#and it just feels like they wanna get rid of me

[karaeilishh]

reader getting rlly horny when g!p billie is walking around in like some loose shorts and like she can see a dick print

a/n — okay, ik you all waited for it

𝜗𝜚 stress b. eilish. . .

your mouth almost watered, when billie finally came home from filming the interview, tired and a little angry. it was so weird because she didn't say a word to you, just walking into the living room and sitting down on the couch to turn on some show on tv. her shirt had ridden up a bit as she got more comfortable, and now you could clearly see the outline of her cock through her jeans.

it was too hard to look away when that bulge was literally beckoning you to come over to her and relieve all her stress. you bite your lip and slowly walk up to billie. as soon as she notices you, her gaze drops to your cleavage, then slides down your entire body. cheeky.

"rough day, baby?" in one step you are next to her, straddling her hips. you could see her cock getting harder after that. billie swallows hard, feeling like all the words are choked in her throat. you smile, accepting her reaction. your hands go to her belt, unbuckling it slowly as your gaze never leaves hers for a moment. "tell me what upset you today, my love.."

you finally free her cock from the grip of her baggy jeans, pushing them down to her ankles. your hand goes to her clothed length, stroking it softly, feeling her wetness beneath your fingertips. she throws her head back against the couch, sighing through clenched teeth. "i won't continue until you tell me."

you feel the indignation in every movement of her body and the sounds she makes. her hand grabs yours, forcing you to wrap your fingers around the thick cock, already pulsing beneath your grip. you squeeze it slowly, pressing your thumb against the head, making her tremble.

"this.. this girl. she was so disrespectful.." she tries to gather her thoughts, tries to explain why she would let herself come home and not even kiss her girlfriend, but it becomes impossible as you push the fabric of her boxers down, now feeling every vein under your hand. "baby.."

"keep talking" you lean down, wrapping your lips around her head, running your tongue down the length a few times, causing her hand to fall to your hair, trying to push you deeper onto her cock. you pull away, kissing her palm, eliciting the most pathetic whimpers from her lips. "is it really that hard?"

she moans, grabbing your hips, pushing you closer to her cock. her eyes are pleading as she looks at you. "fuck me, angel. i need you so badly." her whispers leave you with no choice but to get rid of your shorts and panties, lowering yourself onto her cock at an agonizingly slow speed.

it was at this point that the game was in her hands.

"i told you to go faster" her grip on your hair became painful as you bounced on her cock with a speed that almost made your legs go numb. your moans mixed together, the sounds of your bodies slapping against each other filled the room.

"i—i can't go faster.." you bury your face in her neck, your tongue drawing strange patterns on her pale skin. she almost growls, one hand grabbing your waist and holding you in place as she begins to raise her hips at an animalistic pace on her own, destroying you both with pleasure. "i wanna see your face while i fuck you"

her hand on your neck, forcing you to look into her lust-filled eyes as her cock filled your pussy so perfectly, like it was made for her.

"fuck, baby.." her dominance ended where the approaching orgasm began. the thrusts became messy and sloppy, her mouth parted, gulping air, eyes rolling back into the back of her head. a divine sight. "please, please, can i—please, i need to cum inside"

your hand falls to her face, your thumb wiping a few drops of sweat from her forehead.

"kiss me"

tags - @chrissv4mp, @hkkuugu, @sweet3nerrr, @krosep, @stonerfromlesbos, @loveyoumatthewbernard, @47lake @ohdoyoustillcry, @bilsdillldough, @n0vabug, @bxllxeb, @hopingforgoodblogs, @mybluebossanova

[loverslantern]

Mirror- Dean Winchester x f! reader oneshot

Description: Reader doesn’t feel pretty so Dean tries to show her what he sees in the way he knows best: praise.

Warnings: It’s hot and heavy in here, inherently sexual but nothing happens, manhandling?, praise

Word count: 2k

Note: This is not only my first time writing something like this but also my first time writing something not related to The Hunter and The Witch series so please leave feedback!

  I catch my reflection on the screen of my laptop and groan. My face looks weird today. It’s just one of those days where I just couldn’t feel…pretty or nice or any other adjective. It shouldn’t matter now when I’m alone in my motel room and researching for the next hunt. There’s no one to impress in the desolate room other than the four beige walls and a creaky bed. 

  It shouldn’t matter. To be fair it shouldn’t matter in general when beauty is an objective concept, and yet it does. I do not know the psychology behind it, maybe it’s a biological thing as animals would choose the mate that’s more appealing or strong to have offspring that can survive. I shake my head, ridding myself of the thought. This would just spiral into a psychological analysis that would only make me think of it further rather than ignore it. 

  It’s an obsessive thing, isn’t it?

  Either way, I don’t like the way I look today. I couldn’t get my hair to look just right this morning and I tried so many up-do’s that my arms got sore. It still didn’t look right, so I left it down. 

  And my face just looks wrong. Maybe my eyes are too big or too small in proportion to the rest of my face. Or, maybe my jawline is too soft, perhaps I’m not rough enough. Perhaps I’m too rough. Somehow, every possible thing feels true. 

  I groan again, leaning my head back against the headboard of the bed, and squeeze my eyes shut as if it will get rid of it all. I’m meant to be focused on research. It was supposed to help. But stupid screens and their stupid reflections.

  The jingle of keys forces my eyes open, my eyes landing on my door as it clicks open. “Hey, sweetheart,” Dean greets, casually inviting himself in. 

  “Hi,” I breathe. I suppose the consequence of giving someone a spare key is that they will use said key. But, I’m not that bad of a thing considering it’s Dean who’s walking in. “I’m gonna head to a bar, you in?”

  “Eh,” I answer. “You go ahead. ‘Not feeling it tonight.”

  He eyes me for a moment, squinting just slightly. “Not even as an excuse to dress up and listen to music?” he pushes. “‘My treat.” Of course, his treat meant a fake card or money he got from hustling. But, god the way he smiles and holds his hands up as he tries to convince me is cuter than it should be. “Sorry, Dean,” I say despite the sight, “Just not feeling it.”

  His shoulders and smile drop, “Come on I’ll buy you as much (favorite drink) as you want.”

  “You can go without me you know?” I point out as he saunters over to the bed and plops himself down. “We both know you’re gonna be leaving with some random girl anyway.” 

  He rolls his eyes as he leans back on his elbows, his black shirt flexing against his muscles. He knows I’m right. “I thought Sam was the nerd,” he comments, ignoring what I said by lifting my laptop off my lap and discarding it in the empty space next to him. “Why don’t you wanna go out? ‘You feeling okay?” he asks and for a moment as his eyes scan my face, I can see the concern pass through them. 

  “Oh, I’m fine,” I insist, trying to be as convincing as possible. Yet, he sees right through me, giving me a pointed look. He’s hard to lie to. I break, shaking my head, “Fine. I just…I don’t feel pretty today so I don’t really wanna go out.”

  His eyebrows raise, his lips parting a bit as if that’s the last thing he expected me to say. “You?”

  My eyebrows furrow, head tilting in confusion, “….Yeah….” Who else?

  He studies my face again and I worry he’ll see what I’m seeing. He’ll see I’m not pretty. His features soften regardless. “Come with me,” he announces, gesturing a hand to follow as he gets up from the bed. I don’t listen, giving him a confused and cautious look. “Come on,” he insists, his voice firm. 

  I hold back my sigh as I stand from the bed. I almost didn’t want to know what he had in store. But, he doesn’t leave me with much choice but to turn back as he takes hold of my hand. His hand is big and warm as it envelopes mine, butterflies erupting in my gut at the simple touch.

  He leads me into the bathroom, his hand leaving mine to travel up my arms and to my shoulders, positioning me in front of the mirror. My hips press against the sink, his hands on my upper arms and his body close behind mine. He nearly looms over me with his tall stature, his head and eyes tilted a little down as he uses the mirror to meet my eyes. “Don’t look at me. Look at yourself,” he directs. But my eyes linger on him, on his pretty green eyes, sharp sculptured jaw, and his straight nose. His fingers tap against the skin of my upper arm, “Come on,” he encourages, his voice a little gravely. 

  I give in. He makes it so easy to give in. I pull my eyes from him and land on myself. A frown pulls on my lips as my eyes jump around my features, even my frown looks wrong. He squeezes my arms, gaining my attention back in the same second my gut lurches. “Uh-uh,” he hums. “Eyes back on you, baby.”

  Jesus. 

  Again, I force my eyes away and I can feel his burning gaze on me. “What do you see?” he asks. I scuff and roll my eyes, “Dean, I’m not—“

  His hands rub up and down my upper arms. “Just—what do you see?”

  I bite on my bottom lip. I look unamused. That’s what I’m seeing. I sigh, trying to humor him. “Myself,” I answer plainly.

  He tuts, “Not what I meant, sweetheart. What do you see that you don’t like?”

  Everything. That seems like an appropriate answer. But I can’t just say that and I don’t. I hardly want to share what I feel when it’s hard to put words to it. “How about this?” he says, his head dipping down to occupy the space by my neck, putting himself closer to my level than far above me. “I like your smile,” he admits, his voice so soft it’s like a rough whisper. “I like when you smile at me…” he squeezes my arms, “like I’m damn important.”

  “You ar—“

  “Uh-uh,” he hums again. “This is about you, baby.” 

  One of his hands drifts upwards, the muscles in his forearm flexing. The sight is nearly intoxicating as I watch it move in the mirror, resting at the base of my neck as he stands to his height again. His thumb brushes back and forth against my collarbone, his eyes downturned to his movements. “Keep watching yourself,” he reminds me. I hadn’t realized I was watching him but could you blame me?

  He presses me back against him, his body solid and warm. I wonder if he can feel the increase in my heart rate. “And your skin…always so smooth. Hardly any scars.” He presses down on the base of my neck, encouraging my head to lean back against his chest. My breath hitches.

  “Shows how careful you are, yeah?” I can almost feel his warm breath as clearly as I can feel my heart beating against my ribs. “You a careful girl?” His gaze is burning as it travels down me. “Yeah…” he drawls, eyes traveling back up. “You are.” His thumb taps once against my collarbone, reminding me to keep my eyes on myself which seems like an impossible feat now. “There you go,” he praises, his voice low. 

My skin feels warm. My everything feels warm as if I am a furnace with the sole purpose of burning and he stokes the fire, poking at it, adding wood to keep it going. 

“Those eyes,” he mumbles, and I can feel the rumble in his chest as the words protrude from his lips. “‘Damn pretty eyes. Then you give me that look…fuck.”

  My eyes flick to his, something burning deep within my gut. He doesn’t scorn me for looking away from myself. “Yeah…” he whispers, eyes meeting mine in the mirror. “That look right there. Eyes all big, your lips parted just a little.” His hand drifts up from my neck, gracing my jaw. His thumb presses on my bottom lip. “So pretty…” he mumbles. “‘Don’t know what you aren’t seeing. Can you look at yourself again baby?” 

  I do as told and my knees feel wobbly with the heat that pools within. It’s the sight of him rather than me. The sight of him practically playing with me. “Want you to know how pretty you are,” he mumbles. “How good you are. God, you’re so good.”

  His thumb is a little wet as it slips from my lip onto my chin and my neck. His lidded eyes watch the slight mess he makes, his breath a little shallower. He hums, his chest rumbling with it. “Do you know what I think?” he asks.

  “What?” I answer the single word sounding like a sigh. My eyes drop to my lips in the mirror, my bottom lip coated in a thin layer of my own saliva like a coat of lip gloss. My breasts press against my tank top, seemingly wanting to spill over with each shallow breath. The soft swells of skin peeking from the neckline. His hands drop to my hips, pushing me forward until they’re pressing into the sink with a force that knocks me forward a little, a gasp escaping my lips. I grip the sides of the sink to catch myself. His fingers press into my hips as he holds me firmly. His body looms over me as his eyes take in my bent-over form. Those stunning green eyes that usually resemble the greenery of a forest when the sun is shining through the canopy of leaves just right, now a darkened green like the parts of the forest the sun can’t reach. 

  His hands massage my hips roughly, pushing them forward before drawing them back. His eyes are downturned to the movement, his mouth parted a little in the same manner mine is. My breath is quicker, and my heart is pounding in my chest like it’s trying to escape the space behind my ribs. “What’d I say about keeping your eyes on yourself?” He says roughly despite his own distraction. I swallow roughly, forcing my eyes back on myself for the umpteenth time.   

  He continues his actions, eyes burning into my hips and my ass like nothing else matters. “I think…” he starts, circling back to answer the question he asked me before, one I forgot about. “I think it should be sinful,” the word is like a purr coming from his lips, “to look this good. To be so fucking pretty.” It should be ironic coming from him but why would he go through all this trouble, all this guiding, pushing, pressing to convince me of something he didn’t believe in? And I can see it. I can see it, through the fog of a bad day, exactly what he’s seeing, or at least part of it. 

  “Are you seeing it?” he asks in a low voice as if he saw the change in my eyes. “Yeah,” I breathe, nodding, “Yes, I see it.”

  “Good,” he answers firmly, and yet I can hear the cocky smile that no doubt threatens his lips. Then, his hand circles around the back of my neck, tangling into my hair. He squeezes just once before he’s guiding me up, straightening me out ‘till I’m standing straight again. I spin in his hold, his large hands immediately going to my hips to keep me pressed into the sink. His eyes meet mine, something written in his irises that I can’t decipher. Then, they drop to my lips and then to my chest, that cocky smile finally making its appearance as his eyes drag back up to my lips. “Where’d you learn that?” I ask.

  His smile widens as he answers, “You don’t wanna know.”

[genderqueerdykes]

i completely understand the dysphoria around something a lot of people celebrate, im a perisex trans guy, and i have a ton of dysphoria about having a dick (as well as a vagina) and so bottom growth has been dysphoria inducing. however, i dont have to accept it! people talk about having both, but i discovered you can have neither (genital nullification) and its been a light in the darkness so to speak.

i know bottom growth isnt celebrated by a lot, but in a community that seems to assume wanting a dick, it can be hard to express my dysphoria.

(this was asked after seeing the other ask you answered about being dysphoric about body hair, so while this is a very different situation, it resonated with me, cuz like. yeah. it can feel isolating)

continued:

"(sent ask about nullo and dysphoria about bottom growth)

im also sex repulsed, so the fact that my body gets aroused and stuff makes me wanna cry every time, which contributes to feeling like nullo is the only light in a very very dark room."

hey im glad you found something that gives you a sense of relief. it's totally okay to be dysphoric about that. just because you don't want bottom growth for yourself doesn't mean you're demonizing it or the people who want it. it's perfectly fine for that to make you uncomfortable, although i'm sorry that it does. it's absolutely okay for you to discuss that dysphoria. just because it makes one trans guy euphoric doesn't mean it will make all of us euphoric

i also totally understand why being sex repulsed would make that even more uncomfortable. due to being on the asexual spectrum, i sometimes feel very uncomfortable and even disgusted when i experience arousal, not because i'm ashamed, but because it genuinely feels bad. i def get why you'd feel that way, dysphoria impacts a lot of areas of one's life

if the idea of having neither sets of genitals appeals to you, then there's nothing wrong with that! i've known TONS of trans and intersex people who want to get rid of their genitals altogether. some people don't want a penis OR a vagina and that's okay. you shouldn't be forced to settle for an organ you don't want. i just wanted to let you know that i hear you, and that it's fine to feel this way. i'm really glad you found something that helps, and you're not alone!

if anyone else feels the same way, please feel free to chip in for anon. i'm sure they'd appreciate hearing from others like them. take care for now!

[f4ggydog]

Dom Shauna / bottom Nat PAHLEASE

JUST HOW DEEP DO YOU BELEVEEEEEEE WHEN YOU BITE THE HAND THAT FEEDSSSSS WHEN U CHEW UNTIL IT BLEEDSSSSSS

“do you not get it?” shauna snaps, staring at dead in the eyes. “you’re not the one in charge anymore.”

“this is bullshit,” nat spits, voice unsteady and wavering. she’s trembling, gripping the spear like it’s attached to her hand. “this whole thing is such…bullshit. this trial is the one of the worst things you and your freak clique have came up with.”

“freak clique?” shauna raises an eyebrow, sinister smile displayed on her lips. “you are one with the freak clique, nat. whether you like it or not, you’re just like us. you’re just as deranged as the rest of us.”

“i-i’m not.” nat’s lip quivers, her gaze unable to hold her coach’s. “i-i…fuck you, shauna. go fuck yourself.”

“watch your mouth.” shauna pinches nat on the cheek before giving it a light slap. “you’re doing the fucking honors. he spoke to you last. you do the honors of getting rid of him.”

“i already told you…i’m not doing it.”

“you little bitch,” shauna swears, ripping the spear out of nat’s hands and pressing the pointy tip against coach ben’s chest. “if you’re not gonna kill him, i’m fucking doing it myself and then killing you with my bare hands later.”

“like you’d dare,” nat scoffs.

“nobody fucking needs you, nat.” shauna now directs the spear’s end to nat’s neck, poking her like she’s tempting nat with the dance of death. “shit all went downhill once you got ‘assigned’ as leader. not a single fucker is gonna grieve if i get rid of you.”

shauna looks back at all of the other camp members.

“anybody wanna fucking object? anybody have anything they want to share?”

silence, only bold silence.

“do it nat.” shauna’s eyes flicker back to the antler queen, whose crown she’s hell-bent on stealing. nat should’ve been dethroned ages ago. lottie made an error and if she can’t amend it herself, shauna will pull the strings and unleash her wrath. that’s what she’s best for anyhow.

a tear slides down nat’s cheek. she knows coach ben will meet his demise, but she doesn’t want to be the one to murder him. she doesn’t want the role as the executioner. nat refuses to direct the slaughter.

“don’t start crying,” shauna barks, not giving a flying fuck if nat’s emotions get the best of her. “you know what needs to be done.”

nat sniffs, her teeth chattering and her voice cracking like leaves being stomped on in the wind. “w-why…c-can’t you do…it yourself?”

“i think you should be the one that does it nat,” shauna insists. “more of a symbolic gesture.”

“fuck your symbolism,” nat shouts.

suddenly, the rifle goes off. nat screams until her voice is hoarse and drops to her knees solemnly, gripping her weapon. taissa called the shots. she stands with her hood over her head, fearless and courageous where nat couldn’t be. not a single pinch of empathy or regret crossed her features when she pulled that trigger. tai had the face of stone, unchanging and rock solid. so nonchalant, like she didn’t just end a human being’s life.

nat can’t even look up to view her coach’s brains splattered. shauna gives taissa a silent nod of approval and pats her on the back. she did a good job today. she stepped up and took the role as man of the house when nat succumbed to guilt.

it’s only going to get worse, though. cause shauna’s about to punish her for her disobedience and refusal to take charge. she always made for a disastrous leader anyway.

“i-i’m sorry,” nat whines. it’s been an hour since the coach’s slaughter and shauna’s administering nat’s punishment with no remorse.

“sorry for what?” shauna hisses. “tell me what you’re sorry for and i’ll stop.”

nat’s cunt burned. shauna’s three fingers stretched her out harshly and shauna didn’t bother to bring lube or spit on her fingers to soothe the intrusion. still, nat felt disgusting for feeling pain from being fingered so roughly. she thinks it’s only a quarter of the pain her coach had to suffer through. maybe she deserves worse. maybe she wasn’t treated inadequately enough.

“s-sorry for…sorry for…”

“do you even know what you’re apologizing for?” shauna releases a cruel laugh. “you’re such a fucking joke, nat. next time, just bend over and show everyone at camp your pussy. it’s all you’re good for. let me take care of the food, yeah?”

what a son of a bitch. nat was going to kill shauna after this. that was the straw that broke the fucking camel’s back.

“i-i’m sorry for not killing coach scott,” nat whimpers, the desperation to be free of shauna’s fingers kicking in. “i-i’m sorry. n-next time you…want me to kill, i will.”

“good girl.” shauna simpers. “now work yourself on my fingers until you cum. i’ll stay here all fucking night so you better start convincing your body that this feels good.”

[alaskan-wallflower]

found out my parents are sending me to camp for the summer. they didn’t tell me or anything. they just told me at dinner that i was gonna be going and that was that. idk why in even going. they just signed me up without telling me. maybe in being a brat. but it honestly feels like a ploy to get rid of me for the summer.

i talked to her about it and she got all mad like ‘Oh stop being dramatic I’m not shipping you off in a box so shut up and accept it’ and then she backtracks to ‘but i don’t want you to leave because i’m emotionally burnt out because of your brother who’s graduating’ like fucking pick one. she makes me feel like one of those kids on dr phil who gets shipped of to therapy camp. it’s not the same but she’s just shipping me off without asking how i feel.

i don’t know what i did wrong but it feels like she wants to send me away. and i really didn’t need this after the fucking week i’ve had. because now i just feel like shit. so much for catching a fucking break after school lets out.

[desire-mona]

me when im forced to remember that the autism isnt just a fun secret way to like my fav band more than everyone else and that ill actually never be able to navigate social situations normally

[thegreatyin]

firmament chapter 3 is. very long. though admittedly length is relative and mostly just constricted by how many actions every other step in this chapter costs

[alpinelogy]

.

[lesbiansanemi]

Remind me to never live with neurotypical ppl who have never had money issues in their life/have families who are willing to give them however much money they want whenever they ask. Genuinely infuriating ppl to live with who do not consider how their actions affect others ever. How am I on round 2 of this

[lex-the-lesbiann]

my most controversial dndads take is probably that i think code purple was the right decision what who said that?!

[wereh0gz]

Is my discomfort with my boobs gender dysphoria, body dysmorphia, or just a general discomfort with the sensations of having a human body that comes with possible neurodivergency

[skrunksthatwunk]

why the fuck did i write about birds this fucking sucks. i just found out birds only sleep for a few minutes at a time, hundreds of times a day. do you know what this is going to do to my structure? the logistics of their road trip? this is already like three days late and i've been fighting for my life to get A Plot Like Any Plot That Makes Sense out and now the birds fucking sleep for 5 minutes at a time.

[lock-my-feelings-in-a-jar]

Please BE EXCITED about stuff you like/ want to be excited about 💞 That's what life supposed to be about, finding joy in the smallest things, in the things we enjoy and love. And the people that judge us for having that joy in our hearts lose their own life, because they spend too much time judging someone else's life instead of doing something with their own. FUCK them

this is one of my favorite asks and i love you

[hollytree33]

I’m back!!

[chaelinsbitch]

.

[queer-crusader]

Gnawing at the bars of my cage. Begging for the theatre peeps tonight to tell me there's always space for one more to join them. Hissing at my supervisor. Crawling from paycheck to paycheck. U know how it is