#his weakness is the top shelf

[kittyoverlord]

The new Pokemon starters.

[sweetfushi]

imagining gojo with his very pregnant wife and his complete devotion to you and the little one. his vulnerability is almost stunning as you watch him lay on his stomach between your legs, large hands caressing your belly. he’d mumble things along the lines of “i can’t wait to meet you” and “stop causing mummy so much pain”. he’s not oblivious to the giant grin on your face but refuses to look at you in fear of his eyes watering. he refuses to let you do anything around the house, even helps you with your general hobbies and interests in any way he can. he’s always a step ahead of you, anticipating risks within your home and ensuring that everything is baby proof, ready for the little one. cooking is his one weakness, his previous attempts consisting of burnt pans (yes plural) and a few decent creations, albeit only adequate. however, he doesn’t mind watching you engage with the domestic space, observing the way you waddle around the kitchen and get exhausted from the slightest of demanding actions (demanding being reaching for the butter at the top shelf of the fridge). he can’t get enough of you, and he can’t wait to double his love for you once the little one is born.

sweetfushi © do not modify, repost, translate, copy or use my post in any way. all that is included in this post, aside from the fictional characters and universes, belong to sweetfushi (zee).

[rninies]

✮ plushy overload

౨ৎ gojo satoru x reader. fluff, gn!reader, reader is a plushy lover, self indulgent btw because im a plushy lover — wc: 517

NOTES. it's canon gojo gets jealous of plushies btw (source: trust me)

“y/n for the last time please remove pompompurin and dumbo off of the bed.” satoru complains yet again for the tenth time today. “you never cuddle with me at night anymore!”

“look, toru.” you sigh, getting ready to explain to him again. “i cannot just put them back on my shelf. i love them, okay? my plushies are precious to me so don’t you dare ask me to put them on my shelf again.”

“do you love me or your plushies more?” satoru asks, crossing his arms. “it’s time to pick, y/n. and before you say anything, you can’t pick both.”

you gasp, not understanding why he’s suddenly so jealous of an inanimate object. “hey you can’t do this to me! i love the both of you a lot.”

“wow,” satoru claps dramatically. “you don’t love me anymore. y/n does not love me anymore. this is the worst day of my life. my life is flashing before my eyes. knees feeling weak. heart slowly-”

“toru stop being dramatic,” you say. “plushies have nothing against you.” you cup satoru’s face, giving him a sweet smile. “you’re the love of my life. the best thing that’s ever happened to me. i love you, okay?”

satoru pouts. “but you’re never putting them back on the shelf. i can’t cuddle you anymore! you know how much i love to cuddle you at night. it helps me sleep soundly.”

“and i sleep soundly when i cuddle my plushies.” satoru frowns once again once he hears you. “what? stop frowning. you try cuddling my plushies for once and you’ll understand what i mean.”

“no way.” satoru refuses. “i don’t want to cuddle my enemy.” he glares at the two innocent plushies sitting on the edge of the bed. “they are the worst enemies i have encountered in my life. i can’t even defeat them using my abilities!”

“touch them and i will not sleep on the same bed as you ever again.” you threatened, to which satoru immediately gulps. he gently pats the head of pompompurin, smiling at you (you know it’s a fake one). “good.”

once you have your back turned to him, he glares at the plushies. “it’s not over between us. one day, i will find a way to put you back on the shelf.”

“i can still hear you, toru.” you sigh. “wanna go out for lunch? i’m starving.”

“you heard nothing, sweetheart.” satoru says, chasing after you. “what do you wanna eat? takoyaki? ramen? pick anything you want and i’ll buy it for you.”

“if this is your way of coaxing me to put them on the shelf it’s not happening,” you say, grabbing your phone from the desk. you hear satoru groan behind you and can’t help but be amused. “but, since you’re so willing to buy me food today, i’ll cuddle you instead of the plushies tonight.”

satoru’s eyes immediately light up. “really?! aw, baby. you miss my touch too, do you?” you glare at him. “i love you.” he kisses the top of your head lovingly, intertwining your hands together. “let’s go.”

[cammys-imagines24]

•Being in a Relationship with Levi•

People are terrified of you.

Just because of the simple fact that you're Levi Ackerman's partner, so his scariness has by association, traveled to you as well.

You're treated with respect, everyone listens to you and goes out of their way to help you because if word got back to Levi that you had been mistreated, well...

Let's just say that it never ends well for the person who has dared to disrespect you.

He is the most thoughtful partner ever. Acts of service is his love language. He will remember everything about you.

How you like your drink of choice, your favorite flower, your favorite foods, if you're cold he will wrap his emerald cloak around you.

Your favorite flowers will show up on your bedside table with a note whenever he is away for a long time, your favorite drink, like tea or coffee, will show up on your office desk whenever you're swamped with work.

He'll memorize your fears, your dreams, your likes and dislikes.

Levi pined after you for so long before ever daring to start anything with you it's not even funny.

He's lost so many people and the thought of losing you, too, made him feel so weak and he hated feeling that way.

But then eventually he realized that he loved you whether you knew it or not, and you had made a home for yourself deep in his heart, all without trying to, so he just decided to tell you how he felt.

And since then he has had so many nightmares of you dying.

He wakes up, from what little sleep he manages to get and immediately searches for you.

The sight of you sleeping soundly, soft and warm, at his side comforts him in ways you cannot even imagine.

You don't know obviously, because you're asleep, but he will pull you close and whisper how much he loves you, grateful you're not conscious to hear the crack in his voice.

Levi may not be able to reach things on the top shelf for you, but he will personally lift you up in his arms so you'll be able to reach it yourself. Showing off just how effortlessly strong he is.

Calls you "love" in private or whispers it in your ear whenever others cannot overhear him.

Whenever you suggestively call him "Captain" he will have you bent over his desk in 10 seconds flat.

You two have had sex in his office more times than you can count.

Lowkey calls you his "wife" before you're even officially married.

Especially if you're being hit on by another man.

Levi will sidle up to your side, glare ice cold daggers at the scum, wrap an arm around the small of your waist and say to them, "Are you bothering my wife?"

They'll take one look at humanity's strongest soldier, how if looks could kill they'd be six feet under already and scamper away like a frightened mouse.

Matter of fact, Levi already bought your wedding ring a long time ago and he keeps it in his uniforms pocket always.

So whenever Levi goes out on missions, and fights titans beyond the walls, he can feel the weight of that ring and know that he has someone to return home to.

He will propose to you once the battle has been won, when the War is finally over, but until that day he will keep that ring as a reminder.

A promise to you, and you don't even know it yet.

Incredibly protective, but not in a controlling way. He knows you can handle yourself but also, you're the love of his life, so he is always ready to defend you.

There isn't anything Levi wouldn't do for you and he would protect you with his life.

He figures, you are his heart, so he will do everything he can to make sure you're both safe and alive.

[soul-controller]

Selfish Top Bottom

When it came to distinguishing whether a man was a top or a bottom, there was no way that anyone could look at Ryan Thompson and know that he was an absolute top. With the bulky and imposing physique of a powerlifter and an obscenely large cock that was instantly noticeable that no matter how loose or tight his pants were, the man could absolutely be the perfect individual to represent what a power top was.

Due to living in a relatively small urban town (at least in comparison to a huge city like Los Angeles or New York City), word seemed to travel fast around queer circles to the point where if you didn’t know who Ryan was, you at least knew of his reputation. He was a perpetual manwhore, constantly hooking up with anyone he wanted and discarding them immediately after they fulfilled his needs. Although most people understood that that was just the way that things worked in their community, the same could not be said about Mitchell. Although he had never actually met Ryan or been intimate with him, the young twink knew that it was someone he had no desire of ever interacting with. 

However, all of that changed once Mitchell found out that the hunk had hooked up with his best friend Shane and mistreated him once Ryan had came. As Shane recollected how the stud ridiculed the “pale” and “pathetic” man and told him to leave his apartment as soon as possible before threatening to beat his “weak pansy ass” up, Mitchell could only see red at the other man’s behavior. There was certainly no problem with hookup culture if that was how Ryan wanted to live his life, but Mitchell drew the line at blatant disrespect and homophobic rhetoric. So with that in mind, he decided to put a plan into action – one of complete revenge to teach a lesson to the asshole meathead. 

To Mitchell’s amusement, it didn’t take much for him to catch Ryan’s eye. All he had to do was show up to the same club where Ryan had met Shane and sneak peeks at the ginger-haired hunk’s beefy body and playfully avert his gaze once Ryan realized that someone was staring. After a good 30 minutes of this back and forth, the beefy stud and twink finally met before heading off to Ryan’s place to “have some fun”.

Once they were walking up the stairs to the apartment, Mitchell wasted no time giving a performance of a lifetime by pretending to be fully infatuated as he felt up the man’s thick muscles and remarked about how hot and sexy the stud was. As a result, the duo couldn’t even make it into the bedroom before they ducked into the first bathroom they saw to get more intimate. Upon undressing himself and helping Ryan take off his clothes as well, Mitchell’s right hand began to traverse down the man’s pectoral shelf and cobblestone abs as he quietly whispered under his breath. As the twink’s dainty fingers finally began to graze along Ryan’s impressive and girthy manhood, Mitchell then grit his teeth and smirked as he forcefully wrapped around the man’s cock and balls and tugged.

The immediate tension caused Ryan to gasp and scream in shock, but rather than intense pain, the tugging was soundtracked by a resounding POP that echoed through the spacious bathroom. As he looked down at himself, a guttural scream escaped his lips as he noticed two things – his crotch was completely flat reminiscent of a Ken doll and Mitchell’s frail hand was still holding onto his real cock and balls.

As Ryan desperately asked what was going on, he watched in pure horror as he watched the man whisper more words under his breath which led to a chain reaction onto his detached genitalia. Before his eyes, his cock and balls were losing its realistic organic composition and shifting to gain an artificial shimmer – his cock was turning into a rubber dildo (with a suction cup even added onto the end to fully seal the deal).

While the hunk was acting absolutely manic at the transformation that had befallen him, Mitchell was completely calm and even joyful as he savored the other’s utter helplessness. Revenge felt oh so sweet… and he still had one more thing planned to make it even sweeter! As he continued to recite the words underneath his breath, the young warlock couldn’t help but smirk as he watched his magic going to work immediately. In an instant, the man’s firm muscular butt had been replaced with an insanely large and flabby ass that would wobble with every step he took. 

Despite wanting to wring out the pathetic twink’s neck, Ryan realized that there was something preventing him from either speaking to the man or physically attacking him. So instead, he could only watch in disbelief as the twink cockily stared at the man before turning and exiting the apartment.

Now alone with his new body and desires, Ryan stood at the sink and looked back at the dildo that still hung from a nearby wall. Despite how eager his mind was in regards to getting fucked, the perpetual top had no practice bottoming and thus knew what he needed to do before he got on Grindr and searched for a man to fill his needy hole…

Eager to read more stories like this? Head over to my Patreon to discover tons of hot transformation fiction including monthly mini-stories like this one!

[imamotherfuckingstar-lord]

confessions of a swordsman

zoro x reader

summary: Zoro and you are in a thing - what kind of thing? Who knows but Sanji decides to flirt with you to get Zoro jealous.

The laundry line had been put up for the day, Nami and you were on folding duty. A blanket was laid out on the grass, and you sat comfortably folding clothes into piles for each crew member. Nami was taking clothes off the line and placing them in a basket. The two of you had an efficient process and admittedly were having a good time just chatting. The navigator finally pulled down the last article of clothing and joined you on the blanket. She started matching socks and asked what your plans were for the next island docking.

“I need some new clothes,” she sighed, holding up one of her shirts with a large hole in it. “I don’t even know how this happened.”

“I think we could all use some new clothes.” You held up one of Zoro’s shirts and stuck a finger through the tear at the neckline. Nami laughed when you wiggled a finger at her. “He hates picking out clothes though…I’ll probably just pick out a few things for him.”

Nami smirked. “Wow. Are you just so domesticated.”

“It’s not like that,” you shrugged, folding the shirt, and placing it in Zoro’s pile of clothes. Your eyes didn’t meet hers and that’s all she needed.

“Do you want it to be like that?”

 “I’m just happy being on this ship and being by Luffy’s side.”

Your smile was bright and eager, but Nami saw through the feign contentment in your eyes, but she also knew there was truth to my statement. She said nothing else, but you weren’t foolish enough to not think anything of it. For one, you were sure it was obvious to all that Zoro had a place in your heart and maybe, you in his. Not that either of you would ever admit it out loud – whatever was going on between him and you were a mystery to you like everyone else. The swordsman had a one-track mind, and you knew that from the first time you met. In the beginning, the two of you had bonded over trying to keep Luffy alive. Real friendship bloomed through late night drinking and exchanging stories, triumphs, laughter. Then one night, when everyone else went to bed, he kissed you under the moonlight. His kiss was eager but insecure until you kissed him back. You slept together that night and most nights after that – whenever privacy allotted.

But he never called it what it was or could be or should be.

Neither did you.

Now it’s been months of this, and you were trying your best to not want him in ways he wasn’t willing to give. Not that you really knew what his willingness would amount to because you never talked about our relationship. It was confusing. But you also didn’t want to be the one that needed more, who craved more because it felt weak.

“All done.”

You smiled at Nami and divvyed up the piles to deliver the clean laundry. She left with her basket of clothes to take back to our dorms, and you made your way to the guy’s quarters. You knocked first but when no one answered you walked in; you were surprised to see Zoro napping but tiptoed around the room and placed each pile on different beds. When it came to the napping man’s pile of clothes, you moved to his portion of the wardrobe and placed them on a shelf. You nearly made it to the door when he called out your name and you turned.

“What’s up?”

“Come here,” he murmured, eyes hazy with sleep. He was on his back when you approached, and he quickly pulled you down to the bed. You fell on top of him, hands on his chest as he wrapped an arm effortlessly around your waist. His hand snaked around your neck and pulled you down, hair falling over his face. He grinned slightly and yanked you downwards for a kiss. Your body reacted in the way it always did when he touched you, and you wanted nothing more than to let him ruin you, but he kissed you hard once more and released you.

His eyes closed and then he started to snore.

You rolled your eyes and got off the bed, bringing his discarded blanket off the floor to cover him up. His hair was pushed back from his forehead, and you touched his cheek; his skin went warm and red, like he was blushing. He looked peaceful and you left him to his nap; needing something cold to drink to ease the heat of his lips on yours.

…

The kitchen smelled like baked fish and fresh bread; you sauntered toward the kitchen island and asked Sanji if he needed help. He refused but asked you to sit and keep him company, offering up a bread roll when you agreed. The roll was warm and buttery. You groaned and thanked the man, but going quiet as he worked around the stove.

“You’re awfully quiet over there. What did that idiot do to you?”

See, everyone knew.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Sanji smirked, lighting a cigarette. He pointed a spatula at you and said you were a bad liar. “You can do better, by the way, but I guess I can’t say I’m blind. Everyone can see the way you two look at each other – as sick as that makes me.”

His dramatics made you smile. “I don’t even know what us is. I mean, we all know how talkative Zoro is.”

The cook laughed with a shrug, deciding you could help, and motioned for you to come help with dicing. You got up and moved around next to him, he handed you a knife and instructed you on how to dice the green onions. You worked side by side for twenty minutes while he gave you advice on how to talk to Zoro – as much as that pained him. “He’s a competitive asshole. So, work with that.”

“How so?”

Sanji watched as you plated the salmon, nodding to the door just as it swung open from the deck. Your eyes went to Luffy who barged in with a smile and Zoro who had followed him, fresh from his nap. “Here, try this.”

The cook had grabbed you by the chin, turning your head gently to him. With his other hand, he spoon fed you a taste of the desert pudding and your cheeks went red. It was delicious but Sanji’s eyes weren’t on you – they were on Zoro’s, who was glaring from the doorway. You grabbed a hold of the spoon and Sanji released you, patting you lightly on the head before announcing that dinner was ready. Unable to even look at Zoro, you wiped your mouth with a kitchen cloth and helped Sanji serve the plates. After making sure everyone had a plate, you sat in the empty spot next to Zoro. He stiffed a little as you sat but then relaxed when you asked how his nap was. He smirked and just asked if you wanted some ale. The rest of the dinner went uneventful. The food was delicious, the drinks cold, and the conversations were lively. You offered to help Sanji with the dishes, but Zoro pointed it you already helped with dinner.

“Let the lazy cook do the dishes.”

Sanji retorted back with a curse but gave you a knowing smile. You stole a peek at Zoro and noted jealously in his eyes – Sanji was right, but you weren’t sure how much you wanted to push it. Instead, you asked Zoro if he wanted to come to the library with you. “I found that book we were talking about.”

“If Mosshead doesn’t want to enjoy literature with you, I’d be happy to after the dishes. We can light some candles, drink some wine…”

You looked over to the counter, where Sanji was arranging the dishes; his eyes were smoldering and kind, you wanted to laugh at his thoughtful attempts to help you, but the way Zoro was fuming next to you – it seemed like he was enjoying torturing his crew mate.

“Do the damn dishes, idiot.” Zoro grumbled, reaching for your hand. His large fingers around your wrist were surprising. He had never touched you in front of the others and everyone, but Brooke and Franky were around now. No one really paid attention or was trying not to, as Zoro pushed back in his chair and got up. His eyes narrowed down to you, but then a softness overcame his entire face, and he asked if you were done.

All you could manage was a nod.

Then he helped you up from your chair and led you out of the kitchen, towards the library. He didn’t say a word until you were in the library and then he dropped your hand. He moved toward the wall of books and spoke with his back to you.

“If something’s going on between the cook and you, just tell me. I can take it.”

His back tensed as he waited for you to answer him.

“You’re a real idiot.”

Zoro whipped around and cursed at you. “I’m not an idiot! You’re the one flirting with that – that – Euro trash!”

“I wasn’t flirting but even if I was, why do you care?” He seized at your question. “Well, why do you care, Zoro? We’ve never defined whatever this is.”

It was clear that he was flustered and angry, eyes burning with annoyance, but you stood your ground. All you wanted was to hear it from him; you knew Zoro was a man of action over words, but you needed this. Even if he said he didn’t want you, that he could do without you – at least he would have said it. He owed you that much.

“What the hell do you want from me?”

His voice was husked, desperate for reasoning.

“I love you.”

The words came fumbling out of your mouth with a huge relief to your body. It felt great, airing out your feelings and even if he couldn’t reciprocate, at least you said it. You stood there with the moonlight dancing through the windows and could only see Zoro lost in thought. Then, seconds later, he snapped out of it.

“Don’t move,” he seethed through his teeth before storming out of the library. You stood there in disbelief and for a moment, you were afraid that he wasn’t going to come back. That he was going to walk away from you and that would be the end of it.  For a moment, you felt feign resolve; you’d get through it because you got through everything hard in your life.

Then his voice spoke from the library door and when you turned, he seemed more relaxed. He stared at you; hands crossed against his chest, cheeks a bit marooned. He looked proud and when you asked where he had gone, he smirked.

“I went to tell that cook to stay away from you.”

“You did?”

Zoro grinned, walking toward you with a bit of swagger. “I don’t need to confess anything to the rest of them or anyone, but you needed me to, so I did. I told them all that I loved you and for now on, we belong to each other.”

Your heart swayed as Zoro took your face in his hands, rubbing his thumb across your bottom lip. “Don’t play games with me. Just be straightforward, okay? If I catch anyone flirting with you again, I’m kicking their ass, got it?”

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you nodded. “I got it. I’m sorry.”

Zoro kissed you roughly on the lips, hand resting at the base of your neck. His kisses turned softer after a minute, and then he pulled away to hold you against him. You felt safe in his arms and relief washed over you, tears forming in your eyes. When he felt a wetness seeping through his shirt, he gently pushed you off him.

“Shit. I didn’t mean for you to cry.”

Panicked filled his voice but you just laughed, brushing away the tears; touching the side of Zoro’s face, you watched as he melted against your touch and smiled. “I’m just really happy.”

Zoro chuckled lightly, pulling you back to him.  “Come here, you little crybaby.”

.....

tagging those who were interested - 💕love you zoro hoes 💕

@posessedbytheinternet @notthemainblog

@smolracoon25 @xentaipriest @xitara666

@rouzuchan @southside-otaku @dimplewonie

[upsidedownwithsteve]

Can we get a little 12 or 14 blurb from the clumsy prompt ☺️

number 14 for you lovely! “Hearing a crash or bang in the house and their partner isn’t in sight, cue immediate panic mode. meanwhile their partner just calls out casually that they’re okay or that something fell.”

There was a thump, a startling loud one, from upstairs.

Steve froze, eyes flickering upwards and his body tensing. Silence followed and the boy immediately dropped the spoon he’d been using to stir the macaroni, his shoulder colliding with the door frame in his haste to run to the stairs. His socked feet slipped on the floorboards, his brows knitted together in concern and as he reached the bottom of the steps, he called out, voice strained.

“Babe?”

He heard a small groan and some shuffling, his hand on the railing as he prepared himself to bolt up but your voice followed, suspiciously light and airy.

“It’s fine!” You called down to him. “Something just fell.”

Steve blew a breath from his nose, one eye twitching because he knew this, he knew you, but you were talking at least and that counted for something. His free hand went to his hip and if you’d seen him, you would have definitely called him a mother hen.

“Yeah?” He replied mildly. “Something fell?”

“Uhuh,” you shouted back. Something else clattered to the floor and Steve heard you swear under your breath.

He couldn’t see you from his position at the bottom of the stairs, but he could imagine your twisted pout, your pinched brows.

“Was it you?” Steve yelled.

A pause, a quiet bubble. He heard you sigh, long suffering and exasperated, a sign of you giving in. “Yeah,” you warbled, sounding incredibly mournful about your admission. “Yeah, it was me.”

Steve didn’t know if he should laugh or lecture you, so he just took the stairs two at a time instead. “You okay?” He asked as he made his way to the bedroom. He could see your shadow move under the door frame, so at least you had use of your legs. “You’re not bleeding, right?”

“God, I hope not,” you cracked. “M’wearing my favourite shirt— oh, hey.” Steve opened the door to you on the floor, crawling on your hands and knees you made a weak attempt to sweep up the fallen books.

“That’s my shirt,” Steve commented as he looked down at you.

You huffed, looking a little too warm and unharmed. No blood, no severed limbs. “I didn’t say it wasn’t,” you shot back, “I said it was my favourite.”

Steve snorted and held out his hands, grinning when you slapped your palms to his. He hauled you up, gentle as he examined you. No broken bones, no unfocused eyes.

“What did you do this time?” He murmured, taking your chin between a finger and thumb, tilting your head this way and that, checking for injuries. “Hmm? Apart from give me a damn heart attack.”

You frowned at the accusation, nipping at Steve’s fingers in response. “Couldn’t reach the top shelf,” you confessed. “Turns out I’m not eight foot tall and those shelves aren’t that strong.”

Steve gasped, all dramatic and faux surprise. “No way,” he whispered. “Who knew?”

You pulled a face, tucking your head into the crook of Steve’s neck and sighing. “Not me,” you mumbled against his throat, body going slack when the boy’s hands smoothed over the planes of your shoulders.

“Did know you have a boyfriend with much longer arms than you?” Steve mused. “He even played basketball.”

You grinned, pulling back from his embrace with a gasp as dramatic as Steve’s. “Oh my god, professionally?”

Steve’s eyes narrowed at you, an almost glare except his lips were lifting into a smile despite how hard he fought it. “Yeah, you seem fine,” he mused, nose nudging yours.

“I’ll still take a kiss,” you told him, grinning. “For medical purposes.”

And how could Steve say no to that? He wasn’t cruel.

[fangirl-dot-com]

Incorrect Quotes - Part 2

All of these were taken from Pinterest - again, I am not this funny

Special thank you to @sinfully-yoursss for asking for another one!

Max: Do you ever do anything except whine like a little bitch?  Y/n: Sometimes I whine like a BIG bitch 

Arthur (propping his feet up on a table): So, I heard you like bad boys Y/n: What? No??? Arthur (immediately taking his feet off the table): Oh thank God, that felt terrible 

Christian: Where’s Y/n and the child?  Toto: Y/n is teaching him how to drive Christian: Y/n never learned to drive??????

*Meanwhile*

Y/n: So there’s two pedals. Sometimes three but you can ignore the left one  Kimi: I don’t think…. Y/n: the lines on the road are more like suggestions than anything, like the speed limit Kimi: Are you positive that… Y/n: I’m not sure how to turn on the blinkers. Ready?  Kimi: Uhhhhh Y/n (shouting): GO GO GO GO  Kimi (screaming) *floors it* 

Nurse: I’m sorry sir, we can only allow family to see Miss L/n at this time  Christian: bold of you to assume I won’t legally adopt her right now  Y/n (sleepy, inside the hospital wing): you tell ‘em dad! 

Max: Your honor, my client is ready  Judge: And what does the defendant plead?  Max (mouthing the words): not guilty  Y/n (squinting at Max): hot milky Max (facepalms): take her away 

Y/n: Deck the halls with crippling depression  Charles: Fa la la la la, la la la la  Y/n: ‘Tis the season for emotional suppression  Arthur: Fa la la la la, la la la la  Max (passing through): what??? 

Y/n (on the phone): Hey Lance, can Arthur and I borrow $5000?  Lance: Why the hell do you need $5000?!  Y/n: For an escape room.  Lance: What kind of escape room costs 5 grand??  Y/n:  Y/n: Jail.

Max (answers phone): hello?  Y/n: It’s Y/n Max: What did she do this time  Y/n: no, it’s me, Max  Max: what did you do this time 

Y/n (on the floor): Go on…without me! Lando (crying while kneeling beside her): No! We can get through this together, just like we always do!  Y/n: There’s no time! You must defend our honor. Don’t let my death be for nothing!  Lando (sobbing): I can’t do this without you!  Y/n: Goodbye, old friend….(goes limp) Oscar (whispering to Max): They do realize this is just a dodgeball game, right?   Max (aiming at Lando): Oscar, this is war. Show no mercy. 

Oscar: One day, someone will think about you for the last time in eternity. You will be forgotten by the world  Y/n: not if I eat the Mona Lisa 

Yuki: I’m small but knowing  Y/n: You don’t be knowing what the top shelf looks like  Yuki:  Y/n:  Yuki: Bitch 

Y/n: Go big or go home! Vito (tears in his eyes): I am begging you, Y/n. For once in your life, go home. Just this once. Go. Home.  Y/n: I’m gonna go big

Y/n: I will do a lot of thing. But admitting I’m cold to Max after he told me to bring a jacket isn’t one of them 

Max: I sleep with a knife beside my bed  Carlos: I have a machete under my bed  Logan: I have a gun under my pillow  Arthur: Weak. Pathetic. All of you  Max: And what deadly weapon do you sleep with?  Arthur (putting on shades): Y/n 

Arthur: I will speak French between your legs  Y/n: That is the hottest thing I’ve ever been told  Lando: I’m just imagining someone screaming “Bonjour” to a dick Daniel: SACRE BLEAU MADEMOISELLE HON HON HON TITTY CROISSANTS  Logan (wheezing): TITTY CROISANTS  Max: None of you should ever be having sex 

Y/n: Hey do you know anyone who can teach me how to play the trumpet?  Alex: Why? Y/n: I wanna wander around the paddock and annoy Esteban  Logan: Technically, you don’t actually need to know how to play it for that  Y/n: You have opened my eyes Logan 

Max (not looking up from his book): what did he do now?  Y/n: HE SMILED  Max: At you?  Y/n: No, at Oscar and Ollie but HE LOOKS LIKE AN ANGEL  Max: go away  Y/n: shut up, I watched you pine over Charles for months – let me have this  Max: carry on 

Arthur: I came up with a brilliant idea for a prank  Y/n: Ooh, what is it?  Arthur: We should kiss.  Y/n: …I don’t get it  Arthur: Think about it! Imagine Max and Charles come into the garage, only to find us making out, hands all over each other. You can sit in my lap and we’ll really just go to town. Max will be like “WHAAAAAAA” and Charles might even faint!  Y/n: Oh, that’s hilarious! We totally should 

Esteban: The math problem isn’t so hard, it’s just a simple repetition of-  Y/n (frustrated): You’re a simple repetition  Esteban:  Y/n:  Charles: Did Y/n really just hurt Esteban’s feelings  Max: I’m so freakin proud 

Y/n (googling): snake bite leg what to do  Google: elevate and apply pressure  Y/n (lifting the snake really high): apologize or else 

Y/n: with all due respect  Y/n: Y/n: which is none 

Toto: If you took a shot for every time you made a bad decision, how drunk would you be? Kimi: Maybe a little tipsy?  George: Drunk.  Y/n: Wasted.  Lewis: Dead. 

Esteban: Could you at least try to be nice?  Y/n: You’re still breathing. That’s me being nice. 

Oscar: Hey do you have a bag I can borrow?  Zhou: The only bags I have are the ones under my eyes, and they’re specifically designed to carry the burden of my existence  Oscar: Literally all you had to do was say no 

Max (at Y/n’s funeral): Can I have a moment alone with her?  Arthur: Of course *leaves*  Max (leaning over the coffin): Now listen, I know you’re not dead  Y/n: no duh 

Y/n: Ow!  Oscar: You dislocated your shoulder. Want me to pop it back in?  Y/n (grimacing): Yeah…okay Oscar: All right, on 3….0, 1 *pops shoulder back in*  Y/n: MOTHERFU- WHO THE HELL STARTS AT 0 

Yuki: Hey Y/n, did you eat all the powdered donuts?  Y/n: …No?  Yuki: Then what’s that white powder on your pants Y/n (panicking): cocaine

Y/n: Max, I think you should play the role of my father  Max: I don’t want to be your father Y/n: That’s perfect. You already know your lines 

Lando: Can I be frank with you guys?  Y/n: I don’t know how changing your name is going to help us here, but sure?  Charles: Wait, can I still be Charles?  Oscar: Shh, let Frank speak. 

Lewis: I have a bad feeling about this.  Y/n: What do you mean?  Lewis: Don’t you ever have that little voice in your head that tells you if something is going to get you in trouble?  Y/n: no  Lewis: That explains so much 

Y/n: What do you call a fish with no eye (i)?  Oscar (not looking up from his book): myxine circifrons Y/n:  Y/n: fsh  

George: Do you have any skeletons in your closet?  Y/n: Figuratively or literally?  George: Y/n, honestly, the fact that I have to specify 

Mitch: I know you took the last Red Bull Y/n Y/n (internally): play dumb  Y/n: Who’s Y/n?  Y/n (internally): not that dumb! 

Y/n: Big mood  Fernando: What does that mean…big mood?  Y/n: Uh well, it kind of means like, me too, I guess  Fernando: Thanks 

*1 week later before a race in the rain* 

Oscar: I’m kind of worried about this race guys  Fernando: Big mood, Piastri, big mood  Oscar: Y/n what did you do? 

Charles: What’s worse than a DNF at a home race? Y/n: realizing that dragons can’t blow out their birthday candles  Charles:  Charles: mate 

Y/n: You know what? Underneath it all, you’re actually quite nice  Max: Repeat that disgusting slander and you’ll be hearing from my lawyers 

Carlos: Now that I have explained the answer to this problem to you for ten minutes, do you understand?  Y/n: Yes.  Carlos:…Are you lying to me?  Y/n: Yes. 

Christian: Y/n, it’s your turn to give the pre-race talk  Y/n (claps hands): Fuck shit up, hit some barriers, run Charles off the road, don’t die  Max (proudly): succinct and informative 

Max: The FIA really seems to hate us  Charles: Maybe they’re homophobic  Max: We’re not a couple Charles  Charles: We’re not  Y/n: You’re not? 

Vito: Why is Y/n in the bathroom on the floor crying?  Max: She’s drunk  Vito: And? Mitch: She heard that Arthur has a girlfriend  Vito:…but she is Arthur’s girlfriend  Max: Yeah, we know that 

Max (wears lighter skinny jeans and a brighter blue Red Bull polo) Y/n: I see you’re busting out the spring colors 

Oscar: How do you two normally get out of these types of messes?  Lando: We don’t.  Y/n: We just make a bigger mess that cancels out the first one 

*Valentines Day* 

Arthur (reading Y/n’s texts): Y/n just said she’s going to give me 102 minutes of pleasure tonight Max: Oh wow

*Later watching Cars 2* 

Y/n: You look disappointed 

Y/n: Chillax!  Oscar: that’s not a word  Y/n: Sometimes the ones who deny “chillax” are the ones who need to chillax the most

Y/n: You know, water is pretty crazy. It can boil you to death, freeze you to death, drown you, or spin your car out of control, throw you into the barriers and kill you. But you still need it to survive  Max: Y/n, I love you, but its 3 AM 

Christian: Y/n, a word.  Y/n: BALLOON 

Max: I have the sharpest memory! Name one time I forgot something  Y/n: You left Charles in a Walmart like three weeks ago  Max: I did that on purpose, try again 

Vito: Y/n isn’t answering her phone  Arthur: I’ll call  Vito: Max and I have both tried, along with everyone else on the grid. What make you think she’ll answer?  *Calls her anyway* Y/n: Hello? 

Y/n: Oi, where’s your boyfriend?  Max: Who?  Y/n: Charles, where is he?  Max: He’s not my boyfriend Y/n: Have you told him that? 

Fan: Max, what motivates you?  Max: My ambition and desire to push forward no matter what  Fan: Y/n, what about you?  Y/n: An unhealthy mix of spite, pettiness, the thirst for vengeance, and pure, relentless rage. That and a Red Bull in the morning 

TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @glitterquadricorn @laura-naruto-fan1998 @treehouse-mouse @sam-is-lost @kagatinkita @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @myxticmoon @angsthology @cmleitora @fly-me-away @graciewrote @ashy-kit @slutofmultifandom @aexitizen-ln4 @sugarvibez @vellicora @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @33-81 @hoetel-manager @xcharlottemikaelsonx @jayda12 @ilove-tswizzle @justme2042 @itsjustkhaos @nikfigueiredo @stopeatread @cha-hot @sadg3 @iloveyou3000morgan @s4turnsl0ver @alessioayla @torchbearerkyle @leptitlu @awekbachira @shreks-sugar-daddy @v1naco @stan-josie @mellowarcadefun @badassturtle13 @beskardroids @callisposts @poppyalice2001 @juniper-july19 @lizzypiastri

[chrolloluvr]

💰Things you do that make Mammons heart flutter 💰

Note: Female!Reader 🩷🩷, not proofread!!

Warnings: Cussing, mammons got a HUUGE ego but i love him🥺

Calling him cheezy nicknames. Things like Mamm, Mammy poo, big daddy (his favorite), MooMoo, sugar daddy etc. Its embarrassing for him, especially when you call him these in public. Because he wants to come off as powerful, but when you say these to him, it is guaranteed to give him a noticeable pink hue to his cheeks

Giving him an imnense number of compliments. Or in particular, purposely pandering to him. Lets say you compliment how good of a partner he is, or how he treats you so well. He will be taken aback by your overly suckle comments towards him. He knows he treats you well, but by you telling him just fuels his already large ego, and proves that you truly see how much effort he puts into you.

Wearing or using his merch. If this man ever catches you wearing any of his merch, he will be like a happy, doting 9ft tall puppy. He will say how absolutely irresistible you look. 'Jesus, y/n. Cmon, do a little spin for me, yeah? M'baby looks so fuckin' cute.' He most likely will make you wear Mammon themed panties around the house.

Wearing his clothes. Lets say he gets home from a long day of planning and saving, and he sees your adorable self, covered in his giant clothes, especially big on you, covering your body. He will go absolutely feral. He thinks you are already the most stunning woman in hell, but when he sees you in his jingley clown hat? He feels his heart beeting out of his chest. And my god, what a woman you are. He will grab your waist with both of his hands, and snuggle the shit outa you. And he wont let go.

The size difference. It. Is. So. Obvious. People point it out all the time in the media and on Sinstagram. He's probably at least 10ft tall, so your basically shorter than him. He absolutely lives for it. He will constantly tease you for it. And he loves that it makes him feel more dominant. He loves that you have to literally break your neck to look up at his face, or that he has to reach down to give you a smooch. He will put things on higher shelves, just to see you struggle and ask him for help

Speaking of so, he adores when you ask him to help you with things. Such as asking him for help opening a Nutella jar, all the way to asking for help unclipping your bra. It shows you need him. And that churns out a feral side to him. 'Babe whats with all the ruckus- ohhh your trying to reach the top shelf? You're so cute, always needin' my help' Sometimes, he purposely wont help you, just to see your precious reactions he is always so greedy and eager to see.

Carrying you. His favortite ways to carry you is over his shoulders, under his arm, and facing him, with his hands under your plush thighs. He loves holding you close to him, because I, ( along with other authors ) believe he is naturally cold. So holding you close to him lets him tear his walls down for a bit. You feel like a small flee while being carried by him. If hes carrying you over his shoulder, he will slap your ass, and listen for the sweet sound of your squeaks every time he does it.

Resting your head between the nook of his neck. He loves when you do this, and you know he does. Sometimes, you will whisper in his ear how much you love him, and how he is the best thing to come in your life, and watch as you swear you can see his eyes soften and look at you lovingly. You are probably the only person to ever see that from him. He also has a thing for sniffing you (which I get into in my future hcs), so he likes to smell your hair, as he grabs the back of your head. He would never usually be that vulnerable around you, so you must know his weaknesses extremely well.

Hearing you brag about him. He knows you show him off to your friends, as well as the rest of Hell. But let's say he walks into your shared master bedroom, and your on the phone. 'Sarah, I'm being serious. Mamm treats me well, stop worrying about me. Im fine, yes. Yeah he a bit of a control freak, but who isnt? I love him for him. Im not joking, no-' He is in utter shock. you are talking about him, and your defending him? Yeah, be prepared for a looooong night. He will never forget about you saying that. And he will never bring it up, since he doesn't want to come off as a wuss. You genuinely love him. The fact that you said that and you didn't know he was in your vicinity is wild to him.

If you look up at him with your big doe eyes. God, you better stop it if you don't want to be manhandled and praised. You just look so innocent and cute, and he just wants to come up and squish your puffy little cheeks like the gif below ⬇️ .His heart feels like it's running laps, but he wont let you see that. He keeps his cool demeanor, as he tells you 'Babe, you think that shits gonna work ok me? Really fuckin' smart arench'ya?

[fortheb0ys]

FUCK ME LIKE THE MEN BETWEEN THOSE PAGES

Bottom John Price x Top Male Reader

Just Price brain rot🤤 I've always wanted to a model for MLM porn sites ngl so I'm living through this fic🙏 As usual not proofread :)

FEM ALIGNED + MINORS DNI

Prices would be one of those faceless models for those erotic gay romance novels. All his work would be faceless. Just something he did to make money on the side.

It was a secret that was long forgotten. Memories replaced by his military service. His body more scarred than his younger self's. His own books but they were just collecting dust in a box.

When you got together, you had found one of the books Price had forgotten that was on a shelf. Your eyes grew wide as you noiced it was Price's shirtless body on the front cover. A small mole on his left hip was telltale that it was him.

Flipping the book over and reading the synopsis reveals the dirty content of it. All the colour washes from Price's face as he sees what you have in your hand.

Price was about to open his mouth to quickly deny it but saw your giddy excitement. Though Price felt a bit shameful, he told you that there was more. A lot more.

With much hesitation from him and a whole lot more convincing from you, Price lent you the books. His amazing body on every single one of them. A new scar here and there as the

He had been surprised that you never poked fun at him and that you were genuinely interested in his past works.

You'd admit that the sex scenes depicted were the main thing that got you interested. You'd imagine Price vividly as the characters he model on the front covers. It didn't take long for you to read through the lot of them.

When Price would be on deployment, he'd get a text from you.

Cum on the front cover or on the pages. Or others with your erect cock slotted like a bookmark between the pages with the dirtiest scenes, precum dripping onto the sheets.

You'd send worded texts underneath the photo like "Try these with me?" or "What if were we the ones to do this?"

Price hated himself for showing you the books right before the mission, making the wait painfully long.

Sexualy frustrated and slightly pissed he had to wait for his deployment to end, Price would have a lonely wank in his barracks. His fingers didn't feel right. His fantasies never felt like details in the books. Nothing felt like you.

Once he got back, Price had to fight back a boner as the anticipation took over him. He went through countless cigars trying to get his mind on something else. The 141 Boys knew something was up. Soap had to control the intrusive thoughts to ask if you were waiting naked when Price returned home.

Which he wasn't wrong. The moment Price came through that door he was already painfully hard. Before he could even open his mouth to greet you, you were on him like a fly to honey, attacking his neck with bruising kisses. Whispering the dirty dialog from one of the books made Price weak in the knees.

Thus was the beginning of your roleplay sex.

Your playtime is always different. Numerous scenarios with one thing in common: Mind blowing sex.

Price would play a royal guard, and you, the prince. A prince in a loveless engagement to a princess. A guard pleading loyalty as he rides the prince on the royal throne.

A grade slipping college student fucking his teacher in an empty classroom for extra credit. Blowjows underneath desks replaces the outdated method of study and paying attention to lectures.

A hunter who falls in love with a werewolf he's supposed to kill. The wolf is just a dumb puppy who needs to be told what to do. With a collar around his neck, ready to be tugged at and the willingness to please his master, puppy soon becomes skilled at lapping at master's hole.

A rowdy rockstar and his stressed out manager. The musician needing to burn off the adrenaline after the show and the poor management needing the stress fucked out of him. The real show was played backstage. The manager put on quite the proformance, his deep moans sounded much better than your singing.

A sex therapist that prefers to take on a more hands-on approach. That skilled tongue was used more than just giving advice.

Or lastly, a priest beguiled by a gorgeous sinner. Guilt was all he felt but it felt like true heaven. God would forgive any sin if he showed true repentance, right? Wouldn't Jesus have died for nothing if we didn't sin?

Sure, some where terrible written and some were written by women with a fetish for gay men. Seeing you act out the scenes without missing a beat or breaking out into laughter while you quoted the dirtiest and most ridiculous things.

You'd remember every dirty word uttered. Every scenario memorized. Price was starting to understand what those white women on TikTok saw in those fucking books. It was just too bad they couldn't live it out like he could.

[luveline]

heyy! can i req one with hotch where reader cuts herself on broken glass and hotch frets over her bc i just had that happen to me and BOY am i not feeling good 😀👍 ily tyy!!

love u! ty for requesting ♡

cw injury 

The mistake is always, always, trying to catch what you've dropped. You flinch down as the fragments of a glass cooking dish jump up and spread out across the kitchen floor —a gasp of pain, a hurting heat. 

"Ah," you hiss, turning your hand as blood drips down your wrist. "Shit." 

You rush away from the mess to the sink and turn the cold water on high. Your hand burns as you push it under the spray, and the water gains a weak orange tinge as it drains. 

"Did something break?" Hotch calls. 

You tip your head back, watching him approach from the hall. "I cut my hand." 

His expression changes from chagrined to concerned. "Oh, wow," he says, skirting around the circle of glass, "did you throw it?" 

"It slipped putting it back on the top shelf." 

Hotch brushes some glass aside with his shoe and stands behind you, taking your hand in his to pull from under the water. "How do I know you didn't break it so I'll stop asking you to do the dishes?" 

"Very funny. Oh…" 

"Two cuts," he worries, stretching your hand open carefully to point them out. A thin one stretches up through the top of your hand and up to your index finger. The second is worse to look at just below it. "Hey, it's fine." 

You turn your face away from the sight and incidentally into his. "Ew, I don't want to see." You peek at it. 

Hotch laughs and encourages your hand back under the faucet's running water. "Don't look at it, honey. I'll take care of it." 

He has to walk a long circle around the shards to the cabinet where you keep odd things. He seems both alert and calm as he grabs the first aid kit and returns, clicking it open on the counter and setting out a couple of things. "I'll put a butterfly stitch on the deeper one," he suggests, sliding into the box with his fingertip. "And a bandage, I think. It's not the most convenient place to have cut yourself, honey." 

"That's what I was aiming for," you mumble, wincing at the feeling of your hand as it numbs with the cold water, "convenience." 

He hums, a warm sound, and presses his thumb to the crook of your elbow briefly. "Let's dry you off." 

He dries your hand with care. The deeper cut continues bleeding, and so he holds a piece of gauze to it firmly and apologises with a much softer tone for the pain it causes. He checks intermittently to see if it's stopped, unafraid to press himself right up to your side, his breath fanning against your neck the only sound beside the drip of the tap and your own shallower breaths. 

He applies the butterfly stitch, trims the little wing so it doesn't irritate the second cut, and leans down to kiss your wrist. 

"What's that for?" you ask. 

"Healing properties." 

You laugh. "Really, Hotch?" 

He ignores your question, covering the weepy cut with a square of gauze and wrapping your hand in a spool of bandaging and tucking the end into your wrist. 

"It's overkill," he admits, taking you by the shoulders to kiss your cheek. He lingers there for a comforting second before pulling away. "How do you feel?"

"Fine. It's stinging like crazy." 

"I'll clean this glass and make it up to you." 

"It's not your fault." 

"That's not what I said." 

Hotch makes you a coffee somewhere between vacuuming and sweeping. You sip at it, watching in affection as he wipes a wad of damp paper towels. You don't need to do that, you'd said, frowning as your love sunk down onto his knees. You like to walk around without your shoes on, he'd said, of course I need to. 

It wasn't his responsibility. Your hand hurts but doesn't hinder. You could've cleaned it all yourself, there was no need for all the fuss, and still he did it without a second thought. He throws the paper towels away and washed his hands, damp fingers pressed to your neck as he leans down to kiss you. "Be careful of the wet floor, honey," he says, a hand trailing down your arm to the beginning of the bandage. "How's it feeling now? Still hurting?" 

You kiss your silly, overprotective sweetheart before you can think better of it. "It's okay. Thank you," you say in the slim gap of your lips. 

"It's nothing," he says, squeezing your wrist gently. "You're very welcome." 

[i-cant-sing]

Hmmm I could get tired over any fandom but.... batfam???? Yall would never see me tired of talking about them.

Like think just how absolutely batshit crazy they'd go if reader fractures her limb or something. Maybe reader like slips off the stairs or falls from a swing or something, and the batfam- they have to watch it all happen in slow motion, and nothing- there's absolutely nothing they can do to help you. It's scarring for Dick to watch the color drain from your face as you drip to the ground. It's scarring for Jason to hear the nasty crack as your bone bends in an ugly handle. It's scarring for Tim to hear you scream in pain. It's scarring for Damian to see the blood pour out of your body. And it's oh so heart wrenching for Bruce to hear you cry into his chest as he carries you to Alfred to get your cast done.... how hopeless he felt, unable to soothe your pain.

But things only seem to go even more downhill from there. As you recover, the family has silently decided to double down on their paranoia and be even more coddling and protective of you. You wanna walk down the stairs? Nope, here comes big bro Jason to hold your hand- or better yet, carry you around in his arms. Why risk you even tripping over air?

Wanna get something from the top shelf? Stand back, dont need the shelf or something heavy falling over your head and cracking your skull open. Let Dick pull the cookie jar down for you- but why are you even eating cookies this late???? You need to get some healthy nutrients in you, lest you should have weak frail bones. Heres your broccoli.

Wanna play video games or go on socials? Well, no more! Dont need you getting influenced by the violent storylines and bad news from around the world- Tim wouldnt your mental health to be affected. If you really want, you can use his laptop... under his supervision.

What the fuck do you think youre doing staying up past your bedtime? What do you mean youre too old to have a bedtime???? Get your ass back in bed before Damian drags you back like a gremlin and REMINDS you of the bedtime he has set for YOU, because he doesnt need you becoming an insomniac and turning insane. He will not be the one to bust you out of Arkham asylum (he absolutely would, but hed be complaining all the way) just because you decided you didnt need your 10 hours of sleep!

Wanna go to your therapist? Well, you cant cause he suddenly moved far away and every other therapist in gotham is a maniac in disguise. Bruce doesnt get why you cant just talk to him about your feelings??? Dont you trust him? Your dear father, the very man whod hold you in his arms and shield you from the scary lightening when you were young? The very man who you would ramble on to about everything and anything, including tattling on Damian locking you in his room and throwing a tantrum when Jason took you away when you were all kids? You can tell him anything sweetie, even if you wanna bitch about the batfam... it'll hurt a bit, but hed be okay (absolutely has big sad eyes when you tell him how everyones just too suffocating for you and you wanna leave them)

[deathbecomesthem]

Eddie Munson x Best friend!reader | ~1K

Summary: It's the perfect solution. You need a place to stay, he needs someone to help with the rent.

*There be some male masturbation below.

A/N: I don't know. I was supposed to be writing something else. I just think they're neat. Will there be more? Who fucking knows, I certainly don't.

---

It was a stupid idea born out of necessity. All of the most memorable things in life begin that way. You needed somewhere cheap and immediately available and his roommate ran off with the bartender he met less than a month ago. These are the days to remember - early 20s when life can change at the flick of a zippo in a dark alleyway. That’s what got Gareth, the girl that lit his cigarette. He never stopped seeing her in the soft glow of that low flame, and it left Eddie without someone to pay the other half of the rent.

And there you were, broken hearted and bleeding in front of him. In need. And he could push away those thoughts that linger in his quiet and empty bedroom in the privacy of the night. He could make a space for you, he could help you. So he did. It all came together over the hashbrowns and pancakes seasoned by your tears. Your best friend, Eddie, made a proposal that would save the day and be perfect for both of you.

Eddie Munson - your hero with a spare room and the promise of an escape from that motherfucking dickhead that stained your sheets with that girl from his office.

—

It’s the first full day, and Eddie is standing in his own kitchen with his cock pressed painfully hard against his fly at the sight of you bending down to fish the griddle out from the low cupboard next to the oven. He bites the inside of his cheek until the taste of metal hits the tip of his tongue. He adjusts himself and clears his throat while he watches your hips jiggle. The blue and purple wings of the butterfly on the soft love handle above your left him seem to flap with the movement of your arms.

“Uh, when the fuck did you get that?” Eddie’s question startles you. Your head bangs against the shelf in the cupboard your elbow deep into. “Oh shit, are you ok?”

“Yeah,” you back out of the small space and stand with your hand on the top of your head, “I think I’ll make it.” 

The first thing you notice when you look at Eddie is the red at the top of his ears. This is something you rarely get to see because of the way his shaggy curls hang around his face. This morning his hair is pulled back in a loose ponytail at the base of his neck, and those hot ears are on full display. You think, I wonder what they would feel like against my tongue,

These are the kinds of thoughts that you’ve been having for Eddie for a long time. Months. Years maybe. These are the kinds of thoughts that make this entire arraignment the worst idea. These are the kinds of thoughts that keep you company in the dark when you chase after secret pleasure in the privacy of your own touch.

“So.” Eddie’s hands are gripping the back of the vinyl chair on the opposite side of the small kitchen table from where you're standing. “So, when did you get that tattoo?”

Your eyebrows pinch together in thought, but your hand travels back to touch the marked skin before your mind catches up. It feels hot at the thought of his gaze scanning across it. You can practically feel the inked skin dancing against your fingers.

“Oh! God, I forget it’s there.” You smile and can feel heat creep across your skin at not only the question, but also in the way his eyes look black. The way he shifts from foot to foot. You can’t help but let your own eyes scan across the inked skin of his arm while you think of how to answer. “I got it a few months ago. It’s stupid. A butterfly? It’s embarrassing.”

Eddie sighs and smiles. He turns his head a little. It’s a shy kind of gesture you’ve seen him do before, but without his hair to obscure his lips you can see that secret lift of his lips. It makes your knees feel weak to see it, and you think about running your fingers across his cheek. You think about his eyes fluttering at your soft touch.

“It suits you. You shouldn’t be embarrassed.” Eddie clears his throat again and turns his head to look out of the small window above the kitchen sink. He doesn’t know that this gives you the perfect view of his long neck. “I’m gonna go take a shower.”

“Oh, ok. I’m making some homefries,” at your words, Eddie meets your gaze again and it knocks the breath out of you for a beat. Your next words come out on an exhale, and you want to shrink to the size of a grain of salt so he’ll stop looking at you, “how do you like your eggs?”

“However you make them, Sweetheart. I’ll be back soon.” You watch Eddie spin on his heels and walk awkwardly down the hallway before returning to the task at hand. Coffee, homefries, and eggs as a thank you to Eddie for letting you move in so quickly. You laugh at the shake in your hands and think about how stupid you are for letting your imagination run wild like this. This is Eddie, your Eddie. These foolish fantasies need to chill out. You can’t live like this.

—

Eddie’s head is pressed against the tile in the shower, warm water flows down his body in rivulets. He thinks about the way the purples and blues danced on your skin. The way those pretty lined stretch marks bracket around it. He thinks about the way his fingers would feel pressed into that skin, and squeezes his aching cock the way he wants to squeeze you. 

The water runs down his face. Warm water runs into and out of his open mouth while he imagines the way those purple and blue marks dance under him. The way his fingers feel holding your hips still as his cock reaches deeper and deeper inside of you.

This was the worst idea he’s ever had, but he can’t care right now.

[poetryvampire]

painfully needy Rolan going into rut

Had this on the brain lately. I don't think it would take much to make Rolan an absolute mess but imagine how worse it would be when he's going into rut. Boy would snap so fast

Rolan x afab non-tiefling reader

Have some 🔥spicy🔥 musings

*this went longer than I wanted lol. But if you like it tell me if you want more 🧡

● Rolan had been doing this dance with you for months now. Both working at Sorcerous Sundries you saw each other regularly, even tried to work together as much as possible (not that he'd ever admit that). The banter, the playful mockery leading to not so subtle flirtation was easy until now.

● The conversations didn't flow like before. A joke about becoming a doe eyed scarcely dressed maiden -like the ones on the covers of those novels you so enjoy- suddenly lead his mind to wander. Any wisecrack replaced with the image of you gazing at him so lustfully. An image that stays with him for the rest of the day (and night).

● Lia and Cal are very vocal about his uptick in irritability. He tries to ignore them but they're not wrong. Ever little thing sets him off. He's frustrated at himself. For letting the feelings get so far without truely noticing. For being too proud or too embarrassed to act on them.

●He often forgets his words as his eyes lingered on your lips, your neck, your figure. More than once you caught him staring and to his surprise no offense was taken. Just a quizzical look, perhaps a soft smile that flooded his face with warmth.

●Rolan would have almost preferred you'd have met him with anger. Now the hope of you ran rampant through him. That if he was ever to give in he may be met with the embrace he so longed for. The need for you was growing by the day. He even took care to not stand to closely to you now. He coursed himself for it. How had he become so starved for affection that even the scent of you sprung his body to life.

●The wizard had spent many nights forced to take action if he was to ever find sleep. He'd be tangled in his sheets, hair wild, trusting violently into his own fist. He tries to keep his fantasies to more abstract forms of pleasure but as hard as he tries the vague shapes melt into crystal clear images of you. It would always be you around him like a vice that would push him over the edge.

● There were times he'd lose himself so throughly he'd cry out your name as he came. Embarrassed by this lack of control, Rolan told himself it was better to happen here than in front of you.

● Going into work that morning something felt off. Rolan's whole body felt extra sensitive, aching. The horrible thought finally struck him at midday. Was he going into rut? Now!? With such little warning? He calms himself. He's not certain after all.

● Until he's been paired with you to clean out and old study turned storage room. He's hyper aware of your scent. Its filling his lungs,making his knees weak. The room isn't exactly small but it's stuffed with stacks of books making moving around a problem. You're constantly having to squeeze (delightfully, terrifyingly) close to each other.

● Luckily you're busying yourself with the task at hand. Rolan prays you won't notice how red (red-er) his face is or the sizable bulge he's currently cloaking with a stack of books. The straining against his pants is almost painful. He's eyeing the door, anything to escape the heat building in his blood.

●His eyes fall back to you and all notions of making a run for it leave his mind. Along with everything else that isn't right in front of him. You looked a vision, standing on and old box body spread across the book self as you attempt to reach something on the top shelf. Not only was it a perfect view of your form, it reminded him of a pose one might see in an old painting.

●Suddenly the box wobbled threatening to send you falling backwards. Your scream was cut short as you felt Rolan catch you, arms wrap around your middle tightly pressing you to him. His face buried in your hair he couldn't help utter a deep groan. The wave of intoxicating aroma washing away his last bit of restraint.

●With ease he flips you around, pressing you into the shelf, a maon escaping your lips. Your hands came to his chest not to push him away but in a gentle caress.

●'Rolan? Please,' was hardly out on your mouth when they were swallowed by his lips. He kisses you like a drowning man breaking the water's surface. Madly, desperately as if any second you may be taken away for him. Hungrily he deepens the kiss and your lips part for him with ease, both of you relishing in the taste.

●It's only when you part for air he realizes he's been rocking his hips into you. An apology catches in his throat as you grind back against him. He's dizzy with lust, his own heartbeat pounding in his ears.

●His lips find your neck, kissing, sucking and biting. Trying his best not to break the skin. Your moans drive him on. His hands are frantic running all over you. Soon your hands lead his to the laces on your dress. He makes quick work of it.

●Rolan takes you in his arms again and lays you down on a near by table. A little too eager he tears your under things away completely. But to his awe you only laugh and spread yourself out for him to drink you in fully. You're a goddess in his eye and he intends to worship.

●Words spill senselessly from him as he lavishes you with his mouth. 'Fuck, Fuck! You're beautiful you're perfect. I need- God's, l need you I need you.' He hasn't the brain for elegance now. He's kissing you everywhere maoning words of love into your skin.

● As he makes it to your thighs he cannot help but bury is face between them. The sweet taste of your sex has him throbbing with out so much as a touch. He wants to make sure you're nice and ready for him. You're not a tiefling after all and he couldn't bare the thought of hurting you. It doesn't take long before you're dripping wet against his tongue as he slides wildly between attacking your entrance and your clit.

●You stifle a scream as an orgasm suddenly rips through you, your thighs shaking in his grasp. Youre still panting but you pull him away, drawing him closer to you. As you pull him into a soft kiss your hands unlace his pants (finally) freeing his erection. Though to hold him lightly his gasp is sharp. He's painfully hard; his head already glistening with precum.

●As he runs he length against your folds he tries to center himself. He doesn't want to be too rough or finish terribly fast. He wants to go slow but when he catches on your entrance he can't help but thrust into you, the relief of his agony so close. You tremble but encourage him on. His name quickly becoming a soft prayer on your lips.

●He's wrapped inside you now, almost all the way. The pleasure overwhelming him he opts for quicker shallow thrusts. He's taken aback by how vocal he is as more sweet lustful nothings spill from him. Rolan's control is fading fast. He's practically shaking, slamming himself into you losing whatever rhythm he had. The sight of your face contorting with pleasure is pushing him to his end. He can feel the hot pull in his gut. And suddenly something else as.

●A chill runs over him as he feels the swelling at the base of his cock. He grasps it and pulls out not wanting to subject you to something he didn't even take the time to explain. In part he's too late. He didn't fully knot but he still comes hard, spilling thick ropes all over your stomach and thighs. Fuck, you're beautiful like this.

● He blushes deeply and panics, apologizing over and over. He didn't want it to be like this. You run your fingers through his hair and kiss him gently. You don't know that much about teifling biology but Gods you wanted to learn. Rolan tries to believe you, that this wouldn't scare you off.

● He adjusted his pants, somehow still as uncomfortable as before. Perhaps it was the sight of you dressing. How you made no move to do away with his mess before you did. He could take you again easily. But not here.

● You convince him to claim illness and leave work early. To take time to rest. He agrees wanting to lock himself away from the world. And yet he also agrees to meet you that night. Then he'd have a more level head. A chance to explain himself and perhaps to hold you in his arms for longer.

Xoxo thanks for reading friends ❤️

[alistairsmonstercafe]

NSFW How to Gain the trust of a Dragon in the Dragons Den, Guide 02

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4 | PART ?

NOTICE; TOP/SWITCH Male Hybrid Reader

CHARACTER; BOTTOM/SUB Price, BOTTOM/SWITCH Soap,

CW; Threesome, slight choking? Hella horny dragon, body worship, praise, face sitting, fingering, ass eating, cock suckin' shit like that.

ADDITIONAL; I don't mind Fem/Fem aligned readers reading but don't feel insulted/complain that I strictly don't do Fem reader, not my cuppa tea mate.

INSPIRATION; @/Bluegiragi Monster AU on Twt and Tumblr & @/thegnomelord for the scale idea on tumblr.

NOTE; Accidentally posted the draft... | This will be a mini series staring our favorite little hybrids. Part ? Will be a poll of a repeat character or a non 141 character.

As Price paced outside the office, the temptation to peek behind that imposing door grew stronger. His hybrid instincts nudged him toward curiosity, but his rationality warned against it. He wasn't your mate. Not Soap's either. He'd be a prick if he suddenly barged in purely because he was a horny dragon, he hasn't felt the urge for a proper mate for years, but it was uncommon for species to crossbreed, or to even have packs, or other mates then one that weren't of the same species.

Yet, there was something magnetic about the possibility—a pull he couldn't quite resist. The thought flickered in his mind like a distant flame, leaving him torn between his innate curiosity and the risk.

And despite the gentle reach of his claw near the door, he didn't. He was old. Older then most of you, who would dare date a dragon of his age? Even people of his kind preferred dragons who could keep up with them, not groan at a sudden back pain or a weak knee. Nor the crowfeet on his eyes, signs of age in his face. His body was not as strong as in his younger days, and well, his stomach. It had a lot more pudge to it, something he'd never openly admit.

The following day, despite his position as captain, Price found himself stealing more glances at you and Soap, your little cuddles during lunch, or the way your tails intertwined. The soft cooing and purrs left to each other left him with want, tugging at the fringes of his thoughts. He couldn't shake off the inexplicable allure it held, even though he knew his authority wouldn't grant him it.

As he maneuvered through his duties, his mind kept circling back to you. He questioned his own reluctance to simply talk to you, push the conversation open. It wasn't about rules or permissions; it was a deeper, primal restraint holding him back, a fear of the unknown that clashed with his innate curiosity.

Yet, when he came back to his desk later that evening, he saw a small pile of, to what to most, would seem as mindless trinkets, was actually an abundance of jewels, some of his favorite coffee, tea, and a make shift.. Scale? No. That wouldn't make sense. He could recognize it as yours and Soap's fur. In the shape of a scale.

Were you lads trying to court him? A deep rumble erupted from his chest as he gently held up the item to his nose, his wings relaxing at the mixed scent. The scent of a mate, his instincts whispered. And he couldn't help but agree.

Tucking away the items he placed them in a small box on his shelf full of items he hoarded before. He couldn't have a huge hoard, so he did what he could. And turned the scale shaped fur, into a necklace he could wear on his chest. Closest to his heart. For he knew they had won it already.

It was the next day where you and Soap were idly chatting, he sat down infront of you, and slid over a scale cut perfectly down the middle for you two. You both easily looked up in shock, mouths open. "Wha- Cap'n- Does this mean-" Soap sputtered, and you were still quiet with your jaw still wide open.

"It does. Means it quite bloody clearly, Soap." He replies almost shyly, his firm voice is softened with love and affection as he smiles. Those beautiful crow lines appear once more and the sight of both of your tails swaying happily is a tell-tale sign hes done the right choice.

He's quick to get back up, walking to the door before stopping and turning back to say; "My room, at nine exactly. Alright?"

You're both quick to say yes and despite his cool demeanor as he leaves, Price feels hard as a rock as the first blooms of heat start back in his stomach. A feeling he hasn't felt in ages, but that can wait for later tonight. He wouldn't be a captain without all that self-discipline, after all.

So its when Price comes to the dark of his room, a little worn out, he surprised to suddenly see a nest, and you and Soap sitting on his bed with only the moon light to illuminate your features. And coo he does because he melts at the sight that you both waited for him.

You're the first to pull him in with a grin, your tail wrapping around his waist as you and Soap are quick to strip him down until hes left in a shirt and boxers. But hes quick to push you down onto your back in the nest as he sits on your lap, Soap he behind Price, kissing down his back as his tail wags.

But as you look up at Price, he looks like a beauty, and your hand gently traces down from his chin, to his toned yet supple and beautifuy scared chest, to his stomach, caressing the pudge as you whisper praise. And it. Makes Prices face burn with pride at the fact someone accepts him and his appearance, something he didn't think he'd be self conscious on.

Soap continues quick and sloppy kisses up his back, leaving soft nips and bites on him, leaving it mostly betweem you and Price. He loves both of you but you had both discussed the idea before. You wanted to pamper Price, and make him feel higher then cloud 9.

And you did, each kiss, and bite, began to switch as Price was switched around by Soap. And you easily pulled Price's hips towards you and kissed his ass, making Price groan in response. The sound cut short as Soap began to kiss him, stroking your cock in the meantime to keep you satisfied as well. It was his turn to assist.

"Fuck- Price- So fuckin' pretty for us." Soap groans out to price, and you can only agree, pressing kisses up his neck as his tail makes soft noises against the nest as it wags aggressively against it.

Price only moans a little, his hips still bucking into your mouth as your tongue is quick, and perfectly long enough to reach deep into him inside, his dragoh tail is quick to curl around your neck and slightly squeeze lovingly. The way you and Soap praise Price and his body makes him melt. Hes an old lad, scales of iron from how the world has hardened him and yet you make him so soft.

So loved.

So accepted.

He thought he was content with 141 but knowing that two of the members in it are his mates? He can only purr.

Its when Soap slides down and suck off Price whilst hes still sitting on your face does he lose it. Not knowing where to buck his hips either back and forth, and instead sways them. His claws tugging at Soaps hair and your hands wrapped tightly on his hips, bits of blood is evident from your claws but neither notice.

Its when you suddenly slide in a finger that Price goes almost limp, his tail squeezes a little tighter and his moans get louder. Damn the thin walls because tonight he knows hes going to be fucked well in his nest.

And in his eyes thats a night well spent.

Aftermath; By morning Gaz is the first of the 141 to complain. Small eyebags under his eyes as he stares at you, Soap, and Price.

"Fucked real good huh? Give me some earplugs next time alright?" He remarks, drinking some coffee, Ghost watches but said nothing. But theres something about the way his smoke slides up his arm at the words 'fucked', before sliding back down, gives you slight curiosity.

[lovifie]

Hewwo (TwT)

Can you do one with the wheelchaired user and Soap or Price? ~<3

Luv u >_<

Hi love! I hope that you like it!

I am not a wheelchair user so I hope I didn't say anything offensive, if I did please let me know ❤️

Soap

I just know this man would save your contact as "Hot Wheels 🩷"

You first met at the supermarket, he was looking for something on the top shelf and didn't notice you, accidentally pushing you slightly.

You quickly stopped the wheelchair, turning to look at him.

"Shit, sorry, bonnie. I wasn't looking." He said, stepping back so he wasn't hovering over you. "Ye alright?"

He is immediately smitten with you, the annoyed look on your face automatically making the little brat weak

You answer a bit harshly, not that he cared, and you point to what you were trying to grab for the unnecessarily high shelf. "Could you please grab one of those for me?"

He jumps at the opportunity, quickly grabbing it and handing it to you. "I'll grab the moon and the stars for you, bonnie."

You look back at him, silently pondering how much you want the cereal. "This will do, thanks."

He laughs loudly, walking along and apologising again. "Could I maybe... Take you out for a coffee? A meal?"

He is looking at you, head cocking to the side like a puppy, waiting for an answer.

"Are you a creep?" "Oh, definitely."

You still go out, and you end up having the time of your life. And as time goes on he only gets worse.

The "Don't drink and drive" his favourite joke whenever he sees you take a sip of alcohol.

And if you are able to stand? He is shouting "MIRACLE!" or "LIES! TREACHERY!' and it doesn't matter if it is the first time he has seen you standing or the 100th time.

If you ever leave the wheelchair unattended he is definitely stealing it and going Tokyo drifting around the house; only stopping when you shout his name like scolding a dog. "Sorry, bonnie"

Price

With him it would be the opposite, you bump onto him.

It was on the bus, he was a bit grumpy about having to take it since his car broke down, but he got to meet you so he took it as a godly message.

He was standing close to the bus door, you entered and before you could lock the wheels from moving the bus started sending you rolling back against him.

He grab the handles, only to avoid the hit and looked down at you with a smile when you looked at him panicked. "Well, hello to you too."

You started to apologise profusely, turning around a bit to check you haven't hurt him. You softly grazed his hands on your process of checking on him and it sent a funny feeling up his column.

"It's alright." He reassured you, resting his hand on top of yours. "I don't mind a pretty thing like you crushing on me, love."

It made you stutter, tripping over your words as you started to blush profusely. Funny enough it was him the one with a crush on you.

And he just knows he cannot let you slip away from him like that, and when you mention it is your stop he shoots. "How about you let me buy you coffee? For the trouble."

And who are you to turn him down?

That's how he got your name, your number and himself under your skin.

I just know acts of service is this man love language, constantly trying to just be of use. Wheelchair or not.

The postman left a parcel downstairs and you can't get it into the elevator? This man is taking it up on his hands, whether it is a letter or a fucking fridge.

You are almost ready to go but your phone is charging in your room? This man is sprinting down the hall as if running away from an explosion.

You are on a fancy dinner and some people are slow dancing? You looked at them for four whole minutes and you expect him to not do anything?

He's picking you up, your arms around his shoulder and just dancing with you; no matter how much you complain about being heavy or anything, he's dancing with you.

And regarding the two of them; I just know that if some stupid person ever said anything along the lines of: "Aren't you tired of taking care of them?" They would just stare at them like they are idiots, going like: "They take better care of themselves than I do of my own, if anything they are the ones tired of taking care of me."