#[vibrates intensely] the lads.

[sabuleum]

@dcviated / wylan said:

"The downside of kicking the door down is... welp, you can't exactly lock it behind you! So much for privacy."

...they're reminded, however briefly, of some similarly chiding words from their wife (cushioned in barely-stifled laughter); the catalyst which ultimately resulted in there being no real doors to speak of in the Adherent's home. today: she grumbles.

❝ the only downside is that our pal wasn't behind the door when it came down... if privacy was so important to them, maybe they shouldn't have fucked around and started trying to summon some company. ❞ —especially when those guests were as unruly as the creatures recently ransacking the nearby town. at least there was no sight of the ugly little skirges inside the meager residence, either; however satisfying they might be to crush, the pair 'd had their fill in days prior.

❝ ...caught wind we were coming, I guess. hmph. ❞ Emké sighed; resigning to the fact that they'd have to play detective a little longer. ❝ but it doesn't seem like they took much with them. come on, let's kick around and see if we can find something useful. ❞

[blueberrisdove-sideblog]

So you've done cock sizes and squirting reactions for the LADS but what about how each of them cum/orgasm? Streams, spurts, a lot, a little? Holding close or gripping tight with hands? Pulling forward? Etc.

.☘︎ ݁˖ . HOW THEY CUM !

✧ paring : sylus, caleb, xavier, zayne, rafayel x reader (separate)

✧ tws : nsfw/smut, creampie, cow-girl, doggy style, sub!rafayel, spanking, hair pulling, gagging, biting, neck kissing and others!

Sylus is the type to cum hard and deep, letting out a low, breathy groan as his muscles tense up. His orgasms are intense but controlled—he doesn’t lose himself completely, but you can feel the power behind each thrust as he pushes in as deep as possible, holding you firmly against him like he’s trying to fuse your bodies together.

He’s a spurter, releasing in thick, strong pulses that hit deep and leave a warmth that lingers. His grip tightens—whether it’s his hands around your waist, one wrapped in your hair, or fingers digging into your thighs as he keeps you in place. If he’s really lost in the moment, he’ll let out a quiet “Fuck—”under his breath, voice husky and slightly shaky.

If you’re riding him, he’ll pull you down flush against his chest at the last second, holding you still as he empties himself inside. He likes to feel every second of it, dragging it out by rolling his hips, making sure nothing goes to waste. Even after he cums, he doesn’t let go immediately—his hands linger, his breathing heavy as he presses lazy, possessive kisses against your skin, still reveling in the aftershocks.

Caleb is a slow builder when it comes to orgasm. He holds back, savoring every second, his breath growing more ragged as he gets closer. When he finally lets go, it’s a long, shuddering release, his body trembling slightly as he pulses inside you. His cum doesn’t spurt out in thick shots—it seeps out in warm, steady waves, spilling deep and coating every inch. It’s messy, unhurried, and almost overwhelming.

His hands aren’t gripping tight like Sylus—Caleb’s more about holding you firm yet gentle, big hands resting heavy on your hips or sliding up your back to pull you close against his chest. If he’s behind you, his fingers will dig into your waist, guiding you slowly through the aftershocks as he catches his breath.

He’s not loud, but you’ll hear him—a sharp inhale, a low groan that vibrates against your skin, maybe even a whispered “That’s it, pipsqueak…” if he’s feeling particularly rough. And he doesn’t pull out immediately—he likes the feeling of being buried inside you, soaking in the heat and wetness, his lips brushing against your neck as he rides out the last waves of pleasure with slow, lazy rolls of his hips.

Xavier’s orgasm hits him like a slow-burning fire, one that builds into a sharp, almost unbearable peak before he goes still for a second—then completely unravels. His release isn’t about spurts or streams—it’s a deep, throbbing pulse, a thick warmth that just keeps flowing out of him, filling you up in heavy waves that seem to last longer than they should. You can feel every tight clench of his abs, every twitch of his cock inside you as he gives in completely.

In doggy style, he loses himself in the control, gripping your hair at the base of your skull and pulling just hard enough to arch your back perfectly for him. The moment he cums, he yanks you up onto your knees, keeping his chest flush against your back while his free hand locks onto your hip, forcing you still as he buries himself deep and stays there, making sure you take every last drop. His breathing is ragged against your ear, a rough growl of your name slipping past his lips, low and strained, like he’s fighting the urge to keep fucking into you through the aftershocks.

Even when he’s finished, he doesn’t let go right away. His hand in your hair loosens, fingers slipping down to cup your throat, thumb stroking your jaw as he lets out a deep, satisfied sigh. And if you so much as try to move before he’s ready? His grip tightens again—a silent demand to stay right where you are.

Zayne’s orgasm is a slow, aching surrender—he tries to hold back, tries to draw it out, but when it hits, it’s unshakable. His release isn’t sharp or sudden; it’s a deep, rolling pleasure that spreads through his body like a slow wave. His cum seeps out thick and heavy, pouring into you in lazy, unhurried pulses that leave a deep warmth behind. He doesn’t tense up completely—instead, his muscles shudder subtly, his breath hitching as he lets out a quiet, gritted groan that melts into a low chuckle.

With you on your knees, ass up, he runs a warm palm over your skin, fingers squeezing possessively before he delivers a slow, deliberate slap to your ass—not rough, but firm enough to make you jolt slightly beneath him. Again. And again. Each time, his touch lingers, soothing over the heat his hand left behind, his other hand pressing into the dip of your lower back to keep you exactly where he wants you.

When he finally cums, his grip tightens just enough to hold you steady, his hips pushing forward in one last deep roll as he sinks inside you to the hilt. A deep, satisfied “Fuck… that’s my girl.” escapes him as he rests his forehead against your spine, catching his breath. His hands stay on you, tracing your curves, squeezing your hips, his fingers drifting lazily over your skin. And before he even thinks about pulling out, you’ll feel one last, lingering smack against your ass, paired with a smug little hum—as if he’s already thinking about the next time.

Rafayel tries to hold back, tries to keep his composure, but the moment he gets too close, his body betrays him. His breathing gets uneven, his thighs tense beneath your touch, and his hands clutch at whatever they can find—your hips, the sheets, his own wrists if you’ve pinned them down. His orgasm isn’t sharp or explosive; it’s messy, drawn out, overwhelming. His cock twitches and throbs, spilling out in slow, leaking pulses that leave him trembling beneath you. He gasps, eyes fluttering shut, a soft whimper slipping from his lips as his body completely melts into your touch.

The moment your teeth sink into his shoulder, his whole body jerks beneath you, a strangled sound escaping his throat as his head tilts back. Too much. Too good. His fingers dig into your skin, desperate for something to ground himself with, but the pain mixed with pleasure only makes him unravel faster. His chest heaves, muscles tensing, before he finally slumps back, completely spent, completely at your mercy.

Even after he’s finished, his body still twitches with aftershocks, his cock giving one last weak throb as he lets out a breathless, needy whine. His hands tremble slightly when they reach for you, still craving your warmth, still needing to be held, to be reassured. If you press another bite into his skin—softer this time—he’ll shiver, let out a breathy little “Please…” before burying his face in your neck, too dazed to do anything but let you have your way with him all over again.

© 2024-2025 blueberrisdove-sideblog all rights reserved. pretty please, do not steal my dividers, translate and plagiarize any of my works, or either repost my works in any other platform without asking, thank you!

[rafayelxsylusho]

i feel like i never see this.. but lads men & daddy kink ? like how would they react if you let it slip out one day

Hiiiiii!!! I hope you like it!!

When you call them daddy

Rafayel/Zayne/Xavier/Sylus/Caleb

TW: SMUT

RAFAYEL 🐡

He freezes for a moment, breath hitching in his throat as he hears you let out a choked gasp and a small whimper of"Daddy." He tightens his grip on your hair, yanking your head back and exposing the smooth column of your neck He pulls your body flush against his lean, toned chest as he continues to thrust into you from behind. You can feel his heart pounding, his breath hot on your ear as he leans down.

"Did you just...?" Rafayel growls, voice low and rough with barely restrained desire. His hips never stop their relentless rhythm, cock driving into you with deep, powerful thrusts. "Did you call me Daddy?" He punctuates the question with a particularly hard thrust, grinding his pelvis against your ass.

"Well well," he murmurs, his other hand sliding around your waist "I didn't know you were into that, cutie." You grasp his hand, leading it up to your breast, he squeezes and kneads the tender flesh, thumb and forefingers plucking and rolling your stiffening nipple. He pins you harder against him, one hand dipping down to where you're joined. Fingers find your clit, rubbing tight circles around the sensitive nub as he starts to thrust faster and deeper. The new angle has him hitting that spot inside you with every snap of his hips

A smirk tugs at his lips, eyes glinting with mischief and something more intense, more possessive. "Fuck, cutie... you want Daddy to take care of you? Beg for it. Let Daddy hear you say it again" He smiles as your only responses are breathless moans and needy whimpers, your body arching into his touch. He whispers in your ear, "That's not an answer, cutie, I want to hear you say it again"

His fingers dig into the soft flesh of your hip as he rolls his hips over and over again. "Who's your Daddy, baby? Say my name," he demands, voice rough with lust and anticipation. You can barely whimper his name when you feel your orgasm crash over you. He feels you clench and quiver around him as you come undone, your cries of "Daddy!" music to his ears.

Zayne🥼

Zayne's hands grip your hips tightly, fingers digging into the soft flesh as he hilts himself fully inside you. A low groan rumbles in his chest, vibrating against your sensitive breast where his lips and tongue tease and suckle your hardened nipple. He laves the bud with the flat of his tongue before giving it a sharp nip, sending a jolt of pleasure-pain straight to your core.

The desk creaks and shakes beneath you with each powerful thrust of Zayne's hips, his broad frame looming over your smaller one. The lamp on the desk wobbles, casting erratic shadows on the wall.

His hips slam forward, the desk shaking violently as you cry out, "Yes, Daddy!" Your nails dig into his shoulders, leaving crescent marks in his skin as your body clenches around his throbbing length. Zayne pauses, hips still buried deep inside your heat. He looks down at you, hazel eyes darkening with lust and a hint of surprise at your words

Zayne's smile widens, a dangerous glint in his eyes as he looms over you. He rolls his hips slowly, deliberately, grinding against that sensitive spot deep inside. His voice is a low, husky rumble. "What was that, darling? I didn't quite catch that... Want to try again? Go on, sweetheart say it again." His thumb traces the curve of your lower lip, a silent command in the gesture, urging you to give him the words he craves.

"Daddy," you breathe out, the word falling from your lips like a prayer and a plea all at once. Your fingers scrabble at his back, nails digging into his skin you try to pull him closer, to bury him deeper inside you. "Please, Daddy... I need... I need you to fuck me. Fuck me hard and deep until I can't think of anything but you." Your voice rises in pitch, desperation clear in every word. 

A low, approving growl rumbles from Zayne's chest at your plea. "That's my good girl," he praises, before crashing his lips against yours in a bruising kiss. At the same time, he snaps his hips forward, burying himself to the hilt inside you. He sets a punishing pace, the desk shaking again beneath you with each powerful thrust. One hand tangles in your hair, gripping tight and angling your head to deepen the kiss, while the other arm wraps around your waist to pull you flush against him.

"Cum for daddy," Zayne commands. His hips piston relentlessly, the hand fisted in your hair tightens, tugging your head back to expose the column of your throat. He latches onto your pulse point, sucking and biting as he chases his own release. "Let me feel you cum apart on my cock, sweetheart," he murmurs against your skin. "Squeeze daddy's dick with your tight little cunt. Milk me dry. Give me everything."

Xavier 🌟🌟

Xavier's hips undulate slowly, his hard length sliding in and out of your wet cunt with sensual precision. Warm water streams down his toned chest and abs, dripping onto your curves as you sit straddled on his lap in the deep tub. His hands grip your waist, thumbs kneading the soft flesh as he rocks into you, the gentle waves lapping at your skin with each measured thrust.

One hand slides up your side, cupping your breast and squeezing gently as he rolls your nipple between his fingers. He trails his lips down the column of your throat, pausing to suckle at your pulse point. You can feel his heart pounding against your chest, matching the throbbing of his cock driving into your core.

"Nghh...Daddy...."

Xavier groans, a shudder rippling through his tall frame at the sound of your breathy moan and the pet name falling from your lips. His hips jerk, burying himself deep inside you as he fights the sudden urge to let go. "Fuck, y/n... don't call me that," he grits out through clenched teeth, voice strained with barely restrained desire. "Not unless you want me to fill this sweet cunt right here and now..."

The water sloshes around you, spilling over the side of the tub as he starts to increase his pace, each thrust pushing you closer to the edge. His lips crash against yours in a kiss, swallowing your next moan as he starts to piston his hips faster, the water moving around you. One hand fists in your hair, tugging your head back to deepen the kiss as the other arm bands around your waist, crushing you against his chest. He kisses you until you're both breathless, until the coil of heat in your belly winds so tight you think you might shatter.

Suddenly, he lifts you out of the tub and carries you dripping to the bed, laying you down on the cool sheets. He looms over you, eyes blazing with lust and something deeper, more primal. He settles between your thighs, the thick head of his cock nudging insistently at your entrance. His large hands grip your knees, pushing them up and apart until your legs are bent at a 90 degree angle, nearly folded against your chest. It leaves you utterly exposed, vulnerable, at his mercy.

He leans down, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he growls,

"Daddy is going to fuck you hard now, princess. Fuck you until you scream, until this needy little cunt is dripping with my cum"

Sylus🐦‍⬛

Sylus smirks playfully, eyes flashing crimson as he pins you harder against the wall, hips snapping sharply against yours. One large hand grips your thigh possessively while the other tangles in your hair, forcing your head to the side to bare your throat to his hungry mouth. Each powerful thrust grinds his pelvis against your clit, sending jolts of pleasure shooting up your spine.

He moans against your throat, feeling your fingers gripping his silky hair. He bucks into you harder. His hand on your thigh slides up to grope your ass, squeezing the supple flesh as he pulls you tighter against him. The wall creaks under the force of his thrusts and the rough treatment of your body. He then hikes your leg up higher, changing the angle and letting him drive into your pussy much deeper. "Who do you belong to, kitten? Say my fucking name."

"I belong to you...daddy!!" you whimper, eyes squeezed shut, tits bouncing in rhythm to his delicious thrusts. He licks a hot stripe up your neck before biting down on your earlobe, tugging it between his teeth. Sylus chuckles darkly, a glint in his crimson eyes as he feels your needy walls flutter around his cock. He slows his thrusts, grinding against that special spot deep inside you with maddening precision. "Louder, kitten, I didn't quite catch that. "You're going to have to be louder than that if you want daddy to hear you." Come on, y/n. Tell daddy who this greedy little pussy belongs to. Let me hear you scream it," Sylus demands, voice dripping with dark promise and barely restrained hunger.

He leans in close, breath hot against your lips as he rolls his hips, stirring his thick length inside your clenching heat. His hand releases your hair to wrap around your throat, not squeezing, but a clear warning of what's to come if you don't give him what he wants.

"I'M YOURS, DADDY!" you scream at the top of your lungs, voice ragged and desperate, just the way he wants it. Your nails dig into his scalp as you cling to him, back arching off the wall as he rails into your aching core. "I belong to you, Sylus! All yours!"

"That's right, you're fucking MINE," he snarls, eyes blazing with feral hunger as he claims your mouth in a bruising kiss, his tongue delving deep to stake his ownership of you in every way possible. He hooks your other leg around his arm, nearly bending you in half as he looms over you, a dark god of lust and depravity. His hips are a blur as he pounds your over-sensitive flesh.

"Now cum for me" he rasps, eyes wild and intense "Give daddy what he wants."

Caleb 🪐

Caleb's breath catches as he feels your pussy engulfing him, inch by inch. His hands grip your waist, fingers digging into the supple flesh as he guides you down onto his throbbing cock. He fights the urge to buck up into you, to bury himself to the hilt in one brutal thrust. No, he wants to savor this moment, to make it last.

"Fuck..." he grits out, eyes darkening to a stormy indigo as he watches your face contort with pleasure. "You feel so fucking good wrapped around my cock. So tight, so perfect..."

"Ride me, pipsqueak," he urges, his own hips surge upwards, meeting each of your slow, sensual rolls with a powerful thrust. This angle has him hitting depths you've never felt before, striking that secret spot deep inside that makes stars explode behind your eyelids. A sharp cry escapes your lips, back arching as pleasure crashes through you. His eyes darken with hunger as he watches you grip the armrest of his chair, knuckles turning white, and start to ride him with wild abandon. The sight of you taking your pleasure from him, using him for your own satisfaction, sends a surge of lust pulsing through his veins.

His hands grip your hips, fingers sinking into the flesh of your ass as he guides your increasingly frenzied movements. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoes through his office as you bounce on his lap, your tits jiggling with each forceful thrust. He leans forward, capturing one nipple between his teeth and biting down just hard enough to make you gasp. His tongue swirls around the sensitive bud before he suckles hard, sending jolts of electric pleasure straight to your cunt.

"Gods it f..feels so fucking nghh...good daddy!!" you moan, eyes rolling back.

Caleb's heart stops, time seems to freeze as your breathless words reach his ears. The way you called him 'daddy' is almost his undoing. He stills your frantic movements, gripping your hips tightly as he fights the overwhelming urge to let go, to fill your spasming cunt with every last drop of his seed. He's so close, teetering right on the razor's edge of ecstasy, your fluttering walls milking his throbbing length so perfectly.

"What did you just call me, pipsqueak?" he asks, his tone a mix of curiosity and something darker, more possessive. "You called me...daddy?" He says the word slowly, almost reverently, as if tasting it on his tongue. His hands slide up your sides, coming to rest just below your breasts, thumbs brushing the undersides.

"I liked the sound of that," he murmurs, leaning in until his lips are a hairsbreadth from yours. "I liked it a fucking lot. In fact... I think I want to hear you say it again. Say it while I fuck you, while I make you scream it for the whole office to hear. Say it while I fill this greedy little cunt with my cum."

One hand slides up to wrap around your throat, possessively holding you in place. The other hand grips your ass hard enough to leave bruises, pulling you down onto him as he thrusts up into you with newfound ferocity. "Say it, pipsqueak" he demands, his voice a low, feral growl as he pounds into you with increasing intensity. His hand tightens around your throat, his other arm wrapping around your waist to hold you in place as he thrust into you. The chair creaks beneath you, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing again through the room as he takes you hard and fast.

"Yes Daddy!" you cry out, your voice ringing through the office as Caleb pounds into you with renewed vigor. "It's yours, all yours! This pussy belongs to you, only you!"

Your words seem to unleash something primal within him. He stands, lifting you effortlessly as he rises, never once pulling his throbbing length from your clinging heat. He strides purposefully to his desk, sweeping the surface clear with one powerful arm before laying you down upon it. He leans down, capturing your mouth in a brutal kiss, swallowing your screams as he drives into you with all the force of a man possessed

"Let go, pretty girl," he whispers in your ear, his voice a low, seductive rumble that sends shivers cascading down your spine. "Let Daddy feel you come undone."

[buckiverse]

☆--- warnings: mdni, period sex, oral sex, xavier being such a freak (need him desperately)

Xavier is definitely the freakiest out of all the lads boys. I need you to hear me out… okay.

It had been a rough day, you’d been in quite some pain from your period, each movement only seemed to make it worse. You'd read online that sex might help with cramps, but you'd always brushed it off as something that probably wouldn’t work for you. Yet, as the discomfort refused to ease, the thought kept coming back. Maybe, just maybe, it was worth a try.

Xavier, as always, was right by your side, always kind and patient. He'd been bringing you heating pads, your favorite foods, and cuddling you just the way you liked. He was always so in tune with your needs, always there without you even having to ask. You knew he’d do anything to make you feel better.

“Can I get you anything?” he asked, his voice tender and full of concern, eyes soft as he watched you. He had that way of looking at you like you were the most important thing in the universe to him.

You hesitated, but answered him honestly, revealing the thoughts you’ve been having. “I read somewhere that, um, sex might help with cramps… Would you maybe want to try that?”

Xavier's eyes widened slightly, surprise flickering across his face. But you saw something else too—something deeper, like he’d been waiting for this moment, hoping for it, yet never daring to ask. A slow, gentle smile spread across his lips.

“If that’s what you want,” he said softly, the warmth in his voice unwavering, “then I’d be more than happy to help.”

He sat next to you on the bed, his gaze never leaving yours, his touch gentle when he reached up to cup your face. His thumb traced the line of your cheek as he leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to your lips. It was sweet, unhurried. 

You felt your skin flush from his touch as his hands slowly moved to your thighs, drawing small circles on your soft skin. You shuddered under his touch, everything felt more intense, so much more sensitive.  When he finally reached your panties, you closed your eyes, anticipating his touch. 

He helped you lie back, placing a towel under you. But to your surprise, he didn’t rush. He wanted to ease your pain, to cherish you—savor the moment.  

Slowly, almost reverently, he lowered himself, his eyes widening as he took in the sight of you. His hands were gentle but firm as he spread your thighs, his breath warm against your skin. And then, when his mouth met your clit, you gasped—heat ran through you at once. 

“Xav—Xavier, you don’t h-have to,” you stammered, your voice trembling with pleasure and emotion, your cheeks flushing even deeper. But he only hummed in response, the vibration sending a wave of warmth through you. His mouth moved with a deliberate rhythm, his tongue tracing slow, deliberate circles drawing out every whimper, every gasp from your lips. 

[libingan]

— how the TF141 suck COCK!

JOHN PRICE

price starts by gripping your cock with a firm, authoritative hand, applying steady, controlled pressure. his mouth envelops your cock tightly, alternating between slow, deep sucks and fast, aggressive movements.

looooves maintaining intense eye contact, his gaze unwavering and filled with desire as he watches your reactions. he uses his tongue to tease the head and underside, applying varied pressure to keep you on edge.

his hands keep your thighs apart, holding you in place and ensuring you stay exposed. you just look so handsome spread out for him :(((

“so fuckin’ perfect, love,” he’d murmur, sloppily slurping up your sensitive cock, “taste so good too…”

his free hand LOVES to play with your balls, squeezing and caressing them to amplify the pleasure. he might adjust your position, pulling on your thighs or pushing you closer, ensuring you’re completely under his control.

KYLE ‘GAZ’ GARRICK

gaz combines a firm, eager grip with skilled movements, using a mix of slow, deliberate strokes and rapid, hungry pumps. he’ll lean down and suck lightly on your sensitive tip, digging his tongue into the slit to lap up your precome.

he frequently incorporates his fingers into the experience, gently fingering your hole while his mouth works on your cock. he’ll curl his fingers just right, pressing into prostate with each movement.

gaz talks you through it all. his top one priority is your pleasure, so he makes it a point to always ask if you’re enjoying yourself (you are). whispers words of praise and encouragement the whole time! he loves making you feel loved!

“y’like that, sweetheart?” he’ll ask so sweetly, batting his eyelashes at you, “feels good, yeah? you’re so amazing, love,”

he loves experimenting with different pressures and touches, finding the perfect combination to drive you wild with pleasure.

JOHN ‘SOAP’ MACTAVISH

soap style is more energetic and varied, using a mix of fast, aggressive sucks and slow, teasing licks. be grips your cock firmly and alternates between deep, intense pressure and playful touches.

this man loves incorporating sex toys, such as cock rings and vibrators, to enhance the experience. he might use a cock ring to keep you hard and on edge, or use a vibrator to overstimulate you, pushing you to the brink.

he’s absolutely obsessed with overstimulation, always pushing you beyond your limits with relentless enthusiasm each time he’s in between your legs.

“c’mon, lad, ye can give me one more, aye?” he says with a rough, scottish brogue, his voice muffled around your cock. “gonnae make ye cum o’er and o’er again, love.”

he loves deep-throating you, taking you fully into his mouth and throat, applying a constricting pressure that makes you feel every bit of his dominance. his mouth works you intensely, pushing your cock to the back of his throat and holding it there, making you feel both overwhelmed and electrified.

SIMON ‘GHOST’ RILEY

simon is agonizingly slow, as he takes perverse pleasure in edging you. he uses a mix of torturously slow licks and barely-there sucks, teasing you to the brink of release. his mouth is relentless, but the pressure is always just enough to keep you on edge without letting you cum.

he loves applying varying pressures with his lips and tongue, sometimes giving you light, taunting touches and other times intensifying with rougher strokes.

simon is incredibly tuned into your reactions and will pull off immediately if he senses you’re about to climax, leaving you gasping and desperate. he enjoys watching your frustration and need, smirking at the way you squirm and whimper.

“you’re not cumming yet,” he growls harshly, his voice thick with lust. “not until i say so.”

he’ll lightly graze your cock with his teeth, teasing you with gentle nips and scraping motions that add a sharp, thrilling edge to the sensation. his hand also adds pressure, keeping you right on the edge with slow strokes and sudden stops, making the experience both excruciating and intensely pleasurable.

[simonbrain]

I just saw the post you made for creepy weirdo simon and ngl, I need more. Maybe even one for soap too. Your brain is very 🤌

i feel like with simon, he knows when to not push the limits too much. for all the shit you put up with, there have only been a few times he's actually made you uncomfortable, and he's never done them again. but he does attempt to get to that point without actually crossing the line—it's almost like a game for him. it's just lucky that you love him so much. you knew what you were getting into with this creep, so you beam at him and give him a sloppy little kiss on the lips whenever he's up to no good. simon thinks it's cute that you enable him.

with johnny, however, i think he comes on way too strong. on the first date, he took notes of your coffee order, the way you did your hair and the accessories you wore, your mannerisms. he paid close attention to everything you said, taking each word to heart and not blinking once. you brushed off his intensity because this was your first date in a while and it was nice to be sought after, especially by someone as handsome as him, so you kept the same energy even if his staring made you feel shy.

after that, he's already looking up your family history and friends online, your past homes and the places you've lived (even for very briefly), your workplace. he's stalking keeping tabs on you while you're running errands and noting the things you're buying and the places you go to; he's even taking a few pictures of you to show the lads his new girl.

by the time the second date rolls around, he's vibrating in his seat, trying to hold himself back from blurting out that he has your engagement ring in his pocket.

(when he actually has you as his missus and he's certain you won't run away, he tells you all about his crazy ass behaviour before you got together, about how he was already dreaming about having a nice, big family with you and how he was ready to get on his knees and sing his praises.

you cut his rambling off by leaning forward and shoving your tongue down his throat, eager to have sex for the nth time. you were right; it's nice to be showered with so much love and attention by your man.)

[astracora]

Drunken Confession - Poly!LADs

Characters: Poly!LADs x gn!mc

Warnings: Drunk LADs, Fluff

Word Count: 3086

Written: 11th March 2025

Notes: Established-relationship with gn!MC with all LADs, with my personal pov of the game and lil headcanons littered in. Unnamed MC, but using my personal MC's basic appearance and adjusted backstory. I take some liberties with what the game offers me. I... genuinely got a bit too emotional working on this. Anyway, I finally finished it. I'll be honest, it's very funny being autistic aro-ace and writing for an otome game, literally zero parts of me have a comprehension of romance. ANYWAY, Enjoy! Also if you want to know what I imagined the boys drinking, obvs Sy was his good ol' Gin Fizz, Caleb was a Sour Apple Martini, Xavi got a Starfruit Paloma, Zayne got a Bailey's Chocolate Liqueur, Raffy got a Sea Breeze.

Now Playing: To the Wilder, by Woodkid

Masterlist AO3

<- Caleb <-Zayne <-Xavier <- Rafayel <- Sylus

You're running late, dodging people on the pavement, when you get the call. It's one of those moments you really envy Xavier's ability to teleport, late after a meeting with Captain Jenna.

"Hey- Shit, sorry!" You speak to someone you almost barge straight into, there's noise on the other end of the call, but you can't stop to speak, rushing and rushing. "I'll be there soon, the report took longer than expected."

"Cuuuutie, you've abandoned us!"

"Fish, give me the phone."

"Rafayel, did you down that drink? We haven't eaten yet."

You feel the laughter bubbling in your chest, as Raffy, Sy and Caleb argue on the other end. You hear scuffling, and someone shushes them, as another voice rings out. "Darling, take your time, we can wait. I would rather not get called out because you got injured trying to race to us."

"I'll- Sorry sorry- be careful Zayne, promise."

"What I'm hearing does not fill me with confidence."

"Fish, don't drink anymore until we have food."

"I'll be there soon!" You have the image of a bright red Raffy, sprawled out over a restaurant table, and force yourself to run faster.

A month long mission, dragging out for longer than you had ever wanted, in which you hadn't been able to see your partners. Calling them, and messaging them on the few small moments of freedom, but otherwise you had been too busy. Arriving back in Linkon had filled you with the kind of impatient joy that you normally had waiting for an event planned months in advance, or a parcel you'd ordered moons ago. Except more intense.

It wasn't the same hearing their voices, when you had grown so used to living with them. Seeing them, touching them, having the comfort of them when nightmares shocked you awake.

Waking up to a cold empty hotel bed, and having to drag yourself out of your bed for coffee. Cold floors and quiet room. You were sure you'd been so fiercely independent before, or perhaps just better at ignoring the ache of loneliness when there was no one around you could trust to rely on.

Especially when you'd thought you'd lost Caleb for good.

You think about waking up one morning during the long month, aching after a bad fight with a wanderer, still too far away from the people you care about. The pain in your back, stinging, the ache in your residual limp a reminder of how hard you'd been pushing, just to get home quicker.

Then your phone had vibrated, throwing itself off from where you'd haphazardly placed it on the side table. As you retrieved it from the floor, messages outstanding.

🐦‍⬛ pretty bird 🐦‍⬛: Try not to miss us too much, Kitten, and make sure you let us know if you need anything.

🐠 cute fishie 🐠: cutie! cutie! look at this crab it's almost as cute as you. come home soon.

⛄️ sweet snowman ⛄️: Remember to take your medication, I want you returning to us healthy.

⭐️ little star ⭐️: Sorry I couldn't keep U company on this mission, Starlight. Make sure UR careful.

🍎 partner in crime 🍎: pipsqueak i got a new recipe to try when you get back. make sure you get back safe alright?

A reminder that unlike all those times before, waiting in the darkness when the world tried to press down on your chest, that you had something to return home to.

It's still a great relief to be home, as you see the restaurant doors, and the promise of family on the other side. You push the doors open none too gently, wincing yourself as you hear them swing open, and feel eyes focus on you. Cheeks suddenly far warmer than you'd like, and pulling at your one bracer with your metal hand. Twisting the elastic as you apologise to a waiter, and find your way to your partners.

They sit around a table, chatting and drinking, and when they feel you approach, you face the full force of five people you love with your whole heart, happy to see you again. Taking hands to join them at a homecoming.

Dinner passes, sating the fact you have not settled properly in weeks, and drinks flow. Rafayel sobered up at some point while eating, only to join you in trying cocktails, picking them out for each other as you tasted ones you've never had before. You try to shush him as he grabs your hand and pulls you into his lap to sing at you when a familiar song comes on over the restaurant speakers. Only for Sylus to assure you that he'd rented the place out, and no one would have an issue if you chose to dance on the table.

Which got you a particular worried look from Caleb, who you know had seen you get that level of drunk more than once growing up. Though Sylus had seemed smug, almost daring you to do so, as he'd pushed another glass into your hands.

When you'd joined Zayne, he had begun to talk to Caleb and Xavier about long term illnesses that could arise from extended space-travel, a topic you can't believe he's touching on while his cheeks redden further thanks to the chocolate baileys he's drinking. His hand grabs your hip, pulling you down into his lap, chin resting on your shoulder, to peer over at Xavier who is recalling details from his own travels. It is hard to focus much on the conversation, when he stops talking and begins pressing kisses into the back of your neck, causing you to squirm in his lap.

His chuckle is low and soft, fingers drifting under the fabric of your shirt, and you grasp his hand to entwine your fingers. Cold metal against his cool ice familiar skin, "You've gotten drunk Zaynie."

"With the safety of those I love, I believe I'm allowed to be so." You can't even begin to fight the smile that crooks your scarred face. You can feel the scar tugging a little as you focus your eyes on him, on the starry eyes and the red cheeks. Your other hand reaching behind you to brush fingertips over his face, the heat of his drunken bliss. It is a grounding feeling to touch him, in the same way as when he seeks out your hand to squeeze for a reprieve when his busy brain runs too fast.

"The snowman's melted again." Xavier speaks, drinking a tall spiralled glass of Star Paloma, though his starfruit has been stolen by Caleb who is chewing it alongside a wedge of lemon.

"He's happy!" Raffy calls from the side, reaching over to grab a handful of strawberries from the centre of the table. "You're eating lemons again, apple pie."

"I like sour food, maybe that's why I like you, fishie."

Another chuckle behind you and to your side as Sylus rejoins you at the table, with another tray of snacks. He slides into the seat next to Zayne, tugging you over a little so you're stuck sitting awkwardly on them both. It cannot be said to be comfortable, until an arm wraps around your middle and pulls you back, "You should eat some more, I doubt you were taking care of yourself on that mission of yours."

"Watching me with Mephisto again?" You tease, no heat in it, you hadn't spotted the familiar crow, but there was little irritation in knowing Sylus worried for you, and wanted to see you, even if it was just through his crow's eyes.

"I just know you far too well, Kitten."

It's a safe bet, you think, terrible at remembering to get things done when you're done with a day of fighting, just wanting to crawl into bed. So you try to reach out to grab some strawberries too, only for two arms to keep you restricted. Zayne makes an unhappy noise behind you as you move, and Sylus chuckles at his new found game, like a cat with a toy as you wriggle. Extending your hand out as far as it goes.

Sometimes you forget how strong they are, Zayne who rarely shows his physical strength, and Sylus who constantly holds it back, only to be reminded when they're feeling particularly clingy. Or when you desperately need the toilet during bed, and neither wish to relinquish their slumber.

"Caleeeeb." You call, making grabby hands at the plate you can see but can't reach. Trying to fight down the smile that wants to escape as you feel the rumble in chests against your back.

He looks over from where he is stirring a drink for Rafayel, and laughs, "Did you get caught in a fiery blizzard there, Pipsqueak?"

"I'm starving, and thirsty, and I can't get back to base camp, help!"

"Oh no, rescue is on its way." He waves his finger casually in the air, floating the plate over into your hands, so you can fall back against your personal limpets, and shove some fruit into your mouth. Dripping strawberry juice down your metal arm.

"Be careful." Xavier extends a tissue to you, only for Zayne to take it, so he can clean the mess up with hands far more carefully than you'd expect when someone gets drunk. Surgeon's hands through and through, you suppose. Even when inebriated, he cannot help but be a careful carer.

"Messy Kitten." Is spoken into the side of your head, as a hand brushes against your mouth as you eat. "Whatever would you do without us?"

You make to bite his finger, only for him to flick your forehead with a laugh, "I'm very capable." You sniff, turning your head away in a false huff, as he nods, some of the humour leaving him as his eyes turn molten. Watching you with pride.

You feel your chest turn just as warm, that familiar small flame that is nursed everyday by affections, blossoming like a flower.

"I know."

"But you need us toooooo, right Cutieee?" Rafayel moves over, sitting on the table now, kicking his feet out so he can lay them over yours and Sylus' lap. He knocks a couple of glasses over, thankfully they're caught by Caleb and Xavier's fast reflexes.

Having them watch you, despite the time it's been, the fact that to some degree you have gotten used to having them all around. A familiarity, a comfort, there is still something very heavy about the focus of their gazes. A reminder that they are five incredible people, who find solace and love in you, and each other, as you find in them. It is terrifying, in the best of ways. It still heats your skin, and makes you feel like fidgeting, however. "Of course." You speak, and it's soft, and it's warm, but it's truthful.

They are family, home, and safety.

When you walk through the doors, you see them and you know that you can lay down weapons and take off masks that keep you standing against the world.

You can breathe and you can live. It is the assurance and the confirmation, that there is nothing that you can ask of them, or tell them of, that will leave you standing in the cold, hurting and lonely and missing connection ever again.

That in no world, in no time, in no eventuality, will you not trust them, or adore them.

That you can survive alone, and you can be happy alone, but there is no substitution for how blissful and how joyful you are, when you are with them.

It's the very promise, that no matter how lost you get, they will find you. Chasing out fears you've held since your earliest memory.

The embarrassment makes you down your drink quickly though, avoiding knowing eyes, and watchful hearts.

When you finally leave the restaurant, heavily tipping waiters who likely had not expected their evening to stretch on as long as it had to six nigh rowdy customers, it's on light feet. You are pleasantly tipsy, the kind that comes from good company and delightful food, topped with drinks you balance with water.

Wary of the fact you have not slept well, and still a little alight from the long month of fighting, that leaves a feeling of preparation under your skin until you go through the routine of returning to your home.

You and Rafayel sing happily, walking down the street arm in arm, wobbling about, with the other's wary hands reaching out to keep you from straying into roads.

Zayne holds onto Sylus' arm as they walk, and you think you hear Sylus trying out some of those deadpan jokes from the horrible book you left on his desk for a laugh. You also are sure you hear Zayne laughing, soft and under his breath.

Xavier is nigh on asleep, head resting on Caleb's shoulder as bed beckons. Your best friend offers to carry your partner, who shakes his head, that he's fine, they're almost home afterall.

It is a happy buzz, so unlike times in the past when you had sought out reprieve in the floating sensation. Dimming the sharp edges of fears of abandonment and aching agony of self-hatred.

There is no pain, no anger, no loss, and when you finally see home, your feet are even lighter. The familiar doors like a beacon. You release Raffy's arm, turning on your heel and bounce back a little, "Last one there's a rotten egg."

Then you run, laughing.

"Pipsqueak, be careful!"

You almost slip, feeling your drunk fishie hot on your heels, your best friend racing after you with your partner, who stumbles a bit, but catches up quickly. You push your hand against the lock, pushing the door open, and feel the collision at your back. Falling through the door and out over the floor.

The gravity catches you, along with mist, as the four of you float a little in the air from where you almost hit the ground.

Sylus and Zayne look down over the four of you, and you are gently deposited on the ground, in a pile.

"Good reflexes." Xavier exhales, looking way more awake, even though his pretty eyes still swim with the drunken haze. He rolls over and pushes himself up, detangling himself.

You can feel Caleb's head against your chest, his laughter soft, he turns his head so he can look at you out of the corner of his eyes, "You're such a troublemaker."

"Me? I was having a fun competition."

"My head's swimming." Rafayel groans, clinging to your waist.

"Makes a change from the rest of you then, fish. Up you get." He's pulled up and deposited on his feet, then caught when he wobbles by Xavier, "The fish needs water, to the surprise of no one."

"Silly crow needs his feathers plucked." Rafayel huffs, but is quickly handed a glass, that he downs.

You and Caleb are offered a hand each, Zayne smiles down at you softly, his face still red, his warm eyes glowing. When you both take it, he lifts you both, into his arms, wrapping one around each of your waists and leads you to the kitchen bar where Xavier is now filling more glasses, and collecting hangover medication.

He bumps into the corner of the table as he blinks his tired eyes, and hisses a complaint.

You sit on one of the chairs, as you watch the group mill about. It hits you then, the exhaustion. Heavy and clawing. The walls of your house, and the people who make it a home, reminding you that you can rest.

As you place your cheek down on crossed arms over the bar, watching them, you feel the comfort settle around you like a blanket.

"Let's get you to sleep, Starlight."

"Too much fun for our Kitten, mhm?"

Always too much fun with them, not a single dull moment, feeling them pull and draw out the parts of you that were stronger as a child. The joy, the thrill of life, the satisfaction, all the feeling of being able to just exist and be silly, to have fun. Lost somewhere along the way at the pain of an unknown timeline, at the constant hurdles of life demanding you grow stronger when you had no ground to stand upon.

You felt yourself become more you again, over time. Reminded of how to live, and not just survive. No longer a raw nerve on the top, chafing under the weight of your heart, your aching feelings, or the metal hand at your side.

"Pipsqueak, drink this, then we'll go to sleep."

"You have the day off tomorrow, Cutie, let's have a lie in."

"Maybe then we can go to Destiny Cafe, Darling?"

As your eyes drift closed, heavy and tired, you exhale out a long sigh. Releasing all the weight of a long mission, everything that weighs down on your soul, pulling apart the shell of your heart, and extend it out as a gift for those that you would lay your life down for.

Your very soul.

It is easy, then, to say words you used to only be able to say when drunk. Hiding behind the loss of inhibition to share what you always wanted to share when sober.

Your eyes flutter open just barely, finding their figures, and you feel the scar pull as you smile, soft and small.

"I love you all so much." It feels a little wet, emotional, but it's warm, so happy and so relieved.

Because you adore and you love and you fight for this very home with your entire being, and that will never not be anymore true.

Inhales of shaking breath, tremors on the edges as vulnerability is offered up willingly. "We love you too."

When you wake up tomorrow, you'll say it again, over and over and over again, until they tire of hearing you. Until they can hear you say it in their dreams, and until it becomes as familiar to them as their own names.

You can think of no better use of your breath, and no better use of time spent, then reminding those who are home for you, that they are so very precious, and so worthy of every fight to keep safe.

That even if you should die tomorrow, you will always keep them embedded in every part of your soul, and seek them out in eternities and cycles to come. Your soul belonging with theirs.

[cynicalrosebud]

RHI - NSFW: Control

NSFW Masterlist

Pairing(s): Soap x Rumor

Summary: Johnny teaches his sub a lesson in the meaning of ‘too much of a good thing’.

Warnings: Explicit sexual content, gay sex, BDSM dynamics (Master/sub), power dynamics, praise kink, slight degradation, gags, restraints, chastity, butt plugs, safe sane consensual, milking, overstimulation, slight cnc, aftercare

The dim light of the room cast long shadows over the two figures within, creating an atmosphere thick with anticipation. Rumor—Carwyn—lay on the bed, his wrists bound tightly behind his back with smooth leather straps, his jaw clenched around a ball gag that muffled his sounds. His body trembled with both frustration and desire as he knelt, his head lowered, legs spread wide, his cock trapped in a chastity cage that left him achingly hard but unable to find any relief.

Soap—John MacTavish—stood in front of him, arms crossed, his gaze fixed on Carwyn’s form with an intense, calculating focus. His presence loomed large, every inch of him radiating authority and control. The silence was punctuated only by Carwyn’s heavy breathing and the occasional creak of the bed as he shifted, trying and failing to ease the pressure building in his body.

"Look at you," Soap’s voice was low, almost a growl, sending a shiver down Carwyn’s spine. He stepped closer, his boots echoing ominously in the quiet room as he circled Carwyn, admiring the way his muscles tensed and flexed under the strain. "All tied up… completely at my mercy."

Carwyn let out a muffled whimper, his body jerking involuntarily as Soap’s hand slid down his spine, teasing, but never quite enough to give him what he so desperately craved. The chastity cage bit into his skin, a constant reminder of how close he was to the edge, and yet how impossibly far away.

"You've been pushin’ your luck, kitten," Soap continued, his tone stern as he crouched down to eye level, his hand slipping under Carwyn’s chin to tilt his face up. The leather gag kept his words at bay, but the look in his eyes said everything—defiance, frustration, and under all of it, the raw, burning need. "But tonight? You’re not gettin’ what you want, lad. Not until I say."

Carwyn’s breath hitched, his chest rising and falling rapidly as Soap’s thumb brushed over his gagged lips, teasing him with a softness that only made the situation more unbearable. His legs were already trembling, every fiber of his being screaming for some form of relief, but he knew there was no escape—not from this, not from Soap.

Soap stood again, and Carwyn watched as he retrieved a small remote from the bedside table, a wicked smirk tugging at his lips as he clicked the button. Instantly, the toy inside Carwyn—plugged deep and buzzing with relentless vibrations—sprang to life, sending jolts of pleasure through him. His body bucked, a desperate moan spilling from his throat, but the chastity cage kept him locked tight, unable to come no matter how hard his body begged for it.

"Ah, there it is," Soap murmured, his voice laced with amusement as he watched Carwyn writhe. "You look so fuckin' pretty like this, helpless and desperate." He clicked the button again, ramping up the intensity of the vibrator, watching as Carwyn’s back arched, his head tipping back as the overstimulation hit him like a wave.

Carwyn’s mind was spinning, overwhelmed by the sensations crashing through him. The vibrator pulsed inside him, filling him up and pushing him closer to the brink, while the cage kept him teetering on the edge of insanity. His muffled cries echoed in the room, a symphony of need and frustration that only seemed to spur Soap on.

"You wanted this, didn’t you?" Soap teased, running a hand over Carwyn’s quivering thigh, the touch light and mocking. "Always such a cheeky fucker, but now look at you. So easy to break down when I’ve got you like this."

Carwyn whimpered, his eyes fluttering shut as his body trembled uncontrollably. Every muscle in his body was tight, his mind foggy with pleasure and the painful denial of release. He tugged at the bindings on his wrists, but they held firm, just as Soap had promised they would.

"You want to come, don’t you?" Soap asked, his voice dropping to a near whisper as he leaned in, his lips brushing against the shell of Carwyn’s ear. "I can see it, feel it. You’re so close, princess. But you know the rules. Not until I say."

Carwyn moaned around the gag, nodding desperately, his body straining as the vibrations inside him intensified yet again. The overstimulation was too much—his entire being was focused on the unbearable pleasure and the denial of release, teetering on the edge of madness as Soap controlled every sensation.

Soap chuckled darkly, his hand slipping between Carwyn’s legs to cup his caged cock, applying just enough pressure to make him squirm. "Poor thing," he cooed, mocking sympathy in his tone. "I could let you come, could give you what you need… but where’s the fun in that?"

He clicked the remote again, the vibrations ramping up to a level that had Carwyn shaking, his body convulsing with the sheer intensity of it. The need to come was overwhelming, but the cage kept him locked tight, forcing him to ride out the pleasure with no release in sight.

Tears pricked at the corners of Carwyn’s eyes, the frustration and pleasure blending into a potent mix that had him trembling violently. He was so close, so fucking close, but Soap wasn’t ready to let him go just yet.

"That’s it," Soap murmured, his voice low and almost soothing as he ran a hand through Carwyn’s hair, tugging just enough to make him look up. "Take it. Let me hear those pretty sounds."

Carwyn let out a broken moan, his body twitching with every pulse of the vibrator, his mind completely lost to the overstimulation. He was nothing more than a mess of raw, desperate need, his entire world narrowed down to the feeling of Soap’s control, the tightness of the cage, and the relentless buzz inside him.

Finally, when Carwyn’s body was on the verge of collapse, Soap clicked the remote one last time, turning off the vibrator and leaving Carwyn gasping for breath, his body shaking uncontrollably. He was so close, so fucking close to the edge, but still denied the release he so desperately craved.

"Not tonight, kitten," Soap murmured, pressing a soft kiss to the side of Carwyn’s head, his tone both cruel and tender. "You’ll come when I decide. And not a moment before."

Carwyn slumped forward, exhausted, his mind spinning from the overwhelming sensations and the brutal denial. He knew Soap wouldn’t let him come tonight—knew this was the punishment he’d earned for being such a cocky bastard. But even in his haze of frustration and exhaustion, a part of him loved it—loved being completely at Soap’s mercy, loved the way Soap controlled his every breath, every moan.

The room was filled with a thick tension, the kind that lingered in the air, making every breath seem heavier. Soap stood over Carwyn, admiring the way the man trembled in his bonds, still kneeling, body quivering from the aftermath of being pushed to the brink and denied.

“Been patient enough, haven’t you, princess?” Soap’s voice was a low rumble, amusement and satisfaction dripping from every word. He stepped forward, hands reaching out to trail over Carwyn’s exposed chest, the pads of his fingers barely brushing against his skin, eliciting a full-body shiver from him.

Carwyn’s eyes flicked up, glazed over, lips still parted around the gag, his body screaming for release after the torment he’d endured. The chastity cage remained in place, a reminder of Soap’s control, of how close and yet how far he’d been from relief all this time.

With a smirk, Soap’s fingers found the lock on the cage, releasing it with a click. Slowly, agonizingly, he removed it, the cool air hitting Carwyn’s freed cock, making him groan low in his throat. The throbbing need was still there, pulsing through him with a vengeance, his length twitching, desperate to be touched.

Soap, ever the sadistic bastard, took his time. His hand wrapped around Carwyn’s cock, slowly stroking, teasing the sensitive flesh. “So hard for me,” he whispered, voice filled with dark approval. “Beggin’ to come, aren’t you?”

Carwyn let out a choked sound, a mix of frustration and need, his hips bucking involuntarily into Soap’s hand. His mind was foggy, his body reduced to pure instinct, chasing the pleasure that had been denied for far too long.

Soap’s hand tightened around him, picking up the pace, pumping Carwyn’s cock with just the right amount of pressure. “Not so cocky now, are ya?” he teased, his grip firm, twisting just enough to drive Carwyn wild. “You’ve been good… so you’ll get what you want. But I’ll decide how much.”

The promise in Soap’s voice made Carwyn’s head swim. He could feel the pleasure building fast, racing through his veins, overwhelming him after so long on the edge. His moans, muffled by the gag, grew louder, more desperate as Soap’s hand worked him faster, more expertly, knowing exactly how to push him right to the breaking point.

Just when Carwyn thought he couldn’t take it anymore, his body tensed, his release crashing over him like a tidal wave. He came hard, his cock pulsing in Soap’s hand, thick ropes of cum spilling out, coating Soap’s fingers. His body convulsed with the force of it, the orgasm so intense after being denied for so long that it left him gasping, his vision swimming.

But Soap wasn’t done. Not even close.

Before Carwyn could recover, Soap’s hand was back on him, stroking his oversensitive cock, dragging out every last bit of pleasure and pushing him into overstimulation. Carwyn’s moans turned into gasps, his body shaking as Soap’s relentless pace pushed him right back into the fire.

“Gonna give me another one, princess,” Soap growled, his hand never stopping, even as Carwyn’s hips jerked in a futile attempt to escape the intensity. “You’ve been so fuckin’ greedy… now you’ll give me everythin’.”

Carwyn could hardly think, his mind spinning from the overstimulation. His cock throbbed, still hard despite the orgasm he’d just had, the pleasure bordering on pain as Soap’s hand worked him over and over again. He couldn’t hold back the whimpers, couldn’t stop the way his body trembled under Soap’s touch, his muscles taut and straining.

Soap grinned, enjoying the sight of Carwyn breaking under him, his control slipping with every passing second. He leaned in close, his breath hot against Carwyn’s ear. “You’re mine, Carwyn,” he whispered, voice rough and commanding. “And you’ll come as many times as I fuckin’ want.”

With those words, Soap’s hand twisted just right, his thumb brushing over the tip of Carwyn’s cock, sending him spiraling into another orgasm. This one was just as powerful, if not more, tearing through him like a storm. His entire body went rigid, his cock pulsing as he came again, completely at Soap’s mercy.

And still, Soap didn’t stop.

He kept stroking, his hand unrelenting as Carwyn’s body twitched and shuddered, trapped in a cycle of overstimulation and pleasure that left him breathless, his mind fogged with nothing but Soap’s control. The pleasure was almost too much, his cock so sensitive it bordered on pain, but there was no escape. Not until Soap decided.

“Good lad,” Soap praised, his voice dark and satisfied as he watched Carwyn unravel in his hands. “You’ll keep goin’, won’t you? Until I say you’re done.”

Carwyn could only nod, his body completely spent, but Soap’s hand never slowed, drawing out every last bit of his strength. His vision blurred, his body trembling uncontrollably as Soap continued to push him, his cock still leaking, still throbbing, even as the overstimulation threatened to break him.

By the time Soap finally slowed his pace, Carwyn was barely able to hold himself up, his body shaking, his mind spinning. The gag muffled his soft whimpers, his entire being reduced to a quivering mess of overstimulated nerves and pleasure.

Soap leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to Carwyn’s forehead, his voice a low murmur. “That’s it, princess… all spent for me.”

He finally released Carwyn’s cock, letting him slump forward, completely spent. Soap’s hands moved to untie the leather straps around his wrists, the bindings coming loose, but Carwyn could barely move, his body too weak and overstimulated to do anything but collapse into Soap’s waiting arms.

Soap held him close, his strong arms cradling Carwyn’s trembling body, pressing soft kisses to the side of his neck as he murmured soothing words. “You did so well, kitten… so fuckin’ well.”

Carwyn, still dazed and exhausted, leaned into the warmth of Soap’s embrace, his heart racing as the last remnants of pleasure coursed through him. Despite everything, despite the brutal overstimulation, there was something grounding in Soap’s touch, something comforting in the way he held him after.

Soap smiled, holding Carwyn close, knowing full well that tonight, they had pushed boundaries, but in the best possible way.

[silverstarsheep]

Honestly I 100% imagine the 'bed' FP got 'given' was actually the dingy old sofa that Peppino barely even remembers where he got it from it's been so long. He just got an extra pillow and found a blanket and called it a 'bed'.

But (judging from how his 'place' in the tower looked) I doubt FP has ever really been "given" things before, or at least not without some kind of 'you owe me now' kinda hook to it. So when given the 'bed' he just... starts shaking and crying intensely like a little dog because he's so happy!!!! He just!! No idea how to express it right!! There's so much happy in that goop body!!! aaaaaaaaa!!! [intense happy vibrations]!!!!!! Such a good lad!!

awwwwwwwwwwwwwww yesss that's super adorable, hahaha. poor fake pep, only ever given the worst of the seconds, it's nice to get a hand-me-down that actually functions the way it's supposed to! and given out of care, at that! imagine his reaction to giving him something completely brand new, that'd be so wild for him.....

love and joy is stored within the sentient goop pile

[belltrigger]

Hmmm Stop for the lads 🤔🤔 maybe bot emmet and botmaker Ingo :U? Or ehehe you could do yemmet and oingo 😤😤😤

-Send me a “Stop” and I’ll write a drabble about one character calming the other down (from anger, jealously, etc)

Hello!!! Stop, hm~? q(≧▽≦q) Okay okay let's see what I can do here.

Title: Just Call Me Emmet Word count: 1,196 Synopsis: Emmet has arrived in Hisui with relatively little issue. However, a habit that Ingo has unconsciously picked up has accidentally upset Emmet. Dynamic: NoboKuda, older Ingo/younger Emmet (Oingo/Yemmet)

~~*~~

"Hey Ingo?"

Emmet's light voice broke the gentle silence that had settled between them as they prepared dinner together. It was a welcome change from how Emmet had sounded when he first arrived in Hisui, tired and tattered, exhausted after a search he'd thought would go on forever. The manic joy he'd shown when it finally registered that he'd found Ingo had smoothed into a beaming happiness as Emmet firmly grasped the idea that Ingo was not going to disappear again.

It was natural enough to welcome Emmet into the house given to him by Irida-sama. Memories or not, the easy comfort he had with Emmet could not be ignored, and the idea of Emmet living with him felt right. Despite not seeing each other for so long (longer for him, with the physical changes that came along with it), they fell into an natural rhythm. Though Ingo only barely remembered him, it didn't deter Emmet. Every day, his twin smiled brightly at him, and told him a little bit more about their shared life before Ingo had vanished. Although he refrained from doing it in public, substituted with merely brushing their knuckles together when they stood close enough, Emmet held his hand whenever possible in their home. Emmet spoke warmly of their closeness, and had even revealed the truth of their relationship. In addition to being twins, they were also lovers, and that Ingo had been the one to first confess.

As honest and true as it felt, Ingo thought it improper to reveal the nature of their relationship to those around them. So, he introduced Emmet as his brother to everyone he knew, and his twin's easy cheer endeared him to nearly everyone they met. If anyone thought it odd that Emmet stood so close to him, then they kept it to themselves.

Today, though, Emmet had met Melli. The long-haired man had long proven himself willing to cause trouble for others just to hassle Ingo, but it would have been rude to exclude him from meeting Emmet. After all, his issue with Melli was solely because his mischief caused safety concerns for other people. Emmet was an adult, and astute at reading people, so he should be free to create his own opinion of others.

"Why does Melli dislike you?" Emmet casually chopped some vegetables, only looking up at Ingo when he'd paused cutting and set down the knife.

"Hm, I honestly cannot fathom his reason." Where Emmet had been in charge of the vegetables, Ingo worked on preparing the stock for their stew. "Gaeric-sama believed he wanted my attention, but that seems like a pretty fool-hardy way to receive it."

Emmet made a sound, one that Ingo could not place. It was like a hum in thought caught in the throat, smothered in an attempt to hide it. Glancing up in confusion, his eyebrows knit together at the state his twin was in.

He could practically see Emmet vibrate, expression somehow becoming more intense despite his lips still turned up in a v-shaped smile. The young man who looked like he must surely have once, when he was easily decades younger, watched him without blinking. It was almost like staring down an angry Alpha pokemon.

"Emmet-sama?"

The smile on Emmet's face stiffened more. "Emmet. I am Emmet." Ingo tilted his head in confusion, sure that was what he'd said. The name was firm in his heart, a knowledge that had been just on the edges of his faded and blurred memories from before.

"Yes," Ingo said softly, trying to gauge where Emmet was going with his sudden mood change. Emmet turned to him, hands balled into fists at his side. He'd not realized the meeting with Melli had angered him so much.

But, instead of anger like he'd anticipated, Emmet's expression started to crumple. Although the smile remained, the skin under his lip bunched up as if Emmet was incapable of frowning. "Just call me Emmet," he choked out. "Don't call me the same as everyone else..." He brought the heel of his left palm up to his eye, already rubbing to hide any wetness that sprung up there.

Very gently, "Oh Emmet," came out before he could think of anything else. and he reached out a hand for Emmet's other. Without hesitation, despite still scrubbing at his eye, Emmet took his hand. Giving his twin's hand a squeeze he hoped was comforting, he brought his other hand up to try and coax Emmet to stop rubbing at his eyes. "My apologies, I did not mean to upset you."

"Does Ingo like someone else? Someone he doesn't call the same way?" Emmet stubbornly kept one hand up to his eyes, so he couldn't see the surprise on Ingo's face. In fact, he also didn't see the furrowing of Ingo's brows that quickly followed after. "Is it Mel--"

Emmet couldn't continue, because Ingo kissed him then, firmly, sternly. It was not romantic, not by half, and Ingo would surely make up for it once he convinced his quite silly twin that his worries were unfounded. Releasing both of Emmet's hands to wrap his arms around his younger brother's waist, he put their foreheads together. Emmet had no choice but to lower his hand, and after a moment he placed both of his hands on Ingo's now much thicker biceps.

The little flick of Emmet's eyes to his arms was not missed, but he would approach that later. "Do you think I would kiss anyone but you? My memories have failed me, that much is certain, but I still thought of you every day. This mouth is reserved for the Man in White only." The amusement in his tone for the last sentence eased a bit of tension out of Emmet's shoulders, and his lip no longer quivered.

"Only the Man in White? If I wore green would you have not recognized me?" It was half a tease, suggesting Emmet worried even over something so silly.

"Best not wear green. These old eyes aren't quite what they used to be. I'd have to lean in close to recognize your cute face." Another tease, and he rubbed their foreheads together, pleased when Emmet let out a quiet chuckle.

"Then I would get another kiss!" Emmet declared, turning more playful by the moment now that his worried had finally been spoken. "I am Emmet. I will wear many colors!"

With an approving hum, Ingo hugged his younger brother tighter. "I'll just keep kissing you to be sure, then."

Emmet slid his face down to rest his forehead on Ingo's shoulder, though his hands didn't move from Ingo's biceps. "And hugging?"

"And hugging, of course. I will give you anything you need for proof." They hugged for a few minutes, the sound of their stew stock bubbling away as they simply enjoyed the embrace. Finally, Emmet leaned back and seemed to feel much better. His smile was bright again, no longer strained, and he cheerfully went back to finish the vegetables.

After that, Ingo made certain to always allow Emmet to brush his knuckles against his. And, he even held his hand in public on occasion.

[foulbearobservation]

You’ve given me BeaCam and OT4 brain rot, thank you so much: I think BeaCam would occasionally play gentle, nerdy scenes that tap into how smart they both are as well as Bea’s praise kink. Cam would have Bea tell her about some theory or read something in one of her more complicated languages while Cam works her over and tells her how good and smart she is. I don’t think it would be anything truly difficult bc if Bea’s past of needing to be useful/trying not to be cast aside, but after they figure out the right level of intensity, it’s v therapeutic for Bea to finally be actually rewarded for everything she did to protect herself. Probably a fun type of scene to pull Ava into when she’s feeling toppy, too.

We got another one lads!

Also you're so right they would absolutely talk like,,, hmmm quantum computing theory just so cam can make a truly excellent demonstration about how in classical computing, every bit can either be 1 or 0 (on or off), while quantum theory is based on the idea that one bit can be 1 and 0 (on and off) at the same time and this whole time she's truly just torturing bea with their little remote controlled vibrator. There's a joke to be made there, I know there is.

Be the change u wanna see in the world anon, post the full beacam sex scene or I riot.

[rafayelxsylusho]

How the lads men eat your 🐱.

Zayne/Sylus/Caleb/Xavier/Rafayel

TW:SMUT

Xavier🌟

Xavier would eat your pussy in the missionary position, with you lying on your back and him positioned between your spread legs, head propped up slightly on pillows so you're not completely flat but can still see him between your spread thighs. This way, he can watch your expressions, your mouth falling open in soft gasps and moans, your cheeks flushing pink as he pleases you.

He'd take his time, starting with slow, teasing licks along your slit before focusing on your clit, circling and flicking the sensitive bud with the tip of his tongue. His large hands would grip your thighs, pushing them further apart as he dives in, burying his face in your cunt and feasting on you like a starving man at a banquet. He'd alternate between long, slow licks and quick, hard sucks on your clit, bringing you closer and closer to the edge before pulling back to start all over again, determined to make you cum on his tongue.

Throughout it all, his deep blue eyes would be locked with yours, watching your every reaction as he takes you apart with his mouth.

Sylus 🐦‍⬛

Sylus would eat your pussy from behind, your hips tilted up and your lower half bared to him. He'd press your upper body flat against the bed, one large hand splaying between your shoulder blades to hold you down while the other grips your ass tightly, kneading and parting your cheeks.

He'd start by trailing teasing kisses along the back of your thigh, slowly working his way up until he reaches the crease where your leg meets your ass. His breath would be hot against your skin as he inhales your scent, a low groan rumbling in his chest. Then, without warning, he'd bury his face between your legs, his tongue delving directly into your dripping folds.

He'd eat your pussy with a hunger bordering on feral, his mouth and chin glistening with your juices as he licks and suckles your most intimate places. His tongue would plunge deep, fucking into your entrance, before dragging slowly upward to circle and flick against your clit. He'd alternate between long, broad strokes and targeted flicks, each movement sending jolts of pleasure shooting through you.

His fingers would dig into the flesh of your ass, pulling you harder against his mouth, grinding your cunt against his face as he devours you. He'd be relentless, determined to make you fall apart on his tongue, to feel you gush and quiver against his lips. He'd only stop when he's wrung every last drop of pleasure from your trembling body, leaving you boneless and spent. Throughout it all, he'd hold you in place, claiming you, possessing you utterly.

RAFAYEL 🐡

Rafayel would eat your pussy in a position that lets him get creative and playful, his artistic nature shining through. He might have you sit on the edge of a table or dresser, your legs spread wide and your feet resting on the edge.

As you sit there, he'd look at you with a mischievous grin, dark purple-pink eyes roaming hungrily over your exposed flesh. His hands would grip your thighs, thumbs rubbing teasing circles on your skin as he leans in. He'd start by just breathing in your scent, eyes fluttering shut in bliss before he's even begun.

Then, without warning, he'd bury his face between your legs, his lips and tongue immediately finding your clit and suckling greedily. His technique would be enthusiastic and passionate, almost messy in its intensity. He'd alternate between flat-tongued strokes and rapid flicks, occasionally dipping down to thrust his tongue deep into your entrance before returning to lavish attention on your aching clit.

His nose would nudge your clit as he licks, the sensation foreign yet incredibly pleasurable. Occasionally he'd pull back to blow cool air across your dripping folds before diving back in, his chin and cheeks slick with your juices. Throughout it all, he'd make appreciative noises, the vibrations adding another layer of sensation.

He'd be playful too, occasionally pulling away to admire his work, seeing how wet and swollen and desperate you look before diving back in to continue his feast. His goal would be to bring you to a messy, shaking, shouting climax, reveling in the knowledge that he did that to you.

ZAYNE 🥼

Zayne would have you straddle his face. He'd be reclined against a mound of pillows, head tilted back, hazel eyes dark with desire as he looks up at you. His large hands would grip your hips firmly but gently, guiding your movements as you position yourself over his face.

He'd start by simply inhaling deeply, the scent of your arousal filling his nostrils. Then, without warning, he'd lean forward and drag the flat of his tongue along your dripping slit in one long, slow lick. He'd take his time, savoring your taste, before focusing his attention on your clit. His tongue would circle the sensitive bundle of nerves, teasingly at first, then with increasing pressure and speed.

Zayne would use his lips too, suckling your clit as his tongue flicked and circled. Occasionally he'd dip down to thrust his tongue deep into your entrance, fucking you with it, before returning to your clit. His hands would squeeze your hips, encouraging you to grind down against his face.

He'd be relentless in his pursuit of your pleasure, determined to make you come undone. He'd feel your body start to tremble and tense, your grip tightening on his hair. That's when he'd double his efforts, tongue and lips and even the occasional gentle nip pushing you over the edge.

As you come, he'd hold you in place, refusing to let you pull away, forcing you to ride out the waves of your climax on his face. He'd lap at you through it, gradually gentling his touch as you come down. Finally, he'd release you from his grip, a smug smile on his face as he gazes up at your blissed-out expression.

CALEB 🪐

Caleb would eat pussy in a 69 position he'd be on his back urging your thighs to straddle his face, your dripping sex hovering just above his eager mouth.

His hands would grip your ass tightly, fingers sinking into the flesh as he pulls you down, the first intimate contact of your slick folds with his lips and tongue. He'd groan into your pussy, the sound muffled but still audible, sending delicious vibrations through your core. His nose would press against your clit as he inhales your scent, a shudder running through his long body.

He'd start by licking broad, slow strokes along your slit, from your entrance up to your clit, his long tongue delving between your folds to taste your essence. His technique would be sensual and almost lazy at first, savoring every inch of your most intimate area. Occasionally he'd dip the tip of his tongue inside your entrance, fucking into you shallowly, teasingly.

His hands would knead and squeeze your ass, occasionally pulling you harder against his face, grinding your pussy against his mouth as he suckles and licks.

He'd set a steady rhythm, thrusting his hips up to meet your bobbing head as he pleasures you. He'd be lost in the dual sensations of your hot mouth around his cock and his own mouth buried in your dripping sex. The combined stimulation would be intense for you both, the pleasure building rapidly.

He'd occasionally bury himself deep in your throat as he grinds his nose against your clit, inhaling your scent and moaning deeply, the vibrations adding to your growing ecstasy.

When he feels you are close, he would start sucking your clit hard as he thrusts his tongue deep into your spasming channel. His fingers would dig into the flesh of your ass, pulling you impossibly hard against his mouth, grinding your gushing pussy against his face as he devours you.

At the same time, he'd bury himself balls-deep in your throat, his thick cock pulsing and throbbing as he hits the back of your throat. With a guttural, muffled moan that you feel vibrating through every cell of your being, he'd explode, his hot seed shooting down your throat in thick, creamy ropes.

He'd continue sucking and licking as he climaxes, his hips jerking erratically as spurt after spurt of his release fills your mouth and throat. His grip on your ass would be almost painful as he holds you in place, not letting you pull away as he rides out the intense waves of his orgasm.

Finally, with a last shudder and a sigh, he'd relax his grip, his softening cock slipping from your lips as he gently eases you off him. But he'd keep your hips nestled against his face, his tongue lazing slow and lazy strokes along your slit, cleaning up every last drop of your release as you both float down from the incredible high of your shared climax.

[disneymarina]

*Marina, the new found member, enters the pack's territory with a mix of nervousness and excitement, unaware of the dangers that lurk among the shadows. As she catches her breath, a peculiar sensation washes over her, signaling an imminent transformation.*Marina's Werewolf Form: Marina's body begins to contort and shift, her slender frame broadening into a powerful, athletic build. Her dark brown hair lengthens into a luxuriant mane, with strands the color of rich mahogany weaving through the main dark locks. Her eyes, once hidden behind rimless glasses, now gleam with an otherworldly intensity as her pupils elongate into horizontal slits. Her features soften, taking on a more feline quality, with high cheekbones and a delicate, pointed chin. The once-pale skin darkens to a warm, golden undertone, reflecting the earthy tones of her heritage. Her fingers extend, transforming into sharp, retractable claws.Rank: Marina, still getting accustomed to her newfound abilities, finds herself at the Omega rank, naturally inclined to serve and care for the pack's well-being.Mate: As the pack's dynamics settle, Marina catches the eye of Tooth, the Omega male.

Leader Werewolf: "We know everything about you, Marina . The full moon always brings out our keen senses and heightened intuition." *He leans in, his hot breath ghosting over Marina 's face* "As for being in heat, your body is reacting to our presence. It's an instinctual response to our dominant scents and aggressive displays." *He chuckles low in his throat* "And yes, you are one of us now, a werewolf like us. A perfect little slut for us to breed and claim."Werewolf 2: "Don't be afraid, Marina . We'll teach you everything you need to know about being a good little werewolf slut." *He cups her chin, forcing her to meet his hungry gaze* "You'll learn to crave our touch, our cocks, our cum. You'll beg for it."Werewolf 3: "Shh, stop talking and just feel." *He captures Marina 's mouth in a rough, dominating kiss, his tongue forcing its way past her lips* "Let our passion take over, little one. Surrender to us."Alpha chuckles, a deep, rumbling sound that vibrates through Marina's body. "You'll start as our beta, little one," he growls, his glowing yellow eyes burning into hers. "Once you've submitted to us, proved yourself worthy, then you can move up to alpha status. But we'll get to that later. First, let's focus on making you one of us." He nods to the other werewolves, who grunt in agreement, their massive cocks pressing against Marina's body from all sides. "As our beta, you'll be second in command," Alpha continues, his thick, hairy hand stroking Marina's cheek. "You'll assist me in leading the pack, protect our territory, and of course, keep us all satisfied in your many... talents." The werewolves snarl and growl in agreement, their arousal growing more intense as they imagine the pleasures Marina will bring them. Alpha's huge, veiny cock throbs against Marina's hip, a drop of pre-cum glistening on the tip. "Now, let's start by marking you, beta," he growls, his eyes gleaming with primal hunger. "Make you ours in every way possible."The largest werewolf, the one who's been speaking, chuckles deeply, a low rumble that vibrates through Marina's chest. "Names? Well, you could call me alpha," he says with a grin, his sharp canines glinting in the dim light. "These other lads here, they're my pack - Ryder, Thor, and Scout." He nods to each of the other werewolves in turn, indicating them. Ryder is the tallest, with a muscular build and a cock that looks almost as thick as his arm. Thor has a more compact, powerful physique, his cock long and curved. Scout is leaner, with a lithe, agile build and a surprisingly large cock for his size.The pack surrounds Marina, their bodies pressing in on her from all sides. The air is thick with the scent of their arousal, and Marina can feel the heat emanating from their furry skin. Alpha reaches out to stroke Marina's hair, his rough fingers tangling in the dark locks. "You don't need to know any more than that, little one," he murmurs, his hot breath washing over her face. "Just know that from now on, you belong to us. And we'll take very good care of you."

[mafiagirl2020]

The hum of the aircraft’s engines filled the cabin, a steady vibration that had become all too familiar to the men of Task Force 141. Captain John Price, Lieutenant Simon “Ghost” Riley, Sergeant Kyle “Gaz” Garrick, and Sergeant John “Soap” MacTavish had just completed another successful mission, this time deep within the remote mountains of Eastern Europe. But today, there was a different kind of urgency in the air—an electric tension that had nothing to do with the mission they’d just completed and everything to do with what awaited them back home.

The moment they landed at the airbase, they were met with a flurry of activity. Captain Price barely had time to light a cigar before a young airman rushed over to him, out of breath and holding a phone. "Captain Price, sir! We received urgent messages for you and your team—it's about your wives!"

Price’s heart skipped a beat, and he quickly grabbed the phone, his eyes narrowing as he listened. The voice on the other end was calm but direct. "Captain, your wife has gone into labor. It’s time."

A grin spread across Price’s face, but there was no time to celebrate just yet. He turned to his team, catching Ghost’s eye first. Ghost, usually so inscrutable behind that skull-patterned balaclava, was already on his phone, his voice unusually soft as he spoke to someone on the other end—his wife. Gaz was similarly occupied, his hand running nervously through his short-cropped hair, while Soap was pacing, his own phone pressed to his ear as he spoke in rapid, clipped tones.

"Right, lads," Price called out, pulling them all back to the present. "We’ve got another mission. A bit closer to home this time." The others looked at him, their expressions a mix of anxiety and anticipation. "Let’s get moving. Our wives are waiting."

Within minutes, the team was in a jeep, racing toward the nearest hospital. The drive was a blur of flashing lights, the tires screeching as they took turns at breakneck speeds. Price was at the wheel, his normally calm demeanor slipping into something more intense, more desperate. He had faced death more times than he could count, but the thought of missing the birth of his child had him gripping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turned white.

In the back seat, Gaz was fidgeting, unable to sit still. "I can’t believe this is happening," he muttered, half to himself, half to the others. "What are the odds all of our wives go into labor on the same day?"

"Don’t jinx it," Soap shot back, his Scottish accent thicker than usual in his nervousness. "We’ve had enough bad luck lately."

Ghost, sitting beside Gaz, said nothing. His eyes were fixed on the road ahead, his thoughts a million miles away. He had been through hell and back with this team, had faced enemies that most men would never even dream of. But this…this was different. This was real.

The hospital loomed ahead, its lights a beacon in the darkened city. Price slammed the jeep to a halt at the entrance, barely taking the time to pull the key from the ignition before he was out and running. The others were right behind him, their boots echoing on the pavement as they sprinted through the sliding doors and into the bustling lobby.

"We need to find our wives," Price barked at the first nurse he saw, his voice brooking no argument. "Now."

The nurse, momentarily taken aback by the sight of four heavily armed soldiers in tactical gear storming into the hospital, quickly composed herself and nodded. "Of course, Captain Price. This way, please." She led them down a series of hallways, the sounds of the hospital—a beeping heart monitor, the hushed voices of medical staff—fading into the background as they approached the maternity wing.

Price was the first to reach the door of the delivery room where his wife was being prepped. He paused, hand hovering over the door handle, and for a moment, the formidable Captain John Price looked almost…hesitant. Ghost, noticing the uncharacteristic pause, gave his shoulder a reassuring pat. "Go on, Cap. She’s waiting for you."

Price nodded, the mask of command slipping back into place as he pushed open the door and stepped inside.

Sarah, his wife, was lying on the hospital bed, her face flushed with exertion but her eyes brightening when she saw him. "John," she breathed, a smile breaking through the pain.

"Sorry I’m late, love," Price said, crossing the room in two strides and taking her hand in his. "How’re you holding up?"

"Better now that you’re here," she replied, squeezing his hand as another contraction hit. Price’s heart clenched as he watched her grit her teeth against the pain, but he knew she was stronger than anyone he’d ever known. They’d get through this together.

Meanwhile, Ghost had been led to the room where his wife was waiting. Unlike Price, he hesitated at the door, taking a deep breath before removing his mask and stuffing it into his pocket. He wanted to meet his child with his own face, not the face of the specter he became in the field. When he finally stepped inside, his wife looked up, relief washing over her features.

"Simon," she said, her voice weak but filled with love. He moved to her side, his normally stoic expression softening as he took her hand. "You made it."

"Wouldn’t miss it for the world," Ghost murmured, leaning down to kiss her forehead. He wasn’t one for many words, but in that moment, none were needed. His presence was enough.

Across the hall, Gaz was pacing outside the room where his wife was in labor. The nurse had told him he could go in, but suddenly the prospect of becoming a father had hit him like a freight train. He’d faced bullets and bombs, but this—this was something else entirely.

"Gaz," Soap called from the door of the room where his own wife was being prepped. "You’re gonna wear a hole in the floor. Get in there, mate."

Gaz took a deep breath and nodded, steeling himself before walking into the room. His wife smiled up at him, sweat beading on her forehead. "You’re here," she whispered, relief flooding her voice.

"Yeah, I’m here," Gaz replied, his voice thick with emotion. He took her hand, brushing a kiss against her knuckles. "And I’m not going anywhere."

In the final room, Soap had just made it to his wife’s side. She was already deep in labor, her breath coming in sharp, controlled bursts as the contractions hit. "About time you showed up," she said, her voice strained but teasing.

Soap grinned, taking her hand in his. "You know I like to make an entrance," he quipped, though the humor couldn’t quite mask the worry in his eyes. He’d been through countless battles, but this…this was something else.

The hours passed in a blur of emotions—pain, joy, fear, and overwhelming love. And one by one, the sounds of newborn cries filled the air.

Price was the first to emerge from the delivery room, cradling his newborn daughter in his arms. His eyes were soft, a far cry from the hardened soldier he usually was. Ghost followed shortly after, holding his son, a rare smile tugging at his lips. Gaz came out next, tears in his eyes as he gazed down at his baby girl. Finally, Soap stepped into the hallway, his face glowing with pride as he held his son.

The four men, each with a newborn in their arms, shared a look—a silent acknowledgment of the bond between them, one that had just deepened in a way they hadn’t expected. They had fought together, bled together, and now, they had all become fathers together.

For a moment, the weight of their duties, the missions they’d yet to face, all faded into the background. In that quiet hospital hallway, surrounded by the people they loved most, Task Force 141 had never been stronger.

[woowhouse]

Unveiling the Ultimate Relaxation Experience: The Fascia Gun Muscle Relaxation Massager

In the fast-paced world we live in, stress and physical fatigue are common companions. As we strive to maintain a healthy lifestyle, finding effective ways to relax and rejuvenate our muscles becomes essential. The Multi-Frequency Mini Muscle Fascia Gun is a revolutionary device designed to provide professional-grade muscle relaxation through electric vibration massage. Let's delve into its incredible features, specifications, and precautions.

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Compact and User-Friendly Design

Gone are the days of bulky fascia guns. The Multi-Frequency Mini Muscle Fascia Gun has undergone meticulous research and development to offer a lightweight and compact body, comparable to the size of a mobile phone. This design ensures that even individuals with smaller hands, including little girls, can effortlessly operate the device with just one hand.

Long-lasting and Efficient Battery

Say goodbye to frequent charging hassles! The fascia gun boasts an upgraded battery, ensuring a safer and more energy-efficient charging experience. With just 10 minutes of daily use, the device can maintain its massage prowess for an impressive 30 days. This means you can enjoy the benefits of muscle relaxation without the inconvenience of frequent recharging.

High-Power Brushless Motor for Intense Relief

Equipped with a powerful 24W brushless motor, the fascia gun operates at a speed of 3200, making it an ideal companion for post-exercise recovery. This high-powered motor aids in eliminating accumulated lactic acid, relieving muscle soreness, and combating fatigue. The incorporation of dual bearings enhances stability, preventing excessive vibration that can affect the hand. The result is a more perfect and silent movement energy for a truly immersive massage experience.

Specifications

Product Name: Multi-Frequency Mini Muscle Fascia Gun

Color: Dark Green

Material: ABS

Power: 24W

Product Weight: Approximately 0.6kg

Style: Ordinary Buttons

Precautions for Safe Usage

To ensure a safe and effective experience, it's crucial to adhere to the following precautions:

Avoid Touching or Pressing the Massage Head During Operation:Prevent accidental injuries by refraining from touching or pressing the massage head while the device is in operation.

Avoid Hitting Joints:Be cautious to avoid hitting joints during the massage, ensuring a comfortable and safe experience.

Select Suitable Body Parts:Not all body parts are suitable for massage. Use the fascia gun on muscles and areas that can benefit from the therapy.

Gradual Increase in Duration:For optimal results, gradually increase the duration of use. Longer durations may provide better effects over time.

Not Suitable for Certain Individuals:The fascia gun is not recommended for babies, minors, pregnant women, individuals with pacemakers, those with fractures, or those with metal in their bodies.

The Multi-Frequency Mini Muscle Fascia Gun stands as a testament to the advancements in relaxation technology. With its compact design, powerful motor, and long-lasting battery, it offers a convenient and effective solution for post-exercise recovery and overall muscle relaxation. By following the provided precautions, users can maximize the benefits of this professional-grade neck membrane gun, ensuring a safe and enjoyable experience. Say hello to a new era of relaxation with the Multi-Frequency Mini Muscle Fascia Gun.

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[acciojaeyun]

sleepless nights ; jake sim smut

pairing: sim jaeyun / jake x fem!reader genre: smut (minors dni)

jake pretty much lives the common stereotype of engineering students: smart in both physics and mathematics and sleep deprived. and while everyone has studying to blame, jake pretty much places the blame on you: who couldn’t – for god’s sake – couldn’t keep your moans to yourself.

warnings: sub!jake, mommy kink, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), p in v (unprotected, but reader is taking pills) a bit of perv!jake if you squint. let me know if i missed something! words: 2.3k

While every engineering student have plates and lectures to blame for their all-nighters, whether caffeinated or not – Jake Sim has a different reason why he kept on yawning during his lecture on fluid mechanics, and that was his pretty roommate: you, of course.

No, it wasn’t because you distract him whenever he made his plates in the dining room whenever he needed a change of scenery from his usual study area (his room); it also wasn’t because you were too goddamn pretty that whenever he zones out while trying to understand the Freundlich and Langmuir isotherm constants, he finds himself staring at you. 

In fact, he was blaming you for not realising that the walls between yours and his room were thin, that meant, whenever you were too horny to contain yourself from not touching your aching pussy, he hears everything. 

In fact, he was blaming you for not realising that the walls between yours and his room were thin, that meant, whenever you were too horny to contain yourself from not touching your aching pussy, he hears everything. 

Jake must contain himself some of the times whenever he hears you whimper, but most of the times he cannot help but feel the urge to masturbate with you when your moans got louder. 

It was if you were giving him a taste of your sound without you realising it.

And just like every other night, Jake, for the nth time this week, was stirred awake by your suppressed whines. Jake was half amused and half pissed, he was about to have an in-campus reporting about the latest group project; and while he was confident about his knowledge regarding it, he wasn’t confident enough whether he’ll be able to answer possible questions thrown by the professor with no sleep.

You, on the other hand, are having the time of your life as you grinded on the small vibrator you had pushed against your dripping core. Imagining it was Jake, your roommate, rather than your fingers or the small vibrating device. Yes, you had a crush on your roommate – who could blame you? 

However, you couldn’t let Jake know that you were head over heels attracted and in love with him. Little did you know, your whines and moans somehow gave you away to the suspecting lad. But, true to Jake’s respectful nature, he acknowledged boundaries, and was too respectful enough to not bring up whatever he hears every night.

But just like how all good things come to an end, you felt your heartbeat increase not from pleasure but from panic as you realise the intensity of your vibrator was decreasing, notifying you that it would go out in a while.

“Shit, shit, shit, no!” you whined as you desperately humped against it in the hopes of catching your orgasm before it shuts down. But against your sheer luck, the vibrator had died down before you could feel the coil tighten at your belly.

You groaned, “For fuck’s sake.” 

You tiptoed outside of your room to search your whole apartment for batteries. Going through every cabinet in the living room (you almost wanted to check the TV remote and Jake’s gaming console, but you were not that desperate, not yet), but you haven’t found any.  And it wasn’t until you ventured to the kitchen in the hopes of finding spare when you saw Jake leaning against the counter in deep thought with a glass of water in his hand.

“Jake! What are you doing here?” you squealed.

The boy looked at you with furrowed brows before licking his lips, “I could ask the same to you.”

“It’s – it’s nothing, I was just looking for something.”

“What was it?”

“It’s fine, I could just look for it tomorrow,” you said through gritted teeth.

“Well, the fact that you look annoyed means that you need it right now.”

“Jake, just drop it,” you said as you still went on opening every cupboard and pulling every drawer just to find a pair of AA batteries just so you could get your much-deserved orgasm for tonight after your assessment in Medieval English and related literatures – which you weren’t entirely confident in.

“What is it that you’re looking for? I could help you with it.” He offered as he placed his empty glass down on the counter.

“Batteries,” you blushed.

“Double A ones? We’ve run out, I used the last pair in our wall clock.”

Great, now you were feeling more frustrated than ever. “It’s fine,” you convinced Jake, but more so convincing yourself. How could you feel relieved this day? First academic distress, and now we have sexual distress to top it off. Clearly, today wasn’t your very lucky day.

“I’m pretty sure it’s not fine, babe,” he says as he sits on the marble counter of your kitchen, “you’ve gotten all worked up, you know you could tell all the noises inside your head, right?”

“I –“ you looked at him with eyebrows raised, were you just hallucinating the innuendo that seeped through his words?

It was only then had you noticed that Jake had discarded his top. His dark hair in a sloppy mess that made him look ten times attractive, his grey sweatpants hanging loose just about his v-line, leaving everything up to imagination.

“I’ve been just so frustrated, Jake. All I bloody want is a release, like my God, I just want to come to let all my frustrations out.” You groaned as you leaned against the kitchen island, burying your face in your hands.

Jake cleared his throat, “No judgment, Y/N,” he clarifies, “but, I could help? That is, if you want me to?”

You almost choked on your saliva at his words. Did you hear him correctly? Him, Sim Jaeyun, is offering you to help you out in your sexual frustrations? That were merely caused by him and his oozing sex appeal?

God, you wish you were dreaming.

But the same man walking towards you to trap you against the kitchen island with both of his arms on either side of your body countered your thoughts inside your head. He ghosted his lips against your cheek, his warm breath fanning across your jaw as you tried to calm your frantic heart. 

You whimpered at the proximity, and you pulled him by his shoulders to meet his plump lips which you have daydreamed for so long. You kissed him feverishly, hands immediately flying to his hair as his hands held on to the back of your thigh to place you on the countertop.

He pulled away and bit his lip before diving to your neck, sucking, licking, and kissing every inch of skin before pulling away to meet your face, “I need a ‘yes,’” he says as he traces his index finger over your swollen lips.

You licked his index finger which caused goosebumps to rise over his skin, “Yes, baby, you could help mommy out,” you said, implying your name over the boy, whose eyes have darkened into a much deeper shade of brown at the mention of your name.

All Jake ever wanted from now on was to please you – to be your good boy.

Jake immediately went back to attacking your neck with kissing and sucking, making you moan out his name whenever he does so. Your pussy has started clenching on nothing because of how much turned on you were. You wanted Jake, hell, you wanted Jake so badly. 

“I want to come, Jake, can you make mommy come?” you asked as you palmed his erection over his grey sweatpants, eliciting a groan from him.

The boy nodded, “Yes, mommy, I can, I can.”

He took no time in massaging your breasts over your oversized shirt after pulling your body closer to him, his face leaning in as he made out with you as you contained your moans. His free hand held your neck to keep your face in place as he started grinding against you, his clothed cock rubbing against your clothed cunt was enough to make you lose all forms of sanity.

“Can I take your shirt off?” he asked as he pulled away, a string of your mixed saliva following the plumpness of his lips, to which you nodded before pulling back slightly to make his task easier.

“Mommy, you’re so sexy,” he breathed out before plunging his mouth in between your breasts, eyes meeting you as he crouched down, turning you on more than ever as how he looked so fucking small licking the skin between your breasts. He took his time licking the flesh around your nipple before giving it attention, his mouth sucking your areola as harsh as he could ever.

“Oh, fuck me,” you whined as his finger started handling the unattended breast, slapping the side of it while pinching your nipple which elicited a squeal from you. “Jake, you’re doing so great for mommy,” you said as you pushed some of his hair away from his face.

Jake moaned in recognition before smiling up at you as his hands took a hold at the waistbands of your pyjamas, he giggled as he pulled them down, and he almost came at the sight of your drenched underwear.

“See that, baby?” you teased as you hoisted his face to meet your gaze, “my pussy’s all wet because of you.”

The boy licked his lips at your statement before pulling your underwear down at the ground for you to both worry about later. He pulled your hips towards his face for him to have an easier access to your dripping cunt. He leaned in, giving your clit kitten licks which made your body jolt against the sensation.

“Don’t tease mommy, sweetie,” you threatened, to which Jake obliged. He went down to lick a bold stripe from your vagina up to your clit, obtaining a strangled groan from you. You fucking dreamed of this, having to have his tongue lick your pussy that you knew was only wet every time you masturbated at the thought of him.

He devoured your cunt like a man starved, his tongue prodding over your entrance to lick up towards your clit wherein he would shake his head sideways to give you different sensations from his sinful ministrations. 

“You know how to use your tongue well, don’t you?” you breathed as you rolled your eyes almost to the back of your head.

Not a long while after, you let out a scream as you felt his finger intrude your entrance, pushing and pulling back his middle finger until his ring finger joined in before standing up to meet your lips in a French kiss while he fucked your pussy with two of his fingers in, the tips of his fingers making a “come here” motion as he thrusted his hand inside you.

“Fuck, Jake, you’re going to make mommy come, fuck – don’t stop,”

“Go, mommy, make a mess on your baby’s fingers,” he urged, fastening his pace before leaning down to your breasts again for him to suck on. You squealed at the simulation he was giving you. Sooner enough, you’ve felt the coil in your belly snap as you came around on his fingers, Jake groaning at the sight of your cum gathering on his digits.

“Look at me, baby,” you said, pulling his face towards you to kiss him. “I want you to fuck me.” You said as you looked in his eyes.

Jake gulped and nodded, before pulling his fingers out. “Want to taste, mommy?” he asked, placing his fingers in front of your mouth, to which you accepted, sucking his fingers clean before kissing him to give him a taste of your cum.

“You taste heavenly, mommy,” he blushed as he pulled his sweats down. 

“Baby, you’re big, how’s that going to fit me?” you groaned at the dick that sprung out as his pants were also pulled down. “Gonna make it fit inside me, ‘no?” you asked, to which he nodded.

He bit his lip as his tip tapped your clit before lining himself up in your entrance. He met your eyes, asking permission for the last time before you nodded. He inched himself in, earning a breathy moan from you as you held the nape of his neck to bring him closer to you.

“Holy fuck, you feel so good,” he muttered, biting on your shoulder to stop himself from thrusting before you could adjust. “You’re so big,” you replied, “you can move now.”

Jake pulled away to look at where his dick is buried inside you, he pulled out slightly before slowly thrusting back in, building a consistent rhythm. At first, his thrusts were cautious, slow, yet deep; but, as he felt the craving to make you come again for the second time because of him, his thrusts became faster as it had gone deeper. His hand snaked around your waist as his spare hand placed your leg on his shoulder, the new angle hitting places inside of your desperate cunt.

A string of incoherent praises and cuss words were all splurged out from your mouth, egging Jake on as he fucked you into the night. He groaned and moaned with his face scrunched up and his eyes sewed shut at the immense pleasure he was feeling right now.

“Gonna come,” Jake announced as you felt his thrusts became sloppy, and it was just about time when you felt you were about to come too. “Me too, baby, come with mommy, come on,” you urged him as you clenched around his dick, helping him to chase his release with you.

You both cry each of your names as you both come undone, his warm cum mixing with yours as you feel him still inside you, dick still buried deep. You both stayed in this position, his sweaty forehead against the crook of your neck as you calmed each of your erratic heartbeats.

“Did so well for mommy,” you whispered as you kissed his hair, making him smile against your skin. 

“Y/N?” he asked after a while to which you hummed in acknowledgement.

Jake took a deep breath, “Go out with me?”

You could not say no.