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#ohhhhh these are fucking gorgeous
partynthem · 2 years
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arctic monkeys @ kings theatre (22 september 2022)
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mrsfitzgerald · 9 months
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brussel3 💦
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inkykeiji · 1 year
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oH?????????? MY GOD
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thedevotionaltour · 1 year
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they have to stop letting martin try to make their electronic band into an unplugged one on tour if i hear one damn amazing synth track replaced by a piano i will leap onto that stage and hurt that old man myself
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jarofstyles · 4 months
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Oh ohhhhh friends to lovers pleaseeeee
6. "I wanna take you so fucking bad."
OHHHHH YES
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Harry really wasn't sure how he ended up here.
It was a scenario from his dreams, ones he'd never admitted to having to anyone else before, but he didn't know how he'd even gotten into this position with his best friend. Wine night had gotten out of hand, some sort of something had been said and the next thing he knew he had a lapful of Y/N and wine stained lips pressed against his own.
Her pajama pants were pulled tight on her ass, his hands unable to keep the temptation of it away from his brain. Rocking on top of him, she whimpered softly as his lips pressed to her hot throat. The layers between them felt flimsy and he could feel how hot she was for him. His best friend of 5 years, rolling her hips and holding his face against her sweet spot on her neck.
"H-Harry..." She breathed, tugging softly on the hair at the nape of his neck. "It feels so good... Why does it feel so good?" Her slow grind against his prick made him roll his eyes back into his head. It was childish, something he hadn't done in years, but it felt better than his last year of hookups combined. "Why didn't we do this before?"
Y/N always asked the real questions.
"Dunno... Should have." His fingertips pressed into the curve of her ass, the hot skin exposed from her shorts moving up. "God...You smell amazing." It was the little things like that. Teeth nipping her throat and being engulfed in her, realizing just how much he gravitated towards certain candles because they smelled like her. His brain always knew, was always plotting this even if he was trying his hardest not to. "I wanna take you so fucking bad." The voice that came from his throat was unfamiliar to him, wrecked and desperate. "But I can't. Not now."
"No... Please." She begged, pulling him from her neck to look at him. "Please, H. I need it so bad, I can't... I can't stop." He could see it in her face. She meant it. Y/N really wanted him to take her, and god knew his cock was desperate to sink into her hot cunt, get deep inside, stay there. Milk every drop of cum her had inside of her. But not like this.
"Can't... Not when we've been drinking." He frowned. "M'not gonna stop this.... Gonna let you rub yourself on my cock and let you cum. Not that cruel." He squeezed over her ass harder to get that pretty whimper from her mouth. "But I can't do it like this. You deserve more. If I'm going to fuck you... M'gonna do it right." He breathed, connecting their lips again. She tasted so sweet, the tiniest hint of sour from the drinks but it only added to it.
"How?" She whined. "How are you going to fuck me?"
It shouldn't have been so easy for him to spill, but it was. "Need you on a bed. Not my couch." He started, deciding to let his hands slip under her shorts and feel the full warmth of her skin against his. "Strip you down, get to see how gorgeous you are. I know it's gonna ruin me, sweetheart." No lies were told. They wouldn't be able to come back from that. "Kiss down your body... Gonna make little marks for you to remember me by. On your perfect tits, that stomach, those gorgeous thighs... Everywhere I can." His hands aided her rocking, shifting her just so and getting the gasp he'd desperately wanted from her. The thin shorts and his sleep pants were barely layers and he knew this would be the way to get her clit the way she needed.
"Then I'm going to split those thighs open and kiss you down there. Lick you up. Start slow and tease you a little, make you beg for me just like you did before... But then I'll give it to you. Suck on that clit until you can't take it and push my head away, make you cum on my tongue and stretch you out with my fingers. Know you're going to be a sopping fucking mess. Gonna want it all over my face."
"Fuck." Y/N keened, gripping his hair tighter. The action alone made his prick twitch in his poor excuse of pants, feeling the heat of her cunt bleed through and warm him up. Soon enough she'd soak those shorts and he'd be able to feel it make a mess of him. "What else?"
"Greedy thing, aren't you?" He chuckled. "mm.. Want to feel that mouth wrapped around my cock. Dreamt of it so many times but... Think I want our first time to be about you. Dunno how long I'd last with it." The mere idea of her sucking him off had been the subject of many wanks and he knew it would take an embarrassingly short amount of time to orgasm. "So instead, I'd spread you open and take you. I'd want to take you on your back at first- need to see the look on that perfect face while my cock stretches that cunt open." He groaned at the mere thought. "But I think we'd switch around a bit." One hand slipped out of the back of her shorts to go up her shirt instead. The hot skin of her back warmed his palm as he dragged it up and down.
"I'd love t'take you just like this. Watch you bounce on me, make a mess of my lap. Have your tits in my face..." He let his hand graze the side of one, making her shiver. "Suck on them. Make them wet and swollen for me, just like your cunt. But you'd get tired, hm pretty girl? Bouncing up and down like that, gonna make your legs burn... So I'd flip you over and get you on your knees..." His voice was muffled for a moment as she kissed him again with her sugary mouth. "I'd get you on your knees and watch you take me. See your ass move and hit my thighs... How you'd arch your back for me. I think that would be perfect." His hand kneaded her ass, spreading it a bit roughly as she gave him another pretty gasp. Her eyes were bleary and soft as she looked down at him, heat behind the gaze as she rutted on top of him.
"Would you do it hard?" She asked, swallowing thickly. "Would you spank me?"
Harry's eyebrows raised in shock at the question, but it shouldn't have. Of fucking course she was perfect for him. There was no way around it. "Yeah, I would. I'd go at the pace you want... and you're obviously a filthy thing. Had no clue you wanted something like that, but I'd give it to you." he pulled her back down to his lips, slipping his hand out of her shirt to give a light slap to her ass before rubbing over the area to soothe. It wasn't the hardest he could have gone but it was testing the waters. "Like that?"
When she shook her head, he couldn't help but smile. "Harder?" He repeated the action, harder this time. It made her jolt, the stinging skin getting a whimper as she nodded against him. "Fuck me... You're what I needed all along, aren't you? Been under my nose the whole fucking time."
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mochimooon · 6 months
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DTF Only (Girl Dinner) - jean kirstein x reader 18+
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pairing: Jean Kirstein x afab! Reader summary: It's Hump-Day and your latest match, Jean wants to wine and dine you. word count: 4k+ notes: Part 5 of DTF Only. My fav, Jean's turn 😊💗 Indented text refers to Reader's messages. warnings: smut, explicit content, explicit language, dirty talk, alcohol consumption, oral sex (f! receiving), vaginal sex ☻ masterpost☻
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT 18+ !!
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Hey! :) You’ve got a pretty smile.  How’s your week going?
Tinder has quickly become part of your daily routine. At night, you fall asleep swiping. In the morning, you catch up on new messages as you pour a cup of coffee. 
The man—a gorgeous man—behind the latest message stirs your sleepy mind wide awake.
A handsome face with an equally handsome smile, a jaw framed with a dusting of scruff that adds a rugged touch to his refined beauty. 
Jean’s a year older than you are, works in property management, loves to travel, and he’s open to anything. Friendships, hook-ups, long-term commitments. Vague. 
Scrolling through his photos, you pause on a group picture. He towers over everyone in the frame, and you notice his height is left out of the bio, letting the pictures speak for themselves. Given the apparent stature, your imagination runs wild…
He looks great in every single picture, whether in a suit or dressed casually, Jean’s confidence is effortless through the screen. He even snuck in a shirtless photo of him by the pool, and you’re not disappointed in how he looks in those swim trunks. Good boy…
You are shooting your shot here and now. 
Week has been interesting so far lol Are you a local or in town for a visit?
His response is immediate.  
Local ;) Can I take you to dinner tonight?  There’s a new spot I think we should check out.
Another date. It would be a sin to say no.
7pm works best for me. Where’s this spot?
“Ohhhhh….he’s…good job…” 
After sending a picture of Jean to the group chat, Pieck is at a loss for words on the phone call.
Even Ymir gives her own seal of approval. “Alright, so far, he’s more your type. Tall, classic pretty boy. Unlike that doofus from the other night.”
“Cory?” Pieck says.
You sigh, looking out the car window, the cityscape shrinking away. “Connie was not a doofus, he was fun!”
Ymir scoffs on the other line. “Whatever, this Jean dude gets points for wanting to take you on a proper date. He’s already trying to impress you, and you know what that means…” Her voice channels into a devilish tease. “He might take you to a fancy hotel, pop some bubbly, and then chase it down with…”
Being the freak that you are, your thighs clench together. You dart a look at the rearview mirror, hoping that your Uber driver hasn’t taken notice. 
“We’ll see. I might not take it that far tonight.”
Laughter fills your ear. Pieck and Ymir don’t take you seriously. 
“Don’t stop now,” Pieck says. “Ymir’s right, Jean looks promising. It could lead to something more.”
You frown. “I’m not looking for anything serious.”
Ymir clicks her tongue. “Keep it open-ended. If this guy wants to spoil you with dinner and fuck you, then you’ve struck Tinder gold.”
“I thought the whole point was to explore?”
“That’s exactly what you’re doing,” Pieck says. “It’s how dating works, keeping your options open and enjoying the process, regardless of outcome. Ymir and I just want you to be happy.”
Ymir pipes up in agreement. “Yeah, we’ll always support you for hookering.”
You smirk, endeared by that sentiment. 
The Uber pulls to a stop, and you end the call. 
Despite the traffic in the city, you’ve made it to the restaurant five minutes early. You enter through the front, taking stock of the place.
It’s a coastal spot, offering outdoor dining that overlooks the ocean on a large patio.
You watch people saunter in and out, dressed much sharper than what you’d find at the local surf-n-turf. Even the host is dressed to impress, wearing a suit as he answers a call with polished etiquette. 
When Jean had sent you the restaurant info, you had given it a onceover after searching it up. From the location and seafood fare, you knew it’d be fancy, the kind of place that serves top-shelf wine and scoring a reservation is akin to winning the lottery. 
And as you soak in the venue, you’re doubly impressed. This place is fancy fancy.
Jean said he made reservations for 7pm under his name, but you’re unsure if you should check in or wait for him. 
There’s no need. A minute after your arrival, you catch a smooth voice uttering your name.
Spinning on your heel, you struggle to keep from grinning ear to ear.  You’ve been lucky all week and Jean’s no exception, outdoing his profile like a reverse Catfish. 
Who were you kidding? Your friends were right not to take you seriously. You need to sleep with this man.  His tall frame is poise as he steps forward, a beautiful smile widening. Light brown eyes sip in your appearance. You straighten your spine, discreetly jutting your chest out to appear graceful yet fuckable.
“Hi, it’s nice to meet you in person,” he laughs, a long arm wrapping around you gently. 
You lean into the hug, senses drenched with his cologne. He’s dressed for the occasion, a clean-pressed, button-down shirt in navy, a matching blazer overtop. The top button is undone. You’re shameless, stealing a glance at the skin. 
His eyes do another sweep, settling on your chest for a few seconds before snapping up to meet your eyes. “You look beautiful.”
“Thank you,” you say, coquettish as he extends his arm for you to take.  
Together, you approach the host. 
“Kirstein at seven,” Jean supplies. 
A quick review from the host behind the counter and he smiles, grabbing menus. “This way.” Leading you both out to the patio for your table, he turns around. “Ever been to an oyster bar before?”
Jean gestures to you.
“First time.” 
The host stops at a table near the center, a comfortable distance from the glass railing to take in the ocean view, but far enough that you won’t be freezing all night. 
Jean pulls your chair out, taking his seat afterwards. The host briefs you two on the menu, and after explaining the wine selection, Jean orders a bottle for the table. 
“The blue suits you,” you say, nodding. Under the glow of the string lights and heat-lamps, you can’t stop ogling him. “On theme for the evening.”
Jean unrolls the silverware from the cloth napkin, giving you a cheeky look. “Thank you. Glad you were free tonight. I know it’s kind of last minute, so I appreciate the flexibility. Didn’t want to miss out on a chance to see you.”
“How could I say no?” You bat your lashes. “Trying to be more spontaneous these days.”
Jean huffs an amused breath. “I can relate. It’s healthy to be spontaneous sometimes, breaks us out of routine.”
You hum in agreement. That’s something you’re quickly learning. 
A waiter arrives, presenting the wine bottle Jean had ordered with the host. A white wine variety that that pairs well with shellfish. Neither of you waste too much time deciding on the menu, placing an order for their popular oysters. And the waiter disappears. 
Jean reaches over, pouring wine into your glass. “Can I ask what brought you to Tinder?”
You lean your chin into your laced fingers, shrugging. “It was my friends’ idea. ‘You’re single, you should be out there exploring’.”
“A little peer-pressure is harmless,” Jean teases. “If not for them, we wouldn’t have matched.”
You laugh faintly. “I’ll thank them later. Besides, it’s become the new norm to meet people online. That’s why you’re on it, right?”
He flashes his teeth. “Yeah, it’s not as weird anymore as it once was. My friends, colleagues, almost everyone’s hopped on it. In the end it’s no different than meeting at the DMV or at a coffee shop.”
You smile. “Like a meet-cute?” 
Jeans smile crinkles the corners of his eyes. “Is that what they call it when you meet offline?”
“Rom-com lingo. Meeting someone where you’d least expect to meet. I guess it can apply online too.”
“Are you looking for anything in particular?”
Aside from casual sex, nope.
Beyond that, you don’t know. You’re in a lull, still processing how to feel about your breakup. You suppose you could just say, you’re looking for a fling, but saying that aloud seems too bold, and if you’re being honest kills the mood. Sex is most rewarding through the art of seduction.
“I like to keep things open-ended, so whatever happens, I guess I’ll figure it out later.” 
Jean nods. “Same here, I like to go with the flow, see where it leads.” 
From the way his eyes dance from your lips to your chest, you don’t need him to clarify his answer. It’s staring right at you, six foot three with ash brown hair that graces his nape. You want to run your hand back there, maybe yank it a little.
Jean raises his glass, meeting your eyes. “Cheers to whatever happens.”
You exchange pleasantries, getting a better feel for each other. He talks about how he got into his field of work, and you explain what your days are like working from home. 
It’s tame and safe…for now.
The tray of oysters is set down at the center of the table, arranged neatly.
“Glad you’re not picky about seafood,” Jean says. 
“I like most but never had oysters. They don’t look as intimidating as I thought they’d be.”
Jean squeezes a lemon wedge over the spread. “I think you’ll like them.”
“I’ve heard it takes a special kind of palate to enjoy them.” You tilt your head, and his smile understands that you’re not talking about the shellfish. 
“The texture takes some getting used to. But they’re a superfood. They’ve got protein, antioxidants, they boost energy.” 
There’s a pause, a bold shift passing across the table. 
“And a stimulant,” Jean finishes. 
You hold Jean’s stare for a moment, reading where the line of small talk blurs. It’s a tempting lure, and you take the bait. “An aphrodisiac.” 
There’s a glint in his eyes that reaches his pearly whites. “Exactly.”
You shiver, goosebumps coating your skin.
Jean looks to the plate of oysters, reaching for one. You do the same, tipping the shell up without breaking eye contact as the flesh disappears behind your lips. 
The texture is a little off-putting, but you chew it enough to assess the briny taste. You swallow, puckering your mouth, reaching for your glass. 
You wash the oyster down with white wine and sigh. 
Jean’s stare flicks to your wine glass. “You got lipstick on it.”
You spare the glass a look, arching a brow. A distinct nude imprint is stained on the rim like a delicate kiss. 
The corner of your mouth curls. “Guess that means I’ll have to redo it. It’s my favorite shade, but it’s not long-lasting. Rubs off too easily.”
“That right?” Jean purrs, a smirk ghosting his lips. “I thought the point of wearing lipstick was for it to get ruined.”
The brisk ocean air turns humid, leaving you breathless and setting your pulse aflame. You look forward to seeing where the night takes you.
A few more helpings of oysters (and a little more wine) later, the flirtatious back and forth darken to vulgar language whispered across the table and shameless eye-fucking. 
“I want to feel you squeeze around my cock,” Jean intones, low and gravelly, and meant for your ears only. 
You bite your lip, imagining how hard Jean must be right now. You shift in your seat, crossing your legs tighter under the table, but that doesn’t help at all. You’re so horny you want to crawl across and devour him. 
The waiter returns, you and Jean doing your best to tone it down. 
“Another bottle of wine for the table?” 
“No, we’re fine, thank you,” Jean says, smooth like silk as if he wasn’t dirty-talking you just seconds ago. 
“Can I get you two anything else?” 
Beneath the table, you drag your foot up Jean’s leg, looking at the waiter with an innocent smile. Subtly, you bring the tip of your heel to nudge Jean’s muscled thigh. It’s subtle and secretive and gets the exact response you want from Jean.
He masks the hitch in his throat as a chuckle.
You can tell he’s losing his patience, unable to resist the crackling tension. His equilibrium hangs by a thread.
He addresses the waiter with an even tone, but you’re not deaf to the whisper of urgency behind his words.
“Just the bill.”
Jean white-knuckles the drive to his place. His other hand rests on your thigh, pressing his fingers into the flesh. Unable to control yourself, you take his hand to stroke along your face.
He flicks a glance from the road, caressing his thumb across your lip. You nibble his thumb, smiling around it when Jean groans. 
It’s cute how riled up he’s gotten, and you can’t deny how much it turns you on.  
You suck on his thumb, whirling your tongue around it. “Do you like this, Jean?”
Eyes trained on the road, Jean can only manage a strained hum. “Mhmm—”
It’s a rhetorical question, because you already know, and before you realize it, he’s pulled into a parking structure and kills the engine. 
Jean all but grabs you from the car and tugs you up the elevator to his apartment. He bites back a displeased grunt, sliding his arm from your waist upon seeing a few people inside. 
The other tenants give you both a brief onceover and turn away as they read the room, fraught with so much sexual tension.
Reaching the fifth floor, Jean’s hand squeezes yours as he politely excuses you both, wishing the other tenants a good night behind a strained smile.
It’s a short walk to his door. Jean’s keys scratch at the keyhole a few times, distracted to get it open. It’s not his fault your hands roam around his torso, mapping out the taut muscles beneath his shirt.
The door clicks open, and Jean drags you inside, whirling around.
Your back hits a wall, mouth seized in a fiery kiss. Reaching for his shirtfront you pry it open, popping a few buttons. Your fingers graze lines of chiseled muscle, fingers brushing against his nipples as you help him slide the shirt off. 
Jean hisses into your mouth, taking hold of your thighs to lift you up. He’s on the move, deepening the kiss, kicking a different door open. 
You land on your feet, and with enough willpower, you pull away for air. “Jean…”
Light brown eyes gloss over your face, rich like scotch. He’s so much bigger than you, can easily pick you up again and toss you to the bed. It’s an enthralling idea until a different thought crosses your mind.
“Jean.”
He hums against your pulse, peppering that spot with a few more kisses before he resurfaces. Anticipation hangs over the edge of his smile, eager for you to give him a signal.
You make a bold request. “Get on your knees.”
Surprise flickers along Jean’s brows, stretching to his hairline. But it’s replaced with brightened excitement. He kisses your cheek, then drops to floor, peering up at you, a dog waiting for a bone.  
Despite the current dynamics, you feel a little timid then, wondering how far you can go with this. 
Jean’s eyes flutter shut, melting at the feel of your nails carding through his hair. 
“Does that feel good?” you ask in earnest. 
Jean nods heavily, looking up with a lidded gaze. “Yes…” 
You catch the slow bob of his Adam’s apple, and you lick your lips. “What about this?” You’re still testing the waters, reaching for the back of his skull. You tug his hair, pulling his head back.
“Yes…” 
Shit. Jean’s so quick to yield to your touch, it makes your pussy throb.  
Hiking up your dress, you throw a leg over his shoulder. 
Jean’s eyes drown in the lace of your panties. “So fucking pretty…” he husks. He grabs onto your thigh, kissing your pussy through the fabric.
You moan, rewarding Jean with another comb through his hair. Nails dig a little deeper, again testing both his and your limits. 
He sighs in bliss, pulling you closer to bury his face against your panties, kissing your clit, you nearly falter. 
Jean’s mouth opens to slot over your pussy, licking the thin fabric for a taste of the slick that’s soaked through. 
“Yes…just like that…” Your fingers massage Jean’s scalp, a command to continue. 
“You taste phenomenal. I’ve been dying to have you like this all night.”
Moans float from your mouth and cascade to the floor; you can’t stop yourself from bucking your hips to match the rhythm of Jean’s mouth. 
He pushes back, though his lips linger above your waistband, fingers hooking into the sides.
Your hand moves from his scalp to stroke his face, restoring his gaze.   
He’s a man enchanted, face flushed, and pupils dilated. He’s absolutely pussy-drunk.
You thumb his swollen lips, stained with your lipstick. His mouth opens a little wider with a hunger that gnaws at your stomach. 
You tug on his lower lip. “Use this.” You drop your hand, sliding your leg from his shoulder.
Jean’s quick to understand. He grabs your hips, fingers reaching to grope your ass as he takes the side of your underwear in his teeth. He drags it down, switching to the other side to do the same, eyes going skywards to ensure that he has your full attention. 
It takes some time, but you’re grateful that Jean’s hasty. Any longer and you would have asked him to rip the lace. When they reach your knees, you and Jean lack any more patience. He pulls them off in one fell swoop of his hands. 
Your leg comes astride his shoulder again, a sharp breath digging deep in your chest, fixating on the view below. 
Jean’s eyes reach yours, his breath hot and humid against your pussy. “I’m gonna devour you.”
And he’s all in, tongue thrusting into you, nose nudging your clit. 
You whimper, grabbing onto Jean’s hair for leverage, savoring the feel of his mouth. You’re so sensitive, already so close to the edge. Your body moves on its own, hips bucking to grind against Jean’s face. 
He eats you out with desperation, hungry to please, as though he’s been waiting for this moment all night long. His fingers press into your hips, a beautiful, bruising pain. 
He doesn’t stop to pull for air, nor does he resist your hand guiding him for deeper contact. It’s like there’s nowhere he’d rather be. 
Gasps burst out of your mouth, aware of nothing else but Jean between your legs. Your mind is close to slipping away, but as you toe the edge of ecstasy, you release Jean’s hair to tap him urgently on the shoulder. 
He draws away, slack-jawed, threads of drool and slick breaking apart.
“Bed,” you breathe. “On your back. I want to ride you.”
With that incentive, Jean’s on his feet one second, and plopped onto his bed the next. He’s so tall, he takes up most of the space. That doesn’t matter, however, as you crawl on top of him, taking his wrists and bounding them at the sides. 
You inch closer to his face. Jean lifts his head to meet your lips. The kiss is hungrier than ever, and at the feel of Jean’s bulge between your legs, it’s clear that you both have starved long enough. 
Pushing back, you slide off, searching the floor. 
You swipe up your clutch, tossing it away a second later to flash the wrapped condom, ready to tear it open.
Jean props himself on his elbows, shaking his head. “It won’t fit.”
Your brain lags, at first, but lowering your gaze at Jean’s crotch, it dawns on you. Your finger hooks into the waistband of his underwear, drooling at the impossible to ignore outline of his cock.
Jean grabs something from the drawer of his nightstand. “Here.”
He hands you another condom—a more sizeable one. 
You blink, taking it, and drag his boxers away. 
Jean’s cock springs up, slapping your wrist.
It’s…big. 
You stare, mouth agape, unsure if you want to suck him off or ride him. 
“It’s waiting on you,” Jean rasps.
You look up to meet his smile, more humble than smug. He grabs hold of his cock, stroking along the skin, rubbing past the thick vein plunging down the base. 
He takes your hand gently, guiding you to stroke him. 
When he lets go, you’re stunned with how fucking heavy it is, mind spinning with how much it’ll stretch you out. 
Not wasting anymore time, you tug on his boxers and pants. He lifts up, pushing them down to assist and he’s naked underneath you. 
After sliding the condom on, you straddle his lap, ripping your dress off, giving Jean a moment to play with your tits and appraise your body. 
“Stunning…” he purrs, the word scrapes against his throat.  
“I’m going to ride you now Jean.”
He nods, hands on your hips. “Please do.”
You brace yourself with a deep inhale, still in awe as to how all this will fit inside you. Regardless, with the help of Jean’s large hands, you lift up, biting your lip as you slowly sink onto his cock. 
The stretch is immediate, tender, and intoxicating. Still, you’re careful, taking your time, relishing in the feel of your pussy sucking him in, bit by bit.
You catch Jean watching his cock disappear inside of you, his mouth hanging open. 
Sinking further, you gasp, already so full before you’ve taken all of him. It’s like time came to a still just for you to embrace the moment he’s fully sheathed inside of you. 
Jean waits for a signal, patience stuttering from the twitch of his dick. He’s traveled so far into a trance, the only way for you to reach him is to move. 
It’s a tentative start, a roll of your hips to ensure you still feel comfortable. 
Jean hisses, squeezing your hips. A muscle ticks in his jaw and your pussy spasms. You’re done being cautious. 
You lean forward, splaying your hands across his toned chest for support and bounce on his cock. 
Jean lets out a choked moan.
You ride him, moving up and down, gasping from the stretch and slide of his dick against your walls. The momentum builds as your hips move faster. 
Your thighs ache, and you fight against it. But your muscles cramp up for a bit, forcing your hands to slide forward from Jean’s chest to his shoulders. 
His hands leave your hips, taking your wrists. 
Your pace dials down, blinking in surprise when he wraps your hands around his neck. 
“Make it tighter,” comes Jean’s ragged breath. 
You apply pressure, stunned to feel the beating of his pulse quicken. You try to pull back, but Jean presses his hands over yours.
“A little harder.”
A low groan slips past Jean’s mouth, his Adam’s apple rolling against your palm. He gives you a delirious smile that curls down your spine. 
He’s at your mercy. He wants to be at your mercy, and it ignites a new flame inside of you.
With a firm grasp on his neck, your tongue dives into his mouth.
“Touch me,” you say against his lips, building up speed again. 
Jean’s thumb finds your clit, swallowing hard when you moan. 
You don’t mean to squeeze harder, but Jean’s dick jolts anyway. 
The momentum triples, your pussy tightens around Jean, and with another look at him—hooded eyes and gaping mouth—you cum, pleasure pulsating through every nerve. 
Your orgasm loosens your hold on Jean’s neck, but you continue to ride it out, despite the trembling thighs. 
Jean takes care of the rest, taking your hips to thrust into you, cock twitching and a satisfied moan echoing in your ears.  
Your movements become meager, thighs cramped, energy drained. Jean’s cock softens, you fall to his chest, wiggling off his lap. He’s so big, your pussy feels hollow without it.
Jean heaves a deep breath, an arm snaking around your back. He reaches behind you to slip off the condom and tosses it aside. 
Time moves again, your breathing evens out, head clearing that you’ve become aware of Jean’s fingers trailing up and down your spine. 
You look up, exchanging a tired smile with his. “You like getting choked?”
His smile broadens, a blush paints his face. “Sometimes. I like it when a woman takes the reins.”
You huff a tired laugh, replaying the image of Jean moaning with your hands wrapped around his throat. You’re all for equal share in the bedroom, but sometimes a part of you burned to take the lead. Though you don’t mind the opposite either.
“And other times,” Jean continues, stroking up your back until his fingers tangle into your hair. It’s a gentle pull, though firm enough to drive his next point with a devilish look. “I like to have total control.”
A new fantasy pricks your mind, a visual of Jean standing before you with you on your knees. You swallow that thought for now, remembering Ymir’s words.
“Keep it open-ended.”
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☻ masterpost☻
taglist: @moonmalice @daisynik7 @theragethatisdesire @squidalapobre @arlerts-angel
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wynnyfryd · 3 months
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Trailer park Steve AU part 42
part 1 | part 41 | ao3
cw: irreverent religious imagery, general fucknastiness, minors look away (informal D/s dynamics, fingering, cum play, take me to church)
“Ohhhhh, fuck, oh fuck oh fuckohfuckoh—”
Eddie yanks his hips up higher. He’s got him hoisted up in bridge pose: weight up on his shoulders, cock aimed at his own mouth and threatening to blow, legs squeezing Eddie’s hips as Eddie pulls him apart. One hand spears three slick fingers inside him while the other delivers pleasure and penance, stroking him off so sweetly one second then striking tender flesh the next, and hysterically Steve thinks of the girl he lost his virginity to; how she kept making all these breathy, whiny cries in the back seat of his car — so big so full oh fuck Steve oh my god. Steve had always assumed she was embellishing a bit for his benefit, y’know? Like
Reality: Ribbed for His Pleasure.
But now Eddie crooks his fingers up while his free hand slaps down mean and sharp on the top of Steve’s thigh, and Steve fucking shouts. Apologizes to Mallory in his mind and lets out a hideous noise, all pitchy and strangled, his throat full of spit, his eyes filled with tears.
Eddie digs his nails into the skin he just slapped. “You wanted this,” he reminds him with a gorgeous, rasping grunt. Feral, filthy noises that shouldn't sound so beautiful but echo through Steve's mind like a pipe organ in a stone chapel.
Eddie twists his buried fingers; makes Steve's whole body clench. “Said you could take it, didn’t you?”
“Yeah,” Steve pants, head rocking against the floor with the force of Eddie’s thrusts. Fucking him without fucking him; hips working in tandem with his fingers, pretty pink dick smearing precum on Steve’s thigh.
“Say it,” Eddie commands.
“I can take it.”
“Yeah, you can.” He drapes himself over Steve, bucking against him still, fingers moving faster, breaths speeding up. "My pretty baby," he coos with his mouth hovering inches away. "Can take anything I give you."
Steve licks his lips and wishes, grotesquely, that he had numbers on his wrist. Wants to bend the universe's will so he can stay in this moment forever.
He settles for chasing Eddie's lips with a wet kiss, straining his neck to wriggle his tongue past smiling teeth. "I can take it," he confesses against the slick drag of Eddie's mouth. Repeats the mantra, call and response like he's in church.
Eddie's hand recites the homily, jerking faster, willing release, and he pulls back to aim Steve's aching dick toward his mouth; gives him a serious look. One last chance to bow out.
"Even this?" he asks, readying Steve to pour communion down his own throat.
Steve sticks out his tongue. Looks up at Eddie with wide, reverent eyes — this Hellfire boy with demons inked into his chest — and he thinks this is the closest he's ever felt to God. Something about this feels sacred. Ritualistic renewal; rebirth and covenant.
He nods feverishly.
"Jesus Christ," Eddie groans, and he crooks his fingers in again and squeezes his other hand harder at the base of Steve’s cock. He’s leaking all over him, twitching and flexing as he thrusts; getting Steve all messy and wet between his legs. Steve wants to be fucked so badly he might cry; wants to feel it for real, the head of Eddie’s cock popping past the ring of quivering muscle.
He’s about to ask for it, beg for it — balls drawn tight against his body, tears streaming from his eyes — but then Eddie chants “Open wider, Stevie; you can do it, baby, come on” and Steve baptizes himself, spilling hot over chest and chin, reborn under the guidance of Eddie’s holy, healing hands.
part 43
tag list in separate reblogs under '#trailer park steve au taglist' if you'd like to filter that content. if you want to be added please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)
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pandorxxx · 1 year
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Sing for me
Lo’ak x Avatar fem reader (all characters are aged up)
Warnings: heavy smut, cursing, pinning, neck grabbing, praise kink, breading kink, daddy kink, p in v, slight oral, multiple orgasms, creampie.
🔞Minors, do not interact🔞
You and lo’ak were sitting in your room, listening to your playlist from back home. Unlike the other sully children, Lo’ak was very intrigued by earth music. He always wanted to know more about it. So every Friday night, he would come by and listen to some of your favorite playlists, until you two would fall asleep.
“Damn, what’s this song?” He asked, sprawled across your bed in a starfish position as the song beamed through the room.
“sky by playboy Carti.” You started, scrolling through your phone as you nodded your head to the beat. You glanced up, watching Lo’ak’s tail tap the plush bed in excitement.
“You must like this one.” You chuckled, placing your phone on the table, and sitting back in your desk chair.
“Hell yeah! Shit is niceeee!” He smiled, also nodding his head to the music. He glanced over to the led light remote.
“What color are we thinking, mama?” He asked taking the remote in his large hand, pointing it to the ceiling. “Uhhh, what about purple?” You asked, spinning your self around in the chair.
“You read my mind, baby.” He chuckled, changing the color to purple, before placing the remote to his side. He turned his head to you, taking in your gorgeous body under the dim lighting. He licked his lips, eyeing you up and down.
“Y/n…” he spoke lowly, grabbing your attention instantly. You locked eyes with him, knowing what that look meant. “Yessss?” You trailed, tilting your head with an all-knowing smile plastered across your face.
“why are you so far away? Comere.” He smiled, signaling you to come and take a seat on his lap. you rolled your eyes, grabbing your phone before walking over to him. You climbed over him slowly, before taking your place on his lap.
He watched your every move with lustful eyes, biting his lip once your pelvises met. “Hey mama…” he smiled, running his hands up and down your waist and back. “Hey, lo’ak.” You said sensually, running your dainty hands down his chest, all the way to his flexed abs. He trailed his hands all the way down to your phone that was sticking out of your loincloth band.
“What are you doing, skxawng!” You asked in an irritated tone. He snatched the phone, holding it all the way back so you wouldn’t be able to get it. You bent down, reaching as far as you could, but there was no use.
“Haha! Finally! You never let me see this damn thing!” He laughed, holding your hands down as he fiddled with the contraption. “I-I can’t believe that you tricked me, IDIOT!” You shouted, trying to pull your wrists out of his tight grasp.
“Leeetsss seee, what kind of songs do you have in here?” He asked sarcastically, scrolling through your playlists. He came across one in particular that made his eyes widen.
“Ohhh wow…who would’ve thought that YOU would have a…” he started, glancing at you briefly. You already knew what he was going to say, and you were mentally preparing for the embarrassment “Sex playlist?” He asked with a dark grin.
“Well, let’s see how sexy it really is, shall we?” He asked sarcastically, chuckling at your attempts to get out of his grasp.
“No lo’ak! Don’t, please!” You whined, shaking your head frantically. “Please what?” He asked, eyeing you up and down briefly before scrolling through the songs.
“You’re so fucking ANNOYING!” You shouted, still trying to get out of his tight grasp. “Ohhhhh what’s…feel it?” He asked with a grin, tilting his head as he awaited an answer.
“I-it’s a song, skxawng.” You scoffed, rolling your eyes at him. He raised an eyebrow, before swiftly flipping you over, now in between your legs.
“You’re so fucking smart, aren’t you?” He said sarcastically, letting your hands go to grab your neck harshly, knocking the wind out of you.
“I know it’s a fucking song. What’s it about?” He growled, Pulling you up to his face by your neck. “What playlist did you find it in?” You challenged, tilting your head. He chuckled at your witty remark, pushing you back down by your neck.
“You’ve got about 5 seconds to tell me, or I’ll just listen for myself.” He laughed, holding the phone in your face to tease you.
“Something tells me you’re going to do it anyway. So play it.” You smirked up at him, essentially calling his bluff. No way he was going to actually play it. He smiled, nodding his head at you before pressing play on the screen. Your eyes widened when the opening music came on.
“You told me to play it, mama.” He glared down at you, tossing the phone to the side.
I’m I’m i’m… I’m gon’ make you feel it. (x2)
The opening lyrics rang through the dimly lit room, setting a different vibe. A darker vibe.
You were visibly embarrassed, trying your best to avoid eye contact with the Navi hovering over you. Seeing as you couldn’t get out of his harsh hold on your neck, you covered your face with your shaking hands.
I’m gon make you feel it (x3)
“Nah, don’t get shy on me now.” He licked his lips, gently removing your hands from your face.
“I thought this was what you wanted? You’ve got an entire playlist dedicated to it, no?” He asked, slowly running his hands down your stomach, hooking his hand behind the band of your loincloth. You breathing hitched, watching his hand intently.
Tell me why you wanna be bad? (Bad)
Tell me why you wanna be bad, babe? (Bad, babe)
Sweatin’ while you callin’ me daddy (daddy)
Givin you the best you’ve ever had, babe (had babe)
Make me feel like you ain’t never had it. (Had it)
“They’re just songs, lo’ak!” You shouted in an irritated tone. He chuckled, pulling you closer to him by your loincloth band, before untying it.
Stretching you out
like you are elastic.(elastic)
Turn around, Poke it out
so I can grab it (grab it)
“Yeah right, turn around.” He spat, twirling his finger to mimic his command. You rolled your eyes, turning around for him. You laid flat, knowing that it would make him angry.
“You know how I want it, stop playing around!” He growled, holding the back of your neck tightly. You hissed, lifting your hips to meet his throbbing cock, covered by his loincloth.
Flip that ass over
like we in gymnastics
(gymnastics).
You nasty (ahh)
“Mhmm, just like that mama.” He spoke lowly, slapping your ass gently before ripping his loincloth off. You felt his tip graze against your clit before meeting his stomach. He grabbed his cock, jerking it in the direction of your dripping core.
“You feel that?” He smirked, rubbing his tip in between your folds, slightly pushing it in and out of your entrance. You bit your lip, turning around to face him.
“Mhmm, give it to me! I hate when you tease!” You moaned, arching your back, pushing your core against his throbbing cock.
“Ha! You want me that bad huh?” He chuckled, plunging his cock into you at an agonizingly slow pace. He placed his fists on either side of your head, thrusting into you hard and deep. You held on to his wrists, using it as leverage to meet his thrusts halfway. All that could be heard was skin clapping, moans, and the song in the background.
“Daddyyyy!” You whined, feeling him smash your sweetspot with every firm thrust.
“What’s wrong, mama? Talk to me!” He groaned, bending down to leave a trail of kisses down your spine.
“Y-your soooo-“ you moaned, before being silenced by a hard thrust. You squealed in pleasure, throwing your face into the mattress beneath you.
Ah, ah, baby, tell me that
you want it deeper
I don’t ever wanna come out.
“I’m so what? So deep?” He asked in a low voice, rolling his hips into your swollen sweetspot. Your soft moans were caught in your throat, and all you could do was nod with muffled whimpers escaping your mouth.
“No, don’t hold it in mama. I wanna hear you sing for me!” He growled, speeding up the pace. He slowly bent down, still rutting into you like an animal. He licked your ear before nibbling on the lobe.
“What’s my name? Whose balls deep in this tight little pussy? Huh?” He moaned, pulling your head up from the mattress.
“You a-areee!” You whined, knowing that wouldn’t be enough for him. He shook his head, sitting up. He held you up by the folds of your arms, thrusting into you nice and slow.
“Why do you love pissing me off, mama? Don’t you know I’ll break your little ass in half?” He growled through gritted teeth, gripping your arms tighter as he hit your sensitive sweetspot with every thrust. Your legs started to grow weak, trembling underneath you.
Put you in a coma,
Yeah a sleeper.
I know that your body’s
Been in drowse (so, girl)…
“Ok ok ok! Please-“ you shouted, trying to keep yourself up, but the pleasure was consuming you, bringing you closer and closer to your breaking point.
“Tell me what I wanna hear first, and then I might let up!” He let out a dark chuckle, holding your dainty wrists in one of his large hands, using the other one to abuse the plush skin of your ass.
“Say my name! Now!” He growled, spanking your ass with every word he spewed. “LO’AK! ITS ALL YOURS BABY!” You screamed, followed by your sweet moans. It’s was music to his ears.
“Ohhh mama! You know I love it when you sing for me!” Lo’ak smiled, watching your ass smack against his pelvis with such force.
“Baaabyyy!” You whined as your body started to shake lightly, signaling that your orgasm was approaching.
“I know, I know. You gonna cum for me? Huh? Come on, mama! I know you want to.” He chuckled, angling his hips to jam straight into your overstimulated sweetspot.
I’m gon’ make you feel it
I’m gon’ make you feel it
“I know you feel me, right? You feel this huge cock sliding in and out of this pretty little pussy? fucking you just right?” He whispered into your ear. God, did he know how to get you to your breaking point. He knew exactly what to say, when to say it, how to say it. Fuck he was just…perfect at making you feel good.
“Oh my God! Lo’ak I’m fucking cumming!” You cried, walls fluttering around his cock. He looked down, watching your cream coat his cock with every thrust.
“I know, mama! Let that shit out!” He grunted, thrusting into you slowly, letting you ride out your intense orgasm. He pulled out, bending down to French kiss your cunt, licking all the way up to your ass, planting a sloppy kiss on it.
“Do me a favor, baby?” He asked breathily. “y-yes daddy?” You asked out of breath, still trying to calm down from your orgasm. He hovered over your overstimulated body, bending down to your ear.
“Come ride this dick. I need you, mama.” He whispered, grabbing his cock with one hand, as the other one held him up. He slapped it on your ass repeatedly, groaning in your ear.
“I’m still hard for you. Help me, ok?” He whispered, kissing your cheek before rolling over to his back. You crawled on top of him lazily, using his chest to position yourself correctly. You slid down onto him slowly, moaning the whole way.
Tell me why you wanna be bad (bad)
Tell me why you wanna be bad babe (bad babe)
With the shots [pow, pow] you bust off like an uzi.
Think I’m gonna need another mag babe (mag babe)
Back that ass up on me like I’m juvie (juvie)
Bout nothing but action in this movie (movie)
He grabbed your wrists, keeping your hands flush to his chest. You stayed still, adjusting to his size in this position. He felt so much bigger, thicker. Filling you up just right, and fuck did it feel good.
“Come on mama, I got you. Just go slow.” He reassured you, pumping in and out of you gently.
You bit your lip nervously, slowly moving up and down on his cock as he held your hands in place. He bit his bottom lip in satisfaction, watching you speed up slightly when you were comfortable.
“Mmm give it to me, baby. Just like that!” He grunted, voice rippling from every harsh bounce to his lap.
“It’s goin’ down, turn around
Lemme feel yo booty.
I’m a private and your parts are my
Duty. Girl, give it to me…
“S-Sooo good, daddy!” You moaned, throwing your head back in bliss. You sped up the pace, bouncing on him harder than ever before. His tip hit your sweetspot everytime, opening up your flood gates. Juices flowing down the side of his hips with every bounce.
“Fuuuuckk girl! You’re so fucking wet. gonna make me cum. Is that what you want? Want me to paint your walls, huh?” He moaned, watching your face ball up in pleasure.
Ah, ah baby, you remind me
of my Jeep-er, the way your
bodies bouncing up and down.
Feels like a tsunami Or Katrina,
I swear I am deep enough to
drown Oh, girl…
“Yessss, please give it to me!” You whimpered, keeping your focus on the rhythm in which you bounced on his lap. He threw his head back, screwing his eyes shut in pleasure.
“Fuck *thrust* fuck *thrust* fuuuck *thrust*” he grunted, feeling his high approaching quickly. His cock twitched inside of you repeatedly, making you gasp loudly.
I’m gon’ make you feel it
I’m gon’ make you feel it
“Comere.” He commanded, placing his hand on the back of your neck to bring you down to his lips. Your lips crashed into his, moving in sync as the song rang through the room. He grabbed your hips as leverage to thrust up into you. You both moaned into the kiss, before you pulled away, placing your forehead on his as you stared deep into his lustful eyes.
“I-I’m gonna cum, daddy!” You whimpered, shaking your head from side to side from the overwhelming pleasure.
“Mhmm, keep looking at me like that. Wanna see you cum on this dick again.” He chuckled, staring into your exhausted eyes. He thrusted into you harder, deeper. Knocking the wind out of you with every stroke. You started to tremble on-top of him, whimpering and moaning as you met his thrusts half way.
“Cumming! cumming! cumming!” You chanted, eyes rolling back in pleasure as he watched you. Your walls trying so desperately to milk him for everything he has.
“Fuuuuck, mama!” He moaned, watching you rock back and forth on him to ride out your high. He was about to lose it, but he couldn’t yet. Not without seeing his favorite view.
“Baby, turn around. I wanna see this!” He bit his lip, gripping your ass hard. You smirked, lifting up to turn around on him. You held onto his knees, lowering yourself down onto his cock. You earned a guttural moan from him, as you squeezed his shaft the whole way down.
Till the end of time,
I fuck with you forever
Lil friend of mine.
Let’s bring this shit together
Make you feel it in yo belly.
You used his knees to bounce on him hard, and fast. He watched in awe, the way your ass met his lap with every bounce, it was amazing for him.
“Ohhh baby, don’t *thrust* fucking *thrust* stop!*thrust*” he grunted through gritted teeth, trying his best to hold on as long as possible. On the other hand, You were a mess; moaning and whimpering his name, working on your third orgasm of the night.
I can’t sing this shit
No better. Imma hit it
Like the pedal, won’t
You make it last forever.
He grabbed your arms, pinning them behind your back as he used the strength of his legs to thrust up into you again. Although he tried, he couldn’t help the feeling of always wanting to be dominant. No matter how good you were making him feel, he always had to make you feel better.
Hit you from the back
I know that imma make
You feel it. (Damn right too)
“Mmm right there, right there!” You screamed, hanging your head low. He poked around inside you, trying to find that spot that makes you scream bloody murder every time.
“Where, mama? Right…” he started, sending you one hard thrust. “Here?” He growled. You screamed to the top of your lungs, convulsing in his arms as your juices flowed with every thrust after that one.
Hit you from the back
I know that imma make
You feel it.
“YES THATS IT! RIGHT THERE DADDY!” You screamed, grinding into him to ride out your third orgasm. He shifted both of your arms into one of his hands, using the free one to smack your ass again.
“So fucking wet, mama! You ready for me to breed you? Make you mine?” He asked, reaching his hand up your waist, all the way to the bottom of your top. He slid his hand in, fondling your breast, and rubbing light circles around your nipple.
“I w-want it ngh! Sooo bad!” You whined, scrunching your eyebrows together as you felt him twitch inside of you.
“Shit, baaaabyyy!” He moaned. His legs started shaking underneath you, and before you knew it, you felt his warm seed shooting deep inside of you. You hummed in pleasure, rocking back and forth on him to work his seed deep inside of your womb.
I’m gon’ make you feel it.
I’m gon’ make you feel it.
Hit you from the back, I’m
gon’ make you feel it.
I know that I’m gon’
Make you feel it.
“Mhmm, you got any more songs I can fuck you to?” He chuckled, licking his lips. You lifted off of him, and he watched his cum drip out, running down his cock, all the way to his pelvis.
“Shit, we have to do this more often.” He spoke lowly, as you turned around on him, straddling his lap again. “I have a whole playlist dedicated to this, remember?” You replied innocently, lifting up to slide down onto him again. “We can do this all night, daddy.” He chuckled, eyeing you up and down.
He grabbed your neck, pulling you down to his face. He pecked your lips, reaching for your phone, placing it in your dainty hands before speaking:
“I guess it’s your turn then, isn’t it?”
Better than neteyam’s (idc idc idc) anyways, I haven’t written anything in a while lol, I’m sorry😭. I love y’all though, periodd!🫶🏽
Outtie ❤️🖖🏾,
Pandorxx
Taglist: @number1gal @loak-bae @tiredmamaissy @neytirishottie @viajaeger @terrorthewolf @lethargicluv @reyzzsostellar @pullandhug @m0nst3rfk3r @agelsully @jakescumdump @wekiamo @st-cass @cleardonutangelwagon @tsireqas @satanlovedays @afro-hispwriter @thecutieyahia @urfavgirlmakenna @fanboyluvr @iameatingmyhair @secretflowerobservation @violet-19999 @neteyamsprincess @xreadersstuff @lovekeeho @sweetllamaparadise @lia-nath @sullymenrhot @dotheyevenknowmars @xdbluesky @domino-x3-blog @ladylovegood-69 @itssomeonereading
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pianostarinwonderland · 2 months
Text
THEY FLIPPED HIS SPRITE??????
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THEY FUCKING WHAT????????????????
H E L L O ?
GIRL THE WAY THIS NEW POSE IS KILLING ME????????????
HELLO HELLO OHHHH MY GOD
Also ALSO THE LIVE 2D ???? THE SILVER EYESHADOW IS SO FUCKING GORGEOUS ON HIM OHHHHH MY GOD IM IN SHAMBLESSSSSSSSSSSS
also thank you for being nice to me zuzu 😭😭
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redeyerhaenyra · 5 months
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Oh, it isn't so bad
Summary: After weeks of not touching you, Anselm finally breaks
Warnings: Smutttt, exhibitiontionism? Fingering, p in v sex, titty play and cock warming if you squint, no beta we die
Notes: For @winniethewife! So sorry for the wait, also I think this came out terrible 😓
Wc: 665
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It wasn't fair.
At all! You could barely even remember what had led to your disagreement- but whatever it was, it didn't warrant this.
For three weeks now, Anselm hadn't touched you. He'd watched you though. It became ritual, every night before you go to bed he'd have you sit on the bed, spread eagle, and finger fuck yourself until you came. 
But then that was it. He'd tell you good job, kiss you goodnight, and then you would both curl up into bed together and go to sleep. It was maddening.
No matter how you begged and pleaded, he would not give in.
But tonight.. seemed different.
Tonight.. you may finally break him.
He'd already had a stressful day- having had to shoot 5 whole underlings for their incompetence, Anselm wished for nothing more than to fuck his anger away, but he was trying to punish you. For what? God even he didn't remember, and now, looking at you, wet and dripping and begging him for assistance, his cold heart ached. Poor thing, you'd done so well these past three weeks, he was truly so proud.
Anselm had made it his mission to understand your body so well so as to know exactly where along the line you were to orgasm. As, pathetically, you grew closer and closer to cumming without him, he finally broke.
“Scheiß drauf- stop.”
You raised your head, confused, only to moan as you realised he was approaching you to finally relinquish your punishment. He knelt one knee on the bed, as he leant over to undo and discard his leg brace.
You were practically shaking in anticipation, eye flitting between his gorgeous brown eyes and where his hand was undoing his belt.
He stroked your hair with his free hand, looking down adoringly at you, “Oh, yes, little one, excited are we? Yes, you've done so well, I am very impressed.”
Unconsciously, your hips bucked up, desperate for him to finally fill you. He giggled at your wanton display- “Alright alright, give me a chance, impatient thing.”
He mocked you, but he was just as needy as you. Briefly, he considered just rubbing himself off on your pussy, not in it, so as the further relish in your frustration. He knew you'd find a way to get him inside you, though. It was one of the reasons he adored you so, the way you always found the opportunity to have his dick inside you.
When, finally, Anselm pushed in- both his hands were desperately fidgeting nervously for the several places he wanted to put them. In the end, he decided on one hand holding your thigh, the other flitting between guiding his cock inside you, and rubbing at your clit. You gasped, the warm hazey feeling so familiar to you, yet so foreign after so many weeks without this, brought tears to your eyes.
Anselm was quick to kiss them away, building a deep, steady rhythm with his thrusts. 
“Oh, meine liebe, is emotional for you, yes? Ohhhhh, that's alright, yes, it's okay.”
Half of you wished he'd just hurry up and cum already, so you could feel it warming your insides, but Anslem wanted to draw this out. He had leaned over at this point, drawing your breast into his mouth, rolling your nipple between his teeth. 
Finally, you were over the edge, panting and whining as the one orgasm you'd been craving for weeks finally washed over you- the one where you came with him inside you. Anselm moaned into your breast at the feeling of your cunt pulsing around him. 
You fell backward into the bed, drooling into the pillow as Anselm picked up his pace, soon filling you with his cum, even still thrusting occasionally as his own euphoria died down.
Both of you sat like that for a while, Anselm's cock still buried inside you, Anselm himself tucked neatly between your tits. 
“Anselm?” “Hm?” “...Aren't you going to pull out?” He chuckled, proving his opposite point but thrusting his softening cock once more- you gasped at the feeling.
“Meine liebe,” he cooed, whispering into your skin;
“I am never pulling out of you again.”
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gerryrigged · 10 months
Note
not me popping in multiple weeks late to your wip list to inform you that the concept of tim going to jason in a sex pollen situation and dick being Displeased about this flipped a switch in my fucking brain. it just spoke to me okay, i'm obsessed. i understand that there probably isn't a lot to say on the concept beyond the fic itself but i'd be thrilled with anything you'd like to share! i am RAVENOUS
Ohhhhh Anon 🤗 that one ate my brain for a solid few days when it first stole up on me, so I definitely feel you. Jealous and possessive Dick is just too good!!!
Okay so this is post-Red Robin, and Dick and Tim's relationship is still a little strained. Like they’ve reaffirmed their care for and trust in each other, they're making efforts to repair things, but yeah. Still stuff they haven’t addressed, and the comfort level hasn’t been quite rebuilt yet. 
Also Bruce fucked off to build Batman Inc. and left Dick to continue as Gotham’s Batman with Damian as his Robin, so there’s still that. 
Anyway, Dick is particularly invested in improving his and Tim's relationship, because he's only become more attracted to Tim since he returned from his BruceQuest more centered, more himself - but also sharper and more enchantingly graceful and competent and gorgeous than he’s ever been before. He's also turned 18, and Dick is tentatively hopeful that they can finally address the potential between them that's lurked under the surface for at least a couple of years now. 
Because, haha, Dick thinks that they are BOTH aware of the long-simmering feelings between the two of them, and that Tim has just been considerate of Dick’s reluctance to start anything while Tim was still underage. He thinks that they had a kind of mutual, unspoken understanding to wait to explore those feelings until Tim was older, if they were both still unattached, and still interested. And okay, their falling out in Red Robin threw kind of a wrench into things but rebuilding their relationship now is a perfect opportunity to maybe try deepening it further 👀💘🥺💞🙏??? 
(HA. Tim has no fucking idea that Dick thinks of him as anything but his trusted younger brother figure 🙃) 
Anyway. Jason is still around Gotham, occasionally causing trouble, occasionally helping. He mostly stays in his carved out territory, but he’ll like, deign to coordinate with the Bats for pushback against Arkham breakouts, or city-wide gang wars, or like, alien invasions, maybe. 
At times, he seems to be circling the Bats. He’s made conversational overtures toward Dick when their vigilante paths cross, which Dick has warily returned. Dick has also spotted Red Hood with Red Robin once or twice; it made him tense and beeline toward them the first few times, but Hood always took off, and Red said it was just work, or Jason fucking around - that he didn't seem to be actively plotting any harm, at least. 
Dick isn’t exactly happy about it, but Tim gets huffy about Dick not thinking he can take care of himself (‘what happened to equals, huh?’) so Dick has to back off. He does extract a promise from an eye-rolling Tim that he’ll call Dick for back-up if things get out of hand and Jason seems to be falling back into old, potentially Tim-maiming habits. (‘partners, remember? that rely on each other?’) 
Then there's a multi-Rogue Arkham breakout. After splitting and converging in various teams to take out the rest, Batman (Dick), Hood, and Red Robin wrap up with Harley and Poison Ivy at the end.
It seems to go smoothly - for a hot second it looked like Red Robin was tagged by some kind of acid spat by one of Ivy’s flowers, but he must've dodged or was able to just quickly neutralize the substance with seemingly no side effects, because he seems okay.
Dick is anxious to get back home to check on Damian - Robin had apparently been knocked out in his and Batgirl’s fight against Scarecrow across town, and may have inhaled some gas when his mask tore.
But he stops, concerned, when he notices that Red Robin is lingering behind, not following. 
He stalls harder, frowning, when Tim snags Jason’s jacket to also keep him from leaving. But Tim just flashes Dick a strained smile. 
“Just want to yell at him about something, it’s fine,” Tim reassures him. 
“Oh yeah, that makes me want to stick around,” Jason grumbles. 
“I think you’ll want to hear me out,” Tim says, low and hoarse, fingers tightening on Jason’s jacket. He clears his throat when both Dick and Jason shoot him odd looks - or, well, an interrogative helmet tilt, in Jason’s case - and waves Dick off again impatiently. “Seriously, go. We’re fine.” 
It takes Tim getting pretty insistent to actually shoo Dick away - he’s weirdly reluctant to leave them alone, gaze fixed uneasily on Tim’s hand, still gripping Jason’s jacket, the way Jason is sort of leaning into Tim, something intrigued in his body language (what does he know that Dick doesn’t?) - but Dick does eventually, reluctantly leave. He’s definitely going to interrogate Tim later to figure out what that was all about. 
As you can imagine, it’s a real knife to Dick’s gut when he finds out that Tim was sex pollened, aware of it and actively fighting through it, and chose Jason to help him deal with it while Dick was RIGHT THERE. RIGHT FUCKING THERE.
I don’t think he finds out from Tim directly. Maybe from Oracle?? Maybe he’s waiting at the Manor for Tim to come by for a debriefing, and he never shows, and Dick gets increasingly worried until he looks up Red Robin’s location data and he’s. Still with Jason. For some reason. At the Bat safehouse nearest to that last battle. They’re right on top of each other, practically. 
Maybe he calls Oracle to fish for info and she (not having any more idea than Tim of the Dick -> Tim feelings) gives him kind of an amused, snarky response about how oh yeah, don't worry, they’re fine 😏; I can’t say more than that, the cameras are blacked out. And Dick’s like, ‘...blacked out?’ and she’s like, ‘protocol, lol, but seriously, they’re fine.’
And Dick is like. Privacy blackout protocol? Tim’s hand on Jason’s jacket? Babs smirking so hard he can hear it through the comm? POISON IVY?
2 + 2 = 4 and Dick is NOT a happy camper. He probably like. Sits there staring at the Red Hood and Red Robin icons layered on top of each other in that apartment ALL FUCKING NIGHT, imagining what’s happening in there, wanting to yell himself hoarse and throw breakable things to shatter against the Cave walls. But he sits motionless in the dark, instead. Aching and second-guessing everything he thought he knew about where he and Tim stood with each other - when he can think through the haze of hurt, jealousy, and anger. 
[INSERT A SWITCH TO EITHER JASON OR TIM'S POV FOR THEIR MARATHON SEX POLLEN FUCK SESSION 😂 WOW THEY ARE HAVING A FANTASTIC TIME WHILE DICK IS JUST. SO MISERABLE. TIM IS SO FLEXIBLE. JASON HAS SO MUCH STAMINA. YAAAAAY.]
I’m sort of divided about how Dick’s actual confrontation of Tim would go, because my dark horny Id wants jealous Dick stewing and stewing and eventually just losing it (possibly prompted by getting dosed by another mind-altering, inhibition-loosening drug? because WHY NOT) and like, borderline dub-con ambushing Tim, possibly tying him down and fucking him until he cries and learns who he belongs to
but then my mushy Id is like NO I WANT DICK TO CRY INTO TIM’S CHEST ABOUT HOW HURT HE IS THAT TIM DOESN’T WANT HIM WHEN HE’S LOVED TIM FOR SO LONG NOW, and for Tim to be like wait wait wait WHAT??? but I DO want you, I’ve loved you for so long, that’s why I didn’t want a cheap meaningless sex pollen pity fuck, that would destroy me! and then they cry on each other some more and make sweet sappy reaffirming (but also lbr intensely possessive) love
and then my SUPEREGO is like stfu you know that’s not how it would go, Dick Grayson represses the fuck out of all debilitating hurts and betrayals and upsets, he has to brood and angst like a MOTHERFUCKER first, and then probably snipe at a baffled Tim about unrelated things because he can’t talk about his feelings, and then pick petty fights with a confused, annoyed Jason about things he’d previously been letting go as hostilities had cooled
and then vent to his friends in highly coded/obfuscated language so they have to stab in the dark trying to give him relevant advice, except for Roy who oh shit accidentally figures out EXACTLY what Dick is so bent out of shape about because Jason talked to him about helping Tim out with the sex pollen incident, and what the fuck Dick are you in love with Tim??? and what the fuck Roy, did Jason GOSSIP with you about Tim, did he BRAG ABOUT FUCKING TIM, Dick is gonna fucking PUNCH HIM IN THE FACE, and Roy has to frantically talk him down. 
and then Dick would eventually confront Tim slightly-too-aggressively about that one time he fucked Red Hood (if it even was just one time >:|), and was that really the best decision Tim, I’m not saying I’m questioning your judgment but he stabbed you in the chest with a Batarang Tim, I’m not saying another much safer and more appropriate person was right there Tim but I was literally right fucking there Tim, I would have fucked you so good you would never want anyone else Tim, why didn’t you want me Tim, why didn’t you choose me???
….also also, I’m undecided on whether I would want to add JayTim tentatively developing feelings from the pollen incident into the mix to make things even more messy and fucked, but honestly!!! That could be more than I want to try and juggle lol
Thanks for the Ask, I appreciate you!!
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according2thelore · 1 month
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ohhhhh man now you’ve got me brooding over es!sam. it never occurred to me before that among them, he would end up feeling always the square peg in a round hole. the pride and resilience and hope he carried like medals in the first seasons gave him a sense of value and esteem, and i can’t imagine how it feels to be thrown into this inevitability where none of himself remains and in fact the bits he tries to hold onto are an irritant to the quid pro quo in a way nobody will outright honestly explain to him. rather than saving himself and his brother and the world like he thought he would at the end of it all, everywhere he looks is just another form of loss. ls!boys would lap up his es brother, the eager (and adorably naive) hunter with ideas and brawn and something to prove, so much of the same flowing through the blood of all 3 of them, but imagine the grief es!sam feels walking through the cold echoing hallways of the bunker, everything just a nauseating maelstrom of weapons and lore books and charts, no john, no mary, no jess, no wives and no children, no living friends, no presence or interest in the world he always dreamed to blend into, and nobody at his side to truly understand or feel that grief with him. and on top of that the things he feels about dean, complex and ugly and heavy to hold, have somehow been tugged out of him into the open in the future and locked behind a door he has no key to and even touching the knob burns his hand - the derision/amusement of the ls!bros even if they don’t intend it as such, the constant knowing smiles like he isn’t THEM like they don’t know how it feels and how much it suffocates him ohhhh man look what you’ve done to my poor heart with these snippets
YES!!!! ANON!!! YOU GET IT!!!!
first off, your writing is gorgeous?? holy shit?? eating all of your words they are in my mouth now i am sorry
but YES
he would def feel like the odd man out (depending on the season ES!Sam is from) because the other three love the life. they find joy and purpose and meaning in the hunt in a way sam lost. the hunt is a tool. a means to an end.
i think it wouldn't take long for LS!Sam to see the bunker, with the dozens of empty rooms--the shell of a home, only echoes and blades and the collected sum total of knowledge of people long-dead--and ask the group, "is this fucking it?"
no one knows what he's talking about (ES!Dean is so excited because he gets a kickass bunker AND a garage AND an armory AND sammy forever??), but sam is shaking because there are shirts folded in some of the empty rooms' dressers. dead men who thought they'd come back, a physical reminder of every goddamn person they've lost in the endless quest for vengeance. everything sam left for.
"is this all i fucking get?" ES!Sam snaps. "an underground crypt? no wife. no kids. no job. no fucking friends? did the hunt really fucking bury us?"
and everyone goes deadly fucking silent. LS!Dean has to leave the room because it's everything he'd always feared LS!Sam thinks. sam has always needed others more than dean does (or at least, that's what dean thinks, we literally see contradictory evidence in the show but okay). LS!Dean's afraid that sam has always resented him for the way their lives ended up, for dragging sam down with him.
and ES!Dean is crushed because this is his dream. he gets to save lives. he gets to carry dad's legacy. he gets to keep sam, all the unnecessary fluff--a mission to keep them together, girls, obligations--removed. and sam is disgusted by it.
LS!Sam just stares at ES!Sam blankly. he's annoyed with him, before something smaller, something pitying, slips into the shape of his mouth. he gets up to follow LS!Dean, leaving ES!Sam to wallow in his own sick. in this moment, Sam can't even empathize with himself.
and ES!Sam is sitting in the blast radius of his own fury. no one will look him in the eye. LS!Dean looks sick before he leaves the table. no one will answer his questions. no one even tries.
LS!Sam keeps trying to say, "this is what i want, sam. i don't mind. i love what i do, and i love doing it with dean." and all sam can hear is i gave up. i couldn't get out. i'm coping. don't destroy this glass house with a hammer because it's the only home i have left.
and ES!Sam still aches. because ES!Dean is already choosing another sam. LS!Dean looks at him like he has the power to kill him. LS!Sam looks at him like he pities him, which is the deepest cut of all.
poor sam. poor sam who doesn't want to die for this. poor sam who doesn't get us, who isn't us.
LS!Dean, ironically enough, is the closest ES!Sam gets to compassion, but it always feels like blows directed at himself. yeah. it sucks, kid. it fucking blows. i wanted you to get a wife. to get out. i...i tried. i'm sorry. it's more self-recrimination than care.
but GOD! ES!Sam goes for a run and sprints until he throws up because he sees the packed strength of LS!Dean's arms, the crow's feet at the corners of his eyes. he sees the easy way LS!Sam&Dean laugh with each other, the way they talk with looks alone, the naked adoration. he sees ES!Dean and aches and aches and aches and aches and aches. he needs something he doesn't have the words for, something he's terrified to name, because does that mean that he's giving up? does that mean that he's the fucked up one--perverting this easy life that they all clearly adore?
and even the joy he finds--talking with LS!Dean in the kitchen, sparring with ES!Dean in the gym, enthusing with LS!Sam over texts--there are moments. small ones. where sam realizes that the person talking to him kind of stops, content. he's already part of this system, of this unit. sometimes the pauses feel patronizing. or excited. or so full of tension that sam is already hardening in his jeans. or sad. and it's confusing, but sam is walking down the empty hallways, passing rooms of dead men and seeking out his brother, always his brother, always.
GRAH!!! lonely ES!Sam. bitter ES!Sam. joyful ES!Sam. jealous ES!Sam. possessive ES!Sam. ES!Sam choking on the things he doesn't understand--the things he can't--that have made their lives the way they are.
thank you for this ask, anon! it was beautifully written! and now i am also thinking about this! perpetual motion machine of devouring ES!Sam whole!
-lizzy
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ebonyslasher · 8 months
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Cloud Strife with a Black S/O
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☁️Knowing Cloud, he'll be snarky with you. Like he is with everyone. But he doesn't know that you bite right back! You respond in kind with the quickness. He almost breaks his neck to look at you.
☁️Oh. You were so witty and the responses hit every time. It came so smoothly that he knew you didn't have to rehearse it (like he does sometimes).
☁️I mean, you do. But you'll never say that. You've done enough fake arguments in your head to be ready.
☁️He is awkward DOWN when he's getting to know you. So many awkward silences. It's painful.
☁️Add more to the awkwardness when he figures out how much he's attracted to you. He acted almost scared of you at times. Meanwhile, he's just mentally simping. He thinks he's being cool and mysterious but it is not working.
☁️Cloud secretly admits that you flustered him a lot with your eye contact. You were already so beautiful. He adverts his eyes when he's overwhelmed.
☁️He loves your unique voice, cadence, and how you pronounce words. And if you can sang???????? OHHHHH. Even not, if you whisper to him with that voice, oooooooooooo.
☁️He's from a country town, so he will catch onto any AAVE fast. He'll only use a few phrases himself sometimes. It was weird hearing him say, "Fuck outta here with that bullshit, bitch."
☁️Like damn? He must have been extra pissed off.
☁️Secretly eats up your skincare routine, but will be sly about it. Unfortunately, you will just be left puzzled about why you've been running out of your products so fast. Especially that snail juice.
☁️Are you Goofy? Well, He actually enjoys that about you. You've managed to get a laugh out of him a few times. He tries to hide it though. Like, sir? I saw you. Everyone did.
☁️Revealing outfits? Yes. Color matching with your skin tone? YES! Oh, his beautiful turquoise eyes will be laser-focused on your gorgeous brown self.
☁️Will give one-word compliments.
"Beautiful."
"Gorgeous."
☁️Adores hugging you. Just absolutely crushing you against him and holding you tight. But not too tight, Cloud. Baby boy is strong strong.
☁️Barrett has noticed that he goes a little extra with his moves when you're accompanying them on a mission.
"Oh, so you decided to start showing out with the moves when y/n is around, huh?"
"Tch, What are you talking about? Again, get help." He really is showing off though.
☁️It's cute how hard he works to try to impress you though.
☁️Lowkey watches when you do your hair. Although, he will act like he wasn't looking. Or reading any product ingredients on his own time.
☁️It makes his heart melt when he observes how passionate you are about helping or saving others; even though he sees that it comes at the expense of yourself. That, he doesn't care for. Cloud steps up by protecting you if there's any fallback.
☁️Even if you are strong, he will always worry and make sure that he is there to save you. It would crush him if you got hurt.
☁️He views you as a beautiful star amongst the general population space down on earth.
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misseviehyde · 1 year
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MY BOYFRIEND, THE SUPER MODEL
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You were pretty surprised when the invitation came to attend an exclusive fashion shoot in Milan... especially when it was addressed to your boyfriend Chris.
He opened it, frowned then laughed and shrugged slightly.
"When I was younger," laughed Chris - "my aunt who works in the fashion industry used to make me model girls clothes and pretend to be her daughter. For years she's been trying to get me to do it again."
"Your aunt made you dress up as a girl?" you asked bemused.
"Errrrr not quite," muttered Chris. "She used to give me this Elixir stuff and it actually made me into a girl. I became this annoying little bitch called Cristy. My Aunt said I had the perfect bone structure to be a girl and that when I grew up I could be a top super model if I wanted. Cristy was well up for it."
"You're talking about her like she was a different person," you gulped.
"She kind of was and that was the problem. She was a annoying little diva who was going to grow up spoiled and evil. My Mom rescued me and made me go cold-turkey till I turned back into her son. Cristy has been gone since then. Fuck I wonder what she would look like now? Guess that's what my aunt is trying to convince me to try."
"But what does the invite say?" you askes curiously.
"It says she needs a top model for her fashion show in Milan and if Cristy does it - she'll pay me a million dollars and write me into the will."
"A million? Holy shit - that's insane!" you gasp.
"Not really. The top models get 20 to 40 million depending on the gig."
"Maybe you should do it? We could use the money and you're older now. You can keep Cristy under control and I can make sure you get turned back."
"I don't know," mused Chris reluctantly. "I... I had to work hard to free myself of her. But I suppose for all that money..."
"How much harm can it do?" you asked. "You love me and with a million in the bank we can do what we like."
Chris nodded reluctantly... though only partially, as if some part of him was actually pleased.
"Very well, I'll book the flights."
*********
Milan was beautiful though you hadn't seen that much yet. A private cab whisked you and Chris away to the centre where you were taken to hotel where the models were staying.
Beautiful women moved around the lobby like they inhabited some different universe. Their graceful movements made you feel small and weak.
You were taken to a room where a whole suite of beautiful women's clothing and makeup was waiting. On a table by one wall stood a rack of pink vials. Chris walked over.
"Are you sure you want me to do this?"
Without waiting for an answer he raised the vial to his mouth and drank it all.
"Ohhhhh fuck, I forgot how good this stuff tasted. How it made me feel. Mmmmmh I haven't transformed into a girl for years... mmmmh no... this time, I'm becoming a woman not a girl. Cristy is coming back baby!"
Chris began to groan and giggle, pulling at his clothes and laughing as he struggled out of them. Bones were popping and cracking and his hair was already lengthening as Cristy's perfect features replaced his.
His flat chest swelled out as two huge natural breasts grew there. Grabbing them Chris squeezed happily, his pouting mouth parted in ecstasy as he transformed.
High cheek bones, soft skin and luuxrious hair framed his transformed body and his face altered to become super beautiful. The bitch standing unashamedly naked in front of you now had a perfect ass and body, with firm full tits and gorgeous silky hair. She would look good in anything.
"See," purred the reborn Cristy in a deliciously sexy voice. "He warned you I was pretty and as you can see I am."
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"Chris?" you asked in astonishment.
"Weren't you listening to anything he had to say loser? I'm Cristy - the girl he used to be, though I'm all grown up now. For fucks sake - help me get dressed and let's find my aunt. I can't wait to get back on the catwalk."
*********
Cristy was a quick learner or she already knew how to do things. She explained she'd been lurking in Chris' subconscious for a long time.
"I can't believe it's been so long since I was free. Still - at least I'm finally back. Thanks bitch for convincing that loser to become me again. This time he won't get free of me."
"No... that isn't the plan. You're gonna earn that money then go back to being Chris."
"Oh really? What the fuck do I get out of that arrangement? Errrr how about I find my aunt, launch my new modelling career and become rich and famous. Yeah, we'll go with that plan." Laughing Cristy turned on her heels and clopped off to find her aunt.
**********
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Cristy Rio was famous, beautiful and rich.
Girls wanted to be her and men wanted to fuck her.
Thanks to her rich, well-connected aunt she'd experienced a meterioric rise in the fashion industry and was now a super succesful model and socialite.
She was also your former boyfriend.
Without putting too much a finer point on it, you'd made a big mistake helping her get control back of Chris. Now she was in charge and there wasn't any reason for Chris to ever want to return.
She was an international star and a total bitch.
She was your boyfriend, the super model.
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completeoveranalysis · 9 months
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[1]
Chapitre 183 - The World of Sand 
In which ARE YOU KIDDING ME? THIS IS INCREDIBLE. 
BLACK AND WHITE INVERSE COLOUR SAKURA AND SYAORANS? OHHHHH CLAMP ARE GENEROUS. CLAMP ARE GIVING.
Even just how each couple is wearing the colour opposite to their background, but also the opposite of the opposing pair.
And how the feathers are in the SAME but OPPOSITE part of the page for each side, showing that they are visual inversions of each other’s reality, but the feathers don’t look the same, and are shown at unique angles. Potentially they’re falling on one side but rising on the other. Potentially it’s the same for each, but its showing that neither story is complete without the perspective of the other. 
And how the small circles on the right are small and clearly defined against the background - perhaps falling water droplets, like the falling feathers around them? - while the ones on the left are fuzzy shiny orbs, like motes of air or magic rising through the sky. I think the implication of movement is a bit open to interpretation, you could go either way. IS one side falling and the other rising? Is the fate of that Sakura/Syaoran pair falling downward while the other rises? Is one falling to ALLOW the other to rise? Is one pair doomed by fate BECAUSE they are clones? Or are they drifting down and out of the narrative and into freedom, while the other pair takes up the fight in their stead? Is one background Black because their future is dark, or because they CAME from that darkness, as created tools of Evil Wolverine? Or is it their clothes that matter? Are they the light in the dark, the fragments of people who fought to change the future despite their origins? White clothing because they were initially empty and devoid of anything? Is the other background similarly white because it hasn’t been written yet - a future so undefined that no-one can tell what it will be when this is all over?
Are the circles actually heading in the same direction on both sides of the page, and the difference is how they are perceived? How one stands out against the darkness while the other needs help to be seen at all? The clones WERE the most visible throughout most of the story, and only through their existence did the other pair get the chance to enter the narrative again. 
I - oH fuck I forgot that this would be in colour and that I HAVE IT. PLEASE HOLD. WHERE IS IT. 
HERE IT IS! LOOK LOOK LOOK
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EVEN THE SPLASH TEXT IS INVERTED
MIRROR IMAGES
And OH all that gorgeous golden ornamentation, the gem colours actually staying the same on both sides of the page. The clasp on Syaoran’s upper arm is the same symbol as on the previous cover, on Fai and Kurogane's clothing, which is a very fun connection that shows it wasn’t just an alternate world we didn’t see, but an intended shared thread of imagery for them all. 
The long pieces of jewellery that the Sakuras wear are gorgeous and delicate and intricate. It could be echoing the design of vines and natural growth - perhaps because she can communicate with spirits, and is in touch with the natural world, or perhaps because she is a desert flower herself, growing out of a literal world of sand but also blooming despite the extreme adversity, and blossoming out of pure determination. It also has visual echoes of imprisonment - it circles her neck not at a low level like a necklace, but high like a collar. It spreads across her like roots, holding her in place - or is it the opposite of that now? Is she, aware of her fate as she is, wearing Evil Wolverine’s designs like they're just a gown to be worn? Something she can’t take off but has learned to make work for her?
The Syaorans have a circular loop in the design of their coat around their necks as well - because they’ve been just as trapped in Evil Wolverine’s schemes. For the Syaoran on the right especially the loop around his neck has two circular gems visible that could echo the same shape as the goggles he used to wear, bringing in an element of the past that shaped who he is but at the same time was a design placed on him from birth, one that was all by someone else’s plan. 
AND THE DIFFERENCES BETWEEN THEM. The colour version lets you see the heterochromia in Syaoran's eyes on the right, showing which pair is which, and the DIFFERENCES in how they stand. (If they ARE in the pairs you would expect) Clone Sakura looks down, as if unfocussed, because she IS currently narratively dead. Or is she instead gazing at her hand, being held by Syaoran? She has wanted this so desperately and for so long. Does she look sad because she is currently dead, meaning they might never be actually together? Is she unfocussed because she has not yet had the chance to truly see that her sacrifice worked, and that Syaoran really has been restored? Either way, Syaoran holds her hand up in support, gently from below. 
The Syaoran on the left holds the other Sakura’s hand up close to his chest, hand clenched tight. This Sakura and Syaoran both look ahead - at where they are going? At what lies ahead for them both? Neither looks especially happy, but neither looks especially unhappy either. Lava Lamp has always been particularly unreadable, but the way he grasps her hand betrays how hard he’s been fighting for her. Sakura in turn looks just as unfocussed as her counterpart - and if Evil Wolverine is to be believed, it’s because she’s also dead. I DO NOT BELIEVE THIS THOUGH. She could potentially be in dreams, asleep for the entire plotline, held as a backup until they free her. She is not particularly aware that her hand is being held, and isn’t participating in the motion like the other Sakura seems to be, but she looks ahead all the same. Whatever they're looking at, they're clearly moving in a different direction entirely to their clone counterparts.
Meanwhile Clone Syaoran looks directly at the camera.
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