#hehehe was fun

[hackercult]

@beaucoupfish tagged me for four albums ive been listenin to !!!!!!

The Death Set - How To Tune A Parrot (2021)

Iglooghost, Kai Whiston - XYZ (2019)

Arca - KiCk i (2020)

Filmmaker - The Love Market (2019)

im tagging @calidotgov and @horsedestruction and @cyborgbuddy and @buddwyer !!!! if u want to :Dc *shoots a hostage

[isjasz]

Stellar death

[lil-lemon-snails]

[swordmaid]

sun goes down 🌟

astarion x tav commission for @/alays.version over on instagram. she’s consoling him after burning in the pier 😔🫶

[kyurochurro]

I STARTED HOUSE MD! :ºD

[sceletaflores]

ghosts, ghouls, goblins, and other things that go bump in the night!

pair: logan howlett x fem!reader

wc: 4.5k

contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, swearing, drinking, resident bestie diva wade wilson, matching costumes ofc, established relationship, p in v, semi-public sex (bathroom), rough sex, mirror sex, gratuitous amounts of dirty talk, light degradation, light hair pulling, light choking, nasty dirty breeding kink (@guiltyasdave infected me with the breeding kink disease...it's all her fault), 4k words for straight up porn w/o plot, no use of y/n.

nat’s note: happy halloween! sort of...i obvi couldn't wait to post this until the actual day cause i have absolutely zero patience so here you go! i thought up this idea in the middle of the night and literally got out of bed to start it. it's a nasty self indulgent mess...hope you love it! kisses <3

cutie divider by icon @saradika-graphics!

you and logan have some fun at wade's halloween party...

Unsurprising to no one, Wade Wilson knows how to throw a party. 

Every year since the two of you became neighbors, you’ve gotten a gaudy invitation decorated with cartoon bats and devils slipped under your door just in time for Halloween.

Of course, it’s always in some cheesy font, red and glittery. A crappy pun about “scaring up some fun with your favorite mercenary” with a return address listed as ‘Hell’s Playground’ inscribed on the front.

It's awful. You haven’t missed one yet.

And not just because you’re a sucker for free booze and cheap decorations. It’s like tradition now, you can't have your perfect attendance streak cut off four years in. That's just bad manners.

Besides, this is the first year you’ve gotten to do a couples costume.

“I look fuckin’ ridiculous,” Logan mutters, deep voice laced with irritation as he messes with the wolf ears perched awkwardly on his head. “Can’t believe I let you drag me to this thing.”

You don’t turn to face him, but you can still see the frown tugging his lips down in your mind. Logan’s never been one for costumes, but his options were either dress up or stay home while you went and had fun without him.

He was dead set on staying at home for most of the day.

One look at the frilly white bloomers that came with your costume and he changed his tune.

“Quit being such a baby,” you toss over your shoulder, pouring your second cup of whatever Wade mixed together in the mini cauldron sitting on his bar. “You look great, babe.”

He really shouldn’t complain, his costume is barely a costume. An old flannel with the sleeves ripped off and some mangy jeans.

The fake ears and tail were a struggle and a half to get him on board with, but Logan’s all bark and no bite. He was more than willing to roll over and show you his belly after enough begging.

Logan scoffs, big hand pawing at your hip to drag you to his side. “You owe me for this,” he rumbles low in your ear, the playful threat sending a shiver down your spine.

“You’ll survive,” you tease, a smug grin spreading across your face as you tug playfully on the tail clipped to his belt loop. “Unless you wanted to switch?”

Logan’s eyes drag over your body shamelessly, all the way from the floppy sheep ears sitting on your head to the lacy white corset and matching bloomers that do little to hide your curves. 

You don’t miss the way his eyes darken, how he runs his tongue along the sharp point of his canines like he wants to sink his teeth into you.

It sends a familiar heat coursing through your veins, warming your insides just as much as the vodka with a hint of mixer you’ve been sipping at.

You start to wish you shelled out for the fake fangs at the party store.

Logan tugs you closer, his lips curling into a slow, predatory smirk. “Not a chance in hell,” he rasps, voice dipping a couple octaves lower. “Looks better on you, baby.”

You hum idly as his arm snakes around your waist, fingers splayed along your lower back, inching dangerously close to the swell of your ass.

“You better behave,” you chastise, though it’s more playful than stern as you look up at him through your lashes. “We’re in public.”

Logan’s grip tightens, a soft grunt leaving him as he leans in, nosing along the side of your face. “Doesn’t seem like much of a party when all I’m thinkin’ about is how fast I can get you outta this damn costume.”

Blood rushes to your cheeks, the warm puff of his breath over your skin makes your knees feel weak. You try to keep your cool, but it’s hard when he’s practically radiating heat and that intoxicating scent of leather and pine fills your senses. 

Before you can respond, a loud call of your name grabs your attention. 

"There you are!" Wade shouts from across the room, already making his way towards you.

All six foot two and half inches of him is wrapped in blue and white lace, paired with a matching hoop skirt that bounces with every step he takes. His shepherd's staff thuds against the floor when he comes to a stop in front of you. “Fashionably late, I see.”

“We’ve been here for thirty minutes,” you point out, brow cocked as you take in his costume. “Where’ve you been?”

“I’m the hostess with the mostest, honey bunny,” he says, throwing his arm out to gesture towards all the dressed up guests crammed into his living room. “Can’t spread myself too thin.”

He eyes Logan's wolf ears and fake tail, then turns back to you, wiggling his brows suggestively. 

"Kinky,” he comments, flicking the little gold bell hanging from the choker around your neck. “You two just couldn’t resist a little predator-prey roleplay, huh? Should I be worried about you getting all ‘Animal Planet’ on my couch?”

Logan’s grip on your waist tightens, his mouth brushing your ear as he mutters, “I’m gonna kill him before midnight.”

“Now, now, big bad wolf, no need to huff and puff and blow my skirt up. We’re all here to have a howl of a time!” Wade continues, undeterred. “Plus, if you behave, I might just let you keep your sheep when the night’s over.”

You can practically feel Logan’s eye twitch, but you snicker, leaning into him just a little more. “Play nice, Wade,” you say, trying to smother your laugh. “The wolf might eat you first.”

“Please,’ Wade snorts, twirling his shepherd's staff deftly in his hand. “If that’s on the table, I’ll lay out the fucking fine china.”

Logan lets out a huff of air, dropping his hold on you and brushing past Wade with a grunt. "I'm gettin' another beer."

“Try not to stab anyone!” Wade shouts after him, loud enough to be heard over the Monster Mash blaring from the speakers. “Al might blow the whole complex if any more blood gets on the linoleum!”

Logan throws a middle finger over his shoulder as he disappears into the kitchen. 

You watch him go, a grin plastered to your face at the way the tail swings with every step he takes. Something warm and fuzzy settles in your chest, blooming in the empty space of your ribcage.

You know Logan hates this–the people, the lights, the music, the costumes.

But he’s here anyway, for you.

Here wearing the stupid wolf costume you bought for him, surrounded by drunk people in inflatable dinosaur costumes and witches with dollar-store broomsticks. And despite all the grumbling, he hasn’t bolted for the door once.

All for you. And that makes your heart thump a little harder in your chest, your smirk softening into something sweeter.

"You’ve got him whipped," Wade deadpans, crossing his arms, the lace of his sleeves rustling as he does. “It’s really disgusting.”

You snort, shaking your head softly. "More like he's got a soft spot."

Wade eyes you skeptically. "Same thing, toots."

You hum noncommittally, turning back to him. “Cute outfit,” you comment, eyeing the white bonnet secured by a neat little bow under his chin.

“You like it?” Wade does a quick twirl, the blonde curls of his wig nearly slap you across the face as he does. “The guy at party city kept giving me weird looks, but I think he was just jealous of how well I fill in the blouse.”

You rake your gaze over him slowly, taking another slow sip from your cup. “The stockings are a nice touch, but don’t you think running around as Little Bo Peep will send some confusing messages.”

“Well, duh. That’s only the whole point, Sherlock.” Wade snorts, shaking his head like it’s obvious. “I’m way too emotionally invested in this relationship to not try and wiggle my way into throuple territory.”

You can’t help but laugh, rolling your eyes. “A throuple? Hate to break it to you, Peep, but Logan doesn’t really strike me as the sharing type.”

Wade leans in conspiratorially, cupping a hand around his mouth like he’s letting you in on a secret. “That’s why I’m playing the long game. Gotta wear him down with my irresistible charm, and when he finally snaps, I’ll swoop in with a bottle of Jack and a promise of no strings attached.”

You shake your head, chuckling into your drink. “You’ve got it all figured out, don't you?”

“Oh, honey,” Wade purrs, winking at you with a dramatic flutter of his lashes, “I've got a five-year plan.”

You roll your head to the side lazily, sheep ears swaying as you do. “I’ll give you points for persistence.”

"Damn straight," he says with a grin, straightening his bonnet proudly. “This level of commitment takes stamina. And by the way, I’ve got great stamina. My record is thirteen.”

You raise your brow, intrigued. “Thirteen what? Rounds? Hours?”

“Wouldn't you like to know,” he scoffs indignantly, rolling his eyes. “I’m more than just a pretty face in a killer dress, thank you very much.”

You groan, giving him a light push. "You’re impossible."

Wade grins, leaning closer to throw an arm around your shoulders. “I’m just pulling your tail, Wooly. You know I’d never come between you and your beefy boy toy. I mean, look at him. He’s practically pacing the kitchen like a caged animal just looking at you in your slutty nursery rhyme getup. How pathetic.”

You turn to steal a glance at Logan, who’s leaned against the counter scanning the room from behind his beer bottle. You feel a thrill at the idea that he’s watching over you like a hawk, making sure no one gets too close, slowly working himself up over the mere sight of you. 

But more than that, it’s the slight reluctant smirk tugging at his lips as he takes in the party. You can tell he’s managing to find some enjoyment in all this, even if he’d never admit it.

“Well,” Wade starts, dragging the word out slowly. “Since you’re all cozy over here with your alpha male, I’m gonna go find someone to share these…”

He holds up two shot glasses filled with some unidentifiable neon liquid, “…artisanal beverages with. Maybe that guy dressed like a merman. I’ve always wanted to see what's going on under those tails.”

You snort, raising your own cup to your lips. "You're awful."

“Only on the outside, sugar,” he says leaning down to kiss your cheek with a wet smack before flouncing away into the crowd, his skirt swishing as he goes. “Don’t fuck in my house without at least inviting me to watch!”

You laugh to yourself, watching as Wade fades into the crowd of gyrating bodies. You take another long sip, relishing in the familiar burn as it slips down your throat.

The laughter, the music, the chaotic energy of the party—it’s all intoxicating in its own right, but it’s nothing compared to the way Logan’s eyes are boring a hole through the back of your head.

You can feel his gaze like a tangible force, wrapping around you and drawing you in. Logan’s not just watching; he’s assessing, hungry for something that goes far beyond the Halloween festivities surrounding you.

The heat radiating from his gaze only intensifies your already buzzing anticipation, mixing dangerously with the two drinks swirling in your stomach, making you bolder.

You throw back the rest of your drink, setting the empty cup on the bar and making your way across the room. You weave through the crowd seamlessly, the music pulses around you, drowning out the laughter and chatter.

You feel a daring grin spread across your face as you saunter closer, reveling in the way Logan tracks your every move like a predator zeroing in on its prey. 

When you’re finally standing in front of him, you lean against the counter, giving him a good view of the way your corset dips lower. The fabric hugs you in all the right places, teasing him with glimpses of your skin beneath the delicate lace. 

"Looks like Little Bo Peep lost his sheep," he mutters, voice like gravel drenched in honey.

You smirk, tilting your head to the side innocently as you step around the counter. “Maybe I was already planning to run away, to go looking for a big bad wolf to play with.”

You slip two fingers through the belt loop at the front of his jeans, tugging him closer with a rough yank.

Logan’s goes willingly, taking a step closer. His breath hitches as he does, the hazel of his eyes darkening as you press your body against his, not letting an inch of space between you.

“You're really pushin it,” he warns lowly, hands finding your waist, fingers digging in hard enough to send a shiver cascading down your spine. "Makin’ me watch you run around in this fuckin’ thing.”

“Am I?” you reply coyly, fingers toying with the button of his jeans. “I’m just—” you start, but the words are swallowed by the thumping bass of the music as Logan’s lips crash against yours, silencing you with a hungry kiss.

His mouth moves against yours with a fervor that leaves you breathless, and you can’t help but melt into him, feeling the world around you fade away.

The taste of beer mingles with the vodka on your tongue as you sink into the kiss, his hands tightening around you as he pulls you even closer.

“You have no fuckin’ idea how hard it is keepin’ my hands to myself,” he murmurs against your lips, his breath hot and heavy. 

“Oh, I think I have a pretty good idea,” you tease, biting your lip as you pull back just enough to meet his gaze. You can see the fire smoldering in his eyes, the predatory glint that makes your stomach flutter with excitement. “But maybe you could show me just how hard it really is.”

Logan lets out a low growl, and before you can blink, he’s snatching your wrist up and dragging you through the kitchen. 

Laughter bubbles out from your chest as you trip over your own feet in an attempt to keep up with him. Adrenaline pulses through your veins, the warmth in your stomach dipping lower to leak sticky and wet between your thighs.

He’s not rushing, but there’s an undeniable urgency in his step, a raw need that makes your pulse race in sync with his heavy stride. Weaving you through the crowd and out into the hallway until the noise of the party gets lower and lower. 

You’re familiar enough with the layout of Wade’s place to know where Logan’s taking you, the bathroom.

The door is hardly shut before Logan’s spinning you around and crowding you against the sink. His lips are on you before you can even catch your breath, rough and possessive, as if he’s been starving for this all night. 

The kiss is rougher than before, dirty and all consuming as he claims your mouth. A mess of teeth and tongue and spit that sends your head spinning, body arching off the counter and into his instinctively. 

“Fuck, you taste so good,” he growls, trailing his lips down your neck, kissing and biting his way to your collarbone. “Drivin’ me so crazy, baby.”

You bite your lip, eyes fluttering shut for a moment as his calloused fingers trace over the swell of your breasts, kneading the soft flesh with a possessive grip that makes your breath hitch. 

Your arms circle his neck, dragging him down for more filthy kisses. The thick length of his cock pressing against your stomach insistently has you keening, a hard plane of scalding warmth even through the thick material of his jeans.

You let out a soft whimper as his fingers brush against your inner thigh, and he grins at your reaction.

He leans in, his breath hot against your ear. "Bet you’re already soaked for me, aren’t you?" His voice drops even lower, a filthy rasp that sends a jolt of heat straight to your core.

You don’t answer, can’t answer, because Logan’s already got his hand between your thighs, fingers teasing over the soft fabric of your bloomers.

His touch is feather-light, but it’s enough to have you gasping, head lolling back to expose even more of your neck to his fever hot lips.

He groans when he feels how soaked you are, his breath coming out in a rough exhale.

“Figures,” he grunts, his fingers pressing harder, rubbing slow circles over the slick fabric. “Could smell it on you from across the room. You’re fuckin’ drippin’ for me, baby.”

You whine, high in the back of your throat, chest heaving with every quick breath. Your legs spread, thighs widening like you can’t help it. His words send a wave of heat straight to your core, fanning the fire of need festering inside you. 

“Next year we’ll get you in a skirt,” he says, nipping at your bottom lip teasingly. His fingers slip under your bloomers, running through your slick folds teasingly. “Easy access.”

You let out a breathless moan, your hips bucking against his hand, begging for more.

“Logan,” you whimper, but he just smirks, applying more pressure with his palm as he leans in closer, his mouth hovering over your ear.

“You like that, don’t you?” Logan rasps, his voice thick with desire. Dark tone laced with satisfaction as he dips one finger inside you, making your breath catch in your throat. “Look at you, drippin’ down my hand. You want more, don’t you?”

“Yes,” you nod frantically, your breath coming in shallow pants as he continues working you with skilled, relentless touches.

Two thick fingers plunged in your aching pussy, his thumb rubbing over your swollen clit. "Please," you whimper, gripping the edge of the sink so tight your knuckles turn with it, needing more, needing him to ruin you. 

“Please what, honey?” he rasps, leaning in to press a sweet kiss to the corner of your mouth. “You gotta be more specific.”

You grind against his hand faster, desperate for any kind of relief from the unbearable heat building between your legs. “I need you,” you breathe out, your voice trembling. “Need you to fuck me.”

Logan’s response is immediate. A low growl tearing its way from his throat as he gives your bottoms a rough tug, letting them fall down the length of your legs to pool at your ankles.

He slips his fingers out of you, ignoring your displeased whine and spinning you around to face the mirror, hands gripping your hips as he roughly bends you over the sink.

You find his eyes in the reflection, and the hunger there makes your pulse quicken. His lips are swollen, red and slick just like your own. Hazel eyes blown out and stormy, as he meets your gaze.

The fake whiskers and nose you drew on him before the party using an old eyeliner pen are smudged across the lower half of his face along with the red remnants of your lipstick. You have matching black marks scuffed along your cheeks.

"You’re gonna watch while I fuck you," he growls, popping the button of his jeans and pulling them down just enough to free his cock. He strokes himself once, twice, before lining up behind you, dragging the blunt head along your soaked entrance. "Don’t take your eyes off the mirror, baby. I want you to see what you do to me, what I get to see every fuckin’ time."

You nod breathlessly, eyes locked on his in the mirror as he pushes into you with one hard thrust. You gasp at the stretch, head falling to your chin at the pleasant burn of his cock.

"Fuck," Logan groans, his eyes glued to your reflection as he bottoms out inside you, the sheer size of him making your body tremble.

"Tight little fuckin’ pussy," he mutters, his grip on your hips tightening as he starts to move, setting a brutal, unrelenting pace. "You were made for this, weren’t you? Made to take my cock."

You can’t stop the moans that fall from your slack lips, pathetic little uh uh uh sounds that get punched out of you with every sharp thrust of his hips.

“Take me so fuckin’ well,” he growls, one hand coming up to grip around your throat, tugging meanly at the bell of your choker that rings as he pounds into you, each thrust harder than the last. “Such a good little sheep, lettin’ your mean old wolf fuck you like this.”

 "Fuck," you moan, the sound broken and desperate as he drives deeper, the thick length of him hitting that spot that has your knees buckling beneath you. “God, Logan…”

“Look,” Logan commands softly, reverently. His lips brushing your shoulder with every word as he tilts your head back up to the mirror, making yourself watch as you take his cock. “Look at how fuckin’ pretty you are getting wrecked on my cock.”

Your reflection in the mirror is a mess—flushed cheeks, eyes glassy with lust, your lips parted in a constant stream of breathless moans. You feel embarrassment mixing with the arousal swirling through your stomach, thighs shaking wildly from the onslaught of pleasure.

The loud slap of skin on skin rings through the tiny bathroom, underscored by the wet gush of your pussy around him each time he buries himself in you.

If anyone were to walk by, they’d surely hear it. They’d know someone was getting fucked, really taking it. The thought alone has you tightening around Logan’s cock, velvety walls clenching around him desperately. 

Logan notices, because of course he does, clever eyes picking up on the way your own drift to the door, lingering.

He threads his fingers through your hair, meanly yanking your head back to the mirror, a feral grin stretching across his face as he watches the way you fall apart for him. 

“Want me to howl for you, baby?” he teases, breath hot against the shell of your ear. You can feel the way his lips curve into an evil grin at the pathetic whine that bursts from your lips, at the feel of your pussy drooling around him even more than before.  

“She likes that, huh?” he chuckles darkly, his thumb finds your throbbing clit, rubbing tight circles as his hips speed up impossibly faster. “Dirty fuckin’ girl, you want everyone to know how good I’m givin’ it to you?”

You whimper, overwhelmed by the raw intensity of his words and the rhythm of his thrusts. Your thighs are trembling, barely able to hold you up as Logan takes you apart, piece by piece, with every deep, punishing stroke.

"Answer me," he growls, voice dripping with dominance as his hips snap against you, the head of his cock slamming into that perfect spot inside you again and again. "You want everyone to hear what a dirty little slut you are for me, huh? You want them to know how much you love being fucked like this?"

“Yes,” you gasp, your voice shaky and breathless as pleasure floods your system. "Yes, Logan, fuck—ah! Just—just don’t stop."

Logan growls, low and feral deep in his chest. It shakes through your body, rattling your bones just as much as the heavy smack of his metal laced pelvis against the raw skin of your ass.

“Greedy fuckin’ pussy, I can feel the way she’s sucking me in, baby,” he grits out, hips stuttering slightly. “She want my come, darlin’?"

You’re a mess of gasps and whimpers, nodding frantically as his words push you closer to the edge. Throwing your hips back to meet his thrusts as the spring inside you coils tighter and tighter, a hair's breadth away from snapping.

"Yes, please, Logan," you moan, your fingers digging into the counter as you brace yourself for the relentless onslaught of his cock. "I want it, want you to come inside me." 

Logan’s hips stutter as he slams into you, his cock buried so deep inside you it feels like he’s splitting you in half. He’s close, his breath coming out in ragged pants as his hand tightens around your throat, fingers pressing against your pulse just hard enough to make you dizzy.

“You’re gonna come for me,” he growls, heavy balls slapping against your ass lewdly. “Gonna come all over my cock, aren’t you? And then I’m gonna fill you up. Gonna fuck my come so deep inside you, you’ll be beggin’ me to give you more.”

That’s all it takes for the coil in your belly to snap, pleasure surging through you in hot, uncontrollable waves. You cry out, your vision blurring as your body clenches around him, and Logan lets out a rough growl, driving into you harder, faster. 

He doesn’t stop, doesn’t slow, dragging out every last second of your orgasm until you’re shaking, your voice hoarse from how loud you’re moaning.

“Goddamn, baby,” he mutters, his voice thick with lust as he keeps fucking into your trembling body. “You’re squeezin’ me so fuckin’ tight—gonna come so deep in you.”

Your breath is coming in short, desperate gasps, your entire body still shaking from the aftershocks of your orgasm. But Logan isn’t finished. He used the fistful of your hair still trapped in his hand, tugging your head back to meet his wild gaze in the mirror. 

“Eyes on me,” he commands, his pace growing erratic. “You want me to fill you up? Want me to come in this tight little pussy?”

“Yes, Logan,” you manage to choke out, your voice barely a whisper. “Please—I need it.”

With a deep, broken groan of your name, Logan slams into you one last time, his hips stuttering as he spills inside you, hot and thick. His fingers tighten on your throat, and you moan at the feeling of his cock pulsing, filling you up to the brim. 

You can’t stop the whine that falls from your lips at the feel of his come spraying your insides, completely drenching you with it. So much that it just has to take.

A shudder runs through you at the idea, pussy clenching around his spent cock weakly.

Logan sighs contently, dropping his head to rest on your shoulder as he catches his breath, hands falling to your waist like it's the only anchor keeping him from floating away entirely.

For a moment, the only sounds in the room are your ragged breaths and the faint thump of the music outside bleeding through the walls.

Logan tips his head back up, meeting your hazy eyes in the fogged up glass of the mirror with a shit-eating grin. “Happy fuckin’ Halloween,” he says smugly, dropping a kiss to the sweaty skin of your shoulder. 

You huff, rolling your eyes with a reluctant fondness. The thought of walking back out there makes your stomach turn, nerves and arousal churning together at the chance that everyone knows what you two were doing after disappearing for so long.

You only hope the white fabric of your bloomers is good enough at hiding the come already leaking from your pussy.

tags are now in the comments! if you want to get tagged for any of my works just fill out this form!

[roe-oo]

ethogirl?

[mi-olaaa]

Pretty girl.. (18+)

Fem!reader, softdom!ony, bf!ony, plussize!reader katoptronophilia, you alr know what it isss! Smut so no minors.. ofc. Enjoy!!

☆ ⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ ☆

“Hey. Look at me mamas.” Ony murmurs into your ear, so sweetly. Too sweetly, especially for the way his dick is curving up into your gummy walls, but you listen, looking in the floor length mirror in front of you, watching how sinfully delicious he looks to you. “Onyy— fuck, i can’t” Your whines echo around the room, your head drooping slightly.

He grabs your face by your chin, gently peppering kisses, his grip on your hips tightening for a moment, as he pounds up into your dripping cunt. "Yes you can mama, this is your dick. Take it." You swear you were gonna die when he grinned so deviously at you in the mirror, the way he lowered those pretty eyes of his at you, the way his touch has you writhing under him.

You’ve been sitting on his lap in front of this damned mirror for almost an hour, looking at him bouncing you up and down by the hips, orgasm after orgasm, and he wants you to keep looking at him?

Ony's tip was reaching spots in you that you didn't even know existed, brushing up against your cervix, eliciting moans and pants from your mouth. He nips at your neck, hand leaving your chin, snaking around to your clit, rubbing circles around the puffy folds. "Baby, Ony— ouhhh please" You could feel his slender fingers on your clit, massaging the sensitive bundle.

"Please what? Use your voice pretty girl." He looks up at the mirror, watching his cock piston in and out of your pussy, and all you could do is drool. “Haah— stop teasing me please.” The moan that ripped out of your throat was pure bliss, and before you could even say it, you were squirting over his digits, some of your arousal even splattering on the bottom of the mirror in front of you two.

The clear, warm arousal of yours had him fucking into you like a madman. Ony’s grip on your hip tightened as you spasm slightly, his fingers dripping. While he had your attention on him in the mirror, he brought his fingers to his lips, licking the taste of you off of them. “Taste so fucking good mamas, need to eat you next time.” And again with that sexy gaze of his, looking directly at you this time as you nod lazily.

The way he was digging into you so deep had you damn-near screaming his name, pussy squeezing his length like a vice, milking him for all he’s got.

“Mhm mhm baby. Look at me, do what I told you, look at me.” He croons into your ear, the hand that’s not already holding you by your hips and slamming you down onto him, wraps around your torso, massaging your lovely breasts, as you come undone again.

Your moans come out wantonly, and you’re nothing but a drooling, sticky mess for him, it almost makes him wonder if it’s because you can everything in mirror? Doesn’t matter, with the way he’s filling you so good and fucking you so fast, you’re seeing stars and panting.

It’s interesting though, the way your face contorts in pleasure in the mirror to his ministrations, the way your thick thighs jiggle when you bounce on him, the tears of pleasure streaming down your cheeks as your back arches so sinfully, it’s too much.

And all it does is make Ony groan, and lean down to capture one of your tears on his tongue. “C’mon mama, just one more. You think you can do that f’me?” He speaks, trying so sweetly to coax another orgasm out of you.

It takes almost all the power you have to find an orgasm in you, but you don’t have to do much with how attentive he is to you and your needs. Massaging and toying with your nipples, whispering praise in your ears, pushing all your buttons, just to see his pretty girl cum again, and you do. You come absolutely undone on his dick, a pretty, creamy white ring of your arousal at the base of his cock, all the while, he slows his thrusts, having cum into you more times than you both could count.

By the time the both of you have came to your senses, he finally pulls out of your pretty, fat pussy. Watching as dribbles of cum spill out of you, kissing your neck once again. “See, I knew you had one more in you, good job mama.” He murmurs into your panting skin, side-eyeing you in the mirror, and how you tremble slightly, looking like a deer in headlights, massaging your sore thighs, admiring the fat of them.

Too tired to do anything but nod and stick a lazy thumb up, you slump on his chest, relishing in how warm he is. Ony doesn’t bother with clean up right now, he’ll do it sometime later, all he currently cares about is getting you into bed, especially with the way you just fell asleep on him. He picks you up from the small of your back and the back of your knees, bridal-style, before getting off the edge of the bed.

Flicking off the main lights in your shared bedroom, leaving the ambient lights on, he climbs into bed, setting you down and covering you up, holding you as you both wind down, petting your head softly, and smoking a blunt before going to bed.

That dick really fucked his pretty girl to sleep.

☆ ⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ ☆

Authors note: heyyyy 🤭 ion have nun to say for once.. so imma shut my fat ass up. 🙃 LOVE Y’ALL 🫶🏾

[minjimunji]

Okay I know I said the last kiss scene I drew was obligatory but this one is actually required for all pjo artists

Speedpaint under the cut ⬇️

[sakasakiii]

elrond through the ages based on one glorious panel from chapter 95 of Black Butler (hopefully i got that right....). in the context of this sequence, i always thought it was sad to think abt how many people elrond has lost throughout his life alongside how remarkable he is to remain "as kind as summer" still by the time the hobbit rolls around 🥺

i redrew elrond's poses based on ciel's in the original panels BUT i forgot what page exactly the original panel sequence is... however!! if you scroll down to the middle half of this blog post you can find the original reference pic :D warning that it includes heavy spoilers for the black butler manga so u could just alternatively google 'ciel phantomhive running' and it'd probably be one of the first results that pop up haha

[fuckyeahgoodomens]

[isjasz]

2- Two of Wands

(Planning, Decisions, Discovery)

My piece!! for @the-hermit-arcana :D!!! I had such a blast drawing this piece, though the colors and lighting were actively trying to kill me HSKFNEKWJ. Spot all the empires on the globe 💥💥 (This is also a reference to the original Raider Waite deck!)

And definitely check out the whole arcana HERE! This is SUCH A COOL PROJECT ISTG EVERY CARD IS SO PRETTYYY and the graphics of the booklet are phenomenal <3 go read my description for my card too ;3

[kabukiaku]

a self-indulgent hunter cause i've been rewatching the owl house 💜🎃

[hungharrington]

Your last blurb has me thinking of Steve and soft early relationship smut where it’s still fairly new and exciting and he’s just so sweet and wants to be close to you 💔💔

this is basically the premise of a little less conversation BUT it’s also such a good prompt anyways that i wanna write something goofy n domestic hehe <3 u put heartbreak emojis but i’m making this goopy sry! and actually it’s not even soft god i’m sorry MDNI this entire blog is 18+

Steve sinks into you in one slow thrust and makes a noise like he’s been stabbed, his forehead to your collarbone.

For one very long moment, he doesn’t move.

“You… you okay?” You ask, all breathy yourself. Your cunt pulses wildly, eager for him to start moving, for some friction— but you’re worried he’s maybe hurt himself somehow. “Steve?”

“I’m good,” He hisses, voice all tight like he is very much not at all good. It blends away as a husky tone threads through his voice. “God, sorry, you just feel—“

He gives a little rock of his hips, pulling out an inch and thrusting back in and a beautiful moan pulls from his lips. He does it again, pulling out a little further and pushing himself back in to your wet, inviting cunt.

He groans again, “Oh my god, I like you so much.”

You startle a laugh, your arms around his neck sliding down so you can pull his head up a bit. Steve’s flushed and looking sheepish by the time you get him face to face. His hips haven’t stopped moving, still small, perfect thrusts in and out, driving you mad.

“Sorry,” He says again, half panting. “Not the best thing to say the first time we fuck but,” He huffs, a throaty moan slipping out in the middle of the sentence. “It’s true.”

You’re beginning to pant too, all your inhales sounding gaspy and high. Your thighs spread more instinctively, pulling them further back to your chest, letting him get in deeper.

“N-No, it’s good,” You say, smiling a bit as he focuses on your face, his lips parted and pupils blown wide. “I really like you too.”

Your words inspire another moan, particularly loud, and his hips rut into you with more fervor, a soft lewd squelching noise beginning to fill the bedroom. Steve moans shakily, peppering sloppy kisses up the side of your neck.

One hand shifts on your hip, sliding up to press your leg further out and unexpectedly, and there’s an audible pop of a joint cracking. Steve stills instantly, still inside you, as he stares down at your hip.

“Oh my god—”

“No, no, it’s fine!” You hastily interrupt, knowing what he’s thinking. You tug his gaze over to you and away from your leg, seeing the smidge of panic in his eyes. “It just cracks sometimes, you couldn’t know that, it’s fine, it didn’t hurt.”

Steve deflates rapidly, giving a relieved chuckle against your chest where he buries his face. When he speaks, his words are all muffled, “I thought I broke your hip.”

You can’t help it, you laugh a bit at that— imagining his panic at the thought. For the third time, you urge his face up and out of hiding, leaning up to nuzzle against his face.

“Quickest way to end a relationship ever,” He jokes, but you can hear the genuine worry beneath his humour.

“No, no, I’m sorry I should’ve told you,” You murmur tenderly, dropping little kisses along his cheeks and nose. His face blazes hot beneath your ardent affection. “But hey, we’re figuring it out, aren’t we? That’s part of the fun, yeah?”

You use your ankles, crossed over his tailbone, to press him into you and Steve gets the message quickly, starting up his gentle thrusts again with a grunt. The soft noises of sex resume, mixed with your combined low moans. The rhythm from before is easy to slip back into. Your cunt throbs hotly, pleasure starting to drool through your stomach.

“Yeah,” Steve breathes heavily, watching your face closely. “Part of the fun. Fuck, you’re so pretty.”

He says it so sincerely that it makes you gasp, clenching around him and eyes screwing closed for a moment. A low whine crawls out your throat.

“God, fuck you for saying that,” You say, with no heat at all. You can’t open your eyes just yet, you’ll combust if you see how handsome he looks right now.

“Yeah?” Steve huffs, sounding a little smug. Your cunt gushes at the sound of his voice. “Oh, you’re right. Figuring this stuff out is the fun part.”

You whine as he fucks in a little harder, the angle just right to have your gut twisting up in pleasure. Your breath is ragged and you finally open your eyes again, swallowing back another sound at the sight of Steve. Messy haired, pink cheeks, reddened lips. He looks hotter than you’ve ever seen him.

“Shut up and hold my hand,” You say— because two can play that game. It works a charm. You can feel the stutter in his hips, see the ripple on his face, hear the whimper in his throat.

Steve keens, tucking his face down into your neck again. His hand searches the sheets til it finds yours, fingers intertwining before he presses your linked hands into the mattress and ruts into your snug cunt harder and faster, deeper.

“F-Fuck,” He stammers, a moan lilting the word. “I like you so much.”

You can’t even laugh this time round because your mind is starting to melt a little at the edges— but it makes the pleasure all that much better, knowing he means it.

[luminologism]

skytober day 31 - king

in my eden

[lewkwoodnco]

a week in the life of London's youngest agency head (insp.)