#Flat Flex Belt

[alex-wire-mesh]

Flat Flex Wire Mesh Belt

Flat Flex Wire Mesh Belt is also named flat flex conveyor belt. The belt is designed for conveying a wide range of products. This wire mesh belt is customizable options for specific requirements.

1. Construction: (1) Interlocking wire design for strength. (2) High-grade stainless steel construction. (3) Precision welding for enhanced stability. (4) Open mesh structure facilitates easy cleaning. (5) Smooth edges prevent product damage. (6) Resistant to wear and tear for prolonged use. (7) Lightweight yet robust for efficient operation. (8) Designed to minimize belt stretch. (9) Options for reinforced edges for added strength. (10) Available in various belt widths for versatility.

2. Applications: (1) Food processing for hygienic material handling. (2) Heat treatment processes in industrial ovens. (3) Packaging lines for smooth product transition. (4) Automotive manufacturing for assembly lines. (5) Chemical processing for corrosive environments. (6) Electronics industry for delicate component handling. (7) Textile industry for seamless material flow. (8) Pharmaceutical production for hygiene compliance. (9) Agricultural processing for bulk material handling. (10) Mining operations for efficient ore transportation.

3. Performance Benefits: (1) Minimized downtime for increased productivity. (2) Consistent and reliable material conveying. (3) Low friction design for energy efficiency. (4) Easy to clean, ensuring hygienic standards. (5) Reduces product waste with smooth transitions. (6) Resistant to adverse environmental conditions. (7) Customizable for specific operational needs. (8) Improved worker safety with reliable operation. (9) Long-lasting performance for a solid ROI. (10) Adaptable to various speed and load requirements.

4. Customization Options: (1) Custom belt lengths for diverse Conveyor Systems. (2) Specialized mesh configurations for unique materials. (3) Color-coding for easy visual identification. (4) Variable wire thickness for enhanced strength. (5) Optional coatings for additional corrosion resistance. (6) Attachment options for specialized handling. (7) Integration of tracking systems for precision. (8) Perforations for liquid drainage applications. (9) Adjustable belt tension for optimal performance. (10) Collaboration with engineers for tailored solutions.

The product Flat Flex Wire Mesh Belt appeared first on Alex Wire Mesh.

[coyotes-rules-of-change]

The Bro Phone

As he stared at the phone, he figured a lone and worn down beach-side payphone like this one would be the perfect catalyst for an urban legend. Now, dared by a friend, he steps up to the modern relic to follow the simple process laid out in the local lore: pick up the phone and put the speaker to his ear.

Not even a dial tone. The stupid thing doesn't even work, but then—

Bro

Hold on. Did he really hear that? He presses the top of the phone tight against his ear to be absolutely sure, then, after a few more moments...

Bro

Hahaha. No way! He chuckles, perhaps a bit of a dumb chortle for his tastes but the whole thing seemed so novel he couldn't help it!

Bro

Huhuhuhuh... His chuckle was lower now, and duller. He was dumbfounded by the repeated word coming through the supposedly dead line.

Bro

His shirt unravels and falls as sand onto the sidewalk while his jeans slide up his calves, past his knees, crawling all most all the way up his thighs until the cut of the leg so short the garment barely surpasses the classifications of a brief. His bony chest and skinny legs are exposed to the open air and the thought brings a vacant grin to his face.

Bro

With the arm free from his ongoing one-note chat with the handset, e flexes his bicep, showing off his slender frame—a comic and futile gesture. But he needs to flex if he wants to be a

Bro

His biceps grow and the individual muscles of his upper arm begin to define themselves as they inflate.

Bro

Two pecs swell out of his formerly flat chest. His skin tone is adopting the perfect tan.

Bro

And below those pecs, abs carve their way down his torso, joined by a newly formed adonis belt.

Bro

His chicken legs pump up with muscle and lengthen giving him extra height—the bro phone makes sure bros don't skip leg day.

Bro

His jawline sharpens and stubble sprouts across his cheek. A mustache and a goatee form around his lips.

Bro

A final change. A bulge forms in his gym shorts. "Yooooooo. I fuckin love this!" He bellows.

And finally, he responds back to the repetitive voice in the payphone:

Bro

A click. A dial-tone. Another happy bro.

The awareness of his surroundings return and he remembers the friend who just witnessed the change. At that moment he looks up from the payphone and looks at you.

His new strength, agility, and speed left you with no chance. One second you're trying to escape and the next you feel the plastic pressed against your ear and a single word enters your mind.

Bro

[peachsayshi]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ domestic diaries

minors / ageless / blank blogs dni

ೃ⁀➷ notes: I saw this gif (top right image) & wrote a post about nanami getting turned on seeing his wife in an itty bitty tank, and I cannot get this out of my head. I need this man to **** ** until I'm ******* and ******. this is very self indulgent. forgive me lskjfd

ೃ⁀➷ tags: smut; masturbation; oral (f receiving); nipple play; p in v; rough sex; reader wears glasses

feb 3 - 8:31 pm

"look at how wet you are-" nanami exhales, a strand of gold kissing his forehead. the muscles of his strong stomach flexing when he unfastens the last button of his shirt. he pulls the fabric over his broad shoulders, taking in your hungry eyes roaming all over his body. rough hands instantly trail to the belt cinched around his waist. you whimper when he loosens the buckle, your fingers circle over your clit just a little faster as you watch him yank the leather band out from between the loops.

"n' you're hard..." you softly pant, licking your lips which only continues to exacerbate your husband’s madness to have you.

he palms over the prominent tent that's formed against his slacks, his length stiff from the sight of coming home to you earlier. you were innocently standing in the kitchen, wearing your black thigh high socks and a pair of shorts along with an itty bitty tank top that did nothing to cover you. midriff out, nipples prominent. your hair a mess, and your glasses resting comfortably on the bridge of your nose.

it was in that moment when the realization struck nanami. when he pondered when was the last time he taken you to bed. both of your schedules have been busy. neither of you have been in the mood for making love, too worn out from the stresses of every day life.

so, his reaction towards you shouldn't have been that much of a surprise. he just wished that he noted the dry spill that's hit your relationship a little bit earlier.

"hi, baby", you sweetly greeted with a smile, as he stood there dumfounded with admiration. "you're home late, I was worried you might miss dinner-"

nanami loosened his tie, swallowing the hard lump that formed in his throat as his skin scorched with heat. he can feel it prick the tips of his ears, singe the the highest parts of his prominent cheek bones, and burn it's way down his neck. he stalked towards you before you allowed yourself to get distracted, and circled his arms around your waist to pull you in for a kiss.

you were taken aback by the urgency, but you soon melted in his arms and found yourselves in the sanctuary of your bedroom.

nanami smiles - an angelic grin, full of reverie. you have to press your lips together to stop yourself from pathetically moaning at the gesture.

your husband doesn't make it easier by treating his exceptionally attractive self with such nonchalance. so completely clueless by the power he has over you.

he boldly stares at you, eyes falling to the peaks of your breasts, the tips furiously prominent against your tank top and begging for attention. he followed the path down the lower half your naked body, to the triangle between your legs where you were fingering yourself in anticipation. half your legs were still concealed by your thigh high socks, your glasses slowly falling down your nose.

he drops his shirt to the ground, bringing those fingers to push back that infuriating rogue strand of hair that carelessly fell. he cups your knees, his thumbs stroking your socks lovingly as he nestles himself between your legs. his jaw twitches when you spread your lips for him, your arousal strings of sweet sugar. nanami leans forward to peck you tenderly at the source of your desire, and the sound that travels out of your throat is so desperate he nearly cums on the spot.

"shit-" you curse, your hands moving to rest on your lower belly so nanami can touch you as he pleases.

he uses to fingers to spread the petals once again, before placing his tongue flat to broadly stroke up your slit. his eyes flutter close and the drawl of his hum is deep, sending a shiver up your belly. you bring one hand to the locks of his hair, massaging his scalp lightly as you keep the strands from falling over.

"haven't tasted you in a while, my love," nanami sighs. his hot, heavy breath fanning your cunt.

he dives in with no mercy, making your hips buck into his face while he fucks you with his mouth. he pays extra attention to your clit, sucking on the bud and flicking his tongue back and forth, and back and forth, and back and forth...your fingers dig into his scalp, your upper body nearly off the mattress as you hold him close. when nanami slides two fingers in to stretch you out, your eyes simply vanish to the back of your head. you're so soaked by the time you orgasm, tremors shaking your clenched thighs that nearly squeezed your husband's head.

you taste yourself on your tongue when he kisses you. it's sloppy, wet. completely primal. nanami only stops to remove his slacks, rbefore eadjusting your position when he climbs on the bed.

"take your glasses off," he commands, and you oblige as you place them by your side.

he flips you over, lifting your hips and creating a lovely slope on your spine. his hands graze over the socks pinching the meat of your thighs, and he widens your stance before aligning the heavy tip of his cock to your entrance.

your words are reduced to vowels, and when your husband gradually pushes himself against your folds, you release a long cry as you grip onto the sheets for support.

"oh fuck,-" nanami purrs, before pulling back and rutting deep into you. "uh-you feel s'good, s'warm..."

"kento-" your whine out his name pornographically, which makes your husband thrust into you even harder, "kento, more...please, please, please-ah~"

your tank top rides up as your body rubs against the mattress, your sensitive nipples brushing over your cool bed sheets. he's usually so gentle when fucking you, calculative even - but not tonight. tonight, his movements are unrelenting. whenever that mushroom head hits your sweet spot it has you seeing a cluster of white stars in your eyes. the sound of skin slapping skin echoes all around you, with nanami's grunts following in harmony. he's rough when he holds your hips because he's unable to hold onto any self control, because you're sucking him in, and milking his cock.

you anticipate the soreness to come.

when you orgasm a second time, tears prick your eyes from relief - it's been so long since you've had your husband inside you that you forgot how pliable you become in the process. he's so close now too, his flow staggering as his hipsstutter, until he finally releases his full load inside you.

it takes you both a few minutes to gather yourself. you can feel your husband grow soft inside you. you turn around to face him when you finally detach. sitting upright on your knees as you circle your arms around your neck, and bring your face in front of his.

you moan into a kiss, his own hands cupping your breasts chastely, his thumbs swiping over your pebbled nipples.

he rubs his nose over yours, his lips finding your cheeks as he kisses you. "you okay, my love?" he asks, always the gentleman for checking in. "m'sorry if I was rough, I..." he sighs, stealing another kiss from your lips before whispering, "I didn't realize how long it's been..."

you sniffle, your body coming down from the rushed high. "m'okay, kento..." you dreamily reassure, your lips seeking his own for another kiss, "that felt so good..."

"yeah?" he smiles before nipping at your bottom lip with his teeth and tracing that dangerous mouth down the curve of your neck. "felt good for me too, baby..."

you're like sand between his fingers, slipping through the cracks of lust and love. nanami leaves a trail of kisses down your collar bone, moving further until his lips circle over the tip of your breast.

you hiss when he sucks on it, using his hand to cup the weight. the sensation of his thumb makes you pulse between your legs, and you gaze down to watch him slowly pull away to release the bud. his eyes stay fixated on your chest, a small string of saliva connecting from your nipple to his bottom lip. he uses his thumb to wipe it away, stroking the hardened peak.

"want to keep going?" he speaks in a hushed tone, lifting his head up and resting his chin against your chest to gauge your mood.

"yeah," you sigh, wanting nothing more to ride along this intimate dance until your bodies can no longer keep up. "yeah, let's keep going..."

[prettygiri222]

Hi baby idk if ur requests are on but can u pls do a black reader who doesn’t have a lot of ass (baby I be reading these fanfics (not urs) and it always has black women with fat ass and big boobs and I’m like 😔 that ain’t me) and who doesn’t smoke, with like anyone but maybe wit eren or Connie, thank you sm girl and even if u don’t do this I appreciate u reading this hottie.

Girl I feel you, my shit not the fattest either but I do smoke myself so that's why it's present in some of my stories😭

Connie x Black Fem Reader SMUT

“stop playing with me mama,” Connie quickly ushered your naked bodies into his bedroom. clothes lost from the heated makeout session that took place on the leather couch in the living room. the movie playing long forgotten on the flat-screen TV. “get on the bed.”

“ah!” you let out a little gasp when he brought his large hands down and delivered a slight slap to your ass. excited for what was coming next you let out a little giggle as you crawled onto the bed. you got into position as you always did, missionary. with you on your back and pulling back your legs so they rested near your head.

Connie loved being able to see your pretty face scrunch up in pleasure. the way your eyes crossed when a particularly strong orgasm raked through your body. the access he had to play with your small tits, his huge hands dwarfing them. he loved the way you clenched extra hard when he tweaked or sucked on your nipples leaving them puffy and sore in the morning. 

your slacked jaw gives Connie free entry to your mouth to spit and suck on your tongue, mixing saliva. you're left breathless, gasping for air unable to kiss him back with moans being forced out into his mouth by his deep strokes. or when halfway you would give up on holding your leg and clutch onto him for dear life. your smaller body jostling against his sweaty one as he pounded into your pussy, basically drowning in your slick.

but today he wanted to try something different.

“can you get on your hands and knees for me please?” your boyfriend asked, staring intently at you from above. your cunt was already glistening from just making out but he was no better. his dick was standing at attention between his legs just waiting to find its way inside you.

“ok…” you meekly replied wanting to please your boyfriend. you slowly dragged yourself into the new position. the arch you presented to your boyfriend was utterly pathetic. you felt embarrassed feeling more exposed despite holding yourself open for him only a few moments ago.

“you can do better than that,” Connie said. you felt him nudge his dick against your soaking cunt. 

“I can't” you let your head fall against the mattress. god, this was so humiliating. until now Connie never mentioned anything about wanting to try doggy style but you hated it. always jumping into a position that allowed the two of you to be face to face. you loved the sight of Connie above you. his happy trail that led to a sharp v-line, the way his abs flexed after every thrust made you so wet and his caring eyes that watched your every move to see how you would react. a cute way to tell that Connie was close was the way his pink lips quivered faster the closer he got to his orgasm.

but the underlying reason you preferred missionary above all was because anytime you watched porn you noticed how in every video the girls in doggy always had the fattest asses, something you didn’t have. but it wasn’t something that made you self-conscious. you just didn’t think you would enjoy it as much cause of it.

you loved your smaller body and showing it off. like earlier today, you were wearing a tight baby tee and your favourite pair of low waisted jeans that showed off your deep back dimples. Connie could not keep his hands off you, they trailed your exposed skin before pulling at your belt loops. it was his signal that he wanted them off.

Connie on the other hand didn’t mind indulging in your love for missionary. seeing his girl happy and fucked out made him feel good but he felt like he wasn’t able to give you all he had. Connie's dick wasn't the biggest but it was really thick and girthy with a downward curve due to how heavy it hung. 

what he noticed after prodding around at your insides with his fingers and memorizing all your soft spots was that your most sensitive spot was upwards, toward your stomach. so in missionary he could only brush it and not abuse it how he wanted.

wanting to hear no more of your complaints Connie took matters into his own hands. he grabbed you by the hips and pulled you closer to the edge of the bed where he was standing. before you could turn and see what he was doing he pressed his hand in between your shoulder blades and forced you down face first into the mattress. “oh sweetie, but you can”

your newfound arch was delicious. your upper body was pressed flat against the bed creating a deep curve in your spine that led to your ass that was being held up by Connie. you turned your head to the side so you could breathe

“look at you, so talented,” he praised, marvelling at your body. it was amazing how you could take his dick like a fucking champ yet you were so tiny compared to him. his huge hands swallowed each of your asscheeks as he kneaded them while teasing the tip of his dick against your slicked hole.

“I'm going in,” your boyfriend gave you a brief warning to prepare for the stretch but you weren't ready. you're so used to his curve going down towards your spine so feeling it go up into your tummy was new.

“oh my goddd” you whined out. he bottomed out quickly, his tip kissing your cervix. you instinctively pulled away from him already feeling overwhelmed.

“where you going ma?” Connie stuck his thumbs into your back dimples to give him some leverage. he easily pulled you back onto his dick. you let out a cry as he forced himself inside. “you feeling me deep inside?”

“yeaaa,” the wet squelching sounds of your pussy coating his dick could be heard. some of your wetness dripped down your thighs. after each thrust you could feel yourself being stretched out to fit his size. “all in my tummy pa”

the view Connie had was amazing. he spread your brown cheeks so he could watch himself slide in and out of your tiny cunt, the pink of your pussy appearing when he pulled out. he watched as your creamy paste began to coat his dick. pap! pap! pap! it was like music to his ears. 

you were already soaking wet, the sheets underneath where you two connected was drenched and turning darker in colour. so for the pure obscenity of it Connie spat on the shaft of his dick. he groaned watching as your hole greedily slurped it up along with his dick. 

“you hear that mama?” pap! pap! pap! Connie gave you a second to listen to the sounds your body was making. it was straight-up pornographic. “that’s how you know I’m hitting it right.”

“uhuhuh” your boyfriend was showing you what you were missing out all this time during missionary. his cock struck the same spot each time. it felt so good that it was starting to hurt.

the force of Connie's pelvis slapping against your ass was enough to send you flying forward every thrust. and each time he pulled you back like you were a fucking ragdoll. you couldn't do anything but take everything he was giving you.

you reached out to trying to grab something, whether it was the sheets, his arm, the bedframe, you just needed something to brace yourself. Connie watched as your tiny hands struggled to grasp at his sheets.

your poor pussy was going to be bruised in the morning from how rough Connie was being. once he found your sweet spot he didn't let up, the intensity he was pounding at it was insane. he didn’t let up, not that you would allow him to either.

each time Connie pulled out your pussy just sucked him back in. pap! pap! pap! the sight and the sounds you were making had his dick twitching, aching for release. and your cunt felt like heaven, all warm and wet. he wasn’t going to last any longer in this position. “ma, I'm so close.” he groaned.

“me to me to” you moaned out against the bed. the growing feeling in your stomach was about to burst. your legs shook like a fawn taking its first steps. you sunk further into the bed arching deeper into Connie needing just a bit more. his tip reaching your cervix was the final push, “m’cumming” you whined out.

you pressed your face into the sheets when the overwhelming feeling hit you. Connie let out a low whimper feeling you clenched tightly around his cock stopping him in his tracks. unable to pull out he was forced to release inside you, painting your insides.

“knew your lil ass would love it.” he chuckled watching you twitch underneath him. he waited until your sopping cunt stopped spasming around his dick. one you both finished your orgasms he pulled out watching as his cum mixed with your fluids spilled out of your quivering hole.

hope this was to your liking <3 my requests are open but I'll do another post on that later

[andersonfilms]

# LETTING IN WHITE HEAT ✶ abby anderson!

❝ vision go black, blood, letting in white heat.❞ ft. brakence

★⠀warning y disclaimers — eighteen+, f!reader, wlw sex, poc!friendly, labeling this as dubcon bc abby is mean but she’s sweet after, mean!abby, top!abby, bottom!reader, sub!ellie, loser coded!ellie, voyerisum, kinda mean rough sex, jealous!abby, slight nipple play, strap use r!recieving, abby has one filthy mouth, mommy kink, aftercare, abby is kinda really mean

her jealousy is soft at first, small ticks easily missed if you weren’t looking. the way her blue eyes would become cold like the atlantic, void of any warmth anytime another girl hugged you for a little too long, lingering touch your smooth arms, or the one time at a frat part this ellie chick your hair wrapped around a slender finger. she wouldn’t really react, besides pulling you closer to her, resting her chin on your shoulder, abby’s long fingers intertwined with yours. she knew you were gorgeous, anyone with eyes could see it, people were going to hit on you and it maybe it was annoying at times when abby just wanted you to herself, but she ignored them and just focused on you. but tonight? god, she couldn’t control it. she was failed miserably to keep her cool. it was happening right in front of her, and you weren’t dismissing ellie’s advances like you normally would. no. not at all. you were encouraging her by batting your long, luscious eyelashes at her emerald eyes. leaning away from abby and into her, letting your fingertips grazing the tattoo on her forearm as you giggle, fucking giggling, at a lame joke ellie was telling you. abby would deck her if you wouldn’t get upset about it. you’d forgive her, eventually, but abby knew some groveling would have to happen on her end. no, she wouldn’t have it this way. still, the situation nagged her in way she despised. apparently abby wasn’t giving you enough attention you had to seek it elsewhere and god, abby was going to make you regret it. baby let’s go somewhere more quiet, yeah? your little friend can even come, quietly she whispered in your ear.

it’s how you ended up in this position, getting fucked within an inch of you life, on all fours and your delicate fingers gripping the railing of the frame at the edge, headboard crashing against the wall the abby’s thrusts. lamely, ellie was fully clothed sitting in a velvet green chair placed next to the mirror, not like she could move. abby made sure of it. her brown leather belt bound ellie’s wrist so they laid flat in her lap, lust building up in her eyes as she took in the scene before her. abby’s pierced nipples on display, burly arms flexing as they gripped onto your ass, slapping every few thrusts, letting her meaty hands smooth over the sensitive area. all ellie wanted was to be in the mix, but abby would not let her. every grunt from abby’s lips made ellie’s dripping pussy clench. it wasn’t fucking fair, her keeping you like this, all to herself. the recoil of your ass and abby’s moans mixed together was enough to make ellie cum just from rubbing her thighs against each other, but the blonde’s filthy mouth only made matters worse, pushing her to the edge quicker than she would have liked. really, even expected.

“what you think she could fuck better than me, baby? is that why you were flirting with her? huh? what? too drunk on my cock you can’t fucking talk?” abby laughed before picking up her pace, a light mumble of mommy slipped past your whimpering lips, but it was loud enough for them both to hear. “that’s right, baby. mommy always has to punish you when you’re being a spoiled brat. what? you think she can fuck you like this? she’s half my size. couldn’t even pick you up even if she tried.”

ellie felt humiliated but she couldn’t stop herself from the pressure building up in the pit of her stomach. “c’mon ellie, i know you’re close. show me what a fucking loser you are and come for me. right now, baby. yeah, just like that. ruin those pretty boxers for me.” it doesn’t take anything else ellie to squirm in the chair, spurts of white, hot cum flooding her boxers, pretty eyes rolling into the back of her head as she slumped in the chair.

abby could fully focus on you now, all the attention she could give fully on you.she slipped her the strap out of your swollen, puffy pussy and made you ride her. intentionally, she wanted to punish ellie. she wanted her to see the pussy she would never have, gush over abby’s cock. your beefy girlfriend watched as you bounced on her cock, the swell of your tits bouncing rapidly as you fully sat on the girth. abby could feel the base nudge against her clit each time, her breaths becoming more erratic, watching her stupidly pretty girl chanting out mommy mommy mommy as her hips jerked sinfully. abby decided to help you, even if you didn’t deserve it.

she met you halfway, bucking her hips, meeting you with her strong thrusts as she bent her head down to suck on the perky bud. “mommy, fuck, please can i come?” but it seemed abby still had a bit of cruelness left in her. she released your nipple with a soft pop! she shoved her middle finger and ring finger into your mouth, before instructing you “suck.” abby chose to ignore you, but you obeyed. continuing to ride her cock as she made you practically gag on her long digits. when she felt like you had enough, she circled them on your clit. “you tell me, baby? do you deserve to cum?”

abby smirked as your eyebrows furrowed, trying to concentrate enough so you wouldn’t come without her permission. she’d only punish it for you later when the two of you were back at home. “i think….” abby slapped your ass with her free hand, letting her blunt fingernails digging into the delicate flesh. “you’ve been a bad girl tonight. haven’t you? what have i told you before? c’mon, let me hear it.”

“mommy only lets good girls cum.” between every word, abby delivers cruel thrusts to your cunt, making your pussy clench around her cock.

then abby was whispering in your ear, “but since we have an audience, i’ll just punish you at home, yeah?” she pauses, before she applies more pressure on your clit. “now, ride my cock like you mean it, baby.”

once your pace quicken, abby could feel the pressure build up, could feel her clit pulsating. she was close, but she needed you to cum first. need more than the air she breathed. god, she knew you were close too. you were slamming on her cock, chasing the high you could only get from abby and she knew exactly what you were craving. she removed her grip on your ass guiding you and wrapped it around your throat, applying just the amount of pressure you craved.

“yeah, is this what you needed? just needed mommy to choke you? i know, babygirl. are you going to cum for me? yeah, you are aren’t you? cum all over my cock. fuuuckkkkk, yes. yes. good girl, such a good girl for me.” you practically screamed out her name as you squirt everywhere, abby finds her release with you. abby’s thighs, yours, the sheets beneath you drenched in your sweet slick. and all ellie could do was watch as you collapse into abby’s body. your entire body shivering as you seeked comfort in your lovers’ arms. she watched as abby soothingly rubbed your back from the tip of you spine to your lower back. whispering sweet nothings in your ear, but ellie couldn’t hear them, intentional by the blonde for her not to. abby nearly crumbled as she watched abby take care of you, cleaning you up and assisting you with putting on your clothes. you sat on the edge of the bed, completely in a daze, waiting for abby.

once abby was dressed, she walked over to ellie, towering over her, sitting or standing didn’t really matter. with a mean grip, abby held ellie’s chin, applying enough pressure to get her almost bruise. “next time you flirt with my girl, it’ll be you getting fucked an inch within your life and unlike my beautiful baby, i’ll leave you alone like the dirty slut you are, unable to fucking walk, talk, move. got it?” abby left with you in her arms, but to ellie it sounded more like music to her ears.

pathetically, ellie watched as the couple walk out of the room, abby whispering in your ear as abby kissed your temple, shutting the door behind them. and then it dawned on her. she was still fucking tied up. fucking anderson.

an: yeah.......so this is a thing. hope you enjoyed it as much as i loved writing it! god do i need a blonde girl to fucking rail me

[jayke0]

Bondage and BJs

Pairing: Jake Lockley x g/n reader

Summary: You grant Jake with a treat while he's tied to a chair.

Rating: nsfw, smut

Warnings/Content: Oral (m receiving), bondage/ropes, Dom!Reader, Sub!Jake, degrading, use of “whore”, edging, begging, orgasm denial, mention of Steven, lmk if there's anything else I should add :).

Word count: 1,410

A/n: This was inspired by this lovely art by @/halcyon1796 on X!

Credit: @automnepoet for proofreading and editing ily.

………......................…………………………………….

“Colour?”

Jake blinks at you a few times, the words not registering for a few seconds.

“Green. Green, cariño…”

The poor man is practically bursting out of his jeans. Tight ropes bind him to the chair, his biceps bulging between the lines each time he clenches his fists. A light sheen covers his warm gold skin and runs the length of his chest all the way to his waistband, where his stomach is twitching with the lack of stimulation. Despite the compromising position, and the obligatory stain on his pants, a dark grin is stretched wide across his face, urging you to continue your game.

“Good,” you flash him a smile and pat his thigh as you shuffle closer to him on your knees. “Good boy.”

You're sure you see his ears prick up like a damn dog at the praise, the idea of it making you chuckle while you sit comfortably between his thighs and fiddle with his belt, looking up at him brazenly.

His smirk falters a little as you tease him, slowly unbuckling his belt and dragging the leather from the metal clasp with remarkable patience.

Jake wouldn't have it any other way. He loves it when you tease him, make him wait for you, it just makes him unbelievably harder. Sweat beads on his forehead and curls his hair, his thoughts completely enrapt with you.

Finally, you work open his pants, refraining from literally licking your lips as you gaze at his twitching length in the confines of his boxers. “Look at you, baby, twitching so much for me.” You tease with a smile as you run your finger along the length of his cock, getting a groan and a jump in response. “Lemme help you out a little.”

The adam's apple in his throat bobs as he swallows hard, eyes fixated on your hands and the way your thumbs hook under his boxer’s waistband to let his cock spring out. Cold air hits him and makes him gasp, biceps flexing again as he sucks his lip between his teeth to chew on.

“You're usually more talkative than this, Mr Jake Lockley; is someone lost for words?”

The man grumbles and looks at you with pleading eyes, ones that you're still yet to gain the strength to say no to, so you do as he silently pleads and wrap your fingers around his thick length.

The action makes an exasperated sigh escape from your boyfriend's lips, his nostrils flaring a little while your fingers squeeze him gently.

“Mi vida…” he mumbles softly, feeling each of your digits squeezing him. A bead of pre-cum spills from his tip in time for you to catch it on your tongue, pressing your tongue flat against the underside of his cock. The muscles in his stomach strain, making his length twitch as you tap it against your tongue and glare up at him through your lashes.

Pulling away, you let a string of saliva pour over his ruddy tip and stroke it over his length, relishing in the way he's already huffing and squirming under the bare minimum of your touch.

”Finally,” he breathes as you wrap your lips around the head of his cock, enveloping the tip and appreciating the salty taste. You sit up, twisting your head slightly to the side before taking almost all of him in one go; needless to say, Jake's reaction is pure gold.

His head falls back with a loud wail, back arching off of the chair as his thighs try to squeeze together. To his displeasure, you're already one step ahead of him, hands placed firmly on his thick thighs to keep them parted as you pull off again.

“Jake, you're gonna be a good boy for me now, aren't you?”

He nods frantically, a whine rumbling in his throat.

“Promise?”

“Yes! Yes I promise. Please darlin’... I need ya, I need that mouth.”

The way he ruts his hips up should aggravate you, but it only makes you want him more.

Taking him about half way this time, you hum around his cock, feeling his thigh tense under your tight grasp while your other hand occupies itself with wrapping around the rest of his length; and he keeps his legs open, as per your command.

The twisting motion you start has proven to be greatly successful with your boyfriend in the past, and he never seems to get bored of it. You turn your head as you bob up and down on his length, your hand twisting in the opposite direction to create a delicious friction for the man. You're quick to stop his rutting with a glare through your eyelashes, not even having to pull off to make him whimper and stop his movements in his tracks.

He distracts himself by leaning his head back once more, and you watch all the muscles strain in his neck delightfully; it's such a wonderful sight seeing him like this.

“Damn cariño… shit. Love the way ya Suck my cock, ya always know what I like–.” He moans out, his hands now pawing at the ropes that are keeping him in place. “Wish I could just fuck that pretty mouth… make ya drool all over me...” His words are assertive, but his tone is far from it. You simply grin around him and start moving faster, taking him a little deeper each time.

His body is shaking at this point, already sensitive from the edging you'd put him through before even having taken his pants off. “Ah fuck!– Mi vida, I ain't gonna last– I gotta cum...”

You pull off. “What do you need to say?”

The man grumbles and thrusts his hips up.

“Watch it,” you dig your nails into his thigh, making him squirm and whimper quietly. “Want me to edge you again, baby? ‘Cause I will. I'll edge you for as long as it takes for you to stop being a desperate and disobedient whore.”

He buries his face in his shoulder for that one, looking away from you ashamed and flushed. Jake doesn't react the same to degrading as Steven does, his responses are usually more subtle, more embarrassed. Steven, on the other hand, will happily welcome degradation with a loud moan followed by a desperate whine; and Marc… well, you haven't gotten that far yet.

“I'm sorry, mi amor. Please let me cum, I've been so good for ya, waited so long.” Jake’s bottom lip sticks out just a little, something he'd picked up from Steven. “Please, cariño. I need ya…”

Once you're satisfied with his apology, you wrap your lips around him again as before and sink all the way down, enveloping him fully. You pull off just enough before starting a fast pace, feeling his cock twitch in your mouth and hearing his beautiful moans.

You're able to look up at him just enough to see him watching you, focusing on how your lips stretch and drool all over his cock. his eyes meet yours, and suddenly he's arching his back and twitching fiercely, warmth filling your mouth while his orgasm runs through his body like hot lava.

You feel his muscles almost instantly relax and his breathing slow, his cock already going soft in your mouth as you swallow what he'd spilled. “Good boy,” you smile up at him widely, “my handsome boyfriend.” Your words are genuine as you rest your head on his thigh, pressing soft kisses.

“Mhm… mi vida..” Jake is sleepy, and you can easily tell that by the big dopey grin on his face, the one he usually has when he's had a long day or you've pleased him.

Standing up, you place a kiss on his lips and forehead before moving behind him to untie his sore wrists, a soft inhale coming from him as he rubs his biceps.

“Sorry baby, but I had to really tie you down. You're like a fucking rhino sometimes,” you both chuckle softly at your observation before you lean over him to look at him. “You wanna go to sleep, huh?”

A simple nod from him tells you all you need to know.

...........................................................................

Tags 🖤: @boredzillenial @cowboymarcs @chichimisaki @faretheeoscar @fanofstuffidk @red-hydra @summonthesoups @ominoose @mynamesstevenwithav @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @midgardian-witch @minigirl87 @mooksmouse @justafandomgvrl @boredzillenial @eyelessfaces @silvernight-m @winniethewife @reallyrallyauthor @femmeanonymelives

[shibaraki]

IN THESE SMALL HOURS ┊ GOJO SATORU

tags: GN reader, newly established relationship, gojo carries the reader, alcohol consumption (you’re both tipsy), fluffy fluff, sharing a bed, using pet names for the first time (reader receiving)

wc: 1K

There's a pleasant buzz under your skin. Insides softened by liquor, you are reminiscent of a puppet on strings as you stumble into your apartment.

Vaguely, you can recall the soft clink of shot glasses meeting in the centre of the table. The fuzzy image of Satoru throwing back his shochu and shuddering at the clean, dry taste, before quickly shoving some fried chicken in his mouth to chase it.

Titters follow behind as you kick off your shoes and subsequently trip over them. It sharpens the senses, brings you to the present—to the firm body at your back. Satoru hooks his chin over your shoulder. The flush on his face is prominent now, even under the poor lighting, and after a long pause staring at one another you dissolve into quiet laughter with him.

“You steady, baby?” Satoru murmurs, syrupy and low. Hot are the fingers at your waist, squeezing intermittently as though to commit your shape to memory. “I think—” he hiccups, frowns inwardly at the interruption, and then shakes his head, as though shaking them off. “You know, I think that the shochu might’ve been a bad idea”.

“And whose idea was that again, I wonder?” you try to level him with an unimpressed look that is no doubt betrayed by your tone. “Should make it up to me”.

Satoru near mewls. Using the sway in his gait, he leans to gather you into his embrace. Then abruptly, and in one fell swoop, he has lifted you into his arms, as easy as scruffing a kitten with a colourful vocabulary.

“Fuck—Satoru! You dickhead, put me back down!”

Obligingly, Satoru dropped both of his arms. Your limbs wrapped around him before gravity could drag you to the floor, and you proceeded to cling to his torso like a front-facing backpack. “Wait I didn't mean—don't just drop me here!”

“S’what you told me to do,” Satoru grinned. “Then where to?”

Your mouth wobbles as heat prickles over your face. He’d be remiss not to notice the way your breath hitched as his fingers flexed around your thighs. It’s a fragile physical thing that feels unusually momentous. “Bedroom,” you tell him, aiming for authoritative and landing squarely on flustered.

“Mn, I can do that,” Satoru replied. You squinted at his face, at the tentative, coy beginnings of a grin curling into appled cheeks. “That mean I’m staying over tonight?”

Expression pinched, you duck your chin to hide how your mouth sets into a thin line, trying not to smile back. You exhale, palms sliding over the broad expanse of his shoulders, behind his throat to tangle fingers in the soft hair there. “You’re staying. Now stop trying to be cute and take me to bed”.

He staggers through the living room, a large hand laid flat and sliding along the wall to feel for the bedroom door, navigating your home with an ease that warms you. After all these years, and against the odds, he still carves out space for you in the flotsam and jetsam of his life.

You drop onto your mattress, springing in place before you settle into the cushions and begin to strip yourself of your clothes. Satoru stands at the bedside a second longer, swaying somewhat, watching you get comfortable with half lidded fondness heavy enough to feel like touch. There’s a familiar tingle. Somewhere in your belly, at the base of your spine. Giddiness.

He tracks the movement of your arms as they stretch out to him, and your thighs fall open, making space for him to fit. “Get over here,” you say.

Satoru doesn’t need to be told twice. The corded muscle in his arms bulges when he reaches back to pull his shirt over his head, ivory hair fluffing in every direction. Your attention drifts lower to the fingers working open his belt buckle to reveal porcelain skin, a trail of downy hair.

His belt loosens, hanging down. Metal clinking in the quiet. The zip almost breaks as he tugs open the top button and shoves his jeans down over his thighs, fabric straining. Satoru kicks them aside, but not before making a show of hopping on one leg, exaggerating his struggle to amuse you.

The mattress yields under his weight. As do you, when he drapes his body over your own, kissing from the corner of your mouth to your jaw until his head is nestled into the crook of your neck, mouthing at your pulse. He’s making satisfied little noises that sound suspiciously like sweetheart and angel and love. He’s been doing it throughout the evening, letting the odd endearment slip and feigning ignorance, carefully discerning your reactions; rolling words around his teeth just to taste them.

Your legs bracket his narrow hips, arching off the bed an inch so he can wrap his arms around you. Only then does he truly give. Contentment spreads throughout your body like the golden hour.

Knuckles brush gently over Satoru’s pink cheek. You whisper his name and he tilts to look at you. Though the curtains are closed moonlight filters through the cracks and you see it reflected dimly in his eyes, displaying tenderness you scarcely know what to do with. It’s all encompassing and yet not—as if you’re full and starving at the same time.

“What’s with all the sudden pet names?”

A beat passes. You expected a muffled whine, or an embarrassed hum. There’s neither. “Decided I like them,” Satoru slurred. He turned to rest his cheek on your shoulder and the chub creates a soft crease beneath his eye. A lazy smile hung on his lips. “Want to be sweet to you. Problem?”

Slowly you feel a welling up of affection. Your heart is running away from you. “Don’t have to y’know. You’re already the biggest cheeseball I’ve ever met”.

“Don’t want to be cheese, want to be sweet,” Satoru reiterated with a huff, because their distinction is very important. The warm puff of breath brushed along your collar. You can hear the grin in his voice. “I’ll let you act like you hate it if you let me keep using them”.

Seized by a passing urge, you bend your neck to nip at his mouth, and kiss him twice over. You can taste the beer lingering on his tongue. “Deal,” you murmur.

[random-thot-generator]

A Nice Guy

KYLE "GAZ" GARRICK x FEM READER

Summary: You've teased and taunted your neighbor Kyle for months on end, curious to see just how much a nice guy like him can take before he snaps. (And then, ya know, smut happens.)

Warnings/Tags: Profanity, Explicit language, Explicit sexual content, P in V sex, Rough sex, Good boy Gaz has left the building, No use of Y/N

(Notes: This is just a smut purge, folks. Don't think about it too hard, just go with it. Hope you enjoy!)

Word Count: 2.2K

-

Ask anyone in your building about the soldier who lives across the hall from you, and they all will basically tell you the same thing.

"He's a good lad."

"Solid bloke."

"Couldn't ask for a better mate."

"Such a nice young man."

So, general consensus: Kyle Garrick is a nice guy.

Maybe a little too nice, you think.

You see how he looks at you, where his eyes linger. He may be a nice guy, but he's still a red-blooded man under that faded ball cap and warm, friendly smile. He just needs a little... push.

So, push him you do.

You make it hard for him to ignore you. It starts with lingering touches and longing looks, but soon graduates to less subtle overtures.

You stop him for a chat sans bra in the chilly hallway, an innocent smile on your lips when your nipples pebble under your tight tank top and his attentive gaze. He licks his lips and tries his best to maintain eye contact, but he fails again and again before you finally let him off the hook.

You see how his warm brown eyes darken and his breath hitches when you 'accidentally' brush your hand against the front of his trousers at the post boxes. You murmur a shy apology and bite your lip, but he sees the way your eyes slide down his torso to catch on the bulge below his belt. You raise your brows and smirk before sauntering away.

But Kyle Garrick is a nice guy.

He tries to avert his eyes when you bend over in your short skirt to pick up the keys you dropped, because, oops! you're such a little klutz. If he happened to catch a glimpse of red lace disappearing between your thighs, it's never mentioned.

He grins and bears it when you press up against him in the crowded lift, apologizing even as you back your ass up against his crotch. You're rewarded for your efforts when you feel his cock twitch in interest, and he leaves the lift with his workout bag clutched over his jock.

His smile is strained but indulgent when you stroke his thigh under the table at the pub. Your friends sit around you, laughing and drinking, oblivious to the torture you're inflicting on the poor man beside you. You giggle then hiccup, announcing that your last glass of wine went straight to your head. It's obvious that you're a little too drunk to be held responsible for your actions. Yet he never offers to remove your hand or stop you, so you knead his flexing thigh for the rest of the night.

Poor Kyle.

It becomes a game to you, winding him up. You revel in his pent-up frustration; love how he now glares at you with that feral light in his eyes when you peer up at him with innocent guile. You know he wants you, and you want him, too, but watching him struggle to maintain his control is just so addictive. It's a high like nothing you've ever experienced before, and you know you won't be satisfied until you make him break.

You just never expected him to break the way he did.

A fancy boxed mattress gets delivered to your flat, the delivery guy insisting that it's yours; the invoice backs him up. There's a card attached to it, a short note scribbled inside:

'Congratulations! You won!'

Did you win some random drawing? Sign up for a chance to win online? Then again, you're always buying raffle tickets from the kids in the building for some fundraiser or another.

It must be serendipity. You had been complaining about your old mattress hurting your back just the other day in the lift, and then, boom! A new mattress appears. You shrug it off and smile, pleased with your stroke of good luck. No sense looking a gift horse in the mouth, you decide, and begin to drag the box into your flat.

"Need help with that, pet?"

It's Kyle, leaning in his open doorway, arms crossed over his chest, benign smile on his face. He's dressed for a lazy day at home- a tee, sweats and trainers, so, it's no bother helping you out. He steps forward and lifts the box to his shoulder, muscles bulging under the tight fit of his tee.

"Lead the way," he says, herding you back into your flat, making you jump when he kicks the door shut behind him.

He helps you remove your old mattress and unboxes the new one, grinning as you laugh in delight at the way it expands to full size before your eyes. The two of you wrestle it into position on your bed, then he helps you with the sheets.

You're bent over smoothing out the wrinkles when you feel him step behind you. You glance over your shoulder and the air catches in your throat. His legs brush the backs of your thighs as he steps closer, a dark, hungry expression on his face.

"Kyle—"

That's all you get out before his big hand lands on the small of your back and he slides it forward to press your chest into your new mattress. "Sorry, pet. Can't help myself," he apologizes, but he doesn't sound like he's sorry, and he doesn't remove his hand.

But Kyle Garrick is a nice guy. He would never take advantage of your vulnerable position. He would never crowd you forward, never grab you by the waist as he buckles your knees with his. He's not the type of guy who would manhandle you onto all fours on your brand-new mattress, would never dare to yank your leggings and panties down your thighs before burying two fingers knuckles-deep in your pussy.

Your grunt of surprise says it all.

But this is Kyle Garrick, the nicest guy you'd ever want to meet.

Yet the man who is now kneeling behind you with his fist clenched in your hair doesn't resemble that nice guy at all. This man is anything but nice, and he is intent on ruining you.

You whimper out a pitiful cry as his hand connects with your ass, hot and stinging. "Ah!" you squeak, embarrassed when you feel a trickle of arousal slip down your thigh.

His laugh is low and dark as he crooks his fingers inside you and smacks your ass again. You clench down hard on his stroking digits, gasping a cry when he plants his thumb on your clit and rubs hard, fast circles into it. Toes curling, your body jolts away from the intense stimulation, but he just barks a mean laugh and slaps your ass again before hauling you back.

You try lifting your head, but he tightens his fist in your hair and pushes your face back into the mattress with an amused, breathless grunt. "Oh, no ya don't. You wanted to tease me, huh?" he pants out as he hauls his cock and balls over the top of his sweatpants. He smacks the head against a reddened cheek. "Make me lose control?" he husks out as he hikes your hips higher. He grunts out a laugh. "Congratulations, pet. You won."

The words on the card dance before your eyes as his first thrust shoves your head into the pillows, sheets rucking up at your knees. Your shocked little cry makes him huff out another laugh. "Do ya like your prize, sweetheart?" he bites out, holding his full length inside you. He grips your hips hard enough to bruise as his chin drops to his chest. His breath hisses through his teeth before he mutters, "Fuck. Knew you'd feel good, but shit..."

He grunts out a low growl as he draws back his hips, a slow drag that acquaints you with every ridge and vein of his cock. You're clenching desperately, walls spasming as they try to cling onto his retreating length. He groans as he withdraws, not stopping until the ridge of his swollen tip catches on the rim of your entrance. He forces himself to look away from his glistening, wet length, yanking your head back to meet your eyes.

"Should I be the bigger person here, pet? Should I give ya what ya want, or should I tease ya with it?" he asks with a wicked grin as he circles his hips.

His hips then flex and his cock inches in just enough to give you hope before he pulls out again, and the walls of your cunt clench like a fist, squeezing the breath from your lungs.

You squirm and whine, trying to push your hips back, but he holds you firm. "Ah-ah! C'mon, I want to hear ya say it, first. Tell me what ya want." When you only whimper in frustration and jerk your hips, his hand cracks over your ass again as he gives your head a rough little shake. "Say it," he snarls.

Your mind is reeling. It's too much and not enough, and it's all happening so fast, but you got what you wanted. You made him break, you just never considered that he could break you, too, but now it's happening, what you've always wanted to happen, and it's...

... Just. Too. Much.

"You!" you cry out, plaintive and high. "I want— you!"

He sighs in satisfaction, his breath gusting over your back. "There she is. There's my girl," he moans, then spears your body on his length again, relishing the way your eyes go wide, how your lips form a perfect little 'O'.

He grips your hair and gives your head a lazy shake. "Now, say you're sorry," he croons.

You heave a sob, squeezing your eyes shut, shaking your head no, even as you begin to chant out a breathy, "'M sorry, 'm sorry. Sorrysorrysorrysorry..."

A dark chuckle makes you shiver as he folds himself over your back, his plush lips pressing a tender kiss behind your ear. "I forgive you," he whispers, letting go of your hair to smooth it away from your face. "Now, show me how sorry you are."

Hooking his hand over your shoulder, he takes hold of your hip and proceeds to pound you into the mattress. You keen his name out as your back arches, and his next thrust collapses your knees. "That's it, love," he puffs out, riding you into the bed. "Cry for me... Tell me how sorry ya are... for making me wait so long."

You would if you could, because you are sorry. You are so-so sorry for making him wait and denying yourself, but words escape you. With his big hand splayed between your shoulder blades, his hips rocking between your trembling thighs, the ability to speak abandons you, leaving you to babble incoherent sounds into the sheets.

His grunts and hissed curses are your benediction. His bruising thrusts battering your tender folds, the slap of his balls against your swollen clit are your atonement. The sweat that drips from his chin to patter across your back is his blessing.

This is how he forgives you.

Your pelvic muscles tighten, walls bearing down. He's worked you up so fast, your building orgasm takes you by surprise. It barrels past you at a speed that you can't keep up with and slams you into a wall, your release gushing as your core contracts. You clench so hard it makes you cry out, a pleasure that dances on a razor's edge of pain.

"Bloody— hell!" Kyle whines, bowing over you as you grip him like a vice. "I can't... You're too... Fuck!" he snarls out.

His hand grips your shoulder as his hips begin to piston, rutting into your tight, spasming walls as he comes unhinged. A string of curses and praise pour over your head as his weight presses you into the bed. He's dragging your orgasm out to a point of overstimulation, but there's no escape. You lie beneath him and pay your penance, wailing when he wrenches another orgasm from your body on the heels of the last one.

Your spine curves when you cum, cunt pulsing, working to pull him deeper, and it's all over for him. He plows forward with one last feral growl, and then his body seizes up behind you, cock buried to the hilt between your shaking legs. His hips jerk with his release, his breath choking off in his throat.

And you're just... gone.

You can see, you can hear, you can feel, but your brain isn't really processing any of it. Awareness is slow to return, but eventually you become aware of the heavy weight covering your prone form, can feel the heaving breaths warm and damp against your neck, notice how hot your skin feels compared to the cold, sticky puddle on the sheets between your spread thighs.

You moan and twitch, unable to move, stirring the man above you into action. The heavy weight is lifted away, and you feel buoyed up on the new mattress, your body now floating with your blissed-out brain.

Kyle flops over on his back beside you, hooded eyes peering up at the ceiling as he tucks an arm behind his head. He waits until his breath has evened out before he turns his head to look at you. There is hesitance in his expression and caution in his gaze, but hope is there, too, flickering behind his eyes.

You blink, sighing out a breath as your lips curve into a slow smile.

"Thanks for the new mattress, Kyle."

He smirks, brown eyes going soft and warm as he hooks his arm around your waist to drag you closer. Hand cupping your ass, he claims a kiss before he whispers against your lips, "You're welcome."

-

[marlynnofmany]

Fingernails and Fisticuffs

The box of miscellaneous engine parts slipped out of my grasp, catching a fingernail on the way down. I said, “Ow!” but was overshadowed by the loud clatter of washers and junk. Heads of several species turned from across the cargo bay. I reassured all my alien coworkers that nothing was broken.

“Are you okay?” Paint asked. She was the only one close enough to notice how I was shaking my hand, and worry was clear on her lizardy face.

“Yeah, just broke a nail,” I told her. “I didn’t think it was long enough for that. Ow.”

Paint looked at the box with alarm. “There are nails sticking out?”

“No, a fingernail,” I said, holding out a hand. “One of these. The little not-claws that humans have.”

“Not-claws?” Paint repeated. She stepped closer to get a proper look. Her expression was somewhere between distaste and pity. “I never really studied them before. They’re hollow! Just the top half! Why?”

I shrugged. “I guess we don’t really need proper claws anymore. Our distant ancestors had them.”

Paint looked scandalized. “How could you not need claws?”

Before I could come up with a good answer, Trrili walked by with a heavy pipe held in her pincher arms. I’d say she was looking down her nose at us, but she didn’t really have one of those. Just bug eyes, mandibles, and lots of opinions. She said, “No wonder humans like weapons so much, if you don’t even have sharp digits.”

“We can fight without weapons too!” I protested.

“Really,” Trrili said, stepping past to deposit the pipe beside several others with a loud clank. “How? You can’t bite like her,” she said with a flick of one antenna toward Paint. “Or even grapple like him.” The other antenna pointed out Mimi, tentacle-walking over like an octopus with a plumber’s belt.

“We can grapple pretty well,” I said. “But most of our fighting is punches and kicks.” I shadowboxed briefly, with what I thought were some pretty good moves. I even did a slow-motion roundhouse kick that brought my foot level with Trrili’s head.

She blocked it with a pincher. “Any Armorlite could hit harder, and so could half the Frillians I know.”

“Maybe, but they’re probably not as agile.” I bobbled and weaved.

“On two legs,” Trrili said, sweeping one of her own forward to try and trip me. I jumped over it, but she still wasn’t impressed. “Honestly, it’s a good thing you can climb things and fit into cabinets to hide, because the softest Mesmer child could defeat you in a fight.”

“Oh yeah? Bet you can’t do this.” I opened the box I’d dropped, dug out a metal washer, and laid it flat on the floor. “Pick that up.”

Trrili regarded me silently for a moment, pincher arms flexing and antenna doing a disapproving dance.

I just grinned at her. “What? It’s easy.” I scooped it up with one thumb and the finger with the longest nail. “…If you have fingernails.”

Mimi joined us, chuckling in his gravelly voice and plucking the washer from my hand. Paint giggled a little too, though stopped when Trrili glared at her.

“That’s beside the point,” Trrili declared. “What would you do if faced down with true danger, and no weapons in reach? And that includes rocks to throw; I know how fond you are of that.”

“I’d throw Mimi at it,” I said, pointing.

“Do not,” he said.

That just made Paint laugh again. Trrili was shaking her head.

“Hey, don’t underestimate some good problem-solving,” I said. “Especially if I’ve got time to prepare! There are some great trickster legends about humans who made traps for their enemies out of the most unlikely things.”

Paint asked, “Like what?”

Mimi interrupted, “Let’s get the supplies put away first, then have story time.”

“Of course,” I said, picking up the box. Mimi had already grabbed a couple of things out of it. “Blip and Blop will want to hear this too. And Trrili, I think you’ll appreciate some of those legends. Especially the ones about a human child left home alone when dangerous adults break into the house. Some of those traps were downright vicious.”

“That remains to be seen,” Trrili said.

I winked at Paint. “And some are funny.”

Storytime after dinner was a big hit. Blip and Blop enjoyed it so much that Captain Sunlight had to make everyone promise not to do any of that.

Unless, of course, the ship was ever attacked in a very specific way. She may have been taking notes for later.

~~~

The ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book. More to come! And I am currently drafting a sequel!

[alex-wire-mesh]

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The post Flat Flex Transport Belt appeared first on Alex Wire Mesh

[gabessquishytum]

Ages ago I was thinking about married dreamling later in life, and I rambled out a few hundred words about Hob having a big butt and Dream loving it... I'm probably not going to do anything with it now but I think it deserves to be posted, and it would be amazing if it inspired further thoughts about middle aged comfy dreamling <3

Potential tw for mild body image issues. Enjoy! <33

It's not that Hob thinks that Dream is weak, alright? That's not what it's about at all.

When they met at university some 20 years ago it had been very much a “twink4twink” kind of affair. Hob had looked like a strong gust of wind might blow him over. He had to have extra holes drilled in his belts to keep his jeans from falling down. He was frequently accused of having hollow legs – and Dream was no better. No amount of pot noodles and cheap beer seemed to make a difference. They used to be able to share clothes.

Things have changed. Somewhere along the line during the two decades of their relationship, Dream filled out into a lean yet distinguished gentleman, whose flat stomach paired very nicely with his sinewy arms and strong calves. His suits fit him immaculately, and Hob wouldn't even dare to try and get into his skinny cut trousers.

Twink death, they call it. That's what Hob’s been through. He's actually not mad about it. But what the hell is he supposed to do when his beloved husband asks him to sit on his face?!

Dream has such a pretty face, too. That lovely sharp little nose. Those cheekbones. Hob would very much like to sit on it, actually. Then he'll catch a glimpse of his own arse in the mirror. What if he breaks his darling Dream’s pretty face? So he makes excuses and distracts Dream with other activities. He gets Dream to sit on his face. But Dream does keep asking, and Hob does hate to deprive him of something that he obviously wants.

“Dearest darling. It's not that I don't want to.” He admits, the next time Dream brings it up with a hopeful lilt in his voice. “Don't you think I'm just a bit too… big? I mean, my bottom eclipses the dining room chairs. I'm afraid you have to face facts. It might just be a bit ambitious.”

Dream looks out from under his eyelashes. And he licks his lips slowly. “Does it not occur to you that the size may in fact be part of the appeal, in this case?”

Hob blushes. He can vividly feel his cheeks heating up. “You want me to potentially break your nose with my massive arse?”

“I want you to sit on my face so that I can pleasure you with my tongue, and feel your thighs flexing around my head, and feel the softness of your body rippling under my hands. I will beg for it if you wish, my beloved husband. I will beg to feel your weight on me.”

Hob doesn't make him beg. After such a moving speech, Dream deserves to get exactly what he wants. Possibly for the rest of their entire marriage, but certainly for the next half an hour at least. If he wants a massive arse, then Hob will gladly provide it.

Next time he catches himself in the mirror, he'll smile. Maybe have a little wiggle. And think about Dream’s tongue, with all the wicked things it can do…

[l4long-winded]

i just read your blurb making carmy listen to fantasize wowwwww it was amazing! can u make him listen to another sexy song? and what it ensues? 🥵

thank you so much for reading! maybe i can make this a series? showing carmen songs since i know he never sits down and listens to music on his own in his constant work mode (and ensuring i expand my own music taste at the same time since i'm also guilty of that).

first off, thank you to @carmybrainworms for the song suggestion. already added it to a ✨️ special ✨️ playlist of mine.

here's what happens when you make carmen listen to haunted by beyoncé. for full immersion, put it on repeat as you read, but it's not required.

you insist he listens to it with his airpods on. he's slightly annoyed by it. why wouldn't you play it on the speaker in the living room instead of pausing him from his work in the kitchen, forcing him to take a seat on the couch as you stand in front of him, he has little to no clue, but he cares for you, and he trusts you. he complies, watching you press play.

the beat overwhelms him at first. the voice in his head, the distorted storytelling of beyoncé, drowns out his doubts, forcing him to remain present in this moment, in tune with every one of his senses.

the nine to five, just to stay alive

the nine to five, just to stay alive

the nine to five, just to stay alive

it matches his usual thoughts. repeating contemplations he never says aloud, but he's familiar with the waves of anxiety. he sits in it, gulping as you step closer to him, as the song picks up in beat once more, and your lips and tongue meet his neck. carmen's mouth parts, his pants feeling tighter when you linger on his quickening pulse point, groaning when your hands remove his exploring ones from your hips, planting them down into the cushions.

reap what you sow

perfection is so, mm

your hands splay underneath his shirt, sliding over his stomach, grasping his belt.

it's what you do, it's what you see

i know if i'm haunting you, you must be haunting me

he lifts his hips, his breath growing heavier, praying silently you'll unzip him quickly. his cockhead bites into his zipper, so a noise of relief resounds throughout your living room once you drag it down.

it's where we'll go, it's where we'll be

i know if i'm onto you, i'm onto you

carmen's arms flex whenever you kiss your way down him, peck his happy trail, and lick over the bulge in his boxers. the veins protrude in his muscles, knuckles pigmented ivory, his sensitivity higher than he'd like to admit. you take your time as the piano keys echo in his head, freeing him from the opening. and fucking christ, is the beat picking up again?

my haunted lungs, ghost in the sheets

i know if i'm haunting you, you must be haunting me

your tongue lavs over his weeping tip, his feet stepping apart to give you more access. you hold him in your hands, grip the muscle there as the flat of you fixes over his cock.

my wicked tongue, where will it be?

i know if i'm onto you, i'm onto you

onto you, i'm onto you

carmen closes his eyes, the rythymic song adding onto his euphoria. the lyrics are driving him insane, the beat lighting up his heart in his ribcage.

you want me?

i walk down the hallway

you like it?

the bedroom's the wrong way

"fuck, fuck, what are you doin' t'me?" he mutters, his breath shorter and shorter, bucking with caution. he really doesn't want you to stop.

slap me, i'm pinned to the doorway

kiss, bite, foreplay

carmen moans whenever your lips wrap around him. he's shaking, seeing stars behind his eyelids. he blinks hazy eyes open, his usual icy cerulean transitioning into a royal blue at the sight of your saliva on his length as you ascend, lips gliding up him, kissing his tip. he's closer and closer as the song continues, as it repeats, and he finishes embarrasingly fast to the sound of cheering in his ears.

safe to say he loves this song, and beyoncé, after that. he's going to play this the next time he's got his head mushed between your thighs.

[vampgal202]

Yes, Sir. (Professor James Franco x Female Student.)

summary: Temptations are hot, and so is Mr. F. Will U/n break under pressure even though he's her teacher? Will Mr. F feed into her fantasies, or is he really only feeding into his own?

Warnings: Smut, Teacher x student

His rough, calloused hands trailed up my thighs. My ass was pressed flat against the wall. His fingers played with the hem of my underwear under skirt. My breathing was ridged, it was caught in the back of my throat. He groped my ass hard making my back arch off the wall...

"Y/n?"

"Y/N?!"

My head shot up from my desk, the loud sound of the bell ringing fills my ears. Fuck, I fell asleep. "You slept through the whole class" I turn my head to see Mr. F leaning against his desk. God he's sexy. He was wearing a white button up with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His arms were popping out of shirt as they were crossed over his chest. "I'm sorry Mr. F..." I didn't really know what to say to him. I had a late night last night and I spent the whole class dreaming about having sex with him. He just looked at me, I couldn't tell what he was thinking about but I knew that in this very moment I wanted him more than ever before. "Late night last night? Were you partying? Drinking? I know how you collage girls are." He says to me, that big smile on his face. By this time everyone in the classroom has cleared out, leaving only me and him. "Maybe..." I say back, keeping eye contact with him. He walks towards me, only couple inches away from my body. I stare up at him between my lashes, wetting my lips, hoping that he will do something. He drags his tongue around his mouth and pokes at the inside of his cheek.

Fuck it. I grab the front of his shirt and pull him down towards me, smashing his lips against mine. He freezes for a second until his hands roughly make his way through my hair. The kiss is rough, passionate, and sloppy. He grabs the back of my legs and hoists me up onto the desk behind me. I start to unbutton his shirt and he pulls away. "We cant. This is wrong." he says to me, running his hands though his hair. I can see he is so hard, he's practically busting through his pants. "C'mon it's okay, I won't tell anyone." He looks at me for a second until his lips are back on mine. He lifts my shirt off my body, reveling my bra and naked torso. His hands cup my breasts through my bra, making me pant harder into the kiss. My hands fiddle with the last button on his shirt until it's open. I pier up at his hard abs, pulling him closer between my legs. His bulge presses between my legs making me moan and breaking our kiss. His hand comes down in between us and starts rubbing my clit on top of my pants. Strings of curse words and moans fill the room. "Please just fuck me." I say to him.

He wastes no time pulling my pants off my body. He unbuckles his belt with one hand, in one swift motion. Reveling his hard cock. I lean back on my hands and spread my legs, letting him do all the work. He pulls my underwear to the side and slams himself in me, making my throw my head back. He starts fucking me, hard and rough making me cling onto his shoulders. "Fuck." he says under his breath followed by groans of pleasure. He brings his hand down again and starts playing with my clit with his thumb. This throws me over board causing me to let out a loud moan. "shh baby, we can't let anyone know our little secret." He whispers to me, his warm breath fanning over my ear. With every thrust I see his v line flex which makes me even more turned on by the second. His thrusts start to become slower, and sloppier, as he comes closer to finishing. He starts rubbing my clit faster than ever before and we both come undone at the same time. I watch as he throws his head back, his Adams apple vibrating from his moans. He pulls out of me and grabs paper towel to clean up. "Our little secret?" he says to me with a smile. "Yes Sir."

[rosiesmuts]

Jingle All the Way

BLACKPINK Lisa 1,600 words

A/N: Blame @friskyriskywhisky​ for this by sending me this as an ask. Quickie, no edits

"Hi Oppa! Long time no fuck!" 

A pleased smile breaks across your face. Lisa emerges from her bedroom, and granted your Christmas wish--watching her dance in that outfit at the concert drove you wild. 

"I've missed that ass Lisa. It's been way too long."

"Oh? You mean this little ol thing?"

Lisa turns around, twerking her way over to the couch, the metal plates jingling all the way. She's right in front of you, untying a couple pieces of string. Her hips continue to twerk until each piece of clothing falls off her body, the sound of crashing metal hits the floor.

Her hips are unstoppable, her back turned to you, sliding the underside of your cock in between her cheeks.

"This is fun and all, but it's been WAY too long Oppa. We both know why we're here."

She reaches behind, lathering your cock in slick lubrication while two of your fingers do the same to her puckering hole. The prep work now completed, her right hand holding the base of your shaft while your two hands are spreading apart her cheeks. Her moans of pleasure and pain ring into your ears the moment your head breaches her tight hole. 

"Oppa, did you somehow get bigger?!" Lisa pauses, catching her breath.

"It's just your imagination Lisa." A quick slap of her ass is all the motivation she needs.

Lisa bites her lip, lowering her body more and more–tears rolling down her face with every additional inch she takes in. Finally all the way down, she starts slowly making circular motions with her hips.

"Let me get used to this thing again."

Two minutes go by, then Lisa braces herself. She starts off slow, picking up speed with each successive bounce. You grit your teeth, simply along for the ride, Lisa using you for her pleasure.

Lisa is clearly enjoying herself, two months of your cock separated from her most precious hole was definitely too long. Her asshole is now fully adjusted to your length, Lisa humming the tune to her song.

"BOUNCIN BOUNCIN ON MY ASS TONIGHT!" Lisa belts out as she gets to that part of the song in her head, even having the energy to giggle at her own silly ad-lib.

The same story can't be said for you–the tight squeeze of her constricting muscles as she bounces up and down causes a groan to leave your mouth. Your hands grip her waist, trail around to her tight midriff, then slowly inch their way up–taking in the sensation of her smooth skin along the way. Finally reaching their destination, her adorable flat chest, you use two fingers on each hand to harshly pinch and pull at her nipples.

She screams out and moans, this reaction laughably predictable, Lisa's brain always translating pain into pleasure.

"Don't think I forgot what you did to me on your birthday, Oppa." Lisa threatens, purposely flexing her muscles, her asshole now squeezing you tighter than you thought was even possible.

"Ah! Okay stop! I'm sorry!"

Lisa laughs at your pathetic begging. She bounces up to feet, a slight feeling of desperation washes over you when your cock leaves the comfort of her tight asshole. You didn't mean for her to literally stop, but that desperation is quickly washed away when she bends over the couch.

"My legs are getting tired. It's your turn to fuck me Oppa." 

A needed break for another application of lubrication and you find yourself behind Lisa, leaning in close to whisper in her ear. "Are you ready?" Lisa silently nods and you're off to the races. Your thrusts start off strong, going in and out without needing to worry if she could take you all in.

Lisa is crying in pleasure, but still occasionally slips in comical dirty phrases trying to make you laugh. "... Pound my ass like it owes you money." being the most memorable. This is what makes fucking Lisa so enjoyable. She doesn't take herself too seriously, and she knows exactly what she wants–in her case, it's always your cock stuffed deep inside her ass. 

Lisa's body bends forward, burying her face even deeper into the cushions; perking her ass up even higher. Your length is able to poke and prod even deeper than ever, her moans now muffled by pillows. Noticing her right hand making circular motions against her clit, your thrusts maintain the same tempo, knowing this was her sweet spot. 

Her entire upper body tenses up, her left leg starts to quiver. A yank of her shoulder in an attempt to hear her cum is proven to be the correct choice, "You fuck me like a god oppa!" Lisa cries out as her orgasm flows throughout her body. Your thrusts slow down, not wanting to overwhelm her, but not stopping, still in pursuit of your own release.

"Let me go back on top. It's been too long since the last time I've been fucked like this. I need to be in control." 

Another needed lube break, and despite being exhausted, Lisa is never one to be a greedy lover. She's back in control, happily bouncing up and down, doing her favorite activity. 

Lisa was supposed to be doing this for your sake, but she couldn't control herself. You've seen it enough times to recognize the patterns–her breath becomes labored in a certain pattern, she stops her signature dirty talk and just simply moans. You can tell she's trying to hold it in, trying to consider your needs before hers. You appreciate the gesture, but seeing her cum is quickly becoming one of your favorite past times.

Your hand wraps around, middle and ring finger burying deep inside while your thumb circles her sensitive clit. The pleasure is too intense, Lisa stops bouncing and simply melts into your body. You take over, thrusting your cock upwards into her ass while your hand fiddles around in the front–Lisa is quickly overwhelmed, feeling pleasure from both ends.

"It's okay Lisa, just let go, cum for me." Just the slightest suggestion is all it takes. She releases her pent up orgasm, this one more intense than the last, her entire body tensing up. This also included her ass, the tight squeeze meant you're soon to follow her lead. Lisa feels the twitch of your dick, "Just do it inside." she's barely able to whisper it out. Those were wasted words, you never had plans to finish elsewhere, immediately succumbing to the grip of her ass, making no attempt to hold back.

Lisa feels at least five different spurts of thick hot cum filling up her ass, lightly moaning at each one. Lisa is beyond satisfied, remaining leaned back into your chest; your cock left deep in her ass.

"Can you still go?" Lisa asks you sweetly in between her heaving breath.

"I can still go if you can. Are you sure though? You look exhausted."

Lisa surprisingly shakes her head and picks up her phone from the side table to send out a text. Not even 10 seconds later, a knock is heard on the door. Lisa gets up, your cock finally leaving the warm comfort of her ass, making no effort to get dressed, or more importantly, to stop the stream of cum dripping onto the marble floor.

After answering the door, she returns to the couch, but she's not alone. "I heard this living sex doll talked you into fucking her while we were away." Lisa has one hand wrapped around a leash, leading in another person on the other end. Somi stands next to Lisa, her completely nude body glistening with a thick layer of oil, wearing only a collar around her neck that reads ‘Free Use.’ 

“What are you, Somi?” Lisa asks, her voice laced with pink venom.

“A free use cum dump for Oppa.”

"Good girl, now go ahead, show him what I taught you." Lisa harshly smacks Somi's ass.

"Do you want to fuck my ass, Oppa? Don’t worry - I can take it!” tilting her head, attempting to imitate the signature sickeningly cute aegyo voice of Lisa. 

Lisa claps and cheers at the eerily similar impersonation. 

Lisa maneuvers behind Somi, using both hands to cup and fondle Somi’s chest. “God these fucking tits are amazing.” Lisa mindlessly kneads the heavy mounds while looking at you. “I don’t blame you–feeling these in my hands makes me wanna fuck her too. What do you say, Oppa? I have some toys so I can test the limits of this free use whore with you."

[chobani-flip]

hazy sunset in the middle of the afternoon (1.5k, bucktommy, post-ep06)

I did a thing! after like 3 years, I wrote a fic! wooo!

The quiet hum of a car engine pulls him back to the waking world. His heart does an odd little dance in his chest when he registers his surroundings. His cheeks hurt, and he feels the pull of dry skin in the corners of his mouth. 

It feels like the world should be bathed in orange-pink hues of fading sunlight. It feels like they should be sharing a love seat under a palm tree, listening to the sounds of waves and the waking evening. Like the world should smell of salt-water on sun-kissed skin and creamy lotion.

Instead, the afternoon sun beats harsh against the concrete of the city, reflecting painfully through the car windows. 

Instead, Tommy’s got a seat belt digging into the muscles of his neck from where he's slumped in the passenger’s seat of Evan’s Jeep. He can smell the ten hours of a five-alarm fire, his own stale sweat on his turnouts, and underneath it all, the slightest tinge of Evan’s sea-breeze car freshener. 

His cheeks hurt, and he feels the pull of his dry lips in the corners of his mouth. He must have been smiling in his sleep.

“That’s not the way to Harbor,” he comments once he gets his mouth to open. Evan huffs out a laugh and Tommy wets his dry lips, watches the way his forearm muscles flex where he’s rucked up his hoodie sleeves as he shifts his hands on the steering wheel.

“Well, when you fell asleep halfway through me telling you the story of how I fixed a flat tire with cherry flavored bubblegum, I texted Eddie for your address.”

Evan flicks a raised eyebrow and a grin his way.

Tommy laughs and hopes the sound doesn’t give away too much. 

“Thank you.” 

His eyes might. 

He tries not to stare too hard at the dark smudges running through Evan’s stubble. It’s not easy, especially given the heat that rushes through him as he remembers the feeling of those short hard hairs rubbing against his skin, the sounds that came out of that generous mouth, the frankly insane elation at being kissed in greeting, in welcome, with such enthusiasm. 

“So you got the flat outside Spokane?”

the rest on AO3

[perpetualfox]

I wanna chomp into his arm and tell him to flex !! Fill my whole mouth with him and make him have to pinch my nose to get me off. Take a bite off the extra meat packed onto his inner thigh before eating that mf out. Chomp chomp chomp

Bite Me - Simon 'Ghost' Riley x GN!Reader [NSFW]

Warnings: Biting, blood play, pain play, rough handling.

Wordcount:

All I can say for myself is this:

→You kneel before him, taking your place at his feet like it’s the easiest thing in the world—an act of submission devoid of shame; one he beholds in silent wonder from his perch at the edge of the bed. He looms above you, still mostly clothed, his back ramrod straight—a soldier even in moments of respite. The thick treads of his boots sink into the plush carpet, his laces still pulled tight through dented metal eyelets; thick cord knotted so tight it creaks against the dark leather. His belt lays across his lap—flayed open in seconds by eager fingers—the heavy buckle lost beneath the sharp curve of his hipbone. When you had asked, he’d pealed back his cargos, but they’d made it no closer to the floor than his knees, the thick material bunched up beneath them—a show of vulnerability, but on his own terms.

→You’d taken it for the gift it was.

→Stretching forward, you crane your neck to nuzzle against the pale expanse of his inner thigh. His gloves creak as his fists ball into the sheets, and a little thrill goes through you—to be given so much for so little…from Ghost it was as near a dazzling smile or an earnest admission of love as you had ever come. It was intoxicating. You turn your head, lips grazing a hot stripe along his flesh. He twitches beneath you as you mouth along the knotted ridge of an old scar. You know them well, the stories Simon wears on his skin—the kiss of a knife from Mexico, the crater carved out by a bulled he’d caught in Verdansk, the evenly spaced tears of Russian razor-wire—each more terrible than the last, each beheld with a reverence with which he is woefully unfamiliar. Something in his guts squirms with a feeling he cannot name each time you turn it on him—not quite shame, though it takes a similar shape. It’s a battle not to squirm with it.

→Your lips ghost across a smooth patch of flesh, and you pause. The unmarred skin is cool under the heat of your mouth. Your teeth scrape against the flat, untextured skin. Ghost does not move. Your eyes flick up to meet his, eyebrows raised, questioning. In the darkness, you can’t make out the soft brown of his irises; there is nothing but the fathomless black of his pupils, swallowing everything. He stares down at you from behind that expressionless mask. There is no trace of Simon in that stare, only Ghost, his eyes flat and dead. But he understands you all the same, and he nods, the barest tilt of his head; a movement you would have missed if you hadn’t been looking for it. A smile splits your lips as you stamp a final, open-mouthed kiss against his thigh before you crack open your jaw, and sink your teeth in.

→You go slow, allowing him to feel the press of each individual tooth; the slow transition from a bearable pressure to a deep ache as each curve and point burrows deeper into his pale flesh. The hard muscle tenses and jumps beneath you as you bear down on him. His breath catches in his throat, a sharp hiss clamped tight between his teeth. You feel the skin pucker as you bite down, the pressure moulding his flesh around your teeth. It welcomes the strange new shapes as best it can, until, at last, it can take no more, and it tears. Fat droplets of blood well up and pool in the indentations you’ve made—the copper tang of it salty and warm on your tongue.

→You try to pull back, to offer reprieve from the pain that has him gritting his teeth and shuddering beneath you, but a heavy gloved hand thumps down against the back of your neck. He guides you—almost pushing you back down, urging your teeth deeper into the meat of his thigh. There is nowhere else to go, so you let yourself go limp, allowing your head to loll to the side, tucking neatly into the ‘v’ of his hip.

→The swell of his cock bumps up against your cheekbone, warm, and thick—even through a layer of black cotton—and harder than it had any right to be. Shifting your weight, you lean into him, pressing the soft meat of your cheek into the heat of him. A cooing sound chirps to life at the back of your throat, and you smile around his thigh, revelling in the knowledge that this was your doing—revelling in the smell of him, thick and heavy; in the weight of him against your cheek; in the little grunts that catch between his teeth.

→You lock your jaw, and his hold only tightens, the grip pads of his gloves scraping rough against your flesh as his fingers dig into the side of your throat. His thumb brushes against your cheek, coming to rest just beneath the corner of your jaw, pressing up hard enough you’re sure to have a bruise in the morning. He’s trembling beneath you now, almost rocking up into your mouth, even as your bicuspids threaten to do their job and widen the holes you’ve already made in him.

→“Fuck, Lovie,” His voice, little more than a gruff whisper, barely pricks at your ears, “…could cum like this.”

→A shudder rattles through you, your jaw flexing against his thigh, your teeth scraping against wounded and oversensitive flesh, drawing a strangled groan from his throat. Fluid drips warm and wet down over your chin and throat—saliva or blood—you don’t care. Your world narrows to a single point, big enough only for Ghost: the heat of his slick flesh in your mouth and the desperate throb of his cock against your cheekbone.

→Could he really?

→The thought barely registers in your mind before you’re clenching down hard enough to feel something click in your jaw. Ghost makes a wounded sound, his body jerking beneath you as a warm wetness begins to spread against your cheek.

→The hand at the back of your neck goes slack, and you pull yourself back, dizzy and shuddering. Ghost’s chest heaves, his limbs gone boneless and jittery as the aftershocks have their way with him. As he slowly drifts back to himself, his fingers trail absently through the slick mess you’ve made of his thigh. Blood and saliva dribble down to stain the sheets between his legs. When at last he feels present in his body again, he reaches out swipes a droplet of blood from your chin with a broad thumb, “Messy fuckin’ thing you are, hey?”

→You nod dumbly, the tang of his blood still sitting thick on your tongue. He pats your cheek, heavy and slow. Your head lolls against his large palm, your eyes going half lidded, fluttering with each rough stroke of his fingers. “‘S all your fault, Lovie, innit?”

→You nod and quick as a viper, he takes you by the back of the neck and presses your face down against the cum-damp fabric of his boxers, “And this too.” It isn’t a question this time, but you nod anyway. You can feel his spend already beginning to cool as his hips kick up against the softness of your cheek. “That’s right. So be fuckin’ useful and clean it up for me.”