no one tagged me in this, but it looks fun so i'm stealing it. yoink!
rules: go to pinterest and type in the prompts below. whatever image pops up first is your image
prompts: color, quote, character, hobby, accessory, song lyric, flower
Tagging some moots - no pressure! @loverboykirstein, @aparalleliwouldlaymylifeon, @cheerynoir, @scarlettcryptid, @plastiktonne, @dynachan, and anyone else who wants to!
i’m not a billion percent sure how tumblr collages work but here is my attempt ☝️ and these results are pretty surprising because i am chronically depressed 🙈
no one tagged me in this, but it looks fun so i'm stealing it. yoink!
rules: go to pinterest and type in the prompts below. whatever image pops up first is your image
prompts: color, quote, character, hobby, accessory, song lyric, flower
Tagging some moots - no pressure! @loverboykirstein, @aparalleliwouldlaymylifeon, @cheerynoir, @scarlettcryptid, @plastiktonne, @dynachan, and anyone else who wants to!
dick's been overworking himself recently and all you want to do is take care of him.
pairing: dick grayson x reader
warnings: 18+, MDNI, p in v sex, riding, tears, boobplay, lots of comfort/vulnerability
a/n: this is the first of four oneshots i'll be posting of this series. i have three other parts planned (one for tim, one for bruce, and one for clark), but if anyone wants me to expand from that list, i'd be more than happy to!
Your boyfriend, Dick Grayson, might be the walking embodiment of eldest daughter syndrome. Independent and self-sufficient to a fault, he carries everyone's burdens and makes it appear effortless. He shoulders the weight of his family, his teams, his cities without breaking a sweat, and it seems as though you're the only one who's able to notice the faint tremor in his hands after a night that's stretched on too long, whether it's due to a tough patrol or mediating a fight he has no real stake in. That's just the kind of man Dick is.
Meanwhile, the performer in him is subconsciously obsessed with the way others perceive him. Dick wears a multitude of masks, some of which are so deeply ingrained into his person that most people don't even know they're in place.
Except for you.
So, when Dick comes home, shoulders slumped and wearing tension around his eyes that are usually so carefree, you immediately see the change. He walks straight to the bathroom, and the sound of water raining down onto tile starts moments later. You know better than to let his silence get to you. You'd rather he take the time he needs to decompress rather than try to force himself to act happy.
A few minutes later, the water kicks off, and Dick's walking into the bedroom. He barely has the energy to throw on a pair of boxers and lightly towel dry his hair before he's crawling into your shared bed and flopping down on top of you.
"Honey?" The concern in your voice makes Dick cringe internally.
"Long day. M'okay," he mumbles.
You smooth your hands over his body slowly, silently checking him over for injuries. Once you're sure he's actually okay and he's not obscuring any injuries from you, you poke his ribs. "Hey."
"Hm?" Dick doesn't bother lifting his head. If anything, he presses his nose even farther into the crook of your neck.
You know asking him what's wrong outright is a surefire way to get him to shut down completely. You'll just have to coax it out of him. Starting slow, you drag your hands up the curve of his spine and take your time massaging his shoulders and the nape of his neck. The muscle under your fingers is hard and tense, but it slowly softens and loosens under your touch.
"That's nice," he sighs. "You don't have to do that, though."
"You ever think that I just want to touch you? That I like taking care of you?"
"Sweetheart…" Dick lifts his head up and nudges his nose against your cheek, just to drag his mouth back down the length of your neck. "I'm supposed to take care of you."
"Says who?"
"Me. Because I—"
"Because you're what? A man? And I'm just a woman who needs you to take care of me?"
"That is not what I—hey!" Dick grunts, but doesn't fight you as you roll him over and straddle his waist. So much for the gentle coaxing you had planned. He shifts under you until his back is against the headrest, and he tugs you further into his lap, arms tight around your waist like he's trying to cage you to him.
Your hands splay out against his chest, and they slowly slide up to his jaw. "You may be the detective here, but that doesn't mean that I'm blind. Do you think I don't notice the bags under your eyes getting bigger? The way your shoulders slump? The way your smile strains around the edges? It hurts to watch, baby."
All the fight drains out of Dick at your words, not that there was much in him to begin with. His forehead hits your collarbone, and he sniffs loudly. You can't quite tell if it's from tears or if he's just trying to memorize your scent. Your hands thread through his hair anyway, and your nails trace slow circles over his scalp.
"Just let me love you the best way I know how."
He nods slowly and presses his mouth against your pulse point. His arms slowly release the vice-like grip he had around your waist in favor of letting his hands trace the curve of your spine. The warm softness of your body is helping to chase out the lingering chill of Gotham rain that his shower couldn't fully remove, and goosebumps are blooming across his tanned skin.
"I need you," he whispers as he starts planting open-mouthed kisses to your collarbone.
"In what way?"
"Everyway you'll let me have you." The confession is simple, coming out of his mouth with a surprising ease from a man who'd literally rather get punched in the face than become a burden to his loved ones, and it steals your breath away.
Once again, you start slowly: kissing his forehead, his temples, his eyelids, and all the way down the bridge of his nose before finally tilting his head up and pressing your lips to yours. Instead of the hungry desperation you were expecting from him, Dick kisses you with a tenderness that feels bashful. His palms cup your cheeks in reverence, and you're happy to meet his pace.
You spend a few minutes like that, kissing soft and slow and letting your noses nuzzle each other in between. It takes him that long to bring his hands away from your face, and he starts mapping out your body like it's his first time touching you all over again. Slowly, methodically, his palms drag across the length of your arms and over your stomach before he slides your sleep shirt off and brings his hands up to your chest.
"I missed you," he admits softly. His voice is fragile, the words almost blown away by the soft hum of the air conditioning and the rain still hitting the window pane. It's the first crack in his armor, a sign that he's finally discarding his masks and is instead turning to you.
"I missed you, too."
Dick lets out a quiet hum and begins pressing feather-light kisses over the soft skin of your chest, letting his breath ghost over you until you're shivering in his lap. Only then does he turn his attention to your nipples, gently sucking one of the buds into his mouth and lapping at the skin slowly. A few more flicks of his tongue have you rocking forward in his lap, and Dick lets out a low groan at the friction.
"Fuck, please," he whimpers. "I need you so bad, baby. So bad."
His pleas are met with a soft coo and a gentle hand caressing his jaw. "I know, honey. Just sit back for me."
Your shorts and his boxers are quickly discarded, tossed off the side of the bed haphazardly. All that's left is the warmth of your bare skin bleeding into each other and the swell of arousal building between the two of you. Dick's already leaking precum onto his abs by the time you wrap your hand around your base, and his head falls forward when you give him a slow pump.
"Don't…don't tease me. I won't last tonight."
"Don't think about that. I don't need you to last. I just need you to be here."
Dick nods against your shoulder and lets out a shaky breath as you shift forward, your soft thighs bracketing his hips. He shudders when you finally drag his silky head through your slick folds, and all the breath is stolen from his lungs when you start sinking down onto him. By the time his cock is fully sheathed inside you, he's holding onto your waist and letting out shaky breaths against your skin.
The first roll of your hips has Dick keening against your shoulder before he ultimately muffles himself by latching onto your breasts. His hands are everywhere, sliding up your back, down over your belly, groping at your thighs and ass, then settling on your hips for a moment. He's just clinging onto you in any way he can, searching for something tangible.
Every slick drag of your walls up and down his cock is punctuated by a strained moan. Dick's thighs twitch like he wants to fuck up into you, but the weight and warmth of you saps all of his will away until all he can do is hold you against his chest and mewl into the crook of your neck. It's pathetic, but it's beautiful; the fact that he's letting you take him apart like this is almost enough to make you cry.
Trust, love, and longing have always carved their place in your relationship with Dick, and all three are being poured out plainly tonight.
"You're perfect, honey," you whisper. "So beautiful." Dick's bicep flexes around your waist in acknowledgement, but he keeps his head ducked. "Can I see you, baby?"
He lets you lift his head up after a few seconds, and you finally realize why he's been so insistent on hiding his face: fresh tear tracks are streaming down his cheeks. You peck his nose, and he leans forward until his forehead is resting against yours. "Don't stop."
"Yeah?" You cup his cheek, and he turns his head to lean a smattering of kisses against your palm. "Are you close?"
"Mhm," he whimpers. His fingers dig into the plush of your hips, and his head lolls to the side as pleasure bursts behind his eyes. Pleasure and intimacy have always been available in abundance between the two of you, but this kind of lovesick vulnerability, the feeling of his entire being bared to you, is something else entirely.
"Cum for me, baby. I've got you."
Dick's hips give weak little thrusts upward as pleasure finally consumes him. He's moaning into your mouth, whispering half-finished thoughts in between quiet gasps of ecstasy. "S-so good, beautiful—so soft, shit…"
You're not far behind, and, with his cock twitching inside you, it only takes a few figure eights over your clit to have you tipping over the edge as well. The come down is slow. You're catching your breath between whispered confessions of love and adoration, and Dick's peppering kisses down the length of your arm.
Eventually, after the two of you have rinsed off and changed into comfy clothes, you end up lying on your back with Dick curled up against your chest. You can see him now, no masks or walls in sight. His face is squished against your sternum, his fingers fiddling with the hem of your oversized shirt.
"I've…had a rough few weeks." Your only response comes in the way your fingertips brush over his cheekbone, quietly encouraging him to continue. "I haven't been sleeping well. Damian is being difficult. Bruce won't talk about it. Being in the cave with them is like standing in a freezer. I want to help them work it out, but they won't let me."
"Baby, you can't solve all their problems for them. They need to be allowed to figure their own speedbumps." You rub slow circles into his temple, and he nuzzles closer to you. "They can't always rely on you to smooth everything over, even if it takes a while to sort out. If they don't want your help, you shouldn't force it."
"You're right," he whispers. "I just…"
"You love them," you supply.
"Yeah."
"We're all lucky to have you, y'know? But…" you grin down at him and scratch at his scalp, "doesn't it feel good to be taken care of?"
"Mhm." Dick kisses the crook of your neck with a sigh. "Never leave me."
"Not planning on it."
How could you ever leave him? As heady as the pleasure and the the afterglow of an orgasm is, nothing will ever compare to the rush you feel when Dick's lying on your chest, curled close with his heart open for you to see all it contains. There's nothing in the world you'd trade him for.
all written work and dividers belong to @ackpplepie!! do not plagiarize, feed my work into ai, or translate it. i do not own the characters or images used above.
virgin!nanami is hesitant the first time you go down on him, because as he's nearing his (blinding, earth-shattering) orgasm, you aren't pulling off. ☆
he's played the scene a million times in his head before; late at night as he palmed his cock through his boxers and tried to will his mind away from such lewd thoughts of you. in every fantasy he's had of you knelt before him like you are now, you serve him with your mouth until he's close, and then pull off to stroke him through his orgasm.
but your lips are still wrapped around him. his ragged breath, the gentle buck of his hips up into your mouth... is it not enough to tell you he's about to unravel?
kento has to lick his lips to try and save his dry mouth before he speaks, though it comes out as a broken moan anyways. "sweetheart, i'm... so close."
you hum around his cock, send a vibration up his spine that has his eyes rolling back. you hollow out your cheeks and increase your pace, desperate for a taste.
it's too much — he's never felt so boneless. nanami's right on the edge of the strongest orgasm he's ever had when he gently tugs back on your hair. "stop. stop."
you pull away instantly, wiping your spit-sheened lips dry and watching him with wide eyes. "are you okay? too much?"
kento is breathless, his cresting orgasm quickly fading out of reach. "you didn't pull away. i was going to... finish."
"well, yeah. you cumming is kind of the whole point."
he blinks. "i... not in your mouth. i respect you, and i don't want you to sacrifice your comfort for me."
you can't help but grin at the serious look that paints his face. you lean down and press a kiss to his knee, and then higher up on his thigh, and another just above the patch of hair that bases his leaky cock.
"kento nanami," you look up at him, pressing a feather-light kiss to his tip. "if i don't find out what you taste like when you 'finish' in the next few minutes, i might die. i think about it all the time, you know? touch myself wondering if you'd cum down my throat or make me hold it in my mouth a little. savour you, or whatever."
he blushes pink at the thought. your words are enough to relight the fire licking at his groin. he watches you for a moment; tries to discern whether or not you're only saying what might please him, but ultimately nods.
you don't throat him immediately, though. instead, you duck your head down and press a few messy kisses to his balls. his hips twitch upwards at the contact, his breath hitching in his lungs. you smile, dart your tongue out to lick at the source of his hesitation.
"god, that's dirty," he groans. "you like this?"
"i like you," you hum, mouthing at his balls with spit-covered lips. you're making a mess of him, though that only gives you an excuse to suggest showering together later. "like your balls too."
"i... shit, i see that."
he's so sensitive, knitting his brows together as you suck and lick and kiss his balls with a feverish sort of worship you didn't know you had in you. his cock rests against your face, throbbing as it hardens even more. he could cum like this.
but you aren't quite done with him.
when you pull back to take his cock back into your warm mouth, all the way down to the base, kento swears he must've been a saint in his previous life to deserve such pleasures in this one. you trace the vein that tracks the underside of his length with your tongue, and then hollow your cheeks out to suck.
he cums all too-quick and with a loud and uncharacteristically whiney moan that makes you wonder how he'd sound tied up and begging. it feels almost wasteful to take his load anywhere other than deep inside of you, but you're sure you'll have plenty of opportunities for that in the near future.
he tastes good. salty. you want to keep sucking, see if you can milk him for more, but he's already overstimulated and panicking a little at the sensation he's feeling. although you think he likes it, you know it'll be too much for his first time. you pull off, careful to spill as little of his release as possible, and sit back on your heels.
and kento is a mess. his lips part as he watches yours pull into a greedy smile. he's eager to watch you spit it out, perhaps just to see the visual reminder that he came in your mouth. but you meet his eyes, let him sit on your tongue a moment longer, and then swallow.
oh. he wonders how he'll ever lead a normal life again after a sight like that. his mouth is dry, cock still wet with your spit, heart beating out of his chest...
still, he manages to stop you when you move to get up and start on his aftercare. "wait."
THANK U GUYS FOR 3K MEMBERS OF THE COCOCOMMUNITY i am very grateful and honored and will continue to put out my bullshit for u all to see and enjoy (hopefully) 🫰🏽😊
saw this tiktok and felt a certain way | tw: mental health mentions, unhealthy family dynamics
you spent all your childhood birthday wishes on prayers that your parents would love each other. hoping that god, or whoever was up there would give you the type of family where your parents would just love each other, be affectionate. the type that kissed in front of their kids and showed them what true love was—gave you a chance to go ewww when they stared at each other with so much love it left no questions to be asked.
"toru," you whisper, staring up the ceiling. you know he's half asleep, his arm that had been wrapped around your shoulders had gone limp awhile ago.
still, he's conscious enough to let out a sleepy hum, stirring slightly to press himself closer to you.
despite his warmth, how safe you feel in this man's arms, your thoughts wander. you feel cold, tears well in your eyes as thoughts flood you—ones you shouldn't be having. but you can't help it.
you take a shaky breath, hoping to stop your tears from flowing before you speak. "what... what if we stop loving each other..?" it's barely above a whisper, words that seem to twist in the silence of your bedroom. you know your not being fair, your husband is tired, long day at work. overtime. he'd been putting in extra hours in preparation for your baby. you know this.
you have no right to question his love—no need. but you do anyway. your fist clenches on your belly, your unborn child squirming as if she feels what you feel, too. guilt makes the words catch in your throat. "i... i don't want her—i don't want her to grow up the same way i did." you stutter, and the tears fall.
gojo's awake now. he pulls you to his chest and squeezes you. knowing him, he's thinking of a million ways to reassure you, to tell you, to show you that you don't have to worry. but he knows you need this, need to let your emotions out. voice your insecurities so they don't eat you from the inside out.
"i spent so many nights... just wishing i was never born." you mumble, sobbing under each breath. "i knew i was the reason they couldn't separate, you know? and i felt that deep in my stomach, everyday. my dad was an asshole.. you know. he cheated in my mom—constantly. but... she— i— my mom... she knew i still loved him. so she stayed anyway. even as i watched her cry when she thought i wasn't looking. and when i asked, she just told me i deserved a complete family. that it was okay that they didn't love each other—because they loved me."
you're shaking now, that same guilt you felt all those years ago consuming you whole, coming back in heavy waves that shook your very core. the tears stream down your face as gojo pulls you flush to him, rubbing circles on your arm.
"it's not your fault, baby." he whispers in your skin. and you wish you could believe him.
"i'm sorry—i know your tired. i just i—" you sub, trying to rub the tears away. "i don't want her to feel the same way i did.. or.. or what if my history affects her? they say depression.. anxiety whatever—it's genetic." you hiccup, clutching onto his sleep shirt now.
"hey.. hey look at me. i need you to calm down," he grabs your face, steadying you with his hands cupping your cheeks. "breathe. that won't happen—"
"i never wanted to get married..." you whisper. "i didn't want to fall in love, or have kids, have a family." you admit. "because i thought of all this—thought of all the worst parts of it. but then i met you, and i love you—a lot. but i'm scared. i'm so scared. what if i mess up and everything ends up just like my family? what if you get sick of me, and we hate each other, and then our daughter hates herself—"
"that won't happen." gojo cuts in. his face is serious, uncharacteristically so. blue eyes stare firmly into yours. "i love you. that won't change. i can't prove it to you now, but i promise. i'll show you—every single day, time and time again. i love you. and that is not a question, it's a promise."
he takes a deep breath, then he smiles, soft and loving. "i know you're scared—i am too. we're not perfect, both of us. but we can make it work. i know we can. we're not your parents... i know.. i know i can't prove anything to you now, but i made those vows on our wedding day, and i have every intention of keeping every single one of them."
his thumbs slide under your eyes, wiping away your tears as your lips tremble. opening and closing your mouth, trying to find the right words to say. gojo watches you in silence, letting you process your emotions on your own accord.
your words are lost on you, escaping in the form of your tears. "i love you." you say instead.
gojo smiles wider, pressing soft lips to your forehead. warmth spreads in you from where his lips touch your skin. "i know, baby, and i love you. always."
he hugs you tighter but still comfortable enough that you fall asleep in his arms, exhausted from your tears. he watches quietly, still wiping your tears away, touch featherlight. he eyes stay on you until your eyes fall shut and your eyelids relax, until your breath evens out.
only then, does he let his own eyes shut. whispering i love you into your hair, before drifting back to sleep.
he may not know what your future holds, but he knows he'll be there for you, every step of the way.
It’s been a while since I’ve done one of these so… here.
Self Love/Confidence Boost
I want you to know something:
You didn’t fail in life. The people in your life failed you but that does not mean you failed yourself. Ok? You’re strong. You did your best. Gave it your all. And that’s ok. Ok? You don’t have to succeed to win in life. We all fail. But it’s important that we get back up. I’ll bet that when you manage to pull yourself up, you’ll show everyone just how wrong they were. But for now, just stay where you need to be. If you need to feel sad then go ahead and be sad for a while. Human beings are imperfect and rarely ever get something right the first try. And that’s ok. You’re allowed to be human.
baratheonpilled
ellievsbear
prguitarman
discoholicmusic
yousharknotpass
jacobvanloon
janainaart
