#ughhh need it

[dark-fics-4-you]

thinking thots abt dark!patrick zweig x Art’s gf!Reader 👀

[mochilly]

(💿) ᵎᵎ GAMES CDS PNG PACK. ୨୧

— Like or reblog if saving/using .

[arkhambug]

JASON TODD thought it’d be fun to take you to a bar — one with a mechanical bull, after Roy’d told him about it.

Jason had remembered you saying something about riding one once, offhandedly, and the statement had wiggled itself into the grooves of his brain, firmly there. and he really wanted to see you do it.

and it’s not even sexual, it’s not supposed to be; he’d seen the videos of people doing tricks and shit online, or landing on their asses. and he really just wanted to see what you’d do.

so he takes you — and you get gussied up, in those pretty low rise jeans that show off your tummy, and a shirt that hugs everything just right and shows off your collar bones, and the navy blue and black ariats he’d bought you, and you two go.

and you approach the ring like you’re a fucking champion fighter, and he’s immediately excited.

and then he’s watching you bounce on the metal animals back, watching your hips roll in tandem with every buck as the man on the control board tries his damndest to throw you off, watching the way your forearm tenses as you hold onto the strap while your free hand comes to steady yourself behind you against the faux-hide.

and then you do some insane shit, and launch yourself up as the bull makes a particularly sharp turn around, leg swinging over its lowered head as your hips buck away, and land on it fucking backwards — hands braced in front of you as you keep following the way it moves, hair messy and sweat pooling on your brows and the nape of your neck.

and Jason almost cums in his pants, then and there, the sight of you so fucking entrancing he feels himself start to fatten up and his breath hitches in his throat.

a/n based on that one line from my last post lmaooooo (i need him BADDDDDD)

[ayyunah]

Odd one out at the gallery, wake up

[blorbosinmyheadcentral]

hits them with the hoomanization beam

[bloodbroox]

asajj is currently rescuing force users through the hidden path along with quinlan, in this essay i will-[GUNSHOT]

[housecow]

lol I hope you weren’t under the impression that the dress was hiding how ill fitting your bra was….

i’m not really worried abt that bc imagine these in that dress. if you’re at my height or taller than me: YOURE WELCOME

[kenny-404]

“he’s so insane for this” and it’s just a man looking at the love of his life 🤭

[tedzyrotten]

vessel air guitar will never not be funny

[missmimii]

I cannot physically do it anymore guys

fuck me PLEASEE

[derpycatsu]

icarus

[bonbonly]

its currently 1 am and im crying at how beautiful lewis is 😭

[sunlit-mess]

snap out of it

[sunken-silk]

Im back with some art for THE FANATASTIC NEW CRELOISE FARMHAND AU by fujifilms over on ao3!! you will want to read it, trust!!

(personally, i am a VERY big fan of beefy Cressida)

[bruciemilf]

Protective daddy Thomas Wayne.

No thoughts, only baby Bruce riding on his papa’s shoulders, mind ice cream in his tiny hand, much to Alfred’s utter dismay. “You’re getting so big, bunny! Oh don’t look so salty. He likes it.”

“If he wakes up and likes tigers, shall we commence to that, too?”

“Siberian tigers, sure.”

“T’ger,” Bruce just started speaking and it’s the most adorable and beautiful thing he’s ever heard. Thomas can’t deny himself peppering kisses all over him, and Alfred, too.

His hair shivers.

Carmine Falcone approaches them with a sharp eye. “Thomas Wayne outside and walking. Didn’t think I’d see you. And who’s this?” He’s bad at appearing harmless. Bruce hides behind Thomas’ head, peeking at him through his eyelashes.

Thomas’ radiant smile vanishes in something cold. “My baby.”

“My future competition,” he hums, “Pretty little thing. Like his daddy.”

A flat silence snows over them, and Thomas gently passes his baby boy to a still, smiling that switchblade smile of him.

“Let’s talk, Carmy.”

—

“Listen here, ya rat bastard,” He sneers, smile manic and eyes wide, like a scorned serpent baring its fangs, forearm pressed tight against Carmine’s throat. He watches that little vermin thrash and wheeze.

Thomas’ accent is honeyfire, drawling like a whiskey river and booming like lighting. “You even look at my son again, I swear on my mama’s body, boy, I’ll dig up your piece of shit daddy and make you eat the skin. You understand?”

“Yes.”

“Don’t fucking play with me, Falcone. “

“I swear,” he groans, clawing at Thomas’ arm, but he doesn’t even feel it, that’s how enraged he is. “On my father’s name, I swear.”

“Good. “ A knee to the stomach is unnecessary, yet greatly desired. “Get the fuck off my streets.” And if Alfred watches Thomas hide his bloody knuckles from Bruce while they’re at the park, who’s he to say anything?

[musouie]

grinding against old man toji’s knee while he’s playing a word puzzle…

he has one hand on your waist, the other holding a pen, and your arms circle around his neck as you lazily drag your cunt along his muscled thigh. a trail of slick left in your wake.

at first glance, he appears uninterested. eyes lidded and focused on the crossword before him, breaths escaping his nose in long, measured huffs. but he’s been on the same square for a while now, and when you look down, you see his cock tenting in his joggers, begging to be let out. the poor thing :(

“i’m tryna think,” he groans, a hiss following shortly after. “and i can’t do that with ya’ grindin’ on me like this.”

but his body betrays him. his meaty thigh tenses beneath you, lifts ever-so-slightly to offer better friction, the movement making you whimper in turn.

“it’s not going anywhere. just a few minutes,” you whine, lips pressing into his jaw. they wander along its ruggedness before planting themselves over a particularly inviting patch of skin, where his adam’s apple bobs temptingly as he swallows.

“hnnm.”

he attempts a huff, as if in an attempt to stay stern, but the gesture peters off into a gritted whimper when you close your teeth around his jugular, worrying his flesh. a curse leaves him, a hiss in the crook of his throat, and his grip on his pen tightens, white-knuckled and rigid, threatening to break.

“yer a selfish girl, aint’cha?” toji rasps, voice nothing short of gravel. “won’t even gimme a moment to myself, won’t listen. makin’ my dick hard and leavin’ the task half-finished.”

you don’t deny the sentiment; can only manage a pleased hum when he curls one arm around you and presses you even closer to him. sighing when he places his pen down and his other hand joins.

“then we’re gunna do this on my terms,” his fingers dig into your flesh — squeeze. “ain’t that fair?”

and with a small smirk tugging at his lips, his fingers dig into the pliant flesh of your hip, urging you to move. he directs your motions himself: the grinds, the presses, the gyrates until you catch the rhythm, the one he prefers.

it leaves you sore. clit rolling roughly against his hardened thigh, your flesh chafed, your moans trapped in your throat. but the pain feels too good. his hands too coarse, fingers too firm, touch too bruising, breaths too hot against your nape to voice a thing.

so, you acquiesce.

allow your head to loll forwards and rest in the junction between his neck and shoulders while he nuzzles and bites at your own delicate skin between the two. his fingertips creep under your panties, knuckles gliding through your sopping cunt before toying with your clitoris, teasing and flicking until you almost fall off his lap with the force of a shudder.

it all becomes too much, then — the roughness, the fervour, the bites, his clothed length rubbing against your front. all that you can do is fist his shirt and keen.

you come, harsh and brutal, stars bursting behind the darkness of your lids, toes curling so hard you’re surprised your ankles don’t snap. your arms tighten, becoming a vice around toji, and you bite his skin in an attempt to not scream as his fingers relentlessly attack your bundle of nerves.

eventually, your wails, full-throated and inarticulate, dissipate and fade. toji remains the constant — still rubbing, still tracing his mouth across any expanse of skin he can get, and when he realises that you can’t possibly endure anymore, he captures your lips instead, nipping and tugging at them with a smirk.

“look at the mess ya’ made of my pants, filthy girl. now ya gunna help me clean it up.”

masterlist <3