#slickis

[cherry-misty]

Это должен был быть просто скетч.

В итоге целая иллюстрация к фанфику "Vision Quest".

Айкис пьет флегмонаду, это как лимонад из мира монстров.

[zimbofan]

My Doodles A!RM

[toraleistripe]

Just a reminder that I fucking LOVE him and wish he'd made more appearances in episodes

[fabuladorah]

People will say therapy is "not to make you more palatable to society but rather to help you" and then the second someone steps a little bit out of social convetions people say they should get "help"

[ryunchanstuffsblog]

To whoever in NRS had the task of making this bastard's model, you have no right in making him this hot!

[captain-amadeus]

Cat sketches

[mirielvairenen]

you wanna see someone have a textile sensory Thing with vague gender dysphoria, put me in the work shirt I'm supposed to wear tomorrow

[skyrigel]

Simon loved you in every way, he liked your sleepy soft voice and grumpy bratty smile and sweet hungry whining, he liked you in mornin nd in night, but something something about the way you looked when you were just so fucked up.

He can cum alone with the way you looked just after he'd pounded inside you, your mouth gaping with drool, eyes blown back like you were brainless, no thoughts forming except how good he made you feel, the way he pushes inside you, deeper until he finds your g-spot, thrusting like devil has taken him over, he liked how your sweet mouth didn't stop making all those obsences sounds, your ah-ah-ah synchronised with every hard pound, how needy and feral you became, your neck starting to bruise with his marks—his, breast rippling up and down and meeting his pace — his, and it was one of those times when he was admiring your feral fucked up body, that pretty brain of yours that was always thinkin and now you wouldn't even remember your own name, just Simon-Simon-Simon in a chant. So good.

He was still inside you despite painting your insides with his seed over and over, you can still feel his cum dripping down your hole, slicky noises explicitly coming as he lazily moved inside you, tormenting you. He cupped your cheek, admiring his darlin work.

“So pretty, m' baby.” He cherished, chuckling as another tear rolled down and you whimpered, your legs aching — already sliding down from his shoulder but Simon didn't let go, his hand coming to your throat where your skin was starting to purple.

“Not now..Mrs.Riley...wish ya' see how pretty you look dove.” He cooed, tracing your neck and he never choked you, he already had you so good and breathless and you have always been a sensetive girl, but it seemed right as his big veiny hand wrapped around your throat, and he could already feel the way you sucked on air and just when he squeezed, trapping your breath — your hips buckled to meet his cock, twitching inside you, Simon smirked, he didn't know you would've liked it but he should've known how much you love him, how much you love his big cock.

“Such a needy little girl.” He said, thumbing your chin up, drool slitterin down the side of your mouth, eyes blown back. Beautiful.

How much he loved you like this, so good.

Masterlist

[dmitriene]

cw: size kink, intense sex.

plink with simon riley, with your legs bent up in knees and hoisted up, hold by tight grip of calloused hands as your body jolts up with every thrust, pussy stretched wide around the fat cock that pistons in and out of your gooey heat, tight balls slapping harshly against the doughy fat of your ass.

you can feel him in your guts, cramming a place for himself between your velvety, tight walls, squelching wet with oozing slick that makes his thick cock drenched, gliding slowly and then slamming back in punishing pace with your body manhandled and having nowhere to escape.

you feel simon's beefy frame behind your back, so big while he uses you to dump a load in your pulsing pussy, peering through pale eyelashes at your head tilting back with gasping mewls and lax mouth, your eyes fluttering rapidly to chase away the glossy veil on them, breath stuttering in your chest at the brutal pace of his hips.

you can't cling to his shoulders, able only to claw weakly at his wrists, to which his blunt nails sink into your plump flesh, gripping greedily and bouncing you like a doll on his big cock, thick cockhead grazing your sweet spot with each jerk of his hips, feeding your clutching pussy every veiny inch until he cums.

simon leaves you able only to whine through pursing, drool soaked lips, little cunt leaking with your own slicky cream and his thick cum, dripping down in pearly, viscous stripes down his coarse hair and balls, staining wet and tacky as it squelch loudly when he pumps you full, right until you can't take it.

main masterlist. quidelines.

[kissitbttr]

“i’m sorry baby” simon murmurs against your warm skin, large hand coming up to palm your breast under the material of your shirt as he watches you squirm under his hold, fingers kneading your nipple.

“you hurt me, si…” you whine, doe eyes looking at him as you sniffle. “i hate you”

he hums with a nod, peeling your shirt off just enough to expose your naked chest. “i know baby, i know.. was a dick to you, yeah?”

you don’t answer, covering your face with your hands as he continues to pepper kisses down to your stomach. your quiet sobs make simon’s heart breaks.

“fucking asshole”

that almost makes him laugh, but he doesn’t. only smiles. “i was”

“a bastard you are”

he kisses your clothed cunt. “i agree.”

you shudder at the contact, whining. “careful. i just waxed there. I’m a little sensitive.”

he groans. he swears you’re doing that on purpose. “i will sweetheart.”

his fingers move to pull your laced panties down, ever so slowly. his hunger increases the moment his brown eyes settled on your pretty wet pussy.

“christ” he breathes out. “gonna make it up to you, pretty girl. i promise.” he sits up on his knees, looking down at you. glossy eyes looking up at him with a small pout formed on your lips. his cock growing hard under his briefs

‘fuck, don’t look at me like that’ he thinks to himself

puffing out a scoff, you reply “doesn’t mean I’ll forgive you for this si”

he knows. he hurt you. his pretty girl. he made you cry and that’s something he would never forgive himself too. that fight was stupid, he knows that now.

“i know, sweetheart” he pulls the waistband of his boxers slightly, just enough to take his hard cock out before hovering your body. a small gasp escapes your lips when his the tip of his shaft make a brief contact against your cunt. “i didn’t mean to make you cry. was a proper dick. hurting my baby like that, yeah? what kind of a man am i.”

he gives a soft kiss on your lips in which you hum, eyes fluttering shut. he wraps his hand around his cock, pumping it a few times before guiding it to your wet entrance while putting his other palm beside your head to support his weight.

you bite down your lower lip trying to suppress a moan when he slides the tip up and down your cunt. mumbling a low ‘fuck’ at the slicky sound of your wet cunt. another loud groan rumbles off his chest when his cock slips in. simon stays still for a while before he sits up straight, hooking his hands underneath your knees, telling you to wrap your legs around his waist.

“gonna fuck you real good, ma” the term of endearment almost makes you cum. as he begins to rock his hips back and forth. he watches you arch your back, soft hands gripping around your tits with pretty moans falling off your lips like an angelic prayer. he growls at the perfect sight, making him thrust even faster.

“show you how sorry i am”

[zimbofan]

Fake Screenshot Season 4

Ickis and Slickis His Friend

[carnallysm]

Taking it out on you.

warnings: dom! Emily, sub!fem!reader, gun play, degradation, praise, light mommy kink, lmk if i forgot something!

It wasn't uncommon for Emily to have a bad day—or even bad weeks—due to her profession. Being the Unit Chief of the BAU came with more cons than pros, if she had to be honest.

Emily didn't enjoy it, but she liked it. She liked serving and doing it for her people, her family. That didn't mean it kept the stress away. It simply meant Emily dealt with it trying to appear as composed as she possibly could, and she was good at it. Emily was good at faking being just fine not to worry others.

Nonetheless, you could tell.

Be it the way her steps echoed through the entire apartment, even scaring the poor cat Sergio away to some corner of the house; be it the frown your girlfriend was showing on her features.

You could tell it was a bad, bad case.

"Bad day?" So you asked, stopping your movements alongside the rhythm of some bad song at the radio.

"It was definitely a day," Emily responded with a large sigh, leaving her coat on the couch before stepping towards you, her hands immediately grabbing your waist tightly as Emily sank her face into the crook of your neck. "Thank God you're here." She spoke after taking in a deep breath of your essence.

"I'm always here—" But before you could finish your sentence, you felt a cold metal hugging your wrists together in a rapid movement. "What are you doing?" You questioned, not with fear but mere confusion at having your hands handcuffed so suddenly.

"You want to help me feel better, right?" At that, you did nothing but nod slightly, feeling a warmth spreading across your whole body due to the position you were in—Emily hugging you from behind, with you completely at her mercy.

"Then don't question me, understood?" Another nod, and in a second Emily had you whimpering lowly as her hands went to undo your shorts, pulling them down alongside your panties in a single second.

"I bet you're wet already, aren't you?" One of her hands went to your throat, applying enough pressure to cut off some of your air but not enough to hurt, while her other hand went straight away to cup your wetting pussy. "See, I was right after all." Emily spoke with a mocking scoff, her fingers circling your clit for a few moments, causing your breathing to become further ragged, before pulling away at once.

"Emily—" Her name left your mouth in a whiny tone, barely audible due to her left hand still restraining your air and pushing more pressure in your throat.

"I said, don't question me." Her voice came out firm, determined, and you didn't dare say anything else after that, instead yet another low moan left from you at that.

You heard some ruffling, and before you could even try to turn around and find what the sound was, Emily had took her gun out of her holster and was holding it close to your now drenched cunt.

A hint of fear appeared inside you, followed by a sensation of pure thrill and need. Unable to say anything, you opted to grind your hips a bit, desperate for Emily's touch.

"You want me that bad, hm?" Keeping the firm although mocking voice, Emily instantly pressed the tip of her gun against your drenched pussy, pushing inside you inch by inch at a torturously slow pace.

The sensation of the cold metal against your warm, slicky folds had your head falling back to rest on Emily's shoulder, your eyes almost rolling back in pleasure and the strange, terrifying and exciting tingle all at once.

"You definitely must be a different kind of slut to enjoy this." Emily said with a huffing laughter, her free hand leaving your throat and allowing you more oxygen, but it all went out when she slapped your sensitive clit while still pushing her gun into you mercilessly.

"You're going to cum on my gun, like a good dirty whore, aren't you?" Each and every word pronounced by Emily made its way directly towards your entire body, a shiver running down your spine as you felt that familiar coil settling in your lower stomach.

"Yes, fuck, Emily, please—" Another slap to your clit made you unable to finish your words once again, all the while more breathy moans escaped your lips. "Mommy, please!"

You rectified her name, knowing what Emily wanted from you at the moment, and what you needed to do to get the pleasure you so intently searched, your hips bucking against the gun now covered in your juices.

"I'll be good, mommy," You promised, and you right away felt the speed of Emily's gun pounding more fiercely into your clenching cunt. "Please."

"That's right, you're my good little slut," With that, her free hand pinched your puffy clit with enough force to tear a guttural moan from you, as you cummed in that moment thanks to Emily's skilled touch and gun-play.

As you came down slowly from your climax, your legs almost gave up and Emily had to hold you more tightly towards her, her arms wrapping around your waist after she pulled her gun back into her holster.

"You've been a good girl," Emily murmured against your ear, her breath hitting your skin and making you tremble further still. "You've been so good for me."

"I'm always here for you." You managed to reply in a breathless voice, finishing the sentence she didn't let you before.

[victoryverse]

simon and price's reactions to you going commando on a celebratory dinner after the guys are back

simon: would go feral when he would place his hand on your waist to hold you close, when you would be wearing a little black dress, made of a thin flimsy material.

he would be shocked when he doesn't feel the pantyline, and would smooth his hands there twice just to make sure.

his eyes would be blown out, gulping down hard because he knows you would be wet down there, and he would definitely punish you after for doing that

maybe it would be sooner, in the bathroom stall of the club. you would go there together, something about you not feeling well

they would nod, and the second the door would close, a sharp spank would land on your ass, making you yelp.

"oh? that stings?"

you would nod, a cute pout as he would pull the dress up, and up and up, till you would protest and want to pull it down.

"oh? is it? you want to cover yourself? just now your bum then?"

you would give him doe eyes, and he would have none of that. turn you around and been you over on the sink, but making you look at yourself in the mirror

his finger would slip inside, cunt too wet and slicky to resist. his thick digits would curl and twist, making you moan and whimper.

"like that? huh? like being a little slut?" as he drills his fingers into you, his index and middle going inside and out at an unforgiving pace.

"rub your little clit. make a fucking mess" he would command, and your shaky fingers would reach between, rubbing your puffy and swollen clit till you;re coming undone.

squirt all over the place, pools of wetness slipping out with each thrust, as he pulls his fingers out and pushes them back in.

"oh yeah, fuck, let it all out." mixed with "yeah, good girl good fucking girl" and "now, if you are needy outside, the whole club is gonna see just how bad how I want to punish you.

price: would get a hint of it because you would be all giggly and blushy while leaving the house, and he's a smart man, so...

would purposely make you sit on his lap at the club. the lights would be dim, so dim that the large tent in his pants is almost invisible.

you would be dumbfounded when he would pat his lap, knowing you were done for. you tried being mischievous, and this man would make sure you knew the consequences of it.

"c'mon baby, sit on your captain's lap" soap would tease playfully, only for you to roll your eyes at him and slowly, make your way to him.

you would try to sit only on one thigh, but he would grab your bum with his strong hands, pick you up and reposition you so your clenching hole is right above his boner.

a whisper of "you asked for it" while he would place you perfectly, a moan ripping from your lips at the hard intrusion.

"oh god" would also slip off, making them turn their heads. you would smile, but they aren't idiots, would definitely know what's going on.

"good girl. now stay like that. one grind and you're getting fucked in the backseat"

do you want that? yes. would you obey him? no. absolutely not.

the night would end with the car being parked in a dark alleyway, with windows fogged up as you rode him with all you had. hips bruised and cunt tingling from the sensations.

"don't you dare stop. you brought this on yourself" while he fucks up into you, his pubes and leg hairs all wet from your arousal. plenty of it would run down continuously, wetting and making a mess everywhere.

not that he would care. would suck on your nipples while you would push up and down on his cock, his tip brushing against your spongey spots with each thrust.

you would feel him in your stomach, his cock rearranging your insides and making your mind go fucked.

when he would cum, would flood your pussy with it, making you clench hard to hold it in. then, he would make you sit beside him while he drove back home.

"the seat should be dry when we get home. no wet patch or I'll hide all your panties tonight. none to wear when you;re getting ready for office tomorrow.

[vanteguccir]

really sweet fluffy smut with chris fucking reader while she’s wearing his freshlove hoodie 🩷🩷🩷

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤFRESH LOVE HOODIE * CHRIS STURNIOLO * BLURB

SUMMARY　::　where Chris is fucking Y/N deep and rough while she wears his blue fresh love hoodie

FEATURING　Chris Sturniolo x reader

WARNINGS　::　SMUT (mdni)

AUTHOR'S NOTE　::　that is my work, I DON'T authorize any form of plagiarism; copy, "inspiration" or translation! | english isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error

Chris’s breathing was heavy and uneven as he hovered over Y/N, who was sprawled beneath him on the bed. Her upper body was decorated by his baby blue Fresh Love hoodie, the fabric soft and comforting against her skin, brushing gently against his own chest. His eyes darkened with desire, the sight of her in his brand turning him on in ways he hadn’t expected. He traced the outline of her body through the hoodie with his fingertips, sending shivers down her spine.

His cock moved inside her with a slow, deliberate rhythm. Every thrust was deep and meaningful, his hips pressing forward until the swollen head of his cock bruised her cervix, making her gasp for air each time. The sensation of him filling her so completely sent electric pulses through her body, making her arch and writhe beneath him.

"D'you have any idea how sexy you look right now?" He leaned in, his lips brushing against her ear, his voice a low, gravelly whisper that sent shivers down her spine. "Seeing you in my hoodie- knowing you’re mine, drives me fucking crazy."

Y/N’s breath hitched, a soft moan escaping her lips as she felt his words vibrate through her. Chris’s hands continued traveling over her body, sliding under the hoodie to caress her bare skin, squeezing the soft skin. His touch was gentle, yet possessive, igniting a fire within her. His cock, hard and throbbing, pressed deeply into her core, making her feel every vein against her warm walls.

He moved slowly, savoring every inch as she gasped and moaned, her body arching to meet his.

"Hmm, that’s it, baby." He praised, his voice thick with lust. "Y'feel so good. So perfect for me."

Her moans grew louder, her hands gripping the grey sheets as he maintained his pace. He wanted to savor every moment, to drive her to the edge and back. His lips found her neck, kissing and sucking, leaving a trail of marks that claimed her as his.

"Chris-" She whimpered, her voice trembling with need as her right hand went to his hair, gripping his messy strands, pressing his face against her neck. "Please, don’t stop. It feels so good. Y'feel so fuckin' good."

His hands moved down to her hips, holding her steady and pressing her lower body in a bruisingly way against the mattress with force as he continued his deep, slow thrusts. He could feel her slicky walls tightening around him, her body responding to every movement.

"You’re doing so well, you’re just a little thing f'me to please aren’t you, petal?" Chris muttered with a mockingly voice, feeling her pull his hair desperately in a way to ground herself.

"Fu-uck Chris, yes! Yes, yes- Oh my God." Y/N moaned, nodding repeatedly without a single straight thought in her mind, her eyes rolling in pleasure.

She felt numb with ecstasy, her head clouded with the intensity of it all. She moaned and whined all the time, her sounds echoing in the room, going straight to Chris's dick.

The heat running through Y/N's body started to caught on full fire, and without thinking, she reached to pull off the hoodie, desperate for some relief from the overwhelming sensations. But Chris caught her hands roughly in an instant, pinning them above her head.

"No." He ordered firmly, his eyes locking onto hers with an intensity that made her pulse quicken. "Keep it on."

"But- shit... it's so hot." She whined, her voice a mix of frustration and need. She was burning up, every nerve ending alight with sensation.

"Shhh, I know." Chris replied with the start of a cocky smile. "I want to see you wearing it. I want to see what's mine using something I created." His hands remained in her wrists, holding them gently but firmly, preventing her from removing the hoodie.

Her eyes fluttered for a second with the rough sensation of his fingers against her wrist combined with his rough and ownership words, meeting his gaze. The intensity of his stare, combined with the raw emotion in his voice, made her pulse race even faster. She nodded, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps.

"Okay." She nodded, her voice barely audible.

Chris’s lips curved into a satisfied smile.

"Good girl." He praised, his tone soft. He resumed his slow, deep thrusts, his movements becoming more urgent, driven by his desire to see her fall apart.

Her moans became desperate, her body trembling as she neared her climax.

"Chris, I’m so-o close." She cried, her voice a high-pitched whine.

He leaned down, his lips brushing against her ear again.

"Cum for me, baby. I want to feel you. Let go and show me how good it feels."

With his words, she was sent over the edge. Her body convulsed with pleasure, her moans turning into cries of ecstasy. Chris held her close, his own orgasm following shortly after, his name a reverent whisper on her lips making his cock twitch inside her warm walls.

"Wear my hoodie again if you want me to turn you into a pretty brainless doll, yeah?"

© vanteguccir

[doumadono]

hiii!!

hope it's okay if i request a little something for sinful sunday (i'm 19)

would it be okay to ask for dumbification kink with aizawa?

thank you anyway!

SINFUL SUNDAY

The room echoes with nothing but your sweet moans and Shota's heavy breaths, well, if you discount the occasional creaking of a wooden desk, wet noises and the enticing sound of skin slapping against skin.

The ceaseless clinking of his leather belt buckle coaxes forth a weighty sob from the depths of your throat, a blend of lust and despair intertwining. The anticipation in your belly unravels at a leisurely pace, and the looming orgasms skulk back into their corners, denied their moment of reckoning yet.

"Love, come on," your endeavor to pull Shota closer is abruptly thwarted. "H-Harder."

Aizawa's rhythmic thrusts into your dripping core momentarily erase any grasp on how limbs and words function. Instead, he intertwines his fingers with yours, directing your hands back beneath his grasp, once again pinning them above your head as they were just moments ago. "Apologies, love," his snicker drips with wicked delight, "but this time, you're not the one setting any rules here."

Even in your half-defunct state of senses, you sense the man leaning over you, your leg draped over his shoulder feeling the stretch of his movement – and then he pauses as he reaches his intended destination. A sharp nip to your earlobe clears the fog, and as his tongue glides over the tingling skin, a ragged mewl escapes you. "S-Shota!"

"You're familiar with the rules, baby," Shota purrs into your ear, his silky voice contrasting sharply with your disheveled state. He remains nestled in the crook of your neck, thrusting harder into your dripping core at a new angle. Pulling you into a fervent kiss, he licks into your mouth with unbridled lust. "I'm in charge. Your only job is to sing for me. Just the way I like it the most. That's it, kitten."

Aizawa gazes into your bewildered eyes, a smile so sweet and angelic that, for a moment, you almost buy into the idea that he's about to make things smoother for you, especially as he releases your arms.

Frantically, you search for something to grasp onto, an opportunity to seize control, to set the pace — but your autonomy is short-lived.

A hefty glob of saliva makes a precise landing on your swollen clitoris, followed by the nimble, skillful fingers of your husband working the drool around your sensitive bundle of nerves.

"O-Ooooo," your lips form a perfect "O" as you cast a gaze up at Shota with teary eyes; a solitary tear makes its way down your flushed cheek, landing on your naked breast.

"You brought this upon yourself, didn't you," Shota coos into the air, delivering a few playful slaps to your slicky folds, followed by an indulgent rubbing that elicits an arch in your back toward him. "My little, naive girl didn't think things through, hmmm? What did you expect when you sauntered in here in that skimpy skirt, tempting fate by presenting your beautiful ass while filing documents into a cabinet, hmm? I've had a taxing day, dealing with class 1-A for just an hour, and I needed a release for the accumulated stress. And what better way to do that than fucking with my stunning wife?" The black-haired man mused.

You're itching to protest, to inform him that he could exercise more self-control and that you didn't intentionally provoke this.

However, as he resumes relentlessly pounding your throbbing and drenched pussy, hoisting both your legs over his muscular shoulders, and murmuring about your brainlessness for him, your comebacks meet an untimely demise. All you can manage is to nod along with the intensity of his thrusts, fervently moaning, "m-more, mo-more, moooore, p-please, p-please, p-please, Shota."

Aizawa's momentum doesn't show any signs of slowing down, a primal rhythm that vividly illustrates the depth of his own arousal. Shota thrusts into you with precision, a raw hunger guiding every move. His robust arm envelops your thighs as you plant your heels atop his shoulders, and Shota tenderly glides his calloused hand up and down the plush, warm skin, squeezing wherever he pleases, urging your legs closer to his chest adorned with a long-sleeved, black shirt. With each forceful thrust, with every instance his rock-solid cock glides against your tender, spongy walls, his midnight-black, tousled locks cascade onto his forehead, a few damp strands clinging to his temples.

With a final cry, your orgasm crashes over you, a powerful force that brings forth unintentional tears. "O-Oh! Shota! Yes!"

Shota relentlessly pursues his own climax, the tight grip of your pussy on his member leaving him little room for endurance. He only relents when he's completely spent, his cum erupting deep in your warmth. Soon, the man's leaning forward to press a little kiss to your forehead.

You both are panting, and you're left undeniably senseless.

"I never asked for this, you little devil," you playfully scold the man, earning a small snort from him.

"Mhm, yeah, sure, I'll believe you, kitten. We both know well you're the one with the insatiable desires in our marriage."

Your mouth drops open with a loud gasp, a frown appearing on your forehead as he assists you off his desk, handing you your clothes. "Excuse me, Shota, you're just making things up now. You're the needy one. If you weren't, we wouldn't have… done that… now, in the teachers' lounge…"

He helps you get dressed and presentable again, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "It doesn't matter, kitten. Thank you for helping me ease the stress down."

[lovelaetter]

dubcon (?)

gosh her crying because she's so sore. like, she can barely feel anything, but she still can at the same time because it's the most gut-rearranging pounding she's ever hard. but what does she know? you've always taught her you know best. "no, no, don't cry, 'jeongie," even tho you're 100% going faster now, her tear-stained face is almost as if varnish was being poured over a renaissance painting.

she can barely taste the salt of her tears as well, her own panties stuffed in her mouth because she promised she could be quiet. pretty girl, so sure of herself even tho she regrets it every time. well, her body does, with how bad she's marked up from your nails and bites and 'caressing', even tho her mind is always screaming for round 2.

her cheeks are so perfectly colored as well. this pastel rosy color spreading all over her face and down her neck because she's practically gagging on her sobs and she's so embarrassed that she's still so drenched. "you're taking it so well, baby." she's supposed to play the role of the perfect lover, taking everything so well, and even tho she thinks she isn't, you couldn't be happier to have her struggling under you.

even when her fighting dies out and she just absentmindedly sobs in a mixture of pure satisfaction and pain and betrayal. can't you tell that she's tired? her cunt aches, she can't take any more, her brain is all fuzzy and barely thinking! gosh, she would push you off, but the guilt of upsetting you would be worse than sucking it up and taking her 'reward'.

minjeong might be a bit angry later, her makeup ruined. she insists she's fine, but you're not a monster after all—it wouldn't keep her around if you indulged so far—and staring at her pouty face makes you want to doll her up again, so you do. comfort her and play your own version of the 'perfect lover role': keeping her cherished and happy and stuffed.

but how is it your fault anyway? she never said her safeword. that makeshift gag made sure of it.

signed by ☃️

for context.

DUBCON.

funny how it’s been so long and i’m still thinking about this. telling her you know best? about herself? top tier. shushing her cries claiming she can take more, there’s no need for tears, in no world you would do something that she couldn’t handle. poor baby, thinking she isn’t the perfect lover for showing supposed weakness and that’s exactly what makes her perfect, but that how you like her, defenseless and weak, no forces to fight you other than barely wrapping her arms around your neck and giving you this desperate look, to which you only answer by giving a kiss to her forehead… how gentle.

aftercare that is almost nonexistent because you keep touching the visible sensitive parts of her, cupping her breasts— “does it hurt, baby? i’m sorry” but your hand doesn’t move away— during a bath, fingers ghosting over her sore cunt, mumbling “wish i could keep you like this [sore, slicky, numb] forever” more to yourself than anything else or gripping too harshly her bruised waist and thighs while dressing her, apologizing with a chuckle.

i love me some crying girls :/