#(non holographic)

[magicalshopping]

♡ Holo Old English Acrylic Pronoun Pins by NerdyKeppie ♡

♡ Use the code RINIHIME for 10% off! ♡

[thatbitch151]

I’ve recently started to truly deconstruct the internalized toxic masculinity I developed from watching Kalvin Garrah when I first came out as trans 6 years ago.

Because of him I didn’t realize I was non-binary for 5 and a half years, because I thought that wasn’t an option. I thought I wasn’t trans enough because I didn’t have bottom dysphoria, or hip or leg dysphoria, I was worried that I “couldn’t be trans” without those things. It was hard and really brought down my mental health.

Now, I fully recognize my non-binary identity, I’ve learned to be happy I don’t have as much dysphoria as others do, and I’ve very recently started branching out into more typically feminine stuff.

Yesterday for the first time in years, I painted my nails. They’re not good and my nails are already horrible to begin with from chronic nail biting, but I’m hoping to get better at it as time goes by.

I am healing :)

[zilluzion]

@puyocake331 has the most swag actually pwyw sketch!

[calcollectstcg]

The oldest (non-holo Jungle Vaporeon) and newest (full art Paradox Rift Maushold ex) cards I have in my collection!:) It’s fun to see how Pokémon card styles change over time

[maraschinotopped]

i dont think i ever mentioned it here but i got into yugioh recently... while i do have a cyberse deck for actual play i feel like im honestly having more fun just collecting cards i like? its just clicking for me more.

also realized how much i love robot designs because god so many of the yugioh cyberse cards have such KICKASS robot designs.

[businesscatfelix]

do you want a dope holographic sticker of a dingo that donates ALL proceeds besides shipping fees to a dingo sanctuary?

[then have i got the sticker for you!]

i have FIVE of these guys left and i'm not getting this design reprinted. for every $10 aud sale, i donate $10 aud to the australian dingo foundation, which is a dingo sanctuary on the outskirts of my city that takes care of dingoes and works to educate the public on their importance in our ecosystem.

[don't want a sticker? you can donate directly here!] there's a paypal link in the footer of the page if you don't want to do a direct bank transfer.

[pandapattycake]

In ‘Today I learned” land, I read that the horn on a narwhal is actually a tusk, and that males are the ones usually to have them. This narwhal is non-binary though and we respect them for being their beautiful selves ❤️

Grab them and their friends here!

[mechahero]

oops! (almost) all blue!

[stopfunkinwmyheart]

I was just telling my brother how one time my mom took me into this dark old pharmacy that wasn’t like the main one in town. They probably had a light out or just not great lighting but in my memories it was like a dark ass store lol. Anyway I remember we were in there and I get a pack of Pokémon cards. I’m pretty sure it was fossil but I really don’t remember. I show off my pulls in daycare the next day and everybody was tripping out that I found first edition packs.

[silver-lily-louise]

.

[runa-falls]

FREE USE WITH MIGUEL? LIKE ANYWHERE ANYTIME?

a/n: YES NONNIE, ANY--FUCKING--TIME. AND HERES ONE OF THOSE TIMES :^) idk if this is free-use or feral!reader or both. anyway, just enjoy it lol. like every time, this got away from me

special thanks to mona (@whatthefishh) for letting me scream this shit to her over discord + for helping me figure out exactly what 'free use' is lol

cw: smut (18+), free use kink, small very small bit of somnophilia (CAN'T ESCAPE IT), non-explicit oral (m-receiving), afab!reader, mentions of ovulation (+ period) horniness, fingering, cockwarming, fucking w/ multiple orgasms, the same Spanish pet name used over and over, reader is basically a bothersome cat, writer is so all over the place it's confusing.

wc: 2.4k (this was supposed to be a quick thot but wtvr)

---

miguel is a gracious boyfriend, he practically lives to please you. so when you approach him in the middle of the day with nothing but his shirt draped over your figure, he has a hard time rejecting your advances.

sure, he tries, but every time he gives you what he wants.

you're spoiled, really.

miguel works at home as much as possible. he hates having to leave you before the sun rises, walking away from a perfectly cozy bed and wet cunt (😳).

miguel convinces himself that Spider HQ can survive a day or two without him on site. he has several capable Spiders that do most of the heavy lifting for him and LYLA isn't afraid to take charge, sitting her holographic ass in the boss' chair.

he can set up mission plans and keep track of everything from his laptop, and he's always on call if he is needed for anything. the only issue is that working remotely doesn't work when he can't get anything done.

he's trying to go over notes from a meeting that was held earlier this morning.

he was supposed to be there, but you physically wouldn't let him out of bed. he swears you're a Spider yourself with the strength you have when you're especially needy and sleepy.

he smelled it when he woke up in the middle of the night to you mouthing over his boxers, that decadent sweetness that indicates you're ovulating.

you were desperate to get a taste of him, to fill that unbearable emptiness inside of you, whimpering with relief when you finally feel his fingers bury themselves in your hair to push your further against his bulge.

he learned early in your relationship that your insatiable appetite for him increases tenfold during your window of fertility (don't even mention your period). and so does your need for sleep. so he caters to your needs accordingly.

you passed out after convincing him to fuck the heat out of you, to snuff out the fire until your neediness recedes. apparently, the only time you aren't horny is when you're sleeping (though that isn't true... you wake up horny all the time??).

you've been sleeping soundly ever since, utterly exhausted by his thorough support, but he knows that once you wake up, you'll be crying for him again.

he crawled back into bed with you after telling LYLA to take over for the day, but after a few hours of almost suffocating because of the way you curl up on his chest like a cat, he got up to get some coffee and finish some computer work.

as soon as his warmth left you, you fussed. eyes still closed as you whined and moaned for his body. he shushed you, gently smoothing down your bedhead until you settled.

it didn't last for long.

you padded out of bed with bleary eyes, clearly looking for him when you walked into the living room. he offered you a quick "morning, cariño." before focusing back on his computer. he had to limit as much contact with you as possible if he wanted to finish his work.

just a few more pages and a couple of emails, and then he can give you all the attention you need.

his shirt brushes against your thigh like a summer dress as you make your way through the room.

he looked adorable with his loose white long sleeve on and black dad-glasses. his hair is still curly and fluffed, telling you he wasn't planning on leaving you anytime soon.

you shuffle over to the couch, sitting next to him with a sigh.

he doesn't react.

somehow, the minimal recognition that you're there, his adamant refusal to look at you, turns you on as much as it irritates you.

he's really trying his best to be a good boss, hm? trying to resist a temptation that's barely a foot away from him.

it makes you feel dirty and deprived. you blatantly rub your legs together, urging him to look. your gaze washes over his sharp jawline watching as it clenches at your soft coos.

"...baby."

"'m working, amor." his voice is still soft, despite the efforts he's taking to ignore you.

you huff.

"but--"

"not right now."

you scoot closer to him, strategically allowing the hem of his shirt to ride up on your thighs. so he's really going to make you do it...

you tug at his sleeve, taking his arm away from his work (though it doesn't look like he was working on much at all, he's been sitting on that exact page for 5 minutes now).

"not right now, mi vida..." he protests lightly, but he doesn't move away. he's not even trying, you think.

you smirk at his empty words. you can see the way he's looking at you: your messy hair, bare legs, the shadow of his shirt hiding away your most sensitive spot. his breathing grows heavier and so does his stare.

"i have work--" miguel is always so soft and sweet to you, melting in your hand though he has all the power to stop it.

"please, miguel? just one, for me?" his lips part as you place his hand against your bare thigh, slowly dragging it upwards until it meets your center.

he doesn't take his hand away, doesn't even pull back a single inch, instead, he instantly complies, cupping his warm hand over its entirety. he chokes out a low groan. you're not wearing anything underneath.

"ok, i guess if it's only once..." he whispers, already breathy. he's leaning over you, almost on top of you, forcing your legs to spread impossibly wide.

he watches as his finger rubs against your slick center, spreading your wetness until you're glistening for him under the late morning light. he pushes in slowly, so slowly, eyes flicking up to your face to witness the small o your mouth makes as he presses in deeper.

his mouth waters as he fingers you, he wishes he had enough time to go down on you, and taste your slick straight from the source. he knows how much you love it when he fucks you with his tongue and suckles on your clit. but no, he has work to do. he needs to get you off so he can finally focus.

"this what you needed, cariño?" it's all but growled into your space, his voice low and taunting. all you can do is nod with bleary eyes as your hands grip onto his thick bicep for support.

he adds another finger and thrusts them into you quicker, angling them just so his palm can gently nudge at your clit. he can feel you tightening around him already, fluttering with each pass that he makes against your g spot. he presses harder, drinking in your choked gasp and shaking thighs.

you're so wet, spilling over his fingers and dripping against his hand. the noises between you are deafening. a mixture of sopping thrusts, heavy breathing, and quiet mewls fill the still silence of the living room.

he's so good at this, too good at this.

how can he make you fall apart with just his hands, caress every sensitive nerve with a single stroke?

you're at the cusp of euphoria. your body, filled to the brim with pleasure, urges you to let go, to take what you want. but you don't want to. you want to stay at the edge forever with his hands on you, to be at the center of his affections, always just one breath away from transcendence.

you're not ready for him to stop touching you anytime soon, you realize. you still need it and after you'll need it again. you need him.

his glasses start sliding as he looks down at you, dropping until they're barely at the tip of his nose. he's focused, eyes locked on how he fills you again and again.

his fingers speed up, expertly aiming against that special spot inside of you. your hips rise from the couch, needing him as deep as possible. then it all falls apart.

you cry out, back arching and eyes rolling. your body is barely touching the couch under you and it feels like you're being lifted up by unknown forces as you reach your climax. white fills your vision and heat thrums through your limbs. you can't hide your one orgasm from him, it's too intense.

before you could recover, he slips his fingers out of you.

"alright, honey, we're done." he casually sucks your essence off of his fingers before propping his glasses back to the arch of his nose.

"ok, ok, i get it. you're busy." you pant, still pulsing from your high. and...he's already back to work. he wasn't kidding when he said he had stuff to do. "i'll just...be sitting here."

so you watch him get back to work, or you try to. the incessant scrolling, typing, reading, and muttering thoughts that accompany his work is usually enough to put you to sleep. it's an unusual lullaby that's attached to him. one that brings you the comfort of knowing he's near.

but he's hard.

he seems so relaxed, so content to work, but his erection presses so desperately against his sweats, outlined perfectly by the grey fabric.

so how could you not touch him? he clearly needs your help... and if he doesn't, then you need it.

you want to be good, you do, but when he types so effortlessly like that with the fingers that were just stuffed in your cunt, or when he looks over his dad-glasses to look at something like a hot fucking nerd, you can't help it.

it's been, what, 12 minutes? that's enough work for the day in your opinion.

you start slow, hesitantly, watching to make sure he's not looking at you (though he can clearly see you from his peripheral vision). you stand up on the couch right next to him. you're a bit unstable on the squishy cushions so you use his shoulder for support.

he looks over at you, confused as to why you decided to walk all over the furniture like a toddler.

you carefully maneuver over his arms to settle yourself on his lap. you're a koala around him, holding your torso to his, looping your arms around his neck and sharing your shimmering lustful body heat. he grunts when you scoot even closer to him, your bare pussy pressing entirely against his covered cock.

but he ignores it.

he doesn't say anything, barely even moves, and just continues to work. you pout a bit, but let him. you convince yourself that you're content with just sitting here and enjoying his company (despite the large distraction that pulses against your pussy, pressing so sweetly under your needy clit).

you listen to his steady heartbeat and slow breaths, the occasional sound of tapping keys. you nuzzle against the soft shirt that stretches over his chest. you're fine.

it's not like you're leaking all over his sweatpants, leaving a puddle at the apex of the fabric. you're not crying on the inside, so empty and fluttering around nothing. you're fine.

until you arent.

you lazily lift your hips above his, nearly head-butting his chin in the process. his arms lift to help you get settled, hands resting on your waist, as patient as ever.

you reach below you and he stiffens. he wasn't expecting you to--

your hand buries itself under his sweats, delicate fingers brushing over his erection. he breathes out your name when you squeeze him teasingly before pulling him out.

"what did i say?" he grunts, hand swiftly wrapping around your wrist. the words are lost on your ears as you caress the silky steel in your fist. it pulses at your touch. he needs this.

he says your name once more.

"you're working."

"then why are you trying to fuck me?!"

"i'm only going to sit on it." you give him an innocent look. you slowly lower yourself so your dripping center meets his before sliding your glistening lips over his hardness. "won't move or say a thing, promise!"

"cariño..."

"just wanna warm you, baby." you position him right against your entrance. "is that so wrong?" you lower yourself before he can say anything else.

you take him easily with how wet you are, and he fills you perfectly. he sucks in a breath at the feeling then growls out, "don't move."

well, you do move (is anyone surprised). you move a lot. but he moves too. harsher and more competitive. who the hell fucks competitively?

you moan over him, bouncing on his cock eagerly. his hands hold your waist, guiding your movements just how he likes it: fast and hard. his laptop, somewhere on the other side of the couch, is forgotten and probably long dead by now. so much for working at home.

you've cum at least four times already, but who's keeping count (you're not. you're so fucked out, you have to manually breathe now.)

he won't let up anymore. you asked for it and you're getting it.

"do i gotta fuck you to sleep, hm? is that the only way you'll leave me the fuck alone and let me work?"

you only admit now that you're eyes were definitely bigger than your stomach. you're practically drooling as he takes control once again, snapping his hips from under you, harsh and punishing. as if this is a punishment.

he has to carry you back to bed that afternoon. he couldn't just leave you on the couch, naked and shivering. plus you'd be a distraction with your bruised hips and fucked out cunt.

you murmur adorably in your sleep as your body unconsciously nuzzles further into his arms. he places you lovingly on the bed and you immediately curl up. he sighs, brushing your hair out of your face because he knows how much you hate it when it gets in your eyes or tickles at your nose during the night.

you look so cozy and comfortable. but so alone in this huge bed.

he debates laying down with you, only until you're in a deeper sleep.

maybe just a few minutes?

LYLA had a few choice words when he woke up in the morning....

[magicalshopping]

♡ Magical Enby Button by magicalxmeow ♡

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Creature Feature.

Yandere: Yandere!Miguel x Reader.

Word Count: 1.3k.

TW: Non/Con, AFAB!Reader, Unhealthy Relationships, Manipulation, Mentions of Non-Human Anatomy, Obsessive Behavior, and Rough Sex.

You weren’t sure when you decided the man living in your house and fathering your daughter was not your husband.

It might’ve been last week, when you caught him sitting in his unlit study hours after he’d promised he would come to bed, his eyes glowing vaguely red as he fiddled with a device you didn’t recognize with tools you’d never seen him use, before. It might’ve been two months ago, when Gabi’s teacher called you into a conference to discuss your daughter’s worrying new obsession with spiders and superheroes and the holographic women that, if what she’s been telling her classmates is to be believed, read her bedtime stories when her father wasn’t home. It might’ve been that first night – when he came home from work hours late and doting a black eye, missing the glasses you would never see him wear again and too shell-shocked to do anything more than stand in Gabi’s doorway and let you fuss over him. You’d done everything you should’ve, kissed his cheek and begged him to tell you what happened and pretended to believe him when he said there’d been an accident at the research facility, but it hadn’t felt right, hadn’t felt like it would’ve if you’d been taking care of the man you’d loved for most of your life.

And, when he snapped out of his daze long enough to drag you into his arms and pull you into a kiss more forceful than anything your Miguel would’ve been capable of, you couldn’t help but shudder, but draw back when his hands started to drift lower and he proved to share your husband’s instability, if only that. That was what made the final decision, really. He wasn’t your husband, but it wasn’t as if you couldn’t see a glimmer of something you recognized when you looked at him.

Or, it wasn’t as if you couldn’t normally see a glimmer of something you recognized.

Right now, you knew the man on top of you was a total stranger.

He wasn’t Miguel. He couldn’t have been. Miguel would never hold you so tightly, never dig his fingertips so deeply into your waist, never be so determined to keep you so suffocatingly close to him. His nails would never be so sharp – pointed claws piercing your skin, drawing blood that dripped down your sides and pooled on the sheets beneath you – and he’d never been so massive, either, bulging muscle lining his arms, his defined chest heaving with every ragged breath and strangled moan, both a far cry from the borderline malnourished lab-rat that was the love of your life. His face was malformed, misshapen; curved fangs poking past his parted lips, distorting the shape of his mouth and leaking drops of luminescent venom that fell onto your chest and coated everything they touched with the same numbing, buzzing static. Even his eyes – the eyes you’d always loved, the eyes you would’ve known if nothing else of your husband remained – were gone, drowned out by the shadows cast over his face, the darkness you couldn’t seem to shake when he was around. What little remained was tinted red and bloodshot, pushed miles past the point of remote familiarity. You’d let this stranger, this thing into your home. You’d let him drive your daughter to school, look after her when she was sick.

You hadn’t let him fuck you, but he was fucking you, and you hadn’t been able to stop him.

The sounds he was making were awful, too. Your husband had been adorably shy, prone to biting his tongue and repeating your name over and over and over again, as if the feeling of your cunt milking his cock made it impossible to remember anything else. This Miguel was, in comparison, couldn’t seem to stop making those terrible noises; throaty grunts and airy moans spilling past his lips, only partially muffled by your skin as he buried his face in the curve of your throat. One of his hands fell to your thighs, curling around it and forcing your knee against your chest, making it so he could force himself that much deeper into you, so he could thrust into you with that much more raw strength. You were glad Gabi was staying at a friend’s, tonight. Her room was next to yours, and you would’ve been surprised if there was an apartment in your building that couldn’t hear your headboard beating against the wall, couldn’t make out every pitchy rise and fall of the drawn-out whine choked out of some deep, vulnerable pocket in your chest as he buried those pointed fangs in the crook of your neck.

You felt him force something into you, your vision blurring as the blood seemed to smolder in your veins. Suddenly, the feeling of his pelvic bone catching on your clit was unbearable, your own slick now burning as it dripped down your thighs. It wasn’t a whine you let out, this time, but a sob – ragged and broken, hitched as it emerged from uncooperative lungs and further fractured by the way his chest pressed into yours as he straightened his back, as he drew back just far enough to smile down at you, to let those cruel eyes go soft and half-lidded. “Oh, mi amor…” You didn’t notice you were crying until his hand cupped your face, until his thumb swiped over your cheek and came away wet. “I could fall in love with you all over again.”

Your husband would never say that. Your husband would never imply that there ever could’ve been a world where he wasn’t in love with you, that there ever could’ve been a life he would’ve led that wouldn’t feature you at its center. Your husband would never grow fangs and claws and force himself on you with all the care and tenderness of a rampaging monster. Your husband—

Your husband wasn’t here.

Your husband wasn’t here, and it didn’t seem like he’d ever be coming back.

You curled into yourself, sobbing unabashedly. Miguel (or, whatever the creature on top of you called himself) welcomed your devastation with open arms, leaning back and pulling you onto his lap, bouncing you on his cock as a low, reverberating purr sparked in the base of his throat and filled what little empty space was left in your bedroom. He watched on as you scrambled to wrap your arms around his neck, letting out a breathy laugh as he nuzzled into the dip of your shoulder and went on. “Fucking beautiful,” he groaned, his cock practically throbbing against the walls of your cunt. “I don’t know how I got by without you. I’m never—” A fractured moan, the tips of pointed teeth ghosting over your jugular. “I’m never letting you leave my side again.”

It was a promise, a threat, spoken with enough dedication to send a cold shudder up the length of your spine. You only realized your mouth had fallen open when you heard your own voice, distant and distraught. “Who... who are you?”

Some part of you expected him to devolve, for what was left of his disguise to fall away and reveal rows upon rows of jagged teeth that would tear into your skin, countless eyes that would stare you down like some trapped insect, half a dozen more arms and hands he could use to grab and grope and pull and maim. You expected blood to spill by the bucketful, flesh to melt away like candlewax, rough edges and broken anatomy and all the terrible monstrosities that had to be lingering inside of a creature like him. You expected all the worst things you could possibly imagine, but in the end, what you got was so, so much worse.

His manic grin melted into a softened smile. He pressed another open-mouthed kiss into your throat before pulling away, staring down at you with more love than anything human could’ve spared. “I’m your husband.” And then, again, as he settled so deeply inside of you, you could only pray you’d be able to forget the feeling of him, one day.

“I’m yours.”

[jymwahuwu]

CW: yandere, non-con, implied kidnapping

A little thirsty content, inspired by this post. He’s fucking you now, what happens if he gets a call 😚?

The insistent sound of water is accompanied by the smell of sex and the sticky feel. His thumb presses the flesh of your thigh to form a dent, holding your legs open while his thick cock slides and explores inside you, drawing out the electric pleasure. There was that peaceful smile on his face. "Jing- Jing Yuan…" You stared at him through the blur of tears, pushing him with both hands. "No…stop this…"

A burst of hearty laughter rose from his throat, and he pressed his thin lips to your face for a kiss, burying his face in your breasts.

A melodious electronic sound sounded. The general raised his face from your chest and snorted, "Who's calling now?" Before you could stop him, he had already connected, a holographic image, with only Jing Yuan's expression and some naked collarbones showing. Now in front of the subordinates. You stared in horror, not daring to move, swallowing those moans.

"General, we need to discuss business temporarily here…"

"Huh? IPC has put forward new requirements?"

"Yes, General…" The voice over there stated the documents and terms of the interstellar trade, and instead of withdrawing from your body or slowing down the frequency, the cock actually pushed forward further, squeezing your warm and smooth inside… You had to cover your mouth with your hands, trembling, afraid of being discovered, but at the same time you felt the pleasure rising to another level, stirring your mind into a fog.

As more details of the agreement are revealed and discussed, the general's waist swings faster. Your limbs tensed as your orgasm erupted, squirting all over his cock. He smiled and looked down, and you were at his mercy.

On the other side of the holographic image, they only saw the image of the general smiling casually, just like he always did.

"Okay, the meeting ends here."

[sylusjinwoon]

{ 206 }

afternoon delight.

sylus x (non mc)fem.reader

warnings: an 18+ thirst post; minors don’t interact.

by choosing to interact with this 18+ content, you have consented to viewing something n-fw despite the warnings.

the moment sylus decided to slot his lips between your legs, you knew you were in for a treat.

your day started out normal enough; after having lunch that afternoon, sylus had invited you to workout with him and you quickly obliged. since he was so busy, it was often rare to spend any amount of time with him. he was dressed in his usual workout clothes, with his fists wrapped up and ready to go, and each time he walked in front of you, you take a moment to admire the thickness of his backside.

upon entering the basement that held all of sylus’s gym equipment, you watch as he headed towards the punching bag while you opted for the stationary bike. a holographic woman greets you and asks you to join her in a biking journey all across the universe. as her voice drones on and on about the sights, you were barely paying attention as you kept your gaze on sylus.

your eyes look past the hologram, nearly salivating each time sylus moves. with his fists clenched, you watch as his biceps seemed to tighten in response, revealing the delicious veins that surround his pale skin. your hungry gaze continues to move downward, taking in the sight of the prominent bulge that was settled in the front of his shorts, making your knees go weak as you struggled to keep pedaling.

sylus must have heard your soft whimpers when he suddenly stops his training, still in mid-punch. he frowns at you, eyebrows furrowed as he picks up the bottom of his tank top to wipe the sweat from his brow, giving you the perfect view of his perfectly sculpted abs. your mouth goes dry at the sight, and you were so focused on those hard wall of muscle that you missed the way sylus’s lips were tilted up in a knowing smirk.

he hums, releasing the fabric of his tank top before heading to the fridge. your legs had completely stopped pedaling now, eyes watching his every move with fervor. your lover doesn’t acknowledge your heated gaze, simply uncapping the water bottle to take copious gulps from it. the air comes out of your lungs in slow, uneven breaths, simply watching as sylus drinks his water all while admiring the way his adam’s apple bobs with each gulp. your mouth suddenly turns dry upon seeing a single droplet of water trail down his jawline and onto the base of his throat.

by then, the ache between your legs became all too prominent, all too painful for you to ignore. it were as though you were caught up in a trance, coming off of your bike while stepping closer to sylus. he sees your form approaching him and smiles. “want a sip, sweetie?”

you wordlessly take the bottle from his larger hands, licking at your bottom lip before tilting the bottle upwards and into your mouth, draining the entirety of the bottle with one last swallow before tossing the emptied plastic to the side.

you were no longer thinking clearly the moment you slide down his body, earning an amused chuckle from sylus. he keeps watching you with an eyebrow quirked, causing a light purr to escape from your parted lips as you gripped at the waistband of his shorts, pulling it down in one, swift motion as you revealed his half-hardened cock.

you press your head against him, taking the mushroom tip of his cock into your mouth, your tongue curling against the veins felt pulsating against it. he groans, hands already going to your hair as you worked on sucking his cock to full hardness with your hot mouth and stroking whatever part of him you couldn’t fit with your hands. you licked away the beads of precum, not minding the strange and bitter taste of it solely because it was coming from him. you continue to pleasure him, bobbing your head and forth until you felt the familiar twitch in your mouth, ready to drink up all he had to offer when he suddenly pulls away from you.

within seconds, his thick cock was out of your mouth, his hands already gripping at your hair as he forces you to meet his gaze. you caught a glimpse of his dilated eyes before he tosses you over his shoulder, whispering harshly in your ear, “let me return the favor, kitten.”

he walks until arriving at the showers settled off to the side of the personal gym. he strips himself of the rest of his clothes while practically ripping off the fabric of yours with a low growl. a whine of protest manages to escape from you, but such protests were immediately swallowed by the sheer intensity of his kiss.

never once removing himself away from you, he enters the walk in shower and turns on the faucet, allowing the hot water to slide down your sweaty bodies. but you barely payed attention to the steaming waters felt cascading down your form, entirely focused on sylus as he seemed to deepen the kiss. your lips were locked in a battle for dominance with the leader of onychinus, letting out a gasp when sylus manages to slam your back against the slick, shower walls.

“you’re so naughty.” you whisper breathlessly against his lips, feeling him trailing hot kisses down the side of your neck. he chuckles darkly in response to your statement, gently biting down against your shoulder while saying your name.

“oh, i’ll show you just how naughty i can be.” mischief was seen gleaming in his gaze when he spreads your legs out with the palm of his hand, making you tremble when you saw how the shower made droplets of water appear across his hair. he was already devastating to you out of the shower, yet such a sight of him beneath the spray of water was enough to make you cum right then and there.

while sylus presses his face against your entrance, your hands automatically delve themselves into his hair. much like how you did with his cock in your mouth, sylus indulges himself on the sheer taste of you. his tongue traces over your labia, collecting the arousal that coats your pussy lips with a groan. as his hot mouth was felt exploring your slick heat, you knew that sylus was going to take you to heaven.

your grip on his hair tightens when sylus introduces a finger into your aching cunt, making some scissoring motions as he sought to drink up all you had to offer. your moans echo throughout the shower stall, feeling the onslaught of his tongue and thick fingertips being too much for you. your juices were felt escaping from you in waves, and before your cunt could tighten around sylus’s fingers and the tip of his tongue-

he pulls away from you-

earning a choked sob from you. you were so close to feeling the sweet sensation of your release, only to have it be ripped away from you. tears dot your vision, and you were close to yelling profanities at sylus had he not lifted your leg up, allowing your ankle to brush against his shoulder before his cock swiftly enters you.

the moment his cock was completely sheathed within you, the ache was immediately gone. however, (embarrassingly enough), you became so sensitive that you felt yourself releasing on his cock, spilling yourself on him as sylus winces in response, feeling your walls gripping at him almost painfully.

“fuck.” sylus takes a moment to reorient himself, settling the palm of his hand against the wall while keeping your legs in an upright position with his other hand. once he feels the convulsion of your walls die down, a wolfish grin paints his expression. “aw, what’s this? did my princess already cum? since you’re satisfied, maybe i should stop?”

he was teasing you, already working removing his cock from your core when you began begging at him to stay. “no please…! one time isn’t enough…! n-need you so bad, sy!”

a dark chuckle was heard when sylus decides to drill himself back into you, the squelching sound of your eager pussy swallowing his cock while echoing throughout the shower. he pounds himself into you with a growl, feeling his cock growing within your cunt as his balls kept hitting at your ass. “you’re always s’tight f’me.”

sylus literally continues to fuck you against the shower wall, with his cock reaching the deepest parts of you, parts you didn’t even know even existed. the red hot pleasure you felt seemed to increase by a tenfold, making you lose all of your senses as sylus continued to drill himself into you.

you were vaguely aware of another dark chuckle coming from him, with his thrusts quickening as you struggled to catch your breath. “y’know, this is what you get for being such a damn tease. i saw the way you were lookin’ at me, riding that bike, wishin’ that you were riding me instead.”

your lover’s dark words were enough to make your walls tighten around him, with you letting out a moan as sylus places your leg off of his shoulder and around his waist. “come f’me… come on, princess, come f’me, wet my cock with your sweetness.”

with a hiss of his name, you arch your back against the shower wall, spilling yourself on his cock. he feels the way your warm juices slides down the length of his erection, earning a choked groan from him as he works on pumping himself into you. with one final thrust, sylus stills his hips, releasing his seed directly into you as you swore you felt him filling at your womb.

your breasts were heaving in tune with your uneven breaths, feeling sylus weakly thrusting his hips in and out of your cunt. only when he was certain that he was completely emptied did he finally stop, catching his breath as the crimson quality of his eyes returned to him.

you felt your own, post-fuck clarity begin to kick in, simply basking in the pinpricks of pleasure as you wrapped your legs around his waist and gently grind against him for good measure. sylus ends up scoffing at your movements, wincing when he felt you squeezing at his now limp cock. “tch, what am i going to do with you…? you just love pushing my buttons.”

“heh, so do you, sy.”

he rolls his eyes before wrapping both hands on your ass, ready to pull out of you and finally wash off when you refused to let him go. a handsome smirk paints his expression when he quirks his brow at you once more. you giggle and bite at your bottom lip, giving him an innocent expression when you sweetly ask, “since we’ve already made such a mess, why don’t we enjoy ourselves and have some more rounds?”

the fire seen within sylus’s gaze and the way he was felt hardening inside of you was all the confirmation that you needed, feeling him use his strength to bounce you up and down his cock as he shakes his head,

“you’re lucky you have me wrapped so damn tightly around your fingers, sweetheart. because i can never deny you of your wants and needs.”

a.n. - the chokehold sylus has me in ever since i unlocked his workout quality time 🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Mad Season 3

Warnings: non/dubcon, social anxiety, chronic illness, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Bucky Barnes, Peter Parker

Summary: a class project gets messy. (short!reader)

Note: happy weekend.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

“Hey, how’d you get in?” Peter rushes in, a tray of drinks in hand. 

You pop up on the stool, broken from your trance. Uncertain what else to do, you spent much of your time trying to distract yourself with his schematics. You twist to face him. 

“Um, Bucky,” you answer and cringe at home dumb you sound. “He helped.” 

“Bucky? Helpful?” He nears and puts the cardboard tray on the table, “I guess he can be.” He picks at the edge of the tray, “I got you a blueberry matcha. The place I hit didn’t have strawberry in season anymore.” 

“Oh, sounds... interesting, but you--” 

“Didn’t have to. I know, you always say so but I felt bad for being so late. I told may to get an airtag for her wallet. She can be so--” he stops himself and chuckles. “It’s whatever. She’s got a lot going on.” 

“Mhm,” you accept the cup he offers. “I was just looking over the plans. I think we could probably just go with yours. Makes more sense.” 

“What? Oh, no way,” he takes his iced whatever. It just looks like layers of sugar and cream. “I think we could easily bring together both. Take some of your features and mine. I don’t want to take over.” 

“Yeah, but...” 

“But nothing. Really. It’s a team project, not my project,” he insists as he hops up on the stool next to you, “so,” he swipes his hand in the air and a holographic screen appears. You flinch. “Let’s compare and redraw.” 

You gape as another floating rectangle appears before him. No wonder his look so much better than your Paint hack job. You want to sink down and disappear. You always figured you’re not interesting enough to be his friend but now you’re certain you might be too stupid and poor for him too. 

“So, I’m going to get logged in...” he mutters. 

“Um, Peter?” You murmur, “are you sure you wanna be my partner?” 

“Why... wouldn’t I?” He hovers his hand before the screen as he looks at you. 

“I dunno. I don’t... I don’t have much to offer. Not a lab, not all these cool computers...” 

“Oh this? No, it’s not—it's not a big deal. Dude, I'm so lucky Mr. Stark is letting me use this. I’m not ignorant, you know? I just thought it would be easier. I don’t think your roommates like me much and mine are so loud.” he explains as he lowers his arm, crossing both over the table as he leans on it. “Do you not want to be my partner?” 

“Nnnooo,” you drag the word out. “No, I do, but I want to contribute to and I don’t know how to use any of this.” 

“That’s cool. I’ll show you.” 

“Um, okay,” you nibble your lip sheepishly. “I guess...” 

“Did you try the tea? Is it good?” He changes the subject. He does that a lot. Pivots around before you can finish your thoughts. 

“Not yet,” you look down at the bright pink lid, “where did you get this?” 

“Some place called Berry? I don’t know. Everything was bright. You’d hate it,” he laughs again. “Oh,” he snaps his fingers as you blow into the lid cautiously. “Before I forget, I’m having a party. I know it’s not really your thing but it’s ‘my turn’,” he makes quotations with his fingers, “and I don’t really wanna but I also thought I'd invite you in case you wanted to not be there with me, too.” 

Your blink in surprise, “a party?” 

“I know, too much. Well, I didn’t wanna leave you out.” 

“Mmm,” you drone nervously. It is really nice of him to think of you and after everything else, you hate to say no. “No one ever invited me to a party.” 

“No?” His brow furrows, “really?” 

You shake your head, “I’ll come. Yeah. I’ll try. You know, it’s college and ...” you take a sip and clear your throat, “should I bring a dessert?” 

He laughs and gives you a playful grudge, “wow, I don’t think I’ve ever had anyone ask me that except my aunt’s friends. Nope, you can just come as you are. You can always bring some drinks for yourself but I’ll have more than enough to share.” 

“Oh, okay,” you nod. 

“The tea good?” He asks again. 

“Yeah, sweet,” you put the cup down. 

“Awesome!” He grins. “I really didn’t think you’d come. I’m so excited.” 

“Really?” You ask. 

“Well, duh. You’re so fucking cool. Like all my other friends, they try so hard. It’s all ‘let’s go do shots’ or ‘watch me do this dumb shit’. You don’t even try, you’re just you. It’s like people don’t realize they can just be nice and be cool for just that.” 

“I... yeah,” you don’t know what to say.  

It’s like he’s calling you boring but not. You know you are and you don’t mind but you can’t ever remember when you just felt like everyone else. Where you weren’t the odd one out. Despite trying to include you, Peter still manages to push you to the edges. 

You wince as you notice how he stares at you. You fidget and pick at the button on the front of your corduroy skirt. His eyes flick down to the nervous movement. 

“I like that,” he reaches to touch the ridged fabric, “blue. Oh, thick.” 

Your leg twitches in surprise, “uh, yeah... found it at the student thrift shop.” 

“Really?” His fingers brush over the hem and touch your coloured tights. They linger for a moment before he pulls away. “Cute. I’ve never been there.” 

“It’s not bad...” you cross your legs as you knee tingles from his touch. That was strange. 

“Well, anyway,” he waggles his fingers as he turns back to the table, “uh, where was I?” He squints at the screens and taps in the air. He pauses and looks at you. “Here, I’ll show you how it work, alright?”  

He reaches over again and you brace yourself. He grabs the underside of the stool seat and drags you closer. He it so easily, you gasp. He’s a lot stronger than he looks. He slides his hand around so his arm is diagonal around your back. 

“Right, so...” his shoulder presses to you as he points with his other arm, “you can just use your finger. I’ll have to add your prints to the program. Put your hands up.” 

You obey as he stays close. You’re overly away of it. The way he’s pressed to you. He doesn’t seem to notice at all. You try not to think of it and focus on his instructions. The project. That’s why you’re here.