#broad collars

[nowoolallowed]

Necklace - Louvre Collection

Inventory Number: E 2152 New Kingdom (-1550 - -1069) Location Information: Location Unlisted

Description:

Ousekh necklace; modern assembly

[abirddogmoment]

It's been a minute since I posted any training videos but here's where we're at with steadiness training!

We're coming really close to meeting my goals for steadiness training! I'm now able to throw things while Rory stays in heel position without too much trouble. She's able to maintain this outdoors in most environments so I'm really really happy with where we're at!

I do a lot of practice heeling around distractions, but I just realized this was the first time I heeled towards the thing she wants and pulled a u-turn. As a result, she's a little slow on that turn and lacks the enthusiasm on the actual retrieve. Nbd, I'll practice it a little more with easier retrieves to build the enthusiasm in the next session.

I'm most proud of how she connected the cue "ready" with looking out towards the ite. (rather than looking up at me). I don't do directional casting (when you put your arm out to direct the dog) on simple retrieves so it's just the cue plus that little hand next to her head. It makes me happy every time she locks up in the correct direction and gets ready.

I'm also super happy with her understanding of the release! I can pet her or touch her and she won't break the stay until I release her with the "okay!" or "get it" cues. I don't think I pet her in this video but I've been practicing that too so I'm thrilled it's sticking!

It's hard to believe she's only a year old when we're doing training sessions like these! I'm so excited to see how she grows up, she's gonna be so cool 🥺💜

[onifanss]

Day collar nownownownownownownow

[larcenywrites]

When I- when he- …when his-

[ofallthingsnasty]

... mh... maybe I do want to be picked up by the scruff of my neck like an unruly kitten by Crocodile... and maybe it's not my scruff but a collar instead... and, you know... he's using his hook and I choke until I go blue in the face... 🫡

[theworldsforgottenboy]

boyfriend shirt <3 (its so cheesy i know but she does look ridiculously good in it)

[dansnaturepictures]

16/09/2023-Moth trap and other photos at home

Pictures in this set: 1. Lesser Broad-bordered Yellow Underwing, one of the stars of another moth trap last night an enigmatic species that I had in my room once before in 2021. It was lovely to see. 2 and 3. Garden Carpet, weirdly I saw that I'd seen this in the house in 2020 from my Facebook memories the other day and I thought that's one I need to see this year and as if by magic it was in the trap this morning. A pretty moth with a fascinating and enticing pattern. 4. A Large Yellow Underwing, a stunning large moth which we were impressed and excited by again today. 5. Another L-album Wainscot we had more than one in the trap today they've been a common one for us. 6. Hoverfly on a beautiful flower in the garden this morning. 7. Light Brown Apple moth. 8. Box Tree moth. 9. Starlings in the garden. 10. A pretty pink flower in the garden.

A stalwart of our traps alongside the Large Yellow Underwing appearing in all the ones we've done so far Square-spot Rustic completed the trap sightings. Collared Dove, House Sparrow and Goldfinch were great to see from home today too alongside Small White flying around, sedum, sunflower outside the garden and other flowers seen well. I heard Blue Tit at home again.

[whatsagirltoblogabout]

I am feeling FEELINGS about this show. My usual air of analytical narrative detachment has been completely demolished. This is at once incredibly impressive and incredibly uncomfortable. It's been a long time since I've been genuinely scared about the fates of fictional characters.

[wherethewaterstarts-andyouend]

My favorite gender: people being confused then referring me to using they/them pronouns

[screampied]

✧ ⁺˳ cw. fem! reader. husband nanami, whiney nanami, brēeding, cowgirl, mdni. adding to this

riding nanami so good that it makes him want to propose. focusing his weight purely on his rocking chair, the continuous creaks sing as you’re rutting back and forth. “s- sweetheart,” he slurs in a dreamy tune, a baritone-like rasp falling on his words. one hand of his grips toward your waist, tracing a thumb against the pretty curvature of your torso. whining yourself, you lean in toward his neck to bury your face near the crook, but he makes you collapse back. “no, no. don’t hide from me, wanna see those eyes,” and as gentle, mahogany irises meet your own, he groans. “good girl, my good girl. jus’ keep lookin’ at me, yeah.”

“kennnn,” you whimper, the repetitive dragging of your hips scratching a bittersweet carnal itch near the insides of your brain. his body heat was scorching hot, you thought you were gonna melt. the insatiable skin slapping against skin makes you deliriously numb, you want more. with your loose jaw hanging itself open, drooping—you lean in to lick a stripe up his neck. “fuck, ‘s good. mhm,” and each time you slam back and forth against him, he kisses his teeth. nanami’s sweating profusely, he barely even notices though because his entire attention’s focused on you. his pretty girl. although, the moment you start to dip your hips in a deep circular rotation, he tosses his head back.

“fuckin’ s- shittt,” he swears, and even his curses sounded so blissful . . sinful. for the first time in forever, nanami whines. the palm of his hand then closes in on your ass to give it a good firm squeeze. with fawn strands covering his eyes, he starts to shake. with his hefty chest heaving and a needy tone pouring from his voice, his gaze meets yours once more. “marry me, m- marry me, i need you to be my wife, please.”

an eyebrow of yours quirk upward at his words as a smile pierces its way against your spit-slicked lips. you throw your arms over his broad shoulders before giving him a sweet reply.

“hm?” and your hips had him going insane—the tempo, it was just right. not too fast nor too slow. the centers of your jittery knees bury itself into the sides of the chair before you whisper into his ear. “did you forget, baby? ‘m already your wife.”

nanami moans, your voice was enough to make him spasm right then and there—you sounded so sweet but your insides felt even sweeter.

your sloppy cunt grips against him tight like a vice, simply clinging onto him for dear life. within each pull and bounce against his lap, your walls were so gummy and goopy. it was just tantalizing. you were nothing but a tease and he only craved for more as each second passes.

taking in every inch of his thick cock, you hold back a noise yourself. digging the edges of your teeth into your bottom lip to suppress an incoming squeal, you kiss his neck — it was slow, you create a soft trail of butterflies with your lips. marking his neck with your own wings that press against your mouth.

“hah, oh . . are we?” he responds, panting. with a hand still glued to your hip like it’s made of adhesive, his eyes meets his ring finger. you and him were definitely still married. he groans, feeling a lump in his throat equivalent to the size of a saucer. “ah, forgive me sweetheart. ‘m sorry, y- your hips are just so..”

he doesn’t even bother trying to finish his trembling sentence before his cock kisses up against your g-spot once more. not just an ordinary kiss though, a french kiss.

it’s sloppy, passionate, and exquisitely thorough.

tangled fingers of yours claw at his cerulean blue dress collar. with cobwebs and cobwebs of slick saliva sloshing against each mouth — he huffs, shivering from your hands to roam further down his work shirt he wore. nanami was sexily slouched back, two thighs spread open for you with a single leg bouncing up and down in anticipation.

oh, he was close. his base sags and hangs as you’re rutting against him quicker and quicker. with a nice amount of fingers scraping through his hair and toying your fingertips with his scalp, you dip your tongue further into his mouth. “m- my love,” he purrs, and you don’t think you’ve ever heard him so whiney. his voice was melodic at most, each breaking syllable making the throbbing between your legs intensify. “don’t stop, please—i love you, i love you.”

“i love you too ‘ken,” you babble, feeling the elastic stretch curve and pull through your walls.

your lips part and you moan before feeling him hold your waist tight. nanami groans against your ear and it’s so low that it was almost a mere growl. it could have easily been mistaken as a growl with the raspiness in his voice. with your knees continuing to plow deeper into the chair, bouncing back and forth, he spanks you, again, and again, and again.

nanami’s about to come, you know once his prettily blown irises roll wayyy back until he’s seeing white and his thin brows curl into a proper furrow.

each sloppy bounce against his lap punctuates so good that he’s barely able to hold his moans back by now. you had him hooked. his faint poking dimples press together as he tries to speak, but instead of words, another dragging whine escapes. leaning up against his ear, your warm breath tickles his lobe. “c’mon, kento. cum in me, ‘s okay. make a mess in me, baby.”

“f- fuck, keep talk to me just like that, sweetheart ‘n i might,” he replies back in a shaky tone, feeling a chill reside up his spine.

your cunt’s addictive warmth was preparing to milk him for all that he’s worth. as he clenches down on his jaw for the umpteenth time, his grip against your waist tightens. “ugh, ‘s gonna be so much. so much for you, my sweet l- love,” and as he’s rambling, a thick load abruptly shoots into your core, dribbling into your womb. it’s hot, and when it rains it pours. nanami swallows thickly, the same lump that lived in his throat was now forming into a ball. your hips steadily slow down and you glance down to see the lewd mess emitting deeply into you. it’s so much—it’s velvety, creamy ropes of cum that quickly fill you up to the very top. as his tip spits such sloppy amounts of seed into your starved cunt, he bites his lip. “oh, ‘s still comin’ out. forgive me, ‘m givin’ you all of me, princess.”

with a soft smile, you kiss near the crevice of his mouth where a tiny crinkle caresses and marinates against his soft features. “don’t apologize for being dirty, ken. ‘s okay.” and his face softens at your words. nanami feels his body shudder with heat from how gentle you were with him.

you’re clinging onto him dry and he’s still pumping you full of ridiculous inches—featuring his beloved, syrupy textured cum. it’s a whopping amount that he could barely process how much he’s gifted to you until he actually looks down. the moment chest deflates, the sensitive crown head of his cock gives your sweetest spot its final chaste kiss. satisfied with being filled to the very brim, you don’t get off just yet. instead, you remain there, gently brushing your hips forward.

“m- marry me,” he repeats, his voice cracking.

nanami hears the squelches and spurts your own pussy makes from the residue of cum spewing from the undersides of your legs. “ah,” and he grips your chin, attempting to kiss you but his lips instead reach toward your chin. you worn him out, he’s barely even reaching your mouth and it’s cute. nanami’s got hooded half lidded eyes and a pried open mouth. he’s almost drooling for you, that’s how whipped you had him. “be my wife, i need you.”

kissing his cheek, you smile at his current pussy drunken state. taking a mental image to savor this moment forever, a thumb brushes its way against his tender cheek. “i'm your wife already, silly,” and his eyes dramatically roll back in rapture again. nanami’s releases always last long, and he’s still getting over it. his dick twitches from the sound of your voice, and he wanted more of his sweet sweet wife. the feeling of your sopping walls squeezing him for every ounce of cum he’s got makes him grunt. it feels so good that it’s almost heavenly. it’s warm and insanely sticky — oozing in ropey wads from your hole before trickling all near his lap. “all yours, ken.”

“all m- mine,” he repeats breathlessly, gently grabbing your wrist up to his mouth.

with a sheepish exhale leaving his lips, a free hand slithers its way toward your tummy. sighing deeply, nanami makes direct eye contact. “my love,” he repeats for a final time, and you gasp once he suddenly pulls out.

pouting for a second at feeling empty, he makes you lie flat on your back. nanami’s got a feral look in his eyes, broad shoulders raising up and down and messy unkempt strands all in his face, he wants one thing tonight and it’s you.

as he spreads your quavering legs open with a single hand, he then creeps two fingers toward your stuffed cunt to smear his cum near your entrance. “since we’re already married, let me g- give you a baby, sweetheart. you’d be such a good m- mommy.”

[nowoolallowed]

Collar; amulet - British Museum Collection

Inventory Number: EA67171 Second Intermediate (Pan Grave) - Early New Kingdom (Dynasty 18) Location Information: Giza (Governorate): Saqqara (Memphis)

Description:

Collar: composed of sixty-four long thin cylinders of green with some blue glazed composition strung vertically to form a collar. The beads are graded in size, the shortest at the ends. From the longest cylinder at the centre hangs a green glazed composition amulet of indeterminate shape; it is possibly just a notched cylinder. At each end of the collar is strung a green glazed composition oblate bead.

[dmitriene]

skincare with blue collar simon riley, you know that if you hadn't noticed, he wouldn't have said a word, just as he wouldn't have seen it himself, but you're lucky enough to notice the clogged, almost darkened pores on his face and gradually forming pimples, as well as blemishes from the old ones because of all the dirt that gets on his face.

all his skincare is water, not even a bar of soap, and not only was his skin quite sensitive before, his work did not leave him a chance for self care at all, unlike you, with a good set of jars to moisturize and keep the skin in order, in case something goes wrong, and you needed them, your hands fully armed, as soon as simon got home.

you dragged him into the bathroom almost from the doorstep, forcing him to throw off his work uniform and climb into the already prepared, warm bath with fragrant foam, which you prepared a couple of minutes before his arrival, since simon has a habit of texting you once he gets on his way back home, and he will not refuse a few minutes of rest in the bath, especially when his darling drags him there.

of course, it takes more time, wiping off the excess dirt from his rough skin, which has crept under both his clothes and nails, relaxing simon by rubbing the washcloth against him in a circular motion, over his tense, broad shoulders, down his wide, meaty biceps, to the scarred chest, padded with a good layer of fat, his pale eyelashes quivering, tired eyes closed, letting you do your thing, especially when you get to work on his hair.

unkempt, locks outgrown and sticking from side to side haphazardly, a little coarse under your fingers as you rake your nails up and down his nape, wetting the top of his head before squeezing a couple of drops of shampoo into the palm of your hand, starting to wash his hair, pressing your fingers into his scalp, causing simon to make sounds almost similar to the loud purrs of a loving cat, tilting his neck back.

taking care of his face passes without any complaints, he obediently puts his face on your palms, practically burying his nose in them, enjoying a couple of warm kisses with an almost sleepy smile, all while you apply facial foam to his skin, stroking and then washing away with wet palms, cleansing his face before gently sticking black pore strips on his nose, warning that the removal process can be unpleasant.

simon doesn't care as long as you do it, pampering him after a hard day of work, continuing to massage his neck and then shoulders while waiting couple of minutes before you'll need to remove the strips away, maybe then you will join him, and he will definitely take care of you too, for example, cook dinner while you rest, tucked in the warm bed.

after being spread on his fat, girthy cock, clutched tight inside your pulsing walls, your moans breathy and silenced by the needy, insatiable kisses, each one biting and messy against your lips, as you hiccup, the thick tip of his head rutting in the same spot over and over, making you gush and claw at simon's wrists weakly, his hands busy palming at your breasts with pleased hums.

main masterlist. quidelines.

[theknightlywolfe]

I would just like to remind everyone that Kate found that outfit in her Aunt Moira's closet and this is how tall Aunt Moira is compared to Kate:

So, uh, who's clothes are in your closet Aunt Moira? That isn't a man's suit and it isn't yours.

Kate: As long as we keep living in a loft so I don't lose sight of you, everything is ok.

[tired-biscuit]

choso looks like a guy that would fall asleep with your titty in his mouth.

i’m just imagining his strong arms wrapped around you as he holds you tight, his fingers twitching from time to time in his sleep; digging deeper into your shirt that’s pushed up to the collar, successfully exposing your front.

his breathing is calm and his hair is messy. he’s warm because of the non-existent distance between you, because of the way your limbs entangle together, how you hold onto him as well.

and his lips, god… they are soft and plush as they remain wrapped around your nipple. occassionally, they’ll suckle on the sensitive nub a bit, tug it further into his mouth, lick it with a lazy and gentle flick of tongue, almost toying with it even though you’re pretty sure he doesn’t do it on purpose.

trying to not pay any mind to the heat that’s steadily building up below your waist, you stroke his hair and the side of his face as he sleeps; so peacefully that he could come across as an angel despite the fact that his actions are rather sinful.

at some point, a small droplet of drool dribbles down his chin from how relaxed he becomes. he wakes because of it, ever so slightly startled by the sensation it leaves behind, long eyelashes fluttering and revealing very, very tired eyes.

before you can even say anything or wipe away the thin, glimmering line the spit has left behind on his skin, he’s already back to burrowing his entire face into your chest with a content little sigh; making sure to push you even closer with the help of a broad palm pressing against the middle of your back.

this time he does do it on purpose, though.

[toyogamii]

pt.1 pt.2

“i didn’t take you for the sit down restaurant type, ryo,” you bring your drink up to your lips and offer him a teasing smirk. he huffs and pulls at the collar of his black button down.

he doesn’t know how the hell you managed to get him, ryomen sukuna, resident town bad ass; on an actual date. but the way that sweet nickname you’ve taken to calling him rolls of your tongue might have something to do with it.

“hah, I’m usually not… figured you might be though,” he mumbles the last part, his ears turning a slight pink and you grin.

“well i appreciate you trying something new for me,” you look around at the candles and the suits and ties and most importantly at the gorgeous tattooed man in front of you (who looks so awkward in the most adorable way possible).

“however,” you continue, “i’d much rather you be comfortable for our date.”

“yeah?” he asks, giving you a grateful smile.

you nod.

“wanna get outta here?”

he flashes you a charming grin.

“hell yeah… though you might regret asking that, sweetheart.”

mere moments later you’re flying down the road, your heart pounding as you hold tight to sukuna’s waist. he’s graceful and calm as he drives the motorcycle but that does little to slow your breathing.

you’re wearing his helmet, but even through the darkened screen you can still see just how handsome he is. the street lights give him a halo like effect and the wind whips through his pink hair, pushing it out of his face.

“just a couple more minutes, doll!” he hollers over the sound of the wind and you nod, leaning your head on his broad back as best you can.

when he finally comes to a stop and you get off, your legs are still shaking and you take just a minute to gather yourself before looking around.

“takin me to a second location to dump my body off?” you ask, a brow raised.

sukuna gives you a dead pan look and pulls the helmet off your head. he freezes for just a minute as he takes in the way your hair is a mess and your makeup is a bit smudged but your eyes are crinkling and your smile is- god your smile is gonna fucking kill him one of these days.

“not funny,” he replies when he finally moves, flicking your forehead. you scrunch your face into a pout and god he wants to kiss you silly.

“where are we exactly?”

“come on.”

he turns and walks off and you hurry to catch up with him, slipping your hand into his. it takes everything in him not implode. your hand is warm and soft and so much smaller than his.

you’re killing him, he thinks, and yet… he doesn’t really seem to mind it. usually, the sound of someone rambling on and on would annoy the piss out of him. but listening to you chatter as he guides the both of you through the dark and dense patch of trees… if you’re killing him, he could die a happy man.

“we’re here,” he says. you peek around in him and gasp softly. you’re on a hill, overlooking the entirety of your home town. the street lights blare and you can hear the faint sounds of the city but the contrasting of the soft twinkling stars and the warmth of sukuna’s hand in yours has you reeling.

“it’s beautiful,” you murmur.

“i used to take yuuji here… before i had full custody of him. just to get him away from all… that.”

you nod and rest your head on his shoulder, not pushing him any further.

“i’m sure he loved it.”

sukuna chuckles and his arm makes its way around your waist.

“yeah, little brat would cry and cry when we had to leave. he won’t even remember it when he’s older though.”

you look up at him only to see he’s already looking down at you.

“you’ll remember it.”

“… yeah.”

there’s silence, a pause where time stops and suddenly the rest of the world fades away to nothing. it’s just you and him in a little bubble, away from all the craziness of the world.

before you can open your mouth to say anything, sukuna’s lips on yours. the kiss is everything that he isn’t; soft, gentle, hesitant. your arms come up to wrap around his neck and his grip on your waist tightens.

he never wants to stop kissing you. he can’t get enough of the way your tongue feels sliding against his and how your body trembles slightly as he holds you.

yeah… you’re gonna kill him one of these days, he just knows it.

pt. 4

[lalunanymph]

KITTEN, BEHAVE ☆

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ there are consequences to teasing your biker boyfriend...

⋆｡°✩ semi-public s/ex, fem!reader, biker!sylus, reader wears a skirt, reader's a nasty gal <3, undertones of dom/sub (sylus is one kinky mf), finger sucking, finger gagging, petnames (kitten, baby), fucking on his bike (hehe), c/um countdown, unprotected s/ex (wrap it up babes), sylus matches our freak perfectly, based on this thot i had

⋆｡°✩ dawn says: i've been a nasty girl ive been a nasty girl nasty nasty (sorry zayne)

Sylus isn’t one to find beauty in the mundane but the wind whipping past his frosty locks and your arms wrapped tightly around him makes him feel like he’s on cloud nine.

“Kitten, are you alright?” he calls over the lashing breeze. 

His leather jacket is ridiculously thick, but even through the material, he can feel the heat of your cheeks seeping through.

You always flush whenever he calls you your favorite pet name, and Sylus forgets that just like a kitten, you can be just as playful. 

A slender hand tipped with French nails slides down his torso, leaving blistering heat in its wake. The thin compression shirt he’s wearing under his jacket can barely fight off the warmth of your palm bleeding past the material and onto his skin.

His heart doubles in speed, and in response, he revs the N-907 Ultrabike, its wheels kicking up more dirt and dust. Linkon City speeds into a blur, White Coves’ beaches in the distance and to his right, Bloom Forest spreads her velvety green arms open for adventurous outdoor lovers to play in. 

Your hand trickles down his abs, stealing his attention back to your whims, and he smirks behind his visor when he feels your dainty, pretty little palm resting on the front of his pants.

Looks like the little kitten wants to play a dangerous game.

Two can play the same. 

Sylus pretends to ignore you, and he can tell it only frustrates you more when he remains stone cold and unmoving; a statue you’re trying to thaw.

Your free hand creeps under the hem of his shirt, and thank fuck the wind is too loud because a groan slips past his clenched teeth—it would be absolutely embarrassing if you heard it. His mind works doubly hard to focus on not crashing the bike, maneuvering it down the winding steep roads.

“I thought you said you wanted to take me for a ride,” your voice touches his heated ears, innocent and alluring. 

“Isn’t that what we’re doing, kitten?” He tilts his head back slightly and hears your snort. 

Your antics will never cease to amaze him. Whatever possessed you to be bold also eggs you on to be audacious. Your hands travel further up his shirt, pressing right onto his broad pecs and you smirk when you feel the bike wobbling slightly under his control.

“Kitten,” he hisses. “Stop it.”

But, you don’t listen to him. You never do. 

This insolent prey. He tries his damndest not to buck his hips when you start to rub his bulge, merciless with your teasing. Your other hand reaches up to his neck, where his favorite leather collar sits prettily on his defined clavicles, and tug on it, earning another hiss.

The bike skids to a stop and you’re not sure how you ended up pushed against the pillion seat, Sylus looming over you. He kills the engine and kicks down the stand, the sudden deafening silence exacerbating your heavy breathing. 

“Wait,” you squeak, and he shakes his head.

“No more waiting. This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” 

Looking around in a panic, you notice that he’s parked the bike under a secluded shade of trees, next to an empty strip of road. 

This was the same route you took to the edge of the N-109 when you were given the mission to retrieve Sylus a few months ago. 

“Familiar, isn’t it?” He reads your mind with a dark chuckle. 

Those ruby red eyes bore into yours with the grace of a predator provoked, and you, his favorite prey, will finally get what you’ve been asking for. 

“I think it’s high time we recreated some memories from the first night we both saw each other,” he drags his palm up your bare thigh, making you shiver. “It’s a good thing you’re in a pretty little skirt, kitten,” he hums, pushing the hem of your leather mini skirt—a gift from him—out of the way. 

Sylus inhales sharply when he notices the micro thong you’re wearing which barely covers anything, his nostrils flaring.

“Insufferable.”

“Sy,” you whine, unsure what he's waiting for. It's never like him to play with his food.

The press of his bigger body on top of yours cages you to the pillion seat, the friction burning when he unceremoniously drags you closer to him. 

Those intense eyes seem to devour you, and for the first time since you’ve been together with him, you see a shadow of his villainous evil in them. 

“Is this what you wanted?” 

Is this what you’ve been begging for? 

Sylus wraps a hand around your throat in broad daylight, not caring for morals or decency when he squeezes. Hard.

Your eyes roll back into your head, regret streaming in for how you teased him earlier. 

“A-ah—” you choke lightly. “Was jus’ tryna play around.” 

Sylus ignores your whimpers, a bored look on his face as he loosens his fingers, letting you suck in a wheezy breath. 

“Little hunters never learn their lessons, do they?” 

He smirks unexpectedly. 

“Remember that night you tried to tame me during our interrogation? In the end, I was the one who had you screaming, didn’t I, kitten?” 

You did remember—of course, you did.

The shine of your boots spreading his kneeling thighs apart. Leather collar around a pale strip of throat you just wanted to suck on and leave a mark. His smug leers, those glowing ruby eyes that shone like dying embers when he finally snaps off the handcuffs you placed him in and pins you to the ground for a taste of your own medicine.

As much as you hate to confront the truth, it stares you down with an impassive face and dark eyes—a truth that breaks the delusion that you were the one in control when it came to Sylus. 

He touches your thighs, spreads them further. Bright sunlight speckles through the trees, casting webs of shadows across his crooked nose and high cheekbones. 

Sylus takes his time to peel your thong off, and you bite down on your lip to muffle a whimper.

“What? Don't tell me you're all shy now?” 

He snorts in amusement at your attempts to be innocent, prying your lower lip free, stroking the curve of your plush mouth with his thumb until you relent and suck on his digit docilely. 

While you’re not inexperienced when it comes to such carnal submission, it’s the first time you’re doing it outside of the bedroom where anyone could stumble upon the both of you. 

The thought makes your thighs tense and your needy pussy clench down on thin air, something that Sylus doesn’t miss.

“You like this, huh? Being slutted out so publicly… it turns you on to be so open to me.” 

He continues to push his thumb around your mouth; pressing down on your gums, flicking the tip of your tongue, inspecting the ridges and juts of each pearly white tooth. Intentionally drawing out your humiliation. 

Satisfied with the oral inspection, he removes his thumb, swiftly stuffing your protests with two thick fingers. 

“You say ‘no’, but I can smell that sweet little cunt getting wetter,” he murmurs, flitting his dark gaze right to your folds flushing readily with need; right to that cleft which houses his favorite hole.

Lewd doesn’t begin to cover how Sylus can treat you in bed. Outside the sheets, he’s content to play the role of your partner and friend, tagging along on your adventures and explorations. 

But the second he has you trapped in his bed, he becomes a different person. 

Meaner. Assertive.

Downright cruel. 

“Do you want me to touch you?” He goads, locks of silver hair falling across his damp forehead. Sweat dews across your chest, and you feel the heat of shame rising in you.

Sylus, I was just joking, you try to argue, but he’s not hearing it. 

“Didn’t seem like a joke when you were pawing at my cock earlier, kitten,” your lover hums, unable to take his half-mast red eyes off of you.  

He slots a hand between your thighs, and you swallow a cry when he drags your thong to the side, spreading your wetness around roughly with his thumb. Sylus rubs tight circles on your aching clit, forcing you to slap a hand over your mouth to muffle your moans.

“Ssh,” he whispers when you give a tiny, choked cry. Sylus takes this chance to nuzzle your neck, inhaling your scent like a starved man. “We don’t want anyone to find us out, don’t we, kitten?” 

Evil, evil man. You bite on the inside of your palm to keep quiet when he lifts one leg to wrap around his narrow waist, effortlessly tugging his zipper down and freeing his cock. 

“One single sound and I will stop, do I make myself clear?”

There’s no choice but for you to nod. Sylus doesn’t waste a single second once he’s got you all nice and wet for him, grasping the base of his girthy and veiny length, stroking it a few times to make sure he’s hard and ready for you.

The thick tip breaches past your tight ring of muscle, and you bite down on a sharp gasp, squeezing your eyes close.

His breathing is getting heavier, and he curses the second he bottoms out in your tight heat. 

The bike begins to shake with every clean stroke, his thrusts making your toes curl and heels dig into his back. Luckily, the pillion seat is wide enough to accommodate your shaking bodies; never imagining for a single second that your lover would be boldly fucking you on it in the middle of a dangerous zone.

But, Sylus has always been like this—addictive, painful.

Dangerous. 

How he fucks you is no different. 

The blunt head touches the deepest spot inside of you, and you’re helpless to do anything but cling onto him like second skin, muffling your whines into his broad shoulder.

“Looks like the little kitten is enjoying her cream,” he murmurs, trailing his gaze down your body taking him so well. 

The veins on the back of his hands stand out, drawing your attention to him dragging the front of your blouse down, tucking your bra cups under your heaving breasts. 

Sylus’ mouth wraps around one turgid bud, sucking it till it’s shiny with his spit and throbbing from oversensitivity. 

He repeats the same motion on your neglected nipple, savoring your hitched breaths and muffled whines. 

Your thighs start to shake, and you turn your head to the side. 

Look at you, he coos and grabs your chin, forcing you to gaze at the spot between your thighs where he’s fucking into you. Look at how well you’re taking me. 

You’re so wet that droplets of white are trickling down your inner thighs, frothing into stickiness where his cock is rutting shallowly inside of you. 

“Sy,” you moan softly, eyes glossing over with tears of pleasure.

He loves how needy and pathetic you look for him with your swollen, parted mouth and tight nipples just begging to be pinched or flicked.

A furrow creases between his brows, drops of sweat trickling down his jaw. 

You surprise him by leaning forward, flattening your tongue and lapping it right up, shameless in your desire for him. 

“Naughty girl,” Sylus purrs, his red eyes darkening to an impossible black until you’re sure not a shred of your sweet boyfriend remains. Two thick fingers part your mouth open, sliding down your welcoming throat until he’s knuckle-deep in you.

Sylus chokes you out as his other hand trails down your body towards your clit, rubbing the flushed nub until your hips buck and you cry out; a master at bringing your body closer to the pleasurable brink. 

The tears beading in your lash line finally freefall down your face, triggering his devilish satisfaction. 

Returning the favor, Sylus licks them clean, chuckling cruelly at the arousal turning you cross-eyed. 

He loves it when you look this fucked out, and one day when you’re comfortable enough, he hopes you’ll relent to him taking a picture of that messed up, pretty face for his safekeeping.

Baby, you gurgle around his fingers. I’m close… 

Yeah? He goads. Gonna break for me? Come on this cock? Make a mess? Fuck—do it baby. Mess me up. Make me feel so good because that’s all you’re good for, huh? 

He grits his teeth, fighting back the cresting pleasure, needing you to come first.

Come on, baby. Come with me. Five… four… three… that’s it, baby. You’re so close, aren’t you. Don’t come until I reach zero. Fuck—that pussy’s so tight. Two… one… fuck, fuck. 

High strung keens are escaping past the cracks of his fingers stuffed in your mouth, your entire body shaking violently that Sylus thinks you’re being wrecked by an internal earthquake.

Zero. Zero. Fuck, baby. Come for me. Come on, give it to me. Give me that sweet cum. Yeah, that’s it, that’s it—

He grunts, his patience breaking, flooding inside of you in waves of heat; filling you up to the brim.

In this moment of weakness where anyone targeting him can put a bullet right through his head, Sylus thinks that if he dies right now, he would do so happily in your arms.

His forehead gently thumps onto yours and you must be as fucked up as him because you push his hair back, scratching his scalp lightly.

Your sculpted, 6’2 menace of a lover who’s seen death and destruction since the day he could speak, groans and nuzzles your cheek like a weak puppy. With every version of Sylus that you have seen before, this will always be your favorite one—where he’s comfortable enough to kiss you affectionately, bringing you down from the high.

He hums. “Satisfied?” 

Sylus would never say he loves you out loud—that’s not in his nature.

But, his actions scream louder than words when he adjusts your rumpled clothes and gives you a peck on your cheek.

“Do you still want to visit that mad scientist or should we scrap it for another day?”

The implicit invitation tempts you. 

A boring lecture or a whole day spread out on my sheets, kitten?

“Let’s go home,” you choose the latter, and Sylus tries his hardest to hide his smug smile when you refer to his penthouse as your own home.

“Of course. But, for the sake of not violating any more public decency laws, you better keep your paws to yourself until we get home, kitten.”

Proving your disobedience and your unwillingness to learn your lesson, you sink two fingers under his collar, dragging him close enough for your lips to touch. 

“That depends on if you can get us home fast enough, Sy.”

He takes it as a challenge, a grin touched with a hint of lunacy splitting across his face.

“Is that a challenge, sweetheart?” 

“No, I—”

He pulls you into a kiss, devouring your breaths until your lungs are filled with nothing but him, him, him. 

His fingers in your hair, an arm wound tightly around your waist so his favorite prey can never escape him. Sylus breaks off the kiss, ruby eyes like two bloody pools when he stares at your warm cheeks and puffy mouth. 

“You should know I always—always—win our petty bets.”

— feedback and reblogs are appreciated luvs <33

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