lip expansion

KURO WEEK - DAY 8 (FREE DAY): Magic.


“Lance - what exactly are you doing?”, Kuro whined, feeling the freshly closed wounds on his arm and back strain with the movement. The Blue Paladin decidedly kept his usually chatty mouth shut. Instead of answering– or even recognizing– Kuro’s defiant tugging, he gently closed his grip around Kuro’s flesh wrist a little tighter and pulled him along.


Only minutes ago they had been at the Castle’s med-bay, tending to his scratches and cuts. Their latest mission had been rough. Although it was supposed to be a simple in and out rescue mission, it had gone awfully wrong. As in, Kuro was happy he’d walked away with his flesh arm and legs still intact and attached to his body. Thankfully, the rest of the group had had more luck.

In hindsight, they should’ve known better. They should’ve been prepared for the whole mission to go sideways with how heavily guarded the planet they’d freed had been. But saving planets and whole star systems from the ones that once had created him was their job now. It was Kuro’s job now. And nothing, not even the most hopeless situation, would keep them from doing just that. Saving lives.

This whole concept, the mere thought of him being one of the good guys, still had the Galra hybrid feeling adrift and somewhat out of place. He hadn’t been created for this. For killing - yes. For fighting, shedding blood and tearing whole fleets apart - definitely. But doing so for a good cause? A higher goal? On behalf of the whole damn universe? Nope. Just- no. Kuro would’ve laughed his ass off at that prospect.


But times change you, a small voice in the back of his head provided.

Averting his gaze from the back of Lance’s head and focusing on their somewhat awkwardly joined hands instead (he was still new to the whole human interaction and physical contact thing, okay?), Kuro couldn’t hide the small smile creeping onto his face.

Not times, he countered. People. People change you.


It took one more turn around a corner for Kuro to know where they were heading. Lance had asked him to close his eyes. What for, Lance  wouldn’t tell. Not even when Kuro stated how he knew they were going to Lance’s room. The Cuban boy wouldn’t have any of it; simply shushed him with a finger to the clone’s dry lips. There had been a gleam in those dark blue eyes. A gleam he couldn’t quite pin down, but made him want to lick that delicate digit pressed to his lips.


“Just do it already!”, Lance huffed and playfully put one hand over Kuro’s yellow eyes, before he opened the door to his quarters. “Or you’ll ruin the surprise.”

Had he been smiling before, he was downright smirking now.

“Lance, I swear to all deities out there, if the surprise is you taking off your clothes right in front of me, I-”

His teasing died right on Kuro’s tongue and came out as a sputtered, choked sound when he felt two warm hands grab for the hem of his own shirt and pull it upwards.

What the-

“Don’t open your eyes”, came Lance’s voice - a bit shaky, but determined nonetheless. “Just-… Take that off, will you? But please be careful with those scratches on your back.”

It took Kuro a second.

Then another two or three.

His mind had gone completely blank, out of order, Kuro.exe had stopped working. His hands however - oh he’d have to have a talk with them in the near future about not acting on their own, pulling his shirt off within a heartbeat, just because a certain Paladin told them to.


Cool air hit his bare skin - thanks for that you little traitors!, he glowered at his hands for a moment, before screwing his eyes shut again, waiting for Lance’s next move. Heartbeat thundering in his ears and filling the silence that hung over them for a few moments before the smaller man carefully took his clawed bionic hand in his own flesh ones and led him to the bed.

Even with his eyes shut, Kuro could still smell it; the way countless sleepovers made his and Lance’s scents mingle and cling to the sheets and pillows, creating a whole new fragrance that filled him with a warmth he hadn’t felt before.

It smelled like home.

Home…

Something fuzzy, tingling unfurled in his chest at that.


“Okay, now sit down, please?”, he could hear the rustling of blankets being pulled back. Without giving a second thought to it, Kuro simply purred an affirmative sound and carefully sat down as not to disturb the straining and prickling wounds on his back any further.

When he’d finally arranged himself properly on the soft mattress, the hybrid heaved a sigh.

“And… what now?”, he asked, proud that the anticipation that caused his guts to twitch didn’t seep into his voice.

Around him Lance rummaged through the room, providing him with the softest wool blanket they possessed and finally turning off the main lights.

There was a soft pad of bare feet on the cold metal floor, followed by the now familiar feeling of a slender body’s weight sinking into the mattress behind him.


Lance shifted closer behind him, close enough that Kuro could feel his breath hit the skin between his shoulderblades. Warm hands crept up his sides until they rested on his ribs. Tender. Careful. So, so careful.

“Do you trust me?”

That question, though barely audible, caught Kuro off guard.

“Uh…”, wow, eloquent as always. “Y-yes? Yes, I trust you.”

He still kept his eyes firmly shut, but he didn’t really need his eyes to know what kind of expression flickered over Lance’s face when the smaller man inhaled sharply.

A heartbeat.

Then another.

“Okay.”

The soft hands at Kuro’s ribs gave him a reassuring squeeze, before Lance continued: “If I do something you don’t feel comfortable with… just tell me and I’ll stop. Got that?”

Another purring sound escaped the clone’s throat, followed by a small nod to make sure the other one saw his approval.

“Good…”


Before he could say anything in return, Kuro felt a hesitant pressure at his back. Warm and soft, barely noticeable, but still it felt like he’d been struck by lightning. His eyes flew open. Heat rushed to his cheeks.

The room around them was mostly dark, the only source of light being the warm yellow fairy lights, they had attached to the ceiling right above their shared bed.

There were soft blankets and pillows everywhere, effectively building a nest around the two of them.

And right in the center of all this cozyness there was Lance. Sitting right behind him. Drawing lazy circles into his sides. Pressing his ever so soft lips to the tender, badly scratched skin between his shoulders. Kissing him.


“W-what… what exactly are you doing there?”, the question came out as a high, squeaky sound that made him cringe.

Lance however seemed to have regained some of his confidence over the first contact of skin to skin. For he dragged his lips over the expanse of Kuro’s wide shoulders, right to the next cut, where they lingered, as light as a feather. A shiver ran down his spine, while Lance replied - lips ghosting over his skin with every syllable: “You know, back on earth we have that term ‘to kiss away the pain’. That’s what I’m doing here.”

“O-okay? And is that… some kind of Terran healing technique?”

Trying and failing at fighting off the major blush that set his whole face on fire, he finally gave up and opted for hiding it behind his hands.

Terran healing technique? Seriously?! What the hell, Kuro?


This… this was so surreal.

Kuro felt like combusting would be an acceptable reaction by now.


“No, you silly goose”, came the huffed response. “It’s called magic.”


And with that the Blue Paladins lips continued their journey from cut, to scratch, to bruise, to scar.


Until Kuro’s whole body tingled with the warmth they left in their wake.


Magic…

___

aaaand there we go. My final entry for the @kuroweek 2017. I’ve been longing to upload this for so long now!! Especially because I made my poor bean suffer like hell. He was in dire need of something good and happy. :3 I had so much fun doing this - all of my entries. This week was super awesome! Thanks!! :3

Little was left of her old self after I began molding her into my personal play thing. Her thighs were now much thicker than they used to be and her ass was much rounder and fatter as well. Her skin was perfect and her lips looked as if someone filled them up with air like balloons. But her personality was what really stood out. Once she was a graduate student studying for her masters. Now she was bubblier and giggled whenever she spoke. Her thoughts were now filled either with sex or nothing. The perfect bimbo.

Obey (Sub!Jimin Smut)

Pairing: Jimin x Reader

Genre: Smut (Mother Mary help)

Warnings: SMUT DEAR GOD SMUT, dirty talk, Sub!Jimin, Dom!Reader, orgasm denial, overstimulation, ass play, swearing, bondage

Word Count: 5586

Wow okay so I read @seokvie‘s and @btssmutgalore‘s sub!Jimin fics and they inspired me to write my own. I’m decently proud of this, considering I have 0 experience writing something like this. Thank you to @jin-oppa for gushing about this topic with me and @fortheloveofsuga for just being a good person in general.


Many would look at your boyfriend’s sharp jaw, thickly muscled thighs, and chiseled face and assume that he was dominant in bed. Rough, even. Jimin did, indeed, carry himself with straight shoulders and his head held high–long legs carrying him confidently across the room as his dark eyes zeroed in on something in the distance. He would present you out in public as if you were a work of art, his thick hand pressed into the small of your back and his full lips grazing your temple. If ever any other man raked their eyes down your body, his warm eyes would harden to stony obsidian orbs–either lowering his hand to rest on your ass or keeping direct eye contact with the potential threat as he brushed his lips across the expanse of your neck. Your boyfriend dominated you in romance, indeed. But you had a secret.

Park Jimin was not dominant in the bedroom.

He would occasionally play the dom role, his jaw clenching and nostrils flaring as he rammed into you from behind–leanly muscled chest pressed against your back as he leaned over you to growl obscenities in your ear through gritted teeth. When he was angry, he would pull your hair and bring you so close to the edge that you could feel yourself beginning to tip over, just before he would yank you back again. But that was only when he was so furious that he was seeing red.

Most of the time, he preferred to wholeheartedly submit himself to you. He thrived off of your praise, the little phrase “Good boy” nearly flinging him off the edge and into an orgasm any time you breathed the words into his hair. He loved to be tied up, and teased, and spanked until he was begging you to let him cum. He adored it when you tortured him with sucking on his cock long past he was finished, the mixture of pain and pleasure drawing him nearer to yet another release.

It wasn’t always so extreme, but there were nights when he needed to be controlled and you needed to control him.

Tonight was one of those nights.

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