#don’t squish bugs

[jenfoundabug]

Female crane fly (family Tipulidae) laying eggs. I knew some species lay eggs in soil, but wasn’t expecting it to look this silly 😆

While most crane fly adults don’t feed (they’re not giant mosquitoes!), most larvae eat dead plant matter. Larvae are an important part of the soil ecosystem because they convert organic matter into nutrients that plants and other life forms can use. Crane flys are also an important food source at all stages of their life for everything from spiders to song birds.

[mikalilys]

had some really good pasta, then started questioning life’s existence

[thegreatestheaver]

I think that those people who make those videos of leeches and mosquito larvae ect being tortured and eventually killed are really fucking weird actually

[unhingedlesbear]

Just had to deal with non bug owner shenanigans 🥱🥱 (when I say non bug owner I don’t mean all people who just don’t own bugs, I mean THOSE non bug owners who say shit like “squish it” when you’re just trying to talk about your pets)

So exhausting and sad how normalised and even celebrated it is to hate and kill bugs. Even when it’s a pet. Insane. I don’t go off on people often but I had no choice right there bc that’s just something I don’t wanna have to deal with rn.

[squirrelthing85]

I am all for being corruptionpilled jane prentiss kin or whatever in Theory (being consumed by what loves me) but my ass? Could Not handle the bugs. Maybe I’m a poser. but I’m sorry my love. Creepy Crawlies in my House and Home? I shudder at the thought

[inga-don-studio]

oh god I think I just became the designated bug wrangler of my workplace AGAIN

[paradoxolotl]

I hope I’m not just a fic writer to you, but also a source of mild anxiety

[jenfoundabug]

It would be nice if humanity could reach a point where landscaping like this is not okay. I walk past this area frequently, and they regularly nuke everything with roundup and remove all the detritus. Think of all the arthropods and other wildlife this wasted space could support. I understand having fire buffers around buildings, but this attitude isn’t exclusive to plots close to buildings…

I also understand many native plants can be more difficult to grow, but California poppies (in the Bay Area) are not one of them. I’m sure other regions have similarly easy to grow species. Even a few plants can make a huge difference.

We as a culture need to stop it with the blasé attitude about the destruction of nature, particularly bugs (ie invertebrates). “Kill it with fire” is a shitty and ignorant way to react to a tiny animal that is merely trying to exist. The vast majority of bugs are not out to get you and are, in fact, terrified of you (rightfully so in many cases).

Would you squish a baby bird? Didn’t think so.

[kissingwookiees]

downvoting spider slander in every comment section i come across on videos of spiders. oh you hate spiders? you’re a coward! you mask your fear with hatred but you tremble before the smallest beings of grandeur and majesty. when all the world is web, you will be the first to be strangled with the cord!

[novaimperia]

★ asking roommate!sukuna to give you some space. literally.

“don’t you think if i could, i would have by now?” he fires back in a drawl, rolling his eyes. 

right now, you two are squished together in a dark supply closet in the campus atrium, bodies pressed so tightly there’s barely any room to breathe. you keep hushed, listening out for any shuffling less than a metre from where you are holed up with your roommate; the door’s locked and there’d be no reason to suspect you’re both in here but neither of you want to take the chance.

because, outside the door, is a girl with a furious appetite for revenge. she had seen you in the hallway around the corner and questioned you. apparently, your roommate owed her a date on friday night but he hadn’t turned up. that was the third time he’d made a promise to her he didn’t keep. not one for the drama, you were intent on keeping yourself out of it, but because the universe hates you, she narrowed her eyes and said that her friends saw you and him coming out of a movie theatre that very evening. 

of course she didn’t listen when you stammered that you didn’t plan to be there with him. you just wanted to be dropped off because it was late but then, for reasons you can’t really imagine, he chose to stay. she didn’t believe you. a ping went off. distracted with her phone for a moment, you skedaddled out of there, wanting to keep your head on your shoulders for a little longer. in comical fashion, when turning the corner, you saw the second person she has on her kill list. 

things quickly got out of hand after that. 

he didn’t fight very much when you yanked him in here nor did he seem very surprised to hear that a girl was out to get him. 

“ugh, where did she go?” the scorned woman screeches. “i’m gonna beat that whore up, i swear. she totally stole sukuna from me.”

‘stolen’ man huffs in amusement. you smack his chest.

she must be on the phone. briefly, you wonder how many people are building up hatred for you on campus by the simple virtue of living with the pink haired promise-breaker. guess his reputation is contagious. crossing your figures, you hope this won’t be a regular occurrence. and, showing no signs of leaving, if the frustrated stomping of feet pacing the hallway is anything to go by, your head slumps against sukuna’s chest in defeat. innocent of all charges, you’re not sure why you felt the need to hide, much less with him when he should be facing the consequences of his actions on his own. 

it’s not as if he deserves your protection – the stubborn bastard won’t move back just an inch even though he obviously knows he’s threatening to flatten you out like a bug against the wall with his towering body.

“just text her an apology or something,” you hiss. 

you can’t see it but you do feel his pierced brow quirk up. “i’m not gonna apologise ‘cause she can’t take a fucking hint. woman’s been hounding me since forever.”

“well, maybe you shouldn’t be asking her out and then flaking. ever thought of that?” mumbling against his shirt, you’re forced to breathe him in. he smells of burnt wood, the leather strap of a guitar, and nicotine. it’s both exhilarating and calming; you’re gonna fall asleep at this rate. 

something gentle and calloused brushes your hair away from your face. it lulls you deeper into slumber. his words vibrate against your cheek, a little aggressive with a tinge of vulnerability. “i didn’t. she made those plans on her own. don’t wanna go on a date with her.”

“oh.”

minutes pass. you can’t hear anything outside anymore. neither of you rush out. despite how cramped the fit is, it’s oddly comfortable. on second thoughts, maybe you wouldn’t mind spending the rest of the day here. with him. 

“quit fucking moving; you’re practically humping me a like a dog.”

never mind. 

you flick his nipple in retaliation and yelp when metal meets fingernail. he snorts. a little embarrassed, you retort, “you have a boner pressed right up against my stomach – who’s really the dog here, s’kuna?”

shoving him away, you emerge from the storage closet and take a deep inhale of relatively fresh air. she’s not here anymore. good. hopefully you won’t run into her for a while. you look back. your roommate doesn’t step out, instead he flexes his jaw and rolls his shoulder back, avoiding your eye. the tips of his ears are pink. gruffly, he mutters, “go ahead. wait by my car. i’ll be out in a sec.”

blink. blink.

a sponge smacks into your face when you laugh like a madwoman.

[batsandbirdbrains]

Pls just imagine how dramatic a young justice fic would be if it was like

The one where Batman and Robin are magically de-aged to when they first started working together

So now you’ve got a very paranoid and over protective Batman who hasn’t actually met any of the other justice league members yet and an itsy bitsy Robin who looks like he’ll tear someone’s head off. The Justice League has them quarantined in the Watchtower, they’re not letting them go home to the batcave or anything, and Batman is arguing with Green Arrow while holding a flailing Robin by the scruff of his neck. He looks like a feral kitten.

Now keep in mind, no one in this scenario knows Batman and Robin’s secret identities. They’re not even really sure if they’re father and son, brothers, uncle and nephew, or maybe strange mentor and protege picked off the streets, they’ve no clue. So seeing what is now clearly a young twenty-something Batman trying to wrangle in a wriggling eight year old is both highly entertaining and totally baffling. Where the hell did these two even come from. And how has that tiny kid been around longer than some actual adult heroes.

“He bit me!” Kid Flash cries, running away from a glowering Robin.

“Don’t try to touch me next time, asshole!”

“Hey!” Batman barks, holding Robin up by an arm and dangling him in front of him. “We don’t bite super-powered strangers. Who knows what kind of radioactive germs they might have.”

“But B!” Robin’s voice is so high and whiny, Conner is starting to feel dizzy. “He tried to pick me up! He called me cute! I’m not cute I’m terrifying.”

And the two just keep bickering back and forth, Robin eventually hanging with his ankles and hands hooked around Batman’s arm. Batman is trying to shake him off like a bug. They are both still arguing with each other as this happens.

“Did Batman just accuse me of having radioactive germs?” Wally is gaping at the scene in front of him.

As is everyone else. This is a total mindfuck. Who let Batman be in charge of a kid.

The two of them do eventually, reluctantly, start to trust the league. And they’ve been told they have to stay on the Watchtower until their magic expert gets back from a mission. Four days from now.

There’s one point when most others stationed on the Watchtower are sleeping or taking a break, and Batman is holding a drowsy Robin close to his chest and looking out the windows of the observation deck. Someone brought them some casual clothes to wear during their downtime, but they both have domino masks over their eyes. Those who see them like that can’t quite comprehend just how young Batman looks without the cowl.

“The moon looks so big,” a sleepy Robin mumbles, his cheek squished against Batman’s shoulder.

“That’s ‘cause it’s so much closer here,” Batman tells him, his voice incredibly soft. “Can you see where Gotham would be?”

Robin’s head turns just slightly, looking toward the Earth, and he hums, a fist moving up to scrub at his eye.

“S’over there,” he points. “With all the clouds ‘n stuff.”

“Looks tiny from up here, huh?”

“Yeah.”

Robin mouth opens in a comically wide yawn, then he shoves his face in Batman’s neck.

“S’not gonna fall from the sky, is it?”

“Nah.” Batman shifts his arms, holding Robin a little tighter. “This place is in orbit, kinda like how the moon is. It’s not gonna fall.”

“Would you catch it if it did?”

“I’d steal us a ship from here so fast, I wouldn’t need to catch it.”

“Kay.”

Batman presses his cheek to the top of Robin’s head, stray curls tickling his nose.

“Do you wanna practice your flips and shit in the morning? I’ll spot you.”

“Yeah,” Robin mumbles, “And I wanna scare Green Lantern by poppin’ outta the vent again. He screamed like a little girl when I landed on the table.”

“Do a flip when you do it and I’ll smuggle you an ice cream bar from their kitchen.”

“Deal.”

Batman has to twist his left arm funny so he can shake Robin’s hand, his right arm occupied by holding Robin up, and they shake on it.

Batman lets out a snort of a laugh, looking at Robin with an incredibly fond look on his face.

For everyone else, it’s a very long four days of them being menaces and encouraging each other to do more and more odd shit.

When they get turned back, they act like nothing was out of the ordinary. They’re not even phased when they’re reminded of some of the things they got into.

[earlgreylatte]

Nicknames and Pet Names

Peter Parker: ‘Bug’! I can you two calling each other ‘bug’ and ‘bug boy’ respectively. Definitely has a roster of petnames depending on the mood; ‘sweetie’ to comfort you, ‘champ’ to make you laugh, ‘pipsqueak’ to tease you, etc. Definitely has squished your cheeks and called you ‘chipmunk’ before. Of course, nothing beats your name for him.

Johnny Storm: Don’t let him see you do something embarrassing because he won’t let you live it down. Trip in front of him once, and he’ll be calling you ‘stumbles’ for the next year. Also likes using loveydovey names like ‘firefly’ and ‘good lookin’. ‘Hotstuff’ and ‘boo’ are also some of his favourites, and probably what he refers to you as on his Instagram posts.

Matt Murdock: No one, and I mean no one, says ‘sweetheart’ like he does, whether he says it when he’s comforting you or when he’s about to go down on you, it is so insanely attractive. Definitely a ‘yes dear’ guy. He definitely has a nickname to reflect your nature/dynamic to him, like ‘sunshine’, ‘angel’, etc.

Wade Wilson: Revoke his right to use pet names!! It’s like he wants to give everyone diabetes with the names he comes up with. Hit him so he never calls you ‘pussy cat’ again. ‘Sugar plum’, ‘Carebear’, and ‘Angel face’ are his more tolerable ones. Probably stacks pet names on top of each other, creating an actual Frankenstein of mushiness.

Clint Barton: ‘Birdie’ or ‘dove’ definitely. Less into pet names, and more into making nicknames, I think, but definitely throws around ‘babe’ or ‘angelface’. Definitely makes up a teasing nickname based on your alias if you have one.

Scott Summers: ‘Honey’ or ‘dear’ because he is literally a wife guy. I can see him call you ‘peanut’ somewhat awkwardly when you two first get together. But ‘honey’ really does suit him, the type to rub your arms comfortingly while whispering sweet nothings.

Kurt Wagner: Mein gott, German time! ‘Engel’, ‘Schatz’, ‘liebling’, etc, are his go to. Also refers to you as his heart, his light, and the like because he wants you to always know how much you mean to him and all the ways you’ve changed his life for the better.

Logan Howlett: We all know ‘bub’ is his go to, but he definitely calls you ‘doll’, ‘bunny’, and ‘lovely’. Anything that points out the juxtaposition between how…pretty you are and how…Logan he is. Could also see him going for someone mousy, which of course would come with its own array of nicknames.

Masterlist

[softaestluv]

Breaking Bread

Simon Riley who is quite the anomaly of a man, or human, rather. Your lieutenant who has only spoken a handful of words to you.

Simon Riley who happens to be sat at the only open table in the mess hall.

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Sergeant! Reader

Tags: Short n’ Sweet, Fluff, Pining, Angst, Slow burn if you squint, Food as a love language, Eventual romance, Eventual smut, Military inaccuracies

Pt. 1, Pt. 2, Pt. 3, Pt. 4, Pt. 5 | ao3 | masterlist

Simon Riley who is quite the anomaly of a man, or human, rather. Stands at 6’4, a total of 220 pounds, takes up double the space of most people. Lieutenant of the special forces, done irredeemable acts with his bare hands. A brute. Forbidding. Curt with his words. The terrifying wraith and apparition of many— of you.

Simon Riley who is your lieutenant. Who you’ve seen complete such acts, though they were always finished within a blink of an eye. Blood splattering before you even had time to complete your blink, ordering you to follow behind before you’ve even realized what happened. Quite grateful that you were on the same side as him, any enemy of his faced far worse fate than the nerves that ate at your skin in his presence.

Simon Riley who’s only spoken a handful of words to you. To anyone, really. A man of few words. Nothing more than orders during a mission or training. Muttered gravelly. Low and demanding. Said in such a way that you had no option, but to react, obey. Though you don’t think it’s necessarily a you problem, at least you hope it’s not. He seems to be this way with everyone outside of 141, but you suppose Soap talks enough for the both of them.

Simon Riley who happens to be sat at the only open table in the mess hall. Sergeant’s squished tightly onto other tables as if to avoid sitting with their menacing lieutenant. Which is how it usually is, sat alone unless Soap is by his side.

You debate smuggling the food on your tray into your pant pockets and eating in your room in solitude. Not because it would be so horrible to sit with him; you wouldn’t mind sitting in silence. He’s never been terribly rude to you— outside of his usual demeanor.

He just seems social disinterested and you know he wouldn’t necessarily want you there. Make him feel forced to speak if he doesn’t want to or make him angry for disturbing his peace. A wrath you wouldn’t want to face, you’ve seen the laps he’s made sergeants run for irritating him.

For the sake of his comfort you almost turn away, already reaching to unbutton your pants pockets, but before you can his gaze finds yours across the hall. Piercing. Tense.

Your feet move on their own accord, walking towards his table because you think ruining his comfort for a day is better than the rejection he might feel watching his sergeant stuff her pants full of bread and beans just to avoid sitting with him.

"Hi, Lieutenant," You start, pinching the inside of your cheek between words, "Is it okay if I sit with you?”

You pause for a response, but as you should have expected, nothing comes, so you begin to ramble, “I know you usually sit alone. I won’t bug you! I promise, I’ll sit quietly.”

A grunt of approval is all he gives you; a small smile smearing across your lips as you sit down opposite of him.

And true to your word you don't disturb him, don’t even look up from your plate to glance at him. The both of you just eat in silence, no words shared between the two of you. You scarf the food down quicker than Ghost does because training drains you of all your energy. Makes the military food taste like a five star meal even though it’s bland.

Finish your plate first, despite the fact that Ghost started eating before you. When you’re done you stand up, quietly mumbling your gratitude to him for sharing 'his space’ with you before disappearing in the hall.

When tomorrow comes, you walk past his empty table even though sharing lunch with him wasn’t entirely terrible. He doesn’t let you get far, a gloved hand finds your wrist, stops you in your movements. You look down at him with wide eyes.

“Ah, Lieutenant?”

He points to the empty space in front of him, “Your seat.”

Your eyes widen, impossibly so, but still, you sit.

[delugyu]

bsf kai and dry humping send tweet

ohhh anon u get me so well 😇

(wc: 2.3k / warnings: college au, virgin loser kai, corruption kink, some humiliation, dry humping, cumming in pants)

Hanging out with Kai is usually a very routine thing: you get food somewhere around campus, you bring him back to your dorm, and you talk for hours until he decides to leave—or until you convince him to go to some frat party with you.

“This sucks. I need to stop saying yes to you all the time.” His words make you laugh. You both know he’ll never stop saying yes to you.

“You might enjoy things more if you actually try to have fun,” you say. “Or if you have one of these.” You hold your plastic cup out to him until he takes it from you, staring at it like it’s some foreign object.

“I don’t drink,” he finally replies, looking up at you again. It’s funny how awkward he looks with the drink in his hand. He’s so stiff and uncomfortable.

“Liar. We got wasted together last month.”

He flushes red at your callout. “That’s different! It was only us!”

You roll your eyes. “Everyone’s drunk here. What difference does it make?”

Kai pouts and looks off to the rest of the people. Everyone’s dancing and singing and playing drinking games, meanwhile you and Kai are stuck leaning against some wall where no fun is going on. Boring! You take his arm and start pulling him towards the party, throwing him a grin over your shoulder as his eyes bug out at your boldness.

You stop when you’re deep enough into the crowd, turning to Kai expectantly. You laugh when you notice how tense he is. It’s like he forgot how to move his body like a normal human.

“Chug this!” you shout over the music, poking the cup that’s still in his hand. He looks around like he’s scared he’ll get caught doing something bad. You sigh, “Fine, don’t. Give me that.” You take the cup back from his hand and swallow the rest of the liquor. You hiss at the burn in your throat before throwing the empty cup over his shoulder, not caring where it lands.

Kai’s head turns to follow the cup’s movement, but you bring his attention back to you with a hand on his face. “Shouldn’t we pick that up?” he asks, even as you’re squishing his cheeks together in your hand.

“Let the frat boys take care of it tomorrow,” you say. He looks like he’s about to argue against that, so you continue before he can, “Do you want to dance?”

He’s taken aback. Your hand drops from his face to his shoulder, resting there as he figures out his answer. “Dance? I don’t—I’m not really”—

“You don’t want to dance with me?” You pout, trying to tug at his heartstrings. He opens and closes his mouth stupidly, and it makes you giggle. You put your other hand on his chest and blink innocently at him.

“I’ll dance with you,” he answers, cracking under the pressure like you knew he would. As previously established: he will always say yes to you.

“Yay!” Your smile must be lighting up the whole room with how much joy you feel. You tug Kai closer to you, trying to get him into position, but he keeps his hands still as stone beside him. “Kai. Hands here,” you say as you guide them to your hips.

“Oh. Sorry.” You hold in your laugh, not wanting to fluster him too much.

“It’s okay. I forgive you,” you tease, poking his nose. The two of you stand there unmoving, and it’s cute at first, but you get a little tired of it after a minute. You let the music guide your hips, singing along to the song and enjoying yourself. Kai is more like an accessory than a dance partner with how he just watches you.

You trail your finger down his chest, trying to encourage him to be a little more playful and let loose. It seems to have the opposite effect—his hands go stiff on your hips, fingers digging in.

“Have fun! Don’t think about it so much,” you say before swaying again. You try moving closer to him so your bodies press together, but he takes a step back. You pull your eyebrows together, looking at him in question.

“I-I’m probably not the best person to dance with,” he stammers out. You roll your eyes.

“Getting all awkward with me now? Come on, I thought we were closer than that.” Your faux pout returns to your face, but it leaves when you see the frown on his. Oh no, you didn’t embarrass him, did you?

You’re quick to try to fix your mistake. “Or not! We can always sing. I like singing too.”

His frown doesn’t leave his face. Okay, no singing! That’s fine too! You try thinking of something else.

“We can find an empty room and just hang out there?” you suggest, figuring he might not want to be surrounded by all these people anymore.

His face finally morphs into something less pitiful. You almost sigh in relief. “Let’s do that,” he says.

You push your way through the crowd until you’ve made it to the stairs. You groan when you see the endless sea of couples making out on them. You’d yell at them to get a room, but you don’t want them to take one from you and Kai.

“Sorry, coming through, don’t mind us,” you say as you squeeze past everyone.

“Oh my god. Stop,” Kai says, embarrassed. You wonder what it must feel like to care so much what people think of you.

You walk down the hall until you find an open room, bolting to it with a victorious cheer. Kai doesn’t follow with as much enthusiasm as you, but he still looks happy enough to be alone with you finally. You lock the door and turn on the light, looking around the room.

“Oh yeah. This place screams male college student,” you say, walking around the room. You pick up a bottle of lotion on the desk. “Seriously? Shameless,” you tsk.

“You probably shouldn’t go through people’s stuff,” Kai says. You turn to him, seeing him already sitting on the bed. He’s got a pillow thrown over his lap. You raise your eyebrow at that.

“You see a bottle of lotion and feel a little tingle down there?” His face glows red at your insinuation.

“No!!!” he retaliates, voice squeaking.

“Then what’s that about?” you say through barely held-back laughter. He hides his face in his hands. You almost want to coo at him. You join him on the bed and push his hands away from his face. He can barely make eye contact with you. “Hellooooo?” you giggle.

When he doesn’t respond, you try moving the pillow away yourself—you’re in a teasing mood—but Kai holds the pillow firmly against him. You really can’t contain your laughter now.

“Are you seriously hard right now?!” You find the situation so amusing. “From what?”

He whines and leans down until his face is buried in the mattress. You almost feel bad for torturing him so much, but he signed up for this when he became your best friend.

“From you,” he murmurs into the blankets, so muffled that you’re not sure you heard him right. You lift his head up a bit by his hair.

“Come again?” you prompt.

His face is still bright red. “When we were dancing. I just… ugh.” You go silent at that for a second. He’s hard because you danced with him..?

“That’s kinda hot.” It slips out before you can catch it. Not that you would have held it back, anyway.

He perks up when you say that. “What?” he asks.

“It’s hot that you got hard from that. Makes me feel good, actually,” you laugh, but it doesn’t sound teasing anymore. Kai straightens himself out, sitting up completely. He stares at you like he’s trying to decide if you’re pulling a prank on him or not.

You guess you’ll have to help him see how much you mean it. You swipe the pillow from his lap. He scrambles for it back, but you’re too quick for him this time. You giggle when your eyes land on his bulge.

“I’m sorry. I’m really not a pervert. I’m just…” he struggles to finish his thought. He bites his lip and looks away.

“Just what?” you ask, still hanging onto his words. His eyes meet yours, afraid to make his confession.

“A virgin,” he whispers.

Oh. A beat of silence follows. Something very evil and sinister creeps into your mind—nothing unusual—but this time, it’s centered around defiling your best friend. You had no clue that all this time he was a little virgin!

“Isn’t that so cute?” you coo, crawling up to him. He backs up, propping himself up on his elbows as you invade his space. He stutters out your name, looking at you with wide eyes. You smile down at him, tracing your hand down his chest much like you did earlier.

“Cute?” he asks, all breathy and nervous. You really try so hard not to smirk like an evil bitch at that, but you can’t help it. You are kind of an evil bitch.

“So cute,” you say. He gulps when your hand keeps traversing down his torso. His eyes follow your fingers down, down, down, until they reach his pants. Your hand dances along the front of his jeans, just lightly tracing over the button and hem.

Your pussy’s throbbing now, delighted at the thought of making Kai squirm beneath you. You meet his eyes with a whole lot of hope, praying he’ll let you have your fun. He shrinks a bit under your eager gaze.

“Can we help each other out?” you ask, crawling over him even more until your hips are hovering over his lap. Your noses touch, and you feel his shaking breaths on your face. You brush his hair back, wanting to put your hands all over him.

“I don’t know how to… help… a woman…” he admits meekly. It takes all your effort to not smother his face with kisses.

“Just lay down, I’ll take care of it,” you say sweetly. He blinks up at you, looking so much like a doll that it just makes you want to ruin him even more. As soon as he lays back, you push your hips down to meet his. His reaction is immediate, giving you a loud whine already.

“Such sweet sounds,” you praise as you start rocking your hips gently against him. He drops his mouth open, panting as you move just barely over him. You take his hands into yours, lacing your fingers together and holding his hands beside his head. “My cute best friend,” you coo, making him look away. That just endears you more.

“You’re embarrassing me,” he mutters, making you laugh. You kiss his jaw.

“My sweet Kai~” You seriously can’t stop yourself, the words spill out of you so freely. He can handle a bit of embarrassment, it’s okay.

You let yourself admire the view for a minute before leaning back to gain more control of your movements. You roll your hips as you grind against him, letting out a content sigh when your clit gets some stimulation. Kai whimpers when you speed up just a bit, trying to get a little more pleasure out of this.

“Y-you’re cute, too…” Kai says, then gasps at your hips rolling harder against him. “Like that, please, don’t stop!” he urges, looking up at you desperately.

How could you say no to that? You keep up your pace, making sure to keep him whining and moaning. “I’m glad you think I’m cute,” you say. Your hand moves up to play with your tits, twisting and pinching your nipples to get yourself there faster. You moan when Kai’s hips jolt underneath you.

His breath is hitching and his hips keep pushing up further into you. You grin, excited to push him over the edge. “Is my Kai gonna cum? Gonna make a mess in your pants like a virgin?”

“Mhm,” he hums out in response, nodding rapidly. You hasten your pace against him, pressing into him harder, moaning above him as you do. Your clit throbs with every roll, encouraging you to grind more deeply to reach your high.

“Cum for me, baby, tell me how good it feels,” you say, trying to get him to spill in his jeans. It seems to work, judging by the way he pushes his hips up against you as much as he can, so much that you feel the way his cock twitches in his jeans. It makes your head spin.

“Feels good! Ah, feels so good! Thank you, thank you!” His cries are what finally push you over the edge, hips stuttering as your legs tighten against him, muscles contracting as your orgasm rips through you. You’re left panting and trying to ride out your orgasm, letting your hips move sloppily against his until you’re both shaking from overstimulation. You slow down gradually, regaining your composure as the lustful haze clears the room.

“Fuck,” you groan, fully coming to a stop. Kai sits up and buries his head in your shoulder.

“Fuck,” he repeats like he’s agreeing. His chest heaves as he gets his breathing back under control. You tangle your hand in his hair, mindlessly playing with it as he breathes softly against you.

“So… virgin, huh?” you ask, grinning wickedly. Kai rolls his eyes.

“Spare me the jokes,” he says. “You already made me cum my brains out. Thanks for ruining my jeans, by the way.”

“That was all you.” You pat him on the back. “Now you’re one step closer to getting pussy. Look at you go, champ.”

He groans and leans further into you. “You’re the worst.”

“Uh-huh. Not what you said five minutes ago.”

“You were still the worst then, too,” Kai deadpans, making you laugh.

“You love me so much, don’t lie.”

“I do,” he says, joining in with your laughter.

[revelboo]

I’m sorry- I just discovered Flatline and I’m making it everyone’s problem since he checks so many of my monsterfucker boxes. I’m also absolutely mashing some of his ROTF comic aspects with his IDW/G1. Absolutely @drabbletron ‘s fault

Medic

Flatline x Reader

• Venting and reaching to pick you up and deliberately move you to the far end of the counter and away from his patient trying to lure you closer, Flatline growls a warning at Onslaught. Don’t you have any self preservation instincts at all? Trusting everyone, him included. And you just stare up at him in confusion, not realizing that the other Decepticon will kill you just for fun. “Let me play with your little toy, doc,” Onslaught rumbles, watching you busying yourself straightening up anything you can pick up. And okay, you’re too small to really help, but it leaves him oddly warm that you’re trying. “I won’t make ‘em suffer. Why do you even have it?”

• Blinking at the big mech Flatline’s working on, you shiver. Well, that sounded ominous. But then his patients like to joke about squishing you, probably because of how small you are compared to them. Some of them even call you Bug, but you don’t think they mean anything by it. “I haven’t studied biological creatures as thoroughly as I’d like, that’s all,” Flatline growls, finishing a weld while you clean up. And you’re not really paying attention as his patient stands until his shadow falls across you. Hear Flatline snarl right as the big mech he was working on stumbles, hand smacking the counter and skidding into you to toss you into a rack of vials. ‘Oops,’ Onslaught laughs as you struggle to get back up and the bigger mech is leaving.

• Reaching to cup you, he growls at the broken glass you’re laying in. The sharp scent of copper filling the air as your arm bleeds sluggishly. And you whimper trying to help him get you up, cutting your little hands in the glass. “Close your eyes,” he growls and you don’t question him. But you never do, always trusting him. Glancing at the Medbay door to make sure no one’s around he shifts the plating at his chassis, freeing his secondary arms. Useful for surgery since they’re so much more dexterous, they’re still unusual enough that he hides them from everyone unless he needs them. Knows he’s different, a monster even to other Cybertronians. Learned to hide those things about himself other Cybertronians won’t accept early on, a battlemask to hide his sharp denta, augmented plating to let him keep his extra limbs bound and hidden. Carefully picking you up in his secondary hands, he examines the cuts and carries you to the sink. Reaching to turn on the water on low, he shifts you to his primary hands and uses his secondary to pick glass off of you. “You can’t trust everyone,” he mutters.

• “Eyes closed,” he growls, the words harsh when you try to look at him and your shoulders hunch. ‘I’m sorry,’ you whisper, feeling him removing shards of glass. “What am I supposed to do with you?” And you’re about to cry he sounds so disappointed and exasperated with you. Know you get in the way, that you aggravate him. But also that he’s kind when most of the aliens that come in his Medbay aren’t. They’re cruel, taunting you. Sometimes trying to hurt you like that one just did. “Why are you leaking? Is there glass in your eyes?” He asks sounding horrified and you shake your head as he moves you away from the water and you’re settled on a berth. “Keep them closed,” he growls.

• Venting in aggravation at himself for not protecting you, he finds the kit he’d put together when he’d first rescued you. Mass shifting and using his secondary hands to clean and bandage your cuts. None too deep or serious enough to need stitches and that’s a relief. And he cups your cheek, tensing when you grab his secondary hand. And your eyes open. Seeing what he tries so hard to hide. You don’t look at him, attention on his extra limbs as you press your cheek into his palm. “You don’t have to hide these, you know,” you whisper. “Sometimes you hold me with them when you���re recharging.”

• They make you feel safe. Protected. And he’s just staring at you like you weren’t supposed to know or say that. “I like when you hold me,” you say and he leans until his helm brushes your forehead. Feel him vent against you and you shift, hesitantly sliding yourself into his lap and those arms come around you as his optics shutter. Resting your head against him, hearing the familiar thrum of his spark, you wonder what he’d say if you told him you love him? That you need safe and kind. Need him.

• Resting his chin on top of your head, his main arms wrap around you, feeling the warmth of you, scenting you. What would you say if you saw his denta? Would you accept that, too? Or is there a limit to the amount of horror you can handle? He’s afraid to find out. Recharges every night with you against him, your warm softness sprawled on his chassis. His spike aching behind his panel when he comes online as you haunt his dreams, sometimes pressurizing in his recharge and he has to hide it away from you before you wake. Knows it’s from sharing a berth with you, carrying your scent on him. But it’s more than that, you’re his. So why fight himself over this? Cupping your chin to tip your head back, he brushes his cheek against yours. Angry at himself for not claiming you sooner, for not protecting you better. Because you’re fair game to mess with if you’re not claimed. “Strip for me, little one.” Because he’s done pretending that he doesn’t want you.

• Breath catching as his growling voice dips lower, you stare up at him. Trying to figure out if he’s serious. Because surely you’re just misunderstanding him? Maybe he wants to check for glass he missed? Those secondary hands brush your own, helping you out of your clothes and his stare is heated. As both sets of hands slide against you and you heat in response, you remember seeing his spike, hearing him murmur your name in his recharge and pretending to be asleep so you don’t embarrass him. And he’s laying you back, masked face sliding against your inner thighs as he shifts to cover you and those secondary hands grip your hips, lifting you up and he grinds against you. “I’m claiming what’s mine,” he growls and you’re on board with that, because you want him, want to claim him as yours. Arching feeling his spike pressurize between your bodies, he’s on his hands and knees over you as he adjusts you and you feel the length of him slide against you. Rocking himself against you as you hang under him, grabbing at his chassis for some semblance of control when he grinds on you.

• Venting to scent you, he wants to put his mouth on you. To taste you, but knows his denta might be a dealbreaker. So he ruts and grinds until you grow slick and then he’s shifting you to line you up with his spike and you’re shockingly tight, all wet heat as he rocks himself against you. And you’re squirming, hips rolling, both of you groaning when his spike sinks suddenly into you. Hips pumping as he uses his secondary hands to move you on his spike and he growls. Hears you whimpering his name and he wants to pin you on your belly, rut into you and hold you to him with his extra limbs. Decides he’ll do that next as his primary hands dig into the berth, denting the metal. Sharp denta gritted behind his mask as he moves you faster, feels you tremble against him and you cry out when you climax, fisting his spike. Elbow smacking down as your shoulders hit the berth, he’s thrusting urgently against you. His. Why did he wait so long for this? Pressing his face against your neck, he overloads inside you, hips rocking and he lets his mask retract. Skims his mouth against the thrum of your pulse as he fills you. And clicks it back into place before he can give in to the urge to bite. To mark you. ‘Flatline?’ You whimper and he eases up his grip on your waist, feeling guilty knowing he’s going to leave bruises. “I have you.” And you’re his. Always have been.

[impishjesters]

Touch starved Jax x Reader (SFW version)

warning(s): suggestive themes, nonsexual physical intimacy note(s): it's not mentioned but any physical contact is consensual, you'd immediately back off if he showed any real discomfort. A/N: I originally had a more NSFW version of this in mind.. but I decided to do a more SFW version for now with suggestive themes. I could be persuaded to do a more NSFW version though..

Jax has been stuck here for god knows how long, he’s met people who came and those who “left” and never got attached or close

until you showed up…

friendship has him confused and conflicted because it’s so much more handsy than he remembers offline

you’d been far more touchy than the others, holding his hand and pulling him along to wherever just to keep hanging on him

throwing your legs over his when the two of you were chilling, or even lying across his legs

climbing on him and then having the audacity to make him give you a piggyback ride??

Ragatha tried to warn you so many times in the beginning that testing him like that was a really bad idea

not that it stopped you, whether it was stupidity or bravery you kept touching him, and honestly? as much as it bugged him in the start, now he looks forward to it

no one says anything, but he kind of looks like a dejected puppy when you pull away from him after being glued to him for more than ten minutes

like to say the two of you were warm is a stretch, but it just feels warm ya know?

and the only other times he’s really touched someone or been touched was to shove someone, throw their arm around them, and yank them along. small stuff ya know?

so when you suddenly just drop into his lap one day and cuddle into him? he’s absolutely shook

if others are around when you do this be prepared to get chewed out later, but first, he’s gotta stop blue screening and actually remember the two of you aren’t alone

later though? oh, he’s gonna complain that you can’t just do that with others around, there might be a tiny argument but once it’s settled he’ll tell you to do it again…

if there’s this much touching and contact as friends..what about if the two of you were dating??

when that day does hit, Jax..is vastly unprepared

cuddling and hand-holding get cranked up from a 5 to a 12, even in front of the others (honestly half of them saw this coming? if anything they were grateful the two of you stopped beating around the bush already. except Kinger, he still seems confused every time he sees it)

the back and shoulder rides don’t change much except there’s definitely a hand or two sliding further up the leg (thumb stroking over your ankle or calf) or directly on the ass—what don’t blame him for enjoying the squish

the thing that really makes the difference from friends to lovers? kissing

(well okay there’s verbal change but this is about physical contact, that’s a whole other can of worms he’s unprepared for)

Jax has kissed before—just not while here…and sure his teeth might make things a lil tricky but the two of you are very quick to learn how to work around that wink wink

now Jax actually likes taking a break from following the idiots around to just laze in his or your bed with you laying on him or limbs tangled and just kissing. doesn’t even have to be on the lips, face, hands, arms, man has no limits (he's eating this shit up)

man is not ready for those little laze dates when they turn into any form of heavy petting… let’s just say he’s absolute putty in your hand..