#i always love how you draw him... he looks so fucking good......

[hitomisuzuya]

husband scara worshipping his pretty wife and edging her with a vibrator in front of a mirror because he had to share that delightful sight with her🏃🏻‍♀️‍➡️

husband!scaramouche x fem!reader. smut. edging in front of a mirror. sex toy/vibrator. lots of praise.

i am not kidding, there was only about 1% difference in the poll for each choice. so i made up the difference and wrote husband scara first.

nobody thought scaramouche and marriage went in the same sentence. color even him impressed that one arm held you steady with your back against his chest, his legs keeping yours apart while he pumps a vibrator in and out of your sopping cunt.

edging you, his precious, delicate wife in front of a mirror. he needs you to see how beautiful you look whining and twitching against him.

his tongue licks the shell of your ear. "look at how pretty your pussy looks sucking this vibrator in," he purrs in your ear, bringing his hand up under your chin, making sure your gaze is absolutely focused on the mirror.

scaramouche gets off on being a doting husband in the bedroom. to him, there is nothing that makes him a man more than making his wife cum hard.

his thumb presses the button to change the setting, pulling it out of your pussy. slowly, he massaged the vibrator around and around your throbbing clit. you whine feeling the much softer vibrations, writhing against his chest as you grind on the vibrator. "your swollen clit looks so fucking cute," he nips gently at your ear lobe, making you shiver, "it makes me wanna flip you onto your back and suck on it while you gush on this vibrator."

you struggle to draw a steady breath into your lungs as your walls clench around nothing. "mmpphh, scara," you whine, your thighs trembling as you chase the delicious friction on your clit, "i can't take much more.." he'd been idly changing the settings randomly, perfectly timed when you are about to cum.

scaramouche smirks prideful at your words. a doting husband also knows his wife's body well. "aw, is it too much?" he coos in your ear, "does my pretty wife need to cum?"

"yes! yes, i love you, please. yes!" you babble, the pulsing in your pussy taking your breath away.

his cock pulses against your thigh, precum leaking from the tip and sticking to it. "fuck, you know i know i love it when you beg so needy," he grinds his ever hardening cock against your thigh, letting you know exactly what you are doing to him. "do you hear how cute you sound?"

his praise is only overwhelming your body faster. "am i being a good girl? am i? am i?" you plead behind your moans, your hands clutching at his thighs.

"the goodest girl ever," he purrs, making you somehow moan louder than before, "now let me work. i'll take care of you, i promise," he nuzzles his cheek on top of your head. he feels you absolutely melt against him hearing him say you are a good girl, and it only turns him on more.

scaramouche knows that a doting husband always keeps promises.

turning up the setting on the vibrator, he pushes it back inside of you, leaving it humming on your sweet spot. the consistent, stronger hums make your walls spasm tighter.

his hands come up to play with your nipples for extra stimulation, relishing in the mess he'd reduced you to. your poor little body was so overwhelmed with pleasure that you barely string two words together around your shameless moans.

"it's okay, let it all out," he purrs, swearing he could cum at the sight of you so close to orgasm.

a calculated pinch on your nipple helped push you over the edge, your pussy gushing on the toy practically on command. with a cry of his name, your orgasm is all but ripped out of you. one of his hands comes down to rub your clit through the intensity. "look at you, pretty. all shaking while you cum."

[cillianmurphysdimples]

A Female Y/N / Cillian fanfic (Part Seventy One)

Absolutely not based on anything real at all, all totally fictional, fanciful and is all total bollocks.

Warnings for sexual references and language. Adult themes. Not suitable for under 18s.

We Got Issues

Part Seventy One: Y/N anxiety is at an all time high as she fears for Clíodhna in the wake of her struggles, but Cillian's fears and anxieties for his daughter seem to consume him more viciously than anyone anticipated they would. [Emotional/Angst/Medical fears surrounding care of preemie babies]

@cherrycilly @aesthetic0cherryblossom @meister95 @vivianleighwishesshewasme @watermeezer @meadowshelby @strangeions @borntodiemp3 @lavender-haze-01

Swiftly proofread, sorry for the obvious typos (I know I always have silly ones but please forgive the ridiculous ones!)

“Y/N?” You startle as Imelda lays her hand against your shoulder, calling your name softly as she crouches close to your ear. “Sorry love,” she apologises quickly. You're not sure if you had dozed off for a moment or if you were just staring blankly at Clíodhna's incubator and had tuned everything out. “I didn't mean to make you jump.” She looks mortified to have frightened you. She crouches down fully, balancing on the balls of her feet, and rests her arms on the arm of the chair you're in. “Has Cillian gone to the loo?” She asks.

You glance back at Clíodhna for a second then give Imelda your full attention, focusing as much as you can on holding a conversation with her. “Um, no,” you shake your head, “I mean, maybe, but he - he went to call his sons, just to let them know what's happened.” You explain. You realise you're not sure how long Cillian's been gone now, so deep was whatever had come over you to take away your awareness of anything outside of keeping your eyes on your daughter. You frown, trying to read Imelda's expression. “What's wrong?” You quiz her.

Imelda takes a slow, deep breath in. “We've increased her oxygen slightly.” She says, and you know by her tone and the slightly sad frown that that isn't a good thing. Not that you need those cues - she'd been fighting against the breathing support before, and now the tube was more important than ever. Your heart thuds too hard in your chest. Imelda wets her lips and continues. “There's been a small spike in her temperature, too.”

You feel your eyes heat up as tears flood in immediately. “So she has…pneumonia?” You ask, “Even with the antibiotics?”

“The consultant is going to give her a full MOT, and listen into her lungs. But it's likely,” Imelda nods her head gently. “We can and we will adjust her antibiotics as needed, and continue to provide her all the support she needs to fight this off.”

You shake your head, “She's so small, she can't…” you purse your lips as your chin shakes uncontrollably. Imelda reaches her hand out and rests it against your shoulder once again. “Give me…odds. Statistics. Something!” You look directly at the young nurse. “She's three pounds, she's too small, she's too young… what are the fucking odds of her being able to fight this off?”

Imelda takes a steady breath in, “Y/N, each baby is different. She's shown her strength, and she is still doing that. Let's wait and see what Doctor O’Mahoney says, okay? When we know what the full details are, we can talk about what steps we take next and how we can help her the best. Doctor O’Mahoney is on her way, okay? And she'll give Clíodhna a head to toe exam and we'll map out a plan for her.” She squeezes against your shoulder then draws her hand back..she grips the arm of the chair as she stands back up to her full height.

“I need to find Cill…” you look back at Clíodhna's tiny, motionless body in the incubator. “I'll fucking kill him if he's out having a fucking…” you screw your eyes closed and cover your face with both hands as you fail to control the body-wracking sobs that seems to have every muscle. Imelda crouches down beside you again and rests her hand on your right thigh.

“I'll send Lucy, the HCA, to see if she can find him, okay? And I'll get you a cuppa and some tissues, okay, love?” She says in a gentle voice, then slowly stands again. “As soon as Doctor O’Mahoney, she'll be over Clíodhna.” You drop your hands and take deep breaths, trying to calm yourself down.

She has a point - you need to know the facts - but she also wouldn't have approached with the concerns she had prior to confirming them with a doctor if she didn't believe you were about to be told your premature baby was fighting an infection now, too. As Imelda walks away you get to your feet, drying your cheeks with your hands as you stand. You dry your palms against the backside of your trousers as you walk closer to Clíodhna's incubator. You draw open the small porthole by her foot and place your hand inside slowly. You wrap your fingers gently around her tiny foot and smooth your thumb up and down the velvety soft pad, rubbing gently against her toes with each swipe upwards. Her skin is warm, and she is a little more pink than she had been when you'd arrived, but she still looks pale, and the disappearance of those little movements of her eyes and hands feels like a theft.

“Come on, tiny girl. Hey? My tiny, tiny girl. Listen to what Daddy said, yeah? Don't stop fighting now. I know it's hard, and I know you probably feel so poorly, but you can't throw the towel in, okay? You haven't met your brothers yet - you haven't met your Granny and Granddad, or your silly Uncle Páidi! And your beautiful aunties, and… and there's so many of Mammy and Daddy's friends who are so excited about you. Daddy's special friend Eileen - she was so happy when we told her about you. She has some stories to tell you about Daddy! And when you're bigger, and it's the right time, I'll tell you about my family and why you'll always be the most important girl and never see them. But your big brothers, Malachy and Aran, they really, really want to meet you soon. You'll love them - they're just your Daddy, and they're so funny and they're sweet, and kind. You need to tell them you don't have a penis!” You choke a sad laugh in your throat. “Daddy wants to take you to Cork - they talk funny down there, they practically sing at you! But your grandparents and your aunts and uncles are wonderful people. They have family dinners, and silly Christmas transitions. Your Daddy, he taught me so much about what it's like to have a good family; you're going to get that.” You whisper, and slowly swipe your thumb over her footpad again. “A good family, Clíodhna. A house filled with love and laughter, and music. And when you're old enough, we'll embarrass the life out of you with how I got pregnant with you. Daddy is one fertile man.” You sniff and shake your head. “There's so many stories, Clíodhna. Your Daddy is a film star - he's a wonderful actor, producer, an amazing spokesman, and writer, and he believes in people, Clíodhna. He's so beautiful. He sees people, for who they are. He believes in me for some reason. And I, little one, I believe you - I do. You're here against the odd, tiny girl, and I know you want to be here. So don't you dare stop kicking and screaming. Okay? I know it's probably hard, and you're tired, and it's so tough. But don't stop, okay? I need you, baby girl.”

You draw back your hand and bring it to your lips, placing a kiss against the pads of your index and middle fingers before placing your hand back inside and touching your kiss to her warm shin. You bring your hand back out and close the porthole back up. You steady yourself with another deep breath and then your head as the double doors swing open down the far end of the room. Cillian steps in, looking a little warm and flustered, with the middle aged HCA, Lucy, a step or two behind him. He looks around a moment and before he can walk towards you he is stopped in his tracks as Imelda approaches him. You stand rooted to the spot - you can't budge and you're not sure why. You watch his face intently as Imelda talks to him, and you clearly read each emotion that flutters over it. He's an open book, in private, at the best of times, but he's even more readable right now. He nods his head, touches his hand against Imelda's arm, and walks towards you with slow and heavy steps. He shakes his head as he halta beside the chairs beside the incubator and sighs heavily and noisily through pursed lips. He's silent for a moment, running his tongue over his back-set lower tooth idily. Anxiety is bubbling under the surface and it'll come out sooner or later, but for now he stims orally and moves his eyes over Clíodhna, then to you. He stills his tongue.

“There was a woman near the, eh..” he waves his hands as he grapples for the words, “The yokes…fuck sake, the doors. At the doors, when I was on the phone with Malachy.” He sniffs. “When I hung up from Mal, she said…” he scoffs, “She said, eh, ‘God bless your wee girl - may He keep her’.” He recounts. “What kinda God puts wee ones under this kinda stress? Eh?” He frowns at you. “What kind of God allows babies to be born too fucking early and then makes them sick? What kind of sick, fucking joke is that?” He shakes his head sharply. He thrusts his hands into the pockets of his jeans and sighs heavily again. He sniffs, and the oral stims begin again. He licks his bottom lip fiercely before assaulting his tooth with the tip of his tongue once again. He licks his lips once against and presses his lips shut firmly. He blinks slowly, and sort of half rolls his eyes in time with another heavy sigh. He wants to cry, but he's skirting around anger to avoid it. “Where's this fucking doctor?” He huffs.

You swallow against a painful lump in your throat. “Imelda said she's on her way.” You mumble, and cough to clear your throat.

“From where? Fucking France?” He snaps, and immediately huffa at himself knowing he's being arsey. He draws his hands free of his pockets and scrubs both palms over his face roughly before dropping his arms back down. He looks at you, looking totally hopeless, and shakes his head with another half roll of his eyes. “She didn't ask to be here, and now she's fighting against her own birth and fucking pneumonia…” he purses his lips tightly. He moves his lips, likes he's got more words to say but he doesn't know how. He huffs another breath and shakes his head again. He's lost, scared, absolutely consumed with anger and sadness, and his comparatively small body doesn't know what to do with all of the energy everything builds up inside of it. If he felt a heavy emotion at home, he might put music on and vacuum, or he would throw on his trainers and shove his earbuds in and go for a run, but here he's stuck with all of those feelings, no outlet, and the inability to do a thing beyond overthinking it all. He closes his eyes for a moment and, when he opens them again, his lashes are wet. He draws his bottom lip in between his teeth for a moment and looks back at you. The glassy blue of his eyes is shining under the dim lights on the ceiling tiles above, and the sadness is intoxicating in the worst way. “It's not fair to her.” His voice catches as he whispers.

You shake your head, and your own eyes blur as your tears restart. “No, I know it's not.” Your voice strangles in your throat.

He holds open his arms - he can't deal with his feelings alone anymore, and co-regulation and his much needed physical intimacy is his next attempt for making himself feel even a little bit better. You grant the hug immediately; you wrap your arms around him, under his arms, and place the flats of your palms against his back as he squeezes his arms tightly around your shoulders. He inhales deeply at the side of your face, and you sigh softly as she squeezes you tightly again. “All the fucking wires and tubes, and fucking…oth-other people touching her, I-I-I…” he stammers.

You shush him gently, “Shhh, I know love.” You tighten your arms, hearing the moment his tearfulness becomes open crying. “She's a fighter, Cill. A little warrior. And so are we. Yeah? We're going to fight it with her.” You sniffle over your own tears. His arms squeeze you once again by way of response. You slide your right hand up and turn your fingers through the waves at the nape of his neck. “Keep hold of your words to me, okay? Whatever happens.”

He nods his head and clears his throat, a macho way of attempting to stop himself from crying. He taps his left hand against your back, his silent end of intimacy, but he doesn't loosen his arms for a moment. You keep holding him. He sighs against your neck and taps his hand against your back again, then loosens his arms. As he lets go, you drop your arms down slowly. You stand face to face, breathing the same air for a second or two. “I love you.” He whispers, barely audible.

You smile sadly, “I love you, too.”

When she finally arrives, Doctor O’Mahoney isn't what you expected, though you're not really sure what it was you were expecting. She's in her forties at least, short and slim, with an angular face and short, auburn hair. She's pretty, with large brown eyes, and despite her surname she doesn't sound even the least bit Irish. Her accent is broadly American, though you wouldn't have a hope at naming a region. She gives amazing eye contact, and while she doesn't speak to you in doctor-speak, she also doesn't dumb things down or presume you're too stupid to catch her drift as she discusses her findings after assessing Clíodhna and reviewing the nursing notes. After washing her hands once she's finished her exam, she approaches you and Cillian - you'd been herded back just far enough that you were slightly in the dark about what was happening without being completely removed from your daughter. She eyes Cillian for a moment, and you know she's placing him in her mind without trying to be unprofessional. She smiles and brings her eyes to you for a second.

“I'm Charlie O’Mahoney. I know you've spoken with the nursing staff about the aspiration that your daughter had this morning.” She says, and looks at you both for a moment for confirmation. You nod as she speaks. “And they explained that a complication of aspirations is that it causes pneumonia?” You nod again, and Cillian inhales his whispered yes. “By the sounds of Clíodhna's left lung, there is some fluid build up there, and her blood work and pyrexia would also corroborate the concerns. She has already been started on antibiotics, and we'll adjust those to better compensate for the change in her presentation.” She explains clearly.

Cillian clears his throat. “What, um, what is the lookout here?” He asks.

“How do you mean?” Doctor O'Mahoney asks him, frowning a little.

“She's fucking tiny,” Cillian gestures his hand towards Clíodhna's incubator behind the doctor. “Pneumonia isn't.” He shrugs, and he's short tempered and quick mouthed. “What's the likelihood she's going to be able to fight this off?”

Doctor O'Mahoney softens her expression, “Premature babies are not predictable, Mister Murphy. I cannot promise you sunshine, nor can I tell you to prepare for the worst. Truly, all we can do is apply all measures we have to best treat her and support her, and hope for the best possible outcome.”

Cillian takes a deep breath and turns his head to you. “Degrees and-and fucking years of school, and I can't get a straight fucking answer about my daughter.” He grumbles towards you, teeth gritted. “I'm going for a fag.” His temper is piqued, solely in fear and anxiety, but he doesn't fire it at you. He touches his hand to your back for a moment before giving the doctor another glare as he stalks away, taking his hoodie with him. You watch him storm away, and you know it's all nervous energy - it's all the feelings he can't work through and the uncertainty he cannot stand - but you don't blame him nor do you feel compelled to offer the doctor an apology on his behalf.

“I appreciate that this is a very tense and upsetting time. A traumatic arrival into the world followed by a frightening setback.” Doctor O'Mahoney outlines your own feelings alarmingly clearly. “We really are doing everything for her, and we will continue to monitor and make any amendments she needs.”

You nod your head, “Thank you.” You say, and you wonder why you've managed to hang onto yourself a lot tighter than Cillian has. Doctor O'Mahoney offers you a small smile before she walks away, and you watch her disappear in the same direction Cillian had. You like her - you're not sure why, but you feel like you can trust her and you rarely feel that for anyone. You move slowly around the chairs and approach Clíodhna's incubator silently. You watch her tiny body for a moment, still not making the little movements you'd delighted in the day before, and wish to God you'd taken photos or videos of those little fingers, of her fluttering eyes. “Listen to me, little one,” you whisper. “Your Daddy can't take much more. I don't think I can either. I can't do Daddy's accent so well, but I know his words. I know his words for you. So come on, leanbh - our little fighter, don't stop fighting now, okay?” You take a deep breath. “He hasn't left you, I promise you. He just needs time. He's scared, and Daddy doesn't do well when he's scared. Too much for his little body to cope with.” You smirk, but you're not amused. “He used to say a baby would change everything and he didn't want that, but as soon as he knew you were coming he was so happy. He wanted you all along, and he wants you even more now. He doesn't want to lose you, Clíodhna. And because he's so scared of that happening, he's going to be absolutely unbearable to be near. But it's because he loves you so, so much and he doesn't know how to help you. He'll come back when he gets a little of himself back again, and he'll be here for you. He'll always be here for you. He's been the best Daddy already and you've only just got here. You've got a whole lifetime ahead to have him right by your side every time you want or need him, and even when you don't. You ever need a cuddle, you'll always get one from your Daddy. He loves cuddles! You want to make your Daddy happy, just give him a big hug - that's the one of the best ways Daddy can tell you he loves you, and when you give Daddy loves like that, it tells him the same.” You frown, and wonder why you're rambling on like this. You wet your lips and swallow against the aching lump in your throat. “Keep strong, Clíodhna, okay? Daddy needs a cuddle.”

.

[nezuswritingdesk]

xavier parenting au

A/n: rounding up the parenting au before all the fics and silly stuff, we got papa xavier and his 2, almost 3 children. (lumi was being a brat and demanded their release so you should thank little lumi) also Xavier's debut post! istg, i have a love-hate relationship with him because he keeps blocking zayne from coming home >:(

Primarily inspired by @tbaluver @starmocha and every xavier girl and boy dad thing I've seen since

Obligatory tag for Aly bc she's the kids godmother: @deusfoundry

cw/tw: family content, fluff, babies! very cute babies, pregnancy

wc: 732 words

Now now, papa xavier huh? This man sleeps more than your the children combined.

Xavier has collected all their plushies from the arcade, each child has a collection of plushies they sleep with.

He tries his best to cook meals for the kids but that didn't turn out good (He's gonna peel fruit from now on becuse cielo told him himself that he shouldn't cook, ever)

Anyways, Xavier is a father of 2 children . Well to put it accurately, 2 almost 3 children.

Cielo is the eldest child. He is 6 years old. His name means sky in Spanish, and you named him.

Looks like you but got Xavier's bright blue eyes and very relaxed personality.

As a baby, he was very quiet and sleepy, with the occasional fuss. Both you and Xavier had to constantly check on him to make sure he was breathing back then (he is don't worry).

When he's awake, he's a lively and smiley child. a little bit shy at first but he's cute

he's a little shit sometimes but that's okay his parents love him

hes a bit of an airhead sometimes

LOVES ALIENS (how do you feel about being part alien Cielo?)

He loves to read his father's comic book collection and sometimes copies the drawings

Reading his father's comic book collection had inspired him to write and draw things.

he loves his baby brother so muchhhh. he adores him since you had told him that he'll be a big brother

he read to altair (his little brother) as a baby

he's classmates with lumi, calebs middle child

he sometimes naps in class lol but is an all rounder

Is Lumi's secret-not so secret crush

Has the BIGGEST, FATTEST, CRUSH on Lumi but hes shy to tell her how he feels (maybe when theyre older)

wants to learn how to fight with a sword to protect his siblings too

meanwhile, his baby brother altair was named by xavier. He is currently 2 years old, thoughts and prayers to your both.

acts a lot like you, looks like xavier

the world's most fuzziest and crying baby

can not be left alone or he'll cry for mommy and daddy or cielo

he's very talkative and emotional

gets jealous when he sees lumi play with his big brother— always tries to sabotage it — well, as best as 2 year old can do

is the reason why you're pregnant, again. with a 3rd child. (hes jealous that his big brother is playing with lumi more than HIM). he basically demanded her into existence.

he's very cute like his brother too ! very respectful and gentle

likes being held

likes people reading to him, especially big brother Cielo

He loves animals! Really or stuffed toy otherwise

As mentioned, there is an upcoming child for Xavier, but it's still in the making.

it's a baby girl

whoops your having another baby again because your husband can't keep his hands off you, and baby altair is jealous that his big brother is playing with a girl instead him

The kids were with auntie Tara or Uncle Caleb and his kids when you got knocked up oopsies (you couldn't remember when because he fucked you STUPID and the sex was so good 10/10)

And now here we are :)

You're 5 months now Goodluck sweets

And this little miss is very active.

adores her father and brothers’ voice and touch

You have a name in mind, keeping how with the starry/constellation names

But for now? She's okay being a growing fetus.

Despite being a hunter, Xavier tries his best to come home uninjured or with injuries he can hide so that the kids won't worry too much.

On his days off, he spends most if not all of his time with the kids: playing, afternoon naps, going outside to enjoy hotpot dinners (cielo is an absolute fan of them), catching plushies, etc.

At the end of the day, he comes home from working, and sees them try their best to stay up, waiting for him. It brings a smile to his face. He puts his sword down, changes his boots into comfortable slippers, picks up Cielo and Altair in each arm and brings them to their beds for the night. After, he would enter your shared room to kiss you and the growing baby a simple goodnight before sleeping with you.

A/N: sigh. all of the introduction posts are done! everyone, please thank xia lumi for forcing me to post xavier and the kids (Shes playing with cielo now) i hope youre enjoying the au so far, feel free to request and ask more about this lovely au! i would love to yap more about the families and the little kids too! hope you like this one!

[thecheshireprincess]

Cat and Mouse

Chishiya x F!Reader x Niragi

Summary: A sexy game of cat and mouse, but how fair is it when there's two cats and just one mouse?

Content Warning: NSFW (18+); porn with some plot, smutty smut, just smut fr, threesome, Chishiya and Niragi are both dominant with reader; Niragi is more dominant with Chishiya, curse words, this is smut in case I didn't mention it

I won't tell anyone what or what not to do, but please interact responsibly ✨️

A/N: I should be put down for this immediately

You had asked for this.

No, you had begged for this. It was all a part of your carefully crafted plan to get both of your boyfriends in bed with you together. To cultivate that final connection to complete your little love triangle.

Because having two handsome, smart, sexy boyfriends was a miraculous thing in such a bleak world, but having the three of you all be together would be next level. Earth shattering, even. You wanted it so much that it hurt. Everyone at The Beach knew that you were Niragi's girl. That kept you safe, ensured that no one looked at you without good reason much less hurt you in any way. They also knew you were Chishiya's girl. That made sure they respected you, that they knew you were smart and cunning to be able to draw emotions from a man like him. Most people referred to you as a throuple, always together, rarely one without the others. What they didn't realize was that while there was a line connecting you to each Niragi and Chishiya, you were missing that third line. The one that connected the men together.

It was there, you knew it. Felt it. But along with their similarities came a deep stubbornness to remain in quiet competition over you that you needed to break. You knew they cared for each other; you saw it in the way Chishiya's eyes softened in worry when his steady hands patched Niragi up after a particularly challenging game. You saw it in the way Niragi's jaw tightened when someone said something snarky in passing about the blonde - "Wanna say that again?" Of course they didn't. And you? You felt partially empty every time you laid down with just one of them at night, having just one of them between your legs, being filled with cum by just one of them. You needed both of them. All the time.

And tonight, you were finally doing something about it. "Hunt me," you'd said seductively to the two of them, "Catch me if you can, and whoever does gets to have me tonight." Chishiya had scoffed, the simplicity of the task you were asking of them hardly worth the effort if it meant that he'd just have you tomorrow night instead. But Niragi's eyes had sparkled in amusement, a predatory grin spreading across his face, "Fuck yes." So similar those men of yours, but so different too. But if Niragi was playing your game, Chishiya would play too and he would win, no matter how frivolous it seemed.

So that is how you found yourself creeping quietly through the thorny brush at the edge of the resort's fencing. You have no plans of getting caught by either of them, no. Your game is slightly more fixed than you'd let on. You're in your skimpiest bikini, the one that neither of them are thrilled about you leaving the room in. They'd both laid eyes on you once already, their pupils dilating to shining black orbs when they had. You plan to keep letting them get just close enough to get excited a few times, then nimbly slipping through their fingers. Waiting for them to get hot, flustered, and irritated. Then they'll come storming back into your room ready to fuck you. And hopefully each other.

Niragi is not difficult to avoid. The man is loud, behavior spontaneous and erratic. Every once in a while he shoots his rifle in the air or at the ground, loving the way adrenaline flows through him at the loud cracks. You want to roll your eyes at his childlike behavior, but right now it is working in your favor. 

Based on the sounds echoing out through the courtyard, you know the man is about to round the corner of the building in search of you. Lucky for you, the strange overgrowth of plants and vines that have been taking over Tokyo have recently extended to this back area of The Beach; coating even the colored gingko trees that stood majestically around the property. Double lucky for you, you are a deft and skilled climber.

Testing one of the vines hanging from a tree to your right, you prepare yourself to swing on it up and away from your boyfriend. But first, you stand enticely with a hand at your hip, twirling the vine playfully in your hand like it could be a whip in another life. Niragi whistles out as he sees you in the courtyard. "Fuck, angel. Wanna show me what you're planning to do with that?" he drawls in a gravelly low tone, the sound traveling straight to your core. You nearly crumble, coming close to waving your metaphorical white flag.

A sweet, playful grin spreads on your face as you let out a chuckle, "Perhaps another time? Looks like I have to go!" You pull back with the vine, getting a running start to swing up into the tree as Niragi reaches to snatch you. He snarls as he barely misses your ankle, and you land gracefully in the neighboring tree. Niragi is not particularly fast, so you are able to deftly move from tree to tree in pursuit of your next destination - the pool. You hear him call out from below, "Just wait until I get my hands on you, angel!" You can't wait.

The crowded pool deck was not a good place to hide from Niragi; his presence made people part like the Red Sea, and especially so if he was looking for you. No, those jerks had no loyalty - they'd hand you straight over to him in a second. It was, however, a fine place to hide from Chishiya. Your shorter blonde boyfriend would never have the patience, nor the height to look for you in a crowd like this.

The flashing strobe lights streak bright colors across your face as you carefully filter your way through the sweaty bodies bumping and grinding against one another. Eyes shift in every direction, searching for his characteristic white hoodie - you need to be on high alert now.

That little performance should be enough to have your boyfriends' pants fitting a little bit tighter, so you sneak away toward the side of the resort that houses your room. You jump up on top of the air conditioning unit to scale the wall, grabbing onto the window ledges to swing yourself up. Luckily, you're only on the third floor, and you stealthily climb back through the unlocked window to your room with ease. Releasing your hair from the ponytail it had been in, you sprawl yourself just so across your cozy bed to wait for your cats to return to you.

Unlike Niragi, Chishiya is like a little ninja; covert and stealthy. You've often considered putting a bell around his neck because of the number of times he's nearly given you a heart attack just appearing beside you. You reach the outdoor bar, pulling yourself up to sit on the granite bar top. Tatta smiles when he sees you, coming over to see what's up. "Tatta! Have you seen Chishiya?" He nods knowingly, eyes focusing behind you but not responding.

"Looking for me, sweetheart? I thought we were looking for you," his monotone voice drawls, approaching the bar from behind you. You squeal in anxious anticipation, thinking you might have let him get a little too close this time.

Tatta, who is decidedly an incredible friend, looks between the two of you rapidly before reaching out to pull you onto his side of the bar. You flash him a dazzling grin of thanks, dropping to the floor and crawling out the open back of the bar. You disappear into the brush once more, but not before hearing the blonde call out to you, "You'll be back on your knees just like that when I catch you!" Fuck yeah, Chishiya, you're in.

You begin to get antsy after about thirty minutes, the anticipation of them finding you building in your chest and pooling in your core. At long last, you can hear Niragi's booming voice berating Chishiya in the hallway, the two of them arguing already about who was closest to winning. Showtime.

The door slams open, both men spilling into the room in irritation. Niragi is already shouting nonsense about how he'd been closest to catching you, so he was the winner; his pent-up frustrations obvious in his jeans. Chishiya is in no better shape and retorts sharply but at a much lower decibel.

"Join me, both of you," you command, patting the spots on the bed on either side of you. "You both found me, and now I want you both to have me. Together," you breathe. Chishiya sucks in a breath, turning away from you and Niragi's face snaps to yours in disbelief. This was not a new conversation; you've tried before to bring them together. Stubborn.

You giggle from the anxiety, "Please, just this once - we'll go slow, I promise. I have to know what it's like to have you both here at the same time. I'm begging." Chishiya chews on his cheek in thought, Niragi glancing in annoyance between the two of you. You can see through both men; they're both horny as hell, and neither are likely to deny you, their princess, something that you want so badly.

Despite their relentless hesitation, both Niragi and Chishiya obey your whims and sit on either side of you. The former glares at you, arms crossed over his chest as he waits; the latter facing away from you toward the window instead. A heavy blanket of lust is spread over the three of you, the tension feeling thick enough to slice through with a knife.

You pull yourself up against the velvety headboard of your bed, crossing your legs underneath you and wrapping your arms around Niragi's neck to drag him into a wrathful kiss. You can feel the quick thump of his pulse in his neck, your kiss quickly turning to all tongue and teeth. His large hands easily slip under your tiny bikini top, thumbs rubbing roughly over pebbling nipples. A salacious moan escapes you as Niragi bites your lower lip, taking the opportunity to lick sensually into your mouth. Your stomach clenches as you notice how Chishiya finally turns towards you in response, obviously wanting to make you moan like that too. Your left arm reaches out to wrap around his neck, pulling him closer.

Your pulse thunders in your chest in anticipation as you pull away from Niragi and lock your spit soaked lips with Chishiya's. He is much more patient in his kisses, taking his time in mapping out every inch of your plush lips with his own. Niragi licks and nips his way up your right arm, pressing the cool metal of his tongue ring against the crook of your neck. The contrast of his warm, wet tongue and the cool metal never fails to leave your head spinning.

Chishiya's dexterous fingers find the waistband of your bikini bottoms, dipping easily underneath to spread your dripping folds for him. He smirks between open-mouthed kisses, "So wet, sweetheart. Desperate for us, hm? Tell us what you want, baby." Your head falls backwards in a needy moan, because fuck yes. This is exactly what you've been waiting for. You nearly wail, "Please, Chishiya!" Niragi halts his ministrations on your neck - where you're certain he's left multiple colorful bruises - to study your desperate face. "Please what, babe? Use your words," he coos almost mockingly. You feel utterly wrecked by the two of them already; both men staring at you expectantly, eyebrows furrowed, and swollen lips parted.

Your pussy clenches around nothing, your arousal blooming more urgently in your belly. "Fuck me with your fingers, baby, pleaaaase," you whine, any shame of telling the men what you wanted dissipating as the burn of your longing courses through you. Chishiya is quick to oblige, slipping two fingers into your cunt, an obscene squelching noise giving away just how turned on you've become in such a short amount of time. A growl rumbles in Niragi's chest, the man pushing your bikini top to the side, taking one of your perky nipples into his mouth and massaging the other between two fingers. His left hand snakes down to join Chishiya near your core, swirling his middle finger on your clit.

Both men feel foggy, heads clouded with desire just listening to your lewd mewls and cries; pride that they have ravaged you like this without even undressing yet. When Chishiya curls his fingers toward your spongey spot, you reward him with a low, broken moan that brings Niragi's attention back up to your face. You have never looked more stunning to him than in this moment, eyes half-lidded and mouth agape as Chishiya works you ever closer to your release. He looks up at the blonde, too, a familiar longing burning in his core. The way the cat-like man looks at you, his angel, as he expertly drives his fingers in and out of your pussy. Niragi realizes that he is so fucked, he does want both of you. More than anything.

Even through your haze of nearing your peak, you see the way Niragi looks now at Chishiya. It's now or never, you decide. One hand comes to gently caress Niragi's face, your left one doing the same to Chishiya, both men maintaining their pace on your core. You press your lips seductively against the former's lips first, moaning at the taste of him on you, before turning your head to the left to capture Chishiya's lips once more. It's now, while both men are watching you hungrily, that you tenderly guide their faces to each other.

Your heart drums in excitement, pressing another chaste kiss to the corner of Chishiya's mouth and then the same to Niragi. After what feels like a century of you waiting with bated breath, the two allow their lips to crash together fervently. Mentally, you squeal and cheer for them. Outwardly, Chishiya is still working you on his fingers, Niragi circling your sweet spot; both men moving more urgently as they lick experimentally into each other's mouths. Your orgasm crashes over you at the sight of your two boyfriends joined together in a passionate kiss, both of them turning back to you to watch their favorite show when you squeal for them.

Niragi's eyes are black as charcoal, grabbing onto your hips to keep you from writhing away from them, "Good fucking girl, baby. Such a good girl when you cum for Chishiya." His praise makes your pussy flutter around Chishiya's fingers, the man groaning as he continues to pump in and out, guiding you gently through your orgasm.

When Chishiya pulls his fingers out of you, your arousal dripping down onto your silky sheets, a wicked idea comes to you. Gripping Chishiya's wrist, you pull his fingers to Niragi's mouth to let him suck your arousal off of him. You groan when Niragi wraps his lips around Chishiya's long digits, maintaining first eye contact with you and then shifting eye contact to the blonde in front of him. Fuck. You see how Chishiya's breath hitches at the intimate contact, clearly surprised by how much he's enjoying it.

You don't think you've ever whined so much in your life. You've certainly never been this turned on, your pussy dripping through your bikini bottoms and soaking the bed under you. Your neighbors absolutely know what's going on in here, and you don't care; you hope they're listening. Niragi releases Chishiya's fingers with a wet pop, grinning down at you. "Now that I've got a little taste, I want the whole thing," he growls, hooking his arms around your thighs and dragging you roughly to the edge of the bed pulling a high pitched yelp from you. He kneels with his torso pressed still against the end of the bed, pulling your soaked through bottoms off and tossing them somewhere in the room. It doesn't matter. You are never wearing that suit out of this room again. The man takes his time, biting and kissing every inch of the soft, supple skin of your inner thighs, making you whimper out in excited anticipation.

Chishiya strokes a thumb over Niragi's swollen marks on your neck, leaning down to claim your lips once more and silence your whining. His warm hands wander to help remove the tiny bikini top still clung to your chest, goosebumps trailing in their wake. Your entire body jolts as Niragi finally licks his tongue up through your folds, his metal piercing catching deliciously against your clit. He hums against you as his tongue cleans up the mess Chishiya made of you - that they made of you -  the vibrations traveling through you like an electric current.

The pleasure of their combined ministrations against your body brings you near the edge of your orgasm once more. Niragi feels how your pussy floods with arousal, talented lips coming to suction around your clit, suckling deeply and slipping two fingers into your wet heat to give you something to squeeze around. He knows his angel needs to have something for her tight hole to cum around.

Chishiya, who was busy sucking marks into your belly and massaging your super sensitive nipples, looks up at your blissed out expression, smirking. "That feel good, sweetheart? You like the way Niragi eats your tight little pussy?"

That filth is all you need to hear, crying out desperately for both men, nearly crushing Niragi's head between your legs as you approach overstimulation. Niragi presses his hands firmly into your thighs, keeping you against him in the aftershocks of your peak. Your hands claw desperately into Chishiya's hair, pulling his head impossibly closer to you to deepen your kiss. His tongue takes the lead against yours, your orgasm washing over you entirely and swallowing you whole.

"Damn, angel. You taste so good, I could lay between your legs all day. Wanna taste?" He asks the man to your left, raising a pierced eyebrow. You think you've died and gone to heaven when Chishiya pulls Niragi's lips to meet his, instantly deepening the kiss to taste your arousal on his tongue. Yep, you knew this would be the hottest encounter on the planet.

You lay beneath the two men completely bare and panting still from two orgasms crashing through your body, watching in awe as Niragi runs his fingers through Chishiya's locks, pulling the blonde closer through them. Chishiya responds earnestly, wrapping his arms around Niragi's neck as their mouths move in tandem. You watch with widened eyes as the blonde enjoys the sensation of Niragi's tongue ring against his own, something you completely understand.

You realize that everyone in bed is overdressed except for you, and sit up to try and change that. You start with Chishiya, unzipping his white jacket the rest of the way to expose his chest and abdomen. The man assists you by shrugging the garment off his body, letting it pool to the floor. Your lips connect like magnets to his neck, running your hands over him as you suck colorful bruises into his porcelain skin.

Your fingers deftly find their way underneath his swim trunks, finally capturing his hard, leaking cock in your hand. A whimper escapes his mouth, only spurring you on further. Niragi watches your movements curiously, his heart hammering against his ribcage. He knew what he wanted, and why would he not take what he wants?

He grips onto your wrist, halting your movements against Chishiya's hardened member. You look at him questioningly, and he presses a kiss to your forehead. "Let me," he says, voice low and gravelly. Both you and Chishiya feel that in your cores, breathily moaning in tandem. Niragi's hand joins yours on Chishiya's cock at first, both of you pumping him as you find a pace that makes the blonde needy in the best way.

Your brain is starting to short circuit, watching your two loves finally coming together in pleasure. Your now empty hands come to work on removing Niragi's belt and unzipping his dark jeans. His cock springs out, hitting his abdomen when you finally release him from the restraint of the material. Your mouth salivates staring at the hardened member, flattening yourself to the bed between the two men to take his cock in your mouth without hesitation. Tongue swirling the tip, you taste the salty sweetness of his pre-cum dripping into your mouth. Chishiya's fingers easily find your clit, rubbing circles in pace with the rest of your motions. For the first time in your relationship with the two, all three of you are finally connected together.

Through heavy pants and delectable moans from all three of you, you decide you don't want to cum again like this. If this will be a one time encounter, you have a different idea.

You sit up, wrapping an arm around each of their necks, pressing a quick kiss to each of their lips. When you pull back to look at them, both are looking at you with a glazed, far away look. You rub a thumb on each of their cheeks, glancing between both of them as you sink your teeth into your bottom lip. Nerves are fluttering in your belly as you prepare to tell them what you want.

Chishiya notices your hesitation, pulling you closer to the two men to provide comfort. His hand comes to your cheek, stroking it gently. You feel Niragi's hand come to rest at your waist, also stroking gentle patterns into your skin.

"Go on, sweetheart. Tell us what you want," Chishiya coos. Niragi nods, "You know we won't say no to you, angel." You let out a shaky breath, heat pooling again in your core at how sweet and generous your lovers are. "It's just, I've waited so long for this, and I really really want to feel you both inside me. Together." Your eyes look down to study the soaked sheets, embarrassed despite all three of you literally being nearly naked together on the bed.

Niragi needs to hear no more, unbuttoning his shirt quickly and letting his jeans pool to the floor. The man lifts you easily with him to carry you to the couch against the wall. "Come on pretty boy, our princess needs us." Chishiya rolls casually off the bed to follow the two of you, allowing his swim trunks to fall to the floor as well.

Niragi sits on the couch, legs spread slightly. You whimper kneeling over him, feeling the blunt tip of his cock tease your entrance, your dripping pussy already soaking his length. "Fuck babe, so wet for us," he growls, wasting no time splitting you open on his hard cock. The man reaches out toward the blonde as you wail in pleasure, pulling him by his hand to join you.

Chishiya moves your hair out of the way to suck on your sweet spot from behind you, bringing one hand around to rub tight circles on your clit as Niragi pounds deep inside your pussy. You feel your body temperature rising, sweat starting to drip down your face, your walls fluttering tightly around his cock. Niragi reaches a hand down to gather your arousal, a ring of white already forming around the base of his cock. His soaked fingers wrap around Chishiya's hardened length to coat him in the slick that they've both pulled from you.

The blonde gasps at his touch, but doesn't shy away. No, it feels amazing having Niragi coat him in your slick. And Niragi? He could get used to the weight of Chishiya's member in his hand. Drooling at the thought of taking it into his mouth.

And you? Have died and gone to heaven.

"P-please Chishiya. Need to feel you too," you whine pathetically. So fucking desperate to have them both inside you. The man hums, still sucking on your neck while also bringing his hand to gather more of your slick, fingers grazing Niragi's balls as you continue bouncing on him. Niragi's pace stutters when Chishiya touches his balls. Holy fuck.

You've never felt so full in your life, Chishiya gently working his way into your other tight channel. Your head falls back on the blonde behind you, face contorting with the pleasure they are giving you. The two men move closer together, joining their lips once more as they find a pace that works for all three of you. Niragi smirks when he feels the way your cunt squeezes around his cock.

You are absolutely cockdrunk for them, head lolled back on Chishiya's shoulder, skin coated in a gorgeous sheen. Their absolute goddess. Niragi can feel his balls tightening, knowing it won't be long before he's filling your tight pussy with his cum. Chishiya is a sight for sore eyes too, eyebrows furrowed and sweat dripping. Your tight little hole squeezes his cock in a way that he's never felt before.

You wail incoherent strings of words to your boyfriends, the pace you've created together is brutal and you aren't going to last. Sweat is dripping from all three of you, desperate to keep moving. "N-niragi . . . C-chishiya . . . s'too much, gonna cum," you stutter, you are so fucking full.

Both men groan in response to your words, cocks throbbing deliciously inside you.

"Me too, angel. Gonna fill you up so well, my baby."

"Fuck, sweetheart. Can't hold it any longer."

Your entire body goes electric, your orgasm exploding through every nerve ending in your body. You're vaguely aware that you're screaming out, but you can't hear it, can't feel it. All you can feel is the blissful tingle of your high, and the incredible warmth blooming through you as your loves fill you to the brim with their cum.

You can just barely hear the men talking around you, your body falling limp against Niragi on the couch. "Good fucking girl, baby. You are such a good girl for us, we're so proud of you angel." You can feel his nails scratching down your back soothingly, your eyes unwillingly falling shut.

After you've all been cleaned up and are dressed for sleep, you lay cradled between the two. "Can we do that again sometime?" You ask hesitantly, unsure if maybe the two would regret what had just happened between you all.

♤ ♡ ◇ ♧

"Are you kidding?" Niragi speaks, "Now that I've had you both, I'm never letting either of you go."

Your triangle was complete, at long last.

[polyjacketpockets]

little jackie hcs

pre-crash canon compliant headcanons

tags: sfw agere, boyre, autism agere, hints of petre, masking, comphet, agere jackie, she/he pronouns, caregiver shauna

tws: mommy issues & implications of addiction

childhood

jacqueline taylor is her mother's doll, trussed up into girlish dresses. growing up, she learnt quickly to bend to her mother's whims with a smile. arguing just made things worse, there was no point, especially when her mother had too many uppers/wine and got hysterical.

going over to the shipmans jackie was always jealous of the amount of freedom shauna's mom gave her. shauna was allowed to wear boys clothes, bring in wriggly worms and she got barely a scolding for drawing scary pictures. it wasn't fair! jackie often told shauna off for acting bad bc someone had to!

jacqueline grew up going to country clubs filled with gossip. every move, every outfit was analysed, beauty and purity was a necessity of being loved. slipping up was a one-way ticket to being an isolated, unloveable creature.

the only time within those country club walls jackie felt like herself was when lottie would come from new york, becoming more frequent when she moved to new jersey for good. lottie knew all the best hiding spots, so they'd hide together and whisper to each other until jacqueline's mother would find them.

the first time jackie showed shauna pictures of her at the country club, shauna laughed and bluntly asked, "were you constipated or something? you look uncomfortable, jax, like in literal pain." jackie would laugh it off like she had no clue what shauna was talking about.

jacqueline never truly had a childhood of her own.

teenhood & agere

the first drop jackie ever had was after her first date with jeff. her body felt wrong throughout the whole date and when she got home her mom asked her all sorts of questions that made her feel itchy. running up the stairs, jackie called shauna immediately blurting out, "mama." embarassment set in, hanging up before shauna could answer and rolling over to cry himself to sleep.

except, shauna didn't let it go, climbing in through her bedroom window later that night. "jax?" she asked, gently. the only answer was a sniffle. shauna wrapped jackie in her arms, filled with questions but not wanting to overwhelm her. "mama's right here," she muttered, a little unsure. it seemed to be the right thing to say, jax's breathing slowed, becoming less frantic.

they didn't talk about it in the morning, jackie refused to, face bright red. but when things got too much, too loud, too bright, too icky, too big, shauna was her first call and she'd come over for an impromptu sleepover, sneaking out in the morning. neither of them really knew exactly what it was, shauna just knew jackie needed it, even if she would never admit it.

it's not like shauna minded, with the start of high school she'd missed her best friend being all hers. slowly, shauna started to learn more (jax didn't speak much, so she picked things up through experience): jax loved fruit, he was a little fruit bat, jax didn't like when the lights were on, jax clawed at the dresses he came in, jax liked her flannels, jax followed shauna around everywhere she went like a puppy, jax liked playing farm games and making animal noises. the biggest thing, was that jax would cry and cry and cry, over anything, all the time, the only thing that calmed him down was shauna's cuddles.

"sometimes i find myself missing jax when jackie is i don't know big? jackie is so uptight, i can't escape how stiff she is now i've seen her free and honest. i just don't understand why jackie won't tell me when she's big, i know the lights affect her, i can tell. why won't she just fucking talk to me? does she think i don't know? i'm not stupid," shauna would write in her journal.

[aquarion135]

A New Poseidon Design - Aquaseidon

I actually created this Poseidon design wayyyy back in 2021 and he has been my PFP ever since then. Y'all can call him Aquaseidon!

Side Profile: Sept 2021 - When creating him, I was inspired by a few other sea-adjacent characters and Poseidon depictions. One of the biggest ones was Davy Jones from Pirates of the Caribbean, especially his beard of tentacles. My idea was rather than a beard, his hair is tentacles. I was also inspired by lionfish for the spines below his fins, giving them that pattern of light and dark that many venomous species often have.

Body: Oct 2021 - This was certainly a work in progress. I had no idea how to draw his face at that angle at the time without it looking completely wrong so I just gave up and finished the body.

April 2024 - I didn't draw him for a while as I improved my art skills in other areas. I mostly spent this time RPing with him on Discord.

Sept 2024 - I love Epic the Musical! Neal Illustrator's Poseidon design still has a chokehold on me. Aquaseidon's not growing any facial hair/tentacles anytime soon though lol

Oct 2024 - Aquaseidon would willingly indulge in Odysseus in the manwhore AU hehe. I initially added the rock in his forehead to help make his forehead not look too big due to his skin and his tentacles matching colors.

So, here is my headcanon for the origin of the rock. After his rebellion against Zeus, Zeus stabbed him in the forehead with his lightning bolt and let him heal just enough to not die. Then, he turned him mortal so that he had to heal the rest of the way slowly. Poseidon was forced to build the walls of Troy as blood trickled down his face from the hole in it, his eyes being blinded by the red. Eventually, the wound did mostly heal over, but a scar remained, in the center of his forehead.

The king of Troy refused to pay him for his work. So, as a petty farewell, he stole the largest stone from the king's treasury and used it to cover the scar from his brother. Now, even after being able to heal his head to be good as new, he keeps the stone there as a way to always remind his brother that he fucking hates him.

So, many centuries later, Odysseus comes along and stabs his own son in the eye, almost exactly the same spot where Zeus had stabbed him all those years ago. He is absolutely triggered, not only by this mortal man hurting his son and then giving a bullshit apology, but also by the fact that his son was hurt in the same way that he was. This is another layer of why he is so ruthless towards Odysseus. No one stood up for him and sought vengeance for him when he was essentially shot in the head by his brother. So, he wanted to do for his son that no one ever did for him. Mic drop

So these are the drawings I've done of Aquaseidon so far! Y'all are more than welcome to draw him if you want!! Just credit me in the post and tag me so I get to see it!

[theokusgallery]

By the way,

pixelnick

JESUS FUCKING CHRIST THIS IS MAYBE THE BEST THING I'VE EVER SEEN IN MY LIFE???? KJSDBFKJSBJKDFBKEHA?????????????

[mcybree]

Ok ok ok I'm not Tryna start discourse but bluestars prophecy was my first ever warriors book and bluestar will always be my favourite so I'm gonna make some counterpoints to you about her being a Smajor character

bluestar has always been led by an intense loyalty and dedication to those she loves and cares for - this includes her mum, her sister, her clan, eventually Firepaw when he joins the clan, and she has a VERY strong moral compass when it comes to doing the right thing - when she sees thistleclaw teaching tigerpaw to hurt a then baby scourge she very much discourages it and is against it

Afaik scott is Not like that, he doesn't have an emotional or love-driven moral code, he does things because they're smart decisions in the long term or because he wants to. Granted I havent seen a ton of his stuff but I have seen his limited life and 3rd life perspectives and he is very much a singular team player there, there to look after himself and well if people align with him that's great he's got allies (jimmy and Martyn) but he won't go out of his way to care for them

Bluestars defiance of starclan in the first series is BECAUSE she gave herself to them and what the warrior code demanded so much - yes she broke clan rules by having kids with crookedstar but she did everything in her power to make sure they'd have a happy life and felt terrible that thrushpelt was willing to say they were his to save her reputation. She didn't do it out of a selfish want, she only ever wanted to help her clan and those she loved, and her becoming clan leader is emblematic of that want. When she rejects starclan so wholeheartedly in the first series it's because THINGS KEEP GOING WRONG WHEN SHES TRIED SO HARD TO STOP THEM FROM DOING THAT - starclan has never cared about the sacrifices she made to keep her loved ones and clan safe, she lost her mother, her sister, her kits, her mate, literally everything, and things STILL KEEP GETTING WORSE. it's not a demand that she deserves to have everything good, it's a cry for help that shouldn't something go right after she's tried so hard???

C!Scott isn't like that. He puts himself above others and inherently believes he will get the best if he just plays his cards right, and he is good at it, he's very competent at lasting a long time in life series and getting what he wants - the ruthlessness of gem driven by desperation kills him in secret life, Martyn's complete fucking about face kills him in limited life, and I'm pretty sure it's etho who gets him out in 3rd life by luck. He doesn't plan to look after the ones he cares about, because he cares about himself first and foremost. Yeah you can argue when he doesn't get what he wants he gets annoyed, but his is less of a 'why don't I get this don't I deserve it' and more of a 'oh fuck this didn't work. Ok new plan double down on getting what I want by appeasing to people cos they're easy to read and therefore account for'

I don't doubt Scott would make a bluestar adjacent character if he made a warrior cats oc BUT his character would honestly be closer to darktail or ashfur than bluestar and that's that on that.

(sorry you activated 13 year old me's unskippable cutscene sjdjsjsjja this isnt meant to be a serious argument I just love bluestar a lot and love talking about her)

OKAY 1. this is fucking awesome thank you 2. i am going to do something new and exciting (advocate for scott instead of beating him to death with sticks) because unfortunately this bluestar info has only made me believe she is a smajor character even more.

As a general note when I talk about smajor characters as a collective here I’m referring to characters more in the realm of esmp/traffic/rats/pirates/etc, less vampire scott or necromancer scott who are intended to be villainous.

Scott characters tend to operate under a “If I am not a Good Person I may as well die” rule, and consequently abide by a strict moral code to keep themselves feeling clean. For instance: traffic Scott will never go back on his word, he will avoid dishonesty, and he won’t take from others unless he is sure that he can repay them. He will never betray his seasonal primary ally (even when they betray him first), and will often give people things just because they asked him nicely. He stakes a lot of his own identity on this, because it is through being a “good person” that he justifies his superiority (and, by extension, his own existence); in his mind he deserves the best and *is* the best because he is such a good person. When things don’t go his way, he thinks he doesn’t deserve it because he has been nothing but good, so he tries to place a reason. He often assumes that somebody must “have a vendetta” against him, even if this somebody is the world (see: him asking if limlife episode 1 boogeyman is some kind of joke played on him for not giving in to the boogey curse in Last Life.) which is very Bluestar to me, convinced that her misfortunes are a divine punishment.

This is all to say that Scott does have a strict moral code and deep sense of loyalty. Being a “good person” and devoted partner in the ways he understands it are so ingrained into what he is that I think he definitely has the capacity to be a Bluestar if he were raised being taught clan values, even if his internal systems are often built around never letting gross emotions be fully felt rather than what those emotions compel him to do.

[princekirijo]

Mordred as a persona is so refreshing for me to draw because while I put a lot of thought into other persona designs with Mordred I just went "big dark half rotten dragon :]" and ran with it

[sixic]

gojo hates condoms ☆

not even in an ‘i can’t feel a thing’ frat-fuck way either. he just wants to be close to you. he’s touch starved as it is and being inside of you is quite literally the closet he can be to you. why would he want a barrier between his achy length and your silken walls?

he hates condoms. hates them like they’re pointing south on his moral compass. hates them like they hurt to use—which they do, in a way—the mental anguish feels real to him, at least. he picks up a fuss in the grocery store when you pull a pack of ribbed condoms from the shelf to try because why would you seek pleasure from artificial ridges when the protruding veins of his cock would feel just as good if not dressed in a condom?

sometimes he eats you out for twice as long as usual to get you really fucked out and dumb. he’ll make you cum hard and fast and so much that your mind is a mess in the hopes that you’ll forget all about your safety precautions and let him feel you from the inside out. but you always catch on. with a tsk and a finger pointed to the draw where he keeps the horrid things out of sight.

so when you let him fuck you raw for the first time, gojo is reeling. it’s on the condition that he promises to pull out, and promise he does—with a pinky finger hooked around yours and his lips to his thumb—he promises to pull out.

he decides on missionary, because as much as he loves the hundred different positions he knows how to wrangle you into, he wants to connect with you. to make love, not fuck.

and even your wetness against his tip is enough to jolt his stomach downwards. collecting your glossing over his angry head as he rubs himself up and down your folds—he would cum just like this if he wasn’t so stuck on feeling all of you. you’re warm and wet and tight as he pushes against your entrance and oh god he’s going to cum already.

“oh,” he stills, eyes deadset on yours as he slides into you. his tip is rubbing against that spot that makes your back arch upwards and it takes everything in you not to laugh at the distraught look on his face as he says “i have to pull out.”

“you’re joking, right?”

“i really wish i was baby,” he looks pained. he’s never felt something so heavenly and ungodly at the same time. he wants to do bad things, to fuck you into the mattress and breed you full of himself until you’re too weak to care about the aftermath of such recklessness. “i can’t pull out.”

“what?” you laugh, his balls tighten at the sound.

“if i move—” satoru has never looked so serious, “—i will cum. this was a bad idea. why would you let me do this?”

“you’re the one always—”

“actually don’t argue with me, you know what it does to me.” he squeezes his eyes shut and focuses on anything other then the way you feel around him. he does math in his head, thinks about the people he’s killed, how much he loves you… how pretty you look right now… growing old with you.

“i swear you’re getting harder inside of—”

“imsorryiloveyoubutpleasebequietorelseyouaregoingtogetpregnant.”

it takes him a minute of mental gymnastics to feel confident enough to start slowly sliding out of you, but all hope dies when the heel of your foot presses against his ass and with a smile made of sin you pull him deeper inside of you.

he opens his mouth to protest, to tell you he is not joking and all that comes out is a beautiful strangled moan that makes you tighten around him. for a man who claims to be the strongest he is rather weak-willed when it comes to your pussy. he needs to cum so hard that it hurts, but a fear of maybe ruining your life and relationship digs his teeth into his bottom lip.

“don’t do this to me,” he whines.

but you’re smiling. you’re so tight and wet and beautiful and everything he’s ever dreamt of having and holding and you’re smiling. “satoru,” you say, and he’s weak. “cum inside.”

anything for you. it’s gorgeous: the way he lets loose, falling forward to press all his weight into you as he groans and his balls release in hot spurts that you can feel painting your insides white. it’s the connection, the intimacy, the tears that prick at his eyes.

and he doesn’t pull out. no, he presses his hips forward to fuck his cum as deep into you as he possibly can and he vows to throw out every condom in the goddamn house.

god he hates condoms.

part 2

[syluss-littlecrow]

size training with sylus

<slyus x fem!reader>

where you’re size training on Sylus’s dick. ❤️

genre/warnings: smut, pwp, big dick!sylus, size training, size kink, dear god sylus and his fat cock, breeding kink, unprotected sex, pet names, dacryphilia, it’s just sylus brain rot ❤️

w/c: 2K

a/n: I’m on Love & Deepspace fic tumblr! 😮 hope I’ll be welcomed nicely here haha. As a peace offering, this is my present to everyone (and especially the Sylus girlies)!

You shift your body slightly, trying to make yourself comfortable, on top of taking slow breaths, your heart fluttering at Sylus's soft voice coaxing you. 

"That's it. Take it slowly, kitten", his voice slow and deep in your ears. But you don't see the way he's shutting his eyes and biting his inner cheek every time you squeeze around him. He's trying to pace his breathing as well, but it feels so fucking good.

You whine softly against his bare chest, his heat radiating off you, his slender fingers stroking your hair slowly, and his other hand drawing soothing circles on your thighs. 

You don’t remember how it started, but your thoughts start to drift, recalling the times your mind would float whenever Sylus had his lips on yours with you straddling on his thick thighs. He would devour you, painfully slowly because he knows that’s what riles you up, and he definitely enjoys listening to your whimpers, your non-verbal pleas for him to do more to you. He’d make sure your lips are wet and messy once he’s done with you, his touches teasing and light against your skin. Sylus secretly wants you to beg for it, because he knows that he’d give in to you in a heartbeat. His fingers would cup yours that were on his chest, and the look he would give you reset all the butterflies in your stomach. You would feel his thick erection, hidden under the thin silk black bathrobe he’d always wear against your clothed pussy, and dear god, he’s so fucking big. But before you could ask, Sylus would trail his fingers to tease your wet clit and pussy, soaking in your adorable reactions he swears is enough to get him off, erasing the question of wanting him to fuck you off your brain when the pleasure from his fingers tingles through your body. 

Sylus doesn’t pride himself as a generous being, but he thinks he’s always generous enough for you. He realises he enjoys having his face in between your legs, making you squirm, listening to you sob when he overstimulates you with his tongue, making sure his tongue presses and grazes fully on your clit while he listens to you fall apart, his crimson eyes locked onto you while he holds you down to take whatever he’s giving you. 

He’s good at distracting you like that whenever you want to bring up the question of fucking. 

This time though? Through your wet lashes from the overstimulation and hazy thoughts, all you were craving for was just to be fucked stupid by Sylus. Your hand reached out and pushed against his head. Sylus pulled back slightly, confused for a moment. 

“What is it, sweetie?” He paused, his hands trailing up and down your thighs. 

Your mind slowly clears, but your pussy is still pulsing from him tongue fucking you.

“Need you to fuck me, Sylus. Please. I don’t think I can take it any longer.”

Sylus is momentarily taken aback by your demand, but he realises he can’t keep holding it off, mostly because there’s only so much longer he’s able to hold back, especially when you’re begging for him like that. 

“I don’t think-“

“I can take it”, you muttered stubbornly, yanking your partner towards you. You shift yourself above him, straddling his thighs, just shy of his appendage. 

As much as your determination is endearing, Sylus knows your comfort should come first. And he knows very well that his cock isn’t gonna fit into you in one go, so he decides to let you gauge it for yourself—putting your hands into the string of his robe, gesturing you to loosen it. 

And you do, your gaze flickering from his cool expression to his silk robe sliding off his body when you untie the string. 

You swallow hard when his cock comes into view—thick, long and heavy, the tip red with a wet sheen of precum. Yeah, that’s definitely not gonna fit in you in one go. You and him solely being just wet enough wasn’t going to cut it. 

Nonetheless, you’re still determined. Your eyes meet his gaze and an idea pops into his head. 

He intertwines his fingers with yours.

“Tell you what, sweetie. I’ll fit into you slowly. Doesn’t matter how much you can take, I just want to make sure you’re comfortable when you’re doing so.”

“But-“

He presses his lips on the back of your hand. 

“I’ll be fine. You trust me, right?”

You nod, watching the way his eyes soften before you. 

So there you are, lying on your side, facing Sylus, your cunt trying to adjust to his cock as he stretches you open. It’s been a couple of days since you’ve been size training with your partner. It started off with getting his cockhead in, and that was already making you hitch your breath. Then inch by inch he sinks into you from then. He’d let you cock warm him like that and it never failed to leave you so full one session after the next. 

It’d been seven days, and you barely pushed through three-quarters of his girth. Initially, Sylus still could tease you while you tried to take his cock, but as he sunk deeper into you after each session, it started getting harder for him to maintain his composure—every twitch, every squeeze—had him digging his fingers into his palm, clenching against his silk pillow and breathing a little harder. 

He huffs once more when he feels you clench around his cock. 

“If you’re gonna keep clenching around me like that, Kitten, I don’t think I’ll be able to handle it.”

You glance up, watching the way Sylus’s platinum hair becoming a tousled mess against the pillow. His crimson eyes cast to meet yours, his lips pulled into a slight frown. 

“I can’t help it”, you reply, suddenly feeling self-conscious. 

You hear Sylus hiss slightly once more when he twitches inside you. 

“Do you think you could fit another inch in?” It almost comes off as a beg. 

You inhale shakily, shifting yourself further downwards, taking another inch of his cock. The both of you gasp at the sensation. 

You freeze at the thickness. How far down are you already?

“You’re almost all the way in, Kitten”, Sylus whispers, almost as if he heard your thoughts. His breathing is growing heavier by the second, and he’s forcing himself to hold back from just thrusting the remainder of his cock in. It’s dangling over him like his favourite prey. 

His thumb strokes against yours, trying to distract you from the pressure on top of pressing your forehead with kisses, singing you soft praises.

Your mind is gradually turning more hazy with Sylus’s cock taking up the majority of your thoughts, on top of his body soap that’s been creeping into your olfactory senses. The more Sylus inches his cock into you, the more he’s pressing onto your g-spot, and the more it’s starting to make you see stars whenever you blink. You’re growing so sensitive that you’re feeling every throb Sylus’s cock is giving you. 

Your hand is on his arm, trying to ground yourself from the slight soreness. Another strained whimper when Sylus pushes him deeper into your pussy. Slick leaks from your pussy and it doesn’t go unnoticed by Sylus. 

Another kiss to your temple, another circle drawing session on your thigh.

“Do you want me to go all the way in?” 

Your toes curl.

“I can take it.”

So Sylus inches his cock right to the hilt, knocking the wind out of you. 

Tears are prickling at the corner of your eyes, but oh god you do feel so good. 

“How are you feeling, sweetie?”

You hiccup softly. “So full.”

He chuckles. “Such a good girl.” The vibrations of his light laughter only press his tip further onto your g-spot, and it’s making your thighs shake from the impending orgasm. 

“D-don’t move so much, Sylus. You’re gonna make me—“ you try to bury your head into his chest but he stops you with his fingers in your chin. 

“Make you what?” 

He intentionally shifts, and his cockhead hits your sensitive spots again, sending fireworks into your eyelids, and a strained moan. Sylus seems to enjoy your reactions, because then he flips you to your back, his large frame looming over you, forcing you to look up at him with your legs folded, and still with his cock in you. 

Oh no. 

Sylus looks down at you with the faintest glint of softness in his eyes before it completely disappears, now just hunger seeping through the red. 

“Sylus!-“ you gasp, his fullness penetrating into you again, this time easily, considering the wet and sopping mess you’ve made around his cock. 

He only hums in reply, then pulling out slightly before he pushes into you again. He’s found your sweet spots, and he’s not letting it go that easily. 

The knot in your stomach pulls tight, and it’s making you tear up in sheer pleasure. You’re barely able to meet Sylus’s eyes, not when he’s fucking into you and has your head thrown back while you’re fighting to keep your eyelids open. 

It builds and builds. Sylus probably realises it from how much you’re just pulsing on his cock. His thumb rests at the corner of your lips and you let him slip in, your glazed out eyes meeting his. It makes his heart flutter when you’re completely undone like this for him, but he’ll never admit it, at least, not yet. 

“Gonna cum. Fuck, it’s so much, Sylus-“ you whimper before your mind completely melts away. 

“Release all you want on me, sweetie. That’s my good girl.”

That’s enough to send you over the edge—your orgasm hitting you like waves, tingling through your body like electricity, the pleasure eating you up over and over again. Sylus watches affectionately while you fall apart on his cock—the way you’re writhing and squirming, the way his name leaves your lips after every moan, the way your pussy creams so much on his cock. He thinks he’s doomed because he never gonna get enough. 

“Looks like a little kitten made a mess”, Sylus teases. He watches the way cream pools at the base of his cock when he pulls out slightly, only to thrust back into you again. His eyes flutter shut at the tight warmth eating him up, groans replacing his words. 

“Now, can I make a mess in you?” 

Your watery eyes meet his, and he’s equally about to lose all composure. You cup his cheeks, taking him by surprise, before giving him a quick peck on the corner of his lips, and then you nod. Said corner of his lips lift in satisfaction at your approval.

He’s just ready to ruin you. 

His strokes become more heavy, the overstimulation shutting your brain off. Nothing but pleasure is surging through your nerves now. You’re even holding up your legs so Sylus can fuck you deeper. 

“Now be a good girl and take all of it”, he mutters huskily, burying his face against the crook of your neck, his eyes snapped shut and his eyebrows furrowed. 

Despite the fact that you don’t get to see the way Sylus’s face contorts in pleasure when his orgasm hits him, his groans right in your ears serve you satisfied for now while thick white spurts into your abused pussy, filling you up all the way, some seeping past your plugged hole. 

You don’t realise how much you’ve clawed down Sylus’s back while he was emptying himself into you. 

Well, he doesn’t need to know anyway. 

Sylus stays above you for a moment, the both of you catching your breaths. He still has the energy to plant more bites on your neck while you stroke his hair. 

He pulls back to look at your face properly, and all you can think of is how fucking good he looks post-fuck—messy, sweaty, and so fucking delicious-looking. His fingers brush away your strands of hair, and his thumb caresses your bottom lip. 

“You’re truly gonna be the death of me, sweetie.”

[k6tzie]

COD P☆RN LINKS | PT. 3

ghost: always so quiet and reserved, seeing you like this is refreshing. so humane having ur guts rearranged after doubting your lieutenants skills! dove, you're so needy. but luckily for you, you have a patient, big bf came back from prices' baby shower now u and si want a baby of ur own, but u can't wait:( doughy ass bouncing on his long cock that no one's sucked in over a year, thankfully now ur here! sharing the captains daughter with soap<3 trusting is hard for him, so once he has you, he doesn't wanna let go warm winter fuck with ur gentle boy price: once you taught olderbf!price how to make hotter videos, he thinks he's so much cooler but that old man lives within him💔i mean look how he's holding the phone! you feel a big, throbbing thing in your tummy, hopefully he doesn't press down on it D: when u took him to meet ur parents, you just looked too good not to fuck afterwards :( as much as he loves his quiet girls, he can't say no to a bubbly one night stand now can he he didn't wanna have to do this but this IS what bad girls get... dadsfriend!price taking you upstairs during the bbq. there's so many people so no one will hopefully notice ur gone... soap: totally something soap would do, fucking you levitating 😭 first time having a crush this intense, taking sneaky photos of you, drawing you in his sketchbook, leaving you little gifts anonymously - now that you gave him a chance, he's too shocked to even do anything! honestly his dream is hot gf x loser guy he's a messy boy who likes his sex quick! so so much cum dripping out, it's like your boys' in heaven filthy gym partner can't keep his hands to himself only one person can eat you this well when you're sick, soap! gaz: your drunk sex was so good, you won't forget it even when you're sober <3 appreciating that pussy with the love and tongue it deserves so wet and tight like ur ex boyfriend did nothing at all smh, must've been tiny deeeeep in ur gfs womb! pretty boy barely ever gets angry, but when price has been on his back the whole week, and now you're giving him attitude - he can't take it anymore! hot belly bulge - who would've thought from the serene, goofy guy? graves: ah, so THAT'S how you passed recruitment i see, interesting... what a baby, never been with a real woman. actually a very soft, sensual man. don't mistake him as rough cuz of how he acts at work lucky shadow of the week gets to record the barracks bunny and graves kept trying to draw milk out of you but he didn't realise not everyone just...lactates :(he can't stop rewatching this video y'all took, how your greedy pussy just swallows his dick whole :o purposely just teasing you so he can see u angry konig: an efficient way to wake up his beautiful baby✨ his cold tongue and your warm socks make an interesting contrast🤔 he caught you masturbating all by yourself and you didn't seem to reach ur full potential :( loser!konig coded, once he finally gets his rough hands on you, it's hard letting a beauty like you go ruined ur cute little panties smh, greedy big boy mean colonel punishing his secret fuck buddy after he found out you've started talking to another person💢 bonus!!: surprise ;)

@xtrrdnrypotato @livingdead-g1rl

[cutiefulism]

that boy is a monster !

cw. smut, wolf!caleb, bunny!reader, unprotected, p i v, brief headlock, knotting, pet names (honey, princess, pipsqueak) caleb is rough, both of them r freaky and crazy for each other, breeding sorta, use of gege n meimei, soft towards the end, uhh caleb cries idk

wc. 2.3k+

a/n. uh this was supposed to be longer but the old draft was js dragging on so here it is! a genius req by lovely anon, i hope i did ur req justice if not pls don't send me to the gulliotines 😓 ALSO yes ik this is ooc for him but also i kinda dgaf. any n all interactions is loved n appreciated!!

wolf!caleb who is nothing like your sweet puppy.

that caleb is kind and gentlemanly, holding you gently and slathering you in soft, adoring kisses and licks. that caleb kisses the very ground you walk on, wags his tail at every praise or gorgeous smile thrown his way, and begs to eat you off the bone.

he puts your pleasure first and foremost, always heeding your instructions when you tell him to slow down or speed up. he lets you come to him first, he lets you put the collar around his neck and tell him to be a “good boy” with red cheeks and bright eyes.

but this caleb, the one that’s pistoning into you from behind, thick bicep and forearm squeezing your head, does absolutely none of that.

“ungh, caleb, s-slow down—”

another protest from you, one he promptly shuts up with a rough snap of his hips and a flex of his arm. your breath catches in your tightening throat, and tears pool in your hazy eyes as your fingers scrabble at the sheets for purchase.

“you’d wanted this, remember?” caleb whispers in your ear, voice ragged and dangerously low. “goin’ on and on about how you wanted to see what changed and why i’m so different.”

admittedly, it was a little agitating.

not that he was irritated with you, per se, but more with your naivety. did you really, honest to god think that caleb was strictly submissive? that he’d always obey you, never think to unlatch the collar from ‘round his throat, never take off the rose-tinted sunglasses and realize that there is so much more?

you are no fool. surely you knew that your weak charade wouldn’t last for long, no?

you’ve been hiding his keys — tucking them into some niche, undiscovered cranny of his own fucking home. when you two go into public and there’s a group of women staring far too long at him, your bright mood sours, and you spend the rest of your vacation with him inside.

(you would hate to know the sort of looks he gets when he goes to the gym.)

you’ve even gotten to the point where you use facial recognition and scan his face while he’s sleeping to go through his phone. just to make sure there isn’t anyone willing to cut his leash and let him run free.

and, y’know, caleb has to applaud you. seriously. if he were any dumber, he might’ve kept those glasses on, might’ve let himself fall so far into you that there was just no way out.

as a matter of fact, he would have.

but he can’t keep you safe that way.

he has to be the one putting a collar around your delicate neck, keeping you within his own, hand-crafted sanctuary and never letting you leave, because you are far too kind.

if caleb ever expressed the want to be free, then you would let him. you would settle for being just friends with him, just being the colonel’s meimei.

and he couldn’t do that, not again. he’s already spent over two decades of his life just being your gege — now that he has you and that you have him, why would he ever allow you to let go?

no. no, he is yours, you are his, and that is something caleb will never, ever let change again.

this is how caleb has always been, underneath that docile facade.

it takes a manipulator to know a manipulator, as they say.

with every brutal thrust of his hips, his heavy balls slap against your puffy clit, drawing a broken whine from your throat and loosening the knot in your gut.

nothing about this should turn you on.

it’s disgusting and taboo and gross, letting caleb fuck you like a cheap, inflatable sex doll. he should be treating you with love and kindness, worshipping every inch of your body and murmuring sweet, reverent praises into your floppy bunny ears.

and he has. caleb has made love to you more times than you can even count — the quiet summer nights in the backyard on a red checker blanket or the early winter mornings where your sweet pussy has kept his cock warm all throughout the night.

you love those. you cherish those.

but you also like when he gets rough, when that sweet, prince charming mask slips just a bit, and his grip on you is a little too tight in public, or he’s staring at you a little too long when the both of you are supposed to be asleep, hands wandering dangerously close to your boy shorts.

that caleb gets your blood pumping, mind racing and pussy throbbing.

“maybe — s-shit — i was never different, pips. maybe i was always like this, always wanting to fuck ya dumb, and you just didn’t know.”

his hot, sweaty chest is pressed against your back, heart pounding in time with yours, and the delicious coolness of his necklace sends a shiver right up your spine.

your abused walls clench down on the veiny girth of his dick, and caleb groans, a loud sound that filters directly into your ear and makes your open mouth water even more.

drool trickles past your swollen lips and out the corners of your mouth, running down your chin and onto the bicep that’s tantalizingly close to cutting off your airflow.

he chuckles and cranes forward a little, enough to lick the spit and tears from one side of your face. “greedy lil’ thing. always bitin’ off more than you can chew, and then runnin’ to me to complain about it.”

it’s funny how some things never change. you used to do the same thing when the two of you were younger, too.

“caleb, can you finish my burger? i don’t want it.”

“caleb, go on the rollercoaster with me? please? it’s scary.”

“caleb, do you have some gold? i lost a bet . .”

caleb, caleb, caleb.

he will never grow tired of you saying his name, whether it be in the throes of pleasure or the depths of despair. if you can say his name, then you’re alive, you’re safe, and that’s all he can want from you.

that’s all he needs.

you, of course, want to protest. even when his bulbous tip is battering against your cervix, you want to defend your dignity. “i-i don’ . . i don’t do that, hah—!”

a pause, and his hips slow, just a little, big, fluffy ears drooping. “. . no?”

he’s moving before you can even manage a quip. caleb leans back, his arm deserting your face before his claws wrap around your ears, yanking them like reins while his other hand digs into the fat of your hip.

the most pathetic of squeaks falls out of that pretty mouth, and caleb grins — which, really, is more him bearing those pearly white canines than actually smiling.

you don’t get the chance to adjust to the stinging pain of him tugging on both your sensitive ears and your scalp before he’s slamming home again and scrambling your thoughts.

“what did i tell ya about lyin’, honey? your gege always knows the truth. ‘m n-not one of your friends you gotta pretend around,” he sneers, an odd mixture of ecstasy and disdain underlying his playful tone. “just be honest wimme and save us both the— o-oh fuck . . the time.”

your eyes hopelessly slide into the back of your skull, and his hold on your ears is the only reason you’re somewhat upright. your thighs tremble, legs practically noodles attached to your torso, and the need to cum again is almost reaching its limit.

you don’t even know how many orgasms it’s been, brain far too scrabbled and focused on caleb to worry about something so trivial. caleb has turned you every which fucking way but loose, making you cum on his clothed thigh, then his fingers, then his mouth, and, most recently, his cock.

a creamy ring of white encircles his swollen base, a beautiful testament to all the work he’s put into claiming your body, and he’s not going to stop until you’re nice and swollen with a pair of twins. or triplets.

bunnies are prone to having lots of kids, and caleb has no doubts about his fertility.

you’d be such a good mama. he knows it.

your hips wriggle back in a weak attempt to meet his, and he coos.

oh, his desperate girl, constantly wanting to milk him dry.

since you want more of his dick so bad, he guesses he has no choice but to indulge you. you just never learn.

caleb tightens his grip on your fluffy ears as his hips smack into the jiggling fat of your ass. there’s barely any pauses between them, a consistent ovation like your body is applauding him for fucking you so good, for treating you so right. “w-where’s that — ngh — smart fuckin’ mouth, princess? huh? haven’t shot a load down y-yer throat yet, so there’s no, mm, excuse why ya can’t talk.”

you swear you try to talk — the sentence forms in your hazy mind and everything — but all that comes out is a long moan, some sort of jumbled praise that has caleb snarling.

he tugs your ears, and more tears pour down your cheeks. “try again.”

“ow, mmngh!”

caleb tuts, and this time you’re prepared for the punishing tug. “third time’s the charm, honey.”

your throat works to swallow down all the saliva that’s pooled into your mouth, lubricating your dry throat. “cum— i w’na cum! ah, fuuckk, ‘m gonna cum, caleb, mmph—”

of course you are.

he’s noticed the trembling in your legs, the constant fluttering of your stretched hole around his shaft, how difficult it is for you to stop moaning long enough to get coherent words out.

and despite the haze in your mind, you know caleb is just as close. no amount of stoicism can hide the tightening of his breeder balls or the slight whine underneath the rugged gruffness in his voice. his pace is sloppy — he isn’t even punishing you by pulling out all the way anymore, just sharp, full thrusts that smooch your cervix and strike your g-spot every time.

“there w-we go, that’s what — ooh, shiiit — i wanna hear from my pretty girl. k-keep talkin’, and we can . . we can cum together, alright?”

he lets go of your ears just to wrangle you onto your back, pushing your knees up to your ears and making them pop. the new position has you feeling all thick, nine inches of your boyfriend’s (and future baby daddy’s) cock like it’s molded itself to your insides, all deep and snug in your tummy.

your hands slide up his arms so that your nails can dig into his back, leaving long, thin red lines like a personal brand. “y’re soo deep, o-oh my god—”

the praise does exactly what you expect it to do, and you hear his tail thump happily against the bed, brows drawing together in pleasure.

“cum with me, caleb. f-fill . . fill me up, breed me, ngh, do w-whatever—”

you don’t have to tell him twice.

it only takes a few more sloppy, frenzied thrusts from caleb to push you both over the edges, a scream of his name and a whimper of yours following after.

you’re squirting, juices spraying all over the sheets and his abs and that almost curly patch of dark hair right above his swelling knot.

it trickles down as caleb literally trembles with the force of his own orgasm, thick, goopy spurts endlessly filling up your empty womb and precious cunt. combined with the fact he’s impossibly deep inside of you, your stomach bulges, just a little, like it’s trying to tease him.

just as cheeky as ever, even unknowingly.

your worn-out body flops back against the soft mattress, and caleb slumps against you, thick arms wrapping around your smaller frame.

he holds you close, chest to chest, heart to heart, as he lathers you in those familiar licks and kisses, the ones that are full with unwavering infatuation and affection.

he knows he’s supposed to be the big bad wolf, but he can’t help but revert back. you deserve princess treatment, because that’s what you are: his princess. his honey, his pipsqueak, his everything.

you are what gets him up in the mornings. you are what guides him home after long, grueling expeditions. you are what he fights for, what he kills for, what he lives for.

you are his northern star, his evangeline.

tears blur his vision, and he tucks his face further into your neck, nuzzling against marked skin as his chest squeezes.

even post-orgasm and in the low, warm light of his bedroom, you can see caleb’s broad shoulders shaking. is he . .

“caleb?” you call, voice raspy but soft, filled to the brim with concern he sometimes thinks he doesn’t deserve. “are you okay? was that too much?”

he immediately shakes his head, and his fur tickles your skin. “i just . . fuck, you’re perfect.”

and caleb doesn’t think those words do you any justice. you’re so much more than perfect, so much more than the human language could ever be capable of describing that it gnaws at him to not be able to express it to you through words.

that’s what his body is for.

he sniffles and pulls back to look at you, big hands holding himself up off of you and glassy sunset eyes locked onto yours. “i . . i love you so much.”

he probably says it more than enough, but he’ll never grow tired of saying it either. finally being able to properly express his love for you through words, and not small actions that you seemingly didn’t ever pick up on is beyond freeing, like someone lifted a boulder off of his back.

you smile, gentle hands coming up to cup that flushed face, and your thumb brushes away the tears that have fallen free from his waterline. “i love you, too.”

til death do we part.

[dontmixpaintinyourcoffee]

This one goes out to all the bitches who love some good Safehouse Era Horror. It's me, I'm bitches. I want Jon and Martin to be fucked up and eldritch but I want them to be fucked up and eldritch and loved

(Notes under the cut because I can't help myself. Heads up, I do go into some detail of how Jon gets injured so I can explain my thought process for how I designed his scars. All canon-typical and fairly clinical in tone.)

Here's how I picture Safehouse Jon!

He doesn't need glasses anymore by this point, so he should just be wearing empty frames, but I drew this before I settled on my glasses headcanons. This drawing looks better with the reflection anyways.

He hasn't gotten a haircut since before his promotion to Head Archivist. He doesn't love the weight of it on his neck, but he also uses it to fidget, and he really doesn't want to go through the whole process of cutting it. He's disliked haircuts since he was a kid (People: Bad. Small talk: Bad. Touching: Bad. Loud sounds: Bad. People talking all at once: Bad) and since his time with the Circus he's only grown more reluctant to go and get it done.

At this length his hair is naturally pretty curly but he is. Not taking care of it. I actually put a lot of effort into trying to make it look brittle and tangled (I have a lot of experience lol, my hair is quite thick and I've always hated taking care of it. Yes I am also projecting my feelings about going to a hairdressers onto him why do you ask.)

The various scars were a bit of a strange task, but anyone who has seen my takes on The Bad Kids knows I'm not averse to selective realism in my fiction. Easiest one was the neck, I always pictured Daisy making a vertical cut based on "through the voice box". The larynx is longer than it is wide, so I think Daisy would go for the method that dealt damage across the largest total surface area. Yes I am aware that I'm speaking the same way Martin does when he explains his corkscrew.

The worm scars were easy because I barely drew any. There are a few marks on his cheek, but they're just surface bites. I picture most of his encounter with Prentiss showing on his legs, particularly on the right side, with enough damage there that he starts using a cane after the incident to keep weight off his right leg. More research to be done on this particular detail.

Finally the burn on his hand from Jude. This was the weirdest one to figure out just because of the nature of the injury. How do you quantify the damage done to an epidermis by a living manifestation of sometimes-boiling wax that can heat and cool at will? I settled on it being a second-degree burn that healed supernaturally fast, containing the damage to the space Jude had direct contact with. He'd probably have some mobility issues there as well. I know there are ways to help with mobility and pain after a severe burn, but I don't know how much of it Jon would actually. Do. Like I said, definitely further research to be done on these last two.

Hey so I'm gonna ask you to stop and consider the horror of the watcher. The helplessness. The guilt. The inherent terror of being a spectator, a participant by proximity but not by action. The horror of not being able to look away, of being a bystander. Jon forgets to blink sometimes. But wouldn't it be so much worse if there were no eyelids at all? That's how I interpret the description of The Archivist being "All Eyes" :D

I love a good Many-Eyed Jon, so I whipped up my own interpretation here. I think the more he Becomes the more he starts to resemble the thing from the dreams. He has a lot more control of it in S5, but it still creeps up on him and he has to consciously go back to a human shape.

[valyvinny]

╰┈➤ ❝ Love and deepspace boys *:･ﾟ✧*: Losing control ❞

PAIRING : Caleb x reader, Sylus x reader, Zayne x reader, Rafayel x reader and Xavier x reader GENRE : Soft smut WORD COUNT : 2.6k TAGS : MDNI 18+ NSFW, kissing, making out, grinding, dry humping, allusions to sex, rafayel is implied to be in heat, back scratching (only is sylus') A/N : PHEWW, I know I said that the next piece of writing may take a while but I also have no self control lol. Though this time I promise its gonna take a hot minute cause final year med school exams are kicking my asssss. Also, I didn't expect my previous piece to do as well as it did. Thank you all so so much for reading it and I hope you enjoy this one :)

The lads boys can't help but lose control around you

╭┈◦•◦❥•◦ Caleb

Caleb is addicted to your lips. It’s almost like he’s making up for the years he’s spent abstaining from you, littering fleeting pecks throughout the day. 

Caleb just can’t seem to help himself. He’d always kiss you hello and goodbye. He’d kiss you good morning and good night. 

He was always so gentle with it, tucking strands of your hair behind your ears before cupping your face in his palms, holding you like you’re made of glass. Afraid that with one wrong move, you’d break. 

He’d take his time to admire your features. Features that he’s cherished and adored his whole life, that he can probably draw out from memory. Your expressive eyes gazing at him in anticipation, the plush of your inviting lips, the dusty pink hue that’s settled on your cheeks.  

You were his entire world and he could only hope you’d be able to feel at least a fraction of what he felt for you and how much he treasured you in the way he kissed you. Soft and tender. Pouring all the passion he could as he moved his lips against yours. 

But perhaps most infuriatingly (not really, you secretly loved it), he’d often kiss you mid conversation. A light peck to stop you in your tracks. It was his trump card, especially when you were scolding him for something. And it worked every time, it always seemed to melt you into a puddle 

“You just look so adorable when you’re talking to me pip-squeak” he’d say, laughing at your display of annoyance. But the fact that you we’re fighting off a smile said you felt otherwise. 

But when he had the time to indulge himself in you, it was an entirely different experience. An entirely different Caleb. The duality of your childhood friend always gave you a whiplash. 

He’s pulling you close to him, savoring the feeling of your body against his. You’re caged against his imposing form and whatever surface he’s crowding you against this time. You’re pinned, completely at the mercy of the man that’s yearning for your touch. 

Caleb kisses you with the hunger of a thousand men. His kisses are feverish, demanding, ravishing every corner of your mouth like it’s the first time. He bites down on the plush of your bottom lip, taking you by surprise. 

“Sorry”, he breathes. But he isn’t really. Not when the sound of your wanton moans sends tingles down his spine. God, how did he get so fucking lucky. Having you here like this, so pliant and needy in his arms is his version of heaven. 

The feeling of you carding your fingers through the strands of his hair, tugging at the roots makes a filthy groan escape from his lips. You’re going to be the death of him. 

You’re impatiently pulling his lips towards you again, and it only spurs him on further, pressing one bruising kiss after another, leaving your lips swollen. All the while his hand is sneaking up your shirt to feel the intoxicating warmth of your body. 

You rarely ever stop him when he gets like this. You know he needs it, needs you. And you want him too. Desperately. So you take a hold of his hand and guide it lower, Caleb’s eyes darkening in response. It’s safe to say that neither of you are going anywhere anytime soon. 

╭┈◦•◦❥•◦ Sylus

Sylus is subtle with his affections, it reflects in his gentle and otherwise discrete mannerisms. 

The silver haired man has made a habit of kissing your hand in greeting.

“My lady”, he’s tease, smirking at the your cheeks tinged pink and your defiant pout. 

Occasionally, he’d press a kiss on the top of your head and interlace his fingers with yours. Other times, he’d wrap your hands around your waist, guiding you through noisy crowds. 

However, behind closed doors, your proximity was a drug to him. 

He’d rarely, if ever, be apart from you and your lips. Once he had you against him on his bed, perched on his lap, you’d be better off clearing your schedule. 

Sylus could spend hours savoring the touch of your lips against his. He’s a sensual kisser. Taking his time to draw out every moan, every whimper he can draw from you. 

He’s slow, concentrating first on your upper, then your lower lip, your mouth moving against his in tandem with a rhythm that comes with practiced ease. He’s thoroughly infatuated with the way you move against him, seeking more of his touch. 

He strokes your cheek with his thumb, before entangling his fingers in your hair, angling your face just right for him to kiss you deeper, while his other hand is wrapped against your waist leaning you against the headboard. 

It’s intoxicating. You’re drowning in the presence of this man, and with each kiss, you only want to sink deeper and deeper. 

His kisses are numbing. Your lips tingling with how much they’re being ravaged by his, but you don’t want it to stop. In fact, you want to break his resolve further. 

So you pull out his shirt that’s tucked neatly in his pants, your hand snaking up his back, feeling the muscles flex underneath your fingertips. 

You rake your nails across his back, the sting making the silver haired male shudder in response, satisfied at his break in composure. 

“You sly minx” he chides, black tendrils of his Evol emerging to bind your wrists over your head, freeing him to continue his offense. 

Each press of his lips steals your breath away, leaving you completely drunk with need, until the only thought consuming you was the man in front of you. 

As the minutes tick by, Sylus is emboldened with a new sense of ferocity and intensity as you find yourself grinding against his thigh, desperate to ease the growing warmth in between your thighs. 

And if you were willing to, he’d be very happy to indulge you, give you everything you want and more. 

╭┈◦•◦❥•◦ Zayne

Zayne is a sensible man. His logical reasoning and quick thinking, even in the most critical situations, is what makes him the most sought after Cardiothoracic Surgeon in Linkon. 

He’s very rarely swayed by his emotions. But that also means he comes off as cold and unfeeling to the people around him. 

Not to you though. Never to you. Zayne is the warmest presence in your life.

In the midst of all his responsibilities, you are his reprieve, a breath of fresh air. When he has you to himself, the doctor throws all sense and reason out the window. You are his ultimate weakness. 

You are his to worship. The need he feels for you is indescribable. It consumes him, swallows him whole, until he starts to let lose any remaining restraint that holds him back from you. 

The way Zayne kisses you can only be described as reverent. He takes his time with you. Worshipping you. 

Kissing featherlight kisses up your jaw, his lips just barely brushing your skin, trailing them to just beneath your ear, before tugging at your earlobe with his teeth. 

You shiver in response, angling yourself towards him, trying to press more of yourself to him in hopes that he will relent. 

But Zayne is in no hurry. Not at all. He wants to watch you unravel under him. Bit my bit until you’re completely pliant. 

He wants to be selfish with you. So he continues his ministrations, peppering kisses down your throat, feeling the vibrations of your hums and huffs with his lips. 

You’re struggling to keep your eyes open now, Zayne’s gentle but lethal movements sending a flush of warmth down your body. You need his lips on yours, you need it like you need air. 

“Please Zayne…kiss me” 

How could he deny you when you begged him so sweetly? 

The sight of you so debauched with just a few simple touches sends Zayne into a frenzy. It pleases him, knowing you want him as much as he wants you. 

So he relents, giving you what you want and kissing your lips, while you sigh in relief. Finally. 

Zayne kisses you with intent. His hands are at your hips, squeezing slightly as he devours the moans that leave your lips.

He moves his hand to touch your face, earning a surprised gasp from you, your eyes shooting open. His fingertips are icy cold. Only then do you notice, there’s frost creeping up his neck and hands. His Evol is responding to you. 

But Zayne pays it no mind, he’d die before ever causing you harm. So he grazes your bottom lip with the tip of his thumb, gazing into your eyes while nodding reassuringly. 

“I’m okay” he’d confirm before he captures your lips again, this time with renewed vigor, determined to finish what he started. 

He’s everywhere all at once, and you find comfort in each other’s kisses, touches and presence. Allowing yourselves to get lost in each other further into the night. 

╭┈◦•◦❥•◦ Xavier

Xavier is a wolf in sheep’s clothing. His unsuspecting and otherwise modest appearance only serves as a facade, concealing his genuine desires. 

While he comes off as quiet and unassuming, the truth is far from it. 

He can’t help himself. You’re his. The hunter wants you next to him at all times, kissing him, touching him, loving him. He wants your undivided attention on him, selfishly so. 

It always starts out so innocent. He’s pulling you into his embrace, kissing the tip of your nose in greeting. 

“Hello my star” he says, as you giggle under his affection. And God his heart clenches at the sound. It’s music to his ears. 

He repeats the action, then tenderly peppering kisses all over your face. Your forehead, the apple of your cheeks, the dip of your chin and the corner of your lips. Over and over again until you’re reduced into a fit of laughter. 

“Xavier, it tickles” you whine, with no real complaint in your tone. 

He ceases his playful gesture, only to wrap his hands around your waist, picking you up and placing you on the dining table with practiced ease. 

You often find yourself in this position. Perched on a surface with Xavier spreading your thighs, finding his rightful place between them. 

He’s burying his face in your neck, brushing his lips against your thrumming pulse. The sound of your breath hitching in response makes Xavier smile against your skin. He’s got you exactly where he wants you. 

“My light, can I please?” He asks, pleading for your permission to spoil you.  

You find it very hard to deny the hunter, especially when you know what usually comes next. And you want it so bad. Want him to come undone and take you for himself. You’ve never stopped him before and you’re most definitely not going to stop him now. 

The breathy ‘please’ that leaves your lips is all the confirmation he needs as he dives to nip at the nape of your neck. Your skin is soft and warm as he swipes his tongue along the line of your pulse. You throw your head back in response, inviting him to take more of you. 

Xavier worries the skin in between his teeth, sucking and tonguing at the spot until he’s satisfied with the dark splotch that blooms in its place. 

He continues a similar onslaught across your collarbone and throat, leaving you hissing at the delicious sting. 

The hunter trails his lips up your throat, finally connecting his lips with yours. He kisses you like a man starved, encouraged by the sight of the dark purple marks he’s left decorating your skin. 

It satisfies a primal part of him, knowing in a way, he’s claimed you for himself. 

He’s greedy for you, and isn’t ashamed to show it. Pressing chaste kisses one after the other, barely giving you a second to catch your breath, swallowing the lustful moans that threaten that leave your lips. 

And as his hand squeezes the fat of your thighs, edging his fingertips higher to the warmth that sits between your legs, you know that you’re not leaving his apartment until you’re absolutely ruined. 

╭┈◦•◦❥•◦ Rafayel

There’s only two things that Rafayel needs to survive in this world. One is his art, the second is you. The merman is needy and he isn’t ashamed to show it. 

Sometimes, it’s difficult to get anything done when the Lemurian is around. He’s practically glued to your side, sneaking kisses to your cheek, wrapping his hand around your waist and nuzzling into the nape of your neck.  

You aren’t complaining though, you find it endearing when he’s all pouty and clingy.

And then there’s Rafayel when there’s an insatiable need growing under his skin that he just can’t seem to itch.   

When he gets like this, you’ve learned to surrender to his mercy. That’s how you find yourself currently perched on his lap. 

His gaze is intense, half lidded eyes staring you down like you’re his prey. He’s breathing heavier than usual, a sheen of sweat coating his skin. 

“Raf, are you okay?” You question worryingly. He’s burning up, you can practically feel the heat emanating from his skin. 

Wordlessly, Rafayel takes a hold of your hand, placing it on his cheek, nuzzling into your palm. It’s not enough though, he’s growing more restless. He needs more of you touching him. 

On instinct, the merman turn his face to bite at the fat of your palm, laving his tongue over the skin. When he hears your breath hitch, he breaks. 

With all semblance of reason now completely disregarded, Rafayel grasps at your neck, pressing your body into his eliminating any space between the two of you. 

His lips are on yours in an instant, and your hands are in his hair, tugging at his waves as he nips and sucks at your lips, bruising them. 

“Y/n…” he groans. His voice dripping with lust, brows knitted as he struggles to catch his breath. 

You look up at the merman. He looks positively ruined. His shirt is in disarray, hair standing up in a hundred different directions, lips swollen. And his eyes, there’s a storm brewing behind them, having darkened considerably. 

You’ve never seen him like this. Rafayel’s always been playful, using his humor as a front to his true feelings, always keeping you at arms length. 

But right now, he feels so raw. Trusting you with his deepest desires as they erupt to the surface. 

Seeing him like this, so open, so vulnerable makes heat pool between your legs. You want him, God no you need him. So you crash your lips onto his with fervor, matching his frenzy with new determination. 

Rafayel is loud. He doesn’t hold back, reacting to every press of lips, every pull of hair, grinding himself against you to relieve at least some of the tension built up in his pants. 

His tongue is swiping at your bottom lip, begging for permission which you grant without hesitation. It’s wet and messy, one hand kneading your thigh, the other playing with the button of your jeans. 

It’s all a well choreographed dance then, motions you’ve been through many times. But somehow this moment feels different, a tangible electricity in the air. You have a feeling the Lemurian isn’t going to let you go until he’s had his fill of you. 

© valyvinny. All right reserved. Do not steal, copy, translate, repost or reupload any of my works. Do not use my work for AI

[slut4thebroken]

size kink

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Jason Todd x reader

Summary | He as a size kink. That’s it lol.

Warnings | Smut, size kink, manhandling, praise, creampie, gaping, cockwarming.

Words | 1k

Notes | 😵‍💫 that fucking comic panel tho

Ao3 link | <3

Masterlist

Kinktober | day 6: manhandling + size kink

Can y’all help me come up with a title😭 I’m literally so exhausted and I just want to pass out but I have to post it within two hours for it to still be day 6 skfhsk

Jason Todd has a huge size kink… He’s so massive that it’s honestly hard not to because there are barely any female body types that aren’t smaller than him. Tall, big, buff— all smaller than him, usually by a lot too. 

Especially you. You’re pretty much the same size as the average woman, but standing next to Jason— he practically dwarfs you. Whenever he holds your hand, you usually end up just holding two of his fingers because it’s more comfortable that way. Even when he places his hand on your thigh, he can completely cover the entire width of it. 

Even though he loves the way it feels to hold you, how easy it is to lift you and manhandle you however he wants… one of his most favorite things is how small your cunt is too. It wasn’t abnormally small— it was proportionate to your body— but compared to his abnormally large cock? Even just compared to his fingers, you could barely take it. 

He always tried to do as much foreplay as possible because, even though he thinks it’s hot when your face scrunches up in pain as you do your best to take him, he doesn’t actually want to hurt you or make it not good for you. So he usually eats you out, slowly working you open on his fingers. He almost always gives you at least one orgasm before even attempting to fit his cock inside you, but even after the time he made you come over and over again for two hours straight, you were still so fucking tight. 

You let out these soft whimpers and sounds of pain that make his cock throb. Sometimes you gasp out and desperately cling to him, trying to ground yourself. He always eases his cock in slowly, holding your hand or cupping your cheek and whispering soft praises into your ear. 

“So good at taking my cock, baby. I’m almost halfway.” You whined and squeezed your eyes shut, focusing on taking deep breaths and relaxing your muscles. Jason couldn’t help but look down between your bodies, watching his cock slowly disappear into your tight heat. “Almost there, princess.” His voice was low and thick with poorly restrained arousal. When he finally bottomed out, you let out a pained whimper and he closed his eyes, trying not to bust his load right then and there. 

“Such a good girl. You’re doing so good, baby.” He murmured tenderly, leaning down to kiss over your neck as his hand snaked down to rub your clit. You usually signaled whenever you were ready for him to start moving and he’d slowly draw his hips back, then push in again at the same pace. 

Sometimes though, he’d stand and hold you in the air, lifting you up and down on his cock, limiting your squirming significantly. Or if you were riding him, he’d grab your hips and move you however fast and hard he wanted— even if you put all your strength into staying seated or moving away, he was always stronger than you. It took practically no effort for him to lift you up and down, fucking you like you were his own personal sex doll. 

While he usually liked being able to kiss you and watch your expression contort in pain as your walls were forced to accommodate his cock, he also liked putting you on your stomach. Sometimes he’d put you on your knees and push your face into the bed, but he liked laying on top of you even more. With his large legs caging in your much smaller ones, it made you even tighter. He loved being able to completely lay on top of you and wrap his arms around you, forcing you to feel every inch of his thick cock going in and out of your pussy. That position always made you feel trapped, but more in an exciting way rather than an anxious way because you knew he’d get off of you in a heartbeat if you told him to. 

“That’s it… Be a good girl and just take it, baby.” He whispered breathily, lips brushing your ear. You let out a choked moan and he moved his hand to squeeze your neck. “You just lay there and let me use my favorite little fleshlight.” Every single time— without fail— your cunt would get impossibly tighter when he talked to you like that. 

Something else he loved; the amount of come he released was proportional to his body as well… Sometimes he liked to paint your pretty face, completely drench you in his seed, but usually he liked filling you up. He liked dragging his hips back until his cock finally dislodged from your tight pussy that was practically trying to suck him in, and watching his come dribble out of your gaping hole, down your puffy folds. 

“Oh, look at you, baby…” He cooed, voice raspy and thick. You whined and squirmed, enjoying the feeling of him filling you up and his seed leaking out of your abused cunt almost as much as he did. 

“Squeeze that little cunt, princess. Try to keep my come inside.” He ordered softly, grabbing your ass and pulling you open to get a perfect view of your holes. He watched them flutter, but even when you tried your hardest, his cock had stretched you out too much for your hole to be able to tighten up again so soon. 

“Poor thing… can’t keep my come in that needy little pussy.” He chuckled, collecting the leaking come on his fingers and pushing it back into your hole. “But that’s okay, baby. I’ll help you…” you let out a choked moan when he forced his cock back in, stretching you once again, “keep you nice and plugged up, huh?” He laid down over you again, but turned so you were both on your sides in a spooning position with his cock still deep in your pussy— It would usually stay there until you fell asleep, but sometimes only until he got worked up enough for round two. 

(I’m still bad at ending one shots lol)