#strok

[thefandomprojectsofsevenparrish]

The daily comic #9:

Oven >:]

[triglycercule]

so the dust smokes headcanon is really popular!!! i have an addition to it :33 cigarette smoke CLINGS to your body for a loooong loooong time,,,,, i don't know if monster dust has a smell but if it does maybe the cigarette smoke from his cigarettes could be used to cover up that smell so he doesn't have to deal with the scent of death all the time and yk,,,, feel the guilt :33

[princessofghosts-posts]

We all know that Nico can raise the death and the ghosts,and today my brain was thinking if he ever invoked a ghost of someone that knew him before the Lotus.

We are talking about friends,classmates (elementary school) and neighbors that he had during the '40,with also the starting of the war and the Holocaust in between. And image being in their shoes,the guy that usually played with you outside of school,that lived in that pretty big house with his mother and sister,disappear one day and the next time you see him,he look like 12 even after almost 70 years passed and he's your new king.

"Riccardo isn't that the rich guy that we went to school with? The guy that usually draw during lessons and that disappeared that Friday evening?"

"You mean...Nico di angelo right? I'm pretty sure he got taken,since his dad wasn't italian and you know how nazys felt about mixed nationality."

"He is literally there??? He is calling out souls like it's his job??"

"Now,Gerardo,this is crazy. That's a 12 years old kid. Form what I understood,he is the son of our lord. The new Ghost King after the other one. Di angelo pretty sure is like us right now,or during the last years of his life if the nazys didn't took him. It's been 70 years after all."

"I'm pretty sure that's him,tho. He is the same! Look! It's literally him!"

"I already told you that it's impo-God it's him!"

"I told you so!"

"H O W ?!"

"I have no idea!"

And Nico is having war flashbacks of his childhood because fuck,he knew them before and they were friends. I can just image the conversation they could have if Nico recognizes them.

"Alright,alright. Let's get moving that I don't have all day,the nexts in line are....Riccardo Valdi?...Gerardo Ranieri? As in the same people I went to school with? The ones I played tag with?....Ok dad this wasn't part of the job,what the fuck-"

"We had the same reaction not gonna lie-"

"Shut up Gerardo. I remember what you did to my ice cream back in the days"

"It was only one time thing!"

It's hilarious and probably heartbreaking (for Nico) at the same time.

[purplebehittindifferent]

32/60 (halfway there!!!!!)

Careful kids- any sudden movements might scare the poor creature- the zookeepers say she hasn’t moved in 7 hours-

Hnnnnnnggggghhhh … I might need a break tommorow :,)

Reconnecting progress update

4/61

It took me three days to just add the text and speech bubbles :,)

[hahnsplatinum]

Getting into an anime fandom directly after (who am i kidding, its simultaneous bc the pale has trapped me here) being into disco elysium is fucking whiplash. Why are we hyper uke-fying these grown men? Why is everyone hairless and unironically blushing virgins?? They can be muscular and sweaty AND still wear the maid dress you COWARDS!!1!1

[robocops-a-christ-allegory]

I literally have the vigilante poll that I made myself as a gauge for how much people care about the non-Adrian and non-Greg vigilantes but I keep being like well maybe people would like to buy some Pat stickers....maybe I should make some Patricia’s just in case....

[itsalittleaud]

i love artists

I Will Be Sure When I No Longer Remember Myself

Personal piece <3

[nursaxis123]

Brain Strok Treatment Hospital in Gurgaon

Welcome to Neuraxis Hospital, the premier destination for brain stroke treatment in Gurgaon. At Neuraxis, we understand the urgency and complexity of stroke cases, which is why our team of experienced neurologists and neurosurgeons is dedicated to providing comprehensive care tailored to each patient's needs.

Our state-of-the-art facility is equipped with advanced technology and cutting-edge treatment modalities to ensure the best possible outcomes for our patients. From prompt diagnosis using advanced imaging techniques to personalized treatment plans including thrombolytic therapy, endovascular procedures, and rehabilitation services, we offer a holistic approach to stroke care.

At Neuraxis, we prioritize patient well-being and strive to minimize the long-term impact of stroke through timely intervention and expert management. Our commitment to excellence has earned us a reputation as a trusted brain stroke treatment hospital in Gurgaon, serving patients with compassion, skill, and dedication. When it comes to stroke care, trust Neuraxis Hospital for exceptional treatment and support.

[dakrapatops]

i am so tired.........this mronign i woke up rlly late and missedhalf of my printmaking................... fucked up and evil also that reminds me my english teacher has banned the word evil in our essays which is evil of him

you should write an essay thats just the word evil but its written in morse and its a rickroll like this:

.-- . .----. .-. . / -. --- / … - .-. .- -. --. . .-. … / - --- / .-.. --- …- .

evil e v i l e v i l evil evil e v i l e v i l e v i l e v i l evil evil e v i l evil evil / e v i l evil e v i l e v i l e v i l / evil evil evil e v i l evil e v i l evil evil e v i l e v i l evil e v i l e v i l evil evil evil e v i l evil evil evil evil / e v i l e v i l e v i l e v i l / evil e v i l evil evil e v i l e v i l e v i l evil evil evil e v i l evil

[blueberrisdove-sideblog]

࣪ ִֶָ☾ ˎˊ˗. 🎀 TITS, ASS OR THIGHS ?!

If MYDEI had to choose, it would be tits—without hesitation. There’s something utterly mesmerizing about them, the way they fill his hands, soft and warm, pliant beneath his touch. He loves the way they press against his chest when he pulls you close, how they spill over his fingers when he grips them just right. But most of all, he loves watching them move—how they bounce with every sharp thrust, how they respond to his touch, how they look when you're riding him, lost in pleasure. It’s enough to drive him mad, enough to make him want to ruin you completely.

His hands are greedy, rough yet worshipful as they mold around your softness, squeezing just enough to make you gasp. He revels in the way your body reacts to him—how your breath stutters when his thumbs graze over your nipples, how you arch into his touch, offering yourself up without hesitation. There’s a thrill in knowing he can take and take, that he can be as relentless as he pleases, and you’ll still crave more. Mydei doesn’t just touch; he claims, his fingers pressing into supple flesh as if to carve his presence into your very skin.

And right now, he wants to see them bounce. His grip tightens on your hips before he drags you down onto him, forcing you to take him all at once. A sharp gasp leaves your lips, but he doesn’t give you time to adjust. He sets the pace himself, guiding you with strong hands, making you move just the way he wants. Slow at first—just to tease, just to hear that sweet little whimper you try to bite back—but soon, his patience wears thin. The way you bounce with every motion, the way your tits rise and fall with each sharp thrust—it’s hypnotic, addictive, and he can’t hold back. His fingers dig deeper, possessive, almost bruising, but it only makes you cling to him more.

“You were made for this,” he growls, voice thick with hunger, his breath hot against your skin. “Made for me.”

He tilts his head back slightly, drinking in the sight before him—your body moving in perfect rhythm with his, your skin flushed, marked by his touch, your pleasure written all over your face. It’s intoxicating, watching you come undone for him, knowing he’s the reason for your trembling thighs, your shuddering breaths, your desperate grip on his shoulders.

It’s almost too much. Almost enough to shatter the last threads of his control. But not yet. Because he isn’t finished with you. Not even close.

If PHAINON had to choose, it would be thighs—without a doubt. There’s something about the way they look wrapped around his waist, the way they tremble when he touches just right, the way they lock around him when you're desperate to keep him close. He loves how soft they are, how easy it is to slip his fingers beneath your skirt, to trace slow, teasing circles along your inner thighs just to hear your breath hitch.

And when you're on top of him? When you're straddling his lap, shifting impatiently as he drags his hands over your skin, taking his time just to watch you squirm? That’s his favorite. He loves the control it gives him, the way he can dig his fingers into your flesh and guide you exactly how he wants, pressing you down until there's no space left between you.

“Don’t run from me,” he murmurs, voice low and honeyed, a smirk tugging at his lips as he watches you shudder. “Stay right here. Let me feel you.”

Your thighs squeeze tighter around him, and he groans, fingers flexing as if he might just hold you there forever. Because nothing drives him wilder than this—the warmth of your body against his, the way you cling to him, the way you look when you finally stop fighting and give in.

Phainon’s grip tightens, fingers pressing into your flesh, his touch both grounding and possessive. He loves the way your body reacts—how you shiver under his fingertips, how your breath comes faster when he kneads the softest parts of your thighs. He knows exactly what he’s doing, the way his slow, teasing strokes make you ache, the way he holds you in place just to watch you tremble.

“You’re so sensitive,” he muses, his voice lilting, almost playful. “Is it because you can feel how deep my cock is in you?”

His words alone are enough to make you squirm, but he doesn’t let you go far. He keeps you pressed against him, his hands spreading over your thighs, smoothing over the plush curves before tightening just enough to make you gasp. He drinks in the sight—your body poised above his, your thighs framing him so perfectly, your need so obvious despite your feeble attempts to resist.

And then, just to tease, he shifts his hips beneath you, letting you feel the growing heat between you. Your breath hitches, your thighs instinctively squeezing tighter around him, and his smirk only deepens.

"See? This is why I love them," he murmurs, pressing a slow, lingering kiss against your throat. "So soft. So warm. So perfect when they’re wrapped around me."

His voice is honeyed sin, his touch both gentle and possessive, and it only makes you want more. But Phainon is in no rush—he likes to take his time, to savor, to make you melt beneath him until you're pliant and desperate and clinging to him with no escape. Because he knows, in the end, you’ll let him have exactly what he wants.

If ANAXA had to choose, it would be ass—without question. There’s something about the way it fills his hands, how perfectly it fits beneath his grip when he pulls you close. He loves the way it moves when you walk, the way it presses against him when you sit in his lap, the way his fingers sink into the plushness of it whenever he gets the chance to touch. And oh, he takes every chance he can get.

He’s shameless about it, too. A hand slipping down when no one’s looking, a firm squeeze that makes you gasp, a knowing smirk when you turn to glare at him. He doesn’t care if anyone sees—it’s his, after all. Why shouldn’t he enjoy it? And when he has you beneath him, body trembling, ass lifted just for him? That’s when he’s at his most ravenous, when his grip tightens, when his palm lands sharp against soft skin just to watch you jolt.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, voice rich with amusement as his hands roam, as he kneads and teases like he has all the time in the world. “So eager. You like this, don’t you?”

He knows the answer before you say a word. Because when he finally pulls you against him, when he thrusts deep and watches you arch, watches the way your body responds to him so perfectly—it’s enough to make him lose himself completely.

Anaxa's hand finds its way back to your ass, fingers curling around the soft curve before he delivers a sharp smack that resonates in the air between you. The sound is followed by a breathy gasp from your lips, and he can’t help but chuckle, reveling in the way your body responds to both pleasure and surprise. The sting of his hand contrasts beautifully with the heat building between you, igniting a fire that makes him want to push you further, to take you deeper.

“Such a good little thing,” he teases, delivering another spank, this one a bit harder, just to see you jump. “I think you like it more than you’re willing to admit.”

His words are playful, but his gaze is dark and hungry, filled with the need to dominate, to claim you completely. Each smack is a reminder of who you belong to, a perfect blend of pleasure and pain that leaves you gasping, arching into him as your body craves more.

“Give in to it,” he urges, voice low and inviting. “Let me hear you.”

With every thrust, every squeeze, every resounding slap of his hand against your soft skin, he pushes you closer to the edge. He loves the way you squirm, the way you moan, the way you melt beneath his touch. And as he loses himself in the rhythm of your bodies moving together, he knows that this is just the beginning of what he intends to take from you.

© 2024-2025 blueberrisdove-sideblog all rights reserved. pretty please, do not steal my dividers, translate and plagiarize any of my works, or either repost my works in any other platform without asking, thank you!

[websitdesiningdelhi]

Brain Stroke treatment in gurgaon

Neuraxis is a leading healthcare provider in Gurgaon, specializing in advanced Brain Stroke treatment. Our dedicated team of neurologists and state-of-the-art facilities ensure top-notch care for patients facing this critical condition. With a commitment to excellence, we offer cutting-edge diagnostic tools and innovative treatment options, tailored to each patient's unique needs. Neuraxis is dedicated to delivering the highest quality care in Gurgaon, helping patients on their path to recovery. Trust us for compassionate and effective Brain Stroke treatment in Gurgaon, because your well-being is our top priority.

[shyofbluebird]

[barbies1shots]

☆-fav big boy pushing you into a mean mating press? mating press, size kink, dub-con, small degradation, featuring BIG BOY KIRI♡, overstim ,(yk how i feel about this.)

getting straight to the point, big boy kiri would take every competition to heart. every challenge, every word, every action to heart. so when you first challenged him to make you tap out first? he took it and swore he would.

so now, with his body weight pushing you down, down till your knees were quite literally pressed into your chest, you couldn't even sputter out the words, 'I tap out.'

his torso itself locked you in place as he dragged his slutty hips in and out of your little cunt. he locked his fingers above your head so you couldn't squirm away from his brutal thrusts. his head hung low in the junction of your neck, listening to your half-sobs half-whimpers.

he heard you try and tell him that you came, that you came two times- no make it three now, but all he did was kiss his shark-like teeth and smile as he seemed to go even harder.

he turned his head as he panted into your hung one, his lips tugged into a menacing smirk. his victory went unnoticed. his large scarred hands took up your whole knee, and part of your thighs as he went and pinned you down with his body weight :( 250 lbs of pure muscle and fat.

his stroks were relentless, his fat, blunt head kissing your poor cervix with every jerk of his hips, every movement causing a sob- moan? choking its way from your throat. he put his weight behind his thrusts, making your body ludge yet stopped by his interlocked hands. every thrust had your toes curling next to his head as your mouth just hung wide open.

why play with fire when you know you just couldn't take him?

you felt something in your tummy, something mean and brutal push itself with every thrust, everytime his tip kissed your cervix it grew bigger and bigger. see, you tried to warn him you felt weird, that he needed to stop yet he kept fucking you like a miniature pocket pussy^^

you squirmed from under him, your hands scratching at bare skin, as you arched as best you can with his body weight on you. poor big boy kiri gasped in shock when he felt your juices spray him. wetting him down from his chest, to his thighs, and all the way down to the bed sheets. he smirked, rewarded yet kept going, ignoring your pain filled sobs and pleasure filled whines. ignoring your nails biting into your already scarred skin and your little bitch slaps. he ignored the pleads of him to slow down, of him to stop and give you a break get he just kept using you like the little fleshlight he deemed you are:((

if you wanted him to stop, you couldve used the safe word, right?

an: think i may change my writing style...

@aizawasbarb

[tottentz]

KISS ME FROM THE RUSH .ᐟ ── honkai star rail ?! ❛ i can't get enough ❜ 🗝 ﹢を ˒ㅤ ft. aventurine, blade, dr. ratio, argenti, sunday, jing yuan.

ֶָ֢⊹𐙚 WARNINGS ! mdni. reader has no pronouns but has afab anatomy, soft dom ! character & inexperienced ! reader, dry humping / aventurine, praising, pet names, fingering / boothill + jing yuan, oral ( receiving ) / blade, blowjob + cum swallowing / dr. ratio, implied multiple orgasm + overstimulation, dacriphilia, lil of corruption kink ( if you squint ). ♡ˎˊ˗

mature content ahead ! + please take care of yourself before proceeding.

aventurine .ᐟ

slender fingertips dig into the excess squish of your hips, prompting you to wriggle your waist and forcibly slot your pelvis where aventurine ushers you atop his lap, bunching your skirt in his fidgety palms as you delectably initiate a merciless roll of your hips that had his cock straining against the crotch of his jeans and his own hips eagerly bucking upwards.

he devours you in his embrace, and presses a brief kiss to the corner of your mouth before swallowing every mewl-like cry that parts your lips.

the lengthening drag led your clit to the silver buckle of his belt; pulpous bud sinking against the metal and flattening whenever aventurine thrusted his hips and temporarily pinned the bundle, catching the sensory mound before it dislodged and continued its previous rut.

you hissed through your teeth, breaking away from his lips to speckle rosy contortions into his skin. aventurine impatiently rocks his hips as if a mutt graveling in his heat, stiffening cock occasionally bumping your clit before the imprint would card through your soiled unde, gliding trough the dampened fabric with a friction that could kindle fire.

"that's it, baby," he coos, "almost there..."

he sounds breathless as he speaks, body shuddering when you placed a hot palm to his nape, grounding yourself and forcing coarse friction where you straddled him, desperate to clash against his pants as if you'd soon wear the denim to nothing and leave him bare.

"see...now isn't that nice?" he breathlessly laughs, "you're doing so well..., does it feel good?"

his hips erratically jerk, and the breathless pants from his mouth divulged his own craving, lips blowing against your collar before biting his presence into your skin. he's just as far off as you. ruby red and temple coated with sweat, aventurine is flushed and trembling under your hold. 

all he gets as a response is a pathetic whine, making him grin, "of course it does, sweetheart..." he so desperately wants to ravish what sensible though remained of your dizzying head; fuck you until you couldn't discern the hour of the day, but he refrained. not yet.

"that's it, sweetheart, that's it, cum for me. c'mon give it to me, show me how you pretty you are, yeah?." 

and you do, you gasp and squeal when the high finally crashes over you. he slows his thrusts, barely letting you go before carefully pressing back in, working you diligently through the high s you tremble and cream all over his pants like the sweet thing you are. 

blade .ᐟ

to his surprise, you don't yelp or squeak or become flustered when he occupied himself between your legs, only biting your lip as wild pulsations rendered your brain to mush and melted your forefront conscious into a haze of silver lining.

 matching the complex twist of the interstate, your abdomen began to tie its knot of arousal and nervousness, your posture tensing into a deep arch that forced your head against the leather seat and a whimper to fall from your glossed lips, and before you could cover your face with your hands, blade quickly hold your wrists down again.

"don't." his voice is mereley above a whisper as erratic shivers shook your withering figure against the bed.

 "you okay?" you choke intead a series of strangled moans following his order.

"i'm okay." he muses on that notion for a time, flicking his thumbs over your throbbing clit, the strokes stimulating the hardened bud that felt as if would burst in due time. nimbly dragging the anxious tips of your fingers between your legs. "it feels good?." 

you sniffle and nod, "really good..."

he hums and leans down, kissing your clit for one fleeting second before his hands are on your knees, keeping them pinned to your chest while he sat between your thighs as he licks at you, tentatively until he hears you quietly moan. then he's lapping, eager, pressing his face firmer against your cunt. 

the pressure was unfamiliar but it wasn't bad. in fact it felt really good, all the while your taste fills his mouth, floods his tongue, and he knows without a doubt that he would try this over again.

"blade-!" you gasp, reaching down to tangle your hands in his hair, effectively messing it up.

his cock is painfully hard in his pants but he can't bring himself to care -- not when he's got your spread like this, working your towards your high with every touch he gives you.

and when you finally cum, it's with a harsh tug of his hair. drawing his name from your lips, you arched further into the sheets as the last of your orgasm shook your weak limbs. his name carried significance. the tenor more than just a lovely echo of your rapture. 

he hums, opening his pretty eyes to look at you. when he pulls away, theres a string a spit connected to his lips before he smiles, letting you close your thighs and curl up. the sight of you breathless and teary eyed from the intense orgasm makes him want to go for seconds.

dr. ratio .ᐟ

"what do you want?" veritas asks. he shifts a bit, the mattress creaking again. a hand lands in your hair. it doesn't pull or tangle. gentle. too gentle. he never pulls when asked; for now, you slowly relaxe into this.

"it would be good if you hurry up, too,"you remained at attention. readily awaiting as if a devoted minion who had yet to receive orders.

"impatient."veritas hums, his touch unhurried. he takes his time more than he takes. you have never known what to do with it. you still don't, now, with goosebumps on your skin.

"and you're awfully slow," you say. "i just wanna make you feel good, you know."

there's a low, thoughtful hum. veritas is always thinking. you never know what he's thinking about, but veritas Ratio is a beautiful frowner, anyways.

"very well" a sigh. tiredness, fondness. you are too dizzy on pleassure to tell "open," veritas directs, lightly touching beneath your chin. his hands are warm. he touches with purpose. efficiency, but no lack of gentleness. he touches you like a craftsman touches his work. you open your mouth.

you impishly swiped your tongue past your lips before bringing your parted mounds to the base of his dick. puckishly dragging your tongue against his pulsating sex, you followed the protruding vessels of blue, soon hallowing your cheeks as to sink your head towards his pelvis. 

it earns him a soft hiss. veritas is never loud, but he's always honest. you rub your tongue along the underside, tracing the crown, flicking the slit. 

a whispered curse word. veritas' hips press up a little, his hand settles on your head, there is too much saliva in your mouth, you don't know how to do it, and so you let it make a mess instead. 

veritas curses again, his hand stays in place, though he's not trying to hold you in place. he makes a few shallow thrusts, cock sliding deeper, rubbing the back of your throat until you gag on your own spit, and then veritas eases you off to come up for air.

"good," veritas tells you, low and rough at your water-welled tear ducts glossed your eyes in crystalline solution. veritas is gentle even in this.

he warns you that he's close, and you moan like encouragement. his pace gentles. you are allowed to control the pace again, to pull off if you want to, but you stay.

veritas' thighs tense on either side of you, his breathings hallow and unsteady. he's always been beautiful in pleasure. all of him. veritas comes in waves on your tongue a moment later.  

"pretty." veritas says contemplatively, careful not to waste a drop, so when his hand falls from your hair to your spit-slick chin, examining you, he can whip the mess from your chin with his knuckles. ever kind, ever considerate. 

boothill .ᐟ

"stop staring" a moan rises in the back of your throat, and he thinks you look beatiful, how you shie away, hiding your mouth behind the palm of your hand when your moans begin to get loud, closing your eyes in ecstasy, letting the unintelligible noises melt away as boothill's hand slips inside your underwear.

"'m'enjoying the view." he runs the other hand down from your face to your chest, it dances on your body, caresses the curve of your neck, the valley of your breasts, rolling the sensitive bud beneath his fingertips, mindful to place bruising kisses along your neck where deep shapes of his ministrations would be left for you to cover.

his lips latche onto the skin of your shoulder, and he worked his away along the base until kissing the incision of flesh that dimpled behind your ear. 

“look at ya,” perceptible to his observant gaze, your shoulders trembled enthusiastically, accompanying the quiver of your knees that were soon to clamp around his hand. “fudge, you're gon' be the death 'o me, darl.” he cooes against your heated skin, noting the way your hold on him tightened.

his fingers press inside, and the both of you groan together. his digits are slender, dangerous maybe, and he eases them in so slowly it makes you whine. your hips buck up against his hand, back arching, and he chuckles, a cold hand pressing down on your navel to keep your steady.

"there ya go. not so desperate after all, hm?" the sensation so riveting that you are tender into his arms as he fucks you, somehow both gentle and rough. 

his fingers are sharp but slow, calculated to hit against your sweet spot with every thrust. he's filling the silence with gentle hums, encouraging you as you wither away, gasping and panting and begging.

"too good f'me," he whispers, crowding himself against your chest so you feel the cold metal of his own pressed up againts your skin, all over you. "aren'tcha?" there's a retort on the tip of your tongue, but the moment you open your mouth to speak, his hand  squeeze your cheeks together "aren'tcha?"

you're nodding before you know it.

"i am," you whimper, hands bracing yourself up. your arms are quivering from the endless sensation of his big hand on you, slicking up and down and up and down slowly. he is bringing you to your climax with every soft kiss he press into your shoulder. "i'm good for you."

and you can't help the words that spill out of your mouth as you cum hard around his fingers, that twinge into the air between you. you shuddered and almost screamed through your last orgasm, a slow rolling thing after the two ecstasies preceded it. 

unfamiliar with actions that caused your pretty little lips to squeal, boothill was sure to conduct each one, refusing to yield his practice until you had been blinded by sheer white, breathless and convulsing in his arms.

argenti .ᐟ

you hook your arms around argenti's neck before bringing him down for another kiss—one with more fervor, more intensity than you would otherwise offer. he doesn't reciprocate for a moment, seemingly astonished with your sudden vigor. but in time, he melts against your lips until one after the other.

such as now, his heavy body draped over yours, hips flush against you with his thick cock buried inside you.

"shh," he coos, fingers laced between yours as you sob and wail into the bed, feet mindlessly kicking as you cum around his stationary cock. he presses his lips against your shoulder, "how do you feel?" he teases you as you sniffle and tearfully look at him over your shoulder.

"s'good," you whisper and he smiles so sweetly at you that it makes your heart flutter.

he chuckles again, soft and reassuring as he lifts your thighs with strong hands, bracketing them again across his hips. 

"i know it does," he responds, carefully rutting his hips against you, stirring his cock within your walls, "you came so quickly."

"'again-!" you cut off to moan when he suddenly pulls back, "wanna  cum again"

"again" he considers, and you jolt when he pins your hips in place with one hand while seizing your wrist with the other. his look immediately morphs into something more captivatin, chuckling, "i'll make you cum again,"

but contrary to your expectations, argenti doesn't start fucking you into the mattress like a wild animal. instead, he hoists your hips even higher, holding your body at an odd angle. you're about to ask what he's trying to do, but when he plunges his cock back into your weeping hole, the words evaporate on your tongue.

"you are so beutiful," he assures. his sudden, unrelenting pace continues from then on out. argenti grips your thighs hard, but not enough to leave bruises. 

his discretion makes your heart flutter, but you can't quite bask in the sentiment given that his cock is hitting all the spots that make stars dance in the seams of your vision.

deep. he's so impossibly deep that you fear it'll take you days to sweat him out. a trail of saliva dribbles on your chin as argenti slowly guides you to the apex of an orgasm.his name sounds like an incantation on your lips, and you wonder if the aeons would let you have this man forever.

"argenti!" you squealed, gasping as you reached down to grab his wrist, "oh! wait, 'm gonna-!"

"it's alright," he assures, voice just as soft and even as ever, "just let it happen. want you to feel good for me."

your eyes roll back in your head and you gasp, al the while he whispered praises as you trembling and gushed, soaking his hand and cock. but he didn't mind, he just enjoyed the sight of you feeling good all because of him.

sunday .ᐟ

mass against his own. his chest is keenly pressed into your breasts, pinning you to the mattress with an intimidating vigor and a punishing snap of his hips. 

your ankles knock together behind his nape, and your knees crudely tense by your ears. a palm is cleaved at your waist, nails shoveling into the fat of your hips as the other hooks the bend of your knee into a firm mating press.

 your fingertips fiercely claw at his shoulders, scrambling for a pillar to keep your conscious ground and aware, but you can count the stars behind your glossy lids, another flitter of light flickering into the dark as the male slotted between your legs commences another tunneling of your tiny cunnie.

"'s too much—" tears descend the swell of your heated cheeks, droplets streaking your skin and smearing the mascara you previously applied to your fluttering lashes, brows tense and crinkled as your eyes lulled towards the back of your head and exposed the reddened white of your dazed optics.

"is that so?" a hum colored his tone, mocking and high, "i just want to be selfish and feel you cum around me. that's okay, isn't it?"

he lets your head fall to the bed again as he pauses the pounding of his hips to reach for your face, grabbing the fat of your flushed cheeks before he presss his thumb on your bottom lip.

you're embarrassingly compliant, parting your lips at the same time—tongue swirling around his skin as you cover them in a sheen of saliva. sunday doesn't say a word, but there's an uncharacteristic glint in his eyes that you never would've associated with him earlier.

"but do look pretty like this." his strong hand lets go of your face, instead moving to gently move your hair from your face where it's stuck to the mix of saliva and tears- the juxtaposition reminds you again of how much he actually cared."you know i always want to make you feel good."

a tap to your temple brings you out of your stupor- you're mindless, you're a mess, it's humiliating, but he smiles down at you. "you can give me one more, hm?"

you whimper; mewl as if language were unknown to you. all you can do is cry, sob, as his splits your little pussy in half. your name echoes from his kiss swollen lips as his fucks you harder into the mattress. his brain is in shambles; cluttered and screwed as if he had lost reasoning, but he was aware of himself; aware of his present endeavor-

he won't stop until you are sobbing his name, eagerly arching your tremoring pelvis into his own because he had begun to relentlessly hammer a delicate plot that induced your vision to flicker and blurrily haze with spangled glimmers of hot electricity.

jing yuan .ᐟ

there's just something so sweet about your voice when you are desperate. when you are laying in front of you, legs trashing as jing yuan watches, a small smile on his face as you try, try so hard to angle his fingers just right.

"can't," you whimper, free hand reaching out for him. but he leans back, smiling in faux sympathy. 

the nimble pads of his fingertips pried apart your slicken folds to clamp at the inflated bud between your legs, amber optics indifferent to your puppy-dog pout and repetitive mantra of plea as he forcibly held your thigh apart, eyes flittering the expanse of your skin when you pitifully cried and spoke incoherent requests he blatantly neglected to acknowledge.   

he hums softly, shifting closer to you and hoisting you up by your armpits, he settles you in his lap. "better?" he murmurs against your skin, taking the vibrator in your hands and pressing it up against her drooling cunt, buzzing along her clit. she chokes out a small, yes, before burying her face in your shoulder.

"feels good, doesn't it?," he whispers. "tell me."

he can feel you tensing every time he pushes his calloused fingers just a little deeper, the way your toes curl and your ankles dig into his back. he knows you feel good. he just wanna hear it. "'s good," you whimper. "good!— feels really good."

"gonna cum?" he cradles your face with his free hand, dipping his head down to press a small kiss to your lips, swallowing your breaths. "gonna cum for me, yeah?"

you nod. your brain's melted into pretty pink goo, oozing out of your ears with every second his fingers keep fucking into you. he pushes you, keeps pushing you into ecstasy, until your unravelling on his fingers. "oh," he coos. "so pretty, look at you."

you don't know when you start cumming. you don't know when you stop. he doesn't stop though, never stops. he keeps fucking into you, the sensation so riveting you don't even feel your third orgasm until it materialises in your trembling legs.

jing yuan hushes you. "just let me, dear," he makes quick work of your clit, having you gasping his name "so good f'me, yeah? cum, come on. i know you got it in you."

you stifle your cries into his shoulder, and he smiles softly. it's times like these where he looks at you with hearts in his eyes, when he brushes the soft hair and tuck it behind your ear in a move of adoration. it's times like these when he thinks that you are so good, so sweet, you'd do anything he say, right?

. ࣪✦ ៸៸ tottentz ▐ © 2024 ､ ? 𓄹 ܵ ۪