#unedited sorry!

[danmeichael]

shen jiu's brother is exposing STERNOCLEIDMASTOID ALSO KNOWN AS THE SCM (PICTURED IN DRAWING) in addition to being implied to be exposing THE JUGULAR NOTCH BETWEEN HIS TWO CLAVICLES (COLLARBONES) SOMETIMES ALSO REFERRED TO AS THE CLAVICLE THOUGH IT IS OUT OF FRAME for every beast on the peak??? like some kind of harlot????

[tojisun]

biting the inside of my cheek thinking about cat dad price and how soft he is and how endearing they both would be and how much he loves spoiling her and just.

thinking about being jostled awake from your sleep when you feel him press his lips on your forehead before he pulls back, and you turn to your side, blinking the haze away to watch him get up, scratching at his side, before trudging to the door and opening it. then he just lets this deep rumbling of a coo and bends down to pick up your ragdoll.

“good morning, little miss,” he whispers and she chirps at him, mewing, and buts her head to his chin, and john visibly melts.

thinking about how your little darling is so tacticle with you but is absolutely clingy with john – letting out series of meows and chirps, winding her short body between his legs, and waiting so patiently for him to pick her up to drop her to his lap. and john reclines on the couch because he knows she’ll climb up his chest to play with his beard, and she does it so much that it’s been their routine now.

(thinking about how you would have never met john if it wasn’t for your darling cat, anyway. how she brought him to you, or you to him, and how her contentment in his arms was easily a reflection of your own love for him.)

thinking about how your princess is found napping in the bottom drawers, where his jumpers are stowed, every time john has to return to the base now that his vacation’s over. and you send pictures to him, telling him, “looks like i’m not the only one who misses you,” and god, john misses his girls too :(

[montagoves]

heaven | jason todd

genre: smut (fem! reader!) 18+

warning: oral (male! receiving), slight degradation, small mention of munch jason <3

summary: jason’s version of heaven is his pretty girl on her knees

a/n: i don’t like giving bjs but if jason were mine my mouth would be open 24/7

Jason’s never been to Heaven, but he swears it looks just like this. 

You were on your knees in front of your bed, tears in your eyes as your pretty little lips wrapped around the first few inches of his cock. He groaned at the sight, wanting to close his eyes but forcing himself to keep them open. He couldn’t miss one moment of this.

Jason was a little weary at first when you asked him to fuck your face. He knows he’s bigger than average, and you already gag when giving him a blowjob on your own. But you asked him so sweetly, reassuring him that you’d be able to handle it. And how could he refuse his sweet girl of what she so desperately wanted?

“Takin’ me so well, sweetheart,” he let out in a low murmur, his hand reaching out to twirl a finger around a lock of your hair. He groaned quietly when your eyes seemed to gleam at the praise, wet eyelashes fluttering for him. God, you were already struggling to take him. His strong, brave girl. 

“Can you go further?” he asked, his hand slowly moving to the back of your head. He didn’t move yet, just tangling his fingers within the locks. You inhaled shakily through your nose, giving him a small hum of agreement. “Good girl… so good f’me.”

Jason pushed his hips forward slowly, watching another thick inch of him disappear past your lips. He bit his lip back, staring as your eyes closed momentarily. 

“Nuh, uh. None of that. Eyes on me, ‘kay, sweetheart?” Jason gruffed, gently tugging your hair. Your eyes fluttered open and your soft, gentle hands placed themselves on his outer thighs. You looked back up at him, Jason’s heart racing at the sight. 

“You’re gonna keep those pretty eyes on me while I use your mouth, yeah?” he questioned, feeling you squeeze his thighs as a sign of confirmation. He smiled, his grip tightening slightly on your hair. 

Then, without warning, Jason began to thrust his cock into your mouth. Sweet whines and gagging noises left your mouth as he fucked your face, your sounds only spurring him on more. Jason groaned, pausing for a moment. 

“F-Fuck, we should’ve done this sooner…” he grumbled, his chest heaving a bit. “Knew you’d look all cute like this f’me, too.”

In response, you nuzzled your nose against the short curls at the base of his cock. With your eyes still on his, you swallowed around his head, your throat constricting around him deliciously. Jason let out a shaky moan, not wasting another second before resuming his fast-paced thrusts. 

“W-Where the fuck did you learn to do that?” he breathed, feeling his cock twitch as he bordered the line of release. “Fucking naughty. Bet you like being used like this too, huh? W-Wanted to be my cumslut so bad. All you had to do was ask, sweetheart.”

The tip of Jason’s cock was hitting the back of your throat with each thrust, the tears in your eyes now streaming down your cheeks. With one final buck of his hips, he let out a guttural moan, his body leaning forward. He caught himself on the mattress with one hand, his other hand still holding your head to his pelvis. He breathed heavily, his head bowing down to look at you.

You whimpered at the new angle, Jason’s thighs pushing against your shoulders and keeping you trapped against the side of the bed. Your eyes were still on his as his cock remained in your mouth, his hot cum filling those cheeks of yours. 

He could spend forever admiring you like this. 

But he wasn’t a complete sadist, and he knew you needed a break after your first time doing this. He pulled out of your mouth, watching a line of spit connect his tip to your bottom lip. 

“The damn prettiest thing I’ve ever seen,” he mumbled, his grip on your hair loosening as he began to fix the strands. “You okay, sweetheart? Better have swallowed all of me up.”

You nodded, mouth opening as Jason moved to kneel in front of you. You stuck your tongue out, and Jason leaned forward to tangle his tongue with yours, tasting himself on you and your lips. 

“Atta girl,” he murmured against your lips, kissing you once more before suddenly picking you up by the backs of your thighs. You gasped as he moved to lay back on the bed, pulling your hips up to hover over his face. 

“My turn, now. Make sure to get comfy and sit all the way down, sweetheart. Gonna be here a while,” he said, easing your thighs apart with his elbows so your pussy was mere inches from his mouth. “I’m a slow eater,” he grinned before pulling your hips down and burying his face in your sweet pussy.

[cnl0400]

Character references for the undateables

I love all the little details!!

Sharing these because knowledge should be #free and #available to #everyone

[ellieputellas]

pretend | alexia putellas x reader

Alexia contemplates her feelings as you pretend a drunken kiss between you two never happened.

contains: angst, some making out, barçafemeni!reader, avoidant!reader, just a lot of angst tbh | word count: 2k+

a/n: not proofread, just wrote this cause i couldnt sleep and was listening to lizzy mcalpine's hate to be lame which gave me this idea

it's always on the tip of my tongue but i stop myself from saying it tell myself it's not the right time or something dumb

The last night of the Champion's League celebration was supposed to be just like any other victory party—loud, drunk, messy. On nights like this, it was natural to make a fool of yourself.

Alexia was never immune to the drunken stupidity — the typical drunken dancing and singing, foolish antics that got the team laughing. (In one victory party, Alexia found herself dancing with someone else's sports bra wrapped around on her head.)

But on that particular night, her drunken act of stupidity wasn't just loud karaoke or making a fool of herself. No, it was way different.

At some point, during the night, you two had gotten drunk and began grinding on each other at the dance floor. It was normal for teammates to get a bit touchy during parties so no one bat an eye but Alexia knew this thing happening between you two was different.

It started with playful dancing then you somehow found a way to plant a few kisses on her neck. It didn’t take long until you two ended up stumbling into the vacant restroom, kissing each other desperately.

Some kind of tension has always lingered between the two of you before but Alexia always chalked it up to the two of you being newly single. She always brushed it off, thinking it might just be her reading into things. Afer all, you have always been her type and she figured she might be interpreting your dynamic through wishful thinking.

But that night, that small tension she felt burst into something more, and she understood that this meant it wasn't just her who felt attraction towards the other.

She felt your hands desperately cling onto her as you locked lips. Your tongue glided on her bottom lip before ultimately finding its way into her mouth. You took turns pinning each other against the flimsy walls of the cramped stall.

Alexia's hand has found it way to your neck, gently tilting your head up with it before pressing her mouth against your neck to kiss, lick, and bite at you. You gasped in satisfaction as the taller girl kissed your neck.

You grabbed her face again to kiss her deeper, more intensely. Alexia felt that this was the type of kiss that could lead to something more; the likelihood of you crossing that line increasing with every minute that passed.

You gently pushed her off of you, as you tried to catch a breath. Your eyes remained locked as you stayed within close proximity. After a while, you noticed the hunger in Alexia's eyes simmer down into something more... soft and intimate.

This time, Alexia gently touched your face and moved to capture your lips again but this time, you looked away and avoided her kiss. You sighed before hurriedly unlocking the stall, walking out the restroom, and leaving Alexia all alone without even a goodbye.

Alexia felt dumbfounded. She thought that this kiss was your way of addressing the tension, a way of telling her that maybe you felt attracted to her too. But with the sudden exit, she began to doubt herself.

She wanted to talk to you about it the next time you saw each other but it became immediately evident to her that you were set on pretending like nothing happened.

You still joked with her in training, still bantered with her, tell stories like normal. You acted exactly like you did before; it was as if she dreamt up the kiss.

She played along like nothing had shifted, like your kiss had been meaningless. She even laughed at your jokes during training. But every word felt like a lie, every shared laughter felt like a stab.

In her mind, she wished you'd at least act different. She would rather you hated her or avoided her, something—anything to confirm that there was something real, something more.

But you acted like it was nothing.

She felt like she was going crazy, even doubting her own sanity at some point. She spent the past few months trying to forget it ever happened. But the more she tried, the more it hurt her. Because how could you pretend that all of that was nothing... when it felt like everything for her.

But then you kiss me like you do And we're right back where we started from

It was Pina’s birthday.

Alexia initially didn't want to go. It was in the middle of the season and she knew that the team captain being there meant everyone would be too hesitant and shy to drink, knowing she was around.

But she knew how Pina was, and she knew Pina would pester her endlessly if she didn't at least make an appearance.

So, she did. She went to the place late and much to her surprise, most of the team was behaving. A few of the players were nursing a bottle of beer but nothing excessive. She figured she must have done something right for her teammates to be so well-disciplined even without her hovering around them.

Well... she thought that until she saw you.

Of course, she's drunk. She thought to herself.

You were already tipsy, practically glowing, and laughing too loudly. The sight of you sent a jolt of something unfamiliar through her.

You had your arms wrapped around Caro, who was trying too hard to help you sober up by making you drink from a bottle of water. Alexia sighed and made her way to save Caro from your drunkenness.

Caro gave her a thankful look as she took over in aiding to you. She let you drape your arms around her as she wiped the stray hairs that stuck to your face.

"In the middle of the season?" She asked you in a stern voice. "Really?"

You frowned at her. "You wouldn't get it."

Alexia just sighed as she continued what Caro was doing, desperately trying to get you to sober up. "Did something happen?"

You stayed silent but you were too easy to read when you were drunk. Your glazed expression gave away that you were going through something. You still had an arm wrapped around Alexia, as if to keep yourself balanced, but you were also trying to avert your gaze away from her.

Alexia sighed. "I should take you home."

You bit your lip but you nodded. Alexia sighed and held your waist as you kept an arm around her; she was afraid if she let go, you'd fall over.

The car ride was silent. She wanted to talk to you about why you were getting irresponsibly drunk, why you seemed upset and... why you acted like your kiss never happened. But instead, she stayed silent, and as did you.

Alexia pulled up to your apartment building. After she parked, you unclasped your seatbelts but neither of you made a move to exit the car.

Alexia sighed. "Do you wanna talk... about anything?"

You shifted your gaze towards her, taking in how pretty she looked tonight. She was wearing a leather jacket on top of a cropped shirt, revealing a sliver of her abdomen. Your eyes now fluttered to her face. You took in her warm eyes, her nose, her lips. She looked so besutiful even under the dim lighting. You thought, fuck, why does she have to be so gorgeous?

You hummed. "I'm sorry I took you away from the party... especially since you look so good tonight."

Alexia started growing anxious as you said those words. "Well, I didn't really plan on going anyway..." Alexia said.

Drunkenly, you reached out to cup her face and guiding it upward so she'd meet your gaze. You stayed that way for a bit, just looking at each other's eyes. Until finally, you couldn't take it.

You leaned in and captured her lips in a kiss. It was more gentle than before, more intentional. As you pulled away, you studied her expression but Alexia just looked pained.

She sighed and looked away, causing your hand on her cheek to drop. She took a deep breath as she gripped the steering wheel with her hands and rested her head on top of it.

Emotions were overwhelming her. This was the long overdue confirmation she wanted from you so bad yet... it felt so wrong.

After a minute, Alexia finally spoke. "Why?"

"Huh? Why what?" You asked back.

She lifted her head slightly and locked eyes with you again. "Just... why?"

You sighed. "I don't know... I just want to kiss you."

Alexia looked exasperated. She took a moment to think. Do you remember last time? Why did you act like it never happened? Why do you want to kiss me now? Why do you only want to kiss me when you're drunk? Do I mean something? Do the kisses mean something? Do you... like me like I like you?

She had a million questions flying around her head but she settled on one. "Tell me honestly. Do you remember the last time we kissed?" She locked eyes with you and this time, you could see pain behind them. She tried to be firm with the way she asked but the vulnerability seeped through.

You blinked at her. “I think about it all the time,” you admitted before you could even consider lying; your inebriation made you too honest.

Alexia chest tightened as she felt hurt by the admission. Am I not supposed to be happy... that she thinks about it too like I do?

Before she could react, you were trying to lean in again as your face cupped her cheek, trying to kiss her. And that's when Alexia snapped into clarity.

No. You were drunk. This wasn’t... healthy. She couldn’t let herself do this again, not when everything between you was so confusing, so undefined.

“No,” Alexia whispered, gently pushing you away, though her hands shook with the desire to do exactly the opposite.

You looked at her with an expression that could only read as upset to Alexia but she tried to ignore it as she unlocked your car door. "I think you should go."

You stayed steady for a minute, twiddling your thumbs then staring at her but she kept her head low, trying so hard not to look at you until you finally stepped out without another word.

Hate to admit but it might be true Hate to admit but I think you knew Hate to be lame but I might love you

After that night, as expected, you didn't acknowledge the kiss. But this time, you started acting cold.

No more joking around. No more banter. You'd be laughing it up with the other Barça girls but as soon as Alexia came over, you'd bail and make an excuse to avoid her.

It was killing her, just being like this. Mapi had taken notice and pulled Alexia aside to ask if she was alright, which Alexia just hesitantly nodded.

Mapi didn't believe it for a moment. "Is it because of..." Mapi trailed off as she discreetly turned her gaze towards you as you were busy on your phone in the locker room.

Alexia sighed and said nothing but that was enough confirmation for Mapi. She sighed. "You need to talk it out," She said. "It's kinda affecting your dynamic on and off the pitch."

Alexia knew Mapi was right. Not only was it taking a toll on her emotions to be dealing with this awkward tension and silent avoidance, it wasn't long before shit gets worse and the team performance is affected. If it was only affecting her, she would have dropped the whole issue but she knew this was beyond you and her.

She caught you before training the next day, her voice sharp but shaking as she confronted you. "Can we talk?"

You sighed and nodded. "Yeah, Capi?"

She winced at the nickname, knowing that it was your tactic to distance yourself from her. Just another subtle way of deflecting.

“I know you feel the same way,” Alexia blurted it out, her words tumbling out too quickly. She regretted being so outright but she also no longer wanted to waste time. She had to do what she had to do.

Alexia sighed as she ran her hand through her hair. “And... it hurt when you acted like nothing happened. Like it didn’t matter.” Her chest heaved with the weight of everything she hadn’t said.

You stayed silent which just forced Alexia into doing all the talking. "I don't know what's going on with you but... why me? Why are you roping me into this?"

"It's nothing." You muttered.

Alexia grew frustrated. "Bullshit."

"What do you want me to do, Alexia?" Your eyes finally met hers.

"I don't know." She groaned. "Admit you like me too... or even just admit you kissed me. Tell me why you did. Tell me if it mattered. Fuck, I'd settle with you telling me it was a mistake. I just... need to hear from you that..."

"Nothing happened,” you said firmly, almost as if to convince yourself as much as her.

Alexia’s heart sank. She was there just begging for you to admit it did, even if you say it was a mistake; she just needed to hear it from you. Instead, you denied her again.

“But—”

“Drop it,” you snapped, turning quickly, rushing away before she could say anything more.

She watched you go, her hands shaking at her sides. There was nothing more she could do. She was left standing there, confused and hurt, unable to understand why it hurt so much. How could you pretend it meant nothing when everything inside her screamed that it meant everything?

Do I love her? Do I need her? Do I want her? Do I care enough to say That I love her, that I need her? 'Cause I don't but I wanna feel okay

Days turned into weeks and weeks into months and Alexia still couldn't forget what happened.

Your dynamic on the pitch suffered for a bit but it recovered. And pretty soon, you were acting normal again around her.

As if nothing, nothing at all, had happened.

For a while, Alexia had convinced herself she had moved on from it. It was just two kisses, she told herself on multiple occasions. You don't even like her that much.

But there were nights when she couldn't help but be consumed with confusion and frustration. She hated how it happened—how you treated her, how you pretended nothing was real.

On most days, she hated you. She acted normal around you, sure, but there was an added layer now. Everything was more guarded. Even if she asked you often how you were and laughed at your jokes, your relationship was hurt and it could never go back to how it was.

And even if she did despise you for what you did... she still couldn’t stop the way her heart raced when she saw you. She couldn’t shut off the part of her that still hoped that maybe, one day, you'd admit to her that it did happen and maybe that you feel a certain softness for her too.

But she knew it wasn't happening any time soon and now, all she can do is what you do best — pretend.

[spurbleu]

gnawing at my fist.

soap being so desperate for you he starts biting him self when he jerks off.

oh you’re such a delicate thing. fresh laundry, warm clay, tea set. a beauty.

but its when his weeping tip is snivels into your drooling hole that you claw and snarl and kick. the feral beneath floral shampoos pant like an animal, wakes to sex sweat on the back of your neck.

to his greatest pleasure, as he peels himself from you, he’s covered by red, flushed dents of your canines. can’t help but fuck you in front of a mirror just to watch as the wonderful marks you made stretch and break around the bulge of his shoulder.

but on deployment, he doesn’t have his little pet. no wild, wet pussy to squirm when he bullies himself inside. no little hands that scrape down his back. no teeth.

so he settles for the next best thing- pushing his forearm into his mouth as he muffles grunts- fucking his churlish palm in shallow, shuttering thrusts. bites like you would, cockdumb and desperate. thinks of the sweet little moans you’d make and how his name, a rarity in base, sounded so addictive coming from the wet of your lips, and-

cums when the pearls of his teeth break skin and blood swipes the top of his mouth.

freshens up with the thought of you still stamped in red ink on his brain and arm, but it’s not until the team is tucking over for the night when ghost sends him a look.

“fockin nasty.”

“‘scuse me?”

“t’ose bastards. never play fair.”

“….aye.”

[cuntholicism]

tysm op for the inspo

clips taken from dnpg's newest video

[pricegouge]

the erotic pin up thought but imagine nikolai tattooing his favourite pic and surprising his lover with it :3

he's already been away for two weeks when you get a text from an unknown number. you don't need the contact to discern who it is, anyway. in istanbul. things are running long. don't expect me back so soon. you're not expecting a reply when you tell him not to worry, to just keep himself safe, but you're delighted when you get one anyway.

>>You too, milaya.

he messages you at least once a day, just to check in. you've never been able to contact him like this while he's been on mission before and you don't want to ruin it by being too needy but the temptation of your phone lays heavy in your pocket all week. you'd hate to interfere but he makes it hard when he keeps up a slow, steady means of communication. you wonder about the mission, don't dare ask. it seems unlikely that he'd let himself be so distracted if it were something high stakes, though. it's possible he's been relegated to glorified taxi while bigger pieces make their moves and you can't help but sympathize when you picture him waiting around, dining in the quaint kind of cafes he'd never really seemed to find an appreciation for - at least, not on his own. he was always happy enough to take you but it had always been very clear where his interest lied, dark eyes trained on you even as he ordered. observant, filing away each little reaction he could pull from you with savory dishes and select deserts. you flatter yourself, imagining his patience breaking, just a little more each day, just enough to text you, earlier and earlier each day until two weeks have come and gone and you've basically fallen into a constant rapport.

you ask for pictures of the city and he obliges, little peeks into the life he's living while away. yet more evidence this is some bizarrely political mission he doesn't really need to be present for. you note when he moves locales a few times but he tactfully avoids telling you his location again. he stops sending you pictures altogether when you start guessing correctly.

so you start sending him pictures instead. they start out innocent enough, testing the limits of what you're allowed to say on this line. he shows gives no intent to stop you when you show him the view from the summit of a local hike, nor even when you snap a picture outside a local restaurant, its logo left carelessly in frame. he only tells you to enjoy, doubles down when you send a selfie with your cheeks stuffed full of spanakopita.

you start to think he deserves a reward, being on the clock for nearly a month straight and still finding the time to check in with you.

his hangar is a sacred place, one you rarely enter without his accompaniment. too many expensive tools, machinery pulled apart with all its fragile bits exposed. you're always afraid to touch, afraid to break. nik had told you once that every item there was made of sterner stuff, that you couldn't hurt a swashplate if you climbed up on it. funny how you might be taking him up on the offer now.

(you wouldn't know really, the knowledge about what a swashplate even was having gone in one ear and right out the other. not your fault when he looked that good, jumpsuit folded down to reveal a sweaty, clingy tank top, wiry hair visible through the thin ribbed material.)

but you're getting ahead of yourself.

the tarp kicks up a mess when you pull it free, concrete dust having settled in nik's absence. it sends you into a sneezing fit and you curse, smudging your makeup as you try to wipe away the moisture collecting on your lash line. you decide to roll with it when you catch a glimpse of yourself in some nearby chrome, see the kind of effect it brings to your overall look.

your makeup is classic, a bright lip and exaggerated liner. even a painted on beauty mark to really knock it home. the outfit was harder to settle on, your every instinct telling you nik always appreciated when you looked your finest, all dolled up in expensive labels he'd bought for you. but ultimately you'd decided what was good for the goose was good for the gander, pilfering from his closet until you'd found what you were looking for, the exact same outfit which drove you mad.

nik's a big man, his jumpsuit made to reflect that. it drapes away from your waist when you let it hang but it's nothing that a clever safety pin corset can't fix, the top of the suit left to hang over it, hiding it away. long legs are easier to remedy, hems tucked into a pair of hiking boots you hadn't cared about in years, now painted to look the part with the same gear grease you'd smeared all over yourself, tasteful swipes meant to accentuate your soft curves, here on display under the dirty tank top you'd sworn you'd told him to get rid of, now tied tight around your waist to show off your chest. and now with your smudged makeup you think you've finally got it right, the look exactly what you'd been going for when you'd first got the notion in your head.

with the stage already set, the photoshoot goes easily enough. the poses are almost instinctual, the big wrench you wield almost natural in your hands as you lean provocatively over the engine block, tits to squished you doubt he'll ever even notice the size isn't right for the bolts in front of you. you try a couple of different styles, positions which are obviously designed with aesthetics in mind interspersed with more competent looking ones, even though it makes you feel ridiculous when you think of how obvious it will be to him that you don't know what you're doing.

you just have to remember how little he's going to mind it, all told.

editing isn't your strong suit. you're racked with doubt all the while, hyperfocused on every little flaw you spot. it gets easier when you remember the whole shoot is meant to be quite grimy and in the end you settle on a decent collection. you even remember to upload them to a file sharing site to avoid compression, sending him the link with a wink and a warning not to open in front of his comrades.

he calls you naughty immediately, but it's long hours before he can properly respond, a call that wakes you up in the middle of the night so he can pant and moan in your ear about how much he wants to bend you over that engine, peel his suit off of you and eat your cunt from the back. it's the first time you've heard his voice in weeks and the low rumble of it conspires with the slickness in your panties which never fully righted itself after your little photoshoot, the anticipation of his reaction keeping you primed for him. you come together before trading quiet reassurances. how much you miss each other, how you can't wait to see him again. he makes a vague promise to be home soon and you're still so sated that the twinge of loneliness feels like nothing really.

you think that's the end of it. that maybe he'll request more, at most. but then you wake up days later with a furnace at your back and a hairy arm draped over your side. it's still early, the sun not even up yet. you should let him sleep but you can't help rolling within the age of his arm and planting a chaste kiss on his cheek. even in the low light you can see how haggard and hollow he looks, run ragged for too long. his beard is overgrown, the short stubble he usually keeps filling out into a decent beard.

really it's unfair how handsome he looks even now.

"go back to sleep."

you huff a laugh and press another kiss to him. lower now that you know he's awake. above his cupid's bow, your own lips drawn tight with your smile. "but it's morning."

"can't be," he counters, voice thick with exhaustion. "i only just fell asleep."

you hum, distracted as you trace the wrinkles of his forehead. was that one always there? was it new? "maybe it's not wherever you were," you concede. "where were you, by the way?"

"where wasn't i?" he sighs as he rolls away, a great puff of air that cuts through the easiness of the morning, reminds you of what exactly he's likely returned from. the culmination of the mission, even the easy one it seemed to be. he was rarely ever trotted out for emissary visits, after all.

but you don't want to think about all that so you follow him as he rolls, laying yourself across his chest to keep him grounded as you rub against his far shoulder. "well you're home now and my vote's for sleeping in."

his chest rumbles beneath you, a quiet laugh you can feel more so than you can hear. he takes your hand in his and presses a kiss to your fingers before setting it back down in favor of reaching much lower to pull you more properly onto him. your grip shifts from his shoulder to his bicep and you pause when you feel the edge of a bandage there, worry settling low in your belly as you trace the edges of it. "you're hurt?" you demand, but you don't give him a chance to respond before sitting up and leaning across him to turn the lamp on.

it takes you a moment to make sense of what you're looking at, the bandage you'd felt before nothing more than four haphazard lines of tape holding a square of black plastic against his skin. he laughs at your confusion, thumbing the furrow between your brows away as he also sits up, pulling you onto his lap as he reassures you he's not hurt.

"what's that then?" you ask, afraid to peel the edges up and see for yourself.

he's chuckling as he does it for you, the wrap pulling away to reveal the neat black lines and bold color of a traditional tattoo, a plump little pinup in a barely-hanging-on mechanic's jumpsuit, her cartoonishly circular tits squeezed between her own arms as she leaned confidently over simplified engine block. it's good work from what you can tell. his bicep is a big canvas, the tattoo itself appropriately sized, leaving the artist enough room for minute details, smudges of brown oil accentuating your curves and a wry smile below demure lids.

still.

"you didn't," you scoff, too blown away to even know if you're actually mad or not. you don't think you are, but what if he -

what if -

"well it was either this or i get you airbrushed on the side of the blackhawk, but you are mine, and i do not want just anyone to see you like that."

[ayyy-pee]

Center Stage

suguru whimpers as he pounds into you, folds your legs until there’s a knee on each side of your head. you're so good he has to bite back a gasp when your walls squeeze down on him, gripping his cock so fucking hard he sees stars. his eyes roll back when he reaches a hand down to your clit, swollen and sensitive and he feels the sudden gush of your arousal drip down between your bodies. suguru loves how your tight little cunt always takes him so well, how it makes room for him and holds him like it never wants to let go.

every thrust, every roll of his hips, every slap of your skin meeting has suguru leaning down to groan into the crook of your neck. he doesn’t let up, pounding into you like a man possessed. and he is. your pussy makes him insane, makes him want to scream, makes him want to fucking cry.

it feels like heaven in your walls.

suguru loves to look between you, where your bodies connect and see the creamy mess you’ve made on him. fuck he loves how your pussy always makes a mess. it’s one of his favorite things about you.

that and the way your lips part when he pistons his hips a certain way, touches that sweet spot you love. how your head falls back and your back arches when he wraps his thick fingers around your neck, makes you hold his weight as he fucks into you with reckless abandon. the way your little moans fall from that pretty mouth he loves to bury his cock in. he loves all of that.

he loves the way your hands find his hair and you pull. not gentle at all, just the way he likes. you’re as a desperate and fucking needy as he is.

“come on baby. tell me how much you love my cock.” he pleads. he knows you love it. you've told him plenty of times. but suguru also loves to get his ego stroked.

“i love it, ah- fuck, fuck i love your cock!” you whimper beneath him like the good girl you always are. all he ever has to do is ask and you’ll deliver every time. so obedient. it’s why you’re his favorite.

suguru can feel your walls softly convulsing around him. you’re so close. but while your words were good, they’re weren’t good enough. so suguru slows his pace, staring down at you with half lidded eyes. he wants you to do it right.

“pretty girl forgot her manners,” he chides, clicking his tongue. “i love your cock, what?”

he bottoms out with a particularly harsh thrust that has you crying out, your fingers tightening in his tresses and he chuckles, his dick twitching within the confines of your cunt.

“oh fuck! i love your cock master geto”

there it is.

you peer up through your lashes at the man above you and the smug smile on suguru’s lips sends you spiraling over the edge, your orgasm rushing over you, your body shivering as wave after wave hits you. and your sweet lips muttering his formal title, it has him burying his face in your neck again, whining as his hips stutter with every sloppy thrust until his balls tighten.

he grips your thigh hard, high pitched whimpers falling freely from his mouth as his cock stiffens and his hot, white seed fills your twitching pussy. the release has suguru shaking, struggling to hold his weight as your pussy milks him of every fucking drop.

you’re both panting, both catching your breath as suguru kisses you desperately, pressing kisses to your face, to your lips. and he’s still cumming

“m-master geto,” you mutter between kisses. he hasn’t pulled out of you, just keeps rolling his hips into your slowly, softly as he continues to litter your lips and face with kisses.

suguru hums in acknowledgment.

“you’ll be late to session tonight,” you warn him. “you know there will be big donors there. you don’t want to be late.”

ah yes, the work never stops for suguru. he would love to stay here, on the floor of his stage but it wouldn’t be a good look to have his donors and worshippers walk in on you both in the middle of such a salacious act.

and you, his most favorite follower. there's no way in hell allow anyone to leave the room alive if they saw you this way. no, you're meant to be seen by him this way and him alone. even with your current situation, he knows you are loyal to him. so with a hiss, suguru pulls out of you, smirking when he sees the way you pout at the loss of fullness.

cute.

“come and see me after session” he tells you with one last press of his lips to yours. he crawls off of you carefully and fixes his robe. you nod, watching as he exits the room.

he knows where to find you.

suguru always finds you the moment he enters the room, packed with worshippers ready to give themselves to him. and you’re among them, loyal as ever to him, even as you bow politely and pledge yourself to the organization alongside your husband.

[toffeebrews]

DELTAAA DELTA SANS CHEERS!!!!

Delta sans by AnimatedZorox!!

As always, here some ramblings:

His pants are heavily inspired by hot-headed anime characters such as Bakugo and Natsu, who tend to wear baggy pants. Aside from just personality, his baggy pants allow for more mobility and protection than the shorts? maybe.

He seems like a guy who would wear activewear. He has the jacket cause hes still sorta connected to sans.

The wraps on his legs are supposed to go all the way down to his skeleton feet, which I believe are used to support and prevent injury and improve balance :)

He has his friendship bracelet on him at all times, although sometimes he'll put it in his pocket if he's gonna like fight or smth

The tie around his waist is for style and so they're more form fitting. It looking a karate belt was accidental but maybe a happy accident?

The stripes were supposed to reflect Colors stripes on his outfit! I like to think Color was one of Delta's first friends in the Omega timeline. Also just, because he has stripes on his eyes why not his clothes?

[cupids-fiction]

she henry on my winter till i bacchanal

[dinsbeskar]

In the Dark of the Night (Sauron/F!Reader)

Reader is long starved of her lover, after centuries apart, these are the fantasies that plague her in the night

Prequel: Wicked Game // Sequel: Evil Will Find Her

AO3 Link

Warnings: smut! 18+, female masturbation (reader), unprotected P in V sex, Sauron likes eating you out apparently?? Begging, praise kink, biting (only a little), kinda rough sex?? Lots of yearning, he absolutely adores you

A/N: I wrote this at 3am instead of sleeping, it is very much a "bashed it out and now I'm running away" type of fic. Is he there or isn't he?? Idk, it's up to you!! I imagined him as Annatar in this, but you're welcome to imagine any face you fancy, he is a shapeshifter after all!

There is an unending, seeking void in Middle Earth. You know it well, for it resides deep in your own being, hungry and desperate and vicious like a starved dog. It hadn't always plagued you, but after an age without your lover at your side, the void has filled the aching hole in your heart, tendrils of heavy nothing reaching out into the gloom of your bedchamber and threatening to engulf you whole.

It is in the black of night, when the darkest sky is overhead before dawn begins to break, that the void fills you the most. Sobbing has long ceased to ease your emptiness, so you lie in your feather bed, high in the elven city, and think of him, your lover's phantom figure nestled into you, fingers tracing your sides while whispers of sweet nothings pass between you. At least for a moment, you are not alone. Sometimes you swear you can hear him plain as day, your mind soothing your aching heart with memories of his scent pricking your nose as if he were right there beside you, holding you close as he used to, centuries ago. It is with those memories, those fantasies, that you think of him and touch yourself as he loved to, hand between your thighs, dancing across your chest, on your lips, needy for more.

He was quick to anger, and his wrath was nigh unchallenged, but never had you suffered it. The most gentle words and soft touches were reserved for you alone, revered and exalted in his bed, protected from the carnage his master had wrought on your kind. His soft hair grazing your face as he held himself over your trembling form, caressing every inch of you for the thousandth time as if it were the first.

You feel him next to you, on top of you, surrounding you, the smoky metallic smell of the forge permeating your bedsheets as if he'd spent these long, lonely centuries ravishing you. Your hand moves faster as you near your peak, biting back the deep moan in your throat as you picture him at the apex of your thighs, wicked tongue bringing you closer to your pleasure, tugging at your swollen clit and delving into your wet folds.

"All this for me?" You feel his smile against your mound as real as the pillow under your head. "My good girl, so ready for me, always so willing and waiting and wanting..."

His murmurs are lost to even your sensitive ears as he resumes his task, long fingers digging into your thighs so deliciously, nails dragging on your soft skin as you pull him closer, deeper, knowing he'd only beg if you refused him. Not that you ever would, at least not in jest, as you had many times before, just to see his hungry gaze grow dark and desperate. The games you used to play.

You slide a finger inside yourself, then another, always feeling him and only him, hearing him tease you as you whine for his cock.

"Good girls beg for it, my love. Are you my good girl?" You keen at his words and nod your head frantically, his fingers tracing your slit, dipping in and out at his pleasure, as he holds your gaze and fuels the fire pooling deep in your abdomen.

"Please... only yours, only for you..." Your words tumble from your lips, as a wolfish grin spreads across his handsome face.

His hands knead your flesh as he grasps your thighs to pull them apart, reverently taking in your dishevelled state, your blown pupils and swollen lips a masterpiece even Eru himself could not have imagined. His perfect creation, soft and pliant and oh so needy for him; any semblance of self control is lost as he takes his cock in hand and drives deep inside you with one thrust.

He steals every breath from your body with ravenous kisses that leave you clawing at his back, filthy wet sounds filling the air as he ruts into you, claiming every moan and whimper as a victory to his cause. You cry out his name, his real name, chanting it like a prayer, as he purrs in your ear. He pulls you apart with every touch, fingers raking through your hair, cursing in Black Speech as his orgasm approaches.

"I want to hear you, love, I need to hear you as I make you mine," he growls in your ear, low and deep, reverberating through you as he buries himself within you as if he means to never resurface.

You're only too happy to oblige, your moans unleashed from your throat as you no longer attempt to stay quiet, uncaring if anyone should hear you now. His name falls from your lips over and over as you plead for your release.

"I will make you my Queen, my love, and all Middle Earth will worship at your feet as I do," he praises you, his promises falling on deaf ears as you edge closer to what you crave.

He bites at the soft skin of your throat, licking the sheen of sweat that has collected thanks to his efforts, like a man starved of water at a desert oasis. The stretch of his cock inside you is almost too much but you take it so well for him, and he is a loving lord after all, one must be rewarded.

With one hand behind your head supporting his weight, his other hand travels from your swollen nipple downwards to your clit, circling the nub before pressing and stroking just as he has so many times before. He picks up the pace and slams his hips into yours, almost brutal in his all-consuming lust for his Queen.

You see stars and the world falls away, your walls clenching around him as he collapses onto you, the two of you entwined in body and enjoined in soul as you dissolve into pleasure, the spring that had so deliciously coiled deep in your belly finally releases, and he kisses you so sweetly you forget your own name.

As the first rays of sunlight peek through your window, you gasp, the spell broken. The bedsheets are rumpled and your fingers are wet, but the warm body that had encompassed your own only moments ago had vanished into the ether. The scent of the forge lingered long after in your nostrils, filling your heart once more with longing that could not be satisfied with one night's pleasure.

The yearning of the void was always present, and its black embrace was oh so tempting.

[kruegerspillow]

krueger who always always always asks to cum in you at least once before he leaves your place for whatever reason he’s there. tells you he wants to be leaking out of you for a bit, lets you overstimulate him during the act as a thank you even while he’s scratching your thighs up asking if you haven’t had enough yet :>

FUCK YEAAH A KRUEGER ASK !!! and omd anon he'd totally do that. he just neeeds to see you dripping with his cum for absolutely no reason.

minors dni! nsfw under the cut :3

Krueger's no selfish man.

But, when it comes to you? He just can't help it. He needs to devour you whole, to make you as his and only his. Fuck, he wouldn't even let another man look your way. And, this time, it's no different.

The bed softly creaked beneath you as Krueger pushed you against the mattress, desperately crawling over your body. He lifted his mask up before his lips crashed onto yours, pulling you into a feverish kiss as that tongue of his slipped into your mouth. He groaned, a string of curses leaving his lips in between the kisses. He'd missed you dearly and you can clearly see that.

"You're all mine." He groaned, his voice sounding breathless.

You let out a choked moan in response, feeling his lips parting from yours. His hands travelled onto your panties before he pulled them down, nearly ripping it in the process.

"Krueger— fuck. Don't you dare rip them." You warned him, resulting in a quick, muttered apology.

He licked his lips, looking down at your leaking cunt before diving in like a dehydrated man. His hands gripped your thighs, keeping them opened wide just for him. A small moan left your lips as his tongue worked on your tight hole, feeling the way his nose was pressed up right against your clitoris. His hips grinded against the mattress, his aching cock seeking more friction.

"Mein." He grunted, "you taste so good— so... so sweet, mein liebling. Fuck, I missed you. I missed your fuckin'— taste."

His tongue pressed against your clit before his gaze shifted towards you, seeing the tears in your eyes. He almost felt... proud of himself. Your hips bucked up into his mouth, a small signal of your climax. The grip on your thigh tightened, and you were sure he was going to leave a nasty mark.

"Kru— Krueger, I'm gonna— fuckfuckfuck please don't stop." You pleaded, throwing your head back before your hands shot up to his hair.

A small whine left Krueger's mouth as you reached your climax, his tongue still lapping on your weeping hole. You gasped, thighs shaking from the aftershock. Your breaths hitched before Krueger shifted, propping right on top of you. Your vision blurred before you came down your high.

"Need... need to feel you inside of me, please." You whined, reaching up to his jeans.

"I haven't prepped—"

"I don't care, I— shit, I can handle it."

Krueger hesitated, pondering for a moment before he felt your hand reaching up to his jeans. You pulled the zipper down, your hands slipping into his boxers before you slowly stroked his needy cock. A strained noise left Krueger as he bucked his hips into your fist.

"I need to prep yo—" Another whimper.

Your free hand pulled both his jeans and boxers down, revealing his angry, leaking tip. Krueger groaned softly, burying his face into the crook of your neck. His hips matched the rhythm of your strokes, and, just before his climax, his hand shot up to your wrist before pulling them away. Krueger pulled away from the crook of your neck.

Your eyes widened, taken aback by his sudden move. You were completely oblivious of the fact that he was about to cum already, from just a few strokes, though, you let him catch his breath.

His hand let go of your wrist before it rested on either side of your head. His chest rose up and down, catching his breath before he rammed right into you.

"Fuck!" You moaned out, followed by a gasp.

Krueger's head immediately perked up at your exclamation, pulling himself out of you before looking at you with a hint of worry.

"Liebling, fuck, are— are you alright?" He murmured in between ragged breaths.

Without giving him a reply, your hands went up to his chest before gently pushing him right against the headboard. His eyes widened before you slammed him back inside. A moan left his lips, feeling his composure break down as you rode him.

"Scheiße," he cursed underneath his breath.

His hands instinctively went to grip your ass, feeling the way you clenched around him in result. He whined, tilting his head back before his hips bucked up in an erratic rhythm.

"Bitte," he whimpered, pausing for a moment to catch a sharp breath. He grunted as you chases his climax. "Bitte, please, cum with— with me. Let me— cum inside. I need to cum inside, bitte."

And you let him.

His hips bucked one last time before he cummed inside of you, spilling his seed into your needy cunt as you orgasmed together with him. You continued clenching around him, riding him through his climax as he whimpered out of overstimulation.

"Fuck, y'haven't had enough yet?" He groaned, moving his hand to your thighs to dig his nails into them.

Your movements slowly came to a half before you pulled him out of you, dropping right beside him as your chest rose up and down. His hands let go of your thighs, dropping back onto the bed.

"Danke, fuck, thank you..." He murmured softly, his gaze shifting to your exhausted state. He huffed softly before his hand made its way to your hole, making sure that not even a single drop of his cum leaves your hole.

"You did so well f'me..." He praised.

You shuddered at the sudden contact once again, grunting softly before his fingers softly thrusted into your hole, feeling his cum going right back in.

Maybe a round two won't hurt...

kruegerspillow © 2024 ➵ do not feed my work into ai, repost or translate my work. Reblogs are much appreciated ୨ৎ

[mrzombielover]

real price hours tn

NSFW warning! f!reader, porn no plot

“yeah, just like that… goood girl…” price groans as you take him fully, taking a large puff from the lit cigar he dangles. you whimper at his words, making him chuckle as he exhales smoke in your face.

“oh, you like that, huh?” he laughs, free hand running down your waist and coming to grab a fistful of your ass. “dirty girl…” you squeak as he slaps your ass.

you mewl when you start to move, letting out a shaky breath as you bounce agonizingly slow on his cock, still adjusting to the stretch. you throw your head back, a soft moan slipping past your lips as you wrap your arms around his neck, letting a hand run through his hair and grip at the roots. he chuckles again, rolling his hips into you, drinking in every whine and gasp and moan that you give him. he takes another puff of his cigar, hand trailing from your ass around to your hip to rub soft circles into your clit. you keen at that, head falling forward onto his shoulder.

"captain!" you whine.

"shh, shh, baby," price shushes you gently, softly connecting his lips to yours as he breaths smoke out his nose. he swallows your moans as you let them into his mouth, and you feel dizzy against him as you roll your hips, greedily chasing the electrifying pleasure. you quiver around him, reduced to a whimpering mess as you're stretched out around his fat cock. he's all you can focus on, everything else dissolving but his length inside you and the smell of his musk and cigar.

"so perfect for me," he mumbles against your flesh, placing kisses before softly biting your neck.

"captain..." you moan again, bouncing sloppier now, more desperately.

"please!" it's almost a sob. you don't exactly know what you're begging for, but the plead leaves your lips anyway like a last prayer. Price laughs dryly, letting his eyes slip shut and head fall back against the headboard.

"you're so pretty when you whine. poor baby, you cant do it alone?" he teases, rolling his hips against yours. you moan louder now, falling forward slightly as he starts to fuck up into you. your back is arching against him, barley processing his words.

"come on, sweet girl," he says softly in your ear, his thumb on your clit making you throb and squeeze on him, hands searching for something, anything to grip on to. "thaaat's it.. just needed my help, huh?" he says soothingly as you dig your nails into his back.

"oh, god!" you squeak, letting a strangled cry into his ear.

"fuck! I'm gonna-" you cut yourself off with a loud moan, all strength leaving your body as Price thrusts up, repeatedly abusing your g-spot. His fingers dig into your hip, other hand clenching his cigar so hard it nearly crumbles in his grip, but not a single part of your brain cares about that now. The orgasm hits you in shaky waves, reducing you to a throbbing, soaking, shaking mess as it washes over you.

"yeah, good girl," He says softly, pressing a kiss to your temple as his pace slows. He takes one last puff before haphazardly dropping his cigar into the ashtray on his bedside table, not even giving you a chance to catch your breath before he's fully lifting you up and flipping you onto your back.

"can you give me one more, baby?"

[ry0ubakura]

[veggiesforpresident]

thinking about the differences between tos spock and aos spock

the other day i read a post about how tos!amanda grayson is like not the worlds best mom, like shes clearly kinda fed up with vulcan culture, and we know sarek disapproves of human culture despite being. you know. married to one.

but then in aos amanda seems... much kinder? like she tells spock she'll always be proud of him even if he undergoes kohlinar. and i think tos!amanda wouldnt like that at all! and aos!sarek even admits to loving her!

which makes me think about the differences between tos and aos SPOCK bc like tos spock seems soooo ashamed of his two halves and aos spock is like waaaaay more chill about it to the point of dating a human woman and saying essentially "earth is the only home i have left". which yeah is a big flaw in the writing but from a character pov it just makes me wonder like how his parents personality changes affected their son so much

and like tos spock goes to starfleet academy bc he wants to be a scientist, whereas aos spock partly goes bc he didnt like the vulcan science academy insulting his mother. which feels like a p significant shift to me!