#I only need the size of the smaller one but it can't hurt to get one that's a lil bigger for when I need it

[wannabe-skinni-qween]

TW!! 111 harsh wl quotes

nothing tastes as good as skinny feels

eat for the body you want, not the body you have

it may be a difficult process, but quitting won't speed it up

fat lasts longer than flavour

a moment on the lips, a lifetime on the hips

stop rewarding yourself with food, you're not a dog

30 minute workout, or 30 extra pounds?

whatever your problem may be, the answer is not in the fridge

you can't out exercise a bad diet

an imperfect body reflects and imperfect person

hungry to bed, hungry to rise, makes a girl a smaller size

what you eat in private, you wear in public

suck it up and one day you wont have to suck it in

you get what you work for, not what you wish for

it's better to resist than to regret

if you eat what you've always eaten, you'll weigh what you've always weighed

eat wise to drop a size

junk food you've craved for an hour, or the body you've craved for a lifetime?

every time you feel like giving up, remember why you started

every taste adds to the waist

this month's choices are next month's body

don't stop when it hurts, stop when you're done

summer bodies are made in the winter

if you're tired of starting over, stop giving up

in two weeks you'll feel it. in four weeks you'll see it. in eight weeks you'll hear it

just because you don't read food labels doesn't mean the calories don't exist

if you don't see the calories on the label, you'll see them later on your hips

every time you say "fuck it, i don't care" and eat that cookie, there's a 100% chance you'll care later

your stomach isn't growling, it's applauding

don't stop until you're proud

someone busier than you is running right now

when you lose all excuses, you'll find results

one day or day one

use food as fuel, not therapy

if you can't handle the fat jokes, lose the weight

overeating is always a decision, nobody forces the food into your mouth

suffer the pain of discipline, or suffer the pain of regret

follow your plan, not your mood

do what is right, not what is easy

you can't expect to succeed if you only put in work on the days you feel like it

i'm not starving, i'm perfecting my emptiness

not eating light makes your clothes tight

sacrifice is giving up something good for something better

if it was easy, everybody would be thin

craving is only a feeling

skip dinner, wake up thinner

the difference between want and need is self control

a cat says "meow meow" a dog says "woof woof" a pig says "i'll start tomorrow"

it's easier to workout than to wake up every morning and not like what you see

hunger hurts, but starving works

don't give up what you want the most for what you want in the moment

you've come too far in life to take orders from a cookie

thin is beautiful, even thinner is perfection

a month from now you can either have a month's worth of progress or a month's worth of excuses why you didn't

if you can pinch it, you can lose it

eat to live, don't live to eat

you can never be too rich or too thin

perfection is reached not where there isn't anything to add, but when there isn't anything to take away

respect yourself, put down the fork

when you resist the pain of hungry, it means you're not a slave to your body

every time you say no to food, you say yes to thin

empty is pure, starving is the eure

it's the mind that makes the body

there is no try, there is only DO

pain is temporary, pride is forever

thinner is the winner

if you don't fight for the body you want, don't cry for the body you have

imagine having one life on this earth and you spend it as a fat fuck

would you rather be at the gym covered in sweat, or at the beach covered in clothes?

until you're being accused of having an ed, you have a couple more pounds to lose

"i'm so fat" you say, taking another bite

eating won't kill you, but not eating will make you thin

aren't you tired of making the same excuses over and over again?

i don't even think you need to wear oversized clothes, your amount of body fat is oversizing you enough

you'd look so much prettier 20 pounds lighter

you don't want to embarrass him do you? then lose weight

you already know what it tastes like, so why eat it again?

you're fat. i'd sugarcoat it but then you'd eat that too

you binged? that's ok! somebody has to be the fat friend

if you have a skinny friend just remember, they probably use you as fatspo

skinny privilege is real

your morning skinny is someone else's evening bloat

if you can find the time to eat, you can find the time to workout

food is made to provide you with energy, not to fucking entertain you

if you treat food like an addiction, you're destined to fail

junk food is not a reward, it's a punishment

work out for 1 hour and feel amazing for the next 23 hours

if you're tired of starting over, stop giving up

if you want it, work for it

somebody else's starting weight is your goal weight

stop being jealous of her body and start doing something about yours

the fact that you aren't where you want to be should be motivation enough

it's all fun and games until your jeans don't fit anymore

need motivation? just sit infront of the mirror naked

making excuses burns zero calories

don't let the weekend become your weak end

three months from now you will thank yourself

imagine the weight you are losing is going to the person you hate

do not use your stomach as a trash can

you are what you eat. eat shit. feel shit look shit. or, eat good. feel good. look good

make it happen girl, shock everyone

so you can sit down and still have a flat stomach

losing weight is hard. being fat is hard. choose your hard

no matter how many mistakes you make or how slow you progress, you're still way ahead of everyone who isn't trying

a little progress each day adds up to big results

if not now, then when?

you are what you eat, so don't be cheap, fast, easy or fake

look down at your plate and ask, "is this going to make me feel good?"

i am powerful enough to resist temptations

you're not hungry, you're just bored

look in the mirror. that's your competition

this took a long time so please enjoy xx

[runa-falls]

size kink with miguel 👀

yes, nonnie, of course.

edit: bro, i'm sorry, this got away from me...

cw: smut (18+), size kink, somnophilia, oral (m-recieving), dry (wet?) humping, the big stretch™️, crying ;-;, finger riding, teasing/edging, free-use (miguel hehe), piv, tummy bulge, overstimulation, cockwarming, uhhh i think that's it???

miguel is so big, he could only slide against your pussy during the first few months of dating you 😵‍💫

you're barely able to take him into your mouth, let alone down your throat, but you still try your best, giving him sweet licks against the sensitive head and sucking him in with a soft moan.

he loves watching you. how everything about you is smaller -- and not because you're smaller, but bc he's just insanely big.

he needed to be the one to stop you from fucking him the first time. you were so desperate to get him inside of you, convincing him with breathy whines that you can take it, you'll be good for him + stretch out as much as he needed.

though he thoroughly prepped you, he could barely push himself into you and as soon as his tip breached your entrance, you cried out and he could barely move.

he had to grit his teeth when he felt how hot and tight you were, almost losing control when you fluttered around him from the intensity of stretch. he slowly pulled out with a heavy groan, eyes blazing red and claws ripping into the mattress next to your head.

he let you pout, whine, and beg for him to try again, but he wouldn't give in. he was too scared of hurting you.

you mewled and writhed in his arms, whining about how you crave being stretched and filled. the only way he could sate you was by plunging two fingers into your cunt, rubbing relentlessly against your g-spot until you're shaking in his hold.

of course, he makes up for his refusal to fuck you.

miguel is a sweet boyfriend: he'll let you grind your naked body over him at any time of the day until you're seeing white and cumming against him, completely soaking his sweatpants as tears spill from your eyes.

he lets you tease him as much as you want, sliding your dripping pussy over his cock until he's unbearably hard and spurting precum all over himself.

he even lets you ride his fingers, letting you take his arm away from whatever he's working on so you can comfortably roll your hips over him and grind your clit against the palm of his hand.

when he finally does fuck you, it's impossible to get him away from you (not that you mind). miguel is mesmerized by how well your smaller body can take him. how you squeeze around him so sweetly, gushing and trembling as he moves against you.

he loves seeing the outline of cock pressing against your tummy, how he can literally see himself move into you as your body struggles to make enough room. he pushes down on it and you get infinitely tighter. his scarlet eyes stares up at your euphoric expression, pretty lips shaped into an O for him as your eyes roll back with pleasure.

miguel, as spider-man, has no refractory period. usually, he'd stop after two or three rounds, but now that he's felt your molten heat over him, the way you shudder around his cock when you cum, he can't get enough.

even when you're filled to the brim with his cum, he still hard inside of you, fucking you harshly until you're dripping everything onto the sheets below you.

<cw: somnophilia>

sometimes you're so exhausted, so delirious with pleasure, that you pass out while he's still rutting into you. the first time it happened he freaked out a little, hoping he didn't push you to far. once you gave him the green light to continue, so turned on by the fact he can fuck you to sleep, he doesn't hesitate to take you all the way.

you regularly wake up with a pleasant soreness between your legs. miguel makes sure to show you extra soft loving in the mornings, cooing about how sweet and pliable you were the night before. sometimes you wake up and he's still inside of you, face cutely nuzzled against the back of your neck.

UM ANYWAY-- 🫠👀

[blacksails2017]

can’t decide between two hiking backpacks im going to kms

[gor3-hound]

sweet creature

ft. leon kennedy x fem!reader

cw: 18+ content, mild dub-con, wolf!leon, bunny!reader, predator/prey, chasing, brief blood mention, praise, biting, sliiight dacryphilia, scent kink, breeding kink, knotting, p in v, creampie, oral(f!recieving), fingering, like one threat and mention of eating reader lmao

a/n: hiii! wolf x bunny fic as promised :) gonna be so real idek if i really like this or hate it LMAOOO my brain is so fuzzy from uni coursework and i have an exam tomorrow but the writing vibe hit so here we are!! as always, hope you enjoy <3

word count: 2.4k words

The weather had been awful the past couple of days, forcing you to retreat to your burrow. Your food sources are running low, making you resort to scavenge as soon as the storm clears slightly. It's a bit later than you'd usually venture out, but you really needed to find something to tide you over.

The rain is still falling, but not as heavily as it has been. It still has you shivering softly as you explore the forest, gathering what you could. The weather wasn't great for foraging - your sense of smell was dampened by the rain, and the darkness made it hard to see. At least you'd have some food for another few days. Hopefully the weather would clear up by the time you needed more food.

You're just about to head back when you hear a branch break behind you. Your head snaps back, your floppy ears perking up instantly as you listen for any more noises. You catch sight of movement, and then you catch a whiff of an unmistakable scent.

A wolf.

Your basket falls from your hands as your heart starts racing in fear, eyes trained on the grouping of trees as a low growling noise sounds. As soon as the wolf moves towards you, you dart off as fast as your legs will take you, weaving through trees and bushes to try and escape him.

You can hear him hot on your tail, which only makes you want to run faster. Your lungs burn from exertion, tears stinging your eyes as fear runs through you. You just need to lose him and reach your burrow, if you just turned in a few feet, you could use your smaller size to weave through the low branches and get away.

You're too late.

You sob as soon as you feel arms wrapping around your waist, lifting you off the ground and tugging you against a firm, muscular body. You begin to struggle instantly, clawing at his arms and kicking your feet out.

“Shh, shh.” A deep voice whispers, rumbling the chest behind you. “It's alright, little one.”

You feel a nose brushing against the skin at the side of your neck as the wolf inhales deeply. You tremble in his grasp, but you stop struggling when you realise it's not getting you anywhere.

“Please. I just want to go home.” You say quietly, your voice shaking as you speak, tears streaming down your face steadily.

“You can. I won't hurt you.” He promises, his wet tongue sliding out of his mouth to lick your neck a few times. You can't tell if he's trying to comfort you, or taste you.

“I was going to eat you.” He continues, grip tightening on you as if he sensed that would make you panic all over again. “But you smell too fucking good. And you're so damn cute. Sweetest bunny I've ever seen.”

He has you pressed so tight against your body that you can feel him hardening against your ass, his nose still buried in the crook of your neck. His lips curl back and he lets his teeth brush your neck threateningly.

“I promise I'll be good to you.” He coos, setting your feet down but keeping a tight hold on you. One of his hands slides up to your jaw, tilting your head back to look at him. “I just want to play with you a little bit.”

He grins as he makes eye contact with you, his sharp canines on full display and glistening, even in the dark of the night. “What's your name, bunny?”

Your name comes out in the form of a pathetic squeak, your entire body trembling in his grasp. Your heart races fast as adrenaline pumps through your body. You open your mouth again, your lips quivering as you go to speak. “Please, just let me go.”

“Let you go? Of course.” He says instantly, giving you a smile that would seem sweet if it wasn't for the predatory glint in his eyes. “But don't I deserve a reward for winning my prey? It wasn't very nice of you to run from me, little one.”

You sniffle softly, your face crumbling slightly when you realise he's not letting you go unless you give him what he wants. Your nose twitches slightly, your ears drooping at his words. “I'm sorry.”

“Oh, that's okay, sweet girl. You didn't mean it. It's natural for a bunny like you to be afraid of the big, bad wolf.” He says with a chuckle, leaning down to run his nose along your cheek.

“If you listen to me, I'll be gentle.” He coos, licking a stripe up your cheek, groaning at the salty taste of your tears.

“If you don't… well, I'll sink my teeth into the back of that pretty neck of yours and take what I want.” He growls, the expression on his face darkening. “We don't want that, do we?”

You shake your head quickly, a full body shiver running through you. He slowly releases you, and you fight every instinct in your body to run. It's clearly the right choice, because his expression softens again and his chest rumbles with a gentle growl.

“There we go. Knew you'd be good for me, sweet girl.” He breathes out as he brushes your hair away from your face, his touch far too tender considering the situation.

He leans in, pressing his lips to yours. One of his hands moves to your floppy ears, playing gently with it. He kisses you gently at first before his lips are trying to pry yours open, using the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth.

You let your eyes shut, kissing him back. As the two of your tongues slip together, you accidentally brush one of his large, sharp teeth. Your heart jumps, but this time you're not sure if it's fear or something else, because your panties are becoming damp and sticky with arousal.

Your fingers twitch, and then your hands are moving on their own, planting themselves firmly on his hips. He growls softly into your mouth, teeth nipping at your lower lip before he pulls away, pawing at your tits through the fabric of your clothes as he sucks on your neck.

You whimper softly, your head falling back on its own to give him better access. His hands start wandering, and then he's tugging off your clothes, ripping them in the process. The cold air hits your skin, making goosebumps prickle your flesh. You shudder, and he tugs you closer to him, letting his body heat seep into your body.

What a gentleman.

“How the fuck do you smell so good?” He groans, his nose trailing down your body - over the curve of your breast, then down the soft skin of your stomach before he's burying it between your folds, kneeling at your feet.

He doesn't do much for a moment. He just worms his way between your legs and then just starts sniffing, moaning softly as he does so. The tip of his nose bumps against your clit, and your hips instantly buck towards his face.

“That's it. Good girl. Knew you'd like it, honey.” He hums against your pussy, the vibrations sending waves of pleasure through you. You'd be embarrassed by how sensitive you were from this whole ordeal if he didn't stick his tongue out and start lapping at you like he was starving, malfunctioning the part of your brain that helps you form coherent thoughts.

“Oh-” You gasp, your cotton tail twitching as his tongue dips into your hole, wriggling its way inside. He looks up at you from over his brow as best he can, pulling away occasionally to suckle your clit.

“P-please, mister. S'good, oh god, need more… need you, fuck-” He pulls back at your last word, giving your pussy a harsh spank that has you jolting.

“Call me Leon, baby.” He says, rubbing circles into your clit before spreading your lips to give you a smack directly on it. “And pretty bunnies shouldn't use such bad words.” He adds, a teasing glint in his eyes.

Leon dives right back into your pussy, happily drinking up any slick that spills out of you while making the most obscene slurping sounds. One of his hands make their way to your entrance, two fingers pressing in with very little resistance due to how wet you are.

You still feel the burn, though. A small whimper falls from your lips as he starts to scissor you open, pressing sweet, open mouthed kisses to your clit to try and get you to stop tensing.

“C'mon, little one. Relax for me. I'm gonna be a lot more of a stretch than any of those bunny boys you've been with. Don't wanna hurt you when I pop my knot in this drippy pussy.” He says with a grin, nipping at the skin of your thighs.

You nod slowly, forcing yourself to relax. He murmurs words of praise and encouragement, flicking your clit with his tongue to ease the feeling. He forces a third finger inside, and your face scrunches up at the stretch. He sucks your clit back into his mouth to distract you, applying suction and flicking his tongue against it.

As soon as he curls his fingers, you're cumming all over his hand and his face, your juices dribbling down his chin. He slips his fingers out with a laugh, spreading them to watch as the strings of fluid cling to his fingers.

“Such a messy girl.” He says, clicking his tongue with mock disapproval. He licks his fingers clean, standing up and tilting your face up by the chin. He uses a thumb to pry open your mouth, and then he's spitting a mixture of your cum and his saliva onto your tongue.

“Swallow for me… that's it. Atta girl.” He hums, reaching down to slip his cock free from his trousers. “Be a good girl and put that ass in the air, baby. Gonna mount this pretty pussy.”

He waits for you to comply, dropping on his knees behind you and spreading your legs further apart. He presses his hand on the small of your back to get you to arch it more, sighing with satisfaction as the tilt of your body exposes you to him even more.

“Fuck. You really are a good girl.” He murmurs, pressing the tip of his cock into you. You let out a loud gasp at the feeling, your thighs trembling as he stretches you further than you've ever felt before. Tears spring at your eyes as he continues to press forward, his cock so fat that you're sure he's going to split you in half.

“It's okay, pretty girl. I've got you.” He says softly, rubbing a hand up and down your back to relax you as he continues to press forward, stilling when he's finally buried to the hilt. “I'm gonna stay riiiiight here, and you can move those little hips of yours when you're ready.”

You nod, cushioning your head with your arms so you don't have to press your face into the muddy ground. At least the rain has finally stopped, and you're not so worried about the cold anymore when every inch of your body is on fire.

After a minute or so you experimentally shift forward before rocking your hips back onto Leon's length. You hear him growl softly, his claws digging into your thighs and drawing blood. It stings slightly, but you're willing to ignore it.

“Leon…” You start, sniffling a little as you shift your hips again, fucking yourself back onto his cock. It feels good, but it's not enough. You know he can give you what you need. “Need more, please.”

“Oh, yeah? Is that right?” You can practically hear the grin on his face, but you don't care. You nod quickly, keeping up your movements. You yelp as you're suddenly yanked back onto his cock fully.

Your cunt sucks him in greedily, fluttering around him as he starts to thrust into you. His hips smack your ass aggressively, heavy balls slapping against your clit every time he jerks forward. He doesn't let up, pounding relentlessly into your heat, mouthing along your back and sinking his teeth into you a few times.

He licks up the blood from each bite mark he makes along your back and neck, grunting and growling as he fucks you. His thrusts get more erratic, and he feels himself getting lost in the feeling of your perfect pussy.

“Fuck, bunny. I'm gonna keep you, no way I can let you go after this. Pussy's too fuckin’ good, shit. Wanna breed you so bad. Would you like that pretty girl?”

He groans, the thought of filling you up with his cum making his cock jump eagerly. He thrusts deeper, shifting his hips so he's bullying your cervix with every movement.

“Ohhhh, bet you'd like that… being filled with my pups… fuck, or kits. Don't even care, baby. Just wanna fill that pretty womb up. Cunt's practically milking me, think you want my babies as bad as I do.”

You can barely speak, babbling incoherently. All he can really make out is a few ‘please's or ‘Leon's sprinkled throughout. He can feel how you tense around him, and he knows he's about to fuck another orgasm out of you.

“That's it, baby. Good girl. Give me one more, and I'll fill you up, yeah? Get you swollen with my puppies. Fuck, you'd be such a good mommy… sweet girl. I'll take such good care of you.” He groans, dropping his head between your shoulder blades as his thrusts become sloppy and shallow while he tries not to cum.

You cum so hard you almost push him out, so he's quick to grab your waist and force himself balls deep into you, his knot popping in as he begins to shoot ropes of thick, white cum deep into you. It keeps going, and he grinds against you as he rides out his high, grunting softly when the final spurt fills you up.

His arms wrap around your waist and he lies on his back, ignoring the way mud coats his clothes and the fur of his tail. He wanted you comfortable.

“Gonna be a while before this deflates, bunny.” He says softly, nuzzling into the crook of your neck and licking the skin there in an affectionate manner. “Then I'm gonna take you back to mine and do it again. Make sure it takes.”

You just nod lazily, eyes already half closing.

Yeah. That doesn't sound so bad.

[nonotnolan]

Rush Week

You develop a special sort of bond with a guy when you've swapped bodies and you're touching each other's dick. It's the justification that Sigma Epsilon Chi gave for their partnership with Cuerpo Inc. during rush week, and I had to admit it makes sense. More to the point, Sig-Ep is THE frat to be in, so I knew I was going to do whatever it took to become a member, hazing be damned.

My face has never been much to look at-- my ears have always been huge, my hair is hopelessly curly, and I think my features are more rugged than handsome. I certainly don't have legacy money or family connections. I pledged with the hope that my muscles or my vibes would get me a ticket in, and I was so relieved to get that offer letter.

They said the house would swap bodies at random for the weekend, but I know that the machinery they use allows you to specify certain swaps and randomize others. I was convinced one of the upperclassmen will be taking my body while I ended up in some twig body for maximum embarrassment... and I wasn't wrong.

Henry is... he's a good guy, honestly. His parents are loaded and he can eat damn near anything and it doesn't affect his figure. I've never been fashion forward, so having access to his closet has been wild. The guy actually owns a sewing machine! He's also one of those guys who is never seen without product in his hair-- he actually left me instructions on how to take care of it. I can only imagine what he's gonna do in my low maintenance body-- all I own are tank tops and gym shirts. I'm half-expecting to come back to a new wardrobe and a manicure. But holy hell, the dude is thin and lanky in ways I didn't think was possible. I hope he enjoys having some actual meat on his bones.

The biggest thing is that Henry is gay. Which, you know, that's totally cool by me! More chicks for the rest of us. But once I was put into his body, seeing all of my fellow bros roaming around shirtless and feeling up their new muscles... I don't know how Henry can wear these skinny jeans all the time. I was rock-hard within minutes and it physically hurt to have my new eight inches constrained by denim. I almost feel guilty, giving him the shorter end of the stick.

I'm pretty sure Henry is an insatiable bottom, so all of that size seems wasted but... what can you do? Anyway, we're allowed to hook up this weekend as long as we use condoms and... when else am I gonna have this opportunity, you know? If I don't take this chance, I'm gonna be consumed by the 'what if's forever. Also the part where I'm horny as fuck in his body.

Lucky for me, whoever ended up in Joey's body was giving me the side-eye the whole time we were at the opening mixer, so I don't think it will take much effort to get my dick wet. His body has the type of smooth skin I've always envied, and I'm honestly jealous at how handsome his face looks. He's got a dirty blonde dye job that plays into his charm, and his muscles are... well, they might be bigger than mine. My real muscles, anyway.

"You wanna head upstairs to my room?" Joey asked, grabbing my bulge in his hand. He flashed a dazzling grin, and I could feel myself swooning from the confidence. God, I wanted him so bad. But Joey was just a Sophomore, which meant he still had one of the smaller bedrooms.

"My room," I said, shaking my head. A thought crossed my mind, and once again I figured I may as well follow the impulse. I threw my arms around Joey's neck and jumped into his arms. He stumbled a bit, but pretty soon his arms were hooked underneath my body to support my weight. So many of my friends back home did that all the time, and now I understood why they found it addicting. I leaned in close enough for him to feel the heat of my breath as I whispered into his ear, "I want you inside me."

---------------------------------------------

"I really needed that," I said, putting some clothes back on after the most intense session of my life. "Can't say that I had ever imagined getting fucked by a man before, but, uhh... I enjoyed it, it was good. Hopefully that was good for you, too?" I could feel myself starting to blush. "I've never been a gay man before, but I think I got the hang of it there at the end."

"Bro, you were great, don't even worry about it," Joey said, resting a comforting hand on my shoulder. "But, uhh... what do you mean, you've never been a gay man before?"

I paused, trying to figure out whether or not he was messing with me. "I mean... I'm in Henry's body right now? It's me, Matty. I'm not actually gay. But, you know... when in Rome."

He just laughed at me. "Bro, that's not how it works. Attraction is all in the brain. Like... yeah, the real Henry is out and proud, but you being in his body doesn't make you gay. If you were into that, you've always been into dudes. You were just too afraid to admit it."

His face was all smiles, but his words felt like a punch to the gut. "Wait, but... I can't be gay, I've had girlfriends, I..." I tried to come up with some sort of defense, but nothing came to mind. I thought I was caught up in what other guys looked like because I was jealous. Was that just some warped form of attraction? "Are you sure the swap works like that?"

Joey wrapped me in a warm hug. "I'm sure. Sorry, bro. Didn't mean to give you a existential crisis. I thought you knew. You may not be gay, if it helps? You might be, like... Bi or Pan instead. And no one's gonna make you pick a label right away. Take your time, see what feels right."

He had a point. Being attracted to dudes wasn't limited to just gay men. And anyway, it's not like being gay would be a bad thing. I just... I didn't think it was me. "Hey, thanks bro," I said, hugging him back. "And... sorry if I sounded insulting. There's nothing wrong with being gay, I just didn't think... well, I'll definitely have to figure out my, uhh... my truth, I guess."

I started lowering my hands back down to his ass, and pretty soon we were making out again. "Hey, are you sure this is what you want?" Joey asked, pausing as I started to strip again. "Feels like you're moving fast, and I want to make sure you're not, like... pressured or whatever."

"Yeah, I'm sure," I replied, smiling at him. "You're the one who told me to see what feels right. That was my first time having sex with a dude, and it felt pretty good. So I think I'm gonna have sex with a guy for a second time. See what happens."

He smiled back, and I could feel myself melt. I don't know who's in Joey's body right now, but I hope it's someone hot. There's no way we aren't hooking up once we swap back.

[brucewaynehater101]

I need you to stop me from making another Tim Drake centric fic

I got this random idea that won’t leave me alone

like what if the emotional scars and trauma people have show up physically too most commonly as little cracks on the skin and all of the bats have them

they hide them tho with make up and stuff so people don’t question it except Tim hides them from everyone maybe bc that’s what his parents taught him to do maybe bc he just doesn’t want to burden any of the bats

the bats think that Tim is fine so to them he’s invincible which leads them to treat him as such subconsciously or otherwise especially Bruce

it takes a lot for something to be bad enough that they physically manifest and Tim has A LOT bc everyone thinks he’s invincible

:) it won’t leave me alone help me I beg of you

Hmm.... Let's add on, shall we? This is a very rad idea. You should definitely write a fic about it, but no pressure.

Mind if I explore it? Also, feel free to disregard any part below you don't want/disagree with. This is just brainstorming ^^

Alright. Emotional scars are a physical mark on someone's skin.

Similar to regular scars, they can fade as a person heals.

Some may never disappear, and some only appear for a short time.

What would their color be?

Would they look like actual cracks in a person (so black-ish in color)? Would they be gold or multi-colored (different colors represent different kinds of emotional traumas)?

The level of hurt inflicted is directly proportional to the size (length and width) of the scar.

Perhaps more could be deduced from the general shape (is it jagged? A single line? Branching?)

Not all people have these marks

Most of the population manifests them. There's some prejudice against folk who don't [something something they are heartless, incapable of feelings, not able to be emotionally hurt, cold, detached, etc.], but hiding scars is also common. Therefore, it's harder to discern whether someone is hiding their marks or markless. It's a very fine line, so most people allow a smaller mark to show every once in a while. There's even a few trends to proudly display all marks.

Marks appear at the time of the emotional harm

It may not be apparent at the time due to the location, but the individual being hurt will manifest the mark at the very moment of emotional harm.

Anyways, that's the background stuff. Fun, but let's get into Tim specifically ^^

Tim's parents are part of the few who believe that showing off your scars to anyone, even your loved ones, is both a weakness and a way to guilt-trip people. Therefore, through their archeology studies, they managed to obtain magical objects to prevent the showing of emotional marks. It's similar to glamor.

Tim's object can change forms to suit his needs (so a ring at one moment and an earring the next). This ability prevents the Bats from discovering it.

Janet fakes a very small mark on her hand when she wants to discourage any rumors that's she's incapable of manifesting marks. For Tim, though, his parents wanted him to have rumors of being incapable of forming marks. It served their purpose better for him being the cunning Drake heir.

The deception started from birth, so no one but the Drakes know of Tim's ability to form marks [and the Drake parents never see the marks they leave behind on their child].

The Waynes, long before Tim entered their life, were aware of these rumors. Thus, when Tim demands to become Robin, he doesn't correct their assumptions.

Bruce is a callous fucker to Tim at the start. If Tim can't be hurt emotionally, then Bruce's ill-treatment of him is fine (which is flawed logic. The markless can be emotionally hurt, and they still deserve kindness, dignity, and respect even if they couldn't. Bruce was mentally fucked up, but it doesn't excuse his treatment).

Eventually, Bruce comes to the second realization that Tim should still be treated well even if it doesn't hurt him regardless. The man's behavior is better, but he still has the notion in mind that Tim can't be emotionally hurt. He uses this for missions and to downplay the way his other kids treat Tim (specifically Jason and Damian when they first meet Tim).

Tim gets used to a rotation of insult-names: Robot Robin, heartless, markless (said insultingly), cold-blooded, unfeeling bastard, etc.

He's also subject to a TON of misunderstandings. People are more reluctant to love him due to the belief that he can't love them back. He gets yelled at and told off for "masking/faking his emotions" when he's actually being genuine.

Which adds to his hurt :)

He also has to pretend not to grieve his parents when they die :(

Due to how rare markless are, the Bats don't meet "another" one until after the BruceQuest. When they chat with this person, they realize how many misconceptions they have about them (such as the markless being incapable of feelings. In fact, they accidentally offend that person when they tell the other they don't need to fake their emotions in front of the Bats. Safe to say, the markless individual becomes incensed when they realize how they've been treating their own markless family member).

This would be at least four (probably closer to five) years after Tim first became Robin. The entire family has a meltdown.

Tim, on the other hand, is used to the treatment the Bats have been giving him and becomes incredibly uncomfortable with them trying to care for his feelings and whatnot. It's rocky for a long while as everyone tries to seek forgiveness for something Tim bitterly doesn't hold against them (he is lying to them after all).

Tim rarely, if ever, views his own marks. The last time he checked was when he was having his identity crisis after Robin was taken from him. His entire body, from head to toe, had cracks in it. There was a giant, gaping crack on his back for the metaphorical stab in the back it was.

And we haven't even gotten to when the Bats figure out Tim was never markless :)

[elllisaaa]

heyyy I’m the girl who had this request (OBSESSED with your work, as a 5 foot tall girl I would love to hear your thoughts on casual dominance and size kink for Seungmin) I was talking about Seungmin from Stray Kids ! my bad I should’ve specified 😅😅

no problem lovely ! i'm just glad i can write this because as a girl who's 5.2 ft tall AND seungmin biased, i cannot support you more on this 😭

SEUNGMIN with a SIZE KINK who loves the fact that you need his help all the time because you're so much smaller than him. even when it's mundane tasks like asking him to grab something from the higher shelves for you or opening the jar you cannot - even when it's just this, he cannot help but feel something more.

it really gets him going how he towers over you so easily, how he doesn't need to try for you to look smaller beside him in pictures. seungmin is always holding your hand, and you think it's cute, but if only you knew it's because he's obsessed with the way they're so small compared to his, obsessed with the way it must feel so good when he's the one fingering you. "your little fingers can't reach that deep, right ?" and you shake your head at him weakly, whimpers sleeping past your lips every time seungmin curls his fingers in the right angle to hit your sweet spot. "n-no ! feels better when it's yours…" - "that's what i thought."

it's also the way you're always relying on him, it's the way you always search for him when you need help, it's the way you're so obedient without him having to ask you anything. seungmin exudes dominance, he just has that vibes that makes you want to listen to him and drop to your knees without him telling you to. "fuck, you're such a good girl for me. i don't even need to tell you what to do." - "i just want to be good for you." and you're looking at him with those big doe eyes of yours while you're unzipping his jeans, helping him out of his clothes. once you get your hands on his heavy length, you can't let him go until he's cum down your throat. and it doesn't matter if he's too big for you, it doesn't matter if it hurts your jaw, it feels too good to stop. seungmin isn't going to tell you to stop either, loving the way you gag around him every time you try to take him deeper into your small mouth, loving the way your eyes fill up with tears from how big he is. "look at you baby, mouth already full with only half of my cock."

seungmin feels so powerful everytime he fucks you, because you're just so good for him, so perfect for him, so made for him, it's actually crazy. you say please everytime you want something, you never cum without his permission, even when he's being extra mean, you're always following his orders. so of course, he has to reward you, of course he has to bury his cock deep inside and compliment you about how pretty the bulge in your stomach is because he's still too big for you. "i can literally see my cock, baby." you whine when seungmin presses his hand down on the bulge, making the both of you feel even closer to the edge. "your pretty little cunt still can't take me, uh… that means i still have to train you, don't you think ?" - "ah ! yes, please minnie, i want more…" - "so greedy for my cock." and you are, but it's because you love how easy it is for seungmin to overpower you, how he has no trouble holding you down and pinning your hips to the mattress. and he loves it too, he loves how easy it is for him to take control, he loves how small you look underneath him. "shit, you're squeezing me so tight. you're close, aren't you ?" - "y-yes, so close, please, can i cum ? please, please i've been good !" - "mmh, that's right, the perfect girl for me, baby. go on, cum around my cock." and you do what he says, because whenever seungmin tells you something, you can only follow along.

[demonsword586]

Tartaros pp headcanons! (Just the nobles)

Bimet

- I imagine he is one of the few normal sized pp owners amongst devils. (Still,they are naturally larger than humans,so normal for a devil is still pretty impressive for a human.)

-Anyway I belive he is around 15 cm in lenght .

-You see the charm about this man's shlong is not in size like most people think but in it's shape.

- You see his tip is sharp. This man is a whore. With enough money,you could probably buy a night with him. And as a proper gold digger....he needs a sharp tool for the job.

-You ever saw the part of a flute in which you blow? Yea that's his tip

-Not only is his tip pointy but somewhere in the middle of his shaft he has tiny bumps. They're small and there's not a lot of them...but just enough for you to feel it when he ravages your insides.

-He thought about dipping his pp in gold like he does to his feet but immediatelly stopped after the first try. Mostly because the gold was dropping down way too quickly because of the higher temperature.

-He settled on just wearing a few thin golden cock rings. Also has a simple prince albert piercing

-From all the gold in the air,I woudn't be suprised if he eats it too. After a few years of chewing on metal,his cum got a certain yellowish color to it.

-I do think he cums a lot tho and it's watery...very watery.

-He keeps himself groomed most of the time. If you're serving the richest man in hell as his right hand,you gotta keep a certain level of proper hygene and looks to match.

- Also yes his pp does smell like pennies.

Valefor

- I think he's pretty similar to Mammon. He already works hard to have a body like his. I woudn't be suprised if that applies to his dick as well.

-As you can imagine....big. Not as big as Mammon's meat srick but very similar. Thick,long and hard as a brick. He should register is as a lethal weapon. In and put of the bedroom.

-At least he is aware of his own size,comparred to some other careless nobles. He knows he could actually hurt you and does everything in his might to prevent that,even if it means sacrificing his own pleasure for yours.

-Speaking of pleasure and cumming,he's another one of those breeding bulls. His cum is a bit thick but actually tastes pretty good. The most similar thing to it is a lemon tart.

-Back to his cock. It's a bit more normal whrn it comes to the shape. It's the kind of a penis that is pretty to look at but also scares you with just how big it is. In other words,a teddy bear kind of pp.

-He keeps his pubic hair growing. Of course,he does shave it off every once in awhile. But only when it gets so unruly it iches. But every other time? He just let's it grow. He just doesn't pay too much attention to his hair when he has to put so much work into growing out his muscles.

-But somehow has one of the healthiest hygene routines? Has like 12 diffrent products,all for a specific thing on his body. He's a good boy who takes care of himself properly.

-He does work out a lot tho,so he can't always be smelling like sunshines and manly chemicals. Even after many showers,there is still a small sprinkle of the sweaty smell on him. He is trying to get rid of it since he knows humans are a bit more sensitive about bad smells compared to devils

Eligos

- Small...the smallest penis owner in Tartaros nobility and he is damn proud of it!!!

-He's actually really happy with his size since smaller pps are way cuter than those muscular-looking dicks. It gives him a very cute bulge too!

- It's size is 11 cm.

- Some of his coworkers suggested he starts wearing some more gold but he refuses. After all,ribbons are way cuter than gold and very flexible in their usage too! He can wrap them everywhere even on his dick.

-Has a collection of diffrent types of ribbon fabric,each for a specific part on his body. There is so many pretty fabrics after all but not every one fits more intimate areas. For down there he uses a very soft,silk ribbon.

- Has a very good hygene too. Probably owns a whole cabinet of showering items. My man knows his stuff. He follows Orias's social media and they even give each other beauty tips in DMs. Paimon joins in on some conversations as well.

- Anyway back to his pp! We already got out of the way that it's small. Well it's also really sensitive! Especially on the underside of his shaft and the point where his tip is the sharpest. If you rub or touch him there,he becomes quite vocal. I don't mean those little whimpers but full on moans. When Mammon first heard him,he had to ask later if he was okay and if he needed a headpat. Poor man probably thought Eligos hit his balls or something.

-Speaking of balls,his are pretty small and round. His ballsack is a bit tight which makes his balls appear very adorable,like little marbles. They fit perfectlly in your palm too! Ah,but don't squeeze them,he'll push you away and cover them for a few weeks if he sees you.

-Man waxes. You see those shiny thighs? Yea he wants all of his assets to be like that. Smooth like an infant. He actually does the whole process by himself. Unless there is a place he cannot reach *cough* his ass *cough*

-Overall,a very cute little thing and slightly squishy. The color of it is just as his skin with his tip being a paler pink.

[moondirti]

i’m so sorry but i’m such a simp for big men in masks. this is very self indulgent buuuuut could i request a ghost x reader who is shy and relatively unexperienced with sex? like has been with maybe 1-2 people but kinda just let them take charge? also really want some size difference in there too if possible? like i’m 5’6ish and underweight due to health issues but i can’t stop thinking about being tossed around by that mountain of a man

i have no excuse on why this took so long to get to babe, i'm sorry! he might be ooc in this idk, i just got done with a lengthy price oneshot so i need to warm up on ghost. corruption kink with ghost warnings: size kink, painful sex (kinda)

You don't tell him - not on your own volition, anyway.

But Ghost has seen you gut men twice your size, ripping their pancreas from between cracked ribs, dousing your hands in viscous red that still encrusts your cuticles days afterwards. You hold your weight on the team, your ledger stained with anyone who dares question it. He doesn't ask, but he only assumed the brash confidence to extend to every aspect of your being.

Which is why, when he cups your face or growls an obscene request in your ear, it throws him off guard to see you withdraw. Flushed, your cheeks warm with babydoll humility. You've never wavered with anything as much as you did him; not death, not merciless fusillade. It's a bizarre contradiction with everything he had you pinned down as.

It doesn't take him long to figure out why. You eventually blossom, just the slightest bit, and find yourself in his bed mere hours later.

"Gorgeous fuckin' thing. About stuff you full."

"Haah- I... You're huge, shit."

"You're a big girl, pet, you can take it."

"I've never- fuck! Slow down, please, please..."

His body locks at the first crack of your voice. You've got your face hidden in his shoulder, tucked between his neck and a thick muscle. He can't see it, but he knows. Your lashes flutter, damp on his skin, a hot pool of fresh tears trekking the scant space between you.

Simon pulls out, only a third of the way in, and detaches from you. He doesn't exactly have the words for comfort - his vocabulary whittled down to military jargon and bad jokes - but he rests his hand on your calf while he waits for you to collect yourself.

It's enough. A voiceless agreement permeates your relationship, some quick-trick tool for times when war unravels; one nod over the body of a gun, a pat on the shoulder as you fight your separate ways. It holds relevance, always, even now.

So he waits, because it's the only thing he can do. Waits, and reels over what went wrong. He'd thrown you over his face, sucking your honeyed slick directly from the source, until your body shook with concerning violence. He'd pumped you with two fingers, stretching your tight hole in preparation. He'd kneaded your supple flesh until you spilled to a puddle underneath him. All of it has usually sufficed before now.

It isn't your full-bodied heaves stop that you break the silence.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. You didn't do anything, it was just... overwhelming. I've only ever been with one person before, and they were-"

"Bad."

"Smaller, asshole. God-"

He grabs your wrist, wrapping it in a large hand.

"Did I hurt you?"

"Not nearly. Just-" You gesture to yourself. "Like I said. Overwhelming."

"Shy, then."

"Si-"

You're practically squished when he bends over you, full lips grazing your jaw when he gruffs his intrusion.

"We have all night, pet. Plenty of time to get you to open up."

[weird-an]

tw: child abuse, alcohol. homophobia

Indiana is a wasteland and so is Billy. Neil's teaching him lessons, more than usual and Billy has nowhere to go. He can't afford college, not when Neil takes whatever Billy's got.

Neil calls him faggot and loser and he’s right and Billy has every word carved into him. Fear is with him every day, because Neil watches him constantly. It's like his room gets smaller and smaller.

Billy needs distraction, so he drinks, smokes and gets into fights. If there's only pain, it's drowning out whatever’s going on in his head, he's forgetting that all Neil says it true, that a future is something he can only dream of.

He's halfway through a bottle of whiskey and he's hurting, his left cheek throbbing.

The world is already blurred. Billy prefers it that way. He doesn’t want to see it.

"Jesus, Hargrove, are you alright?"

He has to blink, one, two, three times.

Harrington wears his stupid flawless designer shirt, hair on point and brown eyes big and so fucking beautiful.

"Get lost," Billy spits, because Harrington can't stay here. He's stopping Billy from drowning.

"It's Sunday morning," Harrington says. He sounds worried and Billy's stomach twists. He tries to remember the last time anybody worried about him that way.

He can't think that, because there's a hole inside him the size of his mother. It's his fault she's gone, he's sure. She left without a word, but luckily Neil has lots of words to call his son.

"Amen." Billy just takes another big gulp.

There's a hand on his, touching him lightly where he holds the bottle. Billy flinches, lets go of the whiskey.

He hears glass shattering, but he doesn't look. He's staring in Steve's eyes and he's so fucking scared. He isn't even sure why.

"I can bring you home," Steve offers. "You shouldn't drive, it's too dangerous."

Billy laughs. Home is thousands of miles away.

He stops when Steve's hand, still unbearably warm against his own, squeezes his. Neil is calling him a faggot in his head, the word echoing in his skull.

"Then we're going to mine," Steve decides, an unreadable expression on his pretty face. The whiskey blurs that too. What a shame.

Billy follows Steve. The world around him is blurred. Steve is the only thing Billy can see.

[secretsideblogshhhh]

Imagine you live in a kingdom. Everything in this kingdom was modeled after the founder of the whole city.

This means the house sizes, the utensils, the clothes, every single thing, was made for him.

And for plenty of people this is fine. The clothes fit them, the cabinets are easy enough to reach, the size of the tools are perfect.

But you're a fair bit smaller than this guy was. The clothes are extremely baggy on you. You struggle to keep them on. They get in your way and you trip over them all the time.

You can't reach the cabinets, the tools are hard to hold in your hands.

Everything you do takes so much effort because nothing here was made for you.

But everyone else gets annoyed by this, not because of the system made that makes life hard on you, but because you're different.

They hate you constantly tripping.

You mention maybe getting a belt to help with that, and everyone you know gets mad at you for even suggesting it.

"you don't really need a belt"

"you could just take some growth medicine, get bigger"

"you don't deserve special treatment just because you're different"

"well everything works just fine for me, I don't know why you have issues"

And it's frustrating. The only person who you can relate to is your buddy Tim, who's a whole lot bigger than the guy everything was made for was.

His clothes cut off his circulation, they actively hurt him.

He hits his head on doors, he can barely use the tools because they're so small to him.

He wants to make his own clothes, but he can't afford it because he can't keep a job.

No one wants to hire a guy who can't hold the tools, or who needs a break every few hours so he can take off his clothes in the bathroom to breathe.

And even if he did manage to get the money, the tools are too small. He'd have to hire someone.

And hiring someone would cost so much more.

Of course the responses he gets are similar to yours.

"you're just lazy, it's not that hard to get and keep a job"

"have you tried just losing weight? That's probably what's causing all your issues"

You and him bond over this. How the world is cruel to you for being different. You found each other because of you were different from everyone else and it brought you closer

But then people see your friendship. It would be natural to assume that your friendship makes sense. You have the same struggles after all.

But no.

People see that you're friends and say

"well obviously you're both making up your issues, it's so rare for even one of you to exist. But 2 of you? You have to be lying for attention"

You try to show them that your issues are real, because you want help. You'd love for others to understand and help you fix the way the kingdom is built.

But people look away, they ignore you. Either pretending to not see you or they just invalidate your experience.

"everyone has rough days"

"you just got some poorly made clothes"

"He just wants an excuse so he doesn't have to work"

"if you just tried harder-"

Everyone seems to have some solution for your issues, ones you've tried a hundred times before.

Everyone seems to have an opinion on your existence. Usually pity or disgust. Often a mix of both, though the disgust isn't something anyone will admit to aloud. Their actions speak loud enough though.

That's how it feels to have a disability. Especially an invisible one. You have to fight just to be heard and it's exhausting.

Everything that you do is a struggle people who aren't disabled just don't understand. And it's infuriating how they write you off just because they don't want to even try to understand

[futurecorps3]

hey babe, i am on my knees begging you pretty pls for a james x reader with big thighs and like a kinda chubby stomach you know??? pls i am begging so much 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

𝐉𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐜𝐡𝐮𝐛𝐛𝐲!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Masterlist<3

MINORS STAY AWAY I'LL BLOCK EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU, THIS IS +18!!!

See also… All marauders versions in my marauders masterlist<3

I didn't quite know how to title this since it isn't exactly chubby reader but oh well. HAVING SAID THAT, JAMES IS SUCH A THIGS MAN. Thank you so much nonnie! My body type seems similar to this so this is very much me projecting<3 hope u like it

-Sorry for the strong start but he lives buried between your thighs

-Loves how plush they are!! When he goes down on you, he definitely bites them, squeezes them and makes you close them around his head<3.

-"Jamie I don't wanna hurt ya..." you giggle, seeing his eager hands pushing your thighs together "Oh shut it" barely audible because he's too busy taking care of you

-I've always imagined him being the one marauder with a car...

-HE HOLDS YOUR THIGH WHILE DRIVING UGH

-Gives mindless squeezes to them while taking turns, veiny, long fingers enclosing around the meat on your legs. PLEASE I'm melting.

-Teases you to no end if he's feeling frisky, raising his hand but not quite touching you where you need him

-"You alright there, darling?" glasses crooking slightly as he looks over to the side with a shit-eating smirk, kneading your inner thighs a bit too close to your- yeah.

-Not only while driving!! In class, in the common room, while eating dinner, in the library, when you wear jeans, when you wear skirts, when you're wearing nothing but panties and his jersey.

-He has to touch them.

-Loves how they look when you sit on his lap facing him!!!

-If you get self-conscious (because we all do sometimes), he has two solutions:

-Talk it out to see how he can help or make you sit on his face until you're brainless<3 your choice.

-Praise, praise, praise!!!

-"My pretty baby," "Doing such a good job," "Just relax. Let me take care of you, love." UGH.

-Adores using your tummy as a pillow in movie night with the marauders!!! He can't help himself, it's so soft like :(

-Lives for how you look in tight dresses that show your tummy and the top of your thighs

-Buys you a shit ton of those (partly bc he keeps tearing them up when you get time alone hehe)

-Flared, high-waisted jeans paired with long-sleeved crop tops are also his death sentence

-James Fleamont Potter can't go a day without absolutely drooling over how hot you are. It's a universal truth to him. He wholeheartedly believes there's no one as pretty as you!

-Laying on your thighs/tummy while you play with his hair<3

-Purposely buys skirts one size smaller than your size so they don't fit around your thighs and he can have a better look at them throughout the day

-Can't stop, won't stop for anyone except you.

-Again, if you feel uncomfortable with any of these, he'll gladly refrain. His unmeasured love for your body is just a part of your relationship!!

-If you like the attention, get ready because he'll live there and won't come out unless it's an emergency and, to be frank, very few things are an emergency to James Potter when he's squished between your tummy and thighs<3

[princessanonymous]

omg i just read your vampire story and it’s sooo good😩😩 i had to rewatch interview with a vampire after i read that masterpiece. i do wonder though, what happens to them in the modern age? do they still live in the mansion? do they relocate? does the reader have more permission to go outside? thank youuu <3333

𝓐𝓶𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓼𝓽 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓛𝓲𝓿𝓲𝓷𝓰 (Ask)

When Night Comes asks Platonic Yandere Vampire Story Chapter list

So sorry for taking so long!! I was busy with life and when I finally found the time to sit down and write it down, I didn't have the proper time to correct it bcuz of exams... I have one tomorrow but I really just wanted to finally post this. Another ask is probably coming soon but i can't really promise anything since i have a physics exam followed by one in chemistry 3 days later and one in math coming soon too. Life really isn't on my side now!

Still, here it is!

(Also some of yall might have noticed but I like putting these answers into little situation instead of telling it outright. Hope yall dont mind)

(+ This takes place during the cold war. I found it to be fitting.)

┉┈◈◉◈┈┉

“I can’t believe I accepted to stay in this dreadful place,” muttered her father as they walked into the new house they had bought. “This house is too small.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” quipped her dad while shaking his head, “this is what mortal Americans settle with. And they do it quite easily; this is the biggest house in the neighborhood.”

“That is the problem,” groaned her father while they walked through the already furnished house. It was a good thing her parents had paid people to do this tedious task. “We have never lived in a neighborhood before. There is no space! We don’t even have our own forest!”

“You agreed to let the little one choose our next home,” he reminded the other with a sigh. “That is her choice.”

The blond frown in distaste and looked around the living room. “Well I didn’t expect her to choose such a mediocre manor. This is utterly ridiculous.” He pinched the bridge of his noise in annoyance and exasperation as he settled in one of the satin armchairs in the room.

The girl puffed her cheeks, vexed by these words. Yes, it was true the house was smaller than the three other homes they had inhabited in America, it was definitely something she would need to get used to, but that didn’t make it less fun. Ever since they had left their motherland for the new world due to the constant attacks and bombings during the war, her existence had been filled with a neverending kaleidoscope of information and new things to see. America was nothing like England: everything was bigger and people acted so differently. 

She had indeed chosen this manor in Pennsylvania for a reason. It was gloomy and often cloudy there, just like they all preferred it. Additionally, while it was not the size her father was used to, she knew it was big enough for him to not outright refuse her request; they wouldn’t remain here very long though, but she could accept that. 

Most importantly… neighborhoods were filled with other children, and that was really the only thing that really mattered to her. The idea of interacting with others, even if they were mortals, made her giddy. If her father knew the real reason for her insistence on this estate, the girl knew he would refuse instantly, but what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him – or (Y/n).

—---

It took a week before she finally was able to meet people. The day was gloomy and clouds were in the sky, indicating incoming rain. Two boys passed by the house as she was swinging on the swing her parents had ordered installed for her. She watched as they came and went multiple times, playing with their blue ball and almost cackled in glee when one of the boys, the younger one, a boy with red messy hairs and freckles, who looked to be nine years old, threw the ball too far away and it landed close to her. She stood from her swing quickly to pick up the ball and stood–

“Careful!” warned the older, a boy with dark skin and brown eyes, who only looked slightly older than she did. The girl suspected he might be thirteen or fourteen.

It was too late, because not even a second later, she felt the seat of the swing collide with her back and she fell on the floor. The two boys ran to her; the youngest holding the swing as the older one helped her stand up. She winced, hoping her father hadn’t heard the commotion; she knew he would be mad if learned she was interacting with mortals. She didn’t want to be confined to her room for a year like he had done before.

The girl shuddered at the memory. Maybe trying this wasn’t a good idea; if he found out, he would surely do worse, he had promised it last time. She didn’t want to leave, she didn’t want to remain confined again.

She hated how cold and lonely and empty her room felt when it was the only thing she saw for months, she–

“You alright there?” Asked the oldest with his brows furrowed, unaware of the fact that he had snapped her out of her spiraling thoughts.

She nodded, still dazed and gave them their ball. They thanked her and the other mortal asked, “Are you living here? Nobody’s seen the new inhabitants yet. Mom says it’s impolite to not even greet anybody after moving in. Mom said only communists would do such an impolite thing.”

(Y/n) squirmed, embarrassed by these words. She didn’t know anything about neighborly etiquette. Should she have researched the subject before? She doubted her father was informed on that matter, but perhaps her dad knew more; he had always been more aware of mortal things than they were. 

The older glared at the youngest and lightly slapped the back of his head. “Rem, you can't just say that!”

“You heard her say it too!” Protested the redhead in outrage, ready to defend his statement.

The older one sighed and shook his head before rubbing the back of his head in embarrassment. “Excuse my step-brother, Jeremy; he doesn’t know what he’s saying. I’m Kenneth. We live just across from here.”

A smile graced her features again. "My name is (Y/n)," she introduced herself with a graceful tilt of her head, her voice carrying a controlled and melodic cadence, "how do you do? I live here with my fathers." She had to make a good impression.

Jeremy narrowed his eyes. “You have an accent,” he noted in fascination. “Where are you from? You're not a communist, are you? Mom said we can't speak to those.”

(Y/n) sensed some mistrust coming from him, and she quickly used her empath abilities to soothe him before his words registered in her mind. (Y/n)'s expression faltered for a moment, a hint of confusion clouding her features before she shook her head lightly. “I don’t have an accent,” she denied while pointing at him, “You do have an American accent though.”

The redhead shook his head in disbelief, crossing his arms over his chest in a gesture of defiance. “Americans don’t have accents, silly,” he retorted with a grin, his eyes alight with amusement.

But (Y/n) wasn't about to let the matter go so easily. She protested adamantly, insisting that she could clearly hear the distinct nuances in his speech. Back and forth they bantered, neither willing to concede their stance on the matter  before eventually realizing they wouldn’t agree on that matter. 

"But where are you from?" he asked, his tone gentle yet insistent, "You're not from here, are you?"

She shook her head. "No, I was born in England,” she revealed, her voice carrying a faint trace of longing for her homeland. She still missed England dearly. She knew vampires typically never spent more than a century in the same country, but she had still been devastated when her parents had decided to leave; even more when they sailed to a different continent altogether. 

Jeremy looked starstruck, their small innocuous disagreement already far behind in his mind, thanks to her abilities. "Really? Did you ever meet the queen?" he asked eagerly, his imagination already running wild with visions of royal encounters and grand palaces. 

She giggled at that, then tilted her head, contemplating the question. After a brief moment of contemplation, she realized that he was likely referring to Queen Elizabeth II, rather than Queen Victoria. "No, never," she replied with a casual shrug, noting the slight disappointment that flickered across Jeremy's face at her response.

"Hey, wanna join us tomorrow at two o'clock? We'll be down this street with all the neighborhood kids. Probably going to play Hide-and-seek.”

(Y/n) smiled warmly at the invitation, her curiosity piqued by the prospect of joining in with the neighborhood kids. "Sure, I'd love to!" she replied eagerly, the thought of meeting new mortals outweighing any concerns she might have had about the unfamiliar game they mentioned.

Although she had never heard of Hide-and-seek before, (Y/n) was undeterred. As she agreed to meet them the following day at two o'clock, her mind was already buzzing with anticipation. (Y/n) knew she would have to find a way to sneak out without her fathers noticing, but she was determined not to let that stop her from joining in on the fun. With a mischievous glint in her eye, she began plotting a way to sneak out, confident that she could pull it off.

[spacebarbarianweird]

Hi!! I eat up ur comfort fics so how about a tav! That’s so overwhelmed mentally they have a lot of trouble sleeping and how the companions (of ur choosing or just one) would help/react to finding them awake crying at like 3am. I’ve been having so much trouble sleeping and it would mean a lot🫶🫶

Oh, that hits home! My insomnia is the worst! And the darkness always comes in the quitest hours of the night. Hope, you don't mind an OC fic with Tiriel the Barbarian as Tav. If it's not to your liking send me another request, I will gladly write another one (or doing your class/race)

Insomnia

Summary: Astarion isn't the only who has traumatic past.

Pairing: Astarion x OC (Tiriel)

Tags: fluff, hurt/comfort, post-game, named Tav, established relationship, f!tav

Thanks @themadlufor beta-reading!

Read on AO3

Masterlist

Headcanons

"Fairy girl!" the chieftain bellows. "Come here, little bitch!"

Tiriel tries to hide. She isn't Tiriel yet —she is only twelve, and she doesn't have a name yet. Only slurs and nicknames - Pixie, Fairy, Rabbit. All possible insults toward someone who is only half a human as if it were her fault her mother didn't keep her legs shut when a handsome young elf passed by their village.

The nameless girl is smaller in size than her siblings - the Chieftain's children. Mother has five with him - three older than "Fairy Girl" and two younger. The youngest ones don't understand why one of their sisters has pointy ears and can see in the dark but the others happily "put the elven bastard in line."

"Didn't you hear, Pixie girl?" The stepfather is getting angrier.

No. Don't approach him. You know what he is going to do!

An older brother, sixteen and almost adult, grabs the half-elven girl's collar and drags him to the chieftain. The brother is as cruel as his father and will never forgive his mother's infidelity.

"We should have fed you to the wolves once you were born, Pixie"

I have a name you fucking bastard, my name is Tiriel!

No, not now. Three years. Three years more of misery, humiliation, beatings - but it will end. It will end with fire in the girl's veins, the primal gift of Rage. With blood and violence when the chieftain choked on his own blood. With running away through the cold autumn woods and merciless mountain winds. With tears of desperation when the girl realizes she is on her own lost, and tired.

It will end with a party of adventurers led by an old Tiefling telling the "Pixie girl" that she needs a name, not a slur. Asking her to lead them through the wildernes. Allowing her to be part of their team, a reckless Barbarian who kills first and asks later.

Tiriel, she will tell them. My name is Tiriel.

But the grasp of the nightmare doesn't relent to her. Pain. Cry. Half of her ear is covered in blood. A burst of laughter. An angry dwarf-healer takes the girl to her hut to stitch the ear back.

Tiriel opens her eyes.

She can't understand where she is. She is in a dark tent, under a thick blanket. It's so thick it's difficult to breathe.

No, it's not only the blanket wrapped around her.

She gently touches Astarion's curls. The vampire sleeps covering her body like a weighted blanket. His head is on her chest, hands wrapped around her. He doesn't breathe, his heart doesn't beat.

He is in an elven trance.

Tiriel hopes he is seeing something good.

They've been together for two years, traveling further and further and further North. Sooner or later they will have to turn back, probably heading South-east, but for now they are simply moving, following their mutual wanderlust.

The nightmare was so real Tiriel almost feels like she re-lived those events. But human ancestry prevents half-elves from the experience of reverie.

She needs to go out, to the sunlight - the northern days are so short Tiriel craves at least some of it.

But with Astarion sleeping on her it's impossible. Well, at least he doesn't need much time.

She tries to go back to sleep but can't. Tiriel is tired from the insanity of the last day - she hasn’t slept well because they couldn't find shelter and had to flee into the underground tunnels. They were followed by at least three different groups of enemies that forced them into fighting.

Tiriel needs to sleep.

But she can't.

The events of the past wrap around her mind. Her miserable childhood, her terrible mother, her awful siblings. Only the old dwarf, a retired adventuress, was kind to her.

She feels a wave of tears approaching. Tiriel chokes on them and at that moment Astarion's hands hug her tighter.

He is very well aware of his surroundings when he trances.

Tiriel brushes her finger along his ear forcing his body to stir.

"I thought you slept longer than me," he mutters, slowly returning to reality.

Tiriel hugs him tighter, caressing his back’s scars. Gods, she loves it when he is like that!

Conscious and aware of his surroundings but absolutely unable to make coherent movements and dominate the situation.

"Can't sleep."

"Considering what we've been through it's rather alarming", he wakes up and leans on his elbows and Tiriel shivers, feeling the cold air between their bodies.

And then he notices.

"You've been crying, haven't you?"

Tiriel's mind interprets it as a signal and she bursts into tears. But who is crying? Tiriel the Barbarian or that nameless girl she once was?

Astarion sits up and tugs Tiriel into him, cradling her in his arms. She notices the utter panic in his crimson eyes changing to something else, something she can't yet identify.

"Hush, love, whatever it was, it's in the past - or we can kill it"

"It's just... I don't know..." Tiriel finds her voice. "It was so real. Now I know how it feels when you are tortured in your reverie. Do you think that can happen to me, too?"

"I have never heard of half-elves being able to meditate. It's something only Tel'Quessira can do. Even the ones with human blood, but who still pass as elves, have difficulties with that. What was it?"

"My bastard stepfather, my bitch mother, and my cut ear"

Astarion presses his lips to her forehead. Then he kisses her cheeks and fingers - there is no lust or desire in it, he kisses her like a parent would kiss a sick child, trying to soothe their pain.

It really does make her feel better.

She sighs. "I really need to sleep. But I can't."

"Then don't. Why torture yourself?"

"Because it will be a long night once the sun sets."

"Not an answer, Tiriel."

Tiriel smiles. Astarion doesn't have any pet names for her - sometimes calls her "love" or "heart" but mostly it's just Tiriel. And her name dances on the tip of his tongue, ringing like a prayer, like a spell.

He brushes his fingers along her ear lobes, then swipes along her facial scar and kisses her neck. She feels his fangs but he doesn't try to bite.

Astarion rarely feeds from her - usually when nightmares grip him or there isn't enough food for him.

"Astarion."

"Hm?"

"You can bite me if you want."

"Who am I to say no to such a generous offer. Although, are you sure?"

"Yes, the blood loss will make me dizzy. And I will be hungry once wake up."

"Absolutely not a problem my dear, there is plenty of prey in the woods."

Astarion helps her to lie back on the bedroll and kneels beside her. She notices the predatory spark in his eyes.

The fangs pierce her skin and Tiriel feels like drowning in the cold water. Her eyesight gets blurry, and a gentle numb feeling spreads through her body.

As he releases her, the darkness takes her. There are no nightmares, no memories - only peace.

***

Astarion leaves the tent and breathes the cold autumn air. Night calls upon him and so is the hunt. Well, Tiriel will be hungry like a starved wolf once she wakes up. And she will also crave something sweet.

Sometimes she is brave and fierce and sometimes she is like a little girl asking for candy after a rough day.

Tiriel never had a good childhood. It still drives Astarion mad - he was an adult when all that abuse happened to him. And there are probably still people alive who decide it's a good idea to beat a child, cut her ears, starve her as if she were at fault for existing.

Tiriel could have grown up bitter and evil, and she had the right to be like that; instead, she became the kindest and bravest person he has ever met.

Brave enough to let him close. So kind to find good things in him. She is clumsy, rude, and loud but delicate at the same time. There is some ghostly elegance in Tiriel, a gift from her elven ancestors. Mixed with the stubbornness and fire that are innate to humans.

Well, maybe, they should go look for her home village together and beat some asses. Tiriel will definitely feel better about it. He still remembers how she kicked Cazador's dead body once they were all ready to leave the dungeons.

 Her kindness is paired with violence, and that's another thing he loves..

"Sleep well, love," he whispers. "I will be back before you wake up."

--

Tag list

@tugoslovenka @marcynomercy @wintersire @vixstarria @not-so-lost-after-all @ashiro20 @theearthsfinalconfession @herstxrgirl @starlight-ipomoea @micropoe10 @astarion-imagine-archive @veillsar @elora-the-slutty-songstress @fayeriess @lumienyx @tallymonster @caitlincat-95 @tragedybunny @valeprati @lynnlovesthestars @marina-and-the-memes @waking-electric @ayselluna @connorsui @asterordinary @darkarchangel96 @locallegume @brainfullofhotsauce @coffeeanddonutscafe @my-queen-rhaenyra-targaryen

[nobylu]

Long Ass Logical Lore Conclusion Of The Balor (art at the end)

Let me put you on two trains of thought that will crash together like trucks on Mythbusters in a way that will make sense when they're together.

Train 1: Healing via putting numbers back on your health bar during battle is pretty rare in Lancer. There's really only two robots in the current edition of the game that can do it - the Lancaster can heal everyone and the Balor can fix itself. In fact, I'd argue that the Balor is defined more by healing than the Lancaster - you heal on your turn, you heal more on your turn if you activate your core power, you heal immediately after battle without expending repairs IF YOU ARE A BALOR AND YOU HAVE DAMAGE YOU HEAL and your DM vows to focus all fire on you so at least you take some kind of damage that's permanent (but then you activate your core power and say fuck you DM i rolled a d6 and got a 6 so actually there's no structure damage i am fine because I am a Balor)

Train 2: We all know and love that the Balor is just nanites on some sort of structure and that it goes yum yum yum on anything standing near it via the power of Scouring Swarm and Swarm Body (2-11dmg if you're standing next to one, if you dont know), but now we gotta ask - how do the nanites know where the robot ends and where the pilot begins? WHAT IS STOPPING THE NANITES FROM GOING AUTO YUM YUM YUM ON MY PILOT BECAUSE MY PILOT IS VERY ADJACENT TO THEM. I argue that what is keeping the nanites from snacking on their pilots is that the swarm knows what a human body is supposed to look like on several different levels. If they just know to not eat the skin, then the moment the pilot gets hurt because something got them when an enemy was shooting at the quote "angry water" that is the Balor then they get eaten from the inside out and turned into a fashionable human-sized human-shaped artisan raw leather bag because all the swarm knows not to touch is the pilot's skin. They also gotta know more than "a person is a head, torso, and four limbs" because then the bees will be the Diogenes to our Plato the moment, say, a space murder tiger comes into contact with the nanites and the bees will also cease to recognize the pilot when the space murder tiger rips off a leg because you know what's gonna happen the moment the pilot becomes a head, torso, and THREE limbs you guessed it it's yum yum yum time and now the swarm is the space murder tiger's, congratulations to the lucky tiger. So they gotta know skin, muscle, bones, blood, pilot's DNA, nerves - THE WHOLE NINE YARDS and probably how they sort of go together. (also probably clothes because i'd hate to pilot my bees and come out with my whole entire dick and balls and titties in the breeze because my bees atomized my fit and won't give it back). The subsequent collision of Train 1 and Train 2:

If Balors are greedy heal bots and know how people are put together, what is keeping them from healing their pilots. NOTHING, IS WHAT I SAY. I posit that Balor nanites can, in fact, fix their pilots because bodies are just the frames for the computational core that is the brain. How well you want them to fix their pilots is up to you - for me, the answer is poorly and with balor-ification. Mechanically, it can't be instantly because that would be busted and poor sport, but you can theme your Balor Pilot's revival upon their unfortunate death likely of reactor stress (RIP my shit heat cap) as "they got fixed up by their nanites". And if you really really want, you can add nanites to your Pilot like I did with my guy, Diederik.

Nanite Infestation and the Small Balor Stability Problem

You're familiar with that part of Balor lore that says that they don't work on anything smaller than size 2 because they just need SO MUCH ENERGY, so how do I justify through lore that my pilot has these nanites while also not acting as a size 1/4 Balor. The way I've perceived it is that Diederik, my boy my man my guy, is host to a swarm that 1) does not operate in its fullest capacity and 2) subsequently cannot do mech-level combat.

Balors have specialist nanites used in specific weapons like the Hellswarm, CONSUME/HIVE, and SWARM/HIVE. Something that can damage a mech probably is super energy-hungry, so we can have those be turned off. The only activated nanites would be structural nanites, sensor nanites, greywash (the part that eats), and reconstruction nanites that take what the greywash atomizes and glues it together like a 10 year old making a clay model of a person that makes you go "oohhh, thats... nice. Great job??? It looks just like me?". Just enough nanite activity that it can be powered by the human body at the low low price of "eat more food". (For Diederik, I've gone another step and will say that the reactor of the Balor is made of reactor nanites but that running them inside a human body uuuhhhh cooks it so those are off too.)

The cool thing about having Balor nanites permanently on you is that you can flavor all sorts of things as nanite shit. My pilot melee weapon is nanite knuckle dusters. I flavor my successful pilot-level rolls as the nanites doing something or alerting of something. I'm running the Bond Magus so all my Magus powers are just nanites doing their thing - skincrawl (get a bad feeling and react fast) is just the nanites telling Diederik about the bad thing in time for him to react, Geist (touch someone and experience what they do while unobserved even when far away) is just planting a nanite bug on them, Possession (ask the dark presence inside you a question) is just asking The Maw their/its opinion, etc.

(Another tidbit to chew on is that the swarm is still going to run a little toasty, so pilots hosting Balor nanites post healing are in turn going to be a little toasty just kind of always. Hello 100 freedom degree perma-fever.)

[pomplalamoose]

nsfw Dilf!Luke headcanons

🌹modern day AU🌹

A/N: I looove how these three asks share a common theme, so I decided to make one big post instead of three smaller ones to have all that sexy Dilf!Luke content in one place👀

Also I feel like I haven't posted in forever, I used to have so much time for writing :(

⭐ Dilf!Luke seeing you dressed up for the first time

• it doesn't matter at what point of your relationship you are, whether you are already a couple or only met recently

• Luke is stricken with awe, his mind wiped completely blank

• the only difference here is in how he acts

• in no way will he allow you, or anyone at that, to see what your appearance does to him if you're nothing more than his child's friend

• it just wouldn't be proper and he doesn't want to make you uncomfortable

• instead his impassive gaze will take in your outfit in a matter of seconds before casually sweeping away as if nothing out of the ordinary was going on

• possibly, if he's feeling a little risky, you'll receive a curt nod in acknowledgement of your presence

• though he'll then excuse himself abruptly, leaving you behind confused and maybe a bit hurt

• how ridiculous you feel to have dressed in such a way now!

• doesn't he think you pretty?

• oh but he does

• despite a short glance being all he allowed himself, the picture of you couldn't be burnt into his memory any more clearly

• you're so beautiful it nearly causes him physical pain, so moved is he by the sight of you

• was that really you he saw standing there?

• it might as well could've been an angel

• the need to take a look at you again is overwhelming, though first he'll have to find his courage to do so

• he will have to catch his breath, requires time to rebuild his composure and to gather his wits before daring to face you again

• he doesn't trust himself, doesn't believe he'll be able to refrain from leering at you like the perverted old man he is

• though once you're in a relationship and he sees you dressed up for the first time he'll do so unapologetically and without holding back, shamelessly undressing you with his eyes until you allow him to do more

• he'll take his time too, not caring if it will make you late to whatever event you're invited to

• stand right there opposite the window, against the backdrop of the white wall, so he can better take you in, will you?

• yes, just like that

• the lighting really flatters your skin

• give it a twirl, he wants to see every angle

• oh aren't you pretty?

• he'll sit down then, legs spread casually, letting his hot gaze travel over your body, lets it linger, until you're flushed red and squirming in embarrassment

• imagine his lazy grin

• imagine him slowly leaning forward, elbows propped up on his knee, his voice slightly rougher than before when he speaks

• do a pose for him, you know which one

• the one you did for that picture he took of you, the one he likes so much

• you can do that for him, can't you?

• throw him a kiss

• there you go

• play with your hair, give him a smile

• now, don't be so shy, there's no need

• you possess a beauty beyond compare, unlike anything he has ever seen before

• which lipstick are you wearing?

• is it the one he bought for you? The long lasting, kiss proof one?

• come, sit next to him and prove it

• you know, now that he thinks about it, you wouldn't mind staying here with him for a little while longer, wouldn't you?

⭐ Dilf!Luke's thoughts on boobs

• no matter their shape and size, Luke is and forever remains a boob man, no matter the universe

• his poker face may be spectacular, unreadable most of the time, but not even he can keep his eyes from widening, cannot refrain from blushing when he gets a good look at your cleavage

• before you're in a relationship with him I imagine him acting very similarly to the way he did seeing you dressed up for the first time

• however I don't think he'd always manage to slip away as inconspicuously as he did then

• most likely that's because he'd only notice the lower cut once you're sitting down together for dinner or while he's driving you home, making it impossible for him to leave the situation

• after all a lot remains hidden under a winter coat and a slightly too big shirt might look perfectly normal at first glance until it doesn't

• maybe you're leaning over the table to reach for a plate

• maybe you're offering to take his used dishes to the kitchen

• maybe you dropped something and are hastily trying to pick it up, to clean away your mess

• maybe the car's seatbelt got slightly tangled in your top, causing it to sit even more revealingly than it normally would

• either way, Luke grows hard instantly

• you already were are a constant in all of his dirty dreams before but unbelievably so they just got a whole lot more exciting

• he can't help it, can't help wondering how they'd feel like in his hands

• not when they look this soft and inviting

• not when they're just made to be fondled and caressed by him

• maybe you'd even let him scatter kisses and gentle bites all over their silky expanse

• maybe you'd allow him to play with your nipples?

• his eyes are prone to roll to the back of his head from just imagining it

• in no way will Dilf!Luke ever beat the allegations of being horny for you like a teenager

• not before he's dating you and certainly not after

• in fact quite the contrary is the case

• lust overcomes him easily when he sees your top closely hugging your figure, framing your cleavage and collar bones

• you better believe he's going to live out all of the countless fantasies he collected over the years without ever tiring of them

• not even when time is short is he able to resist

• don't worry though, there's no need to fully undress

• just let him bare your breasts so he can watch them bounce while he fucks you hard and fast on the sofa, before sending you on your way with a gentle slap to the back of your ass

⭐ Dilf!Luke in bed headcanons

• in one of my other posts (I think it was the fluffy Dilf!Luke hc's one) I already touched on this topic briefly, you can take a look here, though of course I'd love to go into more detail

• Luke likes to takes his sweet time with you

• not necessarily because he's a tease but because he thinks you deserve it

• he does enjoy the occasional quickie a lot, yes, but only if it's something you're into as well and if you've already been dating for a good amount of time

• so especially at the beginning of your relationship, when he's still a little unsure whether you actually desire him, his approaches will be nearly shy and always over the top gentle

• he's afraid you'll feel pressured into sleeping with him, something he wants to avoid at all cost

• his foreplay is thorough as he makes sure to check if you're still into it every few minutes

• you could be covered in sweat from head to toe, muscles helplessly shaking as he talks you through your third orgasm, and he'd still go "oh do you like that, sweetheart?" actually meaning it

• this requires much patience on his part though, patience he does not really possess

• despite his age his libido is as high as his sexual fantasies are active, so he often sees the need to take off a certain edge before allowing himself to take you to bed

• it's nothing that requires anything spectacular either, a few rough pumps under the shower usually do the trick

• you see, it has been a while since he last had sex and he's adorably nervous

• he wants to make you feel good above all else, so what if his performance has suffered over the years?

• what if you're faking your pleasure in order to not hurt his feelings?

• so exploring your body to memorize every little twitch you give in response is extremely important to him

• he doesn't care if he's rock hard and straining uncomfortably against his pants

• he will go as long as he needs to until you're begging him to finally fill you up

• (not that he minds, giving oral and fingering you open in front of a mirror are some of his favorite things to do)