#fuck fuck

[muntitled]

In the wise words of Tiffany Pollard

Ik you seriously aren’t taking request but I’m dying for a blaise fic abt anything smutty please please write it (sorry if this is annoying)

Gt my inspo from this post by @pizzaapeteer

Keep Talking

Blaise Zabini x F!Reader

Warnings: unprotected sex, cussing, oral(male receiving)

18+ Minors DNI!

Blaise was laying down on his bed with you kneeling beside him, telling him about your day. He was always a great listener, just letting you talk his ear off. He loves the gossip and you two normally exchange anything you guys hear about.

Today, though, he was very worked up and feeling very impatient. He still let you talk, but he guided your hand to palm him through his pants as you spoke, letting out small ‘hmm’s and ‘uh-huh’s as he tried to listen to you.

The little bit of patience he had was wearing down and he pulled his pants and underwear down a bit to free his cock. He hissed slightly when you wrapped your hand around it and started slowly jerking him off.

“So then Pansy and I left the courtyard and came to the common room to get away from those assholes.” You said.

“Uh huh.” He muttered, watching your hand working his dick. “They were major assholes.”

“Right? I could not believe they did that.” You shake your head.

“Yeah. Unbelievable. Fuck.” He leaned his head back for a moment before lifting it back up and reaching his hand to the back of your head to guide you to his cock. “Use that pretty mouth on my dick, ma.”

You let him grab your hair, guiding your head up and down.

“Keep talking. I know that wasn’t all you wanted to say.” He groaned.

You tried speaking, only managing to moan and gag around him.

“Fucking hell. And then what?” He said between moans, your moans around his cock only adding to the pleasure.

He finally pulled your mouth off of him, letting you breathe. “-and it was the dumbest thing he ever said in class. I couldn’t believe he said that.” You continued after getting a breath of air.

“Who?”

“Snape.”

“He says a lot of dumb things.” Blaise said as he pushed your head back down. “Get it all wet for me, baby. You’re gonna ride me.”

You gave him a muffled response around his cock again, only making him groan before pulling you back up.

“Come and ride me.” He said as he pulled you closer, pulling your panties down your thighs. You kicked them off the rest of the way before moving to straddle him. You lifted up and guided him through your folds, just teasing him. “Please, ma, you’re killing me here.” You gave him a cheeky smile before sinking down on him, moaning at the stretch.

“Fuck.” You mutter as you bottom out.

“All it takes to shut you up is getting you on my cock, huh?” Blaise teased as his hands roamed over your sides before making their way up to your breasts.

“Shut up.” You hissed as you started rocking your hips.

“Is that all that happened today? No more stories?” He smiled up at you, playing with your nipples.

“I can tell you about what my boyfriend did to me today.” You retorted as his hands came to your hips to help guide you.

“Oh, yeah? What did he do?”

“I was in the middle of telling him about my day-shit.” You moaned, eyes rolling back briefly when his cock hit a sensitive spot inside you.

“And?”

“He pulled his dick out and had me suck his dick before I could even finish telling him about my day.” You said, panting as your hands came to his chest to steady yourself.

“What a dick.” He chuckled before starting to thrust up into you.

“Uh huh.” It was all you could manage between moans as you tried to meet his thrusts, feeling him hit deeper inside you.

He pulled your head down to kiss you hungrily, desperately chasing both your highs when he heard your sweet moans getting higher and more broken. He broke the kiss after a moment.

“Maybe he can make it up to you by making you cum, hm?” He asked against your lips.

You nodded, small ‘please’s escaping your mouth like a prayer as you feel so close to the edge.

“You’re gonna be the death of me.” He muttered as he heard your pleas. “Come on my cock, ma. I got you.”

You felt the coil snap as you came, crying out his name, your pussy clenching him desperately. You orgasm didn’t even finish before he was cumming, filling your pussy with his cum as he rode out both of your highs, stopping when your moans turned into whines. His arms wrapped around you as you both caught your breath, kissing your face gently.

“You need to tell me that Snape story again.” He muttered softly.

“You lost your chance.”

Taglist:

@jeannie-beannie @yourenogoodforme @mixvchelle @helendeath @evaslytherpuff

@soaked4abby @hpnsfwaddict @mayamonroem @brittney-121 @leovaldezsbitch

@dracoslovergirl @littlemadamred @mattheoriddlesbitch @acornacreacure @opheliamalfoy236

@demieyesore @akira1246 @queenshu @prettypinkprincess15 @starryslytherin0

@jolly4holly @st0n3dbarbi3

Let me know if you wanna be added!

[muxas-world2]

Help the way hi is holding onto Marc like bae nobady is taking him away from you 😭 cd

[ilovemesomevincentprice]

Vincent Price as Clifford Pyncheon -

House of the Seven Gables (1940) dir. Joe May

[madame-mongoose]

no you know what fuck it goodnight

[watchyourbuck]

I have a very niche thought HOLD ON you know when Buck gets crushed by the truck okay then they throw him a surprise welcome party and everyone screams and then he’s hugging Eddie ??? Okay the way Eddie holds Buck by the wAIst with his ENTIRE HAND fuck fuck fuck this is what fuels fanfiction

[hydrus101]

I constantly think about what Arthur’s internal dialogue might’ve been around Oscar’s pledge, how conflicted and wary about it he might’ve been.

When John describes Oscar after his arm comes off and says he’s served his purpose, Arthur can’t even echo him like he usually does. Can’t even finish his sentence and say “he did serve his pur-“ because he chokes up near the end. He can’t say it. Can’t fathom it. Whether it’s from the guilt of his arm or the weight of his sobriety, the idea of being someone’s purpose weighs on him so heavily. Every time Oscar tried to tell him that he is, he shut it down. Quickly. Harshly. Like he didn’t want to think about it. Didn’t want to consider it.

Do you ever think of why? Was it his independence? That he simply balked at the concept of needing anyone else because his self-sufficiency streak was just that strong? Maybe his self-loathing just ran that deep? That he couldn’t conceptualize the idea of someone wanting to help him, not out of trickery or deception or necessity, but because they wanted to, after so long of being hunted? That they wanted to help a man like him? A murderer, on seven counts? Even after knowing what sins he’d committed?

Then, was it the religious aspect? Arthur just rejects faith of that sort at its base level (he was taught to know his saints; he doesn’t pray anymore) and that Oscar is, by trade, a priest, but I don’t think it’s just that. It goes deeper. It must.

Oscar viewed him as divine. His sign from God. The one who pulled him from bedrock. The man he chose, guided by a higher power, to follow into the ends of time and space (as far as he is mentally, physically, and spiritually able) and beyond. His purpose.

Do you think some part of Arthur was scared of that? Of someone seeing him as something good? Something worthy? To be elevated to that level of divinity, to be held equivocal to another man’s God? The being who’s almighty will (these things happen for a reason)(god has a plan)(do you want to see your wife and child again?) had planned and accounted and orchestrated for the death of his only daughter? Do you think that scares him? Do you think it makes him feel guilty? Do you think, in the spaces between running from hunters and pursuing goals and traveling through whatever realm he goes to next, he’ll stop and wonder if he’s cost another man his faith? I do. I do a lot, actually.

[archiewantsheetmetal]

oh medic tf2 we really in it now

[grey-and-green]

I can feel it happening again. It’s creeping back up. I’ve been distant for months. But then I had one single stable mental health day and thought “ah, I am safe to go back to my hyperfixation, perhaps I shall open Tumblr”.

I think I may now be past the point of no return and my neglected Kindle is already on charge.

Fuck.

This is gonna hurt.

[tcrturedreeves]

I started watching Swedish Dicks.

[mrsfitzgerald]

27.05.23. video: @miscreantmelon 💗

[lizard-speed]

… the way Havers’s hands linger on the Captain’s even after he’s died….. he’s probably also waited just as long for a reunion and now that he’s finally seen him the Captain dies at his feet……. he can’t bear to let go

[poursomesunaonme]

GODDDDDD IM FUCKING WRITHING CLAWING AT THE SHEETS I WANNA RIDE HIS FACE LIKE ITS A RODEO BULL FUCKKKK FUCK FUCK FUCKKKKKKK

[notsofriendlyfriendlyreminder]

scott left. he left without saying anything. he left mike in italy. he didn't say anything.

[ilovemesomevincentprice]

Vincent Price //

Las Vegas Story (1952)

[chrollogy]

atsumu is definitely a greedy man.

it's how he pushed himself into the professional athlete he is, always demanding more of not only himself but from those around him. the difference with him though, is that his greed is a greed that stems from love.

after all, that's what atsumu embodies: love in its purest form. it's his justification for why he's so drawn to you, why everything you do to him has him acting this irrationally, just for you to glance in his direction. some might call him pathetic, but he likes to think of it as an unwavering devotion. and he's sure you'd agree too.

the glittery gold and black jersey only cements his certainty. he could spend a lifetime blowing his load to the image of you bent over all pretty for him, your pussy sucking his thick cock in like your life depends on it, the last name "miya" placed squarely on your back. there's something about seeing the fabric bounce with each one of his thrusts that makes him want to carve a deeper place into your heart, like his jersey on you is proof that you're his.

"fuck, you're so tight, babe. you're gonna make me cum if you keep tightening up around me like that... fuck, d'you like that? like it when i hit it from behind?" he slurs, his vision already hazy with pleasure. he doesn't want to waste even a second looking away from you. his hands push up against the hem of the big jersey, but he makes sure not to crumple up his name as his big palms play with tits, gripping at your body and trying to press up as much of himself as he can against you.

god, you feel so small against him. it's like his jersey's threatening to eat your body up whole, and it makes his cock twitch dangerously inside of you. you're so good to him, too good to him, and instead of satiating him, it only fuels him more. he wants every part of you, the good and the ugly, the moral and the immoral, the presentable and the hideous. the jersey sporting his name clinging to your skin is just a physical marking of that.

atsumu is definitely a greedy man.

😁 NONNIE MY LOVELY NONNIE I AM VERY MUCH NORMAL ABOUT THIS YES THANK YOU :D !