Known as the the lover girl, on a mission to build her perfect world. Do you wanna play?
m.list â rules â ao3 â talk to me
â recently...
learn a lesson from zayne
don't you ever wonder what's in the lads boys pants?
discover sylus's hidden playful side
xavier teaching you to play guitar
does he watch pornâhow does he jerk off?
â stay and play...
#jupiter`~writes: everything i write :)
#jupiter`~rambles: yap
#jupiter`~recs: i repost a ton
18+ sylus drops to his knees every time he manages to upset you
anywhere, anytime - he couldn't care less.
much like this fleeting moment.
"don't stop me" he implores - his voice just above a whisper.
it's slow, deliberate - almost torturous - the way he sinks to his knees, in front of you. the raw, crimson fire behind his eyes burned every inch of your flesh, his gaze holding you hostage in his personal descent to the pits of hell.
a barmy, nearly deranged 'thud' whips though the stagnant, closet room air. his body stills. his muscles scream, shout, beg for mercy. trembling and painfully stretching under the immense force of his resolution. sylus looks up at you - his massive frame pitifully hunched backwards, allowing you to see every quivering inch of his regret.
his arms dangle lifelessly, by his sides - as though hollowed out, devoid of every purpose. his big, slender fingers twitch; spasming in a yearning, debauched dance.
"touch me," he soughs - brushing the ghost of his lips against the soft, silky skin of your forefinger. "please, grant me the weight of your presence"
"sylus . ." you sigh - feeling every millimetre of restraint and anger rapidly drift away from the depth of your system.
reluctantly, you rest a hand over his face, sluggishly caressing the sharp, rough edges of his jaw. sylus moans into your touch - eyes shamelessly rolling in the back of his skull as the faintest of frictions settles, like the prettiest of snowflakes, over his searing flesh.
"fuck, harder" a guttural, bestial growl rumbles in his throat, the second his face buries into the iciness of your naked palm. you gasp, biting your desires into the plush of your bottom lip, as soon as his evol slithers around your body. vivid, almost incandescent spikes of red creep, like untameable vines, across your arm. guiding, no pushing your hand closer, deeper over his face. "let me feel you"
your finger close around the prominent, defined arch of his jaw. cupping his face into 'your' hold, you lead his face closer to your body, letting the moonlit arch of his nose scrape against the lacy texture of your dress.
"huh, that's it â fuuuck, let me properly apologise to you, kitten" a filthy, crazed smiles wildly tugs at his lips. "put it all on me, yeah? let me be the bearer of you anger â fuckin' use me"
without wasting another precious second, sylus clasps one of his enormous hand over your thigh. coddling, squeezing your flesh in between the famished hold of his fingers. without ever breaking the erotic encounter between your eyes, he lowers his head. grazing his teeth over your thigh, white, feathery strands of hair tickle your sensitive flesh.
he bites his mark, deep into your system.
you gasp, abandoning your head to rest against the firm wooden frame of the door - entwining your fingers around the faint, almost useless strap of your dress.
biting back a pathetic, pitchy whine, he lifts your leg upwards, hiking your trembling limb over his broad, muscular shoulder. in a heartbeat, he dives his face in between your thighs, grinding the bridge of his nose over your swollen nub.
"'m sorry," he mumbles.
in a wretched, despair filled motion, he uncovers the hidden, heavenly form of your pussy. his lips close around your clit, harshly sucking the little, hardening nub into the darkness of his mouth.
his tongue laps, grinds, dances across your drenched folds - gathering every bit of your nectarine juices.
he begs for forgiveness in every possible tongue: his syrupy voice, laced with nothing but you - every liquid part, that is. his tongue, that moves like the filthiest of pleas - tracing those precise, unmistakable seven letters across the quivering, throbbing mess of your folds: 'I'm sorry'.
â±â ââ ZAYNE is just a perfect husband, even more than they know.
â±â ââ MDNI just horny thoughts about zayne, once again.
"Zayne is such a wonderful husband."
The entire hospital knows of the mystery lady who seems to be the only thing more important to the man than surgery itself. The one who, if you ask about the cute homemade bento box or a cup of caramel coffee (with whipped cream on top) and a sticky note on the side, will say, âmy wife got it for me,â with a smile that you might have thought impossible for him to make.
"Zayne is such a wonderful husband."
Even your apartment neighbors know him as such, the sweet elderly lady on your left always greeting him with a hug and a coy smile, asking what goodies he brought for you today. Itâs his own fault, really, always bringing back a new bouquet of flowers, groceries he noticed you running out of, or a new pile of books you begged him to pick up from the library on his way over.Â
"Zayne is such a wonderful husband."
Especially in your eyes.Â
Especially when heâs been stuck in the hospital or on a god-forsaken business trip, pushed away from you for days (although he insists anything more than 24 hours is unbearable enough), and nothing can keep him from you once he returns.
Heâs such a wonderful husband, especially when he has you on your back, gasping for air and mercy you donât want as he forces your legs up higher, quivering thighs shoved against your chest.Â
Itâs hot, too hot, and not even Zayneâs Evol can keep up, sweat making long black strands stick to his forehead, dripping down his neck and back as you claw against every ripping muscle there, incoherent, burning up from the inside as you beg for more and more and more.Â
You were a mess already, undone by an hour prior of tortuously delicate touching, Zayneâs tongue giving unwavering attention to your clit and nipples, building you up until you practically ripped his pants off and demanded that he be inside you. Not that he could ever refuse you.Â
Now you think it might have been a mistake, feeding an insatiable beast.Â
Youâve already cum on his fingers, and yet you feel something build again, a pressure that feels more like a complete loss of control, intense and overwhelming as you gasp into Zayneâs neck, scrambling to push him off even as his hips fuck into yours.Â
âWait,â a moan, muffling yourself into your palm as Zayneâs thumb goes to your poor abused clit again, misreading your blabbering as an indication youâre close. âWait! No, no, itâs not. It feels different, justââÂ
Finally, he freezes. Pulls out, and immediately drops to his stomach, large hands pushing your thighs to your shoulders, tongue already at your cunt. âDonât stop me.âÂ
The please at the end of his sentence is swallowed by a guttural groan as he tastes you again, rich, heady, intoxicating. His eyes, half-open and lovedrunk, were locked on your face, never leaving, drinking in your unraveling expressions with terrifying devotion as you writhe and arch desperately into his mouth.
âThatâs it, love,â he leaves a kiss on your shaking legs before forcing you to hold them up yourself, his fingers immediately curl inside you. The horrible pressure in your stomach coils tighter, threatening to explode. âThatâs it, good girl. Youâre doing so good for me. Fuck.âÂ
And then his tongue joins his fingers, gently circling your clit as his fingers mercilessly piston in and out of you until they hit a spot that makes you scream. Everything inside you convulses, a violent, helpless shudder that rips a delirious sob from your chest as something bursts. You feel it even as the world spins, thighs and ass slippery and filthy as the obscene sounds of skin on skin are magnified, covered only with Zayneâs low, guttural moans, swallowing everything you give him.Â
He canât stop, panting against your cunt, leaving kisses and licking the spray of your release up your abdomen before heâs hovering atop you once more.
âAgain.â
Zayne flips you over, hands bruising your ass and waist in ways that make your eyes roll back, a moan ripping from you as Zayneâs hand pulls on your hair, forcing your limp head off the pillow and back, lips meeting yours in a wet, sloppy kiss that has saliva and sweat running down your throat. You think you might be losing consciousness or maybe just your sanity, but gods, you never want this to stop.
Jupe !! I am missing you and hope youâve been taking care and having a wonderful holiday season. I love you my beautiful friend đ€
HAZEL!!!! HI MY LOVE! I have been well I hope you been well and have a wonderful holiday! I definitely will :0 but I must update youâŠ. my lads account got deleted and everytime I try to log in it literally wonât let me đđđđ BUT I HOPE YOUR GAME IS MUCH BETTER AND YOU GET EVERY CARD THAT YOU WANT :333
Reblog this if you want readers to come into your ask box and ask for the âdirectorâs commentaryâ on a particular story, section of a story, or set of lines.Â
Or, send in a âstarâ to have the author select a section theyâve been dying to talk about!
I SOOOOOOO LOVE THE WAY HE MOVES!! The animation looks god tier in this card you can really tell they put a lot of effort into even the smallest details.
Not only does his tail look so regal and beautiful the movements are so fluid!? Oh not to mention his hip movent is so freaking SEXY LIKE DAYUM I could watch that for hooours. me next I mean what
Much earned kudos to his hair as well! The long hair is first of all STUNNING. And the flowy effect in the water is so well done!
