#i need her biblically

[just-friend-a]

That shot of Vi looking up at Cait as she’s kissing down her chest is gonna be the only thing I can think about for DAYSSSS

[uwuttaker]

jodie whittaker photographed by michael wharley

[thelosstvalkyrie]

her nose looks so rideable… WHO SAID THAT 😨

( my pics)

[abbysslvt]

I need her so fucking bad it's crazy

[k3n-dyll]

Sub!Ellie with a Breeding Kink[drabble]

|| Men, minors and ageless DNI

CW: AFAB reader, sub!Ellie, dom!reader, just brainrot so not really proofread, no y/n usage, Ellie calls reader "mama" kinda, strap on

Word count: 313 Masterlist Divider Creds

Ellie with a breeding kink but she's also so, so submissive to you.

She'd look at you crazy if you said that she couldn't feel when you sank down on her strap, your juices already starting to gush down the black silicone shaft. Ellie would swear on everything that the feeling was real. She could feel your walls pulsing around her, sucking her in so deep that you start to see stars. The girl would moan like she could feel it too

"Please ride me, baby, yes - ohmygod"

Those green eyes would be fixated on your cunt, watching intently as you stretch yourself on her girth. The poor thing doesn't know where to focus when you start moving, every part of you looks so perfect bouncing on top of her. Using her to make yourself feel good. It takes everything in her to keep her hands to herself, as she was told to "look not touch". She hated when you tortured her like this but she's such a good girl that she suffers, her long fingers gripping at the bedsheets no matter how badly she wants to grab onto your hips or your waist, or those perfect fucking tits of yours.

"God, you're so fucking perfect...so perfect- fuck" she'd murmur through heavy breaths, her hips unconsciously grinding upwards to meet you halfway. Her thrusts only become harder the more the base of the strap bumps against her clit at the perfect angle. "Wanna get you fuckin' pregnant"

She'd get so delusional about it too. Of course, she's well aware that she can't, but in the moment, she'd die trying if you let her. Mumbling and begging like a madwoman. Her voice cracking, tone becoming more and more pathetic as she pleads with you through gritted teeth to

"Let me make you a mama, baby, please... lemme fuck a fuckin' baby into you"

Ugh I need her so bad lol

[caitlinclarkismakingmeweak]

This picture does something to me

[wileys-russo]

AMC I am free on Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday-

[provolonwe]

just finished dungeon meshi oh god oh dear

[blueeye0racular]

Someone fucking sedate me.

[eloiscbridgerton]

random eloise bridgerton: 50/?

[elliespeach]

every time i look at this picture i start blushing and my heart starts beating really fast and i get giggly and my palms get sweaty and my legs start shaking and my pussy starts quivering and and and and and and and and and and

[yourbasicqueerie]

lilia calderu, pls i beg u just one chance 🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏

[acupofqueercoffee]

i am looking hungrily 🤤🤤🤤

[whoreforred]

Intoxicated Confessions

Summary: Tony threw a party for Sam's birthday, but Natasha was out of town on a mission.

Warnings: None. Fluff :)

AN: This has been sitting for a while and kind of sorta is a part 2 for Needs. I can't help myself with the fwb trope. But this is a precursor to something more spicy if I ever get around to writing it

Tony threw parties like no one else. It became even more apparent when you became an Avenger. Sometimes it was every other week that the lounge would be decked out from floor to ceiling in extravagant decor, as if there was something to celebrate. Most of the time there wasn't. But living the lifestyle of an Avenger meant stress. Lots of stress. So hardly no one complained about the frequency of such vivacious events. It was nice to let loose. This week though, it was Sam's birthday.

You would show up to the parties typically later than your coworkers; giving them a chance to loosen up before you made your appearance. You always hated the awkward conversations that you found yourself in when everyone was still sober and finding who they wanted to go home with that night.

Lucky for you, you knew who you would be in bed with. You and Natasha found yourselves slipping out of the party early on more than one occasion - trading the loud atmosphere for one that was more intimate.

But tonight wasn't one of those nights. Of course, Natasha had to be given a last minute assignment earlier in the week. She shared in confidence her annoyance at the abrupt change of schedule.

"Why is it always me who suddenly has to get on a Quinjet to fly to the middle of nowhere? No one else can hack a damn computer?" She gruffed as she moved around her room to pack her mission bag.

"No one else is as good as you, Nat" you replied with a small smile, attempting to change the tone of the conversation.

Natasha didn't reply right away as she stuffed her duffel bag tightly and zipped it shut. She turned towards you and said, "You know I was actually looking forward to the party. It's Sam's first birthday with us." She turned back towards her bag making sure it was closed all the way. She began again, "Plus I like watching you drunkenly pretend you're not staring at my ass." She let out a small giggle and looked over her shoulder at you. You smiled and felt your cheeks get warm.

"It's an easy mission, right? You might make it back in time."

"Maybe. We'll see."

So here you are. Perched on a bar stool stirring your drink around like it was a game. The ice clinked against the glass, over and over. The chance that Natasha would be here before the party ended dwindled. You were sure she was out there kicking ass, while you lazily sipped your vodka. You thought the situation was backwards. She should be the one relaxing, not you. Suddenly someone grabbed your shoulder.

"Hey Y/N, why don't you stop pouting and come hangout with the rest of us?" Wanda teased.

You raised an eyebrow and threw back the rest of your drink before saying, "I wasn't pouting, for your information." You began to stand up to follow Wanda.

"Whatever you say", she threw her hands up in mock surrender, "help me grab some drinks before we head over there."

You helped Wanda bring over the drinks to your friends who were sitting on various couches and chairs, each engaging in several conversations at once. The chatter stopped once they saw you holding the booze they requested.

Thor quickly grabbed two out of your hands and mumbled a thanks before relaxing back down. You offered Sam one and sat on an open chair to join the conversation.

Hours, and many drinks later, the night had come to an end.

Natasha slung her duffel bag over her shoulder as she approached the elevator. It was almost five in the morning and she couldn't wait to get in her bed. She pressed the button for the lobby and sighed as she let her body relax a little. She wondered how the party went and quickly pulled out her phone to check her text messages. Part of her was hoping to see a text from you, but instead she got one from Wanda from earlier in the night. A selfie with you to her side, sticking your tongue out, and Sam further back making a face at you.

Natasha smiled to herself then put her phone away. She stepped into the elevator and kicked herself for missing out. She would have to get the recap from you tomorrow. Surely you would be sleeping.

She walked down the hallway to her room but stilled briefly when she realized her door was slightly ajar with the lights on. She slowly creeped up and pushed the door open more, not sure what to find on the other side.

Her eyes quickly locked onto the figure sprawled out in all directions on her bed. You. And atop your head you were a sporting a party hat that belonged to Sam.

She dropped her bags and couldn't help the way her lips curled up into a smile. You had come to wait for her, but fell asleep in the process.

She walked over to rub your back and found your phone laid a few inches away from your hand. The screen was still on and upon further examination she realized it was open to your text messages, with one in the process of being written out.

'Miss ur face nat. Im drink. I mis yo'

The half written message made Natasha giggle a bit before pushing your body over to make room for herself. At that you began to stir, the party hat slowly dropping over your eyes. You pushed it out of the way and squinted to adjust to the light. Once your eyes caught glimpse of the red hair you immediately began to crawl to rest your head in her lap.

Natasha whispered a "hello" and you looked up at her, still clearly intoxicated, and mumbled something that sounded like "wanted to wait for you".

She took a second to study the way your hair fell around your face, then locked eyes with you again when she saw your mouth open to speak again.

"Can I stay in here?" You said slowly. She pulled you closer and replied "of course". You buried your head in her neck and began to feel the arms of sleep take over you again.

Natasha stroked your arm while fighting with herself internally. Natasha knew there was something more between you two than sex. And she had known it for awhile. But she agreed to keep things strictly sexual. There was no room for anything more complicated than that in your line of work. She had never been with anybody like that. How would it work? What if you didn't want to pursue something like that in the first place?

She turned off the lamp you had left on earlier and let her eyelids flutter shut. She needed to tell you how she really felt, soon.

[writersblockiskillingme]

Nightmare | Johanna Mason

Pairing: Johanna Mason x fem!reader (District7!reader)

Summary: The past still haunted you, but it could kill you if you lost her this time.

Warning/s: light angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, mentions of Johanna's torture, nightmares, panic, tears, Johanna's ax, short fic, this is honestly more like a short blurb (I'm sorry), possible grammar and spelling mistakes

Author's note: I wrote a fic that contains this concept, too. It's called District 7, so if you want to go check it out. Enjoy!

Request -> Hi :) can you write Johanna x fem!reader where the reader wakes up from a nightmare that Johanna dies or something and Johanna isn’t in bed. Reader is panicked and has a meltdown searching through the house to find her. Johanna ends up coming into the house (Johanna was just chopping wood outside or something because she was having a hard time sleeping because trauma) to find her on the floor in total distress. Just need two traumatized girlies to find love and comfort in each other 🖤

Thank you 🖤

The nightmares were never-ending. They plugged into your every dream depriving you of the much needed comfort and calmness.

Even now as you slept, tightly wrapped up in the sheets, an additional blanket that Johanna threw over you in fear that you would be too cold, practically disappearing from the amount of pillows, the nightmares left claw marks deep in your soul and mind, not letting you rest.

You saw yourself in a crystal clean room, the whiteness leaving the painful reminder of the white roses that now, thankfully, dead Snow always carried everywhere he went. You whipped your head around at the painful scream that ripped itself through your ears making the painc in your chest start to rise. Your breath shortened and quickened. You felt like you couldn't breathe once you got the glimpse of what was happening in front of your eyes.

Johanna's tortured body was laying on the bloody table, all sorts of to you unknown medical tools surrounding your lover. She was tied to the table with at least five belts, stripping her of the ability to escape the horrors that caught up to her.

You ran as fast as you could, trying to reach her as you continued to desperately call out her name over and over again like a record player. But you saw yourself hit something invisible, blocking your way to your loved one. The force field. The realization and the sight of Johanna's torture caused you to continuously bang your hands against the obstacle on your way, separating her and you.

Your screams mixed with Johanna's and you felt so suffocated, you felt like you were dying. Just like Johanna was. And there was nothing you could do about it. You couldn't move, you couldn't help her, you couldn't stop her everlasting torture. You couldn't take the pain away. No matter how much you wished to do so.

You woke yourself up from all of the screaming, your hand immediately reached the sheets that covered the other side of the bed. However, your fingertips found themselves grazing the coldness of the empty space in the bed.

You immediately kicked the sheets off of you, trying to escape their hold and the comfort that they never gave you unless Johanna was there with you. And she wasn't. Johanna wasn't here.

You frantically searched the house, looking at every room in the house, calling her name in pure distress.

You searched every corner and the time seemed to stand still, increasing your hysteria.

Once you finally reached the kitchen, finding it empty, you felt yourself falling. You slid down on the floor, your shoulders shaking as you cried. Your breath short, but quick nevertheless. Just like it was in your dream.

And perhaps Johanna is actually dead.

The everlasting dread filled every inch of your body as you realized that maybe your dream wasn't a dream, maybe it was your reality. The reality you were forced to live in. Maybe Johanna never made it out of the Capitols clutches. Maybe she died on that table. Maybe she never left that white room while she was still alive. Maybe she never left it at all.

Your panicked crying and the beating of your heart that reached your ears were the reason why you didn't hear her enter.

Johanna was in complete shock as she stood frozen by the doorway, watching you have a mental breakdown. She loved you more than anything, she loved you more than life itself. That's the reason why she immediately understood what was going on with you.

"Y/N!" Johanna called out as she quickly fell down on the hard, wooden floor as she immediately brought you into her arms.

"Johanna," You heard yourself gasping as you gripped her arms that tightly wrapped themselves around you. "You're alive. You're here."

"Of course, sweetheart," she answered, cooing you as she started to slowly sway both of you. "Where else would I be?"

"I-I had a nightmare," You began, your voice still being overpowered by your sobs. "I had a nightmare where you...y-you d-di-"

"Shhh," she shushed you, placing a delicate kiss against your forehead lovingly. "I'm here. I'm okay."

"You're okay."

"Yes, brainless," Johanna chuckled lovingly, looking down onto your face, her, now freshly grown, bangs brushing against your cheeks. "We're both okay. I'm never leaving you. You're not that lucky."

"Johanna I swear to God!"

->

->

->

TAGLIST:

@caroline-books @thecrowdedstreetin1944

[leahsgf]

my legs are taking inspiration from my parents and divorcing actually!