#my calves are way bigger than my arms

[cleanchip]

[temptresstitania]

if it doesn't sound fetishistic to say you're attracted to people with long hair or freckles or wide hips or dark brown eyes that look almost black, then it shouldn't sound fetishistic to say you're attracted to fat people. If it's not inherently a fetish to say you like people with sculpted backs or toned arms or six packs or small breasts or a coke bottle figure, then why would it be fetishistic to like a soft face with a double chin, or a round stomach, or big legs rippling with cellulite or stretch marks on rolls. you can find a fat person attractive. you can love the way their cheeks press up to meet the corners of their eyes, or the way their arms look, or the way their love handles spill out of their clothes. you can just. like fat people. you can say you like fat people. do you ever think how strange it is? how someone may think you're some sort of "perverse" weirdo for just...liking a body? how strange it is to put these precursory disclaimers of "not to be weird, but", "I don't mean it in that way, but", "I'm not a chubby chaser, but", or "I know it's kind of problematic, but..." could you imagine if it was any other body?

"not to sound like a muscle gain fetishist, but I love women with athletic bodies. It might sound weird, but I love short kings. I don't mean it in a weird way, but I love girls with hip dips."

It would seem strange. unnecessary. one may even assume there is some sort of guilt or fear you're hiding because it's normal to have things you like. it's normal to find certain things cute, hot, sexy.

you can sexually desire fat people and enjoy that they are fat. you can do that.

also, if you genuinely have a fetish (or deep sexual attraction if u for whatever reason are uncomfortable with the word fetish) for something that is found on larger bodies (bellies, fupas, thighs, underarms with fat/breast tissue in them, sagging breasts, big arms with skin that wobbles, cankles), or for a bigger body in and of itself (because I know some of y'all still want to sever yourselves from this), there is nothing wrong with that. people have fetishes for hands and teeth and earlobes and kneecaps and butts and shoulders and calves. what makes their thing any more acceptable than yours? there is nothing wrong with being aroused by bigger bodies.

please do not add tags and reblog this with "except when such and such is involved". I am not bringing those situations up for a reason. do not attempt to pivot this post into a thinkpiece on the objectification and/or abuse of fat bodies, ESPECIALLY if you yourself are not fat.

this is coming from the perspective of a Black person. Namely, a Black Nigerian-American person. Where I come from, there is a cultural, pre-colonial practice of gaining weight (and yes, particularly getting fat) to accentuate beauty. my body was handed down to me lovingly by my ancestors. i love my fat.

and if you love it too, that's okay. ♡

[eringobragh420]

Pairing: Damian Priest x f!Reader Summary: Damian and his girlfriend disturb the peace. Warnings: NSFW, obviously, lol. Spanish translations are at the end of the story. I do not speak Spanish, so if anything is incorrect, please let me know and I’ll fix it! Fingering, oral (m and f receiving), dirty talk, rough sex, mild pain play, cum. Taglist: @eddiesrockstargirlfriend, @terrortwinunicorn. If you’d like to be added, please let me know! Requested By: @danithepenguin05-blog. Hope you enjoy! Notes: This one got away from me, but I loved the requester's idea so much lol

“You know, I’ve been watching you all night …��� She jumps at the voice coming from behind her, smiling when she can feel his warm breath ghost across her neck and bare shoulder. “And I think I’m gonna fuck you in that dress.”

Her grin widens, brow arching. “You might wanna be careful,” she advises, “my boyfriend is a big dude, and he gets really jealous.” She turns around, eyes climbing to meet the pair gazing down at her.

“Is he bigger than me?” Damian growls, puffing his chest out as much as he can in the confines of a button-down shirt, vest, and suit jacket, somehow making himself seem even taller than his normal six-five. 

“Oh, damn,” she purrs, closing the space between them. “You’re way bigger. Let’s get out of here.”

“And fuck you in that dress?” Damian repeats, eyes sliding down the garment in question—a deep purple ruched midi-dress with one sleeve and an asymmetrical hem that hugs every one of her curves, even ones she didn’t know she had but was excited to find just the same. His hands claim her hips, sliding back to her ass, possessive in his Priestly way, and she beams up at him. Her hands glide up his chest, straightening the tie she’d had to tie for him before clutching at the lapels. She inhales his cologne and body wash and the scent that is simply Damian, and her heart flutters, pussy dampening at the same time. The control he has over her should be studied by science.

“And fuck me in this dress,” she whispers, pulling him into a kiss that starts as a peck, but when she tries to pull away, his long arms wrap themselves around her. She giggles against his lips, her own arms snaking round his neck only when he bends his knees and comes closer to her height.

“We better get going,” Damian mumbles. He leans sideways and glances down at her silver heels—the ones that have diamond-encrusted bows on the toes, the excess of which provocatively climb her calves. “Because I think I wanna fuck you in those heels, too, and I know you’re not gonna last much longer before you whip out the chanclas.”

She throws her head back with a laugh. “Well in that case … Priest, you big stud. Take me to bed or lose me forever.” She’s given universal consent with a quote from their favorite movie to watch together, and the change in her boyfriend’s demeanor is palpable.

Damian releases her only to drop his arm around her shoulders, and she reaches up to interlace their fingers. She’s smiling up at him, adoring, as she usually does, when she notices the Three Stooges headed their way, all of them leaning on each other, none of them able to walk in a straight line. They stumble over JD, who is passed out with his head on a plate of salad. Damian glances down at her, shaking his head, and she takes the hint, averting her gaze in the opposite direction. Together, they pick up their pace.

“Guys, wait!” Dom hollers behind them.

“Nope,” Damian grumbles so only she can hear, and they continue on.

“Don’t leave us hangin’!” Finn slurs.

The couple continues on, waving goodbyes to friends in passing, blissfully, though not really, ignorant to the whining that seems to be following them.

“Besties,” Rhea cajoles, then exclaims, “oh, shit!” just before a stomp, a thud, and three dummies giggling. Damian and his girlfriend slow to a stop and look at each other.

“There’s like a 70 percent chance they’ll die if we leave them here,” she says.

Damian rolls his eyes, nods, and turns to their friends, waving his arm for them to hurry up. And once they arrive at the rental SUV, Damian stuffs all three of his inebriated friends into the backseat, slamming the door in Dom’s face when he asks if they can stop for chicken tenders on the way to the hotel. Rolling his neck, he straightens his suit before turning to his girlfriend, who’s patiently waiting near the front passenger door. He opens it for her, taking her hand and helping her inside before closing the door and making his way around to the driver’s side.

“No, but seriously,” Dom says, poking his face between the front seats. She glances at him, his cheeks rosy from the alcohol, and then she looks at Damian, catching him taking yet another deep, calming breath through his nose. “I was lookin’ on my phone earlier and there’s this place that’s open late that has tendies …” He begins searching the pockets of his suit. “Hey, hey, who has my phone?”

“Whoops,” Rhea giggles from behind her, and Dom reaches over Finn.

“Give it back!” Dom exclaims.

“Get your arm outta my face!” Finn says, shoving Dom’s arm away.

“Tell her to give me my phone back!”

“Give him his bloody phone back!”

“I know his passcode,” Rhea taunts.

Suddenly Dom’s own shiny black shoes bounce between the front seats as Finn launches him into the trunk area of the SUV.

“Well, open it already! What are you waitin’ for?” Finn shouts, holding Dom back as he both fights to climb over the seat and grab his phone from Rhea at the same time.

“If this is what having kids is like, you can forget it,” Damian remarks, making a left turn out of the parking lot. His girlfriend watches the street- and headlights bounce off his handsome features, smiling when he places his hand on her thigh, lifting her dress just a little.

“I’m not really concerned with that right now,” she quietly replies. The three in the back are still arguing and paying no attention to what’s going on in the front. Damian looks at her, and she lifts her hips, tugging the bottom of the dress up her legs until the very tops of her thighs are visible. His eyes return to the road to be sure he’s still in his lane, snapping back to her as she places her hand atop his, beginning to slowly drag it up her satiny skin.

Damian’s rough fingers make first contact with her bare slit, and he casts another glance in her direction. Her grin is wicked as she licks her lips, rolling her hips against his touch wantonly. His left hand grips the steering wheel, he adjusts the positioning of his own hips, and his middle finger slips within her folds. He massages the tiny nub in slow circles, torturing, before gliding his touch up and down, easily causing her pussy to surge. She sighs, head falling back against the seat, and she bites her lip.

“Shit,” she whispers. She squeezes his solid forearm with both hands as she rides his gifted fingers. Slithering inside her, first with one finger, then two, he hooks them expertly, and her back bows. The raucous from the backseat, the very fact that she and Damian are not alone in such a tiny space, sends her into a shivering, inaudible orgasm quicker than is typical when he uses his fingers on her. She releases his arm, gaping as he brings those cum-coated digits to his perfect lips where he sucks them greedily into his mouth. His cheeks hollow with the suction, sculpting those bones exquisitely, her thighs instantly twitching. He pulls them from his mouth with a lewd pop, winking at the same time, and she knows exactly which direction things are headed once that hotel room door clicks closed behind them.

He opens her door after backing into a parking spot. He rearranges the bulge in his pants as he holds his other hand out for her. She makes a show of raising her hips so she can pull her dress back down to its original length before placing her manicured hand into his, carefully climbing out of the vehicle. Damian closes the door, leaning down to press his lips to her ear.

“I’m gonna fucking wreck you,” he says.

“Promise?” she murmurs, brows raising.

“You guys suck,” Dom complains, tumbling out of the back of the SUV. Finn and Rhea lean on one another, uncontrollable laughter passing back and forth between them. “Now everybody’s gonna think I’m weird.”

“You are weird,” Finn and Rhea snicker in unison.

Damian’s arm rests on her shoulders once more, their fingers again tangled, as the party of five boards the hotel elevator. Dom continues to whine about whatever Rhea and Finn did to him, which evidently has something to do with an embarrassing Twitter post. But their bickering slowly begins to fade into mere background noise, the three of them standing in front of her and she in front of Damian, and she snakes her hands behind her. Her nails clack against her boyfriend’s belt buckle, a sinister grin splitting her lips as they continue southward. She follows the zipper, the mechanism threatening to burst trying to hold back the monster hardening within, which she tenderly cups in both hands. Damian brings an arm around her shoulders and across her chest, the other enveloping her waist, and she rests her head against his pec, massaging his still-growing cock through his pants. His perfect mouth latches onto her ear, biting, kissing, sucking, moving onto her neck, making sure to touch all of her spots. She’s so distracted she doesn’t notice his hand sweeping back across her chest so he can fondle her breast, which further occupies her attention and keeps her from realizing he’s pulling the sleeveless side of her dress down until that bare breast falls out. He takes it into his hand again, groping obscenely, all the while feasting on her neck.

The ding of the elevator breaks the couple’s building tension, and Damian lifts her dress back into position before the doors slide open. They resume their customary holding of one another as they follow their three friends into the hallway, Damian having to redirect them from turning right to turning left. The lump in his slacks is incredibly conspicuous, but he doesn’t try to hide it, and she doesn’t blame him—he has a lot to be proud of. She waits by their room door as he snatches the key card out of Finn’s hand, knowing none of the inebriated three will be able to operate the machine. He herds them inside, not even bothering to take Rhea to her room, and closes the door before they can make any more requests.

She backs slowly into their room as Damian stalks her. He regards her with a tilt of his head, stealthily reaching back to turn the lock on the door after it clicks closed. He casually starts toward her, opening his suit jacket and allowing it to slide down his arms. He catches it in one hand and lays it on a nearby dresser. Her breathing accelerates and she chews on the inside of her cheek as he unbuttons the cuffs on his shirt, rolling the sleeves halfway up his forearms like he’s about to take on a task that’s going to last for hours.

“I love that dress,” he tells her, closing the space between them.

She smiles. “Well thank you.” She runs her hands up his chest, over the vest this time, applying a small amount of pressure just so she can feel how hard his muscles are. “I thought you might like … the easy access.” Her hands come down his abdomen and she takes hold of the buckle on his belt. “And I—” She starts to unbuckle it. “—might like—” She unbuttons and unzips his pants. “—this big cock in my mouth.” 

Ahead of her descending to her knees, he grabs hold of her with his hands under her arms and he tosses her back onto the bed. A giggle nearly erupts, but Damian is leering at her in a way he’s never done before as his fists come down on the mattress, then his knees, and she backs up on her elbows. When she comes to the pillows, she bends a knee, lifts her leg, and Damian pauses his advance. He glances at the heel perched delicately on his against his shoulder, the diamond bows, the diamond ribbons ascending her calf, and when he returns his attention to her, his eyes are devoid of any color except sable and he’s wetting his lips.

“Lick me, Papí,” she says.

Damian chuckles softly, pressing a tender kiss to the inside of her ankle. “¿Qué dices?”

“Please, Papí, will you lick me?”

He seizes her thighs, spreading them, pushing them back toward her until her hips nearly come off the bed and her elbows collapse. She feels the cold from the air conditioner rush over her bare, wet pussy, sending a shudder throughout her body. She lifts her head only to have it fall back into the pillows again after watching Damian lick a hot stripe from her aching hole to the top of her slit. She groans and her back arches as she grabs at his ponytail of tiny braids, to which he responds by closing his lips around her clit and sucking, slurping, effortlessly holding her legs in place as she fights to close them around his head.

“Fuck,” she yelps, releasing his hair to reach back and grip the headboard. Damian releases one leg so he can pull her dress down until her breast spills out, and that heel lands on his back, digging in as much as she dares as she tries desperately to ride his tongue. Damian grunts, coming away from her pussy, and she looks down at him, worried the heel in his back is too painful. He glances behind him in the direction of the heel, and when he looks back, she’s not sure he’s the same person. This man must certainly be the devil—the onyx flames in his eyes and the impish slope to his grin supporting her hypothesis. He surrenders her other leg, and she instantly brings the heel down onto his back, because that’s where a devil would want it. His eyes close briefly, opening just before he attacks her pussy, assaulting every nerve-ending with every trick he knows. She cries out, heels burrowing even further as her body undulates, and gushes cum all over Damian’s gifted tongue.

Without warning, Damian pulls away, standing on the floor now at the foot of the bed, the bottom half of his face glistening with her juices, and he repossesses her legs. Before she has time to pout, he yanks her down the bed, a leg on either side of him. He reaches down and wraps his hand around her throat, pulling her into a sitting position, her hands immediately rummaging through his pants and briefs, reemerging with Damian’s cock and balls. She makes a show of spitting into the palm of her hand before sliding it down his rigid shaft. He leans down to kiss her, pulling back just as she attempts to accept the kiss. She glares, trying again to kiss him, only to be met with the same results.

“Papí,” she sulks.

“I want you to choke on this dick first,” he tells her, hand still clutching her throat, lifting to the point she’s nearly coming off the bed. She sighs, glowing, hand decelerating on his cock. “You know I like kissing you when your mouth’s a mess.”

She nods, waiting obediently for him to release her neck, and as soon as he does, she has his cock buried almost to the root in her throat before she gags, coughs, and has to come up for air.

“Fuck!” Damian shouts, one hand on the back of her head, the other on the side near her neck, as he thrusts into her mouth. She grasps the ends of his belt, simply using them for stability as Damian rides her face. After several pumps, he pulls out, strings of saliva and precum bridging her lips and his cock. Now he allows her to kiss him, groaning as their tongues twist and curl, and she knows he can taste his cock all over her mouth, just like he likes it.

He picks her up under the arms again and launches her just a few feet back on the bed. Snickering as she bounces, she watches as Damian sheds all of his clothes from the waist up before crawling on his knees to get between her legs. He takes one of her heels and arranges it on his chest. Rubbing the velvety head of his cock along her throbbing clit, she feels him press into the heel, so she adds resistance with her leg so it might go deeper.

“Goddamn,” he roars. He starts to push himself inside her, and she revels in the sensation of being split open as she gives a moan of her own.

“Mmm, Papí likes a little pain,” she coos. She gives him a shove with the heel, and he snarls, glaring down at her with a tilt of his head, and maybe she went too far, but they’re past the point of no return. “That’s hot.”

Damian’s hips surge forward, impaling her completely on his rock hard member, nearly bouncing her head off the headboard if not for the pillows. She cries out, gripping the wood that is fastened to the wall, making it safe from rattling. However, the mattress has a squeak, which sounds in time with Damian’s rapid thrusts. He wraps his fingers around her ankle, anchoring it to his chest, other hand groping her bare breast, and he has a steady, albeit aggressive, rhythm.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she chants with each and every pump, unknowingly increasing the force in her leg. “Fuck me, Papí!” she cries out, finishing with a whisper, “please … please …”

Damian cries out his own set of curses, and with one final surge forward, he releases inside her. His pace slows, but doesn’t stop for several moments. A smile grows on her bruised lips, and even though she’s positive her makeup and hair are both incredible messes right now, she doesn’t feel shame or embarrassment. Her boyfriend doesn’t need to see her painted and polished to perfection every moment of their lives. And anyway, he’d warned her of his intentions to wreck her. Eventually he pulls out, lying next to her, and moments later, the couple is snoring together—she still in her dress and heels, he still in his pants and shoes.

The next morning, following a refreshing joint shower, they collect their belongings—Damian handling the heavier items, always leaving with her as little as possible to carry—and as she’s holding the door for him, Dom, Finn, and Rhea exit their room, Rhea having retrieved her things from her room earlier. The threesome are already wearing sunglasses and share a similar pale complexion, but when they spot her and Damian, they collapse into giggles.

Brows furrowing, she asks, “What’s so funny?”

“Oh, nothin’,” Finn replies.

She glances at Damian, who shrugs and rolls his eyes. They all head to the elevator, the three amigos murmuring amongst one another, and she has no idea what’s going on, but she knows it has something to do with her and Damian. Everyone stuffs themselves and their luggage into the tiny box, Rhea punches the button for the lobby, and the doors close. This is the moment the three of them launch into a litany of moaning and groaning and one of them even imitates the sound of a squeaking bed.

“Fuck me, Papí,” Dom’s voice is many octaves higher than normal.

“Papí likes a little pain,” Rhea joins in.

Finn repeats almost verbatim Damian’s list of curses after he came, and for some reason, she doesn’t understand what they’re talking about until this point. She feels her cheeks erupt as if coated in lava, and she’s shell shocked a moment before turning to Damian, who already has his hoodie unzipped and one side of it opened. Mortified, she buries her burning face against his chest and he covers her with the jacket. The rest of the elevator ride is filled with snickers and imitations.

Once outside, she pushes ahead of the group, hurrying toward the rental when she hears the distinct sound of hands clapping. Turning, she catches Damian grinning like he just won the fucking lottery, sharing handshakes with the boys and a high-five with Rhea.

“Really?!”

** Chanclas - Flip flops ** Papí - Daddy ** ¿Qué dices? - What do you say?

[daycourtofficial]

Training Day

Summary: you ask Azriel to help you demonstrate some moves for training and it very quickly changes things

Author’s note: yeah this one just took on a life of it’s own I guess? Anyway, it’s lots of fun

“Can I use you tomorrow during the demonstration?”

Azriel looks up from his paperwork. The two of you were working in the library, a place you find yourselves most nights. You both enjoy working simultaneously - whether you both have paperwork, research, or personal reading. Most nights were spent on a secluded floor of the library. You two are down here so frequently, Clotho has stopped asking you to return the furniture the way it was, just allowing you two to use this space as your own sanctuary.

“I need a body to use when I’m showing the girls how to defend against an opponent,” you elaborate, and Azriel can’t help but notice a faint blush across your cheeks.

Azriel chuckles, but nods. He can’t say no to helping the priestesses, and he certainly can’t say no to you.

You two return to your previous attentions - you to your book, and him to his paperwork, which he finds much less interesting than you.

It started by the two of you using a table and chairs to work, but you had complained about reading for so long in the chair, that you rearranged the furniture so a table was pulled up to the couch you two are sitting on.

These nights started with you two across the table from each other, and tonight Azriel feels your toes pressing against his thigh, trying to form an entrance underneath his leg. You two now sit on the same couch, more often than not touching in some small capacity. The most recent nights start with you toeing your feet against his thigh, until he eventually grabs legs, sliding you down the couch, and placing your legs across his lap, draping his arms over them. When he’s feeling extra bold, or extra sleepy, he finds himself drawing patterns on your calves with his hands.

-

“Goooood morning!” You chirp to the priestesses, Nesta, Cassian, and Azriel. Azriel left the morning part of training early to bring you up for your demonstration and to talk to the preistesses and Nesta.

They all looked tired and out of breath, no doubt due to Cassian’s training.

“You can all sit for my demonstration. That way I become your favorite teacher.” You smile, eliciting a huff from Cassian.

“First, I want to say that while Cassian and Azriel are great teachers, there is one aspect to training that they cannot grasp. They do not understand what it’s like to be smaller than most of your enemies, to be at least 50 pounds lighter than most of your opponents.” You glance around, and the priestesses seem to be receptive, so you continue.

“Which is why I’m here. Cassian can spend 100 years teaching you proper balance, proper techniques, proper stances. But those things mean nothing if you cannot contextualize what you need to take down an opponent.”

“So today, we’ll be doing a little walkthrough of a fight. My opponent will be Azriel. The goal for today is for us to walk through, step by step, of a fight, and win. So, let’s start by thinking: what are some things that I need to think about when I’m facing Azriel. We don’t know anything about him, we don’t know who he is. We know what we can see, sans shadows. Most opponents won’t have control over shadows, so I’m sorry, but you’ll have to sit the demonstration out.”

With that, his shadows retreat, looking as if they too were looking to sit and watch the demonstration. Azriel doesn’t think about the fact that he didn’t tell them to leave, that they listened to you, not even seeking his approval for the command.

“So, what do I notice about my opponent?”

Gwyn speaks up, “he’s much taller than you.”

Another priestess speaks up, “he’s unarmed.”

“He has wings.” “He’s wearing protective leathers.”

You interrupt them. “All good observations. He’s bigger than I am, unarmed, but protected. These are all important notes when facing an opponent. So, what should I do first?”

Someone immediately yells, “kick him!” You’re pretty sure it was Cassian, but you let it slide. “Where am I aiming my kick?” You ask to the crowd. “His head!” You hear Nesta call back.

“Do we think that is the best course of action?” They all nod, you’re unsure if it’s just because they want to watch you kick their teacher, but you swing your leg out, aiming for his head, holding it right next to him when you ask, “why would this not be the best tactic for me?”

There’s a pause, then Emerie speaks up, “your foot won’t make contact with his head.”

While still holding your leg in the air, mere centimeters from his face, you pull a small chocolate from your pocket and throw it to Emerie. “Correct! I can’t make perfect contact, is there any other problem?”

Gwyn yells out, “you’re vulnerable to be pushed!” You throw another chocolate. “Excellent! Yes, since all my weight is on one leg, he could easily” you prompt, alerting Azriel to his next move. He simply pushes you a little, making you lose balance, “make me lose my footing.”

You stand back up and brush the dirt off.

“If I’m going to execute a move that leaves me vulnerable, I need to be very sure that I can execute it. My legs are not long enough to do so. And our opponents will not stoop down so I can attack them.”

Azriel crouches just a smidge, where if your leg were still in the air you’d be able to connect it to his face.

“When the odds are against you in a fight, you need to even the playing field. Do anything you can to subdue your enemy. A tactic I use frequently is messing with their senses. May I?” You ask Azriel. He nods, curious where this is going.

“My height might be considered a disadvantage, but it allows me to move faster and with more ease than larger opponents like Cassian.”

He rolls his eyes, ready to retort back, but you’ve started talking again. “Showing this in slow mo won’t give you a great idea, and it’s a bit more difficult to do, but here’s what I do. I use my opponents height to their disadvantage.

You plant your right foot on his left thigh. “What do small creatures do? They climb. So I plant one foot on a thigh, and use momentum to swing my other leg onto their shoulder.” As you say this, you swing your left leg over his right shoulder, him holding your right leg planted on his leg so you can move.

“from here, I have one leg secured to a shoulder, so I use that planting to bring up my other leg,” doing as you say, bringing your right leg onto his other shoulder, your legs holding onto his shoulders.

Azriel can’t breathe with you so close to him like this. Do you have any idea the effect this is having on him? How close you are to his face, to his mouth? He’s dreamed of having you like this, pressing you into a wall while he devours you like it’s his last meal.

Your voice brings him out of his thoughts, reminding him of where he is. “From here, I bring both of my fists out wide, gaining as much speed as I can before coming down on my opponent’s ears. This impact will leave their ears ringing, and could disrupt their balance if done hard enough.” You mime the motion, but only lightly hit his ears.

“Then I grab their face,” you say, holding the right side of his jaw, “and I smash my palm as hard as I can into their nose.”

Azriel knew you weren’t going to, but he could think of no better way to go than at your hands while your legs are wrapped around his neck.

You start to uncoil yourself from him, and it takes all of his self control to help you get your feet back on the ground. You start explaining why jabbing a palm through a nose is a good idea. The priestesses didn’t seem to think anything of you being on top of him like that, but out of the corner of his eye, he sees Cassian’s shit eating grin. He glances in his brother’s direction, wanting him to knock it off before he scares off their trainees, but Cassian mouths the words “loverboy” to him, while kissing the air, before pretending he was paying attention to you the whole time.

-

Your demonstration goes on for a bit longer, you and Azriel having a pseudofight that the priestesses eventually walk you through how to win. You have him pinned to the ground, and their cheers are so loud you’d think you had slain a dragon instead of taking him down.

You’re positively glowing at their praise, and the fact that this method of teaching actually worked. Before he could grow too accustomed to your weight on his chest, you get off of him, offering a hand to help him up, which he gladly accepts.

“Thank you for letting me beat you up today,” you giggle, as the priestesses start heading back toward the library, leaving you and Azriel behind.

He laughs, thinking about his next words, “how could anyone say no to letting you straddle their face and pinning them down?”

Your cheeks are on fire. The two of you were something, you just didn’t know what. On top of spending most days together, you two flirted constantly, once prompting Feyre to throw you in a cold fountain to cool you off.

But flirting was words, and these words were based in real actions you took. Sure it was to show the priestesses some defense moves, and maybe you had some ulterior motives, but you can’t pretend you didn’t enjoy seeing his face between your legs, even if you two were fully clothed in a self-defense seminar.

You were done with flirting that led nowhere, and before you can think about them the words are out of your mouth, “so if I asked you to do it again, with less witnesses and less clothing?”

You physically watch him shudder, at first you’re afraid you went too far, but then he leans down into your ear and whispers, “don’t make offers if you don’t want to follow through.”

You two have been dancing around whatever is between you two for too long, you think. The gentle nights spent in the library, the constant flirting. You spend more time with him than anyone. You’re terrified to move forward, but then you meet his eyes.

They’re full of lust, yes, but there’s an incredible warmth there. A softness, reserved just for you. He always looks at you with delicacy, as if you held his world and too harsh of a stare would break you.

You grab his neck, pulling him down to you as you kiss him. The first thing you feel is his wings wrapping around you, providing you privacy from the world, even though you’re alone in the training area.

Your hands clutch at his face, and your lips cover his, moving in tandem, as if your lips have found the place they belong.

His hands grab your ass, prompting you to jump and wrap your legs around his waist. You’re so caught up in the kiss and the heat of it that you don’t even realize he winnowed you two into his room.

You hardly take note of the room, just taking in his smell, his taste, his warmth. You’re not sure how long you guys are kissing, thinking of nothing but the way his hands feel holding you, amazed you two are still wearing any clothes, let alone being fully dressed, when you hear a cough.

You two break away very reluctantly, to see a very smug Cassian standing ten feet away.

“You,” he points directly to you, “owe me $50. Pay up.”

“Now?” You ask incredulously, your hair moving as you whip your head to glare at the intruder.

“Yes, now. It’s my money, and I earned it fair and square.”

Azriel’s confusion shown all over his face, you covered your face in your hands while Cassian says, “I bet her $50 that if she had you help with her demonstration and got on your shoulders like that, you wouldn’t be able to contain yourself.”

“I- um - I didn’t know how to make the first move,” you say meekly, “and he seemed so sure of this working.”

You were so concerned he’d be mad that you manipulated this situation, but Azriel, while still holding you, tells Cassian, “I’ll give you $100 if you leave and don’t let anyone disturb us for a week.”

Cassian, always ready to make a quick buck, quickly agrees and scuttles out of the room, closing the door on his way.

“How do you go from not knowing how to make the first move to doing that?” Azriel asks, amusement shining on his face.

“Well, I thought my shameless flirting wasn’t getting me anywhere, so I had to take more drastic measures.”

He roars in laughter, and you can feel the vibrations through his chest. “You’ve always had my attention,” he says, looking at you the way a predator would, “but now you have my undivided attention. And I just paid a hefty fee to get us some time away from everyone.”

He wiggles his eyebrows at you as you giggle, holding onto him tighter, “oh no, a whole week with no distractions, whatever shall we do?” You ask, trying to sound distressed, but your giggles give you away.

“I think I stopped paying attention during your presentation, do you want to remind me again about depriving your opponent of their senses with your legs?”

You throw your head back in laughter, and he tilts your head down to capture your laugh in his kiss.

[faith-forgxtten-land]

Hihihi!

I'm not sure if your requests are open, but the fic I just read was a request and was posted within the last 24 hrs, so I'm gonna take the chance that they are (can you tell I'm autistic yet?😂)

Could I request a slightly nsfw (just a lil spicy) Bay!Raph fic where the Fem! Reader is watching him workout and offhandedly mentions that she wishes she could lift as much as he does?

Her question prompts him to let her lay on the bench and "lift" the weights (obviously he's carrying almost all of the weight). Just a corny little piece that shows our Big Red some love.

Thank you for your time!💜

Spotting | Raphael

requests are open dw!! honestly feel free to send as many requests as you want at any time, if they're not open you'll know because i'll plaster it somewhere obvious. and corny pieces are the best kind <3

since its valentine's day, i kind of went extra corny with a vague valentine's plot... i hope you like it and lemme know what you think! it's only slightly spicy and suggestive because tbh i wasn't sure how far to go.

warnings: suggestive, slight choking? (oops) valentine's day mentions, single people try not cry too much. everyone is 18+!! never proofread

summary: it's valentine's day and for some reason you have nothing better to do than watch raphael lift weights

word count: 1195

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“Why are you lifting weights on Valentine’s Day?”

“Why are you watching me lift weights on Valentine’s Day?” Raphael retorts quickly and it’s such a good question that you pause.

Well, then. You sniff in mock indignance. “I’ll have you know that I was asked out by 12.5 different people ahead of today, thank you very much.”

You can’t see it, but you can tell he’s smirking. “12.5?”

“I figure Mikey only counts for 0.5 since I’m pretty sure he’d ask every woman he sees if he could.”

Raph snorts and your mouth pulls into a stupidly wide smile knowing you’ve amused him. He’s so relaxed like this, when it’s just the two of you, and your smile turns soft at the thought. There’s no one you’d rather spend the day with – Valentine’s Day or not – and the view isn’t bad either.

Speaking of... you tilt your head. Rivulets of sweat trickle down his green skin and you bite your lip watching the flexing of his muscles. He’s so much bigger than you, you’re pretty sure his bicep is bigger than your head, and he could cover your entire face with his palm – he’d done it just yesterday when you wouldn’t stop pestering him about a romcom you wanted to watch (it’s okay, you knew they were secretly his favourite kind of movie too, he didn’t have to protest so much – even grown turtles should be allowed to indulge in some Richard Gere and Julia Roberts). 

His size had intimidated you at first, had made you hesitant, but now it makes your knees weak and makes your heart accelerate with something entirely different to fear. It’s quiet apart from his breathing and the clang of his weights and you wonder if he can hear the thundering of your pulse.

“You’re staring.”

“Hmm?”

His muscles flex again and you’re quick to press your thighs together. You’re certain it's deliberate at this point. “You’re staring,” he repeats, his voice a little deeper.

You flush as you realise what he’s saying. “Not my fault you can bench press a truck,” you grumble to hide your embarrassment. “I’m jealous.”

The terrapin smirks again and sits up, his eyes bright. “C’mere.”

“Ex-squeeze me?”

It’s Raph’s turn to grumble. “You’ve been hanging around Mikey too much.”

You grin because it's true and walk slowly towards where he’s waiting. Your feet are clearly more sensible and less fuzzy than your brain (you are definitely not still thinking – and staring – at his arms, nope) because they stop just before you can stand between his legs. His eyes run along the curves of your calves and his gaze feels like a dizzying caress as it glides up your torso, lingering on the bare skin around your throat in a hungry way that makes you swallow just to watch him watch the movement. “What’s the plan, Red?” 

Your voice doesn’t feel like your own and you’re kind of impressed by how put-together you sound. It’s not the breathless wheeze you expected, it's low and sultry and suggestive and your eyes flutter as his breath hitches. The two of you have flirted before but this feels different. It’s intimate beyond your typical friendly banter and you have the urge to touch him.

He reaches for you first, pulling you closer and resting his hands on your hips. His hands are huge, and your mouth feels dry as he squeezes a little too hard to be innocent. “Raph...”

He squeezes again at your murmur. “Lie down.” His voice is rough and you shiver. He brushes his fingers across the goosebumps he’s raised, and you let him manoeuvre you with ease.

It probably looks so silly, and you fight the incredulous laughter that bubbles in your chest. The bar above you is ridiculously oversized and heavy and the thought of you lifting it is absurd and your laugh can’t be stopped this time as you look at the green-skinned ninja above you. His lips are twitching as you cackle and your eyes focus on the scar that decorates them, longing to soothe your tongue over it, as you regain your composure. “You good?”

“I’m good,” you reassure him. He’s so fucking cute, you think. You can see his nervousness now even if he tries to play it off and you feel like you’ve just swallowed a bucketful of butterflies. “Are you spotting?”

Raph runs his tongue – you do not shift your hips at how thick it is – across his upper lip, over that scar you want to taste for yourself. He looks torn for a moment, building himself up, and places his heavy hands on the bar above you. “Something like that,” he agrees before instructing you on how to position your hands.

You push up and immediately swear at the impossible weight. Raph snickers and you pout and glare simultaneously. “Don’t be mean.”

“You haven’t seen me be mean, baby.”

Oh. Your glare falters. That’s just not fair and he knows it. He’s grinning now and you curse him in your head. You push again and this time the bar lifts, as light as a feather. His hands are still wrapped around it and you’re not lifting a single thing, but the moment feels heavy. He hasn’t let his eyes drift from yours and you don’t dare look away. It feels intense and intimate and you can admit that your skin is on fire and your pulse is throbbing knowing how easily he’s carrying a weight that you couldn’t budge with all your might.

He guides the bar back down after a moment that could have been seconds or minutes or hours and you release a breath you didn’t realise you were holding. He’s still looking at you as you sit up and he invades your personal space. You have to tilt your head back to maintain eye-contact and you shudder as his palm cups your chin.

He’s so tall and imposing and you have to bite your tongue as his hand trails further down. You let him wrap his fingers around your neck and you rest your hand on top of his in encouragement, unable to stop a needy whine as he heeds your silent request and squeezes gently. His pupils are blown and he’s breathing harder than he had been while working out and you feel smug knowing you’ve caused this reaction. In a blink he’s pushed you back and he’s leaning over you. He smells like sweat and his skin is damp from exertion and it's kind of gross and it really shouldn’t be turning you on, but it is and your legs spread involuntarily.

You expect him to close the gap between your lips as he hovers above you and your eyes that had fluttered shut open again when it’s clear he has no intention of moulding your mouths together. He’s got a soft look in his eyes paired with a devilish smile and it makes your chest burn. You don’t expect the next words out of his mouth.

“Be my Valentine?”

You splutter and he laughs as he finally presses his lips to yours.

[alexthetrashyracoon]

CW// Smut (It’s probably real bad and sucks) Age Gap (Price is 40, Reader is 25-30) Cheating (Readers’s partner is an asshole and deserves it) MDNI 18+

Price who is hearing you having a fight with your partner about him barely having time for you and probably sleeping with his secretary which they doesn’t actually deny.

So when he hears your scream that they should never come back again, followed by the banging of a door, Price knows, it’s time to make a move, even if it was wrong.

The heart wants what the heart wants.

He knocks, three quick rasps against your front door and a second later, as if you were waiting for someone, probably that loser you call your partner, you rip the door almost out of its hinges. When you see him instead of someone else, you’re visibly disappointed.

“Brought wine and a shoulder to cry on, luv.” He grinned and held the bottle up. You chuckle and step aside. “Thanks, John.”

You sit down on your worn couch, you talk most of the time, Price listens. And he looks, he looks how your lips move with every word you say, how your nose crinkles when you get angry. Or how the disappointment in your eyes was bigger than ever since he met you.

“I could make you forget all about them, luv. Can make you think about nothing else but me for a while or forever, however you like.” Price said and squeezes your thigh.

You both know you shouldn’t go down that way, because Price knows, despite your partner being an asshole with an ego the size of Mars, you’re loyal. But also desperate to be treated like you deserved it.

It’s not long after that he has you riding his cock on the worn couch, Price had worked his way into your pants, gentle touches to your shoulder down to your chest over the swell of your belly and to the waistband of your pants. He has a hand in them the second you nod and give him permission to move on, hand slipping in and playing your most sensitive parts, rubbing, tugging, everything to make you a sensitive mess in his arms.

But Price isn’t a cruel lover, far from it, he makes sure you cum at least twice before he thinks about himself and his pleasure and removes his hard, straining cock from his pants and boxers, strokes it a few times before nudging its red, leaking cock against you winking entrance, Price makes you feel every inch of heated meat he pushes into you, your walls clenching around him, making it hard to move, while he sucks and licks around your pebbled nipples, playing with them until even the smallest hit of cold air makes your eyes turn inwards.

Price will definitely remember all the special spots that make you scream for more, for the next time you and him are together, he’s a simple man who loves to hear more of your sexy noises.

“Shit, so good, taking my cock so well…” He grunts into your ear while plunging into your hole, short cut nails digging into the fat of your thighs, pulling you down at the same time to make it even more delicious for the both of you.

He grins when he feels you clenching around his thick meaty dick a third time, another orgasm building, squeezing harder than before, making it almost impossible for him to keep control. You moan and whine, nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck, biting his skin as if to lay claim and Price can’t say he’s against it. “God, I’m close…” He says, squeezing your ass hard enough to bruise, not that you mind.

You cum before him. A choked up, broken moan spilling your lips before he crashes his against yours to swallow every single sound you make while pounding even faster into your hole and seconds later spilling himself inside you.

“Fuck…” You pant when the adrenaline starts to wear off.

“That we did indeed.” Price grins and squeezes your hips, bucking his hips to drive the point home with his softening cock still inside you.

He helps you clean yourself, a real gentleman this one, wiping away the sweat that gathered on your body, massaging your calves and thighs until you’re groaning again, but no (maybe a small amount) sexual tension between them right now.

“Thanks.” You smile, dressed in your oversized sweater, voice still a bit hoarse from your previous activities.

“What for, dear? Fucking you so well or for listening to you?” He asks while sipping his wine.

“Both I guess… I needed that. Think I picked my self-worth back up again thanks to you.” You sound much better now, voice still slightly wrecked but less sad about this loser you call a partner.

Ex-Partner, John thinks to himself.

“Mhm, glad I could help, sweets. Now, let me take you out on a real date, so I’ve got an excuse to fuck you again.” Price grins before catching your lips in another kiss, swallowing your giggles before glancing over to the open apartment door, hiding the grin in that kiss. Price was glad he made you forget about that dick of a partner and he was even gladder to make your partner see how well Price could treat you.

[hispanthicc]

First of all, a huge thank you! Your posts are always so refreshing! You titled two of your recent posts - where you pull the shirt up exposing your belly - with "Still need to be bigger" and "Need to be bigger". What do you mean by that? Do you want to get bigger all over your body (e.g. get a double chin, fat butt, big thighs and arms) or are you focusing on belly growth in the sense you want to maintain your current body size but exclusively have your belly get as big and fat as possible, and stick out as much as possible?

Awe well thank you for this message I truly appreciate it. To answer your question, I’m actually just really horrible at making captions so it’s really just some generic caption. Most people are too horny to put that much thought into it other than that. lol. I’m not really going for or hoping for a specific look cuz obviously gaining and how you gain is pretty much up to genetics. 🤷🏻‍♀️ of course getting bigger means different things for different people. For me I just like the act of eating and growing and how it makes me feel. I also like feeling bigger than people for example my ex has really big calves but compared to my calves his are much smaller. I’m not by any means a tall person but being bigger both ways was exciting for me in this pic below 👇🏼

I just wanna be bigger in all ways and whatever happens happens.

(This is not my ex btw this is a twitter friend I met irl 🥹)

[shini--chan]

I really like your ~Cantin~ story with the dark Canada. It's my favorite! Can you write please what will be next when the reader wrestle the phone from him and trying to call Alfred for help. Maybe with a little bit yandere Alfred too. Thanx and sry for bad English!

Of course, let’s see what will come of this. And darling, your English is better than you probably think ;D

Yandere Canada - Sanctimonious

Your body simply moved of its own accord. Maybe it was the hope that hadn’t died already, maybe it was pettiness and you just wanted to see Willams suffer; either way, you found yourself lunging at the phone in his hand. Although surprised, your false lover managed to side step your attack and the unstopped momentum sent you sprawling in the snow to the side of the snow. 

Spluttering, you spat out snow that you had nearly swallowed and shook your head to cast off the snow that had gotten caught in your hair and the outside of the scarf you were wearing. Sadly, some snow had slipped beneath your clothing - the uncomfortable cold was spreading across your neck and chest and your calves. However, you had bigger fish to fry - there was a phone you had to get your hands on. 

Quickly you scrambled to your feet and lunged again, this time managed to get your hands on his arm and then his wrist. Fruitlessly, he tried to keep the phone to his ear but finally saw that he wouldn't be able to simply ignore you for much longer. 

“A moment Al, gotta take care of something”, he quickly shouted in the speaker and then grasped your wrist. The phone was held high in the air and with him being taller than you there wasn’t really a chance of you grabbing it from him. 

So you did the next best thing that came to mind - kicked him in the kneecap. You didn’t care which knee you had damaged, or how much damage you had inflicted. The only thing that mattered was that the hand went down and you could pry the phone from his grip. Turning around, you set off into a light jog and put the phone to your ear. 

“Hello, hello! I need help, sir”, you hissed into the phone. 

“Jeez, who are you kid, and why do you have Mattie’s phone?”, came an enthusiastic voice from the other end. American, judging by the accent. Matthew had told you he had a brother but this couldn’t possibly be him. What sense did it make to have a blood brother that was of another nationality? Difficult parents could be a reason but it would be unlikely. 

“I was kidnapped by Matthew Williams and am being held against my will. He claims to love me, but it can’t be love since… since I’m just his captive and plaything that he uses as he pleases. Please, please sir, you have to help you”, you pleaded into the phone, tears welling up in your eyes. 

There were a few moments of silence on the other end and hopefully it was because he was thinking of how he could rescue you. To your horror and confusion, however, the pause was ended by laughter. 

“You must be the one that stole Mattie’s heart. Christ, I can see why he loves you - so polite and still feisty. I’m even tempted to steal you to have you all for myself, but don’t tell him that”, he remarked once he managed to calm down a bit. 

“What the blazes do you mean? You have to…”

“Not so quick kiddo. I don’t have to do anything and since you’ve stopped being so nice, I sure am hell not gonna do that now. Not that I intended to do anything really before, but that is besides the point

“The point here is, that while Mattie and I have some fundamental differences, at the root we are cut from the same cloth. So sweetie, I can’t say that I would have done anything different than my bro. We talk, y’know, so I’m completely in the know of what is going on between you two love birds. Hell, he even asks me for advice on how to handle you. 

“So let me give you a tip, for free ‘cuz it’s you: Just give in and it will be all smooth sailing. Don’t make it more difficult than it already is.”

[blazingstar29]

Top Gun Work Outs - Goose

Well well well, everyone’s favourite (dead) RIO. Sorry this took so long life got busy but Goose has been in my head since day 1. It’s pretty obvious that despite Anthony Edwards working out for the film he didn’t stack on the muscle like the others. BUT I’m here to talk meta and make inferences so reality doesn’t matter to me lmao.

Disclaimer: in this series i talk about characters body composition and the exercises they do. Particular in this instalment there’s a little bit of a focus on weight so if this is triggering please give it a miss :)

It’s fairly obvious Goose is pretty lean. In the photo above there’s next to know additional muscle in his arm. What’s interesting though is that he still has a broad back despite not having any muscle. That comes down just to the natural conformation of someone but also may be a sign of Anthony’s efforts of working out that he built his lats up a bit.

as his bicep flexes we see some muscular definition.

But the reality is Goose is quite lean. And we see that from multiple angles that he’s not lean and buff in the way Slider is, but almost more of a runner or cyclist build. (More likely cyclist because it’s low impact and I’ll explain more why.)

And you might be thinking, what are you going to talk about? Well steady on. Being buff is all well and good but I’m think in the the broader universe.

Anthony Edwards is tall. He’s 6’4 tall. Y’all ever wondered why those crusty little dogs live forever but Great Danes don’t? The bigger you are the more your body has to work. Wether it’s pumping blood or your joints, tall people wear out.

Goose probably knows this. He spends his days in jet planes going mach 2. That’s a lot of pressure of the body. And although Goose is pretty agile, as seen in his stellar leap into the air above (and consequentially getting his foot stuck in the net)

He has a young family with a son he wants to play catch with. He doesn’t want to add extra strain to his joints. Especially because orthopaedic surgery wasn’t what it is today. Even arthroscopes that were pioneered and popular (at least in australia) are now falling out of fashion because ‘cleaning up the joint’ actually added more problems.

So whilst Goose isn’t skinny and looks like he could be pushed over by a breath of wind, he isn’t carrying any extra mass than he has to.

And this is something I noticed with Slider too, but it felt more prevalent with Goose.

This photo is just for those who want him; I thought it’s be appreciated. Also slider basically one millimeter from lying in goose’s lap lmao.

Exercises:

Cycling! Low impact, good cardio. Mav follows him on his motorbike when Goose goes up hills and shouts encouragement but Goose just throws his water bottle at him.

Swimming. Again, low impact but he doesn’t swim as much as Ice, he’d have a bit more muscle if he did it multiple times a week.

Hiking. I see those calves mr edwards. And, fun family activity too!

So yeah, that’s what I make of goose!

[the-ace-with-spades]

WIP Wednesday for multiple hangster fics because I wrote a bit during my train rides this weekend but won't be able to write more for a while...

snippets for the hangster a/b/o mpreg fic, with arms wide open (idea overview here)

Bradley is—he’s tired. Constantly tired. His feet feel like they are filled with water, his calves look like they’re filled with water, he’s had a nosebleed and bleeding gums this morning, and whenever he closes his eyes, he keeps seeing spots for a couple seconds after opening them again.

He’s been trying not to complain too much, Mav and Ice would panic if he did, but it hasn't been the easiest few weeks for him. 

Something on his face must have shown as he grabs the two copies left on his desk because Nat just takes them off his hands as they enter the corridor outside the office, and gives him a pitying look. “They’re really giving you a hard time, huh?”

“It’s genetic,” he says dryly and Nat snorts.

She’s still smiling softly as she asks, “Do you want to talk to him?”

“Not really, no,” he admits. Even the idea of seeing Jake makes him nauseous. “I’ll have to, at some point, even just so we can get some things clear. I just, I’d prefer to do that after the fact.”

“You think he’ll just—wait, until then?”

“I—I don’t know,” he replies. He knows Jake — or he had thought he knows him — and he’s not one to be predictable. He likes to think that the Jake he knew, that Jake would try to make it right, even if it is too late for it now that Bradley knows how he truly feels.“He said he doesn’t want any of it so, not talking, it’d be easier for him. He’s just not—”

“—the type to do things the easy way?”

****

It's a different office and a different secretary, not like the ones Bradley remembers. The secretary is far younger than the one Ice had when he was a teenager, who had been older than Ice, and the office is far bigger and far more formal. He’s come here wearing his uniform, thinking it’d make it easier to move around base in it, and he’s so glad — he’d have looked so out of place if he just arrived in jeans and a shirt.

“Can you call him and tell him it’s his son?”

This is stretching it, he knows. Bradley’s been Ice’s nothing, on paper, Ice as the head alpha of Bradley’s pack, an archaic thing not considered for much in today’s world, being the only connecting part for them. He might have been his kid, years and years before, but now, Ice probably wouldn’t have much but nostalgic empathy and leftover possessiveness for Bradley.

“Son?” the secretary asks. “He doesn’t have a son.”

He feels like a fraud as he says, “Name’s Bradley,” but he doesn’t have much choice.

She looks at him for a minute and he relents from fidgeting from foot to foot. Finally, she picks up the phone handle and with one button, connects to the office behind her. The rooms are soundproofed so he can only hear her parts, not even a whisper coming from the office door.

“Sir, there’s an unscheduled visitor asking to meet you. Yes. I know, yes. He’s a lieutenant. I know, sir. Didn’t say.” She pauses, glancing at Bradley again, and he waits in silence. “He claims he’s your son, sir, your son Bradley. Yes, Lieutenant Bradshaw, sir.”

Bradley clears his throat and she suddenly straightens up, blinking idly at the phone, not a word leaving her mouth for a couple of minutes..

“Sir?” she speaks up, eyes glancing toward him, confused. “I understand.” She puts down the phone and tilts her head at Bradley, frowning. Then, slowly, she tells him, “Admiral Kazansky will see you now.”

He takes a minute to process, staring at the door to Ice's office long enough for the secretary to clear her throat.

He wants to throw up all over again.

snippet for slow down (you're doing fine) chapter 7

Jake had never wondered why Bradley liked to come to an empty bar to relax but he supposed nostalgia had something to do with it — either because of his dad or because of his godfather — military bars tended to look similar.

It was the center of the problem, Jake supposed, him either never wondering why Bradley did certain things or being too insistent for his, their own good that he needed to know why.

Jake sat down in front of him, on the other side of the booth, crossing his arms and leaning on the table. Bradley glanced up at him, raised an eyebrow, and went back to filling out paperwork. Like he hadn't given Jake back the ring Jake thought he had lost forever years ago a few nights ago. Like he hadn’t admitted he knew Jake wanted to marry him barely a few nights ago.

Like he didn’t break and mend Jake’s heart when he gave him that envelope.

“Did you really play Danny from Grease in high school?”

Bradley put the pen down and frowned.

“How do you—It was Mav, wasn’t it?” he realized, shaking his head and sighing. He was smiling softly, head slightly tilted like he wanted to avoid Jake’s gaze but couldn’t — he looked lovely, rosy cheeks, loose curls on his forehead and all. “Before you say anything, I’ll remind you that I know you like Dolly Parton.”

“I stand by that, she's a star,” he answered without shame, smiling back. “You never sing any of the songs from it. You know, You’re the One I Want or Summer Lovin’ and all that.”

“It’s Nights, Summer Nights," Bradley said and Jake grinned because he really did sound like a theater kid. "And most of them are duets, don't exactly translate well while done solo, even with a crowd.”

He turned his gaze down back to the table but he didn’t pick up the pen and Jake observed him when he said, “I sold the ring.”

A barely-there flinch of his eyebrows and licking his lips was all Jake could notice before Bradley said, “Good.”

the (sometimes I feel) like a monkey pilot chapter 8 snippet

"Have you done something like this before?"

"No," he admitted.

“You said—”

"I told you I flew in an F-14, not that I piloted it."

In fact, the closest to piloting an F-14 he came was playing the flight simulator — it was their main source of entertainment after his top surgery and when Ice was on house arrest when he had cancer. He read the nine hundred pages of NATOPS for the Tomcat only because they wanted to keep the game realistic as much as possible and for hours, Bradley had listened as Ice, and sometimes Uncle Slider, explained to him how it looked in reality. They had shown him the differences between the NATOPS and the sims because he missed flying, but he had never thought he would have to fly an F-14 and was doing his hardest now to remember those days.

The idea that Bradley could fly this museum piece solely on the knowledge he gathered from a former Tomcat pair, few short flights as the backseater when he was fourteen, and the days spent in a civilian-grade flight simulator was already far-fetched — but this wasn't going to reassure anyone, so his mouth stayed shut.

"And you want to—"

"You see any other choices here? If so, be my guest," he offered. “Last chance to swap the seats.”

"You're going to kill us," Jake remarked and honestly, Bradley preferred to die trying than just give up. He was raised better.

"What doesn't kill you makes you stronger, honey."

He resisted the urge to bang his head on the board in front of him and tried to remember what was next.

[storiesofsvu]

A Dangerous Game Ch 11

Emily Prentiss x reader warnings: language, alcohol consumption, smut, kinda semi public/very public smut, daddy!emily, two idiots in denial but slowly realizing it, minor talk of past hurt/angst/relationships. some more foreshadowing and parallels from previous chapters (v interested to see if y'all pick up on them...) sergio being a little shipper/instigator. House pictured is yn's, i have a real estate link i'll add later thanks to the constant glitching from earlier. Also the triple stars *** mean it’s the next week. The * means time passage same day. I AM PUTTING A READMORE IN, IF IT DOESN'T WORK AGAIN THAT IS NOT ON ME IT IS ON THE HELLSITE AND I AM SO SORRY.

It was incredibly easy to fall into a routine with Emily in the following weeks.

You’d leave work on Fridays, sometimes at the same time, but never together, always making sure to say goodnight to everyone as if you weren’t about to spend the night together. The first week Emily had left Sergio extra food, and since your place was closer to the BAU, you spent it there. The following you ended up back at Emily’s and the habit was made to make the trip to D.C every Friday.

Emily would claim it was because Sergio destroyed a couch cushion and puked on the entry way rug in retaliation of being left out of take out night but you knew it was because she liked her own bed better. You had to admit, you weren’t complaining about it at all, her bed was comfier, bigger too and she had a larger selection of toys. The unspoken argument was that because it was further in miles from Quantico, it felt it, you felt less like you were breaking the no fraternizing rule, when you were there you were still wrapped in the safety of your Vegas bubble.

***

You were fresh out of the shower, wrapping yourself in a fluffy towel, hair pulled up to keep it out of the way when your phone buzzed on the basin counter.

‘I dunno about you but after that fucking hell I am absolutely not cooking tonight.’

‘Are you still at work!?’

‘Last minute budget meeting.’ She inserted an eye roll emoji, ‘I’m just getting in the car now.’

‘Well you just take your pretty ass home, uncork a bottle of wine and relax, I’ll worry about dinner. What’re you feeling?’

‘You were in field training all day; I’m not making you cook.’

‘Never said anything about cooking. I drive right past Carmine’s on the way to your place.’

‘Sounds perfect. See you in forty?’

‘Maybe a teeny bit longer, I’m literally still dripping from the shower.’

‘Won’t be the only time you’re dripping tonight.’

‘Emily!’

*

Dinner was eaten on the couch that night, a little bit of extra relaxation for everyone, more physically for you and mentally for Emily. Leaning forward she picked up her wine glass from the coffee table, replacing it with the mainly eaten container of carbonara before she settled back against the couch, propping her feet up on the coffee table. You had your back resting against the arm of the couch, your legs extended across her lap, container of classic spaghetti and meatballs in your lap. You let out a small groan, shifting your legs and stretching out one of your calves before it cramped and Emily chuckled.

“Morgan put you through the ringer?”

“Honestly not as bad as I expected.” You laughed, letting out a happy hum as she began to gently massage the muscles.

“Probably helps you guys work out together.”

“Yeah. And my cardio is better than his, I can run circles around him.”

“I’ll make sure I don’t work you too hard tonight then.” She said with a grin and you scoffed, playfully rolling your eyes.

“How kind of you.”

You were distracted momentarily when Sergio leapt up onto the couch beside you, crawling into what open space your lap had and you greeted him with a gentle scratch behind the ears. He leant into it with a soft meow and your hand shifted to under his chin while you cooed at him for a moment. Emily watched with a soft smile, her hands still gently rubbing at your skin, not only could she get used to this, she already had and it was after only three weeks. Your gaze had drifted from Sergio back up to the television, your fingers absentmindedly picking at the leftover meatball on your plate, handing off little bites of it to Sergio who eagerly scarfed them down.

“Hey.” Emily pinched at your leg and you let out a squeak, your eyes shooting over to her, “you keep doing that and he’s gonna like you more than me.”

“Sorry.” You felt your cheeks heat, closing the lid to the takeout container and Sergio batted at your hand with his paw, “mom said no.” You muttered, booping his nose as you shifted on the couch and you directed back toward Emily, “and that is literally impossible. Emily Prentiss is number one in everyone’s book.”

“Oh please.” She laughed, easily handing off her wine glass to you to be topped up while you stood from the couch.

“First in mine.” You said with a shrug, not really realizing what you’d said, padding through the apartment. Wine glasses found home on the breakfast bar while you tossed the leftovers into the fridge, pausing to check something on your phone and Emily felt a warmth spreading through her, watching the way you tugged your lip into your mouth before pocketing your phone again. “You want the gelato now or should I leave it in the freezer?” You asked, breaking her from her trance.

“Oh, now for sure.”

“Kay.” You shot her a grin, refilling the wine, grabbing a couple of spoons and the gelato containers from the freezer before you made your way back over to the couch. “Glad you said that ‘cause I do believe I deserve a treat after today. Remind me to make Derek pick up the tab next time he insists on drinks.”

“You guys go out a lot?” She asked, scooping into her dessert.

“Every couple of weeks.” You shrugged, moaning over your food for a moment, “god this is good. But yeah, Savannah’s a gem, Derek seems to always forget that if I come out for drinks it’s two against one, but it’s all in fun.”

“You don’t feel like a third wheel?” She asked and you bit back a loud laugh.

“No.” The laugh remained on your cheeks and Emily couldn’t help but smile, “hell, a couple of weeks ago Derek was bragging about being hit on at the bar so we bet that either of us could get more phone numbers from girls than him.”

“And?” She raised a brow with a smirk.

“Derek got three, Savannah got eight girls, three dudes, and I ended up with six girls, the bartender and our server… and Savannah’s, but I don’t think that counts.” You let out a little laugh, “oh.. I don’t think I can stay too late tomorrow; we’re going for manicures.”

“That’s fine.” Emily smiled in response, softly squeezing at your leg, “I’ve got more than enough errands to catch up on.”

“You know if you’ve got shit to do we don’t actually have to do this every week.”

“Nah.” She smiled and you could tell there was a tease coming by the look on her face, “I like not having to pay for dinner once every two weeks.”

“Well at least you’re getting some kind of benefit out of this.” You shot back and she laughed, spoon digging back into her gelato.

Your gazes redirected back to the television, old sitcom reruns playing to keep you occupied through the silences. You were halfway through your dessert when the commercial break started, the first a movie trailer, the second for a fast food joint, the third a very over the top jewelry ad complete with obnoxious fake public proposals and crying.

“Gross.” You muttered over a bit of gelato and Emily chuckled softly, though she was mainly in agreeance with you, it was just a little too much for her style.

“Says the one who’s been engaged.” She teased, nearly wanting to take it back the moment your body tensed at her words. She watched the way you froze in your movements, spoon still in your mouth as your brow furrowed before you slipped it out, digging into your food for a second, lost in thought.

“When did I tell you that?”

“Couple of weeks ago.” She shrugged, squeezing at your leg softly, a wordless way of telling you that you didn’t need to talk about it if you didn’t want to. “Well, you mentioned something about nearly marrying a lawyer, I’m just taking liberties.”

“Well you’re right.” You admitted quietly, suddenly very distracted with picking out the cherries in your gelato. It wasn’t that you were avoiding talking to Emily about it, you didn’t mind, it was just that you could feel your chest tightening already with the thoughts of your past.

“Anyone else know?” She asked softly, her fingers tracing patterns on your bare legs.

“Nope.” You finally looked up at her, “wasn’t exactly my star shining moment… can’t say I’m proud of it.”

“What’d’you mean?”

“It was… one of those relationships that when you get out of, everyone around you is all ‘oh my god, it’s about time, she was so terrible to you, I’ve been waiting for you to break up for years, I’m not surprised’ kinda thing.”

“Meanwhile the entire time you’re together they’re telling you how cute you are?”

“Yeah.” You sighed, “Skylar was… something else. I mean she already had the unfair advantage of me in a new city where I didn’t know a lot of people and certainly no family. She proposed in the middle of one of her family dinners, I couldn’t exactly say no in the moment and it sparked a huge fight when we got home.”

“Did you want to marry her?”

“I loved her.” You replied with a huff, “I thought she was the love of my life. A couple of weeks later was when she got the job offer in LA, I coincidentally sat in on a couple of lectures about profiling while we were working a DV case and it kinda all clicked, started to realize just how manipulative she had been the entire relationship. How terrible she’d been treating me. I was blind to all of it, made me realize that if I couldn’t see the real motivations of someone I saw everyday, someone I thought I knew inside and out, then how was I supposed to be able to see through psychopathic serial killers?” You risked a glance up at Emily, the tightness in your chest relaxing when you found her attention on you, a soft encouraging look in her eyes, “It was part of why I decided to specialize in profiling when I moved to Florida after breaking up with her.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Thanks. But there’s no need for you to be, you’re not the one who fucked me up when it comes to understanding love.” You let out an ironic laugh, finally digging back into your gelato.

“You ever talk to her? I know how feelings can get stuck deep down inside you no matter how much you want to ignore them.”

“God no.” You scoffed, “the only thing I feel when talking or thinking about her is the urge to shoot things.”

“You wanna go to the range?” She offered and your head tilted in her direction.

“Isn’t a little late?”

“Oh c’mon, I’m a unit chief! I’ve gotta have some kind of pull.”

“Really?” You looked over to her with a wicked grin that made her smile for real.

“Yeah.”

“Well then fuck yes.”

“Okay but just one question.”

“Shoot?”

“You pawned the ring right? Didn’t give her the chance of getting it back?” She asked, raising a brow and the look on your face had her instantly wondering what happened as you bit back a laugh.

“I fed that piece of shit to a gator my first day in Florida.”

Emily howled out a laugh, swatting at your leg, the two of you both laughing so hard tears had started to blur into your eyes at the sheer thought. There truly was no better way to win a break up than the path you’d ended up on. By the time you were done at the range you were both feeling much more relaxed, any frustration or build up of emotion lifted from your shoulders as you returned to Emily’s apartment.

But just in case, Emily did still drag you into the bedroom to remind you just how special you were, worshipping every inch of your body, her lips and fingers not leaving any of your skin unexplored until you were completely exhausted, curling into her arms into a deep sleep.

***

Paperwork days were usually loved around the BAU, a little bit of a break, time to spend with friends and family rather than chasing serial killers around the country. This one would be, but it was involving a lot of wrap up from a tricky case out in Salt Lake and everyone was already tired from the week out of office. You’d been paired with JJ that week and the two of you had taken down the unsub together, but alone, so your reports were needing just that much more detail for the deputy director to be satisfied. Then JJ got the call that Henry had a school emergency and she had to take off for that, she apologised profusely and said she’d try to finish at home but you assured her to just email what she had to you and you’d finish up.

You’d done as said, reports sitting in your printer while you got distracted looking through case files. Part of you was always waiting for Dewald’s signature to pop up somewhere other than Florida, you knew he was still out there and were sure he wouldn’t be able to resist this long. The office had started to empty out, you, Derek and Spencer left in the bullpen while Emily worked away in her office, though her voice suddenly broke through the room, causing the three of you to nearly jump.

“Wilson are you done with those reports? I need them asap.”

Your head shot up in the direction of her office, worried that she was mad but you could tell by the look on her face that she, just like the rest of you, wanted to get out of there for the weekend.

“Yeah, sorry!” You scooped up the papers from the printer, quickly jogging up the stairs to her office it was nearly out of instinct you swung the door shut behind you, ready for a lecture for your superior. “Sorry, I should’ve filed them earlier, I just got sidetracked.”

“It’s fine.” She let out a small laugh, turning back to you, “I just wanted to make sure they were done. I’m only an asshole when someone above me is an asshole, promise.”

“Okay.” You laughed, sliding the papers onto her desk, watching the way she paused, her eyes dragging up your body and you nearly gulped, feeling yourself flutter around nothing. “Anything else?”

“You never wear skirts…” you glanced down at your outfit, she was right, you were normally ready for field days but had been running out of work clothes today, throwing on a pencil skirt suit and heels.  “And to be honest it’s kind of driving me insane.”

“Oh?” You raised a brow, a small grin taking over your cheeks as she stepped toward you.

“Yeah.” She murmured, her fingers cascading up your neck before pinching at your chin, “thinking about pushing it up, sitting you on my desk so I can get a taste before bending you over it, stretching you out over my cock.”

“Well it is Friday…” You murmured back, your lips nearly brushing against hers as you spoke “office desk? Kitchen island? Same difference to me, I have an imagination.”

“Good girl.” She praised, her lips ever so briefly meeting yours before you could both hear the sound of high heels outside her office door and stepped apart before Penelope knocked and darted through the door once Emily gave her the go ahead.

Once you were home that night Emily wasn’t about to forget your words, propping you up on the island while she ate you until your legs were absolutely shaking, pussy clenching around her fingers and you were practically crying for her cock. She wasn’t about to let you down, flipping you over and bending you over the counter, cock plunging into you as you moaned, fingers scrambling against her skin as you could never get enough. No matter how she fucked you, you were almost always left aching for more, her touch burning into your skin as you fell asleep curled in her limbs.

***

You let out a quiet groan, your eyes scrunching as you shifted in the bed, you didn’t want to wake up yet, especially as you felt Emily’s body next to you. Her breath was warm on the skin of your throat, her face nuzzled gently into your body as the two of you slept. You could feel her body raising and lowering as she breathed, still completely asleep and something inside of you softened, knowing she was that comfortable and safe with you by her side. You dared to crack open an eye, hoping you’d be able to keep a hold of the sleep afterwards and your lips broke out into a grin.

She was absolutely stunning, the sun peaking through her curtains, bouncing colours off her hair splayed against the pillows. She looked absolutely peaceful, like she was as relaxed as she possibly could be and that made your heart swell in an entirely different way. You couldn’t help but reach out, your fingers ever so lightly tracing over her skin, trailing around her lips, up her jaw before they ran down the bridge of her nose. No matter how much you didn’t want to move you shifted slightly, pressing a kiss to the tip of her nose and you nearly winced as you watched it scrunch up, her lips twitching up into a grin.

“You’re staring.” She mumbled, her arm wrapping tighter around you.

“Lies.” You murmured, your lips ghosting over hers and she chuckled softly, stealing a kiss without opening her eyes.

“I think you’re the one lying.” She yawned softly and it was your turn to let out a sleepy laugh.

“Maybe if you weren’t so cute when you’re sleeping I wouldn’t have to stare.”

“You ever wonder how I feel?” She murmured, pressing a kiss to your lips and you felt you chest swell, a giggle bursting from your lips before you nuzzled back into her and the two of you were back off into dreamland.

***

When Emily slipped the g-spot vibe into you after your morning session you thought it was to keep her cum buried inside your still dripping pussy, remind you who you belonged to while you went about your day.

You were proven very wrong when you got to the farmer’s market.

Up at a candle stand the tiniest gasp escaped your lips as the toy began a dull buzz inside you. A moment later and Emily’s hand was on your hip, her lips teasing your neck, her words hot on your skin,

“Think of it as a training exercise, gotta keep your poker face sharp. This should do the trick.”

“Yeah, right.” You muttered back, with how close to you she was you could feel the bulge in her pants, you knew exactly what her intentions were.

“Be a good girl for daddy.” She whispered into your ear, nipping at your earlobe before she pinched your hip and stepped away, pretending to look at something else in the stall.

It was a torturous hour and a half at the farmer’s market, every time you Emily picked up her phone you felt your skin prickle in anticipation. The vibrator would pick up speed, change to a more intense pattern before slipping back down. It only took the first three times before she noticed she had a tell, a smirk taking over her lips and she set it to a pre set edging pattern so it would change without her having to touch her phone. Though that didn’t stop her from picking up her phone to pretend she was about change things up, smirk practically plastered on her lips the entire afternoon.

By the time you got back to Emily’s apartment you were certain you were about to explode. The door swung shut, the bag in her hand dropped onto the kitchen island and she was on you. Her lips met yours in a fiery kiss, one that she was in complete control of as her hands made quick work of your clothes, pulling your panties down your legs as she did so.

“Daddy please….” You whined, collapsing against the wall behind you and she could see your thighs trembling.

“Oh princess…” her hand caressed at your cheek, “I never said you weren’t allowed to come. Poor thing. You must be incredibly pent up.” She stepped toward you, slotting her thigh between your legs and you let out a shriek as it nudged the toy deeper into you, the denim of her jeans brushing against your throbbing clit. “Go ahead, make a mess of daddy’s pants.”

Her hands clutched at your hips softly, rocking your body and you cried out as pleasure shot through you, your entire body trembling, gasps leaving your lips as your juices dribbled around the toy. Emily couldn’t help but smirk as you rode out your orgasm on her thigh, the damp spot on her jeans getting darker and bigger with each twitch of your body.

“Fuck.” You swore, a hand clenching at Emily’s shoulder like a life line and she chuckled darkly. Nudging you up off her thigh just enough to pull the toy out you let out a whimper as the rest of your juices drenched her leg.

In an instant she had you spun around, your forearms bracing against the wall. Her hands sunk down your body, pulling down the cups of your bra as she went, your nipples hardening in the cool air of the apartment. You knew she wasn’t done, especially with the tell tale sound of her belt clinking as she undid her pants.

“Just want one more from you angel.” She said, “want you to come around daddy’s cock, okay?”

“Yes!” You practically shrieked, her fingers toying with you already before she coated the dildo in the mess of your juices and her leftover cum from that morning and slid it into you with ease. “Oh fuck…”

It was almost embarrassing how quickly your pussy was fluttering around her cock, the tip of it nudging against you with each thrust of her hips. The sounds coming from your cunt were ones of absolute sin, sopping wet, each time Emily pulled her cock back it was covered in more of your cum, completely drenched.

“Oh god daddy!” The cry left your lips louder than you expected and Emily urged you on with a particularly rough thrust, her hand coming to spank at the curve of your ass.

“That’s it princess. Let everyone know just how good daddy fucks you.”

“S’close!” You whimpered, your eyes scrunched shut as your fingers clawed at the wall, wishing for some sense of balance while your legs began to shake. Fire prickled under your skin, pleasure building deep in your gut, a moan leaving your lips with each thrust of Emily’s cock. “oh god… god! Please!”

Emily’s free hand found your chest, pinching at your nipple, rolling it between her finger and thumb and you practically screamed, your pussy clenching down around her. Your body shook as you hit your peak, your legs began to give out and Emily’s arm wound around your waist, keeping you upright and pulling you to her. She kissed up your neck gently, stilling her thrusts while you whimpered, shivering every couple of seconds until you could finally open your eyes again.

“Jesus Christ.” You muttered and she laughed softly, kissing your shoulder as she pulled out, watching the mess drip down your thighs.

“How about we get you in the bath angel? I’ll start on dinner.” She suggested, nudging you in the direction of the bedroom once she was sure your legs weren’t complete jello any longer.

You were particularly blissed out post bath, wrapped in cozy hoodie and stolen pair of Emily’s sweatpants sat at the kitchen island. Sergio quickly took place on your lap, purring loudly as he curled up to wait for treats while you ate dinner. Emily had taken a few of the super fresh ingredients from the farmer’s market to make pasta pomodoro with chicken and goat cheese and to be honest it was one of the best dinners you’d had in a while. You’d offered to help with the clean up considering she’d cooked but she waved you off, insisting on you continuing to relax and refilled your wine instead.

You couldn’t help but watch her as she flit through the kitchen, placing leftovers in the fridge, a pan into the sink to soak before loading up the dishwasher. It was all very menial, almost boring daily tasks but there was something about being around while someone was doing them that made a warmth bloom through you in a completely different way than earlier. Sure, it had been another six weeks of your no strings situation, being in each other’s company on the weekends was a very regular occurrence and nothing new. And honestly? You wouldn’t change it for the world, being able to watch Emily in the comfort of her own home, underneath the shell of the FBI agent was something you adored.

“What?” Her voice broke through your thoughts, a small laugh evident on her lips and you laughed yourself.

“Nothing.”

“You that blissed out?” She teased, coming around the island to wrap an arm around your waist, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“Kinda.” You admitted with a little giggle, “guess I’m just used to days that are either all sex, or all casual. You took me on one hell of a rollercoaster today.”

“Sure did.” Smirking, she leant down, kissing you softly. “You let me know whenever you want to do it again.”

“Think I’m pretty wiped right now honestly.”

“Not tonight.” She laughed, kissing you quickly again before she swiped both your wine glasses off the island, nodding toward the couch, “but you’re welcome to stay over tonight too. I think I might just owe you some cuddles after how well you did today.”

***

Your house was split into three floors, the entry level being home to a small office, storage room and half bath, safe to say the least lived on floor. You were currently on the second level, home to the kitchen, dining space and living room, the tv on in the background for noise as you finally had the chance to curl up on the couch with a book. It was the middle of the week, the team had gotten back from San Antonio midday Saturday so you’d taken some time tonight to toss some laundry in and tidy up around the house. You heard a noise from downstairs, glancing toward the window, wondering if it was your neighbour getting home when you suddenly heard it again, this time you were certain it was knocking. Tossing back the blanket you scooped up your phone, it was nearing ten thirty and you had no notifications but there was definitely someone at your door. You meandered down the stairs, flicking on a few lights here and there before checking the peephole to find Emily on the stoop.

“Hey…” You greeted, pulling open the door.

“Hey.” She smiled meekly at you and your head tilted in confusion, “oh god… this is so much more awkward than I expected…”

“Well if you’re gonna be awkward can you be awkward inside? It’s freezing.”

“Sorry.” She nearly winced, quickly stepping over the threshold, toeing out of her shoes.

“C’mon.” You’d already flicked the lock behind her, nodding towards the stairs before you jogged back up them. “Wine?” You asked as you approached the kitchen island, turning back to her.

“You got anything stronger?” She asked with a sigh.

“You okay?” You asked, pulling down the bourbon from the top shelf, pouring some into a tumbler for her.

“It’s, ugh, God! This is so stupid.” She groaned, grabbing the glass to take a hefty swig before starting off on a mini rant, “I just, it’s been a hard week and I feel even dumber because it’s only Wednesday and it’s not even like the last case was a rough one. I’m just… tired… ya know?” She glanced in your direction and you nodded, “I don’t know where I am but it’s stuck somewhere between wanting to shoot someone and wanting to curl up into a ball feeling sorry for myself. Apparently I’m crap company too because Sergio wanted nothing to do with me, every time I tried to pick him he’d run off so if I’m bringing the mood down you’re free to kick me out. Oh, and you left a shirt at my place that he’s stolen so I don’t know if you’re ever getting that back”—

“Okay,” you interrupted with a giggle, hands grasping gently at her forearms, “now you’re rambling.”

“Sorry.” She mumbled, ducking her gaze, “I guess I just wanted some company, even if I’m garbage at it.”

“You’re not.” You assured her, your fingers curling under her chin so gain her gaze before you leant in, kissing her softly, “trust me.” You squeezed at her hand, “and you don’t need to feel stupid. Just because you’re this big bad ass FBI Unit Chief doesn’t mean you always have to be in control and know what you’re doing. We’re only human, you’re allowed to feel vulnerable.”

“Even if I hate it?” She asked, her nose scrunching in distaste and you laughed.

“Yeah. You’re even allowed to cry, but I’m honestly not sure if you have tear ducts.” She scoffed, but you saw the smile flash across her face and you knew it had worked. “Everyone needs a little bit of comforting sometimes, doesn’t matter how tough you are.”

“I think…. That’s what I want.”

“Then c’mon.” You squeezed at her hand again, guiding her over to the couch where she collapsed down beside you, letting you wrap an arm around her as you tossed the blanket over your laps, your fingers gently coming to comb through her hair.  

An episode or two later and you could feel her body while still stiff wasn’t as tense, her fingers were tickling at your skin and you found yourself climbing into her lap, lips meeting hers tenderly, tongues slowly exploring each other’s mouths. You broke the kiss, eyes dark as you looked down at her, tilting her chin up to you,

“Let me take care of you daddy…” you whispered, slowly sinking to your knees between her legs, “would you like that?”

You were practically pouting back up at her and Emily felt like she could explode at just the sight of it alone. Her hand reached out, caressing at your cheek gently and you leant into it before turning your head to press a kiss into her palm.

“Yeah angel.” She nodded.

“Just relax for me. You’ll feel better, promise.”

A moment later and she was kicking her pants off her legs and your face was buried between them, bringing her to the full point of relaxation that she hadn’t even realized she’d been needing.

____________________

@ssa-sapphic @mickey-gomez @clarawatson @cabotfan42 @momlifebehard @melindawarnersgf @itisdoctortoyousir @emilyprentiss4life @somethingimaginative17 @temilyrights @alexxavicry  @anya-casablanca @daddy-heather-dunbar @evilregal2002 @aliensaurusrex @rustyzebra @ilovemycrayons @mandy-asimp @thegrantwater @leftoverenvy @kades95 @dextur @m00nkn1ghts @augustvandyne @supercriminalbean @daffodil-heart @msvenablesbitch @its-soph-xx  @going-gray @just-a-torn-up-masterpiece @hopelesslyfallenninlove @peanutbutterprincess  @kdaghay @emilyprentisssluvr @lex13cm @awolfcsworld @zizzlekwum @emobabeyy @riveramorylunar @s1ut4nat @midnight-sapphic @scorpsik @thisisraes @prentiss-theorem @unsubologyy @strongsassysexysloane @svushots  @lavenderhoney94 @overtrred28

[misspearly1]

Day One: Size Difference - Joel Miller

Kinktober22 List

WC: 6.1k Warnings: 18+ Content. Minors DNI. Mutual Pining. Smut. Unprotected PIV sex. Size Difference kink & Praise kink. (This one's on me, I can't help but include some sexy southern praises from Joel lmao) Reader is a little shy. Joel makes reader feel small and petite, no matter her actual size - he's just bigger than her in every way. AN: I didn't plan for this to be so long, but words just kept spilling and here we are 6k later haha. Enjoy my loves, this is only the first of many and I hope this kinktober was worth the wait <3

-

You’ve never really considered yourself to be a small woman, sure there are people out there that are taller than you and there are people out there who are shorter than you as well, but you haven’t really put much thought about your height until you came across a man named Joel Miller. 

He, compared to you, feels like a giant. He isn’t a giant of course, but just standing beside him and having to bend your neck slightly to look up into his dreamy brown eyes says something. There are other people here in Jackson who are mighty tall too, Jesse or Eugene for example, but they don’t make you feel small like the way Joel Miller does. Oh no.

There’s something else different about him that makes you feel small, something intimidating… sexually intimidating. When you’re around Joel, you actually become aware of the size difference, all of the size differences actually. His hands are much larger than yours, his shoes are huge, arms beefed out with muscles that make yours look pathetic, calves, thighs and back are also beefed out with muscles over twenty years worth of keeping fit, but his chest is most impressive. 

You’ve caught a glimpse of Joel without a shirt once and that image was burned into your memory forever. He's hairy, enough that you’ve thought about running your fingers through, strong and wide chested which has caught you off guard multiple times now, especially in close quarter situations where you feel like you're being caged in by the man.

You’d give anything to hug him, to really hug him, like sit in his lap and let his arms wrap around you. Arguing with yourself that it’s just his rugged handsomeness and quiet exterior that you're drawn to, you’ve come to the conclusion after your most recent encounter with the man that it’s actually his size difference that's driving you crazy the most.

Your most recent encounter with Joel almost caused you to embarrass yourself and reveal your little crush on him, but thankfully due to his oblivious and carefree nature, he didn’t take notice and you were safe. It happened on a group patrol last week when Joel was showing you the ins and outs.

He was showing you how to properly approach seemingly empty buildings and search the place, then he showed you how to make use of your supplies and weapons judging on the size or quantity of infected. If there is just one, you take it out with a knife, if there are more, use fire effectively to kill multiple at once, and lastly, if it’s a bloater, use everything you’ve got or get out of there. 

Everything was going great and you were learning a lot, until things took a turn for the worst when you entered a small block of apartments. The group split up in pairs to search the building thoroughly and when there was a bloater in one of the apartments that Joel noticed before you did, he grabbed your arm before you could alert your position and pulled you back to the wall. 

The manoeuvre was just to prevent you from making a grave mistake, although the stance he took and held over you was throwing you completely off balance. Both of you were wearing masks to protect yourselves against the spores, the building was dark and dusty, but in that moment with both of Joel’s hands placed to the wall behind your head, his large and broad chest in your face, it couldn’t be any more clear for you that it was his size difference that turns you on. 

It turned you right there and then, especially when he placed his thumb and forefinger to your chin, tilting your head back to look up into his eyes so he could ask if you were okay. A faint breathy moan is what escaped your lips in reply. A subtle nod of your head answered his question before he looked away, thankfully right before your legs squeezed together. He didn’t notice then how aroused you were, and he isn’t around right now to see how aroused you are again just thinking about it. 

The man took you out of there quickly, then proceeded to take a few others from the group who had more experience back into the block of apartments to kill the bloater. You heard the commotion from outside, hoped and prayed that everything went smoothly and when they all emerged unharmed, you asked Joel for extra help. You wanted to be at their level of fighting skills, to be one of the people that he can call on should a situation like this ever arise again. 

However, today is the day you planned to meet up with him and undergo some one-on-one lessons, and although you're nervous as hell to be around him since last week's incident, you need to learn how to fight as well as he and others in Jackson do. You’re a part of this community now, have been for the last year, and it’s time now to learn everything that you should have long ago. 

Before you found Jackson, you were in another group that did things very differently, which ultimately caused their demise in the end. They taught you to always take the stealthy approach, sneak around the infected and slip by unnoticed, which you did exceptionally well, however it was because of this fighting technique that resulted in the surrounding area of their camp becoming more and more crowded with infected until they eventually closed in. 

And before you found that camp, your mother and father had always protected you. They still try to even now, but their age is catching up with them and it’s just another reason for you to make a change. A few weeks after they called it quits with patrols - or in other words, they retired - you joined up to the group patrols, thus bringing you here now as you make your way over to Joel’s house. 

Thankfully, it's the beginning of summer so it’s not too cold or too hot just yet, though in a few weeks you know it’s going to be sweltering and your choice of clothing today is purely practical; shorts and a vest - perfect for the task ahead and weather all around.

While you may have accidentally put on a pair of clothes that are one size small, they actually fit rather well, but are tight in specific areas - areas that you want Joel to notice. You wouldn’t normally opt for this type of clothing if you were going beyond the walls, but since Joel detailed that your first lesson will be held in his backyard, you figured it wouldn’t cause much of a problem to wear more of a skin revealing outfit.

Besides, you’ve passed at least three or four people wearing shorts and vests just like yourself on your way to his house. You know it won’t be a problem, you’re just getting inside of your own head because you’re hoping it will grab his attention and that's what's causing you to overthink.

Reaching his home after a leisurely stroll, you stop at the base of his porch steps and take a minute to calm down your anxiousness. He’s just a guy that you have a crush on, how problematic can it be to learn an important thing or two from him about fighting off infected?

I’m fussing over nothing. You conclude with your inner voice then climb the stairs with some newfound confidence. Knocking on his door three times, you wait a few moments before hearing him calling for you to just come inside. “Hey, it’s just me.” You call out, even though you know he is expecting you, it’s just to be well mannered and all. 

When he yells back, reporting that he’s in the backyard, you make your way through the laundry room and out the back door, bracing for his look of disgust that never came. Joel wasn’t even looking at you or your outfit, he was too busy assorting three long planks of wood on the table top, stacking them up on top of each other. On the grass below lay a whole mess of wood shavings and wood blocks. “Hi.” You greet him again, this time with a small wave. 

“Morning. You’re a little early, Y/N. Let me finish up here, then we’ll get started.” He speaks with an authoritative tone, which makes you yearn to hear him say other, more sexual things, in an authoritative tone of voice. Snapping out of your drooling, you remember your manners and move towards him, offering your help. “Is there anything I can do… With whatever this is that you’re doing?” 

“It’s just wood.” Joel chuckles softly before finally standing up straight to look at you. He brings a hand up to block the sun from his eyes and you fight the urge to smile when seeing his eyes dart down your body for a split second, no disgust, but he does quickly avert his gaze and asks. “I was gonna to sand down the blocks. You actually wanna help with that?”

“Sure.” You shrug, nodding. “Doesn’t look too complicated.” 

“Alright then.” Joel chuckles again, which sounded more of a scoff this time, as if he couldn't believe that you actually wanted to help. Turning away from you, he heads into his garden shed to retrieve something then comes back out holding two large duffle bags filled with tools. After rifling through one of them, he hands you a pair of gloves then a sandpaper holder. “Soften the surfaces with this and take your time with it too, I don’t want any splinters.” 

“Okay.” You chirp with optimism and ignore his belittling attitude before starting with the closest block of wood. It was a large cut, probably a weight you would struggle to lift whereas Joel would have no problem with it, and seeing as though it was just laying on the grass, you just knelt down instead of attempting to pick it up.

After putting your gloves on, you start sanding down each surface carefully while noticing the way Joel kept looking over to you in the corner of your eyes. You hoped that he was stealing glances of those areas of your body that were accentuated with your tight clothes, but he was actually just checking that you were doing your task properly.

It sucks that he doesn't seem interested, but at least now you know for sure and you can move on from your silly little crush. Which means you can stop making an effort to look good in front of him too. Kneeling to the floor properly now without a care of how you look, you rest your weight on your heels and focus on the block of wood, tilting it over to sand each new ragged face until it is smooth.

You’ve heard about Joel and his workshop, about how he crafted a couple handmade guitars for some of the residents and it makes you wonder if he’s using these blocks for something else. You fail to see how he can make a guitar out of a square block, it’s too chunky and definitely not long enough, but maybe he could make one of those other guitars, the littles ones. 

“Hey, what are those little guitars called again, I forgot?” You ask after trying to remember the name of them, but to no avail. When there was no answer from Joel, you thought that maybe he didn’t remember either. "Oh, Ukulele. That's it." You tut to yourself upon remembering the name, though there was still no answer from Joel.

Turning to look at him, curious as to what has him so occupied that he can't answer you, it becomes quite clear when you witness him quickly look away with a sigh, acting like the planks of wood were hard work for him to move around. They weren't, he wasn't even moving them - Joel was staring at your ass.

So, he did take notice of the clothes after all. You say to yourself silently, wondering how you could make use of your outfit to get more reactions out of him. Leaning forward very subtly, you play it off like you needed a better angle to sand the wood block and the sound of him clearing his throat was victorious. It was more of a choked grunt catching in his throat, which gave you the confidence to push some more with your teasing tactics. 

Spreading your legs apart just a little, acting as if your thighs were sore from sitting in the position, you arch your back too and it worked beautifully as Joel drops his hand to readjust himself. Thankfully the strands of hair that had fallen in front of your eyes kept him from noticing that you could see him clearly easing the ache in his crotch.

You wanted to laugh so bad. It was amusing knowing he is struggling, but you kept on with your poker face and wore an expression of focus while you work. A few moments later though, you stop to straighten your back and wipe the sweat from your brow with the back of your hand.

“Phew!” You huff, fanning your vest shirt to circulate the air around your flushed skin. It’s hot today, and although you’re mostly working up a sweat from the consistent back and forth action of sanding wood, you’re also working up a sweat because of Joel as he, too, was feeling the heat.

Moisture was gathering on his forehead and there was a thin damp trail lining the back of his shirt, the sight sexy to look at each time he turned his back to you. All you wanted right there and then is see his top half naked again, the memory of it in your mind isn’t enough, thus causing you to sigh with need.

“You know, if yer need a drink all yer gotta do is just ask.” Joel offers, his tone coming across a tad frustrated. Gee, I wonder why? Laughing on the inside, you look over to him, still fanning your vest - which you noticed him drop his eyes to look at - then replied. “Okay then. I’d like a drink please, Joel.” 

With a curt nod in reply, he removes his gloves and sets them down on the table top before heading inside the house. You hear the tap running and glasses clinking, but there was a long pause after the tap was turned off and when the man came back outside, your first immediate thought when seeing him was, ‘oh shit, he knows’. 

Joel came back outside, shirtless, holding a glass of water in each hand and instead of just handing one over to you like any normal, sane person would, he decided to kneel down to the grass beside you first, maintaining your eye contact, then handed it over.

Taking the glass from him with wide eyes, you know for a fact that he is doing this purposely to get back at you simply because of the way the corners of his lips twitch. He was fighting back the urge to smile and laugh. You probably look like a deer in the headlights to him and he thinks it’s funny.

You can’t even say that you’re angry about it either because you wanted to see him shirtless again and goddammit does he look good right now. Especially when he takes a drink of water, the droplets rolling down his sharp chin then down his tanned, muscled neck ever so slowly like he was advertising some beer commercial. 

Watching his adams apple bob with each gulp he took and licking your lips with your dirty thoughts, you now fight an urge to let your eyes drop to where you want to look most. His chest and stomach were so close to you, so large and tempting to reach out and touch, but you can’t do that. It would be wrong and certainly overstepping his boundaries. 

Instead, you look away and take a drink of water, to coat your dry mouth after staring at him for so long, however his proximity to you was still so close and you could still see him the corner of your eyes. The hairs in between his pecs, or the little trail of hairs over his belly button, leading into his jeans, the strong muscular veins in his hands and forearms. It didn’t matter that you looked away because you could still see everything. 

“I need to use your bathroom.” Standing from the floor upon feeling lightheaded and dizzy, Joel stood up from the floor too and it just made everything worse. He’s so fucking tall, your head is level with his brawny man boobs, and you would even go as far as saying they’re bigger than yours, though his are purely made of strength, whereas yours is made up of fleshy tissue. “Where do I go?” You ask, diverting your attention back to the original task which is to step away for a moment and catch your breath, otherwise he’ll be picking you up off the floor very soon.

“Go inside, out the laundry room then it’s the door to your left.” Nodding to him, you manage to whisper a small thankyou before your legs quickly carry you inside his house. You’re a mess, a soaking wet mess and you can feel it dampening your underwear. All that confidence you had just a few moments ago vanished and you need to get yourself together. 

Finding the bathroom and taking a whole minute to cool off, your cheeks were blushing red and your chest was on fire, still worked up over his actions just now. After finishing off your glass of water, you filled it up again in his sink and exited the room while gulping back the substance to drown your nerves.

Why does he make me feel so nervous? And why the hell do I love it?! You argue with yourself internally, completely bypassing the man sitting on the stairs as you walk past - until he speaks. “What’s the matter, darlin’?” He asks seductively, causing you to choke with surprise.

Turning quickly, you puff out a heavy breath of air from the shock of his voice and lean against the banister, lifting your arm to wipe away the water that had escaped your lips. “Jesus, you startled me.” You scoff, to which Joel responds by lifting his hand to rub your chin, wiping away the water you had missed.

Gasping from the action, he now allows himself to fully smirk and drags his thumb across your bottom lip, crooking one brow. “You sound so pretty when you choke.” I’m dreaming, right? This isn’t real, I passed out in the bathroom and this is a dream...

Panicking with your inside voice, your heart was practically leaping out of your chest with his thumb gently pulling your bottom lip down, as if he were opening your mouth. If you felt sexually intimidated by him before, then he has just cranked it up a few notches and blown off the Richter scale. You felt a flood of arousal rush straight to your core - again! Which was causing your thighs to squeeze together - which he most certainly noticed this time, and laughed at. He actually just laughed at you.

“Don’t yer think I’ve noticed what you’ve been doin’?” Dropping his arm now and tilting his head to the side, mockingly, he narrows his eyes. “Wearing those clothes? Moaning to me and squeezing your legs together just now and last week? Or staring at me for long periods of time, hm? Didn’t think I caught on to that, did you babydoll?” He bites his lip, then smirks once more. 

“Oh God.” You whisper under your breath, gulping back air as your mouth becomes dry yet again. Joel definitely knows, and not just about you deciding to wear these clothes today, but he knows about your crush… about everything.

“No, I’m far from God-” He chuckles whilst shaking his head. “Just call me by my name, unless you’d prefer to moan it, darlin’.” 

“Took y-you long enough t-to notice.” You stutter, finally breaking your silence by backchatting. You found just enough confidence to reply to Joel after feeling so taken aback by his tone and attitude with you. It’s sexy as hell and you want more of it, but you also want to be bold and sexy for him too.

“Yeah, well I had to make sure first, didn’t I?” He retaliates, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth as he shakes his head at you, as if he was annoyed but his smile said otherwise.

Joel likes your attempt at back chatting, though you felt embarrassed for stuttering, just seeing him so amused gave you some courage, and besides, he has just said that he had to make sure - meaning he has known about your crush for a while and was making sure his suspicions are correct before making a move, therefore… He must like me too.

Coming to a realization with that thought, your silence certainly wasn’t helping and you quickly replied. “And to make sure of what exactly?” Shrugging your shoulders, you feign innocence to the man like you have absolutely no idea what he’s talking about, hoping he would express his thoughts into words. “Enlighten me, Joel.” 

“I wanted to make sure that the things I was noticing about you were correct.” He clarifies, then pauses for a second to find the right words upon seeing your disappointment. You wanted more from him, to really hear him get dirty with that mouth of his, and he knows it too.

Joel can visually see what you want without a need for words, the man is good at surveying people and he’s had some time surveying you. Lifting his hand, he beckons you closer with a finger, which you do for him without protest, and your heart still beats fast, panties drenched once again and chest still burning a blaze, but right now, you would do anything he asks of you.

Standing in front of him, just between his legs, the position he was sitting in put his face level with yours and his big dreamy eyes darkened as he whispers. “I wanted to make sure that you really wanted me and it wasn’t just a harmless little crush. That’s why it took me so damn long, darlin’ because..." He pauses, eyes roaming the expanse of your face with a genuine smile on his lips. "Because everything will change between me and you, and I want to be certain that it's what you want."

Nodding, you couldn’t find the words to reply even if you wanted to. You’re so close to him, so close to bringing your dreams into a reality. You’ve pleasured yourself thinking about this, thinking about being caged in by his big strong arms, your cheek resting on his chest as he fucks you until stars appear behind your eyes. You can physically feel the pulse in your nether regions, that’s how desperate you are to let Joel take you right here, right now, but he needs to hear you express your thoughts into words too.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. We’ll work on that confidence of yours.” He leans in closer, bringing a thumb up to your bottom lip again. “Now, I did my part y/n, so you gotta do yours and tell me what I need to hear before we go any further - what is it that you want from me?” He asks simply, a clear and simple question; leaving the door open for you to let yourself in - it’s an invitation. 

The control is in your hands right here, right now. You could lie to him and say he has got it all wrong, that you’re not interested, but then you would be lying to yourself too. Joel is giving you a choice because you know just by looking in his eyes that he isn’t going to let you go until he’s satisfied with his pleasurable treatment for you. And you want it, you absolutely want his pleasurable treatment. 

“I want you.” Is what you say in a breathy moan. Eyes feeling heavy and love drunk, you inhale shakily when feeling his thumb push past your lips. “I need you, Joel.” You clarify, giving him more confirmation, more control. Your eyes close now when feeling the pad of his thumb on your tongue, sealing your lips around him with a suckling bite, he hums deeply with a contented sigh, pleased with your responses. 

“Oh, that's a good girl, y/n.” Joel growls a praise, his voice heavy with desire and need. “That’s exactly what I needed to hear, but now you gotta open those eyes for me.”

Doing as he says, you open your eyes and moan at the dark wanton expression on his face. It’s feral, wild. “Atta girl.” Joel praises you again, and it never occurred to you how much you needed to hear him say it before. No one else could hold the power he does in a simple praise.

Suddenly, his thumb on your tongue pushes down, a directional signal for you to kneel and you do. Carefully falling to your knees, your hands land on his thighs to hold yourself steady, to keep you tethered to reality with what’s about to come. Joel removes his thumb and leans back to unbuckle his belt, which is where you now become fully aware of his exceptionally large bulge showing through the fabric of his jeans.

You’ve wondered about his size on many occasions now, wondered if he is large in length or girth, or both, and you’re about to find out. Looking up into his eyes, the man grunts a heavy groan at your expression. “Fuck! You look so pretty on your knees for me, darlin’.”

Working faster to release his cock from the confines of his clothes, lifting his hip up off the step to pull down his jeans and boxers, you watch in awe as his sizable cock springs free and slaps against his stomach. It's big, much bigger than you expected.

“Don’t worry, it’s gonna fit sweetheart.” Joel chuckles after seeing your eyes widen. The tip of his cock reaches his belly button, but the length isn’t what made your eyes widen, it's the girth of him. You know just by looking at his dick that you’d struggle to wrap your fingers around him, and just thinking about him entering you makes you wince. “Hey.” He calls for you, pulling your attention back to his eyes with reassurance. “We have all night, doll and we'll both take our time, okay?”

"Okay." Gulping, you nod to him and push past your initial fear. Of course Joel would be big here too, he’s big everywhere else, and it was silly of you to think he would have an average or below average sized cock. There’s nothing average about him. Not even his balls, which look like they would fit nicely in the palm of your hand. 

After seeing his thighs tense with need, your own curiosity and desire was growing too impatient and you reached out to cup his sac. “Oh fuck.” He gasps from the contact. Leaning back and spreading his legs apart, you take advantage of the room he was giving you and move between his thighs, already feeling surrounded by him. 

You squeeze his thigh with your other hand while placing an experimental kitten lick along the prominent vein on the underside of his cock. He twitches, balls pulling up in your hand with the sexiest sounds escaping his lips. His moans were praising your actions, therefore giving you a boost of confidence.

“Joel.” You whisper his name, to which he lifts his head and looks down his body, directly into your eyes. “Gotta keep those eyes open for me.” You smirk, using his own words against now before leaning in and sealing your lips around the tip of his cock.

"Oh, you're a naughty woman." The man grunts through his struggles to keep his eyes open, but no matter how stubborn as he is, he keeps them open for you, watching and living in the moment of you sucking the tip of him softly with skill. Joel knew under all of that shyness there was a impressive, sexy and experienced woman.

After wondering how much you can take, you bury him inside your mouth until it becomes too much, which is more than halfway. And although you felt proud to take that much inside, you wanted to impress him and take more, to be able to bury your nose into the hairs on his mound and sound so pretty for him choking on his cock. You heard Joel loud and clear earlier, he enjoyed hearing you choke on your water and you know now that he was picturing you choking on his length instead. 

“I may need your help.” You blurt when releasing him. Removing your hand from his thigh, you wrap it around the base of him and rotate your wrist. “You’re too big for my mouth Joel, it won’t fit.” You tease with a smile, growing more and more confident with each passing second before opening your mouth once more and taking him inside again. 

“Oh, it will.” He growls, digging his feet into the floor for leverage. “I’ll help you make it fit, doll - trust me."

Moaning when he places his hand to the back of your head, you didn’t know what you liked most, the feeling of his large cock inside of your mouth, hitting the back of your throat, or the fact that his hand is about the size of your head and takes very little for him to hold. The man doesn’t even need to use your hair when pushing you down, burying himself a little deeper and groaning at the sound of you gagging around him, he could keep you in this position if he wanted to, make you choke for air as his cock takes up every inch of space in your throat, yet he didn’t. 

Instead, Joel found a comfortable rhythm that benefits you both for his sake of pleasure and your ability to breathe, though whether it be guilt or desire that you aren’t receiving anything, he carefully sat up and slipped his hand down your vest top, holding your soft plump breast in his hand. You went with the latter as that quickly became too little for Joel and he yanked the straps of your vest and bra down, revealing one side of your chest completely for him to caress in the way he really wanted to. 

“Hm, sensitive aren’t they?” He mocks as you moan around him, feeling him pinch your nipples. Rolling the bud around, he removes his hand for a second and you watch as he licks the tip of his fingers before returning to circle your bud with his spit. You can physically feel your nipples begin to harden, growing more and more sensitive to every little touch he gives.

Multitasking must be one of Joel’s strong suits as he continues to push your head down on his cock while fondling your breast in a way that uses pleasure to distract the discomfort in your jaw, however just as you begin to feel his balls pull up in your hand and clearly hear him moaning from above, nearing his peak, he abruptly pushes you back with a ragged inhale. “No, not yet, darlin’...your turn.” 

Leaning down and planting his lips on yours in a fervent, heated kiss, Joel pulls down your vest shirt all the way, along with your bra. You then gasp when he hooks his fingers inside your shorts to pull them down, though he left your panties on.

“Joel.” You manage to moan out his name when he wraps his arms around your lower back. It made you feel small and you loved it - loved how the sheer size of him made you feel smaller than what you actually are.

Holding onto his shoulders when he leans back, pulling you with him, the man had no issue whatsoever with wrapping your legs around his waist to stand up and walk up the stairs with you held in his arms. Still feeling small, you also felt as light as a feather until Joel had to stop a couple times just to focus on kissing your lips. 

You initially thought it was because you were heavy in his arms, but that simply wasn’t the case. He just couldn’t focus on walking while your tongue tangled with his, causing him to push you up against the wall and grunt into your mouth. You were the one making him dizzy now. You were causing him to lose focus and become wild with need. 

The man couldn’t wait any longer once he reached the top of the stairs and entered the nearest room to sit you down on a bench. The cool surface sends waves of unexpected pleasure through your body, but when he yanks your hips towards him and rolls his hips into you, it damn near sends you over the edge. “Fuck!” You whine, feeling the desperation radiating from him.

Breaking the kiss, he looks down your body and swipes a finger up your panties, completely slick with your desire. “You know…” He chuckles softly while toying with your underwear, teasing you. “It was hard not to take you last week in that apartment building. When you moaned?” Shaking his head at you, he bites his lip and circles your clit through the fabric. “I was certain then that you wanted me, but the moment wasn’t safe, darlin’, otherwise I would have fucked you against the wall right there and then.” 

“Well, we’re safe now.” You whisper. Mouth falling open with a gasp when he slips his fingers inside your panties and teases your entrance.

“We are indeed, babydoll.” Nodding, Joel whispers in agreement that the moment is right. It is safe now, there’s no infected around, no doubts lingering in his mind and there’s nothing stopping him anymore. 

“What are you waiting for then?” You ask, feeling the pad of his finger dragging up and down your slit, but not actually touching the areas you want most. His actions worked beautifully in making you yearn for more - he was making you desperate and needy.

“Nothing. Just enjoying the way your pussy reacts to my touch.” Joel smiles, a sweet sinister smile as he continues to not give you what you want. You know he’s doing that to draw a reaction out of you, to make you plead for him, and you do plead because you are too desperate. 

“Please, Joel.” You whimper, then jolt against him when he circles your clit. By now, you had soaked his hand, you could feel him rubbing his fingers together and just loving the way you’re gushing for him. You quiver and pulse around nothing, the muscles beginning to form an ache that needs to be caressed. Only on a handful of occasions have you managed to cause yourself a painful ache in your cunt by waiting too long to satiate your sexual needs, but Joel is doing that right now and knows he’s doing it - he knows your cunt is physically aching to be filled.

“Please, what?” He smirks while pressing his forehead to yours and pulling your panties to one side. Joel notches the tip of himself at your entrances and you instantly clench again, the action making him grow impatient now as he asks again. “Please what, Y/N? C’mon doll, tell me what I need to hear, then I’ll give it to yer.” 

“I want you inside of me, Joel.” You speak honestly, not caring how shameful and pathetic you sound. “I want you to fuck me right here, make me feel good and cry your name. Please, Joel, just stop teasing me and give it to me.” You sob and gasp, gripping at his forearms as he takes his sweet time by breaching your entrance. 

“Nnugh!” Joel whimpers, his teeth gritting from the tightness of your canal. Eyes closing to relish every passing second of him pushing inside, the first thrust is always the most enjoyable and the man just simply wanted to drag it out as long as possible. He’s slow, beautifully fucking slow with his actions, making you feel every vein, ridge and inch until he finally bottoms out with his balls literally pressed against your ass. 

“God dammit.” Grunting from the constriction around him, he lowers his forehead to your shoulder and breathes through the powerfully pleasurable sensation. “So much better than I dreamed, darlin’. You’re so warm.” His broken voice croaks into your neck.

“Joel, please - move.” You beg after a few moments adjusting to his size. It felt a little uncomfortable at first, he is bigger than your previous partners, but now that you relax around him, the pleasure rises with insatiable need. You feel so full, completely full in the most beautiful way. Joel hooks his arms under your legs then lifts you off the counter with ease, just emphasising even more how strong he is.

Using the globes of your ass for leverage, he begins lifting you up, leaving only the tip of him inside before sinking you back down again, still keeping to a beautifully slow pace. You tilt your head and rest your cheek to his shoulder, breathing broken moans into his neck while taking every grinding thrust he gives. You couldn’t move even if you wanted to, the size of him was pleasing and breath-taking, exhausting. 

“Fuck. Keep squeezing me, babydoll.” Joel babbles, then buries his face into your neck again, this time planting kisses to your skin. Only after he had marked up your neck with a satisfying amount of love bites, he then kissed your lips, swallowing all your mewling whimpers.

Opening your eyes upon feeling him toss his head back with a grunting moan of your name, you look over his shoulder and catch a glimpse of yourself in a full body mirror by the door and the sight pushes you over the edge. Joel made you look petite, holding you in his mighty strong arms, while fucking you senseless.

His size difference is what drove you to orgasm.

-

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[saucyjothoughts]

hi there, i love this blog! We've all seen yesterdays' shower pictures, so I'm probably not the first: shower sex with Nace please 🙏

Let's pretend those shower pictures really were posted yesterday and I haven't completely lost control of my life.

(nsfw under the cut)

You haven't been together long. Things are still new and tentative, you're still learning about each other (intellectually and physically) and this is the first time you've shared a hotel room. It sure beats racing to tidy your apartment before he comes over so he doesn't think you're a slob or having to deal with his weird housemates when you stay over at his place.

You were a little late checking in and now you don't have much time to get ready. The perfect excuse to hop in the shower with him to save time, right?

When he stands again, suddenly taller than you, his erection presses against your tummy. You let it. The soft skin of your belly is slippery and he moves his hips just enough to let the tip of his cock drag up and down your skin, the texture of the contact changing slightly as he leaks precome onto you. You were supposed to be here to get clean. You're going to be late.

In the hotel bathroom, the steamy air fills your lungs with scents of almond milk and lavender from the complimentary goodies. He's already done his hair by the time you step in and realise that the water pressure is hugely better than you're used to, the hot water like a massage against your skin. But while you're trying to do your hair under the water, he's starting to get cold and muscles in close next to you, close enough to push your silky-soft bodies together. He waits so patiently until you're done with your hair to offer his assistance for the rest of your body.

A smooth, creamy soap in his hands, he works the lather over you, starting from your shoulders, your collar bones, and down over your breasts. He spends a long time there and you notice a blush on his cheeks that isn't due to the heat of the water. He was hoping you wouldn't notice his semi, but how can you not when you're this close? You offer him an arm at a time to scrub and he's getting into your underarms and all the way down between your fingers. He asks you to turn around and does the back of your neck, down your spine, his steady hands sinking into your muscles as he works, and down to your butt. His breath behind your ear is suddenly gone and you realise he's getting down on his knees to scrub your thighs, your calves. You turn around again and he's fully hard now, on his knees in the shower for you, washing your feet. There's a cheeky smile on his face, his wet hair slicked back and his inked skin looking good in the water.

But now your kind, fun, handsome boyfriend kissing you and you want him and his hand is pushing between your thighs and between your lips and inside you and he's still thrusting his red, swollen cock against your skin desperate for some relief. How can you deny him when he looks like this?

You turn to face the wall and bend forward a little in this cramped space, resting your forearms on the cold tiles and waiting for him to take you. His hands on you, you lift a knee to give him access, a dangerous move in this slippery place but he supports, steadying your hips and you feel his cock against your butt, between your cheeks, lower, against you lips, and finally inside you. Just the tip, but it makes you gasp all the same.

"You okay?" He manages, intoxicated on this moment but not enough that he can't still pause to ensure your pleasure. It's one of the things you love really like about him. With your nod, he pushes hard, slow, bigger than any of your partners before and infinitely more satisfying. The pair of you find a rhythm under the hot stream of the shower, washing away your sweat and providing a backing track to your breathy moans.

"Can I come in you?" He groans behind your ear, your tight heat so good against his hungry cock. You spit your 'yes's enthusiastically but he doesn't speed up just yet. He's waiting. One strong, tattooed arm finds its way around your body and down your belly to between your legs. It's an awkward angle but he finds your clit and pleasures you with little circles, your knees growing weak and forcing you to rest your head against the shower tiles to resist collapsing completely. The feeling is heavenly, sending ripples of relaxation and affection all through your body while he's still deep inside you, pushing strong and slow.

He notes your moans raising in pitch, your body tensing as you're about to come. And all at once he's supporting your entire weight as you lose control, your pussy clenching around him, your moans filling the steamy air, and now he's ready for his own orgasm - pounding into you hard, not letting you come down from your high, the slapping of skin against skin echoing around the wetroom. He comes hard inside you, impossibly wet, his mouth loud against your ear and his hands unable to decide where to squeeze.

You're late for your event.

Neither of you care.

[quinloki]

Birthday Request Event

"It's my birthday and I'll write what I want to \o/"

Gift Details ♥ Reader: afab!reader Character: Smoker Kink: #8 Breeding Kink Prompt: #8 "Stay still." Gift Giver: @smokersbaby

Summary: Smoker wants you still, as he moves you all over the apartment in his need.

Content Notes: oral sex, vaginal sex, praising, size-based-pet names, hairy chested Smoker, short but strong ♥

This birthday party is 18+, consensual unless explicitly stated otherwise, and BYOB

Smoker’s mouth is buried between your thighs as you’re pressed against the wall. Your legs are over his shoulders and your fingers are in his hair as his tongue dives deeper inside you. Large hands flex against your ass, holding you in place even more than the wall was – you were certain he could pin you place wherever he wished all on his own if he wanted.

At nearly seven feet in height, and a little more than half-that in width, Smoker was big. Add to that a mass of muscles and a gruff exterior, he was certainly intimidating.

A little less so with his mouth buried in your needy cunt, but you weren’t complaining.

The pleasure was building in your core, you could feel yourself dripping as he sloppily devoured you. You shuddered, legs curling as the pleasure pooled and you felt him squeeze your ass, growling into your thighs.

“Stay still.” He grumbles for probably the fifth or so time. “I’ll drop you.” He threatens, tongue lapping at your clit before it pushes into your core again.

You giggle, the laugh turning into a delicious moan before you manage to stammer out a few shaky words. “You wouldn’t drop me.” You huff, catching a glint in his brown eyes as you smoothed his hair back. “I could writhe like something untamable and you’d never-ACK!”

Your words break into a yelp as you slide down the wall, coming to a stop as your hips meet his, and your legs are hooked by his arms. You’re still wedged against the wall, but now you’re pinned against his body, not his mouth. You can’t help but notice the clear slick on his chest, or the thick erection already grinding into your slit.

“Bold talk,” he says, looking down at you. “For someone so tamable.” He insists, pushing his thick shaft into your soaking pussy.

Your hands are clutching onto his arms as the breath catches in your chest from the slow intrusion. He pushes all the way in, and the stretch is sweet as your body aches to take him. Your thighs and calves tense as he disappears into you completely. The sensation alone is almost enough to bring you to the edge and you gasp a little when he pulls back.

The first few thrusts push you up the wall a little until your fingers are barely able to reach his shoulders. He’s bigger than you, and by how much escapes your thoughts, because right now he seems impossibly large. Twice your size at least, even though you know that’s not the case. But when he’s filled you up beyond what seems possible, when he’s pressed you against the wall, when there’s nothing in your vision but his wide barreled chest, he seems larger than life.

“Look at me.” He commands. “You’re close, and I want you to look at me when you cum.”

“Sm-Smoker,” you whine, just looking into his eyes is enough to cause the rush to surge, and your fingers are trembling against the white hairs on his chest. “Pleeeease…”

“Just keep looking at me, just like that… good job.” He praises you as the pleasure tenses your body, flooding your eyes even as you struggle to keep looking at him. Heat flushes through your body as the orgasm melts into you, and he braces your back with one hand.

Still buried in you, he moves the two of you away from the wall and sets your butt on the arm rest of the couch. Crouching down he guides you back, laying your shoulders onto the seat of the couch as he resumes a steady pace. He guides your legs around his waist, one hand steadying your hips, the other steadying him as he loomed over you, using the back of the couch to keep himself in place as his pace picks up.

You can just barely reach his chest, fingers dancing over his skin as his breath falls over you, punctuated by soft, velvet words.

“You’re so good,” he assures you. “Taking me so sweetly. I’ll fill you up well, little one, don’t worry.” He promises as his rhythm becomes a little erratic. He snaps his hips into yours roughly, grunting as you squirm under him, feeling the hot flood inside you.

He leans down, pushing into you as he pins your hips against the armrest, rolling his hips and causing you to gasp just before he’s able to steal a kiss. Hot and wet, his lips devour you as his hips grind into yours. When he leans back, he’s pulling you with him until he’s sitting on his heels, hands on your hips, your arms draped over the arm rest as your body is arched and on display for him.

The heat and passion meant only for you, licks along your breasts, leaving pleasure that lasts longer than any accidental mark he might make. His thumb rolls against your clit as he moves you against his recovered cock, ready to begin the next round.

“You’re not nearly full enough.” His voice rumbles against your skin. “And I haven’t yet had my fill.” He admits, tongue and teeth against your neck as shivering, mewling, needy and delightful sounds slip from your lips.

Check out the event - requests are accepted until 7/31/2023 EST

[stormy-writer]

Spider-Sona, Goliath Spider - Guerilla

I made a spider sona! I haven't watched the movie yet, but I just needed to make one. I drew it, but the sketch is sloppy so I won't show it yet. Without further ado, my spider sona.

Trigger Warning! - Contains descriptions of gore and death, is a bit sad, contains curse words

A dark figure in a dimly lit hall. A few lights flicker brighter than the others, creating an eerie scene. The figure takes a step, their heavy work boots thudding against the metal grate floor. Stepping under one of the brighter lights, their silhouette becomes more visible.

She's a female, her body curving and jutting in all the right places. A thick fiber clings to her figure, almost matte. It's a dark gray- not quite black, but almost. On her arms and legs, thick spines poke out of her body suit. Even thicker spines rest on the back her head, creating a hair-like shape.

Where her eyes would be is a set of thin goggles, made out of what looks like weaved webs. Her steps echo throughout the hall, and she steps under another brighter light. Just then, the light catches a shape on her forehead. A glossy spider emblem glimers for a moment, only visible when it reflects just the right way.

She's massive, wide shoulders and tall body making her an intimidating force. Her arms are long, going down to her calves. She fiddles with her hands and slides on fingerless gloves of the same material of the suit. They seem to be sewed on to the wrist of the suit, able to be taken off her hands for a better grip. Her muscles bulge, and the body suit hugs them tightly.

Her heavy black work boots clunk against the floor. They look sleek and simple, but still sharp. Under her arm is a large barrel, like a keg. She makes it to the end of the hall and pushes open the door. The other spider-variants greet her with a smile as she sets down the barrel, and her booming voice announces her arrival.

“Hey! I brought the refreshments! Let's get this welcome party started!”

Although she was warned that this was, in fact, not a party, everywhere she went turned into one, so the few people that warned her just rolled their eyes and grabbed a cup.

Wait, did I forget to mention? That strange, big lady?

That's me. Hi, I'm Jess, or as most people call me…

Gorilla.

I was bitten by a radioactive Goliath Birdeater when I was on an intern trip to a rainforest in South America, one affected by horrible chemical testing. I had been interning at the Daily Tuba, but I was interning for a manual labor job. They brought me along in case they needed heavy lifting done when we came across a mutated Goliath Birdeater.

It was massive, much bigger than they were normally supposed to get- even though they already got up to two feet long. This thing was easily seven feet long, three feet tall. Then it started rubbing its spine-quill things together, making a horribly loud hissing noise. Everyone ran, but my best friend, Will, tripped and fell. The beast had almost gotten to him when I jumped in between the two, my back facing the spider. I picked Will up and practically threw him to the others.

But just as I was about to run, it sank it's fangs into my shoulder blades. Normally, Goliath spider venom would be nothing to humans. This thing was not normal. I felt it start to rip me apart, my arms getting slowly severed from my body. And then I felt tingly where I had been hurt. The feeling spread across my whole body, and I passed out. When I had awoken, I was on transport back to the US.

I flickered in and out of consciousness, hearing fragments of conversations. Some being freaked out bystanders, some were doctors that were taking care of me. I finally fully woke in a hospital bed, feeling like hell. It wasn't a normal hospital bed, or a normal room. I had been strapped to the massive bed. Well, it looked normal to me. Everything else looked so small.

It turns out that it's venom had changed me, turning me into a whole new person. I was 7’6, 275 pounds. Where my arms had been torn had mended naturally, but they were different too. They were longer, beefier. They reached my calves, and they were covered in those same thick spines it had. Same with my legs. They were thicker and muscly-er. But they stayed proportionate to my body, unlike my arms.

I didn't have to look to feel it, but the back of my head had changed from hair to even thicker spines. My hair on top was still normal, and it was thick enough to cover the spines. But I could feel them. Every light seemed so bright, but it was night outside. I remembered that Goliath spiders were nocturnal.

A nurse walked in, and immediately ran back out when she saw I was awake. A few minutes later, a scientist dude came in and explained everything. Including why I was strapped to the bed. Apparently, while I was drifting in and out, I was incredibly aggressive. Another trait of the Goliath Birdeater. They unstrapped me and sent me back home, having done enough tests on me when I was asleep. When I got back to my job, everyone was scared of me. Even Will.

I had to quit, and I mostly stayed inside my house. That's when I found out my powers. Using them, I made a body suit and decided to help the world. I mean, what use is powers if you don't use them for good? But then I started going down a… dark path. I knew I could do anything I wanted, no matter how sadistic it was. It started affecting me.

Then, one night, some drunk jackass was being just annoying, and I gave into the urge. It was a lethal urge. But my sister, my best friend since birth, the one who had always been there for me, stepped between us. She caught my blow, and in a swift move, she was nothing but a memory. It broke me. I had killed my own sister. I changed after that. She was always pushing me to be better, be happier. So I did the same for others. I became a beacon of hope. Light. I was always happy, even if it was only on the outside.

Gosh, I miss her. But that's in the past. Now, I'm part of the spider-verse.

Powers

Super Strength

Amazing strength, strong enough to pick up a full office building.

Size Mutation

Mutated into being 7’6, and naturally 275. Arms are much longer than they proportionally should be, hands reaching the calves.

Web Spitter

Takes the webs/web fluid in belly pooch and spits it out of mouth. Webs can be used to weave or craft, like a thin stringy clay. Dries/solidifies like plaster, but can also dry to be more malleable.

Spine Shooter

The spines on the body can be shot out and aimed with deadly accuracy, and are filled with a paralyzing agent. Effect is only temporary.

Looks Mutation

Has a natural belly pooch that holds webs and web fluid. Bottom half of hair has been turned to thick spines. Eyes are more sensitive to light.

Hiss

Spines can rub together to create a deafening hissing noise.

Tendencies

Naturally aggressive, nocturnal, possessive, only loves one mate/person for their entire life. (Yandere tendencies)

Info

Name

Jessica Siller Luerman (Ler-min)

Hero Name

Guerilla (based on appearance and fighting style)

Nicknames

Jess

Jessi (sister only)

Gore (GOR-illa, backstory is gory)

Gremlin (Hobie)

Pronouns

She/her

A/problem (Miguel)

Gremlin/bitch (Hobie, friend)

Age

19

Hair

Big curls

Dark brown

Reflects red in the sun

A little past shoulder length

Eyes

Silvery blue

Patterns in them look like the bottom of a pool or the ocean

Tiny flecks of gold

Face

Round but masculine jaw

Big eyes

Small button nose

Apple cheeks

Scary-until-I-smile look

Skin

Pale

Soft

Freckles everywhere

Scars on hands and shoulders (where arms were torn)

Body

Chubby

Curvy

Muscular

Big

Wears a size 13 in mens

Personality

Sweet

Boisterous

Loud

Fun

Caring

“Mom friend”

Also a party animal

Hides pain

Hides vulnerability

Helps everyone

Flirts as a joke

Jokingly insults close friends

Loves feeling like a teddy bear (i.e. hugs, cuddles, getting leaned on)

Likes being relied on

Pushes herself too hard

Family

Mother (deceased)

Father (left when Mother was pregnant)

Brother (left)

Sister 1 (deceased)

Sister 2, Kaylee (best friend, deceased)

Likes

Everything

I dunno

Being loud

Fucks w Shadow from Sonic

“I identify as a threat. My pronouns are try/me.”

“I hate when people ask me what sign I am. I am a sign from God. Start running.”

Miguel (but who doesn't?)

Hobie (as a friend)

Peter (as a friend)

Parties

Music

Being random

Effeminate men

Scrawny men

Dislikes

Gross texture

Bullies

Rapists

The government

Doctors

Unseasoned/bland food

The British (minus Hobie)

Spiders (ironically)

Pedophiles

People who do crime for fun

The government

People or things that are exempt from the law and abuse it

The government

The need for money

The "pay to live" system

Transphobes

Homophobes

Raisins

Ugh, raisins

Karens

Like seriously, fucking hate raisins

Spoiled brats

Teenagers

Old people (80-100)

Loud noises (but likes to make them??)

Alcohol

Drugs

Fuck drugs

Bugs

Icky

Ew

Bugs

Uhm, what was I doing?

Oh yeah

Forgetting things

Damn this list is long

Disliking things

Hate

Being useless

Okay I think that's it

Oh wait

Being alone

Discrimination

So sorry if this is horrible, I'm typing this up at 2 am after no sleep the previous night.

[delopsia]

Del my lovely, I got you some lovely little snapdragons from the garden. I know they're your favorite and as an added bonus they're all fire colors too. The vase is Rhett and I'm afraid I must once again send them via message in a bottle (lol).

Rhett's seen alot of really hard animal births on the ranch and so hasn't Royal, but none were as tough as a little dairy calf who was born in early spring. She was really, really tiny, horribly underweight even because of her mother's condition (Cecelia had managed to get her from an owner who couldn't take care of her anymore) and couldn't nurse either.

You and Rhett made a little spot for her near the woodstove and did everything in your power to make sure she survived. You guys would all be up at all hours of the night feeding her and making sure she was ok. Sure enough, she gained both weight and strength because she had the best caretakers in the world.

It's not long either before she's going out to play with the other calves in the pasture and you, Rhett and Royal occasionally stand by the fence watching her to make sure none of the bigger ones go after her. She's fully nursing from her mother too (Royal will let the calves nurse for however long they need to because it makes less work for them) which is an excellent sign, but you and Rhett can't help but joke about how she bucks and kicks with her spindly little legs and you've nicknamed her "Bambi" as a result. Sure enough the name sticks and you and Rhett have a lifelong familiar in her.

Del my lovely, if I could give you all the snapdragons in the garden I would. You've been too good to me and to all the others out there. 🥰🥰🥰🥰

oh my god, I'm so sorry for taking forever to answer this 😭 I put it on hold to finish one of my wip's first, and that took so much longer than I anticipated it would.

Everyone had a feeling that when Cecelia came home with that lone dairy cow in the back of the trailer, this was probably gonna end in tragedy. Due to give birth at any time and so underweight that Royal didn't trust she would survive the walk to the south pasture, it was a wonder that she even made it on and off of the trailer. Hell, Rhett was so certain that it wouldn't end well that he avoided telling you about her arrival entirely. It was just one of the harsh realities of working on a cattle ranch.

Rhett always gets unusually quiet when he's trying to hide things. So you knew something was up when one day, his work days started getting summed up as a short "was fine" rather than his usual detailed recounts of the day's events. But you could have never expected him to walk through the door one night with a little brown and white calf in his arms. Not particularly unusual for him. Your current record is three calves in the kitchen, but this one is an entirely different breed from what the Abbotts keep.

She's such a funny little thing. She can hardly stand on her own feet, and yet, every time you go to give her a scratch, she's kicking her little legs and trying to kick you! Silence in the house is something of a rarity because she's a hell of a talker. Fussing because her meal was a half second late or even just for the hell of it.

It's a hell of a sight to look out into the pasture, full of cattle bred for meat, with two little dairy cows mixed in amongst them. But aside from her appearance, Bambi blends into the herd just fine, always loosely following her mother and only parting ways to fuss when she sees someone walking past. These other bottle-raised calves may have forgotten the luxury of treats, but she has not. She's spoiled and she demands a tax every opportunity she gets.

Never really grew out of the whole yelling thing, either...💐