#I say I don't care and I don't want to push it but then I remember that he's a college student and I'm probably

[tonycries]

After reading your ever single one the writing I have one question.

How long do you think the jjk men are? As in there length

WELL....why stop at analyzing only length? 👀👀👀

Toji - oh god, man is thick. One of the thickest here fr. Uncut. I'm thinkinggg about 8.5 inches but he says he's 9 - either way OUCH 🤕 Such a pretty creamy color, too, and so VEINY. Probably super unruly with his pubes and you'd have to 😈convince😈 him to shave it off if you wanted otherwize.

Nanami - PHEWWWWW BIG D IN THE HOUSE 😈😈 I say a good 8.6 inches and the moment he spots your pretty wedding band while pushing you into the meanest mating press then he can probably go for 9 😳 Cut, shaved, and pretty - the tips of his ears blush the same coral pink as his tip.

Geto - OUUUU so he's another thick one - double c's n' all. Probably about 7.8 - 8 inches and erm...pierced 😩 A pretty studded Prince Albert's, and he's so girthy that Geto has to have you toy with him to actually see it. Probably uncut and slightly on the unruly side like Toji but not as much, he just doesn't care too much for it when leading a cult and serving evil cunt ykyk 😔

Choso - HMHMHMMMM now either he's 7.2 inches or fucking 11 👀 Your pick 👀 Genuinely wonder what magic he could do with that cursed technique of his oml 😩 Uncut and blushes such a pretty strawberry pink - but I think he'd be pretty unruly after being kept in a jar for 150 years so. Deffo shaves and tidies himself up in an instant if you ask!!

Sukuna - girl....RIP that pussy 🤕 You think he'd be seven feet tall and NOT have a monster cock - I'm sorry but man is probably around 13 inches on both cocks 🤕🤕 YEOWCH 💀 Doesn't care too much for manscaping but- honestly- do you even have time to worry? Worry about your internal organs.

Ino - around 6.9 (hehe) to 7.1 inches and pretty UGH we have another pretty boy 😩 Not overly on the girthy side, but Ino's special power is in the way he's curved - just the exact few degrees upwards to bruise your g-spot like no other 💯 Shaved and cut I'd say and he probably thought about getting it pierced to make you feel better (awwww bby) <333

Gojo - don't even ask about his dick because he's got one to match that stupid ego of his ☹ Smh about 9.4 inches mayhaps, and cut. Not especially girthy but you know damn well he's making use of that length RIP 💀 Spends some of the most time keeping his happy trail n' his pubes kempt and oooo he's probably the one that gets the reddest of them all 😋 Like those strawberry lollies he steals from you 😋

[tetzoro]

˖˙ ꔫ — FEELS LIKE SUNSHINE ˚

꒰ synopsis : you’ve been having a tough time but kuroo is there to take care of you and remind you how loved you are. this fic is very indulgent so thank you for reading ❤︎ ꒱

꒰ contents : kuroo tetsuro x f!reader ; negative beginning but happy ending, hurt/comfort, non sexual nudity, use of pet names (sweetheart, beautiful, my girl) sappy at the end lol — WC : 1.8k ꒱

“Long day?” Kuroo asks, holding you close as you start to settle back home. The familiarity is swirling around you, yet you’ve never felt so out of place. You can’t even grace his question with an answer.

The world was muddled, gray. All of the colors around you felt muted and wilted away without the joy the sun brings. 

It wasn’t often you felt like this, but in light of recent events, it’s become your new normal. A blanket of barbed wire wrapped around your shoulders, never letting you rest or relax completely.

You could see the look on his face, the worry etching along his beautiful features twisting the knife in your stomach, nausea rising up your throat. The buildup of bile threatened to spill out and you were choking back the words you desperately wished to say.

Life had a nasty habit of floating out of your grasp, the good things slipping through your fingers and leaving you holding nothing but vacant space, wondering what happened.

It wasn’t that your life had lack of love or enjoyment, but today all of it felt miles away as you’re faced with your reflection — everything bad staring back at you that makes you want to shrivel up and hide away, covering the mirror up in hopes it was all an illusion.

Insecurity and self-doubt chip away at you, taunting you as false memories try to validate all your worst demons, all boiling down to one simple thing.

The absence of hope.

The loss of light that causes darkness to flood in, sticky and invasive, a parasite that latches onto your flesh and bones, tormenting your mind with its lies that only selfishly feed into its lifespan.

Breaking out of it can be a terrible thing. It can hurt like hell — feel like it too as you rip apart something that’s glommed onto your skin and drains you of all the goodness you still desperately tried to hold onto. 

But his touch helps bring you back. The gentle brush of his fingers along your cheek refocuses all of your thoughts — attention landing right back onto him.

“That bad, huh?” Kuroo gives a small smile, one that plants a seed of hope back into your body. The little joy he carries on his face as he looks at you warms and nurtures it, the feeling beginning to bloom and blossom into a rebirth. “Aw, come here, sweetheart.”

The hug he gives you grounds you, pushing all the spiraling pieces of your mind back together, his love consuming you as his arms wrap around your body. 

“Just been a little rough lately.” You mumble, cheek resting against his chest, the sound of his steady heartbeat a calming beacon of hope. After the agony of sailing alone in the dark for so long, your lighthouse stands tall, looking for you at every mile.

“I know.” He kisses the top of your head, giving you an extra squeeze. “But I've got you.”

“You don’t have to.” Self-sabotage floods your veins, your hands already trying to push against him, your body pulling away as you’d do anything to keep him from barring the weight you carried on your shoulders.

Kuroo lets you get some space, but you still feel his light touch you. The soft expression he had, the way his fingers twitched with need, already itching to have you back in his arms.

“I want to.” Not an ounce of hesitation wavered in his voice and you blink back a tear, desperately trying to hold your ground.

You wanted to give in so, so badly. But the thought of having anyone feel an ounce of what you felt scared the shit out of you. A last-ditch effort to protect them from you and all the hurt you held.

“I don't want to burden you.” The confession is but a whisper, secretly hoping that he didn’t hear you. But he does, he always takes it in and understands you even when your voice shakes.

“You couldn’t burden me even if you tried.” The fondness in his promise almost scared you, your walls screaming to be put back up. But you knew it was a lost cause, he was nothing if not persistent.

“But-“

“And even if you could,” he pauses, smoothing his palms over your cheeks and down your shoulders, pressing a lingering kiss on your forehead, speaking his next words against your skull as if your brain would be forced to take them in. “Then please, please burden me.”

“What—“ He cuts you off before you can try to doubt his plea.

“I’ve chosen, committed to loving you. All of you, no matter what. We’re a team, remember? So, burden me.” The fiery intensity in his amber eyes shows you there’s not an ounce of doubt, no hesitation to what he just admitted. It tugs at your heart in all the right ways.

His forehead leans against yours, gazing down at you with all the love and care in the world that it makes you feel silly for ever doubting it. The lingering feelings remain, something deep down inside of you that wants to come out.

“Tetsu, I don't even know where to start.” your voice is still small, vulnerability creeping up on you, pressing down on your back as you fall deeper into his embrace. 

“Then why don’t we get a little more comfortable?” Kuroo asks, innocently enough. “Pouring out your heart out in the front foyer doesn’t seem ideal now does it?”

“No.” You shake your head, a hint of a smile lining your lips. The slight twitch fills Kuroo's heart with hope. He gently takes your hand, leading you further into your shared apartment. 

He’s quiet for a moment and you wonder if he’s feeling the weight you carry on your shoulders through the mere act of holding hands. Before you can slip through his fingers, he holds on tighter, tugging you forward so he can wrap his arm around your shoulder instead.

“What do you say, beautiful? Take a bath, order some takeout, and maybe tell me what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” His other hand reaches up, gently booping you on your forehead, followed by the tip of your nose. 

“Yeah.” The light begins to seep back into your soul the more you melt into his side, tucked away from the ugly thoughts that were invading your space these past few days. 

To say you were lucky was an understatement. To have someone who’s willing to sit with you for as long as it takes until you muster up the courage to speak about your troubles is more than you could ever ask for.

The patience and care that exudes from the man beside you is almost infectious. Love pours from every word and every action he commits, flooding the walls of your heart until you have no choice but to open the doors and let him fully consume you. It only makes it easier knowing that he’s held the key all along.

“Get in there.” Kuroo smirks, jerking his head to the drawn bath, a waft of lavender filling your nose – the kind he knew you always loved. It crinkles your nose just right, scrunching it up in a blissful state that catches the sparkle of Kuroo’s bright eyes. Everything looked beautiful and your heart has never felt so warm, so cherished.

One of your favorite things about this apartment was the bathroom, as silly as it sounds. The high rise you lived in left big windows in every room, this one being no exception. The city lights shone beyond, letting you gaze out into the world when it didn’t have the opportunity to look back.

It’s amazing how one moment you can feel so down in the depths of despair but looking out at the window from this height serves as a reminder of how far up from the bottom you are. The progress you’ve made doesn’t become exempt the moment things start getting tough again, it’s merely another test that aims to show you how far you’ve truly come.

As you crawl into the warm water of the tub, letting the bubbles soak away your worries and sing you melodies of relaxation, Kuroo goes the extra mile. Because of course he does. There were a few candles you kept in the linen closet for nights when you two wanted to have a romantic bath. He lights them anyway, adding to the cozy ambience, and your heart soars at the thoughtful gesture.

“Are you planning on joining me?” You ask, eyes on him, watching him scurry around the small space to make things perfect. His head whips around to you, gaze softening once again before something mischievous swims his golden irises. 

“I thought you’d never ask.” Kuroo quickly takes off his clothes, not giving you nearly enough time to admire his toned body before he slipped in behind you, sturdy arms holding you flush against him. “There, now we’re all nice and cozy.”

“Thank you, Tetsu.” You sigh a breath of relief that had been trapped somewhere deep within, locked away with a key that had been thought to be lost. Leaning back against his shoulder, you realize how much you needed this — him.

His syrupy sweet lips brush against your head like the sun kissing the horizon as it rises once again. It fills you with warmth, support, gratitude. Everything wonderful in this world birthed from a simple kiss that held all the love you needed. 

“You can always lean on me, I won’t ever let you fall.” Kuroo’s voice is softer than usual, a tone reserved for you and these tender moments when you need a little extra gentleness. The tender, reassuring words cradle around your ear and hold your heart steady as his arms loop around you, securing you in place. “I promise.”

You know your thanks will fall on deaf ears, that this simple task he’s doing for you is no sweat off his back. The only thing he craves to hear from you is your acceptance, your willingness to let him in so you can tackle everything together like the power couple you were meant to be.

“Okay.” You whisper out into the soft-lit room, letting the atmosphere of love and bubbles consume you, melting away your troubles like the wax that drips from the candles. “I will.”

“That’s my girl.” Without even seeing his face, you know he’s smiling. A proud grin he notoriously wears like his finest suit whenever he finally achieves his goals. The one he knew he’d sport in only a matter of time after he broke down your stubborn walls once again. 

Tender hands rub along your arms, his lips brushing along your head as he hums to the tune that never fails to make you smile right back. The song you would often sing to each other in the sweet moments in your life whether it be slow dancing in the kitchen as dinner cooks, or moments like these where you’re tucked away from the rest of the world to be reminded just how much your souls are tied together.

thank you for being here + thank you for reading ❤︎

[tech-issues-apologies]

The thing with all of this is that it is the natural result of the systems we are embedded in. People will tend towards meeting their own needs within the perceived and real limits of their circumstances, and the system will try to maximize profit while minimizing cost, often my displacing or delaying that cost or degrading the product or service.

I don't even mean this in capitalist/economic terms when I say this. With almost all care fields and care, ajacent fields have masive labor shorteges. Hell, a lot of chritical fields in general are short on labor relative to the demands. Although all these jobs definitely don't pay well enough to pull in workers, it goes beyond that. Even with competitive pay, the number of qualified individuals is just not there to adequately fill demand. Even if everyone should afford it there is just not enough bandwidth in the system to acomidate the need.

We let the barriers to training get so large that even people who would work in these positions under otherwise ideal circumstances can not get the training or credentials to do them. Due to *gestures to all capitalism and society*, we are making these jobs and nightmare to work in with a lack of material or labor resources. This is leading to the double wamy of retention and recruitment issues. On top of this, a lot of fields do not pay well enough, especially with the cost of credentials, and they are increasingly made to do busy work invented to reduce the chance insurance will pay that takes them away from care.

On top of all this, a lot of these jobs are the kind of jobs that pull from a smaller talent pool than most jobs. Care jobs often need people who have a combination of aptitude, inclination, and temperment to be done well. Then, with society(capitalism) increasing demand more than is nesisary in the pursuit of unsustainable growth and value extraction and control, it all combines to form a perfect storm of capitalism selling a new shinier solution to a problem it had a hand in creating. Telling people not to use ai without addressing the cause is like telling people not to self medicate on moral grounds and then doing nothing to help or adress the things that keep them in pain. If you are not actually invested in them or their outcomes in a tangible way, why would they let you tell them how to live?

There are plenty of people on the internet shouting commands demands and guilt at strangers on the internet, and i think that we can all agree that there are some pretty bad takes online.

I have said it before and I will say it again. Like most things, if you want to stop a behavior, especially one fueled by a precieved or real need, your best bet is to materials change that person's circumstances or provide better options(I like the atempts I saw above even if i think they fall short of what is needed).

Luckily, the bandaid and the permanent cure are almost the same thing. Society needs to change. Part of that involves undermining and replacing a society in which transactionalism as the only way of living is increasingly encouraged and even enforced by the threat of violence or deprivation towards one of voluntary reciprocity and mutual aid. All of us need to push for more equity and care, and part of that also involves helping and lifting each other up. Of proving the validity and workability of an alternative paradime by living prefigurative living. Not only does the current system break people down and make it harder for them to resist, but Intangibility and Lack of Examples of alternatives makes it harder for people to maintain the morale and determination to push for future tech anger and make it in the moment.

A lot of this is going to require learning and using existing skills to help each other. To build those networks of mutual strength. Of putting in the labor and time to conect, build meaningfull relationships and trust, and meet needs they and you can't alone. Some of this is just being there for people. Spending time and helping with normal underrated skills. And the more and longer you do it, the more you build the strength and size of your network. To make those networks work without you. We do this all the time. What needs to change is that we need to strengthen these weekend skills and make them a greater part of how we meet and organize people and get things done.

guys. please

[keikikait]

ꜱᴜɴᴅᴀʏ ᴍᴏʀɴɪɴɢ (ʀᴀꜰᴇ ᴄᴀᴍᴇʀᴏɴ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ)

this is the epilogue. for part three, click here!

pairing: rafe cameron x kook!f!reader, (not au, both are early to mid 20s)

word count: 1k

summary: you have a choice to make

warnings: ANGST!!!!, crying, emotional rafe, suggestive????, not proofread

a note: this is the last part

please reblog and like, it means a lot! let me know what you think!

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

Your whole world crashes down around you, then.

Did you hear him correctly? “What?”

“That’s why I pushed you away,” He says, swallowing hard. “I was... I was so terrified of hurting you. I kept telling myself that you didn’t really love me, that it was an infatuation, a childhood crush. I kept hoping that it would just go away if I ignored it long enough. But I love you. I love you so damn much, I never want you to leave me again.”

You should be happy. You should be elated. 

But you aren’t.

Your eyebrows furrow and you take a step back. “You’re lying to me.”

He shakes his head, his expression growing desperate, desperate and panicked. Your reaction had made his chest feel like it was crumbling again. “I'm not lying,” He insists, taking a step towards you, hand reaching out towards you. “I'm not. Please don't move away from me.”

“You don’t…you don’t get to do this to me, Rafe,” You say, your voice trying not to crack. “You don’t get to do this. Not after yelling at me, not after getting upset with me for being in love with you.”

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry,” He says, his eyes going wide as he watches you react like this. He takes another step forward, grabbing your hand as you try to walk away. “I was angry, I was stupid and scared, and I took it out on you. I always took it out on you. Please, don't leave, don't walk away from me.”

“You knew I was in love with you this whole time, yet you didn’t say anything?” Angry tears well in your eyes.

“Because I was terrified,” He says, his voice growing more desperate by the second. “I was an idiot who told himself that you didn’t really care, that you would eventually find someone else and realise that you’re better than me. I told myself that you would be so much better off without me in your life. And I hated myself for even saying it, because I need you. I need you to look at me, talk to me, touch me-“ He stops himself, swallowing hard.

“You were all I wanted, Rafe. You were all I needed.” You say, reaching up with your free hand to wipe your tears.

“I know,” He says, looking right into your eyes. “I don’t deserve you. I know that. I’ve spent years telling myself that I didn’t deserve the way you’ve always cared about me. You’ve always been there for me, even when I was cruel and bitter and didn’t deserve it in the slightest, you still cared. More than I deserve. And it hurt me, it hurt having you there, loving me, and me not being able to let myself love you back until it was too late.”

You don’t know what to say. You try to pull your hand away, your face scrunching up as more tears begin to fall. “I don’t… I can’t…”

He doesn’t let you go, instead he tightens his grip on you, holding you there in front of him. “Please don’t leave,” He says. “Please, don’t let me ruin everything. I’ll do better, alright? I’m going to be so good to you, I swear. Just don’t leave me, god, please don’t walk out that door. I can’t do this without you. Please don’t punish me for being an idiot.”

Your arms and legs feel heavy. You try to pull away again. “I… I just… I don’t know…”

“Then don’t try to figure it out,” He says, pulling you against him roughly. “Stay here. Stay the night with me. Just don’t walk out that door and leave me alone tonight. Stay here, let me hold you.” Rafe embraces you tightly, holding you fiercely. His strong arms wrap around you, pulling you close against his chest, as if he never wants to let go.

For a few moments, he doesn't say anything, simply holding you tight. Finally, he speaks, his voice a mere whisper. “Promise me you won't ever stop letting me hold you like this.”

Has it always been this way?

You feel poisonous and heavy.

“Rafe…” You try to say.

“Shh,” He shushes you, his big hand coming up to stroke soothingly over your hair. “Just stay. That’s all I’m asking you to do. Just stay here until the morning, alright? We can talk then.” He holds you again, tighter. He can’t help but think about how perfect your body felt pressed against his, how right it felt. He had missed holding you like this.

Rafe picks you up, and you let him.

You let him take you to bed. You let him undress you, you let him slip his own clothes over you.

You let him hold you. You let him bury his face in your neck, and you let him place tiny, soft kisses there. He lies under the covers with you, holding you close against his bare chest, his heartbeat loud, steady and fast under your ear. For a while, he just lies there, holding you in silence. 

Finally, he brings his lips down to your neck, pressing against your skin as he speaks. “I love you,” He murmurs, his breath warm on your neck. “You know that, right? That’s never changed. Whatever else has happened, that’s stayed the same. I've always loved you.”

You liked to think that you were different to him.

But you weren’t.

You don’t reply, letting him hold you, letting him rub his thumb along your side. He presses another kiss to your neck, on the edge of sleep, and whispers in your ear. “I love you.”

His snores are soft, the only other noise to be heard other than the whirring of his ceiling fan.

Rafe will be alright. He’ll be alright on the other side.

But will you?

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

You lay awake as the sun rises. It’s Sunday morning.

You untangle yourself from him, pulling the covers over his shoulders.

He looks so beautiful, even now.

You redress yourself, quietly moving around his room, careful not to wake him. The sun shines through his window, casting a soft glow on his tanned skin as you dig through your bag for an old receipt and a pen.

You place the note down on the pillow, giving him a soft kiss on the forehead before leaving, carefully shutting the door behind you.

And when Rafe wakes, shortly after your departure, he reads it.

It’ll pass.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

again, this is the last part

★taglist: @ietss, @teenwolfbitches28, @momoewn, @blairsblg, @gilwm, @drewsphswife, @odairtrqsh, @watchmerora, @wearemadeofstardust0, @rafesbabygirlx, @slumnit, @evermorx89, @ivy-34, @ts1mp0ne, @drewstarkeysstuff, @kayreblogs, @rafeycameronsgf, @lulbabes, @xomarryamox, @montanajgbn, @monkey-d-juliana, @koalalafications, @stylestarkey, @loves0phelia, @lhhlver, @user381953, @wintergirlysstuff, @emberaurora, @wtfisastiles, @bluejeepgirl11, @artistadistrada2002, @fastlovela, @lucifersie, @marlenee3e, @koibleufish, @babygirlwilly, @dasia21, @karmasloverrr, @greyswaren, @tini5, @witchmoon10, @xcinnamonmalfoyx, @arivh, @devils-blackrose, @goldsainz, @vonhoe, @ursogorgeous1313, @exhaustedbutelated, @enjoymyloves, @rinasauruss, @danikasthings, @danicl25, @maybankslover, @rafeeeeeeee, @dreamygirli3, @girlgreeneyedgirrl, @ravenmedows, @outlawedmando, @abarelyexistentbeing, @immalosersblog, @rafecameronswifeyy, @cwufst, @positivelyinlovewithjungwon (italics means i couldn't tag you!)

[rezitio]

"𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐍'𝐓 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐘𝐀𝐋𝐄" gojo satoru

smut

leak: You find yourself in Gojo's bed again

genre: post-high school series, college sex, plaything, smart!rr, realistic college fuckboy (You're just a plaything), messy org, p in v, dacryphillia, gojo is high, sweet talk

artist: gojo satoru

━━━━━━

All your senses are dulled; that smart brain that was always at work, either running that sharp mouth or your honour roll grades, has gone blank.

But you're not spaced out either. You wish you could be, but each thrust brings you right back to the present. The pleasure you’re feeling down there won’t allow you to even dream of being anywhere other than the reality of Gojo Satoru’s bed being pounded into.

But who are you to complain? You called for this. Blowing up his phone with shit like ‘I need you’ when his other girl is right next to him. He was so close to blocking your number if you kept flooding his DMs.

But all it took was one nude to get this man to blow off the other girl and invite you over. You’re lucky, you tell yourself.

So lucky that fuckboy Gojo has a liking for your body. The boy who all he does is lead and everyone cheers.

He’s calling you to his bed of all places. For all his other hoes, it's either their house or another room in his mega mansion; the university calls a dorm. You’d like to think it makes you special. You’re not.

He’s digging you deep into the mattress with each thrust. Your eyes dart across the room; it's all you can do other than yell. The room was dark; the only light around was the blue LED strips hidden by the ceiling designs, matching his eyes.

The whites in his eyes had turned a light red. Contrast to your sober ones. That should have been your first sign, but from ignoring red eyes to red flags, warnings have never been your strong suit.

Your clothes and his mixed on the floor, the purple liquid on the nightstand that got knocked down somewhere in between the time you still had energy to squirm around was still dripping onto the expensive carpet.

Gojo didn’t care; he had enough money to buy another one. Right next to the cup of lean was his firearm. You don't know what happened to him during his teen years that made him turn out like this, but those who knew him when he was in his senior years all say it was inevitable for him and his group.

The lights were all so pretty. Illuminating behind the design of the ceiling. You wanted to get a better look at it, gently raising your head to look up, only for it to roughly be pushed back down.

Just like that, you were brought back to the reality of things: how deep he was in you, how loudly you were screaming. His dick was ravaging you at a constant rhythm. It was hitting that spot repeatedly with each thrust. And his dick wouldn’t even leave your warmth for a second, keeping you filled up.

A drop of salty water finds a way to your mouth. That's when you notice a pool of wet cloth around your face. You had been crying for a while now, although you’re now noticing it Gojo’s been staring at it for a while, but he didn’t care to slow down. In fact, it gave him an ego boost.

You’re crying yet at the same time begging him not to stop; how pathetic could you be? Tired of the noise, his digits find a way into your mouth. You know what he wants you to do; you suck on them, muffling your sounds. In other words, you shut up.

It was working for a while. He could deal with the vibrations on his fingers masking your loud moans until he felt himself getting close. He could care less about the progress he was making and quickened his pace chasing the release.

Trying to keep your sound in, you bite down on his fingers. He didn't mind; all his other sensations dulled down and focused on his cock. He could feel his body teasing him, electric currents rushing from his sacks through to his length, then dancing at his tip as more electricity piles on his tip.

God, he loved your body so much. It was like it was in perfect sync with his. Your lower body started shaking on his dick; the screams were slipping out; you were also close.

Your fingers reached for the hand binding them, digging your nails into his skin. “Toru…” You yelped out, but he already knew; a little bit of your white liquid was already running down his thigh. You were doing such a bad job of holding your orgasm.

“Cum on me, baby.” He commanded his hand, left your hands, and began to work on your clit as you released. All his self-confidence decimated as he felt his own orgasm rushing out and had no control over it. He was no better than you.

He pulled out, and your cream blew over his thigh; he didn't have time to mind it, though. His finger in your mouth pulled your head back quickly, rushing to release in your mouth. But he barely had control over the pleasure you made him feel.

The little squirter almost missed your mouth, causing part of his walls and the side of your face to be painted in the same liquid that was now rushing down your throat. He sandwiched your head between the mattress and his dick, enjoying the vibration of your gags and gurgles.

“Sh... struggle with me...” He lowly whispered as if he wasn't suffocating you. God, he hated how messy you were and how messy and stimulated you made him.

label: rezitio© album: post-high school au sample: Yale by Ken Carson

im currently writing a nanami fiction, so buckle up for that 😛

kodaswrld for banner

[parkerluvsu]

day 18: punishment <3

authors note: this is totally late im so sorry.. also i am skipping day 19, partially because im extremely tired and also because i don't know how to incorporate food into sex <3

art knew what he was doing was wrong, he just didn't care. he was past the point of caring.

you've been away for weeks (2 to be exact) and art hasn't jerked off at all since you've left. sure.. he's brushed up against his pillow while he's going to sleep one too many times, and sure hes "accidentally" stroked himself a little too much in the shower.. but he's been good!! he's been your good boy and followed your orders. until now.

you texted art that your flight was running late, grounded for about 2 hours because of the winter storm currently running its course outside the airport.

"sorry artie, flight is delayed cuz of weather, don't wait up for me baby, might not even be home tonight"

"okay :( i miss you soooo much, text me when u land pls"

"alright angel, will do :) love u <3"

"love u too <3"

art sighs and flops on the unbearably empty bed, flinging his phone a little farther than he meant to and wincing. he looks down at his cock slowly filling out in his jeans and groans. what is he supposed to do without you here? as thoughts of you start to cloud his mind, art can't stop thinking that if he just jerked off really quick and got rid of all the evidence, you wouldn't know it, and you'd come back none the wiser and he wouldn't get punished. great plan right? wrong.

after furiously jerking off until he cums himself silly, art finds himself totally unable to clean up after himself, cum stating to dry on his blanket and stomach, as well as tissues strewn about the bed. art sighs and tries to fight the sleepiness that clouds his mind and makes his eyelids droop more and more. he thinks to himself that he'll clean himself up before you get back, and drifts off to sleep with a smile on his face.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

you arrive at your apartment door hauling your heavy suitcase and back pack behind you, trying your best not to jingle your keys too much and wake up art. you carefully unlock the door and push your bags inside, slipping off your shoes and walking into the house tiredly, wanting nothing more to sleep for 20 hours. you're stopped however, when you round the corner and see art splayed out on your bed, absolutely naked, cuddling your pillow with a cum stained blanket bedside him. you sigh, leaning down to pick up the scattered tissues and throw them away. when you're done with that, you gently sit next to art, trying to pull away the dirty blanket from him and replace it with a new one.

art senses the movement and awakens, first being elated to see your face, and then shocked at the fact that he was caught red-handed. "h-hi.." art looks away from you and blushes. "hey artie.. you gonna tell me what happened?" you coo at him softly, tricking his brain into thinking he won't get punished. "w-well i jus' missed you so much and then when you said you weren't gonna be home for a while i just couldn't handle it anymore.. b-but i swear i didn't do anything while you were away!! except for that.." art rambles, trying to plead his case in front of you. you smile and nod, reaching out to cup his face. art sighs, he's safe. "... but you remember what the rule was, right?"

arts eyes snap open from their blissful state. "w-what?" art is starting to lose his composure, guilt washing through him. "the rule? remember.. before i left i told you that you weren't allowed to masturbate at all while i was gone. and you broke the rule artie.." you say with a pout on your face. "l-listen 'm sorry, 'm really sorry.. you understand right? i- just couldn't take it anymore.." you shake your head, "you know that i have to punish you right? it's what i told you would happen if you broke the rules.." art nods sadly, trying to charm you with his puppy-dog eyes but you're stronger than that, not falling for his tricks.

art tries his best to hide his obvious arousal from you, but you see how hard he is through the blanket he's covering himself with. you inch closer to him, gently pulling the blanket off of him, watching as his cock slaps against his stomach. art whines and looks away from you, moaning softly when you grip him in your hand. even though he's already practically empty from cumming earlier. you stroke him up and down gently, smiling happily when he bucks his hips up to meet your touch, feeling like he's halfway to heaven after not feeling your touch on him the whole time you've been away.

arts head is in the clouds, watching as you stroke him faster and faster, your hand getting slick from all of the precum drooling out of him. you know he's getting close, his hips move faster, almost fucking your hand, as his moans turn almost girlish. "'m gettin' close.. it feels s' good.. thankyouthankyouthankyou..." art doesn't get a chance to finish his sentence before you rip your hand off of him, leaving art to pathetically hump the air to try to finish himself off, but it's no use, his orgasm is completely ruined. art has tears brimming in his eyes, "w-why did you do that.. i- i was s' close.." his lower lip wobbles. you tilt your head to the side, hand smoothing over his milky thigh. "what do you mean artie? i told you that you'd be punished, did you forget so easy?" art frowns, shaking his head. "i- i didn't forget i just.. it's unfair" he pouts. you smile and bring art closer to you, cuddling him against your sternum.

"i know.. and im sorry.. you know i hate when you're sad, but you have to learn your lesson yeah?" you press a kiss to his forehead. art nods, cuddling up to you. "yeah.. 'm sorry really, it's just cuz i missed you so much" art says quietly, blushing a little bit. "i missed you too artie, don't worry, ill make it up to you soon" <3

[arkadijxpancakes]

There are a couple of angles you can take:

1) Remember that "No" is a full sentence. You can just decline, without elaborating further. As she is your friend, you might want to cushion it a little bit, but you don't have to give any reasoning for not wanting to watch that show. You could try to offer some alternative, too. (Example: "Hey friend, I know you are interested in that new HP series everyone is talking about. Personally, It's just not for me. Therefore, I won't watch it. How about we watch/play/read [other thing] instead?")

If she keeps pushing after that, just redirect her to your "No". If she refuses to accept your boundary, it might be time to reevaluate (parts of) that friendship.

The other angles kind of depend on who your friend is, what she does and doesn't know about Rowling and on what she values. If you want to discuss this with her, try to make it personal. If she is passionate about something (trans rights, workers rights, etc.) focus on that. Avoid arguments she isn't interested in/doesn't care about. You can mix and match as needed, but try to stick to one or two main arguments. (That way, it's easier to keep the discussion on track. It's easy to get sidetracked or derailed, if there are too many arguments floating around. It could also cause her to get overwhelmed - and someone who is overwhelmed is unlikely to listen.)

But lets look at the different angles:

2) Focus on Rowling and her bigotry. She has (and, in a lot of cases, still does):

spread misinformation about transness and trans people. She constantly tries to stir up moral panics about trans women in public bathrooms, prisons and sports.

refused to accept the results of scientific research. She is just as anti-science as many climate change deniers.

used ableist and infantilizing language against autistic people. (This usually boils down to the idea that autistic people do not understand how the world works and should not be allowed to make divisions about themselves and their own bodies.)

supported involuntary conversion therapy. (She also named one of her pseudonyms after Robert Galbraith Heath, a pioneer of conversion therapy. When called out on this, she refused knowing about Robert Galbraith Heath. Apparently, she just really likes the names Robert and Galbraith and had to mash them together without doing a quick google search. She did not change the pseudonym and is still publishing books under that name.)

used her wealth and reputation to influence British politics and lobby against trans rights. (For example, the right to self-ID and the right to trans inclusive healthcare.)

caused and participated in multiple harassment campaigns against women of color, by claiming they were men. One of her targets is Imane Khelif, a female boxer who participated in the Olympic Games 2024. Rowling targeted her, after she won a match against an Italian boxer. She also targeted Lin Yu-ting, another boxer.

She is on record for denying crimes committed by the Nazis. In particular, she called the fact that trans people were targeted by the Nazis as a "fever dream". When called out on this, she doubled down and tried to hide behind semantics. She also allowed literal Neo Nazis to support her on this. Note: When people talk about this, they often use the term "Holocaust Denial" - which it totally is. However, I would refrain from using that term, because it could allow your friend to derail the discussion by focussing on semantics instead of on what Rowling did. Many transphobes and Rowling apologists love to claim that it isn't Holocaust denial, because the Holocaust was about the genocide against Jews and trans people aren't Jews. They will also claim, that it isn't Holocaust denial, because she isn't denying that the Holocaust happened. You really don't want to get swamped with that bullshit, so don't say "Rowling has committed Holocaust denial." Instead, try to be specific. (Example: Rowling called the idea, that trans people were persecuted by the Nazis during the Third Reich, a "fewer dream". This includes her denying the fact that the Nazis raided the Insitut für Sexualwissenschaft and burned its library. (At that time, the Institut für Sexualwissenschaft was the leading research institution for gay, transgender and intersex topics.)

3) Focus on the bigotry in the books. The books just don't have aged well. If the series sticks to the books, there will be a lot of questionable stuff in there. This includes in no particular order:

The houself-plotline that Rowling introduces in Goblet of Fire depicts an enslaved fantasy species that loves working for their masters and sees payment as an insult. They also react with mental health issues and alcoholism, when freed. When Hermione starts to advocate for them, her activism is treated as a joke. Her contemporaries laugh at her, the house elves resent her and the lesson she learns from all of this is "They like it that way!"

There is no fucking progress. At the end of the books, the house elves are still enslaved, Hermione has stopped her activism and “All was well.”

The way, female characters are portrayed in the books, is pretty misogynistic. Firstly, there is just a lack of important female characters in general. (Most characters, especially when it comes to important characters, are male.) Secondly, the female characters that do exist, tend to fall into iffy tropes. Hermione and Ginny fall into the “not like other girls” trope. Adult female characters are often reduced to their roles as wives and mothers. Female characters, who perform femininity wrong, get criticized and condemned by the narrative. (This includes feminine characters who are too feminine, characters who are too masculine and characters who refuse to be good little wives and mothers. Examples are Fleur Delacour, Lavender Brown, Rita Skeeter, Dolores Umbridge and Bellatrix Lestrange.)

There is a lot of colonialist thinking in the books. You can see this in how characters from other countries get stereotyped a lot. It’s also reflected in the way non-wizards are treated.

The teaching methods that are depicted in the books are just awful. Most teachers we see, simply shouldn’t be put into a classroom full of kids. And it’s not just Snape, either. (At least, his teaching “skills” get criticized in the books.) McGonagall plays favorites, while pretending to be fair, Dumbledore regularly endangers the kids in his care (and it’s not just Harry either) and let’s not even try to talk about Hagrid.

There is a lot of fatphobia in the books. It’s mostly reserved for characters who are bad or evil. (Just look at how Dudley is treated, for example.)

There is a lot of ableism in the books.

There is a lot of black-and-white-thinking in the books. Stuff the good guys do, is usually depicted as good, Stuff the bad guys do, is usually depicted as bad and evil. Even if they do the same thing. (Snape or the Slytherins bully Neville? How could they! Outright evil, all of them! Harry or other good Gryffindor characters bully Neville? Oh, that’s just a little bit of fun and comic relief. No big deal.)

In addition the black-and-white-thinking, there is also a lot of mean-spiritedness in the books. On a fundamental level, most characters are pretty mean. And it’s not just the bad/evil characters, either. At times, Harry, Ron and Hermione are pretty mean to other characters and each other. As are good characters like McGonagall and Molly Weasley, and lovely old Hagrid is even worse. Then there are all the bullies on the Gryffindor-side of the good-vs-evil divide. (Mostly the Marauders, but also Fred and George.)

4) Focus on the series itself. It’s very likely, that this series will be nothing but a cash grab. You can point at Fantastic Beasts. It might have started with a pretty solid film, but after that the quality of the films fell down a steep cliff. The films got canceled after film 3. It is very likely that the TV series will suffer the same fate. Because it’s not about revisiting the books and making a high-quality series about them. There are already movie adaptations of the books and they are good enough and new enough. There is no need for another adaptation. So no, it’s not about making a good adaptation. Warner is simply trying to milk their cash cow.

If you are a marauders fan/ you support or are in the queer community then do Not watch the upcoming Harry Potter show! Do not support it! Do not interact with posts in support of it! We do not need anymore content from jkr! Buy the books second hand! Don’t buy official merch! Stop giving your money to her! Stop being transphobic!

Edit: I have a reply in the reblogs to those mentioning to pirate the show

[pretend-i-don-t-exist]

ok back to my sy as yang yixuan au bc the brainrot refuses to leave

Luo Binghe's shixiong and shijie do not like him. This is a fact.

Qing Jing Peak and Bai Zhan Peak have long-standing animosity with each other. This is also a fact.

Those two facts are the root cause of why Luo Binghe is desperately running away, ducking and weaving through the bamboo as four Bai Zhan disciples hunt him down during their raid.

He yelps when he trips over a portruding stone, landing harshly on his elbows. He's already scrambling away when one of the disciples grabs his arm, and punches him on the cheek.

Luo Binghe, with all the force he can muster, pushes him away and resumes running. It doesn't take long before he's cornered to a dead end, and he backs away, trying to find an exit.

He does not need to plan his escape any further when a boy– dressed in Bai Zhan blues and blacks, lands down silently in front of the disciples, and proceeds to solidly beat each and every one of them up.

He has them all giving up in just a few minutes.

"Ah, seriously..." this new boy— older than Luo Binghe, stronger and smarter, too— sighs, placing his hands on his hips. "None of you really listen, don't you?"

With one swift, practiced motion, he swings the four rambunctious disciples over his shoulder, looking unamused. "All of you are to present at the Hall of Reflection and copy down the scriptures fifty times, and I will personally oversee your training for the next two months," the boy says, authority dripping off of every inch of his body. "Seriously, you're lucky you haven't injured anyone or else you'll be facing a worse punish–"

The boy's eyes catch Luo Binghe's. Luo Binghe shrinks away, all too aware of the livid bruise on his cheek and the blood from his nose.

There is silence. Then there is a thud, and all the Bai Zhan disciples who came for the raid groan in unison. There are footsteps, and the boy is suddenly kneeling in front of him, his hands inexplicably tender and gentle.

The boy hisses at the sight of the bruise. "I apologize for my shidi and shimei," he says, soft. His hands are marred with callouses, strong and firm and powerful, but they are gentle when they touch Luo Binghe. "They are rowdy and a little feral after being left uncontrolled for too long. May I ask for shixiong's understanding?"

Shixiong? Luo Binghe nods, a little wide-eyed. The boy softens, perceptibly, and begins threading qi to his meridians. "This is to quicken your body's natural healing," he explains. "You should get it looked better, however– I can accompany you to Qian Cao Pe–"

"No!" Luo Binghe blurts out, cringing away. Da-shixiong's friends warned him against going to Qian Cao. He doesn't want to know what they'd do if he does go there.

A pause. "Very well." The boy stops his qi, finding the bruise to be sufficiently healed. He pulls out medicine from his sleeve, just like how his Shizun does. "This is for bruises, and this one for small cuts. All topical– externally applied on skin, not ingested. No, please don't worry, this is the least I can do."

Luo Binghe accepts the medicine under the boy's insistence. He cannot say anything, tongue heavy in his mouth, not to even ask for the boy's name or why he is helping him.

The boy rises to his feet. "Well," he says, hesitantly laying a hand on Luo Binghe's hair. Either he doesn't seem to notice the flinch or he ignores it, but that doesn't matter because the boy is– patting his head. Gently and softly, like he has not the power to defeat all of the disciples here in this clearing on Qing Jing Peak.

"We'll have to get going now," the boy says. "Don't worry, they will be reflecting on their actions and will be sincerely apologizing for them. Take care, shixiong."

With two disciples over his shoulder and two under his arm, the boy flies away on his spiritual sword. Luo Binghe clutches the medicine in his hands tighter, feeling the warmth of the boy's gentle hands lingering on his own, and tries to carve every line of the boy's face into his memory.

[autonomousroboticorganism]

sparkmate (TF One Sentinel Prime)

pairing - Sentinel Prime x F!Reader

summary - Sentinel has never showed any interest in sparkmates, or at least that's what you assumed. turns out, you're wrong.

warnings - another mech pushes you/slight violence

a/n - i am delusional when it comes to this bot so expect a lot of delusional fluff about him in the coming days

Arrogant. Narcissistic. Obnoxious.

These were all words that could be used to describe Sentinel Prime. Along with crazy, weird and insufferably handsome. You couldn't imagine there being any femme who wasn't crushing on the leader of Iacon, and you were no exception.

But it wasn't like you could ever mean anything more than an advisor, a friend, to him. Because he didn't pursue romantic relationships, as far as you knew. It was an unfortunate fact you would have to live with, made difficult by being in his presence all the time. Everyday.

You watched your friends find sparkmates, and felt happy for them. Though every time they tried to set you up, it ended in disaster.

You only had one mech in mind, and that was Sentinel Prime.

It was just so hard to get his attention.

You various attempts didn't work, and you had pretty much given up and resigned the idea of ever being his sparkmate when something you did unintentionally got his attention.

You were talking to one of his elite guards, discussing some new security measures, when that guard began to hit on you. You, not knowing he was flirting, carried on speaking to him, accepting his compliments thinking they were said kindly.

Sentinel was looking for you, wanting a second opinion on his new paintjob, but that quickly darkened into wanting to get you away from that guard asap when he saw what was going on. The Prime was easily jealous, especially when it came to things, and a certain Cybertronian, that belonged to him.

"(Name)!" He called cheerily, but when he grabbed your arm his touch was anything but cheerful. It was hard, almost hurtful, as he pulled you away from the brave guard. "Let him know he's fired, later."

You gaped at the Prime, "What? Why? It wasn't even his mistake-"

"You misunderstand, dear (Name)," his voice was sickly sweet, like something malicious lurked behind his tone. "He's not fired because of that."

But he didn't elaborate, he simply kept leading you away from the guard. Away from all his guards, in fact. To a much more private area of his tower, one that had your jaw dropping when you entered. You never thought you'd ever see it.

His berthroom.

"Uh, what are we-"

He cut you off, "I heard your friends have started looking for a sparkmate for you. Do you want one?"

"I, um-" Being here was disorienting enough, but his question completely took you out. You didn't think he'd ask that, let alone care about your love life.

"Do you," He moved closer, repeating himself but slower, "want one, (Name)?"

Your processor whirled, trying to figure out what to say. You didn't know what the right answer was to that, or what his reaction would be if you admitted the truth, that you did want one.

So you did the next worst best thing.

You said, "I want you."

Then you clapped a servo over your intake, optics going wide. It took Sentinel a minute to process what you had just blurted out, before he smiled.

"Naturally."

"Look, Sentinel-"

"Open up," he tapped your chassis, and began to do so with his.

Your optics widened even more, and slowly you opened your chassis up. Your spark buzzed excitedly being so close to his, and when he moved closer to you there was no hesitance and no resistance in the bonding process.

When it was over, and your sparks were back in their chambers, you stared at him in disbelief. Not only had you just become his sparkmate, but you felt all the possessiveness he felt over you.

"Perfect!" He beamed, "Now I don't have to worry right? You're mine, and only mine."

"Worry..?"

Sentinel could be a lot sweeter and softer than most would assume. He was an egotistical maniac, of course, but your bond revealed all the affection and love he felt for you.

"Enough. Stop working, sweetspark."

Sentinel pulled you away from what you were doing simply to hold you. He loved attention, especially from you, and right now he needed yours.

"But Sentinel, you wanted-"

"That can wait."

His arms wrapped entirely around your frame, pulling you against his chassis as he buried his faceplates in your neck cables.

"This feels good."

You felt your faceplates heat up, "Yes, it does."

"We should do this more often," he pulled away with a very cheerful smile.

"Sentinel, have you never been given a hug..?"

"If you mean what we just did, then no," he shrugged it off like it was nothing. "I haven't exactly been close to anyone, in case you didn't notice."

"Hmm," you hummed, then hugged him again.

Once he realised touch was a sign of affection, you noticed him do it a lot more. From placing a servo on your lower back to holding your servo, Sentinel had to be touching you in some way.

Primus forbid anyone else touch you, though.

"(Name)! It's been so long!"

Before you could even register who the voice had come from, a mech was in front of you and reaching out to hug you. You stepped back, a bit uncomfortable when you saw that it was one of the mechs your friends had set you up with.

"Oh, uh, hi," you greeted uncertainty. You looked around, hoping this wouldn't get Sentinel's attention. Because this really was nothing.

The mech grinned, "So I've been thinking...last time was fun, right? I enjoyed myself, you enjoyed yourself...why don't we try again?"

"Actually I'm Sentinel Prime's..." You trailed off when he began to look afraid, and your frame went rigid when you saw a familiar shadow engulf the shaking mech. "Sentinel."

"My love!" He exclaimed dramatically, making sure to shoot the other mech a glare before grabbing your chin and pulling your face towards his. He kissed you possessively, putting on a show for the mech who'd tried to touch his sparkmate. "My name sounds so good when you say it, you know that?" He mumbled as he pulled away.

The mech was long gone. But so was Airachnid.

"What are you going to do to him?"

"What do you mean?" Sentinel smiled, digits ghosting over your jawline.

"..."

"Although, it was nice to hear you say you're mine."

"I tell everyone that."

"Really? Even better!"

He may have odd ways of showing it, but he genuinely cared for you. He genuinely loved you, even if he didn't know how to express it very well.

Not many dared to hurt you after word spread of you being Sentinel's sparkmate, but the few brave ones who tried?

Disappeared without a trace.

"You rejected me? Me?!" Another one of your failed attempts at dating approached you one day, anger written all over his faceplates.

Your eyes widened, but you didn't have the time to react since he was already so close. His hands shoved your chassis, leaving a few scratches, and you tumbled backwards onto the ground. Also leaving scratches.

Everyone nearby froze. Not because your sparkmate was approaching, but because of the mere consequences this mech would face when Sentinel found out.

"(Name), why did I have to learn from Airachnid that you were harmed today?" Sentinel asked when he entered your shared berthroom.

"It was nothing," you told him, turning to face him.

He looked genuinely concerned, and you thought your optics were deceiving you. Until he inspected you upon reaching you.

"Scratches aren't nothing," he glared at the marks. "Who did this?"

You relented and gave him the name and description of the mech. There was no use trying to stop him, he would just find out from Airachnid anyway.

"Are you even going to tell me what you have planned for that one?"

"Let's go get you a nice new finish! Maybe my colours?"

You literally become his prized possession. All he asks for in return is your undying love and affection, which you already give him. Sentinel might seem self-absorbed and uncaring, but with you, his precious sparkmate, he's the opposite, and more.

[rottenpumpkin13]

Thoughts on Genesis being a parent?

So many!! I don't think Genesis would initially think of himself as the paternal type. Children would seem too mundane or confining for someone like him, who craves beauty, art, and innovation. He'd claim that his legacy is in his achievements, the pages of Loveless, or his invention, not through something as "ordinary" as parenthood. But the moment he becomes a father, his entire perspective shifts.

Genesis would treat his child like an extension of himself, like a blank canvas for greatness. He's indulgent, loving, playful, always engaging them in creative ways—reading them his favorite passages from Loveless, narrating stories in a dramatized way that makes them laugh. He'd play pretend games with so much commitment that his child might think he's actually a wandering knight or sorcerer.

When it comes to discipline Genesis would be firm but fair. He'd explain his reasons earnestly, but nag and tease for fun (this poor child would have to endure his wit)

Genesis: "My dear, must you sully your appearance with such mismatched socks? Have I taught you nothing about the art of presentation?"

He'd be an aesthete through and through, ensuring his kid's wardrobe is flawless, even if it means micromanaging their outfits—although he'd be big on self-expression. He'd spoil them with carefully chosen gifts: a handcrafted wooden sword for training, rare books with gilded pages....fire materia they definitely shouldn't have.

But at the same time, Genesis would have a nurturing side. He'd fuss endlessly over scraped knees or colds, wrapping them in the softest blankets and brewing warm drinks while reciting poetry.

Genesis: "Oh, my little one, a scratch such as this requires the utmost care. We wouldn't want you to be unable to wield your blade tomorrow, would we?"

*the kid says it's just a scrape*

Genesis: "Just a scrape? Do not diminish your trials, for even the smallest wounds tell a tale of valor."

When teaching swordplay + materia casting, Genesis would be both patient and demanding. He'd push them to surpass their limits while ensuring they mastered the elegance of the craft.

Genesis: "Your stance, darling. What did I say about balance? You cannot hope to strike down your foes if you look like a fledgling bird."

In conclusion, give this man a child.

[rainroses45]

Cherry Pie with Whip

ᥫ᭡description: Dean thinks there is not a single coherent thought behind those eyes, you prove him wrong ish Dean Winchester x Bimbo Fem! Reader ᥫ᭡a/n: I can't write the whole smut thing BUT I LOVE GIRLY POP READER SO MUCH ALSO LOVE THIS SONG SO VERY MUCH (Not Edited) ᥫ᭡song inspo: Every Man Gets his wish - Lana Del Rey ᥫ᭡warning: mentions of the devils tango

"Dean, I don't get it," you whined, your new glossy pink nails tapped against the table as you tilted your head, lips in a perfect pout. "Why does it have to be salt? Can't we just, like, use sugar or something? It's prettier."

Dean smirked, the corner of his mouth twitching as he stepped closer, his boots heavy against the floor. "Sweetheart, if sugar worked on ghosts, trust me, l'd be throwing cupcakes at 'em." His voice dripped with amusement, “next time you can add glitter to the salt.”

You smiled up at him, your top hitched up as you reached over to place your hands around Dean’s neck. He squeezed you closer to him, pushing your bosoms up.

“Have I ever told you how much I love cherries,” he gazed into your eyes. The fresh coat of mascara and the shimmery eyeshadow made you look like a lost innocent baby doe.

“We should go get cherry pie,” you smiled innocently, unaware of the tall older man starring down your shirt. Your cleavage on full display for his lust full eyes.

“I think I got something better here.” He smirked. “Something bigger and juicier to fill me up.”

“Oh yeah,” you smiled, “maybe we can get some whip cream on top?”

“Now we are talking, got to keep my blood sugar in check.” He lifted you up, your legs wrapping around his waist which caused his shirt to ride up displaying his delicious v-line. Your clotthed cunt rubbing against his abdominal instinctively.

Dean groaned as his hands squeezed your heart shaped ass. You laced your fingers into his hair steadying yourself from floating away from the moment, Dean noticed the fog begin to form in your eyes. “I wonder sometimes if there is ever a coherent thought behind those y/e/c eyes.”

You softly pulled the ends of your boyfriend’s hair in response, “hey don’t be mean,” you pouted.

“You know what I mean princess,” Dean kissed up your neck towards the sensitive spot that he knew would make you weak. You moaned causing your chest to rise further up Dean’s face.

“where did you learn how to be such a tease?” Dean mumbled in your ear nibbling at the skin.

“what does that mean?” You asked.

Dean stopped his actions to view your face, trying to figure out if you were actually joking.

“Honey, do you not know what tease means?” He asked to which you shook your head.

“Do you know about sex?” You nodded.

“Are you sure?” Dean asked again, “I don’t want to pressure you in anything sweetheart, you are in control.”

“I learned how to make love from the movies.” You blushed, hiding away from his gaze. Dean chuckled at your innocent response, before feeling guilty, had he known your level of knowledge on the topic he wouldn’t have been so forward.

“Aww sweetheart that’s nothin’ be ashamed about,” you still avoided his gaze, “why don’t you show me what you learned and I could help you out…wouldn’t that be nice sweet cheeks.” Dean kissed up to your face, trying to pry your hands away from his face. “Of course with your consent and approval it’s all up to you.” You nodded, still a little embarrassed from your previous statement.

Dean smiled fondly at you, “I promise to make you feel so good you’ll be seeing stars sugar.”

“Really?” You moved your hands away excitingly. “Just like in pretty woman?” You asked.

“Even better.” He pecked your lips. “Just say the words princess and I’m on my knees.”

“You’re so sweet Dean.” You blushed kissing his cheek. “How can I ever repay you?”

“I got a few ways but first things first I got to take care of my baby girl.”

[bossuary]

Neve is painless. Rook is real.

Lucanis likes Neve because she represents what he is desperate to regain. He wants to feel normal, to work and cook and focus on the things he used to enjoy (such as they were) before the Ossuary. He wants capital R Romance, right out of a book.

Most importantly, he wants to get rid of Spite. He wants to pretend that he is the man he was...not this abomination.

Without truly knowing her, Lucanis believes Neve is a pathway to all of that. He's attracted to her, and she to him. Their flirting has an edge, but it's also friendly. She dislikes Spite, and her presence makes Spite disappear.

Neve will tell Lucanis that he's still himself, and that Spite doesn't change that. She will never be the one to reconcile Lucanis with Spite, to get them to accept each other. So, yeah, he gravitates to the charming, flirty, warm person who (through no fault of her own, really) feeds his desire to pretend he's not an abomination.

Even early on, I think he's smart enough to know that accepting Spite is his only option, but he...just... can't. With what tools? Nothing in his life has prepared him to deal with this. Rook does that. When denial tears Lucanis apart, Rook puts him back together with acceptance. Rook accepts the reality of Spite, and deals with it head-on every time.

Neve will remind Lucanis that she's not going anywhere. She'll tell him to open his eyes and look at facts, but she (probably) won't be the one to push him out of his own prison. Lucanis knows this, so Spite knows this, and therefore Spite will not look to Neve for help.

It's important for Lucanis to accept that Spite has changed him. But when it's Rook who says it--for whom Lucanis has developed real feelings, not idealized ones--well, it destroys the fantasy Lucanis clings to so vehemently, the one where he isn't this.

For me, the Lucanis/Rook romance feels the way it does NOT because the writers "preferred" that Lucanis and Neve get together, but because Neve is simply easier for Lucanis to accept. She's easier to talk to, unchallenging. Easy isn't bad! Comfort isn't bad! God knows they both deserve some comfort.

Loving Rook is a profoundly complex choice. There's not a lot of cute ways to work that profundity into sexy banter. It makes sense, then, that Lucanis doesn't have as much dialogue for a romanced Rook as he does with Neve. What he can do is cook, make small gestures. He can, heartbreakingly, tell Rook, over and over, that he doesn't have the words to express how he feels. That's such an awful state, knowing that the person you care about needs to hear words you simply cannot locate. As soon as he does have the words, he shares them.

Rook is real. And real is not easy.

To Lucanis, Rook represents a difficult path to recovery, a path he has to keep choosing to follow, every day. At a time in his life where he is incapable of seeing Spite (and his own PTSD ) as anything but a 'distraction' to shove aside, Rook shows genuine interest in helping Lucanis heal. Rook takes consistent action toward that goal, particularly when it's clear that Lucanis doesn't know how.

Lucanis also has to believe that he's worth the effort, his own and his love's. Neve is great, love her, but I don't see this struggling cynic, this chronic worrier, being very helpful in the self-worth department. No, people in a relationship do not have to perform therapeutic roles. But, partners do have to respect each others' boundaries and needs.

Of course Lucanis goes all-in for Neve, romantically, even while he and Rook are dancing around each other. Accepting how much he loves and cares for Rook means looking at himself the way Rook does. That is so much harder than whatever will happen with Neve.

The fact that Lucanis isn't afraid to pursue Neve, even if Treviso is blighted, tells me that Neve is an indulgence for him. Again, that's not a value judgement. If they treat each other with respect, then the merits of the relationship don't have to fall on whether Lucanis 'heals' as a result. Sometimes not hurting all the time is enough.

BUT. Contrast the ease he feels with Neve with his feelings about Rook:

"When I was afraid to want you..."

That is a powerful admission.

What was he afraid of? The annihilation of neglect, worthlessness, and shame. The awful but knowable pillars of his existence.

Wanting Rook means that Lucanis wants to dismantle everything he knows in pursuit of something he doesn't. To love Rook is to love and accept himself, exactly as he is.

Then...then...Lucanis finds real comfort.

[cosmicanakin]

𝐓𝐄𝐗𝐀𝐒 SKIES & 𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐌𝐀𝐒 TIES

000. PROLOGUE ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ִ ݁ ♡ .

✸ 𝐃𝐄𝐂𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝟏𝟗𝟗𝟓; the first time you and jensen met.

PAIRING. cowboy!jensen x female reader ꒱

SYNOPSIS. in a stormy december of '95, your world shifts when jensen arrives at your family's ranch. what starts with an awkward meeting becomes something unexpectedly sweet.

WARNING(S). awkward first meeting | subtle flirting | hand-holding | jealousy | mentions of small town gossip | unrequited feelings | peer pressuring parents (?) | ranch work | storm preparation | self-consciousness | social anxiety.

kari yaps. hiii there, i feel SO soso happy n giddy inside, seeing all of u as excited as i am for this new series !!!! i'll try my best to keep up w it, esp this upcoming week for xmas <3 & if it isnt finished by then, hopefully by new years it is. HOWEVER, if it isnt done once the new year rolls in, someone yell @ me, i give u full permission !!!!! im crossing my fingers, though. n e ways :) love yall smmm <3

𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓. ୨ৎ 𝐉𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐄𝐍'𝐒 𝐋𝐈𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐑𝐘.

DECEMBER brought the kind of cold that made texas feel foreign. you weren't expecting company that morning, which explained your current state: sleep shorts, an old long sleeve baby tee that had seen better days, and crew socks that reached above your ankles. your hair was a mess, tangled from sleep, but you didn't care—until your dad's voice boomed through the house.

"honey, alan's boy is here to help with the storm prep!"

you froze, halfway through pouring your coffee. through the kitchen window, you caught sight of a red chevy pickup truck pulling up, and your stomach dropped. everyone knew alan ackles' son—jensen was practically dallas royalty when it came to ranch families.

"coming!" you called back, but it was too late. the screen door creaked open, and there he stood: tall, broad-shouldered, in worn jeans and boots, his green eyes catching yours immediately.

"jensen, this is my daughter," your dad said, clapping him on the shoulder. "sweetheart, this is jensen."

you wanted to die right there, especially when his lips curved into a slight smirk. "nice to meet you," he drawled, his voice deep and warm. "nice pajamas."

your face heats up in embarrassment. "i wasn't exactly expecting visitors at seven in the morning."

"storm's not gonna wait for proper attire, darlin'," your dad chuckled. "why don't you go get dressed? you're helping us today."

"what? dad, no—"

"actually," your mom chirped, appearing from nowhere like she always did when there was potential for embarrassment, "if you help today, we can hit the mall this afternoon."

you narrowed your eyes. "promise?"

"cross my heart."

yeah, you're never going to the mall.

twenty minutes later, properly dressed in jeans and boots, you found yourself trailing behind jensen and your dad toward the stables. the horses needed tending first—they were always priority during storms.

"beauty's been real fussy lately," your dad was saying. "might need extra attention."

"i can handle the horses," you offered quickly. anything to avoid more awkward interaction with jensen.

your dad nodded. "good idea. jensen and i'll check the fencing. don't forget to clean their areas too."

you watched them head off, relief flooding through you until beauty, your black mare, nudged your shoulder. "i know, girl," you muttered. "i'm a mess."

the next hour passed peacefully enough. most of the horses were being difficult—storm weather always made them antsy—but beauty kept them in line with warning neighs whenever they got too rowdy. you were halfway through brushing down the last horse when boots scuffed against the stable floor behind you.

"need any help?"

you jumped, spinning around to find jensen leaning against one of the stalls. "jesus, wear a bell or something."

he laughed, pushing off the frame and walking over. "your dad said to come check on you. more workers showed up to help with the heavy lifting."

"'m fine," you said quickly, turning back to the horse. "almost done."

"you sure? because that one looks about ready to bite."

as if on cue, the horse snapped its teeth, and you jerked back. jensen stepped forward, his chest brushing your back as he reached for the brush. "here," he murmured, his breath warm against your ear. "let me."

you stepped aside, watching as he effortlessly calmed the horse with a few gentle strokes. "show off."

"nah," he grinned. "just been doing this since i could walk. your ranch is different though. bigger than ours."

"yeah?" you leaned against the stable wall. "how so?"

and just like that, the awkwardness melted away. jensen told you about his family's ranch, about learning to ride before he could properly run, about the differences in how each ranch operated. by the time your dad called everyone in for dinner, you'd almost forgotten about your embarrassing first meeting.

your mom, ever the hostess, had prepared enough food to feed an army. neighbors started arriving, filling your house with chatter and laughter. you showered and changed, choosing a soft sweater and clean jeans, your hair finally tamed.

"movie time!" someone called after dinner, and suddenly the living room was full of kids your age, all piling onto couches to watch christmas reruns.

you tucked yourself into the corner of the couch, trying to take up as little space as possible. but then jensen sat next to you, his thigh pressing against yours despite the space on his other side. you tried to scoot away, give him room, but he just moved closer.

"cold?" he whispered, and before you could answer, his hand found yours.

your palm went instantly clammy. across the room, you caught daisy oliver's glare—everyone knew she had a thing for jensen, had been trying to catch his eye for months. you tried to pull away, but his fingers tightened.

"relax," he murmured, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. "this okay?"

you nodded, unable to form words, and spent the rest of the night hyper-aware of every small movement of his hand against yours.

the next morning, you hid in your room, avoiding the inevitable goodbye when his dad came to pick him up. you'd heard the rumors about him and daisy so holding his hand felt like crossing a line you hadn't meant to cross.

you didn't know then that jensen had never looked twice at her. didn't know that he had spend the whole ride home telling his dad about the girl in pajamas who'd caught his eye. didn't know that this was just the beginning.

𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋 taglist. @deanswidow @a1ecmcdowell @beausling @titsout4jackles @frosttbitessam @aileenunfiltered @deansbite @jasvtsc @fallbhind @ostaramoon @lacydollette @ultravi0lence14 @rubyvhs ◟ ☆ ݁ ⋆ 🏇 ˚⊹ ˖ ﾟ✶ ݁. comment OR send an ask to be added / removed !!!!!

𝐂𝐎𝐒𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐊𝐈𝐍 © 2024. ✶ please DO NOT copy or plagiarize my works.

[limeekak]

HELLOO TDP NATION I watched the season as soon as it premiered (it was 5am HELP) and now that things have become clearer, I want to comment on things I liked about this season!!

SPOILER ALERT !!

first of all, I want to start by saying that something I noticed was that the characters' interactions seemed more alive (I don't know how to explain it LMAO). Their interactions were perfect and the voices gave it so much life, I loved it so much!!

and starting from the beginning... THIS SCENE

Their reunion was BEAUTIFUL, it was EMOTIONAL and their voices, so confused and weak, were heartbreaking

i felt them, I was sad with them, I was truly moved. they deserve so much more :(

ezran, definitely my favorite character this season. His anger and frustration was so well done and evident, he seemed so upset with callum

I liked the way they did it, even making impulsive decisions like pushing Zym and want to go after finding Sol Regem

I liked how we still saw a "child" in him at the end of it all

I loved that we had more terry this season. It made sense to me that he went another way, but still tried to bring her back (what went wrong, what made this situation sad for me)

his interactions with soren were so fun!! and i would like to see more of them together and also soren, corvus and him, I would love to see this trio in arc 3! ANND also terry and ezran, I think they would have a cool friendship :)

terry is a very nice and sweet guy, i want more of him!!

NOW LETS TALK ABOUT SORVUS HEYWHEUW 👹👹👹👹 (sorry my demons

WHY DO THEY NEED TO BE SO SWEET AND PRECIOUS, damn, I envy their relationship (they have a relationship I swear, Harrow flew by here at my house and told me-) you can clearly see how much they care for each other, how CORVUS cares so much about soren, he is always there supporting him, I think that is BEAUTIFUL

from the moment of this scene I saw, thought and KNEW that corvus knew that soren kept that photo in his armor. I'm sure they know almost everything about each other

and let's talk about the beautiful reunion of ethari and runaan :))

I found it so funny runaan desperate to see ethari, the guy was crazy LMAO

I don't know if it was a reference to httyd, but the whole scene was so beautiful :) I didn't know I needed their reunion until Ihad their reunion

his and callum's dynamic also seemed really fun. runaan's personality was really something for me hejehehe

And that's it for now, I definitely had a lot of fun watching this season! Of course, there were things that bothered us but we shouldn't focus only on those things

let's talk about what we liked the most and promote the series as much as possible so that we can have arc 3!!

we can use this link to request all 3 seasons directly from netflix! let's make some noise on social media, arts, rewatch and recommend to friends so we can get arc 3!! love you all <3

[loganhowlettshousewife]

hi, i absolutely love your animal series and can not wait to read all of your diversity december fics but especially the one about an autistic reader! if it's something you'd like to write and/or something that you have the time to fit in would you consider writing a logan x autistic!reader who is having one of those days where their taste buds are all out of whack and he is trying so hard to find something that you can eat because he refuses to let you go to bed without food. maybe a bit of trial and error in their too, like he makes you something but you just can't eat it and expect him to get mad but he's so nice and gentle about it. thanks and don't worry if not 💛

logan howlett x autistic!reader

series masterlist - my masterlist

you may have a meltdown if this day gets any worse. all you want is to go to bed, to shut your eyes to the too-bright lights and fall into a slumber where you don’t have to deal with the buzzing under your skin. tomorrow you’ll wake up feeling marginally better, and you’ll move on as you always do.

but logan’s protective, obsessive about taking care of you, and refuses to let you go to bed without eating. usually it’s nice to have someone like him around, helpful when you’re often forgetting to take care of yourself in such ways, and it’s likely that tomorrow you’ll be grateful to him for feeding you, but right now you’re just tired and overstimulated.

nothing tastes right, your taste buds are all out of whack, and no matter what he makes you, you’re pretty sure it will only make you feel worse. even some of your safe foods aren’t sounding very safe food-y at the moment.

he’s wrapped a weighted blanket around you, turned the lights off in your shared room so that the only illumination comes from the open window, the golden glow of the setting sun. you focus on your breathing, in and out, the texture and weight of the blanket, the rocking motion of your body, back and forth.

there’s a quiet knock on your door, logan letting you know he’s returned, making sure he doesn’t catch you off guard when you’re in this state. he enters with a plate of food, one of your safe foods, and yet when you have the plate in your hands, when you have a forkful of food in your mouth, all you can feel is nausea crawling up your esophagus.

“i can’t,” you choke out, pushing it back into his hands, swallowing against the lump in your throat and pressure in your chest, “just let me sleep. i’ll be better tomorrow.”

he stands by your bedside but doesn’t come any closer, allowing you full control of the situation, letting you decide what kind of proximity you can handle right now. his eyes are so gentle, so understanding, and the kindness he affords you only makes you feel worse.

you wish he would shout at you, call you impossible the way your parents did, throw his hands in the air and tell you to deal with it yourself if you’re going to be difficult. his reactions are an unknown in a world that you thought you finally understood, and it scares you sometimes, how easily he breaks through your walls with his helpful nature and quiet admittances of somewhat understanding the way you’re feeling.

“you can’t go to bed without food,” he says, as if he doesn’t do it all the time. but he wants you to be healthy, never wants you to imitate his bad habits.

tears prick at your eyes, frustration rising in your chest, anger at yourself and at him and at the world and at your brain for being the way it is. he catches your hands before you can bury them into the skin of your arms, nails digging into the flesh, the only way you’re able to let out the volatile energy coursing through you.

“i’ll eat this, you don’t have to,” he continues, his thumb rubbing over your knuckles, “just tell me something you think you can eat. anything. it doesn’t have to be big or a full meal. and i’ll go make it for you.”

he’s too gentle with you, too kind, too understanding. it’s something you never thought you’d find in a relationship, not when you’ve been told your entire life that it’s too difficult to deal with your issues. but if logan’s willing to put in the effort, you tell yourself that you’ll try too, push yourself to be the person he thinks you can be.

so you let your head fall into his chest. he doesn’t touch you, doesn’t push your boundaries any further, just lets you rest there while you think, while you cycle through all your safe foods to find the least offensive of them. and when you whisper it against the soft, worn material of his shirt, he smiles down at you and says, “okay.”

diversity december taglist: @raeinyourdreams @meetmypointlessaddiction @chubbyhedgehog @yxtkiwiyxt @isepod @dis-plus-fanfic-reblog-writes @deaky-with-a-c

autistic!reader: @thegothempress @z0m3r-blud @yourlocalmerchgirl

[hellsslibrary]

Could you write about Hiori, Chigiri, and Bachira giving their male!reader boyfriend a blowjob? Maybe Chigiri thigh fucking... Hiori sadistically making you wait to cum, and Bachira with his feet?

Blow it, move it, bite it, ride it. Just come on, make a move on it.

#a.n. : I absolutely loved writing this, so it's okay!! And it's kind of implied that you're all in Blue Lock... I have no idea where the camera-less bedroom came from, so :).

!!Warnings: male!reader, dom!Hiori and implied dom!bachira, top!reader in Chigiri's part (kind of), blowjob (Hiori), footjob (Bachira), thigh-fuck (Chigiri), Hiori is a sadist, overstimulation (Hiori), Chigiri is a sass (like always), Bachira... A little strange (but in a good way as always, yea). And reader is a football player too. Purely theoretically, one can imagine that this is a strap (except for the Hiori part, of course), so anyone can read it, I don't care anyway.

Hiori Yo.

Your hand slides through the blue hair for the umpteenth time that night. You have an incredible, overwhelming urge to grab them and plant that face deeper on your dick, but no... You just can't. How many times have you been denied an orgasm? Three or so, or maybe you've lost count.

Only that smug face with those bright blue eyes glowing with joy knows the exact number.

"Yo... Am I seriously unable to cum, even after all this?" you ask, knowing the answer perfectly well, but just like in the past, smoldering with hope that he will break up and give in.

"No," of course he won't, Hiori has been mumbling around your cock, sucking on your thick shaft for the last half hour.

You practically growl in frustration, trying not to move your hips or anything else, because it will only prolong this torture. And all because of what? In training, you didn't score a goal from his pass, which made him angry at you. He gave you such a perfect pass, and you missed it.

"Absent-minded boys like you need self-control, don't you think?" Hiori asks, batting his long eyelashes at you, looking straight into your eyes with that innocent look, which makes you almost melt.

His hand moves rhythmically on your cock while his tongue licks your glans from time to time, sometimes gliding over the base and over the bulging veins. He was clearly enjoying tormenting you like that, watching the precum trickle down your head, which he rather licked off, slurping on purpose.

The bed creaks slightly under your weight, clearly not designed for two people, especially if they are muscular in one way or another. It would probably fall apart if you were doing something more active here, but you don't even want to think about it, considering that you have to explain it to the Ego.

"Please, Yo... I'll do anything, please, it hurts," your voice is quiet, a whimper escapes from your throat; Hiyori's eyes rise to you again and a smile blooms on his lips when he notices tears in the corners of your eyes.

"Whatever you say..." The football player mutters, leaning closer and wiping the tears from your eyes before they can roll down your cheeks. "Okay, I'll let you."

Your hips jerk as you are suddenly pierced by the feeling of his mouth around your cock. Not teasing. Not slow. Uninterrupted. And the persistent, rhythmic sucking of your length, which makes you feel like you're already in Heaven.

Of course, it doesn't take long for you to cum. In just a matter of seconds, the knot in your stomach unties and you cum in Hiori's mouth with a guttural moan, clutching his hair in your hands, pushing into his mouth for a couple of seconds, and then exhaling tiredly.

Yo straightens up, licking the droplets of your cum from the corners of his lips, looking at your peaceful face, and then suddenly squeezes your softened cock.

"You said you'd do anything, darling," the blue-eyed man whispers, ecstatically watching your surprised face... If you don't like the deprivation of orgasm, then you will have to accept your fate of overexcitation.

Chigiri Hyoma.

"Mmm, you're enjoying this too much, big guy" Hyoma says, as he stares at your barely present face as you fuck between his thighs.

You wanted to fuck him so damn badly for real, just slide inside those damn tight muscles, but you didn't have too much time until the end of the break, so you had to manage somehow.

"I'm sorry... You have juicy thighs, has anyone ever told you that?" you ask, squeezing his knees a little tighter, trying not to put too much pressure on his right leg, rubbing your cocks together with your movements.

"Yes, thank you. You've said that about eleven times, if I remember correctly. For the last ten minutes," he replies, shrugging his shoulders, looking at how your cock slides between his thighs, over his smaller penis, smearing the precum on your stomach.

His hands instinctively grab onto the sheets, and he moans softly, arching his back. Your cock perfectly covered his own length from below, perfectly rubbed against the head, touching the sensitive bridle. Your "waters" were mixed together.

"We have a training session soon, come on... Otherwise, they'll be looking for us. And they will definitely find us, considering that you don't even hide your moans," Chigiri cheers you on, squeezing his own hips harder, which even started to make a sound from how your cock bumped lightly against his muscular thighs.

"I'm sorry..." you mumble it again, just staring at Hyoma's stomach, where you could see your cock sliding in and out of his thighs.

He snorts, placing his own hands on your palms, which are holding him under his knees, pulling you out of your semi-trance. His red eyes seem to be staring into your very soul, still filled with their usual cocky sparkle, but now clouded with lust.

"What?" your voice is softly heard in the empty bedroom, followed by Chigiri's moan as your cock grazes the bridle of his own again, and he exhales, squeezing his eyes shut.

"Nothing, nothing... You're just drooling," the red-haired man whispers, and you see a drop of water from your chin land on the back of Hyoma's thigh.

... Well, maybe you enjoyed it a little too much. So what? You're a simple man.

You quickly wipe your mouth on your shoulder, pushing Chigiri a little harder into the bed, making his back arch even more and a moan escapes your lips when you feel a familiar feeling in your stomach.

"Huh... Come on, come on, come on. Let's get together, okay? I want you to come, please..." Chigiri whispers, completely unaware of how much more beautiful he is now with red cheeks and a face bathed in pleasure... But what's the difference, huh? Your pace started to become less rhythmic and increasingly rough.

The sound of tremors echoed more and more through the almost empty room, and there it was... White light behind the eyes, two male moaning voices.

Ka-sploosh!

Bachira Meguru.

"This is a fun position, you know?" Bachira chuckles in your ear as he literally hangs on your back, his arms wrapped around your neck and his legs resting on your cock, rubbing it lazily.

"Are you sure you're comfortable? You can always sit forward..." You ask as his chest presses closer to your back and he kisses your cheek long and hard with a smile.

"Thanks for caring! But it's okay, really... Let's give [Your name] the younger a little more attention?"

You moan, throwing your head back on Bachira's shoulder as he starts to move his feet a little more actively. One of his feet runs along the length of your cock, while the other lifts your shaft. How does he even bend his legs like that? Who knows these football players.

His lips slide down your neck, covering it with kisses, occasionally sucking on your skin, making you sigh softly in pleasure. The forward's feet wrap around your entire length, starting to rub it in perfect synchronization.

"Megu... So good, it's weird, but good," you whisper into his neck, inhaling his scent mixed with the light scent of sweat, considering you're both post-workout.

"I'm glad! And he seems to like it too... Or is it her?" Meguru is seriously discussing the gender of your dick... Oh, the things you put up with for this man, honestly.

Your hand slides behind you, supporting his hip, so that it would be at least a little easier for him. Although he doesn't seem to care, because his feet move and hold your cock just perfectly.

His toes deliberately touch your veins along the base or run along the head of your cock, his heels sometimes stroking in circles on your balls, which are getting tighter with each passing second.

Why the hell did you even think to ask him about this? You looked at some new dribble he came up with, and your brain switched off and you asked him. Of course, it's not surprising that he agreed, but fuck...

Who knew that his feet were talented with more than just a soccer ball, right? Your balls were also satisfied, it seems.

"Want to cum? You always can, you know," a sweet voice breaks you out of your thoughts as Meguru presses his heel lightly on your balls, causing you to twitch a little, causing him to smile even wider.

"Of course... You'll make me cum embarrassingly fast..."

"There's nothing embarrassing about it! You make me cum just as fast when...! Mhmhm!"

He lightly punches your chest as you push your head into his neck to shut him up and not embarrass yourself any further.

The feel and sight of his toes on your cock is enough without him saying anything. Your cock twitches in his feet, but he holds it expertly, continuing to rub your cock, as if his orgasm depends on it, not yours. Although it's the same thing to him.

"B-Bachi..." You whine, really embarrassingly fast cumming as your sperm drips down his feet and he kisses your cheek encouragingly.

And then he cries out as you fall backwards, pinning him down and he immediately pushes you aside, looking at you.

"Fallen asleep? He must have enjoyed it too much," Meguru chuckles quietly, looking at your sleeping face, and then covers you with the blanket, kissing your forehead. "Now, shower! Just don't leave marks... Or [Your Name] will scold you, Meguru."