#yn insert

[daenadraws]

Part 12

He's just a little nervous...

[justladders]

Permission to...

Poke... It...

(He's so fluffy)

[jack-o-phantom]

Seeing things 🐟

Maybe the solitude life is getting to them. On the other hand, someone is brave enough to sleep on the docks

[juicyyyboxxx]

Back at it again, exploding your dash with work doodles

[trtlebuns]

Get Back Here

Prompt - He realised the child had seen him and he couldn't let him get away

Tags: Price, AFAB, Children, Fluff, Comedy

It was 3am…

Price had promised that he wouldn’t be out too late but here he is trying to not make any noise to wake either you and his 15 year old son up.

“Shit” Price whispered angrily to himself as the door creaked loudly trying to open it

“Needs some fucking WD40” He said while fully stepping inside and slowly and carefully closing the door while checking his surroundings

Slipping off his shoes and coat to not place any tracks on the tile floor

“Alright” Price mumbled to himself as he walks through the house and passes the kitchen

But something caught his eye

A fresh batch of cookies in a container sitting on the counter

Who was he to deny a fresh baked cookie?

Who is ANYONE to deny- ok

He simple turnt on his heel and made his way to the cookies

“Hey…you come here often? I haven’t seen you around and you look pretty..delectable” Price said sweet nothings to the container as he opened it and indulged in about 3 cookies

“Y/n you really put your foot in this, damn” Price was about to reach for another one, but he felt eyes on him

A quick turn of the head

Your son sees him

Price sees his son

Your son sees him

Price sees his son

Your son sees him

Prices sees his son

Instantly your son dashes to your room, knowing that you told him:

“If your dad comes home late, come wake me up. I got an earful for that man, okay?”

“Get your ass back here” Price huffed out while chasing his son

“You’re in so much trouble old man” Your son laughed while reaching the door to your bedroom

“Don’t!” Price pleaded while trying to reaching out to grab your sons shirt to stop him from opening the bedroom door

But he was far too slow

“MOM!” Your son barged in your room, to see you already up, sitting on the edge of the bed with your legs crossed and arms folded over your chest

“He’s late” your son huffed out while smiling

“Thank you my sweet sweet son, you can go back to living your life” you say while getting up

“Anytime mom” your son leaves and sticks his tongue out at price while he passes him to go back to his room

“Price~” You sung out while leaning on your bedroom door into the dark hallway

“I know you’re there~” you continued

“John.” You deadpanned

Instantly price comes out from the shadows with his boots and coat in hand, looking guilty as ever

“Baby-“ Price tried to plead

“Don’t baby me, get yo ass in here” you said while moving out the way to make room for price to walk in

Price slowly walks in and you close the door behind you

“NOW WHAT DID I TELL YOU ABOUT COMING INTO MY HOUSE LATE AT NIGHT LIKE YOU AINT GOT NO TYPE OF SENSE” you yelled out

“Y/n-“ Price tried to talk but was cut out

“NO!” You continued to tell price about himself

The Next Door Neighbors

“Seems like we had captain out too late again” Ghost says as he hears you yelling at price

“DONT GET FUCKED UP JOHN!” Alejandro faintly heard while walking towards his bedroom chuckling

“You owe me $5 bucks” Soap says to ghost while he listened to you telling John about himself

“AND YO TEAM CAN GET FUCKED UP TOO I DONT CARE” Everyone heard you and chuckled to themselves, even your son.

[meshla-cyarika]

Memories

Pairing: Cal Kestis x gn!reader

Word count: 204

Tags/warnings: fluff, established relationship

Summary: you recall the memories you have of your lover cal, because it's all you have left of him.

A/N: It's short and rubbish, but I couldn't get this idea out of my head.

--------‐-----------------------------------------

You remember alot of things about Cal Kestis. You remember how he was the first person on Bracca you laid eyes on when you ended up there, the both of you only being fifteen years old. You remember how you would stutter everytime he talked to you, whilst you were too busy focusing on how soft his lips would feel agaisnt your own. You remember the flustered mutual confession of desire for one another. You remember how the only time you would feel safe on the scarpyard planet was in the sanctuary of his arms in the confinement of his single bunk.

And you remember when the Inquistors came, killed the man Cal and yourself considered as a father figure and nearly killed Cal after he revealed himself to be a Jedi...You remember how you were left to pick up the remaining pieces of your life and abandon the planet you considered as your home for the past three years.

But now, five years after the events on Bracca took place, you realise you dont need to cling so desperately onto your fading memories, when the very person who caused some of your most happiest moments now stands infront of you once again.

"....Cal?"

[justvibbingmokka]

This is how I imagine humain Retep (or Reese ) and how he met Y/N. I can imagine him with a hooked nose, probably broken in the past.

For Y/N, I tried to make their gender as neutral as possible, so that anyone can imagine themselves in their place.

[akiratoro420]

This is for! @eddies-hid3out

As per request of the plus sized y/n n Eddie

Pls comment! And lemme know what u wanna see next!

[sentimentalkeyboard]

𝐄𝐝𝐠𝐞 𝐎𝐟 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠.

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝐆𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐜, 𝐕𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐞, 𝐇𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐫 𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐢𝐜.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐇𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐫 𝐨𝐫 𝐓𝐨𝐱𝐢𝐜 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐝, 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐀𝐮𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬 𝟏𝟔+.

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬: @lordfreg @sweaterrat @startheimpactfangirl @smolbread1

♥Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ♥ ♥Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ♥

The thick, cool bedsheets seemed to do nothing to help the ever-present heat over your body. Tossing and turns filled the night since the moment you laid in your bed.

It didn't help that you could hear everything. Your heartbeat, the large grandfather clock in the hallway ticking by the seconds, and chiming what you counted as two times already, indicating it was Two A.M by this point, probably three soon.

You rolled over onto your back, a hand raised over your eyes and shielding them from whatever light of the moon peeked through the large, crimson curtains pulled over the windows.

You take slow breaths in and out, feeling the way your chest rises with each heartbeat pounding against your ribcage. The feeling would almost be calming, your eyes almost closing and body relaxing into the soft mattress, that felt like it would swallow you whole with how deep you had sunken into it.

It seemed sleep would finally be granted to you until you heard that damn clock chime.

Three A.M. was now upon you.

Ding

The first chime went, causing some odd sensation to flood your body, like some sort of forgotten nostalgia your brain was triggered by.

Ding

The next one made your ears begin to ring, the heartbeat nearly throbbing into your eardrums, and yet- you were at some sort of twisted peace with it all, only removing your arms from your eyes, but you kept them closed.

Ding

The ringing began to sound more formed, beginning to drop in and out at certain places. It was starting to sound like the beginning of a song.

Ding

The final ring of the clock and your eyes begin to flutter open, met with a dimly lit room now. Candles covered the room, splayed out on drawers and the marble floor.

The bat never stopped, only getting louder as a piercing sound of a synthesizer rang in your brain along with the manipulated sound of your heartbeat turned into a song for it to hum along with, lifting yourself up to look around.

It was the same, spacious room of the old Victorian house - and yet it wasn't. It was older built now. A fuzzy aesthetically filter seemed to be in your eyes, yet you couldn't rub it away like stray tears or lashes were blocking your vision.

It was like an 80s horror movie or a music video almost, like fuzzy static, hung in the way of your pupils from seeing anything clearly.

Cob webs littered corners of every shelf and ceiling and thick layers of glittery silver dust covered every place, the gold light of candles reflecting off of it, giving it that haunting aura that made a chill run over your spine and up your arms and neck.

You should be frightened. You should be freaking out, scared out if your mind, rushing back under the safety of covers and screaming at yourself to wakeup from this hellish nightmare as music seemed to strum in your head, almost making it pound in agony.

And yet you weren't afraid. Shedding the covers from yourself as the silk nightgown you wore hung loosely over your body, hanging off of your shoulder and leaving it bare. Funny, you don't remember putting such a thing on. You felt calm, more curious than anything, and a need to discover more of this unworldly place.

Your life is the same. Day after day.

That haunting voice of a man sang softly into the back of your brain, breathing down your neck almost, yet no one was there.

The voice was so quiet, yet so loud. Like a being had hidden itself into your head, refusing to leave as the song lulled you, pulling you somewhere. It wanted you out of the safety of your room.

Everything that you do. You do the same old way.

Your feet moved on their own almost, walking to the large, oak door with the strangest carvings and sings in them you didn't remember being there before, making you tilt your head curiously, shoving it open with all the strength you had, pushing your weight against it.

You were met with a long hallway, full off many doors all closed shut, silver and gold keys in the doorknobs, and yet you found no desire to test and try every single one. In face, your eyes trained on the last one down the dark hallway, the dim lights from inside the opened door were calling to you, that siren song was pulling you there.

I can show you the world, in a different light.

You followed slowly, one foot dragging along the other against the carpet that you could barely see over the thick silver fog that hung low, kicking it up with each step you took to see the red and gold rug beneath your feet.

The candles over barely helped light up the place, the pictures on the walls you could barely make out. The figure in them seemed to be the same person eveytime- unaware of the way the painted eyes seemed to watch you, like a predator awaiting its innocent pray at any moment.

Keep your heart to yourself. Give your soul to the night.

You could almost feel the way your eyes felt like they were about to pop out of your skull as this siren-like voice belted, calling you like some deserpate lovesick daydream. It sounded desperate, heartbroken, it wants, it desires, and here you are, running to it.

Come to me when you're lonely...

Everything in you was telling you to stop, hold your head, and shriek in agony for it all to stop, let this nightmare end finally... But you had no desire to, like a lazy sensation was keeping you from doing it, nearing the door everstep, starting to hear the voice become its own, not clawing and whispering in the folds of your brain anymore, but echoing from inside the room you awaited to step into anxiously.

Come to me when you need something new...

You swallowed the thick saliva stuck in the back kf your throat, almost tasting metallic and some burning after sensation scratching your poor throat, finally opening your mouth to breath

The smell of dust and a sickly scent filling your lungs as soon as you took in a sharp shaky breath, hearing your breathing echo along with the sing as if it was now apart of it, the voice flowing with it.

Come to me when you're restless. It's as if it knew what was going on with you, what had been happening to you only moments before. Like it watched you from the moment you stepped foot into this new home of yours, ever since the time you were strangely welcomed by everyone in the small town only just earlier today, it knew. It saw everything.

Cause I've got something just for you... Just for you.

The second you're walking in this forever extending hallway, the next your right in front of this door, vision blocked by a few red and crimson pearls handing from the doorway. You slowly push them away to your sides as you step in, seeing the room.

It's a bedroom - a very large one at that. The bed that was right in the middle was covered by silk red curtains, torn up and tangled with messy bedsheets that strung across the floor and bed, along with ripped pillows, the pure white feathers from them reflected off the shiny black floor.

The carved wood of the bed frame was littered with scratches and bitemarks, like someone had thrown a fit and destroyed their bedroom, as drawers and shelves were fallen Ono the ground, broken, mirror shattered and glass strewn onto the ground. Books were shredded and pages torn out as well, along with the scratches and cracks of the burgundy wall.

All of it was obviously a threat. A danger to you, anything in this place could want to hurt you right now, and this was the proof. But you couldn't run. You didn't want to. You wanted to find this voice. You wanted to see who it was who had placed you under their trance, made you a puppet on a string as they pulled you along by their finger.

You stepped over glass, over pages of letters, and poor massacred books, unbothered by the dangers of when setting foot on them.

You could see who was laying on the bed, their body hidden by the curtains. Only one leg lazily hanging from the ledge, bobbing and kicking with the beat of the sing that still tangled itself into your mind. The guitar riffs, the ringing trumpets, all of it, stinging and burning every inch of your head.

Your eyes still kept strained on the being lying in the messy bed, your heart nearly stopping as a a pale hand made itself apparent from behind the curtains, a dress shirt cuff lazily unbutton around the boney wrist of this person made you gulp quietly. You weren't sure why now you were beginning to feel afraid. Now that you were finally in the room and watching this hand carefully, it was already only a few feet from the bed as you continued to walk.

The hand made an urging motion, moving its black clawed finger for you to come closer. Come to the bedside now. You couldn't say no, you couldn't move - even if you wanted to. You were still a puppet, uner this masters hold. You were powerless.

Come to me when you're lonely...

You fought back every sense in you that wanted to so badly tear the curtains away to see who it was, seeing as you were gaining your own mind once again, feeling the impending dread pool deep in your stomach, almost making a sickening feeling ache in the back of your throat.

Come to me when you need something new...

You saw all of the body but their face, the lazy, sprawled out position on the bed, the one hand they hadn't used tangled in a mess of long, thick, black curly hair that laid open and out on the bed.

The dress shirt strings were pulled loose to reveal the pale, almost blue chest of the figure, scars, and scratches adorning it.

They wore tight black dress pants as well, only bothering just a bit with the high-heeled boots they wore on the silk sheets as well- but you had better problems to worry about.

Come to me, whe you're restless...

The males voice sung, watching his chest raise and lower with each hum of his hauntingly beautiful voice. You found yourself begging to lean in, hands gripping the beds covers as your eyes slowly began to close before you could see the face. All you remembered before you were met with the black of your eyelids were the cold, dead, glowing eyes that watched you half lidded dreamily, lovesick almost.

You only leaned in a bit, your body freezing that way as you awaited something to happen - not sure what exactly.

Until you felt a cold hand brushing against your bare shoulder, making your breath hitch for a second as he trailed up your neck, pausing their for a second as you felt his claws gently prick against your skin, making you felt like your blood ran cold as ice.

He pulled away a few stray bits of your hair, his hand holding the crook of your neck while you sensed he lifted himself up into a sitted position, face mere inches from yours.

Cause I've got something just for you...

As he sang the words, you could feel his icy breath against your face, his nose brushing against yours.

The anticipation of everything made your heartbeat quicken, breathing had stopped minutes ago as her hands gripped the bedsheets tightly, waiting for something to happen blindly as your eyes were still closed, refusing to open to mater how hard you tried.

Just for you.

As he screamed the words, you could feel the ends of his lips brush against yours, sharing the same sharp breath you did in that moment... Until your eyes shot open.

You bolted upright immediately in your bed, sweat pooling from your forehead and down your face, as you clutched her pajama shirt terrified.

Head snapping all around the room - your room, the one you remembered actually staying in, and the real room you had moved into. No candles, cobweb, weird door - no music - nothing. Just your sharp inhales and shaky exhales filled the dark room.

Your throat ached and head was in agony, theobbing back running g from your head to your stomach, making you groan as a hand found its way to your forehead, rubbing it tiredly.

Nightmare. That's all it was. It was a very vivid, horrible nightmare.

It felt so real, but then again, you had rare nightmares in your adulthood, so it could just be something new to you all over again- that's all you could think, nothing else made sense.

Blinking away the fear - and thankfully, your clear vision once more - you realized you were safe, in the safety of your bed, and daytime would be nearing soon enough.

You fixed the shirt you had worn back onto your shoulder - seemingly must have fallen whilst hour tossing and turning.

Would you get good sleep? He'll no, we're you tired? Most deifinetly. The con of such a weird dream was that you were exhausted, rubbing your eyes and hoping the pounding headache would dull enough for you to lay down finally.

You went to lick your dry lips nervously, fixing the sweaty hair on your temples and neck and pulling them back to let some cool air relieve the horrible heat - but you stopped.

Your tongue was met with small metallic taste, only just a bit, but enough to cause concern. You quickly press two fingers to your bottom lip, pulling back to see a small smudge of crimson blood, making your brows furrow in confusion.

You chalked it up to dry air- you were hot at the moment, so it could simply be cracked lips- that's at least what you had to assume and repeat to yourself so you wouldn't begin pancking again, not when you were so close to a sweet slumber.

You just repeated the affirmations as you slowly pressed your head to the pillow, feeling your head sink into the softness, and your boy relaxing one final time, breathing slowing as you just repeated every worry in your mind until your brain slowed. Sleep finally releasing you from your fears.

And yet, as you slipped away back into unconsciousness, you almost felt like you could still hear that music, far off and fading out like an outdoor to a song- so faint you could barely register it, before you had fallen asleep...

[daenadraws]

Part 10.5

(If you listen closely, he's growling...)

[justladders]

a friend very threateningly told me "I will baby talk your springtrap" so

[reindeergames3000]

The girl who tried

"Wake up! It's half past six, don't prove your deadbeat father's words to be true, don't be a disappointment" Lying on the bed, Preesha stared aimlessly at the ceiling, as her mother's usual rant flowed through her ears. She had been long awake, even before the sun rays had filtered through her window pane illuminating her room, in perfect contrast to the darkness that filled her heart. The clear morning sky with only a few fragments of clouds was battling with her tears to reflect itself on her retina, which blurred her vision.

She felt a suffocating weight on her chest, a pain piercing her heart and unlike the sky, her mind was cloudy, like the perfect storm. The storm that promised pain and misery, the storm that uprooted everyone's life. The storm that was surely followed by a rainbow but no one left to appreciate it. She was having a hard time and it was not a phase like her 'friends' had referred to. She felt lonely, deserted and worthless. It took her everything to drag herself off of her bed to face her mother, not even caring about brushing her teeth, it seemed pointless.

After what felt like counting on stars except for the fact that she had no one she could count on, she was finally free from the morning chores. The breakfast was cooked, the dishes were done and in a family of three members, two plates were presented at the dining table.

Preesha, who once loved eating, ignoring her mother's constant taunts about how she was getting fat and bulky, stayed away from food. The dopamine that was released in her body relishing her favourite cuisines did not excite her much these days, she had lost half of her weight, hollow, sunken eyes with prominent dark circles, chapped lips and skin so dry, that it had started to shed off, but only if anyone noticed. Her sibling was way too young to understand all this while her mother was so caught up in her own bubble of grief that she failed to notice her own daughter's longing, lifeless eyes.

She fell on the bed with a thud, as she grabbed her duvet to cover herself completely, curling up as if she was shielding herself from her intrusive thoughts. Her mind ran wild and though her eyes were dry, her heart wailed, it screamed silently, even breathing seemed hurtful. Each heart beat was excruciatingly painful, each gasp for air felt like a torture to her lungs, each pulse in her vain seemingly added a load of burden upon her worn out soul.She wanted to end this, she wanted peace, it was getting overwhelming to live in a world where she did not feel appreciated, a world where she was casted aside as if a punctured tin can, deserted by her father, treated like a burden by her mother, she felt uncared, unloved. Even the closest of her friends failed to understand her, maybe they never cared, maybe she had always been delusional, believing she was wanted. She should have known that her existence was just a mere burden, no one would have cared she disappeared or better, died. She felt like an obligation that everyone just had to fulfil, like paperwork that nobody enjoyed doing, but they had to do it, like a job, a duty.She stumbled upon something as she made her way to the drawer, deserting her bed ridden with piles of clothes, loads of laundry, the walls of her room had scribbling all over, 'Papa', 'Mumma' and 'Preesha' 'Happy family', the scribbling said.

A section of her white painted wall had a bit of red to it, the red which flowed through her veins, the red which caused her misery, draining that red, she knew would end her misery.She picked up the object that made her steps falter, it was her bunny, her Toto as she and her father decided to call in while he was still there beside her. Thebunny was a precious relic to her, she had once loved it dearly but as she crossed her adolescence, Toto was just another stuffed toy kept in her drawer that she hardly opened. Toto reminded her of herself. It reminded her of her childhood days, the days where laughing did not require any reason unlike the present where even tickles fail to crack her up.

She compared herself to Toto, who was once loved but now deserted, a friend whom without holding close, the goddess of sleep never visited her, but now a toy hardly dreamt about. She hugged it closer to her chest as a sob erupted from her throat, loud and distinct followed by her helpless scream for relief. She wailed her eyes out, shrieked with all the air in her lungs, and after she had no energy left in her vocal chords, she rocked herself back and forth with her knees folded up close to her chest and her hands hugging her knees. All the memories started to play like a movie in her head, from her earliest giggle to her recent grief, from the memories about the coffee she and her friends shared to the memories she did not dare to share with her friends, from her father's loving pats to her mother's sweetest kisses, she started shivering, her body started to heat up, her voice seemed to have frozen, her limbs started burning, loud voices started to ring in her head, "YOU'RE WORTHLESS" "NO ONE LIKES YOU" "DISAPPOINTMENT" "UGLY" UNWORTHY ""UNGRATEFUL" she felt lifeless but her heart was still beating, she wanted to stop it, put her heart to rest, she needed to end this, she had to end this, she will end this.

With Toto tightly clutched close to her heart as if assuring herself that there was someone listening to her heartbeats, she aimed for the upper drawer, the one with the magical weapon that would end her misery. The one with a blade sharp enough to drain her out of the red that caused this pain. Glancing one last time at the door of her room, she used the weapon on her pulsating vein not before shifting her eyes to watch herself for the last time in the mirror, she felt a warm liquid gushing through her wrist as she fell lifeless on the floor to sleep but this time with Toto clutched beneath her arms to summon the Goddess of slumber for a good lifelong sleep. She finally felt at peace as the voices fell still and her heart paced down.

[dreadheadmadi]

“Reader has black hair and blue eyes-“

THEN ITS NOT AN X READER!!???

Edit below cut

Hey guys, so when I made this post, I was extremely frustrated and annoyed. Now that I’m way more mellowed out and had the chance to read a lot of reactions and responses, let me act my age and actually clarify some things.

First, I want to apologize to those who were deeply upset by my post. My post overall was towards those who claim they don’t write for a specific audience, and yet put specific descriptions in their work. There is absolutely NOTHING wrong with adding certain details to your reader, such as gender or body type. The issue comes in when you don’t properly title and tag it as so, or completely ignore it altogether.

If you see my post as an eye opener and want to change up your work, then you have every right to do so, but please do not think that this is an attack or jive directed at you. It’s just that some of us readers want exactly as promised. Like for example, imagine if someone asked if you wanted some fresh fruit they grew themselves. You agree, and when they show up, instead of handing you fruit, they give you a carton of eggs. Now, you might not mind eating eggs, but you were promised fresh fruit, not eggs.

I know some writers have said that they want to be more inclusive in response to my criticism. If that is what you truly want, then by all means, but I cannot stress enough: write what YOU want to write. Do not feel as though you’re being pressured to change what you put out; it’s just a means of how you categorize it.

Thank you to everyone who took the time to read, respond, and engage with my original post. I truly appreciate the perspectives shared, they’ve helped me see things more clearly and refine my thoughts.

[trtlebuns]

Y/n: “would you rather have to share a bed with someone for a night who hadn’t showered in a month?”

Soap: “are you attracted to the person who stinks in the bed with you?”

Ghost:”…are you fr?”

Alejandro: “dude?”

Soap: “a good month of stink is something that could get you going”

Y/n: 😐

Soap: “a month of stink. That’s what I choose”

Y/n: “stink make soap horny”

Inspo: 🐢

[alana-reid-2005]

we all joke about and objectify this man, but do we stop to think how sad his story is? he grew up friendless and ruthlessly bullied for being a literal genius. constantly picked on by his coworkers, and he’s never in on the joke. he’s always being laughed at, never laughed with because no one understands his existentialist humor. he never has plans or places to go on the weekend after work. he goes to work then goes to his lonely home with all his books to keep him company. on occasion, he haunts the chess table at the park or meets with an old professor. no one takes the time to appreciate his weird little quirks. no one took the time to ask him if he was okay after the several traumatic incidents he endured. no one takes care of him because everyone’s too busy leaving. he could be a male model, yet he’s never thought of himself as attractive. when he does find love, he’s brutally stripped of it before he can blink. spencer reid, the lonely genius who learned of love too late and loss too soon.

[katsukiizmoon]

╰┈➤ ꒰🍓💌🌶 ┊Katsuki fucks like he can’t live w out you

『♡』 unprotected sex, spitting in mouth, cum eating, pussy licking, creampie, squirting, f!reader, reader has acrylics, biting

Katsuki fucks like he’s going to die without you. His hands shake despite his rough grip on your hips, yanking you down onto his cock. You gasp and moan every time he does it, fingers desperately searching for something to grip onto.

His mouth finds yours, tongue invading your mouth, like he’s hungry. It’s like he’s trying to devour you. He wants to take your soul and keep it. Make it his- make you his.

“Fuck fuck fuck-“ He gasps, face tingling and shaking with pleasure.

Your pussy is squelching, frothing at the base as slick juices run between the two of you. His thick hand reaches to your jaw, thumb pushing between the plush of your lips.

He pries your mouth open and spits, a long string of saliva drizzling into your mouth. Your head throws back against the mattress and you squeal. The coil in your stomach begins to grow taut.

Your hand reaches to blond hair, tugging him lower and you push his spit back into his mouth with your tongue. He groans into the kiss before pulling back.

Katsuki snatches a pillow from his side of the bed, hooking his arm under your knees to lift your ass. It’s placed under your lower back and he shoves your knees to your shoulders, folding you in half.

The angle makes your eyes roll to the back of your head. Thick, hot, heavy dick slamming into you with long strokes. He’s got to be in your stomach- you can feel it. The head pushes against the spongey spot inside you and squirt gushes from your pussy onto the both of you.

���Give it to me, y’feel like- oh-“ Katsuki babbles, watching you frantically nod your head.

Your pussy clenches around him and he’s on cloud nine. Acrylic nails dig into his shoulders, your teeth clamp down on the side of his throat. It’s raw- needy and desperate.

He can’t get enough of you. Stray hair sticks to the side of his face, sweat beads at the nape of his neck. His muscles are almost sore from fucking into your tight cunt. And he can’t stop.

He’s addicted. You begin rambling between moans and gasps, telling him filthy things. How he’s god, that you’re in love with him, no one’s gonna ever compare. And the coil in your tummy snaps.

Because he presses his cock against that special spot and stays. As much as it pains him he doesn’t move, waiting. And you explode, clear juice spurting from your pussy and all over his cock and pillow.

Your head throws back and you scream, tears beginning to form in the corners of your eyes. He’s the closest to heaven he’ll ever be when you tell him to cum inside you.

And god, he does. His fingers dig into the plush of your thigh and he clamps his jaw, teeth marking your shoulder. His hips stutter and he slams his length into you. His entire body goes taught and he fills you. Katsuki starts whining at the thought of what he’s doing.

He can feel his cock head pressed against your cervix now. If there was a way, he’d go further. But for now his cum fills your pussy, drenching the inside of your walls. He pushes your hips up.

“Don’t let it out, fuck- don’t.” Katsuki rasps, fingers running through his hair to move it out of the way.

He laps at your pussy and you squirm in his grip. He’s slurping his own cum out of you like it’s his last meal on this god forsaken earth. Licking at the squirt on your ass, his white ropes, sucking at your clit. You buck up and fuck into his mouth a bit, trying to ride his tongue and escape all the same.

You cum like that, shaking and writhing. He leaves a smack to your ass and shoves his cock back into you, fucking the cum that’s left back in. He’s got one more in him.

You get flipped over to your chest, where his cock is bullying that same spot again. And you just can’t stop squirting. It’s everywhere. The bed is soaked, you’re soaked, he’s soaked.

He finishes in you again after you’re drooling all over the bed and desperately begging for it. He thinks about another round. He doesn’t know how long he can go without you.

Cause to him you put the stars in the sky and your pussy tastes better than water to a man dying of dehydration.