like this, you feel his thick length penetrating deep inside you, deeper than you could've ever thought possible. You think you feel him in the back of your throat, sinking further and further into your heat seemingly without end. The stretch and sting is immense, but nothing in comparison to the utterly blissful feeling of fullness.
You gasp for air once the beast finally reaches the hilt, gulping down greedy lungfuls like you've never breathed a moment in your life. Already, sweat is beading on your face and in the valley between your breasts, yet the hulking man-creature barely looks winded above you. He examines your flushed and debauched face with a sort of scientific interest; his inhumanly pale, slit-pupil eyes roam over your features like one would observe a creature they've never seen before. Above all, he looks at you with an indescribable hunger, which threatens to spill out and consume you whole. 
"How does it feel, little lamb?" he asks with a toothy grin, taking smug pleasure in your fucked-out delirium. He leans in close, making sure you can hear his words as he continues in a low, husky tone. "How does it feel to be defiled and deflowered by an infernal creature like me?" 
Punctuating his sinful words, he grinds hard into you, drawing out a pitiful wheeze from your abused lungs. The base of his cock grinds against your clit, the friction making you whine and desperately claw at his thick shoulders. The more he prolongs this the more it begins to feel like some form of torture, and you start to feel yourself brimming with sudden, frustrated tears. You didn't know how much you needed this until it is being dangled just out of reach. Everything is still painfully over-sensitive, and your pathetic yearning for him and for another release is becoming too much to bear. He hasn't even fucked you yet and you can already tell you're going to be insatiable. 
"Poor little lamb, so hungry for me," the demon coos, a smidge patronizingly. He removes his stabilizing hand from your legs to caress your hot, sweating face, wiping away the exasperated tears that have squeezed out past your clenched eyelids. "There there, no need to cry. I'll fuck you, pretty girl, just like you want." 
He leans back just slightly—giving you a bit extra room to draw in a whole breath—and with him he takes the feeling of being stuffed full. His ridged cock pulls out nearly all the way, leaving your pussy to twitch around nothing in nervous anticipation. You tilt your head back, shifting in suspense and swimming in the prolonged feeling of borderline euphoria; almost there, but not quite. You try to focus on steadying your breathing—
The sound drawn from your throat when he thrusts himself back inside you is nearly animalistic. Your nails dig into meaty shoulders, leaving behind little crescent marks that pale in comparison to what you imagine his can do. He chuckles at your shock as he thrusts into you again, apparently amused that he'd managed to catch you so off-guard. All you can do is wantonly moan and let your head loll back, drowning in the sensory experience of this humanoid beast taking you on the floor, surrounded by candles and the proof of your stupid recklessness. 
A grey hand slaps down on the floor beside your head, bracing the sturdy body above you as he fucks into. Each thrust is enthusiastic and powerful, yet you can still sense some amount of restraint being utilized. Though you want him to fuck you in earnest, the small voice of reason in the back of your mind reminds you that this inhuman creature could very well kill you without even trying; you don't invite him to push harder or faster, trusting him to set a pace that won't leave you with internal damage. Turning your head to the side reveals the face of the chrome helmet he had dropped, its hollow eyes staring into your own. You swallow a hiccuped breath and turn your face back to the demon. 
You don't know if he's ever looked away from your face, but regardless he meets your gaze when you return it to him. His thick eyebrows are knotted tightly over icy, half-lidded eyes which sparkle with devious delight. He huffs with each thrust into you, concentrating hard on keeping a steady rhythm while also keeping his attention on your dewey face. Somewhere in your periphery over and around the mass of the demon's hulking frame, you take note of his spaded tail rapidly thumping the floor where it's draped leisurely, the end wagging like an excitable dog's. You realize, admittedly a bit belatedly, that he's enjoying this just as much as you are. Your face pinches as you moan, shuddering against him as he pauses his rough pistoning to grind into you. 
He sits up during this moment of pseudo reprieve, relieving you of his crushing weight. You gulp down full breaths again, allowing him to guide your legs down, resuming the half-elevated position from before. You can feel as each of those strange ridges drive in and out, aiding his hearty girth in stretching you out. The gentler thrusting drags his pointed cockhead across that spongey spot inside you, and as if reading your mind, he places a palm down just above your pubic bone and presses. You choke out a sobbing moan, bucking against him as he rams himself into that pressurized spot. His single hand spans a large enough area that he can maintain pressure on your lower abdomen and stimulate your clit simultaneously, looming over you like a shadow while wearing a delighted little smirk. His brows remain tightly knit, still concentrated on chasing his own pleasure as well as yours as he impales you over and over. With pupils so dilated they could almost look normal, he drinks in the sight of your spasming body, gaze lingering particularly long on where he splits you open on his cock. 
Through pants and whines, you manage to work up enough strength to speak; "Y— Nngh— You feel so good." 
Instantly you feel him twitch inside you in response, notice his tail whipping behind him just a little more frenetically. The hand not busy with pleasuring you rubs up the length of your torso, coming up to grope your breast as he bends forward by a fraction. You stretch slightly to grasp both of his thick wrists, while taking your lower lip between your teeth and bucking against him enthusiastically. 
"Such a good girl, taking me so well," he grits out from between clenched fangs. "What a good little whore I'll make you. Pretty thing... all for me." 
Your cunt flutters around him and he groans loud. His deft thumb catches your clit perfectly and you feel that welcome tension coil rapidly like a taut spring. At the prompting of your particularly noisy wail he circles his thumb harder, faster, and more pointedly until you come fully undone around him. Your thighs dig into his flanks and the walls of your pussy clench hard around his pulsing cock, gushing fluids sucking him deeper while your muscles try to expel him with the force of your orgasm. The muscles in your abdomen seize up and you curl in on yourself as pleasure rocks your twitching body, sobbing out in ecstasy and exhaustion. 
The beast relentlessly fucks you through your second orgasm, and afterward. He uses both hands securely on your hips as leverage to repeatedly spear you onto himself. Nearly entirely listless as you recover from your earth-shattering orgasm, all you can bring yourself to do is rake your nails up and down his hairy forearms, admiring the muscles as they flex beneath granite toned skin. Those hard ribs along his cock rake out spasms of shivering overstimulation, bringing you to the point of overwhelmed tears again. 
The grip on your hips grows punishing and you're sure bruises will begin to blossom under the pads of his clawed fingers. His flicking tail curls up in a spiral and his broad shoulders pitch forward. A mighty tremble rattles his frame in the same moment as his length twitches inside you, and you feel it as his hot release paints your insides. The man-creature roars through clenched teeth and bows forward, touching his forehead to your damp chest. His hips continue bucking as you milk the last of his considerable release. 
You feel boneless in his grasp, stuffed so completely full of him that you can feel a bit of his seed trickling out around his girth. Every other breath that seeps from your lungs comes out as a pitiful mewl. The demon stirs overtop you, dragging his pierced nose up the middle of your chest to your throat. He stretches out above you, shifting your legs and his own while still keeping himself buried within you. His tail unfurls and whips back and forth in a large arc, far more animatedly than before. He licks at your steadily relaxing pulse, sucking tenderly at the thrumming spot. Your tired arms reach up and drape around his broad torso, scratching lightly at his back where muscles ripple and flex. 
The demon shifts from overtop you, removing himself from your sensitive core. You feel each ridge as he pulls out, spilling a messy trail of cum out of you. Big hands paw at the nightgown still bunched up at your collarbone, drawing the gauzy thing up over your head and off your arms. He tosses it aside somewhere, yet none of the flickering candles are disturbed, as if they're all in a sustained state of suspended animation. Thunder and lightning continue to roil outside the bay windows, smothering the outside world down to the concentrated space within this solitary room. You sigh against the demon's scruffy sideburn and kiss his cheek, hung with your arms encircling his sturdy neck. 
"Oh, my sweet little thing, how precious you are." He kisses your cheek in turn and then pulls back to run his hands up and down your sides like he just can't get enough. "This beautiful body... all for me, isn't it?"
You nod faintly while your eyelids flutter as he continues to affectionately pet you. He catches fast onto you increasing tiredness and chuckles. 
"Come on little lamb," he coaxes, nipping gingerly at the column of your throat. "Don't fall asleep on me now, pretty girl. I'm not done with you yet." 
You actually whine a little at the thought of being manhandled anymore. Your muscles ache and the hardwood floor certainly isn't an ideal place to lose your virginity to an oddly compassionate demon. Your tune slowly begins to change when he leans down to your ear, at the same time one hand slips between your legs to gather up the cum that seeped out and pump it back into you. 
He drags his nose and lips over the shell of your ear, teasing you with his fangs as he whispers; "You want my infernal seed to stick, don't you?" The beast crooks his thick fingers against that special spot in your cunt, drawing out a hoarse moan. He withdraws his fingers only to splay his hand out over your stomach. "My virginal bride, your belly swollen with my pup... Tell me that's what you want." 
"Mmm..."  You squirm beneath him, nuzzling your face against his. 
"Your words, lamb," he growls into your ear. 
Another petulant whine builds up in your throat, but you resist the urge to loose it. Warmth blossoms anew in your cheeks and between your legs, scandalized and intrigued by his salaciously worded suggestion. A rationally thinking you would be horrified at the idea, but right now it's all you can do not to moan and writhe and beg the big guy to fuck you stupid again. 
Yet, that's exactly what you find yourself doing anyway, despite fatigue making itself a home in your heavy limbs. 
"Nngh... Yes, yes. I want that." You bite your lip and wiggle your hips, as if he needs any further enticing. "Please, I want you. Give me more."
"Good girl, good baby. Come here." 
His thick arms encompass you, spreading their warmth throughout your body. He has no trouble in hoisting you up off your back, listless as you are. Nor does he have a problem with maneuvering you around like a doll once you're up. He twists you around in his arms, slotting a knee between yours to knock them apart. You jolt in surprise and he lurches you forward, rousing you from your sleepy state as he pins your front to the cold floor. Your breathing quickens, hands scrambling to push yourself out of this vulnerable position. The beast drapes himself over you before you can shift away, nuzzling into the mussed hair behind close by ear. You turn your head and strain to keep an eye on him, right cheek pressed hard to the floor. His knees keep yours spread, his weight pushing your front nearly completely flat against the wood floor. One hand snakes beneath your body to prod at your pulsing clit. 
"That's a good girl," he purrs. His breath is hot on your ear. "You can do it, one more round." 
Your brows pitch up and eyes screw shut is a silent moan, pussy fluttering around nothing. Your hips push back against him as he circles your abused clit, milking fresh euphoria from the sacred bundle of nerves. You feel the expansion and deflation of his broad chest against your back, his erection bobbing between your cleaved legs. His tail winds around one of your thighs, squeezing like a thin python. His other hand seeks out his cock, taking time to run the pointed tip over your reactive clit. You're not sure if it's sensitivity from your previous orgasms and the enthusiastic fucking on the demon's part, but you feel so tender to every touch. Your breasts against the floor ache and your core throbs with a desperate need— your thirst unslakable. 
The demon gradually plunges himself into your soaked cunt, letting each ridge sink into you at an agonizingly slow rate. Nearly instantly those strange, inhuman protrusions drag just right against the front wall of your pussy, earning him a choked wail of ecstasy, your hips pushing back to meet his. This must be what the ribbing is for, you decide, and with that you're positively ruined for any other human man. You can never imagine anything better than this feeling of wanton yearning and fireworks he facilitates. 
Keeping you snug against his front, the demon begins his brutal pounding again. Each savage thrust drives the air from your lungs in unbidden wheezes and groans. His dick batters the gummy spot within you and his thick fingers work you from the outside, generating a mind-numbing and sweetly painful euphoria. His long, hot tongue slithers along the portion of spine between your scapula, sharp teeth nipping experimentally across your left shoulder. 
"You're doing so well. Just a little more, then I'll let you rest, beautiful. Just a little more." 
Teeth sink into your skin and you wail in agony and ecstasy, his fingers and cock drawing out your third shuddering orgasm. Hot blood pools in the demon's mouth, running down the junction of your shoulder and neck where it drips to the floor from the curve of your jaw. The scent of sweat and blood and sex is overpowering as you gasp for breath, sobbing and moaning as you clench around his bludgeoning length. 
The beast licks at the fresh bite wound, soothing the pain with his black tongue. Already the pain has begun to alleviate, replaced with a delightful sort of ache that, against your better judgement, leaves you wanting more. His hand beneath your body shifts upward, skating along your stomach to arch you up against him more effectively. After several more deep thrusts like this his hand continues its search upward. While maintaining his unforgiving pace the demon throws his weight backward and yanks you up by the throat, thick fingers effortlessly pinching the arteries at either side of your neck. 
He tips backward with your back laid to his chest, still keeping your knees spread wide with his own, your ass supported by his bulky thighs. Your stomach is covered by one of his enormous hands, your neck by the other— held in place against him by his granite arms and spearing cock. Though your vision is blurry with exhaustion and rapturous tears, you can still make out the trail of fresh blood which now trickles down between your breasts. Since pulling you up the demon has bitten you again and again, devotedly laving his tongue over the bites each time. You don't even register it as pain now, only the thrill of adrenaline as it floods your overworked system and adds to your heady pleasure. You're positively drunk on him. 
You reach behind you and grasp at the back of the demon's shaven head, holding onto him for stability as he rocks up into you. Straining eyes peer down the length of your own body, to where his glistening length disappears into you over and over. The wily fingers of your other hand slip to your pussy, spread around his shaft to feel in awe as he pumps into you. The mere concept of being split open like this has you moaning shamelessly and arching your throat into his palm. His stony shades of ash and charcoal contrast such an erotic difference against your human skin, human body. Your hand at the base of his neck fumbles lower, seeking out that mysterious tail that routinely enraptures you. 
The beast rumbles approvingly when you finally grasp the thick base of the prehensile appendage. You stroke his tail to the rhythm of his upward thrusts, petting the charming peach fuzz and squeezing it hard when he delivers a particular aggressive plunge. Without thinking very clearly, you wind the thinner end around your palm like a rope, using it as leverage to tug. 
Those knife teeth pierce your skin again where your right shoulder intersects with your neck, drinking up the virginal blood he spills with great verve and appetite. The hand at your throat slides upward to your jaw, tilting your head to face him. Your eyes flutter shut and lips part to welcome his sticky kiss. You're met with a mouthful of your own lifeblood, syphoned from his hot mouth into yours. You splutter on your shock, choking down the thick, metallic liquid he forces past your lips. It leaves a bitter tang on your tongue as he continues kissing you. His steady bucking is gradually becoming more feverish and sloppy, jostling you roughly in the cage of his arms. 
"J-Just one more for me, baby. I know you can," he groans against your cheek, smearing your blood from on his mouth and nose across your flushed skin. 
His hand on your stomach presses down in that particular way, stringing out that coil of tension from within you. You catch his lips and he swallows your cry, restraining your writhing and twitching as the peak of release quickly snaps. Your sucking pussy spasms and chokes out his throbbing cock, bringing him over the edge with you. The demon sinks you on his shaft as far as you can fit, making damn sure he's spurting his hot seed onto your sore cervix. He grunts and pants against your gaping mouth, lidded eyes triumphantly absorbing your fucked-out exhaustion. 
He's shockingly gentle when he lifts you off his cock and bolsters you, compassionately licking the sweat and blood and wounds ringed around your shoulders and neck like a gruesome necklace. Your chest heaves, body thoroughly spent. Your body is tender and sore when the demon lays you down.
"You did so well, my perfect girl. I'm so proud of you."
The demon looms over you where he splayed you out on your back, planting soft kisses across your face. You groan, pawing at his chest hovering by your head. You feel his fingertips fondly tracing the spots where he'd bitten you, somehow scarred over already. Your heart aches, filled with a bizarre and affectionate longing for him. You hold your trembling legs together, your core puffy and overworked and weeping with his cum. It trickles around the curves of your ass, pooling on the floor beneath you where it cools; he doesn't scoop it back in this time. Your womb twinges, hips aching. 
You can't imagine wanting anyone else in this way now; he is all you desire. His delirious worship of you plants itself in your mind and takes root, wheedling its way into your sense of reality like an insidious weed. He said he wouldn't take anything from you, but you have half the mind to offer your soul to him, if only for him to make good on his word and take you as his hellbride. 
"Please... please stay," you whisper desperately. You weakly grab his thick arm, giving him the most pleading, demure look you can manage in this worn-out state. 
He gives you a warm glance in reply, gently shaking you off. "I'm sorry, little lamb, I can't stay. We should do this again sometime."
You close your eyes when he leans in to kiss your forehead, relishing the warmth of his lips on your heated skin. When you open your eyes again the demon has vanished, despite the warm feeling of his lips still lingering on your brow. 
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hella1975 · 1 year
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hella can u give me a visual description of some of ur ocs for toab i need to draw them
anon is facing the classic dilemma of taob readers since the dawn of time (august 2020) and for once im gonna actually do something about it so i present unto you, artists of tumblr dot com, an exhaustive rundown of taob oc descriptions:
kanut: i feel like kanut is one whose appearance is pretty solidified now. he has white hair that falls down to the base of his back that he typically pulls back into a half-knot, with a short white beard. go grandpa go. he's described as generally having a 'rough' 'sea-faring' apperance bc he's one of those people that really doesnt give a fuck about appearance especially when it has nothing to do with his healing, so while he wears the typical water tribe clothing, he'll usually have his sleeves rolled up or stains on his tunic etc. he has blue eyes and isn't very muscled because he stays out of all combat due to being the healer, but he's one of the taller tribesmen. he has those scars on his hands that cover his palms and knuckles and quite sharp features.
chena: COLOSSAL freak of a man. like i wanted him to be comically large seeing as i was working with a kids show universe where shit like that happens, so zuko literally just stands past this man's ELBOW. fucking giganotosaurus rex. he's incredibly broad and muscled as well as just tall, very thick-necked and beefy face. like it's v important to me that chena's muscle isn't the streamlined, airbrushed kind; he's a total beefcake. he's COVERED in scars like he has a specific slit in his eyebrow that needs to be mentioned bc ZUKO GAVE IT HIM but aside that honestly go ham with the scars. his eyes are grey but more of a blueish grey, and he has dark brown hair that he does quite detailed braids in to pull back out of his face and fall down his back.
tomkin: he's v skinny/lanky and trying very hard to look bigger than he is. he wears his dark brown hair in a warrior's wolf tail and effectively looks like an older, less-burdened-by-The-Horrors version of sokka. he does tend to style the braid part of his wolftail to come out of his hair a little though instead of lying flat bc he thinks it makes him look taller (it doesn't). his eyes are a very light blue.
nanook: he has shoulder-length hair that's a light brown colour but ive realised some people mean 'nearly blonde' when they say light brown whereas i just meant 'not nearly black' like a lot of the other warriors. he wears a bead on one of the front strands and it usually falls so that it's sitting by his jaw. nanook is the tallest of the tom nook & ko trio and he's pretty toned but more in a 'has actually grown into himself' kind of way than a 'seasoned warrior' kind of way. he has a round face and generally looks very steady and calm. he has a birthmark on his hand (between his thumb and forefinger) that looks like a wave and he wears ivory bracelets on each wrist.
aput: IDC WHAT YOU DO WITH APUT BUT KNOW HE'S HOT. HE IS THE FIT ONE OF THE SWT. HE'S THEIR CASANOVA. MAKE HIM ATTRACTIVE OR DIE BY MY BLADE. he has black hair that falls to around shoulder length and he doesnt usually style it in any way, and he's the second burliest in the group. he's got a much more lean muscle than chena and it makes him quicker, so fighting-wise those two are almost evenly matched (chena just wins out though. pure aggression will get you everywhere). aput has a sharp jaw and deep blue eyes
tulok: he's the smallest of the adults and has brown hair that falls to the middle of his back. he usually just braided it back or wore it in a style very similar to korra's with the blue ribbons, but since shuhon prison he's been wearing it in an earth kingdom braid. he's easily the most put together of the group bc he has a real thing for keeping clean and tidy, so his clothes are always pristine and his personal grooming is always up to date.
tovah: she's incredibly tall and lithe with sleek, black hair that falls to her hips that she wears in a PERFECT ponytail like not a HAIR out of place. she's all sharp angles and narrowed green eyes and she tends to wear earth kingdom uniform. her skin is tanned and she doesn't visibly carry any weapons on her unless she's undercover in the army and they're military-issued.
some references from beautiful fanart i have the absolute pleasure of being gifted! i wish i could put every bit of art ever made for my ocs here but im going mainly off whose showed up first when going through the tag and also any that i think just Really Captured how i personally see the character in my mind:
this portrait of kanut by @pyro-bee
atla-style tovah by @lordrei
tom nook (+ zuko) by @gloomybirdie
tovah elle woods supremacy by @herebutnotpresent
another pyro-bee kanut by @pyro-bee
tovah character sheet by @herebutnotpresent (this one is SUPER helpful)
and tons more under the 'taob art' tag if it helps!
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Pre-war au in which Steve and Bucky are the same height as canon but Steve weighs as much as Bucky did and vice verse?
Thicc, sturdy boy Steve with a good constitution, he’s got some muscle under all that doughy fat, and has a near-endless appetite — Sarah couldn’t afford much, but she could afford to put food on the table so that was always how she spoiled him, the only real way she could. So now he’s all good 5’4, but he’s pure beef — the good kind, prime, lean with good fat.
Bucky’s a good half-foot taller, but half his weight, and with none of the muscle mass. He’s got a list of allergies and intolerances a mile long, and a list chronic illnesses longer than that. He’s canon Pre-Serum Steve, but taller and with dark hair. And with some kind of health insurance too.
I headcanon often that Bucky’s parents were business owners, so maybe Steve gets a job there? Its a bakery and Steve helps out in the back, doing the heavy lifting — carrying huge sacks almost as big as he is over his shoulder. It always does things to Bucky, sat studying for college while watching this little butterball throw a fifty kilo bag like it’s nothing.
Ooooh, this is an interesting idea! I like it! 
Putting most of this under the cut because there are specific weight discussions (re: weight discussions with numbers) that can be a trigger if you’ve experienced disordered eating or eating disorders (as I have). Just FYI. 
I love this idea! The trading weight is so fun!
Although, I know right off the bat that there’s no way, looking at the movies at least, that Bucky would ever be as light as Steve was pre-serum. It’d be pretty impossible/near-deadly for Bucky (since he’s played by Seb, who’s 6’0” not 5’7” to 5’9” as Bucky is in the comics). And I don’t wanna go there exactly, so… Bucky will be very light but not that light. I’m gonna go for the skinny Steve look but not literally is weight, y’know? 
Anyway, information dump lol~
In the movies, Steve was 5’4” before the serum and weighed roughly 95lbs whereas Bucky was 6’0”, and the “average” weight for someone that size (who’s male) ranges between 160-196lbs. However,  this was during the Great Depression so it most likely would’ve been either the low end of that range of a “healthy” weight or below the range itself, since food was rationed and expensive. However. We like ‘em thick here, so just because, we’ll say that Bucky in the films, pre-war, weighs 180lbs. Meaning… using as BMI visualizer, they look like this:
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(Steve left; Bucky right)
But if they swapped...
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(Again, Steve left; Bucky right*)
They’d then look like this! Look at that, that fat little Steve 🤤🤤
*note: according to the BMI visualizer I was using, to get Bucky to look like Steve from before they swapped weight, he’d be 115lbs which is still very scary to me, someone that tall being that thin but… this is fiction. This is fiction. Poor baby’s never actually gonna be that light.
Looking at them is really interesting and woof, yeah, imagining Steve walking around, beefy and strong and sturdy™️ is really fucking good. Like...
His thighs rub together. He flexes and his arms are HUGE with both fat and muscle. His belly jiggles except for when he’s put in a good day's work and returns home only to scarf down as much food as he can, packing himself tight. Filling up that tank of a belly on baked sweets. Mmm. 
And poor Bucky! Baby has a lot of issues, just like canon pre-serum Steve, but also he’s got a fainting issue. So sometimes when he feels extra faint upon waking up, he just stays in bed. And if Steve isn’t out working (or if he can get away from work), he’ll stay with Bucky, getting up to fetch Bucky (but mostly himself since Bucky’s appetite is tiny) snacks or something to drink. However, when he’s in Bucky’s bed, he lets Bucky lay his head on his lap- his thighs making a nice pillow. Or he lets Bucky put his head on his fat, pillowy tummy when he begs with those big puppy-dog eyes and that soft mouth that wouldn’t even melt butter. Bucky likes the contrast between them. Skin and bones versus soft, plush fat. Well. Soft when Steve isn’t full. But it’s not that Bucky doesn’t like when Steve is stuffed, he also likes resting his head on Steve when he’s full. He might even like it more when he’s full because when he’s full his tummy gurgles and makes sounds as it tries to plow through everything Steve’s shoved into it, trying to turn all that good food into even more fat and beefy muscle. Those gurgles often put Bucky to sleep. And that fat and beef keeps him warm when he can’t do it himself. 🤤😍
And, YES, "It's a bakery and Steve helps out in the back, doing the heavy lifting - carrying huge aacks almost as big as he is over his shoulder. It always does things to Bucky, sat studying for college while watching this little butterball throw a fifty kilo bag like it's nothing."
SAME BUCKY. IT DOES THINGS TO ME. (Btw for other dumb Americans like me, 50 kilos is about 110 lbs)
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Thank you for this little AU, I love it!!
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iwadori · 3 years
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So I'm reading your works and I love them !! I was thinking of requesting some kind of drabble or whatever you like, about a female reader who has thick thighs and is somewhat plump and is in love with Tsukishima but he makes a comment about the food and she feels bad and when she meets Bokuto in the boot camp Bokuto is too cute and attentive to her asking for her number and a date. If you don't feel comfortable with this, just ignore it and good luck with your blog. Sorry my english is bad<3
When they make you insecure PT 5 (tsukishima,bokuto)
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Part One Part Two  Part Three Part Four  Part Five Part 6
Word Count: 2.6K
Genre: Angst to Fluff
masterlist
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Tsukishima
You and Tsukishima have been dating in your first year (as you both went to the same middle school together.)
You were in love with Tsukishima, you always have been to be honest, but once you became officially boyfriend and girlfriend your feelings amplified.
But recently, Tsukishima hasn’t been so nice.  
“Y/N we’re going on another training camp at Nekoma” Hinata exclaimed running up to you, as you leaning against Tsukishima “and you get to come too this time!”
You recently became the new trainee manager as the third-year manager, Kikyoko, is going to graduate. Tsukishima acted as if you being around all the time in practice was the worst thing in the world, but Yamagucchi always assured you that ‘Tsukki’ was just joking.
“Oh well that’s fun...” you say entertaining Hinata’s excitement. You were kind of excited to go to the training camp too, as it was in Tokyo after all. You were always a big fan of volleyball as your dad used to play for the national team and you were planning to play on the girls team this year but you felt that you didn’t have the body for it (which was obviously not true.)
Hinata kept on rambling on before Tsukishima insulted him. “Gosh Kei, you don’t have to be so rude.” you complained, he slightly nudged you off of him and put on his headphones showing you that he was not in a good mood.
You let the rest of the practice continue, making notes of things and basically being Kiyoko’s shadow. As it ended, you waited outside for Tsukishima to walk home with you, but one of the guys told you he left 5 minutes ago. You knew there was no point of chasing after him so you just walked on your own, making you sigh in defeat.
Tsukishima was what you would describe as hot and cold. Some days he was fine a ‘perfect gentlemen’ but other days, days like this Tsukishima was just Tsukishima.  
When you got home, you decided to watch matches of all the other schools just to get some insight. You were watching a Fukarodani V Nekoma match from a few years ago and something caught your eye, well someone did to be more specific. A beefy, bicolour haired boy who was hooting like an owl was mesmerizing to watch.
You saw that his name was Bokuto Koutarou which triggered your next actions, which were to internet stalk him. You learned that he was the captain of the team and the team’s ace and the 5th ace in the country which piqued your interest in the boy even more.
‘This is going to be an exciting training camp’ you think to yourself before going to sleep.
`Kiyoko gave you an itinerary of all the things you should bring, since you weren’t going to be joining in any of the matches you were reminded to bring things that would keep entertained.  
You get to the bus at the crack of dawn, ready to be driven to Tokyo. Hinata and Kageyama were already arguing (let’s pretend that they didn’t have to do the retakes in the test) Tanaka and Nishinoya were being loud, and the rest of the members were already asleep. You wanted to sit next to Tsukishima but when you were about to sit down, he put his carryon bag in the seat next to him.
The bus ride was around 4-5 hours, and you spent your time reading and sleeping. Daichi got the loudmouths to calm down making the bus ride more tolerable. You suffered from slight motion sickness but you powered through.
When you arrived there, you saw all the other teams and their buses too. You felt a bit overwhelmed, seeing these tall boys just crowd around an entrance way. But too your surprise, noticing your slight anxiousness, Tsukishima grabbed your hand in a hand-hold.  
The Nekoma coach, explained how the day would pan out and where each team would be residing for the week. There was a lot of commotion getting everyone settled, Hinata and Nishinoya were basically bouncing off of the wall commenting on all the people and the place and how they’re going to ‘crush the competition.’  
You could tell that when the other teams were looking at Karasuno they were all staring at Kiyoko. Inquisitive about how there wasn’t only one girl manager but there was two. As you were walking your eyes locked with Bokuto Koutarou’s making yours widen, you blush and turn your head quickly.  
What you didn’t know was, after your small interaction, Bokuto elbowed Akaashi and said “Akaaashi AKKAAASHI, did ya see that? did ya?” he was flying with happiness “That girl from Karasuno smiled at me. She’s really pretty.”
“I think she’s from Karasuno” Akaashi said “So maybe you’ll see her around”
Bokuto stared off in the direction you were walking in “Yeah, hopefully.”
The first day, everyone got settled in and then the teams went straight into games. There were two different gyms and today, in gym 1, you were watching Karasuno V Nekoma. (By the way I literally don’t remember the teams at the training camp besides Nekoma, Karasuno and Fukarodani.) The game was very back a point each team making point after point, you already knew of Nekoma’s captain, Kuroo Testurou and the setter Kenma, you’ve actually played games with Kenma online before so you were fairly acquainted with him already.
The games ended and it was now dinner time, the canteen was packed with all the boys rushing to line up for the food. You waited at the back of the line, not really caring about when you got your food. Suddenly, you felt a tap on your shoulder and you looked over to see Boktuo,  
“Hi.” he said “I’m Bok-”
“Bokuto Koutarou!” You finished “I'm a big fan..” you cringed immediately at your excitement ‘pull it together Y/N’ you scold yourself.
“Oh well hi, I’m glad you know who I am” he said “and may I ask for your name?”  
“Oh I’m Y/N L/N” you say with a slight blush “I'm the trainee manager from Karasuno.”  
“Cool! Well I hope to see you aro-” he starts  
“Y/N, I’ve been looking all over for you, I already got your food for you.” Tsukishima said pulling at your arm a bit harshly, dragging you over to a table with the Karasuno team.
“Gosh Tsukki, no need to be so harsh” you say rubbing at your wrist, he didn’t apologize and just started eating his food.  
You look down at your plate and see the small portion that Tsukki got for you. The Karasuno bunch was being loud, as they usually are, so when you whisper “Tsukki what the fuck is this” whilst nudging him in the side, he didn’t hear you (or atleast he pretended he didn’t.) You tried again but a little louder saying, “Tsukishima what the fuck is this.” you realised you said it a bit too loud as the whole Karasuno table stopped their conversations to look over at the slight commontion you caused.
“What do you mean Y/N?” he said with a slight smirk on his face.
“I mean what’s with the portion size of a bird that you gave me?” you ask getting upset “Do you really think im that big?”
“Well, you could start eating less that’s for sure.” he said earning gasps from you and some of the people sitting at the table “Y/N let's face it, you eat like a pig and you look like an elephant, me making your food portion smaller is the least I could do.”  
By now you had tears in your eyes, Tsukishima was a dick. You knew this, everybody knew this to be honest, yet you still loved him. He wasn’t like this in middle school, yes he was a bit snarky and rude (but wasn’t every middle schooler?) High school Tsukishima was like a completely different person. As much as you wanted to run away and hide, you knew you couldn’t.  
So you stood up and said “Tsukishima, I’ve spent 3 years loving and pining after you, because I thought you were this great guy, but turns out you’re a huge asshole” you start making some of the people listening in smile in laughter “Tsukishima, I’ve hated this past year dating you, you’ve been such a huge dick and I’m finally stopping you. I can’t do this anymore. I won’t.” You start making your way to exit before finally saying “Oh and by the way I’m not the pig here, you are... oh and I’m breaking up with you.” You left, hearing a few laughs and some claps behind you.
You felt relieved, like the massive cloud that’s been over your head is finally gone. You went to the gym since you knew it was empty and picked up a ball to just throw it around a bit. After a while of ‘de-stressing,’ you hear someone else enter the gym.
“Oh I didn’t know you’d be here.” said Bokuto  
“Well here I am,” you say awkwardly “I can leave if you want me too, I know this is for actual volleyball players.”
“No no it’s fine you can definitely stay, in fact do you mind setting for me?” he asks  
“Sure, of course I don’t mind” you reply, excited you get to play with someone.  You haven’t played in ages, you always begged Tsukishima to just throw a ball around with you but he never did.  
You set to Boktuo a lot, with him always asking for ‘another one’ everytime he spiked the ball. Eventually, you were tired of setting and wanted to spike. You originally was a spiker to begin with taking after your dad. Thats why you took a liking to Bokuto in the first place cause he reminded you of the joys you had when watching your father play.
Bokuto set a ball to you and you spiked it with great strength and accuracy smiling at the burning feeling you felt in your palm.  
“Woahh” Bokuto shouted going towards you in amazement “Where did you learn how to spike like that?”
“From my dad, I don’t know if you heard of him before but my dad’s name is D/N L/N...?” you say
“D/N L/N, Y/N he is my idol!” he shouted again “I want to be just like him.”
“I think you can, I see a lot of similarites in the way you both play.” you say
“Really! And you’ve seen me play before..?” he asks
“Yeah, I watched some of your games before coming here... you’re really good” you shyly admit.
“Wow.”
You and Bokuto spend the rest of your time, talking about volleyball you’re interests, things you have in common, your likes and dislikes. Talking to Bokuto was refreshing, he didn’t randomly insult you or make snide comments about your weight or your looks. He just genuinely looked happy to be there talking to you, unlike Tsukishima.  
Seeing your change in mood, Bokuto stops talking and asks “are you alright? I forgot to ask earlier, but I saw what happened in the canteen and I hope you’re okay.”  
“Yeah I’m fine, it’s just things with me and Tsukishima reached a breaking point, I guess...” you say sniffling a bit talking about it “But it’s fine now I’ve broken up with him and I feel better already.”
“So you’re saying your single...?” he asked blushing a bit
“Yeah I guess I am...” you smile blushing also.  
“Okay great...well I hope this isn’t too forward after everything happened with Tsukki and all but...” he starts “but would you like to go on a date with me?”
“Who me?” you ask as if you weren’t the only other person in the room
“No the volleyball” he responds sarcastically “Of course you Y/N.”  
“Are you sure, cause to be honest Bokuto you’re a really good-looking guy” you say making him smile widely “so I think you need someone to match your level in attractiveness” you look down and his smile drops.
“What do you mean?” he asks before realising all the stuff Tsukishima said about you “Y/N you’re beautiful, your face, your body just you.” you blush at his words “when I first saw you when you were walking past us in the entrance way the first thing I thought and said about you was “Akaashi who is that girl she’s beautiful.””  
“Really?” you ask with disbelief
“Mhm” he nods excitedly “So will you go on a date with me?”  
“I guess so...” you say a bit unsure
“HEY HEY HEY!” he exclaims “I gotta go tell akaashi!” he runs out of the gym in a hurry making you laugh, but he comes back to give you a quick unexpected kiss on the cheek making you smile.
You checked your phone for the time realising that you’ve been with Bokuto for 3 hours and you knew that everyone would be going to sleep now. As you are the manager you slept seperately from the rest of the team but before you went to your sleeping quaters you went to Karasunos.  
“Y/N where have you been? We’ve been worried about you.” asked yammagucchi  
“It’s fine yams don’t worry about it, guys” you say catching everyones attention “I just wanted to apologise to you for my outburst at dinner, it wasn’t my intention to cause a scence.”
“It’s fine Y/N” said sugawara “He definitely deserved it.”
“Yeah as your marvellous senpai we gave him a good telling off” said Tanaka and Nishinoya  making you chuckle.  
“Okay well thanks guys, I’m going to sleep goodnight.”
“Wait Y/N can I speak with you.” asked Tsukishima gesturing to outside the room
“Umm sure” you respond following him into the corridor.
“I just want to say I’m sorry for the things I’ve said and done over the past year and how I’ve been a terrible boyfriend, you don’t deserve that. So, I’m sorry.”  
“I can’t say I can forgive you yet.” you say making Tsukishima look sad “but maybe with effort from you we can become friends possibly?”  
“Just friends?” he said with hope in voice thinking that you could be something more.
“Just friends.” you repeated and confirmed “Besides I have been asked on a date”  
“With who?”  
“None of your business stingyshima” you mock the nickname that Hinata calls him making him scowl and you smile “Goodnight.”
After Bokuto’s confession and Tsukishima’s apology, the rest of the training camp went off without a hitch. In your breaks and lunchtimes, you got to know more about Bokuto and with Kuroo’s help you even got to sneak out to actually go on your date. You sometimes even went to practice with them getting to show off your skills, with Bokuto cheering you on and complimenting you every single time.  
Tsukishima kept his distance for the most part, and kept the snarky comments about you and Bokuto to himself (even though he was dying to say them.) You eventually fully forgave Tsukishima in your 3rd year but you definitely weren’t as close as you used to be. Tsukishima’s comments and actions did affect you for a while however with the help of your loving boyfriend, you were reminded how beautiful you are no matter what weight, shape or height you were.
You and Bokuto stayed together, you made sure to come to every one of his games and when you introduced him to your dad he fainted on sight. Your dad and Bokuto got along, and became very close friends, Bokuto always came to him for advice (especially volleyball advice.) You loved Bokuto and he definitely loved you too.
AN: I hope you liked it, since I didn’t want to make it too similar too the Atsumu insecure one. And I feel like it dragged out a bit but got rushed in the endd....but oh well...
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Meet cute with Vampire! Ari and Siren! Reader, but Ari wants to find somebody to drink from and reader wants to bewitch someone just for the heck of it. They dont know about the identity of the other, and Vampires cant drink siren blood even though it appeals them and a siren's song doesn't affect a vampire and they're they both are just like... Why tf is this not working?
I'm so sorry this is so late! Work got in the way a bit. Anyway, thank you for the request my darling and I thoroughly enjoyed this. This was so delicious! My muse my salivating the entire time. I hope you like it. 🥰
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This is still part of my 1.5K Followers Celebration. Requests are closed and I'm just finishing up those in my inbox. It's slow going, but we'll get there.
All of the posted Drabbles will be listed under my One Shot Masterlist. -------------------
Pairing: Vampire!Ari Levinson x Siren!Reader
Warnings: 18+ ONLY. smexy flirting, mentions of stalking/hunting/eating people as prey, vampire and siren behaviors, alcohol consumption
Word Count: 1.1K (drabble)
I do not consent to having any of my fics copied, stolen, reposted, or translated. Tumblr is the only site I post. If you find any of my work anywhere else, please report it.
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It was arguably the sexiest time of the year. The time of the year when inhibitions were lowered as they hid their everyday selves behind masks, costumes, and copious amounts of alcohol. Clubs and bars were packed with party goers who had the express intent to get wasted, get laid, or both. It was the time of the year when everyone embraced their inner monster.
And the real monsters were free to have their own fun.
Ari sipped on his scotch as he leaned against the bar, taking in the packed lounge and carefully scanning for a potential target. His lips twitched into a smile at the sea of scantily clad men and women; bunnies, superheroes, witches. The creative attempts at vampires always did amuse him.
There were plenty of choices. The moment he stepped through the doors, eyes were immediately on this tall beefy man hoping to catch his attention. This year he decided to dress as a pirate, his long hair and thick beard lending well to the look. He was about to settle for the kitten eyeing him salaciously from across the bar when the music blasting from the speakers faded and the soft playing of piano keys took over.
Ari's attention diverted toward the small stage that housed a baby grand piano and a microphone. The moment you stepped onto the stage, he forgot everything and everyone. Only you were in sharp focus now in his vision as you smiled at the pianist before taking your spot behind the mic. The rest was an insignificant blur.
You were absolutely delectable.
You stood out in a room full of costumes that were basically just lingerie with a Renaissance inspired gown that was just as inviting as any playboy bunny getup. It hugged your figure, Ari's favorite part of it being how the sleeves were long but draped well below your shoulders and the neckline barely teased the upper swell of your breasts. His fangs came out unprompted, but who could blame him when you were practically offering yourself to him with how exposed your pulse points were.
Across the room, you were having the exact same thoughts about the pirate. You felt an urge to want to run your hands along the chest hair peeking from the wide opening of his shirt. You noticed from his tight pants how thick he is and you couldn't wait to take him for a ride. You kept your eyes locked through your whole set, never once breaking eye contact even as you changed songs.
A siren's song is potent.
You wanted him and you were going to use every drop of your power to make sure you we're bringing him home tonight. Your power bled into your melody and you were probably going to overwhelm the poor man, but you hardly cared. There was a thirst inside you that only he could quench. You weren't at all surprised when after your set, you felt a strong muscled arm pull you by your corseted waist.
You gasped before your lips curled into a flirtatious smile as your gaze met blue eyes swimming with unmistakable desire. You pressed your body closer, shamelessly molding your curves against him as his hand dipped lower to the curve of your bum. You placed your hands on the wide chest you had been salivating over as he cornered you against a dark corner.
"Come home with me," he commanded, his lips ghosting against yours.
Ari could hardly contain himself, sending his compulsion strongly through his voice. His skin was dancing with electricity and his mouth was watering at how intoxicating you smelled. If he didn't get you out of here now then he was probably going to rip your throat out right here. Your giggle caused him to momentarily falter, confused at your unusual reaction to his power.
"At least buy me a drink first, sailor," you winked up at him.
He was taken aback by your response, surprised that you were fighting through his compulsion. He’s never had anyone not completely succumb to his command immediately, but you were obviously attracted to him. The same confusion flashed through your mind when he didn’t promptly do as told and frustration started to bubble in you both.
“There’s something else I’m craving tonight,” he growled as he pressed you harder against the wall, hitching your leg up on his hip and heightening his compulsion. “Let me taste you, sweetheart.”
You moaned as you felt his hard cock rub against you, pushing your own hips forward to feel him more. God, he was big. You wanted him more than ever. Your hand shot out to bury in his long hair and pull his face close to yours, close enough to see the green flecks in his eyes and feel his hot breath tickle your cheeks.
“Then have a taste.”
Desperate lust filled you both as his head dipped down to nuzzle his nose along your shoulder and the column of your neck. You gasped as the shiver ran down your spine, his warm mouth and tongue leaving a blazing trail across your skin. Your nails grew to claws behind him and you ran them across his back as you hid your face on his shoulder, your full mouth of jagged teeth excitedly preparing to tear through him. He groaned as he gripped at your curves to pull you closer still, his fangs snapping out as the impulse to take you completely consumed him.
The tip of his sharp teeth had barely pierced your skin and yours had barely grazed his flesh when the intense repulsion sobered you up like a harsh icy bath. You ripped away from each other abruptly, jumping a few feet as you glared daggers at each other.
“Siren?”
“Vampire?”
You both nodded slowly, still weary of each other though your species weren’t necessarily enemies. The shock and anger died down as the realization made you both sigh. It explained why his compulsion and your song had no effect. A vampire could not drink siren blood and a siren could not feast on undead flesh.
“Well that certainly… complicates things,” Ari shrugged, running a hand through his hair and exhaling heavily in frustration.
You were just about to call the night a dud when an idea crossed your mind. The sultry sinister grin crept up on your face as you moved back into his arms, that attraction still apparent and practically tangible between you. He raised an eyebrow at you, confused even as his hands grabbed at your hips to pull you close.
“Or maybe it could make things more interesting?” you giggled. “How about it, sailor? Wanna team up?”
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avintagekiss24 · 3 years
Text
𝖈𝖔𝖓𝖙𝖔𝖚𝖗 | 𝖇. 𝖇𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖊𝖘
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→ pairing: beefy shadow monster!bucky barnes x black!reader
→ word count: 5367
→ warnings: 18+ ONLY, dub con, a tinge of somnophilia, exophilia, #monster fucker, smut, sex, rough sex, masturbation, rough masturbation, sex toys, butt stuff, oral sex (female receiving), multiple orgasms, voyeurism, explicit language
→ square filled: @badthingshappenbingo​ 
wiping the other’s tears away
→ author note: guys, i’m... this is who we are now. we are monster fuckers. this is based on @idga-buck​ INCREDIBLE ask that was bred from this post. i honestly don’t know if this holds a candle to that ask because, whew girl. that shit fucked me up when i first read it! anyway, hope you guys enjoy because i might be planning a little monster fucker series based off of this and another certain someone that is mentioned in the fic.
→ read hirsute
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The stress in your shoulders makes it hard to lift your arm once you finally reach your apartment door. It takes everything in you to shove your key into the lock and slam your hip against the old, swollen wooden door to pop it open, but just crossing the threshold into your sanctuary helps soothe your nerves. Everything falls to the floor within an instant— purse, messenger bag, coat— hell, even your keys. Hopping on one foot to remove a light brown, velvet heel, and then the other as you make your way towards your bedroom, ignoring the lively green house plants scattered around window seals and the living room.
You don’t even bother to turn on the lights. Don’t make a pit stop in the kitchen, or even the bathroom to remove your makeup. Hunger pains be damned. There are exactly two things that will help with this mood— an orgasm, and sleep. Thank God one always leads to the other.
It was 10:12am, just two hours into your work day, when you knew what you were going to need to help forget about this day. Emails piling up, phone ringing off the hook, picking up the slack for coworkers because you’re just so well versed in this… we could really use your help. Took its toll. By 10:12am you were ready to scream, punch your perky, always in a good mood cubicle mate, and rip your hair out— so you knew, right then and there, that you were gonna fuck yourself stupid when you got home.
Perverted thoughts lingered all day as you rifled through old court filings and scoured obscure statutes. Thighs tightened as your sex started to dampen at fantasies of being bent over your boss’ desk. Caught yourself staring, more than once, through his open door as he chatted on the phone, bright blue eyes glinting underneath the natural sunlight that poured into his office, crinkling on the sides as he laughed.
Then he would furrow those brows as he read through briefings. Jaw and lips set tight, eyes squinted as he nibbled absentmindedly on his bottom lip. Big hands and thick fingers made the pen in his hand seem entirely too small. Pink tongue darted out to wet pink lips.
You’ve spent many a night with thoughts of Andrew Stephen Barber; and tonight will be no different.
Dark shadows are cast across the floor and bed, small slivers of moonlight creeping in. The sound of your shoes hitting the floor don’t even register in your ears as you wiggle out of your skirt and panties and fall onto the soft, warm, inviting Queen mattress.
Deft fingers make light work of the buttons on your silk blouse but the other hand can’t wait— slipping down your stomach and between sticky, hot flesh. A sharp inhale fills your chest as you rub slow circles against your clit, pangs of quick excitement starting to fire off. Your fingers push down to your slit, prodding and stroking gently as a new wet starts to slick your muscles.
A lazy smile curls onto your face. The stress of the day starts to evaporate as you melt into the mattress, the circles against your clit quickening, hips starting to roll and push up into your hand. The expensive silk of your blouse falls off your shoulders just a bit as you push it away from your chest, exposing two bare tits and quickly thickening nipples.
You take hold of one— tweaking it slow. Pinching and rolling the nub before palming your tit all together, cupping and pushing the mound of flesh up your chest. A swipe of your tongue— rough and torrid— against your nipple makes you grunt deep. Makes your hips jut upward as you prod that now filthy wet slit and hole.
Muscles flex as the sound of your dirty deed fills the empty space. Wet squeaks and sloshes bounce off the walls as fingers thrash back and forth and up and down against your clit. Heavy, thick thuds of your palm pounding against your body when one, two, three fingers finally slip inside— but they aren’t enough. Not wide enough or long enough to feed the hunger.
Then… there’s a shift. The atmosphere in your apartment— your room specifically— just changes on a dime. The tiny hairs on your body start to stand on end, goosebumps raising on your skin. Your eyes slide open, blinking up at the ceiling as your pumping hand slows down to just a creep before stilling completely. An already racing heart starts to beat harder, lips part, eyes and limbs completely frozen in place as fear strikes you.
You’ve felt this before, at random times since you moved in. Sometimes in the shower or in the kitchen, when you’re getting ready for work, or catching up on a show— but mainly at times like this. When you’re stretched out on your bed, naked, fingers rooted deep in your cunt, when you feel like you’re being watched. Like there’s a thousand eyes on you all at once.
There’s even a chill that takes over the room, sometimes getting so cold that for a brief moment, you can see your breath. You’ve gone to management a few times, who of course did nothing— but a few of your neighbors put your mind at ease, it happens to them sometimes too. It struck you odd that it was mainly just your female neighbors who experienced the random chills, but you brushed it off. You live on the southside of the complex, the sun gets blocked by the surrounding buildings. You also live on the first floor— heat rises, cold sinks. It happens.
You swallow hard, shutting your eyes, trying to center yourself again. A small laugh escapes your lips seconds later— you’re ridiculous. Maybe it's time to lay off the horror movies for a while.
Shrugging out of your blouse the rest of the way, you roll onto your side and pull open the drawer of your nightstand. Out comes the cute little heart shaped butt plug, complete with a pretty pink crystal gem. A small bottle of water based lube is next, and then, the pièce de résistance. Your ten inch tall, two inch wide realistic dildo.
Your stomach tightens with anticipation as you fumble with the flip cap of the small purple bottle of lube. Just a dollop is enough to coat the steel plug, the excess on your fingers used to wet your warm, puckered hole. Melting back into the mattress, you roll your shoulders, let your eyes flutter closed, and grab your bottom lip between your teeth as you massage your rim with the rounded tip, gently pushing.
A soft moan vibrates in your throat as your body opens up. Your hole twitches, clenching tight around the toy as it disappears with a quick pop as soon as the widest part is shoved in, leaving nothing to be seen but the pink heart flush against your hot rim. You draw your legs up, calves pressed against the backs of your thighs, butterflying open as you drag the fake cock through your folds— against your clit— using your slick to lubricate the soft silicone.
Fingers find your nub soon after, slapping quick, before stroking the delicate flesh as you start to tease your slit. The cock head slips in easy, but you're so tight, so worked up and eager, muscles swollen, that it takes a little more effort to swallow the rest. Tiny little wet squeaks fall from your lips, body tenses and curls inward as you push, push, push— mouth falling open, face splintering with pleasure.
It takes not even ten seconds for your body to adjust, hips wiggling and shifting to get comfortable, before you're pulling the massive toy out and shoving it back in. You start to murmur, indiscernible, clipped words filtering through full lips— a hot tongue slipping out, sweeping over teeth as your hips start to get into it.
You’re soon too far gone to notice the black shadows moving around the room. Chalk up the feeling of the little hairs standing on end, the goosebumps popping up across your body to your arousal— and not the two piercing blue eyes that illuminate at the edge of your bed.
~~~
Bucky could reach out and touch you he’s so close now. He’s careful still— almost getting caught by you earlier, his anticipation for your almost nightly show getting the best of him. Making him sloppy.
He’s haunted these walls, these rooms, these buildings for decades, if not a century or more. Seen generation after generation moving in and out, kids growing up into adults, adults growing old, the old dying off— but you— fuck, you’ve got to be his goddamn favorite of them all.
Deep brown skin. Lithe and delicate. A soft little quiet thing, engrossed in her solitude and house plants, more than happy to shut the rest of the world out more often than not. You’re gentle. Your soul, your physicality, except in these moments. When you fuck yourself like this, and it doesn’t matter when— in the mornings when the sun is soft, in the late afternoons, your body covered in the oranges and pinks of the sky, late at night in the absolute darkness with nothing but the moon and the shadows— you’re anything but gentle.
Unrestrained and wild you are when in the throes of your arousal. Writhing and loud, a thin sheen of sweat on your brow. Eyes clamped closed so tight sometimes sweet little tears squeeze out and slip down your cheeks. Two perfect tits, mounds of soft flesh, jiggle and bounce with the aggressive thrashes of your fingers against a glistening, sensitive nub.
Nights like tonight are his favorite. When you’re acutely aware that he’s here, but too scared to really give it much thought. When the fear strikes you stiff. When you pull out that monstrous fake cock and spread yourself wide— stretch that pretty, pink, wet cunt. The squelch, the squish of the foreign object being jammed into hot, distended muscles.
Your smell. So sweet and pungent— distinctly you. It’s constantly on the tip of Bucky’s tongue, filling his nostrils, swirling in his head and chest— taunting him. Intoxicating him. Begging and beseeching him to just reach out and touch. Taste. Oh, to have your scent— your flavor— on his lips to savor. He wants to bury his face between those thighs, drown between them. Slither into you and curl up, take up residence.
Bucky’s gotten bold as of late— now, not even waiting until you’re fucked out and sex drunk, falling into a peaceful, post orgasm slumber to move around. No. Now he shifts while you’re still awake, still fucking— toy sowed deep, fingers slapping, hips snapping, back arching.
You’ve snapped your head towards him once or twice over time as you’ve caught his movement in the corner of your eye. Sat straight up, mouth hanging, eyes wide, chest heaving as you stared into the darkness— waiting. Scared shitless. You even tried to cover yourself, hands over your tits, legs closing into each other.
It made him laugh.
You’re already his. That body claimed— no need to cover it up now.
Even tonight, he’s even bolder still. Right at the edge of your bed, peering on. It’s a damn near perfect view when you get like this— sloppy. Legs splayed open, heels dug into the mattress, hips arched off the bed. Your slick glistens underneath the moonlight, splashed on your thighs, strings connected between two puffy, balmy lips. It’s nothing but an invitation— an invitation that he can’t ignore for much longer.
He pushes his knee into the mattress, and then the other, his substantial weight dipping it. Piercing blue eyes snap towards your face as he stalls, waiting for any indication that you feel him there— a smile curling onto his lips when it doesn’t come. So he pushes closer, settles right at your feet. Reaches out, hovers long, black fingers over your chest— so close that his pointed, sharp nails graze your skin.
Makes you gasp.
Bucky snaps his hand back, but you don’t stop. You shiver. Goosebumps ever present on every inch of your skin— but you don’t stop. In fact, you get faster, harder. Pounding that fake cock into your cunt, pushing your hips higher as you slap and knead at that sticky, swollen nub.
You like it.
You like his touch.
Pride swells in Bucky’s chest. Maybe you’re much more receptive than he originally thought. Maybe it’s the fear itself— knowing you’re being watched by something, not someone— is what turns you on. And it makes Bucky bolder still.
He looms over you, hand pressing into the mattress right by your head. Head tilting as he leans in, brushing the tip of his nose against your cheek. You jump again, mewl loud when his nails scrape against your skin, between your jiggling, bouncing tits. He wants to fuck you so bad. Stuff you full of his monster cock— he knows you can take it. Knows you can stretch wide for his veiny, dripping prick. Suck those pretty tits into his wet mouth, those hard, perky nipples between his sharp teeth. But he won’t, not now.
You’re so close.
And this is always the best part.
So he pushes away, away from the bed. Hovers up near the ceiling, eyes shifting from their brilliant blue to pitch black so he can enjoy your finale. Then he’ll wait a while, maybe a few nights— maybe a few hours, who knows—  to encourage an encore.
With a little help, of course.
~~~
You cry out, shrieking into the darkness as the coil planted deep threatens to snap. The chill in the room has your nipples hard, but the heat blooming across your skin has you damp and sticky. There’s gusts of something— splashing over your naked body— but the windows are closed. The air conditioning turned completely off.
It feels like breath. You’d swear it— and it’s so close. Like someone, or something, is right on top of you. Shudders wrack your body, adrenaline rushes as ice floods your veins. Alarm, panic, sheer horror gripping you.
But, you cum before you can rationalize it. Before you can pinpoint it.
It’s so sweet, the orgasm, so deep as the warmth of it spreads like wildfire. Toes curl hard, so hard they go numb as the waves crash, each one harder than the one before. Heart in your throat, the blood rush in your ears. Muscles spasming, clenching and clamping down around the silicone cock, clit jumping with each contraction of your cunt.
It lasts for awhile— your body knowing that this is what you needed. So you ride it out as long as you can, fingers still rubbing and thrashing against your clit until it’s too sensitive. You stuff the cock into you one last time and leave it there, fixed so deep as your body falls back against the mattress. Your asshole constricts around the plug, twitching and fluttering as the last jerks of your hips start to subside.
Chest heaves with deep, long, ragged breaths. Tits pushing up and down, jiggling, stomach flexing as you go limp. Limp and fucked out. Asshole and cunt used, hot— weeping lube and cum. You’re a mess. A beautiful, sated, sloppy mess.
A lazy smile on your face, eyes hooded, you stare up at the ceiling. Unaware that you’ve found two black eyes just perfectly— stare right into them as they peer back at you.
Sleep starts to pull, a mushy, hazy brain giving in all too easily, not giving you time to recognize that you’re being watched again. That there’s a presence looming just over you— all around you. Or maybe, it's a mechanism. Maybe you don’t want to recognize it. So you roll over onto your side, shimmy underneath the blankets to gather some warmth. Shut your eyes and give into the sleep— vow to stop watching those cheesy scary movies so late at night.
They’re making you paranoid.
-
The sting of cold on your extremities makes you stir. Letting out a yawn, you flex your toes, pulling the blankets up to your chin as a chill ripples through your bones. You roll onto your back, and push out a breath, not opening your eyes to see the white puff of air. Another shiver, a deep one, rolls through you again, making you shift underneath the blankets and push your face into the pillow.
Moments later is when you perceive a warmth. A soft moan trembles in your throat as you smash the back of your hand against your face, still teetering between sleep and consciousness. The ache between your legs grows harder to ignore— the warmth, starting to sear. Your hips buck soft. Another groan scratches at the back of your throat.
You’re writhing within minutes. A white hot molten pooling in the pit of your stomach and spreading out to the tips of your fingers and toes. The cold nothing but a distant memory as the familiar burn of lechery encompasses your tight body.
It feels so real— a long, forked, rough tongue lapping at your folds, swishing around your clit. You jump suddenly, gasping deep when something like teeth, so many sharp teeth, nibble and bite at the meat of your thighs. There's pressure, pressing down on your stomach and wrapped around your thigh as you draw your knees up slow, digging the balls of your feet into the mattress. The pressure, it’s warm and vast— something like a palm… there’s scratching, quick little tickles over your stomach, your tits, your ankles and calves.
Fingernails. Long, jagged fingernails.
You give in to the fantasy— the dream. Not opening your eyes, not giving into the consciousness that tugs at you, not wanting to lose this euphoria. The pressure on your stomach gets harder, heightening the sensation of the tongue against your core and almost pinning your writhing hips to the sturdy mattress.
The tongue, rough and wet, slithers through your folds, flicking quick against your clit before the mouth sucks you right up— lips, clit— right into it. Tongue flattening against your slit, teasing your pink opening. Then, oh God, and then it slithers inside, that tongue. Massages your hot, swollen muscles from the inside. Your body jolts up, away from the mattress, a breathy, drawn-out snarl bursting from your lips.
You fall back against the mattress— liquify into it really and let your hands roam, finding your taut, thick nipples. Tweaking and rolling them, pinching between deft fingers before palming your tits feeling the goosebumps that have popped up on your flesh again. Your knees fall apart, legs splaying open, putting your swollen cunt on full display for this invisible force.
It’s not long before your hips are jutting up into the dream tongue, the lips, the teeth hard and fast, a sharp sting piercing your clit just as you start to cum again. Loud, shaky moans fill the room as your hips pulse and your back arches. Cursing, whaling as the dream tongue swipes and flicks, lips wrap around your nub again, sucking hard, coaxing every last drop of your release out of you.
Thighs, stomach, arms, cunt burn as a delicious stretch, a used ache settles deep in the exploited muscles. Long, hoarse breaths fill your chest, the air rushing so fast, and yet so slow that it makes you dizzy. You couldn’t move if you wanted to, everything is just so fucking heavy.
Brain is mush again, cloudy and dense, stupid with ardor. Lazy, broken moans vibrate through your vocal chords, body twitches with quick aftershocks every now and again, making you giggle. You feel like you’ve been hit by a mack truck. It’s so nice.
Once your breathing has slowed back to normal, you roll your head towards the window, open your eyes just enough to see the moon cutting into the room. Relief floods through your veins, happy to find it’s still night time, still dark, your room still moody, giving you time to fall back asleep with the pleasant thoughts of whatever just happened— but you’re a mess again. Skin sticky and damp, panties ruined. Your eyes droop and close as you push out a soft breath, hand slipping down your body. You should really clean up.
Maybe in a few minutes. You push your knees together slowly, swaying them back and forth as your fingertips find your clit, toying with it gently. They calm your jumbled nerves quite nicely and immediately— the touch familiar. Your fingers stretch out, tips push down just a little lower as you smile stupid and lazy and blink slowly up at the ceiling.
The smile doesn’t last long.
Your eyes pop open as a simultaneous sharp gasp fills your chest with cold air. Blood runs ice cold through your veins.
“Good,” a scratchy voice sounds as your fingers push through a tuft of thick hair just between your legs, hot breath sticking to tacky flesh.
Shallow, quick breaths squeak through your teeth, eyes wide, lips and chin trembling as your limbs grow heavy— oh so heavy. Frozen. You slam your eyes shut when a hand slides slowly up your side, serrated nails skipping across your skin. A sob chokes out as you slam your eyes shut, fear gripping every inch of your body.
The wet, long, hot tongue of your dreams swipes at your core again but you’re still sensitive— jumpy— hips pushing down into the mattress to get away from it. A second hand grabs your hip, squeezes it hard, stilling your lower half as it laps at you again. The crawling hand finds your left tit, cups it— kneads it slow— rolling the thick bud between even thicker fingers.
“Look at me.” The voice sounds again, like gravel, low and rough.
Your clit is sucked into an instant warmth, a wide, flat tongue massaging— rolling— gently. A soft, tiny little noise thrums in your throat as a shudder ripples through already irritated muscles. The sound pleases whatever is between your legs, as it chuckles deep, the vibrations adding to the sensation of its tongue.
It pinches your nipple— quick, hard— and bites down into the meat of your thigh while also squeezing it with it’s other massive hand, “I want you to look at me.” you hesitate— and it doesn’t like it, “Look at me.”
The chill in its voice forces your eyes open, but you keep them on the ceiling as silent tears trickle down the side of your face and onto your pillow. An influx of air fills your lungs when a hand pushes up to your face. A thumb swipes underneath your eye gently before an index finger curls to wipe away the wet emotion.
“You’re pretty when you cry,” it says, a little softer, still rubbing your cheek slowly, “Look at me.”
Against your better judgement, fighting through the fear, you blink, shifting your eyes towards your drawn-up legs. There are two big eyes, unnaturally blue, probing and upturned, staring back at you, disappearing in the dark as it blinks before they settle back on you. In fact, they stay on you as it’s tongue flicks out at you again, sweeps through your folds, teasing your opening, your clit again. It palms your tit, squeezing before sitting up, exposing it’s true size.
Your eyes follow slowly upward as it towers over you, it’s knees pressing into the mattress, dipping it deep with its weight. You struggle to breathe, eyes flutter quick as your lips tremble, taking in the umbra. There’s a wide chest, thick biceps and forearms and hands and fingers that push your legs back— towards your chest and stomach. Stocky thighs and a—
You gulp slow, sitting up on your elbows as your eyes zero in on the throbbing, weeping cock between its legs. The moon illuminates the pulsing veins running the impressive length, the wet, red, dripping cockhead— cum already dribbling out, splashing on your skin. It’s hot and silky— dense, the cum, as it wipes the spot away with it’s thumb, a nail cutting into your skin.
It grabs itself, strokes it’s massive cock slow as it drags its eyes along your naked body. Another shudder trembles through you when it teases your cunt with it’s cockhead, pressing into your clit, dragging through your folds, prodding at your slit. You let your head drop slightly, let your eyes close to slits, let your mouth drop as it’s fingers skip up and down your thighs, it’s jagged, black nails tickling you.
Errant hips canter upward, pushing your clit against its tip again, coating it with your slick before you let it settle back against your opening.
“Now that you can see me, beautiful,” it’s raspy voice sounds, starting to push into you, “I want you to scream.”
It juts into you hard, pulling a loud scream out of you— just what it wanted. You pant as it pushes, deep, deep, deep, until its hips are flush with yours, cock completely sunk. It doesn’t move right away, lets you wiggle and twitch, hiss and grunt as you adjust to the size— the absolute fullness. Stretched so wide, clasped so tight around this pulsating cock that you aren’t sure that you’ll be able to walk tomorrow.
But you’ll risk it.
It locks one of your legs around it’s waist, throws the other over its shoulder, slipping its massive hand down the length, down your calf, over your knee, along your thigh until it’s fingers settle on your cunt— on your clit. Slow circles are drawn into your flesh, a gentle pressure applied as it pulls back, cock dragging out of your death grip. You hiss as it sinks back in, reaching something deep.
It’s blistering after that. Within seconds, hips are snapping, skin slapping against… skin? You aren’t even sure. Long fingers are everywhere, tits, stomach, legs, cunt— gripping, groping, pinching. They venture up to your chin, up to your parted, swollen lips, where they linger. You send wide, innocent eyes up to its blues, tits sliding up and down as you lunge with each thrust— and open your mouth wider, sliding your tongue along the tip of its finger.
When a husky moan rumbles through its chest, your heart soars unexpectedly. It’s pleased with your eagerness— your reception.
You’re empty suddenly. A strong hand grips your side, pulls you roughly down the bed. Flips you over before yanking your hips upward, propping you up on your knees. And then, you’re pinned— an unyielding grip around the back of your neck holding you in place. You grunt and start to whimper,  another bout of fright coursing through your veins as it smashes the side of your face into the sheets and pillows.
It fucks back into you slow, a long, shuddering groan spilling out of your trembling lips, “My pet,” it speaks again, squeezing the back of your neck a little harder, “Such a sweet little thing.”
Reaching back, your fingers graze over a sinewy thigh, taking hold as you start to spring forward with each drive of its hips. You slam your eyes closed, more emotion squeezing out of them. The dull burn is back in the pit of your stomach. Your toes and fingers start to curl and flex as each stroke gets sweeter and sweeter, hitting that deep little spot within.
Goosebumps pop up again. Heat blooms across your skin, filling your face and chest and stomach. Spit dribbles from the corner of your mouth as two pouty lips form a perfect little “o” as you start to shriek, each sound coming faster and faster, louder and louder. Your fingers find your nub again, rubbing and slapping to set this release in motion. The sound of your slick is sloppy, wet— and gorgeous, to both you and it.
You’re cursing, sobbing, begging within minutes, teetering right on the edge. It starts to thumb at your asshole, rubbing the rim gently, pushing just inside— coaxing you on.
That’s all it takes. You tense hard— toes curl, fists ball, stomach clenches— and then stiffen as your orgasm hits. A white hot flushing through as you quake, cunt spasming around it’s heavy cock. Jammed full, orgasm rippling, fingers still thrashing against your constricting clit, you’re dizzy, warm all over, sweaty and freezing cold all at the same time.
Your companion— this monster of the night, lurking in the shadows— hammers on behind you, pumping, gripping, squeezing, pushing you down further into the mattress as his strokes get sharper. Stronger. More forceful.
It gets loud. Growling so deep and heavy that the sound shakes the walls— the bed. God, the poor neighbors. It grips your hip with one hand so hard you yelp in pain, hands flailing, trying to grip and grab anything they can as it fucks into you.
One, two more jabs and it stills quick— and that’s when you feel it. Another white hot, this time all concentrated in your overstimulated, tight, wet cunt. Long ribbons of cum, silk soft and warm, fill you up, up, up— to the brim. It’s cock veins pulsate, it’s girth seemingly growing wider, stretching you more as it unloads. Cock jumping in your tight grasp as cum weeps from it.
You take it all, humming loud and proud, panting as you feel it’s seed spill out, down the inside of your thigh.
It drags out slow, as if not wanting to at all. Like it likes the feeling of your messy, cum filled cunt all wrapped around him. You feel that swollen cock head through your folds again, slowly pushing up and down your clit, teasing your slit. A finger, and then another glance over your asshole— lovingly. Softly. Massaging the twitching rim before burying it’s hard cock between your cheeks, slapping you with it.
“No more,” you plead, voice small and broken and pathetic, “Please, I can’t.”
Another chuckle rumbles through its chest, “Ok sweet girl,” there’s a hand on the back of your head, stroking curly, damp, surely tangled hair, “Such a good girl.”
Hands are back on your skin again, fingers pushing and pulling, adjusting you on the mattress. You’re flat now, splayed out on your belly, legs spread, hands shoved underneath your pillows and head. Balmy skin, puffy flesh is soothed by slow gushes of breath, making you jump and whine more— whimper more. The bed sinks again as it moves, pulled again, your back up against a massive chest and hard stomach.
It wraps around you, slinging an arm and a leg over you, enveloping you in its warmth. Rids your face of the wetness, pushing the remaining tears away with its thumb. Nuzzles in close— a scratchy cheek against your own.
A heavy hand over your heart.
“I like this,” it says soft, tapping along with your heartbeat, “The rhythm.”
You hum again, happily fucked out and cock drunk, already feeling an ache settling into your muscles and bones. Hips and ass push back into its hips, pushing its dense cock against you— wanting to feel it resting against your cunt, “You got a name?”
“Brarthronoz.”
“Excuse me?” you giggle through a deep yawn as your eyes flutter.
It— he nuzzles again, pushing his face closer, “Bucky is fine, pet.”
“Bucky,” you sigh a little, “I like that.”
You fall asleep with the soft rhythm of his breath against your neck.
-
When you wake, he’s gone— but you kinda figured that anyway. The oranges of the sky and rising sun chases away all the shadows. You go about your routine but a little slower— inflamed, throbbing arms and legs make showering and brushing your teeth a little harder this morning.
You look for him though, in the corner of your little kitchen, in that small spot where the sun just never quite reaches.
A smile tugs at the corners of your mouth when you find a pair of bright blue eyes fixed on you, a little wink encouraging you further.
“Toast?” You ask cheekily, a wide smile on your face as you offer him a plate.
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metalbuckaroo · 3 years
Note
hiii okay i saw the new prompt list and it looks fun :) could you do #45, #51 (like his office at the bar maybe), and #70/93 with beefy biker bucky? as always no pressure!
Break Time
Summary: A stressful shift at the bar leads to a break in Bucky's office
Warning: Smut, oral (f rec), cursing, little bit of a praise kink, maybe a little bit of praise kink?? 18+ ONLY
AU: Beefy Biker Bucky x Fem Reader
AN: Beefy Biker Bucky holds a special place in my heart.
Prompt from this list, asks are always open so feel free to send one or more in
Gif not mine
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It had been an extra stressful night at the bar, there were more rude drunks than usual, everything seemed to be breaking down or needing refilled.
So, when you were finally free to go on a break, you walked into the office where Bucky was going paperwork and slammed the door shut.
"Someone seems extra moody." He teased, looking up from the computer with an amusing smile. "Says the one who gets to stay locked in here." You quipped back.
Your eyes wondered over his tall, broad frame as he stood from the desk chair; more so on the way his grey sweatshirt was stretching to fit his thick arms.
He sauntered over to you, bending down enough to grab your waist and lift you onto the desk, his lips engulfing yours in a deep, slow kiss.
You hummed quietly when his tongue pressed into yours, your fingers tangling themselves in his soft hair.
"So tense, need to relax." He muttered against your lips, large hands gliding up your thighs and to the button of your jeans. "Bucky, the bar is still open."
He ignored your words as he kissed down your jaw, pulling your zipper down. "Love when you were these ones. Not as much as the dresses, but damn- these pants do something to me."
You bit back a moan when he jerked them down your legs before slotting himself back between your knees.
"Buck, the bar-" You were cut short when he pulled your ass to the edge of the desk, pressing a brisk kiss to your lips. "It's my bar, I'll do what I want. Lay back and let me take care of you."
Nodding, you leaned back on your elbows, Bucky dropping down to his knees and placing your thighs on his shoulders so he was level with your cunt.
A smile twitched on his lips when he saw you were wearing his favorite pair of underwear, tugging them down until they joined your pants on the floor.
A hasty kiss to your clit made you whine and buck your hips. "So pretty." He hummed before locking a stripe up your folds, one of your hands going to his hair.
"Bucky, please." You whimpered, his hands holding the outsides of your thighs to knead them gently as his tongue dwelled into you. "Fuck..." You breathed out.
The light tugs on his hair made him shiver, his nose bumping into your clit as his tongue slid against your warm walls.
The pitch of your moans and whines going higher told him you were getting close, your legs struggling to stay apart when he licked another line to your clit. He locked his lips around it and pressed to fingers through your folds, his steely blue eyes meeting yours.
A soft groan vibrated your core as he curled his fingers up, sending you flying over the edge as he watched your face scrunch up in pleasure, body tensing as you called out his name.
He lapped up your release, standing again so he could bend his body over yours; slipping his tongue through your parted lips with a moan.
You reached to tug at the hem of his shirt, pulling away from the kiss to look at his dilated pupils. "Want it off." You mumbled, starting to lift it before he gladly pulled it over his head and dropped it to the floor.
Taking in the sight of his sculpted torso, you tugged at his belt and he shooed your hands away, undoing it himself. "I got it, baby. Be patient." He said softly, dropping his jeans to his ankles.
You gasped when he tugged you further off of the edge of the desk, your ass hanging off and legs around his waist as he buried himself in you with a low groan.
Metal fingers trailed up your torso, massaging the supple skin of your breast as you moaned; the feeling of him slowly rocking his hips into yours making your head spin.
The slow drag of his hips made your body crave more as he bent his body back over yours to lock your lips in his. You bit his bottom lip lightly and he snapped his hips forward, your head tipping back to strain a moan.
He smashed his lips back to yours, hands holding you waist to keep you in place as he picked up the pace of his thrusts; swallowing every filthy sound you made that mixed with his.
"Fucking hell- Bucky-" You mewled, ears starting to ring as you tightened your legs around his waist.
A low moan pulled itself from Bucky's throat, your name falling from his lips as his release mixed with yours, eyebrows scrunched together.
He knocked a kiss to your chin and slipped out of you with a satisfied sigh. "You're the best, pretty girl."
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jobean12-blog · 3 years
Text
Lumberjack in Love
Pairing: Bucky x reader (Lumberjack AU)
Word Count: 1,580
Summary: You’re new to town and you meet your very first neighbor. 
Author’s Note: This is for the HBC’s @the-ss-horniest-book-club drunk drabbles and clean up the archive challenge. It took me a minute to grab his great prompt up buy my lovely friend @eurynome827 totally inspired me and boom here it is. Hope you enjoy. I really liked writing this! Thank you all so very much for reading! Much love always! ❤❤❤ My beautiful divider is by my love @imerdwarf
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Warnings: sweet and soft fluff, shy Bucky being a sweet hunk of beefy goodness :)
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As you sit on the small porch of your new house and look around you still can’t believe the beauty of the mountains. It’s early Spring so the mornings are still chilly, and you pull your blanket scarf tighter around your shoulders.
A distant bark catches your attention, and you squint through the trees to see a white fluff bounding right toward you. Your first instinct is to run into the house but then you hear the deep voice of the man running after the animal and you pause.
As they get closer you can clearly see it’s a large dog and instantly relax.
“Winter! Come back here right now!” the man yells just as the dog happily trots up your steps.
He nudges his nose under your hand for a pet and you can’t help but oblige.
“Winter!” the man growls and you instantly look up.
And you keep looking up for what feels like miles until you reach the crystal blue eyes of the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. His long chestnut hair is pulled back into a low bun, but a few pieces have come loose and now frame his perfectly shaped jaw.
Your eyes wander over his plump lips and dark beard before you take in the rest of him. The soft flannel he wears is pulled tight over his broad shoulders and chest with the sleeves rolled up and barely containing his biceps.
The leather belt at his waist is worn and soft but seems pointless when the dark jeans he’s wearing are practically painted onto his thick thighs.  Heavy boots cover his feet as they seem to continuously shuffle back and forth while you shamelessly check him out.
You stand and hold out your hand, introducing yourself. At first he just stares at you then down at your hand before wiping his own on his pants. His large hand closes around yours, the warmth and strength sending a new wave of appreciation through you.
“Hi, I’m Bucky,” he says quietly, holding onto your hand a bit longer than necessary before quicky letting go and shuffling on his feet again.
“It’s nice to meet you Bucky,” you reply, pointing at the dog. “And who is this?” you ask.
“Oh! Right. That’s Winter. Sorry about that. He took off after a squirrel and then he must have caught your scent. There aren’t too many people around here so…” he trails off, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.
“He’s beautiful,” you gush, scratching Winter behind the ears but never taking your eyes from Bucky.
His tongue darts out to lick his lips and his mouth opens but nothing comes out. After a few more seconds of silence, he seems to find his voice.
“Thanks! He’s a good boy, just adventurous. I hope he uh, didn’t disturb you or anyone else,” he mumbles, gesturing toward your house.
“Not at all,” you assure him. “It’s just me and I’m happy he came to say hello and brought you along too. You’re the first neighbor I’ve met.”
“I think I’m your only neighbor,” he laughs. “I’m just about a quarter of a mile that way and I think the next house might be two and half miles passed me.”
“Well, I’m glad it’s you. And Winter is just a bonus,” you flirt.
The pink that creeps up his cheeks only makes you like him more and can’t stop your giggle.
“I’m about to make some blueberry muffins. Could I bring you some when they’re done?” you ask. “I can’t eat them all myself.”
“Yeah! I love muffins! Thank you,” he replies with a lopsided grin.  
“Ok great! I’ll see you soon,” you cheer, giving him a beaming smile. “Just that way right?” you ask him, pointing at the path in the trees.
“Huh?” he answers, staring and blinking a few times. “Oh, yea. My house. It’s uh, yep just down that path, can’t miss it.”
He shoves his hands in his jean pockets and kicks at some imaginary dirt.
“Ok then, I’ll see you soon Bucky and Winter,” you say and start to walk up your steps.
He waits for you to get to the door and open it before waving and jogging off, Winter hot on his heels.
When the blueberry muffins are baked and still warm you pack them up with some butter and start the short walk to Bucky’s house. The path is lined with stones and the tall evergreen trees create a beautiful aromatic frame along the dirt. The sound of cracking wood reaches your ears the closer you get.
At the end of the path the land opens up to large piece of green grass with the perfect log cabin sitting at the back. You smile when you see Winter sitting on the porch, his big and fluffy tail thumping loudly on the wood.
You look to the right and finally see the source of the sound. Bucky stands over a pile of wood and a large tree stump, wielding a large axe with ease. He brings it up above his head and swings it down, splitting the wood perfectly.
It’s hard to tear your eyes away from him and the way his muscles move under the tight clothing. It isn’t until Winter’s cold nose hits your leg that you look away and start walking again.
Winter’s happy barks pull Bucky’s attention from the wood and he turns to you. He sets down the axe and comes over to take the basket from your hands.
“Hi again,” he says sweetly, quickly looking at the muffins before his eyes meet yours again. “I’m glad you came back.”
You hook your arm through his. “Of course, I did,” you state obviously and pull him toward the porch. “Who else am I going to share these muffins with.”
He chuckles and dips his head, unable to hide the permanent flush on his cheeks whenever he’s around you.
“We could sit on the porch swing if you want. Or if it’s too cold you’re welcome to come in,” he tells you. “I could make tea. Do you drink tea? I also have coffee if you prefer. Or something cold? I should have lemonad…”
He’s about to go on but you reach up and place your hand on his cheek.
“Tea is just fine Bucky, thank you,” you say softly. “And we can sit out here. It’s so beautiful and the sun is warm.”
He nods a few times before rushing into the house to make the tea. You sit on the swing and prepare the muffins, gently pushing yourself back and forth with your foot. Winter lays just a few feet away in a warm patch of sunshine.
“Ok, hot tea coming right up,” Bucky says as he pushes the screen door open with his butt.
He sits opposite you on the bench, the basket of muffins between you and places the cups on the small table to the side.
“I brought honey, milk and sugar. I hope one of those will be ok,” he says.
“Perfect, thank you! I hope you like the muffins. I have butter for them too,” you say, holding one up on a napkin.
He takes it and has a bite, the crumbling dough breaking apart and getting stuck on his lips and in his beard.
“Wow. These are amazing,” he raves before taking another large bite.
You move the basket from between your bodies and shift closer to him. You bring your fingers up to his chin and lightly brush off the crumbs before swiping your thumb over his lips.
“They’re very crumbly and messy,” you explain, letting your gaze settle on his mouth before taking a bite of your own muffin.
“They’re perfect,” he stammers, clearly reacting to your touch.
His eyes watch as your tongue traces your lips to clean them of crumbs and he audibly swallows.
“These are amazing,” he mumbles, unmoving.
“You said that already,” you tease, squeezing his bicep before reaching for a cup of tea.
“Did I?” he says, more to himself than you. “I did. Didn’t I?”
You nod with a giggle and take a sip of tea. Winter trots over and rests his nose on the edge of the swing, clearly waiting for someone to share.
“Can I give him a piece?” you ask.
“Sure,” Bucky replies, laughing when Winter scarfs down the piece of muffin in one bite. “That’s one of the ways we’re the same. He loves to eat as much as I do.”
You throw your head back with a laugh.
“Well, that works out just great for me because I love to bake and cook!” you tell him. “As a matter of fact, I’m making pot pie for dinner. You should join me.”
Bucky doesn’t hesitate for a second when he answers.
“I’d love that. Pot pie is on of my favorites.”
You take one last sip of your tea before standing and covering the muffins.  
“The rest are for you,” you say, pushing the basket toward him. “And I have a feeling you’ll say that about a lot of the things I make,” you say playfully. “I’ll see you at 6 sharp then?”
“Yes, definitely,” he whispers, his eyes going wide when you lean in to place a soft kiss to his cheek.
“See you then, Bucky. And don’t forget to bring Winter and an appetite,” you yell as you head back down the path to your house.
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@addikted-2-dopamine @bugsbucky​ @book-dragon-13​ @drabblewithfrannybarnes​ @fxckbuckyscoming​ @hiddles-rose​ @jhangelface0523​ @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123​ @jewels2876​ @littleredstarfish​ @lookiamtrying​ @lorilane33​ @loricameback​ @la-cey @marvelgirl7​ @nano--raptor​ @pinkdiamond1016​ @randomfandompenguin​ @cherryblossomskye​ @tuiccim​ @whatrambles​ @white-wolf1940​
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imerdwarf · 3 years
Text
Old Habits Never Die
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Summary: You're so small that Bucky loves to carry you everywhere on his back.
Pairings: Beefy!Bucky x Short!Reader
Warnings: Just some fluff :)
Author's Notes: @sourpatchspinster I promised I'd tag you in my next short reader fic! 🙈 I also promise this is the last one I'm posting tonight 😂 my requests are also open, I would love to write any ideas you have! 💜
Divider made by me :)
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As intimidating as Bucky Barnes appeared with his strong build, cold eyes and metal arm, he was somewhat of a big fluffy care bear in your eyes.
His intentions towards the team were pure and the only ones he would ever harm were his enemies.
Maybe Sam too if he pushed him too far.
With you, Bucky became this soft teddy that you would always find yourself clinging to him everyday. As soft as Bucky was around you, he gave off this over protective demeanor that made any man who looked at you run in the opposite direction. You felt so safe and secure around him.
Especially given that your height was under 5ft tall. Bucky stood at a staggering 6'1. He towered you while you barely reached his chest. To him, you were this adorable doll that he would love to wrap his arms around and protect. He would love the way his frame would make you almost invisible.
Another thing that Bucky loved to do was to carry you around on his back as he walked through the endless corridors of the compound.
The piggy back rides started as an accident - back a few months ago when you had broken your leg during a mission that went south, Bucky was the only one close enough to hear your cries of pain and came to your aid.
Knowing you couldn't walk, he wasted absolutely no time in lifting you onto his back as he ran as fast and as gently as his legs would carry him back to the quinjet for urgent treatment. All through your recovery, he would have you on his back as he taxied you around the compound, day and night. Even after you had recovered and capable of walking again, Bucky still insisted that you get on his back so he could carry you.
The team didn't question it, to be honest, as long as Bucky was happy and quiet they didn't really care. It wasn't weird to them to find you clinging to him like diddy Kong.
Steve found it the most amusing. Especially as he'd walk into the kitchen most mornings and see Bucky preparing yours and his breakfast with you there on his back. Bucky would move around the kitchen with such ease and didn't even seem to give the impression there was anyone on his back by the way he had bent over to look in the refrigerator.
To say you and Bucky were inseparable would be an understatement. You spent every second of everyday together. The only thing unclear to the team was the status of your relationship. To them, Bucky seemed to be smitten and so did you. But you couldn't answer that question as you really didn't have an answer either. It was an unspoken conversation that neither of you had ever brought up.
It was just past midday when you flopped down on the couch and flicked through the hundreds of movies on Netflix, no particular title grabbed your attention. You gave up with a sigh and buried your face into the plump cushion when Bucky's booming footsteps echoed off the walls of the hallway and into the common room. As he approached your figure, they got louder.
"Hey doll." Bucky poked your shoulder and you groaned, you lifted your head with such reluctance and looked up at the mountain of a man. His red Henley pulled tight across his chest and his black jeans were snug against his thick thighs.
"What's up?" You rolled onto your back and bent your legs back towards your chest when a mischievous grin pulled on his lips.
"Wanna go for a ride?" Bucky winked. He kneeled down by the couch and patted his back. You chuckled and immediately climbed onto his back, his forearms hooked under your knees and the two of you set off for your afternoon stroll. He would occasionally stop to adjust your slipping body, and then set off again, ignoring the looks the agents would give you.
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hotdamnhunnam · 3 years
Text
Five Shades of Hunnam
President • King • Captain • Pilot • Gentleman
Part 1 | Part 2
A/N: Here’s Part 2 of this crazy filthy fantasy of getting gang-banged* by five versions of Charlie!! 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥 Part 2 is written based on the results of this poll asking which Hunnams y’all would prefer in each hole 🤪
Pairings: Jax Teller + King Arthur + Will Miller + Raleigh Becket + Raymond Smith ... x F!Reader Warnings: smut, swearing, dirty talk, rough sex, gang bang* (5 on 1), *NOT gang r*pe – fully consensual, reader enjoys getting ravaged in all of her holes 🙃 Request: Kinkfest request from @itsme-autumn
Word Count: ~3.3k
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GIFs by misterhunnam | hunnamsource | charllehunnam
... Continued from Part 1 [Read Here]
“Tell me, baby. Do you want us to treat you like a lady...? Or whip out all five of our cocks and just go fucking crazy?”
The fact that Jax Teller is here in your room—standing among four other men just as stunning as him, all in the form of Mr. Charlie Fucking Hunnam—the fact that Jax just said that to you... is honestly too hot to be true.
What the hell are you supposed to say to that? Supposed to do...?
You’re soaking wet and need them bad. So horny you feel fucking dead. You want to speak and yet you can’t. King Arthur has Excalibur in hand; the way you’re feeling right this instant, hurts as if that goddamn legendary sword stabbed you straight through.
With fire in his eyes of icy blue, Jax takes a few bold steps toward you. Your gaze falls to his crotch on impulse, and it’s clear from the bulge in his jeans... he’s extremely well-hung. So damn thick. So damn long. So damn big it’s obscene. It’s not as if you’re shocked—Jax Teller always walked and talked like someone with a massive cock—but still, just seeing... is believing like fuck. Plus he’s hard as a rock.
“C’mon, what’s wrong? Cat got your tongue...?” he taunts, not ashamed to whip out a ridiculous pussycat pun. It’s so painfully dumb, but when Jax Teller says it... you basically cum. He’s a devilish dick of a dom, and he loves to flaunt it. “Bet that pussy could use some tongue on it. I mean, if you’d want it.”
Oh Goddd—you cannottt... that shit is just too fucking much, to be honest.
Thankfully Captain Will is behind you to catch your full weight, as you literally start to faint. And the feel of his touch on your skin has you falling all over again. Your poor cunt is in pain. So horny it’s insane, short-circuiting your brain.
But you’re still wide awake and conscious, well aware of just how fucking bad you want this. Every man in the room.
Will reads your mind, now as he holds you from behind. Chuckles sadistically against your ear and it’s fucking divine. “Mmm, maybe if we make her cum... then her brain will be able to function and send us all home.”
“To hell with going home,” Arthur mutters, clearly turned on at the sight of you all hot and bothered. He may be nobler than the others, but he was brought up in a brothel after all and has never denied where he came from. “I swear there’s no woman so fair in all my kingdom...”
“Nor in my dimension,” Ray seconds. “Y/N—ever since we stepped in, I’ve been dying to mention that you are delightfully hot.”
Raleigh smolders, tension in his beefy broad shoulders. The king and the gentleman... aren’t they supposed to be decent like him? Now apparently they just forgot?... “But I thought—”
The President abruptly interrupts. While Will surrounds you from behind, blowing your mind, Jax comes up front. Fucking you up, his words setting a bomb off in your cunt. “Y/N just has to tell us what we all already know she wants.”
And then somehow, you finally summon the words to your filthy whore mouth. Still unable to fathom how you got so lucky. There’s only one way to respond—so you say it now. Say it loud, slutty and proud. “I want... I want you all to fuck me. All at once.”
***************
.
.
.
And so it goes.
You and five versions of Charlie Hunnam, all here in your room, are all ready to burst and give in to your dirtiest thirsts.
First things first: you need Jax Teller’s cock in your throat, and he already knows. He can tell, all too well—and he smirks, hot as hell, because he is the worst. You’ve been so fucking eager to suck off this fictional character ever since you started watching his show.
Now he’s not at all fictional, though. You still cannot believe this is real, and just how good it feels... to know just what’s in store, as you give into all of your instincts to kneel, sinking fast to the floor... that you are actually about to blow the President of SAMCRO.
“Mmm...” the tall blonde biker hums, clearly pleased, as he watches you fall to your knees, reaching now to rip open his jeans like a cheap fucking whore. Jax’s cocksucking hoe. “There we go. Look at that slutty little mouth of yours. Go on and show me what it’s good for.”
Fuck yes, sir. But you’re too breathless now to use your words to answer, as Jax Fucking Teller’s cock is out, so big and hard and proud... a goddamn pillar of perfection...
And you are not about to waste a second, worshiping the President’s erection with your filthy little mouth.
“Unghhh....” he grunts, as you set to work right at once. The sound of his guttural groan starts a flood in your cunt, soaking up while you slobber all over his dick, focusing on the tip. Servicing him with your tongue and lips, loving it more with each lick. Slurping up every sweet drop of precum as it drips.
He is so delicious. You could go on forever like this, as if you and Jax are the only two souls who exist. But you’re not—and the fact that four other versions of the same man are watching right here in this room... just the thought, of five shades of Hunnam, five flavors of your favorite sex god... is so fucking hot.
The truth is that they’re not just here to watch, while you bury your face in Jax’s crotch. They’re here to touch. They’re here to fuck. They know that you want all five of their cocks. You’ve never wanted anything so much.
And just your luck... they want you too. These five versions of Charlie are incredibly turned on by you, though it seems too good to be true.
All of a sudden, you feel hands upon your skin as someone hoists you off the floor. King Arthur has just set aside his sword, stripped off his shirt—oh God, his chiseled muscles are so hot, so hard it hurts—and flings you easily over his shoulder like a little fucktoy whore.
“The fuck—” the President protests as your mouth slips off of his cock, with a loud pop, once the king swiftly lifts you up. Jax was not at all set for this blowjob to stop. He wants more of this mind-blowing head. “What the... I wasn’t done yet...”
“Did you not hear what Y/N said?” Arthur reminds him, as he carries you across the room and throws you down onto the bed. The way he effortlessly handles you like that... you’ve never been so wet. “The lady wants all five of us at once. You took that pretty little mouth of hers—such a sweet hole to fuck—but there are others. Now it’s time for her to take a royal cock. Give her exactly what she wants. I’m gonna lay claim to her cunt.”
Then he attacks you with a fierce animalistic grunt, tearing his leather pants away to free his meat, and ripping off your clothes as well to make sure that you feel all of his heat. His feral dominance is everything you need. The way he grabs and gropes your tits, with one of his hands... while the other reaches down to stroke your clit... holy fucking shit. You seriously can’t. It’s more than you can stand.
“You think you own that cunt?” Jax comes to butt in, all of a sudden. “Think just ‘cause you’re king you can do what you want? Well, think again. I said I wasn’t done.”
The President then reaches right under Arthur, before things can go any farther. Grabs you by the shoulders to pull you up into a better position. Like every inch of you belongs to him.
Both of these men are just manhandling you at their whim, and it feels like heaven to be sinking into such a state of submission.
The king of England and the king of Charming end up grappling for dominance for a few moments, until their struggle is cut short by a quick interruption: the captain. He’s sick of this childish behavior from them. No matter the problem, Will Ironhead Miller can always propose an efficient solution.
“Cut the bullshit—it’s not rocket science, you idiots,” he says as he tells the men how to best handle their business. “Look: Y/N sits on the king’s cock, then biker boy stands at the side of the bed, so that she can lean over and give him head.”
His suggestion is met with a pause.
Jax is first to break it, while you lie on the bed wet and naked. Glaring alpha male daggers at Ironhead, chest proud and puffed. “What, you think you’re the boss?” he indignantly scoffs.
Arthur huffs, his own ego a little bruised too. But then poses the question to you, his voice all at once tender yet rough. “That sound good to you, love?”
You cannot help but swoon at the word he just called you. How is it he’s so fucking hot, yet so cute...? Your head bobs in a dumb speechless nod; it’s the most you can do.
“Yeah, ‘course it does,” the captain confidently gloats, as you settle into the perfect position that he had proposed. Take the king in your cunt and the President deep in your throat. “Just what she loves. Dick in her mouth and her pussy. Especially because this leaves her pretty little ass ready for me.”
You could honestly die at the thought—that sounds painfully hot...?!? And so dirty... you’ve never once taken two dicks in two holes, let alone three in three... but goddamn do these men make you thirsty.
The second you sit down on King Arthur’s cock... your world is fucking rocked. He’s so epically big—just the same size as Jax’s enormous dick—speaking of which, you go straight back to being the President’s cocksucking bitch. Jax grabs you by the head from where he is standing at the side of the bed, fingers tangling in your messy hair as he feeds you his huge cock to suck. Your face will always be his to fuck.
And you still can’t get over your luck.
“Such a good little cockslut,” Jax snickers at you as he swiftly shrugs out of his kutte. Then the flannel beneath, knowing that looking up at his broad sculpted chest and his firm rippled abs is exactly what you want and need. You take his dick deeper this time around, gagging on his massive meat, gulping every inch down, and he’s so long and thick that it feels like your jaw fucking broke.
It feels so goddamn good to get wrecked, especially now with the words he says next. “You like the way I own this filthy little throat? God, you’re filthy as fuck. Taking my dick so good. Bet you can’t wait to swallow my load. That’s it, slut. Suck that cock till you choke.”
His dirty talk is so hot you can’t even cope. You used to imagine it back when you were just a fan of his show—now it’s actually happening though, and it’s more than your inner fangirl ever hoped.
And of course, it’s the instant your eyes roll back into your head, as both Arthur and Jax fuck you up on your bed, till you’re ready to burst... that the captain decides to step in and take full control, over another hole. If you thought taking two cocks at once was already the best and the worst, nothing could have prepared you for taking a third.
But the truth is you love how it hurts.
Having Jax Teller fucking your facehole all sloppy and juicy, while King Arthur slams his royal scepter into your soaking wet pussy, and Will Miller shoves his brutally big dick in your tight little ass, taking your cheeks in his tight grasp and dishing out punishing slaps... it feels like all your dreams are coming true at last. Literally cumming true at that. God, it feels so fucking good to be so fucking bad. It’s by far the best sex you have ever had. Satisfying all your sluttiest thirsts.
And as if shit could get any hotter... you’d almost forgotten that there are two others.
Two other equally beautiful versions of Charlie: the savage yet soft-spoken gentleman Ray, and the soft-hearted fighter pilot Raleigh.
You don’t even have enough holes in your body for all of them. Not sure whether and how you can handle another two Hunnams. But hot damn are you happy to tackle that problem.
As Jax and Will and Arthur keep railing you harder, filling you in every way you want... you hear another voice from nearby in the room. All at once cool and classy, yet naughty and nasty. It has to be Raymond. “Well now, who knew that this lovely woman... would turn out to be such a kinky fucking cunt.”
Ughh, fuck—you moan desperately all around Jax’s cock, the only way that you can respond. Who knew? No one. You didn’t even know it, till this moment. But now all five shades of Hunnam do. Their presence in your room has definitely brought it out of you.
At the gentleman’s words, the President flashes a smile and a sadistic little chuckle. All the while keeps on ruthlessly ravaging your filthy little fuckhole. Driving his dick into the back of your throat till it hurts. Till your slobbering tongue and your bottom lip smush up against his big balls. Addresses Ray as well as Raleigh, who is standing quietly along the far wall. “Tough luck for you all, but this bitch is fucking full. Too bad she’s only got three holes...”
“She’s got two hands, though,” Ray points out, coming toward you now, his footsteps so deliberate and slow. “What do you all reckon they’re good for...?”
Oh, good Lord...
“Stroking? Squeezing...?” he asks, reaching to take one of your hands in his dominant grasp. Wrapping your fingers tight around his throbbing shaft. You cannot even anymore. Just cannot even... “Mmm, it seems to me that Y/N summoned up five Hunnams for a reason. To be used up like a proper fucking whore.”
Three cocks have swiftly turned to four, and you can feel poor Raleigh bolting toward the door. This filthy business goes against his soft, pure heart. He’s never witnessed—let alone dared to take part—in such a hardcore pornographic scene as this...
But here he is. And can’t deny that he’s rock fucking hard, as you can tell from one quick glance, out of the corner of your eye, at the massive bulge in his military pants. And you’ll be damned before you let that pretty boy pilot escape from this. He fucking can’t. You need two cocks in your two hands.
“Don’t pussy out on us like that,” Will masterfully commands, beckoning Becket toward the bed. “You know we’re all just Y/N’s guests; this is her universe. So we’re just... here to satisfy her thirsts.”
And then he grabs hold of your shoulders, to anchor himself as his thrusts in your ass become faster and bolder, which ends up pushing your head deeper down in Jax’s crotch. Slamming into you like it’s his job. And it’s too fucking much. Fucking you the fuck up.
But you don’t ever want it to stop.
Raleigh seems reluctant to abide by Will’s orders. But something compels him to do as the captain said—come toward the bed, like a good little soldier. “You guys are the worst...”
“No, far from that,” Arthur replies with a filthy laugh, as he keeps on splitting your wet pussy in half with his majestic staff. “This may look bad, but how it feels...? Fucking unreal. Quite honestly the fucking best.”
Oh God fuck yes...
You can sense Raleigh coming closer toward the bed with timid steps. Can feel his captivated blue gaze watch your body as it bounces on the mattress. You’ve lost track of who’s thrusting the hardest, the fastest. It’s all just a beautiful big fucking mess...
“Now let’s see if the fifth cock is as big as all the rest,” Jax playfully suggests. “See if this dirty little slut can take us all at once. Just like she wants. Let’s put our fucktoy to the test.”
“Fine, if you all insist,” the pilot yields at last. “But only ‘cause she wants it. Honest.”
“Just shut up and let her get her hands on it,” Raymond grunts, frustrated and impatient, until Raleigh finally gets in position.
And once it happens—once you wrap your fist around his rock hard cock, getting completely fucked, by five versions of Hunnam all at once... it’s even better than you had ever imagined.
You eagerly jerk both men off, all while the other three keep ravaging you good and hard and rough. You feel so full, in all your holes, and more, down to your deepest core. Your inner whore. This is exactly what you live for, what you love. And you won’t ever get enough.
By the time all five Hunnams are ready to soak you in their fucking cum—which happens at the same time for all of them, since apparently they’re somehow in unison, being all versions of the same person from different dimensions... by the time that happens, you’ve already lost count of your own orgasms.
This whole session, for your slutty ass, has just felt like one epic extended climax. Will and Arthur pounding into you in a perfect rhythm, from the front and the back, while you jack off Raleigh and Ray, all while gagging on Jax... you could do this all day every day. And there’s no other way for your body and soul to react.
You’re nothing but a fucktoy for five shades of Hunnam and that is a fact.
As the three sex gods buried balls deep in your holes fill them up so deliciously full, the other two drop their loads all over the cheeks of your ass and the curve of your back. And you’re having an absolute heart attack. How is a mere mortal bitch supposed to survive this...? Your brain is blown to bits. At this point it’s an actual struggle to even exist.
But you’re a shameless whore, just desperate for another hit. For fucking more. Of all the countless possibilities of five versions of Charlie in your three holes and two hands... all you want is to try literally every combination, and then once you’re done, just repeat them again and again and again.
It is literally raining men. Not just any men—five incarnations of your fucking sex god obsession. All five of them are living breathing perfection. Wrecking you till it hurts, till you burst, fulfilling all your thirst, in every way from every direction.
So maybe eventually you’ll have to send them back to their respective dimensions...
... But till then? You will sure as hell make the most of this mind-blowing multiverse blessing. Maybe if the sex keeps on being this epic they won’t even dream of leaving. Just won’t even...
And you’ll be more than happy to host them forever in this dimension. Can’t imagine any damn thing better than five incarnations of Charlie, right here fucking you in your bedroom. Because honestly, five shades of Hunnam... are five shades of heaven.
***************
Okayyyyy so I know this was FUCKING INSANE FILTHY SHIT but I hope there are some kinky bitches out there who enjoyed it! And would love to hear if you did!! 🤪
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