#one piece dumpster fire

[noahmullariii]

the rage I feel when reading Blood of Olympus chapters 45-56 is almost equivalent in magnitude to the absolute joy I experience when reading The Last Olympian chapters 1-23.

remember when percabeth was good? when they meant the world to each other but had other people they cared about (nico, for one. both of them. so much), other worries and other storylines aside from their romantic plot? and when nico's completed arc wasn't repeated for no reason other than to dump more trauma on the youngest character in the series? when background characters were included in the story not for all the unnecessary last minute romantic subplots but because they were fun and fascinating to learn more about? and were actually friends with main characters? remember when grover was percy and annabeth's best friend forever? and antagonists were actually interesting and intimidating and had compelling goals? and the story revolved around friendship and family and loyalty? and death was definite and loss was palpable and battles were thrilling?

yeah. good times.

[itsagoodluckkiss]

Anyways, another MENA erasure from roles of characters that are middle eastern and one of the producers of season 2 is an active Zionist that signed the petition trying to revoke Bisan's (the Palestinian journalist recording the g*nocide in Gaza) nomination in the Emmy's. This is another reminder to cancel your Netflix subscription, and if you want to watch OPLA season 2, just pirate it. It's more in the One Piece spirit as well.

[theredcaptain]

Crocopossum

That’s it. That’s the post.

[nethhiri]

Marooned: Chapter 10

Kid X FemReader x Killer

Had big plans for Chapter 10 but decided to split it into two chapters. Felt like it would flow better.

Warnings: attempted SA, violence, murder

Femme Fatale

It was your third day on the ship and you woke up on the floor of the infirmary after slipping off Mini's side at some point in the night. Getting off the ground was harder than you wanted it to be. My back is so fucked. You stretched until the pain softened and then went to the mess hall, this time with everyone else. The outfit that you had made from hand-me-downs was much better than what you had on, but since it was a dress, you didn't really want to wear it until you had panties. You knew if you tried to wear it without them, a wardrobe malfunction would inevitably happen. 

After grabbing your plate, you looked around for a place to sit, eyes from all around darted to you. It felt like your first day at the marine academy all over again. You saw Heat, but he was with the higher ranking people. The girls all sat together at one end of a table. That was your best bet, though you hadn't had female friends in a while. As a kid, you looked like a boy and hung out with the boys for the most part. And in your more recent life, you were the only female on the crew. Approaching the table, your foot hit something and you nearly tripped. Catching yourself, you turned to see what you tripped over and saw the same man that didn't heed your advice about the poisonous fruit retract his foot. The son of a bitch tried to trip you. Him and his buddies snickered at you, stopping pretty quickly after you stared them down. You weren't a captain anymore, but you still carried an aura of authority. It had always been second nature. You rolled your eyes, heading towards the girls. Losers.

"Mind iff I sit?" you nodded towards an empty space.

"Go ahead," a kind looking woman with big hair slapped the spot next to her. "I'm Quincy. Sorry about Synth over there. He's new." 

"I see," you eyed him. You ate without saying anything else.

"You're taking care of Killer, right? He usually cooks and it's MUCH better than this. I promise."

You shrugged, "It's the best stuff I've eaten in a few years." Curiosity about Killer tickled your mind. You wondered how good of a chef he was. It was odd for a first-mate to also cook.

"I hope Killer wakes up soon. Captain is getting agitated. I think he locked himself in his workshop all day yesterday." Quincy was sort of rambling.

A very petite woman with green pigtails spoke up, "Yeah we put bets that he was with you, new girl, since you were missing all day, too." You found out later she was called Dive. "But you're walking fine so I guess not." 

You blinked at her and felt your face turn red. "Gross." You hid behind your napkin, pretending to wipe your mouth off while you willed your face to cool off. Much of your day alone yesterday was spent bitching to Killer's unconscious form about how much Kid annoyed you, which then somehow evolved into daydreaming about hate-fucking him. The rest of the table sat up a little straighter as a harsh flick to the back of your head alerted you to the presence of the Red Menace.

"What's gross now?" He put his hands on yours and Quincy's shoulders and leaned down with his signature smirk.

As the rest of the group was a chorus of "nothing", your voice stood out, "You." You ducked to shake his hand from your shoulder, grabbing your plate and heading to put it up.

"HAH?" There was stomping coming up behind you. Quickening your pace, you slipped out onto the deck and waited there with your arms crossed. You thought about going to the infirmary, but it was nice outside, and you wanted to see why Kid came up to you in the first place. The door to the deck slammed open and he made a beeline for you, holding a mop. "ROTTEN!" He shoved it at you. "I want this deck spotless or yer gonna be at the bottom of the ocean." 

Taking the mop from him, you conceded, "Aye, Captain." 

Kid narrowed his amber eyes in your direction. He expected you to put up a bit more of a fight and he didn't like your tone, but he stalked towards Wire, who was manning the helm, without another word. Maybe it wasn't the tone that really bothered him, but the silky way the word "Captain" rolled from your mouth and the way your eyes teasingly sparkled at him. He didn't notice before, that your right eye wasn't a normal prosthetic. It was a strange-looking log pose. Mentally, he was keeping a list of every odd thing about you, including the fact that when he looked at you from the side, your left side, there was a strange familiarity. Yesterday, he spent the time in his workshop investigating your hybrid weapon. It was the worst, most impractical thing he had ever seen. He knew he could make a better version, not for you of course, he just liked the challenge. 

Before you started your assigned duty, you called Minerva out to lay in the sun. She loved a good sunbathing session. Every time you started a new section, she would trot her stubby legs over and plop down near you. As people passed by, her snout followed them, sniffing and grunting at the air. Some of the girls from this morning asked if they could pet her, which she thoroughly enjoyed. When you needed a break, you set the mop down in her tusks. Mini didn't appreciate it, but her lack of will to shake it off made her tolerate it. To pass the time, you softly sang to yourself some of the shanties you knew. Some of the crew joined in when they passed by, which brought a small smile to your face. Maybe the Kid pirates aren't so terrible. From the stories you used to hear, you thought they would be rougher. Lost in thoughts, you didn't notice most of the crew filter under the deck for lunch. Several other pairs of eyes noticed that you were alone on deck, however. 

Minerva's ears flipped forward an instant before there was an arm around your neck, cutting off your air supply. "All by yourself are ya, girl? We think you could use some company." Rank breath said, so close to your neck you could throw up. His hand groped your chest and he snickered. "No bra?  Just for us? Our lucky day." Your heartbeat flew at the unfortunately familiar situation. Unpleasant memories threatened to flood in and you beat them back. That was the past and this was the present, and you weren't going to let phantoms get in your way of beating someone's ass. You never had. You saw the fur on Mini's back stand up. The click of gun being cocked was the only thing stopping her from annihilating the two lackeys that were with this waste of carbon. You took a breath to steady yourself as adrenaline rushed into your veins. They picked the wrong one. Sliding your foot back for a solid balance, you flipped him over your back and swiftly grabbed the mop you dropped. Snapping the head off over your knee you got in a defensive stance. 

"I would tell you that you don't want to do this, but I desperately need to blow off steam and I didn't like you the second you opened your mouth on that island." One of Synth's friends aimed his weapon at you.

"Aim at the pig. I'm going to teach this bitch a lesson myself." It was only fair you let him get off the ground. Once. 

A wicked smile sat on your features. "You're the only pig I see here." This was self-defense, a green flag to inflict permanent damage. It had been a while since you fought. The voice in your head reminded you to hold back. They didn't need to know your prowess and you would definitely be flagged as a former marine for some moves. It would be hard, though, since they already reminded you of the people you swore to kill when you were back at sea. Rage was the perfect antidote to poisoned memories. No phantoms, red was all you saw. 

You circled each other. Synth lunged at you with a blade that you hadn't noticed before. Wonderful. I brought a mop to a knife fight. You slid out of the way, letting him run past you and hitting him as hard as you could with the mop handle, without using haki, in the head. He wasn't knocked out but he was knocked down, knife clattering on the wood. You stepped on his hand as he reached for it and picked it up yourself. If stupid Kid hadn't taken your weapon, this would be over a lot faster. You needed to free Minerva up from being held under gunpoint. You would be damned if you called for help, especially from Kid. You had too much pride.

Testing the weight of the blade in your hand, you whipped it at Lackey #1. Several things happened simultaneously: Lackey #1 dropped his gun when the knife plunged into his stomach, Lackey #2 had his attention drawn away from Mini and onto you, you followed your throw and hit him upside the head with the mop, and Quincy had seen it all happen from the door. She had noticed you weren't at the table with them like this morning and went to grab you for lunch. Lackey #1 hit the floor screaming and looking for his gun, which was a ways away from you both. Blood rushed in your ears so loudly, you didn't hear it. A searing pain ripped through your thigh as a bullet went clean through to the deck. Lackey #2 was aiming for your chest when Mini rammed him and flung him straight up into the air. You stumbled as your leg spasmed under you. Looking for Synth, he wasn't where you left him. You cursed your inability to use observation haki as you felt yourself being hit from the side and being tackled to the deck. Synth was over you balling his fist. White covered your vision as you felt it connect with your face. When color flooded back, you saw your fake eye rolling across the deck. No, no, no. That was the key to finding the people you owed a visit. His hands were around your throat and your vision threatened to fade again as you struggled to take a breath. Like a viper, the palm of your hand struck out at his face, crushing his nose and causing his grip to falter. Despite the pain in your leg, you managed to flip him off you and get your legs around his throat in a triangle chokehold. Blood from his face coated your hand and you tasted iron in your mouth. As soon as you got your bearings, you saw Lackey #1 crawling to his gun. "Mini!" you rasped. She looked to where you pointed. Lackey #2 was also crawling to his gun, clearly having a worse time since his fall from the sky broke a few bones. She trotted to the gun, which happened to be slightly closer to her and kicked it close enough that you could lunge to grab it. Lackey #1 was taking aim at Mini, who had turned her attention to him, lowering her head to charge. Synth was fighting your hold, though weakly. Squeezing him harder, you tried to get him to stop moving. Your aim wasn't as good as it was when you had two eyes. Depth perception was a real bitch. The bullet cracked through the air as you took aim and shot. You saw him fall from the corner of your vision as you did the same thing to Lackey #2. The pistol cocked a third time. Your hand gripped his hair and yanked his head to the side to get a better angle, pressing the cold steel to his temple. It didn't fire when you pulled the trigger, not the next time either. You settled for pistol whipping him. Releasing him from your hold, you sat on his chest instead and let him know what a real punch felt like, knocking his teeth out. There were suddenly hands pulling you off him as you cocked your fist back to get him again. 

You hadn't noticed the commotion that was now on deck. Quincy had ran down to the mess in a panic to tell Kid what was happening. The crew were whispering amongst themselves as Kid walked over to where Heat and Wire had you restrained. He didn't acknowledge you at all. Your heart dropped into your stomach. He looked mad. So mad he was silent instead of his usual screaming self. Pain started to seep into your body as the adrenaline wore off and you caught your breath. Kid spoke directly to Wire, "Keep her in the med bay until I'm done." His voice was low with unbridled rage. You watched Kid stalk off to Synth and pick him up by the hair before he disappeared under the deck. Wait is he mad at him or me? Or both?  Wire and Heat half-dragged you to the infirmary while your eyes scanned the deck for your eye. If it was gone, your life would be a lot more difficult.

You fought their hold on you. "I can walk," your voice was still raspy. Wire half-heartedly slapped the bullet hole in your thigh. Gritting your teeth through the pain, "What the fuck?" 

"Not everything has to be a fight. Let us help you," Heat said, trying to make up for Wire's rougher approach. 

You spat out a fake laugh. "Oh yeah? By doing what? Keeping me captive so your captain can choke me to death himself?" They didn't say anything else until they set you down on the counter in the infirmary. Mini followed them in, eyeing them warily. Heat stayed by the door and you could see Wire guarding it from the outside. You scooted on the counter to grab gauze and antiseptic. You wished you could use your power to restore yourself but they would notice if a wound was suddenly gone. From the cabinet you took some pain pills and washed them down with water straight from the sink faucet. You looked yourself over, noticing that this was not a job for some pieces of gauze. You hopped on your good leg and with Minerva's assistance, made it to the bathroom.

"Leave the door open." 

"Heat, I didn't take you for a pervert like your captain."

He frowned and closed his eyes. "I'm not..." Heat genuinely seemed a bit insulted. "Just need to know you didn't pass out from blood loss," he muttered. 

"I'll tell you when to open them." You stripped off the bloody and torn clothes, easing yourself into the shower. The water was cold at first. It helped to dull the pain, or that was the pain medicine kicking in. Gingerly, you washed out the various cuts and wounds, wincing at the sting. When the water turned from rusty-brown to clear, you got out, dried off, and went to where you had Killer's old shirt. Slipping it on and buttoning it you cleared your throat, "Ok, you can open." You pushed yourself back up on the counter and continued to disinfect your major cuts. After you dressed the last one, you sat in silence with your hands between your knees. 

"Who are you?" Heat only had curiosity behind his eyes, no malice or suspicion.

"Does it matter? Kid is gonna kill me for shooting those guys." He probably wanted you alive so he could torture you to his heart's content. 

"Nah. Those guys were brand new." Heat continued after considering what to say, "Captain is probably mad at himself for not keeping a closer eye on them. If it wasn't you it could have been one of the other girls." Heat grinned, "And between you and me, you're much stronger than them."

You looked down at your feet. "I'm glad it was me then," you said softly. That was something you could understand. It always felt terrible when you were unable to protect someone in your crew. It felt like you were a failure as a captain. The girls all seemed nice enough and they were obviously tough if they were part of the Kid Pirates. Even you had gotten hurt, though, so it could have been worse for one of them. 

You hopped over to Killer, checking on him. "Damn, this dude can sleep." You prodded him. Placing your ear to his chest, there was still a little mucus rattling around. You were a little tired yourself after all that had transpired. Mini was already asleep in her corner. There was a chair near Killer's legs that you plopped in. You weren't about to ask Heat to give you a boost into your bunk, so you folded your arms where there was space on the stretcher and laid your head down.

Next

[ssreeder]

how are we feeling about the new netflix adaptation of avatar??!!!!!!!!!!!! the zuko casting eats and swolzai is so cool to see actually translated well (although we will see how they treat the characters in this)

HEYYYYYYOOOOO!

The only thing I’m really looking forward to from the live action is being able to gossip about it with my mutuals. I don’t really have any other opinion, I mean… it looks cool! (Sokkas hair & zukos scar bother me but ehhhh what can I do?) But I’m an animation junky, I love my anime and my cartoons (bobs burgers beloved) so I don't particularly care for the “real people actors” taking over my cartoons but I’m totally chill about it honestly.

I will ABSOLUTELY be watching it and probably will form a more solid opinion after I actually watch the show.

[emdotcom]

Tbh, can't believe I'm cutting ties with Fnaf before Batim.

[zenchii]

Can ONE thing i like longterm have a satisfying ending.

[gender-luster]

these three pieces of media are in my brain, holding hands and dancing and making out sloppy style

[justice4sasuke]

Sakura and Ino: literally only fight or talk about male characters

Meanwhile in One Piece:

[miscreantahead]

There's so much that's endlessly frustrating about engaging with One Piece and its fandom that just never stops. It's why I really would like to be able to turn my head to something less 1997 shounen and keep trying to leave. Not really because I can't deal with the sexist/transphobic/crazy age gap marriages aspects, but because I can't deal with the coping response to them being "blame individual characters for their uncriticized actions so we can pretend the text is otherwise fine" rather than "there is something continuously and fundamentally wrong with this text when it comes to these subjects that is evident in most characters and events and we just have to learn to navigate it to enjoy the things it brings to the table that are good."

Like if you don't have a solid grasp on what parts of the narrative are social criticisms from the author that he intentionally approached and what parts are him just having an aggressive 1990's straight man's outlook and moral compass about relationships/women/gender then I don't know what to tell you.

[nouearth]

“'TILL WE SEE STARS”

zane phillips, nico greetham, drew starkey, taylor zakhar perez, tom holland, and oliver stark x male reader.

𝐒𝐌𝐔𝐓— fic [ 14.7k ] 〳 part one

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒—male reader〳make sure to read part one!〳established relationship 〳 collage!au 〳jealous!zane 〳 sexual content: everyone is a top, bottom!reader, cum dumpster!reader, double penetration, gang bang, rough!sex, kissing, spitting, breeding, cumplay, bukkake, blowjobs, handjobs, praising, body worshipping, lots and lots of filthy sex!

You didn’t notice right away.

In your defense, Zane had always been exceptionally distracting, and that would only become harder to refute since you’d been something to him.

Rephrase that—someone.

Someone special, someone of importance, someone that meant something.

You’ve had doubts. Who wouldn’t when even your own friends looked at you with such bewilderment upon introducing him to the small group. Nerds and Jocks don’t mix; a childish verity you and your friends held with high regard since being hit in the face with a ball happened one too many times to brush those instances off as mere coincidences. That, and your snickering high school classmates would since provide you a whole new perspective on that matter.

But you went on to prove your friends wrong, prove that your doubts were meager tricks that only persisted to keep you from exploring out of your comfort zone—from living life to its fullest possibilities. The house that had once shielded you from all cruelties the world and its inhabitants brought with them began to crumble from its residence on a clifftop. Parts that made up the foundation sacrificed themselves in pursuit to bring you home. Wood, stone, red bricks; they catapulted into the ocean, swam on the surface, floated for air, and dived in the deep sea. Farther and farther, they searched for you, hopeful for any signs of life that signaled for your immediate rescue.

Instead, what they found was baffling.

It was you, but it wasn’t you at the same time. Something changed—this growing assurance in your disposition, holding onto a man, large and more than capable to protect, a threat to the house that had kept you safe since birth.

Betrayal, what happened to my son? My boy? My sweet boy?

You could hear the rage in their authoritative voice, but you’ve grown to realize their awful cadence had only been a tactic for you to come back—come back to them—to scare you into being the perfect boy they’ve raised you to be.

Every kiss from the man ignited a fire within you. He forged you with strength, with fortification, with affection—and you uttered a strong defiance, then watched the foundation disintegrate before your very eyes, piece by piece.

***

There was always so much care in Zane’s palms, yet he’d proven you to be exceptionally attentive when he was upset. Like he was trying to persuade you from deviating too far into his worries.

It was embarrassing to admit how long it took for you to piece it altogether—why he was often in a mood, or why he was adamant in making you stay the night at his apartment. You never pondered about it for too long as it never amounted to much. All it took was a night in his bed, watching his favorite shows, kissing and fondling to take his mind off of what was festering inside, and everything returned back to normal. A stressful day at work or practice, you’d reckon as you watched him sleep on your chest, his gentle snores beckoning you to your slumber.

But you began noticing a pattern. It happened every Thursday and Friday. You’d come to his place after tutoring, and he would greet you by the entrance with the most fulfilling kiss. Grappled by his arms around your waist, pulling you flush to his chest, and your lips raptured by his.

“Well, greetings to you too! I brought dinner.”

“That can wait… I missed you,” he would say before swooping you off your feet and fleeing with you into his bedroom.

At the least provocation, he’d proven all too willing to lick into your mouth and shove his greedy hands beneath your shirt. It was a growing tendency that you weren’t inclined to draw to a close because frankly—there was nothing to complain about, other than the cold takeout.

As observant as you usually were, you blamed yourself for not puzzling Zane’s growing possessiveness to your tutoring sooner.

Or maybe you were turning a blind eye, because you anticipated the magnificent nights he’d bestow on you. On those nights, Zane was especially keen to make you take all of him—every inch, every seed, every feeling.

“Swallow it all. I don’t want to see a drop left, baby.” “M-mmfngh—“

All in all, it was beginning to become clear that those days were bothering him. You could feel the tension in the air, the heaviness in your gut as Zane swelled inside of you for the second time of the night, two days in a row.

It was beyond the fact that you tutored—he was fine with that.

It was who you were tutoring.

On Thursdays, you could feel his delusional need to investigate who’d been in your mouth. Tom? Oliver? Taylor? He would suckle on your tongue until you reeled back for a breath, and even then, he wouldn’t stop licking into your mouth.

On Fridays, his hands wouldn’t leave your body. They covertly searched high and low, back to front, squeezing, pulling, roaming, pushing, for any marks, for any evidence of Nico’s presence, of Drew’s marks—but the only blemishes were Zane’s from the day before. A love bite to your neck, and another one to the left of your hip bone.

No one.

You both knew it was the truth—your loyalty to him, but Zane was a madman who was being fed with delusions beyond your control, and in turn, it gifted you the most passionate lover only you could’ve fantasized in novels.

“Oh, g-god. Right there. Don’t go faster, Zane. Don’t slow down. Just like that—“ “Yeah? You like my cock wrecking your pretty hole? Just. Like. That?”

***

“Would it make you feel better if you were with me?” you mentioned out of the blue, the show you two had been watching finally rolled the credits.

“Huh? What are you talking about?” Zane averted his gaze toward you, blindly reaching for the remote and switching the TV off. Then, he pulled you closer into his arms and pressed a kiss to the top of your head. His nose buzzed with delight at the scent of your shampoo.

“Well…” he watched you ponder—your gaze avoidant and wandering unlike the abrupt tension he felt in your body. He opened his arm out of concern, allowing you to properly gather yourself with the newfound space. You sat up and resumed explaining carefully, “I know you don’t like it when I’m… with your friends—alone. Embarrassingly enough, it just hit me—and… well, you seem off these days. And I think it’s because of that.”

It was like being caught in a lie. Not one of those major ones that Zane knew he would commit from beginning to end, but a white lie—a vaulted truth to spare your feelings, even if it meant that it was festering and poisoning him on the inside.

It was an unspoken promise. A natural response. A firm conviction that he should bear your troubles and worries in solitude.

After all, he was your boyfriend, your protector.

“What? Babe—no, what? Have I been acting different? I don’t know. I guess work’s gotten busier, so I guess that could explain…” He was teetering on the edge of revelation or secrecy, stammering until he was one step away from falling.

Zane was never a great liar.

“Come on. You can be honest. Is it because you don’t trust me? Because we study at the library and—“

“No, I absolutely trust you. Don’t say that.”

“I mean, it’s probably weird for me to be hanging out with them—in a way. It makes sense that you’d want to be there, so I get it if you feel hurt or disappointed or—“

“Babe, it’s not—“

“They’re your friends, not mine. I mean, I don’t think they see me as a friend anyway? I’m their tutor, and that’s how it should be…”

“(M/N), wait a second—“

Your hands were theatrical. Grandiose. If you had a symphony playing with you, they’d be performing with fervor, sweating until the grasp on their instruments had slipped at the nearing crescendo, and the audience would gasp altogether to fill the void of abrupt silence.

“I promise, Zane. All I do is give them assignments, like I did with you—well, not like I did with you. We were a little different, weren’t we… but with them? I-it’s like how I tutor everyone else and…!“

You suddenly stood up from the couch, clearly exasperated by the lack of words that could properly support your claims.

“Hey, hey…” he quelled you with a gentle tug to your hand, silently urging you back to his side with a consoling grin. You huffed, sucking in what he could presume to be more self-destructing words, and dramatically let the tension on your shoulders push your body onto his lap.

It wasn’t the right moment to notice, but would you kill him if he felt more inclined to annoy you in the future if this was how charming you always looked? The answer would probably be no. You had a tendency to forgive—a little too easily.

“Then what’s wrong? Is it my fault? Over-cooked your chicken? Ate your protein bar without asking? Got a stain on your hoodie, but I think I washed it out…?” Frowning, you stared back up at him through your eyelashes, chin sunken to your chest, and completely hopeless.

For a moment, he was speechless. It always took one glance from you for Zane to lose his train of thought. Even when you felt all kinds of emotions, there was still that glint in your eyes that never failed to make his heart feel like it was about to burst.

“Kinda is your fault. I mean, if you hadn’t been born with that handsome face of yours, or been blessed with brains and kindness, we wouldn’t be in this situation.”

“Be serious!” Zane felt your body tense up again. You were about to pull yourself off his lap before he rested a hand to your chest and gently pushed you back. “So, there is a problem…”

“It’s my problem, (M/N),” he began soothing your chest in small circles. The cotton soft in his palm before it was inevitably delighted with the firmness of your chest when he slipped a hand under your shirt, resuming his caress.

“I might not have a lot of experience in dating, but I’ve watched a lot of films to know that partners help each other when either one of them have a problem.”

Guilt was quickly catching up to him. Zane could feel its presence looming over his head. Like smog, heavy and thick, and even if it had waned into thin air—completely obliterated to the back of his mind—Zane was confident he would be suffering from the ramifications of it in the future.

“God… what am I going to do with you,” he dipped forward and buried his head into your body, using your shirt to muffle his conflicted groans.

It was those eyes of yours again. He couldn’t bear to face you with the secrets he’d been withholding, but he was already in this predicament. Ignoring it, even after being called out on his behavior, would just make things worse than if he would just tell you the truth.

He waited for seconds. Then seconds turned into minutes. Then those remaining minutes were spent sighing at the softest strokes you brushed through his hair, to occupy the silence, or to break the tension between you two. Either way, his heart felt heavier despite your comforting attempts.

With a mutter, Zane turned his head towards you and looked truthfully into your eyes, “Yeah, I’m jealous.”

You immediately perked up to join him at his side again, taking his hand into yours, “Zane, I promise—nothing happens…”

“No, I know, (M/N). I trust you. I mean, what can I say? I miss you. Our schedule isn’t aligning like I thought it would, and it feels like I’m seeing you less since you’ve taken Tom, Drew, Taylor… all of them for tutoring.”

“I can cut back? Maybe arrange the meetings to fit your schedule, and that way we can—“

“No, absolutely not. I’m not going to be that type of boyfriend.”

“Well, I can’t just sit here and watch you suffer.” Zane watched you play with his fingers, clamping your hand to his, then unclasping as his thoughts prolonged another silence.

“You have no idea, (M/N). I… God, it’s all fucked up.” He rubbed his face to comfort himself, groaning into his palms before taking your hands into his again.

Nothing calmed him more than simply holding you.

“What? It’s just about us not spending enough time together, right? Maybe I’m too optimistic, but that seems like something that can be easily resolved…”

“No—I mean, yes. That’s the problem, but it isn’t the main problem…”

“Then… what is?”

From the corner of his eye, he watched you physically brace yourself, straightening your posture like the suspense had been literally killing you and your insides. You took one deep exhale, preparing yourself for the worst while Zane fished for his phone, and scrolled through his messages.

He began explaining.

Taking tutoring lessons was the last thing on the team’s mind. For Zane and Nico, it was a simple affair. Their grades were dropping like flies, and their coach didn’t like the sight of that, or the consequences that would follow. If they didn’t take their grades seriously, how could Coach trust them to lead the team? How can they lead the team with discipline—if they severely lacked it themselves? Zane was warned of this predicament for multiple semesters, and it was only recently when he began taking it seriously.

He’d never received a letter from his coach before, and as laughably traditional as it was, he’ll forever remember the sinking feeling in his chest when he read the last paragraph of his coach’s handwriting:

Fix your grades by the end of the semester, or you’re out. No more second chances. You’re great, but not that great for me to put your future in jeopardy. Sorry, I should’ve been harder on you.

Without much arguing, he did as he was told. Week by week, month by month, Zane and Nico’s grades improved tremendously, and the threat of being kicked off the wrestling team was delayed for another semester. However, as much as the guys were impressed by their success, Zane couldn’t owe the credit to solely himself. You were a major part of his triumphant journey, and the team would since become greatly fond of you and your saving contributions to the group.

Maybe it was inspiring to watch Zane and Nico dig themselves out of a rut, an underdog story that everyone loved rooting for in the movies. Or maybe it was some kind of unspoken brotherhood, where if one was struggling, then the other would join them in their agony to establish some type of rapport. Because soon after, Zane’s teammates found themselves in an awfully similar situation to him and solicited your service.

But Zane knew his teammates.

Zane knew that this decision was completely out of left field. Taylor, Tom, Drew, Oliver; it was strange to see all of them suddenly feel the need to seek out a tutor—specifically you out of all the available people—to help them with their studies.

It was odd to listen to them complain that their grades had been dropping, apparently lower and lower with every passing week.

And again, Zane knew his teammates.

He spent every waking second with them since they’d met each other as freshmen; aligned every course with the guys so he’d come into class knowing at least one person; visited each other’s house on semester breaks because why the hell not—it was on the drive home. For god’s sake, all of their parents knew the team by government name, siblings if they had any, and even their own aspirations in life.

They were teammates, but they were also best friends.

So, Zane had every right to call this entire arrangement as bullshit.

They weren’t struggling with their grades. Tom and Taylor were honor students. Oliver was a teaching assistant. Drew was interning for a marketing firm that made Zane’s eyes hurt when he snooped through Drew’s emails, and looked at the qualifications for the rather imposing position.

Bullshit, bullshit, bullshit.

They were fucking with him.

Or to better clarify—trying to fuck with you.

Trying to fuck you.

It was Zane’s fault. He wasn’t clear that he was actually serious about his relationship with you, and that unlike his previous relations, there was no sharing with the team. All hands were off—should be off—and the only ones you’d be holding were Zane’s.

No.

That didn’t sound right.

It was their fault. It had to be their fault. They were the ones talking about you like they had never seen a pretty boy in their life, like they had never seen a man sharing this dreadful place we call Earth. A man with those pretty eyes, smiling with that pretty mouth, frowning with those pretty cheeks, typing with those pretty hands—the team would practically brand you as theirs with every session they’d return from studying with you, and they boasted about it all to Zane’s face.

Maybe it was his fault after all.

Zane loved bragging about you. It wasn’t something he often did with his previous partners, but something about you changed him. Zane loved showing your selfies off to his friends. One day he’d marvel how soft your lips were, the next he’d go on a tangent about what an incredibly kind person you were for finding someone’s lost dog. It was all arbitrary. As long as it was framed around you, the topics bounced from your looks to your body to your personality, and to his surprise, his friends would chime in too.

Increasingly more, as they would get to know you following every meeting.

The worst part was that Zane allowed it to happen and found himself encouraging this behavior he was scrutinizing. The group chat was complete evidence of his participation, and with every message, he could physically feel the jury slipping out of his favor.

Drew: I shouldn’t have doubted you, Zane. There’s something about your boy’s eyes…

Tom: Oh god. Does he always look at you like that, Zane? I don’t know how you can handle it. I have to physically hold my crotch to keep myself from coming in my pants.

Taylor: Can we talk about his lips, though? They’re so plump. I couldn’t help but stare at them. He does that cute thing where he chews on his lip when he’s grading.

Oliver: I wonder what he does when his mouth is filled. Zane? Care to give us a hint, please? Or shall we give him a visit and demo for ourselves…?

Zane: Hm, I’ll just say that… (M/N)’s learning very quickly on how to breathe through his nose and relax his throat. Though, that doesn’t stop the noises from coming out of his mouth.

Nico: Always had a thing for nerds… He suck you off with his glasses on or no?

Zane: On.

Drew: Oh, c’mon…

Taylor: Shit. I’m getting hard.

Tom: Fuck. Me too.

Nico: Lucky bastard… It should’ve been me!

Oliver: Never mind. This is so much better than what I could’ve imagined.

Zane laid it all out onto the table for you. His phone was a bar of gold in your hand as you scrolled and read through the messages pertaining you between him and his friends. The more recent the texts were, the more explicit and brazen.

Taylor talked about a dream that he had of you, where you allowed him to kiss you wherever he pleased if he got a question right. This was as innocent it would get. His hand would be shoved into your pants while he would kiss at your neck, licking into your whimpers.

Tom texted about the random hard-ons he’d sport when he was with you. Something as simple as watching you lick your lips was enough to get him off for the night.

Drew daydreamed about you giving him a hand job in the library. The rush of being nearly caught, and the flood of embarrassment blooming on your neck and face resulted him coming within your fist. You’d hover your free hand beneath his cock, to catch the flood of cum, because you were a kind person who didn’t want to make a public mess. And because you were such a kind person, you’d slurp his cum off your palm, right then and there, before Drew’s very eyes.

Nico was the most yearning. Perhaps it was because he always played second fiddle to Zane’s leadership, and that reflected onto his fantasies, but he missed hearing your praises. Praises that consisted of how good he was at solving this problem; how proud you were when he went out of his way to do more problems than what was assigned to him; how nice he felt when he pushed his warm cock inside of you for the first time. You’d overwhelm him with so many compliments, so many kind words, that it wouldn’t take much for him to come inside of you.

Oliver was a brazen man. He spoke without thought, without a filter, and if it came to Zane’s decision, he would want to publish a book full of Oliver’s lewd fantasies about you. He wanted to fuck you. Point blank period. It wasn’t up for debate. He would make you take him in the car if he could. Bent over the backseat, while he pounded into you out in the parking lot, or maybe in the woods if you preferred seclusion. And when he was done with you, he’d leave you there dripping, inhaling another smoke to work up another appetite, as if the image of his cum leaking out of you and down your legs hadn’t strung up his cock like a puppet with every passing second.

“It’s a lot, I know,” Zane’s voice broke you from the spell that was his friends’ fantasies. You blinked rapidly to ward off the explicit images festering. He was reading them with you, the illusions silently feeding you and him simultaneously. “Listen, if you want to call it quits, I understand. But I just—I love… seeing them talk about you like that. It makes me… so proud. Powerful—knowing that they can’t ever lay their hands on you, as long as I’m in the picture.”

“But… you said you were jealous? I don’t understand—” You fidgeted uncomfortably against him. Zane took no mind to it, especially since you seem to be taking the information better than he’d thought, but your constant squirming was beginning to be a cause of concern. He blindly opened his arm for you, allowing you to snuggle into his side.

“Yeah, well… I guess riling your friends up and feeding into their fantasies has some consequences. I like it when they talk about you to me, but… I don’t know, I guess I imagine what they would do to you if you were alone with them and it makes me worried, yet aroused? It’s… confusing, I know. I don’t get it either—Babe, are you okay? You keep moving.“

“No, continue—it’s just—“ you groaned, pressing closer to his side and crossing your legs. “Is that why you’ve been extra affectionate? I mean, you always have been, but I swear, I think we have sex almost every day—or is that normal? Not that I don’t love it. I don’t want you to get tired of me or something.”

“First off, never going to happen. I could never get tired of you. And… it might be normal depending on who you’re asking… Might be our new normal, if I’m being honest. I can’t help that you’re so irresistible—okay, what’s going on—” For a couple more seconds, Zane endured you fiddling with the blanket on your lap before suddenly tugging it off and freeing you of your agony, or whatever was the reason of your constant writhing.

He glanced down at your lap, and your reflex was quick to hide it—whatever was near your pelvis. It was hard seeing you in the dark with the TV and his phone switched off. The moonlight filtered through the blinds on his windows, but it was only enough to highlight parts of your face, not enough to illuminate the entire living room.

Without a warning, Zane reached in between your thighs and frisked whatever that had come into contact with his palm. He raised an eyebrow at the sudden hitch of your breath, feeling nothing but the leather of the couch in his palm—until he moved it higher, toward your lack of an attempt at shielding, and pushed your hand aside.

“Oh,” it didn’t take long to guess what was in the palm of his hand. He could trace the shape of it in his sleep if he was asked to. Write the exact measurements as he recalled numerous nights with you if he was quizzed on it, even if majority of his calculations relied on his grip.

Zane knew you very well, and he especially knew what he was squeezing—gently kneading until those familiar sounds poured out of you like freshly squeezed orange juice.

Ah, there it was.

It was his boy’s cock.

“Don’t get mad—“ you warned, pausing Zane’s kneads with a gentle grasp, but he persisted, only challenging the tightness in your shorts in the end.

“Why would I be mad? You’re not mad?” his voice traveled ticklishly to your ear. He’d pulled you closer, whispering while his hand was all synonyms of tantalizing.

“Is it wrong to say that I’m not? Is this was what you felt like…? I’m confused and horny, and it’s all a mess, Zane…” you groaned when his hand into the leg opening, eagerly reaching for your stiff arousal.

“God, sorry—let’s just… talk about this later. Fuck, come on.”

“Y-yeah, good idea.”

***

“They never heard yours.”

It was cool and lulling—the baby wipe Zane was cleaning you down with. Just when you thought Zane couldn’t have gotten more attractive, the concentrated look on his face while he wiped the sweat and sticky residue off your torso made your flaccid cock twitch, his biceps bulging like they were still strenuous from holding you against the wall a few minutes prior.

Zane raised a curious brow at your vagueness and your renewed arousal altogether before chucking the wipes in a bin and tucking himself to your side. “What do you mean?”

At the advance of his arms around your waist, you turned in your position to face him, pulling him close by the hips. “Your fantasy. They all told you about theirs, but you never did. Just makes me curious… on what yours is?”

Zane pondered, his thumb pondering with him as it chased after an internal beat, a rhythm over your lower back. In the meantime, you surveyed his face, like you always did post-sex. His moles were attractive, his eyebrows and lips deliciously full, and his eyes—beautiful windows to his beautiful soul.

You were the luckiest man on earth.

“You can’t judge me, all right?”

He jolted you back from your studying, an uncertain air emanating from his disposition.

You took his cheek in your hand and squeezed him with assertion. “I would never!”

Your constant kneading made him loosen up. He exhaled deep, looking dubious, but compiled trust into your eyes in the end—because it was just a fantasy, right?

One.

BIg.

Fucking.

Dream.

Finally, Zane confessed.

“Gangbang…”

“Oh…!”

***

Zane didn’t know what to expect. He had to admit that you looked uneasy when he brought up the topic of having a safe word. As basic as it was, the traffic light system was ideal as vanilla as it was, especially for something as daunting as someone’s first gangbang.

Plus, you were getting a little too creative with the safe words.

“What about… peanut butter cup..?” “Eh… think that’s a little too long, babe.” “Ghost!” “You might freak Tom out. He apparently had an ‘apparition’ back at his grandma’s house.” “Sheep?” “Sounds like ‘shit,’ which can be misconstrued as “shit, keep fucking me!"” “Hm… pickle?” “Gross! You know I hate pickles!” “You don’t eat words, Zane!”

As hopeful and convincing Zane could be, the last thing he would’ve thought was you agreeing to this—without much hesitation too, might he add.

“Can you move okay?” Zane stepped aside for you to walk from one end of his bedroom to the other. It wasn’t much distance, but it wasn’t like you needed an ample amount of space to begin with.

You took the open floor to demonstrate your ability to walk. It seemed simple enough. You did it every day. One foot after the other, step by step, leisurely and calmly and—

“Oh—“ you stiffened after the first step and froze in place. One leg methodically moved back and forth to gauge the restrictive mobility. “It feels a little… tight?”

“We can go a size smaller, but it should be a little uncomfortable. Plus, you’re not going to be walking much? Hopefully…” Zane calmly reasoned, maneuvering you like a mannequin. His hand was searching high and low for any physical indications that a butt plug was lodged inside of you—pressing when the flange toy protruded a centimeter more than he had liked.

Your breath hitched and then you shook your head, deciding the size was adequate adequate enough, and resumed walking normally. One couldn’t have noticed any oddities, as long as they ignored the rigidness of your posture.

The feeling came out of the blue—you wanted to impress them. After all, you were the star of the night. Zane’s confession had been simmering in your thoughts for a few days, especially one comment when he described how powerful he felt knowing his friends wanted you, but couldn’t have you.

You wanted to make Zane proud. If the humblest of all brags turned his friends into complete brutes, you couldn’t imagine how they would act when they all have had a turn to explore your body inside and out, and never again. Dogs. Monsters. Yet they’d worship every sovereign step that Zane would take like they were indebted to his graciousness, like they were his men of labor, all for one more night with you again.

You wanted more than to make Zane proud. You wanted to make him feel like a king.

Three knocks at the door, and the long-awaited fantasy was a door away from becoming a reality. You tailed stiffly after Zane, the kiss he quickly granted you before jogging to the entrance like a spell to your pursuit—like a hex to the tension Zane knew all-so-well.

Zane looked back once more, a nod of assurance padded by a bright smile, and you exhaled out the tightness in your chest.

Let the party begin.

***

“Let’s make it… easier for you, babe. Warm you up instead of abruptly starting?”

“Yeah—that sounds fine to me.”

“You’ll spin the bottle, and whoever it lands on can initiate the first step. No more than a minute. Then, you’ll spin the bottle again—second person goes, so-on and so-on. Sound good? More organized that way, right? And you can get a feel of everyone’s… vibes without it being overwhelming. Fellas? Any objections?”

“Sounds good to me, Zane.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Yeap.”

“Mm-hm.”

“No complaints here.”

The slower the bottle spun, the faster your heart beat. Your eyes moved from one man to the next, as if you were the empty beer bottle itself. The group formed a circle in the middle of the living room, small but enough to accommodate for seven men: You, Zane, Taylor, Oliver, Nico, Tom, and Drew; in that order of the circumference. Other than the guys catching up with you—small talk about your tutoring, their assignments, dinner, new dogs, and whatnot—conversations were kept to a minimum.

All seven of you knew why you were here altogether, and they weren’t keen on drawing it out for any longer.

“You guys just came back from the gym?” Zane asked after taking a sip of his beer. You reached for his bottle, feeling parched, and he passed it to you with a composing grin, lingering to watch your expression sour as the bubbles tickled your throat.

“Yeah—was going to hit the showers, but then we would’ve been late,” Taylor explained, and the rest of the guys nodded in between sips of their beers, comically attentive to the slowing bottle. You took a silent whiff of the heavy musk radiating off of the five men; your dick twitched.

“Oh shit, who’s it gonna be?! First stud of the night!” Tom bowed his body forward and began drumming the floor in faux suspense. You laughed and joined in on the increasing drum rolls, the others including yourself finding his anticipation infectious as laughter spread amongst the group like a virus—the seven pairs of hands drumming on the floor altogether being part of the symptom.

There was nothing to be worried about, was there?

This was going to be fun.

A blast.

A bang.

The bottle slowed, passing pairs of bare feet in its rotation. Multiple postures straightened as if they could compel gravity to direct the bottle towards them, but then Drew’s slumped when it passed him, then Taylor’s, and a domino effect of lost hope was rippled—all except for one.

A chorus of oohs broke out when it stopped on Nico—Zane’s right-hand man. It must’ve been an inside joke between all six of them because Oliver made a comment about how Nico was finally having his moment, and they all erupted into another fit of laughter, cutting the tension in the air one chuckle at a time.

“You’re up!” Zane beckoned with a nod. You took another glance at him, nothing of concern, but rather to alleviate his own worries by the way he suddenly gathered his hold on your hand, and then pecked him on the lips and cheek. He smiled, returning the peck onto your lips before whispering into your ear, “Show ‘em what a lucky man I am.”

“Whew, all right..!” Nico propped himself up with a hop.

Nico made his way towards you and pulled you to the middle of the circle. Even knowing that you read his messages, he still carried that dashing smile like it was a weapon. One that regularly caused destruction on many hearts, one that charged your own like it was a battery—you just now discovered how disruptive dimples could be.

He was a sly man. Two-faced even, and you anticipated to discover this other side of him that he’d been reluctant to show.

“Hi—again,” Nico whispered through a smile. You found it charming how he couldn’t contain his glee. Dimple to dimple, they were like two separate smiles of their own, bracketing the salient beam from widening any further.

You wanted to peek over at Zane when Nico pressed his nose to yours, taunting himself—taunting you with the suspense of his soft-looking lips. But Nico’s hand on your nape was absolute and refusing, holding you like you were a weakening star—his dying wish, and made you fix his eyes on him, as he had done for you all this time. “Sorry you had to find out this way, but… I have a crush on you.”

“No—it’s fine. It’s why we’re here, right?” You braced one hand over Nico’s lap and the other on his broad chest. Sturdy, well-defined muscles graced your palm with every caress.

“Yeah… what a way to reciprocate my feelings…”

Slowly, you felt Nico’s breath warm your lips before they were taken hostage by his pair of reds, mirroring the close of his eyes upon noticing. The room fell to a silence, watching like hawks, closing in between the two bodies for front seating of the kiss.

He started gentle; soft lips moving against softer lips, careful to avoid hitting your glasses, your gasps and his groans filling your mouth with fulfillment. One hand of Nico’s maintained on your nape while the other rested on the small of your back, to pull you closer, to feel the skin hidden beneath polycotton. His hand was warm as he roamed; big as he held at nothing but something all at once; inquisitive as his fingers would occasionally dip into the waistband of your shorts.

The longer it goes on, the harder the kiss was. Nico’s mouth was illusive, now hard and abrasive to train your mouth open, and then stay open as he licked into your mouth and explored with his curious tongue. Your ears perked at an envious comment from one of the guys, but it was quickly hushed following the sound of your moans. Nico wrapped his mouth around your tongue and sucked with ardency, mining any possible sounds out of you like they were Earth’s greatest treasure. Your tongue reeled back in growing desire to tick a kink off of Nico’s bucket list, smooching a few more times on the lips, holding his cheek, and then whispering into his warm mouth with a bated breath as his hand halted its lone venture up the opening of your shorts.

“You’re a great kisser, Nico…”

“Time!”

A timer sang from your side, and a web of spit tailed your lips as you pulled away, letting your gaze linger to catch Nico’s heightened arousal in his eyes before returning to your seat.

“Fuck..,” chuckles spread from man to man when Nico returned, exhaling and shaking all sorts of trembles out of his body. Oliver and Tom aided with hard smacks to Nico’s back, sharing the thrill of the kiss simultaneously.

“Was that okay?” You whispered to Zane, fixing your glasses while the rest of the guys debriefed on Nico’s fulfillment. A collection of comments such as, “I’m fucking jealous…”, “Did you see the way he looked at you? Fucking sexy…”, “God, I hope it’s me next,” made you squirm in your seat.

Your mission from all of this was to make Zane proud, but it wouldn’t hurt if you gifted yourself a slight ego-boost in the meantime, right?

“You did… fucking perfect. I think you’re riling them up—riling me up too, actually,” he muttered, briefly maneuvering your hand to demo the boner in his shorts before returning back to his duties as the host. “Okay, settle down! Babe? Next spin, please? Think the team’s getting a little antsy.”

You surveyed the room again. Nico was subtly pushing down on his crotch while Drew, Tom, and Oliver were casual about it, openly massaging themselves through their shorts, their eyes wandering towards you with repose. If you hadn’t had the decency to look away, you could’ve indulged in their thick prints for a little longer.

But duty called. You reached for the bottle and spun it, bating the men with the suspense of who was going to be next in line in warming you up.

The crown of the bottle stopped parallel to Taylor, who was slouched on his elbows like he’d been expecting it—rigged it with his mind if telekinesis was more than hypothetical. He greeted you with provocation, flashing his brows and a smug smile all at once, then a wink, before joining you in the middle. You always found him intimidating. It was probably those eyelashes of his. They were always fluttering, even when you would go over his notes—he would blink and stare once knowing it was effective enough to render you speechless. As naive as it sounded—it felt like Taylor was adept to anything and everything, including whatever he was about to do to you.

And you were absolutely correct in that hypothesis—because Taylor immediately began stripping you down. It was inevitable, but you didn’t expect all of you to be bared within the second spin.

“Seems like Taylor’s on a mission.” Oliver laughed, catching your briefs and taking a whiff at it before passing it to the group. One by one, you watched each person press their nose to the center of your briefs, and inhale. Comments on the smell of your arousal made your dick twitch again. Harder, when Drew and Oliver engrossed themselves in the fine stain of pre-cum and took multiple lingering whiffs in hounding the sweet musk again. You’d think you laced them with some kind of potion—an elixir that amplified their excitement through every vein in their body, from hands to cock.

From head to toe, your clothes came off and were tossed aside, and you let Taylor’s spirit of inquiry explored as he pleased. Sprawling your arms and legs out like he was frisking you, smacking the back of your thighs like he was a butcher examining the quality of fresh meat. You groaned when he loitered at your naked body, noticing the constellation of goosebumps on your chest to the dimples on your backside—all with a glaze of his hand. Taylor’s fingers followed every contour of your body—from spine to muscle—studying you and the smallest reactions you’d spare him with pleased eyes as he smacked, kissed, smoothed, and licked the canvas that was made of skin and bone. You were a sculpture carved by the Renaissance, and Taylor was a curator, assessing your value through the warmth of his mouth, the slick of his tongue, and the kneads of his hands.

“Oh, what do we have here?” His mouth was on your stomach, closely tending to the warm skin with kisses, while his hand was on your rump, prodding at the plug that had been confined in you for the entirety of the day. “Guys, jackpot. (M/N) came with a surprise.”

“I-it wasn’t my idea—“ Heat rose high to your neck when Taylor turned you around and showed your ass off to the ogling group of men. While he was at it, he mind as well brand you with a price tag—right on your ass cheeks, where Taylor smacked each side once, massaging them with a firm knead, and spread you open.

“Holy shit…” Tom muttered while he stood on his knees, taking in the sight of your plugged hole. You impulsively squeezed your thighs together, covering your growing erection at the marveling shared between the six men. There was a wonder in Zane’s expression, resembling the first time he undressed you before his very eyes.

“You like teasing us, don’t you?” Drew said when your glutes tensed, and the room hummed with the soft susurrus of agreement. “Pretty thick ass too, jesus—“

“Time,” Zane stopped the alarm after a ring, sighing in between kneads to his bulge.

Five of the guys collectively groaned from the cliff-hanger while Taylor gave your hard ass a smack in midst of returning to his seat. “See how considerate I can be? You’re welcome, fellas!”

You jolted, gulping at the budding sting. It was becoming a habit to seek for Zane’s approval after every turn, and fortunately you did—because unbeknownst to Taylor, Zane was staring him down, a furious and annoyed look on his face that quickly simmered when he caught your gaze.

“Spin, please.”

The next stop was Tom—Eager Tom. He’d been making comments on your body since he stepped foot inside the apartment, so it was expected that his turn would be based on personal whims. Although, you reckoned that the plug inside of you turned the tides.

Making you kneel on all fours, Tom slowly twisted the plug in and out of you while the group gathered from behind and intimately watched. You clenched at the base, stifling your groans into the back of your hand upon the group’s growing fascination with the sight of your swelling pucker.

“Fuck, look at that pretty rim…” Oliver mumbled, and Tom took it as a hint to trace the border of your hole with his finger, lone yet devious.

“If it looks that appetizing, imagine how it tastes,” Drew covertly suggested.

Tom hummed in thought while toying thoughtlessly with your hole—into your hole. “Not much of an ass-eater, maybe I should hand that task off to someone more capable… What do you think, (M/N)?”

“P-please… anyone is fine—”

As the tip neared its exit, you desperately held onto the last bit of latex that kept you from baring it all—thighs vibrating from the difficulty, toes curling as Tom screwed—but your muscles were as weak as Tom’s patience, and you naturally gave into his tortuous wrenching, clamming up him when he suddenly plunged the plug back into you, then completely bloomed—when Tom finished you off with a tyrannical yank.

“O-oh, god!” You yelped loud as you bared yourself for the group. Deep waves of heat trampled over your body and swam into every course of vein as one person after the other, from Tom to Drew to Nico to Oliver to Taylor to Zane, moaned in chorus at the sight of your budding insides.

Your chest laid flat on the floor, your glasses tossed and forgotten, your hips and ass raised high, your cock throbbed towards the floor—you suddenly buckled your hips when you felt a wad of spit launched directly at your blinking hole.

Then another, and another, and then three consecutive more, until your hole felt completely, and utterly drenched—one from every man you presumed as you laid there, writhing and dripping.

“Fuck, so pretty when it’s glistening like that,” Tom groaned. You could hear fabrics moving, see clothes coming off when you peeked from your position, and your cock throbbed at the smallest glimpse of Tom’s naked body, followed by Oliver’s, and then so on.

“Time,” Zane said again, then a second later rescinded his announcement, rubbing an affectionate hand over your back for you to look up. “Actually, fuck this—baby, you’re okay with us starting now? I don’t think we can handle it anymore… yeah?”

“Y-yeah, no—I can’t wait any longer—oh!” Suddenly, you felt something wet breach your hole. Unrelenting in its expedition as it flicked and wiggled the group’s load of spit inside of you, sliming you up from inside and out.

“Sorry, (M/N). Drew hasn’t had dinner yet—come on, up and at ‘em,” Oliver steered you back on all fours with a rough pull to your shoulders, and knelt himself before you. He pushed your hair back once, admiring the sweat beading over your hairline, the increasingly dismayed look on your face when someone—Taylor—spread and smacked your ass apart for Drew to lick and devour inside you completely. “And neither have you. Open.” You couldn’t even hesitate as Oliver worked at lighting pace. He hooked his thumb into your mouth, pulled it open, spat a thick load of spit where your tongue deftly caught it, and pushed his thick cock into your mouth—all in one neck-braking motion.

“Fuck…” Oliver moaned at the warmth of your mouth. His eyes rolled, but the sight of your lips wrapped around his veiny dick was holier than the overhead lights spotlighting you from above, so he did his best to maintain his composure, working your mouth open with the girth of his cock—slow and steady.

At least Oliver was generous enough to not shove himself down the back of your throat, but still—your throat spasmed nonetheless when he shoved himself deeper with a tug to your nape. Upon the hit to your throat, you abruptly pushed him out with your tongue and a gag, launching into a coughing fit.

“Loosen up on him, will you? He bruises easily,” Zane muttered, noticing Oliver’s fingers turning eggshell-white upon taking your name in his hand. Although, that didn’t stop Zane’s hand from fisting his cock. If anything, it pulsed merrily at the sound of your throat resisting.

“He’ll use his safe words, right? You’re fine? Tell me if you need a break,” As much as Oliver was large and imposing, his body a thick and study mass akin to Zane’s, his eyes were made of sugar. An uncanny color for those soluble carbohydrates, but it was fitting, considering your body melted from the way he looked fondly at you and petted at your cheek. “Pretty.”

“I-I’m fine…” You said with a bated breath and nodded to Oliver with assurance. Then again, when Zane’s hand pushed your hair back and remained on the crown of your head. “I’m fine. Promise.”

“I know. I trust you.” He bent down to soothe the swell of your lips with a lingering kiss before delivering a smack to your ass and pulling away with a renewed disposition. “Suck his cock like how you suck mine. Properly, this time.”

“Fuck—“ Your body propelled forward from the never-ending feast on your puckering hole. Out of curiosity, you peered over your shoulder and instantly found yourself regretting it. It was unavoidable. Your cock leaking in agony, watching Nico, Taylor, and Drew take turns at licking stripes over your hole. Hungry animals.

On Drew’s turn, he caught your gaze in midst of his licks and came to a sudden halt. He then widened his tongue over your crack and with a leaden pace, laved his tongue over your crease like he was cleaning the last bit of crumbs off his plate, smug and teasing in his scheme to make you break.

“No more distractions, yeah? That’s not the way you treat your boyfriend’s friends.” A grappling hook to your nape tore your eyes back to your front, and your mouth was instantly filled again with the heavy weight of Oliver’s musky cock. Your hands were braced on the floor, clutching at nothing but the installed security of wood panels, as Oliver rocked into your mouth. Your cheeks hallowed progressively, adapting to the stretch of your mouth when he tested the depth of your throat numerous times before finally committing and sinking his cock into the back of your mouth, into your throat, with one gratified push.

“Good boy. Hold it, hold it, don’t move. Just relax…” Zane heartened by your right side, reaching in between your legs and fondling with your cock as he’d been doing with his own. Upon the welling of tears, you clamped your eyes shut for comfort, and nearly choked back on your own spit, impulsively squeezing around Oliver’s cock.

“Oh, shit… holy fuck, guys.” Tom was marveling at your left. You peeked your eyes open and caught a glimpse of his hand spit-shining his long, veiny cock, twisting deliciously eager over his plump glans near your temple, the sticky sound of his spit loud and clear in your ear. “Jesus, Zane wasn’t lying when he said you could take dick like no other.”

Oliver’s balls were pressed flush to your chin, your mouth was stuffed into the unshaven hairs of his pubic area, your nostrils was flared from arousal at the salty scent of the dried sweat within vicinity, and your throat was plugged with a glorious amount of thick and heavy cock.

“There we go, that’s it. Good,” Oliver moaned, tenderly massaging your nape while cutting off the supply of oxygen at the same time. “You’re a good boy, aren’t you? Doing everything we want, huh?”

“Mmfgh!” Your moans muffled in the cramming of his swollen cock as Oliver began patting and squeezing your cheeks, tightening the suction of your mouth by curling his body overhead, and simply pushing deeper.

Swelling harder, throbbing, the longer you endured. You’d learned how to breathe through your nose when it came down to this, but you still had difficulties relaxing your tongue. It wasn’t surprising when ample amounts of saliva began leaking out of your mouth. More spilled out when Oliver pulled you back a centimeter, only for the course of action to halt with another plunge of his cock, somehow sinking deeper down your throat.

“Think he can fit another one?” Nico halfheartedly joked, the last one to crawl over and join the group in their sight-seeing. His cock was hard, veins bulging in a way that made you delirious because Oliver alone was enough to make you overwhelmed in the best way possible.

You couldn’t possibly imagine another cock lodged in.

“Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it, right, babe?” Zane tugged on your cock harder. He pulled at your balls, thumbed the piss-slit, and stroked your shaft with the pre-cum that had been dripping in solitude. “So wet, you’re so fucking wet from being used like this.”

Finally, you were graced with the precious taste of air. Oliver slowly pulled his dick from the depth of your throat, and the group moaned at the sight of your throat simultaneously deflating from its bulge.

Your throat was sore, but it was worth it. Moving your eyes from one man to another, it was finally registering what a dream this was. All of them were exceptionally fit with sweat proudly highlighting their training. All of them sported deliciously thick erections with multiple sights of pre-cum dripping like molasses to taunt you. What was more important was that all of their eyes were on you—something as minuscular as a blink would set them off, and they’d restart the non-existent staring battle between you and the group again.

They were as breathless as you were, and your heart was pumping with the sickening volume of their cocks being cordially stroked, their pecs and biceps brawny and bouncing from the exhilaration you’d been supplying them.

It was fucking worth it.

Under Zane’s conducting, the team flipped you onto your back, cushioning your body with multiple throw pillows, and surrounded themselves around you again, where you could properly watch them pleasure their cocks with the lube Zane had distributed as they kneeled over you. Then, Taylor made the decision for himself to slot his body beneath you, embracing you from behind and using his arms around you to hold your legs and hips back, positioning his freshly lubed cock near your hole.

“You smell good,” Taylor commented at the scent of your cologne, kissing madly into your neck as he found the source. You gulped, feeling him staring again through those eyelashes of his. With one hand, he turned your cheek to face him, his lips nearing and over yours, but never meeting. Lingering, breathing, gazing, indulging—you both surveyed each other’s features. Watching your soft but swollen lips, watching his sharp but pleading eyes. He pushed himself in without as much of a warning—and then watched the enlightened expression on his face, the immense rapturing of yours. For a moment, you swore you could’ve seen something other than lust in Taylor’s eyes, but he punctuated the delusions straight out of you with an unbearable thrust, and you never looked back. You gasped at the girth of his cock stretching you out, and his breath hitched at the spontaneous clenching your tight hole was bestowing him. “Fuck…”

You breathed out a whimper, and your parted mouth was immediately seized with the taste of Tom’s thick cock as he kneeled over your body and thrusted himself selfishly down your throat. Deeper, when Tom found your gags to be indecently enticing and feeding into his cock veins.

To make everything all the more dizzying, your hands were taken and wrapped around a pair of throbbing cocks; Zane and Nico’s in your left, Drew and Oliver in your right. Every contact point on your body, from Taylor’s dick pressing deep inside of you, to Tom’s succulent cock bulging your cheek, to Zane, Nico, Oliver, and Drew rubbing against their respective partner and fucking into your closed fist, burned.

“You love being full of cock, don’t you? Look at you… pleasuring the six of us at once. Come on, use your mouth. Suck Tom off, you can do it,” Taylor mouthed at your shoulder, the warmth of his breath tickling you, and then a complimentary bite to your shoulder—making your pulse run high. His grasp on the back of your raised thighs was warring as he used his core to beat his thick cock inside of you and pummel you open.

You cried around Tom’s cock, Taylor’s balls slapping your taint with every exhilarating thrust and feeding into your indulgence. Tom was noble. You already had enough on your plate; stroking two thick cocks per hand and enduring Taylor’s aggressive fucks. The intricate position you were in made it more difficult for you to suck him off, so Tom took matters into his own hands, and used your mouth as he pleased. His hands were behind his head as if they could stabilize the swimming lewd thoughts. You peeked at the utter state of bliss he was in, and your cock throbbed at the sight of his body. His chest full, his pits trimmed, his built expertly trimmed with fine and intricate muscles, especially so whenever he sunk in his stomach and flexed from the heat of your throat. You were salivating not only because the taste of Tom’s cock was so delightfully salty, but also because you were surrounded by such gorgeous men—a heaven of greek gods.

You felt reborn.

The kiss is all-consuming when Tom pulled himself out to press his lips against yours, making you sit up on Taylor’s lap. When his tongue pried your mouth open effortlessly, electricity shot down your spine, only for it to sear back up with the vicious pounding Taylor was giving you. “You taste like my dick, you like that?” Tom inhaled every ounce of breath you dispelled into his mouth. Broken sounds of whimpers and moans, a confusing yet compatible elixir that Tom drank up, and poured it back down your throat when he licked deeper into your mouth. He licked and nipped at your lips, tangled your tongue with his, and stole your breath with the eagerness of his mouth on yours that hadn’t seem to be faltering.

Heat flushed through your veins when each person took a turn to your mouth. The straddling position allowed the group to enclose themselves around you, the air thickening and weighing heavier than the swing of their cocks. Five heavy dicks surrounded your face while Taylor’s continued to swell beneath you, turning you inside and out as his hands on your hips hardened. It was an insoluble dilemma of your sexual appetite. You were starving for something to fill your mouth, but who—was the dilemma you were faced with.

“So big, fuck—“ You caught yourself drooling at the sight of their cocks dripping for you.

You behaved like a wanton, catching Oliver’s pre-cum with your tongue before sucking hard on Zane’s cock, then simultaneously stroking Drew and Nico over your shoulders ardently. The smell of Tom’s and Oliver’s salty cocks rubbing over your face made you vigilant and heightened your arousal to a crescendo. Eagerly, you replaced Zane’s cock with the two men, and moaned when the uncomfortable stretch they had provided made you stiffen around Taylor’s shaft.

“Shit, I’m going to—“ Taylor warned, his large hand splayed on your sweaty lower back while he wallowed in the confines of your walls, squeezing and clamping around his bristling cock.

Your mouth was stretched, saliva dripping from either corners of your lips, the crown of their dicks thick enough to shut your trap without so much as touching your throat. The wonderful sounds of their moans made the strain on your jaw well-worth the ache you were surely going to feel the effects from tomorrow onwards.

“Taking two cocks at once—never seen that before, Christ…” There was a vacant space in the middle of your mouth. Tilting your chin up, Oliver pushed a wad of spit into the opening—smug as he watched it fall into the void, somewhere in the back of your throat.

“He’s a horny little thing, isn’t he?” Tom followed in Oliver’s steps, spitting inside of your mouth. Two people were enough to set off a chain reaction as the rest of the group quickly joined. Nico, Drew, and Zane added their own shipment to the pooling spit haul, and they all watched in awe when you relaxed your tongue and let it drain into the back of your throat as one load.

The dehumanizing exploitation of your body turned sweat into goosebumps, and you were eager to be covered in welts by the time you were done.

Your entire body lit up at the attention the men were giving you. Taylor fucked you harder, his hands bruising on your body. Nico and Drew occupied the sloppy void that was your mouth when Tom pulled out to join Zane in kissing your flushed neck, and Oliver tended to your abandoned cock with his hand, stroking and twisting your knob. You choked on the two cocks as they attempted to fuck your mouth. It was a constant collision on your tongue and cheeks, where loads of spit pooled and dripped for a messy bustle, and you wouldn’t let them out of your mouth until Taylor delivered one strong thrust, and emptied himself inside of you. The sudden launch of his cum erupting inside made you pull away with a bated breath and moan, your body writhing as he flooded your insides.

“Fuck!” He shouted from behind you, clawing into your inner thighs while your ass was pumped with the warmth of his thick cum. Warm spurts continued to paint you from the inside as Taylor resumed his hips for a few more seconds, dumping every seed that he could push out deep inside of your violated hole, until his sack was emptied.

“Don’t let it leak out,” Drew hoisted you off of Taylor’s limp and recovering body, and pushed you back onto all fours, your head in between Taylor’s legs. “—and clean him up. Not a drop wasted, got it?”

“M-mm, yeah—fuck!” When you began licking at the underside of Taylor’s softening cock, your hole was back to being occupied again with the hung curve that was Drew’s dick. He didn’t waste a single second in making you squirm. With both hands tucked into your pelvis, Drew used your body as leverage while fucking madly into you.

“Fuck—look at you, you’re creaming all over my dick,” the sounds were delectable. Soft and creamy with every thrust Drew delivered to your ass—you felt some cum splatter onto your back from how hard he was fucking into you. As much as your asscheeks stung from the way his thighs clapped against your flesh, you were relishing every second of it with Taylor’s cock in your mouth, languidly swiveling your tongue and lapping up remnants of his seed until he was pristine.

The rough spanking marked you as Drew’s in the moment. You felt guilty for thinking it, but it was placed in good faith. HIs palm seared your stinging ass, reminding you to tend to the others. You do, your vision blurry and hazy, but you took whatever cock wanted to enter your mouth. Tom’s, Oliver’s, Nico’s, then Zane’s—they all tasted incredible and if you were allowed to, you could see yourself coming right then and there—simply from sucking cock—cocks.

You thrived in rough hands. Drew’s, Zane’s—anyone’s. Your skin throbbed when Zane and Nico slapped your cheeks with their cocks, and your asshole spasmed when Drew sealed himself within you, pushing every drop of seed until he slumped over the curve of your back, toppling you onto the ground with his weight. Even then, he pushed into your squirms, his cock buried deep into your ass, refusing to pull himself away from the sickening pleasure.

“Up and at ‘em, (M/N). Not done yet,” Oliver smiled and pulled you onto your feet, positioning himself behind you.

“Fuck—Zane…” You called out to him, bracing yourself on the arm of his couch as your muscles were still stirring awake from their sleep.

He approached you, quick in his steps, immediately tending to your non-existent wounds. His fingers through your hair, his hand over your cheeks. “What—you’re okay? What do you need? Too much? Fuck—Drew, I told you to go easy on—”

“N-no, no! I’m okay—fuck, I—I love this… so much… So much cum inside of me, god—” You were in a dreamlike state, drunk on the lights overhead you were mistaking for stars. Reality blurred even more when you felt Oliver take your wrists with one strong hold, holding them over your back, and pushed himself inside of you with one strong thrust. “Fuck!”

“Loosen up, dude. Your boy’s enjoying it—see? Taking our cocks like it’s a fucking olympic sport,” Oliver cruelly laughed, ignoring the twisting of Zane’s face as he focused on the absolute bliss on your face, holding you parallel to his body, to the sharp thrusts he catapulted upwards into your sloppy hole. “All the cocks that’s been inside of you, but you’re still so fucking tight. You going to loosen anytime soon? Hm? Too much of a slut to let that happen, right? I know you feel me in your guts, (M/N). You look fucking beautiful taking my dick so effortlessly.”

Drips of cum were leaking out of you. You could feel it trailing from your creamy hole, then down to the back of your slick tensed thighs as Oliver fucked you while standing.

Unlike Drew, Oliver didn’t need to brand you with hard spanks to your body. His hammering cock was enough, hollowing you with ease, the crown assaulting your sweet spot with ease—everything Oliver did was with ease, and it was further aided as you let yourself go limp. He fucked you bent over the arm of the couch, then when he had enough, you were back to being fucked standing. His arms looped around your pits, then interlocked behind your neck in support of his thrusts. His cock was ruthless in your ass, spearing and ruining your hole for anyone else to come after him. Your tender hole was brutally stretched around his swelling cock, your body burning up from the hold he was restraining your body with. Oliver whispered praises for your endurance, kisses you on the neck, then the shell of your ear for providing him a pleasure that would be the blueprint for the rest of his hook-ups. He straightened his knees, pushing himself balls deep into you, and in one long groan from his gut, spilled deep inside of you.

“Bet you feel so full, don’t you? Fuck…” Oliver grabbed his dick at the base and squeezed the remaining spurts inside of you before pulling out, flicking any remnants of cum over your bruised ass cheeks.

You moaned for him. The third load in your ass, and your heart was aching because you were another man closer to concluding the night.

It was open, dripping in cum, and then immediately seized when Nico pulled you onto his lap to join him on the couch. You felt like a rag doll—pulled, tossed, and thrown however one was pleased to treat you. As long as your hole was still functioning and remained at their disposal, neither of the men had any complaints about marking your body with a few scuffs.

Nico faced you to the group, your back planted against him. You whimpered when your tired limbs were hoisted once again as he hooked his arms under your knees, and then raised your legs up to position your dripping hole over his cock. Your hole had become a luscious swell of gape. The group marveled at the sight of your puffy rim, beautifully creamed by the pleasure of Taylor, Drew, and Oliver respectively.

“Holy shit, he’s fucking hollowed out…” Tom muttered, stroking himself to the sight of your insides blooming for everyone to see.

“Shit’s getting me horny again,” Taylor laughed, tugging on his flaccid cock, his body still recovering from the high he had inflicted upon himself moments prior.

Supporting your body with his arms, Nico raised your legs higher, bending them back until your knees hovered near your temples, and then locked his hand around your neck to hold you in place. Your mouth fell agape at the stretch of your muscles, and heat spread throughout your body as the group watched Nico’s cock breach your opening with a slow shove, pushing the leak of cum back inside of your guts.

Your hands trembled as you guarded your position on the couch upon Nico folding you back and feasting on your insides with his length. You felt Nico’s thighs tense, pushing up into you with all his might while your gaze locked with Zane’s. He gulped at the unholy sight of your hole being raptured—hungrily being excavated with Nico’s throbbing tool. Nico’s cock was covered in the recent load stuffed inside of you, an increasing sheen the more he fell into a rhythm, and rutted into you aimlessly, chasing after his fill. He slid in and out of you easily, the ample amount of cum replacing any need for to renew his dick with lube.

You and Nico panted in union. His heavy cock stretched you open, and Nico apologized with a blistering kiss to your shoulder, as if fucking you couldn’t be the apology itself. When you alternated your gaze to Tom, he looked almost predatory. Eager like he had always been, but something internal was running thin—Tom’s patience. He scooted closer, watching you take Nico’s fat cock with scalding envy. While your hole took the screwing, Tom caressed the rim of your asshole. You were loose enough for what he wanted to do to you. Carefully, Tom pressed one finger against the underside of Nico’’s cock, and you choked back on your moans, throwing your head back at the sudden tightness as Tom slipped a finger inside of you. Nico continued rocking, occasionally slowing to accommodate Tom as he worked three fingers inside of you.

“T-Tom, that’s too much—“

“But it feels good though, right? You seem to like it when it’s too much.”

Spitting on his own cock, Tom massaged the layer of lube in before lining himself with your occupied opening. Your eyes widened in stupefied anticipation—in arousing fear—yet you brought your hands over to spread your ass cheeks for him, for Tom to force his cock into your body alongside Nico’s length, and you cried with the double breach.

“M-mmfgh! Fuck…!” You cried out, your eyes rolled in the sockets, leaving only the whites of your eyeballs visible as Nico and Peter began moving in opposite rhythms.

“Fuck, Tom—your dick feels so good against mine, holy crap—“

With an animalistic groan, you pushed your ass out, greedily taking the two cocks into your gut despite the uncomfortable stretch signaling for you to stop and rethink about this decision unfolding before your very eyes.

Not long after, Nico and Tom pumped their hips in harmony, filling you over and over. Cum would trickle out from Tom joining, but he was quick to pull himself back out and scoop it back inside of you with a deep plunge that made the three of you reduce yourselves to nothing but guttural moans. You felt Nico’s body tense beneath you, coercing your own to tighten at the core.

Holding your thighs, Tom pushed into you to the hilt while Nico followed suit. They shuddered with ecstasy, growling like wild beasts from the natural impulse to clamp your sloppy hole around them. Their cocks were rubbing against one another, harder, faster, as they fucked themselves inside of you, opening you more than you had thought was imaginable at a relentless pace. You mewled, collapsing back onto Nico’s hold as your body rocked from the powerful thrusts as if you were caught in a tide.

You felt your own cock throb at this, balls tightening and stroking your cock to the sound of Nico in your ear and Tom at your lips, panting into your mouth in between messy kisses. You were wrecked, completely and utterly ruined as they rocked their shafts into you in opposite strides now. One would hit your sweet spot while the other pulled himself out to renew that fresh stretch of your rim again as they pushed with conviction. Between labored breaths, you searched for Zane over Tom’s shoulder, your heart beating faster and faster as he seemed to be mesmerized by the display of your sheer dedication in following in on your promise to make him feel like the luckiest man on Earth.

Faster. Harder. Deeper. In a matter of seconds, you all came together. Your body spasmed and writhed between their own twitching, your hole clenched around the erupting cocks, your own dick throbbed and spurted out creamy ropes onto your body. Their hips were unrelenting, frothing the thick cum sent deep into your crevices with writhing and swollen flesh, and you slumped, Nico’s released hold relieving your muscles as your body shifted back and forth from the two cocks milking themselves until their shafts softened.

At the thought of Zane—the last man that you would be taking—your position came to you unbidden. Scrolled over the arm of the couch again, you felt comforted by the ample leg room, stretching your muscles for the final act while Zane prepared himself behind you, laving his cock over your crevice, submerging himself in the wetness that your raw hole was dripping out. You were depraved of touch—Zane’s touch—you barely spent a minute with him in between stationing yourself with every men. All except him.

“They did a real number on you…” Zane muttered in your ear. His left hand caressed the tense muscles in your back before joining his right in steering you by the shoulders, his grip clutching a bruising shade into your skin. “Suddenly I don’t matter anymore, hm? You only call me over to show yourself off—showing off that dripping hole of yours.” Unsolicited moans drew out of you with the push of Zane’s hips, fitting his cum-covered cock over your crevice, as a way to soothe the swelling of your puffy rim, but also to ridicule your newfound addiction. “Showing off what was mine—that has now been ruined by five other fucking men. Fuck, I saw the way you were looking at them. All of them. You reek of them too, fucking slut.” He deliberately pressed his swollen cockhead to your ring of muscle, swirling and tracing the circumference, only to move back a centimeter and slide himself right by, pressing his shaft against you instead.

You whimpered, circling your hips back for more of Zane, to apologize to him with the warmth of your hole, to make up for your lack of attention towards him by letting him milk himself inside of you—like you’d done for the others. “I-I’m sorry—Zane, please—“ Your breath hitched when Zane wrapped a hand around your throat and pulled you against his imposing chest, arching you forward.

“So, you want my cock now? Five dicks weren’t enough? You need mine to feel satisfied? Face the group. Tell them how much you love my cock,” squeezing your cheek, he forced your head to turn to his friends. They stirred in their seats, their hands back to fisting their erections again.

“I-I love Zane’s cock… I love the way he fucks me—no—the way he makes love to my hole, the way he fills me up to the brim with his thick cum, the way he milks himself and breeds me. I love that he takes his time with me, s-shows me that I’m more than just a doll for fucking,” With the way you were looking; panting from the amount of dick you had taken for the past hour, sweating from the thickened sex in the air, dripping from the loads that marked their battle claim on you; you evoked a fever that spread from one end of the circle to the other. One by one, they gathered closer, inhaling the scent of your arousal—their sex, their seed deeply embedded into your body like you had no other choice but to use them as cologne.

“I-I love that he fucks me—like he loves me,” you peeked over your shoulder to look back at him with groveling gratitude. Was it a mistake to admit this for the first time? In this moment? Where it was confessed to the public, rather than solely to Zane? Your heart raced, and Zane was well-aware as he pacified you with doting affection on your chest, roaming his free hand over the plane, tweezing your perky nipples while his other hand at your throat maintained. You brought a hand up to hold his nape, to hold you close to you because—you’d been separated from your boyfriend for far too long. You were malfunctioning, throwing yourself to every man who wanted to please you and that swollen hole of yours, and you needed Zane to ground you back to him.

And ground you he did—Zane humbled you in the process, evidently satisfied with your short monologue as the kiss he honored you with was deep and enthralling. He poured all sorts of emotion in your mouth, explored it with his tongue in midst of tucking his feelings inside of you, muttered incoherent words of affection while he was drunk on your breath feeding his lungs with life.

“I love you,” he tucked the confession into the shell of your ear and punctuated his returning feelings with one sharp charge of his thrust. The previous loads within you permeated—saturated deep into your flesh—as Zane congested your guts with his large cock, making you wail on his slow, but bellicose hips. “I. Love. You.” Zane repeated in your ear, following up with every one of his thrusts. His cock was methodical inside of you. Screwing what was loose, tightening your walls like his cock was a hammer to secure you around his girth. You felt yourself tip-toeing the floor, the thrusts catapulting your body from Zane’s strength, but there was not a second where you didn’t feel safe. His hold on you—driving into you with his cock, restricting your limbs while he showered you with the most heart-fluttering compliments—he was your sanctuary, the holiest of all places, and you felt revived.

He had his hand over your throat, vaulting your moans with a clamp, pushing you back onto your heel, but as soon as he came up again and delivered those rapturing thrusts, you returned to your natural stance on your tip-toes. You struggled to make sounds—loud mewls and whimpers that proved how absolutely fulfilling you felt in the moment. Your throat was sore and dry, and your body was exhausted and could only endure Zane for so long. You fell limp in Zane’s arms, tensing at the right moments where he penetrated your prostate. It was the unsolicited answer to your body malfunctioning.

The roll of your eyes, the spasming of your asshole, the gape of your mouth as silent moans thickened the air—you and Zane bonded as one. Your ass pushed back to meet his thrusts, creating an electrifying wave of thunderous sounds of sweaty and sticky skin clapping against each other. You felt your body ripple from Zane’s power, from his devotion to forge your hole to the shape of his cock, from his desperate need to tell you that he loved you with more than just his words. You felt every inch of him through your gut. Bent over the arm of the couch, your sweat dripped onto the leather while he fucked you against it, your skin chafing abrasively. Your knees constantly collided with the furniture, but you were too far gone, completely lost in a cycle of Zane’s affection that you didn’t realize your chin was being held up by Drew, jerking his cock over your face.

You blinked rapidly to ward off exhaustion and before you could comprehend the line forming behind him, your face was propelled with thick flying ropes of cum. Drew spilled all over you with a moan, aiming wherever, but mostly at the center. He shot at you hard, feeling himself splatter from your lips, then to your hair.

It happened rapidly, Zane’s hips seemingly quickening to sync with the group’s thunder-paced wrists. Taylor was the next person in line, pumping his hairy cock to the sight of Drew’s cum dripping off of your nose from the vigor force Zane was pummeling you from behind. With a deep grunt and a push of his hips, Taylor emptied his heavy sack, adding onto the layers of cum on your face.

You’ve seen it in the videos you’d watched. It was no good letting their hard-work go to waste. You tipped your head back and Tom helped, resting his hand at your hairline while he stroked his cock over the stains on your face. Again, he was another man to blow another thick load onto your face. Before he left, he made sure to wipe himself clean on your neck, embellishing you with his gratitude.

Then came Nico; the massive amount of loads on your face pooled as you patiently waited for his second high. Your vision was screwed, trying to peer through the cum dripping down your eyelids, but eventually you had to settle on shutting your eyes and anticipate blindly. Within seconds, you heard Nico grunt and moan, followed by another spillage onto your face. He aimed directly at your mouth, where you missed the first unforeseen shot, but quickly adapted and opened your mouth to hold his seed. The salty taste on your tongue bloomed, and whoever’s cum was trailing from the bridge of your nose, past your philtrum and into your open mouth was even saltier, making you writhe as the shudders were uncontrollable when you swallowed.

Finally, Oliver stepped up and amused himself to the heavy decoration weighing down on your face. Stroking his cock, he also played with the cum, dipping the crown of his cock into someone else’s load, scooping a white thread was dangling off your jaw and into your mouth, wiping your eyelids clean with his glans—because he wanted you to see this. He wanted you to watch him come on you with immense pride, to watch him pump the study veins in his thick cock as he indulged at the sight of your pretty eyes surrounded by the four prior men’s fulfillment. With gritted teeth, Oliver groaned from the depth of his gut and released his seed all over you. The group saved the largest load for last. Your eyes immediately clenched following one thick splatter to your lid, then the other, blurring your vision and stinging your eyes once again as Oliver targeted painting you from all corners of the face, including the ones he had helped wipe clean. He squeeze the last remaining seed, and flicked it onto your lips, groaning from the sudden sensitivity in his cock.

“Shit… you look so—” Zane groaned from behind you. He couldn’t stop marveling at it; the unholy sight of your face snowed under an ample amount of cum. The scent of the group’s sex drifted in the almost still air, and Zane ached inside of you.

You can feel the warmth emanating from his study body when he pushed his weight onto you, fucking into you harder and igniting the burn in your thighs. Peeking from one eye, your head was turned to where Zane claimed his rightful place on your lips again. His eyes flashed with hunger at the taste of someone’s cum dripping into your mouth, so he kissed harder, molding your hole to his cock and hammering into you at a breath-taking pace. There were multiple passageways the various pool of mixed semen were taking on your face. A web dangled off your cheek, a trail dripped in pursuit of the kiss, a wet clump was smushed between Zane’s nose and yours; you and Zane were a sloppy mess, and you both were baptized by the scent, the taste, and the feeling of it all.

You were gorgeous, your delicate state only adding to your appeal. One more look at you, and Zane grunted low. He reached between your thighs with his hands, so hard it hurt, and he was wild and strong, fucking into you madly while knocking your breath into a state of stasis. His hips smacked against your ass, faster and faster, and your body was up in flames. Every thrust felt punishing, like he wanted to condemn you for seducing him—for loving him—but if this was punishment, you needed to find more ways to anger him, to love him.

You whimpered into his growls, his firm hands pulled you impossibly closer by the thighs, clutching and fucking you back onto his cock, as he raptured himself into you. He stroked the inside of your mouth, his tongue feeling fat and warm, savoring the taste of salty seed on your tongue, and he groaned into you once more. He grunted and growled like an animal, powered by the group watching in awe, the ravenous noise reverberating through your guts, and you feel the eruption of cum dousing your flesh, deep in your guts, his large cock pulsating in you.

The pleasure hit you like a lightning bolt. Your thighs shook, your hole spasmed, and you rut against his swelling cock, pleasured and soothed by the warmth and thickness of his steaming cum. His release had him quivering against your back, his face tucked inside the crook of your neck while he rocked slowly, breeding you.

“So good, you’re so fucking good…” Zane muttered weakly, panting and mouthing against the back of your ear.

“So full—“ you groaned at the heavy weight of dick in you, then hissed when Zane bucked his hips once more, kissing the crown of his cock to the mouth of your prostate, as if it was a reminder for you that he owned you.

Obscene noises came from his cock plunging your ass with cum—more cum, as you struggled to contain another load, and felt it drip down to your ankles. You sighed, taking it all in—taking Zane in—and slumped over the arm of the couch, heaving a euphoric sigh of relief, relishing in the high-yielding pleasure that was Zane’s cock, dazzling by the lights above you—the stars.

“You guys okay?” laughing at the group’s sudden exhaustion, Zane refused to pull away from you. His hands curled around your hips, then carefully maneuvered himself to lie on the couch with him, still buried to the root of your hole.

“Better than a smoke,” Drew yawned, rubbing his large hand over your ankle by virtue of exceeding his expectations. Nico petted at your head, the spent look on your face charming when you turned towards him and weakly smiled. Tom and Oliver were quiet, still recovering from their orgasm. When you caught their gaze, they held up their thumb once before plummeting back onto the floor.

“Fuck, man—you were great,” Taylor slumped against the foot of the couch, limbs sprawled from the exhaust of muscles, but he joined in on the caressing of your leg, squeezing at your calf, nearly rendering you to sleep.

One by one, the group fell to a silence, a gentle slumber despite the hardwood floors forewarning a few of them of a back ache the next morning. You watched peacefully, the caressing of your body slowly coming to a halt, and then looked back at Zane, collapsed onto your back, drifting into sleep with the gentle snores near your ear.

Hopefully by morning—Zane would tell you that you fulfilled on your promise.

He was the luckiest man alive.

nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. and if you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!

[glossysoap]

laying claim; orc! price

dedicated to the amazing, talented, perf @vgilantee ! i'm so so sorry this took so long, there was so much going on both in my personal life and in this dumpster fire of a fandom so it made it very hard to focus on anything. but i really hope you enjoy it regardless <3 also thank you to @/yeyinde for asking about this way back when, it really encouraged me <3

tw: 18+, afab and fem pet names but reader isn’t gendered, pussy is referred to a few times as ‘her’, dubcon -> con, reader is scared but horny, stretching, cervix fucking, spit play, face grabbing, forced eye contact, pussy spanking, squirting, hinting to future orc gangbang with the 141.

wc: 5k

reader info: size difference regardless of the readers body type because he's an orc and therefore has abnormal strength. this also means he can manhandle reader, no matter the size.

"Found you." Your heart dropped.

His face was hardened, mouth twisted into a snarl and nostrils flaring. His brows all bushy, framing stormy blue eyes that narrowed as he stared down at you. A scar narrowly missed his right eye, slashing next to his eyebrow and continuing down to his cheek. His jaw was covered by thick mutton chops, a thin layer of stubble going down his neck. Two fangs peeked out from his mouth, even when it was closed, poking out to lay on his top lip.

His dark eyes were narrowed and clouded with lust as he peered down at you, akin to a lion stalking a wounded doe and luring it into his den.

“Had my eyes on you for some time now, pet.” He murmurs, not bothering to hide how his eyes drink you in. Every roll and plane that made up your body, especially in how scantily clad you were.

He was all green skin with scars and markings littering his body. Every mark and scar drew your attention to him even more, sending chills down your spine.

Intricate black lines and runes decorated his green skin. Scars and burns and bites littered his body, evidence of past injuries and fights won well.

His hulking, muscular body that threatened to overpower you with no effort at all. You gulped at the size of him, intimidated at the size of every part of him.

His huge, broad shoulders that could carry you with no effort, no matter how much you weighed. His hard, bulging biceps that could easily choke you out from behind in a headlock. His large, calloused hands that could easily snap your neck in one fell swoop — coupled with thick fingers that would fill your cunt more than any human mans fingers would. His thick thighs that dwarfed any human mans thigh.

Then finally, one glance between his thighs was all it took for you to see how well endowed he was. Your eyes widened even more when you saw the shadow of his cock, fully covered with a hanging piece of black cloth. It hung low at about seven inches in length and over two inches in girth. And that was when it was soft. You could only imagine how big he would be when he was hard and throbbing.

He let out a deep, husky chuckle at your expression that was something akin to a skittish doe. He would make it fit.

You’d be finding that out sooner than you thought.

Before you knew it, he was crowding you up against the stone wall so your face and chest were pressed up against it. He used his big arms to cage you against the wall as he pressed his almost bare naked body against your back, leaning down a bit so he can tuck his face in your neck. You gasped as you felt his beard scratch your neck, his breath fanning against your cheek.

“Mmm,” He rumbles from deep in his chest, his lips ghosting over your ears. “You feel what you do to me?” Just as he all but growls that question into your ear, he pressed himself up against you even more — so you could feel his barely clothed cock pressing up against your hips.

Your breath hitched at the pure size of it, you could feel its size from just pressing up against you from behind.

His lips curled against your ear in a smirk as he heard your little gasp.

“Yeah? You feel me throbbing against you?” He asks, beard scratching your ear. “Tell me, if I reached down between your legs.. what would I find?” Before you could protest or try to swat him away, one hand left its place on the wall beside your head - trailing his hairy arm down your bare stomach before slipping his large hand down past the waistband of your panties.

“Would I find that tight cunt all wet for me?” His voice sent goosebumps across your skin, chills running down your spine - the absolute filth he was whispering to you didn’t help either.

“N-no.”

He moved his other hand from the wall next to your head, bringing it to cup your face. His grip is all rough and calloused as he tilts your head back, forcing you to look at him.

His lips curled into a smirk as he stared into your wide, scared eyes. You were frozen and breathing heavily.

Not only was he dissecting your every blink and gasp with his gaze that burned into you, his other hand was busy burying between your thighs. He groped the warm, soft skin of your inner thighs with his large, calloused hand - giving it firm squeezes that left you gasping. The callouses and scars that littered his palms scratched against your stretch marks.

His eyes burned into your face, watching how your expression shifted when the rough pads of his fingers found your wet folds. He chuckled at your gasp, starting to trace his fingers teasingly along your entrance.

Then, he suddenly pulled his fingers away. Only to let his palm come down on your mound in a hard spank. He drank in the sounds of your yelps and cries as he did it again and again, his rough palm hitting your clit. He grinned as he felt your slick covering his palm.

With every spank of his palm down on your cunt and every swipe of his fingers along your slit, he gathered more and more of your juices. The wetness that soaked his fingers and dripped down your thighs was all the proof he needed of your unbridled lust and anticipation.

“Mmm, I knew it.” He crooned in your ear all too condescendingly, the cruel cadence of his voice making you grow even wetter. “Just soakin’ my palm and I’ve barely even touched you.”

Your eyes pricked with tears at his filthy words. You didn’t want this. You bit your lip between your teeth as you felt two of his thick fingers press against your soaked slit, before finally dipping inside your entrance.

You were ashamed at how easily they slipped in. You were ashamed at how your cunt fluttered around his thick fingers. He scissored them for a moment suddenly, making your eyes flutter shut in a moment of embarrassing weakness.

Your eyes were shut for only a few seconds, but that was enough for him to slide the hand that was holding your face down until it was gripping your throat.

Your eyes flew back open when he applied pressure, immediately darting back to his hardened gaze.

“Ah, fuck—,” You gasped, hands flying to grasp at his muscular forearm in an attempt to ground you.

His large hand easily enveloped the column of your throat, squeezing slightly - just enough to make your head a bit fuzzy. It didn’t help that the fingers that were buried in your cunt were now actively scissoring in your warmth, making your breath hitch. You knew he could easily apply more pressure on your neck and snap it like a twig. That thought in your brain is what prevented you from struggling too much more.

“That’s it. Keep those eyes on me.” He ordered, his voice a husky growl that reverberated down your spine.

You felt his grip tighten on your neck ever so slightly and your eyes widened a fraction more. Your eyes welled with more tears as you try your best to maintain eye contact. He smirks at the sight of your eyes all wet and glossy.

He eases in a third finger and fuck, it slides in so easily that he can’t help but groan against your neck in approval. His groan melds perfectly with the gargled whine that falls from your lips, almost a wheeze from his hold on your neck.

“Stop, no-," a weak protest leaves your mouth, choked off by him literally choking you, hand squeezing down in a quick pulse. as his thick fingers waste no time in exploring your warmth. Three fingers were working on stretching you open, preparing your cunt for his girth.

You hated how much your cunt squeezed around his fingers, and the way he laughed about it only made your face warm even more in embarrassment.

He had to have been working you open for minutes, whispering filthy promises in your ear and nipping at your lobe all the while. Enjoying all the broken cries that fell from your mouth. All whiney, broken and pathetic.

With every pump of his fingers inside your soaked cunt, lewd wet sounds filled the room.

Schlick, schlick, schlick.

Your cheeks warmed at the sound, and you felt the scratch of his beard against your skin as he smirked.

“You hear that? You hear how wet you are for me? Just so fucking soaked.” He groans, curling his fingers at a cruel angle to emphasize the last word. You cried out against your will as his fingers alternated between curling and scissoring, exploring your cunt for that special spot that made you see stars, no matter how much you tried to will against it.

You forced yourself to keep your eyes open and trained on him as he pumped his thick fingers in and out. You had to just look up at him as he made you crane your neck, your glossed over eyes meeting his darkened gaze.

“Grippin’ my fingers so tight,” he laughs, all booming and full of dominating presence. “Wonder how tight that greedy little pussy will be grippin’ my cock.” You flinched at his words. But he didn't miss how your pussy fluttered around his fingers.

His words were full of mirth and teasing, his mouth curved into a smirk as he finger fucks you. The more he pumps his thick fingers inside your cunt, the more your eyes threaten to roll back inside your skull. Every time your eyes roll back, his other hand tightens its grip on your throat - just enough to snap you out of it and make you stare at him again. As he feels your pulse race under his hand, he also feels both of your hands gripping his hairy forearm and using it as an anchor. Your nails dig into his green skin, leaving little crescent marks in the already scarred skin.

You couldn't help but clench even more around his thick fingers at the thought of his cock stretching you so wide and filling you up perfectly. It was like your own animal instincts were taking over, your cunt begging for him and his cock no matter how much your mind or mouth protested.

"You just can't wait for me to stretch you open, huh? Can't wait for me to leave that cunt gaping and begging for more?" He all but purrs into your ear, watching with a cruel grin as fat tears fall down your cheeks.

You tried to shake your head even in the chokehold he had you in, and though you could barely move your head, he still laughed at your pathetic attempt of a protest. His eyes moved from your eyes down to your mouth that was hanging open and slick with your own drool.

"Look at that pretty mouth, so fuckin' needy. Bet you'd take me all the way down that throat, huh?" He squeezed your throat right as he said it, grinning at the choked gargles that left your mouth.

"Not just yet. Gotta break in that cunt first."

"I can keep that mouth busy, though." You don't have any time to question him before he's crashing his lips against yours. It's all a mash of teeth and tongue, nipping and sucking and tasting. Devouring. Just like you knew he would do to you, not leaving an inch of your body untouched. You couldn't try and pull away no matter how much you knew you should've.

His thick fingers keep working on stretching out your cunt, pumping his digits into your heat at a furious pace, hearing the wet sounds made from each thrust. You can feel the hair on his arm brush against your stomach as that forearm flexes with each thrust of his fingers. While his fingers pumped in and out, the rough skin of his palm rubbed up against your clit, making you more and more sensitive.

With every pass of his rough fingers along your sensitive walls, you felt yourself nearing your first orgasm of many. You also felt your resolve slipping and crumbling, despite your best efforts. Begs clawed from your throat and threatened to spill over into the kiss. That knot of warmth wound up tighter and tighter in your stomach as his fingers split you apart from the inside. Your brows knit together and your eyes clenched shut. You keep gripping onto his hairy forearm like you were searching for purchase, anchoring yourself to reality.

"Mmm, there you go." He coos into the kiss, voice dripping with faux sympathy, when you finally gave in, whimpering brokenly into the kiss. Keening like a mutt.

He swallowed every moan and sob that fell from your mouth, his tongue exploring your mouth and tasting every inch of you he could reach. He licked into your mouth with a claiming tongue, with a tongue that overpowered yours, lapping wherever his tongue could reach and leaving his spit in his wake. Making it his own.

You found yourself kissing him back before you could help it. You stuck your tongue out and tentatively licked at the seam of his mouth, trailing along the large fangs that peeked out from his mouth.

The kiss was so full of heat, full of passion, that your lips were quickly wet and bite swollen. All shiny and slippery from the spit mingling together, just a reminder of where his tongue had claimed you.

He nips and bites at your lip, tugging it between his teeth with a growl. With every tug and bite, his fangs nicked the sensitive skin of your lips, letting blood trickle and mix with your mingling saliva.

You let out a mewl at the sting that radiated from your lip, followed by his sandpaper tongue lapping at the wound. He licked up the blood with a pleased hum, the noise vibrating deep from his chest.

“Mmm, knew you would taste good. Could tell just by the sight of you.” He purred against your lips, his eyes peeking open to scan your flustered expression. All panting and sweaty, your lips swollen from his biting and sucking, glossy from spit.

Your eyes were dazed as your mind was clouded with lust, your heart racing in your ears as the heat bubbled in your stomach.

"I’d venture a guess that your juices taste even better.” Is all he mutters against your lips before he curls his fingers in search of that sensitive spot. “I intend to find out.”

You can feel his eyes on you the whole time, burning into you and watching with a brutish grin as your expression melted into further ecstasy. He watched as your eyes unfocused and your brows furrowed. Your jaw falls open in a quiet gasp as he scissors his fingers, all while still curled inside you. He starts searching for that special spot that'll send you over the edge, and he keeps his fingers curled all the while.

When you let out a choked cry, all sharp and shrill, he knows he's found it. His grin stretches into a full blown smirk as he starts abusing that spot, not relenting for even a moment. The wet sounds got louder, more obscene, as his fingers pumped into you at a furious speed, hitting your g-spot every single time.

"C'mon, let go. Come for me. Give it to me, pet." He barked the demand, like he was referring to an inanimate object and not your mindblowing orgasm that he was about to shove onto you.

You had no choice but to obey his command when he used his thumb to rub cruelly at your clit, all while his fingers curled and prodded your g-spot. The cherry on top though, is when he slips in a fourth finger to join in on curling against your g-spot. You wailed as you squirted, your cunt fluttering around his fingers, your slick drenching his palm.

The exact moment that your mouth was hanging open and your tongue was lolling out, he gathered a fat glob of spit on his tongue and let it drip down onto yours. He chuckled at your blissed out expression, your eyes glazed over and pupils blown out.

He turns you around so your back was pressed against the hard stone wall and you were facing him. You still had to crane your neck up to make eye contact but now, he didn't need to crane it backwards by a grip on your neck. Instead, now he just plucks you from where you stood and presses you up against the wall. You practically yelp as your legs instinctively wrap around his waist, your arms coming up to wrap around his neck. One of his big hands supports your plump ass, while his other hand moves to grabs your face. He squeezes until your lips are puckered, your wet eyes already meeting his. He captures your mouth in a kiss again, enjoying how lax and pliant you were in his arms now that you'd creamed on his fingers.

He tasted his own spit on your tongue as he swallowed you up again in a kiss.

As he had you in his arms, your back pressed against the wall, he felt your juices went against his cloth - the only flimsy piece of fabric that separated his chubbed up cock from your soaked throbbing cunt.

"Can feel that needy pussy. Droolin' for me, isn't she?" He asks against your mouth, a string of saliva connecting your lips. You mewled into him, trying to chase after his mouth. You didn't deny his words. In fact, your hips had started grinding into him absentmindedly as he held you in his arms.

It's as if your mind was blank and all you needed was for your pussy to be filled to the brim, plugged full of his cock and cum. He saw it in how your eyes fluttered shut and he heard it in how you were panting and whining, mewling for more.

"Yeah, you just need to be broken in, huh?" He crooned against your mouth, nipping at your lip. "She needs me to fill her up, good and proper, hm?" You keen at his words, clutching at his broad shoulders and rocking your cunt against him. He barked a laugh at your utter desperation, enjoying the complete one-eighty from how stubborn you were only minutes prior.

"Please, please, please," You whine and plead, your voice thick with emotion as you stared up at him with need. His hand was still gripping your face, your lips still puckering like a fish. "Need, need you s'bad."

He dipped his head down so his lips were against your neck, teeth nipping at your skin as he began mouthing at the column of your neck. You let your head fall back against the wall. His canines made you flinch and gasp, the sweet spark of pain only serving to make you even wetter. He lapped at the sweat along your skin, savoring the taste of your skin and the salty sweat. He pressed open mouthed kisses under your ear, pausing only to nip and tug at your lobe. He growled into your ear.

While he was busy worshipping your neck, he let go of your face and used that hand to slip between your bodies. He fished his chubbed up cock out from under the cloth, grinning against your neck at the whimper you let out when you feel the head of his cock swiping along your folds.

He knew you were decently prepped from being finger fucked by his thick digits, since the size of four of his fingers could compare to an everyday human male's cock.

He was so thick, you knew that if you were stroking him off, you'd need to use both hands to wrap around his girth. Now that he was hard, his length was pushing nine inches. His head was just as thick as the rest of his cock, red and weeping with pre, when it wasn't covered in thick foreskin. Veins ran along the underside.

He rubs his mushroom tip up and down your folds, spreading your juices along your cunt and getting his own tip soaked with your warm slick. He holds himself and lets the head of his cock tap against your swollen clit. He chuckles against your neck as he hears you gasp and feels you throb against his cock.

He heard you gasp as he prodded at your entrance, guiding himself to swipe his cock along your slit. He started out by only dipping his tip inside, teasing you with just that smaller intrusion, knowing full well you craved for him to just fill you up.

He continued like that for a few moments, until he got tired of teasing - he needed to be swallowed in your perfect pussy and he needed it now. He finally began sinking himself in, and fuck if you weren't the tightest damn thing. He knew it'd be a stretch to really break you in.

He eased himself in, going inch by inch, pausing when he had gotten two inches inside. He heard your breath shutter, presumably with the initial burn of the stretch, and that was just from the head of his cock. You're in for it now, he thinks.

"Tight thing, ain't you?" He murmurs into your ear, his teeth nipping at your lobe before sucking a bite under it. "Haven't gotten fucked proper in a good while, I bet."

You could only whine in response to his teasing, prying words. He wasn't wrong.

"Oh, poor thing. We'll change that." Before you have any chance to ask what he means by "we", he sinks in even more, until he's buried halfway in your cunt. You choke on a moan, tears pricking your eyes as you feel yourself stretch around his girth. It's a sting, enough to make you wince for a moment, but fuck if it isn't worth it. You already feel so full, you can't imagine how you'll feel when he's buried to the hilt.

Your cunt throbs around him at the thought, making him hiss in pleasure.

As if he could read your mind, he sunk himself in deeper, groaning at how tight you hugged his length. You whimpered and mewled, throwing your head back at the feeling of yourself stretching from his cock. Any human man paled in comparison. Any human fingers, any human tongue and especially any human cock. This orc was all enveloping, he took over your entire body. He pulled you apart from inside out, before putting you back together just to do it all over again.

He hadn't even bottomed out yet and you already knew you would never be able to have a human man again, not after him.

"Perfect fuckin' pussy." You can't help but cry out and flutter around his cock at the praise that's ground out into your ear.

He can't help but sink in even further when you pulse around him, your soft walls pulling him in like a vice. He's about six inches deep now, groaning as you swallow him up so fucking perfectly. He can already feel that coil in his stomach growing tighter and tighter - not doubt just like yours was.

He knew he wouldn't last long, especially when he soon finally bottomed out in your sweet cunt. Judging by the feeling of your pussy stretching to accommodate him and milking him dry, you just might come before him.

You were clutching at his shoulders desperately, clawing at him as you searched for purchase. Your mind was already fuzzy from him finger fucking you, so now that his cock was almost buried to the hilt in your still sensitive cunt? Your tongue felt heavy and your brain was muddled, only able to focus on the way he stretched your cunt and filled you nearly to the brim. You couldn't even attempt to speak coherently, just babbling out broken moans and mewls.

"F-fu--," You choke out, not even able to finish the moaned out curse because your mouth feels so fuzzy and jumbled.

He growled into your neck in pleasure, tongue laving over your pulse point as he inches deeper again, making his cock buried about seven inches deep. He hears you cry out, nails digging into his back. He aches to build a good, steady rhythm of rutting into you.

He only had about two more inches to go. So close he could almost taste it.

He eased himself in even further, hissing at the tightness as he now only had about an inch left until he was buried to the hilt. He was so close to being able to thrust into your heat and feel the resistance of the plug of your cervix. He was so close to feeling you cream around his cock. He was so close to being able to stuff you full of his cock and seed.

He was practically drooling at the thought.

The only encouragement he needed to finally bottom out was the desperate clawing of your nails along his neck and back, along with the steady throbbing and grip of your perfect pussy.

He bottomed out that last inch with a deep growl, all rumbling and full of gravel, before his his teeth sunk into the crook of your neck. "Oh, fuck-!" You let out a wail as you felt him sink in to the hilt, wrapping your arms around his neck and holding him tight to act as an anchor to reality. Your legs tightened and locked around his waist, not letting him pull out. He wouldn't dream of it.

He growled and groaned at finally being buries to the hilt, his balls flush against your ass. He slowly grinded, not fully rutting or thrusting, just to give you one last chance to get accustomed to his size before he had no mercy. The way he grinds himself inside you makes you damn near scream.

The head of his cock nudges your g-spot perfectly when he rolls his hips, making your eyes roll back.

"Yeah? That good?" He asks, a bit breathless but still commanding nonetheless. "C'mon, speak."

You flutter around his cock at his tone and his ministrations.

"Good, good, s' fucking good-," You babble mindlessly as you feel that coil in your stomach build and build.

Then he smirks against your neck and finally starts fucking you proper.

You hear skin slapping against skin, the wet schlick schlick schlick of your sopping cunt being plowed into, and you heard your own broken moans mixed in with the orc's growled and grunts.

"Perfect fuckin' cunt. Made for me, I know it." He grunts against your neck, mouth already getting back to work on leaving bites to claim you. He feels you pulse around him at his words and it only further encourages him to build a quicker rhythm.

“Gonna fuckin’ ruin you for any damned human man.” He snarls into your ear, teeth nipping at your skin. He growls into your ear, deep from his chest and full of gravel as he keeps thrusting into you. "Isn't that right?"

You struggle to answer because your head is so melted and fuzzy, mouth hanging open in a broken, pathetic moan.

"Yes? No? Don't get all quiet now." He demands, never slowing or stopping his cruel thrusts into your already sensitive cunt. "Who does this cunt belong to? Who do you belong to? Hm?" He readjusts you to be planted even further on his cock, damn near spearing you on his length.

You damn near shout out your answer, "You, you, you!" His cock nudges the plug of your cervix as he angles his hips to thrust in at an even more cruel angle. Every single thrust pokes and prods at the plug of your cervix, making your eyes roll back and shove you even closer to your second orgasm.

"Yeah, that's what I thought." He crooned in your ear, voice dripping with sickly sweet faux sympathy. The hand that wasn't being used to cup your ass was now snaking it's way between your bodies to rub at your clit.

The rough pads of his fingers toyed with your sensitive bundle of nerves, making you flutter and constrict around his cock. He heard you choke out a gasp before crying out, throat going raw. He felt you cream around his cock, absolutely gushing and soaking him as you milked him for all he was worth.

"Fuck! Yeah, that's it. Come for me, come for me now, pet." He egged you on, feeling his own release approaching.

The way you milked him and tightened around him so perfectly made him follow you not long after, his hips stuttering into your cunt as he painted your walls with his come. He filled you to the brim just like he intended to, his girth keeping you plugged full of his cum.

He kept you in his arms, full and plugged. Warm and sated. Your eyes fell shut and your breath evened out as you heard him murmur something above you.

"Oh, they'll love you."

©️ glossysoap 2024. please do not steal, copy, plagiarize, translate, or repost any of my works without my permission.

[teal-sharky]

The literally only impressive thing about SpaceX Starship test is that it shows how incredibly dumb the audience is at this point.

People keep comparing Starship to SaturnV, because tentatively, if it ever became a space worthy vessel and orbital delivery vehicle (it's not); it'd be the largest and most powerful one in history, with SaturnV its only near peer (sorry, N-1, you really didn't qualify).

And the first "integration test vehicle" (read: the actually whole complete thing, that's literally the point of that kind of test; it's meant to be all the pieces, already tested and proven on their own, finally assembled into the final thing to make sure everything plays nice when together)

So lets see how did Saturn family development go in comparison? How many "integration test vehicles" did the Saturn project obliterate in the process?

ZERO. They blew up ZERO Saturn first stages, ZERO Saturn second stages, and ZERO Saturn payloads.

It's not fucking normal to blow up rockets this size and complexity, because they're expensive and dangerous! You build SMALLER, SIMPLER prototypes, you test those, you do all the "risky" tests on your separate parts of the system, and test the integration at less ambitious scales and stress levels. That's how you do rocket science. Iteratively, yes! But the iterations must make sense!

And let me stress

They got Saturn to moon and back in the SIXTIES, when simulation was in diapers (partially, literally invented within projects like the Saturn series).

SpaceX exists at a time where they can (and should) do 90% of the raw, grueling development with lot of painful failures in digital simulations, or tests where you build a small, simple thing and enhance the simulation based on what you learned there.

And the worst of it all is that another thing that Elongated Muskrat has at this disposal is all of the Saturn research. It's been DONE.

Saturn and other projects paved the worst of this goddamn slog. They did all the dirty, awful work already. They literally gave us the textbooks that you study from if you actually get a science degree (Elon does not have one).

And again, the most embarrassing thing isn't Musk and his poor, toxic, overworked circus that's SpaceX. The most embarrassing thing is the "space science enthusiast" crowd that's cheering on this launch as some sort of tentative success.

The king is fucking ass goddamn naked, and you all yes-men are an embarrassment to this doomed goddamn species. You're not supporting the effort to give Humanity a "chance at survival", you're hooting and hollering around a basementman dumpster fire that's literally immolating what's left of the scraps of natural and human resources we have left.

[hiddenhearthwitch]

Keep My Name Out Of Your Fucking Mouth ~ Binding curse

Howdy y'all! I was dealing with some bullshit that I would rather not deal with but a las, here I am. Anyways, did a little thing and thought I'd share for anyone who has to work with absolute vain, dumb pieces of shit like me. Please excuse how cringe the writing is, I really let my 13 year old emo me run wild with this but it felt fantastic to cast. As always, when cursing and hexing please make sure you stay safe. Ground yourself before hand, cleanse yourself after, don't damage yourself just to get one over on someone else. Happy casting.

Ingredients:

your rage

a black candle(ideally taper but a tealight or whatever will do just fine)

twine(so they feel like they're suffocating)

a sharp utensil or needle to carve said candle

Steps:

Carve the target's name into the black taper candle with the needle . Put a circle around their name and a giant X over the circle. This is to symbolize a bound mouth.

Wrap the candle with twine, visualizing the person being bound and silenced. Please practice fire safety. DO NOT LEAVE UNATTENDED. Keep in a safe dish or simply opt out of the twine if you know you don't want to sit there the whole time.

Light the black taper and say the incantation below. Let the candle burn down completely or fully past the engraving, focusing on your intent throughout the process.

Dispose of any left over remnants in a way that suits you. Throw it in the trash, a curse box, your jobs dumpster, just be eco-friendly please.

Incantation:

"May your lies and slander turn to dust,

In your mouth, words of me shall rust.

When you speak, the twine constrains,

Your words of me, bound in chains.

Feel the pressure, feel the strain,

Each attempt will be in vain.

By this candle, black as pitch,

Your mouth shall twitch, your tongue shall stitch.

Silence now, hold your breath,

Speak of me and feel my wrath.

This spell I weave, this curse I cast,

Keep my name out of your fucking mouth,

And let this silence last."

[todayisawthewhxlewxrld]

Spellbound

you might be void of feelings i fear i haven’t felt for anyone

synopsis// by no means did you hate soulmates, you just hated that he was your soulmate. not like megumi was ecstatic that he was your soulmate either. but that’s fine, both of you found someone else to keep you company.

status// finished!

updates// everyday unless said otherwise

warning// dating app!au, soulmate!au, college!au, no curses!au, enemies(?) to lovers, profanity, megumi and y/n are edgy pieces of shit <3, kys jokes, crack humor? i’m going back to my cringe 2020 smau roots with reaction images id say i’m sorry but i’m not, if any characters or dynamics r ooc take that up with the universe not me !!

☆ this smau wasn’t inspired by a song but the title was!! ‘twas inspired by spell strike by provoker, so besides the title and lyrics on here the song holds little to no relevance :) ☆

you might be the only one

might be the only one for me

feeling 1. young and stupid

feeling 2. child of divorce

feeling 3. no schedule just vibes

feeling 4. six feet under

feeling 5. this is my fight song

feeling 6. success rate

feeling 7. lone wolf

feeling 8. dumpster fire

feeling 9. retail therapy

feeling 10. be normal

feeling 11. the enemy has been defeated

feeling 12. enemies to lovers irl

feeling 13. exorcism

feeling 14. shut ur up

feeling 15. winner

feeling 16. hip hip hooray

feeling 17. swiped right!

feeling 18. silly little mystery

feeling 19. for no reason

feeling 20. i guess so

feeling 21. sigh of relief

feeling 22. relationship territory

feeling 23. don’t hmu

feeling 24. major in loser

feeling 25. fight club

feeling 26. jigsaw

feeling 27. ghosting

feeling 28. cold shoulder

feeling 29. before marriage

feeling 30. meant to be

feeling 31. a hunch

feeling 32. survival of the fittest

feeling 33. he knows

feeling 34. so close yet so far

feeling 35. (disrespectfully)

feeling 36. regressing

feeling 37. take pity

feeling 38. telepathy

feeling 39. betrayed

feeling 40. two birds with one stone

feeling 41. dead end

feeling 42. mass hysteria

feeling 43. an apology

feeling 44. baby’s first reciprocated love

feeling 45. psychological warfare

feeling 46. jealous

feeling 47. a facade

feeling 48. learning to coexist

feeling 49. with you

feeling 50. useless E information

feeling 51. good idea

feeling 52. break the peace

feeling 53. enjoy the peace

feeling 54. revenge

feeling 55. tolerable

feeling 56. catastrophic

feeling 57. fumbled

feeling 58. easier than you think

feeling 59. no downtime

feeling 60. caught red handed

feeling 61. for good

feeling 62. replace megumi with megumi

feeling 63. delicate

feeling 64. best bet

feeling 65. valid question

feeling 66. devils incarnate

feeling 67. patience is a virtue

feeling 68. grow and change as a person

feeling 69. megumi truthers

feeling 70. knock on wood

feeling 71. come find me

feeling 72. cryptic

feeling 73. more than aware

feeling 74. see the future

feeling 75. trying to be nice

feeling 76. why do you hate me

feeling 77. knight in shining armor

feeling 78. perfect paradox

feeling 79. idgaf war

feeling 80. stay like this forever

feeling 81. baby bird

feeling 82. found your way back

feeling 83. heart racing

feeling 84. loverboy activities feeling 85. megumi this megumi that feeling 86. protect you feeling 87. flirt back feeling 88. wingmen feeling 89. in love with megumi allegations feeling 90. more broken feeling 91. gets shirtless again feeling 92. 1 new message!

feeling 93. protecting your peace

feeling 94. tired of waiting

last feeling. a kiss and a fight

epilogue/bonus feeling. spy

[otaku553]

Ok so I have been stewing this crossover au in my brain nonstop for the past few days and. I am nothing if not committed to the bit, so. Volume cover redraws :)

Here are the originals:

If you want to read more about my one piece spy x family crossover, keep reading!

So the idea is simple! Crossover reincarnation au where ASL is reborn in Spy x Family. They’re each born separately and none of them are born with the same names as their previous lives, and with no way of finding each other, they each find their own thing to do in the world.

Sabo, too used to the dangers of being a spy, eventually finds a cause to devote himself to again, in preventing war from engulfing the country he was reborn in. Ace, drawn to fire as he was in his previous life, used arson as a means to rob rich people for sustenance and survival, and is eventually scouted and hired by Garden as a fire specialist and assassin. And Luffy, though born in perhaps the poorest condition, grows up happily and takes whatever part time jobs he wants to do.

The thing about Sabo is that, as much as he seems like a young man of good repute and high standing within society, everyone in WISE knows that he is a massive nuisance. Nobody knew in the beginning how a child less than half the age of most of their veteran agents could have the same skills and knowledge in their profession. Sabo was— and still is— hyper competent, and by the time WISE figured out just how much of a menace to society he was, it was too late.

Ace forgot for the first few years of his new life that he wasn’t made of fire, and consequently, received multiple accidental burns. This did not deter him, however, from growing up to be a very skilled arsonist, well-practiced in every which way to start a dumpster fire or house fire. As a teenage he would use this often to draw attention as he robbed rich people blind. When he was caught, he was given an ultimatum by Garden: join them and receive payment for starting fires and causing problems under contract, or face the government and authorities for his crimes. Begrudgingly, he joined Garden, but eventually comes to appreciate that he can make substantial money in his element.

Luffy is Luffy. No telepathy or experimentation, no fancy schools, no gimmicks or secret identities. But he has still lived an extremely colorful life in this world, full of fascinating and kind individuals who have helped him grow up healthy and relatively happy. He goes where he is free, and he takes whatever part time jobs he wants in order to make the minimum he needs to survive.

Ace and Sabo find each other first, in their late teens, and neither of them realize that the other remembers their previous life, but both refuse to separate. (Sabo thinks Ace doesn’t remember, because Ace didn’t recognize him. Ace never saw Sabo grow up past 10, however, so he doesn’t recognize older Sabo immediately. By the time he does realize who exactly Sabo is, Sabo has backtracked and pretends to know Ace from a dream, or from somewhere else.)

Sabo’s attachment to Ace, predictably, causes problems between Sabo and WISE, but by then, Sabo is indispensable to the organization, and they make an exception for Sabo to be able to remain with Ace, so long as Ace never finds out what Sabo’s actual job is. Ace, on the other hand, hides his job because he doesn’t want his brother, who he has just found and who does not know Ace well enough yet, to know that he makes a living from killing people.

And they find Luffy sometime afterwards, prior to the beginning of the Spy x Family canon. Luffy figures out, not long after moving in with his brothers, both of his brothers’ secret occupations and the fact that both of them remember their past memories. He thinks it is common knowledge, however, and so he never brings it up.