#new account

[leviafart]

Recently I watched the animation "Ersatz". The design of the ascetic just knocked me down, I decided to make a few sketches with him and the cat

[elliesbunnie]

human nature. 𓂃 ellie williams.

______๑ 𖤓 ๑______

farm!hand ellie x farmers fem daughter

warnings: smut, thigh grinding, pussy eating (r receiving), finger fucking, slight praise & degradation if you squint. lmk if i missed any (first fic kinda nervous) men & mdni

wc: 1,347. mlist.

₊˚ ✧ ━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━ ✧ ₊˚

you were an angel in ellie’s eyes. she was downright smitten with you. the way you wore your hair in two messy pigtails. either dressed up in a frilly babydoll dress or short jean shorts. there was almost no in between. sometimes ellie would play a guessing game of what outfit she’d might see you wearing that day.

your father had hired ellie to help around the farm a little over a year ago. you were immediately taken when you first saw her. that light brown hair with an auburn tint in the sun that only fell to her shoulders. her strong arms and toned body. and those hazel eyes that you looked into almost everyday.

your father must’ve noticed your change in attitude when he hired ellie. you started going outside more often. insisting on “helping ellie cause she might get hurt” even if that was such a bullshit excuse. he called you out almost immediately too. the way you’d twirl your hair around her or play with the baby goats, trying to look all cute just in front of her.

today was no different. except for the fact your father was out running errands. you were wearing a white cotton spaghetti strap dress that fell to your mid thigh. paired with brown boots. today you hadn’t tied your hair into your usual pigtails. you left the strands down. flowing down your back as you walked out to the barn where ellie was. she was stacking up hay bells. carrying them like they weighed nothing. which just couldn’t be true since you had tried picking one up to impress her. didn’t go very well. ellie was wearing a flannel with jeans and boots. her short hair pulled back into a half up half down. you swore you could feel yourself getting wet already.

you sat on the hay bell she had just laid down. preventing her from stacking another. “elliee..” you whined out her name. kicking your feet back and forth. ellie just shook her head with a little smirk. she knew your games all too well. and the little crush was clear.

when she didn’t respond, you huffed. pouting slightly. “come inside..it’s hot out here.”

“ ‘m workin’” she muttered out. she just started stacking the hay bells in another spot. you let out a long whine. god you were such a brat. “please? just for a few minutes?” you begged. looking at her with wide pleading eyes. how could ellie say no to that?

𖤓

once she had followed you inside you immediately shut the screen door behind her. she went to sit at the dining table. wiping the sweat off her brow. you poured her a glass of lemonade that you had made that morning. setting it by her on the table. then you walked up behind her and gently started massaging her strong shoulders. you felt her shiver at the touch. clearly not expecting it.

“does it feel good?” your voice was almost sickly sweet. ellie caught on to what you were trying to do but she had no energy to stop you. to remind you that she worked for your father. that this couldn’t happen. yet she also didn’t really care. she just relaxed into your touch and nodded with a little hum.

then you did something stupid. something brave and impulsive but stupid. you walked around and straddled one of her thighs. pouting at her like always. “pay attention to me.” you whined out. ellie had been paying attention to you but you wanted more than that.

she let out a rough exhale through her nose and her hands settled on your waist. she could feel the heat of your core through her jeans. you didn’t even have shorts on under that dress. just thin cotton panties. you let out a soft whine and slowly started grinding against her thigh. she sighed and closed her eyes for a moment. you were so whiny and needy today. sure ellie had noticed the crush before but you’d never attempted anything like this.

after a moment of letting you grind she opened her eyes and started guiding your hips in a firmer way. helping you get the friction you needed. one of her hands went to your back to run her fingers down your spine.

for a moment you couldn’t believe she was helping you. that she didn’t push you off or tell you this was crazy. she was actually helping you. your panties started to form a wet spot. the white cotton turning a bit see through. you let out a needy moan and laid your head against her shoulder. “want you..please.”

at your sweet words, she stood up with you in her arms. making her way up the stairs of the farm house. she opened the door to your room and laid you down on the full sized bed in the center. kicking the door shut with her heel.

she kneeled between your legs. nudging your knees open with her hands. you let out a soft whine and sat up on your elbows to look down at her. “you just wanted my attention, huh?” her voice came out rough and teasing.

you nodded and she pulled your panties down your thighs. putting the white cotton in the back pocket of her jeans. her eyes never left your pussy. now seeing it bare and glistening with need.

she wasted no time. immediately burying her face between your legs. her tongue lapped at your folds before finding your clit and sucking gently. your moans filled the tiny decorated room. you couldn’t believe this was happening at all. ellie had never gave you this attention before. clearly your countless flirting finally paid off.

ellie was hungry. she loved eating pussy and this sweet girl had spent everyday for the last year and a half just begging for her attention. she was completely immersed in your taste. her arm thrown over your lower abdomen to keep you from squirming so much. “tastes so good baby..” she murmured against your pussy. the vibrations of her voice sending shockwaves through you.

your back was arching off of the bed. hands gripping your soft sheets below you. you already felt so very close. ellie’s fingers circled your entrance before slowly pushing two in. she felt you clench around her fingers and she rubbed her hand over your stomach to calm you. “’s alright sweetheart. relax.”

a sweet whimper escaped your throat as you tried to relax. but ellie’s fingers and her tongue felt so heavenly. she curled her fingers inside of you. a long whiny moan erupting from you. a hand went do to grip ellie’s hair softly. needing something other than bedsheets to hold on to.

she felt your pussy tighten and your hips arching. she knew you were close so she pumped her fingers gently. her tongue playing with your sensitive clit. her hazel eyes met yours briefly and that’s when you completely came undone. moans and whimpers slipped past your lips. she pulled her fingers out of you and lapped up all of your juices. kissing the insides of your thighs and up your body through that white cotton dress. finally finding your lips. just a soft peck though. not letting you have too much fun.

you let out a annoyed whine and tried to pull her back but she just tutted at you. “you’re such a whiny brat. can’t even be grateful with what i give you.”

usually you’d argue back. defend yourself and tell her that you weren’t a brat. but you were too spent to say anything. all you could do was whine and whimper. she kissed your cheek and stood up straight. adjusting her hair before looking down at you. “gotta get back to work before your daddy comes home.” and with that she left your room. leaving you a complete mess with no aftercare or anything. but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. after all that flirting and purposely trying to get her attention she finally gave you some.

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guys please give me requests i need ideas 😔

[consxmed]

۪ ✚ ֗┊so nanami kento couldn't wait to see his soon-to-be wife on their wedding day, sue him.

sfw, nanami x fem! reader

➞ ⋆ masterlist

꘩ . NANAMI'S temporary silence humoured you.

“It’s bad luck to see me before the wedding.” You softly mused.

The man in question remained remorseless.

His soul, nestled in tradition, which would typically have reeled back in disbelief, succumbed to his unusual impatience and pardoned his decision to dishonour decade-old customs.

His heart was soon to be legally roped by an endless scripture inscribed with not only his consent to this union, but with cursive letters strung to formulate paragraphs brimmed with gratification for the day he was to settle another diamond atop your fourth finger, which was finally today.

As your palms manoeuvred south, soothing over the chapels of his exquisite suit of identical textiles, his organ restrained beneath the ensemble of his wedding attire, gently thrummed, reciprocal of your touch as your dainty hands rested a few centimetres above his pectorals

“I’m aware, Love,” he expressed lowly, hazel eyes strewn from a melodic harp’s chords, studying the orbs, still somewhat surprised he had wandered away from his station, which was to be at the end of the altar, awaiting your presence.

Nanami’s own hand placement remained stitched to your hip, savouring the blanche lace tailored to snugly sculpt your heavenly silhouette and the stark contrast of the vintage-esque fabric enticing the calloused landscape of a working man.

Shame almost derided him, and the slight discomfort stirring in his lower half, as, in a couple of hours, he anticipated the gown's cloth balled within his grasp: the semblance of chaste caressing his thick digits (which had failed to remain as such) a divine vision.

The opulent fabric was a mere distraction by cloaking practice vows his ardent mouth had smooched against your body during your sexual rendezvous as boyfriend and girlfriend. Every amorous advancement was instead a bout of devotion he murmured against your soft flesh that permeated beneath your skeletal protection, garnering a shudder, a delicate moan, or both.

"Oh, Kento..." You tsked teasingly, rolling your eyes to disguise the warmth whenever he spurred flattery onto you - his romantic tendencies constantly heartening

As you subconsciously nabbed at the navy handkerchief peeking out his breast pocket, you chuckled to yourelf, visualising Nanami plucking the neatly folded material from its suffocating confines to dab dry the prick of a stream nourishing his waterline whilst witnessing your poised figure leisurely unite with his embrace, the bob of his Adam’s apple a hefty gulp of finality you was to be his under legal pretences, a long-awaited moment and insinuation no man beside himself could sincerely or even attempt to state you was theirs. 

Alternatively, Nanami noted the minuscule embellishments of priceless pearls adorning your customised gown, and the semi-extensive width of fragile tulle delicately draped atop your head, paired to complete your wedding look.

He reached behind your head, stepping back once he had acquired the matrimonial headpiece. The bulky clock, settled behind you, which had scrutinised Nanami's pace and urged both of you to respect the allotted time slot for this venue and the guests’ effort in reaching here on time, surprisingly paused.

The clock’s lanky arms softened, hesitating by a mere second to witness the intimate ceremony between the pair before strutting on to be observed by a swarm of onlookers.

Your vision became obscured by ivory netting, mascara-coated lashes tickling against the diaphanous veil that now vaguely concealed your beguiling portrait.

In return for Nanami's gesture, you lifted your gaze onto the man you would meet once more in a few minutes to officiate your companionship.

“Forgive me, dear,” Nanami spoke, seeking remission, although his expression of adoration illustrated he didn’t quite care whether his repentance was acknowledged.

“I just couldn’t help myself.”.

© seeingyoumourn no plagiarism, taking inspo or any of that other stuff! divider: @/chrisssiren

[ssnowflakyy]

Mine to bother — fratboy!sukuna x shy!reader

summary: a boy in your class tries to catch your attention, but (un)fortunately Sukuna already catched it

𝜗ৎ| jjk!masterlist <<previous chapter - next chapter»>

The lecture hall was loud, packed with the usual pre-class chatter, but you were doing your best to blend into the background. You kept your eyes glued to your notebook, gripping your pen tightly as a classmate from your group project leaned over your desk.

"So for the presentation on Thursday, do you want to handle the slides or the talking points?" he asked, completely oblivious to how much your heart was hammering just from the sudden social interaction.

"Um, I can do the slides," you murmured, your voice barely audible over the noise. "If that's okay with you..."

"Yeah, totally! That works—"

The classmate's voice abruptly cut off. The air in the doorway of the lecture hall suddenly felt heavy, suffocating even. You didn't need to look up to know who had just walked in.

Ryomen Sukuna.

The campus's most notorious, self-centered frat guy didn't just walk into a room; he commanded it. Today, he was wearing a loose tank top, making no effort to hide the intricate, pitch-black lines encircling his upper arms and wrists, or the dark circles stamped onto his shoulders. The sharp, horizontal tattoo across the bridge of his nose and the crown-like symbol on his forehead practically gleamed under the harsh fluorescent lights. He ran a hand through his spiked pink hair, his extra set of eyes—usually slits beneath his normal ones—flickering open just enough to scan the room with utter boredom. He was a hedonistic, chaotic mess, and yet, nobody dared cross him.

As he sauntered down the aisle, his dark eyes casually swept over the rows. Then, they locked onto you.

Sukuna slowed his pace, his gaze dropping to the guy leaning just a little too close to your desk. A sharp, mocking smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, but beneath it, a sudden, dangerous flash of irritation crossed his face. He didn't say a word, just lingered for a fraction of a second before continuing down the steps, leaving an icy tension in his wake.

Your classmate blinked, rubbing the back of his neck. "Uh... what was that about?"

"I-I don't know," you lied, your hands shaking slightly. This was only the third time you had ever crossed paths with Sukuna, and you had hoped the first two times were just weird flukes.

The moment class ended, you packed your bag as fast as possible, desperate to escape. You slipped out into the crowded hallway, hugging your books to your chest and keeping your head down.

The heavy thud of your heart didn't slow down even after Sukuna's tall figure disappeared around the corner of the bustling science building. The hallway slowly returned to its usual chaotic hum, students rushing past you to make their next classes, entirely unaware of the absolute panic attack you were currently hovering on the edge of.

You stood frozen for a solid minute, your fingers digging into the cover of your textbook so hard the cardboard bent. What is his problem? you thought, your mind racing through the three bizarre interactions you’d had with him this semester. You weren't anyone special. You were a quiet biology major who spent most of your time in the back row of lectures or hidden away in the quietest corners of the campus library. Sukuna, on the other hand, was the campus enigma—a chaotic, heavily tattooed force of nature who seemed to do whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted, without a single care for the rules.

"Hey! Are you okay?"

The sudden voice made you jump, nearly dropping your books. You turned to see your project partner, Daichi, jogging up the hallway toward you, a look of genuine concern on his face. He had clearly witnessed at least part of that interaction.

"Yeah! Yeah, I'm fine," you said quickly, trying to force a reassuring smile, though your voice pitched a little too high. "Just... got caught off guard."

Daichi looked down the hallway where Sukuna had gone, his expression a mix of awe and anxiety. "Man, that guy is terrifying. Did you see his eyes? It literally looks like he has a second pair of eyelids under his normal ones. And those tattoos... people say they aren't even fake, like he got them all done by some underground artist before he even came to college." He shook his head, turning his attention back to you. "Look, if he's giving you trouble, you should tell someone. He looked like he was about to rip my head off back in the lecture hall just for asking you about the PowerPoint."

"No, it's not like that," you lied, desperately wanting to drop the subject. The last thing you wanted was for Daichi to get involved and somehow draw more of Sukuna's volatile attention. "He's just... eccentric. Seriously, don't worry about it. Let's just focus on Thursday. I'll have my half of the slides done by tonight, okay?"

Daichi still looked skeptical, but he nodded. "Alright. Just text me if you need help with the data analysis. See you Thursday."

With a final, lingering look of concern, Daichi walked away. You let out a long, shaky breath and finally forced your legs to move, heading straight out of the building. The fresh autumn air helped clear the suffocating weight from your chest, but the phantom feeling of Sukuna’s heavy hand on your shoulder lingered.

By the time Thursday rolled around, you had managed to push the incident to the back of your mind. The presentation was worth twenty percent of your final grade, and your anxiety over public speaking had completely eclipsed your anxiety regarding the campus's most dangerous frat guy.

The lecture hall was just as packed as it had been two days prior. You sat in the front row with Daichi, reviewing your notes one last time. Your hands were cold, a classic sign of your stage fright acting up.

"Next up, Group Four," the professor called out, gesturing toward the projector screen.

"That's us," Daichi whispered, giving you an encouraging nudge. "We got this."

You stood up, your legs feeling a bit like lead as you walked to the front of the room. As you turned around to face the audience of nearly a hundred students, your eyes instinctively scanned the rows. And there, sitting right in the dead center of the middle row—a spot he *never* usually occupied, given his habit of skipping class or sitting at the very back to sleep—was Sukuna.

He was propped up back in his seat, one arm thrown lazily over the empty chair next to him, his long legs stretched out in front of him. He wasn't looking at the projector screen. His golden-brown eyes were locked onto you, a slow, knowing smirk spreading across his face as he noticed you pale. The extra slits beneath his eyes were closed, but his presence was no less overwhelming.

Great , you thought, a cold sweat breaking out on the back of your neck. Just great.

"Go ahead whenever you're ready," the professor said.

Daichi took the lead, kicking off the presentation with a confident introduction. You focused entirely on the laptop screen, clicking through the slides you had spent hours perfecting. When it was your turn to speak, your voice trembled slightly on the first sentence, but you managed to find a rhythm. You explained the methodology, keeping your eyes strictly fixed on the back wall, deliberately avoiding the middle row.

But Sukuna wasn't making it easy.

As you spoke, he leaned forward, resting his chin in his hand, his gaze drilling into you with an intensity that felt entirely entirely unfair. When Daichi stepped in to answer a question from a student, he casually put a hand on your shoulder to lean in and whisper, "Which slide has the graph for the control group again?"

The moment Daichi's hand touched your shoulder, a heavy, oppressive silence seemed to ripple from the center row. You didn't even have to look to know Sukuna’s expression had shifted. The lazy amusement was gone, replaced by a sudden, sharp hostility.

"Slide seven," you whispered back hurriedly, gently stepping a half-inch away from Daichi.

The rest of the presentation passed in a blur. When the professor finally clapped, signaling the end of your turn, you practically sprinted back to your desk, packing your notebook into your backpack before the next group even reached the podium. You couldn't stay here.

"Hey, we did awesome!" Daichi said, sitting back down next to you. "The professor looked really impressed with the formatting you did on—"

"Thanks, Daichi, I have to go to the restroom really quick," you interrupted, grabbing your bag and bolting out the side door of the lecture hall before he could finish his sentence.

The hallway was quiet since class was still technically in session. You walked quickly toward the exit of the building, wanting nothing more than to get back to your dorm, lock the door, and pull the blankets over your head.

"Running away again?"

You froze. The voice echoed in the empty hallway, deep and laced with a terrifyingly sharp amusement.

You turned around slowly. Sukuna was leaning against a vending machine a few yards away, a half-empty energy drink in his hand. He must have left the lecture hall right after you did. He straightened up, his massive frame easily cutting off the path to the main exit.

"I'm not running away," you said, trying to sound brave, though your voice lacked any real conviction. "I just... finished my part of the class."

"Right. Sure," Sukuna scoffed, taking a slow step toward you. The dark, intricate lines of his tattoos seemed to contrast sharply against his pale skin in the dim hallway lighting. "You looked like a deer in the headlights up there. Tell me, does that idiot always touch you like that?"

Your eyebrows knitted together. "What? Daichi? He just asked me a question about the slides."

"I don't care what he asked," Sukuna snapped, suddenly closing the distance between you. He stopped just inches away, his towering height forcing you to tilt your head back to look at him. The air around him felt hot, charged with an aggressive energy that made your pulse skyrocket. "I told you the other day to tell him to back off. You're terrible at defending your own space."

"Why do you even care?" The question slipped out before you could stop it, fueled by a sudden burst of frustration and adrenaline. "You don't even know me, Sukuna! We've spoken exactly three times. You're just... hunting for reasons to be angry."

Sukuna stared down at you, his eyes narrowing to sharp points. For a second, you wondered if you had pushed him too far. A dangerous, unpredictable silence stretched between you. Then, slowly, the tension in his jaw gave way to a low, rough laugh that vibrated through his chest.

"Why do I care?" he repeated, his voice dropping an octave, becoming dangerously quiet. He leaned down, his face stopping just inches from yours, his golden-brown eyes flashing with a mix of amusement and something entirely possessive. "Because I don't like other people touching what catches my attention. And right now, you're the only interesting thing on this boring-ass campus."

Your breath hitched. Your heart was beating so loudly you were certain he could hear it. "I'm not an object," you murmured, your voice trembling.

"Never said you were," he murmured back, a dark, wicked smirk pulling at his lips. He reached out, his large, warm hand lightly brushing against the side of your neck, his thumb tracing your jawline for a fleeting, electrifying second before he drew back. "But you're mine to bother. Remember that. Next time I see that guy crowding you, I won't just look at him."

Before you could find your voice to reply, he turned around, tossing his empty drink into a nearby recycling bin with a perfect strike. "See you around," he called out over his shoulder, his tone casual and bored once again, as if he hadn't just completely upended your entire sense of reality.

You stood alone in the hallway, your face burning, watching his retreating back until he finally walked out into the autumn sunlight.

hi sweets!! sorry i wasn’t active this days but uni is killing me… hope you like my work! (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

@lunatguard @mariasan09 @catkuna @pandoras-boxof-secrets @yummidumplingss @emeraldpurple

[lacybambii]

𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 ٠࣪⭑

𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: MDNI! 18+, language, smut, p in v, fingering, cnc? (does it without full coherent consent?) rafe kinda takes advantage of reader, slight exhibition risk, mention of head (m receiving) mean!rafe towards the end, lots of dirty talk, slight daddy kink, slapping, slight mention of neglect, divorce, bourbon + weed

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: innocent!reader visits the cameron’s, as she does weekly, with her parents. but this time as she confides in the eldest cameron child and her best friend, rafe over her parents failing marriage, he attempts to comfort you…

𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆: quick little mssg before you read this is my first ever fic i’ve wrote so im so so sorry if it’s absolutely awful! also please request other stuff for me to write! enjoy angels! 💐🪽🧸

you and rafe were inseparable.

still are.

since the early age of four in he’s been following you around like a lost puppy. constantly trying to get your attention, the poor boy. you often saw his constant need and struggle for someone to just care for him as an affect of his asshole of a father mainly bringing him up.

your parents just somehow managed to strengthen your bond with him by becoming closer to one another themselves. during your childhood and with rafe, your parents obviously drifted closer by spending practically every weekend together. of course they would, naturally. both your mother and his step mother, rose, are wealthy, snobby women of the upper side in the outer banks. and your fathers? please. they could be brothers.

ward cameron, business fiend and dickhead supreme, clearly is best suited to become bourbon drinking buddies with your father. every tuesday, thursday and saturday without a doubt your father is “invited” over to the cameron household. therefore meaning you and your mother have to come too.

now after years of these years and many similar nights, you don’t mind. i mean, you are visiting your little rafe…

knock knock knock

“darling i’m sure ward will love your bourbon you brought don’t worry dear” standing on the cameron manor porch, your mother attempts to reassure and calm your father by pressing a haste kiss to his stubbly cheek. smoothing down his suit, she shuffles backwards as he scoffs and glares at her.

“why wouldn’t he maria?! it’s bourbon from fucking germany, the best bourbon making country in the goddamn world.” father sighs, agitated once again. muttering something about her being a stupid woman. you stand there, behind them both. watching mother, her long, recently blown out hair floating in the wind, revealing the open back of her pastel blue sundress. and watching father too. his broad shoulders filling most of the imposing cameron manor front door’s frame. his grey suit reflecting him beautifully. bland and fucking boring. your hands start twisting with your silver bracelets and small golden rings as you try to become invisible. as you try to keep out of your parents fraying marriage and their ongoing petty arguments once again.

the door swings open.

rose cameron stands there, rafes step mother. her short blonde hair is recently bleached and shoved behind her ears. flaunting her iridescent mauve jumpsuit and boisterous, awfully chunky gold necklace. she paints a firm smile onto her matching mauve lips and pushes her hair even further behind her ears. the glow of the metal of the bangles on her wrist catch the setting evening sun and flash into your eyes, blinding you for a second.

“maria! damien! welcome!” she reaches forward and pecks your mother’s cheeks swiftly, peering over her shoulder at you in slight disgust. “i see you all made it fine! me and ward were awfully worried about the god awful weather in paris stopping you from flying home from france… he would be horrified if he missed his bourbon drinking date” rose smiles, her cheeks plastered with foundation, rising like cakes being baked. “oh silly me- come in come in! we have so much to talk about maria.. i mean we have to plan midsummers and the food and outfits- oh and damien, you know where ward is” she lets out a sharp chuckle and beams brightly. rose doesn’t even bother you a second glance as she ushers your parents inside, leaving you standing on the porch. the soft breeze playing with your hair.

what a bitch.. you sigh, your shoulders drooping. rafe must be upstairs like always.

you slide into the manor. quiet, invisible one again. pressing the grand double doors shut and starting to trail up the winding staircase.

after a moment climbing up the spiralling stairs and scurrying across the landing, you stop outside rafe’s door.

knock knock knock

“rafey? it’s me?” you murmur to the door, praying he’s inside.

a moment.

the door pulls open.

inside? stands rafe, low slung grey sweatpants, gold chain around his neck, red bull can in hand.

his room? you peek inside, well you try to. it’s mostly dark. all his blinds are shut, and the only light, apart from the glow of his flatscreen tv opposite his bed is crawling underneath his curtains. the hum of some faint song by someone like chase atlantic or the weeknd dances around the room and the faint smell of weed and aftershave wraps around you, embracing you into a warm, familiar hug.

“doll- i- hey” he smirks, before snatching your wrist and pulling you into his den.

he plops onto the crimson velvet couch at the end of his king size bed before drawing a blunt out of his pocket and dropping his empty red bull can onto the floor with a clatter.

holding the not lit blunt in his teeth, he grabs one of the stray hoodies laying on his floor before pulling it over his head. he flickers his lighter, pulled from his pocket and lights the blunt. takes an inhale and blows out a small cloud of smoke. “cmon bun” grinning ear to ear, he pats his thigh “sit, you know i don’t bite”

you giggle, a sweet melodic tune that dances throughout rafe’s brain.

fuckk…. he thinks..

he drags a rough hand over his face, making some attempt to clean his impure brain of the image of you on your knees in between his thighs with his thick cock wrapped around your pretty pink lips.

you toe off your polished black mary jane’s, leaving them by his bedroom door before pushing it shut quietly. you scuttle over, slipping and sliding all over his recently waxed hardwood floor with your pale pink frilly socks covering your small feet.

he smirks again.. this sweet, sweet girl.

“hi rafey” you murmur whilst you plop onto his lap with a faint thud.

“miss’d you bunny” he immediately lets his hands wander over your waist and he pulls you up so you’re laying back onto his chest as he grabs his playstation controller before starting to play his game. some fighting game no doubt.

“me too rafey..” you coo “im sorry i went away for so long.. france was boring, mom just wanted to drink and dad just wanted to scream at her..im here now though” you say before offering him a weak smile.

“oh bun.. they still rocky?” he hums, pressing you into his side more.

“mhm..i- uh- heard them yelling over some papers the other night too when i was trying to sleep.. its all going wrong rafey i’ve wanted to speak to you for ages but-” you mumble, turning your head so you can bury your lightly dolled up face into his bare bicep.

“oh pretty..” he sighs, stroking your hair like a puppy’s soft fur coat “it’ll be for the best if they divorce hm? yeah?”

“yeah.. you’re right.. i mean at least i might be able to at least sleep then? right?” trying to laugh at your own joke, you press your face further into his arm, turning slightly more so you can lay on his chest better.

“mh yeah good girl.. you can move in with me too if you want when i get my own place later this year hm? jus’ us two in a big house while i finish college yeah?”

“yeah.. uh- i’d like that… yeah..” you whimper. a tear. two tears. three. four. a stream. a river.

“shi- no no bunny don’t cry.. shh… sh..”

sobbing, you grasp his neck and cry softly into his shoulder.

blubbering uselessly, you try to form some coherent thought “b-but- m…m-my d-dad-d-daddy! n-no l…li-like me”

“don’t stress bun.. yeah? fuck your dad. that’s what i say.” he cradles your head, his golden rings that adorn each finger glint in the glow of his tv and his fingers rake through your hair, the playstation controller forgotten. “i can be your daddy for all you care bun.. let rafey care for you.. let me help you.. please pretty girl” he whines pathetically.

you nod mindlessly whilst continuing to whimper and sniffle into his chest.

you don’t even notice he’s manage to hike your baby pink floral print sundress dress up to your waist until his thick golden brown fingers dance along your inner thigh, trickling into your panties quietly.

“shh.. rafe’s got you bun.. focus on me hm?” you can almost hear the smugness melting off his tongue and into his speech, bastard.

you look down at your thighs, expecting to just see his hand squeezing and kneading the flesh. oh-! shit. when did he take my underwear off-.

a pinch, a stoke of your little nub. “r-rafe!”

“you like tha’ hm? shh.. shh.. dry those eyes babygirl.. no crying for rafe”

a finger.. or is it three? press inside of you suddenly.

“mh!” you whine like a needy puppy, for a different reason this time. not crying over your stupid parents, but your best friend.

“sh.” he hisses “keep quiet now, wouldn’t want mommy and daddy to find out their precious girl is being finger fucked by her best friend now would we?”

you shake your head, frantic. “n-no…”

“good girl.. open wide for rafe now” he taps your sealed lips with his cum slicked index and middle finger before forcing your soaked through pink lace panties into your waiting mouth. his fingers slide back down to your puffy folds and little hole, that’s currently clenching on air. trailing his middle finger down from your clit, he thrusts it in. the contrast of the cool metal of the ring on his finger and the warmness of your walls making you sharply inhale.

squelch squelch squelch

the wet, grotesque squelching sounds of his sound fingers thrusting into you and spreading your wetness around your folds fill the air.

another finger presses into your hole. roughly curling around the point, that fills your vision with stars and black, he found so well. so quickly.

eyes rolling back, you buck your hips, frantic. humping his hand, you groan. silently begging and pleading for permission to come.

“nuh uh, too soon bun.. i’ve not even got my cock out yet and you want to squirt all over my fingers?” he scoffs “pathetic slut” he spits at you, and a firm slap is delivered meanly to your pulsing folds making you jump.

suddenly, you’re not on his lap. you’re bent over the arm of the crimson couch, the plush velvet digging into your knees as rafe rams his mean cock into your folds from behind.

“uh-mh-mm!” you whine and squirm, pleading for more friction.

“if i knew you were this much of a slut my dick wouldn’t have left this tight cunt in years…” he pants, breathing heavily. “take it- mh.. some best friend you are” he chuckles as he bullies his cock into you, the angry red tip prodding your cervix, inching you closer to your orgasm every thrust. his balls burying into the curve of your plump ass. “oh bun- she’s just swallowing me whole.. greedy hole gripping my cock so well, taking rafey so well hm?”

despite his roughness, rafe continues to stroke your hair somehow comfortingly, tugging every few moments as the odd ring on his finger gets stuck in your locks.

“see bun? it’s okay, you’ve got me, fuck your parents yeah? jus’ need- m..me… rafe” he groans as he gets closer to his climax.

“god i’ve been waiting to do this for years..” he murmurs as he leans down to nibble your shoulder as he continues to ram into you unrelentingly, the wet sounds now more violent and vicious.

slap slap slap

[mrsvictorgideon]

[darlingdollkiss]

i love you jason todd x reader.

in which a very insecure jason todd refuses to believe he’s worthy of any love, let alone yours.

tags: angst, yearner jason, real yearning, jason is readers ex. let me know if there’s anything else.

ever since jason came back from that damn pit, he’s never been the same. anyone would have guessed. you take an innocent angry boy, and bring him back into the world that did him so wrong, he’s gonna be even more angry.

and you were his escape. for a whole year. until two months ago when you told him you loved him..

it was late night tuesday, gotham rain tapping on the window of your small apartment. you were both tangled in bed, you half on top of jason, head on his bare, scarred chest. his fingers slowly drifted through your hair, lightly brushing your scalp and sending shivers down your spine.

and then you said it.

“i love you.”

it came out as a soft mumble, slightly muffled against his skin. but he still heard it. those three words. god he hadn’t heard them in a long time. hell, he wasn’t even sure if he’d ever heard them. a life filled with anger and hatred and blood means softness was rare, and an alien concept to him.

you drifted off after you said it. that’s what makes it worse. you had given him your heart, and drifted off into a gentle sleep, while he still lay there, shocked.

so of course it was a surprise to you when you woke up the next morning to an empty bed, and a scribbled note on the back of an old receipt.

i don’t deserve your love. i hope you find somebody who does. -j.

it felt like a punch to the gut. completely.

you always knew jason was a little insecure. he was a little more open about it once you found out about red hood, and his past. but you never thought that his insecurity, his self deprecation would ever be the end of your relationship.

and that is why it hurts so much to see him now. rain pouring down onto the streets, soaking both him and you.

“jason,” you say, a hint of pleading in your tone, “just talk to me, please.”

he shakes his head. “there’s nothing to talk about, we’re over, you should move on. find someone better.” his words are harsh, but he doesn’t mean it.

he’s pushing you away because he loves you. because he’s convinced himself that he can’t have you. that you’re far too good for him.

“i don’t want anyone else.” your words make him tense up. water drips from his hair down to his nose. he exhales.

“i only want you, jason.” you continue, voice quiet now, soft. “i love you.”

those three words again, the ones he dreads. the one he doesn’t think he deserves to hear.

“go back home, you’ll catch a cold.” he says, stubborn.

you sigh, biting your bottom lip in hopes of stopping tears from spilling over. “i don’t want to go home, i want you.”

i want you too. i love you. you are the only girl that i’ve ever wanted.

it’s all he wants to stay. but he can’t. the words catch in his throat. he loves you so much it hurts, his chest hurts for you. every time he thinks of you, sees your face, it’s all he ever wants to think about, all he ever wants to see.

and yet here, right now, when he has his chance, he walks away. leaving you in the rain, your tears mixing with the heavy water dripping onto your face.