#and she's so enormous i had to make her pants this morning

[hannahbarberra162]

Civic Duty (Breeding Hours with Sabo)

TW: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, NON CON, BREEDING KINK, MDNI

Um. Well. As the title says. Sabo is OOC but  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Royalty AU, Sabo x Reader, WC ~3k, I didn't edit this I needed to exorcise it from my body.

The soft sound chimes reverberated throughout the cold castle walls. Before, you would have found the sound soothing and pleasant, if you noticed it at all. Now, the first note of the tune had you on your feet, the book you were reading already forgotten and dropped on the floor. Before the song ended you were already gone from the library, scurrying to find the closest hiding place you could.The castle was enormous, filled with dozens of unused rooms and hallways you tried to hide in. Ultimately it didn’t matter because no matter where you hid, the Prince always found you. There was no escaping the fate he had planned but some part of you couldn’t submit without at least trying to defy his will. 

You ran as fast as your bare feet would take you, the skirt of your dress flying behind you. If you had a choice you’d be wearing pants but the Prince gave you what he wanted you to wear. He always chose fluttery dresses, the kind that trailed behind you as you ran. You suspected he got a sick thrill out of the chase which is why he hadn’t locked you in a cell. There were guards and advisors in the castle but they paid you no mind. The guards wouldn’t hinder you but they prevented you from leaving the grounds. 

Your heart was pounding as you found an old weapons room, completely empty save for a wooden chest. You climbed inside after heaving open the heavy lid, trying to close it as softly as you could. Trying to stifle the noise of your heavy breathing, you put your hand over your mouth. The darkness seemed to fall in on you, trapping you in the small space. Even so, you’d take being stuck in a chest over the Prince. Sweat pooled under your breasts as you waited, closing your eyes to focus on what you could hear. All too soon you heard the clacking of shoes on the tile floors as Prince Sabo walked at a leisurely pace towards you.

“Now where would a little rabbit hide?” Prince Sabo mused aloud, his voice becoming louder now that he’d entered the room. You knew he was talking about you but you tried to be as silent as possible in the hopes that he’d move on. His shoes clacked ever closer and your heart beat ever faster.

“She wouldn’t be so foolish as to ensnare herself in a trap, would she? Or perhaps she wanted to make herself a gift to her Prince?” His footsteps neared the chest, circling around it slowly. Your heart sank as you knew he’d found your hiding space. Hunching your shoulders, you curled into a ball for the inevitable. The lid of the chest opened all at once, Prince Sabo lifting the lid with ease. You cowered before him as he flipped it all the way open before considering you with mock sympathy. The Prince’s hair glowed golden against the light coming in from the opposite end of the room. Prince Sabo was known for his intelligence, his fighting ability and his good looks. But you knew him only as your tormentor.

“Poor little rabbit. But you know as well as I what we need to do. Come along,” the Prince said, picking you up under the arms like a child. Throwing you over his shoulder, the Prince carried you off to the Breeding Room like you weighed nothing. You squirmed and thrashed but the arm around your waist was like a band of iron. 

“It’s challenging for us both, you know. You’re tired after this morning, I can see it in your eyes. Afterwards you can rest in my bed with me,” Prince Sabo with a wave of his hand, like he was granting you a boon. You redoubled your efforts to get away - “resting” after was rarely refreshing for you.

You’d been taken by the Prince earlier in the year from your humble village. The Prince had gone from village to village with his Elite Palace Guard. All the women in the villages were lined up and the Prince looked through the assembled women for a suitable choice. Most dressed up for the event, putting makeup and their best dresses on. After all, the chosen woman would be the future mother of the heir, if not the Queen proper. They said that the Prince was just and kind, a powerful ruler who would only grow in influence in the greater East Blue continent. He’d become the ruler after a massive fire had claimed the lives of the King and Queen, leaving only Prince Sabo behind. He still bore the facial scar that showed his valiant effort to save his family. There were whispers that he set the fire himself using his immense magical powers but no one knew the truth.

You did not want to be selected, you liked your life in the peaceful countryside. So you hid in the farming fields when the Prince and his retinue rolled around, thinking he’d be none the wiser. But someone had ratted you out and he chased you down on his steed as you fled on foot through the fields. Knowing the lay of the land hadn’t helped you as he scooped you up and planted you in front of him on the saddle, holding your hair in one hand and the horse’s reins in the other. You felt his large erection rubbing against your backside as you rode but still prayed that he’d find you unfavorable.

He hadn’t.

Since then you’d lived in the castle, bred by the Prince at whatever intervals were deemed most fortuitous for conception. A chime would ring in the castle to signify that you needed to be bred by the Prince post haste, the Prince relieved from his duties until the act was complete. The times for breeding weren’t regular and didn’t come at the same time every day. Sometimes you’d be bred on the hour for an entire afternoon and others you’d have five hours to yourself to read in the library. It was maddening not to know when you’d be chased down by the Prince and bred.

Sometimes the Prince took you where he found you, no matter who was around. If he was in a meeting or granting an audience, he’d bashfully request time with his beloved, saying that it was for the future of the nation. The nobles would always say how he was so responsible to think of the nation, that they understood, that they would be back later - all as Prince Sabo gripped your arm in his bone crushing grasp. You quickly learned not to act out at that point - losing face in front of others was a sure way to be denied clothing the following day.

Once alone, he’d bend you over the nearest surface, flipping your skirt over your back and admire your exposed flesh. You weren’t allowed underwear, he said they hindered his ability to love you. You weren’t allowed to come unless on his cock or fingers but he continuously teased you, leaving you wet and wanting until it was breeding time. Even though your heart and mind revolted, the sound of the chimes had your cunt leaking before he’d even touched you. 

Most often he took you by force to the Breeding Room. No matter where you hid in the castle, you never willingly went into the same wing as the Breeding Room. As far as you were concerned it was a torture chamber. It was a room near his own, filled with various apparatuses to restrain or play with you. When you’d first come to the castle, you hadn’t known what any of them were or their purposes. He had made you pick the stand you’d be positioned on time after time until you finally understood what they did. Now he placed you how he wanted you and bred you like a bitch in heat.

And the worst part of it all was the inevitable climb and submission to pleasure he forced on you every time. Prince Sabo never hurt you or did anything more extreme than spanking. Even then, it wasn’t extended and you were fine by the next day. No, Prince Sabo liked to bring you close to climax only to let it slip through your fingers. He’d talk you through it like he was sympathetic to your plight, that everyone had to follow the rules - as if he wasn’t the one who made them. 

Hip checking the door open, Prince Sabo cooed at you like a lover would.

“Hmm, you seem to be agitated, more so than this morning. I think we’d have the best results with something relaxing for you, yes? Maybe on the couch?” He framed it as a question but it was an order. You’d never been able to sway him from his choice once he’d declared it. 

The couch was one of your most hated pieces in the room. You’d be restrained against the soft, cushy surface of the couch, your wrists and ankles bound to the sides of the plush furniture. Prince Sabo would put a wedge under your hips to keep them elevated so his come remained inside you after he was finally done. It was one of the physically comfiest pieces in the room, much better than the stocks or the cage. But with so much of you available to the Prince, it made him behave more like a lover than a stud. The Prince would trail his fingers over your now soft skin, whispered into your ear as he fucked you, giving you love bites and marks all over your body.

“N-no, please, not the couch. I’ll um, take the horse, please, not the couch!” you begged, continuing to struggle against Prince Sabo’s hold. He tutted at you while continuing on to the couch.

“You know as well as I that we must do this for the sake of the Kingdom. Be a good little Rabbit for just a little longer,” the Prince cooed at you as he deposited you on the couch. You were naked in seconds as he stripped you with precision, leaving you shivering in the cold air of the Breeding Room. Your nipples tightened with the expectation of his mouth and teeth on them while your cunt was eagerly awaiting his attention. The Prince was quite fond of sucking on your nipples, he said in preparation for when they would fill to feed his heir. The Prince, of course, did not disrobe.

You let your arms fall to the sides as you laid on your stomach on the sofa. The Prince clasped the restraints around your wrists, kissing each one before he did so.

“We must hurry, the optimal time to breed you is upon us,” the Prince said with sincerity. You didn’t think that was true since he spent so much time making you come repeatedly but you didn’t want the gag in your mouth again. Standing up to look you over, he ran a gloved hand over your back. You pulled slightly against the wrist restraints but as always, he’d locked them tight. He brought out the cushioned wedge and placed it in position under your hips, with the slimmest part of the wedge under your stomach. It effectively raised your ass in the air and kept it there for him to use as he saw fit.

“Hm, let’s determine where you are,” the Prince said, getting to his knees behind you. You squirmed as his gloved hands pulled the globes of your ass apart to inspect your cunt. You already knew what he would find, you felt your slick dripping from you already. Trailing his finger down your slit, Prince Sabo collected some of your own juices as well as his cum from the morning’s session. 

“You are wet but I don’t believe you’re ready to receive me,” Prince Sabo determined, continuing to run his fingers through your folds. “I will grace you with my mouth this session,” he said from behind. You’d heard that phrase enough times to know he was smiling, the mask of amiability slipping away. You whined as Prince Sabo restrained your ankles to the sides of the couch. You tried to close your legs but felt his strong hands on your inner thighs, wrenching them further apart. Prince Sabo tsked at you and you immediately opened your legs as wide as they would go. 

“We don’t need the spreader bar, do we, Rabbit? I think we’ve come farther than that,” Sabo said, kneading the tender flesh at the tops of your inner thighs. Leaning in closer, he licked a long stripe with the flat of his tongue up your entire slit, ending at your weeping hole.

“Delicious as always,” he sighed into your cunt. The Prince loved licking, biting, and eating you until you were a sobbing mess, begging him to breed you. He relished in your forced submission, bringing you to orgasm until he was satisfied. 

With a soft hum, the Prince set himself behind you and began his task. He was as cruel as ever, lapping at you sloppily, teasing your clit as he desired. He spent most of his time dancing around your clit but never quite reaching it. He didn’t tongue fuck your hole as he sometimes did since he’d already come in you that day, but he did push his thick middle finger into you, the loud squelching noise betraying your arousal. You couldn’t stop a soft moan from escaping your lips as the Prince was between yours.

“Ah, little Rabbit, you make such lovely sounds. I know you’re eager, shhh, I know, but just a little more. We need you prepared to fulfill your civic duty,” Sabo said solemnly, his thumb tracing your ready hole. With that, he resumed eating you like he hadn’t in months, this time his tongue rolling against your clit with precision. You tried to muffle your cries but the Prince had always been able to draw lewd noises out of you. You knew you were going to come on his cock, it was inevitable. That was the worst part of it all - no matter where you hid, no matter what you told yourself or how hard you steeled your will against him, you’d be coming around the cock of the Prince as your cunt sucked him in. He sucked your clit gently into his mouth as he added a second finger to join the first. Curling his fingers, he found the spot you wished didn’t exist, the spot that made everything feel so much more.

“N-no - n-not there, Pr-ince,” you cried, your voice breaking as he rubbed the spot while kissing your clit.

“Mmh, who are you to defy the will of the Prince?” Sabo said lightly while pushing harder on the spot. Resuming his leisurely meal, your toes curled as the precipice grew closer, the coil within you tightening ever further…until he stopped. You wanted to scream and thrash against him, you couldn’t take much more today. 

“Shhh, shhh,” the Prince said, rubbing your lower back with his hand. “I know, I know. We’ll get you there. You know I don’t like doing this either, but your orgasm exponentially increases your fertility. We have to do things in a certain way, hm? I’ll attend to you, little Rabbit, don’t fear. It’s time,” he said, false sympathy coating his tone. You heard him unfastening his pants and felt the tip of his fat cock prodding your wet hole.

“Aaah just so,” Sabo grunted as he sheathed himself in one brutal thrust. You mewled and the Prince stilled, as he always did, and allowed you time to adjust. A few moments later he began moving, thrusting into your backside and pushing down on your lower back. The effect made his cock hit all the spots that made your vision fade to white. You felt his heavy balls slapping your clit as he pistoned into you at a steady rhythm. 

“Good aah little Rabbit…taking your Prince’s cock so well nngh…such a scared little Rabbit, but it must be done hah. You need to be bred, your body craves being filled to overflowing with my seed. I’ll keep you stuffed full of my cock until you’re carrying my heir. And even then, I’m going to keep breeding you…you’ll be my little Rabbit forever….nngh…filled with my cock and cum….aaah,” the Prince said as he continued to work you closer to orgasm. His fingers snaked down to your clit and began rubbing it in tight circles. You began crying at his words as well as his movements, moans and mewls slipping out of you in equal measure. You couldn’t focus on his words as he played with your body and brought you close to release. The coil in your stomach was wrapping tighter and tighter and you knew the outcome before it happened.

“Are you ready, Rabbit? Ready to hah hah be pumped full again? If you want my seed, then come on my cock,” the Prince groaned, rubbing your clit even harder and faster than before. The tension in you snapped as you came with a cry around him, your cunt fluttering around him as your vision narrowed into black.  Your release triggered the Prince’s as well but he continued fucking you through your orgasm as he reached his own. You felt his hot come shooting inside you as his cock twitched with his release. He kept himself inside for a few more moments in order to ensure all his cum was kept within you. 

After removing himself, Prince Sabo used his fingers to fuck anything that had spilled from you back into your hole. You whined, the sensation bordering on pain. Prince Sabo placed a kiss on the middle of your back.

“For the sake of your kingdom you must endure, Little Rabbit.”

[its-time-to-write]

This may be a bit of a strange idea (Feel free to ignore this request)

But since your about Jaime Tartt baby fic. I had the thought of Jaime trying to give reader a break takes the baby in a stroller to training with Roy and Roy is just kind of like WTF and other hijinks ensue like maybe someone flirts with Jamie with the baby or roy gets left with the baby at somepoint or Reader is freaken out cause the baby is gone. IDK just an idea that has been stuck in my head since I read your baby fic

Dude this request was not strange AT ALL. It was actually nice because it was similar to something I wanted to write, and I haven’t been able to do that because I’ve been doing requests. THANK YOU.

i’ll still be right next to you my dear

Your daughter Bea is five months old. You’re still sleep-deprived, but less than you were a month ago. Jamie does his absolute best as her dad and your husband, but the weight of it still falls to you. Things have gotten considerably less tense, too, since you moved out of the flat and back into your house. It was weird at first, both you and Jamie walking on little eggshells around each other. 

The tension was broken with an all-hands-on-deck moment at 1am, when Bea had a stomach bug or something, and you two had no choice but to just laugh in resignation at the sheer enormity of the mess she made. There go the beginnings of sleep training. 

Bea had her own schedule, one that involved being an early bird like her dad. She would wake up five to ten minutes before his 3:30 alarm went off, and it got to the point where he barely even set it anymore. 

Jamie would get out of bed, throw on some pants, change her, and then zip through his morning routine. He’d put her back to bed, give you a half-awake kiss, then be out the door before Roy could knock. 

(Roy made that mistake early on, waking Bea. You thoroughly chewed him out in an exhausted rage. Jamie says it’s the closest thing he’s ever seen to Roy crying).

Anyway, at 3:55 this Saturday morning, Jamie kisses you, says, “I’ve got Bea, so sleep in,” and is gone before you even know what’s happening. 

You flop back on the pillow and are out in seconds. 

—

“The fuck is this?” Roy says the moment Jamie steps out the door, pushing a happy Bea in her jogging stroller.

“The fuck does it look like?” Jamie replies. “Her mum needed sleep, so Bea’s joining us for training.” He leans over the stroller to look at his daughter and coos, “Isn’t that right, angel?”

Bea makes a delighted gurgle and Roy grunts.

“Oh come on, don’t tell me the great Uncle Roy is daunted by a silly wee baby?” Jamie says, grinning. “You are Bea’s favorite.”

Roy glares at Jamie. “Don’t fucking lie to me, everyone knows Sam’s her fucking favorite. She even likes fucking Isaac better than me.”

Jamie pouts. “Don’t listen to him, Bea. We know you love Uncle Roy, even though he’s being a twat.”

Roy just grunts and looks at Bea. “You know how I feel about you, kid,” he says. She babbles. She knows. 

“Alright, come on. Suppose the stroller gives your dad some extra weight while he runs.”

Jamie grins, and starts jogging down the street.

—

You wake up to the sound of silence. No Bea, no Jamie. Just birds chirping and the sun shining. You squint at the clock. 8:37am. You reach for your phone and see a selfie from Jamie of him, Bea, and Roy marked 7:02am with the caption, headed to breakfast! 

You now have a hazy recollection of Jamie saying something about taking Bea when he left, but it felt like a dream at the time. The silence makes more sense now. 

You smile and send heart emojis. I love you! you type. 

love u 2, Jamie replies. Then: I hope that was for me not Roy?

You shake your head. That boy. He thinks he’s a comedian.

You roll out of bed and stretch. Time for a nice, long shower, then a good coffee from Jamie’s complementary espresso machine. You’re not gonna lie, there are certain perks to being married to a footballer.

—

Meanwhile, Jamie and Roy have stopped for breakfast at a café that Roy says fits in with Jamie’s diet. He says no coffee and Jamie makes a disgusted face and replies you’re not the boss of me, which is why they’re letting Bea decide if Jamie gets coffee or not by seeing who will get her to smile first. 

Jamie wins, of course. It’s part of being a dad. 

They’re sitting at a table outside till 9am, Bea out of her stroller and in Jamie’s arms. They’re on their third cups of coffee and Bea’s draining her bottle of formula like there’s no tomorrow. Jamie is in the middle of stroking Bea’s nose (a miniature version of yours) and watching her eyes blink slow, when two girls walk up to their table. 

“Ohmygod, no way, is that your baby?” one girl asks. 

Jamie looks up and gives a polite, perfunctory, “yeah,” and turns back to Bea. Roy’s sitting back in his seat, ready to watch this unfold. 

“It is like, so totally adorable. There’s something so sweet about a baby, don’t you think?” the other girl says, putting her hand on Jamie’s shoulder. He shifts away as politely as he can. 

“I just think that like, men with babies are so much hotter than men without babies,” girl 1 continues, oblivious to Jamie, who has shifted Bea onto his chest and is displaying his left hand as conspicuously as possible. He taps Bea’s back with his ring finger in what he hopes is an absentminded manner. 

Roy holds back a snort.

“Especially single dads,” says girl 2. “Soo hot. I’ll give you my number if you ever need a babysitter.”

She’s barely done speaking when Jamie blurts out, “I’m married.” He looks so harried that this time Roy can’t hold back a laugh. The girls turn to him with a glare, then back to Jamie. 

“She doesn’t have to know,” says one of them. 

“Pretty sure she does,” Jamie replies. “And anyway, I ain’t interested. Have a good morning.”

Bea, the angel that she is chooses that exact moment to start burping. 

The girls give her a disgusted look and turn away. 

Roy looks at Jamie, eyebrows raised and a ghost of a smile on his face. “Nice fucking move with the ring finger,” he says. “If it were me, I’d’ve fucking given them a different fucking finger.”

“That’s where you and me differ, granddad,” Jamie replies, wiping spit up off his vest (waterproof, thank god), “I’m a gentleman.”

Roy rolls his eyes and shakes his head. 

— 

The windows are open, the laundry is spinning, and you’re dancing around the house. You love Bea, but god you also love good rest. And a clean house. And Jamie Tartt. Man, you love him. You can’t believe he took Bea out for the whole morning and knowing him and Roy, they’ll be out until at least 11am. You smile. That gives you time to head to the shops and pick up some flowers, which will make you feel like a civilized human being, one who has her life together and can take care of her child and her husband and maybe, just maybe, one who is in the mood to get laid tonight. 

—

Jamie and Roy are strolling through Richmond, passing by shops and enjoying what feels like the first lovely day in ages. Jamie hasn’t heard from you since you asked is this shirt clean or dirty? with a picture near the washing machine. He knows Saturday cleaning is like a ritual to you, one you picked up in high school and carried on through college. You have a system and you take your time, windows open and music playing. He can picture you spinning around the house putting things away, and that mental image is enough to make his face split into a smile. He remembers the Saturdays you spent before Bea, you cleaning and dancing, and him, well, not helping but certainly dancing with you and promising that he’ll give you more dirty sheets to wash if you’d just take a tiny little break? In the bedroom? With no clothes on because they need to be washed, wink wink?

It usually worked. 

You’d lay in bed for precisely ten minutes afterward, take a no-nonsense shower, then kick him out of the house. He’d be gone for an hour, buying you that chocolate you liked and whatever flowers he thought suited the day. There’s a good thought. He should get you flowers, a reminder of their early days of romance. And maybe, just maybe, Bea can sleep soundly enough that they can revive other traditions, too. 

“Roy,” Jamie begins.

“No.”

“Oi, you didn’t even let me finish!” he says indignantly.

“Fine. What do you fucking want.”

“It ain’t for me,” Jamie says, “it’s for Bea. And my wife. I want to get her flowers, but it ain’t easy to push the stroller and look. Can you take Bea around the green? I’ll come find ya when I’m done.”

Roy stares at Jamie, and Jamie is sure he’s going to say no. But then Roy walks around to the front of the stroller and crouches down in front of Bea. 

“If your dad fucking goes and gets flowers for your mum, do you promise to be alright for twenty minutes? I know I’m not fucking Sam or Isaac, but Phoebe thinks I’m a good uncle. She’s a proper fucking dweeb, but a good judge of character.”

Bea just stares at him. Roy slaps his thighs and stands up. “Alright,” he says. “Let’s go.”

Jamie grins and says, “Bye, Beatrice. Be good for Uncle Roy.” He gives her a kiss on her forehead, a boop on the nose, and is gone, weaving through Richmond, man on a mission. 

“Your mum’s a fucking saint for putting up with him,” Roy says to Bea. Bea says nothing. She’s fallen asleep. Roy shrugs and starts pushing her in the direction of the green. Better asleep than crying. 

—

You’re showered, dressed, with just a touch of makeup, and you’re on your way to the flower shop. There’s this little one you and Jamie used to go to. You know the owner a little, but you suppose Jamie knows her better because he’s been in more. She’s about the age of his mum, and has a soft spot for him. He overpays and always leaves one flower for her. He hasn’t had the time to be over since Bea, so you say hello and show her some baby pictures, and then some of Bea and Jamie. You both laugh over your favorite, Jamie passed out on the couch, mouth open, wearing gray sweatpants and a single sock, with Bea on his stomach in a gray onesie and a single sock. She’s drooling on him and his hair’s a mess, but you think it’s adorably hilarious. Like father, like daughter. 

Now, you’re perusing the flowers. It smells wonderful, the warm weather diffusing the fragrances through the shop. You turn a corner and bonk straight into a man with his back turned to you. You open your mouth to apologize and he turns, and out comes, “Jamie?”

He smiles and you peer behind him. “Where’s Bea? Oh my god Jamie, did you lose our daughter? She had better be close by, I swear to god, Jamie Tartt, how do you lose an entire baby, especially one as noisy as Bea?!” 

You’re oblivious to Jamie’s attempts to interrupt your rant, so when you pause for a breath he says, “love.”

You turn to face him, from where you were trying to stand on your tiptoes hoping for a glimpse of Bea’s stroller. 

“I didn’t lose her. She’s with Roy. D’you really think I’m that irresponsible?” 

He looks so hurt that you realize what you’ve been saying. Your hands fly up to your mouth. Of course Jamie wouldn’t lose Bea. He loves her. He looks at her as though she makes the stars shine. 

“Babe. I’m so sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking. I just wasn’t expecting to see you, and then I wasn’t expecting to see you without Bea, and I thought I’d surprise you by getting flowers before you both got back, and-” you stop. Jamie is gently holding your face and smiling, no longer hurt. 

“Babe,” he says, “love of me life and best mum around, it’s ok. I know whatcha mean.” He tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “Bit funny we had the same idea, innit?”

You smile. You’d been so caught up in your split-second worry about Bea, you didn’t even realize what was happening. 

“Guess some things don’t change,” you reply. “You pick out any good ones?”

Jamie places his hand over his heart. “Love. I only pick out good ones. I picked you, didn’t I?” You laugh at his sparkling eyes, and put your hands on his waist, pulling him close. 

“Pretty sure I picked you,” you reply. 

Jamie hums. “That’s a fuckin lie, and you know it.”

Your feeble retort is cut off by his lips on yours. 

—

You and Jamie walk toward the green, hand in hand. He’s holding bright yellow daffodils in the other. 

Jamie spots Roy first. “Oi!” he yells, “look who I found!”

You wave, jog over to Bea, and crouch down. “Hi baby! I missed you! Did you have fun with Uncle Roy?” Bea babbles at the sound of your voice. 

“Oh good,” you reply, “he is your third-favorite uncle, after all.”

Roy nods. “You fucking get it. Jamie tried to feed me this fucking bullshit that I was fucking number one.”

“Jamie!” you say. “Everyone knows it goes Sam, then Isaac, then Roy.”

Jamie puts his hands up defensively. 

“Honesty,” Roy says, “Such an admirable quality. Remind me again why you’re with this fucking prick?”

You pretend to think for a moment then say, “For his money.”

Jamie says “Oi!” so you quickly amend, “And his smokin’ hot body.”

Jamie nods, satisfied. “That’s better.”

Roy is looking at Jamie in disgust. “You two are so fucking adorable, it’s fucking disgusting. C’mon Bea. I see Sam over by that bench. Let’s give these fucking idiots some time alone.”

You and Jamie turn to each other. 

“He said we’re adorable,” you say, grinning. 

“He said we get alone time,” Jamie says, grinning back. 

“Roy!” you call, “how much time do we have?”

“Three hours!” Sam yells back. “I want to walk Bea to my restaurant!”

You and Jamie turn back to each other, giddy. 

“You know what that means,” you say. 

“Sex,” he replies immediately. 

You laugh and grab his hand. “C’mon, babe. Let’s enjoy our alone time.”

As you walk away, Jamie says, “Oi, need to tell you about these girls who were trying to flirt with me. But don’t worry, I gave them the finger.” He holds up his ring finger and you slap his arm. 

“This is why I love you.”

“Really? And here I only thought you were with me for my money,” he replies. 

“And your hot body. Don’t forget that one,” you say. 

“How could I forget?” he says. “When we get home, let’s put it to some good use.

[firawren]

“Can I sleep in your bed tonight?”

Beast squirmed. “I don’t know, Belle…”

“Please? I really liked having you with me in my bed, but your bed is bigger.”

He had liked being in her bed too, but that was the problem—he liked it too much. It had been so hard to pull away from her soft body and warm mouth that morning. But it was so hard to say no to her, too.

“Alright.”

Her face lit up with delight, and she linked her arm with his. “Let’s go!”

Beast felt a nervous anticipation fluttering in his stomach as soon as they walked into his room. She’d been in here before, but never with the intention to share his bed. They walked toward it together, and Beast swallowed thickly. The bed had been magically repaired and beautified when the curse broke, but was still enormous and solid enough for a huge beast like him. He knew for a fact it could stand up to the force of his frenzied rutting, in those times when his animal lust drove him over the edge. But there would be no rutting tonight, he firmly reminded his already betraying body. Just sleeping.

As soon as they stopped by the bed, Belle started unlacing her dress, and Beast’s eyes widened. “What are you doing?”

“Getting undressed for bed. Don’t tell me you normally sleep in all your clothes.”

Normally he slept naked, but there was no way he’d be able to make it through the night in a bed with Belle if he wasn’t wearing pants. He doubted he’d get much sleep tonight as it was.

But sleeping fully dressed like he had last night was dreadfully uncomfortable. So he pulled his shirt off and left it at that. Belle had seen him like this before. This would be safe enough.

He climbed into bed and stared hard at the ceiling while his blasted beast ears picked up every hushed sound of fabric sliding over soft skin and dropping to the floor as Belle finished getting undressed.

The previous night she had been sleepy, but tonight she seemed not to be, running her hands into his mane and kissing him eagerly as soon as she was beside him. He grunted and curled a paw around her waist, holding her close as his tongue explored her mouth.

The rich scent of her arousal bloomed out from her, making Beast feel almost giddy with want. He pulled his mouth from hers to bump his snout into the crook of her neck, where her scent was even stronger. His nostrils flared as he breathed it in, filling his greedy lungs with her desire. He swept his tongue over her throat, needing to taste more of her, and she moaned and rocked closer to him.

Continue reading chapter 8 of Transformation on AO3

This gorgeous artwork by @rain1940 was commissioned by my friend @thefamilybruno to go along with my Beauty and the Beast fanfic Transformation. In chapter 8, things start getting spicy as Beast and Belle finally start sharing a bed, though they won't end up as they are in this artwork for a wee bit longer yet...

[lara-kaminari]

The benefits of the modern era

(Sebastian Sallow x F!MC)

AU University / +18/ ONE-SHOT / Explicit Language / Fantasize.

-----

Note: I had this thought and I had to write it down

----

Sebastian Sallow is a great lover of the modern era.

He loves advances in technology, medicine, music and art. It has evolved enormously in different aspects of everyday life. Who would think that today you press a button and you can communicate with a person twenty countries away? It is exquisite. So much to learn just one click away from achieving it.

However, above all the existing achievements of the human species, what Sebastian Sallow loves most about modern times are short skirts. Blessed invention of this new century, amen to freedom and free expression of bodies!

Perhaps, in a bleak time where light is produced only by candles and not by electric bulbs, Sebastian would be content to see the ankle of some neglected damsel. Now he pities those ancient customs full of false decorum and little skin-to-skin contact.

In fact, if it comes to that, Sebastian also loves the university library: It's comfortable, spacious, has those soft armchairs that are usually backless. Covered by a rigid fabric that can be made of different materials: leather, fabric, plastic, the interior is filled with soft materials such as polystyrene pieces which makes it adaptable to different spaces and uses. Its structure resembles a large cushion as it has no legs, resting its entire base on the floor. He can just lie down with a good book between his legs and enjoy the world from a different height.

The low height allows him to see the girls climbing the moving ladder to grab a book from the high shelf or those who spread their legs a little apart as they sit at the table in front of him.

And there he was. Sebastian snuck up stealthily, grabbed a book and leaned back on the colorful rubber seat in the corner of the place.

If anyone messed with him, he would make believe he was reading some very important history for his exam.

There was not much activity the first hour. Indeed, the warmth of the room and the comfort meant that sleepiness began to wash over him. It would have been a wasted morning except that, suddenly, he heard a stack of books fall and someone groan in pain, very close to where he was.

Sebastian sharpened his vision, the bookshelf hid a girl who now bent down to pick up her books. The position of the two was a blessing for him: the sight of striking green panties greeted him. Quite a sight.

The girl kept crawling to pick up all the scattered books. Something she was whispering, but Sebastian didn't give her enough interest. His attention was fixed on those high socks squeezing her thighs. The sight was enchanting and more so because she was swaying as she picked up each book without realizing she had a shameless onlooker.

Sebastian wondered how hard it would be to agree to such a fuck. Desperate bitches don't usually go to the library. Maybe she'd just be an easy-to-win bimbo. A couple of nice words and he'd have her in the bag. An hour locked up with her and I'd come home with that cute pair of green panties tucked in my pocket.

Those panties that fit those lips perfectly, Sebastian could run his fingers down the middle of those pretty legs and hear her let out good girl squeals. He could rip that fabric and fuck the girl in the middle of those soft couches while the stranger struggles not to scream. Maybe force her to bite the fabric of her panties to keep her quiet while he fucks her ass in the nearest bathroom.

He placed his hand above his fly, settling the future problem between his pants. This was no time to make a scene.

Sebastian moved back into the position of innocent reader when he saw the young woman shake out the bottom of her skirt with the intention of getting up. Perhaps, when she passed in front of him, Sebastian would catch her eye. A good conversation, a couple of compliments, nothing would make him happier than to feel what he could only taste with his eyes.

—Hi Sebastian, studying again?

Shit.

—Hi MC, you know me.

Fantasizing about his best friend he's known since the fifth year of high school is not a source of pride for Sebastian, this could become a problem if he doesn't undo that mental image right then and there. It was just a silly thing, no green panties and short skirts, just a misunderstanding.

—Sebastian, are you all right?

In an ancient era, he would be a man of honor who would not accept false advances. He would stand up, absolutely spotless, and say something like, "Splendid, my dear, never been better," and then walk far away without looking back. But this is the modern era and men don't have as many social skills as they used to.

Stupid modern era.

[erikahenningsen]

18 but polaroid Cadina pls🙏 (with Regina’s family)

18. Christmas dinner

Cady kind of can't get over how big Regina's house is. She's been in some nice houses—even the home of Northwestern's president, once. But it's nothing compared to this.

Every part of the interior looks like it was professionally decorated for a Christmas movie, and photos of Regina and Kylie line the walls. There's posed, curated photos and action shots of Regina doing gymnastics and Kylie cheering and dancing. Cady thinks her mom has a couple photos of Cady on her desk, and that's about it. It almost feels like a shrine.

Regina keeps shooting Cady nervous or apologetic glances whenever her parents say anything, but Cady honestly doesn't think they're that bad. Regina had spent about five full minutes preparing Cady for every weird or awkward or offensive thing her parents might say, which made Cady expect a lot worse. Sure, Mrs. George greeting them with "There's my lesbian daughter and her girlfriend!" wasn't great, but at least it was kind of welcoming.

Cady's never spent a Christmas morning carefully applying makeup and curling her hair—or, rather, doing her best and letting Regina fix it—but she's never woken up on Christmas morning next to her girlfriend in her massive king bed before, either. There's a pageantry to Christmas at the George house that Cady finds jarring, but she doesn't really care. She gets to be with Regina, and that's what matters.

Regina looks so pretty, too, in a maroon velour top and black high-waisted pants, gold pendant resting between her collarbones. Cady understands now why Regina wouldn't let her bite them last night.

"Ready for competition season, Regina?" Mr. George asks, sipping his wine.

"Yeah," Regina replies. "We've got some good freshmen. One of them is great on bars, which we need."

Mr. George nods, and Regina seems to tense like she's expecting him to say something critical, but he doesn't. "That's good," he says. "Gretchen's anchoring, then?"

"I think so," Regina says. "It's not definite yet, but she's our best."

"Cady, you should record some TikToks with me while we're here so I can post them before Regina's meets!" Mrs. George says. She's already on her second glass of wine.

"Mom, Cady doesn't want to be in your TikToks," Regina cuts in, rolling her eyes.

Mrs. George pokes out her lower lip, like a pouting child. "At least say hello to my Christmas vlog."

"I get paid for my name, image, and likeness, but you can have thirty seconds for free," Regina concedes.

Regina looks at Cady and rolls her eyes, and Cady squeezes her hand under the table.

Regina and Kylie eschew dessert, and Regina mouths trust me when she declines on Cady's behalf, too. After being excused, Cady follows them down to the basement, where the largest television Cady has ever seen takes up an enormous portion of the wall.

Regina reaches behind the sectional sofa and pulls out a plastic shopping bag, opening it to reveal an assortment of Christmas candy and cookies.

"My mom makes weird, low-carb, sugar-free stuff," Regina says as Kylie pulls a package of Oreos out of the bag. "We hide the good stuff down here."

Cady finds that to be kind of sad, but she doesn't say it, instead taking a couple Reese's Trees for herself.

"The fake sugar makes you poop," Kylie says sagely.

"Um, noted," Cady says.

"Can we watch Elf?" Kylie asks.

"We watch Elf every year," Regina complains. "We watched it a few days ago."

"Elf?" Cady repeats. Like the makeup brand?

Kylie turns to look at her incredulously. "The movie?"

Cady shrugs.

"You've never seen it?" Kylie nearly screeches. "It's, like, the Christmas movie. Were you raised in a barn?"

"Hey! That is so rude," Regina scolds, at the same time Cady says, "Kinda."

"We have to watch it," Kylie declares, grabbing the remote and turning on the television.

Regina sighs and flops down on the couch. Cady curls up next to her and breathes in her perfume. "We don't have to watch it," Cady says quietly.

Regina rolls her eyes. "It's fine. Plus, it makes her happy, so..."

Cady leans in and pecks Regina on the cheek. "You're sweet."

"No, I'm not." Regina wrinkles her nose at Cady.

Cady leans into Regina's side and rests her head on Regina's shoulder. "Agree to disagree."

"Will you two be quiet?" Kylie admonishes.

Regina throws a wrapped Ferrero Rocher chocolate at her. "You can recite this movie from memory."

"But Cady needs to watch it," Kylie insists.

Regina's hand rests on Cady's thigh, thumb absently swiping back and forth. "Sorry," she murmurs.

Cady can't really think of anything she'd rather be doing right now, cozy on the couch with Regina. But she says, "You can make it up to me later."

It's always good for Regina to owe her.

[elliebyrrdwrites]

Marriage Law Trope part 3

Obviously, Granger refused to have the ceremony at the manor, despite all of my mothers requests and horde of howlers. Mother wanted to save all of the time and money she spent planning her only sons wedding. So, she brought the ceremony to Granger.

Inside of the ministry, is this sad little room for the kinds of witches and wizards who want to get married without all of the hoopla. They either don’t have the money to spend on a big wedding, or they just need the marriage for legal purposes.

But mother fills this room with the white Lillie’s and the pink carnations and she charms to ceiling to sparkle. There’s a massive wedding cake in the middle of the room on a table she set up herself. It’s three tiers with the smallest one holding two figurines of a bride and groom. The bride originally resembled Astoria with her black hair and pale skin. I had to ask Theo to transfigure it to resemble Granger. He managed to transfigure the skin to resemble the sandy color of Grangers and the hair to grow two sizes bigger, but it’s still black. Not brown.

With a shrug, he moves back to my side. We’re both leaning against a wall, and I’m dressed in the first clean(ish) suit Theo could find before forcing me out of the door.

The finality of last nights drunkenness simmered into a buzz and is now boiling rapidly into a hangover. It starts with a headache that begins at the base of your skull and then it wraps around and you swear you can feel your brain scraping against your scalp because you’re so hungover you think everything has shrunken or expanded. You aren’t really sure, but all of those scenarios pop into your head and you just can’t even blink without the pain landing into your brain, behind your eye sockets.

The point is, I feel like shit on what some may consider the most important day of my life.

Theo peers at me from where he’s leaning and begins to dig through his pockets. Inside of his jacket, in his pants pockets. I don’t know what he is looking for and I can’t understand how he keeps digging around in the same pockets for long periods of time but finally. He produces a vial of something bright red and holds it out to me as I watch my father hiss into my mothers ear. Across the room, he’s telling me, my mother, the worl, that at this is the worst thing to ever happen to the Malfoys.

“Take this.” Theo says and I take the vial, without looking it. I take the vial and uncork it before tossing the entirety into the back of my throat.

Because potions are not new to me. Potions are what I do. It’s just that, ever since Granger rolled into that room last week, I don’t want them. I hate them. They dull everything inside of me and everything around me. And so, every other night, I skip them. Every other night, I let myself feel the spread of my sheets as i lay down to sleep. I mull over data and information, mostly about the things insane and heard and I felt.

And then I close my eyes. I blink and then it’s morning. Everything stops and then speeds up until the sun is shining through my curtains. Sometimes I doubt that I even fell asleep.

The point is, I didn’t take my potions last night because I wanted to feel the enormity of this day. I wanted to remember the way it felt to watch Granger say ‘I Do to Draco Malfoy.

It’s not like I have any romantic feelings. It’s just interesting and something about the way she stood up to father makes me think she’s going to do something stupid and reckless and I really just want to remember it. I want to feel it all.

The point is, we have to kiss. This isn’t just a business deal, because we’re expected to get intimate. We’re expected to stick my parts into her parts and make a fucking baby.

But the point is, I got stupid drunk last night because I couldn’t figure out what kind of kiss to give her. It’s not like I even want to kiss her. But if I don’t, or I do, what is then outcome? If I kiss her like she’s repulsive, she’ll likely hex my balls off.

If I kiss her like I want to fuck her, like I want to consummate this, she will likely still hex my bullocks off.

And I don’t. Really, I don’t.

It’s just that, she has the greatest set of tits I’ve ever seen wrapped inside of fabric.

The potions tastes like pepper up with a kick of something tart. And my tongue tingles just as the door to the room opens.

Granger is dressed in a white dress. Her shoulders are bare and the dress is simple, like something you’d wear to an afternoon garden party and her hair is pulled back with intricate braids that meet at the back of her head but the rest of her hair is down and wild and she feels like the falls of Asaranca during summer. It’s Warm and wild but there’s a cool steady mist blowing in your face.

Trust me, I know.

But, behind Granger, there’s Harry Potter and there’s Ginny Weasley. And there’s Ronald Fucking Weasley.

Ronald Weasley is as freckly as ever, but that’s not why I hate him. Freckles don’t bother me. He’s combed up and dressed in a suit that actually looks new and fits his big gangly body, but that isn’t why I hate him, either. I don’t even hate his copper colored hair. Copper has its appeal.

The point is, just the mere presence of him grates at my nerves.

It’s like being lit on fire and being able to do nothing about it. Your blood is boiling and it feels like your skin is tightening around your temples but really it’s just your nerves getting frayed and there’s nothing you can do.

And the point is, that when Granger steps into the room, his hand moves to the small of her back and I can feel the possession in his touch, even from here I’m standing.

And the point is, I’d rather die than have my wife be something Ronald Weasley feels like he owns.

The room fills with the tension that spreads and reaches out for all eight of us. It’s threading itself into our skin and through the fibers of our muscles until it settles deep into the gut or carves itself out a little space in our chest.

There isn’t enough room in there for my heart and my lungs and all of that tension.

Because it’s pounding and my lungs are contracting over and over and Granger is looking at me from across the room like she’s just seen life on the moon. She takes her big dumb eyes and shines them on me like I’m that thing she lost years ago, and totally forgot all about it until this moment.

Until she’d stumbled upon it like we stumbled upon it in the middle of looking for something else. And now she can’t remember what she was looking before she found me.

And the point is, it’s unnerving. The look of this witch with her lips parting and her eyes glimmering, it’s too much. Because she’s about to give herself to me, and I’m going to pull her into my life and into my chest and lock her in there. I’ll have to protect her from everyone,even my father. I’ll have to care for her and we don’t even like each other.

My magic is buzzing and my heart is pounding and Theo is nudging his shoulder into mine, telling me to calm down.

“Either the potion’s kicked in, or you’re very excited to see your bride to be,” Theo says and when drag my eyes away from Granger, he’s pointedly looking at my nose. There’s steam pouring out of my nostrils and my ears and I can feel it wafting up my throat as I step away from the wall to greet my bride. But, I cough and puff out a cloud of tart flavored smoke.

Grangers face lights up in a way I’ve never seen before.

Her lips quirk and her eyes latch onto mine and then she smiles. She’s smiling at me like she can’t help it. Like the smoke and my nerves are all something precious and I feel like I’m being bolted to the floor. I can’t move and the best of my heart increases and so I just stare.

I stare and staresndstareandstare. I can’t stop staring at the way her lips lift and show the row of pearl like teeth, the slight sliver of her top gum.

“Ahem,” father clears his throat and the spell is broken. The mudbloods magic fizzes out and her smile transforms into something cruel and bitter as she looks to look at my father.

The tension thickens as the Marriage Commissioner enters behind Grangers gang of Gryffindors.

“Are we all ready?”

The little room is bursting with flowers and tension and the nine of us.

Nobody is ready. We’re all fidgeting and on edge.

Potter is shifting from foot to foot as he squeezes onto the hand of Ginny Weasley. She’s narrowing her eyes on me, a brow lifted like she’s sure I’m about to take a shit on the entire thing. Theo is fiddling with his bow tie and I don’t know why he’s nervous. He thought the entire idea of me and Granger getting married is hilarious.

But now he’s adjusting his tie and shaking his hair from his face and staring at my parents like they might do something.

Mothers just wringing her fingers together and watching Granger with something like wonder filling her blue eyes, rounding them out and lifting her brows.

Father is scowling as he watches everyone step into place.

I step up to the little alter that is on the far east side of the room. The commissioner stands at the podium.

Theo and my parents line up on one side. Potter and the Weasleys on the other.

Granger steps up to the podium and then all of the eyes in the room are on me.

They’re poking and prodding. They’re waiting and predicting.

Because what will Draco do?

Something stupid, his fathers eyes say. Theos eyes are begging me to be reckless.

Harry thinks I’m going to do something to hurt Granger.

Ron Weasley is telling me to run away. His eyes are gobbling up his golden princess and he’s begging me to give her back, give her back.

Granger barely looks over her shoulder, and her eyes don’t land on me. I don’t know what Granger wants.

But I step up beside her and her shoulder brushes against my arm and my headache is gone but in its place, my heart has spread into my throat and into my head. I can feel and hear it in every part of my body.

The commissioner doesn’t drag it out. It’s like ripping off a bandage. It’s better to just get it over with, don’t prolong the pain. Just pinch the edges and pull.

And before I know it, I’m turning to face Granger and she’s turning to look up at me and there’s a ring shoved into my hand. I slide it onto her little fingers that look like they belong between my teeth and I’m promising to care for her and protect her. I’m promising to love her and she’s doing the same and isn’t that some shit.

Were promising to do something that we had no choice in. They’re forcing us together and now they’re making us swear to love each other when we never got the chance to figure it out on our own. And we don’t. We don’t love each other. We hate each other but now we’re going to love each other for the rest of our lives.

You may now kiss the bride.

The words crack into my mind like a whip. I’m jolted back into a moment I can never forget because I’m not being dulled down by the potions my father encouraged me to take. And this is why I drank last night.

Because I’m forced to make a decision that neither of us wants to make.

I clear my throat and I can see Granger swallow as her eyes flick to her friends, to the commission, who nods encouragingly.

She looks to my parents and to Theo.

I lean forward and I have to bend my knees so that I can lower myself to her height and gently place my lips against hers.

I settled on a respectful, closed lipped kiss.

Her lips are soft and firm and warm. There’s a spark of magic that dances against my mouth and I gasp. I gasp and make to pull away.

But Grangers hands suddenly clasp over the back of my neck as she lifts up onto the tips of her toes and deepens the kiss. She takes advantage shock forces her tongue into my mouth and, I think I’m falling.

The point is, my hands hold onto her, grasping at her face and her waist and I’m falling. I’m falling into Granger and she takes me, catches me and devours me.

The kiss is wild and it’s inappropriate but I think I’m cursed because I can’t stop kissing her back. I can’t stop slanting and molding my mouth to hers. I can’t stop letting her massage my tongue with hers I can’t stop her little fingers from gripping onto my neck or from finding their way into the little hairs at the nape of my neck.

I can’t stop the way my fingers press into the fabric of her dress like I might rip into it. I can’t stop the way I, forcing her body to crowd into mine.

The kiss is like a dance that is synchronized and well practiced, like we’ve been doing it forever.

Someone clears their throat and Granger slows the kiss down, kissing me once, twice, three times before she pulls away with my eyes still closed.

She pulls away and when I open my eyes, she sends a smirk at my father and the point is, I can’t care.

The point is, that ancient beast that was a part of me is now a part of her and something wild and frenzied is suddenly brewing right here. Here in this space between her body and mine, my mind and hers The point is, it’s here to stay and the point is, I can’t stop this, even if I tried.

Trust me, I know.

[filthypen]

Why do people think NNN is a boy only thing~? Kaede is sure gonna try it~! And since she’s only human she allows herself a rule that at strict maximum she can grope shuichi’s booty! How long will she resist before breaking her rules then NNN~?

Unlike others like Kokichi, Kaede was DETERMINED to survive this whole month! She was ready, she ditched all her porn on her laptop and pc, manga, magazines... hell, she even made sure to not look much at any girl just in case! She thought she had all going according to plan... but there was one obvious, impossible to ignore, HUGE problem... her roommate, Shuichi, specifically his MEGA SIZED FEMBOY CLAPPERS~ It was just too hard to not see it, it was just so... MASSIVE, even if her wears super tight pants... is just riduculously big~ But Kaede was strong, she wasn't going to lose for some fat booty boy! Everytime she felt the urges to just CUM ON THE SPOT, she quickly goes to him and gropes him as HARD as she can (Often, making Shuichi cum in a messy manner~) All was good, she was going flawlessly for 2 weeks, she had it easy... until one morning, while dressing herself (struggling because of her FAT GIANT COW TITS), she saw Shuichi getting out the shower , naked~ ''K-Kaede... please remind K-Kirumi to give us t-towels, we ran out...'' The meek detective said, blushing hard and facing awy from her to not reveal his parts... but not realising he was giving a full view of his FULL, JUICY, ENORMOUS FEMBOY CUTE ASS~ In less than a second, Kaede stood up and GROPED him harder than ever, breathing heavily ''H-hey Shuichiiiiiiii~ W-what did you said?~'' Kaede was trying to not salivate much as she was fondling that CAKE~ Shuichi yelped, trying to get away her hands from him, but just making his ass CLAP CLAP loudly ''K-Kaede!! W-we are g-gonna be late- AAAHHH~~'' Before he could finish the sentence, Kaede spanked him, now using both hands to groped and fondle ''W-well Shuichiiii~ Today i feel soooo sick... i have been r-resisting so much it just HURTS, so... would you help me and let this...'' She went closer to him, her fingers diving deeper into his booty meat, until her lips were close to his ears ''...our little secret of the month?~'' After hearing her sweet, sexy voice, Shuichi just came buckets... as he let himself fully be groped, Kaede could just smile sweetly, with a bit of tease... is not losing NNN if she doesn't make herself cum with her own hands, right?~

[stevenbasic]

GITJ Post 349: That was Then, This is Now, p1

“Mmmmph! M-Morgan!! Pl-please!” I sputtered, head buried deep in the big bosom of my new Hungarian APRN. My arms were straightened stock-stiff at my sides.

“Oh, Dr. J, do the relax!” the enormous blond woman laughed, mirth jiggling through her mighty chest as she hugged me tightly. She nearly had me pulled off my feet as I stood there in my office that Monday morning, her strong arms encircling my head, shoulders and upper back. I’d been waiting for my coff-…my m-…my warm morning beverage and the meeting Melissa had wanted to have but had been summarily assaulted - this counted as the twelfth one - by the “Good Morning Hugs” of my staff as they’d come one-by-one to greet me. New office policy, it had been announced, I guess: Dr. J gets a hug every morning, from everyone. 

Julia had been here with hugs, Bobbi and Brittni and Bianca and Bessie as well, all thanking me for such a fun weekend and being so cool and nice to them on Instagram. Wait what? Shanette had come early and lingered long, feeling especially soft and had purred motherly greetings. Katarina had, with a peculiar giggle, offered to fill my mug if I’d been waiting too long for Melissa to appear with my warm milk. Josie didn’t stop at a hug and gave me kisses, while Randi and Katie had each started flat-out making out with me. Angie nearly had me out of my pants and it was only Aubrey showing up for her hug that saved me from an early-morning, non-consensual handjob. Lakshmi had left just a few minutes ago, after helping me clean the lipstick of all these other from my face and finally showing me on her phone what all the girls is had been mysteriously hinting at and talking about: the Instagram posts made to my account after my own phone had been hijacked on Saturday night, before its demise at the bottom of Melissa’s pool. Good god! I remembered so little of the weekend, had I really been a part of all this…this…debauchery?

What a way to start a week!

“I hear you have the exciting weekend,” Morgan was now purring to me, her basso profundo rumbling through her chest as she held me captive at her monumental breast. “Morgan sorry she not there, she the busy. But happy you have the good time. Many orgasm, I can know!” 

At that, she released my face from the depths of her bosom and - god help me - held me out at arms reach. My feet were six inches off the floor! My mouth gaped: Morgan was huge! Enormous! Maybe not quite as tall as Melissa but probably outweighing her by sixty pounds, at least. Jesus Christ the size of her! Yes, whatever my mystery affliction was had been reducing my stature (I really have to get this checked out…) and changing my perspective, and I knew Morgan was a big lady, but - holy crap! What had happened to her?!? I’d seen her just last Friday, working with patients, and she was nowhere near this size, was she?? She was a house! Thick curves threatened to burst forth from her stretchy pants and overmatched, overstretched blouse whose buttons seemed ready to -

“Haha button go pop,” she laughed as - yes - the top button of her blouse flew past my face.

My eyes just goggled as her cleavage bulged forth and then, slowly, she began to lift me up, up, up until we were eye level. Good god this woman wasn’t only huge, but hugely strong!

“Because you, the breasts of me are so bigger now,” she said, cryptically, “Tell me, what the happen? What you do on the weekend?”

Oh my god what did happen this weekend?

I remember, of course, getting in a little late this Monday morning with Melissa driving me to work. I’d stayed the night, again, the third in a row at her place. She’d helped me get ready and had clothes for me - these new, XXS unisex scrubs she’d found at the mall. I normally didn’t like wearing scrubs at the office as it made me look, well…like the rest of the staff, the medical assistants. But today I had little choice. So while this morning’s memories were clear as day, the day before, however, was a little fuzzier. Though with a little effort I pretty much recalled the whole thing.

“Um,” I told Morgan, as she held me aloft like a rag doll, “M-Melissa and I just sort of relaxed yesterday…”

Of the events of the weekend, Sunday afternoon’s were clearest in my mind. It had turned out to be a lazy day of napping in and out and cuddling on the couch. Melissa spent it pampering me, barely letting me lift a finger, keeping me couchbound in her arms, or pinned underneath her, or with her head in my lap. She’d apparently wanted to spend most of the day in penis worship, and wanted me also adulating her breasts. It was Sunday, after all. Time for church. And so we honored the occasion with either me sucking on her or by her sucking on me ‘like a piece of candy’, tending to the every whim of the insatiable beast between my legs, barely letting it leave her mouth for hours on end. I don’t know how many times her skilled lips, tongue and throat had brought me to climax there on the couch - it was a lot. But it was right before the dinner of Mac n Cheese she’d made for me that I finally had to stop her. I was sore, I was actually really sore, my balls tender and shaft raw from so much overuse this weekend, a sex marathon that did a number on my privates. She’d cooed and clucked in amused pity, offering ointments and creams 'to make it all better', but they only served to get me ready for another round in her mouth or tender grip. It was finally with a laying-on-of-hands, a strange cooling sensation that her palms brought my groin with no liniments or salves, that in the end miraculously healed my pain. Had she done something like that before? On…Saturday night, to a bruise on my neck? I was a little weirded out, as that moment brought back flashes of other memories. Was I just imagining some of these things? I remember her, and the other girls doing…stuff. Like, I knew Melissa was really strong, but there was no way she used her breath to blow me across the pool, was there?

“I heard you almost the drownded,” Morgan said, watching my face as I continued to try to recall the weekend. 

“Who? Me? Oh, um…”

Yes, I had woken Sunday morning and found my busted phone. Did I get it from the bottom of the pool? Or was that Melissa? Wait, did she actually save me from, like, almost drowning? I shivered, recalling it now. Yes, I felt it again - the fear, the near-death experience at the bottom of the deep-end and then suddenly being safe in her arms. Anyway, I remembered intimacy with Melissa in the pool, in the shower, at breakfast. Jeez we were horndogs!

“...yeah, I uh, had a little accident Sunday morning,” I admitted to Morgan, “but it was a f-fun little party the night before. Too b-bad you couldn’t come.”

Saturday was, for sure, more of a blur. There were girls over at Melissa’s, lots of them. I must have been drinking that afternoon because I barely remember that time at all. Later on into the evening I recall a little more - time in the hot tub? Sushi for dinner was it? A movie, some warm milk? Bedtime was more easy to recollect, with Shanette sharing the bed with Melissa and me for a while. 

“Sound so the fun,” Morgan smiled, the twinkle in her eyes telling me she knew more than she was saying. 

“Yeah,” I agreed. Realizing now why I already felt so exhausted: I had the sex lives of twenty men. Yes, I’d slept like a rock last night, after Melissa had taken me to her bed and put me under by humming sweet lullabies that reverberated throughout my cock, hips and spine to settle in my mind and rock it to sleep. But I felt like I’d need to sleep another week to recover from what I’d been through. I hadn’t even stepped through the door of my apartment upstairs this morning, having come straight into the office, and I was already looking forward to collapsing in my bed tonight. 

But first I needed to get through today. Still held aloft by the shoulders in Morgan’s strong hands, I was reminded of that by a knock on the door. Melissa, maybe, I hoped? We both turned to see who it’d be.

Aubrey, peeking around the doorframe. Back for more hugs? Apparently not. 

“Gianna needs to talk to you,” she said. 

===================================

thanks to RiF for editing help

[faghubby]

FAIRY GODMOTHER. MAKING ALL YOUR DREAMS COME TRUE

"Paul come watch this" Amber said as I plopped down next to her. She hit play on her phone. I was surprised as it was porn. Amber snuggled close her hand rubbing my quickly growing erection. I was so surprised I had not even realized I had watched it before.

"His cock is enormous" Amber commented "is that what you like about it?" She asked. Her hand now inside my pants. She switched the video. This one I recognized immediately as she jerked me off. A black man was fucking a petite white girl.

"Must be the big cocks" she teased I went to comment when she switched again. This one was her getting railed by her ex boyfriend. "This one was your favorite" she told me. I had found it on an old phone of hers and downloaded I had watched it hundreds of times. I wanted to cum but she stopped.

"You jerk off to this don't you?" She asked annoyed. I was caught no point in denying it.

"Yes, it is just so hot" I told her wishing she would continue stroking me.

"This was a bit wierd when I found it, but this one" she switched again to a video of a man being called a bitch while he watched his girlfriend get seduced by another guy. I couldn't even look at her but my dick was throbbing.

"And then" she switched videos again this one a girl lowered herself onto her boyfriends face making him lick her cum filled pussy clean.

"My pussy is full of cum right now" she whispered. She stood and lifted her dress she wore no panties as she pushed me back on the couch she lowered herself to my waiting tounge. I sucked and licked her pussy.

"There is no cum in there, but you didn't even hesitate" she teased as she rode my face. Soon she was moaning and grinding against my tounge. She came hard and rolled off actually hitting the floor. I jumped up sto see if she was okay. My pants fell around my ankles my dick still throbbing.

Amber looked at me from the floor.

"You are so much smaller then George is" Amber said like she just realized it. I started to jerk off. As she laid on the floor below me.

"That's right play with your little peepee" Amber teased. She had never said anything like thst before but I came instantly from it. As my cum landed on her stomach.

"Is that it? Not very much guess those little balls don't hold much either" Amber said. I was now ashamed and wanted to get dressed.

Amber had me help her up first and scoop up a glob of my cum.

"Want this?" She asked holding it up to my lips. I shook my head pulled up my pants and almost ran out of the room. Amber left me alone the rest of the day. Although she seemed concerned. I couldn't even look at her. Even choosing to sleep on the couch. Amber woke me I. The morning by sucking my dick. As I woke she stopped.

"Paul I'm sorry about yesterday I didn't mean to upset you" she said. I pulled her up to sit next to me ignoring. That she had not finished but she never did. She would suck me for alittle bit then let me fuck her. I had never finished in her mouth.

"Babe it is not you, I was just" I started to cry. Amber held me I came to rest my head against her breast. She wore just a loose tee shirt and her nipple had popped out. I started to suck her nipple. And I calmed down as she just held me li,e a mother would as I sucked her nipple.

In soft tones she just held me and spoke

"I was trying to let you play out your fantasy is all honey, I didn't think it would upset you. She started to stroke my cock. As she held me in her arms.

"You like this game though don't you" she said I nodded never letting go of her nipple.

"We can play it some more you can go at you pace" she assured me. I came all over her hand. She pulled her nipple away and rubbed my cum on it. As I watched. I leaned back and licked it clean. She just held me there for a few more minutes before I got up.

"You aren't mad at me?" I asked barely above a whisper.

"No sweety, I love you" she said kissing me. It was several days later that we spoke about any of it again.

We where in bed my head buried between her legs as I licked and sucked kissed and nibbled on her engorged pussy lips.

"Yes, ohGod. Imagine how much you would love it if you where sucking up my lovers cum right now. She moaned. As soon as she said it she stiffened alittle in a panic. But it spurred me on till I made her cum.

"I didn't mean, I mean it was just so hot" she tried to explain.

"Amber, I " but I couldn't finish. She pulled me to her and I slid my cock into her wet pussy. I lasted only a minute before I came. We held each other then as usual got up to clean up. When Amber came back I handed her my phone.

"I want you to read my daily journal" I told her.

"Okay, why baby" she asked

"I can't express, just read it please" I asked.

"I will but not tonight" she kissed me and we held each other. In the morning I sent her a link to my online journal. To read at her leasure.

Amber had not mentioned it at all for days. I didn't even know if she had started to. I had written init everyday for years. Till she came home from shopping on Saturday.

"Paulie, could you come in here" she called from the bedroom. As I entered I she held up a pair of panties and a girls undershirt.

"I hope they fit I got the biggest size" Amber smiled. I turned bright red. I had figured she would have read the journal from the last year prehaps but she had started from the beginning. I had written how my cousin had made me wear her underwear and how I got so excited I came in them when I was 14. I had described them in detail. And now before me Amber held what seemed to be the identical ones.

Simple light pink cotton briefs. With little darker pink flowers and a bow on the thin lace border. With a matching tee shirt.

"Come on put it on" she told me. I undressed and slid them on. My 5'6" slender frame. these girls underwear fit perfectly. Amber slid on the tee short as well.

"Just like a little girl" she teased rubbing me thru the panties. As she pinched my nipple I breathed sharply.

"Don't worry if you make a mess, I bought you more" she said and I came in the panties. Again I was flush with embarrassment and wanted to cry. Amber held me.

"I know, it's okay. I read how the boys teased you. So you played with the girls wishing you could be a girl" she said softly. "You can be my little girl whenever you want" she told me. Wipping my eyes. She cleaned me up and gave me a new pair of panties this one had a matching training bra. I put it on. And we painted each other's toes.

"I'm not gay" I said at one point.

"I know baby" Amber reassured me.that night Amber held me against her chest and then pulled out her tit and stuffed in my mouth I fell asleep sucking on her nipple.i woke in the morning excited. Amber was still asleep. Amber had not freaked out about the panties she had encouraged it. I kept them on and went and made her breakfast in bed. I screwed it up and set off the smoke detector. Amber rushed out and assured me it was okay. She just smacked my ass alittle.

"I read some more things you wrote in that journal" she cooed leading me back to bed. She turned on the video of her getting fucked by her ex. This time on the TV.

"See how he is able to fuck me from behind real good because his dick is so long?" She pointed out. As she stroked my hair.

"Do you wish you had a big cock?" She teased.

"It wouldn't fit in your panties if you did?" My head was resting in her lap. She just stroked my head as I watched.

"Watch how much he comes" she said. "I used to swallow all of it for him. Have I ever swallowed yours?" When it ended she put on a girl on girl video.

"We can be more like this if you like" she teased my nipplles. I was so horny I wanted to flip her over and fuck her but I just laid there.

"I read how in high school Linda? That was her name right. How she cheated on you with her best friend boyfriend. And that you where actually just a beard so her friend wouldn't suspect. Did she ever let you fuck her?" Amber asked already knowing the answer.

"No, she let me lick her though" I said ashamed

"Would you like it if I did the same?" Her hand now running over my stomach. I didn't answer

"I could cuckold you like she did. Even let you eat my messy pussy after like in your dirty porn. Maybe even get you some sexy panties. Or do you prefer these little girl ones?" Amber continued I wanted to exploded and she had not even touched my dick.

"You are too excited" Amber said she popped her tit in my mouth. This seems to calm you down. Like a little girl. I sucked on her nipple and curled into her lap. She rubbed the precum leaking thru my panties and had me suck it off her fingers. Amber had me get her vibrator from her drawer and come back to bed. She removed her panties and had me fuck her with it as I licked her clit.

"Yes you will be my lesbian husband" she moaned as she came all over my face. Amber had me wear my panties and training bra the rest of the day. That evening she went to take a bath. I had to use the bathroom. She wash shaving her legs when I came in.

"Would you like me to shave your legs" she asked.

"What would I tell people?" I asked.

"That's not what I asked, let me worry you get to worked up. Would you like to try it?" She asked. I didn't answer just stripped and joined in the tub. I was hard not having cum this morning. As Amber showed me how to shave my legs. It took forever.amber had gotten out. The water was cold which helped with my erection. As Amber continued. She didn't stop till my legs where smooth then she shaved my pubic hair as well leaving a little heart above my penis.

"Might as well do your butt as well" she told me as I was on my hands and knees in the cold water. As she was about finished she slid her soapy fingers against my hole then pushed them in.

"Ohhhhh" I squealed.

"Shhh, ever girl has to lose their virginity some time." She worked her finger slid in and out.

"The first time I let a man have my ass, it hurt so much. But by the second or third time I was begging for it" Amber told me, I had never fucked her ass she had never made any indication she wanted me to. Yet she was fucking mine with her fingers. She then removed her fingers.

"Why don't you finish" pointing to the little hair I had on my chest and pits. As she got up and left me alone. I was caught up in it all and shaved the rest of my hair.

To be continued.

[bevswashere]

Koi No Yokan

Chapter 24: Special Grades

August 2007 4 months later.

"Reversed curse technique: voiding."

Shoko's bisected a number of test bodies for me. The skin begins to mend, wounds appearing to heal as time is reversed. My hands are already trembling, though. I can't breathe. Tracing a simple circle into the air is incredibly difficult. There's a powerful resistance I can't see. "One more," I beg myself, but the strain is so great that it hurts. Like skin turning raw in the cold, despite the blazing sun above us.

I lose control again. The previously steady stream of cursed energy ruptures out aimlessly, slicing the corpse into more than two pieces. I keel over onto my knees, crimson flecking into the dirt.

"You're overdoing it," Shoko says.

"She's right, Kaede-chan." Suguru's shoes arrive beneath my gaze. "Why go through all this trouble? Even if you reverse time on these bodies, there's no soul to bring them back to life."

I'm panting. "Once I figure this out, I can learn how to heal more than just test dummies."

"You're more likely to burn out before ever getting to that point," Shoko says plainly. "It's possibly you've hit your limit—"

"No!" Suguru is taken aback, but Shoko remains steady. I think she already knows I have no intentions of giving up. "I have to do this. I have to get stronger."

"You're already immeasurably strong."

"It's not enough."

Suguru's amber eyes try to study my desperation, the deep seeded fear beneath my skin. "Who are you doing this for?"

He's unaware of the promise I made a year ago, upon which everything depends. To think that days prior we had the intention of running away. I think back to that plan often, wondering what could have been. Had we gone through with it, though, I wouldn't have Satoru. "Don't tell anyone the experiment failed today." I pinch my nose to slow the blood flow. "We'll try again in a few days."

In the nearest bathroom, I clean the blood from my face. My complexion is leached of color, the darkness beneath my eyes more prominent than before.

It's hard to imagine I used to be considered the strongest. With the progress Satoru's made in such a short span of time, it's hard to remember any of us were considered strong at all. Only yesterday, he solidified automatic selection of targets. Before that, leaving his technique on at all times. With Reverse Cursed Technique constantly providing him a fresh palette, he'll never burn out the way I do. It won't be long before he figures out Domain Expansion or lost distance teleportation—the last two attributes I hold over him. If anything, he expects me to teach him. That was the point of our promise, wasn't it, to help one another get strong? I don't think Satoru realizes, though, how far behind he's left me.

The sole echo of my footsteps is joined by the rapid tread of another. The enormous clatter of my back against a vending machine follows. The glass chills me from behind, but my front is coated in an immense layer of warmth. Satoru seals his lips against mine fervently, kissing me as if he'd been restrained for years. His hand slips beneath the fabric of my top, pulling the edge of my bra up to take my bare breast into his hand. In pace with the kiss, his fingers begin to massage my skin.

I break away. "Didn't you get enough this morning?"

"You think I could ever get enough of you?" His lips travel down to my neck, sucking harshly to make bruises Shoko will have to heal. His fingers continue kneading my chest.

A voice I don't recognize travels down the hall. "Well, what do we have here?"

Satoru pauses, "We're busy," before his mouth and hands brazenly resume.

"That's a shame. I was looking for you two."

He leaves hardly any room for me to turn my head. When I do, I make out a tall woman with strong features. It's embarrassing to see her blatantly watching, but I know Satoru enjoys it. He likes being able to act as if we can do whatever, whenever, we pleased. It makes us seem powerful—made him feel powerful.

"If you want to watch," his voice vibrates into my throat, "At least be quiet."

"Even if I wanted to speak with my fellow special grades?"

Satoru stops immediately, and pulls his hand out from my shirt. "Special grade?"

The blonde's thumb proudly points in her direction. "Tsumoko Yuki."

The name registers in my mind. Tsumoko Yuki, the first special grade of our generation.

"What's with the sour look, Uematsu-san? You should have seen how excited I was to learn a new special grade came around, and a young girl too! I've been dying to meet you."

"Then where have you been?" I know the answer already: loafing around abroad instead of accepting any sort of mission. Frankly, I couldn't tell whether the idea of Tsumoko Yuki fascinates or disgusts me. How many more could have been saved if she weren't so determined to go her own path? How much peace does hse feel taking a step away?

"I've had a mission of my own," she says. "Research to create a world without curses."

"A world without curses?" Satoru scoffs. "And how do you think you'll do that?"

"There's two possibilities." She holds her fingers up. "One, you eliminate cursed energy. Two, you teach everyone to harness their own cursed energy."

"And how has that research gone for you so far?"

To this, Tsumoko frowns, which tells us she knows nothing beyond idealistic theories. "I've learned a lot, believe it or not. There's tons of possibilities if the higher-ups would bother to acknowledge them, instead of running things the way they do now."

"I thought there were only 'two' possibilities," I say. I've made my decision, she disgusts me. While charismatic and charming, Tsumoko claims to help a cause she puts no real effort towards. The way I see it, the world we live in will never allow the elimination of cursed energy or non-sorcerers, so, "Why waste your time fighting nature, when you could just help innocent people?"

"Those innocent people are the source of curses in the first place," she states matter-of-factly. "Jujutsu hardly give off any negative energy. The rest of the population—"

"Could spend their entire lives trying to learn how to harness Jujutsu, but they can't. I've seen them try."

"It's a working science," Tsumoko shrugs. "Anyway, I didn't come here to argue. In fact, I hope all four of us can get along as special grades. Geto-san was quite an interesting brain to pick." She laughs to herself. "I was going to ask you what your type is, Gojo-san, but I think I've already discovered the answer. You make a handsome pair."

Tsumoko begins to walk away, but turns back at the last second, "Oh, right, one thing. You don't need to worry about the Star Plasma Vessel." I feel my limbs tense at the mere mention of it. "Either there was already another Star Plasma Vessel at the time, or a new Star Plasma Vessel has already been born. Either way, Tengen is stable."

Right, Tengen's stable, that's what matters.

Satoru reaches for my waist once Tsumoko is gone. "I can't believe I stopped for that."

"Apparently Suguru already spoke with her," I say, "I wonder what he makes of all of that."

"Probably thinks it's bullshit too." He laughs. "A world with no cursed energy. Before you know it pigs will start flying."

[bish-plz-haha]

Trouble Is...

I'm back on my Maze Runner bullshit (not sorry about it). I've had this fanfic sitting in my phone notes for so long. Its like halfway done.

Take a peek, tell me what you think? Should I post it and continue writing it?

Thomas sat in the circle, giddy with excitement and adrenaline as the kids played truth or dare. They had moved to a quieter room of the enormous house to get away from the music a little to hear one another. They were all on the verge of drunk or actually completely drunk. Thomas had had a few drinks but he knew he could remember everything come morning. Not that he was complaining.

Minho knew how to throw a party. And with his parents working a lot, out on business trips, his parties were frequent and usually the most talked about event of any given week. But with school about to start back up again, the parties would become less frequent, per the usual. Thomas was going to be a senior this year, just like most of his friends. This was the last summer party he would be attending during his high school career.

"Thomas," someone blurted. Thomas hummed. This was his fifth time being called on since they started the game an hour ago. So far he had stripped down to his underwear to give the group a show, skinny dipped in the pool, admitted which of his friends he'd had a sexual fantasy about, and put three ice cubes down his pants and waited for them to melt. "Truth or dare."

Thomas contemplated his answer. He knew he would probably head home after his turn this time. Truth can be a boring way to end a party. But dare could be embarrassing - he'd already done several dares. Thomas hoped that if he did pick dare and the girl that called on him gave him an embarrassing dare, no one would remember it due to the drunken state most of these kids were in. But he also didnt want to end this party, the last summer party of his high school career, without a bang. "Dare." He finally said enthusiastically with a smile on his face.

Everyone around him giggled and smiled. The girl who was giving out his dare sat in silence for a moment. The music that blared in the main rooms of the house playing distantly in the background of the shut off room. "I dare you to..." she paused as the girl next to her whispered in her ear. "Okay," she smiled widely, mischievously, at him, "I dare you to make a nerd fall in love with you before the end of the year. But once they do fall in love with you, you have to break up with them. Any nerd of your choosing." She slurred her words a little but not enough that Thomas couldnt understand her. Everyone in the room gasped, looking to Thomas. Most were swaying in their seats due to their intoxicated states.

Thomas gulped. He wasn't one to go willy nilly hurting peoples feelings. Him and Minho were known as one night stand guys. Everyone they got with knew to expect nothing more except sex. But he also knew that he wouldn't be seeing any of these people again after graduation. Most of these kids - at the party and otherwise - aren't really his friends. So, with a less than enthusiastic nod and a slight 'okay,' Thomas agreed to the dare. He silently hoped that none of the people in this circle of about thirty remembered his dare by the start of the school year in less than four days. And with his dare complete - a verbal agreement made with his fellow students to start the dare once the school year began in a few days - he excused himself. He said goodbye to his friends and made his way home.

[voraciousvore]

The Half-Blood Giant (38/51)

***Contains soft, safe, unwilling vore***

Chapter 38: Unhealthy Obsession

Hannah was worried. Hector was supposed to meet her after school, like he always did, but he never showed up. She couldn’t locate him in the cafeteria, or anywhere else for that matter, nor would he answer his phone. Hector wasn’t the type to ignore her or play petty games, even if she had upset him for some inscrutable reason. She sensed, deep down, that something was wrong. When she biked over to the boy’s dormitory on the other side of campus, he wasn’t there either. None of the boys had seen him since class ended. 

Hannah didn’t sleep well that night. She kept checking her phone periodically, hoping for a text or call. There was nothing. She decided, if he didn’t show up for breakfast tomorrow morning, she would go straight to Principal Henderson and report him missing. She couldn’t think of any other place he would be. If he had gone home, or there had been some sort of emergency, she figured he would’ve at least contacted her to let her know what happened.  

The morning came, and she woke up cranky and groggy. She rolled out of bed, donned her uniform, and packed up her school supplies in her bag. Labored with fatigue, Hannah pulled her bike from the rack outside and crawled on, then slowly pedaled forward. She hardly paid any attention to her surroundings as she went into autopilot, thinking about her beloved. She was entirely unaware of the sinister colossus stalking her, following her intoxicating scent, ready to strike. 

The world unexpectedly went dark as a shadow blocked out the light of the rising sun. Hannah almost toppled off her bike as she halted in place and the ground swooped away below her. The rapid ascension into the sky was dizzying; she held onto her handlebars with a death grip, her knuckles white from tension. Her sides were pinched by the enormous tips of two giant fingers and she was forcibly ripped from her bike, her strength no match for the giant who grabbed her. She gasped from the pressure on her torso, almost breathless. She plopped into the landscape of a massive hand and her bike was scooped up into the fingers of the other hand, disappearing from her sight. 

Hannah, panting for breath, slowly turned around to face the giant who snatched her. Her worst fears were confirmed when she saw Hunter’s mountainous visage leering down at her. He grinned, revealing a wall of blocky white teeth. Hannah quivered and scooted back into the arch of his fingers, but she had nowhere to go. 

“Hi there,” Hunter rumbled, releasing a puff of warm breath over her that ruffled her hair. 

“W-what do you want?” Hannah stammered. “Make it quick.” 

Hunter regarded her for a long, uncomfortable moment without speaking. He brushed her tenderly with his thumb, making her flinch. “Hector wanted me to pass on a message,” he lied. Hannah’s demeanor changed on a dime as she jerked to attention with the surprising turn of events. “He said he’d meet you at the cafeteria. I’ll take you there.” 

“No need, I can bike there myself,” Hannah asserted, glancing around the platform of skin carrying her. Her bike was nowhere to be seen. 

“No. I’ll take you,” Hunter responded. He did not give her a choice. She relented, realizing she had no power in the situation. She didn’t want to raise a fuss and make the monster of a man angry. The sooner she was conveyed to Hector, the safer she’d feel, and the sooner she could get away from Hunter. 

“Hey, Hannah?” She didn’t want to talk to him, but being held mere feet from his expansive countenance, she couldn’t exactly ignore him. 

“What is it?” she asked listlessly, drooping into the curve of his fingers. His strides rocked her back and forth in his hand like a cradle. 

“Um...” A flicker of anxiety flickered across the giant’s features, barely distinguishable if not for the fact that he was so large. “I was just wondering... theoretically... if Hector wasn’t around anymore, would you ever consider... um... like... hanging out with me?” 

Hannah wasn’t sure how to answer without hurting his feelings, but she thought the question odd. “Hector isn’t going anywhere, so there’s no use speculating about a fictional scenario,” she reasoned, maintaining a neutral tone. 

“Ah.” Hunter seemed to deflate a bit, but Hannah was past the point of feeling empathy for him. As long as he didn’t hurt or threaten her, she didn’t particularly care about his volatile feelings. She just wanted him to be gone. 

Without warning, Hunter lifted his hand to his chest and dumped Hannah into his breast pocket. She tumbled down his palm into the pouch of soft fabric with a yelp. His shirt was stretched taut against the protruding muscles of his pectorals, squeezing Hannah slightly. 

“Hey!” she cried out, but he covered his pocket with his hand, squishing her softly with fingers as thick as tree trunks. Hannah went quiet as she recognized how insignificant she was, how easily he could smash her like an insect. His formidable mass was looming all around her, surrounding her. She suppressed her protests, hoping that she’d be reunited with her human lover soon. She just had to hold out a little longer. 

Hunter entered the cafeteria and got in line for his food. Hannah heard the loud cadence of voices and familiar sounds of the lunchroom and struggled to climb up the inside of the pocket. She peeked her head out of the top, searching for Hector. Hunter, perceiving her movements, shoved her back down with his finger. She cursed at him in response, but her small voice was lost in the roar of giant voices from her much larger peers. Hunter smirked as he collected his food. He grabbed himself a modest breakfast, much less than usual. His belly was still digesting the girl from this morning. 

He sat down in his usual secluded spot, where he could shield Hannah with his huge body and nobody would be able to see her. He reached into his pocket with his fingers, encircling the reluctant girl, and set her on the table, close to him in front of his tray. He placed his arms on either side of her like barriers so she couldn’t run away. Hannah shook with agitation as she gazed at the towering behemoth above her. 

“A-aren’t you going to take me to Hector?” she squeaked. 

“That can wait a moment,” Hunter boomed, waving his hand dismissively. He leaned down over Hannah, hunching his shoulders a bit and bringing his face in so he could be nearer to her. He brought his hands together and cupped them around her reverently. As he collapsed around her, Hannah lost her nerve and her legs buckled underneath her as if they had turned into globs of gelatin. 

“Hunter, you’re scaring me,” she whined. “Please, just let me see Hector.” 

“No.” The authoritarian word bludgeoned her harshly. She sank further under the giant’s impossible gravity. 

“W-what do you want from m-me? L-let’s get this over with already so I can go,” Hannah whimpered. Her eyes began to well up with tears. 

“I want you,” Hunter confessed, his deep voice resounding around her. “Your whole being, in your entirety. Forget Hector. Be with me instead.” 

Hannah was so shocked, she didn’t respond right away and just gaped at the giant dumbly. She scrambled to find words and choked out, “N-never!” 

Hunter’s green eyes flashed with baleful rage, and Hannah flinched at the terrifying sight. “So that’s how it’s going to be,” he snarled, baring his teeth. “Fine. I’ll give you some time to think it over. Perhaps you’ll come around.” Hannah didn’t get a chance to ponder the significance of his words before she was hoisted up by the back of her shirt. She squealed with fright as she was plopped into a thick, creamy substance. By the smell and taste, she realized with disgust that she was bathing in yogurt. 

Hunter grabbed a spoon and gleefully stirred her around in the yogurt, humming to himself. Hannah flailed and floundered, trying to grab the edges of the cup to pull herself out, but Hunter didn’t give her the chance. It all happened so fast, Hannah didn’t fully comprehend why Hunter would cover her in yogurt, until the plastic spoon dipped beneath her and lifted her out. Hannah fit neatly into the curved end, the perfect size for a bite of food. Horror exploded inside her as she found herself facing a titanic pair of lips. 

“No, Hunter, you wouldn’t...” Hannah gasped, appalled. She refused to believe it. He couldn’t possibly do... what she was thinking he was about to do. The lips turned up into a mocking grin, and separated to reveal wet, white teeth and ominous darkness beyond. Hunter’s gigantic tongue emerged, and the fleshy appendage dragged across her yogurt-covered body, from her toes to her forehead. Hannah recoiled and shrieked, throwing up her hands reflexively to protect herself. She felt the slimy bumps of his oversized taste buds slide across her palms. She was repulsed as a thick layer of saliva covered her body. 

“Mmmmmm,” Hunter hummed, licking his lips hungrily. “You taste even better than you smell. Just like a fresh-picked blueberry.” Hannah was speechless with raw terror. She froze up. She had no idea what to do, had no way to escape when she was hovering a deadly distance above the table. She didn’t have to do anything but be a delectable snack, however, as the giant mouth yawned open in front of her. She caught a glimpse of a fortress of huge teeth, a gaping gullet, and a mass of tongue and red flesh before the whole display encompassed her on all sides. The spoon slid out from beneath her, disappeared into the fresh air of freedom outside before the colossal jaws closed around her, sealing her fate.  

Hannah screamed, but nobody could hear her except the giant who was eating her. Oh God. He was eating her! She clawed at her fleshy, wet, bony prison and fought against the overwhelming power of the tongue as it flung her around and tasted her. She slammed against the molars, the roof of the mouth, the soft hot tissue beneath the tongue, as it rolled over her, toyed with her, smothered her. The yogurt dissolved off her body and she was soaked in filthy slobber instead. Her struggles were futile; she was helpless against the desires of the hungry mouth. 

Hunter savored her for a long time before he finally decided it was time to swallow her. Hannah cried out as the tongue beneath her reared up, and she slid down the slippery surface headfirst like a slide, toward the dark void of the gullet. She scrambled to grab something, anything, to halt her descent, but the mouth was streamlined for food, designed for her to be consumed. She even tried to grab his uvula, but it was too high above her to reach. Her head dropped down into the abyss of the throat, and the muscles crushed around her, forcing her down in a rippling wave. 

Hannah couldn’t move much as she strained against the unbearable pressure of the throat dragging her down. As she sank into the giant’s chest, his heartbeat banged loudly in her ears, the vibrations coursing through her entire frame. She could hear a tremendous amount of air swelling in his lungs, pressing into the flesh around her, before racing out with every exhale. She plummeted further, deeper into the giant’s core, farther away from freedom. She was done for. A heavy dread settled into her as she realized the terrible, agonizing end that faced her, her ultimate destination: the stomach. 

Her face was shoved into a ring of muscle, and she was forced through with a revolted grimace. She plunged into the giant’s stomach and splashed into a boiling pool of rancid fluids. Hyped up on adrenaline, she howled and thrashed, pounding the throbbing walls desperately. Her tiny fists and feet bounced harmlessly off the folds of stomach lining, failing to make the slightest dent. The stomach shifted around her, and she slipped and fell into a heap, sobbing. She hoped her inevitable death wouldn’t be too excruciating.  

A foreign object that was firm and solid bumped into her as it stirred in the acid. Hannah hesitantly touched it with her fingers in the pitch-black darkness, trying to distinguish what it was. It was long and hard, about half the length of her leg, with a big ball on the end sticking out at an angle. Hannah abruptly recognized the object with an abhorrence that made her physically ill and threw it away from her. It was a bone—a human femur. She wasn’t the first person that Hunter had ingested. She was swimming alongside the remains of at least one other half-digested human. Who else did he eat? Hannah didn’t ruminate much on the question in her panic, focusing instead on her immediate predicament. 

“Spare me, Hunter, please!” she screamed. She had no idea if he would hear her, or deign to respond, but to her surprise he actually answered. 

“Be quiet in there,” his bass voice resounded around her. “And maybe then I’ll let you out.” He paused before continuing, “I won’t digest you. I’ve cast a magic spell over you, to protect you. You’re precious to me, after all.” The stomach rumbled and groaned, as if complaining about being denied its prey. 

“Then why? Why did you eat me?” Hannah cried. 

“Because you’re mine now.” Despite the infernal heat, Hannah felt a cold chill at his words, uttered with such supercilious confidence. “I’ll do whatever I want with you. Protest, and I’ll kill you and Hector.” Hannah covered her mouth with horror. She didn’t want Hunter going after Hector; she’d do anything to protect him, even if that meant sacrificing herself. Her will to resist drained out of her and she slumped dejectedly into a squishy wall. She didn’t bother to get up, or yell. She realized how futile her efforts would be, when she was already eaten. 

The digestive organ churned and bubbled and grumbled noisily. She could hear the consistent rhythm of Hunter’s throbbing heart and lungs. She was sickened when bones, leftover clothing, and ambiguous soft chunks bobbing around in the gastric fluids collided with her. As Hunter finished eating his breakfast, mushy food squelched down through the esophageal opening above and splattered into the gurgling cavern. Hannah cringed and crawled around inside, trying to avoid the slop. She cried pitifully. She was in an unimaginable hell. 

Hunter glanced around the lunchroom, to make sure nobody had witnessed him devouring his classmate. Not a soul had noticed, the ignorant fools. He turned back to his breakfast and smiled to himself. Hannah tasted even better than he dared to imagine in his most honeyed fantasies. He could feel her small, comforting weight settled in his belly. He loved having her inside him. He wanted to keep her forever. He stroked his belly lovingly, kneading his fingers into the skin. He felt a mild guilt about what he did—eating her against her will and lying about Hector—but the emotion was superseded by how right he felt to have her within, how whole and alive and content he was. For once, he could even believe he was happy. 

Chapter 39

Chapter 1

[yeehawfolk]

Reddit's being a dick and won't let me post something I wrote about why I feel Zelda is still a princess, so here we fucking go, boys.

My thoughts were always that Zelda is a "Princess" in title only (I'm also of the mind that "Princess" in-universe is more of an honorary title when the newest Zelda incarnation shows up, so even if she were technically Queen she'd still be referred to as "Princess"), especially with this portrayal of her. The monarchy and kingdom were destroyed during the Calamity, and the various villages/towns/stables seem to be doing ok without it. There's no more guards; villagers protect each other and their towns with Link, now.

Lemme put this into perspective a bit.

Imagine you're a resident of Hyrule, right? You work at the stable association. Each is fairly far away from one another, but they keep abreast of the news via travellers that come and go. You've never left. You've lived here since you were born, and so has your father, and his before that. It's all you've ever known. One day, you receive a letter from your friend at the next stable over. They say to watch out for a strange traveler on the road; not for any nefarious reason. On the contrary; he's actually quite nice. He helps whoever asks, even if he never flinches when he's tricked into eating a Golden Rhino Beetle and snarfs down barely edible food on the regular. You don't think anything else of it. After all, stable work is hard work, and it quickly leaves your mind.

And then, one day, he appears. You don't see him until he lands in front of you-somewhat painfully-from the sky. A young Hylian with blonde hair and a stoic, stern face. He's wearing only a pair of pants and a hood. When you go to check on him, he dusts himself off and gives you a thumbs up, then proceeds to cook for 3 hours at your cooking pot. He looked so serious picking out incredients, only to light up in joy at the most hideous concoction of a food you've ever seen that it makes you smile yourself, even if the smell makes your eyes water. He eats it, no hesitation, then eats another 10 baked apples from his pouch.

You ask him to get you some ingredients for a dish; he complies eagerly as he pulls from his pouch 200 more of the same. He asks you to braid his horse's mane; you show him how and listen to him hum, even if there's no conversation during, as he only speaks with his hands. He spends the night, and is gone the next morning, hopping onto a wild horse and riding away as you comb your fingers through his unboarded horse's mane. It's an experience you won't forget any time soon, that's for sure.

And then, after you meet this young man, things start to change. The monsters settle down. Lynels start disappearing, and local merchants are flooded with their parts. The Divine Beasts quiet, red lights pinpointed onto the old castle, and guardians are rare if not entirely extinct. There's whispers that the Hero has returned.

You think back to the blonde Hylian with blue eyes who befriended the dog by sneaking them slabs of meat when you weren't looking.

A roar wakes you from your slumber in the middle of the night, shaking the foundations set in place by your grandfather's father. It was unlike anything you had ever heard of, a wail of pure hatred and maliciousness that soaked into your body and chilled your very bones. You barely even noticed it at first, but now that your feet have carried you to the entrance and the inhuman scream petered out, you couldn't tear your eyes away from it.

The sky was red. A deep crimson, the color of blood. Clouds gathered so thick you couldn't see the stars or even the moon. Lightning thrashes through the sheets of rain and illuminates the backdrop of battle; everyone sees it. Its too big to miss. A giant beast blazing with a malice-filled fire, almost as big as Hyrule Castle itself, tusks dripping ooze onto the fields below. The Calamity has risen again, and you can do nothing but cower, stumbling back inside. Feel the enormous rumblings through the soil as your family huddles beneath a table.

You think back to the boy who was good with horses. The boy who brought change on his tail. You wonder, then, if he was in the middle of it all. You feel he is.

Another scream pierces the air. You don't dare move to look again.

Suddenly, light.

Blinding, intense, burning out in a fraction of a second. Spots still dance in your vision, and yet, the quaking of the ground has ceased. The rain still patters on the roof, but the sky no longer looks bloody, and you hesitantly crawl from under the table.

There is only the rain, and there is only the castle in the distance, and there is only silence.

In the weeks after, you see him again. Only this time, he's brought someone else along, a girl around his age. She smiles gently and seems a little shy, but her earnestness in meeting you and your family dulls it all to a slight glimmer and replaces it with a dazzlingly warm glow.

She introduces herself as Zelda. You know the name; everyone does. She's been a story for as long as you have been alive. The daughter of the late king, thought to be dead one hundred years ago, is holding your hand and asking if there's any repairs that need to be done on your stable. Her smile is beautiful, genuine. You don't know what to say, except to nod your head and point her to a spot in the roof you'd had trouble patching without the proper materials.

The boy from before, you learn, is named Link. The Hero from one hundred years ago, who protected her from the Calamity to the end. The last time you saw him, he was kicked off an angry horse and laid motionless so long you thought he had died. They seem close; he leans over her shoulder as she writes in a journal, and she turns to him every now and again to consult with him about it before continuing. No words are shared between them, but they seem to have an understanding even without his hands signing at her. A single motion floats by every now and again, slow and lazy as she adds up supply costs. Together, they watch the sun slowly sink below the horizon.

They decide to stay the night.

Zelda, you learn, is a very driven young girl. In the few weeks she had been free, she had decided to make a trip around to all the stables and make a list of repairs and supplies they will need for them, then they're going to Akkala to meet a friend who might be able to help. After the stables, she says, is the towns. She's especially excited to see Hateno; she has never been, and Link has said she can move into his house.

She talks long into the night about Hyrule and her plans. A smile flashes over a supper she thankfully saved from Link, as bright as the sun when she spoke of her travels so far and all she'd seen. She wants to bring everyone together, you learn, to try to salvage what was lost and build anew; though when her green eyes look up to the the night sky, she pauses and frowns, brow pulling together.

"If only I had been able to awaken my powers sooner, we might have had an easier time rebuilding." You see her gaze searching for something among the stars. Something you don't see. "It... It was because of me that the Champions... and Link..." Looking off at the Hero who was entertaining your younger siblings, she sighs.

You don't know what to say. "Princess-" You begin, but she cuts you off with a sorrowful smile.

"Please, there's no need for formalities." Looking down at her feet and folded hands, she meets your eyes again. "I am no Princess of this kingdom. She has no ruler, anymore. She has become wild and reclaimed and beautiful. I almost feel as if I don't belong in such a place."

Even she, it seems, is still a child, plagued by guilt. She plays with your siblings before they leave the next day, and you spend the morning caring for the horses as they squeal and giggle with delight, Zelda placing her hands over her eyes and dramatically beginning to count; your siblings scuttle off to find spots to hide. When she leaves, she gives the stable a 50 rupee tip on top of costs, promising to bring more supplies for the hole in the roof on her next visit.

As you watch them head back onto the path, Zelda turns and waves before they're out of sight, which you return.

It seems the Princess has returned; not as a monarch of a broken, shattered Hyrule. But as wild and untamed a Princess as her kingdom.

TL;DR: Zelda is a Princess by Association. There's no kingdom to back her authority, no reason to really follow her except for the fact that she has the best interests of Hyrule at heart. She's the figurative Princess of Hyrule that guides them forward, and most everyone likes her because she tries really hard for her people. She's not a monarch in TOTK, hence why there's no need for a coronation to Queen.

[keldae]

Dialogue prompts: 3. “How drunk were you last night?” “I still have my pants on, so not that drunk.” “Those aren’t your pants…”

Normally, the sound of Karlach whistling was a welcome start to the morning, a reminder that everyone had made it through the night without growing tentacles. This morning, it made Devi groan and roll over, dragging her blanket up over her head – half to block out Karlach, and half to protect her eyes from the too-bright sun. Her head pounded like an ogre was tap-dancing on her skull, and her stomach churned threateningly.

She heard the whistling pause, replaced with Karlach's laughter. There was the low murmur of voices talking, before a hand grabbed Devi's blanket and rudely pulled it away. “Good morning!” Wyll cheerfully said, the biggest grin on his face that Devi had ever seen him wear.

“Fuck you an’ lemme sleep, jerk,” Devi growled, flailing for her blanket. She glared as Wyll just bundled the blanket up out of her reach, smirking before he tossed it to Gale a few feet away. The wizard looked suspiciously amused by something. Devi scowled at him, then glared back up at Wyll. “‘s too damn early.”

“It's almost an hour after dawn,” Gale pointed out, a grin playing on his lips. “We all slept in a bit this morning.”

“Could sleep in longer,” Devi grumbled. She rolled onto her stomach, rubbing her temples. “Ugh.”

“So, not to make your brain work too hard with your hangover,” Wyll started, a laugh hidden in his voice, “but just how drunk were you last night?”

Devi frowned into her bedroll, trying to kick her sluggish brain into a semblance of functionality. There had been a celebration last night, to celebrate the Harpers’ victory at Moonrise Towers and the lifting of the shadow-curse – she definitely remembered that. She had danced, and she'd played a little bit on the violin that she'd found in a crate in the Tower, and then Dammon had suggested a drinking game…

Oh. Oh, no.

Well, best to play it casual. She craned her neck back to look up at Wyll, and reached down to feel her leg. Her questing fingers met fabric instead of skin, and she inwardly sighed in relief. “I'm still wearing pants, so not that drunk.”

Wyll's grin somehow got even wider. Behind him, Gale chuckled. “Love, those aren't your pants, I'm sorry to say…”

“Liar. You are not sorry about saying so,” Karlach called over with a hoot of laughter.

Gale appeared to be trying his best to not laugh. “All right, I concede that point.” He looked back at Devi, eyes alight with mischief. “Those still aren't your pants.”

“What?” Devi rolled onto her back, and blinked down at the enormous trousers on her legs. “What the hell– where are my pants? Whose pants am I wearing?!” She started struggling to her feet, a task made more difficult by the trousers dangling a good few inches off the ends of her legs; Wyll finally took pity on her and helped her up. Feeling not unlike a small child wearing their parents’ clothes, Devi shuffled around in a small circle, trying to not trip over the hem of the trousers. “It's not that funny!” she growled at Karlach's howls of laughter.

“Yes it is!” Karlach retorted, a grin splitting her face. “I bet I can't even wear those pants!”

Devi scowled down at the offending pants. “What in the hells happened to my own pants?”

“Well,” Gale slowly said, amusement in his voice, “you spilled a mug of beer all over your lap last night. And you were very vocal about not wanting to partake in the party with wet, sticky pants on.”

“Let it not be said that anyone in this group is selfish,” Wyll added, snickering. “You had no fewer than three people offer you their own pants.”

“... Liar,” Devi said after a moment, scowling as Wyll grinned. “Who the hell would offer me their damned pants?”

Wyll said nothing, but raised his eyebrows and pointedly looked behind Devi. The half-Elf thief turned around, muttering under her breath; the mutterings stopped the second she registered Halsin standing there, a blanket wrapped around his waist to hide his legs and a scowl on his face that only the supremely hungover could master. “... Hi,” Devi said awkwardly, hearing Wyll dissolve into snickers behind her.

“Morning,” Halsin grunted out. “Can I have my pants back, please?”

“Yes, once I figure out where my pants are!” Devi tried to adjust her grip on the oversized waist of Halsin’s pants. Her uncoordinated fingers lost their grip on the fabric, and the garment dropped in a pool to the ground; Devi yelped, then blinked when she realized she was still wearing pants, despite Halsin's being dropped. “What the hells–? When I get drunk, I'm supposed to lose pants, not wear extra pairs!”

“Do you recall how Wyll said you had at least three offers of donated pants last night?” Gale had a hand covering his mouth, but Devi could still hear his grin. “You were quite adamant about not offending anyone by rejecting their offers of pants…”

Devi stared blankly at Gale, then jumped when Halsin coughed pointedly. “Sorry,” she mumbled, stepping out of the druid's pants and letting him snatch them up before he shuffled back to his tent. “Am I actually wearing three – no, two pairs of pants right now?”

“Are you?” Gale appeared to be losing the fight against his laughter.

Devi groaned, then undid the laces for the brown trousers she was sporting. “Dammit!” she complained when she realized that yes, she had on still another pair of pants underneath these ones – the bottom layer was tightly fit to her, like a second skin. “Who else gave me their pants besides Halsin last night?” she called out, as Gale gave up and burst into laughter.

A pale hand flew out of Shadowheart's tent. “I did!” she shouted from within the canopy of fabric. “And I need mine back!”

Yes, the brown trousers did look like something Shadowheart would wear. Devi shimmied her way out of the pants, leaving her in the skin-tight breeches underneath. An armoured hand snatched up the pants, and Lae'zel started walking to Shadowheart's tent, smirking broadly. “I doubt Gale will complain if you keep those pants,” she pointed out. “They accent your assets in great detail.”

“My ass looks good in my normal pants,” Devi groused, then blinked when Astarion left his tent and came up to her. From the waist up, the vampire looked relatively put-together; indeed, he looked mostly normal, if one were able to ignore the pasty-white legs all but glowing in the sunlight. “Wait. You gave me your pants?”

“Against my better judgement,” Astarion said, almost sounding haughty despite not wearing any pants, and the rest of the camp dissolving into laughter. “And I would like mine back, if you please.”

“You wear your pants too damn tight,” Devi complained. “Where in the hell are mine?!”

“Right here, despite your best attempts to set them on fire or get Scratch to wear them last night.” Jaheira strolled out of her own tent, a smirk on her weathered face and Devi's normal trousers in her hand. “For someone who seems to hate pants when drunk, you did an admirable job of collecting and wearing them… once you lost your own.”

Devi accepted the pants as Jaheira held them out, unable to look the Head Harper in the eyes, lest the older woman burst out laughing. “What else did I do last night that I should know about, besides manage to get into three separate pairs of pants?”

Shadowheart poked her head out of her tent. “Virtually everyone's pants, except Gale's,” she pointed out with a laugh.

“Not for a lack of trying, either,” Wyll added, still grinning.

Devi blinked, looked at Gale, saw him laughingly nod in confirmation, and groaned. “You hear that screeching noise? That's the sound of my dignity dying.”

“You still had dignity?” Lae'zel asked, snickering.

“... Shut up.” Devi scowled. “Lemme go get changed and you can have your pants back, Astarion.”

“What, you aren't going to simply ‘drop trou’ right here?” Astarion asked, smirking. “You had no issues doing so last night…”

Swearing under her breath, Devi marched off to commandeer Gale's tent with what little dignity she had left to muster, followed by the sounds of laughter.

[notchainedtotrauma]

From My Patreon: My Favorite Bits Of Fiction I Wrote As  Emotional Responses to Songs

0:00-0:27: Rushed silhouettes, floating buildings, she was heaving and panting through the streets, the screeches and profanities watery, damp against her head, intent on running. She had established a rhythm she could lock herself in and yet always about to miss a beat, slow down and collapse. The backstory was both arid and sinister. Still, in her mind, she remembered the blood soiled bed like muted faces as silent witnesses, fingers sticky with blackberry jam, her body burrowed into her. Bits and pieces doused with that summoning song, the continuous soundtrack of something she couldn't hold together yet.

I tightened against the slipperiness of the wheel, waiting for May to say something, at long last. It wasn't their lithe body, slumped against the back seat, the unremarkable outfit, a mundane stud uniform, but the hushed collection of glares, their  knuckles tense inside their lap. We weren't quite sure of each other, as long as we'd worked out our siblinghood together, the slurry of kisses, the gut bursting laughter, the unceremonious nonchalance. And still, a crevice. And maybe we left each other, in some ways. The passenger side unceasingly wounded; eyes shrunk and blinking, bleached with anguish, her pleats an act of self admonishment. I could sense the belt slash into her chest and her head lolling from side to side. I took her to sever her trailing rope of confessions. They trumpled on her for so long and with such horror that she was here and there, a mind airless in poisonous water. I sped up, because there was no one, and nowhere, and I wanted her through the window, eyes wide open, even.  

I had hovered above the sinister mapping of the hospital, looking for a reward yet to be named, stung with the viscous trickle of hand sanitizer, and how did I end up here, and why did I remain. I could craft the series of flashing images; the hard metal chair, the glassy borders, and the cop, or the detective, or whatever, reaching down my throat for the scene of the crime. The hospital had been closed for a while. I wanted to remain there forever. I wanted to let sickness carry me even as I was holding sickness at arm's length.  

3:48-3:49: I didn’t ponder on violence often; I dutifully ripped, smashed, folded, clawed, worked away at thick flesh, waiting for the blood to spill, for a crease through the face or bruised arms. Every day, I labored on the push and pull of foreign bodies, of interlaced voices, my hands woven through their armpits, their eyes blinking, the mutilated geometry of their noses. And yet, ultimately, always this green fog, a film of bitterness in the mouth. He had barely glimpsed at me the first time, muttered “There”. I needed to leave; too much was happening, the unsettling sway of fractured hips, too much dried blood, something liquid and acrid coming up my throat. I had done the last of it.  

He wasn’t there. She wasn’t there either, crouched on the still damp couch, her eyes enormous and sharp. The screen before her, with its glut of movement and sound, people sizzling everywhere, and her not following the thread, having lost the story halfway through the needle rattling her heart. She dashed out; she wanted to know midnight. She wasn’t dressed for any occasion; tattered sweatpants, a large cotton shirt. She trailed her hand across the bar, her nonchalant walk, hoping the moment would get caught in an endless loop.

The bacon and the plate beneath, looking at it, she was exhausted. She ignored what to make of all of this. She had been starved, and suddenly not. Two hours of damp showering, not even a trickle, she yearned for the water bandaging her skin. What was she to do with that bacon, growing cold, the bars of greasy meat, dripping on all that white ? It was sinister, not to know what to do about food. Every morning, she dropped a pack of instant popcorn in the microwave with weary indifference, poured the syrup. Her life seemed, to her, regulated by the consistent reality of food. Or aimless sex. Everyday, there was the bed, reluctantly open, her wet thighs, her eyes, enormous, her ordinary orgasms.  

[omniblades-and-stars]

Kith and Kin?

This is a prologue for Bahek Adaar and I swear to god I will finish it one day!

Bahek responded in kind with a solid fist in Katoh's even more solid shoulder, “Good luck for you as well.” She fastened her dagger belts around her waist, adjusting everything just so. “I’m going to go find Hissra, I need more smoke powder.”

“I do not understand you and Hissra’s desires for such sneaky tricks,” Katoh muttered as she hefted her enormous war-hammer over her shoulder. “Do not be too long, Adaar, Shokrakar says the merchants downstairs are anxious to move out. They have no patience for good preparation.”

Adaar smiled, tapped the toe of her boot against the door frame twice and said, “If they didn’t want mercenaries who are well prepared, they shouldn’t have hired Valo-Kas. I will take as much time as is necessary. No more, and no less.”

“As it should be.”

Bahek followed Katoh out of the room, splitting immediately in opposite directions. Katoh headed towards the stairs to find Shokrakar and Taarlok, while Bahek haunted further down the hall to the room their alchemist had claimed for his own. Bahek didn't bother to knock, she simply slipped inside shutting the door behind her in a fluid string of motions, and nearly silently.

“Try as you might, Bahek, you can't sneak up on me,” Hissra barked from the other side of the room, where he stood at a table pushed under the singular window, holding a small bottle with a silvery, viscous fluid beneath the soft rays of the early morning sun.

Bahek clenched her fist and whispered, “Damn it.” She dragged the chair that Hissra had long abandoned from the corner of the room over to his impromptu work bench as noisily as she could manage, spun it around and sat on it backwards, resting her crossed arms over the back, and her chin on her arms. “I'll get you one of these days.”

Hissra made a dismissive sound as he wafted fumes from the open neck of the bottle towards his nose. “You will only manage to sneak up on me the day the gaatlok grenades take my hearing, and not a day before,” he said matter-of-factly and put a cork snuggly into the bottle. “Why are you trying to surprise me while I am working? Do you not treasure the wholeness of my eyesight or the lack of burns on my skin?”

“You wound me!” Bahek said with mock hurt painting her voice, belied by the mischievous smile creaping in at the upturned corners of her mouth. “Perhaps I was sneaking to avoid the others seeing me coming to visit you again so soon.”

“I was not aware there was any discretion due your … visits, Bahek. I believe everyone already knows.”

“Not Kaariss, and thank the gods for that. I might be turned away from sex if he makes our exploits into some song or sonnet,” Bahek laughed.

Hissra carefully placed his most recent creation on the table and removed his leather gloves. He wrapped his fingers under Bahek's chin, tilting her head up to his, “Come now, they aren't as bad as everyone pretends.

“Forever, Hissra,” she teased emphatically before gently biting his lower lip and -

A heavy fist pounded several times on Hissra's door.

“Whatever the fuck you two are doing in there, it's time to go!” Sata-Kas shouted as loud as he could. “Boss says to pull your pants up and get a move on!”

“Shall I kill him?” Hissra asked with a quirked brow.