#like I somehow managed to fail in that too

[teaxeee]

hi its dylan 😁😁😁 and i think matthew size training but like he's so gentle and sweet with it and praises u and he'd call u good girl and "that's it baby" and i think he'd cum inside by accident cuz it's just squeezing him so tight and it feels so so good :(( but he doesn't feel too bad cuz he wanted to anyway cuz he loves u ugh i think i just wanna make love with this man

Dylan you want me DEAD cause hello?! I swear I'm gonna go to: *insert drugged emoji that's smiling creepily* (I'll add the pic from my laptop if I don't forget) ANYWAYSSSS:

You and Matthew wanting to have sex, but the only issue is that he won't fit! It doesn't help that it's gonna be your first time with him since you started dating. So, Matthew being the loving boyfriend that he is, decides to help you get used to his size, and what better way to do it than size training!

The first couple of days goes smoothly, with him prepping you and then trying to fit as much of his cock as he can inside you, each day making more progress than the previous. He does somehow manage to push half his cock inside you the next time you try to fuck and he praises you so much, saying: "Such a good girl...you're already taking me half way in, baby." and he'd sound so proud of it.

But then he's met with a problem: you keep clenching around him every single time, trying to suck in more of his cock, clearly eager to feel him inside you. With the way he's slowly starting to thrust into you it has both him and you weak. You keep clenching around him and he lets out a few grunts, struggling not to cum too fast just from being inside, but it fails miserably as you eagerly push your hips against his, barely managing to have him fully inside as he cums.

Does he feel guilty about it? No! Would he do it again? Yes.

[angelsleepinggurl]

“𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙠 𝙖 𝙡𝙤𝙩 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙢𝙮 𝙜𝙞𝙧𝙡𝙛𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙣𝙙.”

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. Your drunk boyfriend fails to realise that you’re the angel taking care of him.

wc. around 892

tags. aki hayakawa x reader. drunkaki x reader. aki hayakawa reader fluff. all characters are 18 years old.

˚₊‧꒰ა . ——— ˗ˏˋ ✮ ˎˊ˗ ——— ˖ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Stumbling through the door, the two of you barely manage through the doorway, with Aki leaning heavily on you, his weight threatening to pull you both to the floor. For a moment, it feels like you’re going to crash—your foot catches on the edge of the doormat—but you shift just in time, managing to stay upright with Aki slung against you like a ragdoll. His arm slips off your shoulder as he mumbles something incoherent, too far gone to make much sense of the world around him.

"Easy there," you mutter, more to yourself than to him. His head lolls to the side, his loose jet black hair lazily falling down his face’s sides. A content hum vibrates in his throat. He’s out of it, lost in whatever haze alcohol has wrapped him in. You crouch down, easing him against the wall, his back sliding down just slightly as you focus on pulling off his shoes. He watches you with half-lidded eyes, a slight grin on his face as if this whole thing is amusing him.

“You think this is funny yeah? Sicko.” you jokingly mutter under your breath, successfully getting his other shoes off. Makima, your boss, wanted to congratulate the team for their hard efforts. This led to suggestions for the group to out for drinks tonight, something on which you had cooled down, especially since last time’s events. But this time, the new recruit, Denji was here. Drinking and getting himself into all sorts of mischief. It all got a little too much for you when Himeno threw up in his mouth. It got a little too much for Aki when he started singing randomly and becoming really pouty and cuddly, signifying his end. So here you are, struggling to lift your boyfriend to a couch in the living room.

Aki drapes a heavy arm around you before slinking across the couch. He sprawls out like he is made of liquid. Moulding and melting to the structure of the furniture. You let out a soft sigh, standing for a moment to look at him. His hair’s a mess, his cheeks flushed pink, and he’s got this dazed look in his eyes that somehow manages to be endearing. Shaking your head, you head to the kitchen and fill a glass with water. When you return, he hasn’t moved, his arm now dangling off the side of the couch. You set the water on the table, then grab the remote and flip on the TV, settling down beside him.

The TV’s a blur of moving colors, but neither of you are really paying attention to it. Aki shifts beside you, turning his head lazily in your direction. His gaze lingers on you, as if he’s trying to place something, his brow furrowing in this adorably confused way. Your fingers sem to rub against his scalp repetitively, still holding the glass of water.

“You look a lot like my girlfriend,” he mumbles suddenly, his voice thick with sleep and alcohol.

You glance at him, trying to stifle a grin, and reply nonchalantly, “Really?”

“Yeah,” he murmurs, his eyes narrowing a bit as if studying you more closely. “It’s kinda freaky.”

You stifle a laugh, biting the inside of your cheek. "Do you like your girlfriend?" you ask, your voice casual, as if you’re making small talk, though there’s a slight teasing edge to it.

“I love her,” he says immediately, the words slipping from his lips with a kind of softness that makes your heart flutter. He says it like it's a fact, like it's obvious, something everyone should know. His eyes half-close again, the smallest smile tugging at his lips. “She’s so nice to me. And she’s got this… really pretty hair.” He lifts his hand clumsily, gesturing vaguely at your head. “And she has this amazing laugh. I wish she’d laugh forever.”

You can’t help it—you laugh, just a little, your breath catching in your throat at the sincerity in his voice. Aki’s eyes flicker open at the sound, and for a second, it’s like he’s awake again, aware, noticing you fully. But the moment passes as quickly as it came, and his head drops back down onto the couch cushions.

“I wish my girlfriend was here right now,” he mumbles, his voice wistful.

Something softens inside you at his words, a warmth spreading through your chest. His eyes flutter open again, bleary but warm, looking up at you as if he’s not sure what’s real.

"Silly," you whisper, smiling down at him, “I am your girlfriend.”

For a moment, there’s silence. Aki blinks up at you, his brow furrowing as if he’s processing the words. Then, slowly, a grin spreads across his face, lazy and soft, like the realization is just starting to sink in. He lets out a contented sigh, closing his eyes again as his head nestles deeper into your lap.

“I knew that,” he mutters, though there’s a playfulness in his voice that suggests otherwise.

You laugh softly, continuing to run your fingers through his hair. The room falls quiet, the sound of the TV a distant hum in the background. Aki’s breathing evens out, his body relaxing completely against you, his hand resting lightly on your leg as if even in his half-asleep state, he wants to be close to you.

“Love you too, idiot.”

[exhuastedpigeon]

Lemme help with those Hockey AUs...

👨🏽👨🏽👨🏽👨🏽👨🏽👨🏽👨🏽👨🏽👨🏽👨🏽👨🏽👨🏽👨🏽

🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒🏒

Kenna I knew I could count on you.

39 for 👨🏽(ps this fic was inspired by your manip of hockey player Eddie with a moustache)

Where Buck’s mustache is still pretty light, Eddie’s is dark and lush and honestly, Buck wants to put his mouth on it. 

Which is not the way he’s supposed to think about his teammate. 

Even if that teammate is also Buck’s secret husband. Emphasis on the secret part. While they were out to the team and their family and friends, they weren’t out publicly at the advice of their agent and the Kings front office. 

But Buck might accidentally out them this November if he didn’t get himself under control. It was just, Eddie looked kind of insanely hot with a mustache. This wasn't the first November he’d known Eddie, in fact this wasn’t even the first November where he’d been in a relationship with Eddie. It was just, this November something seemed different. 

“Why are you staring at me,” Eddie asked with a laugh on November 5th. His mustache was already looking thick and sexy, unlike Buck’s which was still a little patchy and definitely too blond to look good right now. 

“I like the mustache,” Buck said with a shrug, trying (and failing) to sound casual about it. 

“Oh, you do?” Eddie stopped buttoning his shirt so he could turn around and look at Buck directly instead of in the mirror. 

“Y-yeah,” Buck couldn’t take his eyes off of it and here in the safety of their bedroom he was allowed to look, so why should he stop. 

“If you managed to keep out of the box tonight, I’ll let you do whatever you want to my mustache.”

“Whatever I want?”

“Well, within reason,” Eddie laughed. “We have to get on a plane and fly to Boston tomorrow morning.”

“Okay, I can stay out of the box,” Buck said confidently, even though there was a very good chance he was lying. It wasn’t his fault they were playing the Ducks. Everyone knew the Ducks sucked, that was just a fact of life. The sky is blue. Eddie Diaz is the love of Evan Buckley’s life. The Ducks stopped being cool in 2006 when they changed their name from the Mighty Ducks to just the Ducks. 

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” Eddie laughed and pressed a kiss to Buck’s mouth. Buck had expected the mustache to tickle, but he found he actually liked the feeling of it against his skin. Oh god, did he have a mustache kink that had somehow only now unlocked in him?

(He didn’t manage to stay out of the box, but Eddie let it slide because Buck had only gotten thrown in the box after he’d dropped gloves with Jonah Greenway after he ran Chimney in the crease.) 

–

“Someone on Twitter called Eddie’s mustache the gayest thing they’ve ever seen in the NHL and, this is a direct quote, that’s impressive because hockey is the most homoerotic sport to ever exist,” Chimney said on November 13th. They were on the world’s shortest flight from Long Island to Philly and Chimney was entertaining them by reading funny tweets about the team. 

“Everything I do is gay,” Eddie said without opening his eyes. He’d played over thirty-five minutes in their game the night before after Millsy had blocked a shot with his face, so Eddie was so exhausted that Buck could feel it radiating off of him. 

It wasn’t like Buck hadn’t played an extra few minutes last night too, but Eddie was a left handed defenceman and so was Millsy, so Eddie had done a lot of double shifting. It had paid off, they’d won the game by one goal. 

“Is your mustache this season extra glorious and sexy this year because you’re fully embracing your gay-ness?” Chimney asked and coming from anyone else Buck knew Eddie would have been a little annoyed, but Chimney was - well he was Chimney. He was always in their corner even when he was pissed at them. 

“Probably,” Eddie smiled, eyes still closed. “Maybe I’ll dress up as Freddie Mercury and post a picture saying we have more than just a mustache in common.”

Buck’s brain short circuited for a second at the mental image of Eddie dressed up like Freddie Mercury, but he was thankfully pulled from that thought before it got not safe for work when Chimney spoke again.

and 39 for 🏒 under the cut

They’re tied 1-1 in the third period against the Ducks when Buck lays a hit on Smith along the boards in the natural zone, knocking him off the puck long enough for Eddie and his fucking beautiful hands to gain possession. Buck grins at Smith as he pushes off of him and follows behind his defense partner, entering the zone two seconds after him. Buck back checks the Duck’s defender that’s coming up behind him to keep him away from the puck and give Eddie another second to put the puck on net. 

And here’s the thing, Buck knows their team is good - they’re the second best team in the western conference right now. It’s like Eddie was the missing piece they’d needed to really take them up to the next level, but in the middle of a game he isn’t thinking about that. All he’s thinking about is that he needs to give the guys the best chance they have to score. Eddie sends the puck back to Mateo and screens the goalie as Mateo passes the puck to Buck at the point to reset the play. 

It’s like it happens in slow motion - Buck takes a shot from the point, not because he thinks he’s going to score, but because he wants to get the puck to the net so they can try to score on the rebound. Except the rebound doesn’t come. Instead, Eddie tips Buck’s shot, redirecting it over Gibson’s shoulder on his stick side, sending the puck into the back of the net.

The ref signals that it’s a goal and before the horn can sound, Eddie is on him, practically tackling him to the ice in celebration. Buck wraps his arms around Eddie on instinct, holding him close as TK, Paul, and Mateo crash into them.

"You're a fucking beauty, Buckley," Eddie says, his mouth pressed against Buck neck in a hug.

They manage to hold onto the lead and when Chim insists on taking everyone out for a drink after because they held onto the lead and didn’t let their defensive play slip even when they were winning. Buck says yes without second thought. He’s expecting most of the younger guys to come out with them, the ones without wives and girlfriends at home. The ones without kids waiting for them. 

He’s expecting Eddie to say he needs to get home to Chris. He isn’t expecting Eddie to say, “I’m in.”

“Is Carla staying late?” Buck asks quietly as they change after cooling down and showering. 

“Shannon’s got him tonight,” Eddie says just as quietly. Buck’s pretty sure the only other person who knows about Eddie’s complicated relationship with his ex is Coach, for some reason being in on that secret, to have earned that kind of confidence from Eddie, makes Buck warm all over. 

“Well then it’s dad’s night out, huh?” Buck grins and slings an arm around Eddie’s shoulders even though they both smell fucking rank and they should really hit the showers. 

“There aren’t many nights where we win, we don’t have a game for five whole days, and I don’t have to rush home to relieve the babysitter,” Eddie grins right back. “Let’s go get fucking hammered, Buck.”

They’re in the locker room surrounded by their teammates. There’s at least two reporters in the room with them right now. Buck can see Ravi has his phone out and is probably live on Instagram. None of it matters, not with the way Eddie’s smiling at him. Not with the way Eddie pulls Buck into his orbit and keeps him there whenever he’s in the room. 

“I-I think everyone is going to get hammered,” Buck says, eyes on Eddie’s mouth because he can’t seem to stop himself. 

“Yeah, but I’ll be doing it with you,” Eddie says and then he ducks out from under Buck’s arm with a laugh. “Come on, we gotta shower. I bet you smell worse than Sid’s lucky jock.”

make me write

[icantdothistodaybruh]

some silly doodles to take my mind off of things🕊

ref

[uygfiug]

how do you people study through extreme exhaustion? bc thats what always gets me during the exams & i cannot keep doing this forever

[wereh0gz]

Guess who's thinking up a new au to make themself sad with

[allmpa]

This exam season im trying to channel the Sirius Black “doesn’t study but somehow excels in all his exams” energy but tbh it’s looking more like I’m gonna have to pull a Peter Pettigrew and start studying like a maniac the week before my exams

[straydogged]

school is coming way too fast and I am not ready. oh god I am not ready

[liedownquisition]

I'm so tired.

Bonus meme under cut:

This is both for him in general (or at least the fanon version dominating fics) and extra for him as Robin specifically tbh. Let him grow up and find an identity outside of being Bruce's emotional support child. It's not like it's actually helping anymore anyways.

[running-in-the-dark]

got a new hard drive (had to, no space left 😔), so I'm using that as a reason to completely reorganise my files (mostly shows, movies etc)

I'm having such a good time 💖

[chaosgenasi]

i thought i was pulling leylines = luxon stuff out of thin air but there's actually a lot here and i'm going full red string

[ajarofpickledtears]

ok I don't love Infants or Toddlers in The Sims 4 by any means and do think they're annoying, but some posts on Reddit seem wild

like, idk, maybe it's not common to micromanage everything my Sims do, but I am constantly checking back and forth so Toddlers and Children barely even get started making messes bc Mother Is Watching

also, never really had issues with Toddlers and the tablet, at most they go sit somewhere and talk to other Sims while using it

[whimsicmimic]

once again thinking about my post-trimax legato somehow miraculously survives despite everything au and vashgato agenda aka The Worlds Most Miserable Roadtrip

[glimpsesofeuterpe]

even if it is the wrong timeline I'm glad we got to meet at least

feliix i am glad too!

[fingertipsmp3]

Last night I had a dream that me and my best friend were living together and it was super not going well lol

[writersdrug]

OOOH bartender Simon when one of the regulars starts making comments about reader at the bar

Yes

Slight nsfw, someone makes derogatory marks about reader

Simon didn't understand why the man chose to be a regular at his bar. He never spoke much to the lad, Mitch, other than the occasional grunt and "'nother round?" Still, the bloke had been coming to his pub every Friday, Saturday, and Sunday night like it was his religion - it very well might've been - spilling his guts over neat whiskey about his failing marriage, his estranged children, and his shitty job. Simon was surprised he managed to keep one, with how much he was drinking on a Sunday night.

"Don't ever get a wife, Simon." Mitch says, fidgeting his empty whiskey glass in his fingers. He'd already come in with a sour expression and droopy eyes - Simon wondered what the topic would be for tonight, but as usual, it steered towards his divorce waiting to happen.

"Already got one." He says, jerking his head to the liquor shelf. "Woodford."

Mitch laughs, letting Ghost take his empty glass and dunk it in the wash basin. "You got anyone waitin' for you after work?"

Ghost clicks his tongue, wiping the condensation off the bar top. "Rather not talk about my personal life 'ere."

"Bah - you need something young n' fresh." Mitch sighs, tapping his fingers against the wood. "Guy like you can't have something too committed, or else your work ethic will suffer."

Ghost grunts as his response. He reminds himself that Mitch was a patent, like everyone else, and he only has to tolerate his yapping for tonight - until next Friday.

Mitch turns his head to look at you, and Simon follows with his eyes: you're standing at a table, bantering with the couple seated there as you take their orders. Hair pulled back into that weird claw clip thingy Simon likes so much, posture relaxed as you leaned on one hip, a soft smile on your face as the couple takes their time placing their orders. He remembers how unfamiliar you were with it all in the beginning, and now it looks like you've been working here for the past ten years. Like you belong in his pub.

"How's she handling the job?" Mitch asks.

Simon shrugs. "Seems t' be managing just fine. Gets away with more shit than I should be allowin' 'er."

Mitch chuckles, looking back at you. "They always do when they look that good." He comments, making Ghost pause. "Price knew what he was doin' hiring her."

He feels his muscles tense subconsciously. "I hired 'er."

Mitch looks back at him, a wicked smile spreading across his face. "Simon, you ol' dog..." he begins, leaning his forearms onto the bartop. "Gotta keep the customers comin' somehow, eh?"

Ghost blinks. "I don't follow." He does; but he's giving Mitch a chance to redeem himself after his insinuation.

"C'mon, was it her face? What she wore to the interview? Did Johhny-boy see her and beg you to hire her?" He leans in towards Simon, who obliges and meets him halfway, just to hear what else the price will say, so he knows how much damage he can justify.

"I'm telling you - the only reason she probably took the job was, well.." he raises and eyebrow.

Simon waits. "Hmm?"

"You know - three big guys like you lot - not to mention that old brewmaster assistant, Garrick, I know he frequents here... well, any desperate thing like her would be throwing themselves at the opportunity."

He's livid. "Wha' opportunity?"

"Gettin hit from all sides, if you catch my drift."

Ghost nods slowly, biting the inside of his cheek until he tastes blood. He wants to punch a hole through Mitch's chest, but two patrons roughhoused in one week would make Price get on his case. He turns to the bar and grabs a whiskey glass.

"Aww, don't be like that..." Mitch says when he senses Ghost's anger. "I'm sorry. Listen - if you don't want to show her a good time, me and my buddy will. I'll leave my number and you'll give it to her for me?"

"Drink this, sober up, and go home Mitch." Ghost says, slapping the glass of clear liquid in front of the man. Mitch eyes him with a huff as he returns to washing the glasses in the bar sink.

"Fuckin' loser..." he mumbles, grabbing the glass and downing a large gulp - he immediately sputters, the drink spilling all over his front as he coughs and hacks violently. The entire floor looks over at the commotion, you included, standing by the POS and watching with a furrowed brow.

"Fuck- was that goddamn Everclear?!" He rasps.

"I think it's time y' head out, Mitch." Ghost says, leaning both of his hands against the bar. "Call your wife and kids. Stop comin' 'ere every week." He then leans in close, right in front of Mitch's face. "Cuz if I see you back at my bar again, I'm draggin' you out the back myself."

His eyes crinkle with a smile as he claps Mitch on the arm, making him jump from the impact. He quickly gets up off his seat and stumbles towards the front door, sparing one last bittwr glance between you and Ghost, before he angrily shoves his way out.

Ghost sighs, putting the Everclear back on the shelf; you walk over right on cue. "What was that about? He ok?"

Simon shrugs, closing Mitch's tab on his POS and assigning an auto-gratuity. "Dunno. Maybe my advice finally got t' the bastard."