#but stretched too much and weakened when soaked

[softlypause]

Views from Mount Umunhum

#with bonus rainbow! #nature #hiking #my photos #mount umunhum #no photos at the summit alas - shrouded in clouds and too rainy for me to take my phone out of its protective ziplock #loved the rain though!!! <3<3<3 #forwent my raincoat so i could feel the rain <3 #left bootlace snapped in two places during my descent #fortunately only half mile from my car #ah leather laces - comfortable because they’re slightly stretchy #but stretched too much and weakened when soaked #so i had to retighten them but then they snapped when i yanked too hard #will replace with paracord for tomorrow’s hike until i can get new laces

[frenchkisstheabyss]

♡ 𝔸𝕟𝕕 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕪 𝕎𝕖𝕣𝕖 "ℝ𝕠𝕠𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕤" ♡

♡ Mature Content! Minors DNI! Warnings below the break ♡

♡ Pairing: ot8!boyfriend!ateez x chubby!fem!reader

♡ Summary: A nice, calm, wholesome movie night with your boyfriends except I lied and nothing but absolute filth happens.

♡ Genre: smut with a sprinkle, a smidge, a barely visible flake of plot

♡ Word Count: 3.6k-ish

♡ Warnings: (issa lot happening so pls lmk if I miss anything) masturbation (f), use of toys (f receiving), oral (f & m receiving), anal penetration & eating (f receiving), unprotected sex (ya'll know not to do that irl!), creampies, edging, double vaginal penetration, things get rough, scratching, gagging, pet names (good girl, bad girl, slut, le usual)

♡ A/N: I wrote this with the intention of writing this soft, romantic piece but my mind got lost in the gutter and built a home there so here we are. Thanks to @anyamaris for supporting me in my nonsense as she always does.

Even with the air conditioner on, a wave of heat washes over you. Two fingers---your fingers---press firmly against your clit. You know your body better than anyone in this room. Every flick of your wrist makes your walls clench around the vibrator Hongjoong’s fucking you with. The ultra-soft silicone curves to rest its flat tip directly on your g spot. He keeps it at medium speed, the low hum of the toy a hypnotizing instrumental to the weakened moans leaving your lips. “You’re so beautiful” he whispers, delicately kissing your thigh. And you are.

Lying in the middle of your living room floor on a pile of the fluffiest pillows, you’re the prettiest thing any of them have ever seen. The plan had been to watch a movie. Horror---comedy---who cares? How could they watch anything but you? Legs spread wide. Pussy weeping, begging you to keep going just like that. Your panties, moist beyond measure, are looped around your ankle. The tight plaid mini skirt you wear is pushed up, not denying them a bit of your plush belly. Your nipples are two, tightly beaded indentations in your black crop top. They brush against the cotton each time your chest rises, turning you on even more.

It’s getting harder to play with your clit. Your muscles are tensing like a rubber band stretched near its breaking point. Your wrists are going limp. Your legs are shaking, causing your thighs to jiggle so deliciously that Hongjoong can’t resist nibbling at them. What he loves, what gets him off the most, is simply to watch you make a mess of yourself. “Mmm, Joongie. I’m gonna cum---” you gasp, arching against the pillows. Hongjoong’s laugh is nearly undetectable but you hear it, oozing lust. He’s happy with himself and with you. Pulling the soaked vibrator from your core, he pushes three fingers into you.

“Cum for me, princess. Cum around my fingers.” Hongjoong moves your hand away from your clit, wrapping his lips around it in a small O shape. Your arms fall above your head, your head turning to catch Yunho staring at you from the couch. Yunho looks spaced out. It’s as if his mind is off somewhere far away but that couldn’t be further from the truth. His mind is on you and no one else. It's fixated on the way your eyelids flutter when Hongjoong suckles at your clit. It’s committing to memory that sweet little smile you shoot him right before you lose control of your body. 

Hongjoong’s been edging you for an hour all for this moment when he can finger you hard and fast, tonguing your clit as pleasure rips through your body. You’re grabbing at nothing---at anything---to ground yourself but it’s no use. “Hongjoong. Fuck” you whine, struggling to find your breath, “I can’t. Too much. Too---fuck.” Wooyoung rises from his spot on the recliner to kneel above your head. “Let me help” he coos, kissing you on the forehead. His fragrant sable locks dance around your cheeks like curtains, shutting out the rest of the world.

Smooth hands massage their way up your arms, loosening your muscles as they tighten. Fingers press into your shoulders---tickle your collarbone---traverse the arches of your breasts to circle your nipples. Woo slips your shirt up, laying his hands flat on your breasts. He kneads them, pinching your nipples in his palms. “Woo---” you moan, “Joongie---ah.” You mindlessly writhe beneath them. Hongjoong’s knuckles are grinding against your slit. His fingers---they’re so deep---spreading you open even wider. 

Woo smiles down at you and there’s something so genuine about it because it is. “He’s right---” he says, “You’re so beautiful.” Woo drags his tongue across your lips just as Hongjoong’s tongue swirls between your pussy lips. There’s an audible squelching sound when his fingers pop out of you, the suction of your walls holding onto him for dear life too relentless to let him go quietly. Hongjoong gets up on his knees, sucking at his fingers, and admires the way you’re still clenching for him. He’d edge you more---keep you like this all night---but he knows he has to share.

With one last kiss which he plants on your lower belly, he leaves you in Woo’s capable hands. Woo reaches over you to run a finger across your slit and you giggle at how much it tickles. When he leans forward you get a clear view of how hard he is and catch yourself salivating. You bring a hand up to rub against his bulge. A groan emerges from somewhere deep within him, “Bad girl.” Still a tad loopy from your orgasm, you fumble your way up onto your knees. “But you love it, don’t you?” you tease, your hand reaching down to rub against him again.

Woo nibbles at his bottom lip, pulling you closer to him. You run your fingers through his hair, tucking a rogue strand behind his ear, “Up.” One word spoken in the singsong voice of an angel such as yourself has him up on his feet without question. Just as you reach for Woo’s zipper, strong arms grab you from behind, locking you in their embrace. “Choi San!” you gasp, admiring that dimpled grin of his, “I’m kinda trying to focus here---” San kisses down your neck, dipping one hand between your thighs.

His other hand cradles your chin, fingers pinching into your cheeks, and turns your head back towards Woo where a throbbing cock, arousal moistening the tip, waits for you. “Then focus---” San says, lightly squeezing your cheeks. You let your tongue fall free, resting it on the underside of Woo’s cock. Rolling it around his sensitive tip, you collect the warm salty liquid on your tongue. San lets go of your cheeks, giving you the room to bring your hand up and grip Woo’s base. You glance up at him and he’s already fixed on you. They stay that way as your fingertips trace the veins traveling up his shaft, stroking back to his base and starting all over again.

San raises your ass enough to slip his cock between your thighs. Somehow he’s even harder than Woo and you haven’t even touched him yet. “You wanna fuck me, Sannie?” “Hmm, is that how we ask?” he growls into your neck, grinding against you. Poking your ass out, you lay your head back onto his shoulder, “I want you to fuck my tight little cunt, Sannie. Please.” San grips you by the hips, sinking into you with zero patience. A vibrator has nothing on San’s cock. Woo tangles his fingers in your hair, sliding his thickness between your lips.

Bobbing your head back and forth, you suck your cheeks in---fan them out---mimicking the exact thing your pussy’s doing to San’s cock. It’s a flawlessly choreographed dance between the three of you. San bucking his hips, feeding you every inch. You rolling back against him, taking him like a--- “Pretty little slut---” San’s panting, the slobber dripping down your chin from sucking Woo off making you look like exactly that. Woo holding your head steady while you pump his glistening length, your hand and mouth working together to put his stomach in knots.

With Woo stuffing your cheeks, your screams are muffled when San picks up his pace. “Is this what you wanted, baby?” he says, slapping you on the ass. “Mmpphh” is all you can manage, Woo’s cock hitting the back of your throat. Woo and San bounce you back and forth, whispering praises that have you back on the edge in no time. Your hips stutter, cluing San in that you’re close, and his pace becomes unforgiving. Woo scoops up one of your breasts, pinching your nipples, feeling their weight in his hand. “Don’t stop---shit---y/n. So good. Don’t---” Woo twitches between your lips, pumping his seed directly down your throat.

Never one to be wasteful you drink him down, massaging his balls with your free hand. “Fuck---pussy’s so good y/n---gonna cum” San hisses and you’re cumming again. He cums with you, ropes of white painting your insides from the other end. Woo leans forward, kissing your puffy lips, “I’ll get you some water.” “And a popsicle please.” Woo and San look at each other---back at you---at each other---back at you. San straightens out your skirt, “What for?” Your gaze dances over to Seonghwa and the two of you immediately begin to blush. “We---uh---” Seonghwa stutters, “Don’t worry about it.”

Yeosang politely moves Woo and San away from you. “Excuse me. Sorry” he apologizes, moving between them to sweep you up into his arms, “We’ll get the water.” It’s not that you don’t know Yeosang can pick you up but every time he does you melt. Yeosang carries you toward the kitchen and Seonghwa’s right behind him. “And the uh---yeah.” Jongho hops up to follow them, pushing through San and Woo with zero of the politeness Yeosang offered. “Thanks though” he grins, patting Woo on the shoulder, “But not really.” 

“Oh my---that’s---that” you gasp, pleasantly surprised at how much you enjoy the sensation. Seonghwa bending you over your dresser and swirling a popsicle in your asshole wasn’t on your 2023 bingo board but he has you wondering why it never was. The chill of the popsicle is calming in a way. You were overheating for a bit there but now? You feel tingly all over. With the popsicle melted and your thighs coated in drips of sticky, strawberry syrup, Seonghwa goes to work licking it off of you. His long tongue trails up your left thigh---down your right thigh. It comes back up to your ass, nibbling at the plush cheeks and making you squeal. He stays there for a second kissing them, massaging them, tickling them with the tip of his tongue.

“Hwa---mmph” you moan, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he tongues your candy-coated asshole. Imagine having an itch. Not just any itch. One of those itches that makes it difficult to focus on anything else. One of those itches that refuse to be ignored. But you can’t reach it. No matter how hard you try, your arms just aren’t reaching until---oh god---you finally do. You scratch it and it’s so good that your legs could give out. Nothing, not a single thing, compares to how uniquely amazing that feels. That’s what it feels like to have Seonghwa making figure eights in your ass like his tongue's a professional figure skater.

While you’re bent over seeing stars, he maintains a shaky hold on his cock. Each stroke is slow and deliberate, in sync with yours. “Fuck, you taste so good” he mumbles, fully prepared to smother himself if it means tasting as much of you as possible. You hear a moan you’ve heard a dozen times before. Seonghwa tries to suppress them when he cums even though you wish he wouldn’t. Usually, he hates being messy but his cum has already glazed over his hand and the afterglow is heaven. “Fuck it,” he says to himself, falling across the bed. Spinning around you come face to face with Jongho. “Hey ya cutie” you beam, poking his cheeks.

Sometimes people say that he’s scary, mean even, but when you look at him all you see is your cuddly bear. You drape your arms over his shoulders for support, “Your turn?” Jongho effortlessly lifts you onto the dresser, kissing you like he’s been waiting forever to do it. And he has. “My turn.” He presses the head of his cock against your clit and there they are again. The hot flashes. That thin layer of perspiration on your skin. Jongho grabs your arms, pinning them behind you, and drives into you. “You’re still so wet.” “Not still” you whisper, “This is just for you.” Jongho thrusts into you and you’re full again, his cock much thicker than you remember.

Your exhausted muscles can hardly hold up to being fucked this hard but you don’t have to worry about that. In his arms, you don’t have to worry about anything besides feeling good. He could keep you steady all night if Yeosang weren’t snatching you away, tossing you on the bed. “Yeosang!” you shout, sliding back on the bed, “You can’t just throw people around like that!” Yeosang climbs on top of you, pushing your shirt up, “I can’t?” He brushes a thumb across one of your nipples, lapping at the other as his fingers massage your breast. “You can---shit---do it again” you surrender between shallow breaths.

Yeosang slips into you, his cock pulsing in time with each rise of his hips. His defined arms slip beneath your body, hands locking just behind your back. When he flips you over on top of him, it’s like your whole world’s been turned on its side. He bounces you up and down in his lap, the tremors traveling far behind your core. Just as he picks up a rhythm Jongho tears you away from him, propping you up against the wall. You’d make some smartass comment about Jongho not being good at sharing. If only there were time enough for that.

His arms are already tucked behind your knees, supporting your weight as he fucks you against the wall. “You’re such an addictive little slut, you know that?” he says, and your heart flutters. You just love when he sweet-talks you. The angle he has you at is perfect for stimulating your g spot. He’s bumping right up against it and you’re clamped down around him, as addicted to him as he is to you. “Can I borrow this?” Yeosang asks, peeling you away from Jongho and tossing you back onto the bed. 

This time you’re on your knees. All fours is simply out of the question with how completely destroyed you are. “Are you just gonna toss me around all night?” you whine, burying your face in the blankets. Seonghwa lays his head beside yours, nuzzling up to you. “Of course not” he assures you, his voice warm and comforting, “I won’t throw you around when I have you. A light roll maybe---” 

“Pirates! Cowboys! Biker gangs!” you mumble incoherently, jolting awake. Shaking off those incredibly strange dreams, you realize that you’re still in bed. Judging from how dark it is in your room, it’s well past midnight. You must’ve fallen asleep after what your aching muscles are telling you was a wrestling match with a bear. A barely awake Yunho tightens his arm around you from behind, “Cowboys? I’ll do anything for you but I am not putting on a cowboy costume.” “I will,” Mingi yawns, cuddling up closer to you from the other side, “I get nice boots. Probably a cool jacket. Ooh, some guns---”

“There are no guns!” you interrupt, “When did you two even get in here?” Yunho shrugs, “A few hours ago. You never came downstairs and we missed you.” The “we” he’s referring to is obvious when you notice how hard he is against your back. “You fell asleep on us” Mingi pouts, a hand running up your thigh to squeeze your ass. You drape a leg around his waist, smooching him on the nose, “Don’t do that.” “Don’t do what?” Mingi pouts even more, knowing how soft you go for him when he does this. “That! You guys are both being so---” “So?” Yunho asks, his long fingers reaching between your legs to stroke your pussy. 

You shiver at the contact. Having Yunho behind you, his cock pressing into the small of your back, his fingers teasing you, makes your heart race. Mingi spreads your thighs, giving Yunho more than enough room to curl his fingers into you. “Finish what you were saying.” “I---uh---” “Uh---uh” Mingi mocks, petting your cheek. You move to playfully slap him but he grabs you by the wrist, kissing you before you can even consider trying anything else. Yunho eases a third finger into your core, “You like it when I play with your little cunt, don’t you?” “Mm-hmm” you hum, lidded eyes glossing over.

Yunho stays focused on tapping your sweet spot while Mingi hypnotizes you with his lips. Mingi has you so drugged, so completely entranced, that you don’t even notice when one of Yunho’s fingers is replaced with his. It’s not until there are four of them inside of you, two of Mingi’s and two of Yunho’s that you feel the difference. Feel the intensity of the stretch. “I think she likes it” Mingi grins, rubbing his thumb against your clit. Yunho follows suit, slipping a thumb into your ass. “Fuck---yes---Yunie---Mingi---mmm!” you cry out, so overstimulated that your eyes begin to water. 

They grind into you harder, forcing out screams louder than any you’ve made tonight. “Please---inside of me---wanna feel you. Both of you” you whine, so lost in how badly you want them that you don’t realize what you’re asking. Mingi slides his hand out, smearing your juices between your folds, “Aah, she’s adventurous tonight. You sure you can handle that?” “I-I can. Ah, shit. I need it.” Yunho spreads his fingers in a V, rolling them around inside of you, stretching you from every angle. Mingi brings the head of his cock to splash in the juices leaking from your needy core and Yunho pulls out of you, focusing instead on freeing himself from his pants.

For a fleeting moment, it occurs to you how fucking insane you are. Mingi and Yunho at the same time? It’s not only the thickness, it’s the length. You wonder if you have a death wish. Mingi guides himself into you, only the first inch, sending shockwaves through your system. If this is how you die, you figure, at least you’ll die happy. Yunho spits into his palm, moistening his length before he brings it to meet your already occupied slit. Mingi slides in another inch or two, keeping his cock flush against the roof of your walls. Yunho raises himself into you, taking his time to watch for any signs that you’re uncomfortable, “Let us know if it’s too much, okay?” You make a little squeak to acknowledge how nice it feels to be protected, even when he’s in the process of tearing you in half.

He begins to slide up into you, pausing to let Mingi push in a little more, then taking his turn again. It’s a toe-curling, lip-biting back and forth to get them both inside of you. Once they are, you're falling apart, screaming, digging your nails into Mingi’s arm. Pulling his shirt up over his head, he gathers the material and shoves it in your mouth. “We don’t want them to think we’re killing you.” You’re so full, stretched beyond your limit, that only one of them can fuck into you at once. There’s no room for anything---or anyone---else. You belong to them. “You’re always worth waiting for but shit” Mingi grunts, his length throbbing, as much as it can given the space.

There’s moisture on your cheeks. You’re crying. Not from pain. No. That initial sting gave way to pleasure once they were both finally inside of you. You’re crying, drenched in your own tears, because parts of you are shifting that you didn’t even know could. Every stroke has your ears ringing, your heart in your stomach. You feel heavy and weightless all at once. The darkness of the room swallows you while somehow managing to be blindingly bright. There’s an explosion somewhere inside, releasing the building pressure. You’re at your peak again, legs kicking like you’re dangling high up. It hits you hard. So hard that you’re not breathing. Breathe, girl, breathe!

Just as you catch your breath and think that you’re maybe---maybe---coming down, Yunho's filling you up like a donut. Mingi pulls out, tapping his head against your clit as warm cum sprays against you. Correction: Filling you up like a glazed donut. The three of you collapse, unable to do much else besides make a series of broken noises. “Hmph mmm mm hmph,” you say? Scream? Mumble? Mingi throws his arm across his chest, understanding your incoherent huffs, and takes the shirt out of your mouth. You pat him lovingly on the head, “Thanks.” 

Readjusting yourself on the toilet, you rub the partially melted popsicle between your legs. This is nowhere near sexual in nature. You’re just in desperate need of relief from how sore you are after the day’s events. “Aah, yup, that’s the spot” you sigh, “Seonghwa really was onto something.” “Was I?” Seonghwa asks, rubbing his eyes. You jump a bit, startled by his sudden appearance in the doorway. Seonghwa stretches, dragging his feet into the bathroom.

As adorable as he is in his pajamas, his hair a complete mess, seeing him right now isn’t ideal. He shakes off the sleep, taking his time to process what’s going on. “Is that a---” “Ssh, if you tell anyone---” Seonghwa’s cheeks turn rosy, a smile spreading across his face. He takes you by the hand, bringing you to your feet, “Come on.” “Hwa, hold on, do you think? I wasn’t--no. No!” You reach back to drop the popsicle in the sink but Hwa pulls you along. “Hold onto that.”

#ateez smut #ateez x you #ateez x chubby reader #ateez x y/n #ateez x reader #ateez ot8 #ateez oneshot #hongjoong x y/n #mingi x y/n #jongho x y/n #yeosang x y/n #yunho x y/n #seonghwa x y/n #san x y/n #wooyoung x y/n #chubby reader

[love-toxin]

Being fucked stupid by Jacob and Nick just before they turn is one heavenly mess of rough jealous sex but after they turn?

You're too weak, to feeble, been manhandled and fucked to your absolute limit to run, both of them snarling and circling you, and you're just waiting for them to kill you but they don't.

Both of them sniffing the air as they circle you, they want to kill you but you smell so good, you smell like them. So stuffed full of their cum that their animal brains switch you from food to mate.

Now you have two horny feral werewolves fighting over you. They definately truely physically fight over you but when you try to escape, and nearly do, they sort of resign themselves to sharing, in a volatile and violent manner. You dare try do anything other than submit to them and you're getting shoved face down in the dirt, claws digging into your back until you go still. You're ending the night bloody, exhausted and definately infected.

GRAAAAAH THIS IS GREAT ALSO WEREWOLF LOVERS FIGHTING OVER WHO GETS TO BITE AND INFECT YOU BC ITS A TERRITORIAL INSTINCT GGRHEHEHRRGRHRHHH ok im normal now. anyways

yes. hot. weakening each other in their bloody scuffle only to realize that you're gone from the place you had fallen, nothing but a little wet patch in the dirt and some pearly, sticky substance left behind. but they can follow it by the smell, and when they get close enough they spot you braced against the trunk of a tree, hunching over, your legs trembling and soaked and your hand clutching your belly as more of their cum spills out of you and shudders wrack your body. you're close to the lodge now, but not close enough. all it takes is one of them pouncing on the ground behind you and you're on your knees again, a terrified shriek echoing through the woods as one of them startles you and you see the other prowling towards you on your other side. scramble to your feet and run and it only makes you weaker, one of them--you think it might be Jacob, but you aren't sure--brings a clawed hand down on your back and forces you face-first into the dirt. and you're shaking, tensing up, waiting for them to rip into you with those huge teeth, you think it's coming when Nick approaches and starts sniffing your neck. but he doesn't, not yet, because his tongue is what meets your flesh first.

they're not gonna kill you, you'll realize, but you'll have wished they would. being spitroasted and passed between them is much harder when they're bigger and stronger and more violent, the power struggle always stretching tight with the two of them until they start drawing blood from each other. plus, there's another much bloodier battle when it comes to claiming you with a bite, but when neither of them are victorious over the other you'll be reduced to tears and more screaming when they do it at the same time on both of your wrists. this way, it'll take both of them being cured or killed to break your own curse--and that's rather romantic, isn't it? just wait until they turn back into themselves in the morning, and you'll have so much to talk about with your new....partners in crime.

#jacob custos #nick furcillo #the quarry #jacob custos x reader #nick furcillo x reader #anons

[foli-vora]

day 3: threesome - dave york & frankie morales.

warnings: SMUT 18+ ONLY: use of belt around neck/slight choking, unprotected p in v, oral sex (m), spitroast, rough sex, rough oral sex, gagging, spanking, praise

a/n: 907 words. i just love them sm y'know? happy kinktober! enjoy!

It feels like he’s in your stomach with the way he fills you so fucking deeply, each stroke of his cock into your cunt smooth and strong, dancing along that delicious line of too much.

You’re unable to do anything but claw at the sheets, your fingers tightening around them until they start to ache and protest.

He tugs at the belt looped around your neck until your head comes away from the sheets and you’re arching away from the mattress, hands scrambling to find purchase to hold your torso up.

His hand presses firmly down on your lower back, fingers hot and rough against your sweat slicked skin and your lungs struggle to inhale a proper breath from the position he manoeuvres you into.

It only adds to the mind numbing ecstasy pumping through your veins.

“Let her breathe, York,” Frankie murmurs, and you hear the smirk stretching along his lips.

You feel the mattress dip in front of you and your eyes flutter open, rolling up to meet his as he kneels in front of you, watching the way your face pinches and slackens from the way Dave’s cock relentlessly hits against that tender spot deep within your walls again and again and again.

Frankie’s rough hand is wrapped around his cock, fingers tight around the thick length of it as he leisurely strokes it, and your tongue darts out across your lips when the tip beads with precum and spreads along his skin.

Dave chuckles deep in his throat and your stomach curls at the low timber of it.

“She can handle it – can’t you, honey?”

You swallow against the pressure of leather against your throat and go to speak, but clearly not quick enough for Dave’s liking.

A slap rings through the room and you jolt with a choked moan, the tender skin of your right ass cheek on fire from his palm. He brushes the sting away with tender fingertips before slapping your ass one more time, his eyes dropping to follow where his cock disappears between your ass cheeks.

Fucking soaked.

He feels how you gush around him, how your arousal practically floods his skin and soaks his balls as he plunges into you. He feels the resistance of your cervix on every thrust, the way your cunt flutters and tightens around him with each slick slide of flesh.

“You’re taking it so fucking well, corazón. Does he feel good?” Frankie’s knuckles trace the side of your face lightly before running his thumb along your bottom lip and rolling it down softly, watching the way the flesh moulds and rolls under his touch.

You try to answer. God, you try… but the words catch in your throat. It’s so fucking much. All you know is Dave and the way he fills your cunt to the fucking brim, pushing you to take the entirety of him over and over. All you know is how fucking good Frankie’s hard cock looks in his hold, the tip glistening in the lamplight, tempting you to just stretch that little bit further and steal a taste –

Slap.

You cry out, shifting on the pillow previously shoved under your hips and grinding into the soft feel of it.

“Answer him,” Dave snarls, looping the belt around his fist and tugging sharply.

“S-so good… so fu–cking good –” you choke out.

“Fuck her mouth, Morales.”

Your toes curl at the firm demand and Frankie physically weakens at the order, finally getting Dave's green light to touch you after being made to sit on the side lines and watch. He carefully shuffles forward on his knees and sinks lower until his cock presses against your lips, running the glossy tip of your lips.

You kiss the tip of it softly before parting your lips and letting your tongue roll over the silky smooth flesh, relishing in the tang of him melting into your taste buds.

He pushes forward, your lips stretching further around him until the tip of his thick cock meets the back of your throat. The heat of your mouth has him groaning lowly, and the deep coarse rumble of it shoots straight to your core.

You feel Dave’s fingers dig into the flesh of your ass from how your walls clench around him.

“That’s it, honey… that’s our good fucking girl.”

Your cunt flutters at Dave’s words, more arousal seeping from your entrance and flooding his cock, making the already obscene sound of him filling you filthier.

They fall into pace naturally. The solid slam of Dave’s hips push you to take Frankie’s cock deeper and you’re lost to the overwhelming sensations of being fucked each end, your mind struggling on who too focus on more.

Saliva builds quickly in your mouth, spilling from around your lips and down your chin as Frankie’s pace starts to quicken, forcing his cock deeper and deeper until it breaches the feel of resistance at the back of your mouth and starts to fill your throat.

It’s impossible to time your breathing to take him down your throat properly with Dave stealing the air from your lungs on every thrust, and tears fill your eyes and spill down your cheeks as you fend off the need to gag from every other forceful push of Frankie’s cock.

“Take it, corazón,” Frankie breathes, “just a little more, okay? Just a little more. You’re doing so fucking well, baby, so fucking good for us –”

-

I had to stop otherwise I would've carried on for another fucking 2k words and these are meant to be fucking drabbles godamnit lmaoo. Reminder: taglists will not be used for kinktober. I’m tagging every fic with #foliskink22 if you want to follow along for the ride!

#foliskink22 #dave york x reader #frankie morales x reader #dave york x reader x frankie morales #dave york x f!reader #frankie morales x f!reader #dave york x f!reader x frankie morales #dave york x you #frankie morales x you #dave york x you x frankie morales

[dyrewrites]

In Fog -- 5

Wretched it would make me, damnable, perverse.

I said none of it, nor thought it, not then.

It knew all the same, knew me, so well it knew, read the prickling of my skin as if it were poetry in braille. And I shivered with its touch, whenever offered, no matter how rough. They were still your fingers, your hands and while I struggled, oh how I struggled, with whether or not it was your will, your soul behind those cold eyes, I would gladly die a thousand deaths at those hands.

**

But would I cause it with my own.

It asked, while insisting it were you, had always been, it asked the unspeakable.

Your beautiful face twisted up so tight, so angry, as you sneered at the vermin. No, that is unkind. They were our peers, still at university, awaiting their final exams and tickets to their forever afters. We came up to them in the evening, in the quad—do you remember, love, how we hid beneath the willow there?—and it pounced without notice. Not to them or I did it signal its attack. Your face was buried in Fornel’s neck first and his screams. Oh, wretched thing I am to have enjoyed those screams.

He did not die, not yet. Lavinia ran but your legs blurred to catch her. I was tasked with restraining, but there was little need, they both felt your lips and teeth. Weakened then, from the meal it made of them, they wobbled and swayed as I wrapped the rope about their waists and chests...and the willow tree.

Our initials glared at me, so deep and dark and beautiful.

That was when death shined in your palm; a knife. I had no notice of it, no signal again of the fresh attack, and it was an attack. On me, it was, on my morals.

It wanted fealty in shared horror.

“Take it, end them,” It bid me, not commanding, but pleading with all the care you once spilled. But they were not injured birds, and what you handed me shone sharper and deadlier than any rock.

I refused, not with words but action, backing from it, from you. But your hand, as rock itself, gripped my arm and held me steady.

“Rocks,” your lips snarled at me, at them, “When we would not bend to their touch, these wretches pelted us with rocks. They meant to kill us, would have had we not found shelter. What mercy do they deserve that we did not?”

Shelter, it said, shelter...but did it know, were you in there and able to remember who offered us that shelter?

The smile told me yes, “I was hungry. Had I not been, he would have lived. I am your love, as you are mine, now as ever, and forever more.”

Echoed the voice, your voice, too sweet, to real, too you, my love and I—

They were asleep, or near to it, from the blood lost and the whispers I could not hear that it fed their ears. Near death, it said, you...it was you, how else could it have known what it knew. Why else would it have stopped its feast to touch the willow, to feel our initials in the bark...and smile?

Who else would do such things but you?

But would you ask death of me, would you have handed me that blade and bid me cut and cut until our letters were soaked red, our willow bleeding?

It matters not now, if you would, for your lips did then.

And I obeyed.

Oh, how they cried, how they wailed, I feared for the ears that would hear, that would descend from the woods and run to us. I hoped for them, prayed for them. I begged whatever deity could hear a sinner as low as I for someone to come, to end what I began, to lock us away.

My face made no such plea. It stretched eyes and lips alike. I felt it sticking in mad glee and twitching with every stab, every cry, every gasped screech I tore from their throats. I delighted in their deaths, my love, as much as the thing that wore you I delighted. With memories of their sneers, their rocks, their rough hands, their lips on our flesh, so insistent they could teach us to be how they wanted.

Normal, right, Godly.  

My love, I am shamed, beyond shamed not merely that I took their lives, that I brought death with my own hands...but that I reveled in it. I carved pieces of them out, and laughed as they begged me to stop, to let them die.

Their lives ended slow, too slow, spraying and burbling with their final gasps. And I wore it all, as a hot blanket I covered myself in that life, soaked in it.

I, I still feel the blood on my skin, under my nails, in my teeth.

It will never wash clean.

Your face after, your beautiful face, pristine but for what you supped, I will remember always. Pride lived there, full and bright it beamed, and I hungered for it.

We made new memories with our peers beneath the willow that night, terrible, beautiful memories.

#in fog #writeblr #snippet #writing #horror #tw: blood #lemme know if there's other things to warn of #my gauge is broken #horror romance #novella

[boytumms]

I've known for a while now that I'm carrying something alive in my belly. When the bump started growing I just had a sense that something strange was happening inside me. My tummy kept swelling day by day until I felt the first flutters of the life inside me.

It's impossible that I'm pregnant as I've never had sex. Realistically I know that this must be some kind of parasite. But I can't let go of the idea that I'm pregnant with a baby. I want one so bad. Admittedly, I'm getting carried away with pretending.

The more my belly swells with life and every time I feel it move within, the more love I feel for this creature. My friends try to convince me to see a doctor. They say I'm sick and it needs to come out. I know they're right but I can't help but put it off and tell them I'll go tomorrow or next week.

I don't want my belly to be empty again. I'm too attached. I love to cradle my growing belly and feel the kicks and bumps inside. I love it too much. I want this creature to be safe inside my tummy forever.

I wonder how long your body will be able to hold out, housing such a large, rapidly growing parasite in you belly must be taking a toll on your stretching skin and crushed organs... as you reach nine months, then ten, then eleven, your belly keeps swelling, struggling to keep up with the creature within you as it gets bigger and more powerful every day. Even if you wanted to see a doctor for help, its far to late. Your tummy is so huge you can't leave the house anymore, barely able to walk from room to room with how heavy you are.

Soon, you find you find yourself trapped on the floor, belly dragging painfully beneath you as you desperately try to reach the door to cry for help, crawling on your hands and knees. Your phone is dead and you cant reach it up on the counter anyways, your only hope is to scream and hope someone comes to your aid now. It's been almost a year since your belly started growing, and now the parasite has grown large enough to look like your overdue with quads.

As you try to drag your body towards the exit, you feel a sudden stab of pain come from deep within your tummy, and a gush of fluid soak your trembling thighs. Your body collapses on the floor and you writhe as a powerful contraction wrecks through your enormous belly. You struggle to roll onto your back, looking up at the mountain of writhing flesh. Its pulsing and straining around the thrashing creature, and you thrash with it, sobbing and screaming as it fights inside your belly, finally searching for an escape.

You clutch your tummy, rubbing and crying in pain, trying to sooth the parasite as you frantically push with all your strength. To your despair, nothing happens. The creature has grown so large, it would be impossible to give birth without it tearing your body apart, but you're so desperate to get it of your swollen belly you cant help but try. Red marks start to appear across your thin skin from the creatures limbs battering the inside of your tummy. It pushes upward from right under your navel, thrusting hard and throwing your belly into the air as you scream, watching your popped belly button bulging the tip of your tummy before crashing back down to the ground. Each thrust weakens your skin more and more, and you know your tummy can't hold on much longer.

Your cries for help have gone unheard, and you can taste blood at the back of your throat, either from how much you've been screaming, or your rupturing guts. The pain in your belly is only getting worse as the parasite gets closer and closer to bursting you, but your body is so exhausted your can barely move anymore. Each thrust has you seeing stars, and all you can do now is let out a strangled moan with each push. After hours of torture, your belly finally gives up. You let out one last scream of agony as your feel your flesh around your belly button tear, ripping down the sides of your battered tummy and freeing the creature inside you.

The last thing you hear is someone breaking down your door as your visions fades, catching a glimpse of the parasites bloody limb push from the wound before it all goes black

#ask #anonymous #mpreg #hyper pregnancy #parasites #body horror #horror pregnancy #bursting #belly bursting #writings #sorry i got really carried away with this oen #belly kink

[booksandchainmail]

Pale 7.x

“I’m not really very drunk,” she told him, sitting down beside him, and laying a hand on his shoulder.  “I’m other things.  If you’re tapped out, you and I could retire upstairs.  Work out the leftover restlessness and adrenaline of the day.”

OKAY. DID NOT SEE THAT COMING. big win for people who ship their teachers I guess? Though I'm assuming from the "Before" header that this is a flashback

Larry Bristow laughed at something.

I could have been calling him Larry this whole time...

Here, in a bar, late at night, the group of them gathered, her slightly inebriated, tired self was akin to a tiger stretched out in a sunbeam. The claws so easily protruded as she stretched.

... hot

Luisa Crowe choked on her drink.

don't think we've heard of her before. Or of any family members.

Just a week or two off of her latest hunt, she was willing and wanting to track down this Blue Heron Throne god, while Alexander did the legwork to bring them all together.

So this is how the school got founded. It's so weird to see them all friendly and relaxed together

Thoughtful and lost in thought. He was hard to get to know, and much of that had to be done not by reaching out or studying him, but by studying what he offered and what he asked, when he finally decided what he could ask that might be a good question. Seeking validation and respect in the opposite way to how Larry did. Too subtle, instead of too forced.

keeping this in mind as an analysis of Charles. Strange to think of him socializing with this circle of other practitioners. Does he miss any of them?

Charles looked bewildered.  “I mean I’m not a threat, I’m willing to help but… I know how cutthroat practitioner society can be, and I imagine hollywood or any other high society is the same.  I’d rather keep my throat intact.”

didn't really work out for him huh

“Smart,” Alexander said.  “I don’t think I’d have it in me to hold back on revenge.”

:(

Luisa looked troubled, like she was going to say something, but she was interrupted.

think I understand why Luisa didn't stick around with this group

“There is no police force governing us.  We’re still, generally speaking, in a wild west of practice,” Alexander said.  “If you don’t act with prejudice, you’re setting precedent.”

I think setting a precedent of not using overwhelming lethal force is a good thing

“Charles,” Larry said.  “When we were mid-job, you mentioned these special Others.” “Others, bound by rules, get certain leeway. If they must ask questions or must do certain things, like a revenant having a very specific path laid out before it, that’s… in our analogy of a bank heist, it’s the drill. It’s more solid, it has more force.”

I wonder if this applies to any of the Kennet Others?

"Figurines were soaked into the muck. I want one, but failing that, I want it gone.”

I'm assuming that this will unbind a goddess Durocher draws on for power? Would that just weaken her, or would the goddess then be out for revenge?

The Kennet trio send friendly Others home. He waited, studying the photograph for details. The inscription was telling. The phrasing. Not unsummoning, not releasing. Just… sending them home.

wild practitioners!

Black ink bled into the photograph, taking on three dimensions in the scene. “Abandonment,” Alexander said. “A connection severed.”

what will this do? Just pick a random connection to sever? Most obvious would be to each other, but I think that would need more effort. The word "abandonment" makes me think about their families though, and I'm concerned that how much they've been using connection blockers might backfire

A few out in these woods, like Lucy Ellingson, who was going for a walk, now severed from critical connections. They wouldn’t renew.

which critical connections?! all of them? Connections this could potentially touch on: Avery and Verona, her family, Kennet Others, people at the school. The last two don't feel critical necessarily (annoying but the other two can help). I'm worried that this will just have people forget about her entirely, hopefully not everyone and not irreversibly.

“The first option is that you tell me everything I want to know, then die by your own hand.  The second option is that you Awaken fully to this world and swear undying fealty to me in the process.”

these are bad options

He jerked, and for a moment, saw only stars, heard only raucous noise.  His eyes rolled up and his head turned skyward.

umm

“Go home,” John Stiles told him.

why is john suddenly here??? I guess he wasn't mentioned when Alexander spied on the girls sending people home, so maybe he's doing a search of the woods first?

“Yeah.  I won’t say anything.  I could help with the body, and the crime scene.”

did John kill Alexander?! I thought the bits at the end of the last section (jerking, head dropping, kneeling) was Alexander preparing some practice, but did he just get shot?

... hilarious if so. What a way to go, in the middle of his dramatic scheming

“His head-” Lucy said.  “It’s gone.  Cracked open.” She sounded so much like a kid.

:(

Lucy is getting so much gun violence-related trauma

John walked, long, quick steps, until he stood between her and the body.  He put a hand out to steady her, to keep her from pulling away or moving to a point where she could keep looking.

and I'm glad he's looking out for her. Honestly, John becoming Lucy's familiar is looking like a better thing the more we see

“It protects Kennet,” she said.  She was still shaky, but she stepped back so she could meet John’s eyes.  “That’s my responsibility.”

I mean it's messed-up to have a kid taking on that level of responsibility, but I do love this

“I was thinking about him being my familiar.” John remained standing where he was. He wasn’t sure he was supposed to hear this, but… “…Not so much anymore.”

oh. Or that. I suppose the corollary to having John as her familiar would mean she wouldn't have to personally do violence is that a lot of problems would be getting solved violently in front of her

... I wonder if that was the connection that Alexander severed

#booksandchainmail reads pale #pale #wildbow

[dragon-fics]

(Dungeons & Dragons) Hungry for Freedom (Themberchaud x Fem reader)

Chapter summary: For years, Themberchaud has slaved away at the mines in Gracklstugh... You want to change that

pt. 2

Please like and/or reblog to help share my work if you like it. One shot requests are open (x Reader) as are commissions on my patreon (as well as wee bonuses if you can afford. Thank you)

I had started working there as a teenager, trying to make some extra coin for my family. I wasn’t keen on it, I’ll admit. It was so hot and smoky, and it stunk so bad… at least one of my senses was always being abused when I was at work.

But the pay was nice.

And to be honest, I feel bad for him. All day, every day, chained up and forced to be the fire and bellows of their furnaces.

I know they pampered him. Subdued him with spells and potions. Offered him the best of food and trinkets to keep him happy.

But he was a dragon. A beast. A mighty animal that would’ve been worshipped and feared outside this underground city. Surely he must mourn that freedom, if he’s even aware it exists… To get out there and use his wings for once. Hunt and pillage and conquer as a wild dragon should.

Yet here he was… smelting steel for weapons and armour. All day, every day. He’d been here for longer than I’ve been alive.

It seemed beyond cruel. Even if he would eat us first without hesitation if he was let loose. That was natural, what he was built to do. Not this slaving away for us, the heart and soul of Gracklstugh.

I think that was the worst part, seeing him day-in-day-out, thinking about him every night. Bringing food and treasure to him, pampering him with the best of things throughout the day, never set my mind at ease.

“You can’t worry about it too much, sweetest,” Mother said as I limped to my seat at the table. “It’s not your place to worry over it. That’s the council’s job. They do what is best for everyone. Dragon included.” She served me my dinner and kissed my head.

I stared at my meat and spuds. They didn’t worry about him, though. He was the fuel, fire and bellows for their forging. That was all he ever was. “And what if he snaps? The first thing he’ll do is lash out at us! Even the little guys like us!”

“Obviously it won’t get to that,” Jack, my brother, said, leaning his hand on the pommel of his sledgehammer. He worked in the mines below. The mines that supplied the metal for the forges. The forges the Wyrmsmith heated. “They have their fancy mages and shit.” He got up from his seat to sit across from me, darkened fingers locked together on the varnished oak table.

Mother tended to the stove, pretending not to listen. I knew by how she purposefully, slowly and repeatedly scraped the serving spoons on the pots that she was dawdling.

I crossed my arms and huffed. Neither was listening to me. I saw daily how much more alert he was getting. How much quicker his gaze landed on me. How his tail twitched, and his nostrils flared when I placed cuts of meat in his bowl or a new trinket in his hoard. Each movement happened swifter than the day before and more often. His body shifting more with each week—stretching his too-small wings and flexing his talons as he recognised me.

Their hold on him was weakening. Did the council themselves know though?

Nothing eased my thoughts. No amount of “pampering” him daily helped. One day, he’d do more than some twitching and my bones would be his toothpicks.

Filling his bowl was always the worst part. Sometimes he was gone when I left him food, tending to the forges, and expected his breakfast or dinner or whatever after his hard work.

This was one of the times I was slower, or he was back quicker, because I felt a sweltering breath on my back and sweat immediately soaked my spine. The hairs on my neck stood on end, and I slowly turned around. The portcullis landed with a loud clang, shaking my body, and a gigantic shadow fell upon me with two ground quaking thuds.

He was there. Hundreds of tons of red scales, fat, and unused muscle staring at me with huge narrow pupils.

My blood ran cold, and my limbs trembled. My fingers dropped the giant pot of meat I had held clanged and bounced on the floor. But his eyes stopped me from hearing it. He had my full, undivided, terrified attention.

The Wyrmsmith slowly tilted his head and sniffed at me, his nostrils sucking in my tunic, and body. I stumbled onto my knees. He stared at me for what felt like a long time. I felt my lip quiver.

I was about to be his snack. And nothing was going to be left of me. No crumbs. Just my grieving mother and brother. It would be quick, at least.

“You are small,” he finally said. He voice was rather raspy, unused, but youthful.

I was startled out of my silent trembling state. “Wh-What?”

Wyrmsmith sat down his huge body, my body leaving the ground and landing back down. loose coins and trinkets hopped in their piles and slid off. He smiled at me. “I know you! You bring me tasty food and sparkly treasure!”

I nodded, trying to get myself stable. “Y-Yeah. That’s me. Just… doing my job to keep the mighty Wyrmsmith happy and well-fed.” I bowed; arms outstretched on the ground. My leg went numb from the pressure it was under.

He tilted his head again, the chained collar around his neck jingling. “Well… thank you for serving me. The meat is always so tasty and tender.” He nodded, chain clinking again.

I looked up at him and straightened up onto my knees. He had similar shackles on his ankles. They were all connected to the ground of his nest, but the length of the chain let him cover enough distance to get to the forges and back. If he tried to fly though, the length of the chains wouldn’t be short enough to stop him from destroying the Pillars and burying the entire underground city further.

“You do us a great service, Wyrmsmith,” I inclined my head.

He hummed and leaned his head down as far as he could, holding it a few feet above my head. I tensed. It was all over.

“Themberchaud.”

I looked at him. “Huh?”

“That’s my actual name. Themberchaud.” He smiled innocently.

“I’ll remember that for next time.” I had no idea why he was telling me. Maybe I was the first person he’d talked to? The first to listen to him?

Themberchaud looked around. “Here. Take this.” He offered me a filigree bracelet with a ruby set in it, sitting in his giant scarlet paw. “It’s special!”

I stared at it. I’d never seen something so beautiful… so expensive.

And he was offering it to me.

I turned my head up to look up him. His eyes were wide, innocent, persistent. “Take it!” He nodded eagerly and dropped it in front of me.

I snapped my head down to look at it, my mind and face numb. “Thank you.” I smiled at him and bowed, picking up the bracelet carefully.

Themberchaud’s tail tapped on the ground in delight and his clapped his huge meaty hands. “Wonderful!” He moved himself aside and scooped me up in one hand. He hobbled over to the tiny door I came through. “You’ll come visit right? Talk to me again?” she turned me to face him.

His big golden eyes looked so sweet, so lonely. “Of course. If I’m allowed to linger a bit, I will,” I smiled. Deep down, my heart ached for him. I knew that feeling, that wanting for a friend. A connection. “We’ll talk as soon as possible, Themberchaud.”

He beamed and placed me by the door. I heard some footsteps come close to the ledge overlooking Themberchaud’s nest. The mages had returned to make sure he was sedated. I limped forward and closed the barred door behind me. “I’m (Y/N) by the way,” I whispered, though the mages couldn’t hear me.

Themberchaud nodded. “It was wonderful to meet you, (Y/N).”

As I made my way home, I stared at the bracelet. It’s special! kept ringing in my head. How was it special? Why did I deserve it?

Should I sell it?

That thought kept whirling around in my head. All my money issues could be dealt with in one go. I could be independent for once in my life. Be seen as a whole person in society and to my mother. I would only ever be her disabled child. Now I could be free of that. Be my own person.

But those eyes. Those big, wide, hopeful golden eyes…

I clutched the bracelet to my chest and stopped by our house door. I couldn’t sell it. It meant something to him.

For now, I would keep it and hide it.

Mother was frantic about me when I stepped in. Slamming me with a dozen variations of: Why are you late?! Where have you been?! Do you have any idea how worried I was?!

I shuffled to the clothes rack, hanging up my cloak. “I just took a different way home. I’m a grown woman, Mother. I’m fine—”

“And what would have happened if you fell?! We wouldn’t know where to find you!” She grasped my shoulders and stared at me.

I wriggled, her thumb digging in just under my collarbone. “Mother please! I just wanted some time alone!” Backing out of her hold, I stumbled as my leg gave in. I rested on the doorframe and held out my hand to stop her from fusing. “I’m fine!” I repeated, standing up and moving past her and Jack before either could grab me.

They both tried to follow and talk at me as I stormed to my room. Mother continued to pester me through the door. I refused to respond, looking at the bracelet Themberchaud had given me. Its ruby, on closer inspection, looked like it had a dragon’s eye engraved in the metal. It was as though Themberchaud himself was watching me. I kind of liked it.

I slipped it on, and it tightened to fit around my wrist perfectly. I frowned. “Oh? That’s… weird?”

Before anything else could register, my mind went to a completely new image. Like a dream you’re aware of. First, I saw warm golden light, then I saw a large red shape come into view. A blob. A strangely shaped blob…

The red “blob” come into focus. It was Themberchaud. Sitting rather proudly in front of me, but he was the same size as me.

“You’re big now!” he grinned. “You’re wearing it! That was quick.”

I stared at him, very confused. I tried to look around. It looked like his nest and hoard, but a lot smaller. “Uh… hi?”

Themberchaud tilted his head. “You seem tense.”

“It’s my first time… experiencing this.” I gestured around me.

He nodded. “Yeah. Me too. This didn’t work as I thought it would. But I like it. Now we can talk whenever!” His tail tapped excitedly. “I’ve not had anyone to talk to.”

I looked down. “Alright… But maybe it won’t be all the time? I enjoy time with you Themberchaud but… I… things are complicated at home and I’m not free all the time, you know?”

His gaze and little wings dropped. “I understand…”

I bit my lip. “But! I can talk now if you like? I could use a conversation.”

Themberchaud tapped his tail on the ground, his wings perking up and flapping excitedly. I wondered what he looked like to his onlooking “guards”. Was he a chubby dragon chatting to thin air?

He chuckled, picking up on my thoughts. “No silly! I’m asleep right now. A nice nap after your delicious delivery.”

I nodded. “Ah. Okay. That makes sense. So, what do you want to talk about?”

We talked for hours. He had a deep interest in pottery and seeing how things were forged. He’d not seen it much, though. I promised him one day I’d try to bring him some pottery sometime. Themberchaud seemed pleased at that. The house was dark and cold when I woke up. All our lanterns had been put out and the fire in the range was now a smouldering stack of red coals.

I grabbed a quick snack to eat, a midnight sandwich to ward off my hunger until morning.

We talked for the next few weeks. Each day I saw him, I knew the magic to sedate him was getting weaker. He was more alert, even when the mages were holding the spell. He pretended otherwise, per my instructions.

“They need me though!” he huffed and crossed his chubby arms. The mages had dropped the spell while they changed shifts, letting his mind and body be free. As free as he could be in this underground nest, chained to the floor.

I bit my lip. “Yeah, but… Thember if they know you’re alert, they might use a worse spell. Or… they might kill you.” I looked down.

He sighed and pouted. “Well, that’s not fair! I’ve worked for them since the day I’ve hatched!” He slammed his tail on the ground, and I stumbled. The Pillars shook and dust fell from the ceiling.

“E-Easy Thember,” I soothed. “Don’t cause a panic or they’ll definitely make things worse.”

Themberchaud huffed again and nodded, letting his body ease. “So, do I keep acting dead inside?” He lowered himself down and offered a paw to use as leverage. I held on and stood up, leaning on his digit.

“I don’t know yet. Try to for a bit longer and we’ll try figure out something… Maybe we can try get you out of here and free?”

He perked up and lowered his voice. “Free?” he echoed; pupils wider than I’d ever seen before.

“Yeah. Free. There’s not really a much better option.” Marching footfalls came from above. I sighed, exasperated. “We’ll talk later, okay? I’m sorry.” I made my way towards the door.

“Bye, (Y/N),” Themberchaud whispered, following me before I closed the door and gave him a small wave.

My (physical) least favourite part of coming to work—apart from the stench, heat and sweat—was the stairs. Walking was a daily struggle, hobbling really. So, you can only imagine how much of a nightmare stairs are. And they were narrow, steep, helix stairs to get in and out of Themberchaud’s nest. The worst kind.

At the top, I was met by one of the councilmen. I barely knew any of them. This one was the oldest, which didn’t say much as most died young living down here. Dust fucks up your lungs.

“Are you the Wyrmsmith’s feeder?” his curly grey and black beard bounced with his words. I believe he ran the mines too or owned them or something. He looked like he worked there, with his huge shoulders, chest, and thighs.

I nodded, bowing my head. I lingered my gaze on his red-dragon scale belt and bracers. My jaw tensed.

“You’re granted permanent leave.” He crossed his arms.

I snapped my head up. “B-but—!”

“Don’t worry, you’ll be paid for the next month or until you find work.”

I chewed my cheek. “Yes sir,” I muttered and bowed my head as I turned away. I walked, dread weighing down on my chest. Once I was out of sight, I leaned on a wall, trying to draw in long breaths to stretch out my chest. We needed to act fast. I needed to save him.

The following days were slow. No amount of communicating with him helped in any way. Neither of us new the tunnels. There were very few ways out, none of which was big enough for Themberchaud. He’d bring down something if he tried to walk down the streets, through the slums or close to the Deepking’ Hold.

I searched everywhere. Every map of Gracklstugh, every natural light source. Nothing worked. I even tried the Shattered Spire and the docks. It was the opposite side of the city and, of course, would be useless to us… but I needed to try.

I figured I’d stay a while, curled up the most hidden snug there was. I knew Themberchaud needed me.

“You’re a lot farther now,” he said quietly. He looked defeated, curled up on his plush pillow.

I tapped his head. “I’m trying everywhere I can. There was some hope… but it’s pretty useless now. Unless you fancy flattening all of the slums and Darklake,” I quipped dryly, sitting beside his giant head.

He turned his eye towards me. “It could work?”

I chewed my lip. “We’d kill thousands…”

“They’ll kill me!” he roared and jumped to his feet. He was much quicker in his dreams.

I avoided his stabbing glare. “We’ll figure something else out! we have to.” I leaned my chin on my knee. “I nee—”

“(Y/N)! Answer me?!”

I was brought back to my body; shaken against the oak bench I’d curled up on. I swatted away my interruption and looked at them drearily. “Huh? Fuck off!”

I heard a warm chuckle as they sat beside me. My mind returned, wrapped in cotton wool. It was Jack… of course it was Jack. “You had me worried!” he sighed in relief and kissed my head. Warm light, the smell of beer and the light chatter of the tavern washed over me.

I allowed it and stretched my arms up. “What’re you doing here?” I rubbed my face to ease myself into it all.

“What are you doing here?! Especially with your—”

I shot him a glare, “I’m perfectly capable of walking, brother dearest. And if you must know I was in the area looking for work.” I turned my head away and huffed.

I saw his gaze drop from the corner of my eye. “I know you’re well able to. I just… is it so bad for your brother to worry.”

I slowly exhaled. “I guess not… Why are you here anyways?”

Jack shrugged. “After work drinks. You should get home though. We both should.”

I glanced at the clock above the bar and nodded. It was rather late, and Mother was sure to flip her shit. “Yeah,” I sighed. “Let’s go.”

He shuffled out of the booth and offered his hand to me. I slid after him and held it as I anchored my cane on the ground. I knew I’d need it with all the walking today. Standing up, I winced. My leg was burned and faltered under my weight. I leaned on the armrest of the couch, not wanting Jack to worry. “After you,” I forced a smile and gestured towards the door.

When I turned my head to him, his face was deep in a frown. Jack’s gaze drifted down to my legs. One rested on the curved leg of the table. He dipped his head slowly, fingers digging into the wooden handle of his hammer, and strolled out alongside me. He stopped outside the door, dodging some tipsy tavern-hoppers.

I grimaced at the stench of them and stepped aside as Jack went down an alleyway. A loud thud and creaking of wood on stone came from him down there. Before I could look, Jack shoved a large crate out onto the street. He tapped a large hand on it. “Up.”

I was about to question it, but I obliged, in too much pain to risk walking. Jack carried me home while I held his hammer. The street lanterns guided us home. As he walked, the streets lacked faces, chatter, and animation. Only drunkards, night watchmen and evening workers on their way home.

I rested my head on Jack’s shoulder. “Do you need a break? I can walk now.”

He shook his head. “I’m well able to carry you home.” He gave me a smile over his shoulder. “So, why were you actually on this part of the city?”

I stared at the patterned carved and burned into the hammer’s handle. An endless knot I’d given it on one boring evening. I couldn’t do this alone. “I need your help with something big.”

*~*~*~*

The bells rang loudly. The Pillars trembled. The stone above was cracking.

And Themberchaud was bellowing. Louder than I ever could’ve imagined.

I writhed; my ears were under so much pressure that the Pillars wouldn’t be the only things collapsing soon.

Mother pulled me close. Jack was far away now. I hoped he was okay… that Themberchaud would be okay.

Then came the fire. The brightest, yellowest light I’d ever seen. An agonising screech of metal followed, and then his mighty shadow. It was projected onto the ceiling above his nest and stretched out onto the walls of his cavern, blocking out whatever light he’d started.

A pit opened in my stomach as I saw Themberchaud clamber over the walls of his enclosure, knocking a Pillar with his huge shoulder. As it crumbled onto him, he looked back, rock bouncing off his back.

“Come on! Get out!” I muttered and squeezed my arms to keep myself focused.

He did his best to run and jump, racing his big body out of the cavern and towards the Shattered Spire. But to get there, he’d have to pass through the slums. Thankfully everyone was evacuated and standing in the south-eastern cavern. He came to a halt at the first line of houses, something flying off his back and flopping to the ground. It was Jack, sweating and exhausted.

Themberchaud looked around nervously as he heard the mages’ calls from his nest. As Jack shuffled towards us, Themberchaud snapped his head to look and spotted me as I reached to help Jack.

“I need you,” came his loud voice. I was about to look at him when he wrapped his paw around me. “Please,” he begged in a hushed tone.

I chewed my lip and glanced at my family in the tunnel, then at the largening shadows of the army of mages. “O-okay. I’ll guide you out.”

#dragons #dragon #dungeons and dragons #dnd #themberchaud #chonky guy #chonky derg #x reader #on shot #dragon one shot #dos #fantasy

[callsign-magnolia]

CONGRATS ON 500!!!!!🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Alright I need a fluff to smut with my boy Mickey “Fanboy” Garcia, but he’s getting promoted to LC. She’s so turned on by him, so she teases him here and there at the ceremony and the dinner. They celebrate with their friends, but after their friends leave, they have their own private celebrations.

If there's one person I can count on to request Fanboy smut, it's you! 😂

~~~

The tension has been building all night. Mickey was finally being promoted to Lieutenant Commander, something he's been busting his ass to achieve for so long now. If there was one thing I couldn't help but stare at, it was Mickey in dress whites. Just the sight of him made me feel so needy, so of course I had to work my charms on him, which started with his pinning ceremony.

I could see his resolve weaken when I looked up at him, bedroom eyes strong. Any time we sat down my have was on his thigh, dangerously close to his hardening cock. I couldn't help but giggle at him. Every time I got close, he would grip my hand and fold our fingers together. I let him have his fun, but as soon as we got home I was on him.

I dragged him into a heated kiss, my teeth nipping at his bottom lip. "You think you're cute?" He asked, taking off his cap before he roughly gripped my waist. "I do." I snarked. "You do too, or else you wouldn't have married me." He just chuckled. "I married you because you're my best friend," His thumb and pointer finger gripped my chin as he walked me backward. "My biggest fan," I bumped into the back of the couch before he pulled me flush against him. "And my good girl."

I practically melted in his arms. He knows how much calling me that affects me. "Let me show you how good I can be?" I asked, and he smirked at me. I just took his hand and walked around the couch before pushing him down and dropping to my knees before him. He just grinned and watched as I undid his uniform pants, pulling his cock out and immediately running my tongue along the thick vein on the underside.

"Fuuuuck." He groaned out. "Congratulations, Lieutenant Commander." I said, meeting his gaze before taking him into my mouth. I slowly worked him in. Mickey was big in more ways than one, and I wasn't ready to choke on him just yet. "There's my good girl." I preened at the name, sitting a little straighter between his legs. "You like sucking on my cock?" He thrust his hips ever so slightly, nudging the back of my throat and causing tears to form. I could only nod and take him deeper. Eventually, I found a steady rhythm between my mouth and hand. His chest started heaving and I knew he was close.

"Stop." I immediately pulled him out of my mouth and looked up at him. "Get up here and ride me." He pulled me to my feet, and I straddled his lap. He grabbed his cock, nudging my clit and making me gasp. "No panties? Dirty girl." I smirked, hands resting on his shoulders as his lips found my chest. "Only for you." He smirked up at me. "I need this out of my way." He tugged on the neckline of my dress before he pulled the zipper down just enough to slide the dress down. "So much better." He said as his tongue darter out to brush against my nipple. I breathed as he slowly pushed his way in. "God, baby. You're soaked." I couldn't speak, too focused on how he feels inside of me, stretching my walls and filling me up. Once he was fully seated inside me, I sat still for a second, my lips finding his. "I am so proud of you, Mickey." I said, and he smiled up at me. "That means a lot to me, coming from you."

We soaked in the moment before he slowly pulled out and thrust back up into me, making me whimper. "God, I love the little noises you make for me." He muttered against my throat. I had one hand wrapped around the back of his neck, and my other wandered towards my breast, pinching my nipple. "Uh uh." He said as he grabbed the hand on my breast and moved to hold it behind my back. "My job." His lips wrapped around my nipple and I gasped. He decided to take advantage of our positions and start thrusting up into me. "Oh fuck! Mickey! Mickey!" My orgasm was building low in my belly, and it felt like my spine was on fire.

He let my nipple go before trailing his nose up my neck and nuzzling his face into my jaw. "Come on, baby. I know you wanna cum." He used his free hand to smack my ass and I cried out. "Cum on my cock, and I'll cum in your pretty little pussy. Fill you up like you love." My head was hazy, and I couldn't quite comprehend everything except how he was making me feel. The feeling grew stronger, and soon, I was crying out his name while my legs shook and stars filling my vision.

"That's it, baby." He thrust into me a few more times before his own release filled me. His head was thrown back as he twitched inside of me, and soon I collapsed into him. His arms went around me, holding me close as we just breathed. "I really am proud of you." I said, my finger drawing shapes against the sleeve of his jacket. "Thank you, baby."

🎉Celebrate 500 followers with me by sending in asks with a pilot and an idea!🎉

[mushroom-for-art]

Lmao here's some more in which @oogaboogaspookyman 's little bastard son briefly experiences consequences for his actions and then is immediately like oh nvm this could be interesting.

Breaking point

Splashing. Struggling. She'd been swimming for who knows how long really, the blue expanse of the ocean seemed never ending and it was cold all around her. Her head slipped under the water and with more and more difficulty she surfaced to gasp and splutter. It wasn't right. She hadn't seen or heard a single Wingull or had a single fish Pokemon brush past or offer help. She slipped under swallowing water, gasping coughing when her head surfaced, her arms weakening heavy like lead and her legs she could barely kick them to keep going, but she had to, there must be an end to all this some buoy or piece of land she could stumble upon and grasp onto. Maybe a Wailord would finally see her and offer her a ride, surely something would save her. The water washed over her face once more as she sank, she weakly kicked, managing to get her snout above the water, snorting an exhale before slipping under once more before she could gather a breath. She sank deeper into the water the coldness numbing her body and holding her like a mock blanket, water pooled into her lungs heavily as she attempted to breathe choking without air trying to gasp but unable the pressure in her chest crushing and uncomfortable as her vision faded into blackness as she drowned in the unfeeling ocean.

Her body dropped heavily onto the gray floor still soaking wet she coughed with difficulty water splattering out her nose and mouth uncomfortably as she desperately tried to breathe. The dark tail of the other Mewtwo swayed in thought as he watched her struggling too weak to move, he put his foot under her shoulder and somewhere between a shove and a kick flipped her onto her side into somewhat of a recovery position before she choked. He heard her coughing, he sneered at the sound as water was forced from her lungs. He floated away casually leaving her to shiver and splutter on the floor placing down a timer next to some others with an amused sound.

"Do you know how long you were swimming for?"

He asked knowing she'd be too busy recovering to answer him really.

"Roughly 45 hours."

He answered himself. Looking over the timers.

"Its fascinating actually, when you believed help would finally find you or you'd find salvation you were able to swim much longer, when you didn't believe help would come and you let that hopelessness devour you well you barely managed to swim 30 hours, just a bit longer than the average human."

He seemed fascinated by the results as he talked about the average, statistics and what it all meant, though she was barely listening. She felt his foot pressing down on her head and skull as his voice came back into focus as he pushed down to the point she was whimpering in discomfort.

"You're a hope driven creature. I can't wait to see what happens when you succumb to despair."

He slowly removed his weight after smirking down at her, he floated away again. He'd been doing that a lot lately, leaving her to recover or leaving her all alone in general in the bleak stretching gray space with only the corpse of her brother as company.

After what felt like hours she pulled herself up enough to drag herself over to where her brother was splayed on the floor, he smelt putrid. His guts were spilled out along the gray floor, they'd darkened to black adding a twisted contrast of color to the place they were in. She moved to pull herself to kneel, her hands shook as she carefully lifted his upper frame, something cracked, ripped and squelched as she carefully put his head on her lap, his eye had fully rotten away now and the other was hanging out only connected by a few nerves, most of the flesh on his face had scarred or been ripped away revealing muscles and bones, a lot of his body was starting to rot to black. Though she suspected it was partly the fault of the demon and his blackened eyes. She held her baby brother one hand delicately resting on his forehead, careful not to rip away more of his fragile damaged skin, the other loosely wrapped around him resting over his chest. She barely recognised him really, the color had faded from him, she couldn't remember what he actually used to look like anymore. The past few cycles had mostly been without him and she feared what that meant. She hung her head as all she could do was hold her brother while she could, her upper body beginning to rock back and forth trying not to let the anguish get to her, she wouldn't let that demon see her cry anymore.

The white two watched them from a distance, she was cradling what was left of her brother again and rocking. Something that had started to annoy him. It was pitiful really and in a way that made him angry. Truthfully he'd been finding it difficult to reanimate the body into decent condition to put it into the loop, while at the beginning of the loop he is always technically alive the damage to his body by the end of each loop had become too vast, while he tormented May he had tried to undo some of the damages. When he'd sent him into the loop previously his wounds would be coated in a black sickly substance that pulled his injuries closed like stitches and engulfed him to undo wounds. Unfortunately now when he attempted to do so his efforts would quickly fall apart reverting the body back to its corpse state and it simply blackened his organs and blood further. It seems he'd broken that toy far too much. He should have considered the consequences of destroying him within each loop every time but well it had been too much fun playing rough with him he hadn't really thought, besides he didn't think they'd have been so entertaining for so long.

He glanced over at May, he hadn't actually killed her in any of the loops and despite the copious injuries and no doubt mental traumas she was fairing well, in that she wasn't rotting on the floor. Some of her wounds had even slowly healed, would they be there in the real world he wondered or only in this other space. He looks at the dead one again, perhaps he should release him back to before this all started and he created the loop and other space, Matt was it? Well whatever he was called he'd be back to a point of no injury and could simply be grabbed again from that point bring a 'new' so to speak unbroken toy into the loop to start again. He did create this whole space as a consequence free experiment after all, he could easily do it again and again.

Perhaps this time he could end May's life and torment the living Matt with his failure to save his sister who has fought for years to save him. Hm. Tempting. Though he got the impression he'd quickly grow bored with Matt, he was young with little to no real world experience, he was a blank canvas and not in a good way. He'd probably break and give up far too easily. He scoffed quietly to himself, well at least one of them remained entertaining. He floated over lazily to the others, he could hear May doing her annoying whimpering and whining, it was a strange throaty sound like trying not to cry. He stood behind her as she rocked either unaware of him or choosing to ignore him, he tsk'd to himself reaching a hand to pull the corpse from her.

"Let me look at it."

He felt the pain shoot up his arm before he even heard the growl, May's teeth were sinking into his flesh as she snarled, her eyes frenzied before she clamped her mouth further around his arm her head thrown upwards before tearing downwards ripping away a decent chunk of his pale flesh as his arm was freed and he flew backwards to examine the damage. The white flesh and slick black fluid of his blood hung from her mouth as she continued to snarl in his direction, he twisted his arm to look it over as his flesh around the area stretched and regrew closing his wound as he coldly glared at her, the most unusual part was her refusal to spit out the mouthful she had which he assumed should have been her first response after lashing out. He sneered at her and growled in return showing his fangs in threat as he watched in some surprise as she swallowed, his blood still dripping down her chin.

"Vile creature. Look at you. What you're becoming."

He mocked coldly, noticing her eyes didn't shift to shame remaining wild and glaring.

"Recollect your senses girl. I wasn't threatening your meal."

He smirked, expecting horror at what he was implying. She looked away from him and he felt victory wash over him turning his back to her to plan what to do in retaliation for her thoughtless actions. He heard her mumbling presumably apologies to her brother, maybe he could torment her with his puppeteered corpse. A snarl. He looked over his shoulder in time to dodge the glowing sharpened claw of her hand that just missed his face.

He flew back, turning to look at her, her form seemed disheveled as she stood hunched over her shoulders tense, head hanging low both her usually blunt feeble weak hands covered in bright sharp aura. Her head lifted slowly to look at him over the rim of her glasses, her pupils were shrunken and almost erratic giving her a manic kind of demeanor before she lunged for him again, surprisingly quick on her feet she swung to slash him with her claws. Normally he would've stood and taken the hit, despite the aura slash was a normal move and his ghost typing and abilities meant normal wouldn't hit him, but he leant away dodging her wild attempts to attack him. She'd lashed out at him during a cycle that's for sure and expected. But never here. It was fascinating to observe really, her expression reminding him of the violence committed by her possessed form. As well, she clearly must have known Slash wouldn't touch him from her past experiences in the cycles gone, she knows she'll receive a major beat down from him and no doubt punishment. So why use it?

He grunted as her forehead rammed forward into his lower chest and it sent him backwards until he could regain composure. That hit him. And it hurt. He could see blackness on her remaining horn, the injured one long since finally broken off. He glanced at himself, she'd managed to cut him with her horn during that attack, either headbutt or takedown. By the way she stood looking feral still and swaying on the spot idly watching him he assumed takedown. There's no way she should've been able to touch him. He observed her, as she watched him, he watched as she moved, pacing still hunched and wild acting more animal like than intelligent. Maybe he'd finally broken her too. He noticed after a few moments she was tricking him into moving, she was now pacing in front of her brother where before she paced in front of the stretching gray. She was guarding him.

He looked past her at the body, he closed a hand behind his back, darkness creeped and wrapped over the body covering him in blackness before dispersing leaving nothing behind. She didn't notice simply going for him again for daring to look at her brother, he sent flows of darkness like lightning to strike her down, it hit her dead on and she slid backwards on her feet across the floor with a scream of pain, her hand touched the floor in regaining balance before bolting for him again with surprising speed. He just missed her fist which slammed into the floor where she had intended to catch his face and slam him into it, before her tail caught his side in a swing. The weight and force of it pushed him backwards as he grabbed hold of her tail and sent another shock of darkness through her body accompanied by purple ghostly clawed hands that ripped scratched into her flesh and burrowed into her wiggling under her skin before burning out as she stumbled in the agony.

He grabbed her second neck as she stumbled, yanking her head backwards painfully as she cried out screaming, her wild demeanor and violence seeming to falter. He grinned, rattling her and shoving her to look at the empty spot on the floor.

"Now, look what you made me do."

He felt her still before she tried to look around frantically and he squeezed forcing her to be still.

"He's gone now. Because you couldn't behave."

He mocked. In reality Matt was simply gone from the other space existing once more before this all began to be grabbed again in better condition. He shoved her forward away from him as she tripped and fell to the floor, he watched her desperately pat around hoping her brother was there just invisible but nothing remained. With nothing to protect he suspected her powers would switch off again leaving her defenseless, and he intended to make her regret what she just did. Even if it had been extremely insightful and entertaining, a real look into the violence she was capable of outside of possession. Did it perhaps mean the behavior of the shadow version was simply using the aggression May suppressed and was an extension and outlet? And now with it gone she had to bear it herself? He'd figure it out eventually and maybe eventually bring her brother back into the loop for good behavior.

He observed her desperation in great joy watching her trembling, shaking, scrambling to find any trace or evidence her brother was secretly fine. She turned and glared at him once more, much to his surprise, it seemed she hadn't learnt her lesson. That's when he noticed sparks and crackling from her chest, as an extended hand shot out to grab him only stopped as darkness wrapped around her body coiling around her throat to choke and restraining her arms, her fingers brushed his snout as she attempted to grab him the darkness pulling her backwards as she pulled forward, her mega form resisting his powers in a tug of war.

"Where is my brother?! If you've killed him! If he's dead!" She struggled her sentences short with both extreme anger and from struggling against the dark tendrils pulling her backwards. He was almost impressed as she managed to pull herself forwards pulling against the overwhelming pulling ropes of darkness. But he knew she couldn't win as more wrapped around her pulling her tail, her chest, her waist tangling her legs and wrapping around her head to pull her backwards painfully so.

"You'll what?"

He mocked simply watching her slowly but surely be pulled backwards and downwards through the gray floor into a new cycle. But she met his gaze as she still fought.

"If he's gone." Her expression fell unusually dark. "Then you have nothing to stop me anymore." She looked directly at him as her body was pulled down, only her shoulder and head visible. "Do you." It wasn't a question, it was a statement. She met his eye even as he stepped on her and shoved her through the gray flooring into a new cycle of torment. Something in her eyes telling him that things had indeed changed, the mania and threat of violence he was met with as if she was challenging him, becoming worse than him. He simply grinned.

This could be very, very, interesting

#My writing #my oc #Mewtwosona May #Mewtwo oc Matt #@oogaboogaspookyman oc #@oogaboogaspookymans ??? #Tw drowning #tw violence #Tw implied cannibalism #Tw cannibalism #Tw rotting corpse #??? Experiences consequences for his actions or as I like to call it you fucked up a perfectly good may thats what you did #Look at her! She's gone feral! She's entering her mania evil arc #Also this mother fucker really implied that May was guarding her deceased brothers body because she wanted to eat it #And expected no consequences. Bitch you fucking insane #There was meant to be an action scene of her tryna punch him in mega form and him doing the anime thing of jumping landing in her arm #Unfortunately I fucked up and accidentally wrote that out going this way instead #She was also going to threaten to fucking eat him. May almost got swear rights. And welp. Look at that she might be a cannibal now #Also matt is free now! At the cost of he thinks May going crazy violent is much more interesting so now he doesn't wanna bring matt back #Also how can May hit him even tho he's part ghost type and she's well. May. And using normal moves? #Uuuhhhhh?? Narrative bullshit mostly. Determination. Violence. #But also semi canonly I hc as having scrappy ability (even tho mewtwo don't get that sh I'm allowed) #And also she was possessed by synergy which is like dark type I think/despite being removed completely it's technically still there #Not physically but like that stuff was in her so long there's gotta be lasting affects so I hc as having some weird dark type synergy stuff #So a mix of lmao how tf do you have that ability and the left over biological affects of synergy #But mostly narrative bullshit! And because ??? Deserves a fucking smack #Holy shit ??? Actually has substantial dialogue this time XD he has MOST of the dialogue. And he uses it to be a dick

[gagrapessmutt]

Closing it down.

I didn’t think I’d get the chance to hug you. After keeping secrets all this time we couldn’t risk being caught fraternizing at work. We walk inside the now empty building and we’re alone for just a brief moment. Everyone else is outside. I tug your shirt, “You better give me that hug!”

I pull you towards me and bend to wrap my arms around your waist, but I pulled too hard and my face is right next to yours. Looking into your eyes deep, I brush my lips across yours before kissing you hard. I pull you so we’re now inside the walk in freezer that’s shut down. Maybe we won’t get caught here. You push back and APOLOGIZE to me but before you finish my mouth is on yours, my tongue encircling the white ball piercing your tongue. My hands move to your sides and I pull your shirt forcing your body into mine. I feel your breast and stomach pressing into my torso making me writhe, then I feel it. Your thigh tucked between my legs, my bulge pressed into you, now grinding into your thigh and hip.

I’m squirming and trying not to rub against you but even flicker of your tongue, every graze of your fingertips begin to drive tingles up my spine. I feel your hand move down and grab my throbbing bulge through my pants. It makes almost animalistic. Sending shots of pleasure and lust through my blood. Using my foot I swipe your legs apart, arching my back I push you harder in to the wall my kisses now traveling down your neck giving you love bites. I love one hand to your chin to position your head for access to your neck working my way to your collar bone, my other hand finding the seam on your leggings that’s covering your sweet craving womanhood from my fingers. I firmly place my hand there as I feel you slide onto me. I can feel your lips part under the thin fabric and your quiet mouth begins with whimpers, moans begging for my touch. “Be my good girl and grab me again”. My zipper is down before the words leave my mouth and I can feel your palm caress my shaft weakening my knees, but not giving out.

I’m already so close and I’m not ready yet. I grab your sticky hand, dripping with my precum and turn you around, your face pressed against the cold metal wall. The lights dim but I can feel you. Your round, firm ass pressed against my exposed cock, my hand on your hips pulling you into me. I run my hand along the waste line of your pants before plunging down the front. Your skin is warm, and makes my mouth water as I travel inch by inch until my finger meets your wet food. Putting finger in right past your lips in running in small circles. I feel you against me shifting and stirring, your little moans and panting in my ear. Everytime I see your mouth part I grow hungrier for your mouth and can’t determine where I want my tongue more, your mouth? Or flicking across your sensitive nub?

You struggle to turn yourself around and manage to get face to face with me. Your moaning is louder and I have to hush you “Don’t let anyone hear, I don’t want them to ruin this!” I whisper sharply. I stretch the tight pants and yank them down, just barely exposing you. “I wish I could take you right now, l need to feel you”. I pin your arms above your head and slide my cock between your wet soaked lips. Gliding back and forth just grinding into you. You start squirming but I keep you pinned. I lick your lips before biting your lip and continuing my kiss on your lips. I feel your thighs relax and spread as much as your pants allow. It feels like an earthquake inside the head, I feel like I’m about to explode and I’m so desperate to be inside you. “I’m going to make you such a mess to remember me by”. I reach down and grab your hips controlling your rocking. I feel your entrance burn just slightly with no way for me to enter you. You reach around and claw my back and that’s when I release. I spray my seed over your lips and your thighs. Dripping everywhere. I reach down inserting a finger inside you and bring it to my mouth sucking your taste off the tip.

I let you go and help you with your pants pulling them up tight against your body. Rubbing your pants directly over you lady bits I whisper “you’re going to feel my cum for the rest of this day and think about me.” With a firm pat I grab your hand and lead you outside with everyone else.

[multimusemonster]

@agapovheir a starter ! :>

In the past….

Davie wandered into the great house, the sounds of death and screaming had quietened down here. A path of blood and gunpowder trailed through the house, footprints showing someone was dragging a leg. He gathered his courage and followed the trail.

It was dark outside, and not even the neighbors peeked out their windows as gunshots and screaming echoed through the air. Minor tussels occurred a bit down the street as fighting still raged in his territory. 

The house reeked with the smell of recent death, as bodies dropped during the shootout. Not to mention the morbid trophies. 

Curled into a corner of the house, Casper D. Jackson clutched his gun. His grip grew weaker by the second, he struggled to keep moving. He had to stay awake. 

Wet squeaks came from his shoes as he pushed himself into a sitting position.

Silently he cursed them. Great taste, poor traction. 

He hadn't planned on getting dirty today. His clothing was soaked with rain and his own blood. He was determined not to let out when he died. Cas couldn't stand the thought of being buried while covered in shit.

He spit blood and giggled softly as his lungs wheezed in attempts to keep oxygen flowing through his flooded lungs. What a funny thing to worry about when you're dying.

Loud, steady thudding could be heard as Cas' vision faded in and out. He began to laugh, fear no longer prominent as his body began to die. The euphoria of blood loss came with a heavy price. He was next to delusional as his adversary came around the corner. Their gun hit the floor as their arm bled, a beautiful red.

"You sick bastard… sick fucking bastard."

Cas laughed as the man spoke, gurgling building in the back of his throat. His own gun clattered onto the floor as his hand shook too much to hold it. He huffed as his head drooped ever so slightly.

"No, I'm quite fine. Really."

 A blood drenched toothy grin met the man standing infront of him.

" 'ow's the wife n' kids, Davey?"

Davey snarled and grabbed Cas by the hair, pulling him off the floor. His eyes searched Casper's for remorse or fear, and he grimaced when he could find none. Davey should have known better. Cas chuckled again.

"I thought it was funny."

Davey dug his fingers into the dying man's wounds, letting his anger fuel his words. The sharp inhale and whimpering did not soothe his soul. Cas was still playing a game. His disregard for human life had once attracted Davey, but no more.

"Ya know what, Casper? I'm gonna make you regret this."

Cas patted Davey's shoulder, grinning from ear to ear. His eyes stared deep into his former muse's. Davey was red with rage, and quickly mellowing out to anguish. His were expressive and could be read like a book; Davey could hide nothing.

 Cas on the other hand… Not even the pain from his wounds being gouged registered in Cas' eyes. They were glossy, unfocused, but still sharper than a knife.

"Really? I'm dying, babe. This is the end, nothing left to regret. You on the other hand? You're gonna eat those words."

Davey threw Cas to the ground. His eye caught a glint to the right… The staircase.

"Ya know what, Cas? It is funny."

That was new… Cas wasn't expecting such a cold response. The euphoria he had felt was wavering due to the interaction. His focus had been pulled away. A tingle of something crawled up his spine.

Cas frowned as he was dragged towards the staircase. He fought as much as he could, but bloodloss had weakened him. Fear bled deep into his bones as his mouth was stretched over a step. 

"Eat this you fucking freak."

Years later…

Quaint, quiet, and usually unpatrolled by local police. Here in one of the few forested areas left in the city sat a slightly rundown house. The blue paint had greatly faded and peeling revealed a sturdy wood. Parts of the porch had been replaced, and the stairs had concrete poured along their posts. Heavy, unkempt hedges and various flower bushes dotted the front yard along with a few abandoned bikes. 

The front door was old, and clearly original. An inappropriate knocker rests against the center of the door. A doorbell had been installed, or at least an attempt was made. Exposed wires and scattered screws made a mess of the accenting table. It sat, stained with weather, beside an old wooden porch swing.

Entering the house would be a strange shift. It was clearly owned by someone who was wealthy at one time. Old money sat in the history of this place.

Understandably, the house had some partial renovation in attempts to change the strange layout of the original floorplan. 

The front door opened into a small half hallway that immediately led into a kitchen attached to a bathroom. That was to the immediate right. The left side of the house had been blocked off until someone tore down some of the hallway and made a door. That door led into another kitchen looking room, but it had lots of shelves and was marked as an office. It was a bit large to be just an office, though. 

The original floorplan had people enter the kitchen, walk past the bathroom, go into what was considered the living room, and then into the office. The office connected to a small hallway that led to another room that had a small linen closet, a strange dipped corner, and the staircase.

Up the stairs there were four rooms. A bathroom, a bedroom, a small office style room full of shelves, and another room that had strange surfaces built in. An example would be the windowsill being some kind of s-shaped seat.

Even the flooring itself had a strange color to it, and it seemed someone tried replacing it or covering it with rugs from the linen closets. It was a hardy wood, and had been taken care of.

The darkest wood in the house was the staircase and its final landing. The color was a deep cherry, and it had a strange path through the foyer and hall. It must've been that mahogany or cherry wood. It was kinda cute the way it led a path from the front door, the kitchen,  living room, and finally staircase room. The color getting stronger the closer you came to the stairs.

Honestly,  besides the house groaning and the unwelcoming neighborhood, there wouldn't be much to see wrong with the house. The man who sold the territory was a retiring mobster. He said he no longer needed the space, and had picked the family from a historical debt or something along those lines. Either way, it was waiting to be explored.

#rp #roleplay #au #agapovheir #Cas #ocs

[taavros-moved]

​time and the labyrinth were endless. he’d spent so long trapped in the silence and darkness of both, stretching on and on for infinity. nothing left but yawning hunger and the incoherence of his own thoughts; the vivid and terrifying hallucinations that plagued his fragile mind. the sort of deathless death only an immortal could suffer.

he’d thought it nothing more than a trick of his imagination at first --- a strange rumble in the earth, a haunting thrum through the stagnant air of the maze. different from the many earthquakes that had shaken the island since time immemorable. and then it came again. and again. until the fur on the back of his neck had stood and he finally dragged together enough pieces of his scattered thoughts to recognize it for what it was: magic.

the last thing that went through his mind before a bright flash, the sound of many voices chanting in a language that was familiar and yet not, the sensation of being yanked forward violently like being dragged out to sea by the tide. 

his surroundings were unrecognizable when he came to. robes, the pungent stench of incense and blood, startled cries of surprise and a rush of hands towards his body. too much. too much for him to comprehend, weakened and maddened as he was. it had only been his first instinct to charge. to bite and tear and gore with his sharp horns. just as he had done for so long in the maze. the pile of bodies that had swiftly accumulated at his feet were no different than all the others.

now, soaked in blood, the ripe flesh of an arm between his teeth, the creature once known as minotaur turns. face to face with @postguilt.

#postguilt #i could have made this longer but i tried not to lmao. you don't have to match length at all

[nvrcmplt]

//. @sidedcoins ~ Cont From.

How much yin energy has he consumed? It felt like it was never ending, year upon year, one meal a month - he couldn't tell you how many bodies have passed here. He stopped counting around two thousand. They all tasted great at the time, thick, some warm, some cold, some in pieces, some full but missing one or two limbs. It didn't bother him as his roots twisted through guts and orifices to get to the arteries and heart. Sucking them until pruned and breaking bones to get the marrow in a frenzy. Naoki felt little whilst underground, his leaves never blossomed pass budding on each branch. His trunk felt brittle and weak, one way or the another he'd break. The bodies piled up, bone and skin - hair with clothing. They turned to gloop, ash, rot, waste - things he couldn't consume, nor wish too. Nor could he bury them into soil to thrive off their spirits through roots.

Instead, they began a swamp of rage and wrath. Sorrow swallowed monsters of their own demise at the hand of the Aomori. It was a dark time, Naoki never knowing when it was morning or night, the door above didn't show him a glance of the sky. Just a wooden roof, just another body to be dropped into his grasp. Another yin filled being. He was getting sick of the flavour. He missed the yang energy, lighter, power, awake - the elements that kept all creatures sane no matter their alignment or meal choice.

Sickness was quick to grow on his branches in the form of moist rot, no sun light to dry it out, he mutilated himself over and over to rid of the infestation. Soon enough over the years, he made his own bedding of roots and branches. Mouldy and soaked through biological human corpse waste. Old blood, organ rot, flesh and bone scales. It was a zone of death - Naoki, though a monster of the war created from soiled grounds swamped in the blood of all. He couldn't thrive, he couldn't breath and so he seethed. He hated and held his tongue because no matter how loud he screamed and thrashed or reached for the door above - he was denied everything.

Instead burnt, set ablaze by a simple common. Charred and trembling from the agony, he screeched his name to make them stop and when it started. He knew he couldn't stop it - so he remained. Crawling back into the trunk of his own making and twisting back into its core. Feeding scarcely and left to rot. He just didn't think he'd sleep for so long. Wilted and withered with no strength. He didn't eat anything more from that day - so the bodies piled up, the rot grew, the blood stained, sticky and tacky, gel like with skin blackened and bone visible with visceral gore.

He stared upon his own hellish pit, witnessing the demise of himself and them, and with his last attempt. He released the energy in his core, letting it ooze out like a bleeding wound. Festering no more, he allowed his core to weaken, to empty itself as it clung to the walls and climbed - scratching and tearing wood asunder, until something finally replied. The door being smashed open and parted by the swing of arms. It made the tree yokai want to weep… was it time? Was this his death?

The thud rippled through his roots, the scent of new blood… It was like seeing an oasis in a desert and shamelessly did his string thin roots scramble - pushing aside old root and bones to dive in on the spat blood. Diluted with saliva, it mattered not --- no, not with how that speck of crimson travelled through his root like a cars' headlight in a dark tunnel until it reached the core. The reaction was like clockwork - yang, delicious yang and yin - a balanced being. Naoki's central trunk split down the centre and all but exploded from the being within it launching out with a screech, deafening and filled with nothing but rage.

"I will be your ruin!!"

His body, harm formed of twisted branch and root, an arm like club, deformed and heavy in fist with a spiked wrist. Torso, stretched like taffy from the tree's shadow as his mouth hangs open with no strength of jaw. Only displaying a spiral of teeth made to tear and drink morsel. An eye, white and blind, barks brittle and rotten, not a speck of it seemed normal, strengthened nor still. Trembling it was, as its second arm, that was more than a loose braid of three thick branches raced out to grip onto Reo's leg, hip and wrist, to pull him down - make him useless as his fist struck down with barely any power to crack the wood besides his head.

After all, the tree didn't want them to die, Naoki wanted them to suffer! Suffer just like he had, so as he rose his neck, extending it and opening up like some demented Venus fly trap of razor fangs and dry bark innards. The light of the doors would show the carved kanji of NAOKI on the ceiling, smeared in some blood but burnt well into the material with its making.

#« ( Naoki ) » IC. #sidedcoins #i got carried away but uw u #ENJOY

[dollwritesarchive]

𝐧𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐨𝐬𝐛𝐨𝐫𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬.

fandom marvel / masterlist

featuring mean!harry osborn x reader ( f )

rating none of my work is meant to be viewed by minors (anyone under the age of eighteen), and i will happily block any that interact with my posts or my blog.

content warning rough stuff, name calling, face fucking, just in general, harry’s a meanie.

word count n.a / headcanons & concepts

attention do not repost or translate, even with ‘credit’. just don’t do it. reblog instead of like. leave feedback if you enjoyed.

Harry’s a control freak, so don’t expect him to hand any over to you. he’s in charge, don’t forget that. if you do, he’ll be happy to remind you with a couple of slaps.

“Try that again. Go on. I dare you. See what’ll happen.”

you’re smarter than that, though.

you’re going to spend a lot of time on your knees.

Harry’s a hair puller, and a head pusher. he laughs when you gag on his cock.

“Aw, what’s the matter, fucktoy? Too much dick, already?”

and if you look up at him with tears in your eyes and nod, he’s almost sure to grip your hair, steady your head, and rock his hips. the broad head of him pushing past your throat barrier until he’s prodding uncharted territory and you’ve got your palms against his thighs. if you try to push him away, whimpering in defeat as saline soaks the apples of your cheeks, he’ll swat your arms away.

“Don’t be such a fucking baby. You can take it.”

“Yeah, put those arms behind your back and keep them back, unless you want me to take my belt off and bind them back there.”

“Your throat feels too fucking good not to fucking ruin like this.”

and leaves you in ruin is exactly what he does.

there’s no way he’s going to cum after just a little bit of foreplay, so when he feels like he’s close, when he’s panting and moaning expletives under his breath and your scalp is sore from the fistful of hair he uses to bounce your head up and down, he shoves you off.

you lose your balance, saliva drenching your chin and your bare breasts where your blouse has been shoved down around your waist, and you sputter, blinking several times to regain some form of coherency after being facefucked damn near to senselessness.

then, he takes you on the floor.

he likes when he can grab your hair at the crown and yank you into the position he wants, but his favorite is dragging you on to your stomach. you almost always press your cheek to the ground and arch your back as tight as you can, offering your bare ass in the air for him. he’ll give each cheek a rough smack, loving the sound his palm makes against your vulnerable flesh and how the force of the spank ripples through you, eliciting weakened yelps to slip through your slack lips.

“Look at you, posing for me. Sticking it out, begging to be fucked like a filthy slut. My cock’s got you trained like an obedient, little puppy. Well then, pup, let’s hear you beg.”

while you plead for him to fuck your brains out, he’ll get down on his knees behind you, and worm his thickness between your ass cheeks, willing to use any part of your body to please himself. all you want is to feel him stretching you open, but he’s perfectly content to get himself off between your globes just to torture you.

“Come on, puppy, whine! You’re my needy, little bitch so act like it and maybe I’ll give you what you want.”

“I can’t hear you. If you want me to fuck you braindead, then you better make me believe it, bitch.”

Harry’s standards are high, so he won’t give in until you’re screaming and your used throat is hoarse.

“That’s what I’m talking about.”

he’ll pat the back of your head to let you know you did good before he places the sole of his shoe against it, pressing your head into the floor and smearing your face into the pool of saliva you’ve allowed to gather.

“Filthy thing, making a mess of my floor. I’ll have you lick it clean when I’m done with your greedy pussy.”

and when he forces his way inside, your walls spasm around the intruder. the initial entry is none too gentle, ensuring you take him to the hilt with the powerful buck of his hips. you nearly come out of your own skin, hunching forward with a cry, but he only scoffs and presses one palm into your lower back, pushing you back into the arch.

“Where do you think you’re going, huh? Trying to push me out already? Go ahead and bitch and moan about how I’m being too rough, but your cunt is already gripping me so fucking tight.”

“Aw, it hurts? Boo-hoo, poor baby. Want me to stop? No? Then say thank you and take my cock like a good, little sleeve.”

you may be crying, tears mixing with the mess of spit and sweat on your countenance, but your whining has melted into lustful moaning, begging him not to stop, and you bounce back into the ruthless pace he’s set, too eager to feel him deeper than anyone ever has been before.

“That’s good. Fuck, cry me a fucking river, slut, you’re so pathetic, I love it.”

“What’s this, tightening up on me, huh? You’re going to cum, already? You can’t hold it for me, even a little bit? You can’t? What if I wasn’t asking?”

“Mm, but I do love to see you fucked out. Tell you what, I’m going to let you cum now. But then I’m going to make you cum again. And again. And again. Until you’re nothing but a quivering, whimpering, pile of fuckmeat. And then I’m going to pull one more out of you just because I fucking can.”

#harry Osborn #tasm harry osborn #harry osborn x reader #harry osborn x you #harry osborn smut #tasm #the amazing spider man #marvel #marvel smut #marvel x reader #marvel x you #dane dehaan smut #dane dehaan #dane dehaan x you #dane dehaan x reader

[elysianslove]

getting passed and railed by the msby black jackals: a guessing game 

as requested, here’s another version of the guessing game. there’s also an inarizaki version! let me know which team i should do next :)

the first to have his hands on you picks you apart calculatingly slow. his hands are large, pressing at your thighs, spreading you open for him, trailing up to your breasts, gripping and squeezing and pinching at them till you’re gasping for him. he spends so much time with his hand between your thighs, fingers buried in your cunt, until you’re crying, begging, sobbing for more, drenching his palm and the bed beneath you. when you’re properly fucked out from his fingers, he finally shows mercy, and pulls away, ridding himself of his clothes. his self control is strained as he approaches you, his cock hard and dripping in his hand while he strokes it. he wants to leave a mark on you, wants you to be sure you’ll never the feel the way you will with anyone else but him, and it shows when he finally sinks inside of you, teeth gritted and a hiss spilling as he gasps about how you were made for him. he has your legs wrapped around his waist, his hands grasping your hips, pulling you up as he fucks into you, hard and fast and deep. he’s reaching within you where you could never imagine, his cock long, hitting every spot that sends your sensitivity skyrocketing, weakening your resolve, forcing you to lose more and more of your inhibitions by the second. he’s already pulled out three orgasms from just his fingers, worn you out so much, that it’s unsurprising the third advances just as quick. you cry out and warn him, “gonna make a mess!” but he only spurs you on, lifting your hips higher, angling it to hit at that spot within you just as he rubs at your clit and you’re gone, squirting and making a mess of him, drenching your thighs and his abdomen. he doesn’t stop until he’s filled you up, until he can see your messy cunt soaked in both your cum and his. 

the second is eager, eager enough to carelessly fall to his knees between your legs as soon as the first steps away, grabbing your thighs and positioning your legs atop his shoulders, before he buries his face in your cunt. he laps and sucks at your folds, cleaning you up of any residue of the man before, and you want to cry at how humiliating and filthy it seems, it is, but he’s just so enthusiastic, so sweet, lips sucking at anything your cunt has to offer him until he makes you cum again, and you feel a chill run up your spine at how this is only the second boy. he’s just so generous with everything, kissing at your thighs, at your belly, up to your chest, peppering your face with kisses as he lines himself up against your hole. he’s calling you the sweetest of names, yet somehow they feel a little filthy falling from his lips, as he pushes the fat head of his cock inside of you, watches with a grin as your eyes widen at the feel of him stretching you. he tells you how good you are for him, how perfect, so perfect, wish i could have you forever, as he fucks into you so fast, like you’ll somehow disappear if he were to slow down for even a second. he’s insatiable, wanting more, more, more, that he pulls out, pushing you onto your stomach, holding you flat against the bed as he sinks into you again, simply using you, his hand so warm and gently strong all over your body. he cums before you do, spilling inside of you, but he’s quick to push your hips up, making you stick your ass out as he fucks his fingers into you, his cum and your arousal easing him in and making everything so much messier as he scissors his fingers and twists rapidly at his wrist, his thumb on your clit. when you cum, all you think is where the fuck did he learn to be this filthy? 

the third has so much to give. his cock meets your mouth before it’s at your cunt. he’s lifting you up before you can think, lowering you so that you straddle his face, facing his legs. he doesn’t tell you to suck his dick, but with the way he’s humping the air, his cock twitching in his tight boxers, you read him all too easily, and fall forward. he quickly lifts his hips to help you in stripping him, and god, he’s so fucking big. his cock is so large, so thick and veiny and long that you can’t even imagine how it’d ever fit, despite having been fucked by two other cocks. three of his fingers sink into you as his tongue laps at your folds, and you finally find the courage to wrap your lips around the dark, drooling tip, swallowing as much as you can of him. your jaw aches and your lips hurt at stretch, but you can’t deny just how good the feel of his heavy cock against your tongue is. the way he’s praising you sounds as if he’s delirious, just panting and whining and calling you the cutest petnames, and minutes later he’s spilling down your throat, cumming so much that it makes you gag and cough and spew out cum onto his lap. it doesn’t bother him though— fuck is still hard?— and he doesn’t hesitate in lifting you up, sitting up against the headboard and seating you on his lap. he doesn’t waste any time, grabbing your legs and hooking your knees on his arms, spreading you open and putting you on display. he begs silently, begs as if he was the one under your control and not the other way around, “put it in, put it in, please,” and once you do, he doesn’t hold back at all, making you easily cum on his cock, and makes everyone watch as he spills inside of you, the cum oozing and dribbling out of your stretched out cunt. 

the fourth gives you a second to breathe, his big, rough hands massaging at your sore muscles as you lay on your stomach. he eases at the tension in your shoulders, arms, back, down to your legs and ass. but despite how kind his hands may seem, his mouth is anything but. he calls you dirty, dirty, dirty, asks you if you enjoy being used like this, if they should treat you like this more often. his words have you burying and hiding your face deeper against the bed, shying away from him. he coos at this, teasingly saying, “aw, baby, don’t get all shy on my turn,” before he spreads your ass, dipping his fingers between your folds before sinking them into you. he’s doing it slow, leisurely, like he’s not really trying to get anything out of this, and you soon find out that yes, it’s exactly that, because his fingers fall from your cunt, and trail up to your ass. at the feel of his fingers against your tight hole, you tense and mewl, but he only shushes you, telling you to be good for him, that he’ll treat you real good, don’t worry darling. he takes his time stretching you for him, but it’s as clear as ever that he’s impatient. still, he makes sure you’re prepped well enough, and you understand why the moment his cock slaps up against his stomach when he pulls at his boxers. god, how were they all so big? he makes sure you’re on all fours when he brings his dock to your ass, when he finally sinks inside of you and you realize oh, oh, he’s so good. he fills you up perfectly, so perfectly, has your arms weakening. but it’s okay that you’re unable to hold yourself up, because he’s quick to pull you up to him, hand around your throat, the other between your legs, rubbing furiously at your clit, urgent to make you cum, to make you cum hard. and when he cums, he makes sure to pull out, and to cum in your pussy instead, because, “a cunt this pretty needs it, doesn’t it?” 

the fifth has a unmissable mischievous glint in his eyes, even with the kind smile he wears. he coos and awes at you, marveling at how good you’ve been to all of them, how he’s so happy to have you last, because he’s definitely going to make you feel so much better than all these boys. his hands are experienced, much more, as they press flat against your body, kneading at your thighs, at your breasts, cupping your face lovingly, and he does nothing, nothing, doesn’t touch you the way all these boys have, and you’re already mewling and begging for him, your thighs squeezing and rubbing, desperate for friction in any way. when his hand falls from your face to your throat, it rests there, simply, not a tightening grip at all, but you find yourself lifting up, leaning into him, wanting more. it’s dizzying, the way he’s borderline manipulating you. but god, do you love the way he’s hovering his fingers along your skin, forcing goosebumps all along, or the way he’s kissing you as he lets you grind your bare cunt against his thigh, making you look even more desperate, despite the very obvious tent and damp spot in his boxers. but finally, finally, he stops making you wait, pulling his cock out of its restraints and leaning close to you, lips kissing at your jaw and your neck as he slowly sinks into you. he fucks you missionary, simple as ever, but somehow, it feels the most intense out of all five. he’s everywhere around you and on you and in you, reaching deep within you, pulling orgasm after orgasm from you with his diligent strokes and dexterous fingers on your clit. when he’s close, he pulls out, grabbing at his cock and stroking it harshly, hard and fast and quick, before he spills, aiming it along your body, staining you with his cum. somehow, this way of marking is much filthier than the fact that you had four other boys cum inside of you. 

alright, so who’s who? :) 

characters: meian, bokuto, atsumu, hinata and sakusa (not in order)

#msby x reader #msby smut #haikyuu smut #meian x reader #meian smut #bokuto x reader #bokuto smut #atsumu x reader #atsumu smut #miya atsumu x reader #miya atsumu smut #hinata x reader #hinata smut #sakusa x reader #sakusa smut #sal's games <3 #sal's thirst tag <3