#and also collars and leashes. that is all

[vegaseatsass]

Here are some things I loved about Episode 8 Ramilpaytai!

Lipgloss smeared all over both their faces. In my honest but rock solid opinion, this is sexier than any toy in Paytai's side dresser. Thank you thank you thank you The Next Prince for letting Jimmy and Ohm beat the hell out of each other's mouths and cheeks and chins, it is everything 2 me

It IS Paytai's side dresser btw. Nothing will convince me otherwise. Those are Paytai's personal belongings that Ramil gets to pick through like a kid at a slumber party eagerly pulling toys he doesn't have at home out of his friend's closet

But really I love how in past scenes it's been Paytai choosing the toys and offering them to Ramil, but this time Ramil laid out three sequential toys in preparation for their scene, and one of them was a COLOR-COORDINATED BLINDFOLD that matched their COLOR-COORDINATED lace slut shirts.

And that blindfold and those handcuffs were for Ramil! !!! !! ! !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Just as Paytai offers him the collar and the leash, Ramil is the one to initiate when it's his turn to surrender. They trust each other so much, and are so so careful with each other.

I'm assuming longer scenes is not actually their norm (or ours sob rip) because Ramil's life mostly runs on his father's time table, so he took the risk of canceling his entire fencing practice just so they'd have this time to really, really play. He's kind of in renewed honeymoon mode with Paytai right now.

I have seen lots of interpretations of Ramil with the crop so bear with me on a very "this is just, like, my opinion, man" take: For me, the way it read when Ramil put the crop down is that reality punched through their scene and took the wind out of his sails as a dom. So much of this space Paytai has helped him create is about building Ramil up and letting them both but especially Ramil feel like there's one protected place where Ramil has absolute power and can keep them both safe. Imo what Ramil needs is to feel in control and what Paytai needs is to be Ramil's complete focus. So when Ramil remembers the other connotation that whips have in their relationship it punctures his ability to stay in that powerful, in-control place; the powerlessness and pain of real life intrudes and he crumbles. But as much as Paytai loves it when Ramil is in control, when Paytai can let go of the reins in their relationship and just float in Ramil's hands, he also loves it when Ramil is stripped down to his core, raw and needy and vulnerable, espeeeeeecially when what he's shaking and crying about is Paytai. Because again! What Paytai needs isn't for Ramil to run the show but for Ramil to keep his eyes on Paytai. So both his strong, cruel side and his weak, hurt side sate the same obsessively deep craving in Paytai. And I think that's neat. I personally don't see Ramil putting the crop aside as like, okay he articulated a need, averted a bad scene, and has established he's not into whipping Paytai ever, so that toy is going back in the dresser for good. I think they probably have reclaimed punishment, discipline, and physical pain in the past, and will reclaim it all again in the future. For me this was just a window into what it looks like when the unlivable conditions they're trapped in intrude on their attempts to reclaim some control and comfort for themselves, but those attempts are a work in progress, will continue, and best of all, will continue to feature so much experimentation, trial and error, and open-ended play. God I love that they aren't limited to rigid roles but are trying things. I love it so so much.

I KNOW I MENTIONED RAMIL IN THE CUFFS ALREADY BUT: RAMIL IN THE CUFFS!!! PAYTAI KISSING HIS BOUND HANDS!!! THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YO

[schlattsgun]

now all i have on my mind is sub!schlatt sooooo here’s some headcanons :3

cw: sub!schlatt, gn!reader!dom, piv, toys (leash and vib), prob unrealistic (very) but idc! (self indulgent), lmk if i missed anything !!

- i think schlatt is the type of sub to be kinda quiet? someone else mentioned him feeling like he has to be this big strong man, and i 100% agree!! he’d be less talkative when he’s in subspace. he needs peace during this time. needs to turn his brain off.

- LOVES when you grab his chin, melts his heart! go ahead and give his head a couple pats, he loves that too!

- such an affectionate man when he’s all subby! will be all over you for sure. he needs to be touching you at all times!

- sitting on the couch? not without him curled up next to you, head in your lap as you idly play with his hair. this is something that calms him, it grounds him.

- riding him as a sub, my GOD. he’s absolutely fucking smitten and obsessed.

- holding him by a leash that connects to a collar he wears occasionally. he loves when you tug on it, pulling him closer to you.

- especially loves when he’s fucking you from behind and you tug on his leash, maybe his hands are tied behind his back so all he can do is stumble closer as you pull him, making him all flustered as he fucks you faster.

- LOVES being called a good boy! (yall remember that vghs stream where he repeated someone saying good boy,,, yeah that’s baby boy for sure.)

- needs to make sure he makes you cum, no matter if he’s subbing or not! he wants nothing more than to treat you like you’re a deity.

- not a stranger to body worship, both ways. i’ll elaborate on this in another work.

- holding a vibe to the tip of his cock, the way he’d WHIIIIIINE for you! he’s begging you to let him cum! please, he needs it! you make him feel so good!

woah brain empty i have nothing else, also not proofread and i wrote with my dick/puss

reblogs/comments are much appreciated <3

[un-till-the-end]

so I've always been convinced Till survives, but I am nervous that Mizi won't realize Till is alive and he'll get left behind 😭 Mizi will escape with the rebellion with Luka in tow, and Till will be the only Alien Stage participant still with the segyein. if Vivimeng really wants to heap the trauma onto him...

but after putting together my post(s) with all the evidence that Till is alive, I realize there's a good chance this is true, due to the first official art released for ALNST Friday immediately after Round 7's release:

this always came across to me like Till is in a dream. the overly bright lighting and pastel colors of Anakt Garden. there's no sign of stress or trauma, including his ever-present eyebags. we know from the experiments performed on Till that the red tubing on Till's left side is an IV line

we know from the experiments performed on Till that the red tubing on Till's left side is an IV line

it doesn't seem likely that the rebellion would cattle tag Till's left ear...

but the segyein would, who view Till as nothing but an animal. the RH+A written on it is Till's blood type, and the number: 010525 is Till's id number by Anakt:

we can infer Till is wearing a hospital gown by the loosely secured strap, and the background, of course, is Anakt Garden, complete with it's artificial four walls

there's speculation Till is receiving a blood transfusion from Hyuna who shares his blood type, and now that Hyuna's dead on stage...

there's also the name of his post-"death" comic, "Traces", which can be defined as left behind. and then there's his Drowning Bloom illustration where he's collared and chained.

the collar and leash is here too, when he's trying to follow behind Mizi-

which acts as a visual illustration of his song: Unknown (Till the End...)

and then there's this...

Is this why Vivimeng has kept everyone in suspense for months giving hope that Till's alive??

[mooshs-crack-headcanons]

If you're writing for doom now could we get doom slayer's first time with a gender neutral s/o please? Thank you 🙏

I literally did the classic doom guy grin upon opening this ask I was ready and waiting for it and hope this doesn't disappoint!

Disclaimer: Trans masc doom slayer, he's one of those characters I literally don't see as cis so that's my default for him going forward I hope that's alright. Switch Doom Slayer, slight AFAB genitalia terms used for him, and btw also SELF INDULGANT PLOT 🗣

(Gender neutral reader)

Sex is kind of a... touchy subject for him. Just something he never really had much interest in, growing up he always wanted to be military and over his teenage years and into adulthood that was his main focus, his main priority, get good grades and be fit to serve. So he never really did have the time for - that - hell even if he wanted to its not like he really had the skill to so casually talk to people not even fathom getting to know somebody to get into that position in the first place. Not to mention the other factors... with himself, his body, so more ways than one he wasn't at all interested what it had to offer. After all he wanted to be a marine, saving people's lives, that was obviously more important than self pleasure.

But that was... thousands of years ago. And here he was now, the Apex Predator of Hell, the Hellwalker, the Doom Slayer. Still a virgin.

He honestly could give less of a shit, it was a complete understatement of how much of a low list 'priority' (if you could even fucking consider it that) of his considering the unfathomable amount of bullshit he has had to put up through since the Phobos Incident in his original universe.

He's had propositions, all by very ballsy Night Sentinels that actually had the courage to actually come up and talk to him during the rare instances of the Maykrs having him out during non combative down time, still on their leash however, akin to taking a dog on a walk or said dog would bark and growl and snap at the confines of his enclosure dispite the shock collar - and they found that annoying. And a risk.

All propositions he said no to, which he didn't even need Maykr control to decline for, he was much more interested in trying out new weapons the Sentinel barracks provided for him in their training grounds and they were interrupting him getting to play with his new toys. Honestly? It was just rude of them.

And still, after the Ahzrak's crushed head, the Maykrs betrayal, the Sentinel civil war, Valen's betrayal, spending all that unfathomable time with him in that cave, getting shoved in and gasping out of that sarcophagus and continuing his bloody war path it was still the farthest thing from his mind.

Then he met you.

You were... different than people he's met. With how long either people having either fear him, hate him, or respect him but not really as a person but for his strength and conviction instead - you actually took the time to understand him, you actually... treated him like a person. He can't even remember the last time someone did that, probably somewhere in his old ancient life but even still.

He thought at first it was only because he saved your life and gave you a place to stay at the Fortress since you had no where else to since the demons laid your home in ruins, everyone you knew dead - he knows that feeling all too well as well after all. But no, seeing how you carry yourself spoke loud and clear that it wasn't just for base gratitude or some debt, you were kind - genuinely thankful but very kind. With how polite you were to VEGA and how you actually made effort to talk to the Slayer himself, even when he isn't the most social in the world and sometimes his actions could be interpreted as rude: like you speaking to him in one sided conversation as he walks over to his workbench to work on his guns, but he's still listening, hanging on every word you say even if on the outside it's hard to show that. But you keep doing it because you understand that he's listening, never pressuring him to comment on anything until one day he surprises you and does.

Looking back on it he thinks it the first ever thing he's verbally ever said to you, up to this point he's been communicating through slow nods and slight hand gestures. It obviously takes you by surprise as you fall silent in the doorway. He doesn't look all the way back but he glances from the corner of his eye to see the cute flustered look on your face.

Oh you were something truly special.

After everything he's been through it's hard to genuinely scare him anymore, however, coming to terms on his own feelings towards you? Terrified him to death. He recognizes it the mere instant it sets in and it causes a whole body panic within him that his entire being has to stiffen up to contain if not he would completely loose himself.

Scenarios, bloody ones, run through his mind at night for weeks on end. He can't control them, invasive fears that drag him along every time he even thinks of closing his eyes. He's seen so much violence, so much cruelty, so much death. He couldn't imagine what he'd even do with himself if he lost you. But he takes all of it in silent stride, self contained, heavy on his shoulders. Like he always has.

He should've known better you would be quick to catch on. Quick to confront him.

He can't look you in the eye as you address him, asking what's wrong, he's about to set out on a mission with his weapons laid out before him for final assessments to be fully equipped when you've stopped him. There's a knot in his throat as he turns away and is about to pull over the helmet onto his head before you stop him by placing your hands on his arms and tugging them down so you can properly see his face - which only makes the knot swell as he sees you from the corner of his eyes still verting away from you.

You're so... gentle with him he's not exactly sure what to do, his body briefly stiffens all over but his bones simply melt with your warm touch he can't help but slowly relax as you just gently hold him. Your palms are so soft as they come up to greet the roughness of his face, his brows narrow together for a bit before he finds your not directly looking at him either - until you notice he's looking at you and you stare at one another. Your eyes are really pretty.

In a snap the moment ends end you let go of his face and clear your throat, cheeks tinted.

"I know fighting helps you clear your head so I'm sorry for keeping you... just promise you'll come back safe, alright?" You ask him to promise, uneasy he swallows and nods, about to grab his shotgun from off the table next to him before suddenly your hand is back cupping his cheek and pepping a quick kiss on the partnering one by standing on your tiptoes. Before his brain even process it your scurried off to the other room, leaving him standing there.

His hand that was on the shotgun unclasps it and slowly, clumsily, finds it's way onto your kiss.

Oh.

Things are... a little bit different afterwards. Neither of you have really said anything about feelings necessarily out loud but there's more physical affection than before. It scared him, honestly, but if there's one thing about you he's come to really love and appreciate it's exactly how patient and slow you were willing to take things - even if it meant just learning how to hold hands for awhile. His hands are so much bigger than yours, they swamp them when gently he entangles them. He felt like just with your hand alone as if he was holding the entire world.

Kissing was another thing, anxiety sweltering in him the first couple times, but again, thanks to your help it was something else to mentally conquer. He loves kissing you, how soft your lips are, how they taste so nice, it nearly makes him dizzy - makes you dizzy too, hell, smugass in him thinks he just might have a talent for it (he teases, he teases)

Then there was the elephant in the room, the topic he wasn't sure if ever he could come out and say but you had to figure it out on your own one night.

You've helped him treat injuries before, nothing too severe as his body with all thousands of years of Hellic bullshit has adjusted to quite a lot to inhuman degrees, but he was still human at the end of the day. One mission he'd been to careless and too lost in the rage and blood-lust that he had came out with a large gash on his size that would be impossible to treat on the field, the Slayer Suit can only fix so much, so he comes back through the portal pooling with blood that pours out of the wound from his exposed breech in his suit and he can barely only hold on to consciousness to hear your panicked plea out from him before he collapses on the floor.

He wakes up staring at the ceiling of his room, VEGA's voice loud in his ear over the entercom yet muffled until sleep fades from his being bit by bit, last part he hears clearly is stern warnings that he should've listened to the retreat suggestions when the armor faulty was urgently reported - but the last hoard of demons were circling that village, he couldn't just abandon them.

"It appears you didn't hear my suggestion the five times I had sent it. In future reference, would six suffice?" He knows the AI means well but he can't help the cheeky middle finger.

He then looks down to get a proper look at the state of himself, he laid shirtless in bed with bandage wrap around his stomach. Your doing, too human of work to be one of the Fortress' drones. That being said he looks at the deep ugly scars underlining his chest with a deep sigh, his head falling back to the pillow propped under him.

Guess he couldn't make up a freaky cool war story about those, huh? Shit.

His hand itches around the old Argent implant in thought. He should be honest with you, he's always honest with you, he's just... never had to tell anyone, like this anyway, recruitment people for the Marines knew but never really gave a shit he thinks - he was really big and really good with a gun, perfect solider material. Why would they give a shit what's in or not in his pants? But with you it's obviously different.

Speaking of you, the door to his room clicks and slides open automatically as you come in with your arms completely full with the thick and deceptively heavy box of a medkit - on instinct his body moves to get up and go help you carry it only for the sharp stabbing in his side to remind himself of the shape he's in. You quickly set the box down to ease him back properly in bed, which he relents, letting his bones jelly out as he watches you huff through your nose before with an (admittedly cute) growl you lift the box over onto the edge of the bed before popping it open revealing the large packs of blue healing gel and rolls of bandages - treating him did take a lot of resources after all.

"How are you feeling?" You ask, not looking at him directly but he could make out you glancing over at him from the corner of your eye to receive his usual non verbal response; which this time he leaves as a light uneven nod - he wasn't dead. That should be good enough. With one pack of gel in hand you step over closer to his bedside.

"Is it alright if I change your bandages? They're stained now the gels worn off." He looks down at himself, he spots the red tinted spot on the cloth but he stares longer further upwards directly underneath his chest. He swallows then nods once more.

You already did them once why bother asking to do it again? Just do it. He would add if it weren't on the physical strain it takes to speak. But then he realizes how that'd sound and remembers the patience you have with him, this was clearly just a part of it. You undo the bandages off of him and set them off to the side somewhere, his wound still bled from the cracks of the dried blue healing layer that ate slowly to his recovery, normally with regular humans it wouldn't take a whole bunch but he's anything but ordinary so for wounds of this extent he couldn't just shake off it takes several to really do anything to him, or maybe it was because of how adjusted he was to Argent engery long to this point it had the same less effective functionality to him, like taking the same kind of medication every time your sick. But over thousands of years.

You open the pack and begin to lather his side with it, the gel drying and sealing icy cold with that prickling feeling he's use to. Then another pack, and another, and another and so until eventually the area grows numb with full effect. He eases back into the mattress without even realizing he'd tensed up, that being the sign for you to take that enough had been applied and you grab the bandage roll to begin wrapping around him, though making him sit up slightly to get it on more proper.

"Couple more hours it'll need to be reapplied again but it did look much better than it did." You tell him, beginning to put supplies away. It's quiet for a long moment.

"You had me scared, you know? Coming back like that - why didn't you retreat when VEGA told you to?" You don't sound angry at him, you're very calm all things considered, but it still doesn't deter the guilty feeling in his stomach.

"People."

You look at him. So soft and sad it hurts. You reach over and hold his hand.

"You can't help people when you're hurt." He knows. And he knows you know.

"I'm sorry. It was a stupid mistake - adrenaline - got to my head and... moved wrecklessly. It was stupid."

Especially so, he's been doing this for unconceivably long he should know better but he slipped, anger got the better of him and he took to long on an execution to react to a Marauder blade catching him like that, taking advantage of weak point he deliberately left open not wanting to abandon the village to repair his suit. Ignoring VEGA's several warnings. Though, on this level of a fuck up it did make him feel like a rookie Marine again - in a sick and twisted way.

You draw him out of his thoughts and slipping memories when you lean over to press a soft brief kiss to his lips, still holding a comforting squeeze on his hand. Before he can bring himself to respond you rest your head on his chest, still sitting on the edge of the bed beside him but now tucked into him and using him as a pillow. Whatever he was going to say didn't matter then. He looks down at you, how your eyes were lazily closed but still clearly awake, you looked so... delicate, small compared to him. It takes a lot of strength to gather the courage but gently, so he doesn't accidentally harm you, he pats your head.

A passing while it hits him, the dread and discomfort he was feeling about his scars and what they meant had completely faded away. Here you were laying on them, didn't address them once.

...but he had to. It would eat at him if he didn't.

You'd nearly fallen asleep until he gently shakes you awake, pushing you to sit up with serious intent to talk. He tries the best he could explaining, honestly he isn't sure how to explain the exact feeling he's always had since that day Grandma Taggart put him in that Easter dress and it felt horribly wrong and how on the other hand how rightfully good it felt dreaming of being a combat hero just like his great-great grandfather BJ Blazkowicz, the man who literally killed Hitler. Both at the age of nine. He wasn't sure if it made sense, it was how he explained to his parents and they were luckily very supportive, but they were also his parents... so to cut it short your potential reaction terrified him. But it shouldn't, he know it shouldn't, and with how you just look at him confirms that.

"You're still you. You who have all these admirable, brave, kind, heroic-if-not-self-sacrificing aspects. You made yourself. You're the man who saved me and showed me there is still justice in this cruel existence - the man I fell in love with."

He's so distracted of the dam of relief of your support breaking that he nearly doesn't catch the last part you said. Bronze eyes turn wide, lips parted, he looks at you as if he thought himself in a dream and looks to nearly start slapping himself awake until you press another kiss to his lips, this time he stiffs but ultimately melts into it. More relaxed by each second.

When you two pull away there's a haziness in the air, carefully, you move to properly lay at the Slayer's side being mindful of his still present injury only tucked away behind a good couple tight circuits of cloth and wrap your arms around him to take in his warmth, head buried in his neck. The haze grows tiring, sleep creeps heavy on his eyelids and you too seemingly are not that far behind as your yawn is warm on his skin. The lights in the room dim, embarrassing reminder of the AI omnipresent throughout the whole Fortress but particularly now in this room. But nevermind that, he looks down at you and your sleepy form with the desire to speak - however his throat seems to be against him as he strains to, seemingly reached his limit of words tonight. But maybe it was for the best as now he could be up your soft snoring.

He loved you too.

He loves you so much. So much it still terrifies him, however, like always you're there to quell his fears, his doubts, second thoughts, you comfort him in a way he has never been before. You were something so truly special to him. Before long... desires strike.

Very brief at first. Surges that come from sudden touches, grazes, glances. But he's able to quickly shake it off without really realizing it.

...until he does.

He realizes when his touch lingers for a couple moments too longer, his eyes start to wonder when you're not looking, you start visiting his dreams...

He's deeply ashamed of it, so embarrassed with his face a scolding red he doesn't think he's felt in anyway besides letting out extreme rage on the battlefield, speaking of, there's where he takes it out on - either waking up in the dead of night and immediately mad dashing to his training arena to let of steam or if really, really, really bad he'll set off on a quick mission to slaughter some demons in hope to settle himself out.

So, not healthy ways to take care of it. He's aware of that. Still feeling ashamed.

He should've expected you to figure it out at some point, after months of this he's grown unintentionally distant from you, and he should've also expected for you to address it in some way.

Half dressed in his bed wasn't how he would've expected it however.

There seems to be a delay in between his eyes and brain to process the shocking sight before him, you usually always come to greet him when he returns home from demon excursions and you not being there this time is what led him to search without properly stripping off his suit, his boots are practically cement in the ground as he stands in the doorway of what had become in the past year your shared bedroom. But maybe he should've assumed something was up, VEGA had seemed purposely aloof and dense on where you could've been located or what you had been doing when he asked, you two must've planned on this.

...but how could he be upset when you wore one of the baggiest shirts you owned that were pushed up to reveal his boxers underneath around your thighs? He wasn't a religious man but good God.

He doesn't need to be talked into, he wants and needs you, the fear and anxiety is still there and eats at him but he knows with you it's going to be okay - he couldn't do this with anybody else in every universe and realm imaginable but you.

First piece of the armor to come off is the helmet as he stands by the edge of the bed and you up on your knees practically rip it off and toss it across the room to meet him in a feverish kiss. One by one each piece is removed and fallen to the floor with a heavy clunk, leaving him in only the tight black bodysuit he wears underneath. Your lips never part, your fingers find them tight short cropped dark brown hair that your drag him down so you can fall on your back, parting the kiss in heavy breaths as you feel yourself up and let the shirt ride up your stomach to expose more skin, your spine then arches as you softly plea for him to touch you.

He treats you so gently as if one wrong move would break you, he's a big man after all - his hands have ripped and tore through hordes of legions of Hell alone in his self brought bloody crusade against demonkind, they've been twisted, crafted for violence for so long... deep down unknownst to himself he's been desperate for human touch but he's scared to death of not being capable of returning it, even more so of it decaying completely and his affection hurts you - or worse. He kills everything he touches.

That fear is always in the back of his mind even when he tries his damndest to pretend to you it isn't.

His large hands are warm on your skin, traveling and caressing everything he can but nothing too grounded. His face is buried in your neck peppering kisses along the base of your throat, taking in your soft hums and feels almost dizzy with your fingers in his hair encouraging his movements. Your thighs are wrapped tight around his waist as he sat stiff on his knees in between your legs and bent over top of you on the bed.

"Flynn, Flynn," You huff in pleasure, encouraging him to do more - but it hits him... he isn't exactly sure what 'more' is. Okay no, he knows what 'more' is but he doesn't... how does he...? What is he doing?

"Flynn?" As always it doesn't take you long to notice. He stares down at you honest, he tries speaking with no success.

You study his face, your eyes drifting downwards then noticed how his arms holding himself up above you slightly trembled - something he didn't even realize - it clicks for you.

"You haven't... oh." There's several emotions across your face, all in some kind of thought, before you lean up and guide him to reverse your positions: him on his back and you above him.

"I can take care of you if that's okay." He looks at you for a long moment, an inner fight within himself that he succumbs to one side completely, he needed you more than anything.

'Please.' He mouths.

You didn't expect him to be this loud, you know, given how he carries himself normally. And honestly? He didn't either. But he can't help all the noise that slips out, how his chest pants and rocks for breath, the mere instant you touch him - delicately if barely at all your fingers graze at his folds that got him shooting his head back further into the pillow at his head and his thick thighs, marred with centuries old battle scars, tremble upon themselves as he still manages to keep them bowed back for you.

Your touch lit his skin on fire that not even the deepest pits of Hell he's literally has crawled out of out could compare - and you basically hadn't done anything to him yet.

He doesn't falter, you have stopped but he grips on the mattress (mindful he doesn't tear it) underneath him and lightly raises his head up to look at you with large bronze colored eyes.

"..." His mouth hangs open, all of his might he tries to push words out but he physically can't, they knot and bunch up in his throat and stab at him if he further tries pushing it. But it's okay as your hands, so small and delicate compared to his mass, feather-light trace up the churning muscle of his stomach and up to his chest where you gently push him back down.

He looks at you then everything fades, fear, anxieties, everything melts away. Only replaced by calm. He peers down to see how the top of your hand is barely masked by the thick layer of chest hair and he slowly reaches up cup it, make you hold down on him in your palm tight. He was still with you through this... you now in between his legs.

He hums, he groans, whines, and curses through barred teeth as your fingers pump his hole - one or two or three fingers weren't nearly enough so you practically have your whole hand in there fucking him senseless. His body twitches, pulses, almost spasming with his how good he felt but he tries not to make too sudden or harsh of movements not to accidentally hurt you as he is still very much larger than the average human, but it's rather quite difficult when you're treating him this well.

But he needed more.

He wants to plea but physically can't form the words, only pathetic noises left in their wake as his hips bounce to meet your thrusting hand - it felt good, so good that tears blot in his eyes he fails to realize until you bend down to kiss them away. You actually keep kissing, your fingers still keeping quick pace at him, you kiss under his jaw to his neck to his chest to his stomach - lower and lower until your crouched down with your breath so electrifying on his sex as you hover before you completely engulf the fat numb of his clit in your mouth. All struggles of forming words together are completely shoved out.

"FUCk!" He shouts out, eyes wide, underneath him not just the sheets tear but as well as the mattress with claw marks left by his hands.

His chest heaves with every breath he takes, you suck and swirl your tongue around him at the same time still fucking his hole with nearly your entire fist it's easy to be over stimulated but he's hanging on every second in pure ecstasy.

"-more, more, more, more, more-" He huffs, hands clutch tighter onto the tore mattress even if he has the desire to grab ahold of your head to encourage an even faster pace but he's terrified of accidentally hurting you being not in control of his own strength to something so... intense like this. He'd rather you in control of the reigns.

He gasps as he suddenly feels dragged high without warning, the churning that's been building in his stomach snaps and his eyes roll to the back of his head as pleasure like he's never felt before washing over him. His body feels hot, his bones melt, and the only grounded feeling he has is the twitching he's aware of around your soaked hand.

He's wheezing, actually wheezing to catch his breath, feeling starts to return to his body just has you slip your hand out. He looks at you in what he'd probably guess if he were to look at himself as pathetic but you in return look at him soft; small smile on your lips as you meet to kiss him again - letting him have a taste of himself.

"How was that?" You ask.

'Good.' He mouths.

"You okay for more?" He still feels woozy but he nods, a wicked grin flashes across your face.

"Good."

Before he can question it or gather the strength to lift himself up to see what you were pulling from out under the bed he sees its a box. You hand it over to him, who sluggishly finally is able to sit up to open it and-

It was a strap-on.

Oh so you really planned this.

He couldn't help but to laugh at it at first, dumb looking green toy that was at a.... generous size - you called it fitting, he's a big man after all - but you know what? As stupid as it looked? It felt right, on him. Seeing a cock on him, even if it was green (you added green was also his color, so) and seeing your tiny hand stroking around such a big size REALLY starts doing something to him.

You put your mouth on it, even if it technically did nothing seeing your mouth stretch and gag around it really does more to him - even bucks his hips but he controls himself not to accidentally hurt your throat. His moans are low and huffy, completely contrast to the whining mess he was earlier, his eyes fall slacked and lazy as he watches you until you come up gasping for breath.

You've already been out of your shirt but putting his large hands on your hips do you make him take his boxers off you, grabbing and groping handfuls of ass as he goes and you wiggle free to be both completely naked together. The plastic of the strap is warm and wet from your previous activity but it brushes nicely against your thighs before you can't help yourself but rock into it.

"Flynn," You hum and you moan until you grab a hold of it and align it with yourself, hovering over it to look at your lover for one last confirmation. "-ready?"

"Please." He breathily pleads.

You sink yourself so full down onto it that your breath disapates from your body and you forget how to breathe for a second, his touch on you to keep you straddled riding on his waist being the only thing keeping you grounded.

"Are... you alright?" You flash him a dumb grin.

"Yeah. Your dicks huge, you know?"

He looks away from that, clearly flustered. His dick. Validating praises seemed to do something. You keep that in mind. Small movements at first you keep a steady rhythm. He goes along with it, encouraging your movements by his hands guiding your hips with each increasingly wet thrusts.

They grow faster and harder over time, you cooing out praises seem to increase them further until you are no longer in control of the rhythm as you are throughly fucked up and down until suddenly your pushed to your back where you loose control over your own voice. He leans over you, holding your legs up over his shoulders as he fucks you so deep - all previous fears and insecurities he's shown over the night gone, as he finally trusts himself with you, he won't hurt you.

"I love you," He says taking you by complete shock as he hasn't voiced the sentiment out loud before.

"I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I-" Over and over he repeats raspy and strained as his voice tends to be but it means so much to you - you mean so much to him - he choices to fight through whatever pain to make sure it is said loud and clear and is known and you are loudly coming around his cock while he says it to absolutely cement it.

Sweaty and exhausted you two lay in each other's arms once it's all through. Somethings different, yet at the same time it isn't, your skin is so soft under his touch as he traces his fingertips down the width of your back as you're nearly dozed off. It's calm, he has a peace of mind he hasn't had in literally thousands of years - demons the furthest from his mind. It was nice. Really nice. He never wants it to end even though you both know it has to, Hell never quits nor runs dry with demons. But for now? This was more than fine.

Would really like and appreciate to know what you think about what you read in tags on reblogs I absolutely thrive off it, thank you for reading 🫶

[jujutsukaisen0]

yuri needs to step up its game. i want disgusting perverted lesbians doing the shit yaoi boys do to each other. i dont want wholesome romance i want blood and flesh

[moonchild-in-blue]

@politemagic @hookedhobbies can we agree on this? Slasher iii and his little maniac lover? Silly crazy killers?

After that last blurb I've become obsessed with them. Freak couple 🥹

[whippetcrimes]

I have think there's something wrong with me.

I have one singular dog. Since I've gotten Misty, I've purchased 8 collars, 2 leashes, and 1 slip leash. In addition to these, I already had 3 leashes, Misty came home with a collar, and a puppy sized martingale slip leash.

Why am I about to buy yet another leash????

[sensitivegoblin]

switchy mooooood? what are you craving for both ways hehe

Abhdsdf hi babes✨💕🦋

As a ler I'm really craving nipple tickle torture maybe you should be my victim?~ but I'm also really craving eating someone out really softly and slowly for hours while my fingers tickle and I moan to the Lee's reactions

Since I love denial as a lee I also love it as a ler abgssff

Rn as a lee I'm craving to be a lil pet for someone that just relentlessly teases me verbally n tickles me n does all the things they know embarrass meeeeee😵‍💫🙃🫠

This may be tmi warning:

But AHHH I wish I had a cock so I could be caged up and when I beg my owner to cum they'd be mean and tickle me thru it❤️‍🔥✨🥺

[swordmaid]

diabolical thought about shri’iia wearing a choker with her (the matriarch’s) noble house’s sigil engraved on the pendant

[quietwingsinthesky]

okay okay no this is the last one I swear. scenario in which the dog is kidnapped and forcibly muzzled (probably because they kept biting their captors) and this is, understandably, extremely fucking traumatic. they want the muzzle off as soon as possible, it’s too tight, leaves deep marks that break skin in some spots on their face. getting it off them is the most difficult part of freeing them because they won’t stop moving and scratching uselessly at the edges of the muzzle like that’ll remove it.

(and probably this requires a very firm Sit and Stay that makes them calm down.)

but consider: they keep the muzzle. they aren’t even sure why, but they slip it somewhere and keep it, until one day they’re presenting this thing that was used to hurt and disempower them to their owner. and they want their owner to put it on them badly.

[perilegs]

i downloaded the multiple romances mod but i still don't know if i want anode to romance both minthara and gale or just minthara (info on anode if you're interested) so!

[echthr0s]

had a dream I was hanging out with Stephen King. he told me that something happened to him once and he couldn't process it so he went dim and dreamed the entire Dark Tower series. like... the events in it, the decades-long writing of it, all of it. he used to live somewhere different, had a whole different life, and he just slipped right out of it whilst this was happening. he has no idea how long he was gone; he goes to where he vaguely remembers he used to live to see if he could, idk, explain himself. find the trail of his life. he calls me "Noah" once, which isn't terribly weird because I use that name as shorthand for one of my facets, but it's interesting that that's the me he's addressing. we slip in and out, going dim and becoming clear at will or at random, avoiding low men when we can.

at some point, in some dim space, I plod over to him, exhausted, and I say I am growing tired of this space, this experience, and he books me a plane tocket to Grand Rapids and sends me on my way

[dickly-stricktly-two-point-oh]

Another jock I got recently 👀

[aria0fgold]

Cain's outfit... AAAAAAAAAAA orz... Why does this man always get the dog collars. We get it Cain, you're a loyal dog--

[slimepuparibaba]

18+ NSFW CALEB HEADCANON, HEAR ME OUT! IF YOU ARE A MINOR THIS IS YOUR ONLY WARNING DO NOT TOUCH THIS WITH A 90-FOOT-POLE

ALSO I SOUND LIKE A MADMAN BUT HEAR ME OUT OK JUST... JUST HEAR ME OUT--

caleb gets worse and more depraved the longer sex goes on

HEAR ME OUT. JUST... JUST HEAR ME OUT.

The more he has you, the less restraint he has. by the time you're spent, he's PROBABLY STILL GOING SO LONG AS YOU DON'T ASK HIM TO STOP OR YOU DO NOT USE THE SAFE WORD (he abides by safe word and is heavy on consent, never assume otherwise)

It'll start with him on top of you, probably being rough (because let's be so real here Caleb is a freak and you are too), doing the usual, he'd encourage you to squirt, to cum, he'd whisper how filthy you are and how you're so perfect for him. he'll ask if you're aware about the size difference between you and him and how he could easily crush you, how he could ruin you for anyone else (oh but you would like that, wouldn't you baby? is probably what he'd ask)

I'M SAYING HE GETS WORSE AS TIME GOES ON. LET ME COOK HERE—HE GETS EXPONENTIALLY WORSE AND MORE UNHINGED THE LONGER THE SEX CONTINUES.

you think you're getting overstimulated? man's trying to get his cock milked over and over again, he's AIMING to be overstimulated. he wants to feel the warmth, the tightness, he wants to merge your flesh into one because HE IS THAT OBSESSED WITH YOU—

at some point he'd lose it entirely, start rambling about other things you could do.

"want me to tie you up, huh? use that little baton from when we first reunited, that thing in interrogations? oh you want that soooo bad don't you? want a collar around your little neck, want me to leash you and drag you around the room? you want me in uniform, want me to be gloved, spank you for misbehaving? how about i use my evol, fuck you against the wall, the ceiling? zero gravity even, drag you down on my cock? or maybe you wanna resonate, huh? wanna hear the disgusting things i think about, feel the way i feel whenever i thrust in and out of you?"

YEAH HE RAMBLES MORE THE LONGER THE SEX GOES ON. BECAUSE HE'S LOSING HIS GODDAMN MIND.

like he will start spouting out the most depraved thoughts he has of you the longer it goes, confessions spilling from his mouth. he's good at restraining, really, he is, but the longer he's inside you, the more of you he's tasted, THAT MAN? GONE. RESTRAINT? BYEEEEEEE

because you feel so good, and now his moans are turning into full on whimpers, and the moment you start seeming tired, and the moment he knows you've been going for WAY TOO LONG, he'll start bargaining

"I promise this'll end in seven minutes, just seven more minutes, need seven more minutes in heaven with you please please, please just please—"

and then when you PASS that seven minute mark (he's so invested), he finally becomes so whiny and apologizing

"I'm a filthy dog, they're right, I'm a disgusting mutt, I'm a beast, I'm a gross pervert, all I want is to take you and break you and rebuild you and mold you, I want you all to myself, I want to keep you here forever and fuck you like this forever, fuck, I'm a selfish disgusting bastard, I can't—"

he'll start raving on and on about how addicted he is, how he can't live without you, how you feel so good that he can't breathe, how he wants to stay right there with you, never leave, keep you there, breed you, and how he knows that he's a gross, disgusting pervert who's so honed in on fucking you out of your mind because it feels too good, he loves you so much, he needs you, he CRAVES you, but he's such a disgusting person and you're a divine being that's giving a sinner like him a chance--

Promise when he comes down from his high or you say the safe word that he'll return to normal and probably regret pushing it too far, ask if he did too much, etc.

he'll give you aftercare, he'll help you if you feel wobbly, he'll apologize over and over again for pushing your limits, say that you did so well and thank you for putting up with him...

...just... just know if you encourage him he will get even worse and you are in trouble

This man needs to be restrained and he would gladly BE restrained cuz the moments restraints are off and he gets a piece of you, KNOW HE WILL GET EXPONENTIALLY WORSE

(and if you're into that you should rile him up actually)

[blueberrisdove-sideblog]

⋆˚🐾˖°𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ 🐕 COSMIC LEASH ?!

⋆⑅˚ paring : zayne, rafayel, sylus, xavier & caleb x puppy fem!reader

⋆⑅˚ synopsis : Trapped between them, you whimper as they tug on your leash, making it clear you’re nothing but their obedient little pet for the night.

⋆⑅˚ warnings : nsfw/smut, vaginal, size kink, humiliation kink, leash play, hair pulling, chocking, spanking, gagging, dacryphilia, nipple teasing, dacryphilia, rough s*x, power play, dom & sub dynamic, light degradation, overstimulation & other stuff!

⋆⑅˚ note : banner art by @/rororo_mg on X , also not proof read really sorry ૮๑ˊᯅˋ๑ა ! Also dunno if this was ooc for rafayel 🧍🏻‍♀️

．－ 𝒵𝒜𝒴𝒩ℰ （the best fucker?!）

Zayne’s grip on the leash tightens as he yanks you forward, the collar around your neck pulling you closer to him. You can feel the tension in your body—both the leash and the anticipation tightening in your core. His eyes darken with a predatory gleam as he moves behind you, his hand brushing over your tits, squeezing them roughly before dipping down to grasp your clit between his fingers. You moan, but the sound is cut off when he pulls the leash hard, choking you just enough to make your breath hitch.

“Such a good girl,” he growls, his cock already hard and pressing against your back, his body looming over you. His hands move to your nipples next, pinching and pulling them until you’re gasping, knees weak. His fingers circle your pussy, teasing at your entrance before sliding in with brutal ease. “Look at you, all needy and wet, just for me.”

The sensation of him deep inside you makes your eyes water, a mix of pleasure and pain as the leash pulls tighter, forcing your head back. His hands on your tits grow rougher, his cock pushing deeper with every thrust. You can feel the sting of his choke, the suffocating pressure making you dizzy as he pounds into you, each movement pushing you closer to the edge. Your puppy eats flattening as you whined.

“Z-Zayne—” your voice catches as the leash jerks tight again, cutting off your words. Your hands tremble where they rest against the floor, barely keeping you upright as he keeps you in place, his cock stretching your pussy with every deep, ruthless thrust.

“What? Can’t speak?” His voice is low, teasing, and cruelly amused as he watches your lashes flutter, your breath hitching from the pressure on your throat. “Poor little puppy. Just let me fuck you dumb, yeah?”

You whimper, nodding quickly, cheeks burning with shame. It’s too much—his cock is thick, dragging against every sensitive spot inside you, and his hands won’t stop playing with your tits, squeezing them, rolling your nipples between his fingers like he’s trying to make you cry.

“Sensitive here too,” he murmurs, flicking his tongue over a hardened bud before sucking it into his mouth. You gasp, your back arching, ears twitching as his teeth graze you. It’s embarrassing how loud you are, how easily you melt under his touch. You try to stifle a moan, but Zayne just tugs the leash tighter, forcing another strangled sound from your throat.

“You're shaking.” He groans against your skin, his lips hot against your tits as he nips at them, sucking harder. “Gonna cum already? That desperate?”

You shake your head frantically, but the way your pussy clenches around his cock betrays you. He chuckles, pulling back just enough to see your wrecked expression—eyes glassy, lips parted, drool slipping from the corner of your mouth.

“Cute,” he murmurs. “Now be a good puppy and cum for me.”

Then he thrusts in harder, tightening the leash just enough to steal your breath, and you break—crying out as your body seizes up, pleasure slamming through you in waves. Your walls clamp down around his cock, your clit throbbing, and Zayne groans as he fucks you through it, chasing his own release.

Zayne doesn’t stop—not when your body shakes, not when your pussy clenches down so tight around his cock it feels like you’re trying to keep him inside. If anything, he seems to enjoy watching you struggle, the way your small frame trembles under the weight of him, your breath coming in short, choked gasps as he tugs on the leash again.

“Still so fucking tight,” he groans, dragging his cock out of your drenched cunt just to slam it back in, making you cry out. “You can barely take me, puppy. Look at you—your little pussy’s stretched around me, and I’ve barely fucked you properly.”

Your ears twitch at the humiliation, your cheeks burning. He’s right—his cock is too big, stretching you wide, filling you so deep it makes your stomach bulge with every thrust. You’re dizzy from the way he’s handling you, his grip unrelenting, keeping you exactly where he wants you.

You try to speak, try to beg for mercy, but all that comes out is a broken moan. Zayne chuckles darkly, gripping your jaw and forcing your mouth open. “That's it. Keep your mouth nice and wide for me.”

Then he shoves his fingers past your lips, pressing down on your tongue, making you gag as he fucks into you even harder. Your eyes flutter, throat constricting as you choke around his fingers, drool spilling past your lips. He watches with a smirk, his other hand keeping your leash tight, his cock still slamming deep into your soaked pussy.

“Fuck, you're so cute like this,” he mutters, pulling his fingers out just to smear your spit over your lips before gripping your chin. “So dumb and messy for me.”

You can only whimper, body shuddering under the overwhelming sensations—the size of him splitting you open, the leash cutting into your throat, the way he manhandles you like you’re nothing but his little plaything. Your legs tremble as another orgasm creeps up, and Zayne notices immediately, his cock twitching inside you.

“Gonna cum again?” His voice is a low, mocking growl. “Go on, puppy. Cum while I ruin this tight little cunt.”

Then he slams in deeper, and you break all over again—gagging, sobbing, your body convulsing around him as he fucks you through it, his grip on your leash never loosening.

．－ ℛ𝒜ℱ𝒜𝒴ℰℒ （gentle but rough?!）

Rafayel holds the leash firmly, tugging just enough to make you stumble closer to him. His gaze is sharp, glowing with that cold, unreadable intensity—but there’s something else beneath it, something almost indulgent as he watches your small puppy tail wag despite the tremble in your thighs.

“You’re shaking,” he murmurs, one large hand stroking down your back before gripping your ass. His touch lingers, fingers pressing into the soft flesh before he suddenly spanks you—hard. The sharp crack echoes through the room, and you yelp, body jerking forward.

“R-Rafayel—!” Your voice breaks into a whimper, your puppy ears twitching as you press your thighs together. The sting of his slap spreads through you, heat pooling between your legs, and your tail wags again—completely betraying you.

Rafayel chuckles, low and amused, before giving you another sharp slap on the ass, making you jolt. “You like it,” he muses, tugging the leash so you’re forced to arch your back, your tits hanging as he positions you just how he wants. “Such a needy little thing.”

His fingers trace over your clit, rubbing slow, teasing circles that make your breath hitch. “I should make you beg,” he mutters, watching as your small frame trembles under his touch, as your pussy clenches around nothing, desperate for him. “But you’re already crying.”

You are crying—small, shaky sobs spilling from your lips, overwhelmed by how big he is, how much stronger, how easily he handles you. The humiliation only makes it worse, your face burning as he strokes your cheek, his thumb wiping away your tears.

"Poor puppy," he murmurs, though there’s no real pity in his voice. “Is it too much?”

You shake your head frantically, afraid he’ll stop. “N-no! Please—”

He cuts you off with a sharp tug of the leash, forcing your back to arch even further. “Then take it.”

And then he’s inside you, stretching you open with one deep, slow thrust. Your mouth falls open, a broken moan spilling out as his cock fills you completely, pushing in so deep you swear you can feel it in your stomach.

"Fuck," Rafayel groans, his hands gripping your hips as he stills, letting you adjust to his size. His fingers flex, like he’s barely restraining himself. “You’re so—” He exhales sharply, pulling out just enough before slamming back in, making you choke on your own moan.

His thrusts are rough despite the way he holds you, each movement knocking you forward, making your tits bounce with every deep stroke. His hand comes down on your ass again, the stinging heat only adding to the pleasure, and you sob into the sheets, your small puppy tail wagging wildly behind you.

He notices, because of course he does. A soft chuckle rumbles from his chest as he grips the base of your tail, stroking it slowly. "So cute," he murmurs, his tone almost tender—right before he tugs the leash hard, forcing your back to arch as he slams in deep.

Your walls flutter around him, squeezing his cock as you cry out, your body giving in completely. Rafayel groans, his pace growing rougher, more desperate, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the air.

“Cum for me, puppy,” he orders, voice firm but laced with something softer, something only for you.

And you do—your body shattering as pleasure crashes through you, your pussy squeezing his cock so tight it forces a deep groan from him. He doesn't stop, fucking you through your orgasm, gripping your leash, your tail, your hips like he owns you, and it only makes you fall apart even harder.

．－𝒮𝒴ℒ𝒰𝒮 （big size kink?!）

You barely have time to catch your breath before you're being pulled into Sylus’s lap, the leash in his hand tightening just enough to make your body jolt. His sheer size alone makes you feel small—his broad chest, strong arms, and the way his thick cock presses against your trembling thighs. You look up at him, eyes wide, cheeks flushed, and he smirks, tilting your chin up with two fingers.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, voice rich and deep, sending shivers down your spine. “So tiny compared to me… and yet, you think you can take all of me?"”

You swallow hard, your ears twitching as you nod shyly. But Sylus just chuckles, wrapping the leash around his wrist and pulling you forward until your tits press against his bare chest. “You're shaking,” he points out, his large hands sliding down to grip your hips. “Maybe I should stretch you out first. Don't want my lil’ pet breaking too soon.”

A whimper escapes your lips as he lifts you with ease, positioning you over his cock. His size is intimidating, the thick head pressing against your soaked entrance, stretching you open inch by inch. Your walls struggle to take him, your tiny body barely accommodating his girth, and you whine, gripping his shoulders.

“S-Sylus—t-too big—“

He groans at your weak little protest, his grip on your leash tightening. “Shh, you can take it,” he soothes, though his voice is thick with hunger. "You're made for this, aren't you? My pretty little puppy, all stretched around my cock."

Your breath stutters as he lowers you further, his cock sinking deep into your cunt, making your tummy bulge slightly from the sheer size of him. You whimper at the overwhelming fullness, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, and Sylus groans, gripping your ass to keep you still.

“Fuck,” he breathes, watching the way your pussy struggles to take him. “You're so fucking tight. Gonna have to train you to take me properly.”

Your fingers dig into his skin as he suddenly yanks the leash, pulling you flush against him, forcing his cock even deeper. You choke on a moan, your body clenching around him, overwhelmed by the sheer stretch. Sylus only smirks, his hand moving to your tummy, pressing down slightly.

“Feel that?” he murmurs. “That's me, buried so deep inside this lil’ pussy. Can't run from it now, sweetheart.”

You shake your head frantically, overwhelmed, but he just leans in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, “Now, be a good girl and ride me.”

You let out a shaky breath, your body trembling as you try to adjust to his sheer size. Every inch of him stretches you past your limit, making you feel impossibly small compared to him. The collar around your neck feels heavier now, especially when Sylus gives the leash another firm tug, forcing you to meet his gaze. His red eyes burn with amusement and hunger.

“What's wrong?” he taunts, his grip tightening on your hips. “Too much for my little puppy?”

You shake your head quickly, even though your body is already struggling to move. Your thighs ache, your pussy throbbing from the overwhelming stretch of his cock, but you still try to lift yourself, only to sink back down with a broken moan.

Sylus groans, his hands flexing against your ass before delivering a sharp slap to it. “Struggling already?” His voice is thick with satisfaction. “Guess I’ll have to help.”

Before you can respond, he tightens his grip and begins lifting you himself, forcing you to bounce on his cock. Each motion has you gasping, your pussy clenching down around his thick length as he guides you with ease.

“Fuck, look at you,”he murmurs, watching the way your tiny body struggles to take him. His hand presses against your stomach again, feeling the way his cock fills you. LSo damn small. You're barely able to handle me, but you're still trying so hard.”

You whimper, your ears twitching as you shyly bury your face against his chest. But Sylus only chuckles, tugging on your leash, forcing you to sit up straight again.

“Don't get shy on me now,” he growls, his other hand gripping your jaw. “I wanna see that pretty face while I wreck this tight little pussy.”

His thrusts grow rougher, your moans turning into desperate cries as he uses the leash to keep you in place. His cock slams into you with each movement, stretching you wide, making it impossible to think about anything except how deep he is inside you. Your walls flutter around him, another orgasm creeping up fast, your legs shaking from the intensity.

“S-Sylus—” you gasp, gripping his wrists, overwhelmed.

He smirks, pulling you down onto his cock one last time before holding you there, his grip keeping you locked in place. “Go on, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his breath hot against your lips. “Cum for me.”

And with one more harsh tug on your leash, you break—your pussy clamping down, body shaking violently as pleasure crashes over you. Sylus groans as he fucks you through it, his cock twitching, his movements becoming more erratic as he chases his own release.

“That's my good girl,” he growls, pulling your leash tighter as he slams into you one last time, burying himself as deep as possible before spilling inside.

Your breath stutters as you feel the warmth of his cum flooding you, his thick cock keeping every drop inside. The leash loosens slightly, and Sylus pulls you against his chest, his large hands rubbing slow circles over your trembling thighs.

“You did so well, sweetheart,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss against your forehead. “But I’m not done with you yet.”

．－𝒳𝒜𝒱ℐℰℛ （fuck boy?!）

You barely have time to recover before Xavier forces you onto all fours, the leash tightening around your throat as he tugs you into position. His grip is firm, his touch almost lazy as he runs a hand down your spine, appreciating how small you look beneath him.

“Perfect,” he murmurs, amusement lacing his voice. “On your hands and knees, just like a good little puppy should be.”

Your ears twitch, heat rushing to your face as you shyly press your cheek against the mattress. His teasing always gets to you, making you whimper, making you squirm, but he only chuckles, rolling his hips against your ass, letting you feel just how hard he is.

"Already soaked," he muses, dragging his fingers through your folds, spreading the slickness. “Are you really that desperate?”

You whine, embarrassed, but your body betrays you—your pussy clenching around nothing, aching for him. Xavier hums, amused, before gripping the base of the leash and pulling your head up.

“Use your words,” he purrs. "Tell me what you need, puppy."

Your breath hitches, your thighs trembling. “Y-you…!”

“Me what?” His tone is mocking, his free hand moving between your legs, fingers barely brushing your swollen clit. “You’re going to have to be more specific.”

You squirm, your body pushing back against him instinctively. "N-need your cock, please!"

“Good girl,” he praises, and before you can even brace yourself, he’s pushing in.

The stretch burns in the best way, his thick cock splitting you open inch by inch, forcing your body to take him. Your mouth falls open, a choked moan escaping as he bottoms out, his hips flush against your ass.

“Fuck,” he groans, pulling back slightly before snapping his hips forward again, making you jolt. “You're so fucking tight. Can barely even take me.”

You let out a weak whimper, your hands fisting the sheets as he sets a punishing pace. Each thrust knocks the breath from your lungs, his cock hitting deep, making your legs tremble. The leash tightens again, pulling your head back, arching your spine even more.

“You look so pretty like this,” he murmurs, his free hand sliding under your body, groping your tits. “Face down, ass up, struggling to handle my cock.”

Your cheeks burn, your body tingling from the mix of humiliation and pleasure. You try to bury your face in the sheets, but Xavier clicks his tongue, tugging on the leash again.

“Ah, ah. Don’t hide from me,” he scolds. “I want to see every little expression when you cum all over my cock.”

His pace grows rougher, his grip firmer, using the leash to keep you exactly where he wants you. Your pussy flutters around him, the overwhelming stretch, the deep thrusts, the way he manhandles you—it’s too much.

“I can feel you squeezing me,” Xavier groans. “Go ahead, puppy. Make a mess for me.”

And with one last sharp thrust, you break—your body shuddering, your pussy tightening around his cock as you cum hard, moaning his name. Xavier doesn’t stop, fucking you through it, chasing his own high until he slams into you one last time, spilling inside.

He stays there for a moment, his cock still buried deep, the leash still taut in his grip. Then, with a lazy smirk, he leans down, his breath warm against your ear.

“Good girl,” he murmurs. “But I think you’ve got a few more rounds in you.”

．－𝒞𝒜ℒℰℬ （hottest fuck?!）

Caleb doesn’t waste time. The moment he gets his hands on you, he’s yanking you into his lap, the leash wrapped tightly around his fist. His cock is already hard, pressing insistently against your soaked folds, and his free hand grips your waist, holding you steady.

“You've been passed around like a fucktoy all night, huh?” he muses, his voice carrying that usual teasing lilt, though there's something darker underneath. His fingers dig into your hips as he grinds against you, making you whimper. “And yet, you're still dripping for me. Such a greedy little thing.”

You whine, ears twitching as you shyly avoid his gaze, but he just chuckles, tugging the leash to make you face him.

“Don’t get all shy on me now, puppy,” he coos, leaning in to nip at your bottom lip. “You wanted this, didn’t you?”

Your breath stutters, your thighs trembling as you nod. “Y-yes…”

“Then be good and take me.”

Before you can brace yourself, Caleb lifts you effortlessly, positioning you over his cock. The thick head presses against your entrance, forcing you to stretch around him inch by inch. You let out a broken moan, your hands flying to his shoulders, gripping onto him for support.

“F-fuck, Caleb—”

“Shh, you can handle it,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your ear. “I know you can.”

He guides you down, making sure you take every inch of him. The stretch is overwhelming, the sheer size of him making your body struggle to accommodate. Your pussy clenches around his cock, your walls fluttering as you try to adjust, but Caleb only groans, his grip on your waist tightening.

“Fuck, you're so damn tight,” he growls, his voice rough. “Like this little cunt was made to take my cock.”

You let out a whimper, overwhelmed, and he smirks, tugging on the leash again. “You like that, don’t you?”

You nod weakly, too lost in the pleasure to respond properly. But Caleb isn’t satisfied with that—he grips your hips and lifts you before slamming you back down onto his cock, forcing a strangled moan from your throat.

“That's better,” he praises, his tone dripping with satisfaction. “Now, keep going. I wanna see you bounce on my cock like the perfect little pet you are.”

Your body moves on instinct, your thighs burning as you start to ride him, his cock stretching you over and over again. Caleb watches you with hooded eyes, his smirk widening as he tugs on the leash, keeping you under his control.

“Such a pretty sight,” he murmurs, his gaze dropping to where you’re impaled on his cock. “Bet you’re close already, huh?”

You nod frantically, your body trembling, the coil in your stomach tightening with every movement. Caleb chuckles, his grip tightening as he meets your movements with rough thrusts.

“Then cum for me, puppy. Show me how much you love being used.”

With one last sharp tug on the leash, you shatter—your pussy clamping down around him, your vision going white as you cry out his name. Caleb groans, fucking you through your orgasm, his cock twitching inside you before he buries himself deep, spilling inside.

He holds you there, panting slightly, his hands rubbing soothing circles against your hips. Then, with a lazy smirk, he leans in, his breath warm against your lips.

“Good girl,” he murmurs. “But don’t think we’re done just yet.”

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