#Drabble 4

[deadlydevotion]

He gets up a little early again today, just so he can squeeze in a little bit of peace all to himself in the early hours. He'd baked a little cake, just enough for three to share, the day before and now he just has to frost it.

Strawberry cake and creame cheese frosting, decadent and almost too sweet, just because he wanted that way. Its his after all.

He puts one candle on it, because he's apparently supposed to blow it out and make a wish. He hadn't known about that for Knives and Vash's. He doubts a wish would have made the day any better though.

Candle lit, he sits at the kitchen island in the low dawn light, leaned forward on crossed arms braced on the countertop, watching the little flame. It feels like its burning in his chest, like it's the culmination of all the little things that add up to the slowly growing fire inside him where there'd before only been a cold empty cavern, never to be filled.

Today is his birthday. Its his because he chose it himself, picked the date out to be his own. Knives may have given him the idea, encouraged him to chose, but he made the choice. Its his, his own little gift to himself that he can remember for next year. And the year after. Hopefully.

Wishing on a candle seems silly and childish but no one else is up yet, no one can see him, so he closes his eyes and wishes very hard:

'I wish to have another birthday next year.'

A quick puff blows the candle out and he plucks out the left over end, sticking it in his mouth to suck the frosting of as he smooths the indent left behind with the frosting knife. Its then sliced into thirds and plated, for when Knives and Zazie wake up. In the meantime he'll start on breakfast and hum quietly to himself, basking in the quiet hum of the Ark by himself.

[babybluesquid]

Twisted Emulation and Insomniac Regret

“Our allies will not arrive in time to reinforce us. The Cyrans will be upon our position in two days.”

Commander Iura Josan stood at the end of the war table, looking over the pieces on the board contemplatively. C4-P9-S3-Q2-OR6, or “Calm” as Iura had nicknamed it, stood at the other end of the tent, guarding the closed entrance with poleaxe at the ready. He flicked his gaze up to look at the undead soldier. “What do you make of this?”

Normally, an Odakyr Rites undead only responded when spoken too, barring the need for clarification in orders. It was common to hear one ask for permission to use lethal force. However, Iura Josan had been keeping his eyes on this one, this curious one, who did not behave the same way as the others, Calm. The skeleton was impassive, making absolutely no movement. Even when it responded, it had no need to move its jaw as the sound emanated through a magical enchantment.

“The Cyrans will surely attack us. To them, we must seem an easy target.”

Iura Josan did not externally react, continuing to look over his map. Internally though, he marveled at the strange response. “Us,” “we,” such language was never used by the Odakyr Rites undead to refer to both themselves and the living. It was far too familiar for those detached dead, who existed only to be ordered around and to serve Karrnath. Additionally, crucially, it had just given a tactical opinion.

This strange one, this Calm one, was clearly just pretending to be like the others. It didn’t realize it had messed up.

—

Dagne hated the evenings. Those empty hours where everyone slept, and even Vaeren was in their trance. The times where their own thoughts could not be externalized, could not be distracted from. They had to endure these hours for so long. It was all the more painful now that they could remember sleeping and awakening to feel refreshed.

Still, it was better now than it ever had been. Back in the military, almost all their time was empty. They had never been expected to do anything except stand around and occasionally fight. An undead soldier was just a weapon. They were finally living now, most of their hours filled with activity.

They were trying to read, but the book was not capturing their attention, and it was a difficult one besides. After a while, they just set it down in frustration and returned to their own mind, attending to memories and anxieties. They kept returning to the war. Most of all, they thought about Iura Josan, his strange affection and his icy cruelty. They hated him.

—

“Come,” Iura Josan said, gesturing to the empty seat, “play me.”

Calm stared down at the Conquerer set, unflinching. Iura Josan’s face was warm, but he put up expressions like they were masks. “Orders: guard the commander,” Calm replied. Iura smiled, “this will not interfere with that. I am quite safe besides. Play me.” With the assurance, the undead sat in the chair, leaning the poleaxe against the seat back in easy reach. He quietly made a standard opening move, watching for its response. A moment later, the undead did respond. The move was not the proper counter, but it also wasn’t random. Clearly the undead soldier had some understanding of the game’s rules already.

In a few more moves passed in silence, it was clear that the skeleton did not know much about Conquerer strategies. Perhaps whoever it had been in life had not been an avid player. That was of little importance though.

It was the only Odakyr Rites undead that Iura Josan had ever encountered that played at all.

Of course he easily defeated it, systemically capturing its pieces and reducing it to a worse and worse situation until finally it had no more recourse. At the end of the game, Iura asked, “how was the game?” “You played well, commander.” “Thank you, Calm. You may return to your post.” Wordlessly, Calm rose, retrieved its poleaxe, and returned to the tent entrance.

Disappointing, but he didn’t expect the undead to give away its actual thought processes so easily. He didn’t want to probe too deep into this one, and he certainly did not want others to notice his fascination with it. It was his own little curiosity, one which the Ministry of Dead would not be taking away to analyze. They would think it was defective, for its lack of bloodlust. But that was the very property that made Iura Josan feel at ease with it as his guard. The other undead had something unnerving about them, even as they were recognizable as something which was once a person, and Calm seemed to lack it.

—

They stood up and wandered over to the wall where their armor and poleaxe was mounted. It had been Iura Josan’s sword, armor and poleaxe. There was a time when they believed his ghost had come to haunt them, but it was merely a demon using his face tauntingly. The anger was still there, over that, even if they had beaten the foul creature.

Because it made them ashamed.

Dagne tried so hard to be a leader like him, a great tactician who was able to move people effectively and win. But they weren’t that. They were never that. They had been a pretender.

They took the poleaxe down from the wall and felt the familiar weight in their hands. The poleaxe that they had bonded with Garthir. As if on cue, the weapon send reassurances into their subconscious. The warm familiarity was calming as Dagne worked their way through a set of stances. Low, high, half, and so on. It was unusual for a commander to prefer a polearm. Iura Josan used it for its deadly practicality, favoring it over the sword. Everything always seemed to be about practicality for him. But that wasn’t true.

—

The axeblade of Calm’s weapon rested against the prisoner’s neck. The mercenary glared up at Commander Iura Josan. He stared down, coldly. “Your refusal to give any information has brought you here. Had you turned over the location of your comrades base, I would have saw fit to spare your miserable life.”

In response, the hobgoblin spit, responding in Goblin, “no kapaa, chaat’oor. I am ghaal’lhurusk. You are just Karrn’taarka.” Immediately, Iura Josan responded in kind, taking on the hobgoblin’s own tongue, “and you are Cyre’s tuuv’daask, taat. Tell me location.” A bit surprised to be addressed in her own tongue and insulted so, the hobgoblin’s ears went flat and her lips turned up into a sneer. “Kuur dor. I seek kurar before kapaa.” “Ban,” Iura Josan said.

He looked up at Calm then, but it already understood. It did not hesitate to raise the axeblade and bring it down, beheading the mercenary.

Iura Josan stared down impassively at the dead prisoner for a moment, then “drag off the body and then retrieve the next. We are running short on time.” This time, Calm hesitated, just for a second, but that instant was long enough for him to catch and make note of. Was the undead soldier uncomfortable? He had always assumed it to merely be indifferent, rather than relishing in slaughter, but if it was actually affected…

He pushed the thought aside. He could follow that line of logic and make further observations at another time. Now, he needed to focus on prying information out of the prisoners. Perhaps a mere foot soldier would be more forthcoming than the mercenary sergeant. Hopefully a mere foot soldier would know the information he needed. And if not, he could have his necromancer speak to the lhursk’s corpse.

—

Dagne set the poleaxe down on the floor, sitting down. They stared out into the empty night, then, slowly laid out so they were just looking up at the ceiling. Grief was their companion right now. Rather than alleviate their restlessness, going through the practiced drills only reminded them of the past.

They hated him.

Thinking back, Dagne was ashamed of how much they acted like he did when they started adventuring. How they pushed the people around them to change, past the point of comfort and for their own selfish reasons. They had told themselves that they just wanted to help them, but it couldn’t be true. There was always the ulterior motive of wanting to control others’ actions. Even with Vaeren. Their actions disgusted them. They also did Iura Josan proud.

—

“Do you remember who you were?” Iura Josan asked Calm. The undead reacted physically, just a slight twitch. He stared it down with an unreadable gaze, expecting response, no acceptance for a refusal to speak. “No,” it replied.

He sighed, “pity. I heard you were created of a hero.” This time, there was no reaction. Iura carried on, “of course, I am not supposed to know who your corpse donor was. I will speak no more of it.” Calm made no response, disappointing. He could not blame the undead soldier for being so cautious. Clearly, it was an attempt at self-preservation, to pretend it was something ordinary. The other soldiers were fooled, the other undead were not. Iura Josan noticed how their unintelligible, bloodthirsty and restless whispers would fill the night, and how Calm’s were not among them.

“Spar me,” he ordered, picking up his poleaxe. The weapon was beautiful, blackened metal with a detail of a skull at the center where the axeblade, hammer, and spearpoint met. It was enchanted as well. Calm obliged, taking up stance.

Iura came in aggressively, aiming to knock the undead off balance. However, its feet were planted and it took and hit, responding with a powerful downward strike at his arms. Iura danced aside in time to avoid the disarming blow, then came back in again. Hammer connected with Calm’s exposed femur, cracking it powerfully. He knew it must’ve hurt the undead, but it gave no reaction as it stepped forward, swinging its own weapon and stopping short of Iura’s chestplate. It refused to retaliate. Iura grinned.

“You are skilled indeed to be able to keep up with me, Calm. But you do not want to hurt me,” he said. The skeleton just looked back at him, expressionless as only bone can be, but Iura could swear he sensed a bit of anger. Finally, some indication that it was capable of being enraged. Interesting. Then, it suddenly responded, “orders: protect the commander.” Iura Josan laughed, he couldn’t help it, it was so absurd how this thing was clinging on to the semblance of its facade long after he had seen right through its feeble attempts to hide. Then, his tone turned serious, “we both know you are under no such restriction. You could have landed that blow. You chose not to.”

The undead did not respond to the accusation, of course, but it backed up. Just a half-step, but it did, and that was all the confirmation Iura Josan needed. “Now, can we drop this tiresome pretense between us and finally speak frankly?” The silence lasted for many long moments. The undead knew it was caught, of course, it had known it was caught for a long time. Finally, it responded, “very well.” Iura Josan smiled, “who are you?” “I do not know.” He snorted, annoyed, “not who you were, who you are now.” The undead shifted uncomfortably, not wanting to share. “Tell me,” Iura ordered, all kindness gone from his voice. “I’m Dagne.”

—

Note:

I used some terms from the goblin glossary in Exploring Eberron.

kapaa = "betrayal"

chaat'oor = "defiler," especially a human

ghaal'lhurusk = "strong" + "sergeant"

Karrn'taarka = "Karrnathi" + "wolf," Karrnathi soldiers are called wolves, Karrn would be an import word

tuuv'daask = mercenary, literally "buy" + "soldier"

taat = derogatory term for someone of lesser rank

kuur dor = "speak" + "never"

kurar = "death"

ban = "sure" or "your funeral"

[stanleynopines]

My friend made me draw Leon

[riddlesbunny]

⋆₊˚⊹♡ 18+, MDNI

Imagine best friend!JJ being in the middle of jacking off to photos of you when you call him. His cock is hard and pre-cum leaks from the tip as he scrolls through your instagram feed. Mainly clicking on the photos of you in bikinis.

A desperate whimper escapes him as he imagines it’s you wrapped around him instead of his hand.

JJ is quickly irritated when his phone first goes off and sets him off pace, but his demeanor changes once he sees that it’s your name lit up on the screen.

The right thing to do would be to let it go to voicemail. It would be disgusting, perverted, even, to pick it up… but he knows he’ll do it anyway. Since when did JJ ever do the right thing? He needs to hear your voice.

“Jayj?” you say when the line picks up and he instantly feels like his heart is going to beat right out of his chest.

“H-hey!” He chokes out, his voice on the brink of inaudibility.

“Hey Jay.”

Fuck. Your voice is perfect, he thinks.

“Um, what’s up?” He stutters as he continues to glide his hand over his thick cock, tugging at it harsher now than before.

“The boys mentioned they hadn’t heard from you yet today, so I wanted to let you know we’ll be down at the boneyard later.”

“Yeah? A party?” he asks coolly as he attempts to keep his composure, a sheen veil of sweat beading on his forehead.

“Mhm, and I need someone to protect me from those douchey, frat boy, kooks,” you flirt innocently, “so I was hoping you’d wanna come?”

Yes, he wanted to cum.

He wanted to cum on your stomach, in your mouth, inside your pussy. Just hearing you say the word nearly sent him over the edge. For a split second he was unable to respond, too focused on his pleasure.

He was close. Too close. It didn’t take much for JJ to cum these days — especially not when the pent up lust he had for you had reached new heights. He just needed you to talk to him some more with that sweet, angelic voice of yours.

As if you read his mind, you let out a deep sigh into the phone.

“Well, JJ? Are you coming or not?” you huff and that is all he needs to be sent over the edge.

“Fuck,” your best friend groans out.

“Yes! I’m— I’m coming,” he chokes into the phone, practically moaning at you as he pumps his cock a few more times, squeezing at the tip before spilling himself into his palm.

“I—I’ll be there,” he reassures you through bated breaths.

“Sheesh, Jay,” you giggle at his enthusiasm, oblivious to the situation. God, you were so fucking innocent.

“I’m glad to know you’re excited, I am too! I’ll see you there! Bye!”

JJ lets out a deep breath as the line disconnects down on your end.

“Yeah,” he mutters to himself, “I’ll see you there.”

He could consider himself totally fucked.

[greengoblinswifey]

Trust— Rafe Cameron x Pogue!Reader

summary— based on season 4 episode 9, slight spoilers. rafe is convinced he can help you relax, take your mind off the drama on the ship and make you trust him.

warnings— manipulation, oral, praise kink, degrading kink, bondage, unprotected sex, creampie, breeding kink.

Rafe looked up as you entered the small, cramped bathroom, his blue eyes narrowing before softening a bit as he registered your expression. “Come to check on me again?” he drawled, his voice low and rough after days of confinement. Despite his irritation, there was a hint of something else in his tone, something that felt almost, relieved.

“Yeah,” you replied, sighing as you slid down to sit on the floor next to him, finally giving yourself a break from the chaos upstairs. “I needed to get away from everything. JJ's out of control, everyone’s on edge, and it’s just—it's all a lot.”

Rafe raised an eyebrow, shifting a bit to get more comfortable despite his tied-up position. “Sounds like a mess,” he said, a glint in his eyes. “But not surprising. I’d be losing it, too, if I were up there. Though, you don’t seem the type to lose it.”

You exhaled, glancing away. “I don’t know, sometimes I think I'm just about at my limit. It feels like I’m the only one who, I don’t know, tries to keep it all together by being civil.”

Rafe smirked slightly, his gaze unwavering. “You don’t have to, you know. Keep it together all the time,” he murmured, his voice taking on an edge. “Sometimes, you just need to let off some steam.” His voice dropped, a bit huskier. “Maybe even relax a little.” His eyes locked onto yours, and you felt your pulse quicken.

You frowned, glancing at his wrists, still bound. “Rafe…”

“Come on,” he coaxed, his tone almost too smooth. “Untie me. I’m not going to hurt you.” He held your gaze with an intensity that made you falter. “Let me help you relax.”

Hesitating, you chewed on your lip. There was something, different about him right now, and you couldn’t quite pin point it. But, against your better judgment, you reached forward and undid the ropes around his wrists, slowly freeing him.

Before you could process what was happening, his hands were on you, and he pulled you in close, pressing his lips to yours. The kiss was both rough and gentle, catching you completely off-guard. You melted into it, the tension you’d been carrying washing away under his touch. Your mind went blank, and you felt yourself leaning in closer, craving the connection.

“You’re so needy,” he murmured against your lips, “So naughty for letting me loose like this.”

Flustered, you pulled back slightly, breathless. “Rafe…”

He only smirked, his fingers trailing along your jaw. “It’s alright,” he whispered, holding your gaze with a soft, challenging glint. “Now that I’m out, maybe I can return the favor and help you feel a little better.”

You slowly nodded. You couldn’t deny the way he was making you feel.

Rafe’s hands moved slowly over your bare stomach, his fingers tracing delicate patterns across your skin, sending shivers up your spine. His gaze flicked up to meet yours, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “So responsive,” he murmured, watching your breath hitch as his hands continued their slow exploration.

Your cheeks warmed under his gaze, feeling vulnerable but completely unable to pull away. Rafe’s fingers hooked under the waistband of your skirt, and with a quiet confidence, he slipped it and your thong off, leaving you feeling even more exposed. He let out a quiet chuckle, his hands never leaving your skin.

When he pulled off his own shirt, his eyes never left yours, and then he moved closer, his presence between your legs grounding you in the moment. “Trust me,” he whispered, voice low as he leaned in, and before you could fully process the warmth of his breath, he began to press soft, deliberate kisses along your inner thigh, drawing a gasp from you.

“You’re so—” you managed, words slipping away as he looked up at you with that familiar smirk, his gaze unrelenting.

“So what?” he teased, “I haven’t even started.”

Your breath grew shallow, anticipation building as his hands traced along your hips, grounding you in a way you hadn’t expected.

His mouth attached to your clit and it sent a spark through you, his touch patient yet undeniably intent, and you couldn’t help but give in to the sensation, letting yourself relax under his steady hands. His tongue was precise, lapping up every part of your pussy that was soaked with your juices.

“Don’t hold back now,” he murmured. His constant sucking and flicking over your clit made your orgasm wash over you, leaving you completely captivated, and all you could do was let yourself melt into the moment, trusting him entirely.

“I’d say you were my good girl and you are but fuck, you’re such a slut just letting me make you cum like this, I thought you and your friends didn’t trust me?” he chuckled, sitting up til he was beside you. You buried your face into his chest, embarrassed that he was right.

“Oh that’s okay baby, don’t be embarrassed,” he laughed, “you know what would make it all better? Me doing to you what they did to me.”

Your head shot up, confusion etched across your face.

“Not like that baby, you’d be willing wouldn’t you? Would you let me tie you up and use you? Gonna be a good girl for me?” he asked huskily.

Slowly, you nodded. You couldn’t deny his words made you throb. You’d let this man do anything to you. He smirked at your obedience and took up the rope, beginning to tie you in the same position he was before. The rope was tied firmly, but not firm enough to hurt or bruise you.

“Is that okay baby? You like being all tied up for me?”

“Y-yes Rafe,” you muttered, eyes big and full of need.

He slipped down his boxers and your eyes went wider, gasping at the size of him. He was so thick and leaking for you. You needed a taste.

“Open up that whore mouth,” he growled.

Immediately, you did what was told and he shoved his cock straight to the back of your throat making you gag.

“Breathe baby, breathe, I know you can take it, you seem like you’d be such a good cock sucker.”

You wanted to prove him right, you wanted to be exactly what he thought of you. As he slowly thrusted into your mouth, your tongue went to work, swirling over the base and the tip, getting it as sloppy as you could. He moaned deeply above you, as his thrusts grew faster, your lips suctioned around him, making the sweetest little sounds.

You would’ve played with his balls if your hands weren’t tied and so, you leaned your head down, slurping and sucking on his balls as he threw his head back and shivered.

“Fuck, I knew you could do it, I knew you were a little whore, what a fucking mouth.” He slipped back into your mouth, his hands now going to your curls as he held you down on his cock, but before he could shoot his load down your throat, he pulled out.

“I know you’d swallow every last drop of my cum like the whore you are but I’d rather your pussy swallow it,” he chucked.

Heat rose in your cheeks as you thought about him filling you up. You weren’t on any form of birth control and you knew for a fact him or anyone on the ship did not have a condom in their possession. He’d definitely get you pregnant, just like his sister was at the moment. Ironic.

“Now, I have an idea.” You looked up at him curiously then gasped as he lifted your lower body, your hands in a slight awkward position as he held you up to fuck you mid air.

“Think you can take it— oh who am I kidding, you’re going to fucking take it,” he muttered, rubbing the leaking tip of his cock up and down your pussy lips.

“Your pussy is so wet and pretty, so happy you just gave it up to me.” You both moaned in unison as his cock slowly penetrated you. In that moment you partially wished your hands weren’t tied so you could’ve placed it on his abdomen, halting him from any further movements.

“You’re so fucking tight,” he moaned. Your eyes squeezed shut as he began pounding into you, your tits spilling out of the skimpy top you had on. His cock was deep inside you due to the angle, the feeling making your pussy quiver.

“Who’s making you feel this good huh?” he asked, his hands squeezing your hips harshly.

“You are Rafe, you,” you cried out. Your friends had definitely heard your screams.

“Good girl, trust me now?” he chuckled, breathlessly.

“Yes Rafe, I trust you. Faster, please,” you pleaded.

His rough thrusts sped up and the sound of your sloppy pussy and your loud moans filled the bathroom, possibly alerting your friends above.

“I need to feel you cum on my cock baby, you can do it,” he urged.

He went faster and deeper, hitting that spongy spot inside you to draw the orgasm out. Before long, you screamed his name, your pussy squirting all over the bathroom walls as he continued fucking you through your high, pulling everything out of you.

“You’re so fucking hot, good girl,” he cooed.

He began chasing his own orgasm, his hand wrapping around your neck and his other skillfully holding under you as his thrusts grew more sloppy.

“Clench around me baby, I’m gonna pump this sweet pussy full of my cum. Gonna get you fucking pregnant, have you carry my babies inside this sexy body.”

You couldn’t protest even if you wanted to and your walls clamped around him, milking him of every ounce of his cum as he slammed into you. His thrusts grew slower and slower and he held you with one hand, the other unbinding your hands and when he did, he held you close to him, his cock still deep inside your pussy.

You both shivered under each other’s touch, panting slowly subsiding.

You shifted off him, the feeling of his big cock slipping out of you making you wince and whimper at the loss and you sat beside him.

“You look so beautiful and relaxed,” he smirked, pushing your curls behind your ear.

“Well you were right, you could help me relax,” you giggled.

“I’m always right. I meant what I said by the way, you’re gonna carry my babies inside that sexy fucking body,” he smirked, rubbing your stomach.

Before you could respond, there was a pounding on the door, it was your best friend.

“Y/N, what’s all that noise? What’s going on in there?” Cleo called out.

[shycoconutt]

It was an accident. Nanami Kento didn’t mean to cum in your panties. He was planning to fuck you properly, he was sure. But after one too many beers during your night out and your relentless groping of his hardened cock over his pants on the walk home, he was already close to the edge.

After stumbling into your shared apartment, you didn’t even make it down the main entryway before he had your dress hiked up around your waist and your panties down over your thighs. Feverishly undoing his belt, unzipping his pants, and pulling out his throbbing length just over the band of his briefs, all he wanted was to feel you.

Experimentally, he drew you in flush to his chest and lined his length up to your heat. One careful thrust forward and he was met with the pooling of your arousal between your folds. It felt euphoric. Slowly, he began thrusting his cock back and forth, nudging your clit with the tip of his head at every pass.

Your legs were already shaking, and you held onto his broad shoulders for support, wrinkling his dress shirt in the process. He felt the way you sunk your face further into his chest in attempt to hide your mewls. Oh, but how he wanted to hear you cry out to him.

Your arousal keeps dripping out of you, and soon he too is soaked with your juices. It was starting to get noisy, the sounds of your pussy becoming so lewd. He felt his face getting hot, and he was quickly becoming uneasy. It was like a fever, he just had to cum.

Not being able to take it any longer, Nanami grabs at the plush of your ass and squeezes hard. Throwing your head back, you gasp in surprise as he forcefully thrusts you forward on his cock, fully using you now to give himself a pussy job. His veiny shaft felt amazing on your bundle of nerves, stimulating them perfectly.

Soon, you were coming, and that was enough permission for him to release as well. Quickly, thick ropes of his seed were spurting out all over your pussy, inner thighs, and panties. His body jolted forward with every pulse, curling himself onto you and completely engulfing you in his embrace.

After catching your breaths as your orgasms died down, he turned his face towards yours and gave you a loving kiss on your temple while simultaneously sliding your panties up and back in place. You didn’t miss how he tapped your core with a hum in approval.

“We should wash up, yeah?” he smiled, still holding you close.

All you could do was nod in response, still feeling flustered from your raunchy display. After a beat, you were swept off your feet as Nanami lifted you and carried you bridal-style to your bathroom. He pampered you all night, once in the bath and twice in the comfort of your bed.

Nanami swore it was an accident, but the several times he’s come in your panties since then, maybe he couldn’t label it that way anymore.

[parrish-the-thot]

A continuation of this post I made

I imagine Steve genuinely doesn’t think about Eddie, like at all. Besides the occasional “what is he yelling about in that table” or “ Munson actually showed up to class” or once in sophomore year he thinks “how much does Munson charge for an ounce of weed? Would he take a $50 for an ounce” which causes Eddie to wait around all day at the picnic table wishing for some shmuck to offer $50 for just an ounce, but no one shows up (Steve had to go pick up Dustin after school and didn’t want him to find weed the weed when he inevitably starts going through Steve’s car)

The lack of soulmate thoughts really irks Eddie, because he knows his soulmate is in Hawkins, but he never thinks about Eddie, like at all??? Positively or negatively?? Eddie jumps on more tables, he blares loud music from his van, he is in a band, he is the drug dealer for all the teens in Hawkins and all his soulmate thinks is “why the fuck did Munson double park his van, I’m going to be late looking for a parking spot now” it absolutely drives him crazy.

He eventually figures out his soulmate must be a jock of some kind because one day he hears “what is Munson doing under the bleachers?” when some sports team is let out of playing with balls practice. He is briefly heartbroken his soulmate isn’t a nerd like him, but then spends the night thinking about how a certain fluffy haired jock could play with his balls anytime.

Steve isn’t not thinking about Eddie on purpose, but they just don’t run in the same circles, so he doesn’t really think about him too much, just in a genuine, “I don’t know them, don’t interact with them, so I don’t really think about them” sort of way. Especially after befriending the kids, Steve’s focus goes to keeping them safe and being a babysitter instead of finding his soulmate.

Steve’s experience with his soulmates thoughts is completely different. Starting in middle school he heard his soulmate think he was cute which he thought was nice. As he got older his soulmate would still think he was cute, but also handsome or pretty which, he doesn’t know any girls who call their boyfriends pretty but ya know, he can roll with that. He thinks he will have to roll with a lot of stuff, since hai soulmate seems to into a…a lot of interesting things, to say the least. Steve has dated a lot of girls but none of them seemed to want to rub their face in his chest hair like his soulmate did, who also wonder is Steve was that hairy everywhere which- he was but he didn’t think a girl would want to know about that.

He would be in the middle of a basket ball game and he hit with a 15 minute monologue about how wonderful his ass looked in “thise little green shirts that ride up his ass in the best way” and how his soulmate “wanted to be those shorts” causing Steve to miss three different shots. Also with all this wildly kinky stuff and even general sex things Steve has never heard of or thought about he figures he should become more knowledgeable to better be prepared for his soulmate.

One day when Steve is cleaning up a drink he spilled in the cafeteria and heard “god Harrington looks good on his knees, bet he would look even better with my cock in his mouth” figures chances are his soulmate isn’t a girl at all.

With not much else to loose and a new door opened up to him, Steve starts spending time thinking equally horny thinvs about different guys he sees in class, just to see if they will react to what he is thinking. This is how he figures out Eddie is his soulmate.

Steve notices eddies table is getting a little rowdy, as is always does before Eddie gets up on someone’s table and he rants about jocks and preppy girls while stepping on people’s lunches, Steve thinks “what if comes over here, spits in my stretched out hole, and fucks me right next to Heathers Halloways tuna sandwich”

Eddie, whose soulmate didn’t even think about Eddie that one time his car got spray painted a fit was all the school talked about for a week, was NOT expecting that at 12:30 on a Tuesday and promptly trips on a chair and slams face first into the lunch table, breaking his nose.

Eddies friends rush him to the nurse and Steve is torn between this being a sign Eddie is soulmate or Eddie just clumsy, Steve has seen him walk into a door twice, so he don’t 100% sure. Steve decided to test this anytime he has a clear viewpoint of Eddie and starts thinking the most horny, kinky things possibly about Eddie to see if Eddie reacts proves he is Steve’s soulmate (also revenge because Steve had to go through years of Eddie horny pondering interrupting Steve during important tasks games or tests so Steve figures he should pay that forward during eddies dungeons and dorks games)

[grenadehearts]

thinking about gruff!older!katsuki nearing his 40s, his muscles aching more than they did when he was freshly 20, the years of hard labor carved into every tendon and joint. his sandy blonde hair, once bright and wild, starting to show a few stubborn greys. he even grew stubble — coarse and scratchy — that leaves your skin burning when he kisses you.

and you'll complain about it, listing off reasons on your pretty, young, manicured fingers why he needs to shave, tapping each one against his chest. he'll just tilt his head, give you that lazy, lopsided smirk, and grunt a simple, "nah."

thinking about gruff!older!katsuki and the way he met you — this bright, pretty thing tucked away behind rows of blooms — when he ducked into a floral shop for a last-minute birthday gift for the old hag. how he saw you there, sleeves rolled up, soil caked on your delicate hands, loose strands of hair sticking to your sweaty forehead, and how you just blew them away without a second thought — left him absolutely weak in the knees.

your laugh was brighter than any flower in that whole damn shop, and your eyes?

god, your eyes put every petal to shame.

thinking about gruff!older!katsuki who lingered way longer than he should have, asking the dumbest questions known to man about orchids, tulips, lilies, and roses, just so he could hear you talk. how you lit up at every answer, spilling all these little facts with that animated sparkle in your voice.

he didn't even like flowers.

but he liked you.

thinking about gruff!older!katsuki who kept coming back to that little shop for months after. at first, it was excuses — shitty ones, too. "forgot what kinda flowers she liked," he'd mutter. "need somethin' for a friend."

but pretty soon, there weren't any excuses left. he was just there, like clockwork, hanging on your every word, wrapped around your finger like some lovesick, pathetic mutt.

thinking about gruff!older!katsuki whose hands are rough, calloused from decades of labor — decades that stretch back to before you were even born. big, scarred palms that make your soft skin feel like silk in comparison.

thinking about gruff!older!katsuki who takes a little longer to get out of bed in the mornings, always grumbling about his bad back, how he needs time to "get movin’."

but really, he just wants an excuse to pull you in close — press you flush against him, soak in the heat of you — and watch your pretty eyelashes flutter while you sleep.

and he has to be there when you wake up.

he needs to see those gorgeous eyes make sure they find him first thing in the morning.

thinking about gruff!older!katsuki who hadn't even thought about dating for years — too busy, too bitter, too tired — until he stumbled into you. all doe-eyed and sweet, so eager and fresh-faced you knocked the damn wind outta him.

made him awkward again, made him red-faced and desperate to impress you.

and all the boys you had before? college kids, jerks who only cared about frat parties and notches on their belts. they didn’t know the first thing about taking care of someone like you.

but katsuki did. he was older. more patient. rough around the edges, sure — but he knew how to make you feel good, how to take his time and worship you like you deserved.

getting there, though?

getting there was tricky.

you were both such messes, two bumbling, nervous idiots, fumbling around each other like awkward teenagers.

but god, it was worth it.

a/n: based on this request lmk if you guys are wanting to see more of this, masterlist link here. and tysm for 1k followers!

taglist: @xoxojisu @candiiee @luvseraphh @cvnt4him @soundtrqck @chlosology @lotusstarr @cupkiki @wokasiv @badslittlemuffin @princessshnazzy @203steph @chitteringcicadaeyes @idk1187 @notartemis777 @chosostonguepiercing @chocolatedefendorbaa @t33th--r0t @3lenaatvt @the-faceless-bride @tuneinwlosers @badslittlemuffin @dreamcastgirl99 @gethexxed @moonstonejpg @pluto-9456 @wonubby @kye1aaazene @izukusfangirl @van9lla @dienamiight @sofi4dsam @kawaiiclubdaily @therefore-evermore @bluemailhiot @luckybibucky @sk1ppy-art @d011yyxx @myths-and-ledgends @icanread-icantwrite @changkyunnnie @blue-birdie-bixch @aj1j @twoplayergaymers @socialobligation

[chloeangelbaby]

You don’t love me

Crybaby! Reader x Rafe Cameron

———————————˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊————————————

It had been weeks of the same routine. Rafe was up early, gone all day, and by the time he got home, he was too exhausted to do anything but collapse into bed. You understood at first—Rafe worked hard, and running a company wasn’t easy. But as the days turned into weeks, his absence began to gnaw at you.

Tonight, you’d reached your limit.

You were sitting on the couch, scrolling aimlessly on your phone, when the craving hit. You wanted ice cream, something sweet and cold to take your mind off the void of Rafe’s company. You peeked into the kitchen but found nothing that would satisfy you.

“Rafe?” you called, walking into the bedroom where he was sitting on the edge of the bed, unbuttoning his shirt.

“Yeah?” His voice was tired, his eyes barely lifting to meet yours.

“I wanna go for a drive. We can stop and get ice cream or something,” you said, your tone hopeful.

Rafe sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “Baby, I can’t tonight. I’m dead on my feet. Can’t it wait until tomorrow?”

The casual dismissal stung. “No, it can’t wait,” you snapped, your voice rising. “You’ve been saying that all week! Tomorrow, tomorrow—what about me, Rafe?”

“I’m doing this for us,” he said, his tone defensive. “I’m not saying no because I want to. I’m exhausted, okay?”

You stared at him, your emotions bubbling over. Before you knew it, you were crying, your chest heaving with sobs. “You don’t care! You don’t care about me anymore!”

Rafe frowned, standing up. “That’s not fair, and you know it.”

“Fair?” you spat, your voice cracking as you stomped your foot. “What’s not fair is you ignoring me all the time! All I wanted was a stupid drive, and you can’t even give me that!”

“Dolly—”

“Don’t call me that!” you screamed, tears streaming down your face. Your words tumbled out in a jumble, barely making sense. “You don’t listen to me! You don’t care! You just… you just—”

You weakly shoved at his chest, your small fists thumping against him as you hiccupped and choked on your sobs. Rafe stood there, letting you vent, his hands hovering as if unsure whether to grab you or give you space.

“You’re mean! And, and… I hate you!” you wailed, though you didn’t mean it.

Finally, Rafe had enough. “Alright,” he said, his voice firm. He grabbed your wrists gently but firmly, holding them still. “That’s enough, baby. Stop.”

But you didn’t stop. “You don’t love me!” you blubbered, your head dropping forward as you sobbed uncontrollably.

Rafe sighed, pulling you into his chest despite your protests. “I love you more than anything,” he murmured, his arms wrapping around you tightly. “But you’ve got to calm down, okay? You’re working yourself up too much.”

“I-I can’t!” you hiccupped, your body shaking in his hold.

“Yes, you can,” he said, his voice soft but firm. “Breathe, Dolly. Come on, with me. In and out.”

You tried, but the sobs kept breaking through, your breaths coming in shallow gasps. Rafe scooped you up and carried you to the bed, sitting down with you in his lap. He started rubbing your back in slow, soothing circles, his chin resting on top of your head.

“Shh, it’s okay,” he murmured. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

“I just… I just wanted…” you sniffled, unable to finish your sentence.

“I know,” he said softly. “I know, baby. I’ve been a terrible boyfriend lately, haven’t I?”

You nodded against his chest, your tears soaking his shirt.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice full of genuine regret. “You’re right—I haven’t been around enough. I’ll fix it, okay? Starting tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” you mumbled, your voice small and wobbly.

“Promise,” he said, lifting your chin so you could see the sincerity in his eyes. “And tonight, I’ll make it up to you. We’ll stay up and watch whatever you want, or I’ll run out and get ice cream. Anything you need, baby.”

You sniffled, wiping your face with your sleeve. “Just want you…”

“You’ve got me,” he said, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Always.”

Your sobs began to subside, your breathing evening out as Rafe continued to hold you close. You clung to him, your face buried in his neck, finally feeling the comfort you’d been craving.

“Love you,” you whispered.

“Love you more, Dolly,” he murmured, his voice a soft promise against your hair.

———————————˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊————————————-

[dollyfetti]

katsuki loves your lip balm.

he’ll buy you as many different flavors and brands as you’d like, just to see the shimmery glisten it brings upon your lips. he especially loves seeing you when you’re all ready for bed, bonnet/scrunchie in your hair, your face all moistened and soft, and your lips adorably glossy.

he loves grabbing your chin and smushing his lips onto yours, smearing the product everywhere on your chin and his. he pulls back with the dorkiest grin that spreads even wider when you whine about having to reapply and your chin being all sticky.

he loves it so much that he’ll spend hundreds of dollars on it per month just to see it on you.

[rafeandonlyrafe]

handlebars

words: 1.9k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, male and female receiving oral, face fucking, golf, rafe calling reader slut and whore but lovingly lol, established relationship, female masturbation kinda, bit of a dom/sub relationship but really its just rafes personality, semi public sex

“princess.” rafe presses a kiss to the top of your head as you're sat at your vanity, dabbing some blush onto your cheeks.

“mhm?” you tilt your head up, allowing rafe to press a kiss to your lips, not used to feeling your kiss without lipgloss, the next step in your makeup routine.

“if you're good for me and don't complain about being bored today, ill let you suck me off on the green.”

“really?” you squeal, turning to get a better look at rafe.

“yeah.” rafe nods. “but no complaining while we are golfing. topper will be joining me so you gotta wait until after we are done.”

“im gonna be so good rafey, promise.”

“i know you will, good girl.” rafe bends to give you another kiss. “finish getting ready, im gonna go load my clubs into the car.”

“mkay.” you nod. “love you, handsome.”

“i know you do, baby.” rafe smirks before leaving the room.

you turn back to your mirror, quickly finishing your makeup before getting an idea.

you part your hair down the middle before tying them into pigtails on either side, adding a pink ribbon around either hair tie, pulling a couple strands out to frame your face.

you skip down the stairs, dressed in your favorite golfing outfit. despite never playing and just watching rafe, you love to dress the part, wearing a tight white athletic tank top and a flouncy pink skirt, so short it shows off your matching pink underwear way too easily with just the slightest bend of your hips.

“shit.” rafe smiles up at you. “can't wait to strip those clothes off you later.”

“why thank you baby.” you give a twirl, showing off your outfit to rafe, knowing the ultimate compliment on your clothing is to tell you how much he wants to rip them off of you.

“im gonna have to kill top if he even looks at you with your tits out like this.” rafes arms wrap around your waist to pull you tightly against his front, lifting your feet up off the ground.

you wrap your legs around his hips, pressing sticky kisses and leaving pink gloss behind as rafe carries you outside, placing you in his passenger seat that has become yours, your name even added in rhinestones to the sun visor next to the mirror.

you hum along to rafes music and cycle between looking out the window and looking over at rafe as he drives, the muscles on his arms defining his every turn on the way to the country club.

“oh, there's toppers truck.” you point as rafe pulls into the parking lot, grumbling something about you knowing what his truck looks like before pulling into a spot.

you wait for rafe to walk around to open your door, helping you step down and keeping your hands held tight together as he grabs his clubs and slings them over one shoulder.

“hi topper.” you smile as you see him sat in a cart, quickly moving to the back as you approach.

“hey rafe.” topper says, completely ignoring your hello, but you know it's not due to being rude.

“no complaining, remember.” rafe says as you slide along the bench seat, making sure not to move too far so your thigh touches rafes as he gets in to drive.

“i remember.” you nod. “i will definitely not complain when i get really really super bored.”

rafe shakes his head, an unwilling smile growing on his face as he drops one hand down to your thigh, squeezing it so tightly you almost cry out before he releases and puts the cart into drive, speeding towards the first hole.

--

“i was so good, wasn’t i?” you turn your head to the side to look at rafe as he drops topper back at the parking lot.

“i mean, you started complaining when we played 18 holes instead of 9.” rafe tsks.

“okay, but only for like a second before i remembered! come on rafe,” you lean over him, placing your hand on his chest, fingers ghosting up and down to entice him. “don’t you want me to suck you off?”

“of course i do.” rafe captures your lips in a kiss, tugging you closer to his side as he takes off again, navigating the course to an isolated spot.

“finally.” you move to your knees on the cart, watching as rafe stands and walks to the passenger side of the cart, keeping his back towards the main part of the club just in case anyone comes by. 

you reach forward, tugging on rafe shorts, undoing the zipper and button and pulling the sides of his pants apart. you reach into his pants and pull his cock out from his underwear, already starting to harden.

“i love it when i get my mouth on you and you’re still soft.” you press kisses along his length, feeling it grow under your lips before placing the head of his cock into his mouth, swiping your tongue over the slit.

“you’re such a whore.” rafe laughs. “dressed up like a slut and now you’re acting like it too.” 

you just nod, not willing to take your mouth off his cock just to acknowledge how much of a slut you are for him. you both already know what the truth is. 

rafe hardens in your mouth as you begin to move your head up and down, building up a slow pace that allows you to enjoy the taste of his skin, tongue sliding along the underside of his length.

“faster, baby.” rafe taps your cheek.

you pull off and frown up at him. “let me enjoy sucking you off. you said you’d let me.” 

“yeah but i wanna see what you can do. impress me.” 

the challenge from rafe works immediately as you wrap your lips around his cock, head bobbing up and down a lot quicker now as you build up tolerance in your throat, rafes length and girth too much to take him all the way down immediately.

“that's my girl.” rafe smiles down at you. “doing so good baby.”

you take a deep breath through your nose and move forward, pushing your nose into rafes shirt as you swallow around his length, resisting the urge to smile as you hear rafe moan.

“fuck.” 

you squeeze your eyes shut, determined to keep his cock all the way down your throat for as long as you can.

“god, you just keep getting better at this darling.”

you pull off and drop your head to cough before smiling up at rafe. “wanna fuck my mouth now?”

rafe leans down to kiss your forehead. “im gonna put a ring on your finger one day baby, i swear.”

“you better.” you know you're still young, but you can't wait for the day you can call yourself mrs. cameron.

rafe straightens back up, smearing the head of his cock over your mouth, coating your lips in a second layer of gloss.

rafe grabs onto your pigtails as your mouth opens, keeping your throat as slack as you can as his hips push forward.

rafe moves your head in unison with his thrusts, fingers knotting around the pink ribbon to keep his grip.

you have to reach forward and place your hands on his thighs to keep from falling forward, your knees no doubt turning bright red as they scrape back and forth with the power of his movements.

rafe doesn't bother holding back his moans as he tugs on your pigtails, hips undulating and rocking, hoping he's far enough from anyone else to hear his groans and gasps of your name.

“next will be your pussy.” rafe smirks down at you. “as soon as we get home im getting in that delicious little cunt of yours.”

you moan around his cock, thighs squeezing together as you think of all the times rafes been inside of you.

rafe tugs your pigtails, holding them like handlebars on a bike as his cock grows in your mouth. he wishes he could go for longer, to fuck your mouth for hours, but the thought of getting home to your pussy makes him too excited to hold himself back.

“gonna cum right down your throat.” rafe says, grunting as his hips speed up. “unless you want me to paint your pretty face for everyone to see.”

you moan again, the sound vibrating around rafes cock as your hand drops to your pussy, pressing over your underwear to give your clit some relief.

“you like that huh?” rafe questions. “want everyone at the country club to see my cum dripping down your face?”

you push your hand under your panties, rubbing at your wetness, a finger plunging into your heat.

“hey, cut that out.” rafe tugs on your pigtails. “you can rub your clit but don't open up your cunt for me. that's my job.”

you groan but move your fingers back to your clit, leaving your pussy to clench around nothing.

“don't worry, bunny.” rafe pats your cheek. “you'll be bouncing on something soon enough.”

rafe moans as your tongue flicks over the underside of his length, throat constricting as you swallow along his cock.

“fuck, close.” rafe warns, pumping his hips forward with renounced speed. 

rafes cock swells in your mouth and there's mere seconds before he releases, cum spurting down your throat.

“fuck!” he moans, giving one last thrust before pulling out.

you take a deep breath, hand still moving on your pussy as rafe breaths deeply, checking over his shoulder before tucking his softening cock back into his pants.

“stop that.” rafe hums, eyes dropping to between your legs.

“im so close.” you whine, keeping your fingers thrumming over your clit.

“yeah, and i wanna be the one to make you cum so stop.”

rafe picks you up and places your bum on the seat, frowning when he sees your knees. he presses kisses to each of the red splotches.

rafe pushes your thighs open next, pulling your hand out of your underwear as he tugs them to the side.

you didn't expect rafe to surge forward, mouth greedily eating your cunt, slurping on your wetness.

“fuck!” you squeal, head falling back as he focuses in on your clit, sucking with the taste of you on his tongue, sticking it out to flick over your clit.

“im- im gonna cum!” you warn, fingers tangling in his hair, pressing his face further into your cunt.

his mouth keeps working as you reach your high, moaning out rafes name as your clit pulses against his tongue.

he moves lower to press against your entrance, briefly dipping in. “gonna fuck you so soon.” he whispers, and you swear it's more to your cunt than it is to you.

“shit.” you fall back against the seat as rafe rearranges you, flinching when his hand brushes against your clit while putting your panties back in place.

“better not be sensitive by the time we get home.” rafe says, flipping your skirt back down to cover you before he shrugs. “or be sensitive, im fucking you either way.”

“you're such a dick.” you giggle as rafe drops his head to kiss you, lips melting together, the shared taste on your tongue mixing.

“love you.” he says. “future wifey. you give the best head.”

“wow, thanks.” you roll your eyes sarcastically, hands moving to your pigtails as rafe rounds the cart to drive back.

“you know, you really messed up my hair.” you frown, attempting to fix your bows without a mirror to look in.

“yeah, you can't wear that style again.” rafe looks over at you. “unless you want me to fuck your face every time.”

“well…” you tap your chin, a smile growing.

[haikyu-mp4]

The other Jackals always wonder why Sakusa spends so much time on the treadmill when he could be lifting weights with them.

Who the hell enjoys the treadmill that much?

Hopefully, they’ll never find out that it’s because he can stare out the window, where you work in a little café across the road.

He lives for the days you come outside to water the flowers or something and send him a soft smile with a cute little wave, recognising him from the times he stopped by to get coffee.

One day he’ll have to man up and ask you out, but for now, he’s happy with waving back.

masterlist

[moechies]

:¨ ·.· ¨: ୨୧ somno w toji

somno with toji never works :( he’s simply too big, and any part of him inside of you would wake you up in an instant, no matter how deep of a sleeper you are.

you proved this true the one time toji came home later than normal from a weighted job, scruffy and worn. yearning for some love from his dearest, cutest wife, jittery at the thought of your sweet lips against his own, and your soft skin pliant against his.

although worried, you had put yourself to sleep on the couch outside of your guy’s bedroom, a plated meal warmed and covered in a wrap for his hoped upon arrival. upon staggering upon the doorstep, fidgeting the key into the hole to get the lock open, he’s greeted by the soft, warm atmosphere of what hes able to call home.

his eyes set on your pliant body sprawled across the couch, body sunk into the soft pillows beneath you. your snoozy face on display due to you laid on your side, and a little knit blanket limps across your tummy. you’re wearing one of his over-sized shirts with a thin pair of panties, delicate lace and a strung bow that details the rim of it.

although originally admiring your soft body laying so peacefully, he can’t help the way his eyes divert to the sight of your chubby cunt, hugged so snugly by the crotch of your panties.

it’s adorable, honestly.

he makes his way towards you with ill intentions, dropping his belongings as he strides towards you.

soft snores reverberate through your body, paying no mind to the huge man mounting you from the side. he curses himself silently when all he can imagine is a sweet imagine of your is your fucked our face imprinted in his head, cute drooly mouth and crystalline tears painting your cute cheeks. his ears ring with your little mewls and cries of his name, little hand grappling at his much larger bicep trying your best to ask for a kiss.

he feels his cock ache and throb against your warm thigh as his mind surpasses all of these perfect moments, wasting no time before tugging at the silk embellishment of a belt, shimmying off his pants and discarding them on the ground. he hoists your soft leg onto his shoulder, shirt lifting along side it allowing him an open view to your perfect cunt, and your perfect slit. he doesn’t know what to do with himself.

although racked with guilt, head pulsing with anger at his poor self control, he can’t help but replay certain moments in his head; where you’d beg him to use you, conscious or not.

with honeydew tears rolling down your face, desperately holding the man impossibly close, mewling in his ear, ‘use me, use me, use me !” and all you ask in return is a sweet kiss on the lips. he chuckles at the thought, you, who others assume to be such a dear, gentle as a fawn, cute as a doe, the most innocent of all, compared to the version of you only toji knows. he’s utterly blessed.

his mind acts as a record, one that doesn’t stop playing, one which each and every film is of your sweet, sweet self. he’s not long into his fantasy before he finds himself mindlessly humping against your clad pussy, a thick layer of slick beginning to form from the simulation.

he lets out a mere laugh, tugging the crotch aside to be met with the prettiest sight of your worked up cunny. the sheen coat of arousal does nothing but highlight your pearly clit, and milky hole, all ready to take your favorite. your breath has labored, eyes squeezed tight, and cheeks flushed with a light rose, outcries for your dearest lover; ‘toji, toji, daddy— d . . daddy,’

his pride can’t help but swell at cute commentary unconsciously slipping from your lips; to know that even in you’re sleep, you were dreaming of him.

as his hand holds your panties aside, the other tugs his cock out from the confinements of his boxers, dragging the sloppy tip against your slit. he watches the two textures of arousal mix against eachother, his creamier pre blend into your clear slick. he can almost feel himself staring at the mess through heart-shaped lenses, obsessed with how your hole pulses around his mere cock head.

he feels your body twitch against his, leg shivering lightly, as you huff. much as if you had been awake, other than your usual whining and rushing, tugging at his much larger hips to hurry.

he finally lands above your hole, pressing lightly against the wet flesh, assuming he’s being diligent with his movements in order not to wake you. he watches as your soft cunt swallows his pudgy cock head as if it’s a right, fat lips hugging his cock head tight.

his technique doesn’t work too well.

his mere tip sits comfortably inside you when he hears you whimper loudly at his initial movement, eyelashes fluttering as you wake yourself with heavy pants. your leg attempts to retract, but he keeps a easy grip in order to keep you still. your cries grow louder, completely oblivious as to what’s happening around you in your woozy state. you flinch at the scarred hand that lays against the soft skin of your face,

“it’s jus’ me, honey. don’t fret.” toji comforts, smiling at the way your head turns to face his, brows furrowing in confusion.

“o . . owie—“ you react regarding his cock head protruding your cunny from below, “t-toji,” your hand grips at his fingers weakly, slowly adjusting to the ‘foreign’ feeling of his cock.

“mhm.. that’s right, darling girl. y’slept well?” you shake your head quickly, pouting up at the man above you. he tilts his head to the side, anticipating your explanation.

“ ‘s ‘cause you w-weren’t home. m-missed y’so much, toji.” you sniffle, tugging his arm in order to pull him closer.

“oh, poor baby.” he replies solemnly, reaching down to press a loving kiss onto your forehead. you feel him nudge himself deeper, squeaking at the unprepped stretch.

“heh.. missed you so much too, doll. y’know that?” he cups the side of your face, shallow and short thrusts of his cock. more than enough to get him off perfectly. you nod your head rapidly with shut eyes, fists clenched into little balls against your chest at the overwhelming simulation.

“y’r doin’ s’good. ‘s almost over doll, t-then i’ll put ya to sleep.”

“w-wait hnn— m gonna cum !”

he snickers at your meek whines, teasing you slightly,

“already? this pussy’s so sensitive, sweet doll.”

he knows it’s the mixture of you barely conscious, added onto the intense simulation of his cock pounding against your gummy walls over and over, but he loves the little helpless glare you shoot him, silently begging him to let you cum.

“please, please—“

“shh darlin,’ no need to beg. cum, cum f’me, doll.”

and with a couple deep strokes, his cock overwhelmed by the way your cunt pulses and squeezes around him, he cums a potent load into the depths of your womb.

he jets a milky and viscous stream of thick cum into you, seemingly never ending as he slowly rides out his high by lazily humping into your spent cunt.

his eyes can’t help but pace back and forth from your lewd expressions to the creamy mess below, watching his load spread across your chubby folds and dirty the inside of your thighs.

sweet whispers of ‘love you, love you,’ fall from the lips of the man, pressing wet kisses all over your face. you nuzzle against his face, kissing down his jaw, entertaining his needy behavior that you surely wouldn’t see for a while.

[mcyt-daily-drabbles]

Drabble 4 - BigB's Soulbound Secret

What a week. 

More than a week, actually. Eight days of exciting new experiences, secrets, betrayal, and death.

…

And dog ears.

It was nice, if unexpected, having something like that binding him to his soulmate. Fun for sure, but BigB’s glad it’s over now.

…It should be over, now.

His dog ears still swivel on his head, pinning back in concern.

And a tail—a tail that is attached to him and moving—almost makes him yelp.

He thought everything ended when he and Ren died, but their connection mustn’t have severed properly. 

Grian’s got a lot to explain.

[lolxdswag123]

Nobody gets me like you (pt 11)

Rafe Cameron x Reader

Summary: y/n and Rafe have been best friends for years. They are completely inseparable. Everyone around them insists that there’s something more, but Rafe and y/n have an unspoken agreement that they won’t cross that line and ruin the friendship. When other people get involved that agreement gets harder to keep… will they be able to?

Series Masterlist

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[lustagel]

do u ever think..... that rafe would manhandle you if u try to run away from his cock bcuz it's too much 4 you? i caaaan't stop thinking abt dis :(( i jus wanna be dicked down by him sbaddd!!!

omg yes! he wouldn’t even hesitate to pull you back on him, he’s still soft about it though 𐫱 eighteen plus.

“s’ too much!” you’ll pout, head smushed into the pillow. his full body weight on your back as his lips brushed against your ear. his heavy panting and light groans fanning your ear as he fucks you deep. your pussy was completely contradicting your words, it just squeezing him in tighter and leaking profusely. “no, no. you got this, baby. you can take it,” he whispers, thrust staying constant.

his encouraging words are enough to make your head go foggy and your throat let out whine. you wanna be good but the way his pink tip made constant contact with the spot that made your stomach tighten and eyes water— really was too much.

“can’t.” you whimper, lowering your hips onto the mattress further, trying to create some distance so he wouldn’t hit so deep inside and he notices— quickly. “come on. take it for me, ya?” his almost pleads with you, eyes low focused on how good you feel around him, intoxicated by you. he’s quick to loop his arm under you to grab just above your waist, your lower stomach, and lift your bottom half from the bed completely, pulling your ass flush against his hips.

the sudden movement making you yelp, his tip kissing that yummy spot just like before. “be good for me, ya? wanna give you everything.”