Axescryinwater - Fynor

lil galentines treat

i don't know who needs to hear this but the avs are about to commit seasonal violence

OK.

SHE BROKE THE GOLF CLUB???

I NEED TO BE SHOT 😂😂😂😂😂

clark’s 6’3 soooo yk 🙂‍↕️

“Been waiting all night for you, you know that?” As you pulled your shirt over your head, Clark's hands were already working at the buttons of his own shirt. He settled between your legs, the heat of his bare skin pressing against yours. He positioned himself at your entrance, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he fought to maintain control. With a single, powerful thrust, he sheathed himself inside you, stretching and filling you completely.

A guttural moan escaped his lips at the sensation of your tight cunt enveloping him. He paused for a moment, allowing you both to adjust to the intensity of the connection. Then he began to move, setting a relentless pace as he drove into you again and again. Clark's hands gripped your hips, holding you in place as he claimed you with a ferocity that bordered on desperation. His lips found yours once more, kissing you deeply, hungrily, as if trying to devour you whole.

Clark leaned back, pulling you with him as he shifted positions. He brought your hips up, angling your body so that he could drive deeper, hitting that sweet spot inside you with each powerful thrust. The new position allowed him to watch your face, to see the pleasure etched on your features as he claimed you. His hands gripped your thighs, spreading you wider as he pounded into you with increasing intensity.

“You're so pretty like this, so perfect.” He could feel your body tensing, your breath coming in short gasps. Clark's hips slowed slightly as he felt your body strain beneath him. “Are you okay?” he asked, concern lacing his voice. “Do you need me to stop?”

You shook your head, your breath coming in short gasps. “No, don't stop,” you managed to say. “It's just...so much.” A slow, satisfied smile spread across Clark's face.

“Takin’ me so well,” he panted, his hips picking up the pace once more. “Look at how deep I am.” His eyes ogled down to the bulge his cock was creating in your belly. With a low groan, he pressed his hand against it, feeling the hard length of himself moving within you.

His thrusts became more deliberate, more focused, as he chased his release. His hand remained on your belly, feeling the way your body yielded to his, taking every inch of him. “Give it to me baby, I wanna feel you cum.”

Clark felt your body clench around him, your inner walls pulsing and contracting as you reached your orgasm. Your cry of his name echoed in the room, a sound of pure ecstasy that made his dick twitch inside of you. Your release triggered his own, and with a final, powerful thrust, Clark buried himself deep inside you. His body tensed, his muscles coiling tight as he spilled thick ropes of cum deep within your aching cunt.

Clark rolled off of you, his body still humming with the aftershocks of his orgasm. He couldn't help the slick smile that spread across his face as he lay beside you, his eyes stared up at the ceiling.

His mind reeled back to the bulge he created in your tummy and the way his hand had pressed against your skin, feeling himself inside you. The affirmation wrapped around him like a warm coat, feeding a part of him he rarely acknowledged. He wasn’t one to dwell on vanity, but in that moment, he couldn’t help himself.

For once, he let his ego revel, if only for a little while.

okay powerplay time to pretend we're gonna shoot for 1 minute and 58 seconds

the fuck

pricefield au but max is steve and chloe is garrett from the minecraft movie

MINORS DNI 18+

ANAKIN SKYWALKER has a bad habit of going all night. He’s aware of the values of rest, he knows he has responsibilities to attend to the next day that require a clear head, and yet he cannot refuse you. Not that there’s a request to be denied, but when you stand there in your long nightgown in the Coruscant apartment you share, how can he ponder anything other than tricking you out of it? He’ll sweet talk you, croon, hold you close and charm you out of your clothes. He’ll have you bare and riding him on the couch, toying with your pretty tits in his hands while you bounce on his every aching inch. He’ll consume you, intoxicate you with his scent and his desire, he’ll be your every thought while he slithers in and out of your mind, abusing the force to bend your wills and train you into ecstasy. You writhe on the bed you share with him, tangling a mess of sheets in your throes of passion. Your claws sink into the soft down of your comforter while his weight lays on your back, pinning you to the mattress as he soothes your hot insides, fucking you from behind tightly knitted while his hand brushes back your sweaty hair from your forehead. His lips murmur against your cheek as your delicate countenance twists in something akin to anguish. He would pity you, if only you were truly in pain. Instead, you cry out in the heat of your climax, the evidence pooling out from between your legs. How can he refuse the night hours, when this is his only chance to fully indulge in the pleasures of your exquisite beauty?

｡⋆𖦹.✧˚──

you haven't heard from him in weeks. you'd gotten used to the silences. back when he was rising, when the news ran his name in red bold letters. the hood. the new kingpin. the man with a demon’s voice. he'd disappear and reappear with blood on his hands and wild in his eyes, and you'd patch him up, swallow your fear, and pretend he was still the guy who used to fall asleep with his head on your lap watching late night cartoons. but this time's different. this time, when he shows up, it's not at your door, it's in your dreams.

the room melts around you in flickers of red flame, the air stinks of sulfur and rain, and when you look up, he's standing there. thinner than you remember. ragged. his cloak wrapped too tight around his frame like it's choking him.

"parker?" your voice is small in the dream. maybe because you know it’s not a dream at all. he doesn’t speak at first. just looks at you like he’s trying to remember who you are.

“you said you wouldn’t use the demon again,” you whisper.

his grin is tight, bitter. “and you said you’d stay if i stopped killing people.”

you flinch. it’s not the words. it’s how casually he throws them.

“what the hell happened to you?”

he steps closer, and the floor sizzles under his boots. “i lost. everything. norman’s gone. the stones are gone. my crew’s scattered. i’m just a guy again. just parker. and parker doesn’t win.”

you shake your head. “that’s not true. you’re not—”

“don’t do that.” his voice cuts. too sharp. too tired. “don’t lie to me just because you loved who i used to be.”

you want to reach for him, but the cloak moves on its own now. it snarls at you. maybe it always hated you.

“you don’t have to keep going like this,” you say. “you could come back. try again. start over.”

he laughs. it’s dry, like ash. “you don’t come back from what i’ve done.”

“then why are you here?” you ask, voice breaking.

he finally looks up. his eyes are glowing red. not from the cloak. not from the demon. this time it’s just rage. grief. exhaustion.

“…i wanted to remember what it felt like. to be near you. to want to be better.”

your breath catches. he’s close now. you can smell the blood, the sweat, the fire that clings to his skin. he leans in. just barely touches his forehead to yours.

you wake up choking on air. sheets soaked. heart hollow. you check the window. it’s still locked. but there's soot on the sill.