#i wish to compress him

[hows-my-handwriting]

mmm some more of the goober >:3

he got a bit silly

also if any of you understand the gesture in the second one i immediately love you

[oneluckydragon]

"Suddenly the world was gray and dull and my heart was so heavy I felt like I couldn’t move, let alone make it back to Treasure Town. But because of Echo’s last wish… I was able to keep living.”

--- --- --- --- ---

SORA : (Partner)

Abilities: Justified / Inner Focus

Nature: Gentle / Hardy

Moveset: Aura Sphere / Metal Claw / Poison Jab / Dragon Pulse

[great-cats]

Is this too much to ask for??? He's such a guy.

[amplexadversary]

[mx-nada]

i like this guy a little too much

[st4rstudent]

centipede brian feels alot like glados from portal (in a good way) it’s probably the cocky smart attitude that lacks hesitation to mock somebody

they both love insulting! The difference is that Glados at least has something to back it up with.

[kaidanalenkosprmanager]

THE BEST OF ATTICAN TRAVERSE: KROGAN TEAM

Featuring: Cmdr. Sophie Shepard, Lt. James Vega, EDI, and Urdnot Grunt With: Urdnot Wrex, Dr. Mordin Solus, Primarch Adrien Victus and The Rachni Queen I don't need luck- I have ammo. Mass Effect 3: Legendary Edition (2021)

[sanduchengjiu]

Rip jiang cheng you would’ve loved Dogs 101, cognitive behavioral therapy, melatonin, and the decenter men movement

[wonder-worker]

"In reality Richard III invented a Woodville scare as a screen for his own conspiracy"

-A.J Pollard, "Richard III and the Princes in the Tower"

[lemonyinks]

I decided to combine all of my Robin and Ace posts into one. I wanted to put all of my thoughts together, change some things up and add on some additional thoughts that weren't in the previous posts.

Pretty long post ahead, so beware.

(The moment that each of them fully realized that they are loved).

I think about the two of them so often it's not even funny anymore. they're so different in so many interesting ways and yet so painfully similar.

The Son of Roger and Demon Child; hated by all from a young age for crimes they didn't even commit and feared for what people believe they had the potential to become, rather than what they really were. But the way the world saw them wasn't the only thing that they had in common. They also viewed themselves in a very similar way to each other, but handled it in drastically different ways.

Robin was stuck believing what she's been told her entire life, that she was a demon who didn't deserve to live and that her simply being alive was a sin or crime in itself. People treated her as though all her worth came from what she could do, rather than who she was as a person. If she wanted food, shelter, or even companionship she had to work for it, nothing ever came for free for her. Everything had a price. Not only that, but the second they learned of who she was, they would turn on her without fail. From a young age she was all but taught that she would be betrayed again and again no matter what. Trust wasn't something she was allowed to have.

And until she met the Strawhats, she had no choice but to believe these sentiments, because no one has ever tried to tell her otherwise. Saul's words were like a far off dream that she never had hope of obtaining. She was well and truly alone for more than half of her life. So, she didn't even let herself believe she deserved to want to live. She was ultimately a was too afraid to allow herself this hope. She was scared of being betrayed again by people she had grown to love. She would rather die in silence and leave behind the image of a cold-hearted killer than allow the crew to save her, because she fully believed that they too would inevitably betray her as well regardless of the amount of love she had for them.

But she does want to live. She wants to be happy and sail the seas, learning about everything the world has to offer. She wants to be part of a family, she wants to love and be loved in return. After joining the crew, after they went through all the pain and effort of saving her simply because they loved her, she finally allowed herself to be vulnerable and express her desire to live. She even goes so far as ask for as much, she begs to live. She silently begs to be loved.

She later even embraces her demon title and flips it on those who hurt her, allowing herself to be become a devil who can protect what is precious to her. She loves fiercely and is loved fiercely in return

As for Ace, he has been told since he was young that being Roger's son pretty much made his existence a crime and that he was incapable of being loved, just like Robin. He had to be hidden away since infancy simply because of who his father was. Like Robin, he internalized all of the horrible things said to him to the point that he found his own bloodline to be 'rotten' and questioned whether or not it was a good thing he was ever born.

He also embraced the title of monster, but in a very, very different way. He placed very little value on his life and even admitted with his dying breaths that he likely wouldn't have stayed alive as long as he did if not for Luffy and Sabo. He fully subscribed to the idea that he was a monster whose blood was rotten, had resigned himself to the fact that he should die because of it. He kept his self hatred under wraps and never really let anyone in close enough to let him know that they loved him. He loved deeply, so deeply that it hurt, but he never let the people in his life love him back. He didn't think he was even capable of being loved in return.

Unlike Robin, even in his final moments, he wasn't able to allow himself to feel like he deserved to want to live or be happy. Right to the very end, he didn't think he was someone worth saving. He's grateful for his family and their desperate attempts rescue him, but it he didn't seem to be able to wrap his head around the fact that he was truly cared for. With his last words, he thanked his family for doing something that should have gone without saying; loving him. In the end, he did accept that he was loved. He died with a smile, happy to know that he was loved just as deeply in return

Both Robin and Ace deserved to live, they both deserved to be saved. And they both had people who believed so too.

In Ace's case a whole army of people who believed he was worth saving, just because they loved him. Well and truly loved him, simply for who he was. Both Ace and Robin had people willing to declare war on the entire world just to see them safe and happy. Both of them are so deeply loved that it makes your heart ache. It's just sad that one of them only realized this fact when it was already too late.

I really think Robin and Ace would have gotten each other in a way no one else in the series could have. They would have been able to sympathize with and understand each other in ways others simply wouldn’t be able to.

[chaosinstigator]

yea no that hurt like a motherfucker

[screampied]

࣪.₊ 𐙚 SHE WANNA GO VIRALLL ?! ★

gojo, choso, nanami, toji, geto. cybersēx and getting freaky on camera with the jjk men

𐚁̸ warnings. fem! reader, camgirl/boy themes, phone sēx, unprotected, praise, dirty talk, toji slander, toy usage, hair pulling, guided órgasms, size kink, using a cóck ring on choso, squırting, òral (f! / m! receiving), voyerism.

𐚁̸. an. kind of lost in ikea rn so i wrote this yaya

TOJI ✩ FUSHIGURO.

“tch,” toji grunts as a third piercing smack hits against your ass. you let off a gasp as you’re just lazily arched over for him. just a few moments ago and you were leaking with globs of velvety ropes of cum. the powered on monitor you had propped up against the desk had a blinding bright glow to it. dark, viridescent eyes glance at your chat that’s spamming with donations before he squints. as he’s drilling you into your keyboard from behind, he clings onto your hip. “why the fuck does y’er chat keep callin’ me broke.”

“eheh, oh—” you swallow, feeling him reach in deep areas. indeed they were, flooding your chat with the same tiring jokes of toji. it was a common joke within your audience. as another moan leaves your throat rawly, you gnaw down on your lip. “they’re jus’ trolling, ‘toj. everyone knows you’re filthy rich, baby.”

itsnotchosover: girl who is everyone

sexymartha38: he's so hottttt. when is it my turn

drakesfatbbltbh: Dad? :0

with an eye roll, he resumes back to fucking you stupid. a being hand of his grasps onto your head, digging into your precious scalp. holding your head up, he makes you stare at your thousands of viewers with the dumbest expression glued onto your face. “bet all y’er little fans wish they were me, huh,” and there’s such cockiness dripping underneath his tone. toji’s fat cock has your mouth dangling agape—you’re almost drooling. it was so effortless on how you’d always coat his base with a translucent-colored ring. a pretty, soddened white ring that sticks against your ass each thrust he presents. it’s downright nasty, and yet—his hips were even nastier. as he’s got your hair with a firm secure grip, he lightly shoves you into the screen. moaning, you’re being pushed face first into the monitor—pupils glowing from the colors on your stream ricocheting against your dilated irises. “mhm, good girl. fuck back against me ‘n let these losers watch.”

of course—throughout everything, he’s catching all types of strays through the multicolored flood of comments.

toji could really care less though, a sly grin compresses against his lips before he makes you arch more forward. your back slouches over the wooden desk in such a sexy way that he can’t help but gift your left cheek with another rude spank. “f-fuuuck,” you’d sob out, trying to grab onto your mouse but he snatches your hand. with a quick paced speed, he makes your arm restrain around your back. significantly, he’s amping up his sloppy pace. your weeping cunt repeatedly squelches against him over and over and over. it’s never ending—profusely, your cunt’s idly dripping wet and the sounds just gets more addictive to listen to. that and the repetitive shrilling pings of your donations. aw, another goal met, it makes you smile with gratitude—and just as you were about to recite your recycled ‘thank you’ to your thousands of viewers, your breath catches in your throat and you whine. toji’s thickset base pap pap pap’s against you through and through and your mind’s just mush. not a single thought in your empty brain. “gonna cum, toji. tojiiiii, so fuckin’ big.”

“want me ‘ta slow down after you said i was small, yeah oookay,” and he’s just so sassy that you wanted smack him. that was practically true though. your chat told you to prank toji, telling him how he’s small. obviously, that wasn’t true, and here you were, feeling every staggering inch he’s presenting to your clingy greedy pussy.

a sopping string of your own slick sticks against his base each time—it’s sticky, he groans at the sight of it. a tongue of his flicks against the scar near the right side of his mouth and you wriggle your hips back into him. hissing at the almost sharp sensation between your thighs and your constant teasing, he yanks you back toward him. leaning up close to you, he licks a stripe down your neck before groaning. “sloppy fuckin’ girl, ‘m gonna get you pregnant on live. want that?”

with a sheepish whine pouring out of your throat, you grind your body against him, feeling the tip of his dick expand through every secluded crevice of your sweet cunt. “yeah, gimme a baby then. fill me up again, pleaseee.”

and as his pounding against your clit exceeds, so does your arch. the pace was almost animalistic. the chat’s spamming with comments, praising you and even trolling your expressions. your mind’s on a loop, with warm bodies clashing against each other, he groans into your ear. “fuck, gonna give you twins, girl,” and his voice was a mere pitchy deep. your limbs spike and with his rough hips, it allows a candied stretch to pry its way into your pussy. all from your girth, it’s almost delicious and you’d rate his dick five stars if you could. “shit, clamping all around m—” and before he could even finish his sentence, toji pauses. a roaring grunt rumbles out from him and he steadies your hips. not only does he shoot into you, but he gets a mean leg cramp. twitching ravened brows of his contort together and he quickly pulls out. it’s almost comedic, you stare at him through the reflection of your screen all while feeling his oozing hot cum spill down from between your thighs. hearing a giggle come from you, he grunts, spanking your ass. don’t laugh, little girl.”

“s- sorry, forgot you have skeleton bones,” you playfully rub your neck, peering your eyes at the dozens of comments trolling him.

“s— shut up,” he breathes, both hands on his hips. his leaky tip now flaccid and swollen, toji entraps his bottom lip with a teeth. exhaling out a tired whew, his eyes squeeze shut for a moment. “gimme a minute. er . . an hour, fuckk.”

and then as he tries to get up, a sudden loud crack in his bones occurs. “ignore that.”

NANAMI ✩ KENTO.

with a pout, you slump back onto the shared bed of your husband. it was near the afternoon—you knew he was busy, off on a mission or something but you missed him badly. it was almost painful at how you almost forgot what his touch felt like.

so you decide to text him. pulling out your phone, you scroll towards his contact with a heart next to his name. eagerly, you align your thumbs against the grey keyboard, squeezing your thighs together. starting off with a simple, ‘miss you baby,’ and awaiting for his reply. as you wait, you go back to playing with yourself. with your pretty legs all sprawled out, your fingers cramp up inside of your drooling pussy. shoved to the side of your thighs were a pair of panties nanami gifted you on your birthday. about four minutes later, he replies.

nanami: Sweetheart. I miss you too.

nanami: I need to hear your voice, call me yeah?

and without wasting any time, you dial those same known ten digits before pressing a thumb against the call button. on the first ring, he answers and he speaks first with a low, “hey you, how’s my pretty princess?”

“horrible,” you whine, still stuffing your cunt full of fingers. two slender fingers that were all soaked with your slick. it was a mess, your breathing patterns continue to change the more you imagine if he was really here. “i- i miss you, ‘ken. touchin’ myself ‘s so hard when you’re not around.”

“oh,” nanami says through the other line, his voice as smooth as silk. his absent presence only his fingers knew the exact layout of your pussy. nanami’s fingers were the pure definition of utopia—knowing all the right areas of your cunt with such ease. simply perfect. nanami was still on a mission, but he took care of his tasks. clearing his throat, taking a seat on a nearby bench, he sighs. “you’re touching yourself without me, huh sweetheart.”

“s- sorry,” you stammer, feeling yourself about to release soon. not before long, your thighs start to quiver and shake. “mhm,” you chew on the lower part of your lip, feeling your breathing shake up. “kento, talk to me please. help me c-cum, baby.”

“my wife decided to be filthy today,” he purrs, the sweet moans that escaped from your lips making his cock twitch. you were so loud, he’s always thought you had the prettiest voice. as you’re continuing to feel pounds of elation surge through you—you curl a finger inside, rubbing against your sensitive nub. “bring the phone up to her. wanna hear what she’s got to say too, my love.”

putting it up to your sopping cunt, you switch the phone to speaker. nanami grows mute for a second, listening to how wet you were. your fingers play and strum against your folds before you start to tremble. “k- kento, ‘m close, so close.”

“come on princess, listen to my voice, okay,” and with your back reclined against the cushioned mattress, you start to pant. your body feels limp, his voice was the perfect mixture of deep and a bit raspy—tender, each praise he gives you only makes you throb even more. “i want you to pretend you’re using my fingers,” and as he’s speaking, the tips of your fingers prod against that particular area. grazing against your clitoral hood, you nibble on your halfway lolled out tongue. “mhm, doing so well. just listen to me, play with her a bit more ‘n then let go sweetheart. let go just for me.”

gasping for any sorts of breaths—you whimper, two fingers getting lost into the depths of your pussy. it was a mess, a nice viscous amount of your slit departs from your digits as you pull them out of you before dragging them back in. “kento, ‘m cumming. all on your f- fingers,” you whine, imagining it was his thick fingers shoving in and out instead of yours. as you continue to whine through irregular breaths, the bobbing of your throat intensifies. “hnghh,” you babble, clammy fingers soaking in everything before you finally let loose. gushing out— it’s a lot. volumes of your sweet trickle onto the satiny sheets. a damp spot soaks its way into the fabric before you collapse back with a cute orgasm to follow. “f- fuck, ‘s good,” and your legs tremor vigorously. you felt like you were floating, everything throbbed and pulsed and your mind felt like it was racing at miles a minute. with an airy exhale, you put the phone back up to your mouth. “ken— you still there?”

“always,” he coos, his voice sending you various amounts of euphoric shivers. as you’re still letting go of your high, you can hear nanami’s raspy breaths through the other end of the phone too. he’s panting, almost as if he was actually there with you. “good girl, you did so good,” and nanami pauses for three seconds before whispering. “hm, i gotta go—but princess, send me a picture of the mess. i wanna see what ‘m gonna have to clean up when i get home.”

CHOSO ✩ KAMO.

it wasn’t really surprising to you that you found out your shy and timid best friend was a camboy. he was pretty well known—trendy and everyone’s favorite whiner.

pulling in thousands and thousands of views per month, he started to become a household name in the cyber world. choso was having a usual stream late at night, stroking himself off in front of his various followers. biting his lip, he tries to ignore the comments of his fans asking for him to try on his cock ring. “h- heh, if you guys want me to do that, you’ll have to help us reach our goal.”

and as soon as he says that, he reaches it.

with a frowning pout, choso’s lip quivers. “shit. nevermind then,” and as he’s fisting his own dick with solid pumps, a vein runs down his prolonged fat shaft.

he leans back, tossing his head back too—choso’s hair was unkempt and flowing down. he didn’t have his usual two ponytails today. ravened strands of hair go against his eyes and he lets off a nervous laugh toward his viewers. “ugh, s-so much for that. fine, i’ll use it for a little,” and then it dawned on him, the cock ring not only goes around choso, but it vibrates too.

as he’s just about to put the toy around his base, that’s right when you walk in. “hey, did you see my shower g-” and your jaw nearly drops once you’re trying to process the lewd view in front of you. so that’s what that noise was, the constant whining through the walls. choso’s reaction is an exact replica of yours. swallowing thickly, he’s still got his erect dick in hand, and it’s just so pretty. “oh, am i interrupting?”

“n— no,” he hitches a single breath, taking a moment to stare at your body. even dressed down, you looked so attractive. with a sheepish grin, he rubs a hand down the brief undercut that’s near his nape. he’s embarrassed, but it slowly goes away due to him being aroused. occasionally gawking at the chat, he does a hand motion with his fingers. “actually, since you’re here. i kinda need your help. please.”

“okay,” you giggle, setting aside your bag. you’re face first with his dick that’s standing tall right in front of you. it seems like he’s been stroking it for a while before stopping. the tip of his shaft was all reddened. a flustered pinkish pink. choso licks his lips and you stare at his neatly set up monitor. “hi chat,” you tease, and dozens of comments stare to flood, asking if you’re the girlfriend he keeps rambling about. with an eyebrow raise, you hum. “girlfriend?”

“sh— ignore them,” he grunts, and he grabs onto your arm. in a shaky breath, choso speaks in an almost needy whisper. “can . . i use your hand? sorry if that’s weird. you just- you have really nice hands,” and once you simper, giving him a nod, he softly grabs ahold of your wrist. choso couldn’t wait any longer, he didn’t really care if things felt rushed—with another lip bite, he hands you the plastic cock ring. “put . . can you put this on me ‘n stroke me off? mhm, ‘m close ‘n it might help.”

“ooh, a cock ring?” you stare at the toy in hand, a thumb feeling against the stretchy material. choso prepares to inhale once you stretch it out, playing with the buttons on it. your eyes briefly light up once you notice that it can really vibrate. oh, he was gonna whine for sure.

putting it around his dick, it flings a bit before you grab ahold of his base—it’s pretty, a vein runs down the very center and you can’t help but give his tip a little kiss. “mwah,” you smooch, even going far as to sliding your tongue against his sensitive frenulum. his tip was leaky, you taste a bit of his bitterly sweet precum before you turn the ring on its medium setting. once the whirring buzzes of the toy vibrates, you leer up at him. “mhm, ‘s this okay, ‘cho?”

“y- yes, kiss it more please. use your t- tongue,” and as he exhales deeply, his chest falters back. your tongue feels so good. with the mixture of added vibrations, he wasn’t gonna last two seconds. the maddening ringing in his ears was so high pitched that it was almost equivalent to tinnitus. whining, he grabs a fist full of your hair before you start to open your lips apart. choso watches with glossy eyes as you lower your head onto his length, taking him into your warm welcoming mouth. “mhm, such a nasty little t- throat,” and his voice cracks—even his attempt at dirty talk was adorable. choso then gawks back up at his audience, thousands of viewers praising choso for being so whiney, with a few comments praising how pretty you looked.

he never told you, but he told his fans that you were his girlfriend, every single stream. you were just his roommate, but he liked imagining you and him were together. a little fantasy of his.

your throat was a force to be reckoned with. it was warm and narrow, so perfect for his long inches. you almost gag a bit as he’s lightly pushing you back and down—yet he pauses every few seconds to ask if it’s too much or if you’re okay. choso was lengthy, a bit of girth and you were already slobbering on his dick. the constant teeth-shattering vibrations of the cock ring that’s wrapped around his base makes him whimper. “mphm,” you make a muffled noise, feeling him sloppily drag your head down back and forth. you’re trying to speak but choso nervously smiles.

“b- baby, don’t talk with your mouth so . . full, ‘s rude,” he swallows, feeling the inside of his throat become dry. and of course, choso barely lasts.

the pulsing in his cock only surges, and within minutes he’s already a mess—he ends up finishing early, shooting a whopping load into your mouth. it’s gooey and comes out in stringy ropes. it coats all on the back of your tongue and you’re slurping it all up. “s-so good,” he whines, and choso’s looking down at you with literal heart eyes dilating in his irises. with that throat of yours, he was already in love. he’s heavily panting, and he closes his laptop before making your bobbing head get off his length. with the cock ring still jittering against his length, he gingerly grabs you by the neck, pulling you into a deep, passionate kiss. despite its deepness, it was sensual. immediately, choso sucks against your tongue. half-lidded eyes staring up at you before he moans, tasting the remnants of his own cum on your lips. a free hand shakily rubs against your neglected cunt. “t- thank you,” he mewls, sable strands of hair sticking against his forehead. huffing out a single breath, he squeezes your cunt before making you wrap a leg around his waist. “i want more though. i want y- you.”

GOJO ✩ SATORU & SUGURU ✩ GETO.

with them both, they’re both major sluts.

it goes without saying that where there’s gojo there’s geto. in this case, they’d both be top camboys. fighting over the number one spot of being at the top. but as of now, they’d both be fighting between your legs. fighting over who can eat you out better.

they’d position their monitor in a good angle so that their thousands of viewers can see you with your legs all sprawled out.

“f-fuuck,” you whine, feeling each of their tongues clash and swipe against your saturated entrance. you were living every girl’s dream—as you ogle down toward your two best friends, you comb a hair through geto’s messy strands. with a tight yanking grip, you pull his hair up. “like that sugu, wanna feel your piercing more.”

“hmph,” gojo pouts, using a broad hand to pry your legs apart even further. you’d already came about four times. four times the two of them snatched out such dangerously pleasurable orgasms. with your head throwing itself back, you feel gojo starting to suck against your clit. gojo’s getting aroused himself. a free hand of his reaching down, creeping inside of his boxers.

the difference between gojo and geto—gojo was more of a clit biter, geto was more of a clit kisser.

where gojo’s sloppy sucks and slurps against your cunt would occur, they’d soon turn into playful bites and nibbles. “stop hoggin’ her, suguboo,” he grumbles, the cutest pout squeezing against his facial expressions. geto’s got a sly grin, feeling you tug all on his hair. as his face runs back and forth against your cunt, his chin pouring down with a sheeny slick of your slit, he kisses your pussy. a variety of smooches that makes you pulse right on their tongues.

“make me, pretty boy.”

they’d always bicker, always,

you’re struggling to stay still, squirming from the stimulation and it’s making your mouth water. you were sure they were gonna give you another orgasm within no time.

with your tummy heaving sporadically in and out at such irregular intervals, you let off a whiney whimper. gojo nibbles down against your cunt, and he suddenly pauses once he feels geto’s tongue flick against his. “eh. dude—”

“what, you want me to give you attention too or something?” geto shrugs, and you feel the long edges of his fingernails trace against your skin.

seductively, he gently uses the tip of his finger to carve into your leg, pretending he’s writing the four letters of his name on your flesh.

circling against your skin, he pushes his tongue in further before he’s nose deep—bedaubing all over and against your slick. “mhm, fuckin’ soaked for us.” and a thumb of his drags down your swollen, pulsing clit. your cunt continues to weep and beg for more, you’re so close—your orgasm was on the very tip of your tongue. you could almost taste it.

gojo’s still got the same pouty glower on his face as the two of them delve their twitching pink tongues into your cunt. hot, feverish breaths fan and aerate against your pussy before he cranes his head toward geto, mumbling in a cheeky tone. “you wanna kiss me so bad.”

“maybe i do.” geto rolls his eyes—and a dozen invisible question marks float over your head as your two best friends were literally flirting.

right in front of your salad—well in the case, right in front of your pussy.

by now, you’d all forgotten they were still live, hence the deafening pinging sounds of donations and notifications bringing you straight back to reality. staring down at them both, geto and gojo were still between your legs before they lean in to kiss. immediately, gojo folds before whining into geto’s tongue as the moving muscles dance amongst each other. for some reason, as they’re making out and still eating you out, it makes you throb. gojo’s pretty lashes flutter close, and they take turns with claiming each other’s lips and sucking against your pussy.

but that only lasts for a second or two—as they’re still having their lips locked, a hand of geto’s slides up gojo’s shirt, chuckling against his lips. furrowing your brows, it’s now your turn to pout. “um?? hello. did you guys just forget about me?”

[katsukistofu]

my caffeine mix-up!

contents ౨ৎ ⋆ hawks x fem reader. fluff. slightly suggestive. you accidentally pick up the number two hero’s coffee so picks you up instead. | pt. ii

You take a sip of your morning coffee and almost spit it out on your dashboard.

This could not be your order. It was so… unusually sugary. Too sugary. Like someone liquified a whole candy store and shoved it into a venti cup.

Still reeling a little from the overly sweet aftertaste that lingers on your tongue, your eyes trail down to read:

Vt Crml Crnch Frap

5 Banana

Ex Caramel Drizzle

Extra Whip

Extra Ice

Ex Cinnamon

7 pumps Add Dk Crml Sauce

Ex Caramel Crunch

1 pump Honey Blend

Heavy Cream

Double Blended

What kind of pretentious asshole orders this garbage? Were their taste buds dead?

You mentally sent your condolences to the poor person that had to make this disgusting monstrosity of a drink. Please, you would’ve taken one look at the order and thrown it in the trash.

Your eyes searched the paper cup for who your local coffee shop transgressor was– catching sight of a scribble in blue marker reading “H-A.” You moved your hand a bit to reveal a “W-K-S.” A sense of dread creeps in as you numbly stare at the squiggly heart next to it.

It was like someone slipped an ice cube down the back of your shirt.

You had mistakenly picked up the wildly famous winged pro hero’s order and to make things even worse, put your mouth on where his was supposed to be.

Okay that sounded kind of dirty. But it’s not like you could drive back and return it now, what with your lip gloss already staining the lid.

Hey, um, I think I accidentally took a sip of the Hawks’s coffee? Oopsies? You guess you could pay for his order to be remade, but who’s to say he’ll even come back for it, much less accept it from some random stranger?

You were already running late to your desk job as is, and your coworkers were probably scratching their heads, wondering where you were since you always arrived at least half an hour before them. Should you just throw it away and pretend it never happened?

Oh god, would some person dig through the trash the moment you turned your back and extract your DNA from your lip gloss on the lid, thinking you were a deranged fan who stole his drink on purpose?

Or worse—that you were his secret girlfriend picking up his drink who had just wanted a little taste first before delivering it to him?

Your brain starts to wring itself dry of all the possibilities that could happen, shuddering despite each one being as unlikely as the next. An impressive mental workout for an un-caffeinated person at barely eight in the morning.

You wish you never even went to get your usual little treat today. That barista definitely looked right at you when you went to pick up your order, you swear they did.

But now that you’re thinking about it, maybe they were looking at the person standing behind you that you didn’t see as you rushed out of the shop? How do you even miss a man with wings that big?

Something gently knocks on the driver side window and you almost jump out of your seat.

As you roll it down with caution, your brain momentarily stops functioning as you’re met with a pair of striking golden eyes. Another inch of tinted glass down, a strong Grecian nose.

Forget work, the hell. You didn’t even know noses could be that pretty, and as your last bit of window disappears into the car so does your self-respect as you realize he’s abandoned his usual tan-colored jacket, standing before you in his black compression shirt with gold embossment.

Forget everything, actually.

You don't realize you’re holding your breath until he laughs at you, and you sheepishly close your slightly parted lips.

“Didn’t know coffee thieves came this cute.” Drinking in your appearance his keen eyes stray from yours, slowly trailing down to your trembling lips, a stark contrast to the growing smirk on his. “Or this nervous.”

His fingers drum absentmindedly on the side of your car door, clear amusement written across his handsome face as he waits for you to say something. You collect yourself and snap out of your thoughts, taking a deep breath.

“I’msososorryIdrankyourcoffee!” You squeeze your eyes shut in embarrassment as your words come out in a jumble. “I totally grabbed the wrong order and I can’t believe I didn’t see you waiting behind me, I swear I’m not a creep–”

“Hey, hey,” Hawks gently interrupts you, reassurance laced in his voice. “It’s all good, no harm done.” He taps the paper cup that somehow miraculously hasn’t slipped out of your fingers yet.

“Sooo was it good?”

You choke on air, not expecting that. “Your drink?”

“Yeah, my drink.” He shoots you a cheeky grin. That bastard. “Good or nah?” You pause, contemplating if you should lie–no. No, today you chose honesty.

“...Genuinely, I have no idea how you drink this shit.”

Hawks laughs at your bold answer. “Thanks for being my little taste tester anyways. Too sweet, huh?” The tip of his finger traces around the remnants of your lip gloss on the lid, the cup still in your now slightly shaky hand as you nod.

His touch seared against your skin, as his pretty fingers closed around yours to raise the drink up to his lips to take a slow sip, eyes never leaving your own.

With a gaze that was infuriatingly sultry as it was sweet, like a bird of prey beckoning a field mouse to be their next meal, he murmurs, “Just how I like it.”

You’re not really sure he was talking about the coffee anymore.

He hums, and your thighs involuntarily clench a bit as his soft-looking mouth closes around the opening of the lid to take another sip.

“I’d say you’re a villain that deserves their own special category.” He grins, eyes sparkling conspiratorially. “One that involves letting me take her out to dinner.”

If you weren’t sitting down you know your legs would have given out. “Like… like on a date?” You gape at him incredulously. Because there was no way. Hawks. Just asked you out.

“Now sweetheart, what else would it be?” Hawks smirks at your dazed expression, like you’re sure you misheard him. So cute. “I mean, unless you don’t want to–”

“No!” He blinks, and your hand flies to cover your mouth at your sudden outburst.

“I-I mean, I want to…” You shyly say at a much quieter volume, fidgeting with the rings on your fingers. He leans closer to you with a grin, languidly resting his folded arms over the open frame of your car door.

“It’s a date then. I know this really good sushi and ramen place down the block near my agency, my treat of course.”

“If I’m a villain is this your idea of rehabilitation?” You joke dryly. “Because it’s working.”

He tips your chin up. “Oh don’t worry pretty, I’m just getting started with turning you into a good girl.” A hot flush creeps up your neck to your cheeks, and you almost melt into a puddle right then and there at your steering wheel.

“I’d love to stay but I’m actually so late for work right now.” You utter weakly, chin still resting against his finger. Hawks tilts his head at that, unfolding his vibrant crimson wings as he wordlessly opens the front door of your car.

With little effort and an impressive flex of his biceps, plus a sharp intake of breath from you, one of his arms slips under your thighs and another firmly hugs you just under your shoulder blades as he lifts you up to his firm chest.

A smirk tugs at his lips as he feels your flustered arms hastily reach up to wrap around his neck. Honeyed eyes like molten gold meet yours as he gives a gentle squeeze to your thigh through your pencil skirt, and once again you find yourself needing a reminder to breathe.

“So, where to?”

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“IS THAT FUCKING HAWKS OUTSIDE OUR COMPANY’S BUILDING?!”

say you can’t sleep, baby i know, that’s that me expresso~ ♪

[yawnderu]

Birthday Boy — Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader

content: mutual pining, idiots in love, fluff.

"Hey, big guy." You greet, pushing past him while holding a cake on your arms, setting it down on his desk. He simply gives you a confused look, eyebrows raising under the balaclava, closing the door hesitantly.

"Fucking hell." He mutters softly, arms crossing as he rests his back against the wall, his behemoth frame looking down at you as you steal a lighter from his desk, lighting the candles.

"I know you said you don't do birthdays but I just thought you deserve to have a day for yourself, so I kind of... gave you a birthday, I guess." Your embarrassment grows the more he stares you down, a bashful smile growing on your face when he says nothing. Your attention is grabbed by a deep chuckle coming out of him, shaking his head before he walks over to you, skull gloved fingers gently flicking your forehead.

"Why?" Is all he can ask, curiosity tainting his tone before he lets out a soft groan, looking down at the cake decorated with a messily written "Happy Birthday, Simon" and awfully drawn skulls all over. He wouldn't admit it, but he finds it even more charming.

"Just because." You reply shortly, hands making contact with the thin fabric of his black compression shirt, gently holding him by the biceps, guiding him to a chair in front of his desk where the cake was. He lets you drag him without any complaints.

"I'm gonna sing ya happy birthday, okay?" Your words are met with another groan, his elbows going to the table, face resting on his hands as if this situation is stressing him out. He eventually nods his head, looking up at you.

"Yeah, yeah." He mumbles, the fire from the candles making his eyes stand out even more in the dim room, the dark brown now a sweet honey color, showing you just how dilated his pupils are as he looks at you. You sing him happy birthday, making a small show out of it with claps and an overly cheery voice, dragging groan after groan out of him, the corners of his eyes creasing as he tries his best to suppress the smile tugging at his lips.

"Make a wish and blow the candles." You encourage after you're done singing, hands gently massaging his sore shoulders as you excitedly wait for him to comply. And he does, hesitantly getting closer to the cake and not doing anything for a few seconds before blowing the candles. A laugh of pure relief escapes your lips once the candles are off, tapping his shoulders gently before letting go.

"Good man. I made the cake, y'know?" You start cutting the cake, making sure to cut an extra big piece for him— with what little he has told you about himself, you can tell it's been a while since he got celebrated— If it even happened at all.

"I can tell." He replies teasingly, tone full of humor as he gets up and narrowly misses a punch thrown his way. He can't help but let out a small laugh, getting into a playful fighting position, pretending to throw a few punches your way and making a show out of making sound effects for each one. None of his punches connect, of course, but you use the opening he left to smear a little bit of frosting on his arm, making him groan loudly.

"Bloody hell." He grumbles, the cheeky smile you shoot him making him playfully roll his eyes. He eventually settles down, sitting in bed and lifting his balaclava halfway, tasting the sweet treat. He takes his time to savor it, nodding his head in approval as he looks down at you before digging in again.

" 'S good." He praises after another bite, attention now fully on the piece of chocolate cake on his plastic plate. You take this moment to admire the exposed half of his face— his soft jawline and thin pink lips, hints of a stubble covering his cheek and chin, a little bit of his eyeblack tainting his cheeks as well. You feel like a Victorian man seeing ankles, grasping at straws just to admire him.

He gives you a side eye and you look back down at your plate, starting to taste the cake as well, as if you weren't just staring at him like an infatuated hyena. You're too deep in thought to even realize his eyes are on you until you feel his finger smearing frosting on your nose, a laugh of pure disbelief escaping your lips.

"You little cunt—"

[luveline]

hi my lovely!! maybe bombshell!reader and spencer struggling to adjust to daily life after his prison stint? maybe he feels suffocated and an argument ensues?? i feel like it would be difficult to just get back to normal after everything that happened !! love you <33

love you!!! fem!reader

“You’ve always had terrible posture.” 

“What?” Spencer asks. 

You wrap your arms around him from behind. You’re more gentle than anyone he’s ever met, though you're teasing, whispering in his ear, “You sit forward so far you must get knots.” 

He’s immediately tense. You take little notice, your nose in his hair, your hand riding up toward his neck, which you spoil with soft touching. He tries to relax. It's all he wanted only a week ago, to have you holding him, to smell your perfume, the stick of your hand lotion or the traces of mint in your lip oil as you kiss the skin just behind his ear. But now it feels like too much. You’re never too much, not for him, and yet. 

“Ready?” you ask, bracing your hands against his chest. 

You pull him back until he hears a solid click emanating from the mid of his spine, and you laugh quite nicely in his ear. You’re his showful girl, but you’ve taken care since he came back to be careful. This is the cheekiest you’ve acted. His ears are ringing as your fingertips draw a path down his chest. This is a proper hug. His chest compresses tightly, he can’t draw breath. 

“Love you,” you say, kissing his cheek. You show no signs of detaching. “You smell really good. Maybe we can get some Indian takeout tonight and just stay all comfy and stuff…” 

He can’t answer. He wishes you’d stop touching him. It’s an unfair wish. 

“Does that sound okay?” you ask. 

He nods, hoping you’ll get off of him once you know the answer. When you stay, he shifts his shoulder and forces out a tight, “Yeah, that’s good.” 

“I love you.” 

He loves you so much it hurts to say. “I love you too.” 

“You’re not feeling okay?” you ask quietly. 

“I’m fine.” 

You climb off of him quickly. He knows he’s been too mean, worse when you say, “Okay,” in a tone like you’ve choked on something. “Uh, well, I’ll go find a menu.” 

You’re not one for filler words —it’s how he knows he’s thrown you for a loop. 

Spencer isn’t trying to be spiteful. He’s constantly overstimulated, he has been for three or months now, weeks and weeks of being in fight mode and now he’s home he doesn’t feel home, you’re here but he’s struggling to just accept that things are fine again. They don’t feel fine. 

He knows he’s lucky. He feels sick, is all. 

After a phone call he hears from the couch where you place an order for all his favourite mains and sides, you return to the living room of his apartment (of which you practically live in) and sit on the far side of the couch. Not too far to miss, but enough to betray how he’s made you feel. 

“Don’t sit so far away,” he says. 

“You’re being snippy, Spencer. Which is fine. But I don’t want to fight.” 

He holds out his hand. “Don’t sit so far away,” he repeats, preface to an apology. 

You shuffle across the couch on your knees. Spencer doesn’t want a hug, but he takes your hand and holds it to his chest where his heartbeat goes a tick too fast. Your frown softens as the bump of his pulse registers. 

“Sorry,” he says. “I don’t know what it is.” 

“That’s okay.” You’re lying at first, then not, “It’s okay, honey. I know you’re– I know this is still bad. I know I’m not being the most help I could be for you right now.” 

“It’s not like that,” he insists. 

“Well. Don’t be sorry. But please don’t say you love me if you don’t want to say it, Spence.” 

He could bite off his own tongue. “I feel like I can’t speak. I think I need to talk to Dr. Kelly tomorrow. I’m so anxious I feel like I can’t breathe.” 

He figures he owes you some honesty, but he’s wishing he kept it to himself when he sees the stricken look that lights your eyes. Your mouth turns to a line. 

Spencer grabs for your other hand. “I’m fine,” he says again. 

“Oh, sure.” You massage his fingers with your thumb on automatic. “You seem totally fine.” You lean in. “I don’t expect you to be fine, you know that? If you’re moody, that’s okay. You can be mad at me if you want, I think you deserve it. But I’m serious, don’t say you love me if you don’t mean it.” 

“I always mean it,” he says honestly. 

For a moment, you bite your lip, your eyes on his, and he worries he’s not as forgiven as he wants to be. 

“I’ll call Dr. Kelly,” you say finally, pulling your joined hands into your lap. “I want you to feel better, babe. That’s all I want.” 

He nods, lifting his chin for a kiss you give immediately. The suffocating feeling abates.

[anantaru]

⊹ ‧₊˚ ᰔ paint my skin red and call me yours

synopsis. ⊹ ‧₊˚ ᰔ your boyfriend scaramouche secretly loves it when you mark him up // ꒰ᐢ⸝⸝⸝⸝ᐢ꒱ ♡

cw. placing hickeys on kuni while riding him <3, marking up, whiny kuni, a/n. repost/rewrite from an old fic, fem! reader ♡

"hey, wait— don't do that!" it almost hurts when scaramouche tells you to please please please stop marking him up even though he secretly loved it yet was too proud to tell you.

you wish to tempt out every oh so little reaction whenever you browsed your teeth along his red dimmed skin, his face tinged with clear desperation— it's a lot shinier now too, laying down in front of you.

and those hot fingers digging daggers into your hips— the very ones that sweetly branded your skin with crescent formed shapes as your body worked up and down in expressing motions on your boyfriends erection.

"you don't like when i do this?" a mutter crosses your lips when his world spins harder the second you drag your soaked cunt down, your walls trapping his shaft inside a tight, wet compression.

right now, kuni feels like his cock was about to explode, the sensations you were capable to coax out of him were bone shuddering, although he's careful to lock his whines behind sealed lips and clenched teeth.

even now, as you're riding him into the mattress hard, he still attempts to grasp onto any kind of control, hilarious, really.

"no.. i do, fuck, i love it," he almost whines, then moans, "but, j-just—"

scaramouche truly couldn't wait any longer nor does he know how to elaborate himself anymore— how does one tell another that it's actually driving him fucking mad when you claim him like that, when it's you for once pressing hickeys on his body until he's wholly coated and sticked up with red splotches and messy saliva stains.

perhaps he thought being in denial was the right way to go, but another moan spreads past his parted lips and you continue your work proudly, swallowing down the haziness of pleasure as you claw yourself on him, your pulsing walls slicking up his girth as you're repeatedly shoving your hips into him.

scaramouche secretly enjoyed himself and so did you, especially how fine and skilled your pussy was sucking down on him tonight— his cock swelling while the pre stacked up in you, rubbing back and forth his stiffened member as the echoes of lewd sounds loaded the air with fine lined electricity.

"fuck— fuck, please do more!" it's over now, "do one more.. o-on my neck," and his voice had bundled up enough courage to step up a confident octave, "do more of this, please!"

he begins to frantically rut himself upwards your warmth in needy smacks, hands urging along your shaking thighs as he was slapping himself so far up your warm cunt that you're certain you're about to release on him as well— yet the thought, that little inkling that he would fill you up with his creamy cum made you hold onto it a little longer.

just so you could climax together in the end, the hot wave of kuni shooting you full of his sticky cum certainly had your sweet pussy drool all over him, messily, until your lower half was shuddering and all sore of him.

©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify