#pinning this because he needs all the love he can get even if it's just vibes from tumblr

[satoruluvies]

carsick

ʚɞ summary. [req!] you get carsick easily so how do the jjk boys (yuji, megumi, yuta and toge) help you out?

ʚɞ desc. headcanon, fluff fluff and more fluff.

yuji is the most perfect boyfriend to ever exist i dont make the rules. he knows how easily nauseous you can get so he gets everything ready before the car ride. he makes sure you slept well to be on top of your health and even went out of his way to get you pills that help ease the effects. my boy researched and prepared everything just for you. that's not all though, he uses his strength to his advantage and carries you around effortlessly so that you don't have to walk yourself. you're safe in his arms and you always will be, as long as he's around.

megumi likes to be left alone, mindlessly staring at the view and keeping to himself during car rides but ever since you came into his life and he noticed your uneasy behaviour, he finds himself worrying and pampering over you. he makes sure you get the window seat and that you get enough space to sit however is comfortable, even if that meant you lying down with your head on his lap and groaning every two seconds; the pins and needles on his legs due to the constant weight on them go unnoticable to him.

yuta always chooses walking over smaller distances because he knows how easily carsick you can be. he also loves giving you piggyback rides when your legs get too tired. on longer trips when you can't avoid it though, he looks after you the entire ride. offering his shoulder to sleep on, opening the window to make sure you get enough air and making sure you stay hydrated despite your complaints and snarls because you were queasy. he's so so patient with you.

toge has a little box where he keeps his throat medicine for himself and lots of meds for you including one that would help in easing your nausea. at times when the meds don't work and you're violently puking with your head throbbing, he holds your hair and gently rub circles on your back. if you needed to sit on the side of the street to wait for the motion sickness to pass, he waits with you.

[hitomisuzuya]

OMGKOFMGMFOOFMF I LOVE UR WORK SM AND FEEL FREE TO IGNORE THIS…..

Scummy scara x reader smutty where hes like a weirdo and as usual obsessed with darling and just a sucker for you!!! I LIVE for ur scummy scara so😘😘

Luv u lots stay hydrated and healthy and thank you!!!❤️❤️

Scummy Scaramouche x fem!reader. Smut. Scara being obsessive, possessive, and perverted. Masturbation. Dry humping. Cumming on instead of inside. Pre established relationship in the beginning.

Thank you so much🥺🥺 I really love how this request was worded.

Scaramouche couldn't believe his luck one night. Never had he been so glad he took a walk because he couldn't sleep, thoughts of you consuming his mind. He was paused outside your dorm room, hearing the softest, most curious noises coming from behind the door.

His hand hovered over his hardening cock. He knew what you were up to, judging from the soft whimpers and moans. He pressed his ear to your door, closing his eyes.

He could just see you naked with your legs spread, your fingers working over your pussy as you writhed restlessly on your bed. Your back would arch as you grinded into your fingers. Shaky moans and sighs you were trying to muffle sounded from you, your fingers pinching and rubbing your clit.

Scaramouche bit his lip, having to swallow his own moans as his cock hardened and strained in his jeans. He wanted so badly to take his cock out and jack off to the sounds of your noises while he pictured you.

He couldn't help but palm his cock. He wanted to be the one making you make those noises. He heard your moans tinged with whimpers as you fingered yourself. He could picture you struggling, your hips bucking as you fucked yourself onto your fingers.

You poor thing. Your fingers were so small, they couldn't reach the places his fingers could. He really wished that your door was open a little, so he could actually see you fingering your pussy into a sopping mess trying desperately to get yourself off.

He almost lost it hearing you whimper softly about how you wanted to cum. He had reluctantly retreat back to his own dorm, not being able to ignore the ache in his cock anymore. With the aid of a pair of your panties he'd stolen from your room while you were out, he fisted his cock thinking of the all the ways he'd love to ruin you, and get you off.

Scaramouche would always make you cum, even discover that could squirt with his fingers alone.

Being that he is a trust fund baby, whatever Scaramouche wanted, Scaramouche got. It was only a matter of time before he sank his claws into you, and made you his. You came so willingly and obediently, the good girl that he could corrupt and ruin, reduce to a cock slut for him. It made him wonder if you'd been thinking about him that night.

"Everyone has to know," Scaramouche growled, pinning your wrists together above your head. He groaned, grinding his cock against your clothed cunt. "Everyone has to know you fucking belong to me, slut," He pulled your hair, forcing your head to the side so he could suck and bite on your neck.

He quivered feeling your body react to him. Your body twitched into his touches as you moved your head to the side, exposing your throat submissively to him. Your hips moved in time with his, his cock creating friction on your clit through your panties. He could feel your skin heating from embarrassment at how wet you were getting.

Your clit throbbed as your panties clung to it, the stimulation making you grind more needily against him. It always sent him reeling how fast he could make you needy for him. Even the way you squirm told him you enjoyed having your hands trapped above your head.

"Fuck, I can feel you soaking through my jeans," Scaramouche moaned next to your ear, his teeth biting and sucking greedily next to your throat. He knew you would never hide his deep bruises of possession.

Childe especially needed to see them.

Scaramouche reached down unbutton his jeans. He hissed softly in relief once he took it out. He hastily moved your panties aside. "How about if I cum on this pretty pussy, hm?" He rubbed his cock against your bare clit, tearing louder moans from your throat.

You mewled in pleasure as he delivers a wet flick to your clit, pleasure burst white hot behind your eyes as your hips jerked up to grind your pussy on his cock. His hand tightened on your wrists, groaning as his cock pulsed between your folds.

He let out an aroused, shaky laugh at how quickly your pussy was soaking his entire cock. He purposely pushed the head of his cock into your pussy, purely just to tease you and work you up more.

The more cock drunk you are for him, the more he could corrupt you.

Your moan of bliss as his cum spurted onto your cunt was the sweetest he'd heard.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

End Game 6

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, stalking, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your gaming buddy asks to meet up but it doesn’t go exactly as planned.

Characters: Andy Barber

Note: Andrew keeping us angry this fine friday

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You leave your headphones around your neck and tuck your phone into your pocket. You focus on the simple steps of loading the coffee machine as your grandmother mutters and shuffles away. You can hear her harrumph as she goes into the front room and the groan of her chair as she sits heavily.

The scratch of dry pages sounds as she gives no acknowledgement to the intruder. You stop in the archway as a chill runs through you. You’re sick to your stomach. The walls are closing in. They always feel a bit tight, suffocating even, but you’re really trapped. He’s not going to stop. He’s showing you just that. 

You make yourself keep going. You come out into the front room. Andy stands by the bay window, looking out onto the unmowed lawn. His shoulders are straight even as he has his hands in his pockets. He wears a pair of sleek pants and a powder blue button-up with short sleeves. He looks as put together as ever, definitely out of place in your grandmother’s cramped house. 

“Coffee on,” you croak to your grandma and Andy turns, his lips twitching as his cheek dimples, “can we talk outside?” 

He tilts his head, “sure,” he accepts, “Cassie,” he nods at your grandma as he struts across the room, “sorry for disturbing you. You have a lovely home.” 

Your grandmother rocks the chair and looks up at him. There’s an arch in her brow that isn’t entirely bothered, “thank you, Andrew? Was it?” 

“Andy,” he grins. 

“Hm,” she grumbles and narrows her eyes, “sorry to hear about your kid.” 

“Thanks,” his voice falters, “getting through.” 

He nears and you quickly turn away, keeping your distance from him as he follows you the door. You can barely get it open before he catches up. He holds the door above your head as he trails you outside and you stumble down the step. You spin to face him, crossing your arms as you maintain a wide breadth from him. He stops on the bottom stair and watches you. 

“Why are you doing this?” You ask crisply. 

“I’m trying to help you.” 

“I don’t need help--” 

“You sure about that?” He challenges swiftly. 

You wince and look away. You’re embarrassed. You never invited friends over because they weren’t welcome. Even Kara only ever saw the outside of your grandma’s house and you never told her about the nasty remarks or the boiling silences that had you fleeing like a frog from hot water. 

You swallow and purse your lips tightly, “I’m sure. I’m just fine.” 

“Can’t be easy, living like that,” he remarks. 

“Stop,” you keep your gaze averted. 

“Not just the peeling walls and whatever, but her, she’s not very nice, is she?” 

“I told you to stop,” you snap at him, facing him, “you do not know me or my life.” 

“You’re the one closing me out,” he accuses, “honey, please, I want to know. Has anyone else even asked? Checked in?” 

“I have friends--” 

“Yeah, but they got their own live, don’t they? Like, what’s her name, Kayla?” He puts a hand up, then snaps his fingers, “Kara, yeah, that’s it. Sure, you had your day out but what’s she doing for you now? Miles away.” 

“I’ll figure it out. I am,” you sniff, “it’s not your business, Andy.” 

“You know, making yourself suffer isn’t some great show of honour, right? You’re just spitting in the face of the escape you’ve been hoping for--” 

“No, not with you,” you sneer. 

“How do you know that? Why can’t it be me?” 

“You know--” 

“I know, I lied. I hurt you. I’ve apologised over and over and I’ll keep doing that as long as I need to. Honey, let me ask you, when has anyone ever said sorry to you? When have they ever cared about your feelings? About your forgiveness?” He cranes to look at the house then back to you, “did your parents ever say sorry for leaving you here? Does your grandma ever say sorry for insulting you? How about Kara? Does she ever apologise for ignoring you for that skinny kid she’s got nipping at her heels?” 

“How do you know that?” You exclaim, “what-- why--” you can barely speak as your head reels. You don’t understand how he knows about Kara or how he found you or why he just won’t give up. “Andy, I—you can’t replace Jacob, alright? I don’t want anything from you. I can’t-- I can’t take it. Alright? It’s not right.” 

“I’m not trying to replace him, he’s gone,” Andy drops his shoulders and steps onto even ground, “I’m trying to start over and I’m offering you the same thing. You don’t have to stay in this shit hole. You don’t have to wallow like this. I could get you into a better school. I can make a few calls, get you in at UMass or Boston, close to me--” 

“What the fuck?” You burst out, “what-- no. No. You’re... you... I don’t want that.” 

He’s quiet. His brows knit as he stops just a step away, “why not?” 

You stare at him, stunned. You should want it, shouldn’t you? To get out? To have better? Opportunity doesn’t knock on your door every day but this is not that. This is strange. He hasn’t said so but you know there’s more than just generosity at play. More than a mourning father trying to do good. 

“Because I don’t want to be anyone’s burden. So no thank you. I am not interested in whatever you’re offering. I can’t trust you. Everything between us is based on a lie,” you say, “you need to understand that and move on.” 

He stares at you. His blue eyes search your defiant face and he blows out slowly through his nose. He pushes his shoulders back and stands at his full height. 

“No, you don’t understand,” his face darkens and you back up, “you don’t understand everything I can give you. Everything I could do for you. You don’t get it. You’re young and you have no idea because you’ve never had any of those things.” He steps closer as you inch away, “but what you really don’t understand is what I can take away from you.” His lashes flick down and he sighs, “I didn’t want it to be like this but it’s the only way to make you see.” 

“What do you mean?” You utter. 

He smiles, not a real smile, a wry, almost mournful smile. He shrugs and you flinch as he sidesteps you. You keep out of his way as he strides down the walkway and you turn to watch his back. He stops at the end and peeks back, “you and me, we were meant to be together. Can’t you see that? It wasn’t chance, it’s fate.” 

He puts his back to you once more and struts to his silver SUV. You stay as you are, trapped in everything he said and didn’t. He’s not done and there’s nothing you can say or do to stop him.  

Or maybe it’s not you who needs to stop him. 

🎮

It isn’t your first time in a precinct. You have vague memories of similar scenes from your childhood; some faded by the years, others out of pain. As you pass through the doors, doubt stops you in your tracks. How many times did they send you home with your mother still reeking of alcohol or let your father out still in one of his rages? 

It’s been a long time and the world is different. Isn’t it? Besides, you’re an adult now. You have a voice. You better start using it. 

You approach the desk where a man in uniform sits behind thick plexiglass. You cough to get his attention and bounce nervously on the balls of your feet. You can’t think how to begin so you just start talking. 

“Uh, hi, um, I think I need to file a police report?” You say. 

He looks at you dully, “for what?” 

“Well, er, I... don’t know what it would be technically called, I guess. But, this guy, uh, a man... he won’t leave me alone.” 

The officer scoffs, “really? You young ones...” 

“It’s not... I don’t know him, sir, so--” 

“Let me guess? He whistled at you on the street? Or maybe he offered to buy you a drink?” He narrows his eyes. 

“No, sir. He’s been following me. He showed up at my work and my house and I told him to go but he... won’t.” 

He rolls his eyes but grabs a piece of paper. He shakes his head and slides it under the slot, “fine, fill it out. We’ll put the incident on file. Unfortunately, we don’t lay charges for being social.” 

Great. So you were wrong. Again. And why would they take you seriously? No one ever does. 

You sit and fill out the form. Your info, Andy’s info, and a written recount of each incident. You think you have the dates right. You bring it back to the desk. 

“I have texts too, if that helps.” 

“Nah,” he takes the form as you push it through, “not like you’re going to court.” 

You grimace. You hate being talked to like you’re stupid, you’d rather be ignored. 

“Well, thanks, I guess,” you grumble. 

“Hold up,” he says, “gotta do a quick check before we file this.” 

He types into his computer. He looks between the paper and the screen. You wait. What a waste of time. Now you’re sure he’s just trying to make you look stupid. 

“Where is this Andrew Barber from? He’s not in the local records.” 

“I don’t... know,” you blink. He said something about Boston U? “Massachussetts, maybe? I think he’s a lawyer.” 

“Pretty common name...” he mutters as he hits several keys, “hmm, let’s see. Lawyer... sure, makes sense—ha, assistant DA? All the way down here?” He looks at you, “alright, honey, why don’t you go have more fun on Google?” 

“No, it’s not--” 

“You know it’s obstruction to file a false report,” he says. 

“No, it’s true. I told you, I have messages--” 

“So you don’t know him but you’re texting him?” He challenges, “I’m advising you to leave right now before I book you for wasting my time.” 

You exhale and shake your head, dropping your shoulders as you turn. You drag your feet across the gray tile and to the door. So much for trying. Just like everything else, it’s a lost cause. You’re starting to believe Andy. He might be your only chance. You really are that pathetic. 

No, you won’t give in. You might not have had much in life. Maybe not a nice house or a good family or even done anything great but you’re still your own person. You’re working towards that. You’re going to school, you’re making minimum wage, you’re doing what you have. It’s a means to an end. Andy can’t be that end. 

You don’t know what to do. It’s not like you can ask your grandma. She’d never listen long enough to understand and even if she did, would she care? 

You wander down the street and sit on a bench, numb as you try to think of something. You clutch your phone and look down at the screen. You have one lifeline left but is it too much to ask? You unlock the phone and find Kara’s name. 

You hit the call button and raise the phone to your ear. Maybe she knows what to do. She always had boy troubles; you remember when Michael had a crush on her in grade eleven. 

“Heya! How are ya, girl?” She answers with a giggle. 

“Kara, I’m...” you search the street and your eyes water, “not good.” 

“Oh,” her tone falls, “oh, is everything okay?” 

“No.” 

“What’s going on? Are you hurt? Is your grandma okay?” She hushes someone and you hear rustling as she moves on the other end. 

“Kara, you remember that boy I met online. The one I was supposed to meet?” 

“Yeah, the one that stood you up.” 

“It wasn’t a boy. I mean. It wasn’t who I thought it was...” it all comes tumbling out before you can stop yourself, “it was his dad.” 

“What?” She nearly shrieks, “ew. Oh my god, what the fuck?” 

“Yeah, and he...” you see a silver SUV and your words crackle. The window rolls down as the car slows and Andy peers out at you. 

He knows Kara. He saw her at the con and somehow he learned more about her. How did he do that? Obviously, he has connections. Far above you. And her. If he can find out who she is, where you are, what else can he do? 

You’ve already told her too much. 

“Sorry, Kar, I gotta go--” 

“Wait, wait, wait, you can’t drop that on me and just bail,” Kara squeals. 

“I’m sorry, I just... I’ll call you back.” 

You hang up and lower the phone. You stare at Andy as he parks and gets out of the car. He shuts the door and crosses the pavement, turning to sit beside you. He peers around casually. 

“So, should I expect a visit from the police?” He asks. 

You sit back and scoff, “whatever, dude.” 

“I got a lot of buddies on the force. They don’t mess with DA’s, even out of district. If you gave me a chance, you’d know these things about me.” 

You don’t say anything. He’s not listening and he’s not going to. You should be used to that. 

“So, do we keep going?” He asks. 

You slide to the edge of the bench. You don’t look at him. You just walk away. He’s your problem. You can’t make him Kara’s too. Not when he’s showing you exactly how far he’ll go. 

[ronearoundblindly]

Feed the Fish

Jake Jensen x roommate!Reader

part of Audio/Visual (see previous or JJ Masterlist)

Summary: The first morning after you and Jake finally get together.

Warnings for smut (tender, loving, protected sex; for the record I consider Jake a boob-man; is arm kink a thing?; glasses-wearing because he wants to see you gdi) and fluff, other referenced *acts* and adorkable Jake. Not very well edited, probably. WC 2k

*gif from Pinterest

He smells you, but by default his brain tells him it’s the same as the morning after you hung out in his room. Incidental rub-off on his sheets, that’s all.

The scent is potent, however, and when he squirms in interest, he realizes he’s weighed down, his leg threaded between yours, your head on his bicep.

He opens his eyes and doesn’t quite believe. Everything’s hazy and not just because his glasses are behind him on the table. He was tired last night, hornier than all hell, and then he tired both of you out embracing that desperate need.

A hazy, flurried, unbelievable fuck. 

If you weren’t in his arms, he’d hardly even hope…

He can only see the crown of your hair. Your forehead is pressed to his sternum. He tilts his gaze as gently as he can to see that you two are under the covers and the only stitch of clothing between you is still that bastard, taunting tank top.

In frustration, Jake flexes, and the tensive bulge under your ear makes you shift, stretching out your neck just long enough for him to tug his arm out. He opens his mouth in a silent cry at the pins-and-needles numbness along his limb, but it’s temporary.

You’re beautifully blurry without his glasses, soft at the edges and glowing in morning light from your window. He can tell from how his awakening shoulder keeps sinking off balance that the edge of your small mattress is near. He reaches for your waist to scoot closer before thinking, yeah, I could totally get closer.

He lowers himself as he nears, curling in toward you slightly so his lips reach chest-level. He’s enamored with the give of your plump flesh, how each breast is the perfect firmness to cradle in his palm. He feels a nipple harden under the pad of his thumb as he absently caresses you. It barely matters. He’s already a goner.

Lost in kissing across the swath of skin exposed by your low neckline, Jake only knows you’re awake when a sharp breath pushes you into his mouth and drags your naked cunt along his thigh.

The most amazing, melodic, exotic sigh escapes you before your fingers card through his hair and egg him on.

He wants to look up and kiss you for real, but morning breath is a thing and he’s avoiding all possible deal-breakers. He’s not going to give this up, not anytime soon, not for like a few hours for sure.

He doubles down on his area of focus by teasing his teeth over your covered nipple, eliciting a continuance-worthy moan. He moves onto the other but refuses to work with constraints anymore. Jake yanks up the hem of your top until he has full access.

“Jake,” you rasp quickly, a tiny cry of excitement following, your hips rocking you against him.

He straightens his leg partially—which disappoints you, makes you whine—only to snake his hot palm around your body, wedging his fingers between your asscheeks until the tips can feel your folds, a juicy spot at your entrance just begging to be explored.

His wrist settles to spread you apart for him.

One finger gets to work, and then another, all while you keen and hump the meat of his thigh.

He tenses his muscle, offering a harder surface to grind your clit on. Your hands grip at his neck and shoulder for leverage.

He likes how utterly wild your breathing comes above him. He likes how helpless you are to choose between the onslaught of stimulation. He likes—

Jake’s focus is pulled by the nudge of your bellybutton against the underside of his stiffening cock, and he stops moving his fingers and mouth, a groan rattling his chest and his eyes rolling backward.

He loses himself in the sensation long enough to drive you mad.

“Please,” you squeal. “More, Jakey, please.”

Oh man, how many times has he heard that in his head? How long has he imagined you just like this and every way in between? He’ll be damned if he misses the chance to hear it again, to fuck you again, to sleep with you again.

Jake molds his mouth wide over one breast and drags the flat of his tongue slowly across your nipple, in perfect contradiction of the furious pace of his digits delving into your slick pussy.

Ironically, he knows he doing well when you clutch at his back and try to push him away. You can’t take it, but you want to take it.

Seconds later, you’re squeezing his fingers and immediately mimicking that pleasure with a full-body shudder.

Now he’s mad.

You didn’t make any noise.

He imagined noise. Unacceptable. He’ll just have to make you come again. That’s all there is to it.

Jake isn’t buying your praise; he’s convinced it couldn’t have been ‘good’ enough with such a tame climax.

Ruinous, right? He’s supposed to ruin you with his charms and his dick. That’s…that’s what you wanted all this time, isn’t it?

As you kiss the top of his head, his lightened strands mussed to spikes not by product but by sweat from your lustful palms, Jake realizes he doesn’t actually know.

“What did you think about…when you’d touch yourself?”

He won’t look up, continuing feathery kisses along the valley of your breasts and across your collarbone.

Where he expected obvious things, you surprise him.

His arms? Like the thick of his forearms and the veins along them? Okay, yeah, muscles. That tracks. His glasses, too? Shit. He thought those were nothing but a nuisance to everyone, but then you describe why. You imagined how his lenses would fog if he wore them while eating you out.

Jake swallows thickly.

He might have imagined that, too. Once or twice. At least.

You do mention his cock but only as an afterthought to digging your nails into his thighs as he fucks your throat which—Jesus fucking Christ—he wasn’t prepared for. He would be zero-four guessing your fetishized zones. Those are about his normal odds with women.

“How could I forget?” you exclaim. “You’re ass!”

Your hand slaps down to spank him rather harshly, and Jake jolts forward, smothering a shocked laugh in the rolled up fabric of your tank top.

“What a gift! I mean, just, what a sight!”

Should he…

Should he feel objectified?!

He kinda likes it though.

Objectification can continue while he’s on his back, however, because he’s losing feeling in his one arm for the third time. It hurts.

Jake grabs you by the waist and rolls, but strategically so you don’t fall, lift his hips and shoulders separately to inch back to the center of the—goddamnit, tiny—small bed. As awkward as he thought the move would be, you seem remarkably more distracted by his erection than anything else.

He could get used to this.

Pumping his cock in your hands, you coo that it’s his ‘turn’ for the morning and dismount him to grab a condom from a desk door. You even peel off your tank to toss it over his dopey grin.

Vaguely reminded of his incident with your t-shirt in this very room, Jake takes the opportunity to put his glasses back on from where their precarious spot within arms reach.

Now he can see you so clearly. He’s overjoyed to be allowed to see you so clearly, watching you return to him bare and bathed in cool light, a soft smile on your face.

“What did you think about?”

“Huh?”

Jake forgot what the fuck you were talking about a minute ago. In all fairness, how is he supposed to remember anything while you stroke a condom down his length? Believe him, he needs no help staying hard and attentive in your presence.

“When you touched yourself, Jake,” you clarify with a sultry sternness.

That, he thinks. “Your voice,” he rasps, eyelids growing heavy seeing you work him like you’ve known his body for years. “Thought of you telling me what you want me to do to you. Thought—uhhh shit—of you moaning and mewling.”

“Is that all?”

He couldn’t hold his fucking tongue under threat of torture at this point. His abs ripple, strained as he is by this wild merger of fantasy and reality.

“Think of you dripping with me,” he barely manages to not scream because that one is currently running through his mind.

You mutter a simple “one day,” and Jake bucks beneath you.

Put him out of his misery. He’ll implode soon if you don’t.

“No rush, right?” You line him up. Static takes over his brain as he gets a gloriously lit view of himself disappearing slowly inside you.

“Uh-huh, yeah, no, of course.”

“Jakey? Are you listening to me?”

“Yeah.” Were you…were you talking?

“I don’t believe you.” The taunting smirk on your lips isn’t helping. “What was I saying?”

“Something…about…”

He licks his own lips, sucking in a much needed breath and feeling the urge to take control. To stop himself, Jake lifts his arms to clutch onto the rim of the headboard above him. He doesn’t get any other words out.

“I’ll just have to keep telling you how full I feel riding you like this, huh? Should tell you I don’t know how I can go back to even my biggest dildos after having you, shouldn’t I?”

He does not even care if this is solely to fluff his ego; he’s into it.

You sound wrecked, leaning your weight on his strategically-placed forearms. He’s a fast learner. Very smart. Can easily pump up into you in this position, too, and is rewarded with a feral increase in your pace..

“Why did you wait so long to call me over, Jake?”

Oh fuck, did he do that? Did he moan your fucking name while masturbating? Did he moan your name while knowing there was a fucking recording device five feet away that you had access to? Christ, he’s not smart; he’s a perv.

“Shit,” you gasp. “You should have given me this dick sooner, Jake. Needed this.”

He could not agree more. Take the dick. It’s yours. You need this? You want this? Jake’s yours.

Hell, you can have every fucking thing he owns, just keep going.

You slow at the precipice of you orgasm, face a mosaic of emotions he’ll have to memorize some other day. Jake braces his feet on the bed to thrust up harder, and it knocks you forward so your hands entwine with his.

Fuck morning breath. He doesn’t give a shit now, both of you panting and gasping to finish. This is how he wants every morning to start, every night to end, and probably like three afternoons to…whatever fucking metaphor you want. Who cares?

Both of you are loud this time. Jake shouts and you cry out. You’re shivering atop him while he lets loose a moan low enough to rattle your bones into another aftershock.

Savoring the heat of you around his cock as he comes enough to run past the base of the condom, he unclasps one hand from above him to anchor your hip, kneading the soft swell of your thigh. He’s trying not to say something he’ll regret like he fucking loves you or marry him. He’s fine. He’ll be fine in a second.

Just…

You drop to his chest, your warmth curling against him, your nose nudging the wire of his glasses before tucking into his neck. Jesus, he can feel all of you, everywhere, and he doesn’t want it to end. He can’t lock you in here for days, right? That’s the perv talking? That’s the creep who’s needed you for months and been too much of a pussy to say it? But, no, Jake knows it’s him. He wants this.

He wants it bad enough to have a dilemma: brush his teeth before getting into the shower so he can kiss you versus going down on you in the shower then brushing his teeth after.

He can’t decide.

Instead, he states the obvious. “We are so sweaty,” he chuckles, running a hand over his goatee to still protect his mystique of not-the-grossest person you know—probably.

You laugh, too, and kiss his jaw before slowly crawling off of him and the bed.

“I’ll start the water. You go feed the fish.”

“Oh, of course—“ Jake swings his legs over the edge and removes the overflowing condom delicately “—can’t forget about the children.”

[Main Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

As if I wouldn't add this to the end...

Thank you for coming on this journey of roommates-to-lovers with me. It *will* happen again.

[queerweewoo]

“Eddie, you do know that I'm—that I'm yours, right?” Buck's eyes are holding Eddie's gaze like the fate of the world is suddenly at stake. “I mean, I'm yours for whatever you want, y’know? ‘Cause there is nobody else in my life that is... that's you, as in what you are to me, for me, and I'm—I just want you to know that I wanna be that person for you, too; need you to know that I am that person, and that I can be whatever else it is you might need me to be. Or maybe want me to be.” Eddie feels like all the oxygen has suddenly been sucked right out of his kitchen. “You—you get that, don't you, Eds?” 

Christopher once wondered out loud about which beast from the animal kingdom, other than human, would represent each of the three of them and their different personalities, and when Eddie had thought about Buck he'd pictured excitable Golden Retrievers and bounding Dalmatian puppies just as much as the next guy. But the proxy creature he'd been more sure of—and more hesitant to admit likening Buck to—was the Hummingbird, with its astonishingly strong heart that beats at something like nine-hundred times per minute (which Eddie knows about because Buck told him, of course).

Eddie has never known anybody quite like Evan Buckley, with his supercharged and forever-bleeding heart that's pinned so earnestly and so prominently to his shirt sleeve that Eddie's sure it's sometimes visible to the naked eye.

Bar his son, Buck is the greatest person Eddie's ever met.

They weren't always what they are now, though, Buck and him. Not back at the very start. But somehow, one day, somewhere along the line, they just—were.

They became Eddie and Buck. Buck and Eddie.

And this… something, that's simmering between them, it's a thing Eddie couldn't put his finger on for the longest time, couldn't quite make out whenever he attempted to look at it, trying to parse it out and see it for what it really was. It's an emotion he hadn't thought he'd be able to describe, even if he'd wanted to. A brand new feeling for Eddie's collection that he felt forming in the space behind his ribcage, something that bursts forth whenever Eddie looks over to Buck on the job, or at weekends when they take Christopher for days out at the park or the zoo, or whenever Eddie thinks about Buck when Buck's not around. Buck: this long-legged, loyal to a fault smiling guy who has become the best friend Eddie has ever had. Hell, he just feels it all the time. Invisible yet almost tangible, this unnamed something first sprouted like a sapling the day the two of them dug a live fragmentation grenade out of that retired third-grade teacher's thigh, springing up and growing branches that get bigger every day, reaching outward towards the sun to bathe in its warm rays, seeking out life. It grew within Eddie, and it's still growing, spreading out through every part of his life, now, not with the speed or ferocity of a wildfire but a thing similar to climbing roses; slow and steady, delicate yet hardy and strong.

Its true nature has always been just a little to the left of Eddie's range of understanding, though, an almost ethereal thing just slightly out of his reach. For a while, he hadn't dared to examine it all that carefully, or at all. Hadn't known how to, honestly. He now thinks that talking to Frank and embarking on his journey to figure out Who Am I?—trying to find out who Edmundo Diaz is as a person—was probably the start of him working out what this ever-expanding something between him and Buck actually is. 

Eddie came to the conclusion pretty quickly after that, that Evan Buckley, this kind-hearted, wide open, supremely loving giant puppy dog of a person with the heart of a Hummingbird, has become his person. Before Eddie even had the opportunity to notice that their relationship had started to change and morph into something different than what it was at the start, Buck had simply become his partner. In all ways, seemingly. Not just at work, but in life. And Eddie—well. Eddie realised at some point that he was somehow, amazingly, now apparently one hundred percent Buck's person, too. 

The only other soul Eddie has ever gotten close to in that way was Shannon, and sadly everything about their relationship had been so profoundly situational. Eddie thought he'd needed a girlfriend in high school, and Shannon was so, so lovely and had wanted to be that person for Eddie. Then Christopher had unexpectedly come along when they were both still so young, and they'd got married because that was the right thing to do, what Eddie thought he was supposed to do. He then ran away scared, by enlisting, and his life ended up spinning out of control and heading someplace he wasn't old enough to have even imagined, a life he'd somehow acquired and felt he had zero control over.

Not that he'd change any of it. There was happiness in the love he and Shannon had for each other, even if it hadn't quite been the right kind of love, and they'd made a beautiful baby together, a beautiful boy. And after coming home to Christopher after his last tour, at long last, Eddie knew he wouldn't, couldn't, be without that kid ever again.

Christopher was and is the one true shining light in Eddie Diaz's messed up life. 

Until Buck. 

Eddie and Buck, they have chosen each other as partners. And as parents, too—that's the truth of it. And they've gotten so close to each other in such a quiet, gentle way that Eddie hadn't been able to see the wood for the trees, it seems, hadn't realised their dynamic had shifted quite as significantly as it has over the years. Infinitesimally, then bit by bit, but so vastly and so dramatically at the same time.

He and Buck are together. All of the time. Because they choose to be. Because it just feels so damn right for them to be that way.  Together, they are what Eddie believes partners are supposed to be.

At some point it had dawned on Eddie that the two of them, he and Buck, had moved beyond just friends and into… that something. Something else. It had just happened so softly and so seamlessly, and with such unprecedented ease, that even after he'd clocked it, he hadn't really thought to question it because it happily became a thing that just was.

Yeah, Buck and Eddie just kind of... are.

Eddie also doesn't know when exactly it was that their increasingly frequent touches became softer, lingering things, warm and comforting and different to the way either of them touches anybody else. Buck has been Eddie's person for what feels like forever, but Eddie started to find more recently that this thing in his chest that is constantly reaching out for Buck, this bond, this something special that they share, it was becoming something that pines and wants and needs, something fragile but at the same time so amazingly and unerringly steadfast.

Like the Hummingbird.

They're an immovable thing, Eddie and Buck. They're Buck and Eddie. They're Eddie and Christopher and Buck. And the three of them, together, are the one thing in Eddie's life that is so assuredly grounding, and so real, that Eddie often feels his chest might burst right open with the force of it.

Together, they've become more.

Eddie has learned that when you find your way to that person, your person, the one who makes you feel like even when everything really isn't okay, having that feeling is okay as long as they are here, with you. It's an unwavering thing. An absolute thing. 

The real thing. 

Eddie looks across his kitchen table at Buck, his Buck, right here and right now, and realises that this something between them is the thing that all those poets throughout the ages have been writing their sonnets about. 

Sunshine. Wildfire. Climbing roses. 

This something—this person, Eddie's person, Eddie's Buck—is standing in front of Eddie wearing his Hummingbird heart on his sleeve and offering Eddie a share in his world.

This something; it's a thing called love. 

Maybe Eddie got there first. Maybe Buck did. Maybe it dawned on them both at the same time, but Eddie knows that they both know it now, he knows it with the way all of Buck's love is radiating out of his body and flowing into Eddie's, like a shared life-force or magic or some cosmic shit Eddie knows he doesn't really need to comprehend. 

I'm yours, Buck told him moments ago.

Eddie takes a breath, and begins.

“I'm yours, too, Buck. All yours. It's you and me, man. Together. You and me and Christopher, because I know just how much you love him...” and he doesn't dare add what is the hopefully implied ‘too’ at the end of his declaration, but only because he doesn't know how to say it out loud, just yet. 

Until he very much does, barely a second into Buck nodding and beaming like Texas sunshine and saying, “You do get it,” and Eddie knows absolutely that he can say it, now.

So he does.

“Yeah, Buck. I do. Because I love you, mi Colibrí. I love you.”

Buck surges, becoming that wildfire as he rounds Eddie's kitchen table, their table, and Eddie stands to meet him, his Buck, his unstoppable force, his best friend, his heart, and Eddie's chair is clattering to the floor as they grab onto each other, big handfuls of shirts and arms and faces and napes of necks, gripping tightly and hanging on for dear life because maybe the fate of the world, their world, really is at stake after all. 

Yet stood here in Eddie's kitchen, together, holding each other, Eddie somehow knows they both understand that their world can't actually be tipped on its axis so easily, not by injuries or natural disasters or even The Great Unknown. Buck and Eddie can't be shaken so hard they come apart at their seams because like everything else in their lives, they're in this together.

Eddie and Buck, Buck and Eddie. They'll figure this thing out.

Together. 

Buck is standing so close that Eddie can feel warm breath on his cheeks, a definite panting that mirrors Eddie's, both their chests now heaving with the air that's crackling between them, eyes roaming all over each other's faces and then Buck's baby blue's settle on Eddie's mouth and Eddie's follow suit, and he's amazed at just how pink Buck's lips are this close up and all he can comprehend in this moment is that he doesn't think he's ever wanted a person so much in his entire fucking life, has never felt the pull of want and need and home as strongly as he does right here and right now, for his best friend. His partner. His Colibrí. 

His Buck.

“Buck, I want—” Eddie's yearning is so loud he can't even finish his sentence. 

“Me too,” Buck helps, and he's leaning in a little further, tentatively and so damn slowly that Eddie wants to scream at him to get on with it but also wants to freeze-frame them in amber because this is the moment that he knows, really knows; the moment Eddie has been trying to uncover; the rose bush and its branches, the fire, the sunshine; the moment Eddie finally understands what it is that he feels for this man now in his arms, knows exactly what their something is and what it was all along; the moment Eddie has been unknowingly and unbelievably hoping, hoping, hoping would arrive someday.

Today, Eddie thinks, and he can't wait any longer so he kisses Buck and Buck kisses him back and Eddie knows, then, inherently, that Buck loves him, too. 

[END]

AUTHOR'S NOTES:

inspired by and a tribute to one of the loveliest fics i've ever read: OF HUSHED WORDS AND HUMMINGBIRDS by the hugely talented procannibals on ao3... you should absolutely click the link to go read it and show it all the love it deserves! btw the themes of hummingbirds as a metaphor, plus eddie's question of 'who am i?` here belong entirely to mo (procannibals) and the fic linked that i've just mentioned.

this is also on ao3 HERE (published as 'Today') if you'd like to be so kind to pop across there and leave me a comment xp

[simplyvyn]

NO ONE LIKE YOU.

You and Kaiser had a pretty rough breakup. Well, for him. You knew he'd be back on the hook. There's plenty of fish in the sea, he says. Guess you're a dolphin.

M. Kaiser x reader - 1.1k wc

Warnings: exes to lovers, very ooc Kaiser but in a good way i promise, german! reader

꒷꒦⋆⑅˚₊┈ • ┈ ・ʚɞ ・ ┈ • ┈₊˚⑅⋆꒷꒦⋆⑅˚₊┈ • ┈ ・ʚɞ꒷꒦

"Stop being so damn petty. You're not THAT special anyways!" Kaiser yelled.

"Is asking for a little bit of proof that you DO love me, that hard? I barely even see you because you've been so focused up with Isagi, praying for his downfall and shit." You replied back. You kept your tone low, not wanting any of the people at your hotel hear you both.

"You don't have to see me all day! Y/N, we've been together for at least a year and a half! You can't handle living without me?"

"I can! But you just don't show that we have been together these days!"

"Alright, i'll make things easier for you. Lets not be together then. Leave. I can find someone who's not petty and clingy as you." He said.

You scoff. "Me? Clingy? Okay, I'll admit i do have clingy feelings but you cannot find anyone like me. Someone who can last long with your attitude. I'd like to see you try." You are as competitive as your boyf- ex. Boyfriend. But you wanted to see. A little challenge wont mind right?

"Pfft. Theres plenty of fish in the sea. Watch and learn." He said.

That's how your little relationship ended. It's been at least 8 months, 2 weeks and 6 days approximately since your break up with him. Your in your couch, sitting idly scrolling through the channels of your TV. your phone was beside you, it was 11:41 PM when a notification popped up on your phone. From an unknown number.

??: You win.

You: hm?

??: No damn fish can compare to you, liebes.

You grin with victory. You already knew who it was as you sigh and put your phone down on the couch, letting him do the action. It was just minutes later until you heard banging on the door. You jump from it and walk to the door, you were hesitating wether you should open it. You already knew it was him, why were you hesitating? Heat flew through your cheeks and the air seems hotter than usual, your thoughts were immediately shut off when someone spoke from the other side of the door.

"I know your on the other side of the door Schatz, open up." He spoke which made you immediately open the door.

"Yet you still have an ego to talk to me like that. Better yet, to even talk to me. Why are you here, König?" You held on your door knob while tilting your head.

"I want to talk to you." You already knew. You sighed, your chest arising then dropping as you did. "Get inside."

You went to your kitchen to grab water and you didn't notice Kaiser following you. Like a helpless dog.

"Why are you following me?" You ask as you turn around. "I said i wanted to talk to you. Of course i need to see you."

You drank on the cup of your water and turned to him once again and you leaned on your kitchen counter.

"Okay... speak."

He was in a white button-up shirt with black pants and a watch on his wrist. He seemed quite shy. Embarassed? Something like that. He put his hand behind his neck and averted your gaze. "Look, i don't wanna admit this but I'll go straight to the point.. you we're right."

Your head tilting in confusion. Well, not really, you were just pretending. "On what?"

He sighed before look at you. "That.. i cant find anyone... like you..." You definitely heard that. But you just need him to say it a bit louder.

"Hmm?"

"I said.. I can't find anyone like you...."

"Speak up Liebling.. What did you say?" You slightly leaned closer to him tilting your head and putting a hand to your ear, pretending that you need to hear him more clear. Of course, he noticed that.

The next thing you will know, he pulled you by the wrist, pushing you to the counter behind you to pin you. Leaning closer to your ear, you can feel his hot breath in your ear as he whispered;

"I won't repeat this again. For the past ten months that i have dated other people other than you, has been pain. No one can keep up with my egoistic personality as much as you can, hübsch.." You can feel him smirk on your ear. even though you can't see it, it sent heat waves through your face. Simple words from him made you so flustered.

With his hand holding your wrist, the other hand of his went up to your face, holding your chin and looked down on you.

"Well, of course no one was more prettier than you that's why I came here to see you, Mein liebe."

"Hah! Yeah, for calling me clingy, it won't be easy getting me back Kaiser. And I especially won't make it easier for you." You said.

But it only really takes you to seal away to him was just a simple kiss. He put a peck in your lips, then your temples and your neck. He picked you up and sat you on the kitchen counter and continued kissing your lips, it was more intimate now, he was closer, chest to chest. Why would he be worried about anything? Your kissing him back, it was already obvious to him that you want him back. Hish hands we're on your hand holding it, the other was on your hip to keep you in place.

It seems liked he doesn't want you to let go, well you don't plan to either way, its been so long since you felt like this in 10 months. You've been definitely missing out these past months with doing nothing about your love life. And thanks to Kaiser, it doesn't seem like it anymore.

The first one to pull away was you. Panting out of breath, as you look down but he was only looking at you so addictingly. Did he really miss you even the times he dated other people? He didn't know he misses you that much. He kissed you on your cheek, forehead and a little peck on the lips, his grip on your waist tightened as you held on his shoulder.

"Kommst du zu mir zurück, Liebling?" He asked.

"I told you, It'll probably take the same time as how you wanted to find someone that can keep up with you."

He frowned a bit looking down, but you cup his face.

"Wenn Sie mich morgen zum Mittagessen einladen, ist die Zeit vielleicht kürzer"

And he nodded eagerly, "Anything for my queen."

Translations: Liebes (dear) / Schatz (sweetheart) / Konig (king) / Liebling (darling) / hübsch (pretty) / Mein Liebe (My love) / Kommst du zu mir zurück, Liebling? (Will you come back to me, darling?) / Wenn Sie mich morgen zum Mittagessen einladen, ist die Zeit vielleicht kürzer (If you invite me to lunch tomorrow, maybe the time will be shorter)

A/N: its finally finished.. some translations might be wrong guys mbmb, lmk if there is rqs r open btw mwamwa! kinda wanna write for kageyama nut idk what prompt lol. lmk if u guys have any idea ><

[bubbipond]

My favorite part of this episode is the rewards they gave each other, mirroring different needs. Dee asked that, if he does well, Yak go to therapy.

That's the one thing haunting him; because of it, he can't fully be present in boxing, with his brother, or in relationships with Dee or Taem. He can't make up his mind solely because he sees himself as a disappointment to those he cares about. With Taem, he's stayed on the sidelines never really crossing over that friendship threshold.

He sees her as someone above him and so her loving someone on her level makes sense to him. With Dee the same thing applies, there is already another player, and that player has things in common with Dee. That's why it was so easy for Doc Ter to get in his head. Meanwhile, with his brother, we see he is never fully honest with. Cher knows more about Yak's life than Yei and that's due to the constant fear of disappointing Yak. Whereas we see Cher shows that there isn't anything Yak can do that would lead him to feel that way.

I'd argue that, in the way Kao is Dee's sounding board, Cher tends to be Yak's.

Then with Dee, Yak asks for his first kiss. I won't say that the notion Dee has is ridiculous, he should do what feels right to him. But, as we have seen, he does want to give it to Yak but he is scared of repeating history. Which he is doing already. Keeping Yak at arm's length like he did with Ter. Like Kao said, Dee tends to make things difficult for himself when the answers to his questions are typically very obvious. And Dee does this a lot to people, keeping them mostly at arm's length which is why he only has one friend. In retrospect, holding onto the kiss isn't about keeping it for his one true love, it's about guarding himself. That is one less thing he gives to someone who may not love him back. He didn't even give it to Ter who he has been pinning after for 8 years. Logically, if holding the kiss was all about true love and security, Yak should've been the last to get it because there is no security in their current status. But instead, he does give it to Yak because he trusts Yak completely and knows even if they aren't for each other, Yak is still someone who cares for him on a personal level.

Honestly, I am just waiting for them to bond over their dead parent trauma and realize they are one and the same.

[ideasarestuckinmyhead]

youve done cuddle positions for the boys, wb their fav uhh...y'know position

Favorite sex positions.

Alphonse

I think he'd really like either 69ing this is because he loves grabbing all over Boo when he's horny. Mf CANNOT keep his hands to himself. He also has a thing for when Boo is sucking his dick *looks at the one vid where were sucking his dick under the counter* So 69 position helps both party's grab all over each other! Also he is a messy eater ;)

Seth

I think he prefer's sex positions where he can see your face! He likes to see if he's pleasing you right! so like; missionary or cowgirl! missionary bc he's looking at you lovingly and cowgirl when you wanna save a horse n ride a cowboy.

Charlie

He did say he liked how Casper is on top of him! So I think both cowgirl positions, face sitting, and amazon positions would fit him! Reverse and normal cowgirl because he gets to look up at you focusing all your attention on him. Also bc you can grab and shove him down if needed. Face sitting bc once again wants to feel like he's in your clutches. Amazon position bc your basically moving him around and being mean to him (Which isn't a bad thing)

Finn

I think is the type to do whatever position if he's horny, mama always said the shy ones are the freakiest!! Honestly as long as you can take the lead in the position he's okay with whatever position. I mean man's got dicked down in a corn maze before he doesn't care how hes fucked he wants to get fucked please </3

Faust

He's a brat so any that would put him in his place like; doggy style, for example, I think he would like this one because you can grab his neck and tease him for moaning like a whore. Also like Finn to tug on his hair (gently)!

Auron

Honestly this man a freak and doesn't care he's had Rook pushed against a wall, bent over, sat on his lap, on their knees and more to come! So he just likes when him and Rook are enjoying the position!

Lucien

Mating press truther 100% he likes pinning Angel down and fucking them good! But I can see him liking other positions like 69 to tease Angel how he can pick the up easily, or even just holding them up and fucking into them!

Jack

I think he's pretty vanilla with his partner in bed! So a simple missionary is good for him! I feel like he'd like doing the cuddle position if y'all are too tired after classes. I feel like just like Seth is a big I wanna see your face when we make love guy.

[marimayscarlett]

i hope our dear richard knows just how loved he is. how much he matters to us. i’d give anything for one of his hugs, they look so cosy 🥰

Oh dear anon, you express exactly what I think and feel 💜

I just would want to tell Richard how much love this fandom here holds for him. How cherished he is, how much we appreciate the little things he does which makes him so admirable and lovable.

Like his enthusiasm about things he enjoys, his geekiness and dedication about music and how to create the best sound. His little lisp, his smile which reaches his eyes, his head tilt when he explains something. His love and adoration for his family and friends, his hugs, the fact that he's seemingly also very lovable with fans. Of course his talent in guitar playing and also singing, his openness and thoughtfulness about depression, addiction and therapy, the downward gaze he does when he listens intently in interviews... oh look, my hand slipped a bit 👀🫢

I sometimes do wish there was a way to let Richard know how much he means to me and us 🤍 And yes, I certainly wouldn't mind a hug from him 😌

[autisticbillpotts]

I'm losing my mind why am I so obsessed with this guy

[sysig]

Size difference.png (Patreon)

[dirt-str1der]

hello i just wanna say i genuinely like ur observation about nishiki's fighting style and then ya manage to bring it back to ur 'drug addict nishiki' headcanon like it caught me off guard but im also not surprised that is so fair and real of u okay thank u

In a world where drugs dont exist, nishikiyama’s strength comes solely from his anger and i guess he goes to the gym too

[whateveriwant]

The 141 getting you to stay in bed

It gets a little spicy towards the end so 18+ please

Soap

Waking up to the feeling of a numb arm is extremely unpleasant, but you suppose it comes with the territory when trying to cuddle 200+ pounds of rugged Scotsman

You manage to free your trapped limb and roll to the other side of the bed, but that space behind you remains empty for only about three seconds before Johnny's pressing himself flat to your back 

Now with his arms around your waist, he holds you tight to him, mumbling unintelligibly against the back of your head

He drifts back to sleep quickly enough, his grip on you starting to loosen, only for it to tighten again when he feels you try to wriggle out of his hold

The incoherent grumbles from his throat grow increasingly displeased the more you try to shift away from him, until finally he huffs a grumpy, “Quit it,” into your scalp, hooking his leg over yours 

If you still don't listen, he'll have no choice but to take drastic measures to keep you still. Fed up with your squirming, he simply rolls on top of you, pinning you to the mattress below him

You can try beating on his back, telling him that you can't breathe, but he just shrugs and says, “Use my breath.”

Don't even bother trying to explain how oxygen doesn't work like that, because he doesn't care. “Tough,” he mumbles into the crook of your neck. “‘Cause I'm no' movin’.” And by extension, neither are you

Gaz

Kyle is also a stage 5 clinger, but he's less boa constrictor and more baby koala

So when your alarm goes off at 8am precisely, it's no surprise that the man behind you grumbles in protest

“It's Saturday,” he bemoans. “Why you getting up so bloody early?” When you tell him you like to keep your routine even on the weekends, he just groans and mutters, “Five more minutes.”

You can try to squirm and wrestle out of his hold, but he'll just tighten his arm around your midsection, keeping his front firmly glued to your back

But you need to get up! You have to pee for goodness’ sake! 

“Use the empty bottle on your nightstand,” he mumbles into your hair, peeking an eye open as you crane to look back at him. The look you give him at such a horrid suggestion has him sighing. “Alright, fine,” he relents and releases you. “But be quick. Bed gets cold without you.”

Once you've answered the call of nature, don't be surprised to find Kyle waiting for you directly outside the bathroom. He's wrapped up in your comforter like an oversized burrito, only his face and feet visible as they peek out from under the plush cover

With a sleepy pout, he holds his hand out for you, tugging you back to bed with him. Oh, he’ll make sure you get those five more minutes alright. Even if he has to drag you kicking and screaming

Ghost

First of all, don't even kid yourself into thinking you'll stand a chance of waking up before him or sneaking out of bed without him knowing. This man is the epitome of a light sleeper, whenever he does sleep, that is

So when you do finally wake up, it comes as no surprise to see Simon already up too. But just because you're both awake now doesn't mean you have to immediately be productive; quite the opposite, in fact

With how busy and stressed he is all the time, Simon loves nothing more than to just lie in bed with you and do nothing for hours

If you try to get up, he's stopping you with a gentle hand on your wrist, his voice quiet but firm as he commands, “Stay.”

You'll lay back down for a bit to appease him, but it won't be long before you feel guilty since you have so many things you should be doing instead

But actually, no, you don't have  anything to worry about. He's already taken care of everything before you woke up, he humbly informs you

The cat's been fed, the bin’s been taken out to the curb, he's even gotten your breakfast typed up on his phone – just give him the word and he'll place the order

So now when he opens his arms for you, having you bury your face in his chest, you've got nothing to worry about except savoring this moment with him 

Price

John is also a very light sleeper, so it only takes .02 seconds of you trying to stand from the bed for his bear-like snores to cease and his eyes to flit wide open

He'll grab you by the shirt hem, mumbling, “Where’re y’ goin’?” But it doesn't really matter what your answer is because his response is always the same: “No y’r not.” And pulls you back down. “Y’r stayin’ right here.”

He'll lie on his stomach, face smushed in the pillow, a big, warm hand tucked under your shirt resting against your belly

With nothing better to do, you scroll through your phone, catching up on your socials, the news, etc., but it's not long before you hear him grumble, “Put that away, will ya? ‘S too early to be meltin’ your brain with that thing.”

Well, what does he expect you to do? Lie there and stare at the ceiling for an hour? “Expect you to be good,” he tells you. “Don't make me get the handcuffs out again.”

Now that you have to laugh at. If he thinks it's too early to be on your phone, it's definitely too early for that

He smirks, opening his eye just a sliver, and the hand on your stomach begins to rub soft circles. “Is that so?” he taunts, his touch sneakily edging downwards. And when he slips beneath the band of your shorts, well…

Let's just say you're not leaving that bed anytime soon

[tiza0925]

Hello! I'm new to this but have you ever thought about any of your favorite characters while they're in the act and you look down at a certain part and they're so big on you that it scares you but they're pretty sure it could fit.I don't know if you could write something like that, sorry if it makes you uncomfortable.

hellooo, absolutely love this prompt so much ty for this ♡

men that make it fit | 18+

warnings/tags: nsfw, afab/female!reader, size difference, fingering, pet names, praise kink, squirting, raw sex, implied multiple orgasms, large cocks ♡

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Big men who just cover your entire body with theirs when they’re on top of you. 

Guys who make you feel so small when you’re on their lap, their hands are so damn big that they can cover your entire waist, legs, and hands—practically engulfing you. 

Big men that just pin you to the mattress while making out with you, they’re so strong without needing to try, and you probably should feel scared by the difference in strengths but god—you feel so secure. 

And you know he’ll take care of you even if he can hurt you sometimes—never on purpose unless you want it—because of how massive he is. 

Guys who feel just a little bad when they hear you cry from them pushing their thick fingers inside you—stretching your poor cunt and making you leak all over his hand as he curls his fingers inside your plush walls, coaxing out a throbbing orgasm from you. 

“Such a sweet little thing for me,” You hear him murmur, watching as your face twists with pleasure, and he can see the slight worry in your eyes as he fucks you with his fingers. “My baby is taking me so well already.” 

But can you take his cock? 

Fuck—what if it’s too big? 

It must be—his fingers are already too much for you—his dick will be nearly impossible to fit inside you. 

“You think you can be good and take my cock?” You whine, feeling heady and muddy as he pins both of your hands above your head on the bed, while his other hand continues to twist and curl inside you, his thumb pressing and rubbing your swollen clit. “I want to feel my favourite pussy, sweetheart.” 

But you suck in a shaky breath, eyes wide and scared because you know you can’t fit all of him in, and he chuckles breathlessly as he kisses your lips so softly, making you melt against him. 

“Don’t be scared,” He kisses your cheek, then gives your trembling lower lip a gentle pull with his mouth, trying to get you relaxed as he strums his fingers through your sopping folds, his voice low and deceptively soothing. “I’ll be gentle with you, okay?” 

He always is—and that’s the thing. 

No matter how gentle he tries to be—he still ends up stretching you so wide that you think you might actually split in half, the sting of him inside you being too much that you cry sometimes.

He kisses you, and reassures you, hand running up and down your body to spread goosebumps all over your skin. 

Then he’s pushing his pants off to let his fat cock bounce free—it lands on your belly, all hot and heavy, and your breath hitches as electricity sparks through your body—and your heart rate doubles with every passing moment, just waiting for him to stuff you with his cock. 

“Relax for me,” He says while guiding his dick to slide between your plush pussy, letting your slick folds hug his length and coat them in juices as he rocks his hips—his cock head bumping against your clit every time his hips are flushed against yours. 

“You feel that, baby?” Your lashes flutter, your eyes half-lidded as he works you up, making your cunt pulse as he glides his heavy cock over it. “You’re gonna be so good and fit all of me, okay?” 

You gulp, but you still nod—because you want to be good for him. 

You want to feel him and make him feel good. 

And he watches you, focused, taking in every twitch of your features as he slowly pushes the head of his dick inside you—his eyes alight with heat when he sees the way your mouth pops open with a gasp, already feeling the intense stretch of him. 

“You’re okay, baby,” he shushes you, sliding his hands under your thighs to guide them around his waist, and you whine as you hook your arms around his neck, bringing him closer, sloppily kissing him as he waits for you to adjust. “You feel so tight already—fuck—”

He groans, his voice vibrating against you, and you begin to breathe heavily as he pushes his fat cock into you—making you feel every agonizing inch as your pussy struggles to swallow him whole. 

“I—“ Your sentence gets cut short as you choke, already feeling him in your lungs and he’s only halfway in, “I can’t—”

“You can,” One of his hands comes up to swipe a fallen tear on your cheek with his thumb, while his other hand pins you to the bed by the waist. “I know you can, baby, you always did before.”

Which is true—you always did but—

It’s just so fucking big—holy shit—

You bite your lip, and your eyes squeeze shut as you try your hardest to relax—your fluids being pushed out as he lodges his dick inside your warm, plush walls, causing a wet mess all over your thighs and bed. 

You hold him as if you’re clinging onto dear life—taking all of him as he kisses you through it—until his hips finally press against your ass, his cock so deep that your limbs grow numb and you swear you can orgasm already. 

“There you go, sweetheart,” He purrs, waiting a moment as your pussy throbs around him, feeling abused and soaked, and he smiles down at you so achingly soft. “Taking me all like a good girl for me.” 

Then he pulls back—

“Oh god—” And you keen when he rocks his hips forward, sliding his cock along your walls, and he sets a pace of fucking you—getting you wet and your eyes to roll back as he becomes greedy with your pussy. 

“Look, baby,” He grunts, thrusting his cock in and out, his length coming out slick and creamy from your arousal, and he grips your face—fingers squishing your cheeks—to make you look down. “Look how well you’re taking me.” 

Your vision is foggy, you’re barely able to comprehend anything except for the dick inside your sore cunt, and you blink blearily as you try to look at what he wants you to see and—

Fuck.

You watch the way his cock disappears into your pussy, his girth forcing its way into you—and you let out a shaky breath at the way you’re taking it all in. 

Just like he said you would. 

“Told you I’ll make it fit, sweetheart, I always do,” You hear him murmur, and you force yourself to relax into a ragged breath as your limps melt into the mattress beneath you.

You feel like you’re being split in half as he fucks you over and over, bringing you higher and higher until you’re cumming all over him—gushing out liquid as you squirt on his cock with a wet moan, his name on your tongue—

And he takes good care of you throughout it all. His aftercare overwhelms you with cuddles of love and affirmation.

He loves you too much, anyway.

End.

Bokuto, Oikawa, Ushijima, Atsumu, Suna, Gojo, Choso, Sakusa, Geto, Sukuna, Nanami, Akaza, Oda, Kuroo, Hinata, plus any of your fav characters ♡

Masterpost

[rowarn]

wet&messy, afab!reader, no prns, just my brain worms dancing as usual, simon is obsessed with ur pleasure bc i SAID so, idk what this is its not normal grinding but.....just a lil treat from the depths of my brain <3

soft devoted simon who is addicted to your pleasure. everything he does is to get u off. he literally thinks about making u cum while he eats sleeps and dreams. its his hobby tbh

he loves loves loves slow, deep, sloppy sex. he loves having you spread and pinned beneath him — he's so much bigger than u so he can manhandle u and move you however he pleases bc he knows exactly what u need before u even know urself.

in particular, his favorite thing to do is have u pinned open your knees against his ribs and his body draped over yours. either holding himself up by his elbow above your head or his arms on either side of your head. he's got his knees slid underneath your thighs, making sure his hips are flush against yours.

you can't even break eye contact, he wont let you. all you can do is whine and squeal as he makes you take it nice and deep. his body covers yours; his scenes overwhelms you his body heat makes you sweat from just how warm the man is.

then he starts with the grinding — the slow, deep grinding of his hips that makes his cock stir inside you. there's gooey, sticky wet noises from between your thighs when he does it. he makes sure he slides over your clit in this position too.

you can't do anything but twitch and drool as he does it. and he'll do it until you cum all over him he doesn't care how long it takes.

sometimes he milks multiple orgasms out of you this way. it practically melts your brain with how he touches every single sweet little spot inside of you without ever thrusting — just that godforsaken grinding.

you don't know what to do with yourself. he's so deep. you're so wet. it's messy and loud. you scramble to hold whatever part of him you can; scratch his back, tug his hair, slap the bed beneath you. doesn't matter because you won't be getting out from under him or getting a chance to breathe until you cum.

and god, he's so deep. he's so fucking deep!

you're creaming all over him, the base of his cock covered in a thick, milky ring that just about drives him over the edge with you when you squeeze around him like a perfect little vice.

he's whispering praise and sweet little compliments about how lovely you look cumming and how good you make him feel.

it's almost crazy how selfless he is with making you feel good. he doesn't even care if you're too fucked out and tired to do anymore. doesn't even care to get off himself. all he thinks about all day is grinding into you until you gush a sweet little mess all over him without him even breaking a sweat.

ur so sweet and pliant for him and he loves it. loves u!!! adores u!!!

will go to sleep happily with a hard cock as long as u are satisfied.

but if u tell him what you want is for him to fill u up nice and full...well....he'll do anything to please his baby!!! <3

[phantomrose96]

Season 3 Elias is so goddamn fucking funny to me I forgot what a rollercoaster he was during my first listen.

Like the s2 finale has Jurgen Leitner giving Jon the whole "monsters are real speech" and Jon's like "I need a cigarette. NO ONE get brutal pipe murdered while I'm gone" and Jurgen fails step 1 because Elias walks in and grabs Jon's point-and-click-adventure pipe he'd been carrying around and Brutal Pipe Murders. Which, of course, Jon walks back in on and is prime suspect #1 due to literally every single feature trait and word he's said in the entirety of s2.

So naturally s3 starts with Jon on the lam and Officer Tonner like "I'm gonna arrest him for brutal pipe murder" and I'M like "Shit. I hate this. Elias is going to SO easily pin it on Jon and get away with it."

EXCEPT Elias walks in and is like "hello Ms. Officer no Jon Archivist did not kill that man, also I won't tell you anything else, also this is what you sound like" while reciting all her childhood trauma and all her illegal activity that will get HER sent to jail for brutal murder of the non-pipe variety and now I'm like "....huh." He's also like "Jon didn't do it but you can kill him if you want maybe :)" Elias your alibi????

And then we come BACK with Jon storming Elias's office with his two lesbian bodyguards as back up and he's like "I'm gonna use my powers to make you confess to pipe murder!" At which point Elias is like "It doesn't work on me. But I'm having fun so Martin go get everyone I need to tell you all how I committed pipe murder." and Martin does and Elias is like "Yes I pipe murdered. I also killed Gertrude. I love murder. You will not be compensated extra for this time. Get back to work." And they... DO... just go back to work. Because work is haunted. One of the lesbian police officers works here now, too. This just happened. "Also living dolls from Russia are about to Apocalypse the world, Jon go stop it," Elias says, while also saying "no I'm not gonna tell you how to stop it."

Okay???? Mr. Elias man??? And you're like "maybe he's a ruthless tactician? Maybe he's brutal but it's all in the interest of stopping the doll apocalypse??? He wants to save the earth???" Except THAT'S not even true it's actually more like he's trying to get the Russian dolls kicked out of line at Disney World so HE gets to meet Mickey Mouse first by which I mean, start his OWN Apocalypse, because if the dolls do it first well then what's the point of apocalypsing a planet that's become someone else's sloppy seconds.

Anyway Elias's master strategy here is to bring the human equivalent of a drowned cat to the gun fight and just sit back and watch Jon fall down every set of stairs he finds while Elias goes "This is good. This will work." His name isn't even fucking Elias.