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MICKEY AND IAN ARE SO FUCKING PETTYYYY IM GONNA EAT THEM ALIVE

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well. goddammit. fucking shit. uhm. this post fucking aged well. season fucking ten mickey goddammit. fuck. okay. O k a y. fuck it All what Ever. fine. Fine she knew what she was talking about. what the fuck ever.

showed my friend a tiktok of ian and mickey and she went “oh. oh you’re so mickey coded” and IM?? THE VOLUME MISS MA’AM. THIS BUS IS SMALL KEEP IT THE FUCK DOWN BABES.

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I Told You So - Dabi

A/N: I’ll admit this is not my best work, but it’s something. 

Prompt/s Used: Person A got into a fight, even though person B told them not to do it, but person B still takes care of them afterwards. / Did it hurt?

You should have listened to your boyfriend when he said you were going to regret it. You knew deep down he was right, but you were so enraged and didn’t want to take it out on Dabi, so you went picking a fight with a few street rats. It was a low blow, and you knew that, but Dabi was out for the evening and you needed to release built up anger.

So here you were, limping back to the LoV hideout, bruises and scrapes covering your body. Blood dripped from a cut on your eyebrow into your eye, and you rubbed at it as you pulled open the door to the main entrance. The room was dimly lit by moonlight sneaking in past curtains, and it smelled musty. You sniffed as you limped into the room.

“Y/N?” You looked up to see Dabi standing in the hall, giving you a knowing look. You immediately knew he was going to make fun of you and say ‘I told you so’. However, his brows furrowed slightly with worry. “Come here.” He reached out, wrapping an arm around you so you could lean against him. Dabi led you to his private bathroom, gently lifting you to sit on the countertop. 

The villain smirked at you. “Did it hurt?”

You responded by flipping him off, then kicking him gently when he bent down to rummage through the cabinet for a first-aid kit. “Like hell.”

“Was it worth it?”

“Totally.”

Dabi stands with the first-aid kit in hand, beginning by wiping the blood from your face and tending to the cut on your forehead first. The antiseptic burns, causing you to wince slightly. “Don’t be a baby,” Dabi said quietly, dressing the wound before moving on to the much smaller cuts on your arms and legs. When he was done, he pressed a quick kiss to your lips before tossing the first-aid kit aside and picking you up. You let him, resting your head on his shoulder. Dabi carried you to his room and tossed you into the bed.

You giggled, sliding under the covers as Dabi flopped down beside you. He wrapped an arm around your waist and slid his other one under your head. You snuggled up to him, enjoying his warmth. Within minutes you were fast asleep. The last thing you remember hearing before falling asleep was a soft, “I told you so.”

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MICKEY MICKEY MIECK YEMICKEY MICKEY MICKEY MICKEY MICKEY J CHOKED ON MY SMOKE IM CRYKNG BABY FUCK HI FUCKING HELL HELLO FUCK FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFJCKFICKFUCKCUFJCICJCUJ

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ian with black hair ian with black hair ian with balackvhairianwithebaclhairnsckcndnwxkcndndcncndnskxskajsbebfngnvkdnsnfnjvjdnsnsmckcnsnsncjcndnskcjfnsnanajcjcndmskzmcdnns call me mickey im fucking salivating

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bruhhhhHhhHhHhHhHahhfnfnfngnrnnnnnnn. bruh. Bruhhhh. all of season seven: only Crummmmbs of mickey content. NONE IN SEASON EIGHT. IM GONNA PERISH YALL. IMMA DO IT. FLIPPING TABLES SMASHING PICTURE FRAMES RIPPING DOORS OFF HINGES. IM GOING INSANE.

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wHERE. THE. FUCK. IS. MICKEY. GODDAMN IT FEELS LIKE ITS BEEN A FUCKING MILLENIA. WHAT THE FUUUUUCK THIS IS TORTURE. I GET MY IAN CONTENT BUT SHIT. I MISS THE PUNTABLE ASSHOLE.

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showed my friend a tiktok of ian and mickey and she went “oh. oh you’re so mickey coded” and IM?? THE VOLUME MISS MA’AM. THIS BUS IS SMALL KEEP IT THE FUCK DOWN BABES.

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Ride Me, Baby-Dabi Drabble

*Gender neutral reader, dry humping, orgasms, slight exhibitionism, softcore smut???, mentions of condoms, swearing, virginity, sexual fantasies, just Dabi being inexperienced but so damn pretty too

Tags:@the-milk-anon, @mossy-opal, @doumadono

Dabi cursed under his breath as his head fell back against the couch, bucking his hips against yours, his hands gripping onto your hips, feeling the denim under his palms.

You weren't any better-you had your hoodie off, just in a shirt and jeans like him, kissing his neck and collarbones heatedly, your moans and whimpers in his ears sounding better than any song he'd ever heard on the radio.

The League members were due back from the mission anytime now, but due to Dabi overusing his Quirk yesterday, it was too much, so begrudgingly Shigaraki let him stay back with you.

It wasn't a secret that you and Dabi were dating, but you were pretty sure Toga and Compress had placed bets that you guys would have sex while they were gone-damn the Quirk excuse.

You knew Dabi was a virgin, but you didn't want to push anything he wasn't ready for.

'Fuck, just like that, babe.' He panted, rolling his hips against yours, chasing the heat surging through his body, before taking your mouth again.

The lemonade you'd brought back the other day is sweet in your mouth, tasting like sunshine and warmth.

You wasted no time, giving back every bit of desperation and friskiness he was giving you, winding your fingers into his hair.

The couch in the bar area was fairly visible, so if any of them were to walk in, boy would they have a sight.

You, on his lap, both of you absolutely wrecked from making out and grinding shamelessly on each other.

He'd like to think that he'd chuckle and give them a show, maybe show them how he wanted to make you go crazy-or, he'd glare and cover you with his hoodie, not allowing them to see the both of you.

Like this, he can imagine what you'd look like, nude, nothing in the way except for a rubber between the both of you, riding him. Grinding yourself over him, touching and rubbing on him as much as you liked, your lips and skin on his.

Your moans and his grunts and gasps the only sounds to be heard in the room, currently smelling of pure sex.

How you'd grind notably faster, harder against him as your climax approached, the rise and fall of your chest, how he'd buck his hips rapidly against you, slamming his length against the spot that made you mewl when he used his fingers on you-

His choked grunt and your moans collided as you muffled his sounds with your mouth, moving slower now to ease the both of you, panting into his mouth.

Dabi broke away, grimacing slightly at the warm cum against his skin.

'Thank you, babe.' He gasped out, but you only smirked mischievously. 'Seriously, thank you. I loved that.'

You're panting too. If anything, you're a much better actor than him, but looking no less wrecked from making out and grinding.

'You're welcome Dabi. You're pretty when you cum.'

Without another word, you got off, leaning into his side, kissing over his skin as you both calmed down. There's a wet spot on the front of his jeans where he finished, but he can't find it in himself to get up now. He wants to at least bask in the afterglow a bit longer, gather himself a bit before the members come back.

No sense in giving them the disgust and satisfaction of seeing the two of you looking like you hadn't just dry-humped each other and made out while they were gone.

'How long until the boss gets back?' He swallowed, his heart hammering, and you checked your phone, having had it off when the League members had left. For obvious reasons.

At that moment, the door sounded with a rapid knock, followed by Shigaraki's rough voice, 'Guys, open up! If you're not fucking each other, at least answer the door right away!'

'Crap. Get upstairs and change, I'll get the door, go!' You ordered, and you and Dabi sprinted your seperate ways.

Hopefully they hadn't heard what you two were doing, right?

Oh, how wrong you were.

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Dabi loves to wake you up with kisses, he just loves to see your puffy face and hear your raspy morning voice. He thinks you're adorable and he just wanna squish your face:(

His kisses start gently and feather like, but slowly as you're not waking up they start to be more aggressive. Each time pressing lips a little harder then the previous kiss (but obv not hard enough to hurt) and also his kisses start to become more and more loud and wet. He's specially licking his lips just to annoy you.

But if you're still not awake, he'll straight up get out of the bed, get on top of it and pull you by your legs up in the air(or as much as he can but he's a strong bbygirl so I'm pretty sure he can) and starts wiggling your body in the air, laughing at you squirming like a fish.

After that you're probably awake:)

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Reblogs comments and likes are highly appreciated!!<3 cya!!

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I’m not even playing y’all mickey makes me so………..como se dice UNHINGED. meanwhile ian makes me feel so fucking viscerally seen and in what fUCKIN ECONOMY IS THIS FAIR.

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Dabi with Physical Touch

tags: gender neutral reader, touch starvation, touch aversion, trust issues, enemies to friends to lovers, sfw, fluff, slight angst

🩸 Dabi who’s the resident unapproachable tough guy in the LOV who keeps everyone an arms length away.

🩸 Dabi who fights the urge to hold a pillow to himself while in bed, ultimately leaving the unused pillow across from him the entire night and many nights after.

🩸 Dabi who smokes a cigarette against a railing, fingers brushing over his knuckles in an unconscious soothing motion as he wonders what the fuck he did wrong.

🩸 Dabi who leans against the headboard imagining arms around him he has never known unless he’d pushed himself to fainting. And even then…they’re arms he doesn’t care to be in.

🩸 Dabi who’s so touch starved he becomes touch averse to a degree—all despite knowing if he were held he might just feel himself piece back together; might just think he’s worthy of the fucking air he breathes.

🩸 Dabi who shrugs off any hug and fights not scratching the phantom pressure lingering on his skin.

🩸 Dabi who only wears the softest of clothes that won’t catch on his staples or his skin just wrong. Dabi who stole the smoothest leather he could find just to tear apart and stitch back together to wear in a fucked up reflection of his heart.

🩸 Dabi who watches the new addition to the LOV with intense, sharp azures.

🩸 Dabi who makes you feel like he’s just waiting for you to slip up, to fuck up a mission. Dabi who grates your nerves as much as that unnerving grin that splits staples lining half his face.

🩸 Dabi who you catch sight of in baggy black sweatpants and an oversized grey hoodie at four in the morning with tangled hair. Dabi who wears glasses he hadn’t taken off when he left his room for a glass of water when pausing in a chapter of his most recent read.

🩸 Dabi who scoffs at the shocked look you give in turn to his casual attire.

🩸 Dabi who’s gaze only seems to sharpen further on you when he realizes you’re a core addition to the LOV’s end goal. Dabi who sneaks into your next mission like a perpetual shadow to see you on the field.

🩸 Dabi who’s extensively careful in who he lets even an inch closer to him—mentally and physically. Dabi who walks away when you enter a room for the next few weeks just to separate his overwhelming curiosity about you because he doesn’t fucking understand it.

🩸 Dabi who wonders what your soft hair feels like under his twitching fingers shoved deep into pockets. Dabi who wonders how those hands of yours would feel in his tangled mess. He brushes his hair that night in irritation at himself.

🩸 Dabi who finally runs his fingers through his own hair and feels his own nails scrape along his scalp causing his heart to fracture because it feels so fucking good and what the fuck did he do to deserve the hell in his head.

🩸 Dabi who feels he might shatter with the smallest of touches thus he keeps you away from him lest your fingers manage to somehow brush over his skin and he not hate it.

🩸 Dabi who is assigned to a mission with you. The mission goes well, but the staples under his eyes and along his wrist are askew in a way he can’t fucking stand because he knows his body temperature is too high to fix them himself afterwards. Because he knows you’ll have to do it—that he will ask you to. He’s terrified but he hides it well, terrifyingly so. He asks for your assistance in stapling the skin together (the patchwork Frankenstein monstrosity he’d turned himself into in hopes he wouldn’t want to break his fucking mirror).

🩸 Your hands are soft, tender. They’re not delicate by any means, but he looks at them as if they are. Your touch is warm but cool, a contradiction he’s drawn to. He’s quiet while you work, and so are you. He says his appreciation and leaves as you’re putting away the upgraded first aid kit.

🩸 Dabi’s absence of presence that leaves you wondering what the hell; that leaves you looking up at the ceiling in confusion and more curiosity than you’d care to admit.

🩸 Dabi who goes to bed but doesn’t sleep. Can’t sleep as your phantom touch lingers under his eyes, along his wrists.

🩸 Dabi who walks into the LOV’s makeshift kitchen for coffee; he’s resigned himself to never sleeping again. Only he hears your steps as he’s putting the coffee grains into the filter. He adds another scoop.

🩸 Dabi who reluctantly turns and finds you sitting on the counter behind him, head tilted and it’s fucking cute. He’s smiling before he realizes it. The counter his hands rest on is smooth and cold. He wonders what your soft cheeks would feel like against the backs of his knuckles.

🩸 Dabi who finds he does enjoy your presence—as much as he’d been wary of. Dabi who sinks easily into the banter the two of you bounce on each other. Dabi who finds refuge in it.

🩸 Dabi who you make sure to give as much space as the man gives. Dabi who you also keep at arm’s length because you, as well, suffer from a detrimental case of touch starvation. Dabi who you also find refuge in the easy bantering the two of you begin to form.

🩸 Dabi who’s more than the murderous aura he wraps around him like goddamn bubble wrap. Dabi who’s laughter lights up a room. Dabi who’s smirk ignites electricity in your veins. Dabi who’s eyes wisp around you even when he’s not around.

🩸 Dabi whose fingers are long and calloused. Dabi who you start imagining next to you during menial, daily tasks. Dabi who starts standing next to you during those menial, daily tasks.

🩸 Dabi who you find at midnight smoking against a railing, fingers brushing along his knuckles with a yearning gaze he turns up to the stars. Dabi who doesn’t scratch off the sensation of your hand ghosting over his only to steal his cigarette and take a hit of it for yourself with that signature smile.

🩸 Dabi who asks you to help him with his stitches more regularly. Dabi who has scarred skin across his shoulder, down his back and across his stomach. Dabi who you realize doesn’t want your look of sympathy/empathy when he just leaves after catching sight of it.

🩸 Dabi who wonders what you think of him.

🩸 Dabi who imagines your arms around him as he falls asleep, your fingers running through his now softer strands of hair.

🩸 Dabi who finds you cooking at three in the morning and leans his head over your shoulder to see what you’re cooking up. It’s mac ‘n cheese and his laugh rumbles in your ear. Dabi who you share the cheap side dish with.

🩸 Dabi who finds himself coming out of his room as he smells food in the air and imagines you already there. You usually are. Dabi who smiles and walks up, who gradually over time rests his head there on your shoulder, who slowly, carefully wraps his arms around your waist.

🩸 Dabi whose arms around your waist keeps you up, who holds you down and makes you forget the world exists for a few short hours. Dabi who holds you long before he lets you hold him.

🩸 Dabi who shivers every time your fingers sift through his hair, who’s breath catches as the nails drag over his scalp. Dabi who chews his lip and feels his cheeks warm when your fingers brush along his back and chest.

🩸 Dabi who covers your hands when your touch is too close to something he can’t handle. Dabi who’s heart clenches when you relent and respect the boundary.

🩸 Dabi who falls for the comfort and security you give him long before he realizes. Dabi who finds a safety net in you that terrifies him, but then those fingers brush over his skin, his hair and he’s giving in entirely too easy.

🩸 Dabi who trusts you.

🩸 Dabi who asks you to hold him one night with his heart in his throat and gaze trained on the wall in fear of rejection. Dabi whose movements are jerky as he tries to relax himself in your arms that slide around his waist, legs that cage him in on either side. Dabi who relaxes almost immediately against your chest when your fingers slip through his hair. Dabi whose head buries into your shoulder and neck as he exhales slow and steady.

🩸 Dabi who will wake from the nap that induces and second guess every decision he’s ever made with you because you’re ingrained into his bones now and he’s terrified. Dabi whose fingers tremble when you just tug him tighter, closer, more securely to yourself.

🩸 Dabi who falls for you like an anchor to water.

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this blog’s about to be a dabi and mickey spam bot jesus fucking CHRIST.

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i’ve started watching shameless. for the first time. and no fucking joke bruh ian and mickey have my Entire Goddamn Attention. im not even through season one and ive heard this shit Hurts so that’ll be so much fun!!

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Dabi with Physical Touch

tags: gender neutral reader, touch starvation, touch aversion, trust issues, enemies to friends to lovers, sfw, fluff, slight angst

🩸 Dabi who’s the resident unapproachable tough guy in the LOV who keeps everyone an arms length away.

🩸 Dabi who fights the urge to hold a pillow to himself while in bed, ultimately leaving the unused pillow across from him the entire night and many nights after.

🩸 Dabi who smokes a cigarette against a railing, fingers brushing over his knuckles in an unconscious soothing motion as he wonders what the fuck he did wrong.

🩸 Dabi who leans against the headboard imagining arms around him he has never known unless he’d pushed himself to fainting. And even then…they’re arms he doesn’t care to be in.

🩸 Dabi who’s so touch starved he becomes touch averse to a degree—all despite knowing if he were held he might just feel himself piece back together; might just think he’s worthy of the fucking air he breathes.

🩸 Dabi who shrugs off any hug and fights not scratching the phantom pressure lingering on his skin.

🩸 Dabi who only wears the softest of clothes that won’t catch on his staples or his skin just wrong. Dabi who stole the smoothest leather he could find just to tear apart and stitch back together to wear in a fucked up reflection of his heart.

🩸 Dabi who watches the new addition to the LOV with intense, sharp azures.

🩸 Dabi who makes you feel like he’s just waiting for you to slip up, to fuck up a mission. Dabi who grates your nerves as much as that unnerving grin that splits staples lining half his face.

🩸 Dabi who you catch sight of in baggy black sweatpants and an oversized grey hoodie at four in the morning with tangled hair. Dabi who wears glasses he hadn’t taken off when he left his room for a glass of water when pausing in a chapter of his most recent read.

🩸 Dabi who scoffs at the shocked look you give in turn to his casual attire.

🩸 Dabi who’s gaze only seems to sharpen further on you when he realizes you’re a core addition to the LOV’s end goal. Dabi who sneaks into your next mission like a perpetual shadow to see you on the field.

🩸 Dabi who’s extensively careful in who he lets even an inch closer to him—mentally and physically. Dabi who walks away when you enter a room for the next few weeks just to separate his overwhelming curiosity about you because he doesn’t fucking understand it.

🩸 Dabi who wonders what your soft hair feels like under his twitching fingers shoved deep into pockets. Dabi who wonders how those hands of yours would feel in his tangled mess. He brushes his hair that night in irritation at himself.

🩸 Dabi who finally runs his fingers through his own hair and feels his own nails scrape along his scalp causing his heart to fracture because it feels so fucking good and what the fuck did he do to deserve the hell in his head.

🩸 Dabi who feels he might shatter with the smallest of touches thus he keeps you away from him lest your fingers manage to somehow brush over his skin and he not hate it.

🩸 Dabi who is assigned to a mission with you. The mission goes well, but the staples under his eyes and along his wrist are askew in a way he can’t fucking stand because he knows his body temperature is too high to fix them himself afterwards. Because he knows you’ll have to do it—that he will ask you to. He’s terrified but he hides it well, terrifyingly so. He asks for your assistance in stapling the skin together (the patchwork Frankenstein monstrosity he’d turned himself into in hopes he wouldn’t want to break his fucking mirror).

🩸 Your hands are soft, tender. They’re not delicate by any means, but he looks at them as if they are. Your touch is warm but cool, a contradiction he’s drawn to. He’s quiet while you work, and so are you. He says his appreciation and leaves as you’re putting away the upgraded first aid kit.

🩸 Dabi’s absence of presence that leaves you wondering what the hell; that leaves you looking up at the ceiling in confusion and more curiosity than you’d care to admit.

🩸 Dabi who goes to bed but doesn’t sleep. Can’t sleep as your phantom touch lingers under his eyes, along his wrists.

🩸 Dabi who walks into the LOV’s makeshift kitchen for coffee; he’s resigned himself to never sleeping again. Only he hears your steps as he’s putting the coffee grains into the filter. He adds another scoop.

🩸 Dabi who reluctantly turns and finds you sitting on the counter behind him, head tilted and it’s fucking cute. He’s smiling before he realizes it. The counter his hands rest on is smooth and cold. He wonders what your soft cheeks would feel like against the backs of his knuckles.

🩸 Dabi who finds he does enjoy your presence—as much as he’d been wary of. Dabi who sinks easily into the banter the two of you bounce on each other. Dabi who finds refuge in it.

🩸 Dabi who you make sure to give as much space as the man gives. Dabi who you also keep at arm’s length because you, as well, suffer from a detrimental case of touch starvation. Dabi who you also find refuge in the easy bantering the two of you begin to form.

🩸 Dabi who’s more than the murderous aura he wraps around him like goddamn bubble wrap. Dabi who’s laughter lights up a room. Dabi who’s smirk ignites electricity in your veins. Dabi who’s eyes wisp around you even when he’s not around.

🩸 Dabi whose fingers are long and calloused. Dabi who you start imagining next to you during menial, daily tasks. Dabi who starts standing next to you during those menial, daily tasks.

🩸 Dabi who you find at midnight smoking against a railing, fingers brushing along his knuckles with a yearning gaze he turns up to the stars. Dabi who doesn’t scratch off the sensation of your hand ghosting over his only to steal his cigarette and take a hit of it for yourself with that signature smile.

🩸 Dabi who asks you to help him with his stitches more regularly. Dabi who has scarred skin across his shoulder, down his back and across his stomach. Dabi who you realize doesn’t want your look of sympathy/empathy when he just leaves after catching sight of it.

🩸 Dabi who wonders what you think of him.

🩸 Dabi who imagines your arms around him as he falls asleep, your fingers running through his now softer strands of hair.

🩸 Dabi who finds you cooking at three in the morning and leans his head over your shoulder to see what you’re cooking up. It’s mac ‘n cheese and his laugh rumbles in your ear. Dabi who you share the cheap side dish with.

🩸 Dabi who finds himself coming out of his room as he smells food in the air and imagines you already there. You usually are. Dabi who smiles and walks up, who gradually over time rests his head there on your shoulder, who slowly, carefully wraps his arms around your waist.

🩸 Dabi whose arms around your waist keeps you up, who holds you down and makes you forget the world exists for a few short hours. Dabi who holds you long before he lets you hold him.

🩸 Dabi who shivers every time your fingers sift through his hair, who’s breath catches as the nails drag over his scalp. Dabi who chews his lip and feels his cheeks warm when your fingers brush along his back and chest.

🩸 Dabi who covers your hands when your touch is too close to something he can’t handle. Dabi who’s heart clenches when you relent and respect the boundary.

🩸 Dabi who falls for the comfort and security you give him long before he realizes. Dabi who finds a safety net in you that terrifies him, but then those fingers brush over his skin, his hair and he’s giving in entirely too easy.

🩸 Dabi who trusts you.

🩸 Dabi who asks you to hold him one night with his heart in his throat and gaze trained on the wall in fear of rejection. Dabi whose movements are jerky as he tries to relax himself in your arms that slide around his waist, legs that cage him in on either side. Dabi who relaxes almost immediately against your chest when your fingers slip through his hair. Dabi whose head buries into your shoulder and neck as he exhales slow and steady.

🩸 Dabi who will wake from the nap that induces and second guess every decision he’s ever made with you because you’re ingrained into his bones now and he’s terrified. Dabi whose fingers tremble when you just tug him tighter, closer, more securely to yourself.

🩸 Dabi who falls for you like an anchor to water.

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𝐃𝐚𝐛𝐢 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐢𝐬 🖤

"I'm gonna make her fall in love with every single fucked up part of me.

I want this girl to see me at my most depraved, I want her to experience the true darkness residing in my soul.

When you make someone fall in love with the darkest parts of you there's nothing you can do that will scare them away.

They'll be yours forever because they already love every fucked up bits and pieces of you"

-Another part taken from the book Haunting Adeline that reminded me so much of Dabi and how he'd plan on making you fall in love with him no matter what it takes, your heart will be his.

This is inspiring me so much to write something like this my heart is literally aching for him. Maybe one of these days who knows..

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The idea of Keigo jacking himself because you're away, and missing you to the point that he whimpers, 'Please, babe, fuck...'anna cum.'

He's sitting with his back to his headboard, his head lightly thudding as it tips back, his hand messily moving along his length as he thinks about you. He's such a mess, his spit and precum are everywhere on his hand and his length, the sound of it is the only thing in the room besides his moans and whimpers. He needs you so bad.

After the second time edging himself, he thinks to hell with it and calls you. Unfortunately, you're in the bathroom, and have a meeting coming up soon.

'Hey, babe!' You said cheerily, wondering why he was calling you. It had to have been past midnight back home, whereas it's almost two PM for you. 'What's-'

His horny groan floats through the receiver, along with the sound of skin slapping as he pumps himself. 'Babe, fuck...when are you coming home again? I want you so bad, fuck...'

His needy tone sends a chill through your spine and heat to your core. Tugging your clothes tighter to yourself, you whisper, 'Three days, babe. Just three more days, and I'm all yours.'

Shaky breaths are all you hear as he's rapidly approaching his climax. 'I'd fuck you into the mattress until you cried, if you were here now. I love it when you cry-do you know that, baby-'

'Yes,' You sigh. You can see it now. His hips slamming against you from behind, his torso on yours, his skin and hands on your body, while your front rubbed against the sheets, indirectly stimulating you too.

The tears rolling down your cheeks from the overstimulation, because it was too much, his cock was too much, the pleasure was too much....

How he'd chuckle and kiss your shoulders, his lips sending shivers, contrasting sharply with the roughness he's giving. 'You're so pretty like that, babe. So damn pretty.' he'd tell you. 'Look so good getting fucked like this.'

He grunts out your name through the receiver, continuing to jack himself through his orgasm as you listen intently. His sounds are beautiful, and the thought of him jacking to you has you salivating.

After a few heavy breaths, he pants out, 'I love you, babe. Please, get home as soon as possible, I can't wait....'

Tags: @doumadono @mossy-opal