#still scared shitless of getting cut on the rim tho

[mad-heynaru]

My name stands for the fact that I love soup, and that I’m cracked at eating it

[bluecookies02]

Please more hawks x mommy reader!!! Please birdman needs more milk!!🥵🥵🥵

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Hawks x Reader-Mommy Kink (18+)

warnings: praise kink, rim job, hawks cumming like a virgin teen.

Have a filthy scenario that's been stuck in my pussy for awhile

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He lives to please, starting with the commission, then his fans but most importantly he lives to please you.

He needs a safe space, a place where he isn't in control, willingly.

Don't get me wrong, he will fuck you silly and leave your thighs shaking and knees buckling, your pussy a literal gushing mess when he's done with you.

But then...you'll start picking up on the way his chest relaxes when you ride him lazily, the look in his eyes softening, his muscles not looking as threatening when they flex each time you squeeze around him.

Then you'll be giving him a blowjob, quiet begging reaching your ears when your tongue trails from his shaft down to his heavy balls, teasing him, daringly going lower and lower until his hips buckle up, his legs shaking when your eyes catch his.

He's scared shitless, staring at you for any sign as his wings tighten against his back.

Your arms soothingly run over his inner thighs, easing him back into the mattress, your warm tongue gliding over his hole...feast on the moans that leave your boyfriend's lips when you plunge deeper.

He doesn't last long, the pleasure and leftover embarrassment pushing him to the edge as soon as your hand pumps him firmly with short flicks of your wrist, your face buried between his legs when his strong legs tighten around your head.

Your lips deatach from his hole, trailing to his chest where his cum left thick glossy stains. You hower over the mess, lubing up your cunt in the sticky release.

There's a blush on his cheeks when you sit on his abs, pulling him up so that he's sitting against the frame of the bed.

Your folds fit perfectly against his length that is barely any less hard than before, your index finger and thumb raising his chin up so that he can't avoid your loving gaze.

"You're gonna be good and make me cum, you can do that for me, baby, right?"

He eagerly nods, his sensitive head gliding over your clit, hissing each time he speeds up, but he doesn't want to let you down, won't let you down.

His face falls into your chest when he starts whimpering, your fingers tangling into his hair as he wraps his lips around your hardening nub, softly crying out when you slip his cock into your heat.

His tongue lolls out as he moans, still staying flush against your tit as his breaths are cut short, his eyes rolled back into his head when you start bouncing on his cock. Each time your hips rocked at a different angle, enjoying the stretch it gave, you hummed to yourself.

A pair of arms traveled around your back and then to your hips, nails digging into your flesh. You take your sweet time, dragging it out until you felt your legs giving out on you little by little.

"P-pleahse, A-ah~" you're not sure what he's pleading for, but you coax him by kneading your breasts against his lips, switching between the two, admiring the way his mouth chases them with eagerness he never had before

."You're being such a good boy...what do you need baby?" You push his face away for a brief second as you wait for his answer, watching his pupils dilate, his cheeks staining with fresh tears and you're about to stop everything until his feather flies to your clit, leathering itself in your slick. It rubs in firm tight circles, somewhat urgent and with no rhythm. You might not even last for more than a few minutes.

"Mommy please let me c-cum...I-I...insid-" he can't finish his sentence right away, your orgasm hitting you without warning, your walls milking him dry and clamping shut around his shaft.

His cock involuntarily spasms, ropes of warm seed painting your insides as he pounds into you, riding his high, slamming you flush against his hips. In your drunk like haze, you can still feel him twitching once he slows down, his body wrapping and tangling with yours.

He holds you feverishly, his fingertips finding home on your back.

He wants to apologize for some reason... Cumming fast like a fucking teenager two times in a row? Not fucking you like he always does, making you do all the work by yourself?

You don't give him enough time to wonder tho, grabbing a blanket and laying down next to him.

You're protectively wrapped around him, carefully snuggling on top of his wings as you play with the feathers. You smile brightly at him, kissing his forehead and covering both of you with the blanket.

"So...Mommy?"

"Shut up."

"I like it"

"I'm sure you do."

There's a moment of silence between the two of you, listening in on your heartbeats as you lazily trace his shoulder.

"Work has been rough lately"

You listen, humming and placing your lips on his neck.

He goes on for what feels like hours, finally letting you in on what's been going on with him and his job, a large sigh of relief leaving his lips once he's done.

He never thought he would be the one that dealt with his problems by talking and opening up but fuck, it does the trick. Only with you tho, he won't even tell anyone else his favorite colour.

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I'm honestly not feeling this work, I could've done better but I'm so fucking exhausted and it's been in my drafts for weeks.

I hope it's still readable and I'll come back and edit it when i don't feel like utter shit😌

please hop onto my /masterlist/ where I actually have decent stuff

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Requests:closed

commission:open (1 slot)

Ko-fi link is in my bio💕

[mcauja]

Women & Weed... and a baby???

Read that title, take a moment to remove your britches from betwixt your uptight asscheeks, and follow me as I paint this picture for you right quick... January 4, 2017. Just days after naming and claiming my greatness for the year, which included losing that last 15 pounds, going back to school AGAIN, cooling out on flings and meaningless one night stands, and finally obtaining a passport, I sat on the toilet of my closet sized guest bathroom, scared shitless, waiting to see what the twin pregnancy tests I'd taken simultaneously would tell me. "Lol biiiiiiiiiiiitch GUESS WHAT?!" is what those pregnancy tests revealed. Rather quickly, I might add, so there was no time for second guessing. Those pink goddamned lines appeared like a sleazy landlord on the 2nd; posthaste, ready to run my pockets and kill my vibe for the foreseeable future. I was fucking pregnant. Gross. I'm sure most women take those few earth shattering moments afterwards to let the future materialize before them, beginning to dream of a reality they'd never imagined before. Not me. I had a nightcap jay rolled and ready for me before I discovered this new truth because I mean c'mon lol no way, right? RIGHT?! Wrong. So I take my few deep breaths, text my best friend and tell her that she needs to fix this because yeah NO, and I clomp back to my room in a stupor as muscle memory leads me directly to my ashtray where the fresh blunt is waiting; calling. Whenever things in my life go awry, all I need is a little time, a little space to think, and a little bud and I can fix or fineness anything. But just as I'm about to blaze the stress away, I could feel myself developing a little white angel on my shoulder. "You're pregnant Auja, that's bad for the baby dumbass." "Oh yeah, I forgot... Fuck." I smoked a little anyway tho because fuck that little white useless ass angel. Where was she when my uterus was being infiltrated?! Why didn't she tell me to swallow instead?!?! Stupid bitch, I hate that angel. February 9, 2017. It's been a few weeks since I realized I was harboring a squatter in my womb and life has flipped upside down. It's as if my body was waiting for me to catch up to what was happening before shit could really start happening. Mere days after those God forsaken pink lines appeared, morning noon and night sickness followed suit, with intense all day nausea bringing up the rear. I'd made a doctors appointment immediately and on the day of, while filling out the bullshit paperwork, I find myself once again stuck and scared shitless. "How often do you: consume caffeine, drink alcohol, smoke cigarettes, partake in recreational drug use?" Oh shit. Should I lie???? I should lie right?? I mean I didn't even do any of that other stuff before so I'm good. And it's not like they'll know anyway; I've stopped since I found out so it's not like I would really be lying. "Oh we'll also need a urine sample in just a second" FUCK!!!!! Okay, just tell the truth then. Fuck. And so I did. The Gods honest, "every damn day, at least twice a day." truth. Would this doctor call the imaginary pregnancy police on me? Would she look over the rim of her glasses and judge me as if I'd stabbed a white woman multiple times and was about to get away with it?! Would everyone pretend it's all good then on the day of my delivery, CPS shows up and rips my beautiful baby from my arms without bothering to cut the umbilical cord?!? I had completely went on auto pilot and panic mode while Dr. Nice White Lady went through the questionnaire with me, dreading that moment we'd have to discuss my hophead tendencies. "I see here it says you used drugs before pregnancy..." "Yes but only weed" "Well while we can't encourage or discourage that, I do have to inform you that it could possibly affect the baby" *inner dialogue* "DUH bitch that's why I stop-- hold up... did she just say she can't DISCOURAGE me from sparking up??" *Bitch ass angel refusing to mind her business* "Yeah but she can't ENCOURAGE you either dumbass" "1) call me dumbass again and see what happens. 2) nobody ever ENCOURAGES smoking weed but other weed heads. She's a doctor, she basically just told me roll up at my own risk..." "No, that's not what she sai--" "Aaaaahhhh!! Unt-un shut yo ass up, I ain't tryna hear it. You already know what's up!!!" And she did. My stupid shoulder angel I mean, not Dr. Nice White Lady. She knew what I'd been suffering through, but, you, reading this, may have no idea what pregnancy does to women. Each instance is different. All the forums and mom blogs I scoured for slivers of peace and sanity would reiterate this time and again. Most often they tell you to ask your doctor about these things, but your doctor will more than likely bullshit you then prescribe a drug you can't roll up and smoke, but a drug nonetheless. A drug that might make you a little LESS nauseous, but would not keep you from retching up the food you just ate 10 minutes ago. Some days it can be so bad, water won't stay put. You ever thrown up ice cold water??? Spoiler alert, that shit comes back just as cold and it's fucking disgusting. I took to eating Bomb Pops because supposedly popsicles soothe the stomach and help fight against dehydrating yourself and your unborn child but in my case it just made for patriotic toilet decorations. Can't even lie tho, it was kinda cool watching the red white and blue come up in the exact same order as it had gone down. Gross, right? Lol And it's not just stomach issues us preggers have to endure. The sleepless nights, the aches and pains of a body growing and changing to accommodate new life, the mood swings, the anxiety. THE ANXIETY OMG. As it stands, at 4 months I should be gaining about 1-2 pounds per week. I am currently 5 pounds lighter than I was when I first found out about my baby. I worry CONSTANTLY I'm not feeding it enough; that the lil guy(or girl, please be a girl) isn't getting the proper nutrition. That I'm a shit mom because I can't seem to do this without weed. But I mean gahdamn what's a woman to do?? Liquids don't hold and sometimes even just the sight or smell of food while sober makes me dry heave. I search google every day looking for new developments and studies that will assuage my guilt. I don't have to look very hard, almost all weed/pregnancy related studies conclude there isn't enough evidence to surely say weed will harm a fetus, but science can't ever let you have your moment so the "That doesn't mean it's okay" undertones are always there. The judgement I'm sure I'd receive from family and certain friends worries me, and every appointment I have with Dr. Nice White Lady, I fear the lecture I'm sure she's holding onto. But at days end, as I puff puff then take my prenatal vitamin, I can't help but feel a little indignant. My body, my baby, my bud, right?! If things are okay, then I should keep doing what works right?? I heard it's healthy heartbeat and witnessed Baby Big Heads growth in the sonogram. It's recently started to move around in there and it feels like gnarly gas lol I gladly welcome the morning vomit because that means my lil shorty is still alive and kickin. Afterwards I toke up and eat a hearty breakfast and then lunch and sometimes even dinner. I drink way more water than I ever have and make sure I'm getting all my fruit and veggie servings. As it stands, I'm living and self caring better than I ever have before, and my kid is all the better for it. What harm will a little session do, ya know?? Peace and blessings.