#he’s so big and beefy

[sleepysnk]

kunigami kunigami kunigami 😩

[bluehourbucky]

delicious

pairing: beefy!bucky x reader

summary: you obsessed with buckys thicc thighs

a/n: we've all seen the pictures and I know I'm not the first or the only one who's gonna write this but I have to bc look at him

18+

MINORS PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT

|main| bucky masterlist|

anyways

bucky loves how affectionate you are and you're not shy about it either.

you're always touching him in one way or another, he likes the attention he relishes in it.

bucky loves that you show everyone that he's yours as much as he is showing people you're his.

but there's one thing that bucky knows makes you feral and he doesn't know why but he knows what.

it's his thighs you're worshiping like there's literally nothing better on the planet earth than his thighs - and there's not according to you.

you love to put your head on his thighs when you two are on the couch and are watching something, it is rarely that you choose somewhere else to lay your head on. apparently they are comfier than pillows.

another thing you love his thighs for is when you're feeling extremely horny and needy you would use his thighs for your own pleasure and never just one because the other one would feel excluded whatever that meant.

what bucky has a love hate relationship with is the way you tease him and it always starts with his thighs.

him driving you somewhere, your hand is in his thigh so close to his crotch but yet so far away.

out and about in public you squeeze it either for the possessiveness or because you seek comfort it's usually the first thing but oh well

dinner with friends is a torture the gentle touches drive him insane and you live for it.

the way you hold onto his thighs when you're riding him makes him absolutely feral.

but his favorite was when you're choking and sucking his cock and the more you do it you start scratching his thighs harder and harder, you're hugging them with every little atom of your body. even before you get to his cock you always and he means always spend a few minutes on marking up his thighs.

bucky didn't know he could love being marked like this so much but he does and it's no surprise his favorite season has become summer just so he could show off your art work.

he doesn't know if you love giving his thighs hickeys more or him receiving them..

bucky hates to admit but he loves when there's other spaces you could sit on, any chair couch bean bag literally anything, you choose his lap, it does wonders to his confidence.

one time when he was feeling a little insecure about his thighs bucky got a long and very pleasant reminder from you how his thighs are in fact the sexiest thighs on planet earth.

and you remind him of that every day.

"doll me and the boys are going out for drinks wanna come?" bucky asks and you check him out and stand up from the couch and walk over to him.

'in those jeans?" you eye him.

"yes?"

"you're not going anywhere in those, you're going to take them off right now also tell them you're not going that you have some unavoidable business to attend to."

and who was bucky to deny you pleasure of enjoying his thighs.

[the end]

likes comments and reblogs are appreciated <3

[introvertgoat]

i was bored

also a ver w nicky bcs i forgot abt him lol

[jazz hands] i present to u: the monsters !! [crowd booes]

[willowser]

on the topic of princely bakugou—

i love the idea of his hand in marriage being the peace offering between your kingdom and his clan, as in he comes to live with you and rule in your castle. and he genuinely wants to do a good job; he's not coming in and tearing down the walls or defiling shrines or anything like that, because that would be the easiest way to lose good graces with his new realm.

the thing that i love the most about this is him being so barbaric, raised in a completely different way from you, taught to value different things and rule a different way—and yet he's sitting with his council (half of which are appointed men that swear loyalty to the realm regardless of who rules, and the other half being men he specifically chose and trusts) dressed in his furs and boots, scars out for all to see, and he's carefully trying to read letters and documents and negotiations, like a civil man would.

and it's not that he's changing anything about himself; he is firmly, to the core, always going to be a wild little barbarian pup—but he's grown enough to know the difference between respect and surrender. to know that he will be nothing without the support of the people, and to lose that after fighting so hard for it would be foolish.

he's very different than you expected, than you were ever taught to expect; your shared bed is too soft for him and he tosses and turns all night and gets up before the sun rises; he cooks, and you've found him fiddling around in the kitchen on more than one occasion; he values your opinion on a multitude of matters, and speaks to you more about politics than your father ever did.

you were told that he'd ravage you in the dirt, dripping sweat and the blood of your people, but—he hasn't laid a hand on you, hardly speaks to you unless it's absolutely necessary. you can almost feel it, though, sitting in his throat when you're across from him at the dinner table, or when he sits at the edge of the bed and looks back at you over his shoulder.

everything he does is so careful, thought out, and you think he might be doing the same with you, too. not barging in or breaking down doors, but waiting, patiently, for you to open up your heart to him.

[dinogoofymutated]

My worst hear me out has gotta be Sabertooth. He's just so big and beefy but he terrifies me. Like I would never. I would just look 👀 but a man with super senses that are probably stronger than wolverine's is gonna notice. I wasn't always like this I swear not until that brief relationship he had with Monet around the Secret Empire era in the comics. He's vile he's wretched he's bloodthirsty but whenever he's on the side of good bc he's being brainwashed or coerced he's just so sweet I can't get over the idea of this giant burly feral man being protective of the one person he cares about. Also just something about the way he calls his women "frail" as a big girl does things to me. ANYWAY GN

OKAY BUT REALLY. I was literally just thinking about him!!!!! UGH like he's obviously mean and definitely not a very hygienic man but he's so??? Like just look at the size difference of his ARMS and her body in that last Pic like JESUS. I know she's obviously pretty skinny but he's a size to where you know he'd dwarf you no matter what size you are. I also love a man who can pick you up no matter what. 120lbs?? 250?? 400?? You can bet ur ass he's picking you up. Just look at the size of him?? The mustles?? Like I get it. I definitely. Definitely get it.

[thecl0wnfather]

crying actual tears whenever I remember that Halsin canonically does not have any body hair because he's A FUCKING ELF. i can't stand it. me want big hairy beefy elf man, let me have my big gay bear moment please ... his boobs must be so cold... *wipes tears*

edit: im blind, but he aint hairy enough. peach fuzz on a man that deserves a bush

[karkatbug]

he—

[pines4thetwin]

I am a bottom!Stan truther (most of the time) but only cause I love him so much and thinks he deserves to be loved and taken care of in every way (including in bed) soooo

Also Ford topping is hot. Love nerds topping!

[mrsthunderkin]

Don't be fooled, he's absolutely thrilled to see another person

[emry-stars-art]

Got sharkdrew on the brain (thank you @sade-of-spades 😌)

Find the mer au masterpost here 💕

I’m issuing a “find the artist” below the cut:

Now maybe I’m just being stupid bc I don’t know how wattpad works but I don’t see any artist credit on this collection, it looks like the person went for a “none of this is mine, all content belongs to the creators :)” 🥲 at any rate this is my immense inspiration here so if the style/art looks familiar I’d love to know who it is

[pure-oddity]

Fast foodies know the deal

Ghost x reader

(not proof read, this is just fluff straight from the source

Warnings: none, ovulation mention maybe? Its brought up a single time.)

The craving hits around 3 in the morning, it's ovulation week so the idea of not getting chicken nuggets from the drive through makes you want to cry.

You turn towards the sleeping lug beside you. He's on his back, breaths deep and even. Still as a grave but at your movement he takes the arm you had been using as a pillow to drag you further into his side.

Your Simon, took you forever just to get the man to admit he did more than tolerate you. even longer to admit he cared for you. It took you almost using his toothbrush to realize that the man might actually (gasp) like you. That one you didn't push, figured he'd come to terms with it on his own.

As you look at how peaceful he seems you try to fight the urge, you really do, but as you prop yourself up on your elbows and move closer to Simon's ear you resign to begging his forgiveness later.

"Simon, my baby? You sleeping?"

You wouldn't have known he was a awake had it not been for the lone eye opening to check on you

"Was, love. I was. Whats wrong, bad dream? Y' Can turn on the telly to that duck cartoon or the robots - won't bother me none." He rubs a comforting hand up and down your back, he's being so sweet you really do start to feel bad.

"I want chicken nuggets."

Silence.

Both eyes are open now.

The silence continues.

You smile sheepishly.

Wordlessly simon extracts his arm and turns so his back is to you.

"Nnooooooo! Simon pleeeaase. Pretty please? I want chicken nuggets so bad!"

"Go ahead. keys are on the rack, tanks full."

"Nooo you have to take me! come on baby please, for me?"

"My love. Sunshine. Light of my life. If you're hungry i made a perfecly good roast last night. Heat that up and let a man rest."

"I dont want a perfectly good roast! I want chicken nuggets. And a burger. And fries - oh maybe a shake?" You lean over him, hair purposely hung over into his face. He turns quickly and you're nose to nose

"So youre gonna have me get up at 3 fucking a.m. to get you a greasey, artey clogging, cholesterol raising gastrointestinal disaster of a meal - when we have a perfectly good home made dinner in the fridge."

"....please?"

Silence.

A deep suffering sigh.

An ecstatic squee

"Just get your fuckin shoes on"

------

You lean back over into the passenger seat, simon grumpy faced as you insisted that you should be the one to order.

You pat your thighs in glee as he pulls up to the window, gives you a dirty look , and hands the cashier his card.

The second window delivers your meal and drink quickly, you dig in like a starved animal. You're mid chew when he gives a grunt. A snooty sounding eh hem.

You grin and giggle, slowly airplaning him a nugget.

"Give me the chicken or i'll take the whole box"

You squeak and shove it to his lips quickly. His jaws snap around the nugget and it's gone within a single bite - you retract your fingers, still intact but wet with spit.

You give an 'eeeech' and look for somewhere to wipe your hand.

"Any of this ends up in or on my interior and it'll be your arse."

You roll your eyes and reach in the bag for a napkin, knocking the fries over in the process.

Silence.

The car drifts slowly to the left and is parked along the side of the road.

Not a word spoken.

You try to shove as many back into the carton as possible.

He stares at you.

You smile sweetly at him before leaning over the center console and kissing him. You meet his lips, they're stretched into a dangerous grin.

"Love" kiss "did you" kiss "spill salt" kiss "in my truck?"

You might not know a lot, but you know that voice means you're in trouble, which means it's distraction time.

You continue your sweet onslaught of kisses.

"Thank you for taking me baby, I love you so much. ", another smooch

is delivered.

"Youre my person, my favorite guy, love of my life."

He bites at your lip and you barely manage to slip it from his teeth

"Wanna spend the rest of my life with you, grow old with you"

He grips the back of your head and maneuvers your ear to his mouth, in a deep rumble he asks

"Are there fries on my floor, love?"

The dangerous smile still present.

"No of course not baby! i cleaned those up."

"So my truck is fry free?"

"Well - no didn't say that. there's a, a few under the seat"

He's grappling you into his lap now, the man looks a hint deranged.

"And why, my love, are you telling me about them instead getting them?"

he presses.

"'Cause I - hehe - I can't reach!" You giggle out as his hands slink towards your sides.

He pokes and prods at you, growling not unlike a bear while you squeal and squeak out little laughs.

"Gets a man up at ass o'clock-"

"Oh please, you get up early anyway!"

"makes him drive to get congealed grease-"

"you had a nugget too!"

"Then trashes his truck."

"Oh please it's like a handful of fries, I'll get them, i'll get them!"

He frees you with a huff and you dive back over to your side of the car. You pop open your door and hop outside to get a better angle at the underside of the seat. He gets impatient as you fish around for the last few fries, giving a little hurrah as the last one is snatched.

Clambering back into the truck you grin at him, happy as can be. He hums a short laugh, and you're off to home again.

He makes a beeline for the bedroom and you trot over to the counter to finish your meal, most of it having been shared and eaten in the truck. You sit back a moment to enjoy the feeling of fullness when you see Simon emerge again.

"Bed. Now. Kept me up long enough" he's already on you before you can think of a reply, slung over his shoulder. He makes quick work of getting you both situated in your proper spots.

You're snuggled into his side for the night, full and content. He breathes in deep and exhales slowly. you draw nonsensical patterns on his bare chest, playing with the hair there. As sleep overtakes you, your palm flattens over the spot where his heart resides; and you feel him relax just a smidgen more.

[yeahimcal]

Jason Todd who is a big strong guy but absolutely melts when you press your lips against any part of his body.

A playful kiss to the back of his hand? He’s giving you the biggest heart eyes in the world. A gentle kiss to his forehead when you’re snuggled up in his bed to hide from the Gotham winter? He’s making a noise that might actually be a purr and he’s pulling you as close as possible. His cheek? He’s melting into you and nuzzling against your cheek.

If you kiss his scars be prepared for him to be the most pliant hunk of man in the world. He’s just staring at you with so much genuine adoration and love in his eyes that he’s choking on his words and he can’t stop smiling. He’s returning the favor as soon as possible, of course, kissing you silly before worshiping all your insecurities and telling you how much he loves you…

[slytherizz]

In The Shadow of Us - Sebastian Sallow x Female!MC/Reader

a/n Scene from Chapter 11 of 'ItSoU' commissioned from the incredibly talented @diligentcranberry as a Christmas present to myself - It's so pretty I still cannot stop staring at my traumatised darlings. I never really shared much of my long fics on Tumblr besides the first chapters so here's some smut.

Chapter 11 Tags: Smut | Angst | Post-Azkaban!Seb | Enemies to Lovers | explicit sexual content | explicit language | forced proximity | Only One Bed (life sentence in Azkaban for me and my tropes)

You can read the complete fic on Ao3.

Chapter 11 under the cut...

The streets of Hogsmeade were deserted besides a small grey cat that scurried along the chimney stacks. Perhaps the return of Ashwinders to the area had scared most reasonable people to their beds. But neither she nor Sebastian had ever been reasonable people and they stood oddly calm in the night air outside the familiar tavern she'd apparated them to. 

“I don’t want to go back to Poppy’s - too dangerous. Harlow may be bold but even he’d think twice before darkening Sirona’s door,” she said with a tight smile. Sebastian recalled that first trip to Hogsmead and was pleased to know some things hadn't changed.   

She pushed through the heavy doors of the ancient pub. It was quiet. Where one would usually find patrons huddled in corners, playing cards over stiff drinks there were empty chairs. Where you'd see student that had sneaked out of the castle to drink and sing crude songs of their rival Quidditch teams until Sirona would shoo them out in the wee hours of the morning, there was silence. There would be no stumbling drunken feet of friends and young lovers up the long path to the castle castle tonight.

“Sirona?” she called and her voice echoed through the emptiness. The older witch appeared from behind the bar, her wand in hand as if she expected trouble to come knocking more than revelers these days.

“Oh, there’s a face I haven’t seen in a while. Hello, love-” her eyes landed on Sebastian with a look of surprise, but her eyes softened as she took him in. 

“Hello son, you look like you could use a drink,” she smiled. Sirona looked older, her hair peppered with grey around her temples the creases around her eyes more defined but her manner was familiar and Sebastian felt the tension leave his shoulders. 

Sirona like any good innkeeper, had that innate ability to sense your needs before you had a chance to voice them. With a flick of her wand two glasses of firewhiskey settled on the bar in front of her. Sebastian took a seat on the high stool and took a deep gulp from the glass relishing the burn as the amber liquid slipped down his throat. 

The witch slid into the space seat beside him and took a tentative sip from her own glass with a wince. She never had been able to handle her drink and he laughed slightly at her sour expression. 

"It's good to see you, Sirona," Sebastian said honestly. Sirona had always been kind to him. An aunt like figure to Sebastian and a shoulder to lean on more times than he’d care to remember. She'd seen him grow from a mischievous boy into a troubled young man, but unlike other she had never drawn back from Sebastian. Much like the pub itself Sirona was a constant pillar of support, always open when someone needed it most. 

Sirona poured herself her own glass, and topped up Sebastian's. She leaned back on against the counter on the opposite side of the bar her eye flicked between the two of them. 

"I won't ask exactly what event have led to you both being here tonight," she gestured between them amused "I know you can't tell me about your work dear, as much as I'd love to know the details - my guess it has something to do with Harlow."

"You're too perceptive for your own good, Sirona," the auror chuckled. "I promise, you'll be the first to know when this is all over."

"I hope so. Business has been dreadful, the inn is doing well but my bar sales..." she grimaced "Hogwarts is practically under lock down and even I'm beginning to miss the Gryffindor Quidditch team's terrible singing." 

"No one wants to be on the streets these days so most of my rooms are full. Unfortunatly, you'll have to share." The witch sucked her bottom lip between her teeth and looked at Sebastian nervously through her lashes. It wasn't like they had never slept together before. They had infact done a lot more together than sleep, it was almost amusing how this woman who had fought fully grown trolls at the tender age of fifteen, who had spent the last five years fighting dark wizards; yet Sebastian made her nervous and he luxuriated in the knowlege. He shrugged at her, as he schooled his features into an unreadable mask. Sirona's eyes flicked between them. 

The witch beside him stretched her arms as she yawned and wrinkled her nose at the dirt crusted under her fingernails. 

“It’s the usual place in the attic, dear. The bathrooms just down the hall,” Sirona smiled warmly at her. The witch finished the last dregs from the bottom of her glass, stifled a cough on her sleeve from the burn and slid off the stool to make her way upstairs. 

Sebastian tracked her movements across the bar before she slipped up the stairs. A knowing smiled tugged at the corner of Sirona’s mouth, her eyebrows quirked and he drowned the lump that formed in his throat with a deep swig from his glass.

“I must admit despite the circumstances - it's nice to see you both together again. You two were inseparable as teenagers and both so serious too. I guess with hindsight, I know why…" a sad smile deepened the creases around her eyes. 

"We bring out the worst in each other," he sighed with a shake of his head.

"I'm not so sure. Unfortunately, I think you both would be who you are no matter what. You both had to grow up far too fast, but I think you understand each other in a way others can't."

“Maybe we didn’t understand each other as well as you thought,” he grumbled. If she truly understood Sebastian wouldn't she have stood by his side after everything that happened but her words still rung in his mind -

I would care.

Sirona fixed him with an assessing eye, as if she was peeling him back. As if she could sense every hateful, lusty and confusing thought he’d had of the witch upstairs. Sebastian shifted uncomfortably under her gaze and she softened. 

"Not everyone gets a second chance at happiness, Sebastian. Don't waste yours."

Sirona said it like it was so simple. Like he could erase the last five years if he let himself. Coming from anyone else he would have hexed them. Sirona she met the world through the doors of this old pub, listened to everything from the lamenting of love sick teenager and world weary travelers who'd seen the darkest crevices of this world. He didn't know where his own problems fit in to that scale but he rolled it over in his mind.

A second chance. The words soothed his soul.

***

The summer at Poppy’s had done him good. Sebastian stared at his face no longer gaunt and hollow through the steamed up mirror of the small bathroom in the Three Broomsticks. If it wasn’t for the tattoos that covered his torso and crept up his neck he would barely think he’d been in Azkaban at all.

His clothes no longer hung off of him as he’d regained the strength and despite the nightmares that still haunted him nightly his eyes were no longer framed by dark bruises. The constellations of freckles that peppered his face and shoulder had returned in earnest, dark across his nose and cheeks. He adjusted his towel around his neck to cover the tattoo on his chest and placed his hand over the one on his neck.

This is who he would have been, if he’d never been to Azkaban.

He muttered a scourgify on his trousers before he pulled them on. Spells never made his clothes fully clean and not wanting to dirty himself further he left his dusty shirt in a the wicker laundry basket. Sebastian padded across the hall and hesitated in front of the door. He couldn't hear anything from beyond the door. 

With a long exhale he stilled his breath and rapped once on the door to announce his entrance.

She leaned against the windowsill her arms crossed over her thin nightdress. Her hair was loose from its braids and it fluttered in the warm summer breeze from the window. She watched the streets with a feline stillness, like an assassin on the roof alert and vigilant. Her eyes flicked up to meet his own as the door creaked, announcing his arrival. 

He clicked the door behind him but he could feel her eyes on him. Sebastian raised his eyebrows at her a small smile tugged at his lips at the way her eyes roamed over the bare expanse of his chest. The room seemed stiflingly small, the low vaulted ceiling left little space for more than the bed and a small nightstand. She was propped up on the windowsill, Sebastian leaned beside her and felt the warm air lick over his skin. 

She swallowed audibly and pulled her lower lip between her teeth. He see her from the corner of his eyes scan the bare expanse of his skin. 

"What do they mean?"

"You're an auror, I thought they would teach you this kind of thing?" Sebastian frowned. 

"No."

Sebastian moved in front of her her and caught her hand in his, admiring the way her chest swelled as she held in a tight breath. He brought her fingers to press into neck, his skin tingled under the featherlight touch.

“This is me. Prisoner identification number,” he supplied, as he turned so her fingers could glide down his spine "These mark each unforgivable curse, they found when the Wizengamot surveyed my wand."

Her nimble fingers traced each ugly black stain on his skin in turn. 

Crucio. Imperio. Avada Kadavra.

She lingered over each one, as if they were familiar like she knew they should decorate her own skin. 

Sebastian turned slowly back to face her and took her hand in his once again. Finally, he pressed her palm flat over the one on his chest. Directly over his heart. He knew she could feel how hard it pounded in his chest. Sebastian's face so close to hers, he could feel her stuttered breaths against his freckled cheeks.

"This is my sentence. Life In Azkaban." She sucked in a breath through her teeth. 

Sebastian didn’t want to explain the one on his wrist. The one he scratched at more fervently than the others. A particularly cruel form of punishment designed especially for him. When they peered into my mind, saw what tortured him most; It was always her. They’d inked her name in their ancient texts.

They stared into each other for what felt like an eternity. He waited for her to pull back, to recoil from him. Waited for his own body to do the same; to remember every aching moment of the past five years. But with her hand still pressed against his skin, her eyes boring into his own every rational thought burned away.

Sebastian wanted to be the version of him that stared back at him from the mirror. The one that did not bear the weight of the last five years. 

He let his lips ghost across hers.

Sebastian wondered if this was some new form of torture and this was some feverish fantasy of a man slowly dying in Azkaban. Or if they'd chained him to her on purpose, the only one who made him feel blood boiling hatred and blinding desire. A kaleidoscope of feelings, brutal, dirty and wonderful. To make him lose every rational thought in his body as her mere existence overwhelmed him before they ripped it away. 

She whimpered into the hairbreadth distance between his lips and hers. A pleasureful little sound that made some primal part of Sebastian practically purr with need. With one hand still pressed to his chest her other to wrapped around his neck to roughly pull his lips to hers in a feverish kiss.

Sebastian’s hands fisted into her hair, drawing her into him. The taste of her, the feel of her pressed against him made him feel like the world tipped on its axis. He nipped needily at her bottom lip and she gasped, granting him access to flick his tongue between her now parted lips.

She kissed him back feverishly, her own tongue collided with his own. He knew no one had touched her like this and it was like they’d both been starving. Her lips hungry against his own.

But he needed more.

In his desperation to feel as much of her as he could, hold her to him so she couldn't be stolen from his grasp Sebastian maneuverer her back until she collided with the wall. He pressed the entirety of himself against her, shamelessly dragging his hands along her curves.

He knew he was being rougher than he’d ever been as his hands groped every inch of her. But he was a man starved of touch for so long and he clung to her as if his very life depended on it. She seemed to crave that hardness as much as he did, as she ground her core against him where his leg had nestled between her thighs. Her fingers clung to his shoulders; her nails decorated half-moons amongst the splattered freckles. He hissed with delight at the pleasureful pain, as it broke through the numbness he’d felt for so long.

He grasped her chin to access her neck, to trail fire down her skin as he nipped at her thundering pulse. His teeth grazing every inch of her throat.

Sebastian snaked down the dips of her curves, to pinch and knead at her sides through the fabric as he worked his way to the hem of her nightdress. He slipped under her skirt to squeeze her backside and he savoured the vibrations in her throat against his lips from the groan that escaped her lips.

With how soft her skin was against his calloused hands he wanted – no needed to feel more of it.

She groaned in protest at the loss of his lips as he pulled the offending garment over her head. As if to stop their passions for even for a second would stifle the flames.

Sebastian stopped his assault on her skin to drink her in. His hands swept over the curves, fuller than he remembered, over the puckered skin of faded battle scars. In the soft lamp light, her hair unbound and wild, her lips swollen and her chest heaving she looked fucking exquisite.

She pulled him back into her roughly, her teeth knocked against his as her tongue delved into his mouth once more. Her fingers entwined in his chestnut hair, he shuddered as her nails scratched against his scalp. Sebastian hands resumed their assault, exploring ever dip and curve of her exposed flesh he’d devoured with his eyes. Intoxicated by the way her nipples pebbled as he grasped her breasts in his calloused hands. He captured the needy mewls that escaped her as he rolled them between his fingertips.

Sebastian trailed his hand between the peaks and down her stomach. His fingers grazed the sensitive spot between her thighs through the lace of her knickers. He chuckled against her lips as he slid his hand beneath the already damp material. Her folds were already slick and needy. Her lips didn’t say it, but her wetness told him she craved him as much as he did her. He stroked tantalising circles the small bundle of nerves, savouring every moan and whimper against his lips. He could feel her heart hammer in her chest. She ground her hips against his fingers as her eyes fluttered closed as a waves of pleasure crashed over her.

“Look at me,” he commanded. Her eyes snapped open to meet his own, she looked at him through hooded eyes “I want you to know it’s me - Who does this to you. Makes you feel like this.”

Her lips were parted as if she was going to respond but any words died on her lips as he slid a finger inside of her. Sebastian crooked his finger to find that spot inside of her that made her knees buckle. Her head lolled back against the wall with a throaty cry, barely held up by her weaked legs but her eyes never left his. He nipped at her throat approvingly.

Sebastian was achingly hard and strained against his trousers. He relished the friction of where his cock was rutted against her thigh. The scent of her own arousal coupled with the feel of his own was a heady concoction. He wanted to feel her climax under the entirety of him not just his fingers.

He withdrew sharply from her; a groan escaped her at the loss but Sebastian was quick. He unbuckled his belt and tore the leather from around his hips. His hands groped her perfect backside, as he lifted her up. She yelped in surprise, but her thighs instinctively squeezed round his middle. She kissed across his freckled face, and nipped at his earlobe as he carried her.  

Sebastian flung her onto the mattress and it creaked under her weight. He shoved off his trousers and underwear in one swift motion. His hard cock arching proudly, relieved to finally be released from the confines of his trousers. He prowled up the bed towards her and she lifted her hips so he could peel her knickers down her legs.

He ran his hands along her shapely calves and trailed his mouth along her stomach. He took her nipple in his mouth; he flicked his tongue over the bud whilst his hand re-found the bundle of nerves at her core. He circled it twice before teased two fingers into her entrance, she groaned and rutted her hips shamelessly against his fingers. She wanted him, her kiss swollen lips wouldn’t say it, but her body couldn’t lie.

She clasped at his freckled cheeks and pulled his lips to hers again. He growled with satisfaction as moved her legs apart expectantly. Caged under the full weight of him she wanted to feel all of him, between her legs.  

Sebastian aligned himself with her entrance and paused to savour the lusty look in her eyes. Sprawled out below him, bare and wild like a nymph from some Greek tragedy that would surely be his undoing. They would be each others undoing. 

She wouldn’t say it, but he knew he needed to hear it from her swollen lips. 

“Beg me for it,” he growled low in her ear, his nose burrowed into her tangled hair.

“W-What?” she stammered. Her pupils were blown wide, and he savoured the mix of confusion and lust that swam in her eyes. He knew she wanted him. He could feel it between her thighs. But he wanted her to proclaim it, to know he wasn’t mad to think this was something she didn't just want but needed; just desperately as he did. 

“I said - Beg. Me.”

“Please-” she murmured as her hips inched towards him.   

“You can do better than that,” he purred, as he teased his hardened length across her folds once more making her groan.

They both knew this was insane. But if he was going to succumb to complete blinding madness, throw all rationale away; then she was coming down with him.

“I want you- I need you inside me. Sebastian, please,” her fingers scratched across his freckled shoulders in a desperate attempt to pull him inside of her.

Sebastian practically purred with delight to hear her beg for the man she’d condemned. Satisfied he sheathed the entirety of himself inside of her with one strong thrust. Her eyes rolled back and her eyelashes fluttered as she arched her back as he filled her. The feel of her pulsing heat around him almost sent him immediately over the edge. He released a groan of his own, low, and deep.

This was not the tender explorative touches of teenagers it had once been.

With every deliberate thrust into her, he drew incomprehensible moans and pleas to deities from her lips. Her hips bucked to meet each stroke as she writhed under him. Her calloused fingers mapped his skin, over each tattoo along his spine. Each one a mark of the sordid past they shared. She traced every freckle in every impossible spot no one had seen but her. The sensation of each featherlight touch and rough scratch sent shivers cascading through him.

Sebastian’s mouth fixed on her neck, leaving red welts where he sucked at the skin like he could replicate the branding of her that marked his own skin. To claim what had always been his.

As he ground his hips against her and she arched her back in approval, Sebastian wrapped his arm through the vacant space below her. He hauled her up to leave more bites along her chest. His other hand fisted possessively into her hair as if he despite the impossibility he could be closer to her. Each frantic thrust brought incoherent curses and praise from her lips. He felt dizzy with how her hips jerked demanding as much of him as she could, with how perfectly he fit inside her even after all this time.

Her nimble fingers pushed his still wet hair from where it had dropped into his eyes. She pressed her lips to his to absorb the curses and moans he hadn’t even realised were spilling out of his own mouth.  

Sebastian caught her trembling leg behind her knee in a bruising grip to hitch it up. To roughly plunge himself deeper inside of her, she released a strangled cry of approval. Her legs were strong from years of fighting, but he admired the valleys and dips he created in the soft skin of her thighs with his fingers. Her breathing hitched becoming more frantic as the angle pushed her to new heights of bliss. Every rasped moan spurred the motion of his hips as he eagerly chased the sounds only he could draw from her.

He could feel her body begin to tighten and pulse around him in a way that was maddening. Sebastian was desperate to feel her peak, but his body had a mind of its own as he thrust into her desperately, he knew his own release build deep in his gut. The last coherent part of his brain not overtaken by an animalistic need guided his hand down her stomach to stroke her clit. The overwhelming sensation of his cock and his fingers had her keening and stuttering as she began to crest her peak.  

“Say my name,” his voice no more than growl, as he struggled to hold back his own release.

Amongst the other senseless words that escaped her she cried his name. Loud and desperate from her swollen lips; an intoxicating sirens call, he would follow willingly to a watery grave. She hauled him down to bring his full weight on top of her as she climaxed. The way she said his name, even when she was near delirious, practically vibrating as she rode her orgasm.

To know he was the one who made he feel like this. The only one who could make her skin feel like it was on fire. The only mans name she’d ever cried when her earth shattered.

He slammed into her hard and fast prolonging that feeling of ecstasy for as long as long as his own frenzy would allow. But the feeling of her trembling release, and the continued raspy gasps of his name made his hips faulter. His teeth bit into her shoulder to muffle her own name that slipped from his lips in a guttural moan as he released inside her.

Sebastian’s chest heaved as his heart rattled against his ribcage, as he came down from his own earth-shattering bliss. They stayed like that for a while, his head pressed into the crook of her neck, still inside her to the hilt. Every inch of his skin where they were connected felt like it was on fire.

He didn’t kiss her again.

Sebastian rolled off of her, and she whimpered slightly at the loss of him inside her. They lay there together, sheets tangled around their limbs their minds fogged from their shared ecstasy.

Her mallowsweet scent was on the sheets, on his skin; it soaked into Sebastian’s mind. It silenced intrusive questions that simmered in his mind about what they’d just done. He knew they would come; he’d have to face them eventually but for now he wanted to pretend things were different.

So, for the first time in years - Sebastian slept and didn’t dream.

***

Sebastian woke as the dawn light streamed through the curtains. Golden hues illuminated the witch still curled beside him. The sheets tangled around her doing little to hide the curve of her hips, her hair fanned out around her like a halo.

He groaned and rubbed his eyes. His brain felt loud as too many questions bubbled to the surface and made his head spin.

She stirred slightly when the mattress dipped as he climbed out of bed, but she buried her head back into the pillow. Sebastian released a relieved breath he didn’t realise he was holding. He needed to clear his head before he was ready to face her. He pulled on spare clothes from the nightstand Sirona had left out for him and slipped out the door.

It was the crack of dawn and Hogsmead was still very much asleep. He walked the empty cobble streets and tried to make sense of the complicated cocktail of emotions that bubbled in his chest. Sebastian seemed to be existing in a plane somewhere between self-loathing and infuriating yearning. 

Sebastian didn’t know what this meant for him, let alone for her. For them.

Could a version of them even exist anymore? Sebastian wondered if he even wanted it to. As much as he wanted to pretend the past five years hadn't happened they had and like a self fulfilling prophecy she had gotten under his skin, clouded all rational thoughts and distracted him from his mission once more. 

He’d began his slow plod back to the Three Broomsticks, resigned to the fact that he must face her eventually. He hadn't quite decided whether he wanted to pretend it had never happened or make her scream his name a hundred more times when a figure stepped into his path.

Sebastian froze, his hand instinctively reached for his wand. He cursed himself for being so wrapped up in thoughts of her that he’d left it in his old clothes. He squared his shoulders and met the amused stare of the stocky man in front of him.

“No need for dramatics, Sallow. I’m not here to hurt you,” chuckled Harlow. Sebastian should be shocked a wanted man like Harlow would appear so brazenly in the streets of Hogsmead. Maybe his own actions had last night had tapped him out and nothing could suprise him more than himself.

Much like Sebastian, months on the outside had brought a fullness back to Harlow’s face. Although no longer hollow cheeked his fine clothes did little to hide the ancient letters branded across his neck. But perhaps Harlow wasn’t trying to hide them, didn’t feel them burn into his skin as Sebastian did.

“Some how I find that hard to believe,” Sebastian ground out through clenched teeth. If it wasn’t for the knowledge that the auror would probably have to scrape what was left of Sebastian off the cobbled streets he would have launched himself at Harlow and tried to rip him apart with his bare hands.

“Come on now mate, we’re friends, aren’t we? Besides - I owe you, Sallow. With all our little chats, you’re the one who gave me my grand idea,” Harlow said with palms to the sky. His open face and arms mimicked the posture of a pious man of the cloth so at odds with the man Sebastian knew him to be.  

Sebastian’s felt the bile rise in his throat. What idea had he given him?

“I was thinking too small. Blackmail, bribery - why do all of that when I could be Minister of Magic? Wielder of dark ancient powers. Get revenge on the girl who locked us both away. Who could stand in my way? You understand don’t you, what it’s like to have that kind of power at your fingertips. What it would feel like to make them pay. Clever I admit, earning her trust before stabbing her in the back,” Harlow cast a wry eye over the collection of bruises that had formed below Sebastian’s jaw, and he chuckled. “She is a pretty little thing I admit. Don’t blame you for wanting to fuck her first.”

“You can’t get to the repositories. The goblins tried, it’s pointless-” Sebastian began. 

“I don’t need those repositories; I already have enough from what the goblins took to fix this,” his yellowed teeth broke into a wide smile, as he presented the pieces of the broken relic from the catacomb. That’s what Bettie had been desperately clutching to her chest “Then I can take her power for myself.”

The relic.

The one that could control the dead, dark magic and grant you any impossible desire if you paid it in blood. A man like Harlow would not be far pressed to provide it with a dark sacrifice it demanded. 

Sebastian felt a blood grow cold in his veins. Sebastian had spilled his secrets to the man beyond the wall and now they were all going to pay for it.

“I’ll see you round mate. Give her one for me will you,” Harlow winked. He whistled as he strode off through the vacant streets leaving Sebastian alone.

***

Sebastian stumbled back to the pub in a daze. His mind raced so fast he felt like it couldn’t remember how to breath and choked the air out of his lungs. Sebastian pushed into the attic room, desperate to feel his wand between his fingers, find the safety in his own magic.

The witch lifted her head woken from her slumber by his heavy footsteps. She greeted him with a sleepy smile.

No soft smiles could shake the panic from Sebastian’s bones. His jaw was clenched, shoulders stiff and his knuckles white where the ligaments in his hand strained against the door handle.

How can he tell her he’s the reason Harlow was after her ancient power. That he, however unwillingly, had given the man who’d designed his sisters pain all the tools he needed to spread it like a unstoppable poison.

This was his fault. He wondered if the world had always been right and Sebastian Sallow truly was cursed.  

She looked wounded at the frown that twisted his face and she drew the sheets tighter around herself protectively. Sebastian knows what this must look like. Like he must regret their night together. That last night was just one moment of madness.

She’ll think last night was a mistake eventually so why not cut to the chase. Save himself the pain of thinking he could be anything but cursed.

[canisalbus]

My ocs have their world situated in modern times but i have a renaissance au for them cause i love history and speculating about them in a different setting. One of them became a monk at some point and even travels to Rome several times, and ever since i discovered your art i couldn't help but wonder how would Machete react to him since they're vastly different. For example my oc is relaxed to a fault and just goes for his bussiness and his type of faith is very strong but not in a fanatical or obsessed type of way but more like that of mystics (like saint John of the Cross for example), so i can only imagine an scenario where there is some sort of reunion or theological debate at the Vatican and Machete being very weirded out by him, also i think his dog form would be a spanish mastiff so just imagine poor Machete next to this scary but chill giant 😂.

.

[star-quill]

would love ur nsfw peter headcanons!! x

omg omg okok

he loveloveloves when u ride his thigh. like he adores just watching u tremble above him, hearing u whimper while u bury ur face in his neck. he's encouraging u the whole way, praising u and having his hand on ur back to rock u back and forth. when u do come, he praises u even more ("good girl" "doing so good baby" "so pretty for me sweetheart").

is rough but likes to go slow and watch u squirm. fills u up to the hilt and slowly drags himself out of u, smirking when u desperately try and grab at him to push himself back in. he will go slow at first until u whimper out "more please i can take it please" and then he will just pound into u. ur gonna have a few bruises on the back of ur thighs tomorrow but it's all worth it when he's making u feel this good.

oh and he's big and he's heavy. every time before he fucks u, he will push against u and let his dick lay on ur skin, showing u just how deep he's gonna get when he's all the way in. then his size kink kicks in when he's like "u think u can take all this baby?".

he purposely does anything to rile u up and get ur attention, knowing how easy it is to push u into submission. whether it's just walking around the house shirtless, or going for a workout in the back garden while ur watering the plants. next thing u know, ur hands are grabbing at his curls while he fucks u against the shed door outside.

man spreader. comes over to sit next to u on the couch, his legs spread out while ur sitting with urs tucked under u. then ur eyes fall to his crotch, his thighs and he catches u looking. "u want something u just gotta ask for it baby.". u blink a few times before turning back to watch tv. he's a menace and u know u'll end up in his lap before the program's finished anyway.

eats pussy and is fucking amazing at it. his nose, tongue and facial hair is the best combination when he's buried between ur legs. u prefer when he does it in bed or on the sofa, knowing that the few times he's done it in the kitchen, u almost keeled over from ur legs shaking so much.

he loves when u act like a brat. purposefully pissing him off at neighbourhood barbecues and then feigning innocence when he pulls u up on it. silently giggling when he takes u home and pushes u on the bed. u immediately start getting undressed before u see him standing there, arms crossed. then he speaks "good girls get fucked, brats have to do it themselves." then he watches as u touch urself for him, stopping whenever he tells u to, which only prolongs ur orgasm. but don't worry, once he does let u come, he makes sure to fuck another two out of u afterwards.

loves to touch u up. he's always got to have a hand on u, nicely in public but at home it always goes between ur legs. he loves when u lay across his lap, ur head resting on his thighs while his hand worms it's way through ur legs, his fingers feeling though ur folds. ur hands just grab at his arm, holding on while he fingers u to orgasm, and then one more orgasm until ur spent and out of breath in his lap, curling into him. his hand comes up to wrap around ur waist, pulling u up into him. it's almost always late at night when this happens, then he lifts u up and takes u to bed.

if he's fucking u missionary, he will wrap his hand around ur neck, squeezing gently so as not to hurt u but still make u feel it's there. ur hands grab at his wrist and u just choke out a whimper. his thumb rubs at ur skin as he praises u ("ur being so good baby" "such a pretty lil' thing" "u feel so good honey, takin' me so well").

can and will coax multiple orgasms out of u until ur absolutely spent and he has to rub ur back until u calm down again. ur body is just limp when he's done with u and u love it. u love when he has to take care of u afterwards, him carrying u to bed and softly massaging every part of u until u sigh out. he may be a little rough but his aftercare is top tier.

slightly possessive in public but u love it. he always has his hand on u, always calling u "his girl" or "my girl". u always slightly turn it around in bed ("am i ur girl?" "am i ur pretty lil' baby?") knowing it makes him even more turned on than before.

do not wear a sundress around this man unless u want fucked whenever u do. u took him shopping once and picked out a few to try on in the dressing room. he just sat outside, waiting for u to show him. but once u showed him the first one, he just absolutely had to have u in it, following u back into the cubicle and pushing u against the wall. he bunched up the dress around ur waist and fucked u right there, his hand over ur mouth to stop u from making any unusual noises.

mmmfmfm i have more but like this is already a lot

[rickybaby]

Daniel at the UFC302 event in Newark, New Jersey (01.06.2024)