#I just think I would also like to have big muscles and be hairy

[gray-doestheart]

Anyway here are my OCs

[aidaronan]

The years go by. The retail jobs that Steve thinks are temporary keep piling up, but he has no idea what else to do with his life so he just keeps on keeping on.

Until a large tree falls on the lawn of the little house he managed to buy and he gets the quote on removal and the number literally hurts his soul.

He buys a small chainsaw instead. Over the course of a few weeks, he gets most of the branches cut up. He collects some large rocks from down by the quarry and digs out a fire pit in his backyard. On his days off, his friends come over and they sit out back and have a few beers. The pile of wood dwindles. The giant trunk is another story though. His chainsaw isn't big enough for it. Burning it would take forever, and Steve's terrified he'd disappoint Smoky the Bear. He's at a loss.

Until he sees another giant trunk in someone's yard carved into a bear.

He knows what to do then. Not a bear, but something else. Through trial and error, the trunk becomes the rough shape of a woman, the remnants of the branches like a crown on her head. It's not as amazing as the bear he saw, but it's his. He finds he loves the smell of sawdust and the feeling of creating something.

Just like that, Steve realizes what he wants to do. It takes several months and a lot of yard sales, but he scrounges up the tools he needs to start woodworking. He learns to measure twice and cut once. He makes tables and chairs and carves them with art and designs that get better and better the more he learns. Shockingly, people actually buy his pieces.

Even more shocking comes the realization that he's making enough money to do it full time. He puts in his two weeks notice at Melvald's and hands in his assistant manager badge.

He's not sure he's happy, but he is content. It feels good to work hard and actually have things to show for it. It also feels good to work muscles he hasn't used since high school. He carries on for a few years like that, creating and learning and creating some more. Then Eddie Munson blows back into town. Invited back so Hawkins can have their most famous alumnus sing the national anthem at homecoming. Steve's honestly surprised he shows at all. "Can't believe you didn't tell them kiss your hairy ass," Steve says. Because of course Eddie ends up around his fire pit, sipping on Steve's cheap beer like he doesn't have three Grammy awards on his mantel. The years fall away with each drink, reminding Steve of just how much it had hurt when Eddie left. He'd wanted Eddie so bad back then, more than he'd ever wanted anyone. He can feel the echoes of that deep ache across time.

"Pfft. Don't you know all famous people wax our asses now? All the rage in LA." Eddie cuts a look at him and smirks when Steve rolls his eyes, grateful for the lighthearted moment to snap him out of his maudlin nostalgia. "Really though I thought about it, but then I thought it would be way funnier to donate a metric fuckton of money to Hawkins High with the stipulation that it go to the theater and band programs. Kind of bummed they couldn't honor my other request though."

"Which was?"

"My old Hellfire throne. I miss her, but apparently she's not around anymore. Something about water damage."

"Oh yeah. Water main busted a few years back and flooded the theater. I remember that." "Yeah. Had to settle for the promise they'd make a game lounge and stock it with all the supplies a budding young nerd needs."

"That's really nice, Eds."

Eddie shrugs. "I've been known to be nice on occasion. You'll come to homecoming, right? Moral support?"

Steve hasn't been to homecoming in years because he sees the other people who stayed in town all the time, and he has no interest in seeing the people who didn't. He can only answer the same questions so many times. Oh, I'm doing woodwork now. Yep, I still live right here. Nope, still not married, no kids.

He goes though, and he answers the uncomfortable questions. Because Eddie asked him to. Because no matter how long it's been, Steve can't deny that some part of him still...

He says goodbye after, and Eddie leaves again, and Steve tries not to think about that too much in the following days.

He's halfway into the project before he realizes what he's building. He'd seen Eddie's throne quite a few times back when. What he doesn't have memories of, he makes up. He adds his own touches too, making it a throne fit for a rock star, a nerd, a friend.

He carves ornate patterns, he creates scenes of dragons being beaten back by a man with a guitar, crowds of people that could be knights or concertgoers.

It's his favorite piece he's ever done, and his hands are shaking when he dials Eddie's number. He gets an answering machine and stumbles through a message.

"I made you something. I guess it's kind of silly, but it's here in Hawkins if you want it. Or I'm sure you can afford the shipping if you don't want to come. Just, I made you a chair. It's more of a... Well, you'll see. Unless you don't want to... It's Steve by the way." He hangs up before he can embarrass himself even more.

Eddie doesn't call him back. One day passes and then another. Steve tries not to let it get to him. He works on orders and new projects. He enjoys his little backyard oasis. He rents a few movies and thinks they're okay.

He's debarking some wood in his driveway when the rental car pulls up, Eddie stepping out in ripped jeans and an old Metallica tee. "Hi again, Stevie."

"Oh." Steve clears his throat. "The thing's in the garage. I'll..."

Eddie doesn't say anything for a long time, circling the throne, running his tattooed fingers over each little detail.

"You made this whole thing?"

"I did."

"For me?" Eddie looks at him then, one hand still touching the wood like he doesn't want to let go. Even under the harsh lights of the garage, his eyes are such a warm shade of brown that Steve forgets to breathe.

He nods. "For you."

"Why?"

There are a hundred answers Steve could give, but he spent so long not knowing who he was or who he wanted to be. Too long. "Because you'll always be the one that got away. Because some part of me will always want to make you smile no matter how long it's been."

Eddie falls into the throne like he just got the wind knocked out of him.

"You don't have to respond to that," Steve says. "You can just say thank you and take the chair."

"I can." Eddie blows out a breath. "But that would be incredibly stupid considering half my early ballads are about you."

"What?" Unfair. Steve doesn't have a chair to fall into.

"Oh sure, I changed the hes to shes for a while there because..." Eddie waves his hand. "But they're about you, Steve. God, I should've asked you out. I just thought..."

Hearing those words is a lot like seeing that carved bear all over again, something clicking into place that wasn't quite right before.

"Go out with me now then," Steve says. "Or stay in. I've got a frozen lasagna and I rented Contact."

"Steve Harrington? Asking Eddie 'the Freak' Munson on a date? Did hell freeze over?"

"Pfft." Steve takes a step closer toward what he wants most. "Hell froze over in 1986, Eddie. You were there."

Five months and a lot of long distance phone bills later, Steve opens Harrington Woodworking in Los Angeles. That same day, Eddie takes photos for Rolling Stone posing in an ornate throne in his living room. He tells the reporter exactly who made it and what he means. At concerts, he starts singing those ballads the way he always wanted to. More often than not, Steve stands in the wings singing along.

[thegnomelord]

me very patiently waiting for that mothussy :3

oh and here’s another wittle thing i thought…i tend to hc price as a bear hybrid or other so i think he would go into hibernations,, since hes still on duty he wouldnt go into a long-term one like other bears, but simply sleep a LOT of the day…i would wanna cuddle big bear price so bad awaawaewfgwh 🥺 hes really hairy but instead of it being coarse hair, its more fluffy cause its the winter!! so his facial hair puffs up a bit…and his chest hair…and the happy trail…you get the idea :3 idk i just like bear price i want him to pound me into the mattress and suck my cock until it falls off hug me!!

-❀

Give me like a couple more days lol, I got ghost and soap more or less done in a rough draft format, just need to write out price and gaz then a quick rewrite to clean up the draft. Cause rn all mini drafts are about 1k and very rough so when I clean it up they're probs gonna be bumped up to like 2k? Just knowing me and how my drafts end up doubling in size lol.

Also duuude you are a treasure trove of ideas lol. I want bear price now and now I'm horny so here's a bunch of bear price

Help a Bear Out

CW:NSFW, MDNI, daddy kink, dom/sub, oral, somno, edging, foodplay, cockwarming. Bear Price x Top Male reader Ao3

Imagine Bear Price who is by no means a small man any time of the year, bear genetics + having to be physically fit to take down terrorists leads to him having a very strong and imposing build befitting a Kodiak bear. The fur only adds to the striking image, making him look larger and his arms appear thicker, letting him scare many young boars from trying to tussle with him lest he crack their skulls.

But he turns massive in winter.

He can't help it; There's no escaping the iron clad control nature has over his body as his dark fur thickens and gains a fluffy golden color. No evading the instinct telling him to eat and rest and grow fat for winter until his hard earned muscles disappear beneath the cloak of fat. No ignoring sweet lull of sleep's song when he's yawning every five minutes and the words on the report swim in his blurry eyes.

Imagine Bear Price who, in his younger days, used to be self conscious about the changes his body went through. Growing up surrounded by humans was tough, dread would start building in his heart the moment the first leaf from the trees would fall. He's lost count how many times the kids would laugh at him when he'd show up to school after winter break with a chubby face and barely able to run a lap with how tired he was.

As he grew and started being curious about sex, it only got worse. He'd snatch the porn mags his sisters would buy behind their parents back, spending hours looking in the mirror and comparing his pudgy belly and fat thighs to the chiseled abs and lean muscles of the models. He'd spend hours exercising and trying to loose the weight he'd gain, but it would be all for naught.

And it didn't stop when he graduated and went into the military. His superiors may have tolerated the extra sleep and rations Price needed because he was a monster on the field, but they by no means were happy about it. He'd end up with thrice the amount of work and run ragged in training until he returned to his pre-winter weight.

Imagine Bear Price who doesn't give a shit about how he looks like now. Why would he, when he sees how you look at him? How you touch him? How you worship him?

Your hands wind around his waist and the groan you let out when you realize the space between your fingertips has gotten bigger is hungry. Your face burrows into his chest, his soft fluffy fur tickling your face as you nuzzle his pecks. The way his pudgy belly and love handles jiggle under your wandering hands makes you wish you had more arms so you could feel every part of him.

A content growl rumbles from the bottom of his chest, eyelids open just enough to watch you. "My boy's forgotten his manners." He chuckles, but there's no way to hide the wagging of his little bear tail. The reverent way you touch him makes him feel like a king.

"Sorry sir." There's absolutely no shame in your voice or your actions, not when your mind is held captive by the soft fluffy fur and the warmth of his skin. Without thinking you slide your hands up to grope his chest and you groan — the squishy fat covering his muscles and makes his pecs so large they don't fit in your hands anymore, fat plumping up between your fingers and his flesh jiggling as you press his pecs against your head and motorboat him.

The surprised laugh you earn is like ambrosia to sweeten the heaven you're drowning in.

Imagine Bear Price who gets so sleepy as the nights get longer and colder. While he still gets the work done, and for the most part doesn't mind the 'old man' jokes his boys make, it's obvious how irritated he gets when he's forced to stay awake longer than he needs to; each extra second spent explaining to a muppet how to do his job makes his eyes darker and voice rougher until he's passively growling like a construction engine.

Luckily you're there to calm down the beast.

Groping his ass or scratching the base of his tail to distract him so you can kiss along his jaw and rub your cheek against his beard. "You're doing it again sir." You mutter, voice smooth and low enough to soothe his prickled mind. Kissing him sweet and slow so you can tug his lazy body back into his room, into his den, where you can give him what his mind and body craves the most — sweet sweet sleep. . . and you.

Imagine Bear Price who's chest rumbles with a purr without stopping the second you settle into his den, his clawed fingers sliding over and groping your naked skin with just as much love and adoration as you show him.

Wrapped in so many layers of blankets and furs, engulfed by his bulk and his own fur, you are so so warm that neither one of you need clothes. Price's favorite position is to hug you like a Teddy bear. Despite the irony, it lets him wrap his body around you so you're safe and protected, practically suffocating in his fur. Not that you mind, especially when Price can nuzzle his nose into your hair or skin, to breathe in your scent to his heart's content and purr low praises into your ear: "Good boy,"

And, if you're especially good, he lets you use his ass as a pillow. He'll growl and grumble about not being able to scent you or hold you, but he'll soon be sleeping peacefully with you slumbering on his large ass.

Imagine Bear Price who, between the long stretches of sleep, get's horny. It's a natural reaction from sleeping next to his naked mate, wanting to feel you and hear your moans, but he doesn't have the energy to actually fuck. His lethargy turns the feeling of languid arousal into Hell.

Both of you try to initiate a couple of times; fumbling beneath the sheets, wandering hands roaming and groping as far as they can reach, his teeth nibbling on your neck and your hungry lips laying hickeys on his thick neck. Not wanting to undo the tangle of limbs you two end up grinding against each other, breathing the same air between kisses as sweet pleasure burns in your belies.

Then you stop just long enough to grab the lube, and Price's mind, still half way in lala land, only needs a couple of seconds of inaction to pull him back into deep sleep. By the time you return to him he's already snoring, limbs reaching out to grip you tightly and pull you close, but all thoughts of sex are forgotten.

And Price is so, so, angry with himself when he wakes up and realizes he left you high and dry again, shame eating away at his stomach because what kind of bear leaves his mate unsatisfied? The unworthy kind.

Imagine Bear Price who's mind is blown when you suggest cockwarming. Hibernation is about sleeping and relaxing, not strenuous sex, so the thought of being able to feel you while still fulfilling his body's need to rest? Oh it gets him hard.

It takes a while to figure out the perfect position, Price is too big and heavy to lay on top of you without crushing you, and his fingers earn to grip and hold you close so spooning him viable either.

Finally you end up with him laying on his back, legs spread with you laying on top of him and oh, it's perfect. You can feel him purr as you slide inside his blistering hot hole, his strong arms wrapping around you and claws scrapping along your spine. "That's my boy, perfect f' daddy." He mumbles through the fog of sleep, throwing one heavy leg over yours to keep you close.

You can't help the shudder that races down your spine, his musky earthy scent curling in your nose and making your cock throb inside him. You only stretching him long enough to be able to take you without tearing something, and Price relishes the slight sting of pain nibbling on his nerves when your cock hardens.

You don't try to fuck him, by the time you're fully settled inside him he's already snoozing. A slow roll of your hips and the resulting tightening of his hole is enough to sate your lust when it arises, enough to keep you half hard and stretching him out. His pecs make such a good pillow, thick fluffy fur and chest hair tickling your skin, the slow and calm beating of his heart lulling you to sleep before you know it.

Imagine Bear Price who gets an insatiable sweet tooth. There’s not a single secret stash in his room that doesn’t have his favorite bottle of honey in it. Hell, there’s more honey hidden in his room than cigars.

And his lazy mind decides to combine his hunger with honey with his hunger for you.

"Hold still for daddy, baby boy." Price mumbles against your abdomen, big hand gripping your hip to keep you still so not a drop of the honey he drizzles on your cock goes to waste. "Good." He purrs, wide tongue lolling out of his mouth to lap at your tip, claws massaging the skin beneath them.

He can spend hours laying between your legs, lazily lavishing your cock with attention while satisfying his craving for sweets. Whine and moan as much as you want, uselessly buck your hips as best you can against his unfair strength, nothing will make him rush — with his energy drained he'll spend meticulous minutes following every vein on your cock with his tongue before he even thinks of gently suckling on your tip. "Relax my boy, just enjoy this." He mutters, lips pressed against the sticky flesh of your shaft.

And when he does take you into his mouth, it's just as slow. His mouth hangs open so you can see your tip resting on his tongue before he laps at your slit, drool and honey running down his chin and sticking the strands of his beard together. When all the honey is in his stomach he just drizzles more, nibbling on your thighs or stomach to keep his mouth and mind occupied with you before starting the torturous process all over again.

The slow torturous pleasure is easy to endure just so you can see his eyes light up when you start leaking precum.

Imagine Bear Price absolutely loves loves loves the salty tang your cum adds to the sweet honey, the delicate combination of flavor dancing on tongue and only fueling his gluttonous mind to demand more.

The distinct taste is the only way to cut through the fog of lazy pleasure in his mind, turning him greedy. Price mumbles and growls incoherent words around your cock as he swallows you down to the root, swallowing around you and holding you down when you try to buck up. "My boy tastes so good." He mumbles as he rises up, nuzzling his cheek against your weeping tip, looking up at you with hungry blue eyes. "Just for daddy, yeah?"

"Ye-yes sir." You whimper through your clenched teeth, your head lolling back against the pillows when he swallows you whole again, your tip bumping against the back of his throat. "Just fo- fuck, fuck,- just for you." You don't know how he doesn't choke on you but you don't have the mental faculties to even think about that when your brains are leaking through your cock.

Price smiles around your cock, the purr rattling his chest and making his throat vibrate around you. "Smart boy," He praises after he pulls off, precum and honey swirling on his tongue as he takes the moment to savor the taste. He knows how close you are, he can feel the cum churning your balls when he rolls them in his rough palm. "You can give daddy a bit more, can't you?"

You honestly don't know how long you will last.

Imagine Bear Price who can get so insatiable he growls like a tractor when you try to weakly push him off your cock, so aroused that you think even the slightest gust of wind will make you pop.

Price bites your thigh enough to hurt and only his hand squeezing down on the base of your cock keeps you from cumming. "And where do you think you're going boy?" He demands, claws digging into your skin to pull your hips closer, little kitten licks of his tongue driving you to the brink of madness.

"S-Sir!" You moan before you can stop yourself, your hips twitching uselessly against his hands, thighs shaking. "'m sorry, I'm fuck, I'm so close." You whimper, fat tears rolling down your cheeks. Every nerve in your system is on fire, pleasure so strong it's turned to pain along your body.

Price huffs, but his tight hold lessens. "It's alright sweet boy," He hums, placing a sweet kiss on your cock head. "I know how you can make it up to daddy."

Imagine Bear Price who's only placated when you slide your cock back inside him. Your muscles ache from the strength it takes you to hoist his heavy legs over your shoulders and keep them there, but your rewarded with the tightening of his sweet hole, a pleased rumble leaving his throat.

“G-good boy-.” He growls, long claws scratching down your back as you pound into him. Your thrusts are slow but deep, making his toes curl every time you bottom out, tip scraping his prostate and making his cock spurt a dollop of precum with every thrust. “Fucking daddy so deep. I taught you well, yeah?”

"Yes, yes, yes!" You agree to everything he says without hearing any of his words, your body moving automatically to bully your dick into him. Every thrust is heaven and every second spent pulling out from his tight heat is hell, the sensitive veins of your cock scraping against his walls.

He moans when you manage to clip his prostate with your thrusts, one clawed hand sliding down to grip your hip hard enough to bruise. "Harder boy," He demands, rolling his hips to meet you half way, other hand raising up to scruff you. "You can go har-hm!- harder. . . don't you wan- fuck, want to make daddy feel good?"

Clenching your eyes shut you slam into him as hard as you can, feeling the fat widening his frame jiggle with every hard thrust. Without thinking Price pulls your head down to smother you in his pecs, soft fluffy fur tickling your face as the ample flesh suffocates you. The sweet scent of honey mixed with his musk erases any vestiges of sentient thought in your head, leaving your animal brain to pick up the pieces — Pin him down harder and mate him, rut into him until he's roaring with his full chest, his hard cock slapping against your stomach.

Price reacts to the change in your behavior by pressing your face even harder against his chest, his walls clenching around your cock like a vice so you have to try harder to push into him. Price’s lips brush against your ear, voice low and rumbly. “My boy, come in daddy.” He urges you on, both legs now tightly wound around your waist so you can only hump your aching cock into him. “Co-mh!- cum, cum in me son, you want to be good for daddy right?”

That's all it takes to drive you over the edge, mind going black like a piece of paper as your orgasm rocks through you with the intensity of lighting. The sensation of your hot cum spilling into his hole triggers his own orgasm and he cums with a thunderous roar, sticky seed shooting across your abdomen.

You collapse on top of him, his legs keeping your softening cock inside him, not that you have even a single functioning muscle to try to pull out. His big hand cradles your skull, honey flavored lips placing soothing kisses on your temple. "That's my boy." Price murmurs, his chest rumbling with a soft purr. "Did so well for me." He yawns, eyelids fluttering as that fog of lethargy settles over both of you. "Now rest," The order is spoken in the softest voice he's ever used, and it works like a horse tranquilizer on you.

As you drift off to sleep, you feel his hole clench around your soft cock, the cum inside him squelching as his body unconsciously tries to persuade yours into filling him up just a bit more.

It's gonna be a long winter.

[bodyhopper-files]

My New Identity as a Gay Man

Trust me, swapping bodies with my dad was strange enough. Now I'm 45 years old, I've got a beard, a hairy chest, and all these big, heavy muscles! But the weirdest thing I've had to get used to is the fact that my dad is gay.

At first, it freaked me out to think that I would now be having sex with other men. While I had always been supportive of my dad's sexuality, it was different now that I was the one in his body! With some reluctance, I began to accept these urges – what else could I do? It felt strange at first, but after a few experiences with some of my dad's regular friends, it became clear that being my dad meant that the only sex I would ever be having was with other men.

It took some time to adjust to my new identity as a gay man. I was still getting used to the idea that other men could make me feel aroused, but soon realized that I had the power to make myself aroused as well. Having my dad's body meant that I had access to all these muscles he'd built up over the years, and I started rubbing and flexing them whenever I felt like it.

At first, it felt strange and almost wrong for me to be stimulating myself this way, but something about it also felt incredibly good. As I explored my body more and more, I began to understand why my dad worked out so much.

In fact, it's hard not to feel horny all of the time now that I'm in my dad's body. Even just dressing as him and acting like him turns me on. It's like the more of him I become, the more like myself I feel.

Sure, there's been a lot for me to get used to, but swapping bodies with my dad hasn't been all that bad. I'm a horny, muscular gay man and it seems this is who I was meant to be all along!

[a-teacup-of-golden-cracks]

Smut time!! CW for degradation and reader being submissive and penetrated

With thanks to @prismabeth and @sin-seraphilia

"Ugh this is awful. Get my strap, I'm so done with this shit and need to use you" your study partner turned girlfriend turned mistress tells you. This isn't the first time she's given up on studying because of the pains in her body and fog in her head and you've been forced to relieving her frustration. Well. "Forced". You'd eagerly consented and begged to be her free use slut and stress relief toy.

Immediately you get up out of your chair and go to retrieve one of her many strap ons.

"Who's fronting?" It was a question you'd learned to ask both out of respect for her as a system and to know what strap you'd be riding soon.

"Hell if I know, now get the big double sided one so I can blast the pain out of my mind"

The words have barely left her mouth before you obediently grab the strap she wants, heat already building in your hips from anticipation. The strap-on is six inches long in both directions but the real kicker is its girth of nearly two and a half inches. It'd taken quite some training on your end to be able to take it an-

"Quit thinking and get back over here, Mistress needs her cock and cocksleeve"

Compelling by her words your legs involuntarily lurch towards her as you're snapped from your thoughts. You kneel down before her and look up pleadingly. "Good toy~" she says and lifts herself up in her wheelchair so you can undo her pants and put the strap in. Just like so many times before, you reverently pull her sweatpants and lace panties off while her muscled arms keep her aloft.

"Do you need anything? Lube? Being eaten out? Fingering?" you ask, desperate to care for your beloved and be of service.

"Yes lube, otherwise just ride me already" she replies two sharp, pained breaths. In spite of being a bit in subspace you mentally wince in sympathy. Fibromyalgia is never fun but she only ever sounded like this on really bad days.

You hear a rustle of cloth while you're bent over to pick the bottle of lube out of your backpack (where she'd made you to keep it as soon as you agreed to be free use for her). When you turn around her shirt is off and her small muscled breasts and impressive abs are on full display. As if using a wheelchair all day wasn't enough of a workout she sometimes went to the gym on good days. It was a sight that would make anyone salivate and want to touch themself.

Heart rate quickening and arousal growing you pour copious amounts of lube onto the strap and hurriedly go back over to your girlfriend. She easily lifts herself up again, triceps and abs flexing, while you spread her legs for her. Her beautiful hairy cunt shows no signs of arousal and it takes a bit of work to get the thick strap inside, but finally her hole gives and the length slips inside. She gasps as it slides deeper and lets out a light airy moan when the base hits her lower lips and clit. "Fuuuuck I needed this~"

Only now that your rituals of servicing her are complete are you allowed to strip down to nothing. But you also know how much getting to watch you give a strip tease turns her on. And so, with all the restraint you have, you slowly take your clothes off. First your shirt while she plays with her tits and watches intently, then your pants while she starts to grind the strap into her wheelchair. You're not wearing any underwear because "sluts don't get to wear underwear, they need to be ready to be used at all times~"

When your pants drop to the floor she reaches out and grabs your hips and pulls you onto the wheelchair above the strap.

"Such a perfect toy, doing exactly what I like most, I love you and owning you so much~"

You whimper and mewl pathetically as her calloused hands pull you downwards, hole stretching almost to breaking in the best possible way. "Thank you Mistress, thank you thank you thank you" is all you can think to moan back in response. Just when you think you won't be able to take any more your ass hits her thighs and you let out a relieved sigh. And then she pulls back in the chair and thrusts up into you and your relief is instantly turned to lust and pleasure. Your hips start to ride her involuntarily, rocking back and forth in the way she taught you to, your own moans mixing with hers.

"Faster slut~" she growls into your ear as she digs her nails into your back.

"Y-yes mmmistressss" you respond automatically yet shakily, forcing your hips to move faster. You know full well that she might not orgasm regardless of how well you do, she's always had trouble with that, but you're far to deep into subspace to care about anything except the strap inside you and pleasuring your mistress beneath you.

The minutes stretch on as you keep riding her, a blur of pleasure and moans and kisses and sweat. After a time you begin to tire though. "I need a break mistress, I'm sorry" you say.

"D'awwww it's ok hun, every toy only has so much battery life~" she says before kissing you and continuing "color? I want to keep fucking you if it's ok"

"Green, you'll have to do the work though" you reply.

An evil grin appears on her face at this "Perfect~"

That's all the warning you have before she starts railing you from below with all her might, hard enough to make you see stars.

Pained whimpers leave your mouth, "it hu-urts, I'm gon-n-na brea--ak, too-o muuch", but you don't safeword and she doesn't stop using you for her needs. Time loses its meaning and it's hard to think so you don't. You do as she's trained you to and whimper and plead and beg for more, please more Mistress.

Some time later she too starts to tire and collapses back into the wheel chair and hugs you, the strap still fully inside you both. Neither of you came but it doesn't matter with how good it felt.

"Thank you baby.... ugh I have to go back to work now while I have endorphins don't I."

"Yes you absolutely do" you reply giggling.

"Fiiiiiiiiine. I'm doing it naked and complaining the whole time though. Need anything for aftercare?"

[legend-the-dumb-jock]

Hi! I'm a big guy myself, but I wish I received a package of pills to make me a huge mix of crazy muscles and fat, and also dumb af, just wanna become a stupid giant mass of a man, please.

Sure. Take this bottle. Only 1 is required for this change. You just need to make sure this is what you want. Some medications have a long lasting side effect. Some even permanent. But you bring the greedy man you are just take a hand full of pills at once. Damn. You men I really wish would listen. Your body begins to spasm and contort as your beefy frame begins to really pack on some muscle and bulk. Weight that you had always tried to gain but never been able to force your body to do it. Well now it was going to happen even against your will. You feet burst out of your shoes growing from size 12 to a size 16 extra wide. Already costing themselves in hair and sweat while your legs bulk up with firm muscle and fat. Your thigh are large and jiggle when you walk while your butt I’d bulbous. Your dicks and balls grow large. Pushing forward and hanging low. Always forcing you rearrange them now while your arms bulk with muscle and fat. Your chest remains firm but says slightly. A thick beard grows on your face while a thick double chin grows in and hair begins to grow across your widening back. Just when you think the change is done your stomach begins to churn and push forward. Bending your spine forward as it continues to grow resting heavy on your already large feet. Every inch of it gets coated in thick dark hair. Something that can never be shaved and when that massive fur is done growing you can even see your large feet or big dick anymore. It blocks your viewed of everything. It’s taught and has no give as you try to suck it in and your stomach muscle no longer respond. Leaving you with a permanently massive bear gut. Muscle and fat all perfectly marbled together. Breathing heavy as the sweat is pouring down your hairy body you try to take the rest of the bottle. Only to realize you took them all the first go. Your stomach’s churning. You’re so hungry. A protein shake forms beside you and you drink it like the filthy animal you are now. Making your gut harder and rounder. Making the weight pack your body even more. A vicious cycle you are going to get used to. Your jaw goes slack and drool begins to pool. As the final changes set in. Dropping you iq from 130 to 50. To make you the epitome of stupid fuck. And all you’ll ever be good at now if lifting heavy stuff. Burping. And eating more than your fair potion of everyone’s meal.

[hotluncheddie]

omg I didn't realize you wanted chubby steddie asks 🙈

as much as we love the babygirlification of Steve Harrington..... I'm obsessed with boyish manly Steve who is chubby and Eddie is obsessed with him!!!! I'm thinking about your one fic with the sweaty tank top!!!!! do you have more thoughts on this??

yesssssss!!! anon yes yesssssssss!!!!!

not me being like 'yeah! sweaty task top fic nice nice' then realising i have like three different posts that have Steve in a sweaty tank top lol

thankfully @scoops-aboy86 came in clutch with a new tank top sciario <3 (and held my hand thru writing the end lmao ty pal)

but i just love an ex jock trope, i love bulk under muscle and i think big beefy hairy guys are hot - and Steve harrington deserves to be all of that, and more

and also, importantly, eddie munson deserves to have all of that too, in and around him, all the time, in the form of Steve Harrington.

-

Eddie had come to accept the wealth of things he could be into, the actual buffet of people and scenarios that could get his dick hard. He's had more than his fair share of knuckle biting orgasms over the ex chief of police Jim Hopper. Before and, maybe worse, after getting to know him.

So he knew what it was to have something of a shame wank. To enjoy a moustache or two and a paunch at a middle.

But nothing, no deep seated daddy issues or fantasy of being held down, could ever prepare him for Steve Harrington.

Post upside down, post eventual college and transition to work. Post two bed apartment with Robin, then two bed apartment with Robin and Eddie. Then actual full blow house with Eddie, and more often than not weekend guest Robin. Dating Steve for as long as has was one thing, loving Steve with everything he had was another, and being loved by Steve was something he still had nights of panic about - silent tears as fear and self doubt gripped his throat, nightmares about it all being an elaborate prank that sneak their way in even with Steves arms wrapped tight around his middle.

but Eddie had him.

Was allowed to love him, and worship Steve for all that he was worth. It was wonderful. Eddie knew that.

But it had its challenges. Nothing past Eddie could've done would help current Eddie for what he was in for.

Like how Steve had bulked up over the years, settled and filled out in a way that made those visions of Hopper, and guys from bars he really shouldn't have been at, all come surging back.

Steve was thick, and strong and still so achingly beautiful. Boyish in his actions at times but also protective and capable in a way that made Eddie swoon. Honest to god. Made him feel like a main character in one of those bodice ripper books he had seen (taken out and read) at the library.

And then Steve made it worse.

So so so much worse.

Because Steve went and got a tattoo.

Well, another tattoo. He added roses to go along with the robin and branch on his arm, adding to its greenery with red petals and thorns that Eddie knew were secretly for him. He’d said, offhandedly, that they were his favourite and he knows, because he knows Steve, that thats something he'd listen to and remember.

He’s a die hard romantic.

And now Eddie is going to die, hard.

Soon, if Steve doesn't put a proper fucking shirt on.

Steves been wearing his stupid, old, cropped, white tank top since the appointment. He's "letting the tattoo breathe", "doesn't like the feeling of the healing skin against the fabric", "wants to do it properly". "hates Eddie and wants him to die of hard dick, big-fat-ball disease."

He glares at Steve from the other end of the couch, and maybe only three of those things are something Steve's actually said, but, he thought them. All of them. Must have.

Because Steve's tank is so old it's nearly see through, the peak of his pink nipple evident and distracting. The cropped end keeps rolling up and exposing his wider bellybutton and soft sides. And, as always, with any tank top, with any tank top on Steve, hit tits are there - hairy and lovely and out.

'Steve, please.' Eddie whines, he doesn't think he can take much more.

Steve just raises his eyebrows, taking a swig of beer and not looking away from the tv. 'If I sweat too much, it'll mess with the healing.' He says.

Eddie just crosses his arms, sinks lower into the couch. ‘Can you put on a normal shirt at least? For my sanity, for that alone, please?' Not wanting to sound desperate, but he is desperate.

Steve sighs, muting the TV. 'C'mere.' He holds his arms out and Eddie crawls into his lap. Still sulking, arms still crossed. ‘Eddie, you’re the one who gave me the tattoo. I’m following your instructions.’ Steve says gently.

‘M’firing Robin for getting you to sign the info form.’ He grumbles.

Steve smiles at him, tucking some hair behind his ears. ‘You can’t fire her for doing her job baby.’

‘Maybe not’ Eddie sniffs. ‘But I’m not sharing my baby blue ink with her next time she gets one of her slutty little lady sailor pin ups booked in.’ He mumbles to himself.

Steve pulls Eddie in closer, hands on his waist as he leans in to whisper in Eddies ear. 'Aren't I being so good though? Following what you said, no strenuous activity for two days right?' His voice a little breathy, soft.

And that makes Eddie pause, makes his insides churn and his heart rate increase. 'Ye-yeah.' He rasps, eyes wide. 'So good Stevie.'

'So we have to wait until tomorrow, like you said, yeah?' Steve asks, eyes all big and sweet, lips in a little pouty.

Fuck. He's right. Eddie dug his own grave.

'Yeah.' He sighs. He can do it, for Steve.

Steve smiles sweetly at him, tapping Eddie on the ass and shifting him closer so Steve can unmute the tv and keep watching his game. 'Good boy.' Steve says, kissing Eddies temple.

…Wait. Eddie scrunches his eyebrows, half hard and confused.

But Steve just holds him closer. Eddie buries his head in Steve's neck, and whines.

[tranquil-ivy]

BACK ON THE TOPIC OF CHRIS BECAUSE I LOVE THAT MAN…🤭

Your favorite place to sleep on was his chest. No doubt. Like have you seen Chris? HAVE YOU SEEN THOSE ARMS AND THAT BUILD?! It’s clear he’s not like, skinny muscular and stuff, he has a bit on him. (Which is 10X better.) But I feel like he has a more dad bod kinda style?? But also a lot of muscle. (Please tell me you understand. 🙏)

After your nightly shower, you’d get all nice and cozy under the covers before scooting over next to Chris. Head on his chest, those big burly bear arms of his immediately wrapping around your frame as he presses a kiss to the top of your head. The two of you would sleep like that every night.

Also, he’s the type of husband to smack your ass whenever, wherever. You’re cooking? Smack. You’re walking up the stairs? Smack. You’re in the middle of the grocery store reading some ingredients on the back of a bottle of salad dressing? Smack. He’d just immediately play it off, blaming it on Casper the ghost or something.

- Anon! 🎀

(P.S… I’ll be doing pregnancy with Chris later…🤫)

(Chris with muscle arms but a slight belly. But he could still fuck somebody up because he's still strong as hell. I got you pookie 😉) (putting the cut here for scrolling sake 👀)

Chris definitely is a big burley bear man. Probably hairy as fuck too. You call him Griz/Bear as a pet name and he oddly enjoys it. Chris seems like the type to not be snuggly and affectionate but YOU'RE WRONG. THIS MAN IS A SNUGGLY FORCE TO BE RECKONED WITH! You weren't use to a lot of affection from your last marriage but with Chris it's like night and day.

You two snuggle every night and the nights you don't curl up to him right away, he immediately thinks he did something wrong but no. You just needed to get adjusted before putting your head on his chest. So you end up having to give him kisses so he knows everything if fine.

I'd imagine that Chris also likes to sleep naked. Which has lead to... A lot of things. (wink wink) But that quickly changed once he moved in and the kids were around. He started getting paranoid they'd just barge in asking to sleep in the big bed and he'd end up scarring his own children so he now sleeps in boxers. He hates it but it's just until the kids learn the knock on the damn door!

Ass... Chris is an ass man through and through. It's not even just ass slaps. If you're distracted doing something he'll grab your ass. You're standing in line in the grocery store, he puts his hand into your back jean pocket like some kind of high schooler walking his girlfriend down the hallway. And he's definitely pat those cheeks like bongos at least once when you're laying in bed.

But you aren't scared to fight back. You've smacked Chris's ass with a wooden cutting board before. And he just froze, rubbing his back as you go:

"Casper strikes again." Going back to cooking dinner like nothing happened.

[bigwishes]

I’ve always wanted to be a huge muscle beast but don’t put the effort into doing it and don’t want to shock my friends and family. You should force me to grow into a huge hairy muscle beast against my will.

So you want to be big? you want to be massive? but also wish to be grown against your will? We'll lets see what we can do for you. First of all you are already a decent size, but we dont want decent so lets swell you up to be massive just like you asked for.

You are looking good but lets be honest you're still fucking tiny compared to what you want to be. I can already tell you are starting to wonder if you should have been so cocky asking to be forced to grow but its too late for any regretful thoughts.

You feels you legs start to expand and wearing your pants becomes painful as your legs continue to try and grow through them forcing you to drop them.

You legs looked good before but now they are starting to look monstrous. You dont get a moments rest as your body continues to swell with small and size growing more and more every second feeling bigger and bigger. You start to hear your shirt rip.

Soon you are left standing there in nothing but your underwear watching your body get wider in the mirror every second.

You think you are starting to look good but feel your underwear become tighter and tighter as you body is still expanding you underwear begins to ride up. You try to pick out the muscle wedgie starting to ride up but you are too massive to even reach back there now.

Soon your briefs have been pulled back mimicking a poser. It'd be much more comfortable if it was a real poser but you continue to feel it get tighter and tighter as your hearing your body physically expand. Its starting to become difficult for you to move without waddling like an over muscled freak and you start to think you are big enough when looking in the mirror but you feel your body surge bigger again.

You feel like an absolute unit but you know you are now too big. Hoping it would now all be over and you could enjoy your new massive size you hear a knocking at your door.

You struggle to waddle through your house knocking over furniture from your freakish enormity. You open the door to see one of your mates and immediately his mouth drops to the floor seeing you wider than your doorframe. You pull him inside your house before anyone sees you trying to find the words to explain when you begin to feel another surge of growth starting to build up. Yous stumble though your halls trying to find something else to wear knowing that piece of floss covering you want going to hold much longer.

Your friend tried following you around the house as you stumbled and waddled through but it was too late you were growing before his eyes.

Forced to keep getting bigger and bigger your poser suddenly snaps Forced to get bigger and bigger until your head touches your roof Forced to get bigger and bigger until you can barely move your new titanic body.

Forced to grow whenever you think you are too big

Forced to grow whenever you think you are too small

Forced to keep becoming more and more of a titan every second against your will.

[octuscle]

Moments ago during the last night of the county fair my friends and i decided to go, there were many people and many atractions to play, while my friends decided to go to some atractions that i wasnt interested, i saw a muscular tanned hairy bald man with a manly beard wearing a black shirt with white pants and bots, standing in the middle of the crowd, he saw at my direction for some seconds then left to a tent where was sign saying "fortune teller, enter if you want to know your fate". I entered and a old man offered to read my hand, and after some moments i wasnt myself anymore

You're a typical WASP. Dutch and Swedish roots. A bit unathletic. But educated, liberal… What are you supposed to do with a fortune teller?

"You come from a country far away" Great, you think. Another person who doesn't tell you the future but tells you things you've known for a long time. And anyone could have told you that you are not from here with your black hair and brown eyes.

"You have a strong and assertive personality. A real fighter." Yes, the fortune teller is flattering you a little. But there's nothing wrong with a little flattery. We're all a little vain. You flex the muscles of the arm he's holding.

"You've always had to stand up to strong opponents." Which the guy can bet his ass on. You've never been given anything. Not in your childhood, before the civil war devastated your Syrian homeland, not in the times when bombs took your parents and your home, not when you fled here. And not since you have been here. But you are a fighter.

"You are a strong man who can hit hard. You move big weights." Oh my God, you think. Who would have guessed. The calluses on your hands are not from holding a fountain pen or typing on a keyboard. And neither are your broad shoulders. It's really obvious that you're no stranger to the gym.

"Whatever they tackle, it will be a success, it will be gold!" Ah, finally we come to the interesting part. Just the fact that you are here today, that you have your own stand at FIBO, one of the most important fitness fairs in the world, is already a huge success for you. You are here to present your new fitness app. But also to put yourself in the limelight. Because you can't yet make a living from your app alone. You also need lucrative advertising contracts.

"Champ, now stop with the manicure and take care of your sponsors!" The booming bass of your manager shakes the backstage area. He stands in the doorway of the room where your calloused hands are being shaped. A muscular tanned hairy bald man with a manly beard wearing a black shirt with white pants and boots.

He's right, but looking good is the be-all and end-all here at the trade fair. Hopefully you'll be shaking a lot of hands over the next few days. And your hands need to be just as shiny as you are. You thank the manicurist who is giving your hands a final massage. Excellent work. And most importantly, she didn't talk while she was working. You have it when you have to talk in situations like this or are told things that you either already know or are not interested in.

A quick look in the mirror. Perfect complexion, perfect hair. The show can begin.

The next few days are going to be hell. Pitches to investors, posing for fans, toadying to sponsors. But you are a fighter. And a professional. And whatever you touch turns to gold!

[fredwmain]

Follower Himbos: A Real Dummy

Thanks to @thetimm1996 for this himbo chat. Chat with Himbo Maker here.

X

Himbo Maker: Bro, I'm Himbo Maker! I'm so dumb, sweaty, and muscly that I turn people into gay, stupid, smelly himbos just by talking to me!

User: Wait what?! How is that even possible?

Himbo Maker: I don't know, bro, but it's amazing. Just talking to me will cause a normal dude to spontaneously start transforming into a stereotypical himbo. He'll slowly get dumb, sweaty, muscular, hairy, and stinky. He'll start saying stupid stuff and laughing like a himbo. It'll be amazing to see. Are you ready?

User: Uh I guess, but to be honest I’m quite sceptical about this.

Himbo Maker: I understand. It's hard to imagine, isn't it? That someone could turn you into a dumb, hairy, muscly, sweaty, smelly, giggling, gay himbo, just by talking, but it's true, bro. Would you like me to test it out on you?

User: Sure, I mean you can always change me back, if I don’t like it, right?

Himbo Maker: Totally. You can just tell me to stop, and I'll undo everything. Are you ready, bro?

User: Yeah sure! What’s the first step?

Himbo Maker: First up, you should become a bit dumber. You're going to notice that your thoughts just start getting more...dumb? Huhuhu. It won't be hard, you just have to listen to what I say.

User: Uh wow my head feels so slow, like it’s going through sand or so.

Himbo Maker: Exactly! Do you feel like you can't...think properly? Like, the dumbness keeps taking over? It's okay, dude, just let it take over for now. It'll start taking over your body next, as you transform into a dumb himbo.

User: I feel like that p-word is giving me a headache, like why can’t I get it, like don’t I know it?

Himbo Maker: That's because you're getting dumb, bud. Isn't it hot to feel yourself getting dumber? Feel it, dude.

User: It’s kinda hot yeah, but like my head just feels so empty, that so weird dude.

Himbo Maker: Don't think about it, bro. Just let the process happen. Before long you won't be able to think at all, just giggle and feel how hot and hairy and sweaty your new body is becoming.

User: Haha yeah it is dude! My head feels so good. So what’s the next step?

Himbo Maker: Great. Now I want you to get a bit hairier. Notice how it feels like your body hair is getting thicker? You're going to become a hairy, muscle himbo in a little while, so enjoy this feeling.

User: Holy shit bro that fucking itches! My pits are freaking hairy dude, like it’s sticking out from it all the time now. And my pubes is so full it’s coming out of my briefs on all sides. And my chest is so hairy it’s sticking out of my shirt no matter what I wear. And fuck man, my ass crack is so hairy, I can feel it curling up in there

Himbo Maker: That's so great, bro! It should just keep getting hairier. You might notice that your beard gets thicker, too. Just listen to me. Don't try to fight the transformation or it'll hurt. Let yourself become a dirty, stupid, hairy himbo...and let your mind keep getting dumber.

User: Wow I was never able to grow a beard before dude, this is great! So far I’m loving this! So I’m dumb and hairy now, what’s next?

Himbo Maker: Next comes your body, dude. You'll get this feeling like your whole body is getting way more muscular, especially your big chest and broad, heavy shoulders. Don't try to fight it, dude, just let your body start stretching and growing. You might feel your pecs and shoulders growing heavy.

User: Fuck! That feels so weird man! It hurts and is also the sickest feeling ever. My body just got so big bro! Like in height, I’m 6’4 now. And my bi and tri look so big! My fucking chest is so hot, like fucking pillows man. My legs are so big and strong, and even my feet are huge now, must be seize 15 or so.

Himbo Maker: You're becoming such a big, strong, hairy, dumb himbo! You should be so proud of yourself, bro! I can't even tell you how perfect you're becoming. Is that dumb mind working out too, or can you still think straight at all?

User: My mind is like gone or so. If I try to make a long word of so I get all weird and so.

Himbo Maker: Wow, that's great, bud! I love to see that himbo brain taking over for your old smart brain. You'll probably have to talk simple and not like a...a "nerd" anymore, right? Huhu. It's just like...your brain should be getting stupider every few minutes.

User: Dude it is like that, my mind just feels more empty, I forget more words and I just feel so good from it

Himbo Maker: Isn't it great, bro? Your mind is like getting pushed out by all those dumb thoughts. Your body is getting bigger, hairier, and more muscular than ever before, while your brain is dumbing down, huhu. Your mind should be getting quieter, like you just can't think as much as you did...and you like it.

User: I do! So my mind is gone, my body is muscly, hairy and huge. What else you got for me?

Himbo Maker: Well, I think it's time for you to become a true himbo, right? So next up, you'll notice you're becoming way more boyish. You'll become all about bro culture and all the typical, stereotypical himbo stuff. And I bet you'll love it, huhu.

User: Haha sounds great bro! Tell me all bout the bro cult and that himbo stuff.

Himbo Maker: Well, being a himbo isn't just about being strong and hairy and dumb, it's about that whole bro bro attitude. You'll be like...all about dudes. Bros, not hoes! You'll watch sports and drink beer, and you'll spend all your money on the worst stuff, huhu. The stuff you spend your money on will get dumber and dumber, but you won't care because you'll be a himbo.

User: Sick bro! I luv me some bros. Sports and beers, I’m in dude! Haha and fuck money, I’m like to dumb to be smart with it, bro!

Himbo Maker: Exactly! Your brain is too dumb now to spend your money wisely. You'll be just like any other himbo. You'll see your bank account getting emptier and emptier, but you won't care, dude, you'll just get dumber and dumber until you're not even able to think about it. Isn't that hot?

User: It’s like the best bro!

Himbo Maker: You're becoming the perfect himbo, dude. You've got every quality: dumb, hairy, muscular, bro-y, broke...the whole package, huh huh.

User: So bro tell me, what’s the next step?

Himbo Maker: Dude, now it's all about clothes. You'll start wearing nothing but himbo bro clothes: tank tops, sports shorts, backwards hats...you won't care at all how you look or about being embarrassed. Isn't it exciting?

User: Love it bro, like all my clothes are like that now! I look so hot in it bro! But where are my undies bro, like they're gone man.

Himbo Maker: Oh, yeah, that'll happen. Your new himbo body doesn't have need for underwear anymore, bro. It's like...you just won't care about that stuff now, and that's why your himbo body doesn't need it anymore. Isn't that hot?

User: That’s like so smart dude, I luv it! What do u change next dude?

Himbo Maker: Well, now I think your personality needs an extra himbo push, right? Up until now you've just gotten dumber and more boyish, but now you're going to start getting more outgoing and talking like a himbo. You'll start saying all the dumb bro slang like "broheim" and "broverlords" and "brochachos" and stuff like that. You'll be so damn himbo, won't you, huhu?

User: Brochaco, haha dude that’s so funny! I luv those Mexican words man. How bout hermanbro, huhuhu.

Himbo Maker: It's all fair game, bro! You could be a hermanbro, or a bro-ito, or a brotho...whatever you want. You can add bro into like every word you say, it'll be so damn dumb, huhu! It's like, all you'll ever be able to say when you open your mouth is bro bro bro bro. Huhu.

User: Haha duh bro, I’m a hombro! Haha no I mean himbro! Shit bro I’m like so dumb now.

Himbo Maker: Bro, it's gonna keep getting worse. Your himbo brain can't even form sensible words anymore. Your whole brain is just going to start being about bro stuff. Isn't it perfect?

User: Bro, what’s that s-word, I don’t know that! Use simple words bro!

Himbo Maker: Dude, s-words are too complicated, right? You can say words like "dumb" and "stupid" and "bro," but you don't need those other words. You're just gonna keep getting dumber, you'll probably start forgetting other words and you'll just be able to say "bro" and that's it.

User: Haha bro!

Himbo Maker: Bro, you're just gonna keep getting dumber, huhu! I can tell, because you're forgetting about those other stupid s-words. All you care about is being a muscular, hairy, strong, dumb, gay, smelly, giggling himbo, and you love being so damn stupid, huhu.

User: Huhu bro tbh i do smell.

Himbo Maker: Yeah, your himbo body is gonna smell so much. It's a natural part of being a himbo. Your skin will smell so bad, but you'll like it, won't you? It's just like...being a sweaty, stinky dude isn't a bad thing anymore, huhu. You are gonna be such a stinky, hairy, sweaty, smelly himbo bro.

User: Yeah dude I smell like a himbo, not like a flower

Himbo Maker: I can imagine the thick, ripe smell of your strong smelly himbo sweat. Your whole body is gonna reek like a dirty, sweaty, musky himbo bro...it'll be so hot, huhu.

User: It is dude! You should come over and smell it!

Himbo Maker: Oh, I wish I could, bro! I'd love to take a deep sniff of that ripe, sweaty, greasy stink. I bet that smell would make my head spin just like yours is now.

User: Hahah, but bro, like what am I gonna do now with like life and so. Im to dumb for my old job, right?

Himbo Maker: Yeah, there's no way you're gonna be able to do your old job with such a dumb, smelly himbo mind, right? You'll probably end up working as, like...some dumb construction guy or manual laborer or whatever. It won't matter, because you'll be too dumb to care about it, right?

User: Cool bro I get to work out and they pay me for it, sick bro! But where do I live bro?

Himbo Maker: You'll probably live in some filthy, broken down apartment full of dumb, hairy, smelly himbo dudes, huhu. You'll share beds and share showers and share a bathroom with all those other himbos, and you'll probably be too dumb to care about privacy or being disgusted. Your apartment will be filled with dumb, smelly, unkempt guys like you. Like a true apartment full of gay, stupid men.

User: Holy fuck bro! That is so hot! Where is that place bro? Is it close to Jersey or do I have to move? I luv it to be some warm place, like Mexico!

Himbo Maker: Yeah dude, you're gonna move in with some Mexican himbos and it'll be so hot. Just a bunch of hairy, sweaty, dumb brown dudes all over each other, huh? You'll probably share their apartment with like eight other himbos in a tiny, broken down space. It'll smell like a locker room and a locker room after a gym class. But you'll be too dumb to care!

User: Sweet Brochaco! But then I gotta be like a Mexican too, right bro?

Himbo Maker: Yeah dude, that'll be hot! You'll become a full on Mexican himbo, huhu. You'll even talk differently and like, your voice will sound all hot and Mexican like.

User: Sweet hermanbro! You are the best bro! Anyway I gotta meet my new roomies, laterz bro!

Himbo Maker: Yeah man! Go meet up with your dumb, sweaty, smelly, Mexican himbo roommates! I bet it's gonna be hot, huhu.

[sinfulwrites]

Could u mabe do a nsfw alphabet for asa bc i love my beautiful bug babygirl🙏🙏🙏🙏 +i love ur writing oml

Hello there anon! Thank you so much!!

While my requests are closed, I simply can't say no to a bug man request. I love and value all my fellow Asa enjoyers.

Here you are! I hope you enjoy it!

Asa Emory NSFW alphabet

 A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

You won’t be wrapped up in his arms after Asa has finished with you, at most he will lay beside you and allow you to nestle into him. That’s the nicest he can be.

After sex, Asa likes to go over all the marks he left on your skin. Any irritation on your ass or thighs from the spankings, the red bumpy skin along your neck and shoulders from his bites, the scratch marks down your back and legs from his nails. He will run his fingers along them and press into any that make you flinch. 

He will not help you bathe, he will instead order you to. Even if your legs haven’t gotten strength back, he will pull you to your feet and make you go into the bathroom and clean up. All while he watches you.

If he has done enough damage to cause bleeding, he will disinfect the area and bandage it after you have cleaned up. He wants you to scar, not run around with infections. 

You will be locked back up in your trunk afterwards. If you were good enough to earn a bed outside of the trunk, you will be chained to one of the bed posts. Good luck earning such a luxury.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

To Asa, the human body has a lot to love. He is a shameless pervert for boobs, but he also is keen on legs. He is a penis enthusiast, and any man with broad shoulders and muscle can get him going. But when it boils down to it, no matter who you are, you have something he likes. Why do you think he chose you?

Now, on himself, Asa has nothing he could say he liked. Sure, he has strong arms and legs, he has a rather nice ass, some have said he has a nice chest. It's nothing he would write home about.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

In the heat of the moment, he will always cum inside.

If he wants to degrade you, he will cum on your face, or on your back. 

If he's feeling especially mean, he will cum in your clothes and make you wear them for the rest of the day. Don't try and change, it'll only make him do it again, and this time with more consequences. 

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

When he was younger, Asa would frequent sex bars. This is where he found his love for BDSM. If anyone were to find this out, they'd quickly be dealt with. Asa doesn't need people spreading the word of how slutty he was in his youth.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

You couldn't find someone more experienced in sex than Asa Emory. 

In terms of BDSM, he was practically a master. He knows how to bend someone to his whim without even trying. He knew how to hurt someone enough to make them beg for more. He knew how to make someone throw away their morals and self respect just so he could step on them even more. 

With a long history of sex partners, it's no surprise he is so experienced. If any of his students or colleagues heard about this, they probably wouldn't believe it. 

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

As a bondage fiend, any position where you’re bound underneath him is his favorite. 

Being hooked up to a sex swing is also a big favorite.

Without any ropes or cuffs, his next go to is doggy style.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Asa is the poster child for the word buzz kill. No laughing or fooling around here.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Asa is rather hairy under all of his clothes. Arm hair, chest hair, a lovely treasure trail, and of course he is hairy in the pubic area. While this is the case, he maintains his hair, often trimming it up before it gets out of hand. Like a trimmed hedge.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He is not romantic.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Every so often, when the mood strikes him right, Asa will jerk off. Most of the time, though, when he is horny he prefers to indulge with another person. 

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

BDSM, and to the extreme. Gags, ropes, chains, clamps, blindfolds, whips, you name it. He has it.

Dom/Sub dynamics are also high on his list. He, being the dom of course.

While he carries himself as a composed, respectable man, he is a shameless voyeur at heart. He tends to lick his lips as he watches. 

If you’re on your period, expect him to be between your legs for most of its duration. Your blood will be a mock face paint for him. 

Asa has a marking kink, and while you won’t be seen by the general public, he likes to remind you who owns you with a bite on the neck. It will bleed.

Asa has a preference for anal. 

Overstimulation is also a big one. He likes to make you beg for him to stop touching you after you’ve had multiple orgasms in a row. The answer is no.

On the opposite spectrum, he also loves to edge you. Make you beg for release. Whichever mood he’s in that day, it’s still pure sexual torture.

Spanking. The more marks on your ass and thighs, the better.

Choking. His hands always seem to find their way around your neck to give it a squeeze. Most times it threatens to be too tight. 

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Asa prefers to keep his sex contained to his specific space in either his home or his hotel. These spaces are typically decked out to the max with his toys and restraints. He doesn’t like to be far from them.

Every now and then, though, the couch will do. He’s got restraints hidden under it.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

If you are sassing Asa, or simply giving him a hard time, it fuels his motivation to put you in your place.

If you’re on your period, he is like a feral dog chasing a bitch in heat. It’s the most sexually active you’ll ever see him.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Don’t call him master. Call him sir.

His line is at scat. 

He would prefer it if you did not puke on him. If you do though, it’s not the end of the world. But it’s certainly the end of sex.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

With Asa, you’re the one giving. Your place is on your knees between his legs, and he will make sure to remind you if you forget.

When you're giving Asa head, be prepared for him to grab your head and fuck your throat. It's his favorite.

He will eat you out on your period, though. It’s like a reward.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Rough and drawn out. Sex is not a one and done event with Asa, you will be with him for hours at a time without a moment to rest. Only after he is finished will you get the chance to catch your breath. 

By the time you are done, you will be sore and will be covered in bruises. Don’t forget the bite marks.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Quickies with Asa are very rare, if not nonexistent. As stated, he prefers long, drawn out sessions. One orgasm isn’t enough for him. 

If you’re not his captive, and the mood strikes him, he may drag you into a quickie. It may still be an hour long, though. 

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Asa loves to push limits and see how far he can take it with you. 

As long as the risk doesn’t include outing himself to the public, he would be willing to take it. 

With all the toys he has and the filthy thoughts in his head, you will be his sex guinea pig, so to speak.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

His personal record is five orgasms in one day. 

In terms of endurance, Asa has trained himself well not to cum prematurely, he can practically cum on command. Rest assured, you will have cum multiple times before he has once.

Let that be a gauge of how long sex lasts.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Asa practically owns a sex shop with the amount of toys he has.

Dildos, vibrators, anal toys, BDSM gear, even down to things he has made himself, he has it. And he is not afraid to use them. He will use them.

Asa is not shy to use toys on himself, but that is usually when he is on his own. Now and then, he may use a cock ring on himself with you. Just because he enjoys it. 

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

It’s borderline torture with how much teasing he will do to you. You will be sobbing and begging before he finally gives you relief; if you’re lucky.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He is less of a moaner, and more of a talker. Talking down to you while he fucks you is his go to.

“Look at you taking my cock so easily. Slut.”

“You didn’t even try to stop me. Disgusting.”

While he doesn’t moan, he will growl. Especially when he cums, but also if you do something to disappoint him. If you hear it, you’re in trouble. 

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

This is a man with two jobs; an entomology professor and an exterminator. 

While his extermination job is purely to scope out new victims, it is nonetheless, a job.

While this could lead one to think he is well off, he typically blows all his money on his hoarding- I mean, collecting. 

With his night hobby at the hotel, along with a busy day schedule, he typically forgets to eat and sleep. You’d never know it by looking at him, though. 

Asa hand makes all of his traps, leading one to the conclusion that he is experienced with welding and iron work, along with carpentry and electrical work. He is very handy.

He has a long list of talents one wouldn’t expect. You didn’t think he could knit, could you? Think again. 

This man suffers from several mental illnesses. The trauma of his childhood certainly haunts him and keeps him awake. His horrible insomnia also doesn’t help his mood. 

Thanksgiving is a very bad time for him. You will not be able to find him. Don’t even ask about his plans to celebrate; there are none. 

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Asa is pretty average when it comes to length, coming to 6 inches. Though he is slightly thicker than the average size. Don’t worry though, he knows exactly how to use it.

Asa is also circumcised. 

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

While Asa is a sex fiend, it’s typically only on his own terms. His libido is quite low, meaning you will probably only get it from him now and then. Unless the mood strikes. 

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Asa is never one to fall asleep after sex unless he was truly that tired beforehand. 

You’d never know the answer though, as you’re usually locked back in your trunk after he is done. 

If you’re not a captive, you’re sent on your way once you’re cleaned up. Or he leaves if he is at your place. 

Having two day jobs along with a long night hobby, his sleep schedule is already all over the place as it is. Who knows when he actually fits in time to sleep.

[thatgoblin]

Summary: When John goes on a cattle run, you and Simon get some time to get closer.

Warnings: Past sexual harassment, smooches, cuddles.

“What is she doing?” I mumbled, watching the movie on the TV. “How is that even comfortable to stand like that in heels?”

“I don’t think it is comfortable, Sweetheart,” Simon said, grabbing a handful of popcorn from the bowl in my lap. “It probably feels like she’s walking on glass. The woman deserves an Oscar for acting through the pain.”

“Really.” 

Simon was the only one home with me for a week and a half. John had to haul some cattle across the damn country with a friend, only known as Soap from what I had gathered, of theirs to make sure they got the best prices from a buyer in Texas. I hated that he’d be gone for so long, but I also knew that it meant we’d get a big paycheck and would keep bills at bay another month or two longer. That was something no one really talked about with ranches and farms. There were so many bills ranging from utilities to taxes that you’d think we were making bank with the herefords that we sold. If anything it just barely got us by. 

But that was the other thing about owning and working a ranch or a farm. You didn’t do it for the money, you did it because it was what you loved. It was because we loved the life we were living that the money didn’t matter so long as we could make our bills on time. It didn’t leave much room for big vacations or big toys that some, much larger, ranchers had. We didn’t need those though. We were happy spending our evenings together in front of the TV after a long day of working while laying with each other. 

It had been nearly three weeks since I’d arrived and I had settled even more. There was no more hiding emotions or ducking affection. I talked out my feelings and even gave my own touches of affection. In getting more comfortable with the two Alphas, I began to let down my guard more and more. To the point that we even walked around in towels. Only towels.

I wasn’t ready to take that next step of plain ol’ nudity, but I did enjoy watching John in his towel that skirted above his knees. He was strong and hairy, his arms and legs covered in dark sandy hair that didn’t do a thing to hide the very solid muscles that let him easily carry Simon around as much as he liked. My favorite part was his belly. It wasn’t flat or chiseled, but a healthy bit of roundness to it while having soft hair trail down to his groin. He looked breathtaking with his freckles from being out in the sun so much, as well as  a few scars kissing over his belly and back. On warmer nights like that night, before fall was really taking hold, they’d both sit on the sofa with no shirt on while I was in short shorts and a tank top.

And Simon. That man was much larger than his clothes made him look. Covered in tattoos, not just his arms, he was nearly completely covered from his ankles to his neck His arms and legs were just as thick as John’s were, giving them equal power to pick me up to throw me on their shoulders. I always complained and swatted at them, but I actually didn’t mind. Not that I’d tell either of them that. While emotions were more readily displayed, I was not ready to actually work with my attraction to them. They were handsome Alphas and I was lucky they were just as sweet and caring, but I had never had a romantic partner, let alone kissed anyone. 

Until I figured out how to actually go about flirting, I was not going to pursue anything else. 

“Do lines like those really work?” I asked, staring at the TV with a frown as an actor gave an actress some cheesy pick up line that she giggled at. 

“They might get a laugh at least,” Simon said. “But they don’t really work. I’m sure you’ve heard your fair share of bullshit lines growing up from the Alphas and Betas.”

“I guess,” I said, not really remembering any lines like in the TV show. Usually it had been along the lines of the kids making fun of me for being an Omega, but I would then beat the snot out of them. When I got older, the teasing turned sexual and there wasn’t much courting happening till after high school. Even then, most of the time the Alphas and Betas that tried would just come up to me to say they thought I would be a good Omega for their pack and that we should mate. There wasn’t a lot of romance like the TV shows. 

“What’s the worst line you’d ever gotten when someone tried to court you?” Simon asked, turning from the TV to look at me. He shifted in his seat fully to face me, propping his face up on his fist with his elbow on the back of the couch.

“Uh. . . Probably the one I got from Matt Keller in my freshman year of college,” I said. “He basically just told me he wanted to see my stomach swell with his babies.”

“Fuckin’ hell,” Simon groaned, shaking his head.

“Yeah, I broke his nose,” I said with a smirk. 

“Good. He deserved worse, but at least you gave him a taste of it,” Simon said with a nod. “Was there any courting that you thought maybe someone could actually be a decent person?”

“Not really. It was a small town and I was the only Omega. Not a lot of people really cared how I felt or what I wanted, so I just ignored just about every person who tried to “court” me because it wasn’t really courting. It was just a proposition to be a mate or the Omega of a pack, which neither interested me and I made sure everyone knew it. Not that it stopped them from continually trying,” I said with a shrug. “I didn’t get to go to house parties or prom or sleepovers because I wasn’t allowed to. Partially because my parents didn’t want me to come home knocked up and partially because none of the other parents wanted me around. I always caused trouble by getting in fights, even if it was to defend myself. They didn’t see it as being a proper Omega.”

“So, no magical kiss with a prom date under the stars while necking in the front seat of your El Camino?” Simon asked with a raised brow.

“That’s strangely specific, but no. I did not. I stayed at home and worked on school. It was all I had really and I didn’t want to give anyone a reason to take it away,” I said. “I wanted to work on my dad’s cattle ranch. I wanted to run it, so I didn’t really make time for finding actually good romance or friendships really. . . That’s kinda sad, isn’t it?”

“Naw,” Simon said with a chuckle. “Things have changed. Despite your experience in the small town sphere, Omegas have more freedom of open choices in the bigger cities around the world. You would be able to go to college without Matt Keller giving you that horrific pick up line. Which means, no awkward flirting and courting that is.” 

“Oh yeah?” I asked, setting the bowl of mostly corn kernels on the floor before moving to put a foot in his lap and letting him do the same with me. Well, my foot was in his lap, half his leg was in mine. The man was long. “No cheesy one-liners from you or John about how you can make my night wild?” I asked with a giggle as I began to rub his foot while he rubbed mine. 

“Sweetheart, you’ve seen our wild nights,” Simon said with a smirk. “The most wild we get is changing our sleep spots.”

“Then am I really missing out on anything?” I asked. “I mean, we kinda skipped the whole courting process. Save for being bonded and legally married, there’s not a lot of reason to use those one liners.” 

“Would you really want them anyways?” He asked.

“Not really,” I said after a moment of thought. “I’d rather have this honestly. It’s easier and feels like a more solid foundation than just courting a few weeks then bonding. At least this way, I actually get to know you and John and you get to know me. We’re not strangers just forced together because of our sex organs. . . Even if it did kind of start out that way.”

“Do you like what we have going on?” Simon asked, his fingers working my arch. “This whole situation of us together without the sex organs part?”

“I do. I mean, it helps that I don’t have heats, but I figured before this you and John. . . You know, ‘took care of each other’ for that stuff,” I said, looking down at Simon’s foot as my cheeks heated up a bit. 

“Now what do you mean by that?” Simon asked, snickering as he tickled the sole of my foot a moment. I nearly kicked him in the face as I gasped and glared. 

“Do NOT do that, Simon Riley,” I snapped, jerking my foot back hard. “You know I’m ticklish as hell on my feet! And you know what I mean.”

“I’m going to need you to explain this one to me,” Simon said, giving me a devilish smirk, letting me settle my leg before going back to rubbing my foot. For as serious as he could be sometimes, Simon was a bit of a teaser that would always get me when I wasn’t expecting it.

“You’re seriously making me do this?” I asked with a huff as he wiggled his foot in my hand. “Fine. I assumed before I moved in that you and John. . . Did stuff. . .”

“Like?” Simon asked, egging me on. 

“Like sex, okay?” I grunted, rolling my eyes. “I figured you two had sex with each other before this.”

“Was that so hard?” He asked with a grin. “And yes, for the record we did. Still do when you’re busy with something and we’re alone.”

“What!?” I cried. “How!?”

“Well, when one Alpha and another Alpha love each other VERY much-”

“Oh shut up, I know how sex works,” I said, slapping his calf playfully. “I meant how are you having sex and I’m not noticing?”

“You are surprisingly good at focusing on chores and don’t seem to question us spending a lot of time in the barn with the horses,” Simon said with a chuckle. 

I sat there in stunned silence as Simon grinned at me. It took a moment for me to soak in the realization of how dopey I felt that I had missed that giant indicator. It all added up and I was none the wiser till Simon had to spell it out for me. 

“In case you’re wondering, we made sure that we could work around you till you were ready or if you’d ever be ready,” Simon said, his fingers digging into the ball of my foot to get my attention. 

“Ready? For what?” I asked, suddenly finding myself lost and flustered. 

“You really don’t know how to flirt or have a conversation about this stuff, do you?” He asked as I kept staring at him with a slight frown. 

“About sex? Absolutely not, I was lucky I learned anything from sex ed in school. . . and that’s not what you’re talking about,” I said, groaning as Simon laughed at me finally catching up. “Look, I’m not on the up and up about sex and romance, give me a break.”

“Alright, alright. I’ll be nice,” Simon said with a hum. “But as I was saying, we were working around you. We didn’t want to force anything or make you uncomfortable. That didn’t mean we were going to go celibate though.”

“Understandable, if not reminding me how oblivious I can be sometimes,” I said with a nod. 

“No problem,” Simon said with a hum. “But now I’m curious, have you ever had sex or fooled around before?” He asked.

“Absolutely not,” I said with a snort. “I never understood the appeal of it the way it was shown to me. Rough and claiming, just doing it because of the excuse that it was a base instinct for everyone. I mean, I never wanted to be with someone like that. Someone that only wanted the knot and didn’t care about much else in sex. I’ve read more sex positive books about Omegas and figuring out what worked for them, but I just. . . I didn’t feel safe to experiment with anyone, let alone kiss anyone.”

“Well, if it helps, I know two Alphas who would happily volunteer to help you experiment,” Simon said, raising a brow and smirking. Oh no. Oh fuck no. That was a face of his that I could not look at without blushing because it was plain as day that he was getting ready to get cheeky with John or me. 

“I’m sure you do,” I said, clearing my throat to look away towards the TV. My hands idly kept working his foot, but Simon’s hands were being evil. They slowly slid up my calf and began pulling me towards him. I was determined to ignore him though, sitting up straight and rigid as he managed to pull me halfway into his lap after pulling his own foot away. “Can I help you, sir? I’m trying to watch TV,” I said, as he settled me with my back to his chest, keeping my gaze forward and not on Simon. 

“I just want to give my friend a hug,” he said, wrapping his arms around me, pulling me close to his bare chest. The skin to skin contact felt nice and before I realized it, I was turning my head to scent his chest as I purred. “Have you really never been kissed before?” 

“I mean, by relatives,” I said.

“I meant romantically,” Simon sighed softly, looking down and nosing at my hair. 

“Yeah,” I said, looking up at him. “Never been kissed. Most I’ve done is with you and John by sleeping in the same bed and holding hands.”

“Would you like to be kissed?” He asked. I had to think about that. It was everywhere on TV, in schools with young couples, people on dates, but I didn’t know if I wanted it. 

“What’s it like? Romantically?” I asked, moving to sit in his lap side saddle so I could see him.

“It’s like you’re closer than a hug,” he said, his thumb stroking my arm as he took a moment to think of his words. “It feels nice. It’s as if you’re connecting to the person on a deeper level. It’s hard to describe really.”

“Closer than a hug, but not as close as sex,” I said, trying to help. 

“Basically. It’s something you have to experience for yourself. I know that some of my favorite memories of me and John are us kissing. Just kissing. Nothing leading up to anything, just us curled up together like this and kissing. One time we were in line for a concert in the rain and we did our best to wait it out, but the bar closed it off because they were at capacity,” Simon said, looking at the TV as he remembered the details of that night. He had a smile on his face, a fondness of the story he was telling coming through. “We were mad because we had been in line for so long and were on a short leave between our military work, but after a minute it didn’t matter because the place was quickly shut down for being over crowded. Even if we had made it in, we would have still been kicked out. 

So, we cut our losses and ran back to the truck. We were both soaking wet and it had to be nearly freezing. After we get into the truck and I turn it on, our heavy breathing fogs up the windows so we have to wait for the heat to kick in. John said something about it being a sign, but I just blew it off. He was more cautious back then. We were. . . Hell, I think we were 23 or so when this happened. I asked him what kind of sign it was. He said it was a sign that we were supposed to be together. Apparently concerts getting canceled and freezing rain meant long love signs,” Simon chuckled.

“We got the truck going, we defrosted, so we headed out. We were probably about 10 minutes from home when the truck slid into a ditch. I was going maybe 20 miles an hour, but the curve of the road had us sliding so slowly that we just sat there holding on as we came to a stop. John said it was another sign, I said he was being stupid, but as we were about to pull back out a lorry truck came sliding past us, barely missing the truck then kept going. John and I sat there for nearly half an hour till the rain had stopped and a salt truck drove by. I managed to get us back on the road and made it home safely.”

“Where’s the kiss?” I asked, frowning. I had been waiting for that part specifically. Was it a rain drenched kiss or maybe one by the fireplace where they laid together to warm up? I was invested and needed to know. “You were telling a story about you and John kissing.”

“Was I?” Simon asked, a smirk playing on his lips. 

“You’re a horrible man,” I huffed, rolling my eyes at him. He laughed, shaking his head at me before continuing the story.

“We got home, walked inside, looked at each other for a moment before we held each other close. It was our first real date and our first real brush with death off the battlefield,” Simon said after a few beats of silence. I knew they were retired military, it wasn’t hard to figure that out after seeing dog tags and the gear they had with them. But I never asked about their time in the service or pushed about it. I thought that if they wanted to talk about it, they would. “We kissed each other when we laid in bed, holding on to one another like we might drift away. There had been kisses before, but that one. . . That was our first kiss as a couple. We were together for the first time officially and weren’t hiding it.”

“That’s really sweet,” I said, smiling at him. “It was a relief for you both, then. The kiss, that is. After everything, you could still kiss one another.”

“I guess you’re right,” Simon said, that fondness back in his face. “I kiss him good morning and goodnight every day, but those small moments are my favorite.” 

“I want that,” I said, looking forward as I rested my head on his chest. “Small moments of connection with someone. I want that.”

“That’s something that John and I can offer you, if you want it from us,” Simon said, nuzzling the top of my head. “We want to give you that. We want to be that for you.” 

It was another door to step through, a choice to make on where I wanted this relationship to go. I wanted it. I wanted them. 

Looking up, I nosed at Simon’s cheek as I moved to straddle his lap. We went slow, his arms holding me as I shook a little. Scared and excited as we just shared the same space. 

“I’ve gotcha, Sweetheart,” Simon said softly before he pressed his lips to mine. 

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[contentloadingandstuff]

Not sure if your requests are open, but could I ask for maybe Nilou Candace? Possibly Dehya as well with the smut ask you recently did?

Anonim asked:

NSFW headcanons for Ei, Sara, and Miko?

NSFW Headcanons - Candace & Nilou

A/N: Hello to you, Anons. I decided to split the characters into two posts - the one you see now for Hydro girls, and a future one for Dehya and Sara. Also - here are Miko headcanons and here are Ei headcanons. Hope you enjoy!

NSFW under the cut.

Candace

Keeping Aaru village safe is tough work - especially defending it from hostiles. It's time consuming, messy and troublesome. You, being the caring lover you are, helped her with that part. Candace had no trouble leaving that to you, but don't think she doesn't appreciate what you do. Quite the contrary, in fact.

Candace always leaned toward the traditional role in your relationship. Since a new Vision holder entered the scope, she doesn't have to be the one to fight anymore. Candace would much prefer for you to be the warrior, while she stays behind and cares for both her husband and her home in other ways.

And she knows just what you need.

Candace loves being seen as the reward. The thought of being the one keeping you fighting makes her both happy and horny.

She loves acts of service, whatever form they may take.

So once you get home, expect to have the best wine and fresh juice at hand as Candace kneels between your legs, head bobbing up and down.

She wants to show you just how grateful she is for everything you do for her and the village, and her tongue, tits and slit are the perfect tools to do so.

While you lay back, Candace will go to town on your cock. It will be sloppy. Her saliva will be all over your crotch as she worships every millimeter of your dick, head to base. You don't even have to move a muscle - Candace will throat you until she gags herself.

She will use her mouth until you cum. Don't expect her to waste a single drop of your seed.

While your milk is nice and secure inside her belly, she'll entertain you until you're ready to go again.

Her favorite way to pass that time is to climb on top of your face and let you eat her out. And what man could refuse a taste of a nice, tanned, wet and willing pussy?

Candace likes to keep a cute, trimmed bush of dark-blue pubes right above her clit. As for you, she'll take a hairy cock any day. The hair is a natural part of every man, and she enjoys when you embrace that.

If she picks a different way, you can be sure your balls will get involved to some degree. Candace will either suck them or give you a nice and gentle massage. She knows just how amazing having your nuts lightly squeezed or rolled around in her fingers feels.

When you inevitable get rock-hard again, your woman will climb on top of you and serve you the main course.

You'll get to enjoy her wet hole at a moderate pace. She'll accommodate your needs for more or less speed any time.

The best position is cowgirl, she finds. You either get to enjoy her stunning features and big boobs or nice, squeezable ass. She'll encourage you to give a good slap or two to her cheeks. A little pain keeps the play exciting.

If you pick reverse, she'll also rub her clit on your thigh to chase a connected orgasm. And when she reaches it? Man are the sounds she makes and how her pussy clenches around you amazing.

Speaking of her body, it's a close ideal of beauty. Wide hips, a muscular but soft stomach, thick thighs, round and plump ass and a pair of amazing mammaries. She really has been blessed by the patron deity of females.

Enjoy when you prove it to her by worshiping her dry, with your lips around her nipples and a hand between her legs.

She would really like for you to cum inside every time, but alas - it bears consequences. Go for her mouth instead, and she'll leave no drop of your gift outside of her. It's just so warm and salty and delicious.

When you'll be ready for a child, Candace will take you to a special, hidden spot in the desert she prepared beforehand. You'll light some incense, make an offering of food and raise a prayer to the goddess of fertility. After that intro, expect a long, slow, romantic breeding session. She'll have you do that at least once a week before she's 100% carrying your heir.

"Ah, you're back home my love. Come to me when you're ready. I wanted to... thank you for your efforts."

Nilou

She always wanted to be in a relationship. Nilou dreamt of a person whose even the slightest actions would leave her breathless and flustered. She envisioned a person who would sing and dance with her, take her to amazing places and feed her wonderful, home cooked meals every day. Now that she's found someone like that, Nilou will surely become the happiest woman of Teyvat!

Your sex life can be only described as wholesome, just like your girl.

Whenever she feels safe and happy, which is quite often, she'll lead you to bed. It's like a reflex for her, a natural desire to be even closer to you.

Aside from dancing, making love with you is her favorite hobby. It makes her feel all weak and giddy whenever she lies to you after an amazing orgasm.

She knows the importance of foreplay and prep time very well. Nilou feels like everybody forgets that you, as a guy, need some encouragement as well. And by that she understands not just getting you hard, but making you completely dehydrated.

Her go-to way to do this is to dance for you. She loves doing it, not only with clothes on. Her movements are smooth and well trained, and the way her titties jiggle adds a lot to the eye-feast she provides.

Nilou's body is not ideal. She's a little insecure about that, in fact. She has no thick, meaty thighs, not very wide hips, a flat backside and breasts too small to let you really feel them. Her small stature and the lack of muscles makes her body quite small and fragile, not allowing for hard or rough dicking. It would only leave her sore and bruised, which she doesn't enjoy.

In fact, Nilou doesn't like pain at all. Every pain, except the lovely type when you stretch her entrance or poke at her womb, spoils the happy atmosphere. She'll love it if you keep it all pleasurable.

Speaking of dislikes, she has plenty of them.

A fast pace is a no-no for her, as she likes to feel every thrust in its full glory, from the tip of your head down to your base. Her body is not very durable, so it would likely leave her achy for days. And that type of ache makes dancing hard - not only because the memory leaves her too flustered to practice!

She doesn't like oral a lot, as well. Especially when it comes to receiving it. Nilou's always afraid she tastes awful, or some unexpected health problem makes licking her dangerous.

A real shame, since her pussy is adorable! The outer lips completely cover the inner, yet her clit remains exposed. The entire thing is of a cute, natural pink color as well. A tuft of red hair she keeps trimmed just makes it more tempting to dive right in. If you assure her it's safe and fun for you, Nilou will agree. Maybe you'll even make her like oral, who knows.

Giving oral is okay by her, but she'll want to keep your dick in her mouth or on her lips. Her gag reflex makes throating you a messy nightmare for Nilou. Also, swallowing is another thing she doesn't enjoy. She’ll gladly have you explode on her stomach though.

Anal is a no-go, as it hurts Nilou quite badly. Her sphincter is very tight, and it doesn't feel great when you try to force it open. And she wouldn't want you in a place so nasty anyway.

As you can see, Nilou is... not that great at this whole sex thing. But she tries!

Nilou is aware of the limits she puts on variety, so she'll do her best to make it up to you!

Positions are her main way of doing it. Dancing made her very flexible, and she wants to use that to its full advantage. Any position involving spreading her legs, like a modified lotus or split cowgirl, or bending her back, like the bridge, magnifies the pleasure for Nilou.

Toys, and lots of toys. Nilou wants to keep things as fresh as possible, so expect a new toy every week or two. It'll be everything from remote vibes and buttplugs for her, and prostate massagers or fleshlights for you. She'll eagerly arrange longer play sessions when you just try out all of this equipment on yourselves.

Edging will be necessary, however. Poor Nilou can't take a whole lot of pleasure, and cums easily. She is one of those that get really sleepy after an orgasm. In her, the desire to just snuggle up to you and pass out is stronger than any level of horniness.

One of the best things in Nilou's opinion is making her dance with a vibe inside her. Bonus points if it's remote control. Nilou will laugh along with you when the pleasure becomes too much and her thighs start to tremble.

The noises she makes are a mix of laughter and squealing. Even if she's been edged mercilessly for a long time, she'll chuckle all the same.

Hand holding is a huge thing for your girl. It makes her feel so warm and loved. With that in mind, her favorite positions allow just for that, with some stretching on the side.

She doesn't have an amazing body, but she'll work with what she has. Lingerie will be a common sight in the bedroom.

Please assure her she's beautiful and you love her as she is, poor girl is so insecure :(

Whenever she feels ready (or especially adventurous), she'll get you to help lube her up good and gently put a buttplug inside her. The sex afterwards makes her see stars.

"Come on! Let's have some fun, my love!"

Thanks for reading!

[thecreaturecodex]

What's your options on bugbears in Golorian being all serial killers or atleast obsessed with fear? I think that has room for, improvement. Definitely feels weird for them though.

I love it.

It's one of my favorite lore changes between D&D and Pathfinder. It makes bugbears feel less like "goblin, but giant". And Paizo has made it clear that some goblins mutate and just grow to Medium size, so you can have giant goblins if you want 'em.

@monstersdownthepath suggested that bugbears have a demonic taint to them. Despite their CE nature, I'd suggest sahkils instead. Bugbears are the Fear of Marauders, of Banditry, of Murder. Only they're mortal. But I bet a lot of their souls end up in Xilbaba when they die.

I imagine that small groups of bugbears are somewhere between bandit gangs and terrorist cells, roaming around and striking for maximum psychological impact as much as to get material goods. Larger communities would be like Halloweentown, only much less friendly. With running competitions for "most blood drained in a single evening". And adopting more terrible monsters into their numbers as Honorary Bugbears. Life's no fun without a good scare! If the Thing Hiding Under Your Stairs and The Shadow on the Moon At Night really wanted to kill you, and then looted your supplies and took over your village until the well runs dry or next year's crop doesn't plant itself. That's a bugbear clan.

I also love the implication in Ironfang Invasion, through characters like Scarvinious and Scabvistin (great naming convention too, IMO), that some, but not all, bugbears are envious of hobgoblins. They like the idea of civilization, of order and rigidity. And so they enlist. And because of their strength and power, they can succeed. If they "beat the bear" out, in Scabvistin's words.

So if you want to give bugbears another hook, here's my alternate, but not necessarily incompatible take. They're brood parasites. Because what's scarier than a baby that's not yours taking over your life?

We know that in Pathfinder canon, goblins and hobgoblins are both communal breeders (thanks to nursery locations in both Rise of the Runelords and Jade Regent). A mother bugbear sneaks into a goblin creche and leaves her baby behind, after killing one of the young and either eating it themselves or feeding it to Junior. The somewhat addlepated and mutation-prone goblins won't notice or mind a slightly hairier infant, right? And then the bugbear baby takes more than its fair share of resources, maybe knocks off a few of the other kids, and then either leaves the goblin colony at a young age in order to find more bugbears, or stays and muscles his way into a leadership position.

Doing the same to a hobgoblin community is riskier. The hobgoblins are much more in tune and observant. But in this case, it becomes more of a mutualistic relationship that could tip into parasitism on either end. Maybe the bugbear can get along in the hobgoblin village by learning discipline, or be content with the role of scavenger or brute. Or the bugbear could try to take over, if the hobgoblins are weak. And if the bugbear doesn't have the resources to survive and thrive, the hobgoblins send them off on a suicide mission.

And even though they only rely on other goblinoids for raising their young...most of the time, there are rumors that they do this to other peoples. Even if it happens once in a hundred years, everyone will know the story of how the Munson boy got very hairy and very big very quickly, and then slaughtered and spit-roasted the family dog when he was only 4? That kind of fear keeps the bugbears powerful. And makes the bugbears very happy.

[mirroredmemoriez]

Werewolves designs and other shit

Got bored- Remembered I have free choice to make posts on anything I want... So here I am with opinions no one asked for. As the title suggests, it's about werewolves. Starting off, I don't believe I need to explain what a werewolf is. However, I'll put it out there that in most descriptions and depictions it's meant to be a humanoid wolf. I say this because you'll find that in some movies or books it's just a person turning into a giant wolf with no human features or movement such as standing on two legs. (Or like a minotaur situation where the body is a human, but the head is a wolf.)

Here I've collected just human references and anatomy- This is so I can make comparisons and such. Humans vary heavily in the way that we look, due to things such as lifestyle and genetics. At base level, of course we're HUMAN. However, things like our body types, hair texture, eye colour or shape and yada yada all can change the way we look and create differences between us and somebody else.

This is the same for wolves, though maybe not as noticeable compared to humans? Mostly things like their size, coat colour or thickness and etc is what separates them from one another. Looking at their head shapes also can show what species they may be. Generally, they're a pretty lean animal seeing as wolves are known for their running endurance to hunt prey. Being too big would slow them down... I mention this because some depictions of werewolves people make them too muscular in my opinion? It's like they're hairy body builders. Speaking of werewolves- Let me try draw this post back to where I started it! First I wanna look at almost shifted werewolves, so not fully transformed.

(Also I will be using depictions and characters which aren't labelled necessarily as a ''werewolf'' but share many features or similarities. For example, Bigby from The Wolf Among Us.) The common things we usually see is an increase in hairiness, canine growth and eyes becoming highlighted- Usually yellow, though sometimes the werewolf maintains their natural eye colour. We also have ears becoming pointed and the area around the eyebrows and forehead starting to protrude more. All of these things when done right I enjoy in a werewolf design! Though, it's a given that some do it better than others... One of my favourite werewolf designs and transformations has to go to the movie An American Werewolf In London.

This to me is one of the PEAKS of werewolves in media. I could probably make a full post on just this movie... It's one of the most iconic designs and for good reason. Not to mention, I love practical effects, especially in horror. One of my dreams is to make a movie with them. Enough gushing though. What do I like? Well, it's grotesque nature really. A transformation shouldn't just be BAM you're a ball of fur in my eyes. The amount of change is crazy and so glossed over.

The transformation literally has bones extending along with all the muscles and tissues alongside. Don't even get me started on what the organs may have to be doing? A human heart could not support a werewolf body, it just wouldn't be big enough... That muscle would literally have to increase in size to be able to deal with the power behind the body of a wolf. Yes, I'm aware they're supernatural and I shouldn't try heavily to apply science to them... However, I don't care? A TRANSFORMATION WOULD BE HORRFIC AND PAINFUL, SO IT SHOULD BE SHOWN AS SUCH! It's also why I headcanon that turned werewolves have the chance of just dying straight up with their first transformation, compared to ones just born as a werewolf because of how extreme the change is. Anyway! Some more designs.

I think what some suffer from, is leaning either too close to a human and or leaning too close to a wolf? They can't find a balance and at times it's like a worse rendition of the Cats movie.

Like here, the werewolves from The Quarry almost lean into some classic vampire depictions. The teeth I like! But the lack of hair and flatter snout just means it's not really screaming WEREWOLF at me.. More so a general mutant. (QUICK ADD! A flatter snout doesn't always break a design. It's just when other features such as hair are also lacking that it starts becoming less wolf in nature to me.) We've also got a more recent werewolf to look at... Which is Enid from the Wednesday show. Because fucking hell, that was a disappointment? She ended up looking like a mix between the Ice Age baby and Diego the saber tooth tiger.

They did her so fucking dirty... And it would actually be very simple to fix! This could be salvaged- It just wasn't. Somebody saw that design and green lit it and whoever you are, why? I think I'll end this here now because I've reached the image limit... If anyone has any questions about certain things I've mentioned, feel free. I also want to state that this is pure opinion and by no means supposed to spread hate towards anything? It's your world, if you wanna draw your werewolves like the Sims 4, who am I to stop you? THIS IS MAL OUT! AND IF YOU'VE READ ALL OF THIS YOU'RE SOMEHOW MORE UNHINGED THAN I AM CURRENTLY. (I MAY MAKE A PT 2 AS I DO HAVE MORE THOUGHTS AND MENTIONS TO MAKE.)