Becoming Pen Pals With A Random Citizen In Jail, Just To Give Yourself Something To Pass The Time. You

This right here delicious and best believe I’m coming back for more ( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡

🤍𝐝𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲 𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐮𝐞𝐬🤍

info: john price x female reader | inspired by 🎧daddy issues / the neighborhood🎧

category: angst, fluff

warnings: negative self talk, dd/lg themes, petnames (sweetheart & doll), lmk if i missed any.

a/n: excited to finally post something of substance on here, i have a million ideas i'm gonna try to write over holiday break.

You let your head fall to the steering wheel, huge, ugly sobs wracking your body. Your chest coiled in pain, constricting around the giant, empty hole of nothing, where something should be. Where you needed something to be. Or someone. 

You felt disgusting as you blew your nose once more, adding the rough napkin to a pile of its snot-covered brethren littering the passenger floorboard. You’d been trying not to cry for an hour, all to no avail. 

Rolling down the window, gasping for fresh air, something, anything…

The sky, dark and cold, offered no comfort, the moon and stars, no light, and the breeze gave only a bitter chill. You needed to not be alone tonight. You couldn’t be alone tonight. Dear god, I’m so tired of being alone…

The phone rang once.

Twice.

Three ti-

“Evenin’.”

“John-” you choked out, tears streaming at the sound of his voice. “John, it hurts.”

“Darlin’, what-”

“Can I come see you?” A pause. “Please.”

“Come on,” he said quietly. “I’ll leave a light on for ya’.”

You threw the car into park, yanked your keys out, and slammed the door. You weren’t gonna make it. He lived on the ground floor, no stairs, that was good. Your head felt like it would float away if it weren’t for the pounding ache. You slumped against his door and knocked as loudly as you could.

A moment passed, and you wondered if the light had already been on for someone else. You ruin everything.

Footsteps. Bolt sliding out of place. Move. You gathered your weight and stood, lip trembling, in front of John Price. 

He wore a simple tee, worn with age, and faded track pants. Nothing fancy. You couldn’t look him in the eyes.

He made a soft vocalization and beckoned you inside. You stepped in quickly, skirting past him, afraid to get him contaminated. He closed the door behind you, locking it with surety, and turned to you with a tilt of his head. “What happened, doll?”

That did it. You crashed into his chest, crying nigh uncontrollably, hands gripping his shirt, hair a mess. 

John let out a small uff and it took him a moment before his arms very gently crossed behind your back. You didn’t care. 

“It fucking hurts, and I hate it, I hate this shit, I just want it to go the fuck AWAY!” you wept into him, tugging at the fabric he wore, hoping the clench of your palm would take away the clench of your heart. 

He sighed. In an instant, his arms had slipped down and around, scooping you off the floor and letting you curl into his torso as he walked to his room. 

“No, John, no, I’ll fuck up the bed, I can’t stop cr-”

“Hush,” he grumbled. His voice sounded thick but you didn’t have the capacity to wonder why. “Y’can’t stand right now. I’ll worry about the bed.”

He nudged the door open with his foot and you did your best to bury your entire head into his shoulder. Something, anything to take it away, to go to sleep, and feel nothing for a while…

John set you down and the mattress cradled your body. His bed smelled like him. Everything smelled like John. He lifted you up by the back and slid a few pillows underneath you, handing you a box of tissues from the nightstand. “Easy, now.” John stepped to the door, but you audibly cried. 

“Please don’t…please don’t leave.”

His eyes rested on you for a long beat, softening by the second. He stepped back to the bed and cupped your tear-damp face in his hand. “Okay,” John said, tucking your head into his stomach. “I won’t leave.” 

Those words set you off again, and your body shook from the weight of the heaviness on your shoulders. “I can’t keep living like this, John, I can’t, I can’t, I can’t-”

“I know,” he murmured as he began to stroke the back of your head, “I know.” Still keeping you tucked into him, John moved over your body and sat next to you, his back against the headboard. “Come here, doll.”

Sniffling, you scooted closer to him and pressed your head into his chest. His arms wrapped you once more, and he touched his rough lips gently to your skin. “I’m here. ‘M not goin’ anywhere.”

Your head pounded again, in cadence with your heart, your breathing, your chest, your pain, your everything, and it was all too much-

“Please make it stop, I can’t do it anymore, John, please, please!” you begged, nails carving moons into your palms. 

“Gotta breathe, sweetheart,” he whispered. “Gotta breathe.” John took your wrists in his hands and lifted them above your head, brows creasing at the way your torso still tried to cave on itself, like the implosion of a star. “In…all the way…atta girl, out…easy, now…in…out…there y’go, in…out….” You gradually came down from the high, hiccuping less and seeing more clearly. John sighed again. “Come on, you.”

“Where?” you said, voice cracking. 

“Shower. Warm water’ll do y’good.”

You nodded numbly and held onto his index finger as he stepped around the bed to the bathroom, afraid that he would vanish into the dark. He clicked the lightswitch, and a soft, warm glow illuminated the cool tile room. “Up y’get,” he grumbled, taking you by the waist and planting you straight onto the counter. John leaned into the shower and turned the water on, letting it run over his hands. You let your foot dangle on his leg. You didn’t want to stop touching him. Ever. 

“John?” 

He stood, flicking the water from his fingertips, and motioned for you to lift your arms up. He began to peel your shirt off your body with heartbreaking gentleness. 

“Yes, doll.”

“I’m sorry,” you said through tee-shirt cotton, pulling your arms out of the entanglement.

“Don’t be.” John lifted you from the counter and crouched, unbuttoning your jeans. 

“I am.” You stepped out of the awful denim as he pulled it down your legs. “I feel disgusting and I made a fucking mess of you.”

He stood once more, stepping around you, pulling the fastens of your bra apart. “‘Boutta clean it off.” He moved to face you once more, pulling the straps down your shoulders and away from your skin. John’s eyes found the angry red line underneath your breasts from the combined too-small band and heaving sobs. He thumbed them softly. 

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, barely audible over the shhhhh of the water. 

John knelt again, tapping the inside of your thigh. “Gotta get these off.”

You obliged, stepping out so he could hook his fingers around the elastic of your panties and take those off you as well. 

You stood in the pile of your clothing and reached out, tugging at his own. “Can I?”

John nodded, his eyes never once leaving your face as you worked his body out of his shirt and track pants, hovering over his boxers before he stroked the shell of your ear. “It’s okay,” he said, his voice thick again. “Won’t hurt ya’.” You mimicked him, crouching to the floor and tugging the waistband down to reveal his naked body. He was soft, not an ounce of arousal present. Something in your stomach twisted, and tears prickled at the edge of your eyes again. You moved the boxers over his foot and put it on the growing pile of clothes. 

John’s knuckle traced your cheek. “Come on, doll. Into the water with ya’.”

You stood and shivered when his hand came to rest at the small of your back, guiding you slowly into the warm water haven. Stepping over the rim of the tub and into the shower stream, you let the water engulf you, flowing over hair and neck and face and chest. 

John stepped in after you. He didn’t move for a moment, and you opened your eyes to meet his gaze. “What?”

“‘M sorry you’re in s’much pain.”

“...thanks.”

“Let me make it better.” You stiffened. His eyebrows knitted together in alarm. “No, not like that. Easy. Just….” John picked up a dark bottle of shampoo. “Just let me help.”

“Okay,” you whispered, turning to face the water, trying desperately to keep from crying, if only to stave off another headache. 

John’s fingers laced through your hair then, working down to your scalp, through your roots all the way back to your ends. “I know it’s not what you normally use…”

“It’s okay. Thank you.”

John put his palms on your shoulders and turned you gently, gathering you into his still-dry chest and rinsing the soap from your hair. “Not a problem, doll.” 

As the shampoo ran down your back, you lifted your arms ever so tentatively, and put them around his neck. John went still for a moment, but only just a moment, and soon his fingers were back to scrubbing your head. 

You opened your mouth to the smell of his shampoo on your hair and the bare skin of his chest in front of you. His heart, thumping steadily, beat right below your cheek, and you instinctively pressed into him. 

John’s hands slowed and he began stroking your back, gathering any hair fallout, smoothing over your skin, and breathing in your scent the same as you inhaled his. “I got ya’. ‘M not goin’ anywhere.” 

The tears came again, unbidden, but not fighting their way out as they had earlier - now they simply flowed. As you cried, John turned you back around, applying conditioner, body wash, scrubbing your body for you, tapping gently when he needed you to lift an arm or move a leg. He never stopped touching you, never lost contact with your skin. And he didn’t take advantage.

When John tapped your thigh, you wondered vaguely if he would attempt to rile you up, making the excuse of “just cleaning”. But he didn’t. A soft wash cloth lay between his fingers and your folds, and he worked the soap over your mound just the same as he had the rest of you. He lathered your breasts gently, without an ounce of boyishness, simply soaping and rinsing. John’s own body got wet in the process of cleaning you, but you found yourself too exhausted to care. 

As the last of the conditioner was washed out of your hair, John let the water run over your back, holding you between the heat of his body and that of the shower. 

“Thank you, John.”

He nodded, muscles squeezing almost imperceptibly tighter around you. “Let me know when you want to get out,” he murmured.

“Okay.”

Minutes passed and you simply stood in his arms, letting every emotion that once filled your ribcage to the point of breaking flow down the drain with the water. And John stood with you, stroking your hair when the sniffles and hiccups returned, pulling you to him when they subsided. 

You spoke up, quietly telling him you were ready to get out. He shut off the water, reaching out to grab a towel for you and helping you step out of the slick tub.

“Atta girl, doll. Slow. Good.”

John wrapped you in the plush cotton, using another towel to dry off your legs, crouched before you once again. You managed to get to your arms, but it wasn’t long before he made his way up your body and met you there, his eyes soft as he took over. “I got ya’, darlin’. I got ya’.” You looked up at him with still-teary eyes as words failed you. The ghost of a smile passed over John’s features. “I know. You want a shirt?” You looked at your own tee, covered in snot, and nodded profusely. John took your hand and led you back into his darkened room. Switching a lamp on, he opened a dresser drawer and produced an almost-identical faded, age-worn tee, indiscernible from the one on the bathroom floor. “Here you go, doll.” John turned to see you right on his heels, feeling small in the unfamiliar territory. He really did crack a smile then. “Come on. Arms up.” You obeyed, your chin sinking to your chest. His eyes never strayed from their task, even as the towel covering your body fell to the ground and fluffled around your ankles. “I got shorts or pants,” he said, “You got a preference?”

Your skin prickled in the post-shower chill. “Pants, please.”

He nodded and did the same as before, dressing you with quiet comfortability, slipping soft material up over your calves and thighs. Without asking, John also produced a pair of black, thick socks, pulling them onto your feet with ease. 

“Do…do you want me to…?” You gestured to his bare skin. “I…can. If you want.”

He met your gaze, gentle eyes making you feel a bit less hollow. “Just stay next to me.”

“Okay.” I can do that. You settled onto the bed’s edge, feet not quite touching the floor, and watched him pull a shirt over his huge back and another pair of pants over his massive legs. “John?”

“Yes, doll,” he replied as he shook the water from his hair into a towel. 

“Can we…can I, I mean, you don’t have to, can I, um…take a nap?” When he didn’t answer immediately, you tripped over yourself to explain. “Just-just for a bit, I’ll drive home tonight, I won’t stay, I just thought maybe-”

“Sweetheart.”

You sat stock still. John’s hand came up to your shoulder. “Breathe, kid. ‘M not gonna kick y’out. Stay as long as y’need.”

You stuffed your hands in your lap. “Thanks.”

He tilted his chin to the headboard. “Get under the covers, I’ll be there in a minute.”

Your body moved before your brain caught up, and you were snug as a bug in a rug before you processed the full extent of his words. He’ll be here in…does he think we’re…what the fuck- 

As the confusion set in, John returned, leaning on the doorframe, phone in hand. “Y’like pizza?”

You blinked. “Yes.”

He padded toward the bed, clambering onto the mattress - the added weight made your body fall towards him as an uff escaped your lips. You smiled, the first one tonight, and curled under his arm. 

“Y’wanna order it?” John asked, showing you the screen. It’s cracked, but you can still easily make out the Domino’s online ordering menu. 

“Yessss.” You kicked your feet out in his soft sheets. Making your selections, you handed it back to him and watched his face for any sign of displeasure. He showed none. 

“Looks good, doll. You can sleep while we wait for it.”

You sat with that for a moment. “No.” You twisted your head up to look into his eyes. “Thank you, John. I would have driven off the road if not for you.”

He cleared his throat. “‘M glad y’came to me. Thank y’for lettin’ me take care of you.”

“I…like you taking care of me.” Your heart pounded and you became acutely aware of his hand on your shoulder, large palm and splayed fingers. 

“Yeah?” John’s voice rumbled in your ear, low and full and delicious-

“Yes,” you said earnestly, propping yourself up to look at him properly. “John, I…I…” He had the nerve to look amused. “...I…”

John chuckled. “Just stay. Stay and I’ll take care of you.” 

“Just like that?”

“Just like that.”  

“I…don’t know what to say.”

His features softened even more, if that was possible. “Don’t have to say anythin’. Just tell me what you wanna watch.” John nodded toward the tv atop his dresser. 

“John…” you sniffled, squeezing his shirt in your hand once more. “Can I just…lay here for a while?”

“Course.” And without a further word, he plucked a pair of reading glasses from the nightstand, opened the faded western they laid on, and began to read. 

A few moments of silence pass, and they are un-fucking-bearable. Your thoughts begin to race again - He doesn’t want you here. You’re a burden. You take up more space than you deserve. What happened to looking out for yourself? You can’t, can you? Fucking pathetic, you are. What happens when he gets tired of you? What happens wh- “John?”

He looked at you over his glasses, brows raised. “Yes, sweetheart?”

You felt small again, but safer. Safer than you had in a while. “Would you mind…reading to me? I don’t think I can sleep otherwise.”

“I’m that tedious, eh?” John grinned when you flicked him on the arm. 

“No! No, I…I want you to.”

“Yes,” he chuckled, “I’ll read to you.” He turned the page back (“Can’t start right in the action, can we?”) and began, his voice flowing in its same gravelly cadence, filling your brain with soft warmth. The story was of a merchant’s daughter and the cowboy she fell in love with, and John had just gotten to the part where her father finds out. “‘-and they came to blows, fists flying through the dusty air, the world fallen silent save for the sound of knuckles on bone, and-’ Are you asleep?”

You blinked, still very much on the verge of unconsciousness. “Nuh-uhhhh…” You stretched out under his comforter, nestling your face back onto his warm thigh. 

“S’okay,” he said. John laced his fingers through your hair once more. “Y’need the rest. Take it. I’ll wake y’up when pizza’s here.”

You needed no further encouragement. As sleep overtook you once more, you managed to mumble out, “Thanks, Daddy.”

John was very still for a very long time.

Then, “...You’re welcome, sweetheart.”

a/n: if you liked this, please let me know with a like, reblog, or comment 🤍

all dividers courtesy of @saradika

I need this man Now \(^ヮ^)/(*^‿^*)\(^ヮ^)/(❤ω❤)(❤ω❤)(❤ω❤)

Keep It Down

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

Summary: Trying to not wake anyone up while staying over for the holidays…

Warnings: Intense feels, trying to stay quiet, hand over mouth, Smut 18+, literally just pp in vv moment, petnames (Ma (ofc, this is Jaybird we’re talkin’ about), baby), crying but…in the hot way?, obsessed with this concept ngl. Yes, I got lazy at the end, don’t judge.. :(

Word count: 1k

======

It was all quiet pants and silent tears. 

The holidays had rolled around and the two of you were staying at Wayne Manor for the week. A classic Gotham storm raged outside, snow gently falling as lightning flashed through the closed curtains of Jason’s room. Thunder shook the house, momentarily deafening what was happening. 

You and Jason were always recklessly in love. So, no wonder you couldn’t keep your hands to yourselves for more than a day. The only problem was volume. And shit, could Jason make you lose your voice moaning and crying out his name. On the other hand, it would be sucky to be caught by one of his brothers, let alone Alfred or Bruce… 

“Gotta stay quiet, baby.. Can you do that for me?” Was what he murmured in your ear before you got started. 

He was slow, loving with his slow but deep thrusts. His dick hitting that spot within you that made your back arch and nails drag down his back, leaving angry red streaks in their wake. Fuck, he knew how to make your head spin. 

Tears streaked down your cheeks, shallow breaths leaving your parted lips. Jason ate it up, kissing and nipping along your neck. Tasting your skin and groaning into your neck to keep his own noises to a minimum. Calloused hands gripping your thighs to haul them up around his waist to get a better angle. The whine you let out was quickly muffled by his lips capturing yours in a deep kiss. “Shhh.. I know, ma, I know..” He mumbled against your mouth. 

As he had your lips captured, his hands moved up. Pulling you up into an arch by your waist before wrapping his arms around. Shoving his arms between you and the bed. Chest to chest, arms hugging your middle like he was scared you’d slip away. When he finally pulled away to breathe, his forehead dropped to your shoulder. Hot breath fanning across your skin making a shiver run up your spine. 

“Oh shit…” You breathed, hand coming up to drag through his dark hair. Gripping with shaky fingers, lightly tugging, making Jason practically growl into your skin. Brows pinched in pleasure as tears fell back into your hairline. Every roll of his hips takes your breath away and makes you tremble. His fingers dug into your back as he squeezed you tighter. 

Fire.. that's what you felt. Crawling beneath your skin, licking at your core making your stomach flip. Pushing you closer and closer to your high with every thrust, sharp breath, and moan. Trying to keep quiet. Desperately. But it was so difficult with how overwhelming it was. The thrill of accidentally being too loud. Passionate tenderness that made your head spin and tears prick your eyes. In a vulnerable state of intense pleasure and connection. All while your loving boyfriend whispered sweet nothings into your skin. “That’s it, ma..I’ve got you.. Just let go, I’ve got you..” 

Flushed and blissed out, your head pressed back to the pillows. Whimpering an, “Oh my god..” into the darkness of the room. Maybe a little too loud than you should’ve… 

Jason was quick to remedy your loss of volume control. His hand coming up to cover your mouth, his other arm still securely holding you to him. While he loved how wrecked you sounded, he didn’t want to get caught..You breathed harshly through your nose as you let out a ragged moan that got muffled by his palm. “Baby, baby.. Gotta keep it down..” He murmured, voice laced with desire.

Despite his words, he picked up the pace a little, rocking against you with more intensity. Hitting harder, somehow it felt deeper too. Eyes squeezed shut as you tried to focus on your pleasure and keep your moans down. 

Pressing closer, practically suffocating you with his weight. Draping himself over you like a protective blanket made up of over two hundred pounds of muscle. His hand left your mouth to grip the pillow next to your head. His head dropping once more, groaning right into your ear. “C’mon, ma..” You were so close…

You choked and pressed your face to his neck. Letting out a strangle moan you muffle against his skin. Finally reaching that peak. It wasn’t fast and strong like it usually would be. The kind that would have you moaning shamelessly and crying out his name. No.. This twisted your spine and burned through your veins. Making you choke on your own air and hold your breath. Crashing over your body like waves on an ocean shore. Tensing as you gripped him where you could. Pawing desperately at his skin for purchase as fat tears rolled down your cheeks. 

Then you let out a sob of raw pleasure, still muffled against his skin. Shaking as you rode out your high. Thighs trembling around his waist as your body pulsed with the aftershocks. He slowed down for a moment, cooing softly in your ear and pressing kisses to your tear-stained cheeks as he helped you ride out your orgasm. 

When you finally calmed down enough, he took your chin in hand, “Yeah..?” He mumbled to you. Seeking permission, seeing if he could be selfish now. Chase his pleasure. All you could do was tighten your legs around his waist again and nod weakly. Arms pulling him closer once more. “Yeah..” He quickly sought out your lips, locking you in a deep and needy kiss as he picked up the pace again. 

Panting and pressing as deep as he could. His groans went straight into your mouth as he chased his release. He wasn’t far behind. His hips stuttered before he let out a strangled moan, “Baby..” he grumbled against your lips. Giving a few short thrusts as he finished. Jason finally broke the kiss with a heavy sigh. A string of saliva connected you still before he licked his lips. “Fuck, you did so good for me..” He praised softly as he caressed your cheek. Thumbs wiping away the tears. 

“Fuck yeah, I did..” You gave a tired smirk. He paused before he gave a slow smirk of his own. 

“As if, you were loud as hell.”

“Shut up…”

My babymama’s y’all they just so breathtaking ( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡

BOOMHAHAHAHAHAH

artist - @caitviolence on twt

let’s say wife!abby and the reader are trying for a baby, how do you think she’d react to the reader being pregnant with twins?

౨ৎ expecting twins with abby ౨ৎ

warnings: mentions of pregnancy, allusions to sex, explicit language.

You were on your third round of IVF, and following two unsuccessful tries you were stoked to find that you were expecting a set of twins. Ahead of the journey, both you and Abby knew that because you were having children through IVF the chances of having multiples was not a rarity.

That didn’t stop Abby from expressing her fear of them however, seeing as you already had your hands full with your first two children. So you decided you’d tell her after work, when the babies were down for the night and the house was in a state of calm, rather than the usual chaos caused by your loud and attention needing four year olds.

౨ৎ

Abby stood next to you while you brushed your teeth, she combed your wet hair for you. Left soft kisses on the back of your neck when you mumbled about how tired you were, trailed behind you out of the bathroom and into the girl’s dimly lit nursery.

Both your daughters snores filling the air, with Abby attached to your back you walked to the foot of their cribs. Sighing happily when she wrapped a loving arm around your waist. Quiet as you looked in awe at your babies,

“They’re so beautiful.” Abby hummed in agreement , reaching a long arm into Lila’s crib to stroke her cheek.

“I know,” she whispered as she repeated it with Céline, “They are the most beautiful princesses.” The two of you stood in silence, bodies swaying in domestic bliss. Abby’s cheek pressed against the side of your head, kissing you a few times while she held you tight. You traced patterns on her strong forearms, wanting to never have this moment end.

“Abby?” you whispered.“Hm?” You brought a hand up to cup her cheek, “What if I told you we’re expecting more?” Abby froze. Voice barely above a whisper as she responded.

“Are you pregnant again?” You nodded your head, her body tingling immediately. She tugged you closer into her arms, peppering kisses all down your neck.

“Yes, and what if I told you we might be having two more princesses?” That’s when her face slowly dropped in worry.

“You’re fucking with me, twins again?,” Abby questioned, moving her head back into the crook of your neck, “We’re having another set of gremlins.”

“I thought they were your little princesses?” You questioned her with a giggle, causing her to lift her head once more, glaring at you as she groaned.

“They are, but they’re a fucking handful. Can barely get enough alone time with you anymore, let alone fuck you whenever I want.”

“We’ll have my parents’ help, your dads help, we can even get a nanny!” You squeeze her cheeks, the pout slowly disappearing from her face.

“I know baby, even though they’re gremlins I’m still excited.” She whispers and that makes you smile.

“My little breeding whore, can’t stop giving me babies can you?” She teases, causing you to gasp at her vulgarity.

“ABBY!” You slap her chest, causing her to give you that playful smirk of hers.

“What, you are my little breeding wh…” You place your index finger against her soft lips before she can complete her sentence.

“We’re going to have four little ears around the house so you better fix your language Anderson.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Heyyyyy I love your writing so much!!!! Plus your theme is so nice!! It looks amazing 🫶🏾

Connie & Ony with partners that wear glasses? Can it include NSFW as well?

omg, I loveeee thissss

ONY

- man I just know ony would be a straight up menanceee

- like, we all know onyankopon is sassy as fuck, so everytime you try to catch an attitude or have something smart to say to him, he looks you up and down throuhg his side-eye and mumbles

"aint about to argue with someone who needs goggles to see, girl bye."

or or or

"bad eyesight or bad attitude, pick a struggle."

- I just know he makes you soooo mad, like mad would be an understatement for reallll.

- Jokes aside, I feel like ony would be very very gentle with your glasses, shit he would care about them more than you. Always telling you to clean them, or putting them in a safe space whenever you fall asleep with them on or leave them out somewhere.

- He'd love you wearing em, without you wearing them too, but he'd love when you were them because of how cutely it frames your face and because you don't have to be hurting your pretty eyes just to see

...speaking of seeing

NSFW

- Ony literally gets so heated if you take off your glasses while your fucking cause when he's fucking you he wants you to see every nasty shit he be doing to that pussy.

- Fixes your glasses if they end up lopsided while he's drilling your shit, like it don't matter how into it he is or how close he is, he will stop and fix that shit. ARGUE WITH YOUR MOMMY!

- he lovessss when you have that shit on while giving him a blowjob, loves how messy your glasses gets when he releases all over them.

- if you cuss him about this, he'll just kiss you on your pretty mouf and tell you that he'll clean em.

CONNIE

omg

- please don't get me started on this.

- bro connie is so fucking annoyingggggg. Like I just know you be having to havea back-up glasses because of him.

- he be dragging that shit right the fuck off your face if yall get in an arguement or if yall are play fighting. asking you some shit like

"oh, cause I thought a visually impaired bitch said sum."

"you acting too bad like I can't control your vision."

"don't be raising your four-eyes head ass at me, ill make sure you stay blind keep playing."

- and he be thinking that shit is sooo funny, like it's not bro grow up.

- it's so funny cause it's the complete opposite when yall are getting jiggy with it

NSFW

- firm believer that connie gently takes off your glasses during sex, im standing on my ground on this.

- I mean pausing mid make-out just to slide that shit off your face, making extra sure to fold the arms before placing them somewhere safe.

where was this energy when we were fighting sir??

- and after he takes them off, he kisses your eyes gently before fucking you into any near surface.

- like I just have a feeling broooo

a black woman named keisha young was dragged down a flight of stairs by security while celebrating pride at a bar in dc on saturday. she's raising money for legal fees and medical bills. please donate if you can!

gofundme.com

Help Keisha pay for legal fees and therapy, organized by Keisha Young

http://bit.ly/justice4keisha On June 12th, I went to nellies sports bar and gr… Keisha Young needs your support for Help Keisha pay for lega

That’s my husband y’all (づ￣ ³￣)づ(づ￣ ³￣)づ(❤ω❤)(❤ω❤)( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡

Pro Hero Tenya Iida who tries to be good for you

Pro Hero Tenya Iida who comes home from a long day at work and can't help himself when he sees you waiting for him all domestic like

Pro Hero Tenya Iida who uses you for stress relief even when he doesn't want to

Pro Hero Tenya Iida who can't think straight as soon as he is engulfed in your walls

Pro Hero Tenya Iida who breaks the headrest of the bed with how hard he fucks you

Pro Hero Tenya Iida who keeps fucking you as if he didn't just crack the wall

Pro Hero Tenya Iida who tells you how much he loves you as he fucks you both into overstimulation

Pro Hero Tenya Iidawho fills you to the brim not even caring about protection

Pro Hero Tenya Iida who gently cleans you both up afterwards

Pro Hero Tenya Iida who carries you to the spare bedroom and holds you close while you fall asleep

Pro Hero Tenya Iida who loves you ❤️

_______

Pro Hero Tenya Iida BEEN on my mind

The sweetest thing 💖

Thinking about Takuma Ino, who becomes a father so young when you fall unexpectedly pregnant. Thinking about the fear in your eyes, the shaking hands going to hold each other's, the positive test clasped between them. The way Takuma reassures you; "it's okay, it's okay, I always wanted to be a dad...sure, not this soon-- but we'll be fine. Better than fine, we'll be great."

The way Takuma goes for a walk that night, after you've cried yourself to sleep, crouching down in an alleyway with his beanie'd head in his hands, wondering how he could possibly ever be a good father. Wanting to marry you, to do things 'right', but afraid you'd think he only wanted to marry you because of the pregnancy.

The way Takuma arrives on his mother's doorstep (the mother who raised him alone, young, single) in the dead of night, pale-faced. The way his mother holds him as he cries and apologises at the dining room table, his face in her robed chest. The way she cups his face, and stares into his eyes; "we can do this, together, the right way. You're a good boy. Now be a good man."

The way Takuma learns to be a father, from his mother, who was his whole world. The way Takuma works himself to the bone, squirrelling money away, booking in with estate agents to go and view your first home together in a way that makes your hormonal heart clench.

The way Takuma's head hits the pillow, weary after working all night, then comes straight up again as he hears you vomiting in the bathroom, kneeling behind you to stroke your hair back, holding you gently round the waist on the tiled floor; "attagirl...it'll be better soon, right? Toughest girl I know. Doin' such a great job."

The way Takuma takes up embroidery, buying cheap plain clothes for the baby, because he can't afford much, but adding small artistic touches of beauty; a frog with a toadstool hat, a little trailing succulent vine, a shooting star.

The way Takuma is bright and excited; there for every scan, every class, every milestone. The way Takuma puts on a brave face. The way Takuma hides in the staffroom at work, his head in his hands, creaking under the weight of responsibility. The way he feels a strong hand clasp his shoulder, a beige suit, a blue shirt, a leopard print tie at the corner of his eye; "I know you're going to say no...but I'd like to buy a gift. For both of you. For the baby."

The way Takuma feels so ashamed for accepting help; the way a crib, a beautiful buggy, a snug and safe car seat, all gradually arrive at your new home. The way he tries to insist on paying Nanami Kento back. Nanami naturally refuses, pretends to be inordinately interested in his newspaper.

The way Takuma can't help but buy the baby a few beanies. The way you retaliate by buying an outfit that looks just like Ino's. He is thrilled.

The way Takuma's embroidery has advanced so well, he makes four little Auspicious Beasts to hang from a mobile above the crib.

The way Takuma paints beautiful, geometric, zany black and white shapes on the wall in the baby's bedroom; "They only see black, white and red at first babe. Neat, right?"

The way Takuma is pale throughout your labour, his eyes feverish, your pain so much harder than any battle he's ever been to. The way his tears hit him in a huge whooshing breath, a head-holding groan of relief when his baby son is placed on your chest, wet and crying, a little angry clenched face. The way Takuma rests his cheek on his arm at the top of your bed, gazing down and sniffling as his son holds his finger.

The way Takuma takes you both home, proud, woefully in love, still wondering how he's ever going to grow up and be a man, without realising he's already so much more of a man than so many others in this world.

Thinking about young dad Takuma Ino.

( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡ This right here Delicious!!! I need more!!!

NSFW

So hybrid bulls and cows are actually separate species in MY fantasy world, not male and female.

So you work on a farm specializing in male cows and bulls, the only woman that’s allowed there due to… how the hybrids behave around any females.

You milk them… but not in the normal way. As the only woman on the farm, you’re the only one they’ll allow to milk their cocks. They produce a special semen that’s a milk alternative, and very yummy!

The cow’s are fine enough, following you around and nuzzling into you, wanting cuddles and extra attention when you’re milking them… they behave so well, blushing and mooing softly, gently moving their hips against your hand as you milk their cocks dry.

The bulls however… are a different story. They’re very territorial and protective over the cow hybrids, who they’ve formed a friendship with. They don’t like most people, and tend to be loners that only come around when it’s milking time.

But your pay is upgraded when the farm owners notice that the bulls have started warming up to you, even starting to treat you like a heifer, keeping you safe and guarding you from the other employees.

It wasn’t a surprise to anyone but you when the bulls started being a bit… too handsy with you. They viewed you as a heifer now… but you were so small compared to any female cow they’d ever seen. A runt, stunted, maybe…

But you had that chubby tummy and plush hips, those plump breasts that would look so pretty full of milk…

Within a month of starting work, you find yourself being bent over by one of the bulls, the cows mooing in distress and trying to comfort you as a fat cock enters your cunt.

“D-don’t be rough with her! She’s little!” one of the cows protests, stroking your hair and cooing softly to you. The bull huffs, hot air hitting the back of your neck as he fucks into you.

“Being as gentle as possible… little thing, couldn’t take me being rough even if I wanted to be…”

Your cunt was stuffed full with cum, several bulls mounting you until you were a blubbering mess. Once the bulls were done, you were surrounded by cows, getting kisses and snuggles… but they wanted to mate as well…

They pressed down on your belly, cum pooling between your legs as they cooed and gently fucked their own seed into you. By the end of the work day, you were spent, curled up in the hay with several cow hybrids as the bulls guarded the door.

You were payed handsomely for your efforts, and offered an even bigger paycheck to let them mount you at least once a week to let out their sexual frustrations.

They became more territorial around you, but when you weren’t in the picture, the bulls were much calmer and didn’t attack anyone that brought out food or came to give them check ups.

And when you became pregnant… well… let’s just say you were tucked away in the barn, living there with the cows and bulls as your belly grew heavy and swollen.

The cows tended to you, making sure you received all the human comforts you wanted along with their endless affections, and the bulls kept you safe.

———————

A/N: omg… ask me more about this concept because… I’m in love

NSFW TAGLIST: @sunset-214 @screaming-crying-screamingagain @strawberrypoundtown @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @chubbumblebee @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @j3llyphisching @unforgettablewhvre @yoongiigolden

✧｡٩(ˊᗜˋ )و✧*｡ I need him to put me in a headlock so bad need him to make me feel weightless ✧｡٩(ˊᗜˋ )و✧*｡

something i catch myself staring at for longer than i should: