#yeah i like her with smaller pupils

[theviolenttomboy]

Ha, Yamamoto is intentionally making Scarlet's eyes/pupils smaller in an attempt to make her less conventionally cute. He may make them like Mack/Blaise's later? I wonder if that'll be something to be changed once we get to the full volumes.

Here's her at the end of her proper debut:

Yup, her pupils def got a lot smaller.

[yanderenightmare]

Genderbend Himoko Toga

♡ TW: yandere, blood, wounds, kidnapping

♡ FEM reader

He's uncomfortably tall. Lurking and towering in the corner, blade tickling his lips and smile glinting as he runs his tongue over his teeth, eyes glowing bright yellow and dead-set on you.

Many in the league are bigger than you, but Toga really takes the cake when it comes to height. He doesn’t look like much standing next to Muscular, despite sharing the same eye level, but next to you? He can't even rest his chin on the top of your head without having to bend over.

You don't often see the muscle in him, but you’re smart enough to know what’s hidden within his large beige sweater. Long serpentine arms that sling around you like a boa much too quick for you to escape and fight, joined by slender fingers that seem to curl around your everything with ease.

You don't know why you're thinking of him at a time like this. Maybe the entrapment felt similar, where you were strapped to a chair, blindfolded, surrounded by gruff voices discussing whether they should kill you to send a message or bargain for something better.

It was clear they didn't realize you didn't mean shit to the League.

Your body hurts—aches from wounds and smaller cuts you’d sustained when they'd taken you. They hadn’t played nice. But you suppose you ought to see it as respect—however misplaced—that they regarded you with the same merciless ruthlessness as if you were a real League member and not just some toy they keep around for funsies.

Suppose Toga would just get a new one now.

Your kidnappers will realize it soon enough—how no one’s coming for you. All that effort wasted—must make them mad. They’ll probably kill you before long. But right as you’re accepting your end, there’s a sudden commotion...

Angry voices turn to panicked shouting. Then silence.

You wonder what’s going on.

You hear footsteps coming closer—light ones moving slowly across the floor until stopping before you.

Cold hands cup your face in a familiar hold, sliding your blindfold off, only to reveal a pair of yellow eyes staring back at you.

"You–” Your voice comes out thin and dry. “You came..."

Toga smiles at you—that same way he always does, bright and creepy with his fangs on display. "Of course we came, silly doll,” he gushes, nose-kissing you with a humming chuckle.

There’s a scoff, and another voice, one steeped in sarcasm, drawls, "Yeah, fuck forbid Toga's favorite toy wound up in the wrong hands."

"Tch–we’d never hear the end of it…"

Standing behind your unlikely savior’s crouched form is a familiar duo—one raven and another white-haired.

"Don't listen to them, dolly. They’re too blind to see you like I do."

Toga pouts, shaking his head at their words as he brings forth his knife—blood-drenched and still dripping from the assault. You spot the bodies on the floor and can’t help but cringe. Skin rippling with shivers as he uses the same blade to cut loose the ropes binding your feet to the chair. 

Dabi shrugs, "Don't get me wrong—she’s a pretty bitch, but pretty ain't worth all this mess." He kicks one of the limp bodies they’d dropped. Blood seeping out on his shoes.

Shigaraki grins, looking at you and your bloodied face, "She ain’t too pretty no more, though.”

Dabi, too, chuckles at the sight. "Yeah, they fucked her up a bit, didn’t they.”

They both snicker. "Sure you want damaged goods, Toga?”

Again, Himiko just shakes his head and ignores them, looking at you through those slim eyes full of something that scares you way worse than the men from earlier. "We should pity them, dolly. They don't have what we have. They don't love the way we do.”

He leans over your lap, bloody hands on your thighs as he looks up at you half-mast with pupils wide like the void—forgetting to cut free your bound wrists in favor of basking in the look on your pretty face.

“You're worth everything to me. Everything and more.”

With a blush dusting his cheeks deep pink, he graces your face with his knife. You swear you see his eyes nearly roll back—elated by the red staining your otherwise smooth skin.

"They really did a little number on you, didn't they~” he sighs with a flutter in his chest, biting his lip as he leans in closer for inspection. "Hmm, maybe I should've thanked them before cutting them up.”

He zeroes in on your popped lip and licks his own—voice coming out darker with what he says next, "They made you even cuter than before…”

The other two grimace before rolling their eyes and taking their cue, leaving you to fend for yourself. Not that you expected anything else. Though, you’re starting to believe you were better off with the previous kidnappers compared to the one in front of you.

"All bloodied and bruised…” 

Toga’s eyes get misty, overwhelmed by the tasty sight. 

"Don't worry, dolly—I'll nurse you back to health."

♡ BNHA masterlist

[johnbrand]

Sister's New Boyfriend

“C’mon bro, didn’t you miss this?” Scott teased, his giant Size 13 foot plopped onto the coffee table in front of me.

“Cut it out, Scott,” I hissed, knowing my sister was bound to call us into the kitchen any minute now.

“Why should I?” Scott cockily grinned. “We both know you want to.”

I held back the scarlet that threatened to color my face. “That’s not true.”

“It’s only been what, seven or eight years since high school?” Scott’s grin shifted into an exaggerated frown. “Surely you haven't forgotten me, have you? And all the fun times we had together?”

Unfortunately I had not forgotten Scott, or the “fun times” he was referring to. The constant bullying; harassment and name-calling and even a few bouts of abuse. It was painful for me to reflect on, both of us being the same age and yet being emotionally attacked by a man double my size. Since those years, the gym and my therapist had helped me move past those vulnerable times. Even though I had struggled to find a relationship, I was stronger now; a fighter well-off with a supportive network. 

“Luckily for you, I’ve moved on,” I snarked, sizing Scott up.

“I don’t think you have,” Scott’s smirk returned. “Otherwise you would’ve left as soon as you saw me.”

I had not expected Scott to be my sister’s new boyfriend. The man she had been gloating about for months, this “kind, sensible, loyal” being that had corrupted her life to the point that he was all she would talk about. I would have never assumed my sister–my older, highly educated sister–to end up with the malevolent jock who had destroyed my ego all those years ago. And after brief introductions, in which I realized I was still physically smaller than my former tormentor, I quickly sensed the looming danger of the situation.

“I’m not going to abandon my sister,” I retorted.

“You’re not going to abandon your commands, either,” Scott shot back, a bit to my confusion. Scott had apparently dropped out of college, but had become a fitness influencer in the years since, pulling in huge financial figures. It was difficult not to reflect on the fact that even though I had a degree, Scott had still come out on top. “Stop lying to yourself, buddy.”

Instead of another backhanded defense, I felt myself a slow warmth settling in his bones. My frustration subsided as a peaceful, almost artificial calm crawled over. My usual worries were smoothing over, something that Scott recognized immediately.

“Yeah, that’s it, buddy.” Again, the word sent a pleasurable warmth all across my frame, tingling my toes and twitching the corners of my mouth into the beginnings of a dopey smile. “I see a few years apart hasn’t weakened my conditioning on you at all, has it?”

I knew better than to answer. In therapy, I thought I had discussed all my qualms with Scott. Every single memory I could recover was heavily investigated, scrutinized, and then analyzed to create a plan for my future proceedings. But it was not until that very moment, in my sister’s living room reunited with my high school bully, that I realized I had only covered half of the relationship Scott had created for us. The memories my therapist and I had discussed, those were only the ones Scott had allowed me to remember.

“No Sir,” I replied, the title suddenly feeling appropriate. “Not at all. I still jack off to the thought of your magnificence at least twice a week as you instructed, Sir.”

My pupils inflated as Scott’s smirk grew sinister; this truth being revealed to both of us. 

“What, you didn’t think I just let you go after graduation, did you?” Scott’s words cut right to the bone, my embarrassment finally flushing my face. “I guess my hypnosis was better than I thought it was back then. I like to keep all my boys on a leash, in case they ever become useful to me again.”

Before I could respond, Scott snapped his finger and pointed back at his foot. Immediately, I was kneeling before him, my nose inhaling his godly scent and my tongue running across the holy valleys of his sole. Every breath sent another wave of affection across me, the submissive alter ego Scott had created for me back in high school overriding all the defenses I had built up since then.

“Who’d have thought one of them would eventually become my brother-in-law?” Scott commented. Even as my former life and independence was quickly evaporating, his smug victory brought a single tear to my eye. 

“I thought I was going to break the news!” My sister yelled from the kitchen, finally entering the conversation but apparently oblivious to what was actually happening. “Dinner will be set in a minute!”

“Thanks babe,” Scott called back, before searing his eyes straight through me. “Hope you’re ready to be an uncle too, buddy.”

That revelation snapped what was left of my free will. But now, I had more important things to worry about, like tending to Scott’s feet.

[sparrowlucero]

I genuinely like the other basilisks' designs better than Vi, they actually look cool while Vi is just kind of. blobby. I think I just rationalized it as Vi being younger than the others lol

Yeah. I should take the chance to clarify (to the people on the other posts explaining that this is just what baby basilisks look like) that I'm not saying I don't understand why she's smaller or whatever, I'm more critiquing the choices in their design for a younger basilisk in the first place; the choice to give her a human neck and round pupils, etc, presumably for relatability. I just don't think it works and it feels off on a design and frankly a thematic level that the nice one who has dialogue is so singularly humanoid. like they can still have a younger or cuter character that better retains the design choices of the originals pretty easily, ex.

[shotmrmiller]

this is for you, @ttsbaby01

here's the piece that inspired this

1.5k words because who knew i needed to write something like this today. i kinda edited it, just a quick skim, though.

simon x f!reader,

tw: explicit smut, p in v, the usual, MDNI

Simon teaches Johnny some new tricks

The moment Simon saw you wince when Johnny pushed himself inside of you, that was all he needed to see. Incredible. For someone that brilliant, Johnny is obtuse when it comes to sex.

Maybe he's blinded by lust, who knows, but Simon almost grimaces at the pace he starts off with, and when he sees you flatten your feet on the bed to meet Johnny's thrusts, Johnny simply pins you down with his weight, forcing you still.

Poor you. All you wanted was to come, and Johnny couldn't even tell, too focused on pistoning his hips into you to meet his own end.

How greedy.

And when Johnny does come, Simon chuckles when he sees your face. It’s mildly disappointed but unsurprised— like you’re used to it.

He watches Johnny kiss you before he pulls out and immediately gets up to shower. That's his cue— the sorry excuse of a show is over. Simon's about to shut his laptop when he sees your hand slowly travel down to your aching pussy and circle your neglected clit with your fingers. Oh?

When he hears your pleasured moan again, he sits up on his chair, pupils expanding as he takes you in. Now this is what he wants to see.

Every delicious whimper and mewl that slithers out of your throat makes his cock twitch in his trousers. He can't help himself. Simon takes himself out and starts to pump according to the rhythm you've set.

Oh, you take it slow, sensual, for a bit, and then pick up the pace. Your moans start to get a little louder as you circle faster and press much smaller fingers into your abused cunt. He knows that his one finger could stuff you better than two of yours.

He knows that he could pull those sweet sounds out of you with his tongue flicking your clit, his stubble scraping your inner thighs raw, his fingers curling inside to find the rough patch of skin on your slick walls.

His eyes are shut as he squeezes himself, precum dribbling onto his knuckles, and when he hears you climax— airy, high-pitched moans that's a bloody symphony to his ears— he also comes. Simon spills all over his hand and stomach, seed sticking to his happy trail, and he couldn't give a fuck less. You're the best thing he's heard in a very long time, and he's debating replacing the classical music he usually listens to at work with your voice.

Simon languidly opens his eyes to look at you on his screen, and the fucked-out, blissful look on your face is something that'll be engrained in his head forever.

He watches Johnny step out of the bathroom with a towel around his trim waist and lowers himself onto the bed to kiss you.

Simon shakes his head, and with his clean hand shuts the laptop. It seems he's gotta teach Johnny how to treat his girl right.

--

"How was it, LT?" Johnny gloats.

Sighing, Simon pulls him into his office and takes out his personal laptop. "You tell me, Sergeant."

Johnny looks gutted when the video gets to Simon's favorite part.

"Yer jokin'." He sounds miserable, and Simon would feel bad if Johnny hadn't been a braggart about how he fucked you in the beginning.

"'Fraid not' Johnny. I gotta admit, I didn't take ya to be tha' selfish."

Johnny opens his mouth to defend himself when Simon silences him with a swipe of his gloved hand. "I can help ya, though. Let me teach ya how t'please her so tha' this embarrassment doesn't happen again, yeah?"

Johnny's eyes, colour a mix of sea and sky, shine brightly as he looks up at Simon. "Are ye serious?"

"Wouldn't offer if I wasn't."

Simon clenches his jaw painfully tight when Johnny agrees.

Only once Simon stands alone in his office does he let his emotions show. The sound of his fist hitting the desk fills the room, first with one resounding thump, then with another, leaving his knuckles throbbing. He's going to bloody ruin you.

Maybe Johnny will be willing to share you after all of this is said and done.

--

Johnny came to him later that day, letting him know that you had also agreed, but no mask at home. You won't sleep with someone whose face you can't see.

Simon almost took his mask off in exhilaration on the spot.

--

Simon has your legs propped on the edge of the bed as he lapped at your sopping cunt.

"Johnny, ya gotta focus here," he pointed his tongue and circled it around your swollen clit, making your back arch, and Johnny has to tighten his hold on you. He sat behind you, your back to his chest, his arms around you as he looked over your sweaty shoulder to watch Simon eat like a man starved.

"And gently curl your fingers inside, you're looking for..." he paused, the tendons in the middle of his wrist fluttering as he prodded until you were squealing, dripping slick down his hand. "That. You're looking for her sweet spot," he instructed.

Simon keeps rubbing your walls, and every movement has the obscene squelching of your drenched cunt getting noisier. "She's about t'come, I can feel her startin' to squeeze my fingers. Look at her, Johnny. That's the face ya wanna see," and then he turns his attention to you. "Come f'me, pet, let me hear ya."

He encircles your clit with his lips and sucks, and you shatter in Johnny's arms— head thrown back onto his shoulder, trembling violently, loudly dry sobbing at the toe-curling ecstasy that's searing through your veins, stealing the very oxygen in your lungs. Simon doesn't stop thrusting his fingers, prolonging your pleasure, taking every bit of it for himself. It's the only time he'll be selfish.

Your head is clouded with arousal, numb from pleasure, and you can vaguely feel yourself being laid flat on the bed, limp legs hooked over shoulders, feet resting on a strong back— muscles rippling with each movement.

There's a buzzing sound in your ears, and you can see Johnny's lips moving, talking to you, and then he's stepping away. You lazily turn your head to the side, and watch Johnny kneel by the side of the bed, gaze intense as he looks towards where Simon is. Then there's something hot, heavy, and thick pressing into your entrance, splitting you open, sensitive walls stinging at the stretch, and it goes deep, and even deeper still— it seems never-ending until there's a pinch in your lower stomach.

"Atta girl, love." Simon grips your jaw with one hand, and commands, "Eyes on Johnny, sweetheart. Let him see ya and let me hear ya."

And starts to pump his hips. The depths that he's in are devastating, it feels like he's rearranging your insides, which is strange because Johnny's got a monster in his pants as well, but this.

This is different.

You're so sensitive from your prior orgasm that it feels so much more intense, and you can't even try to hold back the keens that are being wrenched from you. Your vision is blurry with tears from overstimulation, but you keep your gaze on Johnny, and he looks painfully aroused. His cheeks are bright pink, his mouth slightly open as he pants, eyes molten as he looks at your cunt swallowing up someone else's cock.

God, he's so pretty.

You're brought out of your musings when Simon places a pillow underneath you, lifting your hips and changing the angle.

The way Simon fills you to the brim with his cock, pushing you to, if not past, your limit is just plain disrespectful.

And then he grabs your legs by the ankles, your thighs touching your chest, folding you in half like a napkin to start thrusting shallowly— the tip of his head gently jabbing into your g-spot.

Your head goes blank, vision white, and your mouth opens into a silent scream, or maybe not so silent, who knows who cares.

Simon thrusts 4 times before that coil in your stomach snaps like a pencil. Your cunt clamps down on him like a vice, unwilling to let him move, but he only grunts and starts to slam his hips into your soft arse— spine rattling from the strength of him. He unrelentingly fucks you through your climax, hips never losing their rhythm.

He's bottoming out now, and you swear you can feel him in your throat, and he starts to pound into your used cunt. When you hiss from how tender you feel, Johnny cups your cheek and leans in to give you a soul-stealing kiss. It's sloppy, you can hear the slick sounds your mouths make, and when you moan into him, Simon's thrusts turn sloppy, choppy. Then he pulls out with a loud snarl to spurt thick, viscous cum directly over your puffy slit, coating your mons with it too— only to push himself back inside, head dripping with his seed, and slowly thrusts until he's overstimulated.

Simon gently lowers your legs back onto the bed, and you groan at the ache when you feel your blood rushing back to them.

"Fuck me," you mumble tiredly, and Johnny chuckles in response.

"Simon already did tha', bonnie." Johnny presses a kiss to your sweaty forehead and looks at Simon.

"I now ken what ye mean, LT. This was a different beast altogether."

You huff out a laugh because beast indeed.

Jesus.

[thefirstforgottenpages]

Speak up

Warnings: mommy kink, edging to overstimulation, manhandling, hair pulling, choking, praise, strap (reader receiving)… I think that’s abt it

thank you to @babybatlover for the idea!!!!

Your moans are shaky and unrestrained as you beg Rhea yet again to just let you cum. “Baby-Rhea- pleaseee!” But, your hungry little whines appeal to Rhea’s sadistic side and she just chuckles lowly, swatting your hand away and continue to kiss and lick and your exposed chest. Rhea was too good with her fingers you mused hazily as she once again hit your g-spot your back bowing off the bed in response. “You can take it sweetheart.” She smirks down at you, the simple action has you biting your lip in need. “My good girl, yeah?” The rumble of her aussie accent has your legs opening just a tiny bit more, allowing her more access to your dripping core. “So fucking easy.” Rhea chides nipping at your collar bone as a giggle slips past your parted lips. Putting on your best pout you look down at her, simpering at the sight of her pleasuring you. “I need you so bad.” You whisper delicately, batting your eyelashes in a ploy to rile her up. 

Rhea was sure you’d be the death of her. 

Especially when the accompanying noise that she drug out of you was so desperate she decided to give you what you wanted. You let out a shriek as she hoisted you closer to her. The effortless display of strength turning you on more than you’d ever admit to her. “Is that a yes- Oh…” you sighed happily as Rhea slipped her strap inside of your gushing cunt. Rhea grinned at your stupefied expression, gripping the sides of your supple hips to pull you easily back down onto her cock.

“This what you needed hmm?” Rhea purrs, moaning as your fingernails dragged down her back. No doubt leaving marks that she’d gladly parade around. “Ye-yeah- oh my goodddd!” Your satisfied mewl only eggs Rhea on as she increases the speed of her hips. “You’re so fucking hot.” Rhea bites out, each word punctuated by a passionate thrust that had you reeling. Your whole body trembles at the confident dominance that Rhea had over you. On their own accord, your legs wrapped around her waist in an attempt to have her even closer to you. “Such a pretty girl,” Rhea continues, her voice still seductively low. A sweet surprised gasp leaves you as her lips ghost along your neck. “My pretty girl.” She clarifies, as her free hand snakes down to play with your clit. 

You swear you see stars at this, your mouth hanging open in filthy pleasure. You’re vaguely aware of the pleased raspy hum Rhea lets out at your state, too wrapped up in her skilled hands that are playing your body so easily. It was like you were made for her. And in her eyes, you were. So as you rocked your hips against her, she paid little mind to the smaller sobs you let out until you said it. “Mommy-hahh-please fuck me…” You froze, your keen trailing off in self consciousness until you looked up at Rhea’s face. Her pupils were fully blown as she looked down at you with a renewed lust. 

“What did you call me?” Rhea murmurs huskily. A darkened look of possessive need covering her sharp features. Her hand trails up to your throat and squeezes addictively. Your eyes roll into the back of your head, your hand resting on top of hers as you flounder for your answer. Rhea quirks her brow at your silence, slowing her hips to a lazy grind. You let out a breathy cry at the loss of stimulation, biting your lip once more as Rhea cups your mandible, tipping your chin up to look at her. 

“Speak up gorgeous,” she says sickeningly sweet as she presses several insistent kisses on any skin she can reach. “And mommy just might fuck you so good that you won’t be able to walk tomorrow.” Your mouth drops open at her filthy words. The moan that leaves you is absolutely pornographic, and it takes all the restraint that Rhea has to not fuck you until you writhed completely dumb beneath her. 

“I..fuck Rhea…” you trail off embarrassed, your face is bright red and your pathetic whimpers have her grinning down to you. “Say it.” She says quietly, licking a stripe of your neck with a sultriness that has you choking out a low plea. “Mommy,” you moan out brokenly at she starts to thrust into you again. “Oh-holy fuckkkk.” You wail as Rhea presses closer to you, caging her strong arms around you. “There we fucking go,” Rhea grins against your neck, her hand on the inside of your thigh keeping your legs spread wide for her. “So wet for me too.” Rhea hums. You nod vigorously wrapping your arms around her neck as your smile warbles unabashed. “All for you mommy.” You hiccup. Your back arches as she pulls your hips back into hers. “God that’s fucking sexy.” Rhea groans eagerly, the precise push of her hips leaving you breathless.

“Please-please ‘m gonna cum” your shy whines have Rhea whining needily into your chest. The tightened coil of arousal that is swirling in your belly is so close to snapping, and with the dirty talk that’s being cooed to you pushes you closer to the edge. “Then come on mommy’s cock baby,” Rhea drawls, dragging her lips across yours. “Make a mess for me to clean up.” You cry out achingly as you cum, chanting Rhea’s name over and over. 

You barely come down from your high as Rhea flips you over dragging your cunt towards her face. Your lip trembles as she begins to lick at your clit. “Rhea?” You gasp out surprised trying to move your hips away from her mouth. She smirks up at you, and you moan at her debauched state, her lips already glistening. “Oh no sweetheart,” Rhea purrs once more, licking around your clit and into your fluttering hole. You yelp at the overstimulation, your hands threading into her long hair. 

“Mommy’s not done with you yet.”

[starhvney]

𝐌𝐘𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐒

𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: blaze, garroth, gene, laurance

𝐂𝐖: NSFW, sexual content and kinks, but nothing extreme or disturbing

𝐀/𝐍: woah omg guys who wrote this?! it wasn't me i swear!! (it was me) i’ll probably make a part two with the other men i didn’t include in this one but um… yeah someone needs to restrain me i’m biting my keyboard

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

𝑻𝑯𝑰𝑺 𝑷𝑶𝑺𝑻 𝑪𝑶𝑵𝑻𝑨𝑰𝑵𝑺 𝑵𝑺𝑭𝑾 𝑪𝑶𝑵𝑻𝑬𝑵𝑻, 𝑰𝑭 𝒀𝑶𝑼 𝑨𝑹𝑬 𝑼𝑵𝑫𝑬𝑹𝑨��𝑬 𝑶𝑹 𝑼𝑵𝑪𝑶𝑴𝑭𝑶𝑹𝑻𝑨𝑩𝑳𝑬 𝑾𝑰𝑻𝑯 𝑺𝑬𝑿𝑼𝑨𝑳 𝑪𝑶𝑵𝑻𝑬𝑵𝑻 𝑷𝑳𝑬𝑨𝑺𝑬 𝑫𝑵𝑰.

𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐙𝐄 | biting/scratching, restraining, predator/prey

☆ you had discovered that he got off on chasing and catching you one day when you had jokingly teased him and ran away, giggling as you went to hide from him. he had frozen just a second, giving you a headstart before he quickly went after you.

it’s really unfair, a human running away from a werewolf literally twice her size in height and muscle. you let out a surprised shriek when familiar, thick, tan arms wrap around you.

it felt like he was nearly about to tackle you, but you’re instead whisked off of your feet and pressed into the nearest surface—the wall. you tilted your head back to look at him, eye’s widening when you catch his gaze.

he huffs, hunched over you and pupils blown wide in lust. you’re shocked you riled him up so easily, and you’re just about to open your mouth to tease him again when he pins his hips into your behind. he grinds his hardened bulge into your ass, cutting off any of your previous thoughts and turning them into mush.

“got you.”

☆ you’re just so cute when you look up at him like that, eyes wide like a bunny trapped in a wolf’s claws. it’s instinctual, really, so can you blame him for how turned on he gets? the thrill of the chase and claiming his catch is in his blood.

so it’s no wonder that he claims you there and then, not bothering to move to the bedroom and instead humping into you from behind.

“so tight.” he groans, his voice nearly sounding like a growl. “feels s’good every time.”

he bites down on your shoulder, groaning and fighting off every urge to immediately go hard and rough. he still knows you’re smaller, and it shows in the way you whine when your pussy stretches and flutters around him, struggling to take him in.

☆ when you finally do adjust, rip to any kind of movement or function below your waist for the rest of the night. you will be numb and sore for days.

one of his hands easily has your wrists pinned together, pressing your arms against your chest while he uses his other arm to guide your hips. it’s incredibly easy for him to do, lifting you up before bouncing you back down on his cock at a ruthless pace.

you’re not sure what to do with yourself, head drooping and legs twitching and flailing while he has you completely restrained by your torso. he was hitting so deep, you’re sure you can feel it in your throat with every thrust.

his nails dig into your sides, not breaking the skin but still leaving irritated scratches along the surface while his mouth continues to hotly lick and bite into the skin at the juncture of your neck.

☆ it’s not until a mix of your cum is dripping out of you, trailing down your thighs and onto the floor beneath you that he finally calms down, whispering apologies in your ear while leaving sloppy kisses on your jaw.

“sorry, babe,” he pants, heart thrumming in his chest against your back. “i don’t know what came over me.”

he once again picks you up, carrying you bridal style in his arms as he kisses every scratch and bite mark he left behind before cleaning you up and snugly tucking you under him in bed.

𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐇 | size kink, manhandling, breeding, praise

☆ he is tall and he is stupidly strong. he would never ever use his strength to hurt you, but he still loves how much smaller than him you are. he thinks it’s adorable, how easily he can throw you over his shoulder, or how he can flip or bend you whichever way he wants.

you had let out a startled squeak when garroth had scooped you up as soon as you entered your home, wasting no time before the front door had even shut.

he had carried you with ease to your bedroom, tossing you onto the mattress without even slightly gasping or struggling for breath. when his long, thick fingers met your folds to prepare you, he was surprised to find you were already soaked in your slick.

“does me throwing you around like that really make you this wet, baby?” he smirked, slapping his erect cock onto your stomach, admiring how the tip nearly reached your navel.

☆ he knows he has to be careful, with his unnatural strength. but it’s so hard, especially with how your cunt greedily sucks him in, fluttering as you struggled to adjust to his size.

“fuck,” he hisses, his fingers roughly gripping the sheets by your head. “relax, sweetheart. or it’ll never fit.”

“ ‘m trying!” you whine, never getting used to the stretch even after all of the times you’ve gone through this process before.

☆ as soon as you finally do adjust and he bottoms out, you find yourself practically folded in half as he pounds into you, his hips slamming against your thighs.

his eyes focus on your lower abdomen, fascinated at the bulge that appears every time he slides himself back into your walls. his hand is large and warm, something that overwhelmed you as he pressed down against your stomach.

your legs shake and spasm against his hands as your eyes roll and your head lulls back. a sign, garroth has learned, that showed you were close to tipping over the edge.

“are you gonna cum, baby? yeah?” he pants in your ear, his pace stuttering. “go on. do it for me, i know you can. mhmm, good girl.”

as you tighten and flutter around him he lets out a broken moan himself.

“you gonna let me cum inside? you’d look so cute pregnant. you gonna let me fill you up? make you a mommy?”

☆ he buries his face into your shoulder when he reaches his peak, strong hands holding you in place as his hips jerk and press into you. his grip would probably leave bruises, ones that he’d individually kiss and apologize for when you were done.

a deep, husky groan vibrates against your throat as he stills, and his hot release shoots up, coating your insides white. you’re still catching your breath when he places sloppy kisses against the crook of your neck, lowering your legs and massaging your hips.

“you did so good for me, sweetheart.”

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄 | degradation/teasing, spanking, dacryphilia, dumbification

☆ you really should know better than to try and tease and be bratty to him, because it always ends the same. though, you did know better, because he always reacted exactly how you wanted.

you whine into the sheets your face was shoved in, your grip white-knuckled against his pants as you were splayed across his lap. your back arched against his long hand that held you in place, while his other one cracked down against your reddened ass once again.

your hips jerk against the leg you were bent over as you muffle your moans.

“where’d your claws go, kitty?” gene questions, gently soothing the irritated skin with his lithe fingers before delivering another harsh slap. “you were talking all tough earlier, weren’t you?”

☆ he lifts you up, keeping your head face first in the bed while he raises your ass up in the air, pushing himself into you. he gives you just enough time to adjust before he’s started a merciless rhythm, your moans and cries stuttered and jolted every time he slams into you.

“poor thing…” he turns your face to the side, kissing the tears of pleasure from your cheeks and licking his lips with a grin. “just keep taking it. can you at least do that? hm?”

you nod, gasping and eyes rolling as the thick vein running along his shaft continues to hit that one mind-shattering spot inside without fail. you’re not sure how many times you’ve came now, but the soaked sheets and sticky feeling against your thighs was enough of an indication.

“good doll,” his thumb from the hand that firmly held you down between your shoulder blades rubbed soothing circles on your skin—a sharp contrast to his rough and unwavering pace.

“yeah, you’re too sweet to be tough, aren’t you?” he tilts his head, laughing at how your attempt to tease and one-up him once again ended with you drooling underneath him. “sweet thing.”

☆ he’s the type to mock your moans as he has you bent over and nearly unconscious, his deep voice pitching higher as he whines and gasps in your ear.

“ah~! mmn~! aah~!” he whines, a raspy laugh leaving his lips when he realizes you’re too fucked out to even respond.

“aww, can’t take it anymore? you should’ve thought of that before you started talking like you were all tough, huh?” he juts his lip out, giving you a look of fake pity as he continues to show no mercy in his pace.

☆ it’s not until he knows you really are at your limit that he finally slows down, brushing your hair back and kissing you as he rolls you over to lay on top of him.

“are you okay, lovely?” he whispers, holding your droopy head between his hands.

you sleepily nod, relieving his tense worry that he had been too rough on you. he wraps his arms around you and mutters for you to hold on as he carries you to the bathroom, whispering praises in your ear and peppering sweaty kisses against you.

𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 | marking, overstimulation, orgasm control, begging

☆ you’d lost track of how long you’d been in bed, something that was a common recurring theme anytime laurance dragged you under the sheets with him. 

his hips leisurely roll down into yours as a lazy and overconfident smirk stayed cockily plastered on his face. he ducked his head  down into your neck, kissing casually on the exposed skin as if he wasn’t balls deep inside of you right now.

“laurance,” you whine in frustration, hips twitching and bucking up into his. “please.”

he bucks deeper into you, pinning your hips into the bed and preventing you from squirming any further. he tilts his head and hums innocently, lips brushing along your jaw and hovering over your lips.

“please what, my love?”

“move,” you demand, cheeks red and chest heaving.

he clicks his tongue disapprovingly, continuing to slowly grind into you as his lips trail away from yours, moving to nibble on your earlobe.

“well that’s no way to ask for something…” he purrs, voice vibrating against your ears.

“please, go faster, harder, something!” you grit, nails digging into his shoulders as he suddenly draws back and snaps back into you.

“good girl. keep begging for me like that and i might give you more.”

☆ the teasing fuck doesn’t actually keep to his promise until you’re a babbling mess from his slow movements, spasming on his dick while he’s barely gotten started. when you finally really beg for him, you almost regret asking for it. almost. 

“oh, fu-ah!” you cry out, hands reaching down to push on his waist in a futile attempt to slow him down. “slow down, laur—ance!”

laurance barely raises his head from where he has just been sucking on your chest, lovely red and purple marks forming on the sensitive skin. his eyes droop in satisfaction as he stares down at you, admiring your mussed hair and bleary expression.

despite your overstimulation, he continues the same unrelenting tempo, his length battering your insides as he smiles down at you.

“oh, but how could i after you asked me so nicely to speed up?” he asks, relishing in how you spasm around him as he coaxes yet another orgasm from you.

your eyes scrunch as you arch up into him, gasping and frantically steadying yourself by digging your fingers into his toned back. you see white as you gush and squirt around him, jaw dropping as you try to catch your breath.

you think you’re in the clear as his hips still against you, giving you a moment of reprieve to recover. as soon you open your eyes they blow wide open, a startled moan leaving your lips as he pulls out to the head and hastily snaps himself back in.

“c’mon, just one more for me? you can do one more.”

☆ “just one more” is never the case with laurance. it’s not until he himself has wasted his own energy that he finally collapses, leaving you both spent and satisfied against the sheets. 

he relishes in the afterglow, giving you sloppy kisses as if he hadn’t been doing that for the past couple of hours anyways. after his legs return their strength he carries you to the bathroom, knowing he once again left you sore and used.

he’s used to the scandalized gasp and harsh slap he earns on his chest when you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. 

☆ he always leaves you with hickeys spanning from your neck down to your breasts. sometimes you’ll find them on your lower stomach and thighs… if he spends a little extra time on you that day. 

“laurance zvahl! how am i supposed to hide this?”

“by wearing my sweater again…” he giggles, rubbing his hands along your waistline.

©starhvney, 2024. please do not steal or repost my works as your own.

[fee224]

Sickest girls in town

Perfect little family

Rafe woke up to a soft knock on the door that nobody would’ve noticed if he wasn’t such a light sleeper. He rubbed his eyes, leaning up on his elbows as he watched the door creak open and two tiny shadows waddle in, the biggest one struggling to hold a tiny thing as the smaller shadow made her way for rafes side of the bed.

A small rough cough came from Elsie mays throat as she clawed at rafes arms, waiting to be picked up, which she was seconds later, and placed in between rafe and you.

“Daddy I feel sick” Lottie climbed onto the bed with her sister crawling to her mama. Rafe grumbled tiredly, pulling her up to him and swiping a hand over her forehead. “Mmshit” he whispered with his eyes still closed, wanting to fall back asleep. “Y’got a fever baby” he sighed as Lottie got comfortable beside him.

“We all do daddy” Elsie murmured from in between them all as rafe reluctantly woke up. “Yeah? You feel poorly too?”. He smiled, unbothered as Elsie climbed on top of his chest and cuddled into him.

You stirred at the whispering, and the small finger poking into your side, opening your eyes to little Sadies satisfied grin at your consciousness.

“Hey princess” you muttered, turning to rafe who had two girls cuddling close to him. You’re throat felt sore like you could barely talk, and your eyes felt exhausted, the warm blanket was oh so tempting.

“Mornin’ sweet” he sensed your awake presence without squinting an eye open.

“Mommy! We’re sick!” Elsie announced loudly from her perch on daddy’s chest. You smiled tiredly. “Yeah, think me too” you said as loud as you could manage, without your throat stinging.

“Got you all huh?” Rafe rubbed Elsie’s back soothingly as she drifted back to sleep.

“Kicking our sorry butts” you smiled, scooting closer to the poor fool looking after you for the next two days.

Next thing there was sounds coming from the kitchen of cupboards being opened and not closed. “Raccoons back” you sighed “aight im gonna go have a cigarette with the raccoon then I’ll be back Kay?” He winked to you, placing Elsie and Lottie carefully tucked under the comforter and striding out of the room in only his boxers.

You’re eyes felt like they only shut for three seconds when he came back in with bottles of milk and tea for you on a tray with a wide pupilled Barry trailing behind him in a graphic tee and sweatpants.

You sat up against the wall behind your bed, tucking Sadie under your armpit as you fed her a bottle. “The fuck you doin’ in our bedroom, get out perv” he pushed his chest back out into the hallway as Barry trunched back into the kitchen area.

“Thanks rafe” you said calmly as he gave you a gentle smile, rummaging through his drawers. There was a peaceful early morning silence as you sat up in bed, the girls beside you drinking hot milk from their bottles, watching the tv placed on top of a dresser. You listened to the shower through the thin walls.

He came back in minutes later with wet hair and clothes. You stuck your tongue out at him and he blowed you a kiss in return.

He took the best care of his girls for the rest of the day, forcing warm drinks down their throats, providing himself as a human hot water bottle, making chocolate cereals for dinner, bathing all the girls and getting them back into bed while you napped. Rubbing your back as you released dry coughs throughout the night and sitting up with you.

“Love you ray” you whispered with your eyes shut as his hands massaged your back gently, trying to send you to sleep.

“Love you y/n” he kissed the back of your neck, lifting your long hair out of his way.

- fee xxx

[writersdrug]

Mourning Dove

König x Reader

Chapter 1. A New Path

Masterlist

Summary: It's been nearly two months since you and Drew had fled the city for the thick, endless forest. You had escaped the infected, only to get stuck with a monster of a different kind - a selfish, abusive asshole named Drew. But you'd had enough - it was time for your plan.

Warnings: DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT, cursing, abusive behavior and speech, mentions of domestic violence, reader uses sex to her advantage but it's unwanted, so rape

“There’s a city on the other side of the mountain.”

Silence. Nothing returned your statement other than the crunch of leaves and stones under your feet.

“Is this big enough to be a mountain? Feels too small for a hill.”

An irritated sigh.

“Unless it’s smaller than I think…”

Nothing this time. He needs one more push.

“If we go and check it out, there might be some suppli-“

“For fuck’s sake!” Drew finally shouted, turning quickly on his heel and looming over you. You gripped the edges of the map you held, nearly tearing a hole through the thick paper.

“We are not going down there! How many times do I need to beat that into your head?!”

Your eye twitched at the reminder, your body immediately tensing in preparation. Your jaw was still sore from the last time you’d unintentionally worn his patience thin. This time, however, you wanted to poke the bear. You needed him riled up and irritated, particularly at you, for your plan to work.

Play dumb. “I- I just thought- you said we were almost out of water, and I-“

“That’s why I have the fucking water pills.” He snapped. His pupils were nearly drowned in the amber of his eyes with the weight of his anger. “And I showed you how to use the Lifestraw three fucking days ago. Didn’t I?”

You nodded. “Yeah, you- you did, I’m sorry, I just wasn’t sure if-“

“If we’d need clean water? When we’ve been following a stream for ages? And when have two fucking ways to purify the water? Hmm?!”

That was good enough. Not to mention, he seemed like he’d have no hesitation in taking a fist to your eye if you continued to babble on nonsense. You looked at the ground and mumbled an apology.

He sighed. “Don’t open your mouth unless it’s something important, got it?”

“Yes.”

“Fuck did I just say?”

You nearly apologized again, but you stopped yourself. Unsure if he wanted a response at all, so you just stared at the rocky ground beneath your worn shoes. Tears burned on your waterline – that was unintentional, just a reflex after weeks of consequence brought by his ire.

“Good.” He growled. He turned back away from you with an annoyed sigh. “Just- keep up. It’s not even noon.”

You looked up at the yellowed haze of cloud that completely blocked out the sun. It was a miracle he could tell what time it was; you thought he’d lost the ability when his watch had died, permanently stuck on three-o-six. Still, somehow, he was able to keep track of the hours, even though the sun hadn’t shown its face since the fog came around. That was weeks ago, unfortunately. But who was to say he wasn’t lying to you? You weren’t savvy enough to his liking, and he certainly hadn’t kept his distaste for your inexperience a secret. Either he was telling the truth, and it would be another long, agonizing day of journeying – or it was afternoon, and he was just trying to get under your skin.

Walking. That’s all the both of you had done since the first day, the day the virus had shown itself in the country. Drew took you deep into the woods, abandoning the car somewhere in the thicket of trees, once it had run out of gas; burying it under broken branches and smashing the windows with rocks. It could have been some kind of security measure, to make sure the car would be unusable should someone else stumble upon it, or it might have been him taking his anger out on the vehicle. But speculation was satisfying enough for you; better than getting a palm to your cheek for asking the wrong questions at the wrong time.

Then, he began walking, and you followed. A few days turned into a week, which then turned into several weeks. He never had a destination in mind, so it seemed. When you asked what the plan was, he’d answer with a simple “stay alive”. Something about staying on the move, and hopefully, you’d get lucky and stumble upon an abandoned shelter, with sustainable tools and foodstuffs. You’d held onto the ridiculous pipedream for a while, before the hunger became the new normal, and the idea of bathing became a luxury – a joke. You didn’t hope for anything nowadays, besides the wish that Drew would finally cut ties with you and go his separate ways.

Maybe he was right, that you couldn’t survive without him. You’d been the one holding the map since the get-go, yet you hadn’t paid much attention to it. The rivers and valleys and roads had all been branded into the backs of your eyelids, but it meant nothing to you in relation to where you were now. Drew had never asked you for directions; he had his compass and a small, folded map of what you could only assume to be the earth you treaded now. He certainly didn’t need you for help.

You imagined he made a split decision that day, deciding you would be worth the company, if not anything else. But as each day had passed, you felt nothing short of a leech on his back, and he never hesitated to make that known, either. You wondered what else he’d be doing, since half of his time was spent yelling at you or dragging you underneath him. Was the satisfaction of how much you let him push you around enough to drown out the annoyance of your presence? Did fucking you every night help him overlook his abhorrence to you? Or would it have been just a bit too cruel to let you end up like the others? He probably didn’t care about the latter. Besides, you were sure that whatever woodland creatures remained wouldn’t care if he cranked his frustrations out here and there.

“Hey.” Drew called over his shoulder, noticing your furrowed brow. He never liked it when you were thinking – at least, more than any normal, stupid girl should be. “Stop doing that.”

You glanced up at his back, then down at the forest floor. Your feet were sore and blistered, and you had to tread carefully, considering this was certainly your last pair of shoes. “I’m not doing anything.”

“You know what I mean.” He snapped. His eyes darted between his map and his compass, seemingly paying you no mind. But he was always aware of what you were doing; he’d spent a little over a month alone with you in the woods. He knew the difference between your mindless dissociation and your contemplative thinking. It irked you to no end. Your thoughts should be yours, and yours alone. You didn’t like being easy to read, let alone by him.

Which is why you had to be careful. You wanted to bite back, tell him to leave you alone, get lost… hell, you’d been holding back the desire to sink your teeth into his flesh and rip. But then you’d be just like one of those things out there, and you needed everything you could gather to remind yourself that you are, in fact, still human and sane (for the most part). Plus, you needed the plan to work. Drew was quick to anger, a fuse with a minacious, short wick. Despite that this had given you the upper hand, he wasn’t stupid – he’d know if you were purposefully taking it too far. Turning the heat up underneath him too quickly could throw this entire scheme out the window. And you needed this to be perfect. It was your only chance.

So you bit your tongue, dipped your head, and followed after him. Not too closely, at least. You stayed out of reach of his fists should he decide to take his frustrations out on you.

When the sun was gracing the edge of the horizon, and the mountain was descending into a thick shadow, Drew had found a spot he deemed good enough to rest at. The turf was dry, void of any wet leaves or sludge, but it was still cold. The chill of the dirt soaked through your shoes, which were barely holding together – shame on you for deciding to wear flats on your date over a month ago, when the world had started to end – and straight into your feet. You didn’t want to sit down, instead opting to shift from one foot to the other to keep your blood flowing and your legs as warm as they could be.

The space he’d chosen was better than last night’s. A towering wall of rock stood tall, part of the mountain that was far too steep to climb. The ground was decently flat and clear; Drew mumbled that there’d be no fire tonight, since you had mentioned that there was a city nearby, and possibly some of the infected (distance never seemed to be an issue for their senses). He dragged both of your bags under a sturdy fir that guarded the edge of the rock wall, grabbing the tarp, rope, and his knife from his pack. The temporary home would keep your backs protected, facing the drop of the mountain, so you’d only have your fronts to worry about, if anything even dared to trek up the steep incline.

He never let you help him set up camp (if you could even call it that). He had never even let you try. He wanted you to sit there and busy yourself with whatever would keep you occupied, and would help you leave him alone. He didn’t like it when you stood and watched him, but you responded to his bitching by saying the ground was too cold to sit, and there was nothing for you to do. So you followed his next suggestion (more of a demand, but you liked to see the more positive aspect in things – it’s what kept you going through all of this), and went for a walk while he set up the thermal tarp for a basic shelter.

“Don’t leave my line of sight.” He called out. You said you wouldn’t.

Every evening, the constant fog that plagued the daytime would roll down the mountain and disappear for the night. The moon was still no clearer; the thick fir trees blocked any direct light from casting beams with their dense, unforgiving shade. Like a dream, a nightmare that you were never allowed to wake up from. A present state that you were never permitted to know the outcome of, whether you would survive all of this – or even, how long it would be before the virus took you too. In the daytime, when you should be able to see over the trees that descended down the hill, you were met with the smoggy, amber cloud of dew. At nighttime, what little sky that managed to poke through the blanket of pine needles would blend into the darkness of the forest.

The world was a snow globe, shaken up by the creator to make things interesting, and you were still waiting for the clouds of dust to settle before you could make sense of everything. This life must have been too boring for its audience, you supposed, and that’s why you were here.

There was still no explanation for what had happened – at least, not that either of you had heard. But it’s possible that no one knew. It’s more likely that the broadcasters had been infected at their desks before they could spread the information. There was no theory, no hypothesis. None worth wasting energy to relieve the itch in everyone’s brains. There was only the evidence: the wailing, screaming, and shrieking, coming from the west side. The panic that held you down like an anchor when you and everyone on that street had witnessed the bite; the creature’s teeth sinking into another’s throat with no sympathetic yield, the way you realized how stringy flesh really is when it’s being ripped apart.

They looked mostly human, but only in shape. Their flesh was dull, and their veins were a blackened crimson, running like poisoned roots under their skin. Broken bones nor open wounds could stop the gnashing of their teeth. The eyes were clouded with deep red, and the outlines of the iris were barely visible beneath it. It was a sharp reminder that they were people before they were infected with the virus, and an even more painful question: were they still there? Were they dead, or were they living hosts?

Eventually, Drew called you back to the camp, and you hastily returned before his anger could beat you there. You gave in and sat on the cold earth, using your knit cardigan as a buffer from the chill, while he sat under the tarp shelter.

Dinner was a protein bar split between the two of you, and it was eaten in silence. The chewy, peanut-butter-flavored granola did little to satisfy you, but it rounded the rough edge of hunger that had been pinching your stomach. The MRE’s were saved for days when more energy was exerted. You only had so many of those left, and it was unlikely that there would be any more lingering in an abandoned store, if Drew ever did choose to look for more supplies.

It was an unsettling thought: one day, he’d run out of food and ways to purify the river water. His tools would break, batteries would die, clothes would wear down… and the both of you might not be so lucky to happen upon an untouched store. You had just been lucky that Drew carries his rucksack in the back of his car – the fact that he had the car for as long as he did was a miracle. It managed to drag you across thousands of miles of Europe, before the fuel stations had run dry. All in all, he seemed very prepared for an insane situation such as a viral apocalypse, which should have been a red flag. But considering your current position, and how you could have ended up… infected, you weren’t opening that can of worms.

Still, it did beg the question, you thought as you chewed on the never-ending granola. Why did he bring you along?

Up until the day the world collapsed, he’d been nothing but caring and sweet. A little too eager to have you exclusively, you had thought, but who are you to underappreciate affection, wherever you can get it? A gentleman was hard to come by these days – even if Drew barely fit that mold. He was nice enough, paid for dinner the first date, took you to a movie for the second, and fucked you nice on the third. How could you complain about the minor things, when he was a good boyfriend in other aspects?

Things changed drastically when the virus had begun to spread. After witnessing a walking cadaver bite the jugular out of an innocent bystander, he had dragged you out of your shock-induced stupor and into the passenger seat of his car. He had barked orders at you, but you were too busy processing the blood and the half-dead, still-chewing corpses on the streets as you passed them. His words landed on deaf ears, so he smacked you, which then gave him your full attention. So much had happened that one day that you had brushed it off as a necessary action. He couldn’t take care of two people when one of them was in shock, you reasoned. Besides that, you eventually realized how fortunate you were to have escaped in one piece with him. For all you knew, the two of you were the only ones to make it out alive – or, rather, uninfected.

But the change in his behaviour was a permanent one, you soon found out. Every day, you were reminded how much of a burden you were, how he saved your life, how grateful you should be (because apparently asking what the plan was more than once when you didn’t receive an answer was very ungrateful of you), and what you would be if he hadn’t brought you with him: dead. Nearly everything you said to him earned you with spit in your face and a welt somewhere on your body. If you asked him a question, his reply always came to you in a raised voice. You figured that the loss of balance and routine in his own life had driven him to this – he needed something under his control, and unfortunately, you were the only living thing within a twenty-mile radius of him. You became that something. The bird in the cage.

“Y’know I never wanted this.”

You looked at him as you chewed the last bite of the protein bar. It wasn’t a new conversation, though it wouldn’t have surprised you if it was. His actions had been nothing short of hateful.

“I wouldn’t have brought you with me if I could help it.”

You could have. You wanted to say. You could have left me standing in the square. I would have died there and would never be your problem. But you have said this before, and all it did was land you with a bruise somewhere on the back of your head.

You didn’t know if he wanted a response, but on the chance that you could make him angry, you gave one. You needed to. You needed him to be angry.

“I don’t… I didn’t exactly plan this.”

He laughed with disappointment. Apparently, you’d said the wrong thing.

You continued: “But thank you.” Thank you for dragging me into nowhere, for bringing me along with you just to call me useless.

“At least you know what charity is when you see it…” he mumbled, chewing on the last bite of his protein bar. “You know how far you’d’ve gotten on your own?”

You kept your venom tucked away into the corners of your mind. For the plan. “I think- I would have been alright, maybe…”

“You’d be one of them.” He spat, staring into your eyes with malice. He wanted to hurt you, to keep you scruffed with your nose rubbed into the dirt. “You can’t do shit for yourself out here, even when the world’s not on fire. You’re pathetic, y’know that?”

You waited to see if he’d let you off the hook, but he continued to glare at you. Slowly, you nodded your head.

“Answer me.”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah?”

“… I’m pathetic.” You said quietly. You might have been biting the bullet just to enact your plan, but the words dragged daggers on the inside of your cheeks as you spoke them.

He stared at you a few moments more. You wondered if he was satisfied with your admission, or if he could stand a bit more self-degrading statements from you. The hair on the back of your neck bristled under the intensity of his gaze, so you looked at the ground. A sign of submission, but hopefully one of the last ones you’d allow him.

He stood slowly, shucking his jacket off and dropping it behind him. Your gut grew uneasy as he stalked over to you; your eyes darted between his face, his expression somewhere between irate and smug, and back to the darkening woods behind him. The sun had fully descended behind the mountain now, and you were once again surrounded by the blanket of shadow. You felt a tremor building in the base of your spine as you could only assume what would happen next.

He reached his hand out and held your chin, surprisingly gently – though you still flinched. He dragged your head upwards until your eyes landed on his face. There was cruelty laced into his brown eyes, and his unkempt hair only added to the feral look about him. You knew that the lust was one of the reasons he had kept you all this time – why he brought you around in the first place, you couldn’t say. But, unfortunately for you, there hadn’t been much you could do to keep him at bay. It was better for you if you worked with him instead of against him; at least, that’s what he’d told you every single time, but you had come to believe it. Still, this would be the last time you’d have to endure it.

“Stupid girl…” he muttered, brushing his fingers against your cheek. “You don’t know what’s good for you, do you?”

Saying no would be too obvious – he’d know you were trying to win his approval for a reason, and you couldn’t risk anything tonight. So, you continued to look up at him, letting the tears weave into your lash line.

“Aren’t you lucky to have someone like me?” He continued, cupping his hand over the crown of your head.

You nodded as a single tear spilled down your cheek.

“I don’t like getting mad at you, I swear…” no matter the meaning of his words, they continued to drip from his tongue like slime. You wanted to choke just from the sound of them. “It just seems like you don’t trust me, after all this time…” he smeared the tear against your skin until the water chilled, making you shiver. “… after all I’ve done for you. You don’t think I know what I’m doin’?”

You could feel his fingers working themselves into your hair, and you squeezed your eyes shut. “I’m sorry…” you said for the umpteenth time that day. “I just get worried, and- I know you tell me not to, but I can’t help it.”

“I know, I know…” he murmured, his fingers clenching into the roots of your hair, making you wince and grip his calf, a silent yet timid plea for him to be gentle. “You’re not used to this, I get that. But you gotta leave it in my hands, sweetheart.” He pulled your head back until you were looking up at the sky, making you groan painfully. “You promise me that? You promise you’re gonna let me do what I need to do?”

“M-mhmm-“

“Use your words.”

“I promise-“ you sputtered out.

“Good, good…” he said, releasing your hair. Your head dropped down and rested against his thigh. The plan. Remember the plan. You can use this.

“You don’t need to worry about what I’m doin’. Just tell me what you need and I’ll decide what to do, alright?” He said lowly.

“I- I want it…”

“What do you want?”

You gritted your teeth, then forced yourself to look up at him. “I want it… rough, tonight.”

You heard the growl rumble through his chest, and noticed the subsequent tightening of his pants right in front of your face. It filled you with a nauseating dread, but it would only be one more night, just one more, one more time, and then it’s over-

“All that gotcha worked up, didn’t it?” he chided, folding his arms over his chest as he smirked down at you. As if this wasn’t where he expected the night to go. “All that yelling and orderin’ you around gotcha riled up, darlin'? Looks like you’re starting to know what you’re good for. How you can help, since you’re always asking.”

You didn’t look up at him. It was bad enough trying to stomach yet another night of what you were trying so hard to escape. Now, for him to think that you were starting to crave it; you wanted to grab the nearest rock and bash him in the head with it. Or grab his legs and throw the both of you down the mountainside, to be done with it, once and for all. But, as easy and refreshing as that sounded, you needed this. You needed your freedom. Sacrifices had to be made to have such a thing, especially in this day and age.

You closed your eyes and pressed your cheek to his groin, feeling it stiffen and twitch from behind his pants. You tilted your head back to look up at him, wide-eyed and giving the neediest look you could. He had never been more unattractive to you than now, but the chance to escape had never been more desirable.

“Please…” you said, reaching your other hand up to palm at his abdomen. “I can be good, I can… I can make up for today. I promise.”

He sighed, as though he was surrendering some part of his responsibility and morals. You knew it was a front – the only reason he wasn’t forcing your face into the earth was because you weren’t fighting back this time. He reached a hand down and roughly tapped your cheek a few times. You winced, but held back the urge to jerk away from him. He then rubbed the reddening spot on your cheek.

“Alright then. Show me.”

Just one more time.

Next ->

Taglist: @nic-stars @teenagellamaangel @zhuyingsworld @crypticme @konigswifeyforlifey @zlunia @gremlinmodetweeker

[sweetbunpura]

Charmed by the Sea ch.2 - What if Yuu had a different form? - Megalodon

“A warning would’ve been nice about the taste.” She stuck her tongue out. “And why is everyone looking at me?”

“Your form...” Ash answered.

Yuu felt larger for some unknown reason, she looked over to the twins and raised an eyebrow at how small they looked. They both eyed her in whatever form she was in, while Ash and Ruby seemed to have backed up by a few inches. She glanced down at her body and jolted as she spotted her very long and large brown and white tail. The white underbelly stretched from the middle of her tail up to her chest. She grabbed her thick tail and felt along the caudal fin, the sandpaper like skin scratched at her fingers. Yuu turned her arms, seeing the long and thick brown fins attached to them.

Twisting her body around, she spotted a large dorsal fin attached to her back with a pair of smaller pelvic fins attached to her hips. Yuu took a few moments and glanced back down at the Leechs. All four of them were looking up at her, up at her. She placed her hands over her face and sighed.

"I'm a fucking megalodon..."

Floyd swam up to her and circled her waist with glee. "Uwah~ You're so big now, Shrimpy~"

Jade joined his brother. "I believe she's no longer a shrimpy."

Ash swam up to Yuu and lingered a few inches away. "That's incredible, you're a titan."

Ruby piped up from below. "And one of our ancient predators to boot!"

Floyd paused and stared hard at Yuu. "Wait... that means I can't squeeze ya... You're too big!" He pouted and wrapped his body around Yuu's arm. "This ain't fair!"

Jade laughed as he hovered near Yuu's head. "Now, now , Floyd. Miss Yuu can't help it if this is what the Sea Witch gave her."

"Yeah, and besides." Yuu effortlessly pried Floyd off her arm and held him in her hand. "That just means you have to watch your fins around me." She smiled, sharp teeth on full display as she eyed him.

Yuu watched as Floyd processed the position he was in. Mismatched eyes flicked down to her hand and then up to her face. His pupils engulfed his eyes and his tail started wagging. Floyd started wiggling with excitement while Jade moved down to settle himself in Yuu's other hand. She watched him curiously as he did a mini circle and sat in her upturned palm. His pupils followed what Floyd's had done as his tail unintentionally wrapped around her wrist.

"...Are you both enjoying this?"

"Gross." Grim settled himself on Yuu's shoulder in all his chubby tuna and catfish hybrid glory and crossed his arms. "Nasty."

Yuu raised them both up until they were at eye-level. "Do my eels like being held?"

"Yes." They both said simultaneously.

"Oh sevens..." Ash sighed and shook his head while Ruby started laughing.

Jade and Floyd to Megaladon!Yuu.

Bonus: Jade and Floyd chill on Yuu when she swims around. These two are now the worse guilds cause they've both fallen asleep on her while she swims. But they also get a snack cause small fish flock to her in an attempt to stay hidden.

[kinglazrus]

Truce 2024

@charcoalhawk Happy Truce! Technically, I have not finished editing, but I didn't want to make you wait too much longer, so enjoy the first third of the fic! I will update this post with the full fic and an AO3 link when I finish editing tomorrow.

Prompt: Danny finds out that ghosts can have (non-blood blossom) food allergies

AO3 link to be added

—

Danny winces when the flash goes off, and rubs his eye as Sam’s camera spits out the photo. It will take a few minutes for the instant film to develop. Thirty seconds before they can make out basic shapes. A minute after that for the colours to settle in, and then one more until it’s at full contrast. But Sam plucks the photo from the ejection slot, raises her eyebrows at the still-white square, and tuts.

“You ruined it,” she says.

“Did not!”

“Yeah, I can feel it.”

Danny leans forward to snatch the photo out of her hands, but Sam scuttles backward across her carpet to escape. He could give chase, but it’s not really worth the effort, especially when Sam ends up in the far corner by her tipped over box of scrapbook supplies. Too much ammunition at her disposal.

Danny twists around to face Sam’s bed, where Tucker sprawls with one hand on a comic book and the other digging through a bowl of popcorn. “Come on, Tuck. Back me up.”

Tucker’s stare skips from Danny to Sam before sliding back to his comic, and he says, “I bet you blinked.”

Traitor.

Danny’s wounded noise is punctuated by Sam’s sharp laugh, and she keeps snickering under her breath as she grabs a marker. It takes less than thirty seconds for Sam to mark the photo with the date, select a handful—literally, she sticks them to her palm first—of ghost-themed stickers with complementary shapes and colours, and add the photo to the next empty page in her scrapbook with the stickers as a border. She even finds that empty page in a single flip. Danny has seen Sam’s mother attack a floral arrangement with the same precision, but wisely decides not to mention it.

Sam then scoops all the supplies back into the box with a single sweep of her arm and zero organization. (This, too, is like her mother, who has a drawer of trimmers and flower food and floral wire all in a jumble that Danny glimpsed once two years ago, and he’s still not certain it was real.)

“It’s fine,” Sam says as she shoves the box under her bed. “It’s as good as we’re going to get.”

“That’s not actually reassuring.”

“Here, look.” She shuffles back across the room, holding the scrapbook out to Danny and Tucker.

The colours haven’t finished developing, but the image is clear. Sam’s room with its purples and blacks and the occasional splash of red. Her curtains in the background, with deep shadows in the folds where the light can’t touch. The candles on her bedside table in the foreground, with their perfect little flames, or as perfect as a Polaroid camera can capture.

And Danny, sat cross-legged in the middle of her carpet, the air around him fuzzy and dotted with static, eyes wide, one pupil stretched and pinched in the middle, the iris around it a bit too green for his human form.

“Huh,” Tucker says. He’s holding the scrapbook now, though Danny didn’t notice him taking it, or even realize he was off the bed until that moment. “Should we be worried about that?”

Tucker turns to the previous page. This photo is dated a week prior, taken at Tucker’s house. Danny slouches on a beanbag chair, attention fixed on the monitor across from him. His pupil is normal, but the static remains. It’s in the photo before this one, too, and the one before that, and the one before that, all of them taken about a week apart. It takes a good ten photos for Danny to realize the field of static is growing smaller as they go back.

“So, I noticed something weird,” Sam says.

Danny glares at her. “Wow, really?”

“Just, look. Remember that extra credit project you did for biology?” Sam swats Danny’s hand away and turns the scrapbook to the very first page, revealing a picture of him and Tucker cuddling at the zoo. “It was only a few weeks after the accident. I didn’t even see it at the time, but a few days later I was going through my photos and spotted this.”

Sam taps Danny’s figure. It takes a few seconds of squinting before he sees it—a faint speckling around his body, little flecks that could be mistaken for damage if the photo weren’t only a few months old. The photo next to it is dated almost a month later, and the speckling is much more pronounced.

“I’ve taken a picture of you every week for the past few months to keep track, since I noticed it was growing stronger. I didn’t really think anything else would happen until your eye changed last month. And the pupils are new.”

“Oh, well, thank goodness for that. At least there’s something new,” Danny says.

“And you didn’t blink,” Tucker offers.

“This is bad, right? It seems bad.”

“We already knew you don’t photograph well.”

“I think digital files of me getting corrupted is a bit different than this, Tucker!” Danny flaps his hands at the scrapbook. This is great. Perfect! Just what he needs! A stock of evidence that could expose him if anyone found it. Not that Danny doesn’t trust Sam to keep the scrapbook safe—she did retrieve it from a box under her bed in the first place. But Sam isn’t the only person in the world who owns an instant camera.

It was fine when, a few days after the accident, they discovered Danny couldn’t be photographed by typical means anymore. No matter how many times Tucker tried it on a dozen different devices, the image was always corrupted, becoming a wash of static. But Sam’s Polaroid still worked, and so did the digital camera his parents made. He nearly panicked the first time his dad took a family photo after the accident, but apparently the Fenton camera’s ability to “capture a ghost in its truest form” means Danny looks normal in either form. No corruptions, no distortion. Just Fenton or Phantom.

How long will it be until that camera doesn’t work, either?

Danny wraps his arms around his head and groans.

“It might not be as bad as you think,” Sam says. “Before the eyes, I thought it was just your ghostly aura. But your powers are a lot stronger than they were a few months ago, and I think some of that is bleeding through in the pictures.”

“You think that sounds good? I don’t want to be more of a ghost.”

“Do you feel like more of a ghost?”

Would he even notice? He opens his mouth snap back, but Sam’s questioning look stops him.

“You don’t look any different,” Tucker says. “No fangs or pointy ears.”

“I don’t have those as a ghost.”

“You don’t have them as a ghost yet.”

Sam snaps the scrapbook shut. “Tucker, that’s not helping. But I have a theory. In more traditional ghost hunting, people use photography to capture what they can’t see with their naked eye. I don’t think you’re becoming more of a ghost, but as you get stronger, your ghostly aspects show up more on film. Your digital camera still works, right?”

Danny nods. They use it often enough that he would have noticed something by now.

“Then this”—Sam pokes Danny in the chest—“is still your ‘true’ form. But if you’re worried, we can always keep an eye out for pointy ears or fangs.”

Danny wants to pick through the scrapbook again, check every photo for something Sam might have missed. But she holds it tight in her lap and keeps looking at Danny like she knows exactly what he’s thinking. He’s so focused on the scrapbook that he doesn’t notice Tucker leaning in and making a peace sign until a shutter goes off.

Tucker lowers his phone and turns it around, his smile falling when he sees static. Squinting, Danny can only just make out what might be Tucker’s peace sign, and two brighter spots that are probably his own eyes.

“Aw, man,” Tucker says.

“Dude, what else did you expect?”

“I thought it might be different now since Sam’s pictures are. I still don’t get why that works but my stuff doesn’t.”

“Isn’t it some superstition that analogue technology works better around ghosts?” Danny asks.

“Your parents don’t use analogue!”

“My parents specifically design their gear to function around ghosts.”

“So unfair.”

Sam shrugs. “Those superstitions have to come from somewhere. Ghosts have probably been around as long as humans have. There has to be some truth to all those old stories. Like the blood blossoms.”

Sam isn’t looking at Danny when she says it. She’s turned away, returning her scrapbook to its place under her bed, so she misses the way Danny freezes for a second.

But Tucker doesn’t. “You okay?”

Danny forces himself to move, leaning back against Sam’s bed and folding his arms behind his head. “Yeah.”

It’s impressive how Tucker manages to say, “Dude, are you stupid? I know you better than that,” with nothing more than raised eyebrows. It’s also a bit rude.

Danny sticks his tongue out in return, but Tucker’s eyebrows don’t get any lower, and he has to look away or else he might crack. It’s stupid, getting worked up at just the mention of blood blossoms. It’s a flower. A couple petals on a stalk. Thinking of them shouldn’t make his skin hot and his chest tight and his tongue prickle.

He grips his knees and takes a deep breath, Tucker’s stare boring into him all the while. After a few seconds, Tucker says, “Okay,” and presses his leg against Danny’s. The warmth grounds him, and by the time Sam comes up from under her bed, his breathing has evened out.

“Think a salt line could stop him?” Tucker asks. He reaches up to the bed and grabs his popcorn. “Ooooooh, the great ghost boy, stopped by salty deliciousness.

“you said salt line, not salt...whatever this would be. Besides, popcorn would never betray me like that, no matter what Jazz thinks.” To prove his point, Danny grabs a handful and shoves it in his mouth. Buttery, salty, delicious popcorn. “I love you,” he says to it.

Tucker snickers. “Is Jazz still making your parents do that healthy diet thing?”

“Oh my God, yes, I hate it.” He sits up and puts on his best Jazz impression. “‘You need to take care of your body to care for your mind.’ It’s nice that she knows my secret, but I don’t think she realizes she doesn’t need to find ways to be useful. Just having her helps.”

“Maybe say that to her?” Sam says. “She probably feels bad that she didn’t mesh with the team. I get it. We’d be pretty upset if we couldn’t help you, right, Tuck?”

“Hm?” Tucker, as focused on the popcorn as Danny is, blinks. “Oh, yeah.”

“Okay, sure, but Sam. Please. She doesn’t let them buy chips. I haven’t eaten popcorn with salt and butter in a month.” Oh, how Danny has missed it.

“I bet there’s fudge,” Sam says.”

“Yeah, try and get my mom to stop making fudge. Or my dad to stop eating it. Jazz knows when to pick her battles.”

“And her enemy is popcorn.”

Danny nods solemnly. “It’s popcorn.”

[emotionoitme]

could you write about carmy having a size kink??? like before him and reader actually fuck he's obsessed w how much bigger his hands are than readers and then reader says something abt his dick being big and if might not fir and he just loses it

why am i fking frothing over this prompt i love size kink

i imagine reader as a new girlfriend, & carm invites her to family one night as they begin dating.

he’s absentmindedly tracing over her fingers as he holds her hand, hearing as she giggled to the punchline of whatever story richie was telling. carmy’s gaze travels down to her hand resting on his. he flips his palm over, their hands flat against each other, comparing the sizes. her hand seems tiny in his, the man marveling at the difference, completely checked out of the conversation. he spreads his fingers, watching hers grow smaller, catching her attention. she looks over to him, then down to their touching hands, her fingers clasping around his.

“your hands are so big,” she observes quietly, feeling as the man lets out a slow deep exhale. he felt inflated, almost, letting a small grin tease lips.

“you think so?” he asks, letting go of her hand and grabbing onto her thigh, softly rubbing the skin with his thumb. her breath slightly hitches at the contact, meeting his eyes, whispering a “yeah” in response.

he leans in to whisper in her ear, inviting her back to his apartment for the night—the breaking point—when they get there it’s all tongue and lips and teeth, pulling and grabbing each other until they can’t get closer.

he undresses the girl, hovering over her laying form, removing her shirt as if he’s unwrapping a present for himself. his hands span the skin of her hips, waist, ribs, coming to the supple curve of her breasts. she’s small under him, pupils blown with lust, closely watching his every move.

he leans back, removing his boxer briefs, freeing his cock from confinement, gleefully watching as her eyes widen. he grabs her hips, pulling her to the edge of the bed, laying the length of his erection along her stomach. she hesitantly eyes it, looking up to meet his gaze

“carm,” she whispers, “i don’t think it’s gonna fit,” a restless fluttering in her stomach.

“fuck,” he groans, a hot surge rushing through him at her words. he slaps his cock against her stomach. “you wanna try, baby?”

she eagerly nods, biting down on her lip as she feels him press his firm head against her entrance. he pushes forward with no avail, finding a strong resistance past the first inch of his tip. she lets out a breath, further spreading her legs open.

he grabs the base of his length to give it a second try, pushing forward, only finding her warmth coat his head. she lets out a whimper. he pulls out, placing a light smack on her thigh.

“ ‘m gonna have to stretch you out a little first,” he tells her with a low voice, “you’re too tight,” a small grin on his face, watching her needy facial expressions.

“hurry,” she whines, “please,” scooting forward.

he spits onto his fingers, pulling her closer.

pt 2

[c4n1d43cup1d]

Some hogcanons. notes (me rambling) under the cut

So silver was the reason i wanted to make this in the first place despite him looking the most on model (not entirely obviously, but i don't have many hcs for him). Mostly i wanted to draw his height compared to the other hedgehogs since him being freakishly tall despite being younger than sonic and shadow is funny. I saw someone say hes probably the most conventionally attractive hedgehog and i think that's true, hes a pretty boy and his fur/quills are really sleek and well maintained. The fluff on his chest is less spikey and more fluffy looking plus i put some fluff in his ears as well. I think his paws and nails are black and he doesn't wear eyeliner his lashes are just really long and hes got black markings on his eyes. Coming back to this after writing Amy's desc but i think hes genderqueer in some way idk maybe bigender i need to study him under a microscope some more every character i touch becomes transgender

Sonic has a few more added details, i like giving him a little nick in his ear and top surgery scars because that hog is trans. I haven't really seen many people give him stylized top surgery scars surprisingly, i tried to make his look kind of lightning bolty because uh something about him being fast. idk man. i think i imagined its similar to what itd look like for him to run in a zigzag? whatever i think it looks cool. I think his claws are kind of uneven and he doesn't really care too much about how they look especially since he just has them under gloves most of the time

Amy is fat because i said so, also i gave her wavier quills and heart markings everywhere. Her ears might look a little strange since it like implies her skin is making that heart shape but i imagine thats her fur spiking into the point. Her nails are painted the same red that shadows markings and stuff are mostly because i think them being besties is cute like. i see shadamy as a queer platonic relationship. Theyve always been my favorites im going to to make them as close as i want. Anyway, i think she and sonic are tied for having the shortest ears, and hers are the rounest (might make them even rounder the next time i draw her) also not entirely related to her design but i think shes transfem and genderfluid.

Shadow my son. im taking custody from black doom and gerald. anyway, i have the most headcanons for him because he is my absolute favorite guy ever he rots my brain. I think he and Amy are the same height, his rocket shoes are like platform/heels and so when he has them on he looks like Sonic's height or maybe a teeny tiny bit taller. I give his quills extra little spikes for no reason other than i think its cute, i could bullshit that its a black arms thing but idrc. What are black arms things though are his eyes and claws, his scelera is a more yellow compared to everyone elses (jaundiced as my friend put it. thanks endy) and i didn't draw it but his pupils are slits. Claws are long but are even longer when all the way out (retractable) his gloves are thick enough that he doesn't pierce them but he probably has a few spare pairs. Also not pictured but black arms related: his teeth are fucking razors, larger than the other hedgehogs and also serrated because i think thats cool. his tail is the longest out of all of them though i think it used to be longer but was lopped off in the name of science and never properly grew back. also his inhibitor rings are connected to a sort of device that does the task of being a proper gateway between his internal energy and the rings themselves, i didn't draw them but essentially its like a smaller ring that is embedded into his wrists i think. also hes trans but in a sort of alien way, i think the black arms can do the clownfish genderswap thing and shadow has it to a somewhat lesser degree its like an internal tshot i guess idfk

ok yeah thats all if u made it to the end thanks for reading the ramblings of a mad man

[sinning-23]

Piercings Pt.2 (Sanji x Reader)

First of all… THANKS SO MUCH FOR THE LOVE N SUPPORT ON THE LAST ONE! Nice to know we all love some Sanji lol.

Also if you want a pinch of context I suggest reading Pt.1 UHHHHH but if not enjoy this lol smut is one of my fs or things to write so uhhhh yeah! I hope I did good lol!

⚠️!THIS IS AN 18+ FIC MINORS BE TF GONE!⚠️

❗️Warnings❗️: Sanji being smug, choking, biting, cunnilingus, unprotected, p in v, fingering, multiple orgasms, overstim, sanji speakin that french

Pt. 1 here

Enjoy!

After the kitchen fiasco, you opted to keep yourself out of there until further notice. The wall ended up being scorched as well as some of the utensils he used. All the windows needed to be opened to clear the smoke out and it didn't help that the smell of charred food lingered for a while.

It has been about 4 days since then and every day you can't seem to keep your hands off each other. He's got his hands on your hips, claiming he just needed to get by with a quiet, "Pardon me, dove." His lips always dangerously close to your ear.

You were no better though, also claiming that you'd dropped something and needed to use his thighs for support when getting up, looking up at him under pretty lashes. This tension was that of a frozen lake, one misstep and you'd fall into him, hoping he embraces you like that of icy water.

Speaking of which, the burn you endured ended up being minor and the cold water did most of the trick. He insisted on bandaging you still. Just an excuse to touch you more.

Touch.

All you two ever did now was touch

And tease, and poke, and prod, in hopes of the other finally cracking and putting all that tension to good use. When you had docked at a smaller island in hopes of finding a marketplace (you did) Sanji didn't even ask if you'd join him.

He just took your hand in his, because it wasn't even a question at this point. You're with him unless you stated you wanted otherwise.

Walking past the vendors, his hand stays at your hip, more possessive than anything. You poin tout something you like? It's yours. See something you want to try? It's yours.

These days you're growing more and more concerned for his wallet. Anytime you'd try to decline he's simple shake his head, draw your hand to his lips, and kiss your knuckles.

"Anything for you, chérie"

The crew could sense this.....energy loomin' over the two of you but of course nothing was really said...that is until Nami nudged her head in the direction of Sanji when you two happened to be on the main deck this afternoon. You quirk a brow as she leans in to try and keep the gossip between the two of you.

"What really happened for the kitchen to catch fire? I mean?" She questions with a smirk, making you laugh, nervousness laced in the tone.

When you two first told the story, Sanji said he had distracted himself and took too long preparing other parts of the mean and he lost track of what he was doing and how long.

You, on the other hand, said that you accidentally bumped the stoved handles making the flames higher, and maybe a towel or something caught fire.

It was all bullshit.

When Sanji had taken it upon himself to plant kisses down your neck, he left something quite noticeable that wasn't there before. It was all bullshit and everyone knew it. You distracted him, and he just couldn't help himself.

"I-I told you what happened Nami. It doesn't matter anyway! The kitchen is back to normal thankfully." You sigh, trying to figure out what exactly you came out here to do?

Oh, that's right.

Find some way to get your hands on Sanji.

"If you say so, but,” Nami shrugs, pausing when she see's Sanji follow to the back of the ship, his eyes focused on you, pupils blown wide. He falters but only for a moment, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. Then he leaves, your breath stuck in your throat.

"I think someone's waiting for you to follow them so..." Nami observes, palm coming to hold your shoulder.

"Don't set anything else on fire." She teases, seeing you full on sprint to where he was.

You look around, the hall empty. He just went this way didn't he-

You're snatched up, mouth covered in the quiet of the hallway, a hand firm on your hip. Before you can even process your attacker, a set of lips is hungry against your own, a hand at your throat. You can hardly breathe from the shock, both teeth and tongues against one another as you embrace.

Sanji’s got you close against him, his back against the wall with your chest to his, one leg keeping your thighs apart as you lean into him. He still has one hand around your throat, squeezing just enough to make you whine, wanting more pressure.

The height difference makes you lean upward, itching to have all of him. Despite the hall being quiet, your little secluded corner is awfully loud with the sounds of your labored breaths combined.

"Sanji...Sanji wait-" You speak between kisses, his hands under your shirt now, immediately massaging the area over and around your back dermals.

"Ne parle plus, je veux juste te goûter. "

That shut you up, quick, the sound of his mother tongue slipping past his lips when he can't seem to keep his hands from wandering.

"What if we get caught." You gasp, feeling him bite down particularly rough on your collarbone.

"Y/n, know that right now, I don't particularly give a fuck. I need you." He huffs, still tasting every in inch of exposed skin he could find.

His lips are soft, brushing over your neck with a smirk. He knows the mess he left over your skin, bark bruises, and indents of where his teeth had been adorning it.

"They know the whole kitchen thing was bs." He chuckles darkly, his next sentence sinking straight to your cunt.

"I'm sure they're well aware of who you belong to now. I made your neck even more of a work of art honey."

You're practically soaking through your panties now, and are in dire need of friction. In an attempt to secretly get off, you grid down against his thigh...

But hes quck to notice.

"Oh, that's why you’re worried. Let's go." He exhales with a smirk, pulling you to his room and swiftly closing the door behind him.

It's not messy by any means, the bed is made neatly with a pack of cigarettes on the nightstand. You would’ve loved to look around more but Sanji is back on you and there was no way in hell you’d complain about that. He’s quick but calculated, sliding his hands under your shirt before pulling it off completely.

There's no time to be flustered, you'd both wanted this for quite some time now and you could both keep up with one another. Your skin prickles with he sudden chill of being topless, your nipples hardening slightly. It's just enough for him to see what else you were hiding.

Beneath your bra, were of course your nipples, but there they were, pierced, the bars through them being decorated with jade at each end. His breath hitches and god had he gotten impossibly harder at the sight. You're sitting on the edge of the bed now, Sanji kneeling before you with pupils blown wide.

All the permissions needed was the slight smirk on your lips and your back arching as if to invite him to touch and taste as much as he pleased. Without hesitation, he's got one in his mouth, tongue swirling around your already sensitive bud. The other he squeezes, thumb brushing over the area.

You can't help but sigh in pleasure, tangling your fingers in his hair while he makes it his mission to kiss all of your torso, noting the matching belly button ring. How did he not see this before? Well, most of your shirts were loose anyway. God he loved how adorned your body was with jewelry, like you were some kind of treasure just for him.

He can tell you're growing impatient with the way you push your hips forward, most likely trying to the feeling to relieve a little pressure with the way your pants pressed against you there.

"Let me taste you, please."He aks, breathless, lips still somewhat swollen from kissing prior.

You nod unable to speak with how damn pretty he looked. On his knees, eyes glossy and lustful, asking for permission to eat you out?! How could you say no? You lift your hips, sliding the jeans down just enough for him to pull the rest down.

You were right, your panties were damn near soaked, your arousal wetting the front. Sanji only moans at this, knowing it's all his doing. The feeling of him pressing kisses to your clothed clit makes you shiver, and he doesn't stop, tongue wetting the area as if to tease.

"Please Sanji, I need-" You pause for a moment, a bit embarrassed to ask for this. He only chuckles and runs his finger up your still-clothed folds, then massages the plush of your thighs.

"What do you need honey, tell me and I promise you I'll make it happen." Hes eager, kissing, sucking and biting at your inner thigh now, the feeling making you dizzy with desire.

"I need your mouth on me...please." You whine, trying to close your legs to relieve some of the pressure but he only spreads them apart again, strong hands keeping you there with a dangerous look in his eye.

"You'll take what I give you. Now be a big girl, ask for it, and stop chasing it, sweetheart." He thinks to himself "My mouth is on you. See?" He demonstrates, kissing your thighs again, one had on your hip, massaging circles there while the other tossed your leg over his shoulder, the action only spreading you wider.

Little shit. He knew exactly that you meant.

"No, you know what I mean. Please. Eat me, Sanji." You plead, feeling him smirk against your front.

He's got your panties off in no time. Almost immediately latching to you as he slurps you up, tossing your other leg over his shoulder now too. Your thighs act as a pair of headphones essentially, your fingers tugging at the blonde locks as he moans in response.

You can feel it now, your orgasm coming faster than you thought with how well he was eating you up. Like a starved man and his first meal in ages. He lapped at your juices, taking a chance at sliding not one, but two fingers into you.

"F-uck!" you stutter, feeling him curl upwards, still sucking at your clit.

He knows you're close, but he doesn't care, keeping that same pace to work this out of you. You can feel that damned piercing, rolling slowwwwly around your clip. Another cues slips past your lips. "Ohh, such a dirty mouth honey? Are you gonna cum for me? Can't even control yourself." He teases, watching you grip the bedsheets as your stomach muscles clench.

There it is.

Somehow his lips are back on yours, swallowing up the moans from your orgasm as his fingers slow in pace, trying to get you to come down from that high. Multitasking came easy to him, so for him to keep fucking you, now 3 fingers in while also using his free hand to push his own pants down was no hard feat.

How many times did he practice that??? Your hands are gripping his shoulders, nails digging into him in surprise when you feel the tip slide against your slick folds.

For a moment your eyes meet and damn do you have a chance to really, really look at him.

His face is dusted pink, eyes bright red. His eyes are glossy, pupils wide, lips shiny and slightly parted as he tries to catch his breath. He's no different than you now, admiring how you look, how you breathe, the way you cling to him like he'd vanish somehow.

It's intoxicating.

Your lips meet, softer this time, your heart beating like crazy with your stomach twisting in delight, full of butterflies. You're soft, and so is he, so much more gentle now in realization of what's about to occur. This means more to you now. It’s not a one time thing. You have no time to overthink because his voice, husky and passionate.

"Are you okay with this? Do I have permission?"He asks, pitch almost a bit higher, likes he’s holding back a whine.

Such a gentleman through it all. It makes your heart swell. You nod, whispering out an awestruck 'yes' before connecting your lips again. And the stretch when he slides in makes you both shiver, his hips stuttering into a pace, both his groans and your heavy breaths filling the space.

Impulsively wrapping your legs around his waist makes him thrust deeper. The feeling makes you arch, a louder moan slipping past your lips and it makes him chuckle a bit before succumbing to his own pleasure with a moan.

"Tu te sens si bien ma chérie" He whispers, your foreheads pressed together more intimately.

"Fuck, you fill me up so well." You whimper, slightly tugging the hair at the nape of his neck.

The action makes him moan back, teeth gritted as he thrust into you faster, his free hand coming to circle your clit. It's almost too much, another orgasm close behind. You'd never felt so full, his dick hitting parts of you that didn't know about. Perfect, like he was meant for your cunt. Your walls flutter around him and his thrusts begin to get sloppy.

"Oh gods, y/n I can't. Please let me fill you up chérie. Please-" He's pussy drunk, but you can say the same about yourself when he keeps hitting that spot. You're both bound to burst.

"Cum for me Sanji, please baby I need you to." You purr, bitting his shoulder, kissing the area to soothe it.

He's got his face in the crook of your neck now, a strangled moan leaving his lips as his thrusts slow. He doesn't stop though, still trying to work one last orgasm out of you and succeeds.

Your body is already spent from when he ate you out but this, definitely put you over. You cling to him, labored breaths all you can hear. He doesn't leave your cunt yet, trying to stabilize first.

"If you were worried about getting caught, I think we were loud enough for the crew to hear so." He chuckles, still fatigued. You shake your head with a smile pressing kisses to his face.

He takes his time pulling out, cum spilling out of you when he does. Your ears don’t miss the slight choked back moan when he does. It's quiet but it's comfortable. He leaves for a moment, bring a towel back to clean you up with. There are plenty of kisses here and there, most likely a pre-apology for marking you up even more then before.

He works quickly, dressing you in one of his shirts, which proves to be too big on you but neither of you care, his heart fluttering at the sight of you in it.

....

"So, nipple piercings and a belly ring, huh sweetheart?"

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[makerofmadness]

Aight so. As promised (by that I mean: as the poll willed) here is: me rambling about design choices and stuff in my AU 'cus I dunno if people will ever ask me about any of this otherwise. (link to the post with all the AU designs)

Shadow Milk

His dress's diamond pattern was meant to kinda evoke stars in a dark night sky

His monocle is tinted yellow. Thought that would be a good sort-of parallel to PV's blue eye

Driftwood came up with the moon design on the bow

His hairstyle and other parts of his design were inspired by the silhouette of his pre-beast self

The bit of his hair that juts out is also somewhat of a moon

The choice for bows was kinda just because I thought it fit with his personality. Ostentatious.

Pure Vanilla

I already explained his flower after being asked

He's a pierrot <3

His face makeup is supposed to give him a subtle "crying" look. And yeah he's wearing face paint, you can still see his dough color on his hands.

Yeah his sleeves are huge. Driftwood was the real one who designed him just with my input on ideas just to be clear, but I do hope stuff like that makes him look "smaller" in more than one sense.

The black pupil shapes are meant to be like that one shape that's all over CRK you know the one it's like 'nilla's soul jam but with a fourth round part

His messy hair is a reference to his blueberry yogurt academy design

Mystic Flour

I was originally thinking her sword would just be generic because I imagine she doesn't really use it but driftwood gave it a cool design which is infinitely more based. Flour still does not really use it she's more a healer/commander than a fighter so it's more I guess symbolic is what I'd call it

The scar over her eye I imagine came from her first encounter with the dark cacao kingdom's wilderness

The dragons are actually in her necklace I imagine

Her design went through a long and arduous process because it turns out flour's sprite is just really hard to edit when you need to do anything with her arms lol

Her hair bun design was taken from another "redeemed flour" design driftwood made once. She said that the hair bun is meant to look like a dumpling bun

her and Cacao's soul jam shapes being mixed up was. Admittedly an error XD but hey it looks good-

Dark Cacao

The reason his eyes are all weird is because I thought the idea of him crying so much his eyecing ran permanently by the time the tears dried just felt like "video game lore" like it's something you'd read about in one of the split-second loading screens in the game or in his story bio. It just kinda came to me naturally, it felt right with the design- probably because it also resembles icicles.

His whole "bloom of apathy" thing is based on sugar blooming in chocolate. Have you ever eaten chocolate with sugar blooms before? The texture is all powdery and sad and it ends up tasting like disappointment (I am speaking from experience).

The clouds over his head are like the ones associated with Mystic Flour. Reference to the saying about having a dark/black cloud hanging over your head. (Expecting the worst to come/bad things to happen, having a pessimistic and/or negative mindset, etc.)

I call his sword the Ivory Blade. Idk if he'd call it anything in particular, to be honest. probably never cared to name it.

The white of his outfit isn't an even split as you can see with both sleeves; it tears up over his heart.

Originally he was gonna have two scarves and thank God driftwood vetoed that and gave him a cape instead because the second scarf would have not translated well into the sprite (I was going for something that would have referenced the black and white dragons but it would have looked silly in practice). She said the cape was meant to give a "snuffed out by apathy" feeling and I think that it fit way better overall so this is a Thank You Driftwood moment XD

That being said: his wings do take their color direction from the dragons so they are still referenced in the end. (Fun fact; they're nonfunctional, he can't fly with those)

Burning Spice

He doesn't have much on in terms of golden accessories because I wanted to emphasize him being more "modest"/not caring as much about gold

His parashu color choice was inspired by this one image driftwood sent me. I don't know where this comes from in the game exactly but the colors just felt appropriate for this:

His crown is made of cheese btw. It's cut kinda hastily like it was a last-minute decision...

He's mostly just in fettuccine wraps 'cus he spends so much time fighting and doesn't really care as much as he should for his physical well-being.

Uh the rest of his "apparel" is actually also meant to be based on specific cheeses which... well I was the one who took over on this edit and I'm not as experienced with sprite editing as driftwood so it probably didn't come across so well but uh I can point to pepperjack and liptauer. I forget what I was inspired by for the crown though other than MAYBE reaper cheddar? It may just be a non-spicy cheese with bits of pepper added in, otherwise

His parashu being double-bladed was literally for no other reason than "I thought it would look cool" I can be silly sometimes too okay-

Golden Cheese

Yeah I think the demon resemblance with the wings and her crown's horns go without saying. Her wings are also supposed to have a look like torn cloth.

She wears even more gold jewelry than she used to. The idea is that she tries to cover herself in more gold to make up for her loss of radiance.

Yes, those are in fact ✨Cheese Tights✨ (I imagine they used to not be torn but probably got scuffed like that after enough rounds of destruction that it wasn't worth getting them fixed up)

You can still see where the Virtue of Change originally went on her body :3 She plans to use that spot for a certain other light once she gets it back...

Yeah there's a massive crack in her face (we're kinda inconsistent about the design of it but tbh the way it looks doesn't really matter so much as what it represents). And yeah her eye is all glitched-out. You know what they say about eyes being the window to the soul? The day she finally cracked, it showed through more ways than one.

Eternal Sugar

Yes, those are sugarberries. And yes sugarberries are real things Driftwood was the one who found that out and made the choice to include them in the design X3

They don't have the demon wings anymore, but the tail is still present.

That is in fact the Hollyberry Kingdom's crown that the Soul Jam is in.

Their lyre's design was inspired by that one guild relic violin

Hollyberry

I went with the "tiger" theme because tigers are associated with Dionysus (Greek God of wine-making, festivities and madness) while also being associated with things like strength and courage which are fitting attributes for Hollyberry Cookie as she is pre-fall from grace. Plus, they're big cats, and cats are perfect for Lazy creatures :3 /silly

Her hair is meant to be more like frosting than icing, hence the fluffier (or furrier) look.

The markings on her face are inspired by face stripe patterns on tiger's faces, as in I looked at actual pictures of tigers and saw that some had face stripes that looked vaguely like smiley faces and I wanted to take advantage of that.

I will fully admit that I traced the ears from chili pepper cookie's tiger-themed costume from ovenbreak :'3

Originally I was gonna give her a jacket but I'm not as good at sprite editing as driftwood so I had to cut it. I feel like her ending up with a simpler design is better overall in the end. (Driftwood ended up doing the shield patterns/details, the hair and the tail though so thank her for that I couldn't do those things X3)

She isn't wearing gloves. Her hands are just covered in white fur. I originally kinda wanted it to be a bit ambiguous but I've realized in terms of actually writing her I kinda have to lean into one or the other in terms of descriptions so I went with the borderline-paws option.

Her tail is just a bunch of upside-down hearts. I thought it would be neat to like very vaguely give her an angel-devil look like sugar had but in a way subtler way to make them parallel, so the upside down heart tail thing and giving her a halo was kinda a means to do that. (The halo's made of berry juice btw! No you cannot slurp it)

Her dress having the huge heart over it is does speak true to herself. She still has a big heart.

Removing a lot of the sharper-looking leaves was figuratively "declawing" her but the ones left and then added to her shield are for a reason. The ones on the bell on her dress make it look vaguely heart-shaped while on her shield they resemble upside-down hearts like the light of sloth. Wouldn't be Hollyberry Cookie without a bunch of hidden and not-so-hidden hearts on her design <3

[thezombieprostitute]

Hummingbird - Part 5

Summary: You didn't want to break into someone's party but you were desperate to see the art at the gallery before it was gone. You're so busy trying to make sure no one sees you that you miss the ever present gaze of Steve Rogers who is wondering why you crashed his party.

Word Count: ~1500

A/N: Reader is AFAB. Only physical descriptors are that her hands are smaller than Steve's.

Warnings: Smut. All the smut. Oh dear god, just smut. No plot here, only smut.

Part 4 -- Part 6

Series Masterlist

You wake up as the credits roll. Somehow you and Steve ended up laying flat on the couch. You're on your back, head resting on his arm, and he's wrapped around you as much as he can. You tilt your head to look at him and you find he's awake. His eyes seem darker than you remember.

"Didn't want to wake you," he whispers. "I probably should've warned you that I'm a cuddler."

"A teddy bear, more like," you smile. "Coupled with the comfort and warmth of a weighted blanket." You start to turn in his arms and he hisses a bit as your body brushes against him. "Are you okay? Did I hurt you?"

You try to pull away but he holds you tight. "No, no," he assures. "You haven't hurt me. I'm just...a bit sensitive at the moment."

As your sleepiness fades you realize what he's talking about and you feel his hardness between your bodies. "Oh," your breath hitches.

"We don't have to do anything," Steve says. "It'll go away on its own if you're not--" His words turn into a moan as firmly rub your against his crotch.

"Do you have a condom?"

"Yeah," he groans. "In my wallet."

"Then let's take this to the bedroom?"

"After you, Hummingbird," he smiles, pupils blown with lust.

He lets you up and you lead him to your bedroom. He starts slowly, firmly, kissing along your neck as he undresses you. Part of you had expected a flurry of clothes and kissing but Steve was taking his time. Not out of hesitation, either.

His hands are sure in their exploration of your now naked form. His touches and kisses eliciting soft moans from you. One of his hands roams to your mound and you whimper.

"So wet for me already," he whispers into your ear.

"Only for you, Sir," you reply before you stop yourself.

Steve freezes for a moment before gently grabbing your chin and turning your face to look at him. "Be careful with that, "Sir" sweet Hummingbird," his voice is stern but that spurs you on.

"Why's that, Sir?"

"Because I won't be able to hold back," he growls, making you whimper as you rub your thighs together. He rubs his fingers along your folds, "but I get the feeling that's what you want."

"Yes, please," you whine. "Want you to take me, Sir."

"Traffic light system?"

"Green, go. Yellow, pause. Red, stop."

"So perfect for me," he groans into your ear as his fingers play with your clit. Your hips start grinding against him and he stops. He chuckles at your whine, "lay down on your back, Hummingbird."

You immediately obey and lay on your bed with legs open, looking up at him, pleadingly. His eyes hungrily take in your naked form, watching your breasts rise and fall with each breath.

He kneels on the bed in between your legs and lowers himself over you, keeping his weight on his arms. His kisses are deep and commanding. You try to arch your body into his but he lets some of his weight onto you, pinning you to the bed. You start to whine in protest but he moves his, still clothed, crotch against your bud and you end up moaning instead.

He moves his kisses lower until he reaches your chest and starts lavishing one of your nipples with his tongue. Again you try to move, looking for some friction, and again he pins you in such a way that you can't move.

"Please, Sir," you whimper. "Please. Need more."

He gently bites your nipple, eliciting another long moan from you. He moves to the other nipple and to give it the same treatment.

"Please, Sir! Please, I need more!"

He gives you a stern look, "you don't need more than I'm giving. You want more. I would never deny you anything you need, Hummingbird." He goes back to your breasts and you feel the frustration building.

"Please, Sir, please I want more," you cry out. "I want you to let me cum, Sir, please!"

He lifts himself off of you, smug smile on his face. "You learn fast," he praises. "For that, you don't have to ask my permission to cum."

He brings his hand to your pussy, wrist rubbing against your clit as he pushes two fingers inside of you. He expertly plays with you, going faster and faster until you cum so hard you see stars. He keeps going, working you through your orgasm. You can barely hear his guttural, "good girl. So beautiful," but they add to your pleasure and you squeeze his fingers even tighter.

“Oh,” he smirks, “does my girl like to be praised?”

“Y-yes, S-sir,” you stammer, still a little dazed from your orgasm. You whine as he removes his fingers from sopping wet cunt but are silenced as he puts them into your mouth. You eagerly lick his fingers, reveling in the taste of yourself. 

“Fuck,” he moans. “I wanted to take my time but I don’t think I can wait any longer.” He removes his shirt and you’re in awe at how muscly he is. “You like,” he asks. You can only nod in response. He leans in for a kiss, his chest hair rubbing against your nipples, “it’s all yours, Hummingbird.” You try to wrap your arms around him but he pulls away too quickly. “Play with yourself while I get the condom on,” he orders as he removes the rest of his clothes. 

You’re quick to oblige but find yourself frustrated. Your fingers usually do the job but they’re nothing in comparison to his. His much bigger hands, backed by skill and muscle, seem to have already ruined you. But you keep playing as he undresses, not wanting to disobey. You only pause for a second when you get a sight of how big his erection is. Your jaw drops a little and you fight the urge to crawl over to him for a taste. 

He sees your pause and asks, “nervous?”

“No, Sir,” you shake your head and stare into his eyes. “I’m eager.”

“Oh, Hummingbird,” he coos, “you really are meant for me.”

“Yes, Sir. So please take me,” your words are soft but your tone makes it an order and Steve is happy to obey.

He moves your hands away from your pussy and licks them as kneels between your legs. He pins your hands above your head and kisses along your neck as he lines himself up with your entrance. He starts pushing into you and you drop your head back and moan loudly with pleasure. You’ve never been stretched so much before and you’re already enjoying the sensation. He keeps pushing until he’s fully sheathed inside of you and you’re keening from how good it feels. You try rolling your hips or wrapping your legs around him but he’s angled himself so that you can’t move so easily. 

You start whimpering and he asks, “color?”

“Green, Sir,” you’re quick to confirm. “Just ne–want you to move. Feels so good already.”

“You want me to move? Like this?” he rolls his hips and moan appreciatively. “Or like this?” He pulls out about halfway and slams into your pussy making you cry out with pleasure. “Mmmm. I think we have an answer.” He adjusts himself, releasing your hands, before plowing into you at a harsh pace. You start chanting “yes” as you feel your next orgasm building. “Hummingbird likes it rough, huh?”

“Only with you, Sir!”

“That’s right, Hummingbird,” he grunts. “You’re mine. I’m the only one who makes you feel this good.” He starts playing with your bud and your eyes roll back as he works you through another orgasm. “So fucking beautiful,” he sighs. His fingers stay on your clit while his eyes watch you writhe in pleasure. 

“Thank you, Sir! Thank you for making me feel so good!” Your voice gets louder as you speak until you’re keening as you cum again on his cock. 

His thrusts increase in intensity and you hear him grumble, “almost. So close. So fucking tight. Gonna give you everything.” He cums with a hoarse roar and he slows.

You wrap your arms around him and gently kiss him wherever you can. He’s slow to recover but your touch, your kisses, help him. He gently pulls out of you and you wince at the empty feeling. He throws away the condom and gets in the bed to cuddle with you. He pulls you on top of him, your head resting on his chest. 

You nuzzle his chest hair and whisper, “thank you, Steve. I really needed that.”

He chuckles, “me too, Hummingbird. Me too.”

“It wasn’t the dessert I had in mind, but it was definitely sweet and enjoyable. When I can walk again, we should try the dessert I had made for tonight.”

He laughs at that. A hearty, deep laugh that leaves him feeling confident in his choosing you as his future queen.

Part 4 -- Part 6

Series Masterlist

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