#zero ideas head empty

[apheliia]

guys what flavor of deranged should the next abundance oc be

[caterpillarinacave]

y’all I am losing my mind

[normiematsu]

failgirl oc concept. tries to appear normie passing but is actually really extremely into anime to the point she would fistfight someone for disrespecting her favs. constantly spending all her money on crane machines but always walks away empty handed. never keeps up with dyeing her roots but always complains about them anyway. needs a giant bag or backpack at all times to be Prepared™. is this anything

[hb-writes]

Totally ridiculous but every time Nicki (Jenny’s mom/ Jake’s ex) shows up in one tree hill, my immediate thought is that she’s a vampire.

[hiding-in-the-vault]

i made a few dsmp trainer cards/sprites when i did more custom spritework. i dont remember most of the teams tho. i think c!wilbur would have a braviary

OOhh that's so cool!! :0 I bet they looked great!

Braviary for cwilbur amuses me for multiple reasons. I support it TvT

[rocker-socks]

Writing a Batfam story that involves tales (unironically think Bratz Kidz Fairy Tales) and while i have Tim and Damian down (Rapunzel and Cinderella respectively, with changes made for Cinderella to be more appropriate for Damian) i am struggling so hard coming up with the others so if anyone has ideas i would be So Appreciative

[peachesofteal]

Raspberry Girl Previous + masterlist + AO3 Simon Riley/female reader CW: 18+ daddy kink, sickfic, SFW, requested.

Mara is surprised to see him. "Hey Captain Riley."

He nods. “She in the back?” The knit between her eyebrows is quizzical, and she shakes her head.

“What? No… she went home. Hours ago. Said she didn’t feel well.” He doesn’t bother to school his expression into neutrality, and she turns sheepish, like somehow she’s the one in trouble now. “I told her to call you. She was nearly falling asleep back there. Almost face planted in the batter of these cookies.” She points to an artfully arranged tower of chocolate chip cookies, their little placard labeling them as ‘brown butter’. What that means, he’s not sure. 

“How long ago did she leave?” He had no idea you were sick. Worse, you didn’t say anything. You lied by omission, sending your usual morning text messages, your before lunch check in with zero mention of feeling unwell. 

He’s not angry with you, because he understands you. This is uneven footing, new territory, a lot to learn for his little fawn. You’re finding your way in this new life, and he has plenty of time.

 A learning experience, that’s all this is. 

“Like… an hour ago? Maybe two?” A frown tugs his lips towards his chin. 

“Her car is still in the lot.” 

“Oh yeah… she walked.” Walked? You walked? 

Your ass is going to be sore for a week. 

There’s a queue forming behind him, so he steps back, gives her a parting glance before turning to leave. “Thanks Mara.” 

“Tell her I hope she feels better!” 

You live on the fourth floor. The elevator in your building is busted, along with the front door’s lock, and there are no cameras, no security, nothing stopping anyone from walking inside. 

Just his baby in a fourth floor apartment with a measly deadbolt and chain. 

You’ll be so much happier at home with him.

It takes three tries for you to come to the door, and when you find him on the other side, your expression splits in two, one side saturated with relief, the other, buzzing with nerves, but somehow still half asleep. 

“H-hi.” You croak, sweating and shivering, standing there in only a t-shirt. 

Miserable. You look miserable. 

“Sweet girl,” he breathes, stepping inside, immediately placing the back of his hand to your forehead, trailing down your chin to find your pulse fluttering beneath your jaw. It’s elevated, and you’re burning up, tears gathering on your waterline, threatening to fall.

"D-daddy," you hiccup, trembling, reaching for him just as he pulls you into his chest with a palm against your neck, rubbing circles at your nape as he takes a quick look around. He’s never been inside your apartment before, though he’s been tempted multiple times, made the trip to your building often, ensuring you’re home safe, watching the comings and goings of others who live here, looking for any red flags or reasons for immediate concern. He’s inspected empty units, tested the standard locks, checked for mold and mildew. It’s adequate, but your own flat is too cramped, and he knows you feel boxed in. 

"I'm here baby, I'm here. Let me look at you." He tips your chin up and moves into your line of sight, glassy, glazed eyes tracking him the whole way. "Have you seen a doctor?”

“No,” you sniffle, immediately planting your face back into his sternum, “’s just a cold.” 

“You don’t get a fever with a cold sweetheart. Have you taken anything?” He doesn't panic. It's not in his programming, not a part of his reality but seeing you like this, in distress, suffering, is starting to rewire long dormant standards.

“Don’t have a fever.” There’s a short hallway across the living room, two doors on either end, one he assumes is your bedroom, and he starts moving that way, keeping you tucked against him. “I took some naproxen.” You’re floating along with his direction without a single peep, barely recognizing where you are when he sits you down on the edge of your bed. 

First things first. He has to get you out of these clothes and into something dry. “This has to come off baby girl, it’s wet.” 

“Wet?” You’re barely holding yourself up, and he probably only has a few minutes before you’re out. 

“Your body is trying to regulate it's temperature, so you've been sweating.” He finds pajamas in the top drawer of your dresser, lips rolling into a smile as he unfurls the t-shirt. “Gremlins?” You throw him a squinty glare. 

“It’s a good movie.” He brushes his lips across your forehead, tasting the slick of salt before pulling away and tapping your shoulders. 

“Arms up.” You oblige without question, the trust that sometimes gets lost in this newfound dance shining through brilliantly. His hands brush against your ribs, your belly as he slides them beneath the hem of your shirt and tries not to wince at the scorching temperature of your skin. “Good girl. Don’t want you going back to sleep all sweaty do we?” He quickly pats the sheets, relieved to find them dry. 

“No daddy.” Such a sweet girl. You roll instinctively, burrowing in the mound of things in your bed, knees curling up towards your belly. There are at least three different colored fuzzy blankets in your bed, six pillows, and a stuffed cat of some kind, something about it vaguely familiar but difficult to place. A crumpled notebook with loopy handwriting and small drawings adorning the pages is wedged beneath your hip, and there’s a kindle sitting on the other side along with an empty water bottle. The frame itself has a shelf at the head of the bed, and it’s lined with stuff… a small lamp, a ceramic cupcake, a collection of seashells, chapstick, lotion, an empty mug, a glowing mushroom, along with two pairs of glasses and a few candles. It’s clear this is your space, where you’re safe and comfortable, a nest of your own making, a place just for you, and it’s fitting, all of it. Each little piece is perfect just like you. 

He lets you sleep while he cleans and refills your water bottle, finds the naproxen and your towels, pulling a washcloth out so he can run it under cold water for your head. You definitely have a fever, but if you can break it on your own there’s no reason to take you to a doctor. Time will tell, but if it gets worse, you’ll have to go immediately. 

Tally marks for today’s transgressions sit quietly on a slate in the back of his mind for far later, satisfying realization settling in against his soul. You’ve earned a spanking, and stricter rules. 

It’s a fine line. He doesn’t punish for the sake of punishing, there’s nothing good in it for him, or you, but he will punish you for things like this, things that put you in harms way, things like not telling him you’re sick and in need of help. Things like fucking walking ten blocks home. He’ll punish you for stepping outside a boundary, or failing to follow a rule, all of it a double edged sword, one he wields delicately, because often, punishments come with their own rewards, whether they be emotional or physical.

You rouse a bit when he comes back, making little sounds as he props you up to take more medicine, dabs the cold washcloth around your face, cooling you down and wiping some of the stale sweat away. He smooths a palm over your forehead. “We’re going to have a long talk about rules when you’re feeling better.” 

“Mmkay.” You press your nose into his neck. “Are you going to lay with me?” He kisses your temple. 

“In a little bit, I have some work to take care of. Close your eyes for now.” You nuzzle down into the mattress against his thigh and he can’t resist placing his hand atop your head, holding you there, your cheek bleeding heat through his pants, warm, wet breath building a damp spot. 

“But you’ll be here?” You mumble it, and like you’re afraid the answer will be no, you wrap an arm around the width of his thigh. He chuckles. 

“I’ll be right here.” 

[bywons]

JUST MARRIED 、 psh

𝗔𝗟𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗡𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗩𝗘𝗟𝗬────𝖽𝗋𝗎𝗇𝗄 𝗈𝗋 𝗇𝗈𝗍, 𝗌𝗎𝗇𝗀𝗁𝗈𝗈𝗇 𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗁𝖾𝖾𝗅𝗌 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎

❪ 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐂𝒾𝐒 ❫ ｡ 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝖻𝖺𝖽!𝗉𝗌𝗁 𝗑 𝖿!𝗋 1OO3wc 𖥔 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿 ──𝗰𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 drinking 贅沢 ／ 𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐙𝐈𝐍𝐄

★REBLOGPLEASE

“baby, please please,” sunghoon mumbles gibberish as he struggles to stand still, “it’s such a good idea, just hear me out!”

under the heavy influence of alcohol and the aftermath of some questionable yet impressive breakdancing at your friend’s wedding, sunghoon now stands flushed and breathless—face red, tie askew, a few shirt buttons undone. his tuxedo is bundled in your arms, and his hands are on your shoulders, trying to stabilize himself.

“we n-need to get married and—” hiccup “and, and m-move in—” hiccup “—will- will be the best hubby f-for you” hiccup

sunghoon grips your shoulders tighter, his weight tipping dangerously forward every time he leans in, eyes half-lidded with determination and booze-fueled affection. his lips purse in slow motion, aiming clumsily for yours.

you push a hand firmly against his chest. “nope. not happening.”

“my wife,” he whines, stumbling back a few steps on the empty road in front of the event, before striding towards you again, “you hurt me, i r-really need you!”

“sunghoon, the cab will be here any minute—”

you couldn’t even finish your sentence as sunghoon slumps his whole body weight over you, gathering you into a bear hug.

somehow, you manage to create a fair space between the two of you. pressing your hands on his chest, you try to push back as sunghoon wraps his arms around your waist and rests his head on your shoulders.

“i love you,” he barely makes coherent sentences, snuggling his face at the crook of your neck, his lips gently pressing against it, “please marry me. we could elope. vegas. tomorrow.”

you laugh, something between blushing, humour and your heart swelling up to his words. you muster all your strength and push him until he’s just one arm away.

“i swear to god,” you sigh, trying to pry him off as his tux almost slips away from your hold, “you will wake up with zero memory tomorrow morning.”

“i don’t need memory,” sunghoon pouts again, chuckling out loud as he comes closer to you again, stumbling and swaying in his steps as he cups your face, “my body knows, my lips .. know.”

before you can say anything, he leans in and connects his lips with yours in the sloppiest, neediest kiss ever.

your brain short circuits.

his mouth is warm and clumsy, moving with unplanned precision against yours than he usually has— this is all desperation and tipsy affection. he hiccups once, twice into the kiss, chuckling before reconnecting his lips with yours. you feel your knees becoming weaker.

you try to push him away but he only leans in even more, humming into the kiss like he has been craving this all night. he slides his hand up your back, pressing you impossibly close to him, both his hands anchoring to your body.

he pulls back just a little, lips brushing yours, eyes fluttering. “you taste like forever,” he whispers, so seriously that your chest tightens despite the absurdity.

“sunghoon, there are still people here—” you gasp, pulling him back by his raven hair. he winces as the pull softly, but refuses to let you go.

“there’s no one here but us and destiny,” he breathes, and kisses you again before you can even roll your eyes.

this time the kiss is slower, softer, he tilts his head to kiss you deeper, his hands soon finding your cheeks. although he reeked of alcohol still, you couldn’t shake him away. you gasp softly as he tilts his head, deepening it—his mouth opening against yours with such yearning, you nearly forget where you are. his lips trail down to your jaw for a second, then back up, brushing teasingly slow before capturing your bottom lip again with a sigh.

“sunghoon,” you whisper against him, dizzy, drunk in love as well. but sunghoon only hums against your lips, and kisses them soft. slow. longer and lingering, blushing like he’s kissing for the first time.

“enough now,” you pant for breath as he pulls away, hitting his chest, “we have to go— what are you doing?��

sunghoon suddenly drops down on his knees. like, actually drops, hard, on the pavement outside the wedding venue with flickering lights still on.

you gape, “oh my god, ‘hoon! get up, you’re ruining your pants!”

“no!” he shouts, well, slurs incoherently while his arms wrap around your waist, “this is it. i have waited for this and i will say it.”

“get up—”

“y/n,” he cuts you off, dramatically clutching at his chest like he’s been shot. “i am so, so in love with you. like there is nothing in this world i wouldn’t do for you and—”

“oh my god.”

he takes a deep breath, then grabs your hand in both of his, pressing it to his heart. “marry me,” he says, eyes shiny with sincerity and tequila. “please. i’ll be so good. i’ll do the dishes. i’ll learn to cook. i’ll stop trying to do flips at weddings. probably.”

“you’re so drunk,” you try to lean in, eyes pricking with tears of both laughter and yearning.

“but I’m serious,” he insists, eyes locking onto yours like they’re the only steady thing in his spinning world. “i want to marry you. tonight. tomorrow. whenever. just—say yes. please, baby, please.”

“sunghoon, baby,” you sigh, controlling your chuckle as you start to caress his neck and face, “get up.”

“if i—” hiccup “get up, will you marry me?” sunghoon pouts.

“yes!” you almost shout, a little laughter escaping you. your heart aches, he is a total mess, drunk to the nose, shit crumples and knees dirty from the pavement as he stands up. but through all of that, you know he means all of it.

“okay,” sunghoon straightens his back, holding your hands, “we are married now. can i kiss my bride?”

you almost cry, tugging softly at his hands, “yes.”

he doesn’t waste no time, immediately capturing your lips in his, pulling you impossibly close again. hands resting on your cheeks, sunghoon truly loves you.

스루 ܃ never lower your standards, if your man doesn’t get on his knees for you, boy next 😹

© bywons, 2025 div ctto —taglist open ! nets. @/k-labels @kflixnet @k-films

[mooninagust]

time to try and not break my laptop while editing

[eden031]

Married life

Dr. Jack Abbot x wife!reader

voilence against healthcare workers (not graphic), fluff, mild angst, Jack Abbot needs a hug

Summary: When Jack‘s wife is it hit by a patient a worried Jack only comes close behind.

Words: 1.1k

A/N: Heyy, so I just finished watching the Pitt and I am in love with Jack Abbot, I already have a few other ideas in my drafts, hope you enjoy this little piece of writing I came up with. I hope you enjoy and disclaimer he might be a bit ooc so please forgive me.

A sigh escaped her lips as she looked at Dana, the ice pack pressed against her cheek.

„Robby wants you to get an x-ray, he thinks you might have broken something.“ Dana said as the bustle of the ED continued around them. A loud sigh escaped her as she looked at the charge nurse.

„Can I even get out of that or has he already put me in line for one?“ she asked, a low hiss escaping her as she pulled away the ice pack, gently touching the forming bruise on her face, the skin was hot and she knew that the possibility of her having a broken bone was not zero, she was a doctor as well after all.

„He already put you in line for one,“ she paused, „You can be glad Whitaker caught you, otherwise he would have made you get a CT as well.“ Dana smirked slightly as she grumbled.

A patient had hit her, full force in the face. He had not even been agitated before, he had nodded and listened, been very friendly and attentive of what she told him, but after she had told him that he would have to stay in hospital for observation he had lashed out.

„Do you want me to call Jack?“ Dana asked, she froze at the question, Santos and Whitaker had stopped talking at the mention of her husband‘s name. Only a few people knew she was married to Jack Abbot, there were multiple reasons for that, however one of the biggest was that it was funny to leave people guessing. She knew there was a betting pool regarding her relationship status and it looked like that pool would soon be empty.

„Don‘t you fucking dare, Dana.“ she hissed under her breath, she knew that Jack would already lose his shit when he saw her later when she came back home from her shift. “It‘s his day off, he shouldn‘t have to worry about me getting punched by some bastard.“ she pushed her ice pack back on her cheek, feeling the sting of the cold stronger than before.

Suddenly the staff door swung open, hitting the wall loudly, a loud groan escaped her as she saw her husband standing in the doorway. He looked around and stalked towards the nurses‘ station, he was in civilian clothes, cargo pants and a black t-shirt that looked like it was definitely the one that said army vet on the back of it.

“What are you doing here?“ she asked before Dana was able to say anything. From the corner of her eye she could see that Santos and Whitaker had moved in closer, probably to get a listen in on the conversation.

„Robby called me, told me that a patient hit you.“ Jack was now standing beside her, his hand was twitching, she knew that it was stressing him out, throwing caution to the wind she gently took his hand with her free one.

„It‘s okay, I am doing fine.“ she sighed as she squeezed his hand, smiling up at him from where she was sitting.

„Did you hit your head when you fell?“ he asked, an annoyed sigh escaped her as the question came from him.

„Jack, I am fine! I didn‘t hit the ground, Whitaker caught me.“ she explained as she looked over at where Santos and Whitaker were standing. Jack followed her gaze and saw Whitaker looking at them, he gave him a double thumbs up, then turned back to her.

„We are going home after your x-ray.“

—————————-

Jack had been true to his word; they had actually gone home after her x-ray, nothing broken, surprisingly enough. Now she sat on the sofa, another ice pack on her face, half laying on Jack‘s stomach, half leaning against the couch. She could hear the police scanner crackling in the background of their living room.

„Mind if I order take out?“ Jack muttered as he continued to rub his stump. She let out a laugh, wincing as her cheek hurt a lot more again.

„Since when do I mind take out, Jack?“ she nuzzled her face into his stomach, the soft fabric of the shift warm against her face. A small smile on her lips as she thought that their entire relationship had started with take out and sitting in his apartment after a rough shift, even when she had been a resident.

„Don‘t know, Indian or Chinese, or do you want to try that new Thai place two blocks away?“ he asked, pulling out his phone from his pocket. A groan escaped her lips.

„Jack, I don‘t care, just get us something to eat.“ she sighed, not snapping at him, but the decision fatigue was hitting her hard at that moment. Usually she still had some energy left to decide these things, but right now she couldn‘t.

„Alright, Indian it is,“ he muttered, „The usual?“ it was more to confirm than to really ask her about it.

„Please,“ she muttered as she sat up slightly. They would get it delivered today, usually they walked to get it, but today was not the day.

Finally the food arrived, sitting on the floor of the living room at the coffee table they ate, chatting quietly.

„You know I love you, right?“ she asked, glancing at Jack who looked like he just wanted to go to bed.

„Yeah, I know,“ he nodded, looking up at her she could see his face, her heart clenched at the sight, he was gutted. „You know how scared I was when Robby told me you were attacked by a patient?“

„Yeah, sorry. I didn‘t want them to bother you with that,“ she looked back at the samosas sitting in front of her. Guilt settled in her stomach as she looked at him, she knew it freaked him out, and he also knew that it was not the last time she would be attacked by a patient, it would happen again in the future.

„No,“ he shook his head, „I was glad when Robby told me it wasn‘t serious and I was even happier that he called me,“ he gently took her hand over the table. Squeezing it carefully, squeezing it back she smiled at her husband.

„I love you too,“ he whispered, his eyes shimmering in the dim light of the living room, as she looked at him she knew that it was more than that. She knew that look, it had been the one he had given her during their wedding night, when he had held her tightly, trying to make them melt together. It was devotion and admiration, the deep longing he had to be close to her always reflecting in his eyes in moments like this.

[kxsagi]

i have a request (i never know know to begin one) so you know that one tiktok trend where you have two parents and their child. And one if the parents gets one cookie and the child two and the other parent non to see if she child can share imagine that with the blue lock character and their kids (you can write whoever you want) and its always so cute and funny one even started to cry for theirbparent, one took the cookie.of their dad and gave it to the mom and my fav the child straight up gave it to the parent without question

“𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐞”

a/n: miss cath pls never stop slaying with your ideas ❤️

alternated between son, daughter, and unnamed kid

ft. isagi yoichi, itoshi rin, nagi seishiro, mikage reo, chigiri hyoma, karasu tabito, bachira meguru, kaiser michael, shidou ryusei, itoshi sae, ness alexis

isagi yoichi

you and isagi set up the test all excited, hyping up your toddler like, “he’s gonna share, he’s the sweetest!” 

you hand out the cookies – two for baby, one for you, and nothing for isagi. 

your son blinks at the cookies, blinks at isagi, and then immediately places one of his cookies into isagi’s hand without a second thought. like zero hesitation. it’s instinct. 

isagi’s entire soul leaves his body. 

he’s tearing up. you’re tearing up. even the baby is grinning all proud. 

“yoichi, are you crying?” 

“n-no, i mean yes, look at our kid! he’s already a team player!!!” 

he talks about it for weeks. won’t stop showing everyone the video. 

itoshi rin

you had to beg rin to do the trend bc he doesn’t see the point. 

“she’s obviously gonna pick you. you’re her favorite.” (he says it so flatly too.) 

but he finally agrees. 

you hand out the cookies, rin sits there quietly with his empty plate. 

your kid... stares. she stares so hard at rin. 

lips quivering, eyes watering. 

and then she starts sobbing 😭 

full-blown meltdown. 

“no cookie for dada???” she sobs. 

rin freezes. doesn’t know what to do. ends up just picking the kid up and cradling her like, “it’s okay. i don’t need a cookie. don’t cry. please.” 

you’re dying laughing while filming it. 

rin’s just muttering to the baby like, “you’re too sensitive... you get that from your mom.” 

nagi seishiro

honestly, nagi didn’t even realize what was happening. 

you gave him an empty plate and he just sat there like “oh. guess i’m last.” 

meanwhile your kid is eyeing both cookies in front of her like it’s the biggest decision of her life. 

she picks up both cookies. 

and you’re thinking like awww is she gonna share? 

NOPE. 

she gives both cookies to you. 

nagi: 😐 

you: 😭 

baby: 🥰✨ 

nagi just shrugs and lays down with his head in your lap like, “that’s fine. you’re gonna share with me anyway, right?” 

(and you do. bc he looks too cute and pathetic.) 

mikage reo

reo is SO cocky before you even start. 

“our kid loves me too much to leave me with nothing. you’ll see.” 

you’re like okay big shot let’s find out. 

you hand out the cookies and reo instantly starts pouting dramatically. 

your kid is just chilling. happily munching his cookie. not even looking at reo. 

reo fake whines, “what about daddy? daddy’s hungry tooooo~” 

your toddler LAUNCHES a cookie at him like it’s a grenade. 

(he meant to share. he just has zero hand-eye coordination lol.) 

reo catches it mid-air and gasps like he just got proposed to. 

acts like he won an oscar. 

“i’d like to thank my beautiful child for believing in me...” 

you’re laughing so hard you’re snorting. 

chigiri hyoma

chigiri’s super chill about it, just giving you a soft smile when he sees you have a cookie and he doesn’t. 

your kid IMMEDIATELY notices tho. 

like she didn’t even take a bite yet – she sees dad’s empty plate and her little eyebrows furrow all concerned. 

then she hands over a cookie to chigiri with this very solemn, serious face. like it’s a ceremony. 

chigiri plays along, accepts it with both hands like she gave him sacred treasure. 

bows his head a little like he’s receiving a medal. 

you’re sitting there like why are they both so dramatic LMAO. 

cutest thing ever though. you post the video and it goes viral. 

karasu tabito

karasu would try to cheat at first. 

tries to sneak a sad face at the kid to guilt-trip them. 

your kid sees through it IMMEDIATELY. 

literally points at him and goes, “faker.” 😭 

karasu gasps so loud, clutches his chest like he’s been mortally wounded. 

“baby girl, how could you betray me like this?” 

ends up stealing one of the cookies off your plate and running away like a gremlin. 

your toddler thinks it’s hilarious and chases after him. 

the video is just pure chaos. 

bachira meguru

oh this one’s instant. 

bachira pouts exaggeratedly, making big sad eyes. 

your kid just grins all mischievous and feeds him the cookie. 

like literally sticks it into his mouth with his chubby little hands. 

bachira starts laughing mid-bite, which makes your toddler giggle uncontrollably, which makes you laugh too. 

it’s just a big spiral of giggles and crumbs everywhere. 

the purest, happiest family vibes. 

kaiser michael

“what do you mean i don’t get a cookie? i’m the man of the family.” 

very offended before you even start. 

you roll your eyes and hand out the plates. 

your kid, chaotic little gremlin, takes all the cookies. 

and gives both to you. 

kaiser looks so betrayed. 

he’s like “how dare you choose her over me??? i thought we had something special???” 

meanwhile your kid is giggling like “mommy’s the best!” and clinging to your leg. 

kaiser acts all hurt and sulky for five minutes until you shove a cookie in his mouth and give him a kiss. 

then he’s fine again lol. 

shidou ryusei

shidou immediately makes a huge scene when he doesn’t get a cookie. 

“hey! what is this injustice?!” 

your kid’s like 😐 and just stares at him. 

shidou tries to work his charm, all “come on, buddy. daddy’s hungry tooooo~” 

he literally hands over both cookies at the same time and walks off like, “there, done.” 

shidou’s left standing there stunned. 

“wait... what? that’s it? no big speech, no big drama? nothing?” 

you’re dying, while your son just shrugs and starts playing with his toys, clearly satisfied with his cookie diplomacy. 

shidou still insists on making it dramatic though, waving his cookie around like a trophy and making “victory” noises. 

“i may have gotten no cookies, but i’m still the king of this house!” 

your kid rolls his eyes. 

itoshi sae

sae... is too smooth for this. he’s lowkey a little smug about the whole thing. 

“you’re really going to give me nothing? i’m offended, darling.” 

you hand out the cookies, and your kid looks at the cookies... then looks at you, then at sae, and just gives you one of her cookies without question. 

sae’s left there with no cookie. 

he’s watching it all happen, like in slow motion. 

you’re trying so hard not to laugh while sae just... blinks. 

“... i see. so this is how it is.” 

your kid grins proudly, as if she solved some big mystery. 

sae stares at you with a look like, i’m not even mad. i’m just disappointed. 

“well, at least i know who the real favorite is.” 

you’re like, babe, you’re still the most handsome, you know that right? 

he just grumbles, looking away. 

you’re dying and your kid is straight-up chilling in the background. 

ness alexis

ness is not okay with not getting a cookie. 

he pretends to be all chill, but you can see the twitch in his eye as he watches your kid get two cookies and you get one. 

the kid doesn’t even hesitate. 

she just looks at you, then hands both cookies over to you. 

ness looks like he’s been betrayed. 

“this… this is unacceptable.” 

he dramatically holds his hand out like please, just one. 

your kid just shrugs and plops back down to continue playing. 

“you’re not gonna share?” ness asks in the most dramatic voice possible. 

she looks at him, then looks at you, and just turns back to playing with her toys like she's already moved on. 

ness? absolutely dying on the inside. 

he keeps glancing at the cookies like he’s waiting for a miracle. 

finally, he sighs and snatches one of your cookies, slumping dramatically on the couch like, “fine, i’ll settle for this one.” 

your kid gives him the most unimpressed look. 

“that’s not a cookie for you. that’s a cookie for mom.” 

ness: 😭 “you’re not wrong...” 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[deathofacupid]

ᡣ𐭩 content — neurosurgeon!gojo. fluff, slight smut. part of a grey's anatomy!au, also gojo's part of the series. lowkey thanks anonnie <33

neurosurgeon!gojo who you wake up beside, startled, in the early dawn of the morning. it's a head full of white, fluffy hair that greets you, and an alarm clock blaring in your face.

neurosurgeon!gojo who you hurriedly kick out of your bed, trying to shoo him out.

neurosurgeon!gojo who just pouts, "aw, already, pretty?" you'd pouted, discontent with the ache of your thighs. the last thing you needed was to be late and sore to work.

on your first day, too.

neurosurgeon!gojo who's not really listening, not as you practically bite his head off, lecturing him about the way a one-night stand works. one night. then, bye-bye. he's too busy chuckling at you, how adorable you look, with your brows knit like that.

not half as adorable as last night, though, when you'd screamed your throat raw, begging mercy from him — his hips snapping against yours. hands gripping your waist, deep enough to leave bruises.

neurosurgeon!gojo who wonders if there really are bruises. he will admit, he wants a peek, but this doesn't seem like the right time. rigidly, with a grin on his face (one that you can't seem to look away from), he shoves his scrawled out number into your hands.

and, well, if taking it is going to get him out, you'll take it.

neurosurgeon!gojo who you run into at the hospital. literally. it's not completely your fault, they should know better than to let an intern run around like that. papers scattered, binders flying.

"i'm so sorry," you'd gushed, to neurosurgeon!gojo, before realizing that it's him. mcdreamy from last night. jesus.

neurosurgeon!gojo who simply laughs, helping you re-organize. "i didn't know this is where you worked."

"i didn't know this is where you worked," you'd shot back. "just, i'm— i'm looking for dr. gojo? chief of—" your eyes trail down, flickering across his name-tag, and then doing a double take.

"oh, god," you whisper.

"hey, you said that last night, too." neurosurgeon!gojo must think he's funny, but you're in total shock.

"oh, god," running a hand though your hair, you repeat. "i slept with my boss. and then kicked him out."

neurosurgeon!gojo who's beaming, "see? this is why you should always be kind to your one-night stand."

neurosurgeon!gojo who you don't know how to act around. him giving you eyes that scream i've seen you naked don't help, either. even if he means to, or not.

well, he probably means to.

oh, and you try. seriously, you try. you avoid him like crazy, even if it means having to give up on some amazing surgeries. he was an attending. the head of neurosurgery. if anyone was to get in trouble, it would be you — the mousy, new intern.

neurosurgeon!gojo who doesn't give up. not even after you've explained this to him for the nth time. "so, fine," he shrugs, "no one will know."

"it's not just— i mean, you're older!" you stress, pacing in the empty hallway.

"that wasn't a problem when you used me for my body," neurosurgeon!gojo says, hiding a smug smile.

"that's not— i wasn't— look, no. it's not a good idea."

"don't knock it, 'til you try it."

"i'm not sure this applies here."

neurosurgeon!gojo who finally gets you to go to joe's with him, under the condition it would lead to nothing else. and, well, it didn't. (to your subtle disappointment, you wouldn't admit.)

neurosurgeon!gojo doesn't need sex to woo you. he's done the woo-ing alread, which is why it's so hard to refuse him, when he's dropping you off on your front door, kissing your cheek. "so... next time?"

neurosurgeon!gojo smirks. you sigh. him: one, you: zero.

[hees-mine]

The sex shop - L. Heeseung

Pairing: heeseung X reader!

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, condoms, lube, sex toys, dirty talk, masturbation, loss of virginity, multiple orgasms, cum eating, blow job, public masturbation, mentions of anal, nipple play, reader and hee are kinda pervy?

WC: 7k+

-

“Ugh,” heeseung groans, tossing and turning in his bed. It’s three in the morning, and he’s so hard he doesn’t know what to do. Even after jerking off ten minutes ago, he’s ready to go again.

It’s almost annoying how quickly he gets in the mood. Sometimes, he finds himself even having to take random breaks at school or pulling off into an empty parking lot to rub one out.

He’s got zero shame about it and also zero self-control. Whenever he gets hard, he’s cumming no matter the time of day.

Even at three am, he’s rolling on his back and dipping his palm into his gray sweats to start palming his cock.

“Hmm fuck” he closes his eyes, head tilting back as he rolls his palm around his tip with a gentle hiss.

He lifts his hips when just touching isn’t enough. “Shit,” he curses at the sight of the bulge. “I'm so fucking hard” he grabs his base pumping it up and down, his cock riddled with veins and warm to the touch.

He pushes his clothing down further to fondle his full balls, tugging on his sack softly as his toes curl in pleasure, his dick twitching with every tug.

When precum beads at the head, he uses the natural lube to coat his girthy shaft.

He bucks his hips fucking into his hand, wishing he was fucking a pussy instead.

It’d feel so much better than his hand, so much warmer, so much tighter, so much wetter. “God,” he shudders, rolling his palm around the head and then gripping his length tightly, rubbing up and down faster.

Quiet smacks fill his bedroom as his wet fist meets his base with repeated strokes.

He gulps harshly, hips weakly bucking into his hand. He grips his sheets, veins popping on the side of his neck as his body tingles with excitement. He’s so close.

He squeezes his eyes shut, whimpering as his hips lose their rhythm. He’s still trying his best to fuck his fist, but he can feel himself tiring out. After all, it is his third one in the past half hour.

Panting, he tried his best to keep pace, but alas, his hips faltered, his bicep burned with the amount of pressure he applied to his sensitive cock, and even his hand started to cramp as he desperately searched for sweet release.

“Fuck” he gives up, loosening his grip on his cock, throwing his head back into his pillows, sighing frustratedly.

After a few deep breaths, he starts again, slowly stroking his solid cock. He wished he had a toy to make this easier he was too used to the feeling of his right hand making it hard to cum as quickly as he’d like.

But an idea pops into his head. On his way home from work, he’s seen a sex shop not too far from his apartment. They always stayed open 24/7. He’s never really thought about going into one due to shame and embarrassment, but right now, he was too horny to feel anything other than the throbbing ache of his cock.

He slips out of bed, pulling his pants back around his waist. He throws on a black hoodie and puts his slippers on before grabbing his keys and sprinting out the door.

His heart races with excitement as he starts his car and drives a few miles down the road to his destination, one hand on the steering wheel, the other rubbing himself over his sweats, fuck; he needed to cum so freaking bad.

He parks in the lot, turning his key to the off position.

Big pink neon letters lit up the front of the store.

“The sex shop”

-

read full story here

[strnilolover]

Cabin On The Mountain

in which . . . matt and reader decide to go to a cabin for a get away up on the mountains, secluded from everyone and everything else. what happens when they get snowed in their first night and matt decides on how to keep them busy?

content warnings : this is a short little mini series that will explicitly contain smut and mature themes. this whole thing will basically be smut with zero to very little plot whatsoever. this also skips a lot, so they are all different days and things they do each day. length also may very (they will mostly be short, but can be longer).

additional warnings : smut. kitchen/counter sex. unprotected pnv. dirty talk. praising.

intro , one , two , three

ON THE COUNTER

day four…

when you woke up this morning, the snow was still inches high outside—not allowing for any outdoor plans to be made and done. and it was frustrating, not being able to go outside and enjoy the chill air while wandering around with matt.

you didn’t let it get to you too much—matt’s words having been in your mind since yesterday morning.

“and I plan on fucking you on every surface in this cabin until that snow outside is gone.”

you couldn’t deny that the thought of all the places he was going to fuck you at, turned you on. just knowing he could take you anywhere at any moment without be caught by someone.

it was thrilling.

you hadn’t bothered putting on much this morning—just a lacy bra and matching panties, the cool air brushing against your bare skin. matt had gone to bed before you last night, so he hadn’t seen what you’d decided to sleep in, and you hadn’t thought much about it when you got up.

currently you were focused on breakfast, flipping some pancakes as another pan held bacon—it was the perfect breakfast to wake him up with.

but upstairs, matt had woke up groggy, rubbing a hand over his face before turning over and realizing the side of your bed was empty. he frowned, pushing himself up as he swung his legs over the side of the bed—still sluggish as he padded downstairs in just his sweatpants. but the second he stepped into the kitchen, all of that sleepiness vanished.

his breath hitched, and his cock twitched in his sweats as he took in the sight of you—standing there, oblivious, wearing nothing but that delicate little set. the straps of your bra dug slightly into your shoulders, and the lace clung to your curves in a way that made his mouth go dry. your panties were barely there, hugging the swell of your ass just right.

“fuck,” matt exhaled under his breath, reaching down to palm at his erection. at the sound of his voice, you turned your head, smiling. “oh good morning, baby. I was just making breakfast—”

you didn’t get to finish.

matt was on you in seconds, pressing himself against your back, his hands immediately finding your hips. he groaned, already hard, grinding against your ass as his lips brushed against the skin of your neck. “you tryna fucking kill me?” he rasped, voice thick with sleep and lust.

your body shivered, tilting your head to the side as he kissed and nipped at your skin. “I— I just thought I’d be comfy,” you murmured, barely able to focus with the way he was touching you—the way he was making you feel.

“comfy, hm?” his hands roamed, sliding over your stomach, up to your breasts, fingers slipping beneath the lace of your bra. “walking around like this, looking like a goddamn dream first thing in the morning?” he groaned, squeezing your tits before his hands dropped lower, smoothing over your thighs. “you got no idea what you do to me sweetheart.”

you gasped as he gripped your hips and turned you around, pressing you back against the counter. his eyes were dark—hooded—scanning over you with pure hunger. you could feel him, hard and heavy through his sweatpants, and it sent a rush of heat straight to your core.

“matt,” you whispered, looking up at him.

“yeah, baby?” he leaned in, capturing your lips in a slow, deep kiss, his hands gripping the backs of your thighs. then, before you could react, he lifted you onto the counter, pushing your legs apart so he could slot himself between them. “you want me?” he murmured against your lips. “want me to fuck you right here, pretty girl?”

you nodded, breathless, your panties already soaked with your arousal. “please.” you whispered—your breathing quickening.

“that’s my good girl,” he praised, reaching down and tugging your panties aside, swiping two fingers through your slick folds. “fuck, you’re already so wet. you like teasing me, don’t you?”

you whimpered as he pressed both of his fingers to your entrance, slowly pushing them in and curling them just right. “n-no, I wasn’t— I just—” a broken moan slipped past your lips, head tipping back at the feeling of his fingers stretching you out.

he smirked at your reaction, quickly pulling his fingers out and bringing them to his lips, sucking your arousal off them. “sweet as always,” he murmured. his free hand coming down, pushing his sweats down just enough to free his cock, already throbbing, the tip leaking precum.

he wrapped his hand around himself, pumping a few times—spreading the precum around his pink tip before he lined himself up, teasing you, rubbing his cock through your slick folds. “you gonna take me like a good girl?” he murmured.

“yes,” you breathed, legs wrapping around his waist to pull him closer—your heels digging into his lower back.

matt hummed, dragging his cock through your folds a little more—teasing you. and you whined, your heels trying to push him forward more. he smirked, chuckling. “so impatient.” he whispered before pushing in slowly, groaning as he filled you inch by inch. “jesus,” he hissed, his hands gripped your thighs as he bottomed out, holding himself there for a moment, letting you feel every inch of him stretching you.

you moaned, arching your back as your nails dug into his shoulders. “fuck- matt—” you choked out.

“mhm I got you, baby,” he whispered before pulling back and thrusting in again, slow and deep. “fuck, you feel so good.”

slowly he set a rhythm, rolling his hips into yours, his cock dragging along your gummy walls. his hands gripped your waist, pulling you against him with each thrust, the sounds of skin slapping and your breathless moans filling the kitchen.

“look at you,” he murmured, a hand coming up to grip your face, eyes locking onto you. “taking me so well. my perfect fucking girl.” the fingers on his other hand come down to brush over your clit, circling it slowly. “you wanna cum for me baby? hm?” he mocks.

you whimpered, nodding frantically as your hands continued to grip onto him—body sliding forward as your legs opened wider. allowing him to hit deeper, the pleasure built in your core.

“mm i know.” he cooed, picking up his pace. “let me feel it. cum all over my cock, baby.” and he thrusted deeper, both hands now gripping your thighs to keep you wide open for him as he moaned each time you squeezed around him.

it didn’t take much more—with a sharp gasp, your walls spasmed, pulsing around him as your orgasm washed over you. and he groaned, his head tipping back, thrusting deep a few more times before spilling inside you, filling you up as he moaned.

for a few moments, neither of you moved, just catching your breath, tangled up in each other as your arms wrapped around one another. matt chuckled, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to your forehead. slowly he pulled back just enough to admire the way you looked—flushed, breathless, fucked out—swiping a thumb over your bottom lip.

one of his hands on your thighs retracts back and gives it a quick smack, smirking as you gasp—a small giggle escaping your lips after.

“let’s get some breakfast.”

a/n : tell me why it took me so long to do this WHAT

[whumping-in-the-dark]

List of Ways to (FICTIONALLY) Torture Someone

I genuinely have no idea how to make a content warning for this- just don't do this stuff irl ig

Click here to look for part 2

Caning

Electrocution

Stress Positions

Sensory Deprivation

Degradation

Water boarding

Strangling

Choking

Flaying

Skinning

Nailing

Drugging

Sleep Deprivation

Nudity

Shaving away the hair off their head

Plain ol' beating/manhandling

Public humiliation

Keeping them in a cage

Keeping them in a small dark place

Cutting off a body part

Carving them out with a knife

Whipping

Breaking their bones

Burning them with cigarettes

Poking holes into them with needles

Burning them in general

Forcing them to drink alcohol

Burning off their soles and forcing them to walk

Starvation

Dehydration

Sensory Overstimulation

Forcing them to scream their throat raw

Gagging them

Muzzling them

Crushing them w/ a hammer/mallet

Killing off their loved ones in front of them

Torturing their loved ones in front of them

Burying them alive

Hypothermia

Hyperthermia

Forcing them to hurt a stranger

Forcing them to hurt their loved ones

Forcing them to stay completely silent

Chemical burns

Chinese water torture

Forcing them into dangerous addictions

Forcing them to quit said dangerous addictions with zero support

Overfeeding them

Only feeding them food they are allergic to

Forcing them to vomit

And then punishing them for it

Forcing them to hang from the ceiling by their wrists while

Forcing them to walk on and on on the treadmill (and if they slip, they fall into the-)

Meat grinder. Enough said.

Carve degrading names into their skin

Pierce their body without their consent

Tattoo their body without their consent

Force them to wear humiliating clothes

Dislocate their joints

Dowse them in hot water and force them into a cold environment

Forcing them to get/remain sick so that they can only rely on YOU

Sewing their mouth shut

Only feeding them through tubes

Sewing degrading words into their skin

Branding them with a sign of your ownership

Branding them with degrading words

Forcing them to wear a collar with bells

Forcing them to wear a shock collar

Crucification

Keelhauling

Drag them behind the fast moving transportation of your choice <3

Stabbing them

Vivisection

Cannibalism

Almooost drowning them

Poking holes into their eyeballs with a needle

Ripping out their eyeballs

Ripping out their teeth with a pair of pliers... one by one

Attaching a strong cord to their teeth and ripping them all off at once

Pouring melted glass down their throat

Replacing their organs

Removing their organs

Slowlyyy pulling their limbs apart

Putting heavy objects on them over time

Force feeding

Forcing them to betray a loved one

Denying them medicine

Rubbing salt/other irritant into their wounds

Pouring alcohol/other irritant over their wounds

Rubbing their skin off with sandpaper

Forcing them to clean themself up when they're sick/injured

Denying them medicine

Forcing them to earn their 'privileges'

Denailing (slowly peeling off their nails)

Apply leeches onto their body

Force them into a tub of disgusting bugs (bonus points if they're naked)

Paralyzing them

Trapping rats on top of them and then forcing the rats to escape through their body

Dehumanization

Forcing them to shoot someone, except the barrel turns out to be empty

Feel free to suggest additions! I will try to update it whenever I find/think up of something new

Tysm @electrons2006 and @lettherebepain and @aliencatwafers for your ideas :)

[littlelamy]

party fun

pairing: bsf!rafe x vixen!reader

The low hum of conversation and music fills the air, laughter echoing off the walls as you try to keep up with the man in front of you, who’s telling some story you barely register. Your eyes keep wandering, scanning the room—until you see him. Rafe stands across the room, his gaze unwavering, intense, zeroed in on you with a focus that makes your pulse skip a beat. He doesn’t look away, and the longer he stares, the more you feel a mix of excitement and a hint of nervousness settle over you.

Just then, your companion reaches out to touch your arm, chuckling as he leans in closer, but before he finishes his sentence, you feel a firm hand clasp around your wrist. You turn, heart racing, to find Rafe standing right there, closer than you thought, his expression hard.

“Fuck off dude. She's with me,” he says, his voice low and clipped, eyes fixed on the guy next to you. Rafe’s tone leaves no room for argument, and within seconds, the man mumbles something, backing away with a quick nod. Your heart pounds as Rafe’s hand stays wrapped around your wrist, his grip both protective and possessive. He doesn’t break eye contact with you as he pulls you gently but firmly through the crowd, leading you down a hallway to an empty bathroom, his jaw tight, eyes blazing.

Without a word, he closes the door behind him, his fingers still laced with yours as he turns to face you. His breathing is heavy, and there’s an unmistakable fire in his gaze.

“Rafe…” you start, but he cuts you off, his hand lifting to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly over your skin. He’s watching you like he’s seeing you for the first time, his eyes filled with that intensity you can’t resist.

“Do you have any fucking idea what you do to me?” he murmurs, his voice rough and strained. “Watching you out there with him… seeing him so fucking close to you…” He shakes his head, as though he’s trying to rein in his own emotions, but there’s a small, dangerous smirk on his lips. “God, Vixen, you’re gonna drive me fucking crazy.”

Before you can respond, his lips crash against yours in a kiss that’s deep and consuming, his hand wrapping around the back of your neck to pull you close. The kiss is possessive, almost desperate, and it takes your breath away, your hands automatically reaching up to grip his shoulders as he holds you there, pouring everything he feels into the way his mouth moves against yours.

You let out a quiet moan against his lips, feeling his hold on you tighten as he pulls you even closer. He lifts you onto the counter with ease, standing between your legs, his hands on either side of your waist as his mouth explores yours with a passion that makes your heart race. His hand slides to the back of your neck, his fingers threading into your hair as he pulls back just slightly, his forehead resting against yours, both of you catching your breath.

“Say my name,” he murmurs, his voice low and intense, eyes dark as they search yours. “I need to hear you say it.”

“Rafe,” you whisper, and a slow, satisfied smile spreads across his face.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, almost to himself, his fingers tracing a slow line down your arm, sending a shiver through you. “That’s what I thought.” His gaze drops, his thumb grazing over your collarbone, the barest hint of a smirk as he watches your reaction.

Your breathing is ragged, your pulse racing, and he notices every little movement, every shift, the way your body reacts to his touch. His hand slides down, fingers brushing over your skin with a deliberate slowness that leaves you breathless.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper as he leans in, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. “So fucking perfect. All… mine.” There’s a possessive edge to his words that makes your heart skip, a thrill rushing through you as he kisses the side of your neck, his lips trailing down to your shoulder with agonizing slowness.

You can barely breathe, your hands gripping his shoulders, feeling the tension in his muscles as he moves his mouth along your skin. “Daddy…” The name comes out as a soft moan, and he pauses, pulling back just enough to look at you.

“Say it again,” he demands, his tone leaving no room for question. His hands move up, cupping your face, his eyes searching yours with an intensity that leaves you feeling bare, exposed. “I want to fucking hear it.”

“Daddy,” you whisper, and he grins, that smirk of his returning as he leans in, pressing his lips to yours in a kiss that’s slower this time, savoring, like he’s memorizing every inch of you.

“You’re all I want,” he murmurs against your lips, his hands tracing over your sides, fingers skimming the fabric of your top in a way that makes your skin tingle, every nerve alive under his touch. “No one else gets to see you like this. No one else gets to be here.” His hands slide lower, gripping your waist firmly, possessively, and he leans in, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Only me. You got that?”

“Yes,” you manage, your voice barely a breath as he watches you, his gaze softening just slightly, a mix of emotions flickering in his eyes.

“Good,” he murmurs, his hands moving up your back, holding you close as he kisses you again, deep and slow. His touch, the way his hands move over your skin, leaves you dizzy, overwhelmed, every thought fading away until there’s only him, his hands, his mouth, his breath mingling with yours.

The kiss deepens, his hands tracing over your body in a way that makes your breath hitch, and you feel his fingers slide over your chest, moving with a deliberate slowness that leaves you wanting more. You let out a soft moan, unable to hold it back, and he pulls back just slightly, his eyes dark and intense as he watches you.

“More?” he asks, his voice a low rumble that sends a shiver through you, a knowing look in his eyes.

“Yes,” you breathe, unable to look away, your voice barely a whisper as you nod. He grins, that smug, possessive smile, and his lips are on yours again, his hands moving over your body with a gentleness that contrasts with the fire in his eyes.

“Say you’re mine, Vixen,” he whispers, his mouth against yours, his voice barely above a murmur. “I want to fucking hear you say it.”

“I’m yours, Rafe,” you reply, your voice shaking with the weight of it, and he lets out a low growl, his grip on you tightening as he kisses you harder, deeper, as if he’s pouring every bit of emotion into it, every unspoken word, every feeling he can’t put into words.

And in that moment, there’s nothing else—just you, him, and the overwhelming need that leaves you breathless, wanting him more than anything else.

Rafe’s hands are on you again, relentless in their exploration, as though he’s trying to memorize every inch of your skin. The way his fingers trail over your waist, down your sides, makes your pulse race, each touch sending shivers that start deep within you. He’s leaning in, his breath hot against your neck, lips brushing lightly over your skin as he hums in approval.

“You’re perfect,” he murmurs, his voice rough, eyes dark and intent as he looks down at you, his fingers still gently grazing the fabric of your top. Without breaking eye contact, he pulls the material up slightly, just enough to expose the curve of your tits. His gaze flickers down, a satisfied smile curling on his lips.

“I can’t get enough of you, Vixen,” he growls, his voice thick with desire. His fingers trace a delicate line along the edge of your top, then slide to where the fabric gathers, pulling it tighter in his hands, teasing. The motion sends a spike of electricity through your body, your breath catching in your throat as his touch lingers just a little too long, sending waves of heat coursing through you.

“Rafe…” Your voice cracks, breathless from the way his hands are making you feel—he’s not gentle, but there’s a tenderness in the way he moves with you, as if each touch is a claim, a promise.

He meets your eyes again, and there’s that fire in his gaze, the same fire that makes your heart beat erratically, makes your body ache for more. His hands find the curve of your waist, fingers curling in, pulling you toward him, pressing you against him with a force that feels both protective and possessive.

“You want this?” he asks, his voice low and husky, as he slides his hands up, finding the soft curve of your chest. He pauses there, his thumb brushing over your nipples, slow and deliberate, a silent question hanging in the air between you.

Your body reacts before you can think, your chest rising and falling in quick, shallow breaths, every nerve alight with the sensation of him, of his touch. The way his hands move, gentle but firm, makes your mind go blank. You nod, just once, unable to form a coherent thought beyond the overwhelming need for him.

Rafe’s lips curl into a small, satisfied grin as his fingers press with a subtle insistence, his touch shifting, teasing, sending sharp waves of heat rushing through you.

taglist: @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @sixrosberg @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @kissrotten @rafesangelita @sstargirln @rafedaddy01 @soldesole @bakugouswaif @skywalker0809 @vanessa-rafesgirl @evermorx89 @aariahnaa