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@emmy420 part 2 of your request for Katsuki! :)

Part 1 Masterlist <3

Katsuki boyfriend scenarios, Fem!Reader (SFW and NSFW)

-Part 2

You dye your hair

You sit on your bed watching TV and letting the bleach in your hair develop, as you were planning on going blonde again to match Katsuki.

Sure, it was a little impulsive, but you just wanted to see his reaction.

Your thoughts are interrupted by the sound of your phone ringing as it sits next to you on your bed. The phone buzzes as katsukis face pops up on screen, a photo of him that you had taken while his guard was down. You had refused to delete it when you realised how cute it was, and he refused to forgive you for days after that, fake pouting and teasing you until your begged him for his forgiveness.

You can feel the buzzing on your legs as the vibrations travel through the mattress, and you beam at the thought of talking to your boyfriend right now.

You grin as you accept the call in seconds, greeting him with a purr as he checks in on you. He hasn't seen you all day, and you can tell that he misses you.

"Hey baby~ I'm just dying my hair right now, what about you, what have you been doing today?"

He completely ignores your question in favour of marching straight towards your dorm. He was going to visit later anyway, but now he wasn't going to bother dropping his bags back at his room. He wanted to see this.

"You're what now? I'm coming over, because I need to see this. You're such a dumbass. If it's bright orange or some shit like that I'm buzzcutting your head. You're going bald."

He has a mean smile on his lips and you can tell, but it only makes you laugh louder as he opens your door, his phone in his hand and the call still active.

He walks in to see you with fresh bleach in your hair, the previously darker colour lifting out and going yellowish.

"... Ta da?"

"You're such a dumbass... Are you gonna leave it like that after? Or are you gonna go another colour?"

He smiles softly as he looks straight at you, thinking about how nice you would look as a blonde.

"I'm gonna tone it, I wanted us to match."

He's so weak for you. He wears that wobbly little smile as you practically knock his feet from under him with your answer, and he simply plants himself down by your side, sitting and watching your movie with you as he tries not to show how much that affected him.

"'Kay. I'm helping."

He finds out you have no father

The two of you were talking about your plans for the summer when it came up in conversation. It's not exactly something you avoid talking about in general, but it's also something you never actively wanted to discuss either.

"I'm gonna be at you house a lot so... hope your parents don't mind. If they do, I don't care."

He was being stubborn as always, and you sweatdrop as you let him know that your mom's going to be away for a friend's hen-do for about a week, and that she's already given you permission to have friends over.

"What about your dad?"

"What dad, lmao?"

He simply looks at you for a second, caught off guard by your cursed joke and the new information that's been presented to him. So, it's just you and your mom then, huh.

He always wondered why he only ever saw your mom around the house and no father. It makes sense that there's none to be found.

"That-... Huh..."

He's genuinely speechless by the nonchalant way you said it, nodding his head and losing his stubborn, tough exterior. Where did your dad go, anyway?

He thinks you must be a mind reader because as soon as he processes that thought you're already answering like he voiced it.

"He just left when I was kid. We still don't have milk to this day"

He chokes on his laugh. Another joke?

"It's okay, you can laugh. It's funny-"

You're laughing at your own joke and your boyfriend's hesitance to laugh himself, walking along the pathway to your house and giggling still, even as you put the keys in your door.

"So that's why when you hold my hand, you just hold my pinkie, huh? Cute"

Okay, now it's your turn to flush pink and go quiet, retaining your embarrassed smile and pretending to be mad, though Katsuki can see straight through your act like glass.

"S-shut up"...

He sees you getting catcalled

Katsuki likes to take you on walks very often. He says it keeps you both healthy and that he refuses to have a lazy girlfriend. In reality, he just likes to feed the ducks with you. It's his favourite pastime.

The two of you are just chatting, your boyfriend finally relaxing after a long and stressful day, and finally feeling like he can properly be your boyfriend and take you out.

"Sorry I've been busy lately."

"Don't apologise, I think it's amazing that you're putting everything into your dream."

You smile up at him, squeezing his hand in yours and properly taking in his appearance as you walk by the river, the water reflecting the beautiful orange and pink sunset.

He's wearing his favourite black tank top that he won't let you steal from him, and a loose pair of cargo pants that he had changed into after training, his firm chest and arm muscle teasing you with their appearance. He looks so good, and you can't take your eyes off of him.

All goes well, and your date is peaceful as you and Katsuki sit at your favourite bench, until you hear the voice of a man catcalling somebody. At first you don't realise he's talking to you, but when you do, your heart sinks.

"What's up, baby? You lookin' for some dick?! I wanna drink the milk outta your tiddies!"

What the fuck?

It's just a shitty feeling. It feels predatory, and unsafe. It's embarrassing, and uncomfortable and every time you hear that little whistle, and the vulger words coming out of a man's mouth, you wish you could say something back, but every time, you freeze.

How else could you react to something like that? These men are dangerous and unpredictable, and you're not willing to put yourself in danger for your pride, because you can't back it up with strength like Katsuki.

Speaking of Katsuki, he can feel the way that you freeze. How your breathing fastens and you shift closer to him. He can practically feel the discomfort radiating from you in waves. And he's livid.

You bring your hands up to cover your chest, even if it's already covered with a loose, oversized shirt that you had stolen from your boyfriend, and you avert your gaze down to the floor in shame, your cheeks red as tears gather in your eyes.

Katsuki hates to see you cry. He really, really fucking hates it.

"What the fuck did you just say?... Don't you wanna say that shit to me? Say it again, I fucking dare you. You're a fucking disgusting pig- You're a grown-ass man, and you're saying that shit to girls? Fucking pitiful. Grow the fuck up."

By now your boyfriend has left your side in favour of grabbing this balding, fourty-something year old man by the throat, letting off little explosions from his fingertips and scorching the guys neck.

When he pulls away, he wipes his hand on his sweats, disgusted to have touched such a piece of shit, and he leaves the guy on the floor, a little dark spot on his pants where he peed a little from that frankly terrifying confrontation with the blonde.

You're not even remotely upset with him for threatening a civilian, you're just thankful that he stood up for you, feeling so relieved that you had him there with you.

You spend the rest of the night in his arms, shedding a couple of tears because of how objectified you felt, while he cuddles you in bed and tells you how smart you are, and how proud he is of you.

You couldn't ask for a better man.

You watch a horror movie with him

Your eyebrows raise in interest as you watch a murder documentary, listening intently while your boyfriend looks at you like you've grown a second head.

It's dark in the room and the curtains are drawn, the only light coming from the TV in front of you while you share a bag of popcorn with him.

The last in the documentary had murdered a fair few of her husbands with rat poison or something like that, and had worked her way to becoming rich from the money of her victims.

"You... aren't taking notes, are you?..."

He's only half joking, a little perturbed by your morbid interest in something so grim, but you only laugh in response, smooching his cheek affectionately and cuddling into his side.

"I hope that answers your question~"

"Remarkably enough, no, it doesn't."

You hold back another boisterous laugh, placing your hand on his chest as he cuddles closer into you. It's too late now, he suggested this because he was being a cheeky motherfucker and wanted to see you all cute and scared. The plan went sideways, and then back on itself and then sideways again. Oh well, he can't back out now, he's a man of pride, damnit.

Of course, you notice the way holds onto your waist a little tighter, and you hear the little shocked expletives muttered under his breath when an especially gory detail comes up.

Lord, save him.

Sleeping that night is a hard task for him, and he clings to you like a koala even as you sleep like a baby, so when you wake up the next morning and make breakfast for a crusty Katsuki with a serious case of bedhead and panda eyes, you can't help but coo at him as you attempt not to burst out laughing.

He gets accidentally turned on

Shit.

He was sitting at his desk like usual, staring out the window while waiting for you to arrive, but he must've been too wrapped up in his own thoughts because when you entered the room, he didn't even realise.

The room is bright and well lit in the early morning and it's just you and a couple of other people, since you're about ten minutes early, and everyone's chatting and distracted except for him.

You smile and sit on his desk, not quite startling him, but catching him by surprise as he looks forward and is met with the sight of your thighs right in front of his face.

They look so soft and thick... He bets they'd make a great pair of earmuffs.

When you shimmy a little on his desk, he watches them move and sees a pair of light pink panties under your skirt, which had ridden up from all of your movement.

"... Katsuki?-"

His head snaps up to meet your eyes with his own, his face red.

"You look a little... constipated... Are you okay?"

He only grunts in reply, turning his head away quickly and crossing his legs to hide the awkward boner he's sprouted in class. Shit. You're so fucking hot, he can't take it anymore.

His breathing quickens as he tries every trick in the book to calm himself down, making you very aware of what you've done.

"Aw... Can't contain yourself, Katsuki?"

You smirk at him, not bothering to pull your skirt down because apparently you've decided to be a menace this morning.

"Fuck you."

He walks in on you masturbating

You were just taking some time to yourself to do some self-service. Katsuki's been gone the entire day to get some extra training done, meanwhile you lay in his dorm room, watching TV and doing some self care while you wait for the time to pass.

The arousal stirs in your belly as you get a message from your favourite blonde.

'Can't fucking wait to see you tonight.'

You know he probably didn't mean for that message to be as sexual as it was, but you can't help but feel needy at the thought of him getting back just to eat you out and fuck you senseless.

It drives you absolutely mad, and the imagery of what Katsuki probably looks like right now, sweating and panting as his muscles swell from exertion, had you reeling and warmth pooling between your thighs.

You just feel so empty, and you're filled with desire as you keep letting your thoughts wander to him.

It certainly helps that you feel pretty right now, so you feel no shame or embarrassment. Your hair is fresh from the shower you took earlier and your skin is clear after your intense routine.

You feel well preened and as you let your hand trail down your belly, past the band of your (Katsuki's) sweats and into your panties, feeling the damp fabric cling to your throbbing cunt.

The curtains are drawn and it's dark in the room, just the way you like it, and your form is hidden beneath the duvet on your boyfriend's bed, covered with the sheets the two of you had picked out together, since he knew you would be spending a lot of time in his room. He wanted you to have a say in the decoration so that you felt more at home there.

The memory only has you hotter for him. He's an amazing man, and the best aprtner you could answer, and you find yourself wanting to give him all of you just to make him feel good. You would do anything for him, you were so completely in love.

Your finger slowly starts to massage your clit, rubbing in little circles and dipping down to gather slick from your folds, your back arching slightly as you lift up a leg, writhing from the much needed pressure on your aching clit.

However, the second you hear the door click, you freeze. It's already too late, and Katsuki is cut off mid sentence when he finally sees you, taking in your flushed face, your hair that's strewn across his pillows, and the hand that's dipped beneath the covers on his bed. On his bed.

God, as if this isn't driving him crazy enough, there's something about you doing this in his bed, dressed in his clothes, that has him fucking feral.

He can see your breasts through the thin fabric of his white tank top, and the colour of your areola, as well as some side-boob that immediately has him at full mast in his loose pants.

He might actually die.

He grins at you evilly, making your blood run cold as you flush just as red as the blood flowing through your veins, while you scooch further away and panic.

"I- it's not what it looks like!-"

When has that line ever worked, you chastise yourself.

"Oh? 'Sure looks like you're fucking yourself to me."

Well, now what are you supposed to say to that?

"And in my bed? Did you miss me that much?~"

You feel another wave of slick soak your underwear and your fingers as your legs remain pressed closed, your thighs squeezing together beneath his sheets.

You're literally gushing for him.

So when he joins you on the bed slowly, waiting for any amount of hesitance from you and recieving only an eager whine in response, he's about ready to literally engulf you. He wants to kiss and lick and bite every bit of skin he can get his hands on.

He knows you like to keep warm, and that you can get a little shy at times, so instead of tearing the covers from you like an animal, like he wants to, he exercises some self restraint, and joins you under the covers in the low light of the room, your movie long forgotten.

He slides his hand down your belly, resting his body on top of yours and trapping you beneath the wall of muscle that is his chest, laying gentle kisses and nips to your neck that has you shivering and your breath hitching.

It looks like he was right, and he's very amused as his suspicions are proven correct, his fingers ghosting over soaked panties and slick fingers that rest between closed thighs.

"I can't help it- you're just- ugh! You're so-"

You don't even have the words to describe him as you stare at his god-like figure above you, but you communicate it well enough with the unintelligible whines you breathe out into his neck.

Great, now his ego is boosted.

"You're so wet for me, you're driving me fuckin' crazy."

His kinks, and the body part he's obsessed with

Katsuki's an absolute slut for biting. He always wants to leave marks on your body as evidence that he was there, and that partly feeds into his breeding kink, because he specifically likes to bit you, hard, on the neck while filling you up with his cum.

You can bet he buys the extra thin feel comdoms because he needs to feel the way your walls clench and quiver around him, but he won't tell you that unless you're in the heat of the moment, when he mutters, and literally growls into your ear how much he just loves to feel your insides and fill you up.

Your sure he has a specific kink for oral as well, because you would never have thought he'd be so needy to have you sit on his face literally every other day.

At first you were a little shy to do it, because what if you taste bad, or what if he doesn't like your smell? It's not like you can control it... So you were hesitant. He had bared with the skittishness the first time, because he loves you, but the second time, he had to push your hips away and reprimand you.

You were mortified that he was pushing you away, until he spoke, and then you were just stunned.

"Look, I bared with it the first time because I'm nice like that, but stop crouching. If you don't actually plant that pussy right on my face until I suffocate and die, I don't think I will ever actually forgive you, or myself. Now Sit. On. My. Face. Sit."

You almost choke on your breath, but he believes that it was worth it, because he got what he wanted, which was to be smothered by your pussy lips.

You could see his eyes roll to the back of his head from below your skirt as he tongue fucked you, thrusting his hips into the air. That first time he got to properly eat you out, he came in his pants. He wasn't even ashamed or embarrassed, not that you wanted or expected him to be, but he was nonchalant about it.

"What did you expect?"

The body part you think he's the most obsessed with, though, is your hips. And you're right on the money. He loves to squeeze them, and hold them, and kiss them.

Anytime you both walk in public, he's either holding your hand, or he's got an arm around your waist and his hand on your hip.

The blonde is a slut for your hips, and loves to bite and suck on them, and and trace a thumb over the bone that naturally juts out no matter how much weight you lose or put on. And when you shake your hips for him like a bellydancer, he almost foams at the mouth. He's entranced by you, and quite literally, in the words of our lord and saviour Doja Cat herself, worships your hips and waist.

The kink that took him the longest time to admit to though, was his daddy kink. He doesn't know why, but hearing your voice drop a tone as you called him daddy just to tease him made him weak.

He had the air knocked out of his lungs for a few seconds there, but since he thought you might not actually take so kindly to this new discovery of his, he kept quiet. He has no idea how you found out, but you did, and Katsuki received no mercy from your teasing until he broke and finally came clean about it, leading to one of the best nights he's ever had, and a night he frequently thinks back on when you're not with him and he has to let off some steam.

You get caught making out

Katsuki's tongue invades your mouth as you sit on his lap, grinding down against the tent in his pants as he holds your hips, large hands massaging and gripping at your love handles. He loves how wide your hips are, and the squishiness that comes with it.

He was just sitting at his desk, minding his own business when you basically attacked him out of nowhere, his lips parting in that confused little pout he makes sometimes, his eyebrows furrowing.

God, that expression has you putty in his hands without fault, and you're immediately slotting your hips over his as you lock lips with him, your piercing bar running along his own tongue and making the great Katsuki Bakugou shiver.

It's only just getting to the good part when his hands slide down to your ass and then back up again, only to part ways again soon after. He slides his right hand over your ribs, teasing you with the lightest touch of his fingers before grabbing your breast under your bra and kneading it, while his left hand slides down, reaching just past the waistband of your pants.

Sadly, the two of you are interrupted by Denki, and Katsuki's never hated the little cockblocker more than he does now.

"Hey Katsuki- Oh my god I'm- fuck! sorry! bye!"

"..."

"I'm gonna fucking castrate you, you little sparkplug!"

Denki slams the door on his way out, scared out of his wits and probably traumatised.

"At least we're not naked?..."

He does have to agree with you on that one.

And with that, his boner is gone, and he sighs quietly before leaning forward to bury his face into your clothed breasts, mourning the loss of the moment ™️ and simply wrapping his arms around you to keep his nerves down.

JANDNFBBF PLSLSL I've already finished writing day 6 as well 😭😭 I'm tryna get so much writing done but I'm super having fun with it nanxjsnbdnffkfnd thank you for reblogging shawdy! <3

⠀⠀ 𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

Hello! Im Xion, and welcome to my tumblr!

Woop woop!

▹ -𝓡𝓾𝓵𝓮𝓼 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓡𝓮𝓰𝓾𝓵𝓪𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓶𝓼-

♡︎These are the rules and suggestions for my blog to make requesting easier for the both of us :)

▹ -𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓻𝓪𝒸𝓉ℯ𝓻𝓼 𝓘 𝓦𝓻𝓲𝓽𝓮 𝓕𝓸𝓻-

♡︎These are the characters and animes I will write for as well as extra info about my account and etc... <3

▹ -𝑀𝐴𝑆𝑇𝐸𝑅𝐿𝐼𝑆𝑇𝑆-

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▹ -𝐾𝐼𝑁𝐾𝑇𝑂𝐵𝐸𝑅 2022 𝐸𝑉𝐸𝑁𝑇!-

♡︎Kinktober event starting on the 1st of October 2022! Days 1-24 are focused on the most popular characters on my page (Bakugou Katsuki, Todoroki Shouto, Aizawa Shouta, and Kirishima Eijirou). Days 24-31 are my favourite wildcard characters from various animes. The event-specific tag for this is '#notyourfuckingkacchan kinktober!' Please reblog this to spread the word!

Whew babe, swear I don’t even fw doffy like that but 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨

♥︎. — doflamingo donquixote x reader

♥︎. — no matter how far away you run, bad habits always seem to catch up to you. doflamingo was one of those bad habits you tried to run away from. in the end, you never stood a chance.

♥︎. includes. — angst, black!reader, female!reader, slavery, violence, toxic relationship, infidelity, dubcon, fingering, rough sex, choking, mild bondage, biting, humiliation, degradation, mind break.

♥︎. tags. — @dejwrites

♥︎. Inspiration. — valentino by years and years ft. mnek // jokes on you by charlotte lawrence

Doflamingo is a bad man.

There was no rebuttal or argument to that statement. Even his closest members could attest to these words. He was feared throughout the land of Dressrosa and partook in unforgivable acts, killing even his parents and the brother who he loved.

One of his other notable actions was his interest in woman. More specifically, a certain woman. It wasn’t uncommon for men like him to abuse their power and use women like objects. From kidnapping to just buying a female slave, they raped and killed women as they saw fit. You were not an exception.

When Doflamingo first met you, your previous master was selling you after growing fearful of you. He wouldn’t explain why and was quick to offer you to doflamingo for a low price. It was suspicious to say the least. One wouldn’t sell a slave for such a low price and the look of fear that covered the man’s face was evident. That could’ve been chalked up to not wanting to anger him, but a noble like him was to stuck up to show fear like he did.

If you were a dangerous and volatile person then he could’ve easily killed you, no matter how strong someone is. They could easily become a slave with the right restraints and training. As soon as the transaction was completed, the noble sent one last fearful glare towards your battered form before making a quick getaway. Doflamingo narrowed his eyes behind his rose-tinted glasses and stood for a moment staring at the back of the far gone noble. His last words replaying in his head.

“Be careful with her, she’s fucking crazy”.

Initially, he planned for you to work as a palace worker, maybe even as an test subject for his artificial devil fruits if it came to it. However, you were to intriguing for him to just leave your side that quickly. Throughout the whole exchange you just stood there with a bored and blank expression, as if you didn’t care that you were being sold like a object. While it was common for slave to lose their sense of self in the slave life, they still showed some sort emotion to being sold from noble to noble. Whether is be sadness from being separated or fear of whether their new master will be worst than the last. Doflamingo had a knack for sensing the negative emotions in people.

When you both returned to the palace, he ordered the other female slaves to clean you up and make you presentable. He hadn’t seen you for most of the rest of the day as he had other stuff to attend to. He was confused on why it was taking so long for the maid to wash you up.

It was the end of the day and he was retiring to his room to rest for the night when he saw you again. The maid had misunderstood his intentions and thought you were just another sex slave he had bought. They had cleaned and groomed you to udder perfection, just the way they knew he liked it. You sat on his plush bed with a pink lace lingerie set, your face adorning light makeup that made your face look similar to that of a doll.

While at first Doflamingo had no intention of using you for sex, now that all the grime and dirt was washed away and the maids did their work. You looked absolutely stunning, and there was no way he was going to pass on opportunity to bed you.

As he was using you as his personal fuck toy, your personality did a complete 180 as your black and expressionless face turned into pleasure and lustful. You were very vocal about how he was making you feel and he was sure the whole hallway could hear your pleas and moans. He was surprised at the sudden turn of character but it wasn’t one he didn’t welcome.

The way your cunt felt around his cock was a sensation he hadn’t felt before in any other of his slaves. It felt like you were sucking him in every time he pulled out, and it was addicting. What really made him hooked was when after he was done with you, having spent all his energy into fucking you into the mattress. You still had the audacity to climb on top of his spent form and fuck yourself on his sore cock.

At the time, he was to out of it to see that crazy look in your eyes. Despite being tired, he did not disappoint in thrusting into you with his remaining strength, causing you to let out a small gasp and your back to arch. He was slightly annoyed you wanted to continue without his permission, but he the urge to satisfy your needs. The sheer tightness of his grip on your waist was sure to leave bruises in the morning but he was the last person to care. The fast and rough pace of his thrust were dumbifying as the pleasure left your mouth open in silent screams and moans. The sinful sounds of skin slapping echoed through the room as endured his rough pace and cried out in euphoria when he ripped out orgasm after orgasm out of you.

Before you were taken in by Doflamingo, you didn't care much for sex. You accepted your fate as your previous master’s sex toy but you never enjoyed it or was interested. But when Doflamingo came along and showed you just what a real orgasm felt like, you were instantly hooked on sex. You didn’t care what he did with you as long as he continued to satisfy your new addiction.

It was then that your fate was decided as his personal and favorite sex toy. It was common to see you walking around the castle with nothing but a barely covering bikini top and a silk skirt with separate panels suspended from a metal belt. It would be easier to list what it was covering than what it was revealing. This was so that whenever Doflamingo had the urge to fuck you, that all your parts were easily accessible. And it didn’t matter when or where he had the urge, he could be in the middle of a meeting and you would be in full view to everyone as you sucked his cock, and somehow, you always looked pretty while doing it. His “family” wouldn’t dare say anything about it, they would just continue with the meeting as if everything was normal. Because in Doflamingo’s eyes, it was.

This dynamic continued for years, with Doflamingo ruling over Dressrosa and you sitting right at his feet like a lap dog, his hand running through and resting on your head. Sometimes he would even let you sit on his lap, but that was only when he wanted something more than you sitting there. There would be citizens of the island begging for their request to be fulfilled or someone coming to challenge his authority. And there you were, bouncing prettily on his cock, cheeks flushed and eyes rolled back as you try to reach your high, uncaring of being watched or possibly being in the way.

On occasion, he would put in a slight piece of effort of thrusting into you, he liked to hear your surprised moan and your hands gripping his thighs to center yourself. He also had a habit of pulling your hair, rather roughly at that as it forced you to strain your neck. When he did this you could see the people behind you, watching your shameful actions with uncomfortable and shifty expressions. Instead of it embarrassing you, it only served to further excite you and motivate you to reach your next high.

Against your better judgment, it was safe to say that you were actually falling in love with Doflamingo. Perhaps it was a severe case of Stockholm Syndrome but you couldn’t exactly deny to fluttering in your chest whenever Doflamingo came to seek you out when you were doing other tasks. He made you feel special when he made you exclusively his unlike his other sex slaves, who were free to be used by the other family members. When he had to travel to other islands he would always bring you back something whether it be jewelry, lingerie he wanted you to wear, or new clothes. The thing you treasured the most though was a custom collar that Doflamingo had gotten for you. It was pink with two silver D’s connected at the front. You couldn’t have been more prouder to show it off and you wore it with pride.

From what Doflamingo can remember, everything started going downhill when he allowed you to go outside and to the city. He knew you were obedient and was obsessed with him as he was with you so he had no qualms about letting you wander outside. And even you were excited, no matter how much you loved Doflamingo, you missed having the sun in your face and watching the different life of the townspeople.

Of course you were always accompanied by a family member, he couldn’t put that much trust in you, but you were fine with it as long as you were able to go out. The first few outings were fine, when out you would dress more modestly than at the castle but still wore the collar to show people who you belonged to. At the end, you would always tell him about the sights you saw and new foods you tried. He couldn’t lie and say that seeing you so happy over something (that’s not his dick) made a weird feeling of his own in his chest.

However, after a few short months of this Doflamingo noticed a change in your behavior. You became distant and more focused on fulfilling his needs than yours just to get away quicker. You weren’t as opening about your feelings as before, you didn’t tell him about your outings as much. He sometimes noticed your longing gaze when you thought he wasn’t looking. When he asked the family member attending to you, they reported that you would spend more time in jewelry shops looking in the ring section, or you would stare at couples in the streets, and that you would stop and stare through a wedding shop window when there was a wedding dress displayed.

Doflamingo had frowned at this information as he slowly started to piece the puzzle together. He wasn’t dumb to what you were obviously going through and he wasn’t having it. You were nothing more than his slave, he held no real feelings towards you. It was idiotic of you to catch feelings for him and he wasn’t going to let you continue on with this idea.

He didn’t confront you, instead he decided to pull away, to entertain his other toys that he had been neglecting. It started out small, like not calling for you at the usual times or dismissing you quicker than normal. You thought he was just busy, that he would surely go back to smothering you when he was finished. But then it got worse. He would go a whole day without calling for you and when you tried to initiate something yourself, he would push you away or glare at you. He never did that before.

You was scared to see the truth, so you kept on hurting. You noticed when things started to get bad. You was so fixated on everything they fed to you in the beginning, that you ignored everything happening in the present. The lying, the sleeping around, and the manipulative tactics. You realized it all, but because you wanted so much more for the two of you. You pretended like it didn't affect you when it really broke you.

Your worst fears were coming true as you could only sit and watch as your beloved master was apparently losing interest in you.

The final straw was when you caught him fucking another woman in the same personal bedroom that he had gifted to you. It wasn’t even some lowly slave like you either, it was the former princess of Dressrosa. Watching the man you had feelings for ravage another woman, that was far better than you in every way, was heartbreaking. You could tell that she didn’t even like it, that she was forced into this position yet Doflamingo looked like he was enjoying it. Did you mean so little to him that you were so easily replaced by a woman who didn’t even want him?

With all this turmoil and heartache, you couldn’t handle being by his side any longer. Not only because of the fact he didn’t care for you anymore but because you were afraid of what his indifference could mean for your future. You saw what his experiments turn out like, you didn’t want to end up like them. It was settled, you would run away from the palace and your shackles.

One thing you've learned as you grew older, is that no one is irreplaceable. Especially not someone who has been horrible to you. once you realized your worth, you saw how much more you deserved. if that means cutting ties with someone you once loved, then that's what you had to do.

Unlike most slaves, you didn’t need a hardcore plan to escape. Doflamingo’s first mistake was removing your bomb collar to put on your collar, you also knew all the schedules of every family member and worker inside the palace, and most importantly, knew which ship rides sailed off or came in. All thanks to sitting in meetings and pretending to be a mindless whore. You put your plans in motion the next night, it wasn’t hard to fake your usual bimbo nature and garner no suspicion.

It was surprisingly easy to sneak out in the dead of night during one of the guards shift rotations. You were able to use some of the money you had to pay for a ticket to board a cargo ship. You were careful to hide your slave mark that adorned most of your back with a dress and jacket. For once, you were grateful for Doflamingo being so possessive of you and hiding you away most of the time as the captain of the ship didn’t recognize your face. You acted like a desperate (but not to desperate or else it would be suspicious) woman who needed to catch the next ship over to a far away island to close a business deal. Acting like a separate branch of Doflamingo’s delegate. The captain was quick to let you ride the ship, not wanting to inadvertently anger Doflamingo himself.

As you sat on the rocking ship, listening to the waves hit the wood and the creaking of the floorboards as the workers busted their asses. To you, it was foreign and new, it was scary yet exciting at the same time. The realization that you had escaped from under Doflamingo’s thumb without much hassle was exhilarating. There was still a part of you that was on high alert and fearful, waiting for some type of enemy fire that belonged to Doflamingo. Fearful that he had realized you escaped and was coming after you, coming to take you back, coming to kill you.

But as the night progresses and the sun begins to rise, you let out a breathe that you had been holding in. The ship was far out of Dressrosa territory now and to far for him to catch up anytime soon. As soon as the cargo ship landed on its first island, you exited the ship and bid the captain farewell. From then on you took ship to boat until you were as far away from him as possible, and for the first time in your life, you were free.

When Doflamingo had noticed your disappearance, it was midday and the usual time you would come seek him out. He hadn’t been all to worried at first when you didn’t arrive since you did walk in on him, he knew how emotional you could get sometimes. However; after sometime he decided to find you out himself, after all, even if his plan was to crush your feelings you were still his favorite sex toy and he couldn’t help but crave the warm, gummy walls of your cunt and the way your body molded and shifts in his hands, or the way your face contorted with pleasure when he hit that perfect spot.

He searched the walls for your short form and asked the passing people if they had seen you. They all had shaken their heads and say they hadn’t seen you since last night. After search most of the castle he went to your room, already in a bad mood for having to search for you. When he got to your room he busted open your door with clear intent to let you have it, but he froze when he was greeted with a empty bedroom. His heart began to race as the possibility of you running away was clear. He went into the room to look for signs of an escape but none of your stuff had been taken. When he was about to leave and do a deeper search of the castle something caught his eye from the bed.

He went closer to the bed and his stomach dropped and his anger rose. There on the bed laid the collar he had gotten you, nearly folded and beside it laid a note saying one simple word.

“Bye”

The castle erupted in chaos after that, members searching the entire castle for you, ships deployed to catch any ship that had departed from the island last night. Even with all this, a part of Doflamingo knew you were gone but he didn’t care. You were his woman and he was getting you back no matter what, even if he has to travel across the world for you.

It’s been five years since you escaped and the only way you could describe it was, freeing. You were born into slavery, a product of rape from your mother’s master so you never knew what it felt like to be free. At first it was scary, always looking over your shoulder for danger, being suspicious of anyone who looked at you for to long or funny. But as time moved by with no incident, you slowly grew comfortable with your life.

You had traveled to a rather populated island, so that if someone did come looking for you it would take them quite awhile, giving you enough time to get away. The hiding of your slave mark was a difficult task, covering it with a large amount of waterproof makeup. Overall, you could proudly say that you had escaped slavery.

Your greatest achievement though was getting a husband. A man who consistently pursued and loved you. At first you tried to turn him down, believing that you didn’t deserve his love but he was persistent and eventually got you with his love. Making you a housewife and taking over the role of moneymaker; in the beginning, it disturbed you at first because it was almost like slavery all over again except disguised as him taking care of you. But over time you grew content with your life, happy even, with the peaceful living.

In his eyes, you had never experienced a fall from grace. You had always been the pretty little smart, sweet, happy-go-lucky, and easy on the eyes woman. He was convinced you were an angel right here on earth. To your dear husband, there was nothing wrong that you could ever do. Any time you broke one of his loosely defined rules like “no revealing clothes,” all it took was batting your eyelashes and a noncommittal apology before you were back in his good graces. In his eyes, you were the perfect housewife. It didn’t matter to either of you that you were spoiled rotten.

As long as you continued to run around in your short sundresses or look at him with those puppy-dog eyes as you ask him to fuck your pretty cunt before heading off to work. Then he could continue letting go of those fleeting moments of uninterest in your eyes, or the moments where you seem to be somewhere else as he makes love to you for the fifth time that day.

It wasn’t uncommon for you to ask him to cum inside you, begging even, claiming you wanted his baby and to have a family. This always unsettles him, he already has insecurities on whether he is actually pleasuring you and now your asking for a baby. He’s not sure he’s ever even made you cum before. Whenever you ask him, he always shys away, pulling out and cumming on your stomach or back. It only further upset him when you seemed so distant from him.

Maybe, just maybe, this woman who appears infatuated with him will revive his confidence.

The perfect life you were living was quickly destroyed before you could properly enjoy it.

It was supposed to be a normal day of peacefulness until there was a knock on your door. It made you confused because you weren’t expecting anyone nor did you order anything to be delivered today. Still, you went to open the door. Your heart dropped to your stomach and your face fell at the sight of a familiar body towering over you. Your body tensed, old habits resurfacing and you fought to not lower your head to avoid eye contact.

When you quickly tried to close the door on him, he simply forced the door opened and forced his way in. His signature pink fur coat was draped over his shoulders and his smile only served to scare you. Despite your fear, you wouldn’t back down without a fight.

“Get the fuck out of my house,” you demanded, not daring to raise your voice at him but still holding your ground.

You didn’t expect it to work but it was still insulting when his first reply was a boisterous laugh as if what you said was amusing to him. You felt your anger rise and you glared at him.

“What the fuck is so funny!? Get. out.” You restated, close to losing your whatever restraint you had.

In an instant he stopped laughing and his arm shot out, his hand gripping your lower face and forcing you further into the apartment and against a nearby table. You scratched at his hand, desperately trying to pry it off of you. Doflamingo only tightened his gripped and smiled at your scared expression.

“Now now, that’s no way to talk to your master. Being free has obviously been a bad influence on you~” he spoke, his words only making you glare daggers at him. “I’m here to collect what’s rightfully mine”.

Suddenly, he flipped your body around and forced your upper body to lay on the table and your legs to spread. You gasped in surprise and you tried to close your legs but he stopped you by using his strings. He used one of his hands to keep your hands bound behind your back. You were embarrassed by the suggestive position and fought to break out of his iron grip.

He flipped up the skirt of your dress, revealing your bare ass and cunt. You strained your head to look back at him, fearful of his intentions.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing!? Stop it!-“

You were shut up by him shoving in two of his long fingers into your cunt. The pain of the forcefulness and sudden pleasure caused you to let out a silent scream.

“Didn’t I tell you to watch your mouth? You’ve become such a naughty girl, you used to be my perfect toy and look what happened,” he said in fake sadness. He scissored his fingers inside you, making you squirm under him. “Guess I’ll have to teach you that you belong to me and not some weak, ugly piece of shit you call a husband”.

“Don’t you dare talk about him like that! He’s hell of a lot better than scum like you!” you yelled, defending your husband.

Instead of getting angry like you expected him to he chuckled, “is that so? I’ve got to say, you have poor judgment skills”. You scowled and furrowed your brows in confusion, “what’re you talking about?”.

Doflamingo didn’t reply in words but took his fingers out you, leaving you to feel a sense of emptiness as you were close to finishing. He took out a video snail and played a recording of your husband have sex with another woman. Their voices were clear when he declared that she was better than you, saying how you made him feel like he was lacking.

You watched with absolute disgust and disdain for the man you called husband. However, there was no heartbreak or sadness as you never truly loved the man. Still, it was distasteful for the man you grew to like to betray you in such a way and then berate you during the act.

Despite all this, you are still resistant towards Doflamingo. “So what? you think that is gonna break me? I’ve handled worse having to deal with your ass. All the shit I’ve had to deal with to please you only for you to go a fuck a woman who didn’t even want you, hates you even. I’m done putting up with your bullshit Doflamingo,” you spat, pure venom dripping from your words.

It was silent for a moment. The video had stopped playing and there was so movement. You thought that your words had finally pushed him over the edge and he was going to kill you, after all there was no way he would leave here without killing you out of revenge. To send a message to other slaves who even think about running away.

The silence was interrupted when he shoved his two fingers back into your cunt. The action causing your body to tense in surprise and making you let out a moan you suppressed.

“It looks like I need to reteach you that the only time you should make a noise is when your screaming my name, moaning in pleasure, or on the rare occasion that your asked to speak,” he said. Expertly moving his fingers to help you reach your climax, pressing against your g-spot and scissoring.

You couldn’t make out any sensible words to fire back at him, forced to bow your head in pleasure. Just as you were about to finish, he pulled his hand away, leaving you unsatisfied and dripping. Tears were streaming down your face and you whimpered at the loss of his fingers, you could feel yourself slipping back into your sex-driven mindset.

Doflamingo leaned down, pressing his body against yours and brought his mouth next to your ear. “You know you want me,” he says softly, his hand caressing your inner thigh, close enough to feel the warmth of his breath as it a shiver down your spine. “and it’s killing you.”

You turned to look at him with a weak glare before muttering a single word.

“Die”.

He sighed and shook his head in disappointment, his frown turning back to a smile. He moved his hand back to your cunt and rubs his thumb against your clit and his middle near your entrance, pushing ever so slightly as if he needs to remind you of just how much you love having him inside of you.

"Tell me how fucking bad you want it, slut," he whispers from behind you, keeping his tone low and silky. “Tell me how much you want my cock inside your pussy, pounding into you and turning you into a complete slut like old times,” he crooned in your ear. And fuck, that word. You hated to admit it but being called a slut is something Doflamingo has always done to turn you on.

Shuddered sobs erupt from your lips at his filthy words as you squirm against his body, pressing yourself onto his clothed erection, finally giving in to the pleasure. “Fuck, please please please I’ll be good, I’ll do anything- please fuck me!”

It was those three words that had Doflamingo grinning like a mad man. He picked your body up from the table and threw you over his shoulder with little regards of your safety. You let out a surprised yelp as you instinctively grabbed onto the back of his shirt for security. It’s been a while since someone manhandled you and so easily at that, that the action only served to arouse you further, your cunt drooling in anticipation for what’s to come.

Doflamingo makes his way towards you and your husband’s shared bedroom in long strides. You grunt as he drops you onto the bed on your back. You unconsciously scoot away from him, still trying to somewhat resist him; however, you weren’t able to get very far as he grabbed your ankle to dragged your body back towards him at the foot of the bed. The action also making your short dress rumple up to your waist, showing off your bare, soaked, lower half.

You let out a gasp when Doflamingo spins you around and puts you face down onto the bed, yanks your wrists behind your back, and wrapping them with his string. The thin material digging into your soft skin, threatening to break skin and draw blood if you struggle just to much. It only takes a few seconds, and Doflamingo steps back to admire the picture, a gorgeous body and round ass, cunt dripping onto the sheets from between your open thighs, the blush on your face. The way your skin reddens immediately when he swats your ass, hard enough to make a noise and cause you to jump in shock and pain.

Your natural response was to try and move away from him, but he grabbed your hips and pulled you back. “Where do you think you’re going?” He tauntingly asked.

He positioned his body behind yours and the anticipation of his next action was killing you. Doflamingo snickered at your bodies reaction to him, just sliding his fingers along your cunt had your body shaking in desire. Even though he wanted to tease you further, he was working with borrowed time.

A loud gasp followed by an unrestrained moan tumbled from your lips as the older male finally pushed his throbbing cock inside your aching cunt. Doflamingo didn’t give you any time to adjust, immediately pounding away and filling the house with shameless slapping sounds of skin hitting skin along with your pleasured cries. It was nothing at all like sex with your husband, it was so much more consuming, as though you were being devoured whole. You reveled in the feeling.

You could never go back from this point ever again. Not after you’ve been reintroduced to the pleasure that Doflamingo provided you. It was hard enough on you these past few years to restrain yourself and accept the mediocre sex your husband provided you, but now that you had a taste of that euphoria pleasure again. You don’t think you can go back to that mundane life again.

Doflamingo’s pace had grown merciless and his thrusts were brutal. You felt like you were being torn in half, and yet, you’ve never felt more euphoric. There was tears streaming down your face, ruining your mascara and staining the pillow under you. It came to the point where the ecstasy was driving you over the edge, making you feel as though you were dying. The experience was equally terrifying and exciting.

The moment you felt that knot in your stomach pop, your voice had long gone hoarse as you let out a strained scream and arched your back in pleasure. Your legs were weak and wobbly from the orgasm, you were only able to stay in your position by Doflamingo holding your lower body up. You didn’t even have the chance to realize he had orgasmed as well with a low grunt, filling you cunt to the brim with his semen.

It was still for a moment, both taking a second to ride out their highs. Your body twitching with adrenaline and ecstasy, little dribbles of drool falling from your mouth. Doflamingo looked down at you, noticing your blank, lustful expression, signifying that he finally broke whatever resistance you had left. You were finally his pretty little whore again. The one he fell in love with, in the twisted way that he felt love.

He also enjoyed the scene that he created, with you on your knees, face shoved in the pillows, your cunt full, cum leaking out and down your legs. Trembling and whimpering for more as you’re completely at his mercy. He grins down at you triumphantly. With renewed vigor, he pushed back into your cunt with no hesitation, pounding into you, forcing more cum into your sloppy hole. All wet and needy just for him as he holds your head into the pillow whilst he fucks you from behind. Making your legs shake and the bruises reminding you who truly owns your holes. Who rightfully owns every inch of your body. From the hair that is always in his grip to the toes that curl and stretch from dumbifying pleasure.

He grabs your hair and pulls you against his chest. Forcing you to arch your back in a uncomfortable position and making you look up at him. His long, slender fingers slipping down around your neck to choke you till your head is fuzzy. You’re moaning, damn near sounding like a cheap porn star, but you don't mind because you know Doflamingo likes it. You know he wants to hear more with the way he angles his hips ever so slightly to kiss your cervix with the tip of his cock. Your breath catching in your throat and your knees threaten to give out.

His hands tighten around your throat, you could feel his hot breath as you strained your neck from his grip to look up at him. "Fuck, just like that”, he groaned.

A part of you felt like laughing. Just like what? What’re you even doing? You’re forced to stay still for him, letting him do whatever that sick mind of his can come up with. Not that you were complaining so much about it. Just as you were about to attain another orgasm, he stops moving his hips, his cock balls deep inside of you.

You could feel the mixture of his semen and your cum dripping inside of you. Your almost whining, pleading for friction inside of you. Then Doflamingo starts grinding his hips against your ass, not thrusting at all but moving his cock in circles inside of you. You let out a quiet whimper, it felt too good to get angry at him for not continuing to fuck you.

But, you were a impatient woman, so after a minute of grinding, you were fed up and started moving your hips forward and then back again. You could sense the grin on his infuriatingly handsome face, and he snaps his hips against yours, hard. You could practically feel it in your spine, a loud gasp exiting your lips.

“You’re so tight,” he says, “I’m filling you so deeply, you like that, slut? I bet there’s a bulge in your stomach from where I’m fucking you.”

His words were like static at this point as your eyes practically roll to the back of your head as Doflamingo begins to truly fuck into you and you lose your head. Can’t think of anything past the sensations of his cock fucking your cunt. Pleasure from him hitting your g-spot with each thrust, a hand warm and steady on your hips.

You jerked your hips onto his cock and moaned, coming all over yourself, the sheets, and Doflamingo. You squirmed and writhed and cried, rolling up into Doflamingo's firm thrusts, finally freeing your hands from his strings to clutch at his arms to try and ground yourself. You still wanted more. He leaned down and nuzzled against your neck.

"That's it. Let master teach you a lesson. Be a good girl."

"Please..." The desperation in your voice was appalling, desperate, and hypnotic. You had succumbed to your suppressed desires and wanted nothing more to be Doflamingo’s again, to be devoured by his greed and lust, to be nothing more but a lowly lover.

"Please what, slut?"

"Please..ahh.., please master, please King, please Doffy! I’ll be good, let me be your good girl, do anything you say, please please please..."

"That's it," Doflamingo growled, nipping at your neck. "Tell me all about it, slut."

"Your slut," You promised, arching, grinding yourself up into his thrusts, which were quickly ramping up to brutal. "Wanna be a good slut for master, good slave for my King, let you cut me up any way you want, be the Joker's little pet, just teach me, keep me, love me, please love me..." you rambled.

"I love you," Doflamingo promised, rasping into your ear, and you wailed as you came, hard and crying and clutching, wringing a long moan and a hard, heaving, gushing orgasm from Doflamingo's entire body.

As your body fell onto the bed, the sobbing continued and your words slurred into thank you’s and please’s and love you’s and don't pull out yet, Doflamingo supposed it didn't matter. He had gotten what he wanted either way and if possibly getting you pregnant meant you would stay by his side then he didn’t care, he needed a new heir anyways.

Moonlight - part 1

werewolf!Steve x vampire!Eddie

There are werewolves in Hawkins. Yeah right, and there are monsters under the bed. That's Eddie's reasoning. Vampires don't exist, neither do werewolves or monsters or the boogeyman or mermaids or any similar creature. The howling at full moon nights are probably some weirdo trying to scare kids - hell, he'd do it too - and the reason Dustin Henderson keeps buying an insane amount of raw meat on those nights is because...the Hendersons like beef? Look, Eddie doesn't know, he just knows he's not falling for some myth.

"Well, if you're so brave go stay the night in the woods tomorrow night during the full moon." Gareth tells him with arms crossed in front of him and poking Eddie pretty damn hard in the arm. "I just might." Eddie retorts, though he knows he'll probably book it out of there the second he hears a twig snap, but there are people around. He can't act like a scared little kid. So that's why he's lugging a tent and a bag of snacks into the woods because he's not gonna let his stomach rumbling give away where he is to any crazy murderers hiding in the woods or werewolves - not like they exist or anything.

He had to get Wayne to teach him how to set up a tent at least 5 times before he even stepped near the woods. His flashlight sweeps the ground, the fresh batteries making it brighter than ever. Is he paranoid? Pfft, no, he's just not dumb, he's seen horror movies. It's quiet for a few hours, and Eddie totally doesn't almost squeal like a scared middle schooler who hasnt hit puberty yet when he sees a silhouette stumbling next to his tent. He can hear their heavy breathing, they must've ran here. They say a choked sounding string of curse words and - wait, Harrington? That's clearly his voice, what is he doing here? And why is he running? Is he running from something!?

Eddie peeks his head just a little bit out of the tent to see Steve there, keeled over and breathing like he'd just run a marathon. He looks like he's in pain as he falls to his knees, digging his nails - no, claws into the ground. He didn't have claws yesterday, what the actual hell!?

So, Eddie does what Eddie does best, he runs. He runs and runs and runs until he falls over because even though he's good at running away from things he hasn't gotten proper exercise in at least a couple years. Luckily there's no beast chasing him, only a howling far in the woods. He sounds like he's in pain, and part of Eddie wants to go back - but the sensible part of him is telling him to keep running. How deep was he in the woods? He's pretty sure he wasn't even that far yet they seem never ending. He's starting to panic, he feels like he's in a horror movie with the thuds and snarls behind him and never ending forest. He knows you're not supposed to look back but he does and... he isn't getting chased? Harrington, now fully transformed, has just slowly walked away and curled up. Whimpering.

It's so surprising Eddie slows to a jog, Steve reminding him less of a ferocious beast and more of a big dog that's all bark and no bite. The sensible part of him is screaming for him to keep running, but he's tired of running, his ribs hurt, and he wants to pet the big scary wolf. So he goes to pet the big scary wolf, almost immediately regretting when Steve snarls at him, opening one eye that's surprisingly the same honey brown.

But even more surprisingly, Steve stops snarling, nudging his head under Eddie's hand and closing his eyes once more like a dog. He's calm, just lying there. "Uh...good boy?" Eddie says, not sure if he should call Steve that in case he's still kind of human. He's never going to let Steve live this down. Steve "Good Boy" Harrington.

Okay maybe he shouldn't use that one in front of his friends. Bad idea. Very bad. Yup. Icky. He leans his back against the tree, Steve's head on his lap. It's kind of nice, Eddie struggling to stay awake as he literally cuddles a big ferocious beast. He's pretty sure Steve falls asleep at some point too, so he doesn't mind leaning back against the tree trunk and closing his eyes.

He knows he has Steve to protect him if anything happens. And he does, even if a bunny gets too close to Eddie as he sleeps Steve will snarl until it runs away, making sure not to wake the sleeping beauty he's laying his head on.

This won't go anywhere, Steve will make sure of it, but it's nice. And it'll be nice until morning comes, until Steve has to run away to find that little log he stuffed his bag of clothes in because he doesn't want to explain how his clothes ripped when he transformed. So, Eddie wakes up to nothing except a weird looking bug on his hand and a memory of soft fur that he really hopes was a weird ass dream.

Let me know if you want a part 2 and if so if you want to be tagged as well!! Also cut me some slack, this is my first serious fic ._. (little picture up top by me, pictures taken from pinterest)

PART 2!!! :D

Moonlight - part 2

Werewolf!Steve Harrington x vampire!Eddie Munson

a teeeeny tiny bit of angst but don't worry

A little bit shorter than I'd like and I'm realizing this might have more parts than I bargained for (also not proofread if you see mistakes no you don't)

Part 1 :)

They avoid each other like the plague. Well, it's mostly Steve avoiding Eddie a little more than usual. He even starts sending Tommy to buy weed instead of just getting it himself, which means that no, that was not in fact a weird ass dream and Steve most definitely is a werewolf. And Eddie called him a good boy. He doesn't know which is more embarrassing, the fact that he cuddled with him like he was a dog or the fact he kind of misses that. Eddie doesn't even attempt to talk to him. He didn't before, why would he now?

But the next full moon has Eddie wanting to go back to those woods. As he hears those cries and howls, he feels the strange need to go back out and help Steve again. So what does he do? He grabs the now cold McDonald's burger he was about to eat and his bag, as well as a pet brush because he doesn't want his fingers getting caught in Steve's matted fur again, walking briskly back to those woods. Just as last time, when Eddie peeks through the trees, he sees the big brown wolf curled up and whining, clearly still in a little bit of pain. "Steve?" Eddie asks tentatively. Steve's head perks up, looking around before his familiar burnt caramel eyes land on Eddie. He jumps up, bounding over to Eddie and tackling him to the ground.

Oh. Great. Eddie's dying now. His throat is gonna be ripped out and Steve is only licking his face to get a taste of Eddie before he absolutely devours him and- okay now why is that making him think about human Steve sucking his- anyways back to Eddie about to die. Which.. isn't happening. Steve hops off of Eddie, tail wagging as he digs his nose into Eddie's bag, fishing out the burger and finishing it off in a single bite, not even chewing once. "Steve.. hey. Uh.." Eddie stammers, sitting up and scooting back a bit. Steve is a lot more affectionate in this form, and Eddie just assumes that Steve doesn't remember shit because in what world would Steve Harrington want anything to do with Eddie Munson? Especially since... well, they have reasons for calling him a "freak" that aren't just about his looks. The one time he tried his hand at asking out a guy, it backfired horribly, and now practically everyone in Hawkins knows he's- that he's...

Different.

He was young. Tried to prove everyone "wrong" by asking out a girl he kind of liked, just to get people to think the rumors weren't true. But it only worsened things somehow, making him eternally damned to be "the freak". Why did life put him here? It's just his luck to be practically tortured his whole life then be told he's going to hell as if he's not already there. Maybe he has died. Maybe this is hell. He's only having this nice moment with Steve as he lays his head on Eddie's lap because it's a way for him to get his hopes up, for him to be happy for at least a few moments before it all comes crashing down again before he even gets the chance to savor it.

He's tired of it. He's tired of getting his hopes up, of crying, of dealing with.. everything. He's just. So. Tired.

Eddie looks back down at the werewolf lying in his lap when he feels Steve's wet nose nudge against his hand, big brown eyes looking right back up at him with a look that almost appears to be worry in his eyes. "Hey, Steve." He says quietly, running his ringed fingers through the light brown fur of the large animal. It's like a sliver of light, a shot of caffeine to wake him up. He feels a little more okay like this, even if his chest aches knowing Steve will only avoid him further by tomorrow. But tonight, he'll savor this tonight.

Before life rips it all away from Eddie, he'll savor this.

part 3

Tag list: @manda-panda-monium (that's it, you can totally ask to be on the tag list if you want, I'll add you no hesitation)

— Smother —

Rating: Explicit

Status: Complete

Words: 6.4k

Dynamic: F/m

Summary: Rori (F) smothers Riley (m) between her boobs, between her legs, and between her lips. Contains oral sex, bit of a light dom/sub dynamic, and a little mouthplay/light aftercare. Same guys from my first short fic, Chomp, but can easily be read as a stand alone. Little longer than my usual fics though (like 2-3 times longer lmao), so consider this a special treat. Once again gets right into the smut, characters are reoccurring. Enjoy!

Lounging on her front, Rori watched Riley with a keen interest while he stood atop her pillow and pulled his shirt over his head.

Shivering, brown eyes shot her a nervous look as he bent to pull off his pants.

Rori fought to wipe the grin off her face. Not yet.

With a little huff, he straightened and puffed up his chest to meet her gaze—Rori wasn’t even sure he knew he did it. “Ready?”

“Hm,” the witch mused, sliding a hand across the bed and up the side of her pillow; the way he braced himself for contact just delicious. Propping her chin with her other elbow, Rori snaked a finger up his leg to trace his hip through his underwear.

Catching his eye, she watched the shrunken man hold his breath as he awaited her next move.

Shifting her gaze down, then back to his face, Rori tilted her head and smiled coyly. “What do we think about losing these?”

“These?” Riley peered at where she’d slipped a nail beneath the waist band, wiggling it. His hands found the band, flattening against the fabric. He blinked up at her, wide-eyed. “Right, yeah. Yeah.”

He pulled his boxers to his ankles. She helped him kick them off when they got stuck on his left foot, tossing them to the side.

“There,” she beamed. “Much better. Now—”

She could feel his pulse leap as her hand wrapped around him. Rori sat up, free hand running over the fabric of her bra, nails tracing the edge of the cup. His line of sight followed her hand and his body temperature rose against her palm.

“—help me with mine?”

She brought him level with her chest. Tentatively, Riley reached out, fingers meeting the comparatively thick fabric with a feather-like touch. He ran his palm over it.

“It’s warm,” he observed quietly.

“It’s about to get warmer,” she said slyly, guiding him to the exposed skin of her sternum, between her cleavage.

Riley paused for just a moment before slipping a leg over the edge of her bra and climbing inside, bracing himself against her sternum. He gaped up at his surroundings—at the round, towering mounds, dwarfing him on either side. He ran his fingers over one, stabilizing himself against the rise and fall of her breath.

Her hands now free, Rori cupped her boobs and pressed them together—not enough to immobilize him, but enough to overwhelm him. Her heart hammered excitedly as Riley disappeared between her tits.

He squirmed against the walls of her skin. Tiny hands breached the surface of his confinement. Riley pulled himself up; free and wriggling from his chest and above, as if he were treading in deep water.

Teasing, Rori massaged her boobs, using her thumbs to roll the thick, malleable tissue against his chest—threatening to encase his head again. Lifting her tits, she bent her head to meet them as he looked up—placing a flurry of kisses across his face. He moved against her lips, surprised, but certainly not upset.

Satisfied, Rori gave him one last squeeze and lowered her tits, releasing them. She ran her hands over the fabric of her bra again, tilting her head at him. “Well? Are you going to help me?”

Riley blinked, then twisted to look at the front-facing clasp holding him in place against her chest—and then beyond, at her lap and bed. He peered back at her, realization crossing his face: he could fidget around and release the clasp—freeing her chest—continuing the game—and he would immediately lose his perch and plummet below—or, he could do nothing. Continue forward at his own expense, or bring them to a stand still.

She could almost see the gears turning in his head—calculating how far he would fall, where he would land, how much it would hurt—and then his hand slid over the clasp. He shook as he tried to unlatch it—a mix of effort, anticipation, and the thrilled drumming of her heart. He took a deep, steadying breath and held it.

The clasp unhooked.

“Shit—!” Riley hissed, lunging to grasp one end of the clasp as her bra fell open—his weight pulling one side of the fabric clear off her chest and leaving him hanging against her stomach.

Her hand ran over her free boob, giving it a little squeeze, and traced down, feeling where he was dangling. He tensed, expecting her to grab him—but Rori moved past him, sliding her hand down her torso and to the waistband of her underwear.

“Oh, god,” Riley squirmed, hooking his legs around the fabric of the cup and holding on for dear life as she leaned forward and stood.

She took her sweet time hooking thumbs under the band of her panties and bending allll the way over; pulling it past her thighs; her knees; her calves; her ankles. She could only imagine his face as she shifted her weight to step out of them, leaving him swinging back and forth on a flimsy little piece of fabric.

She discarded her underwear, tracing hands back up her torso. Rori tugged at the left bra strap—opposite the side he was dangling from.

Riley made a noise of protest as she slipped the left side of her bra off her shoulder, hand finally reaching for the right strap. Slowly, Rori pulled it down her arm, at last able to watch him hang on tight with all four limbs—desperately clutching the lightweight textile like the lifeline it was.

Holding the strap, Rori lifted the bra until his dangling form was eye level, flicking her gaze between him and the floor below.

Riley followed her line of sight. “Oh god, please, no. No. Please—don’t drop me—this isn’t enough to cushion—please, don’t drop me—!”

“Hm,” she tilted her head curiously, “since you beg so nicely…”

She brought him to her face. He gasped as teeth settled along the sides of his torso, gently prying his tense form from the fabric. Once she had him, Rori let the bra drop to the floor.

He shuddered.

Trying not to smile, she settled back onto her bed. Without warning, she released him from her jaws—letting him tumble down onto her chest with a shriek.

Unable to hold back, Rori grinned. She scooped him up and turned onto her side, boobs falling to the mattress. She pressed him to the top one, smushing his body against the plush surface. His hands rose; tiny fingers feeling their way across her skin. Mapping the sensations. It was an undeniably tempting sight.

Her pointer finger hovered, and through half-lidded eyes, couldn’t help herself as she shoved his head further against her; sinking into a soft, concave surface. He thrashed in surprise, but could do nothing as Rori mercilessly teased his face against her nipple. His hands flailed, struggling to grasp the finger behind his head, to pry her off him—to no avail.

Riley sputtered as she finally released his head, but she spared him no break. In one, smooth motion, she wrapped him back in her fist, used her wrist to part her tits, and swept him between them, flat on his back.

She paused for just a moment to observe his expression—still wide-eyed, reeling to process and keep up—yet trusting. Somehow always trusting, even as he tried in vain not to shake. It was cute, if not adorable. It made Rori want to lick him from tip to toe right then and there. Nibble on him—sink her teeth in—just a little.

Priorities.

Rori took her time to slide her hand out from between her boobs; fingertips taut against the undersurface of her skin, careful not to let the full weight of her top boob drop on him—not yet. She waited for a sign of struggle, some severe distress, but it did not come. Riley laid there, agape and obedient and waiting as her hand—his safety net—slipped away completely.

A new wave of desire washed over her as the weight of her boobs sealed around his every surface. She wasn’t even touching herself now and he was totally gone; vanished from all sight. She’d wholly sealed him away from the world, but still had him readily accessible in a way the pleasure of eating him didn’t provide. Consumed in a way that still left plenty of room for… toying. After all, with this much power, it was oh so easy to abuse in all the right ways.

Running her hand over her tits, enjoying the contact, Rori closed her eyes and felt him there. The impression of his chest; his arms. His legs. His head, turned to the side. Little hands and feet curled in on themselves, his warm body still tense.

Scoffing, Rori peeled her boob off him—just enough to hear his wonderfully desperate gasp for air.

“Relax,” she coaxed. “Afraid I’ll let you suffocate?”

“Or squish me,” Riley breathed—face flushed beautifully red—blinking rapidly as he gulped air into heaving lungs.

Rori flashed him a toothy smile. “Don’t tease.”

His eyes widened and he opened his mouth—maybe in protest or maybe to suck in one last, quick breath—before he was smothered again.

For a moment, she used no hands—just letting the weight of gravity cover him; relishing in how easy it was to bury him.

Finally, with a sigh of satisfaction, her hands began kneading—massaging thick flesh to feel his tiny body pressed against it—encased in it, molding to her touch. Her fingers found a nipple and rolled it between them, tracing nails around the bud and feeling it grow stiff and swollen.

At last, Rori kneaded the mound off him to soak in his bewildered expression and pathetically perfect gasps—

“Do me a favor,” she breathed, trying not to moan at how helpless he looked—trapped between her tits.

Even after being squeezed, pressed, and manhandled—his ears perked up and he craned his neck—questioning.

Rori took in his curiosity—his sweet ignorance—and smiled wickedly. “Struggle for me?”

She all but crushed him to pieces—giving him no time to reply as she dropped the full weight of her boob back onto him. His lungs sputtered against her in a wheeze, but if he needed to breathe, it would just have to wait.

A few moments later, Riley seemed to recover from the shock—twisting and turning against her incessant kneading, trying to squirm away from her sternum and out of her tits.

“Good try,” she chuckled, and leaned forward to press her tits against the mattress, sealing off his path of escape—squishing him even closer to her— “—but you’re mine.”

Still, he did not give up—Rori wondered how much of his rigorous effort was following her demands and how much was a genuine desperation for oxygen, or maybe a sense of claustrophobia—caged by too much of a good thing. Literally smothered by desire.

He kicked against her sternum. Clawed at her skin.

His head wriggled above her boobs with a choking gulp for air, managing a panicked, “Please—!” before fingers found his shoulders and head and pushed him below the surface of hot skin again.

Rori squeezed her tits together—squishing them—squishing him—between her hand and the bed. Her fingers rubbed her nibbles, swollen and flushed with color. He was completely at her mercy—if she so desired, Riley would not escape her alive. Either way, his life was hers.

Relishing in this, she breathed in deeply—taunting him—torturing him with her own breath as her expanding chest flattened him even further—squeezing, crushing force from all directions—then she sharply rolled over onto her back, just as she thought his movements might be starting to slow.

He flopped to a dramatic stop against the side of a boob, collapsing into a pile of sprawling limbs along it. Then he, too, rolled onto his back, landing in the valley between her boobs that was her sternum. His chest raggedly rose and fell, struggling to suck in as much air as his minuscule body could accept.

Riley started when a fingertip touched the side of his face—then slumped against it. His cheek was cold and clammy with sweat—hers or his or both, it was hard to tell. Rori gave him a solid minute to lie there like a dead fish, then pinched the sides of his waist and lifted him off her skin.

“No, no—” He struggled weakly, maybe at the loss of her warmth, or maybe because he was headed straight for her lips—but they didn’t part to draw him inside, if that’s what he’d been expecting.

Instead, Rori let him slump atop her face, head between her nose and her cupid’s bow and legs dangling off her chin. A gentle finger worked along his spine, occasional kisses pressed to his skin until it warmed back up.

“…Really thought…” Riley eventually managed, “…might want… to kill me… for a second…”

“I want to reward you.” Rori ruffled his hair, landing one more kiss before his arms found their strength and he lifted himself enough to meet her eye.

“Reward me?” He asked cautiously.

She couldn’t blame him for being suspicious, but his furrowed brow was still cute as hell. She gave him an encouraging rub between his shoulders. “You did so good. That deserves a little extra fun.”

He remained tense. “What does that mean?”

Rori grinned, causing him to brace himself against her nose for balance. “It means I want you to fuck my tits.”

His heart leapt against her skin. Riley turned to look at her boobs, each one hilariously dwarfing him by almost every metric—height, weight; pure sheer size.

Her finger tilted his jaw towards her gaze. “I want you to cum, you think you can manage that?”

“Yeah,” he swallowed. “Yeah, I think I can.”

Rori cupped her hand to his back, holding him against her face while she turned onto her side. Catching his eye, a mutual look of desire passed between them. Then with a wink, she gathered Riley up and deposited him on the mattress before a pair of boobs laying higher than he was tall.

The semi-firm surface below him sunk under her weight, drawing him in towards her at just the right height—hips parallel with the narrow gap where her boobs met. A minuscule hand braced him against her, the other he quickly wet and wrapped around his dick. Pressing his forehead to her, Riley kissed the warm wall of skin in front of him as he yanked his dick to full attention. It didn’t take long to get it to stand, throbbing and practically begging for something better than a hand. It was a hard sight to resist, but Rori managed by tracing her fingers over her collarbone.

His reward.

Leaning in, Riley lined up his dick, but still, there was a small gap between her boobs where their round shape curved in that he just couldn’t close. Frustrated, he pushed his forehead further against the plush surface and leaned his hips as far forward as he could.

Rori scoffed. “Need a hand?”

He looked up, gaze following the path of her top hand as it slid into place behind him. Using her hand to brace him from falling over, she leaned forward ever so slightly. Her boobs pressed against him. The gap closed, encasing his dick with her tits.

“Perfect,” Riley muttered under his breath. A mix of sweat and spit slicked him up, sliding his cock in and out easily. He leaned in again, pushing his forehead against her and gripping the sides of her tits like it was all he was good for.

Every time he thrust in, Rori squeezed him closer against her; matching his rhythm; allowing him to set the pace and watching his expression with a breathless fascination.

His brows drew together, his cheeks turned red; sweat rolling down his skin, jaw clenching—attention directed by the rhythm of his hips and her hand; pressing his cock further, deeper between the consuming heat of her tits. Where he’d just fought for his life to escape, Riley now fucked furiously for re-entry, desperate for more and more contact of hot, slick skin.

Resisting a smirk, Rori rolled her nipple with her thumb. His brow deepened as he peeled his face off her skin—a quick, half-lidded look of confirmation up at her was all Riley needed to immediately try to take the giant, swollen bud into his mouth—or what fit of it, anyway.

“That’s it,” she practically purred with encouragement, rubbing the back of his head as his tongue swirled over the ridges of her nipple. “Keep going—just like that.”

Teeth grazed the bud and Rori nearly crushed him against her.

“Fuck,” she breathed, biting her lip to restrain herself as his cheeks went concave and he sucked down hard.

His rhythm sped up—somehow even more desperate than before. Without missing a beat, she kept turn with him, pressing him faster and faster against her with each slam of his hips.

“Ah—fuck,” Riley managed against her skin, looking up at her with flushed cheeks and fucked-so-good eyes. “I’m gonna—a-ha—I’m gonna—”

“Do it,” Rori commanded, pinching her nipple with her thumb again. “And don’t you dare stop.”

With a shudder, he returned to dragging his tongue all over her nipple, pressing the muscle against it with each thrust. His breaths turned shallow and frantic, trying to hold on between the burning slick of her tits just a little longer. She circled her thumb against his head in turn with his tongue. Between her thighs throbbed.

“I want you to bite it,” she moaned, pressing her chest against him—trying to force her nipple into his mouth. “When you cum, bite.”

“A-hah—” Riley agreed. “Now—cummi—”

She leaned into him. His tongue fluttered gloriously against her nipple. His jaw clamped down—just as commanded—and they both lost their heads as a groan of release ripped through his tiny little body.

Rori fought to keep herself from totally flattening him, giving Riley space to keep thrusting his hips and riding the high of his reward. She could feel the feverish throbbing of his cock—the warmth oozing from it—the trembling of his knees—his grip shaking as he clenched his jaw over and over her nipple.

Finally, the rhythm of his hips slowed. Riley sunk his cock in between her tits as far as he could and kept it there; rocking his hips; still hugging the enormous fleshy mounds and sucking her nipple between pants.

As he began to still, she gave him one final squeeze, seizing his little waist between her fingers and rolling onto her back. She set him down between her tits again, letting him slump to his knees and recover.

“It’s quite the mess you’ve made,” Rori observed, wiping the cum from one boob with a finger and sucking it clean. With a pleased hum, she wiped the mess from her other boob, bringing her fingertip to his face and giving him a coy smile. “You try.”

He peered up, searching her eyes, then bent his head. His lips met her fingertip, tongue running across the ridges of her fingerprint as Riley licked his own cum off her skin; hands rising to steady himself against her finger.

“Very good,” she praised as he leaned back to wipe his mouth. “I was going to make you clean it all up by yourself, but…” Her legs parted. “You’ve made another mess that requires that tongue.”

He followed her line of sight. “Oh, shit.”

“Responsibilities, little man.” Rori sang, plucking him up and readjusting her pillows to prop herself where she could watch him best.

Her free hand slid between her legs, parting her labia—slowly, so Riley could see just how wet toying with him made her. His pulse sped up against her fingers again.

She lowered him onto her vulva on his hands and knees. She massaged her clit while he got his bearings; little hands adjusting themselves on her labia; his feet finding a hold at the back edge of her hole; pushing himself up so he did not fall. She tilted her pelvis up too, angling him toward her. Her hand hovered behind him, keeping him close no matter what happened.

Rori ran nails down his back, feeling minuscule goosebumps spread across his skin. She took a moment to appreciate the intricacy of such a tiny person—so perfectly expressive.

With a steadying breath, Riley met her gaze.

She gave him a nod, eyes shifting to her dominant hand, fingers still massaging her clit.

With a swallow, his hands met her fingers, lowering himself onto his forearms before the bud. Her fingertip brushed over his hand encouragingly, then pulled back so it could take its place. Her hand returned to her tits, rolling a nipple between her fingers as his wrapped around her clit.

“Use your palms,” she advised. “Back and forth—side to side. I like the friction.”

He took to her instructions with an adorably focused expression—drawn brows and dedication in his eyes—dipping his head to drag his tongue across the swollen bud between palming.

“Good,” Rori praised, arching her back and cupping her hand to his. “Harder.”

He pressed himself closer to her, too, trying to angle himself to give her the most force.

Her fingers returned to running down his back, feeling his ribcage expand with his every breath.

The skin beneath him throbbed.

God, her pussy was so open. The need to be filled threatened to take over; to feel him squirming inside her—right. There.

She arched her back again, rolling her hips and forcing Riley harder into her hand. Fingers danced along the back of his legs with temptation. His feet slid along the opening of her hole, down, until—

Riley gasped with soft surprise, peering under him at where he’d begun to slip inside her.

“Keep going,” Rori urged, fighting the impulse to wrap her hand around him; shove him inside her, all at once.

He returned to servicing her clit. Her fingers began to sink into her pussy. His calves were dragged along too, legs straightening, no longer on his knees but instead laying outstretched as she began to pull him inside her. She could feel his cock, sliding against her vulva as with a moan, he, too, struggled to control himself.

Rori clenched around his legs and he tensed in surprise. Good, but not enough.

“Faster,” she directed. “Use your tongue.”

She grabbed her boob as Riley obliged, squeezing it with a grip that would crush his bones had she used it on him. His tonguing only made her hungrier. She needed to devour him—greedily eat up every last delicious part of him and trap him inside her forever—now.

She sunk her fingers in another inch, bringing Riley up to his waist in the pit of warm, wet muscle. Cradling her vulva, he could no longer reach her clit with his mouth, opting to furiously rub it with his hands; grinding his hips with equal need.

They locked eyes and a wave of understanding passed over his face.

She bit the corner of her lip with dark, eager anticipation and pulled one finger out, then the other—slowly, as to not pull him out with them—and set them on his shoulders. Her thumb brushed his arm aside to get to his chest. He let go of her clit with that hand; clinging to it with his other—his last, parting squeeze of the sensitive bud before she pushed him chest-deep into her pussy and her clit was rendered out of reach entirely.

Her free hand abandoned her nipple for her clit, picking up where he’d left off, and god—

He was so warm inside her.

His encapsulated torso pressed against the thick, elastic walls as he panted, legs shaking—from fear or pleasure or her throbbing pulse—maybe all of the above. Gripping her vulva, he was still grinding his hips, sliding his dick along the ribbed muscle of her canal.

“Oh—fuh—fuck,” he moaned, gazing up at her through eyes barely open with pleasure. His flushed face was so pretty—especially with her juices on his chin, rolling down his mouth and neck, gathering where his body entered the tight vacuum of her pussy—at where it was eating him back.

The sight was so hot, Rori squeezed him until her legs quivered—threatening to close over him, crush him with her thighs—her hand alternating between pulling and rubbing her clit.

Buried up to his underarms, he looked like a swimmer in a pool, just before losing their ability to touch the bottom. He arched his body, stretching out inside her—legs trembling, feet curling—hands gripping onto her fingers, trying to push himself deeper—just begging her to give him more of this heat, this pressure—this pleasure. Pleading with her to drag him into the deep end.

Her hand ran over him, teasing him, feeling him inserted in her, where his skin met hers and how her pussy pulsated around him—and then, Rori began to pull him out.

“No—!” Riley squirmed with a choked cry, much to her pride and joy.

Rori forced her pussy to relax, fingers and thumb collecting his forearms with a single pinch—and then she lowered him again. She clenched her walls around him and slowly dragged him back out, making sure to enjoy every last ridge and divot of him: the spaces between his ribs, the curve of his waist, his hips, his ass, the way his muscle flexed against hers.

His eyes shot to hers—wide and questioning—Are you—?

Rori grinned back wickedly and shoved him in up to his neck.

Riley gasped—she rewarded it with an extra hard squeeze.

She could feel him swallow his nerves through her pussy. It throbbed excitedly as she plunged him in and out of her—each time she pulled him out, her walls clenched, trying to suck him in deeper—deeper, where he’d never see the light of day again; and when only his feet remained inside, the rest of her pussy gaped and beckoned him—Come back. Fill me up. Let me consume you—you’re mine. Don’t forget it. And when she shoved him back in, slick walls opened to welcome him, rejoicing in closing around him as if to say, Don’t ever leave again—gripping him, feeling every inch of his trembling legs and torso, wishing it was all of him—needing all of him.

His body shook with a mix of labored, frantic breaths and desperate, conflicted moans—caught between fear and pleasure. Desire and ruin. Unsure which animalistic drive was stronger. Each time he was pulled out, his cock sprung free, only to be shoved against him again as she sucked him back in, fucking him senseless like a glorified dildo.

Rori stirred him around—pressing him against every corner of her hole, trying to hold on, feeling her body tense as it threatened a crushing release.

More—just a little more. Hungry—so hungry.

Rolling her hips, she sunk Riley in deeper than ever—so deep, only his face and arms remained in the outside world.

He sputtered as juices washed over his face—Rori was tempted to leave him there, so wet she could drown him—stretching and straining for air, at the total mercy of her euphoria—sucked lifeless by her all-consuming body; his need for oxygen lesser than the mind-melting pleasure of her pussy.

Hole fluttering excitedly—threatening to close over him—she traced his face with a finger—teasing him, clearing his mouth just enough for Riley to get in one last, glorious gasp—and then she shoved his face under with a single fingertip.

Only his elbows and beyond stuck out of her now. Rori ran her nails along his forearms, feeling goosebumps spread across them—squeezing his hands between her finger pads—revelling in how tiny they were, and that she had them sticking out of her: the only visible sign she had an entire person wrapped up within her. She gripped his arms and pulled, just enough that his head broke the surface.

Riley gasped, skin red and covered in thick slick, hair plastered to his forehead. She pinched his chin between her fingers, making him squint at her through the juices he was coated head to toe in.

“Struggle,” Rori growled, so aggressively it vibrated through her chest—then shoved his entire body inside her pussy—head, arms, hands—everything—every. Last. Bit. Of. Him.

Fucking. Finally.

He was all there—deliciously filling her up—her walls rushing to contort to his every detail—sucking at skin—working to merge his flesh with hers. He filled her like his body was made for nothing else than to belong within hers—his sole purpose to fuel her desire.

And this time around, he took to her desire immediately.

Riley flung himself against her canal; limbs thrashing, hands and feet frantically running along the slick, ribbed chamber—fighting like his life depended on it—and for all intents and purposes, it did. A race between the air in his lungs and her tumultuous need to cum.

She rubbed her clit so furiously, her fingers ached, but she didn’t care—not at all. Her other hand gripped her tits, kneading them as mercilessly as her pussy kneaded him; squeezing him so hard, a dark part of her hoped his body broke and his brain popped and her pussy crushed him into nothing—nothing but pleasure—pleasure without limits while she savored the feeling of his powerless little body. Sucking him dry and lifeless. Consuming his soul. A whole person, an entire sentient being, turned into nothing but an orgasmatic high for Rori to wreck.

Her hips leapt into her hand—toes curled, thighs tense—fingers locking down hard onto her clit while she bucked against the pressure; grinding into the sensitive bundle of nerves that, up until several minutes ago, had a shaking little man dragging his tongue all over it. Inside, her vaginal walls convulsed, gripping him with contractions so strong, all struggle was forced to a trembling stop as her ecstasy reached its crushing peak.

Her thighs relaxed. She released her clit, giving it a few more appreciative squeezes and rubs of knee-jerking bliss before slipping her fingers into her slick entrance. She found his form easily, wrapping fingers around his chest and back and pulling his hot, sticky body out. Just feeling how warm and wet he was sliding out of her, temptation crawled up her neck to force him back in—start another round; keep him there, gripping and sucking on him forever; toying with him until he all but became apart of her—but his little body required something else of her.

Bringing Riley before her, Rori shimmied up her pillow perch a bit to inspect him. His head slumped against her knuckle; arms hanging limply over her thumb; legs dangling far above any surface he could have hoped to stand on. Truly in the deep-end.

But still, she could feel his tiny heart pounding in his chest, heavy and labored as his breathing tried to stabilize. Nothing seemed broken, just very red and maybe a bit swollen—something to keep an eye on.

He looked completely ruined and utterly pathetic—drowned. Smothered by sex.

Rori pressed a kiss to the side of his face. Then another. And another.

Her lips grazed his still-damp skin, leaving a trail of kisses down his arm. She smushed his hand between her top and bottom lip, trying to spread each and every finger. His hand twitched—fingers beginning to curl, feeling for where they were. His head rolled to the side and Riley groaned.

“Agh—am I… dead?” He mumbled.

Her lips pulled into a smile. She gave his hand a parting kiss and let his arm dangle free. “Not yet.”

He groaned again, rolling his wrist and rubbing his eyes. “…Are you… going to… eat me?”

She let out a short scoff through her nose. “Do you want me to eat you?”

“Hmghh…” Riley rubbed his face against her finger at the question.

Rori knew he didn’t like admitting it—that only made her press him for an answer more; drive him to confess that despite every survival instinct in his little head, the need to be held, consumed, desired, dominated—trumped all.

“I don’t—I don’t… don’t know…” he pulled his arms in like he might attempt to push himself up, but only had the strength to brace himself against an invisible force. He shuddered. “…Really strong pussy… are you done with me?”

She bit back a laugh, but was only half-successful.

He looked up to see what she was laughing at, and she could have sworn his already flushed face deepened to a new shade of embarrassed.

Rori gave him a dark grin. “I don’t know… you look pretty appetizing to me.”

Riley tensed as her mouth approached, gripping her thumb as if that would save him—yet still, her lips only grazed his skin.

He let out a ragged sigh— “Don’t—you can’t—stop… stop toying with me…”

“I say when it stops,” she reminded, licking his arm; feeling the fuzz of hair along his forearm. She slid her tongue under his arm, peeling it away from her thumb—drawing it into her mouth. She figured if anything was injured, this was a good way to find out.

Riley didn’t offer much resistance as she released his arm and seized the other, sucking him in shoulder-deep. He held his breath as she took his head into her mouth next; relishing the taste of sweat and sex on his skin, in his hair—dragging her tongue over his face, under his chin, around his neck—but she didn’t pull the rest of him in after.

No, Rori inspected each part of him thoroughly and individually—releasing his head with a wet kiss to his face—enjoying the way it left him breathless—then adjusting her grip so his front was open to her. She sucked at his torso, swiping her tongue across his chest.

“You taste good,” she murmured, and his heart skipped a beat against her tongue as she flattened it to his stomach; dragging it across his chest again.

Riley held off a scoff. “I taste like you,” he said softly.

“Mm,” she hummed, tracing his skin with her lips. “You add a little something to it.”

He flushed. Despite himself, he let out a content sigh and leaned into her lips, then turned over as her tongue snaked its way from his chest to his back.

Cheekily, she gave his ass a nibble, enjoying watching him squirm. She kissed along his back, licking up his spine and feeling Riley arch himself, shoulder blades pinching as her tongue passed through on her way to kiss the top of his head. She turned him in her grip again, but this time his hand tried to block her from his dick.

“Please,” Riley managed. “It’s still sensitive.”

She arched a brow. “Did you cum in there?”

“No.”

Rori nudged his hand out of the way with her nose, lips just grazing his dick. He made a rather embarrassingly cute ack sound and rushed to push her lips away.

“Liar,” she grinned. “I ought to punish you for that.”

He shivered at the idea, but she obeyed his request and skipped his dick, running lips over thighs; licking the salty taste off his skin. When she got to his first foot, Rori tilted her head back and took the entirety of his leg into her mouth, enjoying his wide-eyed reaction, complete with a soft little gasp. She circled her tongue around the limb, sucking it as one, savoring the taste and feeling of his skin, then pulled back—slowly.

She went to take his other leg into her mouth and Riley cried out sharply.

She jerked like he’d just spontaneously caught fire. “What is it? Are you hurt?”

Riley blinked rapidly, his breaths short and heart beat rapid against her fingers. “My ankle,” he swallowed. “Must’ve pulled a muscle. It’s not bad—just sore. And tense.”

“Let me see,” Rori said, raising him higher and bringing a delicate touch to the back of his calves. The left was indeed redder and more swollen than the right, despite the former being the one just in her mouth. She gave it a light, experimental touch. He remained unfazed, but when she tried to bend it, he pulled back with a wince, hissing.

Riley managed a glower as she released him. “…Really strong pussy…”

She laughed, then gave him a genuine look. “I’m sorry. I’ll try to squeeze you to death a little less the next time you’re in my pussy.”

He sighed as she pressed a kiss to the side of his face. “You never were gonna eat me now, were you?”

“Don’t sound so disappointed.” Rori winked. “I think you’ve had enough. Right now I want to pamper you, and take care of that ankle.”

“Pamper me?” His brows raised.

“Mm-hm,” she breathed in deeply. “You still smell like sex; we’ll have to take care of that—I’ll run a bath after I take a better look at that ankle. Massage you a little; relax those muscles. Sing your praises. I’ve got some nice lotion, too. Then I want to snuggle up and cuddle you.”

He looked hopeful. “Can we watch a movie too?”

She smiled. “Your pick.”

Riley nodded, settling against her hand. “I’m tired.”

She ruffled his wet hair, working fingernails along his scalp rewardingly. “You did excellent—my perfect little man.”

“Thanks,” he leaned into her touch, heart fluttering. “I… want to do it again.”

Rori gave him a devilish smile and watched a shiver work its way up his spine. Holding him between her fingers, she took in every last detail—the slight shake he started doing again, the way his lungs hitched in suspense, the whites of his eyes, wide with anticipation—body responding in ways she wasn’t even sure Riley was aware of.

How cute.

Rori couldn’t resist giving him one more kiss, if only to satisfy the squeeze in her chest.

“Oh, we will. Any new ideas?”

Want to know what’s new with Roo? 🐰 Daydreaming about the ✨️BIG✨️ news we’ve been sharing at our events? Were you perhaps even a touch jelly that our Otakon booth had a secret project celebration? 👀

Drum roll, please! 🥁🥁🥁

The Squirrely Roo Rabbit plushies Kickstarter pre-launch page is LIVE! 🎊

As avid plushie lovers, these huggable friends have been a dream of ours from the start so there was no way we were giving up on them! So, we threw ourselves into learning Kickstarter and we're finally able to share it! We are so excited (and relieved 😝) to be at this stage!

After all that time we spent working and learning, we felt now was also the perfect time to introduce Cammie as a plushie as well! If you ♡have♡ or have seen the Roo plushies, you can tell how Cammie has been planned from the start because of how the Roos were created to all have a functional pouch that fits Cammie perfectly. This is because we truly believe this dynamic duo is better together–ready to travel just as they do on-screen anytime, anywhere!

This is where we need your help: if you want Squirrely Roo Rabbit and/or Cammie plushies, please sign up to be notified at the launch of our campaign! If you are more interested in other merch, please sign up! But if collectibles aren't your thing, even sharing it word-of-mouth makes a HUGE difference as Kickstarter's algorithm really pushes projects that have more followers in an exponential way! In fact, the difference between 300 pre-launch followers and 600 pre-launch followers is literally 10x the traffic on launch day! 🤯

As always, thank you so much for supporting us! 🥺🤗 We greatly appreciate any sharing you can do to get the word out about our campaign! 🙏

♡ Boba Studios

Sign-up Here 👇

Kickstarter

Coming soon: Squirrely Roo Rabbit: Indie Game Plushies and Merch

Soft 16" huggable plushie of puzzle-solving, indie-game character, Squirrely Roo Rabbit! Restore color (and cuteness!) to our world!