#melanated kids

[melancholitas]

A Mishanks/Redhawk single dad fic idea my brain is craving:

Mihawk ends up adopting a snotty brat. He tried his best to avoid this, but he still somehow ended up with one tiny Trafalgar Law intruding in his daily living space.

Shanks doesn't have kids, but he often looks after the ASL brothers on the playground. Some of the brats admire him, but he loves to tease them. Especially a tiny red head, always trying to brawl with Luffy and a recently visiting edgy kid.

While the kids are wrecking havoc, the totally adulty adults are somehow forced to acknowledge each other. They start their own kind of metaphorical dick measuring contest (turning literal).

The two aren't any better, they're even worse than the kids, tbh. Who let's themselves get riled up by some little shits? Right, these two grown ass men!

But they're old softies, deep down.

So, yes, I'm craving that chaotic found family trope.

If anyone has written or plans to write something like this, please let me know!

Otherwise I'll just park my idea here, waiting until I can get to this (only the stars will know when that will be)..

[rosepetalexotics]

You are approached by a friend

I got this lovely series of photos of Nyx coming towards the camera I thought I'd share.

[zu8her]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 part.1

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵୨♡୧︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿

I will be periodically updating the list. PLEASE, PLEASE recommend your favourite BLACK AUTHORS, more importantly smaller creators (less than 1000 followers for instance) and authors that write for thick to chubby black readers and DARK SKIN black girls <3 part.1 part.2

Authors that write for Black Reader:

❥ @blkwriters — anime ❥ @tvgals — anime ❥ @hanwiore — anime ❥ @sanjisblackasswife — anime ❥ @tteokdoroki — anime ❥ @st4rbwrry — anime ❥ @iiamjam — anime ❥ @salaciousdoll — anime ❥ @tsukiboo — anime ❥ @xblackreader — anime ❥ @dejwritesarchived / @dejwrld / @dejtheauthor — archived, various follow her journey as an author writing her book ❥ @hyeque — archived, anime ❥ @sammysficfactory — anime, dc, resident evil, kpop, marvel (fluff) ❥ @rr311 — anime ❥ @forever1kay — anime, marvel, dc, 911 ❥ @38riku — anime ❥ @sat0-get0 / @sat0sugu-angst — anime

❥ @slut4sugu — anime, marvel, dairy of a wimpy kid ❥ @pwncez — anime ❥ @lollipopliccer — anime ❥ @roseloon — anime ❥ @aizawasbrazybaby — anime ❥ @backwzzds — anime ❥ @pinkmirth — anime, castlevania n ❥ @luminiamore — anime ❥ @melanated-writersblock — anime, kpop ❥ @chrollohearttags — anime ❥ @blackreaderatrisk — anime ❥ @strawberryfairi — anime ❥ @theebussyqueensblog — anime+patreon ❥ @riatheghoul — kpop, the bear, saltburn ❥ @cvpidzcvrse ❥ @curvykittyyssmutfics ❥ @callingallbaddies ❥ @buttercupblu143 ❥ @blackynsupremacy - smallville clark kent, nicholas chavez, cooper koch, nick fak

❥ @greengoblinswifey Nicholas Chavez outer banks stranger things and marvel ❥ @shawtyfromdirtydocks — cod ❥ @lxvvie — cod ❥ @dreamyvill — cod

❥ @xunolic/ @yutaholic — kpop ❥ @kairoot — kpop, anime ❥ @sincerelyzee — anime ❥ @pixieknj — kpop ❥ @nunufx (recs) — kpop

Posts on More BlPOC Writers.

❥ List By @blackterrae ❥ black fan-creators big list by @triangularz

[chaotic-minds-think-alike]

Finally finishing all these guys we’ve got charts and headcanons! (Long post)

(Height)

(Wingspan)

(Body length & basic shapes I used) (it might be odd but ignore any detail on the back, the shapes are for general body shape)

Headcanons:

Seawings: - Colors range from red and purple to yellow - Aquatic is based off areas of bioluminescence rather than singular scales (because no one wants to draw all of those) - Although they average small compared to the other tribes, gigantism is more common - Wing bioluminescence gene is always present but for some doesn't show, thus aquatic doesn't utilize the wings

Rainwings: - Can change the texture of their scales alongside color - Weakest bite due to their fangs, probably why they're vegetarian - Mimic interesting behaviors - Have forked tongues

Mudwings: - Colors range from olive green to purple-ish red - Very resilient - Able to breathe fire regardless of body temperature, the heat of the flame depends on body temp - Their horns constantly grow and sometimes have to be cut due to dangerous growing patterns - Love gnawing on things, tough foods like jerky is popular - The horn covers of fallen siblings are harvested and turned into instruments to remember them by

Leafwings: - Colors range from gold to teal (and pink to olive green during cold seasons) - Can appear to have false eyes - Bug-like just like the other Pantalan residents (because they're just some weird outlier like what is going on here) - Leafspeak doesn't actually allow them to hear voices from plants but rather increase the sensitivity of their antennae which pick up on the changes in plants - In colder seasons, regions that have deciduous trees influence leafwings in that their scales change into warm tones similar to fallen leaves for camouflage but this also negatively impacts one's leafspeak ability; this doesn't apply to evergreen leafwings however

Hivewings: - Colors range from hot pink to olive green - Can appear to have false eyes - Have elbowed antennae just like their "cousins", Hymenoptera (wasps, bees, ants) - Tend to disregard personal space/get close out of habit, being close means better temp regulation and better communication - All hivewings have stingers, wrist stingers, and a venomous bite but it largely depends on preference of which they choose and like muscles, they can be exercised to become deadly weapons - They're not capable of "emitting a horrible stench"

Icewings: - Colors range from white to pale indigo - Melanism is still very rare but more likely in icewings - Can be iridescent in any color, especially visible in lighter scaled individuals - The scales on their face is very fine and is flushed with blood which darkens the area and allows them to see in the snow by absorbing light, otherwise the glare from the sun reflecting off would be a hinderance - Their wings are thin and thus have visible veins most of the time - Idk how to describe their scales other than its kinda like basalt formations - From the side they appear large but are actually thin and flexible - They can freeze to death if they've gone without cold for a long time and then reintroduced too quickly - In hybridization, they have dominant genes, partially because the animus gene - The extra mane of horns can appear randomly on the body in singular spikes, they also make a clink sound when they collide as if they're made of ice, making a pretty scary rattle when disturbed

Nightwings: - Colors range from orange to purple - Albinism is still very rare but more likely in nightwings - Dwarfism is more common - Teardrop scales are always present, highlighted when the dragon has powers regardless of type - Pitbull ready to bite kids - They CAN hang upside down as the books suggest but not for long - By taking dust baths, they dull their scales to reflect less light and blend in better in the dark - Have white fire but cant breathe for long due to how hot it is (this is mainly to add onto the mysterious factor of em and I always liked the idea) - Due to eye sensitivity, they hate sudden bright lights and will close their eyes as they breathe fire

Silkwings: - Can have black or dark accents but never as a whole body color unless they've hybridized - Wing shapes vary widely - Can appear to have false eyes - Flamesilk is rarer than one might think - Very flexible and have strong tails used as a sort of 5th limb in climbing - Albino or melanistic dragons still keep their iridescence - Silk is emitted through a spinneret on the chin rather than the wrists - Prefer to travel in pairs (instinct)

Sandwings: - Colors range from red to olive green - Dark patters often mimic a snake's - Horse-like in complexion - Alongside their snake-like appearance, they have pit organs - Tend to move like birds - Poor eyesight but good hearing - Their horns angle upwards sort of like a bull

Skywings: - Colors range from red to yellow (and green because skywings are meant to be your typical fire breathing dragon which is most often depicted to be red but can also be green) - Tend to move like birds - Weaker than they appear - Green skywings are incapable of being or having flamescales - Their horns constantly grow and have to be filed down - A flamescale cant melt rock or metal by touch alone, only via fire is it possible - It's not that they don't want flamescales that they kill them, it's more of a mercy killing because of how lonely their life can be

[notapradagurl7]

By Your Side.

BlackFem!Witch!Reader x Terry Wizard!Richmond from Netflix film Rebel Ridge.

Taglist: @lovedlover @avoidthings @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @brattyfics @soft-persephone @planetblaque @sageispunk @megamindsecretlair @theblacklewinsky @sweettea-and-honeybutter @melaninpov @keyera-jackson @browngirldominion

Summary: You were a gifted professor for all black magic academy, teaching your students alongside Terry, where you discover a strange flower and leaves you alone with him.

A/N: don’t forget to re-blog, comment and like to support your favorite writers, and press the button for a request, So I was thinking in order to get back in the zone of writing, I combined Harry Potter but made it with only black people. Why not? Enjoy!🫡

Warning: +18, dirty talk, sex pollen, profanity, nipple play, violence, praise, spanking, use of magic, soft Terry, protective Terry, aftercare, brat reader, Terrybrat tamer! Slight corruption kink, masturbation,

—————

You stood beside Terry underneath the tree with your almond brown eyes watching the young adult melanated students of various shades standing side by side with their indestructible wands rested in their hands, pointing straight for the Greek god statues, the yellow energy crackling from their fingertips and spreading towards it, creating their own versions of art. Making the statues into themselves.

"Look at them go," Terry said, his voice smooth and playful, as he leaned closer to you. His cloak moved slightly with his movements.

"I think they’re actually going to turn that statue into a giant version of themselves. I mean, who knew they had such big egos?" he joked, rolling his green eyes at them.

You chuckled, nudging him playfully with your elbow. "Well, they certainly have the talent to back it up. Just look at how they’re channeling their energy. It’s fucking impressive!”

You couldn’t help but smile at their joy, laughter bursting from their lips, their hair styled in small afros, low fades, in locs, box braided to their elbows, starighted and lastly, dressed in black, red, yellow, green hooded cloaks dawned to their ankles, black loafers and Mary Ann shoes.

“Remember when we were students at Willowstiff? Professor Anderson almost caught us passing notes in Potion class?” Terry mentioned with a grin, his tone was deep yet gentle.

You were a professor at the Wiilowstiff Academy alongside Terry Richmond, many other professors and your students talking about whatever crossed their mind, unfortunately gossip and rumors spread like wildfire on campus.

“Thankfully, I used that Change Emotion and Time Spell, he forgot immediately,” You chuckled, and your eyes landed on him.

You nodded at the fond memory of being a student at the same academy, where you and Terry became professors, the two of you had been good friends since you were students. Ready to conquer the world and defeat evil.

“I’d always liked that about you, your quick thinking and wit...”

Your teeth sunk into your bottom lips at his words, watching the students float in mid-air while doing back flips. “And I always liked your honesty and kindness Terry..”

Standing behind the castle, located in the spacious backyard, the castle painted grey nestled in the middle of the vast forest, hidden from human eyes, danger and free to be themselves without judgment, without the ridicule of the world, the green grass underneath their shoes.

“Terry...” you began, your voice soft. “Do you ever think about how far we’ve come? From those awkward kids in class to where we are now?”

He met your gaze, the warmth in his green eyes making your heart flutter. “Yes. And I wouldn’t want to be doing this with anyone else. You’re the best partner a guy could ask for.”

His words washed over you like a gentle wave, and you felt a rush of affection for him. You smiled back at Terry.

The school was built by a married black couple with magic, wanting young black witches and wizards to harness their magic and embrace their identity. It was a sanctuary, a home where they could grow their powers and learn the rich history of their ancestors.

It was a luxury that you cherished forever, being yourself in various ways, even the forest was magic, hidden away in the depths of somewhere.

The ink black sky decorated with sparkling stars hovered the both of you, you pointed out to one student that asked for help, trying a different spell and it worked perfectly, Terry stole glances with his green eyes, smirking at the man as you walked back to his side.

The buzzing rumor in the air was Terry had a crush on you ever since you both became professors at this campus.

You were dressed in a black cloak with a dress, your black box braids pulled back in a ponytail. Your melanated skin glistened underneath the moonlight, your pretty face on cue.

The college students were young after all, often showing insouciance in some schoolwork, but loved doing the magic part of the school, you were like that but they changed over the years.

“Good job Faith! I see your technique, and Jordan! Don't show off because you like her!”

The brown-skinned young male rubbed the back of his neck and looked the other way. The wind brushed across your face and you exhaled the warm breeze.

Until one of your students discovered something growling near the stump of a bulky tree, your eyes quickly stopped her, “Amaya! Don't touch that!” you yelled out.

Amaya backed up immediately until the flower growled at her, eyes glowing red and growing larger, “well..well..time to eat!”

Amaya ran toward you and hid behind you, gripping your cloak. The young dark brown-skinned woman closed her eyes shut in fear, her locs pulled back.

“W-what is that?!” she exclaimed, you wrapped her in a protective manner.

“It’s a dangerous creature that kills witches and wizards, he spreads sex pollen, hopefully you won’t get affected..” You warned softly.

Terry’s eyes landed on you, “I'll assist by your side, Professor..”

You clapped twice and caught their attention, “Okay, students time to head in your dorms!! You too Amaya!”

The students groaned in unison and said “Yes, Professor L/N!” in a cautious tone, they walked in groups and, you rolled your eyes at them once again. Running off in separate groups and saying their goodbyes.

Being the ex-Marine he was, Terry's arms gathered around the students and made a motion with his hands for a swirling portal, the students jumped through the portal and vanished quickly.

“Thank you, Terry..”

“You’re welcome Y/N..” he said, standing by your side.

With a flick of your wrist, you summoned your own energy, feeling the warmth of your magic flow through your body. Terry did the same, bursting beams of light while Terry struck it with lighting.

The petals clutched around the yellow stem, throwing pollen at you. It exploded and the pink specks of pink pollen, fallen down near you and Terry until blew it away with a wave of his hand. Winds blew it into thin air.

“Are you alright?” He asked with concern, quickly turning to you.

You shook your head from side to side, “Unfortunately, the residue of the pink pollen doesn’t have to just touch you, it spreads like a virus.” You coughed, covering your mouth with your cloak.

“I should’ve acted quickly enough then you wouldn’t be affected, I’m sorry..” Terry replied softly, his face turned toward the flower that changed to a man.

Terry zoomed toward the flower man, his hands gripping the collar of his shirt and punched him in the stomach, lighting dancing around his fist. His hands gripped his ankles and flipped the man over, Blood trickled from its gut and sent the man sprawling into the ocean.

After the battle, your knees shaking weakly and almost fell to the grass, until Terry caught you with his hands. A heavy fever washed over you rather quickly, your breath became heavy.

The pollen made heat pool all over your body, your heart beating faster than usual, and an ache between your legs that started to hurt. You gazed at Terry and your breath hitched, clenching your legs again.

Your eyes fell to his lips, body, and face. Terry was so pretty, you whimpered softly but he kept asking you if you were okay, all you could do was shake your head. Familiar wetness pools between your thighs.

“T-Terry…I feel aroused and..” before you say another word, Terry lifted you carefully and carried your bridal style, snapping his fingers and a swirling green portal appeared before you, he stepped through it and you were in his spacious bedroom, your eyes roamed the place.

The four walls in sage green surrounding the two of you, The dim light from the candles flickered around the room, casting playful shadows on the walls. You could smell the rich aroma of incense wafting through the air, mingling with the scent of fresh herbs and a hint of something sweet like citrus.

The ex-Marine turned wizard professor carried the trauma with him but teaching the students helped subside it, seared in his brain for battle.

It was very clean from what you saw, with not much decoration but a regular room with the walls painted in sage green, rock music was his favorite genre. Deftones, Paramore & Radiohead were both of your favorites.

His head leaned in closer slightly, enough to give you space and his face softened, this wasn’t supposed to happen, he should’ve been more responsible. “This is so fucking bad, I gotta help you,” he said softly.

“The plant must've had some kind of aphrodisiac,” He spoke to you, catching your body shake from his touch.

“W-we can go back to the castle, they can help but I forgot that you don't live near the campus,” you said weakly, coughing still.

“I already notified the professors about the problem Y/N through a call, Genevieve is already up my ass about it..” Terry sighed, rolling his eyes.

Terry gently laid you on his bed, the blanket sprawled across the edge of the bed. He lifted your ankles and he looked at you with worry, “May I take off your shoes?” He asked gently.

Genevieve would usually scold Terry about anything when it came to you, she understood that he was an ex-Marine and you were friends but she was your sister. Like two peas in a pod, it seemed like no matter what happened, Terry was there to protect you.

“Gen is very protective, you know that,” you giggled.

“I get that but she’s always blaming me..” he mentioned with a soft tone.

You nodded at him, “its not your fault. Yes, you may. I'm starting to become hot in these clothes,” watching the man gently unzipped your black boots.

“Y/N, are you alright? The pollen…it can have some intense side effects.”

You could feel the heat radiating from your skin, and for a moment, you were lost in the warmth of his gaze. “I’ll be fine, Terry. Just a little… overwhelmed,” you admitted, your voice shaky as you tried to sit up.

“I’m a delicate flower, you know,” you huffed, trying to sound tough despite the heat coursing through your body. “I can handle myself.”

He raised an eyebrow and smirked. “Oh, I know you can. But right now, you look like you could use a little help. Let me take care of you for once, alright?”

You watched him as he knelt by the edge of the bed, his strong hands gently untying your shoes. The tenderness in his movements made your heart race, and you feel a flutter in your stomach.

He looked up at you, his expression serious yet playful. “Maybe I just like having an excuse to be close to you,” he teased, a smirk playing on his lips as he tossed your shoes aside to the corner of the room.

Your feet rested on the bed, You felt your cheeks warm. “You’re such a dork.”

“A dork who cares about you,” he retorted, a hint of sincerity in his tone. “And I’m not going to let you down when you need me.”

Your eyes landed on his ass, it was really nice. “Stop staring at my ass, girl.” he shot back.

You giggled softly, and your cheeks grew hot while you bit down on your lip. Was this pollen or only you alone? Maybe it was you, you liked Terry but the rules said that professors shouldn’t have a relationship.

You took off your cloak and tossed your dress aside, grabbing one of Terry’s oversized tee shirts, sliding it down, dawning to your thighs. “T-Terry.. I’ll be in the bathroom..”

You rushed into the bathroom and locked the door, you sat on the closed toilet lid. Gently pull down your panties and pull off the oversized tee shirt. Your fingers sunk between your folds and you moaned loudly. “Fuck!”

You rubbed your left titty in a circle and fingered yourself for the past fourteen minutes, thinking of Terry made it worse and pleasuring yourself wasn't working, fuck. This is embarrassing, you couldn't cum.

You stood up from the toilet and washed your hands clean, drying them with a towel. You sighed in irritation. “Y/N? Are you

You opened the door and pouted again, Terry

Terry carefully peeled away the layers of your cloak, revealing the soft fabric of your dress beneath. He paused, his eyes lingering on you for a moment longer than necessary, a hint of something electric passing between you.

“How come you didn't get affected by the pollen? This is unfair..” you grumbled, unbuttoning the front of your dress and you allowed it to fall to your sock-clad feet.

“I'm pretty good at what I do..” he bragged, shrugging.

“C-can you pass me one of your tee shirts please?” you asked him in a gentle tone.

Terry’s gaze widened for a moment as he processed your request, and a teasing smile crept onto his lips. “You really know how to make a guy feel special, don’t you?” He stood up, his tall frame casting a shadow over you as he walked to his closet.

“Just a shirt, Terry. Not a marriage proposal,” you shot back, trying to sound playful, but the heat in your cheeks betrayed your attempt at nonchalance.

He chuckled, pulling out a soft, oversized orange tee that bore the logo of a band you both liked. “This should do the trick,” he said, tossing it to you. “But I might need to charge you for it later.”

You caught the shirt, a laugh escaping your lips. “I’ll pay you with my undying gratitude,” you quipped, pulling the shirt over your head. The fabric was warm and comforting, but the heat from the pollen still simmered beneath your skin.

As he settled back on the edge of the bed, his eyes studied you with a mix of concern and something deeper. “

You didn't want either of you to lose your jobs because of one night, he was only taking care of you at the moment. You were nervous around him.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he murmured, causing your heart to skip a beat.

“Terry, focus,” you said, trying to maintain your composure. “I’m not in the mood for flattery.”

“Y/N. Let me make the antidote.” He turned to stand up and faced his bedside table.

Terry snapped his fingers, a book appeared in front of him and turned the pages, took off his cloak and revealed his body clad in a suit, his body through the clothes was memorizing.

“Sex pollen, the side effects are heat in the body, fever and weakness. arousal, I'm making the antidote and the other cure is physical contact..” Terry trailed off, his voice deepened.

His hand grabbed the steaming cup from the air, a hint of honey and rosemary, bringing it to your lips. The bitter taste seething on your tongue, you covered your mouth. It was disgusting, did he put a goblin’s shit in the cup? Rose petals atop the tea.

“Look at me, I know it's not good but it's gonna help with that fever, just swallow and then breathe..” Terry reassured softly, humming lightly.

Swallowing it immediately after you made a gagging noise, taking a breath as he said “That was fucking gross, what did you put in that?!” you exclaimed, drinking from a cup filled with water at the beside table.

He chuckled lightly, he held up his three fingers. “In three…two..one..” he counted with a stren tone.

Your fever finally faded away, but the heat pooling between your thighs made it worse, clenching them close and your clit throbbed again.

You looked up at Terry and suddenly went silent, pursuing your lips. “My fever is gone..” you said softly.

His arms are crossed, showing off a few of his tattoos, “See what happens when you listen to your professor?” he teased with a deep tone.

Your heart raced as you tried to regain your composure. “Okay, Mr. Richmond, you’ve done your job,” you teased back, attempting to inject some levity into the moment.

“You're still flushed..”

But the heat in your body was not just from the fever; betraying you with the way you responded to him, “You know I’ve always wanted to take care of you in more ways than one,” he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your heart raced at his words, and you could feel the heat radiating off him, mingling with your own. “Terry, we shouldn’t...” you started, but the words died in your throat as he took another step closer.

“Why not?” he challenged, his voice low and sultry. “We’re both adults. We’ve been dancing around this for far too long.”

Your mind raced. You knew the rules about professors, but the thought of Terry wanting you, needing you, sent a thrill through your body. The heat between your thighs throbbed painfully, begging for attention.

“What if… what if someone finds out?” you managed to say, though your body betrayed you by leaning slightly into him.

Terry’s hand reached up, brushing a stray braid behind your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “Let them. I’m tired of hiding how I feel about you.” His eyes searched yours, filled with longing and determination.

“I want you, Y/N. Right here, right now. I'm sure will still have our jobs, the campus was made by a married couple after all,”

Your heart raced at his confession, and the heat pooling in your core intensified. “But what if it ruins everything?” you breathed, your gaze darting to his lips, torn between desire and caution.

He stepped even closer, closing the distance between you until his body was mere inches from yours. “Sometimes things have to change to be better. I care about you too much to hold back any longer,” he said, his breath warm against your skin.

Before you could respond, he leaned in, capturing your lips with his in a soft yet demanding kiss. Pulling away from him, “T-Terry…uh..can you fuck me please?” you begged him, clenching on his shirt.

His hand wrapped around your neck, making sure he kept your gaze on his. “A good girl is supposed to listen and you've been a brat, the back and forth, the teasing, finger fucking yourself in my bathroom..” he shot back, smirking.

Terry carefully unbuttoned the back of your dress, falling down to your feet while it was tossed aside, he unbuttoned his shirt and zipped his pants. Clothes riddled across the brown hardwood floor.

No panties but no bra, you hated bras with a burning passion. You weren't big-chested but you loved your body. Terry pulled down his boxers, his dick hung out. Long and thick, veiny.

“I'll be good this time Terry..” you pouted with a soft tone.

He gently pushed you down on your back, he hovered over you and the tip of his dick rubbed across your clit, rubbing his dick across your folds with sweet torture. “Are you sure? You're gonna behave for me?” he teased.

“Yes…Please…fuck me! Fuck me!” you cried out, your nails left marks on his shoulders. Your pussy clenched around nothing desperately for friction and whimpering. You rubbed your clit in circles and moaned again.

Terry moved your hand out of the way, smirking at you. Resuming to rub his dick across your wet folds, “Did I say that you could fuck yourself?”

“N-no…Terry! I’ll be good, I promise!” you cried out, tears rolling down your face.

He kissed your lips, “Here’s your reward, princess..”

He flipped you on your stomach and pushed his dick between your folds from behind, you gasped softly at his dick filling you completely, the ache fading slightly after each thrust.

“Oh fuck..Terry!” you cried out, balling up the blanket. Drool trickled from your lips. The more pleasure, the less ache was there. Crossing the line with him was a bad move but you needed him.

Terry's hands gripped your hips tightly as he thrust deeper, his breath coming in warm bursts against your skin. "That's it, Y/N. Let me hear you," he urged, his voice low and deep.

You felt the heat radiating from him, mingling with your own, creating a storm of sensations that sent pleasure coursing through your veins. Each thrust made you feel fuller, more alive, as though every part of you was awakening to the moment.

“Just like that,” he continued, his pace quickening, “You’re doing so fucking well.” His words wrapped around you, igniting a fire within that made you push back against him, longing for more.

“Don’t stop, please!” you begged, your voice breathless and desperate. You could feel the tension building within you, that sweet, sweet pressure begging for release.

Terry’s grip on you tightened as he leaned over, his breath brushing against your ear. “You want to fucking come? You’ve got to ask for it,” he teased, his voice dripping with playful authority.

“Please, Terry! I need it! I need to fucking come!” you cried out, the words spilling from your lips as he continued to pound into you, each thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body.

“Good girl,” he praised, his tone sultry and deep, making your heart race even faster. "Let go for me, Y/N. I want to feel you cum on my dick."

With that, you let yourself fall into the pleasure, your body arching as waves of bliss washed over you. You cried out his name, the sound echoing in the room as you felt yourself unraveling, the tension finally snapping as you came hard around him.

“Fuck!” Terry groaned, his pace becoming erratic as he chased his own release. “That’s it, Y/N. Just like that.”

You felt him thrust deep one last time, his body shuddering against yours as he pulled out of you, tendrils of his cum landed on your stomach, the warmth filling you completely.

As you both came down from the high, Terry pulled you close, his hands tenderly stroking your back. “You okay?” he asked softly, concern lacing his tone as he looked down at you, his eyes filled with affection.

You nodded, your heart racing from both the intensity of what just happened and the warmth of his embrace. “Yeah, I’m okay… better than okay,” you replied, a smile spreading across your face.

Terry chuckled softly, brushing a strand of a braid from your face. “Good, because I’m not done yet,” he said, a playful glint in his eyes.

You raised an eyebrow, feeling the heat rise again within you. “Oh really?”

He grinned, leaning in closer. “You’ve got to be ready for round two then,” he whispered, his lips brushing against yours as he captured your mouth in a lingering kiss.

————

[yellosnacc]

I have a question about the Slomen Do they come in different colours/fur length or are they all brown-ish with short fur?

Here a quickie

Slomen have feathers! Or the closest thing to feathers.

Unless counting seasonal changes, their coat length is constant. This does mean short head-feather people can't just grow them out, the next molt will be the same. While ones with long head feathers will often shorten them for fashion.

Ethnicities native to colder regions are more likely to have longer feathers overall and their coat changes more visibly during seasons (I have yet to draw that).

Patterns and colors can be complicated. Sloms can vary a lot in one ethnicity and often have mutations making their coat irregular or patchy. The different ethnicities also very commonly procreate tho it's culturally complicated. But simply, patterns and colors mix, and while things such as 'eye ring with the inner being lightest color' are almost always there, the look of the brows/ring can get silly.

But yes they are pretty brown/yellowy/orangey. Melanism is rarer than leucism but they happen.

Look at the cool oc of @factorybought here!

Other ocs. Even the silly patterns of the kid can appear on adults, just less fuzzy and darker. It's rarer but hey, sloms can be silly. I could try to do some interesting mutations and such sometime.

[alexa-fika]

Idk which pirate crew to choose but what about a fem ghost child who lives on an island or ship. Their pretty lonely since they died alone and all they want is a family. So when a pirate crew shows up she kinda tries to keep them from leaving. Kinda angsty? Maybe the crew ends up adopting her??

Hunger and Solitude (Brook x f!child!ghost!reader x Sanji)

A/N y’all I cooked right here, I ‘ll be homest when I read this I was like UM BROOK 100% but then I was like thinking of the plot and the backround of Reader for the story and I was like I need Sanji here. This story is more on the heavy side and unlike my other ones this is not the squealing like a little kid type as it includes themes of death and starvation but just as wholesome in my opinion

Reader here is replaced by Dokucha which stands for reader in japanese

Dividers by @/saradika

Brook found himself walking around the cabin his crew had ended up in, attempting to take shelter from a snowstorm that raged on the island they were visiting.

The abandoned cabin, if one could call it that, didn’t seem abandoned at all; it seemed weird to the skeleton. Usually, he would be against abandoned places, lest they find a ghost or other undead beings, but this place seemed taken care of; everything was in order, no dust, no cobwebs, no roof caving in on itself; it seemed like a typical house, but yet not a soul could be found.

“Brook, you noticed it too, right?” Sanji says, walking up to him, the usual cigarettes resting between his lips

“Yes, this place… it’s abandoned, and there isn’t anyone here or around, yet this place is immaculate,” he replies, glancing around the room

“There has to be someone here,” The chef concludes

Dokucha looked down at the two men, studying them from the rafters up above

Brook paused at the sound of a childish giggle, slowly looking up and spotting a small girl looking back at him

“…”

“…”

“A GHOST!” He cries, pulling out his sword from the cane

“You’re a skeleton!” Sanji hollers back at him, annoyed

“Stop!”

Brook stills for a second, taking over the ghost that was, at this point, in front of them

“You’re a child…”

“I’m sorry! Please don’t hurt me!”

“Hey, Hey, it’s okay; we have no intentions of hurting you,” Sanji said, kneeling down to her level and trying to ease her down

Brook sheaths his sword once again. He looked around once again, still perplexed at this place

“You live here, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” she said, sniffling

“Where are your Parents?” he asked, despite deep down already knowing the answer

“They all died, rain never came, and food ran out.“ she cried

“I stayed, but I saw momma starve, I saw papa starve, and no one came back.”

Brook and Sanji, both still at that, memories both flooding their minds at the story of the small girl

“So you stayed here, alone, by yourself, all by yourself,” Brook muttered

“I am deeply sorry, little Madam; I know the feeling very well.”

After the words had been spoken a sudden chill filled the air, snow beginning to blast around them as white began to cover the room they stood in

Sanji looks up at the spectable and back down at the girl, quick to understand the connection between the two

“Shut up! You don’t, you don’t know what it feels like!” She screams, eyebrows furrowed, eyes filled with both fury and pain

“Yes, I do,” The skeleton spoke

“LIAR” she growled as hail began to fall around them

“I cannot relate to starving to death, but I can relate to having to watch everyone around you die while you remain.”

“You’re lying!.” She hisses

“I am not lying to you, Madam,” He says calmly

“My whole crew died in front of me.”

The raging storm around them begins to lessen around them at the comment, furious winds going down to a cold breeze brushing against them as the girl stared wide eyes at the swordsman

“T-they died?” she said, stepping closer to the skeleton

“They did.”

She walks towards him

“But you stayed? Alone?”

“I did.”

With that the wind around them stilled, the snow that pelted them before now falling melancholically from the ceiling

“It hurts…” she cries

“I know, little Madam,” he says, opening his arms, signaling her to come closer

She runs to him, sobbing in his arms

“I miss Mama; I miss Papa!”

Brook wraps his embrace around the young girl, slowly rocking her back and forth

“Don’t cry; it will be okay. “

She turned her head to look at the blond man

“Did you stay behind, too?” She asked between her sobs and hacks

“Not quite,” Sanji replies

“I… I know what it is to starve, however,” He said, putting his hand over her head

“I got washed to an uninhabitable land with…my father. Our resources eventually ran out. I had thought father had more food and went after him only to find out he had given his rations to me, and he had taken to eat his own leg to survive.”

“It hurt so much, the pangs, I couldn’t stop them, I couldn’t get up,” she weeped

“I know…im sorry, i’m sorry” he whispered

“Little Madam, this snowstorm, it’s your doing, isn’t it?” Brook replied, sitting down with Sanji and Dokucha next to him; once the girl had calmed down

“It is…I’m sorry I kept Mister Brook and Mister Sanji and their friends here, but… it’s been so long since I saw someone, and I got excited, but you were about to leave, and I … I didn’t want to be alone again.”

“Don’t apologize. Your intentions were not to hurt us, and I’m grateful because we got to meet you,” Sanji replies to the little girl

“How long have you been living here by yourself?” Brook asked curious

She shrugs

“A long time”

Sanji and Brook glanced at each other; at that moment, the two men had silently agreed to something; they were not leaving this place without the girl

“Dokucha, why don’t you come with us?” asked Sanji

“Come with you?”

Sanji nods. “Yes, you know a ship? Where we all live. A ship with a nice kitchen, and plenty of others that will always look out for you”

“You want me?”

“Of course!” Brook says, reaching out his hand toward her

“Come on, you're not staying.”

“You will love our Captain, you know? He won’t leave without you either.”

“Are you sure?”

The two men nodded with a smile on their face

“Of course, of course! Now, come on! Yohohoho,” Brook said, standing up, grabbing the girl, throwing her in the air, and laughing further when the girl let out an airy string of elated giggles at the action

“We won’t let you be alone anymore.”

“And I will never let you be hungry ever again, you hear?”

“Thank you, Misters, Thank you!” she cried, hugging the skeleton’s neck, more tears cascading down her eyes at the turn of events

“I have never been happier than I am now,” she confesses

“Yohohoho, I know that feeling as well, little Madam!”

“Don’t cry, and don’t worry, if you ever feel alone, if you ever feel lonely, you can always come and talk to us, alright?” He says to her

“The crew and us will always make some time for you, so you won’t be alone again.”

Who the hell is cutting onions? Im not crying you are 😭

Taglist:

@imaginarydreams

@amethystviolin

@h0n3y-l3m0n05

[prettyshon10]

TOWL EP. 4

SPOILERS

- Poured some wine for this one; let’s go

- Whose house is this? It’s nice (was that a roomba I saw?)

- Yes, thunder! Set the atmosphere!

- I will never skip these opening credits

- The body is giviiiiing! Danaiiii!

- That man is lusting—omg, he see’s the scar!

- It’s literally takes me twice as long as the episodes’ run time ‘cause I keep pausing and rewinding, but can you blame me? I’m trying to take EVERYTHING in; I’m tryna savor

- “You’ve become a bit of a creative writer these days. That note? In the getaway boat? Poetry.”

- She’s MAD mad, y’all!

- “Children”! She said “children”! He caught that!

- Only 7 minutes in and this ep has me in a chokehold; Imma need more wine

- I knew it wasn’t gonna be that easy; sorry to y’all theories

- THEY ARE ACTING!!!! ACTING!!! The mannerisms—the cracked voices raised in anger! The fact that NOBODY on the TWD cast bagged an Emmy is so freakin CRIMINAL!!!

- Yo! Automated Voice! SHUT UP!

- She ain’t giving you that thing, sir.

- “What did they do to you?” The angst is angsting.

- “Do you still love me?” STOOOOOOP! I’m done! 😭Cut the show—

- Now the sun’s coming out from behind the storm clouds…

- Round three of “They won’t come after us if we’re “dead””, huh?

- I’m totally sure Jadis would not believe they’re dead. They’re Rick and Michonne. She knows better.

- Shout out to my subscription plan—I love not sitting through commercials!

- Sis is really whacking him over head with the “what about the kids?!” approach

- The black woman in her is leaping out and I love it; baby said “deuces, then.”

- Don’t tell me she’s waiting for him to follow her…

- And he wants to!!! The tropes are troping!

- My wine is gone and I’m not even halfway into the episode. I’m gonna throw myself out the window, I swear…

- I hear a chopper; no no no no no

- Not her sassing him 😂 I love snarky Michonne

- “The only time I feel safe is when I’m with you.”

- Even at their most divided, they’re a forced to be reckoned with. Look at them fight together!

- Not him getting blood on her face! Rick, she’s pissed enough as it is!

- Automated Voice, I’m not doing this with you, again!

- The way she grounds him back to reality in the midst of his panic. How very “sun’s getting real low” of them. ❤️

- Inject this entire scene into my veins

- Bathed in the golden glow of this light; it’s the little things

- RJ really does look just like Rick. Shout out to the casting director. Man’s genes said ��you’re gonna carry a lightly melanated clone, and that’s final!”

- This show is literally fan service done the RIGHT WAY; other shows takes notes

- Not the roomba sneaking a peak! Caught my boy off guard—he was ready to fight

- Finally, he’s asking about the mark

- “Carl. They took Carl.” Excuse me?!

- “I can’t live without you. Without you, I die.”

- Andrew Lincoln wants me deceased: confirmed. This is a personal attack, I’m sure of it

- Oh lord, not the Carl drawing…

- I just…😫😭

- Elevator make out! One thing about my faves, they’re gonna get it in anytime, any place! And walker killing is an aphrodisiac!

- In the car, too! 😂

- Things are totally gonna go left; only question is how

- Wait, it’s over?!

[childofsardior]

IT'S TIME FOR SOME MORTON HEADCANONS FROM MY PERSONAL HC/AU!

↓↓↓ Read it all below! ↓↓↓

General Info:

Full name: Morton Koopa Jr. He was called simply “Morton” before being adopted by Lord Bowser, at the age of 5. The Koopa King, who had only heard about his own father at the time, (“the Magnificent Emperor of all the Koopas”) recalled some rumors about him being conveniently affected by melanism and called Morton, just like his new son. So the King, who has always loved pretending that the kids were his own, put there the “Jr” in Morton’s ID to feign a continuity in the family, even if everyone always forgets about it. Too bad the Emperor’s actual name happens to be “Mortimer” (Bowser won’t be pleased when he’ll find out).

Gender and pronouns: He is probably a cis man. Pronouns are he/him, mostly because he’s used to them and fit him well. If he questioned himself a bit more than he does nowdays, he could even come up with the realization that “It/They” could work as secondary pronouns. But the truth is: he doesn’t really care. Feels good in his body and how other people see him? That’s enough.

Sexuality: Nobody knows for sure. Morton doesn’t think about it much - he never had a crush or some interests in other Koopas or people in general, but he’s totally chill with it. His siblings, though, are always theorizing about his tastes even if Morton literally doesn’t care at the moment. Iggy, for example, claims that Morton’s apparent lack of attraction to anyone is easily fitting under the aro/ace umbrella. Roy claims that Morton is probably just a het guy that still has to “wake up from his childhood”. Wendy thinks her brother is just a bit shy and will find out eventually. Lemmy tries to defend Morton, reminding everyone that it is none of their business to label their dark scaled brother.

Age: He’s currently 14 and a half (in “canonical” years). In Royal Koopa age, comparing their development to Humans and such, he’s like a 16-years-old. But Morton’s specific development is quite peculiar. Physically speaking, he is way bigger than the average Tarrasquin of his age - in fact, he’s slowly getting bigger than Roy himself; the castle doctors can’t understand why he is so big - yet healthy and all. Iggy theorizes about the fact that Morton is the only one that follows a perfectly balanced diet for a dragon-turtle, with vegetables and fruits along with meat, but Roy jokes that if it was only for the greens, Morton would look like a cauliflower by now. On the other hand, Morton seems to have some kind of development issue, specifically considering his unrefined speaking. Roy and Larry would occasionally call him “dumb guy” or even “stupid” when angry at him, but Morton is actually one of the wisest of the family, and both Iggy and Ludwig agree that Morton can prove everyone to be quite sharp and smart in many situations.

Species: Tarrasquin (also known as "Royal Koopas" or "Dragon-Turtles") - that happens to be a powerful and rare species related both to Koopas and Dragons. The lack of horns at a young age and the number of spikes on the shell may point to the subspecies known as Plains/Field Tarrasquin, while some other details could suggest a "mix" with the Vulcanic bloodline. In addition, all the Koopalings seem to share an innate inclination toward magic and some other unusual details never found before in Tarrasquins, such as tail feathers or natural armors protecting the limbs, along with peculiar tiny gem-like scales scattered around their bodies in different patterns.

Physical appearance: He suffers from a partial melanism that made his scales darker than usual. His head/shoulder skin is white, with some gray details - noticeably, a big star-shaped birthmark on his left eye. He shaves most of his head, leaving only some thin black hair on the top. His eyes are dark gray-blue, and he has got a “quartet-straight upper and lateral” Royal Fangs pattern at the moment. His shell is a deep gray-brown color, almost black, with spikes that are getting golden on the top as he grows up. On his body, some bigger and darker plaque-like scales cover his arm, legs and tail like natural armor; his crocodile-like tail is big and strong and can be used in battles to deflect attacks.

Personality: Morton looks and acts like he is not very smart. He tends to talk in third person, is usually very stoic with his facial expression and looking at him in the eyes may suggest that not a single thought is running in that big head. Most people that he meets will probably think about him like a rough and very simple Koopa. But in reality, Morton is just a chill dude that doesn't talk much, this partially because he can’t speak very well (the reason isn’t clear; the royal doctors ipothized during the years about some speech development issue or maybe some trauma-related consequence that could have happened when he was very young). In everyday life Morton is usually an obedient young brother and a (sort of) responsable big brother - he is very patient with Larry and Junior, and probably the only one that will happily volunteer to spend hours with the two, especially with the Prince, without going mad at the end of the day. During missions, though, his soldier side comes out and he becomes much more serious and aggressive, especially with the Crown's enemies. If he's working along with his siblings during a conquest, Morton's innate protective nature will mix with his on-duty mode creating a very dangerous opponent, especially if the enemies try to hurt Junior or Larry. Morton also got a very big heart under the shell, even if he rarely show emotions - but he does “have feelings too”, believe me. He is usually the one that gives the most useful gifts at birthdays, and the one that finds the most straightorward-yet-wise solutions when in trouble. In the end, Morton's indifference towards insults and such beats even Ludwig's deafness against other people's opinions and Iggy's total inability to acknowledge jokes about him. Morton will only listen to critiques from his superiors, as Junior or Bowser, and rarely from his other siblings, and only when he is convinced he actually did make some mistakes. Hobbies and passions: For a long time Morton’s siblings claimed he actually had no real passions nor hobbies - he would just come over and help the others whatever they were doing, if asked. But they were wrong. Sure, Morton does enjoy helping or playing with his sibs, and will probably never say “no” if one of them ask him for help or company, but he actually has some hobbies on his own. Since childhood, for example, Morton has been fascinated by rocks - cool rocks, shiny rocks, perfectly-shaped stones and so on - and he actually started a collection for fun when he was little. Growing older, Morton started to actually *learn* about the rocks he was collecting, finding an interest in geology and later in ancient architecture, too. He his fascinated by ancient buildings, especially from distant cultures, and this curiosity actually inspired him to learn some theory about building and construction on one hand - and his family knows about it, since Morton was chosen as a Royal guest to co-lead some of the Super Kart Games’ courses projects - and to learn ancient languages on the other hand - but almost nobody seems to know this. In recent years he also found out he likes to cook… or at least, he likes to try it. He’s still a bit insecure and his fear of burning himself with the grill or the oven will usually lead to a overcooked meal, but he is really trying his best to impress Junior most of all. Morton also likes ducks, a lot. He started buying duck-related accessories for his outfits, rubber ducks of all sizes and also some duck plushies since the day he saw real ducks for the first time during a mission - a duck mom with her ducklings swimming peacefully in a crystalline lake near the Rock-Candy Mines. He now wishes to have a pet duck someday.

Relationships:

With his siblings: Morton is protective by nature, and him being giant mixes well with it. Even since he was quite young, he has always tried to help taking care and watching over the others - even to the point of snitching on them if needed when they were doing dangerous stuff. He can now literally work as a walking wall and deflect powerful attacks with his own body, but also making company and - mostly silently - support to his sibs in a “I-am-here-if-you-need-but-won’t-talk-if-you-don’t-ask-me-first” kind of way.

Now, for each relationship with the siblings:

Ludwig: Ludwig likes to boss him around, knowing Morton will likely follow his orders. Morton does it, but only because he’s firmly convinced that Ludwig is a good leader for the bunch. The two don’t spend much time together otherwise, but Morton is the only one that volunteers to listen to Ludwig WIPs or rough pieces from time to time, even if Ludwig will spend the whole day trying and editing and re-trying the same piece.

Lemmy: Lemmy and Morton have a chill relationship. Lemmy knows that if he wants to hug someone for no reason, Morton will always be happy to be the target. When fighting together against some enemies, Lemmy tends to jump over Morton’s big shell when fighting melee, creating a funny duo of the biggest and the smallest of the family. Morton allows Lemmy to ride his shoulders too from time to time, when the latter is tired from his trainings and all.

Roy: Roy is sort of trying to maintain a sort of rivalry between the two… without much success. Roy knows he can play rough with Morton without hurting him, and they do often train together - but Morton is also the one defending the others from Roy’s occasional bullying or critiques, details that bothers the pink one a bit.

Iggy: Morton and Iggy spend quite a lot of time together, especially during hikings in the Dark Lands looking for plants, animals and minerals, or when Iggy needs a silent company while working on a project. Iggy is also the one taking notes on Morton’s progress with speech and grammar, usually offering his time to “teach big ol’ Morton some new conjunctions!”, and also noting all the smart ideas the dark-scaled brother comes up with, ready to use them to defend him in front of the others.

Wendy: The two don’t interact very much, but Wendy, like Ludwig, bosses him around from time to time, mostly for muscle work - especially if she wasn’t able to convince Roy. Morton is the one that usually carries all her luggages when traveling, the one that helps her while redecorating her bedroom with new furniture and that offers to carry her shopping bags - but he will do it without needing much effort. She will sometimes bring Morton with her during her beauty-days-out in return for all his favors.

Larry: Larry is one of the two brothers Morton feels like his own responsibility. He will watch over him during missions and will try to keep him safe - even if Larry is now capable of doing this himself. Larry often complains about Morton's “baby-sitting” thing claiming that there is only 1 year of difference between the two, but Morton won't listen. Larry is hyperactive, clumsy and most of all, younger than Morton? Then Morton will continue watching over him like a good big brother. They also often spend time together playing games, along with Junior and sometimes Iggy, too.

Bowser Junior: Morton and Junior are best pals. Junior considers the dark-scaled brother his “buddy” and will choose him over the others for everything they have to do together, from playing to go on missions to go on trips and so on. Morton will do his best to protect the little Prince during quests and to keep him happy in general - he even started to cook thinking about Junior's always-demanding belly. Morton is also the only one that can resist the Heir's brattiness at its full power, with an infinite patience that even Ludwig envies.

* * *

With King Bowser: Morton is the only one that calls Bowser “KING DAD” or “ROYAL DAD” in the family. He mostly treats Bowser as his superior rather than as a father, with a soldier-like attitude when reporting to him, but he actually acknowledges him as his adoptive parent. Bowser is aware of Morton’s loyalty and strength, and will likely send him in difficult missions knowing he won’t get hurt, even if he’s one of the youngest.

With his mother (OC): They had a good relationship. Morton was the most obedient and less chaotic kid of the whole bunch, and their mother was actually grateful for that. He always wanted to help and was the one that snitched on his siblings when they did things they should not, always angering them for this. With the Mario Bros., Princess Peach and Mushroom Kingdom: Morton can be soft as bread with his friends but dangerous as heck with his enemies. Since the Mario Bros. are enemies to the Dark Lands Crown, Morton will fight them with all his resources when on his way. During truces, though, Morton will mostly be neutral around them - for example, during the Super Kart official competitions in the Mushroom Kingdom. Morton is instead quite nice and kind - in his own way - with the Princess, never treating her badly and actively asking her to bake stuff together when she happens to be a “guest” at the castle. Least but not last, Morton will lead attacks to the Kingdom’s borders when ordered, but he normally doesn’t really care about it.

Peculiarities & co.

Left handed: Just like his youngest brother, Morton is naturally left handed. He trained himself to use his right hand as swell while fighting with melee weapons, to be as versatile as possible. 

Speech: Morton seems to have a hard time talking. He often talks without conjunctions or with evident grammar errors, and refers to himself in third person. He is also very loud when he talks, usually scaring smaller creatures (Lemmy included) when he starts to speak out of the blue. His writing is very concise but usually more refined than his speech (even if he still uses the third person). Roy often jokes that Morton is just faking it and is only trying to build up a characteristic character for himself, while Larry thinks Morton’s a genius because he’s the one spending less energy talking like that. Oddly enough, if Morton is reading aloud an ancient poetry or translating an ancient language on the spot, he will talk perfectly and with the right intonation. Body quirks and special abilities: Partial melanism aside, Morton’s body is a mystery. He is way bigger than the average Royal Koopa of his age and gender, but also strong and resilient as a rock. He has darker plaque-like scales protecting his arms, legs and tail, which mixed with his Tarrasquin’s impenetrable shell makes Morton a sort of walking tank. He can resist most types of non-magical attacks and injuries, and he actually heals quite rapidly. His health is exceptional and the palace doctors don’t recall him having ever been ill. For some unknown reasons, his stomach seems capable of digesting almost anything, while being resistant to toxins and poison. Lethal doses for any other creature would leave Morton just sick for a while.

Random Facts:

He didn’t talk in caps-lock when he was a hatchling, probably because he was too tiny and his voice wasn’t strong enough.

Legends even say there was an ancient time in which Morton was very small and talked normally, and A LOT. Nobody knows if this is true.

He has a super refined handwriting. Ludwig envies it.

He’s actually the only one in the family, Bowser included, that follows an actual balanced diet for a Tarrasquin: he eats all the meat that the species normally need, but also a good amount of fruits and vegetables. He will eat fish and seafood in general, and any kind of sweet from time to time. He is the opposite of a picky eater.

His siblings often give him the food they don’t want. Most of it is veggies. Morton will eat it all without question.

Morton is the only one Junior will genuinely listen to: he’s concise and will just say what he has to say. Junior appreciates that.

Junior will often ask for Morton to play together with LEGO-Laz (or whatever LEGO-like brand they have in SM world lel) since Morton’s skill in creating whole scenes with it is unbeaten in the whole castle. He will sometimes spend an entire night fitting the pieces together. And if they need to dismantle some pieces, Morton will do with a single punch.

They say he can break a rock with a punch. They do not know he can also break rocks with headbutts.

In reality, the Super Kart organizators asked him for help during construction because of this - he could destroy small but hard rock with great precision and low effort. But then they actually discovered Morton’s passion about the whole building thing, and let him co-lead the constructions along with the demolitions.

To Bowser’s relief, Morton actually shares the name with a great-grandfather from the King’s bloodline. The “Jr” thing will still make sense… kind of.

When he’ll grow older, he’ll let grow a short sort-of-a-mullet of black hair. Nobody in the family will like that.

Once Morton is asleep, you *can't* really wake him up on purpose. You can try, of course, but legends says he won't wake up neither under a Bob-Omb shower - not until he is rested enough.

When he was in the egg, there was a white star-shaped mark on his egg as well. Same thing for Larry.

Both his egg and Larry's were from the same clutch, but for unknown reasons Morton hatched over 1 year before Larry. Dragon eggs behave strangely from time to time...

[fendiiula]

⸻ punishment , e. jeager x black reader

summary; Eren hates when you get all bratty he hates it even most when you call him out his name You got sappy with him so he has to put you in check

⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻

“Eren please” he had you bent over while he gave u back shots, he always hated when you got smart with him, it’s like you never learn.

Eren hates being called out his name, earlier you got mad at eren because he liked another girls post and called him ‘bitch’ boy you have never seen him this mad. Not even 1 minute later he grabbed your collar and took you to y’all’s room.

The only words that left his mouth was “strip” you knew if you didn’t comply your punishment would be even worse. So you did exactly as told, the only thing you left on was your underwear you bit your lip while watching him unbuckle his belt, boy was he a sore sight.

His green eyes focus on undoing his belt, his hair slightly falling out of his man bun you knew you were in for a rude awakening. “You wanna act like a fucking brat all the time, this what you fucking want y/n?”

He flipped your body over into doggy but standing up and pushed all of his 9 inches into you no prep no nothing just your wet pussy being enough lube for him. The first thrust was enough to knock the air out of your lungs.

“F-fuck rennn it’s too much” you gasp for air. He knew you were gonna complain about all of him inside you but he knew you all too well, he knows you’ll be able to take him.

“Shut up, you wanna be a brat well this is what brats like you get.” His paste sped up tremendously, you tried to slow him down by putting your hand on his torso but that only just pisses him off.

He grabbed you hands and put them behind your back and continues to pound your pretty pussy.

“Nghh s-shitt y/n” eren felt as though he was on cloud 9 the way you tighted around him everytime he thrusted he could tell you were getting close so he pulled out

“E.j what are yo— ohhh fuckkk” eren stuffed himself in your tight hole all at once. He went faster then he did before and his dick was making your belly fill so fucking full, he smacked your ass so hard it left a tint in your melanated skin. This man drives you so fucking crazy he was fucking you so good you felt like you were seeing stars.

Erens dick started twitching in you and you knew he was getting close. The room was filled with clapping skin, whimpers and moans eren picks up his paste feeling his high coming.

you felt like you were gonna explode any second. “Gah shit I’m cumming I’m c-fuckkk” eren throws his head back as all his kids are now sitting in your pussy. He kept thrusting but it got slower you were so close but before you could cum eren pulls out again.

It takes you a while but you realize that he’s done fucking you, this was your true punishment he was gonna leave You unsatisfied.“eren please I’m sorry j-just please make me cum please I’ll do anything.” You flipped onto your back, Oh how he love to here you beg he looked down at you with a smirk on his face.

You look so gorgeous, sweat dripping down your forehead, runny mascara gasping for air, your cute tummy going up n down while your trying to catch your breath, hard nipples ready for him to suck, and his cum dripping out of your pussy such a beautiful sight.

How could he say no to you, he leaned down for what you thought was a kiss but in reality he told you “then it wouldn’t be a punishment now would it Ma.” He sucked on your neck a little before laying on the bed about to smoke.

“touch yourself and maybe I’ll consider it my love” he smirked while lighting.

[melancholitas]

My coworker showed me the cluster fuck of a gem that is Nanowar of Steel's "Norwegian Reggaeton" and I might have fallen off the hinges completely ever since.

Despite the MV not being my cup of tea, I'm laugh-crying even harder because song wise that's exactly how I picture a party of the Strawhat-Heart-Kid alliance, in all it's suggestive and chaotic glory- - - At this point I don't know if I should be concerned about my brain or need someone to edit this into an animation.

This grease fire of a song awoke so many thoughts about some of my favorite ships, as well... (one of the dancers has a hat like Penguin, the makeup and wigs and sunglasses don't make it better in the slightest.)

Some lyrics and my hc's regarding under the cut. Proceed to read at own risk lmao:

Kid to/or (drunk) Law

Yeah, you drilled my heart and my blood is spilling, babe. Like oil from a platform in the North Sea (Blue). You fished me like a whaler in violation of international treaties, babe. Now I'm in an Oslo (Flevance) state of mind, honey. And you burned my soul like the Fantoft (City) church in June 1992, babe

Killer or Penguin or Shachi (maybe Wire as well)

Hypothermia, cuba libre, midnight sun, Sommer fiesta at Ragnarok beach. You were dancing, like a polar killer whale, when your bloodthirsty eyes crossed with mine

Kid pirates ft all

Corazón vikingo de Santo Domingo, la iglesia quemada, la piña colada (Viking heart of Santo Domingo, the burnt church, the piña colada)

Guerrero cubano, bailarín pagano, tomando mojito en el sacrificio (Cuban warrior, pagan dancer, having a mojito during the sacrifice)

Esta vida loca, a mirar la foca, asando un salmón - Norwegian (North blue) Reggaeton (This crazy life, looking at the seal, roasting a salmon - North Blue Raggaeton)

Kid or Killer (with the "softly" part thrown in by a Heart)

Nórdico latino, qué luciferino, mata al enemigo, pero despacito, vamos a bailar en la Playa del Mal (Nordic Latin, so Luciferic, kill the enemy, but softly, let's go dance at the Evil Beach)

Kid

Mueve tu cintura, con mi armadura, Satanás me sube la temperatura, vamos a bailar en maligno ritual (Shake your belt, with my armour, Satan makes my body hot, let's go dance in the evil ritual)

Kid to Law or a desperate and drunk Shachi / Sanji

My Drakkar is ready won't you get on board, while I proudly sail in the depths your fjord. When the storm is raging, and your booty is shaking, hold my pole tight and you ain't get no aching. Your breakfast is ready, isn't it good? It comes with my morning Norwegian (North Bluean) wood. I'm swimming against the stream, I don't care I'm soon getting there where the salmons dare

(↑the dude with the pilot cap getting shooed away during this kills me every time. Like, you tried, Penguin, you tried.)

Ft. an hommage to "In your head" from the soul king himself

Why. Just WHY. This shouldn't fit so well. The deadly yet horny viking vibe for the Kids, the Hispanic party touch from the Strawhats, and the nordic innuendos (polar killer whale, Law's seal spots, the dry humor pick up lines with the burning church including a side jab that might as well be Flevance) for the Hearts???

This will haunt me to my grave and I don't know if it's a blessing or a curse. Probably both.

[caufield193]

Just being honest here but I am trying so hard to not hate Judith… not because I hate her but because of all these yt feminist who only started liking her because RJ exist. It’s hilarious how they use her to hide their racism. Idk if it’s just me, but anytime someone says anything untrue but harmful about Rj, no one bats an eyelash… there are literal hashtags of people bullying the real kid but that’s okay. His Instagram is filled with folks calling him the N word.Yet the moment someone says something true about judith, who is FICTIONAL!!! NOT A REAL HUMAN BEING.( her not being ricks, and being the product of Shane ) man they get soooo upset… and we all know why!

Rick wanted RJ… this isn’t the same for Judith, but he learned to love her.

RJ is ricks legacy, and Judith is not. Yt feminist are accustomed to seeing themselves as wanted, as desired, and when a melanated little boy was desired and planned for, and not the child of a love affair between a white Baby mama and her baby daddy… their true colors show. Historically and stereotypically, a baby mama was a black woman begging to be free… except Michonne is so loved, and chosen, and declared to be the love of ricks life. So often, a black woman has a baby with no support, a baby by a different man, yet Rick truly wanted and planned for his little namesake. Michonne was content, Rick is the one who Wanted RJ. So when you have a flipped narrative where Lori, a white woman is the baby mama to Shane, bringing a white child to Rick that by yt feminist standards, Rick should want her and not have mixed feelings like we saw him have in the beginning, considering he couldn’t even look at Judith when she was first born. (considering that a normal human would have a hard time accepting a child that will forever remind you of how shitty your wife and best friend were) usually it would be a black child in Judith’s shoes, but it’s not. Rick has two kids, and the black one was wanted, planned for in a two parent and healthy home that wasn’t toxic, unlike Judith, who comes from a background usually associated with blackness

They use exscuses like, “ he’s not badass he doesn’t do anything like Carl .” But let’s be honest. RJ is 7… we’ve never seen Carl that young.. yet we’ve seen Judith at Carls age, and yet she hasn’t done anything remotely cool like Carl. So if anyone’s got plot armor it’s her… or they’ll say, RJ had awkward lines, when his made the most sense as he always considered his father the brave man. That is the only thing he knew him as.

Listen, I love how Michonne loves Judith because she truly adopted her, not because she had to but because she wanted to…. But I am so happy that Rick, a white man who married a black woman wants his biracial son, cared about his personality, and not just whether he was alive or not, because it really is making these dude bros upset… and yt feminist

It’s the fact that you can make fun of any child on the show, but god forbid you make fun of Judith or say something that’s the true, it’s the end of the world… a hit dog gonna holler

Have you ever noticed.. it’s okay to say RJ doesn’t deserve the hat… despite him being a grimes. It’s okay to say “RJ live execution.” It’s okay to say that RJ is lame and weak, despite him being 7. But if you point out that Rick has a hard time accepting Judith in the beginning, if you point out that he dreams of Carl and Michonne to stay alive at the CRM, but dreaming of Judith never even crossed him mind… if you point out that everytime Rick asked about Judith it was only to ensure that she was alive… which is on brand considering he told Michonne, “ I had to accept that… so I could keep her alive.” Not so he could love her or bond with her… if you point out all these little nuggets that shows that Rick, a fictional man, struggled to accept a fictional child that will forever carry the DNA of Shane and Lori… suddenly every yt feminist within two mile radius becomes triggered.. I’m just sick of it. Truly I hope there is a S2, where RJ is older and more marketed… purely just to piss certain people off.

[pokemon-ash-aus]

Can you give us some facts about Shiny!Ash?

Yessir!

-Shinyness in human isn't uncommon. Most people attribute this to Albinism and Melanism. Unlike actual shiny pokemon tho, these people tend to have health issues revolving around their shinyness

- Ash has his own health issues but they mostly get adjusted with his aura. Allowing him to live a relatively okay life. He still takes some medication mind you, it doesnt fix everything, but it helps alleviate a lot of his pains

- Ash's aura also calls out in loneliness, being ostrasized as a kid due to his albinism led to his aura trying to fix his need for affection that his mother alone could not handle.

- Mostly all Shiny Pokemon also have a similar call of loneliness, they also have a drive to fix and help when hearing this call. This is why most shiny pokemon care for young outside their species.

- Due to his Shiny nature, Normal pokemon usually reject him in fear of getting attacked. Leading to a lonley little life.

- This also means that Shiny pokemon get attached very easy, finding a kindred spirit with Ash and wanting to help ease the ache that only another would feel.

- As Ash gains more Shinies, he starts to become a target for Pokemon poachers, due to this, he unintentionally learns how to hide and mask his presence better to stand out less with the use of aura.

- A Normal pokemon can and will attack Ash at least once, regardless if they are trainer owned or not, it is a very kneejerk reaction to keeo themselves safe.

[desswright29]

Calm Before The Storm

Pairing: Shuri Udaku/ Reader/ Riri Williams

Contains: Angst, Fluff, Jealousy

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: There are easter eggs all over this chapter. If you don’t read this one you’re probably gonna be hella lost for the rest of the story lol. Enjoy!

Taglist: @imjusthere2readbruv,@bubbleblowinggirl, @euph0ricx0,@bellaallebbella1, @minionslikeppl, @melanated-queen, @letitiasnyash, @tishlvr, @writtenbymarie, @doramilaj233, @lichuchin, @6-noir, @jackdrawsjunk

Shuri stood at the office door rebuttoning her shirt. Riri watched her distraught, eyes glassed over “Wow Shuri. What the fuck.” The pain was apparent in her voice. Shuri rubbed a hand down her face making her way over to her. “Don’t do that Ri. What would you have had me do?” Riri scoffed. “Well first I would’ve had you at the very least close the door, but not fucking her at all would’ve sufficed.” She says clearly pissed. “Ri, we’re not in a relationship.  She’s my wife. And I mean…“ Shuri’s eyebrows raised and she licked her bottom lip followed by a seductive bite. “You saw her.”  Riri snorted. “You gotta be fucking kidding me Shuri! If she’s so fucking amaaaaazing why am I here!” Eyes began to look in their direction. Figuring they were about to get yet another show.

“MIND YOUR BUSINESS! Get back to Work!!” Shuri yells, and everyone scatters. She focus’s her attention back to Riri “First off lower your voice. And this thing we have wasn’t what I was aiming for Ri! I love my wife. Why do you think I haven’t had sex with you again? It was never supposed to get here. My minds all fucked up. I enjoy your company. I do. But this is complicated. Me and Y/n’s relationship was just strained after….After the-the baby situation, she shut me out for awhile… and then I lost T’Challa, the war with Talokan and loosing my mother *frustrated sigh* We just never got the chance to really talk and heal, and I-I’m confused Riri. From the moment I laid eyes on you things felt different. I was impressed with you before meeting you, but after, you made one hell of an impression on me. You were a breath of fresh air, and I thought it was what I needed; something new. But I’d neglected my wife out of frustration, with things neither of us could control. And I’m realizing I made a stupid mistake. She’s been through alot with me.” Riri drops the welder and walks over to Shuri. “And I’ve fought a war with you!”

“And she was there for the battles Ri! I would’ve never placed her in the position to fight a war. She is my Queen.” Riri’s eyes grew big and mouth fell open as a tear fell. Shuri had said it without wavering. She didn’t blink, nor did she stutter. “You had to have known this was a possibility. You knew I was married.” She’d  meant what she’d said. She loved her wife. “So that’s all it takes. You just need to be fucked good and suddenly it’s all clear for you again?” Riri approached Shuri, pushing her down onto a nearby chair. Riri straddled Shuri’s thigh. “You need to hear what my moans sound like again? Want me to make you scream my name this time.” She starts to move. “Hm?” 

“Ri” Shuri Whispered, as she looked around making sure there wasn’t any eyes on them. Riri moaned Shuri’s name in response as she ground her hips harder onto Shuri. Shuri grabbed Riri’s hips stopping her. “Stop it Ri. Don’t embarrass yourself.” Riri let out a shocked gasp. “EMBARRASS MYSE-!” Shuri held up her hand to silence her. “I’m going to head home. I just need a moment to myself to think.” Shuri lifted Riri off of her lap and stood. Giving her a peck on the forehead. She walked away leaving Riri holding back tears.

“YOU DID WHAT!!” Tolu yelled, eyes as big as saucers. “I fucked her in the office with the door open, so that bitch could hear! And anybody else that was thinking about it. I feel damn good too! You should’ve saw the look on her face. Oh! And Shuri *more laughter* when she saw the door was opened the whole time, you could’ve knocked her over with a feather!” You laughed, you felt like you were floating. Liberated and unbothered. You did what needed to be done and there was not an ounce of regret in you. After leaving the lab you called Tolu and made plans for lunch, gone home to freshen up and changed into a slightly less sexy sundress. Still worthy of turning heads. You were feeling unstoppable and didn’t plan to take your foot off the people’s neck anytime soon. Leaving your kimoyo beads at home, you headed out with your girl. “You are insane!” Tolu laughed. The both of you were in the middle of a privately catered lunch in Tolu’s waterfront Villa. 

“Girl, you know I don’t play games about my Shuri. Me and Shuri may have been going through some things but the audacity of her to think she was going to swoop in and save the day in MY palace! Ndicela! (Please)” Tolu shook her head and smiling. “That’s what the fuck I’m talking about!” Suddenly her face changed a bit more somber. “So…Do you think that she was completely unfaithful to you?” Sighing you shrugged. “I try not to think about it. If she had. Can I really fault her? We’ve lost so much. And gained so much reponsibility all at once. I checked out after T’Challa and the whole pregnancy debacle. Neither of us signed up for all of this. But, I left her hanging in the middle of it all.”

“You were hurting too.”

“She lost her family.”

“You found out you couldn’t conceive a child. You’d lost hope of having children. That was something you both spoke of often when we were younger. That’s hard to come to terms with.”

“We lost OUR hope of having children. We didn’t even get to process it before T’Challa was gone. We were slowly getting back on track and even began treatments for me and started trying again before the war. But, we still weren’t the same. And then Queen mother was gone.” An involuntary tear fell from your eye as you continued. “I know what I did today was extreme but, I had to do something Tolu! This girl comes in and they have so much in common. Shuri’s spending less time at home, Riri even made her smile again. I’m sure she can have babies and do Shuri’s invention some justice, since Shuri can’t carry due to her duties as Black Panther. It’s all I could think about. Our home had this dark cloud over it you know. I felt like a useless infertile, out of practice herbalist that was a waste of space, and I couldn’t help but think Shuri felt the same.” Tolu reached across the table grabbing your hands in hers. 

“Oh y/n. That’s the stupidest shit you’ve ever said. Neither of you had experienced grief before. And to experience it so heavily and so repetitively, at that extent for the first time would be difficult for anyone! You didn’t know what to do or how to be there for eachother. And both of you handled things in some unhealthy ways. But you and Shuri have a love people would kill for. Don’t let any situation, or any person take it away from you.” You sniff, wipe away a tear, and smile “I’ll be damned.” Tolu returned your smile. “That’s my girl!! Don’t let up off that hoe!” You both laugh over the somber mood. “Let’s finish eating and go SHOPPING!!”

Today was a great day. You and Tolu stayed out shopping and enjoying the city all day, until sunset. Now, you walked through the halls of the palace a smile set on your face, you feeling more optimistic than you’d felt in a long time. Now with an extra sway in your hips you were ready to get to the comfort of your home, and most importantly to your wife. “Y/n!” You hear a voice shout behind you. Stopped in your tracks your smile drops as you slowly bite the insides of your cheeks. When you turn around you’re met with none other than Riri walking out of her room towards you. Her face filled with determination. “Your highness will do just fine. Ms. Williams. We are not friends. So, how can I be of service?”

“Well I never intended to be your friend. So, since you cuttin’ to the chase I guess I will too. I know what you were trying to pull in the lab today.” A slow smile spread across your face followed by an amused chuckle cocking your head to the side, and raising a brow. “Humor me dear.” Riri steps closer to you with a roll of her eyes. “I know you know that Shuri is falling for me. And I’ve fallen for her too. So you poping up and making your indecent little scene won’t stop what me and Shuri have. Obviously you’re intimidated or you wouldn’t have gone through the trouble of embarrassing yourself.” You let out a pretty little giggle.

 “Oh! My little show really did a number on you huh little one. Me fucking MY WIFE, wherever I want and however loud I choose, could hardly qualify as embarrassing. Now your position however *fake empathetic smile* it’s downright sad.” Stepping forward and leaning in closer to be sure she heard every word, you continued. “Listening to someone you’ve developed forbidden feelings for get rode like a horse and you can’t say a thing. Ugh! Miserable is what that sounds! It was ssss what do the French call it….magnifique. *biting your lip at the thought* But, you know that. You heard it. *another giggle* You must not be doing a very good job with whatever it is you’re trying to do for her. But that’s ok. Mama’s back on the job. Your services are no longer needed whore. And I suggest you steer clear of any unwork-related access to my wife, or I swear to my ancestors I will throw you to the wolves and they will never find your remains.” 

You were in her face now. Eyes never leaving hers making it clear that there was nothing but promise in the words you’d just spoken. Riri reciprocated the energy. “I fought with her, and I’ll fight for her.” Your eyes darkened, a scowl twisting your face. “Obviously you’re a bold little bitch. So let me swoop down to your level Ms. America, so there’s no room for misinterpretation. All of this you see. Everything the light touches in this muthafucka is MY SHIT. That genius, Royal, juicy pussy that’s sitting in our luxurious home right now is MINE. You’re only hear because I haven’t made any noise about it. And For some unknown reason I’ve been cordial with you. But that shit is over. Since you’re so dead set in challenging a Queen for her wife’s hand I’ll humor you.” You take a few steps back as Riri’s nose flared and her breathing becam choppy with anger. “And I wish you the best of luck Ms. Williams.” Turning on your heels you strut away. Giving her your ass to kiss.

Walking into your home, The smell of cooked food and candles hit your nose. The lights were turned low and music played softly throughout the space. Closing the door you walk into your living room about to call out to your wife, until a shadow on the couch caught your eye. There she sat in the dark, manspread, leaned back, head facing the ceiling. “Shuri?” You whisper.

Shuri began to speak her voice raspy with tears. “I left the lab soon after you left sthandwa. I came home, and you weren’t here. So, I figured  you were with Tolu. I decided I wanted to do something special for you. I picked up flowers, and a few things to prepare your favorite meal. I was so excited. It felt good. Like we used to feel before everything spiraled. You remember us?  Anyway, when I got home I tried to call you to see what time you’d be back. *a wet exhale* and I heard your kimoyo beads chime upstairs. I went up to our room and saw them on the nightstand. And I panicked. I thought you left me. It scared the shit out of me y/n.” Shuri finally lifted her head and stood to her feet walking toward you. You’re wife was so handsomely beautiful candle light glowing against her face perfectly, even with the remnants of tears on her face. With everything you’d been through she still gave you butterflies. “I don’t want to loose you. I can’t do life without you, and I’m sorry if my actions have suggested that I could. I’ve been fucking stupid lately. I-I didn-“

You cut her off with a passionate kiss. Wrapping your arms around her neck, as her hands snaked around your waist. Holding onto eachother as though you were long lost lovers. Kissing as though you’d been worlds apart. You pulled away from her lips, blunt nails stroking the nape of her neck. “I’ve missed you Sithandwa sam esimnandi (my sweet love)” you say to her. “Nam bendikukhumbula (I’ve missed you too)” Shuri reconnected your lips as your hands made there way up into her curls. Backing you into the nearest wall, she kisses down your neck. You let out a moan. This felt so good. Your heart soared with happiness. Finally, your wife was back. “That was some sexy shit you pulled today” You could feel the smirk on her lips as she continued kissing your neck. You laughed loudly, blushing from the memory. “Don’t be shy now sthandwa. You were throwing that shit earlier.” 

“Oh my Bast! Stop Shuriii!!” She laughed. “Alright, But Mamela kum (listen to me).” Pulling away from your neck she looks you in your eyes. Her arms held your waist tighter.“We’re back. It’s you and me against the world. You’re my Queen. If anything happens we come to eachother for comfort. Don’t shut me out, and I won’t shut you out. Do you hear me?”

“Yes, your highness.” Smiling she pecks your lips once again. “Good, now let me cater to you umfazi (wife). We can’t eat. Watch movies, I’ll bathe you, and maybe I can get an encore.” Her brow raises and you hit her arm. “You’re so nasty.” You laugh. “Me?” She says placing her hand on her chest at the audacity. “I’ll tell you what? Make the night great and I’ll make you give me a standing ovation later.” You lean up and lick a stripe against her lips. “Fuck that food. Come here.” She throws you over her shoulder. “ Stop Shuri! No!” You laugh, grateful to have your wife back. 

Riri sat in the darkness of the room, in the center of her bed. She’d hacked into Shuri’s Kimoyo beads allowing them to connect to hers a while back, and now she sat listening. Imagining Shuri taking care of her the way she took care of you. Tears rolled down her cheeks and her jaw clenched in anger. It should be her. You didn’t get her the way she did. Ok, so you looked good and were a good fuck. But what else? Shuri is confused. She doesn’t know what she wants or needs.

“I’m gonna show her.”

So Who’s Gonna go Half Crazy?

[welp-back-on-my-bs]

ike prince zoo to husband AU

- you have three pets at home Yeves(yellow cat), Rio, ans Silvio

- you found Rio first, saving him from the streets, he likes to lay in your lap and cuddle you alot

- then you went to a pet store and bonded with Yeves then a bit later Silvio

- Yeves is often in accidents, falling off of everything, tripping iver things, etc. It's amazing he is still alive

- Silvio and Rio often bark at eachogher and play fight. You do get worried about Rio, bit soon after he trots ived to you and cuddles you. Silvio is a bit of a gaurd dog and protects you, and steals treats when he can get away with it. He also barks and growls at any of your guests and won't let woman (outside of you if you are one) pet him

- at the zoo you take care of alot of differnt animals

- there is the Albino Tiger known as Chalavier, you call him Chev, he dosent really let people hang around him. You're one of the only ones he does, witch is cool, you walk with him, and feed him. He dosent ever seem interested if you ever play with him, so you leave it be. Aparantly thjbgs went bad with the other tiger so they have been seperated

- Clavis is quite the graceful and playful leopard. He likes to jump on you and give you a bunch of kisses and is a bit cuddley. He clearly takes pride in whatever you gift him and is sure to eat it in view of other animals

- Nokoto is also quite the affectionate little animal. Although he is a bit more likely to show that affection in private areas. He tries his best to leave his sent on you. Loves to chase you and play tag

- Luke literally is the most affectionate and vuddley bear here. You tought the other animals were cuddley. When it comes to hibernation, he tries to take you to his cave to hibernate with him. It is dangerous for others to try to free you, but you can make a trade for your freedom

- Leon the Lion. Makes sence for a lion. He is quite the elegant and sweet one, with a beautiful dark Maine. He has never really shown who his favorite keeper is, but sometimes gentley bites your sleeve so you can stay longer

- Jin is a beautiful and elegant Eagle. He often flies over the zoo as the animals aren't going to attack him, and he won't attack them either. He has good manners, but mainly lands on the female employes

- Licht is a quiet and unassuming wolf. He often stays away from his keepers. He is a rescue from another zoo afterall along side of Nokoto. He gets along well with all of the animals surprisingly. He dosent allways eat, but you have been the first one to get him to. You do worry about him and just kinda hangout in hos enclosure sometimes just to let him get used to you

- Sarel is this beautiful big Eatern king snake, he was the first zoo animal witch took a likeing to you outside of Leon maybe. He likes to hang out on your shoulders and let you talk to kids and others about him and his species.

- Gilbert is the other lion this time with Melanism. He is black and quite beautiful really. He is quite playful with you, but is a bit nippy. He is often isolated and not allowed to sotalize with the other animals within the zoo due to a big fight with Chev causing him to lose an eye.

- Keith is another rescue from another zoo. He isn't really allowed to sofalize with the other animals due to being prey. He is another enclosure you do hang out in. Only Licht is allowed to play with him because Licht dosent eat animals he knows, any dead ones given to him. Keith is quite the sweet deer, most of the time. There're times where he does get aggressive and a bit bucky. You don't blame h8m tough and give him space and respect. He does his best to keep you safe while in his enclosure.

- one day you wake up to "hey! I'm hungry- are ya gonna feed us or what?-"

"Heyyy be nice to our human-"

"Whatever- they need to feed me since I'm the only one here who can actually take care of us outside of them getting the food!"

"Please shut up you two. They should get their beauty rest."

- what in the hell is going on????

[prncssie]

LEMON TART!

caution! mdni! 11k wrdz, bie is a little bit obsessed with you, he is also a bit ooc :3, black reader <3, fem reader, someone tries to steal your car, pet names, sexual themes, fingering, oral ( f receiving ), overstimulation but barely, you get spanked like once, use of the word cunt, cunny, pussy, i mention you having something pink like eleven billion times bc i luv pink, yes i do add links for outfits but you can totes ignore them, think that’s all lmk if i missed smthing pls do not spam like my blog if you enjoyed it, feel free to tell me in the reblogs

The day he first laid eyes on you, he knew he wanted you.

You’re on your way home from your pilates class, blissfully unaware of the interested eyes on you. Dressed in a baby pink athletic set and glistening with the sheen of sweat, you take a swig of water from the matching pink bottle. The keys to your gray Jaguar convertible dangle at your fingertips.

Truthfully, Hobie doesn’t visit that area much. He’s only there to cure his boredom, in search of a quick fix. When there isn’t a lot of crime to stop or he decides that day he simply doesn’t care enough, he sits in shopping centers. He likes to play this little game and see how many kids he could keep from running into the street without their parents’ watchful eyes.

He has just gotten comfy on his perch after “saving” his third child when he spots you walking out the glass doors of some overpriced gym. The way the sun bounces off your melanated skin almost makes you seem saintly. He swears he even hears angelic singing in the background. Hobie can’t seem to keep his eyes off you while you prance into your car. His chest tugs when you disappear from his sight, seated behind tinted windows. He almost chases after you when you drive off, disappearing into the crowd of other civilians living their mundane lives.

Hobie finds himself having to restrain himself, gripping the ledge of the building. He is already hated in the public eye. No one appreciates his borderline heroic acts, although he wouldn’t call it that himself. They don’t even appreciate the riots he starts in the name of a better world. He couldn’t count the amount of times he’s saved the public from disastrous events but they didn’t care and he didn’t mind. Hobie actually prefers to deviate from what was accepted but he fells this would be too far. To follow an innocent woman on her way home? He would never cross that line, in costume or not.

Instead, he opts for visiting this location every Wednesday at 10:27 AM. Just ten minutes before your class would be released and you’d walk out wearing some cute color that made you look tempting. Each time, you’d be glowing with the aftereffects of a workout and each time he’d have to restrain himself from tailing you. It was his routine. He’d always be in his spot and you’d always be in yours, lives never intersecting.

Until.

Wednesday at 10:24 AM, Hobie sits in his spot. Sometimes he’d look off in the distance and daydream about your future together, sometimes he’d stare at the glass windows and hope to catch a glimpse of you on your way out. It’s just as sunshiney as any other day, the birds accompanying his thoughts of euphoria to spend forever with you.

He kicks his feet over the side of the ledge and swings them aimlessly. Time couldn’t pass any slower, could it? Keeping you from each other, from maybe possibly crossing paths just this once. The thought made him smile. As if you’d ever cross paths. Too many risks with that one.

His eyes land on a man wandering in the parking lot. There is nothing particularly interesting about him but Hobie still feels that itch in his palms, the tickle on the back of his neck. He tilts his head to the side and observes the man slowly making his way through the parking lot. He seems to take a particular interest in the cars across the street. The man never actually touches the cars. He just takes a peak at the back of them, maybe the rear window. It can easily be mistaken for searching for his car in the lot but there isn’t that much traffic. Not to mention, Hobie has enough practice to know better.

He watches the man take one final peak at a familiar gray convertible. So familiar he could spout the license plate off the top of his head or point out the Hello Kitty sticker on the bumper in a room full of them.

Sure Hobie would have swung over even if it wasn’t your car but he couldn’t ignore the intense tug at his heart. He fwips his web over to a light pole and jumps off the building without a second thought. To be honest, he didn’t truly have a plan. The only sound he can hear is the rushing blood in his head and the alarm bells ringing at the back of his brain. Hobie knows he has to stop him and that’s all he has going for him.

“What’cha up to here, man.” He lands on the pavement behind the man, hands on his hips and gesturing to the scene. “Anything I can help with?”

The man’s head snaps up to meet Spider Punk's eyes. He licks his lips and his hand drops hesitantly to his back pocket. “I can’t find the keys to my car and I wanted to see if the doors were unlocked, you know? New technology and this whole push to start thing.”

“Mmm.” Hobie leans forward and peers inside the windows. While he already knew the small details you allowed him indirect access to, he didn’t need everyone else knowing Spider-punk has an infatuation. “You drive a car with a pink steering wheel cover and princess sticker on the dashboard? No judgment.”

The man only huffs. He bucks up to Hobie, nearly shoving him out the way to get to the door handle. “Listen man, I’m just trying to get in my car. What’s it to you? It’s not yours.”

“No but it’s mine.”

Both heads turn to spot you, standing a safe distance away. Your eyebrows are knit together and you're gripping your similarly pink gym bag. You’re wearing a gray set today, hair slicked back and tied down with a matching gray scarf. “What is going on here?”

You feel a burning feeling in your heart, accompanied with the bubbling anxiousness prickling your skin and causing you to sweat a bit more. “What are you doing to my car?”

“Fucking hell.” The man grumbles distastefully. He doesn’t get a chance to run away, already being blasted against the neighboring car and restrained by thick webs. His body is sure to leave a small dent on the door but everyone knows Spider Punk isn’t exactly neat with his approach.

You look accusingly between Hobie and the perpetrator. Of course the one in the getup wasn’t trying to commit grand theft auto but that doesn’t mean he couldn’t have hurt your baby. You paid a pretty penny for her and it isn’t like he has the best track record. “What are you doing?” You restate from your safe spot.

Hobie’s mouth goes dry. Absolutely dry. If he tries to say anything right now the only thing that will leave his lips will be embarrassing squeaks. He is usually so much more composed than this. It isn’t like he doesn’t have women flocking to him constantly and occasionally, he does entertain them. He has enough life experience to run a brothel and here he is, getting cotton mouthed at the pretty girl he’s been watching for the last few weeks.

A breeze blows by and he gets a whiff of vanilla.

“Well?”

“I . . . uh . . . I caught him trying to break in so I intercepted. I didn’t know it was yours. You might want to call the police.”

“Oh my gosh, of course.” You reach into the front pocket to pull out your phone. How fitting to have a bedazzled case, pink and silver in a gleaming heart. “Did he get in or take anything or break anything? I don’t know what to do. I’ve never had anyone steal my car before. Do I need to call my lawyer? Are we going to court or something?” You’re rambling and rushing, messily punching in the numbers. Your heartbeat is finally starting to dull but the warm rushing has yet to cease.

“You have a lawyer?” He supposes it makes sense. Although most people he knows don't have a lawyer on call, you would be someone who would. You must come from an affluent family with the whole driving Jaguars and having lawyers thing.

You pause, sniffing a bit. “Yeah…?” You sideways glance to nothing before meeting his eyes again.

There is a beat of silence between you both.

“Right. Anyway, no. He didn’t take anything. I’ve been patrolling the area and caught him before he did. Just, uh, finish up calling the police and report this guy.” Hobie felt kind of naked. He may have been fully dressed but he is itching to find somewhere to put his hands. Unfortunately, he doesn’t have his jacket to hide them in so he crosses his arms instead.

“No, yeah. I will. Thank you so much. Is there something I can do to repay you? I feel a bit stupid and I left my car unlocked. I could, like, give you cash or something? You could get lunch.”

Oh, you’re just as sweet up close. The slight concern and guilt in your eyes. The way they sparkle and dance across his mask. Maybe you are trying to figure out who he is or engrave this moment in your memory like he is.

“Nah, don’t worry about it. I don’t need your money. I don’t take people’s money anyway.” He’s not quite sure if it conveys through the mask but he smiles. Gentle and honest. “Jus’ stay out of trouble and lock your doors, yeah?”

You dip your head sheepishly. How humiliating it is to have a crimestopper tell you something so obvious. It makes your stomach churn with embarrassment and your cheeks flush with warmth but you acknowledge his warning. It’s hard not to when he said it in such a buttery voice. You wonder if he looks as good as he sounds.

Hobie takes this opportunity to make a smooth exit, swinging away into the distance with his heart in his ears and a ridiculous grin on his face. He feels like a kid in the candy shop all over again. Except instead of being presented with a bunch of different options, he is presented with his favorite option.

It’s unbelievable that the previous parallel life lines finally crossed. Sure, it’s due to circumstances Hobie prefer you never experienced but they crossed nevertheless. He saved the girl of his dreams from the big bad monster and saw her smile mere steps away. Got to see the radiant aura you emit and the brilliant warmth that just has to have an effect on everyone around you.

That must be the reason you were targeted today. Even the worst people can’t ignore the huge target on your back. They are drawn in by the invisible tiara on your head and the glow of your cheeks. They can feel there was a princess in their presence and feel desperate to tear that innocence apart. That just won’t do. Hobie has to protect you from their rotten doings. You are untouchable, too perfect to be tainted. He can’t risk their dirt and grime coming near you. Sure, he feels somewhat obligated to protect everyone but there is no one at greater risk than you. No one as flawless, as pure.

You are clearly too silly to take care of yourself and you should be. The world should bend at your will and do what you want. It is foolish to expect you to look over your shoulder or lift a finger for your wellbeing. Someone should do that for you and that someone should be him.

₊ ⊹.𖥔 ݁ ˖

You appear to be completely oblivious to the outside world, too busy aiding your stumbling friend out of the club and into the Uber with one hand on her back and the other holding her hand. Her heels are long gone and in the hands of your other friend. All of your attention is completely devoted to her wellbeing but you can’t ignore the nagging feeling on the back of your neck.

It’s been there the past few days and only makes you feel more paranoid. There has been a sudden spike in Spider Punk appearances near you, a sudden spike in dangerous situations you have found yourself in. It’s as if you can’t take five steps out of your apartment without Spider Punk swinging through to save civilians from dangers you weren’t previously aware of. In some situations, it’s you.

Once again, you give the world behind you a fleeting look over your shoulder. As usual, you are only greeted with traffic and the night sky, full of glistening stars. See? You’re just being ludicrous. There’s no crazed monster trailing you and there is no need to feel so paranoid.

“☆,” your friend is whining in your ear. Her head is slumped over and rolling, accompanied by her groans. “I feel like I’m going to throw up.”

“Oh, please don’t.” You let go of her hand to lift her head. Your eyes met hers, glazed from tears and bloodshot. “It would be so much better if you waited until we got you home.” You pat her cheek in hopes the feeling will distract her drunken mind from the sloshing alcohol in her stomach. It’s a weak attempt however it’s still an attempt. “If you throw up, they won’t let you in the car.”

Lottie can only cry out in irritation. “I am never going to drink alcohol ever again. It feels like Satan’s ass is in my stomach.” Her head lolls onto your shoulder. Her blonde locs are draped all over you and you indulge in the small amount of warmth provided.

“Don’t worry about it, ☆. I can get her home by myself. You live in the other direction and I’m staying over there tonight, anyway.” Rico has to look over Lottie’s shriveled form to meet your eyes. She looks apologetic about her girlfriend’s condition but you shrug it off and shake your head.

“No, it’s okay. I want to make sure you guys get home safe and Lottie is gone. I don’t mind, really.” You’re almost insistent when you tell her. As concerned as you sound, deep down you know it is truly because you don’t want to go home on your own. You can’t shake the feeling that someone has their eyes on you from a distance and the last thing you want was to walk home on a busy night, alone.

Rico pulls the black Honda’s door open and ushers Lottie inside as smoothly as she can. “You’re such a sweetheart but you really don’t have to. We live thirty minutes in the opposite direction and these prices are obnoxious at this time of night. Just go home and call me as soon as you get there.”

You purse your lips. You have no intention of spending any money tonight to get home. You already spent the last of what you could to get in the club. You are just waiting for your dad to send you your weekly allowance. You can admit, you are a bit dumb with your money and your rules but can you really be to blame? You were born with a gold spoon in your month and no conception of how money works. Between lavish parties with socialites and getting anything you’ve ever asked for, you don’t have the best idea of what the world is like. However, your allowance is for fun and your paychecks are for household expenses. Is it your fault that you make much more in your allowance and could blow through it in a week if you wanted? Not at all.

“Okay,” you provide Rico with a less than satisfying tight smile. “Text me when you get home, Ri. I’ll drop your stuff off tomorrow. And let me know how Lottie is doing. Her hangover is gonna be insane.”

Rico is barely concerned with responding back. She’s both trying to wriggle her way into the car without disturbing the drunken girl and get them both safely buckled and situated. “M’kay. I’ll call you.”

“Bye, ☆! I love you so much!” The producer of the shriek is leaning against the coolness of the opposite window, reaching out symbolically to grab you. “You’re one of my best friends in the entire world and I don’t know what I would do withou –”

“Okay, bye!” Rico glances at you apologetically for the last time. Then, the door is slammed. The last you see is her hand comfortingly patting against her girlfriend’s thigh.

You watch the car drive away and sigh as a chill settles under your skin. Of course you don’t realize how truly cold it was outside until the warmth of your night has disappeared down the street. Not to mention what shots you did consume wore off the moment Lottie went off the rails. No longer could you enjoy your buzz. Instead, you have to get her home.

It ‘s a bit comical. Being marginally afraid of getting home alone on Halloween night. To be honest, this isn’t really how you planned your night to go. You were supposed to go out tonight with your friends and return back home with a guy. You were the tightest top you had with the smallest skirt you could find on purpose but now you are regretting it, standing on the sidewalk in fifty degree weather. And still, that sick, creeping feeling is nestled on the nape of your neck.

You scrunch your face in displeasure before starting your trek home. Fortunately, your luxury apartment was only fifteen minutes away and the city was still very much active. The only reason you feel an inkling of nervousness is due to the unusual feeling.

Your arms are tightly wrapped around yourself and you brush it off. It has to be nothing. There is no way you have such a persistent stalker who follows you everywhere. Sure, that is the definition of a stalker but it can’t happen to you, can it? It can’t. You simply won’t allow it.

You mumble about your irritation and tilt your gaze to the sky. The stars were beautiful but there was just something off about tonight. Maybe not in the sky but it feels like something is going to happen. As if you’re waiting to be a piece in a climatic story.

You grunt when someone brushes against you a bit too hard and meet the eyes of someone caught just as off guard as you.

“Sorry,” you speak in passing. Immediately after you find yourself cursing at yourself for being so careless. Pay attention when you walk. It’s a rule as old as time and naturally, you have a hard time following it.

You stop to take a break, maybe get out of your head. You’re leaning against the brick wall and pull out your phone. Perhaps it would be better to walk with some music. Keep you distracted from losing your mind over nothing. Or maybe not. Walking with noise in your ears while being paranoid, post robbery? Probably not a good idea.

Your fingers are fumbling across your phone screen. At this point, you’re ready to drop an extra band just to get an Uber. Already, you’re shivering from lack of physical activity. Occasionally, you can feel the weird glances from passing men, spotting a nearly vulnerable girl on the edge of sidewalk.

You’re just about to confirm your ride when a familiar tattered suit begins a slow stride towards you. Like a stunned idiot, anxious out of her mind, you squint at him. Not that you need particular aid seeing such a detailed and colorful suit, but it is a bit difficult to tell if that was the true Spider Punk or if a superfan decided to spend their entire savings on a high quality costume.

Fortunately for you, you got your confirmation.

“Yo? Aren’t you the girl with the car? The really nice one?”

“Huh?”

His voice is velvet in your ears, almost melting away your nervousness. Is it because he’s saved you in the past or because you just found yourself especially enamored by the richness of it all?

“Like, two weeks ago. Didn’t I help you out with your car and that guy?” As if you were longtime friends, Spider Punk strolls up to you. His hands are snug comfortably in the pockets in his fashionably tattered vest and for the first time, it truly registers just how tall he is.

You have to tilt your head up to view him, almost completely and it makes you feel particularly shy. Your words get caught in your throat, although you’re aware of the increasing time ticking between his question and your delayed response.

Spider Punk doesn’t fill the silence, however. He simply stands there with his head cocked to the side. His patience doesn’t help your fragile grasp on your sanity.

“Oh, uh yeah. Probably. I decided to press charges n’ stuff.” You wet your lips and turn your head away. At this rate, you are going to explode. This is overwhelming, stressful. You should be home right now. “What are you doing walking around? I thought superheroes weren’t supposed to be in public, like that.”

“Ah,” you see him turn his face to the sky and a chuckle leaves his lips. Even if you can’t see his face, you know he’s smiling. It’s obvious in how his mask pulls. “I never said I was a superhero, sweetheart. I just like protecting the people I care about.”

Your eyes meet again but instead of feeling flustered, you’re facing him with confusion. Was there an undertone or did he happen to be in the right place at the right time? “Oh. Okay. That’s cool.”

He doesn’t allow for a second of silence, springing the next question onto you almost immediately. “What are you doing here? It’s getting a bit late and pretty girls like you should be at home out of harm's way.”

“I . . . what?”

There’s another patience silence. Clearly, he isn’t interested in your stumbling and stuttering. You’re getting the point, now.

“I’m on my way home but I’m a bit shaken up. I’ve never been in that type of confrontation before.” Admittedly, you haven’t experienced any confrontation. Rich girl living in a bubble and assuming she is untouchable. Pretty typical. It isn’t something you would admit to most people. Had it been anyone else, anyone who hasn’t seen some pretty crazy crimes, you would have just chalked it up to anxiety due to lack of sleep.

“Mmm,” Spider Punk takes a glance over his shoulder. Considering the night, no one is paying any attention to him. Like you, they assume he put a ton of hard work into that costume. “Would you like me to escort you back home? I’m just patrolling, anyway.”

“I thought you do this for people you care about.” Your smile is slow growing, both from the reassurance that he’ll be able to work as your bodyguard for the passing moments and to lighten the mood.

“I do.”

“Oh.” It wavered just as slowly as it developed.

“I can do both. Like I said, I’m just patrolling.” He shrugs. His hands are drawn from his pockets and gently guide you to begin your journey to your apartment. Although you can’t see it, you can feel the size on the small of your back. If he truly wanted, he could probably crush your skull. The thought itself isn’t all that attractive but when it leads to other suggestions on where he could put them or what he could do with them is where the real fun begins.

The walk back is voiceless. Sounds of the city fill the space where a conversation would be. You feel twitchy, hyper aware of the situation. There’s probably a serious conflict happening somewhere, and here you are hogging safety all to yourself.

“You really don’t have to do this. I can make it home myself or get a ride or something.” You twirl a passion twist around your finger, narrowing in on the loose ends slowly unraveling. That nagging feeling is gone with him by your side.

He nods and you miss his eyes lingering on the top of your head, slowly raking over your form and drinking in the details. “You probably can. I’ve been swinging through, though and you’ve been in the same spot for five minutes.” The pale green color of your top looks alluring on your skin, along with the pink flowers decorating the hem. Oh, how angelic you are. “What are you supposed to be?”

Your refusal to look and acknowledge him doesn’t go unnoticed but he doesn’t press about it. In his eyes, this is a rare opportunity to burn you and your absoluteness into his memory. He’s only been able to hear the sweetness of your voice twice now, directed to him. Stolen conversations and hidden glances weren’t truly enough.

“Nothing special. A sprite or an elf or something. I haven’t decided yet.” You’re looking at your own Halloween costume now. A bit silly to not know what you were after parading around in it but it’s cute and that’s all that matters. The night is over, any and it’s not like anyone is truly that curious. “What are you doing walking around? I know you said you’re patrolling but aren’t you concerned about being followed?”

“Eh,” the thought really rolls off his shoulders, “look around. There’s dozens of me everywhere. They’d have to go and target every single one and no one wants to do that. Too busy celebrating with their families or being miserable they don’t have one.”

The conversation kind of dies there. It gets a bit awkward, walking side by side with someone you barely met. Little do you know, Spider Punk knows you like the back of his hand. He’s practically vibrating with excitement. Of course, he planned to insert himself into your life eventually but tonight was not the way he thought it would go. However, it’s better than he imagined. Walking his favorite girl to the safety of her living space, although he already knew where you live.

He’s been there almost every night, perched on the ledge of the roof of the building across the street. He knows he said he wouldn’t but that’s where you are most vulnerable. There, he would sit, watching you walk here and there, dilly dally through your night routine. Finally, when you would get comfortable under the plush duvet and set your phone down on your nightstand is when he’d consider leaving. He’d make his departure only when you are sound asleep, drifting off into your dreamspace.

But tonight, tonight he gets to walk with you. Would it be too much to hope you invite him in? He could fake a cough for a glass of water and take a mental picture of your space from a first person view, only to go home and completely map it out on paper. How would he protect you if he didn’t know every miniscule detail about your life? He is the only thing standing between you and the evilness in this world.

The silence grows oddly comfortable. Spider Punk is too deep in thought but only he knows what about. You’re relishing in the fact that you truly haven’t felt comfort like this in a while. No longer does it feel like someone is watching you from a distance. After a while, you’re both approaching the bright lights in the lobby.

“This is my stop.” You stand with your arms clasped behind your back. It’s evident you need your keycard to get in but digging into your chest to pull it out wasn’t too appealing, right now. “I can make my way in so you can leave now. Thank you so much for walking me home.”

Hobie tilts his head. Under his mask, he’s awfully disappointed. As if he’d let you dance your way out of this. “I’ll walk you to your door. Gotta finish my job completely, ☆.”

You don’t remember telling him your name but he probably got it the last time you saw each other. Maybe superheroes just know that kind of stuff.

“You don’t have to do that!” You only tighten your grip behind your back. “I’m fine and our security is really good. I’m home now so it’s okay.” You shift under his stare and his silence. Is he always like this? Stubborn and refusing to argue back? “So you can go now…”

“Or you can open the door.” He crosses his arms and shifts his weight to his side. You are certain if he didn’t have that mask on, he would be glaring at you right now. This has to be the sassiest man you know. He’s doing quite a bit just to walk you to your door.

You grumble some complaints and turn away, angling your body away from him and the glass doors. Your focus is the doors, though. The chances of you running into the residents are significantly higher than running into Spider Punk, again. You didn’t want your poor neighbors to be scarred with the image of you digging in between your boobs for your keycard. You turn back around to catch him just barely averting his gaze. At his height, it wasn’t too hard to peek over your shoulder and the temptation was just undeniable.

Your lips are pressed into a pout while you swipe the plastic square. The excitement bubbling in your stomach from attention is impossible to ignore but you lie to yourself and insist you’re so deeply bothered, you can feel it.

Like the gentleman he is, Spider Punk takes the door from you. He holds it open, following behind closely through the doorway. “Damn, this is nice.” He lets out a low whistle. His head draws a slow circle at the high ceilings and the floor to ceiling windows. “You really live like this, princess?”

You pout harder at his question. The amazement is normal, of course, but still. Somehow it all makes you feel alien, especially with the pet name attached. “Obviously.” You make a beeline to the elevator in an attempt to avoid the curious gazes directed your way.

With his long legs and therefore long stride, he doesn’t have to put in any effort to maintain your speed. “What’s the attitude for? Didn’t know I was offending you.” It’s difficult to tell whether or not he’s taunting you. It sounds sincere but somehow you doubt it.

“There is no attitude.” You retaliate back. You’re relentlessly jamming your finger on the elevator button. “You asked if I live here, I said obviously. That’s it.” Truthfully, not even you are sure what the bite back is for. First, you didn’t appreciate how he asked about your building. Then, you just found yourself stuck here. Really, this is all his fault.

Spider Punk leans against the wall beside you. His big boots scuff the floor beneath him but otherwise, he seems unphased. “Mmm,” he hums. His head lolls to the side. Your side. You’re ignoring the intense stare he’s giving you and you regret rushing the elevator now.

The door opens with a ding. Both fortunately and unfortunately, there are people already in it. While that means you don’t have to face whatever thoughts he has brewing to your response, you do have to deal with the awkwardness in front of a group of people, some of whom are too nosey for their own good.

As a result, the ride up is quiet. All the up to the fifty-second floor, neither of you speak a word. The door opens and you step out, noting that even in his brooding silence, Spider Punk lets you go first. Had it been any other man, a normal man, you would have ditched him at the front door but a “hero” wouldn’t come in and bombard you in your own space.

He follows you to your door, trailing on your heels. It’s unnerving how silent he is. He doesn’t look bothered but he merely watches you move. Watch you use your keycard to open your door, watch you turn the handle, and watch you turn your head back to his. “Okay. I’m home now.”

“Yeah. Obviously.” He retorts with a hint of a mocking tone. Clearly, he still feels a bit dishonored by your previous choice in tone. “I’m waiting for you to walk in. Like I said, gotta finish my job completely.”

“Oh. Right. You definitely said that before.” You sheepishly smile. The door to your apartment is pushed open, giving him a wide view of the pinked out living room. Not surprisingly enough, there are plenty of pastel colors, sanrio memorabilia, and flowers all over the place.

Shiny, white heated floors, stuffed animals strewn about. Plenty of comforting blankets and a flower shaped floor cushion in the corner. Looks just like you.

“I’d tell you how nice your place is but I don’t want you to bite my head off.”

Your shoulders drop, followed by an exasperated sigh. There is no way to explain he’s the reason you’re snappy and flustered. Him and his deep voice and calming nature. Him and his chivalry and big hands. “I’m sorry for how I spoke to you. Thank you for your compliment.”

Spider Punk turns his head up as if he’s miffed but the corners of his mask pull into a small smile. “It’s fine. Couldn’t stay too mad at ya, anyway. Could I come in? You know, to use your bathroom. I’ll leave right after but night patrolling is a pretty big job and I have needs, too.”

You’re hesitant, glancing over your shoulder. You really shouldn’t. Your better judgment is screaming at you for allowing this to continue this far. Despite his supposed nobility, he is a man and you live alone. Still, he walked you all the way home and saved your baby the other day.

“Um, sure.” You push your door open farther. The much taller man saunters right in as if he’s all too familiar with the place.

He stops in the entryway. Once again, his hands have found their way into his pockets. “Which way am I going, sweetheart?” He’s got a pretty rough guideline of the direction but he couldn’t tell you that. You’d never speak to him again.

“It’s just down the hall, that way. It’ll be on your left.” You’re still undoing the straps of your heels, one hand on the wall to maintain your balance. The last time you checked, the guest bathroom is in perfect order. How fortunate all your friends gather in your room and use your bathroom, instead. “Let me know if you need anything. I’ll be right back.”

You linger around just to watch him enter the bathroom before escaping to your room. In an ideal world, you’d be home alone and jump right into the shower. However, with a stranger within your property, you would much rather stick around to ensure he promptly makes his exit.

Once your feet touch the plush rug by your vanity, you begin un-readying yourself. Your butt-length twists are going up haphazardly into a bun. You’re pulling the hoops out your ears and the strip lashes off your eyes. The makeup remained, however. You were never the biggest fan of makeup wipes. They’re wasteful and never really get into your skin the way you want. Your skincare routine is much more thorough than that.

You pad your way over to your closet and pull out one of your pullover robes. With a quick glance casted at the door to safeguard your privacy, you begin peeling your clothes off you. Your top is tossed in the direction of your hamper before you’re moving onto the flowy brown skirt.

That’s when you see him.

You’re bent over, skirt halfway down your legs. Shirtless, braless, tits all out on display. You feel like a deer caught in headlights, eyes wide and frozen. You know he’s looking at you. His mask is pointed directly at you and even though you can’t see his expression, he has to be just as frozen as you are.

You snap back up, skirt coming up with you. You’re refusing to turn around, hands cupping your breasts while you reach for the robe. Your cheeks are burning and you have no idea if he’s still there or not. You didn’t hear any heavy footsteps, any boots smacking against the floor.

“You didn’t have to stop the show, ☆. I wasn’t expecting a strip tease but can’t say I don’t like it.”

You’re bumbling to pull the robe over your head. The fabric rolls and gets caught on itself but you’re persistent, tugging and pulling in all kinds of directions. “What are you doing here? This is the complete opposite direction of the bathroom.” You don’t turn around, not now, not ever. Instead, you tug on your hair next until the bun is loose and misshapen enough to mold and fit under the hood of the robe.

“You told me to tell you if I needed anything. I’m done and I’m leaving. Just happened to hear you make noise and rustling in here.”

You can hear him closing the space between you. Can feel the weight of his boots though the floor and his presence when he is eventually standing behind you. “Don’t gotta be shy about it. I’ve seen plenty in my life.” He knows it doesn’t sound the best or come out as comforting but his thoughts are a bit fogged over.

Sure, sometimes he gets glimpses of your body through your window but it’s nothing like this. You are always sure to change out of view or close your curtains, opening them when you’re finished. Sometimes he’d see the bottom of your ass peeking through your shorts. Sometimes he was lucky enough to see you parading around in tiny tops. Definitely didn’t compare to seeing your body up close.

“Gee, thanks. Is that supposed to make me feel better?” You scowling and muttering under your breath. You turn, finally, ignoring the burn of your cheeks and the rush of blood throughout your body. You’re ready to give him some sort of spiel about respecting your space and guiding him out the door but your voice is caught in your throat.

“Getting tired of the attitude, darlin’. You’re usually so sweet.” He’s so statuesque, towering over you. With his close proximity, to actually look you in the eyes, his chin is grazing his chest.

You encase your bottom lip between your teeth. If you were an idiot, which you might be for pushing this, you would have noticed the change in the air. Tensions, probably, growing much thicker than they should. “Usually?”

He doesn’t further explain. Instead, his eyes drift over to your discarded top in the corner. “What is with you tonight, ☆? You’re always so sweet. Did something happen while you were at the club? Or was it on the way back before I got you?”

“What? How did you know where I was?” Your eyes grow wide and your stomach churns. That feeling that someone was observing you from a distance, was that him? Who did you just invite in?

He ignores your question. Instead, he has a seat on the ottoman behind him with a sigh. He’s way too comfortable in your home. “Close the curtains, would you?”

You blink slowly. Nothing about this makes sense. His comfortability is unnerving and you hate the way he’s giving you requests in your own apartment you pay for. “I’m sorry? You want me to close my curtains?”

Spider Punk runs his hand down the front of his face. Your constant putting up a fight is exhausting him. He only has but so much unwavering patience, especially when he’s been anticipating this moment. “Yes, love. It would be really helpful if you could close the curtains so I can take my mask off.” He’s resorting to speaking to you like a child, slow and pitchy.

“Wait, what?” His confession to want to unmask right here, right now distracted you completely. You may not know much about his profession but you know that he is never to do. Doing right here in your apartment? That doesn’t sound quite right. “Why?”

“Oh my days!” He groans and in one swift motion, ejects his web to pull the white, blackout curtains shut. “I ask you to do one thing. One simple thing. Had you closed the curtains, I would have told you.” Spider Punk pulls his mask just as quickly as he closes the curtains. Beneath it, he reveals to you the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen.

Dark chocolate skin as glowy as ever and equally dark eyes. His face is adorned with methodically placed piercings. A spider bite, a nose ring, a couple of ear and eyebrow piercings. Despite the laws of physics, his mask completely hid the length of the bulk of his locs. They fell all around, framing his face and between his eyes. Your knees buckle when he looks at you.

“Come here and please do it without the mouth. I’m doing my best and you’re really getting in the way of that.”

You feel like your body moves on it’s own. What’s possessed you to be so pliant, you have no idea. You know this is wrong, know that there is something unbalanced about this. There’s such a pretty man looking at you though, with the expectation that you can do no wrong. Who are you to deny yourself of indulging in the moment, especially when your earlier plans to get dicked down were foiled when you prioritized the health of your inebriated friend. You’ll deal with the consequences later.

You’re suddenly standing in front of him before you realize and his hands fly up to your hips. Gently, he’s pushing you to the ground, only stopping when you’re kneeling in front of him. “I’m going to ask you once. What’s bothering you, pretty girl? You had a weird temperament all night and I know it’s something. You’ve never been this way before.”

You tilt your head, unintentionally pushing your cheek father into his hand. He runs his thumb over the chub of it and you can feel the rough calluses graze against your skin. “I don’t understand. You only met me twice.” Your eyelashes brush against his fingers.

“Mhm. We’ve only officially met twice. That’s not the answer to my question, though.” His hands leave your cheeks and snake around your waist, rubbing the expansion of your back, down to your hips.

You’re awfully unsatisfied with his reply and nearly push him for more until you feel the harsh squeeze on your ass. You can feel your pussy lips separating and the thin cloth of your panties is quick to stick to the thin layer of slick between your legs. The discomfort makes you squirm and though it doesn’t go unnoticed, it is ignored.

“Nothing is wrong,” you finally say. “I’m fine. Just anxious, I guess.” Your eyes are downcast to hide the lie in your eyes. You’re sure he knows the real reason and will try to drag it out of you but that’s a risk you’re willing to take.

SLAP! His hand rains down on your left cheek. He grins when you whimper and lean forward in an attempt to evade his grasp. “Don’t lie to me. You’re not talking to me like this because you're anxious. What is it?”

Your head hangs low in anticipation. You don’t know how to find the words to say but you’re very aware the time is ticking. “I . . . It’s because . . .” Your following explanation is nothing but a mumble, too embarrassed to say it confidently.

“Didn’t hear you, pretty girl. Gotta speak up.” From behind, his hand yanks down the hood and gives a correctional tug to your hair until you’re facing him again. “Tell Hobie what’s botherin’ you.”

You want to pout and whine. Your stance is uncomfortable but the pull on your scalp is delicious. You can’t decide if you’re angry with him for putting you in the position or enjoying it so much you want to play your role. “It’s ‘cause I don’t know what to do around you. You make me nervous.”

At this, he perks up. It has the opposite effect on you. His grip tightens and the pull increases. He leans forward, his lips ghost over the space between your neck. “Do I? That’s not nice though, is it? Haven’t done anything to you. Didn’t put you in danger. Walked you home, made sure you’re safe and sound. I don’t deserve that, do I?”

“No,” Your speech is shaky when he attaches his lips to your skin. Your hands are on his thighs, holding on to what little sanity you have left. It is entirely too easy to get lost in this, in him. Even when he’s doing little to nothing, you can feel him and his warmth everywhere. You press your thighs together to alleviate the gentle throb of your clit.

“Didn’t think so.”

It comes as a surprise to you when you’re suddenly bare. The cloth previously on your body is tugged off without a second thought. Your brain is spinning in an attempt to catch up. The breeze of the air entices your nipples to slowly erect. They’re budding enough to catch Hobie’s attention. He gently rolls them between his fingers, using this as an opportunity to monitor your expression. “When’s the last time someone touched you, pretty? The last time someone had you creamin’ on their shit.”

Your face is contorting in poorly hidden pleasure. You’re doing your best to maintain solid ground, occasionally pressing your legs into each other and rubbing them back and forth. He’s teasing, playing with you slowly and you hated it but you weren’t one to voice your opinion. “Mm, I- I just lost my virginity a few months ago so...”

“You poor little thing.” His voice is dripping with content. Hobie tenderly kisses your forehead. He removes his hands from your body. “Stand up, why don’t you? Let me help you out, doll.”

To no one’s surprise, there is no hesitation or lip service with this request. You’re quick to stand up, disregarding your eagerness and mostly naked body in front of his calmness and fully dressed self. You’re almost beaming when Hobie’s hands find purchase at you again. He’s tugging down both your skirt and black mesh panties. He doesn’t even have to ask you to aid him in removing them. You step out of the materials accordingly and kick them across the room.

He moves you around himself, pulling your body against his. Your hands are moved to rest against his shoulders and your leg is lifted onto the space beside him. “Stay just how I put you.” Hobie looks at you through his eyelashes. He kisses the inside of your thigh. really taking his time to draw out the soft gasps as he made his way closer to your core. Hobie nips and bites at your skin on the way there. Occasionally, he leaves teeth marks behind. It’s only proper to leave something to remember him by in case he doesn’t get this opportunity again.

He has a grip with your thigh but the other hand wanders. It brushes up your leg and your stomach. It glides behind your back and fondles with the globes of your ass, pushing and kneading. It comes back around and slips between your legs. They softly run through against your folds and collect your wetness on the pads of his fingers.

You hum, almost ready to push against him. He’s taking this entirely too slow and it’s driving you crazy. “Hobie, please.” You whine. If you didn’t know any better, you’d push his hand in yourself.

He chuckles and pats your cunny. He can hear the moisture smacking and sloshing around under his fingertips. “Patience, angel. I’m gonna take care of her, promise.” Just as he promises, he pushes a finger deep inside you. You’re moan matches, slightly drawn out and slightly wobbly. Just as you suspected, his hands are huge. His fingers are thick and long. One hand could probably cover the majority of your torso. Having them sink so deeply into you is making you delirious.

“Well shit,” he massages your hip. His eyes are trained on your pussy. He’s entranced with the act of it, with his fingers drawing out more and more juices, with your pleas and pleasurable noises above his head. “You’re soaked.” It doesn’t take long for him to work you up to two fingers, slotting it next to the other.

You’re practically dripping down herself, grip tightening on his shoulders. You’re appreciative of his continuous grip on your leg because if it were your way, you wouldn’t be able to stand still. Not when he was constantly brushing against that spot you could barely reach yourself. “Oh my god, ‘Bie. There!” Your body falls forward, barely being held up when he continues to drill into you.

“Yeah? Feels good?” He doesn’t give you a chance to reply. Rather, he’s slouching underneath your body, tongue latching onto your clit. His eyes are barely lidded at the first taste. He swears you taste like a summer day, of strawberries and whip cream. He could spend all night here, drinking you in. It’s like his ears are stuffed with cotton. He can’t hear you. He can’t even hear himself moaning against your skin.

Hobie pulls his fingers out of you, ignoring your dissatisfied whines. In his right mind, he would have shushed you with gentle kisses and reassurance but he couldn’t form the words to. One taste got him pussydrunk and now he couldn’t stop.

Hobie scoots back onto your bed, clawing at your body to maintain the proximity. His eyes are wild and he doesn’t say a single thing. It’s obvious what he wants, though, when he lays back and yanks you on top of him. You shriek in surprise, nearly falling over his body. He has you situated, facing the growing tent in his pants.

“A warning would have been a little helpful.” You speak as if trying to lighten the mood, not realizing just how far gone Hobie really was. He only grunts in response and relocates your hips back over his face. One small taste is not enough. He was determined to get more out of you, as much as he wants. His arms hook you into places before he absolutely dives in.

And he was messy with it.

Hobie didn’t care if there was spit everywhere. He didn’t care if he drowns in it. In fact, he would love to. His tongue licks a fat stripe on your cunt. He can cum in his pants from the taste and your own moans. This is where he is meant to be, he’s sure of it. He’s only been here for a few minutes, seconds maybe, but he’s never felt more right.

He tongue probs around your entrance, experimentally. You gasp with a shaky breath, clenching the sheets. It encourages him to follow through, slurping and tongue fucking you. His vice grip keeps you settled. With how much you were squirming, you would have moved off or too far by now.

“Fucking- gonna-!” You can’t form your mouth around your words. Your brain is fuzzy with the intense bliss building in your core. You’re nearly ready to burst when Hobie begins rapid small circles on your bundle of nerves. You throw your head back, hair whipping free and falling all in his face but that’s the least of his worries. Not when you unintentionally push your hips down, allowing his tongue to push deeper and his fingers to pull more.

With one final nudge of his tongue and jerk of his fingers, you’re creaming all over his face. He’s grateful to lap it up, allowing you to ride through your high. He removes his fingers from what he’s sure is your now sensitive clit and his hands take their place on your hips. You shudder, and despite his wishes, eventually pry his hands off you. “I can’t.” You drag your body off his. Your chest heaves as you get comfortable on your back. You can still feel your cunny throbbing but she’s in no shape to be touched right now. “Too sensitive.”

If Hobie’s face says one thing, it’s that he’s displeased. He rolls over and looms over you, staring you down. His locs fall in his face but he doesn’t look bothered by it. He’s too busy hooking an arm under yours and moving you closer to the headboard. “Nah. I think you got a few more in you.”

Your eyes flash as he lifts you with ease. “Yeah, in a second.” You’re already ready to push him back, glare on deck. Before he even lets go of your side, he’s forced your hands to the headboard and webbed them in place.

“Can’t trust you to sit still and let me work.” Hobie hurriedly pecks your lips. “Won’t be too long so don’t be too mad at me.” He flashes you a smile as he retreats. You think he’s going to leave you until he begins his dance of removing his spidersuit. The stretchy material peels right off him and he’s back between your legs, resting on his shoulders.

Hobie doesn’t bother looking at you. He’s smiling at your cunny, just as glistening as when he left him. “Can’t believe you tried to keep me away from her. Just look at how much she missed me?” He plunges his finger inside you again, only to scoop up some of your cum and drag it out. “Breaking my heart, ☆.”

Your legs nearly close, leg’s drawing together at the knees. He draws out a mewl out of you, your body contorting in all different directions. “You’re so mean to me.” You whine, jerking even more so when Hobie delivers a slap on your pussy.

He feigns an apologetic expression, forcing your legs apart again. “I’m so mean to you? I’m so sorry. Let me make it up to you.” He lowers his head against your skin. Like the previous time, he’s pacifying on your clit again but it’s stronger. He’s determined, gaining momentum and pumping his tongue in your slit. You can’t help but tighten around his tongue, back arching against the wood. Was his tongue extra long or were you unable to maintain your composure?

Hobie is understanding, though. He takes it upon himself to keep you where he wants you. Despite your squirming and pushing, he pushes down on your stomach. With full access, he slurps and suckles. It’s an endless stream coming from your heavenly pussy and that’s just how he likes it. Hobie drinks it all in as if he was a starved man.

He pushes your legs wider, farther, curling and compacting your body. He folds you until your knees are nearly touching your ears. You swear you can feel your heartbeat ricocheting through your toes at this point. You’re tugging at the makeshift restraints. “Ohhh my god,” your eyes squeeze shut. Your breath catches in your throat when he strikes just the right spot, still spongy from your last orgasm.

Hobie peeks up at you, smirking into your folds. You’re just as pretty as he imagined. Prettier. Even with your eyes screwed closed and your skin glossed over with a thin layer of sweat.

You tug your hands again, straining to touch him. “Don’t stop! Please, please, please,” you chant. Your own nails dig into your skin, acrylics scratching the surface. The burn is a distant thought. “Let me touch you. I need – I need to touch you.”

Hobie messily kisses your slit when your essence leaks out and smears across your thighs. “Cum and I’ll think about it.”

His bruising grip on your hip keeps your lower body still. Despite his somewhat lanky frame, he’s still adorned with the basic spider-man muscles. Not to mention his habits kept him fit with all the swinging through the city and climbing on walls he does.

Your only surface to find purchase in is your headboard. Your nails scratch the wood and you’re sure you’ll regret it later but it’s the last thing in your mind. Not when hobie is alternating between his tongue and his fingers. He’s bumping against your clit strategically. Your body is fighting against his strength, wanting to arch and wriggle.

You press your head harder into the hard surface behind you, grateful for your hair acting as a pillow. Your toes begin to curl and once again, your legs are attempting to force their way together.

Hobie only forces them open farther. He displays his displeasure by wrapping his lips around your clit. He’s watching you through his eyelashes, growing more irritated with each squirm. You’re moving too much and it’s making it harder for him.

You don’t notice, not when you’re gasping for air. You draw in one big breath, the release prompting the synchronized release of your cum. Your chest is heaving, brushing against tbe tops go your thighs. Your body shakes and shudders at his relentless to fuck you through it.

“You’re makin’ this more difficult than it needs to be,” Hobie rises from his position between your legs. He kneels in front of your and languidly strokes his fingers inside you. It’s not enough pressure or movement to draw anything out of you but he can’t help it, can’t stop. “Sit still.”

The waterline of your eyes are just barely teary. You sniff, twisting your wrists under the webs. “I can’t. Tried to tell you. You didn’t listen.” You resist a pout by pressing your lips together. “Can you let my hands out now?”

It’s as if he didn’t hear you when he leans forward and kisses the corner of your lips. Hobie’s weight shifts underneath you and your question goes unanswered. You’re committing to your pout, eyes narrowing. “Hello? Are you gonna or what?”

Hobie pauses. His eyes are locked onto yours with his head tilted as if to say are you sure about that? “You makin’ demands now?” He pulls his raging dick out of his boxers. Too nervous to, you don’t let your gaze wander downwards. Still, you can tell his mushroom tip is puffy and leaking down his shaft. He may not have the girthiest dick but it’s long and swollen, craving your tight little cunt.

Your mouth slightly drops open when he rubs it through your folds. You’re silent and pliant, maybe out of nervousness for the situation you found yourself in. Of course he takes advantage of this.

“Hm? You tellin’ me what to do?” He reiterates his question, just barely pushing his tip back inside you, only to slip it out when you mewl. He isn’t surprised when you don’t answer. He’s already moving your legs farther down. He’s hungrily watching the way your pussy envelopes and welcomes him in. “Fuck, baby. You’re tighter than I imagined.” Even after him working you soft, you’re still just as flesh against him.

He can feel your walls spasm when he give an experimentally shallow thrust. You reel, falling nearly limp just from how deep he is. The position, the mating press he has you in gives him direct access to the deepest parts of you. Hobie doesn’t have to try too hard to reach your g-spot, just shy of hitting your cervix.

He massages the backs of your thighs, smugly taking in this vulnerable side about you. “How can I let you out if you can’t even take this. Can’t have you fighting me.”

Even in his best dreams, he didn’t think you’d feel this good. Didn’t think he’d be balls deep in his favorite girl Halloween night. Hr breathes sharply, eyes closing to truly focus on his pleasure. The small amount of sanity and restraint he’s been holding on to all night is slipping out of his reach, especially when he begins slow thrusts into you. You can’t move, not even if you wanted to. Not when he has you caged in, limiting your movement.

His hips stutter the first time you clock around him. “Fuck,” Hobie clenches his teeth. His tidy nails create little crescents in your skin. If he could push you into the mattress more, he would have. He needed to be so deep inside you that your bodies had no choice but to fuse together. He wants your body to remember his, to remember the shape of his cock, to maintain is so he can come back to soften you into putty again.

“Stop tryin’ to push me away.” Hobie spits out. He can feel your legs pushing against his hands and he hates it. It only makes him tighten his grip until he’s sure you’ll forever has his handprints there.

“Too much!” You hiccup. Tears fall over your cheeks as his pace picks up. He’s nonstop nudging your cervix, going way deeper than your last fuck months ago. You could just explode, pulling and pushing to find a position to alleviate the pressure but no matter where you go, Hobie is everywhere.

He doesn’t know where to focus. Your face, your tits, the spot where you were connected. His senses are overwhelmed. “Can’t be. I’m barely doing anything.” He’s vigorously plowing into you. The slap of skin between your bodies is an absolute symphony to him.

Your moans beg to differ, booming in the air of your room. The possibility of your neighbors hearing you is a distant thought. You couldn’t give a shit about them and their discomfort. They haven’t had the sexiest man alive fuck them into insanity.

You also don’t have to tell him you’re on the brink of release, not when you’re damn near cutting his dick in half. He’s forced to still, much to his displeasure. “Poor little thing.” Hobie fakes his pity. He hooks one of your legs over his shoulder. “Look at me when I make you cum.” He demands, waiting until he’s certain your eyes are trained on him to dribble spit on your soaking cunt.

His thumb follows, easily gliding rapid ministrations across it. It’s all over the place, his thighs and yours. The smell of your sex feels the air. He’s intoxicated.

Your eyes are barely open but you’re doing your best. Your heartbeat races as you wind up tighter. Your mouth drops open but you can’t speak. Can’t say a thing. It’s all too paralyzing. The only sound you can make are hums of encouragement until one final thrust pushes you over the edge.

You convulse, a water stream comes flushing out your cunny. The webs over your wrist are the only thing that keeps you from clinging onto his chest when you jerk forward.

It comes so quickly, Hobie is yanking his cock out of you. He hovers over your body, furiously fisting it until ropes of his own cum flies out and decorates your chest. He’s out of breath, expectantly. It took all of his efforts to devour you as he really wanted.

You’re just as exhausted, lying limp and silent. At some point, your legs are softly placed back on the mattress and he removes the sticky web keeping you in place.

In an ideal world, he’d do it again but there’s no way you can handle it. He reckons he’s already pushed you past your limit.

“Come back to me, pretty girl.” He massages your side. In contrast to his previous behavior, his hands are gentle. They soothe the dim ache settling into your muscles. “There you go. Come back to me.”

Hobie waits until you’re settled, waits until you’re smiling weakly. “Where’s your towels at?” His limited view from your window never showed him your linen closet. All he knows is that it’s somewhere in the hallway.

You shake your head and push yourself into seating. “I’d rather just shower.” You say. Your face contorts for a second at the feelings of your legs recovering from that punishing stretch. You don’t even have a moment to react before Hobie is grabbing at you again.

“Are you okay? Do you need anything? Should I help you?” His hands are at your waist again. You quizzically stare at him while he fusses over your frame. It’s not like it changes anything. He know what he did to you.

“No, no I’m just but . . . how do you know my name. Or where I was today?” Flashbacks of your conversation play through your head. You suddenly feel gross with the possibility that you just fucked a creep despite said creep being extremely attractive.

Hobie pressed his lips together. He tilts his head away while his eyes bounce off your white walls. He pushes his locs out of his eyes, seeming to weigh his words. “Well, mm, ever since we met that one time, you’re just everywhere I go.” He’s totally lying and he knows that but you don’t need to. If he told you the truth, you’d probably beat his ass in.

“What?”

He peeks over at you before becoming super interested in the fabric of your pink sheets. “Yeah. You don’t notice but I run into you a lot and your friends are kinda loud, y’know?” He picks off a piece of lint. “So I just caught it one day, I guess. ‘Nd like I said, I was patrolling the area. Saw you come out.” His story sounds bad, oddly strung together. He knows. But he also knows you’re a bit dumb, a bit too trusting. You let him in your apartment to pee, for christ’s sake.

“Oh,” you nod. Just as expected, you believe him. At least enough to let it go and ignore what concern you may feel. “And you did this because? I mean, you don’t do this with everyone you just meet do you?”

In your defense, you are just a civilian. You live a somewhat normal life. This sounds like a completely reasonable explanation, although you are hyper aware of the fact that you were are it naked. It bothers you that Hobie doesn’t care.

He’s lax, rubbing the silk cloth between his fingers. The corners of his mouth are upturned and you have to fight the urge to ask him what’s funny. “No. Just you. I wouldn’t wanna do this with anyone else. Thought that was pretty obvious.”

You suppose it could be, though it doesn’t make sense to you. Maybe you aren’t sure how to wrap your head around the situation. So you don’t say anything in return. You just hum and nod because what were you supposed to say? This isn’t an everyday occurrence and you certainly weren’t expecting Spider Punk himself, tonight.

“Listen,” Hobie starts, “this is a lot, I know. Weren’t expecting it or whatever but at some point, you’re gonna miss me.” He grins all wide and smug. He is smug. He knows the impression he left behind. He knows what you like, what gets you going. You’ll miss him. “All I’m going to do is leave my number here, ‘kay? It’s completely up to you.”

You don’t like his arrogance. You don’t like it even more when he stands and strides right up to your nightstand. As he scribbles his number on your stack of sticky notes, you swear to yourself that you’re gonna throw it away. He’s too confident your your liking, too sure of himself. It’s almost as if he knows you’re not gonna get the memory of him plowing into you in a few weeks.

Not to his surprise, you don’t. It only takes him a few days before he’s hearing from you again, all hesitant and precious when you invite him over. And of course, he goes. Who was he to deny your right? Especially when the day he first laid eyes on you, he knew he wanted you.