#//Length does not need to be matched

[fxckin-blackbeard]

Skull and Bones

ᒥ☠ᒧ—        The hunt had begun, their colors hoisted high as the Queen Anne's Revenge moves swift in the wind. He holds the helm, standing tall and proud as his eyes locked on the merchant ship under hundred meters ahead. Just a three-masted Barque, nothing impressive, but had caught his eye nonetheless. Hunting a British trade route meant plenty of goodies on her: tabacco, sugar, or if they were lucky fine fabrics like calicoes and silk.

"Awright, dogs! We be upon her now!" Edward shouts to his crew, and came the fun part. Putting the fear of God into his intended prey. His men worked the main deck, pulling lines and prepping the gun decks.

He clears his throat and begins to stomp his foot, the pull began to move in sync with the rhythm their captain stomped loud.

"Yo-ho, yo-ho. The seas forever roll. Yo-ho, yo-ho. 'Til 'm not but skull and bones. Yo-ho, yo-ho." Edward begins, his crew working as one now.

"From outcast to kingpin, was born up on the sea! Ne'er was meant to walk the land, a pirate's life for me! Avast ye whining, up the sails, don't speak to mutiny! Or find yourself a'wantin' quarter, bottom of the sea! Among the shoals of Saint Anne, to the eastern shores! I'll take my chances on the wind, to loot and plunder scores! Our flag it stands for us alone, and no one else around! We owe our honor to the sea, and not to any crown!!" His voice booms over the deck, and many began to stomp their feet with their captain all while doing their job.

Just then, the crew begins. A thunderous chorus of voices shout together.

Yo-ho, yo-ho! The sea forever rolls!! Yo-ho, yo-ho! The winds forever blow! Long after I've met Davy Jones! 'Til I'm naught but skin and bones! Yo-ho!

Edward smirks, he had done this many times. The commotion of his ship, three hundred men shouting together in unison, made quite the impact on their intended target. It was haunting, chilling to know that many men were not only upon your vessel, but had the intention to board and loot you of your goods. It was a mind game, and Edward loved his games.

"So, me bullies, bottoms up! Raise the sails and drink with me! Here's to us! 'Live long and long live piracy'! Bring her round into the white, if treasures to be found! A pirate's life or nothing else, 'til the ship she's going down!" As he shouts, his grip tightens on the wheel. Excitement is overwhelming him now.

Yo-ho, yo-ho! The sea forever rolls!! Yo-ho, yo-ho! The winds forever blow! Long after I've met Davy Jones! 'Til I'm naught but skin and bones! Yo-ho!

"Heave-ho, me hearties one by one!"

Heave-ho, me hearties one by one!

"A pirate's life until were done!"

A pirate's life until were done!

"Heave-ho, me hearties bring her round!"

Heave-ho, me hearties bring her round!

"A pirate's life for me I've found!"

A pirate's life for me I've found!

Yo-ho, yo-ho! The sea forever rolls!! Yo-ho, yo-ho! The winds forever blow! Long after I've met Davy Jones! 'Til I'm naught but skin and bones! Yo-ho!

His crew were growing antsy, shouting at the top of their lungs now. Edward laughs, now near bouncing in place as he stomped his foot with all his might.

Song: || X ||

[quietlyblooms]

open to mutuals | based on this hc ♡

she had a feeling this would happen.

years of self-regulating have taught chiyo to notice the signs, subtle as they sometimes can be, so her breathlessness does not come as a surprise. she knows the chest pain and dizziness will soon follow, and though she's dealt with this a hundred times over, there is still a sense of panic to get out of view, to hide away and wait for the moment to pass. she doesn't want to be seen like this. she doesn't want to explain how the little things build up inside her until her lungs can no longer expand properly; she doesn't want to explain how the big things drown her, pulling her beneath the waves no matter how strong a swimmer she pretends to be.

that is why chiyo tucks herself in the corner of some room, shrouded in quiet darkness as her chest heaves with effort. the ceiling tiles are dirty. the door's got a silver doorknob. the walls are brown. that's three. i hear the air conditioning. i hear the door opening--- her already racing heart startles in her chest. chiyo tries to make herself smaller, hands shooting up to her mouth to muffle her labored breathing. she doesn't want to be seen like this. she doesn't want to be found. she looks up, brown eyes panicked and brimming with tears.

they see her.

[erstwhles]

the vow™️ / @musicallyiinclined

Liam's gaze lifts, despite his friends' conversation, as the newest group makes their way through the doors. He can't help the way he scans the sea of unfamiliar faces. There aren't many people here that he recognizes after the last several years were erased by the accident, but Zander's face has lingered in the back of his mind since that day in the hospital.

Husband.

The word is still enough to elicit a scoff, but it has been a couple of days since Liam has seen him. Though he had done his best to fall back into his normal routine as the doctor suggested, there was only so much he could take at a time. A husband and a whole set of friends and family he didn't recognize had been too much all at once. He needed a break. And though he could see how the suggestion of time apart had affected Zander, Liam needed time to think--to sort out his life from that which was taken from him in the span of a few seconds.

Given that they were married (are married?), it makes sense that they have friends in common. Even without warning from Nathaniel, he knew Zander would be here today. That had been enough for him to consider making an excuse not to come, but now that he has had some time to think, to hear stories from others and see pictures that document his lost time, he can't help the bit of curiosity that has taken hold of his thoughts.

It's why, as he spots Zander trailing behind the group, he decides to stay put, offering his best attempt at a smile and a wave as he excuses himself from his friends.

[levibrandt]

who: levi & capped (3/3)

where: downtown – exact location open!

when: november 22nd, 2024, early morning

Levi had exactly four (-ish) things on his to-do list: feed his pets and Maren (success), get Maren to preschool (success), check in on the cafe, and help around if need be (he stayed a bit longer than he’d hoped, but also a success), and get started on Christmas shopping, which was in progress. Sure, starting Christmas shopping before Thanksgiving could definitely be seen as unusual, and even though he came to the States as a child, his family never really did Thanksgiving. Even now, he didn’t. He also figured getting his holiday shopping done now would be a lot easier than cramming it all during those weirdly stressful days in December.

He walked down the sidewalk, AirPods in his ears as he focused on the walk back to his car a few blocks away. Putting the two handfuls of bags in his trunk, and then walking to get the rest of what he needed definitely seemed doable with the time he had. As he reached closer, Levi stopped when he felt his foot collide with something. He placed the bags that had been situated in his right hand down onto the pavement for a moment, picking up the object. Truly, he had already forgotten what he’d bought (sorting out his purchases was something he nearly always did at home, and he’d made a bad habit of buying on impulse), so whether it was his or not was really up in the air.

Noticing a passerby, he tapped them hesitantly. “Would this happen to be yours, by chance? I don’t know if it just fell out of one of these bags or not, but I figured I’d ask.”

[tonibeltran]

x. status -> closed for @elijahfalvey x. location -> o'shea's

Most of Antonio’s natural instincts are usually dulled by the fifth drink — you’d think this would render him useless when it comes to picking up signals, but there’s something to be said for how quickly the body can adapt to anything, if you let it. There’s a tall, dark man across the bar who’s been making eyes at him since he’d settled in his seat, seemingly biding his time. Antonio’s been in no rush — he’d needed a certain number of drinks to settle the parts of him he tucks away where no one looks, drowned beneath a liquor-fueled stupor and the fog of weed-soaked oxygen. In this way, he can hide whatever unpleasantness stirs within him, and instead allow the substances in his body to take over like muscle memory. Smile, laugh, converse. Kiss, push, fuck.

He’s finished the last drink that’ll surely do the trick when he stands, eyes still on the tall, dark man across the bar. The other seems to shift in his seat, an anticipatory look on his face. Antonio doesn’t think that he’d maybe do well to look at where he’s going until it’s too late and he’s accidentally shoulder checking a taller man who happens to be walking past him. The bar is not so crowded that the physical contact was unpreventable — he supposes the other man hadn’t been looking, either. Still, he is ready to end it with a muttered, “Ah, shit.”

Because politeness is inherent within him, he raises his gaze to meet the other man’s with the intention of apologizing quickly and being on his way. What he doesn’t expect, however, are the familiar brown eyes that look back at him, a shade darker than he’s used to seeing them in his dreams. Were his blood not mostly alcohol, Antonio’s sure it’d freeze where it’s running through his veins at the sight of Elijah Falvey standing not two feet away from him after years and years (and what, admittedly, feels like many more years) of his absence.

Whatever anger may have bubbled to the surface on a normal day is quelled by the cover of a substance cocktail. It works like a barrier between what he should feel and what he’s allowing himself to feel, and even so, a small part of him thinks the ground beneath his feet has shifted somewhat. He feels uneven, in a way he doesn’t particularly like, and something like longing is crawling beneath his skin in a desperate attempt to claw its way out. The consecutive, unwelcome memories that overlap each other in less than a second — Elijah’s smile, his laugh, his quiet concentration, the furrow of his brows, the softness of his touch — are harder to put down this time than any of the others, but he manages it through an impressive feat of determination and sheer, dominating will. 

So he puts on his laziest smile, allows the foreign matter in his body to lead his shoulders toward a slump, his uncaring, unfazed facade a perfectly practiced maneuver presented in the most unassuming manner. He nods at Elijah, as if he were greeting an old acquaintance he’d rarely ever spoken to, and says, “Oh, hey.” His smile turns a little crooked. “That’s my bad. Didn’t see you there.”

[lackenthusiasm-moved]

@butnobodyhome 💙'd for a starter!

The smaller MacLean didn't expect he'd be following the precedent set by his sister so quickly, but upon his escape from Vault 31, it was clear Vault 33 was no longer the safe haven it once was…if it ever really was. It would only be a matter of time before Betty found out what he'd learned from snooping around, and Norm knew she would have no problem with defending her position aggressively if needed. The others wouldn't believe him without substantial evidence, they were too entrenched in what they had been trained to accept by Vault-Tec. What was left for him to do but pack a small bag of supplies and exit the vault to the surface.

It had only been a day and a half since Norm left the comfort of the world he'd known his entire life. He'd made it to Filly, a settlement that up until recently was a bustling marketplace, he was told by a local. When he asked why it seemed so quiet there now, the local told him that the Brotherhood of Steel was to blame, not that Norm knew who or what they were.

In his asking around, he learned that the Brotherhood were soldiers…sort of. And that they’d taken over Filly to use as an outpost before relocating to an NCR base. In between that, he caught glances and quiet whispers about his Vault suit and another Vault dweller who'd passed through recently. Could it be that they were talking about his dad or Lucy? Felt too close to be just a meaningless coincidence.

He approached a woman who was wearing a dress and cowboy boots. She seemed, somehow, to have a familiar appearance as well, although he was sure he'd never seen her before in his life. “ Excuse me. Sorry to bother you, but do you know anything about the Brotherhood of Steel? Or the…NCR? ”

[fateprotected]

@owedfavors | plotted

She can't tell if it's separation or her imagination that has her running hot and cold. Pris is grateful she doesn't need to sleep, that adrenaline can keep her focused as she tries to feel out her part to play.

Calm and cool. Nevermind the violence, the death that lingers metallic at the back of her tongue. Nevermind the surprises, bitter reflections slightly out of place. Or more than slightly.

She'd have been proud to see Una captain her. Maybe she still will be. For now, she needs to keep from being caught out. So she props a hip against the door to her quarters, turning to face the other woman with a cruel smirk and eyes she hopes stay cold. Judgement. For now, that's all she'll feel.

"You've been awfully clingy, lately. Is there something I should know?"

Beloved, she doesn't add. Couldn't add. She doubts it would suit the version of her who belongs here, anyway.

[silentmagician]

Not me lore dumping in that reply. Sheeesh.

[webism]

pornstar!sukuna who has a niche for the dark and dangerous, he only accepts shoots that cater to his more… intense nature—ropes and chains and gags and rigs beyond the regular bedroom scenes.

pornstar!sukuna who works with many other actors and actresses. he's demeaned and degraded more people for a pay check than he can count, but his favourite is you. you’re not so easy to break, which he likes—plus, videos in which you bite back make double the profit.

pornstar!sukuna who is easy to agree when you call him one night asking for a favour. you were meant to do a camshow with another pornstar when he cancelled last minute—and you know people are excited for this one, if you don’t want to miss out on a paycheck you’d need to find a quick replacement.

pornstar!sukuna who is expecting a homemade bd/sm rig to greet him when he walks into your home that night.

pornstar!sukuna who isn’t expecting a bed with a pink duvet and matching fluffy pink handcuffs hanging from your headboard. it’s cute, he thinks—he can picture the scene, you laid out and fucked like a whore in pink. he’s eager, until you tell him the handcuffs aren’t for you, but for him.

pornstar!sukuna who is about ready to walk out, to tell you off for even assuming he’d do such things on camera, that he'd ruin his crafted image of this sadistic figurehead for a camshow of all things.

pornstar!sukuna who just can't say no and turn on his heels, not when you look up at him like that, your pretty eyes just too convincing. He's seen you fucked out and stupidly cockdrunk before, he knows what you look like when you submit wholly to him, and though it's a beautiful sight—one of his favourites—he can't deny that he's intrigued to know how you look through his eyes when they're glossed with desperate pleasure.

pornstar!sukuna, the notorious dominant, who loads up on thousands. of peoples screens handcuffed to a pink bed. Everything pink: the cuffs, the sheets, his mussed hair, the pretty blush that paints the bridge of his nose, the leaky tip of his cock as you stroke it, your nails painted pink to match.

pornstar!sukuna who growls when people start tipping each time he gets close to cumming. who looks so insanely out of place, big and imposing and so covered in tattoos that even his ridiculous length has been inked to an extent, all needy and growing all the more desperate as you keep denying him his orgasm. wrists chained to your wooden headboard, his muscles ache with the temptation of breaking free.

pornstar!sukuna who can't help but wonder if his life has been flipped on its head when you start praising him and he moans at your words alone. Who, for all his life has gotten off on inflicting the worst onto others, and can now feel the most powerful orgasm of his life cresting when those narcotic words spill from your lips. "doing so well for me, god you look good like this, sukuna."

pornstar!sukuna who can only hold on for so long before his taut-pulled patience snaps and burns on impact. so when he's watching himself through the display of your laptop, cock red and angry as it leaks in need at your denial of his orgasm again, he snaps.

pornstar!sukuna who breaks your handcuffs with one pull, and has you flipped over and taking his mean cock in less time than it takes you to process his movements. who is glad you were enjoying torturing him, because you're so wet that the stretch of his cock is only searingly painful and you're not pushed to tears... this time.

pornstar!sukuna who fucks you mindless for toying with him for so long. for airing out a side of him that is weak in the bones for you, and plastering it on the internet for anyone to see. he bullies his cock into you, mean and unrelenting—yet whispers the sweetest of nothings into your ear as he does so, low enough that your mic can't pick up on them—your ears only.

pornstar!sukuna who kisses you when he cums. his lip piercing cold against your lips, your legs shaking in desperate need for mercy as he paints your insides white.

pornstar!sukuna who laughs when you, in your cum-drunk haze, try to reach for your laptop to turn off the camshow.

pornstar!sukuna who promises your now-doubled viewer count that the stream won't end until you've come ten times on his cock—he's going to make an example out of you.

[outofthiisworld]

. ✦ ݁ ˖ @viopolis classified secrets aka evil organization gossip !!!

[🧪] There was a scolding on this old doctor’s tongue to the other that he pestered so; something or another about that painfully piss-poor posture, but he swallowed it. Instead, he grins. A self-satisfied, shit-headed grin that pulled Doc’s laugh lines taut. After all: it wasn’t everyday that The Great Gero’s attention was pulled away from that mechanical carcass he tinkered so much on.

It’d been awhile since Doc felt this excited, too. The humdrum conundrum of usual check-ups for both crew and experiments to ignore alike left him nothing more than a cog of the machine (with his own flavor of … unfriendliness …)

“Check it out—” Doc whipped out a datapad, some clunky thing with a crack split down the glass, but it still got the job done. A file was brought up after a passcode was keyed in: security footage. “New headway on that nebulous thing ATLAS picked up, you know that plasmoid from some solar systems back?”

The video started normal enough, with the plasmoid nebula barely contained in its stasis chamber along with two researchers diligently monitoring something or another. Occasional distortions of the energy itself were normal in the view of a camera lens, something Doc mentioned as the video continued, but then— it flickered. Again, and again. Until another static of distortion.

In the blink of an eye, the room became hyper-charged under its discharged static shocks, and a frenzy of cosmic sparks ignited the nearby machinery. The researchers were worked up into a panicked frenzy for the off-screen exit, but one was not so lucky.

Dragged back by a nearly invisible force, the researcher had disintegrated into nothing, not even dust. Then, their decimated corpse that ceased to exist began to renew itself back from the blink of oblivion— until an explosion, and the camera feed cut off.

“Fucking insane, right? Damn thing is far too volatile— the destruction we knew about, but that? That’s got Ol’ Beak Boy worked up.” Father Necrosis. A common nickname, if you wanted to find yourself shot out of the airlock. “He slapped me to oversee it with him— wants to try and shove that thing into a body.”

Doc scoffed in almost disbelief, oh but he was excited. Finally, something else to pass the time (and less bandaging up newbie researchers who got too close to the containment cells).

“I mentioned it might be good to find a way to stabilize it properly— something mechanical, less hazardous that way … but, you know him: bastard is persistent on it being ‘pUrELy OrGaNiC.’”

[greenvengeance]

@hifimuses // S.C. ( for 07 raph ! )

CLEO HATED THESE DAMN CRIMINALS. She had no idea who the fuck these pricks thought they were, but their audacity seemed to be growing with every blinking moment, tenfold every day. Ironically -- she didn't consider herself a violent person. At least, she didn't used to. But it was times like now, after she'd watched these guys point a gun, snag some lady's purse and run off with it in front of her child, well...she hung her morals and personal teachings up on a shelf, and bolted after them on pure impulse.

It was a group of six, with a lot more gunpower than herself. Luckily for her, however, guns weren't what she was planning on using today. Instead, the leader let out a surprised gasp as some...rope-like thing wrapped around the entire group, and lifted them up to the rooftops above. Each one let out their own surprised scream, yelp, or other cartoonish sound effect as they were thrown into the a wall, and slammed into it a few times.

The " rope " fell, and the men all watched as it slithered back to the towering turtle, reeling back into her mouth like a tongue. Flexing her jaw a couple of times, Cleo huffed out a breath with a toothy grin.

" Ya'know -- y'all sure picked a SHIT NIGHT ta' do this stupid shit. Hell, when ah'm good an' through with ya, yer gonna be wishin' it was Nightwatcher here an' not me. Unfortunately fer you, he an' ah' don't share the same moral compass. "

Ignoring the one man throwing the purse at her, she approached, but a thud from behind caught her attention. She turned around, and her brow lifted at the sight of the city's metal-clad vigilante, right there in front of her...and the grin only grew.

" Well, well, if it ain't the big man himself. Speak a' the devil, ah' reckon -- y'here to help, or would you just like ta' watch ? Ah' got this one covered. " She spoke as if she were talking business with an old friend, rather than a complete stranger on a rooftop in the middle of Harlem at 2 in the morning.

[cosycafune]

'CAN'T YOU HANDLE ME, BABY?'

0.8k words. sleeping with a man, Toji, double your age wasn’t on your bucket list. however, a tinder match up leaves you sexually curious — throwing away your sanity.

synopsis of acts: back shots, multiple creampies, unprotected sex, slight breeding kink, orgasms, him fucking you, whilst watching through the mirror, size difference, big balls, teasing, taunting, crying, mentions of oral, picture taking, infedelity and potential more. not proofread.

NOTHING within you knew what you did to end up here, struggling to take the man that you met on plain, old Tinder. A cum bucket wasn’t your first thought, even if you were a bratty mess.

A writhing mess, you’re mindlessly arched — Toji’s thick, heavy walls slapping against your filled cunt. Strings of thick, warm cum had filled you for hours, but Toji wasn’t willing to let you go. Unable to cry out anymore, consumed by Toji’s brutal pace, your body quivers heavily.

Not a sound fled from your lips, simply broken moans that barely surfaced — a symbol of your worn out self. To you, finding a man on a dating site, like this was extremely rare. However, nothing within you could decline the bulky, gruff, athletic man who kindly matched with a frail, doll-like you. No matter your weight, you still remained something miniscule, in need of conquering before Toji.

“Toji, can’t…last,” Stuffed effortlessly with Toji’s ropes of cum, his thick cock mashing your insides, you falter upon the ample bed with your strained words.

A large, overwhelming pile of saliva remains upon the sheets while Toji grins at you collapsing upon the blankets, being sure to drill into a quivering you. Shit, his ample smile never once faded within the mirror — a wicked grin licking upon his features with every ample thrust.

Innately, Toji’s girth exceeded anything you had ever experienced before, along with his length. Therefore, taking him for this long completely consumed you. Nonetheless, you never listened to your internal thoughts — warning yourself that you couldn’t handle him.

Even with him so deeply within your stomach, pulverising you, your cunt desperately sang his rough praises. Even as your beaten upon bubble butt weakly remains up, Toji can’t help but roughly steady your hips — colliding with a silently moaning you with glee.

Never had you been so fanciful with men who remain significantly older, but you couldn’t help but grind against him when he first entered your home. The restraint you once garnered wavered the moment Toji aligned his ample cock against your lips, throat fucking you recklessly for an hour. Wickedly, he tore into you immensely — so pleased with a teary, bubble-lipped you still yearning to take more. Fat globs of tears streamed down your face, but you couldn’t help but continue to let him throat fuck you — taking a picture and sending it to your toxic boyfriend.

Even whilst you almost choked, his cock lewdly smacking against your lips, Toji contently pushed you into intaking more. To you, you knew he discovered sadistic pleasure in seeing a naked, kneeling you — scattered with a sea of hickeys — obediently before his cock. Seeing you worship ever vein, the beads of cum that spew, the length of it, your battering doe eyes, completely consumed Toji immensely.

“Shit, I know you can…take it!” Toji bellows as he continues to flaunt his almost unbearable sexual drive, his sculpted hips prompting lewd sounds to flow from your squelching cunt. Squelching sounds cut through the serenity of the room, along with the straggled sounds that flee from your lips.

“‘Can’t believe you’ve been taking it…this long,” Knowing you’re flowing with Toji’s cum, even though you’re still being slip open by him, Toji grins with unfathomable glee.

“Fhm,” Wordlessly, exhausted, Toji softly tugs on your hair — forcing you to admire your teary, mascara-stained features in the posed mirror.

“A mess, and I’ve barely started,” Scoffing with his murmurs, Toji hums whilst your features are out of focus — completely corrupted by his cock.

“‘Can’t you… handle me, baby?” Grunting, feeling your walls tighten for the millionth time, Toji’s question falls pointless to a cumming you.

“Ohh,” Only bringing yourself to mutter something so useless, Toji realises the only thing holding up your conquered physique is his thick, veiny arm.

“Mhm! Yes!” Picking up his pace, Toji bellows while his ample balls bash against your buzzing clit — pushing you down on the bed.

“Ahhh!” Finding might to cry out, you gasp at Toji’s body weight falling upon you whilst he thrusts his deepest — pushing you further down on the bed.

“You’re…cute,” Moments away from finishing, Toji thrusts his deepest within you — his thick cock causing you to let out a struggled gasp.

“S-So…deep,” Muttering, Toji grins at your subtle coherency — drawing himself cumming his deepest within you once more.

“‘Better not…take birth control,” Remaining tattered, cum-stuffed vigorously, Toji admires his work — bringing his words to your ear.

“‘Didn’t stuff you…to not carry my…baby,” Not longing to pull out, Toji carves himself into moaning loudly through his words — his eyes rolling back at his cum shooting within your womb.

“Ngh!” Jolting at Toji’s bucket-load of cum punch your gut, you feel yourself accidentally come undone — endlessly filled with his prestige baby batter.

“Hm, weren’t you…saying you’d take me for hours?” Tiredly mumbling, Toji glances at an almost asleep you within the mirror — drool departing from your parted lips.

“Can’t you handle more of me, baby?” Desperation tinting Toji’s voice, he continues to conduct his slow pace — so content by the warmth of your clutching cunt.

do not modify or reupload any of my works. all works are written by me. all rights reserved; cosycafune. 2024.

[quietlyblooms]

this was supposed to be an ask response but well :' )) it went off the rails, so @1punch gets a separate thing instead!!

chiyo doesn't see saitama for a few weeks after her recovery.

she doesn't see anyone for a few weeks, too busy with work and pretending as if she isn't purposely taking on a heavier load to keep it that way. the more chiyo works, the less time she has to think, the less time she has to remember. the more chiyo works, the less likely it is that someone close to her will ask how she's doing when they must know she can't be doing well. they just want her to admit it and confide in them; they just want to be the ones to save her from the storm cloud that hangs above her head.

well, chiyo doesn't want to be saved. she doesn't think she particularly deserves it. anyone might say she did all she could, that she saved lives in the end, and she shouldn't allow the death of a villain to weigh upon her, but it doesn't change what happened. chiyo failed her friend, and she failed her long before her death. no one understands that, only thinks of the wounds she suffered. she's sick of it, sick of their reassurance, sick of---

she's sick of being in the hospital.

a stern doctor chiyo is all too familiar with leaves her with strict instructions to rest and a huffy, " you're lucky i didn't call your parents. " saitama makes eye contact with her briefly before she's resting her face in her hands. she is lucky that they called her friend at her request rather than her family, even if it isn't much better to make saitama worry. the first time he sees her in weeks, and it's in the hospital, looking as if she's been chewed up and spat out. that isn't fair to him.

when she intentionally worked herself ragged, chiyo didn't consider how it would affect her job or the people around her. she didn't expect to pass out, and new guilt rests heavily in the pit of her stomach, settling uncomfortably with what she's felt the last month.

this could have been much worse. she could have passed out during a fight, jeopardized someone's safety. she can't keep doing this.

" 'm sorry, saitama, " chiyo mutters behind her hands before she's running them through her hair and allowing them to drop to the edge of the mattress she sits on. she can't meet his eyes again, can't manage a convincing smile. " i shouldn't be troublin' you with this, but the doc wasn't gonna let me go without callin' someone, and my parents... well, they're already a bit much to handle right now. " she should give them a break -- they nearly lost their daughter. a pause, heavy with hesitation and words she doesn't know how to say, and chiyo sighs.

" thank you for this. "

[motomamita]

JUST HAD A THOUGHT !

König as a rising underground boxer, with his cute little nurse that comes with him whenever he goes. He lets no one else look after him and all his bandages have cute symbols on it.

Media is all over him and he just can’t help but brag about his cutie patootie nurse that only cares for him, and no other boxer has eye candy like he does.😵‍💫

boxer!könig × nurse!reader

warnings: +18, smut, sex!

you needed money urgently and you were in your last year of nursing. that's when you met könig, who was a friend of a friend of yours and who needed your services in exchange for good pay.

your first meeting with him was in the basement of a bar far from the city, late at night. könig showed up in the locker room, shirtless and wearing boxer shorts. his face and entire body had bruises and scars that seemed to have healed not very well. that's when you knew you were going to have a very hard job there.

in his following fights, könig managed to win and take first place in the standings. After each fight, both received a good amount of money that you shared equally. you spent hours with him in the locker room, cleaning his bloody face and placing bandages on his bruised knuckles. sometimes you got so late that könig invited you to his small apartment, where you took care of him until you inevitably fell asleep in his bed. könig took advantage and pulled you towards him, letting you sleep on his chest.

soon König gained recognition and was invited to fight in the best competitions in the city. both became a team and had to show yourselves as such. now you were wearing a matching shirt and skirt with the inscription "property of könig" on the back, so everyone would know that you were HIS nurse. könig dressed to match you, choosing the same colors of shorts that you choose for your little skirts.

the media began to take an interest in both, calling you "the little nurse" and praising the good chemistry you both had. noticing how your face became worried every time könig received a hit or how you jumped with excitement every time he won, without caring that your panties were visible under your skirt.

you also caught the attention of the other boxers who did not miss the opportunity to look up your skirt or try to talk to you. unfortunately for them, könig was always next to you, hugging you around the waist and growling almost like a dog when any of those sons of bitches tried to get close to you.

everyone understood that it was in vain to try to separate you, you were both there for each other. könig wore a chain around his neck along with a sign with your name on it that he always kissed before entering the ring because, according to him, it gave him luck. and every time he won, he would run up to you to hug and kiss you, not caring that he was dripping with blood and sweat.

dor your part, you massaged his muscles before each fight and even sucked his cock to make him more "relaxed." könig just let you do whatever you want with him just by feeling your skin on his and not going too far away.

today könig had fought the final against another guy, for a lot, a lot of money. in a fight straight out of a movie, könig had managed to establish himself as the supreme winner. the photos of you two hugging and kissing didn't take long, as did the glasses of champagne to celebrate. once the celebrations had calmed down, you took könig to the locker room, you had to clean his bleeding nose and a large open scar on his right cheekbone. but, he had other plans.

"that's it, keep it up.. c'mon.."

könig moaned, lying on a bench, while you rode his thick, sweaty cock. in your hand you still had the gauze with which you were trying to clean his wounds but it was difficult for you to stop in the face of so much pleasure.

at your waist you wore the könig winner's belt and several bills clutched in your short skirt. you couldn't stop releasing on him, feeling how your moisture fell down the length of his cock and wet his sweaty balls. the tip of his cock kissed your cervix with each thrust while your clits slapped against his happy trail.

"keep jumping, fuck you, fuck... my little nurse, always taking care of me, huh?"

könig brought his big hands to your breasts, breaking the buttons on your shirt and moving your bra, leaving your breasts in the air. you moaned at the change in temperature and your warm walls squeezed könig's throbbing cock. the breaths and moans of both of you echoed in the locker room as did the sound of your skin colliding.

"come on, make me cum, i know you can..."

he asked, now bringing his hands to your hips, helping you continue bouncing his cock. könig couldn't resist and raised his hips, fucking you hard and finishing inside you.

that night you returned home with the prize and with even more energy to fuck until the next morning.

[tojiphile]

ONE PIECE LIVE ACTION MEN + DICK HEADCANONS & SIZES

a/n. i wrote this last night at 5am while sleep deprived so the further it gets the more wack it gets LOL

cw/tw. f!reader, rough sex, blowjobs, dirty talk, slight exhibitionism, body hair, skinny penis, unprotected sex, for 18+ readers

MONKEY D. LUFFY

— 6.5” but thinks he’s average, so he doesn’t stretch it out with his abilities. not too girthy, but he makes up for it with his unrelenting stamina. it curves up against his stomach and leans left slightly. a little bit messy because he tried to shave it once and nicked himself, so he just settled with the hair. honey-toned towards the base and a deep red at the tip, especially when he’s raring to go.

— he wants to do it in every position, on every surface. he has you bent over the dinner table, one leg up and slamming into you mercilessly. he has you spread eagle in the bathtub, legs locked behind his back as he stuffs you full. it’s almost as if his dick is made for you, the curve perfectly abuses your g-spot as every orgasm overwhelms you, and you’re left a sobbing, babbling mess. he wants to know if he’s doing well, and he gets his answer when you chant “s— so, ah! good, fuck, d— don’t stop!” like a prayer.

RORONOA ZORO

— long, fat and heavy. he’s blessed with a stunning 7.3” length, though if anyone asks, he rounds down to make them feel more at ease. veiny. the mushroom tip is flushed purple, and it’s rests nicely on your tongue!! probably messy down there, he doesn’t see the point in shaving or trimming, but if you ask nicely, he’ll grunt, roll his eyes, and do it for you.

— you insisted that you didn’t need any prep, but as you straddled him, lining up your cunt with his cock, you soon realised your mistake. you have to spread yourself open, face scrunching up, and slowly sink down. he loves the feeling of your pussy walls fluttering as you start riding him. when your eyes flutter shut and your hips stutter, he takes control—holding you tight by the waist and fucking into you until you’re screaming.

SANJI VINSMOKE

— 6.4” and so so pretty. slender, with a pale shaft that leads into a rosy pink at the tip. it curves up and to the right. the carpet matches the drapes. he keeps it neat, though he probably doesn’t grow much hair anyway. he trims it once every few days, but he’ll never admit to it. smells the best AKA smells really clean, like soap.

— he goes crazy when you maintain eye contact and drop to your knees. you take his cock in hand, lifting it to run your tongue on the underside, tracing a prominent vein. you swirl your tongue around his sensitive head and his whole body is shaking, knees buckling as he chases that familiar high.

USUPP

— coming in at 5.8”, he makes up for it in his thick girth. when he jerks himself off, he can barely wrap his hand around it. he’s soooo sensitive that the wind can blow and he’s be hard. fat fat fat mushroom head that’s olive, golden-hued, and always oozing precum. heavy heavy balls. he might be clumsy and inexperienced, but his size alone is enough to make you drool. trims sometimes but only when he thinks he might get lucky.

— his hand grips your hair as you worship his cock, working magic with your mouth. as you jerk him off, you give small kitten licks to his leaking tip, tasting his salty precum. you whisper, “i want you” and before you know it, he has you pinned under him, rutting his thick cock into you desperately. his eyes are fixated on the way your cunt swallows him, and only strangled groans escape his lips.

BUGGY

— sorry buggy simps but he’s definitely a shower not a grower, though he still does comes in at a nice 6”! also, it’s ya boy, skinny penis. built like a tree branch but at least it’s really veiny, AND he knows how to talk you through it. so really, it might not be the most impressive but with his confidence when he’s fucking you? he’ll fuck you out and make you believe he’s 8” and 5”.

— he loves admiring your sopping cunt as it swallow him whole, your princess parts stretching to to accommodate his cock. he likes to fucks you. he presses you up against a window and fucks you from the back, choking you with his forearm and practically purrs, “taking me so well, ya dirty slut, fuckin’ cunt was made for my cock.”

SHANKS

— he doesn’t act like it buuuuuuut monster cock. it’s 7.8”, thick, and curved so much it slaps against his happy trail. let me tell you that when he sun tans, he does it naked. he lathers that horse cock up with sunblock and spreads eagle on the sand, hands behind his head, so he’s bronzed and beautiful. trims when he feels like it or if you ask, he doesn’t really think much about it.

— he doesn’t look like he’s putting in much effort when he fucks, barely breaking a sweat, but he has you writhing, hands gripping the sheets, eyes hazy and choking on your own spit. he knows what he’s doing to you. his thumb finds your clit, rubbing in delicate circles making you cum over and over again until you’re absolutely wrecked. when he’s close, he picks up the pace, grunting heavily, hips stuttering as he spills his seed inside of you. when he pulls out, he takes the time to finger fuck his cum back into you, your body shaking as you work through the aftershock.

[nadvs]

cam girl (part one)

pairing rafe cameron x female reader

rating explicit 18+

summary you work two jobs. by day, you’re a maid for the cameron household, where rafe degrades you any chance he can get. by night, you’re a cam girl, hiding your face so nobody can recognize you. when you discover your new subscriber, the filthy-mouthed man obsessively paying you to do everything he can think of, is rafe, you’re not sure what to do next.

» masterlist

+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*

“Make sure to bend down real low.” Rafe’s deep voice startles you.

You’re kneeling down as you fill the freezer with the groceries that were just delivered. You thought you were alone in the massive kitchen, but sure enough, Rafe is taunting you again.

You don’t even need to turn to look at him to know he’s wearing a self-satisfied smirk. A depraved part of you is excited he’s there.

“Is there anything I can get you?” you mutter, your attention still focused on your work. It’s your go-to phrase whenever he bothers you. Professional, but not exactly friendly.

“Yeah, is that the only uniform they give you?” he asked. “You don’t have anything tighter?”

You stand and turn to finally look at him. His baseball hat is on backwards and his arms are crossed, large biceps bulging beneath the hem of his t-shirt.

You smooth down the loose gray knee-length dress you’re wearing and you swear he’s undressing you with his coy blue eyes. You hate that it arouses you when he looks at you like that.

You’ve gotten used to Rafe teasing you. You’re almost sure he gets off on degrading you. There are other maids but you’re the only one he does this to.

“Nope, this is it,” you say curtly. If you didn’t need this job, you’d cuss this man out. Probably even slap him. But you need to stay cordial, and he knows that, riding the power trip whenever he can.

“Too bad.” Rafe knocks on the kitchen island before turning to leave. “I can tell you’re hiding a nice ass under there.”

You feel your cheeks burn as you go back to work. You only come to work at the estate on Wednesdays and Saturdays and the days can’t go by fast enough.

You appreciate every dollar you can make these days as a struggling college student. Thankfully, your other job as a cam girl has been bringing in more and more money.

After you finish up your day at the Camerons’ estate, you drive your rusted, old car to your apartment in the south part of the island. The space is tiny, but it’s yours, and it’s good enough for now.

You go live for half an hour at 10 pm every other night of the week. Getting your start as a cam girl took some time, but now you have 32 subscribers and are starting to make good money off the website.

Tonight, you’re dressed in a black push-up bra and matching thong. You never show your face higher than your lips, refusing to risk anyone recognizing you.

This is just for the money, although you can admit to yourself that you find pleasure in knowing you can turn on so many strangers with your body. You sit on your bed, your toys ready off-screen.

Over your last session, a new user with the screen-name figure8 joined your chat. It threw you for a loop for a moment, prompting you to worry it was somebody you know from the Kooks’ part of the island, but the chances are slim. Figure 8 is a general term and the man could be from anywhere.

“Hey,” you say slowly. “How was everyone’s day? Mine was so long.”

figure8 didn’t say anything the other night, just watched and subscribed at the end of the stream, but tonight, he types something a minute into the session as you sit in front of the camera, running your hands over your satin bra.

figure8: you gonna show those perfect tits?

You giggle, immediately stepping into your cam girl persona. You check to see that twelve users are now viewing your stream.

“You’d like that, huh?” you ask, peeling off a bra strap. “Anyone else wanna see what’s underneath?”

You notice the bouncing dots on the screen that tell you that viewers are typing.

v2bo: yes

dragon89: take it off

stonyon: play with your tits

You strip off your bra, touching yourself, your breath hitching as arousal tightens in your core.

Without hesitation, you picture Rafe’s hands on you. He’s always on your mind during your cam sessions as you impulsively imagine his broad frame on top of you, dominating you.

You try to play it off when he taunts you at work, but it’s not until you’re touching yourself that you realize just how much it turns you on when he talks to you the way he does in his deep, mocking tone.

figure8: you like to get your tits played with?

You smirk, surprised someone is asking you what you enjoy. Typically, viewers like to simply compliment you or order you around, but you never get asked about your preferences.

“I love getting my tits played with,” you purr.

You press your arms to squeeze your tits together.

figure8: you like a cock between your tits don’t you princess

The sexy nickname makes you quiver a little. You bite your bottom lip.

“I’m so wet already,” you moan. “And thinking about a cock right here…”

You take a dildo you keep off-screen and place it between your tits. You part your lips as you rub the toy up and down, hearing the chimes of tips from your chat coming in.

figure8: bet you’re so good at sucking dick. i’d fuck your tits and that pretty little mouth so nicely

“You wanna see how I use my mouth?” you tease.

v2bo: deepthroat

You put the tip of the dildo on your tongue, flicking and rolling it. When you finally put your mouth around it, you close your eyes, thinking of Rafe in his kitchen, thinking of getting on your knees and sucking him off.

dragon89: put it in your pussy

A new notification pops up on your screen: figure8 is requesting a private show. Your heart-rate skyrockets.

You’d never gotten the request before. You had set the rate at $250 for a private session, half-expecting that you wouldn’t get any takers. You’re excited about the money and the fact that this new, intriguing viewer is the one who requested it.

You quickly type privately to figure8: This session ends at 10:30 and then I’m all yours, baby.

You continue to play with the dildo using your mouth, getting it wet all over, when a private chat comes in from figure8: how much for u to end the live and go private with me right now?

You don’t want to risk asking for too much and scaring the man away, but the possibility of making more in a private session than you would in a live one is compelling.

You never know much the live sessions will bring, but a private show is guaranteed money. Ending your session early might piss off your subscribers and maybe even make you lose some of them… but you impulsively reply: $1000.

Within a few seconds, you get a tip notification.

figure8 tipped you $1000.

You quickly end your live session, deciding to later tell your subscribers that your internet went out, then open the private session with figure8.

“Hello,” you whisper. “You want me to be your own personal toy, huh?”

figure8: i dont like to share

You laugh. If he’s willing to continue to pay you for private sessions, you’re happy to oblige.

“What would you like to see?” you ask. “You wanna see how I’d suck your cock?”

figure8: tap it against your mouth

“You’d tease me, wouldn’t you?” you whisper. You tap the dildo on your lips, sticking out your tongue.

figure8: princess i’d go so slow with you until you’re soaked and begging for my cock

You feel yourself get wetter reading his words. He’s not like any of the other viewers you’ve had. He’s asking what you like, calling you a sweet name, not rushing anything.

“You want me aching for it, huh?” you purr. You put the dildo in your mouth again, slowly sucking and slurping.

figure8: that mouth is so fucking pretty

You continue to lick and suck, moaning on the toy, your panties drenched now.

“I want it inside me,” you say, realizing you’re not even speaking through your persona anymore. You’re actually turned on by him, actually wanting to fuck yourself with the dildo.

figure8: not yet. keep sucking it

You giggle, half-frustrated, and obey him.

“You touching yourself right now?” you ask.

figure8: yeah. wanna see?

You have the option of enabling media from viewers, but you never thought you’d want to see a stranger like that. But this man is something else. You click on the button to allow him to send you a photo.

“Send it so I can imagine you hard in my mouth,” you purr.

A few moments pass before the picture comes in. He’s lying down in bed, showing a bit of his toned stomach, his large hand at the base of his dick. It’s thick and long and so damn perfect.

“Shit,” you whisper. “Such a nice cock. I don’t think I could fit it all in my mouth.”

You’re not just saying it to flatter him. He’s huge.

figure8: you could if you tried hard enough

You lick your lips, pushing the dildo deep into your mouth, gagging a little.

figure8: the way you choke on it is so hot. fuck

“How am I doing?” you coo.

figure8: such a good girl. let me see how you touch your pussy. keep the panties on

The praise makes you ache for it even more. This started off as a job, a way to make money, but now you’re genuinely excited, wishing this guy could fuck you for real.

You tilt your laptop down, spreading your legs in front of the camera as you sit on your bed. Your thong is still on, but it’s see-through. You watch yourself on the screen, tits still in view as you put your hand over your pussy.

figure8: be slow with it

“You’re torturing me, you know,” you giggle. “I’m not a patient girl.”

figure8: i’ll make u be patient. i want u to beg

“Please let me take these panties off,” you whimper. “I need to touch myself.”

figure8: put your panties to the side

You obey, moaning at the pleasure of your fingers finally on your clit. You rub in circles and up and down, trembling.

figure8: wish i could eat you out right now. you want my mouth on your pussy?

“Fuck, I’d love that,” you say, imagining Rafe looking up at you through his beautiful eyes as he licks your pussy.

figure8: show me how wet you are. put your fingers up to the camera

You do as you’re told, showing him your wetness as it shimmers in the white light from the screen.

“See how much you turn me on?” you say.

figure8: take the panties off and stretch out your pussy lips

You eagerly slide your underwear off and throw them beside your bed. With your legs spread again, you pull your lips apart, giving him the perfect view.

figure8: good girl. you listen so well

You get a notification that he tipped you $500. You never thought you’d make this much money in one night.

“Thank you, baby,” you giggle. “You love this pussy, huh?”

figure8: ur so fucking perfect. i want to cum inside u. put the dildo in nice and slow, princess

“Finally,” you say. “Your cock would slide in so easily right now. I’m so fucking wet.”

The toy fills you perfectly, making you quiver. You start to slowly thrust it in and out, but the chat chimes again.

figure8: i know you’re needy but i said slow. put the dildo in and move your hand. i wanna see it inside you

“Sorry,” you tease. You move your hand so he can see the toy inside you. You watch yourself in the screen, the dildo hugged perfectly between your walls.

figure8: you’d squeeze my cock so fucking well

“What if you’re too big for me, hmm?”

figure8: princess we’d make it fit

You’re nearly writhing at this point. You scroll back up to see his nude photo again, imagining it inside of you.

“Your dick is so fucking nice,” you groan.

figure8: show me how you like to be fucked. make yourself cum. don’t fake it. i wanna hear u cum for real

You obey, thankful he’s finally letting you orgasm. You hold the base of the toy and plunge it in and out of you, the lewd sound filling your bedroom, and use your other hand to rub your clit. You whimper, making sure to keep your face out of frame, imagining this stranger thrusting into you.

You let the sounds of pleasure spill out of your mouth, uninhabited, knowing he’s stroking his dick to you right now.

The orgasm hits you hard, your legs shaking. You’re panting as you look at your screen to see what he said.

figure8: i just came so fucking hard

“I wish your cum was inside of me,” you say breathlessly. You try to catch your breath as he continues to type.

figure8: what’s ur favorite position?

“Doggy,” you say, surprised he wants to know more. “What’s yours?”

figure8: thats mine too. you can show me next time, princess

“You wanna do this again, huh?” you tease.

figure8: i dont want you showing your body to any other guy. i’ll pay you double what you make on your streams if you only do private shows for me

The idea intrigues you. It’s sexy how he doesn’t want to share you at all.

“How often you want to do these, baby?” you ask.

figure8: every night. i’ll give you 1000 for every show and tips for when you deserve it. i want to buy you some things and watch you use them. you’re mine and mine only

The thought of making $1000 a night is unbelievable. This guy is loaded with cash and wants to spend so much on you.

You would lose the following you worked hard to get, but you’d undoubtedly make way more money being this man’s personal cam girl.

“Deal,” you finally say with a disbelieving laugh. “Same time tomorrow?”

figure8: don’t be late

The chat window notifies you that he left. You’re still breathless, shocked at how you didn’t have to fake the orgasm with him.

You scroll to find his dick pic again, as if you’re addicted to looking at it. You turn your camera off and now that you can angle your screen up, you can take a better look at the image.

Your stomach drops. The gold ring around his forefinger. The bedsheets you change twice a week. You know who it is.

The man you just orgasmed with was Rafe.

{ read part two here }