#i've gotta build my nails strength back up

[doom-dreaming]

hngnngnfmfngng I miss painting my nails

just.......so so hesitantly.....if I were to do a Halo nail art series like I did for Borderlands........which characters would you want to see? Obviously I'd do major characters like Blue Team and Cortana and The Arbiter etc. etc. but....What About Others? give me ideas....

[harmshake]

Featuring: Roman Reigns x Fem Black Reader Word Count: 1.2k Warnings: 18+, NSFW, smut, and Roman being a bit of a sub because we love giant, mean men who are only soft and sweet for you. 🥹

Happy reading! Read more of my Roman fics here, if you'd like! ✨

There was something beautiful about humbling a man, a big man like him, putting him in his place. A place that he was happy to be in, no less. On his knees, between her legs, and begging for what he wanted because he knew even with his strength and size, he couldn’t just take it. He had to ask for permission.

“Why you gotta tease me?” he asked instead after a while of his begging went ungranted. His tone husky, low, nothing short of a stubborn huff as she slipped her fingers through the loose, long crop of hair atop his head. Her thumb caressed down the side of his face, gathered in her hand to grip the thick, grayish beard he'd been growing out and trying to make messy with her wet that his lips hovered near. Dark eyes hovered, too, first on the pretty, pink, sweet thing he so badly wanted to taste, before they flooded up the swells of her delicious body laid before him.

“Why you gotta be so greedy?” she asked back, a soft smile on her plump lips as she looked down at him. All those muscles bulging from the width of his shoulders, the large curves of his biceps, and his big, handsome head between her thighs that kept them spread...and yet he didn’t shove his way through to her pussy. Because he was a good boy who listened well. His hands were curled into the sheets at her sides where she commanded they remain instead of on her as if he held her with those strong fingers smoothing wide and firm over her hips, they'd cinch to keep her in his grasp, those long fingers eventually finding their way to curl inside of her before she was ready to cum. Something Roman craved to lap up with his tongue, she could damn near see the drool in his mouth when he went to speak again.

“Think I've waited long enough to eat, baby,” he said quietly as she massaged his scalp in big, slow circles. A groan just as quiet seeped out of him, perhaps from his impatience but likely from her touch. Her other hand was free to massage and touch herself, her red, coffin nails glistening and delicate fingers sticky with her wet that she only allowed him to admire the sight of as she swept a lone fingertip along her clit. She groaned back, a fleeting, little whine as the warmth of that good stroke simmered through her, Roman's breath rolling over her warm, too, somewhat of a soft kiss to her pussy that he was huffing and all but pleading to devour.

“Just watch me. Enjoy the show,” she smirked before she moaned again, hips tilting up ever so slightly with a flutter of her pussy she caught with the swirl of her finger, watching him watch with his eyebrows weaving together like he felt that flutter, too. Like it felt good to him, listening to him pant with desire to be the one who made her flutter, to be the one who sipped on the string of wet that flutter made drip down to her satin sheets.

But she knew what patience and control could do to the mind, the body. The will bended and shaped to satisfy time before pleasure, that time rewarding the pleasure that builds and ebbs and flows until it runneth over. Roman let his dull nails rasp at the sheets, restlessness whitening his knuckles, white teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he studied the art of her playing with her pussy in small doses, feathered rubs and taps, nothing that would push her over the edge. That was his job tonight, the duty of his tongue that slid from between his lips to lick at them before he puckered them together for a swift, trembling kiss to the backs of her fingers. Another silent plea before his words came out kind of strained with a hoarse laugh.

“Just one lick, baby. I’m dyin’ here.”

“No.” She lifted that finger that dribbled with her essence and made a slight trace on his full, soft lips with it until it became his favorite flavor of gloss, his tongue darting out before she yanked at his silken hair, tugging back to expose his Adam's apple shift in a gulp and breathy moan. She almost giggled in his face. What a needy, little, big man.

And while she was needy for him, too, she wanted him to not eat her like a starving man but like a distinguished gentleman who knew the delicacy of his meal was meant to be savored, experienced. She gazed into his eyes as he gazed back, that demand no secret between them yet she clarified once again as she pulled at the root of his hair, heard him grunt, and declared, “You'll eat this pussy when I say so...got it?”

“Yes, ma'am,” Roman uttered quickly, a gruff, tiny stutter of a chuckle escaping him. Something to shake off how badly it turned him on for a small woman like her telling him what to do, she was sure of it. She released him with a soothing of her fingers through his hair again, observed him nuzzling the crown of his head to her palm with his eyes closed before she made them pop open with her fingertips to his lips again, beckoning him to open. He understood to do it carefully, allow her to guide her fingers over his moist tongue, glide her wet along it, let her chin fall in a single nod so he could suckle his lips around her, tongue soft and waxing between her fingers to clean every crook of her flavor from them for him to swallow. His eyes almost faltered shut again, relishing in her as she expected to see, and she knew right then that he was ready.

With a bite of her lip as she adjusted beneath him, thick thighs laid flat on the bed, cool air grazing her valley of heat that Roman's eyes feasted on as she arched her back just so and mumbled sweetly, “Eat, baby,” he finally dipped his head down. 

Steady eyes still fixed on her, seeking her approval, as his tongue fixed flat with a press to her pussy, a slow thrust in, a couple shallow, long flicks, if only to feel her throb, before he licked up to mimic those feathered rubs and taps along her clit with the widened tip of it. Roman was careful to pull back slightly when she whimpered from a flutter he caught with an even slower lick as his massive hands settled onto her waist, gripping tight until the fine hairs of his mustache caressed her skin along with his lips smudged to her, tongue easily slipping from side to side to taste every groove of and around her clit.

A warmth that sparked like fire shot through her, shooting a moan from her throat that Roman echoed as he purred with relief into her. Such a mighty man humbled and pleased to please her, it felt right. Heavy strokes of his tongue that followed the whispery sound of her pleasure, followed by the whisper of his fingertips as he trailed them down the outer lips of her soft, soaked pussy. Coy pushes until he seated two of them knuckle deep, a complement to his tongue seated on her sweet spot that tingled with the flames of a potent and close orgasm.

She petted his head, quivering thumb at his cheek to skim as he observed her subtly shake, subtly cry to him, “Mmnn, fuck...that's a good boy.”

. . .

Humbled, Part 2

Thanks for reading! This isn't wasn't intended as a direct sequel to Humbled, but the vibes are the same and it fit so why not?! Join my tag list here, if you wanna. ❤️

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[john-kramers-left-sock]

Inktober Day 7: Drip

Pairing: John Kramer x Reader

SFW

(This is the edited version because I changed the direction of my story)

"Come on, there's no one here. Let's just take a quick look," your boyfriend of six months, Sam, encouraged you and your friends to step through the gap in the chain-link fence. The abandoned warehouse towers over your entire group, covering the moon and casting a dark shadow on the land around you.

"I don't know about this, guys. What if we get caught? There have to be cameras or something around the property. I mean, it's not like we're the first ones to try this," Emma, your best friend raised her concern to the group. It was mainly met with eye rolls and a couple of groans.

"You gotta be kidding me. It's just an old warehouse. Wait, are you scared that it's haunted or something?" The bad boy of the group, Eric, snickered slightly. He wrapped an arm around Emma, mocking a ghostly moan. "Woooo I'm the ghost of of a warehouse worker named Bob! I'm going to bore you to death by talking about my kids and my erectile disfunction!"

"Knock it off, Eric. It's fine for people to be freaked out with this kind of thing. I mean, it's pretty dark out," Ben gently pulled Eric away from Emma, his brows slightly furrowed in concern.

"It's Halloween night! What's better than going to a creepy, abandoned building? Who knows, we coulf find a body or something," Sam replied with a smirk. He looked at you, a grin on his freckled face. "Besides, (Y/n) is pretty good at this urban exploring stuff, right?"

"Well, I've only done it once before. It's not like I'm an expert," you awkwardly attempt to explain to your friends, rubbing the chills from your arms. "We should just be careful. If it seems dangerous, we'll just leave. Besides, I'm sure an old building like this has interesting history."

"Yeah yeah, we don't need a history lesson. Let's just get inside. It's gonna start raining soon," Eric pushed his way past you and Sam, crawling under the gap in the fence. One by one each person slipped through, making it to the imposing warehouse before them.

"Wait, there's no lock?" Emma said in a surprised tone as the group gathered in front of the large doors. It was clear that it had been chained up before, but not right now. "We should head back, someone might be in there."

"No chance. There's not a single car around and the front gate is still chained up. Maybe the last people who snuck in left it unlocked. Let's go," Sam pulled the door open without questioning, waiting for everyone to enter the warehouse.

As you enter, you catch the sign nailed to the outside wall. DO NOT ENTER is printed out on the metal shape, years of wear leaving it covered in rust. Your instincts tell you one thing, but your curiosity wins out in the end. You enter the warehouse, watching Sam shut the door behind you.

'Damn, it's dark in here. Stick close, guys," Ben pulled out his phone, turning on the flashlight and shining it across the room. It doesn't look very special, with worn furniture scattered across the room and rusted tools on the floor. The rafters creek on their own and a dripping sound can be heard in the distance. "I was expecting it to be more... Terrifying."

"Well, maybe this is just a front. Who knows, there might still be some stuff hidden around here. Let's look around," you suggest, looking over every detail. The group stays close together, checking each room. Most of it was empty, having been cleared out when the warehouse was shut down. As you continued, the dripping noise got louder and louder.

"Woah, look at this," Ben speaks up after shining his flashlight to the right. The light hits a large metal door. It was solid and heavy, almost like the entrance to a vault. Ben approached it first, pressing his ear to the metal. "I think I hear that dripping coming from in here."

"Now you're talking. Move, I'll get it open," Eric rolled up his sleeves and grabbed the handle. He pulled with all of his strength, expecting it to be locked. However, the door swings open, sending him to the ground with a thud.

"Are you ok?" Emma rushes to Eric's side, kneeling to check him over. Her lips purse in concern when she sees a scratch on his arm. "That looked like it hurt. Hold still, I have a bandaid."

While Emma tended to Eric, you, Sam, and Ben approached the large door. Glancing inside, the room was empty, but far cleaner than any of the place in the warehouse. You step inside, hearing the dripping coming from the ceiling. Liquid would form on the surface before dripping down to the floor below.

"That's weird, this is too dark to be water," you mumble to yourself as you step inside the room, holding out your hand. After catching a drop, you gaze down at the substance. It looks to be red, and a strong smell of iron hits your senses.

Suddenly, the metal door slams shut, locking behind you. You whirl around, panicking as you bang your fists on the door. "Guys?! This isn't funny! Let me out!" You yelled, trying to twist the handle. From the other side, you can hear small dull thuds and yelps, before an overwhelming silence hits. "Guys...?"

No one responds to the sound of your voice. You stand there in silence, thoughts racing. Just when you think that this is some messed up dream, you hear a voice from the corner of the room. A speaker sits on the ground, a raspy voice muttering through it.

"Hello (Y/n), I want to play a game."

[shiningdesignersreflections]

Chapter 2: Match Day Already?

Narrated by Nikki.

Teacher: Anna, Wen, Nova, Nikki, and Yvonne, will you spare a few minutes for me?

Narrator: The roll call before the dismissing set off doubt and nervousness among classmates. I lowered my head so no one would notice.

Nikki: Could it be that I was not acting properly during class...

Teacher: Tell you what, I've signed up for the campus five-member soccer match.

Teacher: Don't freak out, as the match won't be too formal. But you should work hard and display the strength of teamwork.

Everyone: Eh? What? But that's... I'd rather you give me another three kilometers...

Narrator: There's an outburst of complaints as my teacher finished the sentence. Even those dismissed classmates looked back.

Choose either "A match on such short notice. That's so mean!" or "Go, Nikki!"

If "mean," ...

You: A match on such short notice. That's no mean.

Nikki: Actually, our teacher might be hoping we can build up our strength. Still, this is too quick. I'm at a loss.

If "support," ...

You: Hahaha, go for it, Nikki!

Nikki: Guess what, I'm always the last one to finish the long-distance race because I'm not that into sports.

--

Teacher: Nikki, you lack stamina, but you are nimble. Say, you will serve as the goalkeeper. Teamwork is everything.

Teacher: So, we'll start training tomorrow!

Narrator: My teacher was not that bothered by those complaints but promised us the participation can offset the final exam.

Narrator: After the first week of training, going upstairs and downstairs seems impossible.

Wen: Owww, ouch! My legs...

Nova: Can't go downstairs without the wall.

Yvonne: I don't want any more froggy jumps or leg stretches. I miss you, three kilometers.

Anna: Nikki, why are you walking alone behind everyone? Do your legs hurt badly? You need any help?

Nikki: Oh, not really. I just... haven't got enough sleep. Thank you, guys.

Yvonne: All those trainings and classes, you gotta take more rest.

Choose either "I went through something similar" or "I feel for you."

If "similar," ...

You: I can relate. The body can really ache all over after intense activities.

Nikki: Haha, then you should know how I felt.

If "sorry," ...

You: Poor thing, hang in there.

Nikki: My teammates would encourage me and show care for me. If it wasn't for them, I wouldn't have stuck it out.

--

Nova: Woah, Nikki, you secured that one, too. I practiced the fake move of penalty kick for a week.

Nova: Sure enough, we are talking about Nikki's Triple Saves! You will nail the defense.

Nikki: No, no! I was just lucky...

Yvonne: Nikki, you did a great job. Put more faith in yourself. Also, Nova, make sure your fake move goes smoothly...

Anna: Wow, Captain, could it be that you've analyzed the matches for the past decade? You are almost as veteran as the teacher.

Wen: Nikki, Captain, let's go to a movie after the training. Consider it a reward for hard training!

Nova: Hahaha, you can always find a reason to reward yourself.

Narrator: ...

Choose either "You're so happy" or "Nikki's Triple Save?"

If "happy," ...

You: You guys look you're having a lot of fun.

Nikki: Yes, we do, when we are with friends. I even look forward to the daily training.

If "save," ...

You: "Nikki's Triple Save"?

Nikki: That's the nickname for my defense move. Sounds pretty tough, huh?

--

Narrator: There were a lot of things like this going on. Tough as those days were, I felt it full and enjoyable.

Narrator: I had been all by myself before I joined this soccer team.

Narrator: It was the first time I had known how it felt to work so hard with friends.

Narrator: If only time could stop right during the preparation for the match.

Narrator: But reality's a different thing. It still went on with the established course.

Narrator: The match day finally came.

Chapter 1

Chapter 3

[final-girl96]

Radioactive Spider Bite

Peter Parker x Reader

Warnings: language, vilonce, muture content? Maybe later on?, jealousy, death, idk its marvel... slow updates.

A/N: please don't be rude. Feed back is welcome but be kind. If there is any little details you would like to change to fit your style and personality please do so. This will also be on my WATTPAD along with all my other stories. This begins with Civil War when Peter comes home to find Tony Stark there. It will go to Homecoming, Infinity War, End Game, Far From Home, and then when No Way Home is out and I watch it the story will continue as long as there is a new movie with Spider-Man.

Word Count: 1122 words

Captian America: Civil War

Chapter Two

Mr. Stark walked over to Peter's desk. "Whoa, what have we here? Retro tech, huh?" He said. "Peter's a nerd," I said. "Hey! I am not," he said pushing me a little. "Thrifty store? Salvation army?" Stark asked Peter. "Uh, the garbage, actually," Peter said. "You're a dumpster diver?" Mr. Stark asked bluntly. "Yeah, I was... anyway, look, um, I did not apply for your grant and either did y/n..." Peter said but was cut off. "Ah-ah! Me first," Mr. Stark said loudly. "Okay," Peter said.

"Quick question of the rhetorical variety," Stark said holding his phone up. A screen projected from it showing Peter or "Spider-Man swinging by a guy on his webs. "That's you, right?" He asked. "Um. No. What do you... what do you mean?" Petet stammered. "Yeah," Stark said flipping his phone as another video came up. "Look at you go," he said. "Wow! Nice catch. 3,000 pounds, 40 miles an hour. That's no easy. You got mad skills," Mr. Stark said and brought up another video. "And this... this is both of you," he said. The video showing Peter and I swinging together the day he was showing me how the web-shooters worked just in case I changed my mind.

Peter had his stupid suit he made on and I have black leggings and a tight long sleeve black shirt with my hair up in a ponytail and a simple black mask that went over my eyes. I had my arms around his neck and my legs wrapped around his waist while his one arm was securely around my waist. He had been talking to me and explaining everything step by step. I squinted at the stilled frame and shook my head. "Nope. That... that is not me," I said and looked at Mr. Stark. "Really? And I guess this isn't either?" He asked showing another video of me swinging by myself. I shook my head "nope. Nope, definitely not me," I said.

"That's... that's all you YouTube, though, right? That's where you found that? Because you know that's all fake. It's all done on the computer," Peter jumped in. "Mmm-hmm," Stark hummed. "It's like that video. What it is?" Peter said looking at the projected screen in front of us as Stark looked around. "Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. Oh, you mean like those UFOs over Phoenix?" Stark said as he took a broom handle and pushed open the crawl space door on the ceiling. Peter's suit falling out on a rope. "Oh, what has me here?" He said. Peter jumped in front of him and grabbed him. Turning his back he shoved it into his closet.

"Uh..." Peter let out leaning on the wall nodding his head. I sat on his bed and flopped back laying down. "Awkward," I said and Peter glared at me. Mr. Stark walked over to him. "So. You're the Spider-ling. Crime-fighting spider. You're Spider-Boy? And you're what? Spider-Girl?" He asked. "No. I'm y/n," I said and rolled my eyes. "Spider-Man," Peter said crossing his arms. "Not in that onesie, you're not," Stark said. "Ha!" I snorted out laughing at that. "It's not a onesie," Peter said and walked over to pick the broom handle up. "I don't believe this. I was actually having a really good day today, Mr. Stark. We didn't miss put train, this perfectly good DVD player was just sitting there... and Algebra test, nailed it," Peter said now standing by his desk. "I'm pretty sure I failed it," I said sitting up.

"Who else knows? Anybody?" Mr. Stark asked. I and Peter shook our heads. "Nobody," we both said. "Not even your unusually attractive aunt?" Stark asked. "No. No. No! If she knew, she would freak out. And when she freaks out, I freak out," Peter said. "That's true he does," I said looking at Mr. Stark who was sitting on the end of the bed in a chair. "You know what I think is really cool? This webbing," Mr. Stark said and threw the little thing he had the webbing at Peter who caught it without looking. "That tensile strength is off the charts. Who manufactured that?" Stark asked.

"Peter did," I said. Mr. Stark raised his eyebrows as he looked over the suit. "Climbing walls, how you doing that? Adhesive gloves?" He asked. "It's a long story. I was..." Peter started but stopped cut off by Stark. "Lordy! Can you even see in these?" He asked holding the goggles up to his face that were attached to the suit. I bit my lip so I wouldn't laugh as Peter glared at me. "Yes. Yes. I can," Peter said taking it away from him and putting this in the small closest. "I can see in those. Okay? It's just that when whatever happened, happened... It's like our senses dialed to 11. There's way too much input, so they kinda help me focus," Peter said.

"You're in dire need of an upgrade. You too," Stark said looking at me. "What? No!" I said but he ignored me. "Systemic, top to bottom, hundred-point restoration. That's why I'm here," he said and leaned against the wall. Peter sat beside me on the bed. "Why are doing this? I gotta know, what's your MO? What gets you outta that twin bed in the morning?" Stark asked. "Me. I get him outta bed," I said. "And you, why don't you do what he's doing? Why are you Spider-Girl?" He asked.

Peter looked at me and looked back at Mr. Stark. "Because..." he stammered a little. "Because I've been me my whole life, and we have had these powers for 6 months. I read books, I build computers. Yeah, I would love to play football, but I couldn't then, so I shouldn't now," Peter said. I forward my eyebrows he never told me exactly why he was doing what he was. "Sure, because you're different," Stark said. "Exactly. But I can't tell anybody that, so I'm not," Peter said. Stark looked at me then and raised his eyebrows. I sighed knowing I wasn't getting around this at all and I was going to have to explain why I wasn't out there with Peter in so ridiculous suit fighting crime.

"I'm not a genius like Peter is. I can barely pass my classes. I wouldn't be passing them if it wasn't for him. I'm more street smart and I'm artsier than him. I take pictures and draw and I don't draw pretty things, I draw dark messed up things. Peter follows the rules and I don't. So what business do I have out there saving people's lives?" I said looking down at my hands.