#am i drooling?

[westernstarofthenorth]

1...2...3...4... 😁😋🥰😍🤩

[yunisverse]

Been thinking about my old fakemons and what good good pubbies they are.

Cerbernard's barrel is full of aged berry juice that works as a Full Heal for lost and injured mountaineers. Berrel's barrel is full of Berrel.

[bubbarnes]

“... at the end of the trailer, I think I am a bit of both Bucky Barnes and The Winter Soldier, you know? maybe I don't kill them first.”

[hazel-callahan]

ruby cruz's different takes on hazel's introduction <33

[totallyradicalmucky]

Beautiful Old Stray Kitty that I took in from old wet cement land and love so much getting groomed as he should because he’s very sweet and loving

or

Fuckass hamster that won’t die despite its many chronic diseases and the despicable situations this beast gets into.. but he is funny sometimes I guess

[kaikonn]

What is more queer than a cowboy kissing a leather-wearing punk rocker

(Shane is standing on his tiptoes a lil bit <3)

[westernstarofthenorth]

Cause of death- drowned in her own drool... 😋😛😜🤪💦💦💦💦💦💦💦

[pxuvalentinx]

timeskip kuroo, nsfw

Tetsurō Kuroo, who swears that he hears you purr his name sometimes. Like he could be talking to his friends and you'd come up behind him - “Tetsurrrrō~" or "Kurrrrroo~” and it drives him mad. He hates how much it turns him on, his dick standing up straight as soon as he hears you rolling the r in his name so smoothly. To him, you sounded like a cat trying to get his attention, and he was more than willing to give it to you.

But once you do it during sex, oh, he will show no mercy. As soon as he hears the whiney moan withdraw from your mouth, in combination with his purred name, he becomes absolutely feral. His dick will be drilling into you even further at a ruthless pace, while his grip on your hips tightens so much, that you're going to wake up to marks on them.

“Yeah kitty? Feelin’ so good it got you purrin' hm?”

 ©pxuvalentinx - do not steal, modify, translate or repost my work.

[baby-yongbok]

I.N at BST Hyde Park in London

[Not my video! Video Credit to Owner.]

[mlm-blues]

when guys stretch their arms up and their shirt rides up and u can see the waistband of their boxers 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 hiiiii

[jadewritesficshere]

Grey

Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Synopsis: Steve gets a wake up call from yall's daughter

Contents: talks of aging, kids being kids, references to smut but nothing explicit

Steve groans as his consciousness comes to. Something is hitting his face. Someone. Repeatedly.

Steve squints his bleary eyes open as a hand smacks him in the jaw again. A small smile appears on his face even though his jaw stings from the impact. "Morning," Steve's voice is still thick with sleep as he turns to look into brown eyes barely peeking over the edge of the bed.

A quiet voice repeats back ,"Morning," to Steve before arms reach up over the edge of the bed to try and grasp something. Small hands grab the blanket and tug it off of him slightly as the child attempts to climb up. At two and half, Amelia Joy Harrington can barely see above the edge of her parents' bed, let alone get on it.

Steve hoists Amelia up and sits her on his stomach. Steve winces as Amelia scrambles, a stray foot hitting his thigh precariously close to his crotch. Arms are thrown around his neck in a hug as Amelia lays her head against her dad's chest.

Steve feels like his heart could burst out of his chest from the joy he is feeling. A hug from his baby? The best way to wake up in the morning. Who cares if his jaw is still stinging and probably red, his little girl loves him.

Steve sighs in contentment. Steve holds his daughter close until she starts to fidget and wiggle. Amelia sits up and throws her hands in the air. "Happy Birthday!" She whispers excitedly, except she has no concept of how quiet a whisper should actually be and says it in a much too loud voice.

"What?" Steve asks, hand hovering near Amelia's side in case she slips. Amelia's eyebrows furrow as she pouts at him, a look that is an exact copy of you. Her arms slowly lower as she stares at Steve. "Happy Birthday. You old." Amelia pouts at him.

Steve blinks at Amelia in confusion but nods his head. First off, rude, he isn't that old. Steve isn't sure where she gets her unfiltered, blunt commentary (it absolutely isn't him). Second, it absolutely isn't his birthday. Not even close.

"Why uh...why is it my birthday?" Steve asks, unsure if Amelia fully understands the concept. Not sure if he can explain the idea of a birthday to a two (and a half) year old. "Grey." Amelia declares giving Steve whiplash. Before Steve can speak, Amelia points at the comforter," Blue." Steve smiles," Yes, blue."

Amelia points to her shirt," Green." Steve nods. Amelia taps under Steve's eye, lashes brushing against her finger causing him to close it. Steve hopes she doesn't attempt to actually poke his eye.

"Brown." Amelia declares. "Thats right." Steve grins, his girl is so smart. Amelia points to his temple," Grey." "That's ri- what?! No!" Steve's mouth drops open as Amelia giggles. "Uncle Dustbin says grey is old. Birthday makes old. Happy Birthday!"

The creak of the loose floorboard in the hall notifies Steve of your approach. You peek into the doorway of the room, seeing your two favorite people. One looking aghast and the other giggling at her father's reaction.

"What's going on in here?" You ask, leaning against the doorway. "Grey. Birthday." Amelia announces, like it explains everything. And it does in her little mind.

You hum in response, looking at your husband who seems lost for words. Amelia slides off of Steve and off the bed, Steve guiding her so her feet land on the ground absent-mindedly. He would never let her fall or get hurt. Or you.

Amelia half walks half dances in your direction. A prance in her step, she stops in front of you and grabs your hands. "It's daddy's birthday," She says before headbutting your leg. You chuckle and pat her head as she dances out of the room, in her own little world.

"You lying to my kid again?" You ask once Amelia is gone. Steve sputters as he sits up," I did not- our kid- did not lie." "Uh-huh, sure," you say sarcastically. Steve rolls his eyes at you as he gets up out of bed.

Steve stretches as he rocks on his feet, back cracking, before strolling over to you. "Good morning," Steve mumbles, hand landing on your hip. You hum back as he leans in and kisses you. Soft. Slow. Sweet. Leaving you longing for more as he pulls back.

"Love you," Steve says, fingers running along the waistband of your pants. "I love you too," you want to melt into him. Curl up in his arms and stay in this moment. Let the love and adoration fill the air around you.

"Do I look old?" Steve is the first to break the silence. Your brow furrows in confusion," huh?" "Amelia she," Steve huffs out a laugh," said I have grey hair." You chuckle as you bring a hand up, fingers threading through his hair," You have some but its nice." "Its nice huh?" "Makes you look distinguished. Handsome." You bite your lip and look up at him.

Steve knows that look. Knows it well. It's the look you gave him the first time you moved past just making out. The same look you gave him on your first anniversary. The same look you wore on your wedding night. The same look you gave before Amelia was conceived.

Steve can't help the smirk that spreads across his face. If getting old gives him that look, well, he won't complain.

"What about me?" You ask, batting your lashes. "Beautiful," Steve kisses your cheek," Gorgeous," he kisses the corner of your lips. He continues to alternate between kissing all over your face and praising you.

"My love," Steve whispers before kissing you softly on the lips. You sigh into the kiss, one hand tangling in his hair, the other trying to pull him closer.

A loud crash from the living room has you two pulling back from the sweet moment you stole. "What was that?" You call down the hall. "Nothing!" Amelia yells back, making you sigh but smile. Steve can't help but grin too. His life was a little hectic dealing with a rambunctious child, but he wouldn't trade it for the world. And he thinks, if life is like this, he can manage getting old with you. He wouldn't want it any other way.

[doveinruins]

I normally hate cheating in fiction but damn does it hit so much harder when someone cheats with their sibling.

Like really? Wow he is so down bad for his little brother that even though he has a happy wife who supports and loves him, he still goes out of his way to pamper, spoil, coddle and then fuck his baby brother? Like honestly! And even though big brother has never been fucked he can’t say no when his baby bro asks to fuck his ass! And when big bro becomes a cock hungry slut for his little brother, when he’s fingerfucking himself in the shower to the thought of his little brother’s dick after fucking his wife to the very same thoughts, that’s when he realises he’s gone too far. But he still won’t stop… he loves his brother, that’s all… they just love each other.

[mikichko]

stress relief inspired by the silly question I get asked whenever I tell people I don't drink alcohol pairing: kyle 'gaz' garrick x reader a/n: still figuring out this smut shit and wrote this in a haze so... enjoy? cw: nsfw, explicit smut, p in v sex, no real gendered terms but reader has vag+clit so do with that what you will <3, all lower case

“drink?” a scarred hand blocks your leftmost view. in it is a can of some shitty seltzer drink that's already dripping with condensation.

you shake your head, chin resting on your hand as you continue to watch the silent baseball game. phillies are down by four against the fucking cubs. what a fucking disgrace. 

“you sure? can always get you another flavor.” he places the drink on the counter next to you, a ring already forming on the wood.

you turn to him, meeting brown eyes, “not fond of alcohol. diet coke is more my vice. the carcinogens make it fun.” 

he snorts, taking a sip from his brown drink. you pull your eyes from him and turn them back to the screen, ready to watch your team continue to get dogged. 

“so how do you relieve stress then?” he’s on the stool next to you now. he’s so broad he eats up some of your personal space, more of it when he leans in anticipating your answer.

your head cocks in confusion, half of you still turned to the tv to see if the phillies will get their shit together. “sorry, what do you mean?”

he glances at the tv, trying to gauge what it is about this silly sport that has you so engaged. he shrugs, following the movements of the pitcher and the batter, “y’know, some of us throw back a drink or two to ease that tension. what do you do?”

you freeze for a moment and you’re thankful that you’re staring at the tv and not at kyle. you don’t think you could keep your poker face on if you were looking him in the eye. because, how exactly do you tell your friend that your favorite method of stress relief is to make yourself cum until you’re a sweaty, whiny, slick mess twitching on your bed. how do you even keep a straight face when that would be your first thought? especially when your friend looks as good as kyle does.

instead, you hyperfocus on the game. the movement of the ball, the pitching clock, the umpire’s hand signals, all of it to stop thinking about how nice it’d be for kyle to spread you out and fuck the tension out of your body. you lick your lips as you try to find an excuse or any words to steer the conversation in any other direction.

licking your lips is a mistake. it only makes you more aware of how quickly your mouth is filling with saliva, no matter how fast you swallow it all down. fucking hell. he just had to remind you of how long it’s been since you’ve been able to take care of yourself. the stress of life and its shitty fucking responsibilities fucking up your routine. gotta get yourself out of this somehow.

you shrug nonchalantly, at least try to, taking a sip of the fruity virgin mixture in front of you. “nothing really. it kinda just, yknow, dissipates.”

he snorts, shaking his head at your response, “fucking bullshit. i’ve seen you so wound up you nearly kicked soap’s head through the wall. next day you walked up to him and gave him a kiss on the cheek.” he drums his fingers on the counter studying you, “too quick a turn for it to just, dissipate”

is he a fucking narc? what’s his fucking deal with all these questions? this has never come up before. why’s he so fucking interested in your stress relief methods all of a sudden?

what kyle fails to mention is that he heard you the night of your tiff with soap. that he shared a wall with you while you fucked yourself raw and the slick had dripped all the way down to your asshole and onto the bed. had to fucking bite his pillow while he fisted his cock at the sound of you cumming, a high-pitched whine before you bit your lip and rode out the orgasm with breathy gasps. 

he wanted to break down your door that night. dip his thick girthy length into your wet hole just to feel how slick you got after you came. wanted to pin you down, maybe get price in there to hold your legs to see how loud you got when he kept sucking on your clit after you came. see how you’d fight against him, beg him to stop because you’d never done this before. never had your clit feel so raw before. wanted to see if you’d bless him with that sweet creamy mess he’d been dreaming of for fucking months.

he came four times that night. cock raw and balls empty just at the sounds of you he got through the wall. you’d only cum three times, clearly too cautious to really let go and make a nice and proper mess of yourself. he’d told himself that was just something he’d have to rectify later

you clear your throat, watching the teams switch positions on the field, “dunno what to tell you man, yoga does wonders.”

kyle hums around the rim of his glass, eyes dropping to your legs, not missing the way your thighs press together. more than necessary to keep yourself comfortable on the stool. 

“must be some kind of crazy fucking yoga. gotta tell me the studio, instructor too”

your head whips around to kyle, eyebrows drawn tight together, “what?”

he shrugs, eyes never leaving the tv, “it just seems to help you out so much, i want to try it for myself.”

you sputter for a second, fingers gripping the edge of the counter, “kyle i-”

he leans in a little, “i promise i wont tell the rest of the boys. you’ll get to keep your yoga spot a secret. but i really want to try it out. share with me please?”

he’s fucking with you, right? he has to be. there’s no fucking way he’s actually interested in this. you don’t even know enough yoga spots in the area to come up with another lie to round out your story. you don’t even have enough time to flounder in the depths of your mind.

kyle hooks a foot around one of your legs, “cmon, please. i’m really trying to find alterna-”

“kyle!” you hiss, interrupting him. completely fed up with his insistence your voice drops, “fucking hell i was lying. i don’t fucking do yoga. i just… i can’t fucking tell you.”

his eyebrows knit together in mock confusion, “what do you mean? aren’t we friends?”

you lick your lips as you try to find the words. “some friends just dont share everything kyle.”

he scoffs, “fucking bullshit. you told all of us when you got that broad off in the alleyway behind buckey’s. practically told the whole bar.” 

“jesus christ, can you keep your voice fucking down!?”

“god i’m just saying if you can tell me that then you can-”

“for fucks sake,” you hiss out. you’re getting hot, and not the fun kind, the longer this conversation continues, “i make myself cum okay? over and over and over again until i’m fucking twitchy. until i cant think about or feel anything besides how good i fucking feel. fucking happy now?”

kyle’s grin is wide, his eyes have something swimming in there that you hadn’t noticed before. “yeah actually.”

there’s a pause as you let his words hang there, confusion evident in your face. what the fuck is going on.

“so,” he throws back the rest of his drink right as the cubs batter hits another ball into the stands, “you going to show me? told you i want to try your method out.”

somehow, it’s a blur despite not a drop of alcohol in your system, you end up underneath him. 

he uses the head of his cock to spread your puffy lips apart, groaning at the pool of wetness that appears. he swirls it with his cock, tapping around the clenching hole, “just giving it a kiss love. gotta be polite” 

his tongue pokes out of his mouth as he presses his thumb down right under the head pushing it into you. a low groan escapes him as he presses past the tight ring of muscle, head falling back as he thrusts shallowly into you. “fuck that’s good. can’t believe you’ve been keeping this from me”

whatever response you had for him is wiped from your brain as he bottoms out into you. you groan simultaneously at the feeling. he’s panting trying to get accustomed to how fucking hot and tight you are around him. you’re wriggling, trying to put some distance to ease the feeling of being so fucking full. you don’t get very far. “fucking hell kyle!” you cry out as he drives his hips into you. he’s got you open wide under him, arms positioned so that you cant shut him out, forced to take the beating that his hips deliver.

“it’s stress relief,” he groans as he grinds his hips into your wet heat. your fingers digging into his shoulders at his movements, “supposed to be a little rough”

he grins, licking his lips before he gives you a particularly filthy thrust. you can’t help the ‘fuck me’ you cry out.

kyle licks a wide strip up your neck, teeth catching your chin before biting down and making you whine. “i’m trying to baby,” he whispers into your ear, groaning when you squeeze him at the sound of the petname. he’s panting into your ear again, “fuck baby,” another groan as you clench around him again, “you like it when i call you that?” he huffs a little, the cadence of his thrusts changing to be slower, deeper. “didn’t know you were a romantic love.”

you’re not. or at least you’ve not been in the past but you can’t help how you react with the way that kyle’s cock is scrambling the connection of your brain. fuck, you couldn’t think before when he was just using you as a little sleeve but now, with those slow deep thrusts, he’s turning your brain into liquid. you wouldn’t be surprised if it started leaking out of your ears.

it’s just been so fucking long since you’ve been properly fucked, you tell yourself. resigned to your toys and hands for more than two years. too busy and too easily annoyed to deal with the person that a nice warm cock came attached to. that’s all it is you tell yourself as kyle praises you and your body arches into him. you’re just raw, in more ways than one, that’s why it’s making such an impact on you.

“fuck, baby, are you getting wetter when i fuck you like this?” he rolls his hips again, you can’t help but whine. another low groan from him, “fuck you are. god you love it when i do it like this huh?” 

one of his hands lets go of your leg, finding your own and interlacing them. he holds your hand over your head, hips not even stuttering, “promise i’ll fuck you nice and lovely right now baby. let you get all nice and wet, all messy for me. then you’ll let me slut you out right? let me use this pussy like i want to? i just wanna see what you’ve been keeping from me. gotta let me have you more than just one way.”

your entire body tenses at that, eyes rolling a little at the sound of it. fuck you’re already near the edge and he’s talking about more. more of this nice thick cock plunging into the deepest part of you. kissing the spongy spots inside you until you’re cumming around him more than once. god is he trying to imitate a session? his cock your own toy for personal use? 

no. no, this session is for him. you’re his toy. a little sleeve for him to test out, to get a taste of what he’s been missing he said. you just get the delicious benefit of getting to cum on his cock until you’re leaving a nice frothy ring on the base of his cock. christ. this man is going to ruin your stress relief for you.

“cmon baby, give me what i want” then he’s pressing a small bullet vibrator right on your clit, groaning at the vibration against his pelvis. you cant help but squeal and try to wiggle away from him but he has you pinned. the thrashing doesn’t help, if anything it aides in getting the vibrations right on your aching clit. it’s not long before the war sensation over takes your body and your eyes roll back as you twitch around kyle’s cock. 

“fuck yeah,” he laughs airily as you keep cumming around him. fuck you must be squeezing him so tightly you can feel him, “there it is love. love seeing you like that.”

he presses a kiss to your jaw before pressing one to your lips. “love that its me doing this to you. gonna see how many you can give me before i cum in this sweet pussy okay? wanna see all the ways i can get you to cum. keeping such a sweet little thing from me love.”

all you can do is nod. he’ll be relieving your stress for sure.

[karlachismylife]

I just know Gaz is so fucking good at rock climbing. He's just built perfectly for it, he's got the endurance, the flexibility, the grip, the core strength, the agility, the arm spread, he's not too bulky and heavy like Soap or Ghost, his height gives him quite a lot of advantages (even though sometimes there are trails for us hobbits, but mostly being tall helps). Price could probably give him a run for his money, but since I headcanon that Price has seriously fucked up his spine and joints, especially in his fingers, he might be held back by this. Also I feel like Kyle has the best endurance out of all four of them, so he does extremely well on the long ones. He's also got that magical ability to be able to take a rest at the tiniest little handle, like literally catches himself with two toes and a pinch on a non-existent bump in the rock and relaxes as if he's lounging on a beach, all muscles resting before the upcoming difficult few meters.

Also he's one of those who will climb even in slippers, just because he gotta flex like that.

No I'm not drooling over his fingers wrapped in that tape in places where he ripped calluses off, you are.

Also this was induced by a SoapGaz thought where Gaz runs Soap through some intensive training on the climbing walls and enjoys the view of all that muscle bulk flexing and rippling as Soap struggles to find his balance and makes mistakes in dispersing his weight which limits his reach. He's so tense, he can barely slur his Scottish nonsense out, sweat streaming down the dip of his spine and soaking his tank top through.

When he finally falls of the wall after reaching the top handle, his fingers are shaking and he needs Kyle's help to untie the harness knot. Wipes his forehead, leaving a white streak of magnesia stuck to the wet skin, and huffs and grumbles about how he'll still beat Kyle's PR one day.

Gaz won't let him, of course. But he won't stop Johnny from trying either, because after that he gets to massage all those sore muscles Soap didn't even know existed, and listen to him groan as he shamelessly leaks into his boxers. Because why wouldn't Soap get off the post-gym muscle strain, really. And why wouldn't Gaz enjoy watching him get painfully hard and sensitive from barely sexual touch, exploding into his mouth as soon as Kyle wraps his lips around Soap's tip.

[strandedtoodeep]

logan

logan's tummy

logan's fluffy tummy

that's it

[lady-ashfade]

Emma/Rhaenyra looks so pretty in a septa outfit and I was drooling

AHHH! I love them so much. My queen.