#Putty! Spike

[augment-techs]

I know it’s no Oc,,,, but

🌾🌹

+ Spike Skullovitch

🌾 What would they be like if they were evil. Or if they’re already evil what would they be like as the good guy?

🌹 Do they have any scars? How and when did they get them?

Well, keeping to at least some semblance of the rules, let us go along with Putty!Spike, so we can have some fun~

🌾=

If he were evil, it would be in large part because of either forced indoctrination by Master Xandred messing with his genetic makeup or some part of his clay from Finster corrupting him that came completely out of left field.

I would like to think that the human part of him would not allow him to be completely demonic and cruel as any other demon and monster out in the world. True, he would be able to send down the wrath of gods because of his being probably the most supreme version of a putty that has ever been or would ever be--like, seriously, boy could turn into a monster from the darkest wilds and slaughter a city if goaded into it--but there is just something about having been around the Power so long amongst his family that would make him incredibly wary about engaging with the Rangers for longer than needs must.

Also, he is bound by the form he inhabits, and every monster has some soft, weak spot, somewhere. A cat playing with a mouse before swallowing it can still be poisoned by any pellets the mouse ate filled with cyanide; or drown crossing a river. For Spike, he'd be INCREDIBLY susceptible to fights with a Purple or Blue Ranger. Which means if he did go rogue, his Uncle Bulk or Samurai Ranger Kevin would have to take him out. Which for Kevin would hurt; he did get to know the guy in their teens when he and Lauren were in ice skating and swimming competitions--and also while Spike was spying on the Samurai team for Lauren without walking about in human form. But for Bulk...he would try his best only to hurt the young man as needs must, but it would be tantamount to cutting himself with a scalpel each time.

🌹=

When he was born through an act of the most revolting cruelty inflicted on Skull on the moon, Finster made his disapproval plain by poking the infant with his sharp fingernail until blood was drawn along his left side and Spike made his discomfort known--by which point, Finster got his leg broken basically in half and his face bashed to a bloody pulp for his trouble. When he was not even two weeks old, his grandmother finally decided to pay Skull and the infant a visit where they were recuperating at Angel Grove's Promethea. She already had an incredibly low threshold of empathy and affection for Eugene, so it really shouldn't have come as a surprise that she despised the infant on sight. Since Spike still had a bandage wrapped around his middle from the cut Finster inflicted, Madame Skullovitch could not resist pressing into the bandage until the cut reopened--and then deepened it until she almost grazed into newly formed bones. Right before Grace Sterling sucker punched the bitch and Terona snatched Spike up to stop the bleeding and sooth him as best he could.

At fifteen, there was an out of control teen that came into Angel Grove High to air past grievances with an automatic weapon. While everything and everyone was going into lockdown, there were a couple of freshmen that got caught out in the halls that made easy targets for the shooter's rage--but Spike had gotten a pretty good handle on his shifting abilities. The gun fired one round, but Spike had already gotten between the freshmen and the shooter as a bull moose that took up most of the hallway. He took the one bullet to the right side along the thickest rib, and it hurt like a bitch; but by that point he'd already turned his head to ram his not inconsiderably sized antlers directly into the shooter--which knocked the gun out of hand, the shooter to the floor, and gave Spike the opening to slam his massive hoof down on the asshole's belly. (Fortunately, nobody saw him transform, so after the freshmen ran out of the front doors to get the cops, Spike stomped the shooter once more in the belly, broke their ankle so they couldn't run away, kicked the gun over towards the doors where he could hear feet running towards them, then turned into blue-gold bushtit to fly out into the parking lot and wait for his dads. Of course Billy and Matt were freaking the hell out over the blood that was gushing from his side, but Eugene was mostly just incredibly proud while wrapping his son's ribs so they could go home and take out the bullet.)

When he was eighteen and still keeping his identity confined to various animals to guide and spy on the Samurai rangers in Lauren's stead, they came up against a demon that forced them into the ocean, had them pinned, would have ripped apart their megazord so the lot of them would drown, Spike intervened in the form of a Shishigami-Deidarabotchi mix (very fluid, face without features like a mannequin, branching antlers forming all along his long, fuzzy neck like stalagmites, legs like an upright walking hare, and arms so long ending in sharp points he was both beautiful and terrifying) and held off the demon until Lauren could make her grand entrance in her fox folding zord. The demon managed to tear into both of the scars along his sides, because the bastard fought dirty and mentioned something about "making them symmetrical" so they were deeper than ever, split off into three points at his hips, and made Spike scream even without a proper mouth--but he did not let go until Lauren was on the scene to help the Rangers and kick ass. He had to flee back to Shiba House property as a coyote, then a rabbit, then a tiny corn snake that barely made it under the porch, where Lauren found him bleeding and in agony. She brought him into the kitchen to set him into a large bowl, setting another bowl of milk mixed with her blood off to the side for him to drink, and made a call to Bulk and Kim at their shared dojo/youth center in Panorama City. (If Kevin had been freaking out that his best friend was actually the Shiba Heir and the first Black Samurai Ranger in history, he almost lost his mind when the tiny corn snake transformed into a slightly worse for wear Spike Skullovitch once Bulk showed up with food for the Rangers and clothes for his nephew.)

@skyland2703

[killdaisie]

my spike action figure came :' )

[lordkingsmith]

They’re putties. Rita successfully made an evil putty team twice. Mighty Morphin Mutant Rangers and Evil Mighty Morphin Power Rangers.

Imagine if these MMMR showed up to help in the grid battle-that would have gotten some looks lol

@augment-techs

[morninkim]

Rise of the Mighty Morphin Power Rangers - Z-Putties

After recruiting former Count Dregon associates in Rito, Mordant and Scorpina, Zedd has Dr. Finster conduct further research into Putty Patroller creation, utilizing the Dark Specter's crystal shard energy with molten rock to create a new variant of Putty: the Z-Putty.

Much stronger and able to withstand the strongest attacks from a Power Ranger, the Z-Putties prove to be a valuable asset to Zedd's growing forces.

[larcenywrites]

My Little Animal

Logan Howlett x F!Reader

Warnings: 18+ NSFW | rough sex | unprotected p in v | lots of foreplay! | biting (with tongue and fangs!) | collaring (Logan) | growling | smelling??? | calling Logan an animal (affectionately!!) | feral Logan??? | oral (F receiving) | Not really Dom!Reader but not exactly Dom!Logan either? | maybe the real Dom in this fic is just the love we made along the way :) | I guess I ended up using the taller hugh jackman version of wolverine for this sorry short king Logan 😔 | no real plot just lots of porn with an intro | some HCS for collaring here

Word count: ~2,400

A late night was normal around here, and a late night waiting up for Logan was hardly newsworthy. Neither were the heavier-than-usual drag of boots outside the door, nor the irritated huff after he closed the door a little too carefully.

Your eyes are drawn from the book in your lap to the larger man sitting on the end of the bed, back to you. Remaining silent, you watch him, his hand scratching through his beard and through the hair on the back of his neck. His tension is obvious in his movements, and more obvious in the tight muscles of his back as he pulls his white tank over his head, tossing it aside with a huff.

"Tough day?" You finally break the silence, trying not to let your tone hint at the longing in your eyes as you ogle.

"Always," he only replies gruffly, making you huff with an irritated amusement. You continue to eye him from your spot, deciding not to scold him this time for wearing his suit's yellow and blue pants on the bed. This time.

"I think you're just being dramatic," you softly tease, placing your book on the bedside table. With a disgruntled grunt of disagreement, Logan bends to work on getting his boots off, bare shoulders just inviting you to touch them. Shrugging the covers from your lap, you shuffle across the mattress to his seated form, eager to slide your palms over his heated skin. There's no reaction even when you nuzzle into his neck, the only sounds being the thump of boots being tossed aside and the rustling of fabric as he removes his pants. And those black boxer briefs didn't leave much to the imagination when he kicked the yellow and blue fabric aside, his flaccid bulge moving with his thigh.

You knew he could pick up your spike in arousal at the sight, and you could feel the elevation of his heartbeat when you hooked your arms under his to rest your hands on his chest. It was only when he felt your tongue on the shell of his ear that he finally reacted, a low growl vibrating through your hands and chest where you pressed against him.

That was really all you needed to know.

You scoffed and rolled your eyes, pulling away from his tense form. Instead, you roughly thread your fingers through his hair, scratching his scalp and pulling more low rumbles from his chest. Like a grumpy ball of putty in your hands, he lets you push his head down, chin to chest. Just another little push, and he lowered himself, kneeling at the foot of the bed. He sighs heavily when you steal your touch from his hair, but it's far from one of relief. His cheek tilts your way as you shuffle over the sheets again, listening as you move back to the nightstand.

You can't hide anything from him. He knows which drawer you open. He knows what's in it. He knows what it means. Yet he still doesn't move when your hand pets over his neck. You could practically feel him bristling with excitement. For being so tense and stubborn, he always allows you to bind his neck with the collar. You wrap the brown nylon fabric around his throat with care, its gunmetal gray fastens jingling as you fix the buckle, keeping it loose just the way he likes it.

Wrapping a few fingers around the now-fitted collar, you carefully tug it up towards you, keeping his head down while your nails scratch over his scalp. Another soft growl makes you smile. Stepping off the bed next to his kneeling form, you drag his collar with you, the rough fabric sliding over his skin as you stand in front of him. You continue your petting, letting him adjust to his new headspace until he finally leans further into your grasp, nuzzling against your bare thigh and resting his cheek against your skin with a growly sigh.

"There's my little animal," you coo, tightening your grip on his hair and abruptly tugging the collar up, making him face up at you, your knuckles against his jaw. Logan's mouth parts in a silent moan, lip curled in a silent snarl. He narrowly eyes you through his lashes as your thumb pushes his bottom lip down and leans obediently into the rough petting on the side of his head. The pad of your thumb presses into the point of his fang and is met with his eager tongue, languidly lapping and swirling over the digit.

You take your hand from his hair to trace fingers over his lips, watching him close his eyes in ecstasy as he laps at your other fingers. Tongue and lips press against your palm in a sort of kiss before fangs gently bite into the soft flesh between your thumb and finger. You know they're just itching to get that tension out, and what better way than guiding that bite down to your thigh. He eagerly latches on, exploring the skin of your thigh with scraping fangs and long licks while bringing his hands to hold the backs of your thighs in a bruising grip.

You can't help but finally moan at his feral-ish nature, holding onto the back of his collar while threading through the thick curls on the back of his neck, encouraging more of those sharp nibbles and wet trails drifting closer to the inside of your thigh. He can't help but taste the softer skin beneath his tongue several times before sinking his teeth in just a bit harder, growling low in response to your moan.

Your grip on his hair tightens in surprise as he noses against your panty-covered clit, cheeks feeling flushed at the sound of him inhaling the scent of your arousal straight from the source. Fangs press ever-so-gently into your mound as his tongue finally meets your sensitive bud, swirling over the fabric and massaging deeply the more the mix of his saliva and your slick dampened the thin material that hardly kept you separated.

You desperately clench around nothing when he pulls back, teeth bringing your panties with him as his fingers tightly grip around the band and impatiently tear them from your legs with ease. There's no time to think about scolding him before your knee is forced onto his shoulder, falling into an awkward angle against him as his lips devour you again.

"Oh fuck, Logan," you sigh, only able to claw at his shoulders while firm hands pull you into him. His hot breath fans over your sensitive flesh as he practically pants, cleaning up the arousal pooled at your core and his nose bumping against your clit. The only noises in the room are your mixed panting and the crude lapping sounds from between your legs, supplemented by the low, warning growls every time the prickle of his beard causes you to twitch away. The same prickling friction that drags through your folds as his tongue meets your clit again, leaving your legs trembling in his grasp with every swipe. He knows you're close-- he can smell it, hear it in your whimperish panting, feel it in the way you try to grind on his tongue. It only spurs him on, tilting his head against your thigh as if to settle in while he pushes you closer to the edge.

It isn't long before your nails dig into his hair and pull him closer, and your legs awkwardly tensing and closing against him as you finally come on his tongue. He laps deeply at your over-sensitive bud several more times to ride you through it before attacking your entrance again, drinking your essence like a starved animal. Every brush of his beard and nuzzle against your clit becomes far too much to keep handling as he continues, but there's no escape from his grip on you. Wrapping your hand around the collar, you try to tug him away, only met with a deep rumble that borders between a growl and a moan, hot breath fanning over your core again. He was as stubborn as he was greedy, knowing well that he was far too strong for you to pull him away, especially from between your legs. Maybe he even enjoyed the rough material of his collar threatening to choke him.

"Logan, please," you plead breathily, thumbs hooked around the collar. As if to make a point, he deeply laps at you several more times before turning to sink his fangs into your thigh in aggravated obedience with a low growl that gently rumbles against your skin. He keeps his teeth in your leg even while you lower your knee from his shoulder and holds onto you while you recover for the moment. But only for a moment.

The sharp prick of fangs finally leaves your thigh, only for them to brush across your tummy with a wet lick as he nuzzles under your shirt. Your fingers brush over the tense hands that grip your thighs, feeling those claws flex beneath his skin, naturally responding to their owner's pent-up emotion and energy in the only way they ever knew how. He's obviously still unsatisfied, raging to let loose. You're jolted from that thought as he bites into the soft side of your waist, licking over his bite in a soothing way. Helping him out, you slip your shirt over your head, tossing it aside like every other piece of clothing. Without a word, he gets to his feet, taking it as his cue to lick his way between your breasts and into the crook of your neck.

He roughly pulls your hips flush to his, his chest practically heaving from the deep inhale he takes from where he stays buried in your neck. He's never been one for subtleties, especially not when those hips start to hungrily rut into yours, and his hard-on, hardly hidden in his briefs, is straining for attention. Grinding with him, you hook your thumb beneath the burlap brown band as your fingers tangle through the dark locks of hair on the back of his neck.

"You're not very good at this taming thing," he finally breaks his silence with a cocky grumble, pressing his lips to your cheek. At his comment, your hand wraps around the front of his collar again, knuckles to his throat.

"Good thing I don't want to tame you," you softly sass back, turning to meet his lips and tracing them with your tongue. He shows off his fangs with a low growl, grip tightening on your thighs before he roughly hoists you up to wrap around his waist. It's only seconds for him to spin around and plant your back on the bed, his much heavier form coming down with you, wasting no time to ravish your throat with sloppy kisses and lovebites.

You can only tilt your head back and moan softly to the ceiling, much to his purr of approval as he continues his assault, even while awkwardly shuffling between your legs to rid his too-tight boxers. You know he's finally done it when the heat of his cock presses at your entrance and a hand pushes a thigh aside to give him more room to work with. Despite still being soaked from your romp just minutes ago, he's still not the easiest fit when he pushes into you, mirroring you with lips parted in a silent moan and eyes screwed shut. Even with the sting of your nails in his bicep, he keeps sinking into you, giving you no time to adjust to the pleasurable burn of him filling you to the brim.

Cock sitting heavy against your cervix, Logan grinds you into the mattress, nestling back into your neck tongue first. Muscular arms cage your legs against his hips and his fists wrap into the sheets as he instantly ruts into you like an animal in heat. Once again, the only sounds filling the room are whimperish moans and heavy panting being outshined by the lewdness of how wet each thrust of his cock and each slap of his balls sounds against your soaked heat.

Hot breath fans over your skin with a low rumble when you pull at his hair, the growl vibrating from his chest through yours and only adding to the growing tension in your core. He lifts himself when you tense around him, bowed up above you as if in concentration and chest heaving with his wild panting. You look up at him through your lashes, a few dark strands hanging over his forehead and loose collar hanging over his collarbones. The sight alone could send you close to the edge, already throbbing around him, but you needed him close again.

Dark eyes flicker to you at the feel of your hand on his chest, playing through the thick body hair there before wrapping around the burlap brown band hanging from his throat. He obediently lets you pull him down with the little strength you have left, his own hips faltering as you pull his face into your chest. He moans low, tongue lolling against your skin as he picks up the pace again, hips stiff and fists tight around the sheets. He's just as close as you are, but his deep and well-aimed thrusts are determined to get you there first.

He can smell it, hear the soft whines from your chest and feel your legs squirm under his arms, and groans deeply at how tightly you clench around his cock and hold his face to your chest as you come around him. His steady pace finally slows, stilling as deep as he can within you and cumming with a low growl. He keeps you caged and pressed into the mattress, panting hotly against you. Your fingers gently play with his hair while you come down, other hand still holding onto the collar while he gently nuzzles and rubs his face between your breasts, as if you didn't already smell like every part of him.

After several moments, he finally lifts himself from you, pulling out from your messy core and wasting no time going down on you, savoring the mixed scents of your essences and greedily cleaning you up. With a gasped-out moan, you tug desperately at his hair, only being answered with that possessive growl that means he isn't letting you go anytime soon.

[emiphemeral]

like sexy dynamite — a.donaldson

pairings; 2019 art donaldson x fem!reader

warnings; 18+ smut, mean!art, dom!art, sub!reader, semi-public sex, p in v

a/n; twas feeling festive... everyone thank @martiansodas-blog for convincing me to write this

you were, by some peoples standards, art donaldson's "controversially young" girlfriend. of course, you didn't find it controversial at all. clearly neither did he, since he was the one who approached you first anyway. the main perk of having a wealthy older boyfriend however, was access to his big beautiful house.

art had asked you to move in with him months prior, so it wasn't difficult to get him to throw a fourth of july party. it wasn't difficult to get anything with art, not when it's you. you simply had to bat your eyes and he would melt.

so there you were, sipping on some probably spiked punch and giggling with a few friends. trashy pop music played over a speaker, provided by some shitty college dj you had hired. it wasn't meant to be a good party, it was meant to be a fun party.

you and your friends names get called from across the room;

"guys, come on, they're setting off fireworks soon!"

your group starts to eagerly head to the backyard, until a grip on your arm stops you.

"hey baby. mind if i steal you for a minute?" art mutters in your ear.

he begins to pull you away before you can respond, barely having time to mouth 'ill be there soon' before you get dragged around the corner. he brings you to a stop in the luckily empty kitchen.

"are you oka-"

art interrupts you with a sloppy and desperate kiss, hands tightly gripping your waist.

"do you have any idea what you've been doing to me all night? running around in that whoreish dress?" he growls pressing you against the countertop.

"shit- art- someone could see-" you pant as he mouths at your neck.

"everyone's out watching the fireworks. like we would be, if you weren't such a fucking tease."

you gasp as art flips you around, pressing your torso into the cold marble countertop. he reaches under your dress, lightly rubbing your soaking wet cunt.

"this is what you wanted, isn't it? for me to bend you over where anyone could see? so wet over the thought of being seen as what you are, a slut."

you whimper as the blonde pushes your dress up, just enough for him to get a good look at your pussy. he curses under his breath at the sight, unzipping his pants and pulling out his already leaking cock as fast as possible.

he rubs his tip through your folds for just a moment before slamming into you. you let out a loud moan, muffled by his hand clamping over your mouth.

"c'mon baby, wouldn't want to ruin their party with your trampiness, would you?" art grunts, not letting up for a second.

the hand thats not covering your mouth is on your waist, holding you firmly against the countertop. your eyes roll back into your head as he hits the perfect spot inside of you, drooling like a mutt all over him. you can't help but let out pathetic whimpers and whines, so overwhelmed that you couldn't keep your mouth shut.

as if it was planned, the fireworks go off. its a loud show, just loud enough that art can take his hand off your face. he uses his now free hand to reach in between the two of you, rubbing fast circles onto your clit.

without support from art, your face slumps against the cool marble. you're putty in his arms, him fucking you so good you can't even think. with a particularly rough snap of his hips, you come undone, cunt spilling all over his cock.

"fuck- almost there baby- you can take it like the whore you are-"

art's rambles have practically turned mindless, now only chasing his own orgasm. he releases his hot load into you when you turn to face him, looking up at him through your eyelashes. like a hypocrite, he lets out his own vulgar groan as he finishes.

"fuck.." art mutters pulling out and smoothing your dress back down.

"go on. see your friends, knowing you're dripping with my cum", he grins cockily, giving your ass a playful slap. you push off the counter to walk outside, but your legs immediately give out.

"oops." art shrugs, with the most unapologetic smirk known to man.

[nova-amor]

"shh, what did i say, cariño?" miguel cooed, soft lips brushing against the outer shell of your ear. his scent was overwhelming, borderline nauseating with the way it invaded your nostrils. yet, you were addicted to it. "we made a promise, right? you remember our agreement?"

and, you did. before miguel had whisked you away into a nearby closet, before he had truly given into your advances— he had you promise that you would be quiet, that not even a peep would leave those pretty little lips. or, he wouldn't hesitate to stop.

you nodded your head, big eyes brimming with tears as you pressed your lips together, halting any further sound from escaping. miguel chuckled, caressing the skin of your thighs, his body sandwiching yours between him and a wall.

his hips slowly retracting from yours before diving right back into your wet heat. his thrusts were slow, deep, carving the curve, width, and length of his cock into your squishy walls.

"that's my good girl," miguel purred, the white glimmer of his sharp canines shining even in the darkness of the storage closet. your suit had been torn to shreds, ruined and thrown to the floor in the heat of the moment. your body exposed and vulnerable for him. just the way he liked it. "always keepin' her promises— always bein' good for me."

the wet squelching of his cock stretching you out echoed off the walls, your adrenaline spiked as you fought the urges to moan, to cry, to proclaim your undying love for the man before you. miguel's cock nudged you in all the right places, your eyes crossing and back arching as it rubbed against the sensitive gooey spot inside you.

one of miguel's hand settled over your lips, covering your lower face as the knot inside you unraveled. finally reaching the sweet peak you had been so desperately craving. acknowledging his plan, your moans and mewls spilled into his hand like putty, muffled and wetting the skin of his palm.

"cum for me, nena— cream all over my cock— milk me, baby—" he guided you, hips continuing to rut into you. your walls spasmed around him, a white ring of thick cream forming around the base of his shaft, drooling down to his balls. "this is what you wanted, right? wanted to use my cock to get off? well, it's my turn— and, you better keep your promise."

[leaentries]

headcanons | luke hughes

SUMMARY: boyfriend!luke

WARNINGS: not proofread

more boyfriend!player headcanons

✮. he’s a shy lover! luke has a hard time expressing his emotions sometimes, so he often finds himself shying away or hiding his face into the crook of your neck while the two of you have a heart to heart moment. he’ll turn all red a blushy the second you start loving all up on him, especially when you tell him how amazing he is.

✮. PLAYING WITH HIS HAIR!! luke turns to absolute putty the second your fingers come into contact with his curls. like you could just be chillin on the couch and your hands will somehow find the back of his head. no joke, he will literally fall sideways into your lap so you can have a better reach. 9 out of 10 times he will most likely fall asleep.

✮. a huge foodie. loves loves loves to eat with you. we are all aware that the team calls him rusty because he’s always eating. will always have your favorite snacks in his bag so you’re never hungry. is always concerned about whether you’re eating enough or drinking enough. will take it upon himself to be with you for at least one meal of the day. yes, he does have dinner dates with you over facetime during roadies.

✮. along with this, he loves to facetime you! whenever possible, if he’s isn’t with you that is, he wants to be able to see your pretty face and yap to you about the most random things. whether it’s about your toast getting burnt or his charger breaking, you’ll talk about it.

✮. always listens to you intently. luke is the type of guy who will always make eye contact with you while you’re talking and will actively engage with you. he wants to make sure you know he’s listening and cares about what you’re saying. will bend down to your height and lean his ear in closer if you’re on the quieter side.

✮. leaves his clothes at your place on “accident.” new-flash, it’s never on accident. if luke stays at your apartment for more than a few hours there is a 90% chance he’s gonna end up leaving a hoodie or pair of sweats behind. you’ll end up getting a “i’m coming back over” text from him an hour after he left. he does this for two reasons: 1. he makes sure to give himself a legit excuse to come back and see you 2. he knows you’ll probably end up stealing said clothing item and wearing it.

✮. continuing from the last point, luke melts every time you wear something of his or something with his name on it. a little piece inside of him jumps for joy every time he sees you wearing one of his hoodies or showing up to games in his jersey. it helps ease the bit of him that gets insecure sometimes. it’s a way of telling the world that your his girl.

✮. he’s a puppy. period. he follows you around the apartment 24/7 if you’re together. never wants to leave your side unless he absolutely has to. will always pull your body into his in public so his mind is at ease. when his anxiety or worries spike, he is rushing to find or call you. you are his comfort blanket.

✮. let’s you pick out his outfits. luke had a tendency to have questionable style from time to time, so you took the liberty of making sure he is at least matching colors. you are tired. he does not like to listen, but will inevitably always wear what you tell him to.

✮. big napper/snuggler. will cocoon the both of you in blankets till you can barely move. has an alarm on his phone everyday to remind the both of you to take a nap together. doesn’t give you an option about it either. if you don’t feel like napping with him before a game, he will whine and pester you claiming that “it’s your fault if we lose” or “you’re my good luck charm, pretty girl. you have to nap with me or i won’t play good.”

✮. someone please find me a luke hughes

[kingofthe-egirls]

SILLY IS THE NEW SEXY: GEAR 5 LUFFY x Y/N

(cw: sex, flirting, squirting, creampie, silliness)

(an: i can't stop writing about gear 5 luffy)

Songs: "Monkey and Bear" by Joanna Newsom

words: 2.1k

You have curves like the sea, and as soon as Luffy lays eyes on you, he knows you’re different.

You ooze sex.

It clings to you like a second skin, as if sex appeal is a boa constrictor draped around your neck. Glittering and emerald, luxurious and reptilian, with striking ferocity in every touch.

He can’t keep his eyes off you.

“Captain,” you say smoothly one night, enjoying drinks in the firelight, “You’re staring again.”

Luffy freezes, and then giggles sheepishly with his hand behind his head. “Shishishi, sorry,” he says, “M’not tryna be rude.”

“What are you trying to do?” You ask curiously, tipping your champagne back from its crystal flute. It tastes like sour cherries.

“I dunno,” he says plainly, and leans back on his hands. His legs are splayed out in front of him, sitting on the wood of the deck. He knocks his feet together. “I like looking at you, I guess.”

You stiffen, flattered at his words, before you take another sip. Stars flutter overhead. Blue velvet stretches across the sky, and the silver moon is only half-full.

“Hmm,” you tilt your head, pleased, “I like looking at you, too.”

He beams at that, and you both gaze at each other steadily. The waves crash and echo around the softly creaking ship, lullabies all around you. You let your gaze rake over him, boyish in form with muscular limbs and a shining face. Black hair under his straw hat, sticking out in spikes. You hum, appreciative.

“I like it a lot, in fact.”

You flush at your boldness, but only slightly. You’re no stranger to flirtation, and this is getting fun.

Luffy cocks his head. “Whatcha like about it?”

You detail the planes of his body with your eyes, gray and hazy in the moonlight. You take another sip of fizzy, liquid gold.

“Your face,” you say first, honestly, “It always makes me happy. Especially when you smile,” you cup your own cheek in one hand. He crinkles his nose, pleased, and looks off to the side. The silent question hangs on his lips: What else?

“Your shoulders are next,” you let your eyes fall over his muscles like a featherlight touch. “Your arms, your strength. It’s really impressive. I like when you wear red,” you move to sit on your knees, lowering onto the ground from where you’d been perched in a deck chair. Luffy scoots closer to you, too. He holds his forearm in front of you, and flexes. His wide hand is clenched in a loose fist. You let your fingers drift over swollen knuckles.

“Your hands,” you say softly, heat blooming in your gut. “You have really gorgeous hands,” you confess, and turn away before you can embarrass yourself further. You never knew the flirtation would get this far, with him sitting so close to you he’s radiating heat like the sun. You flick a lock of hair over your shoulder, and bump slightly into him. You clear your throat, “What about me?”

“Your curves! I like the way they look like waves,” he drags a broad hand across your waist, and pinches at the fat of your belly. “I like the way this rolls over,” he says, voice low, “I like the way your thighs shake as you walk. I like your ass,” he says the crass compliment like it’s nothing, like his touch isn’t burning hot lava into you. “I like the way you smell.”

“What do I smell like?” You breathe, already too far gone to pretend any further. You’re putty in his rubber hands.

He screws up his nose in thought. “Like butter? Or maybe…sea salt?” He licks his lips, “It smells tasty.”

“You smell good, too,” you blush, turning away. He knocks his shoulder into yours. You scoot closer, so your legs are touching. He hooks an ankle over yours. “Like tea.”

“Good tea?” He asks, and you nod. Tentatively, you lean your head onto his shoulder. He hesitates, breath held, but then relaxes into your touch quite naturally. He rests his head on top of yours, fluffy hair tickling your cheek.

“Very good tea,” you affirm. Your body is electrified, never having been this close to your captain before. “Do you like girls?” You ask abruptly, not wanting to tread water for any longer. You need to breathe.

“Mhmm,” he says, nodding against the top of your head. “Lotta people think I don’t, but I do.” He twines his fingers around yours, bringing them to rest on his lap. “D’you like boys?”

“Too much,” you chuckle, and sit up from him again. “Do you like me?” You gaze at him truthfully, letting your want and desire seep through into your skin. Your captain is clueless, but not that clueless. He regards you with a princely stare.

“Too much,” he echoes, and leans forward to kiss you.

****

Now, you’re suspended in midair, back pressed against the cabin wall, while Luffy fucks you senseless.

He’d brought you to his cabin, pressing your back against his door. He'd reached behind your supple hips to turn the deadbolt into its lock.

“Love ya, kitty,” he breathes into your shoulder, before scraping his teeth along your sensitive skin. “Love how ya move around like no one’s watching. As if anyone could ignore those fuckin’ curves.”

He grips hard at your ass, his other arm supporting your lower back. Your shoulder blades scrape against the cabin wall. He tastes like sea salt, and milk. You stick your tongue down his throat.

“Mmph,” Luffy moans into your throat, languid thrusts rocking you gently. He reaches down to thumb at your clit between you.

“So good, baby,” you croon, raking your fingers through the soft hair at the base of his neck. He flickers gold for a second, white hair foaming at the ends of his raven strands. “Luffy?” You ask, watching his eyes swirl rosy. He giggles, grin wide, as he speeds up inside you. Your stomach bulges with his cock, and he gasps in mad abandon.

“Look at that…,” he whispers, feeling the head of his cock through your abdomen. Your stomach is not flat by any means (quite the opposite), but that doesn’t matter for Monkey D. Luffy. If he wants to see his cock, he’s gonna see his fucking cock.

“Luffy!!” Gasping for breath, watching his dick thrust in and out of you like you’re both made of rubber. Little hearts sprint in circles around his face, little ducklings following suit. He giggles, and you do, too.

Your eyes haze over into gold, with pink flecks of light bouncing around your tits. “Fuck—,” you gasp, watching the now curly-haired Luffy grit his teeth and fuck you hard. He lifts you off the wall, bucking his hips up into your cunt from below. The sounds of his balls slamming against your ass reverberates through the room, before his eyes bug out of his head like cartoon hearts. He’s slacked-jawed, tongue hanging out of his mouth as a wolf whistle sounds from somewhere off to the side.

“Aaaahhhh, kitty, ya feel so—oh!—goood!!!” He wails with his eyes squeezed shut. His muscular abs clench as he pistons his hips up into you. His cock is huge now, cartoonishly big as he pummels up into your cunt. It slaps and gushes, your clit aching, as Luffy tightens his hold around you. He leans down to bury his face in your tits, sucking hard on your sensitive nipples. He rolls his tongue around them, before elongating the muscle to wrap around your tit like a slimy tentacle. The tip flicks at your nipple.

Electricity bolts through you, zinging up your spine and down to your toes. Steam is curling around your face, presumably pouring out of your own ears. Luffy is giggling, manic, before leaning backward to careen you both into the bed. He jackhammers up into you, sitting now with you on his lap. His long tongue moves around your tit, sucking and licking like an animated restraint. His limbs are rubber wrapped around you now, sparks flying from where your bodies connect. His cock is thrusting sloppily against your cervix, which usually hurts but with him slams stars into your eyes. Your body is as elastic as he is, apparently.

Your fingers curl into his hair. “Luuuffyyyy,” you groan.

“Haahahaha!!!” He cackles, slurping his tongue back into his mouth. He slaps your other tit with a smack that makes a sound like a spring.

He leans down to suck your other nipple, not wanting his baby to feel uneven. His lips wrap around your bud, soft and chapped as he plays you with his tongue. Slow, sensual licks all over your hardened bud send shivers coursing through you. Luffy giggles, before ramming you down hard onto his aching cock. His lips stay tightly glued to your nip, so it makes your tit bounce up and down like a fucking porno. Luffy crosses his eyes up in pleasure.

Sex with new Luffy is freaky as fuck.

But (surprisingly?) his silliness has in no way deterred you from your own sparkling orgasm.

“S’fun, isn’t it?” He asks as he pops off your overstimmed nipple. You nod, vigorously. You push him forward onto his back, so that you can ride him at your own haphazard pace. You sink down further onto his cock, letting him hit it from below. Your elbows are on either side of his manic head. Your hips rocket repeatedly down into his, both of you grunting with every thrust.

Steamy hearts explode in front of your eyes.

"So fucking fun," you say, searing his grin into your senses for later. You're gonna be thinking about this hookup for ages.

Your pussy clenches at the thought, of maybe not having this be a one time experience, as Luffy moans. He stutters, grabbing your hips in searing hands.

Captain Luffy whines, head thrown back in sheer joy. His cock is bullying your walls, smaller now but no less thick. He brushes up against your g-spot, over and over again. It feels like something is going to spring out of you at any minute. You squeeze your eyes shut, feeling the impending release of your shaky orgasm. A wolf whistle sounds off again, steam clouding the room. You gasp, as you cum.

“Luffy!!” You squeal, heat overtaking you as you shiver in ecstasy. “Luuffy, fuuuuck….,” you drawl out, dragging your hands over his sculpted chest. He’s heaving in ragged breaths, scarlet blushed formed on his squishy cheeks.

“Squirt for me,” he commands, thumbing at your clit in rough circles. “Cmon, baby, I know ya can do it.”

He presses down hard against your lower abdomen, twitching his cock up inside you as you ride him. You bounce your way to orgasm, screaming and crying for the whole ship to hear. Somewhere deep in your core, you squirt onto his lower abdomen. Luffy laughs, giddy.

“S’coming, baby,” he warns you, eyes dark, as his thrusts grow sloppy. He slams his hips up into you, cock thrusting against your sweetest spots.

So deep--!

“Yeeesss,” you breathe, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. You bury your face in moonlight hair.

“Ganna—,” he stutters, hips shuddering as he cums inside you with a violent thrust.

His eyes cross in pleasure as he spills his seed inside you.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!”

Luffy gasps, eyes squeezing shut as a wave of orgasmic, cosmic energy flows through him. He’s never had sex like this, before. He’s never had you, before. No way he’s letting you slip away, now.

“Say you’re mine, baby,” he says, sweating and panting as you both come down. His fingers trail along your hipbones. “I wanna be yours."

He's panting, his voice raspy and hoarse.

His hair is dark, now.

You watch as the last shreds of cartoon hearts fade out of existence around you. The steam has cleared up, too. And no more whistles sound. You snicker, "Sex is so fun, with you."

"Shishishi," he grins. And then, "Say you're mine, baby? Pleeaseee?" He whines up at you, and you snort.

"Sure thing, captain," you slide off of him, and he groans, "I'm all yours."

"Seriously," he pouts, poking your inner thigh. Your leg twitches, still spasming from the aftershocks. "Sex isn't usually this fun."

"Even after Gear 5?"

He smirks, "Steam was new. But," he looks up at you, wide-eyed and serious, "I really do wantcha, y/n."

You still, regarding him down the length of your nose. Your chest is fluttering, crazy butterflies going off in your stomach. "Sex is one thing," you allow, scared, "But relationships are a whole other thing. Seriously means you're serious with me. S'okay?"

Luffy nods. His grip tightens around your hips, as he sits up. "Seriously," he says, hand running over your thighs, "Silly, maybe. But serious." His face darkens, "And I don't wanna play games with you."

You swallow, and nod.

"Me neither."

****

[noirflms]

PET NAMES — haikyuu boys

what pet names they call you. or the dear names they use to have your heart racing.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ SAWAMURA DAICHI !

he calls you ‘love’ and in the most softest and sickly sweet voice possible. the word sounds like the call of a siren to you, it gives you butterflies. the name has you giggling and so in love and gosh, he adores that he does that to you. it’s always — how’s my love? . i’m home, my love . thank you so much for everything, love . and it is only him that whispers it to you in the most ugliest and baddest of days that might come in your life. it is only him that ever would call you ‘love.’

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ IWAIZUMI HAJIME !

babe/idiot/sunshine — these are the names he calls you around the house. babe is for when he is annoyed with you, idiot is when he finds the most stupidest things you do adorable and sunshine is when he kisses your huge stupid smile and you giggle music to his ears and he whispers it in your ears. his voice will always be reverberating around the house — babe, not now . this is the most dumbest thing, idiot . i love you, sunshine . and he makes you feel like you own the world for he brings it to your feet.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ TENDOU SATORI !

he often calls you ‘chéri’ but on days he always whispers the name ‘sweetheart’ to you. whenever he is excited he calls you ‘chéri’ his voice enthusiastic and warm, eyes bright and the name would roll of his tongue just like the sweet chocolate he makes. the ‘sweetheart’ is reserved in the bounds of home, where he finally unfolds, tired and soft, eyes lidded with sleep, he whisper it in your ear. i think you’d absolutely love this flavour, mon chéri! . you just know how to make my day , sweetheart . and it has you all putty in love as you pepper kisses all over his face, too in love with him.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ BOKUTO KOUTARO !

the whole world knows what he calls you. it is either ‘sunflower’ / ‘my star’ and at times it is ‘pretty girl/boy’. he screams these names to the world and it would have you laughing to your hearts content when he calls you you as he spikes the ball – this is for you, my star . or when he is too excited about something – isn’t this beautiful, sunflower? . the names have you becoming lovesick, heart only racing for him. but there are days which are gentle – thanks for being mine, pretty girl/boy . and bokuto wonders of you’d ever know how lucky he is to have you.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ SUNA RINTAROU !

with a smirk on his face, and eyes like the fox, he calls you these names with the most sultry and velvety voice. ‘princess/prince’ , ‘darling’ – a saccharine smile on his face as he speaks these with ease, calling to you like some emperor. what’s my princess/prince doing? . gosh, darling, i hope you know what you do to me . sometimes it is the mix of the two together – where’s my darling princess/prince going? . and you wonder if he knows of the effect he has you. where you go weak in the knees as you hear his voice.

writing for them makes me so alsbekdnkdndod i love these boys so so much 😭😭😭

© noirflms twenty twenty four ─── all rights reserved . plagiarism is a crime . do not copy . love to everyone <3

[augment-techs]

Commissioned from the often sited and thoroughly CRUSHING IT, @felonius-glitch; we have here a FANTABULOUS set of chibis for the Matt/Skull/Billy poly in a moment of co-parenting tiny baby Spike~

Because I love their art and just want to marinate in the moment, we all get to see their process from sketch, to lines, to finished. They're all awesome, but I defy anyone to say that they don't all have different advantages. Both for individual characters and how the style changes from one to another.

This is gonna go so well with my one-shot for them, mark my words.

[ladydelena]

Tamlin: N-SFW Alphabet

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Doting. Teasing. Lazily caressing your abdomen. Stroking your hair, giving you time to breathe but not fully come down from a high before he’s taunting you with trailed kisses, stealing your breath with his touch and intimate words… he knows what he's doing. When you're finally spent, he takes the time to make sure you're clean and comfortable before drifting off to sleep together.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Tam is proud of his overall physique and he likes to keep his body well honed. It’s an instrument of war and pleasure, and he’s good at both. A single body part though? His hands. He likes his skills with his sword, fiddle, and you, and his hands have mastered them all. 

On you? Your curves. The softness of your body, the plush of your arms, your breasts, your belly, hips, and thighs, he melts internally at the sight of you and he always wants to hold you and be held by you because of it. Now a single thing? It has to be your cute face and cheeks. The way they dimple a bit unevenly when you smile, and flush when you get cold easily, or get flustered… 

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

No apprehension, no shame, you both end up a mess when you share in each other. You’re filled with him, all you can taste is each other, you’re both panting hot messes. Noone knows what happened but it was great. 100/10. Would do it again.

Also, see below in dirty secret.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

It’s not dirty, but also not common knowledge, Tam really doesn’t have too many sexual barriers, ever more so than normal fae. Not only is he open to any gender, he’s not closed off from receiving any pleasure as well. He likes knowing how to please in return so he’s shifted into different genders and species and explored everything there is to explore and he knows how to provide. 

He likes when you play with him in his beastie body too. You like when beastie Tam finishes all over you.

I have no shame.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Extremely experienced. And not just in the number of partners, but in being able to learn what they like and put it to good use. It's not just physical, it’s mental and emotional experience too.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

I want to say good old traditional missionary because I have a feeling he likes relentlessly driving into you while still being able to look deep into your soul… he’s kind of intense like that, buuuuut-

Doggy. Standing, kneeling, bent over the table, let me just say he shows his affection and love for you all the time, but in this? He really, reallllllyyyy loves claiming you, breeding you, making you his, just absolutely burying himself in you.

(And you like taking it like the submissive breedable good pet that you are…)

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

In general he's not goofy, but a lot of the time he’s a bit rakish and mischievous with how he teases you. He knows how to make you a whimpering mess and it gives him a great big, shit-eatting-grin to see how well he can make you putty in his hands. The Bastard. Love him though. 

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He keeps it trimmed down there, nothing too neat or too crazy, but the rest of him? Well he’s a little furry beast after all. The male has soft pillowy chest hair, arm hair, and a little happy trail that is slightly darker than the sun-kissed blonde the rest of the world sees. As I seem to recall, he's rather fond of you taking a trip down that very trail… the path less traveled, I suppose, though you frequent it often, I’m sure.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

How do I say this… Tamlin has a certain way of always spiking a bit of adrenaline in you. He has the butterflies in your stomach going wild with anticipation. In the morning before the sun fully rises, at night when the bed beacons to both of you, in the moonlit courtyard or glowing yellow fields of his court, he makes it feel like you are newly together with his desire for you. He has beastly tendencies that make you shudder with anticipation but at the same time he is so gentle with his touches and kisses, so loving with his words , and he's not scared of intimacy.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He’s not shy about his sexual appetite but once he has a partner he loves, he doesn't really need solo time that often. He has a fairly active sex life with you and had no shortage of lovers before. That being said, if you're tired or not in the mood and he is, he’s not pressuring you. Once he makes sure you're attended to and well taken care of he doesn't mind taking care of his needs and doesn't make you feel guilty about it at all.  

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Ho boy. Our beastly princely High Lord. Tamlin was not written for the modest mind. The Calanmai firenight fae orgy doesn't begin to cover what he's capable of or into. And while he doesn’t mind an audience, I’d say that Tamlin’s insatiable appetite is laser focused on you. He's not bound by human morals or constructs. Hell, he's not even bound by the physical limitations of his (well-endowed) male body. He thoroughly enjoys being a pleasure dom- and that coupled with his beastly aura, his endless fae stamina, and the unlimited forms he can take as a shapeshifter? Ho boy. He can match your freak. Dare I say surpass what you thought possible as well.

Additional thought here- he likes the fluidity of his shifting. I think he might be a bit restrained at first with a partner, but when comfortable, he sort of exists somewhere between fae and beast. His senses are heightened, his pleasure and need to breed and please you in return is more primal. He likes biting and nipping, he likes running his claws down you and mixing aches with pleasure.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Though your sleeping chambers see the most frequent use, Tamlin is a son of Spring, and he truly sees to it that you, ahem, blossom, out in the open air, in the fields and forests of his court. Honorable mention to the many closet doors and hidden rooms that had been willing third parties in your lust driven frenzied moments between meetings and courtly duties.

(not sure if this should be under kink, but he likes to hunt you through his forests and claim you when he finally gets his hands… or paws… on you. Like I said, not made for modest minds.)

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

He doesn't dress up often, and mostly exists in his practical clothing, but seeing you dressed up (or dressed down), and radiant, it really does something to him. He loves that you feel safe and comfortable enough to be free; a soft flowing dress that hints at your curves, your hair unbound and cheeks flushed from the brisk spring air, he goes feral over your softness and warmth. It's the same at night or when you're dressed down to do things like read a book or craft. He has the instinct of a provider, and seeing you comfortable and relaxed, seeing you happy and warm and inviting, it makes him feel not only emotionally secure, but physically makes him want to hold you, care for you, love you. (And well, you know where that tends to lead with our Tam.) 

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Degradation. He’s definitely into mixing pain and pleasure, but when it comes to how he speaks to you, putting you down or degrading you is a hard no. He doesn’t like being spoken to that way either. Teasing and taunting? Sure. But he prefers a relationship void of this at all.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

This. Male. Lives. Between. Thighs. 

He needs the taste of you like he needs to breathe.

It’s not performative. He genuinely craves you, and he’s not squeamish or shy about any of the body’s natural scents or functions. 

Tamlin likes when you take time to pleasure him as well, and it's normally when you both are having a lazy day where nothing is rushed, but he is a giver, and he doesn't rush your pleasure. He knows how to draw you to your edge, how to leave you wanting, how to make your body sing and push you over the edge again and again. He doesn’t care when or where, anytime is fair game when it comes to laying you down and moving your skirts out of the way so he can feast.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Everything. He’s everything. But in general, there's a feral edge that drives him to go at a medium but brutal pace. He’s making sure you feel him in every nerve of your body, each thrust threatening to push you over the edge and leave you breathless.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He’s not against them. 

He prefers to have enough time for you two to fully enjoy each other, but with how busy courtly duties can be for both of you, quickies are not uncommon. It’s quite common actually to find yourself being pounded against a closet door, a hand twined in your hair, or bent over a private lunch table, a hand muffling your mouth as you try your hardest to not disturb the manors staff with your heated moments. He’s not the only insatiable beast in this relationship.

Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Yes. As long as your overall safety is not at risk, all else is fair game. Tam is definitely open to trying new things, he’s not much for traditional boundaries when it comes to how you two experience and share pleasure.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Multiple rounds. He takes his time and lasts quite a while before finding his release, often making sure you're thoroughly sated before joining in on the fun. Sometimes it's only a breath before you continue, sometimes it can be an hour of loving caresses and being content in each other's presence before continuing, but he can go all night. And trust me when i say, he’s got stamina.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Toys are not entirely common especially in the beginning, but Tam is definitely open to them. The reason that you guys don't exactly have them until later on in the relationship is just because Tams magic itself and shapeshifting are both very present when you two are together. Who needs leather straps when vines have you bound and displayed like a piece of art? 

(I’m sorry to say my mind is filthy but who needs a helping hand… or appendage… when he can literally dual wield himself by shapeshifting??)

It would be unfair to compare his purring to a vib… anyways.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He is EXTREMELY unfair sometimes, but he delivers in the end. He doesn't bring you to the edge just to not help you over. But he has centuries of experience in honing his love of pleasure, this male knows when you’re urgently needy, and if he’s in a particularly roguish mood? Everything is slow, and teasing, and lazily sensual until you’re aching with need and he still wants to hear you panting and babbling before he delivers your release.

Would you put yourself through the torture again? duh.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Oh boy, he's a growly one. He’s not shy about his sounds and it’s great. The deep husky command in his voice, the panting as your bodies move as one, the growls of desire and dominance, the whimpers of pleasure when he surrenders control, the hurried words of praise and love, and even the hoarse moans- he’s not shy about his sounds. It drives you mad with how much you want to hear more.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He likes to be babied and cared for. Like being a beastie boy is all good, but he truly likes to be pet and brushed when he's in his other form. He likes being held and snuggled. In his fae form he loves when you sit in his lap in a non sexual way and have your face buried in his neck. He loves the intimacy you share, just holding each other and reading or watching the sun rise under the open sky. 

If the wild card is a sexual thing, it might be surprising , but he truly has an artistic soul, even when it comes to intimacy. The way he weaves your bodies together and makes you feel, he has the heart and soul of an artist despite his role in his court  and you feel it in every moment you share with him.

*I think he likes when you take control sometimes too. Ride him like your life depends on it and tell him he’s a good boy when he’s close okay? He’s a good boy!* 

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Lord. High Lord that is. He’s sinfully, lustfully crafted by the mother herself. Even in his fae form, there's a primal buzz to the air about him. His hard toned body that even a glimpse at when he's fully dressed has you thinking of the feel of him pressed against you… yeah.

Tamlin is one of the bigger males you’ve seen, he has that rakish glint in his eye that is at odds with his respectful presence. A princely air about him that is at odds with the animalistic tilt of his head and gate of his step. That damn soft mouth of his that often pulls on the pointed edge of his canines…

I need air.

Tamlin has these masculine but elegant hands, they’re large and rough from his fighting and swordsmanship, but elegantly shaped and veined, and artistic as well. And his body? It doesn't matter how long you’ve been with him, any glimpse sends your blood boiling.

If we’re talking about certain parts, though, he's thick. Long enough to please you, but thick enough to have you buzzing with anticipation- Every. Time. and that's before the shapeshifting games begin. How many different species are there in Prythian? That's a whole lot of schlongs to have fun with. 

(I’m sorry. no I’m not)

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

His sex drive is high. Multiple times throughout the day, and it’s never lacking, he always shows up both emotionally and physically. Sometimes though, it catches you off guard. A gentle touch, a lingering stare, and you can feel the heat building in your cheeks, the shallowness of your breath. You drive him mad with need, and the effect he has on you is unparalleled. You yearn for him deeply and thoroughly as well. 

It’s nice, by the way, he finally feels loved and chosen by you, and you feel the same- wanted by him. 

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Pretty quickly. Tamlin is actually a relatively light, sometimes restless sleeper and will wake at the smallest sound, though it's hard to gauge when he’s actually awake or asleep. He’s good at checking in through the night to monitor your surroundings but he never moves or makes sounds in an effort to not wake you up. 

He’s better than he used to be, though the restlessness from his past hardships still sometimes trouble him. Since meeting you though, his nights have been more peaceful and he can often get through the entire night without waking, thanks to the conversations and real tough realities you've worked through with him- it was a non-negotiable on your end in order for you to accept his courtship, and he was willing to face his demons for a chance to be yours.

_________

Edit: honorable mention that I could see him being in a bite-y mood and just….

[minefield-of-a-ninja]

*original Image from a CW still photo

Summary: Dean shows you what it means to be in a relationship with a self-proclaimed Red-winged Bloodhound, and to be loved.

Characters: Dean Winchester x You

Tags/warnings: 18+ ONLY, period sex, shower sex, brief oral, super horny bc hormones and Dean Winchester, ILY exchange, intimacy

Words: 2K

Author’s notes: Sanctioned will be a series of low-stakes explorations of sexual taboos and boundary nudging with one or both of the Winchester brothers and You. It will all be written in 2nd person, further fostering a sense of closeness and leaning into the level of intimacy achieved with each act. It will not necessarily be considered part of the same universe but can absolutely be read that way.

As always, all my love goes to my long-time beta and friend @brrose-apothecary and many thanks to @bigmouthlass for the read-through and green light.

Sanctioned: The Red-Wing Rodeo

Being on your period sucks.

You radiate heat, but you're freezing. You can’t even think about wearing anything other than sweatpants. Most days, you bleed through an ultra tampon and the thickest pads you can buy in less than an hour, and you’re hungry all the time.

For nasty, greasy junk food and for Dean.

Dean’s gorgeous and effortlessly sexy. Even when you aren’t on your period, all he has to do is say your name and you’re putty in his hands. When you are on your period, bloated as a bridge troll and craving melty cheese, the things your brain conjures up for him to do to you threaten to set feminism back faster and farther than an old, white conservative on the Supreme Court.

It’s all you can think about—Dean’s hands on your skin, his lips on your throat, and his cock hammering you senseless.

But you smell bad, right? Your eyes are puffy and your feet look like sausages. No one thinks that’s attractive.

He’s tried to tell you that he likes it. Loves it, is what he’s said. He’s the one who told you there’s a name for guys like him—Bloodhounds. He’s even gone down on women having their period.

You don’t consider yourself a prude, but he can’t be serious, can he?

Right now, you’re in the shower in an attempt to feel less ick and maybe work out some frustration where you can easily clean up afterward. You’ve washed and conditioned your hair, exfoliated, shaved everything, and now you’re standing under just-the-right-temperature water as it blessedly sluices your neck and shoulders to your toes. You’re starting to feel something approaching relaxed when you hear Dean’s voice.

“Care if I join ya?” he asks, peeking around the large shower stall with a grin that no one in their right mind could resist. He’s naked, his hair’s spiking in nine different directions, and his face is smudged with grease from the Impala.

You shake your head and shrug, afraid to firmly commit to any answer since every cell in your body is stretched tight between tenterhooks; you could snap at any second.

“You sure?” He arches a brow and dips his chin to his chest as he eases his way into the shower.

“M’sure,” you mutter, curling in on yourself.

He settles in behind you, tall and strong, skimming his big hands over your hips before gently palming your belly. You rest one hand on his forearm and reach up behind you with the other to slide your fingers through his dampening hair. Dean begins to hum and sway before moving to multitask—dragging one hand up to expertly cup and caress one hot, tender breast, and lazily drawing a random but intricate pattern around your navel and lower.

“I know it’s your time of the month or whatever you call it, and I know it’s gettin’ harder lately,” he murmurs, touching you with reverence and heat, kissing your temple, around the shell of your ear. “I wanna make it better.”

You sigh. “I know… I just-”

When his thumb brushes your nipple, you gasp and bite back a desperate moan.

“Just what, honey? Tell me.”

He shifts behind you and his thick, hard cock grazes the curve of your back. It’s too much. He’s told you so many times how good he could make it for you.

“Please?” He continues to kiss and suck the thin skin of your throat and thumb your nipple.

You bite your lip and twist his hair with your fingers. Maybe you can let go a little. The shower will help with the mess, right?

Dean sucks an earlobe between his lips and brings his other hand up to work your other breast, forcing a pitiful whimper from your chest. You grip his wrists, encouraging his touch and buck back against him.

“Fuck me,” you whisper.

Dean groans and you can practically feel him vibrate with excitement. “I promise I’m gonna make this so good for you,” he whispers back.

You sigh, brace your hands against the tile in front of you, and widen your stance before glancing over your shoulder. His eyes flick to yours as he lathers up his hands. When he takes a step closer to touch you again, you drop your head to hang between your arms and exhale. He works you up, kneading your breasts, pulling and teasing your taut, sensitive nipples.

“You look so beautiful when you trust me like this. I want you to know it and believe it.”

He nuzzles and nips under your jaw as he hooks one hand under your right knee and gathers both your wrists with the other. You gasp when he lifts and shifts you like you weigh nothing, spreading you up and open, pressing you up against the cool tile.

“Makes me crazy knowin’ how bad you want somethin’ but won’t ask for it.”

And then he slowly sinks inside you.

You sob his name and quake between his solid weight and the soothing ceramic. You feel so hot and light, spread wide and fucked tight.

“So good, Dean,” you whimper, and he kisses you everywhere he can, sucking small bruises into your skin.

“You too.” He pushes your knee up higher, opening you wider. “So hot and greedy. Fuck, your pussy’s squeezin’ me so tight.”

“Ung.”

His thrusts are slow, shallow, and precise. Each pass sends ripples of brilliant pleasure from the ends of your hair to the tips of your toes—liquid, rolling, boiling.

“Wanted you like this for so long,” he huffs in your ear. “Give you what you need when you feel so empty.”

He’s repeatedly, steadily driving over your g-spot, slip-sliding along the path he’s traveled time and time again—but this time, every single nerve ending inside you is engorged and hypersensitive. You can feel every ridge of his cock, stroking your insides.

“Yes, Dean. I can- can feel you everywhere. Fuck.” You gasp for air and arch your neck as he plants his forehead against the shower wall.

“C’mon,” he whispers, quickening his grinding pace and eliciting a shout from you.

“Fuck… fuck… fuck…” you’re chanting, your skin is singing, and your vision blurs.

Time warps and whirls, Dean tells you you’re so perfect, so beautiful, and then- your body seizes rigid and shocking before blowing up into the most powerful, white-hot orgasm you’ve ever had.

•

•

•

Dean gently nudges you awake with soft, warm touches and the aroma of chicken soup. Your eyelids flutter open and he’s lying on his side above the covers facing you, lightly brushing the wide tips of his fingers across your forehead.

“How ya feelin’?”

“Mmmph.” You wriggle into him, clutching his soft t-shirt in your fists, and nuzzle his chest.

Dean chuckles. “That good, huh?”

You feel brand new, wrapped in crystal-spun gossamer—delicate and feral. Your consciousness scrambles to catch up to your body’s instinct to climb on top of Dean and never let him out of bed ever again.

He runs a hand down and up your back, soothing and warm, and kisses your temple. “Should eat somethin’, babe. Made ya some chicken soup and those cheese crisps you like so much.”

“You’re so good to me,” you mutter as you roll and squirm toward your nightstand. You push yourself to sit up, holding the sheet to your chest, and reach for the steaming mug.

Dean traces your spine, back and forth, up and down, sending chill bumps all over your body. You are pretty hungry, so you take a few healthy sips from the mug and pop a cheese crisp into your mouth before turning back to face Dean.

“Thank you. I do love those crisps. But I like you even better.” You scoot closer to him and slide your hands up under his t-shirt. “You should get naked and get under the covers with me.”

“I should?” He smirks in that way that makes your heart skip and your guts twirl. “One single period sex shower session and you’re hooked. I like it.”

He helps you get his shirt off before shimmying out of his pajama pants and sliding under the covers with you so you’re skin to skin.

“God, you’re already hard.” You immediately push a hand down and wrap your fingers around his thick length, kissing him hungrily. “So smooth, want you in my mouth.”

“Uh-uh,” Dean stops you from diving down, rolling you to your back and kneeing your legs open to slot his hips and grind his cock right there. “I want you in my mouth, smell so fucking good, so ripe and hot.”

You groan. Two hours ago, you’d have been horrified by the mere suggestion, but now you want, want, want.

“Dean, you can’t-”

He answers your groan, rolling his hips and nestling his face against your neck. “I won’t if you don’t want it, but,” he pauses, pushing up to look you in the eye. “You want it, don’t you?”

His eyes sparkle, and your pussy throbs. He’s right; you’re hooked and there’s no going back. You’re so turned on that he likes the way you smell—that he wants to devour you. Dean’s always eager to eat your pussy, but right now he looks ravenous.

Your heart rate kicks up a notch, and you nod.

Dean swears under his breath before kissing you, hot and firm. He kisses you so well, every day. He’s thorough with his kisses and touches. This is no exception.

When he finally, slowly begins his descent, you’re breathless, writhing in the twisted bedding and fisting your hair. He gives every square inch of your body the same treatment as your mouth, all the way to your ankles and the arches of your feet. Everywhere he touches, licks, and kisses is a hot zone. As he makes his way back upward, you think you might come before he even lays a finger on your clit.

“Dean, I’m-” You break into a sob and squeeze your eyes shut.

“No, no- don’t hold back, honey. Make some noise, make a mess, I gotchu. C’mon.”

You open your eyes and he’s watching you closely as he hunkers back down, nodding. You mirror his nod and take a deep breath, reaching for him to sink your fingers into his hair.

He smiles as he continues kissing his way from your knee up the inside of your thigh, then splays his fingers against the backs of your thighs. You watch him gently part your seam with his thumbs and dip in to press a kiss to your swollen clit.

“Fuck,” you breathe, dropping your head back to the mattress and twisting his hair in your fists.

He huffs a quiet laugh, blowing a stream of cool air over your slick, open pussy, and you lose it.

“Aaahhh!”

You’re higher than you’ve ever been on any substance, raw, and on fire. You feel like you might rocket through the roof of the bunker into the stratosphere; then Dean slides up over you and inside you, filling you up and anchoring you. He braces his forearms on either side of your head and you wrap your arms around his back.

“I love you so much,” you whisper, accepting his kiss and reveling in his long, steady strokes inside you.

He rests his forehead against yours and breathes, dragging out and pushing back in.

“Me too,” he whispers back, brushing noses with you. “So much, honey. Thank you for lettin’ me take care of you.”

You giggle and lift your legs to hug him tight. “Thank you.”

“Next time, I’m goin’ down on you ‘til you forget your own name, but,” he pauses to rotate his hips and kiss you again. “I just had to be inside you.”

“Not complaining.”

Dean keeps that connection, pulls the thread, loops it back again, and reminds you why you’re there. He reminds you of why you love him.

[holylulusworld]

Unworthy (2)

Summary: Thor doesn’t think you‘re a good friend to his brother.

Pairing: AU!Thor Odinson x fem!Reader, AU!Loki Laufeyson x fem!Reader (platonic/best friends)

Warnings: past addiction, mentions of drug abuse/addiction (Loki), angst, classism, Thor being an ass, BBF trope, mentions of spiked drinks

Catch up here: Unworthy (1)

Unworthy masterlist

“Stop her then, son. If she told you the truth, we should find out more about what happened,” Odin feels like he just threw his daughter out of his house. “I shouldn’t have listened to you. Why did I not double-check your information.”

“Husband, not now,” Frigga places her hand on Odin’s shoulder. “Do not make another mistake. Maybe she is innocent, but we need to investigate further first. Thor, follow her. She’s the best source of information.”

“Right,” Thor huffs but turns to follow you. “I’m not sure she told me the truth. Some people have the ability to sell you any lie.”

Thor walks away to follow you. He easily catches up on you with his long legs and determined steps. “Wait—” He calls your name. It’s more an order than a request.

You move toward the exit, ignoring Thor walks next to you. “I said wait.”

“What else do you want to accuse me of?” You stop for a moment to glare up at Thor. “Maybe I sold drugs to Loki, huh? Maybe I was the one getting him addicted. Just leave me alone, Odinson.”

“If the guy spiked your drink there should be a police report…right?” He cocks a brow. Thor is not as good as his father at reading people, but he can see the fear in your eyes when the memories of that night come back.

“My friend called the cops after bringing me to the hospital. I gave a statement, and they promised me that he wouldn’t get away with what he did to me. I believed them,” you laugh bitterly.

“What happened?” He steps closer to tower over you. Thor is intimidating, with his sheer size and figure dwarfing you, but you won’t cower in front of him.

“What always happens,” you shrug and try to balance the box in your hands at the same time. “He came from a good family with old money. My words against his. I was the outsider allowed to walk their holy halls because of a scholarship.”

“That’s awful,” Thor sucks in a breath. If what you’re telling him is true, he understands that you always despised him, the golden son having it all. He never had to work for anything.

“It didn’t matter that my friend, the doctor, and the nurse gave a statement too. They tried to pressure me into taking my statement back, but I refused,” you sniff, and look away. “I didn’t matter, though. He got away with it because his parents knew the right people. Suddenly my test results were gone, and the guests at the party didn’t remember shit. I was lucky to not lose my scholarship. If we are done here, I’d love to leave this shitty place.”

Thor doesn’t stop you when you walk away from him. He has a lot of information to stomach. Thor hopes you’re just a good liar, and he was right about you. But he has a hunch that every word you said was true.

“That’s all, huh?” Hela looks up from her laptop to glare at Thor. He thumbs through the papers and pictures on Hela’s desk. “You didn’t find more?” He asks.

“Stop nagging,” she snaps at him. “You should thank me instead of moping. I got the statement from her friend and the doctor. The nurse withdrew her statement right after she bought a brand-new car.”

“Sounds fishy,” Hogun grumbles. It wasn’t in his plans to sneak around your apartment and follow you around town. “I don’t think the sweet girl is a criminal mastermind. All she did was to buy groceries and look for a new job.”

“Hey, it’s still my turn,” Hela glares at Hogun. “We wanted to talk about her past before we get to the present and future. A shame I didn’t get the chance to interrogate her.” She smirks at her brother. “I bet the sweet girl would’ve been putty in my hands.”

Thor curls his upper lip. “What did you find out?”

Hela leans back in her chair and crosses one leg over the other. She takes her time to inform her brother.

“I found more questions than answers. But I can tell you that the guy spiking Y/N’s drink is a piece of shit. Over the years his parents tried to cover all the shit he pulled. Luckily, they did not succeed. He crossed one too many lines and they turned their back on him.”

“Interesting,” Thor grabs one of the pictures taken at the hospital. You look scared and his heart hurts seeing the tears run down your cheeks. “Anything else?”

“No well done from you?” She huffs. “Always the same with you and father.” Hela snaps at her brother. “I tried to talk to his parents, but they refused to talk about the incident with Y/N. If you ask me, their son did exactly what Y/N said.”

“Says who…?” Thor questions. He’s still not convinced that you told him the truth and that you are innocent. If so, he’d be the worst person ever for ruining your career and friendship with his brother.

“How is he? Where is he?” You pant heavily as you try to find Loki. “Duke, where is he?” You ask Loki’s sponsor. “Duke!”

“He’s in a bad condition,” Duke’s features soften at your worried look. You’re out of your mind because Loki’s AA sponsor called you in the middle of the night. What if Loki is relapsed or is injured?

“Did he have a relapse?” You clasp your hands together to silently pray Loki didn’t do anything stupid because of what happened. “Duke?”

“No,” Duke shakes his head. “He needs you. Loki asked for you the whole time. I didn’t want to call you, but he wouldn’t stop. He’s vulnerable, Y/N.”

“I need to see him.”

“Loki’s inside my office,” Duke gently pats your shoulder. “Take all your time, Y/N. If you need a ride home, I’ll drive you.”

“Loki?” You walk inside the office, heart lurching in your chest. Loki sits on the ground. His long legs stretched out, and his head hanging. “Darling?”

“Y/N,” he murmurs but doesn’t look at you. Loki believed you gave up on him. Thor, his father, and Frigga didn’t tell him the whole truth. When one of your co-workers told him that you got fired and showed him the pictures Loki knew, Thor did this to you to get you out of his life.

“Hey, beautiful,” you sit down next to Loki and wrap one arm around his shoulders. “How’s my pretty boy tonight?”

“Not good,” he leans his head against your shoulder and sighs. “I almost fucked up again, Y/N. I was bad tonight. I…I…” he sniffles and wrings his hands. “I almost bought the poison.”

“Did you buy it?”

“No.”

“Good. See, you’re stronger than you thought,” you peck his hair. “I knew you could do it, Loki.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about your job and my brother?” He murmurs. “I could’ve helped you.”

“Your brother is an asshole, you know that” you try to cheer Loki up while your world still lies in ruins. “He tried to find something to hold against me and succeed. It’s not the end of the world to lose a job, darling. I’ll find something soon.”

“Hmmm…” Loki thoughtfully hums. “Maybe I can lend you some money.”

“I got spared money, Loki. I’m not your friend because of your money, darling.”

“You are my friend because of my good looks, right?” Relieved that you are not angry at him for the things his family did, Loki sighs.

“I’m your friend because I love you, darling,” you pat his thigh. For a moment you are both silent. “So, you came here for a meeting?”

“Three,” he says. “I’m sorry Duke had to call you.”

“I told you a long time ago that you can always call me, Loki. Day or night,” you softly say. “Did you eat today, darling?”

His growling stomach answers your question. “Not much,” Loki admits. “I wasn’t in the mood for food.”

“That was the most awful rhyme I ever heard,” you laugh. “Come on, darling. I’ll take you home and we can eat my leftovers.”

“You want to take me home?” He purrs. “You can’t wait to get your hands on me, huh? I bet you waited for me to call.”

“You’re a little bitch, Loki Laufeyson.”

“I love you too, Y/N…”

You watch Loki’s chest rise and fall. Still worried about your friend you didn’t leave his side.

Finally at peace after hours of suffering and self-hatred, he sleeps peacefully on your bed.

He greedily stuffed your leftovers into his mouth and even burped because you wanted him to eat dessert too.   

You talked for half the night, assuring him that his father and brother can do whatever they want to. You will stand by Loki’s side. Whether they like it or not.

“If you don’t stop yelling at me I’ll hang up,” you snarl into the phone. “I only called to tell you that Loki is safe and didn’t have a relapse. He’s asleep and I’ll drive him home after he had breakfast.”

Thor yells into the phone. He throws profanities at you while his sister watches him with amusement. She chuckles and listens to your explanation. “Thor, calm down. She took good care of him.”

“You don’t have a say in this,” Thor grunts. “She gets fired and then…” He growls and grunts while you listen to his rant.

“Are you done?” You ask. “I’m going to hang up now. I don’t want to wake Loki. He needs his sleep after everything he’s gone through last night. If you need to know more, ask his sponsor who called me, knowing I’ll be the one getting Loki out of the hole he fell into once again.”

You hang up, already regretting that you called Loki’s family. All you wanted to do was make sure they won't worry all night because he didn’t come home.

You harrumph and walk back inside your living room to switch through the channels. Sleep is out of the question after the call. Thor once again made you furious, and you hate the feeling.

Next time he dares to show his face, you’ll knee his balls and give him a piece of your mind…

Part 3

Tags in reblog.

[loveydoveysortastuff]

Feast Upon You...✨

Anon: How would Wanda react to someone hitting on her girlfriend? 🔞

Rating/Warnings: NSFW. Public sex, eating out, fingering, jealous Wanda. Pairing: Dom!Wanda MaximoffxSub!Reader Word Count: 1364

This is my first fic so please be nice! Comments and feedback are welcome :)

If you have a prompt, send me an ask! - Kara ✨🌛

✨Wanda would quite literally freeze on the spot.

 ✨Walking back from the bar with both of your drinks in her hand, when she spots the jerk putting his arm around your shoulders, she’d quite literally stop moving.

✨And glare directly at the man who is trying to put his moves onto you.

 ✨The glasses in her hand would creak and groan against her strong grip and Wanda (not so secretly) wills one of them to break, just so she can shove one of the sharp shards through his eye socket.

 ✨You let out an awkward laugh and try your best to create room in the already enclosed space of the booth.

✨It does little to make a gap between you both; his leering body chasing you, eager to keep you pressed to him.

 ✨Wanda catches the moment you heave at his smell: a grotesque combination of sweat and stale alcohol filling your nostrils.

 ✨When you finally glance at your girlfriend, your eyes are full of irritation.

 ✨That look alone makes Wanda move again; legs moving quickly as she strides towards the two of you.

 ✨The man doesn’t look from you when she clears her throat, in an attempt to be polite.

 ✨Or when she slams the two drinks on the table.

✨He barely flinches when Wanda says: “Hey, dickbag.”

✨Instead, he cosies up closer to you, reaching a finger to trace it down your jawbone.

 ✨And mercifully, that’s Wanda’s final straw.

✨Her eyes glow red and it illuminates the dark corner the three of you are in; and finally, that ominous glow catches his attention.

✨“Can I help you?”

✨You can pinpoint the exact second he registers that it’s Wanda Maximoff glowering down at him; not some random stranger.

✨He all but jerks, face paling like a mother’s face in her early weeks of pregnancy, and you can’t help but giggle at that.

 ✨“Not so cocky now are you?”

✨“I didn’t - "

✨ “Didn’t what? Believe my girlfriend when she said she was waiting for me? I suggest you move. Now.”

 ✨He falters and that alone makes Wanda’s anger spike.

✨The red consumes her eyes and clouds around her fingers; and the man, lets out a pathetic whimper before his body is thrown from Wanda’s seat and out of the double doors to the bar.

 ✨Wanda doesn’t even check to see if he’s okay, doesn’t give the blatant stares and whispers a second look, as she grabs you by the arm and all but drags you into the back.

✨Shoving you into the vacant (and mercifully very clean) disabled toilet.

 ✨Smashing her lips to yours seconds before the door can even fully shut. Wanda not caring if anyone sees.

 ✨It takes your breath away and you stumble backwards; feet tripping over themselves as Wanda completely takes charge of you, hands gripping the back of your neck so tightly it’s borderline painful.

 ✨"Who owns you?” She growls as your ass bumps into the small sink on the wall.

 ✨"You do, mommy.”

✨"Such a good girl for me, aren't you, prinzessin? My good girl."

✨"Yes, mommy. I'm yours. Always yours." 

✨Her lips move down to your neck and she bares her teeth.

 ✨It drives Wanda wild, licking and nipping at your skin that is scented with the perfume you always wear.

✨Your head lulls back, eyes rolling shut, a happy sigh escaping your lips.

✨Wanda knows your neck is your weak point, knows that all she has to do it grab it with her hand or bite down with her teeth, are you're nothing but putty in her hands.

✨"Did he hurt you?" she asks.

✨Your brain falters and Wanda nips you, causing you to let out a pained gasp.

✨"I asked a question, baby. Answer it."

✨You force your brain to focus.

✨"I - no, he didn't, mommy."

✨"Are you sure, baby?" Wanda asks as she moves to the other side of your neck. "Waste of space, hitting on what's mine."

✨"I'm sure."

✨She hoists you with little to no warning, picking you up and settling you on the edge of the cupboard as her lips find your own again.

✨"I want to taste you." She tells you, fingers pulling up at your skirt. "And I want you to be loud. Let the whole bar hear you."

✨She goes to yank your panties down but only finds your soft skin instead.

✨Her eyebrow quirks up, a smile pulling at her lips.

✨"No panties this evening, hmm?"

✨You shake your head, blushing slightly.

✨"Naughty, naughty girl." Wanda murmurs. “I’ll have to think of a different trophy to take then, won’t I?” 

✨She very slowly drops to her knees between your spread legs and you can feel how wet and needy your pussy is. 

✨Wanda’s mouth waters and her tongue pokes out to lick her bottom lip. 

✨”I was thinking about taking you to get ice cream after,” she says, planting a kiss on your left inner thigh. “But I think I’d much rather eat you for dessert - what do you think?” 

✨And Wanda - your ever crafty girlfriend - waits until you open your mouth to reply before leaning forward and kissing you directly where you ache for her. 

✨You let out a strangled sound, one that is on the verge of being just too loud. 

✨She kisses you again, wet mouth pressing against your soft lips; doing so until your hands latch into her hair and you try to tug her where you need her the most. 

✨Her tongue parts you, your taste filling Wanda’s mouth as she rises higher until she finds your puffy clit with ease; arms worming around your thighs to keep you in place. 

✨Her lips close around it and she sucks your clit into her mouth.

✨”Oh fuck.” 

✨There’s a dull thud as your head falls back. 

✨Wanda’s eyes drift up to look at you and she smirks against you, seeing how your body is already tensing against the mirror behind. Your bottom lip is trapped between your teeth and your eyes are screwed shut. 

✨”You’re soaked, darling.” Wanda says, slurping you greedily; a string of your wetness attached to her lips. “I bet I could slip three fingers into you so easily.” 

✨She attacks your clit, tongue flicking at it with such a pace that it has you arching. 

✨You hate that you’re already so worked up, hate that she edged you for two hours that morning because you refused to drink your water the day before. 

✨But you love the stretch as she slowly pushes three of her fingers into you. 

✨Love how you clench around her and almost pull her hair from her roots as she curls them just right into you.

✨”There you go, baby.” Wanda bites your thigh again. 

✨When she moves her fingers and slams them back into you, her mouth finds your clit again and you moan, toes curling. 

✨There is one thing you adore about Wanda, and it’s the use of her hands - no, her fingers. She’s a woman of many talents and her finger work is definitely in the top 3.

✨You’re chanting the word fuck, body coiled tight, and you both know your release is imminent. 

✨”You have 5 seconds to cum.” Wanda orders, fingers working in and out of you quickly. “Otherwise I will edge you until next week.” 

✨“Shit.” 

✨It hits you when she gets to 3, a body trembling orgasm that tears through you violently and leaves you with trembling legs around Wanda’s head. 

✨She slurps everything you have to offer, drinking it down as if she was a starving woman and you can’t help but grind your pussy down onto her face; desperate to chase that second high that is just tantalisingly out of reach. 

✨And just when you think Wanda is going to grant you another release, she stops. 

✨Pulling away and out of you as you let out a mewl of incoherent words. 

✨"I’m taking you home and you will be cumming until I decide to stop, understood?” 

✨You nod. 

✨"My good little slut. Mine."

[yodawgiheardyoulikemecha]

1/100 scale HDM-04 “GARBALDY” or “GARIBALDI” (painted), 2008 This design borns in 2007 as my personal version of a sort of Zion unit of Gundam Universe. It started as a modification of a 1/100 scale Goblin (see in “Pubblication” section if you like to see this model), then I’ve decided to create almost everything from scratch. Creation of the master lasted almost 5 months of hard sculpting work and it was the first time i’ve used lathe to create several round shapes like spikes on shoulders, gun and thrusters noozles, sturm fausts, gun’s barrel and other pieces. Once completed it’s about 24 cm (10 inches) tall and it’s composed by 150 resin parts circa. The master (prototype) was made out of Milliput Superfine, Plasticard, Evergreen bars, model kit parts and common every-day-objects, all melted together with Epoxy Putty and super-glue. The master (prototype) was made out of Milliput Superfine, Plasticard, Evergreen bars, model kit parts and common every-day-objects, all melted together with Epoxy Putty and super-glue. He got lots of modifications during the years and was limited-producted many time as a resin kit for Kallamity Productions.