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gay-dorito-dust · 2 months

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Could I request Welt, Dan Heng, Sunday, Gepard, and Argenti finding their s/o's poetry collection of them?

Argenti:

Would sit himself down somewhere nearby and read every last poem, each one leaving him with a full heart, butterflies in his stomach and another addition to the list of reasons why he adored your creative soul.

He’s extremely honoured that you decided to chose him as your muse for your poems, for he could feel the love and respect you have for him through your writing, before holding the collections of poetry made in his name against his chest as he beamed with happiness.

He’d even openly praise you for your works if he were to see you later on in the day, which would make you understandably upset and embarrassed that he went through your things, but with the way that he passionately talked about your writing and the look upon his face that clearly shown his appreciation and admiration for poetry.

At the end you’re the one who ends up being flustered whilst Argenti was still sending appraisal after appraisal your way, all the while re-reading your works and proudly reciting his favourite passages without shame.

Sunday:

He thought it was sweet that you write poetry about him.

He didn’t feel as though he was invading your privacy at all, seeing as how he’d like to claim that whatever of yours was now also his by osmosis…totally not because he’s fishing for stuff to hold over you and maintain control should you act out…

Anyway- he’s taking his sweet time reading each and every poem you’ve written with him in mind and smiling at the hold he’s taken within your heart, finding it fascinating what adoration could make one do just to express their whole array of emotions.

It was almost as though they were on some timer that others couldn’t see just to express all their innermost feelings towards the special person in their life. Then again love tended to make people feel as though they were invincible, so the unthinkable and accomplish things that they never thought that they were capable of achieving in the first place.

So it didn’t matter whether or not you were able to wax poetry before him, but it was obvious to Sunday that the moment he had taken hold of your life and your every thought, poetry has became your primary outlet for feelings that you weren’t nearly brave enough to say aloud to him. Rest assured however for that day will come for you to open up about those unspoken feelings of yours…sooner or later.

Gepard:

He feels as though he was invading your privacy by reading your poetry collection and wanted to leave before he’d inevitably get caught, but just as he was about to take his leave, he stopped when the title of the first poem caught his eye;

Everlasting winter

He found himself reading through the first few opening sentences and immeditly made connections between himself and the person within your poem. To say it didn’t take long for Gepard to realises that the similarities between him and the person in your poem were purely intentional, and that he was the one the poem was actual about.

His face was blossoming red upon the realisation and averted his eyes elsewhere as he takes in the fact that you found him a perfect enough muse for your poetry. Him, the man who couldn’t hold a tune to save his life, grows flowers that unfortunately don’t last long, and wasn’t possessed with the basic skills of drawing.

And yet you found something about him that was worth writing poem after poem about. He didn’t know why that was but he was appreciative that you found something in him that urged you into written it down on paper, where your affection and admiration for him would be forever immortalised…He also may or may not have taken a poem to read to himself later on at night.

Dan heng:

He had noticed that you left a piece of paper laying about one day and was about to call out to you and give it back, while scolding you for leaving your messes everywhere for him to pick up after, only to see that it was in fact a poem about him.

Red faced, Dan Heng still planned on taking the poem back to you and journeyed to your room where he found that the door was left ajar, but could immeditly tell that your room was empty. Sighing, Dan Heng opened the door and quickly made his way towards your desk, where’d he found more poems in regards to him.

Much like Gepard, Dan Heng felt as though he was reading something he shouldn’t but he found himself unable to look away as he was secretly tempted to know how you viewed him. What he found was nothing short of you portraying him in a way that he’s never quite thought of himself before. If he wasn’t already so easily made flustered by your words alone, your writing was enough to put the poor man into a catatonic state.

Dan Heng wasn’t use to being smothered in a love like yours. Where you felt as though speaking your love for him wasn’t nearly enough, so you had to expand and start writing it instead in the form of poetry. He doesn’t feel as though he’s deserving of it but isn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth and is more then willing to try to accept the fact that you care deeply for him; especially when he can not find it within him to find anything about him remotely worth being with.

Welt:

He’s made copious amounts of drawings of you that he’s kept hidden in his room. So upon coming across your poetry collection about him, it only made him feel more comfortable knowing that he wasn’t the only one to express his innermost feelings through an art form.

Besides it wasn’t like he was actively searching your room for your poetry collection, he really wasn’t as he just came across them out of pure coincidence. He was currently about four poetries deep and was finding it extremely endearing how you viewed him in most of your writing: which was mainly as an well educated, wise man with a young man’s heart and restlessness sense for adventure, who had a talent for drawing.

Welt would chuckle under his breath at all the moments you’ve shared together, before you’d then went on to write about how beautiful he was in every possible way. From his sweet, insightful eyes that seemingly held all the knowledge you could ever ask for, to his calming, velvety voice that could lull you into a deep sleep within seconds.

You posed him as this figure of comfort, a figure of warmth and Welt soon finding himself not so subtly sneaking some of your poetry into his pocket to read for later. Your poetry only gives Welt the confidence he been looking for, as he would then starts to leave his drawings of you in places where you’d be able to see them; all in hopes that you would know that you had just as much of a huge place in his heart as he did in yours.

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clonerightsagenda · 2 months

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May I ask what the 'no sex in space' rant is? Zero G sounds like fun :<

The space sex rant is my passion. Possibly because I have no emotional investment in the act so when it gets broken down into weird biology and mechanics by the cruel forces of physics, I find it kind of fascinating.

Sticking this below the cut because it will get long. My primary source is Packing for Mars by Mary Roach, but A City on Mars gets into the same issues. Yes, at least two books have entire chapters devoted to the space sex problem.

Note that this is all assuming microgravity. Many of the problems go away if you have artificial gravity, which we haven't cracked yet beyond building centrifuges. Your Star Trek fanfics are safe. So without further ado, and in no particular order, reasons why you probably shouldn't have sex in zero gravity and it probably wouldn't be that fun if you did:

The infamous 'no boners in space'. Since we're evolved to live in gravity, our bodies compensate for it by putting more effort into getting fluids above our heart. In microgravity, that's unnecessary, so you end up with fluid shift - more fluids, including blood, in the upper body. Your total blood volume also goes down. This would make an erection more difficult, and in fact most astronauts interviewed for whom this would be relevant claimed they didn't get any. The outlier here is Mike Mullane, but having read his memoir, he is the kind of guy who would lie about that. Now, as I touched on while despairingly liveblogging Barrayar, that does not prevent you from having a good time. However less blood flow would presumably mean less sensation in general for anyone below the belt. Or if you stimulated too much blood flow, with the lower total blood volume, perhaps that 'got dizzy because I got horny' joke will actually come true.

In microgravity, body heat and CO2 don't disperse the same way they do in regular atmosphere. Astronauts have to make sure they sleep in well-ventilated areas and are also trained on symptoms of CO2 poisoning. If multiple people are in an area exerting themselves, that buildup will happen faster and would need to be taken into account. It would be super embarrassing to suffocate crammed into a closet for some hanky panky.

The laws of motion are not your friend here. I've seen videos of astronauts pushing themselves across the room with a strand of hair. If you're trying to hold onto someone, you'd either want a relatively small space (maybe not a great idea, see point 2) or hold on really well. One astronaut Mary Roach interviewed suggested duct tape. Perhaps fuzzy handcuffs are critical here. Still you're going to need to put a lot of thought into every move you make.

Space is gross. :( Right now astronauts just wipe themselves down with clothes and dry shampoo. "Skin flakes" is a serious problem. Also we're still not entirely sure why, but astronauts develop awful body odor. According to Mary Roach again, while armpits are famous as a BO source, apparently the crotch is as well, it's just that those regions are typically further from our nose. So idk if anyone's going to want to get that close and personal with anyone else while they're up there. Then again I'm sure people have hooked up in grosser situations.

I'm probably forgetting some tidbits since I just woke up, but in summary, zero gravity sex would need to be carefully choreographed, require some equipment (fan, fasteners), and probably wouldn't even be as enjoyable as its Earthnorm counterpart. It's a good thing that's not what anyone's up there for.

#terrible space facts #does this count as nsfw? idk #talking about sex in a mostly clinical fashion

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ddarker-dreams · 4 months

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mini love report — gojo satoru

relationship health diagnosis — 70%*

symptom one — permanent honeymoon phase

he's obsessed with you an (ab)normal amount and makes it everyone else's problem. satoru loves seeing how many compliments he can get in before you're swatting him away from embarrassment. he'll capture your wrist, smother your pulse in kisses, then continue his praise. it's not always suave either. he alternates between having decent game and coming off as cringe. you have no idea how he says half the things he does.

satoru gushes about you to everyone. poor ijichi, mortified higher-ups, the elderly lady sitting next to him on the train; no one is safe. his chest swells with pride every time he remembers that he managed to pull you. it doesn't matter if you're teenagers sharing your awkward first kiss or if you've been married for decades, he'll be singing your praises until the end of time.

symptom two — weirdly possessive

satoru isn't possessive in the traditional sense. when others encroach on you, what troubles him runs deeper than simple jealousy. his smile becomes strained and he physically inserts himself between you and the offending party. you're then whisked away, regardless of how rude the abrupt departure comes off. this isn't limited to instances where you're being flirted with outright.

it's actually amplified when the other person holds some unique position in your life that's exclusive to them. satoru prides himself on the fact no one knows you better than he does. so it's disconcerting when another person has access to information and memories entirely detached from him. he's overwhelmed with the urge to prove you belong to each other — no one can come close to the bond you share. this acrimony lingers even after the interaction ends.

gojo satoru is a greedy man. he might not be the type to insist you cover up if your outfit is revealing, but he does experience this antipathy toward people who fulfill a niche he can't.

symptom three — obnoxious

you deserve a reward for putting up with him honestly. he wasn't wrong when he described himself as having a terrible personality. while it's rarely malicious, he isn't the most considerate person when it comes to others. he'll speak what's on his mind without a second thought. zero filter. if you're around, he's a stunning 10% nicer so you'll chew him out less. the number could be higher but he finds that disciplinary side of you hot. this is a direct admission from him.

he likes your attention and will pursue it relentlessly. as he grows up, he slightly improves this habit. or, to be more specific, he hides it better. he feels he's way more interesting than whatever book or video game you're playing. shooing him off so you can get stuff done is a commonplace occurrence. on the upside, when trudging through chores, he helps with the passion of a thousand suns if it means having you all to himself sooner.

primary area of concern

satoru's seemingly infinite (heh) supply of pep often doubles as a shield to deflect uncomfortable emotions. he isn't one to linger on negative events, the pace in which he seemingly moves on is concerning. the innerworkings of his mind are shrouded in mystery for such an open individual. getting him to open up about his fears or past hurts is almost impossible. he won't dodge your inquiries outright, that'd prove too suspicious. he'll throw a few crumbs your way and hope that's enough to satiate your worry.

the word vulnerability isn't in his vocabulary. this isn't owed to a lack of trust on his part — if anything, the care he holds for you makes it tempting at times. however, taking that first step toward opening up is daunting. you'll have to be patient with him. if it doesn't pertain to your relationship, it's unlikely he'll have an extensive heart-to-heart about the specters haunting his mind. rather, those aforementioned crumbs become more substantial. a late-night conversation will unexpectedly veer toward a sensitive subject.

it'll be fleeting. you don't have to shower him with platitudes, simply grab his hand and squeeze. it's an unspoken message that he isn't as alone as he sometimes feels.

prognosis

gojo satoru can be too blunt, he struggles with emotional intimacy, and he's shameless in getting what he wants from you. he's a mess but he's your mess. you don't revere him like a god among men, you make him feel human. you're his best friend, his soulmate (he keeps the latter description to himself, it's one of the few sentiments that embarrasses him). he'd do absolutely anything for your sake. when you enter the room, it's like everyone else ceases to exist. he brightens up and chases after any laugh, smile, or flustered expression he can get.

he believes meeting you altered the balance of the world more than his own birth.

*the universe has tried (and failed) to wrench you apart (0-20) your friends are praying that you'll break up (21-40) 'well it could/has be worse' bargaining mindset (41-60) a lil messiness as a treat (61-80) pure and wholesome (81-10)

#i wrote this with golden girl in mind but it isn't exclusive to the story .#gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader #gojo brainrot #mini love reports #valentines 2024 event

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eveningepiphany · 1 year

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lessons | H.S

my masterlist <3

summary: sitting on harrys couch, he gets it out of you that you have never intimately touched someone else, and he offers straight up for you to learn off him.

warnings: SMUT, m receiving handjob and blowjob, heaps of dirty talk and praise, gentle dom! harry, virgin! y/n

a/n: I have to be up early in the morning so I haven’t done a final proofread since it’s nearly midnight, so sorry for any mistakes. this trope with h makes me weak at the knees 😵‍💫

———

“No way…” His tone is hard to dissect, it’s filled with emotions.

You purse your lips, looking to the grey of his couch beneath you— immediately regretting admitting the truth to him.

He’s your best friend, but god you do not venture into territory like this. Hence his shock, and disbelief at the admission that had come out of your mouth.

You were close next to his side while chatting that evening, a romantic comedy playing unnoticed in the background.

He joked briefly about himself, something about his… size. You hardly recall what he’d exactly said about it, other than him remarking about how ‘large’ he is.

Your eyes widened at the words, and he smiled a bit at the reaction.

It’s rare he gets to see you flustered, and if an opportunity has presented itself he can’t help but use it.

“What? Does that rile you up a bit?” He’d smirked, green eyes trying to find yours.

“No!” You’d hissed, glancing at the TV.

“Why’d you go all shy then?”

“Because you’re talking about your dick, and I don’t wanna know!”

He laughed at your rushed response, “anyone would’ve thought you’d never seen one in your life.”

Your response is delayed, in all truth you had— briefly, an unwanted showing at a college party, one of your ‘friends’ drunkenly trying to get in your pants. He’d pretty much flashed you before you got the fuck out of there. So how much it counts, is more the part you were hardly sure about.

“Of course I have.” You’d said, trying with your all to sound convincing— like as if you’d done more than just see one.

But the energy had shifted the second you’d paused, and the words pouring out your mouth were not helping your case.

“Wait— have you not actually seen a dick bef—“ his brows were furrowed, lips quirked, still unsure how serious you were until you cut him off.

“God, no— yes— shut up!“ you’d cupped your hands over your eyes, wishing to go back and just laugh at his stupid joke instead of getting all flustered and ending up here.

“You haven’t?” He pushed a more little.

A sigh had pushed out your nose in defeat, “hardly.”

So now it leaves you here, staring anywhere but at him as he mutters a ‘no way’ to you.

You felt more than embarrassed, you were mortified at this point. You and Harry had been friends since your first year of primary school, so to have him find out something you have kept to yourself for so long and was so personal was terrifying.

Having never really covered this topic with you, he was undeniably curious, “so you’ve never touched one…?”

“You’re making this so much worse.” You scrunch your eyes closed.

“Ok… so that’s a no.” He laughs a little, and all you could do was nod. He nudges you with his shoulder. “Hey, yknow it’s ok right? M’not judging you or anythin’”

You take a careful glance to see his expression, it’s sincere and you take in a careful breath.

“I know. It’s embarrassing though.” You advert your gaze back to a thread on the soft fabric of your sweatpants.

“S’not embarrassing love, I was just surprised. You’re a gorgeous girl— y’know I think that— so I just assumed some guy was lucky enough to have been with you— intimately that is.” He says casually, then adding, “and y’ve had a few guys, so I just thought…”

Your stomach fluttered at his compliments, even though he never shied away from giving them to you.

“Those relationships never lasted long enough for us to, uh, get to that point.” You clarified, clearing your throat.

“I don’t wan’ you to feel uncomfortable, or like I forced you into talkin’ ‘bout it by the way.” He quickly clarifies, “jus’ was curious, is all.”

You find the courage to lock eyes with him again, “i wish I wasn’t so… inexperienced— I really do. But it’s beyond the point of awkward when people find out, you know?”

You were on a rant now, he’d officially opened the door to all your thoughts, “and now it’s like, I have no real way to learn. Unless I go out and hookup with a random, but I’m not desperate enough for that yet— nor comfortable with the idea.”

“And being a uh, a virgin this late in college is— not really common. So automatically people kind of get weird about it.”

He wished he could say the hardening of his cock was just from the fact they were talking about sex— and that he had been sticking to his hand for a while now— but he knew that the real reason was much more related to you, which he felt almost guilty about. You sitting here opening up and all his prick can think about is how gentle and unsure your hands would be around him.

Keyword being almost.

“Y’know you can always touch me… right?” The words spilled from his mouth before he could stop them, a vague innuendo laying between each syllable.

“I- pardon?” You stuttered, uncertain if he meant what he just said in the way your brain had processed it.

“Like, if you ever want to learn or do anything. I’m here.”

Your eyes fell to his groin without a thought behind it, and you could see he was perked up in his sweats. He watched immediately as your gaze travelled down there.

“Just an offer. Don’t have t’take up on it now— or ever if y’don’t wan—“

In the few seconds of him talking you’d got a rush of confidence to do this. He’s practically handing himself to you on a silver plater.

“Can I?” The words were a fast question, a lingering hope behind them.

He almost groaned at them, the fact you were comfortable enough to be seemingly following through with his offer.

“‘Course you can, darling.”

You shuffled a little next to him, reaching to brush your hand over the fabric covering his groin, watching as he lifted his hips so you could pull his pants down.

You did it carefully, and your lips parted with a little gasp as his cock slipped out— he wasn’t wearing any underwear.

The tip of him was flushed to the same colour of his lips, and he wasn’t kidding about his size. At the base he had neatly trimmed hairs with a tiny curl to them.

You glanced back up at him, unsure what to do now. You almost had whiplash, because a minute ago you have never thought you’d see— let alone be able to touch his cock— and now you seem to have freedom to do whatever you please with it.

“S’alright darling, touch me however you want.” He reassured you, pressing his shoulder into you again. Solidifying the fact you really could do whatever you wanted with him.

Your hand hesitated a bit as you reached out to run a gentle finger on the underside of him.

Your hands were so fucking soft, softer than he even imagined, so he knew already this was going to kill him.

Going off the only kind of sexual experience you had— which is obviously with yourself— you didn’t want to be too gentle, so you wrapped your hand around the base of him and gave an experimental pump of his cock.

He groaned at the contact, not expecting it in the slightest. You were surprised at the sound that you’d just elicited from him, and the way he jutted his hips up to your touch.

“Fuck, sorry.” He carefully apologised, not wanting to scare you off. You were anything but scared though, more so fascinated, and frankly a bit turned on.

You said nothing as you continued to touch him, trailing your fingers up to the head of him. A small drop of precum seeping out.

He looks at you intently as you stare, “taste it, if y’want, love.”

With his prompt, you swipe your thumb gingerly across his tip, gathering up the few beads and lifting it to your lips.

It was a small portion, but he watched to see your micro-expressions at the taste. It was nice—really nice, in all honesty— compared to what you expected.

It was easy to see on your face you wanted more.

“Can I, uhm…” you paused, trying to figure out a way to word it, “taste you…?”

He pinched his eyes closed, running a hand through his now unruly hair. It was hard to control himself, he just wanted to pin you down and please you himself— thank you for making him feel so good already. Wrap his mouth around your probably puffy clit and make you come before he showed you what it feels like to be fucked.

Obviously he couldn’t do that. And not that he wanted to act like you were a delicate flower, but he was trying to keep you feeling comfortable— and that everything could progress at your pace.

“Jesus, love. ‘Course y’can.” He groaned, struggling to peel open his eyes.

“Can you tell me how you… how you like it? Show me even?” You ask, gently.

He shifts his hips, “Anything you give me I will like. But I can kind of direct you, tell you what feels good, I guess? If I can form a coherent thought with y’mouth ‘round me.”

You nod slowly, feeling the wetness gather between your thighs at his praise.

Deciding it would be easier, you slip off the couch onto your knees, placing yourself between his legs. You felt intimidated a little, the sight of his pulsing cock this close infront of you.

Yet still, you were salivating over it. Grateful you had a secure enough relationship to be able to do this. Especially with someone you felt so much for.

You glanced up at him, watching as he tracked your every move. He could’ve moaned aloud at your soft eyes looking up at him like that.

Your hand runs up his leg, resting to bracket the side of his thigh as you lean forward, gently kissing his tip.

A puff of air sounded from his lungs, egging you on just enough to keep going. You swept your tongue over the same spot you kissed, but trailing it down along his shaft.

You felt a little clueless as to what you were doing, in all honesty. So you glanced up, looking for a prompt on what to do next.

You wished it would just come to you naturally. Obviously in all the porn, they took the cock all the way down their throat, bobbing their heads and sucking like it was on their life. But you had no idea what your limits were, and how realistic half that shit is anyway.

“Sorry…” you muttered looking away, feeling your face flush with a tinge of embarrassment.

“God, Y/N. Don’t apologise, doing well for me baby. Just take me into your mouth, if you can.”

“Ok, I just want to make you feel good. So please tell me if I do something that has the opposite effect.” You sigh.

“I will, even though I highly doubt I’ll need too. Y’have such a nice mouth. Never knew it’d feel so good wrapped ‘round my cock.” He says this while cupping your cheek, and a part of you wants to just bend over and let him take you right there on the floor.

You never knew it could be like this. So open and filled with reassurance.

You lowered your lovely warm mouth back over him, sliding his tip past your lips, flattening your tongue on the underside of his smooth head.

“Fuck, so warm.” He whispers before continuing, “try and suck on me, hollow out those pretty little cheeks.”

You slide further down before you do, filling up your mouth with him, “don’t take more than you can handle sweet girl, use your hand for the rest.”

You nod around him when he says that, merely to show your taking his advice, but he groans loudly as you do.

So you do as he asks, wrapping your hand around what’s left of him and begin to suck.

He’s immediately lost in the sensation, digging warm fingers into the grey of the couch beneath him.

He can’t lie, you’re an attentive learner. You listen to the sounds he makes as you try something, like pulling your mouth all the way to the tip before gliding back down— or how you take note the way his body reacts with a shudder when you squeeze the base of his cock with your warm hand.

His directions are quickly falling away, into the back of his brain as you let your mouth explore his cock. It seems you’re fairing ok, now you’ve had proper encouragement.

You had been so in your head about making a mistake, now that you finally weren’t as worried about that, you could just focus on his body. Be intune with his reactions.

“Baby, you are so good at this.” He moans, driving his ass into the couch to keep from bucking up into your throat.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, the image of him fucking your throat comes to fruition, and he has to shove it away. Leave it as something to jerk off to later, when he starts to miss your hot mouth, which probably won’t take all that long.

“Told me y’never touched anyone like this before. Think that’s a lie, how good your little tongue is working me. Y’gonna have me coming soon.”

His words bring a flutter to your core, the way his accent is all husky from pleasure. Pleasure you’re giving him.

“Such a good girl f’me, hmm?” He asks, and you hum a yes. The vibration of it flys through his cock, constricting around his spine as he moans out.

He stares down at you, eyes glazed with pleasure. Spit is glistening around your chin, and no doubt when you pull off his cock will be coated in a thick layer of it.

“Christ, faster for me baby. Moan all around my dick.” His thoughts start to spill from his lips, and your brain lags trying to process how filthy they all are.

Not that you’re surprised he’s like this whatsoever, but to be hearing it with your own ears, and it to be directed toward you makes it a whole other ballgame.

“This mouth is mine.” He curses, and you dig your fingers into his thigh as you feel your cunt throb.

“All fuckin’ mine. Trained up just for me.” He groans, and you slip off him just enough to get a few words in.

“Yours, Harry. Please… pull my hair.” You plead, wrapping your mouth over him after a short second, quickly jumping back into the fast rhythm you’d built up.

“Fuck, not sure gonna be able to be gentle f’you if I do that, darling.” He hisses, clenching his fist, imagining your hair between it.

You whine around his cock, looking up at him, desperate for it.

At this point, you don’t care. He can be rougher. You pretty much have instilled every ounce of trust you have in him— which you had done prior to this, but especially now.

Your hand scrapes up his shirt, nails clawing at his taut abs, pleading for this.

He thinks he could almost just die, seeing your needy side quickly being unleashed per his undoing.

His resolve caves, his hand coming to nestle into the hair close to your scalp. You moan at the feeling of it merely being there, his cock pulsing on your tongue.

“More dirty than I ever could’ve thought, Y/N. Wanting me to pull your hair like this, begging. M’trying to be gentle with you— making it so hard for me.”

You suck harder, and he sticks to his word of being careful, his hand tight around your hair— but never forcing you down.

Even though you don’t think you would have minded if he did, he was clearly getting close.

“Love, shit!” His legs were shaking, and his face was flushed a gorgeous pink.

“You’re gon’ make me come.” He grunted, “Hard.”

He told you this so you could pull off, maybe finish him with your hand or something. But you didn’t budge, you just kept sucking and sliding your perfect tongue all over him.

He couldn’t imagine finishing this fast with anyone else but you. Your messy, virgin mouth making him nothing short of a train wreck.

“Y/N, baby, I’m— holy fucking shit—“ you squeezed his balls in you hand, and he was hurtling toward his high.

“If you don’t pull off I’m, god, god I’m gonna come down your throat.” He rushes out, whole body ready to snap.

You don’t budge, you take as much of his dick as you can, wanting to feel his warm come shoot into your mouth.

The second he realised you wanted him to finish in your mouth was the same second he felt an indescribable pleasure hit him.

His jaw dropped, and stomach muscles clenched so hard he would’ve keeled over if he was standing up.

You pulled back. Hand coming to stroke where your mouth had left. But you kept his tip in, which was still spurting his come, placed on you tongue.

It coated it, dripping down onto your bottom lip and chin. And just the sight of it would be enough to get him off for the next 5 years.

His Y/N, his best friend, who he not even 10 minutes ago found out was a virgin, had just taken his load half down her throat and half smeared all over her tongue.

“Fuck me, baby. That is so unbelievably hot.” He almost whined, completely out of breath.

“Rub it in with my cock. Then swallow it, love.” He said, watching as you immediately did so, coating your tongue with him.

“Such a good girl. Swallow.”

You did that too. Placing a little kiss on his thigh after, and standing up.

Your knees felt a little weak, and you sat down next to him again.

He reaches over, kissing you without shame of where your mouth just was.

His hand slipped to your waistband of your probably soaked-through sleep shorts, and you halted it, “You don’t have to, Harry.”

“I know love, I want too though. But if you don’t, then that’s ok.” He caresses your hip.

You take your bottom lip between your teeth, thinking. You do. But at the same time, maybe not just yet.

Despite what just unfolded on his living room couch, you still feel almost shy. Not ready.

“Maybe not yet… that was— it was a lot. And very unplanned.” You purse your lips, worried he’ll be offended or something.

“Of course, darling.” He scoots his hand away, laying it on your cheek instead.

“We’ll take it at whatever pace you want.” He smiles, kissing a quick peck onto your lips.

“How about, i turn that off,” he gestures to the TV, “‘n we go cuddle?”

“That sounds great, H. Thank you. For everything.”

He chuckles, plucking his sweatpants from the floor and slipping them over his legs, “I should be thanking you. Thank you for trusting me. And for giving me probably the best orgasm I’ve had in ages.”

You flush, harder than you’d like to admit. Maybe this won’t be a bad impulsive arrangement after all.

———

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germiyahu · 3 months

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That "racism of low expectations" point can be applied to more than Westerners patting their little Jihad Meow Meows on the head by the way. I think it also applies to American Jews, usually assimilated, acting like Israel is this Entity and not a country made up of mostly Middle Eastern Jews, people. When they do acknowledge that Israelis are people who aren't just acting in the interests of an all powerful governmental animus, they act like all Israelis are bloodthirsty frat bro soldiers wreaking havoc in Gaza because they think it's fun.

Because what is this? This tweet was in response to the chaotic backlash against Jonathan Glazer, who espoused a nearly identical sentiment. That sentiment being: Israel is using our Jewishness for some nefarious political purpose. It's not fair! We didn't sign off on GENOCIDE! How dare they use us to do this!

Israeli Jews are seen too unenlightened, too religious, too much of an embarrassment, to much of Diaspora Jewry. And yet at the same time their Jewishness is not even considered to be part of the political calculus of Israel at all? These not in my name types truly think Israel is a shadowy cabal of like 20 old white men (ironic) getting off on destroying lives and using as shields these poor innocent Americans and Brits, famously two peoples who've never twisted or corrupted the legacy of the Holocaust before.

They obviously have very hurt feelings that Israeli Jews dare to be Jews, to invoke their own Jewishness, Jewish values, to justify military action. They're not even really doing that? They want the hostages back. That is the primary concern if you poll Israeli citizens right now. And that's been the case pretty much every day since the pogrom. That's it. That's why they're saying Never Again. If that offends you as a Jewish person really let that steep. Really sit with your emotional reaction to Jews having a trauma reaction to traumatizing events and relating other events of Jewish trauma throughout history to that event. Ask yourself if it's appropriate to insinuate that they're using their Jewishness, sorry just YOUR Jewishness apparently, to make you look bad?

Israeli politicians have invoked the Holocaust outright, as a comparison. Because clearly the country whose "white" population is mostly made up of the descendants of Holocaust refugees has no business doing that? That's an affront to your name and your values?Again, why do you think everything is about you? Why do you think everything Israel does is even in your name in the first place? Is it American Brainrot Disease again?

You think Israeli Jews are so incapable of rationality and of yearning for social justice (they just want their family members back) that you erase them from the conversation. Israeli leftists are not real and are not working with Palestinians as we speak, and certainly aren't advocating for a ceasefire more successfully than anyone on this continent! Israeli politicians who speak to their constituents and use the shared cultural language of being Jews are trying to brainwash and influence Americans, because they have no constituents. Israel is just a bunch of racist politicians and a mercenary army that's trained to kill children specifically.

Like this is getting so annoying. It's clear they wish they could just excommunicate all Israelis, because they're Bad Jews. They want to take away their Jewish card, because that's not what Real Judaism stands for! And then they get offended when non secular Jews around the world dare question their Jewish identities in response to this behavior. Which I'm not condoning for the record, but how about you practice what you preach for once?

#I know so many people on jumblr view these kinds of disavowing Diaspora Jews with sympathy #But uh... the casual pervasive dehumanization and delegitimization of half the world's Jews... nah #leftist antisemitism #jumblr

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regretevatorr · 2 months

Text

★ Pest Relationship Headcanons ★

tags: pest/reader, general relationship headcanons, sfw

★ To get with Pest, I'd take a WHOLE lot of effort for him to even begin to think of you in a romantic manner. Even starting up a friendship with him is difficult, so you better bet this is going to be quite the challenge.

★ But somehow, some way, you two lovebirds end up in a fresh, brand new, relationship together.

★ Pest will likely keep you at an arms length just as you two were in friendship. Not too close, not too far away, but still out of his personal little space. Even though he trusts you as he would a close friend of his, he doesn't trust you enough to get too close. It just makes him a tad bit uncomfortable.

★ His primary love language is quality time and his secondary is acts of service. He won't engage in physical touch or affection early on in the relationship, the most he'll do is put a hand on your shoulder and rub it gently, basically his way of getting a feel for physical affection.

★ A good while into your relationship he'll start advancing his affections. Something like pressing his cheek to yours and whispering something (you probably don't understand) in Japanese. More than likely they’re sweet nothings that he doesn’t want to say in a language you can understand. It'll embarrass him far too much to say it to your face.

★ At some point, he'll start to feel more comfortable touching you (in private, as PDA is a hard no for him) cuddling, holding hands, laying next to each other; all that romantic jazz.

★ Pest doesn't show too much emotion so don't expect him to be anything less than a little distant - he won't initiate any affection but he won't deny it either. That doesn't mean he doesn't love you though, he just shows it in very different way, unlike many other people.

★ Will kiss you if you beg him enough; but not without some teasing on his part (but when he does he'll have to be extra careful not to scratch you with the sharp ridges of his mandibles)

★ Gets you (very much stolen) gifts he thinks you'll like. If it's small enough he'll just sneak it into your pocket with a sticky note attached to it and if it can't fit he'll just throw it at you and scitter away. He doesn't know how to approach you in gift-giving situations.

★ If anybody insults you in his presence or harasses you expect Pest to take action. He is not afraid to throw a punch if they continue bothering you. He's not the kind of person to let people have their way with you, no sir!

★ Doesn't outwardly show a lot of possessive behavior, but when he's jealous and feels as if the other person is challenging him, he will, without a doubt, hiss at them and give them a sharp glare in the form of narrowing eyes in hopes the person would get the message and scram. He doesn't want his or your time being wasted by some nobody.

★ He listens to every word you say; that includes any details about your day, yourself, or others. Pest may seem careless, but he is very attentive, especially when you are the one speaking. Somebody annoyed you today? He'll have a word with them. So (Insert food item) are/is your favorite food? He'll definitely keep that in mind next time he's in the kitchen. You had a terrible day? He knows just what will help. Any detail, minor or major, is running through his head as soon as you say the word.

★ Conclusion: Pest my beloved.

#₊˚ෆ ׂ regretevator writings #pest x reader #partyguest x reader #regretevator x reader

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harlowcomehome · 5 months

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Love somebody like you:

Gif by @harlowgifs

⚠️: Intoxication.

Jack hadn’t responded to your texts in a few days, which was abnormal considering the two of you had been inseparable the last few months.

You had only worked with Chris and Neelam for a few months when Jack's entire world imploded, and he needed an unbiased point of view.

He gravitated towards you immediately, the two of you spending massive amounts of time together.

It was purely platonic, at least on Jack's end. He had been going through an emotional and rocky divorce and you had been his shoulder to cry on both metaphorically and physically.

You knew it was wrong to be attached to him, especially at a time when he was so vulnerable but you’d take whatever attention he was willing to give you.

You were starting to worry, especially when you showed up to the office and realized that nobody had heard from him all weekend.

He always checked in especially when it came to work-related commitments, which was something he rarely if ever put on the back burner.

“Maggie said he isn’t even answering her calls” Neelam sighed, looking to Chris for suggestions.

“We know he’s alive because he’s been using his credit cards” You chimed in, it was your job to organize and control his finances.

“I think you should stop by his place” Chris turned to you, Neelam nodding in agreement. The two of them thought you were good for Jack, knowing he didn’t confide in a lot of people and realizing how quickly he seemed to trust you.

“Me? Why me?”

“You’re basically his best friend” Neelam shrugged as she shuffled through some legal documents for the umpteenth time.

You hated that strings of words “best friend” when it came to Jack. What did that even mean? You might be HIS best friend but he was more than that to you.

You left the office immediately trying his phone for the third time today, and getting his voicemail box, making the pit of your stomach ache.

“Come on, Jack” you sucked your teeth before ordering an Uber to his place, the drive wasn’t far from the office.

You had wondered what was going on with him, the last time you saw one another he had been seemingly doing better.

When you got to his apartment building, you could hear music blaring from inside his place.

His neighbor Janet was just arriving home, dressed in her white doctor coat. She eyed you up and down before recognizing you, and giving you a soft smile.

“He’s been like that for a few days now.”

You thanked her for the information before pushing your way inside, unlocking his door with the emergency key he had given you a few weeks back.

His house was in shambles, cereal bowls and pizza boxes everywhere. You could tell he had company and likely a lot of it, he was snoring on the couch, in a tank top that was stained, likely with pizza sauce and mucus from all his tears.

Your heart broke, knowing this wasn’t like him at all. You cleaned up as best as you could without making much noise, finally shutting off his music that was far too loud in the first place before you walked over to him.

You gently shook him, startling him awake as he instinctively wiped the drool from his face.

“Y/N? What’re you doing here?” He sat up quickly on the couch, covering his mouth with his hand.

“What’re you doing?” You laughed at his wide eyes and startled facial expression, his mind barely realizing how you could’ve got inside.

“I can’t remember the last time I brushed my teeth.” He was embarrassed to admit it, realizing now that his entire place was in shambles. His curls were matted and greasy and he had a stench of body odor and booze radiating off of him.

“Go take a shower and then we’ll talk?” You had this calming aura about you that he found magnetic, meaning he was happy to agree.

He got up and went to his primary bedroom to take a shower while you filled trash bags up with empty food containers.

When he finally emerged from the bedroom he was in clean clothes and had enough cologne on to wilt a small garden. He was embarrassed at the state you found him in, hoping you’d forget it soon enough.

“You didn’t have to help me. I would’ve done it” he scratched the back of his neck as he realized the three giant trash bags full of trash.

“Respectfully? Shut up” you giggled, making him loosen up too as he matched your energy with a chuckle.

He nervously tied the trash bags shut, knowing what your follow-up question would be. The two of you had agreed on a phrase, letting you know if he had interacted with his ex-wife recently.

“Did you relapse?” You avoided his eye contact knowing his emotional icy eyes would affect you.

“No, I mean- sort of” he felt a wave of guilt wash over him. Truthfully he knew how you felt about him, he knew that you were falling for him but he also knew he wasn’t in the position to be in a committed relationship and he selfishly didn’t want to lose your companionship.

Your breathing changed, you knew you'd have to bite back tears as he explained the last few days in detail. You turned to face him, faking a smile.

“Lay it on me.” You poured yourself a glass of wine, following him to the couch that desperately needed to be febreezed.

“Can you pour me one too?” Jack asked noticing you had only pulled one glass out of the cabinet.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea” you mumbled and he silently agreed before taking a seat on the couch.

Jack went into detail about how his ex-wife showed up Friday evening and spoke about how she and him spent that night christening every room in his new apartment.

You winced knowing just how awful she had been to him the last few months. He had cried on your lap too many times, and you were frustrated that he entertained her yet again.

You tried not to outright show your disapproval, but he felt it anyway.

“I know, I know” he sighed, sitting back on the couch. “But that’s completely done now” he reassured you, reaching for your knee and giving it a light squeeze.

“Didn’t you move here so she didn’t have your address?” You downed the rest of the wine in your glass, knowing you were likely leaving sooner than expected.

“What are you? My mother?” He laughed, partly joking but with a slight tone of annoyance.

“No but speaking of she’s been worried sick about you.”

He rolled his eyes, scoffing at how this conversation had taken a turn. His family was always a touchy subject.

“Tell her I’m alive, I really don’t want to talk to anyone right now.” He yawned, something about his demeanor changed and you could tell he was irritated with you.

“Is that why you’ve been ignoring everyone’s calls?” You’d admit that it came out a little more hot-tempered than you initially wanted it to.

“Well I mean- on Saturday we just went right back to hating one another so I threw a party here and I’ve been tired. What does it even matter?” he was defensive.

“A party?”

“I had to get over her somehow” he shrugged, pushing your buttons purposefully now.

You felt the feelings of intense jealousy creeping up on you. You channeled it into disapproval, standing up and handing him his dead cell phone that was on his messy glass coffee table.

“You might want to charge that” you bitterly replied, looking for your purse that you had set aside as you walked in.

“Are you mad that it was her? Or mad that it isn’t you?” Jack staggered to his feet, swaying a bit.

You were frozen, wondering if you had heard him correctly. You swiftly turned to him, tracing his facial expressions with your eyes.

“Did you think I didn’t know?” He chuckled, and you realized he had to still be pumped with liquid courage from the night before, this wasn’t like him.

“Shut up. You’re being an asshole” your voice trembled, tears fighting to escape you.

“It’s not my fault you’re in love with me” he shrugged, a smirk spread across his face.

“I’m not in love with you. Why would I be in love with someone like you?” You finally found your purse and stood by the door getting ready to leave.

He was taken aback by that comment, his ego bruised from his fresh divorce.

“I- I mean. Are you not?”

“I’d never love someone like you” you lied. You lied with everything you had, knowing you had to be convincing as you slammed the door shut to his apartment and burst into tears in his hallway.

#Jack Harlow #Jack Harlow x reader #jack harlow blurb #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow imagines #Jack Harlow fanfic

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captaindibbzy · 2 years

Text

In relation to the Baymax thing, and also Turning Red, I think a lot of people have missed out on how fucking funny periods are.

Every time I turn on a comedy show I have to hear about some dudes dick. During school people drew dicks on everything. Even in family friendly shows there's hints towards inappropriate contexts. There's jokes about boys hitting puberty and their voice dropping through the floor and how teenagers are emotional wrecks and sleepy and rebellious and it's customary to make fun of teenagers.

Kids are joking about poop and piss. Adults are joking about poop and piss. Wet dreams are not off topic for boys. Inappropriate boners. Everybody smells.

There's entire episodes dedicated to cartoon characters (usually boys) turning 13 and deciding that they are an adult now and they must partake in adult things and forgo all the baby stuff they liked when they were a child (yesterday).

Now take the period. You're somewhere between 8 and 13. How much you have previously been warned about this largely depends on geography and culture.

My mum thought she was dying when she had her first period. Full blown meltdown. And then her mum was like "oh yeah that just happens." Just????? It's so stupid???? It just happens?!?!?!

The utter indignation of reaching an age where people deem it appropriate for you to learn about your own body, sometimes when the change has already started, and be told that every woman in your life from birth to now has been lying to you for a week every month. Your mother. Your aunt's. Your neighbours. Your teachers. All those women on TV. Everyone. They're all walking around with this thing and fucking nobody told you because it's inappropriate. They are bleeding out their yahoo and for some reason this is more inappropriate than poop and bogies and ear wax and piss and sometimes more inappropriate than sex. You've 100% seen blood before.

And now you are a woman! Suprise!!!! But oh no we can't let the men know. Why? Well they might be embarrassed. These are the same men that have been teasing you your whole life about being a girl and thus you must faint at the sight of blood and be weak and you can't lift and they are so much stronger. You're so delicate. Oh don't let your dad know when it's happening. It will be so awkward for him. Your brother's, who may be older than you, can't at all know! In some cultures men don't know this is happening till they are married.

"I woke up this morning and there's blood pouring out a hole I may or may not have known was even there and I feel like crap and now I'm supposed to be a woman not a child but we can't let the men fully know what's going on because they might faint or some shit from the shock and also every woman in my life has been lying to me all my life."

"Yes."

"How long does this go on?"

"Well... About 50 years."

"50 YEARS?!?!"

"And then your body goes through reverse puberty and stops functioning correctly."

Side note. Came back from summer holidays in to my last year of primary school and one girl and developed boobs over the holiday and suddenly all the boys had to get changed in a different room. It was to "get us ready" for secondary school. Except we didn't have a seporate room so boys had to get changed in the cloak room for PE.

And then, and then, you go pad shopping.

There's so many pads, so much choice, so much shit. Do you want to cram some cotton up there? Do you think you need a pad thick enough to be a nappy? There's pads specifically designed to sit on thongs. Some are long some have wings some are scented for some reason?!? Or you can get reusable ones or moon cups. And it's expensive!!! How would you like to proceed with the worst day of your life so far? How many are you going to need? Who knows! Nobody's certainly given you any indication in your entire life!

Also it affects your appetite. But you're a teenage girl and society has very strict ideas about how much is appropriate for you to eat and what you are supposed to eat.

Oh and your face breaks out in spots cause hormones are happening.

And you will get it wrong at some point and wreck your favourite cute knickers and bedding and pajamas. The fucking mortification of going to the bathroom at school and discovering your knickers are demolished. A pad will not help you now. You are miles from home. It's like shitting yourself but you have fucking less control over it.

Kids be out there singing "Uncle Billy and his ten foot willy" but if they know Sarah is on her period the world will end.

And this isn't even touching on the fact that in some cultures the reward for this is now you get to partake in the women's jobs. You are an adult now. Here is a pile of vegetables. No your brother's still get to play on the X-box. Yes they are older than you but they are boys and now you are a woman. Peel those potatoes.

This entire situation is ridiculous. Like utterly fucking hilarious how everyone is tiptoeing around this thing. I've never seen a period joke that wasn't funny.

#moon time

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ptn-imagines · 3 months

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hey hey, can i request zoya, deren and langley walking in on chief trying on their outfits :3

I usually try not to get too spicy unless it's explicitly requested, but Zoya's part of this definitely has some spice (though not explicit) so be warned of that!

Walking in on Chief trying on their outfit

Zoya

Chief Is In Trouble. In a hot way.

She doesn't knock before entering, swagger in her step as she strolls in like she owns the place. Seeing Chief wearing her clothes does stop her in place, but the look in her gaze is both playful and hungry, rather than surprised.

She spends a long moment taking in the sight before her, her clothes far too large on Chief's body. Still, she seems to like it, judging by the way she licks her lips.

She finally speaks, leaning against the doorframe as she does. “Like my clothes, do you, Chief?” she teases. “How about we get some in your size? You can hardly decide if you like it with it hanging on the floor like that.” She laughs at Chief's blushing face as they try to stammer out a reply.

It's hyperbole, of course, but it only takes a few days before she shows up with a copy of her outfit in Chief's size. She'll turn her back if Chief asks, but if given the chance, she is absolutely watching Chief put the clothes on.

Once Chief is dressed, Zoya's gaze quickly sharpens to that of a hungry predator, and her teeth suddenly seem like fangs as she grins, appraising like she's looking at her next meal.

“You look good, Chief. Big fan of how it shows off your body, even if you don't exactly have my build.”

It makes Chief blush, but it's true. Zoya does like it. Seeing Chief dressed in her clothes… It's certainly awakened the hunger inside the wolf.

Langley

Once again, Chief Is In Trouble. But it's in a different way this time.

As soon as Langley sees Chief putting on her clothes, a slow smirk spreads across her face. “Rookie, I don't recall giving you permission to touch my things… Let alone my clothes.”

Chief turns bright red, flailing for an explanation. Langley only watches, her smirk growing ever wider; she enjoys watching Chief squirm like this.

Once she's had her fill of Chief's torment, though, she gestures for them to be quiet, and they quickly silence themself. “I'm willing to forgive this transgression, rookie, if you do something for me.”

It's a trap, Chief is sure of it, but Langley's punishments are known for being brutal, so they don't want to risk the alternative. Still, they're surprised when Langley's request is to finish dressing up and sit down in their desk chair, doing their best impression of her. It doesn't make sense to them, but they comply anyway.

They realize the reason behind the strange request when Langley snaps a photo of them with her phone, and they flush red to their ears. The picture is set to Langley's background, and she teases them about how cute it would look framed on her desk – a subtle warning not to touch her things without permission again.

Deren

Deren definitely has the most lowkey reaction of the three. She stumbles across Chief looking for the very clothes they were trying on, funnily enough.

When she walks into the room, midway through a sentence, it takes her brain a couple of seconds to process what she's seeing. Once she does, though, confusion is her primary emotion rather than embarrassment. “Uh, Chief? Why are you wearing my clothes?”

She's surprised when Chief says they wanted to see how they looked in them. “Well, you'd look good in anything, but… Why my clothes? They're nothing special. I can get you a hundred different outfits that'd look better than my stuff.”

A very flustered Chief has to explain that their interest in the clothes is largely due to the fact that they are Deren's clothes. The director is taken aback at first, but then she laughs.

“Is that so? Well, sure, go ahead. I won't stop you, so long as I get a front row seat~”

Deren's gaze on the Chief is still flustering, but she's a lot less intense than the other two would have been. When Chief apologizes to her afterwards, she waves it off, saying Chief can wear her clothes anytime, she doesn't care. It's the truth, and of course, it doesn't hurt that Chief looks good in her clothes.

#ptn #path to nowhere #ptn zoya #path to nowhere zoya #zoya #ptn langley #path to nowhere langley #langley #ptn deren #path to nowhere deren #deren #ptn headcanons #path to nowhere headcanons #headcanons

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glorious-spoon · 8 days

Text

9-1-1 Season 7 Post-Mortem

Mostly because I want to put my thoughts in order. Full disclosure: I'm really not thrilled with a lot of the choices this season made, but I'm also not at the 'fuck this show I hate it now' level either. The primary, overarching issue, IMO, is that they tried to stuff a full season's worth of plot into ten episodes, and the pacing and emotional continuity suffered badly. And also there were some writing choices that were simply deranged (and hopefully would have been reworked had they not been laying down the tracks in front of the speeding train, so to speak).

(Cut for me rambling at length)

So: Bobby and Athena were largely really solidly written. The cruise ship disaster was great: campy and OTT, but in a fun way. Their marital issues and the eventual resolution felt like a natural continuation of issues they've had in the past. Bobby Begins 3.0 was a great episode other than the cartel element, which was some ill-considered racial stereotyping (I've said it before and I'll say it again: you could have had the antagonists in that episode be a bunch of angry locals threatening people for tresspassing on their property, and the whole thing would have been 100% less gross without actually changing much of the plot. Really felt like Tim was cribbing from the similar Lone Star arc, which was also lazy and racist). Amir was a fantastic character, and while I could have done without that last scene of him offering Bobby absolution, I feel like he was generally allowed to be both gracious and rightfully angry. The cop Athena stuff in the finale was... less great, but also to be expected. I would have liked much less of that and much more time spent at Bobby's bedside.

(I'm really sad about the house fire mostly because that was one of my favorite sets, but I do appreciate the poetry of the parallel, with Bobby actually managing to get his wife out this time. Though I do wonder where Harry was that night, lmao.)

Hen was similarly wonderful. I really liked getting to see her wrestle with the responsibility of being captain, and the fallout of the car accident scene. In a vacuum, I actually like Ortiz as a villain - a complicated one, with sympathetic motivations, but still ostentatiously cruel. Were it not for the fact that there are basically NO latine characters other than Eddie who aren't villains this season, it would have been great. ALAS.

Did not love the rescue dog/foster child parallel with Mara. Otherwise really loved getting to see her settle in with the Wilsons, and I'm really glad that we got to see Chim and Maddie take her in instead of leaving her at the group home by the end of the season. Really leaned into the found family element, and Chim taking care of his best friend's child in the same way that Mrs. Lee did for him.

CHIM! Chim my beloved. 'There Goes The Groom' is the one episode that I have basically no issues with at all. The hallucinatory trip through Los Angeles, wrestling with Doug's ghost, was gorgeous. Bringing back Kevin - also gorgeous. I loved that we see the Lees explicitly framed as his real family (and am spitefully glad that his bio dad was nowhere to be found. Fuck that guy.) Kenny continues to be, IMO, the best actor on this show. He killed it. We need so many more Chim-centric episodes, because they're always SO good. He can make both humor and pathos feel so natural and human. Give us more Chim!

And of course on to Buck's bisexual arc, which was... so painfully Buck, lmao. Full disclosure: I have a lot of trouble rewatching 7x04 and 7x05 because the secondhand embarrassment is just too much for me, but objectively it feels very right and in character for him. LOVED the first kiss scene, with his dawning realization of what's about to happen and his softly stunned joy afterward. His coming out scenes with both Maddie and Eddie were lovely and perfectly appropriate to both relationships. I really liked him taking the initiative to reach out to Tommy to apologize and ask for a second chance after he fucked up their first date. Loved Tommy showing up at the hospital after what was clearly a long, miserable shift.

Their date in the finale didn't really land for me mostly because of where it was placed in the episode; if they did something with the two of them after Buck spent the entire day at Bobby's bedside waiting to see if he was going to live, it would have felt a lot more natural to me to have them exhaustedly eating takeout on the couch or something instead of having a formal sit-down date with wine and place settings. Intentionally or not, that made it feel like they're still on Date Behavior with each other and despite some gestures toward emotional vulnerability, they're not quite there yet - as seen by Buck steering the conversation back to flirting and innuendo. My overall feeling on the relationship at this point is that it's cute, but I'm not seeing any real depth of feeling between them yet.

Buck and Eddie on the other hand - look, despite my many MANY issues with Eddie's plot this season, I loved how his relationship with Buck was written. I love the intimacy and familiarity of how they are together, I loved the way Eddie let himself lean on Buck, I loved how Buck is clearly positioned as an integral part of the Diaz family.

Unfortunately, that's really the only thing I loved about Eddie's plot this season. His relationship with Marisol was ultimately pointless; she was never fleshed out enough to feel like a real character, and we never even see the fallout of Eddie's cheating with regard to her; it's all Chris. The Kim stuff strained credulity, and also I never felt like he got any kind of emotional catharsis or resolution through it; he still hasn't really confronted any of his issues about Shannon, about their marriage and how it ended. That whole arc felt really wobbly in terms of tone, as well: using plot elements of a very famous psychological thriller without actually acknowledging any of the creepiness of it. I would have liked it to lean into that more especially with the scene where Kim dresses up as Shannon, an objectively creepy and unhinged thing to do.

The Diaz parents handled the Chris thing in a selfish and opportunistic way that felt both disappointing and inevitable. Hopefully that's going to be a hook for the next season and Eddie actually confronting them, but overall Eddie's plot this season really felt like they just tossed a bunch of balls up in the air and mostly failed to catch them.

Gerrard - look, I'm not that worried about Gerrard. I could have done without him, but ultimately he's going to stick around just long enough to make his inevitable defeat satisfying. At least, that's my hope.

#911 #911 meta

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avonne-writes · 27 days

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hi there. i’m very new in mota fandom but really wanted to ask you since your blog has been a primary source for me… if gale cry during sex would that turns either of them on? especially if it’s bucky who unintentionally made him cry? i am highly curious of gale’s vulnerability during sex especially when i read your bdsm hcs and it made me feel a certain type of way… a good kind. i read that he laughs in your hcs when he’s in it deep but would it be a recurring thing when one day gale sobs uncontrollably? maybe it’s the first time happening and both of them feels uncertain about what to feel? neither of them feels bad about it but ykwim? maybe it’s not even overstimulation/traumatic thing, just gale gets suddenly really tearful and bucky goes ??? and dk what to do bc if anything he gets harder than before? really want to hear your take on it!

p/s: i enjoy your fics so so much i hope you really have a good day ♡

Hi dear, thank you for this ask and welcome to the fandom! ❤️ This is an interesting question, and of course other headcanons can work too, but this is mine:

In general, I don’t think they are turned on by crying during sex. I think Gale is neutral about it but Bucky gets very concerned and he hates seeing Gale cry because he considers it a pain reaction.

But! I can imagine that if it’s not full-on sobbing, but just his eyes watering, a tear escaping from the corner, and everything else indicates he's having a good time, Bucky would enjoy it. Because it would clearly be out of pleasure/happiness. He’d kiss the salty tear on Gale’s skin and they would both smile.

The Gale from my subspace au has uncontrollable crying fits if he has a subdrop. If it happens, Bucky feels guilty, even though it’s not really a bad thing in this case. Gale releases a lot of pent-up emotions through that, and because Bucky is there to comfort him, he feels really good again after.

Bucky is enamored by the way Gale laughs when he’s in subspace and the pleasure hits him just right. The first time it happens, he talks about it with Gale afterwards and Gale feels really embarrassed, but Bucky reassures him that it's not embarrassing at all.

What do you guys think? Any other interesting headcanons? 😊

#mota #buck x bucky #clegan #gale in subspace #anon #bedroom headcanons

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wenumsmol · 1 year

Text

Eijirou Overheard

Prompt I used from @strawberrystepmom: which of ur favs hears you lamenting the fact u have to exist in this body from your closet and peeks around the corner and just says "get on the bed"

Warnings/Tags: smut, aged-up characters, vaginal sex, body worship, breath play, orgasm denial, eye contact, praise, pet names, mirror sex, sex toys, fingering, squirting, creampie, breeding, soft dom, pussy smacking, emotional sex, size difference, dry humping, self-esteem issues, comfort smut.

5k+ wc o.o

Minors Do NOT Interact, Smut under the cut.

🪨 Kirishima, Eijirou🪨

Standing in front of the mirror wearing nothing but your panties and one of Eijirou’s baggy t-shirts —which fits you more like a dress— you're scrutinizing your reflection. Feeling as unattractive as ever, you stare at the pudge of your tummy in your hands and the thickness of your thighs that had no gap. Doubt begins to flood your mind, and you struggle to fight back tears, “how could anyone love me like this?” you mutter to yourself in the walk-in-closet. Hopelessly, taking in the sight of your body, you can't help but think that Ejirou deserves someone better because you feel like you aren’t good enough for him. And the mere thought of it just makes you want to curl up in a ball and hide away from the world. “This is really the body I have to exist in? What a joke.” Squeezing your eyes shut, “There’s no way he looks at me every day and doesn’t feel grossed out. How the fuck am I supposed to live with myself?” you sputter, tears roll freely down your cheeks, and you wipe them away with your sleeve.

Eijirou is reclined against the headboard of your California king bed, in the primary bedroom, just outside. He’s mindlessly scrolling through his phone when he hears muffled whispers coming from the closet. His brow furrows as he recognizes your voice, and he can’t help but feel a pang of sadness as he listens to you berate yourself. Hearing you tear apart your appearance, and assuming that he finds you repulsive… Eijirou can’t bear the thought of you believing that.

Immediately, he gets up, disregarding his phone, which clatters to the floor. He approaches the open doorway, watching you from the outside. Listening. The distressed look on his often upbeat and bright-eyed face catches you off guard when you notice his hulking figure staring at your back in the mirror reflection, causing you to grow quiet. Eijirou’s head is cocked, and his fists are clenching and unclenching the material of his red sweatpants. Frustrated and desperate. His eyebrows are furrowed, with a deep crease growing between them, and his lips are pressed together in a line. “Y/n,” he spoke in a low voice, almost inaudible. “What on earth are you doing, baby?”

You anxiously tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, averting your eyes, trying to hide your embarrassment. You hadn't anticipated him to coming in or hearing your outbursts. You were too caught up in your own bullshit to even consider the fact that you might have been a bit loud. Eijirou’s hearing was on another level, after all. Mouth dry. Feeling the weight of the tension between you two, you try to explain the situation. You want to make it clear that you weren't in here having a pity party and feeling sorry for yourself, “um… well you know… I just—” but that would have been a lie. How do you tell him that you’re afraid to lose him because you couldn’t be at your best? That this version of you isn’t the same girl he fell in love with, and you know he’ll eventually leave you because of it? “I-I don’t know,” you stammer, your voice barely a whisper. He shakes his head, his expression softening. “I just want to understand,” he says, in a soothing tone. You take a deep breath, and you’re at a loss for words. “Eiji, I’m sorry, I don’t–-”

"C'mere, sweetie," he calls out to you, and you reluctantly take a step forward, heart beating faster with every step. He looks you in the eyes with a stern expression, in disbelief that you would think he wouldn't love you as you are, no matter how much you change. Eijirou takes your hand and draws you in as his chest tightens and his throat constricts. Hugging you close, you are enveloped in the warmth of his touch, filling the air around you with the scent of his cologne. There’s a sense of security in the embrace.

Eijirou takes your face in his hands and looks into your eyes, while his own are filled with emotion. The doubt and fear are evident in your eyes, and he wants to take it all away. Speaking softly, his voice is full of love and understanding, “please, don’t do this to yourself.” He tells you that he loves you just as you are, and he always will. Pulling you into a hug, Eijirou holds you tightly, his heart beating in time with yours. Wanting you to know that you are perfect, just the way you are, “I wouldn’t change a single fucking thing about you. You should know that by now,” he breathed into your skin. Soft lips graze the lobe of your ear, he plants a gentle kiss to your neck just below it. “What’s got you feeling this way? What can I do to make it better? Am I not praising you enough? What do you need?” The questions just kept coming, and he exhales heavily, voice trembling as he tries to reel himself back, so he doesn’t overwhelm you. Eijirou’s grasp tightens a bit as he shakes his head, feeling responsible, “I just love you, okay.”

Still wrapped up in Eijirou’s hold, he nuzzles you, continuing to trail kisses down your collarbone. “You know how gorgeous you are? Hmn?”

“Eiji, don’t–” tears prick at the corners of your eyes again. “You don’t have to lie to me. And it’s not you or anything you’re doing. I just look a mess, and I know you probably want something else. Someone else.”

He draws back, grabbing your waist with both hands as he looks down into your eyes, gaze piercing. He tenderly brushes away the tears that have started to fall, “You're so beautiful, my love. Don’t ever forget that.” He presses his forehead to yours, letting you feel the love he has for you, letting it wrap around you like a warm blanket. His hands cup your face, and he looks into your eyes, “I will never let you forget.” Eijirou takes your hand in his, pulling you with him, and leading you over to the spacious mattress. “Eiji…?”

“Get on the bed,” he calmly commands, walking away to the opposite side of the room and returning with a heavy mirror, which he sets down against the wall across from the bed. “I don’t want to hear any more of that self loathing” he says, reaching over to you, lifting you up and letting you straddle in his lap facing away from him. Eijirou gestures toward your reflection, “look at yourself, sweet pea.” He continues, “you see this beautiful face?” He lightly runs his fingers over your puffy cheeks. “It’s the first face I want to see when I wake up every morning.” Pressing a kiss to your jawline, “did you know that?” he wonders. “And these lips,” tracing the pads of his fingers over the pillow softness of them then bending your face in the direction of his,“ are the only ones I want to kiss. Ever...” he claims.

Eijirou kisses you softly and delicately, gliding his moist, adoring lips over yours. His lips caress yours while his hands cup your face, cradling you in his warmth as he explores your mouth. After a quick tug of his teeth, he deepens the kiss by sliding his tongue across the floor of your mouth, begging for entry. You part your lips at his request, and his wet muscle prods and dances with your own. You feel a spark of electricity course through your body, heart beginning to race as the exchange intensifies. Arms drawing you closer, pressing your body against his as his mouth moves hungrily against yours. You can feel the passion between you, the love and longing that radiates from him as he kisses you…

Breaking off with labored panting and a stand of spit tying you together, "Just you," he breathes, momentarily makes eye contact with you again before turning your head back to the mirror. Eijirou’s large hands snake under the thin fabric of the t-shirt and settle on your full breast, “this body.” He massages your breasts, forcing your nipples to stiffen while he showers your neck possessively with open-mouth kisses, marking your skin. Tingling sensations shoot from your chest and down to your core, and you toss your head back, whimpering at the sensation. “How could I not love you, especially when I get to see you like this?” He questions, flicking his tongue over your jaw. “Who wouldn’t be turned on—” he teases your nipple with more force— “by you?” he continued as your breath caught, and a light tremor coursed through your body.

Through the fabric of his sweatpants and your damp panties, you can feel the throb of his strong cock as one of his hands descends from your breast to grip your hip. Driving you deeper into his lap, Eijirou helps you rock your hips back and forth, dragging your sopping pussy along his erection. “Nngh, you feel that?” groans Eijirou. “Look up for me, sweet cheeks,” he whispered breathlessly, nipping your lobe. Distracted by the intensity of the situation, you continued to moan, completely consumed by the friction against your lower lips. When suddenly, a sharp smack to your clothed clit startles you out of the moment, a faint squeak leaving your mouth. You look up at Eijirou through the mirror with a bewildered expression on your face.

“I need you to pay attention, princess. I know all this feels real fuckin’ good—” he smirks, sharp teeth peeking out— “and I want you to feel good, but I also want you to understand exactly why you deserve it,” Eiji explains.

“Now—” fingertips skimming over your clit to ease the sting that left it throbbing just seconds ago— “tell me how pretty you are. I wanna hear it.”

Your brow furrows at the assumed request, “Eijirou, I don’t think—” “Shh… Shh… Look at me, sweetie. Hey–” he interrupts, turning your head to face him again. He raises his eyebrows, a hint of frustration in his voice, “you know what you're supposed to say” he said. Chuckling dryly, there was an incredulous look on his face. With a tsk, he cocked his head to the side, eyes never leaving your face. "Wanna try that again? Hmn?" he offered, his voice low and expectant. “Because I wasn’t asking.” Eijirou’s hand is firm at the base of your neck, waiting.

You respond, "Yes… Daddy," and his demeanor softens, glowing with affection as he searches your eyes for a sign of understanding and acceptance. He then slowly releases his grip, his hands trailing down your arms and up again, a gesture of reassurance and love.

“Go on,” he said, arms encircling your waist and giving you a tight squeeze with his chin resting on your shoulder. He moves his knees side to side, which makes you sway subtly like you’re dancing.

“I— umm. I’m…p-pretty.”

“Well done, baby. And what exactly about you makes you so damn pretty? Hmm?” Eiji nuzzles your cheek supportively, a grin on his face and eyes bright.

“I’ve been… taking care of my skin a lot better lately, so there’s that, I guess that counts for something. ”

"Oh, yeah. I've noticed," Eijirou admits, his voice a low rumble as he loosens his hold, hands trailing down your thighs before coming back up to rest on your hips. His fingers gently massage as they press into your skin, kneading the soft flesh as he gives another light squeeze. "You're so fuckin' soft, princess," he murmurs, his hands moving lower, coming to rest on your ass cheeks. He caresses the round spheres in circular motions feeling how silky your skins feels, with his calloused fingers, sending a rush of pleasure through you that makes you to gasp. "F-fuck," he breathes, his voice reacting with thick with desire, “so smooth and so fuckin’ soft.”

Ejirou crushes his face into the skin of your neck humming deeply, grunting and sending vibrations through you, causing you to giggle a little. You can feel his open-mouthed grin against you, the response from him causing you to smile as well. “What’s so funny, munchkin? Huh?!” He starts tickling you and you’re both laughing. Your bodies jerk around as he pokes at your sides causing an eruption of laughter. Suddenly and unexpectedly, all the squirming causes his fully hard shaft, which is right beneath your sticky folds, to brush, resulting in much-needed friction. You and Eijirou moan collectively, then his tongue is back on you. His focus shifts back to your waiting heat, and he rubs tight circles on your tiny rosebud. He hums again as his other hand grips your hip, his fingers and tongue working with precision and sending jolts of pleasure through your body.

Eijirou’s breath is hot and heavy, and you can feel his excitement and anticipation as he builds up to the inevitable, “Wait—mmm— wait, honey.” He softly pats your pussy before stilling his movements completely. Clearing his throat, he tries to regain control of himself and says, “not yet, I wanna hear more.”

You groan in frustration, “Eeijiiii… c’mon. I can’t wait, I want you,” you whine.

“You want me, baby?” he questioned, half amused, half turned-on.

“Yeeeah. Yes. Yes, Daddy, I want you,” you assert.

“Oh, you’re going all in on the begging. Trying to wear me down, huh?” He chuckles. “It’s almost working,” he licks his lips, “but not quite. We still have business to take care of.”

Folding your arms, you turn away, switching to full-on brat-mode. Eijirou just smirks in amusement, “uh uh uh, don’t start that bratty shit right now, babe. Now’s not the time,” he says vehemently as he grips the nape of your neck firmly. “I’m serious.” He looks into your eyes, his voice authoritative but soft. "I can't have you hurting yourself like you were doing earlier. That shit stops now, you understand me? Nod if you understand." And you do, your heart beating fast in anticipation. You always found it so sexy how quickly his mood can change like this. One moment Eijirou is all jokes and smiles, then the next, he’s churning your insides relentlessly, barely caring if it hurts because he promises to make it better later. Eijirou always takes care of you.

He’s smiling now as he leans over to the bedside table, retrieving the Hitachi wand. Leaning back, the wand is plugged and set to the side. Eiji spreads his legs, in turn, spreading yours along with them. His hands remain on your hips as he speaks, his voice resuming in a low whisper in your ear. “I want you to look at yourself. Not at me. Not anywhere else. Look at yourself and see how fucking breathtaking you are,” he breathed against the back of your neck, leaving small pecks here and there as he spoke. His words are like a caress, and you can feel your body responding to his touch. “I promise to make you cum when I see that you deserve it.”

You feel the waistband of your panties being pulled taut to your skin, with a snap, sounds of ripping fill the air. Now you’re sitting in his lap naked from the waist down and when he commands, “lift your arms. C’mon, up,” you comply, allowing him to slip his oversized t-shirt from your body and toss it to the side. “There we go. Look at that Goddess,” he eagerly expresses, squeezing emphasis at your waist. In a flash, he loses his shirt too, and now you’re laying back against his chest, skin to skin.

“And look at this pretty pussy,” he points out, spreading your folds with his fingers to put you on full display. Involuntarily, your tight wet hole clenches at nothing, and he hums approval at the action. “A very pretty pussy on a very pretty girl. Don’t you agree?” He strokes your hair with the other hand while eyes rake over your body, and you feel a little self-conscious, making an effort to try and close your legs which are pinned open by his own. “Aht aht, be a good girl. Keep 'em open for me,” he warns as he strokes your inner thigh to relax you. A shiver goes through you. “Good…” he says, content with your obedience.

Eijirou takes the Hitachi wand in hand. Without turning it on, he taps it on your clit, forcing a whimper out of you. Teasing. The hand stroking your hair moves to your jaw, “before we begin, I want you to know that I don't appreciate it when you insult my wife.” His breath fans over your skin from how close he is to your face. "You know... there are consequences for every choice, for every decision, for every word that comes out of your mouth" the hand on your jaw slips to your neck, giving it a strong squeeze before resting there— “for every action. Hmn?”

“Yes, Daddy.” He flips the switch to high, and a frantic cry bubbles from your lips. “Goood…” he drags.

You’ve barely been touched yet the feeling is already almost too much to handle, with the pressure in your lower abdomen quickly building. Your eyes begin to roll back, and he pulls the wand away, stifling the progression of your orgasm. “Pleeeaase, oh please! Don’t—” “Hey, now, who’s that beautiful woman I see?” he’s teases. “It’s me!” you sputter breathlessly. “I’m sorry, it’s me! Oh god, it’s me. Please!”

“Say Daddy, I’m a Goddess,” Eijirou demands, an eyebrow raised.

“Imagoddess!” you let out a little too quickly.

Another smack to your pussy, “Again. Slower this time,” he bites.

“F-fuck! Daddy, I’m a Goddes—” buzzing breaking the ending of your sentence, the switch had been flipped, sending more vibrations through you. “I need you to believe it, baby. Talk to me, princess. Quickly or I won’t let you cum” he advises matter-of-factly, massaging up and down your dripping cunt with the toy.

You eagerly nod, “Yes, Daddy. I'm your good girl. I'm your—” your breath catches for a moment, and you struggle to keep your eyes trained on the mirror— “Goddess. Please, Daddy. I need your touch. Wanna feel you,” you begged, your voice shaking desperately.

He chuckled softly, ��That's right. You’re my Goddess,” he murmured, his touch growing more insistent as he moved his hands over your body, twisting and pulling at your nipples. Eijirou leans down to take one of them into his mouth, slathering his lubricated tongue over the nub and suckling hard, releasing with a wet pop. “Keep talking, love. Daddy wants to hear it all.” He continues to smack his lips against your hard buds sloppily, saliva dripping down.

You look down at him, mouth falling open in pleasure before you say, “only you know how to make my pretty pussy feel this good Daddy–mmfuck. I feel so—” your stomach tightens— “desired... S-so loved. So wanted… when you touch– ahh— me,” you rush out the words as you feel your orgasm drawing near, determined to reach it. “I feel so beautiful a– and your touch makes me feel so ali— nnnggh” he switches to the highest speed and the coursing pleasure renders you unable to speak at this point. Unraveling in a silent scream, your eyes roll back and legs shake as your walls convulse. Creamy goodness seeping out and sliding down onto his pants, wetting them. Eijirou moans at hearing you praise yourself, at seeing you cum, at feeling your wet release. “Good job baby, fuck…mm.” His hips bucking up in excitement, “fuck... I can’t fuck you yet, baby, not yet. Not until…” He sets the wand to the side and starts massaging your pussy lips, gathering all the slick there to lube up his fingers. You grind up against him lazily, still coming down from your orgasm.

Your heart thumps wildly in your chest as you wait for him to continue, knowing that whatever he says will make you even more aroused. His other hand caresses your body, and he whispers in your ear, “Not until you beg me for it, until you tell me how much you want me inside you, until you scream my name again and again out in pleasure because once isn’t enough.” You feel your cheeks heat up and your desire growing with every word. You close your eyes and whimper, “Please Daddy, make me yours. I want you, I need you. I want to feel you inside me.”

Your body is humming as you feel him insert two fingers into your twitching hole, pushing deep and stroking steadily. “Yeah?” You can feel yourself trembling, Your breathing becomes more and more erratic, almost desperate as he adds a third finger, hoping he’s not moving too quickly but needing to prep you for his massive cock. “You want me to fuck you into a babbling mess?” he pants, knowing exactly what he's doing. You can feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge again, as he pumps his digits. His movements become more urgent, stimulating that sweet spot by curing his fingers deep inside. The sweet slapping sound of your moist cunny against his palm, echoing in the room as he works your pussy with expertise. His fingers begin to curl more as he asked, “like that, sweetpea? You like it like this?” You’re unable to answer; instead; your words have devolved into incomprehensible mumbles and moans.

“...fuck—” Eiji suppress a moan of his own, trying to force his arousal back down, so he doesn’t cum from pleasuring you.

“Mhmm,” and you can feel yourself at the edge. You can feel yourself tensing up, your body quivering as he picks up speed. Eijirou starts to swipe at your clit with a nearly lightning-fast pace, doing an ungodly combination with both hands. You can't take it any longer, and you let go, screaming his name repeatedly, your voice raw and desperate as you come undone in his arms, shaking and weeping from the sheer intensity of the experience.

“Eijirooouu! Eijiiiiii, fuuuuck…” you howl, your voice shaking as you try to catch your breath. He grunts in approval.

Eijirou presses a hard kiss to your temple, still trying his best to contain himself. His voice was a low rasp, barely audible, as he asked you, “How does my gorgeous girl feel now?” He held you securely, and you could feel the love emanating from him. His tender touches. His passionate kisses. His comments, “good girl… good fuckin’ girl,” still reverberated in your thoughts as you were entranced by his presence.

Voice still husky, “let me make love to you,” Eijirou truly requested this time.

“Of course,” was all he needed to hear before he tucked an arm under your knees. Lifting your lower body up with your back still resting against his wide muscular chest, which rose and fell in deep ragged breaths beneath you. He freed this thick veiny length from the confines of his sweats, shimmying the pants the rest of the way down his legs, and kicking them aside. Eijirou returns you to your previous position on his lap, thick, pulsing stiffness pushed up against your plush ass cheeks. Groping the softness of your thighs, he tries to regain his composure now that he’s so close to burying himself in your depths.

Eijirou's breathing is heavy and labored, the musky scent of his sweat mixing with the sweet, tangy smell of your arousal. His hands roam freely, gently exploring your curves and the contours of your body. His fingers leave trails of fire as they lightly brush against your skin, tracing circles on your hips and lower back. His cock jumps in anticipation as he shifts his hips, repositioning to align the tip of his cock and pushing it against your entrance. You moan softly and shudder as he slides in, inch by inch, stretching you out with his heavy length and girth. You feel Eijirou stretching you out, his heavy length and girth filling you up completely. His breath hisses out as you squeeze him in his efforts to fill you painlessly. He takes another deep and steady breath before he bottoms out, asking if you’re okay. You give him a weak nod and you both moan as the sensation of being filled and compressed washes over you, your walls contracting around him in welcome.

You sit there in his lap feeling so full, exchanging breaths between his mouth and yours, falling into a rhythm only the two of you could follow. Neither of you are looking in a mirror anymore, instead you stare deeply into each other's eyes, the only communication being the linking of your souls… His right hand on your cheek, holding your face to his, left hand around your waist supporting you. Your left hand on his cheek, right hand holding the arm wrapped around you. He leans back slightly and begins to rock in and out of you slowly, with long deliberate strokes, never breaking eye contact. You bite your bottom lip as a tear trails down your face. A whimper escapes you, his lip trembles as his breath catches. Eiji presses his forehead to yours and says, “You’re so strong and beautiful. You’re worth so much more than you give yourself credit for— ahh, sss—” he hisses at the end, his strokes beginning to quicken as his fucks up into you. Wet slapping sounds increase in volume as skin meets skin. You nod frantically as more tears flood your eyes from both the pleasure and praise. “I’ve loved you since I first saw you ba— fuck— baby…” he stammers. The hand on your cheek joins the other at your waist, gripping you tightly, his thrusts never faltering.

Eijirou closes his eyes for a moment in an effort to calm himself to prevent his emotions from bubbling to the surface. He wants this to be about you, so he concentrates. And when he opens his eyes again, there’s a fire behind his red irises. Leaning all the way back on the bed, bringing you with him, he digs his heels into the mattress and fucks you hard. The loud thwapping of his hips pistoning into your ass competes with your sobbing. Eijirou drives his cock deep and pulls out so much the tip is just barely inside. Then he jackhammers away at your walls, and you are full-on wailing now, calling out his name, arms flailing to find stability as he fucks you stupid. He grips your belly in one hand, splaying his fingers wide, the plush flesh spilling between them as he thrusts. “I love this shit here—” he squeezes the pudge of your stomach, then presses down to feel the thump of his tip hitting your cervix. Eijirou growls at the sensation as he continues to split you in half.

Tucking his arms under the back of your knees, he brings them up to your chest, cradling you and fucking into your now stilled form as he’s regained control of the situation. “Eeeijiiiii, you’re so deep. I feel you soo fuckin’ deep…” you hiccup as tears and drool streak your face.

“Yeah? You like feeling Daddy’s dick in your guts, baby? You like me knocking your pretty walls loose?” he grunted out, emphasizing the last sentence with his thrusts. Eijirou rotates his hips, beginning to churn your insides.

“Aaagghh, I’m g’na cum… I’m g’na cu—um” you squeak.

“Go on, sweetiepie, make a mess for Daddy. Make my fuckin’ dick all sloppy with your cum. Wet the bed for me,” he growls in your ear.

He shifts one of your legs over to join the other in one of his arms still pulled tightly to your chest, which is no problem to him, given your size difference. Eijirou reaches his free hand down and massages quick circular motions on your clit. He doesn’t miss a beat with the thrusting of his hips, balls slapping wetly against your ass like music.

“Ah, wait! —Daddy! Oh, fuck… fuckfuckFUCK!” you say hysterically as you feel a different kind of pressure building, almost like you have to pee. And suddenly, your pussy gushes, spraying clear liquid in a strong stream only broken by the steady swiping of his fingers still working at your clit to send you beyond the edge of ecstasy. Your walls clenched in a vice and unclenched repeatedly, milking his cock and forming a white creaming ring at the base, which he fucks back up into you. “mmmFUCK, yeah, babe, keep squeezing my dick. Just like tha— shit — ohf—” his voice broke off, going to a higher octave then back down to a deep guttural moan of your name.

Eiji’s cock pulsed inside you, hot gooey heat spilling from it, warming the inside of your belly.

He continues slow and steady pumps into your sore, stretched hole to keep his cum buried deep inside. “Have my baby,” Eiji rasped real low into the shell of your ear, leaving the lightest kiss there. He groans, still coming down from his own orgasm, surprisingly, “fuck, that’s good.”

“Yeah, I’ll have your baby,” you whisper back, tilting your head to the side, so he can hear you better from behind, and your eyes meet again. Eiji holds your gaze, measuring your words and expression, calculating the seriousness of your statement. “Yeah?” he asked, brows furrowed in uncertainty that you really meant it. Honestly, he didn’t think you actually heard him, so this is a shock.

“Yeah…” you give him a smile, the kind that he hasn’t seen from you in some time, and that’s what affirms it all for him.

He sits up slightly, pushing you into a seated position on his lap and spinning you around to straddle him, never disconnecting. And Eijirou pulls you into a tight embrace, his shoulders beginning to rock, body shaking, then you hear it. A sob ripped from his chest as he was unable to hold back his emotions any longer. This was perfect, and it sent him over the edge.

“Oh my god, Eij! What’s wrong baby?!” you attempt to pull away to examine him, but he just clutches you tighter, “Nothings wrong… I’m just really fuckin’ happy, okay?” he let out quietly, a little embarrassed of his emotional display.

“Aww… It’s okay to cry,” you say sweetly. “Even for Big Red,” you continue, joking harmlessly.

“Hah, yeah I guess,” he sniffles cracking a smile, then he’s looking at you again, his vermilion eyes glistening.

“Cupcake… I really do love you. I mean it. Everything about you is a blessing to me, and just now—” he pauses, letting out a short laugh— “you’ve agreed to bless me more. It’s just a lot to take but, I hope it never stops. I want you always, I love you always,” he confesses, giving you a loving kiss on the lips.

“I love you too, Eijirou Kirishima. You’re the best husband, and I’m sorry I ever doubted you”

Looking down then back up through wet eyelashes, you add, “and I’m sure you’ll make a great father.”

You two sit for a moment in lotus position, basking in the afterglow of your passionate and intimate love making, snuggling close to each other. He continues to whisper sweet nothings in your ear, his lips feel so soft and warm against your skin as he continues to kiss you. Hands tracing delicate patterns on your back, sending shivers down your spine. Eijirou’s breath tickles your neck as he murmurs his love for you. He pulls back slightly, looking deeply into your eyes, and you can feel the love radiating from his gaze. He holds you even closer, not wanting to let you go, and you can feel his heart beating against yours… So when you do try to get up, Eijirou looks at you with a confused expression and asks, "what are you doing, honey?"

“Eij, I'm all sticky. We're all sticky,” you say, in a tone that suggests it's apparent.

“And sticky we will stay," Eijirou says, laughing softly. "I gotta keep you plugged up, babe. Don't want my seed spilling out of you and going to waste, now. Unless you want me to fill you back up again," he adds, giving you a suggestive smirk. "Although, I think you need a bit of a break before I knock your shit loose again,” he says with a mischievous glint in his eye.

What the hell are you gonna do with this man? All you know for sure right now is that Daddy loves you. Unconditionally. No matter what happens, he will always be there for you and be your biggest supporter, doing whatever it takes to make sure you are happy and safe. You deserve love and you are loved.

A/n: Look... this is only my second time writing smut and I know I got carried away. Honestly, it might be TOO much. I'll work on it, I promise. TBH, I'm really nervous about posting this. Other than that I hope people like it because it took me some time to do and I'm also really excited about it? Please, be nice! Feedback is welcome! Love you, okay, bye!

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