#canine enthusiasts

[canineenthusiasts]

dog care

If you’re a proud pup parent, take heart: proper care for your pup doesn’t have to be complicated! Make sure to give your pup nourishing food, plenty of quality play time, and regular check-ups at the vet. And don’t forget to lavish lots of love and attention on your furry friend!

[redneckchevyy]

YEEYEE!! 🇺🇸

.

.

Nother post today cuz no one stopped me,, here’s an older drawin I did of our favorite idiotic redneck mechanic,, my OC Chevy, AKA me as a dog 😎👍🏻 It’s also my PFP for a lot of platforms I’m on aswell xddd, never been proud of a drawin that’s more than a month old but this one is decent nuff fer me to still like it, despite it bein from like November last year 🤣🤣 anywayz hope y’all enjoy 👍🏻

[azouphi]

he wants to kiss her so bad...

[jrueships]

my little meow meow 😊

[drgnbld]

on mobile so forgive the large picture but I see dash talk about teeth and i-

[wellie27]

COFFEE AND Cute CAT Sweatshirt

Start your day with a dose of cuteness and caffeine! This is the perfect blend of morning motivation and furry fun, this design is sure to brighten your day and bring a smile to your face. It is a great gift or a coffee enthusiasts and cat lovers.

[iamactivedoggy]

Unleash Your Creativity with the American Blue Nose Pitbull Hardcover Journal

Are you a proud parent of an American Blue Nose Pitbull? Do you find yourself captivated by their charm, loyalty, and playful nature? If so, we have the perfect addition to your collection of Pitbull-themed treasures - the American Blue Nose Pitbull Hardcover Journal.

Why Choose Our Journal?

Premium Quality: Crafted with care and attention to detail, our Hardcover Journal features a durable cover adorned with a stunning image of an American Blue Nose Pitbull. The high-quality paper ensures smooth writing and prevents ink bleeding, providing a delightful writing experience.

Versatile Usage: Whether you're jotting down daily reflections, sketching your furry friend's portrait, or making to-do lists, our journal is the perfect companion for all your creative endeavors. With its compact size, you can take it with you wherever you go, allowing you to capture inspiration on the fly.

Inspiration Meets Functionality: Beyond its aesthetic appeal, our journal serves as a source of inspiration and motivation for Pitbull enthusiasts. Each page invites you to express your love for these magnificent dogs, whether through words, drawings, or doodles. Let your creativity flow as you fill the pages with memories, dreams, and aspirations.

The Perfect Gift: Looking for a thoughtful and unique gift for a fellow Pitbull lover? Look no further than our Hardcover Journal. Whether it's a birthday, holiday, or special occasion, our journal is sure to delight and inspire the recipient, fostering a deeper connection with their favorite breed.

How to Make the Most of Your Journal

Daily Reflections: Start each day by jotting down your thoughts, feelings, and goals. Use the journal as a tool for self-discovery and personal growth, reflecting on the bond you share with your American Blue Nose Pitbull.

Sketching Sessions: Tap into your artistic side and unleash your creativity by sketching portraits of your beloved Pitbull. Experiment with different drawing styles and techniques, capturing the unique personality of your furry companion on paper.

Training Logs: Keep track of your Pitbull's training progress, milestones, and achievements in the journal. Document training sessions, obedience commands, and behavioral insights, creating a valuable resource for continuous improvement.

Gratitude Journaling: Cultivate an attitude of gratitude by dedicating a section of the journal to daily gratitude practices. Express appreciation for the love, companionship, and joy that your American Blue Nose Pitbull brings into your life, fostering a deeper sense of connection and fulfillment.

Get Your American Blue Nose Pitbull Hardcover Journal Today!

Ready to embark on a journey of creativity, inspiration, and self-expression? Head over to iamactivedog.com and order your American Blue Nose Pitbull Hardcover Journal today. Join our community of Pitbull enthusiasts and unleash your creativity with every stroke of the pen. Let the bond between you and your furry friend inspire greatness in every aspect of your life.

[textmel8r]

[ SMAU + DRABBLE ] 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐀𝐑 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 ! ( eighth installment ) in which you find toji fushiguro’s number off a sugar baby site .

୨୧˚ part; one. two. three. four. five. six. seven. eight. nine. ten. eleven.

୨୧˚ incl; toji fushiguro

୨୧˚ cw; sugarmommy! reader , sugarbaby! toji , smut , submissive toji , finger sucking , masturbation , oral sex (f!receiving) , profanity

୨୧˚ an; so not happy with my writing in this one, probs will rewrite it one day but here, have a couple thousand words of smut🗣️ this is lowkey another filler but lowkey not at the same time? i wanted to fit in another intimate moment before shit goes south awooooooo

You were not fibbing when you said you knew your way around the kitchen. “Holy fuck,” Toji all but moans, tearing into another piece of tender meat with his canines. It was juicy and seasoned almost too much, just the way he likes it. He squints across the table, where you eat in tandem with much better manners than he could ever hope to have. “Who taught you how to cook like this?”

You shrug bashfully under his gawking, wiping your mouth with a dainty stroke of the napkin you had placed in your lap. “I traveled a lot in between semesters at college. Italy, France, Denmark…” You list a few more places that Toji wouldn’t be able to point out on a map. “Those European countries do food so good, I guess it inspired me to give my best shot at it as well.” Self taught, huh? Yeah, you seem like the type to succeed in everything you try. 

The man nods, ultimately wishing he had more to add. He wishes he had just an ounce in common with you, a smidgen of relatability to offer. But he doesn’t. Toji didn’t finish school. He’s never left Japan. He’s never cooked a damn thing from scratch in his life. You must’ve caught on to his struggle and decided to show mercy by adding, “actually, right now we’re eating steak au poivre.”

“Steak au po–” He cut himself off before inevitably butchering the name. “What is that? French?”

You’re nodding enthusiastically. “That’s right. I happened upon this dish when I was staying in Bordeaux with a few college mates.” There’s a sweet smile tugging sheepishly at your lips as you recall the memory. “I fell in love with it the second I tried it, and asked the manager right then and there for the recipe.”

Toji shakes his head with disbelief, talking with his mouth full of food. “You’re just full of stories, aren’t you?”

“Some would call me experienced, yes.”

His brow raises. Experienced? Was that a come on? Toji gives way to his own quaint smile, jutting his chin toward you. “Say it again.”

“Say what again?”

“Steak au whatever.”

You oblige his request, repeating the name back slowly so he could attempt to grasp it. “Steak au poivre. Now you give it a go.”

Toji finishes chewing the mouthful of peppercorn-laced meat, swallowing it down with a swig of the Château Cheval Blanc you’d poured at the start of the meal. Some fancy French imported wine is what he gathered from the long winded description you waxed as you topped off an extravagant glass for him. Wine never really appealed to the man—he usually went for the harder shit. The type that you knock back from lowball glasses. The type to get you piss drunk after three rounds—but it was all you ever drank. It was safe to say he was becoming accustomed to your tastes. Maybe the sweetness wasn’t so terrible. He clears his throat, putting embarrassingly too much effort into his “steak au poivre.” It doesn’t sound pretty the way it did leaving your mouth, and he grimaces. “Can’t fucking do it.”

“I thought you sounded good.” He scoffs at that, but you click your tongue. “I’m serious.”

“Yeah, well, we’ll just leave the French speaking to you.” The plate before him sits scraped clean. You’re still working on your dinner. Fuck, you’re a slow eater. “You know any more?”

“Any more French, you mean?”

He nods along with a gruff hum, swishing his tongue around his teeth, collecting anything left over of that smokiness from the peppered steak. 

“Hm. Tu m'as manqué, Toji.” You hide your grin behind the rim of your glass. 

Thick forearms crossed over chest, he croons a deep, barely-there chuckle. “I heard my name. Tell me what you said.”

“No way,” you chortle.

“Ah, c’mon. You’re all blushy.” He licks over the chappedness of his lower lip, knowing gaze latched onto your lips. It was hypnotic, your smile. “You say somethin’ dirty about me, ma’am?”

The way in which your eyes widened coquettishly at the accusation had Toji’s heart beating just a bit more erratically. Like a fawn, he thinks. All that was missing on you was a white, cottony tail. 

“If I said something dirty, It would have been in a language you could understand.” Finally, you take the last bite off your dish as well. Hopefully that means dinner is officially over; Toji has been craving dessert since he stepped foot in your house and got showered in ‘welcome back’ gifts. “I’m not the type of woman easily embarrassed by my sexuality. I thought you would have picked that up by now.”

He persists. “What are you embarrassed by?”

“Toji.” His name is spoken sharply, a verbal warning that he was tiptoeing the line. Threatening to shatter that layer of thin ice he stood upon. This is what he’s been needing. This is what he’s been fucking needing.

“I’ve been thinking about you, ma’am.” Any semblance of a filter is long gone, melted by the sheer heat of his desire. His limbs feel heavy, hands tumbling into his lap. They rest on the wide surface area of sweatpant-clad thighs, just sitting there. Feeling himself. “This entire week, I’ve been thinking.”

You seem to get the implications of his confession. ���In a sexual way?”

“Yeah.” That’s a white lie. To be truthful was to admit that the sexual thoughts Toji let himself think about you were the minority. Objectifying you in the depths of his mind wasn't enough. He thought about your breasts, sure. He thought about your curves, and your ass, and your mouth, and every other body part that would grant him pleasure. But that wasn’t enough for Toji. Fixations of his tended to lead him astray from fantasies, instead breaching carefully saved memories stored within his brain catalog. When he touched himself, it was more or less to remembrances of mundane tasks you’d dealt him in the past. All the times you had bestowed little gifts and knick knacks on a whim just because they reminded you of him. Or when you drag him to the outlets with you for a shopping spree and he’ll act miserable the entire time, but you both knew it was a horribly crafted facade. Or even, like now, when you’d treat him to dinner because you worry over him and his eating schedule. The little things really counted; a revelation that scared Toji shitless, so he opted to ignore those budding, foreign feelings and replace it with familiarity: lust.

“Toji, honey, are you alright?”

What? His breathing pattern was off kilter, and the muscles of his jaw flexed unconsciously. When had he started palming himself? His right hand had grown a mind of its own apparently, because when Toji stole a glance downward, there it was; kneading roughly at the bulge between his meaty thighs. How desperate was he? To go dormant like that, so consumed with the thought of you that he began to instinctually masturbate himself not even five feet away from where you sit. And why… Why wasn’t he stopping?

“Can we fuck now?”

“Oh.” You barely look shocked. Not the slightest bit appalled like he expected you to be. Instead, slide off a ring that took purchase wrapped around your middle finger. A sigh escapes you as you place the band on the table. “I still have more to ask you. I wanted to know how your work trip went.”

Toji shakes his head, something akin to a toddler trying to get fed vegetables. “No.”

“No?”

“I don’t wanna talk about work.”

“Why not?” You frown, leaning forward against the tabletop. “Was it bad?”

He knows what you’re doing. Trying to make him spill any details about his job. Well, he won’t give in. 

A heavy sigh slithers out hoarsely from the deepest part of his lungs, and Toji presses his palms to the table, pushing himself up. He stands tall, much like the tent at his crotch, and slinks along the roundness of the dinner table, walking his fingertips across the top all the while. “I don’t want to talk,” he reiterates, breathy and abrasive.

Finally, Toji stands before you. Still, you are seated, unbothered by the towering man’s presence. No, you’re swirling your wine glass sophisticatedly, lips pursed into a narrow line. Like you’re the slightest bit irritated with his persistent defiance. 

God, you won't even look at him.

Or maybe, you were never irritated at all. Toji cops a second glance to your lips, finding the faintest ghost of a frown. “You’ve been acting so… so removed. Ever since you left.” Now you’re looking at him; Toji shudders under the intense fire that billows behind your eyes, wide and wetted with worry. “I want you to feel like you can tell me things. I want your trust, Toji.”

You have his trust. Every last crumb of it resides in the palm of your soft hand.

“... And I know that it’s stupid—I’m stupid for wanting that from you. I know what this relationship is, and I know that there are these unspoken boundaries, but I—I can’t—”

It was the first time he’d ever heard you speak with such a volatile expression. There was a tremble of uncertainty in your vocal chords, carrying into the skittish dialogue that tumbled out in rambles. Something about such a show of pity from you, his Y/n, made his guts churn like butter. He can’t listen to this any more. With swiftness, Toji dives down to press his mouth against yours, swallowing the words that die on your tongue. One hand grips the back of your chair, the other holds the roundness of your cheek. He feels your gasp, feels the way your shoulders jolt in surprise, but he doesn’t release you.

This was really only his second instance of kissing you. The first had been in his bed, with his groin pressed to yours, tongue fighting its way to the back of your throat with greedy fervor. This second kiss was anything but greedy, though. Despite the ache that roiled at the base of his stomach, Toji didn’t serve you a kiss that reflected his desire. Tongues never met and spit was never swapped; just lips on glossed lips. 

At last, Toji reluctantly peels away. Lipstick residue feels heavy on his mouth, and he knows he probably looks foolish donning remnants of your dark lip lacquer, but he doesn’t move to wipe his skin. The circular bottom of the wine glass clinks as you clumsily set it down, freeing your hands. They branch upwards, finding his face. A pair of thumbs rub the sensitive pads of flesh beneath his eyes, massaging out those ugly, darkened bags that have accumulated as a result of many sleepless nights. It feels orgasmic, the way you handle him. 

“I trust you.” The words are out in the air before he has time to think.

You brighten, sunshine hiding in the crevices of your smile. “You mean that?” You ask him, hands petting down the sides of his neck.

He meant it wholeheartedly. The amount of trust left within Toji was scarce. Too many bad people fucked him for life; showed him the meaning of the phrase ‘trust is earned.’ So it really fucking freaked him out how quickly you came to earn it. A little over a year-–that’s how long he’s known you—you’ve have plenty of time to fuck him over. To batter him. And yet, you haven’t. All you’ve ever shown him was kindness and consideration and warmth and everything else Toji never knew how bad he was thirsty for.

“Wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it.”

“I trust you, too, Toji.” 

He wonders if he deserves that. Because really, what has given you besides his annoyingly closed-off dickhead attitude? He provides fuck all, but you still stick around. 

Toji doesn’t say anything. He swoops once more, capturing your lips in a hungrier kiss than before. All the playful innocence is tossed aside, forgotten in lieu of Toji’s devastatingly furious need to consume you. Tongues finally greet each other in a spittle-slicked tango; he dominates yours with ease, worming behind your teeth just to collect your sweet flavor. Wine, he thinks. You taste like your goddamn expensive ass wine.

He feels feverish. One-track minded, hyper fixated on you. On your crossed legs underneath the table. “Fuck,” Toji breathes into your mouth, sucking on your bottom lip.

Your hand clashes against the hard wall of his chest, patting it softly. A wordless signal that you need some air, so he retracts. “Let’s go to the bedroom.” 

The plea goes in one ear and falls right out the other. Toji leeches against your neck, dragging the flat of his wet tongue over that little throbbing pulse point. His teeth grate against your flawless skin, completely none the wiser that you’re even talking to him. You thwack the back of his head, and he lurches into the crook of your shoulder, muffling a groan.

“No marks, I’ve got work.”

His eyes roll, face still burrowed against you. He couldn’t give less of a shit about your job right now. 

“Come on, let’s go to my room.” “Gimme a sec.” He’s still licking below your jaw, making his way down. This stupidly lavish house had been cursed with three levels, your bedroom holed up at the very top floor. Like hell Toji was going to part ways with your glorious body so you two could safely make it up the two ridiculous staircases. Fuck that.

“Toji, I’m… serious…” Your raucous pants of anticipation suggest otherwise. Toji has sunken to his knees, crawling beneath the table and finding a home on the floor before your seat. His kneecaps scream in discomfort as they pin heavily to the wooden floorboards, but Toji bears the pain well ( he’d always been somewhat of a masochist ). Your legs are still crossed, one knee hinging over the other. 

“Open these.” Two calloused hands cuff around the thinnest parts of either ankle. Your legs were conspicuously smooth; did you shave for him? There is an attempt at delicacy when Toji pries your legs apart, and it makes you giggle. 

“Here?” You laugh more. Toji suspects you’re patronizing him in a way. “I haven’t even cleared the table. Are you really so impatient?”

And here Toji thought he exercised his patience well. He didn’t jump your bones the second of his arrival. No, he waited like a good boy until after dinner. “I’ve waited for this the whole week.” Restless hands walk up those porcelain calves, strong and lean from working in high heels. They wander up, hooking beneath the junctures of your knees; Toji uses his celestial strength to his advantage, maneuvering both legs with ease until he’s got them resting comfortably over his broad shoulders. Toji turns, cocks his head to give a serpentine lick to the inside of your thigh. Then a bite. “Don’t make me wait any longer. I’ll fucking die.”

You peer down at him. “Don’t talk like that.” You feel yourself. Small hands groping your chest, sliding lower and lower. “You’re not going to die.”

His mouth feels sticky, like there’s a spoonful of honey under his tongue. “I might.”

Your heel drives into his upper back, an impish little warning that makes him throb all over. “Don’t talk like that, I said.” Those manicured hands have garnered Toji’s full attention. They descend all the way to the hem of your luxurious dress, wrenching into its hem. It’s the sexiest sight Toji had ever seen: you pulling your dress up with the quickness of a sloth, inching the fabric up until it scrunches around the dip of your waistline. 

“These are hot,” he murmurs, thumbing the waistband of the scarlet panties. They were tight, sinking into the ample pudge of your hips and soft tummy. So fucking beautiful, he thinks, the contrast between deep red lace and the flesh of which it lays upon. The perfect, little present gift wrapped in a low-rise lace thong. “Bet they cost a pretty penny.”

You spare a breathy exhale through your nostrils. “I don’t look at price tags when I buy things for you.”

You bought these just for him? “You spoil me.”

“You deserve to get spoiled, baby.”

He is so mind numbingly turned on. Sickening tendrils of appetence bleed into his vision, his lust coils around his limbs and guide his movements like a marionette. Toji thumbs your—his—panties to the side, soaking in the sight of that pretty pussy he’s longed to be back inside of since the moment he pulled out. His face is close, so fucking close that he can feel warmth radiate off your core and deepen his flush.

Perhaps this is how he begins his journey of repayment. Ever indebted to you, despite your odd relationship being a mutually agreed upon situation, Toji fears you’ve truly altered him. For the better or worse he isn’t sure yet; all he knows is that you make him feel good. Better than he’s felt in fucking ages. You said he deserves to get spoiled? Well so do you, too.

Toji eats you with erotic vigor, delving into the deepest parts of your cunt with his lascivious tongue. He’ll be the first to admit that he doesn’t possess many skills. He isn’t terribly smart, nor is he gifted with great conversational skills like you. He isn't good at holding a real job. Isn’t very good at expressing himself. Not good at abiding by the law, or staying sober, either. But if ever there was an artistry in which Toji had full confidence he had mastered, it was oral sex.

“Oh, Toji,” you gasped, forcing his face deeper with a hand on the back of his skull. “Right there.”

Toji dug you out, excavating your hole with expertise. One hand slipped up beneath your dress, under your bra, pawing at your breast whilst the other busied itself in his pants. He stroked himself to the heady taste of pussy, fanning your clit with hot puffs of breath. You writhe against his open mouth, hips dancing, hands grabbing.

It’s more enjoyable like this, Toji thinks briefly. To not expect a wad of bills afterward in exchange for his velvet tongue. He eats you for leisure, because he wants to, and because you want him, and no other reason. It’s enough that you both need each other.

Toji groans loosely when you yank his hair, getting off on the way you move his head to your liking. “Suck my clit,” you instruct quietly, and he obliges with upmost obedience, nose nuzzling against the tuft of hair at your pubic bone.

Toji opens his eyes for the first time in a while, then thanks God he did. You look something like a goddess, celestial and righteous in the way your body works against his face. Using him to cure an insatiable desperation, with your lids screwed shut and head tossed back on your shoulders. “Are you gonna cum?” He sits up on his haunches a little taller, a little more alert now to fully experience your orgasm. “Cum in my mouth.”

He begs for it. Begs like a little bitch. Over and over again, mumbling the mantra between rough suctions to your swollen clit. Begging wasn’t like him. His father beat the beggar out of him many years ago, said it was weak to yearn for things so badly. The old man was right, Toji has never felt weaker than he does right now, knelt under the table with his head between your thighs.

“Oh my God.” Your voice is strained thin, each syllable pulled taught. The vice grip on his roots start to sting, follicles ripping from the scalp, but doesn’t tell you to stop. “Toji, fuck you’re so good.”

He’s good.

“You’re so good.”

“Mmn.” He squeezes himself, chokes his dick hard. Toji feels it when you cum. Warmth floods the cavern of his slack mouth, gushing and creamy. You fall silent, stunned by the force of your orgasm he presumes. Toji licks you through your high, guzzling down every drop of wetness that seeps from your spasming slit. It’s hot and gushy and messy; cum dribbles past his lips, collecting in beads that roll down his tensing neck.

Only when you blindly push at his face does Toji part ways with your center, leaning past your trembling hand to nuzzle into your stomach. It’s concave with an ongoing exhale; he nips at your navel. “Breathe.”

“Toji,” you whisper. On the come down, you’re a lot nicer; those needy, grabbing hands of yours now stroked down the tangled mess of his damp shag. He presses a handful of sloppy smooches above your belly button.

The erection trapped in the confines of his pants twitch at the dreadfully angelic drawl of his name. “Good?” His question is gruff and pointless as ever; anyone with eyes could tell you just had the most Earth-shattering orgasm of your life.

Your head lolls forward, rolling down to face him. Fingertips brush his chin, collecting the sticky residuals that dampened his stubble. You take your lower lip in between teeth when you bring those same soaked digits to Toji’s open mouth. He doesn’t resist you. Fingers are welcomed; he unhinges his jaw, baring the same holy tongue that just drove you to Heaven. You wipe cum-ridden fingers against the muscle, and Toji clamps around them in a vacuum-esque suction, looking up at you through dark lashes all the while. Your thumb traces the raised flesh on his upper lip. That ugly, jagged scar.

He catches your wrist when you move to flee his mouth, holding you in place. Sucking on you, touching himself along the way. Lapping between fingers, tonguing the thin web of skin there.

“So good, baby boy.” There’s the praise he craved, the praise he played oblivious to get. You claw deeper, jutting towards the back of his throat, pulling a scratchy gag from the man. What kind of fetish was this? You made everything sexy, even whatever this humiliation ritual was; watching him choke down slippery fingers with fat tears bleeding at his waterline. “You are so beautiful, Toji.”

“—oh en nah,” or no I’m not had there not been a barrier blocking his teeth from touching. Toji knows he’s an aged man, one riddled with scars and wounds and bruises and gauges and what have you. His skin is nowhere near perfect, baring disgusting reminders of what he does—who he is. Beautiful is what he’d call someone like you. Someone calm and serene, humble and kind. You’re a beautiful sight, and you’re also the complete and utter opposite of him.

“You are.” He wanted to be inside you for this. Toji had been daydreaming this scenario over and out in his head over the long haul of the week, going through the motions of his plan to fuck you. He’d give you everything tenfold, a barbaric fucking unlike your first time together. He imagined finally showing you his version of things, bending you over the couch first thing and blowing his load deep into your cunt.

Toji choked again, and a single thick tear fell from his lashes. You whispered sweet prayers, holding his face, wiping his eyes, fucking his mouth with fingers that tasted of your cum. It was a damn mystery how you rendered him so fucking pitiful, to be nutting on his knees into his boxers like this. A damn mystery.

His breaths are ragged when he explodes, hand and cock obscured by the sweatpants that sat low around his hips. Toji doesn’t stop pumping, tugging the shaft with long, hard strokes, wringing himself dry. Dark eyes weld shut, and he collapses against your thigh with a quake of exhaustion. Toji doesn’t know when you withdrew your fingers; the only tell that gave it away was the string of saliva that slapped coldly against his chin in the wake of your removal. He mewls, a graveling sound that sounds as if his voice box had been dragged through a sea of razor blades.

“You alright?”

A flowery hand slithers beneath his damp cheek, and suddenly his heavy head is being lifted. Toji is forced to meet your soft gaze; adoration brims in your eyes, as though you’re proud of him for creaming in his briefs like some flimsy virgin.

“Answer me, please.”

Toji smacks his mouth, preparing for his voice to project broken and fragmented. “I’m fine.” He could do without the pity; you were cautious to a fault. He wasn’t made of glass.

“You’re filthy.”

He grumbles, feigning grumpiness and averting his eyes off to the side. “I just had your pussy in my mouth.”

You bend at the waist, leaning down to meet him for a kiss. Toji melts against you, cradling your face with his semen-stained hand. You don’t seem to mind the wetness. He’s pouting against your mouth, childlike. “I wanted to cum inside you.”

You latch onto his nose, nibbling the point. “Let’s go clean up.” There’s a telling smile etched onto your lips, and your mouth finds his ear. Whispering ever so sensually, “I have a big shower in my bedroom.”

likes and reblogs are appreciated !

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[swimmingruinsdream]

It Was Me I let The Dogs Out T-Shirt

Comfortable, great It Was Me. I Let The Dogs Out. Shirt. For men and women.

[qvrcll]

nsfw, fem reader, possession + biting

when coriolanus snow latches onto you, everything tends to burn. his fingers, his nails, his teeth, his lips - they all have a tendency for a craving when they’re near you.

and when he fucks, he fucks like its not beneath him. he fucks like a reverent and a lunatic, clutching at your sides like you’ll disappear on him like a fog and leave him behind like he has feared all along. claiming skin that he feels is his.

one night, in particular, he’s especially needy: hot all over, hands roaming the expanse of your back and pushing your body tightly against his. if he gave you time to recover from the melt of his kisses, you’d have recognised his heart for your own - thudding like something violent in his chest, able to be felt even with layers of clothing on. but he breathes you in like an tonic he has never felt before. in need of more, always.

“needy much?” you croak, feeling his rough hands catch against your throat as he grasps your cheeks. he intends to pull so you impossibly close to him, that the two of you might melt as one. how romantic.

he hisses when you bite his lip, take it between your stubborn canines and stay, “always. you - ah - know that.”

and it progresses into something bigger - his hands on your hips, nose nudging into your neck. he gets enthusiastic, gets riled up in places which are his forte - when this happens, it’s always his fingers that stretch you out first. one, two, and when you cry out loud, he’s staring at you with something ugly in his eyes.

possession. filthy, and wholly his. his eyes almost shift.

“poor, weeping little cunt is all mine, isn’t it?” he taunts you, voice against your breast as he takes your nipple to his teeth. the friction is lovely, delicious in a way, and you can’t blame the guttural moan that leaves you, or him, when you arch into his body. still, there’s no answer from you, “it’s mine. tell me, i need to hear it. that it’s mine.”

his fingers curl inside of you, the flex of them so nasty and painfully good that you never mean to squeal, but do anyways. he smiles at this. smiles at any twitch, any chance of your body betraying logic and following feeling, and he begins to slow his pace to filter that feeling as punishment.

and when you register this, you panic. your eyes are blown wide, quivering already when he hasn’t even given you a real fuck - “yours - yours! it’s yours, coryo. all - ugh - all… yours.”

his fingers flex, tighten.

“all mine? you sure?”

you can see him against your chest, eyes like that of a snake. glaring and wanting, poison in the air as he takes from you like a dog.

“yours, all yours - coryo, please!”

“shh. i know - that’s all i wanted to hear,” he smiles then, his fingers picking up an addicting pace, “i know, baby, i know… see, feels better doesn’t it?”

you nod, fervent and hot, in need of release. what impending release he has waiting for you. what utter cruelness he puts into his thrusts, his strokes. coriolanus is of much character, and still, he looms above. possesses you fully, like a thing for taking. you can barely see it now, but his eyes go dark with the lust of it.

and when he is fully sheathed inside, after much patience, he’s delirious. much more than before. you know this, he knows this, because his hips snap against yours so much more cruelly, faster and harder than anything else he’s given you in this room.

“coryo - oh god,” you cry, circling your legs against his hips, and the proximity it brings makes the two of you mewl against one another. when he thrusts again, its fire taking a lick at fire, and with filthiness forming inside of him, he takes to something more deranged. misplaced.

“you belong to me.”

you nod, hazy. not understanding to the best of your capabilities.

“you understand, don’t you? you’re smart, aren’t you? - ah,” he moans, and where he doesn’t, he bites the soft flesh of your neck until it grows tender with pain, “this,”

he picks a disgusting pace on your clit, fingers slipping,

“is all mine.”

the force of your orgasm isn’t superficial. it’s wrenched out from the deepest parts of you. when you lose consciousness, coriolanus slaps two fingers against your cheeks, chuckling when you blink back up blearily.

perhaps, so blearily that you don’t properly make out the sight of him popping two silver-stained fingers in his mouth, your spent too sweet for him to give up so easily. how delicious you taste, he marvels, the thought of it being all his more thrilling than for just one round.

(requests for snow / tbosas are open!)

© 2023 qvrcll. do not repost any of my works on any platform.

[anantaru]

I want blade to suck on my tits </3

cw. tit play, skilled blade teasing you, fem! reader

"hmm my love.. you should relax,"

as if on cue, blade kisses along the quivering sillhouette of your breasts before scattering one flaming and fervid kiss on top of one erected nipple— without delay noticing the slight squirm you expelled or how you trapped your bottom lip between your teeth to conceal a whimper.

blade's eyes flash approvingly upward when he works his mouth enthusiastically on one breast while the other was hidden underneath his large palm— his quick, lecherous tongue glossing across your areola before sending more delicate thrills into your chest that you desperately began to gasp for oxygen.

"blade— fuck, careful your teeth!" you sob and sound so overflowing with need, your hands feverishly prancing on his defined back as you lean weakly against his head, his mouth suddenly slipping away from your chest before he greedily squeezes your breasts together, his cock throbbing thickly against his trousers when he teases your nipples with the tip of his wet muscle, lapping at both of them at the same time.

you dig your heels hard into the mattress when he blows cold air on the erected and wet flesh being squeezed tight against each other, "i'm always careful," he growls back, smudged wet lips smoothening over your sensitive tits.

"is this turning you on?" blade whispers the question against your saliva stricken chest, a glowing smirk exposing his pearly white canines to you before he skillfully grazed them over your nipples with a grin, the sound of your heart pounding in your chest answering his sentence in one go.

"yes… ‘so much," you mewl out weakly, wincing as your trembling body aches into his motion, and blade swore he felt you flinch beneath the next kiss he placed on your chest, the depth of his echoing grumbles into your skin passing from one nerve to the next until hitting your wet sex, your hips rolling up into his thigh as the stellaron hunter lead you to an endless maze of almost unreachable pleasure.

©2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[http-paprika]

noise / simon “ghost” riley

dad!ghost / pairing simon “ghost” riley x wife!reader / wc 504 / warnings none, pure fluff

summery raising a baby is completely different than anything else simon has done. but a new skill she learns leaves him completely surprised.

note this is what I wrote for the result of the poll, it’s not very long, I know. I just had to write this little story, it was too cute to pass up. maybe I’ll add more dad!ghost one-shots in the future.

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The baby smacks against his chest, babbling loudly as he carries her through the house, trying to pass the time as his wife enjoys a moment of solitude in the shower after Simon got home from work.

Having a baby was still such a strange new chapter in Simon’s life, and the seven months since her birth, it had been a wild ride. Between the joys of watching her grow and learn, to the endless nights of her crying and the struggle of Simon learning how to actually be a good father for her. But the moments he got to spend with her alone, when she wasn’t screaming her lungs off, had become a favorite part of his day. Watching her smile, listening to her little laughs, was one of the things that he always looked forward to when he returned home from a long day.

“Oh really? And why’s that?” He chuckles, pretending to understand his infant daughter as she tries to converse with him. Moving through the house, he walks her out into the cool autumn air where their dog ran up to greet them.

“Be careful.” Simon tells her as she turns, leaning against his arms to try and reach the happy, retired military dog, Bandit, who barks up at her. Slowly, he crouches down on level with the canine who continues to enthusiastically bark and paw at them.

“Gentle.” He says to her as she reaches out, taking a fistful of the dog’s fur. “Gentle, lovie. Gentle. Just like that”

Simon takes her tiny little hand in his own, showing her how to pet the dog. Eventually, he drops his hand allowing the baby to reach out on her own autonomy and pat at Bandit’s muzzle.

She makes a noise that startles him, his eyes widening as Simon realizes the baby is attempting to mimic the dog as it yips back at her. It comes out a babbled mess, but there’s no mistaking the imitation and the excited nature of the baby everytime the dog responds back to her.

“There you two are, I was wondering where you’d disappeared to.” His wife steps out onto the patio, a startled look on her face as Simon looks up at her, exasperated. “What’s wrong?”

“She’s barking.”

“What?” She furrows her brow, confused by his statement and folding her arms looking down at him and the baby. “What are you talking about, Simon?”

“Just— listen. Bandit, speak.” He commands the dog, who obliges and barks, quickly followed by the daughter who attempts to bark back, giggling and kicking her feet afterward. “She’s imitating the dog.”

Almost as if to prove his point to her mother, the baby does it again, this time smiling up at her mother while doing it. The two adults just stare down at the baby who’s proud of the new noise she’s managed to make.

“She’s never gonna stop, is she?” Simon finally asks his wife, the realization creeping over him, his face contorting in horror.

“No, she’s not.”

[ciy0]

☆*:.｡.FANCALL.｡.:*☆

Summary - Like many idols Mingyu dreaded fancalls, well that was until you were on the other side.

Word Count - 2.7k

Content Warnings - 18+ Slight Sexual Language [2 be safe], Fluff, Shy/Cute! Y/n, Love At First Sight?, Sneaky! Mingyu, The Sparks Are Flying, Mingyu thinks Y/n is Adorable, Slight Innapropriate Dynamic with Fan & Idol, NDA Mentioned, Short Hair!Mingyu Appreciation, Hoshi Cameo, Mingyu gets Bricked Up lol, Shameless Flirting

a/n - this is the least dark thing i’ve written so far and it still got a lil something something but it’s very cute and short hair mingyu is indeed my favorite

☆*:.｡. .｡.:*☆

Mingyu believed he had the coolest job in the world. Honestly, being able to make music with his twelve best friends and travel the world was something out of a storybook. And his mother ingrained in him from a young age to always be grateful for the wonderful opportunities presented to him throughout his life. But with all the positives that came with being a successful and attractive idol there were many negatives that he tried his best to take in stride. Stalkers, calls from saesangs all throughout the night, rude staff, endless schedules, extreme diets and that was just to name a few. But one took the cake out of all of them—fancalls.

Don’t get him wrong, he loved meeting carats more than anything in the world; accepting their sweet comments while trying to make their experience worth while in the short time allotted. Most were so kind, humorous and creative, it was always so fascinating getting to see how many different types of people Seventeen’s music reached even after all this time. But just like the duality of life there were fancalls that went so horribly it unfortunately made him dread doing them at all. Whether it went from brazen fans demanding him to strip, asking him uncomfortable questions, to hurling insults at him for not remembering them from a fan meet over 3 years ago. It really could be so draining, not knowing what type of person would be on the other side of the call but he had to do it—and with a smile.

“Bye~ love youuu,” He waved as he ended the facetime with a fan from Australia. It wasn’t one of the worst ones but the constant ‘Oppa Will you marry me please?’ question was starting to get on his nerves, the forced cute tone just making it worse. Expertly he kept swerving around the question but she was quite persistent. The timer for the call was his saving grace as he threw his head back in a deep groan no longer having to deal with the irritating fan. ‘Just one more’ he thought. One more then he could call it a night and go to sleep. He took a deep breathe just in time to prepare himself to greet the next fan.

“Hello-“ He tilted to look back down at the phone screen to check the name and—Oh? Well for starters what a pretty thing you were. “Hello…Y/n?” Voice raising at the end, checking his pronunciation.

You smiled brightly at him trying to hide the little squeak you made before nodding and greeting him back enthusiastically, “Oh my gosh, Mingyu hi!”

Many fans somehow found ways to constantly win the fancalls or fanmeets but he was confident that he’d never seen you at even a concert. With a face like that even with his bad memory he’d be sure to remember. Your face already enough to give him the boost of energy he so desperately needed.

He found himself reflecting your sweet smile at your excitement, “Is this your first fancall?”

You bit your lip softly before nodding, “Y-yeah, I’m sorry i’m just so overwhelmed right now. I’ve been a fan for so many years.” You expressed earnestly.

He couldn’t stop his tongue from lightly grazing against the bottom of his canines as he watched your plush lips. “Yeah?,” He gazed back up at your eyes, “ I’m honored, thank you for your continuous love and support…Who’s your favorite?” He asked cheekily.

You laughed in your hand at that, “You of course.” you lowered your hand as you felt a bit more comfortable to express yourself, remembering the short time for the calls despite all you wanted to say, “I had always been into kpop but Seventeen was always the most special group to me. Your music reminds me of youth and freedom and the love you all have for each other warms my heart. Watching you guys grow and flourish literally is my pick me up in life. I ended up falling for your charms seeing you take care of your members, i love your big heart! I was lucky enough to win this fancall so I just wanted to say this all from the bottom of my heart. Also your short hair is beautiful!” You ended passionately hoping you properly conveyed your emotions. You had been practicing this for over a week.

He couldn’t help the dazed smile that took over his features. Your words technically weren’t anything new. He had heard some variation in the hundreds of calls up to this point but something about yours was just different. The back of his neck slowly warming at the thought of little ole you watching over Seventeen (him) this whole time.

He thanked you sincerely again as he sneakily snuck his hand across the table to turn off the impending timer—he wanted more time with you. Hopefully you couldn’t see the little imaginary devil horns adorning his head at his little scheme.

“ Where do you live?” He asked pointedly. He watched your brows slightly raise at the sudden inquiry,” Your window—,” He pointed behind you,” It looks about the same time of day as it is for me… are you close by Korea?”

He knew at this point things were slowly heading down a road that was hardly appropriate to engage in with a sweet little fan like yourself but he felt the risk was worth. It wasn’t everyday he got to meet a girl as enthralling as you. I mean how could he not, those beautiful eyes taking him in like that, your sincere words and admiration—he may be an idol but he was still just a man at the end of the day. A weak man.

“O-oh” You looked back at your window before turning around, “Well right now, I’m actually in Korea—like as we speak. I’m here for work. I think it’s been about two weeks already…”

Korea you say? The next words slipped out before he could even catch himself, too busy examining your features. “Modeling?” As if it was a no-brainer.

You threw your head back in laughter at that but he didn’t get what was so funny. Seeing that he was expectantly waiting for an answer you wiped your stray tear and responded.

“No, no model over here but i’m working on a TV production set for a company is Seoul”

Oh? You’re in Seoul too. He’s in Seoul…and he doesn’t believe in coincidences. Don’t you think—things are aligning too perfectly?

“Such a stunning face like that behind the camera,” He whines playfully, “It’s a crime!”

His face lights up at your bashful giggle at his compliment, it made him feel on top of the world. Even though this was your fancall he just needed to know more, and flatter you more, hoping you wouldn’t catch on that the timer would’ve gone off minutes ago. Afraid that piece of information would scare you off.

“Your boyfriend back home must be missing you right now then, “ he continued shamelessly, eyes hanging low waiting for your reply.

Your eyes shifted feeling a little hot under his unwavering gaze, “It’s okay, I d-don’t have one anyways” You twiddled your thumbs.

“Yeah? You don’t need one anyways though, right? Cause I’m your favorite, “ He jokingly stated.

It took you a beat before you caught the teasing joke, not confirming nor denying. Mingyu often playfully teasing fans for looking at other men wasn’t anything new. But in those videos he’d be sporting his signature pout but right now he was completely fixated on you, mouth slightly ajar in wonder. You felt your chest get hot briefly feeling so small in the presence of a cunning wolf. You reflexively went to check the time on your phone—

“Right, Y/n?” Your breathe caught hearing your name come from his lips for the second time that day. You forgot your name was even displayed on the screen let alone expecting to hear it again, especially like that.

Mingyu wanted an answer, and he wanted you to stop checking the time on your damn phone. His eyes like a puppy’s reading “pay attention to me”.

“Of course Mingyu,” you conceded demurely, forgetting your train of thought. “You’re the golden standard honestly. There’s a inside joke amongst Carats that God made you as an apology for men haha and i can’t help but think there must be some truth to that” You said matter of factly knowing how much he loved when fans stroked his ego and just how true it was. The handsome smile you received from that was damn near blinding but as a fan it was a dream to make your idol happy and tell him the truths about himself that he deserved to hear. He was handsome, kind, talented and all of the above.

You were so cute—fuck. He had been privy to that little joke a couple months back, constantly being heralded for all his green flags he had as a potential boyfriend or husband but he couldn’t help but feel a bit guilty at hearing them from you. Because he knew he was failing miserably at stopping the nasty thoughts of him doing naughty things to the beautiful Carat he had the pleasure of meeting at that moment.

“Earlier” He started softling shaking his head out of those images,” You said you liked my short hair— which one do you like most? If you had to choose, Long or short?” He didn’t want to come off sleazy with the constant flirting and possibly make you uncomfortable so he went back to earlier in the conversation to lighten the tension. Maybe it’d help with tightness currently in his sweatpants.

He expected you to struggle before ultimately landing on long hair like everyone else would answer but your quick and confident reply of “Short” caught him off guard.

He ran a hand through his cut locks subconsciously. You were the first to say that. He liked his short hair too but it seemed like most of fans didn’t and made sure to let him know. He knew they didn’t mean harm by it but your heartfelt validation made his ears redden against his tan skin.

“Really?” His eyebrows raised before grinning childishly, “You’re not just saying that?”

You mirrored his grin, “Your long hair fits you very well but short really is my favorite. Hmm,” You tapped your chin in thought, “ You look more pretty and soft with long hair but God you look so manly and sexy with it short like a firefighter. And with your big arms and-”

You glanced back down absentmindedly just to see his shocked expression before covering your face up in embarrassment. You did not mean to say all of that out loud, worried you might’ve made him uncomfortable with your involuntary tangent.

“And?” He leaned forward head in hands tilted teasingly, “Big arms and what Y/n?”

You peeked through your fingers, “Well you know, y-you take good care of yourself and it shows.” You promptly closed your fingers again.

He chuckled at your cute antics, heart squeezing painfully, wishing he was there to pry your hands from your pretty face and get all up in your bubble.

“So you like manly looking men huh?, “ He leans back naturally spreading his legs under the table—though you couldn’t see, “I’ll keep that in mind.” For some reason when you talked about his body like that it didn’t make him feel awkward or objectified like in the past with other fans. Quite the opposite, it excited him. Were you thinking dirty thoughts about him too? God he wanted to hear them.

A ring from your side of the call rung out causing you to curse lightly before looking at him again, previous shyness leaving. You ordered food almost 20 minutes ago?! You hadn’t realized the time flew so fast talking to Mingyu. But why didn’t the timer go off? Before you could question him the restless delivery driver banged on your door.

“Mingyu it was so nice finally meeting you,” You started to get up, your smooth thigh coming into focus causing him to bite his lip and discreetly shift his leg to hide his erection, “My foods at the door so I have to go-“

“No don’t goooo,” he pouted ,” I’ll wait right here so go and quickly bring it back yeah?” He gave you his best pleading eyes, he didn’t want the call to end, at least not yet.

You pulled down your lounging dress slightly before nodding and swiftly heading off the screen, a slight “coming!” heard in the background.

He tapped away on his phone patiently waiting for you to return until he heard a knock on his door. Turning back he saw Hoshi’s head pop out.

“Bro you’re still not done?” Hoshi glanced around the room, “Everyone’s heading home soon, you need to wrap it up before management notices”

Mingyu held his hands in a begging motion, “Hyung distract them for a bit, please i’ll be quick” he pleaded.

Hoshi raised an eyebrow in question but left with a huff of ‘you owe me’ before closing the door. With a ‘hehe’ Mingyu turned around just in time for you to settle back down with your takeout in hand.

“Ooo whatd you get Y/n?” He really liked the way your name sounded on his lips.

You looked up at the sound of your name again and smiled as you took out the containers, “I got some Tteokkbokki, dumplings, kimchi of course and look,” you held up your last dish, “ The place by my apartment makes a salmon katsudon and its-“ You moan dramatically just at the thought (causing him to flinch in his pants),” It’s to die for.”

“Wahh that looks so good…” he trailed off watching your cheeks chub as you were already digging into your food, he just wanted to reach over and pinch them. You barely even noticed as he watched you quietly cause you were in your own world, obviously underestimating how hungry you were. Once you realized you were quite literally stuffing your face in front of Mingyu you haphazardly swallowed what was left in your mouth ready to apologize but when you looked up he was just gazing at you fondly.

“Is there something on my face?” You wondered out loud, putting your container down.

“You just look so cute enjoying your food. I’ll have to try that place soon” He tugged on his ear nervously, “ Hey Y/n?”

You looked back at him with wide eyes,” Hmm?”

“I really have to go soon,” He began, eyes slightly saddening at that fact,” But Seventeen is having a fan meet in Seoul next week…. If i send you some tickets through your company would you come?” He would’ve liked to give them to you personally but that might be a little to forward for now.

Your mouth dropped at that, never thinking such an outcome would come from this fancall. Really all you wanted was to convey your appreciation to the group. You nodded dumbly before giving him your companies details upon his request still slightly lost that this was all happening.

He was elated you accepted making sure to store that information safely so he could send the tickets later. “I really hope to see you then Y/n-“ he heard footsteps getting close to his room signally him he really had to let go of you for now, “I’ve taken too much of your time, enjoy your food and-“

He hesitated ending the call as he always did. Normally an easy ‘love you~’ was his go-to but for some reason it felt so intimate relaying it to you. “Thank you for loving seventeen and… I love you~” He blew a kiss, his eyes never straying from yours despite the heat in his cheeks.

You gasped quietly at his ending words. You knew he always told his fans that but right then you didn’t feel like he was telling you that as just an idol to supporter.

“Love you too Mingyu, take care of yourself Okay?”

The steps were getting louder so he initiated his melancholic goodbye before you reciprocated with a breathless one of your own; ultimately ending the call.

Just in time he got up as a staff member entered the room. Acting none the wiser Mingyu moved passed them with a bow saying he was heading home before any questions could be asked. He really needed to take care of his problem downstairs anyways.

While in the car on the way home he sent a message to his manager and gave your workplaces information to send some tickets for you and your coworkers, not to draw any unnecessary attention to you specifically . His manager didn’t question the sudden gift exchange which he was thankful for, only asking if there was anything else needed. Mingyu typed out a ‘nope hyung thanks’ in return until he envisioned that gorgeous smile of yours but this time it was within arms reach.

‘Hyung, can you get an NDA ready by next week too?’

NDA - non disclosure agreement, can be used for various things but in this case many celebrities have the people they keep close to them or want to start a relationship with sign one to protect their privacy pls comment it inspires me (°▽°)

[wellie27]

Coffee And Dog Perfect Combo T-shirt

Perfect for coffee lovers and pet enthusiasts alike, whether you’re a dog lover looking for the perfect gift or a coffee enthusiast seeking a unique addition to your wardrobe