#sloppy writes

[slopofpaws]

~I'm so tired of my phone not working~

OK I tried to answer an ask. Four times. And it went to my queue and I thought ok, just copy and paste and delete it.

Well.

It deleted the ask from my inbox. It deleted the draft. And it didn't copy all of the text I had written.

I cannot recover that ask, I can't recover the message I wrote.

So. Let me make a reminder to write a post for tomorrow because I can't do it again tonight.

If you were the person who asked me, I hope you get some good content out of what I can give you. I had something really good going, and I'm really pissed that I lost it even though I did everything right.

I want to publish and put my stuff out on tumblr so I can start building a community around my story and characters that I'm decently proud of. I'm just too much of a pussy to share it with everyone because rejection sucks!!

I'm very burnt out as well from college and trying to make ends meet a bit, so I'm just exhausted.

Happy holidays guys, hope I can give you something good soon!

[deunmiu-dessie-sideblog]

was just thinking of price punishing his younger gf, by having her naked body pressed to the floor, and her ass perched in the air, just a few feet in front of his desk. he nudges her knees apart, so he can get a better view of her pussy. and he just goes about doing whatever the fuck he does, and he has her there for hours-- her knees aching and back sore from the sharp arch that he's put her in.

john looks up from a piece of paperwork, and he can see the way her pussy flutters; see the way her stomach heaves softly, the soft pushing movement making her pussy leak; juices pooling from her hole, down her swollen folds, and then to her inner thighs. she's creamy and slick; literally dripping onto the carpet, and john is suddenly salivating. and she's been a good girl, no complaints and minimal whines and pleas-- that he can't help but push back from his chair, knocking it over in his haste to get to her.

she's too out of it to really comprehend what's happening before she's mewling out, thighs quivering almost violently as his tongue is suddenly thick and hot against her pussy. john swallows down her slick like a man starved, each curl and pull of his tongue full of her cream, and he rumbles deep in his chest like some kind of beast. his large, meaty hands grip the fat of her hips almost bruisingly as he devours her quivering cunt, her taste has him feral. she babbles mindlessly, her eyes rolled back; clit fat and stiff in his mouth.

and it takes him an hour or so to finally pull away from her pussy; she's a pile of overstimulated flesh, her plush little mouth parted and saliva dribbling down her chin, she looks like she's going to pass out but the only thing john does is push his thick, long cock into her pussy and fuck her into the carpet, her knees sliding and burning. this was a punishment after all.

[tojisun]

so obsessed with the “my cock is big so it wont fit” / “try me” relationship dynamic ughhhh thinking about this with simon and reader, and how reader’s desperation made them spiral, makes me so giggly

thinking about the way you finger yourself everyday to stretch yourself out for simon; preparing yourself for him. practicing for him.

it becomes a routine; it was mundane, almost, but every time the thought that you’re doing this for simon slithers its way back to the forefront of your mind, you lose yourself—doused in the tendrils of your desire, so powerful it has you clenching on your own fingers.

they never hit deeper, never stretch you out wider, but they scratch the itch to be stuffed and manage to satiate you long enough for the next day to roll by.

it’s a lot worse when you meet up with simon because your core throbs with need, leaving you crossing your legs to give yourself that muted relief. but it’s never enough, is it?

simon’s right there, voice thick like molten lava, viscous as it washes over you. “are you alright, love?”

and you lie, gritting your teeth and clenching your fists tightly, telling him that of course you’re fine. because what else can you say? “i dream of your cock so much that i fuck myself everyday as prep”?

if you do say that, simon won’t ever let you live it down. so you stay quiet, crossing-and-uncrossing your legs at every of his deep laugh or gentle crooning, trying your best to ignore the way his palm squeezes the muscle of your thigh. you wonder if he’s doing this on purpose by now because there’s no way simon actually does naturally talk like this—

it’s all teases and taunts as a whirlpool of petnames dribble from his quirked-up lips. he calls you, baby and darling. he calls you sweetheart and lovie. but then he also calls you pup, doll, pet—anything that makes you gasp, and quiet puffs of breaths wheeze out of your trachea in your own stupor.

“you seem distracted,” he murmurs, his voice a worried croon.

“uh-huh,” you say, not really listening, because simon’s hand is climbing up higher and higher on your thigh.

simon notices your stare, because of course he does, then does…

nothing.

he drops you off to your place that night, and leaves a kiss on your forehead before driving off. you watch from your living room window as he disappears from your line of sight before clambering towards your room, tearing your pants off your body and chucking your little slip of underwear behind you as you do so.

you sink into your plush mattress, knees braced by your softer pillows, before reaching behind you to plunge yourself with your fingers. two of them slide in easily, and you crook them just right until you’re mewling. moaning. crying.

simonsimonsimon—

your orgasm is a sharp rip of euphoric release. but the tidal wave of your ecstasy wafts off into its remnants just as quick because this, fucking yourself, isn’t the fix you want. it isn’t the fix you need.

(that said, making simon buckle was a lot easier said than done.)

you parted your legs yourself, planting your hands on the underside of your thighs to pull them open for simon. simon laughs when he saw this, his pale cheeks so flushed with his own desire.

“hurry,” you whine, all choked-up with your desperation, and simon only croons a warning.

“we need ta’prepare you, pup. i’m too big f’r you.”

his acknowledgment makes you leak, your wanton thoughts turning into slick that gushes out of you. simon laughs, so utterly endeared.

“i prepared myself, si! please put it in!”

simon sighs, crossing his arms over his chest. “i thought you wanted my cock?”

he waits for you to nod. you do so, careful, as your wet eyes look up at him.

“hmm. so listen to daddy, yeah?”

“okay,” you mumble, too overwhelmed to fight back.

simon smiles, murmurs his praises, and then he’s bringing his head between your legs. you squeak, surprise dotting your vision. you expected simon to prepare you, yes, but you expected his fingers—long, rough, thick—and not his tongue—

“siii-monnnn,” you keen, legs buckling from your hold until they tumble to his back, your strength getting zapped out of you at every lap of simon’s tongue.

it’s so good! so, so good!

simon takes over, hooking your legs over his shoulders himself as he burrowed deeper, nose grinding against the sensitive underside of your sex. his tongue pushes against your walls, sliding between them, and then simon sucks.

fuck! fuck—

sorta pt 02

[fruity-phrog]

It would piss Gwen off so much but I imaging Alice and Sam would "yes, and-" an entire universe based off Chester and Norris while Celia sits back in silence at how right they are

[andersonfilms]

you love when abby makes love to you, god, it really is the best feeling in the world. she’s sweet on you like honey, her lips explore every inch of your skin getting addicted to taste of you. she kisses you soft, deep as her velvet tongue invades your mouth. you moan into her mouth running your fingers through her hair, pulling at golden strands tenderly. abby could do this forever, kissing your pretty plump lips as she has you to pinned to her bed with wide hips.

she doesn’t really like using her strap, not when she wants to be close to you. abby likes to feel your pretty pussy on hers. it feels better than anything in the world. it’s when she feels the most connected to you. she always starts off slow, looking down at you with the like you’re the most precious person in the world. abby likes the sharp intake of your breath as she bends over, placing her forehead against your own, long hair cascading over you like a mesmerizing waterfall. you fingers wrap around her throat applying enough pressure for her to let out a deprived moan; one only you could pull out of her.

“i love your pussy so much, baby. always so perfect for me. such a good girl for me. i love you so much. never want anyone else, always going to be you.” abby flexes her thighs as she fully sits her cunt on yours, her pussy clenching. her clit throbbing in delight as you roll your hips upwards.

the muscled beauty picks up the pace, abby meets your thrusts as your wet slick combines with hers. it’s music to her ears, hearing how much you love this. how much you love her. abby bites your earlobe gently before she starts talking you through it. “wanna by my good girl? huh? do you? come for me, babygirl. need to feel you. god, it’s all i thought about today. your cum dripping all over my cunt, maybe even on my thighs a little bit. could you lick it off for me, baby? yeah? s’all i want. can you give me what i want, angel?”

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

but i crumble completely when you cry . .

katsuki comforts you

katsuki bakugou hates a lot of things

he hates people who walk slow, he hates people who chew loudly or people who talk loud in places they know damn well they shouldn’t.

he hates when people walk on the back of his shoe and he hates idiots like kaminari who talk during movies.

but most of all, katsuki bakugou hates seeing you cry.

it sparks something in him, something red, hot and so angry when he finds you in your dorm. tears running down your cheeks that show no sign of stopping. he hates it even more when you make eye contact and you curl into yourself even more from where you’re sitting on the floor.

katsuki immediately decides this is the thing he hates the most.

he’s on you in seconds, kneeling in front of you, searching around to get a peek of your face hidden in your knees. he places his hands on top of yours where they’re wrapped around your legs and his chest tightens when you flinch a little.

“ who was it ? who did this to you ?” he can’t recognize his own voice, his words come out so fast he barely registers what he’s saying.

you try to speak but nothing but more broken sobs and shaky breaths come out as you desperately try to catch your breath and katsuki realizes that you talking isn’t a priority right now.

his eyebrows are furrowed and he almost looks angry but he’s so, so worried. if anything, he’s angry at himself for being so helpless, for not being able to help you in a time where you clearly need it.

he grabs your shoulder softly and the weight his chest lightens slightly when you lean a little closer to him, before letting him pull you tightly into his arms

“breathe for me.” he utters softly, voice gruff and gravelly. he never actually talks this softly unless he’s around you, the difference is so stark it surprises him a little bit but he’s got more important things to think about. praise spills from him occasionally, muttering a “you got it. i got you” into your ear before pressing a kiss to your temple.

katsuki’s never really had to comfort anyone, he’s never felt the need to, but you’re not just anyone. your different, you’re his. his love his everything and he’ll be damned if he didn’t try his hardest for you.

you’ve calmed down a little bit, he noticed. you’re breathings calmed down a little and your sobs have been reduced to snivels. the tightness in his lungs is still there, but it’s less now.

“what’s goin’ on with you, hm ?” you’re grip tightens on his arm and you shove your head deeper into his chest. he moves his head away from your shoulder so he can place two small kisses on the top of your head

“talk to me, baby. needa know what’s up with you.” he pleads into the crown of your head. you sigh before speaking up.

“ i don’t know what’s up with me i just- it’s nothing bad i’m—” you’re desperately searching for the right words to use so what you’re about to say makes sense. “i just don’t—feel like myself today. i don’t know why, i just feel really bad today.” you let out a humorless chuckle and your voice dies out when you finish “m’sorry if i worried you” you sniffle.

he shushes you, his grip on you tightens when he hears you whimper “don’t..don’t fuckin’ apologize to me, got no reason to.” he spits. he sounds angry, and he is, why should you ever feel the need to apologize for feeling some type of way around him ?

“s’okay for you to feel that way..i do too, sometimes, you know ?” he knows you do. he knows you do because there are times where he comes to your room in tears, shaking and panicked. completely and utterly lost from the nightmares that had plagued him minutes before but knowing he had to come see you. you were there for him every time, gently soothing him and assuring him that he’d be okay. he owed it to you to do the same for you.

“s’okay to feel like shit sometimes, happens to the best of us.” he whispers “ but you can always come to me when you do, can deal with it together. an’ don’t go thinkin’ yer ‘bothering’ me either.” he says, parroting what you had just told him. “we’re together for a reason, dummy.” he’s soft spoken and his voice is so mellow despite his harsh little nickname for you, you could’ve missed it if he wasn’t sitting so close to you, it makes you a little dizzy and a little weaker in you’re already mushy knees.

he grabs your shoulders gently to get your eyes on him. they’re still a little glossy but they’re a little less dull when he looks at you “ we’re in this together, always have been, always will be, got it ? “ he asserts, waiting for your response. and then you smile at him, it’s faint but it’s there and katsuki feels like he can breathe again. he smiles back softly at you when you respond with a soft “okay.”

you suddenly grab onto him and pull him into you tightly, locking him in a tight embrace and squeezing like you’re pressing a lemon. it throws him off for a second before he’s squeezing you just as hard, pressing your body against his.

“thank you, katsuki. you’re the best” you hum. he presses a long lingering kiss to your temple as response, before squeezing around your waist “ course i am.” he gloats. the smirk on his lips grows when you snort in response “what’re you laughing about, hah? don’t think so? don’t think i’m the best ?” he jests, using this as an opportunity to tickle you mercilessly. you kick and squirm but it’s no use, katsuki doesn’t stop until you’re a heaving , giggling mess. tears in your eyes as you plead and beg for him to stop but he doesn’t let up even when you’re laying on the ground with him on top of you.

“ i ain’t hearing what i wanna hear, you know what i want from you, baby.” he chuckles at the way you desperately gasp for breath, choking on your own spit in the process.

“y-you’re the ! the best, ‘suki ! the b-bestest of the best !” you gasp out, pushing blindly at his face to get him away from you and he finally let’s you go. “felt nice enough to let you off with a warning, won’t end well for ya if you try me again.” is what he says, playfully warning you and waving his finger around in your face. you’re completely out of breath, there are tears in your eyes again but they’re happy tears this time and you still can’t stop smiling and giggling as you try to bite at his finger and katsuki is more than happy with this.

because katsuki’s favorite thing is your smile.

[whatthebodygraspsnot]

ian and mickey mature and make peace with the fact that their respective mental illnesses/emotional intelligence fucks with their body awareness sometimes. it's just a thing they're working on. but they do it together - using that knowledge to help the other person when they're going through it.

mickey will crash on the couch next to him, slumping and mumbling "feel like dogshit," and ian will do a little cursory glance before asking it.

"you know what kind?"

"uh uh. just feel bad."

and then it's like clockwork. they go through it enough that they might as well get a book bound and place it on their mantle to refer to. if they weren't so good at it already, that is. "body bad, or brain bad?"

mickey takes a second to himself. silent and unhappy. then, "body."

"yeah? feelin' sick?"

a shake of his head, but then a grimace. like that was too much movement. "head hurts."

something ian can work with. he scoots closer to his husband on the couch, experimenting with a little brush of his fingers over the back of his neck. "don't think i've seen you drink today..."

"just had a beer."

ian huffs a little laugh. "meant water, mick..." the fact that mickey moves closer to him is a good sign too. "your lower back hurt?"

another self-assessment. then, with heavy, suspicious eyes that peer over at him, "how the hell you know that...?"

ian grins softly. bingo. "s'your kidneys." an easy fix this time around. "you're dehydrated, baby."

"mm."

"and grumpy." but water will probably fix that too.

ian gives the back of his neck a little squeeze and then grabs him a glass of water from the kitchen, dumping a Liquid-IV into it (just the lemon-lime one - the only one mickey tolerates)

he loves an easy fix. they aren't always this way. but even when they aren't - even when it's him on the other side, they always get through it together.

[cabinette]

I've been feeling a little weird in my own skin lately, so i projected my thoughts onto the Touden siblings

[martyrbat]

[ID: Bruce Wayne and Minhkhoa Khan fighting in the snow. Minhkhoa kicks Bruce in the chest as his dialogue has been edited to be a post by @/electrificata. The post reads: “i am NOT gaslighting you. i am lying to you. gaslighting implies a level of effort that i am simply not putting in. deceiving you does not require much”. END ID]

[dootznbootz]

Me, trying to unlearn shame and stop being a perfectionist:

[slopofpaws]

self-doubt (rant)

Hi

I feel pretty useless. Can’t do my homework, can’t function like a normal human being aka I can’t eat without being sick after, can’t remember anything except stuff that makes me anxious/sad, I can’t draw well, can’t write anything that I want to have written by now (the first couple chapters of my fanfic)....it just feels like an endless loop. 

I constantly feel off. 

I don’t know how to describe this feeling of being “off”. Is it my medication? Is it anxiety of the end of the semester approaching? Is it because I feel alone- isolated from friends and family even though they’re within my reach? 

I was just with two of my IRL friends that I adore very much, but I got food poisoning when I was with them and everything was ruined. My spring break was ruined by stomach issues that I’ve been having for THREE YEARS at this point, and my doctor only now scheduled me with a GI. I don’t know what to do about that until I go there in May, so here I am with my medical grade TUMS and watching what I eat. 

Come to think of it, I haven’t had a proper sob session in a couple months, but every time I try to do it I can only get a couple tears out and that’s it. Does anyone know what that means? I looked it up and it says medication can be a cause of that so I’m gonna go with that unless someone has a better explanation. 

All I ever do is watch videos on my phone, try to draw, go to school, and attempt to hang out with friends so I can feel better- but as soon as I leave them I feel bad again. However, as I’m hanging out with them I want to go home because I have a headache or some form of body problem. 

I constantly feel useless, like I’m not going anywhere, all that BS. 

anyway, sorry for taking up your time if you wanted to read this. I want to thank you for taking the time to read this if you did, and I just want to let you know that feeling bad doesn’t last forever, even if it feels like it does

[deunmiu-dessie-sideblog]

john price is a loving man. john price is also a man who loves holding you in his arms, fight me if i'm wrong. since he's usually away from home for weeks, even months at a time, whenever he comes home; he drops to his knees and buries his face in ur tummy to hug u, all while ur hands run through the soft tufts of his hair.

john price, even after fucking u like an animal in heat, thick cock bruising ur cervix, and having his skilled tongue pull orgasm after orgasm from u, is a touchy man. he pulls u into his chest and asks softly about the things that have happened since he's been gone, thick fingers brushing through ur hair. he's particularly fond of ur newfound dislike for the next-door neighbor.

[connected to this post!]

[tummysmoocher]

Imagining him sitting on a couch under me, moaning and trying to stifle burps. He can ask me to stop but he keeps eating anyway, taking everything I put in front of his mouth. His shirt is pulled up and resting on his bloated tummy, his jeans undone and framing his lower belly perfectly. Weakly letting his head fall back as he rubs his stomach with one hand and runs the other through his hair. How I would get on my knees between his thighs just to kiss his belly everywhere, pulling little whines and gasps from his lips, my teeth nipping at the soft spot of underbelly below his navel. Enough to drive me crazy.

[teastainedprose]

Homelander x fem!reader

First time Homelander cums by dry humping with clothes on

It's you. It's you, it's you. It'syou, itsyouitsyouitsyou. He finally has you in his arms, your mouth against his own and he can taste you and your scent is overloading his senses and the sounds you're making and and-

And it's all Homelander can do to keep from devouring you. He's been so good, waiting for what feels like years even if Homelander has only known you for a month at max. It's been torture, behaving and keeping his hands off as to not spook you. You're so skittish, always on high alert around him but now?

Something finally snapped within you. You'd pounced him. He's over the moon because of that. Now you're all his and Homelander refuses to let you out of his hold.

This close, your scent fills his nostrils as he inhales deeply. It's euphoric, your smell paired with how yielding and willing you are in his arms. The needy noises he coaxes from you makes his cock twitch, craving the sensation of being buried in you. In the warm, wetness that he knows will undo him. Even the thought of that sets him aflame.

Homelander moans against your mouth, the kiss becoming sloppy as he's intent on tasting every crevice within your mouth. He can't get enough, will never get enough and Homelander knows he's lost. Lost into the sensation of you grinding down on his lap, just as desperate as he is.

A whine escapes Homelander as you work yourself off atop him, the friction just enough to send jolts of pleasure through him. He knows pre-cum is smearing the cup within his suit, staining the red briefs and making a mess of everything. It's a mess that should be smeared on your inner thigh as you continue to ride him.

It's delicious and a little embarrassing, the two of you pawing at each other like teenagers as you continue to kiss. Your hands are raking through his hair, clawing at the front of his suit while he keeps a vice grip on your thighs, kneading the supple flesh there as he encourages the rock of your hips against him. Homelander can't even bring himself to try and strip you because the desperate pleasure of it's too much and he can feel himself racing closer to that edge.

-and he should stop, stop you and relish in this moment with you because you two have all the time in the world and you're something that should be savored. Yet Homelander can't stop himself nor the building pleasure and it happens before he even realizes himself.

Homelander groans, hips twitching under you as he spends himself in his pants. Now that mess is far worse because you grind yourself down on his still hard cock as it twitches.

He opens his eyes, heat vision burning there as he stares up at you because you have to know what just happened.

"M'sorry, I-" he starts as you tap your finger against his lips to silence him.

You're as smug as can be, hips rolling as you grin down at him. That pulls another groan out of Homelander, his eyes almost fluttering shut.

You don't look the least bit sorry as you dip your head down to catch his lips again.

[cantgetworsethanthistbh]

so obsessed with stancest body worship. on both ends. these two are so absolutely obsessed, so carnal about each other that they can't help the way they pore over each and every inch of the other and have their whole lives.

stan worshipping ford. ford who's been made to feel so alien, with no place in the world let alone to be loved, and feels so undesirable because of that extra finger and his eccentric interests. As teenagers, no one looked at him in any way that wasn't in the proximity of indifference or disgust— except for stan. stan who would fuck him into the sheets, eyes with so much adoration glued onto ford in a way that made him feel ethereal, otherworldly in the best way possible. stan who grunts about how much fords body just does it for him the way no one else could, from feeling up his long legs, to teasing him about that big head, and to taking ford's hands, kissing it from the wrist, to his palm, to the back of his hand, to every knuckle, one to six. it just makes ford melt knowing that stan wants him so much, when no one else would, and even if someone did it couldnt compare to stan. stan who wants him (has him) more than anything in the whole universe and always will.

and ford worshipping stan. it would come a little later, when theyre so battered and bruised physically and mentally from everything thats gone between them, ford can't waste another second not showering stan with all the love he could give and shouldve given decades before. he kisses the scars stan's earned from the years they were apart, caresses the muscle in his arms that gets ford going a little lightheaded, bites down on the soft flesh of stan's thighs then tongues down the marks left to rile stan up. his fingers rub and squeeze on love handles that spill from the side and sub all over his stomach and chest, all while stan cant hold in his relief that ford still wants him. fat, old, regular him who's not nearly as interesting to look at than ford— or whatever it is ford found through out the multiverse— but ford looks at him and touches like theres nothing else more important across all of them combined compared to him, and ford wants him to know so damn much, that no there isnt.

just... stancest body worship man

[cyberghouleo]

proxies receiving oral headcanons

Pairing: Toby x reader, Tim x reader, Brian x reader

notes: made a twitter if anyone wants to follow! requests open

Tim:

Prefers to be sitting in a chair while you blow him. It makes him feel in charge and he loves seeing you on your knees in front of him. If he’s feeling nice, sometimes he will let you hump his leg as you suck him.

Definitely is a head pusher, just depends on how the day went. If he’s in a bad mood he wants you to sit there and stay still while he uses you to throat fuck. If it’s been a good day he will just lazily sit there and let you go at your own pace. 

Will degrade you the whole time right up until he cums. He wants you to know how pathetic you are for this and how shameful it is. Just will say anything to prove that he has dominance over you.

"You're such a slut for me, so eager to swallow my cum."

“Imagine what the others would think if they saw how much of a whore you are right now.”

Loves cumming on your face and leaving a mess on it. He views it as degrading and marking you as his. He takes photos of his cum dripping off your face, and will show them proudly to anyone who dares to question your relationship. 

Isn’t really big on aftercare, just will get up and go about this day as normal. You can deal with having to clean up your face after him.

Brian:

Prefers to be standing while you suck him off so he can see you on your knees and how small you look under him. He will stroke your hair as you struggle to fit all of his length into your mouth. 

Really big into seeing your makeup get ruined and run down your face as your eyes well up with tears. He loves seeing how far you will push yourself to make him happy, willing to go as far as crying just so you can deepthroat all of him.

He just has a cry kink in general tbh.

Will compliment and praise you during it, telling you how pretty and good you are doing.

“You’re doing so good for me baby, just a little longer.” 

Loves cumming in your mouth, he thinks it's cute to watch you struggle to swallow all of it as some spill out from your lips.

Sometimes before he cums he will grab your hair with one hand to make a makeshift ponytail, using his grip to throat fuck you as his tip abuses the back of your throat.

He makes it up after by praising you while peppering your face and neck in kisses. Also will bring you any drinks or food you want afterwards.

Toby:

Prefers to be sucked off while laying down, this allows him to be able to play and pinch your nipples since he loves feeling you moan around his cock. 

Loves when you gag on him and the way your throat tightens up around him. When you struggle to breath around his dick it gives him an ego boost. 

He will wrap his hands deeply into your hair. He won’t push your head down or throat fuck you, he just loves feeling the grip he has on you. 

If you look up at him and maintain eye contact, he won’t last for long. He thinks it’s hot to see how innocent your eyes look while your lips remain wrapped around him and your cheeks hollowed out. 

Doesn’t dirty talk much but lets out breathy moans often, soft grunts escaping him as his mouth remains open. Curses under his breath as he gets closer to cumming. 

If he’s trying to prolong cumming he will bite down on the inside of his cheek, making the gash near his mouth bigger and bigger. 

Doesn’t really care where he cums, if it’s in your mouth or on your face. Also doesn’t care if he’s dominant or not, he just likes to see your lips wrapped around him he doesn’t care how it has to happen.