#NEED HIM NEED HIM NEED HIM

[dabisbratz]

Just toji and his cock stretchin' your ass open but he still presses the barrel of his gun against the rim of your hole jus' to mess with you ☆*:.｡.o(≧▽≦)o.｡.:*☆

ahh n it’s so cold !! can’t help but tense up— squeezin around his cock in return— n he takes it as you bein a greedy slut for more . . . at first, he considers not givin you his cock at all, says ydont deserve it yet, can’t handle him, considers fuckin the muzzle of his pistol into you instead.. but you whine n cry so pretty, take his cock so nicely.. wrap around him just right n clamp down like a vice !! clicks his tongue when his pistol breaches your rim, cold n slick n fightin against your pretty lil hole, laughs at you for runnin from it, ‘quit your cryin’, it’s makin’ me hard’

[sibcxn]

need a big bro who's a foot taller than me and uses my holes whenever he pleases, leaving me dripping and whining on the couch

[artdcnaldson]

thank god ur talking about dodge btw i need to have like a day by the lake w him and get convinced to skinny dip when the sun goes down

reallll just hot and lazy :(( like one of those Texas summers where it’s syrup-y for lack of a better word 😌 lounging on a dock tanning, listening to a random Spotify playlist, drinking cold cokes or beers from an ice chest. It getting so hot you hold the icy can to the back of your neck for a second for an ounce of relief. And once the sun goes down and it’s dark and there are stars in the sky and fireflies buzzing around blinking you suggest it. He’s so fucking !?!?!!?? That he just blinks a few times, laughs and shakes his head. So you tell him fine, you’ll do it alone. And he just has to sit there and watch as you strip and slip into the warm lake water.

He joins pretty soon after that.

[unapologetic-boy-kisser]

Fuck cant stop thinkin about him

The way he shakes when I force his cock still inside me. Feeling his hips start to twitch as I whisper dirty nothings into his ear, close enough to flick my tongue out against the lobe and make him scream into my neck-

"Not there Sir please please fuck I cant control myself if you play with my ears, please no no no Im gonna go insane please I wanna be good, stop or Im gonna cum inside you, please Sir"

Ive never done anything hotter, need him so carnally I feel like an animal sinking my teeth into him. Need to breed him every fucking day, any chance I get, makes me fucking FERAL

[tojisun]

he walks like it’s heavy

[strawblemon]

Slut

[javiersprincess]

“faithful to his own self-interest” i need him to be toxic and possessive about me so bad like you guys have no idea

[carmenberzattosgf]

.

[darby-rowe]

dr. wilson and his kind, brown eyes… :(

[helaelaemond]

more Michael fic as the trailer is here?? Please!

if i can find time between running my vibrator battery down

[livfastdieyoung69]

rewatching x-men movies before i see deadpool & wolverine and young hugh with the damn spiked hair has got me feeling things i haven’t felt in a while

[katsumox]

…..hobie brainrot !!!!!????????? send asks ?????? please !!!!?!!!!! i beg !!!!

[gladiatorcunt]

just saw the hayden video

[artdcnaldson]

i do a lot of maladaptive daydreaming so i feel like a lot of the things i want to send are too elaborate to subject you to also idk how to write a prompt but i've been thinking thoughts about dodge mason...

and competing against him in bronc riding events. you've just moved to the area and you're good. impressively, frustratingly good. he's heard the old heads murmur about you: 18 years old, feisty little thing, giving some of these seasoned professionals a real run for their money.

dodge doesn't feel intimidated by you—so what if you've won a few local competitions? he's the best in the county. the state, even. he's humble about it, of course, but he's starting to run out of room on his trophy shelves. 

obviously, he's curious though. anyone would be. so he drives to a competition out of town. he’s casual about it, dressed in a black tshirt and jeans, lingers in the back of the crowd, hands in his pockets. he doesn’t know who to look for—no one ever mentioned your name or any physical characteristics (the latter is a bit shocking, really. you must be really damn good for the rodeo chauvinists to speak only on your skill). 

he figures it out the second he sees you on a horse. there’s something enchanting about the way you ride: graceful and confident, your pigtail braids flying through the air as the horse tries to buck you off of its back, a pearly grin on your face. you brush yourself off when you jump to the ground. you walk back around the gate and he finds himself making quite the effort not to stare while you shuck off your vest and remove your mouthguard. he’s not doing a great job, though. you finally catch him staring, his gaze way more intense than he probably intended. you cock your head and offer him an awkward smile and a small wave. 

he swallows when he realizes you’re approaching him. he was hoping you might’ve been walking toward the people behind him or making your way to the bleachers, but your eyes are locked with his as you stride toward him, kicking up dust with your bedazzled cowboy boots. he scans his eyes over your body—with the intention of sizing up the competition. Not to check you out. 

if he were checking you out though, the way your jeans hug your figure would make him sweat. you unbutton your shirt as you walk, the front panels falling away to reveal a dainty little tank top. your chest gleams with sweat and a shiny charm necklace bounces between your breasts. your cheeks, kissed by the sun, burn brighter with the exertion of the ride. you have to tilt your head back to keep eye contact with him. his mouth feels dry. 

“you’re dodge mason. you hold the county record,” you hold out a tiny hand and smile, warmer this time. he takes your hand and nods, wracking his brain for a better response. he’d always been a bit frugal with words, especially around strangers. he was a thinker. conversational skills were never a priority of his. 

however, there wasn’t much thought behind the “uh, yeah,” he finally offers. he scrunches his nose a bit at his own response. you wait a beat to make room for another sentence. he nods again and manages to add, “state too.” you pull your hand away. the third smile you give him is harder to read. 

rodeo is full of needle-dicked assholes. drunk on machismo, their egos enter the room before they do. you’ve met your fair share; they huff and puff and grumble obscenities when you beat them. you think dodge seems like one of them. you purse your lips and nod to yourself. 

“well, i just came over here to tell you that i’m coming for your records. i thought i’d be kind and warn you so you can prepare yourself to lose. most men don’t take too kindly to it,” you don’t give him any time to respond before you turn on your heel and walk away. he shoves his hands in his pockets and watches you go. he looks down at the ground where you stood and smiles to himself. huh. 

OOOOUUUGHGHGHHHH DODGE MASON IN MY INBOX <3 Also I'm a maladaptive daydreamer as well <3 twins <3

And he watches you at the next rodeo— not just during your event, but always. The way you offer smiles like it's nothing, how your clothes always sparkle in the Texas sun— bedazzled across the pockets of your jeans, sparkly rhinestoned cowboy boots, across your tits on your tanktop. It's like you know people are going to look at you, so you might as well give them something fun to see.

He must look like a fucking creep to everyone else— lingering and leering. You crouch down to talk to a little girl who was watching your event, smiling brightly, all sweet and friendly. The little girl hands you a horse plushie, which you try to refuse, but ultimately walk away with. You're nice to everyone you meet... until you spot Dodge.

"Are you stalking me?" The plush is still tucked safely in your arms as you look up at him, and he finds himself uncomfortably nervous to try his hand at conversation.

Dodge blanches, a bit. "No, I'm not st—" He swallows hard, tries to deflect. He had been spending his day following you around, kind of. "You nearly beat the county record."

His county record. You nod, mouth twisted to the side as you look at him. "Mhmm." You glance past him. "Did you need something?"

"Uh... no. Just wanted to tell you I was impressed."

It's meant to be a compliment, an olive branch to soothe... whatever it was that he had fucked up during that first conversation. Instead, your brows knit, and you scoff. "Oh, well, thank you, Dodge Mason. What would a girl like me do without your approval?"

You've heard all about Dodge. Well, rumors mostly. He didn't play well with others— unless they were buckle bunnies lingering around after his events. He wasn't there to make friends, or whatever. Which is fine. You didn't need to be friends with an egotistical, narcissistic dickhead, and you certainly weren't going to give him the satisfaction of letting him fuck you.

Even if he was incredibly talented, and attractive, and his cologne smelled really nice after being surrounded by horses and mud and sweat all afternoon.

"I think a girl like you would be just fine," he says, and you want to scowl at the flutter of something in the pit of your stomach. "Congratulations on the win."

He's competing in the next Rodeo you're at. You watch his event, eyes wide, almost mesmerized by his skill. He's not just good, he's effortless out there. He spots you, tips his hat, and you swear you feel the angry glares of five pretty girls all vying for his affection.

[fagrackham]

had one singular glass of white wine….art donaldson where are you…..

[swedenis-h]

Wife lovers till they die