#this is old

[placeholdtv]

waiting for a knock that never came

[sketchtoons]

Old thing, thousand echoes show their gratitude

[muppkit]

btw there is a universe where ivypool and dovewing made up and raised their kits together miles away from the clans. btw there is a universe where shadowsight and bristlefrost got to grow up together and to live without fear . btw there's a universe where they're both alive and well. btw

[polkedot]

੭꣒ ˖ ❛ dbf!abbot who fucks you in his car after the family bonfire.

c.ws :: mdni , smut , slight degradation , car sex , hint size kink , overstimulation , dirty talk, creampie.

the car is still warm from the drive, leather seats rasing and sticking to the backs of your thighs where your skirt’s bunched around your waist. you all too giddily agreed to allowing jack to drive you back to campus after your dad gave a nod in shared agreement — but his true intentions were clear when he steered wordlessly into a vacant lot.

it was also clear you shared those said intentions with your thighs pressed together, manicured fingers fiddling restlessly with your skirt.

jack’s got the front seats pushed all the way forward so there’s barely enough room to breathe, just enough space for him to wedge himself between your openly spread legs in the back.

windows are already fogged thick due to the accumulation of body heat, streaks running down the glass from where your palm slipped earlier trying to brace yourself.

outside is pitch black, empty lot behind some closed warehouse, no lights, no cars, just the faint orange glow from a distant streetlamp bleeding through the misted panes.

he’s still mostly dressed as he was at the bonfire: flannel shirt unbuttoned halfway, leather belt undone, pants shoved down just enough to free his cock. thick, heavy, already slick from the way he dragged the head through your weeping folds before pushing in slow. you’re soaked, embarrassingly so, and every inch stretches you open until your breath hitches sharp against his palm.

his hand remains clamped over your mouth the second you start to moan — big, rough, calloused fingers pressing your lips shut. the same fingers you had to reprimand yourself each time you tried to subtly catch a glimpse at between buttered biscuits and shared beers.

his thumb hooks under your jaw, anchoring you back to reality, keeping your head tilted back against the seat. “quiet,” he mutters, voice low and gravelly, breath hot against your ear.

“don’t want anyone knowing what a filthy little thing you are for me, mm?”

he rolls his hips forward, grinding deep instead of thrusting. there isn’t enough room for that. the base of his cock presses right against your clit, pubic bone dragging over it in slow, filthy circles. you feel every vein, every throb, the way he twitches inside you when your walls flutter helplessly around him. your thighs tremble around his clothed waist, heels digging into the small of his back through his pants.

you whine behind his hand — you can’t help yourself — high, desperate, and humiliatingly muffled.

he chuckles low, the sound vibrating through his chest into yours. “that’s it. keep making those pretty noises just for me. my dirty little secret, huh? letting your dad’s best friend fuck you raw in a parking lot like some needy thing?”

his free hand slides up your thigh in tow to his words, blunt fingernails digging into the soft flesh before hooking under your knee and pushing your leg higher, opening you wider. the new angle lets him sink even deeper — shifting you how he wants — tip kissing against that particular gummy spot deep inside you on every grind. you arch, back bowing off the seat, muffled cry vibrating against his palm.

sweat beads on his neck, drips onto your collarbone, collecting damply on the top of your cardigan. the car rocks gently with every roll of his hips — suspension creaking faintly, leather squeaking under you.

you can smell him: expensive cologne mixed with the usual medical antiseptic and the faint metallic tang of his skin. mixed with you — sunscreen you’d asked him to lather on, strawberry body spray, and the wet slick sounds every time he grinds in and drags back out just enough to tease.

“feel that?” he rasps as he does so, grinding harder, slower. “how deep i’m buried? gonna fill this tight cunt up and send you riigght back to your dorm dripping me. no panties. just my cum leaking down your thighs while you pretend you’re a good girl.”

your eyes roll back as he murmurs something about ‘nice an’ studious’. the pressure’s building fast in your belly — low, heavy, coiling tight in your abdomen. every drag of his cock against that spot inside makes your toes curl in your ballet flats. you’re clenching around him so hard he hisses through his teeth, pupils blown wide.

“come on,” he whispers, slightly weary, lips brushing your temple. “come for me, just be quiet now, yeah? don’t want the whole lot hearing how much you love getting used like this.”

one more deep grind, clit crushed against him, and you shatter.

your whole body tenses up — walls clamping down in rhythmic pulses, fluttering so hard he groans low in his throat. you bite the inside of his palm to keep from screaming, tears pricking your eyes from the intensity.

he keeps rocking you through it, slow and mean, milking every tremor out of you until your thighs are shaking and you’re boneless against the seat.

he doesn’t stop.

just keeps grinding, chasing his own release now. his hand slips from your mouth to grip your jaw instead, tilting your face so he can watch you — flushed, wrecked, lips swollen.

“good girl,” he breathes. “taking it so well. gonna give you what you earned.”

[thedarkestrivernymph]

Y! imagine

—imagine a yandere that is just majestic.

His hair is softer than silk—long spidery webs of black hair trickling down his shoulders to end under his bust, cut into layers that frame a face that probably rivals adonis—devilishly handsome; he has ghostly paper skin, slanted eyes of pure blackness with such lusciously curled black lashes every woman would be jealous, with thick full brows and plump inviting lips—who is tall and lean, reminiscent of a vampire lord in those fantasy paintings—only

he is fucking creepy. But not acceptablely-creepy-because-fuck-he-is-so-hot

—but actually fucking weird. Openly gropes you—hands slipping on your thigh as he coincidentally sits down besides you, licking up your ear, breaking into your house to just jerk off right in front of your sleeping form (mind you, you don't even know his name, he's just a stranger) likr ??? he has no decency. literally. run.

[nagiishigh]

Posted this awhile ago on TikTok but thought tumblr would like it too :)

This is old so excuse the artstyle

[lamentelle]