#it helps my sanity

[rdm00n]

Ding Ding Ding* Oorder upp!!

:D

[likesomeoneinlovee]

𝐋𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐣𝐚𝐰

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Word count: 2k

Summary: A frustration fueled Joel comes back from scouting with a very prominent issue.

Warnings: PORN NO PLOT. Teasing, thigh riding, throat-fucking, oral m!receiving, Joel calls himself daddy (my bad 😵‍💫), pussy & dick pronouns my absolute love.

A/N: this was all written within the span of an hour so my bad, this is what ovulation does to a bitch.

Home alone. For three whole hours.

Joel went out scouting.

Your eyes that whole time had been staring holes into the floral wallpaper of the flat, without much to do -or, more realistically without the man you’ve been thinking about doing all fuckin’ day. It was a draining experience. Your fingernails peeling up the flesh of your thighs as you sunk further, deeper into his living room couch. It smelled like him. The musky scent he wore all seeped into the upholster.

The sound of the front door’s lock clicking once he had inserted the key made your ears perk, hours of listening to your own heartbeat the time you weren’t desperately trying to stimulate your accumulating thoughts about him. The touch, the feeling of his body that you’ve only felt one whole time in which you had never gotten it off your brain. Thick fingers running along the puffy, sopped folds of your pussy, stretching you. Running his free, spit slicked palm over and all the way down his cock to get himself ready. The feeling of his girth forcing into your hole.

You’d never forget.

The door would creak open before you locked onto him. A thick hand wrapped around one of the straps of his supply bag before he dropped it onto the ground next to the door, a long exasperated sigh escaping past his parted lips. Running thick fingers through the greying curls on his head.

“Fuck.”

Cursing, Joel would walk past you and to the kitchen, opening the first cupboard which to his luck had some booze in it. A stale, half empty bottle of said booze. Popping the cap off, taking a swig.

Finding it difficult to look away while the man did something as simple as drink, the sight of his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down his throat as the bready liquid moved down the pharynx.

Satisfied from the liquid quenching his thirst he walked back over to the couch, sitting down directly next to you, his thigh touching yours. Hadn’t been able to notice earlier whether it was the angle or how fast he walked through the house, his cock was writhing tightly against his jeans. Sunrays shone through the windows, curtains open. Yellow hued light outlining the bulge. Clearly he had been like this for a while. His worn palms running down his face.

Your lips parted, tongue tied by the sight. It was a test, surely.

With little-to-none resistance your hand reached out to place on his thigh, one of your fingers would stretch to touch the curve sticking out in his jeans, the pad of your index hardly applying any pressure before tracing his dick, watching it jump before you felt Joel’s hand grab your wrist.

“All day- All fuckin’ mornin’, baby.”

Fingers twisting over the skin on your arm, another twitch from his cock would draw in your attention. He’s been waiting.

“You didn’t have to come all the way back here. You have a hand.”

Stating as if there wasn’t a pool of your own slick in the middle of the lace underwear you had only dug through your drawer to find earlier in the day. On your mind all day was this very moment, you had been counting every tick from the clock as you waited for him to walk into the room and fuck your face.

“I swear to fuckin’—“

His legs spread open over the cushion, tapping his boot against the hardwood. Impatient.

To reiterate again, waiting all fucking day. Now with you here the thought of waiting another second had him struggling. Wearing loose boyshorts around your hips as you sat there he’d lean over you, hooking his finger to the hem before yanking them off those pretty legs. A palm he had placed on your low stomach now sliding til his hand was underneath the white, lace panties he oh-so-loved. His tall finger slipped past your clit, into your swollen slit. You’d mewl.

Soaked.

“Knew it.”

He yanked you onto his thigh, moving his hand down to your ass, squeezing, fat spilling between his fingers. Luckily his second hand had been lazily resting at his side now had a purpose, up your back and to the back of your head to hold onto your hair. His lips slamming into yours. No mercy behind the kiss.

Your hips began rolling at a quick pace, your cunt slowly coming un-covered with every thrust down into his jean clad thigh. His tall finger finding his way back to your hole beneath your underwear, tracing it with his thick digit. Pulling his lips back from yours with a wet smack.

“She’s fuckin’ droolin’.”

He’d drawl, to no avail you’d try to force that finger into you by a buck of your hips downward. Thus, he’d withdraw. A reward game, you’ll earn his fingers later.

One more long grind down into his thigh that’d surely serve you a friction burn later and you were off his leg. Dropping onto your knees in front of his lap. You’d swear you’ve only dreamt of being in a position like this. Your smaller hands started at his calves before resting on his thighs. His coffee eyes staring into yours.

He wouldn’t waste precious time now, unbuckling his belt to toss it away. Unzipping his jeans to shove them to his upper thighs, the last article of suffrage being his boxers, a dark wet spot painfully obvious on the grey cotton. He’d tug on the elastic that rimmed the top before tugging his briefs to his upper thighs, with the quick pull his cock sprung up slapping against his tummy.

His shaft was turning red. Tip pulsating. His thumb ran down to spread the bead of precum over him, laminating the dark pink bulb til’ it looked like glass. A flutter in your stomach at the sight.

“Stick your tongue out.” He’d just barely manage to groan.

Control now gained with his fingers wrapped around his base. Your knees now hitting the base of the couch, it was as close as you could get. Obeying the commands you opened your mouth, your pink, saliva slicken tongue sticking out.

His cock slapped against your tongue, driving it into your wet hole with his free hand as his other worked into your hair, his fingers forming an O around your thick locks as a makeshift hair tie. Though, you’d find this was better.

He was fuckin’ big. Even taking him into your pussy didn’t do him justice, only truly able to fit him halfway into your small mouth.

It wouldn’t be enough for him.

His hips would buck forward, his cockhead hitting the back of your throat. Involuntarily your throat would clench - teetering the lines of a gag and a spasm of your muscles. Though, your eyes began to gloss over.

The knot in your pelvis tightened while Joel craned his neck back against the back of the couch letting out a long, rough groan. Such a tough girl, he’d figure a few good thrusts wouldn’t be the thing that’d ruin you.

Another buck of his hips sent a wrack through his body, fucking his thick cock into your throat. Your drool dribbling down his shaft. Your eyes hadn’t unlocked with his own ‘less they were going to roll back into your skull with every hit to the very back of your tongue. A moan bubbled up from your tightened throat, vibrating up the thick length of his dick. You could taste how his vein would throb and pulsate against your cheek. No doubt he was close.

With your mouth managing to take every. Last. Inch. Of him so deeply. There was no way he could last.

Your own thighs would clench together as your eyes finally took a break from straining upwards to now clenching shut. Your juices collecting all in the middle of your panties. Your clit throbbing excruciatingly hard. You knew better than to touch yourself. Focusing and giving your body up to the task at hand.

Joel’s breaths turning into deep pants. His balls tightening, drawing up. Though he had a better idea than just cumming straight on the spot despite that just being the thing he’s been pining for all fucking day. Tugging on the hair falling between his fist he pulled your head back, his cock extruding from your mouth with an audible, wet ‘pop!’ sound. Glossy eyes gazed into his as his flickered down to his cock, jumping straight up once released from your mouth one big mess of his precum mixing with your salivation.

“Makin’ such a mess of him, huh?” He’d grunt. Completely gawked by the sight. “Such a fuckin’ mess of daddy’s cock.”

You could’ve sworn this man was giving your pussy a heartbeat.

Before you could give any sort of catty response his cock was shoved back into your mouth, giving you no time to readjust, to get used to the feeling of his burning tip knocking at the back of your throat. Managing by the grace of God to stowaway your gag reflex seemingly just for the evening. His pace slowing, beginning to get sloppy quicker. You’d have a lot to say if you didn’t have a mouthful. Though, deep down you knew that your unhealthily cock-drunk brain would be unable to formulate a coherent sentence. One with both sense and grace.

“Just. Like. That.” He punctuated.

Thrusting deeper til your nose was bobbing up and down against his pelvis. Nuzzling into the scent that came within the dense thicket of greying, wiry hairs. All curled around and crowing his base. You felt the thick vein that traveled all the way down the girth of his dick pulsate against your overstuffed cheek. A whine from you would only shake up his shaft. His tummy tightening up, hips spasming. Another violent thrust to the back of your tongue those built up tears to freely fall down your cheeks.

Again.

Sliding his cock from your lips to shove it back in again. Every time taking the split second to admire all that drool dripping down the line of his strained cock.

“Fuck! Baby—“ Absolutely strained.

He’d throw his head back, bumping it against the back of the couch as he let out a long, throaty moan. He pulled out of your mouth, the overused motion you’ve grown so very accustomed to, though this time your tongue stayed out, perfectly so as he was able to paint the pink muscle with hot, thick ropes of cum. Pumping his fist over his cock as ropes of semem shoot down your tongue and straight to the back of your throat. Painting his own perfect masterpiece on the fleshy canvas of your mouth.

Swallowing every last droplet as if it were liquid gold.

His stomach rose and fell heavily with each breath, his hand reached out to grab your chin, the pad of his thumb pressing down on your glossy bottom lip. Every. Last. Drop. Though, he just had to make sure.

“That’s what I like to see, babygirl.” He’d praise. Lazily tugging up his boxers so he could conceal his freshly mouth-fucked cock, concealing with another layer courtesy of his unzipped jeans. Sure, you finished him the fuck off but that didn’t mean he was gonna soften up anytime soon.

You’d just hardly make it back onto your trembling legs as you looked at him, panties slid to the side from unconsciously grinding against the cold, wooden floors. A droplet of that warm, glue-like slick trickling down your inner thigh once you stood up. Joel’s eyes followed the stray tear.

“Goddamn, baby. Lemme take care of that for you.”

That’s what you like to hear.

Standing up from the couch with a long grunt he’d lift you off of your feet, carrying you straight to his bed. Soon enough he’d be two knuckles deep into your aching pussy, giving you all that sweet pleasure you so deserved after earning it so fuckin’ well.

[sugar-on-fries]

IM DONEEEE

This took three daysss but it was worth it :]

also the oc's :3

very creative names I know wouldn't it be funny if sunny's twisted form was crawling on the ceiling with a stupid spotlight

[viperify]

oneshots | ᴛᴏᴍ ʀɪᴅᴅʟᴇ X ɢʀʏꜰꜰɪɴᴅᴏʀ ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

₊˚. 🂼 Losing Game. | pt 2

Short Summary: Tom tells you to meet him in the Potions classroom—something quite unusual on a Friday evening, especially the day you get to know you lost the second bet as well…

Warnings: 18+ only! impact play, fingering, slight choking, unprotected p in v, praise, cum play, creampie

A/N: I should have studied instead of writing this. I didn’t. I need Tom to make bets with me next.

wordcount: 2,0k

read part 1 before! <3

You should know it is not just another ordinary tutoring lesson. Not at 8pm on a Friday. Not in the potions classroom he claims to have the right to use as a head boy. Especially not on the day you got your exam results back—the one you should have outscored him on—but, again, didn’t.

The truth is, you didn’t intend to. Didn’t even try.

Not because you didn’t want to—by any means, even now that your relationship has improved, you would still gladly take any chance to humble him.

But what he had told you—what he’d want from you in case you lost again—stuck with you. The tone of his voice, the smug expression on his face—the one that, since childhood, has made you want to wrap your hands around his throat—sends your mind spiraling. Keeping you up at night, having you press your thighs together as his words replay in your head.

If I outscore you tomorrow, I get to fuck you—properly.

Thoughts you never expected you’d have played in your mind—not about him. Not about Tom Riddle, the person you are supposed to despise.

So, naturally, when he tells you to meet him that evening, not in the library like usual but in the Potions classroom—you can’t help but think.

Assume.

Expect.

You get ready. Scrambling through your drawer until something catches your attention—a matching set of lace underwear. You contemplate. If this is just another tutoring session, you’ll feel pathetic, but if it’s not…

You decide to put it on.

It’s already dark when you leave your dorm. One hour before curfew means most people are in their respective dormitories, allowing you to reach the classroom without being seen. A flicker of hesitation forms in your chest when your hand touches the cool metal of the door handle, but after a second, you push it down and step inside.

Your eyes scan the place as you walk further into the only faintly illuminated place, but there is no sign of him. Cauldrons and open textbooks on one of the desks are the only things that catch your attention, and you assume it might just be another ordinary tutoring session after all—

“Delusional, you said?”

You shriek as his words cut through the silence, turning around to face him, but you don’t get the chance to respond. His lips are on yours just a split second later, stealing your breath away while his hands make quick work of your robes, carelessly dropping the freshly washed fabric to the floor. You make a low sound of disapproval at that, but he doesn’t stop, fingers now hastily working at the buttons of your blouse—never breaking the kiss.

He wants you bare in front of him, no, needs to finally see what you have been hiding from him until now, feel your gorgeous curves without the barrier of clothes. To mark you as his.

Tonight he would finally get to touch you properly, not like the first time he had you on your knees in here, not like the countless times he had you pressed up against bookshelves in the library during your tutoring lessons since then, kissing down your neck like a man starved.

A cool breeze sends a shiver down your spine as the last piece of fabric falls to the floor, leaving you in nothing but your underwear—and by then he must have realised, because he just stares at you for a short moment, eyes wandering over your exposed skin with the same spark in them as he had at the party.

“You planned this, didn’t you?” Tom muses, his thumb tracing along the waistband of the lace adorning your hips. “You lost on purpose,” he adds, fingers tilting your chin upwards so you are forced to meet his gaze. “so I’d fuck you.”

You feel your cheeks heating up—because deep down you know he is right, and that you shouldn’t have underestimated how quickly he’d find out about it. Still, you refused to admit it, shaking your head.

“No, I—“

Slap.

Before you can even finish your sentence, his palm comes down on the side of your face, not hard enough to hurt, merely leaving a slight sting that feels, if anything, more pleasant than painful. Only when his hand caresses over the spot he has just struck do you look back up at him, darkened eyes staring down into yours.

“Don’t lie to me.”

Before you know it, his hand is wrapped around your upper arm, dragging you towards the middle of the classroom, bending you over one of the desks so your upper body is flush against the cool wood.

Your breath catches as he nudges your legs apart with his knee, fingertips brushing over your inner thighs, slowly travelling up until he reaches the damp fabric of your panties. Tom’s second hand presses down between your shoulder blades, making sure you stay exactly where he wants you as his fingers slip beneath the lace, pushing the material to the side. He huffs at the sight of your cunt, already glistening with arousal, not yet touching you—but thinking of how he will ruin you tonight.

“Tom—“ you whimper weakly, instinctively trying to close your legs at how exposed you feel, bent over in front of him as his palm brushes over your cunt, feeling your need for him. But he doesn’t allow it—his leg stays firmly between yours, keeping you spread open for him.

“Too late to be shy now, sweetheart.” He mocks, fingers slipping between your folds, gathering your arousal as he trails lower, teasingly circling your entrance before he pushes inside, drawing soft moans and gasps from you. He knows just how to curl them to have your back arch, working you open, preparing you for him.

“So wet for me already. Been thinking about this the entire day, haven’t you?” He drawls, withdrawing his fingers before he brings them to your mouth, fingertips pressing against your lips as he asks you to part them for him. “Taste yourself. Taste your shame.”

Reluctantly you obey his command, allowing him inside until you feel him press against your tongue, tasting yourself on his skin. He waits for you to pull back, to tell him he’s ridiculous like you have done so many times—but it never comes, instead, you swirl your tongue around his fingers, cleaning yourself off him just like he told you to.

And that’s when he knows he’s got you wrapped around his finger.

The next thing you hear is his belt dropping to the floor with a thud, and you turn your head to watch him undo the zipper of his trousers, meeting his eyes—eyes that shine with a dark hint of satisfaction. His fingers then travel down your spine with the faintest touch, tugging at the waistband of your panties until they too fall to the ground, left to pool at your ankles.

And then, you feel him. Pressing against you before his tip slips between your folds, coating himself in your slick, faintly brushing over your swollen clit—teasing you, testing your restraint even as you try to buck your hips against him, chasing any friction you can find.

He wants you, needs you just like he knows you need him—but he craves to hear you beg for him, he longs for you to finally shatter and submit to him.

“You think you deserve it yet? Beg for it, beg for me to give you what you want.”

“Fuck you, Riddle.”

A harsh slap on the curve of your ass sends your body jolting forward as far as the wood beneath you allows you to. “And here I thought we were over that name.”

“Tom— fuck, please. Please, I want to feel you,” you whine, too lost in the ecstasy of his touch to complain. His fingers tangle in your hair, yanking your head back as he leans in, his hot breath ghosting over your skin.

“Again.”

You are aware he is toying with you, shamelessly using the position he has you in to prove his point—prove that he is in power. And yet—

“Merlin, Tom— please.”

“Good fucking girl,” he breathes, allowing you to rest your head on the desk as he aligns himself with your slick entrance, hands finding a firm grip on your hips, which you know will leave bruises for you to remind you of him—his touch. You feel him pushing past your resistance then, splitting you apart around him with the most blissful sting.

He doesn’t wait for you to adjust to his size, burying himself to the hilt with one sharp, calculated thrust that has you cry out, knuckles turning white from how hard you are holding onto the edge of the desk.

And when his hips are flush with yours, feeling how tight and warm you feel, wrapped around his length so perfectly, a low groan spills over his lips, grip on your hips tightening as if he wanted to stay there forever.

Only when you manage a soft, desperate “please” does he finally move, torturously slowly pulling out of you, letting you feel every ridge and vein of his cock before snapping his hips forwards, burying himself deep once more.

“So greedy.” Tom growls, giving you one more teasing roll of his hips, enough to make you whimper before he sets a steady rhythm, pulling you back against him with every thrust. “Who would have known.”

Your walls clench tightly around his length as he repeatedly brushes against your most sensitive spot, one of his hands wandering underneath you, finding your puffy clit, rubbing tight circles on the sensitive bud.

Your whimpers and moans only spur him on, seeing how your legs tremble. His hips snap against yours mercilessly—almost as if he had a point to prove.

“Feel you clenching around me,” he rasps, hand leaving your clit to wrap around your throat softly, tilting your head backwards. “Come for me. Make a mess, sweetheart.”

It’s the nickname that has you finally tumble over the edge, his name falling over your lips like a prayer as you do, the coil in your lower stomach finally snapping. Your walls eagerly pulse around his cock, drawing a muffled groan from the brunette behind you, his fingertips digging into your flesh at the added sensation.

He fucks you through your orgasm and its aftershocks, never letting up his pace until your body goes limp on the desk, soon spilling himself deep inside of your cunt, painting your walls white with his warm release.

Tom’s chest rises and falls with every deep breath he takes, leaning over you.

“Okay?” He whispers, wiping a strand of hair from your face, pressing a kiss just below your ear.

“Okay.” You reply weakly, thighs trembling, his cock still buried within you. A satisfied grin tugs at the corner of his mouth, placing another kiss on your shoulder before he gently pulls out of you.

A soft whimper falls over your lips as he leaves you empty, hearing him get dressed as you lay boneless on the rough wooden surface. He returns to your side afterwards, his hand tenderly running up your inner thigh.

“Look at you,” he purrs, “so pretty with my cum dripping down your thighs.”

Normally you’d complain, run your mouth, but now—you just hum in agreement, too exhausted to find a snarky comeback.

He laughs softly at your state, two of his fingers gathering his release, pushing it back inside of your sensitive walls. “Can’t let anything go to waste, can we?”

Tom helps you up then, steadying you when your knees are about to give in. Handing you your clothes, he lets you put them on, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

“From now on, no more bets. You are mine.”

And when you wake up in his bed the next day, his arm protectively wrapped around your waist—you know he wasn’t lying.

Thank you for reading!! Feedback is as always appreciated <33

[lostl1sbons1ster]

Ending my summer like her

[pretzel-y]

@doodledrawsthings, ya know, you should be careful with what you wish for, cause your wishes might come true one day

[wheeirts]

journal spread

[bluedeedeedoop]

Barrissoka but its Rupphire..

As you all saw earlier today, I had posted a weird shitpost thing about how the ships BarrissxAhsoka and RubyxSapphire compliment each other well, so I have created a drawing of Barrissoka in Rupphire's color pallets and outfits

A screenshot redraw if you will. (screenshot under the cut). You all know I love me my niche barrissoka shit (cough cough fabric store au cough cough)

[rin-hayata]

Ivantill actor au got me in a chokehold🤭🤭

[tategaminu]

Artway To Arc 3 #1: Photoshoot!

Commision I did in december for @mistwatchestdp, it was really fun. Getting a rayllum commision added 10 years to my life span, thanks Mist!

Artway To Arc 3 (name idea by kati-corn) will be a TDP drawing challenge where I post weekly until Arc 3 is confirmed, (you can join and use the tag if you want to, no need to be deranged like moi and post weekly tho lol)

[sheenpi]

BOOM SHAKALAKAAAAAA YESSSSSS GAWWWDDDDDDDD YESSSSS GAAWWDDDDDD OH MY GAAWD. The manspreading holy fuck me I mean no I mean yes pls holy molyyyyyyyyyyyy y'all seeing my glorious seat?huh😏💋 dw kids he will home soon

[jaylaxies]

the urge to absolutely lick his neck 📈

[sugar-on-fries]

This song was stuck in my head

[porcelainvampyyr]

A little study 🫶🏻 forgot tumblr existed for a second

I literally had to find the drive again to paint after school.

[maskedlenny]

Idk why it’s so low quality

Way too lazy to actually tween Randal this is the best I could do…

[itsaboutbee]

Ninjago au where the only difference is Jay didn't persue Nya early on for one reason or another. But they lowkey become besties because of their shared interest in inventions and mechs etc. Jay thinks Samurai X is the coolest thing ever. But later on Nya started to catch feelings and shes so mad bc how dare it be that nerd of all ppl and she doesnt know what to do-