#baby blue bitty

[ut-museum-guide]

Bittybones / Lamia

14 fanfics, 6 comics

2 fanfics are more than 100k _Stowaway Bitty & AVA

3 lamia/naga centric

1 smut _Ain’t this lamia

1 suggestive _ #20

Creator

Bittybones

@/fuckencrybaby

Lamiatale by ???

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1. Little Red

By Spectascopes

@/spectascopes

Human!SwapPaps, Human!SwapSans, OC bitty

Edgy-ish Cherry

Recovery fic

Note: trans man character

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2. Bitty and the Beast

By Dreaming Mystic (59k)

Ink, Axe (Horrortale)

Bittybones, beauty and the beast style, kidnap style

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3. Just a Little Off Beat

By Kharons_End (152k) - InC

Baby Blue, Lil Bro

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4. Stowaway Bitty

By Historically Dragon (301k) - InC

Razzberry

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5. A Trio of Misfits

By Sabinarius

Baby Blue, Lil Bro

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6. Oops I have a Naga

By Spectascopes

Sansy, Papy

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7. Ain’t this Lamia

By Kamari333

Smut

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8. Itty-Bitty Boutique

By PixelPax

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9. Love is where the Family is

By basurtoj15

Note: kick ass big sis mc

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10. A Little Bit(ty) of Trouble.

By Kassykins

Edgy, Boss, Baby Blue, Lil Bro

Note: bitty support animal

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11. One Bittybone At a Time

By LeenaZenyo

Cherry, Papy

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12. Monsters should be Cute!

By TellCosy

Horror bitties

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13. Bit-ter Memories

By TinyPeachFox

Gaster sans, eventual smut

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14. Ava

By Inyahs

Soft bones

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Comics

15. Honey Eggs

@/boe-someone

Stretch, Baby Blue lamia, skele-bunny bitty

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16. Bara - Sans -Bitty

@/theskeletongames

@/poetax

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17. Itty Bitty Problems

@/theskeletongames

Sansy, Edgy

18. Little Story

@/theskeletongames

Reader equivalent

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One Shot

19. Baby Blue - Horror Kitty

@/theskeletongames

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20. Edgy bitty +18

@/ammazolie

[last updated: 11March24, 20 exhibits]

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From @undertale-museum

[vex-bittys]

Hi vex, sending you somewhat of a family photo of all the felt bitty I’ve crafted so far. There are so many of them now, i had trouble getting the photo taken as they kept trying to roll away from or towards each other xD

Hope you had a happy holiday and a wonderful start to the new year.

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*NGL, December and January have been very rough months for me, but receiving submissions like these really made me smile. I also appreciate the person ( @noctwa ), who tagged me in a few positivity posts (unfortunately, the Cornies ate the Nugget of Friendship), and the people who message with me (list is a bit too long for tags, but ilu guys).

*As for this cute crew of bitties... WOW!. It’s clear that you put a lot of work into creating all of these different designs, and they turned out great. I absolutely love the pattern you created on the Chain! I can’t believe you made all of the different bitties and then clothes for them too (I mean, I guess they can’t run around naked, but still)!

[bruhstation]

Since we see him every now and then, what is Ryan like in Casa Tidmouth?

ryan works at the harwick branchline with daisy. in the secret of the lost treasure and misty island rescue arcs, ryan is the bystander to thomas' adventures that lead up to his fight with sailor john and skiff, eventually adding to the number of supporting characters that got dragged into both the mystery surrounding the gold dust and the mess thomas has left on sodor. after sailor john got arrested and thomas went missing, ryan helped thomas' friends look for his whereabouts while also being the key witness to sailor john's mad ramblings about "lady of the legend" and his motives for almost blowing up the island. ryan never asked for any of this but because he likes thomas and knows info that other people don't, he just HAS to step in

outside of the plot-heavy stuff, ryan's one of the kinder sudrian railway workers compared to his weirdo coworkers. he considers daisy and thomas to be his closest friends despite the former having the tendency to push her workloads onto him in the past and the latter being a bit standoffish despite ryan's attempts at hospitality.

ryan's extended family, on the other hand...

ryan is connected to the gresleys through his mother. his mother is the daughter of joseph gresley I (the gresleys’ grandfather), so he’s the cousin of gordon, scott, spencer, and mallard. he doesn’t talk to his cousins often ever since he’s a teenager because they’re nutjobs who mostly care about themselves and ryan has self-respect and values his sanity

unlike most his cousins who has the power of hater-ism coursing through their veins, ryan is a perfectly normal man who cares about his friends. he talks about his issues directly instead of letting it simmer. he sometimes have drinks with daisy and thomas after work. he used to have trouble articulating his more “negative” feelings and driving his opinion, but he’s doing better lately. he wants to maintain peace by being kind to others, which makes him prone to being dragged into any weird business his cousins have whenever they have the chance.

whenever holiday season is around the corner, ryan knows exactly what to expect. scott, his most famous cousin, the only one who still GAF about tightening what’s left of the gresleys together, will ask him to come over for dinner with his cousins (his charisma stat is maxed out). ryan can’t refuse because scott will pull excuses like “it’s just once a year” or “there's a dog” and ryan doesn’t have anything else to do. the family party will start off normal, then when mallard brings out the wine (provocateur!!!) things go south. gordon and spencer would badmouth each other about each other's secrets/fails, they get into a fight, scott tries to calm them down, ryan frowns at the disinterested mallard, sighs, goes outside to the nearest telephone booth to call daisy and ask her to pick him up. at this point it’s comical

ryan’s really the opposite of his cousins, from clothing to backstory. when designing him, I took the key components of his cousins’ designs and invert them. his cousins dress lavishly – big coats and suits, but ryan just rolls up his sleeves and dons a vest. his cousins’ haistyles are combed back, gelled, etc, while ryan’s hair goes everywhere (parted bangs show hairline). most of his cousins have horrific trauma related to death and loss from their childhood, while ryan’s just a city boy who grew up with nothing eventful in his life (except attending his cousins’ funerals). he doesn’t even inherit the gresley surname and is oblivious to most of the gossips surrounding or is inside the gresley family.

ryan is his own person who gets thrown around like a volleyball a lot, but he still has a good heart. one can consider ryan to be what any of his cousins would’ve ended up like if they had normal upbringings. who am I kidding? lol

[harbingersecho]

"I FOUND WASHINGTUB!" "... Thanks Caboose. You can put us down now."

my rvb Secret Santa '23 gift for @lordsireno!! Hope you like it and happy holidays

went with the WashBoose + feat of strength prompt!

[corvussnakee]

Hmmm.. Mmmm... Hhmm...hmm.. Mm.. Hmmm~ ♩

What a wonderful day...

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NOTE: Okay- so this is the first time I've ever done something like a ask character type of thingy. Feel free to ask whatever questions you want (keep em mostly PG-13 please...) Or if you want to you could possibly leave some suggestions on how to do an ask blog.. I think that's it? Hrrrhhh, and such. I'm honestly gonna be doing this off the top of my head so uh.. This isn't gonna be like, the greatest? I dunno man.

Man, I spent a good chunk of time drawing Sanses lmao. Not used to drawing this silly skeleton.

[itty-bitty-mess]

TW: BITTYBONES AB//USE, BITTY WHUMP, BITTY T*RT//URE

Pip was a little pygmy lamia and, like almost every individual of his breed, he was quite the ungrateful brat. He had been adopted from the bitty adoption center and then returned by his previous owner who had spoiled him rotten, making him believe he was the most important thing in the world and that everything had to revolve around him. His brattiness had gotten so bad, that his previous owner returned him without a second thought despite the little pygmy’s empty “apologies”, a futile attempt to not lose the luxurious and comfortable lifestyle he had been so accustomed to.

One day, a young woman entered the establishment in looks for a small companion who could add some sort of excitement into her life. Pip’s eyes landed on that woman and he immediately got to work to be as “cute” and “charming” as possible, playing up the “widdle baby” act as much as he could. Trying to charm his way into a new home and back into his beloved comfortable lifestyle. The woman wasn’t entirely convinced on Pip at first, but after a “cute” tantrum full of crying blue tears and puppy dog eyes, she ended up adopting him with a simple shrug.

Pip was over the moon once he arrived to his new home, slithering everywhere, exploring every corner of the small apartment, calling dibs on the places he would soon mark as his property. The woman or, as he began calling her, “Mommy” didnt really seem that bothered by Pip’s behavior. When night arrived, she prepared him a small makeshift bed with an empty shoebox and some tissue paper and socks. Pip straight up refused to sleep in the box, demanding Mommy to let him sleep on her bed instead.

“Eh, im not doing that but if you don’t want the bed then suit yourself” Mommy said with a shrug as she picked up the makeshift bed and put it on the closet. “But I gotta tell you the floor gets really cold at night and I tend to lock my door.” Pip was a little taken aback by her reaction. He had expected her to beg him to sleep on the box, or to comply and let him sleep on her bed. He tried throwing another tantrum, this time trying to be clear about what he wanted.

“WAAAAHH!! BUT MOMMY I DONT WANT A STINKY BOX, I WANNA SLEEP WITH YOU!!!! IM SCARED OF THE DARK!!!!” Pip cried, his fake little tears and screams falling on uncaring, deaf ears.

The woman just shrugged and responded with a “sucks to be you, buddy” and went to her room. Pip followed her and tried slithering as fast as he could to slip into the bedroom before she locked the door but all he managed to do was hit his face straight into the hard metal door. She had entered and immediately locked the door shut, and Pip was way too big to slip through the gap between the door and the floor.

But he wasn’t gonna give up so easily! He started banging on the door nonstop, his tiny gloved hands barely managing to make any noise against the metal door. He tried screaming, directly demanding Mommy to let him in immediately. But what Pip didn’t know was that she was wearing sound proof headphones, allowing her to have a good night’s sleep. He ended up sleeping on the cold, hard floor, trembling and shaking with tears of rage in his eyes. This wasn’t over yet, he was gonna make Mommy’s life a living nightmare and she would have no option but to treat him like the king he was.

From that day onwards, Pip tried almost every trick on the book to make Mommy do what he wanted. He started pissing and pooping on her clothes to “teach her a lesson”, but she simply shrugged and said “Cool, I was gonna throw those old rags away anyways”. Whenever she fed him “cheap and disgusting” Bitty Kibble, he would throw the little food bowl back at her but his aim was so pathetic that he barely managed to flip the bowl. He tried stealing her food which only caused him severe food poisoning because the idiot stole and ate a moldy piece of bread that was many years past its expiration date.

He demanded Mommy to buy him a control remote car and other expensive toys but she just threw a crumpled paper ball on his direction as said “There, play with that instead lol”. He threw constant tantrums but she completely ignored him or just didn’t seem to care enough. Even when he had planned on scratching or biting her, his pathetic and useless little fangs and his weak little “claws” did absolutely no damage

He even tried stealing Mommy’s phone and trying to break up with her boyfriend through text. However, the boyfriend could tell that wasn’t how his girlfriend texted, he could tell that it was Pip by the terrible grammar and childish word usage so he sent Pip graphic images of bitty gore which deeply traumatised him. He told Mommy about this, hoping that maybe she would craddle him on her arms to comfort him but all she did was laugh at him. Pip felt humiliated, he couldnt believe she didn’t even comfort him or tried to pamper him after such a horrible thing!

Tears welled up in his little eyes and he went to the corner to fake cry again, looking behind his back every few minutes hoping to see Mommy looking back at him with a guilty expression, but all he saw was she had left for work again. This wasn’t fair! How could Mommy not care about him! He was Pip, the great and magnificet pygmy! The most specialest lamia of all, who deserved all the love and attention in the world!

Pip suddenly got an idea, he was gonna go to Mommy’s workplace and demand her, in front of everyone, to give him what he wanted, like fancy human food, expensive toys, a shiny new bandana and to let him sleep on her bed! Mommy could sleep on the floor if she wanted! Perhaps he could even make up some lies about him being “abused” and “neglected” to ruin her reputation with her colleagues. Yes! That was a great idea! Mommy would surely listen to him if he isolated her from everyone! Pip was sooooo smart!

Pip spent the entire night planning how he would take his plan into action. The next day, when Mommy left for work once again, he swiftly slipped through the closing gap of the door, trying to no be seen by her. Then, he silently slipped into her car and hid there, standing as still and silent as possible while she drove. Then she finally arrived to her workplace and entered the huge, shiny office building. Oh, this was Pip’s chance! This was gonna be so good!

He got off the car and slithered around, following silently behind Mommy, he was waiting for the perfect oportunity to strike and humiliate her. However, as they entered the building, Pip was immediately greeted with a massive crowd of people walking in all directions like busy bees in a hive. It was overwhelming and loud for the little lamia and, in a moment of disorientation, he lost sight of Mommy!

He panicked and looked in all directions, slithering through the squeaky clean, polished floor and trying his best to dodge the passerby. He tried screaming and calling out to Mommy, surely she would hear him and go to his rescue! Mommy would never abandon such an important lamia like Pip! Surely Mommy would show up and sweep the little lamia in her arms and take him to a warm and cozy bed full of toys and yummy food like he deserved!

However, his squeaky little yells were drowned out by the constant noise of the office building. People calling out each other’s names, machines working and beeping nonstop, loud clicking of keyboards, etc. All louder than Pip’s weak little voice. Pip tried moving through the crowd, and soon he spotted a stranger who had stopped walking to watch their phone. He got an idea and tried making a “cute” teary eyed expression as he approached the stranger, knowing that his cuteness would be enough to capture the stranger’s attention and get them to help him.

“UM.. EXCUSE ME, IM WOST AND TOO WIDDLE TO MOVE THROUGH THIS CWOWD. CAN YOU HELP ME FIND MY MOMMY PWEASE?” Pip said, pouting and about to start fake crying again. But the stranger didnt seem to hear him. Instead, they started to walk back to their office.

“WH- UM, EXCUSE ME?? HELLO??? DID YOU EVEN HEAR ME???? IM A WIDDLE LAMIA AND I NEED HELP!!! ARE YOU DEAF?? HEWWO!!!” Pip yelled, the baby act completely dropped as he was ignored. He was extremely angry so he raised his voice, damaging his throat a little but continuing regardless. “I AM PIP, THE GREATEST AND MOST IMPORTANT PYGMY IN THE WORLD!! HOW CAN YOU NOT HEAR-“

And then another person immediately walked by and “unintentionally” kicked Pip on the rib, breaking it and sending him flying all the way across the lobby, making him hit his head against the marble floor. Pip laid there against the wall, in too much pain and complete shock, trying to process what had happened. Never in his life had Pip gotten harmed before, his previous owner was always so careful and caring, making sure he was always safe and protected. He had never known pain until that moment.

Little blue tears fell from Pip’s eyes, the difference this time was that they were genuine and not fake. He wanted to go back to his first home, where his owner gave him a whole human king-sized bed just for him. Where Pip could cheerfully slither across the long table full of all kinds of delicious food and pick what he wanted whenever he wanted. Where Pip had an entire miniature theme park just for him to play in. He regretted being so ungrateful, he regretted pissing and pooping everywhere to get his previous owner’s attention, he regretted rippin apart his previous owner’s nice chairs and couches whenever he threw a tantrum, he regretted interrupting others and yelling and manipulating his previous owner to get his way, he regretted insulting his previous owner multiple times and calling them horrible things.

Pip started crying, sobbing even. He regretted everything he did and how much of an unbearable brat he had been. He wanted his comfortable life back. He wanted to feel pampered and like the center of everything again. He tried screaming, calling out to Mommy again, he desperately needed her to hold him or at least pat his back or something. But nothing happened. So despite the pain of his now cracked skull and broken rib, Pip pushed himself up and tried slithering around again. Calling out to Mommy and crying non stop, not caring about the ammount of snot that now dripped from his nose cavity.

As he slithered around, Pip didn’t watch where he was going and another person walked by and harmed him. This time, they stepped on his tail, causing the internal tail bone to shatter and the ecto-flesh to rip open, beginning to bleed. Pip let out a loud, ear piercing scream, hugging his tail in pain as he curled up into a fetal position. Then another person walked by and kicked Pip once again, the force of the kick itself caused another couple of ribs to break. Pip could not stop screaming, the pain was too unbearable for him.

Even with his damaged tail, Pip tried dragging his body across the floor, trying to escape the crowd. But another pair of seemingly giant feet crushed his little arms. “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!”. He screeched, but the person responsible for it kept walking as if nothing had happened. He tried using his body and his tail to push himself forward but another couple of people walked by, kicking him around between them as if he was a pingpong ball. Every time he tried getting out of the crowd, people would suddenly walk by and either step on him or kick him back to the center of it all. Tears fell from his eyes as he recieved another kick, then another, and so on.

He cried, he screamed, he yelled as loud as he could. Maybe if he was loud enough, people would realize he was there and maybe even help him. But no, nobody cared and they continued on with their day. Now, compared to the treatment he was used to, Pip felt insignificant. He was no longer “The Great and Amazing Pip, The Specialest Pygmy Of The Entire World!”, he was just a worthless little thing, lost in an office building, getting kicked around as if he was nothing but trash.

Finally, Pip caught a glimpse of Mommy in the distance, she was talking with another woman as she held a cup of coffee and a clipboard. Tears of joy formed on Pip’s eyes. Maybe this nightmare would finally be over! Maybe if he screamed loud enough, Mommy would recognize his voice and immediately go to his rescue!

With anticipation and hope in his eyes, Pip took a huge chunk of air and prepared to let out the yell of his life. But life had other plans as a woman walked in. She was wearing tall heels, clicking and clacking against the floor. Without a care in the world, she walked by and interrupted Pip mid-yell as she stepped on his spine. Pip felt the sharpest and strongest pain of his life coursing through his entire body. He wanted to screech in pain but he couldn’t, he couldn’t talk, he couldn’t scream, he couldn’t move the lower half of his body…

Tears fell from his eyes, panic surged through his body as he saw Mommy about to ride the elevator. He used his broken arms and tried dragging himself in her direction with all the strength he had left despite the immense, agonizing pain he felt.

“MoMmy- Mo- ahk! moMmy! hElp mE! It hUrtS.. HURTS! HELP! MO-“ but Pip couldn’t even finish his sentence as a floor scrubber passed by. Polishing and sweeping the floor and picking up Pip along the way. The little pygmy was trapped alongside the dust and trash. Pip could feel everything despite being unable to move. He felt his tiny little body being ripped apart and crushed piece by piece. His arms were first, then his tail, then finally his torso and head detached and nothing but dusty, bloody remains mixed with garbage and dirt were left.

When Mommy returned home that afternoon, she didn’t seem surprised that Pip was nowhere to be found. Instead of panicking or worrying, Mommy just shrugged and started to put away the groceries. Maybe Pip had slipped out and died as he fell from the window, or a stray cat got inside and ripped him apart. Whatever had happened to Pip, Mommy didn’t really care, she had better things to do and she had already been considering returning Pip back to the adoption center anyways.

And so, with another bitty gone, life on the big city continued, for nobody would care about an insignificant and worthless little bitty.

The End.

[thechaosgods]

Make a tiny Romeo Blue, I beg you, they're all so adorable

Teeny Tiny Romeo Blue for your problems?

@whoistrash Could you watch him for a little? He’s very small, and very sweet

[maihiddenbeauty]

Since I received my lastest Sans merch from @theskeletongames yesterday I wanted to show off all of my Undertale merchandise.... and no I don't think this is to many keychains for something I only learned about last year 😅 The Sans & Papyrus double keychains are from SpookyBooStudio and the hanging Sans & Papyrus are from SEGAMew both on Etsy. And the adorable Sans plushie I got from my boyfriend last year for Christmas. Nothing like trying to explain to my poor mother that yes I love all of these skeletons and no they are not dead they are skeleton monsters.

[deivorous]

thinking about grimmjow all dressed up for the barbie movie

[everykillerbee]

[arrow-guy]

Good morning, at 5:00 am I found out that Bear in the Big Blue House is on Disney+ and burst into tears

[blue-jester]

Sims 4 is free on steam todayyy

[tteokdoroki]

ೀ⋆OCT 1ST PRINCESS DIARIES ━━ satoru gojo + breeding !

୨୧ — caution, you are now watching. satoru gojo + breeding. thirty days until you become queen, thirty days to get married and thirty days to stop sneaking around with the man trying to steal your crown… (5.2K)

୨୧ — rated r. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact ! nsfw, heavy smut, royalty!au, enemies to lovers (?), forbidden romance, infidelity and cheating, spit kink, breeding kink, daddy kink, pregnancy kink, breast play, agoraphilia, baby trapping, oral sex (f!recieving), unprotected sex, princess + fem!reader, lord!satoru gojo.

୨୧ — director’s note. woo happy spooky season my loves. welcome back to another tteokdoroki kinktober! im excited for you to see whats in store this year, hope you enjoy this fic to start off mwah! - m.list ⋆ kinktober m.list ⋆ taglist ✧

you have thirty days to get married.

being from a small town, somewhere that’s not even on the map — you never expected your family name to carry much meaning aside from the one you carved out for yourself. let alone expect your name to come from royalty.

if you thought discovering how to be a teenager at sixteen was hard, then try discovering how to be a princess at sixteen on for size. everything you’ve ever done since finding out you were royalty has been for your family. you’ve kept your head down, out of the spotlight aside for the occasional appearance and charitable events. you’ve studied hard, double-majoring in international relations alongside political science and diplomacy. 

you’ve prepared yourself thoroughly enough to feel ready to take the mantle of queen — especially with your grandmother planning to step down. all of your accomplishments have been leading up to this very moment — it’s so close that you can practically feel the weight of the crown on your head. 

except there’s one itty, bitty, little problem.

you still have to get married in thirty days. otherwise, your family title will be poached from right beneath your nose.

satoru gojo (aka public enemy number one) is the nephew of a member of parliament who just so conveniently knows genovian law better than your grandmother does. since satoru came of age before you did, and he’s lived in genovia for longer than you have, and has some random distant relative in connection to the first king — the men of parliament have decided that he too is in line for the throne. 

especially if you, the princess, do not marry before your coronation. 

how ridiculous is that? 

and not only is this satoru gojo an evil, conniving, crown-stealing bastard. but he’s charming, a silver tongue wrapped around each and every one of his words. charming, like a prince (blegh) he’s also stupidly attractive. with deep sapphire blue eyes that are gorgeous enough to make the crown jewellers weak in the knees and a smile so sweet it feels like a sugar rush whenever he looks at you. there’s something so unique about the frostiness to his soft white hair, matching his unfairly long lashes — the ones you know girls back home would kill for. 

it angers you to know that you’d been dancing with your rival at your welcome ball, pains you to know that you’ll never forget his slender fingers splayed out against the small of your back to guide your every movement. if you had been back in college (and had a few litres of hard liquor in your system), perhaps gojo would have been the type of guy you’d have snuck into the dorms for a night of fun and an NDA in the morning — your secret signed away from the paparazzi’s keen eyes. 

alas, these are very different circumstances and there’s a lot riding on you being sensible about the situation. yet, satoru proves himself to be a problem every chance that he gets — cornering you in closets with his breath hot against your ear, trapping you against the walls while the ghost of his touch feels like heaven against your skin… on the staircase too, insistent on reminding you of the passionate dance you once shared.

all while you’re set to marry the duke of another country so you can keep your fucking crown (pardon the language, your highness).

suguru geto would be the perfect king consort if you managed not to mess this up. he is warm, where satoru is a flip between disastrously hot and frustratingly cold. he balances you out, a mellowness to your clumsiness whilst understanding your need for a rushed proposal and wedding. raised a gentleman, suguru is mindful of you in every action he takes. he doesn’t stare too long but smiles when you think he’s not looking and he’s a wonder with your grandmother — the parents, too. his family gem (a serpentine, making you feel much like a snake) sits heavy on your ring finger, dazzling under camera flashes at your engagement dinner…. and he recognises duty and honour above anything else too. 

if satoru is your enemy, then guilt is your friend. no matter what either of the men in your life do, you find yourself comparing their every move. when you’re with suguru your mind is away chasing the fairies, imagining the touch of another man who sets your heart alight in a cool blaze — like gasoline trickling through your veins waiting for its candle match. when you’re with satoru, all you can think about is how wrong this is. how geto doesn’t deserve this. but you’re an addict without a cure, and your drug is satoru gojo and you don’t see yourself ever  quitting him.

you're in desperate need of a wake up call and a nicotine patch, the cocky yet lecherous air about him almost acting like a smog in your healthy and capable lungs. sometimes through the fog, you wonder if satoru knows how much he weighs heavy on your mind— though if he did, you’d never hear the end of it. 

the current queen tells you not to worry about the white haired man that’s slowly freezing over the four chambers of your heart. you tell yourself that suguru geto is the only man that you need, one that could help you rule and create a beautiful and better kingdom for many years to come. geto tells you that he loves you, that he can’t wait to marry you in two or three weeks time and you respond with equal (yet, faux) excitement.

perhaps that’s why you find yourself sneaking away from this respectful, loving man to be with the one trying to ruin your life?

why are you following satoru gojo deep into the royal gardens, where the rose bushes are the only witness to your sick and twisted sins?

your back hits the jagged pattern of tree bark before your brain can catch up — causing a little wet whimper to bubble up on your pinky-peach tainted lips. the flutter of pain just beneath your skin only lasts for a second before it’s replaced by the sensation of satoru’s fingers traversing up the dips and curves of your body. he soothes you where it hurts the most, rough fingertips leaving bruising marks made with affection along your thighs and small of your back while he swallows your sweet gasps — licking into the wet cavern of your mouth to taste you. 

“you’re not even…” his words spill into you, adding fuel to the spark of lust beginning to form a pit in your stomach. “you’re not even attracted to him,” he spews, surging forward like a storm knocking on your door to press his greedy spit slicked lips to yours. his tongue, syrupy and wet, intertwined with your own, filling you up and giving you something to suck on. 

before you can even think of kissing your rival back, he retreats and takes his swollen lips with him — latching onto your neck and weaponizing his teeth against it. you gasp, your angel’s song tipping out into the rose garden while your fingers tangle in silver-moon locks and let him work against you, claiming you just below the neckline of your dress where no one will be able to see. 

except for maybe your fiancé and only god knows how you’ll be able to explain the marks to him tonight. ‘oh you know me, suguru. i’m way too clumsy for my own good.’ you’ll say, all while thinking about how the man after your crown blew your back out at your engagement party. 

you know why satoru’s acting such a fool — taking risks that he wouldn’t normally. the dress you’re wearing, the colour of his eyes, drives him fucking insane. you can’t say that you didn’t ask for this, like it wasn’t on purpose. 

“can’t fucking stand you,” gojo groans against your skin, nose pressed to your collarbone as he inhales the candied notes of your perfume. “been giving me those angel eyes all day. knowing that i can’t take my fucking eyes off of you when you wear that colour, princess.” 

he’s insufferable, but here you find yourself at the mercy of his touch — offering up your body to satoru gojo like a sacrificial lamb as your back arches away from the tree and presses your chest into his eager strawberry tongue. it leaves a slimy track over your neck and dips between the cleavage of your dress while gojo makes his descent down to hell — tasting the shimmering crystals of salt on your skin. 

satoru gojo belongs on his knees. 

kneeling before you with the royal blue tule of your dress between his shaking hands. you can tell he’s trying not to rip it off of you. born to worship you.  mirth weighs down his lashes and desire dances between the navy blue flecks in his sapphire eyes — he needs you so bad it might kill him. from this position he can practically smell how turned on you are, he’d recognise the mouth-watering aroma of your drooling cunt anywhere, slick gathering in the crotch of your barely there panties. 

there’s a depraved, royal treasure hidden between the string of fabric that runs between your juicy pussy lips — swollen and waiting to be devoured by your enemy. not that you’d ever admit that to him. “i think you should be referring to me as your queen.” you manage between ragged breaths, satoru eyeing the way your chest heaves from beneath the bust of your dress. 

instead of responding, his head unceremoniously dips beneath your skirts and he drags a thigh over the width of his broad shoulders. “watch your mouth,” the lord purrs salaciously as he licks up your inner thigh, the vibrations shooting straight to your swollen clit. “let’s remind you of who’s really in charge.” the both of you feel it, the aching throb of your pussy against gojo’s lips as he wedges his face right between your thighs. you can’t help but grind against him in wanton, desperate to be filled up with fingers, tongue whatever your sworn enemy has to offer up to the crown. 

but your warmth and wetness does nothing to coax satoru into tongue fucking his way past your clenching, creaming entrance. rather, he draws his head back just a touch and rubs at your cunt like he loves you, dips his fingers just into your quivering hole and then — smack !

juices run down satoru’s arms as if he’s taken a bite into the fruit that tempted eve while he laughs in awe of just how fucking sloppy you are between your thighs. the spank to your puffy folds makes you jolt in surprise, causing you to scratch your back against the jagged tree bark. 

“gojo!” you squeak in warning as your thighs close around his veiny hand. 

he sticks his tongue into his cheek, smirking in amusement before prying your shaky legs apart. “that’s not quite right, try again for me, princess...” gojo repeats the process, running between your slick folds and spanking you against them when you fail to respond. “you know my name, baby. c’mon it’s easy, i’ll even say it with you. d…d…” 

you refuse to stoop so low, to let demeaning words escape from underneath your tongue but not having satoru’s mouth on you is like torture — just his breath against your cunt is akin to dangling a carrot in front of a starving horse. you know what that pleasure is like, you crave it and you’re not above begging no matter how royal you may be. 

“f-fuck, daddy!” you whinge defiantly, screwing your eyes shut and letting your head fall back against the tree. satoru wastes no more time then, slotting his hot mouth against the entire length of your silken slit. the first thing he does is moan, the vibrations shooting twinges of ecstasy from your clit through the rest of your body and even reaching your head — making the world around you spin. 

the tip of his tongue teases its way past your entrance, squirming around to brush up against pleasure spots your little fingers can’t even reach. “that’s right princess, knew you could do it. you’re not just some stuck up little girl.” the white haired lord praises, drawing back from your quivering hole — connected to you by a string of your glistening slick. 

“shut up, just… put your mouth to good use.” you grunt, your hips canterint down onto gojo’s face to keep him quiet. your fingers take root in his silvery moon locks, dragging the man and his pink tongue onto your sex once more. gojo takes the hint, making your cute little clit his next victim as he rolls it between perfect rows of pearly whites and sends your eyes into the dark depths of your skull. 

the sinful and salacious sensation provides a welcomed distraction from your responsibilities as the crown princess. if your grandmother could see you now, you know that all she’d feel is disappointment— especially if she knew her granddaughter was fucking the biggest threat to the crown. and suguru, your poor fiancé — he was probably stuck mingling with guests he didn’t even know, looking for your eyes in the crowd like he always did. 

shame should be burning through your veins, not the white hot trickle of desire that you’re filled with as satoru slurps your juices from between your fat pussy lips. the needy groans he lets out against you inch down your spine, drown you in stormy waves of lust and you find yourself addicted to the bob of gojo’s head from underneath your tule skirts. you’re just so wet, pouring the royal family’s riches, liquid gold straight into the man’s greedy mouth as he drinks you in.

your nectar glazes his cheeks and chin in a devilish shine, brighter than the crown set to sit atop your head — his mouth barely parts from your ravaged and swollen romping as if he’s married to eating you out, tongue licking you up and down before your juices even have a chance to drip to the ground. you can only imagine what would happen if the press found out, your life would be over and so would satoru’s. but you don’t care, because every second that gojo spends between your thighs dragging you to orgasm is worth it. every single time. 

he grips at your ass, pulling you back onto his tongue as it flickers in and out of you. the whole ordeal is disgusting and delightful and you never want it to end. pleasure mounts high within you, evident in the shakiness of your gripes and grouses, lust laden in its tune. 

“s-satoru…satoru. i’m gonna… g’na fuckin’ cum!” a high pitch squeal tears in your throat like music to gojo’s ears — now working relentlessly to get you off just like you need. he doesn’t care if he’s suffocating, at least he’ll die a happy man between the thighs of a princess. 

he chuckles against your sex. “such a dirty mouth for such a proper lady.” the lord says as if he’s a scolding you.

but you can barely hear him, for static rings in your ears as your body loses the war to your orgasm. your release bubbles up on his tongue like the fresh pop of champagne, while your brain fizzles and clears itself of all logical thought. guilt is replaced by bouts of lust, making you realise that this cycle of avoiding and fucking gojo will never end. you’re too addicted to him and he’s too obsessed with you, as long as things remain that way — sex with him will always be on the agenda. 

you can’t promise yourself, your grandmother or suguru that this will be the last time. 

dopamine dances across gojo’s brain as he drinks in the tangy-honey flavour of your release, letting it splatter against his puffy lips as they encircle your clit to prolong your orgasm. you gush as if you’re a rushing erotic river, spilling into satoru’s earnest mouth while he licks you clean with wanton.

“look at that… oh look at you. cumming for me already.” 

“f-fuck you.”

“fuck me?” he smirks, making your gut lurch with wanton. “fuck you. i’m the one that’s working on it, princess.” satoru slowly rises to his feet, licking a nasty spit-slicked trail from your hole to the cleavage peeking out from underneath your dress. he doesn’t even stand to his full height, his large frame towering over you as he yanks down the front of your dress to lick and suck and play with your breasts until you can’t tell what’s up or down anymore.

his perfect teeth graze a pert nipple which makes you gasp and cry, loosely looping your arms around satoru’s neck while his ravaging mouth works your sensitive breasts, even going as far to swipe his tongue over the spot where each one meets your ribcage. he doesn’t leave any marks, you’re not his to keep. large and rough hands replace the warmth of his mouth on you to toy with your mounds of flesh — pinching and pulling as satoru kisses you senseless. you groan at the taste of your slick on his tongue and salt of your skin as well, tugging him closer so that there’s no space between your heated bodies. 

“don’t cry,” satoru comments softly against your swollen, cherry-bitten lips — cupping your face between his fingers. blinking slowly, you allow your frenzied brain the chance to catch up to reality  and you don’t realise the tears that wet your cheeks until he points them out. why are you even crying? “you’re too pretty for that.” his compliments do nothing to clear the lustful, confused fog settling over your mind like a dark cloud so you follow your body’s instincts and reach for the metal clasp on his belt. 

nimble fingers make their way down the front of gojo’s dress pants and he hisses at the quick pumps of his perfectly hard cock before you’re dragging up your skirts and guiding him towards your entrance. “baby, wait—“

you push his pants down enough to let his erection spring free, pulsing with need and standing at full mast against the cotton blouse covering his tummy. “i need you.” you sniff, dropping your panties to your ankles. “please.” 

the thing about sex with satoru is that it never feels like just sex. he tenderly hikes the meat of your thigh over his slender hips, lets his dribbly, sticky cockhead twitch forward and ease past the salaciously slick barriers of your empty hole, and presses your bodies so close together that you think you might forget how to breathe. satoru makes love to you each and every time — and it’s terrible. 

like eating too much sugar or indulging in a bad smoking habit. you’re not supposed to be in love with him and the way he fucks up into you, chest to chest, pelvis to pelvis even with all of the fabric in the way. “don’t cry for him, f-fuck,” the both of you look down, your pupils dilating at the sight of your pussy swallowing his lengthy shaft whole — catching on the ridges of each blue vein spiralling around him. “cry for me, princess. i’m the one that’s ruining you.” 

with his forehead pressed to yours, silver hair matted down by the line of perspiration against it — satoru braces a hand against the tree above your head and sets stream to his passionate thrusts, fluid like water under a bridge. it’s not fair, how wrong this is and how good it feels to have gojo lick over the parts of you he would bite down on if you were his. your pulse point, your neck, the spot just under your ear that’s way too sensitive for your own good. it should be suguru fucking you like this, your fiancé. 

yet, there’s no room for self-loathing and despair between the rough tree and satoru gojo above you. nothing aside for the thick curtain of lust that protects you from prying eyes in the rose garden, floral scents twisting with the raw, aphrodisiac-like smell of sex and sweat while he pounds away at your swollen pussy, grinding his cock wetly against the sweet spots dotted along your ribbed walls. 

“i should put a baby in you,” he says suddenly, just barely audible over the wet pap, pap, pap of your sexes working together. embarrassment burns bright under the surface of your cheeks because you’re that wet and it’s that loud, the remainders of your previous orgasm making it easier for satoru’s cock to glide in and out of you. “leave you with a little gift. a present — reminder of our time together, yeah?” he knows that he’s not making any sense, leaving his confession behind sex and sultry words. he would never admit to how much he loves you, he’s already ruined you enough. he’s already taken more than enough from you too. “i’ll get to the crown either fuckin’ way.” 

satoru talks with his dick and you fucking like it, squeezing the damn daylights out of him. he can barely pull back with you locked down on like that, his seedy tip snug between your ruined folds — clinging into him by viscous ropes of your last orgasm and freshly formed globs of his white hot precum. “you like that, don’t you princess?” he coos down to you condescendingly, picking up the pace of his hips as he rams into you mercilessly. the tree shakes from the force, sprinkling pretty and innocent petals over you both. “you wanna make me a daddy? my queen? give me a little prince or princess.”

“fuck yes, satoru!” nodding your head with wanton, you press yourself into his neck and squeeze him close by the ass cheeks so the only place your lover can go is deeper. you want to be able to feel him in your guts, hot in your womb like an iron rod — anything to forget the trickle of betrayal filling you up like a glass of wine. “i want it, i want it…i want—“

you cut yourself of with an abrasive sob, as you moan your agreements. i want you. you feel the words on the tip of your tongue, drowned out by the slippery sounds of sex and creaking tree trunk. you’ve never wanted anyone as much as you’ve wanted satoru gojo.

but he’s the wrong person, in the wrong place, at the wrong time. 

“i know you do, i know,” you can feel gojo move to slobber over your chest, pacifying his whistle tone whimpers with your nipples bouncing in his mouth. he looks up at you with vacant cerulean eyes that shimmer like the skies above, the crude mix of your arousals slinging at the point at which your bodies join. “tell me how much you love daddy’s cock, princess.” 

he goads because he craves your attention. satoru can feel you slipping from between his fingers, the guilt that rolls off of you in waves as he languidly rams into your cunt. he’s asking a lot of someone who’s too stimulated, too fucked out to speak — your tongue barely staying in your mouth. 

“sato—!”

“c’mon… answer me, fuck, there we go.”

that’s when he hikes you up in his arms, lifting you a little to feverishly thrust up into you — dragging you closer to another high. your nails dig deep into his taut ass, nudging his dick against your g-spot. suguru would never be this rough with you, would never want to fuck you so good that the pleasure hurts.

shaking your head, your eyes glisten but the denial doesn’t stop small streams of arousal from squirting out and webbing against gojo’s soft pubes. “i-i can’t! i don’t—“ satoru bites down on your nipple, hard, cutting through your train of blurry thought. “i love…h-him!” 

you love your fiancé, but you both know that’s a lie.

“yeah, sure you do. that’s why your pussy’s huggin’ my cock so tight. you don’t wanna let me go, baby.” even while he’s a mess for you, your rival still finds it in him to be such an egotistical prick. you can’t even tell him that he’s wrong, because you never ever want to be without satoru, without this immensely overwhelming feeling of ecstasy fluttering through your entire body. it’s all too much, he’s too much, stretching you wide and filling you with the love (and cum) you should be getting from suguru. 

thunder cracks above your head, lightning flashes through the trees as if the higher power up above is bearing witness — growing distraught at your sins. it’s not long before the heavens open up on you both and your sweaty, sex slicked bodies are doused in rain. but it doesn’t stop you, doesn’t stop satoru from dragging down your bottom lip to lovingly spit into your mouth. 

he kisses you as if it’s not enough, rocking his hips into you so he can bully your insides and mark them with his pre. “bet he’s lookin’ for you right now, hm? his precious wife to be…drenched in my cum ‘n drenched in the rain.” satoru heaves, letting the patter of the rain drown out the sound of his tightening balls slapping against your ass. “bet he wishes he could fuck you like i do.” 

you can’t tell if it’s the tears of guilt and longing or the rain that blurs your vision. “h-he doesn’t get to!” you cry like a dirty porn-star, hardly becoming of a soon to be queen. “o-only you!” 

“only me, hm? i’m flattered.” he seems elated, hiding his flushed face and happy smile in the junction between your neck and shoulder. his wet hair tickles your skin. “too bad he doesn’t know his princess comes used and abused between her pretty legs, huh?”

the rain is cold against your skin, seeping through your clothes, ruining your makeup — but the way satoru licks up your hot streaky tears and the droplets of water against your skin as if to sooth you… the way he does it fills you with warmth. 

your limbs become heavy from your water-logged clothes and exhaustion, your whole body slumped against satoru’s strength but you still manage to rake your nails down his back as if you can’t be any closer. gojo doesn’t let your hips run from his either.  his mind races, stuck on the idea of asking you to run away with him because he can’t just let you go back to geto. not again. 

he can’t let you marry someone you’re not in love with. 

it would be selfish of him to ask you to stay, even when you wrap your legs around him and have him plug up your tiny little hole with sticky white. he sees it in your eyes how much you care for him, even through the rain. he’s ruining you, from the inside out, knocking the crown from your head and he hates it.

“daddy loves this pussy,” he wishes for the moment to last forever, but you’re already so close — crying from every hole, suffocating his throbbing cock. neither of you can hold back. “he loves you. i love you.”

the confession nearly tears your world in two — but it’s all you need to hear before everything comes crashing down on you. “i-i love you!” you tell him, wailing the words loud and proud as you release on him for a second time, gushing obscene amounts against gojo’s tummy smooshed up on your clit. “sato—! satoru! cum with me, cum inside me!” scratching down his back and screwing your eyes shut, you tilt your head up to capture his lips in a passionate kiss. 

the taste of salt on your cupid’s bow throws gojo over the edge too — his cockhead pours viscous white directly into your womb. “fuuuck, you’re so good princess…” and even though you know you should tell him to pull out, you don’t want him too. you want his baby, want his cum, want him always. even if that’s greedy of you.“fuckin’ take it…take all of me. all of that cum’s for you.” he slurs, beyond brainless.

lewd clapping noises echo between your bodies like the thunder up above as satoru fucks you through the rest of your highs, nose nudging your cheeks tenderly to soothe your tears. moaning, and crying against one another’s swollen lip. when his slow grinds come to a stop and your breathing recovers, the white haired lord gently sets you back in the ground — tenderly helping you to fix your drenched clothes back into place. 

your thighs are completely bruised and his back is completely torn up. the last marks you’ll ever leave with each other.

“so about—“

“we… we can’t do this anymore, satoru.” you say almost immediately, shaky as if you’re in the verge of panic. 

for the first time since you started doing this, sneaking off with one another, gojo notices the glint  on your ring finger. and you feel the very same weight of that ring. 

he shrugs you off, pulling up his pants and smirking. “that’s what you said last time—

“no satoru, i mean it now. we can’t.” it’s like you’ve come to your senses, realised the gravity of it all and what’s at stake. thirty days to get married, thirty days to become queen. “i’m going to become queen, your queen, in a matter of weeks and to do that i need to be married to him. i can’t mess this up. we have to stop.”

“but you don’t even want him,” he growls like a petulant child, roaring above the rain that cascades down on you both. “you want me. i want you. who gives a fuck about anything else?”

“duty gives a fuck! i have to marry him!”

throwing his hands up in defeat, satoru steps towards you, loud and intimidating, and you step back towards the tree. “you can’t even say his fucking name.” 

“his name is suguru geto and i will marry him because you forced me to.” you spit, going toe to toe with him — chest heaving but tight from your heart break. “if you and your stupid higher ups had just stayed out my way. maybe there could have been a chance for us. but they didn’t and here we are and duty freaking calls, gojo.” 

you storm off shortly after, be before he can see you cry again (for real this time). from his place hidden in the royal gardens, gojo watches sullenly as you approach your grandmother and fiancé — the elder queen disappointed in your current state and suguru clearly worried that the rain might make you catch a cold. 

the perfect alibi to cover up the fact that you’d just fucked satoru gojo. 

but the entire time, you never look back. 

you don’t even look at gojo — and  that’s how he knows you meant it. you always look back, always look for him in the crowd. 

the knowledge hits him like a strike of lightning. he’s royally fucked up — you’re marrying for the crown, all because of him. and there’s no room for loving when you’ve got the weight of the nation on your shoulders.

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[jaegersol]

thinking about grimmjow all dressed up for the barbie movie

[cute-sucker]

now you knew that rafe was trouble, that wasn't the issue.

 yet you liked the way he always seemed to know what you wanted. the bag you had been looking at for ages? yours. the cute puppy you always had wanted? yours. did you want that small top in every colour of the shade of pink? yours. 

you liked the way he treated you. as if you were his little bunny, and you acted the part, coming to his office for his lunch, his heavy hand on your mini-skirt, and his hot breath fanning over your shoulder. you would beam at him, and he would smile smugly at you. people would sometimes look over to see you, a cute girl in his domineering stance.  

this was the dream life. he got what he wanted, a nice life with a nice girl. you were wife material, no you were dream girl material. you didn't care that he was a bit mean, or that he would get in your face sometimes. no, he was your dream man. 

after all, everything that he did was for you. the last time you had gotten in trouble with him, which ended up in a scuffle at a bar when a guy looked at you for too long. rafe hadn't asked you to change your outfits - some guys would have, after all, you were wearing a skimpy dress that bunched up at your thighs, and boosted your chest - no, rafe had simply told him to fuck off and to get some manners.

then he had told you to go to the car so he would deal with it. he had come back with blood splattered on his white shirt and a bruised hand. you had felt so bad for him, slowly reaching to hold his hand. sometimes he would brush you off at times like this, but instead, he let out a harsh breath, and let you hold his hand. 

when the two of you reached your house, he had parked the truck to a stop, his steely blue eyes searching yours. his hands cupped your chin, and you felt your heart skip a beat, as you desperately gazed into his eyes "y'know 'm doing this for you? being proactive. being your man. it's what you deserve," 

that had scared you, but you willed yourself to be stronger and nodded eagerly. it was what you deserved. 

as a kook, a trust fund baby, you knew you were going to get handed off to some man, some ravenous man that would take your body as your worth. when your father had told you that rafe cameron was going to be that fine man- you had cried for weeks on end before your blind date. 

your friends had told you he was a hottie, sure but one with a cruel facade. he blew past girls like a chain-smoker would to a pack of cigs. he had that frat boy feeling, and he was older. not too old, but enough for you to feel like a kid compared him. and now here the two of you were, tethering on the line of being engaged and you were scared? sometimes you would stand by the edge of the country club's pool to watch him laugh and scour the area for girls. you would always hide before his eyes reached yours.

but now you couldn't reject him. 

so, you forgot about that time. blocked it out. instead, you decided to throw a party with your girls, stems of cherries in your mouth, and a sweet facade laid out for you. your girls were linda and marry anne. you were the hostess, handing out the drinks, and trying to make sure everyone was happy.

finally, when things calmed down, you found yourself lying by the pool while mary anne recounted her story with the pool boy. the sun felt nice on your skin, as you felt yourself relax. 

marry anne giggled, nails sparking in the light, her bikini top itty bitty as she shimmered closer, "i don't know what to think of him. he's so innocent. nothing like the men we have to cater to. i liked it." then she blushed, "what! stop, don't give me that look."  

linda bit the straw of her drink, and shook her head, "you know what, i don't think the men are a drag, i mean c'mon you know she," linda murmured out dainty finger point at you, "she's had her fair share of men. and now rafe! how nice," she swooned fixing her blond curls.  

it was here that the two of them traded a look. a look that was unwelcome.  

you felt your eyebrows furrow, as you wiggled out of your position, and gave both of them a confused look, "what about him?" 

suddenly things went dead silent, as linda let out a sharp giggle, almost uncomfortable. you felt the hairs on your arm stick up, "guys! what about him?" now you were demanding, as marry anne gave you a pointed look, as linda continued to shake out her hair. 

"okay. well i think he's kinda of a dick? like remember that shit he pulled on in new years?"

you shook your head, sighing, "i thought you guys got over that." 

"he got mad at you trying to kiss a guy for new years! he was practically having sex with that disgusting girl down by the bay." linda blurted out, eyes bugging out of her head. you found your arms wrapped around your waist, feeling defensive. 

"well, i was kinda promised to him? y'know. i shouldn't have tried to kiss that anyway," you murmured out softly. at this linda let out a laugh, to which marry anne silenced her. 

"listen honey, i think you should be careful. promised or not. you have freedoms, and rights as a girl," marry anne continued, with a raised eyebrow, "and me for one- i would not be able to handle a man like that-oh-"

a hand snaked behind ur shoulder, and you turned around to face the person a beam on your face. "hey!" you giggled out before realising rafe was there. he was wearing that white shirt that made you go crazy for him, and while you wondered why he was there; he had a strange look on his face.

"mary anne, linda, nice to see ya guys. taking care of my girl? i bet you are." rafe muttered, turning back to look at you. you were practically ready to jump into his arms, a clear pout on your face. it was almost as if he knew that you needed him. 

you sighed, and leaned into him, before whispering something into his ear. "don't wanna be here anymore." 

at this, you saw rafe's eyes flash with anger, before grinning that snarky smile you knew so well. all of a sudden you were straddled on his lap, like a little girl as you played with his rings. he was inspecting lina and mary anne with a look of predators. "so, what are you guys talking about?" 

linda quickly blurted out, "nothing! nothing at all. y'know what, i think anne and i should go. gotta an appointment at 5." mary anne looked close to rolling her eyes, but nodded before getting into more discussion. their smiles looked fake, as they gave you a quick wave, and ran as quick as their heels could take them.

you found yourself lying in rafe's lap, completely tired. he was brushing out the baby hairs out of your face, before softly dropping a kiss on your forehead. you exhaled, wiggling closer to him. he was never like this. so full of love to share. 

"gonna make you mine, all right?" he whispered in your ear, before nipping at your jaw, "gonna give you my kids, a house full of them, and some better friends, bun. you're the sweetest." 

and just like that any thought of leaving him was gone. 

[itty-bitty-mess]

Awww you hate your mommy, little bitty? Well then I suppose you won’t mind if she takes away all the luxuries she gave you! I suppose you won’t mind if she leaves you in a dumpster far far away from your ex-home! I suppose you won’t mind if she takes away all the love she gave you and gives it to a more grateful and deserving bitty! Surely you won’t regret being such a brat to your mommy now!!