#felt like drawing stretch marks too s all...

[bielbunny]

I'm still drawing my fighting game mains just this time being a lil more deranged about it. Clairen's not quite in fighting shape yet but she got some time to figure that one out

[nanamiscocksleeve]

May I request a situation where Kento suddenly turns corrupt in a way that he loses all respect and simply wants to sexually take advantage of fem!reader? Just fucking her rough like a rag doll. Whether it be a curse or aphrodisiac (that can be up to your amazing imagination) But of course, there’s consent and miss reader has a ball with it.

Ohhhh! This is what I needed to break back into writing JJK. But I feel like there's defiinitely some work out there where Kento rough fucks his s/o thanks to a curse or aphrodisiac and I was struggling to write something that felt fresh. This might be a little softer than what was asked because while I'm ok with writing degradation, I think Kento would struggle quite a bit with this.

I hope I've done this justice!

Warnings: MDNI, degradation, derogatory name calling, CNC, objectification, dacryphilia, free use, rough sex, S&M

Use Me

It's a quiet evening as your husband brings you a warm cup of coffee, pressing a kiss to you head as he sits next to you. He stretches and lets out a breath, relishing the peace, and puts an arm around you, drawing you closer for comfort. You sip quietly and appear lost in thought. Ever observant, Kento quirks an eyebrow at you.

"Something on your mind?" To his surprise, your eyes flick up to his over the coffee cup and a blush starts to dust over your cheeks and nose. "What's with that face?" Kento smiles, flattered at the sight and puts a hand on your wrist to lower the coffee cup. Your lips twist into an embarrassed smile and you shake your head, looking away.

"It's nothing I was just thinking about something." You sip and put the mug down on the table. Kento notices the way you hold yourself, the slight tension in your shoulders and the way your eyes look like you want to divulge a secret but were unsure if you should do so. The hand on your wrist slides and he lays his large, warm, hand over yours.

"What is it sweetheart?" He brushes away some stray strands of hair from your face. You bite your lip doubtfully, then decide to spill the beans. "Kento, there's something I want us to...try." You say in a strange tone, like you're still weighing the cons. Kento nods, encouraging you to go on.

"It's...related to sex."

This catches his interest. "Oh?"

"Yeah. It might not be something you're into."

"Try me." He reassuringly pulls you against him, allowing you a grateful moment of privacy as you hide your face in his neck. You clear your throat and continue.

"I want you to take advantage of me. Sexually."

"Am I not already doing that?" Kento jokes but you shake your head, your hair tickling his skin.

"I mean...I want to be used. Objectified. Degraded. Made to feel like I'm just a toy for your entertainment." You pause and he feels you take in a deep breath before continuing. "I basically want you to reduce me to being holes that you use for your pleasure and nothing more."

Kento's heart pounds in his chest as you word your request. "You want me to use you like that?"

"Yeah. And like, I don't want you to be gentle either. I want you to be rough. Like leave bite marks all over me. Don't have sex with me. Fuck me. Roughly. Hard." The blood in his veins grows hot and he pets your hair.

"Are you sure?"

"It's something I always wanted to try. Not that I don't like how it is now. But. I didn't know how to ask." You feel his lips nuzzle your ear and his hands reassuringly stroke your back.

"Sweetheart you know I'm willing to try a lot of things. But I never want to compromise your safety or well-being. I can be rough if you want. But you need to tell me if it's too much. I can't stand the thought of doing something that'll hurt you."

"You won't hurt me. And we have our safe word. I promise to use it." There's a moment of silence as Kento imagines how this would go. You're his favorite person in the whole world, whom he loves and respects. But at the same time, this idea has him incredibly aroused, the thought of using you to his will and forcing you to submit to debauched acts that he's never allowed himself to think about.

He presses another soft kiss to your forehead.

"If it'll make you happy then all right."

--------

You whimper as Kento bites your lower lip hard enough to draw blood, wiping away the blotch with his thumb. He's unrecognizable to you. You've only seen him like before for a specific scenario; when he's hunting down a curse. It sends a skitter of fear through you but also brings forth a strong rush of arousal that makes your cunt clench in need.

"Now remember slut, you're mine to be used. And I'm only letting you rest after I've fucked and filled you to my satisfaction. And if I hear you complaining, know that I have better uses for that mouth. Now on your knees."

You kneel, keeping your eyes trained on the floor, feeling your heart pounding at what was about to happen. Kento roughly yanks your head up by your hair. "Open."

You part your lips then gasp as he shoves his cock without warning, sliding the hard flesh down your throat. You try to relax your muscles, choking in relief as he comes up then repeats the action. You're on the verge of gagging before he gives you reprieve. Saliva drips from your mouth as he gathers your hair and pushes back in, holding you firmly in place until your nose hits his pubes before thursting forcefully, grunting at the slickness of your wet, willing mouth.

You feel your breathless from the effort of keeping him in your mouth, feeling him nearly touching the entrance to your throat, tears streaming from your eyes as you struggle to accomodate all of him. When he finally pulls out you take in a thankful breath of air, spluttering from the freedom.

"Pathetic. Can't even deepthroat cock. What good are you?" His hands wrap around your throat just hard enough to give you that dizzying light-headed feeling as your brain is deprived of air before letting go. He pauses, watching you writhe on the floor to catch your breath. Once it steadies, he commands you.

"Crawl."

Turned on and feeling debased, you get on your hands and knees and start crawling on the floor, your ass jiggling with each movement that you make. You hear footsteps then squeal as Kento's hand slaps the soft flesh. You freeze as the sting ripples through you before Kento jerks your head back by your hair.

"I didn't say to stop crawling. Stupid whore. Who said you can stop just because you felt a little pain?" He brings his hand down repeatedly as you pathetically begin to crawl again, sniffing as you go.

"Crying when you know this all you're good for? Stop acting like you're above this." He leaves your ass smarting, red and pulsing from his abuse. His calloused hands grab your fleshy cheeks and spread them apart and he chuckles darkly. "Don't tell me you're turned on."

You whimper as you feel him insert a finger into your moist hole, probing forcefully before withdrawing. "Just when I thought you could sink no lower. You really are nothing but a basic piece of meat just hoping a cock will fill you and make you feel like you have a purpose."

His finger withdraws and he pulls you up abruptly, his hands harshly squeezing your breasts, pinching your nipples aggressively and earning a keening noise from you, your whole body feeling a sensitive blob. He twists and pulls, and you squirm in his grasp, causing him to growl and grip your chin, his fingers digging into your skin.

"Stop acting like you want to escape." He firmly spanks your pussy and your body jolts from the surprise, a cry leaving you. "You crave this. Want this. Because deep down, you know there's nothing more you want than to be a glorified fucktoy. That's all. You're a vessel to hold my cum, if I decide you're worthy enough to receive it."

He pushes one of your breasts up to his mouth and suckles roughly and you can feel the edges of his teeth skimming along the sensitive peaks. Kento releases it and does the same for the other, and just when your senses start to calm down, he sinks his teeth into the nipple, just hard enough for you make a noise of pain. He smirks.

"Oh. So you do have a limit." He bites the other nipple with similar force and you let out a broken sob. "Tsk. You're not very good at being a fucktoy are you?"

He shoves you to the bed and you fall on the soft mattress. You hear the clink of chains and see him securing handcuffs around your ankles before securing the free ends to the bedposts, angling your legs so that they're spread apart wide. Your wet pussy is exposed to his feral eyes and he licks his lips at the sight of the glistening membranes. He flicks your clit cruelly, enjoying the way you twitch and struggle.

"Oh you're dumb aren't you? Haven't you learned what happens when you try to avoid me?" He spanks your clit again, and your eyes roll back into your head as you try to separate the confusing blur of pain and pleasure that shoots through you body.

"Why is it that the more pain I give you, the wetter your dumb whore cunt gets?" The resounding echo of his palm on your wet folds gets louder with each slap until your clit is swollen and red from the repeated blows.

"Look at that. You actually want more after all that." Before you can process what's happening, Kento shifts on the bed and plunges his hard cock into your pussy. The stretch makes you sob because you weren't quite ready for him, the push slightly painful, but as you adjust to him, the feeling fades. His movements are harsh and selfish, swiftly bottoming out each time and hitting your cervix, setting a brutal pace that has you feeling like you might black out.

You let out a shocked squeak as his thumb starts to manhandle your clit, brushing over it in savage strokes that bring you dangerously close to the edge. Strings of incoherent noises spill from your lips, sounding more and more animalistic as your brain turns off all rational thought and begins to fill with need. You just wanted to orgasm, then have the satisfaction of Kento's seed filling your wet channel, to feel him soften inside you before the next round....

You let a quivering wail as your orgasm hits and Kento huffs in satisfaction as he feels your walls clenching him as you cum. Your feet thrash against their restraints as the ripple of orgasmic pleasure rocks your body. "You can't help it can you? Being a cumslut?"

His hips start to pick up pace and slam into you as he chases his orgasm, his breathing becoming ragged, hands digging into your skin hard enough to leave bruises as he uses your hole to satisfy the raging, primal need that's fuelling his actions. His movements become sloppy and the edges of his vision start to blur.

"Here it comes. Your reward. Try not to spend it all in once place." With a final thrust, thick ropes of cum start to fill your insides and he shudders with the satisfaction. A moment passes before he pulls out of you, leaking his seed as he withdraws. You lay spent and exhausted on the bed.

Kento finally breaks character and crouches over you. "You didn't use your safe word."

"I didn't need to."

© nanamiscocksleeve original work | no copying, plagiarizing or translating

[imsilay]

SOAR pt.2

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NSFW +18 MDNI cw: smut, kidnapping, obsessive behavior, fem!reader, König is a fucking delusional, noncon, Stockholm Syndrome. (idk guys it’s more romantic? than i wanted it to be lmao) (and another warning that this chapter might feel different from the first chapter. just saying :> )

word count: 1.7k

summary: Your sweet captor König fucking you after coming back to home from a long mission.

art cr: yashk_pucyet on twt

König was a man of stamina. He made sure you knew it in the first months that he kidnapped you. And after he came back from deployments, he would make sure you knew he wasn’t a man to be satisfied with just one round. He was your husband after all. He should show his wife that he’s the only one that she needed, that was what he was thinking when he pulled you up by your calves and put them onto his shoulders as he pushed his thick cock into your perfect pussy. His perfect pussy. You were his wife so he had all the right to claim you as his. All of you. All of his. “Ich habe das so sehr vermisst.” (I missed this so much.) he grunted as his hips continued its overwhelming pace.

The way your eyes rolled back and walls clenched tightly around his shaft made him bite onto his lower lip so he wouldn’t let out the moan that was threatening to slip away from his lips. “So fucking cute, Maus.” he cooed when you let out the most beautiful moans and whimpers. The sound of your begging and pleading like ‘stop’, ’s too much’, ‘can’t take it’ fall on deaf ears. All he could hear was the lewd sounds of your dripping cunt. And the way your pussy milked him was enough to convince him to continue. But of course he was still sweet enough to draw tight circles on your clit when he felt you get closer to your orgasm. He brought one if his hands down between your thighs as the other kept your legs on his shoulders. “Let go f’me, Maus. It feels good isn’t it? As much as you try to deny it you missed this cock more than me. Did i made you addicted to this cock? Such a slutty wife. My slutty wife.” and of course he was mean. His degrading words went straight to your pussy. The pleasure, the way he stretched your poor pussy, the way his tip hit your most delicious spots were too overwhelming. You felt like the world’s spinning when he bit the soft skin of your calves. He quickly kissed and licked the new mark which found it’s place among the others. With one hard thrust his tip kissed your cervix and made your vision go white when you cum around his thick cock. Your thighs trembled and you let out a soft cry as you cum. “Scheiße.” He hissed. Pussy squeezing him so tight, milking and begging for his cum. Who he was to not give it to his sweet girl. His beautiful wife. “Gonna cum in you süßes Mädchen.” he purred as the movement of his hips became more desperate. The thought of cumming inside your greedy cunt, claiming you with his cum deep inside your cunt, brought him to the edge. So he finished deep inside you, painting your walls with his seeds. Just like how he did when you ride him. The relief and contentment he felt afterwards was something else. Something that made him feel like a caveman. A man who behaves primitive and rough. “I’m sorry, Maus.” he cooed when he finally noticed your tear stained face. He turned his head to side and closed his eyes when he pressed his lips onto the skin of your legs. “Are you mad at me?” he mumbled softly with all his innocence. He pulled his cock out and collapsed on top of you, so you couldn’t look away from him or try to leave his side. “Look at me, Maus. Du gehst nirgendwohin.” (You’re not going anywhere.) his lengthy and calloused fingers found your chin to make you look into his eyes. He hated when you got upset with him. His heart ached and anxiety engulfed his brain whenever you avoided him. It wasn’t like you could ever leave him. Oh he wouldn’t let you. He just needed you so much. His need and desperation for you never ended.

In the other hand, there you were, so sore from his harshness and endless desire for you. You felt like crying again as he softly let go of your chin, deciding that he was already too harsh on you today, and buried his head into your neck. He was heavy. God he was like 130 kilograms and he was crushing your poor delicate body into mattress. Not that he cared if you were uncomfortable. He just wanted to soothe you with the way he thought would work. His actions were confusing you, making you doubt yourself whenever he got so tender and soft with you. Like now. He was nuzzling and murmuring into your neck, kissing and licking the soft skin, breathing in your addictive scent and marking you by sucking bruises onto your throat… He was melted onto your body, like he didn’t fucked you senseless a minute ago. “Was i too rough again?” he finally spoke again, making you sob and nod quietly. All the overwhelming feelings finally getting to you. “Aww poor baby. That was why i wanted you to ride me.” Yeah, like you had had the energy for it after doing it once already. König knew he was hard in bed. Brutal even. He knew if he had his hands on you he would manhandle you into every position he wanted and he wouldn’t think if it hurt you. You see, he was a soldier, he didn’t knew how to be soft. He didn’t knew how to calm down people. When he had his cock in you and you weren’t on top of him -in control- he would only think the ways to go deeper inside your welcoming warmth. Like the caveman he felt. “I will make it up to you, Meine Königin. How about a hot bath?” he suggested as his fingers dug into your messy hair and started to caress it tenderly. Even if he was tired from the work he still wanted to keep his beautiful wife content and happy. You wanted to deny him, to push him of off your sore body and curse at him. Maybe you could hit him across the face if you had the energy. But all you could do was give him another tiny nod. “That’s my beautiful wife.” he smiled so brightly like you just gave him the world. Despite keeping you forcefully in his home, in his bed, in his arms, you couldn’t deny the trust he imbued into your mind.

His large arms wrapped around your body after he pressed a last lingering kiss on your neck. He gently lifted you up and made you wrap your legs around his waist. Once he was sure you were secured in his strong arms he got up from bed and carried you to the tub that he soon filled with warm water and some essences you like. Once everything was done he pulled your back against his chest and you couldn’t help but put your head back on his chest. “Enjoying yourself, Maus?” he chuckled lightly as you closed your eyes with a humm. The way his strong arms wrapped around you and his fingers massaged your sore muscles relaxed you further. “Feels good.” you mumbled, your voice just above whisper and he noted the way you sigh softly when his fingers brushed against the fresh marks on your thighs. You didn’t even wanted to open your eyes, you just wanted to enjoy how his fingers worked on your sore muscles and forget that it was your kidnapper who was holding you firmly against his body. Maybe, just maybe if you forgot that fact, living with him wouldn’t be that bad. And of course you had to bare with him claiming you as his wife and wanting you to call him your husband all the time. Yeah, that was annoying. But in total it wasn’t that bad. He wasn’t that bad. And maybe he was right when he told you that you didn’t needed anyone but him. He could provide for you, he could show affection and he wasn’t afraid to voice his love for you in every given chance. Unlike the men outside. Yeah, maybe if you just play with his rules you could be happier. He loved you after all. You were his little wife. And he was your husband. “What are you thinking?” he pressed a kiss on your temple when he saw your expression. What could you be thinking so hard? He had to know. He wanted to be inside your head constantly. When you didn’t answer, his mind starts to wonder. Why you weren’t answering him? Were you thinking of escaping again? Even after he fucked you this good and taking care of you? “Answer me.” his tone goes darker with the seconds you waste. His fingers squeezing your plush thighs unconsciously. “I- i was just thinking-“ a small cry left your lips when you flinched with the pain on your thighs. And of course he noticed. Like he noticed everything about you. So he let his grip loosen to let you speak. “I think i love you.” you said and felt his whole body tense behind your back. His whole body went stiff like he received a bullet into his chest. And it felt like it. He felt like his heart exploded and replaced with another one so it could beat this fast. You turned towards him to see his expression but what you saw got you more worried. His eyes were fixated on the wall of the bathroom and his mouth was agape. He looked like he was in a trance. “König?” you called his name but he just remained still. So you did the thing you wanted to do for a while and kissed him. He let out a small gasp but it short lived when he immediately grabbed you by the back of your neck and kept your head still so you couldn’t get away from his grip. Oh no, not anymore when he finally, truly got you. A low moan, more like a growl, left his lips when he finally had a taste of your delicious looking lips. Oh god it was like heaven. You were like heaven and now he couldn’t get enough of you. His hungry mouth captured yours with a desperate kiss. His used his free hand to press onto your chin to explore your mouth further. He was desperate for the new taste he got and he was determined to savor it until his last breath. You were his and he had to claim it with his kiss. There was no going back after giving him your delicious lips.

“Now that you kissed me, you can’t leave me anymore.”

a/n: please support me by reblogging, if you liked the content ofc <3 your comments also makes my day :* and i try to reply all of them :>

i just love this fic sm. i can’t get enough. a small chapter to thank you guys for:

THIS. ~(≧▽≦)/~ I WANT TO THANK YOU ALL FOR ALL THE LOVE AND SUPPORT YOU GUYS ARE MY DELULU BBGS <3

and can someone tell me why i love writing König while listening to Rammstein

[hearts-4-vicky]

I have this brainrot for gp!Wonyoung and sensitive reader! You’re so cute for her, you’d promise her that you can take her dick without her finger prepping you first but once she pushes her big dick into your tight cunt, you start to tear up!! :(( You want to be her good girl so you just lay there and let her dick stretch you out until you she was exhausted. She’d purposely overstimulate you, watching how your tears ran down your pretty face and how you were gasping and whiny out because it was too much for you making you squirt all over her pelvis!

ANON MY LOVE OMGGGGGG DOM WONYYYY IM GOING FERAL😍😍😍😍😍😍

warnings: g!pwonyoung, dom wonyoung, soft wonyoung then she switches up🙏😭, wonyoung whimpers!!!!, wony refers to reader as ynnie and some pet names, sensitive reader, sub reader, unprotected sex, wony has a BIG dick, degradation near the end, overstimulation, creampies, marking, breeding, boob grabbing, squirting, dacryphilia, dirty talk, tummy bulge, (first dom wony post😝)

how do u even write moans like idk how u describe them😭🙏

Wonyoung had always been scared of hurting you🥺she knows shes big and just wants you to feel good🫶🏼 so when she starts to rub your pussy, fingers ready to penetrate your hole, you hold her hand in place. Shes so worried that she crossed a boundary that you see her lips tremble as she looks back at you with wide, curious eyes!! “Is something wrong? Do you wanna stop? We don’t have to do this tonight!” sweet girl only cares for ur pleasure and was ready to get rid of her boner by herself 🥺 “No! I want this! but I don’t need prep, baby, I can handle it” you pull her closer, her boner resting against your inner thigh

“Are you sure? Not to brag but I’m pretty big, ynnie…” her hand finding your thigh, drawing shapes with the softest touch of her finger🥺 “Yes baby, I trust you, so please, fuck me til I can’t walk.” Wonyoung’s face grew red at your words! you’ve never said anything like that before! it got her dick harder if that was even possible😛 with a nod, she grabbed her dick out of her boxers and started rubbing herself on your waiting lips. she starts to push her cock in you, watching your expression change

Wonyoung thinks you’re so cute trying to take all of her! strained moans spilled out of your mouth as she was “pretty girl being s-so! mmgh- good for me! taking all of my cock in her t-tight lil cunt!” she moans, your tightness was on a whole other level, squeezing her dick👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩 you were getting too tight as she pushed more of her cock in you.🥺 “B-baby… fuck.. relax your body a bit- shit! so tight…” you steady your breathing, giving wonyoung more space to move. she looks down to your pussy, seeing how tiny it was compared to her throbbing cock, turning her on even more😍

finally getting her full length in, you let out a moan👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩 her tip kisses your cervix😛with each breath she took, she moved a bit which nearly had you in tears ( in a good say i SWEAR🙏🙏🙏🙏)

She pulls her hips back slowly, before pushing forward again faster💥💥💥 her pace quickens as your whines and moans got louder. the sound of her balls slapping against your ass had gotten louder and more frequent😛 wony was a moaning mess as well, your cunt was still tight as fuck, but not to the point where it hurt. every thrust felt like it would be her last, every clench of your pussy around her cock nearly brought her over the edge😍 but she wanted you to cum first, your pleasure was her priority. she needed to distract herself with something

Leaning down to your neck, she presses kisses all over🥺 finding you sweet spot, she gives it kitten licks, before full on making out with your neck💀 drilling her dick inside of you as if she was a virgin getting off for the first time (crazy🤯🤯🤯🤯) your whines and moans soon drowned out the wet slapping sound and wonyoungs moans as well👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩 “f-fuck! wonyoung PLEASE!! ah! I-I’m close!” you felt a knot in your stomach, it got tighter with each slam of her dick in your cunt🔥 “Me too! Cum for me baby! Shit!-“ you were squirming under her, back arched and squirting while nearly blacking out🥺 wony let herself shoot all of her warm load into your needy pussy, moving her lips to yours and initiating a passionate kiss💋😛 riding both your highs came to a stop, both of you in a daze

“Fuck wony, that was so goo-“

“You think we’re done?”

Wonyoung started to thrust herself back into you slowly

Some rounds later n you came a total of 10 times (praying for u babes🙏) nearly passing out with every orgasm😭 wonyoung had basically made your pussy remember the shape of her dick, to the point no one else could enter, only her😍 wony never slowed down her pace, giving you harder thrusts whenever she came🥺 “w-wony!! mm ha! hurts!! c-can’t take anymoreeeE!” your sobs grew louder, turning into squeals as wonyoung started jackhammering into your abused cunt🥺🥺🥺🥺 your face full of your tears, vision blurry as your crying “You look so fuck- p-pretty right now, my love. My personal, gah! fucktoy” wonyoung takes notice of how you clench around her after saying that, so she tries something. quickening her pace a bit, she leans down to your ear, moving her hands to your tits to use them as handles

“Oh? you like that? Like being degraded like the fucking whore you are? Too impatient to get prepped that you just wanted my big, fat cock up your pretty little fuckhole? what would the girls think? seeing you get used like a sex doll?” you and wonyoung never expected what happened next. so turned on by wonyoung’s words, you threw your head back, feeling ecstasy all over your body. the liquid gushing out of your pussy was strong, soaking both of you. “Oh fuck…” wony mumbled before slamming herself in you one last time😝 she halts her movements, only the steady rise and fall of her chest is noticeable as her balls spill all of its worth into your already full womb🥺 the bulge in your stomach made her smirk. she pumped you full of her seed, she got to see you so vulnerable, she was the only one who could fuck you like this. you looked back at her, breathing heavily. wonyoung giggled at how cute you were, neck adorned with hickeys and eyes so lost in thought🥺

“Are you alright my love? D-did I go too far?”

“Jang Wonyoung if you don’t do that next time we fuck, I’m making you do No Nut November.”

“But-“

“Shh, I’m tired now, hug me.”

“wha- okay…”

“hey ynnie i got a boner too, me next-“

“YUJIN WHAT THE FUCK.”

i need to write more dom or switch wony cuz like😍😍😍WOWOWOW that girl does something to me🤐 yujinnie makes me giggle (i want her too)

thank you for the request my love!

stay safe and love ya lots

-Vicky💋

[pinkaditty]

Can i pls request some facesitting headcanons for Satan, Mammon, Sitri and leviathan with a fem s!o? Thank you ❤️

hihi this was my first non-anon ask and yes ofc u can!! <3333

summary: facesitting and pussy eating. how will the men of WHB handle it?

a/n: woohoo i've been excited to do this ask tbh!! like seriously i've really been looking forward to it!!!! the only one i don't know much abt is Mammon buuuuut i do know his personality and idiosyncrasy so im hoping that's enough to characterize him properly!

cw: fem!reader (sorry, the one time i don't do gn... I PROMISE GN NEXT TIME!!), reader has a vagina, facesitting, pussy eating, suffocating (leviathan), cardiophilia (Sitri), pygophilia (Mammon), spanking (Satan), male whimpering, masturbation, and lots of tongue usage. NOT PROOFREAD!

MINORS DNI AS USUAL!!!!! PLEASE RESPECT MY BOUNDARY! THANK YOU!

Satan:

well. he does like spanking!

he won't say no to you sitting on his face ofc that's whatever, as long as he gets to spank your ass while he does it.

he especially doesn't care which way you're facing, because either way, there's an ass close enough for spanking. good enough for him.

will definitely just roughly massage and spank your asscheeks while he makes quick work of you with his tongue.

don't really know why but i think he's totally masterful at it.

knows exactly where your sweet spots are in seconds and abuses tf out of them.

pays especially close attention to the clit, and he's the most gentle with his tongue there. he doesn't mind spanking you, but he doesn't want to hurt you, especially not your sensitive areas. he won't mind if his nails leave a few marks, though.

he won't really stop until he's satisfied. you can't pull yourself off of him because you're not beating him in the strength department.

sorta thrusts his hips up into the air as he eats you out. gets painfully hard really quickly.

His nails, sharp as claws, dig into the skin of your ass, leaving deep bruises and small cuts. You groan painfully, curling your hands into fists and twitching at the sensation. You reach out and pull on his hair. He only grunts, continuing to draw soft circles around your clit with his tongue, smacking your ass once with his right hand before cupping your cheeks and pulling you closer to him. The sensation of his tongue swirling around your clit is almost enough to distract you from his nails still clawing into your backside. His tongue is gentle and slow, tracing soft circles around the sensitive nub. His pace is consistent; not so slow you'd lose your mind, but not so fast that you'd be overstimulated. He takes his time, even pausing gentle stimulation of your clit to lap at your hole, already dripping juices from how delicious it all felt.

This back and forth continues, at the same constant pace. Every time you reach orgasm, he smacks your ass again and continues on his pace, gently licking soft circles around your hardened clit.

At this pace, you'll hardly be able to take whatever devil energy he can give you.

Mammon:

well. he's similar to satan in that he likes ass (similar to me too lol).

will probably be doing almost exactly like what Satan's doing, just with less spanking and more groping and general ass appreciation.

will definitely prefer you facing away from him so that he can really be immersed in ass.

he's really slow with it, though. like where satan will put you through multiple in minutes, mammon will give you one every agonizingly long stretch of time filled with not enough pleasure to get you off, but enough to keep you squirming and impatient.

he will find your sensitive spots, but rather than abuse them, he switches between them. he'll take his time getting you off. he's very slow with it, so much so that it almost feels like he's edging you (he sort of is but he's greedy he likes to savor it and take his time. he knows you're already his anyway. why not take his time?)

will lick stripes rather than circles. he will lick your clit directly instead of teasing swipes from a circular motion.

will also dive his tongue between your folds very often, lapping at your juices like a dog does water.

is constantly squeezing, groping, and rubbing his hands all over your ass, simply enamored by it regardless of size.

definitely without a doubt gets hard but probably won't acknowledge it. he's greedy for you, not his pleasure (though he absolutely will be later).

His tongue switches back to your clit, licking slow stripes, pushing the flesh up and down with his tongue. Idly, you wonder how he can keep at this for so long, but such a thought does not last- not when the repeated, slow motions scatter your thoughts with how ridiculously good it feels. You tense up, eagerly stifling your twitching and staying in place, feeling the pleasure build up at last. He keeps going, licking soft stripes up and down your clit, moving his tongue so masterfully rhythmically that barely a sound comes from his technique. You clench and unclench your hands, your eyes spin in your skull, your heartbeat quickens, and your breathing deepens. Surely this was it, surely--!

You feel the telltale motion of his tongue giving one last rough, prolonged stripe to your clit, before he switches back to your waiting hole, diving his tongue inside hungrily and dragging it along your insides, collecting all the juices his greed so desires. You curse, having been so close, and he teasingly squeezes your ass in return. You can feel him smirking into your folds.

Sitri:

oh boy. ohohooooo boy.

he could care less which way you're facing. what matters is, regardless of the position you take up, your thighs are pressed directly against his ears. he can hear your heartbeat from afar but it's never enough.

will wrap his arms around your thighs to ensure that you stay put and to really press your thighs into his ears. he just cannot get enough of your heartbeat. thump, thump, thump...

is less careful with his fangs than the other demons. absolutely will not hurt nor bite you but when he's tonguing your folds the smooth edges of his teeth may slide against you. not painful.

is not very calculated with his technique but doesn't really need to be with your heartbeat as a dead giveaway. he just laps and laps tirelessly like a parched dog but somehow it hits the good spots.

honestly it's the way he does it that turns you on more than how it feels. how desperate each stroke feels is what really does it.

strokes with his tongue are wide, all-encompassing, and sloppy. he's drooling so much that it only makes you wetter.

buries his face as close as he can so he'll often pull back for air before burying himself again.

eats you out like he's never eaten anything before.

gets hard very quickly and will gently remove his hand from your thigh to jack himself off. does it quietly so you won't notice because he thinks it's embarrassing. eventually his muffled moans into your folds give him away and you just start riding his face. not that he minds.

He just keeps lapping. Like a dog at a water bowl after a long, dry walk. He just doesn't seem to stop. It feels good - almost too good. You writhe and twist, curling your toes from how delicious it feels, but you can't move much; his strong arms still holding you down in place and keeping your thighs hard pressed to either side of his face. He just has to listen to your heartbeat in his ears. He just can't get enough of it, of you. He keeps lapping, his tongue sliding between your folds, gentle but quick, sliding across your hole and just barely tickling your clit before he retracts and licks again. The buildup feels slow, but you've finished before you know it, the gentle tickles of your clit driving you to orgasm. Your whole body shakes and your eyes roll back, and he lets you ride it out, keeping up his gentle strokes against your clit. You shiver as sparks pop behind your eyes, slowly coming down from your high. He squeezes your thighs once more, and breaks away, taking a few deep breaths. The cool air hits your folds and you flinch, twitching just slightly at the sensation. As quickly as he pulled away, he dives back in, dragging his tongue across the length of your labia, gently slipping between to tease what's there. You groan, feeling sensitive, the continued motion making you feel overstimulated. You curl your toes, shifting yourself just slightly, trying your best to bear the overwhelming feeling. It just feels too good, the gentle drag of his tongue, the soft tease of your hole and clit, and the finality of it all before he immediately starts again. You can't take it.

You feel the pressure of his hand of your thigh gently lift. You can't be bothered to pay much attention to that until you hear the soft clink of a belt being undone, and you know what he's doing. You can barely smile in satisfaction due to overstimulation, but you manage, and reach down for his blue silky hair, pulling tightly on it. He moans, and stops lapping, simply holding his mouth open, preparing for you to ride him. He's practically shaking, trembling in silence except for the repeated sound of his hand sliding up and down his length.

Leviathan:

the less he can breathe, the better.

literally. no if's and's or but's. the less he can breathe the better. surprisingly he's not much into choking you... rather he wants you to choke him.

and he doesn't care how you do it.

so suffocating under you while you take what you need from him, yeah! he is more than on board for that.

prefers you facing forward so you can use his nose to rub your clit on while your folds are spread over his lips, revealing your hole, perfect for him to stick his tongue into while you move back and forth over him.

this way, he can't breathe! and yeah, he gets off to that really fast.

will attempt to hold your hips as you ride him, but may be unable to focus much so he might claw his hands into the sheets.

while he's totally into this, you will have to lift off of him occasionally. but not for very long.

you can watch as his eyes roll back from the relief of finally being able to breathe, his face red as a cherry, his tongue lolled out and covered in your juices.

and then you sit right back down and he can't breathe anymore. but he's not complaining. at all.

he's thrusting his hips upwards, as though he's desperate to feel some friction. he's so into being suffocated, he can't even focus on his own arousal.

won't really touch himself. after your first orgasm or so he's already cum untouched.

for every one orgasm of yours, he's probably had one to three.

You're riding his face like you would a horse, using the chain between his horns as reins, pulling his face deeper into you. He obliges, following your pull ever so obediently, burying himself deeper into your folds. You're moving your hips along his face as fast as you can, his nose providing the perfect stimulation for your clit. You can barely see his eyes peeking over your thighs, but they're there, rolled back in ecstasy. His face is bright red, and he can't breathe. He's clinging to the sheets, gripping them tightly for some semblance of grounding, but he's too far gone.

You're much the same, dizzy and blissful from how good it feels. His nose is gently pressed into you, your clitoris rubbing back and forth over it. His nose supplies just the right amount of pressure, enough to send you over the edge. His open mouth and lolling tongue are perfect for catching your juices and teasing your hole, pressed right against it, and you feel every tremble and every moan. Sometimes he moves his tongue just slightly, circling your hole as you move. It makes you grip the chain harder, putting pressure on his horns, to which he moans rather loudly.

When you finally feel the orgasm coming, the building blissful pressure turning into a peak, your folds twitching with anticipation; you suddenly push the chain away from you, pressing his head into the sheets. Your hips follow him, pressing his face deeper into you and his head deeper into the pillows. His already jerking hips suddenly thrust into to the air, and you hear and feel a strangled moan as he reaches his peak, his whole body quivering as he soils his pants. You press deeper into him as you orgasm yourself, you clit quivering against his nose, your juices spilling into his mouth. For a moment, you stay like that, holding his chains so tightly they leave indents in your skin. Soon you release, letting go of his chains and lifting off of him a little, giving him a chance to breathe. He's twitching, all red in the face, and panting heavily, his mouth wide open, tongue lolling out. You only give him a minute before you sit right back on his face again. He moans, satisfied, and ready for another round.

a/n: okay so perhaps i got a little carried away with my blatant displays of favoritism. perhaps. but it's not my fault!!!!!!!!! i like them submissive. :(

okok but anyway i hope you all enjoyed woohoo!! one more ask after this, but ill do pervert pt 3 before I answer that ask. anyways, please please please let me know if you all enjoyed it!! leave a comment, do a quick reblog, and submit an ask if you want something written just for you! im happy to write for you! thank you so much for reading! I really appreciate you!

[blacckdiamondposts]

Unexpected

Pairing: Sukuna Ryomen/Yūji Itadori x f!Reader Warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, fucking, Sukuna (although he‘s kinda domesticated?lol) Plot: Honestly, no plot here, really.. Just Sukuna who takes over as he‘s fucking tired of watching Yūji fuck you.

Yūji pinned you down against the mattress. His hot body was pressed against yours. You flutter your eyes at him, biting your lower lip. He looked good; his hair clung to his forehead, and his broad chest glistened as the street lamps illuminated your room. 

He dipped his head to the crook of your neck, breathing heavily as he bottomed out in a single thrust. Your wet cunt clamped down around his cock almost as if you tried to suck him in even deeper, "I needed this so much,"

Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, lips pressing against his temple, "you always work so hard,"

Your fingertips ran over his back, making him shiver beneath your touch, "(Y/N), you feel so good,"

A whiny moan spilled over your lips as his teeth dragged over your neck, biting into your flesh. Your legs trembled as his cock grew, filling you up in a way he usually couldn't. 

"Y-Yūji," you breathed, and a low chuckle vibrated in his chest, making you widen your eyes. You knew that devilish chuckle and knew very well that it didn't belong to your beloved boyfriend. He parted ever so slightly, just enough to stare down at you. Your brows furrowed as your gaze fixed on his black markings.

"Yūji," your voice was loud, demanding as you hoped to reach your boyfriend. 

"Oi, don't say that brat's name," Sukuna commanded, looking down at you as if you were his prey. His fangs showed as his lips tugged into a sly grin, his eyes roaming over your exposed chest, "not bad,"

"Yūji, I'm sorry," you muttered. Your hand came up, slamming against his cheek, hoping to get your boyfriend back to reality.

"Careful, little one, better not get on my bad side," he growled, his red eyes glowing. He pinned you down by your neck, "he won't come back for a while,"

"W-what," your gaze found his.

"I'm having my turn with you," he stated, "so stop hiding,"

He pinned your arms down by your wrists just above your head while his other hand was still firmly on your neck, "besides, what's the point of hiding if I'm already inside you?"

You felt your cheeks heat up, wondering how you could ignore the sheer size of his thick length stretching you out. Just like his appearance differed from Yūji's, his cock seemed to be different too. It felt better than you would've liked to admit.

Sukuna thrust his hip against yours, earning a strangled moan. There was a hint of amusement in his eyes as he stared you down, "feels good, huh?"

"Better than that brat," he groaned as he pounded into your wet heat.

"Fu-uck, S-Sukuna," you moaned, hands coming up and gripping his shoulders. Your nails dug into his skin as you were holding on for dear life. Your small bedroom was filled with lewd sounds as your moans, his groans, and the way his balls slapped against your skin echoed off the walls.

Sukuna leaned down, lips feverishly clashing against yours before he forced his tongue past your lips. You moaned into the kiss, which only spurred him on more. He was sick of watching Yūji fuck you like he didn't know what he was doing. It made him rage, being only a matter of time before he'd eventually take over. Just like he did now.

"Damn, you're freaking tight," he said through gritted teeth.

"You're enjoying yourself a bit too much, ay," he chuckled lowly, "that brat's going to be jealous,"

Your eyes snapped open as you looked at him, "w-what?"

"He's watching," Sukuna smirked before his head dipped into the crook of your neck, "he's seeing all of this,"

Your walls tightened around his girth, earning another low chuckle, "you like that? What a slut,"

His tongue slipped past his lips, running over your bruised neck. He bit down, his fangs digging into your flesh, almost drawing blood. The sheer sting sent shockwaves through your body as you felt your orgasm approach, "c-close,"

"I know," he groaned against the crook of your neck before he propped himself up. He hooked his hands on your thighs, pushing them until your knees met your chest. Sukuna enjoyed how you looked all folded up, boobs pressed together, face flushed as you looked at him through half-lidded eyes.

He reached an even deeper spot with the new position, his tip hitting against your cervix as he slammed his hips against yours. You felt that tight coil snap as you were pushed over your edge, legs trembling, head thrown back as you turned into putty beneath him.

"P-please slow down," your voice was slightly above a whisper, "please,"

"If you're asking this nicely," Sukuna watched you with an amused expression as your body jerked and jolted as you came down from your high. He dropped your legs, his large hands rummaging over your body before they settled on your boobs. 

You gasped as his claws moved over your buds, arching your back and pushing your chest into his touch. He was thrusting into you steadily, not as brutally as previously. Sukuna wanted to have fun after all. Suddenly, you felt a wet sensation on your buds. The mouths in the palms of his hands were toying with your nips, licking and biting them with his sharp fangs.

You were squirming beneath him, and he loved it. Your hands came up, wrapping around his wrists.

"S-Sukuna," you whined, feeling like another orgasm will wash over you.

"Huh, that sensitive,"his cock was buried deep inside you, and he could feel your walls clamp around his length, "gonna cum again for me?"

With a hard thrust, you came again, and he felt how you spasmed around him. Your nails dug into his wrists, back arching only to push his cock deeper into your cunt. You were a mess already, trembling beneath him. 

"You seem to enjoy that he's watching you,"  Sukuna smirked, "do you like that he sees you getting fucked like a whore?"

"S-shut up," you breathed.

"What did you say," he asked, cocking a brow at you as he picked up his pace, rutting into your wet heat.

"T-too much," you moaned, "fuck,"

"Then, you better watch your mouth," he grunted, bringing his hand up to your neck. He lowered his head, tongue dragging over the marks before he bit down, earning a whimper as you felt overstimulated - overused as he fucked you stupid.

Your arms snaked around his shoulders, legs wrapping around his hips. You couldn't think about anything but him. The way his cock stretched you out so perfectly, the way his fangs sank into your skin, how he groaned in such a lustful way, "g-gonna cum,"

His grip around your neck tightened as he neared his orgasm, breathing and groaning heavily as his primal instincts took over. "Shit, want me to fill you up, huh? "

He felt you nod against him. With a smirk, he snapped his hips against yours before he came with a loud groan, painting your insides white as your walls milked him dry. He collapsed onto you, head still buried in the crook of your neck. All the while, you tried to catch your breath. 

"(Y/N), are you alright," although it was low and husky, you knew very well who that voice belonged to. He parted slightly, and your lips flicked into a smile as you noted that the markings were gone. Yūji looked at you worriedly, relaxing once you gave him a reassuring nod.

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pulling him into a lustful kiss.

[sleep-0-deprived]

Bloody desires

Vampire Nanami Kento x male reader

Tw breeding ,biting, blood kink, blood drinking, blood play,sub/dom dynamics, bottom male reader, slight overstimulation, s/m, slight feminization at the end, pet names such as baby boy/pretty boy/ my boy

Female aligned and minors dni 18+ content below

You were running through the forest, you knew something was after you and you knew it couldn’t be human especially the way you felt their eyes look at you like you were their next meal.

You were lost in a train of though as you ran so much so you tripped over a root and ran into a very old willow tree “you can’t outrun me especially when I can smell your sweet blood” the tall stranger said irking closer to you “what are you!?” You said in a gasp as the inhuman man picked you up by the neck “I’m a vampire but you can call me Nanami”

Nanami soon pushed you up against the willow tree and bit down into your neck, you soon let out a groan of pain but feeling yourself get hard you try to cover your legs and hide your growing erection. You soon feel Nanami free hand slide between your legs and pry them open “such a slut aren’t you? You don’t even know me and you already hard” the vampire spat as he pulled away from your crimson covered neck with your blood all over his mouth “I’m not a slut” you groaned out

Before you knew it Nanami forced his lip onto yours not that you didn’t want it, soon the taste of warm iron filled your mouth as his long tongue went down your throat. Nanami released his hands to travel up your stomach and too your nipples “hah~” you groaned out in shock of the new sensation, your mind felt fuzzy from loss of blood and all you could think about was his touch “i mneed more Na nami~” you beg as you grind your hips into his in desperation for any friction “patience is a virtue baby boy just wait” Nanami whispered as he pulled away from your mouth

Nanami pulled your hoodie from over your head while letting his mouth travel down your body leaving small bloody bite marks but soon licking all blood away “mor mneed moree~” you moaned out arching your naked back into the tree while feeling the cold moon shine on your bare bloody chest “fuck your so pretty~” Nanami groaned while tugging on your pants, soon he pulls them down and lets them fall to your ankle

Nanami takes your dick into his mouth, the feeling of Nanami’s fangs grazing your dick makes your head feel floaty and warm inside “ please nami~” you groaned out while bucking your hips forward and pressing you back against the rough bark of the tree, Nanami doesn’t say anything but instead digs his long claws into your thigh soon drawing blood “oh fuck fuck I’m gonna cu~”

You were soon cut off by your thick white ropes of cum shooting into Nanami’s mouth and going down his throat “every part of you taste so sweet pretty boy” Nanami grunted as he let his mouth travel down to your bloody and clawed up thighs “feels soo fuckn good~” you let out a loud moan as Nanami licks the blood off your thighs and soon makes more marks by bitting your thighs and gripping your hips tight, soon drawing beefs of blood to the surface “fuck your so intoxicating y/n”

Nanami soon stands up and starts taking his shirt and slacks off leaving him in nothing but boxer briefs, you can’t help but to stare at the vampire in front of you in all his pale glory, you stare at his chest and his muscles they are much bigger than yours, you slowly let your eyes wonder lower and stare at the very obvious bulge in his boxers “stop starin and turn around~” Nanami said with a groan

You turn around your hands on the tree and your ass sticking out, Nanami soon puts some of his bloody red spit on his fingers and prod into your hole, scissoring in and out soon stretching the tight ring of muscles “deeper nami~please fuuck~” you moaned but soon followed a loud slap “watch your mouth baby boy or I will have to punish you” Nanami said as he slapped your ass and also adding another finger to your hole

“That should be enough prepping” Nanami said while standing up and pulling down his boxers he soon aligns the tip of his dick with your twitching hole “ ah it hurts ngh~” you scream in pain as he shoves all 10 inches in “fuck you got this baby your taking me so well~” Nanami praises as he roughly grips your hips and pulls them into his

“Right ther~” you inaudibly scream feeling Nanami’s heavy dick sit on your prostate, soon Nanami starts thrusting in and out of your hole while harshly gripping your already bruised hips “good boy~” Nanami grunts as he slams into your prostate and presses you harshly against his hips letting his dick hit deep inside your gummy walls

You look down at your stomach and see a large bulge sticking out “see how deep I am boy?” Nanami leans down and whispered in your ear while pressing down on the bulge in you stomach “yes yes I do fuck~ harderr~ “ you moan feeling your eyes roll back as Nanami bites into the untainted side of you neck, letting your dark crimson blood drip down your chest

Soon Nanami’s hand moves from the bulge on your stomach and lowers down to your dick, his hand dwarfing it in size and he strokes is teasingly slow “faster please please please nami~” you scream out as you feel Nanami nail your prostate head on pounding your hole while stroking your dick “fuck so good for me baby boy~” Nanami groans as he licks away the blood on your neck, only leave a deep bite mark behind

“I’m so fucking close nami please~” you beg while gripping the willow tree as you feel your second orgasm approach “hold on a little longer baby” Nanami says as he picks his pace up, fucking you like there is no tomorrow, you swear you can see stars with the way he is fucking you

“Im cu cumming~” you scream while your eyes roll into the back of your head and thick ropes of cum shoot out of your swollen cock “me too baby boy, hold on” Nanami groans as give it his final thrusts and he shoot his cum right on your prostate “I’m going to breed your ass until you get pregnant baby” Nanami grunts as he shoves the cum back in your ass with the tip of his dick “fuck that was good Nanami” you pant out while coming down from you high “oh sweet boy we aren’t even don yet” Nanami coos showing his fangs.

[novaursa]

The Secret Flame

- Summary: You sneak out of the Red Keep again. And as alway, Harwin is there to chase you down.

- Paring: targ!reader/Harwin Strong

- Note: reader is referred to as Y/N, is twin sister of Rhaenyra and has striking resemblance to her grandmother, Alyssa. For more of my works visit my blog. The list is pinned to the top.

- Rating: Explicit 18+

- Word count: 3 599

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff

- A/N: I've never posted anything so fresh in my life. This work is just written, like a few minutes ago. I don't usually post my works so soon. They tend to sit way longer before being posted, especially if they are supposed to be made into a series. Those works are posted once all parts are complete, or way, way close to being done. I've slept like two hours, maybe. My blood is 90% coffee. Luckily, it's my day off. 😅 As always, I'll see how you guys like this before it becomes something larger. Enjoy! ❤️

The chill of the night air is a welcome contrast to the stifling warmth of the Red Keep as you slip quietly through the hidden passageways beneath Maegor’s Holdfast. You’ve navigated these shadowy tunnels since you were a child, memorizing each twist and turn like a whispered secret shared only with you. The cool stone beneath your hands feels like freedom as you push through the last concealed door, emerging into the moonlit streets of King’s Landing.

The city is alive, even in the depths of night. You breathe in the scent of the sea mingled with smoke and distant perfumes, savoring the feeling of anonymity that only these stolen excursions bring. You’ve always felt as if you were a dragon bound in chains within the walls of the Keep, and here, at least for a little while, you are free.

You keep your hood low, concealing the distinctive silver-gold hair that marks your heritage. The cobblestones beneath your feet are slick from the earlier rain, and the shadows dance with flickering torchlight as you weave through narrow alleys, away from the watchful eyes of your father’s guards.

The tension between you and your father has grown unbearable in recent moons. He sees in you too much of his mother, Alyssa, and perhaps that is why he clings so tightly. You can’t breathe under his watchful eye, can’t stretch your wings when he’s always hovering, reminding you of duty, decorum, and the precarious balance of the realm.

But here, no one knows you as the princess, no one sees the crown’s burden pressing down on your shoulders. Here, you are simply a shadow among shadows.

The night hums with the distant laughter of taverns and the murmurs of lovers hiding from prying eyes. You’re about to turn a corner when a rough hand reaches out from the darkness, yanking you into an even darker alley.

“Now what’s a fine lady like you doing alone in these parts?” A low, sneering voice slithers out from the gloom. You tense, instinctively reaching for the dagger hidden at your hip, but there’s no time to draw it before you’re shoved roughly against the wall. Two more men step into view, all grinning like wolves who’ve cornered a lost lamb.

“You’re far from home, aren’t you?” one of them taunts, his breath reeking of stale ale. 

You glare up at them, defiance burning in your eyes. “I assure you, you’ve made a grave mistake tonight,” you hiss, your voice edged with the fire that runs through your blood.

“Is that so?” The leader laughs, leaning in closer. “I think we’ve found ourselves a little bird with some fight.”

Before you can spit back a retort, there’s a sharp whistle from the shadows, and suddenly the men stiffen. The leader barely has time to turn before a strong hand grabs his collar and slams him face-first into the wall beside you. He crumples to the ground with a groan.

“Seems you lot forgot whose streets you’re crawling through,” a familiar voice says, smooth as velvet and rich with amusement.

Ser Harwin Strong steps into the faint light, his broad frame and easy confidence radiating a quiet authority that sends the other two men stumbling back in fear. His hand rests on the pommel of his sword, but it’s the smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth that unsettles them more.

“Run along, boys, before you find yourselves missing fingers or worse,” he advises in a tone that suggests he’s making them a very generous offer.

They don’t need to be told twice, bolting into the night like startled prey. Harwin watches them go before turning his attention to you. The glint in his dark eyes tells you he’s more amused than surprised to find you here, as if he half-expected it.

“You have a peculiar way of taking your nightly strolls, princess,” he says, the smirk widening into a grin. “I should have known I’d find you stirring up trouble.”

You roll your eyes, gathering your composure as you adjust your cloak. “I can handle myself, you know.”

“Clearly,” he chuckles, giving a pointed look at the discarded dagger still in your hand. “But I doubt King Viserys would agree if he knew his daughter was sneaking into Flea Bottom on a whim.”

You lift your chin defiantly. “I wasn’t in Flea Bottom.” 

He arches a brow. “You’re not far from it.”

Silence hangs between you, broken only by the distant clamor of the city. The moonlight catches the chestnut in Harwin’s eyes as he studies you, his expression softening into something less playful and more sincere. “Y/N… You know I can’t let you stay out here. I’m supposed to be your protector, after all.”

“Are you my guard now, too? I thought you were just Rhaenyra’s Gold Cloak protector.”

His lips twitch at that. “Rhaenyra doesn’t run off nearly as much as you do.”

You let out an exasperated sigh, stepping away from the wall and back toward the street. “You’re insufferable, Harwin.”

“And you’re reckless,” he counters, reaching for your arm as if to steer you back toward the Keep. “Come on, before you get us both into even more trouble.”

But you’re not done with the night just yet. You twist free of his grip, darting back into the alley. “Catch me if you can, Ser Breakbones!”

For a heartbeat, Harwin simply stares after you, caught between disbelief and admiration. Then he shakes his head with a low chuckle and gives chase, the sound of his footsteps pounding behind you as you race through the winding streets.

The thrill of it all—the wind in your hair, the laughter bubbling in your chest, and the sound of Harwin’s voice calling your name—feels like flying. You know he’ll catch you eventually, but for now, you’re just out of reach, teasing the line between freedom and the inevitable return to your gilded cage. 

But that’s part of the dance, isn’t it? The chase, the daring escapes, and the knowledge that while he may be tasked with returning you to safety, a part of him enjoys the game just as much as you do.

And for tonight, that’s enough.

The pounding of your heart echoes in your ears as you dart through the narrow streets, your feet barely skimming the cobblestones. Harwin is right behind you, his heavy boots making it clear he’s gaining ground. You can’t help the exhilarated laugh that slips past your lips, feeling the cool night air whip through your hair. For a brief moment, you almost wish he wouldn’t catch you, just so you could revel in the rush of freedom a little longer.

But then you hear his voice—low, deep, laced with a blend of exasperation and amusement. “Y/N, you’re only making this worse for yourself!”

You glance back just in time to see the determined gleam in his eyes, and before you can react, his hand closes around your wrist. You let out a surprised gasp as he spins you, tugging you close until your chest is flush against his. You can feel the heat radiating from him, his breath ghosting over your lips as he stares down at you with a mixture of desire and reprimand.

“You truly are a wild thing, aren’t you?” His voice is husky, rough with the thrill of the chase.

“Perhaps,” you murmur, a sly smile tugging at your lips, “but you seem to enjoy it.”

Without giving him a chance to respond, you tug him into the shadowed alleyway beside you. The darkness wraps around you both, cloaking you from any prying eyes that might still be wandering the streets. There’s a moment of tension, of anticipation crackling between you like lightning in a summer storm.

You push him back against the stone wall, your hands fisting in the front of his tunic as you pull him down to meet your lips. The kiss is fierce, hungry—born of a shared need that has simmered beneath the surface for far too long. Harwin’s hands are quick to respond, gripping your waist with a possessive strength that sends shivers down your spine. He tastes of salt and warmth, of nights spent in armor and the fire that burns within him.

There’s no room for words now, just the frantic rustle of fabric as your fingers work to loosen his breeches, his own hands tugging at the ties of your skirts. The air is thick with the scent of desire, mingled with the cool, damp earth and stone around you. Your breath comes in ragged gasps as you free him, your bodies already pressing together with the desperate anticipation of what’s to come.

When he moves into you, it’s with a practiced ease that speaks of all the times you’ve stolen moments like this before. Your head falls back, a soft moan escaping your lips as he fills you, the familiar stretch and heat drawing gasps from both of you. For a heartbeat, you both remain still, savoring the way you fit together, the way your bodies seem to crave this connection as much as your hearts do.

“Gods, Y/N,” Harwin groans, his voice low and strained. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

You smile against his lips, your nails digging into his shoulders as you start to move, setting a rhythm that’s as familiar as it is intoxicating. “Better than dying in the Keep, caged and suffocated,” you manage to whisper, your voice breathy with desire.

He lets out a deep, rumbling laugh, but the sound quickly fades into a grunt as your hips grind against his. The tempo between you quickens, each thrust driven by pure, unbridled need. There’s a primal urgency in the way you cling to each other, as if the world outside these walls doesn’t exist, as if all that matters is this moment, this passion, this escape.

His hands grip your thighs, lifting you slightly as he presses you harder against the wall, deepening the angle until you’re both lost to the rhythm of your bodies. Every movement draws a gasp, a moan, a whispered name into the darkness. Your nails rake down his back, desperate to hold onto the sensation building within you. He’s rough and tender all at once, his control fraying with each stroke as he buries his face in the curve of your neck.

“Y/N… you drive me mad,” he rasps, his breath hot against your skin.

You bite down on your lip, stifling a cry as he hits a particularly sensitive spot, pleasure coiling tight in your belly. “Good,” you manage, your voice breaking on the word as your hands slide into his hair, tugging him closer, demanding more.

The pace is relentless now, both of you moving in sync, lost in the frantic need to reach that edge together. You’re barely aware of anything but the feeling of him inside you, the way your bodies collide with a desperate intensity. His name slips from your lips again and again, a plea, a prayer, as the pleasure builds to an unbearable peak.

When release finally crashes over you, it’s like wildfire spreading through your veins. Your body trembles, tightening around him as you shatter, a cry breaking free from your throat. Harwin isn’t far behind, his grip bruising as he thrusts deep one final time, a guttural groan spilling from his lips as he finds his own release. He holds you there, chest heaving, his forehead pressed against yours as you both ride out the last waves of pleasure together.

For a long moment, there’s only the sound of your ragged breathing mingling in the darkness. The intensity slowly ebbs away, leaving behind a warmth that’s almost tender as you both come back to yourselves. Harwin’s thumb traces a gentle line along your jaw, his eyes soft as he studies your flushed face.

“Reckless, wild, and impossible,” he murmurs, but there’s no scolding in his tone, only fondness.

You lean into his touch, a contented smile tugging at your lips. “And yet you keep coming back, Ser Harwin.”

He huffs a quiet laugh, pressing a lingering kiss to your lips, slow and sweet this time. “How could I not? There’s no taming a dragon, but gods be damned if I don’t love the fire.”

For a moment, you allow yourself to savor the warmth of his embrace, the comfort of his presence in the midst of all the chaos that defines your life. But the night is waning, and the world beyond this alleyway is still waiting.

Reluctantly, you begin to disentangle yourself, smoothing your skirts and adjusting your cloak. Harwin mirrors you, straightening his tunic and tightening the laces of his breeches. There’s a lingering heat in his gaze as he watches you, as if he’s already thinking about the next time he’ll chase you through these streets.

“Come,” he finally says, extending his hand with a grin. “I suppose I should get you back before anyone notices your absence… though I doubt I’ll be able to explain why you’re looking so disheveled.”

You smirk, taking his hand as you step back out into the moonlight. “That’s your problem, Ser Breakbones. I’ll leave the excuses to you.”

With a chuckle, he leads you back toward the Red Keep, but not before stealing one last kiss under the stars, a reminder that, for all the rules and restrictions of your world, some fires simply can’t be contained.

The flickering light of the hearth casts dancing shadows on the walls of the private dining chamber, illuminating the worn but sturdy wooden table where Lord Lyonel Strong and his son, Ser Harwin, sit across from one another. The aroma of roasted meats and spiced wine fills the room, yet Harwin barely touches his food, his mind lost in thought as he absently stirs his cup of wine. 

Lyonel watches his son with keen eyes, noting the subtle tension in his posture, the way his gaze drifts toward nothing in particular as if he’s waging some silent battle within himself. They’ve shared these private dinners often, moments away from the demands of the court, but tonight there’s a charged undercurrent in the air that neither man can ignore.

After a long silence, Lyonel clears his throat and decides it’s time to broach the subject. “You seem distracted, Harwin. A rare occurrence for you.” His tone is gentle, probing, as he carefully measures his son’s reaction.

Harwin’s head snaps up as if he’s been startled out of his thoughts. He forces a smile, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “It’s nothing, Father. Just tired, perhaps.”

Lyonel isn’t convinced, but he decides to tread forward nonetheless. He takes a deliberate sip of his wine before speaking, choosing his words with the precision of a man accustomed to walking the tightrope of politics. “There’s been much discussion in the Small Council of late regarding alliances and… strategic marriages.”

Harwin tenses slightly, though he tries to mask it with a casual nod. “That’s always the way of things, isn’t it? Who’s being sold to whom for power and coin this time?”

Lyonel’s eyes narrow, noting the edge in his son’s voice. “In this case, it concerns someone close to you. The King is making plans for Princess Y/N. It appears he’s leaning toward a betrothal to the heir of House Blackwood.”

The words hang heavy in the air, and for a moment, Harwin’s face betrays nothing. But Lyonel’s sharp eyes catch the brief flicker of something—shock, anger, and something dangerously close to despair—before Harwin schools his features into a stoic mask. 

He swallows hard, the lump in his throat making it difficult to speak. “House Blackwood,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “She’s… she’s to be sent away, then.”

Lyonel arches a brow, watching the way his son’s knuckles whiten as he grips the edge of the table. “It would seem so,” he replies slowly, studying every nuance of Harwin’s reaction. “The marriage would be advantageous for the realm—bringing the Riverlands more firmly into the fold, securing loyalties through blood ties.”

Harwin’s gaze drops to his plate, the food now entirely forgotten. His mind races, a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions churning within him. The mere idea of Y/N being wed to someone else—of her being taken away to some distant castle, away from the Red Keep, away from him—it’s unbearable.

And Lyonel sees it, clear as day. The horror settles over him like a weight as he begins to piece together what Harwin’s response truly means. He knows his son—knows that Harwin has never been one to be so easily unsettled. For him to react this way… there must be something more, something deeper beneath the surface.

“Harwin,” Lyonel says, his voice now laced with a quiet urgency. “You’re taking this news rather hard, considering it is not your place to determine who the princess marries. Why does this trouble you so?”

Harwin clenches his jaw, fighting to keep his emotions in check. But his father’s probing gaze is relentless, cutting through the defenses Harwin has so carefully constructed over the years. “It’s not—” he begins, but the words catch in his throat. He can’t find a plausible excuse, can’t weave a tale that would satisfy his father without revealing too much.

Lyonel’s expression darkens as he begins to draw his own conclusions, his shrewd mind piecing together the puzzle. His eyes widen slightly in realization, a flicker of disbelief crossing his features before settling into grim understanding. “Harwin…” he breathes, the name laced with a mixture of disappointment and concern. “Tell me you haven’t done something foolish.”

Harwin’s silence is damning. His hands tighten into fists on the table as he struggles to find the words, his heart pounding in his chest. He doesn’t need to confirm it; his father already knows.

The weight of Lyonel’s realization crashes down like a hammer. He leans back in his chair, rubbing a hand over his face as he exhales a long, weary breath. “Gods help us,” he mutters, more to himself than to Harwin. “You’ve gone and entangled yourself with the princess, haven’t you?”

Harwin’s gaze remains fixed on the table, shame and defiance warring within him. He knows there’s no point in denying it now. “It wasn’t supposed to happen,” he admits hoarsely, his voice thick with emotion. “But I couldn’t stop it. I couldn’t stop myself.”

Lyonel closes his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose as the full implications settle in. “You fool. Do you have any idea what this could mean? What could happen if this gets out? The scandal, the danger—not just to you, but to her?”

“I know,” Harwin snaps, his voice strained, as if the very acknowledgment of the truth is tearing him apart. “But I… I care for her, Father. More than I should. More than I’ve ever cared for anyone.”

The raw confession hangs in the air, and for a moment, Lyonel can only stare at his son with a mixture of anger and pity. He sees the turmoil in Harwin’s eyes, the desperate, reckless need that has clearly consumed him. This isn’t just a passing infatuation or a dalliance. It’s something far deeper, something that could lead to ruin if it’s not carefully managed.

“Harwin,” Lyonel finally says, his voice low and grave, “you’ve put us all in a precarious position. If the King suspects, if the wrong person finds out, it could be the end of not just you, but our entire house. You must let her go. The marriage will happen, and you cannot interfere. Do you understand me?”

Harwin’s fists tremble as he fights back the overwhelming urge to protest, to scream that it’s impossible, that he can’t just let her go. But he knows his father is right. He knows the reality of their situation, knows that they are both trapped in a world of politics, duty, and expectations that neither of them can escape.

“I understand,” he finally grits out, though the words feel like ashes on his tongue.

Lyonel’s gaze softens slightly, a hint of sympathy bleeding into his stern expression. “I do not doubt your feelings, son, but some battles are not meant to be fought. And this is one you cannot win. You must think of what’s at stake.”

Harwin doesn’t respond, unable to trust himself to speak without betraying the depth of his anguish. Instead, he nods stiffly, forcing himself to swallow the pain that threatens to overwhelm him. He can’t imagine a future where Y/N belongs to someone else, where she’s out of his reach, but he knows he may have no choice in the matter.

Lyonel watches him with a heavy heart, knowing he’s asking the impossible of his son but also knowing it’s the only way to avoid disaster. “Be careful, Harwin,” he warns quietly, his voice tinged with regret. “Love is a powerful thing, but it can also be a weapon if wielded recklessly. Do not let it destroy you.”

The room falls into silence once more, the crackling fire the only sound between them. Harwin’s gaze remains fixed on the flames, but his thoughts are far from the warmth of the hearth. They’re with her—always with her—no matter how impossible the road ahead may seem. And even as he tells himself to let go, to do what’s expected, he knows in his heart that the fire between them isn’t something he can simply snuff out. It burns too bright, too fiercely, and like all dragonfire, it may yet consume them both.

[xbellaxcarolinax]

Need You

Marc Spector x f!reader

Word count: 2588

Summary: In the middle of the night, when Marc comes home, is when he needs you the most.

Warnings: S m u t. Nasty, filthy, smut. Specifically: oral (both male and female receiving), riding, and p in v (no protection), let's add praise kink to be safe. Which means this is NSFW. Which means minors DNI. Also language. That's a big one. Marc can't help it.

There's fluff too, probably very cheesy. So bad omg. Smut with no plot. Not beta read. Let me know if ya'll like <3

...

The bed dipped and you stirred, your mind foggy—caught between consciousness and the realm of sleep. Your bleary eyes cracked open, vision hazy in the darkness. You managed a quick glimpse at the digital clock on the nightstand. 

3:55 AM. 

Your eyes fell shut as you stretched your limbs like a cat under the sun, a tired little whine escaping you. You had work in a few hours.

Turning over, you collided with the warmth of bare skin. Strong arms immediately wrapped around you, calloused fingers burying under your too-large t-shirt to skim down the dip of your spine. A warm kiss to your temple had you sighing in contentment and you breathed in the fresh scent of body wash as your hands slowly glided over damp skin. Your fingers traced the familiar ridges of marred flesh, tiny scars from the past that led up to the thin golden chain nestled comfortably between you both.

"Marc?" His name felt thick on your tongue. You knew it was him by touch alone. He was the one that held you as if afraid of losing you. He’d dreamed about it enough times to fear it, and each time, you reassured him that he wouldn't.

"Yeah, baby, it's me," he muttered, drawing small circles over your skin, "didn't mean to wake you." 

"S'okay. Missed you." You buried your face in the crook of his neck, your voice heavy with sleep. Marc hummed, a hand slowly trailing down your back to grab the globes of your ass under your thin panties, giving each of them a gentle squeeze. 

"Missed you, too." He said into your hair, kissing your bed-slept strands. You tipped your head back to look him in the eyes. The moonlight peeking through the blinds did little to illuminate his features, but you could make out the contours of his face, the prominent line of his nose. His eyes, dark and hooded, were focused on nothing but you. It was a stare you were well acquainted with. To others, it was deadly. To you, it was nothing but pure affection.

"You okay?" You asked him as you always did after he came home from a mission, reaching up to cradle the side of his face. His stubble was rough under your fingertips, your thumb lovingly caressing his cheekbone. He didn’t shave, probably too tired, but you didn’t mind.

"Yeah," he sighed into your touch, lashes fluttering, "I'm okay. Better now." You could feel the hardness of his bulge through his boxers. He was needy, pushing his length against you in a silent plea for attention. You chuckled tiredly, shifting to press your lips over his eager ones. It started innocent enough, lips fusing like puzzle pieces in a dance you both knew well. 

Marc peppered kisses over every inch of your face before gently sucking a bruise onto the delicate skin of your neck. You groaned, your fingers threading through his damp curls, easing him off just a bit.

"What's gotten into you?" You breathed, relishing the way his tongue lapped over the mark he'd left to soothe the ache.

"Need you, baby," he grunted, trailing his plush lips over your face, “need to feel you.” 

"Yeah?" You shuddered, a throbbing need blooming between your legs, "then take what you need."

As soon as you uttered those words, one of his hands came to rest behind the nape of your neck, guiding you into another heated kiss. It was filthy this time—wet—tongues and teeth clashing sloppily. Not so innocent anymore.

Okay, so Marc wanted it messy. Who were you to deny him? 

The night lamp was quickly switched on, and all thoughts on getting any sleep were left in the dust, not that you minded too much. You ended up between his legs with his boxers gone and your t-shirt flug somewhere, your knees cushioned by the pillow Marc had placed on the floor for you. 

"Let me take care of you." You purred, breathing over his cock before spitting on it without hesitation. You watched it run down his length and over the curve of his balls, seeping into the sheets below. Your eyes followed the stream with fascination before you devoured him whole, working your lips back and forth, from base to swollen tip. 

Marc was seated at the edge of the bed breathing heavily, one of his forearms propping him up while the other hand disappeared in your hair, guiding you.

"You take me so well, sweetheart," he whispered, eyes lidded as he watched you work, "love how you choke on my cock." And as if to prove his point he weaved his fingers into your hair, shoving your face into his pelvis. He made you sputter and wheeze, tears welling in the corners of your eyes. More spit dribbled past your lips and down his length, as you sucked and sucked and sucked. 

"Fuck, baby, you know exactly what I need, don't you?" He groaned, his head lolling to the side lazily. You hummed, letting your glossy eyes flutter just a bit when you glanced up at him, making sure to hold his gaze for a moment before lowering them again. You knew that drove him crazy. 

And it did, judging by the growl that rumbled in his chest. He tapped a finger over the tip of your nose, a signal for you to stop. You obediently pulled away with a loud pop, licking your swollen lips free of the salty precome that lingered. 

"Fuck, c'mere," Marc snarled, surging forward and lifting you to straddle him. He fell back against the bed, letting your hands roam the expanse of his smooth chest, your fingers lightly grazing over his skin from collarbone to navel and back up again. You openly admired him—the sheen of sweat over his tanned skin, the swell of his muscles as he held you tight, his glazed eyes following your every move. 

"You're beautiful," you murmured, carefully taking hold of the delicate chain around his neck before dipping forward to kiss him. His arms wrapped tighter around your form, holding you against him. He smirked into the kiss, the tiniest huff of laughter pouring over you. 

"Never been called beautiful before," he said between kisses, giving your ass a nice slap. You moaned at the light sting, grinding your clothed cunt over his slippery cock, desperate to be filled. Marc hissed, his hand pressing down on your lower back to encourage your grinding, the tip of his cock wet and leaking over his stomach. 

"Shit," he panted as you pressed your nose against his lovingly, "you wanna ride me, pretty girl?"

“Mhm.” You whimpered, feeling the pad of his thick finger press against your core, relishing in its moist heat before pulling the soaked fabric of your panties aside.

“Go ahead, baby.” 

Firmly planting a hand on his chest, you lined up his cock with your entrance before taking a breath and sinking slowly, swallowing him inch by inch.

“Mmmm, God,” you moaned, pausing as soon as you took him to the hilt, “fuuuuck, Marc.”

“My cock too much for you, sweetheart?” You could hear the smugness in his tone despite his panting. His hands flew to your hips, slowly raising them to feel your walls flutter against his length before bringing you back down gently, “You can take it, I know you can—yeah, that’s it, baby.”

You choked out a sob as you rocked up and down his thick cock, whimpering at the delicious stretch. Despite having had him more times than you could count, it still made you breathless at how well he stuffed you, how deep he could reach inside and make you see stars.

"Baby, I think you got it all wrong," Marc grunted, his fingers digging into your skin as he guided you faster and faster.

"W-what?" You pushed Marc's damp hair away from his brow, watching how his hooded eyes were pinned to your face. 

"I'm not the beautiful one here. Lookit you, you’re so fucking beautiful like this, so fucking pretty when you cream all over my cock, fuuuck." He looked at you with so much adoration, like he couldn't believe you were his. His chest rose and fell with each breath, and you continued to spear yourself on his length with your lip pressed between your teeth. His words went straight to your core, drowning him in your juices.

Within seconds Marc had you on your back, one of his hands pinning both your wrists above your head.

"So fucking beautiful." He said again, his heated gaze roaming over your body before he dipped down to give you a bruising kiss. His necklace swung in the duvet between your collarbones, the pendant barely skimming the surface of your skin. 

You loved being under him, loved the way he moved over you and manipulated your body. He was the musician and you the instrument. He played you sweetly, expert fingers trailing over your skin and down the valley of your breasts to tweak a pert nipple before continuing his journey in search of the treasure held within you. He quickly dragged down your panties—now completely soaked—pulling them down your legs with your help and flinging the flimsy thing somewhere across the room to be forgotten.

"Goddamn." He breathed, dragging his middle and ring fingers over your cunt, spreading your juices over his digits. You were a sopping mess, coating his fingers with every sigh and mewl that escaped you. "You're so fucking wet, baby—you're soaking the sheets." 

"Mhm," you moaned, feeling a bit vulnerable stretched out under him. Your thighs were spread so he could inspect you, and all you could see was his crown of curls between your legs, his breath fanning over your cunt until suddenly he spits on it. "Oh my God," you tossed your head back with a groan. Your toes flexed and your thighs shook as you fought to release your hands. You wanted to touch him, desperate to feel his skin under your fingertips.

"Marc," you begged through sobs, though you weren't too sure what you were begging for exactly, "p-please." He smiled, taking pity on you, releasing you from his grip.

"Be a good girl and let me take care of you now, can you do that for me?" He took his cock in hand and rubbed the underside over your messy cunt, tapping it until you were begging for him to put it in.

"I'll be good," you choked, "just put it in me, please, in me, in me, in me—" you chanted until he silenced you with his lips, and in one fell swoop he entered you to the hilt unforgivingly. You’d scream if you could but Marc swallowed all your moans and squeals, silencing you as he moved above you gracefully.

Your hands flew to grip his arms as he practically folded you in half, reaching the deepest parts of you with ease. You ripped your lips away to let out a series of whimpers.

"I know, baby, I know, I got you, doing so good for me," Marc heaved, "so fucking tight." He pressed his chest flush against yours, burying his face in your neck to silence his moans. 

You were cockdrunk, mouth hanging open as he slammed into your sopping core with a precision that only he seemed to have. Each thrust brought you closer to the edge, the head of his dick kissing you where you needed it most.

Suddenly your body seized up and your pussy tightened as you came.

You swore you were on a different plane, a different galaxy even, floating away as pleasure rippled through you like an electrical current. You could barely hear him cooing at you, whispering pretty things in your ear as you gushed all over his cock.

"I-I love you," the confession slipped past your lips quicker than you could think it through, too high off your blissful orgasm. You meant it—of course, you meant it—but this wasn't the way you had planned to tell him, blissed out your mind with tears blurring your vision and drool running down your chin. 

It had lay heavy on your mind for a while now, ruminating, waiting for the right moment.

This hadn't been your intention.

You could barely react to your mistake, your mind now fuzzy with Marc's pretty whimpers.

"T-that's it pretty girl, that's it," he moaned, his breath warm against the shell of your ear, "you did so well for me, baby, so perfect. You're perfect." He babbled on as his thrusting became more sloppy and uncoordinated, chasing his own high.

"Come inside," you whined, barely finding your voice, "come inside me, Marc, please, I wanna feel you." One hand was buried in his hair while the other dragged down the expanse of his broad back, your nails marking his skin with angry red lines.

"Fuck," he moaned as he slammed into you one final time, releasing his thick spend inside.

He laid atop of you for a few moments, both of you struggling to catch your breath. Your limbs were a tangled, sweaty mess, useless for much else but laying there in a euphoric state.

Marc pressed a kiss over your collarbone before slowly holding himself up on shaky arms, gently removing his softening cock from inside you. His cum trickled out, a stream of white running down from your hole and straight into the sheets to join your juices. 

"You're a mess," he tutted quietly, immediately diving down to clean you up with his skillful mouth. Within minutes he had you coming again, his tongue lapping in and around you in search of every drop you had to offer until you yanked him away by the hair from the overstimulation.

"You're gonna kill me." You panted, reaching for him with shaky hands. He chuckled, pulling you in his arms as he smiled into your neck.

"Hope not," he muttered tiredly, holding you in the same position he had you in when he first arrived home,  "love you too much." 

"Hmm?" Your eyes lose their haziness from earlier, instantly alert and searching Marc's features for any signs of falseness in the statement. But you couldn't. His brown eyes seemed to hold nothing but honesty. You hoped he didn't feel forced to return the sentiment. You knew he cared for you a great deal, but that didn't mean he was necessarily ready to express it.

"Marc," you could feel your brows pull together in concern, "you don't have to—I didn't mean for you—" He silenced you with a kiss, long and sleepy, pouring everything he had with that one action.

"I love you," he said, clear as day, surging forward to kiss your brow. "I love you." He said again, kissing the tip of your nose. "I love you." A kiss on each cheek. "I love you." A kiss to your chin. "I love you." A kiss to your swollen lips before resting his head over yours. And that was that.

You choked, tears springing to your eyes but you said nothing more, just curled yourself into him as he rubbed your back in soothing circles. After a while, you felt your eyes grow heavy and you gave the clock one final glance over Marc's shoulder.

5:21 AM

It's okay, you thought, nothing wrong with calling out from work later that morning.

You fell asleep moments later to the sounds of Marc's sleepy whispers-

I love you, I love you, I love you—

[throneofsapphics]

keep still

Rowan x f!Reader

Summary: Day 5, Cockwarming with Rowan

Warnings: cockwarming, smut, d/s dynamics, minors dni!

kinktober masterlist

He reached out a hand for you and you stood, cautiously taking it. You’d been teasing him all day long, and knew there would be hell to pay - you just didn’t know how much. There was an office, through a discreet door in the sitting room, with a large desk - always stacked with papers. He sat down at his, pulling you to stand in between his legs, before pushing you down to your knees. “So pretty.” He murmured, tracing a hand over your cheek. You leaned into his touch before resting your head on his thigh, relishing in the heat of his body against your skin - even through clothes. Relishing in the temporary peace. To anyone else, it might have seemed like a kindness but Rowan loved to tease you like this, to leave you on edge anticipating what he would do next. He waited until you were in a half-sleepy state before pulling you back up and turning you so your back was to his chest. You whimpered as you felt him lining himself up at your entrance. 

“Do you need a gag?” His voice was laced with amusement and a promise of violence if you kept testing him. 

“No.” You answered quickly, “I don’t.” 

“Good.” You forced yourself to relax as he started inching into you, slowly stretching until he was able to pull down roughly on your hips. “You get to sit here.” He said, pulling you back so your head rested on his shoulder. “Quiet. No moving.” He warned you. 

“Can I turn around?” You whispered, You wanted to wrap around him, for your arms to lock together behind his back. He wrapped his fingers around your neck, squeezing slightly as he thought. “If you can keep still for ten minutes.” 

“Thank you.” You said softly. 

“Such good manners,” he teased, and reached around you to start reading reports. You put all of your focus into remaining perfectly still. Even then, the ten minutes passed painfully slow as your eyes flicked to the clock right ahead of you. But - right on the mark, he grasped your waist, lifting you off of him, before turning and lowering you back down on him, none too gently and you fought back a wince. 

His eyes searched your face, looking for some sort of response. “Thank you.” You said again, leaning in to rest your head on his shoulder, pressing your body against his chest. 

“You’re welcome.” He murmured, one hand rubbing against your back. It took more focus than it should’ve to keep yourself perfectly still, but you managed, and ended up falling asleep with him still hard inside you. You wondered what he got out of this - of you just sitting here. It didn’t feel sexual, not really, but more comforting. Maybe for both of you. 

You jolted awake, not certain how long later, with his canines grazing over your neck. “I thought that would wake you up angel.” He murmured, and you bit back a moan as he bit right into your neck, drawing small droplets of blood that he licked up quickly and eagerly. “You don’t have to be quiet anymore,” He said, before standing and pulling you up with him. In one swift motion your back was pressed into the desk, papers crushed under your body. He shoved one of your legs up near your chest, and his hand landed next to your head. He managed to stay inside of you the whole time. 

You diverted your eyes, looking down to where you joined, but his fingers grasped your chin, pulling your head back up to look at him. To look in his eyes. His thumb pressed against your lips, parting them, “suck.” he ordered. You kept eye contact as your tongue swirled around him, enjoying the way his eyes darkened, at how lust started dulling his other senses. 

Once he was satisfied, he pressed the same thumb against the apex of your thighs, a sadistic smile on his face as you cried out. Gods, the pressure - the overstimulation, “Don’t you dare finish,” He snarled, and your chest heaved. You needed to think about anything - anything other than the male inside you, anything other than his thumb pressing circles into your clit. 

“Oh gods,” You moaned, and he moved his hand, to your momentary relief, but the next second he began moving inside of you. His pace was slow, but each thrust hard and powerful, rocking the desk as papers flew off. All you could do was a whimper, your back arching, eyes closing. 

“Open your eyes.” He growled, and you saw him - watching you, pure lust, his eyes a dark green. “Good girl.” He picked up his pace, 

“Rowan,” You whined, his name a plea on your lips, “please please please.” 

“No.” 

You sobbed, the pain and tension almost becoming too much, but he distracted you, his hand cupping the back of your head, twisting your hair around his fist, and he pulled you up, his mouth claiming yours in a brutal kiss. His hand tightened, painfully twisting in your hair, as his tongue slid into your mouth, yours swirling together. You moaned, and he snapped his hips one more time, stilling as you felt him spill inside you. He breathed heavily, laying you back down against the table. “Good girl,” he murmured, and the praise soothed you, bringing you back to the present. 

“C-can I?” You babbled after a few moments, unable to actually put the words together. The edge of release was painful, overwhelming, and taking over your focus. 

“No.” He said firmly, finally pulling out of you. His arms wrapped around your back, lifting you up before he took you in his arms. You locked your legs around his waist, leaning your head against his shoulder. 

“Please,” you whined, and hated how desperate you sounded. 

A light swat on your ass as he let out an edged chuckle. “Keep begging and I’ll make it even longer.” 

“Cruel,” you murmured, but with an affectionate smile on your face. 

He tugged on the ends of your hair, “you love it.” 

“Maybe.”

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

the epiphany

lilac, chapter twenty

a/n: I cannot believe that this series is done! thank you, everyone, for coming along for the ride, hope you enjoyed it as much as i did writing it ♡

summary: “…you don’t have to stay here anymore… you could go live anywhere you’d like.”

warnings: lumberjack!frank castle x reader, lumberjack AU, past domestic violence, crazy ex trope, kissing, love confession, swimming in a lake, frolicking in nature and shit, piggybacks

word count: 1227

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Staring up at the twisted metal of the headboard, lazily tangled in the soft linen of the sheets, Frank’s arm was curled around your neck, his bicep in a way becoming your pillow as his fingertips stretched down to draw feathery patterns across the softness of your breast. 

The morning sunlight softly streamed in through the sheer curtains, a gentle bird song sounding from just the other side of the glass as you tilted up your head to look at Frank as he spoke. 

“…you don’t have to stay here anymore…” his gaze was directed at the ceiling as he said, “you could go live anywhere you’d like. You could go back to New York now if that’s what you want. Nothing’s stopping you anymore, you could go home.”

Nodding gently at his words, you uttered, “I know I could, but I don’t want to anymore,” sitting up in bed, Frank’s palm lingered at your waist as you found his eyes, “things have changed, I’ve changed, Frank,” a roiling furnace suddenly ignited and crackled within you, “I don’t wanna go back to New York anymore. I wanna stay here, with everyone, with you,” your words now left your lips with an air of desperation as your tone grew sharper, “I don’t wanna leave Dunbrook and I especially don’t wanna leave you, I love you, I–…” your babbling came to a screeching halt as you realised what truth you’d just uttered. Feeling breathless a moment, your eyes grew as you retraced your steps, “I–… I–… I love you,” a bubble of airy laughter then tumbled out of your lungs as your eyes once again locked with his, “I love you.”

Raising himself up to a seat as well, the sheets tumbled down his bare chest as he seized the sides of your face and pulled you in, pressing his lips to yours. 

He had kissed you plenty of times before, but this somehow felt different. Maybe it was the overwhelming high of love chemicals coursing through your veins just doing its trick and making you feel as if he was kissing every nerve ending on your body, perhaps it was something else entirely. 

But as he eventually withdrew only to stare back at you in complete and utter awe, you couldn’t stop yourself from pleading, “oh, please say something. You can’t just kiss me like that and then go silent. You gotta say something–”

“Y/n,” his molten timbre washed over you and warmed you to your very core, “I love you too.”

Feeling tears begin to blur up your vision, you sniffled, “yeah?”

Sweeping his thumb across your misty cheekbone, his own gaze swiftly grew glossy as he echoed, “yeah.” 

“You sure you don’t wanna tell me where we’re going?” you leaned in and pressed your cheek against the side of his head as he continued to stride forth around the lake with you clutched to his back like a sleepy child at an amusement park. 

“Nope,” he suddenly stopped, “because we’re here,” and gently sat you back down onto your feet. 

It took you a second you figure out where you were, but when you followed his eyeline, the pieces slowly began to fall into place. 

Exhaling slowly, “Frank…” you blinked up at the recognisable wide tree with hearts and initials scratched in and marked all along the thick trunk.

“You remember when you told me about this? How you always wanted to carve into it yourself?”

“Yeah, but Frank, we don’t have to,” you glanced back at him with a soft smile, “I mean, that was just a silly little childhood fantasy, like wanting to go to space or slay a dragon or something,” but when he didn’t offer you a reply and instead just conjured a small pocketknife, folding it out and extending it for you to grasp, a tender chuckle bubbled out of you, “wow… you really do love me,” accepting the small blade, you stepped up over the protruding roots and searched for a blank spot of bark. When you found a small area on the trunk just above your head, you then began to scratch the first letters of both of your names in, joined them with a small plus sign as well a slightly wonky heart encasing it all. When you were halfway through, you felt Frank’s presence come up behind you as his palms closed in around your waist and soft pecks began to bloom all along your shoulder. With the chicken scratches complete, you admired them a second, folding the pocketknife back up before you leaned back into Frank’s weight and giggled, “so what’s next?” you slid the knife back into his pants, “are you gonna take me to a playground and help me heal my inner child even more?” 

Letting out a short laugh, “yeah, you never know,” he placed one last kiss just below your earlobe before his warmth suddenly disappeared.

Turning around to face him, you saw as he suddenly began to shed his clothes with a playful smirk on his lips. Chuckling lightly in amused confusion, you halted yourself from enquiring what exactly he was getting at when he slowly began to wander closer to the shiny lake, letting his clothing drop to the forest floor as he neared. 

Your mouth blissfully dropped open a second before you too began to mirror his actions, undoing your buttons and peeling off your garb, stripping till nothing covered you at all. 

He was already knee-deep in the water when you dipped a toe in. Swiftly sucking in a sharp breath, only your feet managed to get wet before you exclaimed, “oh my god, it’s freezing!” and ran back onto shore. 

Reacting quickly, Frank whooshed after you, “oh, no you don’t,” caught you with one of his long arms and dragged you back, “get in here.”

“No! No!” you giggled as he threw you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, marching with you deeper into the lake, “Frank! It’s too cold!”

When the water finally reached his ribs, he swung your fluttering form back down and held you close to his chest. As you sucked in bubbly breaths, you tangled your legs around his hips and your arms behind his neck. 

So, perhaps freezing was a bit of an overstatement. It wasn’t that cold. Now that you were in it completely, it actually wasn’t that bad and became more and more pleasant the longer you soaked. 

Feeling him shift his grip on you, supporting your floating weight with a wide palm on each side of your bottom, your laughter slowly faded away as you gazed back into Frank’s eye, letting yourself get swallowed by the deep coffee irises sparkling back at you before your lips promptly crashed against his, kissing him, nay, devouring him, your teeth briefly caught his plump bottom lip and made him groan lowly. 

Tightening your locked limbs around his burly frame, your boobs smooshed up against his chest as his tongue danced across yours. His fingers flexed and dug into the curve of your ass just before you eventually parted ways, leaving just a sliver of hot air for you to share. 

Breathlessly, you rested your forehead against his and uttered, “you and me…”

“Yeah,” his sturdy nose tenderly nudged against yours as he vowed, “you and me…”

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[theink-stainedfolk]

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For the special request from my beloved @the-inkwell-variable

LISTEN TO THIS SONG RN!!!

---

The evening had settled, casting the room in a soft glow, and Monriur was reclined on the edge of the couch, flipping through an old novel he barely seemed interested in. Enra watched him, leaning against the doorframe, his gaze drawn to the exposed stretch of Monriur's neck, his pulse barely visible under the warm, honey-toned skin. He knew this sight too well by now-the slight tilt of Monriur's head, the way his dark hair brushed over his ear, framing the glint of that emerald earring, ever-so-slightly swaying.

Enra felt a familiar warmth surge within him, that intoxicating urge that flared up whenever they were alone like this. He stepped forward, silent and sure, until he was close enough that Monriur finally glanced up, an amused smirk already forming on his lips.

"Is that look for me?" Monriur teased, though there was a slight catch in his voice when Enra didn't stop, didn't hesitate, until he was close enough to brush his fingers over Monriur's shoulder.

"Of course it's for you," Enra murmured, lowering his voice, the intensity making Monriur swallow. Before Monriur could manage a clever retort, Enra leaned in, his hand coming to rest on the back of Monriur's neck, feeling the slight shiver under his fingertips. Monriur's breath hitched as Enra's lips ghosted along his jawline, leaving a trail of warmth that deepened as he reached the sensitive curve of Monriur's ear.

"You know, you drive me insane," Enra whispered, his voice low and rough, as his hand slipped to Monriur's collar, gently brushing it aside to expose the side of his neck. Enra's lips pressed to Monriur's pulse point, and Monriur's eyes fluttered shut, his hands tightening around the book he still held but had long stopped reading. "Every time you're near me, I can't help but think how much I want you-all of you."

Monriur bit his lip, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. "Is that so?" he managed, though his voice betrayed him, softer than usual. "You might have mentioned that... once or twice."

Enra chuckled, the sound reverberating against Monriur's skin. "Then maybe I should make sure you don't forget," he murmured, his lips tracing the curve of Monriur's neck with agonizing slowness before he placed a soft kiss just beneath his earlobe. The warmth of Enra's breath made Monriur's heart pound, a steady rhythm that only increased as Enra's lips found the sensitive spot at the base of his neck.

Before he realized it, Monriur's hands had drifted up, fingers curling against Enra's shoulders, pulling him closer. Enra smiled against his skin, sensing the shift, and took it as permission to press his lips more insistently, his teeth grazing lightly over Monriur's skin, drawing a small gasp from him.

When he heard it, Enra's grip tightened, his thumb brushing the nape of Monriur's neck as he let his lips trail up, kissing a path from his neck to just below his ear. And then, with a sudden, possessive need, he bit down gently, leaving a mark. Monriur shivered under him, eyes darkening with the rush of sensation.

"Enra..." Monriur's voice was barely a whisper, breathless and unsteady, as he leaned into Enra's touch.

Enra pulled back slightly, admiring the faint flush that colored Monriur's skin, the half-lidded look in his dark green eyes. "Moni," he murmured softly, using that name just for him, his fingers still tracing Monriur's neck. "You're mine."

For a moment, Monriur's face softened, a rare vulnerability shining through before he smirked again, reaching up to trail his fingers along Enra's jaw. "Possessive, are we?" he teased, though the look in his eyes was unmistakably fond.

"Only with you," Enra whispered, leaning down to capture his lips, sealing the promise between them.

---

If you can't find me, I'm here, in this rabbit hole, I'm never coming back from here

My ♡'s : @paeliae-occasionally @willtheweaver @drchenquill @wyked-ao3

[writing-intheundercroft]

Your Ivy Grows // House Elves and Howlers

AO3 Link

Summary: Ominis Gaunt cannot see, but he can feel. He can feel the tall thickets of grass outside of his Aunt Noctua's house, now his for the summer. He can feel the sand down by the beach, the water of the tide pools, the overgrown ivy in Noctua's beloved garden. Most importantly, he can feel the gentle brush of his house guest's hand against his as they take their daily walk. He fears that he may feel much, much more for his new house guest.

Word Count: 5,496

Chapter Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Smut, oral sex F!receiving, NSFW, MDNI

Loving Ominis was easy.

As they lay in the garden together, bellies flopped down on the soft grass, she could forget that Ominis was a Gaunt.  She could forget that she was supposed to be held captive in Noctua Gaunt’s stone mansion, that her impending marriage to a stranger would be the only solution to her father’s debt. She could forget that her time with Ominis was fleeting, and that come summer’s end, she would likely be betrothed and he would be back to London, bound to the marriage cattle call himself. 

If she forgot about all of those things, loving Ominis was easy. 

“Have you finished yet?” Ominis asked, voice strained.

She laughed. “Not quite–stay still.” she warned him, her piece of charcoal marking the parchment.  

“I’m not going to lie, I feel rather exposed.” Ominis whined.

She rolled her eyes in return. “As if you haven’t spent hours in bed, hands all over my body.” she mused. “It’s my turn now to admire you.”

“Yes, well my admiration of you takes place in private ,” Ominis murmured.  He stretched out on the grass, his blush overtaking his body. “You have me naked in the garden, and you’re spending an awful long time drawing me.”

“Idle hands are the devil’s plaything,” she shrugged. “I’m taking great care to get your appendages correct.”

She snickered as Ominis’s blush spread down to his chest.

What she said about idle hands was true. Now having gone months without her wand, her fingers practically ached for something to do.  She missed the feeling of a wand in her hand, and her hands almost felt as if they were vibrating with pent up energy.  She’d decided to channel it into other forms of action–helping Golly manually roll out dough for the day’s bread, hacking away at more of the overgrown ivy in the garden, and now, studying Ominis’s form with charcoal.

“Well if I’m naked, I think you should be naked too.” Ominis announced.  His voice has a cheeky tone; he’d certainly become more bold in the few months that she’d known him.  His skin was slightly bronzed from days spent in the sun, and her breath hitched as his muscles moved towards her.  She shrieked, batting him away as he rolled onto her, pressing her into the grass.

“Ominis!” she gasped. “My art.”

“ You are a work of art,” he breathed, pressing a hot kiss to her throat.  She gasped again as he started to make quick work of the buttons on her dress; her bodice was open, the warm summer air blowing on her skin. 

“You’re wild now.” she teased, helping him tug her blouse off.

“We’ll be wild together,” Ominis said lazily, pressing kisses against her collarbone.  His tongue traced circles around her skin, licking at the salty sweat that beaded at her neck. His knee spread her legs apart.

“What if someone sees?” she whispered.

“You’re the one who suggested I pose nude for you in the garden.  No one will see, ” he mimicked her voice, laughing as she whined beneath him. “So eager.”

“You’re the one who’s done this to me,” she grumbled. “You’ve made me insatiable.” 

Ominis had no response–at least, no verbal one.  He pressed his lips against hers, grinding his hips down. She wrapped her arms around his neck, savoring the feeling of him on top of her.  Once desperate and urgent, Ominis now seemed to take his time with every interaction.  His hand lingered over hers possessively at the dinner table, and he could spend hours laying in her lap in the garden.  At night, alone in their now shared bedroom, Ominis spent every minute possible worshiping her body, luxuriating in every centimeter of skin.  She could only assume his extra attention on her was spurred by Marvolo’s invitation to London–it was clear her keeper intended to parade her on the marriage mart.  Ominis had been able to hold off the trip, claiming a rare summer cold, then a strained back caused by swimming.

The trip remained in the back of her mind, only Ominis’s hands on her body to distract her.

“I have to have you,” Ominis breathed, slipping his hand through her thighs. She moaned as his fingers made contact with her wet center, slipping in without hesitation. The grass tickled her cheeks as Ominis worked her, the skirts of her dress pulled up to her waist.

“Master Ominis, are you in the garden?”

Ominis reacted quickly, pulling himself away and cupping his arousal. Golly’s little feet padded in the distance; without his wand, Ominis patted around, trying to find something to cover himself.

She saw the blanket he’d been laying on for her drawing a few feet away; she held her hand out, wishing it were closer. If only she had her wand, she’d thought.  She could cast accio and have it in her hands.

And suddenly, it was.

She blinked down at the thin flannel in hand before shoving it into Ominis’s hands. He wrapped it around himself tightly, just in time for Golly to walk past the hedges and into sight. Luckily, the old house elf seemed to expect something less than appropriate; she had her hands over her eyes.

“Golly,” Ominis panted. “What is it?”

“Master Sallow has arrived.” Golly said plainly, her hands firmly clasped over her big eyes. “He asked you to meet him in the study. It seems the two of you are rather…preoccupied, so Golly will return to the house and let Master Sallow know you’ll be a little while.”  She bowed her head, still covered, snapping her fingers to apparate back to the house.

“I’m going to kill him,” Ominis muttered, feeling around for his discarded clothes. “He has the worst timing ever.”

She concealed a giggle as she handed Ominis his undergarments and pants, blushing as he tucked himself away.  “We’ll have to continue this later?” she asked, her voice coming out as a squeak while she buttoned her shirt.  She folded up the drawing, sliding it into her pocket.

Ominis gave her a broad grin, baring teeth. “We’ll definitely be continuing this later.” he murmured, holding his hand out to help her up. “I fully intend on making up for Sebastian’s intrusion.” 

They started walking back to the house, his arm slung around her shoulders.  

“I’ve never seen Golly apparate before.” she mused. “I forgot house elves have privileges we don’t.”

“Yes, she has the ability to apparate in and out of Marvolo’s apparition ward.” Ominis explained. “Doubt he even realized she can do so; he rarely pays attention to the elves.  House elves aren’t bound to the same limitations as humans.  They can apparate further distances, cast wandless magic, all sorts of things.”

She chewed on her lower lip as they got closer to the house. “Ominis, have you ever tried wandless magic?” she asked innocently.

He shrugged. “We learned a bit of it in school–wasn’t required to pass though, and I’ve always needed my wand regardless.  Sebastian and our friend were rather handy at it, and we had a classmate who only practiced wandless magic before she got to Hogwarts. Have you ever tried?”

“I’d never even really considered it.” she said sheepishly. It was one of the failings of her at home studies; her mother wasn’t adept with wandless magic, so why would she ever know about it?

“Natsai said her previous school only taught magic without wands,” Ominis explained. “It’s easier to learn when you’re younger and still developing your talents, a bit harder to manage when you’re older apparently. Why do you ask?”

“No reason,” she lied. “Was just wondering about it.”  

She didn’t want to panic Ominis; a simple summoning charm cast wandless and wordless was nothing to phone home about.  And no matter how hard she tried, there was no way she’d be proficient in the talent without a proper tutor.

The two of them walked back up to the house, immediately heading into the study.  Sebastian, looking much healthier and well-rested, was sitting in a wingback chair, absentmindedly flipping through a book.

“Ah, there you two are,” he said coyly. 

“Thanks for dropping in unannounced. Some notice would be nice,” Ominis sneered, releasing his grasp on her to cross his arms. “What brings you here?”

Sebastian shut the book, grinning broadly. “Apologies for interrupting your midday activities again,” he crooned. “But I’ve got an idea.”

“Don’t be foul, Sebastian.” Ominis thwacked him on the shoulder.  “What kind of idea?”

Sebastian laughed, turning to wink at her. “I’ve got an idea that might help you and your houseguest.” he tipped his head to her. “But I’ll need to borrow something from you."

“I’m listening,” Ominis said, settling into a chair. “Go on.”

“I’d like to borrow Golly for a day.” Sebastian explained, falling back into the chair.  

“For what?” the houseguest asked, curiously stepping towards him.  She leaned on the back of Ominis’s chair; his hand absentmindedly flew up to tangle in her skirts.

“For an excursion, one might say.” Sebastian admitted. “I’d like to travel somewhere to meet someone, but I can’t have anyone knowing where I’m going. House elves are–”

“Untrackable,” Ominis mused. “And the people who apparate with them are as well.”

“Right on,” Sebastian snapped his fingers. “And it’s a bit far away, so easier if I borrow a house elf than take the muggle way.”

“How far are you going?” Ominis tilted his head. 

Sebastian grinned like a Cheshire cat. “That’s for me to know, and you to find out once I make sure this ole plan of mine is viable.”

“You and your plans,” Ominis rolled his eyes. “Sebastian is always getting us into trouble.”

“Hey,” Sebastian retorted. “I’m the one trying to get you out of a pickle.  If I were you, I’d be nice to me.”

“Can Golly leave the house for that long?” she piped up. “How does that work, exactly?”

“Good question!” Sebastian said gleefully. “We studied it a bit in school.  House elves–”

“Aren’t bound to the same limitations,” she repeated what Ominis had told her. “Yes, Om has explained that.”

“Oh how sweet,” Sebastian clapped his hands together. “Nicknames already.” he cooed.

“Shut up,” Ominis rolled his eyes, but bit back his smile.

“As I was saying, house elves have their own magic that transcends human magic.” Sebastian leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “But, house elf magic is very literal.  For example, if you’re not extremely clear in what you’re asking, your house elf can slightly deviate from your plans.”

“And Sebastian is banking on Marvolo having not been very specific at all,” Ominis mused. “Good thinking.”

“I’m betting Marvolo asked Golly very simply to keep an eye on you.” Sebastian tutted. “But that didn’t mean she had to be observing you twenty four seven.”

She tilted her head. “And with that in mind, you could borrow her for a day, and she wouldn’t be breaking command.”

“Precisely!” Sebastian said excitedly. “Also, house elves who are bound to a family must obey the command of any family member.  So, how could she deny Ominis if he were to ask ever so politely that she accompany me?”

“You have too much free time on your hands, don’t you?” Ominis arched his brow.

Sebastian gave them both a sheepish smile. “I owe it to you,” he said slowly. “I got you into this mess, and I’ll get you out.”

“Let’s call Golly in, then.” Ominis said. “See what Marvolo asked of her, and if Sebastian’s plan could work.”

Ominis rang the bell; his houseguest and Sebastian settled into the chairs next to the fireplace.  She stared at the handsome brunette; the wheels were turning in his mind, she could tell from the glint in his eyes.  When he noticed her staring, he offered nothing but a polite grin and a tip of the head.

“You rang, Master Ominis?” Golly appeared in the doorway, docile as ever.

“We thought we might ask you for a favor, Golly.” Ominis said, leaning against the desk. He stuffed his hands into his pockets, giving her a disarming smile.

“Golly would be happy to provide any service to the Gaunt family, Master Ominis knows this.”

“Yes, well I’d be asking you to help dear Sebastian here.” Ominis said slowly, his voice taking a curious tone. “Is that even possible?”

“If Master Ominis requests it, Golly will do so.” she rocked back and forth on her little feet.

“I knew it,” Sebastian muttered, pumping his fist up into the air.

“Golly, will you be able to accompany Sebastian and help him travel to his desired location?” Ominis asked. 

“Golly would be delighted to help Master Sallow.” 

“Well, that’s that,” Sebastian announced, jumping out of the chair. “Golly, we should be off within the hour.  She’ll be hard to pin down, this one.”

Ominis raised his brow. “And who are you pinning down exactly?”

“An old pal,” Sebastian shrugged. “You know what I’ve always said, Ominis.  Three heads are better than one. Well, I guess in this case it’d be four…five, if we count Golly.”

“This better not be an excuse to pester her.” Ominis muttered.

Sebastian rolled his eyes. “It isn’t, and you know that.  She’s always got a solution up her sleeve.”

“Can you two stop bickering and let me know what’s going on?” she asked, putting her hands on her hips.

“Sorry,” Ominis and Sebastian said in unison. 

She chuckled at the sight of them–she could imagine them as schoolboys, bickering with one another in the same way.  Ominis approached her, putting his hand lightly on her forearm.

“Sebastian is going to visit an old friend of ours,” he murmured. “I suspect he has an idea, and she can help.  We may not be able to get the spellbook back, but perhaps we can find some way out of this arrangement for you.”

“Golly and I should be going,” Sebastian said loudly. “I promise I’ll have her back quickly.”

The couple accompanied Sebastian and Golly to the foyer; with a snap of her fingers, the house elf summoned a little cloak made of tea towels.  The houseguest eyed the clasp; it was a small snake pendant, with a glimmering opal eye. Golly caught her gaze, giving her a subtle wink.

“Be safe,” Ominis said quietly, clasping Sebastian in a tight hug. “And send my love.”

“She’ll be furious with us,” Sebastian chuckled. “I can’t wait.”

Just as the brunette let go, Golly grabbed his pant leg and snapped, apparating them to the unknown.

Golly’s departure earlier that afternoon had been quite the excitement, but as soon as the house elf and Sebastian disapparated, she realized they were on their own for dinner.  It was clear Ominis had spent very little time actually doing anything in the kitchen but licking the batter spoon.

“Are you sure I’m doing it right?” Ominis furrowed his eyebrows, punching at the dough on the counter.

“I love you,” she laughed, handling her own dough. “But that’s not right at all.”

Ominis wrinkled his nose at the feeling of dough sticking to his fingers. “I think this is better left to the people who can see,” he said plainly.  “Hand me a towel, would you?”

She brushed her hands on the long apron covering her skirt; the tea towels were sitting on the other edge of the table.  She nearly walked over to grab one, but stopped herself in her tracks.

It wouldn’t hurt to try.

She held out her hand, focusing deeply on a little blue towel. Accio , she repeated in her mind, visualizing the towel floating into her hands.  A few seconds passed–nothing.

“Have you found one?” Ominis asked, picking the dough off his fingers.

Accio , she thought again, but with more intensity.  She felt her fingertips crackle with energy, as if she were a magnet.  And just as she’d hoped, the little blue tea towel flew across the room, directly into her hands.

“I did it,” she gasped.

“Did what?” Ominis tilted his head.

“Er, found the towels.” she feigned, pressing the towel into his hands.  She wasn’t sure why she was keeping her newfound power a secret, but she didn’t want to alarm Ominis.  She recalled how testy he’d been when she’d held his wand, and she never wanted him to think she would run.

Ominis took the towel from her, trying to get the sticky dough off his fingers. “Ugh, this is so gross.” he complained.

“You need more flour,” she laughed, dumping more of the white powder onto his hands. She rubbed it into his hands, the little droplets of dough falling off in return.

Ominis caught her hand in his, pressing a kiss to her flour covered wrist. “You know just what to do,” he murmured, dotting another kiss on her pulse.

She gulped. “Ominis,” she breathed, as he pressed kisses up her arm. “We have to finish dinner.”

Ominis flashed a smile, baring his teeth. “I think I’d prefer you,” he claimed, snaking his arm around her waist. He pressed her to the edge of the wooden table, clinging on to her. “Do you realize this is the first time we’ve truly been alone?”

“Alone, in this big house.” she said, the last words coming out as a moan; Ominis pressed his lips to the column of her throat, his hips squarely placed against hers. “What do you have in mind?”

“I think,” Ominis nipped at her skin. “I think that I’d like to take you upstairs, take our clothes off, and not leave until they get back. Does that sound like a plan?”

She laughed as Ominis peppered kisses over her face; flour had gotten everywhere, and her dark dress was now dusted in white wherever Ominis had placed his hands. His blonde hair fell in front of his eyes, heavy with want.

“Take me upstairs.”

The moonlight streamed in through the thin curtains.  She laid on her back, one arm above her head, the other resting on Ominis’s.  He laid between her legs, flat on his stomach, pressing kisses to the soft edge of her belly.

“How are you not starving?” she mumbled.

Ominis sunk his teeth into her skin, and she rolled her eyes, batting at his head. 

“I’ve devoured you, have I not?” Ominis breathed against her skin. 

She wriggled underneath him, but not out of discomfort. Ominis smiled against her, propping up his chin. “Again, so soon?” he mused. “You weren’t joking when you said insatiable, my dear.”

Her breath hitched as Ominis began pressing long, languid kisses against her skin–to her belly, then to the crease of her thigh. His nose brushed her sparse hair, humming in delight as he pressed another kiss to her nub. 

“Ominis,” she moaned. 

“Louder,” he growled against her, pulling her thighs over his shoulders. “I want you to be louder.”

She couldn’t help the cries that escaped her lips as he flattened his tongue against her core. Her voice surely carried throughout the empty house; the door to the bedroom was wide open, their clothes trailing up and down the stairs.  For once, they had complete freedom, and they were going to take full advantage of it.

“Ominis,” she cried. “Ominis, I love you.”

“That’s it, beautiful girl.” Ominis praised her, pulling his mouth away.  It was utterly obscene, a sight she wanted to commit to memory. Ominis’s chin glistened with saliva and slick, a filthy grin on his mouth as he pressed his fingers into her eager cunt.  “Say it again,” he urged her. “Say you love me.”  She felt him push three fingers into her, curling them against that spot, slowly and deliberately.  Through bleary eyes, she could see him lazily palming his arousal with his other hand.

“I love you,” she cooed, both arms resting above her as she let him take control. “Gods, Ominis I love you.” It nearly came out as a strangled sob, considering Ominis made her climax for the sixth time that evening.

“How was that?” Ominis asked, falling next to her on the mattress. He had a smug look on his face, still wet with desire.

She snorted. “Don’t be cocky.” she turned onto her side, letting her hands rove up and down his torso. “It doesn’t suit you.”

“I know,” Ominis laughed earnestly. “But it’s fun to pretend every once in a while.”

“Are you tired yet?” she asked softly. “I thought of a fun idea.”

“All ears,” Ominis lazily draped an arm over her. 

“Fancy a midnight swim?”

Ominis held her hand tightly as they bounced down the stairs, giggling like school children.  They were both stark naked, running down the grassy hill to the beach.  The salty summer air kept them warm, until they crashed into the water.  Ominis kept an even tighter trip on her hand when they started treading water, toes squishing in the sand.  She knew to stay close, her fingers laced with his.

“Have you ever gone skinny dipping?”

Ominis snorted. “Once.  Seventh year, with Sebastian.”

“How romantic,” she cooed.

The water around his body rippled as he laughed, splashing her. “It was a dare, thank you very much.  I won ten galleons for doing it. Nearly got eaten by a giant squid in the pursuit.”

She laughed trying to imagine it, but the giggle trailed off.

“What is it?” Ominis asked.

“It just feels like you’ve lived this whole life already…you’ve had friends, love, experience.” she admitted. “And I’ve only ever had you.”

Ominis was silent; there was no noise in the air, except for the hum of the bugs and the crashing of waves. “Does that upset you?” he asked quietly.

“It…it makes me sad, if anything.” she let out a deep sigh. “Ever since I was a girl, I’ve been told my wedding day would be the happiest day of my life. Yet the more I think of it–the closer we get to the end of this–I realize I’ve only ever been happy here .  Like a piece of me has been asleep this whole time, until we met.” she wrinkled her nose. “And how sad is it, the only time I’ve ever been happy is when I’ve been a hostage, of all things?” she rambled.

Ominis’s face flattened, his glimmering eyes filled with dread.

“Someday, I’m going to walk down the aisle to a stranger,” she whispered. “And for the rest of my life, I’ll be replaying happy memories of you .”

Ominis pulled her into a tight embrace. “Have you lost faith in our friend so quickly?” he murmured. “Do you truly think Sebastian won’t find a solution?”

“Just being a realist, Ominis.  I know it, you know it deep down.” she sighed into his shoulder. “Sebastian may be smart, he might have something up his sleeve.  But I know your brother–I’ve heard enough stories about Marvolo to know that when he’s owed payment, he takes it no matter what.  Besides, we were due to go to London two weeks ago.  I doubt you’ll be able to delay the trip any longer.” 

Ominis chewed on his lower lip for a moment, blinking his shimmering eyes down at her.  He drew in a sharp breath.

“I could ask him, you know.”

“Ask him what?” she pulled her head away slightly, furrowing her brows.

“I could ask him if I could marry you.”  Ominis said simply.

“Ominis, I can’t ask you to do that.” she backed away. “You don’t have to–”

“I love you,” Ominis demanded. “I should marry you. Merlin knows I’ve had my way with you.”

“Your brother won’t get his money–”

“He wouldn’t care,” Ominis declared. “I’m his brother.  He would give me what I want.”

“Are you so sure?” she tilted her head.  Ominis was red in the face, in a way she’d never seen before.

“I can’t imagine it–” Ominis stuttered. “I don’t ever want to think of another man laying his hands on you.  I’m tired of the people I love going away.” he grumbled.

“Oh Ominis,” she said softly, putting a hand to his cheek.

“I wasn’t expecting to fall in love with you,” he droned on, his hands flying to his head as they stood in the water. “And I know it would only be even more unfair to trap you in a marriage.  It would go against everything I believe in to make you a Gaunt, but dammit, but I’m not sure how I’m supposed to just move on.” he said wistfully. “I don’t think I ever could.”

Her heart cracked in half at his words.  

“I love you,” Ominis croaked. “Terribly.”

“I love you too,” she shut her eyes, leaning her forehead against his.  She was glad he couldn’t see the distress on her face. 

“You’re shivering,” Ominis murmured. “We should go back in.”

The walk back up to the house was quiet.  In fact, the rest of the evening was rather somber.  Naked and dripping, they took turns hosing off in the warm shower, eventually tumbling back into bed.  Ominis fell into a deep sleep, but she found herself awake, staring at the handsome man next to her, wondering what to do next.

It would be impossible to stop , she realized. She remembered hating him that first night, after he’d yelled at her in the garden.  But now, like the overgrown ivy she’d tamed in the garden, Ominis had filled the emptiness within her. He fit so seamlessly next to her; once an attraction based on close proximity alone, they’d only tangled themselves into a proper mess by getting physical.  She wracked her brain, trying to make sense of it all, how her companion had become so much more.

As much as she tried to talk sense into their partnership, every snore from the blond made her realize how little it mattered. Ominis had left an imprint on her, and there was no going back.

It wasn’t long before the sun started streaming into the bedroom. She quietly untangled herself from Ominis’s limbs, tiptoeing out of the bedroom.  Picking up his wrinkled linen shirt from the floor, she buttoned it as the stairs creaked beneath her feet.  Her curls were a crunchy, tangled mess, especially after having dipped into the salty ocean water the night before.  That would be a task for later–first things first, food.

She groaned when she walked into the kitchen; it was still disheveled from the night before, dried scraps of unusable dough left on the table with spilled flour.  She took great care to clean it, scrubbing the surface clean so Golly wouldn’t be burdened with the mess when she returned from her travels with Sebastian.

Once the kitchen was tidy, she took on the task of breakfast.  She dug through the larder to find whatever Golly had left for them.  A few sausages would have to do; they sizzled next to the eggs while she dipped stale bread in milk and eggs.  

“Good morning.”

She whirled around at the voice. “Ominis, you’re awake.”

“I smelled food.” he said sweetly, striding into the kitchen.  His trousers were slung low on his waist, wrapping his arms around her as he pressed a kiss to her messy hair. “Did you sleep?”

“Not as sweetly as you,” she chuckled, flipping the bread in the pan.

“I could literally sleep anywhere,” Ominis declared, pulling away from her. “Do we have any tea?”

“I haven’t checked yet,” she sighed. “I’m too tired.”

“We’ll take it easy today.” Ominis winked. “I thought we could go to town–or perhaps spend some more time in the garden, I know you wanted to make headway with the violets today–”

“Ominis, you said you’d ask Marvolo to marry me last night.” she blurted, dropping the hot bread onto a plate. “Were you serious?”

He was silent.  The pan crackled, filling the void.

“Ominis, were you serious?” she demanded.

“Yes, I am.” he said firmly. “Now, can we get started on tea?”

She dropped a plate in front of him. “Ominis, I can’t let you do that.”

“Why not?” he retorted. “We would be together–”

“You don’t want to get married.” she insisted. “And I won’t have you change your plans, your principles because of me.”

Ominis sighed, grabbing her hand. “I would want to marry you,” he breathed. “Isn’t that enough?”

“Did you want to marry Anne?”

He froze. “That’s completely different.” he said, suddenly becoming stern. “Don’t bring that up.”

“Would you have married Anne?” she repeated. “Would you have made her a Gaunt–”

“I knew we’d never marry, it was never an option.” Ominis said, his voice shrill. “She was never going to live long enough to be my wife.”

“But would you have subjected her to becoming a Gaunt?” she insisted, hands tightening into fists.

Ominis was silent for a few moments, his lower lip trembling before he hung his head low. “No.” he said softly. “I wouldn’t want to burden any woman with becoming a Gaunt.”

“I don’t want you to go against your beliefs just to keep me.” she declared. “Not like this.”

“Then what do you want?” Ominis demanded, his face reddening. “You want me to stand aside, watch as I lose yet another woman I love?” he lashed out. “Watch you get married to some complete arse who couldn’t be bothered to court a woman the right way, just pay the right amount of coin?” 

“I’d rather be free, Ominis.” she shut her eyes tightly, rubbing her temples. “I’d rather run, than have the two of us eventually resent one another.”

Ominis faltered. “I could never resent you,” he swore. “I love you.”

“You say that now, but marriages go sour.” her lower lip trembled. “Maybe we made a mistake–maybe we shouldn’t have gotten this involved–”

“I don’t regret a thing.” Ominis declared, surging forward to hug her. “I know it won’t be easy, but we’ll figure something out.”

She shut her eyes tightly as Ominis patted her hair.  Someone had to be a realist, but she didn’t want to break his hope quite yet.  She wrapped her arms around his waist, tugging him in tighter.

There was a crack in the kitchen; she opened her eyes, seeing the little house elf, clutching Sebastian’s pant leg yet again. 

“How sweet,” Sebastian crooned, clapping his hands together in delight. “Ominis, have you been working out?”

“You arse,” Ominis bellowed; he stepped in front of his houseguest to protect her modesty. “Must you be–”

“Ah ah, is that any way to treat your best friend?” Sebastian mocked. “Especially after I’ve gone through all the trouble of finding a solution to your little problem?”

The couple slid apart, mouths agape.

“You’ve figured something out?” Ominis croaked.

Sebastian scratched his messy brunette hair. “Well, almost–about 90% of the way there,” he admitted. “A few kinks we need to work out in the plan, so probably best I keep it from you in the meantime. She says hello, by the way.  She’s delighted you’ve found a new friend.”

Just as Ominis was about to respond, a tawny owl flew into the kitchen window. 

“Busy morning,” Sebastian tutted, snatching the red envelope from the owl’s mouth. The owl took off as quickly as it arrived; Sebastian slipped a finger under the lip of the envelope.

“Wait, Sebastian–” Ominis stepped forward. “If that’s what I think it is–”

“Merlin’s beard, it’s a howler!” Sebastian exclaimed. “Haven’t seen one of these since fifth year. Duncan Hobhouse’s father used to send them all the time–”

“Sebastian!” Ominis warned, but it was too late.

The envelope floated from Sebastian’s hands, turning into a mouth with sharp teeth.  Marvolo’s gritty voice clearly emitted from the charmed letter, snarling as it read off the words.

Ominis–I don’t know what’s going on, but stop putting off your travels.  Bring the girl to my house in London by Sunday, or I’ll have that little house elf’s head pinned to my trophy wall before long.

Don’t disappoint me, brother.

The letter stuck out its tongue, and then burst into shreds.  

Everyone in the kitchen was frozen in place.  She stared at Golly, who trembled with fear at Marvolo’s threat.  The house elf fiddled with the snake pendant at her neck. 

“Well, that doesn’t leave me much time.” Sebastian laughed nervously, scratching the mop on top of his head. “I’ll get to work–”

“No.” Ominis turned to her; his face was unreadable. “We don’t have time–we simply don’t.” he muttered. “That settles it. We’ll go to London, and I’ll ask Marvolo.”

“Ominis,” she strained, but he took her hand, squeezing it tightly.

“It could be worse,” he murmured. “A life with me doesn’t seem so bad in the grand scheme of things, does it?”

She ran her thumb over Ominis’s soft hand. No, she thought. It wouldn’t be bad, but it wouldn’t be what they truly wanted.

Like so much of her life, there was no room for a choice.

[herofics]

Starting a family, part 2

This is part two to this post about Hawks finding out his s/o is pregnant. Someone on wattpad requested for more to it, so here I go

“Keigoo, I’m hungry” you whined as you waddled into the kitchen.

“What would you like?” Hawks asked as he was doing some paperwork.

He had spread his papers out on the whole kitchen table as usual and was typing something on his laptop, before closing it and looking up at you.

You were holding your belly and smiling down at it.

“Do we have some chips and nutella? I want something sweet and salty at the same time”

“I can check” Hawks said as you sat down by the kitchen table. “Is the little man doing okay?”

“They’re fine, and you do realize we don’t know if it’s a girl or a boy, right?”

“I know, I know, but I just have a feeling” Hawks smiled, before adding: “We’ve got nutella, but no chips. You want me to go get some for you?”

“I’m gonna come with you, I feel like I need to walk a little bit, I’ve been sitting and laying around for days” you said, using the edge of the table to push yourself up from the chair.

“You sure? You look like a penguin when you waddle around and even though the store is close, the trip is much longer than from the bedroom to the fridge” Hawks smirked teasingly.

“Hey, be nice” you crossed your arms across your chest and blew a raspberry at him.

“I am being nice, and realistic. Dove, your feet hurt when you walk around the apartment for five minutes and you’re not supposed to strain yourself. You’re almost eight months pregnant and I’m not carrying back you and the groceries” Hawks explained.

“Fine. I’m gonna go sit on the balcony so I can get some fresh air while you go to the store”

“I’m gonna pick up some other stuff too, do you want anything other than chips?”

“Hmm, maybe chocolate ice cream? And pickles? Uuu, and peanut butter?”

“Please tell me you’re not gonna eat all of those at once?” Hawks asked.

“Eeew, no!” you exclaimed with a hint of disgust in your voice. “Well maybe the pickles and peanut butter? It could be good” you wondered out loud.

“I have no idea how that could be good but I’ll bring you whatever you want” Hawks said and kissed you on the forehead, before going to put on his shoes.

“I’ll be quick” he yelled before shutting the door and flying off.

You sat back down on the kitchen chair and sighed. You placed your hand on your belly, hoping to feel your baby kick or move. You didn’t need to wait long until you felt movement. You could feel your lips drawing into a smile as you felt your baby move.

“Your papa went to get us some snacks. He loves us both so much, and he’s going to be a great dad” you cooed to your belly, still smiling.

The baby kicked again and your smile widened. Sure, the pregnancy had been difficult. You’d had pretty bad morning sickness in the first trimester and it hadn’t been easy, even after the morning sickness phase subsided. Your feet hurt all the time, you’d been having pretty frequent headaches and you’d developed a lot of stretch marks which made you feel a bit insecure, but you were still so happy. You were going to have a baby with the man you loved, and he was going to be a wonderful dad. You had been feeling a bit insecure about how you’d do as a first time parent, but Keigo had eased those doubts a lot. He had assured you, time and time again, that you were in this together and that you would both be there for each other and your baby.

Hawks had made his trip to the store as quick as possible, and after ten minutes, he was already starting to fly back. He’d been happily tending to your every need, and he would continue to do so as long as you wanted him to. While he was excited to be a father, he was also absolutely terrified.

His own father had been a bastard to put it lightly. Hawks never wanted to do anything that could make him like his father. He would be the best father to the baby you were carrying. His and your child would never go through anything he went through as a kid, not as long as he had a say in it.

You heard the lock turn and heard Hawks greet you as he stepped into the apartment.

“Hey, welcome back” you greeted back from the kitchen.

Hawks greeted you with a kiss on the cheek and raised the grocery bags on the table.

“You got a lot more stuff than I was expecting”

“Yeah, well I figured I’d get enough so I don’t have to go to the store for a couple of days” Hawks shrugged.

“Thank you, we love you” you smiled at him.

You grabbed Hawks’ hand and placed it on your bump. He came closer and knelt down on the floor to kiss your belly.

“I love you too” Hawks said, and kissed your belly again. “I can’t wait to meet you” he whispered to the baby.

He wasn’t going to let you or his child down. He wasn’t going to be like his father.

[beware-of-the-princess]

Having Ana as a plus-sized princess was always an important part of this project, but it certainly came with its complications. The first of which was that every artist collaborating on this project brought with them a different approach and level of experience with drawing big characters! Parts of this image look weird because it got warped, edited and partially redrawn quite a bit as Ana's look was fine-tuned and the artists tried new ways of drawing her- in particular drawing her bigness.

There were a great many tightropes we were trying to find balance on with Ana's size. Open any fantasy book and you're likely to find a beautiful but stuck-up princess... but very few of them are big. How many people would see Ana and assume we made her fat as a shorthand for being "ugly on the inside too"? Especially if we include details which usually aren't associated with beauty, like stretch marks or sag? This wouldn't be much a problem if Ana was the kind of fantasy character that is expected to have a rounded design, like a kindly, motherly lady-in-waiting, but Ana is the complete opposite!

We also didn't want to give Ana only the features that big women are "allowed" to have, like a curvy rear end or a full bust. We felt it was important to put emphasis on features that young women her age and size are pressured to feel the most insecure about. Ana's chubby arms or double chin don't impede her strutting into a room as she firmly believes a princess ought to: With absolute confidence that jaws will hit the floor in amazement.

But that last point just brings up yet another balancing act. While she might generally be an unstoppable juggernaut of confidence- to the extent where vanity is very much one of her flaws, we also didn't just want to have Ana be drawn big but otherwise completely ignore it. Anyone who grew up in the 90's remembers the slew of disabled characters who, despite being in wheelchairs or whatever, didn't have their disability affect their character in any way or face any challenges stemming from it. In the same way, we felt like it would be hollow to talk about representation and body positivity while failing to acknowledge any of the challenges that fat people (particularly women) face. There's a lot more to say about Ana and the other side of representation, but this post is already too long without going into neurodivergence.

With so many pitfalls to avoid, we included the following at the start of Ana's section of the big character document that we use to keep things consistent between collaborators:

Designing Ana has certainly been quite a process, and I think something that demonstrates that well is just how different she looks in this more recent picture which we've been using to play dress-up with her.

I also wanted to give a small acknowledgement of all the wonderful artists out there that who have shared their processes for drawing big characters or even just whose art has served as inspiration. There's too many to mention, but the names @mayakern @jijidraws and @sergle have come up over and over again while working on this.

P.S. If you want to use this to play dress-up with Ana yourself, then please feel free! I only ask that you somehow let me know what awesome outfits you've come up with for her.

[guess-my-next-obsession]

August — Chapter Five

pairing: frankie morales x f!ofc (rebecca herrera)

warnings: 18+, minor hints of smut but not really, food poisoning symptoms and talk, just these two being domestic and in loveeeeeee, like no proofreading so expect errors for sure

word count: 5k

series masterlist

The world felt more romantic than usual as Becca stirred awake. She felt like one of those women in a 1950’s romance film, delicate and dainty as she stretched her arms with a smile on her face. Though she didn’t wake up beside her lover, Frankie having snuck off before dawn, she could still feel him—the satisfied ache between her legs faint but a sweet reminder that last night was actually real.

That Frankie was actually real.

Becca practically leapt out of bed, hurrying out of her room and down the hall to the bathroom. For some reason, she now felt the need to be put together in front of him—to keep herself desirable, perhaps. With only one more day left on their vacation, she felt the pressure to make her mark on him for good. She didn’t want to become just some summertime fling for him, she wanted it to last long after they’d all gone back to their normal lives.

As she stood in front of the mirror, freshly showered apart from her newly re-curled hair—it could either be styled or it could be washed, there wasn’t time for both—she did her face in a light layer of makeup, adding a red lip that Frankie seemed to like. Persistent knocks rang out on the wooden door, Sam no doubt the deliverer, causing Becca’s hands to shake as she applied her mascara.

“Give me a second!” She called out, hating feeling the stress of feeling rushed while doing her makeup. Another set of urgent knocks sounded and she groaned. Quickly finishing up her mascara and taking one last look at herself, she swung the door open, shouting at what she assumed was her cousin. “I said give me a fucking seco—oh. Frankie. I thought it was Sam.”

“You’re fine,” he stepped inside, hands on her shoulders as he switched their positions so that she was now outside the bathroom. He had a cold sweat on his forehead, one hand coming to rest over his lower stomach. “But I think I have food poisoning. So, cariño, if you don’t mind…”

He shut the door in her face, Becca standing there with a mixed look of guilt for taking so long and concern for his state. As she was about to walk away and let him take care of his business, he opened the door again and spoke hurriedly. “Also, you look beautiful today.”

The door was closed before she could smile at him, amused and delighted that he would take the time to compliment her when he was so clearly sick. Becca wore a proud smirk as she walked back to her bedroom, feeling on top of the world until it suddenly hit her too—the churning in her stomach. “Oh, god.”

Becca rushed down the hall with her hand over her mouth, cursing whatever genius decided to put two bathrooms upstairs and only one on the first floor. She practically leapt up the staircase, rushing to the bathroom just in time to vomit into the toilet.

“Becca?” Her mother stepped into the open bathroom, having heard her rushing up the stairs. Becca sat on the floor, letting out everything she’d eaten in the last day, covered in a cold sweat. “You have it too, huh? The twins also seem to have come down with a little case of food poisoning.”

“Frankie too. It’s why I had to come all the way up here.” She sat back against the porcelain of the bathtub and panted, her body covered in an icy chill as she struggled to keep her sickness at bay.

“I think it was those fish tacos your uncle made.” She frowned and knelt down beside her, stroking the sweat from her forehead.

“Why isn’t everyone else sick?” She groaned, her stomach aching.

“Luck of the draw, I guess.” She stood up and walked over to the sink, grabbing a washcloth and wetting it before handing it down to her. “Both your uncle and Sam decided to go to Tijuana for the night, and I was supposed to come and invite you but it looks like you’re gonna have to stay home today. Oh, and me and your dad are going on a little sleepover of our own for the night, so that kind of makes you a babysitter for the twins.”

“And the bad news?” She mumbled, tone thick with sarcasm as she winced in discomfort. “Go, I think it’s gonna get ugly in here.”

“Okay, call us if you need us. Make sure the girls are okay, as well. I’m sure Frankie can tend to himself.” She kissed her forehead as Becca hurried her out so that she could handle her sickly business.

An hour or so later, dehydrated and exhausted, Becca made her appearance downstairs. Her uncle and cousin had already gone, as well as her parents. The first of the twins, Carla, was asleep on the couch, a trash can resting beside her just in case. Becca walked further into the kitchen and grabbed a glass of water, only able to down it in small sips due to her still uneasy stomach, her hands shaking as she lifted the glass to her lips.

“You survived,” his voice made her jump, her water spilling on the counter. Frankie weakly stepped closer to her, grabbing a dish towel and wiped it up for her. “You somehow still look great. A little jealous of that.”

“I do? I feel like shit, which is funny because that’s all I’ve been doing for the last hour—“ She interrupted herself, wincing at the overshare. “That’s not a very sexy thing to say, was it?”

“Everything you say is kinda sexy.” He flashed her a smile and wink as he reached up into the pantry cabinet to find something bland and bread-y. “Looks like we’ve gotta make a run to the market. We need soup, saltines, and some fuckin’ Gatorade if we want to survive.”

“We?” Becca scrunched her nose at him, giving him a guilty smile as she hoped to silently convince him to let her stay here in bed.

“You don’t wanna come along with me?” He frowned and filled the space between them, his knuckles lightly brushing across her face, eyes flickering between hers and her lips. Becca halted her breathing, thanking god that she found mouthwash in the upstairs bathroom. “I heard we have the house almost to ourselves tonight.”

“The twins are gonna be here, but…yeah, it looks like it.” She bit her lip as she watched him smirk at her. His palm flattened to hold her face as he leaned in for a sultry kiss, neither caring about their sick state as their lips moved slowly together, stirring their already mounting lust for one another.

“Oops—my bad.” Carla walked in, her blanket thrown over her shoulders as she froze in place, watching the scene in front of her. Becca blushed and smiled, eyes assuring Frankie that she didn’t mind being caught with him.

“You’re fine, C.” Becca chuckled and lightly pushed Frankie away, a smirk on his face as he watched her wipe her lips before speaking again. “You feeling okay? Frankie’s about to go to the market. Do you want him to pick up anything?”

“Uh, yeah. I need some tampons.”

“Oh,” Frankie turned to Becca with an awkward, surprised look before turning back to the teen. “Yeah. No problem. Uh, what…size?”

“Just the regular will do.” Carla chuckled lightly as she watched him nod and look at Becca.

“Alright, just send me a text if you think of anything else, baby.” Frankie tested out a pet name in front of her cousin, earning a blushed smile and nod. Carla waited until Frankie left the house to look back at her older cousin, grinning at her.

“Since when are you and my dad’s friend a thing? Is that even legal?” She joked, making Becca chuckle as she poured her a glass of water, forcing it into her hands in hopes that she’d hydrate a bit.

“Yes, it’s legal. I’m almost 25, Carla.”

“And he’s what? Like 40?” Becca nodded in confirmation, amused at her teenage cousins shock. “Do your parents know? Does my dad?”

“No, and let’s keep it like that for now. After we go home tomorrow and we’re not all stuck in one house, I’ll tell them.” Becca carried her water over to the sectional in the living room, sitting down and grabbing the remote. “What do you wanna watch?”

“Watch? I wanna hear about this little romance!” She came over, suddenly full of energy as she pestered her cousin for information. Becca grinned like a smitten school girl and shook her head, determined to keep their relationship private and sacred. “Come on! At least tell me how long it’s been going on.”

“We met the first day of the trip.” She gave in, watching as Carla gasped. “What?”

“Then it’s new. Like super new. And you’re all sick.” Becca chuckled and shrugged. “You don’t care that he’s going to hear you…puking? Or the other thing?”

“I mean, I wasn’t.” She took in a sharp breath, now hyper-aware of the fact that she’d be sharing a very vomit-filled night beside the man of her dreams. Then she realized it—she’d be sharing a night beside the man of her dreams.

“Have you two had sex?” Becca was pulled out of her fantasies of the night ahead of her, nearly choking on her spit.

“Woah! Okay, let’s put on a movie!”

By the time Frankie came back, it was already noon. Becca and the twins laid on the sofa in the living room, Pride and Prejudice on in the background. Frankie stepped into the room with a smile, feeling better now that he’d taken some medicine.

“Alright, ladies. I’ve come back with the goods.” He stepped in front of the TV, earning a groan from the three girls.

“Can you—“ Becca gestured with her hand for him to move out of the way. Frankie obliged and turned around to face the screen, gasping as he realized that they were watching one of his favorite films.

“How dare you. This is one of my favorite movies and you’re watching it without me? ” He turned to Becca with a playful smile, watching as she quirked an eyebrow at him in amusement, holding her hand out and grabbing at the air to ask him to come sit with her.

“Come watch with me, then.” Frankie softened his smile and flickered his eyes the the twins, neither of them caring much about anything but the way Mr. Darcy was looking at Elizabeth. He set the bags down on the coffee table and bent down, lifting Becca’s legs and sitting down close to her before resting them on top of his again.

“They’re so hot.” She commented, the twins nodding in agreement as their eyes remained glued to the screen. Frankie looked over at her, his eyes glued to her concentrated ones, loving how domestic she looked today. “You’re not watching your favorite movie.”

“I’m distracted,” he whispered to Becca, but Carla apparently heard the sentiment too.

“Ew, please…get a room. You’re going to make me sick again.” Frankie chuckled at her comment, keeping his eyes on his dream girl rather than anyone else in the room. Becca snickered at her disgust and pointed her finger in his face to mockingly scold him for his sweet nothings. Frankie grinned as he leaned over at lightly bit her digit, earning another laugh.

“Come on, show us what you bought.” She sat up, taking her legs off his lap and lifting one of the bags onto the seat in between them.

“Okay, so, I got Carla her tampons.” He tossed the box over to her before turning back to the bag. “And I know we’re all dying but I figured a little ice cream wouldn’t hurt, so…I got this giant fuckin’ tub.”

Frankie proudly held up the container of Neapolitan ice cream, Becca’s heart fluttering inside her chest at the sight of him being so domestic and sweet.

“And for lunch, I got us soup and crackers. And then for dinner, I got us more soup and crackers. Gonna be a real soup and crackers kind of day.” He placed the bag filled with soup cans on the floor, noticing Becca reaching into the other one out of the corner of his eye. “And that’s just a shit ton of gatorade.”

“Well done, very responsible.” Becca congratulated him, watching him stand to go out everything away. When he was out of earshot, she leaned in to the girls. “Don’t worry, we’re for sure having ice cream for dinner tonight.”

“Bex, can you come help me figure out the stove?” Frankie called out from the kitchen, Becca practically springing up in response. She walked into the room with an amused smile, chuckling at his lack of cooking skills before being cut off with his mouth pressing against hers. Frankie walked her back against the counter, his hands hoisting her up onto it so that he could stand between her thighs.

She hummed against him as he held her close, his lips quickly reminding her of what she’d been thinking about off and on all morning. Frankie pulled away, smiling and chuckling breathily as he took in her flush.

“I don’t actually need any help. Just wanted to do that.” He tucked her hair behind her ear and beamed at her, watching as she bit her lip and chuckled.

“You know what I realized earlier?” She tugged him back to her with her hands fisted in the hem of his t-shirt. Frankie tilted his head as though to ask her what she was thinking about. “We’re going to get to sleep in the same bed tonight. Actually sleep, too.”

“Yeah, I realized that too.” He grinned, eyes falling to her lips before flickering back up to her brown orbs. “Maybe I can redeem myself. Last longer than a minute this time.”

“I was counting on it.” She smirked up at him and silently dared him to make the first move, watching as he started to lean in to do just that before being interrupted by Ruby.

“Oh, ew.” She scrunched her face and covered her eyes as though she’d just walked in on something crude. Becca pushed Frankie back and scooted off the counter with a laugh, her cousin quickly grabbing a gatorade before retreating to her bedroom.

“Have you—well, I was just thinking about this, and I just started to wonder if—what, uh,” Frankie fumbled over his words, heating a couple cans of soup and avoiding Becca’s eyes. She chuckled and turned his face to hers with a finger on his chin, smiling at him as he turned pink in the cheeks. “I was just wondering when I’m going to see you next, you know? After we go back home tomorrow morning.”

“Well…when would you like to see me?” She asked, heart beating increasingly quick as she studied his nerves.

“Tomorrow night?” He smiled bashfully and shrugged, Becca’s worry turning to delight at his response. She nodded with a bitten lip grin, chuckling at her own fluster.

“Your place or mine?”

“We can stay at mine.” He decided as though it was a complete toss up, though it was the obvious choice given your roommates. “And then you can stay the next night too.”

“Oh, yeah?” She giggled and watched as he gave a nonchalant smirk and shrugged. “And what about the night after that?”

“I think we might be able to make that happen, let me check my very busy schedule that I totally have.” He spoke sarcastically before chuckling. “All the nights. Or, a good chunk of them, at least.”

“Let’s start with tomorrow night.” She leaned over and kissed his cheek. “On another note, I need to go vomit. Been fighting it for an hour now, but it’s time to admit I’ve lost the battle.”

Frankie laughed at her formalness, turning to watch her as she exited backwards awkwardly. “Have fun in there, cariño! I’m not far behind ya.”

Becca spent the majority of the second half of the day curled up asleep on the couch, her uneasy stomach returning but thankfully not as intensely as in the morning. Frankie sat beside her on the sectional, fully cured from his bout of sickness and studying his flight schedule for the coming month now that he actually had someone to see on his off-days. The twins remained watching TV, though Frankie was long past being able to tell what was playing. Some show with a lot of sex and Victorian gowns—normal teenager stuff, he supposed.

“So you and my cousin are together?” Ruby asked out of nowhere, pulling Frankie’s eyes from his tablet. He smiled shyly at her question and nodded, Carla now becoming interested in the conversation as well. “Since when?”

“Since the trip started, I guess.” He shrugged and looked down at Becca, her head using his thigh as a pillow, her blanket pulled up and covering half her face. He reached over and rested his hand on her shoulder, rubbing it through the blanket and smiling softly.

“Do you guys love each other?” Carla asked, watching as Frankie chuckled and looked back at the twins.

“I’ve only known her for a week.” He chuckled at their persistent looks, sighing and shrugging. “I like her a lot. Does that work for you, detectives?”

“What’s her favorite color, then?” Ruby asked with sass, earning another laugh from him.

“Her favorite color?” He asked cluelessly, amused that at their age, that was the definition of knowing someone well. Though, he began to realize he actually didn’t know that about her—what did that mean? Was he not asking enough questions? Did he know anything about her?

“Yellow.” She looked smug as she watched Frankie start to sweat a bit. “What do you know about her?”

“Uh,” he scratched the back of his neck and raked his mind for Becca trivia, coming up short due to the pressure.

“Are you guys harassing him?” Becca stirred awake, stretching her arms and lifting her face from his lap. She smiled sleepily at him when she sat up, lines on her face indicating she slept well. Frankie reached to smooth back her wild mane, his anxiety rushing away as soon as she looked into his eyes. “Also, my favorite color is red. They’re just giving you the famous Herrera gaslight treatment.”

“Red, huh?” He asked, his eyes dropping to her lips, the faintest hint of this morning’s red lipstick staining their plumpness. Becca blushed under his stare and stood up, wrapping her blanket around her shoulders, gesturing her head towards the hallway.

“Come take a nap with me.” She demanded delicately, holding her hand out for him. The twins made their disgust at the affections known as he took her hand and stood up, walking with her out of the room. Before they could disappear, she remembered she was in charge of the girls. “Oh, yeah. Don’t leave the house, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, and if you need me, just knock. Okay?”

“Are you guys going to have sex?” Frankie turned pink and shook his head in embarrassment, leaving her alone and walking to his bedroom to wait for her. Becca chuckled in disbelief at the question, shaking her head.

“No! I’ve been throwing up all day, do you think the first thing I want to do when I wake up from a vomit coma is have sex?” She asked, hearing Frankie’s laughter from her bedroom. The girls began to laugh too, shrugging their shoulders in cluelessness. “We’re just napping!”

When Becca stepped into her bedroom, she chuckled again, shaking her head in disbelief as she crawled up next to Frankie on the bed, nestling her head against his chest. “Those two….anyways, let’s have sex.”

“What?” He nearly shouted, laughing and wheezing at her casual demand. “You just made some very good points as to why we shouldn’t, cariño.”

“What, I’m not sexy because I’ve been throwing up all day or something?” She sat up and put her hand on her hip, pretending to be appalled at his rejection all the while wearing a smirk. Frankie reached for her, pulling her down to his lips, his head shaking as it leaned in to kiss her lightly.

“No, but you are sick and haven’t eaten anything all day. How are you supposed to have sex if you’re running on nothing?” He watched as she rolled her eyes and tossed her leg over his body, now straddling him as he laid flat on the bed. With a raised eyebrow, she shrugged, her hips making circles against his.

“It’s not hard. Just gotta lay back and let you do all the work.” She smirked at him as he slid his hands up her thighs, gripping her hips and pulling her down so that she was completely flush against his bulge. Becca bit her lip and smiled at the feeling, her eyes closing as he guided her against him. “See? You want me too.”

“I always want you, cariño.” He clarified, trying his best to remain rational even though the swelling of his cock was making it difficult. “We should wait until the girls are in bed, though.”

“Boo!” She opened her eyes and frowned, Frankie chuckling at the sight, reaching his hand up to cradle her perfect face.

“I promise, the second the girls are asleep in their rooms, you and I will go at it until we’re dead.” She rolled her eyes and begrudgingly agreed, climbing off of him and cuddling into his side. After a couple moments of comfortable silence, Frankie parted his lips to speak, his fingers lightly trailing up and down her bicep. “They got in my head a little. Started to think I didn’t know you at all.”

“Well, we don’t really know each other like that.” She spoke in a gentle voice, as though she was nearing another satisfying slumber.

“What do you mean?”

“Like,” she rolled onto her stomach and propped herself up in her elbows so that she could look at him. “Like we don’t know each other’s favorite colors, or lucky numbers, or favorite food. But I know everything about the day your mom died, or that you consider your friends family members and treat them like it. I don’t know what your favorite band is, but I know that you’re not afraid to cry at movies. I don’t know trivial shit about you, but I know the shit that counts.”

“Yeah,” he smiled at her, his heart overwhelmed with affection as she spoke so poetically. “But I want to know everything about you. Even the trivial shit.”

Becca studied the sincerity in his eyes and felt another blush coming to her cheeks. She’d never been with a man so interested in knowing the intricacies about her. It was new and exciting to be able to have someone who wants to study her and walk around carrying pieces of her everywhere they go. She wanted to be that for him, as well.

“My favorite color is red, lucky number is 22, favorite band is The Beatles.” She finally spoke, eyes darting between his as she smiled bashfully. “Your turn.”

“Purple. Don’t have one. And does Prince count?” She chuckled and nodded, unable to resist leaning in for another kiss. “I have this layover next weekend, in New York, gonna be there for three days. I was thinking…maybe if you wanted to come along, it could be fun. Or at least more fun than it would be if you weren’t there.”

“I’ve never been to New York.” She tried to hide her excitement over him wanting to claim her so publicly by distracting him with more trivia.

“It’s nice this time of year. Early September in New York is like the perfect time to visit for the first time. I can get you a free ticket. And it’ll give me extra motivation to not crash the plane and all.” He sat up, eager to start planning their future.

It had been years since he felt like this for anyone, the idea of romance having changed so much over the span of his life.

For a while, it felt too out of reach to have someone he could devote his life to—the cost of following this career path—joining the military, and then special forces, and now being a pilot—leaving him with hardly any free time to find someone worthy of such devotion. But here he was, laying in bed with this beautiful, thoughtful, romantic woman who seemed to be on the same page was him about everything. Was it too good to be true? He hoped not.

“What’s your dream place to go visit? If you had your pick of anywhere in the world?” He asked, voice full of interest as she sat up and mimicked his positioning. Becca looked up at the ceiling and hummed, twisting her mouth in thought.

“Croatia. I always thought it looked so pretty there.” She shrugged and turned back to him, his smile bright as he nodded in agreement, internally making a note on where to take her for their first vacation. “What about you? You’ve probably been to all your dream destinations.”

“I don’t have any time to go to my dream destinations anymore. Even if I’m flying somewhere cool, there’s no time to enjoy it. But,” he took in a breath and hushed his complaining. “I think Japan would be pretty cool. Haven’t been there yet. Or South Africa.”

“We could go on safari and see the elephants and shit.” She raised her eyebrows at him, watching as he chuckled in shock.

“Did you know I liked elephants?”

“You’ve got them tattooed on you.” She pointed at the tattoos on his leg.

“For a second I thought you were either a stalker or my soulmate.” He chuckled, watching as she shrugged.

“I could be both, who knows?” She laid back down and tugged on his shirt until he was doing the same, her face nestled in the crook of his neck. “Let’s take a nap and hope that when we wake up, the twins are asleep.”

“Okay, baby. Whatever you say.” He smiled and kissed her temple before turning off his lamp, the two of them drifting off into another round of sleep. It felt good to be able to drift off in each other’s embrace—like it was how it always was supposed to be.

When Becca stirred awake, she was all alone in her bed, a frown appearing on her olive toned face without much thought. Her stomach was still in shambles, the harsh reality that she’d most likely not be able to defile Frankie in all the ways she wanted to bringing another frown to her face. She tossed off the mountains of blankets and scratched her head, stumbling out of the room and down the hall, only met with the sound of dishes clanking in the sink.

“Baby?” She called as she walked past the living room, her hand on her stomach.

“Yeah, cariño?” He called back over the running water. Becca stepped into the kitchen to see him scrubbing away at the dishes that piled up over the day. Cracking a weak smile, she walked up behind him and hugged his back, Frankie beaming even though she couldn’t see it.

“I don’t think I’m gonna be able to rock your world tonight.” She croaked out from behind him, making him chuckle and drop his sponge, wiping his hands on a towel before turning around, her arms still holding him in a soft hug. He held her face in his hands, poking out his bottom lip at her, still half smiling.

“I tried to tell ya,” he chuckled and leaned forward, pecking her forehead.

“But I really want to.” She groaned and cursed whatever bacteria that got into her food and cockblocked her. “It’s not fair.”

“Baby, there’s going to be plenty of chances for us to sin together. Just not tonight, okay? You haven’t kept anything down all day. You should focus your energy on eating, not sex.” He advised, though he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t been thinking about getting her undressed all day long—even when he himself was doubled over in sickly pain.

“Can I drive back to LA with you?” She asked after a beat, surprising Frankie, but not in a bad way—he was just shocked he hadn’t thought of it first.

“What do you think I’m gonna say? No, Rebecca. I would hate your company on my four hour long trip back to our shared city.” His sarcastic tone earned his behind a playful swat, making him chuckle. “Of course you can ride back with me. How are you gonna convince your parents?”

“I’m not. I’m just gonna get in your car, and if they ask, I’m just going to tell them we’re dating.” She shrugged, sounding nonchalant about the whole scenario.

“Oh, yeah?” He smirked and squeezed her close. “Don’t you think they’re gonna have some questions?”

“They can have all the questions in the world. Whether or not I give them an answer, that’s up to me.” She flipped her hair in mock sass, earning another laugh. “I really don’t care anymore. You’re not something I want to hide away.”

“Good.” He leaned down and pressed his lips to hers. “You’re not something I want to hide away either.”

“Okay, I’m gonna go puke my intestines out. Have fun with the dishes.” She quickly shuffled off, making Frankie smile like a little boy in love as he watched her. Turning back to the sink, he shook his head, sighing.

“She’s the one.”

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