#and his stupid pink lips and fat bottom lip

[fandomfluffandfuck]

Ykw... I rlly thought all those images and gifs of Steve were edited but his lips rlly are just THAT pink and plush in the movies huh

related to this

Oh yeah, fuck yeah, Chris Evans has unfair DSLs editing or no editing 😮‍💨😮‍💨

Motherfucker

[screampied]

✧ ⁺˳ cw. fem! reader, unprotected, vīrgin gojo, established relationship, doggy, whiny gojo, premature ejac, mdni.

loserboy gojo who’s so confident to fuck you stupid once you give him a chance but folds the moment he goes inside raw for the first time.

he blabbers and blabbers to you on a daily of how there’s over ten thousand nerves in the clit, how he’s just so ‘good with his fingers’ and even brags at how his good his strokes are.

but the moment he’s leisurely delving his cock into your sopping walls, ogling at how easy his blushing pink tip disappears onside you, he grunts. so warm, you’ve got the stretch that’s so gripping that it practically gives him whiplash. “ngh, such a pretty girl, thaaaat’s it,” a single breath rips from his windpipe, combing a few fingers against the fat edges of your ass. you moan, instinctively wriggling your hips against his pelvis and he hisses. “fuck, fuck baby, godddd.”

and already, he’s a mess.

naturally sheeny slick lips rub against each other as he digs his slender fingers, slender fingertips into the soft parts of your flesh. gojo’s shaking, he’s never felt it from the inside, he’s shaking so much that it’s almost mouthwatering. a swirling pool of saliva starts to fill inside his mouth as he’s gradually trying to make a thorough piston of his hips. “s- satoru, harder,” you moan, and you feel his dick twitch inside of you almost immediately.

as he’s deepening himself inside, he shudders.

by now, his eyes become droopy.

gojo stares at your body, perfectly arched and hunched over.

as you’re in such a lewd position of doggy, a plump, sweaty thumb of his traces against the curvature of your body.

“s- sooo pretty,” he coos out, and he’s feeling the crazed repetitive throb on his tip accelerate. each second he spends inside, trying to give you every inch, he’s about to lose it. he’s panting, huffing out short breaths as the squelches of your cunt makes him ten times harder. once his hips finally start, he yanks onto the back of your shirt. the fabric makes a shrilling riiiip and you could hear it tearing a bit from his feral grip. “ugh, ‘s warm inside baby, ‘m not gonna last.”

and he doesn’t last—

all that talk about fucking you stupid, making you moan his name, and he’s the one babbling yours.

lengthy snowy lashes squeeze themselves tight as he’s barely even giving you any pumps. he’s practically humping your cunt like a pillow, trying to memorize specific positions from this one thread he’s read. a thread that had a title of ‘how to fuck a girl right, no clickbait.’

and of course, with a smug conceited grin, satoru clicks the link, jotting down everything in his notes.

he was gonna be the best you’ve had.

yet, the moment he’s stuffed inside your sloppy pussy, he could barely last a few seconds. because as his breaths continue to grow raspier and raspier, he’s already cumming.

it shoots out quick— it’s hot, velvet ropes pour inside between your folds as he’s trying to reel you back against him.

clashing, rutting hips that come to a brief halt once he realizes he came too quick. pretty lips curl into a surprised ‘o’ and his husky grunt makes your own cunt pulsate. his hits against you was sloppy, rhythm barely able to keep up a pace. you’re on all fours, feeling his entire cock from his flustered crown plug you in until you feel his body rumbling against you.

“o- oh, fuck fuuuckkk,” he whimpers, trying to thrust some more but he’s already finished.

out of all the enemies he’s fought, gojo satoru was never no match for your sweet, sweet cunt.

the real villain,

he’s feeling himself dump into you raw and he can feel droplets of drool dribble down his chin.

it’s so tepid inside, sweltering your gummy walls up to your womb with his sticky, oozing cum. you moan, raising your ass up as he’s still got clammy fingertips burying into the depths of your skin.

you’ve got him drooling for more, heaving heavy pants exiting from his full lungs and his bottom lip quivers. he watches with docile, blown irises at the way your pussy sucks it up.

he’s dimwitted, witnessing as a pretty milky, translucent form around his weighty base. his tip was a reddened pink, and the thought of pulling out only makes him whimper. he’s addicted, and more importantly, he’s whipped.

a bundle of slender fingers wisp near your runny, full pussy before he swipes a thumb across, getting a taste himself.

“y- you taste so sweet with my cum,” he hiccups, hissing almost immediately after you teasingly jerk your hips back against him. “ngh, baby. wish you could see this mess. ‘s sloppy ‘n so pretty,” and he’s still buried deep, to the very hilt before slowly pulling out.

the moment gojo does, your folds gradually emits out his seed and it’s so sexy.

the way his sloppy seed bubbles out, he licks his lips, a feral look burning against his pupils for more. more of you.

he could watch this view all day — you’re curling up your toes in blissful rapture as you feel his bright, blue eyes burn into your backside. “god, ‘s gonna spill out. hold on, baby.”

“s- satoru,” you whine, and that’s when you heard a bit of shuffling. without even thinking, he gets down and flicks his tongue against your soddened cunt, lapping up the bitterly sweet taste of his own cum. he moans against your entrance, burring low grunts vibrate against your clit before his faint sucks turn into filthy slurps. “mh, good boy, ‘toru. jus’ like that.”

and he feels his flaccid dick twitch at your praise. gojo reaches down toward his twitching shaft, a big hand wrapping around it before stroking it off to your sweet, melodic voice. “again,” he whines, his rickety hips now humping against the thick cloudy bedsheets. as his nose brushes up against your pussy, he continues to drink you clean, swirling the tip of his feverish pink tongue against the mess he created.

“call me a good boy, w- wanna be your good boy, baby.”

[norikuna]

♩ (mdni) abstract — semi-public sex, in a library, fwb, canon!gojo x afab!reader

fwb!gojo satoru who's the cockiest man that you've ever seen. sure he's the strongest sorcerer of the modern day and age. and he's a good teacher to his students. but he doesn't give a fuck about deadlines, or being a decent coworker, or being polite and quiet in the staffroom — and it's enough to send you up the wall.

he also doesn't give a fuck about being quiet when he's drilling his solid inches into you. gojo clearly doesn't care for noise when he's got bruising fingertips pressed into your hips. when he's got your staff uniform pulled to the side so the fat tip of his cock can slap thick wisps of pre against your clit.

"ya' can feel that right, sweets," gojo's chuckling, teasing and so full of himself as he sees you sink your teeth into your lower lip, trying to keep your whines quiet, huffing and snapping at the shell of his ear.

"y'know we hafta' be quiet, right, mmph — satoru!" you don't get to finish admonishing him because he swallows your concerns in a messy kiss, all clashing teeth and tongue as he slowly pushes his fat tip past your glossy, winking entrance.

and what a sight, to know that this is how you can undo the most powerful man to walk the earth, to see his pale-pink lips drop open as his blue eyes glaze over. to know that he's losing himself in the tight heat of your pretty cunt, and he's not even halfway in yet.

"s-sorry, what was that, sweets?" he's gasping into the crook of your neck, a large hand on your thigh, manoeuvring your leg wider so he can slot his frame in between your legs, "didn't quite catch t-that, woah. it's like she's got magical powers or something." all sleazy grins and bashful smirks as he pats at the mound of your groin, right where his own hips are now tacked to yours, glistening.

"charming, satoru," you breathe out, trying not to let on that you're just as affected as he is, "b-but the students, they're gonna — hnngh," your words are cut off as he bottoms out with a slick pop! but you're never one to give up, digging your nails into the nape of his neck, pulling him closer. you thread your fingers into the soft hairs of his undercut, letting satoru practically purr above you, "they could walk in any minute, don'tcha think?"

it's clear that it's not a pressing concern to gojo right now, because he just suddenly leans back, rolling his hips slowly into yours so each angry and thick vein must be swabbing your insides, "ya' think too much, sweets. there's, hah, none on campus right n-now," and he bestows a shiny, spit-slick kiss upon your waiting lips again, "it's just you and me, ohhh — and her 'course."

you respond with a strong clench of your gummy walls around his cock, and the hand that wasn't holding your thigh up ends up slamming down hard on the oaken desk, sending books and stray papers to the floor as he huffs, "w-whoops, yer' just takin' me in sooo good, fuck, i really needed this sweets, ya' got no idea. stupid higher ups got me run dry. and you looked s-so damn good in that meeting, couldn't focus," and he's babbling now, "couldn't focus and knew i had to sneak ya' back out here, get you on my cock."

you swipe a thumb over his candy lips, all mint and sugar, as you mewl in pleasure, having him batter your guts over and over so you're imprinted against his sculpted abdomen, "you gon' pull outta me if i make a stupid joke about me milking you dry?" and gojo snickers but it quickly turns into a breathy moan, "tch, ya' don't think that's w-what i want? always so good at doin' this. why don't ya' just let me take you out properly?"

[writingwisterias]

Day 15: Corruption Kink

Sugar Daddy! Leon Kennedy x AFAB! Virgin! Reader Warnings: SMUT, MNDI, Corruption Kink, Virginity, Virginity loss, Implied Age- Gap, Masterlist

You looked so small in his jacket as he led you through the restaurant. The worn leather hid how short your skirt was to the other men in the bar. He had texted you after a hard mission, offering you a large sum of cash that was more than enough to cover your expenses for the month. You were a special treat in the sugar daddy world, one that Leon is always thankful he got you first. A completely untouched treat, ruined by no one else but him when you would eventually give him the chance. It was shameful for him to admit how many days he had spent fisting his fat cock to the thought of splitting you open for the first time. Having your pretty little canal stretching to his size and no one else's. You agreed to keep meeting up with him because he accepted your virginity, not rushing you into anything you weren't ready for. His hand was large on the small of your back, the heat of it penetrating the layers. 

Leon would admit your outfit choice pissed him off today, the short skirt showing off far too much of your thighs than he liked. Part of him always felt like he owned you, after all, he did pay for everything. Those red bottom heels didn't come from your paycheck. 

He was only rushing because his cock was throbbing against the zipper of his trousers after your admission tonight, a promise to treat him for the extra money he gave you. He didn't care he went over your agreement, you deserved it compared to his usual expense of bottles of alcohol. Yet you were so kind and innocent to offer him this gift. He was practically speeding home, the throb ticking like a time bomb as he raced home. The thought of your pussy alone enough for him to cum. After all, that's all he's had to work with for many months. 

You gulped at the size of it as he sat you down on the sofa, demanding he go over what you were comfortable with before he forced himself on you. Your innocent eyes slit through him like a razer as your gaze drifted from his cock to his face. “Are you sure you are okay with this? I don’t want you to feel like you have to” He spoke, his words clipped short as you continued to look up at him with doe eyes. ‘Fuck’ he muttered under his breath. You nodded, the words unable to form as you were in new territory. Your nerves were on end, the unfamiliar throb of your pussy wasn’t helping. “I need you to use your words sweetheart” He spoke, his fingers cupping the side of your head. Your eyes followed him as he knelt in front of you, his eyes scanning your features for what you didn’t know. “I’m okay with it, I want it to be you” 

Leon swore his knees buckled to the floor with your admission, his breath faltered at your sweet smile. He held his hand out, enjoying how small and soft yours was in his hands. He led you to the bedroom slowly, the only room in his house you hadn’t been in. Your breath shook in anticipation as you waited for him to take the lead. Leon began to kiss down your neck, sucking on your soft skin gently. He admired the skin darkening with his claim. Your hands gripped his forearms - grounding yourself with him. His fingers drifted to the hem of the stupid skirt, “This pissed me off today you know? Letting all of those ungrateful twats see these thighs” 

“I’m sorry, I just wanted to look nice for you” 

You whimpered as he squeezed the flesh, holding onto it as he dropped to his knees. His hands pulled on the fabric tugging it down your hips until it pooled on the floor beneath you. Leon's lips kissed your cunt through the fabric of your underwear, his fingers toying with the sweet little bow sitting on the elastic. Your hands wove their way into the blond strands, accidentally tugging him closer to feel his lips again. The fabric of your underwear grew wet with his sloppy kisses, the light pink turning dark. Leon stood up again, towering over you as he walked you to the bed. He was gentle as he laid you against the bedding, his weight lightly crushing you as he ground his hips against your covered cunt. 

He slid your underwear down your legs, exposing your pussy to him. His mouth instantly attached itself to the untouched folds. You tasted sweeter than he ever imagined. His tongue worked to warm you, make sure you were relaxed and ready for his intrusion. Your thighs wrapped round his head, pulling him closer to your folds. You whimpered when flicked his tongue over you clit, sucking on it softly to release more of the sweet sounds. The pleasure he was giving you was white hot, so much better than your delicate fingers as you attempted to explore what it felt like. The sounds you were making flushed your cheeks when they reach your ears. His occasional glance from where he was devouring you caused your legs to tighten. 

He allowed you to have your first orgasm, greedily sucking on the juices you lovingly splashed over his face. He saved a few drops, spreading it over your folds soaking them as his other hand worked on his trouser buttons. Discarding every piece of clothing on himself. For his age he was more attractive than you though, scars littered his skin showing off stories he had yet to tell you. A map of everything he had been through. 

He could see your nerves show as you watched him line his beading tip to your entrance, the intrusion uncomfortable but not unwelcome. “I’ll be careful alright, Tap my arm 3 times and I’ll stop” 

You nodded, taking in a deep breath as you felt him penetrate you, his cock splitting you open. He groaned at the way your split around his cock, your whining music to his ears. He inched slowly careful not to give you too much as once. Leon grinned as your face turned from pain into pleasure. His movements slow as he continues to stuff his cock inside you inch by inch. Your hands gripped at his forearms, nails digging crescent marks into the skin drawing blood. He kissed your neck sucking on your pulsepoint to ease the pain - to focus on something else as he finally bottomed out letting you adjust to his size. He lifted your top exposing your breasts to him. 

They were soon blessed with his blossoming marks, all small ways to distract you as he finally began to move. His thoughts ran wild as he stripped you of your innocence. Forever thankful he was the one to do this to you, to be the first one to experience every grip your velvet walls gave him. To watch the twitch of your clit each thrust he gave you. It wasn’t long unitl he watched your body squirm with your second orgasm. The sensation still unfamilar as he worked through it with you. He groped your breasts, watching them bounce as he finally released himself with you.

Leon was quick with aftercare, working hard to pull you into his arms, holding you close against his chest. His fingers combed through your hair, whispering sweet nothings into your ear. He could wait to show you the kinky side to sex, exposing you to some of his deepest desires. Forming you into his kinky little dream.

Taglist: @kasueli @luvrgreyy @michellekmsh @miss0giarra @cinnabunnysavvy @redollface @my-loved-figure-skates @luvlouiee @drawboo22 @moth-quasar @nyxxoxo

[donatellawritings]

ON MY KNEES BEGGING TO KNOW HOW BFF!RAFE FEELS ABOUT LATINA READER GETTING DRUNK OR DOING COKE LLAPLSPLSPLS!!!!!

you were the prettiest girl at the party. all tipsy and glossy eyed, plump tits on full display as they bounced around in your skimpy triangle bikini, the fat of your plush ass cheeks poking out from underneath your lily pink juicy couture miniskirt as you pranced your way around topper’s backyard, dior kitten heels sporadically clicking against the cobblestone pavement. your bronze skin shimmered under the warm sun, shiny blown out hair flowing against the slight breeze as you found yourself topping your head back, the bff locket that rafe had bought you just a few weeks against glinting as the smooth shot of tequila slid down your throat.

you loved pool parties — even more so, now that you were able to properly debut the new fuschia diamond butterfly belly ring that dangled and shined with each sway of your hips.

scrunching your cute little button nose, you let out a shaky exhale, the burn of the alcohol now dull as you quickly shoved the bitter slice of lime between your shiny and swollen lips, “papito, that burned!” you whined with a short and breathy laugh, shuddering as chills ran across your warm body.

“yeah? told y’that s’gonna be your last one tonight, a’ight?” rafe tuts, gently pulling the now wilted slice of lime from your mouth, while swiftly removing the shot glass from your small hand, his gaze on you firm as you hold up your arms with forced pouty lips, “c’mon kid — can’t carry y’around right now,” he sighs, running a quick hand over his tight jaw.

rolling your eyes you poke out a wobbly bottom lip, your gaze unsteady as you stumble into rafe’s chest, “i thought y’were my best friend, papi!” you mumbled, completely obvious to the way your needy words made rafe’s stomach flip.

drunk and all, you always knew just how to get rafe to give into your every little stupid whim — so, you saved ‘papi’ for when things had to go your way.

gently grabbing you with a light pinch of your cherub cheeks, rafe looks you over, your dewy bambi eyes struggling to remain straight, “hey! cut it out, this is why i didn’t want y’drinkin,” his hand squeezes just a bit tighter, his brows furrowed as he watches fat tears well up at your waterline, “don’t start that cryin’, mama — i will take y’home,” he reprimands lowly, his bright blue eyes stoic and stern.

it was all too much for you. the blaring trap music, your tummy swirling, brain fuzzy from all the alcohol, and now your best friend was made at you? there was only so much that a delicate girl like you could take — so, all it took was that one empty threat to trigger the waterworks.

with a small sniffle, you take a quivering breath, “y-you’re mad at me?”

pursing his lips into a firm line, rafe shares a knowing look with topper who raises his hands up in surrender, “no, princess —”

“i just wanted t-to have so-some fun! m’sorry r-rafe,” you hiccuped, pulling your face out of rafe’s grip as you rushed to knuckle away your hot tears, your swollen tits jiggling with each uneven breath you took, “m’gonna g-go home by my-myself,” you heaved, your voice squeaky.

motioning towards you with wild hands, rafe shakes his head, defeated, at topper, “m’gonna take her crybaby ass home,”

ೀ

half awake, with the side of your soft cheek mushed against rafe’s shoulder, you kept your legs securely wrapped around his waist, semi-consciously wiggling your cute ass against his supporting hand. you couldn’t help yourself, rafe was so tall, and you were so pathetically drunk — you needed to be clung to him, and it warmed your pretty little heart.

“i looove you, papito,” you sang, pressing wet and sloppy pecks to the side of rafe’s jaw as he entered his bedroom with a relieved sigh. raising your heavy head off of rafe’s shoulder, you reach a dainty hand up to squish his cheeks together, with a sickeningly sweet giggle, “best friends forever, right?” you questioned, unfocused eyes all glazed and full of intense admiration.

letting out a sharp breath, rafe nudges your locket with his index finger — you were so out of it and loopy, rafe knew that he could say anything and you wouldn’t remember it, “always be y’best friend, until y’smarten up and be my girl. how does that sound, princess?” rafe smiles, unbuckling his belt with his free hand, his other still keeping you securely hoisted around his waist.

an exaggerated gasp leaves your faded glossy lips, “thought i was your girl already, papi?” you pouted, throwing your head back with a loud huff as rafe snakes a hand up to the back of your head, lightly pushing to get your teary gaze to meet his.

“no more cryin’, y’know exactly what i mean.” rafe reprimands gently, lowering you to stand on wobbly feet as you stumble backwards, “c’mon, mama — need y’to stand up just a little bit, yeah?” rafe grabs your elbow, his sober eyes set on you as you bite down into your bottom lip, far too deep in your drunken thought.

you loved your rafey and it broke your little heart to think that he believed otherwise — and maybe it was the alcohol talking, but you needed him to know that you were his girl through and through.

“maybe you can make me your girl, one day?”

cocking his head to the side, rafe breathes out a nervous chuckle, reaching up to scratch at the nape of his neck, “yeah, sweet girl — one day,” he assured you, his heart skipping a beat at the sight of you bouncing with utter joy, your shiny eyes beaming as you flop down into rafe’s bed.

letting out a sigh of content, your swollen lips ache from your stretched out grin, “m’gonna be your girl!” you cheer, your once drowsy state now turned to a hyper fit of excitement as rafe presses his lips to the top of your head.

[thesassypadawan]

Make Them Blue (A.J. X FemReader) *Blurb*

Summary:  It’s No Nut November and, like every year, your smooth criminal and the rest of his goodfellas are having a friendly competition.  Starting out strong aka avoiding you like the plague, he unfortunately falls when he comes home early on laundry day.

Warnings: 18+ (mdni), because there’s sooo much of the smut.  Fun from behind (giddy up), a washing machine, dom Man With The Plan, slight making fun of hat, and… A.J.’s big, fat dick.

Notes: Happy No Nut November all you, lovelies! 🤍💙

- “All right, gentlemen…  End of the month, ante up…  Let’s see that cash…”

- Perched on the arm of his chair, you watch with mild interest as each took a turn.  Poking fun, taking cheap jabs at one another.  Retelling their own screw-up stories while they slowly make it around the circle.  Setting varying stacks on the table along the way…fanning them out for all to see who lost worse.

- So far the amounts haven't been too exorbitant, at least not in terms for these goodfellas.  A cool thousand here, an easy two there…even two and a half.  However, when it finally came to your smooth criminal's turn.

- “Five…grand?  FIVE GRAND?!”  Jake exclaims, smacking A.J firmly on the back.  Shaking his head, laughing heartedly with the rest of the guys.  “How the mighty have fallen!  Man, this got to be good!”

- “Yeah, yeah,” he grumbles.  Setting his hat on the table, you run a hand through those fluffy locks.  “Well…”  While he accidentally reaches for your drink instead; making a slight, knowing face the second the taste washes over his tongue. “…I blame stupid laundry day.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

- Groaning above; he pins, presses you against the washer.  Inked arms caging you in on both sides.  He mutters low, gruffly; dragging his cock between your soaked folds  agonizingly slow.  “Walkin’ around the apartment, wearin’ MY shirt…nothin’ else?  Fuck…killin’ me, doll.”

- “So-Sorry…”  You barely manage to stammer out.  Fingers scrabbling at the cool, smooth surface.  Trying to center, but losing yourself more and more from the continuous jostling of the machine on your pleasure button.  From his fat tip teasing, occasionally catching on the rim of your needy hole.  “Not my fault that…that…”

- A loud, dry sob falls from your lips as he suddenly slams into…stretches, spreads you onto his thick length.  Almost feral growl rumbles in his chest when your gummy walls clench, grip in response.  “Bullshit, don’t lie to me!”

- Wasting no time, not giving you a moment to adjust; he sets a fast pace.  “Ya knew exactly what you were doin’…”  Pounding away roughly, brutally.  Nearly bottoming out with each wild drive.  Undoubtedly bruising your poor hips and backside.  “Workin’ me up, so ya could get what ya want…”

- Big hands grasp the rounded sides…hard.  Hard enough for his knuckles to turn white; to create small, slight dents.  “That’s it, huh?”  Giving himself the extra leverage needed to sink deeper; hit, bully your cervix.  Punching the air, weak gasps from your lungs.  “Admit it…say it…SAY IT!” 

- Tears fill, sting at the corners of your eyes.  Coil in your stomach wound so tight, slick running down your thighs.  “Jay, s-swear…didn’t think you’d be home to-today!”  Nails scratch frantically at the lid, a few chipping, breaking.  Leaving knicks and marks of pearly pink in their wake.  “Just wanted to…to get a few lo-”

- “You’re gettin’ a few loads, all right,” he grunts.  Speeding up further, putting his full weight behind those harsh thrusts.  “‘Til my balls are dry…”  You can feel him twitch, throb.  “‘Til I make sure we still win that money…”  Know that he’s about to pump you full, to the absolute brim.  That it’s too late to stop him from taking the biggest gamble of your lives.  “Somehow…”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

- “Somehow,” Jake echoes and scoffs.  Placing the smallest bundle on the pile, smirking at you two.  “Okay, let’s hear this ‘somehow’…before I collect my winnings.”

- “Go on, angel…tell ‘em,” A.J. chuckles.  Tapping your bottom affectionately, smiling up at you encouragingly.  “Explain why you’ve been nursin’ a pop all night.”

- Without hesitation, you fish something small out from between your cleavage.  “Might want to consider donating that jackpot…”  Happily setting the positive test on the table, mischievous grin on your face.  “…uncle.”

- Minute or two of silence falls over the group, followed by… 

- “You know what, here…”  Scooping up all the cash, Jake generously plops it into the upturned hat.  “Take it, get the kid whatever they need…just make sure it ain’t one of those ugly ass things.”

Tag List: @espinathena-17, @myheartwillgoon2022, @laylaplease, @princessswifie, @kenobiskywalker16, @loverforoldermen, @lotte08, @rafeswifeyy2, @exsamlockwood-kate, @sythethecarrot, @decaffeinatedunicorn, @fuckmyskywalker, @everydaydreamer, @jediavengers, @anisangeldust, @fredswrite, @xhunnybeeex, @vaderswifey, @anakinstwinklebunny

@littlelamy, @khoatic-with-no-energy, @raiwpenl, @malinadbbdh, @strokingforyou26, @xspacexwitchx, @em-21, @hearts4sammonroe, @shouldbetakencareof2, @loxbbg, @supersoldatbarnesstuff, @thesilentreaderrrrr, @theoriginalsinner28, @dumb-slut-things, @indigoblues1207, @ald6518, @julxstrawberry, @wh0sl0ttie, @tojis-missing-arm, @xoxo-hayden-fangurl-xoxo, @theladykassia, @doblasftcisco, @morguexmvp, @f4iryjinsworld, @nyxiesstuff, @heymamasblog, @justsomeimbicel, @prettywhenicry-777, @femme-is-typing, @maddis0n4, @ttdrake, @melmurkun, @brattyyybbg, @zara13ts, @bigaoibhe2024, @neocitywhore, @ter-luer, @ladyanaschmidt, @sarahflores07,  @death934, @dovepevensie, @adorebambie, @pookiswookis, @icecoldhearts, @elliemariscal, @allievalll, @moonlxght-tyler, @1-racha, @tosterwwannie, @inejghafawifesblog, @carlgrimeswifeofficial, @hellemo666, @pitas-star, @sapphirefrog-blog, @carlgrimeseyepatch, @melonmochi, @coldcupcakedinosaur, @juli007, @skyguy8108, @frogtowne, @jennasco, @nothinspecial1000, @burnthispls666, @dovepevensie, @xxxxxxctu, @abobiwan-kenobi

[redr0sewrites]

HI HELLO HII!! :3

i woke up today with no thoughts but edging blade and making him ride me.

I AM THE NUMBER 1 BOTTOM BLADIE ADVOCATE. i see every character as a switch but theres way too many top blade fics and i think he needs to be absolutely destroyed like if you put me in a room with him one of us is coming out pregnant and its not going to be me.

- liz (THIS GOT VERY WORDY FOR NO REASON SORRY HEJDKSKSJS)

AAAA UR SO REAL FOR THIS LIZ <33 sorry this took so long to reply to, i started this but stupid tumblr ate my progress so i had to restart 😒 ANYWAYS, I HOPE U ENJOY !!

🥀Cw: smut, AMAB!reader, sub!blade, overstimulation, marking, creampie, edging, breeding kink, overall filth

🥀minors dni

"p-please!" Blade moaned out, thighs quaking as you rocked your hips back up against him. He was straddling you, his neglected cock twitching as you forced him deeper onto your cock. "nghh puh-please, i wanna- i need to come..." blades stoicism had dissipated entirely, leaving you with the whiny mess currently grinding in your lap.

you had denied him of his orgasm 3 times already throughout the night, and he was becoming desperate. his poor cock was leaking precum, and his cheeks were flushed a hot pink as tears formed on his lash line. he was just so pathetic, he needed you so bad! who were you to deny him?

"aww, bladie~ why should I? tell me why I should let you come. are you being a good boy for me?" you smirked, thrusting upwards into his tight hole hard enough to make him sob.

"i- im being good! im your good boy! please- please- ngh- i need you so-oo bad" blade moaned, nails digging into your shoulders as your hand traveled up his chest to his nipples. you leaned forward, taking one into your mouth and kneading the other with your hand. suddenly, you twisted the hardened nub between your fingers while simultaneously thrusting up against his prostate and he squealed in pleasure. fat, glossy tears streamed down blade's cheeks as you began to pick up the pace, leaning back and thrusting up into him so hard he nearly toppled onto you. needy whines escaped his lips as you mercilessly railed him, forcing him to ride you. blade's hips grinded in tandem with yours, and you could tell he was nearing his orgasm.

"you close baby? t-tell me how bad you want it~" you choked out, a moan threatening to slip past your lips as he squeezed your cock so tightly.

"i- auhhg- p-please, please i need it, i need you, i needa' come o-oh-" blade was cut off with a scream as he arched his back, hips stuttering as his sought after high washed over him. Your eyebrows knitted together, you could feel your own release building in your orgasm.

"You want my cum, baby? want me to come inside, fill you up real nice? im gonna breed this precious hole, fuck you full of my seed~" Blade's mind went blissfully blank at your words, and you wrapped your hand around his neglected cock, stroking him roughly as he shook in overstimulation. He could already feel yet another coil of pleasure building in his abdomen as your thrusts became more sporadic.

"Ye-yes, o-oh yes, please master, i need you, nghh need your cum, want you to fill me up so bad, want it so bad-" your hips jerked up in a few final thrusts as bliss filled every nerve in your body. Blade let out a needy sob as you came inside him, his hole tightening so perfectly around you as a second orgasm shook through him unexpectedly. His cock coated the both of you in his release, and a ring of cum surrounded the base of your own dick still inside of him. With a soft whine, Blade collapsed on top of you and you chuckled softly.

"You tired baby?"

"mhm. Wanna sleep." with no reason to argue, you wrapped your arms around your lover as he nuzzled into your neck, and you gently pulled out of him. blade whimpered softly and you chuckled, gently running your hands through his hair as you both began to drift off.

bro i havent written smut in a hot minute so sorry if this sucks lmao- I LOVE BIG SUBBY MEN THAT NEED YOU SO BAD THEY JUST CANT GET OFF WITHOUT U!!! ANYWAYS FEEL FREE TO SEND IN MORE REQS I LOVE UUUUU HOPE U ENJOYED!

[tojislov3rr]

⊹ ⋆｡˚ - Hardcore dom!Toji x sub!fem reader

𝘾𝙊𝙉𝙏𝘼𝙄𝙉𝙎 - size difference, degradation/humiliation, angry sex, bondage (kinda), reader passes out, cowgirl, squirting, and breeding. Word count? i still don’t know how to check lol.

𝙎𝙢𝙖𝙡𝙡?

You and your boyfriend Toji were arguing back and fourth about some random small thing. He’s been coming home from work later, and with your trust issues, that wasn’t sliding with you. However, he was just getting caught up on more bounties. He’d kill himself before even thinking about being disloyal to you.

“God, you’re such an annoying slut.” He hissed out, his large arms crossing over his broad chest as he looks down at you with a dark gaze. Obviously— he didn’t mean that. You knew he didn’t mean that. But for some stupid reason, the words slipped out of your mouth— “and you’re a small dick loser who I have to fake my fuckin’ orgasms for!” You huffed out, an annoyed pout on your face as you see his gaze darken more when towering over you.

Why the fuck did you say that? You’ve literally passed out for his cock...

——————————————————————————

All thoughts were removed from your head as he picked you up over his shoulder effortlessly. Oh. That got to him, more than just his nerves.

You were now straddled on his lap, not even remembering clearly how long you’ve been here, but now your angry boyfriend is looking up at you with a smug smirk, the little scar on the corner of his mouth twitching up. His back against the headboard as he keeps his hands on your fingered- bruised hips. Your own hands tied up behind you in a cute little pink rope in a bow. (all your ropes were pink, per your request).

Fat, salty tears were burning down your face, dropping onto his lower stomach as he has your tight hole on his painfully large, angry, flushed tip. Twitching against you inside. “C’mon darlin’… If I’m so small and bad you should be able to do this ‘ya?” he purrs out, gentle pushing you down more, your cunt eargly gripping just below the tip, creating a glossy white ring.

“is’too big— m’sorryyyy..” You whine out, more tears flowing as your kiss bitten lips are stuck, plastered open in a silent scream. He was kind enough to put lube, (he always was). But damn, it was in no way helping with his stupid monster cock. He moves one hand from your hip, gently gliding it down your lower stomach until he reaches your swollen clit. Drawing small circles on it, just to ease to pain a little. He was still mad at you for calling him small and whatever else you said, but he didn’t want to kill your poor cunt too quickly. Where’s the fun in that?

“Toj— m’too sensitive!” you whined, your hips rocking against his hand against your will, your wrists straining against the small pink rope around them behind your back. “ya’ wanted to be a brat, and this is what brats get, hm? They get fuckin’ punished by their damn owners” He says, his voice a little choked as well from how painfully hard you were gripping his cock.

He smirked, looking up at you with innocent eyes, acting dumb. He continued to rub soft circles until your tears eventually subsided a little bit, your head falling forward and resting against his broad shoulder, your bare chests flushed against eachkther. Perfect, he thought to himself. He took advantage of that, moving his hand away from your swollen clit back to your hips, slamming all he can up into you. Bottoming out as his heavy balls press firmly against your ass.

A loud scream, a mix of pain and pleasure, rips from your throat. The air being taken straight out of your lungs as Toji’s unreal cock slams into your tight cunt, stretching it perfectly once more to his size and shape. His angry tip pressing harshly against your cervix, throbbing against your plushy walls. “O-oh fuck—“ he hissed out in pleasure, gripping your hips harshly as your head stays on his shoulder, feeling like you were about to pass out.

You swear you saw the pearly gates behind your eyelids. The sinful stretch feeling so painfully good as he stays still inside you. Feeling more warm tears flow onto his shoulder while you continue to moan and sob into him, your wrists threatening to break through the rope. But, truly, you were way too weak to do that. He loosened his harsh grip, rubbing small circles on your hip bones, his large hands easily holding onto the soft flesh. He kissed your neck a few times before whispering into your ear, almost breathless himself.

“you still think i’m small, pretty slut?… heh, you should see how stupid you look right now fucked dumb on my cock… and I haven’t even started moving.” He cooed in a mocking tone. He wished he could take a picture and keep this sight with him forever, for the lonley nights when you’re busy. So he can pathetically pump his cock too the sight of it. He softly grinds you with ease by your hips, making your cervix feel like it’s going to break.

“hmmm— m’so sorry baby—“ you choke out through more sobs and moans, which only makes his smirk bigger, giving you a kiss to your temple as you continue to rest your face against his shoulder. He responds with a harsh snap of his hips, lifting you up and slamming you back down, his own hips meeting you on your way down.

“shut up ya’ stupid slut, you’re only sorry because i’m proving you wrong~” he growls into your ear, a low groan escaping from the back of his throat from the intense friction between the two of you. You gasp again, more fat tears flowing down your face that now feel like acid as your tight cunt throbs and stings around him. But the pain felt so good, the way his fat tip was curved so perfectly inside your pussy, pressing against your spongy g-spot. It’s like your bodies were made for eachother.

“You’ve had yur’ mercy, now ima’ fuck the shit outta that pretty cunt. My pretty cunt..” He growls once more in your ear. Before you could protest, he easily lifts your limp hips up, slamming you down at an animalistic pace. Your arousal splattering all over his lower stomach and his heavy balls slapping up against you. His precum seeping in your pussy as he continues his relentless pace.

Toji definitely isn’t one to be ashamed about the noise’s he makes in bed. He also knows how much it turns you on with the way you clench down even more with every noise that escapes his mouth. “takin’ my cock so fuckin’ well, slut.. Almost feel bad for you… almost.” He says with a husky voice laced with fake sympathy in your ear, causing your plushly walls to convulse more around his angry cock as he bounces you up and down like some rag doll.

You tried to speak, only for more broken sounds to leave your sore throat. Your jaw slacked wide open. You could feel yourself reaching the edge of cumming, and passing out with each mean thrust. You felt his balls pulse under you, becoming tighter, meaning he was getting closer as well. “You’re going to take my fuckin’ cum deep inside your cute litte cunt, mama…” he purrs out against your ear, sucking and biting on the side of your neck while groaning.

All of his words went straight to your throbbing core, causing you to reach your release. Your body tensed up, louder broken noises leaving your aching body as you jolted around him, squirting on his lower stomach that drips down onto the bed sheets, your whole body trembling pathetically hard.

Feeling your release, Toji reaches his own. Slamming you down with one final thrust balls deep, coating and splurrting his warm seed deep into your womb. Shallowly fucking it up into you as you feel your vision go black and starry, your body going limp against his chest and your breathing becoming relaxed.

He chucked breathlessly, used to you passing out during times like this. You guys did have a safe word, so he wasn’t ever worried. Moving his hands from your bruised hips, he ran one through your hair, the other untying the small pink rope on your wrists. Letting your sweaty bodies stick together as he gently rolls the two of you onto your sides, wrapping his bear arms around you in a tight, safe embrace.

——————————————————————————

But he was going to clean up and take care of you as soon as you two both woke up the next day.

He knew he was going to get introuble tomorrow morning for not cleaning up, but he was exhausted too! :( — He gave your forehead a sloppy kiss and murmured on about how much he loved you while drifting off into his own peaceful sleep.

𝘼/𝙉: ☆ - 𝙈𝘼𝙎𝙏𝙀𝙍 𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏- ☆

[bambiesfics]

𝐄. 𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐦𝐬 𝐅𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 ♥️’𝐬 𝐌*𝐥𝐟𝐬 ╰₊✧ ﾟ

Part Two — [FIND PART ONE HERE]

ˎˊ˗ SYNOPSIS: You’re a yummy, soft around the edges older lady, with a post-partum body that jiggles in the most delicious ways. Ellie simply can’t get ahold of herself, every time she sees you, her pupils turn into pretty pink hearts, and her clit thumps in rhythm with her beating heart.

ˎˊ˗ A/N: This is a re-upload of my series fic! Part one is already written. But this can be read as a stand-alone!

𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐆𝐆𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝐈𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐄𝐋��� 𝐓𝐎 𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐒𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃. She was slammed with mental images of your puffy nipples, straining against that thin pink tank top, or the chubby crease of your ass, spilling out just past the hem of your denim shorts, how the back stitching was digging itself up into the crevice of your……

She shoved the heels of her palms into her eyes and bit her bottom lip hard. The metallic taste of blood filled her mouth and teeth with a corrosive warmth. Her bottom lip was red, swollen and had teeth shaped impressions.

What the fuck was she doing here? What the actual fuck did she think she was doing sitting on the curb of the house right next to yours, like some teenage dirtbag? She rolled her eyes. Folding her boney knees up to her chest, to softly blow cold air on them.

It was the only thing that helped the pain, after the faint cuts and scrapes slashed across itched and burned. Each crusted over gash reminded Ellie of how stupid she looked tripping off her skateboard like some fucking peon, 2 hours earlier. And now she was here, decompressing on your goddamn doorway.

As she brushed some of the gravel off her shorts, she was assaulted with the violently embarrassing memories from the skate park. There was no way those assholes at the ramp were going to see her cry, but she wanted to, so bad. Her knees hurt like a motherfucker after she fucked up the landing on her wheelie, and she paid for it with a mouth full of dirt and knees slashed by rocks. Ellie would eat shit like a champ, every fucking time. No matter how bad it hurts.

She wasn’t a kid.

But she sure felt like one now that she was sitting here, ankles crossed and hugging her knees. Near your crib instead of back home, at hers, where she should’ve been. She wanted to tell herself it’s because yours was closer. But it wasn’t, she knew it wasn’t. And yet she was still comforted by the thought.

Her head swung in the direction of your home.

“Nother’ fucking neighbour.”

It was the 5th time it had happened in the past hour. Ellie was tired of cracking her neck to the side, trying to see which person opened their door to leave all for it to be fucking neighbour. And like the previous 4 times it had happened, it was typically some suburban asshole. Like a random dad taking out the trash in Birkenstocks. Likely a lazy fuck who waited for his wife to nag him to get it done. Or it was some brat taking their dog ‘Charlie’ or ‘Bella’ or fucking ‘Fido’ out to take a fat shit on the front lawn.

And again, not one of those people were you.

This is why Ellie’s hedonistic inclination to avoid addressing her feelings head on, but instead choosing to shroud them in convenient excuse after convenient excuse was ultimately, destructive. Because now, she was taking it out on random neighbors and you for ‘gatekeeping yourself’ away from her, while she waited. Probably doing some old lady shit right now like Pilates.

She groaned aloud.

‘Gatekeeping yourself’ isn’t even a fucking thing. Ellie was just in pain, hurt and angered; humiliated. She was mad, at no one in particular. But maybe, herself.

She wiped the fat tear that rested on the apple of her pink cheeks and blew air into her cupped palms. Blowing away the little bits of sediment and gravel that were still stuck there. She repeated the action on her knees, bracing the sharp sting.

She sniffled and leapt to her feet, ignoring the angry rage of pain in her knees, before she dropped the skateboard onto the gravel. Her foot slid on, ready to push off and just fuck off from this part of your neighborhood.

“Ellie!”

“Ellie!”

“Ellie is that you?”

Ellie stopped to stomp on the back of the deck and flip the board up into her hand. You were there peeking from behind the door, holding open the heavy wood with the side of your plush body. You sized her up as recognition bloomed on your face.

God is real.

If there was ever a time Ellie flirted with agnosticism, she was repenting for it while staring at you. Because at that very moment, God was real. Especially because Ellie knew she looked like a grimey piece of shit. She knew she was a runny, mascara-stained mess, with fucked up knees and fucked up posture. And yet you’re here. Supple, mature and womanly as ever looking at her like she’s some little doll. God, why were you waving her over? Stop. Stop crooking your finger like that, please, before she goons in her cargo shorts.

“H-hi I was just skating through the neighborhood and—.”

“Ellie, are you okay? How did that happen? You’re covered in cuts!”

“I’m fine, on god, I just..I…fucked up a trick. got a bunch of these stupid scrapes to show for it” She rubbed the back of her head, sheepish.

“Ellie, you should be more careful next time. Come ere.’”

Your sad pout made her stand straighter.

She wanted to fuck that pout off your face. Or maybe fuck it on your face. Like how sometimes, when girls are fuzzy brained during a painful but good pounding, they get this little look on their face. It’s all sad and pouty and shit.

What she would give for you to have that sad and pouty expression while she carved her cock in you. Choking out moans like…

“Ellie agh slow down!” or “Ellie m’ so full inside. You’re stretching me thin.” or better yet an “Ellie I’m so sore from last night. Be more careful next time..”

She could imagine the last one so vividly she nearly shuddered.

If it wasn’t obvious before, Ellie was a supreme pain slut.

She blinked the thoughts away, and brought her skateboard in front of her crotch. Not that she could get a boner, but it was reflexive at this point. Something she’d picked up from her friends when they would brick up everytime a pretty girl & her friends came to the park.

You closed the distance between you two and wrapped a hand around her fragile wrist to pulled her inside. Ushering her to the nearest kitchen stool to comfortably treat the painful

cuts and scrapes.

A little part of Ellie wondered if you would put your tits in her mouth for her to suckle on, if she whined hard enough for it. You were such a natural at being motherly, doting and worried. You were here in mid-day august, about to tend to some skaters girl’s dumb boo boos. While you probably had better things to do, like watch an episode of modern family, or prep dinner for your family.

She chuckled to herself. Then squeezed her thighs together. Slipping into a fantasy of you supporting her head, as she greedily nursed and suckled from you. Sucking out of each tit until both nipples grew shiny with her saliva and puffy from her greedy suction.

She blinked rapidly to pull herself from the fantasy, and deflated in the stool.

God, what a stupid fucking delusion.

She mewled in the base of her throat as you came back from the kitchen, with a first aid kit in tow. You settled between her knees, gripping the crook of one knee to gently dab pats of alcohol. She winced and grit her teeth, breathing through the fire of the sting. But her pink face and shiny eyes betrayed her weak facade, and your heart ached. Poor baby girl, all you could do was whisper earnest sorry’s in between each dab.

As you nearly finished bandaging the raw skin, you peered up at her, seeing the way her brows knitted up and how she trapped her bottom lip beneath her teeth. Maybe it was the innate motherly instinct, but you felt the urge to kiss the little forehead wrinkles away, and stroke her hair until she was less tense. Despite your nerves, you cleared your throat. “Ellie what were you really doing out there all alone, hmm?”

Her cheeks reddened like a hasbro toy truck. Flaming fucking red, like how Jesse loved to describe it.

“I was at the skatepark with some twink—guys… I usually shred with. But I got winded so I took a rest top…on your lawn.”

“A rest stop huh?” You teased.

The excuse sounded like cheap shit even to her own ears but it was the best thing she could come up with in the moment, with the way you looked so worried. She was just grateful you didn’t notice her about to call her bestfriend a twink. Ellie didn’t want a lecture about bigotry from you, because judging by how clueless you’d been when it came to her attraction to you. That guaranteed you were also clueless about her being a raging dyke.

Ellie whistled “So uh..where’s your kid?”

“At grandma’s.”

Vague. She thought.

“My mother said she’d been wanting to babysit for a while now. So I decided to give myself a little time alone to enjoy the time being, I suppose.”

“I suppose?” God you were a

relic. No one born after the 2000’s speaks like that.

She mused.

“Ah, that’s so hot.” Ellie muttered, seconds before realization hit her and a deeper blush bloomed wildfire on her face. It was becoming increasingly humiliating to speak to older adults like they were her little fruitcake punk friends. You were a proper woman, not a scumbag. Ellie knew her lexicon needed a significant change if she hoped you’d ever take her seriously.

You laughed at her silliness, and patted her knee before walking away to store the first aid kit back in the kitchen. With each resounding thud of your footsteps

Ellie couldn’t help but drink in the way the ripple of your robe outlined your ass. The way the milky, thin fabric practically outlined the dark line that split both globes right in the…

She put her knuckle between her teeth and bit down. God she needed to leave.

You looked back to smile at her. But she was doing it again, not meeting your eyes. Matter of fact her gaze was somewhere else, and your stomach flipped because of it. Her bangs were curled beautifully around her face, and her lips were parted open, she wheezed each breath.

You reached up into the cabinet, to gently place the kit back, and dropped back onto the balls of your feet. Your buttcheeks jiggled with the drop. And you saw her bury a cough into her hand from your peripheral vision. Ellie crossed her ankles together and clamped them there.

Picking up the tray of ginger snap cookies you’d laid out for guests, you walked back towards her. Holding them out for her to take home. Ellie didn’t meet your eyes. Or your face. She pointedly looked at the letter magnets on the fridge.

She blinked rapidly. “Can I just…can I just use your bathroom really quick?”

“Yeah of course, it’s just up those stairs behind you. First door on your left.”

Ellie gave a wobbly attempt at a smile and scrambled off the seat. She stomped two steps at a time up the stairs, a habit she formed when she was a younger teen, she couldn’t break.

She flicked the lights on and took note of the spa-like ambience in your bathroom. The soft shell coloring and warm lighting. The bathroom smelled like you, like your clothes whenever she got real close to you.

She also wondered if you smelled like that down there too. If the scent of your body wash lingered on the inner lips of your vulva. If she split the lips apart, would she get hit with a whiff of your natural musk? Or the floral scent of peonies? She really needed to know.

She also knew she was a pervert.

But she couldn’t help it, you don’t even know how desirable you are, and you weren’t even trying. You were some sweet milf in an average ass fuck suburban neighbourhood, who was making a teen girl go fucking balls-to-the-walls insane to breed you.

Locking the bathroom door, Ellie shoved her low rise cargo shorts and boxers down her hips and dipped two fingers to play in her wetness. She shoved her right finger into her mouth to stimulate the prod of a nipple into her mouth as she ghosted a hesitant left finger over the supple skin of her pussy lips. Teasing the pleasure she was about to feel once she just split them open and rubbed the bundled nub. She sucked a whistling breath through her teeth and tipped her head back against the wall. It lolled to the side.

That’s when she saw it.

Lacy, bunched up, and barely enough fabric to even floss teeth with, was the lavender thong you left neglected in the corner of the bathroom floor. Probably from the shower you freshly took before you met her outside.

She shouldn’t.

She shouldn’t.

But fuck, she did.

Ellie scrambled for your underwear and pulled it apart. Searching for the spot she wanted most. The light reflected against the gentle shininess in the crotch, and she ran the pads of her fingers gently against the crotch, feeling the clear stickiness still left over from earlier.

Stuffing it against her nose she did the very thing that would probably get her put on some type of sex offender registry if you ever found out.

Ellie took a big sniff, and then another, and then another, and then several more until she was high on your scent. The sound in the bathroom was disgustingly wet as Ellie rubbed and slapped her clit over and over. Inching her fingers down to her hole to shallowly thrust and collect some slick before dragging them up again to add slipperiness along her slit. Confined within the walls of your small bathroom were the wet and messy sounds of a girl, getting herself off to your scent. And it confirmed her hopes, this was all your own scent, natural and musky.

Your underwear was permanently pressed up against her caramel freckled nose as she inhaled. She picked up her pace, going from rubbing over her wet clit to tapping and lightly pinching it.

Ellie was a pain slut.

Ellie kept up her feverish actions. And let the degenerate fantasy of rimming your asshole, licking the sweat off of the hole, on her knees, while you prepared some mid-day snacks, tip her gaping pussy hole to orgasm.

“Mommy play with me.” she whimpered pathetically.

God she was twisted.

She came all over her inner thighs. And pearlescent cum rolled down in droplets towards the porcelain of your toilet.

Using your toilet paper, she hastily cleaned herself and pulled her boxers back up.

The mental debate didn’t last any longer than 5 seconds before she shoved your panties into her back pocket and washed her hands. There was no point in her entertaining otherwise, she knew she was a degenerate.

Ellie ran straight down the stairs, the acrid feel of humiliation scratching up the back of her throat and making her head hot. She selfishly snatched a cookie off the flower dessert tray and kicked her deck into her hand.

“Ellie! Wait I got you a snack to take ho-“

She ran out the door and slammed the door aggressively. The glass pane in the window of the door shook for several seconds.

She was erratic.

But then the same door burst open again, and the antsy brunette ran back inside, stomped towards you and smashed her lips against yours. Slotting her lips inside yours and sucking your bottom lip into her mouth. Her hands came up nervously to grip the fat of your ass. Letting some spill between her spindly fingers. Massaging it.

Ellie kissed like a horny boy. When she pulled back, you wobbled into her. She caught you around the waist and let your heaving chests sync together.

But as if she gained sudden consciousness, an awareness of what the fuck she was doing, her eyes expanded wide, and her back went ramrod straight.

She took several steps back and ushered out “Why did I just fucking?—Oh God.”

She ran. She ran so fucking fast she forget she even had the skateboard in her hand. And pounded canvas sneaker to gravel all the way home.

Ellie didn’t know what type of disorder she developed that made her mind blank out, sexually assaulting hot milfs because she couldn’t mitigate a crush on a woman to save her life. But she needed to google a local psychiatrist's office and see how long the waitlist was.

Your mental state on the other hand? Yeah you were left speechless by the brash behavior of the little tomboy. Her aggression, perverted looks and obviously inappropriate feelings towards you left you breathless and reeling.

It could’ve been because it was technically legal, that Ellie thought it appropriate to attempt that sudden kiss. But that clearly didn’t mean it was a sound decision to encourage any kind of relationship. Jesus, did the girl think she was in a porno or something? That you were going to invite her upstairs and screw her brains out, hide her in the closet when your “husband” came back home too early?

There were a million and one thoughts going through your head. Yet every time you tried to plan an appropriate way to address what had happened, your mind was drawing nothing but blanks. And it followed you like that, all the way into the evening. Long after Ellie had ran out, long after you’d said goodnight to your toddler on the phone. And long after the sun had set, after the street lights turned on.

In the thick of the night, you shoved your favorite mini bullet deep until it was snuggled between your sticky pussy lips, warmed by the hug. You’d been vigorously searching for porn videos like “brunette x milf lesbian porn.” And “younger girl x milf lesbian porn.”

The vibrator buzzed on top of your clit, slinging pleasure up your spine while you humped against it. You rolled a chubby nipple between your fingers, and pulled at your tit so hard your nipple ached painfully.

“Nnngnnh” you had to squeeze your hole over and over.

You shakily clicked on a video, a bedroom scene where the babysitter pervertedly creeped on the mother as she undressed, and got off to it. You had an urge to cry, mounted by pleasure. You moaned a sob “Ell-lie.”

A rivulet of drool slipped out from your gaping lips and pooled at the sheets. You watched the brunette pervert turn the milf into a begging slut, pleading to not be fucked like a little whore. And the young one fucked her agressively anyway. Your head was fuzzy. You’d never been so turned on by a video.

You replaced the face of every scene with the brunette with the face of Ellie. With her freckles, plump lips and her tattooed arm.

You just closed your eyes and let the video tip you to a full body orgasm. Your hole was gaping and sucking in air, contracting around nothing for most of the night. Hungry to have some sweaty little girl plug them up with her tongue, or her fingers. For her to stretch the skin there around something, until it was thin. You slept the whole night as your hole gulped in air in search of something to plug it with.

You were going to find that little runt. Drag her back there and have a conversation with her about forcing a kiss on older women, then leaving her to deal with it in a puddle of their own slick.

-fin-

Requested Taglist: @elliewilliamsgf69 , @thesevi0lentdelights , @aouiaa , @endureher , @dangthatsareallyreallylongname5 , @elsbbg , @emilieebabyy , @seattlesellie , @coeurify , @elliesflower

[stvharrngton]

kinktober: day four

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

warnings: smut, 18+ minors dni, spanking, dom!steve and sub!reader, daddy kink

word count: 0.8k

taglist: @inkluvs @dukesmebby @sweetbabygirlsworld @kennedy-brooke @gvf23 @nix-rose @wheel-of-hyperfixation

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST

Tears pricked at your lashes as Steve’s hand came down on the plump flesh of your ass once again. The fourth, fifth or sixth time, you weren’t sure. Losing count when the sharp slap caused a rumbling in your lower stomach, arousal pooling in your panties.

You didn’t expect to end up here, laying across Steve’s lap as he spanked your ass. It was supposed to be a punishment but a punishment you enjoyed a little too much at this point. Something about being a little too brazen, a little too bratty. Pulling that poor guy onto the dance floor with you cause Steve wouldn’t pay you any attention, only to be dragged away by your jealous boyfriend, his chest rising and falling in anger.

The skirt you wore abandoned as soon as Steve got you home, your sweet little pink panties left on, the lace framing your ass just nicely. Your fingers clutching at the couch cushions, your teeth gritting with every slap.

“Have you learned your lesson, baby?” Steve cooed, large palm soothing over the reddening flesh.

The sound of his voice snapped you out of your daze, you could only stutter and stumble over your words in response, a feat that made Steve smirk all stupid.

“I’ll take that as a no,” he said, all cool and collected as his palm collided with your ass once more, causing a yelp to erupt from your lips.

He watched in amusement as your thighs clenched together, taking a moment to slide his fingers between your legs. Steve pressed the pads of his fingers against your panties, feeling how soaked the lace was, causing a low grumble in his throat.

You purse your lips, trying your best not to let a moan slip out as Steve let his fingers slip inside your pussy, barely up to his knuckles but enough to tease you, to send you reeling. Steve thrived on how you writhed on his lap, doing your best to not let on that you were enjoying this. It was supposed to be a punishment after all.

“Steve,” you whined, curling your toes as the knot built in your stomach. Your thighs clenched in desperation, trying anything to relieve some of the tension you were feeling.

Slap.

You winced at the sting, gnawing on your bottom lip to stop yourself from crying out. Steve was all riled up, cock straining against his jeans at having you like this, cheeks hot and gaze dark and lustful.

“Stevie, please,” you begged. You couldn’t take it much longer, the sweet sting a little too much, the coil in your stomach wound too tight, your pussy leaking all over your thighs, you needed more.

Slap.

“Wanna try that again, honey?” Steve purred, voice silky smooth yet assertive. His dominant personality shining through his desire.

“Fuck,” you whimpered, heat rising to your cheeks immediately, your head dizzy as you blurred out exactly what Steve wanted to hear, “sorry Daddy.”

Steve chuckled, a shit eating grin spreading across his face, his palm soothing the red skin of your plump ass, “That’s better, good girl.”

You whined at the praise, knowing that Steve was holding out on you to prove a point. To prove that no one could make you feel as good he could, that your pussy belonged to him and him alone. But you couldn’t take it anymore, you needed something, needed Steve’s fingers, his mouth, his cock, anything.

“Please, Daddy,” you cried, “want you to make me feel good, need to feel you.”

Steve scoffed at your demand, his hand still rubbing over the peach of your ass, his fingers skimming dangerously close to your cunt with every stroke. A gesture that was really driving you insane.

“Oh, is that right, huh?” He teased, pulling the waistband of your panties back until they snapped against your skin, “Want me to take you upstairs and fuck my fat cock into that wet little pussy of yours? You wanna cream all over Daddy’s cock, honey?”

“Oh,” you whined, it came out strangled, a desperate attempt at convincing Steve to give you exactly what you wanted, “pleasepleaseplease, Daddy, want it so bad.”

Slap.

This one sent shivers down your spine, something about the way he spoke, the filthy and downright dirty scenario Steve was expressing had you in a tizz. Your panties soaked and your skin red hot.

“Think you deserve it? ‘m not so sure,” he teased and any other time you would have cursed the boy but at this moment you knew it would put you right back at square one.

It was then Steve yanked your panties down so they sat at your thighs, his fingers plunging between the apex of your thighs, two digits pushing past the entrance of your cunt. He pumped his fingers slowly, once, twice, curling them in the process, making you cry out in pleasure.

“I suppose,” Steve hummed, “only if you can be a good girl.”

[chubbunnyy]

i so badly need some sort of desperate sex with john, like… him being a whiny bitch 🥴

AGREED. HEAVY AGREE.

John had you laid on his cot, your hands tangled in his stringy dark hair as he buried his mouth into your pussy. His tongue swirled around your clit before diving into your hole. You tugged his hair roughly, pulling him deeper inside which makes him groan loudly. You swear you could see him trying to hump something.

He nudges his nose against your clit and tightens the grip he has on your thighs. “Fuck, darling… taste so good…” He groans and picks up the pace. Your legs began to shake and you buck your hips upward. “God damn it, John.” You moan. You start to feel yourself getting close, a warmth pooling in your belly. “I’m close.”

You feel him smile against your pussy before he pulls away. “Yeah? Good.” He stands up, unbuttons his pants and pulls his cock out. He was hard. Like really hard. He strokes his cock a few times as he stares down at your naked body. God you were attractive. Every time he saw you like this he couldn’t help but get aroused.

“God… your body, darling.” He grabs your ankles and pulls you down so your ass is at the edge of the bed. He grabs your breast rather roughly which makes you moan. He chuckles and releases it. God. That stupid smile. It gave you butterflies every time.

“I’ve been needing you all day, seein’ you pickpocket those fools in Valentine today… God.” He mumbles as he presses soft kisses to your neck.

“Then fuck me already, Marston” You roll your eyes with a smile. John was always so incredibly charming without even trying to be.

He grins and trails his hand down your bare chest. His fingers run up your breast before rolling your nipple between his thumb and index finger. He leans closer and moves his kisses down your chest as well. He takes your other nipple in his mouth and gently bites down. You whine, his mouth was so warm.

“John please… you’re being too slow.” You grumble. He pulls his lips away with a pop and grins. “Alright alright… relax, woman.”

He lines himself up with your hole, rubbing his cock head up and down slowly. With a deep breath John slowly pushes himself inside of you. John watches your face with a teasing smirk as you focus on adjusting to his size. “Aren’t you cute.”

You groan in embarrassment, he was incredibly annoying during sex too. Charming, but annoying.

He suddenly begins to rock his hips back and forth despite not bottoming out like he usually does. You glance up at his face and see how red his cheeks have become. He moves his hands to your waist and presses his fingers into the fat of your stomach. He lets out a low groan, nearly sounding like a growl as he picks up the pace.

You whimper softly and dig your nails into the blankets below the two of you. “J-Jesus John…” You squirm which makes him whimper.

You feel your belly flutter at the noise. He really was desperate, his eyes watering. “F-Fuck… you’re fucking clinging to me.” He picks up the pace a little. Soft breathy whines escape his lips as he tightens his hold on your waist. His face is dusted a cute shade of pink.

John mumbles something under his breath before fully bottoming out. He lets out a loud moan, loud enough for camp to hear but he doesn’t care. He needs you. You move your hands from the sheets to his back, digging your nails into his skin. “F-Fuck… fuck!” You moan loudly. Your legs move on their own, wrapping themselves around his waist tightly, your heels digging into his lower back, pulling him closer.

He whimpers and whines, pounding into you. “Damn it, darling… fucking feel s’good.” He mutters before crashing his lips to yours. He’s rutting into you desperately, the closer he gets the louder he becomes. “N-Needed this… needed you. So beautiful… fuck!” He whimpers pathetically, like a desperate animal.

John moves his head down and buries it in the crook of your neck. “I’m gonna cum soon… gonna…” He mutters into your skin. You feel the knot in your stomach tighten. “M-Me too… I’m close, John.”

He gently bites down on your shoulder and snaps his hips forward harder than before. “Please let me… inside… you feel so good.” Without hesitation you nod and almost instantly you feel hot ropes of his cum fill you up. He lets out a guttural cry and digs his fingers into your skin with bruising force.

After a few seconds your hand finds his wrist. You guide his hand towards your clit wordlessly. He begins to rub tight circles, panting heavily. “Y-You’re so good… so good to me… thank you.”

WAAAGGHHHHH I FINALLY WROTE SMTHN KINDA BIG!!! YIPPEEE!!!!

[hotluncheddie]

ex jock

this is fat steve, subby eddie, filth.. for the festive season! happy halloween freaks!

wc: 2,034 | rated: E | cw: no kink negation | tags: chubby dom top steve, sub bottom eddie, established relationship, mention of; free use, degradation, breeding, outgrown clothes.. and steve has a big dick

AO3

🕸 ⋆｡°✩🕸⋆｡°✩🕸

eddie is brushing his teeth post shower in steve’s stupid big bathroom. the autumn rain falling agains the widow pane. 

‘i decided on my costume for robins party tomorrow ed’s’ eddie hears steve say from the corridor. 

eddie spits a wipes his mouth. hears steve come in and feels him stand close behind eddie, hands resting on his hips. 

eddie raises from where he’s dipped over the sink. breath catching in his throat and blood rushing straight to his cock. 

steve’s in his old hawkins high basketball jersey and a pair of running shorts. both are old and both are way too fucking small. 

steve smirks at him in the mirror, hands shifting lower, with just enough force to disturb the towel around eddie’s waist. it drops to the floor and eddie feels the hairy lower expanse of steve’s belly push up agains his backside. 

‘what do you think? ex jock, former basketball team captain.’ steve grinds agains eddie’s cheeks and all eddie can do is whine at the feeling of steve’s big hard dick, trapped and suffocated in his too small shorts. 

steve leans in close and kisses up eddie’s neck. snakes a hand around to eddie’s cock and squeezes. eddie’s leans on his arms and grips at the sink, legs feeling like jelly. 

steve swipes his thumb over his already leaking head, scooping up a little pre cum. eddie didn’t realise his eyes had shut till steve pulls at one of his hips, turning eddie around to face him. 

looking down his nose with a smile that’s all cocky and condescending, steve lifts his thumb slowly to eddie’s mouth. eddie opens, greedily sucking it in, moaning at the feel and the taste. eyelashes fluttering. 

‘pretty.’ steve humms. ‘you’d’ve let me do this after gym class right baby? in the showers? after i’d bodied you on the court?’ steve’s thumb slips from eddie’s mouth and he steps back towards the shower. turning to grab the lube they keep there, hidden amongst the shampoo. 

eddie takes the chance to watch steve’s ass and thighs jiggle in his too tight shorts, as he walks the few steps to the shower. takes in his bulging love handles that are pushing the waistband out and down. that gap of skin between the two garments gets a little bigger when steve reaches up to the top shelf to grab the lube. 

eddie feels his cock jump and leak once steve turns around. his belly had taken the brunt of his weight gain and he’s only gotten hairier in the years since high school. eddie grips the sink for dear life and he watches steve sway back towards him. shirt so tight eddie can see the soft nipples of his expanded pecks. steve’s belly pushes out in front of him, a soft indent along the bottom hem where the shirt sits, pulled tight around steve’s girth. belly exposed all the way up to his belly button. the jersey is so small. steve looks so hot. eddie is so fucking hard. 

steve stalks up close, stomach pushing soft agains eddies flat torso. eddie blinks slowly, taking a moment to breath deeply and feel the sensation of steve’s soft body agains his own. eventually his eyes focus and he stares at steve’s mouth. his head too fuzzy to ask for a kiss but steve must read his expression because his mouth quirks into a smug little smirk. lifting a huge hand up to the back of eddie’s head. steve pulls their mouths together into a sloppy kiss. just how eddie likes it. 

he looses himself in the feeling of steve’s tongue exploring his mouth, spit sliding down his chin. steve’s hand grips his hair and eddie moans. eyes rolling in the back of his head and mouth dropping open as steve sucks in his lower lip. 

steve pulls their faces apart an inch and eddie can’t focus on anything other than the kissed pink colour of steve’s mouth, glossy with spit. he vaguely hears the pump of the lube bottle but his eyes don’t snap up to steves till he feels strong slick fingers probing against his cheeks, towards his hole. 

eddie gasps at the sensation of steve’s strong thick arm encircling him to reach his entrance. the hand in his hair still holding tight, keeping his head in place. eddie sighs when he feels two slick fingers slide in with ease. 

(he’d fingered himself open during his shower, hoping something would happen tonight, never expecting all this. but hoping none the less.) 

‘baaaby’ steve coos. hand tightening in his hair and third finger prodding at his rim. ‘did you let someone have a go before me? little perv couldn’t wait till the captain was done?’ and eddie moans at the thought, feels filthy and alive. years out of high school (thank god) but lost in the fantasy. 

his cock ruts vaguely against steve’s underbelly. but between the sink and steve’s arm around him, there’s not much room. 

‘you gonna let me have a turn now baby?’ steve asks all honey sweet as his three fingers slide neat and quick in and out of him. all eddie can do is pant and nod, vaguely. 

‘need you to use your words for me.’ steve pecks at eddie lips and tugs sharply at eddie’s scalp to get his attention. 

‘pl- please.’ eddie rasps. drinking in steve’s round flushed cheeks, the love that he sees in his eyes. 

‘good boy.’ steve pulls his fingers out from eddie’s hair and hole in one swift motion. eddie takes a bit to register the quick hard slap against his cheek and another to feel that steve’s gripped his leaking red cock around the base. knowing way before eddie how that move would’ve sent him over the edge in seconds. 

still reeling, from the combined pain/pleasure, eddie let’s steve manoeuvre him back facing the sink and mirror. bending him at the waist so his elbows are against the counter, back arched. 

steve steps back in close to eddie. having shucked his too small shorts. eddie feels him line his slick cock up against his hole. teasing. 

‘eyes on me pretty thing.’ eddie lifts his head from where it was hanging between his shoulders. lost in the sensation of steve’s big thighs up agains the back of his. he focuses on the steve in the mirror. 

‘now then, you’re gonna let me have a special turn with you, aren’t you baby? you don’t want me feeling left out after all those guys on the team had a go before me, do you?’ and eddie whines, shaking his head quickly, feverishly. he’d never want steve to feel second than. he’s everything. 

‘good boy, so good for me baby.’ steve smiles at him in the mirror, ruts his cock between his cheeks. eddie keens. 

‘now.’ steve’s cock slips in just to the base of the round tip. teasing and slick. eddie’s mouth fills with spit as he listens. ‘you’re gonna let me fuck you nice and deep aren’t you baby?’ and eddie nodding again, trying to push back onto more of steve’s cock but the strong hands at his hip stop him. ‘and i get to do what all those other guys only dream of, isn’t that right freak?’ and eddie can only whine in confusion. caught between trying to focus on keeping his eyes on steve and the sensation of his cock sliding in another inch, stretching him open. 

‘you’re going to let me fuck you raw and deep aren’t you?’ and steve grinds in further, cock filling and stretching eddie’s hole. ‘you're going to let me breed you aren’t you, slut?’ steve grits, bottoming out and already pulling back out to start a punishing pace. 

eddie moans long and loud. too lost in the way those words light him on fire and the way steve’s cock fills him up perfectly to keep his eyes on the mirror. he squeezes his eyes closed and splays his hands agains the counter, holding on for dear life. 

steve shifts his grip, still thrusting hard and deep. one hand curls around eddie hipbone. pulling him back onto his cock and squeezing so hard eddie fucking prays he gets bruises tomorrow. the other hand slides up his spine, pushing lightly to get eddie to dip lower. 

looking up again at the mirror eddie watches steve. feeling his jaw go slack and he wouldn’t be surprised if some drool slips out and splatters onto the sinks expensive porcelain. 

because from this angle eddie can see steve’s flushed cheeks and knitted brow as he fucks in and out of eddie. his pecks and biceps bulging and flexing as he holds eddie where he wants him. eddie’s mesmerised by the movement and jiggle of steve’s belly as it bounces against eddies lower back. it’s still confined by the too tight jersey but the tops ridden up further over the course of the scene. allowing eddie to drink in more of its hairy, round expanse. 

eddie moans again, whimpering at the sight. ‘ste- stevie. i, i can’t. i’m gonna.’ eddie sounds like he’s about to cry. feels like he’s about to cry. 

steve moans, squeezing eddie hip harder. pants out ‘fuck, fuck. yeah baby, it’s okay. together, together okay?’ and he reaches his other hand down and around to grip eddie’s hard cock. 

the air punches out of eddie lungs, finally getting some attention to his dripping dick. he watches steve a moment longer. the way his belly and pecs move. the way his brow is furrowed and mouth is open and panting. he sees the way he’s leaning to one side in order to reach around and stroke eddie the way he likes. how reaching has caused his side to scrunch, one roll turning into two. 

‘fuck, fuck, i’m.’ steve manages as he bottoms out, so deep eddie feels it in his teeth. imagines the way steve’s balls tense up when he cums. feels steve’s hot load release inside him, filling him up. claiming him. 

eddie’s eyes roll back in his head. he cums so hard he blacks out. 

when he comes too it’s with his face smushed into the crook of steve’s shoulder. he nuzzled into the warm skin and feels steve squeeze where his arms are wrapped around his waist. eddie feels cum leaking out of him and dripping down his thigh. his cock gives a valiant twitch but he’s so exhausted it doesn’t go any further than that. 

steve gently lifts his face out and kissed him on the nose, his cheeks, his forehead and eddie just closes his eyes and smiles all dopey. 

once he feels that eddie won’t keel over if he’s no longer plastered to his front, steve steps back and rips the shirt off over his head, tossing it into the ground. ‘god that shit was uncomfortable. too fucking tight.’ but he’s smiling and eddie steps back into his space, caressing steve belly and soothing the red line where the shirt dug into him at the widest part. 

‘s’that really gonna be your costume?’ eddie asks, speech still slow and syrupy like his mind. voice a little raspy, he must’ve gotten pretty loud there at the end. 

steve grips one of his wandering hands and kisses eddie’s palm. he turns to put the shower back on and once he’s facing eddie again he cups eddie’s cheek with his palm. manoeuvring him so they’re eyes meet. steve kisses his nose again. ‘no silly. that was all just for you.’ 

eddie looks at steve’s lips as he talks. then back into his eyes once he hears what steve said. grinning he feels a blush colour his cheeks. a giddy giggle bubbles out of him as he slumps back into steve’s embrace. 

‘good.’ eddie murmurs, kissing steve’s neck. ‘don’t wanna share.’ 

steve laughs and squeezes eddie tighter, walking them both over into the warm spray of water with big lumbering steps. 

eddie sighs into the warmth, sinking into steve’s soft hold. letting steve clean him up and wrangle him into bed. falls asleep wrapped up in steve’s strong arms, his belly pushed up agains eddie back. 

halloween. best fucking time of the year. 

[chishiyaisasnack]

Meat stick

For Karina and Roro. You’re welcome. To the rest of you - I’M SORRY.

Disclaimer! This is just stupid as hell. Smut smut smut and stupid words. I cried laughing writing it. Do not take this seriously.

He had missed your peach pussy - juicy and delicious and no matter how much he devoured it he couldn’t get enough. The sweet smell made his baby holders tingle with excitement. You were so pretty laying in front of him, legs spread wide to show your sparkling lady curtains, draped so beautifully around the peephole that was leading into the wonders of your warm cave. Your milk bags were on full display, making his mouth water at the though of putting the pretty pink knobs in his mouth.

”Come on baby, what are you waiting for?” you asked impatiently, wiggeling your legs to shake that center attraction between them.

He instantly sprung into action, bracing his upper body over yours and closed his mouth around a pink, perky bud and you groaned at the feeling, your hands tangled in his pretty, blonde locks.

His meat stick throbbed as he no longer could hold himself back from running it along your meat slices, so wet and wonderful around him that he was about to burst already. But no, he had to wait. He had to taste that pretty pink peach before ruining it with his thick girth.

To your dismain he left your nipples alone and made his way downward, not stopping until he reached the peak, the fun button that made you squeal with pleasure. He ran his tounge between your folds, sucked on your clit and probed it into your hole. You were so wet and juicy that it was running down his chin - and he wouldn’t want it any other way. He slurped up everything you gave him, and by the sounds of it you were going to give him even more.

”YES, please don’t stop!” You were yelling loud enough for the neighbours to hear, and he still wanted to make you louder. ”I’m going to come, make me come, please”

Of course he couldn’t resist your begging so he sped up even more, like a propeller rushing through water. Your hands were in his hair again, pulling and pushing until his scalp went numb.

When you came it was with a loud moan and pleasure liquids flying out of you. It ran over his face like a faucet and he tasted the sweet aroma on his tounge. He couldn’t wait any longer, his manhood was throbbing so hard that it was painful. So he ascended, wiped his face on his arm and licked his lips carnivorously before giving you a wicked grin.

”What do you want Y/N?” he said in a mocking tone. He knew exactly what you wanted, after all your eyes were fixated on it and mouth hanging open as an invitation.

”Not today baby. I’m gonna use your cute hole as my personal toy”

You groaned at his words, disappointed that you wouldn’t get to taste his sperm stick, but delighted that you would get to feel it inside you.

”I’m diving in” Chishiya exlaimed and with one swift thrust he slid into your deep, moist cave of wonders, immediately hitting that spongy spot - making you come instantly. He laughed at your ecstacy, thoroughly enjoying how your eyes rolled back and your legs clamping around him, pulling him in as far as you could while your pussy spasmed around his girthy length.

”Fuck baby, already huh? Does my rod feel that good?” Chishiya didn’t wait for an answer and started thrusting in and out of you with movements so powerful that the bed moved with him. You held on as much as you could, feeling your third orgasm arriving fast.

”Coming again already huh?” he panted as he slammed his hips into yours, his baby holders slapping against that slick ass, fueling on his desire. Your fat sacks were moving with his thrusts, so wildly that they were slapping you in the face every time he bottomed out.

”Mmmm I’m gonna fill you up too. Do you want that? Do you want my seed in your belly?”

You screamed yes, over and over again. Chishiya obliged. With a guttural grunt he pushed his log so far in that it hit your cervix and shot out his white baby fluid. You couldn’t hold on either, the feeling of being filled by him made you come so hard that you sprayed like a fountain, painting his crotch with your release.

”You are going to make this bed into a water bed if you keep going like this.” he teased you between breaths.

”Let’s see how much love juice you got inside you.”

[turboheller]

All You Had To Say

dean/cas, 2354 words, rating: T, s5 era, first kiss.

.

Dean pulled his Baby over—onto what was one of those areas where the roadside had simply worn down from drivers deciding to pull in there, just as he had, rather than it being a true, intended rest stop—and cut the engine on a deep breath's noisy exhale.

It was the delicious ember smell of late September streaming in through the Impala's open windows, then spotting that big ol'tree, which had decided for him that it had to be this spot. 

Baby, she now sighed and made her sexy little arhythmic noises as she cooled and wound down, click-clacking away almost as if she were trying to match the nearly dusk's ever-present cricket chorus. Dean found himself rubbing both hands up and down denim thighs and felt like one of the noisy critters himself. His stupid thoughts were just so loud this evening.

He barked out a laugh into the quiet of his parked car at the workings of his weird-ass brain, then brutally chewed some more on his already reddened bottom lip. 

Get a fuckin' grip, man.

He let a few moments pass, then a slight dizziness reminded Dean that he was a dumbass and that humans were supposed to breathe, actually.

After yanking the keys from the ignition, Baby's driver door creaked that homely creak when Dean hauled ass out of his car then squared his shoulders and set his jaw.

He began to walk.

You couldn't even really call the twigs and chicken wire that separated the road from the field a fence, it barely came up to Dean's knees. He stepped over it with ease and now trod his size eleven Loggers through the dust-dirt and crepe grasses, setting a leisurely pace.

That familiar smouldering smell on the still fairly balmy breeze was much stronger now and Dean pulled long satisfying drags of it through flared nostrils, wishing he could keep it prisoner in his lungs. Wishing he could bottle it, shit. He couldn't get enough of that burning ember scent, truth be told. 

That's part of the damn problem right there.

Mumbling, "Shut up, man," outloud to his stupid inner monologue, Dean now picked up the pace a little and tramped towards the impressively big Oak he'd spotted from the road. It reminded him of the one in The Shawshank Redemption and, well. Dean was never one to shy away from a good movie reference, so. 

When he reached it, he leaned into its body and let his feet give way, backside sliding down the huge gnarly trunk until he was sat, slumped, beneath the tree's sparse autumnal canopy.

He was facing west.

Dean knew that because of what was left of the fall's evening sun and how it shone bright in his eyes, painting the arms of his jacket in pinks and lilacs and oranges. He brought tired knees to his chest and draped his colourful arms over them, hooking hand around wrist. He looked up at the sky through slightly hooded eyes and more specifically at the wondrous mix of big, fat clouds and the more slender ones that curled around the horizon's edges.

The scene was like... like some enormous portion of pudding. Yeah, that pudding Missouri had made for him and Sammy that one time; it'd had some weird fruit in it with black seeds, yet Dean hadn't even minded because it'd tasted so frickin divine.

Passion fruit Ambrosia.

Yeah, this was an Ambrosia sky, if Dean had ever seen one. The tiny little birds flapping away in the distance were those little black seeds and the giant fluffy clouds were the whipped white creamy goodness.

Dean chuckled at himself, knowing he was procrastinating. Took a breath. 

More thoughtfully, he now carefully fingered the hilt of the blade in his jacket's right pocket.

Dad's jacket.

Funny thing, but Dean vowed to himself there and then that he'd take off the leather when he got back to the motel, and he'd hang it on the hook on the back of the door—and he'd leave it on the hook on the back of the door in that shabby motel room near Glenvil, Nebraska, when they left. And he'd never, ever go back there again.

Dean didn't need nothin' from John no more.

Resigned to that now-fact, he cleared his throat, took in more lungfuls of awesome autumn woodsmoke-air, and told himself to just. Get the hell on with this.

Standing again, he unecessarily cleared his throat some more, just for good measure, and rubbed an unconcious hand along the back of his neck. He then said, "Hey, Cas? You around, buddy? Kinda need you to lend me your ears, if you're free…"

Nothing became angel in a heartbeat, in a rush of unseeable feathers and lightning-charged ozone—that same charred smell that already lingered in the air, only much, much stronger.

"Hello, Dean."

Dean sucked in a breath through his teeth. "Hey, man. Uh, thanks for the flyby," he smirked on autopilot, fingers trembling traitorously in their betrayal.

(continue below the cut or READ THE REST ON AO3)

"I've told you a number of times, Dean, I'll always come when you call." Such a fucking Holy Tax Accountant. "Although, I am somewhat confused by your request; I'm honestly quite unsure of how I would go about lending you this vessel's body parts."

Cas was. Outrageously fucking earnest as ever.

"Whaddya—oh, right, the ear thing, yeah. Uh, nah, man, that's just a turn of phrase." Dean cleared his throat again, even though there was nothing left to clear. "Listen, Cas. I, uh. I got somethin' to say."

"Well, I'd be a little put out if you didn't."

Snarky bastard. 

"Yeah, well, you might be a little put out regardless," Dean muttered it under his breath, momentarily forgetting Cas could still hear him with his magic angel-ears.

"How so, Dean?" Cas was now doing the head tilt thing and it was just. That was too fucking much. Dean felt like his melon was going pop and his chest was going to burst open like that scene from Alien if he didn't get this out.

"Thing is, Cas…" Dean now took the switchblade out from his pocket and when Cas' expression changed to that of his signature adorable-and-confused look, it was the last straw for Dean.

"Yep, okay, so there is obviously absolutely no frickin' way I can do this while looking at you, dude. Don't know why I ever thought I could. So, I'm uh, I'm just gonna. I'm gonna close my eyes, and pretend I'm on the phone to you. Okay, buddy?" and Dean screwed his eyes shut and brought his left hand, now curved into the shape of an old-school telephone receiver, up to his left ear. He felt like a first class schmuck but what else was he gonna do? 

The actual ever-loving fuck are you doing?

Dean ignored his idiot brain. He cracked one eye open only to see Cas had done the same as him, with the hand-phone thing. The angel's more-than-perplexed eyes were both open though, wide as monster truck wheel trims.

Dean scrunched his peeping eye shut again. He now absently spun the switchblade in his right hand, antsy, but luckily he remembered to breathe. He took a few big ones and tried again.

"So, it's just. Thing is, I—okay, here it is: I can't fuckin' concentrate for shit with you around no more, man." It came out much harsher than he'd meant it to. “You're just. Too distracting." Dean shifted his weight from one foot to the other. He opened his eyes to barely slits.

Cas blinked. "And does Sam also feel this way?" he asked.

Dean cursed the fact he hadn't yet mastered the art of telepathy and shut his eyes again.

"No, man. It's just—that's just me. It's like. You're just so there when you're around, you know? And it's too much. For me. You understand?"

"I... do not," Cas said.

Dean took another breath—then it all came tumbling out like Jack and fucking Jill.

"Shit, man, it's like. You with all your shoving me into walls crap and your sexy gravel on sandpaper voice and your blue, blue eyes, you know? And hell, your gooddamn addictive thunder and lightening strike woodsmokey angel cologne which, fuck, I can't get enough of that shit?! And, you know, it's almost October so, like, everywhere smells like you! And it just. It just makes me crazy, okay? Like, I want... fuck. I-wanna-touch-you-and-for-you-to-touch-me-and-shit. But. But then, actually, it's kinda more than that, Cas, like. I like you. Like, like you like you. And I don't normally do that kinda thing. Did it once; not anymore. And... and... all of this is just really fucked up because you don't shit where you eat, know what I'm sayin'? And you and me we're, like, best friends, right? That's why I brought the blade, by the way, so you can carve your initials next to mine and Sam's on the inside of Baby, if you wanna. So you an'me, we can be brothers, too. Because. Because it'll be easier then. Because I know you don't feel the same. But, yeah. So. I just had to get this all out in the open, you feel me? So I could—so I can stop feeling all awkward and shit around you and just. Move the fuck on. And before you say anything, I know, alright? I totally get it and you don't have to explain. You're an angel of the Lord and you don't even know how to feel these things, and even if you did, you, like, obviously wouldn't feel 'em for a grunt like me and—"

The ozone smell surrounded Dean and the burning breeze whipped at his cheeks as chapped lips pressed, hard, onto his. Dean's eyes flew open to see Cas' face—all close up and out of focus—and his head felt at once like he'd been holding his breath for seven hundred thousand years.

Cas was kissing him.

Kissing. Kissing Cas.

The angel had Dean by the scruff of the neck, fists balled up and white-knuckled with handfuls of Dean's Henley and army surplus shirt and Cas, he was now opening his mouth, opening Dean's mouth with those chapped lips of his and fuck, his tongue, that was there, warm and wet and licking into Dean, licking Dean's own tongue and teeth and fuckfuckfuck.

Dean was being consumed by Cas.

Dean dropped the switchblade into the paper grasses and grabbed onto the meat of Cas's solid arms just as his own knees started to shake like the oak leaves above them in the breeze, shaking like they were going to give up on him.

Yeah, Cas was definitely kissing Dean alright. Kissing Dean like it was feeding him... So, Dean fed Cas. And it was all suddenly as easy as breathing and totally awesome and fucking sublime and the messiest yet best kiss in the history of kisses.

Dean was thinking of absolutely nothing at all and also of how he could happily do this for the rest of his days, when Cas pulled abruptly away from him. Dean, a damn near panting puppy dog, now had that fresh ozone smell—Castiel's scent—smeared all over him. He felt claimed. And he liked that.

A helluva fucking lot, turned out.

When he could focus his eyes back into reality again, Cas looked more than slightly irritated.

"Why did you not tell me sooner, Dean? We could have been doing this the whole time," was all he had to say.

Dean's brain shorted a circuit. Or all of them.

Cas... liked him back?

Dean threw his head backwards to scan the freshly twinkling stars in that divine Ambrosia sky and breathed in deep, gulping again and again for more of the vital oxygen his brain and body so badly needed to ground him in the here and now.

When he looked at Cas again and tried to speak, he only managed to gurgle out a his second strangled laugh of the day.

He wondered if he'd finally lost his damn mind.

And when Dean could finally think about forming a sentence, the words, "Cas, did God invent Ambrosia—or was that all mankind's good work?" were all he had to say.

After Cas informed Dean that he'd thought the reason he'd been summoned was because the hunter had wanted to stab him again like when they'd first met, the angel proudly carved his name into Baby's interior:

C A S

...the name Dean had christened him with.

Dean was very clear about how they were now something very other than brothers, though.

With a slight curve to those chapped pink lips, Cas climbed into the Impala, riding shotgun next to Dean, and Dean drove them back towards his and Sam's skeevy motel under that barely there fruit-whip sky that was now silently fading into a deep purply-black azure.

Dean turned on the radio and smiled when Cas smiled at Stevie Nicks's voice singing about thunder only happening when it's raining.

Heh.

(They both knew that wasn't strictly true).

Neither had too much to say to one another on the drive, neither—they both knew talking could come later. Dean had said so much before Cas had kissed him, and he was now far too busy experiencing Nirvana for such complicated things as words. And Cas? Cas was always happy with silence. And this one was so damn comfortable.

Dean tried his best to concentrate on the road but he couldn't stop looking across at Cas.

The Holy Tax Accountant looked happy, Dean thought, properly happy—for the very first time since they'd met in that warded old barn a couple years back.

It felt really, really good. 

Dean realised: everything was actually exactly the same as it was before, it was just. More.

Better.

Yeah, better because he too now smelled just like Cas—like woodsmoke and Mother Nature and Handsome Rebel Angel—and better because of the way Cas's gorgeously long fingers seemed to fit so perfectly between his own.

Dean nodded his head and smiled some more.

"This," was all he had to say.

.

[sinfulnesxx]

OPEN TO: YOUNGER BOTTOMS.

NON-CON, HUMILIATION AND SLURS, DEGRADATION, FEMINIZATION, etc.

Scenario: Based on this GIF.

DO NOT LIKE MY STARTER IF YOU DO NOT PLAN TO REPLY.

This was stupid, but not too far removed from all the publicity he produced for Vought back in the day. Besides, at these conventions there used to be a lot of very pretty little bitches, dressing up like real sluts, and that was partly a real turn-on. So there he was. The great Soldier Boy, in front of that table, signing pictures of himself and taking selfies with them, but no one really stood out. Until a boy approached and really caught his attention. Plump pink lips, a sweet innocent face, a big fat nice ass, Ben listened to him talk about how much he admired and loved him, but the most relevant information was to hear that this pretty little boy was 18 years old.

So he gave him a picture with his autograph and behind this picture, his room number of the hotel where he was staying, whispering to him to wait for him there, and they could continue getting to know each other. When the whole event was over, Soldier Boy arrived at his room and saw his biggest fan standing in front of the door, waiting. Ben invited him in, once inside, he locked the door and the rest was history. Ben was completely naked, he had the boy pinned against the bed, he hadn’t even bothered to take off the clothes of the boy, he had just ripped his jeans and thrown him against the bed against his will, penetrating him dry and in one thrust, forcing his cock until it was balls deep.

“C'mon. This is what you wanted, right? You said you love me, that I’m your fucking idol, and you would do whatever for me. You were practically eye fucking me at the convention” He commented as he looked at the camera in front of them. There was something exciting about doing that in front of the camera, after all, the video would be for his eyes only. Ben was getting more and more turned on watching the helpless small boy clench his fists and struggle, as if he had any chance at all of escaping.

And even though Ben was enjoying listening to his pleas and squeals of pain, he covered his mouth with one hand so that no one would hear his cries of pain and cries for help while he squeezed his neck with the other. “SHUT UP, YOU FUCKING FAGGOT! No one is coming to help you! So stop crying and take it!!!” Ben growled, smiling between his moans as he raped the boy. That hole was so fucking tight, squeezing his big fat cock so freaking good.

Ben wouldn’t let this boy go until he emptied his balls about two or three times, hell, maybe he’d use him all night. His hips moved in powerful, hard thrusts that showed no mercy whatsoever, forcing his way between those tight walls, seeking to drive his massive cock, as thick as a beer can, deeper and deeper as pleasure-filled moans came from Soldier Boy’s mouth.

[dracoqueen22]

BlorboWriMo 2024 - Day 19 thru 22

He lets the matter drop. Perhaps once they arrive in Shandara, he can find out more, but for now, it’s clearly a delicate subject. 

The day wears long, but they reach another waycamp just after sunset. There is no convenient pond nearby for Dart to swim and catch a few fish, but Cecil makes a trap of wood and rope that snares a fat rabbit. He doesn’t know what to do with it after he catches it, but the small grin of pride in himself makes Dart’s heart do double-time, the stupid thing. 

Dart may not be able to hunt Dryland beasts with any success, but he knows how to dress and cook them. Clare is an excellent teacher. Not like roasting rabbit is hard, but it throws Cecil for a loop, and now it’s Dart’s turn to show him how it’s done. 

It’s a good meal for the two of them, sharing a log, sat hip to hip and thigh to thigh. None of those distracting potatoes or vegetables. Just roasted meat. Even Dart has to admit that the crunchy skin and greasy meat tastes better charred over a fire than raw. It burns his tongue and drops over his fingers, but messy eating is a small price to pay for deliciousness. 

Cecil’s much cleaner about it, little nibbles and kitten licks, and a small handkerchief he uses to wipe away drips. There’s not so much as a dribble on his chin. 

“Were you never taught manners?” he asks, but at least there’s more curiosity than disgust in the question. 

“Not the Drylander kind.” Dart pops his thumb in his mouth to suck it clean. “The Ori didn’t have much use for ‘em either.” 

“Hmm.” It’s not disgust that has Cecil watching Dart lick his fingers. 

Dart pretends not to notice. He curls his tongue around his knuckles and licks a drip from his wrist. He sucks on his fingertips as Cecil’s stare turns searing. 

This time, Dart tosses the bones into the fire rather than gnaw on them. Cecil would probably find that disgusting and Dart’s trying not to appall Cecil right now. He’s playing nice. 

“Do you want to learn?” Cecil asks. He throws bits into the fire, some of them a waste, but Dart bites his tongue. 

Playing nice sucks. 

“Not really.” Dart shrugs and sucks the last bit of rabbit from his forefinger talon. “What use are they?” 

Cecil’s openly staring now, and Dart smothers his grin. He may be plain average Undersea, but on Dryland, he’s cream of the crop. “Formal dinners, for one,” Cecil says after a moment. 

“Psss. I’ll never be invited to one of those.” Dart waves off the very idea of it. Manners in Undersea are more like, always greeting the Puffer or never turning your back on a crab. “I don’t see any reason to…” 

He trails off as Cecil leans in and gently cups his face, turning him toward Dart. He’s intent, focused, as his thumb rubs at the corner of Dart’s mouth, probably catching a smear of grease. 

“Missed a bit,” he says. 

“Ooops.” Dart flicks his tongue out, tastes the salt on the tip of his tongue. “Guess I’m just a mess.” 

He leans in, and delight rolls through him as Cecil meets him halfway. The kiss is light. Delicate. Like Cecil is unsure of his welcome and wants to test the waters. Well, that’s a little too sweet for Dart. 

He grabs the top of Cecil’s armor and turns the kiss filthy, tongue pushing deep, sweeping the taste of rabbit from Cecil’s mouth. He sucks on Cecil’s tongue in a mimicry of a cock, and drags the tip of his fangs over Cecil’s bottom lip. A sharp inhalation is his reward. 

“You’re wearing too much,” Dart says against Cecil’s mouth. He gives a pointed tug to the armor. 

“We are still in the wilds,” Cecil reminds him, but his hand cups the back of Dart’s neck, holding him close for the kiss. “Tell me what you want.” 

Oh, so many things, most of which he can’t have. 

Dart hums and slithers his way into Cecil’s lap, thighs stretched wide by both Cecil’s hips and the thickness of his armor. “I’d love for you to fuck me,” he says, just to watch the pink spread over the bridge of Cecil’s nose. He’s so cute when he’s flustered. “But since we’re ‘in the wilds’ I’ll settle for a handjob.” 

Cecil’s hands settle on his waist, and not for the first time, does Dart appreciate how large they are. Dart’s not a small person. Or at least, he didn't think he was. Lucas and Lysia made him question it, and now Cecil makes him feel tiny, too. Half of it’s the armor, Dart’s pretty sure. 

“You and Cecil are built for two very different purposes,” Sirene says. 

“Shhh. Quiet time now, Cecil’s gonna touch my dick,” Dart replies. 

Sirene makes a disgusted noise and evacuates, which means she’s going to go cuddle Vesper and bask in her wife’s presence, so she can’t be too upset about it. 

“You’ll, err, have to show me what to do,” Cecil says, getting pinker and pinker, but there’s no mistaking his dilating pupils or his quickened breath. 

Dart beams and starts to unlace his trousers. He’s not quite aroused enough for his hemipenes to emerge, but it won’t take long for him to get there. “It’s not that complicated.” He yanks open his pants, revealing his sheath, already starting to swell at just the idea of a little fun. “See?” 

Cecil gnaws on his bottom lip. “Um.” 

“They’re not always out,” Dart says with a laugh. Lysia had the same confused reaction. He grabs Cecil’s hand and pushes his palm against the sheath. “You gotta give ‘em reason to come out.” 

“I won’t hurt you?”

“Not with those nubby things.” Dart waves his other hand, indicating the claws on the tips of his fingers. He tightens his thighs around Cecil’s waist and leans back a little. “Come on. Show me some sword-handling tips.” He waggles his eyebrows. 

“Oh, gods. You’re ridiculous,” Cecil grumps, but he traces his fingertips around the rim of Dart’s sheath, and the gentle friction is a sweet sensation. 

Dart hums, his insides heating. “I’m fun,” he corrects. “Keep going.” 

Cecil takes in a deep breath, and the concentration on his face should not be as adorable as it is. But he’s focused, intent, as he eases one finger inside, and it brushes over Dart’s hemipenes. He shudders, hips pushing toward Cecil’s hand encouragingly. 

“More,” Dart demands. He grabs Cecil’s hand by the wrist and urges his finger deeper, heat knotting deep in his groin with every touch. “Don’t be gentle.” 

“You’re so impatient,” Cecil huffs but he obeys, withdrawing one finger and returning with three. He pushes in, curls, and his fingertips brush over the nerve cluster right along the inside. 

Dart’s spine curls, his whole body throbbing. He moans and keeps his grip on Cecil’s wrist, refusing to let him withdraw. “Yeah, just like that.” He ruts forward in little rocks of his hips as heat pulses into his groin. His hemipenes twitch. 

Encouragement works. Cecil’s bolder now, pushing deeper, his thumb stroking around the outside of Dart’s swelling sheath while his fingers lay rhythmic pressure on his nerves. Dart’s thighs shake. He gnaws on his bottom lip as his pulse starts to race, his hemipenes throbbing, slick and full. 

Dart groans and presses the heel of his free hand above his sheath, pushing down. Pleasure pulses through his groin as his hemipenes emerge, right into Cecil’s hand. They’re slick and hot as he curls curious fingers around them, first one and then the other, the tentative touches more of a tease, but a damn good one. 

Dart leans back up, hooking one arm around Cecil’s neck for more leverage so he can roll up into Cecil’s hand. No, hands. He’s got both of them involved, one around each pene, stroking Dart in slow, careful pulls. Barely any pressure, but his thumbs teasing at the tips at the end of an upstroke. 

“Is this… good?” Cecil asks. 

“Yeah,” Dart pants. He digs the heel of his palm into his abdomen again, more slick oozing out to soak his groin. “You can grip tighter.” He hooks two fingers into his sheath, playing with the sensitive nub right on the inside, right as Cecil gives him a squeezing stroke from root to tip. 

Dart shudders, his toes curling. “Fuck, just like that,” he murmurs, looking down. It’s a gorgeous sight, Cecil’s strong hands wrapped around his hemipenes, all of it glistening with his slick. He throbs in Cecil’s grip and another tight stroke turns him inside out. 

“Your hands are perfect,” he breathes, fingers digging into Cecil’s shoulder. 

“Thanks…?” Cecil strokes him again, then again, and Dart bucks, hips rising into each long, squeezing pull. “Should I do something different?” 

Dart groans. “No, this is perf– wait. Actually.” He pulls his fingers free of his sheath and hooks them in Cecil’s belt. “Get your dick out. I want to play with it, too.” 

It’s a testament to Dart’s will and his lack of selfishness that he’s gracious enough to let Cecil let go of his hemipenes so he can pull out his own dick. There’s more buckles and buttons and ties to get through though, so Dart keeps his hands busy. And his mouth. 

“Surprised it don’t bother you,” he says as he strokes himself.

“Why should it?” Cecil asks, hands fumbling as he struggles to get himself out, smearing Dart’s slick all over his buckles and such. The urgency is adorable. 

Dart shrugs. “Dunno. Had more than a few Drylanders take a look and decide it was too weird for them.” 

“Cowards,” Cecil mutters, like it’s an aside, but also completely genuine. “Was this before or after you sucked their dick?” 

“Or ate them out,” Dart corrects. He pauses, head tilted in thought. “Usually after. Huh. Never put that together before.” 

Cecil clicks his tongue. “Not only cowards, but also selfish.” He pauses mid-buckle. “You deserve better.” 

Heat steals into Dart’s cheeks that has nothing to do with arousal. It’s too hard to meet Cecil’s eyes so he looks away. “I’ll try and remember that.” He clears his throat noisily. “D’you need help with that or am I getting my hand on your dick sometime tonight?” 

“You could really use some manners,” Cecil huffs as he yanks his trousers open, shoves down his smallclothes, and his dick springs right into Dart’s waiting hand. Hot, hard, and already leaking at the tip, shiny with evidence of his want. 

Dart’s mouth waters, but he doesn’t let himself get distracted. “Finally,” he says, and scoots closer, just a few precious inches, enough to slot Cecil’s cock right between his in a delicious glide of heat and slick. 

“Now it’s perfect,” Dart declares as he presses his dicks against Cecil’s and rocks up, thrusting against the firm heat. 

A low groan echoes in Cecil’s throat. “Here. Let me…” He trails off, batting Dart’s hands aside to replace them with his own, encircling all three dicks with those gorgeous hands. 

“You’re a genius.” Dart grabs onto Cecil’s shoulders and uses them for leverage to grind into Cecil’s grip. 

His hands, those big, perfect hands, are a sloppy, slick mess, and Dart loves it. He ruts harder as Cecil squeezes, Cecil’s dick a hot, hard line between his hemipenes. 

“Fuck, I love your hands,” Dart pants and leans in, licking sloppily at Cecil’s mouth until Cecil opens for a kiss, a messy tangle of their tongues. He moans against Dart’s mouth, eyes fluttering shut, his thighs tensing under Dart as well. 

Dart drags his mouth along the curve of Cecil’s jaw and then into the hollow of his throat. Cecil’s pulse is a frantic flutter against his lips. His skin tastes of salt, and when Dart digs in his teeth, Cecil’s whole body judders. A moan vibrates out of his mouth, his hands squeezing harder, pulling faster. 

So Dart does it again, grazing his eyeteeth in a light scratch over Cecil’s skin, pulling a raised line like a mark. He latches onto Cecil’s throat with his mouth, sucks hard, pulls up another mark that Cecil won’t be able to hide, and Cecil bucks up against him. He squeezes, pulls, and ecstasy tightens like a knot in Dart’s groin. 

“Again,” he pants into Cecil’s ear, squeezing their bodies together, Cecil’s hands trapped between them. “Do it again.” 

Cecil makes a noise, a pitched moan, but he obeys so beautifully that Dart’s spine curves, his toes curl, everything goes taut and wonderful until his hemipenes spasm, and he spills, pulsing hot and wet over Cecil’s hands, Cecil’s dick, his armor. He soaks the space between their bodies, teeth digging a bruise into the side of Cecil’s neck. 

“Oh, fuck,” Dart breathes. “You, too. Come on.” He nips his way back to Cecil’s lips, licking his way inside. 

He swallows up Cecil’s groan and turns the kiss filthy. He’s sensitive all over, tingling, but it’s the good kind of sensitive as Cecil keeps stroking, keeps grinding between Dart’s penes until he finally comes, cock spurting hot and wet in their combined mess. He grits a moan from behind clenched teeth, face flushed a pretty pink. 

Dart is determined to really get Cecil to make some noise some day. Everything about him is locked behind a cage of iron control, and Dart’s just itching to break through. 

For now, he licks back into Cecil’s mouth, softens up his jaw until Cecil has no choice but to breathe out his pleasure. He pants against Dart’s lips, hands slowing until he’s wrung every last pulse of pleasure. 

“That was great,” Dart says. Pleasure thrums through his whole body in a happy buzz. Good food, sweet handjob. He’s feeling a bit spoiled right now. 

“Mmm.” Cecil hums what must be agreement but then he looks down between them and sighs. “Except for the unfortunate mess.” 

“Pfft. That’s nothing.” Dart grabs Cecil’s wrists and lifts them up. “I’m used to it,” he says before he starts to clean Cecil’s hand with his tongue. The taste of their mingled spunk gives him a thrill – himself sea-salty and Cecil, that bitter-tart musk. 

“What’re you…” Cecil trails off, his eyes wide. “Why?” 

“Why not?” Dart finishes up one hand and then starts on the other, grinning as he sucks Cecil’s thumb into his mouth. “It’s quicker this way.” 

Cecil’s mouth works for several seconds before he says, “Manners. I really am going to have to teach you manners.” 

Dart puffs out his cheeks. “Are you telling me it’s rude to do this?” He draws Cecil’s middle finger into his mouth and curls his tongue around it. 

“It’s… unseemly,” Cecil says, but his tongue touches his bottom lip, and he’s not pulling his hand away. Sounds a bit like he’s parroting someone else. 

Dart laughs around Cecil’s finger. “Sounds like the Templar have a lot of rules.” 

“It’s not a rule. That’s ridiculous.” The tips of Cecil’s ears burn red. “It’s just… good manners,” he finishes. “Expectations of behavior.” 

Dart lets go with a pop and wrinkles his nose. “Are you allowed to do anything?” 

“You wouldn’t understand.” Cecil wraps his hands around Dart’s waist and lifts Dart from his lap with seemingly no trouble at all, putting him back on his feet. “Perhaps once we arrive, it’ll become clearer.” 

Dart ignores the little thrill – he really shouldn’t enjoy getting manhandled so much. “Are we close?” 

Cecil frowns at the state of his trousers and tucks himself away. “If all goes well, we should be in Shandara before bedtime.” 

That’s unnerving. Dart thought he’d have a little more time to get used to the idea of it, maybe try and learn more of Cecil’s weaknesses, or figure out some kind of alternative plan. 

“That’s… great,” Dart says. He can’t manage proper enthusiasm to support the statement, so he doesn’t bother. He turns and tucks himself away. “Let’s get that tent set up. It’s going to be another cold one.” 

Cecil wordlessly agrees. 

Dart’s too spooked to be much use, however. After the third time tangling up the mounts, Cecil shoos him off, so Dart plops onto the log and watches Cecil work instead. It’s not a bad view, the fire glittering off Cecil’s armor and horns. The way his breeches cling to his ass, the occasional twitch of his tail, and the way he mutters to himself as he works. 

He sighs. “Any advice for the soon to be imprisoned?” he asks Sirene. 

“Don’t speak unless spoken to,” she replies without missing a beat. 

Dart’s jaw drops. “Seriously?” 

“Yes,” Sirene says, and Dart has never heard her sound so serious. Sirene is less playful as a rule, but her tone leaves no room for interpretation. “Cecil is kind, but Commander Menelaus will not find you or your rudeness charming. You will have to be polite.” 

Dart wrinkles his nose. 

“And obedient,” Sirene adds, like a nail in his coffin. 

“Eugh.” Disgust fills Dart all the way to his core. He shudders. 

“You’re the one who wanted to play pretend,” Sirene says, and not for the first time, Dart feels as if he’s being lectured by one of his teachers when he was a wee pup. “This is how you do it.” 

Dart slumps further. Not even watching Cecil work is enough to brighten his mood. He’s still trying to put it into perspective, to think about all the intel he could bring back to the Ori, back to his father. 

And then he remembers Stormhold. 

Cecil is not lying. He may only be telling the truth as he knows it, but his grief and anger are very real. Justified even. The likelihood of Dart convincing Cecil to switch sides is slim to none. At least, not unless he can find out more about what happened. 

If the Templar are to blame, he might be able to sway Cecil. If it had been the Ori, well, Dart might have to do some thinking himself. 

He gets it. This is war. War has casualties. People die. Buildings get destroyed. Hatred grows and grows on both sides, and he’s sure the Ori felt like they might have had no other choice. Maybe that level of destruction is why they haven’t used that weapon again. 

The Templar have probably done equally heinous things. Other than the obvious, of course. The whole stealing their home out from under the Ori, destroying the land, usurping the Zivati, corrupting M’ori, et cetera. 

Ugh, this is complicated. Too complicated. 

Maybe he should have stayed Undersea after all. 

“Cecil would let you go,” Sirene says. Quiet. Tentative. “It would break my heart, but I’d sooner sever our bond then see you die for a cause you don’t believe in.” 

For the first time, with the prospect of Shandara less than a day away, it’s tempting. Dart could do it. He could run away, run home, find someone willing to mate him to appease his mother. Find some duty to contribute and become part of the community. Spit out half a dozen pups to really buy his way into Mama’s graces. 

It’s an option. 

He’d be miserable, yeah, but he’d be alive. The Drylanders could keep slaughtering themselves, and Dart could flit around the sea, in his domestic cage of responsibility and pups. He’d be alive. He wouldn’t be living, but he’d be alive. 

“Dart?” 

He looks up. Cecil’s giving him a confused look, standing at the doorway of the tent, one hand pulling the door back. 

One way or another, it requires Dart to be obedient, something he’s never managed in his entire life. 

Fuck it. 

Dart stands and brushes off the seat of his pants. “Sorry. My thoughts were a million miles away. Did you say something?” 

Cecil gives him a long look before he says, “We should go to sleep and get an early start.” 

Well, if there’s one thing Dart has never turned down, it’s more sleep, though he’s not keen on the early start part of it. Maybe he can convince Cecil to do otherwise. He hears blow jobs are a great convincer. 

“Sure,” Dart says. “Shandara awaits, right?” 

“Right.” Cecil squints at him again, but must decide it’s not worth the headache, because he lets it pass and vanishes into the tent. 

Dart exhales and looks up at the sky. Yeah, he’s going to do this. Worse comes to worst, he’s got an emergency escape plan, though it’s less than ideal. 

“It’ll be fine,” Sirene says, baseless as ever. 

Dart’s not up for the argument. Instead, he joins Cecil in the tent and goes to sleep. 

–end chapter five? six? I lost count–

They reach Shandara just before sunset, but they are a good quarter mile away when Dart first lays eyes on the city. A tall tower rises above everything in the exact center of the city, three colorful flags flapping wildly in the breeze like a statement of ownership. Control Central, Cecil calls it, his face turned grim and serious, more so than usual. 

It’s their final destination, but first, they must enter Shandara proper, which in itself is a feat. Massive stone walls completely encircle Shandara, and the ground has been cleared for at least fifty feet in front of the walls, with not so much as a blade of grass to serve as cover. The walls themselves must be frequently scrubbed clean because Dart doesn’t see a single vine or shroom or bit of moss. 

It’s a stark difference to what Dart has seen among the Ori. They live with nature, taking shelter in natural caves or building high in the treetops, or digging into the earth. They blend. Hide. Use the natural surroundings to their advantage.

The Templar have definitely taken the completely opposite approach. 

Control Central is the only structure visible above the walls, though Dart occasionally spies a few roofs or upright flagpoles. Smoke rises from chimneys, puffing gray into the fading sunlight. 

The road they’re on is wide enough for a whole army troop to march side by side. It leads directly to Shandara, or more accurately, directly to a massive gate. Two smaller towers bracket this gate, and when Cecil raises a hand, one of the guards in the tower to the left acknowledges him. 

“Raise the gate!” he shouts. There are two answering shouts before the sound of chains clanking echoes from within the tower. 

The gate slowly inches upward, making enough room below for Cecil to enter, before the gate reverses course. It lands with an unsettling clunk behind Dart. He twists to look over his shoulder, but he can’t see anything through the closely laid slats.  

“No quick escape now,” Sirene murmurs. 

“That’s for the reminder,” Dart mutters. He tightens his grip on Cecil, struck with an unease he’s never felt before. 

Snow’s talons click on a road that’s now paved stones fitted together, all painfully clean, like someone spends their day just sweeping them. The streets are narrower now, with stone buildings sharing walls and flagpoles on just about every one of them. A few advertise goods and services. Others have family names or something Cecil calls an address. 

Occasionally narrow alleys connect to other streets and more stone buildings. Some of the houses have planters in their paned windows, glass glittering in the tall everlights that illuminate the streets in the absence of sunlight. There are weird metal grates built into the ground at an angle, leading down to who knows what.

Dart leans over to peer into one as they pass, but all he can see is glistening dark. Cecil catches him before he tilts out of the saddle. 

“They’re for the sewers,” he explains as he pushes Dart back into place. 

Dart squints. “What’s a sewer?” 

“It’s part of the indoor plumbing system,” Cecil explains as Dart goes back to staring around him, slack-jawed. 

The city is strange, the streets are strange, and the people! Dart’s used to the small Ori encampments, or the small village where most of the Ori civilians live in relative peace, left alone by the Templar so long as they pay their dues and aren’t caught harboring “Ori terrorists”. 

Shandara is crowded. The streets would be wide if not for being crammed with temporary vendors, many of whom are in the process of closing up shop for the night. They talk to each other in a rapid clip, too quick for Dart to parse, though he catches a few lamentations about low sales and drowning worries in liquor.

 There actually are people pushing huge brooms across the cobblestones, occasionally pausing to pick up some large piece of trash and shove it in a bag hanging on their belt. Families hurry home, laden with packages or children, and nearly all of them stare with keen interest. 

Some call out to Cecil, clearly familiar with him or his borse or both. Either that or they’re trained to offer respect to any passing soldier, because some of their greetings are generic. “Thank you for your service,” or “Guard us well!” 

Several openly stare at Dart, probably because they’re not used to seeing a mer around here. Everyone knows there’s a large sea-mer population in the Kelp Forest, but Dart’s kind has been notoriously against joining the war on either side. Oh, occasionally a hot headed juvenile will venture to Dryland in search of adventure, but they usually come skulking back. 

Dart’s the only one who’s ever left the Undersea the way that he did – with Sirene on his back and a determination to fight. 

All roads apparently lead straight to the Control Central, because Cecil doesn’t have to make any turns or dodge any obstacles. Everyone moves out of Snow’s way as soon as they see him coming, like they’re afraid of him. It’s unsettling. 

Cecil doesn’t pull Snow to a stop until they’re in a large courtyard in front of Control Central, bracketed on either side by two wings of the tower, a couple floors shorter, but equally imposing. A dozen or so Templar infantry loiter in the courtyard, talking to each other in small clumps, though their conversation dies the moment Cecil comes into view. All of them stop and stare as Cecil dismounts and takes Snow’s reins, guiding her in the direction of a stable on the bottom floor of the left wing. 

Dart feels even more on display now that he’s the only one in the saddle. He starts grinning and waving, just to make a show of it, and the gossip gets louder. They stop openly staring at least. So much for Templar manners. 

A young blue Tsak emerges from the stables as they approach, large tusks jutting from her bottom jaw, but her face lights up. 

“Stormhold, sir,” she greets, already reaching for the reins. “You’re back. When the others returned without Snow, I worried, but I should’ve known better. She’s a tough one.” 

“Aye, she is,” Cecil shifts his touch to Snow’s mane. “She’s worked hard to carry two for the past few days. I think she’d appreciate a rubdown.” 

The Tsak beams. “Oh, absolutely.” 

“Thank you, Alpine.” Cecil circles to Snow’s side and looks up at Dart before offering a hand like he’s some fair maiden who can’t hop down from a noble steed. 

Fuck that. 

Dart arches an eyebrow and hops down on his own. The cobblestones are hard beneath his feet, jarring all the way up his legs, but he muffles the gasp with a big yawn and stretches his arms over his head.

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Day 19 - 22 Word Count: 4623 Running Word Count: 46,759