#his shoulders are broader and arms thicker than ever...

[babieken]

[diejager]

can u pretty pls write some kidnapper! konig.. where he lives streams himself non-conning fem! reader ? while perverted men and other weirdos online watch and comment about us 😛

Cw: DARKFIC, DUB-CON/NON-CON, porn, non-con filming, size kink, kidnapping, power imbalance, degradation, tell me if I missed any.

Pleasure, whether consensual or not, was still pleasure, it burned through your nerves with a painful throb, a loud thrum that dazed you. You writhed, your feet kicking towards the camera he placed before you, pointing it towards your debauched figure, showing the audience - all sick and twisted men and women who were as sick as your captor was - how your slick cunt took him. König - your captor, your owner, your lover, or whatever fit him in the moment - was a giant of a man, his shoulders broader and thighs thicker than any man you’ve met, his whole body so big that he couldn’t even fit in the frame of the video he was directing. 

His form swallowed you, holding you still without much trouble, the muscles of his arms tensing and his abdomen rippling when a wave of pleasure ripped through him, his loud groans and shameless growls muffled by the balaclava he wore. His scarred hands bruised your supple thighs, spreading your legs open and slung over his lap, giving him full view of your. Your tight cunt stretched around his girth with a thick base and even thicker shaft, veins pulsing and pumping blood to feed his hard-on. He never groomed, he never saw the purpose for it, leaving it knotted and stinky, the musk of sweat and something that stank of him, a wild bush wet with your slick and his cum, glistening with how much he stuffed you with and a cloudy ring growing ever darker with the amount of orgasms he pulled from you. 

“Stupid whore, ”he spat, his grip growing stronger as he bucked his hips upwards, thrusting up as he dropped you on his cock, spearing you in front of a spectators, spitting degrading words and cruel insults, “Too dumb to listen. Too dumb to understand.”

He growled out his words, grinding them through his gritted teeth as he lifting you up and dropping you down on his lap like he would with the fleshlight he used to own, pumping it with a gross amount of cum when he was forced to watch you from afar. Imagining you squealing and choking on his cock worked wonders until it didn’t, he grew hungrier and hungrier for you, leaving him starving for you until he acted out his on his urges. He took things into his hands and brought you home, to lock a pretty collar around your throat and cut his name into your flesh to show his community who you belonged to. 

“You fight, but you always come on my cock,” he rasped, lowering his head to stare at your fluttering lashes, tears falling from them and rolling down your cheeks, a temptation for his tongue to come out and lap it all up. You were always so pretty when you cried, crying and mewling over him when he fucked you, ramming his round tip into your gummy cervix and pushing his cum deeper into your womb, “Schwanz fixierte Hua.”[Cock hungry whore]

Somehow, for whatever reason, your cunt clenched around him whenever he spat an insult, demeaning you to nothing but a cocksleeve or cum-dumping hole he would use forever after this one public show made you careen over the edge. Your back arched, pushing your swollen and perky nipples out as your walls closed around his cock, feeling every curve and groove of it and milking him for a second —or was it a third load? You couldn’t remember, all that your could remember was the shape of him, his rough handling and how sickening it was when he confessed that he broke into your appartement over the month and shared his plans he decided to enact. 

“Kan Stress Mausi. I werd mi guad um di kümman, und don zag i earna, dass’d mia g’heast. Klingt doch guad, oda?, “He whispered sweet promises as he pumped you full, his cock twitching as his body shook with the strength of it. He pressed a long and soft kiss to your cheek, a cruel smile curling the corners of his lips. [Don’t worry, mouse. I’ll take good care of you, then show them you’re mine. Good, yes?]

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @danielle143 @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @randominstake @cassiecasluciluce @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @infpt-zylith @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts @evolutionarry @kaoyamamegami

[doingitforbokuto]

Changes

-> HINATA SHOUYOU X FEMALE!READER

Summary: Hinata has changed a lot since he graduated high school and came to Brazil. He has had a lot of fun with other girls since he got here - why shouldn't he try his luck with you?

Words: 1.398

Warnings: groping, dubcon

Hinata starts having fun in Brazil. Before, he was used to being the small kid everyone thought was kinda cute but never a guy girls would be drooling over, fighting to go on a date with. It probably came down to his size, his biggest insecurity throughout all those years. Even later, when he overcame it in volleyball he never truly overcame the impression other people had of him and the way they constantly underestimated him and thought he was younger than he truly was. In the later months of high school, when puberty started being a bit kinder on his body and made his shoulders broader, his arms thicker with muscle, he still looked like a kid. Even when girls gave him chocolates for valentine's day or confessed to having a crush on him, he could tell what they were thinking. That he was cute.

He tried not to let it bother him but deep down, it always did. So when he came to Brazil and started becoming even taller, broader and stronger, he experienced something for the first time. Never before had he had girls looking up at him, batting their eyelashes like those sexy women in the movies did. Now, they bite their lips, touch him in subtle ways that still express their desire for him. No one had ever behaved like that around him. Like they want him to touch them, to ruin them. They aren't looking for him to be nice to them, they are looking for him to be a little rough with them and he was more than happy to do just that. 

He is still nice, of course. He likes treating a girl nicely, smiling at her, giving her compliments, offering advice when needed. It's just that he also liked getting a little rough every now and then. He enjoyes the new power his now grown up body gives him.

And now that he met you, he enjoyes it maybe a bit more than he should. You met at the beach where he was - as usual - playing volleyball. Hinata caught you glancing at him, admiring the way his tan skin glowed in the sun. You were trying not to stare but still, he could tell. 

"Do you want me to show you a move or two?" He aks you after he casually walked over to you. 

The sun is bright in your eyes and you have to squint to look up at him from where you are sitting in the sand. When you came to the beach you were really only planning to relax a little and enjoy the warm weather but this - spending time with one of the most handsome men at the beach - sounds a lot better than your original plan. Even if it does involve exercising in the blistering heat. 

But to your surprise he leads you down to a more secluded part of the beach. A few trees throw a little bit of shade, a few tall rocks set you apart from the rest of the beach, so high that no one can even see you. The once so loud voices seem dull and far away now. 

"It's a bit easier learning new things when you don't have a bunch of people staring at you, isn't it?" Hinata smiles at you so brightly that you don't even think of questioning his motives. I mean, why else would he have brought you here? 

The moves he shows you are easy enough and truly is a great teacher. Every little detail is observed by him and he never misses a mistake but still he is kind when explaining them to you. He passes the ball to you and tells you how to properly receive the ball. You're not exceptionally bad at it, but it isn't easy either. The ball never seems to fly the way you want it to. 

"Here, let me show you," he jogs over to you and shows you how to place your arms correctly. 

He's standing behind you, maybe a little closer than he should but it doesn't matter, right? Otherwise he would be able to move your hands in the right position, you tell yourself. It doesn't matter that you can feel his warm breath on your neck and your cheek, that his touch erects goosebumps on your skin despite the heat. It doesn't matter that when he retracts his hands he lets them brush against your shoulders and then, when he shows you how to properly squat down while receiving, against the sides of your breasts. You must be imagining it. He probably barely even brushed against you and you're just overthinking it. Aren't you? 

But you don't have time to truly think about it. All you can focus on right now is not whimpering when he places his hands on your hips and pushes you down, lightly and yet strong enough to make it clear that there is no other way for your body to move but the way that he wants it to. Not that you want to do anything but. 

"See," suddenly his voice seems to be a lot rougher, deeper, yet quieter, "if you squat down like that, you'll have a much better angle on the ball when it comes down." 

His body is closer now than ever. His chest is pressing up against your back, you could swear you could feel his hips brushing against your ass. 

All you can do is nod, biting your lip to suppress another whimper that wanted to escape you. Hopefully he wouldn't be able to see the blood rushing into your cheeks. You can already feel the adrenaline rushing through you, your quickened heartbeat was pumping your blood everywhere, to your face, your sweaty hands.. your crotch, your breasts.. maybe you should have worn another bikini, not the thin one you are wearing right now. Already your nipples are starting to harden with the way he is turning you on and you are sure that they would already be noticeable to him if he is to look down. 

"I think-" Is his breath even closer to your neck now? You feel like his lips are only a few millimeters away from you, as if he was leaning down to kiss you. "- I think if you move a little this way.." 

You are not prepared for him to move you over to the side the way that he does. With one finger slipping under the thin lining of your bikini panties, pulling them up and away from your skin. The fabric over your crotch is immediately pulled taut, the pressure on your clit impossible to ignore. The moan that slips from you is louder than you want it to be - you don't want it to be heard at all - but since you've been suppressing all your needy, desperate noises, you just can't help yourself. 

"Oh.. does that feel good?" 

Somehow, you've landed against his chest, with his lips right next to your ear. Your legs must have given out a little and let you stumble backwards against him. You can only nod. Deep inside your brain something is telling you that this is weird and wrong, definitely happening too fast but you don't care. The whole time you've been trying not to stare, not to flirt, not to give into your feeling. But now they've been set free, and the only thing you can think about is the pulsing need between your legs and the delicious, mind-numbing pleasure you get from the little bit of friction he is giving you by still pulling your panties up. So, when he asks you if it feels good, obviously you have to nod. There is nothing else for you left to do. 

Lucky for you, his big, warm arm wraps around your waist and keeps you from falling to the ground. You've literally fallen right into his arms. 

"You want me to make you feel good? Even better than just now?" 

"Uh-huh." You can't even form complete sentences now. 

Hinata smiles at how cute and helpless you are, your hands weakly grabbing onto his forearm for purchase. He's got you under his spell now and he knows it. But don't you worry, he really will make you feel good. 

After all, he is still nice. 

[hotmentransformed]

Alone on Valentine's Day

Sean and Tommy were roommates who had become close friends over the years. They shared everything from their favorite Netflix shows to their deepest fears, including the fact that they both hated being single on Valentine's Day. Although they were both gay, they were mutual friends, with no attraction to each other.

On this particular February 14th, Tommy decided to have a night in with Sean to commiserate about their single status. Rather than go to the bars and cruise for some curious straight man, Tommy thought it would be better to just hang out at home and watch a stupid rom-com. In the kitchen, he poured them both a glass of red wine. In Sean's drink, however, Tommy poured a vial of special white powder that he had bought online. After the powder had completely dissolved in the burgundy liquid, Tommy returned to the living room and handed Sean his glass. They settled in on the couch to watch a rom-com.

As Sean took his first big gulp of the wine, he felt a strange sensation in his body, almost like an electrical current running through his veins. At first, he thought it was just the wine making him feel a little lightheaded, but as the sensation grew stronger, he began to worry that something was seriously wrong.

He felt a sudden and intense heat spreading throughout his body. He broke out into a sweat as his muscles began to tingle and twitch. He felt an unusual energy coursing through his veins, like a current of electricity flowing through his entire body.

Sean looked down at his body to see that he was painfully erect. He shifted his gaze to his arms and gasped as he watched them bulge and expand in size. His biceps swelled, and he could see thick veins snaking across his newly defined forearms. His chest heaved with each breath, growing broader and thicker as his pectoral muscles expanded. He could feel the fabric of his shirt stretching tautly across his shoulders and chest. With one final heave, his shirt gave way, exposing his massive chest, which was now adorned with intricate tattoos.

He felt an intense pressure building in his legs. He could feel his muscles contracting and expanding, growing thicker and more defined with every passing moment. His thigh muscles swelled, pushing his dick together and sending waves of pleasure throughout his body. He could feel his calf muscles bulging outwards, growing more prominent with each passing second. He unconsciously flexed his legs, and his quad bulged out from his skin, ripping his pants and leaving him exposed in his underwear. His cock had grown considerably and was still throbbing and swelling.

As the transformation continued, Sean's skin began to bristle with hair. He could feel it prickling up all over his arms, chest, and face. His once baby-smooth skin was now covered in thick, dark hair, giving him a more rugged, masculine appearance. His cock had grown massive, straining against the front of his pants. He began thrusting into it, moaning in delight. With a deep shudder, he shot out ropes of cum which shot through his underwear, leaving a dark, wet spot. In a post-orgasmic bliss, Sean panted, trying to catch his breath.

Looking back at his massive body, he felt stronger and more powerful than he ever had before. He flexed his arm, and a huge bicep bulged out from his skin. He was amazed at the sight of it, never having seen anything like it before. Tommy couldn't take his eyes off Sean. The transformation was incredible to watch. Sean's once lanky frame was now bulging with muscles, giving him a more rugged and masculine appearance. He had never found himself attracted to Sean before, but now Sean had somehow transformed into the perfect man for him.

As Sean sat there, basking in the incredible feeling of his newfound strength and masculinity, he looked toward Tommy, whose jaw was agape. Sean smirked at his boyfriend, and his massive dick twitched in his pants. He leaned over and began to make out with Tommy. Sean guided Tommy’s hand to stroke his massive cock, as he moaned in pure ecstasy. Tommy’s hand was wet with the sticky substance, but he didn’t care; he had the man of his dreams on his couch, and he couldn’t be happier. Neither of them would be alone on Valentine’s Day ever again.

[lillian-gallows]

Kinktober Day 13: Size Kink with Charon

Pairing: Charon x Fem!Reader, Charon x Fem!Lone Wanderer Word Count: 1826 Warnings: Size Kink, Vaginal fingering, Oral (F receiving), P in V sex, Unprotected sex (Wrap it before you tap it). Kinktober Master(sub)list.

Minors DNI

It was something you were aware of from day one, just how much bigger Charon is than you. Well, not just you. He’s bigger than everyone. Taller, broader, arms and legs thicker than anyone else you’d ever seen.

Charon’s a wall of a man, a bulwark in battle, and probably the reason you’ve been able to talk so many people into better pay for the work you do for them, no one wants the big glaring wall of muscle and lead sicced on them, not that you would do that, or that he would either, but they didn’t know that.

Now, while it’s not hard for Charon to tower over most people, it’s especially easy for him to do so with you. You were the shortest in the vault even once you grew up, and you’ve not met many adults out in the wastes that were shorter than you.

And when standing side by side, your lack of height makes his abundance of it look even more so. The top of your head only barely reaches his chest, so you have to crane your neck to make eye contact. And when he stands behind you, all glaring blue eyes and thick arms crossed, you knew the pair of you were quite a sight.

He’s made jokes about how the biggest job he has is handing you things when you can’t reach them or boosting you onto better vantage points so you can snipe raiders from a distance. But there’s truth to those jokes.

There’s also the simple truth that it’s one of your favorite things about him. Knowing you have someone as large as him on your side makes you feel all the safer when you travel, and with his size comes the perk that he produces a lot of heat, so when you’re camping for the night in an old metro or out in the dunes, he can keep both of you warm through the night.

And when the pair of you started seeing each other romantically, he started to use his size advantage in more fun ways, throwing you over his shoulder to carry to bed, where he was able to hold you down and manhandle you however he saw fit while you writhed, unable to do anything but enjoy the ride, though sometimes he’d let you get on top, but even then there was no question who was in charge, what with his massive hands gripping your hips and all but moving you up and down on his cock for you.

Oh, that too. He’s proportional below the belt. That hadn’t been a surprise, but it had been an adjustment. Just his fingers had been a bit of a feat the first time you two had gone beyond a heated make-out session, taking his dick? That had taken practice.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t say and do things to get him to show off his superior reach and strength, asking him to get things off shelves you could reach if you jumped or stood on something, asking him to help you carry things that you could find a way to move on your own, but would so much rather watch his arms flex when he did it.

Tonight is one such time when you are admiring his body, but not while he was doing something for you. No, this time you were planted comfortably on your shared bed, watching him get changed to sleep, and he’s just taken his shirt off, showing off his broad muscular back.

Thick skin layered with scars, but those were entirely unable to hide the way he flexed with each movement, a layer of fat that sat over it all smoothed out the edges but didn’t detract from the power of his body but did serve to make him all the better for cuddles.

You hadn’t realized how you were staring till he turned to face you and smirked. You been rubbing your thighs together, lip drawn between your teeth, and your eyes were half lidded.

“See something you like?” He teased with a lifted brow, or where his brow would be if he had them.

His low rough voice pulled you from your musings with a jump. “Huh? Oh, you know…Always.” You answered with a coy grin, eyeing him up and down. No reason to hide it, not when he knew you well enough to see through any lie you could possibly think of, besides it was pointless to lie about wanting him.

He sauntered over to the edge of the bed, looking down at you like prey caught in his grasp, pants slung low on his hips from having taken his belt off. Then, before you could think, he was leaning over you, arms caging you in as his face came within an inch of yours. “Then maybe I oughta do something…” He breathed against your lips, maintaining enough space to keep you from leaning in like you wanted.

“Maybe you should…” You prompted, trailing a hand up his chest slowly.

That was all it took for him to be on you, lips locked and hands roaming, going from your hips to your breasts to your face and back again, like he couldn’t decide where he wanted to touch you more, but they settled for gripping the sheets on either side of your head when you pulled him closer as you laid back.

In this position it felt like he was everywhere with how he was able to wrap around you, enveloping you in his overwhelming warmth and safety.

Then his lips parted from yours to drift down your neck, teeth gazing and nipping, undoubtedly leaving little purple marks that the high neck of you Vault suit would hide, while his hands worked their way under and up your shirt to cup your breasts, brushing over your nipples till they came to delicate peaks, and when they did he was pulling your shirt the rest of the way off so his lips can press kisses to the soft skin, tongue running over the sensitive tips before giving them a suck, alternating between sides.

He stayed there, lavishing attention on your tits till you were writhing and begging for more. Then he was trialing kisses down your body till he got to your panties, already soaked through, and the low sound he made at this discovery had you clenching around nothing.

“Charon, please, stop teasing…” You whined as he continued to kiss along the hemline of the cotton fabric, blue eyes flashed up to meet yours, like he’d somehow forgotten that you were there, even though it was your body he was getting lost in.

You felt him smile against your skin as he slowly pulled your panties down your legs, tossing them to the floor over his shoulder before giving your thighs the same treatment he’d given your breasts, leaving bruises that you knew would ache deliciously tomorrow morning.

He always loved to draw things out, to watch you get all wound up and needy before giving you what you want, but this time it seemed he was as needy for you as you were for him, as he ran thick fingers between your wet folds, sighing at the feeling you had to resist the urge to buck your hips into his touch.

The slow press of two of his fingers was exactly what you needed to take the edge off, a slight stretch but not what you got from his cock, but you’d get that soon enough, for now you were too busy whimpering as he slowly massaged that sweet spot inside while his mouth lathed over your clit.

Your thighs shook as he watched you, back arching, sighing and moaning and crying his name as he drove you closer and closer to the edge, and just as you were starting to get close, cunt clenching around him and voice getting higher, he stopped, pulling his fingers and mouth from you as you let out frustrated cries that quickly died in your throat when you saw him removing his pants as fast as he could.

“Turn over.” He ordered as he shoved them down his legs.

“Huh?” You breathed; brain foggy from being denied your orgasm.

Rather than repeat himself he stepped out the pile of fabric around his ankles in the same movement as he grabbed you and flipped you onto your front, ass in the air and face pressed into the mattress.

He didn’t give you any time to react before he was pushing into you, but you weren’t complaining, not when he stretched you so perfectly and reached places you hadn’t known existed before.

Upon bottoming out he gave you a few seconds before he was pulling out to the tip, then pushing back in hard, setting a punishing pace. Not punishing because it was fast, no he was actually moving rather steadily, but because it was hard.

Each push of his hips against yours had his tip punching into your cervix and rubbing hard against your g-spot, his thighs and hips slapping against yours the only sound in the room other than your hard breathing and whimpers, and the wet sounds he was pulling from your pussy.

His grip on your hips was bruising as he pulled you back into every thrust, and you wouldn’t have been shocked to see his cock bulging from your belly if you looked down, but you couldn’t open your eyes, too lost in the pleasure.

And as quickly as he drove you to the edge with his fingers and mouth, he did the same with his cock.

Your body was alight with heat, and you were sure your face and chest were red with flush as you felt the muscles in your belly tighten with the encroaching orgasm, and it seemed Charon could feel it too as he reached around you to help it along by rubbing tight circles in your clit.

Your orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave, shivers rolling up and down your body as goose bumps bloomed, choked cries and moans spilling from your lips as your cunt clenched at his cock, dragging him down with you, shooting ropes of hot cum into you with a low growl that sent zings through your brain.

The pair of you stayed like that for a couple moments as you caught your breaths and came back to earth, and once Charon had he grabbed his shirt off the floor and used it to clean you up, tomorrow was laundry day anyway, so it wasn’t like it mattered much, then he was laying down and pulling you to his chest, thick arms wrapped around you securely, warmth radiating into you in a way a blanket never could.

Sleep came quick, and the next morning, well, you had a surprise wake up planned for him.

[re-x]

Never Have I Ever Wrecked My Future (4x04): Take off your shirt!

Happy four-month anniversary of NHIE season 4!

But come on, there’s no way Ben put on the same shirt Devi had just been wearing. His shoulders and arms are way broader, thicker, and more muscular than hers lol

[fandomficsnstuff]

The Dragon's Daughter - 15

(Warnings: Rhaella not taking any shit, angst, mentions of arranged marriages (I pick this as a warning because I believe everyone has the right to choose who they want to marry, and be allowed to do so (though of course not if they are under 18)), some more angst before a little bit of fluff, some more fluff and hint at a possible romance later on:3)

Dothraki will be in bold

High Valyrian will be in cursive

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ezzo could see the annoyance on her face as she sat on the chair, him by her side and he could see how her hands clenched and unclenched every now and then, something he has come to see as an obvious sign that she would rather be anywhere else than here, specifically on the back of a terrifying, fire-spewing creature of fire-made flesh and certain doom. She had truly grown into her looks, she always had a defiant look about her, her dragon eyes sharp and focused. Her brows were thicker than that of her mother’s, and a little more bushier, a hint of her father’s looks shining through. Her features had turned more sharp instead of soft, her cheekbones high and prominent. She had long, straight hair that was as thick as her father’s hair had been, her shoulders a little broader than her mother’s yet she was almost the same height as her, only a little shorter than the Dragon Queen. Over the years of training she had grown strong and Ezzo would bet his braid that she could arm wrestle most of these fat lords and hold her own.

He leaned down, whispering something to her that made her smirk and she pressed her lips together in a thin line to try and not laugh loudly, Ezzo leaning back with a pleased smirk on his lips as the next suitor approached. An old man. Or at least, he thought he looked old. Too old for the princess without a doubt. “Your Highness, Lord Adrian Celtigar of Claw Isle” a guard called out, Rhaella’s smile at Ezzo’s whispered words vanished and once again she was the stoic regal woman her mother had raised her to be, with pride, and he had been a part of it, he had been by her side when she saw born, when he was barely three and ten, having already earned his braid by then. If his hair had been long enough for a braid back then, of course. But now it certainly was, twelve years after Daenerys took the throne as the rightful queen she was, the rightful Khaleesi.

“Hello, Your Highness” Lord Adrian bowed low, as low as he could with his fat belly, his face red and his hair starting to fall out, causing him to go bald only at the top of his head, only further highlighting his age. “I must say, you are far more beautiful than I have ever heard, your eyes-”

“Are those of a dragon” Ezzo spoke up in broken Westerosi, Rhaella turning to him with shock, though it wasn’t an unpleasant shock in her eyes. “When did you learn to speak Westerosi?” she asked quietly, Ezzo just smirking, giving her a wink, making her scoff lightly with amusement, looking back at the lord “forgive him, My Lord, he is still learning the common tongue” Rhaella stated politely, biting the inside of her cheek whenever she spoke a lie of some kind, making Ezzo smirk again. “I see, Your Highness, I will admit that I don’t quite understand keeping a savage at your side, many of these-... horse-lords have returned to where they belong, one would think we’d have driven them all out by now” he joked, looking around, a few people snickering and Rhaella’s polite smile faded, her abruptly standing up making the entire hall quiet. She picked up the skirt of her dress to walk down the steps of the podium, hands folded in front of her as she stood in front of the long, long line of suitors “every man who thought that amusing. Leave. I have no time for those who are unappreciative of unusual or different things, or different cultures. Ezzo is my sworn sword and shield. He, and his people, will be treated with the respect they deserve, if you cannot accept the unusual, you have no right to ask for my hand in marriage. I am Targaryen, I am the dragon’s daughter, I am anything but the normal” she stated loudly, turning to a guard, giving a brief nod and every man who had snickered, including Lord Adrian, was escorted out, much to everyone’s shock. She studied the now completely silent room, taking a subtle but deep breath, letting it out just as subtly before beginning to walk towards the exit, everyone immediately parting for her, creating a path, some taking a step away when Ezzo walked by her side, glaring at them all. “You didn’t tell me you could speak Westerosi” she said as she walked outside with him, Ezzo smirking “maybe I wanted to surprise you” he whispered teasingly, noticing the light blush on her cheeks as she scoffed, shaking her head with amusement “you succeeded” she whispered back, smirking at him over her shoulder before continuing towards the carriage, a small groan leaving her. “I am allowed to ride a dragon, but not my own horse… seems quite illogical” she muttered, making Ezzo chuckle “what is stopping you?”

“I have no horse to ride?” she retorted with raised eyebrows, making Ezzo smirk again, his smirk making her frown and lean back a little, narrowing her eyes at him but before she could say anything, he stepped aside, gesturing to his own horse and she narrowed her eyes even more at him, sighing softly “you are cruel to tempt me, you know I can’t” she hissed, hinting at the sight of her sitting behind or in front of a man on a horse who was her sworn shield and not her husband or betrothed, Ezzo just shrugging “I will walk” his words made her entire demeanor change, her gaze softening “you would do that, for me?”

“I would die for you” he whispered softly, watching once again as that blush made it’s way to her cheeks as she approached the horse and his entire expression softened when she gently walked up to the horse, petting it’s neck, whispering praises in High Valyrian with a smile, his heart racing at the sight. She had truly grown up, she was a woman grown now, nine and ten. He understood, though loathed, all the men desiring her. Her silver hair was so long it almost reached her hips when loose, the few times he had been fortunate enough to see it loose. Intricate braids had pulled it up to just under her shoulders. He had been aware of the desperate ache to braid those braids himself for quite a while, yet he did nothing about it, willingly. She deserved better.

“Well? Are you coming or not?” she asked with a smirk, Ezzo noticing that she had already saddled up, both legs on one side of the horse thanks to the wrong attire, her dress would ride up and probably expose far more than he wanted anyone else to see. He smirked and tilted his head up at her “I am walking, remember?” he asked and she seemed almost disappointed, nodding before gesturing to the carriage, making her smirk when he lightly glared at her

“Oh please, you would die for me, but not ride in a carriage?” she asked teasingly, Ezzo hesitating before whistling, nodding a Queensgarde over, nodding him off the horse which just made Rhaella chuckle. The Queensgarde was unmoving until Ezzo got impatient, cursing in Dothraki which is when Rhaella stepped in, ordering him off the horse and Ezzo quickly saddled up, before the poor guard was barely off. “Ride in the carriage, all that armor must be heavy” Rhaella said softly, the guard hesitantly doing as ordered, Ezzo smirking at her. “Home?” Ezzo asked in a broken accent, Rhaella smiling, giving him a big grin, with teeth and everything, looking utterly adorable in his opinion “home” she agreed before taking flight.

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Rhaella was quiet as she stood under the shelter, eyes locked on the sea, hands clasped in front of herself, a frown on her silver brows, her golden eyes scanning the sea, the way the sun glistened on the surface of the water, almost blinding her. Ezzo approached quietly, sneaking up on her, trying to suppress his grin as he finally reached her, his hands briefly making contact with her hips, Ezzo leaning back as she threw her elbow up out of instinct, which he knew she would. She pushed him once she saw it was him, trying to deny the smile on her lips “you scared me!” she snapped yet with a grin, Ezzo just smirking at her as she turned back to watch the sea. Ezzo studied her before leaning down briefly “what are you thinking?” he asked in a quiet voice from behind her, unaware of the shiver that ran down her back, Ezzo walking around her to lean and sit on the half-wall that faced the sea, effectively sitting a little in front of her. She sighed softly, looking down at her hands as she played with her fingers to occupy herself as her mind raced. “That I won’t have a choice… that I will never truly have a choice” she admitted quietly, turning around and sitting down on the half-wall next to him, Ezzo studying her with concern “the suitors?” he asked, watching her nod with that same frown. “Yes… I feel as though I am being sold, like I have no meaning but to-... be forced to submit to a man” she admitted with anger, her golden eyes fixated on the ground in front of her, Ezzo hesitating before putting a strand of hair behind her ear that had been tugged loose, his finger lingering on her cheek, her eyes lifting to lock with his, even after he dropped his hand. “What worries you the most?”

“The age. They’re all-... fat lords! Fat, old lords or children! They’re all either old enough to be my grandfather or young enough to be my son!”

“Son?”

“Maybe not that, but definitely too young! One of the houses asked for my hand in marriage to their son, Wyllis… He is three!” she revealed with anger, Ezzo chuckling with amusement, shaking his head as he looked ahead, shrugging “so, what is too much, what is too little?” he asked and Rhaella looked ahead, deep in thought, giving him an opportunity to admire her closely without her noticing. If she looked at him, he’d simply play it off as him waiting for an answer.

“Well, under five-and-ten is much too young! Actually, make that anyone under six-and-ten… and too old?... I-I… not over-... twenty?” she asked cautiously, looking at Ezzo who nodded with a smirk “then you have narrowed the possibilities considerably” he stated and Rhaella rolled her eyes with amusement, nudging him with her elbow, making him look at her, a genuine smile on her lips “thank you” she said softly, knowing he knew what it meant, a smile of his own on his lips as he nodded in return.

“I don’t want to marry” Rhaella whispered in a worried voice, Ezzo frowning, his hand coming up to gently cup her cheek, his thumb gently brushing across her cheekbone, her golden eyes, their slit pupils, they always took his breath away. “Then you won’t” he said, making her smile a little “I will not accept, hm?” he asked and Rhaella nodded, leaning into his touch, leaning her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes, enjoying the calm of it all, the gulls calling out, flying above them, the soft smell of the roses and flowers around them. “Do you miss Essos?” she asked suddenly, her eyes opening, staring ahead, at nothing in particular, Ezzo doing the same, tilting his head to lay it against hers, sighing softly “I miss the sun on my skin. I miss the dust. The sand… I miss the open plains, the Great Grass Sea…” he admitted, Rhaella smiling softly “it sounds lovely… I wish I could remember it…” she admitted, Ezzo smirking a little at the thought of her riding with him through the Great Grass Sea.

It wasn’t long until he felt her shiver a little, lifting his head to look down at her before nudging her to stand up, nodding towards the castle and she nodded, walking back with him.

Daenerys watched from her balcony, a frown on her brows, her hand moving to her swollen belly as she watched them, Jon appearing at her side, gently wrapping an arm around her waist. “Perhaps there is another match?” he asked, Daenerys turning to look at him, thinking it through. “The Dothraki are-... different-”

“So is Ezzo” Jon pointed out, Daenerys smiling softly in agreement “he is… but still… a Westerosi match would help her claim to the throne, the other lords and ladies-”

“The other lords and ladies, they don’t matter-”

“Jon-”

“They don’t. Rhaella is your daughter, your child. The Iron Throne is hers, by right of birth and blood, she is the next Queen. She is like you, so would you prefer to marry for love, or politics?” Jon asked and she hesitated before sighing “she is too much like me sometimes…” Daenerys noted, Jon chuckling briefly with a small smirk “as opposed to her father?”

“You raised her-”

“Aye, I did, with you, and I’d do anything to do it all over again, to do the same things, because I love her like she’s my own. But there will always be her father in her, and I’m glad for that. It gives her a strength I’ve only seen in your dragons” Jon admitted, Daenerys sighing softly, gently kissing him before shaking her head “it still stands…” she whispered, worry evident in her eyes “she will marry a Westerosi noble… or they won’t support her when she takes the throne, and she needs the support of the Westerosi to actually rule Westeros” Daenerys explained, Jon sighing, looking down as he nodded, disagreeing but accepting her final verdict. When they had gotten married, many thought he’d take the throne. No one truly knew of his inheritance, his true blood, even though he abandoned it, yet people still thought a ‘bastard’ was better suited than a trueborn woman, but over her reign there was peace. True peace. Sansa Stark was Wardeness of the North, Gendry was Lord Baratheon of Storm’s End and Warden of the South. Robin Arryn ruled the Vale as Warden of the East. Tyrion was still a Lannister, he was her hand, yet also a Lannister, thus Casterly Rock was his as he served as Warden of the West, his nephew, Cersei’s last child while she rotted in the dungeons of the Red Keep, under his careful watch and care. Tobin Martell ruled Dorne, house Tully ruled the Riverlands and so on and so on. The land of Highgarden had been given to the great-great-grand cousin of Mace Tyrell, Lord Arren Tyrell, their sigil the same but now with a few thorns around their golden rose on the green field.

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

By now, Rhaella wasn’t even paying attention to all the men standing in that line, waiting to boast about themselves to her. She was looking at them, acknowledging them, only to dismiss them, fake politeness and thank them for their words before calling on the next person. This continued for two hours. Until one man stepped forward. “Lord Tyres Westford” the guard announced, Rhaella still barely showing any interest beyond what was absolutely necessary. “Your Highness,” he bowed his head before looking at Ezzo, frowning ever so slightly and Rhaella caught on that he didn’t know the Dothraki’s name, “Ezzo” she spoke, trying to hide the boredom in her tone, Tyres smiling and bowing his head at Ezzo with genuine respect, at least it looked genuine, but it certainly caught Rhaella’s attention “Lord Ezzo,” he raised back up, hands folded awkwardly in front of him “I suppose this is where I tell you of how many tournaments I’ve won?” he asked jokingly, a few people in the hall chuckling, yet a bored expression was still on Rhaella’s face “but you don’t care” Tyres noted with narrowed eyes before nodding to himself “why should you? It’s not like we’d duel” he stated, mostly to himself but it made quite a few people snicker with amusement, a frown forming on Rhaella’s brows “and what makes you think that? Perhaps a duel is how I’d prefer to choose my husband. Are you saying women can’t duel?”

“No, they most certainly can, as the commander of the Queensgarde has proven multiple times, they even say she fought the Hound, and won! I only meant that, to my knowledge, we are not to duel” he admitted, Rhaella narrowing her eyes at him before tilting her head, leaning a bit closer “and what if that were what I’d ask of you? A duel?” the people in the hall began to murmur and whisper in shock at her words. There were now women in the Queensgarde and with the Maesters at the Citadel, but a princess who could fight? Dueling, no less? With a man?

“Your wish is my command, Your Highness. If you wish a duel, you shall have it, so long as you don’t expect that I will go easy on you” he joked lightly, Rhaella smirking as she leaned back in her chair “good, then I won’t either. Noon, tomorrow, here, in this hall. The one who first draws blood, wins” she declared with a smirk, getting up as people whispered and mumbled, parting from her as she walked away, Tyres watching with a smirk, the way her scales glistened in the light, peeking out over her shoulders, making themselves known. Her dress had a small opening in the back and he could see the scales every time her hair swayed to one side or the other, revealing those blinding silver scales of a dragon.

[guysgetbigger]

Sympathy Santa (3 of 12)

Sarah eyed Ethan with a mix of amusement and concern. He squeezed into a favorite T-shirt, the fabric straining against his biceps like a flag about to burst. Sweat glistened on his broad forehead, and a smattering of new dark hairs adorned his chest, peeking cheekily above the neckline.

"Honey," she began, choosing her words carefully, "the gym seems to be… different than expected."

Ethan, struggling to pull the shirt down, chuckled. "Different how?"

"Well," Sarah hedged, "you're definitely bigger. Stronger, even. But I thought we were aiming for, you know, less soft and cuddly, more sleek and toned."

Ethan looked down at his reflection in the mirror. Sarah was right. Gone was the doughy Santa Claus physique of a few months ago. In its place stood a formidable figure, his shoulders wider, his arms thicker, his belly softer yet defined by the faint outlines of underlying muscle. His beard, now neatly trimmed, framed a face softened by contentment and maybe, just maybe, a hint of mischievousness.

"Maybe I'm just bulking up before I cut," he offered, but even to his own ears, it sounded weak. The truth was, he enjoyed the way his body felt – powerful, substantial, a stark contrast to Derek's slim frame. He savored the way Derek's eyes lingered on his arms, the way his hand brushed against his belly during casual greetings.

Derek, ever present in the room, chimed in with a sly grin. "Don't listen to her, Ethan. You look fantastic. Like a… grizzly bear in a waiting room."

Sarah shot him a playful glare, but couldn't deny the truth in his words. Ethan did radiate a certain primal magnetism, a rugged handsomeness that seemed to enthrall Derek no end.

Over the next few weeks, Ethan embraced his transformation. He lifted heavier, ate hungrier, and reveled in the changes his body underwent. His appetite, fueled by Derek's protein concoctions, seemed insatiable. He devoured mountains of food, his belly expanding to accommodate the feast, yet never losing its firm, inviting roundness.

Derek, in turn, became increasingly bold. He'd linger during workouts, offering "encouragement" that felt suspiciously like thinly veiled admiration. He'd compliment Ethan's "strength," his "beautiful bear belly," his "mountain of a man" physique. And Ethan, basking in the unexpected attention, found himself indulging in it.

He'd flex for Derek, showing off the increasing definition in his arms. He'd wear looser shirts, offering tantalizing glimpses of his growing belly. He'd even, on occasion, catch Derek staring, his gaze lingering on the soft curve of his stomach a little too long, a little too intently.

One night, after a particularly grueling workout, Ethan and Derek found themselves sharing a beer on the porch. The air crackled with unspoken electricity, the weight of their shared secret hanging heavy between them.

"You know," Derek murmured, his voice husky, "you're not just strong, Ethan. You're… comfortable." He reached out, his hand hovering over Ethan's belly for a moment before settling on his bicep. The touch sent a jolt through Ethan, a tremor of desire igniting deep within him.

Ethan met Derek's gaze, his heart pounding in his chest. In that moment, under the soft glow of the porch light, he knew the path he was treading led to uncharted territory, a forbidden land of desire and pleasure. And as he leaned into Derek's touch, the weight on his belly not just a symbol of his changing body but of a yearning neither of them could deny, he knew this was just the beginning of a journey neither of them were prepared for, a journey where strength and softness would collide in a delicious dance of forbidden passion.

—

Ethan lumbered through the office doors, feeling like a heavily laden Santa Claus navigating a summer heatwave. His once trim athletic frame had morphed into something altogether different – broader, thicker, undeniably bigger. His belly, now a prominent shelf beneath his clothes, jiggled gently with each step, a testament to late-night cookie raids and the unspoken encouragement of a certain gym buddy.

As he shuffled past his colleagues, their greetings took on a new, amused flavor. "Morning, Santa!" boomed Bob from accounting, his eyes twinkling with good-natured mirth. "Baby got you carrying some extra weight there, eh?"

Ethan chuckled, patting his belly self-consciously. "Seems fatherhood has its… unique perks," he admitted, trying to shrug off the teasing but secretly enjoying the attention.

"Don't worry, Ethan," chimed in Susan, his coworker and secret confidante. "You're just filling out your dad bod. Makes you look… cuddly."

The word, usually reserved for kittens and teddy bears, sent a strange warmth through Ethan. Cuddly? Him? He glanced at his reflection in the water cooler, surprised by the unfamiliar sight. Gone was the lean, defined physique of his pre-baby days. In its place stood a man who commanded attention not through chiseled abs but through sheer physical presence. His arms, though not bulging with sculpted muscle, were thick and powerful. His chest, broad and expansive, strained against his button-down shirt. And his belly, oh, his belly – it was no longer a soft indulgence, but a prominent feature, a symbol of his newfound domesticity and, perhaps, something more.

As the day wore on, the comments continued. Women in the break room complimented his "teddy bear arms." Guys in the IT department marveled at his "growing tree trunk physique." Even the ever-stoic Mr. Jones from upper management offered a gruff, "Looking mighty hefty these days, Ethan."

Ethan couldn't help but grin. The attention, once unwanted, now fueled a strange sense of satisfaction. He reveled in the way his presence filled doorways, the way chairs creaked slightly beneath his weight. He even found humor in the occasional mishap – like the time he bumped his belly into a filing cabinet, eliciting a chorus of good-natured laughter and surprised exclamations about his girth.

Later that evening, as he changed into his gym clothes, Derek's words echoed in his mind: "You're not just strong, Ethan. You're… comfortable." The memory sent a shiver down his spine. Comfortable. Yes, that was it. His new size wasn't just about indulgence; it was about a newfound ease, a confidence that stemmed from being seen, appreciated, desired for something entirely different than his former self.

As he stepped onto the treadmill, the weight on his belly not a burden but a badge of honor, Ethan knew his transformation was far from over. He was no longer just a dad, a husband, an employee. He was Ethan, the big, the comfortable, the undeniably heftier version of himself. And he wouldn't have it any other way, for in his growing size, he had discovered a new kind of strength, a new kind of magnetism, a new kind of himself that was just beginning to blossom, one appreciative glance, one playful bump, one delicious curve at a time.

—

Ethan lay sprawled on their bed, Sarah nestled comfortably against his broad chest. The soft glow of the bedside lamp cast long shadows across his expansive belly, now a familiar weight that brought him quiet satisfaction. They'd just finished making love, the afterglow painting a contented smile on his face.

"Mmm," Sarah sighed, tracing lazy circles on his chest with her finger. "You're like a giant teddy bear, Ethan."

His smile faltered. Teddy bear? The playful endearment, once a welcome source of amusement, now felt oddly… diminutive. He glanced down at his stomach, the dim light highlighting the soft curve beneath his T-shirt. It wasn't just a belly anymore; it was a statement, a testament to his changed physique, his newfound size.

He cleared his throat, trying to brush off the unease that settled in his gut. "Teddy bear, huh?"

"Yeah," Sarah murmured, oblivious to his shift in mood. "All big and strong and… cuddly."

The word, laden with unintended lightness, felt like a pinprick to his burgeoning sense of pride. Was that all she saw him as? Just a big, soft thing to snuggle with? He swallowed, the lump in his throat growing larger.

"Is that a bad thing?" he asked, his voice strained.

Sarah, sensing his sudden tension, turned to face him, concern clouding her gaze. "What's wrong, Ethan?"

He hesitated, unsure how to articulate the jumble of emotions churning within him. The pride in his strength, the quiet pleasure in his expanded size, the growing insecurity fueled by Sarah's seemingly offhand remark.

Finally, he blurted out, "Do you… not like it? My size?"

His question hung in the air, heavy and uncertain. Sarah's eyes widened in surprise, and he braced himself for her answer, fearing rejection, a dismissal of the body he had come to embrace.

"Oh, Ethan," she whispered, cupping his face in her gentle hands. "No, that's not it at all. I love you, all of you. Every curve, every inch."

Relief washed over him, warm and sweet. But a sliver of doubt remained. "Then why the teddy bear comment?"

She bit her lip, searching for the right words. "It's just… different," she admitted. "You used to be…" she paused, struggling to find the right word, "leaner, maybe?"

Her honesty, though painful, was appreciated. He squeezed her hand, gratitude and lingering insecurity warring within him. "And you don't like different?"

"No, no," she reassured him, her voice laced with tenderness. "It's just an adjustment. I was so used to the old you, the athlete, the… lean Ethan."

He closed his eyes, picturing that version of himself – agile, toned, devoid of the comfortable roundness he now wore with pride. A pang of longing flickered within him, a yearning for the familiar comfort of her earlier affection.

Yet, as he opened his eyes and met her gaze, the warmth in her eyes dispelled the shadows of doubt. He saw acceptance, appreciation, and yes, perhaps a hint of surprise at the new man he had become.

He leaned in, kissing her softly, the kiss conveying more than just affection. It was a silent promise, a reassurance that he would navigate this new terrain with her, that they would rediscover intimacy, redefine their connection in the face of his changing body.

As they drifted back to sleep, Ethan's body, once a source of insecurity, now felt like a symbol of their evolving relationship. He was different, yes, but that didn't mean he was any less desirable, any less loved. He was still Ethan, just a bigger, bolder version of himself, and he was ready to explore this new chapter, this delicious dance of size and acceptance, with Sarah by his side, one shared embrace, one reassuring touch, one blossoming curve at a time.

—

The scent of sweat and freshly cut wood hung heavy in the air as Ethan wiped his brow, the afternoon sun beating down on his broad back. He'd been helping his dad with a landscaping project, and his muscles ached pleasantly from the exertion.

"Looking mighty hefty, son," his dad boomed, clapping him on the shoulder. Ethan chuckled, the fabric of his T-shirt straining against his biceps. "Yeah, I've been putting in some extra work at the gym."

His dad raised an eyebrow, a hint of surprise in his eyes. "Gym, huh? Or maybe those cookies Sarah keeps baking?"

Ethan grinned, the memory of Derek's protein shakes and late-night snacking sessions bringing a warm blush to his cheeks. "Maybe a bit of both," he admitted.

They continued their work, Ethan's newfound strength surprising even his father. He hauled heavy logs with ease, his thick arms rippling with newfound definition. His dad, a man of no small stature himself, watched with amusement.

"Never thought you'd outgrow me, boy," he chuckled, a hint of pride in his voice.

Ethan felt a surge of warmth. His dad, always the stoic figure, rarely expressed such emotions. He flexed his arm playfully. "Guess there's more to me than meets the eye, eh?"

Later, as they soaked in the hot tub, the tension of the day easing away, his dad's gaze drifted over Ethan's body. "You're a hairy beast, son," he remarked, a chuckle rumbling in his chest. "Where'd all that fur come from?"

Ethan ran a hand over his chest, the dark expanse of hair tickling his palm. "Guess it's just part of the package now," he said, a hint of self-consciousness creeping in.

His dad patted his shoulder. "Maybe a trim wouldn't hurt," he suggested, a playful glint in his eyes. "You look like a bear who wandered into a hot tub."

Ethan laughed, the image conjuring a surprising sense of amusement. He knew his size, especially his belly, had become a topic of discussion, even concern, at times. Sarah had mentioned it, and even Derek, with his unwavering admiration, had hinted at moderation.

His dad's gaze softened. "You know, son," he said, his voice serious, "all this weight… it's great you're feeling strong, but have you thought about getting checked out? Diabetes, blood pressure, stuff like that?"

Ethan flinched, the lighthearted mood momentarily shattered. He knew his dad was right. The weight gain had been rapid, fueled by indulgence and a shift in his lifestyle. He hadn't thought about the potential health consequences.

"I'll look into it," he promised, his voice laced with a newfound resolve.

As they sat in silence for a moment, the warm water swirling around them, Ethan realized his transformation wasn't just physical. It was a wake-up call, a reminder to take care of himself, not just for his own sake, but for the people who loved him, who saw him not just as a big, hairy bear, but as their son, their friend, their Ethan.

He looked at his dad, his eyes filled with gratitude and a newfound determination. He might be bigger, hairier, and rounder than ever, but he wouldn't let it define him. He would embrace his new shape, find a balance between strength and health, and continue to grow, not just physically, but as a man, a husband, a son. And in that quiet moment, amidst the steam and the soft gurgle of the hot tub, Ethan knew he was on the right path, one step, one embrace, one delicious curve at a time.

—

Ethan fidgeted nervously as he followed his dad into the doctor's office. The weight that had brought amusement from his dad the day before now felt heavy with unspoken concern. Dr. Evans, a handsome man with athletic grace, greeted them with a warm smile.

"Well, Mr. Miller," he chuckled, clapping Ethan on the shoulder, "your son here is like a scaled-up version of you! Come on in, you big bear."

Ethan felt his cheeks flush. The nickname, playful from his dad, felt condescending coming from this stranger. He climbed onto the examination table, self-consciously pulling off his shirt, revealing the expanse of his hairy chest and the soft mound of his belly.

Dr. Evans, his demeanor professional yet friendly, took Ethan's vitals and blood sugar. To Ethan's relief, everything seemed normal. The doctor then turned his attention to Ethan's physique.

"Impressive muscle tone," he remarked, running his hands over Ethan's arms and shoulders. "You've been hitting the gym?"

Ethan nodded, a flicker of pride battling with the niggling feeling of being objectified.

"Just trying to bulk up a bit," he mumbled, his eyes drifting to the doctor's lean frame, a silent reminder of his own former, thinner self, the self Sarah had been so drawn to.

Dr. Evans's smile faltered slightly as his gaze landed on Ethan's belly. He gently lifted the soft mass with both hands, his touch impersonal yet strangely intimate.

"Quite a bit of padding here too," he remarked. "Tell me about your diet and exercise routine, Mr. Miller."

Ethan described his gym sessions, conveniently forgetting to mention Derek's protein shakes and late-night cookie raids. Shame pricked at him, fueled by the doctor's concerned expression.

"It's important to find a balance between building muscle and managing your weight," Dr. Evans advised. "I recommend adjusting your diet and incorporating more cardio into your workout routine."

Ethan listened, nodding politely, but the doctor's words echoed with unintended judgment. He felt a surge of defiance, a resentment he couldn't quite place. Maybe it was the doctor's effortless good looks, a stark contrast to Ethan's current self. Maybe it was the reminder of Sarah's past affection for his leaner physique.

Leaving the doctor's office, the afternoon sun felt oppressive. The playful nickname "big bear" now felt like a cage, a label he wasn't sure he wanted to wear. He glanced at his dad, his own sturdy build a testament to years of hard work, not indulgence.

A new resolve settled within Ethan. He wouldn't shrink back to fit an ideal, neither his old self nor the doctor's. He would find his own balance, embrace his changing body, and prove that strength and size could coexist with health and happiness. It wouldn't be easy, but with his dad's support and a newfound determination, Ethan was ready to chart his own course, one delicious curve, one confident stride, one redefined expectation at a time.

—

Ethan swung open the front door, a familiar wave of domestic contentment washing over him. Then he saw him. A young man, no older than 25, athletic, and undeniably handsome, was wrestling with their wonky screen door, muscles taut beneath his T-shirt. Sarah, perched on a stepladder, offered instructions with a smile that, Ethan couldn't help but notice, lingered just a beat too long on the handyman's biceps.

Jealousy, a serpent he thought he'd banished, reared its ugly head. He cleared his throat, the sound heavy and unwelcome. Sarah spun around, relief flooding her face at the sight of him.

"Ethan!" she exclaimed, relief replaced by a touch of fluster. "This is Mark, he's fixing the screen door."

Ethan extended a hand, his grip a tad firmer than usual. "Ethan," he said, forcing a smile. "Thanks for coming out, Mark."

Mark returned the handshake, his gaze flicking curiously at Ethan's broad frame. "No problem, sir. Should be all fixed in a jiffy."

As Mark expertly repaired the door, Ethan found himself lingering nearby, unable to tear his eyes away from the play of muscles beneath the man's shirt. He felt a pang of longing for his own former physique, the lean, toned body Sarah used to adore.

When Mark finally finished, Sarah slipped him a bill, her fingers brushing his briefly. The gesture, innocent in itself, sent another jolt of jealousy through Ethan. He forced a smile as Mark thanked them and took his leave.

Dinner that night was a quiet affair. Ethan found himself shoveling food onto his plate, his appetite insatiable. The weight sat heavy in his stomach, a physical manifestation of the unease swirling within him. He unbuttoned his pants, the pressure on his belly becoming oppressive. His shirt felt hot too, and he loosened the top buttons, revealing the expanse of his chest and the beginnings of his beard trailing down to his belly.

Derek, across from him, watched silently, his gaze drawn to the newly exposed skin. There was a hunger in his eyes, a mix of possessiveness and admiration that sent a delicious shiver down Ethan's spine.

Later that night, after Sarah had retired, Ethan found himself drawn to Derek. They ended up on the couch, a tangle of limbs and unspoken desire. Derek's hands, usually tentative, roamed freely over Ethan's body, exploring the new curves and planes with unbridled curiosity. He traced the lines of Ethan's belly, marveling at the softness, the gentle jiggle with each breath.

"You're so big," Derek whispered, his voice husky with awe. "Like a giant teddy bear."

Ethan, instead of feeling self-conscious, felt a surge of pride. He wasn't the lean athlete he used to be, but he was powerful, substantial, a haven for Derek's smaller frame. He leaned into Derek's touch, relishing the way his eyes devoured every inch of him.

Their lovemaking that night was different, charged with a new level of intensity. Derek, emboldened by Ethan's newfound size, explored him with a confidence he'd never shown before. He kissed his belly, whispering sweet nothings against the soft skin. He traced the path of his beard, his lips trailing down to Ethan's chest, where he lapped at the expanse of skin with almost reverent hunger.

Ethan, fueled by Derek's desire, reveled in his own newfound sensuality. He groaned with pleasure as Derek's hands kneaded his thick thighs, as his mouth explored the hidden folds of his belly. He felt powerful, desirable, like a feast laid out for Derek's enjoyment.

Later, as they lay entwined, the echoes of their passion still lingering in the air, Ethan knew something had shifted. His size, which had initially triggered insecurity, had become a bridge to a deeper intimacy with Derek. He was no longer just Sarah's husband, the father of their child. He was Ethan, the big, the comfortable, the object of Derek's insatiable desire. And in that realization, he found not just acceptance, but a whole new world of pleasure waiting to be explored, one delicious curve, one hungry kiss, one intimate touch at a time.

[odetojeons]

Will You Punish Me If I Don’t? — Jeon Wonwoo

request:  a lil drunk reader × possessive wonu angry sex pls

tags: fem and brat!reader, dom!wonwoo, edging, semi-public sex, angry sex, rough sex, oral sex (f receiving), a tiiiiiny bit of light degradation and spit kink, unprotected sex (stay safe), wall sex (oh yes you read that right), a whole lot of dirty talk, JEON WONWOO IN A CROP TOP BYE, established jeon wonwoo x reader

a/n: this took me a whole fucking day to write it 💀 i think my soul left my body on the meantime and now i’m just a spirit,, but i love this so much, pls, possessive wonu is one of the biggest moods ever 🥵 also i’m sure i made a lot of stupid grammar mistakes that i didn’t realize even after proof reading it, so you’re just gonna,, pretend you don’t see those :)) i hope you enjoy, i made this with all my heart JDJSJDJS

word count:  6244

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You know very well you’re being annoying and petty today.

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You both have been on this damn party for a while and you tried to get Wonwoo to leave and fuck you for at least five times now. You tried dirty dancing on the dance floor; nope. You tried sitting on his lap when he was talking to his friends; nope. You even tried to make out with him; but it only had lasted for a few minutes.

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It had you even more horny and angry. And that is never a good combination when it comes to you.

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But can people really blame you when Wonwoo is looking that good? You have been making a great amount of effort not to stare too much at Wonwoo’s abs peeking from his black cropped shirt, the sharpness of his V-line more visible than it should be legally allowed — it’s bad for your poor heart after all. But you do a poor job of hiding how the whole outfit affects you, because Wonwoo was looking and he had this known glint swimming inside his eyes and it’s got you licking your lips. 

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But still, he didn’t do anything.

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Well, not until you used your last resort.

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Your mind threw back to the memory of Wonwoo’s big hand resting on your inner thigh earlier when you were sitting in his lap, the veins in the back of his palm tracing a dirty path up to his forearms. And there’s always a strength, even a possessiveness in the way he holds you, his other hand squeezing a little hard against your waist, grip tightening every time someone stares at you for a second too long. There’s something so raw in the way he acts, like it’s almost unconscious, and it turns you on without a doubt.

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No matter how you looked at other people and tried to rile him up, Wonwoo still remained in his stupid composed behavior, this little acts being the only proof of his jealousy. 

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But not tonight. Tonight you were going to make him snap, no matter what. You were gonna make him fuck you rough and fast and give you as many orgasms as you wanted.

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Oh, but you were so wrong. Things totally backfired at you.

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You started by going into the dance floor again, after a few shots of some liquid courage. Swaying your hips at the beat, you tried your best to throw sultry looks at where he was sitting — manspreading, your brain unfortunately added, because he looked so hot doing that — in one of the sofas, eyes set on you like you’re the only thing that he could ever look at.

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You smirked, pleased with his reaction, before proceeding with your plan. Hands reaching forward, you touched the shoulder of the first guy you saw in front of you. It doesn’t take long for him to turn around and smile. He seemed genuinely nice, so you felt a little bad for using him to make your boyfriend jealous, but when you looked at him the guilt disappeared in two seconds.

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His head was hung low, eyebrows frown and fists clenched in where he supported his arms on the sofa. You winked at him and clearly saw how he seemed to almost visibly snarl at your teasing, knowing very well what was your intent with all of that; Wonwoo looked at you like he was about to consume you whole in front of everyone just to prove who you belonged to — and you felt your legs tremble at the idea of that.

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It was a game to see who would give in first; you to your frustration and horniness or Wonwoo to his possessives and jealousy. You couldn’t stop staring at him, the both of you shooting daggers into each other, especially when you turned your back to the guy and swayed your hips obscenely for him. 

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But it was when he put his hand on your waist and glued his lips to your ear that things started taking a turn of events; in the next second, Wonwoo was standing right beside you. The air grew thicker quickly, and your breath was knocked out of you at the sight of your — very pissed off and very hot — boyfriend looking down at you. 

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“What do you think you’re doing?” Wonwoo’s voice had rang through your ears, loud enough to make you mewl softly even through all the music going on in the background.

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“Dancing?” you asked with fake innocence, batting your eyelashes at him. Wonwoo groaned, grabbing your wrist.

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“Um,” the guy from before started. “I think I should be going now?”

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He waited for an answer, but you and Wonwoo were too busy looking at each other intensively to even care, so he cleared his throat and left.

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“Let’s go,” he stated simply, pulling at you through the crowd so you both could go outside. You giggle a little when you trip on your foot, a bit tipsy with the shots you took.

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And that’s how you find yourself currently being guided until you were both right in front of his car. Your mouth opens, ready to make a clever comment that would surely rile him up and give in to what you want, before he turns around and gets all over your personal space, so suddenly that the words get stuck in your throat. The scent of his cedarwood cologne invades your lungs, sending your mind into a little haze.

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“What were you thinking, letting another man touch you?” Wonwoo says, voice rough and firm, lips pressed into a thin line like he was still holding something back.

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And you don’t want him to.

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“You took too long, and I have needs,” you retort, stepping up into his space too, not wanting to back down even when the sight of Wonwoo’s dark, dark eyes bleeding with lust made a very noticeable shiver run down your spine.

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“What kind of need would even make you want to rub yourself all over someone else that—” he stops himself, closing his mouth before groaning, annoyed. You smirk at him, knowing what he was going to say.

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All over someone else that isn’t me.

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“Hmm, let me see,” you giggle, face centimeters apart from his, your breaths mingling with each other. “A need to get fucked hard, for starters.”

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The intensity of his gaze growing exponentially dark wipes the smile off your face in seconds. You try not to gulp when he scoffs, taking one messy step back when he takes one further.

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“So that’s what this is about?” Wonwoo questions, tone suddenly mean and sarcastic, and there’s heat licking and pooling at your lower belly faster than you expected. His deep voice never fails to leave you trembling. “You’re so desperate to get railed that you couldn’t even wait to get home before throwing yourself at some random dude.”

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Your cheeks tint red in shame and arousal, realizing this wasn’t a question. It was an affirmation, like he knows exactly how horny you are, and you try to remain composed. You are not going to give up until he loses it.

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“Maybe,” you say, a single finger trailing through his torso distractingly, and you don’t even try to hide your hunger when you look at his abs peeking from behind his cropped. Wonwoo’s face hardens at that, and you smile internally in victory. “Why? Are you jealous, baby?”

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He laughs, throwing his head back, but it only serves to make you even more satisfied. That’s exactly the reaction you expected him to have.

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“You’re drunk,” Wonwoo answers instead, and you think it’s endearing how he denies so hard that he’s not possessive.

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“Nope,” you press your finger in his chest again, but he doesn’t even buge from the place. Fuck, that’s hot, you think, licking your lips and watching Wonwoo’s eyes zeroing in the action. “A little bit tipsy? Yes. But drunk? Not at all.”

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Suddenly, you back away, trying to ignore the way your body protests against the lack of warmth, the lack of Wonwoo.

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“So if you’re not jealous, then you wouldn’t mind me getting off with someone else, right?” you trail off, feeling proud of yourself when he looks at you like you just made something emerge from the ground with psychic powers.

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“What?” he asks, tone furious, and you jump a little in place with the intensity of it, but soon recovers with a pout.

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“I mean,” you start, acting like you’re not saying the biggest stupid thing you could ever think of saying, shrugging at him. Of course it was all a lie, there’s no way you’ll ever want someone else other than Wonwoo. “You’re always telling me to wait and wait and wait, so if you’re not that jealous, then maybe I should get someone else to fuck me when you can’t.”

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Wonwoo moves so fast your brain takes a time to understand what he just did; in a second you were standing with your glorious bratty attitude, the next you were pushed against the car, one hand squeezing your jaw tight in place and the other holding your wrists behind your back. His bigger and broader body pins yours against the door, and you have a hard time breathing now.

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Now that’s a way to sober up.

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“No,” he grits out, sounding more like a growl than an actual word. Your heart is hammering like crazy against your chest, and you gasp softly when he pushes your jaw backwards until the back of your head hits the car, neck exposed for him. “No one should be allowed to touch you like this. No one but me. No one.”

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Then Wonwoo bites the juncture of your neck and shoulder, so hard you think the mark is gonna be there for days. You moan at that, hips kicking and shocking with Wonwoo’s.

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“You know nobody could fuck you like I do,” he says, sounding smug but also dead serious, and this cocky side of his during such moments never fails to make you wet.

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You inhale, reuniting the fight there’s still in you. To be honest the only thing that makes you still retort back is the alcohol. It gives you a special ability of not being able to shut up.

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“I guess someone else will have to fuck me so I can believe you.”

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You watch his demeanor change instantly at that; shoulders tensing, jaw clenching and predatory eyes — Wonwoo kisses the breath out of you. He sucks at your body lip, licking at the seam of your mouth, and you gasp, mouth parting and his tongue slides against yours. There’s a hot flash rushing all over you as your body pulses with want; Wonwoo has always been a great kisser, capable of surrendering you putty in his hands.

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He kisses you again and again and again, as if someone might take you away. He kisses you like he wants to carve his identity in your soul. He kisses you so messy and hungry that your teeth actually clack and the sounds of your lips dragging roughly and tongues rubbing against each other fills the air around you.

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Wonwoo can probably taste the alcohol, if the way he moans is anything to go by.

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It is dirty, lewd and so fucking hot you feel the fight leaving your body momentarily along with your breath, lungs burning with the lack of oxygen. There are a few tears gathering in the corner of your eyes, and you don’t even realize their presence, but then, and only then, Wonwoo pulls away. He bites at your lower lip one more time, a lewd string of saliva connecting your mouths for a short while before it breaks.

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“Seems like you suddenly forgot who’s name you scream when you’re getting railed,” Wonwoo tells you, voice poisonous and labored breath caressing the skin of your neck. “Should I remind you?”

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“Y-yes,” you moan out, enjoying the proposal, but it only serves to make Wonwoo scoff.

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“I think you need to learn how to respect me first,” he says instead, and there’s butterflies swarming together in your belly, chest still heaving for air.

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“Will you punish me if I don’t?” you retort, staring him right back in the eyes.

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Wonwoo growls.

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“You better shut the fuck up before I make you regret,” he says, and you feel a shiver rocking so bad on your body that your hips collide into Wonwoo’s, his half hard cock pressing against your stomach. The feeling makes you moan.

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“Why would I?” you ask, trembling voice giving away how much this all affects you. “I want this.”

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There’s a bit of silence before you continue.

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“Make me regret.”

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“Fuck,” Wonwoo groans, biting on your neck again, this time so far up that you won’t be able to hide it that easily. “So needy you can’t even think about anything else other than having a cock drilling into you.”

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Wonwoo kisses your moan away, sucks at your bottom lip until it’s swollen. Then, he puts three fingers in your mouth, like he’s telling you to shut up.

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Wonwoo turns his head to look down at your shuddering frame trapped between the side of the car and him. You don’t look up, too focused on sucking at his long fingers, but when Wonwoo starts to move his arm that was occupied by your mouth, you stir, and look up to meet his eyes.

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They’re dark, with a glint in them you could only recognize as devious and wicked and so so so mean. It’s the same glint he gets when he’s about to deal out a punishment, or tease you enough that you believe it’s a punishment. It makes the hair on the back of your neck stand, and a bead of sweat drips from your eyebrow. You wonder what you’ve got yourself in for the night when you both get home.

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As if on cue, answering your arousal hazed thoughts, the hand that was slowly doing a dangerous path down your body settles itself on the front of your pants. It’s heavy on your clit, and you can feel Wonwoo digging his fingers into your entrance. You barely have the sense to react, and even if you could, you reminded yourself you weren’t home yet. Wonwoo now has his hand groping your pussy in public.

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Your face flushes a dark red at the realization, feeling humiliated and embarrassed under Wonwoo’s grip. If someone were to see, they’d get arrested for sure. Wonwoo’s hand has a strong grip on your clit, fingers quickly slipping past the thick fabric of your denim jeans and lace panties so he could press the pad of it against your naked and wet folds.

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You whine quietly, and now that the hold on your jaw has been set loose, you nestle your face further into the crook of Wonwoo’s neck. With a grip on Wonwoo’s jacket, you feel him angling his head so it rests against the top of your head.

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“Wait, f-fuck, someone might see us!” you whisper-yell at him, but Wonwoo only hums and steps in closer. Your chests are flush together and he towers over your frame easily enough to hide you between him and the car. “Wonwoo—”

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Your sentence gets interrupted by your own moan when he presses a finger inside of you. You quiver, legs trembling, and you let the realization that Wonwoo is about to finger you publicly sink into your stomach. You know that the streets are deserted and there’s not one single soul around there since it’s so late, but the thought of it still has you gasping.

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“Wait? But weren’t you the one complaining about me making you wait all the time?” Wonwoo bites back, tone mean and unforgiving when he fucks his finger inside of you. He sounds almost angry and it’s making you so damn horny. “Earlier you were looking at me with such a hunger. I bet you were thinking about me fucking you in front of everyone, weren’t you, baby?”

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You moan because yes, that was exactly what you were thinking. His hand lets go of your wrists when he adds another finger inside of you. It burns a little, you think, but enjoys the pain as your arms fly up to circle around his neck and pull him closer. Wonwoo goes easily, mouth finding yours and fingers fucking inside you in a way that has you squirming.

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He soon gives attention to your neck, kissing all over it before sucking a wet blotch against the skin right underneath your jaw. Wonwoo pulls away, looking at it for a while like it gives him some sort of feral satisfaction to see you bearing one of his marks.

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“Wonwoo, I’m n-not—” your words break off into a whine, struggling to form sentences. “Not— g-gonna be able to hide the, ah, hickey i-if you suck it that far up.”

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“Good,” Wonwoo says, and his mouth finds your neck. You scratch his scalp when he sucks again, this time harder, his arm coming to help you up when your legs give in. “Want everyone to know you’re mine. Only mine to fuck, to breed, to love, to cherish, to make you my little slut.”

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You throw your head, back arching off of the car and mouth opening to let a high pitched moan scape you. Wonwoo then adds another finger, the third one, and gyrates them so hard inside you you actually feel like you’re seeing stars, figuratively and realistically — the night sky above you is adorned with a few of them.

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“Acting like a brat and riling me up like that, this is what you wanted, isn’t that right, princess?” Wonwoo spits out, lips pressed into a thin line as if he’s getting more and more angry at his own words. “If I didn’t stop you right there, would you have continued dancing with that dude, huh? Would you maybe have made out with him?”

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You try to answer, maybe tease him back again, but you can’t even form a coercive sentence. The only thing you can do is hold onto Wonwoo like your life depends on it as he fucks you furiously with his fingers, and take whatever he’s willing to give it to you. 

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“Do you think he could finger you like this?” Wonwoo says poisonously, hand squeezing at your ass hard enough that you think it’s gonna leave the print of his fingers. “Think he would have a bigger cock than mine?”

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He ruts against you as if to prove his point, hard and so fucking big it has you breathless. You know how your boyfriend is well-endowed, know he could make you feel him for days after a good fuck and your mouth salivates. Wonwoo presses the pad of his fingers in your sweet spot, jamming against it without pulling out with quick movements, and you feel like you’re going insane.

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“Since you put a lot of effort into being a fucking brat today, I will give you what you want, sweetheart,” Wonwoo laughs a little, almost as if he’s mocking you, and your whole face burns in pleasurable humiliation. “I’m gonna be rough. I’m gonna fuck you hard and fast against every surface of our house, gonna make you scream my name so everyone knows you belong to me, gonna use you, make you my little ragdoll and dump you full of my cum until you’re all heavy and swollen with it.”

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“Wonwoo— your f-fuck, fucking dirty mouth, ah—” you thrash in his grip, nestling your face further into his neck and he knew, he knew all along what was your intention with the way you were acting, and you hold tight on his hair, hearing him growl when you pull at it. “I’m gonna come. Gonna cum s-so fucking hard, fuck—”

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“I’ll make it hurt,” Wonwoo warns, his lips ghosting at the shell of your ear and hot breath tickling your sensitive skin, brings goosebumps all over it. “But I’ll make it feel good.”

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The pleasure builds quickly and you throw your head back with a loud moan, orgasm almost hitting you like a train.

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But then, everything stops. Wonwoo pulls away, fingers slipping out of you and he wipes them in his jeans. He then goes through his pocket and grabs the car keys, the familiar beep sound echoing through the empty streets when he clicks a button on the key chain, and it’s got you completely dumbfounded.

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“Come on, get in the car, baby,” Wonwoo states simply, like he didn’t just make the best orgasm of your life ebb away. Frustration sinks deep within your bones and you groan, turning to look at him like he just committed a war crime.

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“Why did you— why did you stop?” you question, heart almost jumping out of your chest and you feel like you’re going to actually die if you don’t get to come soon. “I was just there!”

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“Oh, sweetheart,” Wonwoo coos at you like he finds what you just said endearing. Face flushing dark red, you get completely embarrassed with how quick he makes you feel small. “You thought I was going to make you cum?”

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Wonwoo comes closer, holds your chin softly, a total contrast to what he says then.

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“Poor baby, I’m actually going to do the exact opposite.” he pecks your lips once. “Gonna edge you until you cry.”

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He goes around the car and opens the door for you.

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“Now get in, baby. Don’t make me repeat myself,” Wonwoo says, tone leaving no room for arguments, and you gulp before obeying.

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Wonwoo closes the door for you when you finish settling yourself inside, and goes to the driver’s seat. You watch him turn the car on as you put your seatbelt, whining when your cunt throbs in need. When he starts driving you try your best to move as quietly as you can, squirming a little until you can smooth your fingers through your clit. You gyrate them once, pleasure swarming all over your body, before Wonwoo’s voice wakes you up from your short haze.

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“No touching yourself,” he admonishes with a tsk and you groan, frustrated. He’s still looking at the road and you don’t even know how he managed to figure it out that you were touching yourself.

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Staring out of the window, your thighs rub together every time the car shakes a little. Your mind supplies unnecessary images of your boyfriend fucking you, and you curse a little. Even trying to imagine disgusting things wouldn’t delete Wonwoo’s words from earlier out of your head, and you’re getting more and more excited by the second.

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“Wonwon…” you sigh, almost a whisper, hips moving in the air and hands coming to grab at one of your breasts. You smirk, content when you hear him growl.

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“I said not to touch yourself,” Wonwoo’s knuckles turn white with how hard he grips the steering wheel. “Should I tie you up in our bed and leave you untouched or are you going to start obeying me?”

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“But you’re not doing anything,” you whine, wanting nothing else then to come.

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“You don’t know what I’m capable of,” Wonwoo says, voice low and dead serious.

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“I don’t think you know either.”

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The car comes to a complete stop right after you say that. You gulp, realizing Wonwoo has already parked in your private garage. He gets out of the car and goes to your side, opening the door, still in complete silence.

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“Turn this way,” he orders, voice one octave lower, and you gasp at the roughness of it. “Now.”

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You spring into action, take your seatbelt off, doing as you’re told, and as soon as you finish turning to him with your legs outside of the car, he gets on his knees.

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“W-Wonwoo,” it’s the only thing you manage to say as you watch him work with your pants after taking your shoes off. He ends up popping the button off but you don’t have it in you to complain, not when he’s looking like that. 

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo finishes taking your jeans off, throwing somewhere in the garage, and then he grabs at both sides of the collar of your shirt. You frown, confused with the action, but then his hands are pulling, and he rips it in half.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Wonwoo,” you moan, beyond turned on as he does the same to your penties. Your clothes are torn apart but you can’t think of anything else other than fuck me fuck me fuck me. “I—”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo kisses you shut, lips dragging hard against yours, and you feel his hands at your thighs before he pulls at them enough so that you slip on your seat. He uses the grip to open your legs for him, not even giving you a break to understand what’s going on before sucking on your clit hard.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Your back arches, hands scrambling to hold on something — one of them finds the steering wheel and the other finds the wadding of the seat, body thrashing everywhere before Wonwoo pins your hips down in place — knows better than to shove his face in your cunt as you originally wanted to do.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

He licks between your folds one, two, three times; the tip of his tongue prods inside your already loose entrance, and fuck if you didn’t moan, high pitched and greedy for more. Wonwoo inserts more of it until his nose is pressed against your clit, doing a sound in the back of his throat that sends just right. The wetness of his tongue feels so good pressing against your cores and kicking at your soft folds.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“W-Wonwoo, fuck— f-feels so good—” Wonwoo thrusts his tongue inside you, and you feel like you’re seeing stars, especially when he presses just right. “Ah! Shit, your f-fucking tongue—”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo has to hold you down tighter, your body unable to stay put as you thrash around. You feel tempted to think how your neighbors could probably hear you, but your boyfriend is sucking the life out of you through your pussy and you can’t concentrate well enough to elaborate the thought.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

It’s when Wonwoo curls his tongue just right that has you thinking you would ascend to heaven soon. 

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Fuck! I, ah— Wanna cum, Wonwon, I’m coming, please— let me cum this time,” you manage to get out, writhing and legs kicking everywhere. “Please!”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

But, of course Wonwoo, being the little shit he is, pulls away. Tears gather in your eyes as you groan out of frustration, and Wonwoo is just so mean.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Shit—” you cry out, watching his shit eating grin. You hate but love at the same time the way he’s absolutely enjoying seeing you so desperate for a release. “Y-you’re so mean.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Are you gonna stop being a brat now?” Wonwoo raises a brow at you, licking his lips. You shiver, knowing that he’s tasting you by the pleased hum he makes after.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Fuck you,” you spit it out, too horny and angry to care.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Is that so?” he hums, looking at you as if you’re his prey, to which you’re starting to believe you actually are. “Maybe I should put a gag in this dirty little mouth of yours.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo traces a thumb in your lower lip like he’s considering the thought.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“But I think I’m just gonna fuck that attitude out of you.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You can’t even bring yourself to enjoy the comment before he pulls on your wrist so hard you get up from the seat, body colliding into his. Wonwoo’s mouth finds yours, the kiss messy and hungry and angry, to the point it makes your legs weak. Your hands scramble to take his shirt off right after you manage to throw his belt somewhere, and you stop for a moment to admire the hard planes of his abs.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo must be the hottest person alive. How can someone have such a handsome face and have a body that looks like it’s sculpted by the gods? He’s getting stronger with his gym practices and it's making you weak.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“You might actually drool if you keep staring like that,” Wonwoo says, half joking and half serious, but you blush anyways.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Just—” you try, breath labored and chest heaving. “J-just rail me. Use me.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Yeah? Want me to treat you like the slut you are?” his lewd question makes you tremble and nod your head. “Speak.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Y-yes, please—” you beg, revolve slowly breaking in.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Of course you do,” he answers, voice a few octave lowers again, and he grabs a fistful of your hair. Wonwoo pulls at it until your head is thrown back, his face right above yours. “Open your mouth.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You’re quick to obey, mouth parting as he hovers over you, the only thing keeping you up is one of his arms around your waist.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

And oh god, you’re certainly not expecting when he fucking spits into your mouth, a hand coming to press against your jaw and make you close your lips, but you sure as hell want him to do it again.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Swallow.” Wonwoo orders, and you moan, doing as you’re told. He looks at you with a feral satisfaction, eyes dark and so full of hunger it stunts you into silence. It’s like there’s this lustful wish of him to break you in until you don’t belong to anyone else but him, and that’s so fucking hot.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

He kisses you for what feels like the hundredth time — not that you’re complaining, he could kiss you for one hundred more and you’d still beg for it. But this time there’s something different, something urgent, and he grasps the back of your thighs when he finishes taking his clothes off and fish something from the pocket of his pants, hefting you up in the air, your legs circling around his waist automatically.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo doesn’t break the messy kiss as he walks through the garage, opening the door that leads to the inside of the house. He doesn’t waste time before slamming you into it as soon as he closes it, your back hitting the wooden frame with a loud thud as the two of you make out like it’s the last thing you’ll ever do.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

There’s too much tongue and too much spit and too much teeth, but the dirtiness of it all is what makes it even more hot.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Want you,” you whine out, realizing that what Wonwoo took out of his pants earlier was a package of lube.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

He rips at the top and pours at his hands, reaching behind you to stroke his hard cock, groaning at the feeling as he lines up with your entrance. The wet head nudges your rim softly, but it slips through your folds. You look at Wonwoo only to realize he’s already staring at you, devious glint in his eyes.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You’re about to tell him to hurry up when a moan is punched out of you, high pitched and needy, because Wonwoo fucked his cock inside you in one go, nearly knocking the breath right out of your lungs. Your nails scratch all over his back and he groans at the feeling, hips kicking into you.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“You like that?” he questions, rhetorically of course, and grinds his hips until they are flushed against your ass. You gasp for air, feeling full to the brim, and the burn in your cunt is just so good. “Think I don’t know about your little plans to rile me up?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo even has the audacity to laugh, jamming inside you with slow but deep thrusts.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“How you get more handsy with your friends when I’m around,” he grits out, anger bleeding through his thoughts and thrusts like he just hates the idea of you touching more intimately other people. “And you look at me with those eyes. Like you’re begging me to claim you.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Holy fuck, Jeon Wonwoo is fucking you standing up and you’re not dreaming.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo is full on mercilessly ramming you now, sending you body into the door with every plunge of his cock, the sound of your back hitting the wood obscenely loud. It leaves you putty, can just take what he’s giving you, hands holding him for dear life.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Should’ve put you on your knees right in front of that guy,” Wonwoo continues, breath ragged from effort. “Make you choke on my cock so he knows who you belong to.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo grabs your ass with his hands, palms sinking into the flash as he propels you back every time he fucks up. It makes the drag of his thickness press right through all the good spots.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Should’ve bent you over the bar counter and fucked you hard until you scream my fucking name,” he growls out, the veins on his neck and arms bulging. You tighten around him in answer to the sinful view. “Fuck, your pussy is so greedy. Always so tight—”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo angles his hips just right and hits against your sweet spot so suddenly that your climax — which was already at bay — escalates quickly to the point it sends your mind into a frenzy.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

And, for the third time, Wonwoo slows down, hips flush against your ass he can nudge his cockhead right above your sweet spot, missing it on purpose. Your eyes prickle with tears, and it doesn’t take long for them to run down your face; the first one goes reluctantly, but after that they start cascading down your cheeks uncontrollably.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“So beautiful,” Wonwoo groans at the sight of you crying for him, pecking one of your tears strained cheek. “I’ve broken you in, haven’t I?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“P-please, Wonwon— Please, please, please let me c-come,” you sob, all the want to be a brat gone from your body. The overwhelming need grows so exponentially big inside of you you feel like you’re going to explode if you don’t orgasm.  “W-wanna cum on your cock, please, ah—”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo is moaning, louder than he has all day, and the satisfaction of seeing you give up on your fight and beg for him makes his hips pick up a brutal pace. You gasp, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck and biting at the untouched skin.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“So pretty when you beg,” he compliments, and you actually find surprising your ability to blush even when you’re being dicked down this good. “Does it feel good, sweetheart?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Y-yes— Ah! Hmmm, shit—” you mumble, struggling to get words out. It’s difficult to keep your voice steady enough to say anything with the way you’re bouncing like a ragdoll on Wonwoo’s hold. “Love this— L-love you, ruin me, Wonwoo, Wonwon—”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo pulls your head backward with a fistful of your hair, baring your neck so that he could attack it with bites and hickeys all over. You’re sure that, by the end of this night, you’re going to be looking like some type of sexual Christmas tree, but the thought of baring your boyfriend’s marks after sex only turns you on. And he seems pretty intent on that, wanting to claim you in all ways possible.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Say it,” Wonwoo commands, but you don’t understand, can’t understand with your mind being in such a pleasurable haze. He fucks up right in the time he pulls you back down by your waist, downright impaling you on his cock. “Say you’re mine.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Y-yours,” you answer, fingers intertwining through Wonwoo’s dark strands of hair. “I’m yours.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Again,” Wonwoo growls out, basking in your pleads and moans and screams of pleasure.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Yours,” you repeat, and he bites on your lower lip. You have enough of a mind presence to admire his bulging biceps contorting with your weight, and his huge test firm and sweaty from the effort.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Again,” his possessive side gets the best of him, admiring all the marks he has left in your neck. “Say it again.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Yours, ah!” a moan breaks at the end of the word, Wonwoo’s thrusts getting rougher, faster and there’s heat pooling down on your lower stomach. “I’m y-yours, all yours, only yours.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Yes, mine,” Wonwoo agrees, holding your smaller frame tightly against his. “Mine,” he echoes again, muscles trembling from fucking you standing up.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo kisses you, the best he can with the harsh movement of your body going up and down on his cock.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“I love you so much,” he tells you, voice soft and rough at the same time. “I have always been only yours.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“I’m gonna come, I’m g-going to— going to come,” you state after his words, the pull on your lower stomach growing impossibly higher, and it’s almost unbearable. “Please, fuck, please l-let— cum— let m-me cum! I have been g-good, please, Wonwon—”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

”Such a good girl for me. The best girl,” Wonwoo praises, angling his hips a little so he can press his cockhead against your sweet spot every time he fucks inside. “Come on, you can cum, sweetheart.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Your eyes roll so far back in your head you’re momentarily afraid they are never coming back. White hot pleasure surges in your body, the sheer intensity of your high sends your mind into a mess. The feeling of your walls clenching like a vice around Wonwoo’s cock sends him over the edge too, and the sensation of his cum shooting inside your walls only serves to add up to what you think it’s the best orgasm of your life, mind going completely blank.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

This might have been totally different from what you’ve originally planned but you know what? You’re definitely going to use this plan more often now.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

[bearificationtransformations]

Sean’s double dose

Gay, 30 years old, 5’11” and 150 pounds soaking wet. Sean ran, lifted on occasion, but was chronically thin...and he hated it. 

Sean was the exact demographic that the Énorme promotions team was looking for.

Sean had recently submitted some headshots to a gay-owned modelling campaign, hoping to get cast as an extra in a local TV or movie. Not long after his photos were posted up on a extras modelling page, he got a surprising email, seemly out of the blue.

“Sean,

How would you like to get big and get noticed? We are looking for models interested in beefing up for our newest ad campaign. Our product helps thin guys like you bulk up. Let us know if you’re interested 

Sincerely,

the Énorme team”

Somehow this random company had hit on something that Sean had always dreamed about- beefing up.  He loved the idea of getting bigger. Despite years of trying to get into lifting, he had never been able to put on weight. How did they know he was the kind of guy who’d be into a supplement like that?

Sean followed up right away. The campaign was simple, they would be able to use his photos and credit him, and they’d send him the product and pay him $200.00 USD to take photos after the results.

It wasn’t a lot of money, but it was something... and definitely worth checking out. The Énorme contact also said that it if turned out well, they’d pay for a visit to the studio for a professional photo shoot and would provide an additional $500.00 plus any travel expenses paid.

Sounded like a good deal. The company sent him two vials of a “Bear strength” formula. With the instructions to take the first one after a workout and that the second one was an extra dose in case he wanted it.

Odd, very odd. How was this going to make him bigger? The email correspondence promised him rapid results, and that it was totally legal, but he wasn’t fully convinced. It was just a vial of liquid, not a big tub of gainer protein powder or anything like that 

As soon as Énorme had wired him the funds, Sean took the formula.

It didn’t take long for the effects to begin. About an hour after he took the formula, his shirt began to feel tight. His pants too. He examined himself in the mirror to see that his whole frame looked a little wider... thicker. No, it couldn’t be real, it couldn’t work that fast...

Sean stepped on the scale to see if he was just imagining things. 170 pounds. That was a full 20 pounds heavier than normal.  Damn! It was real. He was actually beginning to grow.

Over the course of the next hour, Sean monitored his body closely, examining his arms and shoulders... watching as beef gradually and steadily piled onto his frame. With each passing minute he grew meatier, heavier and broader. 170 soon became 180, then 190. He stripped out of his tight clothes and got a good look of his growing frame. His scruffy beard was starting to lengthen and the patchy chest hair he had seemed to fill in more. Fuck he was getting big!

Sean was in awe of the transformation he was undergoing. It turned him on to see his body fill out, grow heavier, bulkier. Muscle and fat were blowing him up bigger and bigger. Soon he looked like a full blown lineman on a football team. He was getting huge. 

Sean loved it, he loved how big he was getting. His belly was rounding out, his chest was getting massive and hairier, his arms were thick and powerful. He really was starting to look like a bear of a man. He looked down and didn’t recognize anything about his body. He felt so... bulky.

After nearly two hours of steady growth Sean surveyed his new frame. He had put on a total of 140 pounds onto his body, nearly doubling in size. 300 beefy, bearish pounds. Thick, powerful arms and shoulders, big meaty pecs. He took a photo to show off his new size. Fuck, this was incredible. His dick felt so heavy and fat in his hands. He had already doubled in size.

He’d have to show this to the Énorme team. He was bigger than he had ever dreamed of being. His face had filled out, as he had packed on a good amount of fat as well. His hands explored the thick new belly he sported. 

Sean was so turned on that he could hardly stand it. He stroked his dick as he felt up his new form. It was real. He was huge. Rock hard he eyed the second vial of formula still on his desk. He was so turned on, all he could think about was keeping the growth going. He could get truly huge, truly enormous. Freakishly big. 

Sean, in his testosterone and growth induced haze, couldn’t stop thinking about how big a second dose of this miracle formula would make him. All he wanted was more. More growth, more muscle, more belly, and more dick.

The growth never really stopped. It had slowed down, but when he threw back the second dose of the formula, the wave of growth just reignited, surging through every part of him. Suddenly he was flushed and hot again. Fuck, the formula was hitting him hard now. He was so fucking turned on. He jerked off as he grew, steadily blowing up bigger and bigger. He came all over himself in one massive load, all over his belly.

Sean cleaned up the mess and then snapped another shot as he grew somewhere north of 350 pounds. He wasn’t sure, as now all he was getting was an ERR message on his scale. He put his hand on his round belly. He looked like a strongman. Fuck, he felt so massive. He loved this. He looked so hot like this. So huge.

Sean was hard again, and still growing. Truth was, he was slightly scared of how big he was getting. His whole body felt like a tank. A hulking frame that now caused the floorboards to groan. He wouldn’t admit that to himself though. All he wanted to do was keep feeling up his body as he expanded, blowing up in the biggest most bearish fucker he’d ever seen. While he was oblivious to the fact that his height had gone up several inches already, he did note that his perspective seemed... a little higher up. 

Sean was immense. Huge didn’t even cut it anymore. No, he was immense. Had he a working scale, Sean would have discovered he was now tipping the scale at over 450 pounds, and still growing. He sent went to take some more photos to show off this new mass, this brutal, overblown size that he now posessed.  This blimped up, hyper beefy body. He set the camera on his desk with a timed shot. He climbed onto his bed which now creaked loudly in protest. His huge round bear belly now hanging down and brushing against the sheets. He lumbered his enormous bulk around, feeling himself grow even thicker still. Goddamn, he was still getting bigger

Fuck he was huge. He saw the photo and it turned him on even more. A giant gorilla of a man. 

He groaned as another wave of growth hit him. Ever inch of him swelling even larger. Sean was now teetering at almost 600 pounds of overgrown beef. Everything about him was huge now. Everything about him was gigantic. His bed groaned loudly in protest. Nothing he owned was built for the man his size. Hell, nothing in the world was built for a man his size. 

Sean’s growth slowed down eventually, leaving him freakishly overbulked.  His hypersized body felt powerful, but slow. Every motion felt so deliberate. No clothes would fit him at this new size. He had to squeeze through doorways now. He was four times as big as he had been before the formula. He didn’t realize it, but he was now six foot five and hovering around 630 pounds. Even a silverback gorilla didn’t hold a candle to him now.  

And he loved it. 

[ipuckwithhockey]

Tattooed Idiots- N. Patrick

a/n: I went months where I couldn’t even think about writing anything and now I’ve written two things this week? OK. I was also recently talking to a friend about tattoo placement and how they regretted putting one little tattoo in the middle of their arm because it doesn’t flow with how they want to do their sleeve... It made me think of Nolan’s boat tattoo.  

warnings: none? swearing

------

“Nolan James Patrick. In the flesh. I have to say, I feel honored to be graced with your presence.”

You hadn’t seen Nolan in almost four years, but here he was standing on the deck of your mutual friend’s lake house. A post college graduation reunion of sorts was planned for this summer, and a group of your childhood friends was now gathered for a week on the lake.

When Nolan left Canada for Philadelphia you left the same town for college in New York. The two of you were close growing up, but it seemed like the older you got the further apart you grew. Neither of you really knew why, and maybe it was just the physical distance that pushed your texts and calls further apart.  In retrospect this doesn’t seem likely as you have only been an hour train ride apart for the last four years.

You didn’t spend much time at home in the summers as you worked jobs and internships in the city, and it just so happened that your visits home never lined up with his. Your secret crush on your friend eventually faded, but now that you’re looking at Nolan’s bare back you can’t help but notice that his shoulders are broader, and his arms are thicker than they were back when you were kids.

Both of you had grown a lot over the last few years. You weren’t the same shy teenage girl and he wasn’t the quiet hockey player that dreamt of making it to the NHL. Going to school in New York had pushed you out of your comfort zone and had given you a newfound sense of confidence. Introversion was always a source of common ground between the two of you, as most of your friends were more outgoing and even a bit rowdy at times. For the last week you had racked your brain of what you would say when you saw him again. Would you fall into your old habits and close relationship or would be met with someone you didn’t recognize?

“I’m the one who should feel honored, you’ve only been avoiding me for about four years.”

Nolan turns around to face you and for some reason there’s a tinge of hurt in his voice that only you can probably pick up on.

“You know what, you’re right. You are lucky.” You chose to ignore that feeling and your quick retort takes Nolan a bit by surprise. He wasn’t expecting you to be so bold. He can’t do anything but laugh and as the day goes on you fall back into your old friendship and adjust to each other’s new maturities.

Later that day the group decides to make its way from the deck down to the to dock for a swim.  As you strip off your shorts and tank top to reveal your bikini clad body, you begin to feel a bit of self-consciousness sneak up on you. That, and you feel a set of eyes on you. It’s not until later that day that you find out who those eyes belong to.

“You know, a picture would last longer” You look over from the chair you are sitting in to see a rosy cheeked Nolan sitting on top of a cooler.

“You’re probably right... always were the smart one.” As he says it, you see him wink through his round rimmed sunglasses. Did he seriously just wink at you? Is Nolan Patrick seriously trying to flirt with you or is it just the day drinking talking?

Throughout the day you and Nolan continue to tease and banter, and in any other situation you would have definitely considered this flirting. Either way, you were having a good time and a little flirting felt harmless.

Later that night you’re all back on the deck after dinner.

“I need another Claw; anybody want anything from the kitchen?” You ask as you move toward the sliding doors.

“Yeah, I’m gonna get another beer.” You barely even hear his mumbled voice, but he follows you into the kitchen and you leave your rambunctious group of friends behind you. The next few minutes are quiet as the two you move around the kitchen in silence. You’re throwing some trash away that has begun to litter the counters and finally turn to face the sink as you crack open your well-earned drink. You can once again feel Nolan’s eyes on you as he leans against the counter behind you.

“Since when are you into tattoos?” You practically choke on your drink. His deep voice is now closing in on you, and his hot breath is now hitting your neck as he steps up and leans in close behind you. His bare chest is just inches from your back that is only covered by a strap holding your bikini top to your body. And his hands. His fingers are lightly tracing the delicate tattoo that now inhabits your right side. His hands are cold from holding his beer and he’s touching you so close to your breast, goosebumps now litter your skin. If it weren’t for him stepping even closer into you, you probably would have forgotten to breathe. His body is now touching yours and your short frame in being toward over.  You can’t help but lean back into him. Taking in his warmth and his familiar scent. His breath still hot on your neck as he mumbles, “You gonna answer my question or are we just gonna stand here all night?”

You wouldn’t have had any problem doing just that, but you clear your throat and turn around to face him. He takes a slight step back, but you’re still close enough to lightly touch his his upper arm and whisper, “Well, I’ve kind of had a thing for them since this guy I used to know got a little boat tattooed on the middle of his arm.”

You look up at him and he has that sly smile on his face that you hate but secretly love.

“You know, I used to have a massive crush on this chick who used to talk about how much she hated that little boat tattoo. She always gave me shit for putting a ‘tiny boat in the middle of my arm.’ She said I’d regret it one day when I decided to get a sleeve. She was probably right, but then she left and stopped talking to me.”

You jokingly push him back a little to distance yourself, “I didn’t stop talking to you, you stopped talking to me. And you didn’t have a crush on me. I would have known. Hell, I’m the one who spent my entire life quite obviously pining over you!”

You’re not arguing, you’re still just joking, but the mood in the air is becoming more serious as the two of you come to realize what has just unfolded. Years of mutual but unknown pining between the two of you finally comes to the surface and you’re both still processing what that  means.

You look up at each other, and you can’t help but laugh. Nolan laughs too, and he shakes his head, “I’m an idiot. I had no clue you ever liked me like that. I guess I always figured you were way too smart to be into me. Guess you’re just not that smart.”

“Who says I still like you?” You say it as a joke but there’s a moment when it dawns on Nolan that you probably don’t still like him.

“Nols, I’m joking. I definitely thought I was over you, but as soon as I saw you today I knew I was still fucked. You were right, I’m really not that smart.”

Your feet are moving you back into him and you’re met chest to chest again. Your hands hesitate but eventually reach up to his hair that he has let grow out, and his eyes close as he feels your fingers lightly tug on the wisps that fall at his neck. You’re still looking up at him, admiring just how beautiful he is just as your foreheads touch. They’re resting gently against each other and his arms have wrapped around your body to pull you close. You think maybe he’ll pull away, but you feel his hand take your cheek and then you’re kissing. Nolan can’t put how good your lips feel on his into words. Mind blowing may be the closest thing to accurate.

You kiss gently and his tenderness warms your heart but feeling his bare chest against yours and his arm wrapping around your waste, you can’t help but deepen the kiss. Soon the innocence is gone and you’re desperately holding onto each other. You bite at his lip and he can’t help but moan into you. Years of pining, years of tension, are finally being relieved.

Nolan pushes you back and traps you between him and the cold kitchen island. His lips dance over your neck and you gladly adjust to give him better access. You would have let him take you right there in the middle of the kitchen if you hadn’t been interrupted by an eruption of applause.

“Finally! God Damn!”

“We’ve only been waiting our entire lives for you two to get together.”

Remarks of relief and approval come from your group of friends who are now gathered at the back door. You bury your head into Nolan’s chest and you can’t help but laugh as you realize you really are the two most clueless idiots in the world.

“We really are idiots.” You look up at him and he looks back at you, smiling,

“Yeah, but you’re my idiot.”

[afeb]

Draco Malfoy - Still Your Girl

School reunions were only ever meet and greets for people who’d done better than you. It was almost comical: there was the jock who was now a desk-jockey, the underdog who became a millionaire and the sad divorcee using this as a pull.

Everyone was married to either each other or someone else: everyone but me it seemed. Everyone was practically beaming with excitement whilst I used this as a wonderful excuse to drink free alcohol.

I had caught up with old friends, Harry and Ginny, Ron and Hermione, but quickly sulked off around the empty castle halls. Everything seemed smaller, more insignificant. I used to think this place was the world.

I turned the corner and jumped out my skin. “Merlin!” I yelled, clutching my chest. “I’m sorry!”

“Y/N.” His voice, still smooth and silky as ever.

“Draco.”

He looked fetching. His suit was fitted as usual, black with a white undershirt. He had grown and now towering over me. He’d become broader and thicker but his hair was still the same bleach blonde. Instead of slicked back however, it was styled into a middle part, longer than how he used to have it. Stubble was littering his jaw and cheeks. He looked very fetching.

“I’ve been looking for you,” he softly smiled. “I thought you would’ve left as soon as you could.”

I smiled warmly and nodded. “You know me.”

There was an awkward pause before he looked quickly behind him. “Hey...why don’t we find the Room of Requirement?”

I bit my lip. “You think we can still find it?”

He nodded and already began walking down the hall. “Come on!”

I giggled and raced after him, watching closely as his eyes scanned the old castle.

“Left...” he mumbled. “Then right...and...it should be here.”

We gazed up at the large empty wall. When nothing happened, my shoulders dropped. “Maybe it only appears to students.” I pondered aloud.

“Wait...” Draco took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

The door appeared, and a cocky grin graced Dracos lips as he opened the door for me. I cheekily smiled up at him before entering. Nothing had changed, it was still the mess we’d left it.

“God it’s a dump.” Draco breathed, gazing up at the stacks of old chairs. “We must be at the opposite end of the fire damage.”

I hummed. “God that feels so long ago.”

“It was.” Draco said as we slowly began weaving through the mountains of stuff.

“How have you been?” I asked, running my hand over an old desk.

He shrugged. “Good, I work for the Ministry now finding radicalised witches and wizards.” He said proudly. “I heard you have a shop in Diagon Alley?”

“That sounds like the perfect job for you.” I said. “I do indeed, it’s nothing really just some little shop that-“

“Hey,” he interrupted. “I’m sure it’s amazing.”

I blushed. “I collect stuff, old relics and things, and I sell them on.”

“See, very interesting.” He affirmed. “No wedding ring?”

I snorted. “Don’t remind me,” I gazed down at his left hand and saw it bare too. “But I’m not the only one I see.”

He chuckled and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Too busy to get a wife.” He shortly said. “So have you just never found someone?”

“I did...” I sighed. “A long time ago.”

“What happened?” He pressed.

“We were kids...we needed to grow up.” I whispered, pausing to hop up on an old school desk. Draco leant against a chest of draws across the path from me.

“Were you in love?” He asked.

“Very much so.” I looked at him.

He didn’t say anything for a minute, simply pursed his plump lips. “Are you talking about us?” He finally asked. I nodded. “We were in love.”

“We were different people.” I sadly smiled.

“You don’t think we could work now?” He asked.

I shook my head. “I don’t think we did back then. Don’t you remember how much we used to fight?”

He laughed a little. “But do you remember how often we forgave each other?”

“You’ve just got rose-tinted glasses on.” I noted.

“Or I remember the best parts.” He challenged.

I scoffed. “Like when you wouldn’t tell your father about me, even though you loved me so much?” I sarcastically said.

He sighed again. “I was a coward back then, I thought what my mother and father thought was all that mattered. I was wrong.”

“I-“ I went to snap but was suprised that he admitted his wrong doing. “Yes, you were.”

“I’m sorry.” He said. “Maybe if I hadn’t of cared so much, things would be different.”

“Maybe.” I whispered. “You’ve changed.”

“I have?” He cocked a brow, standing to move in front of me.

I nodded. “You seem...wiser, kinder.” I gently reached out and delicately touched his cheek. “And you’ve got a beard.”

He laughed. “That I do, do you not like it?”

I smiled brightly. “I love it!”

“I’ll keep it then.” His hand came to grasp mine, flipping my hand over to look at my palm. “I used to trace this line...”

I giggled as he tickled my palm, flexing my fingers around his. “My life line.”

“I used to think I’d be a part of that.” He whispered, leaning down to press a chaste kiss against the flesh.

“You are.” I said.

His eyes gazed into mine. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

His lips pressed to mine gently, tongue tracing over my bottom lips before dancing with mine. He moved my legs apart to rest between them, hands resting on my thighs as he sponged kisses down my cheek and neck. I gasped as he nipped the sensitive flesh, causing my hands to fist his shirt.

My hands skimmed down to gently rub his crotch, causing a deep moan to fall from Dracos mouth. His lips came back to mine, pressing sweet and small kisses against me.

“That’s it.” He praised. “Good girl.”

I whimpered at his words, my eyes locking onto his. I leant up and kissed him again, unzipping his suit trousers and pulling him out. His forehand rest against mine as I flicked my wrist, stroking him up and down slowly.

His hands rest either side of me on the desk, shoulders hunched as he quietly moaned again. My lips found his neck and began sucking, determined to leave any type of mark I could.

“You’re dress is pretty.” He strained. “You’re glowing.”

I giggled. “Thank you.”

“Please Dove, let me feel you.” He begged, hand winding into my hair, pulling me back to gaze down at me.

“Yes.” I whispered.

His hands moved quickly to skim up the skirt of my dress, looping around the band of my underwear and pulling them down. The undergarments were quickly stuffed in his suit jacket before his fingers gently began to rub the bundle of nerves.

I gasped and wound my arms around his neck, face pressed close to his. A smirk landed on his lips as he watched my mouth fall open, breathy whines and moans filling the air.

“There?” He asked, as if he didn’t already know. “Still get so wet for me, don’t you?”

I nodded. “Draco.” I softly cooed out, my eyes widening as he dipped a finger into me.

“Still tight.” He quipped. “This is mine, isn’t it Dove?”

I nodded again, biting my lip harshly. “Please.”

“Of course.”

He pulled me off the desk, tenderly cupping my cheeks and kissing me before spinning me around and bending me over the desk. His hands skimmed down my back before grasping my hips, slowly pressing himself into me.

His arm wrapped around my rib cage and pulled me flush to his chest, his lips going to my ear. “This good?”

“Yes.” My fingers laced with his.

His hips began a slow, teasing pace. His body was pressed so close to mine I could feel his rapid heartbeat through his chest. He was thicker than I remembered, stretching me in the best way.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you since our last day together.” He moaned, snapping his hips harder. “You’re still my girl, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” I whined. “I’m still your girl.”

He chuckled darkly, fingers squeezing mine. “After all this time,” he mused. “Still mine.”

“Draco...I’m gonna-oh!” My moans got higher and higher in pitch as I began to tighten around him.

“That’s it Dove, give me what only I can do, give me what’s mine.” He encouraged, fingers dipping down to rub against my clit.

I screamed as he forced and orgasm from me, my moan bouncing off the walls. He darkly chuckled before pressing me down against the table, chasing his orgasm with his hand on the back of my neck.

He came quickly, hips stuttering as he emptied inside me. He fell on top of me, arms caging me in as he pressed his face into my hair. We didn’t move for a minute, both recovering from something we’d waited for years to have again.

He slowly retracted from me, standing up and tucking himself back in. I stood and pulled my dress down, blushing up at him.

Draco tugged me close to him, kissing me softly. “That was...”

“Amazing.” I finished with a giggle.

He searched my eyes for a moment. “What does this mean?”

I nervously smiled. “Well...if you’ll have me-“

“Yes.” He interrupted with a grin. “Sorry, but yes.”

I laughed loudly and wrapped my arms around his neck, smiling against him lips. “Everyone’s gonna know what happened.”

He growled. “Good, no one else will make a move on you then.”

I laughed again. “You’ve changed, but not that much.”

He pinched my behind before delivering a small slap. I jumped into his chest more, looking up at him. “Come on, if we stay here any longer I won’t be able to keep my hands off of you.”

He began to walk away but I stopped him. “My underwear?”

He pulled my close again, nose bumping mine. “You’ll get those back when I’m done with you.” He darkly said before leading us out of the Room of Requirement.

[hazzoranstories]

Damon Salvatore x Reader One-Shot | Katerina’s Sabotage Part 2

Part 1 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Includes: Nudity, angst, harsh language, and mentions of blood

________________________________________________________________________________

*Mystic Falls, Virginia; 1864*

The next day Stefan woke up abruptly, groaning loudly. He looked around frantically and saw he was near a river. He unbuttoned his shirt to see his bullet wound completely healed. His eyes then fell on a blue ring around his finger.

"Katherine had me make that for you weeks ago," Emily cut in.

"Where am I?" The brother questioned.

"The quarry just north of town. My brother and I brought you here last night. We found you dead in the woods," the witch answered.

"Where's Damon?" Emily nodded behind him, and he shot around to see his brother sitting near the water without a shirt.

"Am I -- am I a --" Stefan stumbled over his words.

"Not yet. You're in transition," Emily said.

"But how? I --"

"You had Katherine's blood in your system when you died," the Bennett interrupted his rambling.

"No. I never --"

"She's been compelling you to drink it for weeks, Stefan," Emily muttered with a frown.

"And Damon?"

"No compulsion was necessary. He drank from Y/N willingly."

~:*:~

Stefan walked towards his brother near the river, who didn't blink once, and sat down next to him. "I woke up last night. I didn't know where I was. I went to the church. And I watched them drag her inside. Both of them . . . . then they set fire to it. And the whole church went up into flames," Damon explained and stared blankly at nothing. He then looked up to his younger brother with such vulnerability that Stefan had never seen before. "They killed them, Stefan. She's gone," he began sobbing, taking shaky and long breaths to try and calm himself down.

~:*:~

The night previous was the worst night of Y/N's life since she found her entire family dead back in 1492. The love of her life was shot, she was taken by hunters, and betrayed by her sister. While the vampires were being loaded into the church, Katherine compelled one of the guards to let her go. Not both of them like she had promised. She promised. Y/N knew her sister, and she knew she wasn't the best person in the world, but when she promises something to her, she always keeps it. Only to her, though. Everyone else doesn't matter enough to Katherine to keep promises. Y/N was her only family left, and she'd never admitted it, but Katherine needed her.

But that night, she realized just how weak her sister really was. She got penetrated by her feelings for Damon, and that cost her to lose Katherine's respect towards her. Y/N was useless to her. So she let her rot in that tomb along with Pearl and all the others.

She was selfish and cruel, but she didn't care. Like she's done since 1492, she takes care of herself first. Not her sister. Not her friends. Or even Stefan. Herself.

~:*:~

*Mystic Falls, Virginia: The Church Tomb; Present Day*

"Look, he needs leverage. He needs to know that you're not going to shut the door when he gets inside. I get it. I'll go," Elena cut off the argument between Damon and Sheila.

"May I?" Damon sniggered and grabbed a torch. The vampire dragged the doppelganger inside.

"What is that?" Elena whimpered in fear.

"They can sense you. Now, where is she?" the 25-year-old mumbled. He ran off, leaving Elena by herself in a tomb full of vampires.

"Damon!" Elena cried and looked around in the darkness, getting slightly frightened.

Damon searched for Y/N or even Katherine as fast as he could, trying not to trip over the bodies of decaying vampires. He looked over the tomb three times before starting to get furious.

"She's not down here. She's not even here!" the vampire screamed in pain as Stefan ran down next to him.

"What is it?" Stefan asked frantically for once, concerned for his brother.

"She's not here!" the older Salvatore barked and threw the blood bag he had brought for Y/N into the wall before letting out another cry. Y/N had placed herself in the very dark and secluded corner when she first arrived in the tomb. She didn't take any of Pearl's attempts to comfort her, and she hadn't opened her mouth to speak in 145 years. The last words she said was a sad whisper to her sister as she was shoved into the church.

She heard the Salvatore's voices and soon saw Damon with Stefan chasing after him as he let out his anger. She tried to yell to Damon but could barely part her lips.

"It doesn't make sense they locked her inside," Damon uttered.

"If we don't leave now, we're not getting out," Stefan stated firmly, but Damon kept muttering to himself.

"Damon," Y/N croaked, that was so quiet she wouldn't have been heard if it wasn't for the amazing hearing provided with vampirism. The two brothers snapped their heads to where the voice came from and saw the dirty fabric of a corset poking out from the blackness.

Both Salvatore's ran over to the corner and saw a lean figure slouched down. "Y/N?" Damon whispered and reached into the darkness, feeling the decayed skin of a hand. The older vampire handed the torch to Stefan and nudged Y/N out from the corner into the light.

The brothers gasped once they saw the iconic curly black hair that came with the Pierce sisters. "Y/N? Y/N, love, here. Come here," Damon bit his wrist before bringing it to Y/N's lips. Once it fell onto her tongue, she snapped alive and clutched onto her lover's wrist.

"Damon!" Elena shouted, but everyone ignored her until she ran in. "Please," she begged, but once she saw the eldest Salvatore feeding a vampire, her expression softened.

"Come on, Damon. She can feed later," Stefan rushed, and Damon stood Y/N up. She stumbled, but Damon caught her and picked her up bridal style. The three started running out, with Y/N clutching onto Damon's leather jacket. Once they got out, everyone let out a sigh of relief.

The fire went out, and the two Bennetts started panting as they unlinked hands. Stefan pulled Elena to his chest, but the younger Salvatore looked over to his older brother. Damon was looking at Y/N in pure horror at what's happened to her but also such joy that she's in his arms again.

Stefan let go of Elena and went over to his brother. Without one word, he patted Damon's shoulder and gestured up the stairs.

~:*:~

Back at the Salvatore boarding house, Damon walked up to his room without another word, with Y/N still encased in his arms. He set her down on his bed and walked into his large bathroom, turning on the shower. He went back over Y/N, who was still too weak to move well.

He slowly stripped her of her dress and other garments until she was completely bare. He lifted her back up and brought her to the shower. He set her down on the ground, and with his clothes still on; he washed the Pierce with tenderness.

~:*:~

Once Y/N was fully washed, dressed in some of Damon's clothes, and fixed up, Damon went downstairs and got her two blood bags. When he arrived, he sat down in the bed next to her and pulled her into him. As she downed the blood bags, her skin began to lose the greyness and plump back to its original form. Once she was done, she exhaled in euphoria.

Damon grabbed both bags and set them on the nightstand. Now, Y/N moved almost to her full ability and felt both physically and mentally stronger. She turned around to face Damon, who's face was serious. Every feature was tensed, and it looked almost sad.

"Thank you, Damon," the Pierce whispered and smiled lightly. She was going to kiss his cheek when he dodged her, making Y/N shoot him a hurt look. "What's wrong, love?" she questioned and ran her cold hand across his neck. He looked so different from what she last remembered. She knew the transformation would change him but not this much. His jaw was sharper, eyebrows thicker, hair shorter and straight, which she didn't particularly enjoy. His hair was one of her favorite parts of him; he looked older even though he couldn't age, shoulders were broader and more muscular, which made him heavier. However, he was still lean, and his eyes . . . . oh god, his eyes. They didn't look bright and lively like they were when he was human. They looked duller, sadder, and the most noticeable feature was how if you looked at them the right way, they pierced into your soul. Not in a good way. In almost a scary way. Or at least, it was scary for Y/N.

"Talk to me, Damon," she pleaded.

Damon's sharp eyes fell on hers and, without blinking, asked, "what the hell happened?"

Y/N was taken back by his language even though it wasn't bad, but Damon never swore. Ever. She pushed her shock aside and looked at him straight in the eye even though she didn't enjoy it. "That night in 1864, Katerina betrayed me. She compelled the guard of the church to let her go. She had a plan to escape long before they caught us, and she even talked to me about leaving Mystic Falls," she began explaining as Damon showed no emotions. "She promised me that we would escape together and that once we turned you and Stefan that I could be with you forever. Just like we planned. But I guess she changed her mind or something because she only compelled the guard to free her. Not me. So, I was left in that tomb with the rest of them. I don't know where Katerina is or why she did what she did, but it's something I can't deal with right now," once she finished, Y/N went quiet as Damon gazed at her.

"I'm sorry . . . . I'm sorry I didn't save you that night. I promised that I would protect you against my father, but I guess I was too weak. Hell, I couldn't even get the damn door down," the Salvatore groaned and placed his hands over his eyes. He took a deep breath and soon removed them.

Before he could look at Y/N again, her lips collided with his. He grunted in surprise but quickly kissed back. He had been starved of her kisses for too long, and he finally got to taste her again after more than a century. He was finally back with his love.

[curiosity-killed]

evidence of a lost past part 6

Cw: anxiety attack, body dysmorphia, disordered eating, implied grooming — Xie Lian feels anxious and upset during a conversation with Jun Wu and fixates on how his body composition has shifted in the years since he left professional dance and thinks about purging & disordered eating. He recognizes that this isn’t a healthy or fair reaction and doesn’t act on it but does still explicitly focus on it for part of the conversation.

takes place before part 3

His phone rings while he’s pulling grass out of the kale bed, interrupting the cheerful melody of a pop song he doesn’t recognize. He doesn’t usually play music when he’s working, but Haven, a younger volunteer, had taken one look at his phone and whipped out a charger first thing in the morning before he could say anything. With the battery set to last for the whole day, he allows himself thirty minutes of listening to music on it before he turns it off again. He’s smiling as he reaches for the pause button on his earbuds, flushing a little at the thought that Hua Cheng might be calling. They’d been texting this morning, the reason his battery was so drained, but he’d told Hua Cheng he wouldn’t be able to reply as well while he was digging in the beds. Trust Hua Cheng to think of this solution. “Hello!” he greets, wiggling his fingers down into the soil to get a good grip around the base of the weed. “Xianle.”

Fingers knuckle-deep in the dirt, Xie Lian freezes. There’s only ever been one person who calls him that, and the sound of his voice makes Xie Lian’s heart jackrabbit. Swallowing, he eases his fingers out of the dirt and kneels back. “Jun Wu?” he asks. Despite promising to stay in touch all those years ago, he hasn’t heard from the older man since he left the company. He’d been too embarrassed to reach out, not wanting to take advantage of Jun Wu’s generosity and kindness. “It’s been too long, Xianle,” Jun Wu says now, a gentle reprimand. Wiping his fingers on his jeans absently, Xie Lian brushes his hair back from his face with his other hand. Hearing Jun Wu’s even voice, always so elegant and controlled, makes him suddenly conscious of his dirty jeans cuffed at his ankles, his fraying gardening hat and dirt-smeared cheeks. “Ah, I’m sorry,” he says. “It has been a long time.” “I had hoped to hear from you during these years,” Jun Wu says. There’s a hint of chastisement in his tone, but worse than that is the concern, the disappointment. During his brief time in the company, Xie Lian had known nothing but kindness and support from Jun Wu. He’d been spoiled by it—though no one had quite been willing to point it out so bluntly. Early on, Jun Wu had noticed his promise and taken Xie Lian under his wing. Such treatment was a rare gift, not to be spoiled on someone unworthy. Even at the end, Jun Wu had made sure Xie Lian had his phone number and urged Xie Lian to call him—when he was settled, if he needed any help, just to let him know that Xie Lian was still alive and out there. Guilt twists Xie Lian’s stomach, makes it ache abruptly. “I’m sorry,” he says again, more quietly. “I meant to call, it just—” He falters, unsure of how to continue. Is it even true that he meant to call? Hadn’t he just stuffed Jun Wu’s number into a jacket pocket and never looked at it again? He hunches in with his arm wrapped around his stomach, fingers pinching hard into the skin along his side. His fingers squeeze the flesh there until his guilt is mixed with a familiar queasiness. He’s glad Jun Wu can’t see him abruptly, not just for the clothes he’s wearing but because of how he looks as well. Over the years, he’s grown thicker and broader—filling out with bulkier muscles from hauling heavy boxes and furniture at his various jobs and with a squishier layer over top so that his abs are only visible if he flexes. He certainly couldn’t wear the costumes that were tailored to his shape for performances. “A lot happened,” he finishes. “Xianle needn’t apologize so much,” Jun Wu says gently. “I only worried about your wellbeing.” Chewing on his bottom lip, Xie Lian resists the urge to say sorry again. Jun Wu really is too compassionate, always so understanding. “It would be good to see you again,” Jun Wu says after a quiet moment. “Mm,” Xie Lian mumbles. He can’t shake the uneasiness that’s settled deep in his belly, making his own skin feel strange and uncomfortable to him. He doesn’t think so much about his body anymore usually; some part of him is aware that he hasn’t always had a healthy relationship with it and so he’s tried, in the last few years, to be more patient, a little gentler. Still, there are—moments. “Think about it,” Jun Wu says. “You could come take class or observe. I would be glad to see you, Xianle.” He hangs up after Xie Lian mumbles out a noncommittal noise that’s neither agreement nor dismissal and they say goodbye. Immediately, the pop music Xie Lian had been listening to floods back in, and he flinches, fumbling as he tries to hit the pause button. His hand is too clumsy, and he tugs the earbuds out entirely instead. Dropping them on his lap, he bows over and forces himself to breathe. He’s fine. He’s fine. The sun is warm on his shoulders, the ground presses steadily against his knees. He is sitting in the garden at Puqi Community Center, he doesn’t have rehearsals or cameras waiting, he can wear his baggy jeans with the ragged holes and his baggy t-shirt. Still, his breath comes too quickly as if it can’t quite escape his chest, and his stomach squeezes with a familiar, ugly urge to vomit. He doesn’t—he never has, but there were times standing in his dressing room or alone in his apartment when he would think maybe. Just to try. To see if it helped. Jun Wu always seemed to catch on, another way he always looked out for Xie Lian. He’s the one who told Xie Lian how stomach acid can eat away the enamel on one’s teeth, dissolve the pretty white smile the cameras loved. Better to be mindful about what went in in the first place and how it balanced with training and exercise. He was always going out of his way to help Xie Lian, guide him gently into a promising future. No one could ever say that Jun Wu hadn’t tried his best for Xie Lian. Pressing the heels of his palms into his eyebrow ridge, Xie Lian draws in a stuttering breath and forces himself to slowly unbend. He picks up the earbuds mechanically, turns off his phone. Any more surprises and he really might be sick. He turns back to the kale and digs his fingers into the earth, closing tight around the dandelion base and tugging. The roots cling, stubborn, but another yank brings them shivering into the light, finely furred in dark soil. Tossing it to the side, he reaches for the next and buries his thoughts among the weeds.

[ibelieveinharrystyles]

Chapter One: You Bring Me Home

Always Golden Masterlist

August 2019

Harry was lonely, isolated in fact. He was part of an industry full of creative and wonderful people, yet he was still alone. He lay in the bed in Anne’s spare room, staring at the blank ceiling, compared to the ceiling in his childhood bedroom it was lifeless, his old ceiling was covered in marks from all the times he had tried to catapult toys into  the air as a child, convinced they could fly. He really must have been alone if he was that deep in thought about his beloved ceiling. If he was completely honest he had no clue why he was back home, since the fallout with Ashley he had felt lost in London, opting to spend months in Japan and Italy. Half of him hoped he might accidentally bump into her, he knew full well it was Linda’s birthday, and he knew what Ashley was like, she wouldn’t want her mum spending her birthday alone. 

His lonely thoughts were interrupted by a light tap on the door, he shot up as his mum entered the room, “Morning love, I’ve got bacon for sandwiches, but no bread, you couldn’t run down to the bakery could you and grab a loaf?” Anne asked, her charm and grace echoing through the room.

“Of course mum, give me five and I’ll be on my way.” Harry hauled himself out of bed, grabbing the first pair of jeans and a yellow t-shirt from his suitcase. He slipped on a pair of vans and made his way downstairs and out into the early morning summer sun. As much as he loved the big cities he was lucky enough to travel to, Harry always found comfort in Holmes Chapel, maybe it was the people, maybe it was the pace of life, whatever it was, it put him at ease. The walk into the village wasn't a long one, just long enough to listen to a couple of the demos for his next album, something he was incredibly proud of.

“Barbara! Look who it is!” Harry stepped into the bakery, the familiar smell of fresh bread and cakes hitting him almost instantly, “How’ve you been Harry?” Claire asked from behind the counter.

“I’m good, just popped up to see mum for the weekend, she’s run out of bread, so I said I’d grab her a loaf.” Harry explained.

“Well Barbara’s just unpacking some, I’ll see if she has any of Anne’s favourites.” Claire disappeared into the backroom, leaving Harry with no one but the massive poster of teenage him for company. 

“Mummy can I get a rainbow donut?” A young voice asked as the door to the bakery swung open, not wanting to get in anyone’s way, Harry stepped back staring at the reply Gemma had sent him about what they were getting Anne for her birthday.

“I don’t think they do those here poppet, I think they’re a London thing.” Harry’s heart jumped, he looked up at the woman and her daughter stood looking at the cake counter, it was her, it was Ashley. She looked different, her once brunette hair now had a golden haze to it, and she had a different glow about her. “What do you want then monkey? The gingerbread man or the pink cupcake?” Harry admired the sweet interaction, not wanting to interrupt or cause a scene.

“Pink cake please mummy, and can we get one for Nanny’s birthday?” Harry watched in awe, the little baby he had once cradled in his arms was now an adorable little lady, the spitting image of her mum.

“Ashley! It’s wonderful to see you!” Claire chimed as she returned with Harry’s bread, “How long are you up here for?” 

“We’re heading home tomorrow morning,” Ashley glanced at Claire, who was looking straight past her at Harry who stood awkwardly at the back of the shop, with no clue how to handle the situation. She turned to see what Claire was looking at, the man who she hadn’t seen she stormed away from him in the middle of Hammersmith. 

She wavered on her feet, he looked well, he had clearly been working out more since the last time she saw him, his shoulders were broader. His hair was tousled in its usual messy yet styled way, as always he was exceptionally dressed, leaving Ashley feeling very underdressed in her jeans and Live Aid t-shirt. “Long time no see.” Harry whispered, struggling to find words to end the awkward silence.

“There’s a reason for that,” Ashley replied bitterly, handing Claire the money and taking the cakes from the counter, “And you bloody well know why.” She took her daughter’s hand and pulled her from the bakery, the pair striding back to the car where Will sat waiting. 

“Who was that man mummy?” Daisy asked as Ashley opened the car door.

“No one darling, no one you need to worry about.”

“What was that all about?” Claire asked, handing Harry his loaf of bread.

“I was an idiot a while back, I don’t think she’s forgiven me, and frankly I can’t blame her.” Harry explained.

“You two were great together, thicker than thieves, I remember when you both got your saturday jobs here. Dynamic duo we called you.” Claire smiled, she was right, Harry had fond memories of washing up beside Ashley, singing Shania Twain and Joni Mitchell songs as they made their way through a mountain of dirty trays and plates.

“Clearly we’re just not the same people we used to be.” Harry replied, handing Claire a five pound note as she passed him the fresh loaf, “Have a lovely day Claire, keep the change.”

“Daisy, sit still please,” Ashley sighed, it was a cool summer evening and she was sitting in the passenger seat of Will’s broken down car. They were meant to be taking Linda out for her birthday, but Will’s car had decided to throw a spanner in the works. Daisy, like any other three year old was grizzly, and getting restless. “Will, for christ sake just call the breakdown people.” Ashley huffed as her boyfriend stood with the bonnet up trying to work out what was wrong with the car. 

“What do you think I’ve done?” Will sighed, “They said it’ll be a two hour wait.” 

“Brilliant, bloody brilliant. Sorry about this mum, I had hoped we’d be there soon, but who knows at this point.” 

After another half an hour, Will was still adamant he knew what to do, Daisy had been through all sorts of tantrums. Just as Ashley was about to give up another vehicle pulled up beside them, expecting it to be the breakdown service, Will put the bonnet down to see the headlights didn’t belong to a van, but rather a large Audi pulled up instead. The driver wound down the window as Will approached, “Do you need any help?” The man in the car asked.

“Not sure how much you can do for me mate, think this one is passed it.” Will explained.

“In that case can I give you a lift somewhere?” He asked.

“Are you sure? there’s four of us, we’re on the way to dinner.” Will explained.

“It’s not a problem, honestly.”

“Cheers mate, I’ll let my girlfriend know, I’m Will by the way.” He smiled.

“Harry.” The audi driver smiled.

Will returned to his car, “This guy’s going to give us a lift, said he’ll drop us in town.” he explained to Ashley who was getting fed up with waiting.

“Perfect!” she chimed, climbing out of the car, she took Daisy out of the back to get her into the new car. As she opened the back door, the driver turned to face her, offering a warm smile. Talk about convenient, the one person she had hoped to avoid was going to drive her and her family to dinner. 

The car ride was almost silent, apart from Daisy talking about all sorts of nonsense. Eventually Will managed to put two and two together, realising who Harry actually was. They pulled up outside the restaurant and Linda turned to Harry, “Thank you so much for that Harry love, I owe you for that.” 

“It’s not a problem Linda, honestly, I was coming this way anyway.” Harry assured her.

“Why don’t you join us?” Linda smiled, this was all Ashley needed.

“I wouldn’t want to intrude, honestly.” Harry replied.

“I’m sure Harry’s a busy man.” Will muttered bitterly from the back seat.

“Harry it’s my birthday, and I want to say thank you, you’re joining us.” Linda insisted.

Dinner was awkward to say the least, the waiter had just come to collect their empty dinner plates, and Ashley couldn’t help but wait for it to be over. Daisy was transfixed on Harry, seeing as she couldn’t remember him, he was far more new and exciting than anyone else sat around that table. Harry sat beside Linda, who was doing her very best to keep the conversation civil. “So Harry, when are we getting new music? Ash got me a record player for my birthday and I’m itching to buy some records for it.” Linda told him.

“I’m hoping, if everything goes to plan, to have it out by the end of the year.” 

“Sounds wonderful Harry, I have missed you awfully,” Linda smiled, to her Harry was like the son she never had, she adored him completely, so when a wedge was driven between Harry and Ashley, she was heartbroken to say the least, Linda noticed the stale atmosphere, and decided to remove herself from the situation, “Tell you what Daisy, shall we go and see if we can find the puddings?” Linda asked, taking Daisy’s hand and leading her over to the bar.

“She’s grown up a lot hasn’t she?” Harry said, gesturing towards Daisy, in an attempt to make some sort of conversation.

“Yeah, she starts nursery next month,” Ashley smiled gently, appreciating Harry’’s desire to keep things civil.

“I mean you’d know that, if you’d been around for the past two years.” Will told him sternly, Ashley hadn’t ever seen Will like that before, maybe it was jealousy, maybe it was something else. He had a vague idea of the fallout between Harry and Ashley, and he knew about their history.

“Will, leave it out.” Ashley replied, trying not to cause a scene, knowing pictures of Harry would end up plastered all over tomorrow's news. 

“Well it’s not like he’s been there to see her grow up is it?” Will chimed in again.

“And I suppose you have?” Harry replied, “I supported Ashley and Daisy as much as I possibly could in her first year.” 

“Throwing money at a problem doesn’t make it go away.” Will answered back.

“I hold my hands up, I spent a fair amount of money on Ashley and Daisy, but one thing that never changed, is the love I have for them both, I treated Daisy like she was my own daughter and I would sure as hell do it again.” Ashley was taken aback by Harry’s little speech, she didn’t expect Harry to be so honest about where he went wrong.

“I appreciate the sentiment, but they have me now.” Will told him bluntly.

“You’re right, they do. This was a bad idea,” Harry stood up, taking his wallet from the pocket of his trousers, “Take this for the meal, I’ve cost you enough trouble.”

“We don’t need your money.” Will replied.

“I know you don’t, I know how much Ash earns, but I want to treat my friend, so that's what I’m doing, have a lovely evening.” Harry placed the wad of cash on the table before turning to leave. Ashley let out a sigh as he left the restaurant, rolling her eyes at Will.

“What?” Will asked.

“You just couldn’t help yourself could you?” Ashley replied.

“Hang on a minute, last thing you told me, you said you never wanted to see the face of that jumped up egotistical walking gucci campaign ever again.”

“Those are your words, not mine.” Ashley told him forcefully.

“I’m not wrong though am I? He used you and when he got bored you were hung out to dry, you’re better off out of it.” Will said sternly, taking a sip of his beer.

It’s more complicated than that Will, and I’m afraid it always will be.”

[elisela]

honeymoon suite buck x eddie, 1.3k (nc17 for buck’s daydreams) For @madamewriterofwrongs​ who gave me the “that is without a doubt the stupidest plan you’ve ever had. Of course I’m in,” prompt, and for @carlosreyes who said “buff dad eddie in a suit” caused this to pop into my head fully formed.

He should have known the plan was doomed to fail, especially once Eddie had looked at him and said “Buck, this is without a doubt the stupidest plan you’ve ever had. Of course I’m in,” and had slid his hand into Buck’s back pocket without the slightest hesitation, pressed so close to his side as they strolled up the hotel reception and announced they were on their honeymoon that daylight could not be seen between them.

Oh, the plan had worked wonderfully—a few indulgent smiles aimed at each other, Eddie’s appraising look sweeping over his body and sinful grin at the mention of a honeymoon suite, and the very, very real flush that had found its way onto Buck’s face when Eddie had whispered, loudly, “I can’t wait to get you in that room, baby,”—and they’re standing in the doorway to their suite, eyes focused on the large balcony and open ocean beyond.

Eddie’s arm is still around his waist.

The plan had worked wonderfully, but Buck—Buck is so fucking screwed.

Eddie whistles beside him and Buck nods along, taking in the view. It’s nice, much nicer than the double room they had booked for the long weekend for Maddie and Chim’s more formal wedding (Buck was no longer allowed to call it her second wedding, even though he insists it’s the right term—she and Chim had gotten married at the courthouse while she was pregnant with Joy, and technically, this celebration is the second), but when Buck had been daydreaming about the jacuzzi tub and large balcony to lay around on, he had conveniently forgotten that they were exchanging two double beds for one very big one. They’ve slept in the same bed before; he’s crashed in Eddie’s more times than he can count for various reasons, most of them having to do with Christopher, and Eddie’s spent the night in his after a few drinks. It’s not unusual, it’s something he wouldn’t even think twice about at home anymore, but here in the doorway of a honeymoon suite, he thinks he’s probably the biggest idiot on the planet if he thought he could get through a weekend with this type of proximity, this intimacy.

Eddie’s arm is still around his waist.

It’s the only thing he can think about, the perfect weight of it, the way Eddie’s palm rests just above his belt, fingers curved around his hip with enough pressure that he feels them in a way that’s achingly comforting. And just as he’s getting used to it, just as he’s relaxing into the feeling of Eddie’s affection, as he gives himself a moment to pretend and feel out his future, Eddie withdraws his arm enough to rest his hand on the small of Buck’s back and propel him forward.

“We are gonna get some use out of that,” Eddie says, and Buck, who had been eyeing the bed, wills his body not to react to the image that goes through his mind, of Eddie below him, sweat matting down his hair and the fading sun casting his skin in a golden light, writhing under Buck’s attention, hands fisted into Buck’s hair and on his shoulder as he takes Eddie into his mouth, because Eddie is definitely looking at the balcony and he is clearly not seeing the possibilities that Buck is.

Buck clears his throat and lets the scene in his head die out, replaces it with something more tame, something infinitely more in the realm of possibility, like waking up to Eddie’s arm slung around his waist and Eddie’s embarrassed smile when he opens his eyes. “We only have an hour to get to the restaurant,” he says. “You want the first shower?”

Eddie’s hand falls away from his back and Buck takes a moment to mourn the loss. He unpacks for both of them while the water runs and Eddie’s terrible singing voice floats over to him, chuckling softly as he hangs their suits and stashes everything else in drawers, inspects the shoes he polished the night before at Eddie’s to make sure they hadn’t been scuffed up on the flight over.

He tries not to look when Eddie comes out of the shower, towel slipping around his hips, held up by a careless hand, but he doesn’t have to look to know the slight definition of his abs, his broader waist, filled out by the hours of work Buck has made him put into weight training during their downtime at the station. It’s that thought that carries him into the shower and holds his attention while sticks his head under the spray and wraps a hand around himself, stroking slowly to the idea of sinking down on his knees and getting his hands on Eddie’s hips, fitting his thumbs against hip bones, Eddie’s hands on the back of his head and neck while he thrusts into Buck’s mouth. He bites his tongue to muffle the choked off sound of his orgasm, washes quickly and tells himself once again that he’s going to stop jerking off to his best friend like a creep.

“That’s a new suit,” he says as soon as he steps out of the room and gets a look at Eddie, standing near the mirror as he fits cufflinks onto his unbuttoned shirt. Fuck, Eddie looks good. Eddie’s always looked good, but now Eddie looks good, looks like he could withstand Buck tossing him around a little as he fucked him, like he could give it back as good as he got it.

Buck’s always been attracted to him, from the day he stepped into the 118 and gave Buck his first glimpse of chiseled abs and slim hips, but if he had thought Eddie was attractive then—Eddie has nothing on himself from that day. He’s thicker all around, filled out, his strength more obvious now, not able to be hidden behind button downs and navy blue slacks. Buck’s eyes trace his broad shoulders and the collarbones that sometimes peek out from his shirt, desperate to run his tongue over them, to bite down on Eddie’s shoulders as they fall into bed, to fit his hands around defined biceps and pin Eddie down. The thin undershirt does nothing to hide his pecs from Buck’s view, the drape of his white button down calls attention to the straight line of his hips, so different from the curve Buck had seen the first time Eddie was shirtless.

He can’t stop himself, feels like he’s stuck in the doorway of the bathroom, taking in Eddie’s thick thighs, flicking his gaze up to the steady, capable hands that have stilled near Eddie’s stomach, shirt buttons forgotten as Eddie looks at Buck.

Buck, who is not clearly not hiding anything right now.

Fuck.

“You like it?” Eddie says, quietly, far too quietly and hesitantly for someone who can see what’s written on Buck’s face, all the love and longing he holds for Eddie put on display.

Maybe Buck had been better about hiding how he felt than he thought, but the way Eddie is looking at him—unsure, doubtful, two emotions that Buck never wants him to feel when it comes to knowing just what sort of love Buck holds for him, platonic or otherwise—makes him cross the room, gently move Eddie’s hands out of the way and reach for his shirt, buttoning it up carefully. “You look really good, Eds,” he says softly, slipping the last button through and letting his hands slide up to Eddie’s shoulders, one around the back of his neck, finally looking at Eddie’s face.

Eddie’s looking at him, eyes a little wide, like he can’t believe what’s happening; his hands come up, hold onto Buck’s waist and Buck steps closer and tilts his forehead down at Eddie’s touch against his bare skin, resting it against Eddie’s. “This—I wasn’t expecting this,” he says, breath ghosting over Buck’s lips.

“It is our honeymoon,” Buck says, and Eddie huffs a breath out of his nose, shaking his head gently. “I should be able to kiss a guy on my honeymoon, shouldn’t I?”

“You could have kissed me anytime,” Eddie says—

So Buck does.