#finally got around to making a promo for this

[johaerys-writes]

Ch. 22: Futile Devices

Read on AO3 | Read from the beginning

In the late morning light, Achilles’ hair is like liquid gold. 

It glitters as it tumbles around his head in lazy waves, like a shimmering halo. It’s messy and disheveled yet it still looks as if an artist’s hands have arranged it carefully over the pillow. His features are perfect and serene in sleep, the light caressing the sharp angle of his jaw and the straight line of his nose, shadows ghosting over the side of his neck and hugging the delicate curve of his throat, his lips pink and sensual; he looks as if he’s in a painting already, the perfect picture of a lovely youth in repose. 

Patroclus lies on his stomach, pillow propped beneath his chin, and watches him for a very long time. 

It’s well past ten and Achilles still hasn't stirred, which is unusual for him. Patroclus can’t remember Achilles ever staying in bed too long after dawn. Even if he did, it would be to pester Patroclus until he finally gave up and got up with him. Perhaps last night was too intense for him, or the day before it. Perhaps Patroclus wore him out, or Antilochus before him, or a combination of the two. 

They really should talk about that. 

But… perhaps not just yet. Patroclus isn’t quite ready to let go of that warm, fuzzy feeling. He wants to hold on to this bliss for as long as he can, without spoiling it with thoughts of the past or the future. It’s enough for him that he can exist in this moment with Achilles, watching as his chest rises and falls gently with every breath, eyelids twitching in dreaming. There will be time to talk about the rest. 

He hopes they will have time. 

Laika trots into the room and comes to sit by Patroclus’ side of the bed. She gazes up at him with her big wet eyes and whines quietly, scratching at the blanket. Patroclus may be able to ignore the future, but the present is very insistently tugging him out of bed so that he’ll take it for a walk. 

Achilles doesn’t open his eyes as Patroclus quietly shushes Laika and slips from underneath the covers, and if that isn’t testament to how exhausted he must be then Patroclus doesn’t know what is. He pulls his sweatshirt over his head and pads silently out of the room. Achilles’ jacket is hanging by the peg by the door and Patroclus throws it on before walking outside; it’s much easier than walking back towards his room and risking Laika’s impatient woofs as she’ll inevitably follow him there waking Achilles up. He pulls on his hood, and walks out. 

It’s a clear, crisp day. A sharp wind is blowing through the park, but it isn’t unpleasant. It feels fresh and clean. It reminds Patroclus of Phthia and its clear skies, its rolling hills and wide open plains; it’s a bit of a welcome change in the stuffiness of the big city. 

A strong gust ruffles his hair; Patroclus huddles deeper into the jacket. It smells like Achilles, warm and sweet and a little musky, and a grin comes to Patroclus’ lips unbidden. His heart flutters and his stomach twists in excitement at the thought that he will see Achilles again the moment he walks through their apartment door. It’s a little ridiculous, because Patroclus has hardly spent a single day of his life without seeing Achilles, but it’s even better now, infinitely better, because now Patroclus can kiss him. He can touch him, he can look at him openly without fearing that he’ll be caught. He can slip right back into bed if Achilles isn’t up yet and pull him close and smell the fawn-smooth skin of his neck without needing an excuse. He can just do that. The thought alone makes every nerve in his body sing. He’s all giddy like a child on Christmas day.  

Laika seems to share none of his enthusiasm to return home; she’s more than happy to sniff and examine every tree and bench and corner they pass by. After ignoring her for most of the morning, Patroclus feels like he has to make it up to her, so he lets her do as she pleases until she eventually grows bored and starts tugging at the leash so they can go back home. They jog and then run down the last block, and by the time they reach their front door Patroclus is flushed and panting and grinning, scratching behind Laika’s ears with one hand as he fumbles with the key with the other. 

Achilles emerges from the room, sleepy and bleary-eyed in just his boxers just as Patroclus closes the door behind him and hangs the jacket by the peg.

“Hey,” Patroclus says, still laughing as Laika hops around his feet and plays tug with the leash. He takes it off her collar and gives her a last pat on the head before urging her towards her food and water bowls. “Did we wake you? Laika’s very energetic this morning.”

Achilles just blinks at them both, his face still a little puffy from sleep and a clear imprint of the pillow on his cheek. “I woke up while you were out.” 

“Shall I make us some coffee?” Patroclus walks to the kitchen and starts opening the cupboards and taking out mugs and jars. As the coffee maker hums awake and the kitchen fills with its warm and comforting smell, Patroclus rummages through the cupboards and the fridge to make them something to eat. Their fridge is more or less empty, with nothing but a couple forgotten apples in a corner, a stick of butter and some leftover takeaway that should really be thrown away. Patroclus regrets that he didn’t think to buy Achilles breakfast, but he didn’t want to be away for longer than he should. “There isn’t much, but I’m sure we’ll be able to scrap something together. Maybe… an apple crumble? Sort of? I think we still have some flour left, unless you used it all up yesterday—”

His sentence is cut off when Achilles’ arms wind around his middle and squeeze. He presses himself to his back, face dropping on his shoulder.

“I woke up and the bed was empty,” he murmurs against the fabric of Patroclus’ shirt. “I thought you were gone.” 

“Oh.” Patroclus rests his hand on Achilles’ arms where they’re wrapped around him. When he rolled out of bed, he didn’t stop at all to think what Achilles would make of him missing. But given their history… the mornings after being intimate were always the worst. “Laika had to go, and I didn’t want to wake you. I didn’t realise….” 

He shifts around in Achilles’ hold to face him. Achilles tilts his face up towards him; his eyes are still a little tired, dark circles beneath them from the previous night, but they’re clear and bright as always, reflecting the light. Affection blooms in Patroclus’ chest at the sight, warming him. He cups Achilles’ cheeks. 

“I didn’t mean to upset you,” he says softly. “I was only going to be out for a little while.”

“I know. It’s okay. When I saw that Laika wasn’t here either I figured it out, but still…” He sighs, resting his face between Patroclus’ palms. “Do you regret it?” he asks, very serious.

“What?” 

“What happened last night. Do you regret it?” 

Read the rest on AO3!

[lctibule]

latibuleㅤㅤ(lat-i-bule) ㅤㅤㅤ(n)ㅤa hiding place; a place of safety and comfort.

☾ㅤcarrd.ㅤ✧ㅤcredit.ㅤ☾

[bunheadusako]

    ˚ ⭒ . ☽ ˚ . ⋆ 𝐛𝐮𝐧𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐮𝐬𝐚𝐤𝐨 ⋆ . ˚ ☾ . ⭒ ˚

an independent & private role play blog for usagi tsukino / sailor moon from naoko takeuchi's bishoujo senshi sailor moon. written & adored by meg.

          ˚ ⭒ . ☽ ˚ . ⋆ rules about navigation ⋆ . ˚ ☾ . ⭒ ˚ the moonlight is a messenger of love! please give this post a like or reblog if you are interested in interacting!

[tongueandtailbutcher]

...And I know that you mean so well

But I am not a vessel for your good intent

Promo template from here & Screencaps from here

[animmal]

where will the meanings be when the words are forgotten? ... multimuse run by day.

[worldhell-archiving]

When the higher hills have turned blue and the waves are lapping where the children grew, all that we have know will be an echo of days when love was true, muted voices just beyond the silent surface of what has gone

SHINGEKI NO KYOJIN MULTIMUSE ADORED BY GWYN(NETH) not minor friendly , dark themes apply. mun 24+

[luxscalis]

luxscalis﹐semi selective. mutuals only. ashe glasswell/ warrior of light from final fantasy XIV. adored by mephisto ( she/her ). please read googledoc before interacting!

NOT SPOILER FREE

googledoc (rules and bio) promo template

[nijimx]

Don't get all cocky because I normally behave myself! I am DONE playing nice! Let's go, Johanna! Full throttle!

Indie Makoto Nijima Penned by Mike

Rules About

[deadlyreliable]

☆ ℑ 𝔩𝔦𝔨𝔢 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔟𝔩𝔬𝔬𝔡 𝔬𝔫 𝔪𝔶 𝔱𝔢𝔢𝔱𝔥 𝔧𝔲𝔰𝔱 𝔞 𝔩𝔦𝔱𝔱𝔩𝔢 𝔱𝔬𝔬 𝔪𝔲𝔠𝔥 ☆ ☆ 𝔑𝔬𝔴 ℑ'𝔪 𝔱𝔴𝔦𝔰𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔞𝔯𝔪 '𝔱𝔦𝔩 ℑ 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔯 𝔦𝔱 𝔟𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔨 ☆

☆ Home ☆ | ☆ Ask ☆ | ☆ Rules ☆

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[sarcaasmic]

More info here. Credits: Promo Template PSD Coloring.

[felixandresims]

Hello again :),

It is finally finished, and I am so happy to receive all your replies to my WIP Post.

As I had shown you before, for this month, I was working on a Bedroom Set and created a walk-in wardrobe, too. This collection consists of 36 items.

I based The whole Soho Set around a loft apartment, and I was thinking of a bedroom that could be built into an open space. Of course, I wanted to create modern items, but there are slight retro and Art Deco hints, mainly through patterns and backdrops. I thought it was time to make new bedding; I got a bit bored of the Berlin and Fayun ones :D. you can combine it with a separate bed base and a headboard with plug details. For the 'Livin Rum', I created a wooden Eames chair; for this collection, I made the metal frame version and added a bedside table in a similar style.

As mentioned, I added a modular walk-in wardrobe with four shelves. I added 16 different garments, three luxury handbags inspired by Louis Vuitton, Bottega Veneta, and Hermès. There are lots of customizing options. You can either place those items into the open space and cover them with mirror walls or against a wall.

This Set is on Early Access and will be released at the beginning of July. and you can find it here

A small gimmick: I bought a Cardboard VR Goggle because I created 3D images of my travels and tried the same stereoscopic technique with my sims interiors, and it worked; the sims look so so cute in actual 3D :D, in case you have VR glasses I wanted to share my Promo images in 3D too if you concentrate on the pictures you can also see them in 3D without goggles :)

This is the second to last iteration, and I will work on a Living collection for the coming month.

I hope you like the new items. Again, thank you so much for everything!!!

Lots of Love,

Felix xxx

[gentlemanjuniper]

If I could inject just a little positivity to the news...

Season 2 has a lot of filler and stretches out a pretty simple mystery to six episodes. That's the appeal to some, I get it. But tightness and focus was not its strong suit. I remember feeling like it wasted a ton of time on side characters and it's possible shaving the story down to 90 minutes will skim things down to its most essential beats and be stronger for it. Basically, S2 got a lot of time given to it, and this is obviously my personal opinion but I don't think it used all of it well. I think S2 itself could have been half the length simply by employing more efficient storytelling and we'd not mourn too much.

A lot of S2's weaker plotlines feel built around people that Neil wanted to work with again, with so many recurring actors (I'm thinking of the zombies specifically, when that minisode could have easily been tighter without them). A lot of s2 to me feels like Neil just making work for the people he likes and wants to work with and a movie has to be more accountable to things like that.

Lots of entire fandoms exist around single movies. 90 minutes is not nothing. It's enough for many, many films to tell a complete story with cute character interactions and satisfying emotional arcs, especially when A&C are the only real significant connecting threads between both seasons thus far.

I don't think there are as many loose threads that absolutely need resolving as people may be thinking. Would I like to know why Aziraphale did the '40s apology dance? Would I like to see his bookshop gun? Sure. Are either of those necessarily essential to closing out the story? I don't think so. Really, what needs resolving is the second coming and, directly connected to that, Aziraphale and Crowley's rift. To me, not knowing the story obviously, that seems super reasonable to do in 90 minutes?

I don't think anyone involved in the final season can possibly be blind to the appeal of the show being Aziraphale and Crowley over anything else. That's certainly the reason why their roles were expanded to begin with from the book and why the second season was, nominally, all about them. They also now have to pay MS and DT for appearing in a movie rather than an ensemble show, there's no way they won't be front and center. Amazon wants a show that will make money and market itself; there's a reason why all the promo material for S2 was of Crowley and Aziraphale, because people engage with that stuff, reblog it, make art that promotes the show, etc. It makes no artistic or financial sense to make a movie that sidelines them.

GO is at its best when it has Terry's voice most strongly in it. That's why to me, S2 was a weaker, more meandering season overall (that, and I think the minisodes, while fun, just make the season feel comprised of different voices not always working in tandem towards a common goal). If I was a writer hired to condense a season into a film, and one of the authors had been rightfully disgraced, I would go out of my way to ensure the clearly Terry stuff is most significantly emphasized. It's telling to me that the Pratchett estate is producing and it's possible that the end result will result in more Terry, less Neil.

Think of it this way: everything we've gotten after S1 has always been extra. Imagine telling a fan of the book in the 90s that not only will you get a six episode adaptation, you also get a totally new second season, AND a movie?

Basically: I know this is disappointing but I think a lot of the pleasure of the Good Omens fandom was ALWAYS people picking up on and expanding on details, and y'all managed to do that just fine when A&C were only ensemble members in S1. You can and will do that with a movie too. And this solution both a) ensures first and foremost that Neil won't be involved or the allegations swept under the rug, and b) gives an opportunity for the heart of the story to be emphasized with greater focus, clarity and less filler.

Will we lose good stuff? Probably. But it's also possible we will get a tighter, more condensed, focused version of the best bits, the Terry Pratchett-est bits. I can easily see a 90 minute movie that, knowing they HAVE to focus on the important stuff now, is more Crowley and Aziraphale centric than ever.

[rafeyscurtainbangs]

Rafehub.com - Rafe Cameron Plink Library

+18 Minor DNI

Pornstar!Rafe Cameron - P🔗 Library

Welcome to RafeHub.com

This p!link library was made with my lover @rafesthroatbaby

if you love pornstar!Rafe check out the sexy au created by our baby @starkeyisthelastname

The titles were “written by Rafe” to give it a typical porn-esque vibe. The white text is a little backstory 💋

⭐️ Back shots 💦💦💦 🍑Your first video with Rafe

⭐️ stretching u like only i can let me ruin you 4 everyone else

⭐️ i love teasing what’s mine let me play with your pussy while daddy gets you ready for his cock Rafe easing you into it after making you sore from your last shoot

⭐️ Am i too rough? I’m sorry. I’ll take it nice n easy 4 you baby. I’m gonna try to make it all fit i promise. 🤡 cum back for part 2 where i fuck this slut into the mattress

⭐️ two girls one rafe 😈 After a night of partying, you and Rafe bring another actress back to his house to play

⭐️ they love to share me i guess i’ll keep them both

⭐️ Making a mess on the couch. How many times do i make her squirt?? 😜 Rafe’s been stalking your videos since. He didn’t know you could squirt. Now he’s desperate to make you squirt multiple times on camera.

⭐️ Messy girl ❤️‍🔥 gonna need a shower after this shit 🥵

⭐️ Let The Pussy Destroyer satisfy your breeding kink ♥️ The only actress Rafe finishes in unprotected is you. He can’t help but whisper the dirtiest shit in your ear about how he’s gonna end your career because he fucked a baby into you. But what he gets off on the most is how he’ll never have to watch you fuck anyone else again.

⭐️ daddy dicking her ⬇️

⭐️ Let me destroy you - size kink king 🍆 she’s takin this dick like a champ Rafe is clearly obsessed with you and his followers are getting jealous

⭐️ I love using your tight pussy such a perfect fucktoy for me

⭐ What Rafe sends to you after you send him your nudes 📸

⭐️ had to sneak away from her boyfriend to get fucked by daddy. Do you think he’s doin this shit like me?? 😂Shooting with Rafe after he tells you that you can fuck whoever… You mean nothing to him. He didn’t realize how wrong he was ‘til it happened. His jealousy also went into overdrive after he found out that the other actor was an ex of yours. Of course he keeps that shit to himself.

⭐️ you just don’t stop cummin do you?

⭐ mine 📸 Rafe’s petty-ass posting this GIF online and sending it to your ex

⭐️ cum give daddy a hand and stroke me til I’m emptyDenying Rafe pussy because he won’t use his words and tell you how he feels when you can tell he’s annoyed

⭐ covering her with my load

⭐️ atta girl swallow daddy’s dick

⭐️ not gonna lie this chick fucked me look at her creamin on my big dick Fucking Rafe on camera after rumors circulate about him and another mattress actress. He put in an extra effort after getting his feelings hurt and now he regrets it completely

⭐️ she says she hates me… turns out she just needed some good dick

⭐️ she loves gettin slapped and fucked dumb Getting fucked rough after ignoring Rafe’s calls

⭐️ keep screaming for me. You think I’m gonna stop? 😂

⭐️ Babygirl couldn’t wait until the movie ended so i fucked her like the impatient slut she is Rafe invites you over for a movie. When you ask him if it’s a date he brushes you off because he’s too scared to get attached. “Nah, princess. We’re just hanging out. Thought we could relax and shoot some shit when we got bored.”

⭐️ my little anal queen’s so good 💦🍑 clenching and tightening around my dick

⭐️ 🩷My tongue and fingers are magic princess lay back and let daddy Rafe make you feel like a pretty little slut🩷 First video after Rafe finally tells you how he feels

⭐️ Trying new angles while I stretch out that perfect pussy 💯

⭐️ she came 2 play 🥵 little promo 4 you filthy slut. comment below it u want some more ⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️ You both love money and sex. You don’t want to stop shooting, so you make a couples OnlyFans account instead, putting out a few promos on Twitter

⭐️ 🎀little miss innocent before she met me🎀

⭐️ U got me stroking my shit… can’t stop thinking about you Leaving Rafe for the weekend while you go on vacation with your friends. He’s so pussy whipped you have him playing with himself

⭐ Her 🤍📸 Rafe posting and watching some softer GIFs when you’re gone because he misses his babygirl

⭐️ Had to pull over cause she looked too fuckin good Rafe picking you up from the airport and he couldn’t even wait til you got home

⭐️ she loves that cameron cum 👑 think she’s the one

⭐️ think she likes her new gift ⛓️‍💥😈 Shooting content for your OnlyFans - switching it up with cuffs and masks

⭐️ heard you sluts liked masks

⭐️ look at you all tied up with your legs wide open and your dripping wet pussy throbbing waiting for some cameron cock

⭐️ Be a good girl and cum with Daddy while he plays with your toys 😈

Like, reblog, and comment to show us some love 🤍 @rafesthroatbaby inbox is open for any love you want to send her way as well!!

my masterlist 🔮

[megamindsecretlair]

Sweet Escape, Part 1

Pairing: Bodyguard!Terry Richmond x Singer!Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. Cursing, trying out some angst, teasing, mentions of loneliness, suicide, depression, power imbalance. Mentions of blood, knife, and violence, all consensual. Sorry if I missed some.

Summary: You are on top of the world as one of the world’s most popular R&B singers. But behind the glitz and glam, you were unmoored, lonely, and aching for something you couldn’t put a name to. With freakish threats escalating, you turn to your stoic bodyguard, Terry, in hopes that you’ll finally feel safe and like you belong.

Word Count: 5,102k

AO3 Link

A/N: I know we all have bodyguard Terry on our brains so here's my contribution! I'd love to know your thoughts on the angst, I wanna get better at it. Toss a coin to your blogger by leaving a comment, gif, or unhinged ask.

You felt like a damn doll. You’d been plucked, prodded, lifted, and separated so many times, you felt like you were melting beneath the studio lights. This was the last interview of the morning and you were ready to slip back into your slippers and call it a fucking day. 

As production assistants flittered around like chickens with their heads cut off, you scanned the room. The lights prevented you from seeing much, but you were able to make out your best friend and manager, Mirage, and your personal assistant, Joya standing by the monitors. Mirage gave you a thumbs up and you sighed.

Mirage knew you inside and out. She giggled, knowing that you wanted to turn all this shit over by now. They wanted you to be here on time but the messy host, A’Kierra West, was nowhere to be found. And if there was one thing you hated, it was to be kept waiting. 

A makeup assistant came up to you and blotted you with a napkin. You smiled at her. “Thank you,” you said. 

The assistant blinked and got startled and you lifted an eyebrow at her. You’d been nothing but nice so you didn’t know where that reaction was coming from. The assistant fled from the stage and you put it out of your mind.

You bit the corners of your cheeks to keep from exploding. Right as you were about to call out to Mirage, A’Kierra waltzed into the room in a cloud of hairspray and her defining feature, her big ass boobs. The boobs preceded her into the room, tucked into a too small red dress that was better suited for clubbing than a talk show. 

A’Kierra took her sweet, precious, slow time making her way to the stage, stopping to talk to the directors and producers, before finally gracing the stage with her presence. You stood up, since it was technically polite, and gave her the fake Hollywood kiss to both cheeks. 

She smelled like an old white lady at Macy’s. The cloying, flowery scent tickled your nose. You wrinkled your nose and sniffed.

“It’s new! I’m so glad you love it. I’ll send your assistant a bottle!” A’Kierra said. She grinned, showing a row of veneers too large for her face. You smiled to keep your face from showing your true emotions. This bitch was nuts.

“Thank you! I can’t wait!” You said and sat back down in your seat. “So we did the promo and the commercial, now we just do the whole intro and get into it,” A’Kierra explained.

“I’ve done a few of these,” you said.

A’Kierra laughed, the shrill sound like nails on a chalkboard. Her deep brown skin glowed with shimmery lotion but it only served to make her look washed out in the dress. Whoever was dressing her must hate her. 

“Yes, but you’ve never done my show before,” she sniffed. A makeup assistant floated onto the stage out of the shadows and touched up A’Kierra’s lipstick. “Thank you, darling. Make sure my coffee is nice and hot when we’re done?” 

The director emerged between the cameras giving his final notes on the taping. He instructed you to be natural and relaxed. You glance slid towards Mirage who hid a grin behind her hand. The phone that was permanently glued to her hand hid most of her face, but you already knew what she was laughing at. 

Optics…Optics…

The director counted down and then the popular theme song of the show played. The audience you couldn’t see began clapping loudly, wildly, as if you were on stage for a concert rather than an interview taping.

A’Kierra cued up the questions Mirage had you go over earlier. You handled each question well, playing to the crowd, and leaning into the persona you crafted for the world. The carefree, girl power, rah-rah, confident diva with strong knees and an even stronger pair of lungs. 

“But what do you say to all of these mommy coalitions calling for your head, saying you’re a bad influence on their children? Saying you’re over-sexed, lewd, and not lady like at all?” 

It was only your media training that kept you from unleashing your pent up fury. You giggled and shook your head. This was not in the script. “What do you mean?” You asked, giving yourself time to answer. 

“Some may say that the rise in your career also gave rise to all these conservative groups, using you to fund their message of protecting their children from your explicit lyrics and lifestyle. It’s no secret that girls and young women look up to you. Is this really the message you want to send out?” A’Kierra smirked, leaning back in her seat. She crossed her legs, and tapped her notecards against her knee. 

You smiled and chuckled. “I’d say…I’m not responsible for your kids. Maybe if they spent more time paying attention to what their kids are listening to than up my perfect ass, there wouldn’t be an issue. I promote self-confidence for adults. I make grown music for adults. At no point have I ever claimed to be a role model for young girls and I’m not responsible for what these mommy coalitions think of me,” you said with a sweet, saccharine grin. 

A’Kierra kept a smile plastered to her face but there was more than enough ooh’s and aww’s coming from the audience. You stared A’Kierra down, communicating with just looks. She blinked first, clearing her throat and organizing her cards. “Well, that’s certainly a take!” A’Kierra said and laughed along with the audience.

You giggled with her, feeding into all the fake bullshit. This was the last show you wanted to be on. But the optics. Fuck the fucking optics. This show trafficked in gossip and rumors, more focused on catching people on lies and half-truths than speaking about something normal. 

Once the cameras stopped rolling, you waved to the audience and then removed the mic pack from your hip. You passed it to the nearest production assistant, wanting to be free of wires for a long, long time. Well, at least until your next city stop.

Mirage and Joya fell in step beside you, going over the next few items on your list today. When you were done here, you had a small promo shoot for the next city you were going to be in. It’d been a while since you were in LA and you were looking forward to the In and Out burger you were going to inhale at the first chance you got. 

By the door to the studio, your heart skipped a beat looking over the scrumptious, delectable piece of meat you had for a bodyguard. Terry Richmond came highly recommended through the agency you typically used. You ran through their sorry excuse for bodyguards like a kid went through candy. 

But Terry was different. From the first meeting, he was completely professional, calm, and courteous. He didn’t bullshit you with flattery, he didn’t flirt to get with his dream girl, and he treated you like a normal person. That alone had you saying yes before the ink could dry on the contract. 

Add in the fact that he was a former Marine and prepared for…just about everything, you’d felt safe in his presence in a way that you hadn’t with other bodyguards. You didn’t know what led him to this position, but you were glad fate was looking out for you.

“Careful Mr. Terry, stand any straighter, and your back might hurt,” you said. 

Terry stood ready with his hands in front of him, one hand holding the other wrist. He dressed plainly in a pair of jeans and a black T-shirt, showing off huge, bulging muscles. He slanted his ever-changing eyes towards you but there was no other sign that he heard you. 

He went through the door first, taking his job a smidgen too seriously. “Would it kill you to talk, Mr. Terry?” You asked.

Joya handed you your phone and you absently went through your texts as you walked. “No, ma’am,” he said. 

You nearly faltered in your steps. He actually answered. You shook your head in amazement, feeling a thrill that he was in a chatty mood today. You glanced up from your phone to watch his ass move in his jeans. 

He was unreal. A fantasy in a male body that he honed to perfection. Bless his genes, seriously, because there wasn’t a single flaw on the man. 

“See, we’re almost having a conversation,” you said. You handed Joya back your phone with your thanks and followed Terry to the greenroom. You couldn’t wait to take off the fugly silver outfit. Why were you so damn shiny?

“We have plenty of conversations, princess,” he said. You giggled and rolled your eyes at his back. He called you that when he thought you were being a little shit. He approached your dressing room and entered first, doing a quick scan for any potential threats. You waited in the cramped hallway for his inspection to get done. He emerged back out turned those sinful eyes on you. 

“It’s safe to go in,” he said.

You smirked at him. “Try not to miss me for the thirty minutes it’ll take to get all of this off,” you said. You tilted your head at him. Terry blinked at you. You sighed.  “You’re no fun!” 

Terry’s lips lifted in the corners. “I’m plenty of fun. Thirty minutes,” he said, his rich, deep voice soothing. 

“Yes, sir,” you said. You gave him a stern, no-nonsense nod and grinned at him. He did the little smirking thing of his and let you walk into the room with Joya and Mirage hot on your heels. 

Once the door closed, Joya collapsed against the door frame with a wistful sigh. “I wanna pass out every time I get near that man,” she said, fanning herself with the planner she always carried around. It suited her more to write all of your appointments down rather than inputting it into a digital calendar anyone could hack. She never put the thing down. You half suspected that she slept with it under her pillow.

All of the safety measures were sweet, but after a month of no contact from your supposed stalker, you were starting to feel out of sorts. Like this life wasn’t real and you were watching your life pass by on a television set somewhere in a white room. 

The first thing you did was take off your platform heels, sighing as your feet sank into the plush paisley rug. “Zip, please,” you said to Mirage. 

Mirage chuckled at Joya and helped unzip the tight dress you wore. Air returned to your lungs with every inch gained and you sighed again. “He really is too pretty,” Mirage said quietly. 

“Too damn pretty!” You agreed. That was definitely a concern for you when you met up with him. But after twenty minutes of conversation, you were able to glean two things from the mysterious Mr. Richmond. For one, he didn’t play, ever. He was as stoic as any soldier you’d ever run across. And two, something happened to him. Something…soul changing. 

Maybe it was a lost love, maybe it was a personal tragedy. Whatever it was, it made him immune to you. You flirted, you teased, you harassed the man. And he kept his attention on guarding your body. Like you hired him to do. 

You pouted as you approached a cabinet in the room that stored your real clothes. Next to it, there was a clothing rack with outfit choices that you had discarded. Thoughts of how you could get under Terry’s skin kept you occupied as you opened the cabinet doors and shrieked at the gruesome sight before you. 

Your clothes were cut up to shreds, a confetti of fabric at the bottom of the cabinet. Joya and Mirage joined you and shrieked in their own horror. There was a replica mask of your own face staring back at you pinned to the door with a large, very illegal knife. Blood – or god, what you hoped wasn’t real blood – dripped from the mask and down the cabinet door.

The mask was uncanny. One of the most realistic ones you’d ever seen. Terry rushed into the room, gun in his hand but pointed towards the floor. He scanned the room with a flick of his eyes, immediately moving in front of you, and shielding you from the mask. 

It was too late. The image was already burned into your retinas. His massive back took up your field of vision, but due to the black t-shirt, it only let your mind drift. Your mind’s eye recalled the mask in every finite detail and your stomach turned with churning bile. 

“I’m gonna be sick,” you whispered. 

Terry closed the cabinet with his elbow, turning around to you. You looked at him, just in time to feel dizzy. Your knees buckled and Terry caught you, yelling to Mirage and Joya for a doctor. 

Terry hefted you into his arms and left the room. Outside, the cold blast of air in the hallway shocked you enough to not slip into unconsciousness. Terry positioned you on the nearest crate.

The air in your chest began to boil, clawing its way through your clogged throat. Distantly, you knew that you were hyperventilating. But all you saw was your own face. Your own soulless slouched face, rubbery, with makeup stains on the teeth, and a giant knife through the forehead. 

“Hey, don’t do that,” Terry said. He grabbed both sides of your face. You grunted, trying to shake your head. Trying to shake him off of you. His foreboding presence was screaming for you to run. 

“Breathe. Breathe, princess,” he said. 

You groaned, turning your head away. You couldn’t stop seeing it. Your face. Your face. Your face. 

“Count with me. Six, two, four, nine, one, five,” Terry counted.

“What?” You whispered. Terry tightened his grip on your face and forced you to look at him. His startling light eyes bore into yours. 

“Count. Six,” he said. He was so close that you could count every single one of his long, pretty eyelashes. 

Your body shook uncontrollably. A lone tear dripped from your eye and you rubbed it away. “Don’t do that. Let yourself feel it,” he coached.

You shook your head. “Never cry,” you whispered. You narrowed your eyes at him. Whatever he saw in your eyes, he backed off. He nodded. 

“Count then. Six, two, four, nine, one, five,” he said.

“Six…four…”

“Start again,” he said.

He repeated the numbers easily, remembering whatever asinine digits he wanted you to repeat. You needed away. You needed to be free. You groaned and jerked in his hold. The image of your face twisted and melted in your eyes. Turning your memory into slush. What was even real anymore?

“If you can’t do it, I’ll start with three numbers,” he said.

You huffed as you turned your attention back to him, repeating his damn numbers. You had to slow down, had to think about which number came next. Nine and one were the easiest to remember. For some reason, you kept wanting to throw a seven in there.

When you were able to repeat it three times without stopping to think, Terry lowered his hands from your face. You shivered at the lack of contact. His big paws covered your entire face, generating heat. Now that you no longer had it, you felt colder than ever. 

Another tear threatened to fall but you were much calmer now. Better able to hold back the raging tempest inside. Later. Later you could break down. But it wouldn’t be here.

“Who would do…”

“Someone who doesn’t know the difference between a fantasy and a reality,” he said. 

It was quiet in the hallway. The studio was on the other side, down the hall. At the T-instersection where you were, there weren’t even assistants carrying things. It was just the two of you. 

Terry stood directly in front of you, pushed in between your legs so that he could bend and cup your face. Now, you were acutely aware of how close he was. How his chest rose and fell as if he were the one calming down from the scariest shit of his life. And you were the one who found a fan had attempted to kill himself in your swimming pool a month ago. This far surpassed that harrowing night.

“I just wanted to sing. I wanted to stop being invisible. I never asked for this,” you said, the back of your eyes burning with the need to cry. You hadn’t cried in years. The well had long dried. And now twice within Terry’s presence, you wanted to break down and lay it all at his feet.

“You were never invisible,” he said softly. 

Terry gave you a look you couldn’t quite describe but knew instantly. Almost like for a brief moment, he knew you inside and out and didn’t flinch. You cleared your throat and straightened up a little. You grabbed the front of your dress and crossed your arms. The air from the closest vent blew across your back and made you shiver.

Mirage jogged down the hallway with a paramedic close on her heels. She was scrambling, practically in tears, as she ran down. Terry cleared his throat and stepped back, finally turning those crystal eyes away from you. The spell he’d woven broke, stealing your breath. 

You took a deep breath to get it back and fended off Mirage after she clung to you, telling you how worried she was. “I’m fine, babe, I promise,” you said. You waved off the EMT and Terry pushed the EMT forward.

“Let him do his job,” Terry ordered. And for some reason, that didn’t bother you a bit. You shut your mouth and stared at Terry while the EMT went through his preliminary workup. He shined light in your eyes, asking you basic questions like your name, age, and where you were. 

You answered all of his questions, without attitude. For once feeling like you didn’t have to come out swinging first. The EMT cleared you for shock, telling you to get some rest. “I have a photo shoot to keep,” you said, shaking your head. 

“Not anymore,” Terry said. 

“You don’t get to make that call,” you shot back. The EMT looked between the both of you, the subtle daggers you were throwing each other. The EMT quickly put up his supplies and slipped from between you and Terry. 

“I’m tasked with protecting you. Let me,” he said. 

You hopped off of the crate and watched two officers arrive, stepping into your dressing room with security guards from the studio. You stood up straight and pulled on that bitchy persona you were known for. You wore it like a well-used coat, broken in and comfortable. 

“Your job is to guard me wherever I may be. I only have a few more stops on this tour and this incel isn’t going to ruin my dream. If that’s going to be a problem for you, I can call your agency,” you said. You looked at him from beneath your eyelashes. Wondered if you were able to fool him after he’d gotten a peek behind your four inch thick walls. 

Terry leaned back, his stare turning hard. Judging. Your lips parted on a silent gasp. “No need. We’re clear,” he said, his voice just as hard as his eyes. Cold like diamonds. His jaw flexed and he stared straight ahead, giving you a blank, thousand yard stare.

Joya ran into the hallway, pushing past looky-loos and producers. Everybody had a phone out. It’d only be a matter of time before the press caught wind and accosted you outside. You couldn’t leave in this stupid dress. 

Joya finally poked her tiny head up from between the gathering crowd. She held a bag in her hand and handed it to Mirage, leaning over to grab her knees and huff. “Emergency stash,” she huffed.

“You’re a genius, Joya,” Mirage said. 

You avoided Terry’s gaze as you walked further down the hall to a different dressing room. Terry cleared this one first, moving about the room more thoroughly than he did the last. He opened the cabinet and you flinched, half expecting another doppelganger staring at you. 

Nothing jumped out so Terry brushed past. “All clear,” he said. 

He closed the door and you sighed, closing your eyes for a brief moment. That was bitchy of you. Hella bitchy and he didn’t deserve it. You paid him to worry about your safety. You snorted. You were paying people to care about you now. That’s how far you’d fallen. 

“Dare we ask?” Joya asked. 

Mirage turned to her, making a cut it out gesture. “You can say it. I was mean for no reason,” you said. You peeled the silver dress off of your body and shivered. Felt like shedding snake skin. That was the last thing you needed to visualize. 

“It wasn’t…not..for a good reason,” Mirage said.

“It was out of line,” you said. You didn’t typically feel guilty this soon after pulling the diva card. It usually took a few days. After you were half deep into your favorite bottle of wine with only Mirage and Joya as your company.

Joya handed you a pair of leggings, an oversized orange sweater, and a pair of socks. You quickly got dressed, pulling your hair into the best ponytail you could manage. She handed you a hat and a pair of sunglasses. You sighed, feeling more like yourself. You liked dressing up in your costumes for the tour, liked getting pretty like the dolls you used to play with. But there came a time when you just wanted to pig out in a pair of sweats or shorts. 

You slipped on a pair of tennis shoes and Joya draped the silver dress over the back of the couch. She took out her planner, flipping to a sticky pad that she scribbled a note on. She stuck the paper to the door of the dressing room.

Terry looked you up and down, noting your wardrobe change. He looked at Joya and nodded and she giggled breathlessly. 

“Look, Terry,” you began, ready to own up to what you did. 

“We’re good. Stay on me, okay?” He asked. 

You nodded. Terry used his full height to stalk down the hallway. You avoided looking at your dressing room. At the…you were going to be sick. Your stomach twisted as you passed the room, passed the police. 

“I already talked to them. They know about the, um, you know. They won’t need to question you,” Mirage said.

“Thank God,” you said. 

Terry pushed and ordered people to move as he led you out of the studio and to the black truck parked in the connected parking lot. He opened the door for you and you paused before climbing in. 

“I’m sorry about what I said. Truly,” you said. Terry’s eyes defrosted a fraction. He glanced at you and nodded. 

“We’re good,” he said. 

You nodded and hopped in the car. Mirage and Joya hopped in on the other side. Terry walked around to the driver’s side and climbed in, pulling out of the driveway just as the first news cameras were arriving. 

You sighed and leaned against the backseat. “Great thinking, Joya,” you commended. 

“Thanks, but it was Mirage. She made the point that the press was going to have a field day and I took off,” she said. She had her pen and phone out, staring down at your calendar. 

“I called ahead and told them that we were going to be late because of what happened. They said they can move the shoot if you–”

“No. I can’t slow down,” you said. Your schedule was held together by glue, paperclips, and chewing gum. Together with Mirage, you managed to carve out true rest periods. Slots of entire hours where you didn’t have to go anywhere, didn’t have to smile at this, or endorse that. 

Your mind drifted back to what you told Terry in the studio. All you ever wanted to do was sing. You watched countless videos of your favorite singers, sung your heart out whenever you had the chance, snuck and took singing lessons because you knew that this was where you wanted to be.

Hollywood never showed the uglier parts. The parts where it felt like there would always be a thousand hands crawling all over your skin. Thousands of fans taking it too far. Sending you disturbing videos of either their tiny dicks, feet, moles, chest hairs, or telling you how much you sucked at singing. They said you were overrated. Mannish. Too full of yourself. Every one of them had a different fantasy of you in their heads. Every one of them wanted a piece of you. And whoever this maniac was, they weren’t going to stop until they succeeded in killing you. 

“I don’t know how much longer I can keep doing this. It might be time to step down from singing for a while,” you said.

“What! Noooo. Why? Because of this loser?” Mirage asked. 

“It’s everything. I’m just so tired,” you whispered. Terry’s eyes flicked to yours in the rearview mirror. Your eyes burned again and you looked away from him. Curse him and his damn hypnotizing eyes. 

Terry got you to the photoshoot without breaking any traffic laws. But he was close. He escorted you to the door, a steady presence the entire way. No one was getting through Terry. That thought put you at ease as you turned your mind off and went back to the doll everyone wanted you to be.

Hours later, Terry was at the receptionist’s desk at the hotel coordinating your move. You were switching hotel rooms, again. You were packed up and loaded up into the truck, again. You were checking into a different hotel, classier than the last, under a different name and was once again in the elevator with Terry by your side. 

He hardly carried a duffle bag. A small thing that looked silly bouncing against his big ass. Terry escorted you to the room, dropping his bag to the floor. He unsheathed his gun and pressed it close to his body. 

“Wait here,” he said. He opened the door with the keycard and let himself in first. He turned on the light and swept through the entire suite, checking behind every nook and cranny. You followed behind him anyway. Even if your stalker did manage to find the place, there was no way he had enough time to set a trap. 

Terry came back into the foyer and stopped up short when he saw you looking at the complimentary wine bottle. You read over the standard hotel note. “I told you to wait outside,” he said and put up his gun. 

“I’m tired and I want to lay down.” You waved him off. What you really wanted to do was take a hot fucking bath and bawl your eyes out. The “later” had finally come and you wanted to break down in peace. 

Terry moved to the door and grabbed his duffle, bringing it inside. He closed and locked the door, putting on the safety latch for good measure. He slung the duffle over his shoulder and walked to the adjoining suite door. He opened it and then stopped across to his side of it.

“I’ll be right on the other side if you need anything,” he said. You leaned against the open door and gave him a small smile. 

“Thanks, Terry. For today,” you said.

“It’s my job right?” He asked.

You groaned and rolled your eyes. “You are never going to let me live that down, are you?” You asked. 

Terry smiled tightly, like he wasn’t quite used to it anymore. “Not a chance, princess,” he said. 

You rolled your eyes again, pinching your lips together to keep from smiling. All it did was bunch up your cheeks and give away the rising heat in your cheeks. “Goodnight, Mr. Terry,” you said.

“Goodnight,” he said. He closed the door and you stood on the other side of it. Wondering what it must be like to know him intimately. To know what made him smile or laugh. What made his eyes light up with joy. Or what brought such sadness to his eyes. 

You wondered what it would be like to fall into his arms, easily, readily, and have him embrace you like you were the most precious thing in the world. For a brief moment, you let yourself daydream. Let the fantasy take shape in your mind.

That was a much more comforting image to hold onto than the crushing weight of the day. You turned away from the door, heading to your side of the suite. You entered your room and ran yourself a bath.

The room steamed up with heat from the bath you ran. The clawfoot tub was pristine, with an ornate faucet. The rug underneath felt like clouds. You focused on the strangeness around you. 

The few trips you did take were nothing like this. You stayed in nice hotels, hotels your family was able to afford, but not like this. It didn’t stink like mold. The opposite. There was some kind of subtle, expensive perfume in the air. 

The bathroom was so spacious, you could fit three clawfoot bathtubs in it and still have room left over. You were in the lap of luxury and it felt like a gilded cage, designed to keep you in a perpetual state of “other”. Temporary. In the world but never of it. 

You turned off the hot water and swirled your hands through the foamy bubbles. It was the perfect temperature so you took off your clothes, threw on a bonnet, and sank in. The heated water was a welcome balm, soothing the tension you carried in your body. 

The tears came too easily, just under the surface. It slipped down your cheeks and you finally let yourself break down. Allowed yourself to feel the stress and loneliness of the day. You had one of the most horrific days of your life and everybody who mattered already knew about it. 

There was no one to vent to. No one who wasn’t already on your payroll. And to be honest, that hurt most of all. 

Ya'll know what I'm about. The Secret Terry Richmond Files

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[chrissv4mp]

౨ৎ lacy black pair with the little bows

— word count : 4.3k

★ sum: you listen to billie's new feature, and you can't help but notice that more than half of her lyrics are directed toward you.

☆ pair: fem!reader × billie eilish

★ cws: smut, language, spit, oral, fingering, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, crying, mommy kink, degradation, dirty talk, masturbation, strap-on sex, etc.

☆ a/n: well...... haven't written for like 4 years (days), but i'm back !! (maybe...)

★ a/n 2: i lied, you're getting this way earlier than u should've.... (my break from writing is long overdue i need to get back on here 💔)

— tags : @livialifesblog @mseilishmwah @mxqdii @sophloveswomen @devynscomet @her-favorite @br4ttyeilish @wiidfi0wer33

navigation

your thumb quickly taps on a newly released music video, a video starring charli xcx, and your girlfriend. you heard the song already, millions of times, actually. it was one of your favorites on the album, and you were ecstatic when you found out that billie got to star in the music video and also put a little twist to the song.

you bit down on your lip in an effort to contain your excitement, a light pink hue flushing your cheeks and ears as your eyes darted around at every extra in the video. they all looked amazing, but the person you wanted to see right now was billie. you wanted to know what she was wearing in the video and what lyrics she wrote for it. her mind worked in such a beautiful way that you couldn't help but get excited.

a squeal left your throat as your girlfriend finally came on screen. she looked good. really good. you couldn't help but blush profusely as you stared into her eyes in awe, causing you to miss half of her lyrics. you quickly skipped back, though, chewing on your bottom lip out of excitement to hear the words. when your ears finally picked up on the words coming from her between her lips, letting out a quiet gasp as your face got impossibly hotter.

"don't have to guess the color of your underwear,

already know what you've got goin' down there."

a quiet hum fell from between your own lips, a big smile plastered on your face as your eyes continued to follow wherever your girlfriend went on screen. the next line of lyrics made your eyes widen subtly, catching on to who she wrote her lyrics about. did she write them about you? your thighs squeezed together at the thought, breath hitching.

"it's that lacy black pair with the little bows,

the ones i picked out for you in tokyo."

you remember that night very well. when she took you on her trip to tokyo for her tour promo. she insisted on exploring the city with you, explaining in great detail how she wanted to spend the rest of her life with you and how she wanted to experience new things with you specifically. and that eventually led to her dragging you into a mall and taking you into victoria's secret, then surprising you with a pair she wanted you to try on.

she really couldn't get her hands off you when she saw them on you, hugging your hips just right and making her appetite for you even bigger. she wanted to taste you, so that's exactly what she did. right in the dressing room, she ate you out like a starved woman. you couldn't say you didn't enjoy it. the adrenaline you got from the fact that anyone could interrupt you or even accidently walk in made it all the more pleasurable.

she bought them for you without hesitation, and you quickly found out those were her favorite pair. the way the light pink bows decorated the thin, lacy fabric, and the way they fit you just right made her absolutely insane. whenever you would walk around the house in just underwear, she would be right at your feet in seconds, tugging at the fabric in an effort to pull them down.

"i saw them when you sat down, they were peekin' out.

i'm gonna tell you right now they're all i'm thinkin' about."

her words affected you much more than you'd like to admit. the way her plump, pink lips moved to sound out the syllables of each word she spoke, it made you crazy. she was teasing you through the fucking screen, and you couldn't do anything about it right now.

"fuck." you mumble, the end sounding as a whine as your head lolled back onto the couch cushions. she wouldn't be home for another hour, and you knew she hated whenever you touched yourself without her clear permission.

how could you resist, though, when she spoke such filthy words? her tone of voice didn't help your situation, either. it was low and raspy and had just a hint of seductiveness settled in. the way she sang had your heart pounding and your pussy throbbing, eyelids threatening to flutter shut as you continued to watch.

"i wanna try it, bite it, lick it, spit it,

pull it to the side and get all up in it."

you couldn't take it anymore. sure, you could've shut off the video and tried to distract yourself, but you really didn't want to take your eyes off the gorgeous girl. instead, your free hand slid down your body, caressing your own soft skin gently before dipping beneath the waistband of the pair of panties that your girlfriend loved so much.

a choked sigh of relief fell from between your lips as your index finger ran through your wet folds. the hand on your phone only gripped the device tighter, eyes trained on billie as she moved around in the music video. she looked so sexy you couldn't help but moan out into the empty house, hips bucking against the pads of your fingers.

"billie—mhh.." you whimpered quietly, teasing yourself by only dipping the tips of your index and middle finger into your pussy. just like billie would do if she was here. she would call you a slut for getting so worked up just by watching her through a screen. she'd edge you the whole night if she saw you in this position, actually.

"kiss it, bite it, can i fit it?

charli likes boys, but she knows i'd hit it."

the way she moved her head side to side as she sang the lyrics reminded you of the countless times she's done that while in between your legs, eating you out like you were her last meal. she was always so eager to please you, taste you, hear you.

your fingers stopped when you heard the last line, though, pausing the video quickly as a pang of jealousy hit you. that only fueled the fire in your lower stomach. it fueled your urge to further disobey her and make yourself cum over and over again by yourself. you wanted her to walk through the front door and instantly be met with your throaty moans and the disheveled, fucked-out appearance of yourself while you continued to thrust your fingers in and out of your swollen pussy.

the thought alone made you wetter, and this time you fully plunged both fingers inside of your pussy. a moan sounded throughout the house as you tossed your phone to the side of the couch, head lolling back as you spread your legs further out. you imagined they were billies fingers pounding relentlessly into your tight hole, never stopping even whenever you tried to push her hands away.

quiet gasps soon turned into throaty, desperate moans of your girlfriends name. your hand gripped the pillow beside you, bottom lip swollen from all the biting you had been doing previously. the way her hands moved on the steering wheel of the tractor made butterflies swarm in your stomach, her ring-clad fingers making you crave her touch even more.

a thought popped into your mind, your fingers faltering in pace for just a moment before they picked up speed again. your grip on the pillow loosened, reaching around on the couch to find your phone. when you finally grabbed it, you unlocked it and opened up the camera app, pointing the phone down at your thighs. as you snapped the picture, you let out a breathy chuckle as your eyes scanned it. your hand was visible through the thin fabric of your panties, and the obvious wet spot just made your smile bigger.

you didn't think about the consequences before sending the photo to billie with a teasing text, "still thinking about them, or did i wear these for nothing?" then your phone was tossed to the side once again as you got lost in your pleasure, eyes rolling back as you curled your fingers just right and hit that one soft spot inside of you.

it didn't take long for your phone to start vibrating, the screen lighting up with a picture of you and billie and her contact name showing in bold at the top. you would've answered if you weren't so caught up in the need to cum, drowning out everything around you as you got lost in the fantasy of your girlfriend plunging her fingers deep inside of you while her lips wrapped around your swollen clit.

a low whine sounded in the room as you clenched around your digits, bucking your hips wildly against your palm as it continuously grazed your swollen bud. a hand came up to grope at your tit, rubbing your nipple through the thin, white baby-tee you wore. when your fingers curled again, you lost it, letting out a high-pitched moan as your back arched away from the couch cushions. your juices coated both of your digits as you pulled them away after a few moments, whining at the empty feeling.

grabbing your phone once again, you opened the camera app and spread both your index and middle fingers, snapping the photo when the web of your cum was visible. a cheeky, flustered smile formed on your face as you flipped the phone camera. this time, you recorded your filthy actions. you slowly brought your fingers up to your mouth, sticking your tongue out in a seductive manner before placing both of your wet digits on the muscle.

your lips wrapped around your own fingers, and your eyes fluttered closed as you let out an exaggerated moan, tongue swirling around them as you thrusted them in and out of your mouth. billie wasn't gonna be nice tonight. you knew that. but you didn't care about the consequences right now because she was just so fucking fun to tease. she always got so worked up and flustered, you couldn't help it.

you stopped the video after you dragged your fingers out from between your lips slowly, making sure to give billie a show. then, you sent it without a care in the world before placing your phone down on the coffee table. she wouldn't be back soon anyway, so she'd have time to calm down.

— a loud slam echoed through the house, and your lips quickly curved into a mischievous smile as you got off yours and billies shared bed. it didn't take long for her to call your name, the tone of her voice clearly showing off her anger, "y/n, where the fuck are you?"

her eyes darkened as she watched you walk down the stairs like nothing happened. they traveled down your body, catching sight of the panties you wore in the picture you had sent her earlier. she couldn't believe you actually had the nerve to touch yourself without her present. as you stood at the bottom of the staircase, an innocent grin on your face, she bit her lip out of... she didn't even know.

"c'mere, now." her voice was quiet, the tone of her voice laced with anger and lust and emotions you couldn't even catch. you obeyed her commands, skipping off the final step before making your way over to the girl that still stood at the front door. the way your hips swayed as you walked was addicting to billie, her own urges becoming hard to contain. when you were finally in arms reach of billie, you stared into her ocean blue eyes and just smiled, humming as you tilted your head to the side.

she mirrored you, tilting her own head to the side but keeping the same stern look on her face as she analyzed your own. before she spoke, her hand came up to grab your face, her fingers pressing harshly against your cheekbones and causing your lips to part slightly, "you think it's funny to tease me while i'm out workin', huh?"

you stayed silent, eyes darting around her face and admiring her many facial features. the freckles that were only noticeable if you paid real close attention to her. your mind didn't process her question until after she shook your head side to side for a few seconds. you gasped before stuttering out a quiet response, "'ts not my fault. you were the one who started it, bils."

a toothy smile formed on her face, a quiet chuckle coming from between her perfect lips before she spoke, "how did i start it, babygirl?" her voice alone made your knees weak, wobbling for a moment before you composed yourself and spoke up, "the video," you whispered, and billie just scoffed as she pressed harder on your cheekbones.

it made you whine, cheeks flushing a light pink hue as her lips parted to speak again, "oh? was it the video, or was it the lyrics, mamas.?" you only stared back at her with a knowing look swirling in your pupils, and billie chuckled again, "it was both."

you nodded in response, hands moving to paw at your girlfriends close in a weak effort to try to get her to touch you. that's all you wanted ever since you finished the video, "you were the one who wrote those lyrics. you told me to watch the video and you—" you grumbled, and billie quickly shut you up by giving you the look that always made you crumble.

"no, no, it's not my fault. i think it's your fault for being such a needy slut, actually. you only had to wait a few more minutes and i would've been home to relieve you," she whispered, that stupid, sexy smile on her face never leaving, "but you couldn't wait, could ya? such a fuckin' slut you can't even wait to cum. 'm'gonna teach ya tonight how to be patient soon,"

"not tonight, though. you wanted to cum so badly so i'm gonna make you cum," you knew what that meant. yeah, she'd make you cum but she wouldn't stop until she was satisfied. she wasn't gonna stop until you were crying and begging her to stop.

a low whine ripped through your throat as you pouted your lips, batting your eyelashes at billie in an attempt to get out of the punishment. she replied by shaking her head slowly, biting down on her lip as she let her eyes travel over your body, eventually landing on the lacy panties you wore.

"y'look so sexy, mama," she groaned, letting go of your face to grab your hips. she walked toward you, resulting in your own feet taking you backward until the backs of your knees hit the couch and you were forced into a sitting position. billie quickly dropped to her knees, spreading your legs with her veiny hands as she settled herself in between them.

her eyes couldn't decide where to stay, dragging over every inch of your body hungrily as she ran her thumbs along the exposed skin of your thighs. before you could complain, she dipped her head low and began to trail kisses along your inner thigh, so close to where you wanted needed her the most.

as she dragged her tongue up your thigh. you gasped, hands moving around for something to grab onto. she chuckled softly at your reaction, hooking both of her index fingers in the waistband of your panties and slowly, teasingly sliding them off your thighs, legs, and then your ankles. a look of confusion masked your face as she held them for a few moments before tucking them into the back pocket of her baggy jeans, eyes darkening even further as she kept eye contact.

then her hands were back on your skin, the cool temperature of them causing you to shiver as she caressed your thighs once more. she scooted closer this time, licking her lips as she finally caught sight of how soaked you were, "need you, bils. fuck—need you s' bad,"

billie hummed in response, not wasting another second to run the tip of her tongue through your folds, starting at your entrance and stopping at your clit. she repeated the motion a few more times, pleased at the breathy gasps you gave her in return. her tongue dipped into your hole when she licked back down, moaning at your taste as her eyes fluttered shut.

a breathy moan sounded throughout the room as her tongue began to thrust in and out of your pussy, your hands finally finding home tangled in billies hair. your hips instinctively bucked against her tongue, head lolling back onto the cushions just as it did a few hours prior. she was better with her tongue than you were with your fingers, fuck, you could've came on the spot.

"mmh, taste s' good, y/n.." she groans, the words muffled by your pussy. the vibrations of her voice make you whimper, eyes squeezing shut as you feel her tongue delve deeper into you. when your thighs begin to close around her head, she pulls away. your immediate reaction is to whine, hands pulling her close to your core again.

billie slaps your thigh softly, a silent warning not to piss her off as she would only add on to the punishment. when she got close again, though, she spat right onto your clit and then began to rub her index and middle fingers in slow, tight circles, "feels good, huh?"

you only nod, smiling stupidly as you sigh, "yes, yes, fuck yes..!" a moan rips through your throat as she finally dips both of her fingers into your entrance, her pace immediately picking up. the wet squelching sound of your pussy fills the room and billies ears, and she whimpers at the sound.

she fucking whimpers and you think it's by far the hottest thing she's ever done while in between your legs. her eyes are closed, so focused on sucking your clit harshly as her fingers pump in and out of you. the way she whispers soft praises against your pussy drive you crazy, the vibrations just making the whole situation so good.

"'m'gonna cum, mommy—mhh, fuuck.. please? please, need—lemme cum?" your words are jumbled up versions of every sentence you replayed in your head, trying to pick out the best one in hopes that she would actually let you cum on her fingers and tongue. what you didn't expect her to do was continue, but this time curling her fingers each time she reached a certain depth and rubbed against your weak spot, "yeah, mhmm—right.. right there! fuck, please don't stop,"

you didn't care if you sounded desperate right now. you wouldn't deny that you weren't desperate because you were, you were so close to your release, and you needed it. badly. the orgasm that you gave yourself would never come close to the way billie made you cum. she was so skilled with her fingers and her tongue and just everything.

she couldn't take her eyes off your face. the way your nose scrunched up in the slightest and the way your pretty lips were left parted to let out those beautiful moans of yours. your eyelids struggled to stay open, and billie smirked against your heat. she added a third finger, and you almost came on the spot, eyes rolling back as you tugged on her hair harshly.

her moans fell right into your pussy, the feeling of your hands tugging at her black locks both painful and pleasurable, "fits jus' perfectly, mama. wish you could see how well you take me," she mutters, thrusting her fingers in deeper if that was even possible. the stretch stung, but it also felt like the best thing in the world, "c'mon, cum around my fingers, know you wanna."

that was all you needed to let go. the knot in your stomach finally snapped as your thighs trembled, subconsciously closing them as billie continued to thrust her fingers into you, this time at a softer and slower pace. your breathing was erratic, mumbling half-finished sentences and, of course, billies name.

she didn't stop even after you calmed down, though, quickening her pace once she knew you were fully aware of everything going on around you. your eyes rolled back again as you felt butterflies swarming in your stomach once again. the overstimulation only made your thighs shake more, your pussy clenching around her fingers as you tried to protest.

"take it." is all she says, leaning her head against your thigh as she smiled up at you. her thumb took place of her mouth, rubbing tight circles on your clit as her other fingers worked on fucking you hard and fast, "you wanna act like a needy slut? i'll treat you like one, baby." her words only added to your overstimulating pleasure, and now you didn't know what you were begging for.

a choked moan rips through your throat, and now you're releasing all over her fingers once again. your chest rises and falls with each heavy breath you take, body falling limp against the couch as your thighs tremble around your girlfriends head. when you've come down, she finally pulls her fingers out and sits herself next to you. you gasp when she pulls you onto her lap, her eyes hooded and her lip caught between her teeth.

"open," she whispers, her voice laced with seduction. and, so you do, sticking your tongue out and taking her three fingers into your mouth. you wrap your lips around her digits, reaching out to grab her forearm so that she won't pull away. your tongue moves in between her fingers like you did with your own an hour prior, eyes fluttering shut as you moan quietly, "there's my girl. so obedient."

you whine when she pushes her hips up against your exposed core, the feeling of the strap beneath her pants making you grind down on her jeans, "can i fit it in that tight pussy of yours?" she asks condescendingly, raising an eyebrow as she tilts her head to the side. you nod eagerly as your hands begin to work on her belt.

billie just smiles at your eagerness, pulling her fingers out of your mouth before she throws her shirt over her head. her lacy bra barely covers her tits, and you pause for a moment to stare. when she pushes her hips up again, you take the hint to finish what you've started and help her slide her jeans off.

they pool around her ankles, and you bite down on your lip at the size of the indigo strap. it wasn't like you hadn't taken it before. it was the question she had just asked you. before she could even speak again, you lined the dildo up with your entrance, sinking all the way down in one go. your head fell back, a guttural moan echoing in the room as you began to roll your hips slowly.

billie whined quietly at the way your pace picked up quickly, her eyes scanning every inch of your body with a look of hunger swirling in her pupils. her hands moved to your hips, guiding your movements as you bounced up and down on her lap, her cock filling you up perfectly, "jus' like that, yeah. shit, you look even better with my cock fillin' you up, princess."

the new pet name makes you shudder, head falling forward as your hands find their way on billies shoulders to stabilize yourself. your noises are quiet, whimpers and whines leaving you. your legs never stopped trembling even as you sunk all the way down. you cried out in pleasure as billie pushed her hips up, the strap hitting places your fingers could never.

you nod stupidly as her grip on your hips tighten, pulling you down on her strap harshly as you pick up your pace. the quiet whimpers your girlfriend lets out don't go unnoticed by you, a pleased smile taking over you face as you hide your face in the crook of her neck. your lips find her skin, kissing and sucking softly to create very visible marks.

"s' big, mommy—fuck." you moan against her neck, the knot in your stomach already beginning to tighten. it gets tighter each time she bats her eyelashes at you, it gets you so much closer whenever she even speaks a word to you. her lips just look so kissable and fuckable and—

you capture her lips in a hungry kiss. it's uncoordinated and sloppy due to the combined neediness of you both. billie smiles into the messy make-out session, practically devouring your face as she tilts her head to deepen the kiss. you're the first one to slide your tongue over her lips, silently asking for entrance, which she gladly accepts. your tongue explores her mouth, sometimes clashing with her own tongue in a fight for dominance. you have no idea how, but you win.

when you finally pull away, you drag her bottom lip out with your teeth. your eyes are looking straight into hers and, oh my gosh, she could cum from just that alone. a few more bounces on her cock and you're hips ate finally stuttering, struggling to keep up the pace you set as your grip on her shoulders tighten.

"bouncin' on my cock like such a slut, huh. bet you'd do this to any girl in your sight, right?" you shake your head the best you could, babbling something that sounded like, "no, only you." billie just scoffed, thrusting her hips up harder and faster as she holds your own. the slapping sound of skin echoes in the room, followed by the moans coming from your dry throat.

"cum," your chest heaves up and down, eyes squeezing shut as your body falls against hers. your orgasm hits you hard, and you swore you saw stars behind your eyelids as you rode out your high. billie smiles as she feels you fall limp against her, her hands coming to your back to pull you closer to her body, "did so good, mama,"

you nod weakly, eyelids ready to flutter shut once again as you hide your flushed face in her neck. when she thrusts her hips up again, you cry out, "but we're not done yet."

[stylespresleyhearted]

🍻 PUB NIGHT W/ CALLUM TURNER HEAD-CANONS

Warnings: nsfw (minor) but still beware. mentions of callum turner’s wonderful penis, quickies, hickies, and giving him head in a bar bathroom.

This is for all my Callum girlies 🫡 This man has become what I yearn for the past month. I find him absolutely perfect and his accent is sexy and he’s so normal and down to earth and funny and I’m in love. Honestly. Special thanks to all the ladies in my Callum Turner discord chat who talked about how amazing it’d be to be his girlfriend and go to a pub with him. I hope you all enjoy & feel free to come into my ask box to yell about Callum if you feel like doing so.

Masterlist can be found here.

| photo collage created by me.

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• See, Callum’s been so busy doing promo for Masters of the Air and he’s been traveling to different cities and landing new roles. You can’t tag along everywhere; you have school or work or both but he makes sure to call you at least every morning and night and in between he’s texting you silly selfies of what he’s doing throughout the day and keeping you updated. Letting you know he’s still thinking of you even when you aren’t with him.

• He leaves Golo, his dog, with you and demands many videos of him on walks and him playing in the park. Talks to him over FaceTime and makes sure to tell him to “listen to your mum.” He’s also jealous he isn’t home to cuddle with the both of you and he tells you so.

• And when he finally comes home? Everyone is eager to catch up and see him and congratulate him on everything he’s been doing so as much as you wanna drag this man to your bedroom and keep him there, he’s an extrovert and he’s got friends and family to catch up with and projects lined up so he’s dragging you to a pub that isn’t too far from where you live.

• Not before you guys sneak in a quickie though. He takes you from the back, bending you over your make up table and blaming you for getting ready in your bra and panties. This man totally thinks you purposely shape your mouth into an ‘o’ shape to tease him when you’re doing your mascara no matter how many times you tell him it’s a universal girl thing.

• Callum hates when you wear matte lipstick because it stains his mouth and no amount of washing off in the loo will get it off. He also doesn’t like when you wear matte lipstick because you only give him pecks as you don’t want it on your teeth or staining your face.

• He doesn’t mind later in the night when you drag him to the restroom and stain his cock with your lipstick though. He loves it when you’re messy while giving him head. He loves an eager girl.

• You two are the last to arrive even though you arranged the time. There’s some goading from your friends who were all waiting for you but honestly they’re used to your tardiness, especially when Callum’s been gone for more than a couple of days.

• During your tryst he left a hickey on your collarbone and you didn’t bother covering it. Not because he’s possessive but because you loved to feel claimed by him. You don’t care if people think you look “dirty.”

• After greeting everyone he leads you over to the bar and while you wait for the bartender to approach you, leaning on the bar top, he’s got one of his large hands cupping your ass. The. Entire. Time.

• He orders a round of shots for everyone to start the night. There’s a football (soccer) game on and he makes sure to score a seat facing the television with you sat right beside him. He’s got his hand on your thigh or when his elbows are on the table and he’s gesticulating during conversation, you wrap your arms around his bicep and lean your chin on his shoulder.

• You love listening to him talk. Love how his accent thickens when he’s around his mates and it only gets worse the more drinks he has. Sometimes you have trouble understanding him but you nod along and pucker your lips for pecks when he looks to you to confirm some part of his story.

• Callum doesn’t care how many kisses you ask for or if others deem you clingy. This man enjoys all the affection and attention you give him, he loves being loved on.

• Honestly it doesn’t take long for him to say ‘fuck it’ and just pull you onto his lap. Hand on your ass/thigh to keep you close to him.

• Him and his friends talk shit to each other, rooting for opposite teams and your content just being in his presence and watching him relax because you know how much work he puts into his craft.

• The more he drinks, the redder his face gets and his chest begins to get splotchy and he starts to get sweaty but he never tries to detach himself from you no matter how hot it gets. You don’t mind the smell of his sweat or if it gets on you and you have a thing for gently nibbling on the tip of his wonderful dumbo ears as his blushed skin progresses. The first time you nibbled on his ear he thought he had to head to the loo to “take care of you”, he thought it was a sign but he soon realized it’s an affection you bestow on him when you’re drinking.

• Callum presses kisses to the hickey he left against your collarbone. Nonchalantly too, not even to draw attention to it just mid listening to a mate talk he’ll lean over to press his lips against it. You think it’s his way of letting you know he’s still attuned to you, even if he’s in conversation with someone else.

• When your friends finally manage to pull you off his lap and onto the dance floor, he stays in his seat but his attention is split between the conversation he’s in and watching you to make sure you’re okay. He trusts you and he’s confident in himself enough to not be overly possessive he just genuinely wants to make sure you’re okay throughout the night. Doesn’t want anyone spilling their drinks on you or assholes who can’t take no getting too close.

• He holds your clutch/your purse for you to make sure you don’t lose any of your items. And he never complains about keeping it safe for you.

• And you appreciate that he trusts you and lets you handle issues on your own, he truly only steps in when the person isn’t accepting ‘no’ as an answer or being a complete creep.

• You’re the opposite. You trust him but as soon as a female gets to close you make sure to stake your claim. Wrapping an arm around him or asking for a kiss, pulling him towards you and saying “come dance with me, babe.”

• He politely excuses himself from whoever was hitting on him and gives you a knowing chuckle.

• As soon as you’re beckoning him over to the dance floor he doesn’t hesitate to join you. He isn’t shy, doesn’t mind two stepping or grabbing a tight hold on your hips when you throw it back on him to a particularly raunchy song.

• He does blush a bit, but it’s hard to tell because he’s already red from the alcohol.

• You can feel the length and the girth of him against your ass when you press against him. His cock is large and thick and you get wet remembering he didn’t wipe your combined come off before he tucked it back into his jeans after your quickie.

• I will not do this man’s cock justice but we know he’s large. Everything about him is big and his penis head is probably fat, and the tip of it a bit crooked because it’s long and for more mouth watering details read Marina’s cock-versation here.

• When you turn to face him his hands immediately fall to your ass, cupping both your cheeks in his large, warm palms. Your arms around his neck, both smiling at one another all dopey and tipsy and in love.

• If there’s karaoke at the bar you both take turns dedicating a song to each other.

• Maybe even perform a duet.

• You don’t smoke so you don’t join him for any of his cigarette breaks but he only heads out after asking if you’ll be okay or if you need anything from him before he heads out.

• He comes back and wraps himself around you, smelling of cigarette obviously, but you tuck your nose into his neck and breathe deep where the smell of pure him still lies. Sweat and musky and the cologne he sprayed on.

• Callum always asks if he can kiss you after smoking because he knows the taste of cigarettes is overwhelming sometimes and you don’t smoke. Sometimes you cringe your face afterwards and it always makes him laugh. He’ll throw an arm over your shoulders and pull you in and say “sorry, love.”

• He doesn’t mind that you take loads of selfies of the two of you or photos of him or videos to keep in your camera roll. He’s always ready with a funny face or a kiss. (Or he flips off the camera - his go to pose.)

• Throughout the night, he continuously tells you how sexy you are, how pretty you look and that he knows he’s a lucky bastard to have you.

• You’re the one always making sure to order glasses of water at the end of the night. He doesn’t get drunk often and he’ll mostly stick to his Guinness, but you’re prone to waking up with hangovers after one beer.

• If you’re refusing water, he has the bar tender pour them in shot glasses and has you thinking it’s liquor. He finds you cute as hell and is watching you with a huge smile the entire time.

• There’s always a detour on the way home - a stop at your favorite pizza spot a block away from your house. If you have any of your friends with you, Callum makes sure to herd all of you like sheep and get food and water in all of you. He listens to the drunk girl conversation and goes along with anything you say.

• Once your home he helps you take off your lashes and your make up. He knows you always complain and feel bad the next morning when you sleep with it on because you break out. If you’re sober enough to do it on your own he’ll just watch you. Not wanting to get in bed until you’re in bed too.

• He makes sure there’s water on your nightstand.

• Throughout the night he’ll end up detaching from you (even though you always follow) but your first sleeping position of the night is always him curled around you as you back into him. He goes to sleep cupping your boobs because he says they keep his hand warm and he likes the feel of them. He’s a man and boobs are fun okay?

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