#Screen cap study
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#screen cap study#death in the family#jack napier#jason todd#joker#jason about to put some cutlery to use rip#batman
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A little screen cap study I did of Alan in Gouche and watercolours.
I really enjoy the subtle detail I the background, and just his overall expression, He's ready to kick some butt 🚀
#alan tracy#thunderbirds are go#thunderbirds#thunderbirds 2015#thunderbirds fanart#screen cap study#gouache#watercolours#traditional art#my artwork
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favourite homoerotic sexually charged katsudon performance
#yuri on ice#yuuri katsuki#yuri katsuki#yoi#fanart#illustration#simple#anime#my art#clown does art#yoi fanart#eros yuuri#is that a tag?????#idfk#anyways heres ur yoi fanart bc of my rewatch#there might be more but only other thing ive done was a tracing redraw of a screen cap to study the shows anatomy#so obvs not rlly gonna post it#there are a lot of screencaps i wanna redraw or photobash into a new composition for me to draw#also considering looking thru my old sketchbooks and redrawing some of that yoi art#and just maybe indulging and drawing yurio bc he so bastard <3
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Sean Connery Bond doodles
I’ve actually become a huge James Bond fan over the course of this year (thanks to gradually watching every single Bond movie with my friend Roos since February lol) so I think it’s about time that I made some Bond fanart
#the colored pencil sketches on the left were studies from screen caps and the left were from my brain once I got comfortable drawing him😎#james bond#sean connery#is there an active bond fandom? hiii 007 fandom~ hiii~
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#anyway#mandalorian and grogu#grogu djarin#din djarin#digital drawing#artists on tumblr#digital art#starwars#the mandalorian#don’t @ me about accuracy ok#this is a screen cap study#fanart#procreate#snewoart#main characters#I used a font named din alternate#that’s funny to me
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#the magic flute#screen cap study from the royal operas YouTube channel#making myself shade hair even when it’s hard#King0fcrows art
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You with Nick’s moles 🤝 me with Mac’s
I don't think people quite understand how much this man lives in my head
#these are just studies from screen caps#So I won't tag them as art#But yes some of these are from ge as Jack#And yes I think about kissing that mole even now#Even as I think about another csi and another character from it#Ft work wife sara#Not his work wife i think it's funnier if she's my work wife
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I think the reader's response to this post is probably going to either be "That's incredibly minor" or "Holy shit YES I'M ALSO PROUD", depending on people's personal experiences with academia, but:
Today I am incredibly proud of one of my students.
In the interests of disguising identities, let's call them Ceri. Ceri is one of my third year undergrads (meaning their final year, for anyone unfamiliar with UK uni systems.) They transferred to us last year, and within two weeks I was giving them the contact info to get to Student Services and get themself screened for ADHD; they have some mental health struggles, but I clocked pretty quickly that they STRUGGLE with procrastination, and punctuality, and attending 9am lectures in particular. Naturally, as is the way of my people, it took them a further four months to remember to go to the screening. Lol. Lmao. Rofl, in fact.
But, they did it eventually! Their screening lit up like a Christmas tree at the ADHD section, and they got a free laptop and optional one week extensions and a study support worker named Claire. This has helped tremendously, and although mental health + until-then-unsupported ADHD meant their academic profile had slid sideways somewhat, with the new tools available and a couple of resits they passed the year and hit this year running.
Until, that is, the last fortnight.
Now, I take them for a Habitat Management module that has two assessments: an academic poster presentation before Christmas, and a site-specific management plan in May. Naturally this means we are at that happy point in the year for the poster presentations. I give out the briefs at the start of the year, so they've had them since October; I've also been periodically checking in with them all for weeks, to make sure they don't have any major burning questions. The poster presentation was to pick a species reintroduction project, pull the habitat feasibility study out of it, and then critique that study; Ceri chose to look at the hen harrier reintroductions proposed for the southern UK. All good.
Which brings us nicely to today! Ceri's presentation is scheduled for 2.30. At 11am-1pm, I am lecturing the first years on Biodiversity, while Ceri is learning about environmental impact assessment with a colleague I shall call Aeron. This means we are separately occupied during those same hours.
Nevertheless, Aeron messages me at about 12.
"I think Ceri needs to see you after your lecture," he writes. "They're panicking, I genuinely think they might cry. I'm worried. Are you free at 1?"
I say I am. At 1, I get lunch and sit in the common area; Ceri comes to see me. To my personal shame, imagine all of the following takes place while I stuff my face with potato.
Now: this part is going to be uncomfortably familiar to anyone who has ever tried higher education with ADHD, especially unmedicated. It certainly was for me. All I can say is, I never had the courage to take the step here that Ceri did.
"I have to confess," they said quietly, and Aeron was right, they were fighting back tears. "My mental health has been so, so bad for the last fortnight. I've left it way, way too late. I don't have anything to present."
"Nothing at all?" I asked.
"I've been researching," they said helplessly. "I found loads on the decline of the hen harrier. But it wasn't until last night that I finally found a habitat feasibility study to critique. Generally... I've been burying my head about it, and it just got later and later. I thought I should come in for Aeron's lecture, and I should at least tell you."
This part is a minor thing, right? But honestly, I remember being in the grip of that particular shame spiral. I never did manage to tell my lecturers to their faces. I just avoided. I honestly can't imagine having the courage it took them to come in and tell me this, rather than just staying home and avoiding me.
"I think..." they said hesitantly, "I know I can submit up to a week late, for a capped mark. I think I need to do that, and apply for extenuating circumstances. But then I'll have both Aeron's assignment and yours due at the same time."
Which meant they would crumble under the pressure and likely struggle to pass both; so me, being as noble and heroic as I unarguably am, stopped eating potato and said, "Let's make that plan B."
(It was good potato. I am a hero.)
So, we made plan A: I moved their timeslot to 4.30, giving them three and a half hours. The shining piece of luck in this whole thing was that this was the crunch time assignment - if it had been Aeron's, they'd have had to try and write a 3000 report in that time. But for me, all they had to write was an academic poster, and those things are light on words by design. We found them a Canva template, and then we quickly sketched out a recommended structure based on the brief: if it's habitat feasibility, look at food availability, nesting site availability, and mortality risks in the target release site. Bullet point each. Bullet point how well the study assessed each. Write a quick intro and conclusion. Take notes as you go, and present the poster itself at 4.30.
"You think I should try?" they asked doubtfully, looking like I'd just asked them to go mano-a-mano with a feral badger.
"If you run out of time, so be it," I said. "But your brain is trying to protect you from a non-existent tiger. That's why you've procrastinated - it's been horrible, and you've been shame spiralling, and your brain is trying to shield you from the negative experience; but it's the wrong type of help for this situation! So while you're sitting there working on it, hating life, every time your brain goes 'This is hopeless, I can't do it', you think right back 'Yes I can, it just sucks.' And you carry on. Good?"
"Good," they said. "I'm going to mainline coffee and hole up in the library. Enjoy your potato."
And then, of course, I had to go and watch the other students' presentations, so that was the end of me being any help at all. I spent all afternoon wondering if they were going to manage it, or if I would be getting a message at 4.25 telling me they'd failed, and would have to submit late and hope for an EC.
And Tumblrs
Tumblrs
Let me FUCKING tell you
They turned up at 4.15, fifteen minutes early, wearing a mask of grim, harrowed determination and fuelled by spite and coffee, and they pulled up that poster and started presenting and yes, okay, I'll admit their actual delivery was dramatically unpolished and yes, they forgot to include the taxanomic name for the hen harrier on the poster and yes, fine, I admit that there were more than a few awkward moments where they lost their place in their hastily scribbled notebook but LET ME FUCKING TELL YOU -
They smashed it. It was well-critiqued, it had a map, it had full citations, it had a section on the hen harrier's specific ecology and role in the ecosystem, it had notes on their specific conservation measures. They described case studies they'd read about elsewhere. They answered the questions we threw at them with competence and depth. There was analysis. All that background research they'd done came right to the fore. They were even within the time limit by 15 seconds.
You would never have known they'd produced it in three hours, from a quivering and terrified mess fighting the bodily urge to dehydrate via tear ducts. After they left, the second marker and I looked at each other and went "So that was a 2:1, right?"
I caught up with Aeron downstairs and he was beaming. Apparently Ceri had seen him on their way out, and had gone over to talk to him. Aeron said the difference between the Ceri of this morning and the Ceri of then was like two different people; in four hours, they'd gone from their voice literally breaking as they admitted the problem, ashamed and broken, to being relaxed and happy and smiling.
"I reckon I've passed," they apparently told Aeron, pleased. "Maybe even a 2:2. There's things I wish I'd had the time to do better, but I'll be happy if I passed."
They won't know until late January what they got, because we're not allowed to release marks until 20 term days after hand-in, and the Christmas holidays are about to hit. But I'm really hoping I can be there when they're released.
But mostly, I'm just... insanely proud of them. I cannot tell you how happy I am. And I know, I know, obviously this is not a practice I would want to see them do regularly, or indeed ever again, and it only worked because they were fucking lucky with the assignment format, but like... when life is just punching you in the face, and you hit a breaking point... isn't it nice? That just this once, you pull off a miracle, and it's fixed? The disaster you thought was about to ruin you is gone? To get that relief?
Anyway. Super super proud today.
#I mean I'm often proud of my students of course#the warm fuzzy feeling is one of the best parts of lecturing#but MAN this one got me today#the professional world of careers and tasks#adhd
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Wondering what boop count your 3 letter word corresponds to? I gotchu:
Using a python script I wrote, I booped myself 50,000 times, saving an image of my boop-o-meter every 500 boops. Before we get into the results, there are two important limitations to this study that I should mention:
Firstly, because I only recorded the boop-o-meter every 500 boops, if a message appeared for less than 500 boops it may not have been caught.
Secondly, every now and then my computer would lose a boop or two when a click wouldn't register. This is seen in the 500 and 1000 boop images below, which in reality read 498 and 994 respectively. Because of this, boop values are slightly lower than they appear.
With that out of the way, lets dig in.
0-999:
From boops 0-999, the boop-o-meter displays your boop count, and changes color as you boop
Boop count: 0 Boop count: 500 Boop count: 1000
Boop fact: the colors do not change after 1000
LOL:
Between boops 1000 and 1500, the boop-o-meter changed to display 'LOL'. This likely took place at 1000 boops, but maybe it said 'MAX' or sumn for awhile at first? Idk this is already the misinformation website so not my problem.
Boop count: 1500 (actually more like 1490 ish)
More results below the cut
OMG:
Between 1500 and 2000, the boop-o-meter changed to display 'OMG'. Again, this probably happened at 1500 but who knows. Maybe staff made it 1523 for the bit or something.
Boop count: ~2000
WOW:
The boop-o-meter remained at omg until the 3500 boop readpoint, when it switched to 'WOW', meaning this transition happens somewhere between ~2980 and ~3480.
Boop count: ~3500
Boop fact: 'WOW' is the second longest reigning message
*-*:
Between 5000 and 5500 the boop-o-meter switched to '*-*'. You get the idea at this point so I'll speed it up.
Boop count: ~5500
WHY:
The boop-o-meter changed to 'WHY' between 6000 and 6500 boops. For science. That's why.
Boop count: ~6500
PLZ:
Next was 'PLZ', switching between 7000 and 7500.
Boop count: ~7500
AAA:
I'm not sure what bloody urine has to do with anything, but for some reason staff felt is was important to display, switching between 7500 and 8000.
Boop count: ~8000
;_;:
Huh the colon makes that one look weird. 8000-8500.
Boop count: ~8500
Boop fact: That fucking cat haunts me in my dreams
0_0:
I realized after I set my pyautogui script running that my computer wouldn't turn off its screen because of the clicking, so there was a strobing blue light in my room all night. This encapsulated my expression while trying to sleep (8500-9000).
Boop count: ~9000
MAX:
After 9000 it displayed 'MAX'. This was cap. (9000-9500 switch).
Boop count: OVER 9000 (9500)
<33:
I miss my wife. 9500-10,000.
Boop count ~10,000
TUM BLR:
THE HOLY GRAIL. The boop-o-meter switched to displaying 'TUM BLR' between 10,000 and 10,500 boops. Because my actual boop count was slightly behind my theoretical, I'd guess that this change happened at 10,000 boops.
Boop count: ~10,500 (likely switched at 10,000)
Summary:
When charted the boop curve looks as follows:
Boop curve: 0 - 10,000 boops
My script continued to run until 53,000 boops, but no further changes were observed. Again, there were quite possibly more messages at lower boop values, but my ass is not checking. Maybe I should have scaled my sampling accordingly, but it is what it is. Thank you for joining me on this journey, and if you have any corrections or more information, please add it to this post.
Boop fact: Terfs DNI
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Have some maxley screen cap sketches bcs tiktok is making these two rot my brain when I have to study for a physics test. Also holy shit drawing in the disney art style is so hard for me, it makes me appreciate disney animators so much, rip. Ok gonna go study now
#maxley#an extremely goofy movie#madley#max goof#bradley uppercrust iii#a goofy movie#max x bradley#disney#enemies to lovers#fanart#digital art
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ೃ❀࿔ sweet surrender ೃ❀࿔
MASTERLIST
synopsis: so…basically you and billie fuck, but like sweetly. ( i don’t feel like writing a proper synopsis)
genre: smut, fluff
pairing: fem!reader x billie eilish
wc: 11.2k….it goes up every post i swear😓
warnings: cussing, soft switch! reader & soft switch! billie, nicknames, fingering (both receiving), cunnilingus/oral (both receiving), scissoring, talk of orgasm/cum, aftercare..i think that’s it lmk if i missed something.
authors note: your weekly bedtime story is here…why this kinda eat hold on🫦, who wanna recreate this with me🤨 (jk jk…unless)
soft light spills into the living room, a warm, flickering glow from candles scattered like secrets in the dark. their flames whisper, gentle and alive, from the coffee table and shelves. the scent of vanilla and sandalwood curls through the air, weaving into billie’s perfume— grounding, familiar, like home found in a person. the tv glows faintly, its screen casting soft shadows as it flickers with old reruns of i love lucy— a memory stitched to your childhood, to moments spent with your grandparents. the grayscale images shift and shimmer, the faint crackle of audio tugging you back, making you feel like you’re sitting in the past.
you’re stretched out on the couch, body languid and unwound, one arm draped over the back of the sofa, cradling your head. your legs sprawl lazily across billie’s lap, the fuzzy fabric of your socks brushing against each other in a slow, absent rhythm. the anklets on your right ankle sway with each movement, their gold bands catching the light like small constellations. her thumb traces soft, looping patterns against your bare thigh, the warmth of her hand seeping into your skin. her touch is unhurried, deliberate, each stroke sending quiet sparks through your nerves, grounding you in this fragile, perfect moment.
billie leans further into the cushions, her black plaid button-up hanging loose over a white undershirt, sleeves rolled carelessly to her elbows. silver chains and dog tags glint faintly against her chest, their edges catching the candlelight. her rings shift and gleam as her fingers move, the brim of her cap tilting forward, shadowing her face. but you see her, clear as day— the way her lips curve into the smallest, softest smile, the kind that speaks of quiet contentment, like she’s found something she didn’t know she needed.
you’re dressed in something equally soft— a low-buttoned teddy brown colored cardigan draped over a spaghetti-strap tank, paired with fluffy shorts that skim your thighs. the contrast between you two is striking: her laid-back edge against your cozy simplicity. but in this moment, it doesn’t matter. this is your space, your sanctuary, and all that fills your mind is how perfect this feels. how the air between you hums, tension so palpable it feels like the room itself is holding its breath.
her gaze shifts, and you feel it before you see it— the weight of her eyes settling on your face, studying you with the same intensity you’d reserved for the tv moments ago. turning your head, your eyes meet hers, and the world narrows. her gaze is deep, blue oceans pooling with something that feels too heavy for words. it’s the same look she gave you the night you met, six months ago, in some dimly lit club in l.a. where the music was too loud and the air was too thick, but none of that mattered.
you remember sitting in the corner, a drink in your hand, your feet aching from dancing too long. and then she walked in— quiet, unassuming, but magnetic in a way that pulled all the air out of the room. her presence was effortless, the way she carried herself a study in contradictions: cool and commanding, yet soft and inviting. you’d noticed her almost immediately, the dark fall of her hair brushing against her cheekbones, the way her eyes swept the room like she was searching for something. and when her gaze landed on you, it was like being found.
she crossed the space between you two with purpose, her voice low and steady as she introduced herself. there was no pretense, no false charm—just something raw and real. her dark hair fell into her face as she leaned closer, her words slipping through the noise like a secret meant only for you. and just like that, the thread between you tightened, drawing you closer without effort or explanation.
what started as late-night conversations and quiet companionship turned into something you couldn’t define but couldn’t let go of. it was soft nights spent in each other’s company, your laughter mingling with the sound of her playlists, the kind of intimacy that feels like breathing. and then, one night, everything changed. it was quiet, like the shift of the tide— a hand brushing too close, a glance lingering too long. and when her lips found the curve of your neck, the world tilted. the air sparked, the room blurred, and all that existed was her. that was the moment it became inevitable. that was the moment it became everything.
now it’s become a regular thing, these quiet nights wrapped in each other’s presence, existing in a rhythm that feels almost too easy. no schedules, no expectations—just the way you both fold into each other, however and whenever you want.
“ricky! you can’t be serious!” lucy’s exasperated voice bursts from the tv, the laugh track bubbling up to fill the room, the sound bouncing off the soft glow of candlelight.
you smirk, turning your head slightly. “are you even trying to watch the show?” your tone is teasing, but there’s nothing sharp in it—just warmth, just the comfort of familiarity.
“why would i want to do that,” she murmurs, her lips curving into the faintest smile, “when my girlfriend is right here?” her fingers squeeze gently against the plush of your thighs, the cool metal of her rings biting against your warmth. the contrast is startling and grounding all at once, like her touch is meant to anchor you here, in this moment.
“you comfy?” she asks, voice softer now, almost like the question is more for her than you.
“wouldn’t be sitting here if i wasn’t.” your fist curls under your head as you shift, propping yourself more comfortably. the action presses your body further into hers, the space between you almost nonexistent now. a soft smile tugs at your lips as your gaze meets hers fully, your eyes locking in a way that feels heavier than it should.
she lets out a low groan, the sound rumbling in her chest and spilling into the quiet. “you’re always talking, huh? why can’t you just say yes like a normal person?”
you shrug, the teasing glint in her eyes pulling a soft chuckle from you. “where’s the fun in that?”
her hand slows, her touch shifting from absentminded to something more deliberate. her fingers slide from the outside of your thigh to the tender skin on the inside, her movements light but intentional. her gaze drops to watch the path her fingers trace, her focus sharp and quiet, like she’s lost in her own thoughts. faint whispers fall from her lips—soft, incoherent murmurs that seem to spill out without her even realizing.
and you’d be lying to yourself if you said her touch didn’t make your breath hitch, didn’t make the air feel just a little heavier.
“huh?” your voice breaks through the haze, low and teasing. “i need you to speak up, my love.”
her hand stills, her thumb pressing just a little harder into your skin, the faint pressure pulling a spark of heat up your spine. she looks up at you, and her gaze is different now—something deeper, heavier, like the weight of an unspoken truth. her thumb resumes its path, slow and deliberate, but her eyes remain on yours, studying you in the dim light.
it feels like she’s memorizing you—every curve, every shift in your expression, every shallow breath you take. and in the quiet hum of the room, you feel it again: that thread pulling tighter, wrapping around you both, binding you closer than words ever could.
“you’re so unfair, you know that?” her voice drops an octave, thick with something unspoken, the sound wrapping around you like velvet.
your eyebrows lift, a subtle quirk that dances between curiosity and teasing. “i am?” your voice is soft, the hint of a smile tugging at the corner of your lips.
her head dips in a slow, deliberate nod, the silver of her chains swaying faintly with the motion, catching the warm glow of the candles. shadows flicker across her face, her expression unreadable but her eyes speaking louder than words.
“how so?” you breathe, your playful smile blooming fully now, your tone light but laced with something deeper, something knowing.
her free hand moves, fingers grazing the side of your knee, the touch light as air yet impossible to ignore. her fingertips trail back down, her movements slow, deliberate, like she’s mapping every inch of your skin. “you sit here,” she murmurs, almost to herself, her words dragging in the air between you, “looking like that… looking at me, like you don’t know exactly what you’re doing.”
her voice sends a spark straight through you, a thread of heat winding itself tight in your chest. a laugh escapes before you can stop it, light and airy, your body jolting with the sound. “what am i doing, baby?” you ask, your voice dipping into something soft, sweet, and maddeningly coy.
her hand lifts, leaving your skin cold in its absence. she drags it up to her face, her palm covering the flush that spreads like wildfire across her cheeks. your voice—the way the nickname falls from your lips, slow and deliberate—undoes her. it’s the low tilt of your eyes, the subtle curve of your lips, the ease with which you say it, like you know exactly what you’re doing to her.
a deep groan escapes her, muffled by her hand, her body sinking further into the couch like she’s trying to hide from the weight of it all. your laugh spills out again, fuller this time, bubbling over as her flustered state only seems to grow.
her eyes cut to you, sharp but soft, like she’s annoyed and enamored all at once. her hand slides down her face slowly, the motion deliberate, landing softly beside her. she exhales, her head tilting back slightly, her cap casting shadows across her flushed face. “you’re impossible,” she mutters, the words carrying no real bite, just the lingering weight of her vulnerability.
and you smile, a warmth spreading through your chest as you take her in—the way she tries to compose herself, the way her gaze softens despite the tension in the air. because in this moment, with the light flickering and the world quiet, it’s just you and her. and that’s all it ever needs to be.
your stomach tightens at the way she looks at you, with longing and desire etched so plainly across her face. her voice curls around her words, low and deliberate, leaving a trail of warmth on your skin. but you hold your composure, tilting your head slightly, letting your cardigan slip further off your shoulder. the exposed skin feels cool against the air, but the weight of her gaze sets it alight. your eyebrows lift, an unspoken challenge lingering between you, as you wait for her answer.
before she can speak, her hands find the underside of your calves, her grip firm yet gentle. you let out a surprised yelp as she pulls you closer in one smooth motion, dragging you across the couch like it’s the most natural thing in the world. your thighs slide against the fabric, your breath hitching as her hands settle there again, warm and commanding. the sudden proximity leaves you breathless—your faces so close you can see everything: the deepening blue of her eyes, their edges dark with lust, the faint constellation of freckles scattered across her skin, like stars glimmering faintly against a quiet sky.
you notice the way her lips part, soft and plush, glistening slightly as her tongue darts out to wet them. she catches her bottom lip between her teeth, tugging it briefly before releasing it, her gaze locked on yours. she exhales sharply through her nose, the sound low and ragged, her breath fanning warmly against your face.
“you’re so pretty,” she whispers, her voice thick with a quiet ache that sends a shiver down your spine. “it’s not fair. you’re driving me out of my mind.”
your lips twitch into a teasing smile, the heat rising to your cheeks impossible to ignore. “yeah?” your voice is soft, a little breathy, but still teasing as your hand moves up to cup her cheek. your thumb brushes gently across her skin, and you keep your eyes locked on hers, unrelenting, daring her to close the distance.
“yeah.” her voice is barely above a breath now, her face tilting ever so slightly as her lips press into yours.
her kiss is slow at first, deliberate, her lips moving against yours like she’s savoring every second, every taste. her hand slides further up your thigh, her grip tightening just enough to send sparks racing along your nerves. the weight of her free hand against your face steadies you, her thumb grazing the edge of your jaw as she pulls you closer, deeper into her.
your hands find their way to the back of her neck, fingers threading through the soft strands of her hair, your thumbs brushing the skin behind her ears. you tug her closer, her groan reverberating through you, a warm, low sound that seems to settle deep in your chest. her hand moves to the small of your back, pulling you into her lap, the shift effortless, like you were always meant to be there.
your legs straddle her hips, your knees digging into the cushions on either side of her as her hands find your waist. her thumbs draw lazy circles there, the light pressure grounding you even as her kiss grows hungrier. her teeth graze your bottom lip, tugging lightly before her lips crash back into yours, leaving you breathless.
your fingers tighten against the nape of her neck, nails dragging lightly against her skin, and she shudders under your touch, a sharp intake of breath escaping her. the sound makes your heart race, the heat between you two building, the world fading into the soft glow of candlelight and the quiet hum of your shared breaths. nothing else exists but her—the weight of her hands, the press of her lips, and the quiet intensity that burns between you, igniting something you can’t name but never want to end.
the taste of her is intoxicating, the faint trace of mint on her lips mingling with something sweeter, deeper—something that pulls you under, leaves you wanting more. every kiss feels like a promise, slow and deliberate, building into something that leaves no room for air, no room for doubt. her hands find the hem of your cardigan, slipping beneath it, the cool press of her rings on your skin like tiny shocks of electricity that ripple through you, making your breath hitch.
her lips part from yours, trailing a path of warmth and want from your cheek to your jawline, each kiss deliberate, unhurried, like she’s memorizing you in pieces. when she reaches your neck, she pauses, breathing you in, the scent of your laundry detergent mixing with the soft trace of vanilla candles and the rich warmth of your body butter. “mm—mama, you smell so good,” she murmurs, her words vibrating against your skin before she presses another kiss there, teeth grazing lightly.
your fingers tangle into the hair at the nape of her neck, nails grazing her scalp, earning a low, drawn-out moan from her. the sound alone makes your stomach flip, heat blooming low in your belly. she bites down, just enough to make your breath stutter, her tongue soothing the sting, but before the bruise has time to settle, you pull back.
her hands are quick, catching you instinctively, clasping behind your back as though to steady you, to keep you close. her brows furrow, the expression subtle but telling, her lips swollen and slick from your kisses. she’s looking at you like you’ve just shattered a moment she wasn’t ready to let go of, confusion pooling in the depths of her blue eyes.
“what’s wrong?” her voice is low, threaded with concern, her chest rising and falling as she struggles to catch her breath.
a grin spreads across your face, slow and teasing, as you bite your bottom lip, suppressing the laugh bubbling up in your chest. “we’re not fucking on this expensive-ass couch, babe,” you say, rolling your eyes playfully, the lilt of your voice light and teasing.
she blinks at you, a beat passing as your words sink in, and then the corners of her lips twitch upward into a grin, crooked and lazy. “seriously?” her tone is laced with amusement now, the sharp edge of desire softened but not gone. “you don’t trust me on your couch?”
you shake your head, the grin still playing on your lips as you make a small sound of disapproval. “not in this outfit, i don’t.” your fingers find the flannel draped over her frame, brushing the fabric lightly as you fluff it out, your touch featherlight and deliberate.
she laughs, a low, throaty sound that rolls through you, her messy brown hair swaying as she leans back slightly, her hands returning to your hips like they belong there. the tension between you shifts, still heavy but now threaded with playfulness, the kind of ease that makes your chest feel lighter. “ you really don’t wanna stay out here?”
“um…no,” you say, letting your gaze flick around the room before meeting hers again, your eyes glinting with mischief. “besides, i’m just saying, if we’re gonna fuck, i’m gonna need more space than this, babe.”
her grin widens, crooked and endearing, her eyes narrowing slightly in disbelief. “are you serious right now?”
“dead serious,” you reply, your voice steady, your expression a mix of challenge and amusement.
“you’re such a diva, you know that?”
“and yet, here you are,” you shoot back, the smirk tugging at your lips impossible to hide.
she groans, loud and dramatic, but the spark in her eyes betrays her excitement. her black hat tilts slightly as she stands, her movements easy and fluid. “lead the way,” she mutters, her voice still low but threaded with anticipation.
you slide off her lap, your hand slipping into hers, fingers lacing together as you tug her to her feet. her grip tightens, grounding you for a moment before you turn, the soft patter of your feet against the floor the only sound as you lead her to your room.
you smile, the energy between you two shifting again, this time in a direction you both have grown to know so well. every step carries the weight of the unspoken tension that’s lingered between you, each echoing softly in the quiet as the anticipation coils tighter. when the door clicks shut behind you, the atmosphere thickens, the air charged, electric. it feels like stepping into a new world—one that belongs only to the two of you.
you turn to face her, letting your eyes rake over her frame, unhurried, deliberate. really looking at her feels like a privilege, like witnessing art up close. billie stands there, her plaid button-up shifted slightly askew, the white crop top beneath clinging to her in all the right ways. the silver chains around her neck glint softly in the low light, catching your attention like they’re daring you to touch them. her rings shimmer as she flexes her fingers, the subtle movement making you want to trace their paths over her skin. she stalks closer, slow and measured, the faintest smile curving her lips, but her eyes give her away—darkened with desire, the hunger in them mirroring your own.
you toss your head back with a groan, overwhelmed by the way she looks at you, by how effortlessly she owns the moment. “oh my god, you’re so fine. like, what the actual fuck,” you whisper, half to yourself, the words tumbling out before you can stop them.
billie’s lips part as though to respond, but you don’t give her the chance. instead, you close the distance, your lips colliding with hers in a kiss that’s urgent, desperate, all-consuming. her hands find your waist almost immediately, the heat of her touch burning through the fabric of your cardigan as her fingers trace the outline of your frame with a reverence that makes your knees weak.
your own hands slide up her chest, palms pressing against the cool press of her chains, the metal a stark contrast to the warmth of her skin. your fingers reach the buttons of her shirt, and you work them loose one by one, savoring the soft hitch of her breath with each undone clasp. her lips never leave yours, the kiss deepening with every second, every layer of fabric removed between you adding fuel to the fire.
when the last button falls free, her shirt slips open, revealing the soft curves of her stomach beneath the hem of her crop top. your fingers ghost over her skin, tracing the faint lines of muscle, dipping lower to the curve of her belly. your touch brushes against the delicate silver of her belly piercing, the small charm swaying lightly, catching the light. the sight of it, the subtle movement, makes your breath catch.
billie lets out a soft moan, the sound rippling through you like a wave, her body trembling beneath your hands. your nails scrape lightly against her skin, just enough to make her gasp, the sharp intake of air like music to your ears.
your hands move upwards, palms grazing the curve of her chest before sliding even higher, finding their place on her shoulders. your thumbs brush back and forth over her exposed collarbones, the motion slow, deliberate. her breath hitches, her lips parting as her head tilts back slightly, giving you an unobstructed view of her face. the way her brows knit together, the flush spreading across her cheeks, the faint sheen of sweat gathering at her temple—it’s all so breathtaking, so unguarded.
you can feel her body reacting to every touch, her soft moans and sharp gasps filling the space between you, grounding you in this moment. her hands find your hips again, her fingers digging into your sides just enough to leave you craving more, her touch equal parts grounding and electrifying.
your hands wander down her back, tracing the planes of her body, mapping her with a devotion that feels almost sacred. every dip, every curve, every inch of her feels like it’s yours to discover all over again. her skin trembles beneath your touch, her reactions beautiful and raw, each sound she makes wrapping around you like a melody, pulling you deeper.
you marvel at her—at the way her body responds to yours, at the way her moans become softer, more desperate as your fingers glide lower again. there’s something intoxicating about the way she melts into you, like you’re the only thing that matters, the only thing tethering her to this moment.
but billie being billie, she’s always so impatient. “oh my god—” she breathes, her voice trembling as her hand slides up to cradle the side of your neck, pulling you into another searing kiss. it’s hurried, electric, but beneath the urgency lies something deeper, something tender. her lips press against yours like she’s afraid you might slip through her fingers, and for a moment, nothing else exists but the heat between you.
her hands find your waist, fingers curling around the fabric of your cardigan as she moves, never breaking the kiss. step by step, she guides you back until the edge of the bed presses against the backs of your legs, sending you tumbling softly onto the mattress. billie follows instantly, her body hovering over yours, the weight of her pressing you gently into the bed as her lips trail back down to your neck.
she takes her time, scattering a mix of hickeys and featherlight kisses along your skin. her lips drag over the curve of your throat, her breath hot and uneven as her teeth graze you ever so slightly, each nip leaving a trail of heat in its wake. her hands are everywhere and nowhere at once, fidgeting with the buttons of your sweater. but her frustration mounts quickly as the fabric refuses to cooperate, her movements becoming more frantic with every passing second.
“fucking hell—” she mutters, voice low and husky, her breath hitching as she sits up slightly, straddling your hips. her knees press into the mattress on either side of you, grounding herself as her fingers tug impatiently at the stubborn clasps.
“what?” you ask, propping yourself up on your elbows to see what’s wrong, your own breath catching at the sight of her disheveled hair and flushed cheeks.
“these damn buttons, babe. why did you decide to wear a sweater?” she grumbles, her lips pressing into a thin line as her fingers fumble. the frustration is written all over her face, but there’s a fire in her eyes, a hunger that makes you ache in the best way.
you bite back a laugh, your heart swelling at how adorably flustered she looks. “hey, be gentle. this is my favorite cardigan, okay?”
her hands pause for just a moment, her gaze flickering up to meet yours, lips parting as if to argue. but then she groans, a soft, almost desperate sound escaping her. “i don’t care. i’ll buy you another one—just take it off,” she whines, her voice trailing off, heavy with need.
her yearning is palpable now, written in the tension of her shoulders, in the way her fingers twitch against the fabric, in the way she looks at you—like she’s starving, like you’re the only thing that could ever satisfy her. but there’s something more behind her frustration, a depth to her longing that catches you off guard. it’s not just about the physical connection; it’s about being completely, utterly yours in a way that words could never fully express.
you take her hands gently, stilling their restless movements as you guide them away from the buttons. “relax, babe,” you whisper, your voice soft but teasing as you take matters into your own hands. your fingers make quick work of the buttons, sliding them free one by one with practiced ease.
billie watches intently, her gaze flickering between your hands and your face, her breathing shallow as the sweater falls open, the fabric slipping from your shoulders to reveal the fitted spaghetti-strap tank beneath. the hem of the top has ridden up slightly, exposing a sliver of your stomach and the tiny diamond piercing that glints in the low light. her eyes darken as they trail upward, lingering on the curve of your breasts peeking over the neckline.
“see?” you murmur, your voice soft and playful as your eyes meet hers. “you just have to be gentle sometimes.” a small, knowing smile tugs at your lips, and for a moment, all the tension eases, replaced by something sweeter, something that feels like an unspoken promise.
billie swallows hard, her lips parting as if to respond, but the words don’t come. instead, her hands move back to your waist, her touch gentler this time, almost reverent as her thumbs trace slow circles against your skin. her chest rises and falls with shallow breaths, her gaze fixed on you like you’re the most captivating thing she’s ever seen.
“i guess,” she mumbles, her voice barely above a whisper before grabbing you once more, pulling you into another kiss. it’s softer this time, slower, but no less intense. your fingers thread through her hair, the strands silky against your fingertips as you accidentally knock the baseball cap from her head. it falls behind you, landing on the comforter with a soft thud.
without breaking the kiss, you reach back blindly, your hand swatting around until your fingers brush against the cap. grasping it, you pull it forward and carefully place it on your own head, twisting the brim backward in one fluid motion. it’s a small gesture, playful and unassuming, but the effect it has on billie is immediate.
her breath catches, a sharp inhale that seems to echo in the quiet room. her hands tighten on your waist, gripping you as though the sight of you in her hat has stolen whatever composure she had left. her lips part, her pupils dark and blown wide with desire as she stares at you like you’ve just set her entire world on fire.
“you… fuck,” she breathes, the words spilling from her lips in a low, shaky exhale. her voice is thick, raw, dripping with something primal, something almost desperate.
you don’t miss the way her hips press into yours, the way her entire body reacts to the simple act of you claiming her cap like it’s yours now. it’s intoxicating, the rush of power and intimacy swirling between you like a storm neither of you can control.
her hands are on you again, roaming your body with renewed urgency as she tugs at your cardigan, sliding it off your shoulders with a rough but measured pull. your undershirt follows shortly after, the fabric soft as it glides over your skin, leaving you in just your bra.
your own hands are anything but idle, sliding beneath the hem of her black-and-white flannel. your nails skim her skin, drawing goosebumps in their wake as you work the shirt off her arms. the flannel slips to the floor in a quiet heap, followed by the white crop top she’s been wearing. the cotton clings briefly before you pull it over her head, her chains catching the light as they fall back into place, swaying gently against her chest.
the air is thick with the weight of the moment as you both stand there, stripped down to bras and pants. the silver of her chains glints with every rise and fall of her chest, her breathing heavy and uneven. the cool metal contrasts sharply against the flushed heat of her skin, a juxtaposition that feels almost poetic.
her hands slide down to your thighs, her palms warm as they press into your skin, urging them apart. her body fits perfectly between them as she lowers herself, her lips returning to your chest. she trails kisses over your collarbone, her mouth soft and deliberate as she works her way downward.
her fingers glide up your torso, slow and steady, until they find the clasp of your bra. with practiced ease, she slides the hooks free, the tension releasing as the straps slip loose around your shoulders. she hooks her index finger beneath the center of the fabric, the touch deliberate and teasing as her lips venture lower, kissing a steady path toward your navel.
your breath hitches as you feel the cool metal of the ring on her finger. it drags down your sternum in a maddeningly slow motion, the chill of it sharp against the warmth of your skin. she pulls the bra along with it, the fabric slipping away to leave you completely exposed.
billie’s lips don’t stop, their pace shifting between urgent and languid as if she’s memorizing every inch of you, leaving no part of you untouched. her hands follow the curve of your body, reverent and hungry all at once, like she’s trying to make up for every second she’s ever spent without you.
“you think it’s cute to play with me like that?” she asks, her voice low and teasing, though the hunger in her tone is unmistakable, wrapping around you like smoke.
you don’t answer right away. instead, you reach down, fingers grazing the cool metal of her chains, the links warm from the heat of her skin. they clink softly as your touch trails lower, over the faint sheen of sweat glistening on her chest, down to the subtle rise and fall of her abs. her muscles tense beneath your fingertips, and you deliberately let your nails drag lightly, just enough to leave a tingling path in their wake.
“i think you love it,” you whisper, your voice soft yet edged with challenge, your lips curling into the faintest smirk as you look up at her.
she doesn’t dignify the statement with words; her response is instant and all-consuming. her lips crash against yours, stealing the breath from your lungs in a kiss so searing it sets every nerve in your body alight. her hands grip your hips with a desperation that makes you dizzy, pulling you into her as if she can’t get close enough. the weight of her body presses against you, grounding you, tethering you to this moment as your fingers slide up into her hair. the strands are soft against your skin, and you give a gentle tug, earning a throaty groan that vibrates against your lips.
“fuck,” she breathes when she finally pulls back, just enough to look at you. her chest heaves as she takes you in—the way your bare chest glows in the soft light, the hat perched on your head backward, your lips kiss-swollen and parted. her blue eyes burn as they trace over you, drinking in every detail like she’s trying to commit it to memory. “you’re so perfect,” she murmurs, her voice raw, almost reverent. “you don’t even know.”
her lips find your neck again, moving with purpose. she lingers at your pulse point, where her teeth graze your skin just hard enough to make you gasp. the sting is fleeting, soothed almost immediately by the warmth of her tongue, and the combination sends a shiver down your spine. your back arches involuntarily, pressing you closer to her as a soft, unbidden moan escapes your lips.
her hands explore you with a sense of ownership, gliding over your body as if she’s mapping you out, committing every curve, every reaction, to memory. her touch is deliberate, possessive yet achingly tender, like she’s determined to make you hers in every possible way.
when her lips descend lower, trailing a line of heated kisses down your neck and over your collarbone, your breath catches. the anticipation is electric, each kiss leaving a spark in its wake until she reaches your chest. she pauses there, her movements slowing as her eyes flick up to meet yours. for a moment, the world stills. the vulnerability in her gaze is raw and unguarded, a quiet question unspoken between you, and your heart stutters in response.
slowly, she leans down, pressing featherlight kisses along the curve of your breast. her lips are soft but purposeful, the contrast making your body hum. when she finally takes your left nipple into her mouth, the warmth of her tongue against your skin sends a sharp jolt of pleasure through you. your gasp is sharp, filling the room, and you feel her smile against you.
her hands knead your thighs as her mouth continues its deliberate exploration, the cool metal of her rings biting into your skin in the most delicious way. she takes her time, savoring every reaction, as if each gasp and whimper from you feeds something deep inside her. every touch, every kiss feels like a promise—silent but unbreakable, binding the two of you together in a way that words never could.
“billie,” you whisper, your voice trembling with need, your left hand pressing against the bed behind you, propping yourself up as your right grips the back of her head, guiding her where you want her.
she hums against your skin, the vibration seeping deep into your bones, a shiver running down your spine like a whisper of fire. “say it again,” she murmurs, her voice dark, smooth, commanding, drawing out every syllable as if it’s a secret just for you.
“mm—billie, baby,” you repeat, louder now, desperate, the words tumbling from your lips like a prayer, and it’s enough to drive her further, spurring her on. her lips continue their slow, relentless descent, teeth grazing, biting in all the right places, leaving marks that will linger into tomorrow. she revels in the thought of you carrying her with you, a part of her left behind even when she isn’t there.
by the time she reaches the apex of your thighs, your body is trembling, every inch of you electrified, breaths coming in short, shallow gasps. billie pauses, her lips brushing against the soft skin just below your hip bone, and you feel the tender press of her breath, her hands gently coaxing your legs wider. she looks up at you, and the sight of you—skin flushed, chest heaving, her cap still perched on your head—makes something fierce stir in her. her voice is low, rough, as she speaks, the words laced with a hunger that matches your own. “sweetheart, you’re everything i’ve ever wanted.”
you’re too far gone to respond, but the way your fingers tighten in her hair, tugging just enough, says everything she needs to hear. her hands knead the inside of your thighs, her touch light, teasing, before she slides your shorts and underwear down in one smooth motion, discarding them carelessly. a sharp gasp slips from you as the cool air brushes against your skin, the dampness of your pussy already betraying your need.
her middle finger hovers over your slit, teasing you just enough, before she presses a kiss just above where you ache for her. the soft, teasing pressure pulls a frustrated whimper from your lips, and billie smirks against your skin, her own desire too fierce to be denied for long. without warning, she gives you exactly what you’ve been begging for.
her lips press against your clit, light, teasing kisses that send shivers through you. then, her tongue darts out, slipping between your folds with a slow, deliberate motion, tasting you. the sensation causes your back to arch, a soft cry escaping your lips as her hands slide down your right leg, propping it over her shoulder, opening you up further. the taste of you, mixed with the soft jangle of your anklets brushing against her ear, makes her moan, the vibrations sinking into your pussy, intensifying the pleasure.
her mouth moves with a rhythm so perfect it feels like she’s made for this, her lips and tongue working together in a dance that makes every nerve in your body hum. your hand drifts down to the side of her face, fingers brushing against her cheek as you tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. she lays her head on the inside of your thigh, leaving one last lingering kiss on your clit before her fingers take their place. her middle finger teases your entrance, slick with your essence, and she spreads it gently through your folds, rubbing you with a slow, sensual rhythm.
the room fills with the sound of your soft cries and her low groans, the air thick with the need building between you. her hands grip your hips, holding you in place as you writhe beneath her, your body trembling with the overwhelming sensation. “my girl’s so pretty…” she murmurs, her voice dripping with lust. “gonna cum for me, mama?”
you nod, the wordless answer spilling from you as you can barely form coherent sentences. “yea—‘m gonna cum—fuck…”
“yeah?” she teases, her voice thick with pleasure, as she removes her fingers from you, making you whine in frustration. but she’s quick, taking her middle and index fingers—both slick with you—and tapping them lightly against your clit before thrusting them inside. your eyes roll back, the sensation overwhelming, and you shut them tightly as a moan rips from your throat. the cold metal of her rings against your skin, the sight of her inked angels curling around her fingers, is enough to make you gush, your body trembling beneath her touch.
“uht uht gotta look at me, baby.” her words are hot against your thigh as she pumps her fingers inside you, your cum dripping down onto her digits. you struggle to open your eyes, the pleasure so intense it makes it hard to focus, but when you do, you meet her gaze—her blue eyes darkened with lust, locked on yours through the fluttering of her thick lashes, her stare searing into you with an intensity that makes everything else fade away.
your hands reach to the back of her neck, fingers trembling as you try to pull her face back to your cunt, guiding her with the desperate urgency building in your chest. billie doesn’t hesitate, her fingers curling inside you, flexing in a ‘come here’ motion, and the sensation makes you moan once more, a string of curse words tumbling from your lips, breathless and broken.
without missing a beat, she places her mouth back on you, her tongue lapping at your juices in long, slow strokes, her fingers moving in tandem, creating a rhythm so perfect it threatens to unravel you completely. each movement sends waves of pleasure crashing through you, the euphoric feeling almost too much to bear. your hands scramble for something to hold onto, your fingers desperately clawing at her skin as you start to break, your body trembling under her touch.
your release comes like a tidal wave, crashing over you with such intensity it leaves you gasping, your body shaking as billie fucks you through it, her steady pace never faltering. “my sweet girl, doing so good for me,” she murmurs, her voice low and possessive as her mouth pulls away from you. you watch, breathless, as the taste of you drips from her chin, glistening in the dim light like a mark of ownership.
but she doesn’t stop, not until you’re completely done. her fingers remain inside you, caressing you softly through the lingering tremors, her touch almost reverent as you come down from your high. through hazy eyes, you watch her lift her fingers to her lips, her tongue darting out to taste you, her eyes fluttering closed as she moans softly at the sensation, savoring the taste of you like it’s the most exquisite thing she’s ever experienced.
billie watches you as you slowly return to yourself, your body still trembling lightly, chest heaving with each shallow breath. the sight of you—flushed, glistening with sweat, her hat still perched on your head, tilted just enough to give you an air of control—makes her heart race in her chest. she swears she could combust from the sheer magnetism of you, the power in your presence, the way you hold her with just a glance.
you catch your breath, a lazy smile curling on your lips as you gaze down at her, fingers trailing lightly over the smoothness of her neck before you grasp the chains, tugging her up until your faces are barely inches apart. “your turn,” you murmur, your voice low, thick with desire. the words send a shock straight through her, and she swallows hard, nodding with a hunger that matches your own as you push her back onto the bed.
billie’s breath hitches as you straddle her hips, her hands instinctively finding purchase on your thighs, gripping them with a tenderness laced with urgency. the weight of you on top of her, combined with the dark intensity in your eyes, ignites something deep within her, setting her whole body on fire. you lean down, your gold necklace glinting between you, and let your lips trail along her jaw, kissing her in a slow, teasing rhythm that makes her shiver beneath you.
“keep the hat on,” she breathes, her voice trembling, breaking slightly as anticipation clouds her every word. “please.”
you smirk against her skin, the corners of your lips curling with a mixture of mischief and adoration. your fingers graze over the silver chains around her neck, following their curve before sliding lower. her bra clings to her, damp with sweat, and you take your time peeling it off, savoring each moment, each inch of skin exposed to you. her breasts, her toned stomach, the glint of her belly piercing, all draw you in. billie groans when your nails trace lightly over her nipples, a shudder running through her before your hands travel lower, gliding over her abs, the sensation making her grip your thighs tighter.
“you’re so beautiful,” you murmur, voice thick with awe, your fingers brushing delicately over the piercing. you dip your head, placing a kiss right above it, before trailing your lips back up her chest. billie lets out a soft curse when your mouth finds her skin, kissing and nipping along her collarbone, your lips moving with reverence as your hands roam across her body.
the rings on her fingers clink softly as she grips the sheets beneath her, trying to stay grounded, but it’s impossible when your nails graze her chest, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake, or when the ink on your skin brushes against hers, creating an electric contrast to the softness of your lips. her head tilts back, a low moan escaping her, your name falling from her lips like a whispered prayer as you continue to worship her, exploring every inch of her with maddening focus, leaving no part of her untouched.
and then you lean back slightly, hands settling on the waistband of her jeans, your gaze locking with hers in a silent question. billie nods quickly, lifting her hips to help you slide them down. the sight of her—bare, vulnerable, completely at your mercy—makes your heart race in anticipation.
your fingers trace the contours of her tattoos as you kiss your way down her body, moving with purpose, savoring every sound she makes, every tremble of her muscles beneath your touch. your nails brush lightly over the dragon inked into her skin, a sensation that sends a shiver through her, while your tongue lingers on the cursive “hit me hard & soft” tattoo, tasting her, each movement slow and deliberate.
when your lips finally reach her most sensitive spot, billie’s back arches off the bed, a low groan escaping her as her hands fly to grip your hair. her movements falter when she sees you—hat still perched confidently on your head—looking up at her like this, all control and hunger in your eyes.
“jesus christ,” she groans, her voice breaking, the words barely coherent. “you’re gonna kill me.”
the sound of her surrender only spurs you on. you let your nails trail lightly up and down her thighs, teasing her, your touch languid and calculated. with a satisfied smile, you pull back, a thin string of her slickness attaching itself to your lips. billie watches, her eyes hazy but still alert, brows furrowed slightly in confusion. you shake your head gently, crawling back to her, your lips capturing hers in a kiss, letting her taste herself on your tongue.
a moan slips from her as she savors the moment, her hands pulling you closer. you shift your position, straddling her, grinding your body against hers as you break the kiss to adjust the cap on your head, the motion subtle but commanding.
a small, playful smile spreads across your face, a light laugh escaping you as you take her in, her face glistening with your essence. her eyes, clouded with desire, wander over you as you hover above her, your lips bending down to nibble and lick at the skin of her neck. your bodies align, a slow and deliberate grind causing a wet, audible sound as your slickness meets hers, the sensation of your clits kissing sending electric shocks through both of you.
billie’s hands leave the sheets, finding purchase on your body, one hand cradling the back of your neck, the other skimming the curve of your back as you move against her, slow and deliberate, savoring the intimacy of each motion. each shift sends a jolt of electricity through both of you, the friction of your bodies igniting a deeper craving with every passing second.
the pressure builds, subtle but undeniable, as your clits brush against one another. the sensation is intoxicating, the heat of her body against yours becoming a drug you can’t get enough of. her fingers slip into your hair, gripping the roots, tugging gently to pull you from the sensitive spot on her neck, forcing your gaze to meet hers.
you whine softly, your eyes fluttering closed as you try to focus, the sensation of her pussy against yours overwhelming you. the feeling of her so close, so perfect against you, makes you ache, your body begging for more, even as you’re already on the edge of losing control.
“i need you to look at me,” billie breathes, her voice a soft plea, but you’re too consumed by the rush of sensation to fully register her words. your body is a storm of fire and need, and it’s all you can do to hold on.
she tugs your hair again, harder this time, and the sharp pull makes your eyes snap open, catching the intensity in her gaze.
“there she is,” she murmurs, her voice low and husky, “need my pretty baby to look at me, okay?” the words break through the haze of pleasure, and you nod, your breath coming in short gasps, teetering on the edge of your release.
“oh… billie…” your voice trails off into a soft whimper, your body trembling under the weight of it all.
“i know, mama, come on. cum for me sweet girl” she coos, her hands moving with purpose now, one finding the side of your throat, the other gripping your hips, guiding your movements with steady pressure. the cool metal of her rings presses against your skin, a sharp contrast to the heat flooding your body. her tatted hand caresses your neck, her thumb gliding along your jugular, a rhythm that mirrors the frantic beat of your pulse, squeezing lightly every so often, grounding you in the moment, urging you closer to the edge.
both of your moans grow louder, more desperate, the sound thick with need and the pull of release. your movements are rhythmic, steady, as you bring her closer and closer to the edge, her rings catching the dim, sultry light with each twist of her wrists.
and when she finally falls apart, her body goes rigid, every muscle tense, before she lets out a long, drawn-out cry, her release crashing over her in waves. you don’t stop. your hips rock back and forth, chasing your own high, each thrust a mix of need and pleasure, the sensation of overstimulating her clit pushing you further. her name spills from your lips like a prayer, each syllable a whisper of devotion, and you feel yourself unravel, your own release flooding over her, warm and consuming.
when billie finally collapses back against the pillows, her body trembling beneath you, she pulls you with her, your weight sinking into her as her chest rises and falls in uneven breaths. her hair sticks to her damp forehead, but the dazed expression in her eyes quickly melts into one of pure adoration. the softness in her gaze is all-consuming, making you feel like you’re both in this space where time has stopped.
you sigh, your chest still heaving as you bury your face into the crook of her neck, the cap brushing gently against her jaw. her fingers find their way to your back, scratching lightly, grounding you as you try to catch your breath. your fingers trace shapes over her collarbone, the coolness of the chains brushing against your fingertips, dragging them back and forth.
her touch sends a tremor through you, and as she turns her head to press a soft kiss to your forehead, you feel anchored, her love a steady force that calms you. she holds you close, and for a moment, everything else fades.
you smile softly, brushing a strand of damp hair from her face, the motion tender. “you okay?” you murmur, your voice gentle as your fingers trail down her cheek, the warmth of her skin grounding you.
you roll yourself over, your body shifting to settle against hers, your chin resting on her chest. the soft rhythm of her heartbeat lulls you, a soothing pulse against your skin. your fingers graze the sides of her neck, the touch absentminded but intimate, each stroke of your nails a quiet reassurance, offering comfort in the stillness.
she nods, a lazy smile tugging at her lips, her hair tousled, sticking up in places, a wild mess of strands framing her face. her blue eyes are still hazy, but they sparkle with adoration, that soft, tender look that makes your chest ache. “more than okay,” she whispers, her voice a quiet murmur, as though she’s still lost in the moment. “you?”
“never better,” you reply, your voice low and warm, bringing her down for a gentle kiss, your movements slower now, more deliberate. your hands cup the sides of her face, your thumb brushing gently over her lips as you try to erase the remnants of the passion you shared, as if it could all be wiped away with the lightest of touches.
a hearty chuckle bubbles up from her throat, the sound rich and warm, filling the space between you. the vibrations of her laughter send a current of heat through your body, and you fight your own smile, not quite managing to keep it at bay. “stop laughing at me,” you say, your voice a teasing whisper, though it holds no true reprimand. “you’re so pretty…” you trail off, your thumbs now wandering over the delicate curves of her face, brushing over her smooth skin, memorizing every inch of her softness. her eyes follow your movements, wide and full of affection.
“oh, is that why you were screaming like that?” she teases, her voice playful, a smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. your smile falters, and you stare at her, blinking, trying to process her words. the playful shift catches you off guard, and in an instant, you quickly remove your hands from her face, sitting up sharply.
“okay, cause see, now you ruined the moment,” you grumble, but there’s no true bite to it. you can’t suppress the giggle that rises in your chest as she laughs. her arms wrap around your waist, pulling you back toward her, her fingers locking behind you, caging you in, and you instinctively grab onto her biceps, the muscles flexing slightly under your touch. you steady yourself, feeling the solid warmth of her, the strength beneath the softness.
“you were all like, ‘oh billie, please—fuck me.’ ” she fake moans, her voice high and exaggerated. your eyes roll back, and you can’t help but laugh at her poor attempt to mimic you, the mockery both endearing and ridiculous.
“oh, shut up! i was not. besides, don’t act like you weren’t worse. as if you weren’t loving it,” you retort, your tone playful but full of truth. you jab a manicured nail lightly into her chest, the sharp point making her flinch slightly, before you press the flat back of the chains against her sternum, the cool metal a contrast to the warmth between you.
“i wasn’t, it was mid. i’d rate it a 7.5,” she says, her shoulders lifting in a lazy shrug, a teasing smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. the glint in her eyes tells you she’s just playing, enjoying the way your attention sharpens on her every word.
your eyes widen in exaggerated shock, and you lift the cap off your head, fingers brushing against the brim that’s now facing backward. you point to your hair, the strands sticking up in all directions, messy and unkempt. “so who did all of this? hm? baby, tell me?” you tease, your voice soft but full of challenge.
she licks her lips, the slow motion of it drawing your gaze, and her eyes flutter closed briefly as she takes in the way the nickname rolls so easily from your tongue. “i don’t know, but it definitely wasn’t me,” she says with a playful tilt of her head.
“it wasn’t you? okay, bet.” you place the cap next to you, feeling a small sense of humor bubble up. leaning down, your body hovers halfway over hers, your arms stretching out to the side to grab whatever article of clothing you can find. you return with her plaid button-up in hand, the fabric soft in your fingers as you shrug it on, its warm scent wrapping around you like a reminder of her.
“what are you doing?” she asks, eyes following your every move, her fingers instinctively tightening around your waist. it’s a subtle sign, but one that doesn’t escape you—she doesn’t want you to leave.
“i’m taking my 7.5 ass somewhere else,” you say with a grin, your voice light but purposeful. you reach behind you, trying to unlock her hands, but she holds tight, not giving an inch. “…girl… the fuck—let go of me, you heathen.” you tug once more, and with a small sigh, she releases her grip, though you can feel the reluctance in the gesture.
billie groans dramatically, flopping back against the pillows with a hand draped over her face, hiding from you as if the drama of it all could somehow shield her. you laugh, grabbing the cap and tossing it playfully at her, the hat landing perfectly on her face, obscuring her vision of you. with a last glance, you rise to your feet, your body lingering in the moment, letting the warmth between you both settle before you finally make your way to the door.
she sighs contentedly as she removes the hat from her face, knocking it lightly to the side before pulling your comforter around her. the soft, plush fabric wraps her up like a cocoon, the weight of it a comforting embrace. her head sinks into the fluffy pillows, a soft sigh escaping her lips as she reaches out, grabbing the remote on your dresser. with a quick click, the tv flickers to life, a random cartoon playing softly in the background.
time passes slowly, the quiet moments stretching on, and soon enough, she realizes you still haven’t returned. “babe!” she calls out, but there’s no reply. she calls your name again, louder this time, her voice cutting through the stillness of the room as she waits for you to respond.
“no, billie! leave me alone,” you drag your words, the irritation clear but fake, she can tell. a grin plays at the corners of her lips.
“hurry uuuup,” she mutters, her voice muffled by the pillows as she rolls over onto her stomach, pressing her face into the softness. the fabric feels cool and feathery against her skin, and she closes her eyes, letting herself drift for a moment.
she senses you walking back into the room before she hears the jangle of your anklets, the soft sound alerting her to your presence. the quiet clattering of objects against your nightstand follows, the rhythm familiar, like a soft heartbeat in the background. she hears you move toward the bathroom, the water running as you clean yourself off, and then the sound of drawers opening.
after a moment, you walk over to your dresser, the creak of the wood under your fingers as you grab a fresh pair of underwear and bottoms for yourself. she can hear the rustle of fabric as you grab the same for her, along with a black wife-beater tee she had left over a while ago, the soft cotton now carrying your scent, familiar and comforting. it makes her smile softly to herself, the mundane moments with you somehow making everything feel right.
shuffling over to the bed, your hand traces the curve of billie’s back, fingertips brushing against the inked lines etched into her skin, the swirls of tattoos a story in themselves. your nails leave a faint trail, and the goosebumps that rise on her bare skin are a silent response to your touch. the warmth of the rag in your hand contrasts with the coolness of her skin as you gently lift her face, tilting it just enough so she faces you. the rag meets her face with a light dab, and she sighs softly, the heat from the cloth making her eyelids flutter closed in contentment. you’re careful, gentle, as you wipe away any remnants of the moment that clung to her skin.
when you’re finished, your thumbs move to her cheeks, coaxing her eyes open slowly, her gaze still soft and clouded with affection. they find yours, blinking a few times before she’s fully focused, the warm affection clear in her eyes.
“roll over,” you murmur, voice soft, coaxing, and she responds with a low whine, reluctant but not unwilling.
“billie, move. i need you to roll over,” you say again, your voice taking on a slight edge as your fingers slide from her back to her stomach, gently pressing against her ribs. with a soft grumble, she shifts, her body moving slowly, obediently. you reach for the covers, pulling them down her legs with delicate precision. the fabric slides like silk under your hands, and you move the rag to a new spot, gently wiping any trace of slickness from her skin.
you close her legs softly, your touch lingering for a moment as you toss the rag aside. your hands move to her arms, guiding her to sit up, your fingers brushing over the smoothness of her skin, trailing down her arms like a whispered promise. you hand her the clothes with a soft gesture, the fabric cool to the touch.
billie looks at the clothes for a long moment, her expression thoughtful, before her gaze shifts back to you. you’re already standing, dressing yourself with slow, deliberate movements, and with a sigh, she does the same, pulling the clothes on with the same quiet grace. there’s a calmness in the air, a quiet intimacy shared between you both.
turning around, you move toward your desk, the sound of your footsteps barely audible against the soft hum of the room. you grab her signature blue water bottle and your own, the cool plastic in your hands a brief contrast to the warmth still lingering between you both. a charcuterie board filled with light snacks follows, the delicate arrangement of cheeses, fruit, and crackers a comforting touch. you place them carefully on the nightstand, the soft click of the items settling on the wood the only sound that breaks the silence.
stepping in front of billie, you watch her as she works the tee over her shoulders, the fabric sliding smoothly against her skin. her fingers move to adjust the chains, making sure they lay perfectly over her shirt. she does the same for you, her fingers brushing the sensitive skin of your neck as she tugs at the necklace, positioning it just right over your collarbone. the gentle touch makes your pulse quicken, though she’s unaware of the effect she has on you in this moment.
“thank you,” she whispers, her voice soft and full of affection. she presses a quick, tender kiss to your lips, her fingers slipping between yours, the warmth of her hand settling against yours like it belongs there.
you lean down, grabbing her jug off the sleek nightstand, handing it to her with a soft, knowing smile. “of course. now drink up,” you say, the words light but the meaning behind them deeper than either of you can put into words.
billie raises an eyebrow, a playful glint in her eyes. her lips twitch, pulling into a mischievous smirk. “bossy,” she teases, her voice a soft lilt.
“okay, and?” you challenge, a small grin tugging at your lips as you meet her gaze. the look you give her is enough to make her snicker, the sound light and carefree, filling the space between you. she takes the bottle from your hand, her fingers brushing over yours before she lifts it to her lips.
she drinks slowly, her throat moving in rhythmic swallows. you can’t help but watch, entranced by the sight of her. when she pulls the straw from her lips, she suddenly collapses back onto the bed, dragging you along with her, the movement fluid and easy. your head falls against her chest, the steady beat of her heart like a comforting lullaby. her hand rests against your side, moving slowly up and down, tracing patterns on your skin that send a shiver through your body, just as it did earlier. the intimacy of the moment is overwhelming, soft and warm like the glow of the room around you both.
“aww, you made a little charcuterie. you’re so cute.” she says, her voice softer now, the teasing lightness replaced with something deeper, more affectionate. she looks down at you, her eyes warm with tenderness. you shy away, half-laughing, as she peppers kisses all over your face, each one a little sweeter than the last. “oh my god, billie, why are you like this?” you mutter, half-embarrassed, but the affection in your voice betrays you.
she pulls back, her gaze never leaving yours, filled with nothing short of adoration. you can’t help but notice the way the soft light catches in her eyes, making everything around you feel like it’s fading away. it’s just her and you, in this moment.
you meet her gaze, your heart doing that stupid little flutter thing it always does when she looks at you like this, when she makes you feel like you’re the only thing in the world that matters to her. “because, i love you,” she says softly, the words falling from her lips like they’ve been waiting to be spoken for so long.
a bashful smile weaves itself onto your lips as you bury yourself further into the warmth of your bed, the soft sheets and blankets wrapping around you like a cocoon. “i love you too,” you reply, your voice barely above a whisper, but it holds everything — all the things you’ve never had the words to say.
billie smiles, her expression softening even further as she leans forward, the distance between you vanishing in an instant. her lips press against yours, slow and tender, the kind of kiss that says everything words can’t. it’s a promise, a reassurance, and in that single moment, you both know exactly how much you mean to each other without needing to say another word.
the two of you drift off slowly back into your normal routine, wrapped up in each other, the space between you shrinking with each passing moment. you pick at the snack tray, the small, comforting bites feeling like nothing more than an excuse to keep touching, to keep sharing this quiet space. conversations flow easily, from the silliest of things — the kind of random banter that only you two could share — to deeper thoughts that weave between the cracks of the mundane. there’s a moment when the two of you spill tea about the latest gossip, laughing so hard your sides ache, but even in those lighter moments, there’s something grounding in the way you fit together.
the earlier passion, still lingering like a sweet ache in your bones, gives way to something quieter, more intimate. the heat fades, leaving room for a tenderness that wraps around both of you like a soft blanket. the love you share, now resting in this peaceful space, is just as powerful, but it moves with the calm of a river, flowing beneath the surface, steady and unshakeable.
this, you think, as she holds you close, her breath warm against your skin, the rhythmic pulse of her heartbeat a lullaby in your ear — this is what home feels like.
astrc’s tag list: @zendayasredbottoms @bilsdillldough @billiesrighthand @watercolorskyy ; hit my asks saying “add to taglist” if you want to be on my regular taglist for all billie content!
#billie eilish x reader#billie eilish#billie eilish fanfiction#billie eilish fic#billie eilish gf#billie eilish imagine#billie eilish x fem!reader#billie eilish x you#billie eilish smut#billie eilish x female reader#billie eilish x y/n#billie eilish x black girl#billie eilish x black reader
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#Fic rec#reunification by mrsfrizzle#Boy meets world#Shaun hunter#Screen cap study#Found family vibes that this landfill supports#And such accurate portrayal of a teenager he’s horrible it’s great#Never watched this show so might be ooc but fic is NOICE
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Delivery boy
word count; 717 – f!reader
Akaashi gulped as he reread the order to ensure he wasn’t hallucinating his predicament.
Please send your cutest delivery boy<3
The sushi shop he worked at was family-owned, mainly run by the older family members, whose children went to university and couldn’t help deliver anymore. Thus, they hired him.
And when someone sent this request with their delivery order, the ladies had cooed and assured him he must be exactly what they were looking for. Those ladies loved their sweet, honorary family member.
He, however, wasn’t so sure. He looked at his reflection in a window he passed on his bike, pulling at the collar of his uniform and feeling the clammy edge, suddenly also noticing how the hair that peeked out of his cap clung to his forehead.
Honestly, didn’t feel like the kind of cute boy they wanted. At least not today.
Not when he had rolled out of bed way too late after studying until midnight last night. He broke his shower time record this morning and was incredibly thankful for his uniform including a cap when he had to leave it to dry by itself on the way to work.
Turning onto your street, he shook his head, trying to rid it of irrelevant negative thoughts. He has to deliver it anyway, it’s just a funny request.
It’s fine. It’s fine. It’s fine.
He parked his bike by the curb, taking a look around for anyone who looked like they might want a new bike for free before choosing to put the bike lock on even if he wasn’t staying.
The window on the door greeted him with his reflection once again, and he instinctively adjusted his glasses. Checking the names on the doorbells for the apartment building, he found the right one according to the order instructions and rang it.
It didn’t take long before he could hear two giggling voices from behind the door, making him purse his lips nervously and clutch the bag of food that he pulled from the delivery bag a minute ago.
“Hi! Can I pay by card?” you asked while Akaashi handed over your order. He nodded, going back into the delivery bag to fish out the handheld card machine.
“Did you write cutest boy in town?”
“Shh!” you hushed your friend, who hid behind the other door and just peeked at Akaashi through the little window. “Sorry about that…” you mumbled and held up your credit card, which was decorated with cute stickers.
Akaashi cleared his throat, completely overthinking it and assuming your friend thought you had forgotten to specify since you only got him. “I’m sorry, we currently don’t have any other delivery staff.”
You looked up with wide eyes, startling him. “What? No, you’re plenty cute!” you clarified before planting your face in your hands in defeat. “I mean- don’t worry about it. You’re great.”
Akaashi tried not to smile, finding you beautiful already and even sweeter when you were flustered. Flustered about him nonetheless. “Oh. Thank you.”
You came out of hiding to pay, but quickly lifted your card again. “Wait, is there a student discount?”
Akaashi hummed in thought before nodding, turning the machine’s screen back to himself. “Can I see your student ID?”
He was rolling on his heels while you fumbled for the other card in your pocket, holding it up so he could check. Instead of looking at the date, like he was supposed to, he observed your name and picture, then the school logo in the corner.
“Hm? We go to the same university.”
While he put in the student discount and then held the card reader out again, you said something about hoping you might see him around.
His teeth showed when he smiled, keeping his eyes on where the payment was confirmed because he knew that looking at your pretty face might give him heart palpitations at this point.
There was an added tip as well, so he politely bowed his head before stepping back. “I’ll keep my eye out for you.”
He practically skipped down the steps, back straight as he glanced over his shoulder and just managed to catch you still looking at him through the window on the door before disappearing when he caught you.
Cutest delivery boy in town, huh.
masterlist
#haikyu#haikyuu#haikyu x reader#hq x reader#haikyuu x reader#fanfiction#hq#haikyuu x you#haikyuu fluff#haikyu fluff#akaashi#keiji akaashi#akaashi keiji#akaashi x reader#hq akaashi#haikyuu akaashi#akaashi fluff#akaashi keiji x you#akaashi x you
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mind over matter | s.mg
Pairing: best friend!mingi x reader Genre: [+18] smut w/o plot Warnings: jussss smut, enjoy a/n: first fic on this blog yay
the two things you can be sure in life is that 1. you will die and 2. you've never wanted to suck a dick so bad.
I mean, you always knew that your best friend was hot — you had eyes, for god's sake! — but holy shit.
it started when you ran out of cat food. you were an attentive cat owner, don't get me wrong, but at the same time, you had the worst week for your mental state. exams after exams, studying 'till the library basically had to kick you out and group projects with lazy people... so that's how it ended up with your cat screaming at the top of their lungs and waking you up from your power nap.
mingi happened to be around because, guess what, you also forgot about your plans to watch that new anime that he rambled all about for the past month, and truly, you wanted to be able to enjoy some quality time with him, but you fell asleep as quick as his cursor pressed play on the screen, the warmth that irradiated from both inside his hoodie that you were wearing to where your head laid on his shoulder was too cozy.
so when you got up to feed the cat, your heart dropped, and you saw the grocery list accumulating dust on top of the counter, the 'cat food' underlined three times. you looked outside the windows of your small apartment and saw that the simple drizzle from before now turned into a full on storm, and all you could do was lean onto the counter and bawl your eyes out.
mingi was startled but tried to comfort you somehow, not really sure of what he could do to help, and as you tried to tell him between hiccups and tears, he quickly grabbed his jacket and told you that he would be right back.
twenty minutes later, a full-on drenched mingi stood on the doorstep, chest heaving as he took off his shoes and the same jacket, now in a darker tone from the wetness. you stared back from your couch, as you were curled into the throw blankets, eyes widened.
you almost forgot about the cat food.
in your defense, it should be illegal the way his white tee clung to his abs so sinfully highlighting each of his muscles. and when he rose his arms to take off his cap and ran his fingers between wet strands of hair that framed his cheekbones, your eyes fixated on the way his sweats clung onto dear life to his v-line.
holy fuck. jesus christ. oh my god. whatever divinity that was out there.
"you okay?" he asked, as if he was expecting your answer and you shook your head, trying to escape the trance you found yourself in.
"what? why?"
"i asked if i could use your shower" he placed the single bag with the cat food on the counter as he tried not to wet your floor.
you can use me, for sure; you thought to yourself.
"yeah, yeah, go ahead" you nodded and he took his shirt off on the way to the bathroom.
you quickly jumped from the couch to feed the cat — since that was the prime reason for all the ruckus. as you put the blocks of minced meat on the food bowl, you caught yourself fantasizing about it again.
how good he should be looking, as droplets of rain still lingered on his skin as he took of the sweatpants slowly, leaving only the boxers that perfectly held his firm thighs and secured his—
meow, you looked down, to find that a block of meat fell beside the bowl and you took a deep breath. control yourself.
you blamed the ovulation. or maybe the fact that you haven't been sexually active in a while. or that movie that had hot scenes with your favorite actor... gosh you were a horny mess.
but your life has basically been all about your studies lately, and the stress was clouding your reasoning, making you feel like impulsive decisions were now worth a lot, and that's how you found yourself standing outside your bathroom door, idly looking at it with your hand raised, on the way to give it a knock.
the thing is, the moment you found the courage to do it, the door opened from the inside, and only mingi's torso popped out, in the middle of calling your name, but now confused that you were on the other side.
all that led to the both of you sitting on the edge of your bed, with him only wearing a towel around his hips, not staring at each other as the silence overcame the storm from outside.
"so... you want to suck my dick...?" he simply repeated your words from minutes ago.
it would be comical if it wasn't so tragic.
"yes."
"are you feeling okay?" he asked.
"yes."
"'then... how should we do it?"
you took another sharp breath, your lungs almost failing you as your mind tried to disassociate from your body. leaving the bed to kneel in front of him, you kept your eyes focused on his face, his lips parted as his eyes were half-lidded. from all the years you'd known him, you knew that he was probably overthinking it and trying to figure out what was happening. but neither you could tell.
your fingers slid to the towel and as you were going to take it off, his hand flew to yours, holding it softly. he pulled you towards him in a swift movement and placed his palm on your cheek, nose now brushing against yours. soon after, you felt the plumpness of his lips onto yours.
"wait" he leaned back cautiously, as though any minor movement would startle you like a scared kitten. his eyes overthinking each and every detail. "I want to kiss you first."
and as if you were waiting for that to snap, you grabbed his neck and pulled his face lower so you could slide your tongue into his mouth. his big hands fell to your hips and grabbed firmly, decided not to let you run away.
you kinda wondered before how good of a kisser mingi was, your friends joked around saying that it must be good since he has fat lips, but you usually kept those thoughts at bay, not really wanting to dive into your hidden desires. it wasn't like you, to explore and try new things. you became friends a long time ago, and when he earned that title, you felt like it would be too messy to see him as anything else.
but you weren't dumb, of course you'd noticed how a blush crept to his cheeks whenever you grabbed one of his hoodies, or how he would stutter when others teased him about you. he wasn't good at hiding things, and you weren't good at ignoring them.
one of his hands snuck to your neck and the pulled you closer, his breathing growing heavier to the point that you could hear a faint groan from his throat.
shit, you moaned.
he let go of your face and you leaned back, a little ashamed of the noise that escaped you, but mingi didn't seem to mind, in fact, his cheeks could be mistaken to a tomato. he shifted in his place and you noticed the tent in his pants. oh.
placing a final kiss on his cheek, you maintained eye contact as you lowered yourself to your knees, hands falling to his covered member, feeling the warmth through the towel and earning a sharp gasp from him. licking your lips, you only broke the intense stare to undo the lousy knot, uncovering his lower body.
oh. OH.
how did he hide that monstrous thing all along?
"uh... pants, I guess..." he said almost in a whisper, and then you realized that you were thinking out loud.
"shit, I mean, it's not a bad thing" you placed your hand at the base of his cock, wrapping your palm around it and the boy hissed. "I just... didn't expect that."
"so you thought about it before?" touché. you deflected by giving him a slow tug.
before he could say anything else, you lowered your head and wrapped your lips around him.
"fffuck-" he let out, throwing his head back.
you started bobbing your head at a slower pace, quickening each time he groaned, and listened to his raspy moans as if they were songs hidden in heaven. his hand ran through your hair, pulling at the strands just light enough to make you whine, the vibrations helping into the pleasure.
"please—" he pled, eyes fixated on you and wet hair sticking to his face. he couldn't look any better, you noted.
mingi stared right into your soul with deep, dark eyes. his nose was flaring up and trying to keep up with the sharp breaths that left his parted mouth. it was as if he belonged in that position, and you wished that you had midas touch to keep him like that forever.
"so pretty" you said more to yourself than to him, and one of your fingers snuck into his mouth, and he wrapped those plump lips around it to suck.
feeling his tongue under your skin made shivers run down your spine, and even though you tried to take in more, he pulled you towards him once more, now landing you onto his lap. mind you, his naked lap. your pajama shorts did nothing to the mixture of pre-cum and saliva that rubbed under fabric. you hoped he couldn't feel the wetness that was forming between your legs.
kissing you again, you wondered how your teeth were not clashing at all from the desperation that exuded from both parts. you wanted him as much as he ever had wanted you, and it didn't seem like a real experience. the euphoria that overtook you made you feel almost dizzy from all the exchange in pheromones and fluids, holy fuck, you wanted to stay like that forever.
while he kissed you, mingi's hand went to the bottom of your shorts, holding you so you wouldn't fall as he took them off, leaving you in his hoodie and panties. you didn't remember what kind of underwear you wore, but you hoped to whatever god that was out there that it was something without a hole or anything.
without taking the panties off, he slid them to the side and ran both his middle and ring fingers along your folds, the new feeling making you jump a little, and he giggled. the motherfucker giggled.
"jeez... can't wait to be inside you" he said against your lips, hissing as you gave him an experimental roll of your hips.
holding your panties to the side, he grabbed his cock and aligned himself to your folds, placing the tip inside and a loud whimper fell from your mouth. you knew that it would take more effort to get him inside, he was the biggest you've ever been with, and mingi also seemed to notice that, so he touched you as if you were made of glass.
the warmth of his hot member now sheathing inside your pussy felt like too much, and the room felt foggy, just as your breaths. he kissed the side of your neck, licking up to your ear and groaning ever so slightly, as if he had noticed how much you reacted to those sounds, using them now against you.
the moment you reached the bottom, you felt as if your internal organs would combust. his dick felt like too much and too good, you drank from the sensations and the tingles that your body left each time he moved an inch, clenching around him. you reached your hands to the hem of the hoodie you were wearing, but his hand left your lower back to stop yours.
"leave it on" he looked up at your face with puppy eyes. "I want to fuck you in my clothes."
OH. FUCK.
you moaned into his mouth and slowly started to move your hips. you could've cum just from his words, but you tried your best to concentrate in making him feel good.
"you feel so good around me" he whined, a short moan leaving his lips to meet yours again.
you didn't know how you looked at that moment, probably a mess. from taking in all the sensations, his huge cock and the way he looked like a whiny mess under you... you felt powerful, and he was letting you use him to your wishes.
"please, please" he whined even more, probably taking notes that you got off from that.
"what is it, big boy?" as soon as the words fell from your mouth, you questioned yourself. is this really me?
"let me fuck you right" his hips shot up, taking you by surprise with a gasp and he bit your collarbone. "I wanna be good for you- wanna make you feel good."
"use me however you want" you said in a desperate tone. not even minding how it looked to him, you truly wanted everything from him.
with one arm sneaking around your back and the other on your neck, he moved you further into the bed, now on top of you. he didn't say anything else, only left a small kiss on the corner of your mouth and gave you a slow thrust.
the most high pitched moan fell from your lips, and you didn't care to be embarrassed. not when he was pleading for you, having your body wrapped so deliciously around him, the same as his.
you could write paragraphs and paragraphs about the way he looked; the occasional lightnings shining against his wet skin, highlighting each of his curves and muscles while his hair fell above his forehead, now a mess from the way you rushed your fingers between strands.
mingi kept rolling his hips against yours, and words kept falling randomly from your mouth, meddling with moans and sobs, you felt so cockdrunk that even the slightest stimulation coming from him could make you shed tears. felt so fucking good that got you questioning every life choice you've ever made to this point, as if everything was a part of god's plan for you to end up right under your best friend, as his touches made love to your limbs.
"hm-ugh- feels so fucking- oh my god" you kept going on and on, not even sure yourself what you were saying, but mingi wasn't falling behind.
the knot had already taken place on your lower body, each of his thrusts feeling more intense than the other. you could tell he was getting closer from the way his teeth were nipping on your neck and his thrust were growing sloppier.
"please-ah!-please, let me cum inside you" he left your neck to look at you, and you felt the knot tightening and your legs starting to tremble. "let me fill you nice and full- please"
"yes, I want all of you" you almost screamed when he took that as confirmation to grab your back and glue his chest to yours, sharpening his thrusts.
it finally snapped and you felt like you couldn't breathe anymore. he held you so close as if he could melt into your skin and become one, and with a final thrust, he whined and groaned and screamed and did everything so involuntarily, almost animalistic, and your mind was too dazed to even comprehend anything else besides the way that your pussy gripped him so tight, keeping his hot seed inside you. you didn't want to let it go.
you were still spasming from your orgasm when he let go of your body and snapped your legs apart, taking place in between them, nuzzling his nose onto your pubic bone and feasting. his tongue lapped each of yours and his juices without mind, sucking, kissing, moaning, grunting, only to prolong the way your climax came down; you screamed so hard that your lungs burned.
falling limp on the bed covers, he let go, going back on top of you with the support of his arms and knees, face leveled to yours when he placed an innocent kiss on the tip of your nose and another one to your forehead.
"did it help you de-stress?" he joked and you placed one of your arms onto your eyes.
scoffing, you shook your head. "holy shit, I'm in love with you."
he gave you a slight push and rolled to his side, still staring at you with a darker flush across his chest and neck.
"well, I'm yours" he said and you licked your lips, sneaking a glance from under your arm.
"yeah, you better be."
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can you do a story about how chris and the reader meet at tara’s party but before that, reader accidentally revealed that she found chris cute and the she went viral for it (idk if that makes sense)
SOCIAL MEDIA FRENZY - c. sturniolo
2 days ago..
“chat are we enjoying this haul? don’t flame my style in the comment section.” you warned to your viewers on instagram live before grabbing the next package of clothes off the floor, ready to show your 14k viewers the next batch of items. “next youtube video when?” you read off from a comment.
“this was going to be a youtube haul, but i got lazy so..new video this week!”
your rise as an influencer had to be studied. from a random youtube vlog that you made out of the want to romanticize your life a bit and a rant on tiktok people found funny that gained 2.5 million likes caused you to not only receive near to 3 million subscribers on youtube but almost 1.9 million on tiktok.
this was only in the span of 2 years. growing and working to not only please your new fans but to also have fun for yourself as you still decided to go to college for that degree.
social media was just a hobby for you like a lot of people say. but you truly couldn’t expect the new wave of attention you would revolve for a simple comment you made.
the next item of your haul was a fitted cap that you saw at a pop up shop in your city. you recognized it from somewhere else and decided to buy it since it was also cute.
“guys this cap i actually bought because this youtuber, chris sturniolo also wears it in his videos.” at the mention of the social media star your comments flooded. “guys calm down, im not crazy, he’s just cute okay?” you laughed before setting the cap down then moving to the next piece of clothing.
soon enough you ended the live and went on with your day as normal. filming a bit of your vlog for your new video, answering emails from brands, doing some household chores and of course, settling down in your bed with some snacks for your nightly tiktok scrolling.
as soon as you opened the app you got bombarded with a screen recording of your live with the bit where you said chris was cute. it was all over. even on twitter you began trending for the potential new relationship between you and the social media star.
all you could do is read the comments, some encouraging and some hateful, watch edits of you two being shipped, and quickly text your manager profusely apologizing for the mess you just made.
you groaned while rolling around in your bed. sometimes you just forgot you were too well known to be spewing whatever nonsense came to mind.
which brings us here.
at taras party.
since she was inviting influential people, and her friends, you were a definite invite on her list. and you knew either all of one of the triplets would be there too.
you were nervous to bump into chris. would he even speak to you? and if he did would he be uncomfortable or understanding? well you were about to find out in a moment since he was walking in your general direction.
you mustered up all the courage you could and began to walk towards him. feeling the need to apologize to him since the situation was your fault and it must be annoying for him as well.
you came to a stop as he turned his body to fully face you. your breath hitched for moment taking his appearance all in. his black hoodie and black baggie jeans with his messy hair was a lot to take in in person.
either way you were gonna say what you needed to say. “hey, my names y/n. you might know me. or not thats fine too!” you stumble across your words for a minute before taking a deep breath. you could feel his eyes on you but you remembered hes just a person too.
“you may have seen the plenty of edits and a lot of my supporters in your comment sections or dms, and i just wanted to say im sorry since its been going for three days now and you must be annoyed.” you said it all in one breath and finally met the boys eyes. instead of confusion you were met with a look of amusement.
“oh you’re completely fine. honestly i felt bad for you since you were getting a lot of hate for a simple comment.” chris shrugged while giving you his signature smile. you smiled as well glad that he seemed fine with the recent uproar.
“ive heard worse.” chris said while grimacing at the thought which caused you to laugh nodding in agreement. the night went on with you and chris sticking together for the majority of the party. introducing one another to friends, chris introducing you to nick (your new best friend) and overall having a great time. before you left chris made sure to get your number and texted you to make sure you arrived home safely.
you couldnt help the smile that was spreading on your face as you recall the events of the night. maybe making that comment wasnt so bad after all.
walking towards your room of your apartment, you plopped down onto your bed and decided to make a quick instagram post for the night.
and guess who liked the post?
a/n: i hope yall enjoy this cus i sure did (i was so close to making this into a smut 😭)
#sturniolo triplets#sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo#chris sturniolo#nick sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#sturniolo fluff#matt sturniolo fluff#matt sturniolo x reader#matt x reader#chris sturniolo headcanon#chris sturniolo x black reader#chris sturniolo smut#chris sturniolo x you#chris sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo fluff#tara yummy#matt sturniolo fanfic
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Just thinking about how important it is to Billy that Captain Marvel is the perfect hero.
For one thing, he wears his dad’s face when he fights crime, so he wants to respect him, even in death. Seeing his face in front of a news segment bad mouthing him would make him heartbroken.
And then there’s just Billy’s thoughts on what a hero should be. They should be kind, knowledgeable, selfless, powerful, etc, etc. He wants people to feel hope when they look at Cap. He wants them to feel like everything is going to be okay. He wants to be the hero he never had.
This stays the same even after he joins the League. A part of him thinks he can relax a bit now. He’s been seen by others like him, who say that he is exactly the kind of hero they want on their team. He sees other heroes, like Green Arrow and Flash, and how they feel comfortable joking around and laying back during meetings and monitor duty.
So he loosens up, just a bit. Loosens his shoulders and his smile. Lets other emotions morph onto his face. He feels bad for doing it. It makes Cap less…ideal. But they seem to like it when he talks to them more.
Still, he can’t help but feel like he’s letting everyone down. Like he’s not good enough. Not when he’s Cap, but when he’s Billy. He studies himself whenever he sees Cap on screen, writing in his head, every time he takes a hit a little too much. Every time he isn’t quick enough despite having god-like speed. Every time he makes a mistake. He has to rectify it. He has to.
What will everyone think? If the Champion of Magic can’t be the perfect diplomat, then what good is he?
Meanwhile, the Justice League is repeatedly in awe of their fellow hero. He can rally people together for the common good. Inspire hope. He has the trust of the Big Three, and two of them even call him their brother.
He’s a mediator. Whenever he’s around, he’s able to quell any of the arguments that go on during meetings. He provides a new perspective regarding magic, making the non-magic based heroes understand it more.
He’s like a comic book hero come to life. Always glowing, even in the midst of battle. There’s an aura about him, where you can’t help but put all of your trust in him. He has this big smile that immediately makes them trust him. You can always find him having heart to heart one on ones with just about any hero.
Not to mention, he so dang good with their sidekicks! They actually listen to and respect him, which is already asking for a lot.
They ask him how he does it, and he just says he gets it. Feeling like you’re never good enough. Like you aren’t seen for who you are. Like everything you do is meaningless when people keep ignoring you.
The League is flabbergasted, because how could anyone look at Cap and NOT see the perfect hero?
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