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#puts them all into lava
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ya-yoink
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danwhobrowses · 6 months
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For anyone else who is gonna struggle surviving the next 3 weeks with the angsty and tense situation of Callowmoore here's a few things from the last 2 episodes that I feel were underrated and will assist in trying to keep me sane/emotionally stable: - Matching messed up hands built for holding - Fearne nervously playing with her hair as she approaches Ashton - Ashton wanted Fearne to be either the last thing they saw if they died or the first thing they saw when they succeeded - Fearne's admittance corroborates Ashley's 4SD revelation that Fearne is in love with someone in the party but doesn't know how to process the emotions - Fearne wanted Ashton to be happy, while Ashton wanted to feel whole so they would be worthy of the Hells - Ashton twice tried to lead a search for Fearne, and instantly clocking onto Chetney saying he followed Fearne - Fearne making herself look as radiant as possible before giving Ashton the cold shoulder - Ashton only rose to Chetney's provocations until he said 'You hurt Fearne' Use how you will
#godspeed my poor damaged psyche#critical role#bells hells#callowmoore#ashton greymoore#fearne calloway#fearne x ashton#ashton x fearne#strangely enough I don't enjoy having a dark and sad pit sitting in my chest day to day#3 weeks and we don't even get a cute M9 reunion in between to distract us? this was worse than Callowmoore's sistergate 3 week wait#also 'a little'? Sweetie people don't jump into lava for a little you got the big L and it's not Lesbian(s)#Feel like Laudna was a bit cruel this ep (Ash has been there for her a ton and she kinda villainized him) but we'll put it down to Delilah#much of Ashton's trauma has been overlooked or left to them to internalize but still nobody has told them that they are loved#and Ashton Greymoore needs to be told they're loved! (by Fearne)#but yeah time for more positive mental scenarios that 99% won't happen (but when that 1% does ho boy)#couldn't have just had Fearne go 'no talking' and sleep on Ash's chest to hear their heartbeat as her touch soothes Ash's pain could we?#or final fight scenarios where Ludinus is a walking harness and Ashton tricks them into absorbing their titan powers so he'd explode#they could've even had a talk in the woods because they wanted to find her so bad but was not gonna test Imogen's patience#I for one though will have at least one where Ashton seeks out Mori for advice (Fearne too but separately)#Tal I need you to use all your romantic arsenal in the feywild (Percy's worst travel experience) to win back Ashley's beautiful faun girl#bonus prompts for 'You will always be perfect to me' and 'Promise you'll come back to me' they pop up often in my scenarios#taliesin jaffe#ashley johnson
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brutal-nemesis · 11 months
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Do you happen to know any ways to torture a shapeshifter effectively?
I'm assuming said shapeshifter is gonna shift bigger/smaller to get out of any restraints? In that case...
The good ol' pitfall with spikes at the bottom, and then you gotta put like a lid on it that also has spikes. Like an iron maiden type thing. Basically just make it spikes on all sides! They might be able to make themselves real small to avoid being hurt tho 😔
But hey, while they're trapped, light a fire under that shit because even if they aren't getting poked they sure as fuck can't get away from the heat <33 or cold you could also freeze it whatever suits your fancy
Trap them completely underwater. They can turn into a fish? What if that water is acid instead, or molten metal :) And you can let that metal cool and then wow you have a fun mold!!!
I am now remembering that maybe they shouldn't die, but you can still do less intense variations of some of this stuff, trapping them in a metal box and getting it hot or spraying acid on them where they can't avoid it
They might be able to shift out of restraints, but what if I impale them on the ground with a piece of rebar, huh. what then
Give them a nice brand or marking that's visible no matter how they shift, so you'll always know it's them
Good old starvation and dehydration (and if they turn into a camel then that's just cool you got a camel hell yeah)
In conclusion, as long as you can figure out a way to keep them from getting away, you can do whatever you want, baby
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jinxed-sinner · 14 days
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Begging people who redesign Hazbin Hotel characters to acknowledge that the character designs in Hazbin Hotel are self-indulgent to Vivziepop while staying easy (or at least easy-ish) to animate (in fact, ease of animation is why Angel's third pair of arms are retractable).
I get that people really like the first designs of a lot of the characters but some of them would be so hard to animate and some of them just aren't great for the story Hazbin Hotel is. The thing with character design is it's important to make your characters look like they could feasibly exist in the same universe. Some of the older character designs, while they are drawn in the same art style, would just look weird and out of place next to each other (I feel like it'd be weird to see any version of Alastor next to Charlie's earliest design for example).
There needs to be a balance between making your designs dynamic and making them look like they could exist in the same universe, which Hazbin Hotel's character designs achieve (even Helluva Boss's human designs achieve this when imps and hellhounds aren't disguised and are interacting with humans).
I feel like sticking them all in suits also achieves this; while the characters are all from different time periods, putting Sir Pentious in a Victorian Era outfit and keeping Lucifer in his ringmaster outfit would feel really weird to me. Additionally, while they're all in suits, their suits are still unique enough to tell you something about them. Sir Pentious only wears a shirt and jacket because he's physically unable to wear pants. Alastor's jacket has wear and tear. Angel doesn't wear a shirt under his, instead deciding to expose his fluff. Vox's gives off the vibe of a CEO, with a radio wave theme on his elbows that subtly links him to Alastor. People act like the fact that they're all in suits makes them all feel the same, when their suits are all designed very differently from each other. Lucifer is technically in a suit but I don't see anyone talk about it because it's more reminiscent of a ringmaster's suit.
People complaining about the character designs without acknowledging why the characters are designed the way they are (that reasoning largely being self-indulgence) has actually led me to actively avoid any Hazbin Hotel redesign video with a voiceover that comes across my TikTok FYP. I'm not saying don't redesign Hazbin Hotel characters, because I think it's fun and I'd be a hypocrite for saying "don't redesign Hazbin Hotel characters," but I am saying that people need to acknowledge that Viv's goal very likely wasn't professional character design, it was very likely animation-friendly self-indulgent character design because Hazbin Hotel is, in essence, a passion project.
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codecicle · 8 months
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Do you know any good qsmp lore supercuts? I want to watch more qsmp content (since i've really only been following along with liveblogs; i only really watched wilbur's vods almost up to when the eggs were first supposed to disappear) but there's so much to watch and it doesn't all hold my attention.
https://youtube.com/@QSMPInfo?si=FUrtOTX89-XRWLvF
^^ this is the official qsmp lore recap channel!! honestly the best source I think you could get they condense so much of it so well. as for more recent stuff they haven't gotten to yet I'd recommend going on twitter (yeah i know I'm sorry 😔) and looking through your language of choices update accounts!! they're all run by official admins and have translated updates on every streamer per day. its a lot of lore but also liveblogging is how most people consume other lore, since there are people constantly streaming on the server. i look through the qsmp tag when i wake up in the morning and get home from school like a newspaper LMAO
typically I'd just suggest the twitter accounts, the recap channel, picking at least 2 or 3 different streamers to watch casually and looking through liveblogs. im a huge charlie guy obviously but I've literally never seen a cellbit stream before despite him being one of my favorite characters, I only know him through other streams and liveblogging. my spanish streamers don't stream on there anymore (cmon mariana and rubius D:) and so i mainly get Spanish updates from Spanish speakers on here!! point is you're doing great already LMAO just watch some of the recaps and look through the update accounts and you'll be fine.
(plus every stream they have to relay old information from one person to another so eventually you will get a lore info dump if you want to or not)
#i make yet anothet post just for me 👍#we have mail :]#AUGUAHJGFHH IM SORRY I DONT HAVE BETTER ANSWERS LMAO I WISH I DID!!#best recap of the story over the past couple of weeks that no channels have really covered:#the federation (big bad) kidnapped the eggs from the parents while everyone was asleep. this wasnt this first time theyve done this but!!#this time felt much different. like they were really gone for good.#forever was given brainwashing pills by cucurucho (federation worker/census bureau for the island)#and these pills fucked him up BAD. he keeps hearing a ticking clock sound and whenever it gets the loudest he snaps and takes more drugs#bbh has been grieving and every stream he loses a little more color. he lost all of his color and streamed his 'acceptance' stream#where he kidnapped the drugged members and put them in cages along with torturing fed members to get them to talk#phil finally logged back on and with tubbo and fit's (? I think) help they covered the main federation building in cobblestone and lava#essentially just griefed the server as a threat LMAO#phil wrote and delivered a note that essentially said 'give the eggs back by the end of the week. or else'#then we got cryptic messages that cellbit decoded#they said: 'the answer is not in the center'#that all leads to todays stream where charlie tubbo and roier went to the center of a maze they found through coords#(that fred not the feds gave to them in 3 seperate books)#and there was a wheel in the center surrounded by all of the eggs items. tubbo spun it and it landed on 5#then lava poured from the ceiling and mobs spawned kicking all three of them out#now this saturday (or tomorrow i think?) is a huge stream that was teased a couple says ago with the roman numerals 2#and the spinny wheel in the maze was written in roman numerals#so we think todays stream and all the lore is leading up to something with the eggs tomorrow/Saturday i forgor the date#and thats basically whats been happening this past few days!! theres a LOT more lore than normal dw we have just been experiencing.#The Horrors. this isnt normal LMAO#qsmp#<- forgot to tag this
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firesofdainix · 1 year
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You ever just. Drop the fic you're reading when they start bashing a character and over exaggerating their bad qualities.
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ah, you see, Glax has made some Rash Combat Decisions it's true. but can you blame him?
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dykefaggotry · 2 years
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AM I throwing myself a star wars themed birthday party this year despite turning 23? yeah. IS it going to slap? yes
most importantly she would be fucking pumped
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I'm still thinking about the mario movie and how I could fix it
#mario#nintendo#okay so first of all more luigi screentime#him being in a tiny cage overseeing a lava pit was an excuse not to use him#either put him in a normal jail or have him wearing an ankle manacle by bowser's throne as a weird little pet#in normal jail somehow have him come across a mug to drag across the bars morosely#and a harmonica to play just the sickest tunes#have him attempt to escape#at one point make it so he successfully gets out of the castle but immediately gets caught or something#make him competent but fail due to his own incompetence and shortcomings#make bowser less of an asshole to literally everyone#specifically kamek that's his dad dude#take out the shit about peach being from another world#literally she's a toad make her a toad#also the movie's already going way too fast give it some moments to breathe without revealing anything new#have mario lament about fearing for his brother and peach lament about fearing for her kingdom#have them bond over it#take out everything at the end about brooklyn and the mushroom kingdom fusing#itdve been better for mario to have been trying to steer the bullet bill away from the castle and accidently steering it towards the pipe#going like 'NO' and panickedly slamming against it but it's no use#or make it so he thought it'd be small enough to fit into the pipe but he made a mistake#like make it a genuine mistake#everything about the wedding was very underbaked#either make it more culturally relevant to the koopas or just take it out entirely
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tojisun · 1 month
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so obsessed with the “my cock is big so it wont fit” / “try me” relationship dynamic ughhhh thinking about this with simon and reader, and how reader’s desperation made them spiral, makes me so giggly
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thinking about the way you finger yourself everyday to stretch yourself out for simon; preparing yourself for him. practicing for him.
it becomes a routine; it was mundane, almost, but every time the thought that you’re doing this for simon slithers its way back to the forefront of your mind, you lose yourself—doused in the tendrils of your desire, so powerful it has you clenching on your own fingers.
they never hit deeper, never stretch you out wider, but they scratch the itch to be stuffed and manage to satiate you long enough for the next day to roll by.
it’s a lot worse when you meet up with simon because your core throbs with need, leaving you crossing your legs to give yourself that muted relief. but it’s never enough, is it?
simon’s right there, voice thick like molten lava, viscous as it washes over you. “are you alright, love?”
and you lie, gritting your teeth and clenching your fists tightly, telling him that of course you’re fine. because what else can you say? “i dream of your cock so much that i fuck myself everyday as prep”?
if you do say that, simon won’t ever let you live it down. so you stay quiet, crossing-and-uncrossing your legs at every of his deep laugh or gentle crooning, trying your best to ignore the way his palm squeezes the muscle of your thigh. you wonder if he’s doing this on purpose by now because there’s no way simon actually does naturally talk like this—
it’s all teases and taunts as a whirlpool of petnames dribble from his quirked-up lips. he calls you, baby and darling. he calls you sweetheart and lovie. but then he also calls you pup, doll, pet—anything that makes you gasp, and quiet puffs of breaths wheeze out of your trachea in your own stupor.
“you seem distracted,” he murmurs, his voice a worried croon.
“uh-huh,” you say, not really listening, because simon’s hand is climbing up higher and higher on your thigh.
simon notices your stare, because of course he does, then does…
nothing.
he drops you off to your place that night, and leaves a kiss on your forehead before driving off. you watch from your living room window as he disappears from your line of sight before clambering towards your room, tearing your pants off your body and chucking your little slip of underwear behind you as you do so.
you sink into your plush mattress, knees braced by your softer pillows, before reaching behind you to plunge yourself with your fingers. two of them slide in easily, and you crook them just right until you’re mewling. moaning. crying.
simonsimonsimon—
your orgasm is a sharp rip of euphoric release. but the tidal wave of your ecstasy wafts off into its remnants just as quick because this, fucking yourself, isn’t the fix you want. it isn’t the fix you need.
(that said, making simon buckle was a lot easier said than done.)
you parted your legs yourself, planting your hands on the underside of your thighs to pull them open for simon. simon laughs when he saw this, his pale cheeks so flushed with his own desire.
“hurry,” you whine, all choked-up with your desperation, and simon only croons a warning.
“we need ta’prepare you, pup. i’m too big f’r you.”
his acknowledgment makes you leak, your wanton thoughts turning into slick that gushes out of you. simon laughs, so utterly endeared.
“i prepared myself, si! please put it in!”
simon sighs, crossing his arms over his chest. “i thought you wanted my cock?”
he waits for you to nod. you do so, careful, as your wet eyes look up at him.
“hmm. so listen to daddy, yeah?”
“okay,” you mumble, too overwhelmed to fight back.
simon smiles, murmurs his praises, and then he’s bringing his head between your legs. you squeak, surprise dotting your vision. you expected simon to prepare you, yes, but you expected his fingers—long, rough, thick—and not his tongue—
“siii-monnnn,” you keen, legs buckling from your hold until they tumble to his back, your strength getting zapped out of you at every lap of simon’s tongue.
it’s so good! so, so good!
simon takes over, hooking your legs over his shoulders himself as he burrowed deeper, nose grinding against the sensitive underside of your sex. his tongue pushes against your walls, sliding between them, and then simon sucks.
fuck! fuck—
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sorta pt 02
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charliemwrites · 4 months
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Woof woof grrrrrr
Content: Dub-Con, Dirty Talk, Oral Sex (reader giving)
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The bar is exactly as busy as you’re hoping for when you get there. Quiet and intimate, low lights, a hum of conversation but not overwhelmingly loud. The bar is mostly full but not crowded. As luck would have it, you instantly spot a couple empty stools towards the back.
You glide across the establishment, head held high and shoulders back. Pick a seat and smooth your skirt under you to perch. The bartender comes to you instantly; you pick something sweet and fruity (delighted that it’ll match your outfit.)
It takes up until they slide it across to you — a tab opened with your card — that the insecurity starts to set in. What if no one is interested? What if Soap doesn’t show up?
You sip at your drink and pull out your phone, reading your latest book. If nothing else… at least you’re getting out? God.
“This isn’t your usual scene.”
Oh. Oh this is worse than being ignored all night and going home alone. So much worse. Just barely manage not to curse aloud as you turn to your ex.
“Justin…” you start, realize you don’t know where to go from there. “Hi.”
“It’s been a minute, huh?”
You look him up and down. Designer everything, of course, brands printed all over him. No taste, though, none of it is cohesive. You wouldn’t be caught dead at his side ever again.
“How’s your arm?”
His expression flickers, hand unconsciously going to the spot where Johnny tried to tear it off.
“Fine. Thanks.” He gives you a long look. Unfriendly. “You know people have had dogs put down for less.”
You run your tongue over your teeth, fear and anger twisting up in your stomach like hot lava. How dare he threaten your boy like that?! Wish Johnny was here now to take another chunk out of him.
“Not when people trespass on private property,” you reply coldly, eyes narrowing.
He puts his hands up, laughing awkwardly. “Well, now. I wouldn’t call it — let’s just say we’re even, yeah?”
“For that at least.”
You take another big sip of your drink. Find it empty. Make hopeful eye contact with the bartender and nod for another when they gesture questioningly. There’s a reason you love this bar.
“Right… listen, about that, luv…”
“There you are, bonnie!”
You perk up despite yourself. Says something that the creep who sexually harasses you in public is better company than your ex-fiancé. Something zings through you when you realize Soap is bigger than your Justin (hopefully in every aspect). Taller, wider, more muscular. Better jawline and prettier eyes, too.
“Tucked up back here like this,” Soap mock scolds, shouldering past Justin. You let out a little squeak as he scoops you off your barstool, hand just under your ass for a hold. “Almost didn’t see you, hen.”
“H-Hi,” you say, arms going around his neck automatically. He presses his nose to your collarbone and audibly inhales. You shiver.
“Sorry to keep you waiting,” he continues, voice dropping lower.
He sets you down on your stool again with a wink, then takes the stool next to yours.
“Oi, do you mind?” Justin snaps, bumped out of the way by Soap’s bulk.
“I do, actually.” The look Soap levels him is sharp, cold. Bloody killer. Instantly reminds you of all the alarm bells that normally play in your head when he’s around. “Don’t like puffed up knobs like you around my girl.”
You bite your tongue on a protest that you’re not his girl. Wouldn’t be particularly helpful right about now. You’ll correct him later.
“Your girl,” Justin scoffs. “She was mine before she was ever — hey!”
Soap’s got his fist in the front of Justin’s shirt, jerking him nearly off his feet. A few heads turn. You feel hot with embarrassment, skin prickling at so many eyes on your little trio of stupidity.
“Woah!” You yelp. “Soap!”
You grab his forearm (remind yourself not to get distracted by the muscles cording it) and lean into his line of sight. The near-murderous glint in his blue eyes softens, though there’s still an unnatural sheen to them. Something that makes the hair on the back of your head stand on end.
“Soap, let him go,” you say, quiet. “I like this bar, don’t get us kicked out… please?”
He hums, instantly drops Justin to cup his hand around the back of your neck, fingers edging into your hair. His palm feels so big and harm, a little rough with callouses. You try not to think about how easy it would be for him to manipulate your head however he wants…
“Like when you say ‘please,’ hen,” Soap purrs.
You swallow, feel your cheeks flushing as you say, “Then… you should sit down and have a drink with me. Please?”
He grins, crooked and a little mean. “Anythin’ fer you.”
He drops into his stool again like a king on his throne. You perch gingerly on your own, waving Justin away like an annoying fly. Don’t even look as he slinks off, too busy staring at Soap. Who’s… busy staring at you. As always.
“You never called,” he drawls after ordering. Whiskey, neat. The bartender sets your new drink in front of you; you start sipping to gather your thoughts and nerve. “Lucky I happened to stop in here, eh? Imagine if I’d walked past…”
You grimace a bit. A fantastic bit of luck, that. Thought you’re still not sure what type of luck.
Definitely not going to admit to him that you didn’t call on purpose, wanting plausible deniability if you did see him. As if trying to get him under your skirt by happenstance is better than calling him to do it.
“Why did you stop in here?” You ask, looking to change the subject.
“Could smell you,” he answers, eyes twinkling.
You wrinkle your nose, kick at his shin. Want to blame it on the alcohol, but you drink red wine most nights of the week. This is just… placebo and desperation.
“You’re so nasty, you know that?” You huff.
He arches his eyebrows, grins wolfishly. “Could show you how nasty I can be,” he offers.
You wrinkle your nose even as your cheeks burn. That’s exactly what you’re hoping for.
“You can’t keep talking to me like that,” you complain.
He snorts in amusement, hooking his fingers beneath your stool and tugging you closer. Until your knees are between both of his, jeans brushing against your thighs.
“Here’s the thing, darlin’,” he murmurs, low and private. “I think you like when I talk to you like that.”
You swallow audibly, hands dropping down to twist nervously in your lap.
“I think it makes your pretty pussy all wet and swollen when I get all mean like this,” he continues. You shake your head; his palm clamps down on your thigh beneath your skirt, thumb sweeping back and forth over the sensitive skin. “Think she’s fuckin’ aching fer me to make good on all my promises. And you can get all shy and sweet here, but I bet all your cunt wants is to be mounted and bred like a bitch in heat.”
And he’s right. Of course he’s fucking right. That goddamn bad guy fantasy and your shallow, needy pussy, and Soap’s stupid fucking everything.
You feel like you’re about to explode when the bartender sets his whiskey down, snapping the tension like a rubber band. Feel dizzy as you lean away, sipping desperately at your own drink in an attempt to cool off. He gives you all over maybe fifteen second before opening that sinful mouth again.
“So how about it, bonnie? Did I hit the mark?”
You feel frustrated tears pricking at your eyes. Blink and look away at your nervous hands.
“I-I don’t even know you,” you mutter. “You could be dangerous.”
“I am dangerous, baby,” he replies, “just not to you.”
You shake your head. “You’re awful.”
“Mm and you want me to do awful things to you.”
You sigh through your nose, that little logical voice blaring again. He’s going to hurt you. He’s going to use you.
(Would that be so bad, if you go in knowing it?)
A tug at your necklace startles you out of your thoughts, his finger hooked beneath the pendant. You lean in with a noise of protest, afraid he’s going to break it. Gasp as your lips brush his.
“Whatever’s goin’ on in that pretty head, let me fuck it out of you.”
You shudder, hand balanced on his thick, muscular thigh. Can feel a twitch near your thumb. Holy shit.
“I’ll be so good to you, princess,” he promises. “Let me be good to you.”
You suck in a breath. Now or never.
Well, if nothing else, maybe you’ll let Johnny eat him if he’s turns out to be a bastard.
“Prove it,” you breathe.
He guides your chin up, eyes blazing with hunger.
“Yeah?” He asks.
You blink, muster up your courage. “You heard me. Or are you back out?”
His expression goes deliciously dark. “Oh, I’ll prove it, lass. You just sit right here and I’ll get us sorted.”
His fingers slip just that last little bit up and start teasing at the lace of your panties. You bite the inside of your cheek, trying to sip at your cocktail while he flags down the bartender. His nails scrape lightly across the fabric over your clit as gets your card and throws down enough cash to cover all three drinks.
When he pulls his hand away, you have to bite back a whimper.
“If you don’t get up right now, I’m haulin’ you out of here over my shoulder,” he growls in your ear.
You’re up in an instant, smoothing down your skirt. His hand stays glued to your lower back as he ushers you out to the lot. Sits you down in the passenger seat of a black pickup, barely waits for you to buckle yourself in before peeling out of the lot.
You’re about to tell him your address when you hear the clink of a belt, a zipper. Eyes wide as they drop to his pants, to him fishing a huge, hard cock out of jeans.
“C’mere,” he near snarls.
“Soap, that’s not— mph!”
The head of his cock catches on your teeth, but that only seems to spur him on, hips twitching.
“Gonna ruin that pretty makeup, your pretty hair. Gettin’ all dolled up like that for any fucking wanker to see.”
He twists his fingers in your hair and presses you down, your cheek rubbing against the shaft. He feels huge and unnaturally hot. You press your thighs together as you imagine how it’s going to feel inside of you.
“This isn’t safe,” you complain, mouth open as you gasp against the flushed skin.
He curses, tugs you up so that your lips press against the head, already dripping. Your eyes widen in the darkness, shocked and flattered that you’ve already worked him up this much.
“Not gonnae let anything happen,” he promises, “but you need to convince me not to spank this pretty ass black and blue.”
You squeal as he releases you hair just to deliver a harsh smack to one ass cheek, the sting making you clench up.
“H-hey!”
“You want me to slap that pretty pussy too? Bet I could make you cum just tapping that little clit over and over again. That what you want, slag?”
“N-no!”
“Then show me.”
You seal your mouth around the head, sucking and licking at the precum beading at the tip. Try to brace yourself, nearly gag as he hits a pothole and shoves into your throat. It’s noisy and messy, eyes watering from how thick and deep he is already, not letting you up for more than brief gasps of air.
“Fuck, that’s it baby. Work your tongue just like that…” he groans.
You lose track of everything but trying not to gag, his threat lingering with each obscene slurp and twist of your tongue. He tastes better than you expected, and the scent of him surrounds you. Musk and pine, something familiar that niggles at your cock-drunk brain. Can’t be bothered to work it out though, not when he’s tugging your hair. Not when he comes to an abrupt stop and you deepthroat him.
He yanks you off with a near-animal growl. You whine, scrambling to brace yourself and panting. Your head feels foggy. Know your panties are soaked through; shocked you’re not dripping down your leg. If you were sitting properly, you’d probably leave a wet mark on the seat.
You moan as his mouth crashes into yours, tongue sweeping inside like he owns it. He licks the taste of himself off your tongue, hands fumbling your seatbelt off, dragging you over the center console to straddle his lap.
You gasp at the sight of his rock hard, angry cock next to your pretty dress, pressed up against your stomach. Show just how deep he’ll be inside your guts.
“Fuck, look’it that,” he groans rutting against your stomach. “Oh you were made to be mine.”
You scream as he scoops you up, stepping out of the truck with you over his shoulder.
“Soap!” You shout. “Soap, put me down, my dog—”
“I’m your fuckin’ dog,” he replies.
“No, seriously, he’s protective—”
He grabs the spare out of its hiding place and shoves the door open. You brace for angry barking and growls, but hear nothing. Soap doesn’t even pause. He just kicks the door shut and storms down the hall to your room, like he knows exactly where he’s going.
He drops you onto the bed, watches your breasts bounce as you settle on the mattress. He strips off int he blink of any eyes while you’re still catching your breath.
“W-wait, wait, my—”
He flips you onto your stomach, hikes your ass up high in the air. You squirm, try to crawl away, but he slaps your ass so hard you see stars. He places his palm flat between your shoulder blades to bin you still.
“S-Soap,” you whine as he shoves your skirt up over your ass, palms a cheek. Spreads you open just to let the flesh jiggle back into place.
“Fuck,” he growls. It sounds off. Sounds deeper, rougher now.
“Just-just slow down…!”
He yanks your panties aside, plunges two thick fingers into you. You squeal, legs kicking uselessly against the mattress.
“Oh, you’re plenty ready,” he says, dark, almost to himself. “All ready to be mated and bred. All mine.”
That finally starts to break the lust-drunk haze. Open your mouth to tell him absolutely not, it’s been way to long and your need to be stretched—
He forces his entire cock into you with one brutal thrust. You scream, cry, try to flatten yourself against the bed but he won’t even let you do that, muttering about “presenting” properly. It hurts but it feels good, know that’s it’s just too much.
“Soap,” you sob, “y-you can’t— you have to… I’m-I’m gonna break.”
“Shhhh, no you’re not,” he soothes, grinding a bit deeper. Your eyes roll back, keening through your teeth. “You were made for me. You’re all for me.”
You shake your head, but he just chuckles.
“Yes, baby, yes. You let me in, you kept me. Now we belong to each other.”
“Soap, w-what are you talking about…?” you manage, fists tight in the sheets. He draws back once and slams into you, hard, mean.
Leans down so he’s rumbling directly in your ear.“‘S Johnny, hen.”
You blink, confused and overwhelmed. “W-what… n-no. No, Johnny is my….”
“Woof.”
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floatmeintothesun-2 · 4 months
Text
mornings after
Pairing: Miguel x fem!reader
Tags: Smut, Miguel being soft, fluff, wc: 1.2k, super 18+
Summary: Lazy mornings with Miguel are always the best
MINORS DNI/EXPLICIT CONTENT
Inspired by this drabble
there's an offensive beam of sunlight peeking through your curtains, cutting through the layer of darkness permeating the room. normally you'd be annoyed. normally you'd grudgingly get up and fix them yourself. but right now, you're much too busy moaning and gasping to really care, writhing in your sheets while Miguel precisely and methodically fucks your brains out with his thick cock.
he's got a heavy arm draped over you while his chest is flush to your back, warm and steady against your skin. You want to turn over to see him, see his gorgeous face, but fuck, it feels so good.
"you awake, baby?" and there he is, so smug and so fucking hot. his voice is like molten lava, searing and low, raspy and soft. you kinda want to elbow him a bit because God he sounds so satisfied with himself but he's so big and when he pistons back into you, your head goes blissfully empty.
He's not even fucking you hard, slow and deep, like he has nothing else to do, like he has all the time in the world to just stay here forever. and with the way his hands brush over your skin, you might just believe in it too.
you can't focus on anything but him, his warmth, his touch, the low rumble of his voice, him, him, him. fingers come up to pinch at your nipples, cupping your tits and fuck, you're seeing stars. it's slick, it's hot, and his cock is so fucking deep inside you think that if you were in a different position, it’d be bulging out of your lower stomach
"pretty girl," he murmurs, burying his face in your neck, "s-so fucking good for me, hm? you're so sweet — god, you drive me insane," and you feel the razor sharp points of teeth skimming over your shoulder as he moves down, trailing a path of wet kisses.
his pace is ruining you, so languid and lazy. it's torture, the way he winds you up so devastatingly slowly, building you up and unraveling you, piece by piece. sweat beads down your skin as Miguel laps up your flesh, dragging his tongue over your neck and then onto your ear. he's so close, you can feel his heartbeat, feel the way his stomach tenses and shifts, the way his body curves around yours.
“Shiiit, Miguel,” you hiss through your teeth, pressing back onto him, “you fe —feel so goddamn - good,”
Miguel makes a muffled sound into your shoulder at the praise, and his hips jump, hitting a spot that makes you suck in a sharp breath. Fuck, that feels good — so much better than good, and you’d come up with something to describe it but goddamn, it’s so hard to string together words right now. Miguel’s hand drifts from your tit, lightly tracing down, down, down, and you nearly scream when you feel him cup your mound, the heel of his palm pressing against your aching clit. He puts pressure lightly, encouraging you to rock back onto him with a liquid hum of delicious pleasure.
He’s got you so full and the way he drags thickly in and out has you practically keening. But he’s torturing you and you can feel it in the way he presses his smile into your shoulder. He knows what he’s doing — drawing you out taut, stringing out your orgasm with gentle, deep thrusts. It’s not enough. You need him harder, faster. Maybe if he hadn’t teased and teased and teased last night, you would’ve been more patient. More satisfied by this.
But you’re not. You want all of him, just like how he wants all of you.
“Miguel —“ you rasp, “i need more — fuuck.. I need y- need you so bad — “
Miguel groans and his hips jolt, his breath shuddering in his chest. 
“What — shit - is it, baby? What do you need?” He asks, even though he knows exactly what you want — he just wants to hear it from your pretty mouth. 
“ give me — m- more,” you beg breathlessly, clenching down on his thick cock and wiggling your hips. His pelvis automatically pushes forward at the tightness, and he muffles his whine into your skin, pulling you impossibly closer as he tries to calm himself. 
“Needy girl,” he grits out, and he pulls out halfway, only to jerk right back into you with a punishing snap, “-can’t get enough— of this cock, hm? Just — shiiit…” He sucks in a labored breath. You like the way he says it, low and heavy and so goddamn hot - you’re drowning between your legs, soaking his thighs. Miguel hisses, shoving his cock deeper, a rough moan escaping him. 
You wish you could kiss him, could grab at his hair and claw at his shoulders while he breaks you apart and builds you back together slowly. You settle for clutching at the arm looped around you, screwing your eyes shut at the onslaught of pleasure searing through your veins. You can feel it in the tips of your fingers all the way down to your toes. he's speeding up, chasing his own release as much as he is for yours, gasping against your skin. 
His slow and lazy pace has all but disappeared now, and he's fucking you in earnest, his thick and heavy cock dragging inside you, pressing up against that one spot thet makes you scream. there's a blinding white pulsing in your vision as your stomach twists into tight knots and no matter what you do, it just keeps mounting, higher, brighter. 
god, it's all encompassing, you feel like sparks are igniting through your nerve endings and you nearly sob.
you cum hard, clenching and convulsing around him, stars erupting across your vision. a great moan tears out of Miguel's throat as he fucks you through it, heaving as he presses in as far as he possibly can, his grip tightening and his abdomen tensing as he finally finishes. 
he stills as thick viscous cum pumps into you in ropes, his teeth sinking lightly into the meat of your shoulder, threatening to break skin. He gives a few last lazy thrusts before slumping, relaxing and tugging you flush to his body with a huff. While you blink stars out of your eyes, Miguel pulls out and flips you over, settling down with an arm draped over you.
“Ugh…i feel so sticky,” You grumble, taking the opportunity to press a kiss to his cheek. He opens his eyes, and fuck, he’s so goddamn pretty. Radiant. “We should go wash up.”
“Mm…five more minutes. I don’t want to get up,” He mumbles, turning your face to his so he can kiss you lazily, tongue swiping over your bottom lip. You know him. 5 minutes will turn into 10, then 30, then before you know it, you‘ll have spent the entire morning cuddled in bed with him. Judging by the way he’s looking at you (eyes that crinkle in the corners) he knows it too. 
“Fine. Just five minutes though,” You kiss him back and he makes a low sound in the back of his throat, his eyelashes fluttering shut as you keep on kissing him, again, again, again, to make up for not being able to while he rocked your world. 
“Just five minutes,” He agrees, hunkering down and grabbing the blanket, drawing it back over both of you. 
You end up spending much longer than five minutes in Miguel O’Hara’s bed. It’s not something you’re opposed to doing again. 
Guys i blacked out this wasn’t supposed to turn into a fic. I told myself 500 words at the most but i have no self control
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drurrito · 13 days
Text
Night Drive (18+)
Summary: You get a new car
AN: 18+ only y'all--we're gonna pretend that there are plenty of other self-driving cars that aren't t*sla...I hope this makes up for me not putting out another part of AYTO yet! All mistakes are mine.
Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Reader
Warnings: cursing; reader has a dick; dom//powerbottom!Natasha; sub//top!reader
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You sink lower into your seat as you rev the engine of your new car with the widest grin Natasha can't see. Natasha looks hardly impressed from your view beyond the barely-legal tint of the windows.
You decide to roll down your window and plead your case.
"Hey baby."
Natasha rolls her eyes. You already screw yourself coming right out the gate with pleasantries, Natasha knows you're desperate to get on her good side when you do that.
"So...what do you think?" You vaguely gesture to the rest of the car and Natasha scoffs.
"I think you were a finance bro in your past life," she crosses her arms, and you relent, "probably," you sing as you round the car to lean against the hood. The gun metal gray still holds a shine in the moonlight. This wasn't an impulse purchase, you had been talking about buying a new car for a while now. You would go on little rants about the specs of certain cars whenever you saw them on the road or on TV. It's not like you were waiting when you had the money, being an avenger was a pretty-paying gig. You were just waiting for the right one, at the right time--a method you mastered by the time Natasha came around.
"Wanna go for a joyride?" You offer, already leaning off the hood and spinning the key in your hand.
Natasha wants to keep giving you a hard time, but you look so damn good in front of your sleek, expensive, new backdrop. Your muscles bulge under your fitted black shirt, and you have the cockiest smile on your face, like you knew you were winning this race.
"And if we get pulled over?"
"With SHIELD plates? I'm not worried about it," it almost comes out like it's scripted. You're not above rehearsing a speech for Natasha if it means getting your way. You're pulling out all the stops, but Natasha wants to remind you who's really behind the wheel. Her eyes rake over you slowly, intensely--the same way fresh lava travels over earth. You're standing at attention and you don't even know it.
"You gonna open the door for me or just stand there like you forgot your manners?" Natasha watches in amusement as you fumble for the door handle. She slides onto the cool leather while you make your way into the driver's seat yet again. You wait patiently for her to get comfortable and buckle in.
It's only when you rev the engine with a wink that Natasha muses this might have been a bad idea on her part. You punch the gas pedal and she's quickly acquainted with the back of the cherry red bucket seat.
----------------
Natasha decides that she doesn't like going fast unless the fate of the world depends on it. She also decides this is the one exception when she sees the freeway system of veins in your forearms as you grip the steering wheel. Natasha feels like she's flying when she watches your triceps flex while you turn the wheel or do something as mundane as turning on her seat heater.
Natasha slides her seatbelt off in a way that doesn't set off the sensor--she didn't want this moment to be ruined by a lecture on why it's important to buckle-up. You're too distracted by the beat of your night drive playlist to notice her crawling closer to you.
You feel her lips on the shell of your ear, "eyes on the road, got it?"
"Yes ma'am," you try to say cooly, you don't dare chance a look over at her. She hums with satisfaction and rewards you with a kiss on the skin behind your ear and a nibble on your lobe that tightens the coil in your belly.
Natasha sucks and licks at your neck while her deft fingers work to undo your belt and zipper. Her hand explores the border of your waistband before dipping under and finding what it was looking for. You let out a whisper of a gasp when Natasha admires your full length and girth. Your grip on the wheel tightens, Natasha chuckles when she hears the leather under your fingers groan.
Natasha begins to stroke you slowly, agonizingly so, but that doesn't keep your hips from bucking up into her hand.
"Tash," that only elicits a rumble against your neck. Natasha's other hand curls around your neck and gives a light squeeze that makes your vision blur for a second. Her stroking picks up speed, you have to work impossibly hard to keep your foot off the brakes.
"Natasha, please."
"I like the way you say please, baby," she mumbles with your skin between her teeth.
"What did I tell you?"
"Eyes on the road, ma'am," you say with a quickness that makes the corner of her lips curl up in satisfaction.
"So smart," she praises before you helplessly watch her head lower until you feel her lips greet your cock with a sloppy kiss. You throw your head back against your seat with a pathetic moan.
"So desperate," Natasha teases, and your mind feels like it's going a million miles an hour--multitasking is usually your strong suit, but it seems damn near impossible now.
Natasha's tongue travels the length of you, your hips feebly buck into her mouth when she finally grants you entrance. You slow your speed to safely take a hand off the wheel and hold her hair back. She thanks you with a gentle squeeze on your thigh and the prettiest sounds you could have only ever imagined.
Your playlist is already repeating itself by the time Natasha comes up for air. She can barely hear it over your panting anyway. You're rock hard and right where she wants you.
"The car can drive itself, you know," you breathe out. Natasha's brow quirks with curiosity.
"Show me," it's a gentle command, but your fingers rush to press the right sequence of buttons. You ease the seat back with haste, and Natasha just lets you sit there for a few beats to take you in and also leave you in suspense.
Your fingers dumbly flex against your legs while you wait for further instruction from Natasha. She doesn't even try to hide her smirk when your eyes begin to dart between the road and her.
"You're not gonna let us crash right, dove?" Natasha's finger traces a feather-light trail down your arm. It's a genuine question, even though she knows you probably did some sizable research on the safety features of the car before you even entertained buying it.
"No ma'am, you're precious cargo," you give an easy smile and that's Natasha's cue to move and straddle your lap. You help her with your hands on her hips, your hands quickly retreating to your sides when she's situated over you.
Natasha swears your eyes are sparkling as you watch her slide her panties to the side with one hand and take your length in the other.
"Eyes on me, baby, just for a second," she coos and you obey. Natasha can't help but admire the striations of your muscles working overtime to restrain yourself. You've always been intoxicatingly obedient, even when it's downright painful. Your eyes are locked on Natasha's, you have to bite your lip to stifle a moan when she finally eases down onto your cock. She's already working her hips in a way that has your entire body buzzing. You can count on one hand how many cars have passed you by this whole time, just like you expected.
Your fingers dig into the leather of your seat, your eyes periodically glancing at the road to make sure it hasn't veered off course for whatever reason. Natasha steals a few sloppy kisses when she leans into you to get a better angle and bounce on your cock at a speed that should be illegal.
"Tash, I'm gonna-," you choke out between labored breaths.
"What was that baby?" she leans back and oh god, you wish you had the kind of self-control your car has right now. You feel like you're going to pass out watching Natasha ride your cock, you're too blissed out to realize that she's spelling out 'm-i-n-e-' with her hips.
"I'm gonna come so fast."
"I know baby."
That seals your fate. Your arm reaches back to brace yourself against the seat. With a long and drawn-out "fuck," Natasha feels you push deeper into her, filling her up with every last drop of you. You both fall into a sweaty, moaning heap against the seat. Your body trembling with aftershocks as Natasha scratches at the skin on the back of your neck. You only get to drink this feeling in for a few seconds until you see red and blue flashing lights in your rearview mirror.
"Shit," you sit up and Natasha freezes when she sees what you see. You feverishly check your speedometer, you're not speeding. You start rifling through your brain to see if you forgot to do something, insurance? Plates? Registration?
Your questions are answered when you watch the cop car speed off into the night. Natasha lets out a heavy sigh of relief that makes your dick twitch, reminding you both that you're still inside of her.
"Told you," you try not to sound so exasperated. Natasha just rolls her eyes before kissing your temple. Night drives might just become a regular thing now.
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greiiliss · 1 year
Text
I said it once and now I can't stop thinking about everyone in Limited Life just being kids on a playground
They all have different curfews, and their clock runs out when they need to go home
Scott found a puddle and is making a very pretty mud-castle
Pearl and BigB are playing spies, sneaking up on everyone and watching them through the bushes. Pearl brought her cat from home, and BigB keeps finding and carrying around frogs
The TIES are trying to make a shelter for some bugs they found (probably slugs or caterpillars or smth). They have lost track of every bug they found (except for one, which Joel stomped on), and are constantly searching for more
Entertainment mountain is a giant boulder that the Clockers are playing house on. Cleo was declared Mom because she is the tallest out of the entertainers, and because she keeps yelling at Scar to put his shirt back on
Scar has a bunch of erasers and bracelets and stuff from the school store that he keeps trying to trade with everyone
The Bad Boys claimed the playground as their territory. They all have kiddie sunglasses. Joel's are too big for him and slip down his nose.
Cleo declares a game of The Floor is Lava every time the Bad Boys annoy her.
Boogeyman curse is a game of tag
The Bad Boys made Bad Boys Bread Bridge out of everyone's lunchboxes. They hopped on the lunchboxes during The Floor is Lava so Joel could tag one of the Clockers
Skizz and Bdubs' fight was an actual fistfight. Skizz tapped Bdubs once and was declared winner
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residenthughes · 3 months
Text
opera house - jack hughes
pairing: jack hughes x afab reader
word count: 2.5k
tags/warnings: +18 nsfw, so minors dni, oral sex (m on f), dirty talk (if you can call it that?), no mention of y/n, pet names (baby, princess)
summary: reading is your favourite pastime. jack makes it harder than anticipated.
notes: so...🫣 this happened. it's a small little thing that started out with me just wanting to write about how pretty jack is only to turn into the respectful pile of filth. don't write smut much so apologies if this isn't to your liking, but hopefully i'll be back with something better. also, the sentence in italics is a quote from the book mentioned in the fic. much love! <3
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As the cold November climate nips at your flesh and colours the sky in hues of grey, you nestle in the cosiness of your home, warm and sheltered with your treasured fuzzy socks on as you curl up on your bed with one of the books you’ve been meaning to read. Jack says it’s a bad habit of yours: buying books that collect dust on your shelf, to which you quickly argue that he’s the one enabling your ‘bad habit’ by constantly buying them for you - your Goodreads profile bookmarked in his phone for safe keeping. An endearing act of service, all of which he is no stranger to - gifting said books in the form of a bouquet every time he leaves for a long road trip, taking out the trash because he knows it’s your least favourite chore, curling up with you now, sweetly bundled in between your legs as you two find peace in the silence you share. It’s like a warm hot chocolate on a chilly day like today, your connection smooth and comforting, wrapping you in the warmth of its embrace.
You peer beyond the top of your book, catching an eyeful of the back of Jack’s head and his loose curls, the soft clicks of his gamer control sounding as his eyes focus on the TV screen a few metres ahead. Your sugary thoughts of how endearing your long-term boyfriend can be - always is - overflow like lava, the smile on your face terribly enamoured as your fingers card through his hair, curling the soft locks around your index finger.
Like clockwork, Jack leans into your touch, slouching further into his position in between your thighs, laying a chilly cheek against the flesh of your thighs.
You squirm against the brush of his eyelashes against your skin. “That tickles.”
“Uh huh,” he absently answers, tapping away at his gamer control. “Does this?”
A delicate kiss marks you, Jack’s head going back to laying against your thigh as he directs his attention to the game set out against the TV.
“No,” you blush. “But, that was nice.”
A huff of amusement sounds from Jack and instantly, you know what position you've put yourself in by saying that. “Bet it was. Aren’t you busy with that book of yours?”
You bite back, the muscles of your thighs tightening their grip around your boyfriend. “Sometimes a distraction is necessary.”
The clicks of his gamer control halt and silence envelopes the room, your eyebrow raised as his on-screen character dies as a result of his negligence. 
Jack clears his throat, his body shuffling against yours as he readjusts his position, restarting the game. “Maybe you’re right about that, baby.”
A pout remains settled against your lips as your eyes squint at your partner, your suspicion towards his action not enough to distract you from the habitual motion of your fingers as they thread through Jack’s hair. You raise your opened book back to eye-level, not batting an eyelash.
It’s when you’ve gotten perhaps three sentences into your book that Jack breaks the silence. “What’s the story about?”
“The book I’m currently reading?” Jack hums in reply. “Oh, it’s a spinoff of a series I’ve been meaning to read. It’s basically a college romance story about a girl aspiring to be on the national ice hockey team and her getting help from this guy she met years ago, called Ryder. Unexpectedly smutty, 10/10 would recommend.”
Jack laughs with you at your nasty comment, body vibrating against yours as his chuckle courses through him. You lower your book again.
“You and your smutty books,” Jack snickers to himself, eyes trained ahead of him. There’s a pause before he speaks again. “In what ways is it unexpectedly smutty?”
Despite how long you’ve been with Jack and the comfort you've established living alongside him, the question does make you a bit flustered, crimsoning as you look away, avoiding any view of him. “Well, it’s pretty raunchy up front. Like how they’ve done some naughty things in the shower - quite tame, but I’ve also just read that Ryder did some things when they went to go see the opera.”
“What things?” Jack asks, point blank.
Now, it’s time for you to clear your throat. Cheeks tinted. “Do I even have to say, Jack?”
The pause screen displays itself against the TV, the clicks of his controller no more as Jack shifts once again within your grasp, body turning as he lays his stomach against the comfort of the mattress, pools of azure staring into yours. Your heart thuds in your chest.
“Yes, I wanna hear what things you’re reading,” he says easily as if he isn’t inciting violence in your chest right now, the corner of his pink lips curved softly as he tilts his head against your thigh. “All of it.”
Suddenly, the temperature in the room escalates from toasty warm to scorching hot, a familiar flame in the pits of your stomach igniting as you’ve somehow found yourself in such a predicament - backed into a corner and at a loss for words.
“He,” you stammer, averting your eyes because all Jack’s eyes do is look at you, his burning gaze elevating the heat that dances against the surface of your cheeks. “He fingers her in the opera.”
You whisper that last part but Jack hears you judging by the faint chuckle coming from him. “He fingers who at the opera?”
He accents his point with a kiss against your thigh, this time the gesture conjuring a polar opposite sensation as goosebumps riddle your skin. You let out a shaky breath you hadn’t known you were holding, looking again at your partner to still find him looking right back at you, eyelids heavy and eyes dark. You have to look away.
You gulp. “Gigi - her name is Gigi.”
You finally muster some sort of courage you’ve had to find within your situation when you hear Jack shift again, eyes capturing your boyfriend’s arms coming up to circle around your thighs, eyes never leaving yours as his hands find purchase against your skin, thumbs absently caressing the surface much like you did earlier with his hair. 
“Is that short for something?” Jack accents his question with another kiss, his touch searing. 
“No,” you gulp, voice foolishly unsteady as your eyes study Jack’s movements with caution. “I mean, Ryder jokes that her name is Gisele, but that’s-”
“Guys like to tease,” he kisses a little higher against your thigh as if to prove his point. “Especially with girls they like.”
“I don’t think that’s appreciated, Jack.” 
You’re talking about a completely different thing now - a conversation within a conversation. 
“I don’t know about that, baby,” whilst still staring at you, his teeth manage to nip at a small sliver of your skin, numbness plaguing your limbs. “Read it to me.”
Your brows knit together, puzzled as ever. “What?”
“You heard me,” declares Jack, his kisses abundantly littering the expanse of your thigh as your mind begins to spiral. “Read it to me.”
Your mind is frazzled, brain working overtime to comprehend the sudden turn of events, all the while Jack takes it upon himself to sit pretty in between your legs and touch you as if made from porcelain - delicate and tender, a sharp contrast to the emotions bathing you in lust. Jack glances up at you one more time, button nose nuzzling against your inner thigh as he gives you a knowing look, his lips preoccupied. You obey wordlessly, uneasy eyes still on him as you bring your book back upwards, its previous position altered so you can manage to steal a look at Jack out of your peripheral.
Out loud, you begin to read to him the aftermath of the opera scene, a more tame development following as you manage to get through the next page unscathed. Jack’s kisses at first, are a bit distracting and have your voice betray you, but they’re sporadic and by the time you’ve turned the page, you’re already used to the sensation. You even achieve some comfort in his touch, but that doesn’t last long because when you’re in the midst of your storytelling, you feel Jack’s fingers hook around your shorts��� waistband.
Immediately, you lower your book, a chill running down your spine. “What are you doing?”
He bats his long eyelashes, almost mockingly. “Listening to you.”
“Jack.” For once, your tone is firm, watching aimlessly as he inches the material past your hip bones.
“Lift your hips a little or I won’t be able to get these off you,” he insists, a convincing smile settled amongst his charming features that express his pleasure in this all. “Unless you wanna keep them on?”
It’s a rhetorical question, a trap set up to see if you’ll bite and despite it all, the excitement of what’s to come leads you right where Jack wants you. Lifting your hips with an embarrassing ache in between your legs as you lie in anticipation, continuing on with your reading as Jack goes back to teasing you endlessly.
“Gettin’ pretty worked up over this story, huh?” echoes Jack. “I can tell.”
To demonstrate the meaning of his words, he blows a cool breeze against you that makes you mewl and draw your thighs closer at the sensation. Heart thudding against your chest, your bewildered gaze gravitates back to Jack who kisses you through the fabric of your underwear and has you fumbling for words.
“I didn’t say you could stop reading,” Jack removes his lips, peering up at you with a look that melts you into a pathetic pool of yourself. “You stop, I stop. Sound fair?”
That sounds anything but fair, but who are you to say so? He clearly holds all the power in this situation, you dancing right in the palm of his hand. This has escalated beyond a point of no return and you’re not backing out now so you oblige, opening your mouth to read but uttering out nothing more than a moan as Jack pulls your underwear to the side, his fingers gliding through your wet folds. 
“So satisfying to tease you when your reactions are this good,” he rasps, followed by a low chuckle as his calloused fingertip circles around your clit, eliciting the buck of your hips and the waiver in your voice. “Anyways, you were saying?”
You’re grasping for straws here, trying to tie yourself down to the little sanity (and patience) you have as your frantic eyes try and find where you last left off, straying away every couple of words as Jack does nothing more than use his fingers to distract you. 
“Words, baby. Use your words,” he instructs, and it’s the sexist thing you’ve ever heard in your entire life. “We follow...”
“We follow..the people,” you falter, voice wobbly. “We follow the people in…”
Somewhere in that sentence, a hefty exhale blows past your mouth as Jack moves two fingers into you, the curl of them accentuating the end of your sentence with a moan. 
“Always sound so pretty with my fingers in you,” muses Jack, tone low and memorised as he works said fingers in and out of you, your slick building all around his fingers. “Can’t get enough of it.”
You do a subpar job of reading the next few lines as Jack’s fingers pick up the pace, moving deeper in you to milk every reaction you give him mixed in with your slurred words. Your attempt at remaining coherent diminishes completely when Jack’s lips find their way to your swollen clit, a light press of the lips against the hood of your clit before he’s sucking on the bud.
Your words come out in stutters, voice trembling pathetically as he wraps you around his fingers, making a mess of you in the form of kitten licks against your clit and nibble fingers coaxing your building orgasm out of you. His motions stop every time you get lost in the feeling of him sucking your clit, fingers tangled in his locks of hair. And with a whine, you compel with his previous instructions, reading along with the world’s prettiest distraction in between your legs. 
Somehow, you make it to the next page without much delay, Jack’s mouth trained on you as he laps up every bit of you, tongue drawing all kinds of figures against or around your clit. You’re clenching around his fingers more than you can forgive yourself for, body running hot as the sounds of your slick echo throughout the room, the pit in your stomach only growing.
“Just like that, princess,” he hums against your clit, the sensation drawing a tight-lipped whimper from you as your hips follow the vibration. “How many more pages until the chapter’s finished? I don’t think you’re gonna last long.”
And, it’s all true. Body twitching, toes curling and cunt spasming around his fingers that curl in you. Your brain can barely keep up at this point. “So many.”
Jack tsks, his thumb replacing his lips against your clit as he moves it in slow circles. “You think you can hold on till then?”
You answer truthfully, however embarrassing it may be. “No.” 
He laughs briefly when he hits that spongy part inside of you, your back bowing off the stacked pillows behind you as Jack continues to hit the exact spot that has you seeing stars. 
“How ‘bout a compromise?” Jack starts, your hips lifting to meet the insistent thrust of his fingers. “You tell me how badly you wanna come, and you get to ditch the book whilst I make you come. Sounds good?”
An awfully generous offer considering how your brain has turned to mush and can barely keep up with any of the inked words on the page right now. So, you agree. Enthusiastically.
“Please,” you mewl with a puckered forehead, gazing down at your beautiful boyfriend with his tousled hair and glossy lips. A sight for sore eyes. “Please, J. I wanna come.”
“How bad?” He doesn’t miss a beat, eyes challenge yours.
“So bad,” you keen when his other hand lays over your stomach, applying pressure to the spongy spot that teethers you on the very edge. “Fuck, it’s only you. Only you can…make me feel good. Please, J.” 
The begging works. It always works and with that, you drop your book, long discarded amidst the mess of the sheets as your fingers tangle in Jack’s hair as he sucks roughly on your clit again. Rocking up against his mouth, the angle of his fingers renders you completely at his mercy, uttering stuttery breaths as he brings you over the edge, applying pressure in all the right places because he knows your body better than you do, gushing slick flowing from you as you ride out your high, brain reduced to syrup. 
He doesn’t even wait before you’ve caught your breath that he sends you a flirtatious wink in between your quivering thighs. “So, opera date next week?”
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hazashiovo · 2 months
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Helloooo!! Can I request mako and bolín (seperate) being protective of their (s/o), thank you a lot<33
Ofc u can!
A/n: mako and Bolin have the most requests so far,I'm really glad tbh that people are submitting requests,keep em coming.i also added in Korra and Kuvira ,since this seems like a perfect imagine for them.
Genre: Fluff
Mako x reader, Bolin x reader, Kuvira x reader,Korra x reader (all separate)
Overprotective Lovers
Warnings: none.
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Starting off with Mako,he's the kind of guy that doesn't take well to someone talking to you in some kind of mean way in front of him, especially if you're more a more naive person.
Even if you take care of yourself, he's still there making sure you're away from harms way.
If you ever get hurt or kidnapped,it's over for whoever did it, it's not like he's usually a calm person,but take away his favorite person and you got yourself a big problem to deal with.
Even when you're not exactly in danger, he's there. It's sweet really,but it can also be annoying when overdone.
You like being protected by him,but not all the time, he didn't like it when you talked to Korra, claiming since she's the avatar she would draw unnecessary attention over you and put you in complicated situations.
Of course you explain to him that you're a big girl and that you can watch over yourself,but he just can't understand it. {Sigh}.
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Korra? Well she had her ups and downs. But she learned ,ok? Once you two got together ,this feeling that's she allways had grew stronger,her urge to protect you.
Of course she would blame it on the fact that she's the avatar,but really it was her being protective of you.
Even before dating her ,you knew this would draw a lot of attention to yourself, and potential enemies of the avatar would want to harm you. But that didn't stop you,after all you're free to love whoever you want even if it endangers you.
When Korra faced Amon she used to be Terrified something bad would happen to you, even her dreams would be hunted by dark images. She would see Amon preparing to take away your bending,but each time she would wake up before anything happened,in cold sweat,with you by her side.
If you're a light sleeper,you would assure her nothing happened to you,and that you're okay.
Even after she defeated Amon, more villains appeared,making Korra constantly worry about you. But one thing is sure, that she would always be there to protect you,and in case anything happens,to save you.
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This boy is the most carefree of them all. He doesn't really have to worry that you would be kidnapped or hurt most of the time,but if it ever happens, either someone hurt you or something went wrong in the mission?
He's full boyfriend mode on. He wouldn't be like Korra or Mako, first thing he would do is bring you to safety, revenge not being his thing.
If you're okay ,that's what matters to him. But now if you're especially targeted by someone? He's not as chill as before. Especially since he recently learned how to lava bend, which makes him a pretty strong bender, definitely not the kind you would want to piss off by chasing around his girlfriend,nu uh.
Bolin knew it was a mistake to introduce you to his boss, Varrick.
That man would make flirty jokes with you,which always made Bolin roll his eyes and mock him quietly.
So what if he's smart and rich? You wouldn't like a prick like him.
Whenever Varrick got too close, your boy would be there to put distance between the two of you. It's not that he's jealous,but he knows how his boss is.
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Yeah no. I doubt anyone would even try to threaten you while she's around.
After all the power and respect she gained, expect people to fear you just because you're with her. So mostly Kuvira doesn't have to worry that anyone is gonna try anything.
After all she made quite a name for herself.
Even so, being The Great Uniter's s/o came with it's disadvantages.
For example,if someone really wanted to hurt her,they would target you. You're her soft spot,and she knows it.
Yes,you have your personal guards picked by Kuvira herself. Just because she doesn't expect you to be attacked it doesn't mean she won't be prepared for it.
You're hers,and the world knows it.
.
.
A/n : I really enjoyed writing this,I might make another part with different characters :)
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