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love-toxin · 9 days
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WHHHAAA omg happy belated birthday miss ellie!! i hope you're doing well and that you had a wonderful time!! make sure you eat something sweet!! much love (and kisses lol)!!
TY!!! i got to see kitties and i made my own birthday cake (for pink frosting privileges) so i got both hehe!! <33
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love-toxin · 9 days
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Happy birthday ellie can I have a kiss too 🥺
MWAH!!!!! big ol smooch!!! everyone line up ❤️❤️
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love-toxin · 9 days
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heyyyyy do you write for TWD by any chance? asking for a friend 👉👈 (the friend is me)
yeha....i could!! most certainly >:)
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love-toxin · 9 days
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miss seeing you on my dash miss ellie hope you're doing well girlie ❤️
i love you pls come back and kiss me </3
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love-toxin · 17 days
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sometimes i think about the srsly crazy shit i would love to write on here but then i remember how many 'kys' comments i get on ao3 for the most dry mouth white bread smut possible and i think twice about it. internet-mandated chastity
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love-toxin · 26 days
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jump - cha hyun-su
a/n: sweet home is giving me serotonin for midterm season u know i had to do it <3
(cws: gn pronouns, minor sweet home s1 spoilers, suicidal reader + suicide attempts, puking, failed OD, trauma bonding, mild lewd mentions, omg they were neighbors, dark meet cute)
wc: 3.2k
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August 1 - 2020
1410 - Cha Hyun-su.
Otherwise known as your unofficial, non blood-related, possibly-separated-at-birth-twin. Why? Because for a year and a half, you've been living as the official Green Home recluse. Now a second recluse has moved in right down the hall.
“Maybe we dedicate the fourteenth floor to up-and-coming college dropouts now.” You've heard that spoken under the breath of neighbours in the lobby, heard variations of it giggled between nosy ladies that have gotten too old to call it gossip. If they're resorting to gossip about two residents who have turned hikikomori, they're wasting their breath. Not much goes on in your apartment that anybody would want to gossip about.
As for Hyun-su? You're not sure. Sometimes you hear the tinny sounds of gunfire through his metal door. Other than that, nothing. So he games and eats ramyeon, and that's it? If it is, it's a little surprising. He doesn't look the type at first glance. In fact, he looks like he'd fit in with the popular guys you went to highschool with. The bulk box of instant noodles he ordered lies askew in the hallway, which you suppress the urge to kick as you walk by.
Your stomach rumbles. Wish I had the money to order ramen in bulk. Your life's savings jingles pathetically in your pocket: a few won scattered amongst pocket lint. The flickering of the lights overhead should be enough of a cue that you've fallen far in life. This apartment complex is a shithole, and aside from the odd cigarette or two you can snag from the convenience store there's really not much you get joy out of at this point. Food, sex, music, it's all the same. At least touching yourself is free. Not for much longer if I don't come up with rent next week. You absentmindedly kick a crumpled ball of paper down the hall. Unlucky as ever, your sandal goes flying with it, and tumbles right through the door and down the steps before you hear it hit the landing.
“Son a bitch,” You sigh under your breath, and with a moment of hesitation you hop along on one leg. No way are you gonna touch that filthy floor with your bare foot. Each step you take with help from the railing, and by the wall at the end of the landing lies your abandoned shoe–lying on its side like a piece of trash someone couldn't be bothered to throw away. You hop forward and wiggle your foot back into it, toes first. “Home sweet home.” You sigh sarcastically. Each step downstairs after that feels just as dooming as the last.
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August 8 - 2020
I think I might have to die soon.
The blue-white glow of your phone screen is all the light you've seen for days. You missed the rent payment. Your application for an extended due date was denied. You're getting kicked out at the end of the month.
Am I in hell already?
A frustrated huff escapes you. Your phone clatters as it hits the wall, but if it's broken or not, you don't care enough to get up and check. What's the point in writing out your feelings if you aren't gonna survive long enough to reflect on them?
You pull the covers higher over your head. I'm doomed. The world is over. You stick your hand out from beneath the warm covers to reach the dial of your CD player, and turn it. Click. No power. They cut off your electricity already.
You fall asleep to the sounds of silence and your own breathing under the smothering covers.
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August…something.
You kneel hunched over your toilet, expunging every ounce of fluid and bile from the hellish depths of your stomach. You've been puking for over an hour but there's still stuff coming out. With a loose, loud grunt you bury your knuckles into your stomach in a swift thud, forcing out one last expulsion of acid and chunks of food you probably ate ten years ago in the process. With a heave of laboured breath you sit back and slump against the cold tile wall of your bathroom.
Bad idea. If you work up the courage to try this again, you're sure as shit never using pills for it after this. You swear you could feel each one as they came back up for vengeance, the burn in your throat harkening to the amount of dry-swallowing and gagging it took to get them in there. You'd rather just jump out the fucking window at this point. Sorry to whoever has to clean up the mess.
A pass over your face only smudges the tears drooling down it. This is seriously pathetic. Your sniffles echo off the grimy tile like the chimes of a bell, they sound far-off but they hurt your ears with the vibration. Everything hurts. Your chapped lips burn and your stomach aches with every clench around empty air.
Can I just die now? Am I allowed to die? Your knees hit your chest and you sob your questions out to nobody. Nobody's here and nobody cares. If you weren't a coward, you would've jumped already. You would've jumped two weeks ago when you knew you didn't have the money. You would've-
Ching ching. The doorbell. Ching ching. Right now? Seriously?
Ching ching. Ching ching. Ching ching.
“I'm coming,” You rub your tears dry with an aggressive touch and get one last sniffle out. A single splash of cold water on your face in the sink is all you have a chance to do. Fucking landlord, probably. Probably looking for one last chance to hassle you about the money. Nobody wants to move here, it's easier to keep a tenant than find a new one–or maybe he wants to kick you out early. If that's the case, it'd be the icing on the cake for this absolutely wretched excuse for a life you've ruined.
Ching ching. Ching ching. Without bothering to check the doorbell monitor on your way by, you head for the door and reach out to brush the handle. It's only by sheer coincidence that you pause, and in a moment of clarity, bow your head to peek through the peephole before you turn the handle.
“What the shit-” The rug trips you up as your steps hustle backward, a yelp escaping you as your back hits the floor and you scramble up to sit and stare back at the door in horror. Whatever that was, it…it wasn't…
You swallow dryly. Your hands feel numb. You flick your gaze from the door to the handle and back again, watching with intent fear as whatever it is that's outside keeps ringing the doorbell until it stops. That's the moment the world itself goes quiet.
“I…hear you…”
Your heart itself ceases its erratic beat in that moment. The grin curling up at the creature's dark lips is palpable in its voice. That head of exposed, honeycomb-like brains that you spied through the peephole comes alive in the squishy, spongy sounds that emanate from the other side of your front door.
Bang.
A bulb-like protrusion explodes out from the metal, leaving behind a deep indent that will forever mark the spot where the monster tried to get in. Bang. Bang. Two more in succession show up in the squealing steel of your door. It's trying to get in. It's not going to stop until it does.
“I hear you!!” It shrieks in tandem with your terrified screams. “I hear you! I hear you!!” The cackling of its cracked voice burns holes through your palms and into your eardrums, your hands not nearly enough to block out the horrendous screeching of metal on metal. In a bid of panic, you scramble to your feet and away from the bending frame of your door. Your toenails scrabble against the carpet and nearly catch on the loose threads as you close the distance to the window. You left it open to let the stuffy air out, but now it's an escape hatch. A way out. Your palms grip cool metal as you raise yourself up to the sill and crouch on it on the soles of your feet, perched like a bird pre-flight as you look out into the mid-morning sky and back to your battered front door.
This is it. This is the last chance you'll ever have to look out into the world you're leaving behind. The sky is clear today, oranges and light pinks streaking across the scattered clouds and dissipating more as the sun creeps into the air. The breeze tastes cool and crisp on your tongue, a stark contrast to the warmth that the glow casts over your trembling body. God, I don't wanna jump after all. I just want to look at this view for just a little longer.
Fresh tears chill themselves against your skin in the breeze, but your last, wishful peace is broken by a sudden clang. Like something brittle thudding against a solid surface. The sound draws your head sideways in an instant. The wind whips your hair away to frame your distraction in perfect view, hanging halfway out of his window two doors down.
He stares at you with brown eyes, once blank, now deep with urgency and fear. Hyun-su has a broken mop in hand that he's since stopped smacking against the wall once he's got your attention. He swallows and you watch his adam's apple bob in his throat.
Sorry, I've got to die right now. Those words that you feel brimming at your lips fall silent as Hyun-su motions to you. But you just stare with glossy eyes and a pained smile, because what can he do? There's a monster breaking down your front door, and the last hinge is barely holding on. You want to mouth the words “I'm sorry”, but he suddenly disappears.
It's only a moment before you hear the banging. Like a door swinging open and shut on its squeaky hinges, the shunk shunk shunk shunk resonates through the whole complex and just about vibrates you off the sill entirely. But you cling on this time because the thuds and squealing at your door are growing softer. Soon, the noises stop altogether as you hear a screech and the heavy pattering of the creature's footsteps leading away. In just as much time as it took to decide to throw yourself off the fourteenth floor, you've been left in peace again.
It takes about a half hour before you're ready to move from your perch, to step down on the freezing floor and brace your shaking legs by leaning against the wall. You keep checking all day to see if Hyun-su reappears. You don't see a thing, save for the sunset that marks the dusk of a day you didn't think you'd ever survive.
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August ??? - 2020
If Hyun-su comes back, I'll sleep with him. On my life. Or I'll kill him. I haven't decided, honestly.
Your phone's battery is almost dead, and the screw that holds the hinge is so loose it's practically flopping all over the place. It's gone from a flip phone to a flop phone, realistically. Without the internet or cell service, all it's good for is a brick to hold your thoughts inside. Maybe it'll be all that's left of you once you're gone.
Is Hyun-su dead? That thought has been cycling round your head like it's circling a drain for about a day. The more you think about it, the more sure you are that he must've led the monster away to try and draw it from your door. The brain monster hasn't come back since, but neither has Hyun-su. You've tried everything from calling him to aiming a mirror out your window to get a glimpse into his apartment, but nothing. And if you knock on his door and he's not there, what will you do?
You've laid in bed awake all night, and with your stomach growling painfully you sit with your back against the mangled front door and wait. Your eyes shut at the tenth hour of the morning. Come back, Hyun-su. Please come back. Why'd you save me just to leave me alone again? You better not have died for me. The thoughts give you distraction for a while, as long as a while could feasibly last in these circumstances…
Shu-unk.
What the fucking hell was that?
Shunk. Shunk. Shunk.
You blink awake and stagger up to your feet in a rushed scramble. In the distance, just barely audible, is a soft voice echoing off the walls of the empty corridor.
“1412?” You're tempted to press your ear to the door to hear it closer, but the myriad of dents and fist-sized creases left protruding from it don't exactly leave a lot of space for you to listen. “1412?” The sound that had startled you awake, you now realize, is the sound of doors quietly being opened and closed. You're tempted to disbelieve, but the low coolness of that voice desperately makes you want to believe it's Hyun-su. And as terrified as you are of guessing wrong and paying your life's price for it, your fingers shakily clasp the door handle and it turns with a click. The squeals of metal make way for harsh scraping as the ill-fitting door fights the pressure of your body weight as you put everything you have into forcing it open.
It passes the threshold and swings open. You stagger into the corridor and catch yourself on the door frame, your fingers scraping dented steel from the pounding it took at the hands of that monster.
It is. It's him. That soft jawline and those big, brown eyes, the mane of fluffy hair and his unkempt clothes splattered with blood. He stands there lean and awkward in the hallway, lanky and ruffled and looking like he's been through a good bit of hell. His mop handle's got an upgrade but you don't care, really. You just feel a well of happiness surge up inside you that you figured had completely disappeared by now.
Hyun-su hurries up to you. When he gets close, he falters, however. His expression dims as he suddenly seems unsure of himself, and fidgets with the newly-crafted spear that suddenly seems too heavy in his hands.
“Are you okay?” He pants. “The monster-”
“You led it away.”
“Yeah.” He nods. “But you're okay, right?”
“Mh.” Your ears burn a little. This is my saviour, huh? So soft-spoken and meek? “Didn't get me at all. Thank you.”
He nods back, his scruffy locks forming a curtail around his neck as he does so. An awkward silence blankets the empty space. It's broken, however, by a deep gurgling in the pit of your stomach.
“Are you hungry?”
You lay a hand over your stomach as if your touch is going to make it stop rumbling. It's pretty humbling, to say the least–you hadn't realized how weak you'd become on two days without food. Hyun-su doesn't wait for an answer; he reaches into his pocket and pulls out something crinkly and wrapped in foil. It's still warm when he places it in your palm, yet his fingertips carry a chill as they graze your skin in the process.
“You should eat. We need to get going.”
“Where?” Hyun-su points down the corridor, and despite his urging you slip the candy bar into your pocket while you peek out where he's indicating. The door is busted-up and boasts a reinforced exterior from the many bumps and scrapes of a wheelchair coming in and out. You know it well. “1408? Where Mr. Han lives?”
He nods. “There's kids there, and some other people. I, um…I was going to come earlier, but they-”
“I get it.” For the first time in a long time, you crack a smile. “Had to go play hero again, huh?” If he was willing to drive away a monster from a stranger's door by using himself as bait, you can only imagine what he must have gone through to save some poor kids in peril.
“N-No, I-”
“You're a good guy.” You pat him on the chest. “I don't know why a good guy like you came to live in a place like Green Home, but I'm glad you're here.” Hyun-su looks down on you with a raised brow, but his surprise melts slowly into gratitude as he adjusts to your playful jabs. There's not many other ways for you to cope in an absolutely bizarre situation as this.
“...I'm glad, too.”
“Yeah?”
Hyun-su tilts his head down. He's a little hesitant on meeting your eyes, even though you owe him so much. “I'm…glad you didn't jump.”
“Me too.” The sentiment slips out of you so easily. When did that happen? Wanting to live? “I'd be a pretty shitty damsel if I threw away my life after you saved it.”
In the wake of another, now less-awkward silence, you stroll ahead of him towards Mr. Han's apartment. You only glance over your shoulder to make sure he's following, and to quietly reassure yourself that he hasn't disappeared again. When you do, that's when he hustles along to catch up, the smallest of smiles peaking his lips.
“If..”
You turn to look at him beside you. You can't help but pay him your full attention when he speaks–he does it so little, and he's so quiet, you fear you might miss what he says.
“If you feel like you want to jump again..” He extends his hand out to you. Despite the callouses on his long, lithe fingers, his palm looks soft and even…inviting, in some strangely enticing way. “..You can hold my hand. I'll keep you from falling.”
“Oh.” Your feet halt in their tracks. The air feels a bit heavier than it did before–but only in the space that separates you from Hyun-su. His hand lingers there, and beneath the cuff of his sweater's sleeve you spot for the first time those scars. Cuts, slashes, deep and intentional down the length of his tanned skin. Intersecting lines that point towards a past of hurt and harm.
So you and I are the same. Have you now, finally, come to that thought that Hyun-su had when he saw you ready to jump out your window?
“...Yeah.”
You place your palm delicately over his. Your fingers slide together like ivy on a window. They clasp into each other, squeezing like the grip of a latch on a closed door. And you feel at peace for real this time, because from this moment on you won't ever get near a ledge again–not to take a step off, at least. But maybe to see another sunset if you manage to survive that long. A smile perks at your mouth at the thought. God, I hope so.
“Let's hang in there together. Promise.” You squeeze his hand, and he squeezes yours back. The two of you make your way towards the apartment. And when this door opens, it'll close behind you for good.
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love-toxin · 1 month
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now that you have the yanverse blog & monster campus blog, when’s the crossover coming between the two??! /j /j /j
ok but why was my first thought abt a crossover Harley getting a cow hybrid darling for the farm thinkin they're a regular cow--//SHOT
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love-toxin · 1 month
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"i support women's wrongs" yeah but do you support whatever the fuck eun-ji has going on in all of us are dead?
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love-toxin · 2 months
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it's about to get freaky in here lads
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love-toxin · 2 months
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ellie I don't know if you're into death stranding but i NEED to know your thoughts on how higgs monaghan looks in the trailer for the new one. hot but also lil freak of all time, jumping up and down like a kid on christmas
DS2?!!?!!?!?? HELLO????? i am jumping off the walls rn. containment open creature freed. HELLO??????.
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listen ok i played death stranding forever ago and as a licensed goth game store lady gamer i have had 2 defend this game in the face of every kojima-hater in my sight and i am FROTHING at the mouth for this sequel. higgs looks like the most unhinged court jester alive and im so here for it. AND MR SAM PORTER BRIDGES??
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lord. LORD!!!!!! i am the freak now. jumping up and down like a maniac. hagshsnfhrisbsgsjrbe. im encountering a software reset in my brain rn. i have to replay death stranding now before i combust into a million tiny ellie pieces 🥺❤️
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love-toxin · 2 months
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This is the most fantastic news I’ve ever heard. Your resident evil work is scrum-diddly-dumptious
dude im playing separate ways finally and oh my god oh my GOD oh my sweet mary on the cross i am U-N-W-E-L-L jesus christ. lord. dios mio. i want them all carnally.
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love-toxin · 2 months
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Not sure how often you write anymore, but I just wanna let you know that your Leon Kennedy stage was the greatest time of my life I need him carnally
baby that stage is never over he watches me from my bookcase waitin for my hands to smack my laptop <3
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love-toxin · 2 months
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hyrule spice <3 (rauru, byrne, tauro, link)
(general cws: graphic smut, fem/afab pronouns, breeding, knotting, hylian/zonai relations, pet names/name calling, dirty talk, degradation, squirting, fingering, overstim, bondage, unprotected sex, rough sex)
rauru of hyrule
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Rauru never falters, never hesitates. He wants you and you're his. There's no fighting it--there simply can't be any doubt that you have his love.
But as the king of Hyrule, he has a duty to fulfill. Marriage, family, continuance of the royal bloodline...you understand, don't you? Even as a Hylian, you must. As a man and a Zonai, he has needs.
One of those needs, especially when faced with a pretty Hylian like yourself, is to breed.
"Ah, ah, ah--ahnnnngh-!" Is it you now, is it him? Who even cares at this point, you're basically the same being by now; bodies intertwined and moving in unison, every shuffle dictated by Rauru's massive Zonaite body towering over yours. Both his furry, clawed hands rest over yours, palms dwarfing your tiny Hylian fingers as he plants his body firmly into every thrust. The thin, fuzzy layer of hair that protects his cock is now coated in your arousal, sticky and slick from the pounding you've taken so all that rings in your ears is a hefty plap plap plap from behind as you take his thrusts.
Rauru once apologized to you, when you met, about his "off-putting" appearance. His ears, his claws, his snout that makes it difficult to kiss, his fur and his tail...he doesn't apologize for it anymore. He knows now that he doesn't have to, not when he gives you treatment like this.
"Forward," He snarls into your ear, gone mad with the weight of his lust and the frenzy of his mid-month heat. His teeth could rip the flesh from your bones, yet even in this state he uses them only to pierce the sweetest of claiming bites into your throat and down your spine. "Bend...until you break."
He can't be satiated by thought alone. Nor even the touch of his own hands, or a concubine if he owned one. It can only be you. Only your soft, squishy flesh rubbing up against his fur, your hands pinned beneath his claws, and your womb pierced on the tip of his thick, knot-heavy cock that's just begging to lock itself within your cunt and never let go.
Those claws dig painfully into your back, yet it doesn't dissuade you, and he loves that. He loves that at the end of the day, you'll submit to your king as he forces you to the sheets and pins your hips under his, his knot swelling and swelling until he finally breaches that soft place and all becomes right with the world. Through the pain you still adore him, and through the pleasure even more so.
Now, it's just a matter of soothing your bruised, marked-up body with his voice and his doting touch, with kisses and whispers of love and promises of all the gorgeous gifts he's going to present to you, as a token of gratitude for allowing the first of the Zonai to mate with the first Hylian--and person--he's ever truly loved.
byrne the dueling spirit
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One hundred years. One hundred years of hard labour, training, and agony. Loneliness and isolation and anger, fury building itself up and up and up until it boils, begging to be let out on anyone close enough to make a decent punching bag.
Byrne doesn't know love. Never has, never feels like he ever will--he only knows pain and weakness, the desire to grow stronger clawing at him like a ravenous dog. Maybe that's why he finally lets loose on you. You were within reach. Never said no, never gave him anything but a smile.
And you're regretting it now, he bets. Because you have a muscled, weighty beast of a man on top of you, and you can feel the way he's learning this kind of touch for the first time as well as you can see clouds in the sky.
Or could, if you didn't have your face forced into your pillow, back arched so deeply the sweat pools like a puddle in the dip of your back. And it shakes and spills with the creaking of your bedframe, your down mattress squealing for mercy as Byrne forces you down and bullies your pussy into submission.
"Shut up." He groans, as if his bandana hasn't been balled up and stuffed into your mouth to quiet your incessant noises. If he didn't like you, he wouldn't say anything. But he can't help but tease you...can't help but make you wish you'd never invited him back to your house in the first place. "....Useless bitch." He grumbles, the smirk on his face going unnoticed as your lust-numbed brain leaks out your ears. Your pussy's cute, but it won't let him go--and even when he tries, your body just sucks him back in like you can't go a minute without being fucked.
But it just gives him the chance to put that metal arm to good use. It isn't rubbing or pinching he uses to his advantage, but a cold, hard, wet slap against your clit that finally shocks you enough to let him go--just barely enough to slide out before you clench down on the tip, though, and your muscles won't loosen as if you've been made to have a vice grip most inconveniently. He's gotta go. "Can't stick around fucking you all day. Let go."
Pop. With a deep, clingy squelch, he's finally pulled free from your soaking wet, tight as hell abyss, contrary to your whines and squirmy wiggling that beg him sweetly for more. To stay.
You're pretty and all. He likes you, and he doesn't like anyone. But he can't stay....and you can't get too attached to him, or else you're just gonna end up heartbroken.
But, maybe...maybe he can spare you a little dignity and make you finish. He thinks as he slides his cockhead through your folds again, unaware of just how hard he's falling in love as he sinks back in.
tauro the scholar
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Your scholar is a nightmare because he won't let anything just lie. He needs answers. Evidence. Scientific proof. He needs logic and deciphered clues to figure out life's greatest mysteries.
Hence why he's doing today's case study on your soft, cute, and sensitive little pussy.
"Subject-responds-to-stimuli-even-under-duress," He speaks softly as his free hand scribbles out his notes on the pad between his feet, his fingers on the other hand buried deep within your twitching, stretched pussy lips. The 'stimuli' being him, and 'duress'....well, emotional duress counts. Especially when you've orgasmed 8 times today. "I believe in you, baby." Tauro replies cheerfully to your fucked-out groans, a smile permanently etched on his lips as he curls his fingers deep into your cervix. "I can make you ejaculate today! We're almost there!"
Somehow the sterile language he likes to use--which would normally be a bit of a mood killer in bed--just doesn't faze you anymore with Tauro. He's a bit of a kook, a cute airhead with the kind of knowledge the Sheikah themselves would kill for. A sweet, silly man who likes to tease.
A man who isn't intimidated by the pulses of your pussy nor the jerk of your hips as the pressure pushes down on your bladder, who positions his face right up close between your legs despite you gasping out that you feel like you're gonna pee. Embarrassment is nothing to him.
"That's what it's supposed to feel like."
He growls with an eager grin, fucking your cunt even faster with those thick fingers that's toe-curling but not yet cusping on painful. The bristly hairs on his freshly-shaved chin rub your soaked skin as he leans in, laving his huge, hot tongue over your tortured clit that's been messed with like a hot button all day today.
It's only when your shaking hips and arched back come to a standstill that he's finally satisfied--drenched in your juices, his face glistening as he talks you through and urges you to "let it all out baby, give everything to me" until you're squirting just like he told you he'd make you do for him.
Rarely have you seen such satisfaction on his face upon finding the answer he was looking for. Each tremor comes as he eases more out of you, every gasp and spurt of fluid getting him more excited about the results. You drench him from head to lap and he couldn't be more ecstatic, licking every bit he can get off his fingers and his palm as he looks up at you through hooded eyes.
"Now..." He pants, hair slicked down and tongue lolling out of his mouth as he laps up the droplets sticking to your folds as you tremble. "...Let's see if you can do that again, hm?"
link the hero
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Link needs very few, simple things in life to coexist with reality. Those are primarily food, warmth, sunshine...and sex.
Poor hero. All he needs is an orgasm or two to get him back into the fight when he's exhausted from his toils. That's not so much to ask for, right?
That's where you come in. Such a pretty thing--and such a nice girl to help him out when he's in need. Link can show up on your doorstep night or day, rain or shine, healthy or half-dead, and to see you let him in and give him a place to put his feet up makes him feel like he's in love.
And whatever ails him is sure to clear up with a dose of your sweet, slick pussy that he swears was moulded just for him.
"Ha...ha...hah, ah-!" Link huffs out as he comes to a close again, hips bucking violently from below as he lets those animal instincts run wild with you. He can't be stopped, hence why you have to use those handy Lynel-silver shackles to cuff him to your bed, all so he won't break free in the heat of the moment and start fucking you rabidly on the floor of your cottage. Not like that's ever happened before, and he accidentally traumatized your milkman when he came knocking on the door....
"D-Don't strain, Link..." You gasp, his cum flooding down your thighs from hours upon hours of rabid coming-home-from-battle sex. "You'll hurt yourself."
Link doesn't talk much as it is, but the wobbly grin and the rolling back of his eyes in his head serves well enough to say what he thinks about that sentiment. Don't care. Need to blow my load. That's what's written all over his expression, and you can't say you're much surprised...or disappointed.
"Fine," You sigh, swirling your hips in deep circles to slow his thrusts--and to remind him of how much he's at your mercy now, no matter how strong of a warrior he is out on the field of battle. Your chuckle causes his back to arch up off the bed, his wrists pulling hard at the cuffs while his heart nearly beats out of his chest. "Then be a good boy and cum already. I've got a mess to clean up."
Link growls, that feral growl that only comes out when he's really, desperately in need of release. He starts thrusting more violently, his hips barely meeting the mattress anymore as he chases that pleasure against your womb--against that blasted little wall that feels like heaven but constantly stops him from shooting ropes right into the source of that ecstasy he loves. Maybe one day.
For now, it only stops once you've had your cervix appropriately bruised, and he's made you slump over him in a panting, gasping mess as his seed flows out of you and into his sweaty lap. Maybe he doesn't need Hyrule, Hylia's blessing, or the Master Sword, or anything anymore.
Maybe all he needs in this world is you.
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love-toxin · 2 months
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hyrule spice <3 (rauru, byrne, tauro, link)
(general cws: graphic smut, fem/afab pronouns, breeding, knotting, hylian/zonai relations, pet names/name calling, dirty talk, degradation, squirting, fingering, overstim, bondage, unprotected sex, rough sex)
rauru of hyrule
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Rauru never falters, never hesitates. He wants you and you're his. There's no fighting it--there simply can't be any doubt that you have his love.
But as the king of Hyrule, he has a duty to fulfill. Marriage, family, continuance of the royal bloodline...you understand, don't you? Even as a Hylian, you must. As a man and a Zonai, he has needs.
One of those needs, especially when faced with a pretty Hylian like yourself, is to breed.
"Ah, ah, ah--ahnnnngh-!" Is it you now, is it him? Who even cares at this point, you're basically the same being by now; bodies intertwined and moving in unison, every shuffle dictated by Rauru's massive Zonaite body towering over yours. Both his furry, clawed hands rest over yours, palms dwarfing your tiny Hylian fingers as he plants his body firmly into every thrust. The thin, fuzzy layer of hair that protects his cock is now coated in your arousal, sticky and slick from the pounding you've taken so all that rings in your ears is a hefty plap plap plap from behind as you take his thrusts.
Rauru once apologized to you, when you met, about his "off-putting" appearance. His ears, his claws, his snout that makes it difficult to kiss, his fur and his tail...he doesn't apologize for it anymore. He knows now that he doesn't have to, not when he gives you treatment like this.
"Forward," He snarls into your ear, gone mad with the weight of his lust and the frenzy of his mid-month heat. His teeth could rip the flesh from your bones, yet even in this state he uses them only to pierce the sweetest of claiming bites into your throat and down your spine. "Bend...until you break."
He can't be satiated by thought alone. Nor even the touch of his own hands, or a concubine if he owned one. It can only be you. Only your soft, squishy flesh rubbing up against his fur, your hands pinned beneath his claws, and your womb pierced on the tip of his thick, knot-heavy cock that's just begging to lock itself within your cunt and never let go.
Those claws dig painfully into your back, yet it doesn't dissuade you, and he loves that. He loves that at the end of the day, you'll submit to your king as he forces you to the sheets and pins your hips under his, his knot swelling and swelling until he finally breaches that soft place and all becomes right with the world. Through the pain you still adore him, and through the pleasure even more so.
Now, it's just a matter of soothing your bruised, marked-up body with his voice and his doting touch, with kisses and whispers of love and promises of all the gorgeous gifts he's going to present to you, as a token of gratitude for allowing the first of the Zonai to mate with the first Hylian--and person--he's ever truly loved.
byrne the dueling spirit
One hundred years. One hundred years of hard labour, training, and agony. Loneliness and isolation and anger, fury building itself up and up and up until it boils, begging to be let out on anyone close enough to make a decent punching bag.
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Byrne doesn't know love. Never has, never feels like he ever will--he only knows pain and weakness, the desire to grow stronger clawing at him like a ravenous dog. Maybe that's why he finally lets loose on you. You were within reach. Never said no, never gave him anything but a smile.
And you're regretting it now, he bets. Because you have a muscled, weighty beast of a man on top of you, and you can feel the way he's learning this kind of touch for the first time as well as you can see clouds in the sky.
Or could, if you didn't have your face forced into your pillow, back arched so deeply the sweat pools like a puddle in the dip of your back. And it shakes and spills with the creaking of your bedframe, your down mattress squealing for mercy as Byrne forces you down and bullies your pussy into submission.
"Shut up." He groans, as if his bandana hasn't been balled up and stuffed into your mouth to quiet your incessant noises. If he didn't like you, he wouldn't say anything. But he can't help but tease you...can't help but make you wish you'd never invited him back to your house in the first place. "....Useless bitch." He grumbles, the smirk on his face going unnoticed as your lust-numbed brain leaks out your ears. Your pussy's cute, but it won't let him go--and even when he tries, your body just sucks him back in like you can't go a minute without being fucked.
But it just gives him the chance to put that metal arm to good use. It isn't rubbing or pinching he uses to his advantage, but a cold, hard, wet slap against your clit that finally shocks you enough to let him go--just barely enough to slide out before you clench down on the tip, though, and your muscles won't loosen as if you've been made to have a vice grip most inconveniently. He's gotta go. "Can't stick around fucking you all day. Let go."
Pop. With a deep, clingy squelch, he's finally pulled free from your soaking wet, tight as hell abyss, contrary to your whines and squirmy wiggling that beg him sweetly for more. To stay.
You're pretty and all. He likes you, and he doesn't like anyone. But he can't stay....and you can't get too attached to him, or else you're just gonna end up heartbroken.
But, maybe...maybe he can spare you a little dignity and make you finish. He thinks as he slides his cockhead through your folds again, unaware of just how hard he's falling in love as he sinks back in.
tauro the scholar
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Your scholar is a nightmare because he won't let anything just lie. He needs answers. Evidence. Scientific proof. He needs logic and deciphered clues to figure out life's greatest mysteries.
Hence why he's doing today's case study on your soft, cute, and sensitive little pussy.
"Subject-responds-to-stimuli-even-under-duress," He speaks softly as his free hand scribbles out his notes on the pad between his feet, his fingers on the other hand buried deep within your twitching, stretched pussy lips. The 'stimuli' being him, and 'duress'....well, emotional duress counts. Especially when you've orgasmed 8 times today. "I believe in you, baby." Tauro replies cheerfully to your fucked-out groans, a smile permanently etched on his lips as he curls his fingers deep into your cervix. "I can make you ejaculate today! We're almost there!"
Somehow the sterile language he likes to use--which would normally be a bit of a mood killer in bed--just doesn't faze you anymore with Tauro. He's a bit of a kook, a cute airhead with the kind of knowledge the Sheikah themselves would kill for. A sweet, silly man who likes to tease.
A man who isn't intimidated by the pulses of your pussy nor the jerk of your hips as the pressure pushes down on your bladder, who positions his face right up close between your legs despite you gasping out that you feel like you're gonna pee. Embarrassment is nothing to him.
"That's what it's supposed to feel like."
He growls with an eager grin, fucking your cunt even faster with those thick fingers that's toe-curling but not yet cusping on painful. The bristly hairs on his freshly-shaved chin rub your soaked skin as he leans in, laving his huge, hot tongue over your tortured clit that's been messed with like a hot button all day today.
It's only when your shaking hips and arched back come to a standstill that he's finally satisfied--drenched in your juices, his face glistening as he talks you through and urges you to "let it all out baby, give everything to me" until you're squirting just like he told you he'd make you do for him.
Rarely have you seen such satisfaction on his face upon finding the answer he was looking for. Each tremor comes as he eases more out of you, every gasp and spurt of fluid getting him more excited about the results. You drench him from head to lap and he couldn't be more ecstatic, licking every bit he can get off his fingers and his palm as he looks up at you through hooded eyes.
"Now..." He pants, hair slicked down and tongue lolling out of his mouth as he laps up the droplets sticking to your folds as you tremble. "...Let's see if you can do that again, hm?"
link the hero
Link needs very few, simple things in life to coexist with reality. Those are primarily food, warmth, sunshine...and sex.
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Poor hero. All he needs is an orgasm or two to get him back into the fight when he's exhausted from his toils. That's not so much to ask for, right?
That's where you come in. Such a pretty thing--and such a nice girl to help him out when he's in need. Link can show up on your doorstep night or day, rain or shine, healthy or half-dead, and to see you let him in and give him a place to put his feet up makes him feel like he's in love.
And whatever ails him is sure to clear up with a dose of your sweet, slick pussy that he swears was moulded just for him.
"Ha...ha...hah, ah-!" Link huffs out as he comes to a close again, hips bucking violently from below as he lets those animal instincts run wild with you. He can't be stopped, hence why you have to use those handy Lynel-silver shackles to cuff him to your bed, all so he won't break free in the heat of the moment and start fucking you rabidly on the floor of your cottage. Not like that's ever happened before, and he accidentally traumatized your milkman when he came knocking on the door....
"D-Don't strain, Link..." You gasp, his cum flooding down your thighs from hours upon hours of rabid coming-home-from-battle sex. "You'll hurt yourself."
Link doesn't talk much as it is, but the wobbly grin and the rolling back of his eyes in his head serves well enough to say what he thinks about that sentiment. Don't care. Need to blow my load. That's what's written all over his expression, and you can't say you're much surprised...or disappointed.
"Fine," You sigh, swirling your hips in deep circles to slow his thrusts--and to remind him of how much he's at your mercy now, no matter how strong of a warrior he is out on the field of battle. Your chuckle causes his back to arch up off the bed, his wrists pulling hard at the cuffs while his heart nearly beats out of his chest. "Then be a good boy and cum already. I've got a mess to clean up."
Link growls, that feral growl that only comes out when he's really, desperately in need of release. He starts thrusting more violently, his hips barely meeting the mattress anymore as he chases that pleasure against your womb--against that blasted little wall that feels like heaven but constantly stops him from shooting ropes right into the source of that ecstasy he loves. Maybe one day.
For now, it only stops once you've had your cervix appropriately bruised, and he's made you slump over him in a panting, gasping mess as his seed flows out of you and into his sweaty lap. Maybe he doesn't need Hyrule, Hylia's blessing, or the Master Sword, or anything anymore.
Maybe all he needs in this world is you.
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love-toxin · 2 months
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SOMETHING SOMETHING GENDER ENVY SOMETHING SOMETHING WANNA SUCK HIM OFF NASTY-
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love-toxin · 2 months
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How’s Harley and Elias lately? Still repressing arousal and vulnerability with sexually charged aggression?
honestly put those two in a room together and inject harley with some aphrodisiac and they could probably fuck all their problems away
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love-toxin · 2 months
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ooooh ellie ellie ellie. i have this thing stuck in my head and i gotta have someone else know, cause it needs OUT!! would you mind if i send it? its not like series specific or anything and not related to anything, its like its own thing but could be applied to anything honestly
ofc!!! you can send me pretty much anything tbh LOL I'd love to see it!! <33
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