good boys that you just can’t help riding till they cry ♡ moaning, writhing and mewling under you as you drop your weight on him, the loud slapping of skin resounding in the room along with his voice and your amused chuckles. He’s cummed so many times he doesn’t know what’s going on anymore, delirious and spit bubbling from his mouth, rolled eyes, all he can pick up is the sparks of pleasure going up his body. His dick is a angry dark pink, your tight hole milking him so much he’s about to go dry. But it’s not any time soon. Because no matter how overstimulated, how much he cries, he is definitely not done anytime soon, the amount of cum he just spurt out is proof of that.
🐇- armin, chuuya, dazai, atsushi, ranpo, poe, angel devil, choso, gojo, grim/casper (adwd), jinshi, izuku (adult), tomioka, rengoku, MAYBE MAYBEEEE katsuki (adult and after fighting to convince him), amajiki, kaneki, reigen, kurapika, shinichiro, link (tloz), sebastian (stardew)
authors note: hi guys! Thank u for 300 followers and I’m sorry for not writing for so long. if u guys have other character suggestions please let me know! I don’t think these characters are solely subs but are willing to sub, I will write again soon! Also this isn’t edited I will edit any grammar mistakes soon :)
special thanks to my friend for helping me choose the characters 🫶
A new WIP coming soon! With Linktober on the horizon, I’m honored to announce a special thanks to @lemonheadart for this cover art! She was professional, prompt and lovely to work with! I recommend checking out her page and of course I recommend celebrating our artists and writers!
How writers feel after starting a jaw-dropping, pearl clutching, thigh shaking, mouth watering, soul taking series just to leave me with no aftercare and discontinue it
it’s hard to find a husband as the butcher’s daughter.
the girls at your school smelled of flowers and goat soap. lithe, not muscled in their forearms for slicing and draining the blood from butchered cows. neither have they seen a chicken run without their head, a pig hung from the ceiling, the cries of a gentle hateno cow when its life is taken for its meat. their eyes are so trusting, even when light fades from their souls' windows.
you were young when you began shadowing your father.
"i got this broom custom-made for you, little one," papa said. "it's your special broom for helping me clean."
you know the witch charges a high price for those brooms. a mop of similar height leans on the wall next to it, likely made by your father.
"will i be cleaning the cow blood?" you asked.
the smile on your father's face flattened. "yes, darling. the chickens, too. now, come."
it started by just watching, the mop gripped tightly in your hands. chickens ran until they dropped. you dodged, their claws still sharp even in death as there was no time for their bodies to decay. your father's swing was strong.
"so they may have a quick ending," papa had said.
you nodded.
"i'm sorry, my darling," your father stoops to your height. "but i have to start you early, or it'll be too hard when you're older."
it was still hard. you no longer smelled of lavender and goat milk. the metallic tang of blood stuck to your skin. the girls were nice, but you saw how they snuck glances at you, hands cupped to their curved red lips. every night, you scrubbed and scrubbed, but blood stuck to you, in smell and between the lines of your skin and under your nails.
it got harder when you got older.
the girls in your village were getting married off. squeals of handmade rings, silver shoved into your face with declarations of it being custom-made by that famous blacksmith. you don't know him? well, you would soon. one of the girls had even handed you a bar of soap.
"it's so deep-cleaning, made by mother." the bar of soap suddenly weighed like a brick. "free trial. she said you should give it a try."
some of their bellies began to swell. the idea of pregnancy made you queasy, tales of morning sickness and swollen feet and tearing during birth were too scary, but there was an empty spot just beneath your sternum. an ache. sometimes, your hand twitched.
you wondered why, until you were looking out the window, and it twitched as a couple walked by. then it twitched again when you saw an older couple, then a newly-wedded wife and husband, then again at a couple bickering by the fruitstand. your hand needed to be held, but there was nothing warm to hold other than the freshly butchered body of a mother pig.
the shop's bell shocks you.
“you are the backbone to people’s survival.”
you drop the cut of hateno cow into its wrapping. it slaps when it make its landing, blood pooling where it sits. "but the king still insists he is watchful of my father. we're the first to be blamed if there's a breakout."
he won't leave you alone, this annoying boy.
"that's true." he rubs his neck awkwardly. good. the more awkward you make him feel, the quicker he'll leave. "oh, could i also get a flank of hateno beef?"
you look up from the wrapping. the boy always had a bow and sword strapped to his back.
"can't you hunt this all yourself?"
the boy shrugs sheepishly, a shy smile stretching his lips. "it's easier to buy sometimes. all that clean up and preparation."
"sometimes," he begins with a upward swing of his voice, "i'm just really hungry and need food now."
you almost smile. it's easier to breathe.
"who are you again?" you reach through the counter, grasping the hateno beef.
"just a bard, my lady."
"really? you're not very good with words."
"no, probably clumsy," he admits with a laugh, "but i'm good with the flute! and ocarina."
you frown. the royal family made the ocarina famous. "that is an important instrument."
"aye." he smiles. then, his eyes switch. the silly boy almost looks calculated. "would you like to hear it?"
something sweeps over you. something grey. something with a heavy grip that holds your free will hostage. your hand twitches. "i'm at work."
"then another time." his voice is gentle. bards are supposed to be emotionally in-tune; feel his crowd, match his story with their feelings. are you just a crowd to him?
"what is your name, bard?" you slide his meats towards him.
he stands a little taller, but he's not so tall. "link, my lady."
