#[WOOF. THAT'S A LITTLE ON THE NOSE.]

[prcttyinpcnk]

What you need to hear?

it’s going to be okay.

I know it’s not right now. I know it hurts and you’re tired and it’s all so much and you don’t know how to handle it and you don’t want to carry it but you don’t know where can you put it down. I know. I’m sorry. it shouldn’t be this way. you don’t deserve that. but it’s going to be okay. I can’t tell you when or how but I promise it will get better. things can only get better. there will be more love and peace than you can imagine. it is going to be okay. you are going to be okay.

[precambrianhottopic]

i love my cat so much she's my special princess and she is alive and loves me

[canisunfamiliar]

I say this affectionately, but english bull terriers have rocks for brains

[lymtw]

All Is Forgiven

Thinking of an argument with Toji that leaves you mute by choice towards him. He still talks to you and asks you questions, and while you don't turn away from him, you don't respond to him either. He ends up having to figure out whatever he needs on his own because after a minute or so you huff and walk away from the conversation.

"Mama," Toji calls from the bedroom, rummaging through his clothing drawers. "Have you seen my gym shorts?"

If he was able to get a word out of you, he would know that you washed them for him. Though you were still sizzling with anger towards him, you pulled them out of the dryer and walked them over to the room. He could hear your little footsteps as you approached the room, and when he turned to look at you, he noticed you were holding his shorts in your hand.

Your eyes were vacant towards him. You didn't want them to be because it sucks when you can't look at him with the endless amount of love you have in store for him. It's still there, but it's being masked by a poker face.

You toss the shorts onto the bed and leave. Toji sighs, irked by the fact that it's actually starting to sting now. Your disregard for him because you're ruled by your emotions and he lets things go too easily because he can't hold a grudge towards you, even if he feels you're in the wrong.

Toji never knew how much he depended on your voice until you wouldn't let him hear it. He depends on you to tell him where things are because without you they would be scattered all over the place. He doesn't know your method of organization, but somehow when he needs something and looks to you in order to find it, you pull it out from right under his nose. He depends on you to tell him he's doing a good job, and to tell him you love him, and just reassure him in general. It makes him feel good to know that someone thinks he's good enough, but recently the one person who feeds him affection like it's as important as food and water, has left him to starve. You haven't said a word to him in almost two days, and he feels like he's starting to go crazy. The sound of his own voice is driving him insane. It's gotten so bad that he had to make a mental note of how he's going to get you back that same night.

Toji leaves for the gym and texts you during his time there. He includes some images because it's now an unspoken rule that he always has to send you gym pics.

[ Attachment: 3 Images]

... 😳🤐

Yeah, I know you like those. I'll be home soon.

You take the time to doll yourself up while he's still out. It's for him, but you won't tell him that until you come back from your "night out". Really, you're just gonna go get dinner for both of you from his favorite little restaurant. You just want to see how far he's willing to let this go, because you're caving. You're ready to apologize even when you know he's not upset at all. You're ready to spoil him in order to make up for those severe feelings you held towards him. You're ready to hear about how stubborn and unbelievable you are for this little act you pulled.

You spray on some perfume and walk out of the bathroom, just in time to catch Toji walking through the door.

"Woof, where're you going, ma?" He asks, setting down his gym bag before absorbing everything you were gracing him with. His eyes flit up and down your body, lingering on the very bare skin of the legs that come out from under your skirt. He can smell your perfume from where he stands, its elegant scent masking even the smell of his own potent sweat.

You didn't answer his question, and left him to wonder why you're all dressed up at seven o'clock at night. Was it a girl's night or were you openly showing him that you have options? Did he miss a message or a call from you?

You grabbed your wallet and scooted past him. You walked halfway down the corridor of your apartment building before realizing that maybe this was a bit much. You would make him worry over you going on a five minute walk to grab some food? All so you can show him you're mad? You cracked.

🥟🥡🍜.

Toji was staring at his screen, waiting for anything from you. The screen flashes like some sort of miracle and your message is seen by him. He chuckles, feeling a sense of relief wash over him at the sight of your little emoticons.

You came back home as fast as possible, bags of food in hand as you patiently waited for the elevator to bring you up to your floor. You took your time walking through the corridor, this time, not knowing how you would react once you saw Toji or if you would immediately say something to him. You're ready to talk to him, you want to talk to him. You miss him, you love him, and you hate the passiveness you threw yourself into around him as an act of retaliation.

There you were, standing in front of the door, nervous beyond belief for what was behind it. You collected yourself and twisted the doorknob, ready to face anything that came to you.

Toji stood from the couch and walked over to you to take the bags from your hands. The smell of his body wash wafted into your nose. There was an imaginary white flag hanging out of your pocket, and it was about to fall out to signal your surrender to Toji.

He pecks your cheek and watches in real time as color floods into your face. It's one of the most adorable things he's ever seen—you standing there so rigidly afterwards. He gives you a soft smile and resists the urge to coo at you for being so cute. Instead, he heads to the table to put the bags of food down.

You shut the door, and within a split second, Toji was in front of you again. "Ma," he says, sounding a little more desperate than he thought he would. "Say something." You stand there like a statue—unmoving, but unlike a statue, you are easily moveable. Especially, by Toji. "Anything, mama, please." He crouches down at your feet, his warm hands resting on the backs of your knees and his cheek resting on one of your thighs. This position made it look like you were being worshipped by him, and anyone who ever saw him do this would know that it was true, because he worshipped everything about you. From the top of your head, to the ground your feet stood on.

"Don't you miss having my hands on you?" They glide up and down the backs of your thighs. He looks up at your stunned expression. You won't look down at him, so he gets to see the way you swallow the words dying to leave your mouth, and the slight widening of your eyes as he lets his hands roam your lower body. "I know I do. I've been in hell these past couple days." He presses a soft kiss to your knee, then one more on your thigh. "I didn't mean what I said. I don't think you're selfish, baby. Maybe i'm just a greedy asshole," he says, rekindling the subject of what led to your silence towards him. His hand maneuvers around your leg so that his palm is on your thigh, making its way up towards the inner part of it. "But, I know something," his lips trail further up your thigh, softly kissing your skin. "I'm greedy about you. That can't and won't be changed, even when we argue like idiots."

You put your hand on his head as he starts kissing up your inner thighs, making his way even further up beneath your skirt.

"Come on, my sweet girl," he murmurs, his lips meeting the front of your underwear. "Tell me you want me to stop. Tell me you hate that my filthy paws are on you, right now."

Your legs tremble at the lightness of his touch, and you internally cringe at how sensitive you've always been for him.

"Toji..." you gasp. You feel his warm tongue flatten between your legs, a slow upwards drag of the muscle makes your thighs quiver before him. You whimper at the damp warmth his saliva leaves on your panties. "Fuck..." you moan, breathily. "Don't stop. Stay there, please."

The first word you reintroduced yourself with being a moaned out rendition of his name was heaven reaching down to pat him on the back for knowing exactly what to do to get you to talk again.

"Open wider for me, baby. Let me see," Toji says, your skirt still veiled over his head. You take a step back so that your back is against the door and widen your stance a little more. He hooks one of your legs over his shoulder and you shudder when his tongue returns to slide through your clothed folds. He doesn't even need to produce that much saliva to drench the fabric of your underwear because you've done that for him already with your leaking arousal.

You shut your eyes and rest your head against the door as Toji continues his act of filth between your thighs. You can hear him panting below you, your taste pleasantly coating his tongue every time he sucks on the garment that clings to you.

You cry out his name with sharp breaths following, your fingers tangling into his locks, gripping and tugging as his lips catch onto your cunt. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," you grit out, whimpering at the contrast between his mouth and his hands. His hands offer a gentle massage to your thighs, softly kneading the plush between his fingers. His mouth moves purposefully because he knows exactly what it takes to make you fall apart with it. He coats his tongue with your essence every time he laps at the wet patch on your underwear, sticky webs of arousal connecting him to you.

"T-Toji!" You squeal, your cunt throbbing with every brush of his tongue. "I'm gonna cum... Fuck, i'm gonna cum..." you whine.

Toji pushes your underwear to the side, and glides his tongue through your generously slicked folds once and you're instantly arching your back off the door, squirming in his hold and moaning carelessly as he sloppily makes out with your cunt. He desperately chases the sound of your pleasure-ridden voice, wanting to hear the way it raises in pitch when he strokes you just right. He doesn't want it to stop, it's been too long. Two days way too long. You tug at his hair with one hand, dragging the nails of your other hand down the door. You breathe heavily as Toji manipulates your pleasure until your thighs are trembling.

Toji pulls away and lifts your skirt off his head. He lowers your leg back down and stands up from his crouched position. He faces you with glossy lips that shine with all the juices he collected from you, some of it drooling down his chin to give him an even more messy appearance. He presses his lips to yours, making slow movements to allow you to realize what is happening while your eyes are closed. You can taste yourself on his lips as you catch the rhythm.

There's a loud smack in the last kiss before he releases you, a feral look in his green eyes as he dotes on your blissed out appearance. You look too pure for someone who's just experienced something so sinful. "Hey, look at me," he coos, cupping your cheeks in his hands. "Look at me," he repeats, staring at you as you try to catch your breath with closed eyes.

You hum, rolling your eyes open to lazily stare back at him. Your eyelids felt so heavy as you looked at him, but you liked how vigilant he was being. It made you crack a grin, a small gesture that had Toji's heart thudding a little quicker, now.

"I wanna fuck you so bad, mama." His eyes trail yours as they look away from his gaze. "If this is your reaction to my mouth, I don't even know what to expect for when I'm inside you."

You look down to see what's been poking your thigh for the past minute or so, and it's the monster in his pants, outlined for your eyes to quickly spot and everything.

"Come on," you say, reaching your hand out to him. He takes it and allows you to lead him to the bedroom.

Toji shuts the door and locks it to give the situation a deeper level of intimacy. There's no one there but the two of you and yet you feel even more secluded by the gesture.

He wasn't aggressive in the way he bared you for his eyes. He pulled you close to him by the waist, your body against his as he peeled your layers of clothes off.

"Stay," he says, when you take a step back. He takes that step towards you again, placing his hands on your hips, and snaking them around to your back to locate the zipper for your skirt. He exhales through his nose, lidded eyes watching the longing expression on your face closely as he pulls down the zipper and allows the article to fall on the floor. His fingers fiddle with the hem of your shirt before he fully slides his hands beneath it, and raises it up your torso higher and higher. You put your arms up and allow him to slip it off your head.

He makes haste of getting his own clothes off, a sly smirk decorating his face when he sees you admiring him from where you sit on the end of the bed as you take off your bra and underwear. You're forced further up the bed by Toji as he inches closer and closer to you. You reach a dead end and welcome the suffocating warmth of his body as he cages you onto the bed.

"Don't do that to me again, mama," he murmurs, before leaning down to peck your lips. "Don't let me talk to myself for that long when you have such a pretty voice to respond with."

You laugh, pulling a small grin from him. "I didn't think you'd care, to be honest. I thought you'd tell me i'm being childish or ridiculous."

"Nah, princess. I thought I was gonna die."

You giggle, pulling him close again. "You're exaggerating."

"You wouldn't let me touch you. Not even when we went to bed, so it was like we were friends instead of lovers sleeping together. Especially with how far on your side you slept."

"Oh, baby," you coo, pressing multiple quick apologetic kisses to his lips. He chuckles at the affection, and his eyes close instinctively as your kisses become more widespread on his face. He missed this more than anything. "What can I do for your forgiveness, my love?"

"Just let me fuck you, ma. That's all. Give me my privilege to all of this, again." His hand slowly trails from your chest to your stomach, a touch you longed for dearly during those two days that you verbally ignored him.

"It's yours," you whisper to him. You peer up at him with your constellation eyes, silently begging him to realize how much you need him. "I'm yours, so show me the use you have for the privilege over my body, baby."

He leans down to kiss you, softly. He's desperate for you, but his lips don't falter their delicate synchrony because of it. He guides the tip of his cock through your folds, rubbing up and down the slickness a couple times before slowly sinking into you. Your ability to tangle with Toji's lips slowly deteriorates, and your focus strays to the stretching happening lower down your body, so Toji picks up the slack and feeds you his kisses.

"Come on," he groans out. Not even he is immune to the rebirth of sex with you. You're warm and inviting, and you embrace the pain and comfort he offers every time he craves you or you crave him. This time is no exception. "Kiss me back, sweetheart. Give them all to me," he mutters, before attempting to connect his lips to yours again. You dig your heels into the mattress and your toes curl as you feel his girth continue to submerge inside you.

Toji cups your chin and uses his fingers to squish your cheeks together into a makeshift pout for him to kiss. He can hear your hummed little whimpers in response to him sheathing himself further into you. He was being gentle, because hurting you is a crime in his world.

"Fuck, I missed this, mama," he says, goosebumps rising on his torso as he drags himself out of you halfway and pushes himself back in again. "So warm..." he says over the sound of your pleasured moan. He sighs, a grunt following as he starts a careful rocking rhythm into you. "I could stay inside you forever."

"I could keep you here forever," you rephrase, gazing up at him with those eyes he unequivocally loves. They've reverted back to the default loving expression you hold for him, the vacancy of your previous gaze now filled with love, excitement, lust, and overall enchantment. It's a beautiful thing to see your hurricanes subside.

He leans down to kiss you again, distributing the kisses on your face and leading them towards your neck. You could feel his abs dragging up and down your stomach with every roll of his hips against yours.

"Mmm... Toji," you moan, bringing your hands to his back. One of them moves up to the nape of his neck, threading through the dampened locks of his hair, the other traces his spine to distract you from how badly you want to dig your nails into him.

"I know," he coos, kissing the spot beneath your ear. "I know, doll. It's always this good with you."

You gasp at the feeling of his cock prodding the more sensitive area within you. "Right there, right there... Oh..." you moan out, inevitably digging your nails into his shoulder blades while Toji directs his kisses back up your neck and towards your face again so he can see the honest expression on it. You're lost in pleasure, vibrating as another orgasm rushes through you.

"Fuck, mama.. let me-" he groans, outwardly losing it at the overflow of your juices. "Let me see those pretty eyes," he pants, gripping your waist a little more harshly as he feels his cock on the brink of expelling into you. "Need you to watch me," he says, taking in the way your lips part to release your sounds of utter satisfaction. Your eyes flutter open to center on his greedy eyes. You mirror his lustful, lidded gaze, the look enough to make him spill inside you, making your cunt even sloppier. "You're gorgeous, ma," he says, mindlessly, as he fucks into you with a little more fervor. "Fucking stunning," he mutters through pants, to which you respond with a sly smirk. The gesture lured a groan out of him and made his cock twitch as he finished releasing into you.

You giggle when he stills his hips. Your combined attempts to regulate your breathing fills the silence that follows. "What're you laughing at?" He asks, massaging your hip with his thumb.

"You tell me that all the time like you're obsessed with me or something."

"And if I am?" he says with a voice so deep you have to blink to see that it's still your gentle giant of a man. "Is it too much for you? Can you handle it? Am I suffocating you, baby?" he purrs, cupping your cheeks while leaning in close to emphasize his points. All it does is allow you to closely admire how handsome he is and really think about what's happening in this moment. This green-eyed, raven-haired man, with the prettiest pointed nose and the most attractive scarred lips, is bedding you, and doing it so well.

"Never. Come closer and bite," you murmur.

He takes your lips in his again, a little more aggressive than before. You asked him to bite, and that's exactly what he's doing. The make out has him rocking both of you a little faster, working you towards yet another orgasm. You nip at his bottom lip and run your tongue over it when hisses. You hum out a little giggle, and moan into his mouth when he jolts into you.

"God, i'll bust again if you keep doing that. I'm serious, mama" he groans, swiping his tongue over his stinging bottom lip. You think he's being dramatic so when he leans down to kiss you again, you bite his bottom lip and suck on it. You gasp, releasing his lip and stare at him with wide eyes as his excessive warmth spurts into your cunt, filling it to the brim and beyond, to the point of leakage.

"F-Fuck... you're terrible," he groans, shuddering with tense abdominal muscles as he lures the entirety of his orgasm out. "Cum," he says, panting as he picks up the pace of his rutting to get you to follow his orgasm. "I can feel you clenching around me like hell. I know you want to," he says, reaching a hand between you and him to stimulate your clit.

Your already labored breathing picks up and your heart is pounding in your ears aggressively as you roll your hips back against his. You whimper as you feel your peak get closer and closer, a cried out and breathy "fuck!" leaving you when it arrives, followed by high pitched moans that make Toji's heart race. You arched your back off the mattress as you reached the zenith of your orgasm with the help of Toji's finger rapidly rubbing your clit while he maintained his satisfying pace inside you.

You whimper, slapping a hand onto Toji's wrist to stop his movements on you. He smirks at the sight of your trembling thighs, your heaving chest, and the sound of your dazed hums. You always were such a delicate thing. So fragile that even with just enough of his attention, he could break you.

"Tired yet?" He asks, admiring your relaxed facial features. You nod with your eyes closed, your lips parted to release little puffs of air. "Thought you'd be. I'll go grab some towels for us to shower." He pulls out of you, taking a moment to admire your collaborative masterpiece.

"Baby..." you whine, sitting up when you feel his weight lift off the bed. "I can't get up." You dramatically let yourself fall back on the bed and stick your tongue out to portray your exhaustion.

"Get up, you faker. That's all you have to do and i'll take care of the rest."

"Too tired to wash myself right now..." you say, waking up for a second before closing your eyes again. Toji can see the sly grin on your face and the little shake of your stomach as you stifle your giggles.

"Guess you're too tired to eat, too, huh? You know i've got a huge appetite, and I could eat all that food you brought by myself."

"You wouldn't," you say, abruptly sitting up on the bed and squinting at him. "There's enough to feed three people in those bags."

"I've got the stomach of three people in one, so you better catch up before you're left with my seconds."

You sigh, too tired to move, but you get up anyway and trail behind Toji. "Baby, can you pleeease clean me up? I'm beat."

He puts his hands on your shoulders as he now walks behind you. "Sure, but don't complain when I take longer on certain areas."

[themightythornicus]

My cat is the most beautiful and perfectly designed creature I have ever laid eyes on I’m obsessed with her

[charliemwrites]

Good morning! This is just a warm up, not canon to the series.

Anyway — bark, woof, awoo

It’s a cool fall day when you nearly die.

Johnny’s run off into the woods barking - not his scary bark but his excited bark. You’re worried that he’s gonna get his teeth in some poor local wildlife and go hurrying after him, boots unlaced.

Of course it’s hopeless to go chasing after a wolf-dog even running at half speed, but you can’t stand the thought of him coming home with a dead bunny or something. So off you go, clomping through the trees, calling for your big dumb fluffy butt to come home.

But it’s not your Johnny that comes trotting out of the trees. No, it’s an even bigger, wolfier looking dog. Creamy white fur, honey gold eyes, and odd black markings around the face like a skull. You instantly know he’s not like your goofball, a little less human-friendly, perhaps more feral. Looks at you like he’s trying to decide if you’d make a decent meal.

Is someone breeding them and just.., letting them out?? Some weird poorly thought out attempt to reintroduce wolves to the UK? The thought makes you frown, praying that you won’t come out here one day to find some poor pups struggling in the wilderness.

For now though, you’ve got yet another gorgeous animal in front of you.

“Well, hello,” you coo, softening and smoothing your voice. His ears tick forward. “Look at you, handsome thing. Have you seen my Johnny boy?”

The dog tilts his head - your first indication that he is familiar with humans, recognizes the tone of a question. You hum.

“Alright big guy, would you like to come with me to find him or are you doing your own thing?”

He doesn’t respond (of course) except to make a little “ruff” noise. You consider him for another moment, then decide he’s not being aggressive and it’s safe to continue your search.

You turn and continue on the path, calling for Johnny. Don’t get far before your new friend sweeps in front of you, blocking the way forward. You make a noise as you stop quick, nearly losing your balance to avoid stepping on his paws.

“Oh you big jerk,” you huff. He instantly starts pushing at you, big shoulders pressing against your stomach as he shoves a big, wet nose into your neck and face, focusing on your mouth. You roll your eyes and gently push his nose away.

“Knock it off,” you grumble, trying not to laugh. “You wolves are so rude. You don’t need to do that to smell me.”

He moves on to your clothes, all the way down to your crotch. You’re ready this time though, taking a big step back and guiding his face up by the chin.

“No.”

He snorts and shakes off, looking almost annoyed.

“Oh, yeah, how dare I not let you sniff my junk?” you scoff, rolling your eyes. “Grow up, you big baby.”

A deep, raspy grumble starts up in his chest. You ignore him, patting at the thick muscle of his shoulder.

“Yeah yeah, you’re a big scary boy,” you joke. “Ya gonna bite me? Show me your big pretty teeth?”

When you reach for his face he takes a step back, ears flicking. Looks almost shellshocked. You finally break, giggling as you croon baby noises at him.

“Oh, poor boy, did I spook you? I’m sorry, baby. No, no you’re very scary. Very intimidating.” You start scooting around him, amused how curves around you almost like he’s afraid you’re going to touch him. “It’s okay, buddy, I just need to find my boy. I’m not out to get you.”

As if on cue, Johnny comes bursting from the trees. He barks when he sees you, then almost comes up short when he realizes the other dog is there.

You become acutely aware that you’re not all too sure how Johnny will respond to another dog - especially one so close to you given his protectiveness. You instantly move between them, calling his attention.

“There you are, Bonnie Johnny! Where have you been?! Naughty boy, you better not have eaten anything fluffy.” His ears go back, a little whine starting up. He ducks his head to let you grab at his muzzle, inspecting him for anything gross. “I do not feel like wrangling you to brush your teeth.”

Luckily, he seems clean. Whatever had him so excited, he must not have caught.

Movement behind you catches your attention, the other dog loping closer. Your eyes bounce between them, watching body language for any aggression or hostility. To your relief, Johnny seems almost excited by this new friend - the other one… well, he seems a bit more subdued, but lets Johnny lick at his chin and bump into his side.

“Okay, ready to head home, baby boy?” you ask, giving Johnny’s collar a gentle tug. “I have to start making dinner.”

He whines, turning those big blue eyes on you and positioning himself behind the other dog. You groan.

“Johnny, really… I don’t know if I can handle two of you. I don’t even think he likes me very much.”

As if to spite you, the other dog sits and leans in, licking at your hand. And damn it, it’s cute.

“Alright, hold on, let’s just see if…”

This time, the other dog lets you touch, feels around his neck for a collar that unsurprisingly isn’t there. You feel around his shoulders too, hoping for that tiny bump that means he has a microchip, but nope.

“If I have a nickel for every time I found a wolf-dog in the woods…” you sigh, turning back for home. “It would be two nickels but it’s weird that it happened twice.”

When you notice both pups stalling, you whistle sharply.

“Come. It’s getting cold.”

Johnny instantly bounds ahead with excitement while your new companion is slightly slower, staying just a bit behind and to the side of you so that you can see him from the corner of your eye.

Back at home, Johnny leads the way inside. The strange dog looks around curiously, sniffs at a few spots. It’s then that you remember Johnny marking the house his first couple days and notice that Mystery Dog is also unaltered.

“Hey.” Both dogs turn to you. You point at the new one sternly. “If you pee on anything in here - anything - I’m dying you pink. By god I’ll do it, there are dog safe hair dyes.”

You get a sneeze for that and he walks away with disinterest, but at least he keeps his leg down. You’ll take it.

Dinner is interesting, no fussing or fighting over food from either of them. When they’re done, you retire to the couch, Johnny happy to follow up until he sees that his new friend isn’t coming as well.

He starts yipping, bouncing, bowing, trying to get the new one to follow. You’re amused up until Johnny nips and the bigger dog growls, showing teeth. You plant yourself instantly between them.

“Hey.” You look the new dog in the eye, get into his space and back him away from Johnny. “No the hell you’re not.”

The new dog stares, eyes locked on yours, ears swiveling. You don’t back down, watching and looking waiting, still bodily between him and Johnny. Until finally his ears go back and he sneezes, laying down.

“Good.” You soften your voice, sigh. “Good boy.”

You offer your hand. Get a sniff and a resigned lick, then scratch at your new boy’s ears.

“You be nice, big boy. Everyone in this house is mine. I take care of everyone.”

His eyes do a weird thing then. You’re not sure how to describe it, combined with the way his head tilts. But you just chalk it up to Weird Dog Things and finally return to the couch, an oddly subdued Johnny clambering up with you.

“You can join us, honey,” you call to the other dog. “You’re welcome up here if you behave.”

He doesn’t take you up on it for awhile. You and Johnny settle in for your usual nightly shows. And then, about an hour later, movement draws your eye. The Mystery Dog, standing at the edge of the couch with his tail down, ears neutral.

Earlier drama forgotten, you smile at him.

“Hi there,” you chirp, “you want up? C’mon, bud. Up.”

He hops up with surprisingly gentleness, picking his way around your limbs and Johnny’s. He ends up crawling over your dog and settling half on top of him, and half on top of you, his chin settled between Johnny’s stupid perky ears. Johnny seems thrilled so you laugh a bit.

“What good boys,” you coo, giving them each a scratch and receiving a kiss in return. “Alright, this isn’t so bad.”

You fall asleep there, already trying to come up with name for your new pup. Maybe Phantom.

Main Story | Konig pt. 1

Masterlist

[prettyoatmeal]

Soft Sex with Simon <3

Warning!! nsfw, mdni, fem reader, dirty talk, one Y/N mention, NOT PROOF READ! A/N: Brain rot horny posting WOOF WOOF WOOF BARK BARK BARK BARK BARK Masterlist here!

***************

Thinking about soft sex with Simon!!!! <333 Where you're both desperate for each other. Where you need each other. 

Despite the stoicism he shows 99% of the time to those around him, he has a heart that swells with love whenever you're with him. That fills him with a yearning for your and only you.

For once, his lips are gentle against yours. Call it placebo, but they always feel especially soft when he's wrapped around your finger like this.

His movements become slow as if you have all the time in the world, an eternity to make each other feel good. He's slow to lay you down onto the bed, slow to spread your legs and place himself between them, slow to undress you both before his lips move downwards to meet with your clit.

But he's quick to make sure there’s a pillow under your head, he's quick to place one under your hips, he's quick to surround your sides with blankets if you feel too cold, and quick to start fingering you when he hears you getting restless.

It gets to a point where Simon's so infatuated with you, he immediately loses himself the moment he feels your warm, wet, gummy walls squeezing and sucking him in.

"Oh fuck,," He breathes, pelvis colliding with yours.

You're nose-to-nose, chest-to-chest, trapping you under him with strong arms on either side of you, and there's absolutely no space between you once he pulls your legs up to wrap around his hips. There couldn't be, no. He needs you as close to him as possible.

Your breaths mingle as he's working your insides, your nose scrunching and eyebrows furrowing with each deep thrust.

In... out. In... out.

You can feel each throb and pulse, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix each time he buries himself inside you. And Simon's eating up your every reaction. Every sigh, every gasp, every sweet moan of his name is boosting his ego. Because he's the one making you feel like this. He’s the one taking care of you.

"Shit- oh God, y'feel so fuckin' good. So tight. So damn tight," He always gets talkative like this, it’s as if he just can’t keep his mouth shut. "You make me feel so good, sweetheart. My girl.. my sweet girl."

It's so intimate, so romantic, it makes you so wet there's no need for any lube throughout. It makes fireworks go off in your stomach.

"Simon-" you hiccup as you look up at him through bleary eyes.

"Yeah, angel? What do you need?"

“More.. please, I need more.”

And he’s right at your service. His baby needs more? Of course they do. So he’s quick to shush you and your pleading. His hands quickly move down and grab your hips. He positions them higher, the new angle making him thrust right up against that bundle of nerves that he knows you love so much. A little faster than before, he’s soon in a stable rhythm and has your eyes rolling back, gasping for air and making all those perfect sounds.

“Yeah, does that feel good? You like when I’m deep in you like this, fucking you just how you need?” He asks, his voice starting to shake slightly. But you can’t respond. Not when your own vocal chords won’t let you, preoccupied by your cute whines and mewls, doing your best to not be too loud for courtesy of the neighbours. All noises resembling speech are nothing but mindless babbles.

“Shhh, I know. I know, baby,” His voice is so quiet, so sweet it makes you almost sick to your stomach, “just sit there and take it like the good girl you are. That’s all you have to do.”

It feels good. It feels so fucking good. 

The way he makes your pussy flutter, makes your stomach flip from hearing his humiliatingly high pitched moans, makes your clit ache with need, begging for some friction right about now because all you can think about is cumming around his thick cock. You need to cum so bad, and Simon’s able to pick up on it. He notices the way you squeeze around him relentlessly, the way you go a little quiet as you try to focus on your orgasm. In his arms, you’re nothing but a whining mess, falling apart from how good he was making you feel.

“Open your eyes f’me, love. Let me see how pretty you look,” You take a moment to process his words before your glossy eyes barely flutter open again, “that’s a good girl. Keep those beautiful eyes on me.”

You feel his hand gripping your hip snake between your legs and down to your wet heat. It was only then when you took notice of the lewd, sloppy sounds coming from the both of you, your combined wetness and sweat creating a loud slap every time his hips met with yours. 

The pad of his thumb gathers some of that slick before pressing against your swollen nub, in turn making you jolt under him. He methodically works your clit in rhythm with his thrusts and with how worked up you already are, you feel your nether regions burning. You glance down at his hand, working you so effortlessly. The way his cock disappears inside you, taking him so well. Suddenly you feel so close. So so so so so close. You’re right over that edge, you just need a little more.

“Y’gonna cum for me? Make a mess all over my cock?”

You nod, the tears welling in your eyes ready to fall. God, yes. And as you nodded, a grin formed across Simon’s face. His smile was so pretty it made a wave of shyness wash over you.

“F-Fuck, can feel how close you are. Squeezing me like a fucking vice,” He leaned down to pepper small kisses along your soft jawline as his fingers on your quickened.

“Simon, I-I’m g’nna cum,” You manage to choke out, feeling his hips stutter as your walls pulse around him.

“Let go, sweet thing. Make a mess for me, I’ve got you.”

You feel your hips buck helplessly under him, a cry of pleasure getting ripped straight from your throat as you cum on his cock, your cunt pulsing and gushing around him. Hot tears roll down your flushed cheeks as you bury your face into his neck, his freckled skin catching them. Your hearing goes a little fuzzy, but you can make out his long groans as he keeps pounding into you. You writhe in overstimulation below him before his hips stutter again, burying himself inside you with a harsh thrust as his potent seed shot inside you. 

You sniffle into his neck in the aftermath. You hear him mutter a few soothing words as his lips make contact with your skin again, but his words fall on deaf ears as you try and catch your breath.

“Come on, (Y/N). Let me know you’re with me.” He whispers to you, and you nod in response.

“Thank you, lovie. Good girl, shh. You’re alright. Did so well for me.” Those were the last words you could hear before falling asleep in his arms.

*************** DISCLAIMER Under no circumstances do I give permission to copy, repost, or manipulate my work in any way. I am not comfortable with this. If you wish to translate my work, message me privately. My inbox is always open.

[aouiaa]

Loser!Ellie Hcs

Imagining Loser! Ellie who makes fart noises with her mouth when you bend down to pick up something, and makes fun of you for “farting.”

“Ewww, that one was nasty!”

A scoff leaves your mouth as you stand up, looking back to send a death stare her way to which makes her walk over to you, giggling.

“It’s okay, everyone farts.” she says with a cheeky grin.

An eye roll from you further causes Ellie to full on laugh and wrap her arms around your waist, pressing kisses to your neck.

She would be so silly with it too. Finding different ways to comment on you “farting.”

“That’s some narly tooting there, babe.”

“Woof, another left the cannon!” she says, pinching her nose while actually fanning the air to shooing away the smell as if it was real.

“A bomb just dropped, take cover!”

Imagining Loser! Ellie who invites you over to her house when you first started dating to review her concerningly large comic book collection.

“How many do you have?!” you exclaim, looking over the many boxes filled with comics.

“I had to do some things to acquire such items that I rather not corrupt your mind with.” she says in a rather poor attempt of sounding suspicious and menacing.

“God, you’re such a loser! you laugh, and watch as Ellie immediately drops the act and turns into a big giant tomato.

A little shy “no” leaves her lips to which makes you smile and lean over to kiss her, “It’s okay, you’re my loser.”

Imagining Loser! Ellie who also has a smaller collection of space related books than the rather getting out-of-hand comic collection.

Imagining Loser! Ellie who has the deadliest grip over the last chicken while sending a death stare your way when you do that one trend on her to see if she’d grab her phone instead.

Imagining Loser! Ellie who’s laughing to the point there’s tears in her eyes when she suggested the both of you paint each other. And when revealed, hers was very detailed and while yours…’was insteresting.’ Ellie’s words…

Imagining Loser! Ellie who makes fun of people who dress “cringe”, but also wears this.

Imagining Loser! Ellie who write love songs for you in her little journal of hers and even plays them on her guitar. You’ve even caught her once.

Upon walking into your home, you hear muffled talking or singing. Presuming it’s Ellie, you walk into the room to see her with gutiar in hand. Immediately when she sees you she stops what she’s doing and look up, her face turning red.

“Oh—shit, you’re home early…” she says, laughing nervously, settling her guitar aside and greeting you with a hug and kiss as usual.

A little laugh leaves your lips as you reciprocate the greeting and ask, “What were you doing?”

She pulls away from the embrace and looks down upon hearing the question. Playing with her pinky and ring finger, she responds, “Oh, ya’ know—just…playing.”

“Just playing? But I heard you singing.”

An audible gulp is heard from the nervous girl as she looks up at you, “I was writing a song.” she finally admits.

A wave of surprise washed over you, “Oh—wow. Can…I hear it?”

“Uhh, maybe later..”

You chuckle and nod, “Alright then, my little musician. You can work on!” you quip.

A nervous smile presents itself on Ellie’s lips, “Shut up.”

Loser! Ellie who does let you listen to the song, but is stuttering and messing up the whole time!—Poor girl, you make her nervous :(—To which earns her a kiss on the cheek and a “You got this, baby. Just relax” To which she actually does! She Some might say it was the kiss that did it.

Imagining Loser! Ellie who has a special spot in her journal filled with doodles of you.

Imagining Loser! Ellie who has multiple unfinished paintings of you that with time will be finished, just has to find time in her super busy schedule—that consists of sleeping and bothering you—to finish them.

Imagining Loser! Ellie who sleeps with stuffed animals.

Imagining Loser! Ellie who HAS to absolutely listen to music when doing anything, literally doesn’t matter it could be showering, dishes, getting ready, etc. There’s music playing.

Imagining Loser! Ellie who’s a big ‘Savage Starlight’ nerd and actually at some point sent in one of her best fanart to the official insta page, but never got a response. :(

But the girl can’t take failure as an option and is still hopeful saying, “They’ll open my message…eventually.” with a sad little huff.

Imagining Loser! Ellie who’s screaming from the bathroom when she actually gets a response back!

You knock frantically on the door to startled by the screaming and when she does finally open the door you’re met with her phone being shoved into your face, “Look, Look, Look!”

A slightly irritated sigh leaves your lips as you look at Ellies phone—which has mysterious residue stains on it—and see the instagram post.

Once reading the caption praising Ellie for her work, you look up from the phone and at her, “I thought you were getting killed, Ellie! God…”

“Aweeee, you care about me?” she says, putting her hands on her chest.

“No, I came to make sure they finished the job.” you reply with a cheeky grin.

“Oh wow…well in that case, gimme my phone and get out!” she frowns.

You roll my eyes playfully and chuckle, giving back her phone, “Make sure to flush.” you say, closing the door.

“That was one time!” you hear a muffled shout.

Imagining Loser! Ellie whose phone is filled with multiple pictures of you. Some of you, sleeping, doing chores around the house, cooking—and some with you seeming to be yelling at her in the photo for not helping, and terrible pictures of you that you beg her to delete, but she protests saying they’re “beautiful” to her.

Imagining Loser! Ellie who steals your chapstick since she always loses her’s within a few days of having it.

“Ellie?” you call out, searching in your nightstand for your chapstick.

“Yeah, babe?” you hear her voice become more clearly as she walks into the bedroom.

“Have you seen my chapstick? My lips are terribly dry…” you huff, unable to find it in your clutter.

“Uhh, no.”

*Imagine her in the background, sneakily swiping your chapstick back and forth on her lips as you annoyedly rummage through your stuff for it.* LMAOOO

Imagining Loser! Ellie who does feel bad and buys you a ten pack of chapstick, stealing one of course for herself.

Imagining Loser! Ellie who buys those princess or even soda chapstick ones.

(Okay i’ll stop talking about chapsticks…😭)

Imagining Loser! Ellie who seems to never drink water, but instead drinks like Arizona, Dr. Pepper, or Canada-dry, etc.

Imagining Loser! Ellie who’s rather disgusting when eating. Having dried up residue on the side of her mouth from dinner which was hours ago only to lick it off.

“Mmm, that burger was good.”

“You’re disgusting.”

Imagining Loser! Ellie who sometimes, but not all the time, thinks about how lucky she is/was to get—or “pull” as she says to her friends—someone like you.

Loser! Ellie who loves you for loving her despite her quirks!

How you can help Palestine, Why you shouldn’t support tlou/ buy the remastered, Educate yourself, #FREEPALESTINE.

a/n; Who wants Dina or Abby hcs? 🤭

Perm taglist: @elliesprettygirl, @dyk3ang3l, @ellies2fingers, @r3starttt, @slut4mascss, @k1ssesworld

Ellie Only fics: @herelieskrisy, @mikellie , @slaysksmska, @mina-281, @teawithnosugar, @kitkatkittycat111

[reashot]

Tis' The Season.

Wolf Ruby: Woof! Woof! Woof! 🐺

Velvet: *Scared whimpering*

Ruby: Get down here you little slut! Get down so I can tear your limb from limb for smelling like that! ☠️

Velvet: Help someone. Please help me. Ruby has gone feral!

Ruby: Who are you calling feral you dumb bunny!? Why I ought ta.... Arf? 🐕

*picks up Ruby like the naughty puppy she is*

Jaune: Ruby! What's gotten into you?

Ruby: It's all her fault. She smells like a whore in heat!

Jaune: Ruby. Language!

Ruby: *whimpers* I-I'm sorry Jaune but my nose is sensitive and her whorish scent keeps triggering my hunting instinct.

Jaune: Okay that's it, Ruby you need to go right now.

*carry Ruby in his arms*

I'm sorry Velvet. I'll make sure it won't happen again.

Velvet: You better keep your hound on a leash!

Ruby: Great idea, cunt. Jaune, I would love to wear a softer collar while you put me on a leash. 🐶

Jaune: Ah, ha, ha... Nice joke, Ruby. So funny... We gotta get out of here.

Velvet: Wait, Jaune. Before you go do you want to meet up sometimes later. Maybe alone? 💕

Jaune: Oh, okay Velvet. Maybe after I give Ruby some snacks and her naps.

Ruby: *growl*

Faunus Mating Season Arc Begin.

[lev1hei1chou]

A New Addition

Dad!Gojo x reader Genre: Fluff Synopsis: Gojo and your child return from a walk with a puppy Masterlist

The sun casted a warm glow over the bustling streets of Tokyo as Gojo and his child ambled along, hand in hand. It was a perfect day for a walk, and the duo seemed to be enjoying every moment of it. Meanwhile, you sat at home, wondering where they had disappeared to. It had been quite some time, and your curiosity was piqued.

Fidgeting with the hem of your shirt, you glanced at the clock for what felt like the hundredth time. Where could they possibly be? Your mind concocted all sorts of scenarios, from them getting lost in a nearby park to stumbling upon a hidden portal to another dimension. Okay, maybe the latter was a bit far-fetched, but hey, with Gojo involved, you never knew.

Just as you were about to dial Gojo's number and demand an explanation for their prolonged absence, the front door creaked open. You whipped around, expecting to see the mischievous duo sauntering in with grins plastered on their faces. However, what you were met with instead was silence. Suspicious silence.

"Darling?" you called out, furrowing your brows in confusion.

No response.

Your heart began to race as you imagined all sorts of disastrous scenarios. Had they been kidnapped by curses? Had Gojo accidentally transported them to some far-off land? Taking a deep breath, you pushed aside your frantic thoughts and stepped into the hallway.

"Satoru, this isn't funny!" you exclaimed, the worry evident in your voice.

Suddenly, you heard a faint sound, almost like... a woof?

Your eyes widened in disbelief as Gojo and your child rounded the corner, their faces adorned with sheepish grins. But what caught your attention the most was the small, wriggling bundle nestled in your child's arms—a fluffy, adorable puppy.

"What is this?" you asked, torn between amusement and exasperation.

Your husband scratched the back of his head, a guilty expression crossing his features. "Surprise?"

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. "Baby, you can't just bring home a puppy without consulting me first!"

"But look at its little face!" your child pleaded, holding the puppy up for emphasis.

You couldn't deny that the puppy was indeed adorable, with its big, soulful eyes and wagging tail. However, you were well aware of the responsibility that came with owning a pet, and you weren't sure if you were ready to take that plunge just yet.

"Please, Mommy," your child said, giving you the best puppy-dog eyes they could muster.

You felt your resolve waver as you gazed into those pleading eyes, but you knew you had to stand your ground. "I don't know, sweetie. Taking care of a puppy is a big responsibility."

"We promise we'll take care of it!" Gojo chimed in, his own puppy-dog eyes in full effect.

You rolled your eyes, knowing full well that Gojo's definition of "taking care" of something usually involved minimal effort on his part. But despite your reservations, you couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt at the thought of denying your child—and Satoru—a furry companion.

With a defeated sigh, you relented. "Fine. But you two are responsible for feeding it, walking it, and cleaning up after it. Understand?"

The room erupted into cheers as Gojo and your child exchanged triumphant glances. The puppy, sensing the excitement, let out an enthusiastic bark, its tail wagging furiously.

You couldn't help but smile at the scene unfolding before you. Maybe adding a new member to the family wouldn't be so bad after all.

As the days passed, you found yourself growing increasingly fond of the newest addition to your family. The puppy, named Mochi by your child, brought a sense of joy and excitement into your home. From playful romps in the backyard to cozy cuddles on the couch, Mochi quickly wormed his way into your heart.

And as for Gojo and your child? Well, they proved to be surprisingly adept at caring for their furry friend. Sure, there were the occasional mishaps—like the time Mochi managed to chew through an entire roll of toilet paper—but overall, they took their responsibilities seriously.

Watching the three of them together, you couldn't help but feel grateful for the unexpected surprise that had brought so much happiness into your life. Who knew that a simple walk around the block could lead to such a delightful addition to your family?

As Mochi curled up at your feet, content and sleepy after a long day of play, you couldn't imagine your life without him. And as you glanced over at Gojo and your child, who were currently engaged in a spirited game of fetch, you knew that this impromptu decision had been the best one yet.

[bunnyinvanilla]

when sugar daddy!john price finds out about the little furry friend you’ve taken it while he’s been on deployment…

you’ve been looking forward to your daily — nightly — call from john all day, now that hes been back on deployment. And you’re not alone, your new fluffy friend can practically feel the excitement and happiness swirling in the air, and is now wagging his tail contently, nudging his humid nose against your lap.

“hello?” your sweet voice rings like a mellifluous, honeyed waterfall, the first sugary and pleasant sound that john has heard in days. “sir?”

“doll,” his own voice is a deep, warm and low note, rough and husky, it makes you blush and squirm even from a large distance. “hi princess”

“hi, daddy!” it’s exactly when he hears the pure joy in your voice that he’s reminded of why he’s still fighting to protect that country — he’s been a soldier his entire life, a roughened and hardened captain, fearsome and grouchy, who loves working in the military, but ever since meeting you, hes found a reason for wanting to come back, someone to come back to.

“how are you sir?” you crouch and rub your free hand on top of Oreo’s soft, almost plush fur, scratching behind his ear just like you’ve learned he likes so much. “I miss you so much daddy,”

“daddy’s fine, love, just headed back to my private quarters, how’s my precious girl doing?”

you hear the faint sound of fabric rustling on the background, the metallic jingle of a belt being unbuckled is familiar to your ears, and makes you flush, warm and red skin pressed against the phone. “im alright, i went to the bookstore with my friend this morning, and finally tried the new starbucks collection,”

he coos at you, still listening attentively, and you wonder if he’s done getting changed, his uniform tidily folded on his mattress. “that’s good, angel, any problem with the bar?”

you feel Oreo stand up on his paws and snuggle up against your lap, the scent of his soap filling your nostrils an making you smile, still petting his head and back “no, I’ve met some local regulars and they were wondering when you’d open again, are the boys okay? do they miss me?”

his deep, warm chuckle makes you blush more, you just love how velvety his voice sounds “yeah doll, keep asking me how my missus’s doing-“

“woof!”

you widen your eyes and remain still, looking down at Oreo who’s basically demanding more pats — you gesture to him to remain quiet, bringing a single finger to your lips.

but john, able to recognize the tiniest shift in ambience and air, practically made to catch any movement and sound, gruffs in your ear

“…who’s that?”

you freeze, pressing your lips together, still petting Oreo that now titled his head, as if understanding where the conversation will inevitably head to…

“no one, ‘s just my friend, daddy” you mentally pray that you’re sounding convincing, knowing well you can’t — and don’t want to — lie.

a few seconds of silence pass between you and price, before you hear the gruff rumble of his voice, somehow tinted with a suspicious tone and becoming even lower. “…your friend barks?”

“no, he’s uhm…he’s just, happy” you try to bite down a worried smile, nibbling on your lip, but Oreo doesn’t show the tiniest concern over your worry, simply wagging his tail and rubbing himself against you — maybe he doesn’t realize that his daddy is on the other side on the phone, or maybe he does and is eager to let his presence be known.

“doll.” the warning in his rough, low tone would’ve made you shiver in a pleasant way any other moment, but now, it only makes you lift your shoulders against your light neck, faking obliviousness — you understand now why his soldiers always straighten their backs in fear when he speaks with that tone.

“mmmhh, yes, daddy?”

“woof!”

“shh, Oreo!” you whisper to the border collie, but it sounds like a yell to john, who’s now sitting down, a large hand scratching his beard and ruffling his hair tiredly, a heavy sigh stuck on his throat.

he clenches his jaw, the muscles shifting his facial hair before his mumbles something quietly, hand now pressed against his forehead.

you did it, you’ve taken a stray home, to his home, and he’s coming back tomorrow.

part 2 coming soon🍓

[eddiegettingshot]

Could i request another sneak peak of eddies big meat .. 🥺🙏… in this trying time …

aw hi best friend she lives in my scraps doc now to be ripped apart for future use because i stopped wanting to look at her ... so you can have the whole dream sex scene where spit is acceptable lube and eddie still has his mustache <3 :)

1.7k of nsfw under the cut lmao

He knows it’s Eddie marrow-deep, the way anyone knows anything in a dream.

Buck opens his eyes to light everywhere, so radiant the entire bedroom shimmers, a pale beam of it crossing Eddie’s long golden fingers where they’re clasped around Buck’s forearms to keep him in place. Eddie’s draped along his back, unapologetic about letting Buck, prone and practically immobilized, bear his full weight. Buck can’t see him, and he doesn’t say a word, just rubs his mouth into the spot beneath Buck’s ear and digs his thumbs into the insides of Buck’s wrists, but Buck is certain Eddie’s smiling. His mustache, which he’d long-since shaved in real life, is bristly, but nice. Really nice. Softer than Buck had thought it would be.

Then there’s the matter of Eddie’s cock, which he rocks slowly into the cleft of Buck’s ass. Buck can’t see that either, but it feels nice, too, stiff and hot and already soaked at the head. Buck tries to arch into him, give him something else, make it better; Eddie just laughs and keeps working him into the mattress, a lazy pantomime of a real fuck.

Dissatisfied, Buck struggles beneath him. Eddie bites him at the nape like an animal, hard enough to sting, and flattens his chest between Buck’s shoulder blades to settle him. He flexes his grip on Buck’s arms. Trapped like this, Buck can feel all of him: his ribs expand, and his belly presses into Buck’s spine as he sighs. 

The restlessness—whatever it is, that under-the-skin itch to stay in motion—drains away, defeated by Eddie’s wordless command. Buck sighs, too, turning his cheek into the pillow. 

The thing is, he knows it’s Eddie because it couldn’t be anyone else. 

“Good. That’s good,” Eddie says, low, dragging kisses across Buck’s jaw and cheek.

Buck’s not even doing anything. Eddie won’t let him, so he doesn’t try—even as mouthwatering want seizes his gut and pours blistering heat through his pelvis. He can’t stop shifting his erection against the sheets. The praise still doesn’t feel entirely unearned.

“It’d be better,” Buck says, “if you would actually put it in.”

“We ain’t got time for that,” Eddie says. Then (and he’s definitely smiling—the shape of it curls around his words): “Morning, Buck.”

It’s the familiar, beloved rasp of Eddie’s voice, that mundanity paired with getting almost-fucked, that makes Buck groan with impatience and spread his thighs. A blunted ache throbs behind Buck’s sternum. It’s dirty to let himself be overpowered this way, he thinks, except for that it feels closer to being held than pinned. With Eddie—his warm skin, his steady breath—it doesn’t matter. It’s all the same.

“Come on, Eddie,” he says. “Quit humping me.” 

“That’s usually my line.”

“Woof,” Buck huffs, and they both laugh—Eddie’s, shaky and breathless, his cock nudging right where Buck needs him; Buck’s, a little awed over this quotidian exchange alone. 

Buck noses to the side and opens his mouth against the back of Eddie’s hand, licking at the thin salty skin. He imagines there’s a vein there. He imagines he can feel the blood inside of it pulsing on his tongue—onto his tongue—and follows it to Eddie’s knuckles. Scraping his teeth over them, he tries again: “We could make time.”

“You might be off today, but I’m gonna be late for my shift,” Eddie says. He’s wrong. He’s never late. Buck hitches his ass up, insistently seeking contact.

Eddie groans, long-suffering, dropping his over-warm face into Buck’s shoulder.

“You won’t. And if you are, I—I’ll tell Cap it was my fault,” Buck coaxes. 

He doesn’t have to, since Eddie’s already letting go of him, spitting into his palm, drawing away just enough to reach down, wet his dick, and guide it firmly into place. But it’s nice to beg so freely, even nicer to chase down that singular moment where Eddie gives in. To keep pushing, just because he can—because Eddie allows it, every time.

“Please don’t,” Eddie snorts. He rubs up against Buck’s hole, purposeful rather than teasing now, and Buck shivers, clenching under the contact. “I’m pretty sure that breaks the station law against oversharing, and I don’t have enough cash left for the Buck’s Big Mouth jar.”

Buck’s shameless snickering dissolves into a wavering moan as Eddie eases forward, opening him on just the tip first. Even that feels like a lot, feels fucking good, the first couple inches igniting nerves that make the backs of his thighs tingle.

“Fuck,” he says. Whimpers, really, kind of airy and tremulous.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“This what you wanted?” Eddie’s pressed all the way into him, flush with Buck’s ass. He grabs Buck around the hip to maneuver the angle, tilting him perfectly into place as if by instinct. The first firm thrust wrenches all the air from Buck’s lungs.

“Eddie,” is all he manages, naturally.

The slide is effortless, too easy with spit alone, but Eddie’s cock fills him up so well that all Buck can think is that if this is real, if this is happening, then maybe it was just meant to be right here, taking up all this space inside him, and that Eddie was meant to be here, too, the whole of his body an anchor. His hips begin to snap, hard and focused enough to get Buck panting. 

“W—Wait,” Buck gasps. “Go slow.”

Eddie obliges, of course. He kisses the nape of Buck’s neck, the sore spot he’d used to bully Buck into submission before. It tickles. 

“Slower,” he begs—for the first time in his life, probably. It’s a sudden, inconvenient desire, considering they really don’t have much time. 

Incredulous but uneven, Eddie asks, “Seriously?” 

Buck grins. “Yeah,” he says.

Eddie’s got a grounding hand clamped tight and high on Buck’s waist, fingertips hooking beneath his ribs. Buck reaches around, takes him by the wrist, and guides that hand up to his throat, choking off his own desperate moaning mostly because he knows Eddie finds it unbearably hot. 

“Buck,” Eddie maybe mumbles, although it’s hard to decipher through the hazy head rush. He gives Buck a loving squeeze, but that’s not enough; after squeezing his wrist in return, Buck tugs him up until he can wrap his lips around Eddie’s forefingers and suck. 

He’d asked for slow, so Eddie’s barely even fucking him anymore. His hips remain crushed to Buck’s ass; he’s rocking forward in small, tight motions like there’s any way to get deeper. There isn’t, there can’t be. Stretched raw, speared apart, Buck already feels disassembled. 

Eddie shifts, and it’s—“There, right there,” Buck groans, garbled with his mouth full, but Eddie understands. 

He must take it as, like, permission, or something—God, that’s a nice idea—because he presses down on the ridge of Buck’s bottom teeth and pushes his nose against Buck’s ear and gives it to him. No more of that indolent grinding; he slams in, smooth and ceaseless, unforgiving on Buck’s prostate.

“I love you,” Eddie says, hoarse with sudden emotion. “You know that?” 

Fuck, yes—with Eddie’s broad, calloused palm holding his jaw fast, and Eddie’s fingers down his throat, and Eddie’s sweaty cheek brushing his, and Eddie’s big cock ripping him wide, he does. He feels it everywhere. He cries out, muffled, guttural, and deliriously pleased as the heat builds. 

“Answer me,” Eddie murmurs. He slips his fingers out of Buck’s mouth. A strand of drool keeps them connected to Buck’s lower lip. One particularly rude thrust punches a strangled noise out of him. 

“Fuck, Eddie, I—I know.”

“What do you know?”

“You love me,” Buck says. “I know you love me.”

“That’s right,” Eddie says, pressing a sloppy, proprietary kiss under Buck’s ear. “I love you, Buck.”

“I want—”

“You ready to come?”

“Yeah,” Buck moans, and then, “No, I—” 

Somehow, with Eddie surrounding him, it hadn’t occurred to Buck how badly he needed to breathe his air and touch him, too—to kiss his mouth, taste the sweat on his mustache. To thumb at his furrowed brow. To watch him come and bask in the blazing heat of his satisfaction. 

Eddie would like it—filling Buck up, flooding him inside. He does like it. Doesn’t he? Likes laying his claim, more than anything. 

That’s what it really is, after all, when he gives Buck his cock, and his come, and his bite, and his hand around Buck’s throat, and every spare, hard-won minute he’s got. I love you really means that Buck’s his to keep, and Eddie even says that in his sleep sometimes, mumbled into Buck’s hair and occasionally broken by his embarrassing snoring. 

He must like that Buck belongs to him. He has to. More than anything, Buck needs to look Eddie in the eye when he says everything he wants to say, so he can be absolutely certain of this. He was certain, a moment ago, but Eddie’s grasp on him is weakening, or maybe Buck’s slipping out of his hold. 

Buck tries to tell him, “I want to see you.”

Ideally, Eddie will grin when Buck turns in the cage of his arms and begs: Don’t go anywhere. I love you, too. Let’s just do this forever. I can take it. He’ll make that sound he makes, that quietly amused “Hm,” that has a million meanings, all of which Buck has memorized. He’ll dutifully argue that they’d probably miss their real life eventually—plus they’ve got a mortgage to pay and Buck would get bored without the thrill of saving lives. Eddie’s good at choosing the right moment to be a little bit terrible, so he’ll grab Buck by the thighs to stifle any retort, haul him into position to pound him just right, and say something irresistibly dirty, like, Give it to me, sweetheart, show me how you come. 

And Buck would. He’s already close; it’s knifing through his belly, the only palpable feeling left—

Forget an orgasm; he doesn’t even get to roll over before the whole scene washes away, taking Eddie with it.

Panting, Buck blinks the afterimage of Eddie’s hands out of his head, but he can’t banish the thought that he wouldn’t let Eddie try to convince him of anything. He’d pull him down, kiss him hard, lick his canine teeth, and plead again, and again, and again, until Eddie agreed to use his body as a dwelling; to live inside him, and nowhere else.

[alessiasfreckles]

Puppy Love

You and Leah get a puppy!

warnings: none!

A/N: based off of @onasfreckles request! wanted to write something about Leah so here it is, short and sweet x

------

“Oh my god, baby, he’s perfect!” Leah gushed.

“Never thought I’d hear you say that about a man,” you teased, but you had to agree. 

“He’s not a man, he’s just a little baby!” she said, picking him up and turning to look at you. You melted at the sight of your girlfriend holding the Golden Retriever puppy. “Look at his eyes! Baby, please can we get him? Please?”

“Why else do you think we’re here?” she smiled, and she let out a gasp.

“You said we were just looking!” 

“I lied. Come on, you don’t really think I would make you look at all these adorable puppies and then just leave, did you?” you said with a laugh, and she turned back to look at the puppy with adoration in her eyes. 

“You’re coming home with us, yes you are, we’re your new mummies,” she said in a baby voice, and you couldn’t help but smile.

You’d known Leah wanted a dog for a while, but she didn’t want to get one by herself because she didn’t think it would be fair to the dog if she had to leave for days at a time for camp or away games. As you weren’t a footballer, however, you would be home when she was at camp, and your family lived close by enough to look after a dog if you travelled with her. So you figured now was the perfect time. 

“Is he really ours?” Leah asked you again, looking up at you. 

“Really,” you said, kneeling down next to where she was sat on the floor. 

Tears were brimming in her eyes when she kissed you. “Thank you.”

“You big softie,” you teased, and she nodded, giggling. 

“Oh my god, what are we going to name him?” she asked. 

“Well, we have the whole drive home to figure it out. Unless you have any ideas already?”

“Hmm…” she trailed off, looking at him thoughtfully. “Peanut. I think he looks like a Peanut.”

The puppy cocked his head when she said the name, and jumped up the second time she said it.

“Peanut it is, then,” you said with a laugh, and Peanut let out a small woof. 

When you got home, Leah carried Peanut in through the front door, carefully setting him down. 

“Okay Peanut, this is your new home!” she said gently, then turned to you with wide eyes. “Wait, babe, we don’t have anything for him! We don’t have a bed, or a bowl, or puppy pads, or -”

“Woah, relax,” you told her, and opened the door to the storage closet under the stairs, the one she refused to go in because she claimed it was full of spiders. Over the past few weeks you’d gotten all the essentials for a puppy and had hidden them, knowing they’d be safe from her there. “I have everything we need right here.”

Once again, tears welled up in your girlfriend’s eyes. This time they spilled over, and she quickly tried to wipe them away.

“You okay?” you asked gently, getting the feeling that these were good tears rather than bad ones.

“I’m just, just, so happy!” she said through sniffles. “I love you so much, thank you.”

“I love you,” you said, hugging her tightly, when the two of you felt a cold damp nose nudging at your calves. 

You broke apart, laughing, to see Peanut looking up at you with his big brown eyes. He cocked his head, then licked Leah’s ankle. 

“I think he might be hungry,” she said between giggles. 

After you got him sorted with food and water, and had put out some puppy pads and his new bed, you let him explore the house. The two of you gushed over pretty much everything the puppy did, but your favourite thing was when she trotted over to Leah, who was sat cross legged on the floor, and flopped in her lap, tired from all the excitement.

She stroked his head gently, watching his eyes droop, looking like he was trying not to fall asleep. The way she looked at him, with so much tenderness and adoration, made your heart feel so full of love that it could burst.

“I can’t wait to have a baby with you,” you told her, and she looked up at you.

“Yeah?” she asked, smiling.

“Yeah,” you nodded. You’d never felt more sure of anything in your life. You leant over to kiss her, careful not to wake Peanut, who had given in to his sleepiness. 

“Want to tell the girls about him?” you asked a few minutes later, and she nodded eagerly.

“I have a great idea for how we can tell them,” she said with a grin. She got out her phone and started filming, holding it so that Peanut couldn’t be seen. “Hey guys, y/n and I have some big news. We’ve decided it’s time for us to take the next step in our relationship, and start expanding our family! So, without further ado, there’s someone we’d like to introduce you all to,” she panned the camera down to Peanut, who was still sleeping peacefully in her lap. “Everyone, meet the newest member of our family: Peanut!”

She stopped recording and quickly sent the video into the group chats your friends were in. The replies started flooding in immediately, ranging from messages in full caps from people saying they thought you were going to say that you were pregnant, to people offering to puppy-sit whenever you need it. 

“I don’t think Peanut is going to have to worry about being loved, do you?” you said with a smile.

“He has no idea how many people already love him,” Leah whispered softly. “You have so many aunties who can’t wait to meet you!”

----

Later that evening, you were sat on the sofa together, Peanut fast asleep in his new bed. You watched his small body rise and fall with his breathing, and grinned when his little legs kicked out in his sleep.

“What do you think he’s dreaming about?” you said softly to Leah.

“Running around in a big field, full of flowers,” she said dreamily, and you nodded, pressing a kiss to the side of her head with a smile.

[babyleostuff]

BOBPUL ENCOUNTERS A SNOWMAN | KIM MINGYU

“Look at the two of you,” you giggled, as Mingyu picked up your fluff ball dressed in a black puffer jacket, matching with her dad. “You’re adorable,” you cooed, scratching Bobpul behind her ears, as she wiggled impatiently in Mingyu's grip, earning a laugh from your boyfriend. 

“Me or Bobpul?” He questioned, tucking your hair behind your ear, as you leaned closer to the dog. “Both of you. My babies are the cutest,” you scrunched your nose at Bobpul, who looked like she was having the time of her life. Her tail was wagging against Mingyu's arm and you couldn't wait until you let her run in the snow where she would go crazy with happiness. 

“I have a feeling she likes you more than me,” he said, nuzzling his nose into her white fur, making Bobpul squirm even more. “You little traitor,” he whispered, before setting her on the ground, and grabbing her leash from the shelf. 

Honestly, it was fucking unfair how handsome your boyfriend looked, even with his face mostly covered by his black bucket hat. As much as you loved him dressed up in suits and all of those amazing stage outfits, this version of him had to be your favorite - it wasn’t idol Mingyu who was standing in front of you, but your Gyu, and it made him so much more perfect. 

“Stop staring at me,” Mingyu mumbled shyly, fixing Bobpul’s collar. 

“I wasn’t looking at you, I was looking at my little princess,” you smiled at your dog, who looked like she didn’t have any other thought than snow snow snow in her head. Mingyu chuckled, knowing you were lying - after all this time together, you were like an open book to him. “Sure, baby.” 

Something about this scene was so oddly domestic - you getting ready to go on a walk with your dog, Mingyu and Bobpul wearing matching jackets, you bundled up in one of your boyfriend’s hoodies and his coat that was way too big for you - it all felt like one of Mingyu’s hugs in the morning when neither of you wanted to leave the bed. 

“You guys are like my little Christmas miracle, you know?” You smiled, pulling a beanie over your boyfriend’s head. 

“Oh, baby,” he pouted, looking at you from where he was kneeling by Bobpul. It was moments like these that reminded you why you endured all the hardships of dating an idol - nothing could beat the tenderness with which Mingyu looked at you.

“I love you. So much,” he said and stood up, pulling you into his arms - into your safe place that felt like a blanket and a cup of tea on a cold winter morning, into the one place you could stay forever in. 

“Love you too, Gyu,” you mumbled, placing a kiss on his jaw, as he pressed his lips against your forehead. 

Immersed in your own bubble of love, you didn't notice how Bobpul impatiently paced back and forth until she finally decided to make her presence known, letting out a loud woof, woof. 

“Yeah, you’re right baby. Let’s go,” you laughed at her, grabbing Mingyu’s hand in yours, just as he managed to sneak in one last kiss on your lips with a loud muah. You snickered, gently smacking him in the ribs with your intertwined hands. “Sorry. Couldn’t help myself.” 

…

The second you stepped outside, Mingyu pulled out his camera taking a few pictures of you and Bobpul. Of course he did - he was a family man through and through, and he loved taking photos of his family, including you. It always made you blush whenever you visited his mom and dad, and some of your framed photos stood in the living as if you were a part of the Kim family. 

“Put that thing away, and let’s make a snowman,” you clapped your mittenclad hands, smiling at Mingyu.  

You spent the next few hours building snowman, with occasional breaks for snowball fights and rolling in the snow (Mingyu fell while carrying you and you landed on the ground together), along with Bobpul, who was running happily around you, barking and snorting as the snow got to her to the nose.

“Please, Gyu. Don’t drop it,” you shot your boyfriend a worried look, as he picked up the last part of your snowman - it’s head, because knowing Mingyu, nothing was safe in his hands - especially not a big ball of snow. 

Fortunately, he managed to put everything together, and all parts of the snowman were safely in their places. “Too bad we don't have any carrots,” you sighed, looking at what looked more like three snowballs lying on top of each other than a snowman. "It's good that you have a boyfriend like me, then," he laughed and took out a carrot from his pocket, along with some small stones that you could use to make mouths and eyes.

“Oh my God, I have the best boyfriend ever,” you gasped dramatically, cradling his face in your hands, squishing his cheeks together. “The most thoughtful, strong, smart, handsome, dashing, adorable, funny-,” 

“Okay, okay, I get it. I’m amazing,” Mingyu rolled his eyes, but the smile on his face told you he wasn’t annoyed in the slightest.

“Mhm, you are,” you whispered, pulling his head down, and pecking his lips. “Ugh, put on a lip balm or something. Your lips are chapped like they haven’t seen vaseline in a year.” 

“You little,” Mingyu bent down and collected snow in his hands, ready to throw it all at you, as if you weren’t already covered by it from head to toe.   

Luckily, your little girl came to your aid, without even realizing it. "Bobpul? What happened, why are you barking like that?" Mingyu, surprised, turned to the dog and let out all the snow he was holding in his hands. The momentary worry that something had happened to your dog quickly turned to amusement as you burst out laughing when you saw Bobpul standing in front of your snowman and barking at him like crazy.

Mingyu looked like he was about to cry with laughter, and it made everything so much funnier. “Baby, it’s just a snowman,” you mused, picking up your pup and petting her to calm her down. “Nothing to bark at, hm. You scared me for a second there,” you murmured, bumping your nose with hers. 

Focusing on Bobpul, you didn't notice when Mingyu pulled out his camera again, only a quiet click brought your attention back to him. "I had to, you look so cute together," he smiled, his cheeks flushed pink. “My girls,” he said, putting one of his hands on Bobpul’s head and cradling your face with the other. 

You wondered if the next time you visited his parents you’d find this photo standing on a shelf in the living room.

because I couldn't find out if bobpul is a boy or a girl, I refer to her/him as a girl

taglist (if you want to be added, check my masterlist): @weird-bookworm @sea-moon-star @hanniehaee @wonwooz1 @byprettymar @edgaralienpoe @staranghae @eightlightstar @itza-meee @immabecreepin @hyneyedfiz @honestlydopetree @dkswife @marisblogg @whatsgyud @aaniag @jeonghansshitester @daegutowns @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @embrace-themagic @soul-is-a-strange-kid @ohmyhuenings @nidda13 @hrts4hanniehae @k-drama-adict @f4iryjjosh @isabellah29 @hafsah-ali @mrswonwooo @lllucere @athanasiasakura @onlyyjeonghan @chillseo @bangantokchy @hrts4hanniehae @haecien @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @hannahhbahng

[charliemwrites]

Woof, grrr, woof

No content warnings

Your trip to the vet turns up nothing. No microchips, and none of the staff recognize the wolf-dog. They’re the only vet in town too, and he looks too pristine to have come from another…

“You’re a weird little guy, huh?” you muse on the car ride to the pet store.

The vet office was kind enough to make a file for him, standing name “Buddy”. If you get to keep him, you’re definitely changing it. They also gave you a spare leash so that you wouldn’t have to leave him in the car while you shop.

It’s a pitifully flimsy thing, but the dog seems leashed trained and does tug. Could probably let him off it and he’d stay glued to your side.

The shopping is even weirder. He doesn’t seem very distracted by treats or food, only snaps at other dogs when they get into his personal space. Otherwise, he just stays right next to you, tongue occasionally lapping at your hanging fingers.

“Beautiful dog,” a man says to you. An older guy, rugged, looking at toys.

You shift. “Thank you.”

“Should really be feeding a beast like that a raw diet.”

“Raw diet?”

“What they get in the wild. All that processed shite ain’t good for ‘em.”

You thank him for the advice over the dog’s grumbling. A quick internet search on your phone reveals it’s not a bad idea, actually. Not too expensive either.

“Raw it is,” you muse.

He tilts his head, make a low “woof”. You scratch absently at his ears as you continue shopping. Let him pick toys - his favorite a squeaky grenade of all things that he refuses to put down. You get a big matching set of food and water bowls, a cushy dog bed, a parasite repellent. Even some dog pads in case he’s not house trained.

You stall in the leash aisle, a bit overwhelmed by the choices of leashes and collars and harnesses.

“How do you feel about pink…?”

Snort.

“Yeah didn’t think so. I didn’t like the rhinestones anyway. You’d probably end up eating one and shitting glitter.”

A long whine.

“Oh, sorry, is that embarrassing? Poor love.”

The gentlest scrape of big teeth at your knuckles. You chuckle and tap two fingers on his sandpaper tongue. His head jerks back, tongue flicking in offense.

“S’what you get, dummy.”

Shaking your head, turn back to the selection. The pup huffs, shakes his head, and noses at something lower. It’s a deep green - army, you think the shade is called - collar with a silver buckle instead of a snap clip.

“Not bad,” you muse. “Matches the whole woodsy vibe we’ve got going.”

You find the matching leash and harness set, dropping it in your cart. You receive several more compliments on your big gorgeous dog, though he refuses to let anyone pet him. You awkwardly make excuses that he’s a recent rescue and try to avoid further conversation.

The last stop is at the kiosk for a tag. You can’t just let him go without one, but you despise officially naming him “Buddy.”

You end up just putting your name, number, and address on there. A matte black heart engraved with silver.

“What do you think?” you ask, offering it for a sniff.

The dog doesn’t even pretend to be interested, just takes the opportunity to drag his tongue over your wrist again. You huff and wipe off on your pants.

“Gonna have to take another bath at this rate.”

You ignore his grumble - it’s uncanny at this point, how quick he is to respond - and guide him out to the car. He hops into the passenger seat, flops over into your lap first chance he gets. You have to nudge his snout away from your crotch again, but he seems satisfied with a hand smoothing over his head.

Home is warm when you arrive. You set up your new dog’s things, buckle him into his new collar, tag and all.

“There,” you coo, dropping smooches all over his head. “Look at how handsome you are, sweet boy! Can I have a kiss?”

You yelp as he barrels you over onto your back, well over 100 pounds of wolf-dog stretching over you. You turn your face away as he licks at your mouth, trying to get inside. You remember reading somewhere that that’s a wolf thing; just another tick in the “hybrid” box.

“Gross, gross! Nooooo,” you laugh, covering his snout. You squeal as his tongue flickers between two fingers. “Nasty boy! You’re so rude!!”

He finally lets you up with much coaxing, looking far too pleased with himself.

You make yourself dinner, providing your dog with scraps of chicken and unseasoned veggies based on your online reading. He seems happy with the offering, eats it all up with gusto.

As the evening comes, you stretch out on the couch. Finally feel brave enough to put on a scary movie now that you’ve got a big-ass deterrent.

Your dog even climbs up to cuddle, head on your chest while you hug him through scary parts. The really interesting part comes at the end, during the climax.

“Heeeeeere’s Johnny!”

Your new companion perks up, eyes on the screen.

“Oh? Is… is that your name? Is your name Johnny?”

His head snaps around to you, ears straight up and eyes bright.

“Johnny…” you croon, trying it out.

He makes a little “boof” noise and wriggles closer.

“Johnny baby,” you continue, grinning. “Johnny boy. John John the bon bon.”

It’s utter nonsense, but it makes his tail thump against the cushions, leaving slobbery kisses of excitement all over your neck and jaw.

“Alright alright!” you laugh, dropping a kiss on the top of his nose. “Johnny it is. Thank fuck I don’t have to come up with a name. Was thinking of calling you Philip or Simon or something.”

You yelp as he starts to make gagging sounds, nearly kicking him off the couch before it seems to subside.

“Good lord, bud,” you breathe as he grumbles and settles his head on your thigh, puffing out a big breath through his nose. “You’re gonna be a handful.”

Previous | Next

Masterlist

[artdcnaldson]

ok so like jumping back in time a bit, before they start fucking. but a little while ago we were talking about mean art pinching pats sisters nose closed while fucking her face, and you'd written something in the tags about her watching videos online to learn to give head. WOOF!!! got me thinking, thinking thoughts, brewing something up. i think art would be asking her how shes gotten so much better suddenly, while fucking her face of course. has she been slutting herself out or something? TIHI possessive art is so hot and sexy!!!!!

he nearly cums right there when she tells him shes been practicing for him, with the pink sparkly dildo he knows she has. the mere thought of her alone in her room sucking on a big piece of rubber for his sake? to make this feel better for him? oh shes such a slut for him, the sheer devotion makes his heart swell just a little bit, before hes groaning deeply and pushing her back down further. she tells him she's watched videos to learn what guys like, for inspiration. and it sparks something in him, an idea...

it started innocently enough considering the circumstances, a link sent to her one night when he was away for a match in a different city. she didnt even really consider reading the link before she had pressed on it. porn. he had sent her porn. surely a mistake? surely this was meant for patrick or something? weird as that was, it would make more sense than him sending it to her. she texts him back like, "upsie think you meant to send that to someone else!!, no worries tho <3". she doesnt want him to be embarrassed for mixing up conatcts!! he just replies, "no. for inspiration." shes confused for a minute before it clicks, he wants to do this with her, whatever the video is, its something they'll be doing together. which means he's thinking about her while hes gone :)

slowly it progresses from relatively tame, a girl with fingers stuffed so far down her throat shes gagging around them, girls bent over laps getting spanked, hands tied to headboards... further out there than they had been before, but still not anything too extreme. but slowly he sends her things that are always just a little more fucked up than the last. he for sure sends her stepcest porn... i will never forget the fauxcest moment, it was very special to me. people fucking in bathrooms of parties or restaurants. meanwhile shes thinking, "he wants to take me to a restaurant and have dinner with me". she just wants so badly to be wanted, and this feels like he is thinking about her all the time.

i do think this would also be before he fucks her anal and before the racket. maybe this is kind of how he introduces the ideas to her? manipulating her, normalizing it for her before he suggests it to her.

hhhmmm yummy...

-🐞

Hngngnnggg

Exactly like. You’re all pretty, laid out between his legs, sucking his cock to “celebrate” after he performed well in a tournament. His hand is in your hair but he’s not even having to really guide you at all, you’re not even gagging on him as much as you used to.

He groans as you take him down to the hilt, when he reaches down and feels the bulge of his cock in your throat. You blink, all half-lidded and hazy, small puffs of air expelling from your nose as you breathe. He feels your tongue slip from between your lips, feels you licking at his balls, and he has to pull you off of him by your hair so he doesn't cum immediately.

“How the fuck did you get so good at this, huh?” He asks once you’ve released him from your mouth with a wet plop. Your lips are so swollen, wet and shiny as they twitch into a tiny smile.

"I practiced," you say, almost shyly, if that's even possible anymore. "I have this, uh... toy, that I use. I wanted it to be good for you."

And christ, that mental imagine is fucking enough as is, isn't it? Pretty lips wrapped around a silicon cock like a popsicle, forcing it deeper and deeper until your eyes water and you gag, making yourself work through it until it's second nature. God, he wonders if you fuck yourself with it once you've wetted it with your mouth, if your poor little cunt gets weepy when you practice sucking cock for him.

He forces his cock into your throat, deeper and deeper as he listens to the sloppy pathetic noises as he fucks into the wet heat of your mouth. God, you must’ve watched so much porn to teach yourself how to give a good blowjob— he can see it in the way you keep your gaze locked on his, eyes half-lidded and darkened with lust. How he feels you moaning around his dick like you’re getting off on the way he’s using you.

He cums down your throat and you swallow everything he gives you with a pretty smile. Give a few soft licks to the sensitive head of his cock, then smile up at him like you’re pleased with yourself.

It’s literally that night that he sends you the first link. He just can’t stop thinking about you trying to find inspiration and guidance from shitty porn websites, he wants to give you some more <3 Stuff he likes. He likes thinking about you touching yourself to it, desensitizing yourself to kinkier things as he introduces you. The first video isn’t even that bad— just a bit of gagging on fingers, some guy fucking a girl with his fingers fishhooked in his mouth so she gets all drooly and sloppy.

You practice timidly— hooking your fingers in your cheek like he shows in the video while you’re playing with yourself. It aches a little, but it’s not crazy. You wouldn’t mind letting him do that. Sure enough, the next time you fuck, he has you on all fours with his fingers shoved in your mouth— messy and drooly and muffling your pathetic little moans as he bullies his cock into your tight little pussy. And god, he swears you’re tighter like this, when you’re submitting to what he wants, when you let him do whatever he wants to you.

So he ups the stakes a little. Shows you things that make you get all embarrassed about when you think about actually doing it. Spanking piques your interest, so does bondage, the total submission of it all. Maybe for things like that he’s there with you, and you’re laid against his chest, his fingers are playing with your pussy, getting you so, so wet while you watch. Making sure you take it all in before he has you act it all out for him.

You get so wet, grinding up against his fingers because you need more— because you’re greedy. You’re watching porn where the girls are treated like toys and you’re drooling for it— dripping messy and needy onto his fingers, onto the bedsheets. He kind of wants to push your limits, to see how far things could go, but he doesn’t… yet.

You do drip for him when he bends you over his lap, when he spanks your ass until it’s stinging and aches and your eyes are all teary when you tell him it hurts so bad. He stops, but he’s consumed by the desire to see how far he could take things, to see what your limits are. Maybe some other time, when you know what a safeword is and you understand the game he wants to play. But even then, the thought of having that much control over you is intoxicating— maybe he shouldn’t have it.

He rewards you for taking the spanking so well with his mouth on your pussy— lapping at your soaked, swollen cunt until you’re cumming onto his tongue. He could live between your thighs, spend his entire life chasing the taste of your juices, the feeling of your pussy pulsing around the intrusion of his tongue. You’re a mess of spit and cum by the time he’s finished with you— your poor little clit overstimulated and twitching. But still, you take his cock. Soft and warm and pliant for him, so fucking perfect.

And you love it, don’t you? You love pleasing him like this, keeping him happy by doing what he wants. He always wants you, there’s no other girl he’s doing this with, no one else he’s thinking about when he’s jerking off. You’re like a muse in that way. Besides, there’s nothing he could show you that you’d turn away from, nothing he would do that would ever hurt you. You trust him, so it’s okay. You love Art, and this is just his way of showing you he loves you back, because of course he can’t say it.

—————

HAPPY BIRTHDAY LADYBUG ANON WE LOVE U <3