#snake enhancements

[cupcakeshakesnake]

"Ironically, due to its lack of limbs, the snake became one of the most cybernetically enhanceable creatures on land."

[cringeyvanillamilk]

Revisited my alt design for Hancock! 🐍👑

Some design notes:

More snake motif through accessories.

Greek inspired fashion given origin.

Appearance is more royal.

Has wavy hair to match sisters, but more tamed in comparison.

Wears makeup and nail polish for extra beauty.

Fur of slayed beast to showcase strength and pride.

More gold and purple accents for regal vibe.

Has a muscular built, but hard to tell with clothing. Def has a six pack.

[omg-snakes]

[hyperboreandad-82]

Metal Gear Solid 4 Guns of the Patriots

AI Enhanced PNG Transparent

[fisheito]

sometimes, the silhouettes have an ambiguity to them that fosters a mystery-teehee-??-guessy-game. this is not one of those times

[rolex-kaard]

ultratober day 4

[wuffgang-ameowdeus-moozart]

whenever someone reads a prequel or a retelling and complains about knowing how it will end since the beginning I'm like. bro. dude. bitch. however you prefer to be referred to.

✨THATS THE FUCKING POINT✨

It's about the tragedy of reading all the ways the characters are unknowingly building towards the very same fate they are so desperately trying to avoid.

ITS ABOUT THE BITTERSWEET JOY OF KNOWING THEIR STORY IS STILL WORTH TELLING.

REGARDLESS OF HOW IT ENDS.

if your story is only good when reading through it the first time? if the reading experience is spoiled by knowing what happens?? (pun fully intended) it's not that well crafted a story imo.

Sometimes it's not about what is going to happen. Sometimes it's about reinterpreting the characters. Sometimes it's about exploring themes through a story we already know.

Sometimes the storytelling is enhanced by knowing how it is going to end.

[moonstonecanyon]

(02/12/2024).

Oh my god I finally finished a ref for Jagged after 2000 years of struggling please be proud of me sobs

[simplegenius042]

"What Kind Of Love Are You?" OC Quiz & "Every OC List Got The ___"

Tagged by @adelaidedrubman @imogenkol @voidika @shellibisshe and @aceghosts

Tagging @socially-awkward-skeleton @noodlecupcakes @josephseedismyfather @inafieldofdaisies @icecutioner @derelictheretic @shallow-gravy @direwombat @strangefable @rhettsabbott @josephslittledeputy @cloudofbutterflies92 @skoll-sun-eater @cassietrn @carlosoliveiraa @g0dspeeed @wrathfulrook @afarcryfrommymain @strafethesesinners @turbo-virgins @raresvtm @softtidesworld @starsandskies @ladyoriza @la-grosse-patate @florbelles @titiagls @minilev @yokobai @thewanderer-000 @omen-speaker @justasmolbard @alypink @thesingularityseries and @nightwingshero + anyone else who'd like to join.

Four results for my OCs for this quiz and four OC Lists for four of my series.

JOAQUIN COBALT (THE UNTITLEDVERSE)

This feels accurate for Joaquin considering he begins The UnTitledverse as an adolescent, and the series follows his growth and youth to adulthood. Joaquin has the weight of the world (or rather multiverse) on him, but, he still has time to be a child, to be a teen, to be his own identity, with Maisie, Mario, Calvin and all his found family and friends to share the weight.

SILVA OMAR (THE SILVER CHRONICLES [FAR CRY 5 & FAR CRY NEW DAWN])

Religious themes (including the trauma) for Silva go brrr! Like what else is there to say?

HAOYU ANABUKI (LIFE, DESPAIR & MONSTERS)

Yeah this makes sense for them. Haoyu is someone who's not used to love and when it comes it is gonna be the most life-changing thing for them. For once something they will have to make a commitment towards keeping if they want it. Haoyu is also the type to go in a panic as well as overthink; including full-on denial.

MARISSA "RESS" BISHOP (A RADIOACTIVE CALAMITY OF LOVE, BOMBS & GORE [FALLOUT])

While this definitely suits Ress at her best, I don't think it encapsulates everything about her. Because while Ress' love is bountiful and ageless and endless... there's also the fear of losing it all, because Ress will outlive everyone she knows because her own natural mortality outlasts everyone else's. The only person that would be around the longest with her (and meet her at what would be considered old age for a hybrid species like them) would have been her older half-brother, Ore... but even that is cruelly taken away from her by their father Urias and his Occult. Yeah, so while this definitely does shine a light on the happiness and thrill Ress would feel with her lover (prime example being Piper), it doesn't acknowledge the grief she'd eventually have to face.

Now for the OC List, I decided to go with OCs from all four/five of my series; The UnTitledverse, The Silver Chronicles, Life, Despair & Monsters and a shared list with my Fallout series A Radioactive Calamity Of Love, Bombs & Gore and my original series An Old Ballad Of Chance And Ember Hearts Trilogy (which includes my Wings And Horns WIP that this trilogy spins off from). So yeah... enjoy! [NOTE: This will include art/doodles, reference pictures (for the art/doodles that I still haven't been skilled enough to draw) and faceclaims]:

THE UNTITLEDVERSE

Lisa Cobalt | Malcolm Darling | Mario Emmet Jester | Madame Callaghan | Lillian "Lena" Elliot Greenpeace | Allyson "Alice" Darling | Edward Carmine Calvin Dearing | Joaquin Cobalt | Rick Thompson

[My (Incomplete) Art: Malcolm Darling, Mario Emmet and Jester]

THE SILVER CHRONICLES

Oscar Lapis | Father Adam Omar | Silva's Third Eye Elsa Omar | Paul Yellowjack | Silva Omar Azriel Omar | Nadi Sinclair | Kamski Neon Alexander Khaos | Gavin Turquoise | Mercy Omar-Seed | Ezekiel

[My (Incomplete) Art: Silva's Third Eye (or at least what its spiritual physically looks like if you're potent in the Third Eye... or a certain New God shitting bricks at the sight of this hungry symbiotic cretin)]

LIFE, DESPAIR & MONSTERS

Yan | Frederick Rosemary | The Unity Hatter | Icarus Galatos | Hatsukami Hinode | Xavier Tulip | Haoyu Anabuki Rico | Eden "Evie" Bloodleech | Sonya | Sir Enigma Malvolio | The Court King Denise Redwood | Lora | Cecil Royce | Corvus Targaryen

[Image Reference Credits: Vecna from Stranger Things, The Stupendium in "The Toybox", The Core from Amphibia, an edited Mad Hatter from Alice In Wonderland, Kraang One's Exosuit from Rise Of The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles Movie and artwork of that Jester King done by CristianAC on Steam]

A RADIOACTIVE CALAMITY OF LOVE, BOMBS & GORE + WINGS AND HORNS

Elrand Brandt the Vault Dweller | Aggravor the Accursed | Arcane Urias Xiang Ba'al | Vega the Resident | Marissa "Ress" Bishop Alph Dolen the Lone Wanderer | Ryder the Courier Six | Discord the Mad Kin of Carnage Ortega "Ore" Brantley | Archangel Metatron | Finidy Mona the Chosen One | Nate Gust Sarid the Sole Survivor

[Image Reference Credits: Vecna from Stranger Things, Annihilus from Marvel Comics, Kagetane Hiruko from Black Bullet, LorenzoArt's Caedis from Instagram, NCR Veteran Ranger from Fallout: New Vegas and art of Archangel Metatron that I found posted on Quora]

[Faceclaims (which might or might not change): The UnTitledverse: Beanie Feldstein for Lisa Cobalt, Scarlett Johanson for Madame Callaghan, Elizabeth Gilles for Lillian "Lena" Elliot, Sean McLoughlin for Greenpeace, Anya Taylor-Joy for Allyson "Alice" Darling, Benedict Cumberbatch for Edward Carmine, Laurence Fishburne for Calvin Dearing, Isiaiah Stannard for Joaquin Cobalt and Aaron Moten for Rick Thompson. The Silver Chronicles: Mario Casas for Oscar Lapis, Brad Garrett for Father Adam Omar, Juliana Alves for Elsa Omar, Gabriel Garko for Paul Yellowjack, Mina El Hammani for Deputy Silva Omar, Aria Goodson for Azriel Omar, Aïssa Maïga for Nadi Sinclair, Andre Royo for Kamski "the Good Doctor" Neon, Taron Egerton for Alexander Khaos, Matthew McConaughey for Gavin Turquoise, Emily Tosta for Mercy Omar-Seed and Álex González for Captain Ezekiel of Security. Life, Despair & Monsters: Daniel Padilla for Icarus Galatos, Hatsukami Hinode & Xavier Tulip, Hikaru Utada for Haoyu Anabuki, Wilmer Calderon for Rico, Nathalie Emmanuel for Eden "Evie" Bloodleech, Rami Malek for Sir Enigma Malvolio, Odette Annable for Denise Redwood, Karen Fukuhara for Lora, Mia Goth for Cecil Royce and Daniel Radcliffe for Corvus Targaryen. A Radioactive Calamity Of Love, Bombs & Gore: Jason Statham for Elrand Brandt the Vault Dweller, Yvonne Strahovski for Vega the Resident, Beyonce for Marissa "Ress" Bishop, Sam Blanckensee for Alph Dolen the Lone Wanderer, Halle Berry for Ryder the Courier Six, Jessica Alba for Finidy Mona the Chosen One and Steven He for Nate Gust Sarid the Sole Survivor.

[random-wiki-articles]

Below is an article that goes more into her life and shows her art. One of her art pieces is a split level dog house. Protecting herself is a major theme in her work which I thought was really interesting.

[omg-snakes]

Her mom's unflappable sweetness, her dad's sense for the camera. HC23F5 is destined for greatness.

[fogaminghub]

🚨 Big news! 🚨 Metal Gear Solid Delta: Snake Eater is launching on August 28, 2025! 🎮 Prepare yourself for a reimagined classic with modern gameplay, dual play styles, and the enhanced camouflage system that you’ve been waiting for! 

Plus, the fan-favorite Snake vs Monkey mode is back and better than ever! 🐒 Don’t forget to check out the Standard and Digital Deluxe Editions available for pre-order! 🎁 

Are you ready to step back into the shoes of Naked Snake? 🌿

[hyperboreandad-82]

[angstandhappiness]

NICE

Lamb training? 👀

Ok now I made their arms correctly JSJS-

[lovelybucky1]

need bucky to fuck me to the view of the watchtower whilst yelena watches

bucky has you against the floor-to-ceiling window of his bedroom and you look out over park avenue with your breasts, hands, and cheek pressed against the glass. this is how you christened his bedroom when you first moved in, and it's become something of a routine for the two of you. you like the thrill of someone potentially catching you, though it's unlikely from so high up. and bucky, well, he like's the view of your ass.

you look out the window, taking in the sight of the orange sunset glittering through the metallic buildings. it's always so beautiful from up here, especially this time of day. you're looking across the street when something catches your eye; something that you've never seen before.

there's a person on the roof of the building directly across from you, and they're staring right at you. you almost convince yourself that you're seeing things, but then the person waves. your breath hitches, partly in fear of being watched, but it's not enough for you to tell bucky to stop.

"what's the matter, doll?" bucky asks, his voice a deep rumble in your ear.

"there's someone... watching," you say.

"they can't see you from all the way down there. got nothin' to worry about."

"no, bucky," you huff. "look."

he looks up and follows your pointing finger to find the person you're talking about. he is quiet for a moment before he begins to chuckle.

"not what i thought she meant when she said she was goin' for a walk," he says as he snakes his arm around your middle. he pulls you away from the glass and presses his chest flush to your back.

"what?" you ask, eyes still locked on the vouyer.

"be polite and wave to yelena, sweetheart," he says, the smirk evident in his voice.

you're barely able to make out her blonde hair and black tactical suit, but it's enough to confirm what bucky said. you hesitantly wave; you're mortified but you don't want to disobey bucky and make this situation even worse than it already is.

"what is she doing up here?" you ask.

"might've said somethin' about fuckin' you against the glass. guess she wanted to see for herself." he says it like it's casual, the most normal thing in the world to want to see how your teammate fucks his girlfriend. "we should put on a show for her, don't ya think?"

she sits down on the edge of the building and crosses her legs, making herself comfortable. you're surprised she didn't come with a bucket of popcorn as well. the hold bucky has on your waist tightens and his other hand travels up your body until it rests at the base of your throat.

"bucky," you moan. you should tell him to stop, that you don't want yelena to see you like this, but you can't. you like it. but you can't tell if you like being watched, or like her watching.

"i think she's got a thing for you, doll. look at the way she's lookin' at you." she's too far away for you to see the intricate details of her face, but you trust bucky's enhanced senses to pick up on her expression. "bet these are the prettiest tits she's ever seen."

you reach back to run your hand through bucky's hair, gently tugging on the roots which makes him groan. having his hair played with always drives him crazy. he bites the soft skin under your ear, his stubble scraping against your neck. he's trying his absolute hardest to ruin you.

suddenly, you're interrupted by a melodic chime. bucky's phone, which is buried in the pile of clothes on the floor next to you, is ringing. much to your dismay, bucky stops fucking you to pick it up, though he resumes when he hits the answer button.

he puts the phone on speaker and holds it up next to you, where you can read yelena on the display. you look across the street and see her holding her own cellphone up to her ear.

"is this the best you can do, barnes?"

"you tellin' me how to fuck my girl?"

"i was expecting a show." it's embarrassing how much it's turning you on that they're talking about you like you're not even there. "i could do better and my dick isn't even real."

"why don't you come over and show me how it's done, then?"

you don't realize the call disconnects. you don't even realize yelena has left the roof until you hear a knock at the door.

"think we've got ourselves a guest, doll," bucky says.

[swordgrace]

𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐞.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: john walker x fem!reader.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.7K.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: smut (mdni), porn no plot, pure filth, john walker is a munch, cunnilingus, oral sex (fem!rec), face-sitting, john walker’s praise kink, making out, beard burn from john, hair-pulling.

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: this is the face-sitting ficlet that was promised. don’t go into this expecting plot bc this got me freaked up ngl ,,, hope y’all enjoy. 🫶

Careworn palms mold themselves to the swell of your hips, threatening to snake over your ass, digits scratching across satiny cotton.

Through the gloam of a hushed dusk, you’re firmly slotted in John’s lap, one of his military shirts hanging from your frame, panties clinging underneath.

He quiets when his mouth is busy, bravado and swagger sucked dry, exchanged for a tangled snare of passionate kisses. Hips languidly roll against his, as if to test the limits, and he squirms.

A pleasant sting settles within his chest, dismissed through your mouth, clamoring over his, slick with spit and desperation.

Excited hands trace over his thick biceps, smattered in faint freckles and nearly-healed bruises, yellowing knots over sun-kissed skin. Digits hook against the nape of his neck, crawling into blonde tresses.

John wouldn’t confess to this, but you make him nervous — something to lose, as if you might dissipate between his fingers like dust in the wind.

Every drawn-out embrace of your mouth makes him ache in a way he never thought possible, ravenous for you, as if you’re the last thing he’ll ever have. Calloused palms drop to your thighs, kneading over pliant flesh, savoring soft skin.

His stamina outweighs yours, enhanced by the serum, giving him the ability to endure; he’s struggling when your hips grind against his.

Muscle envelops you, the brawn of his physique a canvas for your kisses, mouth untangling as you plant your lips over his jaw. A hitch forms at the bottom of his throat, subtle; you catch it, satisfaction rippling through you.

The shadow of his beard scratches your mouth, itching some lascivious part of your brain, the one that craves him like air.

“God, you’re beautiful,” John sighs with rapture, husky timbre vibrating beside your ear; he grips your thigh a little tighter, as if to accentuate his statement. “Drivin’ me crazy.” He whispers, nose ghosting over your temple.

Georgian drawls sink into his cadence whenever his voice lowers, and it’s effective, cutting into your belly like a hot knife. Heat warms the back of your neck, slithering throughout your body, leaving you aching for more.

Lashes kiss the soft skin beneath your eyes, gooseflesh spreading from where his thumb circles over your thigh, his caress grounding you.

He eases back, flattening against the mattress, arching one arm beneath his head. The position is comfortable, smug; something incendiary crackles beneath his cerulean hues.

Still perched within his lap, your head cants to one side, palms splaying flat over his abdomen. “Where are you going?” You hum, nonplussed as you prepare to give chase.

His bicep flexes behind his head, gaze eclipsed by desire as he rubs one palm over your thigh, hitching within the crook of your knee. “Nowhere,” John utters, chin jutting up. “Take those off.”

There’s a lack of staunch dominance within his tone, but you obey anyway, swallowing the swell of excitement that threatens to burst from your chest.

Eager fingers hook into your panties, worming from the snug material with ease. Cotton pools somewhere at the foot of your bed, bare cunt ghosting over the swell in his sweatpants.

“Come here.” The attractive rasp that clings to his purr makes your stomach tight with butterflies, arousal slick as you attempt to shove your legs together.

Wordlessly, you’re inclined to obey, body floating as you awkwardly climb up his chest, silky thighs straddling his chest. The full brunt of your weight neglects to sink onto him, gaze radiantly doe-eyed.

Between charged glances and an absent wetting of his bottom lip, you discern what he’s after, throat becoming unbearably snug. “John, I don’t think this is a good idea. What if I —”

“I can handle it, honey.” John placates, tone climbing with enthusiasm, pitched with an excitable sigh. Roughened fingers tense behind your knee, preparing to drag you closer.

The heady use of his affection pet-name for you makes you squirm, body caged within a coil of heat, spine quivering with a shiver. Still, you’re hesitant, rocked up upon your knees to redistribute the weight elsewhere.

Rough palms coax you closer, and he’s silently pleading, begging for you to bridge the gap and sit on his face. He’s itching, gaze burning right through you, still caressing your thigh out of pure reassurance, hoping to put you at-ease.

Coaxed, you kneel above his head, knees wedged on either side of him, beard prickling your flesh. Tingles crawl over your spine, electricity blazing through your nerves as he holds you.

“Still don’t trust me?” John murmurs, planting a reverent kiss against your thigh, cock throbbing with a sudden ache when your hand reaches down, tugging at his scalp.

Words work faster than your brain, “You’ll have to earn it.” As the wanton utterance slips past your mouth, his pupils dilate, black eclipsing blue, jaw beginning to slack.

Taking this as some sort of unspoken challenge, a fire burns within his gaze, as if he’s trying to win. He kisses a slow trail over your leg, beard scratching ragged, accompanied by an occasional scrape of teeth.

Lips flush against your inner thigh, brief, drawing a shudder from your spine, feeling his mouth climb to the warmth oozing between your legs.

His chest erupts with a shallow grunt, hands firm on the back of your legs. John pulls you lower, glowering at you from between your thighs, blonde brows creased with concentration.

Still, you’re hovering, perched; unwilling to relinquish your weight, your hand darts out to brace against the wall, sucking in a sharp breath.

The first lap of his tongue is broad, flat over your aching slit, beard stinging your silky flesh. He’s watching you, the smoldering eye contact enough to make your cunt clench around nothing at all.

Tonguing across your cunt, the bittersweet bite of your arousal floods his mouth, and he welcomes it, molding his lips to your core. It stirs a flame within your belly, pooling heat, making you writhe.

“Fuck,” In a sluggish, drawn-out exhale, your fingers card through his crown, nails lightly perusing over his scalp. John shivers, cock throbbing, straining against the front of his pants. “John, s’good.”

His tongue rakes embers across your cunt, nearly ripping the air from your lungs. The sensation is dizzying, and he treats it as if it’s a competition, striving to be the best at fucking you with his mouth.

The tip of his nose brushes against your folds, but even that isn’t good enough; he wants to be smothered, buried. He can feel you teetering above him as if you’re adverse to sinking down fully.

With slow, eager laps of his tongue, John made sure to savor you, letting the flat of his tongue fall heavy across your clit. His name plumes from your mouth like a prayer.

“Jesus, would you sit down?” With an impatient growl, the sharp command makes your thighs twitch, knees buckling as they collapse beneath the weight of his words.

Smitten, you drop all at once, as if you’re mere putty, malleable within his hands. Relinquishing your weight onto his face, he groans, the noise vibrating through your core.

He grips you like a vice, caging you firmly against his head, nose grazing your mound. Keeping you anchored to his mouth, he’s consuming you like a man starved, deprived of sustenance.

Pleasure jolts through your body in shockwaves, piercing your belly, slicking between your thighs as your hips urge forward. The friction isn’t unwanted with him; he’s messy, ravenous.

Sometimes, you despise how good he is at this — how incredible he makes you feel. You’re collapsing, gritting your teeth as your forehead becomes flush with the wall.

John seems too comfortable; if he had it his way, he’d stay between your legs and eat your cunt until you were trembling and screaming.

Rough-hewn palms manhandle your thighs, shaking, holding so tightly that it might bruise. It’s accidental, something to keep himself grounded while he’s burying his mouth into your cunt.

It’s the scratch of his beard against soft flesh that makes your stomach flip, stubble ragged when he’s lapping at your slit, a pleasant burn.

Lips part around your clit, tasting you, savoring you; his senses are all hazy, clouded by your scent, the taste, everything. A low grunt rips through his diaphragm, followed by a groan when your hips grind into his mouth.

Eyes flutter shut as if he’s content, drinking you in like some oasis, tongue working diligently across your cunt in broad, heady strokes. The bridge of his nose presses flush, imbibing you as if you’re the best thing he’s tasted.

A breathy, unfiltered string of babbled praise tears from your diaphragm, enamored with the pace he sets — nothing too rushed. Thighs quiver like leaves on either side of his head, hips canting forward.

“F—Fuck, fuck,” Spoken through a lascivious cadence, your voice splinters at the end, tapering off into a noisy moan. “Mouth feels amazing, John, so good.” Your slur, dizzy from desire.

It’s as if he’s struck with an aphrodisiac, flesh crawling with heat, and he preens when you lavish him with praise. John wants to bite back, answering your remark with another barrage of his tongue.

The heel of your palm digs into the wall, digits curling, body jolting with ripples of ecstasy. It only trembles further when his tongue ghosts around your clit, never fully making contact.

You urged him closer, hips rolling into the fervent heat of his mouth, thighs quivering as he treated you to a lap of his tongue.

Circled strokes dance over your cunt; once, twice, three times — you begin to lose count, succumbing to a mind-numbing euphoria.

Each keen of his tongue is reverent, lavishing you in rough kisses to your cunt as if it’s a thing of beauty, beard scraping raw over silky flesh, digits dipping into your haunches.

Whenever your hips happen to grind into his mouth, his cock twitches incessantly, leaving behind a splotch of precum from his own excitement.

He can’t fully explain why he gets off to you riding his face, but he does — so bad. It’s borderline agonizing, body rutting pathetically against nothing at all, lips applying pressure to your throbbing clit.

A crass burn singes his chest, labored groans echoed between your thighs like a prayer, sins lost within your cunt.

He’s smothered by your body, and he’s hoping that you stay, muscles spasming from the surge of ecstasy that scorches your veins.

A sharp groan blossoms throughout his sternum as you incessantly tug upon his blonde tresses, urging him closer, if that were even possible.

Tact leaves his body, replaced only by a feral hunger, and he’s messy, wanton; John’s pace adjusts to something all-devouring. His tongue flattens in broad strokes, a growl emerging from his mouth.

A white-hot bliss twists at your belly, everything set ablaze, hips rocking forward, again and again. Using the wall as an anchor, you let out a hapless sob into the cold surface, cunt throbbing with pleasurable pulsations.

“J—John, I — I can’t,” Crying from delight, you’re desperate to cum, his beard providing ample stimulation, rough and ragged. “Feels so good, dunno if I can …” Huffing in half-sentences, you try to pull into the wall.

As the stinging pressure begins to lighten, John immediately drags you back down, hands clawing, silently begging for you to stay.

Lips climb from your heated core to your clit, pressing a string of kisses there, tongue brushing over the clutch of nerves.

“Sit,” Through a husky groan, he’s urging you onto his mouth, lips pursing around your clit. The sudden stimulation almost knocks the wind from your legs, moaning without any consideration for the noise. “That’s it, that’s my girl.” John purrs.

Words turn to ash on your tongue, dying then and there when he encourages you to continue. You’re quivering atop him, but he steadies you, forearms taut, flexing as he holds you aloft without much effort.

John’s mouth is voracious, tongue endlessly greedy, eating you out as if it’s the last thing he’ll ever do. Part of you wants to crumple, collapse in on yourself like a dying star, burning away.

Circling around your clit, he begins to lap over your pearl, feeling your legs tremor around him, muscles spasmodic, twitching. The needy tonguing makes your back arch, biting down on your bottom lip.

Between the pressure of your weight and being smothered amidst your cunt, John swears that he’s going to come — there isn’t any shame associated with it.

Cerulean hues sparkle with a glazed sheen, half-lidded, peering up at you, only to catch the blissed-out look on your face. He groans again, tempting you further as he suckles on your clit, unabashedly crass.

“John, John, m’close,” With a choked whimper, your hips continue to grind, and he’s content to lay there and take it, let you have whatever you want from him. “Fuck, need you so bad.” You sob, feeling as if you might combust.

He presses you further, a low hum tumbling from his mouth, still fervently revolving around your clit. The praise is blinding, and he’s crashing too, the both of you tangled in a supernova of ecstasy.

With another string of laps to your aching cunt, you’re fraying at the edges, splitting apart, completely and utterly destroyed.

A white-hot fever burns through you, bliss overwhelming, a buzz humming through your bones as if you’re floating somewhere else. Your jaw slacks, unhinged as you scream his name, gripping at his scalp, hunched over.

Feeling your body pulse around him, a low grunt splits his diaphragm, your legs trembling, muscles twitching in the aftermath. Even still, your mind is foggy, shrouded by a haze of desire.

He reacts in-tandem, coming untouched, snarling as he reaches his release. Everything feels unbearably hot, sticky — his gaze is glassy, visage splotched with scarlet.

Blissed-out and satiated, John’s brows pinch together, countenance a thing of unbridled satisfaction as he cums in his pants. He’s catching his breath, labored, attempting to ground himself again.

Conceding, he plants another kiss to your core, followed by a rough lap of his tongue, beard soaked by your slick, the sight obscene.

When you collapse in a heap next to him, your legs feel like jelly, muscles weak, still spasmodic as you plant a hand against his chest. He’s calming with you, gaze trained up at the ceiling, relaxed.

“Jesus.” John sounds happy, unable to bite back a grin as he wets his bottom lip. The taste of you is ingrained into his tongue, a bittersweet ambrosia that sates his craving.

Thoroughly and utterly razed, John is still mentally catching up, chest heaving as if he’s run himself ragged, burning in the best way.

With a soft grunt, he sits up just enough to peer at you through blonde lashes, wondering what exactly he’d done to deserve you. You’re beautiful, stunning in the afterglow as you caress over his bicep.

“I don’t know what to say.” Smitten, you notice the satisfied smirk that paints his features, tresses disheveled, beard saturated with your arousal.

“That good?” John teases, and you lightly smack his ribs, hand running over his arm again, urging him down. He seems surprised, but concedes to you anyway, hunching over as you kiss him hard.

It makes his head spin, throat tight, cock pulsing again as if he didn’t cum already. John groans low into your lips, and you can taste yourself on his tongue, taste what he did to you.

He crumples, hand seizing your hips, tracing circles over the bone. With another dizzying kiss, he withdraws enough to stare at you.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself.” Through a sweet mumble, you’re kissing his jaw, his cheek. He’s flushed, unable to keep up the tough facade — and he doesn’t want to.