#but I’m trying to write

[xx-thedarklord-xx]

How am I supposed to work in these conditions

[foldingfittedsheets]

When I was young my dad offhandedly told me he thought people treated fish with so much casual cruelty because fish can’t scream.

The words branded themselves across my soul.

As an adult I think he may have been joking. He payed no especial attention to any indignities fish suffered in our household but I could never forget. I saw fish in a different light after that.

Fish kept in tiny bowls, breathing their own poisons, dying by inches. Fish kept in cold tanks, casually disposed of. Fish touted as being short lived when they could outlive the better loved family dog if only they could breathe. Fish casually won and discarded in cheap plastic bags, thrown away a week later.

How they would scream, if they could.

[rhinestonesox]

When Senshi was young in the dungeon the majority of the adults he were with ostracized him. All except Gillin, who died to make sure Senshi had something to eat: unseasoned boiled meat that may or may not have been one of their comrades.

It really puts into perspective why he was so nurturing towards Chilchuck. When Chil reveals he’s 28 to the party, Senshi responds by telling him that he thought he was older. Senshi was in his 30s when he and his comrades got trapped in the dungeon, so it’s safe to assume that he thought Chil was at a similar age.

He met a young boy who was, from his perspective, forced to do dangerous work in the dungeon just like he was, and so, Senshi made an effort to look after Chilchuck in the same way Gillin looked after him.

Mind you, when Senshi was young in the dungeon he had to starve for weeks, eat the horse he loved, and finish it off spending the next i don’t know how many years wondering if he committed cannibalism.

Senshi understands first hand the value of nutrition and proper eating, so when he’s with the party he makes an effort to make sure they’re all eating a full and balanced diet. Not only that, but Senshi INVOLVES them in the process of getting food to eat, always preparing it in front of them and narrating every ingredient in the process so that there’s no doubt about what they’re eating.

[boysborntodie]

TUA S4 proved that Netflix cancelling their shows after the first season is actually a good thing

[loserboysandlithium]

18+ hoes

Eddie’s hand is clamped down on your mouth firmly as he pounds into your soaked pussy. Not only is Uncle Wayne home but his entire college D&D party is seated outside in the small living room waiting for Eddie to join them.

Eddie knew they were coming but he couldn’t stop. Not once the two of you had started. What was supposed to be a quickie before his campaign night was now coming up on an hour.

Your moans are muffled by his large hand as you struggle to keep your eyes open. You want to watch him. You love seeing his face as he loses himself completely. Fucking into you like an animal. His brown eyes half lidded, drunken mumbles of praise falling from his lips, the sound of your slick coating his cock every time he enters you.

“So fuckin good. Feels so fuckin good.” he murmurs, slowing down his thrusts. He looks down, watching as he pulls his long cock out, glistening with your cum. He pulls out almost completely before slamming back into you with a force so rough you scream into his hand.

Eddie chuckles darkly as nothing but a squeak escapes through his fingers. “Gotta be quiet, princess. We’ve got company.” he teases cruelly before he’s back at it. Shoving his cock deep inside, making your eyes roll. He loves every second of making you lose your mind beneath him.

You struggle to speak, mumbling a single word against his palm multiple times before he finally removes his hand.

“Harder.” you finally breathe out and Eddie’s eyes darken as a beautiful smirk appears on his lips.

“I fucking love you.” he moans before fucking into you with every ounce of strength he has.

[emuanon34]

[supercutszns]

a place with you; luke castellan

wc: 2.8k (got a little carried away whoops)

pairing: luke castellan x f! reader

synopsis: luke is used to people coming in and out of hermes’ cabin without a second thought. so when you’re having a hard time adjusting to camp life, he doesn’t expect you to stick by his side, even after you’re claimed.

warnings/notes: shy reader going through a tough time, hurt/comfort, pining, kisses, fluff, potential ooc luke i don’t know what i’m doing, most of this is prob inaccurate lol, i got wayyy too attatched to this i am sorry, title inspired by dragon eyes by adrianne lenker

Luke Castellan is the son of a messenger. He’s used to delivering, passing things along, letting them enter his life and leave him. Sometimes it makes him angry. At his father, at the world, at himself.

So when you passed through the Hermes cabin for the inevitable few weeks before getting claimed by your Godly parent, the last thing Luke expected was for you to stay.

When you first got to camp you were terrified. Luke remembers that much. He can still picture you in Chiron’s towering shadow as he led you up to Hermes cabin. He gave you the usual spiel about the cabin, the land of the unclaimed, but it clearly hadn’t quelled your nerves. You were wringing your fingers together when Luke first spotted you, your eyes blown wide in what he knew as shock and a sort of . . . grief. For a life you’d left for what Luke knows as a life you’d never really have. He’d seen it in so many campers before you. He’d see it many times after.

“This is Luke, Hermes’ head counsellor and one of Camp Half-Blood’s finest,” Chiron pointed him out to you at the entrance. After Chiron introduced you, Luke held your name in his memory. Not because there was anything particularly intriguing about you at first, to be honest, because he’d seen a lot of people like you that needed help settling in (although maybe not many his age). It was harder for some people to adjust than most. He knew that better than anyone.

“Nice to meet you,” he stuck out his hand for you to shake after Chiron left. “I’m Luke.”

You sniffed, shaking it without looking at him. You were so, so embarrassed. This whole time you’d been too stupidly overwhelmed to process anything. Why was this so hard for you? Was it this hard for everyone? “Hi,” you managed, and that was it.

Now, weeks after your first meeting, you’ve concluded that it was not, in fact, this hard for everyone. The camp is crowded but full of life. You’ve never seen more happy kids in your life. There’s a sense of community on the wind.

So why can’t you feel it? Why is it so hard to connect with people? To participate in the fun? Everywhere you look there’s people but it’s all just so . . . lonely. You don’t fit. You’re lost.

Luke wakes up at night when the cabin door creaks open. He’s already tossing, so it’s no surprise he catches it. Unfortunately, he’s supposed to be a good counsellor—sneaking out at night is against the rules, and you’ve gotta reign the strays back in before they cause a ruckus. Sure, Luke’s not exactly a stickler for the law, but the least he owes is to make sure everyone’s safe.

Groaning, he draws himself out of the comfort of his bunk but doesn’t get far when he spots a familiar silhouette slipping out the door. He knows it’s you. He’s been hearing crying at night, and this is confirming his suspicions. It makes him ache in a million different places. Every time he thought about approaching you he shut himself down almost instantly, because who the hell wants some random guy coming up to them in the middle of the night and drawing attention?

This time, though, he’s a little worried.

It’s chilly tonight but not too bad, especially when you’re huddled up in a ball on a hill in front of the lake, grass tickling your ankles. Your tears keep you warm.

It’s a sorrow that feels bottomless. You don’t know what’s gotten into you. You don’t know why everything’s so hard.

There’s a scuffling of shoes, and your name is carried to you on the heels of a breeze. Oh God. There’s someone else here.

You sniff and smear your tears on the palms of your hands the best you can but a little part of you only wants to cry more now that you’re all anxious, and you only have a few seconds to collect yourself before you turn around and see Luke, your cabin leader, with furrowed brows. “Oh, h-hi, Luke.” It’s hard to ignore the splinter in your voice. You curse yourself a thousand times.

“Hey,” he says hesitantly, eyeing you in a way that makes you feel entirely exposed. “You, uh, you know you’re not technically supposed to be out here, right?”

You start to scramble to your feet with an apology on your tongue but surprisingly he laughs, a gentle sound, and beckons you to sit back down. “No, no, I’m not gonna get you in trouble or anything, just . . . letting you know.”

It’s uncertain if you should keep sitting, but you decide to because well, you’re already down here, and things can’t go lower than this. Luke comes to sit next to you and you stare out into the sea like your life depends on it. “Wanna talk about why you’re out here?”

“Wh-what do you mean?”

“I mean,” Luke sighs, scooting a little closer to you. “Most people don’t up and leave in the middle of the night because they’re having a great time.”

The answer is too hard to say so you don’t reply.

Again, Luke sighs, and you try not to look at the shadow the moon casts on his admittedly handsome face. “It’s hard settling in, I know. It happens to a lot of people. I’ve . . . I’ve seen a lot of them, and it doesn’t get any easier.”

“Well it sure seems easier,” you snap, and your self-control flies away before you can stop it. “I have no idea why I can’t just suck it up and fit in here. Everyone seems so happy and it’s driving me nuts because I’m just so confused on why I can’t—why I can’t—process any of it.” Tears burn your eyes. “I’m just miserable. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

In the corner of your view, Luke’s face falls. “I’m your guide, you know that, right? I can help you.”

You sniff, embarrassingly pathetic. “I know.”

He comes even closer. “So why didn’t you ask?”

“Because I—I don’t know, you’re busy all the time with all the people in there, so I’m sure your job’s already stressful as is, so—”

“My job is to help you,” he says, a hand on your shoulder. “That’s what I signed up for. If you need something, I’m the one to ask.”

“I’m not sure you signed up for me crying like a baby,” you swallow, the ripples of the lake blurring together. “I mean, I’m like, older than half the kids here, and they’re all so much better than me. I’m not good at a—anything, and I’ve tried it all, and nobody’s claimed me yet, and I feel so weird and old and alone and . . .” It’s too much to think about so you dig the heels of your palms into your eyes, hoping the sting wards off the thoughts. “What if I’m nothing? Why am I here?”

You’re crying again, hiccuping into your hands. Shame sears into you. Luke’s arm curls around your shoulders and you realize how cold you are when he’s warm, so warm, and you want to cry even harder. You don’t even know him, but it’s the most tenderness you’ve received in what feels like years. “Hey, deep breaths,” he murmurs, rubbing your arm with his other hand. “It’s okay. Look at me.”

It takes a ridiculous amount of strength to heed him. His hand catches your cheek and you can’t bear to pull away. Something strange rustles in your stomach.

Luke’s taught instinct when faced with situations like these is to reassure that the Gods always have a plan. But he doesn’t feel like much of a liar tonight. Both his hands steady your face towards his, your skin damp and cold beneath his thumb. “It's not your fault. It always takes a little bit of time for people to get claimed, it’s never . . . well, you can never tell.”

“What if I don’t get claimed?” You say it so quiet you can pretend it was imaginary.

His eyes crinkle at the sides when he says, “Well, Hermes’ll always have a place for you.”

I’ll, Luke wants to say, I’ll. His father is not responsible for his cabin’s kindness.

“No one really prepares you for how overwhelming this is,” he continues, thumb rubbing the apple of your cheek. Your vision is clearer now, and Gods, he is handsome, isn’t he? Even when his eyes are forlorn. “It’s harder in a way when you’re older. More to leave behind. Less to look forward to. It’s easier when you have a friend. Or a great cabin head.” He tilts his head with a faint smile, “Lucky for you, I’m both.”

It almost makes you laugh, and that’s enough. “It’ll get easier,” he promises softly. “There’s nothing wrong with you.”

Your cheeks burn. It’s hard to keep his gaze, so you blot at your eyes with your hands as Luke gently slides his off your face. “Thank you. Sorry for, um, all that. And the crying.”

He chuckles, “Don’t even worry about it.” You watch him rise in the throes of starlight. He offers you a hand. “Aren’t you cold?” He asks after pulling you up, and you sheepishly nod your head. He tosses you a sweater he’s been wearing, and it smells like firewood. Nostalgic, in a way. “I’m gonna poke around for some tea. Wait for me back at the cabin.”

Before he leaves, he squeezes your arm and that thing happens again in your stomach. “No need to be embarrassed, by the way. You can come to me anytime. I’m probably less busy than I look.” As he walked away, he added, “And don’t worry about the crying. You’re pretty either way.”

Either way. The tea doesn’t seem important anymore because your face is on fire.

Time reveals that Luke is right. He is a great cabin leader and a friend, and it’s hard to tell which he’s better at. You fall in with him right away. Soon enough, you’re drawn into your new life, so slowly you barely realize it’s happening. The days get shorter and you start wishing they were longer. The nights get easier. And when they’re not, Luke tucks you into his bunk and folds you in his arms until you drift off. You pick up a bow. A sword. Luke tells you to straighten your shoulders with a hand on the small of your back, and you swear it always lingers. You braid garlands of carnations for your cabin mates and they wear them with pride. It’s warm, your cheeks hurt from smiling, and things start to feel like home.

Until you’re claimed.

Now you’re a ghost in Hermes cabin, another empty bunk to be filled, and Luke stares at it until he can remember every last detail of what it looked like when it was yours. A beautiful, gentle daughter of Demeter, no longer in arms’ reach. He should’ve seen it coming.

He sees you with your siblings all the time. You’re so happy and he envies it. You belong there, he knows that, the way your face lights up at the dinner table and how you giggle when your half-sister presents you a flower. But sometimes your eyes wander, and something inside them dulls, until you look at him, too.

Luke’s place at camp is to be nothing but a funnel for lost campers to find their home. He’s a temporary stop in everybody’s journey. He’d made peace with it a long time ago. But here you are, messing it all up, because you still don’t leave him.

You beg him to give you another sword-fighting lesson. You sit next to him at bonfires. You pick him for partner camp activities. It doesn’t matter how many younger boys want to latch onto him for guidance—he sees you heading towards him, and he can’t imagine choosing anyone else.

But you’re always whisked away by your siblings, separated at meals and in sleep and in activities so it’s never, ever enough. Why did he delude himself into thinking you’d stay forever?

After weeks of distance from you, he’s elated when you have even a fraction of a conversation. “Hey, Luke!” You call out to him, and he finds you instantly. You’ve broken away from your siblings to get to him.

“Hey,” he smiles, and hopes he doesn’t look too pleased.

You lean a little towards his ear, and you smell like every wonderful thing in the world. “Can we hang out tonight? On the hill?” You’re a little bashful when you say it and it’s entirely endearing. Even now, you’re still so unsure. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too,” he says almost instantly, and it makes you look less nervous. “Yes. Absolutely. But don’t get caught breaking curfew now, you hooligan.”

Someone calls your name and you give a curt, playful nod. “Yes sir, camp counsellor sir!” He carries your laugh close to his heart until night falls.

You’re already there when he arrives, a vision in the moonlight before he even sees your face. “Hey, angel.”

When you turn around you look flustered. He won’t pretend like it doesn’t flatter him. “H—hi, uh, hello.”

There’s a moment where the world is still. The two of you, alone, for the first time in ages.

He sits down next to you, and it’s like the first time all over again. You get to talking, about your days, your anecdotes, your cabins. The strangeness of it all. “It’s so weird waking up in the morning and not having you yapping in my ear,” you remark, and he teasingly pushes your shoulder.

“Well, one of us has to be the talker, and it’s clearly not you,” he retorts.

You fiddle with blades of grass between your fingertips, weaving them together. “I’ll have you know I had a cabin-wide conversation about Capture The Flag yesterday, and I contributed greatly.”

“Oh, really?” He grins, knocking your elbow to steal your attention. “Look at you, coming out of your shell. I’m so proud.”

It’s hard to hold his gaze for more than a second. You’re afraid you’ll do something stupid if he keeps looking at you like that, but you almost want to. “Oh, shut up.”

He puts a hand on your shoulder. “No, I’m serious. I’m proud.” His eyes rake over your face. “You’re flourishing. You found your place.”

You can’t stop yourself from saying, “I kind of miss my old one.”

There’s a way he studies your expression that makes you feel utterly helpless. You wish you could dish it back to him, but you know you just look awestruck whenever you stare at him for so long. He’s quieter when he replies, “I miss it, too. A lot. Sometimes, I—” His face scrunches up like he just tasted something sour. “Nevermind.”

Frowning, you prod, “What? What is it?”

He sighs and turns to the horizon. This is the first time you’ve ever seen him struggle. “Sometimes, I wish you hadn’t been claimed. Sorry, that’s . . . that’s awful, I know.”

His surprise is evident when you say, “Sometimes I wish I wasn’t either.”

He turns back to you. “Really?”

“Really,” you nod, staring at the beads on his necklace. “You’re the only reason I’ve adjusted here at all.”

“Don’t sell yourself short.”

“It’s true. And I miss you.” A few months ago you would’ve kicked yourself for saying this. But Luke has a way of inspiring confidence in people.

“I miss you, too. So much.” He gently prys the grass you’ve been weaving out of your hands, now a small necklace. “But look at how talented you are. I’ll tell you, I’m lucky you’re still sticking around. For most people, Hermes is touch-and-go.”

Luke leans forward to tie the garland around your neck, and your pulse picks up. “This isn’t about Hermes, Luke,” you try to be firm but it comes out soft. “It’s about you.”

His hands stop fiddling and rest on your neck. When he speaks, you can feel his breath on you. And you have no idea that he’s been waiting to hear that his whole life. “What’s about me?”

It’s not fair, your inability to string sentences together only worsens right when a beautiful boy is this close to you. “Hermes isn’t—it’s not special because of your father, it’s special because of you.”

There is nothing else you can possibly think of saying with the way his fingers trace up your neck and hold your jaw. “Yeah, well,” he murmurs, “The only reason anything in my life is special is because of you.”

You don’t know if it’s a lie or not; you don’t care. His nose nudges yours. There’s a moment where you wonder if this is as close to Elysium you’ll ever get. Then he slips a hand to the back of your neck and pulls you to his mouth.

He kisses you in a near fury, then when he knows you’re not going anywhere, it’s the gentlest thing you know. It’s hard to believe this is even happening. Your hands weave through his curls but he holds you steady, and thank the Gods for that because you’re pretty sure you’re melting. You kiss again, and again, and again, until you genuinely think you’re going to pass out and you have to pull away.

“Aw, look at you,” he murmurs when you can’t meet his eyes, a playful lilt in his voice. “Still so nervous.”

“Would you shut up?” You press your face into the crook of his neck with a huge smile.

He kisses the top of your head. “Love to, angel.”

Luke Castellan is the son of a messenger. He’s supposed to believe he’s bringing the best of humanity to the Gods and glory above.

But screw the Gods. He’s keeping this one for himself.

[shepscapades]

Posted to Twitter for the first time in 5 years /silly DSFGNFGB So here’s my atttempt at a more finished piece, inspired by Doc’s newest episode :D

Actually recorded a short timelapse for this one too, so that’s below the cut :D

[seawaveleo]

enjoying season 10 immensely

[beetleandfox]

I love how unsanitized The Terror feels. Like there’s grime everywhere. You can tell those men smell bad. When they do surgery you can hear the bone being cut, when they get sick they look genuinely ill. The main character’s actor even has pockmarks, he LOOKS like he could be from the 1800s! And idk, I think it’s cool that we’re so aware of the characters’ carnal desires. They’re hungry, thirsty, freezing, etc, and it is so obvious that they have a body with needs!!

I think this also accounts for how horny the show feels, even though everyone is bundled up 90% of the time and there are no real romantic subplots. Besides the fact that it’s a very carnal show, it just has the intimacy and grime of true horniness. Is this thing on

[dearneuvi]

MDNI - scar x fem!reader, oral (f. receiving), this game has me in a chokehold

“Really?” Scar laughs, hands resting on your thighs amused with just how easy he found himself getting you sprawled out underneath him. “You’re quiet now? Where’d my favourite little viper go?”

You don’t reply. You can’t. Opening your mouth, letting out those noises he’s been so desperately trying to coax from you, saying anything that might let him know, for certain, he’s got you so perfectly under his thumb. You won’t risk it.

But he already knows.

His warmth on your skin, his rough fingers pulling at your clothing as he watches your glazed expression; he watches as you impatiently wait for him to touch you again. Almost completely naked underneath him, you should feel more shame, more embarrassment, more hatred for the man. But you just can’t bring yourself to care as he rises above you, pulling at your underwear until you fidget beneath him, giving him just enough room to slide the clothing down your legs.

“You’re going to make me work for it, huh.” Your eyebrows furrow as you scowl at him, biting your lip to stop your rebuttal—you don’t trust your voice. Scar lets out a laugh, a condescending sound that, you hate to admit, sends shiver throughout your body. “Don’t look at me like that.” He leans down again, nose bumping against yours deceptively softly, his breath warm and wet against your lips. “It makes me want to devour you.”

Dipping his head he presses a chaste kiss to your jaw, your neck, your collarbone. Lower and lower, his hair tickling your bare skin. Scar moves agonisingly slowly, teasing you with the tiny touches, tongue lazily swiping at the skin of your thigh.

Your sharp intake of breath is bliss to his ears; you barely manage to hold in the soft whimper threatening to escape as you look down to him, meeting his eyes, looking too content settled between your legs.

His eyes don’t leave yours and you can’t look away even if you wanted to, you’re hypnotised by his gaze as he, finally, runs his tongue through your folds, groaning at the taste of your arousal. Scar watches you with a smug look, waiting for the moment you let your shields down, let yourself come undone because of him.

It isn’t until his tongue circles your clit and his lips surround the sensitive bud when he finally lives to his words and devours. You’re broken from your trance, head falling to the pillow as his tongue moves with perfect precision, pulling sound after embarrassing sound from your throat.

You try to hold them back; you intend to push him away but the second you hands get close they tangle in his hair pulling him closer with a tight grip. Or, as tight as you can manage as the bolts of pleasure shock through your body.

Pulling away only to brush his teeth against the inside of your thigh, thumb rubbing continuous circles against your clit, relishing in the way your body writhes wishing he had some way of immortalising the image in that moment. Wondering what your righteous friends would think if they knew how easy it had been to get you into this position; to almost have you begging for the release he was in charge of.

Scar latches himself to your cunt. Consuming you like you are his very life force, drinking you in as though you were his first meal in weeks. The obscene sounds full the room, his guttural moans as you rake your fingers into his hair mix with your breathless words. Your chants of please encouraging him to torment you further, detaching himself from you as your body stiffens, leaving you seconds from your climax.

You whine as he catches your hands, desperate to push yourself over that edge he’s leaving you teetering on, lacing his fingers between yours. “Scar.” Your breathless voice, pitiful in comparison to what he’s so familiar with. His viper long gone, replaced with such a meek creature—he wants to break you down more.

He rises, pressing himself against you as his lips fan yours again. Your hips grind against his, glazed eyes meeting his and soft panting warming his skin.

You must have lost your mind. You’ve let him get you exactly where he wants you.

“It’s okay, Sweetheart.” He cooes, pushing his hips in response to yours, your moan swallowed quickly as he catches you in a messy kiss, taking the last of your sanity with his surprising expertise. Scar smirks as he finally pulls away, your body shaking beneath him, and clawing at his clothing. “I’m far from done with you.”

[the-witchhunter]

DP x DC Camp

The Batfam force Damian to go to summer camp to socialize with kids his own age and have some normal childhood experiences

That’s all well and good, but normal does not describe his cabin’s councilor, one Daniel “for the love of Ancients call me Danny” Fenton

Between the son of the bat and a Fenton, camp is going to be weird

[happypeachsludgeflower]

Liu Qingge comes back to find out that everyone believes Shen Qingqiu murdered him and he’s offended that anyone would think Shen Qingqiu could beat him in a fight. And, as Liu Qingge bitches people out for believing such a ridiculous tale, Shen Qingqiu is off to the side muttering about how he “could absolutely kill that brute if he wanted to.” Liu Qingge turns to him exasperated, grumpy, and annoyed and snaps, “You couldn’t even stop me from killing myself.”

[l3viat8an]

idk if it’s just me but ANGRY SEX omfg like imagine they just get so angry they HAVE to pound the shit out of you 🤭🤭 - 🪰

Nsfw

I got like 9 asks about angry /  rough sex in like an hour the other day from different anons are y’all okay? Just horny?

CW: angry / rough-ish sex, afab! reader, pick your boy cuz I couldn’t lmao

You don’t even remember what the fight was about…did you even have an argument?…Your mind is too fuzzy to think straight…..

Not right now anyway, not while he has you pressed against the wall with your legs wrapped around his waist…not while he’s pounding into you so roughly, all you can do is moan and claw at his shirt trying to ground yourself.

Hell he’d practically ripped off, mumbling about getting them out of his way. Not that you care right now-

Your too busy moaning, whining with every movement of his hips, every slide of his cock in and out of your poor abused cunt….

His fingers digging into you ass so hard you’ll definitely have little bruises tomorrow. All while he keeps nipping and sucking at your neck, making sure to mark you as his even when he’s angry. Especially when he’s angry

Only pausing to whisper degrading words right in your ear, mocking you for letting him fuck you like this even after you said you were mad at him, even after yelling at each other….calling you a whore, his whore and asking if you knew you’d end up like this?

You both knew you’ll always end up like this-

Your eyes fall closed as you moan louder….begging for more…until you let out a surprised gasp as he pulls you away from the wall, your arms tightening around his shoulders at the sudden shift and now he’s using his grip on your ass to bounce you on his cock, chuckling at your startled expression.

You can only whine louder and hold on tighter as he uses you as a little fuck toy……you’d be embarrassed if it didn’t feel so fucking good-

Maybe you really did deserve the way he mocked you-

His cock keeps hitting your sweet spot inside you just perfectly~

Hearing him groan in your ear as you cum around his cock.

Seeing that damn smirk on his face when your walls keep spasming around his cock, as if you still want more even deeper inside, and he taunts you by calling you a slut….his slut as he moves, dropping you on bed.

Pushing you down as he trusts into you again, moving his hips faster and faster until he’s pounding into you again….until he’s cumming…..moaning your name as he stuffs your poor little cunt with his sticky cum….

[minty364]

DPXDC Prompt #142

It was considered a pretty big deal when a new ancient gets born. Danny didn’t and wouldn’t know this when he gets into an accident. A signal went out to all magic users that the ancient of space was born as soon as he stepped out of the portal and then things changed. If you could make a deal with an ancient it increased your power way more than that of a demon. Soon Danny gets chased by all sorts of folk trying to make a deal with him. He then gets caught by John Constantine who takes him back to the safety of the watchtower. What is the safest place to put the space ancient? In space!

[iguessthisisanewobsession]

Danny didn’t mean to be so shady.

He had been working hard on his duplicates and had recently gained the ability to morph his appearance.

So he decided to challenge himself to see how long he could run a small business only using him and his clones.

The plan was to, at most, seem to have a group of quirky employees.

Unfortunately, it seems he has accidentally left more of an impression of being a shell company for less than legal reasons.

Good news is that he had did all the legal legwork properly and was not breaking the law.

Bad news was that the bats were getting suspicious and were trying to catch him in some sort of act.

Oh well, this just means that the difficulty has ramped up!