#again even pre musk

[adelle-ein]

if nothing else i’m so glad i don’t have to see “here’s why if you don’t [x] you should kill yourself 🧵” anymore

[lolana101]

𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐔𝐁𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐒

⤷ VIKTOR: SLOPPY SECONDS

⤷ feat. viktor (arcane league of legends)

cw: 18+ , oral stimulation (m), edging, dirty talk, dom! f reader, saliva, nsfw, angst? enjoy!!

“i don’t do this.”

viktor’s accent was heavy against his tongue, his gaze weighted with an unsure haze. his now useless cane clutched in his hand as he stared down at you, between his legs. you knew you’d find him here, working late, jayce long gone. was hexcore even a shared project anymore?

his bad leg dangling over the work bench, his weight crushing the onslaught of papers and tools beneath him.

“i’ve never- done this.”

his breath hitched, as you softly caressed his thigh. a soft, hum arose from your throat in understanding, as you looked fixedly up at him.

“say something.. please.”

the cane clatters against the floor as he hesitantly reached and touched your cheek - a soft poke. did he think you weren’t real? he probably thought of that possibility once; he is always thinking.

“what do you want me to say?”

tour voice was soft, eyes never leaving his. his gaze flickered at the hexcore, the room enclosed in a soft blue hue.

you continued to softly rub his thigh, inching up and up.. you could feel the soft twitching of his thigh, the needy yet silent urges emanating from him. what did he look like voicing those sins?

then again, that’s why he liked you. you could practically read through him. you started to fiddle with his belt, sliding the leather off with practiced ease.

“you’re hard.”

you voiced, slowly rubbing the bulge through his pants. his breath paused, a soft buck up into your hands.

you leaned down, pressing soft kisses against his twitching, clothed need, humming softly. Your fingers slid up to his zipper, tugging it down and pulling away. With his jeans open, you could get a look. a soft dark patch forming as his pre-cum weeps through fabric.

his face was red now, those soft blemishes over his face highlighted with the blue. he looked gorgeous. his mouth was agape, silently begging. I guess he waited enough.

your hand softly jerked at the pretty, pink mushroom tip. his length astonishing, not too thick but freakishly long. your fingers slick with his arousal as he let out almost pathetic whimpers. his eyes fluttered close, his thick brown eyebrows curving at the softest stimulation of your hands. his semi - hard member rose up quickly, your finger slowly pumping, pulling up the shaft until your plant wrapped around his head, then moving down.

leaning closer your tongue swiped at the base, slowly trailing up until you could taste the salty need pouring out from him. he let out a shaky sigh, as your plush lips wrapped around his head, sucking and licking. your tongue swiping curiously at his hot need, your hand still gently stimulating him, though gradually gets pulled away as you take him deeper.

it felt so good, his legs twitching. deeper, is all he wanted. you soon obliged sinking down onto him, until your nose was pressed against the soft hair of his stomach, your throat contracting against him. he smelled good, the soft hairs under his stomach and lower smelled of soft musk. so manly.

“fuck..”

a breathless whisper, as your head bobbed on his throbbing cock, spit dribbling down his base only to get slurped back up. every movement had him twitching, he swore he would cum under the first minute. he couldn’t help it, his hand grasping at your curls, swiping them up into a bun to aid you into drilling his length into you. his dick twitched, heat pooling in his stomach threatening to spill.

“I-i’m..”

In an instant he twitched, though as the pleasure washed over him he let out an uncomfortable whimper, your tongue pressed roughly against the slit, humming. he huffed, staring down at you with pure need. his body was hot, needy. his hips twitching, your fingers moving to softly caress his bad leg easing the achy muscles.

“please..? why..”

you smiled up at him, his thighs twitching, as you kissed his base, sucking on his balls for a little before letting them go with a pop if your lips.

he was begging, you could see it. your wrist flicked at his head again, twisting, the lewd squelching echoing as he stared down at you. He was going to cum again, as he started to slowly fuck himself up into your palm.

he was getting more vocal, those sweet huffs turning into pliant begs, your wrist not moving anymore as you felt a familiar twitch in his base, before your thumb pressed against his tip.

“….f-fuck please-“

he whimpered, staring into your gaze, you were so evil. not letting him cum, not letting him desperately release that sweet orgasm he’s been holding - saving up for.

after a moment you remove your thumb, pressing a soft kiss against his tip before staring up at him, fingers skipping up his chest to grab his tie, hauling him down and pressing a sloppy kiss against his lips.

that taste, fresh black coffee. he chased your lips like a lost puppy, sloppy, licking up the dried drool off your lips, tasting the salty goodness he left on you.

“want me to make you cum yeah? fully?”

you asked, nipping at his neck before letting hip sit back up, your gaze down at your twitching cock.

“please? please please..”

he begged, your name rolling off his tongue, so close to sweet melody. you smiled up at him, before your gaze snapped back down, his hand wrapped around his base, as he pointed his needy dick to your lips.

that thick accent rolled your name off his lips for one last time, as you leaned down. your lips wrapped around him, head bobbing sloppily around his dick. you could hear him moan and groan, his hand sinking ti your scalp to guide your movements.

you were still in control, you both knew it. yet his needy whimpers allowed him to soften you just a little, to let him fuck your throat. his tip hitting the back of your throat, your hands splayed on his thighs. You could feel your own heat growing wet, pussy twitching just from him fucking his brains out into your mouth.

he let out a almost howl, your gaze snapping up at him, your eyes watered as you gaged slightly. you could feel warmth deep down your throat, his pretty pink cock twitching in your mouth. you came a a little too, your clothed clit twitching softly.

“…nng.”

he was still going through the after shocks, poor little viktor twitching, not even having the energy to form a sentence. he eased his cock out of you, It growing soft as he pulls you up, kissing you softly. he whined softly, feeling your hands softly jerk at his overstimulated sex.

“…good?”

“amazing.”

he pants out, nuzzling himself in your neck.

happy thanksgiving y’all !! hope he on my plate 😫please like and follow, and request!!

my most recent post here

[qqueenofhades]

I don’t have any words right now for what’s happened. Where in the fuck do we go from here?

I don't know. I really, truly don't know. We can't sugarcoat how bad things are going to get, and we can't pre-emptively give into it anyway. This is going to be an unprecedented time in American history (if, sadly, not world history) and the forces conspiring to make you obey will gain much of their power from you doing so in advance, without a struggle. It seems fair to say that America as it has always been historically constituted is over, and may not return in our lifetimes, but we also do not know that for a fact. If nothing else, the fascists will find it very hard to cancel competitive elections, and we cannot sit back, throw up our hands, conclude that voting is clearly meaningless, and let them do that. There are a lot of other things that we need to do, but that's one.

There are various postmortems to be written and nits to pick, but Harris was thrown into an impossible situation and did the best she could in 100 days. Even her critics agree she ran a pretty much flawless campaign. But this country simply decided that a well-qualified black woman could not be preferred over the most manifestly and flagrantly unfit degenerate to ever occupy the office. They decided this for many reasons, not least because large swathes of the country now live in curated misinformation bubbles that, under Government Czar Musk, will only get much, much worse. They were helped by the cowardice and complicity of the "mainstream media" that could have ended Trump's career exactly like they did to Biden after the first debate, but chose to preserve the profits of their billionaire oligarch owners and did not do so, giving Trump the benefit of the doubt and normalization at every turn. They also hounded Biden relentlessly over the four years of his presidency, never reported on the good things he did, and drove him to the historically bad approval ratings lows for a president who was by any metric, quite successful (and will quite possibly be our last ordinary American president for a very long time). Along with the searingly ingrained racism and misogyny and misinformation, Harris could not overcome that.

Democrats clearly had a messaging problem, but it's also true that the country, quite simply, does not care about "democracy" when the economy is perceived to be at stake. Not to over-egg the Hitler parallels, but yeah. This is how Hitler returned to power in 1933 -- on the backs of widespread economic collapse of the Weimar Republic; voters decided they just didn't care about the overtly fascist stuff, which he then proceeded to you know, do with genocidal vigor. Except the American economy in this case was actually doing well, which makes it even more baffling and indefensible. Enough people simply memory-holed Trump's crimes (aided at every turn by SCOTUS, Mitch McConnell not convicting him after January 6, Merrick Garland being far too slow and timid, the corporate media), liked the racist fascist behavior or felt that it wasn't a dealbreaker, and decided that in this election, he was the "change" candidate. It's insane by any metric, but that's what happened.

The country is deeply sick. We do not know what will happen. It's going to get bad. Barring a miracle, we will not have federalized abortion rights again in my lifetime, and there will be widespread attacks on public health, women's rights, immigrants, transgender people, and other vulnerable people. Even and especially the ones who voted for Trump. Never Thought Leopard Would Eat My Face, etc. Alito and Thomas will swiftly step down and allow their seats to be replaced by 40-year old wingnuts hand-selected from the worst the Federalist Society has to offer. SCOTUS is gone for the next generation at least. There is very little prospect of it being ever fixed in the foreseeable future.

Trump will never face a scintilla of consequences for his previous crimes; all the open federal cases will be closed as soon as he takes office and fires Jack Smith. The best we can hope for is that he dies in office, but then we get Vance and the cadre of alt-right techno billionaires ruled directly from the Kremlin. Putin is celebrating this morning and with good reason; he's gotten everything he wants. Trump will egg on Netanyahu in Gaza and abandon Ukraine. Democracy across the world will remain even more fragile and badly under threat. Authoritarians will be empowered and American withdrawal from international systems will percolate in very dangerous ways that cannot and will not be fixed in the short run. I really hope all the leftists who celebrate this as the "defeat of the genocide candidate" will enjoy all the genocide and suffering that's about to come. And yes, I do think the Israel-Palestine war fucked us in a large way. Jewish voters perceived the Democrats as insufficiently pro-Israel due to the presence of far-left antisemitism, even as the far left attacked the Democrats relentlessly and never targeted the Republicans. Arab voters abandoned them, possibly deservedly. What would have happened without the war? We don't know. You get the historical period that you get. Netanyahu and Trump can now do anything they want. Hope it was worth it.

As I said, I can't sugarcoat it. We are going to be paying for this in some form for the next decade, and probably longer. I'm not as absolutely shattered as I was in 2016, but I am much, much angrier. We all thought, we all hoped, America was better than this. It isn't. That, however, is something that has also happened before. What we decide to do next will shape how the next chapter unfolds.

This would be a great time to stock up on needed medicines, renew your passport online, and anything else you need to do in preparation for next year. Many of us simply do not have the wherewithal, whether financial or otherwise, to leave the country. I don't know what will happen with me. I don't know what will happen to any of us. This was utterly avoidable and yet, America didn't want to avoid it. At some point, there's nothing else you can do. You can point to media cronyism, Russian influence, etc etc., but the fact that two of the most qualified presidential candidates who happened to be women have now lost to Trump twice makes it unavoidable. The virulent rightward shift of young men (of all races) in particular paints a grim picture as to how the reactionary misogyny of the 21st century is going to essentially undo most of the progress for social and gender equality in the 20th. The patriarchy has been a problem for most of human history. Doesn't really seem like it's going to change.

The end result of this, however grim: we're still here. We are still living within our communities. If (and this is a big if) Democrats can retake the House, they can put some checks on the process for the next two years. At this point, we are in full-out buying-time, trying-to-prevent-the worst mode. We could have continued fixing things, but we won't be doing that. We will only be trying to preserve ourselves and our friends and our smaller spheres of influence. It sounds very trite to say that we have to have courage, but we do. There's not much else.

It's going to be an awful winter. We have two and a half months to see this coming and know how bad it's going to be, and... yeah. I don't know how soon the buyer's remorse will inevitably set in, but it will. Tough luck, people. You voted for him. You get the country that you decide to have. But the rest of us are also here, and what Gandalf says is still true. We wish the Ring had never come to us, we wish none of this had happened, but we still have to decide what to do with the time that is given to us.

I don't have a lot more. I'll probably be logging off for a while. I don't need to look at the internet for.... yeah, a long time. (Will I do it anyway? Probably.) I don't know what else to leave you with, aside from again:

Do not obey in advance. Do not act as if everything is foreordained and set in stone. Fascist regimes end. They always do. We are going to have to figure out how, and it will suck shit, but the alternative is worse.

Take care of yourselves. I love you.

[dark-moonlust]

Cockwarming Minotaur PART 2: Movie Night

This series started from this imagine of mine.

Pairing: Minotaur x f!human reader

Summary: you and Balen spend a quiet night together. He is gloriously naked and you have that urge to take his dick in your mouth. Your Minotaur is even more demanding.

Warnings: minors don't interact, 18+!!!!, monster smut, Minotaur huge🍆, oral(male receiving), cοckwarming, lots of come. Don’t like, don’t read please.

This is part of the “Cockwarming Minotaur” series. Find all the parts here.

It was a quiet night. The full moon hung up in the sky, its rays filtering through the thin curtains. The bedroom was dimly lit, the TV playing in the background. Your minotaur boyfriend Balen was resting on the bed against the headboard, hands behind his head as he watched TV. He was naked, every part of him exposed. His massive frame made the bed appear small. His muscles rippled and his eyes burned with desire. As naked as he, you were lying sideways on his hairy thigh cradling his thick cock in your palms nowhere interested in watching the screen.

You had a much better alternative.

Balen’s massive shaft stood proud and pulsing, the head leaking precum. You loved his cock; it was huge and filled with veins, the scent of his musk intoxicating. Mouth watering, you licked your lips and placed your hands on his thighs. Slowly, you closed your lips around the wide cockhead, tongue swirling around it, tasting the salty pre-cum that had gathered there. Your boyfriend moaned, his powerful muscles tensing beneath your touch.

“S-slow, slow…hn…” Balen rumbled, his large hand cradling the back of your head. “Or this will end sooner than we both expect.”

“But…hmp… I want to devour you.”

He chuckled at that. “Later. For now I want your warm and wet mouth around my cock while I watch TV.”

“Fine, you horny Minotaur,” you whispered teasingly kissing his balls. “I’ll warm your cock for as long as you like.”

Angling your head, you returned to his perfect dick and took him deeper, inch by inch, feeling the stretch in your jaw. Balen groaned, hips thrusting lightly against you. No matter how much you’d tried, you could only accept just one third of his shaft. He was too long and thick to accommodate. The tip of his cock kissed the back of your throat and you swallowed, gagging slightly at the fullness.

“That’s it, little mate,” he growled, his voice husky and thick with lust. “How good you take me. So good… hnn…”

Your hands wrapped around the part of his cock you couldn’t fit in your mouth and he groaned pleasurable, his large hand cradling the back of your head, keeping you there. You caressed and cupped his swollen balls as you tried to take him deeper, despite the tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. You were cockdrunk, having him so deep in your mouth sent tingles to your belly, making you incredibly wet for him.

You stayed there, cockwarming him with your mouth and at some points, Balen would gently guide you to pull off his cock with a slick sound so you could breathe properly. Meanwhile, you peppered kitten licks on the leaking cockhead and all over his sac, feeling the weight of his huge round balls in your small palms that almost overflowed with them.

You filled your mouth with him again, his cock stretching your lips. The feeling of his shaft filling your mouth, the taste of him, the way his heavy balls rested against your jaw made you all the more determined. So you stayed there, his cock down your throat without pulling out an inch. 

“Fu—uhnnn…ck, you’re amazing,” he sighed, his breathing strained. “Warming your mate’s cock, such a good mate.”

You pulled back to breathe, and he caressed your face, his fingers wiping away the drool that had gathered at the corners of your lips. Then with a gentle nudge of his hips, his cock filed your mouth again. Balen threaded his fingers through your hair, then drew you back, watching the string of saliva connected from your lips to the swollen head of his shaft before thrusting you back down to swallow his cock. He did it again and again, watching at you, his eyes gleaming with lust.

“Pretty mate,” you heard him say throatily.

“Balen…hmnnp,” you could hardly speak with the throbbing minotaur cock in your mouth.

“What is it, love?” Balen asked, guiding you off his cock.

You took a sharp breath. Your cheeks were flushed, your lips swollen. “I wish I could take all of your cock.”

His mouth formed an adoring smile. “You are perfect the way you are. I love you.”

“Love you, too,” you said, licking blatantly a stripe from base to the tip of the cock. Your mouth took him in again, and he let out growl of satisfaction that vibrated through you.

“That’s it, pretty girl. Take it all,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire.

Relaxing your throat, you took him as deep as you could, your hands cradling the rest of his cock like an anchor.

You were aware of Balen moving. He reached out with his free hand and grabbed his phone.

“Gods, you look so beautiful with my dick in your mouth,” he said as he snapped picture after picture. “Your lips stretched, throat full of me… perfect.”

Balen took pictures of you in various angles, groaning at the sight of you. He did that often, he had a full album of indecent photos of you both doing unhinged things that were of course, for his eyes only. You stayed obedient, nursing his cock. With his dick in your mouth, you felt powerful — and a little cockdrunk, your mind hazy with lust.

You wanted him begging and out of control.

So you started pumping him, placing soft, kitten-like licks on the cockhead before diving down on his shaft, so deep that the depth made you gag, tears spilling down your cheeks. Still, you didn’t stop.

With each second you deepthroated him and each tempting swirl of your tongue, Balen’s breathing grew more and more ragged. His thighs quivered, his hairy chest heaving. His cock pulsed in your mouth, the salty pre-cum increasing. You moaned around his length; his moans sent shivers through your own body.

“Annn… close—agh… I’m close,” he groaned, his hips moving in small, desperate thrusts. “You’re gonna make me cum.”

“Want you—mmpff—” you breathed, tongue licking a vein from the base to tip. “Want you to feed me your cum.”

“Swallow it all, mate. Want you to swallow every— drop.”

The words sent a torrent of heat through you so you sucked him harder, tongue working feverishly. Your vision blurred, but all that mattered was Balen. He shuddered hard and tensed to stop his hips from thrusting into your mouth, his cock twitching violently in your mouth. He groaned, clutching the sheets, tearing them as he shot hot, thick ropes of his cum inside your throat.

Fondling his balls, you swallowed fervently.

It was too much but you didn’t want to waste a drop, you wanted his taste across your tongue and down your tummy. He rode his orgasm for what felt like minutes and when he finally pulled out of your mouth, you’d sucked him dry. No cum spilled. Your chest was heaving, your lips swollen, your throat sore. But it was all worth it because Balen had that dreamy look on his handsome bullface that was worth everything.

Cradling your head gently, he kissed you in his own unique way, thrusting his tongue in your mouth, tasting his seed everywhere. His fingers brushed away your tears as he whispered how precious you were and how much he loved you. Then, he went to the kitchen to bring you a bottle of water and helped you take a few sips.

“Thank you, little mate. That was incredible— no more than incredible,” he drawled. “And I shall reward you for it.”

“Balen you don’t have to reward me. I wanted to suck you—”

“And I want to worship your pretty pussy till morning. I want you to writhe and clench around my tongue, your thighs squeezing my head.”

Did you enjoy? What would you like to see next? Reblogs and comments are more than welcome 🖤 Follow for more monster smut!

[star-suh]

Come Kiss Me and Bite Me

Jake Sim x Male Reader

cw: top jake, body worshiping, marking, semi-public sex, sweaty sex, in the gym, cum swallowing, protected sex, musk kink, blowjob, fingering, mutual masturbation.

—

“okay, two more squats and we're done” jake, yn's personal trainer, try to encourage him to finish his set of exercises. today he was exercising his legs so jake took the opportunity to stare and secretly touch his ass with the excuse of “”correcting his posture””.

as jake trained yn his curiosity increased, especially when he saw that juicy ass. the trainer fantasized about fucking him in the gym showers or having wet dreams with him.

“thanks for today jake” yn said wiping the sweat with a towel, “it was very though” he snickered. “it’s okay yn, you did well today” he pauses to drink water “see you tomorrow then”. “yeah, i can wait to start looking like you, with those defined muscles and abs” yn commented, seeing that tight black tank top on him that is showing his erect nipples. “hmmm? do you like my body that much boy?” an idea appearing on jake’s mind, “you can touch them if you want” a cocky smirk plastered on his handsome face.

yn did as he was told, his hands tracing every defined muscle on jake’s body, his arms, his chest, his abs, hell even his legs. when he was checking the latter something caught his eyes, “oh shit you almost poke my eye with that” yn jokes signaling at his trainer’s bulge. both laughed but from jake’s perspective it looked like his dick was on top of yn’s face, something that made him hornier and his bulge bigger. yn kept praising jake, his finger tracing every defined muscle leaving a burning trail sensation on him. “you're touch is so…” jake spoke the thoughts clouding his mind making him incapable of finishing his line. “so what?” yn looked at him with hooded eyes, the pre-cum smell that was leaking from hake's tip hitting him. and as if he was a cat yn caressed the other's bulge with his face, taking in deep breaths of that musky masculine scent.

yn pulled down jake's shorts and underwear, the latter sat on one of the benches spreading his legs so yn can have more space to do wonders with his tongue.

yn attacked jake's shaft roughly, he was hungry for that dick, he didn't wait a second to put it all inside his throat, deepthroating it and spitting the tick saliva on top of it emitting some squelching sounds. while the shaft was inside his mouth, his tongue rubbing the underside of it. “you really know how to work that damn tongue” jake heaved, the pleasure causing him to roll his eyes, whimpers, grunts and swear words coming out of his pretty mouth.

jake grabbed the edges of the bench so hard that his knuckles turned white, he was trying so hard to hold back his load, wanting to give it to yn later but failed at the attempt. his seed went down yn's throat who swallowed it happily, “so sweet” he blurted out.

yn sat on top of jake who puts his dick in between yn's ass cheeks, then with his two hands grabbed each one to squeeze them tight and rubbed his dick in between them, “oh yn, i'm loving this” he murmurs, beads of sweat building on his forehead causing his hair to stick on it making him look hotter. “put it in already jake~” yn loved the feeling of that warm meat on his body leaving his sticky pre-cum mixed with lube and sweat smeared on his ass but he wanted more, he wanted to feel it inside, opening his walls, drilling his way up as deep as it can, filling him up with his manly sperm. “please~” he slurred. he was needy. “mmm are you that desperate for me?” jake jokingly asked. “yeah, please please give it to me” yn begged.

the top put a condom on his shaft and slap it on the bottom's hole. wanting to rile him more, jake put his tip on the hole, slowly introducing it until it was all inside. yn clenched on it as a way to say that he wanted more than the tip. jake pulled it out and did the same again, just the tip inside. yn's eyes were watery, tears threatening to fall down. his pleas were not heared. jake just did as he pleased, continuing to fuck him just with his tip.

yn became a mess, moaning, sweating, body completely flushed and trembling legs. he rested his face on the bench but managed to keep his ass up. jake leaned on top of him and whispered on his ear “look at you, all fucked up and just with my tip. i can't imagine how it would be with all of it inside you” as he finished the phrase he impaled all his meat on yn. he let out a guttural moan, tears rolled down his reddish cheeks, “what the fuck” he cried. jake's thick shaft reaches deep inside, opening him up. “you're gonna rip me apart” yn heaved, trying to get accustomed to the feeling. “that's the idea”.

something about jake was so sensual, his toned body, his lip bites, his facial expressions. man knew how to use his sexyness in his favor.

the top keep drilling yn’s ass, who was with his face still pressed against the bench, mouth open and a pool of drool forming there. “jake h-harder” he murmured. the skin slapping sounds became louder and louder every second. jake not having mercy with the poor man’s ass. once in a while jake pulls out to watch yn’s hole clenching on nothing and then spitting on it to see how it goes down his insides. his eyes filled with lust and a fucking low kinda quite laugh that would melt everyone who heard it.

in a missionary position now yn could appreciate jake’s body more, how his abs contract and relax with each thrust. his body glistening due to the sweat. yn punched jake’s chest with his fists seeing how hard and firm they were, “fuck! i can finally die in peace after seeing you like this” yn said, already cockdrunked. “don't die. i want to keep using you” jake whispered while hugging yn and speeding up his pace.

yn scratched jake’s thrust, the red marks on his back burning thanks to the sweat but jake liked the sensation. “my turn now” jake said and attacked yn's neck, that was like a canvas for him to decorate it with bite marks and hickeys “you look prettier like this”. the sex was so wild and primal that the bench started moving as if it was going to break. they gave in to their carnal desires not caring about anything else. they just wanted to feel each other. “fuck i'm gonna cum” jake said pulling out and discarding the latex. he grabbed both his dick and yn's to jerk off “let's cum together” he purred. they came, both dick spurting cum that landed on yn's chest and torso. some of it even reaching his chin and lips that he obviously licked and hummed, pointing out how delicious it was…

the days continued as if nothing happened between them, everyone who saw them would think it's just a normal relationship between a trainer and trainee, little did they know that jake's training included more than yn’s arms, torso or legs. every night after the gym closes jake trains yn's hole so he can learn how to take dick in all the ways possible.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Enshittification isn’t caused by venture capital

Picks and Shovels is a new, standalone technothriller starring Marty Hench, my two-fisted, hard-fighting, tech-scam-busting forensic accountant. You can pre-order it on my latest Kickstarter, which features a brilliant audiobook read by Wil Wheaton.

Many of us have left the big social media platforms; far more of us wish we could leave them; and even those of us who've escaped from Facebook/Insta and Twitter still spend a lot of time trying to figure out how to get the people we care about off of them, too.

It's lazy and easy to think that our friends who are stuck on legacy platforms run by Zuckerberg and Musk lack the self-discipline to wean themselves off of these services, or lack the perspective to understand why it's so urgent to get away from them, or that their "hacked dopamine loops" have addicted them to the zuckermusk algorithms. But if you actually listen to the people who've stayed behind, you'll learn that the main reason our friends stay on legacy platforms is that they care about the other people there more than they hate Zuck or Musk.

They rely on them because they're in a rare-disease support group; or they all coordinate their kids' little league carpools there; or that's where they stay in touch with family and friends they left behind when they emigrated; or they're customers or the audience for creative labor.

All those people might want to leave, too, but it's really hard to agree on where to go, when to go, and how to re-establish your groups when you get somewhere else. Economists call this the "collective action problem." This problem creates "switching costs" – a lot of stuff you'll have to live without if you switch from legacy platforms to new ones. The collective action problem is hard to solve and the switching costs are very high:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/10/29/how-to-leave-dying-social-media-platforms/

That's why people stay behind – not because they lack perspective, or self-discipline, or because their dopamine loops have been hacked by evil techbro sorcerers who used Big Data to fashion history's first functional mind-control ray. They are locked in by real, material things.

Big Tech critics who attribute users' moral failings or platforms' technical prowess to the legacy platforms' "stickiness" are their own worst enemies. These critics have correctly identified that legacy platforms are a serious problem, but have totally failed to understand the nature of that problem or how to fix it. Thankfully, more and more critics are coming to understand that lock-in is the root of the problem, and that anti-lock-in measures like interoperability can address it.

But there's another major gap in the mainstream critique of social media. Critics of zuckermuskian media claim those services are so terrible because they're for-profit entities, capitalist enterprises hitched to the logic of extraction and profit above all else. The problem with this claim is that it doesn't explain the changes to these services. After all, the reason so many of us got on Twitter and Facebook and Instagram is because they used to be a lot of fun. They were useful. They were even great at times.

When tech critics fail to ask why good services turn bad, that failure is just as severe as the failure to ask why people stay when the services rot.

Now, the guy who ran Facebook when it was a great way to form communities and make friends and find old friends is the same guy who who has turned Facebook into a hellscape. There's very good reason to believe that Mark Zuckerberg was always a creep, and he took investment capital very early on, long before he started fucking up the service. So what gives? Did Zuck get a brain parasite that turned him evil? Did his investors get more demanding in their clamor for dividends?

If that's what you think, you need to show your working. Again, by all accounts, Zuck was a monster from day one. Zuck's investors – both the VCs who backed him early and the gigantic institutional funds whose portfolios are stuffed with Meta stock today – are not patient sorts with a reputation for going easy on entrepreneurs who leave money on the table. They've demanded every nickel since the start.

What changed? What caused Zuck to enshittify his service? And, even more importantly for those of us who care about the people locked into Facebook's walled gardens: what stopped him from enshittifying his services in the "good old days?"

At its root, enshittification is a theory about constraints. Companies pursue profit at all costs, but while you may be tempted to focus on the "at all costs" part of that formulation, you musn't neglect the "profits" part. Companies don't pursue unprofitable actions at all costs – they only pursue the plans that they judge are likely to yield profits.

When companies face real competitors, then some enshittificatory gambits are unprofitable, because they'll drive your users to competing platforms. That's why Zuckerberg bought Instagram: he had been turning the screws on Facebook users, and when Instagram came along, millions of those users decided that they hated Zuck more than they loved their friends and so they swallowed the switching costs and defected to Instagram. In an ill-advised middle-of-the-night memo to his CFO, Zuck defended spending $1b on Instagram on the grounds that it would recapture those Facebook escapees:

https://www.theverge.com/2020/7/29/21345723/facebook-instagram-documents-emails-mark-zuckerberg-kevin-systrom-hearing

A company that neutralizes, buys or destroys its competitors can treat its users far worse – invade their privacy, cheap out on moderation and anti-spam, etc – without losing their business. That's why Zuck's motto is "it is better to buy than to compete":

https://www.trtworld.com/magazine/zuckerberg-its-better-to-buy-than-compete-is-facebook-a-monopoly-42243

Of course, as a leftist, I know better than to count on markets as a reliable source of corporate discipline. Even more important than market discipline is government discipline, in the form of regulation. If Zuckerberg feared fines for privacy violations, or moderation failures, or illegal anticompetitive mergers, or fraudulent advertising systems that rip off publishers and advertisers, or other forms of fraud (like the "pivot to video"), he would treat his users better. But Facebook's rise to power took place during the second half of the neoliberal era, when the last shreds of regulatory muscle that survived the Reagan revolution were being devoured by GW Bush and Obama (and then Trump).

As cartels and monopolies took over our economy, most government regulators were neutered and captured. Public agencies were stripped of their powers or put in harness to attack small companies, customers, and suppliers who got in the way of monopolists' rent-extraction. That meant that as Facebook grew, Zuckerberg had less and less to fear from government enforcers who might punish him for enshittification where the markets failed to do so.

But it's worse than that, because Zuckerberg and other tech monopolists figured out how to harness "IP" law to get the government to shut down third-party technology that might help users resist enshittification. IP law is why you can't make a privacy-protecting ad-blocker for an app (and why companies are so desperate to get you to use their apps rather than the open web, and why apps are so dismally enshittified). IP law is why you can't make an alternative client that blocks algorithmic recommendations. IP law is why you can't leave Facebook for a new service and run a scraper that imports your waiting Facebook messages into a different inbox. IP law is why you can't scrape Facebook to catalog the paid political disinformation the company allows on the platform:

https://locusmag.com/2020/09/cory-doctorow-ip/

IP law's growth has coincided with Facebook's ascendancy – the bigger Facebook got, the more tempting it was to interoperators who might want to plug new code into it to protect Facebook users, and the more powers Facebook had to block even the most modest improvements to its service. That meant that Facebook could enshittify even more, without worrying that it would drive users to take unilateral, permanent action that would deprive it of revenue, like blocking ads. Once ad-blocking is illegal (as it is on apps), there's no reason not to make ads as obnoxious as you want.

Of course, many Facebook employees cared about their users, and for most of the 21st century, those workers were a key asset for Facebook. Tech workers were in short supply until just a couple years ago, when the platforms started round after round of brutal layoffs – 260,000 in 2023, another 150,000+ in 2024. Facebook workers may be furious about Zuckerberg killing content moderation, but he's not worried about them quitting – not with a half-million skilled tech workers out there, hunting for jobs. Fuck 'em. Let 'em quit:

https://www.404media.co/its-total-chaos-internally-at-meta-right-now-employees-protest-zuckerbergs-anti-lgbtq-changes/

This is what changed: the collapse of market, government, and labor constraints, and IP law's criminalization of disenshittifying, interoperable add-ons. This is why Zuck, an eternal creep, is now letting his creep flag fly so proudly today. Not because he's a worse person, but because he understands that he can hurt his users and workers to benefit his shareholders without facing any consequences. Zuckerberg 2025 isn't the most evil Zuck, he's the most unconstrained Zuck.

Same goes for Twitter. I mean, obviously, there's been a change in management at Twitter – the guy who's enshittifying it today isn't the guy who enshittified it prior to last year. Musk is speedrunning the enshittification curve, and yet Twitter isn't collapsing. Why not? Because Musk is insulated from consequences for fucking up – he's got a huge cushion of wealth, he's got advertisers who are desperate to reach his users, he's got users who can't afford to leave the service, he's got IP law that he can use to block interoperators who might make it easier to migrate to a better service. He was always a greedy, sadistic asshole. Now he's an unconstrained greedy, sadistic asshole. Musk 2025 isn't a worse person than Musk 2020. He's just more free to act on his evil impulses than he was in years gone by.

These are the two factors that make services terrible: captive users, and no constraints. If your users can't leave, and if you face no consequences for making them miserable (not solely their departure to a competitor, but also fines, criminal charges, worker revolts, and guerrilla warfare with interoperators), then you have the means, motive and opportunity to turn your service into a giant pile of shit.

That's why we got Jack Welch and his acolytes when we did. There were always evil fuckers just like them hanging around, but they didn't get to run GM until Ronald Reagan took away the constraints that would have punished them for turning GE into a giant pile of shit. Every economy is forever a-crawl with parasites and monsters like these, but they don't get to burrow into the system and colonize it until policymakers create rips they can pass through.

In other words, the profit motive itself is not sufficient to cause enshittification – not even when a for-profit firm has to answer to VCs who would shut down the company or fire its leadership in the face of unsatisfactory returns. For-profit companies chase profit. The enshittifying changes to Facebook and Twitter are cruel, but the cruelty isn't the point: the point is profits. If the fines – or criminal charges – Facebook faced for invading our privacy exceeded the ad-targeting revenue it makes by doing so, it would stop spying on us. Facebook wouldn't like it. Zuck would hate it. But he'd do it, because he spies on us to make money, not because he's a voyeur.

To stop enshittification, it is not necessary to eliminate the profit motive – it is only necessary to make enshittification unprofitable.

This is not to defend capitalism. I'm not saying there's a "real capitalism" that's good, and a "crony capitalism" or "monopoly capitalism" that's bad. All flavors of capitalism harm working people and seek to shift wealth and power from the public and democratic institutions to private interests. But that doesn't change the fact that there are, indeed, different flavors of capitalism, and they have different winners and losers. Capitalists who want to sell apps on the App Store or reach customers through Facebook are technofeudalism's losers, while Apple, Facebook, Google, and other Big Tech companies are technofeudalism's great winners.

Smart leftism pays attention to these differences, because they represent the potential fault lines in capitalism's coalition. These people all call themselves capitalists, they all give money and support to political movements that seek to crush worker power and human rights – but when the platforms win, the platforms' business customers lose. They are irreconcilably on different sides of a capitalism-v-capitalism fight that is every bit as important to them as the capitalism-v-socialism fight.

I'm saying that it's good praxis to understand these divisions in capitalism, because then we can exploit those differences to make real, material gains for human thriving and worker rights. Lumping all for-profit businesses together as identical and irredeemable is bad tactics.

Legacy social media is at a turning point. Two new systems built on open standards have emerged as a credible threat to the zuckermuskian model: Mastodon (built on Activitypub) and Bluesky (built on Atproto). The former is far more mature, with a huge network of federated servers run by all different kinds of institutions, from hobbyists to corporations, and it's overseen by a nonprofit. The latter has far more users, and is a VC-backed corporate entity, and while it is hypothetically federatable, there are no Bluesky services apart from the main one that you can leave for if Bluesky starts to enshittify.

That means that Bluesky has a ton of captive users, and has the lack of constraint that characterizes the enshittified legacy platforms it has tempted tens of millions of users away from. This is not a good place to be in, because it means that if the current management choose to enshittify Bluesky, they can, and it will be profitable. It also means that the company's VCs understand that they could replace the current management and replace them with willing enshittifiers and make more money.

This is why Bluesky is in a dangerous place: not because it is backed by VCs, not because it is a for-profit entity, but because it has captive users and no constraints. It's a great party in a sealed building with no fire exits:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/12/14/fire-exits/#graceful-failure-modes

Last week, I endorsed a project called Free Our Feeds, whose goals include hacking some fire exits into Bluesky by force majeure – that is, independently standing up an alternative Bluesky server that people can retreat to if Bluesky management changes, or has a change of heart:

https://pluralistic.net/2025/01/14/contesting-popularity/#everybody-samba

For some Mastodon users, Free Our Feeds is dead on arrival – why bother trying to make a for-profit project safer for its users when Mastodon is a perfectly good nonprofit alternative? Why waste millions developing a standalone Bluesky server rather than spending that money improving things in the Fediverse.

I believe strongly in improving the Fediverse, and I believe in adding the long-overdue federation to Bluesky. That's because my goal isn't the success of the Fediverse – it's the defeat of enshtitification. My answer to "why spend money fixing Bluesky?" is "why leave 20 million people at risk of enshittification when we could not only make them safe, but also create the toolchain to allow many, many organizations to operate a whole federation of Bluesky servers?" If you care about a better internet – and not just the Fediverse – then you should share this goal, too.

Many of the Fediverse's servers are operated by for-profit entities, after all. One of the Fediverse's largest servers (Threads) is owned by Meta. Threads users who feel the bite of Zuckerberg's decision to encourage homophobic, xenophobic and transphobic hate speech will find it easy to escape from Threads: they can set up on any Fediverse server that is federated with Threads and they'll be able to maintain their connections with everyone who stays behind.

The existence of for-profit servers in the Fediverse does not ruin the Fediverse (though I wouldn't personally use one of them). The fact that multiple neo-Nazi groups run their own Mastodon servers does not ruin the Fediverse (though I certainly won't use their servers). Not even the fact that Donald Trump's Truth Social is a Mastodon server does anything to ruin the Fediverse (not using that one, either).

This is the strength of federated, federatable social media – it disciplines enshittifiers by lowering switching costs, and if enshittifiers persist, it makes it easy for users to escape unshitted, because they don't have to solve the collective action problem. Any user can go to any server at any time and stay in touch with everyone else.

Mastodon was born free: free code, with free federation as a priority. Bluesky was not: it was born within a for-profit public benefit corporation whose charter offers some defenses against enshittification, but lacks the most decisive one: the federation that would let users escape should escape become necessary.

The fact that Mastodon was born free is quite unusual in the annals of the fight for a free internet. Most of the internet was born proprietary and had freedom foisted upon it. Unix was born within Bell Labs, property of the convicted monopolist AT&T. The GNU/Linux project set it free.

SMB was born proprietary within corporate walls of Microsoft, another corporate monopolist. SAMBA set it free.

The Office file formats were also born proprietary within Microsoft's walled garden: they were set free by hacker-activists who fought through a thick bureaucratic morass and Microsoft fuckery (including literally refusing to allow chairs to be set for advocates for Open Document Format) to give us formats that underlie everything from LibreOffice to Google Docs, Office365 to your web browser.

There is nothing unusual, in other words, about hacking freedom into something that is proprietary or just insufficiently free. That's totally normal. It's how we got almost everything great about computers.

Mastodon's progenitors should be praised for ensuring their creation was born free – but the fact that Bluesky isn't free enough is no reason to turn our back on it. Our response to anything that locks in the people we care about must be to shatter those locks, not abandon the people bound by the locks because they didn't heed to our warnings.

Audre Lorde is far smarter than me, but when she wrote that "the master's tools will never dismantle the master's house," she was wrong. There is no toolset better suited to conduct an orderly dismantling of a structure than the tools that built it. You can be sure it'll have all the right screwdriver bits, wrenches, hexkeys and sockets.

Bluesky is fine. It has features I significantly prefer to Mastodon's equivalent. Composable moderation is amazing, both a technical triumph and a triumph of human-centered design:

https://bsky.social/about/blog/4-13-2023-moderation

I hope Mastodon adopts those features. If someone starts a project to copy all of Bluesky's best features over to Mastodon, I'll put my name to the crowdfunding campaign in a second.

But Mastodon has one feature that Bluesky sorely lacks – the federation that imposes antienshittificatory discipline on companies and offers an enshittification fire-exit for users if the discipline fails. It's long past time that someone copied that feature over to Bluesky.

Check out my Kickstarter to pre-order copies of my next novel, Picks and Shovels!

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2025/01/20/capitalist-unrealism/#praxis

[themagicseal17]

Monster Mishaps.

NSFW warning. 18+

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The bunker door slammed shut behind Sam, the metallic echo reverberating through the empty halls. His breath came in ragged bursts, his chest heaving as he leaned against the wall for support. The hunt had gone sideways—badly. Some kind of creature, some thing they hadn’t even identified properly, had lashed out at him with a toxic mist. It didn’t burn, didn’t sting, but it lingered, crawling under his skin like wildfire. And now, here he was, practically stumbling into the bunker, his body thrumming with something he couldn’t control.

“Fuck,” he groaned, running a trembling hand through his sweat-damp hair. His long legs carried him toward the war room, but every step felt heavier than the last. His jeans were too tight, constricting him in all the wrong ways, and his heart raced like he’d just run a marathon. But this wasn’t exhaustion. This wasn’t fear. This was need. Raw, unrelenting, clawing at him from the inside out.

He found you sitting at the table, poring over old maps and texts. You glanced up, concern immediately etching itself across your face as you took in his disheveled state.

“Sam?” you started, but he cut you off before you could finish.

“I need—” His voice broke, low and desperate, and he stepped closer to you. Too close. You could feel the heat radiating off him, smell the musk of sweat and blood clinging to his clothes. He looked wrecked, his hazel eyes dark and pleading, his lips slightly parted as if he couldn’t get enough air. “I need you. Please. I can’t—”

Your brows furrowed as you stood, reaching out to steady him. “What happened? Are you hurt?”

He shook his head frantically, his hands gripping your arms like he might collapse without you. “No, no, it’s not—it’s not like that. It’s... something hit me. Some kind of... aphrodisiac or some shit. I don’t know what it is, but I can’t think straight. I can’t—fuck, I can’t stop thinking about you.” His voice cracked on the last word, shaky and raw, and he pressed his forehead against yours. “Please. I can’t take it anymore.”

You hesitated for only a moment, taking in the desperation in his eyes, the way his whole body trembled with barely restrained want. Then, slowly, you nodded. “Okay. Let’s get you cleaned up first.”

But Sam wasn’t having it. His hands slid down to your waist, pulling you flush against him, and you could feel the hard press of his arousal through his jeans. “No. Now. I need you now.”

His mouth crashed onto yours almost violently, his kiss hungry and insistent. There was no finesse, no teasing—just pure, unrestrained need. His tongue swept into your mouth, claiming you as his hands roamed your body, gripping and pulling like he couldn’t get enough. You moaned into the kiss, tangling your fingers in his hair as he guided you backward until the edge of the table dug into your thighs.

You pulled away just long enough to shove his flannel shirt off his shoulders, then tugged his T-shirt over his head. His chest heaved, his skin flushed and glistening with sweat, and he let out a low groan when your hands traced the hard planes of his abdomen. “Fuck, you’re killing me,” he muttered, his voice rough and strained.

“Good,” you whispered, smirking as you unbuckled his belt with deliberate slowness. He growled, impatient, and grabbed your wrists, pushing them away so he could yank his jeans and boxers down himself. His cock sprang free, thick and hard, already leaking with pre-cum. Your breath hitched at the sight, and he didn’t waste any time hoisting you onto the table.

You wrapped your legs around his hips, drawing him closer as he kissed you again, deep and consuming. His hands gripped your ass, lifting you slightly as he aligned himself with your entrance. “Tell me you want this,” he begged, his voice breaking. “Tell me—”

“I want this,” you assured him, your voice steady despite the fire burning in your veins. You reached between you, guiding him to where you needed him most. “Take what you need, Sam.”

With a guttural groan, he thrust into you in one smooth motion, filling you completely. Both of you cried out, the sound echoing through the empty bunker. Sam’s hips began moving immediately, setting a punishing pace as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. His breath was hot against your skin, his teeth grazing your collarbone as he muttered, “Fuck, you feel so good. So fucking perfect.”

You clenched around him, drawing a strangled moan from his throat, and his rhythm faltered for a moment. “Don’t stop,” you urged, digging your nails into his back. “Give it to me.”

He obeyed, snapping his hips harder, faster, each thrust driving deeper until you were seeing stars. The table creaked beneath you, the sound mingling with the wet slap of skin on skin. Sam’s hands moved to your breasts, kneading and pinching as you arched into his touch. “You’re so beautiful like this,” he murmured, his voice reverent even as his movements turned primal. “Taking me so well. Fuck, I love you. I love you so much.”

The words sent a shiver down your spine, and you tightened your legs around him, urging him on. “Come for me, Sam,” you whispered, curling your fingers in his hair. “Let go.”

He shuddered, his entire body tensing as he spilled inside you, his release hot and endless. He gasped your name, burying his face in your shoulder as his hips stuttered against yours. But before he could recover, you rolled him onto his back, straddling him with a grin.

“Oh no,” you teased, rocking your hips against him just enough to make him twitch. “We’re not done yet.”

Sam’s eyes widened, his breath hitching as you began to move. “Fuck,” he groaned, his hands gripping your hips like he might float away otherwise. “You’re gonna ruin me.”

“That’s the idea,” you purred, leaning down to capture his lips in another searing kiss. His cock hardened inside you once more, and you set a slow, grinding pace designed to drive him out of his mind. His hands roamed your body, squeezing and stroking every inch he could reach, and soon he was writhing beneath you, cursing and begging for more.

“God, please,” he whimpered, his voice cracking. “I can’t—I’m gonna come again. Fuck, I need—”

You silenced him with a kiss, your movements growing faster, more demanding. His whole body trembled as he came undone a second time, spilling inside you with a broken cry. You rode him through it, refusing to let him catch his breath until he was completely spent, his chest heaving and his eyes glazed with pleasure.

Collapsing beside him, you traced lazy patterns on his chest as he tried to regain his composure. “Better?” you asked, your tone light but laced with satisfaction.

Sam chuckled weakly, turning his head to look at you. “You’re gonna be the death of me,” he said, though the smile on his face told you he wouldn’t have it any other way.

[romanarose]

Worship

Logan Howlett x fem!reader

Join my taglist : Masterlist

Buy Me A Coffee : Kofi : Go Fund Me

Summary: Worshiping Logan's cock through his jeans.

Warnings: Cock worship, premature cumming in pants, belt worship (?????), d/s stuff, daddy kink, ruining make up, little bit of a musk kink?

A/n: just a short little blurb bc I'm horny. but its sweet tbh

Logan stood at the doorway, looking down at the sight before him. He didn't require you to be kneeling when he came home, but god was it a treat when you did.

"Such a good girl..." He mutters, shutting the door behind him before any of the neighbors saw such a pretty sight. It's even better when you hand him a cold beer from beside you. "God damn, how did I get so lucky?" It's not a twist off, so Logan cracks it open on his teeth, spitting to bottle cap to the side as he took you in.

Technically, the correct form was for you to be head down until he told you too look at him, but right now? You were just so fucking cute. The way you grinned up at him with the big eyes and bright smile made his heart swell... but the cute teddy and panties you wore had the same effect on his cock. Logan really didn't understand how he got so luck, and as he sipped on the cold beer after a long day of logging, all his stressed washed away when he saw his pretty little girl's mouth watching staring at his pants.

"You wanna taste, princess?" When you nod eagerly, Logan beckons you forward with with fingers, smirking at the excited way you crawl to him.

"Can I touch you, daddy?"

"Go ahead, bub."

Giggling and giddy, you reach out for his cock beginning to tent in his jeans, but he stops you. His hand holds up as a stop sign and the other holds a beer, his face quirking up at your display. "Slow, babydoll."

You obey, pawing at the bulge in his jeans. Logan groans as you bring him to full aching hardness. You loved his cock, loved watching the reaction it had to you. Your sweet lips plant a little kiss on the fly, then you nuzzle against the fabric, sighing contently while you remain steady by holding his thick thighs.

"I love you." You whisper directly to his pants, and Logan chuckles as he downs the last of his beer. Yeah, you were talking to his dick, not him, but he knew you loved him too. The beer bottle gets tossed into the couch, and Logan cards his fingers into your hair as you continue to nuzzle again his clothed cock, mouthing over it and breathing the hot air onto him. Logan could propose right here, honestly, make his precious girl his forever...

But he had fun plans for you right now.

His cock was aching, straining at the view before him. What more could a man ask for? A cold beer and the prettiest girl in the world worshiping his throbbing member with the biggest smile on her face. A wet spot was growing on his jeans, both from you slobbering on him and from the pre-cum leaking.

You sit up a little, stretching your legs, yes, but also a particular goal in mind. His belt. You kiss that big belt buckle, still palming his erection and his balls, but licking at metal object.

"Fucking love you." You take a big wiff, smelling the sweat from a hard days work and eyes rolling back in your head. "Always taking care of me, providing for me..." You lick a stripe up that belt buckle, getting a little bit of his shirt and a taste of his belly.

Logan fists your hair into his hands, rubbing your sweet, pretty face on him. You don't protest to being shoved into his stomach, feeling the hard muscles under a little bit of stomach, licking and smelling as he brought you down, careful not to hurt your face, back to his crotch. Your makeup was smearing, blotches of red and black and pink, and all the coloring you used for your face, swirling around his jeans and your skin. He loved it. Logan secretly hoping the lipstick would stain, that he could walk to the lumber yard with evidence of your lips on him... but that might embarrass you, and he didn't want to embarrass you.

As he controlled the pace, Logan groans above you, forcing stimulation on his throbbing dick. Logan, as always, showings your with praise.

"My good little slut, always willing to do what I say, to make me happy."

"Just letting me -oh fuck- letting me use your face, not even fucking it just, just rutting into it like a pillow."

He humps your face even as he controls the movements, using you like you were a lifeless fuck toy but loving you like you were the most precious gem.

His moans turned into whimpers, and as Logan began stuttering his degrading praises, you knew what was happening.

"P-pretty girl, my pretty... girl.... shits, shit, shit, fuuuuuuccckkk!" he continued to rub you on his cock, cumming inside his jeans and dragging out his pleasure as long as possible

Logan lets go, and you fall back on your butt, giggling. Your lover drops to the ground on his knees, exhausted but smiling, so you wrap your arms around him and pull him down. The carpet is decent but the pillow you were kneeling on barely fits the two of you, so you opt to lay on his chest while you rest.

"I've never once cum in my pants. Gotta be a special kind of slut to make me do that shit."

You smile up at him, your face a complete mess but so, so happy and pretty. "Yeah, but I'm your special slut."

He tips your face up to get a little kiss onto those sweet lips.

"Yeah, you are. My special slut."

***********

Thank you friends!!!!!!

I'm gonna tag some people i thought might enjoy but please dont feel pressure!!! if you wanna be tagged going forward, check out the tag list linked above!!!

Logan Howlett dark series

Logan Howlett x reader x wade wilson

Dark Logan and dark Scott Summers x reader

@miraclesabound @missdictatorme @princessanglophile @poeedameronn @del-ightfulling @fandxmslxt69

[neuvilette-tea-party]

₊ ˙ ⊹Steb x F!reader₊ ˙ ⊹

Headcanons Pre-Relationship part 2 SFW

Part 1

Again, I do not understand the logistics of this format. Starts as headcanon and finishes as a fanfic!

Request open for Best boy Steb <3

Steb pulls all-nighters with you when your exam to become a proper medic approaches, he writes tests and quizzes for you to take, preparing you a warm cup of coffee while your brain steams with focus. He takes time to correct them himself and highlights what you should focus on and what subject you mastered. 

He takes turns with the other Senior Medics to supervise revision sessions with the other junior medics at the barracks. He gives time to everyone but takes a little more time for you as your mentor. It’s less fun when it’s not him supervising the group you realize... You always push yourself more when he is around to show him how far you’ve gone under his tutelage. 

You want to make him proud! Sometimes you wonder if you work so hard for your own accomplishment or just for him to smile proudly your way...  

As stress rises in your veins he keeps an eye on your caffeine consumption, your sleep, if you eat properly, if you exercise enough... 

Steb takes out his collection of past papers he studied for his own exam to help you, he clocks you on the tracks, on the obstacles race, and meticulously notes down the various results of your training to make graphs for you to study after. 

With his mutism and stern expression you could think he is cold and haughty but he takes a lot of his free time to help and support you, and you are infinitely grateful for that. Rare are the mentors who go so far for their juniors. 

When he goes on a mission with Loris and Maddie you get bored and feel unmotivated... You need to feel his presence around, hear him moving his chess or Go pieces on a board, and the exasperated sighs of his defeated adversaries. 

Or just... Smell his salted musk when he walks beside you... You mentally slap yourself!  

Why is it so hard when he is not around ??! You let your face fall against your open book with a long tired grumble 

You immediately light up when he finally returns to the barracks safe and sound! Relieved and overjoyed. 

Steb will let you punch and kick his boxing mitts to your heart’s content and spare with you after each study session to relieve tension. Maddie grumbles that you stopped sparing with her and that each time she proposes you approve and go straight to Steb to invite him to join. You have no defense against her accusation. 

Do you really do that? Surely she’s wrong! 

Judo, boxing, taekwondo, kick-boxing, ect... You enter the ring together to throw yourself at each other, making the other fall or give up. Steb demonstrates impressive strength in those moments, locking you in his grasp and lifting you up to make you roll over his shoulder and back so easily that you start finding it ridiculous and frankly a tad insulting sometimes! It’s true you saw him supporting Loris’ weight several times without help. But still! 

But the most complicated for you to manage is when he ends up on top of you, his entire body pressed against yours, counting the regular 5 seconds to announce the round’s victor. He is so close you can smell his musk going straight to your head... making you gulp. 

His body is so pleasantly warm too... Maybe you should not think that when your mentor is pressed against you... 

You leave the ring exhausted and with muscles screaming. Steb notices and gently massages your shoulder, pin-points your muscle knots, and applies expert pressure to make them disappear. You cannot help but moan with relief, his touch is nothing short of magical and immediately all your tension melts away. 

When you turn to thank him you discover his cheeks tinted with a rosy shade. Loris asked him if he had a fever later in the evening. 

Steb is patiently waiting for you at the barracks doors to wish you luck when the exam is here, his hand on your shoulder and a tight cheering smile. You smile at him and place your hand on his gently “Whether I succeed or not, I could not have gone so far without your help, Steb! Thank you so much!” 

Whether pleased or traumatized by that touch, he is for sure bewildered by that sudden proximity.  

You hug Maddie and do your super secret handshake with Loris, Steb doesn’t lose a crumb of those two interactions. He feels strangely... displeased about it, almost... jealous. He observes his hand, feeling the ghost of your touch lingering. 

He keeps you in his mind during the examination, silently cheering you in his mind, losing track of the conversations with Maddie during their patrols. He knows which trials happen on which day, the precise hours, and even who the judges are. He had to refuse a position as a judge because you participated in this year’s examination, but he wanted to be here to see you perform!   

You’re allowed one call in the evening after the exam and before dinner and you do not call your family, nor your friends. You call Steb. 

He is eating in the canteen when someone warns him that someone’s on the phone for him. Him! The one who never utters a word! He picks up the phone with questions but instantly recognizes your respiration. It is ingrained in his memory. 

“...Hi, Steb!” You finally manage to articulate with your heart drumming so hard you are sure he can hear it through the phone. “...Hi.” He breathe back, feeling a bit gauche all of a sudden, but also very light. “I don’t want to take too much of your free time, I just wanted to retell you my day and how the trial went!” you explain with an audible smile in your voice. 

This is a delightful sound to his ears, he cannot refrain his cheek scales from waving. 

He doesn’t speak, only revels in your voice. He hums in response, signaling you that he listens to whatever you’re saying, leaning against the wall, hanging at each of your words, drinking any sound escaping your lips. Soon, too soon, you must hang out but you promise to call him back tomorrow. “Promise?” is the only word he said during that entire conversation, but by all the Gods of Runeterra he means this one. “Yes, I promise.” 

“The call was only for you?!” Maddie demands. It only now occurs to Steb that you did not ask him to bring Maddie or Loris to the phone... Nor did it even cross his mind! He shrugs at her, keeping the memory of your voice close to his heart while she grumbles. Loris, ever the diplomat, only asks Steb to transmit his greetings to you if you call back. 

You call him each day and each day he grows more and more impatient to hear your voice once more, your absence getting intolerable to him. 

He isn’t feeling like himself, like a piece of him is missing ... He is as stern as usual, but his ears hang unusually low like his shoulders, breaking the usually straight line of his posture. 

He fiddles with his chess pawns instead of placing them, reads the same paragraph several times without noticing, isn’t interested in finding another card game partner, and catches his mind deriving towards your face and the musical notes of your laughs without his consent... Sometimes he turns to look behind him when he doesn’t hear your footsteps at his side, forgetting you are not here. With him... 

Maddie and Loris look at him with circumspection while he stirs his dish with no intention to eat. “How much time since the exams started?” She asks, “6 days?” Loris responds, “Do you think he will survive the 3 weeks?”. She winces, unsure. They look at him suddenly standing up and heading towards the phone room in anticipation of your call. “He tries to hide it but he always has a struck dumb sparkle in his eyes when he comes back!” She comments in a truther tone, “He is hopeless at that point.”, “You are harsh Maddie. He has the face of a blessed man.” Loris retorts “I wonder more if (Y/n) Is aware...”, Maddie fixes the door Steb went through, squinting, “...No. I do not think so. He is too reserved to let it transpire.”, “He seems pretty transparent right now...” Loris notes. 

Steb comes back 45 min later with a dying smile on his lips but unable to hide his sparkling eyes. Maddie observes him silently before proposing, “You should Take (Y/n) on a date Steb! I know a superb bar with secret bedrooms, if you come from me the owner will make you a price!” Steb stops dead in his movements, his hand on the back of his chair, not even seated while he fixes her, mouth agape. He slams his hands on the table his ears shaking like a leaf, his cheeks fins undulating while a red shade spreads on his cheek.  

He tries to look offended, outraged even... But for now, he just looks busted! Maddie never lets that down, reminding him every day, and keeping him on his toes with a satisfied grin. Finally some tea on the Vastaya, she was starting to feel parched with all his secrecy and modesty. 

Maddie throws herself at you at the end of the third week, squeezing you so hard she lifts you up in the air, giving a discreet side eye at Steb, taunting him. You yelp with the lack of air in your lungs, “Hi, Maddie! I missed you too!”, “Oh, we were DYING to have you back, sweet thing. Someone left themself rot in despair!” She drops, grinning, while Steb raises an eyebrow at that comment. You chuckle together as she puts you down. You do the secret handshake with Loris before embracing him too, “I missed you, gremlin.” He lets you know gently, “Me too, Big Man!”. You turn to Steb with a beating heart, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, refraining from a big idiotic smile and a stupid blissful giggle to be near your... The Aquatic Vastaya, you correct yourself in your mind. 

You’re about to greet him politely when Maddie puts her elbow on his shoulder to lean on him with a satisfied grin, “Steb is desperate to ask you something.” Steb frowns at her, making her grin even more, “Don’t you, crickets?” She laughs as Steb gently pushes her away from him, Loris puts a finger against his mouth, pulling her towards the inside of the building to leave you both alone.  

You clasp your hands behind your back, feeling giddy in front of the tall man of your dreams. He looks at you silently like he does not know what to do with himself, rolling his hands into fists and relaxing them several times while he clears his throat. ‘’I do not have the results yet, if that’s what you want to know.’’ You explain with a laugh, feeling your body temperature skyrocketing just by his mere presence. 

Dear gods how you missed him, you realize. Steb blinks his third eyelids, letting his gaze detail your face that you feel growing hotter by the second. He suddenly gasps, noticing something. He tilts your head gently with his delicate hands and brushes a fresh cut on your cheek. You smile, ‘’My medal for the obstacle race in the woods! A branch slapped me.’’ You feel the tips of his fingers tracing the shallow cut almost tenderly, his worry visible on his face as the tips of his ears twitch. He opens his chest pouch and applies a band-aid on the ridiculously shallow cut like it was gushing out blood. You snigger as he lets the tips of his fingers trace your face from the cut to your chin, concern brewing in his ocean eyes. 

“I am ready for missions once again thanks to you!” You exclaim warmly, making him smile a bit, his cheek fins waving. “So what did you want to ask?” you refocus the moment. He blinks his third eyelid and takes a card off his chest pocket that he hands you. “Mmmmmh... Oh! An exposition cafe!” You read, “I never went to this one! You want to see the exposition with me?”. Steb nods, “And why would you want that?” You nudge him with a grin, “To celebrate my survival?” 

Steb feels his heart sprinting, he is not yet ready to face his sentiments and even less reveal them to you, whatever they are... If you pry too much, he might crumble. 

“Count me in, I love testing new cafes.” You bury your hopes behind a flashing smile, you’re probably imagining things... Your sweet mentor probably already has someone! You do not know if he noticed but you saw several people fawning at him in his back... How could you be mad at them for that? 

You’ll go as friends, and that is already nice! No need to stress yourself. 

“I can’t believe you really gave him the card of that love hotel posing as a cafe...” Loris chastises Maddie, “You should thank me! He was pitiful during those three weeks, he needs to make a move! You saw yourself how (Y/n) was looking at him, I say we’ll soon have interesting news, all thanks to ME! You are welcome, big guy!” She nudges him, internally praying for you both to not fuck it up and ruin her fun... 

[another-lost-mc]

Oral Distraction Scenarios | LUCIFER, LEVIATHAN, SATAN and BEELZEBUB 2.6k words | NSFW | gn!Reader | Smutty Content warnings: Oral sex as stress relief, some hurt/comfort, dom/sub undertones (squinting @ Lucifer), demon form mentioned (Levi), dirty talk, suggestive comments.

LUCIFER

Lucifer humors you when he lets you push his chair away from his desk. By the time you kneel at his feet, he’s already leaning his chin on his hand and smirking down at you.

“Make this worth my while,” he challenges you. When you put your hands on his knees and slide your palms up his thighs, he spreads his legs to make more room for you. You push his thighs apart even more just to prove a point, even though you know he’s keeping track of all your moments of bratty defiance for later.

His cock is already hard and straining against his slacks by the time you unbuckle his belt and pull down his zipper with your teeth. You nuzzle against his cock through his silk boxer briefs and feel the hint of dampness from his leaking tip. You glance at his face as you pull his cock free. He’s staring at you with dark eyes and he’s still like a predator. You lick the wet head of his cock and slide your lips down his shaft, but even with his cock in your mouth, it still feels like he has all the power.

“You were worried I was working too much, but you just wanted an excuse to suck my cock, didn’t you?” he asks you, but his teasing façade cracks. His voice is a bit breathier than usual, and he bites his lip to muffle his groans. One of his hands is clenched on his armrest while the other cradles the back of your head. It’s a firm weight on your neck to encourage the slow, wet glide of your lips; he’s not pushing or pulling you faster or deeper than you want to go.

One of your hands steadies his cock while you draw him deep into your mouth until your nose brushes against the soft hair at his base. You let him feel you gag around him before you drag your lips back up again. You take a moment to suck on the head of his cock and lap up the pre-cum pooling at the tip before you repeat the motion over and over again.

Your other hand is resting on his thigh, and you can feel the subtle tremor in his legs as his orgasm approaches. The bitten-off curses he mutters under his breath signal his impending release, and you bob your head on his cock with fervor so he finally comes with a low groan. His cum floods your mouth and you intentionally pull back so the last drops ooze from his cock and onto your lips. He tracks the movement of your tongue when you swipe it across your mouth and swallow.

He reaches down with a gloved finger and collects the traces of him that you missed. He taps your bottom lip and you suck the digit into your mouth obediently. The salty musk of his cum is laced with a touch of leather, and you let his finger slide from your mouth with a pop .

“Perhaps I’ll join you in bed after all,” he murmurs. Your cheeks grow warm from his praise and the look of fondness and lust swirling in his eyes. His cock stirs between his legs, and he gasps when you surprise him and lean forward once more.

Maybe next time when you ask him to take a break, he won’t be so stubborn.

LEVIATHAN

Leviathan flails in his computer chair when you dart under his desk. You’ve been reading in his tub and listening to him grow more and more frustrated with how his raid’s been going. By the time his guild stops for a break, Levi’s body is tense and his fingers tap angrily against the keyboard like he’s resisting the urge to pick it up and snap it over his knee. He didn’t even notice your approach until you settled on your knees between his legs. He’s in a t-shirt and loose sweatpants which makes things so much easier.

“Wait, what are you–?” he starts to ask, but the question dies in his throat when you palm his cock through his pants. He’s not hard, but you can feel his cock twitch beneath your hand and you bite your lip. You stroke him gently, encouraging his cock to full hardness.

“Let me help you relax, baby,” you murmur and gaze at him with a hint of a pout pursing your lips. His ears turn pink from your little pet name for him. Your lips curl into a satisfied smile when he swallows thickly and nods.

“Uhh…o-okay, but there’s only a few minutes left on the break timer,” he warns you when his eyes dart to his monitor.

How dare sucking his cock interfere with his raid? But you wouldn’t be with him if you weren’t willing to compromise for his hobbies.

“Of course,” you reassure him. You tug on the waistband of his pants and he lifts his hips so you can slide them down his thighs to his knees. He’s naked under his sweatpants and his cock is hard and twitching for you. “You might want to mute your mic.”

He flicks a switch on his headset and he looks like he wants to ask you why, but he throws his head back against his hair with a loud moan when you swallow him down in one slick move. You bob your head faster than you’d normally like, but you’re desperate to make him come before he gets distracted again by his game.

He’s chasing his pleasure and you know he won’t last long. He’s thrusting into your mouth with shallow movements of his hips, not enough to choke you, but it makes the whole thing feel even more sloppy and rushed and hot. His arm is thrown over his eyes and he’s chanting your name under his breath along with an incoherent litany of slurred curses and satisfied moans. “I’m so close I don’t think I can–wait, yeah, oh fuck, right there, yes, yes, yes, please—!”

His whiny pleas join the chorus of slick sounds made by your lips wrapped around his cock. He cries loudly when he finally comes, shooting ropes of cum that land across your tongue and dribble down your throat. You pull away and stroke his half-hard cock through the aftershocks and delight in the way his whole body twitches. When he squirms away from your touch, you lean back on your heels and wipe your mouth with the back of your hand. His forehead glistens with sweat, and his cheeks are red from exertion and pleasure. 

You stand up and lean forward to kiss his lips, and he whimpers when he tastes himself on your tongue. You whisper in his ear what naughty things he can do to you with his tail later once his raid is over; hopefully he’s relaxed enough now that he can focus and finish his game early tonight.

“Uh huh,” he agrees and nods eagerly, chasing your mouth even as you pull away. His eyes are blown black with lust and you smirk when his horns appear. His tail starts to curl around your thigh and tries to bring you forward into his lap.

You push back against his chest when glance at his monitor and chuckle. “I think your friends are waiting for you.”

There’s a chat box full of messages like “WTF???” and “BREAK ENDED 5 MINS AGO!” on his game screen. Levi scrambles to pull his pants back up while you head back to his tub with an eager bounce in your step.

It’s less than fifteen minutes later when a familiar horned shadow falls over you. You glance up from your book and grin when his tail wraps around your ankle and pries your legs apart.

SATAN

Satan’s aura thrums with energy when you find him in his room before bed. You weren’t home for it, but you heard from the others that he and Lucifer had a bit of a tiff. It wasn’t a full-blown fight, but whatever happened left Satan a little worse for wear.

He likes to read to you at nighttime, and despite his troubled mood, he insists he still wants to. You lay down beside him and rest your chest in his chest while he opens the book and begins where he left off. You glance up at him worriedly; there’s a rough tremor in his voice, and he’s flicking through the pages with less care than usual.

You’re tracing abstract shapes on his chest with your fingers, and you slowly move your hand further down his abdomen. He stumbles over a word when you reach the waistband of his sleep pants, and his breath hitches when you slide your hand underneath. His cock is half-hard by the time you stroke your fingers along his shaft and give him a few lazy pumps.

He moans quietly, and he stares at you when you shift your body down the bed until you’re hovering above his crotch. “What are you—?”

“Keep reading,” you murmur as you lower his pants enough so that his cock springs free. He glances between you and the book in his hand, but he starts reading in a slightly strained voice.

He doesn’t stop when you gather the pre-cum at the tip of his cock and suck it off your fingers. He moans slightly but continues reading when you trace the veins of his cock from base to tip with your tongue. When you wrap your lips around the head of his cock and suck gently, he grunts and reaches for you so he can caress your cheek with his free hand. He swallows thickly as he stares at you with something like wonderment. When he begins reading again, you reward him and finally swallow him down.

“Fuck,” he whispers into the quiet of his room. The soft, wet sounds of your lips around his cock and his heavy breathing fill the empty space between you. You clench your thighs together to try and stave off your own arousal; you want him to come first, and based on the shallow, jerky movements of his hips, it won’t take long.

He tips his head back and whispers sweet nothings under his breath. You swallow him down deeper than before and hum around his cock. The vibrations of your lips finally cause him to break, and he gasps and thrusts into your mouth as he empties himself. His eyes are locked onto yours while you swallow every drop his cock spills inside you. He strokes your face gently until you finally let his softening cock slip from between your lips. He pulls you up onto his lap and kisses you until you’re both breathless. By the time he rolls you underneath him, he’s hard again and more than eager to return the favour.

BEELZEBUB

You don’t understand all the rules of Fangol, but what you do know is that Beelzebub’s team rarely loses. It was a close game, but even from the stands you can see the defeated slump in Beel’s shoulders when he leads his team off the field towards the locker rooms. You try to wave to him, but his eyes are downcast and he doesn’t see you. You hand Mammon the sign you made so he can carry it home for you,  and you head down the stadium to wait for Beel.

You fidget nervously as his teammates trickle out of the locker room one at a time, but there’s no sign of Beel anywhere. One of his friends gestures behind him and tells you Beel’s still in there, and you take it as an invitation to fetch him yourself. 

There’s no response when you tentatively open the locker room door and call his name. You follow the sound of running water and find Beel leaning against the wall just out of the water spray. His head is tilted back and a frown creases his brow. When he opens his eyes, he looks sad and bitter with disappointment. He’s not ashamed of his nakedness and doesn’t hide himself from you. He’s not surprised to see you, either; he smelled you as soon as you walked through the door.

The water hisses around you and he wants to tell you to go home, but he knows you won’t—you’re always there for him even when he’s too ashamed to ask you to stay.

You walk towards him, uncaring that the warm mist around you is making your skin tacky. Your thin shirt clings to your chest and Beel’s eyes trail down to where the hint of your naked skin peeks through the flimsy material. 

By the time you press yourself against him and reach for his cock, he’s already hard and twitching for you. His eyes are dark and hungry and he stares at your lips while you pump his cock lazily. 

“What do you want?” you ask him breathlessly. His eyes still look desperate and you’ll give him anything he wants. 

He groans deep in his chest and pulls you in for a kiss. There’s nothing gentle about the way his lips move against yours, or the way his tongue licks across the seam of your mouth. His hands grasp your shoulders and explore your dips and curves, groping at your chest through your shirt and circling your waist so he can crush you against him.

“I want you,” he pants when you break the kiss. He tries to follow your lips, but you slide to your knees and wrap one of your hands around his thigh while the other grips his cock at the base.

“Want you first,” you murmur before you place an open-mouthed kiss on the tip of his cock. You taste the trickle of arousal already seeping out when you flick your tongue against the slit. When he curls his hand around the back of your head, you let him push you down until you choke on him. You glance up and look at him through your lashes, and his dark eyes are making a silent plea; when you nod your assent, as gently as you can with his cock in your mouth, he guides your movements in time with his hips.

His thrusts are slow and gentle at first, letting you get used to the way his cock stretches your lips so obscenely. You can’t even hear the shower anymore; all you can focus on is his heavy breathing and the whistling sound you make when you breathe through your nose. There’s a soft, slick noise when your lips drag up and down his cock under his firm touch. Your drool and his arousal coat his length and trickle from the corners of your mouth.

Beel isn’t very vocal when he fucks you, but today his movements are punctuated by groans and grunts that makes your blood boil with your own arousal. He gasps loudly if you tighten the suction around the head of his cock just right before he pushes your head back down, and it turns you on so much that you keep doing it over and over as you coax him towards his release.

It doesn’t take long for him to come, not with the adrenaline of the game still pumping through his veins as he fucks your throat. He groans your name and bites his lip, and he pulls your head off his cock in time for him to shoot thick ropes of cum in your open mouth and across the bottom half of your face. You lick your lips and he drops to his knees and kisses you. You’re both covered in him now, but neither of you care–it’s a perfect excuse to drag him under the showerhead and see if you can help him relax a little bit more before you go home together.

[monarchofdreams]

Familial

This is my grandson, Joseph. He has always taken care of me since he was a little boy. I would always appreciate him helping me clean the house, walk to the kitchen, or even buy me groceries. When he was young, he loved to play sports. He'd say he'd grow big and strong just so he could help me. I was always so proud of him when he showed me his medals and trophies. Unfortunately, I was always too old and frail to see his football games. He did well with academics as well. He was athletic, intelligent, and not to mention his looks, but he was also gorgeous. I love him so much, but it bothered me to see him lonely. I mean, he's very popular and has plenty of friends. However, even with his good looks and charm, he doesn't have the confidence to ask a girl out. He would always say that he would never get a girl or they wouldn't want to date him. That's just ridiculous! He is wasting those amazing genetics. If I had thise looks back in my day, I'd have women from all over town begging to get into my pants. Fast forward a few years, I was stuck in a hospital bed waiting to kick the bucket, and Joseph was taking care of me. He's a grown adult with his own life, yet he never left me behind. He was devastated when I passed away. He locked himself in his room for days just to cry. I reached out to comfort him, but suddenly, in that moment, everything went blank.

Slowly, sound starts to return, and I can feel a draft against my skin, across my entire body. As I slowly open my eyes, I realize I am in my grandson's apartment. As I take in my new surroundings, my eyes drift toward my large arms and hands... they aren't mine! They are nicely tanned and without a wrinkle in sight! I have tattoos decorating my now bulging biceps. I am only wearing a pair of Nike briefs, fully exposed, leaving little to the imagination. I quickly ran to the bathroom, and to my disbelief, I was greeted by Joseph's reflection, displaying a shocked expression, but it was not long until that confusion shifted into curiosity and arousal.

I started to gently touch the soft skin of my face and torso, which was now blanketed in thick slabs of muscle mass. My hands glided down my chest, fondling my massive pecs and washboard abs. As I felt myself up, a massive bulge started begging for attention. I bit my lip as my hands began to move down, as if they had a mind of their own. My fingers glide across my pecs, brushing against my firm nipples. My body began to shudder the more I touched them. Damn, they are very sensitive. I felt my raging cock stiffen against my briefs, and a damp spot started to form. Without wasting more time, I quickly reached down the damp briefs, my hand breaking past webs of pre built up from the past few minutes. My fingers wrap around my manhood, but just barely. Holy shit, I am massive. I take my thumb nad massage my tip, feeling more slick juice coating my hands. Without warning, my hips suddenly buck forward, causing a soft masculine moan to escape my lips.

I haven't felt this good in years, and I am hungry for more. I continue to grind my cock against my massive rough hands, my breathing growing heavier with each pump. I can feel pressure building up as I get closer to finishing, but I won't allow this to end so soon. I release my hand from its cum soaked prison, and take a wiff of my spunk. It reaks of the musk of a true man. I feel my cock soften just enough to get my briefs to loosen its grip. I pull down the elastic, letting my 8 inches of pure manhood to spring out and breathe, dripping with white spunk and sweat. I know I'm taking this too far, violating Joseph's body, but I can't control myself. I wrapped my hand once again around my shaft and began pumping my that dick. As I pump, it continues to inflate an extra 2 inches in my hands. My rough hands stroke the ridges of my fuckstick, driving me insane with each pass. "Ooof. Oh fuck, yes..." My moans of pleasure grow louder and louder. Hearing the sexy voice of my grandson spout lude words from my mouth and feeling the base of his vocal chords vibrate within my throat is sending me over the edge. More and more pressure begin to build up as I feel cum rise up my piping hot rod. Nothing else mattered right now. Only thoughts of sex and pleasure filled my mind. My grandson's well-being was no longer a concern. "This is my body, Joseph. You love your grandpa, right? So I'm sure you'll be thrilled if I stay. You like that, don’t you? Ohhh, yes. Unnghh, " I yelp out in my new sexy voice as I reach my limit. "Im coming. Oh yes, baby, I'm coming. Nnnngg..." It was not long until my cock finally erupted, my white juice coating my sweaty body. The smell of musk continued to turn me on, and without hesitation, I brought my cum cover hand to my mouth, licking my fingers clean. The thick juices slid down my throat as I enjoyed the salty taste of my youth. My dick was still rock hard and leaking. I can really go for a second serving.

[warping-realities]

Animal I Have Become

Alright, I promised I wouldn’t write any more. But this one’s short and I cranked it out in less than two hours. The inspiration is obvious for anyone who’s a fan of "Karate Kid"/"Cobra Kai," since I just finished the first part of the last season. And for those worried about my studies, don’t sweat it—I was on my work shift, which I never use to study because it seems to attract all kinds of chaos. Anyway! If any quick ideas pop up, I’ll post them, but no more long stories packed with plots for a while.

I only agreed to go back to the place of my humiliation for one reason: Mikey was my best friend throughout high school until he decided, right in our senior year, to join the karate team of the new P.E. assistant teacher. Then, like magic, the skinny kid with a sharp sense of humor who could discuss everything from experimental physics to pre-Columbian American history, the guy I knew so well, was replaced by this arrogant musclehead who struggled with math and was totally incapable of having a history discussion that didn’t revolve around bragging about how today badass America was, and whose idea of a joke involved talking about tits or letting out a stinky fart. Apparently, it was a courtesy of the insane amounts of protein he started chugging to maintain his suddenly beefed-up physique. How the hell was it possible to gain that much muscle in such a short time? Maybe steroids, but the one time I asked about that, I ended up stuck under his stinky armpit. And what was up with that new nickname? “Snake!” How pretentious was that? But apparently, everyone in the group had a “badass nickname.” Ah, the joys of the standard American jock… Still, I tried to hold on to some of our friendship; God, did I try.

I even agreed to join a couple of those damn team practices, knowing damn well I didn’t have the physique, the skills, and maybe most importantly, the real desire to be there. I ended up getting ridiculed by everyone, including my so-called best friend.

I should’ve never talked to him again after that week of “practices.” But, being the idiot I am, all it took was a poorly worded apology full of grammatical mistakes that my brain refuses to recreate:

“Sorry, bro, the sensei got pissed at the guys when he heard their jokes about the size of your… well, you know. He wants you to meet us in the locker room today so we can apologize the right way. If you don’t show up, he’s gonna make us skip training for the whole week. Come on, please, for our friendship!”

… and there I was in that locker room. I should’ve left those morons without practice, but I decided to be the good samaritan.

Walking into that crap hole, what a surprise! It was empty. The pungent stench of sweat filled the room and humidity on the walls made it feel like the locker room was actually a beast whose musk drips off its body after a vigorous workout. But that didn’t matter; apparently, either the coach didn’t give a damn about what happened, which I should’ve figured, since he was just an older version of the ogre crew he trained, or he didn’t even know what went down, and I was about to be the victim of another lame prank.

Thinking about the danger, I quickly turned to leave. Then I noticed… on the other side of the room, hanging on one of the lockers… had that been there before? A piece of red fabric… oh, of course. A red gi from the team; they even gave themselves a pretentious name…. The fight practice was happening right at that moment. It was hard to think about it. I said so much crap about the team on TikTok and Instagram, tarnishing the reputation of the strong and disciplined image they worked so hard to create outside those walls that they probably hated my guts now. All those arrogant alpha dogs were arrogant and obnoxious. What the hell was I thinking trying to fit in? Nerdy little dudes like me didn’t really belong there. Even the jokes about my dick; if I were one of them, I’d just throw a punch or come back with some barbaric, macho comeback and everything would be cool. But I wasn’t like that, and my frustration with all of it was proof of that.

I never really liked the Gi. That red color always seemed way too aggressive, and for some reason, it always looked oversized on me, with sleeves and pants that were way too long and baggy. I had to wrap the belt around me twice just to keep it from falling off my skinny frame. Apparently, it never crossed the sensei’s mind that a little guy like me would have the audacity to try to join his team. Thinking about it, it wasn’t that I didn’t like the Gi; I hated it. It represented everything I despised about that bunch of trolls and also my lost friendship.

I stepped back and slowly turned my head back to the locker with the gi. Did it belong to someone? normally they were used by any of the team's bodies, one size fits all, or almost, when I was still there... anyway... after training they went straight to the laundry before returning for the next training session. Not that any washing would really get rid of the complete animalistic musk that infested their fabric. So why would someone leave it here?

Not my fucking problem. Probably just a spare or something. I think, walking resolutely toward the door, and I crack it open slightly. I turn back. I guess there’s no one using it. That means someone’s gonna grab it soon. Something’s bugging me. But what is it? I get closer, the musk intensifying. That gi definitely isn’t new and hasn’t been washed recently. And what’s this? There’s a note along with it. I sit on the nearby bench to read.

“Sorry, bro, today’s practice was super important, and the sensei didn’t want to wait for you. But he left your gi here. Put it on and come train; this time it’ll be different, I promise. Trust me, for old times’ sake.”

Old times? Maybe… maybe I should give it a shot. God, what a weird thought. Why would I want to do that? But while I’m thinking about it, my feet are already moving me to stand up and head toward the locker, while my hands are grabbing my shirt and pulling it up. I should stop. I need to stop. I should leave now, but the shirt comes off and goes over my head, landing on the floor. My pants are unbuttoned, and soon they join the shirt. I really should stop. Why do I want this? It’d be better to stop, but soon I’m in my boxers holding the gi in front of me. First, I put one leg in... then the other... then the arms, and then the belt… why is it black? I wonder, confused… but then that consuming need fades away.

I look at myself. As always, it doesn’t fit. I look like a kid wearing his dad’s suit at some event. I sit back down on the bench. Alright, that strange urgency is satisfied. So now I can just take this damn thing off!

But I don’t want to, for some strange reason. I feel more comfortable than ever. It’s like that mismatched uniform was made for me. My delicate hands wander over the ill-fitting outfit, the long sleeves sliding down my shoulders. I try to adjust them back into place, but they stop midway as I start to feel the material against my skin. The feeling of power it gives me… the feeling of strength… was it really this good when I was practicing? No, definitely not; if it was, I wouldn’t have quit. Man, this feels amazing... I feel the weight of the gi on me, both real and metaphorical… the weight of what it represents… my hands roam over its wide shape… it’s not just a uniform… it’s an armor… a sacred cloak… this is so cool… I can hear them in the training room… too bad I can’t join them... I wish I could... and they asked... didn’t they? I shift a bit on the bench and let my arms fall to my sides. Weird, I didn’t seem that far from the ground before. I feel cozy; the sweat smell doesn’t bother me, the whole atmosphere feels familiar, even comforting, like coming home after a long day and sitting in your favorite chair. I feel dizzy, like I’m about to fall asleep...

My rational mind, or what’s left of it, doesn’t notice. But unconsciously, I do… my muscles are slowly expanding, my skinny body pushing against the bench while my hands gently massage my slightly protruding belly that’s slowly flattening, the little bit of fat there seeming to be sucked in with every circle my hand makes. My shoulders are also widening, getting broader, as I grunt happily, a tingling sensation creeping up my body.

Feeling that, my eyes suddenly open, a jolt waking me up a bit from that stupor. What the hell was that? I look at my belly, and it’s widening as I’m hit with shock. I’m getting ripped! My hands trace the outline of my abs as the little muscle blocks there grow and harden, turning into six distinct shapes. As I stare at that in fascination, the stupor hits me harder.

The rigid stones of my abs aren’t the only things getting harder. My arms and legs are swelling with new muscle, keeping pace with my ever-growing body. And, well... I gently pat my groin. It’s definitely there too… a solid extra four inches, and still soft… As my body keeps expanding, the sensation turns pleasurable, like scratching an itch that’s been bugging you for ages, so I let it wash over me. My mouth opens in a gasp, drool spilling out as I pant like a dog. For some reason, it’s easier to breathe like this. Maybe because my nose is breaking and reforming a few times without me even noticing? As the drool runs down my pecs, I bring my hand to them and feel them grow, making my hands look tiny in comparison to the two meat packages they become. I shake my hand a bit, sending the drool flying, and with each shake, I see it grow too, turning into a massive paw, perfect for smashing some unsuspecting fool. Looking at that seems… really good… and I laugh. And out of nowhere, the other hand starts growing too, while my feet expand like crazy. My size eight shoes will never fit those paws; what size are they now? 14? Or maybe 15? A good kick with those surfboards and you’re down for the count… cool… hehehe...

No, not cool, not cool at all! This damn outfit is doing something to me! I stand up and grab the gi by the sleeves at my shoulders, ready to rip it off, and then…. I fall back onto the bench, my eyes unfocused again as a sudden wave of pleasure hits me like a tsunami. Yeah, a torrent of testosterone floods my body as my jawline becomes prominent, my chin broadens, and little tufts of freshly trimmed hair cover my chest and armpits. My mouth opens again, drool spilling out as my neck thickens, and my Adam’s apple sticks out, while my forehead becomes more pronounced, with low brows creating a scowl that makes it look like I’m always ready to fight, and my hair gets shaved on the sides, completing the look of a total douchebag. I try to care, I try to fight... fight... good… fights is good... no… not fight like this... I start to lift my arm, now powerful and making the gi look slightly tight… my biceps must be huge… hehhe… then it drops again… I look at my altered reflection in the mirror and see someone who could easily roll with Samue… Snake and the other guys… who knows, maybe now it’ll end… maybe I’ll finally break free from this stupor and get out of here… But then the real nightmare begins, as a web of powerful veins snakes through the swollen muscles of my body, a myriad of intrusive thoughts starts to slowly shape my mind, no matter how hard I try to resist. They break through my defenses with such force that my illusions shatter quickly as I start to forget. Memories of long hours of studying slowly morph into party after party with my friends, working out with them, training with them, watching my body swell and grow; time spent on pop culture becomes time spent watching football, hours and hours perfecting my college resume turns into hours and hours of sweat and sacrifice perfecting my fighting technique to the point of perfection. Just like my friends. Just like the sensei taught us to be. And we owe it all to sensei. Especially since he’s gonna figure out a way to get me into college, get all of us, in every corner of the country, ensuring that his teachings are passed on. Just one of us in any student group or, better yet, a fraternity, and boom, a new crew of brothers ready to spread the word… ha… word… funny… as if we needed to talk… no… our way is the way of the fist!

Shit, I can’t believe I slept through practice! Sensei is gonna rip me a new one! I shouldn’t have hooked up with those hot girls from college with Snake last night… dude, I couldn’t miss that hookup… I’ll just have to take the sensei’s punishment like a man… and I AM THE MAN!”

I stand up and groan, my voice deeper, with a bit of a growl. I turn toward the door, bracing for sensei’s yelling… Eh, screw him. He’ll put on his show about my tardiness, and I’ll play my part as the remorseful kid, and everything will be fine. It’s not like I skipped out or, God forbid, quit the team; I can’t even imagine the things he’d do to a damn deserter. I stretch a bit, admire myself in the mirror… Mad Dawg, you’re so swole… damn… you big, hot son of a bitch!

And then I finally walk toward the training room to join my brother’s in arms. Today’s practice is gonna be awesome; I can feel it, but honestly, it always is; I was born for this.

[juice-plums]

Not Until I say

Sergei Kravinoff x !Busty woman! Reader

Warnings: Jealousy, burning hot make up sex, Orgasm denying, dirty talking, Calypso better than me cause I would of put in that work!!

Big mistake wearing that short, black dress tonight, you know that one, that accentuated your busty and curvy figure, he couldn’t keep his eyes off you the entire night, you were oblivious to the waiter’s flirting, so couldn’t believe that you had the audacity to wear that dress tonight you knew he liked that dress yet you still wore it and what’s worse is that you had the nerve to be oblivious to the waiter’s flirting, Sergei was not just mad he had flaming jealousy in him, bubbling up in his heart, and he had to remind you who you belonged to, who owned you

now back at his home, Your legs up to your chest folding you in half as he plundered his 9 inch cock into your pussy from behind, pre-cum mixed with your sweet nectar messily soaked his thick, hairy thighs, he grunts like an animal as your calves twitched and moved from his brutal thrust, he pants and groans chasing after his own climax he dared growl in your ear

“you better not fucking cum”

He growled in your ear, biting your earlobe, continuing to plunder his cock into your weeping, wet pussy that was crying to cum, he was so mean,…your tears stream down ruining your eye makeup as you forced the bubble in your stomach not to cum, you whine and beg, your warm tongue lolling out in between your messed up lipstick, your poor brain being fucked out of your mind and you couldn’t cum, not until he says so, the headlock he had on your calves was tight

“I shouldn’t even let you cum, you’ve been so fucking naughty tonight”

He growled again in your ear, making more tears of pleasure fall from your pretty face, he was being so mean to your pussy, you tried to speak but your brain gets so scrambled from his cock roughly ramming your pussy only whimpers and moans left your mouth, his large cock buried into your pussy only to be meanly taken out and rammed back in, his earthy musk scent clouding your senses as your pussy gets more juicy and wetter

“no, no, please let me cum, please..”

You managed to babble but it was weak, hot tears on your face as you watched the delicious sight of his 9 inch, thick and veiny cock ramming in and out of your pretty pussy, your pedicured toes curling to strain your orgasm down hoping your begging could soften him up and put pity your pussy, he lustfully grinned, his stamina never faltered he could go the whole night, edging you and edging you until you couldn’t talk at all, but he didn’t, since you asked so nicely

“Since you asked so nicely,…I can’t resist my girl when she asks, fine”

He uttered, smugly grinning, he could only imagine the look on your fucked out face, that made his balls and cock twitch in interest more as he continues to rut in your squelching pussy, your moans of bliss and pleasure get louder and louder, filling up his whole bedroom, he slammed his cock fully into your pussy and that done it, had you squirting and creaming, he rode out him orgasm, slamming you up and down, making a big mess of your pretty pussy he growled and grunted loudly mixed with your moans and wails of bliss, your mind completely fucked out. he groan and loudly whooped.

“Very good, my little berry”

He seductively groan, his thick, deep voice praised, making your heart tapped, he released your legs from the air, and he cuddled you in his bed, your guts all sore from the position he had you, but your pussy quivered in bliss, he smooched and kissed your face all over, he was dominant all right but he was so caring and couldn’t stay mad at you….for long. You made a mental note to wear the scandalous black dress time to time, you loved it when he took control.

[vikwrites]

His Sweet Girl - Tony Stark

Summary ➣ Nestled between Tony's legs, and all you wanted was to just feel him. Pairing ➣ Tony Stark x Reader Word Count ➣ 724 words Warnings ➣ 18+ / Blindfolds / Daddy Kink / Oral Sex Author's Notes ➣ A short drabble written for my friend @mrshottiefinder on Instagram, written in an barely hour and not proofread. Comments + reblogs are highly appreciated to support more of my sleep-deprived ramblings, enjoy <3

You were snugly nestled between Tony’s legs, the warmth of his body enveloping you. The plush carpet beneath your knees cushioned your weight as you leaned onto him. His deft fingers traced patterns through your hair, smooth and comforting. You closed your eyes and let out a content sigh, feeling completely at ease in his embrace.

The space between you and him feels simultaneously intimate and vast. His body radiates heat, and you can feel every inch of it as he stands so close to you. Your longing to feel his skin against yours is palpable, hindered only by the thin barrier of his dress-pants. The scent of Tony’s cologne filled your nose, a blend of musk and spice that was just uniquely him.

Tony was still dressed in his alpine suit. His tie, neatly fastened in a knot around his neck. The contrast of his crisp, tailored appearance against your barely-there attire was always a turn-on for you. You kneeled before him in nothing but a skimpy black dress, which left almost nothing to the imagination and his favourite pair of heels, feeling both exposed and empowered by his gaze.

The warmth of his touch radiated through your entire body, causing you to melt into his fingers even more. Every breath he took seemed to fill the room with an intoxicating scent that made your head spin. 

"Such a good girl," Tony cooed in a deep, seductive tone as he continued to play with your hair, he’d always enjoyed toying with it, he did pay for it anyways.

“How about you play with daddy for a bit, hm? I know you want to." Behind his soft, coordinated actions, you could sense the desperation in his voice as he longed to feel you around him too. 

With deliberate slowness, you ran your tongue along the zipper of his dress-pants, your tongue traced a slow, teasing path. Tony’s low groan was followed by a tightening grip on your hair, but you didn't stop. 

You wanted to see how far you could push him. You teased at his fly, feeling the zipper with your teeth and tasting the metallic tang in your mouth. But you didn't mind the bitter taste; all you craved was to taste him.

Slowly, you used your teeth to unfasten his fly, all the while keeping your eyes glued onto his. It was a wordless game of seduction, fuelled by the intensity in his dark gaze meeting yours.

With haste, his boxers were pulled down, a harsh contrast to your tender, tentative touch earlier. But you couldn't wait any longer; eagerly taking his half-hard cock in your adrenaline-fueled, trembling hands and giving it a few full strokes.

"Fuck, play with it, baby," Tony groaned as he relaxed into your touch, his legs no longer as constricting as they were before. You heard rustling as Tony fiddled to get his tie off, bringing it to your eyes and tying it behind your head, leaving you in near-darkness, completely at his mercy.

You felt his hands pulling at your hair once again as he guided your eager mouth towards his cock. Almost salivating as you took him into your mouth, the scent of his cologne mingled with the musk of sweat and sex, as well as the salty taste of his pre-cum. You gagged as you took him in with one swift motion, making obscene noises that undoubtedly turned him on as he let out a blissful sigh. 

"Your mouth feels amazing wrapped around my cock," he moaned, one hand gripping your hair in a loose ponytail and the other around your neck, it wasn’t that constricting, but god it was sexy as fuck.

As Tony thrusted into your throat, your lipstick smudged around your cheek and the flushed skin of his cock. His movements started slow and cautious as he whispered gentle praises and encouragements, but soon they became frantic and desperate, a clear sign of his impending orgasm.

"Oh god—shit! 'm gonna cum for you, baby!" Tony moaned as he shoved himself deep into the back of your throat. Tears were now streaming freely down your face, mixing in with your once-pristine makeup, staining his expensive tie; but you didn't care anymore. You moaned as you felt his warm cum running down your throat, only intensifying the pleasure for you.

As Tony withdrew, your body was immediately scooped up, your chest pressed onto his firm, muscular torso, the soft pulse of his reactor warming your body as his hands returning to stroke your hair. The tie was discarded without a second thought, finding its place on the floor. His soft, loving gaze meeting yours.  

"My sweet girl," Tony smirked, his lips claiming yours.

⎊ back to masterlist

[a-killer-obsession]

Whoops, you got hit by a bus, and now you're in the world of One Piece. But not everything is quite as you remember it...

General Tags: afab reader, she/her reader pronouns, isekai, monsterfucker reader, vampire!kid, werewolf!killer, wyrm!heat, minotaur!wire, everyone has a human form, smut heavy, unhealthy relationships, dubious consent, serious violence, spoilers for Wano arc, starts pre-timeskip. There will be a lot of more intense kinks, please check AO3 for all current tags.

Chapter 3 - Snake

Step 2: Get free of your cell.

WC: 5.5k

Masterlist | AO3 | Chapter 1

Heat did in fact bring you a warm blanket and clothes, in fact he brought you several of his own blankets, which smelt of weed and musk, as well as a pillow, a long sleeved shirt that was practically a dress on you, and sweatpants you had to tie as tight as they would go to get them to stay up. He even brought you a set of fuzzy socks and a stuffed animal that looked something like a snake but with horns. You were far more comfortable in the brig now, even if there were very questionable stains on your mattress, you were at least able to stack the two mattresses in your cell and use one of the blankets as somewhat of a sheet. Heat didn't make any further sexual advances on you, you got the sense he was nervous about getting caught, though he did give you soft kisses through the bars whenever he came to visit, which you happily accepted.

You didn't see much of other top dogs, usually your food was brought down once a day by a random crewmate, seemingly whoever drew the short straw that day. It wasn't a lot of food, but Heat would sneak you more when he could. It was clear that you had him on your side, always checking if you were okay, even if he seemed highly anxious about being caught talking to you. Unbeknownst to you, someone had in fact noticed his visits, and you now found yourself face to face with Wire, who sat against the edge of the desk across from your cell, spinning his trident on its base idly.

“You need to stop taking advantage of Heat,” he told you plainly.

“I'm not taking advantage of him,” you huffed, hugging the stuffed animal he'd given you to your chest. Wire raised an eyebrow at the toy, it was obvious to him where you got it. The room stunk of Heat, his scent was on your clothes, your blankets, your skin. “I genuinely like Heat, sue me. It's not my fault he's the only one who sees I'm no danger to anyone.”

Wire made a tsk sound and stood, only needing a few strides of his long legs to come to a stop in front of your cell. “Show me your wrists,” he ordered with a bored expression.

You raised a brow at the sudden request but obediently put down your stuffed animal, walking in front of Wire and holding up your arms through the bars for him. He took your wrist in his large hand and turned it too and fro, like he was looking for something, furrowing his brows as he apparently didn't find it. He let your arms drop again and you stood patiently, waiting for him to say something.

“What are you, and how did you get here?” he asked, “You're not getting out of here until Kid gets answers, and he's getting impatient”

“I already told you, I don't know how I got here,” you huffed, “I was in my own world, where all this shit was fiction, I got hit by a bus, I hit your mast. That's the entire truth of it. What do you want from me, a three thousand word essay about the world I'm from?”

“Hmm,” Wire squinted at you discerningly, taking a few steps back and returning to spinning his trident idly.

“I'm telling you the truth, I swear,” you pleaded, “I can prove it when we get to Sabaody, I can tell you what'll happen there, without any devil fruit helping me know. I don't have any sort of foresight, I just read it in the work of fiction in my own world. I have other proof too, I know about Victoria, and the four gangs on your home island in the South Blue, why Kid and Killer don't like curry udon. I swear on my life, I'm telling the truth. There's no reason for me to lie, I have nowhere else to go and no reason to harm anyone on this ship.”

“Kil? What do you think?” Wire said without turning away from you. You let out a surprised squeak as Killer emerged from the door, seemingly having been standing there quietly for who knows how long.

“She stinks of fear, but I don't think she's lying,” he replied, standing next to Wire with crossed arms.

“Kil, I'm sorry about the lipstick thing, I-” you started, before he raised a hand and cut you off.

“Save it, it's whatever,” he tutted, “but tell anyone else and you'll be begging for death.”

“I'd never tell anyone, I swear,” you replied, holding the bars as best you could with your bound hands. “I swear I'd never betray anyone on this crew. I want to be here, I do, I promise. Just let me out of here, I'll prove you can trust me.”

“Mm,” Killer hummed, before turning and leaving without another word, an equally silent Wire in tow, leaving you confused and fearful of your future on this ship. You curled back up in bed, hugging your stuffie close to your chest, trying your best not to cry.

“Wanna explain why you've been scenting her, Heat?” Killer accused, sitting at the round table in the navigation room with the other three commanders.

“You did what?” Kid growled, “what, she suck your dick or something? Why are you making a claim on her?”

“No… yes…” Heat admitted, “she's nice okay? She seemed so genuine, and she asked for a blanket that smelt like me, ask her yourself. She wanted me to scent her”

“So she did suck your dick?” Kid laughed, “you're as weak to a woman as ever, Heat. Don't think she's gonna let you claim her just because she smells like you.”

“It's not like that,” Heat huffed, “besides, she practically extended an invitation for any of us to fuck her. God forbid I do something as innocent as scent her.”

“You know full well it's not innocent,” Wire jeered, “but I do agree that she seems to be genuine.”

“So what, we're believing this other world bullshit?” Kid asked.

“The iron isn't burning her wrists, and she had no problem sticking her arm outside of the cage barrier,” Wire noted, “I don't think she's a witch or a demon. We know she doesn't have a devil fruit. I don't think there's any other good explanations for how she got here or how she knows so much about us”

“At the very least, she seems to believe it's the truth,” Killer added, “and she hasn't shown any aggression towards the crew. I don't know if we have any reason to keep her locked up. If what she's saying is true, then she has insider information on our future that could prove useful. At the very least she's more useful to us alive.”

“I don't trust her,” Kid grumbled, “I'll probably still fuck her, but I don't trust her.”

“So let me take on the responsibility,” Heat suggested, “I'll keep an eye on her”

“You just wanna get her in your bed so you can get more scent on her,” Wire rolled his eyes, “I saw the stuffed animal, already bringing her courting gifts, I know you're just itching to get her in your hoard”

“Shut up!” Heat huffed, a vibrant red flushing on his face, “you're just jealous she didn't say she dreams about you a lot! It's not my fault she likes me better!”

“Snake,” Wire spat.

“Bull-headed cunt!” Heat shouted back.

“Will you knuckleheads shut the fuck up and let me think?” Kid growled. Wire and Heat quickly quietened down, a slight blush still evident on Heat's cheeks as he considered adding you to his treasure collection. “Heat, you can have your whore, but if she puts one foot out of place I'll crush her fucking skull. And if I catch you acting all possessive I'm taking your toy away, she ain't yours, don't let her get in your head. She has till Sabody to prove herself, if she turns out to be full of shit we'll sell her to an auction house while we're there. At least then we'll get back what we spent feeding the bitch”

“Aye aye captain,” Heat stood excitedly, eager to get you out of the cell.

“Oi, Heat,” Killer barked before Heat had a chance to leave, “I know you know what I'm about to say; don't fucking try it, understand? Like Kid said, she's not yours to claim, so don't fucking try it.”

Heat knew exactly what Killer was referring to and grumbled in annoyance. “I wasn't gonna…” he mumbled like a scolded child.

“Oh come off it, like you haven't had a clutch ready to go since she came on board,” Killer huffed, “I can smell it from here, don't fucking try it.”

“Fine! Whatever!” Heat yelled.

“And take her to House tomorrow,” he continued, “if you're gonna make her your fucktoy you better not get her knocked up the old fashioned way either. And have her tested, if she's so desperate to be the ship whore she better be fuckin’ clean.”

“Roger that,” Heat grumbled, almost slamming the door behind him as he hurried out of the navigation room.

“He's gonna try it,” Wire noted.

“Hundred berri he tries it in less than two weeks,” Kid added.

“One week,” Wire replied.

“One month,” Killer bet, having at least a tiny bit more confidence in Heat's ability to hold off.

You heard Heat's hurried footsteps before you saw him, the creaking of the ladder-stairs as he descended them and practically skipped into the room. “Someone's got a pep in their step today,” you noted, “come for another taste or what?”

“Even better!” Heat smiled as he fumbled with the keys on his belt, “Kid said you can come out, just gotta stay by my side so I can keep an eye on ya”

“Oh, okay!” You stood up quickly, gathering up your blankets and stuffie, but not yet picking them up since you still had cuffs on, “oh, does that mean I'll be staying with you?”

“Yup!” Heat replied a little too eagerly, opening the cell door and fiddling with the keys again to find the one for your restraints. You held up your wrists for him and he removed the cuffs, letting you properly stretch your arms for the first time in several days. Heat grabbed the blankets and bundled them up in his arms, leaving you to grab the pillow and stuffed snake thing. “Come on, I'll show you my room!” He said excitedly.

You followed him obediently as he led you back up to the main deck, unsurprisingly followed by multiple sets of curious eyes, though this time a few of them were noticeably scrunching their noses, like they'd caught a bad smell. You chalked it up to having had no shower in what must have been a week, and made a mental note to ask Heat for a chance to bathe. He led you up two flights of external stairs, one that led to the covered area that held the cannons, the second up to the stern castle, which looked a lot like an actual castle. Strangely, despite being on a mostly wooden ship, the stern castle was made of light grey brickwork, with green, torn fabric draped over the slightly sloped roof section, and arched, ornate windows scattered around the main floor. The entire stern castle was surrounded in a thin deck, with a single arched door at the front leading inside. You followed Heat in, finding yourself in a small hall with a single door and staircase to your left, and more doors to the right as the hall bent around a central section in a U shape, presumably circling the base of the mizzenmast that protruded from the stern castle. There was also an exceptionally tall ladder directly in line with the entry door that disappeared into the ceiling, which Heat explained cut through the next floor and went all the way to the deck on top of the stern castle.

Heat opened the first door on the right, that same familiar scent of weed and musk you'd grown accustomed to hitting you like a truck. The room was a little dark, with fabric pinned over the windows like permanently shut curtains, blocking out any daylight from entering. He made no move to turn on an overhead light, but there was a string of fairy lights hung around the entire circumference of the room, towards the top of the walls, that gave the room a soft, romantic lighting. The room was messy, with a large bed that seemed like a king size but longer, presumably to account for his height, pushed against the wall the door was on. Opposite it was a small indoor greenhouse setup, with several shelves holding what you assumed to be weed plants behind frosted plastic, condensation making the plastic wet on the inside. There was a short set of drawers to your left, and a side table with a bong on it next to the bed, but other than that, what surprised you the most about the room was the sheer amount of stuffed animals.

They were everywhere, littering every corner and every surface in tall stacks, stuffies of every size and shape, lining the long side of his bed along the wall and stacked in a tall pile in the corner of it. It was frankly fucking adorable, and you couldn't help but let a little giggle out. You threw yourself on the bed, letting the mountain of stuffies all fall on you and cover you in a great avalanche, a riot of giggles coming from under the pile as you kicked your feet gleefully. If you'd been able to see Heat's face, you would have known you'd made a mistake in being so enthusiastic. You'd unknowingly just made something possessive click in his brain, compounding yourself into his prized hoard, making yourself one of his treasures.

His form shifted before he could stop himself, legs changing to a long tail, covered in dark dusty pink scales, wrapped with deep red-brown thorn line markings, much like his tattoos. His canines grew to fangs, his nails to sharp black claws, and from his hair emerged two large horns that curled slightly inwards at the ends, black at the base then transitioning to dusty pink and bright fushia at the tips. The end of this tail flicked and shut the door, the sound prompting you to finally emerge from the mountain of stuffed animals with a final laugh that was cut short as you took sight of him.

Raised up on his tail, he very nearly hit the tall ceiling, looming over you as he slithered closer. Your first instinct was to scream, but for some reason you couldn't bring yourself to do it, too enamoured with the way his scales were almost iridescent where the light caught them. Your back was forced flat to the bed as he moved to tower over you, the base of his tail pressed between your legs as his arms supported himself on either side of your torso, your chest heaving with half fearful, half aroused breaths.

“You okay?” He asked curiously, raising a brow as he smelt your fear scenting the air, his senses elevated in this form. “You're acting like you've never seen a Wyrm. Do you not have my kind where you come from?”

“No, we most certainly do not,” you breathed heavily, “a …wyrm, you said? Like a dragon?”

“I'm surprised, most people would say ‘like a snake?’, which is frankly highly offensive,” he joked, “did the manga in your world not say I was a wyrm?”

“No but… it also never explained how you breathed fire,” you admitted, your eyes travelling down now to the base of his tail, noticing the slit between the scales where his dick would usually be. It made sense, Heat was not a character a lot was known about, and the world of One Piece held all sorts of strange species. It explained why he could breathe fire, though there was the chance still that this was a zoan type devil fruit. The way he talked about it made it sound like a somewhat common thing here, so perhaps it was just a species not really shown in the manga. Your eyes travelled again and noticed his fangs and his pretty horns, and you couldn't help but reach up and touch the pink tips, wondering if they were as sharp as they looked. Not sharp enough to draw blood, you discovered, but they would certainly hurt if he headbutted someone. “So pretty,” you mused. You understood now what the stuffie he'd lent you was, and it was all the more adorable that he'd given you one that looked like him.

“You're not afraid of me like this?” He asked hesitantly. Even those familiar with his kind tended to be anxious around him like this, he was large and dangerous looking, it was a natural response.

“Should I be?” You replied plainly, fiddling with the strings on his corset style top. He lifted himself to remove it, and you could see now that his nipples were pierced, which didn't surprise you in the least. You openly ogled his bare torso, so very well sculpted, running your hand down the center of his chest.

“You're part of my hoard now, I'm only ever gonna protect you,” he said softly, leaning down and brushing his nose against the crook of your neck. You didn't mean to but a quiet whimper escaped you as his fangs brushed against your pulse point, the threat of his bite making you a little horny. He could smell it, your growing arousal, and made a deep rumbling sound that vibrated in his chest, entirely pleased at the sweet smell that now overwhelmed the previous scent of fear. He looked and sounded dangerous, but it only added to his allure, and you couldn't help but roll your hips towards him, dragging your core against his tail with a needy whine. You knew what you were, you knew you had secret desires to fuck monsters, you'd seen parts of the internet your parents would disown you for. This strange new form catered so well to those primal desires, arousal building quickly as you watched the light catch against his fangs. The growling sounded again, this time accompanied by movement between your legs. You pushed him off you slightly to look, eyes widening as you watched two vibrantly pink appendages, tapered to dull points and lined along the undersides with bumps, emerge from the slit on his tail. You realised with a gasp what you were looking at. Two of them, oh fuck there were two of them. This world was the fucking best, you should have gotten hit by a bus years ago.

“Is this okay?” He asked, watching you stare at his two cocks, suddenly feeling a little self conscious. He didn't often show this form, let alone to women he hoped to bed.

“Heat, I mean this in the most genuine way possible,” you replied, fire pooling at your core, “fuck me, please”

“Are.. are you sure?” He asked, sitting back on his tail, feeling a little unsure of himself. Once again his low self-esteem told him this was a trick, he'd always had trouble accepting compliments at face value, especially since receiving his Glasgow smile.

“Why would I not be?” You asked him, cupping his face and running a thumb over his scarred cheek, he looked as though he might cry any moment. Sweet soft boy, this was why you loved Heat so much. You couldn't understand his unease though; he was massive, ripped with muscles, incredibly cool and scary in a way that made you hot with those fangs and horns. His tail was beautiful, you wanted to touch it, not to mention his two cocks that looked even thicker and longer than his human dick. Why would you not want him? “Heat, are you okay? You seem nervous. Am I being too forward?”

“It's just… I don't usually… show this side of myself to women,” he admitted, “unless I'm paying them… I'm scary enough as it is in my human form”

“Oh Heat,” you cooed, understanding now his anxiety, “you're beautiful, and incredibly sexy. Can I touch you?”

“Y-yes,” he stuttered, laying back against the mattress next to you as you guided him to relax with gentle motions. You sat up to reach more of him, running your finger down his well sculpted abdomen, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind on his skin until your hand met the spot where his scales began. The scales were smoother than you expected, even if you moved against the grain you didn't catch the edges of the tightly knit scales, though there was a pleasant bumpiness to them. You wondered how it would feel to slide against them, feeling yourself grow wetter at the thought.

He whimpered a little as your hand ran down his tail, feeling the smooth scales under your palm, considerably hotter to the touch than you expected. You wondered if he'd ever been touched like this; if he'd only ever been with women in this form when they were paid, perhaps nobody had ever taken the time to truly explore this form. You moved slowly, running your hands over his entire tail, hearing his small whines as you played with the tapered tip that flicked a little as you touched it. Curiously you brought it to your mouth, and he groaned as you ran your tongue over it, draping an arm over his face as he flushed bright pink.

“Ah- ah- sensitive-” he whined, the tip of his tail almost vibrating in your hand. You took it in your mouth and he gasped, his chest heaving as you sucked on the tip of his tail. He was breathing heavily as you let him go, and you stripped off your clothes before straddling his tail, pressing your wet core against his scales. “You can- you can ride me if you want,” he said shyly through heavy breaths.

“Do you want me to ride you, Heat?” You asked mischievously, “Do you want me to use your tail however I like?”

“Yes, yes,” he whined, “use me however you want princess, please”

You shuffled to get a little more comfortable before you pressed down hard and began to grind against him, the strange new texture feeling surprisingly good against your cunt, slick transfering to his tail and lubricating your movements and you rolled your hips against him. You immediately struggled to hold back your moans, having been throbbing with need at the mere sight of those two proud cocks that sat in front of you and the way he whimpered at every delicate touch you gave him, immensely relieved at finally getting some much needed friction. He sat up a little, supporting himself with one hand while the other held your hip, helping you find more pressure as you grinded on him. Heat's eyes were wide as he watched you enjoy his tail, never in his life had anyone used him in this way, your juices glistening against his iridescent scales as the wet patch grew larger with every roll. His cocks were twitching as he watched you, his eyes almost black from how blown out his pupils were. Precum leaked from his cocks just watching you pleasure yourself with his body. Heat thought you looked unbearably beautiful like that, lost in your pleasure on top of his tail, a shining jewel worthy of his collection. Never had he thought a woman would accept him like this, and yet somehow you seemed turned on by it, a fact he couldn't wrap his head around but certainly wasn't complaining about.

“Hnng, feels good~” you mewled, grinding faster as you felt that coil in your abdomen begin to tighten. Just having the opportunity to play with a beast like Heat was making you hotter, his tail slapping excitedly against the mattress behind you as your orgasm drew close. You looked down at his two cocks, twitching with need in front of you, noticing now the way the piercings on his human form seemed split between them, with two ladders in the higher shaft, and the remaining ladder and tip on the lower, though being that he no longer had defined heads to his cocks, the tip piercing was considerably lower down his shaft. There were swollen bumps along the underside of each that you had no doubt would feel incredible inside you, the bases of each shaft incredibly thick and tapering to the pointed tips, comparable to tentacles. Precum beaded at the tips and rolled down the undersides, your eyes following the beads as they travelled, making you unconsciously lick your lips. They were not unlike the dildo you had back home, and your moans grew harsh just looking at them and considering what one would feel like inside you, knowing you surely couldn't take both, and suddenly your coil was snapping violently, gushing your release over his tail and shaking on top of him as you struggled to stay upright.

You gave him a crooked, fucked out smile as his tail supported your back, still twitching a little in the afterglow of your orgasm. You slid yourself backwards, leaving a wet trail along his tail as you shuffled down it, until you were far back enough to lean down and run a tongue against his lower cock, taking the other in your hand. They were almost scaldingly hot to the touch, but it didn't deter you from running your tongue up one then the other, playing with them with your tongue, like a greedy child with two icecreams.

“They're so big,” you purred, “how am I gonna fit them inside me?”

“I can warm you up,” he offered, “with.. um.. with my tail. If you want.” He'd always wanted to penetrate someone with his tail, but given how scared people usually were he hadn't ever dared to suggest it. He had a feeling though, given your enthusiasm for this form, that perhaps you would be willing.

You looked up at him wide eyed, was he really offering to fuck you with his tail? “Oh fuck yes,” you replied eagerly, arching your back so your pussy was more exposed behind you. You felt the movement underneath you as his tail curled and shifted, until the tip was brushing against your bare cunt. “Hnng, yes, fuck. Fuck me with your tail Heat~”

You both whined as his tail rubbed against your pussy, searching for the entrance, successfully finding it and sliding in. Heat was slow and careful, he'd never tried this before but he knew his tail was sensitive, so he'd wanted to try this for a while. It didn't feel as good as getting his dick wet, but it was pleasant and sent shivers through him as he felt your gummy walls squeezing around him. You licked at the tips of his cocks, holding them together to take both ends into your mouth at once, moaning around them as his tail pressed in further and began to stretch your cunt, thrusting in and out slowly. You switched your focus to one cock, still servicing the other with your hand, bobbing your head at the same pace as his tail was pumping into you. You couldn't hope to take all of him in this form, his girth far too much at the base for your lips, but you could get a good two thirds in before the corners of your mouth stung too much from the stretch.

He pushed his tail into you further, getting it close to the girth of his cock, getting you used to the stretch. He didn't want to get you entirely stretched out, he wanted to feel your tight cunt struggling to take him when you finally sunk down on him. His tail curled inside you, focusing on your sweet spots, making you vibrate his dick with your sweet moans until you let his cock go with a pop. “Ahh, gonna cum, fuck,” you whined, your hands pumping his two cocks in a messy unfocused pattern as he fucked you faster and a second orgasm ripped through you, juices dripping down Heat's tail.

“Want- want your cock,” you whimpered, practically collapsing on him. You had hoped to ride him while you held those pretty horns but you simply didn't have it in you anymore, your legs turned to jelly and shaking.

Heat rolled you gently until your back was against the mattress, your thighs wrapping around him as he laid on top of you, hooking your ankles together behind where his ass would be. You felt his cocks heavy against your abdomen as he looked at you like you were the most precious thing he'd ever seen, his delicate human treasure. “Please,” you whined, feeling unbearably empty without his tail in you.

“Shh, I'm gonna give you what you want, my jewel,” he cooed, reaching between your bodies to position his lower cock, the thin tip easily sliding inside as the higher one laid against your clit. You took most of him with ease, his tail having prepared you well, until he began to reach the thickest part of his cock and your cunt began to strain against the stretch. Heat groaned as he bullied himself into you, whispering praises as he bottomed out, the tip of his cock brushing against your cervix and making you wince. He withdrew a little, not wanting to hurt you, until the pain melted from your face.

“Look at you, taking me so well,” he groaned, sliding back out slowly and pushing back in fast, making you practically scream. He made harsh thrusts, unable to restrain himself now that he was buried in your heat, grunting with each deep slide of his cock, the additional stimulation of his higher cock grinding against your clit with every thrust making you moan loud enough for the whole ship to hear. “Good girl, fuck, good girl,” Heat grunted, the wet squelch of his cock in your soaked cunt filling the small room. “Sweet little treasure, all mine, all fucking mine,” he growled, his speed picking up as his fingers left bruises on your hips, claws sinking in and pricking your skin. “So pretty, my jewel.”

“Ah, Heat, so good, so good,” you whined, making your own marks on him as your fingernails dug into his back. The way the base of his cock pressed hard against your g-spot with every deep thrust was making your coil pull tight again, a fucked out smile spread on your face and your mind entirely lost to the pleasure Heat was giving you. He felt your pussy flutter around him, incredibly aroused as he saw that grin on your face and the way your eyes were rolling, your tits bouncing with each thrust.

“Ahh fuck, gonna cum,” Heat whined, his pace turning desperate and erratic as he got lost watching your breasts bouncing, “so pretty, so fucking pretty, gonna cum”

“I wanna- I wanna be covered in it,” you moaned, reaching down to jerk off the cock that wasn't inside you. He made a sharp whine as you pumped him fast, your walls clamping down around him giving him the final push he needed to finish, doing his best to work you through your orgasm before he pulled out and held his cocks together, jerking himself off till impossibly hot cum shot out in ropes across your abdomen and breasts, your thighs squeezing tight around him as your body shook.

Heat collapsed next to you, his cocks slowly retreating back into his slit as you both panted hard. Your stomach was coated in his seed and you couldn't help but run your fingers through it, playing with it while your clit throbbed from overstimulation. “So hot,” you sighed between heavy breaths, “that felt so fucking good.”

“I'm glad you enjoyed it, my treasure,” Heat purred, rolling to his side and intertwining his tail with your legs. Heat felt unbelievably accepted and vulnerable in this moment, having never experienced such pleasures with a woman in his true form. He felt wholly accepted, the anxiety and fear of rejection he felt at the start entirely wiped away. “We should get you cleaned up though”

“Mmm, I could do with a shower,” you mused, making circles in the hot cum on your stomach with your index finger. Heat near purred at the way you willingly rubbed his scent into you by playing with his cum, only further adding to his possessiveness.

[Next Chapter]

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[tf-center]

You were laying in your bed when you heard your apartment door open, I was your roommate stumbling in drunk. You didn’t think much of it and went to sleep. The next morning you woke up to find your roommate had transformed you into a pair of underwear while he was drunk. You laid on the floor for hours waiting and hoping he would remember and change you back. Your roommate walked in naked and looking for a clean pair of underwear to wear. He spotted a fresh pair lying on the ground and picked you up. You watch in horror as he pulls you up his legs and onto his crotch. His dick is now pressed against your face and there is nothing you can do. He finishes getting dressed and heads to the gym. He worked out for two hours drenching you in sweat and musk. You try again and again to get his attention and to escape from the sweaty hell but he doesn’t even notice. Your roommate heads home and you hope that this would mean that this hell is finally over. He gets home and lays in his bed. You keep praying that he will take you off soon but to your horror his dick starts getting hard and pushes against you. He rubs his dick through your form and you can’t help but shutter as you feel a bit of pre soak into you. He starts to masturbate; his 13 inch cock pushing against you. He strokes his dick faster and faster until he climaxes covering you in his cum. He finally takes you off and throws you in a pile of other dirty cloths and goes to sleep while you lay there covered in sweat and cum crying realizing this is your life now.