NSFW M/m account, 18+ only!
And he still doesn't notice when he wipes them out with just a scratch of his fingers or a flex of his toes.
And he still doesn't notice when he wipes them out with just a scratch of his fingers or a flex of his toes.
The mistress lies tiny, happy in her maid’s gloved palm. After wine, guests, and too many names to recall—she always shrinks herself. A few days of peace, of care. A tradition now. She smiles up at her maids, body and house surrendered to hands that truly run both.
“And I thought they smelled bad on the outside,” you joke, standing at the steaming mouth of your giant gf’s winter boot
She stares daggers, unamused at your reference
She’s standing with one socked foot out of the snow in weather that’s cold enough to kill you
“And I thought they smelled bad on the outside,” you joke, standing at the steaming mouth of your giant gf’s winter boot
She stares daggers, unamused at your reference
She’s standing with one socked foot out of the snow in weather that’s cold enough to kill you
"Don't go dyin' on me yet, sugar. I got an odd job or five for ya."
She kneads the borrower like dough.
"Oh, you're gonna be my favorite lil' worker bee."
"Don't go dyin' on me yet, sugar. I got an odd job or five for ya."
She kneads the borrower like dough.
"Oh, you're gonna be my favorite lil' worker bee."
a fairy who is trapped in clothing unitentionally by someone having a rough day
regardless of being stuck, the fairy wants them to know they're not alone, and bring them kindness
so she will sooth them, love them, be their toy if they want these things
if it helps them smile again
a fairy who is trapped in clothing unitentionally by someone having a rough day
regardless of being stuck, the fairy wants them to know they're not alone, and bring them kindness
so she will sooth them, love them, be their toy if they want these things
if it helps them smile again
In Antarctic weather, visibility’s barely 20 feet. But sound carries. Colossal seal-bodied mermaids rise from the surf, bellies slick with brine, voices seismic. Biologists call them vocalizations—but they feel like earthquakes. Low, blooming through your body.