#I meant to post abt this earlier

[touyafootfetish]

he’s following his head, and she’s following her heart

[yvotoro]

Hey everyone! I’m holding a 25% off sale across my print shop for all of March - use promo code 4YZIBFMI !

happy March~ ^_^🌱

[loverdlx]

pictures taken moments before disaster (hearing dbatc and yoyok back to back) 🥹🫶🏼

..and luckily our presence that night was documented 🤭🎬⬇️

[piningpercussionist]

Nonsense idea:

Scott's memories being altered by Gideon, but Gideon accidentally gives Scott preemptive knowledge of someone's transition.

[pnsge]

[anzynai]

warning: cringe…….. sappy shit…….

this is a little appreciation post for @thatonetickleblog because she means the world to me. shes sleeping rn (cuz shes a grandma) but shhhhh

its been exactly three years since she and i first talked (and even though she ghosted me the first time we talked😒), she has been my best friend for as long as i can remember. i am not sure if anyone will read this (besides her, but that doesnt matter because im writing this for her anyway) BUT GO FOLLOW HER! shes an amazing writer and her writing is so fun to read. u wont regret it!

she’s genuinely the kindest and the most amazing person ever and she deserves so much. i feel so lucky to call her my best friend.

im gonna stop now bc i dont think anyone will appreciate a five paragraph essay on how much i appreciate u, but thank you for always being there for me. i love you SO much, lynn and i hope we are friends for many, many years to come. 🫶

[writedisaster]

Oh shoot, it's Charlevoix's “birthday” the day after tomorrow! I'm gonna do this one a little different than I do my other muses' birthdays, cuz Charlevoix's a little different. He doesn't like to receive gifts or be the center of attention, but he does like to take time to reflect on and be grateful for the people around him - which he usually shows by cooking a special shared meal and giving out small personal gifts.

So: like this post / comment with a muse for that muse to get a little gift from Charlevoix on his birthday!

[waywardsalt]

anyways. holding linebeck gently

[carcarrot]

me: life is meaningless. there's no point to doing anything ever

sparks: *specifically mention movie trailers among the list of sparkstember works in their post*

me: nevermind :)

[xbadnews]

thinking abt percy styling his hair to make himself look older

[dawnedon]

Dawn hadn't slept at all for the night, not even after the clock had struck midnight. For her, her New Year's didn't end there. Color was already beginning to bleed into the dark skies, hearkening the sun's eventual arrival.

She could feel the chill in the air from the frigid seas upon her face, the cold keeping her more awake and alert than normal. The rest of her body was cradled in a wetsuit, insulating her from Sinnoh's unforgiving sea.

Emperor stood next to her, eyeing the inky waters. As rough and cruel as the ocean could be, she was calm this morning. The waters along the southern edge of the region battered rocky outcrops, being a treacherous length of sea for even the most seasoned of sailors to traverse. Today, it was almost as if the ocean was welcoming them.

The pair made their way to the water, Dawn tossing her braid over her shoulder. The sea hummed around her as she made her way further in. Lighter blues and teals danced along the rippling waves as the sky lightened with each passing moment. Dawn situated herself on Emperor's back, and the Empoleon cut through the ocean with unmatched grace.

They traveled eastward, Sunyshore passing by on Dawn's left. Light from the lighthouse cut through the remaining bands of darkness, a silent and solitary beacon that kept Sinnoh's sailors safe from the rocky shores.

Throngs of cold-water dwelling pokemon made way for the duo. Separating to let them through, and then converging back together once they'd passed. It was a sight to behold each and every time, despite Dawn having witnessed it several years in a row.

Neither of them ever made any attempts of communication when they were out here like this. They didn't really need to in the first place - they both understood one another on such a deep level that it was unnecessary. It was a time for them both to reflect on themselves, and to bask in the quiet.

Golds and oranges began to bleed into blue hues, pushing the cooler colors away and towards the west. The sun was just about ready to make its entrance, it seemed. It wasn't long before Emperor would stop. Sinnoh was long behind them now, Sunyshore a mere blip on the western horizon. Ahead of them stretched nothing but the endless sea, no other landmasses to be seen.

Dawn could feel a frigid pang in her heart, veins turning to ice for a moment as her head swam. Midnight eyes couldn't help but peer deep into the sea; her gaze was met by bands of glowing red far, far below.

Giratina.

Suddenly, the ocean being so calm made much more sense to her. It was only calm because Giratina willed it. Dawn knew what the goddess of chaos was capable of. She could bring a cataclysm upon this earth with a mere breath, a mere fraction of her power, if she so wished. But instead, Dawn could see a pair of glowing red eyes staring back up at her as Giratina's titanic figure slowly meandered beneath them.

There wasn't the same fear that gripped Dawn's heart after her second run-in with Giratina alongside May. Instead, there was a mutual understanding between the two now. The bottomless gap between the two of them finally had been bridged, though how strong the bridge was was yet to be seen. However... Dawn could only feel a sense of awe as she watched her patron deity, her bonded legendary.

Dawn closed her eyes for a moment, feeling her mind connect to Giratina's. Suddenly, Dawn wasn't in the ocean anymore. They stood before one another, Giratina in her human guise.

'Passing through?' Dawn would question, the words echoing in their shared mindspace. The woman before her would merely nod. Piercing crimson eyes stared into Dawn's very soul, but she did not shake this time.

'Yes,' she'd respond after a moment. Giratina had clearly been gauging the Champion - what she had seen and felt was yet to be determined, but Dawn could tell that Giratina was much more relaxed. 'This is the year of the dragon, after all. I figured showing up might bring you some good luck this year. I think you need it.'

It was hard for Dawn to tell when Giratina was joking, with how dry she usually was. She couldn't help but smile either way, a pleasant feeling tickling her heart. 'That, and I was curious about what you were doing. Going this far east so early? Do you do this every year?'

Giratina definitely had strange ways of showing that she cared - something that Dawn understood very well. They were a lot more alike than she'd thought previously. Despite everything that happened with them, their bond was starting to make more sense to Dawn. She wondered if Giratina could say the same.

'The first sunrise of the year?" Dawn finally replies, before nodding, 'It's part of my New Year's traditions. It's something I've done since I was a kid.' She pauses thoughtfully, eyes meeting Giratina's again. 'Real quick, before I go. Do you... have a shrine, or... a temple, or anything like that? Something I can visit this morning once I get back.'

It was a question the goddess genuinely seemed taken aback by, as if this were the first time anyone had ever asked her such a thing. Giratina's reaction made Dawn feel a bit sad, in a way. A sadness she didn't want to feel too deeply or strongly, lest Giratina be able to tell through their bonded souls.

'There should be one near Sendoff Spring. It's... been so long, though, the path is more than likely overgrown. The shrine itself is probably in total disrepair. It was one of the only structures dedicated to myself that Arceus didn't destroy because it was so well hidden.'

Dawn finds herself nodding solemnly. In her ancestor's journal, Dawn recalled reading an entry detailing three statues of the Creation Trio, with only Giratina's being totally destroyed.

'That's okay. I'll go there later. I can help clean it up a bit.' A sensation of surprise washed over Dawn, though it was not her own surprise she was feeling. Giratina could only blink, before the briefest, tiniest of smiles appeared on her lips. 'You're too much. Every time I think I start to understand you, you do something that makes even me confused. I think you're going to be an enigma to me forever, Dawn.'

The Champion lets out a quiet laugh, shaking her head. 'An enigma to the most eldritch and unknown legendary out there? I'm flattered.' Giratina could only roll her eyes, but the feeling of mirth between the two was palpable.

'I know I'm so much fun to talk to, but you should go before you miss that sunrise of yours.'

And just like that, Dawn would slowly open her eyes. It was like she woke up from a dream. The sea around her was bathed in golden light, and the first few rays of actual sunlight crested over the horizon. Any remaining darkness in the sky was banished as the sun appeared to rise out of the ocean itself. She felt Giratina's presence slowly retreating back to the shores, and she and Emperor were alone once again.

The first rays of morning light felt warm on Dawn's face despite the freezing temperature of the air. It warmed her very heart and soul, instilling a deep sense of peace in her. It was the strangest, most interesting start to her New Year by far - but it wasn't unwelcome. If anything, it only made her more confident that this would be a good year after all.

[nerdstreak]

also will this sway the hanzo nonbelievers /hj

hanzocto sims first kissie

[ajdrawshq]

Coming back to the guild made me all emotional do you promise me that that's the worst turmoil this game's story has for me aj aj do you prommy

-

@mortellanarts WELL. that depends . what happened before u came back to the guild bc that does happen a few times XKBSJXB

[fifteensjukebox]

i sent vacation crush the pictures from the trip and thanked me n said he didn't even know i took most of them and i said im like google earth always takin pics (forgetting he has zero pop culture knowledge like. i know he was born during their time but i had to explain who the spice girls are? anw google earth is maybe funnier without knowing im quoting leslie knope) ANYWAY my point here was that he sent and deleted like a triple text of replies?? i think there was another thank you, sth else innocuous and one that started with "you're making" im what, making his day? to which i would've said him saying that made my day but it was gone when i clicked the notification

[guummy]

GODS & MONSTERS

pairing : god!jason todd ⠀𝒙⠀ nymph!fem!reader | words : 1.8k

summary : ‘put your hands on my waist, do it slowly.’

contents. allusions to mistreatment ( from the other gods ), half of this is actual plot, the second half is smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, stalking ( idk )

note. so, I made a post earlier this month abt this fic, and a lot of people took an interest in, so if this flops then everyone lied to me /j, but thank you to that anon who told me to carry on writing it bc I would have forgotten about it. this fic is giving meeting ur celeb crush not knowing that in the future, you’ll be married

#. main masterlist. | dc masterlist. | jason todd masterlist.

OVER AND OVER again, the older nymphs had to follow your every move. They said you had the mind of a curious adventurer, and although your sisters were the same, you couldn’t help but find curiosity outside your own home. So, as you rested your back against a tree, playing with a piece of thread between your fingers, you couldn’t help but wonder how long would pass until they found you.

One of your most favoured pastimes was to watch the supposed god that visited the riverbank every morning. The first time you ever laid eyes upon him, you asked your sister who he was. A god of war, who was supposedly sane enough to accompany the war of mortal men if they worshipped him to his liking. If he was lucid enough to subjugate his godliness to the land of humans, perhaps he was rational when it came to love. Instead of chasing and manipulating women to his enjoyment such as the other gods of Olympus, perhaps he was gentle enough to devote himself to a lover.

And you were one who loved devotion.

As a nymph, you craved it just as you longed for the touch of cold water to soothe your skin.

Now, that you peered around a tree, glancing at the god, you couldn’t help but revel in his presence, watching as he performed his daily routine. You revelled in the way he curled his fingers into fists, his gaze locked onto the soft rushing of the waves and ripples of the water. And apart from that, and the bellowing of the wind, there was nothing else you could hear, not the breathing of either of you or the creatures around as if they were kept silent at the sight of the god.

In the midst of your obnoxious staring, you let out a small yelp in pain as you happened to impale the tender skin of your palm with something protruding from the ground, drawing his attention over to the source of the noise; your incompetent lips.

“Who’s there? Come out,” he demanded, his voice sending shivers down your fragile spine.

Cursing under your breath, you stood up and slowly approached him from your hiding, leaving prints in the soil as you stood before his towering figure.

“Forgive me,” you begged as you bowed.

When you felt his fingers on your chin, your body trembled as he lifted your face to look at you.

“There is no need to,” he replied, his voice deep and hoarse.

You would have expected him to end your life there and then, yet, he gazed at you in a way that beckoned you to say more, your body weakening at his viridescent pupils.

“Are you Jason?” You asked, eyes widening as you realised how close you were.

To be noticed by a god was startling, but to have one touch you whilst you stare at each other was viewed as only a dream.

“And you are?” He asked.

As you told him your name, he repeated it with a small smile, gesturing for you to stand up.

“And what do I owe the pleasure of meeting a nymph?” He asked, circling you slowly. “Don’t worry, I won’t hurt you,” he spoke as he watched you step away from him. “I’ve seen you before,” he confessed. “You watch me from over there. And you return to the river when I leave.”

“I never meant to stare at the beginning,” you replied, biting on your inner cheek as you played with the fabric of your clothing, your voice becoming silent as you finished your confession.

“Why do you stare?” Jason asked, crossing his arms.

“Why do you visit the river?” You questioned him, the mischief you were born with as a nymph seeping through your shyness. “You’re a god, you’re handsome, and I cannot stare?”

“I visit these waters to pay respect to someone I lost,” he replied after you answered his question.

Barely any of the gods respected mere humans so his confession had your mouth agape.

“Were they your lover?” You asked.

“A friend,” he corrected.

You didn’t know if he could tell what you were thinking but inherently, you were satisfied he was an unmarried and untaken god. Naturally, gods had affairs and multiple marriages, but the idea of his attention simply being on you had you flustered.

You nodded in understanding as you looked over at the ripples practically telling you to come back.

“I’ve been away from home for too long, my sisters will probably be looking for me,” you whispered, staring back up at the god before you, your heart beating and the pits of your stomach fluttering.

Choosing a pebble from the bank of the river, you held it in front of him before placing it in his palm when he held it out.

“To remember me by,” you muttered before taking a step backwards.

Glancing at him one more time, you made your way back along the river, deciding in your head your sisters would never hear of this interaction.

Not only was he a revengeful and a passionately driven god, he was also wise. The two of you seemed to talk every possible moment; at the break of dawn, sat on the riverbank a few yards away from your home, or late in the afternoons where you showed him your favourite comfort places around the woods you had spent your life in.

Yet, everyday, you had tried to push yourself to offer yourself to him as a sort of gift, if he’d accept you anyways. You were noticeably touchy with him, whether the pads of your fingers grazing over the embellishments and carvings in his armour or making sure your hands brushed against his larger limbs.

One late evening, the confidence you had been longing for finally came as you stood before him in a coven of trees, desperate to tell him of your deep and solid feelings.

“I want you to have me,” you confessed, breaking the silence between the two of you, your hands held out in front of you as your gaze was focused on the ground.

“Excuse me?” He replied, needing reassurance of what you said.

“I want to give myself to you,” you added.

Jason paused for a moment before resting his hands on your hips.

“Insolent gods only want to please themselves, but I don’t wish for the same. I don’t want you to offer yourself to me, but if you truly want this, all you have to do is tell me,” he explained, his hand resting against the back of your head. “I don’t wish to have your body if you cannot have mine.”

Slightly nodding in understanding, your hands drifted to the hems of your clothes.

“Do you want me?” You whispered, twisting your clothing between your fingers.

“In all my life I’ve never wanted someone more,” he confessed, leaning slightly to meet your gaze.

At his words, you began to remove the fabric clinging onto your skin, standing still in front of him as your breath quivered.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his hands resting on your hips as he pressed a kiss to your jaw, his lips travelling down to your neck.

Your body was cold to the touch, and when he brought your hand up to press a kiss to your palm, your body shivered and grew warm under his touch.

If Jason’s men found him like this, found him making love to a nymph, they’d probably cheer, but you knew he wasn’t simply doing so because it had been so long for him, but because in the last few days, he had grown fond of you, and it was an act of feverish desire to hold you.

“Lie down for me,” he mumbled, yet, his voice was loud.

Doing as he said, you laid down on the sheets of clothing you previously removed, watching as he knelt down, pressing his hands to your inner thighs as he gestured for you to spread your legs.

Soon, he was clad with no clothes, brushing soft kisses across the expanse of your stomach as he gazed up at you, worshipping your body even though it should have been the other way around.

You were already practically his goddess.

Jason was tender with his touch, his hands gripping at your waist as he pushed his cock inside your clenching hole. The girth of it had you gasping as your head lolled back and your eyes shut in both pain and pleasure.

“Please,” you whispered when he paused in his movements. Your small beg led to him beginning to move, slowly pistoning his length in and out of your soaked core, the soft sounds of skin colliding hidden beneath the rustling of leaves and lapping of water.

It was your first time, yet, his gentleness distracted you from how much it hurt and soon, instead of cries, small whimpers soon fell from your lips, your eyes closing as he drove his length inside you.

“Jason ── ,” you hushed, your eyes fluttering as you looked up at him with your blown pupils. His hands gripped tighter at your waist as thrusted into your cunt, your walls sensitive around his length.

You trembled underneath him, revelling in the warmth of his body against yours as the soft winds blew against your skin. Your body had practically welcomed him, and it was then that you realised that you were no longer a virgin.

That you were losing it to a god.

One who whispered your name repeatedly as he pressed against your flesh, handling you with care and the urgency to bring you to your release

You were annoyed that he was so gentle in his touch, drawing you close to tears as he bullied his twitching cock in and out of your chaste and tight hole, but not selfishly that you were in pain and he didn’t boast in his lack of ego. Small pleads and whispers spewed from your lips as his own breath hitched, your walls clenching with every thrust.

Burrowing your face in the crook of his neck, you could feel the knot in your stomach tightening, Jason’s hips meeting yours with such a lack of rhythm; you knew how desperately he wanted to claim you as his. And soon, you felt yourself come undone underneath him, your body trembling as your orgasm crashes upon you. Jason soon shuddered as he filled you up with spurts of his hot cum, his groans too godly to be heard by your nymph ears.

“Your mine, and I’m yours,” he quivered, still bucking his hips against yours.

‘You’re already mine,’ he whispered, and at that, you knew he was never going to let you go.

[froggibus]

Sex Rocks! - AMAB! Venture

Pairing: AMAB! Sloan Cameron x fem! Reader (reader uses fem pronouns + has a pussy)

Genre: smut/NSFW

Word Count: 4.6k

Summary: Sloan is in for much more than they bargained for when they find a statue with magical properties—and you might be the only one who can help them out

CW: porn with plot, AMAB! Venture, sex pollen (but it’s a magical sex statue), dubcon, masturbation, showering, dirty thoughts (abt reader), slight voyeurism, blowjob, hair pulling, face fucking, cum swallowing, cock riding, mating press, multiple orgasms, protected AND unprotected sex, doggy style, multiple rounds, overstim, lots of cum, (think that's everything) use of the word shaft (im so sorry i hate this word but there’s only so many synonyms for dick)

yes the title is a pun ^.^ i meant to post this way earlier in the day but i got distracted and didn't end up finishing til tonight and it came out WAY LONGER than i thought. this is fr the longest smut ive ever written. anyway venture whores hope you all enjoy <3

It must’ve been Sloan’s lucky day. After barely an hour of searching, the glittering artifact they’d been looking for seemed to jump right out. Though the dusty gold colour blended in with the shimmering sand of the cavern, the three pink gems of the small statuette seemed to call to them. 

The figure was cold to the touch and buttery, barely bigger than the size of their hand. It was shaped like a beautiful curvy woman, with full breasts accentuated with the pink stones and a thick tummy—the likeness of some old, forgotten deity that Sloan could never remember the name of. 

They took out a soft piece of cut cloth and wrapped the statue before tucking it in their pack and beginning the short trek to the surface. Sloan buzzed the whole way up, that warm tingling washing over them. The kind they always felt when they found a new artifact, or when you laughed at one of their dumb jokes. 

As the surface came into view, the golden sunshine just beginning to dip below the horizon, the warmth grew stronger. It had been a hot day, and it seemed that though the sun was setting, the heat had not yet begun to dissipate. They took a long pause, letting themself rest on the rocks outside of the cave.

Wiping the sweat away from their forehead, they took a big drink from the canteen of water they’d brought along with them. It was a short trek, they weren’t usually this sweaty and parched from something so basic—but with the warmth of the day at its peak, they shrugged it off.

The car they’d taken was only just down the trail, maybe ten minutes away. With one last sip of their cold water, they tucked it into their pack and started the walk back. The sky was turning pink as they set off, but slowly turned to purple and then the rich black of night.

Despite the day’s end, the heat only grew more unbearable with the walk. Their thighs cramped as they made their way down the trail, their heart beginning to race. Whatever, they tried to ignore it and power through to the car.

Sweat coated Sloan’s forehead and chest by the time they made it to their vehicle. Their hair was slicked to the back of their neck, and the t-shirt they’d been wearing was rendered near see-thru. 

“Jeez,” they sighed, tugging off their t-shirt.

They tossed the sweaty fabric into their backseat along with their pack before sliding in the front seat to drive. They kept the AC on full blast the whole trip back home, though it did little to stop the boiling in their blood. 

Sloan was just pulling off the highway when a gasp forced its way out at the sudden tight feeling in their pants. They risked a glance down to their hard cock now straining against the thick fabric of their carharts. They shook it off, turning onto their street and trying to ignore the feeling of the bulge in their pants only growing with each minute.

It was almost painfully hard by the time they made it home. Sloan almost forgot their pack in the back of the car in their race to get inside and free their aching cock from the fabric that confined it. 

A sigh ghosted their lips when their cock sprung free from their boxers and they wrapped their sweaty palm around it. Their core was near sweltering, their cock throbbing in need. 

With a glance at the door to make sure it was locked behind them, Sloan spat in their hand and started to spread it across their aching cock. A shiver crawled its way up their spine, acting as a brief reprieve from the heat that threatened to consume them. They clamped a hand over their mouth and began to slide their hand up their length.

With barely a touch, they were already so sensitive. Pre cum dripped down the tip, pooling across their fingertips and mixing with the saliva already spread over their skin. They squeezed harder, dragging their hand up and down faster. Their muffled moans vibrated against the clammy skin of their palm, their eyes falling shut as their hand fell into a rhythm.

Thoughts of you filled their head. Thoughts of your smile, of your warm skin, of pinning you to the bed and using you however they pleased. Sloan gasped, opening their eyes as they came into their palm.

Fuck. Cum rolled across their fingers, down their still hard cock and collected into the hair at the base of their pubic bone. They smeared the remainder of the cum on their thighs, shaking off the aftershocks of their orgasm and deciding a cold shower would solve both the mess they made, and the throb between their legs.

With their clean hand, they dragged their backpack with them all the way to their bedroom, tossing it in the corner before grabbing a towel and heading into the bathroom. They didn’t wait for the water to warm before stripping and stepping beneath the brisk stream.

The cool water settled the burning beneath their skin—but only just barely. Much to Sloan’s dismay, it also did nothing to soothe the ache between their legs. It was almost embarrassing, having an unrelenting boner for no reason like they were in school again.

They sighed, squeezing some coconut scented body wash into their hand and slicking across their cock. They didn’t bother to change the water back to warm, instead opting to let the frigid stream drip down their back. The nice smelling soap felt much, much better than their own spit—but they could imagine a few things that would feel even better.

Like your pretty lips wrapped around their tip, those kind eyes of yours pleading at them to cum in your mouth and—Sloan moaned, fingers clenching around their hard length. Just the thought of you touching them, or them touching you, was enough to have Sloan gasping and furiously jerking their cock.

Drops of soap flew away from their palm with every stroke, splattering the tile of the shower in front of them. God, wouldn’t they love to do that to you. What they wouldn’t give to do that to you. To have you lay down in front of them, completely at their mercy while they fucked you relentlessly and left you covered in their cum.

Their cock twitched, and then they were cumming. Wave after wave of hot cum burst out, coating the tile in front of them before being washed away by the water. Hard, shaking breaths wracked their chest as their senses returned to them and they could once again feel the cool water against their tanned skin. 

As they looked at the cum mixing with the water down the drain, all they could think was ‘what a waste.’

It only took ten minutes after their shower for the tingling in their cock to become unbearable again. The heat had returned almost immediately—and with a vengeance—but they’d managed to ignore the tenderness between their legs for only ten minutes.

Sloan was glad they didn’t bother putting their clothes back on as they settled into their bed and grasped their shaft once more. Cumming once or twice a day was normal for them, but this was something else entirely. Something had to be wrong.

Sloan pushed away their fears and started once again stroking their dick, leftover water and precum acting as a lubricant for their hand to easily slide around. They closed their eyes, and let themself think of you once more. 

How their cum would look running down your thighs, or splattered on your back. How nice your hands would feel gripping their cock, how you’d just beg them to fuck you.

Sweat dripped down their chest, wetting their tummy and the dark hair at the base of their cock. How long had they been jerking off this time? They risked a teary eyed glance at the screen of their phone—had it really been almost twenty minutes since they laid down in bed?

Twenty minutes and they were no closer to coming, but their dick was growing uncomfortably hard. A sigh passed through their lips. Their hand wasn’t enough, they needed something more, something hotter. 

Their mind went to you, pleasure hazed thoughts wondering if they called you, would you come? Would you help them? Before they could think it through, their fingers were dancing across the screen. Just the sight of the tiny contact picture of you at the top of their screen had them squeezing tighter, thick drips of pre cum rolling down their tip.

Sloan lets themself fall back into bed, their mind dancing away to thoughts of you sinking down on their cock. They roll their head to the side, their eyes catching sight of the bag they’d carelessly tossed in the corner just before their shower. 

Could the statue have done this? There were myths surrounding it, sure, but this? The thought was preposterous a week ago. Now though, with their insatiable lust, the thought doesn’t seem so crazy to Sloan.

Shit. They shouldn’t drag you into this. If it really is the statue, they don’t want to expose you to this. They reach for their phone to ask you not to come, to send you away, but just as their palm reaches the cold metal, the front door clicks open.

“Sloan?” You call, peaking your head in the front door. As soon as you’d gotten their message, you’d left your house. You’re talking more to yourself than them at this point, tiptoeing through the dark of their home. “I used the spare key you gave me to get in…are you here?”

Sloan bit their lip at the sound of your voice, risking a glance to the bag that contained the statue. Maybe inviting you here wasn’t such a bad idea after all. 

“In here!” they call. Their voice is raspy, dripping with the need radiating from their core.

You follow the sound of their voice to the closed door of their bedroom, warm light leaking out from the cracks. It’s Sloan, and they don’t sound like they’re in danger, but something about their voice…

You push open the door. It takes two seconds for you to scan the room, two seconds for your eyes to fall on Sloan—sweaty, writhing and desperately jerking their cock in bed—and two seconds for you to turn away, covering your eyes.

“Shit,” you gasp. “I–I didn’t mean to walk in on you.”

But it’s strange. They called you here to help them, they knew you were going to come into their room—was this what they needed your help with? You couldn’t help but clench your legs at the thought, a heat rushing to your core.

Sloan’s voice cut through the darkness of your hand. “I-it’s okay,” they say. “You can look.”

You slowly peel your hand away from your eyes. Though they covered themself with a blanket, you could still see the glistening skin of their chest, and the up-down motion of their hand beneath the fabric. 

Sloan knows it’s shameless of them to keep stroking their cock while talking to you, while you’re right there watching—but they can’t stop. Now that you’re here in front of them, the pressure’s increased tenfold.

You squint. “What’s going on?”

“I found that statue.” They keep jerking off.

“And?”

“The rumors about it were true.”

“Fuck,” you curse. 

When they’d been telling you about the myths behind the statue, you’d both laughed it off, stealing wanton glances at each other as you did. They’d assured you it wasn’t possible, that there was no scientific reason a statue would bear unto its users an insatiable appetite for sex.

Seeing them now, though, all sweaty and desperate, has you thinking they were wrong. 

“Sloan,” you say calmly, stepping in the room and gently shutting the door behind you, “what can I do to help?”

They bite your lip, and it’s just now that you notice their eyes are almost completely black in lust. A shiver runs up your spine. 

They pull back the blanket. “Touch me,” they swallow. “Please.”

You glance at their thick, throbbing cock dripping in precum. It’s everything you’ve ever wanted, wrapped up in the worst possible way. It wouldn’t be right—they’re clearly not thinking straight. 

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Sloan’s not sure whether it’s the statue, or their frustration, or some terrible combination of the two that prompts them to say, “oh don’t tell me you haven’t been wanting me to fuck you for months.”

Their brazenness sends another wave of heat to your core, your underwear suddenly feeling wetter than usual. “Sloan,” you say carefully.

“If you’re worried about consent,” they rasp. “I want it. All the time. For months, too. I think about it nonstop.”

Their words ease your nerves, and you find yourself approaching their bedside. Your eyes stayed glued to their cock and the hand furiously stroking it. “What do you think about?”

They watch you, dedicating each pump of their length to you. “I think about you while I fuck myself. I think about—about fucking you, and having you bounce on my cock and—god.”

You sink down on the bed next to them, wrapping your hand around the one rubbing their dick. “Let me.”

They slide their hand away, letting you take over. Already, your hand feels a million times better than theirs ever did, the ache in their core finally beginning to relent. They lay their head back, watching your hand glide across their sticky skin.

They suck in a breath. “Fuck,” they look at you through their lashes. “Use your mouth.”

You’re taken aback by their command. Their cock looks so inviting, dripping wet and throbbing in your palm. It’s bigger than anything you’ve ever had which only makes you want it more.

You look them in the eyes while you lick a bead of precum away from the tip. Sloan shivers, wrapping a hand in your hair and pulling you down. You gasp as you take their cock into your mouth, wrapping your lips around it. It’s salty, a mix of sweat and precum, with a strange undertone of coconut—but it’s just how you imagined it.

Your jaw strains to take them into your mouth, their tip hitting the back of your throat after only a few seconds. You gag slightly, but Sloan only pushes your hand down further, groaning at the warmth of your mouth. This was exactly what they needed.

As soon as you start to see black spots, they pull you off. A strand of drool connects your lips to their length, dripping and coating your chin. They hum at the sight of you, so filthy already.

“Do you like how it tastes?”

You’re so flustered, so bewildered by the situation that you can only nod, clenching the base of their cock. You put your lips back on their tip and eagerly slide down for more. Their calloused fingers still tug at your hair, using the strands like reins to push and pull you how they see fit.

Sloan watches you intently the whole time, admiring the spit that coats your mouth and the way your throat bulges when they pull you a certain way. They’ve dreamt about fucking you for months now, but none of their wildest dreams could ever compare to this.

Despite the way your eyes water, Sloan pulls you down further. You look so fucking cute choking on their thick cock—they can’t help it. When you finally slap a hand against their thigh, they let go of your head and watch you gasp for air.

“Get on your knees,” they command.

You can only nod, not trusting your voice with the way your throat burns. The dominance in them only makes you wetter, a noticeable throbbing rushing through your clit. You’re all too eager to settle on your knees at their bedside.

They cup your chin, swiping their thumb across your lips to smear your drool and their pre across them. “So cute,” they murmur.

You lean back in to take their cock once more, but they tsk at you. Just as you tilt your head in confusion, you watch as Sloan grips their cock and rubs the messy, wet tip across your mouth. They smear it all across your face, making a mess all over your cheeks and nose.

A whine slips from your lips before you can stop it, but Sloan only laughs at it and finally lets their cock slap against your mouth. You open wide and take them once more, rolling your tongue over their length.

“So eager,” they tease, their fingers resuming their position in your hair, “if I’d known you’d be such a slut for me, I would’ve fucked you months ago.”

Sloan watches the shame glimmer in your eyes, followed by pure pleasure, and doesn’t miss the way you rock your hips against the floor. 

It only takes a few minutes of you on your knees before they’re coming, pushing your head down so you have no choice but to swallow their cum. Your eyes shoot wide as the hot cum spills in your mouth, pulling back from their cock and opening your mouth so they can see it.

“Good girl,” they purr. “Now swallow.”

You nod and obey without a second thought, licking their cock a few more times after to clean up the excess. “Sloan,” you say quietly, your voice raspy from the way they just fucked your throat.

“Hm?”

“Do you have condoms?”

They tap the nightstand that you’re sitting next to. “You wanna fuck me?”

You pass them the condom, eagerly waiting as they lay back in bed and roll it over their cock. Though they’re slow to put it on, you don’t miss the way their hands shake in anticipation.

Sloan watches you the whole time as you strip, discarding your clothes as quickly as you can. You climb onto the bed and straddle their waist, a knee on either side of their hips. Their hands clench your waist tightly, fingertips digging in hard enough to bruise. 

Usually Sloan would be happy to let you adjust, but with the warmth of your pussy right there, they can’t wait any longer. Using your hips as leverage, they thrust up into you, the tip of their cock bottoming out against your cervix.

You cry out, burying your head against their sticky chest. “Sloan,” you whine.

“Sorry,” they pant, but continue thrusting into you.

You relax into them, slamming your hips into theirs to meet their rhythm. It’s painful at first, both the stretch of their cock and how deep it reaches—but it’s amazing, too.

Sloan barely thinks as they pound in and out of you, using your own body weight as leverage to get their cock deeper and deeper with each thrust. Your whines are like music to their ears, complemented by the rhythm of matching groans they loose every time their cock brushes your cervix.

You cum so hard you swear you go blind for a second. Everything is hot, your vision goes white, and all you can focus on is the way your cunt is gushing around their cock, juices coating their thighs. You go limp on their chest for a minute, letting them fuck you like a toy while you recover.

Sloan’s own orgasm isn’t far behind, their cock twitching as they spill into the condom—though they’d much rather spill into you. They almost draw blood with how tightly their nails dig into your sides, and the only word they seem to remember is your name.

Even though they’re unbearably hot and their cock is so sensitive it hurts, they still need more. 

“Can I keep going? Tell me I can keep going.”

You’re exhausted from the brutal pace they’ve set, but their cock fills you so well and they sound so desperate, you have no choice but to say yes. Upon your agreement, Sloan is flipping you onto the mattress beneath them and bending your legs to your chest. 

They can get deeper like this, and Sloan knows it too. They start their pace off slower this time, trying to give you time to recover before their own need takes over. They hold your hands, pinning them above your head while they fuck you.

Their eyes lock with yours as they increase the pace, the tip of their cock hitting that spot inside of you perfectly every time. There are tears in your eyes from the pleasure, but it only makes them harder. 

“Too deep,” you whine, squeezing their hands with as much strength as you can muster.

“You don’t love having me fill you up?” They mumble into your ear, “if I can’t stuff you with my cum, I’ll fill you with my cock.”

You gasp and squeeze your eyes shut, their dirty words sending you over the edge. You try to clench your knees together but Sloan’s body is in the way. They fuck you through your orgasm, squeezing your hands back with every bit of pressure you squeeze theirs with.

“That’s it,” though their words are soft, they punctuate each one with a thrust, “cum on my cock.”

They slide their hands down your body, resting on your hips once more. Their thrusts start to get sloppy, and you know they can’t last much longer like this. You reach up, desperate for something—anything—to ground yourself, your fingers coming in contact with their hair.

Sloan whines and cums in one sloppy motion, resting their head on your neck while they lazily thrust through their high. Soft groans and whines vibrate against your collarbone.

It takes a minute for them to collect their strength again, pulling their cock out of you. You look at them through tear blurred vision, eyes widening at the cum soaked condom dripping into the wild tangle of hair at the base of their length. There’s a ring of white around their cock from it all, and the only thought crossing your mind is how badly you want to lick it off.

Sloan can’t decide whether to admire the sheer amount of cum filling the condom, or be disappointed that they weren’t able to fuck it into you instead. They pull it off of their cock and toss it onto the floor—it’ll be a pain to clean later, but they don’t care. They reach into their nightstand for another one, but your hand wraps around their wrist first.

“You’re still hard?”

As if in reply, their cock twitches against your leg. Though the searing heat has finally begun to fade, the pure need coursing through their veins has not.

“You’re done already?” They counter.

“N-no,” you say quickly, though your pussy feels unbearably sensitive in the cold room. “But you don’t need to use that.”

They look down at the purple wrapper in their hand, then back up at you. Their eyes practically glitter in anticipation. “Raw?”

You nod shyly, reaching out your arms to beckon them back to you. You’ll never be able to match their insatiable pace—you know that—but you told them you’d help, even if it means letting them use you like a fleshlight.

They plant a kiss to the base of your throat, a devilish twinkle in the dark of their eyes. “Roll onto your knees.”

With their help, you roll onto your stomach and pull your knees up, arching your back to give them access to your dripping cunt. Too tired to keep your chest up, you rest your cheek against the single pillow in their bed and let yourself relax.

Sloan’s hands retrace the marks they left on your lips earlier, positioning you perfectly to line up with their cock. They land a harsh slap to your cunt with the head of their cock and slip it in all at once, relishing in the gasp that leaves your lips.

They rock their hips into yours, reaching up to tangle a hand in your hair. With one hand gripping your hips and another in your hair, they piston into you. You bite your lip to try and cover the onslaught of moans they fuck out of you and pray that Sloan doesn’t have neighbors—although at this point, they’ve probably heard enough.

“Feels even better raw,” they groan, balls slapping against your clit with a particularly brutal thrust. “S’like it was made for me.”

The burning in the pit of your stomach grows at their dirty words, your pussy utterly gushing around their length. Without the condom, you can feel the desperate throbbing of their cock, feel every twitch of their tip when they bottom out inside of you. They reach everywhere inside you, rubbing places you didn’t even know you had.

Waves of pleasure roll over you, each more intense after the last. Your pussy flutters around Sloan’s cock, but their pace doesn’t slow. They keep slamming into you, lewd slapping noises loud enough to cover your desperate moans. They tug your hair hard, pulling you closer, and roll their hips against yours.

Their cockhead brushes your cervix and your eyes roll back in the sharp pleasure that travels through your pussy. Drool leaks from the side of your mouth and your moans transform from fully formed words to stupid sounding babbles.

Sloan releases your hair from their grip and moves their hand to massage your ass. “Sounds so cute when you whine,” they coo breathily.

Your senses all come flooding back to you when you feel the first spurt of their hot cum inside of you. Your tummy flutters with butterflies, your pussy contracts, and you cum with them. Both of you writhe in bed against each other, Sloan’s desperate, near primal pants like music to your ears.

“Fuck,” you groan as you collapse into the bed.

They keep their cock inside of you, shallowly thrusting their cum back in. “Please don’t stop,” they whine. “Please, I-I need more. Please.”

Your whole body burns, your pussy is so sensitive you’re not sure you’d even be able to cum again. “Sloan,” you sigh, looking back at them. 

“Please. Please let me keep using you. Please. You don’t even have to do anything but please let me use this pussy,” they pinch your clit in emphasis. “Please.”

“Well, with begging like that,” you joke.

Sloan wastes no time slamming their cock back inside of you, and though you can hardly feel the harsh slapping motion, you can tell their pace has slowed. You lay there, sweaty and hot and with their cum dripping out and being fucked back in.

Sloan murmurs praises to you while they thrust, their mind half gone from how fucking horny they are. They can see cum dripping down your pussy, down your thighs and it’s so filthy and it’s so hot and all they want is more. They pound into you, chasing that final high they may or may not get, desperately gripping your sensitive skin until there’s marks.

Finally, they cum again, their hot cum gushing until you’re so full it starts to burst from the seams between your pussy and their cock. Sloan watches it leak out in a trance, as if in disbelief that not only did they fuck you, they also just fucked you raw.

The heat has completely faded from their body, and as they pull out from your cunt and watch the cum drip, their cock finally starts to soften. “Are you okay?”

You manage a weak thumbs up from where you lay in the bed.

Just as they go to put on their pants, their cock twitches again, and the heat comes rushing back. Sloan sighs, looking at you guiltily, “think you can do a round 2?”

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