#and a sinful amount of filling

[kiwiplaetzchen]

On the hunt for something else, I came across some of these.

For you, my sweet. 💜🥝

My Darling dearest, My honey pie, My... little sinner,

don't tempt me like that.😌💚 But as the saying goes... Sharing is caring~

[asherisawkward]

So I just found out that Original Sin dragged Brian's birth year from 1968 to 1966, and I am having issues. Continuity fucked up much???? They were /one year/ apart in the books. One year.

(Again pissed off because Debra wasn't even born when Brian went to the Institute.)

Just watch me completely ignore OS and stick with the original eight seasons. Because continuity? Don't know her.

[sinofwriting]

Sin's Birthday Bash!

May is the month of my birth! And I want to do a little birthday bash this year!

First we have some ask games: Would You Rather Fuck, Marry, Kill Ship Bingo Director’s Commentary Also, send me any tv show, movie, or book, and I’ll tell you if I’ve seen it or not and how I’d rate it on a scale of 1-10!

We also have a secret prompt list!

Send me one letter A-Z and one of the following people/ships and I’ll write a blurb with a secret prompt that corresponds to the letter you choose.

You can start sending asks and the secret prompt list requests now (just be warned I won’t be answering any of those until May starts) and you can send multiple asks/prompt requests. Prompt requests will close on May 18th!

Please only put one prompt and person/ship per ask.

My ask box is here! Feel free to send me a prompt request, one of the ask games, or any asks in general! Can’t wait for May to start so the birthday bash can begin!

[moodycarcass]

I made my first successfully risen loaf of bread a few days ago and am now attempting from scratch cinnamon rolls from a slightly edited recipe this morning pray for me

[squirrel-in-the-woods]

somedays i remember when my love said "i just want your laundry in mine, and my face in your thighs" and it shatters me we had that and death chipped it off piece by piece until it was just me, my aching heart and the splattered blood when they took my heart with her

[hurlingdown]

                     THE BAAAAD TOUCH!

synopsis. there’s a very thin line between the way animals fuck on the discovery channel and the way you fuck them. featuring shameless, rough sex with the arcane men, and a third secret option at the end. jayce, vander, silco, viktor.

tags. top! reader, sub! jayce, vander, silco, viktor. reader has a cock. rough anal sex, creampie(s), exhibitionism, infidelity, cumslut! jayce, doggy, riding, size difference, huge cock, belly bulge, size queen! viktor, sweat kink, strength kink, breeding kink, implied marathon sex, dirty talk, degradation, praise kink, excessive amounts of manhandling, age difference, established relationships. cock-hungrified men. (lmao)

a/n. inspired by this song from bloodhound gang.

“does she know?” you pant into his ear, grip strong and sweaty on his hips, and jayce feels dirty, the way he’s being mounted like a bitch. “does she know about the way i fuck you? the sounds you make when i fill your pretty hole up?”  

he shudders, shaking his head, nails raking down your biceps as he tries to lift his head, to be less vulnerable in the way you’re taking him, but to no avail. he feels the hot burn of your palm at the back of his neck, and he finds himself back with his cheek pressed against the sheets, back arching with the violence of forcing his body to accommodate both pleasure and pain plowing away at his dignity. 

 “fuck!” he gasps, “let’s not, nnngh! talk about this. not, not right now.” it’s not the first time you’ve brought mel up in a conversation, but hardly ever more than an offhand comment, something to tease, something for fun. this… this was unknown territory. 

“why? you don’t like it?” there’s a strange displacement in your voice, a touch whiny, as though you were pouting at his denial. jayce thinks he’s going insane, because as manipulative as you were, there was no way he could say no to you. not with that look on your face. the one he can’t see but knows it’s there. 

“doesn’t matter,” jayce whispers. “it’s not ri- right.” 

you want to laugh. it’s not right? so it’s all right and just if he sneaks into your bed almost every other night for you to get him off simply because said girlfriend never could—nights of sweat and sinful lovemaking that end with him sneaking out of your room with a limp—but it’s not okay if you want to talk about it? how was that fair? 

“you don’t like her anyway, do you?” you mutter. “you should just get rid of her and be with me.” you tighten your hold on him. you want it to bruise. you want him to go home with your marks on his body. you want mel to ask about them and jayce squirming as he tries to think of a stupid excuse to fool her again. faulty gym equipment. sparring session gone wrong. you know all of his excuses. it’s funny, the way he tries to patch things up. “this is cruel… to the both of us. don’t you wanna get this over with?” 

“it’s- unh, complicated!” jayce moans, but there’s nothing complicated about it, he just doesn’t want to talk. doesn’t want to feel the shame and guilt making his guts tangle and heart pound—the way you fit into him so perfectly, so innately, like you’ve always belonged inside him, a missing piece to his puzzle. 

he bites back a whine as the thick head of your cock pushes against his swollen prostate, and he’s not sure if he can even feel his legs at this point. it’s humiliating, the way you’re cooing nasty words into his ear, handprints branding his hips as you tug him up only to slam downwards against him, pushing him further down into the mattress with every heavy thrust. 

“why? what’s keeping you then? hah. don’t tell me. does she fuck you like this too?” you snarl, sucking hot purple bruises down the column of his neck, salt and iron underneath your tongue making you hungry, and he keens. “so desperate for cock you’d let your girlfriend fuck you, jayce? well? does she fuck you as good as i do?” 

“noo,” jayce slurs, shaking his head, “nothing’s as good. you’re the best. love it. love you.” 

“really?” you bark out a laugh, and he nods dumbly, like his body’s conditioned to respond to your every whim, wanting to please, to serve. “well, i don’t see it at all. only thing you could ever be in love with is my cock.” 

“ah- ah, yeah, that too,” he whines, “love you more.” 

“liar,” you growl, and he sobs out at the way your length drags across his walls, thick and girthy, missing his prostate on purpose. it’s a punishment, jayce knows. he’s sorry. he feels so guilty. “pretty slutty liar. you’ll do anything to get stuffed, won’t you? even if it means cheating on your little girlfriend. you’ll even enjoy it, the moment you break her heart.” 

jayce shakes his head, tears blurring his vision. he can’t even say anything at this point, with the way you’re forcing him to take, fucking the words out of him. he can’t help being addicted to this. it’s too good. mel would understand, wouldn’t she? she would, if only she could have a taste of it. it’s not his fault. not really. 

“you probably think she’ll never know. you probably think she’ll never find out.” you’re talking again, but the sounds buzz by, barely intelligible. jayce swallows, letting your accusation wash over him. he has been careful, hasn’t he. surely she won’t know. surely she can’t know. “the way you start crying when you’re about to cum. you think she’ll never know about that, right?” 

he doesn’t know what you mean, but it’s so hard to think. there’s wetness on his cheeks and the low flame in his belly has blazed into a forest fire. he wants to cum. he needs it. he needs it hard and rough, bruises on his waist and hips and love bites on his collarbones, hard, heavy thrusts that make him feel dizzy and high and stupid, drowning him in the throes of pleasure that only you can give to him. 

“please,” jayce begs, tears streaming down his face. “i want, ngh… ah, want your cum in me.” 

and before he knows it, there’s the rush of hot cum flooding his hole, the sweaty press of your chest against his back, your hips trembling and bucking against his, and it’s so good it makes him see stars. but you don’t stop. it’s messy and filthy, and pure bliss when he feels you snake a hand into his hair and wrench his head up, rough and careless just the way he likes it. 

his eyes roll back before his cock starts helplessly spurting at the sight of mel standing in the doorway, watching him being bred like a whore.

VANDER

. . . vander thinks he maybe maybe made a mistake, telling you to be rough with him. because this is exactly the kind of rough he likes. 

“oh, fuck, sweetness,” he moans, arousal bleeding into his guttural voice as he arches his back and cants his hips backwards to receive your thrusts, taking you deeper inside, his ass bouncing every time you meet his hips with a wet, nasty ‘pap’. “t-thaat’s it, kid. right there, fuck, harder…” 

he’s clutching his pillow tightly, waves of pleasure shackling him to the bed as you’re pounding away at his hole from behind. you’ve snaked a hand into his hair to wrench his head up roughly, and a low whine pushes its way past his lips, punctuated by a sharp, deadly thrust aimed at his prostate. he’s pretty sure his own cock’s rubbed raw against the sheets, spurting so much pre there’s a sticky, slippery pool underneath him—easing the steamy push and glide. 

there are stars bursting at the corners of his eyes, threatening to consume his vision, and he can vaguely feel his toes curl and thighs spasm at every brush of your cock against his bundle of nerves. there’s sweat dripping down his face, a salty tang on his tongue, and he wipes his forehead with the back of his hand, hearing nothing but his own heavy pants and groans, attuned to the rhythm of your thrusts. it’s too good. almost makes him feel young again. he’s halfway through his forties, and yet you’re fucking him like he’s twenty. 

vander can feel your hands all over him, pressing heavy bruises onto the tender fat of his waist and hips, bodily dragging him back onto your cock every time you ram forward, making sure to put your entire weight behind it. the mattress is letting out horrible creaking sounds, the headboard of the bed slamming into the wall in perfect tempo, and the both of you are going to regret this later, but fuck, he doesn’t care. 

it’s addicting. it’s violent. vander shouldn’t be enjoying this, but he is. 

“fuck, love, y’er gonna make me cum already,” he chokes out, and it’s more of a drunken slur, really — there’s something about the way you’re treating him that makes him dizzy and weak at the knees. his fists are clenched, grasping at the bedsheets every time he feels like snaking a hand between his legs and jerking off to your thrusts. he wants to enjoy it, savour it—the way you’re taking him, pressing him into the mattress like you’re trying to break the bed before you break him, gaze hungry enough to swallow him up in your lust. 

“go ahead and cum, vander,” you drawl, grabbing a handful of his ass before sharply spanking him across, the sting rewarding you with a full-body shiver. “i want you to cum like it’s your last night on earth.” 

who the absolute fuck does this kid think he is, vander thinks, and he quickly buries his face back into the pillow because he knows he’s going to get loud. you’re insane. insanely bad at dirty talk, but your hunger makes up for it. he’s never liked dirty talking that much, but fuck, if you weren’t something different. cum like it’s his last night on earth? he really underestimated how greedy you were. 

“cocky,” he wheezes instead, once he’s caught his breath, “y’er gonna, haah, hafta fuck me harder for that to happen.” it’s yet another bad decision, and he’s digging his own grave, he knows it. as if you aren’t already fucking him within an inch of his life—the bulbous shape of your cockhead digging into his prostate with such immaculate precision, pressing the shape of your handprints into his skin as you fuck him with your eyes, your hands and your cock. 

hungry. intense. unforgettable. vander doesn’t think he’ll ever get enough of it. 

before he can even breathe, you’ve hooked one arm under his thigh, tossing him over onto his back like you’re flipping a fucking pancake, and vander’s not a delicate man by all means. without wasting a second, you’re pushing inside him again, groaning shamelessly as his wet, warm cave engulfs you perfectly. vander makes a desperate noise, eyes squeezing shut—there’s no pillow to muffle his cries or hide his expressions from you this time, but he’s far too close to be embarrassed. 

the new position’s got you so deep inside him, and it’s getting harder to breathe, almost as though he could feel you all the way to his throat. it’s uncomfortable and very inconsiderate of his aching back, but the mind-numbing pleasure hammering away at his sweet spot makes up for it. 

“s-so fuckin’ good, kid,” he pants out, arching his back with a moan as you reach down to grope at his tits, the muscles plump and soft with tender age, hole clenching around you tightly every time you tug at his perky nipples. his cock’s all leaky, drooling over his stomach and making a mess, and he’s so aroused it’s almost endearing. “fuck me… god, fuck me.” 

he’s going to cum hands-free, vander thinks, and shit, you’re going to be so smug about this after you’re done with having your way with him. vander sneaks a glance at you—eyelids fluttering, making little grunts of pleasure every time you bully your way into his tight wet warmth. it embarrassingly makes the back of his neck burn, makes him feel all hot and sexy and wanted. 

“yeah? best cock you’ve ever taken, vander?” you purr, and his breath stutters, seizing up with a yell and then he’s fucking cumming with you balls-deep inside him. guess you’ll take that as a yes.

SILCO

silco doesn’t know how long he’s been bent over in that same fucking position, but he doesn’t plan on making you stop anytime soon. 

“darling, not so rough. . .” he gasps out, nails raking down the expensive wood of his office desk while you plow away at him from behind, his hole sopping wet but tight, as though you haven’t cum two times in him already. he can feel his knees knocking into the hard front of the desk with every brutal thrust, the weeping tip of his erection grazing the cool mahogany, the pleasure inside him making his lower belly burn with a flame he hasn’t felt in a long time. 

“why?” you grin, draping yourself over his half-clothed stature, his pants yanked down to his ankles as he’s bent over to take. you shuffle forward, making sure his ass is pressed snugly against your crotch before giving an experimental roll of your hips, always reaching deeper, for more. “worried that they’ll hear?” 

silco presses his lips together in a thin line, tilting his face away from yours, and if you didn’t know any better, you would have thought he were sulking. you laughed. it was just too easy to piss him off sometimes. 

“i’m just playing around, baby. your office is soundproofed, no?” you straightened yourself, running a hand over the smooth, sensitive expanse of his back before returning to your firm grip on his bruised hips. he gave a shuddering sigh, trying to relax as you started to rock into him again with strong, steady thrusts. 

“it doesn’t matter,” he rasps, “we’re, hah, being too loud… sweetheart. s-sevika is right outside.” 

“don’t care,” you mutter. “i’m pent up. ‘least you can do is let me fuck you stupid. you’ll let me, right?” 

silco makes a noise at the back of his throat, half from displeasure, the other half from the sharp curl of arousal in his lower abdomen, making his cock twitch and leak. fuck if it didn’t turn him on when you talked to him like this. he settles for burying his face into his arms, preparing himself for whatever you were going to put him through. 

“be gentle,” he whispers, letting out a shuddering sigh. “i’m not so young anymore.” 

you could feel a grin pulling at the corners of your lips. yeah. sure, you were going to be gentle with him. with him looking like that. 

“hngh, r-right there…” silco mewls out, knees buckling repeatedly as he tries not to think about how loud he’s being. he supposes he could gag himself with something, your fingers, maybe, get them warm and wet for you while you use his face as leverage to fuck him harder, but he knows how much his noises spur you on, and right now he really doesn’t want to piss you off. not when you’re indulging him so well. “that’s it… you’re so good… darling.” 

“not so shy anymore?” you hummed, licking a hot stripe up his neck, his gasp twisting into a whine. “think we can make you louder?” 

“sweetheart,” he sighs as he feels your hand wrap around his throat, and he tilts his head back to let you grip it properly. “you already know what i want.” 

“well, i don’t think so.” you smile, leaning down to press your cheek against his, working away from behind with short, firm thrusts that steal his breath away. “remind me. did we use the magic word yet?” 

but just as he’s about to answer with snark, there’s the rap of fists against his office door, and silco feels his heart plummet. not now, when things were about to get good—this was the worst timing possible. “everything alright, boss?” 

“yes,” silco pants, “fuck… yes.” 

you can feel his nails dig into the back of your thigh, warning you not to pull out. you’re thick and heavy, resting against his stomach, and silco feels so fucking good and full. you can’t stop now. not until he’s had his fill. he can vaguely feel your warm seed trailing its way down his perineum in a slow trickle, and fuck, he wants more. wants to feel stuffed even without you inside him, drowsy and content. 

he blinks, brows furrowing as he catches himself fantasizing about you yet again. should he even be having thoughts like these in his forties? was this healthy? sex with you was life-changingly—and now apparently hormone-alteringly good. 

“sir?” sevika’s growl interrupts his train of thought. and yeah, not to mention—his second-in-command is right outside his office, while all he can think about is cock. shit. your big, leaky cock, buried to the hilt inside his hole. he wonders if it’ll be gaping once you’re done with him. and oh. cum. loads of your cum, filling up every inch of space inside him. making it hard to breathe. making him swel— “is someone in there with you?” 

“yes,” silco wheezes dumbly as you roll your hips against him with meaning, forcing him to take you deeper. he trembles, shifting back slightly to fuck himself on your cock, forcing a sharp inhale from you. “we are busy. you’re, oh… dismissed, sevika.” 

the silence is loud, save for the almost-silent squelches of your cock maneuvering inside him with all the cum stored in his belly. 

you can feel his heart pounding from the way your chest is pressed against his bare back. or maybe it’s your own. his walls squeeze around you, sinfully tight, pulling a muffled moan from where you have your teeth sunken into his shoulder. fuck. he’s—silco’s actually into this. you’d have never guessed he would be such a freak, for lack of a better word, but with how things were going . . . you didn’t mind it. not one bit. it drove you crazy with want, if anything. 

“... if you say so, boss.” the sound of retreating footsteps fills you with both relief and disappointment, but before you could even process what that means, you can feel silco gazing at you through his lashes, low and scrutinizing and something needy. 

“did i say you could stop?” silco grunts. “fuck me.” 

you let out a shaky sigh, hips already bucking back into the warm mould of your cock—and the next sound that drives past his lips is a loud and unabashed sob of your name. 

you think you might have unlocked something new in your lover.

VIKTOR

“it won’t fit,” viktor slurs, moans tumbling out of his mouth as he gives a shaky roll of his hips. he’s not quite there yet, with only the tip sucked in, but he’s making good progress. “i’m terribly s-sorry, dear. your… appendage. it’s too big.” 

his eyes flutter shut at the feeling of your hands forming a ring around his waist, strong and firm, a warm assurance that there was a possibility… although slight, that he’d make it. 

“it’ll fit,” you murmur, kissing the sensitive spot at the back of his ear, the one that makes him suck in a sharp breath and shudder. “you’re doing very good, love. just… a little more, yeah?” 

viktor looks down. it’s nowhere near a little more. you’re barely halfway in and he’s already thinking about quitting—has been, since the stupidly huge head of your cock breached his rim, making him feel a stretch that no amount of fingers or plastic toys could replicate. it was something extraordinary. overwhelmingly so. 

“please,” he mewls, forehead dropping to rest on your shoulder. “t-touch me? i think i’ll probably, hah, ease up a little if you would… oh, yes. thank you, dear. thank you.” 

it’s… in simple words, too much. you’re usually very considerate, taking your time with him with your fingers, rubbing on his tender walls until he loosens enough for you to slip another one in. the night would then end with you fucking his thighs, sticky and slick with his own cum. it’s good. it’s enough. that was until he started having thoughts of what it would feel like if you were inside him. 

but viktor would’ve never imagined it would be like this. the difference in size was just… comical. you were so deep inside him already, the impossible girth forming an obscene bulge over his abdomen, making him whine with the fullness. if this is already what it feels like to have you inside, then just what would it feel like to have you spill inside him?

he can’t lie—he’s spent nights waiting for you to fall asleep first so that he could scoop up some of the cum you had missed on the sheets, quietly fingering himself with the cold slickness. it didn’t feel right, even if it was yours. it just wasn’t the same. he wanted, no, needed to feel it for himself. 

it doesn’t help, the way you’re stroking him, ever so gentle with him. your huge palm covers his entire length without having to move much, huge thumb rubbing at his leaking tip, and viktor’s never been so hard before in his whole life. he’s so close already, hole fluttering around you uncontrollably, and it’s almost cute how it looks like it’s going to swallow you up. maybe it is. 

maybe it’ll fit. 

“last few inches,” you pant, fingers trembling slightly where you’re struggling not to press bruises into the cup of his hips. “can i-? please, vik. it’s so good. you’re so good. i just need a little more. please, baby.” 

“yes,” viktor blurts out, before he realises just what he agreed to—but within the next second he can feel something abnormally large pushing its way past his tight walls, faster and rougher than before, even as he tries to clench and hold still—it’s mean and a little too much, but then the back of his thighs meets hot skin and he nearly blacks out with the stretch of it all. 

“ngh,” viktor keens, trembling with exhaustion as he tries to settle into your lap comfortably with such a large intrusion within him. “soo full…” 

you sigh in pleasure, hands going back to his hips where they belong, pushing him down until you’re satisfied that he’s properly taken everything you’ve given him. it’s not a demand, viktor thinks, more like a comfort. telling him that you’ve always known he would’ve been able to take you in the first place. that this is where he belongs, filled to the brim with you and you only. 

he lets out a shuddering moan when you start to slowly bounce him on your lap, lifting him up with ease a good inch or two, before rolling your hips to meet his, pushing yourself deeper. “shit, vik…” you groan, and he cries out with every brush against his prostate, the sheer size of you making it impossible to miss it. “you’re so tight, baby… so perfect. i’m right here with you, okay? easy now, you’re doing so good.” 

you’re so good to him as always, whispering sweet nothings into his ear, but it’s different this time, and fuuck. viktor thinks he’s dying with how good it feels. he tries to steer his hips, to actually ride you instead of having you manhandling him up and down your cock, but there’s hardly any friction left now that he’s properly stretched, and any attempt results in him collapsing back to his knees, the pleasure making him weak. 

he settles for hanging onto you, arms wrapping around your neck and choking out little whimpers as you rock upwards into his waiting hole again and again, toes curling and nails scratching red trails down your back with the all-consuming pleasure.

it’s driving him crazy, the fullness, the simple thought of you pumping your seed and sperm into him, of making love with you. it’s nothing like the way it was written in the textbooks he had spent nights researching—it’s beyond anything he would have ever imagined. 

“please,” viktor sobs out, feeling strangely empty every time you pull out halfway, as ironic as it was—as though there was a chance you would leave him fully. the thought of it hurt. if only you could fit inside him forever. if only. “stay…” he cries, “cum inside. m-make me yours.” 

you lean forward, pressing your lips against his in a hurried kiss, at the same time grinding so deep viktor thinks, for a split of a second, that that might be you he’s feeling in his stomach. the broken wail he gives is loud and muffled, and you lap up the drool on the side of his face, watching as your lover’s eyes flutter shut at the feeling of being filled, properly this time, to the brink of spilling.

masterlist!

[cosycafune]

MATING PRESS!

1.0k words. kento's a little tipsy, a pussy-strucken mess. all he wants is to divulge in his precious housewife's cunt, consistently engaging in a mating press. he's desperate, wanting all of you...entirely. maybe, just maybe, he'd stuff you enough to corrupt you.

acts: messy sex, nasty sex, unprotected sex, mating press, slight corruption kink, breeding kink, teasing, overstimulating, crying, submission, creampies, sloppy kissing, consensual intimacy. mdni. 18+. masterlist.

a/n: kento likes messy sex, when he's slightly drunk.

YOU'RE TREMBLING, faced with the sight of a partially drunk Kento – flaunting an intimidating manspread. Nothing within you could face his wrath, sensing the itching lust that captures his low eyes. Naturally, you knew what Kento longed for. It’s so obvious, the moment you’re settled between Kento’s thighs – shaking with yearning you can’t shed.

Intoxicated with your presence, Kento pushes himself into drawing you nearer – toying with the ends of your frilly summer dress. Hungrily, Kento’s gaze darts up to you – sporting an intimidating aura. Whenever Kento drank in tolerable amounts, he’d become pent up – tinted with an insatiable urge for you.

Gluttony adorns him. Kento wanted to consume you, filling you up endlessly with his fruitful seed. Just seeing you, nervous, unable to control your lust, in front of him, drove him crazy. Even with him warmed by the alcohol, he always longs to stuff his beautiful wife, no matter where he lingers.

Shit, he’d take you on the couch he’s sitting on, the table, the floor, on the wall. Kento just wanted to take you on any spot he could, he didn’t fucking care in the slightest. All he longed for was to stuff you with his heavenly cock, pounding and decimating your cunt with everything he had. Sexually, he longed to suffocate you — driving into you to listen to every squeamish sound you make.

“Kento?” Meekly, you speak – gasping at his burly fingers kneading your doughy bubble butt.

“Hm?” Consumed by longing, Kento lowly greets your eyes – barely muttering a fruitful sound.

“‘Sure you wanna do this?” Squeezing your eyes close, you question him, “You’ve been drinking.” Frowning, you warm at Kento drawing you nearer to you – sitting you upon his tender lap.

“I’ve only drank a little, my love.” Reassuring you, Kento removes his lime glasses – displaying the aged contours beneath his eyes.

“If you’re sure, Ken’,” Teasing him, you fall tender – smitten at Kento’s fingers roaming over the fabric against your hips.

—⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

You’re an unredeemable mess, your lips sloppily capturing Kento’s while his fat, angelic cock passionately pounded your plushy pussy. Gasps, desperate, dirty moans and pleasurable squelching sounds flooded the room. Unspoken tension riddled each one of Kento’s crazed thrusts, pooling into the subtle alcoholism that tints his breath. It’s so obvious, your decimated pussy tells its story – singing a sinful melody.

“Kento! Ngh! Warm!” Overstimulated, you frantically warm – enclosed by Kento’s physique in a mating press. 

“Love…when you’re like this,” Needy, Kento’s smooth tone adorns your ears – paring with his eager thrusts.

“‘Ts too…deep,” Mewling frantically, you feel Kento grab your jiggly ass cheek – gripping it to lodge his cock further into you. 

“You can…handle it,” Subtle aggressiveness tints Kento’s voice, leading him into softly kissing your lips.

“‘Can…Mhmm! Handle…it,” Cock-driven, your moans are breathless — consumed by Kento’s extreme neediness.

“That’s…my baby,” Hazy, Kento gently praises you — allowing his heavy balls to slap against your ass.

“So…warm,” Mewling, so, so, out of it, your eyes flutter — lifelessness tinting your battered eyes.

“Mhm, you ready… for my cum?” Kento’s tone holds a fragment of degradation. 

Instinctively, it causes him to pound into you with a might he knows you’re unable to handle. You’re barely able to breathe, your breasts perched up while his lips greedily meet your own. Ironically, your cognitive functions are limited — filled with the deepness and manhandled by Kento’s large cock. Every ounce of your physique is stuffed with Kento — intoxicated — tickled with the deepest elements of him.

“Baby, please!” Pleading, you tremble frantically — unable to function or breathe without Kento’s cum.

Within his presence, you always longed to be stuffed and decimated by him — every string of you wrapped around him. Your eyes were always flooded with love hearts, blooming further with the more cum Kento poured within you.

When it comes to hardcore intimacy, Kento’s extremely nasty — ruining you until you’re absolutely nothing. It’s a tad worse when he’s drunk and whiny, but able to consent enough to function. Hours would flow by, but Kento wouldn’t release you — honing his body with each thrust. None of him cared about drifting into overtime, he would simply expand on his nastiness.

Like, right now, the bedsheets are town, soaked with cum and squirt. The room’s thick with the blissful smell of sex, the sounds of inhumane struggling, cock handling and everything indecent. This imagery contrasted with Kento’s clean imagery, especially since he’s a man of hygiene. 

Yet, currently, he’s extraordinarily sweaty, his cock decorated with your dripping cum. Kento’s blonde locks stick to his forehead, his narrow eyes greeting yours as he bucked his deepest within you — feeling his previous rounds of cum clinging to his thighs. The whole room is extremely trashed, riddled with marks, and scattered furniture; everything’s clustered and unjust.

“Shit, I’ll give it to you,” Satisfied, watching you extensively beg for his cum, Kento responds — grinning.

“Please, I've… earnt it, Kento,” An external and internal mess, you plead heavily – your stomach churning at Kento fulfilling the mating press.

Mentally conquered, Kento tugs at your bubble butt – thrusting himself so deeply within you. So deeply, you’re unable to remember your name. You groan, thrash, basking within his company – eerily complete. Complete before he suffocates you beneath you, his diabolical cock pulsating deeply within you.

Wickedly, Kento glances down at you – his precious wife – enjoying the discipline he gifts you. When it comes to you, Kento’s unable to resist corrupting you – someone he’d spoil more than anything. Obviously, you loved it when Kento’s rough with you – pulverising you. Even with you as his precious housewife, Kento couldn’t help but gift you baby batter – so you can nurture a bun in your oven.

“Mhm, you…have,” Proud, Kento harshly finishes inside of you – filling you preciously with his manly spurts of cum. Every ounce of his cock was structured for you, no matter what moment remained. Shit, this moment compelled him frantically – toning him with love, devotion and solace.

Filled, Kento kisses your tender lips – observing the explicit mess he has made of you. Right now, you’re beautiful marked – submissive for him. Every crevice of you is structured for him, especially in this mating press.

He knew he would have to try this position again.

--

do not copy, modify or claim any of my works as your own. all rights reserved; cosycafune. 2024. banner by cafekitsune <3

[nastyc2nt]

Their Worship

╰┈➤ Saja Boys x Worshiper!Reader

𖥨᩠ׄ݁ Warnings: Group sex, gangbang?, follower/leader dynamic, smut, kinda mean boys, just some scene of a hc i got.

Imagine, the group just preformed Idol, and they’re all sweaty and you’re their little worshipper. Theirs. They feed into your devotion and fantasies because it feeds them like treats after the long days.

You’re waiting backstage, cheering and rooting for them and blushing when they give you slight glances from the stage just for a second to keep your focus on them. Backstage, in their dressing rooms and pamper them and cool them off.

You’re so good to them, treating them like their you gods. Loving how they tower over you.

“Such a sweet little thing,” jinu keeps his hand below your chin as he feels the movement from inside your throat, keeping your head lifted enough for him and you to keep eye contact.

Your face and chin slick with the spit and cum dripping out of your mouth. You looked disgusting, you looked messy and wreaked. Practically the vision of sin and lust.

Both your hands filled with cocks, purple tinted and darker patterns curling around each of them. Every single one looked different, and yet the same amount of addicting. Romance and Abs moaning and rutting into your hands, loving the feeling of your tight hold.

Baby was waiting for you to focus on his tip, you go from deep throating Jinu to giving baby’s tip just a little attention, he likes it until he gets your whole attention. His own hand stroking his long thin cock, hoping to either cover your face and body with it, or cum down your throat.

Mystery, of course was growling as he stroked his cock. He wanted to pull Jinu back, replace his cock with his and throat fuck you. But, he was a good boy. He knew you loved him rough, but more when he waited his turn, was patient unlike the others. You gave him special attention, let him use you, like a fuck toy and a chew toy. So he waited, waited until you’d let him bend you over first while the group could only stare at you.

But, it’s not like you never gave the others special treatment. You gave your attention to them all in their own time, you were theirs. Their follower. Everything you are, all you could give, was theirs.

“Our little obedient pet.”

¡!Don’t repost my posts on other websites, don’t translate them, theses are for me to publish on my own!!

[laceyfaeryy]

MDNI 18+

SIMON RILEY DISPLAYING ALL FIVE LOVE LANGUAGES

౨ৎ⠀ׄ⠀. ━ simon riley displays all five love languages to his luvie

words of affirmation

simon was not good with words, but with you it was different. he wanted to tell you how perfect you were, how pretty and kind hearted you were to a scarred man like him. it first started off a little rough and awkward, him blurting it out. “yer look pretty.” the way you smiled shyly with your cheeks tinged a soft pink colour made him want to repeat it like a mantra. he didn’t care that it was random, how you were in your pyjamas at 2pm whilst stuffing your face with the leftovers from last night. you still looked utterly perfect in his eyes.

the way you seemed to glow with confidence after a few days after from his words made his ego swell. simon had you doing small clothing hauls after your shopping trips, making you spin with the new dresses. “you gotta get it in another colour luvie, you look perfect.” it would be small compliments here and there, or some more intimidate ones. you cuddled up in his bed whilst he whispered soft words to you, his calloused hand gently rubbed your back when you told him about your struggles. “yer doin’ so well luvie, toughest girl i know.”

simon treated sex like a sacred thing, gently whispering soft words into your ear as he plunged deep inside your small cunt, snuggly fitting around him. “my pretty luvie, perfect for me, your body, your face, your heart.”

physical touch

never in simon’s life did he think he would be a needy man, but here he is craving your touch constantly. it somehow seamlessly seeped into his routine, reaching out for your hand whilst the two of you walked on the street, constantly having his arms around your waist at the small local bars, or casually touching your thigh when you sat next to him. sometimes it felt like having a constant shadow around you. “hurry up and get to bed luvie, ‘s cold without you.”

sometimes his touches were intentional and not the ones he did just casually without thinking. he took extra care of you during sex, his calloused hands gently rubbing over your soft thighs and plush hips, like he was trying to engrave it into his memory. it felt like a sin having his hands who were responsible for the darkest things when he was in the military, and yet he couldn’t help but to worship your body.

acts of service

though simon loved using his words and hands to show his love to you, he was a strong believer in actions are louder than words. hence why he tried to make your life a little easier, even if it seamed a little mundane. he would have your coffee prepared early in the morning when you had to leave for work, just so you could have a little more time in bed sleeping. or he would have a nice relaxing bath prepared after you came home, essential oils and candles filling up the bathroom. simon loved your independence, but sometimes it annoyed him. having you come home all tired just for you to insist cleaning up the house. “i’ve got it luvie, go and relax yeah? let me take care of you.”

quality time

after deployment and first spending time without you during the early months in your relationship, simon realised how much he needed you around him. you didn’t need to be snugged up right by him - not that he minded at all, but even having you around him like being in the same room. you reading your book on the lounge whilst simon cleaned his collection of small knives. it was your presence that mattered the most. simon considered anything a days watching a movie on the couch? date. cooking dinner together? date. simon didn’t care what you were doing, as long as you were with him. he tried to turn small boring activities like housekeeping into something meaningful. the two of you opening up your deepest secrets and bonding through something small simple was something simon never took for granted.

gift giving

simon made tremendous amount of money in the military, and he was never one to splurge on himself, but on you? he didn’t even have for think twice. you would often ask him about what to get, holding up to dresses, “which one si?” he had no idea why you were even asking him, without saying anything he took them out of your hands and walked to the cashier. he loved spoiling his bird, having you all pampered and taken care of was something that he took great pride in. though it wasn’t something mindless, as much as simon loved spoiling you and buying whatever your heart desired, many of his purchases had intentions. like the pink to go coffee mug so you can take your coffee with you to work, or the heated blanket because he noticed how you snuggled deep into the blankets during the cold winter nights. essentially, simon was an attentive man to his bird’s needs.

tag list:

@happysmappy @mydickishuge560 @dolli333 @madebyyicarus @l-otti @butlerslut @vampwifee @i-wanabe-yours @bluebarrybubblez @cinnamongrl2006 @akkahelenaa @yanfeiiiiii @actualpoppy @lilyalone @other-fandoms-reblogs @goonette6969 @doubledizzy22 @lucienofthelakes @arabellatreaty @tessakate @kayden666 @ghostsd8s @ama-eve @webmvie @your-internet-tenshi @novthewolf @1ilo @simpingreader @angeldoll1e @avgdestitute @anonymouse1807 @chaieanne @i-live-in-spite

[meowrimo]

the amount of times zoro pulls out mid-fuck to start eating you out has to border on some sort of punishment.

it never fails to leave you whining out in a great loss, missing the way he deliciously filled you up moments ago. once again longing for the closeness when his glistening, taut body was hovering over yours, breathy grunts of your name flowing from his kiss-bitten lips.

but the moment his sinful mouth wraps around your puffy clit, his tongue slowly unraveling your core and spelling out his undying devotion to you, takes back the previous notion that he was doing it just to spite you.

everything fades into a lofty state of bliss while he hungrily eats you out without so much as taking a break, consumed with the urge to swallow you whole.

there’s an addictive quality to you that urges him to stop whatever he’s doing to get a taste, the buds on his tongue yearning for you in a way even his favorite sake could never replicate.

relentless as ever, he relishes in the way you grab onto his hair, nails digging into his scalp as he barely comes up for air all while he devours you. the way you writhe and squirm above him is a sight to behold, one that causes him to chase the friction that he earns when his aching, neglected cock rubs against cotton sheets.

the two of you come at the same time but zoro doesn’t relent until you’re practically twitching and jolting in his near bruising hold, yanking on him to show mercy and pull away.

with a satisfied smirk, the familiar catch of his hard cock nudges along your overstimulated clit before slowly sinking back into you until he’s bottomed out and kissing your cervix, ready to take you once again.

after enough times and endless complaints from you about how his cum goes to waste this way, zoro will easily manhandle you so you’re sat on his face instead, bent over his torso as he thrusts into your eagerly awaiting mouth until he spills down your throat.

[bananastarlo]

Warning: NSFW!

Thinking about yandere nerd who saw someone else talking to you. Now you're paying the price.

You see him in the hallway, quickly avoiding his gaze as he continues to stare at you from a distance with piercing eyes, making you blush.

But when a boy comes up and tries to talk to you, he gets bold, approaching you and wrapping his surprisingly strong arms around your waist.

“Back off, she’s mine,” is all he says, his voice sultry with possessiveness.

Then he takes your hand and storms off with you.

“Who are you thinking about right now, hm? Is it him?”

You don’t answer, the shame of the situation you’re in making you want to shrink back. But it feels so good. He feels so good.

“Answer me!” he demands, as he spanks your ass while you’re bent over his knee. The loss of pleasure as he stops pumping his thick, long fingers into your dripping pussy, paired with the sudden sting, leaves you heavy with arousal as you squirm in his lap.

“N-No, you’re all I think about, p-please,” you desperately mewl, attempting to rub your aching clit against his knee, causing enough friction to stimulate yourself as your thoughts begin to fade, chasing your own orgasm.

“Shit,” he groans. “You know, it’s really hard to stay mad at you when you look so cute and desperate on my legs, only for me.

But you need to learn that you belong to me now.”

Suddenly, he yanks your hair back with one hand, the other keeping you from squirming.

The sound you make as he whispers into your ear, telling you how fucking good you look, is enough to make him cum in his own pants.

“Aw, look at this, I made a mess and it’s your fault, baby. But you’ll help me, right? Help me, and I’ll make you feel so good I’ll forget you ever tried to talk to another man.”

Now you’re between his legs, looking up at his veiny, hard cock and the amount of cum leaking out of it. You pant as your own bare pussy starts to pulse and drip onto the floor at the sight of his dick. Your hands shakily wrap around his shaft, earning a needy groan from him.

You sigh in utter bliss at the thought of making him feel good, beginning to lap up his thick white cum like a good dog while gently stroking him, drawing the most angelic and sinful sounds from his throat.

“Y-Yes, that’s a good fucking girl,” he praises as his head falls back, face flushed, his fingers twitching as he grips the sheets. He slowly brings one hand to the back of your head, guiding your hot mouth, while biting the other to suppress his whimpers.

It doesn’t take long—he ejaculates again, and this time, shoots his load on your face, giving him a sight he thought he’d only ever see in heaven.

He needs a moment to regain his composure, huffing heavily.

“C’mere,” he croaks, fully pulling you into his arms, leaving no space to breathe. You oblige, excitement and a rush of heat filling you as your hearts pound against your ribcages, thinking about what he’ll do to you, already anticipating his hot, passionate touch.

“You can use me. You’ve been so good for me, you earned it,” he whispers, shifting his attention to your neck, sucking and biting your soft flesh.

You moan as your hips stutter against his, drawing the same sound from him.

You try to focus on your own satisfaction as you roll your hips against his knee and glide your aching slit along his big thigh, holding onto his neck to steady yourself. Your whines and puffs begin to increase as your mind blanks, and all you can feel are the intense waves of pleasure crashing through your body.

He watches you as you increase your pace, hitting that right spot over and over again.

“You’re doing so good,” he smirks.

As soon as you hear his words, your body reacts—your back arches as you release on him.

He takes you in his arms and cradles you, patting your head and whispering sweet nothings into your ear, making you drowsy until you eventually fall asleep in his embrace.

[satorena]

.𖥔˚. “and whenever we fuck she be fuckin’ me back, put her in a headlock with my elbow” or whatever dababy said.

cw. explicit content. afab!reader. mild asphyxiation play. báckshots. squírting. implied marathon séx. mild impact play. reader is freaked out & toji is trying to keep up. 1.8 wc.

heat.

he feels nothing but heat as your velvety walls swallow his throbbing cock, consuming his vulnerability straight into the warmth of your core. heat, as the course in which blood pumps through his veins runs hot, flashes of pure adrenaline the only fuel left steaming in his worn out body from sheer overstimulation. heat, in the way it creeps up his chest, past his love assaulted neck and sits all over his face.

heat, the way the smooth skin of your ass feels as it ricochets off his hips in ripples that waves of the deepest of sea floors couldn’t ever dream of recreating.

he fucks into you like he’s got something to prove, and maybe he does. because you sit there, sprawled on all fours, a sinful dip in the arch of your spine glazed in drying semen— and in the midst of your mewls, you’re smiling, the furrow in your brows and your loosened jaw a telltale of satisfaction on your end. but, there’s an almost relieved smile etched on your lips, and toji’s never found a woman enjoying herself during sex any more attractive.

he’s rounds deep into fucking, has forgotten the amount hours ago, but even with sweat seeping out of every pore on his body, there isn’t anything celestial that could sever the magnetic pull of his thighs meeting the back of yours. your cunt is soaked, so wet he hardly feels his own dick crushing your cervix. but clamps down on him with a grip so tight— as if running from good pussy has ever been in his character.

he holds onto your hips harshly, and knows he’ll leave visual proof of his dedication printed into your skin. there’s a wonton symphony that soars into the sex scented room— a harmonious blend of your dripping pussy squeezing onto him for dear life, sweaty skin slapping against sweatier skin, and the love child of guttural groans and throaty moans. his name spills past your swollen lips in broken hiccups, but the way your nails claw into damp sheets suggests you’re just as relentless.

if not more.

his abdominal muscles tighten with every devastatingly deep thrusts, and there’s the familiar tingle simmering in his guts. he knows he’ll hold out until he rearranges yours via mushroom tip, but there’s only so much a man can muster out of sheer will alone, and you looking back at your bodies’ point of contact with heart in yours eyes certainly isn’t helping.

he doesn’t need to look to feel your creamy essence enveloping the base of dick. it sits into the patch of raven hair right above and connects strings of the sticky substance from your rear end to his front. it’s as messy as it is disgusting, and it takes every brain cell left in his putty mind to not cum.

a stray drop of sweat trickles from his matted locks and lands straight onto your ass cheek, and he brings a hand to land a firm blow onto the flesh. a deep rumble emerges from the depths of his lungs when your sweet cries are accompanied by a tighter claw of your cunt on his cock, “fuckkk mama— you tryna k-kill me here?”

a rhetorical question, of course, but the probabilities of it are never zero, by the way your misty eyes drag up slowly to meet his darkened ones.

your torso twists as your neck shifts, the love bites near your jugular blossoming into a purplish hue on full display. your smaller frame bounces forward from ruthless pounding, and even as your head jerks from the repetitive attacks, your smile never fades. and the wider your cheeks split, the harder he pistons his length into you.

his heavy balls ache for release, desperately tempted to fill your womb full of his unconditional love, but knows better than to cross that bridge, and instead lurch forward with each stroke to slap at your puffy clit. the additional stimulation forces your teeth to sink into your bottom lip, failing to contain the whimper that crawls out of you.

“tojiiiii,” follows the pathetic sound as his knee knocks into yours to further spread your thighs apart and deepen the exploration of his tip inside your cave. “you fuck me sooo good— can feel you in my s-stomach, baby.”

what a sweet little thing, he thinks smugly, though doesn’t doubt your words in the slightest . he’s positive if he flips you onto your back, the outline of his cock protruding your tummy would be prominent. you always take him so well, possibly better than how he takes you. little to no complaints ever, besides to up the pace or readying up for another round.

toji doesn’t get the chance to answer when he hears the thick sound of your bodies colliding echo in the air. there’s a look of overwhelming lust glazing over your eyes, and it doesn’t take the namely faster point of contact of your ass against his pelvic region to piece together that you’re fucking him back .

as your hips push backwards to chase that euphoria, his own drag forwards in timely manner. the gravitational push and pull of your sweaty bodies in synchrony has long surpassed human comprehension, your battered cunt surely in dire need of a break despite your mind’s own desires, as well as his painful hard-on diving back into the familiarity of home. toji didn’t care enough to let his weary body rest— he’d blow your back out until you personally begged him to stop.

and judging by the subtle throw of your head from his hand wrapping around the column of your neck with pressure applied, he knows that isn’t any time soon.

“that’s it, doll.” toji praises you through an animalistic growl, hooking his thumb in between your gaping mouth, doubling in the groan when you latch onto his digit with pouty lips. “fuckin’ show me how bad you need this dick.”

and show him you do, hips relentless as you bounce on his puncturing cock as if it were your lifeline. he matches your energy effortlessly, his body having a mind of its own as it meets you halfway. there’s bliss spread all over your face, a feeling you’re unable to shield even if you wanted to, as drool slobbers past his calloused knuckles.

the sharp coil in his stomach feels too big for the space it occupies, as it tightens the faster the pace augments. you throw your ass back so hypnotically that toji has no other choice but to spank both cheeks to cease the daze you were pulling him in.

it does no damage, of course, but the reddening hand mark embedded into your jiggly flesh certainly riles him up .

when the glide of his thick cock against a fleshier wall in your cunt has your teeth sinking painfully into the pad of his thumb, he knows you’re near. the soaring pain shoots straight into his balls, the sack twitching in anticipation to release generations worth of hot cum onto you.

not into you— yet, at least.

it starts with heat licking at every limb in his body. then, the tingling buzz in his rib cage. his mind runs miles a second, simultaneous full yet deviated of thoughts, besides a range between putting a ring on your finger as soon as he’s finished shooting blanks and how sinful every dribble of your essence melting into his skin forces a curl of his toes.

and your eyes— god, your eyes.

they don’t leave his for a second. not when the tickle of his pubic hair scratches your ass. not when the back of your thighs meeting the front of his starts to become borderline painful. not even when he pokes at your golden spot like he’s trying to push all your buttons for that explosive reaction. they don’t pull back, barely even blink at all, but stare deep into his emerald ones as if trying to bare his soul open at your disposability.

if your body wasn’t revealing your every desire to fuck like animals, then the look in your eyes most definitely did.

“shit,” he cusses, realizing he’s lost both the battle and the war, “‘m gonna cum.”

your moans come out muffled around his finger, though the excessive nod of your head confirms you’re both on the same wavelength. he feels it in the way your pussy kegels on his dick, practically begging him on your knees to grace you with his nut.

and just who was he to deny you of that right?

though, you beat him to the chase as you suddenly pull forward, just barely, off his cock and robbing him of warmth, and your body convulses in tremors of ecstasy. your jaw slackens and his thumb slips from your mouth, but easily finds your neck and clutches. he then only realizes you’re cumming when your smaller hand wraps around his cock, and drags his tip up and down your slit as you shower him in liquid.

what a sight for sore eyes— your body hardly able to contains its arch as your thighs tremble, and your lips part to cry out his name. his fingers hold a little harder around your neck while you use him to get yourself off, spraying yourself all over. the desperate tugs of his dick at your pussy lips are amplified by the unexpected but never unwelcomed dam that floods.

his chest pants heavily, and the coil in his guts snap. he swears his mind blanks out as he coats your fleshy pussy in hot strings of cum. he doesn’t even try to suppress how desperate his moans come out, not when your upper body slumps into the bed and your ass toots in the air. you let his cock rest in the crack of your ass as he finishes up his heavy load, the evidence leaking from your spine to the dimples in your lower back.

it takes both an infinity and a second for his high to come down, dick jumping weakly against your ass as it empties its contents out. he’s struck with the urge to spank your globes one more time and does just that. “fuckkk,” toji sighs, the tingle in his cock breaching the painful zone as you wiggle your hips back. you’re fucking insatiable, teasing him so.

“come on, old man,” you peer over your shoulder, giggling at the scowl on his face from that god forsaken nickname. he watches as your hand slips beneath your body to knead at his balls, and his cock twitches eagerly at the touch. fucking hell, he’s just as insatiable, “don’t tell me you’re already tappin’ out?”

he knows you’re baiting him. he knows you know he could and would keep you up until sunrise. but dangle a bone in front of a starving dog and watch how fast it’ll lunge. and before he can even bother weighing the pros and cons, he flips you onto your back and rests your legs over his shoulders.

and your smile is telling. i’m gonna be here for a whileee, toji thinks internally as he grips the base of his weeping cock and slips back in.

rena writing for toji????? hello????

[rafasbride]

愛 ⋮ you love teasing rafayel .ᐟ

you don't really tease him, at least not that much.

but when you do, he absolutely loses his mind.

he's in... heat.

and you found that, he is more desperate and whiny during these seasons hence you plan to take advantage of it.

as your straddle him, his cock larger than usual, you feel him shudder below. "uh..." he'd close his eyes, salivating at the feeling of your naked pussy sitting down on his cock.

you're simply atop, pussy not yet enveloping his dick inside yet the amount of pre-cum that has leaked from his tip is such a satisfying sight knowing your effect on him.

"you're so sensitive, baby." you smile at him, arching your back to lean down as you kiss his hot cheeks. "your fault," he says breathless.

smirking, you slowly move your hips to rub your clit on his wet cock—distributing your wetness around the skin as he groans, hand finding your face as he holds your cheeks to push them together, your face making a small pout.

"fu—uuuck, put it in, please..." he's such a big baby, all begging and almost teary eyed. such a complete different person from when he isn't feeling all needy and shit.

a glint in your eye was subtle but rafayel noticed yet didn't do anything, knowing his body is too pliant to react. "nope."

one word, one answer.

his cock twitched.

"wha... why?" his face scrunches to something akin to a frustrated child. you chuckle at his cuteness, grabbing the hand on your face to intertwine them with yours.

"wanna tease you first," cackling quietly, your hips continued their ministration on his heavy cock, watching his reactions; the gasps, the whines, the grunts, the moans, the way he says your name—oh, it was everything.

"cutie, you're... k-killing me h-ereee..." little hics leave his bitten lips, saliva falling down the side of his mouth. you'd catch them with your tongue, starting from the side of his chin up to his open mouth. you'd suck on his sinful tongue, accumulating your own saliva before transferring them to his as you watch how it'd fall down the depths of his throat, his adams apple bobbing indicating he swallowed the liquid.

"so hot..." whispering, you kiss him. hard and desperate just how you both like it as your cunt pulse while rubbing up and down. the almost rough texture of his coxk paired with the prodding veins gave your clit enough stimulation as you moan with him.

"haaah..."

"rafa, so good..."

"fuck meee, oh shit,"

at this point, the entire room was scented of sex and sweat mixed with the smell of the lavender refreshener that you gifted him.

this went on for a few minutes before you start breaking apart before him. now it was rafayel's turn to watch you—mind now a little more clear but still fogged with lust and love.

"gonna cum, darling?" his voice wavered, but despite it, he grabs your disheveled hair to gaze up your eyes.

now you're crying, when it should've been him.

"wanna... cum! fuck, s-sorryyy..." tears freely flow your eyes, nails dragging along his bare chest, leaving red marks on their wake.

he chuckles at your reaction, his own eyes filling with unshead tears. you're so fucking adorable.

he really wanna fuck you into oblivion right now.

all rights reserved, rafasbride 2025

Ი︵𐑼 % dividers from @/cafekitsune

[blueberrisdove-sideblog]

𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐌𝐄𝐀𝐋, － 𝒻𝓉． ℳ𝒴𝒟ℰℐℳ𝒪𝒮

✧ tws : fem!reader. nsfw/smut, rough s*x, p*ssy eating, overstimulation, c*mplay, creampie (vaginal s*x), degradation, mydei plays with your aśś, marking, biting and manhandling.

✧ synopsis : Sitting on Mydei’s throne should’ve felt like power, but with him kneeling between your legs, devouring you like you’re his last meal, it’s clear who’s really in control. His touch is rough, his tongue relentless, and by the time he finally presses his cock inside you, you’re already ruined. He fucks you like he owns you—because he does. And when he spills deep inside, filling you to the brim, he makes one thing clear: you’re not leaving his throne until he’s had his fill.

note : art header is by : rororo_mg on X. minors do not interact.

The cold metal of Mydei’s throne presses against your bare thighs, the sheer weight of his presence settling between them as he kneels before you. His large hands, rough and calloused, grip your hips, keeping you spread wide for him. His golden eyes gleam with something dark and possessive, his smirk lazy but hungry as he leans in, pressing a teasing kiss against your inner thigh.

“Baby,” he murmurs, voice deep and smooth like honeyed wine, “look at you sittin’ all pretty on my throne. Think you deserve it?”

You can barely think, barely breathe, with the way his breath ghosts over your soaked folds. His fingers dig into the plush of your thighs, keeping you open, vulnerable—helpless beneath his gaze. The cool air against your slick heat makes you squirm, but he only chuckles, tilting his head.

“Don’t run from me now,” Mydei drawls, dragging his tongue up your slit in a slow, deliberate stroke that makes you jolt. He groans against you, lapping up the wetness that spills onto his tongue. “Shit… you taste fuckin’ sweet.”

His mouth is sinful, his tongue curling around your clit, flicking and sucking with the perfect amount of pressure. He devours you like you’re his last meal, hands tightening their grip every time your hips try to jerk away from the overwhelming pleasure.

You whimper, hands tangling in his dark locks, tugging helplessly as he buries himself between your thighs. He moans into your cunt, sending vibrations up your spine, his fingers slipping between your folds to spread you open further for his tongue.

“Mydei—!” you cry, thighs trembling around his head.

“Yeah, baby?” His words are muffled, spoken against your dripping heat before he sucks your clit into his mouth, making your back arch off the throne. His fingers sink into you, curling just right, stretching you open as he devours you like a man starved.

His throne was built for him, but right now, he’s worshiping at your feet. And from the way he’s eating you out—like he’d rather suffocate between your thighs than breathe—you might just have him wrapped around your finger.

But then he growls against your cunt, eyes dark as he meets your gaze.

“No,” he murmurs, licking the slick from his lips. “You’re the one who belongs to me.”

And with that, he presses you down against the throne, holding you in place as he feasts on you until all you can do is scream his name.

Mydei doesn’t stop. He never does. Not until you’re a shaking mess on his throne, your legs locked around his head, your voice hoarse from crying his name. His tongue works you open with slow, teasing licks before plunging back in, his fingers thrusting deep, curling just right—just how he knows makes you break.

You’re soaked, dripping down onto the throne, onto his face, and the sight of him between your legs—golden eyes hooded, lips glossy with your slick—is enough to have you clenching around his fingers. He groans at the feeling, his cock straining against his pants, aching to be inside you.

“Fuck, baby,” he growls, pulling back just enough to breathe, to watch the way you tremble. His fingers pull out of you, dragging through your wetness before he licks them clean, smirking when your breath catches. “You’re gonna take me now, yeah?”

You barely have time to nod before he’s undoing his belt, freeing his cock from his tight pants. He’s thick, flushed, leaking at the tip, and the sight alone makes your cunt clench in anticipation. Mydei leans over you, caging you against the throne as he lines himself up, rubbing the swollen head of his cock against your entrance.

“Say it,” he murmurs, voice low and dangerous. “Tell me who you belong to.”

“You,” you whimper, nails digging into his shoulders. “Yours, Mydei—please, just—”

He thrusts in all at once, knocking the breath from your lungs. The stretch burns, your walls clamping down around him, but fuck, it feels so good. He groans, dropping his head into the crook of your neck, his breath hot against your skin.

“Shit,” he hisses, his hands gripping your thighs, pushing them up to fold you beneath him. “You’re so fuckin’ tight, baby. Always takin’ me so well.”

He doesn’t wait. Mydei fucks you like he owns you—because he does. His cock drags against your walls, hitting deep with every thrust, the lewd sounds of skin slapping against skin filling the grand throne room. His grip is bruising, his pace relentless, his teeth sinking into your shoulder as he growls against your skin.

Your moans turn into broken cries, pleasure coiling deep in your gut, winding tighter with every rough snap of his hips. His thumb finds your clit, rubbing fast, and that’s what does it—your body seizing as your orgasm crashes through you, leaving you gasping, legs trembling as you milk his cock.

Mydei curses, his rhythm stuttering, his thrusts growing erratic as he buries himself as deep as he can go. His cock twitches, his grip tightening, and then—warmth floods you, his cum spilling deep inside, filling you up until you feel like you might overflow. He stays there, panting against your neck, rocking his hips just enough to push it deeper.

After a moment, he pulls back, dragging a hand through his damp hair as he looks down at you—fucked-out and still spread open on his throne, his cum leaking out of you. A smirk tugs at his lips as he gathers some on his fingers, pushing it back inside with a lazy hum.

“Not done with you yet, baby,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your lips, his cock already hardening again. “You’re sittin’ on my throne. That means you gotta handle everything I give you.”

Mydei doesn’t give you a chance to recover. His hands grip your thighs, keeping them spread as he watches his cum leak from your overstimulated cunt, glistening against your skin. His golden eyes darken with something possessive, something insatiable.

“Look at that,” he murmurs, dragging his thumb through the mess he’s made, pushing it back inside with slow, deliberate strokes. “You’re still so fuckin’ full, baby… but I’m not done with you yet.”

Before you can respond, he’s lifting you, turning you over so you’re kneeling on the throne, ass up, your face pressed against the cool metal. His large hands spread you open, admiring the way his cum drips down your thighs. You shiver as his fingers tease between your folds, smearing the mix of your slick and his release.

“Stay just like that,” Mydei growls, his voice thick with hunger. “Gonna make sure you really know who you belong to.”

The blunt head of his cock presses against your soaked entrance again, and he thrusts in without warning, forcing a strangled moan from your lips. The new angle has him hitting even deeper, his cock stretching you open all over again, pushing the cum inside even further.

“Fuck, baby,” he groans, gripping your hips tight as he starts moving, his pace rough, unrelenting. “You feel so good like this… takin’ me so fuckin’ well.”

Each thrust slams you forward, the sound of skin meeting skin echoing in the grand throne room. He grips your ass, spreading you wider, his fingers digging into the plush flesh as he watches his cock disappear inside you over and over.

“You were made for this,” he mutters, dragging a hand up your spine before tangling it in your hair, yanking your head back so you arch for him. “Made to be fucked right here, on my throne.”

His hand slides down, palm smacking against your ass, the sharp sting sending heat straight to your core. He groans at the way you clench around him, his thrusts growing rougher, more desperate.

“Mydei—!” you cry, your body trembling as another orgasm crashes over you, your walls tightening around his cock. He curses, his rhythm stuttering as your tight heat milks him, dragging him to his own release.

With a low growl, he slams deep one final time, spilling inside you again, his cum filling you up until it leaks past the tight seal of your cunt. He stays there, panting, pressing kisses to your shoulder as he watches it drip down your thighs.

After a moment, he pulls out, watching his seed spill from your spent hole. He smirks, gripping your hips to keep you from collapsing.

“Don’t think we’re done yet, baby,” Mydei purrs, running his fingers through the mess between your legs before pressing them against your other hole, smearing his cum over the tight ring of muscle. “I said I was gonna fill you up, didn’t I?”

His cock is already hardening again. And from the way he spreads you open, teasing at your untouched hole, you know he means it.

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

[ferociouslycreativemystery]

En såndär bockjävel eller vad fan det heter

↳ sytråd och virknål 0,6 mm + bonus: biblically accurate julbock

Note: I moved this under a read more since donations can no longer be made here. Feel free to make some to a charity of your choice though!

Did you know it used to be the Christmas goat that brought you your presents in Sweden?

To keep the spirit alive, you can officially make a donation in the name of this little crochet goat to support everyone's right to survive their pregnancy! Just go to this link and follow these steps:

Please note that this collection only remains active until 15 Dec 2024! More information about the organisers can be found at the bottom of this post.

On the right hand side/top of the linked page, you can see the current sum of donations. Below that are some options we need to fill out to make a donation of our own.

First we need to disclose whether the donation is being made by a private individual (Privatperson) or a business (Företag). I'm assuming you're a private individual, so leave the first option selected (on the left).

Next we choose the method of payment. "Swish" is a Swedish payment service that won't work for foreigners, and if you're Swedish I'm assuming you already know how it works. Foreigners, please choose the second option to pay by card (Kort).

Now for the fun bit! How much do you want to donate? The standard options are presented in Swedish krona (kr). I have put the rough exchange rates to US dollars for each option below:

50 kr ≈ $4.56 | 100 kr ≈ $9.13 | 300 kr ≈ $27.38

You can convert from your currency to Swedish krona using this tool. Just choose your own currency in the first drop-down menu ("from").

In the final field you have the option to instead enter your own amount, if you want to give less or more or in between any of the previous options. Note that the amount you enter is in Swedish krona, so look up the exchange rates so that you know how much you are giving if you choose this option!!

The final two check boxes are options that relate to the public display of your donation (see the bottom of the page). If you don't check either option, your donation amount will be visible but your name will not be.

Check the first box if you want your name to show up in the public list of donations, leave it unchecked to remain anonymous. Check the second box if you want to hide the amount you've donated, leave it unchecked to show the world your donation amount.

Finally, hit the red button to be taken to the payment page. Fulfil the payment, and be sure to double check the amount you're donating. Note that we use commas instead of dots to separate decimals in Swedish, so 50,00 kr means simply 50 kr.

And that's it! Thank you so much for your donation!! 🥳🐐

Please reblog this post so that more people will hopefully donate, or at least get to enjoy a tiny Gävlebock!

What is this charity thing?

Musikhjälpen is an annual charity event organised by the Swedish public broadcasters. Every year in December, 3 hosts are locked in a glass cage for a week and they broadcast in shifts, nonstop for 144 hours (6 days, 24 hours per day) to create an occasion for charity donations. They are visited by various music artist, celebrities, and talk to people who have special knowledge about the donation theme of the year or who organise initiatives for donations. You can watch clips of previous performances on their youtube channel here.

The event's official donations website also allows the public to set up their own "initiatives", to which donations can be made. This is what I have done! The money goes directly to the event organisers (the public broadcasters' aid agency, Radiohjälpen), who then pool all the money that is collected during the week. After the week is done they will begin portioning it out to trusted charities that are relevant to this year's theme. This year's theme is Alla har rätt att överleva sin graviditet, or in English: Everyone Has a Right to Survive Their Pregnancy.

Learn more about musikhjälpen on English Wikipedia or on Sveriges radio's website (in Swedish).

Or

If you prefer, the goat will be just as happy if you make a donation to a charity of your choice. You'll have to find links to other causes on your own though! 😊

I should probably also mention that I am in no way officially affiliated with Gävlebocken, I just crocheted a little guy and thought it would be nice to spread some constructive spirit among all the calls for arson. 😇

[qqueenofhades]

I think its genuinely fascinating how Biden has somehow become the bad vibes sin eater for the party. I'm seeing people who were doing the whole "voting doesn't matter both old men are the same" pivot hard into voting as harm reduction. The anti voting rhetoric has COMPLETELY lost The Youths on tiktok. People suddenly remember the good things the Biden administration has done but don't associate Harris with any of the things they didn't like. In my swing state volunteers are signing up in droves. People feel ENERGIZED, the vibe shift pre and post Biden dropping from the race has just been insane

Y'know, that is a... good way of putting it. It's also why I'm quite sure that Biden has probably been planning it for a while. I don't think he was intending to step down, and didn't want to be forced out at the drop of a hat, but after he realized that the circus was never going to stop until he did, he did the honorable fall-on-his-own-sword thing and definitely, DEFINITELY spent some time choreographing this behind the scenes. Because while the roll-out has been very smooth, it could just as easily (as many of us were expecting) have been a total disaster, and that doesn't happen without SOME planning. It's also entirely possible that the campaign staff flipped from Biden to Harris are superhuman, to come up with a massive online roll-out, new branding, new signs (they had plenty of 'em in Wisconsin yesterday), new everything, but I'm guessing it's a combination of both. Biden has spent his entire political career being underestimated, and after we literally made a meme out of Dark Brandon juking the Republicans out of their shoes, we should definitely give credit where credit is due in how masterfully he pulled it off.

Because we have had eight years defined by the central question of Whether The President Is a God King Who Should Serve For Life (the MAGAts obviously think yes), the sheer idea of a president willingly giving up his power BEFORE he had to is also novel and admirable. It's sad that this is the case, but so be it. The Republicans also got a heaping helping of Be Careful What You Wish For that was undoubtedly brilliant; they've been yelling for years that Biden is old and frail and can't serve and should step down. Biden went "lol okay" and gave it to them, and now they're fucked.

Aside from that, on the most basic level, it's far, far easier to see the actual difference in the parties with Harris as the nominee, just because it shows that one party is willing to make progress and reflect the new demographic reality and social mores of America, and the other one is not. Now to be clear, Biden deserves an incredible amount of credit for coming out of retirement (he was ALREADY 77 years old when he became president and had had decades of a long and respected career in public service behind him) to fight, beat Trump, and deliver an incredibly successful presidency. He held the line against authoritarianism at home and abroad, he rescued the trashed American economy and managed a world-leading recovery from Covid, he stood up for democracy, he spent four years filling the benches with liberal judges to reverse even some of the Trump/McConnell hack job, he finally passed comprehensive infrastructure investment and the Green New Deal under the name of the Inflation Reduction Act -- and so on. Many of these priorities had been languishing for decades or were completely trashed under Trump, and he could not have done so much in just 4 years without all that age, skill, and experience. Hence why all the Ageism!!! was (aside from being a Republican/media smear job) dumb. He's able to do the job because he has had decades to study. Turns out that makes you actually pretty damn good at it.

Yes, Biden could not do as much as he wanted or originally planned, had to deal with MAGA Republicans and Joe Manchin/Kyrsten Sinema sabotaging him the whole time (lololol Manchin, possible possessor of the World's Biggest Ego and with Trump around that's saying something, popping out of obscurity to self-righteously announce he would not be willing to be Kamala's VP. YEAH ASSHOLE. LITERALLY NOBODY ASKED YOU. NOBODY WHATSOEVER. NO MATTER WHAT HAPPENS AT LEAST WE WILL SOON NO LONGER HAVE MANCHIN IN THE SENATE). And yes, Biden made some serious mistakes of his own, because he IS from an older generation and a different style of doing politics/different beliefs that no longer resonate with the younger segments of the electorate. But this old white Catholic guy at the age of almost 80 still managed to be the most progressive president ever, coming in at a moment of incredible domestic and international crisis and getting us safely to the other side, and all cynicism, criticizing, and caveating aside, he deserves an incredible amount of credit for that. I mean that absolutely, and I am very grateful.

As I said, willingly relinquishing that power takes guts, and when Biden saw the writing on the wall that he had to sacrifice himself, he took his time, he didn't jump too early, and he didn't jump too late. On the most basic level, it becomes a hell of a lot easier to make the "both parties are not the same" argument when one is running a (comparatively) young brown woman and the other is still running their loathed felonious old demented orange traitor. Most Americans are not plugged into policy minutiae and details. They look at Biden-Trump, they see two old white guys. When you take one of those old white guys away (who goes in a self-sacrificially heroic manner and in sharp contrast with the coup-happy fascist) and put Kamala Harris in there instead, it generates an obvious jolt. People can see for themselves that there is a real difference that doesn't rely on closely reading news and tracking complex policy, because as noted, most Americans simply don't. The brown first-generation American daughter of brown immigrants is a quantifiably different story from "old white guy career politician," which for better or worse is how Biden was seen, especially the old part. We needed that establishment expertise to beat Trump in 2020; I still think Biden is the only one who could have done it, and as noted, we owe him a great debt for doing so.

However.... 2024 is not 2020, and it is not 2016. There has been this HUGE and unbelievable swing to Kamala because she represents the antithesis of what the last eight years of Trump-induced anger, fear, panic, chaos, and hatred has stirred up. That's why people are so ready to rally around her, just as they were (I daresay) around Obama in 2008, after the exhaustion, chaos, war, and mounting economic misery of Bush. Trump has been out of office for the last four years, but his shadow over the American political landscape has been omnipresent. Now people know that we finally have a real chance at getting rid of him forever, and just as Biden was uniquely positioned to capitalize on that in 2020, so Harris is now. Which is why, however tough it will be, she has a real shot at winning. I can guarantee the Republicans know that, and are shit scared. Because the Black Lady Army of Democracy has indeed arrived in force to Get This Shit Done and I don't know about you, but I found that incalculably comforting:

Yikes! All lined up for Kamala pic.twitter.com/Dt4OCDp7WX

— Alex Cole (@acnewsitics) July 24, 2024

This, at the most basic level, is what scares fascists the most, it's exactly what we need now, and what Harris is uniquely positioned to mobilize, along with her gangbusters appeal to young voters:

This is the energy we need. This is what Biden saw and planned for and which he launched us into, and where all that experience and age paid off. This is why people, even people otherwise disengaged, disillusioned, or checked out of the tedious and mind-numbering drudgery and depression of American politics, are responding to it. Because it's easy to understand, it offers hope, and it tells a very simple story that is nonetheless long overdue:

Thanks so much, Joe. Go absolutely waste that orange fucker, Kamala. We got your back.