#didn't know bones can swell and want to go back to not knowing that

[heartfullofleeches]

thoughts

brie would go feral over virgin lust demon darling having like, a demonic form, preferably with big honkers

Yan "Delivery Boy" + Virgin Lust Demon Reader

[Very brief body horror]

-

"So.... A demon, huh?"

Friends tells friends everything. Their fears, their hopes, their secrets. That's how things play out in the movies, anyway. It's hard keeping up with people reaching out a branch of friendship when you seldomly have the stamina to keep up with them or even pick up their calls.

"Yeah! My mom was a demon and my dad's a regular old human.... Or- was it the other way around? I haven't talked to either of them in forever."

As skeptical as anyone would be in his position, Brie felt there had to be a pinch of veracity to your proclamation. Cuteness like yours wasn't a natural feat. His stomach was still raw with the flutters of anxiety retailing the night he showed up on your doorstep to be met with that clueless, charitable smile of yours.

"Oh, yeah?" Brie challenges with a small smirk. "Well if you're a demon, you should probably know what I do to your pizzas before I hand them over to you.

Brie's hands promptly fly over his mouth, every aspect of himself screaming at him for almost letting his own little secret slip through the cracks. Luck being on his side, you merely laugh off off his statement as you spring up from your place on the couch.

"You'd better not be stealing any of my toppings! I pay good money for every slice... Least I used to before all those vouchers you gave me... I can show you if you really don't believe me... I trust you, Brie."

Brie melts into the couch cushions, vulnerability and trust in your eyes welding him in place as you apprehensively fiddle with the sleeve of your shirt - awaiting his answer.

"O..okay." He stammers, tongue tied as the ceiling lights perfectly illuminate every one of your features that keeps him awake at night. "Sure, I guess... Show me."

"Great!" Kicking off your shoes, your limbs grow stagnant as your eyes roll back in their sockets - veins branching outward cross the whites of your scleras till they are reduced to a milky ruby hue. Your fingertips elongate, skin merging with the keratin of your nails as they sharpen into razor points.

Sickening cracks and pops can be heard as the bones of your spine snap to make room for more. Breaths piercing and ragged, your chest swells with each draw of air you pull in - testing the resilience of your formly loose fitting tee shirt as your bust ballons to your noticeable uptake in size.

Rolling your now forked tongue over flat teeth, your toothy grin still holds that realm of innocence as you gaze down at Brie.

"Well?"

Brie jumps as something heavy hits the floor - twin tails swishing back and forth in anticipation. Horror should have been the prominent force driving through him. Fear and terror is what he should have felt. Those were the emotions a coward would experience in this moment, and as a man who branded himself spineless for being unable to express his love to you in a normal and sane way perhaps he was braver than initially believed.

"titties...."

Cocking your head to one side, confusion takes the forefront of your expression. As your hair falls over your face, small, nubby horns can be seen at the bases of your temples.

"Did you say something, Brie?"

"H-huh?! Me?? Course not. You're probably just hearing the ceiling fan." He certainly didn't mention your chest- Nor was he seconds away from spilling into a feverish tangent about how desperately he wanted your massive breasts in his face, and preferably his mouth. That'd be crazy-

Brie peals out of his jacket as if it were on fire, balling and shoving it between his thighs as he laughs - shepherding his eyes anywhere but the dip in your shirt.

"Whew- Man, it's chilly in here! I should've worn longer pants! Hahaha-"

"I can bring you some blankets?"

"No thanks, I'm good! You're super cute by the way! Even more so in this form. Your tits- Fuck! Tails! R-really caught my eye."

[20dollarlolita]

Hi friends,

it's absolutely okay to use disability aids if they help you, and you are allowed to be the one who decides if they will help you.

I spent Christmas in a non-weight-bearing cast, and a friend of mine suggested I use her backup wheelchair so that I didn't have to use crutches for the whole time. I was initially resistant, but I'm glad I got over it.

It made a huge difference. It allowed me to work my job with minimal accommodation, and allowed me to be independent outside of work. I was able to go out and shop for holiday presents. I could leave my house and not worry about if I was going to get too tired to move. It was better for my body, because I wasn't putting my entire body weight on one hip or leg. It helped me be treatment compliant, because I didn't have the constant temptation to put my foot down and put a bit of weight on it. It allowed me to carry things and shop on my own. I was able to work at my job, make sales, and earn commission. The only work-related things I needed help with was to have us move our office plant (whose name is Randal) and to get help carrying large or heavy boxes. My doctor had approved return-to-work paperwork that said I had to sit down for 75% of my shift, and with a wheelchair, I was easily able to do this without going on disability or medical leave.

Here's a collection of pictures of me, not being stuck on the couch in my house.

And people, both friends and customers, were so very weird about all of this.

A lot of people questioned if it was some kind of overkill, because many people who can't bear weight on one leg will use crutches or a kneeling scooter. Other people commented on how inconvenient is had to be, and how difficult things had to be when I was using a wheelchair.

And I realized that other people saw me, compared their level of ability to what they thought mine was, and decided that using a wheelchair was difficult and inconvenient. What I saw was what my level of ability would be without the wheelchair, and what it was with it. Carrying a drink wasn't doable via wheelchair, crutches, or kneeling scooter, but I'd be unable to carry a drink in the wheelchair and people would see it as a huge inconvenience. (BTW the answer is just to get boba at a place that seals the lids on, carry it in your lap, and punch the straw through once you're at a place where you can set it down. Boba lids are wheelchair-friendly).

I think people see "wheelchair" as the ultimate in disability, but for me it was freedom to take care of myself. People want to save using a wheelchair for when you absolutely cannot function without it, but you deserve to be happy and not just to function.

And the fact is, if people are unable to judge my disability aids by understanding the options to them, and if they're only able to judge my mobility aids by comparing their personal ability to how they'd feel using my mobility aid, then there's no way whatsoever that someone else can judge if I actually need it, or not. But I deserved to be using the thing that gave me the most freedom, impacted my life the least, and was the least damaging on my body.

Anyway, I've spent the morning trying to convince someone I know who broke their leg that using a wheelchair is better than staying at home on the couch. I'm not making a lot of progress with that, so hopefully I can make some progress with my friends on the internet who might be going through something. You deserve to be comfortable and happy, and not just to exist. If you do things that take care of your body, instead of hurting it by refusing to take the help that you need, you'll be able to function better. Wheelchair isn't a bad or dirty thing, and it doesn't have to be a means of last resort. You can use it if it helps you.

[moonlight-prose]

dust to dust

a/n: i chose to combine two prompts from the logan promptober hosted by the lovely @silverskyeline. only because old and belt buckle just blended so well for me and the idea i had in my head. i know i've basically written a different version of this in my fic slow, but i've made this one a whole lot filthier. solely cause this is literally my dream scenario with this man.

logan promptober: day fifteen + day seventeen - belt buckle + old

summary: when the days are long and he's grown weary of everything, he knows he can find his peace in your body. that is until he brings a whole new understanding to the belt buckle that sits proudly on his waist.

word count: 1.6k+

pairing: old man!logan howlett x f!reader

warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY!!, fluff, exhausted logan, dirty talk, dry humping, he's so filthy in this one, overstimulation, domesticity.

The temperature of his body was the first thing you sought out. His scuffed boots that had seen better days were discarded by the door—his flannel on a hook beside the heavy leather jacket. You heard him by the shuffle of his feet, the tinkling echo of keys hitting the glass bowl in the kitchen. A creak of the couch filtering through the bedroom door—his raspy groan followed right behind it.

There wasn't much that could pull you out of a book when you were settled in a comfy spot, but the sound of Logan coming home still grasped all of your attention. He called to you silently, his presence strong enough to fill the house with a staggering amount of warmth. As if this place, these walls, wouldn't be the same without him.

"Baby?"

He grunted, rubbing his thumb between his scarred knuckles. "'M here."

"Long day?"

The audible huff gave you enough of an answer to make your way over to him. The dark lines beneath his eyes did little to prevent your stomach from twisting in empathy. He worked too hard. Broke himself right down to the bone and yet refused to let you help when it really mattered. You were his pretty girl, the soft swell of love he came home to every night.

To mar your skin with exhaustion was something he refused to accept.

You simply longed to help him. Bear the brunt of his anguish with him, your hand tightly gripped in his. The walls he built were too high—a mountain that only seemed to grow with each new precipice of emotion he came across—but you were resistant. You would climb until your hands were bloody and raw; you'd dig your heels in and refuse to let go.

His face dug into your stomach, hands curling low around your waist.

Silence became the embodiment of your conversations when he fell into his own mind. You tangled your fingers in his hair, thumbs curving along the base of his neck. The drop in his shoulders as tension released made you smile—the flutter of your heart dropping to your stomach within seconds.

He didn't even have to look at you, yet he had you in the palm of his hand—wrapped tightly around his pinky finger where you belonged.

"What can I do?" you hummed, tugging at a particular chunk of hair that always followed with a raspy groan.

The calloused brush of his palm dragged down your hips, grasping the flesh of your ass to drag you even closer. His face now pressed an inch above your crotch - the sweatpants you wore doing nothing to hide the fact that you were completely bare beneath them. The slight hitch in his back told you he knew. By your scent alone; the slick forming between your legs was sweet in the air, begging for his tongue to bury into you.

"Lemme see her," he grunted, inhaling sharply against your hip. "She's callin' to me princess."

A rush of air escaped your lungs. "But don't you want–"

"To see what I waited all day for." His head rose, eyes peeking at you through drooped lids—a lazy smirk pulling at the corner of his lips.

"You should rest."

"You callin' me old?"

Your hands froze on the back of his neck. "No. You just–"

Fingers curled into the waistband of your sweats, dipping down beneath the fabric to slide along your hip. What little breath you had left caught in your throat—the flutter in your stomach dropping to press right up against your clit. He caught onto the minimal reaction instantly. His hand moving to cup your drooling pussy.

"Nothing underneath," he muttered, wetting his bottom lip. "This all for your old man?"

"Logan," you sighed.

"You like that huh?" Pushing further, his chest stuttered at the hot pool of wetness that greeted him—your body practically purring with such a simple touch. "Knownin' you're fuckin' an old man. Makes you wet doesn't it?"

"Oh fuck–"

"There you go." A huff of laughter escaped his mouth at the way your eyes slid shut. "Dust to dust. One foot in the grave and you still want me to ruin ya."

Unable to even comprehend what he was muttering, you nodded aimlessly.

A harsh tug dropped your sweatpants to the ground, your legs clambering out of them in clumsy quick steps. You felt uncoordinated—untethered. And Logan drank it down like the greatest whiskey known to man. He pulled you close, helping you straddle his lap, to grab a glance down at your sticky folds glistening in the low light of the lamp to his right.

You spread your legs wide unconsciously, the need to please him choking your insides until you held no other option but to relent. Yet you did so willingly and without hesitation. The smile on his face became your sole reason for why you breathed—why you lived.

All for him.

"I bet you missed me." You nodded frantically, canting your hips up into his touch. Only to realize...he wasn't talking to you. He wasn't even looking at you.

His attention lay solely in your fluttering hole creaming for the heavy cock that grew hard between his legs. Starvation bled into his features—darkening his eyes as they dragged down the length of your body. He wanted to eat you, dine on the flesh of his lover with a smile, anticipating more than just your shouts of pleasure.

Oftentimes it scared him how much he longed for the touch of your skin, the warmth that seeped from your softness. He craved you, desired to know each intimate part that lay between the crevices of your bones. The gaps in your ribs encased around the heart that beat solely for him.

"Touch me," you sucked in a breath, chest heaving beneath your tank top.

He barely spared you a glance, his thumb stroking the edge of your cunt. "That's not what she wants."

"W-What–"

The lift was nearly effortless, barely forcing a soft grunt past his lips as he pulled you directly over his cock. The very bulge you were eyeing the second you saw him. He didn't bother to unbutton his jeans or give into the throbbing ache that grew unfathomably quick. You clambered to hold onto his shoulders—mouth searching for his in the hopes of gaining something in return.

"I want to kiss you." A whine spilled free, hips shifting in his tight hold.

"Hang on princess."

"What are you–" The slow drag of your hips along his cleared the words from your mind—a stuttered cry replacing any other sound that might have come to the surface.

Cold and hard was all you could comprehend as he pushed your body back to repeat the same move. His lips plastered with a knowing smile as your eyes rolled back—a low throaty moan ripping from your throat. The belt buckle sat directly beneath you. Covering the button of his jeans. You'd maneuvered your way around it before, barely giving any detail to what it looked like.

Now you felt every minute carving drag along your pulsing clit, stimulating you in a way that shoved you towards a blinding release. Logan's hands became pliant on your hips, giving you the freedom to move as you wished. You thanked him with a kiss.

"Feels good doesn't it?" His tongue slid into your mouth, swallowing down the choked sound that rushed to the surface. "Gettin' off on your old man's belt buckle."

"F-Fuck. It feels—oh god–"

"That's it. Keep goin' honey." Cupping your chin, he pressed his forehead to yours, the hot brush of his breath hitting your lips with each word. "Soak it for me, yeah? And I'll wear it to work tomorrow."

A soft pleading cry was all he got in return, your hips jerking frantically over his lap—a wave of slick coating the tarnished metal. And he laughed. Chuckled softly into a spit soaked kiss that left your mind reeling, lips chasing his for just a bit more.

"I'll drive around with it." His words burned your skin, seeping right down to the erratically beating heart that struggled to keep up. "I'll lick it fuckin' clean while I get off to the thought of ya princess. Me sitting alone in that fuckin' limo. Stroking my cock to your pretty face."

The image flashed neon in your mind and that was all you needed to fling yourself off that cliff. With trembling thighs you pressed your clit down hard onto the metal surface, coming undone with a broken shout muffled against his cheek. He talked you through it, mumbling small praises of good girl, did such a good job for me, makin' me feel good. into your skin punctuated by the brush of his lips.

"Feel good?"

"Mhm," you mumbled, sagging into his chest with a sated grin. He grinded his hip up into you, pain sparking up your body and forcing you away from him. "Sensitive."

His hand brushed down your back, slipping beneath your top to knead at your waist—a soothing rhythm pressed into your skin. A sigh escaped his lips as he settled deeper into the couch, clutching you closer than before. You knew where this would lead. How you'd wake up with him atop you on the couch, restricting you from movement.

That alone kept you from moving.

"Good day now baby?" Your words were whispered against his neck, your lips trailing down to his chest.

A small grin pulled at his lips - his thumb working a circle into your lower back. "Yeah honey. It's a good day now."

[d6volution]

tehehe, okay!! so. Jax x girly fem reader smut!! Reader is almost like a pillow princess, also. Breeding kink with Jax 🤭

your wish is my command 🙇🏾‍♀️

minors dni !

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

"All this just for me? Oh, you shouldn't have." Jax coos in a mocking yet seductive tone. Knowing full well he helped— no, instructed you to assume this position. One of your favorites, all you had to was there lay while Jax took care of you.

For a moment, he examined your face, "Ya really need all that makeup doll? You know it's gonna be gone by the time I'm through with ya, right?"

"Wanted to look pretty for you.." You huffed your voice, getting small, and he chuckled at your pouting face.

"You always look pretty doll.. so damn pretty." He said, admiring your nude body.

You were laid out on your back, a pink pillow neatly tucked under you, just above your tail bone. It was comfortable, but.. also embarrassing. Jax's hand held one of your thighs against your stomach, exposing your glistening folds to him. Your face was hot, and his grin only grew. Radiating that smug energy, "I've hardly done anything and you're already dripping, you could have a little shame y'know." He teased and rubbed the tip of his cock along your folds.

His veiny shaft brushed against your clit , causing you to squirm but his fingers only dug into your thigh. A warning to keep still.

His free hand removed itself from the base of his cock and dipped into your cunt instead. He opened his mouth, something he rarely does— to lick his fingers.. all while keeping eye contact. "You're even sweeter than you look, ya know that..?"

"Jaaaxx...." A pathetic whine escaped your lips, you desperately wanted to hide away in the moutain of colorful blankets that surrounded you, but Jax wasn't going to have that, and you knew it.

"Whaaat I can't admire how you taste? Or are ya just too desperate to wait .. ? That it, dollface? You know, I could do this all day." He laughed, hand returning to his cock. Rubbing it up against your swollen lower lips.

"No, n-no... need you inside Jax, please.." Your needy voice was his weakness.  Desperate and dripping with lust.

"Oh, I know." Was all he said before his other hand grabbed your thigh and pushed it up against your chest , mirroring the other. Your ankles were nearly touching your ears at this point, "Mn. Perfect," He said under his breath before plunging into your cunt. Your back arched and you gripped the sheets beneath your fingertips.

You cursed, and his name escaped your lips in a dissary, mixed with moans and pleas.

"Sh, shh .. I know babe." He hushed you, his body flush against your own as he rutted into your cunt, tip nudging at your most sensitive and deepest spot. "Ya feel that? Gonna make sure I'm this deep when I cum so I can get ya knocked up. How's that sound..?" After all, then you can't deny who you belong to when your stomachs swelling with his kits.

"W.. Wha—" His words rang in your ears but he didn't give you time to think. No, this wasn't the time to use your brain, just to be a good little pocket pussy for him.

"Don't .. worry that pretty little head of yours," He grunted, his hips moving like a jack hammer. Just the thought of getting you knocked up was making him throb inside of you. "I'll take care of you.."

He was panting, the grip he had on your thighs was leaving impressions in your skin. 

"Ja.. aah.... s-slow down—" You whined as he fucked you into the mattress, due to the position he was constantly battering right against your womb. "No can do, you can take it babe. J-Just keep still for me.. gonna cum soon.. your f@ckin' milking me sweetheart.." His stuttered out. Ignoring any fruther pleas from you because your body was telling him everything he needed to know.

Everytime he tried to pull out you sucked him back, your cunt was made for him. Only for him. Perfect for breeding, for carrying his seed.~

He added more weight to his thrusts, knees digging into the mattress as he tried to keep his balance. "Gonna take my cum, doll? Don't waste a drop.. even if you do I'll f@ck it right back into you." And that was a promise.

His hips stuttered and he made sure his tip was digging right against your cervix before finally letting go, "Aah.. there.. right there, get pregnant baby, take my cum." He said, his mouth hovering right back your ear. All his words going straight to your cunt which vicely gripped his dick. Happily taking his cum even when it started to spill past your cunt.

"Nah.. what'd I say babe? Gonna waste my cum like that..?" At this point he was being mean, slowly thrusting his hips and making even more spill out. You babbled out apologies , your cunt so numb that you didn't even notice the orgasm washing over your body.. you were tingling all over.

"S.. Sorry, Jax.. couldn't help it..." You said, but he didn't move. Still buried inside of you.

"Mhmn... don't sweat it, babe, we've got all night.." His eyes were a little.... crazed, focus on the pool of cum in between your legs rather than your eyes.

You were certainly going to be here for a while.

[storywriter007]

request: 2) This one is Percy Jackson x reader who gets seriously injured on the Argo II and tries to act like it's not that bad but then Percy (her boyfriend) forces her to let him look at it and it is really bad and he takes care of her and comforts her (kinda like the Leo fic where he cleans the wound on her back because I love that one so much), and then helps her fall asleep after.

You're Alright - Percy Jackson x Fem!Reader

author's note: i didn't want to do the same injury again, so i tried something new. i hope you like it :)

-> @c-evans-lover22

warnings: cursing, mentions of injury

genre: fluff

word count: 933

-> heroes of olympus masterlist

✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒

send me requests here! (these are my guidelines)

✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒

y/n's eyes filled with tears as she sat on the floor of the infirmary. how could this have happened? well, she knew exactly how it had happened.

one of gaea's mountain minions attacked the argo ll, and hurled rocks at the ship. they escaped, but not before a huge rock smashed into y/n's ankle. she had basically crawled to the infirmary.

she couldn't bring herself to stand up, her ankle wouldn't support her. she unlaced her high-tops, and tried to pull the shoe down.

"ow!" she whispered to herself. "ow, ow, ow, ow."

she managed to pull it off after immense pain. she carefully removed her sock and got to look at the beautiful sight that was her foot. it was bleeding, it was swollen, and it was just hideous. she tried to grab a towel, so she could wipe the blood off, but unfortunately, she was capable of nothing. she couldn't move and if she did, she'd knock everything over.

"y/n?" a voice called throughout the hallways. "y/n? oh, there you are!"

percy came into the infirmary.

"hey." she smiled.

"what're you doing on the floor-what happened?" he asked, looking at her disgusting ankle.

"nothing, i just got hit." she said, trying to hide the tears that had welled up in her eyes. "i'm fine."

"you're not fine. you're sitting on the floor of the infirmary with a swollen, bloody ankle that doesn't let you stand." he said, almost offended.

"it's really not that bad-"

before she could finish her sentence, she felt herself get picked up and placed on the exam table. she felt embarrassed at how warm her face felt. he picked her up so easily. he brought another exam table and put the together in an l-shape. he then took her leg and put it on the table he had brought over.

"thank you." she smiled. "but seriously percy-"

"you can do it on your own?" he chuckled. "i'm here for you y/n. please, accept my help."

she silently nodded as percy grabbed a towel and wet it with warm water. he gently wiped the blood away.

"let me know if anything hurts."

"i will."

percy washed her foot and ankle with soap and water. after that, he dried the area. instead of bloody and swollen, now it was just swollen.

"this is going to burn." he warned, before pressing the towel to the various small cuts she had acquired.

y/n hissed in pain.

"you're alright." he assured.

he kept going, until he got to her toes. when there wasn't a cut, it didn't burn, but when there was, it hurt like hell. afterwards, he put small band-aids on the cuts. he pressed the swollen spot.

"ouch! percy!" y/n blurted.

"i'm sorry." he said calmly. "i needed to see how bad the swelling was."

"is it bad?"

"nothin' to worry about." he smiled. "you'll be alright."

she felt herself relax. she might've not been able to walk, but she did feel alright.

he grabbed a roll of gauze and began wrapping it around the middle of her foot to her ankle. when he got to the swollen part, it squeezed her ankle, making her hand shoot up and grip percy's bicep.

"y/n, this isn't the best time to feel my muscles." he smiled.

"get your head out of the gutter." she laughed, gently pushing him away.

when percy was done wrapping her ankle up, she felt a lot better, but it still hurt. like she had been stabbed straight through the bone and with every movement of her foot, the knife bent inside of her. he gave her a little bit of ambrosia for the pain. percy quickly cleaned up and y/n tried to slide off the exam table but was stopped by percy putting her back in place.

"you can't put weight on it." he said, concern flooding his voice.

he cared. somebody cared. percy picked her up bridal style and walked out the infirmary. he set her down on her bed, and made a pillow mountain for her to keep her foot on.

"let me know if you need anything." he said, sincerity in his eyes.

"yeah." she paused. "can you, uh, stay here?"

"yeah." he smiled. "i can."

he laid down behind her, and pulled her down so she was laying on his chest while keeping her foot elevated. she could feel his breath down her neck as his arms wrapped around her. he smelled like salt-water and vanilla. she felt herself physically relax as she melted into his warm touch.

"thank you." she said, turning around to see his sea green eyes.

"always." he smiled.

they looked at each other for a moment before percy leaned down and kissed her. it was slow, and y/n was about to turn around so she could put her hands on him.

"no, you stay that way." he demanded, pulling back from the kiss.

"you're no fun." she whined, feeling percy turn her back around.

after an hour, y/n felt herself completely relax. her body felt fine, her mind was at peace, and for once, she didn't feel like the world had it out for her (even though it did, and that's why she had a swollen ankle). but for once, everything just felt alright. as she became one with percy's firm grip, the lights began to dim and her eyelids felt heavy.

"percy?" she whispered.

"i forgot to tell you i gave you a sleeping medicine." he whispered back.

"percy!" she whined, before falling asleep.

[oneforthemunny]

the more that you say, the less i know |mafia!eddie munson x reader|

prompt: you have the talk with eddie about his job.

contains: not really angst but not really fluff??? language. alludes towards violence or potential violence, but nothing specific mentioned.

"Can I ask you something?" You whispered, fingers tracing down a pattern of a web surrounding the black widow etched into his collar bone.

The room was thick with smoke, sweat. Eddie's cigarette burning between his fingers, the hallway light the only illumination the two of you had. Skin still slicked with sweat, clothes discarded on the floor; it was routine now. Eddie would pick you up from the bank, take you out, spoil you in lavish gifts or expensive dates, and you'd take him back here. To your place. Never his.

"What's on your mind, baby?" Eddie rasped, cool and easy, blowing out of him like the smoke that rolled through his nose.

"What, um," Your throat seemed to swell together, choking out the words you were desperate to say.

Eddie's head lolled over to you, careful and casual. Still there was a glint in his eye that you caught, even through the low light of the room, and it made you shudder. Like he knew what you were thinking, what you were going to say, like he could see right through you- maybe he could.

"What's going on, baby?" The purr in his tone, soft and calming. It almost made you want to brush it off, stuff your question down again, push it away for another time so you wouldn't ruin the moment. Ruin the softness.

His eyes were so soft when you finally met his gaze, bright and alert looking solely at you. Eddie was good at that, making you feel seen, like you were the only person in the entire world. It was one of his many magnetic qualities that kept pulling you back in, not that you gave much of a fight.

"I... I don't want to make you upset." Your stomach twisted, turned sharply, heart hammering.

Eddie's eyes didn't move, but he didn't miss the way your hands wrung, softly in your lap. "What's wrong?" He cooed, a gentle tone, wobbly and unsure. It wasn't one he was used to using, but he'd try for you.

You swallowed, bile rising, unsure of what to say. It sounded insane, the idea of it all, something out of a movie or a book, not something that should be your reality.

"You alright?" Eddie frowned, bumming the cigarette in the tray besides him. He brought his hand towards you, a gentle brush over your cheek bones. You winced at the feeling, jaw clenching. Eddie's heart sank in his stomach. "What's goin' on?"

"You... You said you worked in management." Your voice was small, filled with hesitancy.

Eddie blinked for a moment, face staying the same, unmoving from your own gaze. "Yeah." He nodded.

There was a pause, a tension so thick in the air you felt like it was crushing. "Is that-" You stopped yourself, a shuddering breath, hand still gripping and wringing around your palms. "What-What kind of management?"

Eddie exhaled slowly, pushing off the mattress slowly. Your eyes never left his, rounded and scared. You looked terrified- Why did you look terrified? Did you think he would hurt you? You were hard to read like this. Eddie was used to being unsure, used to the cryptic unknown, but not with you.

"I do all kinds of management. Management of people, mainly." Eddie said slowly, watching your face carefully. "Why? You lookin' for a job? Gonna leave the bank, baby?" He grinned, teasing, playful, a desperate attempt to lighten the mood. To get you to not ask what he knew was coming.

You didn't laugh. Lips didn't curl, and he didn't get to see that dazzling smile he hoped to. Instead, your eyes stayed low, avoiding his gaze.

"That's... That's really what you do?" You muttered, head still tipped towards your lap. "Management?"

Eddie inhaled, shoulders rolling back, slouching against your headboard. Instinct kicked in, that reserved feeling washing over him, trying to detach his emotions to you so he could threaten you. Scare you. Get you to fall into line like the others in Hawkins did.

Your eyes cut to his, rounded, scared. His heart skipped, rushed with familiar bouts of electricity, head spinning, a heat spreading from his neck to cheeks to ears.

He couldn't.

His mouth wouldn't allow it even if he wanted to. Tongue swelling thickly in his mouth, choking back every venomous word that threatened to fall.

"Why don't you ask," Eddie said calmly. "And I'll tell you what you want to know."

He knew you weren't wearing a wire, completely bare in front of him. Nothing around was out of the ordinary, he wiped his nose, casually looking out your window to see only his car on the street. The same cars of your neighbors in their driveways, he'd memorized them all by now. Knew who was at each house.

"What?" Your brows creased.

"Ask me what you want to ask, baby." Eddie said calmly. He could see the hesitance, clear on your face, scared by something someone had finally told you.

"Hey, look at me." Eddie nodded, reaching out to touch you, fingers barely grazing over your bare shoulder. You tensed under his touch and he tried to ignore the aching that filled his stomach.

"I'm not gonna hurt you, baby. C'mon." He cooed, sweet and coaxing enough to have you melting back into his touch. "I would never."

"I know." You muttered. You did know, even if the more rational side of you told you that you shouldn't. You shouldn't trust him, not after what Nancy told you.

"So just ask me." Eddie's hand rubbed over your shoulder, thumb pressing into a blossoming bite from earlier. "I can't say this is unexpected. I knew you'd have questions sooner than later."

Your eyes shot up, rounded with shock. Eddie's lips curled, it was cute, how sweet you looked. Like you'd been caught.

"You're... You're not in management, are you?" You muttered, toying with the material of your quilt, rolling the fabric between your fingers.

"I'm in management." Eddie nodded slowly. "Just not a management you're familiar with. More freelance, I guess you could say. Not like in an office like you are, sweet thing." He pulled his knees towards him, letting his arms fall over top.

You could feel his gaze on you, careful but not harsh, gentle. It was unexpected. "Right." You frowned.

"I-I heard something different." You could barely register the words coming from your own mouth, so far removed from the bedroom, that it felt like you should have just been on a different planet.

"What'd you hear?" Eddie pressed lightly.

That same silence crept back between the two of you, eerily still, your gaze meeting his. "I heard you were in the mafia." The bluntness of your tone left a finality, cutting and sharp.

A chilling realization washed over you, crashing with a reeling sensation of nausea. Eddie's brows raised, a tiny quip, before he could even stop it. Your own eyes widened, color draining from your face entirely.

You didn't think your heart could beat any faster, no it wasn't possible, yet here you were, letting it hammer mercilessly in your ears. A sitting duck in front of Eddie, you wondered how many other there had been in this position. How many others saw his face as the last they'd ever see, and if you were destined to be next?

"Hm," Eddie's tongue rolled over his teeth. You jumped at the sound, fisting the sheets. Eddie didn't move, didn't pounce on you, no goons flying in from the windows like you'd imagined in your fear stricken fantasies. He stayed calm, relaxed even.

"Well, that's... that's the easy answer, I guess." Eddie nodded slowly. "That's one way you could describe it."

"So, it's-it's real?" You babbled stupidly. "That's real? You're-You're in the mafia?" A wobble in your tone that made you cringe.

"Well, not, like, the mafia." Eddie snorted lightly. "Not like The Godfather type mafia, but not not that. A, uh, a smaller scale. We- I work with some different stuff." His eyes met yours. "Do some different things."

"Like what?" You whispered. Why were you whispering? Your mind raced, head spinning. This was a dream, it had to be. It certainly felt like a dream.

Eddie's lips curled, just soft enough to have your heart fluttering, flustered in a whirlpool of heat and emotions.

"Told you, it's management. I wasn't lying about that. People management, money management," Eddie paused, finger drumming against his knee cap. "Other stuff." You fought back a shudder.

"I... I don't-" You swallowed, though your mouth was incredibly dry.

"Let me talk for a second." Eddie said, a commanding tone in his voice you weren't familiar with. It startled you, and you weren't sure why you were aching down to your core.

An inked hand skated across your sheets, and for the first time you saw the rows of skulls across his knuckles when it grabbed yours. "I don't know what you've heard, or what you've been told, and I don't want to know. I don't really give a shit about what other people say about me, but I do care about what you think about me." Eddie's fingers intertwined with yours, holding your clammy hand in his.

"I-I don't do this. I don't date, and I definitely don't talk about this kinda shit with people I don't work with." Eddie muttered. You could feel his own sweaty palms, squeezing your hand lightly.

You weren't sure what to say, that you could even speak if you wanted to say anything at all. So you stayed still, stayed quiet.

"But I meant what I said. I'm not... I don't want you to be scared of me or anything." His eyes met yours softly. "I won't hurt you. Wouldn't've started this with you if I didn't... if I didn't want something serious along the way."

You swallowed. "Why?"

"Why?" Eddie repeated. "Why what, sweetheart?"

"Why... Why do you do this?" Your voice dropped into that hushed tone, like you were scared to speak too loudly, you wanted to keep it between you. Eddie's heart swelled, the sincerity in an action he wasn't even sure you knew you were doing.

"It's all I've ever known." Eddie admitted softly. In the darkness of your room, he'd never felt more seen, more exposed under your soft eyes. "Everybody's gotta make it somehow, baby. This... This is what I had to do."

"And," Your fingers wiggled in his grasp, squeezing his hand nervously. "You wanted to do this? You're happy doing this?"

"I'm not... I'm not like some fucking sick monster, ok?" Eddie huffed, more defensive than he would have liked. "I don't enjoy when I have to do certain shit, but..." His knee bounced, eyes flickering back over towards his cigarette.

"The women's shelter down the street from where you work, you know the one?" Eddie asked. You nodded slowly. "They didn't have hot water for a month last spring. City wasn't going to do anything about it, they didn't fuckin' care until I made them fuckin' care." You watched him carefully. "Couldn't have done that if I had a normal job, could I?"

You shook your head lightly, teeth gnawing at your bottom lip nervously. "Point I'm trying to make here, baby, is..." Eddie took a deep breath in, free hand cradling your jaw gently, pinning you under his gaze. "I'm not just wreaking havoc around here for no fuckin' reason. I don't fuck with anyone unless they fuck with me and I have to, alright? That's just how the business goes. That's management."

"But I'm not gonna hurt you. I'm not gonna hurt anyone who doesn't deserve it. That's not what this is. That's where those movies got shit wrong, alright? It's not all like that." Eddie shook his head with an eye roll.

"You want me to be honest? Most of the time, it's boring. A lot of planning and moving shit around, making sure it's where it's supposed to be. It's organized crime, baby, not nearly the chaos that Hollywood wants it to be."

You hesitated. "It's not?"

"No," Eddie rolled his eyes. "I mean, you gotta be careful and stuff, but it's not like every single day you're having a shoot off with a rival gang or some shit. Not all horse heads and explosions, most of the time it's just planning shit. Managing people and things, and making sure it's where it's supposed to be with no issues." You didn't dare ask what the 'it' of the matter was, not now anyways.

"I just," You swallowed, taking a deep breath in. "I thought because you-you're always so... alert."

"Yeah, well, I'm not going to be stupid." Eddie scoffed lightly, the playfulness in his tone returning. "You should be more alert. More aware of your surroundings. How long did it take you to realize?"

"Realize what?" You frowned.

"Realize you were going out with a guy in management." Eddie smirked, picking his cigarette back up.

You blushed, picking at the sheet again. "I had a feeling after the fourth date." You admitted. "Not that it was that. Just that... I don't know. I knew it was something. I asked around and... someone told me."

Eddie knew it was Nancy, but he respected how you tried to play it off. Play it safe, that you were protective of your friend.

"So..." Eddie's fingers drummed on his knee. "Anymore questions?"

You shook your head, thumb brushing over his knuckles, lightly over the inked skin.

"I got one for you." Eddie hummed, squeezing your hand lightly, blowing the smoke towards the window. Your eyes lifted towards him. "You want to go to my place?"

"Your place?" You asked, stilling.

"Yeah, I mean, now that you know, I can show you my place. Don't have to explain why there's security and it's out in the middle of nowhere." Eddie smirked. "I have dogs too."

"You have dogs?" You asked, eyes lighting up. "You didn't tell me that."

"No, I knew you'd want to meet them." Eddie grinned.

"How many?" You tilted your head sweetly to the side.

"Four." Eddie beamed. "You'll like them. They'll like you."

"You're just full of secrets, aren't you?" You hummed, lazily holding his hand in yours, fingers curling around the other.

Eddie blew a last drag of smoke out of his mouth, letting the cigarette dwindle away in the tray. "You want to come?"

"Is this your way of luring me away so you can sink me in the river?" You laughed, nervously, like you weren't entirely joking.

"C'mon," Eddie shook his head lightly. "Don't play like that. I just wanna show you my place."

You looked a little anxious, torn. "Truth? I want you to come over so I can show you where I live." Eddie cooed, hands sliding down your arms sweetly. "And... honestly? I can't do the twin bed again tonight, babe, I'm sorry. It kills my neck."

You gaped, shoving him lightly. "What's wrong with my bed?"

"Nothing. You know I never complain." Eddie grinned. "Just a little cramped for the two of us. I've got a bigger bed. You can spread out more."

"Oh? You're just taking me to see your bed?" You teased, grabbing your discarded shirt off the floor.

"No, I'll let you see the whole house of horrors." Eddie smirked, eyeing you as you bent over to grab your pajama bottoms. "But you can definitely see my bed if you want to."

You hummed, stepping back towards him. His hand caught your waist, pulling you nearly on top of him, noses brushing. He needed to see you, see your eyes, know what you were feeling, thinking.

"You trust me?" Eddie whispered, long lashes batting. Your heart swelled, and for a moment, you were sure he could convince you to do anything if it meant he'd stay looking at you so sweetly, so fondly.

You hesitated for a moment, nodding slowly. Nancy never said he was mean or cruel, only what he did for work. You knew she would have told you earlier, long before you asked if he was.

It was just a job, you told yourself, letting him sway you. Let him consume all your fears with a feverish kiss, hands pressing into your spine, pushing you closer and closer to him.

He held the passenger door open for you, letting you slip inside. Your street was quiet, still with neighbors who's long gone to sleep. Eddie held your hand in his on the drive, thumb brushing over your knuckles, stealing small sideways glances at you. You trusted him, let him drive you into the unknown, through the dark, together.

[love-toxin]

hyrule spice <3 (rauru, byrne, tauro, link)

(general cws: graphic smut, fem/afab pronouns, breeding, knotting, hylian/zonai relations, pet names/name calling, dirty talk, degradation, squirting, fingering, overstim, bondage, unprotected sex, rough sex)

rauru of hyrule

Rauru never falters, never hesitates. He wants you and you're his. There's no fighting it--there simply can't be any doubt that you have his love.

But as the king of Hyrule, he has a duty to fulfill. Marriage, family, continuance of the royal bloodline...you understand, don't you? Even as a Hylian, you must. As a man and a Zonai, he has needs.

One of those needs, especially when faced with a pretty Hylian like yourself, is to breed.

"Ah, ah, ah--ahnnnngh-!" Is it you now, is it him? Who even cares at this point, you're basically the same being by now; bodies intertwined and moving in unison, every shuffle dictated by Rauru's massive Zonaite body towering over yours. Both his furry, clawed hands rest over yours, palms dwarfing your tiny Hylian fingers as he plants his body firmly into every thrust. The thin, fuzzy layer of hair that protects his cock is now coated in your arousal, sticky and slick from the pounding you've taken so all that rings in your ears is a hefty plap plap plap from behind as you take his thrusts.

Rauru once apologized to you, when you met, about his "off-putting" appearance. His ears, his claws, his snout that makes it difficult to kiss, his fur and his tail...he doesn't apologize for it anymore. He knows now that he doesn't have to, not when he gives you treatment like this.

"Forward," He snarls into your ear, gone mad with the weight of his lust and the frenzy of his mid-month heat. His teeth could rip the flesh from your bones, yet even in this state he uses them only to pierce the sweetest of claiming bites into your throat and down your spine. "Bend...until you break."

He can't be satiated by thought alone. Nor even the touch of his own hands, or a concubine if he owned one. It can only be you. Only your soft, squishy flesh rubbing up against his fur, your hands pinned beneath his claws, and your womb pierced on the tip of his thick, knot-heavy cock that's just begging to lock itself within your cunt and never let go.

Those claws dig painfully into your back, yet it doesn't dissuade you, and he loves that. He loves that at the end of the day, you'll submit to your king as he forces you to the sheets and pins your hips under his, his knot swelling and swelling until he finally breaches that soft place and all becomes right with the world. Through the pain you still adore him, and through the pleasure even more so.

Now, it's just a matter of soothing your bruised, marked-up body with his voice and his doting touch, with kisses and whispers of love and promises of all the gorgeous gifts he's going to present to you, as a token of gratitude for allowing the first of the Zonai to mate with the first Hylian--and person--he's ever truly loved.

byrne the dueling spirit

One hundred years. One hundred years of hard labour, training, and agony. Loneliness and isolation and anger, fury building itself up and up and up until it boils, begging to be let out on anyone close enough to make a decent punching bag.

Byrne doesn't know love. Never has, never feels like he ever will--he only knows pain and weakness, the desire to grow stronger clawing at him like a ravenous dog. Maybe that's why he finally lets loose on you. You were within reach. Never said no, never gave him anything but a smile.

And you're regretting it now, he bets. Because you have a muscled, weighty beast of a man on top of you, and you can feel the way he's learning this kind of touch for the first time as well as you can see clouds in the sky.

Or could, if you didn't have your face forced into your pillow, back arched so deeply the sweat pools like a puddle in the dip of your back. And it shakes and spills with the creaking of your bedframe, your down mattress squealing for mercy as Byrne forces you down and bullies your pussy into submission.

"Shut up." He groans, as if his bandana hasn't been balled up and stuffed into your mouth to quiet your incessant noises. If he didn't like you, he wouldn't say anything. But he can't help but tease you...can't help but make you wish you'd never invited him back to your house in the first place. "....Useless bitch." He grumbles, the smirk on his face going unnoticed as your lust-numbed brain leaks out your ears. Your pussy's cute, but it won't let him go--and even when he tries, your body just sucks him back in like you can't go a minute without being fucked.

But it just gives him the chance to put that metal arm to good use. It isn't rubbing or pinching he uses to his advantage, but a cold, hard, wet slap against your clit that finally shocks you enough to let him go--just barely enough to slide out before you clench down on the tip, though, and your muscles won't loosen as if you've been made to have a vice grip most inconveniently. He's gotta go. "Can't stick around fucking you all day. Let go."

Pop. With a deep, clingy squelch, he's finally pulled free from your soaking wet, tight as hell abyss, contrary to your whines and squirmy wiggling that beg him sweetly for more. To stay.

You're pretty and all. He likes you, and he doesn't like anyone. But he can't stay....and you can't get too attached to him, or else you're just gonna end up heartbroken.

But, maybe...maybe he can spare you a little dignity and make you finish. He thinks as he slides his cockhead through your folds again, unaware of just how hard he's falling in love as he sinks back in.

tauro the scholar

Your scholar is a nightmare because he won't let anything just lie. He needs answers. Evidence. Scientific proof. He needs logic and deciphered clues to figure out life's greatest mysteries.

Hence why he's doing today's case study on your soft, cute, and sensitive little pussy.

"Subject-responds-to-stimuli-even-under-duress," He speaks softly as his free hand scribbles out his notes on the pad between his feet, his fingers on the other hand buried deep within your twitching, stretched pussy lips. The 'stimuli' being him, and 'duress'....well, emotional duress counts. Especially when you've orgasmed 8 times today. "I believe in you, baby." Tauro replies cheerfully to your fucked-out groans, a smile permanently etched on his lips as he curls his fingers deep into your cervix. "I can make you ejaculate today! We're almost there!"

Somehow the sterile language he likes to use--which would normally be a bit of a mood killer in bed--just doesn't faze you anymore with Tauro. He's a bit of a kook, a cute airhead with the kind of knowledge the Sheikah themselves would kill for. A sweet, silly man who likes to tease.

A man who isn't intimidated by the pulses of your pussy nor the jerk of your hips as the pressure pushes down on your bladder, who positions his face right up close between your legs despite you gasping out that you feel like you're gonna pee. Embarrassment is nothing to him.

"That's what it's supposed to feel like."

He growls with an eager grin, fucking your cunt even faster with those thick fingers that's toe-curling but not yet cusping on painful. The bristly hairs on his freshly-shaved chin rub your soaked skin as he leans in, laving his huge, hot tongue over your tortured clit that's been messed with like a hot button all day today.

It's only when your shaking hips and arched back come to a standstill that he's finally satisfied--drenched in your juices, his face glistening as he talks you through and urges you to "let it all out baby, give everything to me" until you're squirting just like he told you he'd make you do for him.

Rarely have you seen such satisfaction on his face upon finding the answer he was looking for. Each tremor comes as he eases more out of you, every gasp and spurt of fluid getting him more excited about the results. You drench him from head to lap and he couldn't be more ecstatic, licking every bit he can get off his fingers and his palm as he looks up at you through hooded eyes.

"Now..." He pants, hair slicked down and tongue lolling out of his mouth as he laps up the droplets sticking to your folds as you tremble. "...Let's see if you can do that again, hm?"

link the hero

Link needs very few, simple things in life to coexist with reality. Those are primarily food, warmth, sunshine...and sex.

Poor hero. All he needs is an orgasm or two to get him back into the fight when he's exhausted from his toils. That's not so much to ask for, right?

That's where you come in. Such a pretty thing--and such a nice girl to help him out when he's in need. Link can show up on your doorstep night or day, rain or shine, healthy or half-dead, and to see you let him in and give him a place to put his feet up makes him feel like he's in love.

And whatever ails him is sure to clear up with a dose of your sweet, slick pussy that he swears was moulded just for him.

"Ha...ha...hah, ah-!" Link huffs out as he comes to a close again, hips bucking violently from below as he lets those animal instincts run wild with you. He can't be stopped, hence why you have to use those handy Lynel-silver shackles to cuff him to your bed, all so he won't break free in the heat of the moment and start fucking you rabidly on the floor of your cottage. Not like that's ever happened before, and he accidentally traumatized your milkman when he came knocking on the door....

"D-Don't strain, Link..." You gasp, his cum flooding down your thighs from hours upon hours of rabid coming-home-from-battle sex. "You'll hurt yourself."

Link doesn't talk much as it is, but the wobbly grin and the rolling back of his eyes in his head serves well enough to say what he thinks about that sentiment. Don't care. Need to blow my load. That's what's written all over his expression, and you can't say you're much surprised...or disappointed.

"Fine," You sigh, swirling your hips in deep circles to slow his thrusts--and to remind him of how much he's at your mercy now, no matter how strong of a warrior he is out on the field of battle. Your chuckle causes his back to arch up off the bed, his wrists pulling hard at the cuffs while his heart nearly beats out of his chest. "Then be a good boy and cum already. I've got a mess to clean up."

Link growls, that feral growl that only comes out when he's really, desperately in need of release. He starts thrusting more violently, his hips barely meeting the mattress anymore as he chases that pleasure against your womb--against that blasted little wall that feels like heaven but constantly stops him from shooting ropes right into the source of that ecstasy he loves. Maybe one day.

For now, it only stops once you've had your cervix appropriately bruised, and he's made you slump over him in a panting, gasping mess as his seed flows out of you and into his sweaty lap. Maybe he doesn't need Hyrule, Hylia's blessing, or the Master Sword, or anything anymore.

Maybe all he needs in this world is you.

[hyunsvngs]

kinktober !

kink: crossdressing

pairing: lee felix x fem!reader

wc: 1.8k

crossdressing: wearing clothing typical of the opposite sex.

"How about this one?"

You turned back to Felix, twirling in the mini-skirt you'd bought earlier that day.

"Mm. I like that one."

Felix usually loved your little fashion shows after a shopping spree. The tent in his pants proved that he was enjoying this one, to a degree, but there was a dull look in his eyes and a pout on his plump pink lips.

You bent over, meeting his eye level. "C'mon, Lix. What's the matter? Do you wanna see my tits?"

"Yeah."

His cheeks went pink when you lifted your shirt, but he still didn't perk up. This was bad. Your tits usually fixed everything. You climbed atop him, straddling his lap and squeezing his cheeks. "Spill. What is it?"

He sighed, looking away. "I don't know. I'm just jealous, I guess. You get all these pretty clothes, and pretty underwear and lingerie… Sometimes I wanna be dressed up all nice, y'know?"

You couldn't help but smile. "Aww, Lixie, is that all? Why didn't you say something sooner?"

"You don't think it's weird?" he asked, the tips of his ears turning red.

You shook your head at him. "Wait right here, okay? I'm gonna find some things for you to try on."

Grinning to yourself, you hurried to your closet. Truth being told, you'd been waiting for a chance to play dress-up with your boyfriend for a long time. He was such a pretty boy with such beautiful features. He deserved to be dolled up.

You turned back to him minutes later, after having resisted the urge to toss every pink or lacy item you found in your closet and drawers across the room at him. You had just a few items bundled in your arms.

Felix looked at you, eyes wide. You could tell he was pleased, but also a little overwhelmed. "Can I have a minute to look through everything?" he asked.

"Of course, angel. Let me know when you want me to come back, okay?"

You were practically vibrating as you waited, pacing backwards and forwards, unable to contain your excitement. You couldn't help but picture him, his cock pitching a tent beneath a skirt, precum leaking and staining the fabric.

"Hey," you heard Felix's voice from behind the door, after what felt like forever. "Can you help me?"

You pushed open the door. He was standing at your vanity, facing away from you, though the show he was giving you from the back was delicious enough. He'd dressed himself in a very short pastel pink tennis skirt that you hadn't worn in forever, and quite frankly had forgotten you owned, paired with your white thigh-high socks. He'd put on a white lace bralette, stretched a little across his slightly broader frame.

Felix turned around. "Could you help me with…" He trailed off, seeing your astounded expression. "What? Do I look okay?"

"Holy fuck, Lixie. You look perfect."

His pretty pink nipples peeking out through the lace bralette, his bulge swelling out beneath the skirt - it was a fucking glorious sight.

He smiled, his whole face lighting up at your praise. "Yeah? Do I look pretty?"

"So fucking pretty, baby." You closed in on him, backing him against the vanity. One hand went to his waist, thumb stroking his hip bones where they peaked out from the waistband of the skirt. Your other ghosted up the skirt, going to rest on his upper thigh.

"I-I was just gonna ask…" His voice was barely above a whisper, a rosy blush dusting his cheeks. His tongue swiped across his lips, a clear sign that he was feeling a little flustered at your reaction. "Was gonna ask if you could do my make-up… put some of these in my hair…"

You looked down at the butterfly clips and lip gloss on the desk, briefly considering them. He would look so sweet. But you didn't know if you could hold yourself back. No, the accessories would have to wait for next time.

"Go get on the bed, princess."

Felix squeaked, complying immediately, jumping onto the bed. The skirt rose up as he did so, revealing further lace beneath…

You raised an eyebrow at him. "Lee Felix, are you wearing my panties?"

His eyes flickered up to meet yours nervously. "Is that okay?"

"More than okay." You nodded. "Lixie, you look so pretty in that skirt but I want it off. Now."

His fingers went to the zip, tugging it down over his hips and onto the floor. Your breath hitched at the sight - you could feel yourself growing wetter by the second. He'd picked out one of your more ornate items, a lacy white pair of panties which complimented the bralette perfectly. His dick was straining through the material, twitching lightly.

You felt breathless, on fire with arousal. You pushed him back against the bed, forcing him down with two fingers against his shoulder. He looked up at you, slightly startled, leaning back on his elbows, as you climbed atop him. Your own skirt rode up your thighs, the wetness on the crotch of your panties lining up perfectly with his dick. You ground down, both of you sighing at the friction. You both moaned when your lips crashed against his, your tongue slipping into his mouth.

When you pulled away, Felix looked like he was about to explode - he looked just as turned on as you felt. You thrusted against him hard, fighting for the friction between your clit and his dick. God, you were like horny teenagers all over again - both so fucked out and he hadn't even entered you yet.

"Can we fuck?" Felix asked, his voice raspy. "Please, I need your pussy so bad."

You caressed his cheek gently, and he leaned into your touch. "Of course. Anything for my pretty boy."

Begrudgingly, you lifted yourself from Felix, kneeling as you straddled him. You lifted the panties, unsheathing his penis and letting them rest at the base of his shaft. The lace adorned his balls, cradling them like precious stones. Your fingers danced across them, enticing a moan from Felix.

"The lace feels so good," he mewled.

"Yeah, baby? Your balls look so pretty, all wrapped up in lace."

He looked up at you, eyes twinkling. "I have pretty balls?"

"Yeah, sweetheart," you said, giving them a gentle squeeze. "Give me your fingers, baby."

He held out his hand, and you took it, extending two of his dainty fingers. You brought them to your pussy, sliding them through your folds.

Felix looked up at you as though you were a shining goddess. "You're so wet. All for me?"

You smiled at him, endeared. "Yeah, baby, all for you. You look so perfect, dressed up all pretty. Driving me fucking crazy."

"Let me in your pussy - please? So wet… are you ready for me? Can I come in, please?"

You took his fingers, pushing them inside yourself. You couldn't help but gasp - you felt a slight stretch, but they slid in so easily. "That answer your question?"

Felix nodded. "Yeah - yeah, baby, fuck. You're ready. Let me in, please, please," he babbled.

You giggled at how needy he was. "Sure, honey." You gripped his dick lightly at its base, steadying it for yourself, positioning yourself just right. You inserted the tip into your pussy, ever so slowly.

"More," Felix whined. "More."

"Patience, Lixie," you chastised him gently. You began to ride him, only taking him an inch deep each time. He was whimpering beneath you, his face contorted into an expression of pure bliss. "Look at you, you can barely take this much. You'd die if I put it all in."

"Don't care," Felix insisted. "Need it!"

You raised an eyebrow at him. "Alright, sugar, if you insist." You showed him no mercy, slamming your pussy all the way down, taking his full cock inside you.

It was a sensation that stunned the both of you. You felt so full. However, your desire to overstimulate Felix was immense, and you pushed through your own feelings of overwhelm. You rocked on his dick, grinding your hips down into his with each bounce.

Your hands laid on Felix's chest while you rode him, hands cupping his lace-clad pecks. His nipples were pert, poking into your palms. You couldn't help but grin devilishly as you took them both between your fingers, pinching them gently. Then not-so-gently.

Felix let out a strangled whine. His eyes were watery, his expression far-gone. Honestly, he looked like he could cum at any second. Truth be told, you hadn't been expecting this to be a particularly long session. You knew he was only holding on for you.

"How do you feel, baby?" you asked him. Your own voice was a little choked - you were very much focusing on Felix here, but his dick was still slamming into your g-spot with every tilt of your hips, your clit rocking against his skin every time you brought yourself down.

"I feel so pretty," Felix whispered.

"You look pretty, Lixie." You stroked his cheek gently, and he leaned into your touch, kissing your palm. "My pretty little princess."

"Yeah, fuck - I wanna be your princess! Fuck, Y/N, I'm gonna - I can't hold it back!"

"It's okay, darling," you assured him gently. "Cum for me, baby, give me all your cum."

"Gonna fill you up! Gonna - Y/N!"

"That's it, baby, there you go," you encouraged him, continuing to ride his cock as he came.

Felix was incoherent, whining and moaning so sweetly for you. You were sure the neighbours could hear - the whole street, probably. Though you didn't care, and you doubt Felix did either. The two of you had the best sex life potentially in the whole world, and you didn't care who knew.

"Baby, baby - fuck, can't take much more," Felix whimpered.

"Just a little more, honey," you urged him, continuing to fuck yourself on his oversensitive dick, torturing him the way you knew he loved. "You can take it, I know you can."

Felix threw his head back with a whine, a single tear spilling down his cheek. You smiled down at him. He looked so sweet when he was all fucked out. You halted your riding, lifting yourself and letting his poor abused dick fall out of your cunt.

You stayed, kneeling as you straddled him, watching as a drop of his cum trickled out of you, splashing onto Felix's abdomen. Felix raised his arms weakly, hands cupping your ass as he watched his cum drizzle out of you. He squeezed your cheeks and you jolted a little, causing the cum to splash across his chest, painting both Felix and the bralette. It was a work of art; droplets of cum clinging to the lace like dewdrops on a spiderweb, oozing through and decorating Felix's tanned skin.

"You look so pretty covered in cum," you complimented him, running a hand through his hair, damp with sweat.

Felix pouted. "Got your top all messy, though."

"It'll wash out," you reassured him. "Plus, I think it's your top now. You look better in it than I ever did."

[bloodlust-1]

A bit of a weird request but my biggest insecurity is my larger vulva and I was wondering if you could write an Astarion smut where Tav is too insecure to initiate with Astarion due to that insecurity and him comforting Tav

My new obsession is adding stretch mark details bc that’s what I have, But! Ofc, all bodies have different shapes and sizes (And that isn’t stopping Astarion), soo let’s get into itttt.

Hope you like it anon!

・ “Let me see”・

Astarion x fem Tav — Explicit 18+

Summary: Being naked in front of Astarion - For him to see? It was all too vulnerable for Tav’s insecurities. But Astarion boldly displays Tav, legs spread, for his admiration.

T/W: Smut!

Notes: There’s something so therapeutic when a lover just *Loves* your body even when you’re insecure.

Astarion flung the doors of Tav's room open with a loud bang. Tav jumped in her seat just to see Astarion storming in with a determined look on his face. His brow was furrowed in frustration and his eyes held a hint of irritation.

Tav sat at an old wooden desk looking at a map of different quests marked in scribbles and dots. Needless to say, Their group was lucky enough to find an abandoned cabin with strong bones to even stand.

Astarion came to a stop in front of her, his arms crossed over his chest, "What's going on?" Astarion demanded.

He leaned in, his hands gripping the edges of her old wooden desk as he peered down at her with intensity. "Why are you avoiding me?" the rush of nerves coursed through Tav, and she felt the sting of his frustration.

There was a slight gloss cast over Astarion's eyes. Under all the frustration, he was truly worried. Remorse sank in, Tav knew that she had been keeping to herself and causing Astarion distress. After all, she was well aware of how important she was to him.

"I-I'm not avoiding you," she stammered, her eyes darting to the map on her desk. "I've just been busy trying to plan our next move. You know, with all these quests we need to complete."

The real reason why she ran away from Astarion was because of her own insecurities.

As Tav and Astarion grew closer, she worried that if things became too physical, he would see all of her flaws and imperfections. The stretch marks, scars, and the biggest insecurity between her legs would be on full display.

Tav was terrified of his reaction. The thought of him seeing her in such a vulnerable state made her want to run and hide.

Astarion, on the other hand, seemed to have no bounds. He desired a deeper level of intimacy with her, but Tav's insecurities were holding her back. She couldn't shake the feeling that he would see her differently, and her larger proportions only intensified that fear.

Tav wanted to give into his touch, but her insecurities were constantly tugging at her will.

Astarion let out a frustrated sigh, his gaze softening slightly. "We both know that's not true," he said, his voice gentle now. "Just tell me what I did wrong, love, so we can fix this already. It's driving me insane."

Tav's heart swelled at his words. She felt terrible for neglecting their relationship. She turned to face him fully, her eyes meeting his with a mix of regret and affection.

"I'm sorry," she said softly, placing a hand on top of his. "I didn't mean to push you away. I've just been so focused on the wrong things lately... I see how wrong I am now."

His angered demeanor softened, "But why? I was worried you were having second thoughts about us."

"Astarion, I never second guessed what we have."

"Then tell me why you were avoiding me."

Tav felt a cold sweat chill up her back. She wasn't expecting him to hound in so deep on this question. But she knew she couldn't keep hiding these insecurities from him, it would only push them away more.

With a determined sigh, Tav parted her lips, closing her eyes to avoid seeing his reaction, "I'm really nervous about having sex with you because I'm insecure about my body." She paused for a moment and took in a small breath. "I want to be completely open and vulnerable with you, but I'm afraid you won't find me attractive."

He scuffed, "That's Impossible." Astarion straightened his back before walking over to Tav's chair. He forcefully pushed the leg of the chair so that it was facing him.

Astarion grabbed Tav's waist and lifted her up onto the desk, causing a loud clatter as he swept everything off to the floor. The sound of clinking and clattering echoed through the room, but Astarion paid no mind to it.

"If only I knew this earlier...I would kiss every inch of your body until those insecurities were no longer."

Tav tilted her head away from his gaze as his face inched closer to hers, "I felt like you might've judged me..."

Astarion grabbed Tav's jaw tightly enough to force her face straight into his, "I have a contract carved into my back for fucks sake. Nothing is more uglier than this." Astarion let out an airy chuckle before locking eyes with her. "What is bothering you so much, my love?"

Her cheeks burned in embarrassment. Well - here goes nothing. "Down there - it doesn't look...pretty."

A sly grin spread across his face, pulling at the corners of his lips. "I couldn't disagree more."

Tav's eyes widened -

His slender fingers danced down the curves of Tav's body, and a teasing smile played across his lips. "You think it isn't pretty?" he whispered, his touch sending shivers down her spine.

Tav's body went tense from the sudden touches. But before she could protest, his fingers settled on her hips, holding Tav in place.

"And yet," Astarion continued, his voice low and playful, "it's probably the most perfect part of you." His words made Tav's heart skip a beat. "I'm sure of this," Astarion affirmed, his gaze intense as he met her eyes.

Tav's face burned hot, feeling both flattered and embarrassed at the same time. But in that moment, with his fingers on her hips and his words in her ears, Tav felt a little piece of confidence.

With a firm grip, Astarion grasped Tav's jaw, his fingers curling tightly around her cheeks. Desire burned in his eyes as he tilted her head back.

With a gentle yet forceful touch, Astarion exposed her nape, his lips trailing hot kisses along the side of Tav's neck.

Tav closed her eyes, completely under his control. His touch was intoxicating and she found herself craving it more and more. With each kiss, Tav's body melted into his, completely surrendering to his embrace.

An airy breath escaped Tav's lips while Astarion found his hands groping the pudge of her hips and ass. Tav nibbled on his lower lip as he tried to pull away from the kiss.

A mischievous chuckle escaped Astarion's lips. He was pulled back into the kiss playfully. But as their lips met again, he couldn't help but become serious, his eyes filled with a glint of excitement. At that moment, nothing else mattered.

Tav and Astarion were lost in their own world, their bodies entwined, their heat exuding off each other. And as they finally pulled away, both of them were left breathless.

"May I?" Astarion tugged at the hem of Tav's blouse.

Tav nodded softly.

Astarion pulled her blouse off, unclipped her bra, and tossed it to the side of the room. There was a small pause as his eyes traced over her bare chest, admiring it. His fingers softly graced Tav's skin gently, allowing his eyes to follow wherever his hands explored.

"You're stunning." He whispered while he fondled her breasts. Astarion was content with the simple pleasure of watching Tav squirm beneath his touch.

And as Tav's whimpers turned into moans he knew that they wanted each other, badly. Astarion leaned over and pressed hungry kisses against Tav's chest.

His breath deepened and he eagerly pulled off Tav’s pants and panties. He stripped Tav of her clothes until her shoulders tensed up, her eyes becoming watery, "I-I feel a bit shy." She thought again of her insecurity.

"Shhh…it’s okay." He gently guided Tav to lay back on the desk, his hands supporting her as she surrendered to his touch. “Just stop me if you get too uncomfortable, my love.”

He took in her naked body. He marveled at the sight before him. Every curve of her body was perfectly accentuated, like a work of art crafted by the gods themselves. He traced his fingers over every scar and mark.

As he gazed at her, he couldn't help but think that Tav resembled the women depicted in ancient statues, their bodies bare and curvy, their beauty immortalized for all to see. In that moment, Tav was just as breathtaking.

With each touch and caress, Astarion admired her. His hands dragged down her stomach while he kneeled in front of the desk. His thumb ran in between her folds, and it rested on her clit. He circled his thumb, pleased to hear the moans that flowed out Tav's mouth.

“Is this why you were so worked up?” He stared at Tav’s core, continuing to rub it. His mouth watered just staring at her.

From Tav’s pov, she saw his long pale arms caressing her lower body. It was gentle, but confident in his movements and it sent shivers up her back.

“Yes…” Tav shamefully admitted between the tingly sensation Astarion was sending up her spine. It was some what embarrassing for her, but he seemed to be completely taken aback from her body.

“Let me see -“ his hands rested on her knees, pushing them wider so that Tav was completely displayed naked in front of him.

His mouth inch closer and pushed a kiss against her clit, “You’re the prettiest when you’re like this. Legs spread apart for me to taste.”

Tav went silent, only the heavy breathing of her chest rising and falling was heard.

Again, Astarion placed a kiss over her core, pressing hot air against her each time he exhaled. He lingered longer, and his mouth started to move in wider kisses.

His tongue teased her folds until it found the perfect spot of her clit. Once found, Astarion hooked his arms around her thighs and pulled Tav deeper into his mouth.

A sharp tingle like electricity spread through out Tav’s body. Her mouth hanged opened as small moans filled the room. For the moment Tav closed her eyes and melted away into Astarion’s bliss.

His tongue was precise and flicked steadily in Tav’s most sensitive spot. Her hips bucked each time she felt the intensity of pleasure, but he pulled away each time. He wanted Tav to last long, and he wanted to taste her for as long as he could.

“You taste as good as you look, darling.” His husky voice tickled Tav’s inner thighs and it melted her heart, his compliments. He truly knew exactly what she wanted to hear.

His dragged his tongue softly against Tav’s core, “This is what held you back for so long?”

Tav proper herself up with her elbows, “It did.” Her eyes were hazy yet a tinge of sadness.

He shook his head in disagreement and click his tongue, “It’s perfect. And you’re perfect.” His red eyes intensified his gaze, “Stay right there. I’ll show you just how delicious you are.”

With a rough hold Astarion dug his fingers into Tav’s thighs. He buried his face between her legs and fuck - It sent Tav into a moaning mess.

“Mmh! Astarion-“ her voice cracked and trembled.

Tav arched her back, her hands gripping Astarion’s white curls as he flicked his tongue over her sensitive clit. Each touch sent waves of pleasure through her body, making her moan and whimper with need.

He continued to tease and please her, his fingers joining in to add to the sensation. Tav felt herself getting closer and closer to the edge, her body trembling with anticipation.

Finally, with one last flick of Astarion’s tongue, she climaced, her body trembled with the force of her release. Astarion sucked every drop of her essence, slowly bringing her down from her high.

As she caught her breath, she looked down at him with gratitude and desire. He smiled up at her, his face glistening with her juices.

So no, it may not be "pretty" in Tav's mind, but to Astarion, it was the most perfect part of her. And that, my dear, is all that truly matters.

Any thoughts? Comment 👇🏼 I love to engage!

[derangedanomaly]

could you do bad sanses and star sanses who’s s/o is a skeleton monster as well:3

btw hope your having a good day:D

Hii! I am having a swell day! :D hope you're also having a good day! As for the request, I decided to do a little spin on it.

The reader is dead, and you're magically brought to life. (A little like in Corpse Bride).

Decided to cut this up into two parts! The next part will be: Error, Dream, Ink, Swap

Part 2

Their s/o is a skeleton (PART 1)

(Nightmare, Killer, Dust, Horror)

Nightmare:

He doesn't really care in the beginning, cause..like, he met more than thousand of skeletons before. Why would you be any special??

Would act like you're never even there. 😭

After one day of having enough, he tries to get some negative feelings out of you. But...you know...this proves to be difficult, cause you're always very cheerful!

It bothers him immensely, won't stop trying to get you in a bad mood.

But he just can't succeed. (Bummer)

This changes when he finds out that you're a skeleton... because you're dead.

His reaction is to be expected. He immediately reacts by smirking widely. (More like, creepily 😭)

Now he has a way to get negative feelings out of you. (Good luck with that by the way)

Your relationship is very...angsty. At the start. He's just using you to get some negativity, and you hate him for that. How lovely! :)

You actually can't take it anymore, so you snap at him for the first time that y'all know each other. This particular moment, is actually what makes him simp respect you.

Look, he just has a type for people that deny him or stand up to him. (Since no one really did it before, out of fear)

He became a little vulnerable when it came to you from that point onward.

He actually tries to help you out to understand some of the skeleton magic. (He's really just showing off though. Wants you to be impressed by him 💀)

You two act like an 'old married couple.' As Killer states.

Since you weren't born as a skeleton, but became one after you died, you were much more fragile...you would find yourself being wrapped around Nightmare's tentacles, so he can heal your injuries. (Mostly broken bones.)

Unfortunately, Nightmare very much forgets this fact very often...so he'll be frustrated with your fragile self almost every time.

Nightmare went up to you in anger, his tentacles furiously moving on his back. "I told you to cut off Ink! Not laze around." You furrow your gaze at him, starting to feel irritated. He knew you were physically unable to do so in your current health condition, yet he still shouts at you?! "Oh no no no Nightmare. You're blaming me?!" He rolled his eyes, staring you down. "Yes, of course. Who else would fuck this mission up as badly as you?!" You let out a low huff, cooking up a plan. Oh this is gonna be golden. "Nightmare...h-how could you say that...?" Nightmare's gaze suddenly changed as you let out crying sounds. He didn't know what to say now...it was.............awkward.. for him, I mean. "Uhm...damn, I really didn't expected that reaction from someone like you..umm....are..you.? Ok..?" You almost let out a small laugh at his quiet question. How very uncharacteristic of him. You shake your head, slowly looking up at him. "No...no. I'M NOT FUCKING OK!" He flinched when you suddenly shouted, pointing at him. "FUCK YOU, AND YOUR EMO ASS!" You stomped your way away from him, leaving him stunned, to go treat your injuries.

He should feel angry at you for shouting at him like that. He should already be making a punishment for you, but...he did neither of those things. The only thing he did, is stood there. A turquoise blush started to slowly appear on his face as he watched you tend to your injuries, with Dust on your side helping you out. He couldn't help the next thought that came to him as he watched you, little hearts appearing in his eye sockets instead of his white pupils. So this is love?

Killer:

Oh. You're also a skeleton? Cool.

He doesn't really know how to feel about that at first. He also thinks that you're just another Sans. 🤷‍♀️

After he finds out that you're not, his interest is 10 times more peaked then ever.

If you're not sensitive about the topic, he will ask thousands of questions about how being dead works.

Since he's a gamer at heart, he will make some silly jokes about you being like the skeletons in Minecraft. 💀 (Partially forgetting he's also a skeleton.)

He can't stand you doing anything that requires strength. Not because he's frustrated with you, but because the little playboy is very worried for you. 🥺

Literally WON'T let you even open a very tight jar.

He's like your little servant. (If you want, he'll even let you call him that. He's just freaky like that you know.)

He's partially helping you with everything just so he can show off his strength to you. He wants to make you swoon over him.

Whenever you're sad, he'll make it his mission to make you laugh. (Which works. He's good at making people laugh. Most of the time..)

You both just tease the other. Seeing who'll back out first. (None of you do. Lol.)

He's always demanding for you two to be paired together on missions. He reasoning is always like, 'I want you close to me' or 'I don't want to be paired up with anyone else besides you.' but that's only half of the truth.

He's doing this because he wants to keep a close eye on you. Wants to make sure you're safe.

Look, he once saw what injuries you had when you broke your bones for the first time, he doesn't wanna experience that again.

"Alright... Changing to blue!" Killer groaned as he took another card from the deck. You were seated on the couch, playing Uno. And you were winning! There's no way Killer can win, you have only one card in your hand, and he has-! Wait...oh SHOOT! You didn't say Uno! "Hah! You didn't say the word..~ take one." Killer pointed to the deck of cards as you sighed. "Whatever. I've got this anyway!" You beamed. Killer only looked at you with curious gaze.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah!"

"I never lose, cupcake." You hummed at the nickname, not refusing the pinkish blush appearing on your cheeks. "Me neither!" Killer's smirk made you suddenly nervous..what is he planning? You hope he doesn't have some trick up his sleeves.... really, he's kinda stupid..but not when he's playing games! It could be any type of game, and he'll win with passing colors. You didn't even know what to do to win against him at least once.

"W-What? What's with your smirk?" Killer shrugged. "It's nothing...why? Scared~?" You snorted, and let out nervous laughs. "Hah! You're kidding? Pfft..no..just.... why are you smirking...?" He couldn't help but laugh at your sheepishness. "Nothing.. really....I just like looking at you. I like playing games with you. You make playing them fun." You couldn't help the blush forming on your face. "....thank you, Killer...I also like playing games with you. Your overconfidence is very attractive." Killer suddenly stopped what he was doing, which was drinking, and spit out the said drink. He wasn't expecting that. And now... he's the one flustered.

Unfortunately, he didn't noticed your successful win in his dreamy daze...

Dust:

He doesn't pay you much mind. He knows too much skeletons to handle another one...

He views you just as a stupid joker that will only make his life more miserable....until he finds out you weren't born as a skeleton, but became a skeleton after you died.

His opinions about you didn't changed much. He just became less harsh with you.

He does feel very interested in the details of how does one even become a skeleton..but feels shy to outright ask you. Especially if you're sensitive about that topic! He would never ever wish to make you uncomfortable!

He starts to try to talk to you after he finds out that Horror trusts you. If Horror trusts you, then you can't be a stick in the mud or anything like that? Right?

You guys actually have a very pleasant conversation. You find his journalling cute, which he curses you for. 'He's not cute damn it!' yes he is. He very much is.

He panicked the first time he saw your broken bones after a mission. He'll ask you tons of questions about what happened, while patching you up like an angry/worried mom.

After that, he doesn't let you do everything alone. He has to supervise if something bad happens! (Just an excuse to hang out with you more)

He often likes to test out some 'gadgets' he makes specifically for you, to stable your fragility. Some kinda help, but some don't help at all.

He has a journal titled 'Y/n'. At first, like usual, he writes about your powers... species etc.. but after awhile of getting to know you, it slowly shifts to writing about trivial things, that he doesn't normally writes in his journals..

Things like: your favorite color, drink,...your ideal date. (don't ask him why that's an important information.)

You sit on a chair, watching as Killer and Horror play a game. It was getting pretty heated, until you felt a hand tap you. You turn around, only to be met with Dust's chest. You pause, cursing under your breath, until finally shifting your gaze upwards on his face.

Dust shyly smiles down at you. "Hey..." You nod at him. "Hi." There's an awkward silence for awhile, until he finally speaks. "Uhm. So, Horror told me how nice you are... so I decided to give you a chance to prove yourself... Prove to me that you're not like the other skeletons." You slightly gulped, staring at him with confusion. "Ok.. so..what? You wanna play 20 questions?" He nodded, sitting down next to you. And so...your little game began.

The questions were quite normal. Ranging from 'What's your favorite color?' to 'Favorite animal?'. Dust suddenly asked you a question that made you pause for a bit..

"Do you have a significant other?" You blinked up at him.. thinking it over. "No...I don't. No one really made me interested, you know? Besides... I'm a little romantic in these sort of things! Heh..." Dust looked at you, curious. "Oh? We're your fantasies unfulfilled?" You slowly nodded at his question in embarrassment...

"I just want to be given flowers romantically, finding little romantic notes on my table from my secret admirer.... I know that it's a little fairytale-like. But I just like the thought of that..." Dust hummed, looking off to the side.

—

You get up from your bed as you hear knocking on your door. Nightmare couldn't possibly be requesting you for a mission at this hour?! You open the door, only to be met with Dust's eyes. You smile at him, relief washing over you to find out it's not Nightmare... "Dust? What're you doing here so late at night?" He smiled softly at you, blushing. He suddenly showed you a beautiful banquet of your favorite flowers! He held them out to you. You took them from his hands, feeling touched at this gesture. "Huh..? Dust.. what's all this for?" He smiled. "Do you remember when you told me about your romantic fantasies that were unfulfilled?" Ah yes. It was a little way back..you smiled at the thought. "You...did this for me?" Dust, yet again smiled and patted your head. "Anything for you... Sleep well, princess." You were left there with the biggest blush on your face. No fair Dust! You looked at the flowers again, smiling warmly, until getting inside your room.

You placed the flowers in a vase, and put it on your table. As you did this, a letter suddenly appeared on your table. You jump a little, not expecting that. You took the letter in your hands, reading it. It was a love poem, written for you! At the very bottom of the letter is signed: 'Your secret admirer'. You hug the letter in giddiness. He didn't forget...

Of course he didn't. How could he...when he has it written down in his journal. ;)

Horror:

He's... interested, to say the least. Horror always felt like something is different about you, call it a sixth sense or something, but he just somehow knew you weren't a 100% pure skeleton. (You smelled different 💀)

That's why he kept following you around... You found it quite cute, but from other people's perspective...it was.. terrifying.

He was like your own guard dog.

You tried making conversations with him, but he would never respond.

He did watch you closely while you talked.. but it was really like if you were talking to yourself.

It kinda seemed like he never listened to you, but truth be told, he did listen. Just never responded.

He was never much for talking anyways. He's a good listener though! 👍

He panicked when he heard your bones break the first time. And when I mean panic.... I mean he went absolutely bonkers.

After that, whenever you were on missions he sat you on his shoulders. (I HC that out of all the sanses, Horror's the tallest)

This slowly became a normal occurrence to you. You would be standing somewhere, he would come and sit you on his shoulders.

I mean...you didn't complain. 🤷‍♀️

You were talking with Horror about your day, as he watched you with that smile of his. Wait... he's probably not listening. He's not listening...you probably bore him. Now you feel bad.. you're wasting his time..You slowly stopped talking after awhile, glancing down. Horror looked at you in confusion.

"Something..the matter..?" He carefully put his hand on your shoulder. You sighed, looking up at him once again. "No.. it's just.....It doesn't really seem like you ever listen to me...I feel like I'm only wasting your time with this, sorry.. I'll just go now-" as you were about to run away, he stopped you, holding your hand. "Wait..!" You looked at him curiously. He looked really sad..

"...I...." No words were coming out of him, as he felt shy under your gaze. He inhaled a deep breath, and then exhaled. "..please..don't...leave..." He coughs a little to make himself stop talking so slowly. "This is...all I'm....waiting for...at the end...of the day.....Y/n..." You feel touched by his words. "I'm always...listening....to you...I love your voice.." it took everything in you to not burst out into tears.

You went up to him and hugged him. "Aww! Horror....I thought you're never listening to me! Thank you.." Horror blushed red, but smiled, enjoying your hugs. He returned your hugs with a smile similar to a puppy..

He's surely going to try engaging in your conversations now! He doesn't ever want to see that broken expression on your face again..not when he's around.

[katz-rambles]

hello! proud member of the arcane fandom here, can confirm we are alive and well ! may i suggest a little something with ekko and a gn (or masc) reader? perhaps comforting ekko after the bridge incident of episode 7- thank you ! and take care <3

Yess! I js finished rewatching Arcane today, and the bridge scene is still one of my favorite fight scenes! Take care, as well, Anon!!

1k words, so it's a little on the short side.

(fluff, gn!reader, reader has some medical knowledge (but I don't, so I apologize if this is inaccurate), Ekko's a tease, illusions to sex but nothing actually happens.)

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰

It's safe to say that the day didn't go as planned for either of you. You're waiting at home, pacing around the room. You had a bad feeling about the whole ‘going to topside’ thing Ekko told you about. It's the day after, and there's still no sign of him. Even Scar hasn't heard from him. All your mind does is go to the worst. Could the enforcers have killed him, you don't know, and you're not sure if you'd want to know.

You were hoping that by the time you woke up, he would be there. You spend the whole morning pacing and panicking. You try to take your mind off it by getting out and seeing some of the other firelights.

It works. Talking with them and then playing with a couple of the kids helps. I'm mainly playing with the kids, though. It's fun. They convince you to play house with them, and one of them hands you a little doll. It reminds you of your childhood, and it makes you happy knowing that they get to have a somewhat normal childhood.

There's suddenly a lot of voices and clamoring when the entrance opens. So you go and check it out, it can't hurt to. You have to ,gently, push past some of the small crowd to get to see what's actually going on. “Hey, sweetheart,” Ekko groans and stumbles, and you're quick to wrap your arm around him to help stabilse him. When you look down, you're met with an odd sight. You can check having a councilor inside the fireflights base now. He clings to your side and lets you help him get up into your shared room so you can assess the damage.

You let him sit down on the bed, and he sighs, resting his head back on the headboard. You scan him for any big injuries. There's one that catches your eye, a bleeding wound across his stomach. “It wasn't supposed to go this way,” he starts, helping you lift up his shirt so you have access to the wound and the continuing, “it was just supposed to be, I go across with Vi and the other girl. Give them the stone, and then everything would be better. But no.” He winces when you pat some of the alcohol down on it, cleaning it so you can stitch him up. “I know, I'm sorry.” You sigh and press your free hand on his cheek. One of his hands covers yours, and he leans into your touch.

“This is going to hurt like a bitch, you know.” You warn him and grab a pair of tweezers when you notice the small pieces of metal lodged inside the wound. He lets out a shaky breath and nods, one hand grabbing onto the sheets of the bed. You can hear him wincing and groaning when you start to grab the metal, slowly pulling it out, trying not to hurt him too much. You drop the metal on the nightstand and stand up to grab the stapler. You dab some of the numbing cream around the wound in hopes that it won't hurt too bad when you close it. While you wait for it to kick in, you get on your knees and take a look at his ankle.

“It's not broken. Nothing a splint won't be able to fix.” You say as you feel his ankle for swelling or a broken bone. You grab the wooden splints from the nightstand, glad you grabbed them just in case, and place them on either side, securing them in place with a nice layer of bandages. You grab the stapler and Ekko groans in protest, “oh fuck, is that part really necessary?” You scoff and shrug. “I could just knock you out and do it,” You offer, pulling out a vial of anesthetic from the kit. You laugh when he stares at you like you just grew another head, “besides, I've already numbed the area, so this is the best it's going to be.” You say and press the stapler to his skin, internally wincing every time the sounds of it goes off and Ekko moans and groans with each staple. You thank whoever's listening that you didn't have to do too many staples. You don't think you could handle any more of hearing him in pain before you gave in and actually knocked him out.

“There.. all done.” You smile at him and rub the side of his leg. He nods, and you grab the bandages, wrapping it before you go and grab a new shirt for him to put on and take the old one. “Come here, please?” He asks and grabs your hand, pulling you towards the bed. Who are you to deny him, so you give in and crawl into the bed beside him, careful of his injuries, and lay your head on his shoulder. “Thank you,” he mumbles and kisses your cheek, leaving smaller pecks on your nose and forehead before he kisses your lips, “what would I do without you?” He mumbles against your lips, and you laugh. “I don't know.. staple yourself and probably miss.” You tease, and he scoffs, giving you a glare before he kisses you again. You're just glad he made it home in one piece, and so is he.

“I guess this means I'm on bed rest for a bit, huh?” He mumbles, and you roll your eyes. “When have you ever complained about bed rest?” You scowl, and he laughs, a real laugh, not a fake one to make someone happy, a real one. You kiss him again, and he rests his hands on your waist and pulls you closer to him, his hands going lower until they rest on the curve of your hips and you smack his hands away. “What part of bed rest did you not understand?” You groan and push yourself back, hearing him laugh and rest his head on your chest. Finally resting. You're glad he's here.

[hyuuukais]

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚your song (1.6k)

->♡idol!han jisung x fem reader

->♡pov: u fall in love with han jisung

->♡warnings: 1 kind of suggestive comment

it's a little bit funny, this feeling inside

never in your life had you fallen in love. of course, you knew love, you knew her well. love surrounded you in almost every way possible; you knew her like the back of your hand. but romance? fireworks? falling so deep you're drowning in it?

you can't say you're familiar with the feeling.

so when you get this tingling in your fingers as they brush against his arm accidentally, causing you both to look up and blush, you indulge in the foreign feeling. lightheaded, nervous, giddy.

"hi, i'm jisung-" his smile slightly falters as you pull your hand away. "you're felix's friend, right?"

i know it's not much, but it's the best i can do. my gift is my song and this one's for you

overworked, overtired, a cup of hot chocolate turned cold long ago the only thing in your system.

as if he sensed your stress from across the globe, your phone lit up with an incoming call. you debate getting up to grab your phone which is across the room charging on a small table. seeing the contact name decided for you; hanji.

"hello?"

"hey baby," the nickname he'd adopted for you makes your heart swell when he speaks. "you okay?"

"um, yeah, i guess so."

"you don't sound very convincing."

you sigh, giving in and confessing that your workload had been crazy lately. something about him made you want to tell all your deepest secrets, stripping yourself down to the bone for him to see.

"i know i can't do much from here, i wish i could." there's a pause. "what time is it for you?"

"...three am."

"three? y/n i- you!" his reaction makes you laugh. "okay. okay, listen. you, me on the phone, your bed, right now."

"i'm sorry, what?"

"not like that!" he says, a bit too loudly. "i meant like, you go to bed and i stay on the line. i could sing you to sleep."

a blush creeps up your neck, your cheeks, your ears. you agree, of course, and hurry off to bed, you can finish your work last minute in the morning. hearing the one and only han jisung sing to you personally? well, that was an offer you couldn't pass up. little did you know he would do it any time you asked.

his voice comes over the phone softly, and you can even hear him pick at guitar strings. you don't recognize the tune; something new, he said, something i've been working on for y- um, just something, haha. it doesn't take long for sleep to take you, and when you wake, he's hung up. of course he has, he has things to do too. a part of you wishes he'd stayed overnight. there's a text, a simple good morning i hope you slept well!! did you dream of me? :P, and your heart flutters.

and you can tell everybody that this is your song

"y/n hurry up or i'm gonna eat all your birthday cake myself!"

you had just finished getting ready to leave, picking out a green skirt to compliment the shirt jisung wore. you didn't know where you were going, only that one, you were meeting the boys there and two, he wanted to match. green looked so good on him, you couldn't help but stare when he first came into your little apartment.

over the past year, you'd grown closer to him, and one thing he couldn't wait to do was to celebrate your birthday. jisung brought it up multiple times, especially during the last few months, all of the things he wanted to do with you, experience with you. at this point he was almost challenging felix's best friend position.

"oh my god, you look gorgeous." his eyes widen as you step out. "you're joking right? like, you're actually joking? i get to spend my life with someone as beautiful as you-"

now your eyes widen, but it was like jisung hadn't even noticed what he said. he takes your hand in his, making you do a spin; you laugh freely and feel yourself become you in his presence. no one made you feel the way han jisung did.

you were slowly coming to terms with that.

"have i ever told you how much i love you?" jisung wraps his arms around your waist, playfully nuzzling into your neck. anyone looking in would think you were together. "because i love you a lot. shoutout to lix for losing you at that party, 'cause i don't know if he'd have introduced us. keeping you to himself."

he hums a now familiar tune, the song he refuses to tell you about. anytime you bring it up, he shies away, it's nothing, just work. the notes vibrate into your neck. this moment, it's engraving itself into your mind. the intimacy, safety, love.

a moment passes, he moves away from your neck. your faces are dangerously close. his eyes bore into yours, heat radiating off his body. the movement is slight, jisung moving in closer, lips parted.

a knock reminds you of where you are, who you're with, where you're supposed to be going. you break apart.

"i forgot felix was coming here," jisung pouts, leaving to get the door, heart beating just as fast a your own.

i hope you don't mind, i hope you don't mind that i put down in words...

the day finally comes where jisung shows you the lyrics to the song he's been writing. there's not a lot so far, being busy with the tour and all, but enough to feel a deep sadness lie in the pit of your stomach; it's a love song.

"it's... it's beautiful ji," you blink back tears, not wanting him to see. "whoever you wrote this for... they're very lucky."

"if anyone's lucky it's me," he says with a sigh. your back is turned to him, so you don't see the hearts in his eyes, don't feel the way his heart skips a beat when you lean back into him, back against his chest. "she makes me feel... like i could do anything."

he presses a kiss to your temple, and the tears well again.

"she doesn't even realize what she does to me," he says, tone serious. "or how amazing she is, how smart she is. she's a super hard worker, almost too hard, and that's coming from me," he chuckles, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "and her laugh? god, her laugh. you know, i thought i was annoying y- um, her, until she laughed so hard chocolate milk came out of her nose because of some stupid joke i made."

no way, you think, he doesn't mean-

...how wonderful life is while you're in the world

but he did.

that night, you didn't confess, just simply looked at him, eyes understanding. nothing happened, not physically at least, both still too scared to make a move even with the unsaid confession hanging heavy in the air, but something changed.

you were closer than ever, limbs entangled during movie nights, countless "friend dates", endless teasing from the others more persistent. the universe was pushing you together; why was it all so scary? although you were sure he felt the same, you couldn't act upon it. what about the media? and if not that, what about your conflicting schedules? a text pulled you away from those thoughts.

hannie bby - new song up soon !!!!!! ur gonna listen right??

y/n - nah. don't feel like it

hannie bby - WHAT

hannie bby - i mean i guess if you don't want to that's fine you don't have to. it meant a lot to me though but i understand

y/n - i was joking !!!!!

hannie bby - don't scare me like that

y/n - i have yt open rn. just waiting for the countdown

hannie bby - :)

hannie bby - i wasn't going to say until after

hannie bby - but this song is inspired by you

even more curious now, you wait anxiously for the video to start. 3.. 2.. 1.. it plays. it's slow at first, an extremely familiar tune playing in your ears. the lyrics are about love and fear; the fear of love. by the end your eyes have grown watery, almost missing jisungs incoming call.

"what did you think?"

the tears fall. "come over."

within twenty minutes, there's a knock on your door. he stares at your wet cheeks when you open the door, his hands on your face in an instant. warmth, connection. jisung kicks the door shut as you back up into your humble apartment, your arms around his neck. no words are said as he turns you around, hands slowly finding their way down to your waist, your back against the now closed door. your faces are close, breath intermingling.

"kiss me."

and he does.

he does and kissing him is an explosion.

his lips are soft, careful, gentle, grip on your waist tightening ever so slightly. your fingers find their way into his hair, lost in the feeling of him against you, chest to chest. when he pulls away, it's brief, you pulling him back more fiercely than intended. a surge of confidence, his tongue brushes against your bottom lip. you let him in, teeth knocking into each other. another heated moment passes before you pull away again, catching your breath. your lips are swollen, pink, his matching and eyes blown out.

"i take it you liked the song?"

"loved it."

he breathes out a laugh, hand caressing your cheek lightly, corner of his mouth twitching upward in a smirk. it doesn't last long. jisung clears his throat, looking down. his hands take yours.

"if i said i loved you-"

"say it," you take a hand away to lift his chin up.

his eyes meet yours. "i love you. ever since we met, i've loved you."

"i love you too," you smile. "more than words can describe."

he leans in again.

-

-> notes ♡ birthday gift for my love @tfshouldidohere bc i can't see u physically. i love u so much. like so much. like an insane amount you have no idea. i really hope you enjoyed this :3 have THE best birthday ever, i love you i love you i love you <333 💙💗🤎💙💗🤎💙💗🤎💙💗🤎💙💗🤎💙💗🤎💙💗🤎💙💗🤎

-> taglist ♡ @chaeryred @toplinelix @channie-143

[justkidneying]

When to Punch Someone in the Throat (probably never)

I see throat punches in media sometimes, and I wanted to explain why this is such a devastating (and illegal) move. Throat punches are no joke. I've always been taught that in the same way you would never point a gun at something you don't want to kill, you would never punch someone in the throat that you didn't want to kill.

Structure of the throat: the anterior part of the throat is very tender and unprotected. Out front you have the trachea, and behind that you have the esophagus. The thyroid cartilage (this is your Adam's apple) sits at the level of your voice box (larynx). About an inch above that, usually hiding up in your jawline, is the hyoid bone.

The Hyoid Bone: this is a horseshoe-shaped bone that freely sits in the anterior part of the neck (it's not connected to any other bone). It protects the airway, helps maintain neck posture, and assists with chewing, tongue movement, swallowing, and speaking. It's really bad to fracture this bone.

Throat Trauma: with any anterior neck trauma, there is going to be a lot of bruising (ecchymosis) and swelling (edema) in the laryngeal tissue. This swelling can compromise the airway, and the person can literally just die from that. If the force is in the right place and great enough, the hyoid bone will fracture. The bone will usually be fractured in several places. This is likely to also cause asphyxiation. You may also see hemoptysis (coughing up blood).

*I want to note that in strangulation injuries, the hyoid bone is commonly fractured. However, it's only found in 1/3 of homicides from strangulation. *

Timeline: okay, so obviously, the person may just grab their throat, choke, and die. But do you wanna know the part that freaks me out? The fact that patients can be asymptomatic for up to 72 hours (THREE FUCKING DAYS!!!). That's scary because the patient can be fine, they think they just have some bruising and a little swelling, then their throat starts spasming and they die of asphyxiation (crazy, right??).

Fighting: okay, back to fighting. Throat punches are not allowed in any combat sport, not even in no-holds barred (unless it's some weird kumite where you can kill your opponent). But, in normal combat sport this doesn't usually even happen on accident, because most people 1) tuck their chin and 2) know not to EVER punch someone in the neck. If it does happen, people will probably talk about it (like when a rabbit punch is thrown).

The only time I have seen a throat punch is with a kids' class (like 4-8 year olds) and that habit was quickly corrected. I think the only time it is ever appropriate would be in a life-or-death situation, but depending on the laws in your area I have no idea if it would be legal then (because you're probably going to kill that person).

Anyways, main point: don't punch people in the throat, like, ever. They may die, even if it is three days later.

[morganski-19]

Robin takes the bag of frozen peas from Steve with a silent thank you. Wrapping it with a tea towel and resting it gently against her throat. Hoping that the swelling would go down and the bruise would fade fast, even though she knew that it wouldn't.

It could be worse. She could have broken bones like Max or torn skin like Steve and Eddie. She could have stopped being able to breathe for more than a few seconds. She could be dead.

Instead, here she is nursing her wounds, as they were, with her best friend who is severely worse than her looking after her. Not in a hospital, but in his house. Because her parents don't need to know this happened to her. The same way she hid the burns from the rope that bound her wrists in the bunker. She'll hide this from them too.

Steve has his own frozen bag of vegetables to his neck, leaning back on the couch to alleviate some of the pressure on his abdomen. Heavily bandaged abdomen. They probably should have gone to a hospital, seen if he needed stitches. But the stubborn asshole didn't want to go, so they didn't. Claimed he could take care of it himself. He always did.

"Is this what it's like?" Robin asks, voice raspy and weak. "Frozen vegetables and empty houses. No doctors hovering over you or government agents secretly experimenting on you."

Steve lets out a small grunt, shifting himself to look at her better. "Pretty much."

Robin snorts, wincing a bit when she does. "Now I know what the great Steve Harrington uses as a cure after battle. Frozen vegetables. What would the people say?"

"That I should go to a hospital, probably," he replies, exhausted.

"At least there's no concussion this time. Or black eye. Nothing messing up this pretty face," she pokes his cheek gently. "You should really see someone about the bites though. Make sure they're not infected."

Steve tries to swallow without wincing. "I know. Just needed a moment to breathe. Too many people at hospitals."

She knows what he means. After the past week, they needed a night before the craziness continued. Until life was forced to move without them wanting it to. Where the consequences came and reality sat in. Where people almost lost were slowly brought back, and they were forced to move on like nothing happened.

They had the scars to remind them. The nightmares. The anxieties that never went away. Their lives were changed. Things can't just revert back to the factory setting.

"How have you done this four times?" Robin asks without really wanting to know the answer. "I can barely wrap my head around doing it twice, let alone four."

"The first time didn't really count," he mumbles. "I just came in at the end. As for the others, you just get used to it. Weird shit shows up, you hit it with something, and it goes away. Until it doesn't."

Robin lets out a long breath. "Sounds like shit."

"It is." His eyes fight to stay open, head halfway fallen onto her shoulder.

"I'll take first watch, you need your sleep." She'll probably crash right after him, but he didn't need to know that. She could be the strong one for a second if it meant he could rest.

Steve takes a deep breath. "You sure."

Robin grabs his wrist, absentmindedly feeling for his pulse. Half relieved when it still thumps under her fingers at a normal rhythm. "Yeah. Get some sleep, you deserve it."

"Thanks. Wake me up if anything happens." He barely finishes the last sentence, eyes finally closing and breaths slowing to a soft, even pace. Robin still able to feel the thumping of his veins through her fingers.

For a brief moment, she can pretend that this is all normal. That this was just a normal night where she and her best friend fell asleep on the couch after watching a movie. After a totally normal night of fun, that didn't risk their lives.

Where there wasn't a bat full of nails resting against the coffee table. Or an ax somewhere in the kitchen waiting to be cleaned. Where she isn't counting the seconds between his breaths or making sure his heart is still pumping. Making sure he's still alive.

Where she'd be able to fall asleep and not risk waking up screaming. Covered in sweat and barely able to breathe. Her wrists wouldn't hurt and her throat wouldn't burn with every breath.

The now warm bag of peas falls off her neck as she leans back. She takes it off and places it to the side, along with Steve's. Pulls him a little closer so he knows that he's not alone. And she does too.

Then finally, she falls asleep. Hoping tomorrow the sun will rise on a better day than today. Time will move on and people will get better. And she'll never have to go through this again.

[oneforthemunny]

Mafia Eddie

Word is “gentle”

Smut

minors dni 18+

"Easy, easy, baby." Eddie's voice rasped, soft and husky, a gentle hand on your shoulders, squeezing lightly. "You don't have to rush. What're you in a hurry for?"

Your cheeks flushed, heat tingling and spreading down your neck. "Sorry." You muttered, looking down, away from his gaze. It could be so intense at times, made you feel so vulnerable, like he could see right through you.

"It's alright, sweetheart." Eddie purred, tone dropping in a soft coo that had your head swimming, dizzy with pure adoration. "Just take it slow, alright? No rush here." His hands moved over yours, guiding yours slowly, undoing his belt.

Your heart pounded, beating straight to your core. "We can go slow. Be gentle with me, alright? Wanna fuck you sweet."

Your mouth pooled with spit, biting back a shudder that tore through your body at his words. You'd hooked up before, always slow, always sweet. You thought Eddie might want a change, something rougher, faster- you didn't want him to get bored.

"Look at me." Eddie commanded lightly, your head tilting, looking at him through long lashes that drove him wild. "Can you do that f'me? Do it slow? Gentle?"

Your head nodded, tongue swelling dumbly in your mouth, catching your breath and words. "Let me hear you. Wanna hear you, honey." Eddie's thumb brushed over your cheek bone, tracing over your bottom lip. "Can you do that? Be gentle?"

"Yes." You squeaked, thighs rubbing and pressing together. "I-I can be gentle."

"I know you can." Eddie beamed, lips curling in a small smile that had you flooded with heat, warm praise. His hand reached into his boxers, pulling out his length, pumping it a few times in front of you.

His ego swelled, watching the way your eyes dropped, tongue running over your bottom lip at the sight.

"Go ahead." Eddie nodded when your eyes rounded back to him. "Go slow. Take your time. Got all night, baby." He sighed, relaxing into the couch when your hands pumped him, pressing soft kisses along his shaft.

[love-toxin]

hyrule spice <3 (rauru, byrne, tauro, link)

(general cws: graphic smut, fem/afab pronouns, breeding, knotting, hylian/zonai relations, pet names/name calling, dirty talk, degradation, squirting, fingering, overstim, bondage, unprotected sex, rough sex)

rauru of hyrule

Rauru never falters, never hesitates. He wants you and you're his. There's no fighting it--there simply can't be any doubt that you have his love.

But as the king of Hyrule, he has a duty to fulfill. Marriage, family, continuance of the royal bloodline...you understand, don't you? Even as a Hylian, you must. As a man and a Zonai, he has needs.

One of those needs, especially when faced with a pretty Hylian like yourself, is to breed.

"Ah, ah, ah--ahnnnngh-!" Is it you now, is it him? Who even cares at this point, you're basically the same being by now; bodies intertwined and moving in unison, every shuffle dictated by Rauru's massive Zonaite body towering over yours. Both his furry, clawed hands rest over yours, palms dwarfing your tiny Hylian fingers as he plants his body firmly into every thrust. The thin, fuzzy layer of hair that protects his cock is now coated in your arousal, sticky and slick from the pounding you've taken so all that rings in your ears is a hefty plap plap plap from behind as you take his thrusts.

Rauru once apologized to you, when you met, about his "off-putting" appearance. His ears, his claws, his snout that makes it difficult to kiss, his fur and his tail...he doesn't apologize for it anymore. He knows now that he doesn't have to, not when he gives you treatment like this.

"Forward," He snarls into your ear, gone mad with the weight of his lust and the frenzy of his mid-month heat. His teeth could rip the flesh from your bones, yet even in this state he uses them only to pierce the sweetest of claiming bites into your throat and down your spine. "Bend...until you break."

He can't be satiated by thought alone. Nor even the touch of his own hands, or a concubine if he owned one. It can only be you. Only your soft, squishy flesh rubbing up against his fur, your hands pinned beneath his claws, and your womb pierced on the tip of his thick, knot-heavy cock that's just begging to lock itself within your cunt and never let go.

Those claws dig painfully into your back, yet it doesn't dissuade you, and he loves that. He loves that at the end of the day, you'll submit to your king as he forces you to the sheets and pins your hips under his, his knot swelling and swelling until he finally breaches that soft place and all becomes right with the world. Through the pain you still adore him, and through the pleasure even more so.

Now, it's just a matter of soothing your bruised, marked-up body with his voice and his doting touch, with kisses and whispers of love and promises of all the gorgeous gifts he's going to present to you, as a token of gratitude for allowing the first of the Zonai to mate with the first Hylian--and person--he's ever truly loved.

byrne the dueling spirit

One hundred years. One hundred years of hard labour, training, and agony. Loneliness and isolation and anger, fury building itself up and up and up until it boils, begging to be let out on anyone close enough to make a decent punching bag.

Byrne doesn't know love. Never has, never feels like he ever will--he only knows pain and weakness, the desire to grow stronger clawing at him like a ravenous dog. Maybe that's why he finally lets loose on you. You were within reach. Never said no, never gave him anything but a smile.

And you're regretting it now, he bets. Because you have a muscled, weighty beast of a man on top of you, and you can feel the way he's learning this kind of touch for the first time as well as you can see clouds in the sky.

Or could, if you didn't have your face forced into your pillow, back arched so deeply the sweat pools like a puddle in the dip of your back. And it shakes and spills with the creaking of your bedframe, your down mattress squealing for mercy as Byrne forces you down and bullies your pussy into submission.

"Shut up." He groans, as if his bandana hasn't been balled up and stuffed into your mouth to quiet your incessant noises. If he didn't like you, he wouldn't say anything. But he can't help but tease you...can't help but make you wish you'd never invited him back to your house in the first place. "....Useless bitch." He grumbles, the smirk on his face going unnoticed as your lust-numbed brain leaks out your ears. Your pussy's cute, but it won't let him go--and even when he tries, your body just sucks him back in like you can't go a minute without being fucked.

But it just gives him the chance to put that metal arm to good use. It isn't rubbing or pinching he uses to his advantage, but a cold, hard, wet slap against your clit that finally shocks you enough to let him go--just barely enough to slide out before you clench down on the tip, though, and your muscles won't loosen as if you've been made to have a vice grip most inconveniently. He's gotta go. "Can't stick around fucking you all day. Let go."

Pop. With a deep, clingy squelch, he's finally pulled free from your soaking wet, tight as hell abyss, contrary to your whines and squirmy wiggling that beg him sweetly for more. To stay.

You're pretty and all. He likes you, and he doesn't like anyone. But he can't stay....and you can't get too attached to him, or else you're just gonna end up heartbroken.

But, maybe...maybe he can spare you a little dignity and make you finish. He thinks as he slides his cockhead through your folds again, unaware of just how hard he's falling in love as he sinks back in.

tauro the scholar

Your scholar is a nightmare because he won't let anything just lie. He needs answers. Evidence. Scientific proof. He needs logic and deciphered clues to figure out life's greatest mysteries.

Hence why he's doing today's case study on your soft, cute, and sensitive little pussy.

"Subject-responds-to-stimuli-even-under-duress," He speaks softly as his free hand scribbles out his notes on the pad between his feet, his fingers on the other hand buried deep within your twitching, stretched pussy lips. The 'stimuli' being him, and 'duress'....well, emotional duress counts. Especially when you've orgasmed 8 times today. "I believe in you, baby." Tauro replies cheerfully to your fucked-out groans, a smile permanently etched on his lips as he curls his fingers deep into your cervix. "I can make you ejaculate today! We're almost there!"

Somehow the sterile language he likes to use--which would normally be a bit of a mood killer in bed--just doesn't faze you anymore with Tauro. He's a bit of a kook, a cute airhead with the kind of knowledge the Sheikah themselves would kill for. A sweet, silly man who likes to tease.

A man who isn't intimidated by the pulses of your pussy nor the jerk of your hips as the pressure pushes down on your bladder, who positions his face right up close between your legs despite you gasping out that you feel like you're gonna pee. Embarrassment is nothing to him.

"That's what it's supposed to feel like."

He growls with an eager grin, fucking your cunt even faster with those thick fingers that's toe-curling but not yet cusping on painful. The bristly hairs on his freshly-shaved chin rub your soaked skin as he leans in, laving his huge, hot tongue over your tortured clit that's been messed with like a hot button all day today.

It's only when your shaking hips and arched back come to a standstill that he's finally satisfied--drenched in your juices, his face glistening as he talks you through and urges you to "let it all out baby, give everything to me" until you're squirting just like he told you he'd make you do for him.

Rarely have you seen such satisfaction on his face upon finding the answer he was looking for. Each tremor comes as he eases more out of you, every gasp and spurt of fluid getting him more excited about the results. You drench him from head to lap and he couldn't be more ecstatic, licking every bit he can get off his fingers and his palm as he looks up at you through hooded eyes.

"Now..." He pants, hair slicked down and tongue lolling out of his mouth as he laps up the droplets sticking to your folds as you tremble. "...Let's see if you can do that again, hm?"

link the hero

Link needs very few, simple things in life to coexist with reality. Those are primarily food, warmth, sunshine...and sex.

Poor hero. All he needs is an orgasm or two to get him back into the fight when he's exhausted from his toils. That's not so much to ask for, right?

That's where you come in. Such a pretty thing--and such a nice girl to help him out when he's in need. Link can show up on your doorstep night or day, rain or shine, healthy or half-dead, and to see you let him in and give him a place to put his feet up makes him feel like he's in love.

And whatever ails him is sure to clear up with a dose of your sweet, slick pussy that he swears was moulded just for him.

"Ha...ha...hah, ah-!" Link huffs out as he comes to a close again, hips bucking violently from below as he lets those animal instincts run wild with you. He can't be stopped, hence why you have to use those handy Lynel-silver shackles to cuff him to your bed, all so he won't break free in the heat of the moment and start fucking you rabidly on the floor of your cottage. Not like that's ever happened before, and he accidentally traumatized your milkman when he came knocking on the door....

"D-Don't strain, Link..." You gasp, his cum flooding down your thighs from hours upon hours of rabid coming-home-from-battle sex. "You'll hurt yourself."

Link doesn't talk much as it is, but the wobbly grin and the rolling back of his eyes in his head serves well enough to say what he thinks about that sentiment. Don't care. Need to blow my load. That's what's written all over his expression, and you can't say you're much surprised...or disappointed.

"Fine," You sigh, swirling your hips in deep circles to slow his thrusts--and to remind him of how much he's at your mercy now, no matter how strong of a warrior he is out on the field of battle. Your chuckle causes his back to arch up off the bed, his wrists pulling hard at the cuffs while his heart nearly beats out of his chest. "Then be a good boy and cum already. I've got a mess to clean up."

Link growls, that feral growl that only comes out when he's really, desperately in need of release. He starts thrusting more violently, his hips barely meeting the mattress anymore as he chases that pleasure against your womb--against that blasted little wall that feels like heaven but constantly stops him from shooting ropes right into the source of that ecstasy he loves. Maybe one day.

For now, it only stops once you've had your cervix appropriately bruised, and he's made you slump over him in a panting, gasping mess as his seed flows out of you and into his sweaty lap. Maybe he doesn't need Hyrule, Hylia's blessing, or the Master Sword, or anything anymore.

Maybe all he needs in this world is you.