#so forgive me this

[bellwethers]

Tough.

[hinamie]

mentor

[mint-chocolate-rooibos]

who taught her that

[the-phantom-peach]

🗣️ huh?? what do you mean I haven’t posted any Link signing propaganda yet??

[captainfern]

boyfriend’s best friend simon

(18+ smut, fem!reader, infidelity but your boyfriends a cunt if that makes you feel better)

—•—

you don’t know how this happened. you don’t know when this happened. all you know is that it is happening, and you really don’t want it to stop.

simon’s everything that your boyfriend isn’t. has everything that he lacks. communication, understanding, selflessness; commonsense, emotional intelligence, a big cock,

the list goes on, frankly.

but here you are, your bedroom sweltering around you, swimming beneath distorted waves in your vision. convection currents radiating from your conjoined bodies.

simon’s hands were large and calloused on the soft fat of your hips, fingers toying with the taut lines of stretch marks passing onto the thick of your upper thighs. his hands gripped and pulled and moved you against him, slamming you up and down, grinding you against him.

he was leaned up against the headboard of your bed, head cocked back with dark, hungry eyes glued to your body and a coy smirk plastered across his face. the way he looked at you, gazed you, admired you as if you were some kind of prize, had your stomach in knots.

maybe you were a prize. after all, he was balls-deep in his best friend’s girl, and he didn’t have a care in the world. didn’t have a care in the world that his cock had chubbed instantly when she opened the door to let him in an hour ago.

you panted above him, thighs burning, shins pressed into the warm sheets of your bed. you were hesitant to be on top, to perch your body weight across his pelvis. your boyfriend never assured you it’d be okay, just agreed with you and fucked you flat on the mattress. simon was different.

“what? think i can’t handle myself a girl like you, eh?” simon had uttered, looking you up and down. a prize. he was also knuckle-deep in your pussy by this stage, two fingers scissoring you open. “oh, sweet girl, you have no idea.”

and now you were here. straddling simon riley, the formidable ghost that you’d seen only occasionally with your boyfriend. a recluse of a man, a mountain of a man. was always kind, always respectful.

an army dog, a government mutt. always so obedient, and so polite. well-trained and well-mannered. clearly, until he had a pretty bird like you stretched across his lap. a prize.

“yeah, ride this fuckin’ cock, baby,” simon grunted, helping you fuck yourself down onto his cock. his thick, fat cock— a cock that hit you so deep, stretched you so wide, that the joke of ‘is that a gun in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?’ had died on your tongue because, holy fuck,

he could use it. he knew what he was doing. you should have guessed it with the way he spat on your cunt ten minutes into you letting him into your flat; the way he licked the glob of spit from your wet folds and fucked it into you, tongue warm and searching. you also should have guessed when he rubbed at your clit with his thumb while stretching you open on his fingers; the way he moved them at just the right pace to make you come twice in a row. now:

“s’all yours, baby. s’all yours,” he uttered, pushing his hips upwards to meet your downwards movements.

your tits bounced with each of his thrusts, the mattress creaking beneath you. the sheets were bunching, the heat in the room thick and molten. liquid, drowning you.

you gasped, air in your lungs. you were not drowning, just fucking delirious with the way his cockhead knocked up towards the plug of your cervix.

panting, you clutched at his shoulders. broad and muscular. you could feel the difference in texture where skin ended and scar began. a few times, your fingers wandered upwards, and you drew the tips through his hair. once cropped, now grown out. scruffy, rugged,

handsome. sweat beaded on his forehead, turning the lighter strands dark, sticking to his skin. between the filth he spewed from his mouth, you could hear him grunting and moaning. you wished he’d moan louder. maybe once he stopped talking it’d be different. but you weren’t sure how soon that would be.

“fuckin’— look at the fuckin’ state of you. such a pretty girl. such a pretty— fuckin’— girl,” simon groaned, thrusting up into you. the force made you hiccup around a long moan. simon smiled, triumphant. “look like a dream takin’ all o’ my cock, sweetheart. perfect little pussy letting me stretch her open, huh?”

“simon,” you moaned, and that wasn’t the first time you’d said his name tonight. but he acted as though it was.

a dog with a bone, simon flashed a wicked grin, canines showing, and redoubled his efforts in pushing his cock in and out of you, rutting against your body.

“yeah, baby, i’m here. your simon’s righttttt here,” he said, grinning, as he took one of his large hands and placed it over the mound of your belly, pressing gently and squeezing you there. he couldn’t actually feel his cock inside you, but the added sensation knocked an airy moan from your chest, your eyes rolling. simon hummed, pleased as he fucked you. “‘m reaching so far, aren’t i? so deep. bet your lad couldn’t reach up here, could he?”

you whimpered, and you wanted to whimper a ‘noooo’ but it died in transit. instead, you whimpered, like a wounded dog, as his cock hit that perfect spot inside you. it made you want to scream.

you continued to bounce against him, his thighs pressed close to yours. he fondled you, squeezed your hips while you both worked each other towards release.

“simon,” you pleaded, breathless. “oh, fuck—”

simon wanted so badly to beam with pride. but he resisted, cocking his head and watching the way your greedy cunt sucked his cock in with wet squelches at each upward thrust.

“you feeling good, sweet girl?” he asked, tone warm and honey-sweet. well-trained. then, “this cock making you feel good? he followed with an obvious lilt. mutt.

you replied with a yes, that trailed off into a high-pitched moan when simon’s thumb found your swollen clit, rubbing against it and beginning to draw small, tight circles.

“thaaat’s it, baby. sing for me.”

“siiimon,” you mewled, body tiring but stomach growing tight. bubbling hot, molten like the atmosphere of your bedroom. the knot in the base pulling tighter and tighter with each nudge of his cock against your g-spot.

your cunt was soaked around him, dripping out onto his pelvis and onto your bedsheets. making a mess.

tight, velveteen walls clutched at his cock as your climax built. gripping tight, holding him against you, keeping him with you. wet and warm and the closest to heaven a non-religious man like simon’ll ever come close to.

“beautiful,” he suddenly whispered, eyes on your face now. “beautiful girl.”

well-trained. damn, your boyfriend wasn’t even close to being this well-trained. he was more used to chewing you up like a toy, and heading off to do god knows what once he’d finished. once he’d satisfied himself.

you weren’t a toy for simon. just a prize. much different than a toy, for your information.

a toy is something you play with. a prize is something treasure. savour. and with the way simon revelled at the silky feel of your pussy against his bare cock, he intended to savour you forever.

“you wanna come?” he asked softly, but you knew the soft tone wasn’t going to last. not with the way his eyes glinted, his soft abs flexed, and his mouth curved at the corners. “can feel this pussy startin’ to make a fuss. so desperate for it, isn’t she?”

personifying your pussy. a new one, but one you weren’t entirely afraid of.

so you answered. “yes. simon, please—“

simon quickened his pace, thrusting deeper. your flesh rippled, thighs and stomach and tits moving with the sheer force of his movements. he grunted and panted, eyes drooping, fingers tight in your hips, chasing his own high too. he still had a hard-working finger drawing sharp shapes across your puffy clit.

“go on then. come all over my cock, sweet girl. show me what i’ve been missing out on.”

the tension in your body grew and grew, sweat accumulating across your skin. shiny, dewy, completely ethereal, you hurtled towards release with wind in your sails. sweating, hot, on the brink of overstimulation, you let your mind go fuzzy. you had a heartbeat in your clit. you could feel the stickiness of your inner-thighs. you could hear simon,

“come for me, baby.”

the coil snapped as if on cue. maybe you were the well-trained dog in need of a new collar.

your release rocked you off balance, and you slumped forward, ready for simon to catch you. he did, of course, leaning you against his chest as your body shook, twitched, jerked with the force of your orgasm. it travelled through you like electric shocks. an electrical current that fizzled out after a few long seconds, and left you boneless against simon’s chest.

he was close behind you, his balls drawing tight, tip leaking inside you, flared head now ruddy and red.

he moaned. “god, baby. feel so good around me.” a speechless moment, filled only with pants and— moans. simon moaned loudly, eyes snapping shut as his orgasm quivered inside him. bees trapped in a glass jar.

“just needed a proper cock to split you open,” he said suddenly, voice deep and rich. “pretty girl like you needs a big cock to keep her happy.”

rutting, in and out. desperate mutt. canines flashing, grip tightening, moans increasing. military stamina you hoped wouldn’t last all night. a working dog, too, this man. god, what a man. not perfect (you wouldn’t want him to be), but pretty fuckin’ close right about now.

“simon,” you whined, desperate.

he groaned deeply. “oh yeah, fuck, that’s it, baby. say my name— yeah, say my name when i come inside you.”

“simon…”

“that’s it, baby. that’s it. fuck, m’so close. m’so close, baby, keep going.”

“simon, please—!”

“mhm, thaaat’s it, fuck,” simon moaned, then shoved his cock as far in as it’d go (making you gasp and choke on a loud moan) and then came inside you.

you felt the heat. more heat, more liquid fire. molten. lava. you were drowning again.

he filled you, cum painting your insides as he moaned out your name, whining as his head flopped backwards, his large hands keeping you firmly in place.

then, everything stilled. your heartbeat clanged loudly in your ears, heavy in your rib cage. your puffy clit beat in tandem with it, and your hole fluttered around his cock, now still and plugging his release inside you.

for the briefest moment, as you lay against simon’s chest in the warm, sex-laden air of your bedroom, you thought of your boyfriend. the man you should’ve been doing all of this with.

but the thought was merely a linger. it flitted away, brushed aside by simon’s lips, that came to rest against your tacky forehead. he peppered a few kisses there, rubbing your hips, arse and back soothingly as you fizzled down.

“pretty girl…” simon whispered softly, hugging you to him. “my pretty girl.”

his prize.

he always thought his mate was a bit of a prick, anyway.

[notherpuppet]

What a joy it is to be a Lucifer and Alastor fan! 🥰♥️📻🍎

[u3pxx]

sorry everyone im back on my shitpost elysium bullshit

from this one sorry i read the word swing and blacked out

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Soup solves everything.

[forsworned]

Simon has an OnlyFans. It wasn't something he necessarily kept a secret, but it wasn't something he shouted out on the rooftops for all to hear. Just the primal need for being seen while he fisted at his cock in various poses, most of which were requested by you. You who were an avid fan of his.

You really didn't remember how you found him. Maybe you were just absentmindedly scouring the internet for anything to turn you on while you were in the middle of a solo sesh, but either way, you stumbled upon his page. You wasted no time subscribing to the skull-masked man who humbly accepted your request to use a cock ring with a little ghost charm hanging at the end of it.

And his moans—don't even get me started. They're deep, guttural, sexy, and caveman-like and you're creaming at just the mere sound of it.

Truthfully, Simon doesn't even need the money. His price range only goes as high as $5, and for his VIPs, you get exclusive access to all his behind-the-scenes features, one of which includes all the times he mistakenly shoots his cum at his chin.

But it comes off as a shocker to you when its' one of those nights where no matter how many times you make yourself cum, it's not enough. You crave him. Crave to see the way those half-lidded onyx eyes stare down at the camera as he gets off between missions for a quickie.

It's enticing. He's fully clad in his uniform, but his hard, girthy horse cock is out for display. Green veins pulsate against his porcelain skin at his touch and you're squirming at the vibrating wand you place on your clit.

Ping!

Your in-app message notification pop up and you notice the small badge on the messages icon. Thinking it was merely something promotional, you ignore it, but a second ping disrupts your solo love-making session that has you squinting down at your phone.

Curiously, you tapped on the little envelope, tilting your head at the message before tapping on it again.

TacticalHeat: Hey, lovie. How are you doing? I see you've been enjoying my content for some time now. Would you be interested in a private call?xx

Your heart thrums against your chest as your jaw drops to the floor. There was no fuckin' way this was real. It had to be some chatbot or some sort of impersonator, but sure enough you click on the icon and it leads you straight back to the page you were just rubbin one out to.

"Fuck!" You breathe out, throwing your head back as your orgasm spills out of you. You hadn't even noticed the wand still buzzing against your sopping wet pussy, but it leaves you heaving and ready for the next round.

Your fingers hover over your keyboard and you search your mind to say something. It's not like you had a picture on your profile, nor your name, or even a real description on your bio. It was merely a clipart of Snoopy with headphones on bumping to music, a practical choice.

You: I'm good! I can do maybe tomorrow night?"

For some Godforsaken reason, you didn't want to seem to eager, but for what? You literally were messaging on fucking OnlyFans.

Ping!

Your heart drops to your ass at swiftness and the contents of the message.

TacticalHeat: How about now instead?

Part two is here!! 😜

masterlist

[sketchy-scribs-n-doods]

the four horsemen of Queer Agony

[teddybeartoji]

18+ mdni; fem!reader

knight!suguru is more than glad to drop to his knees for his beloved princess.

his rough hands bunch up the skirt of your dress with haste, his pruple eyes blown wide with lust as you try to grab onto his shoulders for support. your knees feel weak, your body shaking with a mixture of excitement and pure adrenaline – this is improper, you shouldn't be doing this.

but oh, how good does it feel.

how good the knight's fingers feel as they dance on your skin, the tips of them ghosting over the soft material of your soaking undergarments. with his face hidden under your skirt, you can only imagine the hungry look he's wearing as they prepare to eat their heart out after a long, tiring day.

you rest against a bookshelf in the dark library, letting the wooden planks press into your upper back, into your soft skin. candlelight flickers across your flustered face, it being the only audience you could ever possibly allow.

what you're doing is risky, it's dangerous – but neither of you can fight the need any longer.

a quiet gasp echoes through the empty library when suguru presses a gentle kiss your core, his fingers tugging on your underwear. he can feel your legs tremble, he can feel the goosebumps on your skin; just like you imagine his expression, suguru does the same – how dark and low your eyes would be, how swollen your pretty lips. he'll get to see it all later, the masterpiece that is your blissed out face after he're done devouring you.

as his tongue lays flat against your needy cunt, the room gets flooded with hushed mewls; taking a hand from suguru's shoulder, you slot it in front of your mouth but the palm does very little to contain the sounds of pleasure that suffocate you. alongside with those, the noises that emit from under your skirt - your body feels as if its on fire.

suguru's hands knead your thighs – the very same hands that have killed, that have taken lives, are now caressing your skin with the utmost care and tenderness the knight could ever possibly muster up. this is his job afterall – to take care and to proctect, in every way imaginable; whether it's him on his knees as they get a taste of the woman they have swore to protect, or it's him dying at the end of a blade for the woman they love – it's the suguru's desire to serve.

he sucks on your clit, he tongues at your folds, drowning in your scent as he pushes you closer to your high with his skilled mouth. your nails dig into his shoulder, with most of your weight now leant against him as your body threatens to go limp, your brain turning into a mush. cries of suguru's name fall from your lips like a waterfall, with the letters coated with sickly sweet honey that reel him deeper and deeper into her core.

the obscene sounds grow louder by the second with suguru now lapping at your cunt like a starved dog, his good manners long forgotten in his clouded mind. there's a whine on the tip of your tongue, a shy and embarrassed one, but suguru doesn't falter even a bit – instead, he moves to raise your thigh up onto his shoulder, the new angle making your eyes roll back into your head with a loud gasp.

with the other hand, suguru guides you to grind against his face, his nose catching your clit with every roll of your hips and all it takes for you to finally let go, is to hear your beloved knight moan into your sopping cunt.

the back of your head meets the wall behind you with a soft thud and your eyes screw themselves shut as your whole body tenses up; you try to close your legs by pressing your thigh into the suguru's face but it's of no use because he simply digs his fingers deeper into your plush flesh and forces them apart again, so he can keep burying his tongue inside you. suguru can't let any of it go to waste – not the moment, not the saccharine slick that fills his mouth.

you clutch onto your knight as he let you ride out the high, your mumbles of 'thank you's' not going unheard in his keen ears.

before he pull away, suguru places one last kiss to your clit, gentlly as ever; his calloused hands glide over your calves and thighs when he places your leg down onto the wooden floor. with his finger hooked under the material of your underwear, he tugs them down instead of up and taps on your foot for you to raise it.

finally poking his head out from under the skirt, both of you need a moment to collect yourselves; completely disheveled, sweaty and fucked out, panting and heaving – your eyes are still heavy with a flicker of something tender inside them.

you watch the knight pocket the ruined undergarments with a kind of sly grin.

for later.

suguru stays there down on his knees, staring up at you like you're the one that hung the stars in the sky. in his head, you did.

when you try to shove his face to escape the wave of embarrassment that's creeping up your throat but when your fingers meet the slick that's covering the entirety of suguru's lower half of his face, you can't help but cringe at yourself.

and suguru falls for you more. deeper, harder.

"can— can i kiss you?"

your words are but a mere whisper, afraid to see the light, but suguru welcomes them with open arms nonetheless. the corners of his lips tug upward, his hands itching to hold her.

"of course, sweetheart."

you hold each other's gaze as he stands, the rhythm of your chests rising and falling matching in pace.

delicate fingers play with the material of suguru's shirt, a certain nervousness flowing through you despite the fact that you've done this many times before. but you always get like this – a bit shy, a bit timid, wishing to nuzzle your face into the his chest to hide from his fond eyes, the attention suddenly too much. it's the effect he has on you. but you still wants the kiss, you still want the love.

so you push through.

suguru's hand raises to his mouth, his eyebrow quirks up when he sees your eyes grow wider. "don't you want me to wipe it off?"

burns, it burns.

your skin burns.

"no..."

and it burns even stronger, even brighter, at the sight of his wolfish grin, shis sharp canines glinting at you inthe soft candlelight.

"no?"

a tease.

a shake of your head.

a searing kiss. a touch of love.

[mirpkechi]

this is me btw . . . me when online frienfds . . . me when close mutuals . . . me talking to the silly people in my phone . . .

[hinamie]

post-graduation trip airport looks

[la-pheacienne]

I'm reading the lord of the rings and I'm once again amazed at how... good most characters are. Like, they are genuinely good people. They are a bunch of kindhearted, gracious, caring people, coming together under adverse circumstances and trying to figure things out and find a solution and support each other through it all. Like Frodo and Sam meet Faramir and Faramir is a bit suspicious at first and kind of implies Frodo may be a spy, and then when he hears his story and he's like Frodo, I pressed you so hard at first. Forgive me! It was unwise in such an hour and place. And this blows.my.mind. He wasn't even particularly mean or threatening to him in the beginning, he's just such a kind, considerate man, recognizing the kindness and honesty of another man. And they're all like that. Even Gollum starts slowly changing (for a short while) when he encounters Frodo because that's the thing about kindness and humility and grace, they are contagious. They transform people, even a creature like Gollum cannot be immune to that. Like, you may consider all this simple and basic and I get it but, hear me out. It is quite rare to see that in modern media and it is also pretty difficult to pull off in a way that is not corny and simplistic. It is mind blowing that you actually don't have to present the entire palette of human cruelty and vice in order to tell a compelling story, contrary to popular belief. Lotr does the exact opposite, and it is just beautiful and it warms my heart. Especially taking into consideration tolkien's pretty grim growing-up experience, him being a double orphan without a home, raised between an orphanage and a priest and having no family apart from his brother and then the war and then he almost dies and then he's poor as hell and then a second war and it all makes sense somehow. He writes to his wife who is also an orphan two days before the marriage "the next few years will bring us joy and content and love and sweetness such as could not be if we hadn't first been two homeless children and had found one another after long waiting" and, yes, yes! The love and sweetness just radiate from his work, the entire lotr series is a little radiant bubble of hope and love and grace that he imagined in his head to deal with a dismal reality and then he just gave that to the world, and isn't that what imagination and art is all about after all?

[the-phantom-peach]

a handful of miscellaneous domestic zelink for my the soul 💘

[anna-scribbles]

vive la résistance and happy halloween!