#his hair was crazy but goddamn

[smartichokes]

just discovered adam goldberg. oh my god. oh my GOD oh my god. holy shit dude oh my god

[ilonacho]

PLEASE LOOK AT THIS BEAUTIFUL COMMISSION MY DEAR FRIEND GOT FOR ME FOR MY BIRTHDAY I’M LOSING MY MIND!!!😭🥺💚💘 THANK YOU CADENCE I LOVE YOU AND THANK YOU @vampireflowerarts IT’S BEAUTIFUL I LOVE IT SO MUCH😭♥️

[blubary]

I decided to redraw one of my lhtober drawings from, of course, October. It was for the prompt, “Coffee.” I really liked my idea for it, just not how it turned out. To be fair, I only don't like it because it's old now and I don't draw like that anymore lol. Anywho, I do however love how the new one turned out an dim really happy about my improvement.

[crownspeaksblog]

Twice ed and stede kissed in season 2 (so far) and both times stede put his hand on/through eds hair! Do you think stede would think about their kiss from season 1 and regret not putting his hands on ed to keep him close??! Do you think he spent all this time before reuniting with ed thinking about kissing him again, thinking about putting his hand through eds hair to find out what his hair feels like??!! How long do you think he's been wanting to touch eds hair and run his hand through it?!!!! Do we think that stede undid eds hair for him while they're making out against the wall before they had sex??!!!! Huhh?? I need answers!

[livingdeadvamp]

Please don't make me get a job 😭😭

[yanderedrabbles]

Cheat on me please

How to safely rid yourself of a yandere

There's no easy way to get rid of him. He's too obsessive. Too controlling. Too bloody single minded.

You tried talking through it and he just scoffed and said you were being silly. That you were just too hormonal and would calm down in a few days.

You tried going no contact and he showed up at your door. Hammered at it until the neighbours called the cops and they dragged him away.

You tried being nice about it and all he did was grab your wrist so hard it bruised. His eyes like chips of stone when he said he didn't want to hear it.

You weren't breaking up with him. You had no reason to.

And the worst part? He was right. You don't have a reason.

On paper, he's the perfect man. Attentive. Generous. Handsome. He buys you gifts, he lavishes you with attention, he's funny and charming around your friends.

And he scares you.

Not because of anything he's done. (Perfect guy, remember?) But some instinct deep inside you tells you to be careful around him.

This one's a predator, he's got claws and fangs, he'll fill you with venom and never let go, some ancient part of you insists.

But try explaining that to him. He's so mindlessly logical. He's not going to leave you because of a silly gut feeling. Come on baby, what sort of shitty boyfriend would do that?

And that's why you're down to half thought out, borderline silly plans to get rid of him. Get your hot friend to sleep with him. Catch them in the act. Throw a tantrum and finally get to break up with him.

You can't try and excuse cheating. It's abhorrent. And his logical side will surely see that, right?

One little hitch though. He's actually loyal to a fault.

Part of you finds it hard to believe. Is he really turning down your absolute bombshell of a friend? The girl all your exes were just a bit in love with?

Maybe he's just being cautious. Maybe he isn't lonely and needy enough to risk it.

So you up the stakes. Decide to avoid fucking him as much as possible. And oh boy, does it drive him crazy. He gets irritable and needy and somehow even more horny the longer your dry spell lasts.

And you know that you almost have him. He's just a man, no matter how logical he pretends to be.

You pick a fight over nothing. Blow it all out of proportion and storm out to stay with your parents for a while.

Piss him off just enough that a revenge fuck seems like a great idea.

He ends up drinking at a shitty dive bar and oh what a coincidence, your gorgeous seductress friend just happens to turn up. The last text she sends you makes it seem like she's finally hooked him and you hurry over to her apartment, feeling just a little giddy. Your plan actually worked! You feel like a goddamn genius.

And sure enough, his car is parked at her front door.

For a second, you feel a little hurt. Yes, this is the outcome you wanted. Yes, you deliberately manipulated him to get to this point. But it still feels like betrayal.

When you make it to her door, it's oddly silent for a supposed drunken hookup. But you're too geared up to notice it.

She left her door unlocked like you agreed and you tiptoe inside, your heart going a mile a minute. Her bedroom door is cracked just a little and a shaft of light cuts through the dark of the hallway.

You swing the door open with a crash, getting to ready to cuss him out.

And you freeze.

There's no guilty couple leaping away from each other, no smell of sweat and cum, no illicit rendezvous.

Instead your friend is tied to a chair, her mouth taped shut with silvery duct tape and her mascara running in black streaks down her cheeks. Her eyes lock onto yours and she tries to scream something through the tape.

The door clicks shut behind you.

You turn slowly. Like putting it off will make the situation less horrible, less like a dissociative dream.

Your boyfriend looks ragged. His eyes are blood shot and his hair is an unruly mess.

But the worst part is the way he smiles at you. Paternal, almost. Like he's caught you doing something naughty but he's willing to overlook it.

"Come on baby, you didn't think I'd actually cheat on you, did ya?"

His voice is condescending, but under the surface you can hear a cold, terrifying anger.

You swallow. Those same instincts that warned you about him are screaming now.

"What the hell is going on?" You demand, trying to sound angry instead of just afraid.

He steps toward you and it takes everything in you to not step away. He picks up a piece of your hair and rubs it between his fingers. Proprietary, possessive.

"What's going on? You should know babe. You're the one who tried to set me up... As though that skank over there ever stood a chance."

He tsks. "I knew something was wrong the second you stopped sleeping with me."

He leans forward and whispers in your ear, his breath ghosting across your neck.

"I fuck you too good for you to give it up so easy."

You jerk away from him, your eyes burning like you're about to cry. How did this go so wrong?

"Are you insane? Untie her right now! What the fuck is wrong with you?!"

He backhands you right across the face.

He's never hit you before and the shock is almost worse than the pain. You stumble, clutching your cheek. Your face feels numb at first and then a sharp, fiery pain blooms across your cheek.

He grabs your collar and shoves you toward the bed.

"Oh baby, you're lucky I love you." His bared teeth catch the light and he looks more wolf than man.

The edge of the mattress digs into your thighs and you fall backward. You're still reeling and he has you pinned under him before you can find the strength to scramble away.

"Thought about killing her, y'know. What kind of whore goes after her best friend's man? You deserve better than that."

His grip is unyielding. A part of you always knew he was strong, but until now you didn't realise how big the gap between you actually was. His knee is between your legs and he brings it up to press against your crotch.

"But then a light bulb must have went off. And I decided to see how things played out."

He laughs and there's nothing warm or welcoming in it at all.

"All I had to do was squeeze her throat a little and..." He grabs your throat and thightens his grip until you see stars. "And she was just fallin' all over herself to tell me about your little plan."

He let's go and pats your cheek with rough little smacks. "It was cute, baby. Really was. But fucking stupid."

He leans down and kisses you. His lips are rough and he bites your bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. The metallic tang of it makes you gag.

Your instincts were right. He's dangerous and you never should have tempted this monstrous part of him.

He tastes like cheap whiskey and you struggle to pull away. Your chest heaves and no matter how you buck and twist under him, he still keeps you pinned.

When he pulls away, something in your expression must please him because he hums and tilts your chin up. "But it's okay baby. We'll work through this."

He reaches down and tugs at your belt. "And I know exactly where to start."

[peachsukii]

In an attempt to swing back into writing...

For softie Sunday, I'm thinking about Bakugo and reader dating casually in their mid 20s - they both have been through past relationship bullshit and are hoping that this time, it would be different with one another.

It's been a few months, nothing crazy, but he's been working nonstop. Like, three to four days of back to back rescues, emergencies, and normal patrols that have him exhausted beyond belief. You two haven't had a lot of time to spend together recently, and he hates it. Running out the door in the middle of dinner dates or movie nights at your apartment, it ate away at him that his relationship was taking a backseat in his life. That’s how his last one ended, and he was goddamn determined to not let it happen again.

You had tried to tell him to go home and rest, but his stubborn nature kicks in and refuses. He tells you he'll be at your place by seven and that he'll just shower at your place to save time. Bakugo arrives at your apartment and the exhaustion is evident in his demeanor. He greets you with a gruff "hey" before coming inside, pressing a quick kiss to your temple before unloading all of his stuff to the floor. Your apartment is cozy as always, feeling like a second home to him in such a short amount of time. As you ask him about his day, he just grumbles something under his breath and shakes his head. “Be done in 15. Go pick a movie.”

Bakugo’s walking down the hall to your bathroom with his bag over his shoulder, and the way his body looks too heavy for him weighs on your heart. He works so hard, and yet, refuses to have anyone help him in return. It’s a bit impulsive, but you follow behind him. He hears your footsteps and shoots a glance over his shoulder at you.

“What’re ya doin’?” He asks curiously.

You take another step toward him and smile, a hand resting on his back. “Let me help you.”

He’s too tired to protest, to sleep deprived to use any of his default defensive mechanisms to shoo you away. He thinks for a second and sighs. “Alright.”

And it’s not like you two haven’t seen each other naked before — hell no. You do that any chance you get. But this? It’s different. It’s a new kind of intimacy being explored. The two of you strip down and jump in the shower together, and you can tell immediately that Bakugo’s unsure what exactly you’re doing in there with him. That is, until you reach around him and grab some of your vanilla scented body wash, lathering it in your hands and start to rub his shoulders. The emotion hits him like a truck in his exhausted state, fight or flight kicking in to run from this…but he doesn’t. Instead, he lets you massage the soap all over his body for him, eyes closed and the tension melting away as your hands explore every aching muscle.

Just when he thinks you’re done, you start washing his hair for him, too. A wave of unfamiliar affection drowns out his urge to swat your hands away as he focuses on the softness of your hands, how gently you scratch at his scalp and that it feels goddamn fantastic to be taken care of like this. It flips a switch in him, finally relaxing under your touch. Bakugo doesn’t even realize when you’re done until you’re titling his head back under the stream of hot water to rinse it out for him.

He’s not sure what good deed he’s done to deserve you, but he’s not letting it slip through his fingers this time. And who knows? Maybe he is learning how to love, and be loved, again.

[cherry-burst]

🔞MDNI - That first make-out session with Sylus is gonna hit different.

Okay, maybe you shared a few heated kisses before. A couple quick pecks because other people were around. But now, as his lips absolutely devour yours, it's a tinge (a lot) more feral.

Sylus is like a tidal wave washing over you stripping you of every expectation you had and raising the goddamn stakes ten-fold.

The searing kiss, the large hands holding you to him, and the massive body curling around you like a protective shield. It was all so intense, not to mention how he presses his knee between your legs for you to decide what to do with it.

He kisses you like he's trying to swallow you whole. The possessiveness in his actions making you weak at the knees and stealing the air from your lungs. His searing gaze only makes the coals inside you burn brighter.

You kissing him back, pressing up against his lean body like the kiss is a challenge, has him groaning into your mouth. 'Now thats my girl' he thinks. His hand cupping your face then moving to the back of your head hold your lips agains his, preventing you from breaking away too soon.

He let his inhibitions crumble completely. He has nothing on his mind other that your body on his.

Then it gets a bit more heated because you have nothing to do and, what a supprise, neither does he. You have all the time in the world to be together tonight.

He snakes his hand up your skirt and tears down the fabric underneath. Well, oops. You didn't need those panties, did you? He doesn't give a fuck. He now has access to your pussy. And, fuck, you're so wet already. He challenges himself to make you even wetter than that, more messier, more slick, positively soaked.

The neck kisses go crazy. You react to his kiss on your neck, a gasp or sigh, it fuels him. He's pulling on your hair until more of your neck is exposed so he can kiss more of you, bite more of you, suck and leave hickies on more of you.

His lips on you is all he needs. On your lips, on your neck, on your chest, on your stomach.

"Tell me you want me" Sylus asks, his fingers inside you already making you become so messy. He adds a third "Just me. Say it" The 'please' is indicative in his eyes.

His silver hair is disheveled, his breathing is heavy. His red eyes are intense to say the least. He's so far beyond the calm man you grew to love and was now the feral man you were realizing you were growing equally as smitten with.

You tell him how badly you want him, how good his lips feel, how good his fingers feel, how you want more. Sylus is beside himself, caught up in the special moment he gets to have with you, a new side if you to explore. He wants it. He wants you. All of it, all the time.

[hoshifighting]

sucking off svt until their tummy caves in a little?

seungcheol thinks he’s in control… until he’s not. he’s all cocky at first, like, “yeah, that’s it, baby, just like that,” but the second you hollow your cheeks and really get into it = his voice cracks. literally. you’ve got him gripping the sheets like they’re the only thing keeping him tethered to earth. his abs are tensing up, his eyes roll back, and his hands fly to your hair, but not to control you—he’s just holding on for dear life. “f-fuck, baby… what the hell are you doing to me?” but you know he doesn’t really mean it. he’s loving it, and you can tell by the way his hips are bucking into your mouth, half against his will. “goddamn… you’re gonna kill me.”

jeonghan tries to tease you. “is that all you got?” he’s smirking, like you’re not about to ruin his whole life. the second you start working your tongue, his smirk falters. you feel his thighs start to shake, and he’s pressing his head back into the pillow, gasping haard. “oh fuck… okay, okay, i get it—jesus—” he’s laughing, but it’s breathless, like he’s losing his mind, and he knows he’s not the one in control anymore. he’s letting out these choked noises.

joshua’s the one who tries to stay all proper at first, but you’re sucking him off so good, he’s losing his damn mind. his hands are gripping your shoulders, and his mouth falls open, this breathy little whine slipping out. “holy shit... you tryna destroy me or something?” and his head’s tilting back, all flushed and fucked out. he’s trying so hard not to swear too much, but the second you take him deep, he curses, his hips jerking up without thinking. “breathe, y/n… breathe.” but it’s him who’s struggling to catch his breath.

junhui’s a mess almost immediately. like, you’ve barely started, and he’s already grabbing the back of your head, eyes squeezed shut, muttering some shit in chinese under his breath. muscles twitching with every move of your mouth. “fuck, babe, i—i can’t—gonna cum quick asf” he’s got his eyes clenched shut, his voice shaky as hell, and when you go harder, his voice cracks, turning into these low, broken moans that you know are real.

hoshi tells you how good you look between his legs and etc. “shit, shit, shit! oh my god, baby, what are you—oh fuck!” but the second you really get into it, he’s gone. the words are lost in his throat, his hands are gripping your hair so tight, like he’s trying to ground himself. “holy fuck, i—i’m gonna—” his whole body jerks, and his abs? they’re going wild, twitching like he can’t control himself. when you don’t stop, he’s whining, high-pitched and breathless. “you’re gonna suck the soul outta me!”

wonwoo is just breathing deep and letting you do your thing, but his cool cracks the second you start going harder. you hear him let out this low groan, his hands flexing on your shoulders. “you’re… too good at this,” he murmurs, voice all low and husky. his stomach’s tensing up, muscles flexing like he’s trying to hold it together. and when you hollow your cheeks, really taking him deep, his voice gets rougher. “fuck—keep going.” he’s barely holding on, eyes screwed shut like he’s about to ascend.

woozi’s done for. you hear him choke on a gasp, his abs caving in like he’s trying to breathe through it. “oh my god—fuck, slow down,” he mutters, but you know he doesn’t mean it. his hands are tangled in your hair, and every time you take him deeper, he’s letting out these broken, breathy moans that he probably didn’t even realize he could make. “fuck… fuck, i’m gonna… if you keep—oh shit.” his body’s shaking like crazy.

minghao’s the quiet type, but you know you’ve got him when his thighs start trembling. “fuck, so good, so good” he whispers, almost too quiet, but then his abs are caving in, and his hands are gripping your neck. he’s not saying much, but his body’s doing all the talking—his hips twitch up into your mouth, and his breathing gets all ragged. you hear this whiny moan slip out, and when you look up, his head’s thrown back, mouth open, and you know you’ve got him. “don’t stop,” he finally whispers, voice raspy.

mingyu’s gone from the start, honestly. you’ve barely even started, and he’s already letting out those moans that doesn't even match him, like he’s feeling it in his soul. voice is all shaky when he tries to talk. “holy… fuck, baby, slow down!” his hands are in your hair, half pulling, half just holding on. when you go harder, his voice breaks, and he’s gasping. “oh my god, you’re too good at this…” he’s laughing breathlessly, but his moans are way louder than his jokes.

seokmin’s moaning so loud he shocks himself. “oh my god, wait—fuck, fuck,” he’s saying, his body jerking every time you take him deeper. his abs are flexing like crazy, and he’s got this absurd look in his eyes like he can’t believe what you’re doing to him. “how are you… fuck, i’m gonna lose it.” when you don’t let up, he’s almost crying, voice all high-pitched and breathless.

seungkwan’s absolutely losing his shit. “oh fuck—wait, wait,” he’s gasping, his hands flailing for something to grab onto. his stomach’s twitching, and his voice is breaking into these high-pitched moans that he’s probably embarrassed about, but he can’t control it. “holy shit, i’m gonna… fuck, i’m gonna come.” his hands are shaking as he grabs your head, he’s crying as you suck the soul out of him.

vernon’s gripping the sheets, abs tensing so hard you can see the muscles twitch almost wanting to rip his skin, and he’s got this breathy, broken moan slipping out. “you’re gonna suck the life out of me.” his whole body jerking with every deep suck.

chan's stomach tightens, caving in, the muscles squirming exhaustively. “oh my god… y/n, what the fuck?!” his stomach’s contracting, and he’s moaning so loud he can’t even control it. “shit, slow down, i’m gonna… fuck!” his legs are shaking, and he’s whining, moaning, chuckling. “i’m not gonna last like this!”

[jedi-starbird]

Alpha-17 and Obi-Wan being friends (derogatory) on 17's part and friends (threatening) on Obi-Wan's part is such an underrated dynamic

They could be so funny and terrifying, like Obi-Wan went through a soul shredding experience with Alpha-17 as his only company. They're friends because what else are you gonna be after you witness each other at absolute rock bottom from torture.

It's like 'dog put in cage of cheetah who's threatening to go crazy', except the dog is a grizzly bear and also threatening to go crazy.

Emotional support trooper except the trooper in question has never done any sort of supporting in his life and is actively an emotional distress trooper to a great number of the CC batch.

I want them texting everyday, I want Obi-Wan mailing handmade BFF bracelets to Alpha and Alpha sending pics back of him flipping off the camera but still wearing them, I want Alpha using Obi-Wan to keep track of and occasionally terrorize his cadets, I want 17 ending problems in the GAR (like Krell) before they begin because Obi-Wan has him shipped out on a personal transport at the first opportunity, decked out with slug-throwers Obi-Wan got him for his decant-day.

Natborn officers think this is all just an odd indulgence of General Kenobi, the Vode, however, correctly identify it as a goddamn threat and their danger assessment of Obi-Wan ticks up significantly.

When Alpha arrives on Kamino, Shaak Ti presses a shiny new comm into his hand. It has the Jedi Order symbol painted onto it alongside a smiley face sticker, and it pings immediately with a new message: Hello! I hope you're settling in well!

Alpha stares at the message, stares at the singular contact named 'OWK' and then stares Shaak Ti in the eye as he pitches the comm straight into the ocean. Shaak Ti's serene smile only grows larger as she calmly reaches into her robes and pulls out an identical comm, only this one has a frowny face sticker, and presses it into his hand. It lights up: I'm afraid we've bonded, Alpha :). Alpha shuts it off and pockets it with resignation.

Cody arrives on Alpha-17's personal recommendation.

A-17: He's the most difficult little bastard I have. You're perfect for each other. OWK: Thank you, he's very handsome :3 A-17: No. Stop.

The first thing he asks once he gets comfortable is who his general is texting so much that has him swinging his legs and twirling his hair. Cody assumes it's Anakin, given they seem joint at the hip anyway, but little does he know Obi-Wan's ability to consistently have the Weirdest Relationships Ever.

"Oh, it's Alpha-17, I understand you're familiar with each other?" Hmm. OK. Cody.exe is experiencing a processing error, please hold. He exits the room instead of answering. The next day he peeks over the General's shoulder when he's texting and sees walls of rambling messages from Obi-Wan. Alpha-17 replies every hour with a single text: Lose this number. Obi-Wan giggles. "He's so funny." he says.

When Obi-Wan meets the rest of the CC batch, Cody makes sure to stand perfectly angled so that he can record the reactions when his general cuts off their introductions with "Oh, no need, Alpha-17's told me all about you." It's always immediate FEAR.JPG followed by a slow spiral of What The Fuck.

What do you mean by that General. What does that mean Cody. What do you mean they text. No. Cody. What the fuck is happening, Cody. Alpha-17 doesn't have friends he has enemies and enemies he tolerates enough not to shoot on sight.

OWK: Wolffe reached for his vambrace? when I mentioned you A-17: That's where he keeps his spare knife. OWK: Hm that does explain the way he eyed me up, ambitious. A-17: Clearly not enough, he should have followed through. I taught them better.

[tired-biscuit]

i want to ride yuuji so bad and then start crying cause he’s so thick and big and then have his strong arms wrap around me and then he starts thrusting up and we’re both drooling and moaning that would be a dream

18+ MDNI, fem!reader // cw: good girl, good girl, GOOD GIRL!

he’s cooing at you while caressing your cheeks and wiping your tears away, and it’s all so goddamn sweet that it outright hurts; in a good way, though.

always in a good way when it’s with him.

especially because he does it so effortlessly? being kind is like second nature to someone like yuuji and it’s hard not to melt into a puddle of gooey emotions and spill even more tears when he’s looking up at you with hearts in his warm honey-coloured eyes and there’s this prominently lovestruck look on his face that makes him look even dumber than he already is.

but he’s also cute, awfully so. his hair is an absolute mess, his lips are in the colour of dark pink from all the kissing, his cheeks are flushed, and his skin burns so hot that he’s sweating like crazy underneath the thick hoodie that he’s still got on. you’ve been in such a rush to get him inside you that you’re both still completely dressed, aside from the bits of clothing that have been tugged down and pushed to the side in order to make the entire thing easier for you, of course.

however, having all these layers on is simply excruciating. the heat makes him pant and causes his chest to heave in a faster rhythm than normal; and all those breaths make it somewhat hard to get all the praise that he feels for you out of his system.

but yuuji is no quitter. so he swallows the runny saliva that keeps on gathering in his mouth between sentences and threatens to spill past the corner of his lips. it’s audible and it makes his adam’s apple bob in his throat, and yet he still manages to thank you in hushed, trembling whispers and broken grunts and moans.

he thanks you for being such a good girlfriend; for being so willing to give it a chance when it comes to riding him and taking him in all the way, despite the fact that it’s only been a couple of days since he’s taken your virginity and your most sensitive parts are still sore and tender from all the gentle pounding — but pounding nevertheless — he had done after getting his first taste.

you feel heat sear your face as you listen to the jumble of gratitude he’s putting before you and look at him from underneath your lashes, trying to not pay mind how tears still cling to them as stubbornly as ever.

this entire thing has not gone the way you’ve imagined it to go at all and it’s frustrating as hell. and how couldn’t it be? i mean, you’ve known how big he is, have known how it feels to have him inside you, but jesus fucking christ, this position is nowhere as easy as missionary had been — and even then you’d struggled a great deal.

because now, you’re the one who has to do all the work while he sits there, looking pretty, sometimes eyeing how your arousal glistens on his pubic hair, even though your clit hasn’t come anywhere near to kissing the spot from how much of a hard time you’re having when it comes to sitting on his dick entirely.

if only you could just—

“hey,” he says the word with such care as he cups your cheek that it sends butterflies twirling in your belly. his hand is just so big, it urges you to pet yourself against it like a little kitty. “you okay?” yet another look that’s brimming with concern is thrown your way. “we don’t have to do this if it’s too much, you know… just tell me.”

“did you really mean all that?” you mumble the exact moment his hands reach for your hips, clearly aiming to manhandle you into a position that you’d be able to endure a bit better.

“mean what?” he asks, glancing downwards just for a second as your hands stop his own. his cock twitches in response — he’s always been such a sucker for hand holding and this time is no exception. when your fingers intertwine, his heart sings in answer.

“that i’m a good girl?” the eye contact that you initiate in return is determined instead of anxious all of a sudden and it makes his pupils visibly dilate right in front of you.

it seems like you’re no quitter either.

“‘course i did,” yuuji replies in a heartbeat, cherishing how you squeeze around him whenever he gives you his approval, his praise. “you’re such a good girl, my good girl, the goodest girl to ever walk the good girl planet... they should make you mayor of goodie town.”

you giggle at that and his smile quivers with pleasure from how it makes your pussy tighten even more. he’s doing everything he can not to grab you, press you against his chest and just follow instinct and start slamming away.

maybe next time… maybe you’ll be ready for it next time.

“you’re so silly,” you whisper, leaning in to kiss him again, though this time on the forehead. his skin tastes salty, and while it may be wrong, knowing that you’re not the only one that’s having a hard time right now makes you feel just a little bit calmer.

unbeknownst to you, the fact that you’re more relaxed allows you to take yet another inch of him inside you. your muscles slacken and his fat cockhead drags against your walls as a result, slipping and pushing in, in, in. the ring of cloudy white slick forms just a little below the lower half of his cock now, stretching you further and making your tummy feel hot and tingly.

it’s definitely progress.

and it makes poor yuuji moan straight into your mouth.

[fettuccin-e]

Honey-Sweet

Description: You're far too sweet for him. He's determined not to ruin you, despite the fact that he seems to ruin everything, and everything about you just seems to make his fantasies worse. But one night can change everything, apparently, when Miguel finally sees how completely not sweet you can be.

Tags: Miguel O'Hara x Reader, afab!fem!reader, hoooh boy a lotta smut okay, oral (m and f recieving), unprotected piv (pls oh pls wrap it up irl fuck them kids), riding, doggy, missionary, some fluff bc i'm not completely deranged, light degradation (w/c: 2.1K)

A/N: oh lord the Miguel brainrot is REAL folks okay this is fucking crazy. I WANT THIS MAN TO **** ** **** * ****** ******* okay he has me fuckin frothing at the DAMN MOUTH actin like a DAMN DOG okay so please enjoy a bit of a miguel smutfest

You’re too fucking sweet for him. That’s what he tells himself. Miguel O’Hara doesn’t do sweet.

You’re fucking sweet with the way you bring cookies in for the other Spiders that accompany you on missions. You’re sweet in how you brought in a ridiculous hand-made baby blanket for Mayday when Peter first brought her in, emblazoned with his Spider-Man logo to wrap her up tight in. You’d kissed the baby on the head, whispering tiny sweet nothings into her bright red hair, and Miguel had had to hide the emergence of his fangs at the sight of it.

You’re too sweet, too kind for him. You organize little movie nights at the office, you make him stay a little longer on missions so you can see the tourist spots from different universes. And the way you look at him, all wide-eyed and bright and smiling… it does things to him.

It makes him want to bring you flowers, kiss you on the cheek. It makes him want to plan fucking candle-lit dinners and bake cupcakes with you. All sweet, too sweet.

But, because he apparently can’t stop himself, you also want to make him do decidedly not sweet things. Like grab at your tits through your suit, pinching your nipples until your knees go weak and you whimper his name in your gorgeous little voice. Like force you down on your knees, fucking his cock into your hot mouth while tears leak down your cheeks. Like tying you up with his webs, eating your pretty cunt out while you struggle against them, whining that “it’s too much, too much Miguel.” Like fucking you deep, so fucking deep on his cock, making you squeeze around him while you scream for him, beg for him to fill you up with cum. He thinks about watching it leak out of your achy pussy, dripping down your thighs.

But you’re so goddamn sweet, too gorgeous and lovely, and he can’t ruin you, he can’t. 

So when you finally wear him down, finally get him to go to coffee with you, he tries to be just as sweet as you. You hold his fucking hand, you kiss him on the cheek. You smile into his mouth as his lips meet yours in front of your apartment door. Miguel swears that his heart will pop with how much it swells when you’re near him.

He brings you flowers, walks you to your door, brings you lunch while you’re filing post-mission paperwork. And God, it’s beautiful. It’s fantastic and bright and so wonderfully domestic that Miguel wonders if he’s died, gone to some heaven he doesn’t deserve. He’s determined to revel in the domesticity of this… thing he’s created with you, his disgusting fantasies be damned.

He doesn’t like to think about how he has to fuck his hand after he drops you off at your house, his lips still burning with the touch of your soft, soft kiss. He thinks about how your lips would look stretched around his dick.

He’s content. He’s happy. For the first time in so fucking long, he’s happy. And he’ll happily tug on his dick by himself for the rest of damn time if it means that he gets to revel in your soft, pretty, wonderful sweetness for a little bit longer. He will not ruin you.

But.

As he kisses you softly in front of your apartment, the both of you still suited up from your latest mission, you tug him closer. You pull him down into your hungry mouth, and you lick into him like you’re starving for it. He can’t help how he growls at the feeling of it, his big hands coming to clutch at your hips. God, you’re pretty, fucking addicting with the way your tongue tangles with his and how you whimper when his hands cup your ass, tugging you up just that extra inch.

“Take me to bed, Miguel,” you gasp between feverish kisses, and fuck, he’s gone.

He hauls you into his arms, and his knees almost go weak at the way you wrap your thighs tightly around his middle, the way you lick into his mouth all over again.

And Miguel has spent so much time in his head, thinking, no, knowing that you’re sweeter than goddamn pie. It’s in every fucking breath you take, every moment he spends with you. 

But that night, as he lays you onto the bed, gently, gently like you deserve, he learns that you’re not as sweet as he thinks you are.

Not at all.

Not with the way you roll him over with your strength, begging for him to disengage his suit, looking at him like you want to devour him as it dissolves around him, leaving him bare to your gaze. You graze a reverent hand up his chest as he heaves under you, whispering, “God, can’t believe I’ve waited this long to have you like this. You’re so pretty, Miguel.” 

Pretty. Pretty? He can’t be the pretty one, no, not when you’re unzipping your own suit, and he can see everything. Every inch of supple, soft skin. Your nipples, hard and peaked and begging for his touch. Your pretty, pretty pussy; he can see how you’re practically dripping, the wetness between your legs glistening in the soft lamplight.

And you’re not sweet, not sweet at all, when you nip and suck little marks down his chest and abs, grinning up at him like a damn siren when he gasps at your touch. Fuck, you’re the opposite of everything he thought when you take his cock into your mouth, bobbing deeper, deeper until you just can’t anymore, jacking the rest of his cock while you kiss and lick and suck at him.

You grab his hand with your free one, and pull it into your hair. You pull up from his cock, and Christ, there’s a line of your spit that connects you to his throbbing tip, and Miguel thinks that he might die. 

“Fuck my face, baby?” you rasp, and yes, that’s it, Miguel is going to fucking die here. But he can’t refuse you, with those gorgeous eyes gazing up at him, the tip of his cock on your tongue. 

It’s not sweet, not at all, when he forces your head down on his cock, pressing himself deep into your pretty little mouth. And you moan like you love it, just taking it as he thrusts roughly into your mouth. Your spit runs down his shaft, your little whimpers and the way you choke when the tip jams into the back of your throat all echoing in his ears. 

He can’t hear himself, but God, you can. You relish the way he growls every time he pushes you down deep, telling you that, “You’re such a good girl, hermosa. Mierda, mi nena perfecta.” Your pussy throbs.

He isn’t soft, isn’t gentle like he told himself to be when he pulls you off his cock. You gasp for air, and Miguel groans as he pulls you up by your hair, dragging your spit-slick lips to his mouth. He can taste himself on your lips, all sticky and hot and puffy. 

You whine against his mouth, murmuring little pleas of “fuck me, fuck me, fuck me,” into him, and his cock twitches, red and aching desperately for your touch. 

“Have to make sure you’re ready,” he mumbles, even though he aches, even though his claws threaten to show. 

“Nononono,” you whine, and then you sit back, hovering over his cock, fucking monstrous compared to the tiny opening of your dripping pussy, and press down.

Fuck, it’s like heaven inside you, all perfect and wet and hot, and you whine, muttering that, “It’s so fucking big, God, stretches me so perfect, so fucking perfect, so much bigger than I could have dreamed-“

“Nena,” he interrupts you with a hoarse groan of his own, “gotta stop, ‘s gonna, gonna hurt you, oh fuck-“ 

And you grin at him again, filthy and raunchy and not sweet at all, as you say “I fucking want it to hurt, Miguel. Wanna feel you in the morning, wanna feel you all the time.” And you press yourself the rest of the way down his thick cock, gasping for air, your hips twitching like they can’t decide whether to run away from the sensation or seek it. 

“Fuck, wanna feel you all the time,” you murmur and Miguel can’t decide whether you’re actually talking to him or not. “Want you to fuck me so hard I can’t breathe, fill me up so fucking perfect, God, oh my God, ‘m so fucking full,” you roll your hips forward in desperate little circles, a weak attempt at getting him deeper. An endless stream of “fuck me, fuck me, please please please,” starts to leave your lips again, and you sound so desperate, so needy, that Miguel can’t help but roll you over, pinning you underneath him, and fucking his cock so hard and so deep into you that you dig your fingers into his back and sob.

He does what you ask that night. He fucks you and fucks you and fucks you, until tears leak from your eyes and your bed is soaked with a mixture of yours and his cum. And God, you scream for him, begging him for more, deeper, harder.

The slick sounds of your bodies meeting over and over must be heard all over the building, but Miguel can’t bring himself to care, not when he’s able to fuck you like this, disgusting and filthy.

How could a sweet, lovely, soft thing like you love this so much?

From that night on, it seems that all bets are off. From that night on, it seems that you make it a mission to show him exactly how not sweet you are.

Fuck, there’s no sweetness to you when you hump your hips into his face the next morning, practically smothering him in your pussy as you squeal and tangle your fingers in his hair. He digs his fingers so hard into your thighs that he’s sure they’ll bruise, and licks up your juices. Your pussy is honey-sweet on his tongue.

You’re not soft when you ride him into the mattress, throwing yourself down onto his cock and moaning as you stretch yourself out. You drag your nails down his chest as you bounce desperately in his lap, and Miguel kind of hopes you draw blood.

There isn’t an ounce of innocence when you sink down on your knees under his desk when he’s in a goddamn meeting, pulling his cock out and sucking at him until his claws shoot out and leave splintering holes in his desk. He has to hide his fangs from the video camera when you choke. 

When he finally, finally cuts the meeting short, feeding the other Spider-Men some bullshit excuse about a new anomaly, he presses your head to the base of his cock and shoots his cum down your throat. He means it as a punishment, but when he pulls you off his cock, and sees you with your eyes all glassy and smiling lazily, he can’t help but bend you over the desk and finger fuck you until you cry and scream and beg for him to fuck you with his cock.

You are so far from sweet when he fucks you on the floor after a mission, tensions run too taut and adrenaline racing through your veins. You throw your ass back onto him with every thrust into your sloppy cunt, moaning as he growls, “Such a fucking slut, can’t get enough of this cock, huh? My sweet, sweet girl, what would the rest of the Spiders say if they knew what a fucking whore you are for me?” 

And when you choke on your spit around your screams, he leans down to whisper that, “I know, cariño, I know. I'm gonna take care of you,” before he shoves your face down into the carpet and mounts you, shoving his fat cock down into you again and again and again.

Miguel is positive that he’s died and gone to heaven.

It’s not to say that you’re not the same, sweet girl who brings cookies to the office and holds his hand. No, you’re the same, perfect, sweet girl, only that you let him thank you for the cookies by eating you out on the kitchen floor. You hold his hand while you jerk his cock and swallow his moans with your kiss.

You’re just the right kind of sweet for him.

[maiiuelle]

what if rafe and reader are more than friends but they didn’t really put a label on it and even top and kelce noticed but rafe still has the occasional hookup and one night when reader was js thinking abt stuff and then she realizes that shes inlove with rafe but when she came over to tannyhill to confess and rafe answered with his hair all messed up and him shirtless and he basically smelled like sex and when rafe asks why shes there she randomly just runs away and cries in her car while driving home so basically just angst (does that make sense idk)

you feel like your going crazy, standing at tannyhill’s front stoop twiddling your thumbs.

your relationship with rafe cameron is complicated; you’d almost call it a situationship, but you couldn’t put a label on it. you’d been going to all of his parties to serve as arm candy, posed with him at the golf course, and hooked up with him more than once. it’s beyond casual, but he has yet to pop the girlfriend question. even with his little commitment, you’d been finding it hard to keep your mind off of him — or rather, what the two of you had done together. you have to mean more to him than he’s letting on.

so, you knock on tannyhill’s giant glass front door again, biting your lip nervously as you look over the texts you’d already sent him to let him know you were coming.

“hey! just thinking ab u.. are u free tn? <3” you asked right after work, hopping in the shower in hopes you could head straight to his place after.

“busy. work shit. u free on friday?”

“oh idk. sucks we cant do tn, i miss u.” you followed your message with a picture of you sitting on your pink bedsheets, posing in the mirror to show off your silky pajamas. you thought he just needed a little convincing, but he didn’t respond.

“can u call me before bed? sorry, i know u said ur busy.”

by then it had been an hour or two, still no response from rafe. you were pacing around your room. all you wanted was to spend time with him, even if that meant lounging around while he works. anything would do, you just couldn’t stay away.

you came to the conclusion had to show him how much you care somehow, and what better way than to go to tannyhill and confess your love for him — it would be like a romance movie, he’d probably be exhausted from work and happy to see you by then!

“i’m sorry if this is sudden, i just feel like i really need to see you. i’ll just drop by for a second xoxo see u soon”

suddenly, the front door swings open, revealing a very disheveled rafe cameron. his bangs are a mess, sweaty and strewn across his forehead. his whole face is red, his lips swollen, and all he’s wearing are blue flannel pajama pants. you’d seen him like this before, pussy drunk and stumbling around a dark room. your heart deflates as he pushes open the front door, familiar blue eyes squinting at you through the night. “the fuck are you doing? you’re gonna wake up my fuckin’ dad.”

“work shit, huh? really, rafe?” you snap, looking him over completely disgusted. “what’re you d—”

“nah, nah. i told you i was busy — did i not?” he cuts you off, holding a finger in your face and grabbing your upper arm with the other hand, making you jump. “could’a kept yourself from all this if you just listened to me, right? right?” he jostles you, like he could shake a response out of you, but you’re frozen. he lets you go at the sight of your face, squeezing the bridge of his nose. “fuckin’ figures.”

“are you.. high?” you pull your knit cardigan tighter around your shoulders, tears already beginning to brim your waterline at the utter betrayal.

rafe recoils, acting overly offended to take the heat off his obvious cheating. “you’re gonna talk to me like that at my own goddamn house? do me a favor — go home, and i’ll think about callin’ you.”

“don’t bother. asshole.” you cry, turning away. the last glimmer of hope you have is snuffed out when you hear the glass door slam behind him, leaving you alone once again.

defeated, you retreat back to your car, wiping your tear stained cheeks pitifully. you should have known, rafe cameron is a player.

➺ do you…

⟡ hear out rafe’s apology

OR

⟡ tell jj what rafe did

[classyrbf]

please please please write one where everything toji does just turns reader on so much that she can’t let go of him and he literally begs and whimpers for her to give him a break and she keeps saying “just one more”? (established relationship ofc)

SWEET SPOT! — TOJI FUSHIGURO

SYNOPSIS...after you husband comes home from the gym, you find yourself getting all hot and bothered, pouncing on him the second the opportunity arrived

INFO...toji x fem!reader, reader is extremely needy for toji, creampies, overstim, riding, squirting, messy, not proofread

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

thanks for the request anon!

“Hah—fuck nngh! Baby, slow…down!” Toji says through gritted teeth as you bounce up and down on his cock for what seemed like hours now. Your hips slamming down on his as you milked his cock, swallowing him whole and taking him for everything he’s worth. He doesn’t know what’s gotten into you, ever since he walked through the door you’ve been acting like a bitch in heat. His hands gripped at your ass, eyes rolling back as he felt his third orgasm approaching. He doesn’t even know how he’s still hard, but goddamn do you make it hard for him to stop.

“Gonna cum again, Toji? Want inside of me again,” you pant, eyes glazed over with lust as you stare at your husband. His jaw was slack, moans and whimpers escaping his throat while his hips twitched beneathing you. “You make me crazy, baby. I love it.” You messily kiss his swollen lips, feeling his hot cum coat your insides, your back arching into him more as you continue to fuck him.

“Baby…baby…nngh! Please, fuck! It’s too sensitive. I need—ah!” Your pussy grips around him like a vice, the mess made between you two makes lewd sounds echo through your bedroom, something out of a porn movie. “I need a break, baby, please,” he begs, desperation written all over his flushed face. His hands are roaming all over you body, a reaction from the overwhelming feeling of you wet cunt pleasuring him.

“I…I can’t stop—hah! Need…need you so bad. Just wanna keep fucking you and fucking you and—mmm fuck yes!” You squealed once you feel his bulbous tip hit your sweet spot. “Got me all worked up, baby.” You press your sweaty bodies together, holding him against you tightly as you focus on rolling your hips just the way you like. You pull at the hairs on the nape of his neck, mewling each time he grazes over your g-spot, feeling his dick throb inside of you.

“Shit! Oh my god!” His eyes screw shut, chest heaving up and down as he ascends to an ethereal plane of pleasure, a place he’s never been before. “Gonna…fucking…c-cum—nngh fuck!” He’s cumming for a fourth time now, brain turned to mush while you sit there and take it, only turned on even more than before. Hard nipples press against his broad chest, a lazy smile on your face and you caress his cheek. Pools of cum leak from your pussy and down to his balls, creating a sticky mess on the sheets that neither of you cared about at the moment.

“I just wanna keep fucking you—need to keep fucking you,” you whisper in his ear, licking a stripe down his neck, a slightly salty taste lingering on your tongue from the sweat. You pepper kisses along his sharp jawline, gentle compared to your movement below. “Hah, Toji, baby, I’m gonna cum!” Your brows furrow as little whimpers form into pants and moans. “Fuck! Fuck!” You fuck him harder out of pure greed feeling the pressure in your lower abdomen when you finally lift your hips and let go. Streams of clear liquid shoot from your dripping cunt, soaking your thighs and Toji’s as well, his cum mixing in with your juices and dripping out of your hole.

You’re holding onto him for dear life, body quivering and growing weak as you continue to squirt, sheets soaked. “Oh my god!” You suck in a breath, falling into his arms as you try and come down from an orgasm that strong, shaky breaths leaving your lips. You stare at him through thick lashes, sloppily kissing his lips while his hands grope your ass, pulling you closer on his lap. You still felt needy, horny, rocking your hips back and forth to find any sort of friction. You moan into the miss before pulling back from your husband. “I just wanna sit on your face now,” you say without thought.

You push him back on the bed, his head falling against the plush pillows. You climb over him, each one of your legs on either side of his head and it takes no more than a second for you to properly sit on his face. A blissful sigh escapes you, throwing your head back in ecstasy when you feel his tongue dip between your folds. “Always make me feel so good,” you moan. One thing Toji knows, is he’s gonna be here for a long while.

[rafescvntyclubgf]

Milkshake - Rafe Cameron One Shot

+18 Minor DNI

OlderPerv!Rafe x BestFriend!Reader

both are in their 30’s

⭐️ republished ⭐️

+18 Minor DNI

🪄 (spoilers) Cheating, swearing, name-calling, oral (male receiving), cum play, choking, Rafe’s a perv 🚩, has pictures and videos of reader w/out her consent, mentions listening to her masterbate,fetishizes simple things (reader licking whipped cream and drinking from a straw) because he’s a perv

📖 OlderPerv!Rafe is obsessed with his best friend (reader) and is willing to do whatever it takes to get you. Based off of an ask: Perv daddys best friend paying yn to only put the tip into her Because thats not really cheating on his wife it is not all the way in is it? But it feels so good too her and she just pushes herself all the way down rafe is totaly in awe as she starts riding him Her putting his hands on her tits

✨ “What?” You cut him off, pulling back a little, staring into his lust-blown eyes. He leans in, not wanting to explain any further. You take your hand, resting it on his neck, pushing him back to the headrest, making his eyes flutter shut. Rafe releases a primal groan, the vibrations felt against your palm. He likes this. You squeeze his throat a little tighter, making him moan. ✨

2.8 K lightly edited (<- mostly smut)

Reader’s POV:

“My mouth is watering, Rafe,” you groan. “This is torture.”

His eyes cut over to yours, rolling back in annoyance. “If you think you’re drinking a milkshake in my car, you’re crazy. I don’t even let my wife bring food in here. This ride is my baby. It’s ten-minute tops.”

“You don’t eat or drink in your car… ever?” You pout, poking out your bottom lip as you look around his pristine ride. The answer is so plainly written in the details.

“You can fuck up my bimmer, my G-Wagon, hell even my Escalade. Aight? Dealer’s choice. But you’re not eatin’ in the DB5.”

“Did this come with your mid-life crisis starter pack or what?”

Rafe sucks his teeth and laughs. “Yeah. Yeah. This and that fleshlight-“

“TMI!”

“TMI?” He gasps through a laugh. “It’s the only thing fuckin’ me these days. M’always in the doghouse. Always…”

“What did you do this time, Cameron?”

“Nothin’.”

“Bull-fuckin’-shit,” you retort. Rafe rakes back his hair nervously, scratching at his 5 o’clock shadow. Fuck, he’s handsome… You stare at him a little more. His head snaps your way, catching you with a smirk on his lips.

“You like what you see or what?” He challenges.

You roll your eyes and scoff. “What did you do, Ray,” you mimic his Sofia’s voice, making him cringe.

“Fuck, you’re too good at that. Don’t do that shit.”

“What?” You mock her again.

“Like nails on a chalkboard. I swear. Use your voice. Please.”

“Mhmm… If you let me eat in your car and IF you tell me why you’re in trouble.”

“You’re a nosy little shit. You know that?”

“Ray…” You breathe in her tone again.

“Shut up about your goddamn milkshake,” he huffs. “It ain’t gonna happen. What adult drinks a milkshake anyways?”

“It’s got booze in it.”

“And?” He sasses.

“Island Club makes the best mudslides. You know that. Stop stalling and tell me what’s up.”

“Fine! She found pictures on my phone. Okay?”

“Pictures?”

“Pictures.”

“Of what?”

“It’s personal.”

“Of who?”

“Leave me alone!”

“Pussy.”

“It’s none of your goddamn business. Alright?”

You turn toward him, dramatically swiping your finger across the whipped cream, bringing it to your mouth. Rafe’s eyes dart from you to the road and back. “C’mon, Rafey.” You slip your finger between your lips, leaving a little mess on the bottom. Rafe lifts an eyebrow in your direction, a smirk pulling on his perfect lips.

He punches the gas, making you grip your seat wide-eyed. “We’re almost there,” he smiles as his car barrels through the night. Your heart starts to race along with the speed of his Aston Martin, the pointer kissing seventy miles an hour.

“R-Rafe. The speed limit is twenty-five.”

“It’s optional.”

“Rafe!” You squeal, grabbing onto the door as you round a tight curve. He lets out a wild laugh, eyes trained on the road ahead as the engine roars.

“This is so fucking dangerous!”

“Please… You should have thought about it before you did whatever the fuck that was,” he groans. “And it isn’t dangerous, baby. You’re safe.” Baby…

The trees around you melt into the night as you fly by them. Nothing is visible but the road before you. Rafe doesn’t look frightened in the slightest, completely confident, blissed out even. “Where are we even going?” You spit.

“Our spot.”

“Our spot? What spot?”

“The spot where we smoked weed for the first time… Riddler Cove – Beach Access,” he blurts breathlessly. “You were wearin’ that little red bikini,” he smiles as he wets his bottom lip, twisting his hands a little tighter on the steering wheel as he recalls something from 16 years ago.

Rafe reaches for the speaker, cranking up the music. The bass bumps in your chest, dueling with the rapid beating of your heart. You see the Riddler Cove parking lot come into view, vast darkness stretching ahead as you near the water. He smiles in your direction, his mood changing in an instant. A shameful look spreads on his face as he slows his roll. “I should have asked,” he sighs. “I’m sorry. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Jesus Christ. Just give me a fucking warning next time,” you let out a nervous laugh, punching his arm hard. Rafe coasts down the route, sailing into the vacant parking lot. Your heart rate slows, and your grip loosens on the leather seat.

Rafe quickly cuts off the engine, turning toward you hastily, a shit-eating grin on his face. “Show me.”

”Show you what?“ You laugh lightly as you turn your body toward him again.

His eyes lower from yours, landing on your cleavage. Rafe’s breath hitches as he takes in the sight of your tits pressed together. ”Uhh.. That thing you did with the whipped cream. Show me again. It wasn’t fair… I didn’t get to see.“

Your cheeks burn from your smile. You shake your head dizzily. “No, Rafe.”

“Pretty please.”

“We’re friends. What the fuck do you wanna see that for?”

“Why did you do that in the first place? Huh? What do you expect from me?”

“I don’t know…” You scoff. “Perv.”

“‘Scuse me?”

“You heard me.”

“I’m no perv. I’m just a guy. Sue me.”

“If I do it again, will you let me have my shake in here?” You relax your head into the seat, fluttering your lashes.

“If you do it again, you can have whatever you want.”

“Depends then. Are you telling me your secrets?”

“You don’t wanna know.”

“I really, really wanna know,” you smile.

“Ugh. FUCK! Fine. They were… pictures of – well… Pictures of you.”

“We’re best friends. Why wouldn’t you have pictures of me?” You sneer as you think about his perfect little housewife.

“Uh… Yeah. Not those kinds,” he laughs weakly.

“Tell me. Please.” You throw your gaze down to the shake, hand drawing toward it slowly. Swiping again, you collect the sweet cream on your finger, bringing it to your lips.

Rafe’s gaze follows you closely, watching as it passes your lips, grazing your tongue. His lips mirror your own, slightly parted. You leave a little mess just like before. “Kelce,” he mumbles, too lost in the moment to even think straight.

“Excuse me?” You laugh breathily.

“Sorry – umm,” he fumbles as he watches your tongue slide across your lip. “You guys dated.”

“Duh,” you scoff.

“Been… Mmm,” he moans, watching you wrap your lips around the straw, watching you suck.

“Been?”

“I’ve been stealing your nudes off his phone for years.”

“Rafe!” You gasp through a broad nervous smile.

“Yeah – Yeah. You seem real upset about it, sweetheart,” he teases you as you try to act serious about it all.

“Why? I mean do you want me?”

“Obviously. I’d do anything. I mean anything to have you,” he sighs. “Even a little.”

“Even a little?” You ask, riding off the high of your beautiful best friend’s admittance. I mean, I should be upset, but I’m not. Not in the slightest.

“Just the tip. Please,” he pleads. “I’ll – I’ll pay you even.”

“Jesus, Rafe. Pay me? What the hell?”

“No – No. Stop. Think of it as a thank you. Okay? And it’s just the tip, so it’s not technically cheatin’.”

“Would your Sofia say the same?” You ask.

“Do you care?” He questions louder as he cocks an eyebrow in your direction. You think about it momentarily, shaking your head no before looking back into his beautiful blue eyes. “I don’t.”

“Yeah. That’s what I thought. So, please,” Rafe whispers, lessening the space between you.

“I should be upset about the pictures, Cameron,” you whisper as you match his movements.

“You really, really should be. But you aren’t,” he subsists as his lips hover mere inches from yours. Rafe’s hand works up your arm, toiling around the back of your neck. “10k.”

“10? Are you kidding?”

“I’ll make it 15 if you stop askin’ questions-”

“Deal.” His lips crash into his, taking your breath away. Mouths, parting; tongue, greeting his as you throw your seatbelt off. Rafe reaches for you, pulling you onto his lap. He grabs your hips, driving you closer. You can feel the chill of your wetness as your panties graze his belt buckle, making you moan softly into your kiss. Rafe smiles against your lips.

“20 if you just let me play a little,” Rafe hums like he snorted a line, finally getting his fix. “20 G’s.”

“Rafe…”

“I’m serious. No more questioning me. C’mon. Your moans sound so much prettier close like this-” he pants.

“What?” You cut him off, pulling back a little, staring into his lust-blown eyes. He leans in, not wanting to explain any further. You take your hand, resting it on his neck, pushing him back to the headrest, making his eyes flutter shut. Rafe releases a primal groan, the vibrations felt against your palm. He likes this. You squeeze his throat a little tighter, making him moan.

“Fuckkk,” he drawls. “You’re killing me,“ he rasps.

You lean in closer, brushing your lips against his, making him whine when you pull away slightly, causing him to chase your mouth. “How do you know what it sounds like when I moan, Rafe?” You whisper against his lips.

“I’ve heard it before. So, so, so many times…”

“How?”

“Through the wall, on my phone, out your window, behind a door. I know what it sounds like when you cum on your fingers, your vibrator, or a dick. Just – Just please don’t stop. I’m sorry. 40… Alright? 40k. 50 if you let me take off your clothes. Me. Not you.”

He rests his head on your shoulder, burying himself in your neck as you think. His lips press against your skin; wet kisses planted as he moves to your jaw, working his way back to your neck, sucking lightly. “You smell so damn good,” he groans hungrily, making you pulse below. “So perfect.” Your hands fall slowly down his chest, working lower and lower.

He breathes your name against your skin as your fingers graze over the top of his jeans; his cock, rock-hard underneath, making him suck in a breath. “Rafe,” you pant against his lips as your fingers continue to outline his length, working down his thigh.

His hands skim higher, pinching your lace thong between his fingers. “I’m begging you,” he pleads pathetically.

“Okay.”

“Okay? Seriously?”

Rafe grabs the door handle fast, pressing it open before you can change your mind. A strong breeze whips through the car as the two of you step out. Rafe shuts the door, quickly backing you into the vehicle as his hands work around your neck, kissing you deeper. His hips drive into yours, tongue slipping through your lips. You moan his name softly, making his hold on you even tighter.

His hands fall to your hips, gripping tightly, turning you away. Your hands rest against the driver’s side window as he works up your thighs, slipping under your skirt. You look over your shoulder, matching his gaze as he seizes your hips. You can feel his cock through his jeans, stiff against your ass. Rolling slowly, you work yourself against him, listening to his muttered praise. His fingers dig deeper, a bruising hold on your body that’ll surely leave marks.

“Fuck, baby,” he groans. Rafe reaches under your skirt, looping his long fingers around the string of your panties, pulling them over your ass. Rafe quickly grabs them from the ground, tucking them in his pocket for later. You feel the chill of your wetness against the open air, the warmth of his hand following close behind, gliding up your inner thigh, drifting closer and closer. Rafe’s thick fingers sweep up your wet pussy. “Shit…” He moans, huskily quickly stuffing them in his mouth, sucking you off. Rafe reaches forward and grabs your neck, pulling you back to his lips. He kisses you, causing chills to fall over your body and nerves buzzing from head to toe as you taste yourself on his lips. “Get in the back.”

Rafe grabs the door and pulls it open, letting you sink inside. He follows closely behind, snatching you and pulling you back onto his lap. You pinch the bottom of your dress, but he stops you. “You said I could-” He huffs. “We had a deal.” You give him a nod, and he smiles boyishly, pinching the little zipper between your tits, tugging it open achingly slow; Rafe hanging onto every moment. His mouth falls agape, eyes wide as he drinks you in. ”Goddamn,“ he groans as he tosses his head back, a broad smile painted on his lips.

You draw your mouth to his neck, kissing him roughly. He lets out a sinful chuckle, taking a grip on your ass, spanking you, circling your bare skin. “Mmm… Let me look at you, baby,” he says. Rafe bites his kiss-bitten lip, studying you carefully as his fingers trace up your spine slowly. He lands on the clasp of your bra, unfastening it. The fabric slips off your shoulders and onto his lap. His eyes follow the lace, journeying up your body again, landing on yours. He takes your nipple in his mouth, swirling and biting, before moving to the other side.

BEEP.

Your stomach drops. The gravity of the situation is setting in as you see a text notification from his wife. You pull away, grabbing your bra off his lap. “Hey. No – N-No. Stop. Please. Just – Just c’mon. I need this. Please. I need you-”

“Who said I was gonna stop?” You whisper as you toss your bra to the floor.

You lean over, grabbing his phone, declining his wife before flicking your finger a couple of times, angling it straight at the two of you, pressing record. “Did you just… Are we? Oh my god,” he babbles as you help him out of his polo. You let out an airy laugh, resting your hand against his chiseled chest, using the other to trace his signature gold chain.

“Am I recording this? Yeah. Yeah, I am,” you hum. Rafe’s heart bangs under your palm, the man unable to catch his breath. “Just the tip.”

“Just the tip,” he stammers as he races for his belt, quickly fighting with the button and zipper. Rafe strips down to his boxers, letting you do the rest. You tease him, taking your time, revealing his length inch by inch. His dick springs free, slapping against his toned stomach; his fat tip messy with precum. Your gaze flicks to his as you lower your mouth to his cock. Rafe’s lips part, eyes hooded. His thick breathing and moans fill the car. “Shit,” he hisses as you pull away, looking down at you with a mix of emotions. “55… 55k?”

You hover over his tip, running a line of spit onto the head of his cock. His muscles tighten, fist slamming down on the leather seat.

“60,” you tease.

“Just – just take it. The black one. Fuck the black card in my wallet. I don’t care. Anything you need… Anything you want… Anything you think about, it’s fucking yours.”

“I’m not taking your money,” you whisper, blowing lightly on his cock before swirling your tongue around his head, collecting his precum.

“Oh fuck,” he moans. Rafe’s mouth falls open, his long, thick dick cumming in ropes of white almost instantly. His apologies get caught in his throat as you lick a line up his stiff shaft, cleaning the mess. Rafe reaches for air as he watches you suck him off some more, using what remains to stroke his cock as you tap his tip against your tongue. He looks over at the phone in a fucked-out daze, smiling in satisfaction before throwing his head back. “Yeah… Yeah you are. You’re taking my goddamn money.”

He grabs you, pulling you into his arms, lips crashing into yours. Rafe wraps his strong arms around your body, pulling you nearer, his bare chest pressed against yours. Your heart races a little faster as your adrenaline starts to kick it. ”The tip?“ He asks hopefully between kisses, getting greedy, hoping you’ll cave and give him more.

“Only the tip,” you respire as you thrust your hand between the two of you, taking hold of his cock.

“I’ll take it,” Rafe whispers as his head meets your cunt. He lets out a deep groan, thundering in his chest. His eyes meet yours again. “This is for me?” He asks shakily. “Please say it’s for”

“You, Rafe. It’s all for you.”

He takes control, gripping his cock in his fist, running his fat mushroom tip through your slick folds, swirling softly on your clit. Rafe shudders in overstimulation but there’s no fuckin’ way he’ll stop for anything. He slows down slightly, a smile spreading on his lips as he glides lower.

“Mmm… Right there,” you whisper against his mouth as his head toys with your entrance. His lips press against yours as you widen your thighs, dropping down on his tip, feeling a big stretch.

“Fuck me,” he pants.

“Feels so good, Rafe,” you whimper.

“So damn good. Holy shi-” You sink lower and lower unable to stop yourself. Rafe lets out a long, drawn-out moan against your lips. “Oh… Oh fuck,” he stammers as he clutches your hips when you’re fully sat, pulling back to look at you in awe. He pushes you down a little more, making your eyes roll back in your skull, filled to the brim with him. The sight of your pleasure is almost too much to take.

The two of you watch as you rise up, Rafe’s thick cock glistening with your essence. You hook one hand behind his neck, leaning back slightly, gripping the leather seat. You start to ride him, grinding and bouncing on his big cock as his large hands hold onto your tits. Rafe grabs your hips and slap your ass; just playing with your body, worshiping your curves like he’s always wanted.

“I’m not gonna last – just keep going. Please-” He begs.

“Just keep cumming for me…” You moan as you start to roll your body, working him in and out of your soaked pussy, 60 thousand dollars richer.

my masterlist 🔮

[pinkie-quinns]

(posting some old twitter threads here for posterity's sake)

Chrissy and Eddie breakup. She's a lesbian, apparently. Has finally come to terms with it. It's half a decade of Eddie's life in the dust. He... he doesn't exactly handle it well.

But Steve's there for him, offers Eddie a shoulder to cry on.

They’re drunk when Eddie says no one’s ever been in love with him. Not really. So Steve kisses him.

But Eddie’s straight.

He always has been.

He freaks the fuck out. Bolts. Lets the calls go to voicemail. He’d lost his partner and one of his best friends in the span of a week and it’s not fair and he’s pissed off beyond belief at Steve for doing it. 

But he’s also confused. And he also can’t stop thinking about it. 

He stews on it for weeks. Avoids mutual friends like the plague. The band lets people know he’s alive, apparently. Between losing Chrissy and Steve, he feels like there are chunks of him missing. So he gets drunk. Hooks up with blondes who kiss him all wrong. 

He’s five whiskeys deep and when he finds himself banging at Steve’s door. Steve answers with his hair mussed and his voice sleep-rough. And Eddie tells him he’s really fucking pissed at him. And Steve apologizes again. And it should be enough but it’s just fucking not. 

So Steve apologizes again and again and again, all blubbery and guilt-ridden. It's only making Eddie more angry. And he doesn’t know why. And he’s too drunk for this shit.

So he shoves Steve against the door and kisses him stupid. 

He wakes up in his own bed the next morning and he's sure he dreamt it. (He’s been dreaming it a lot lately.) But his lips are all stubble-scrapped and his mouth is cotton but he remembers how his friend's tongue tasted and he just.. Wants to cry.

Cause he’s not gay. He’s not. Other people are. Most of his friends are. And he’s fine with that! He’s been a good ally.

Well, maybe not to Chrissy. But only cause it broke his goddamn heart. Only cause he loved her so much. Only cause he'd never felt that way about anyone before or anyone since.

Except well— Fuck. Shit fucking fuck.

So he calls her. He’s kind of hoping it’ll ring through but she picks up straight away, lets out a soft little hey. And it breaks his heart all over again to hear her voice. But he takes a breath and says, “I kissed Steve.”

And she pauses. “You kissed Steve?"

And then he says, “Well, he kissed me first. But yeah. I got drunk. Jeez Chris, I got wasted. And then I— yeah, I kissed him.”

And she's quiet for a long time, just soft breathing and static. Then she says, “Thank you for telling me, Eddie.”

And oh. That’s what it was, wasn’t it?

So they talk about it. All of it. And he really listens to her this time. He couldn’t the last time, couldn’t hear over the sound of his heart fuckin’ shattering. Then he’s the one blubbering apologies cause his girl was going through all this shit totally alone and he is now way too familiar with how bad it sucks.

And then they talk about It. The big It. All the stuff her mama drilled into her brain since she was in diapers. All the names that got spat at him between hall shoves. Shit they couldn’t be 'cause then they’d be wrong, shit they couldn’t be 'cause then they’d be right. 

And when they’re done and the conversation turns into How’s the band? and Is Marcel still driving you crazy? Eddie feels ten pounds lighter, almost whole again. Like he was but better, all glued together in gold. Well, almost altogether.

He really needs to talk to Steve. 

He knocks on his door again that night. This time not at 1 AM, this time sober and remarkably dehydrated.

And Steve answers. This time put together, this time hair done and voice in its day pitch (Eddie kinda misses the sleep rasp). And he looks.. fuck. He looks perfect, doesn’t he?

Eddie’s spent all day mulling this conversation over. But standing here now he’s coming up blank. He mutters, “I- I was an asshole.”

Steve opens his mouth but Eddie just trucks on.

“–you were an asshole too, man. But me, uh, probably more?” 

And he ignores the way his stupid traitor eyes start to water, always do when the moment feels too big. “–Sorry about that. Sorry that I freaked, sorry that I was pissed at you for the shit I was just pissed at myself for. Sorry for, uh. Yelling at you. Sorry, um. Yeah. Sorry for kissing you. That definitely wasn’t cool. It’s been uh... a confusing month. Shit. I’m so sorry Steve.”

Steve just leans against the door. Normally he wore everything on his face. Couldn't win Texas Hold 'Em to save his life. Not now though. Now it feels like Steve could have a sleeve full of aces and Eddie wouldn’t know a thing.

But then he says “Eddie” so quiet it sounds like he hadn't even meant to. Like it just slipped onto his tongue.

Eddie can’t do anything but blink, “Yeah?”

“Let me um-” Steve swallows, “Let me get this straight. Where’d you land?”

God, this shit was humiliating, “Not that. Straight. Not straight.”

“Ok. Cool.”

“Yup.”

“And me–” Steve scratches at the back of his neck, “where did you land on me?”

Eddie feels like he’s gonna explode. But he can’t bolt. Not again. Even though every bone in his body wants to. So he plants his feet, coughs, “Well, I pretty much assaulted you, didn’t I?”

Steve rolls his eyes, snarks a laugh. “Sure. Yeah. I’ve been totally gone on you since, I dunno, forever. You were straight. You were basically married to your high school sweetheart. All it took was one of those things no longer being true for me to totally nosedive. But sure, you threw yourself at me.”

This was. It was a lot. 

“Steve–”

Steve waves a hand, stops him. “‘No one’s ever been in love with you. Not really.’ That’s what you said, dude. Meanwhile, shit, cards on the table here? Every relationship I’ve had in the last five years has been a pointless attempt to get over you. So yeah, it was weird to hear, Eddie.” 

Steve won’t look him in the eye. His neck is craned towards the ceiling.

Eddie whistles through his teeth, “Maybe, uh… maybe give me a bit more time?”

“Oh.” Steve finally glances up. His poker face is all gone. He looks like a kicked puppy. “Yeah, yeah, of course.”

“I’ll probably just need a week or two? I mean, fuck man, that’s a whole other, like Phylum of pornography I’ve been missing out on for the last 25 years. I gotta get myself acquainted before I can, you know–” He reaches out, rubs at Steve’s bicep with a wink, “Get myself Acquainted.”

Steve’s whole body is shaking. Eddie can feel the relief flitting out of him. “Jesus Christ, Munson.”

“Then I’ll take you out, Harrington! Show you the town.”

“Dude, will your dick even work at that point?”

“On the first date?” Eddie gasps, “Lord Harrington, how improper!”

Steve just shrugs, “Rules are different for guys.”

“What? Wait seven years and then hope you land a sexuality crisis?” Then Eddie’s leaning in, closing the space between them. Trying to ignore the pounding in his chest, thinks maybe he's never been so terrified. 

Steve smiles into the kiss. “Yeah, Munson. It's something like that.”