#snakes are really cool you guys
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
panpteryx · 2 years ago
Text
Oh yeah so they are! I was mostly thinking about exotic pet care guides, which (due to reptile YouTubers) I suspect may be the primary way people find out about snakes and other less-appreciated species. They do have a tendency to blur the lines between “common, not endangered, native to [local region]” and “uncommon, at risk from poaching, native to [far away region]”? At least, the guides I’ve seen usually only mention foods other than rodents if the snake might have difficulty recognizing frozen/thawed rodents as food.
The conflict between “reptile YouTube spreads awareness and appreciation for species people typically consider to be distasteful” and “yeah but their information is often inaccurate and the husbandry is poor 90% of the time so is the appreciation worth it”, I guess
….though now I’m wondering if my ball python would like an egg as a treat, they eat a lot of birds in the wild and I’d be surprised if they didn’t eat the eggs too. guess I’ll do some research lol, chicken eggs *are* pretty big so they might not be safe, but maybe quail…
This is a gentle reminder to those who keep poultry to PLEASE keep in mind wild snakes if you are using fake eggs in your chicken coop. Snakes are incapable of digesting the wooden/plastic/ceramic fake eggs that are commonly placed in chicken coops to train hens. Snakes (like this little ratsnake here) can and often do eat these fake eggs and suffer life-threatening obstruction as a result!
Tumblr media
If you need to use fake eggs in your coop please strive to ensure that the enclosure is snake-proof (difficult) or superglue 3 or more eggs together so that snakes cannot consume them and become obstructed.
#snakes are really cool you guys#but also maybe double check the regions#and also animals in the wild invariably have behaviour a thousand times more varied than those in captivity#imo it’s the responsibility of any pet owner to provide an environment where the animal can do as many of those behaviours as possible#and also make sure the animal is being sourced in a way that doesn’t hurt the wild population#bc like. I actually think many good things come out of the exotic pet trade?#having thousands of eyes on a species means we’re going to learn things that would never have been possible to discover otherwise#and also let’s be real here habitat loss and climate change hurts the wild populations a thousand times more than the pet trade#so live capturing is more the icing on the cake/another small stressor on top of all the ones they’re already having a hard time with#rather than THE one danger to wild species#(live capture for the pet trade that is)#but still like. pets should be a two way street.#trade offer: ​you get [enjoyment of animal]: animal receives [safe environment with no predators and consistent access to food]#if the animal is gonna be stuck in a drawer and doesn’t have opportunity to perform natural behaviours and not all of it’s daily needs met#then it isn’t getting anything from the bargain and that’s just like. unfair.#which is why I generally advocate for keeping species that (in the wild) are already frequently found around human habitation#(like my mourning geckos which have a really wide range and are frequently just straight-up found in houses)#or that you can be absolutely positive you’re able to keep in a situation that’s a close enough facsimile to wild#that they can perform the vast majority of their natural behaviours#(which should also be a goal for the common species)#….and like. I’m including cats/Guinea pigs/rabbits/dogs in this#bc they ALSO have a lot of care requirements that are often not met even though they’re domesticated#….and for that matter humans too actually#humans in ‘the wild’ are highly social tenacious semi-arboreal problem solvers that alter their landscapes heavily to suit their needs#the current trend of keeping them in 10x10x8 boxes and making them interact with hundreds of strangers every day#and not letting them manipulate their environment unless they ‘own it’#is just straight-up inhumane! they should have everyday climbing opportunities and more predictable social structures and more enrichment#how do you know they wouldn’t use it if you don’t give them the OPPORTUNITY to use it#…..anyway yeah#……I may have opinions on this
41K notes · View notes
mostofthingsmostofthetime · 7 months ago
Text
My thoughts on The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes movie
I don’t know if I liked it as much as the original films (maybe Mockingjay 1 & 2 as they are pretty emotionally draining), but I still enjoyed it.
I think where it fell a little flat for me is 1. The beginning was a bit slow (tbh I only really started getting interested when Lucy Gray stuck that snake down that girl’s dress & even then I enjoyed the story more when the setting changed from the Capitol to the district) 2. I knew Snow would survive 3. I’d already been spoiled online for a lot of stuff that happens & 4. while I know the director did his best to make Snow as “likeable” as he could for as long as possible, even before he started getting “a little too comfortable” with killing & snitching I didn’t find him as sympathetic as Katniss or Peeta (but that is probably again down to the fact that I know what he goes onto do & there’s no real way around that), this made engaging with him difficult for me.
The world is fascinating. Getting to see all the new locations we never had access to before as well as old locations now in a totally different light (for example district 12 which, while still clearly suffering, seemed like such a bustling industrial town compared to how it is in Katniss’s time). It might have a much more retro aesthetic but there's also just a more vibrant, natural, wild & lawless atmosphere to this movie compared to the others in the franchise. The whole scope of the film just felt more cinematic then I remember the others being yet also weirdly intimate. Maybe because it was one contained story & we knew the main character’s fate from the start. I also loved the title cards signifying the start of each section of the story like from the books & wished they'd done something similar for the other films. It just added��a certain flair to the whole thing. Almost gave it the vibe of a tragic play.
The costuming was great. The bright red of the academy uniforms.  Flickerman’s snazzy suits. Snow’s dapper black & white outfit. Both peace keeper uniforms (despite one of them giving very ‘1930’s Germany’ vibes) looked great. Grandma might have been a bigot, but at least she was well dressed. Everything Dr Gaul wore (except the top that looked like a used tampon, lol) was exquisite. The main ladies of fashion, Tigris & Lucy Gray slayed. Our Future Capitol stylist looked like some regal yet exotic bird & Miss Survivor was giving Bohemian, country girl realness the entire time she was on screen. Even the extras were serving (like that random couple Snow walked past on his way to the reaping ceremony).
The music was amazing. Every song that played was fantastic (shout out to Olivia for her end credit contribution). The lyrics & instrumentation were beautiful & my god does Rachel Zegler have pipes! Anyone who says the singing scenes are cringy is just stupid like I’m sorry you can’t appreciate art. Also, the words ‘ballad’ & ‘songbirds’ are literally in the title. Plus, Lucy Gray is from the poorest district, so what exactly do those people want her to do in her free time? She can’t exactly hop on an X-box for a few hours. Not too mention that (as the offspring of someone who’s musically inclined) I can tell you, it’s completely realistic for a musician to use their craft to help them deal with trauma & Lucy Gray clearly had more than her fair share of that.
The Grandma'am helped to paint a sadly very realistic background for Snow. As who among us hasn’t met at least one delusional old person who thinks that their/their group’s suffering (regardless of the severity of it or the reason behind their former/newer status in society) means that no one else are deserving of even the tiniest shred of humanity & there are some people who are unlucky enough to not only be related to these people but be raised by them.
Hunter schafer as Tigris is clearly the superior Snow when it comes to things like empathy & overall mental stability but I do kind of wish they’d been more for her to do. Credit where credit is due though her & Tom did actually look like they could be related & I did buy their familial bond (which makes her appearance in Mockingjay so much sadder in hindsight).
Peter Dinklage as Casca Highbottom was a bit of a mix for me just due to his purpose as a character & the limit of film as a form of media. Like sure the audience know that Snow’s going to become an irredeemable monster in the end but without a window into his mind it really does just seem like the Dean is just out to get him & even when we find out why it seems kind of unfair. Like sure his dad sucked but haven’t the Games shown that blaming children for violence caused by others is unjust (& like ok he hates Coriolanus & probably the grandma but Tigris hadn’t done anything to deserve living in poverty, as she can’t control who she’s related to)? Plus, it felt like he could have at least tried taking Snow under his wing at some point to try to hinder Dr Gual’s influence. Saying all of that, though, Peter Dinklage is great at playing an addict with depression & the idea that some drunken rambling could lead to such long-lasting suffering is terrifying. Also its pretty realistic that living with that kind of guilt & in such a cruel environment for that long would make most people jaded & bitter, even if they did have good intentions.
Omg we finally get a Mayor family on screen & they’re assholes! Madge would be so disappointed 😭. It was interesting to see how harsh & overall “boot licky” the mayor & his family seemed compared to decades later, which makes sense as the war wasn’t that long ago for them so the dad probably felt more incentive to align himself with the Capitol as well as not feeling very connected to the district people as 12’s decline probably didn’t fully set in until they really started running low on coal & Snow became president (oh I just know he wanted to blow that district off the map 😆). I also wouldn’t put it past Billy to come up with some sob story of how he really does love Mayfair but wicked Lucy Gray is somehow preventing them from being together. Still no excuse to try to send her to her death twice in one week, though. Definitely not a girl’s girl.
Ok, so a liar. Cheat. Drunk & someone who hits women. Is there anything good about Billy Taupe? Also, trying to get your ex back, while your current girlfriend is literally standing right next to you? Dude, have some god damn back bone! You made a choice, now stick to it. Also, fumbling Lucy Gray, for a girl like that? What’s it like having no brains or taste? Well, too bad, coz you’re stuck with her forever now, lol.
Viola Davies, the actress that you are. What else is there to say? Dr Gaul is almost comic book levels of insane. Like she is how the Right see women in STEM, on crack! I don’t know what she did to get into character, but whatever it was, it worked.
Jason Schwartzman as Lucretius Flickerman is a very interesting addition to the story despite playing such a small & seemingly insignificant role. He is strange in how unthreatening he is while also extremely blasé about the abhorrent violence he witnesses that it’s as funny as it is disturbing. Making him come across as  more human yet harsher than his son, who at least pretends to care about the tributes (in a very Capitol way, obviously but still). There’s also a polish & confidence to Tucci’s performance that I think Schwartzman did a great job of avoiding copying (despite knowing what audiences were probably expecting) because not only are their characters in entirely different stages of their careers but the whole ethos of the Hunger Games is different in Snow’s youth than it is in Katniss’s. Caesar is a well established presenter & during his time, the games have always been a success (minus the year with the tundra) that the entire Capitol is invested in & seemingly in support of. On the other hand Lucretius had the unique task of not only coming into a job like this with zero experience (I mean imagine going from announcing the weather to presenting the fucking hunger games) but also there were no vibes to try to emulate let alone guidelines to follow because he truly was the first person to do this. On top of that, the "event" his presenting has been panned for years as both boring & unethical. Schwartzman brought a slightly awkward, experimental, yet try hard vibe (like a comedian who's desperate to get a laugh) that I think worked wonderfully for the character.
Tom Blyth's performance was great & he was visually perfect for a young Snow (the power of a good wig! Who knew lol). Even having the cool, analytical stare of Donald Sutherland, down pat. While his appearance was very Eminem during his peacekeeping days, his realisation in the cabin and subsequent breakdown in the woods were crazy. There was so much tension between him & Rachel in that scene that for a second, it literally felt like all the air had been sucked out of the room. I could almost hear the record scratch for both of them, & all that building paranoia finally coming to a sudden crescendo in the way that it did? Pure cinema!
Josh Rivera, as Sejanus, was honestly a mix for me. Obviously, I agree with his morals, but his way of going about it did seem a little dumb. However I do think it’s pretty realistic that a teenager, especially a rich one, would be rather naive. Also I’ve heard that he’s smarter in the book & I think at times my frustration with him is more just down to the fact that I’m seeing him from Snow’s point of view. Meaning scenes that would be portrayed as noble in any other film instead come across as almost painfully inconvenient because the focus is always on how they affect Snow rather than the actual victims of the situation. Lastly, sorry, Snowjanus shippers, I just don’t see it (especially on Snow’s end), but whatever floats your boat.
Rachel Zegler played Lucy Gray with the perfect mix of natural charm & emotional vulnerability with clear pride in her culture & a refusal to let the world around her change who she is. Yet there was also an air of mystery & a subtle resilience to her that makes her potentially surviving out in the woods for years without being detected actually believable (though I don’t buy the theory that she went on to become president Coin). Definitely the highlight of the movie for me.
PS. I'd love to know what you think of my review in the comments/tags & am open to criticism (as long as it's respectful) just remember that I'm only talking about the movie so please don't reference anything spersific to the book.
41 notes · View notes
dweeborea · 5 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
Anotha ref.
This time, Day! His outfit colourscheme gave me trouble for a while LOL Also he's outside of my typical designs in many ways... So he's the first character with a tattoo (you can tell...) and multiple piercings and lots of jewelry. Dang, he's a pioneer!
I'll probably work on Pen next?
3 notes · View notes
zoebelladona · 10 months ago
Text
i think i'm gonna have to rewatch these last two episodes to come to terms with them and the themes of the show because so far my reaction has been
Tumblr media
5 notes · View notes
cyrsed · 1 year ago
Text
you ever think about how mainstream gaming is the way it is bc it evolved from arcade games?
#like the focus on Skill(tm) that values reflexes/reaction time/competition/speed#obvs there's other influences too tho#like rpgs#and then there's a sorta parallel thing going on with early computer games (remember when Computer Games and Video Games were different?)#w people like cyan wanting to make 'video games for adults' lol like myst#and there's always been artsy games and stuff but mainstream-wise i just think sometimes about how like#strange (neutral) it is that you have this medium that's debatably art but also like. not always considered by players or devs to be art?#in a way that books and movies aren't /exactly/ altho there's comparisons to like blockbuster movies for sure#esp bc i think about how the people making a lot of mainstream games were guys who grew up in the 80s/90s and loved 80s action movies#and got to make worlds where you play as those action dudes#like obviously snake who's not even trying to not be snake plissken ghlskdjf#resident evil also obvs#or isaac being inspired by whatshisname in die hard#ther's an implicit power fantasy#but also it opens up interesting artistic/storytelling paths that other mediums can't explore as easily?#isaac is an interesting example of it imo bc of the tension between his ultra-masculine voice/hyper-competence/cool suit#and 1. the survival horror setting but also 2. the fact that he's actually incredibly brittle & the impression#of him we get is based on assumptions when really his independence/determination is a flaw & his 'togetherness' was a facade the whole time#ofc the way it gets expressed in ds2/3 feels like it's still limited by sexist ideas about what emotions men are allowed to express#and how imo#but idk i think it's interesting to play with that#and in an interactive setting you get to do that in a way that other media can't#but back to my original point lol#those are (imo) really interesting things that do get explored sometimes#but like gaming culture at large sometimes feels like it#explicitly rejects reading anything deeper into a game than 'hero shoot bad guy'?#and i feel like in part that comes from what players value and gaming culture puts Skill really high and can sometiems treat story/characte#like set dressing#(obvs there are exceptions)#(and it makes sense i mean. it's a Game it's supposed to be Fun To Play
4 notes · View notes
cezulian · 2 years ago
Text
I’m glad to know that at some point after the events of “Aspirations”, Ace obviously learned to play guitar but I have no doubt in my mind the first thing he ever wrote was about the events of “Aspirations”. Homeboy absolutely made the gang sit down and listen to him play it and it was probably like the most brutal, uncomfortably honest, no two ways to interpret it, stream of consciousness song ever and afterwards he said “Pretty cool this just popped into my head, right? Hahaha just came outta nowhere! Music is easy 😎” and the rest of the boys don’t know how to kindly tell him it was the most insane shit they ever heard.
They were expecting a fun cool jam from their best friend who is learning an instrument and what they got instead was literally
14 notes · View notes
spiffyspidr · 1 year ago
Text
I love all of them, so they shall never be unloved
Tumblr media
32K notes · View notes
cicadianrhythm · 2 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Fisk's house snake (Lamprophis fiskii)
It's going all out for the caution tape toupee look.
1 note · View note
yo9urt · 3 months ago
Text
omg i want a snake tattoo so bad
#mine#preferably an ouroboros ive been wanting one of those for years#but before i get it i should figure out what i want it to look like and where it will go bcause even though ive wanted one for so long#i still dont really know the details lol but the other day i saw a pic of one where it was lik#one neat loop of a snake and then a wriggly snake that was wrapped around it and they were both eating their own tails#i thougtht at was so cool so maybe id do that but where would i put it? hmm#snakes are jut so cool idk im scared of them but theyre baller as fuck plus i was born in year of the snake so it fits#ohh maybe i could get them wrapping around my arm or something#as like a figure 8/infinity. that would be cool i thnk#hae i ever told u guys 8 is my favorite number...i like it because you can flip it around and it turns into infinity which i think is a rea#ly baller property for a numbre to have#7 was my favorite when i was a kid i would probably say its my 2nd favorite now#after that probably 9 i really fuck with 9 it feels like a warrior#after that maybe ummm. i think 1. 1 is a good classic number everyone fucks with 1#after that 5. another classic number plus i can put it at 5th place for maximum satisfaction#the other ones are all mostly unremarkable to me and fyi im only talking 1-9 right now#0 is another story and once yu go past 9 theres too many to think about#i do like 28 tohugh thats another good one. 808 is also really cool fuck kanye though for real i judt like how it looks
1 note · View note
clown-bug · 1 year ago
Text
why couldnt I have been born in a place where winters aren't 6 months long and little snakes and lizers rove about waiting to be my new friend
0 notes
sincerely-sofie · 5 months ago
Text
Many thanks for the tag @asimplearchivist! The post was getting a bit long, so I cleared the reblogs.
coffee or tea (hot chocolate for me!) | early bird or night owl | chocolate or vanilla | spring or fall | silver or gold (brass) | pop or alternative (I just like what I like, haha!) | freckles or dimples | snakes or sharks | mountains or fields | thunder or lightning | egyptian mythology or greek mythology | ivory or scarlet | flute or lyre | opal or diamond | butterflies or honeybees I macarons or eclairs l typewritten or handwritten | secret garden or secret library | rooftop or balcony (I'm scared of heights lol) | spicy or mild | opera or ballet | london or paris (Homebody) | vincent van gogh or claude monet | denim or leather | potions or spells | ocean or desert | mermaids or sirens I masquerade ball or cocktail party
some tags of my own: @oblonger, @aria-the-derg, @battyaalllday, @onlyhereforghosttrick, @billycorn, and @stingraywipe along with all you shy guys who would love to join in!
Thanks for the tag @steven-grants-world (we won't go into how giddy I get when I'm tagged in something!)
This or that…
coffee or tea (neither!) | early bird or night owl | chocolate or vanilla | spring or fall | silver or gold | pop or alternative | freckles or dimples | snakes or sharks | mountains or fields | thunder or lightning | egyptian mythology or greek mythology | ivory or scarlet | flute or lyre | opal or diamond | butterflies or honeybees I macarons or eclairs l typewritten or handwritten | secret garden or secret library | rooftop or balcony | spicy or mild | opera or ballet | london or paris | vincent van gogh or claude monet | denim or leather | potions or spells | ocean or desert | mermaids or sirens I masquerade ball or cocktail party
no pressure tags: @marieziffer, @jewelsrulz, @diplomaticprincess, @wrenwithapen, @witch-oftheflowers, @lunar-ghoulie, @coneygoil, and anyone else who wants to because I hate forgetting people! Do it!
#reblog games#This was so much fun! Though a few choices were kind of already made for me.#Don't drink coffee and I dislike tea; I'm allergic to most macarons; and I also don't drink alcohol so a cocktail party would be... yeah.#As for the choices I *DID* make:#I love hot chocolate! It's a drink I make myself pretty often when I sit down to write.#I'm an incurable early bird despite the insomnia. I live in a house of night owls. Help Me.#Fall vs. Spring was a tough choice--- but I get excited about weather warming up vs. cooling down. So spring it is!#I love tarnished brass so much you guys it's not even funny#I don't even know what is defined as pop vs. alternative these days. I just listen to what I listen to!#A tough choice: freckles vs. dimples... fun fact: I have dimples on my ear lobes! Folks thought I had my ears pierced years before they wer#Snakes!!! I love snake motifs!!!!! Sharks are cool too but I like snakes and their faces :>#The mountains........ I feel my swiss heritage calling me.......#I like thunder but I hate lightning!#Don't get me started on Greek mythology. I *WILL* ruin the Hades/Persephone ship hype for you and everyone listening.#Love the off-white of ivory! <3#I would love to learn to play the lyre someday. Guitar will have to suffice for now.#Opal's not named “Opal” for no reason :>#Bees are my fave animal though I always hesitate to answer with them when asked!#Mini eclairs are my natural prey. You have been warned.#I don't like my handwriting ;w;#I love gardens!!!!#I could tell you tales of my fear of heights as an infant.#I love spicy foods. They don't love me back :<#Ballet yields a lot of good reference pics for poses! But both it and opera creep me out.#I'd prefer a staycation hehe!#Van Gogh's work influenced me in many ways.#*rhythmic chanting* DENIM DENIM DENIM DENIM---#Potions are cooler than spells. Sorry wand-lovers :<#Deserts just have such a cool aesthetic... sorry ocean. You're still cool in my heart.#I've got a number of stories about mermaid AUs. I don't know why. I don't even really like mermaids that much.
161 notes · View notes
spencerreidenjoyer · 3 months ago
Text
guess | spencer reid x reader
Tumblr media
wc: 2.3k, rating: explicit/18+
tags/warnings: slight exhibitionism/voyeurism, alcohol consumption (reader is not drunk during sex), lingerie, munch!spencer, cunnilingus, vaginal sex, unprotected sex
a/n: heavily inspired by guess by charli xcx ft. billie eilish, specifically billie's verse. yes the song dropped yesterday. yes i listened to the song once and decided to write a fic about it. i'm insane about s7/8 reid rn so :) (also posted on ao3!)
You swear you don’t mean to show off, but the miniskirt you’re in doesn’t help your case in the slightest.
Spencer had told you to join him at the bar for drinks with his coworkers, the bar just a couple blocks down from the club you were at with your friends. Your boyfriend had been away for most of this week and you really wanted to see him, so you don’t think twice about popping by to see Spencer. Besides, you hadn’t seen Penelope, JJ and Emily in a while either, and those girls treat you too kindly.
You realise how skimpily dressed you are when you walk into the bar, though, when you approach the very properly-dressed group of FBI agents at a booth in the corner. Your top is cropped and low-cut, revealing your cleavage, and you were wearing a little black miniskirt, the hem of which barely skirted the tops of your thighs.
Spencer has never commented on your fashion choices, often being the very satisfied recipient of your sometimes revealing outfits. But as you greet the BAU, his eyes are dark and hungry as they roam your figure. You smile at him with a whispered “Hi, baby,” before you kiss him chastely. The look on Spencer’s face is unreadable, other than the fact that you know he appreciates the view.
His gaze darts up at Derek from across the booth when he whistles at you.
“Looking good, mama.” Derek waggles his eyebrows at you, earning him a smack to the chest from Penelope and a hearty chuckle from Emily.
You lean over to hug JJ, Penelope and Emily in that order on the other side of the table, and you feel Spencer’s hand quickly snake across your waist, pulling you back to sit down. You glance over at him briefly, but he only keeps his gaze straight ahead.
“You are one lucky guy, Reid,” Emily laughs, and you feel Spencer’s arm curl around you tighter, pulling you in closer.
The rest of the night is pretty fun, cracking jokes and talking with Spencer’s team, but with the alcohol in your system from earlier, it only takes a few more drinks for you to get drunk. You’re extra giggly, half-sitting in Spencer’s lap, his hand not leaving your side. You feel the rumble in his chest when he speaks, saying, “I think we’re going to head home first. This one here seems a little drunk already.”
“I’m not drunk,” you lilt, rolling your eyes. You lay your head on Spencer’s shoulder, blinking hard before you meet Penelope’s gaze. You hear Emily defending you about how you aren’t drunk, but Penelope smiles at you and says, “I think boy genius is right.”
You frown deeply, almost comically so. “Penny! You’re supposed to back me up here!”
Penelope laughs, always so kind to you. “Come on, honey. Let Reid take you home.”
You huff, crossing your arms like a petulant child. You don’t notice the way Spencer’s gaze darts down to your chest shamelessly. Derek whistles, and you assume Spencer must glare at him because Derek is raising his hands in surrender, telling Spencer he doesn’t mean anything. What were they even talking about? You don’t know, but Spencer is murmuring in your ear about getting a taxi home, and after you say goodbye to all of his friends, you’re letting him guide you out of the bar and into the cool night.
You shiver, the very little fabric you have on not doing you any favours when the temperature drops. Spencer is quick to shrug off his jacket and help you put it on. His jacket is long enough on you, considering Spencer’s height, to cover your skirt.
“I swear alcohol’s supposed to warm you up,” you grumble, holding your arms close to your chest as you try to stay warm. “I’m fucking freezing.”
“You feel warmer for a bit because the alcohol is a vasodilator – it causes the blood vessels under your skin to dilate, increasing blood flow, which makes you feel warmer. If you drink more, the higher levels of alcohol actually work to shrink your blood vessels instead and make you feel cold. Do you have a headache?”
You shake your head, but take the chance to snuggle up to Spencer now. “You feel nice and warm.”
“Good,” Spencer says, holding you close. In no time, he flags down a taxi, and you two pile in and drive towards his apartment.
Spencer’s hand is drawing circles into the side of your thigh, mindless, but the touch is incredibly distracting. You ask him softly, “You’ve been touching me all night, Spence. Something on your mind?”
“You,” he whispers back. “Can’t stop thinking about your underwear.”
You squeak at his brazenness, smacking his chest. “You– Spencer!”
“I got a good look when you were practically bent over the table just now,” Spencer continues, his voice a low rumble in his throat. “Didn’t even give me a chance to guess.”
You gape at him like a fish, but Spencer smiles and murmurs in your ear, “You know how much I love when you wear that lacy black pair.”
You bite down on your lip, trying not to moan like a whore in the back of this taxi. You just look at him, silently wishing he’d do something. Spencer presses a kiss to your jaw, and you feel your cheeks heat.
Thankfully, the driver is quick to announce that you’re at your destination, and you and Spencer stumble out of the cab quicker than you’d like to admit. Spencer doesn’t even wait for his change before he slams the car door shut.
Spencer crowds you against the back of the elevator, an old, rickety thing with no camera, so you feel less bad when Spencer slips his hand under your skirt and past your panties, his finger sliding between your wet folds. “Spencer!”
“You’re so wet for me already,” Spencer groans, kissing down your neck desperately. His fingers are so tantalising, rubbing up against your clit, your hole. “You’re so sexy.”
“Spencer,” you whine. “Hurry up and fuck me.”
The elevator doors creak open on Spencer’s floor. “Let’s go, then.”
Spencer barely locks the door behind you before he’s kissing you, eager and sloppy and desperate. It’s so hot, his large hands on your waist pulling you closer to him, and you feel the growing problem in the front of his pants.
“Spencer,” you moan. You feel his hands push up your skirt, feel him wedge his leg between your thighs. You must be soaked through your underwear by now, and you shamelessly rut your hips forward to grind against his leg.
“You know I love your fashion sense, my love, but this is slutty even for you.” Spencer’s voice is dark when he says it, and you whimper. “You’re dressed like you want somebody else’s attention.”
Your eyes widen and you look up at him. “No!”
“Derek was eyeing you like a piece of meat earlier. Emily, too.” Spencer frowns.
“I only want you, baby,” you insist, holding onto Spencer’s arms. “Only want you to notice me.”
“I am the only one who knows the colour of your underwear,” Spencer hums, his fingers skirting the waistband of your panties. “And fuck, you look good in them.”
“Please, Spence,” you whine, your plea lilting off into a gasp as Spencer lifts you, getting you to wrap his legs around him. You’d seen how he looked when he was younger, so scrawny he looked like he’d get swept away if the wind blew too hard, but now, he’s got more meat on his bones. His body is a pleasure to look at, let alone feel under your hands, which you’re happy to do now.
You touch the firm lines of his body through his shirt, as Spencer carries you to his bedroom. You mumble, hands frisky, “You’re so hot.”
“Says you,” Spencer smiles. “I’m going to make you feel so good, baby.”
You grin as he lays you on his bed, gasping when he slides his palm over your wet cunt through your underwear. His thumb flicks over your clit through the lace, the material dulling the electrifying sensation. you whine, “Spencer, please.”
Spencer tsks, looking down at you. “Let me take my time with you, darling. You’ve been teasing me all evening.”
He presses his thumb against your clit a little harder, making you moan loudly. While he tends to tower over you in bed, you also deeply appreciate the view of him getting on his knees so he can make a home between your thighs. His hair is wild, unruly, and you run your hand through it, admiring it. Keeping your gaze, Spencer leans down to kiss your pussy.
You feel his warm breath on you, the scratch of his stubble on your skin, pinned down simply by his gaze as his tongue darts out to lick you over your underwear. You whimper, as Spencer wraps his arms around each of your thighs, using you as an anchor as he presses his face between your legs.
You sob, because what Spencer’s giving you just isn’t enough, not when you need to feel his tongue on your cunt. He thumbs at your hole through the fabric, dipping into your wetness in a cruel approximation of the pleasure he usually gives you.
“Fuck me,” you groan. “Take my panties off already.”
“Not yet,” Spencer hums. Instead, he pushes your panties to the side, lets his fingers slide over your cunt. You gasp at the sensation, his rough, calloused fingers sliding over your wetness, and then you feel the warmth of his tongue.
The sounds his mouth makes as he eats you out are filthy, obscene. His tongue flicks over your cunt with a practised precision, familiar with what makes you tick, the wet, slick sounds too overwhelming. Your toes are curling with how good Spencer makes you feel – legs trembling, breathing heavy. You can’t stop the whimpers that leave your lips, almost helpless in the way you moan for him.
“Please,” your voice is shaky as you cry out for Spencer. “I need you so bad, baby."
Spencer hums against your cunt, the vibrations sending shocks up your spine in your pleasure. “Okay, my darling.”
Finally, finally, he’s sitting up and pulling your panties down, your little skirt still pushed up to expose your cunt. You look up at him, silently wondering why he hasn’t taken it off. He plays with the soft fabric in his hands almost absentmindedly and says, “I think we should keep it on.”
You blink up at him, not coherent enough to say anything about it. Instead, you watch him take his shirt off – you whistle at the sight, while he just rolls his eyes. He unbuckles his belt and push his pants down, his cock bobbing up, hard and red and leaky. You bite your lip, thinking about how he’ll feel inside of you.
“Kiss me,” you whine, and Spencer smiles at you. He tastes of you when his lips press against yours, and he’s quick to deepen it, his tongue in your mouth, like he's close to devouring you whole.
While he kisses you hungrily, you feel his hand between your legs, moving to line himself up with your entrance. You moan as the blunt head of his cock presses up against your hole, the sensation you’ve been craving all evening. Cruelly, he rubs up against you just like that, sliding between your folds but not giving you the satisfaction you need. You’re close to biting his head off.
“Spencer–” you start, but Spencer decides to press his cock into you right at that moment, and you sob with the way his thick length splits you open. Every time he fucks you, you feel like he was made for you, filling you up in all the right ways, feeling so perfect on top of you, inside of you.
You meet his lips and kiss him lazily as he starts to thrust into you, at the perfect pace, just deep enough to hit all the right spots. It’s too good, Spencer knowing you and your pleasure like the back of his hand.
“Fuck,” Spencer groans against your mouth, finally showing some sign of his unravelling. “You’re so tight, darling.”
You gasp, groaning his name, legs wrapped around his waist to pull him closer, feeling like you could fuse into one person with how much you’re clinging onto him. You press your forehead to his shoulder, moans punched out of you with every one of Spencer’s thrusts.
“Feels– Feels so good, Spence, love you,” you cry.
“I love you too,” Spencer groans, voice low and rumbly in his chest. “You’re so perfect, my love.”
You sob as your orgasm hits you, crashing into you like a tidal wave. You shake as you come, feeling so positively overwhelmed with the way Spencer fucks you, the way he holds you, the way he kisses you. You can’t feel your legs as you come down from your high, head spinning with all the pleasure. “Spence…”
“I’m– Fuck–” Spencer’s tripping over his own words as he comes right alongside you, your clenched pussy sending him over the edge too. He blows his load deep inside you, sticky and hot and so satisfying. You can feel how hard he’s breathing as your mind clears, his arms trembling as he holds himself up so he doesn’t end up collapsing onto you.
“You’re perfect,” you hum in Spencer’s ear, soft and gentle as you kiss the side of his head. You pull him in close, letting him rest his weight onto you, and your hand goes to stroke his hair softly. “So good. I love you.”
“Thank you. I love you more,” Spencer groans, his voice a little raspy already. “I’m sorry if I was too possessive over you in front of my friends tonight."
“All is forgiven, especially since you were sexy as fuck,” you grin up at him. “You’re always sexy.”
“Says the girl in a miniskirt and black lace panties.” Spencer smiles.
“All the more I know what I’m talking about, then,” you giggle, before kissing him slow.
2K notes · View notes
i-am-a-fish · 5 months ago
Text
I really like that they call it a cucumber. it's such a funny name for a funny looking fruit. I know some people think it's a vegetable, but it has seeds in it so I guess that means cucumbers are fruits. if I can be honest I think the whole "has seeds inside = it's a fruit" thing is kinda dumb. I feel like fruit is more of a vibe thing than a scientific thing. avocados don't really feel like fruit but technically they are. I don't know.
hey you've been reading my post for a bit, thank you for that. there isn't much to this post but I hope it's somewhat enjoyable. I saw a really cool snake the other day. snake pic below ⬇️
Tumblr media
I know it's not a super high quality image or anything but I was going for a late night walk and I saw this guy slithering around. I really like snakes, I think it's super cool how they move around. they move so unconventionally but they're really fast and they can even climb things. this snake isn't dangerous but I wasn't sure of that at the time so I took the picture from a distance. I think that's the safe thing to do.
I hope you have a beautiful rest of your day or night, whatever time it is for you right now.
2K notes · View notes
heich0e · 5 months ago
Text
iwaizumi got a lower back tattoo on his 21st birthday.
if you showed one hundred people in the street a photo of 30-year-old hajime, and then surveyed them as to whether or not they think he has a lower back tattoo, it's unlikely more than one of them would say yes—and even the one who did probably just misheard the question. it's as unbelievable a thought as any, and still somehow it's true.
he was 21, legally drunk for the first time in america, and hanamaki and matsukawa had finally come to california to visit him to mark the occasion. it was kind of a stupid trip, they realized afterwards, because issei and hiro were still only 20 and couldn't even go out to the bars near UC irvine that all of iwa's college friends were inviting him out to for the first time.
but he didn't mind.
he bought them beer and sugary canned cocktails from the convenience store near campus using the birthday money his nanay sent him, silently repenting in his mind as the store clerk in the polyester vest rang the expensive purchase through. then they all got drunk in iwa's tiny student apartment while they played video games, called oikawa, and eventually wandered out into the warm california night in search of food.
the details beyond that are fuzzy, but the lines inked into the little space at the bottom of hajime's spine are not—even after nine whole years.
most people have no idea about the tattoo—and hajime has gone to great lengths to keep it that way. he wears a compression t-shirt at the gym so there's no risk of it riding up and accidentally revealing it. he orders patches to conceal it on the rare occasion he goes to onsens. he never showers with the athletes at work, always either opting to shower at home, shower after the team, or use the staff facilities when available.
but in spite of all of that, he's not embarrassed of it.
he doesn't even really regret it.
it's just not anybody else's business.
the ink on his skin is a secret kept between him, matsukawa, hanamaki, the guy who tattooed him, and oikawa who was screaming on facetime in the background while it happened.
and now you, too.
your hand snakes up the back of hajime's sweatshirt as he stands at the stove preparing breakfast, cool fingertips tracing the curls of ink even without seeing them—having long mapped them to memory. hajime suppresses a shiver, not expecting the contact, as you crowd yourself closer to his back and lean your weight against him.
"i was trying not to wake you," he says quietly, the hand not holding the chopsticks he's flipping his omelette with reaching behind him in search of you.
"you didn't," you murmur into his back, catching his seeking hand in yours and twining your fingers together. "smelled food."
hajime laughs to himself, his eyes crinkling. he squeezes your fingers tightly as his heart thuds in his chest.
underneath his sweatshirt, your nails rake lightly against his skin.
"shouldn't i be making your breakfast?"
hajime transfers his omelette to the plate waiting beside the stove, flicking off the burner and then turning to face you. he wraps his arms around you and holds you properly now, your face burrowing into the collar of his hoodie the way you always do, his nose brushing your temple.
"wanted to let you sleep a bit longer," hajime grunts out, his cheeks burning a bit hot—still shy, sometimes, even after so much time has passed. "thought you might be tired after..."
you snort, your head popping up to look at him. "after you fucked me within an inch of my life into the wee hours of the morning?"
the fire burning under hajime's skin grows even hotter. he splutters a little, and struggles to meet your gaze.
"i'm not tired," you whisper, a mischievous smile tugging at your lips. the incorrigible one he fell in love with. "we were celebrating, after all."
hajime's eyes are burning a little bit, to complement the stinging in his cheeks. you lift your hand up to his face so you can feel the heat of his skin, and he rests his own hand—larger, more calloused than your own—to rest overtop of it. he looks at you, and sees happiness reflected back at him in your gaze. so fathomless he thinks he could drown in it.
hajime turns his face into your touch, and his eyes flutter closed as he noses against your palm.
he presses a kiss there. soft. adoring.
then another, just slightly higher, to the ring he put on your finger the night before.
he peeks at you again, that same heat in his cheeks, though not nearly as unbearable.
he's got another secret he doesn't regret now, one just as permanent as the ink in his skin, but this one won't stay hidden long. eventually he'll call his parents, and his nanay will probably get teary. then he'll tell his friends, who will put his mother's tears to shame. he'll leave the tattoo artist out of it this time, though—wherever that guy is now.
"happy birthday, hajime," you whisper to him with a smile he can't help but return.
he might keep this secret between the two of you today, though. just for a little while longer.
it'll be his gift to himself.
1K notes · View notes
mywritersmind · 2 months ago
Note
Lando picking up drunk y/n from the club <3
Tumblr media
CAREFUL -LN4
listen up : thanks for the request!! drunk!reader. that look of love. lando just being amazed at her.
word count : 915
⋆。‧˚⋆
I got the call twenty minutes ago. I left my house nineteen minutes ago. I got here ten minutes ago and still can’t fucking find her.
Y/n called me, not unusual but odd for the time of night. When I answered all I could hear was her slurred words and music. She said something about me coming to the party and I came straight down.
I sigh in relief when I see the girl, her hair is a mess and she’s jumping up and down with her friends and some random guys on the dance floor. I push my way through the crowd and when I finally reach her, she grins wildly.
“Lan!” Her arms wrap around me and I hold her waist to stop her from falling. She’s wobbling on her heels when she faces me again, “You came! Drink time!” she goes to drink her own but is met with an empty cup.
“Hey… you wanna head home?” She frowns, her bottom lip gutting out.
“I wanna head to your-” she hiccups, “Home!”
When her hand meets my chest I suck in a breath. I look to her friends and they thank me, knowing I'm going to get her back safely.
We make it out with people yelling my name or guys hitting on Y/n. I’ve never been more relieved than when we get into my car.
She slumps across the middle console, looking up at me. Her eyes are the kind you could get lost in, and with her lip between her teeth and the sort of hazy gaze she’s giving me, I could really get lost.
I move my eyes away from her, reaching over and buckling Y/n in. She giggles when I push her over a bit so I can secure it.
“Lando!” Her window goes down, “Let’s make out!” I glance over to her, a small smirk on my face.
“Is that a yes?” She rests her head in her hands.
“That’s a no, but nice try.” she frowns again. I would happily oblige if the circumstances were different. The circumstances being if she were sober and actually felt like that for me out of her drunken mind.
“But we’re good!” She whines, putting her feet out the window now, “Soo good!” She leans her head back onto my arm like she’s remembering.
Maybe we had a bit of a makeout at a party some time ago. We were sober but drunk off my win and in the mood for something fun.
She pulls her feet back into the car, shivering a bit, “Tell me that when we’re sober, love.”
“Love…” She mimics my accent, “stop tricking me.”
“Tricking you?”
“Yes! You say ‘Love’“ she mocks me again, “and all I hear is ‘climb on top of me and suck my neck.” I let out a genuine laugh.
“Didn’t know I had that effect on you.�� She sticks her tongue out, hearing my tone.
She unbuckles her seatbelt, her dress riding up and making me glue my eyes to the road. She turns her body, snaking her legs onto my lap and tilting her head out the window.
I eye her and am met with this look on her face.
Like she’s been waiting for me to look at her.
The wind is blowing her hair in all different directions, her lipstick is smudged, and she’s fucking glowing.
Her skin gleams under the moonlight, stretching her arms out of the window and leaning into the air more.
“Fuck.” I mumble under my breath, grabbing her thigh instinctively. My cool hand on her hot skin makes her squirm.
“Turn it up!” She yells at me and I do as I'm told. Head Over Heels by Tears for Fears comes through the speakers.
I can hear her wind blown laugh, her arms moving with the wind and then she starts singing… if you could even call it that. She’s screaming the words as I zip down the empty street.
“Something happens and I’m head over heels!” I join along, enjoying the view of her pure happiness.
She air drums which makes me laugh. I try to tell her to be careful but she can’t hear me, my hand tightens on her leg.
“Ahhh!” she screams out of joy, that same grin from earlier planted onto her face. Her eyes are closed, There’s glitter smudged around her eyes. It hits me in an instant how much I feel for her.
It’s ridiculous. How could one person be so beautiful? I reach over and pull her cheetah print dress down, she giggles. When she finally is back in the car, her hair is an absolute mess but the expression on her face is irresistible.
She looks at me once more, her legs still on me and her head against the closed window, “You’re really pretty.” It catches me off guard.
“Pretty?” I scoff a bit and she looks upset that I didn’t take the compliment so I look at her, my gaze softening, “Thank you, love.”
“Not going to say I'm pretty too?” She crosses her arms.
I laugh a bit, wiping my hand over my mouth, “You’re gorgeous, Y/n.” Out of the corner of my eye, I see her frown wipe away instantly. It’s like she sobered up in seconds.
She looks to the road for once, trying to cover her face but I could never miss the blush that joins her freckles.
648 notes · View notes
dollfacefantasy · 9 months ago
Note
hi! i love your writing so much! i was wondering if you could write something with leon and a clingy reader? she just likes being held by him, and one day a make out session gets out of hand while he’s holding her so he just fucks her while standing up, not letting her get down. i don’t know if this makes sense but the thought won’t leave my head. hope you’re having a good day/night! <3
Tumblr media
pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader
summary: you're such a needy little thing. leon can't get enough of you, and when he finds out you like being held, he has to take advantage of that.
cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, oral sex (m receiving), standing sex, daddy kink
word count: 3.9k
a/n: thank you so much for the request! i FELT this one cause i also have a thing about being held hehe. i hope it's what you were looking for :) reblogs and comments are really appreciated <3
tags: @sleepyluxe @kaitkatme @tosuckmyweenis @pupthepokemonenthusiast @bizzarethirst @death-paint @petitecolibri @iron-toxinz @wildest-dreams-at-midnight @nexysworld @explorevenus @luniaxi
Tumblr media
It only took Leon a couple weeks of dating to figure out that his girlfriend was exceptionally needy. He could tell you tried to suppress it to the best of your ability, control your yearning for physical contact, but it was still there. Honestly, it was obvious from the way you looked at him alone. Glossy, pleading eyes just calling out to him for some love.
At first, he was wary of this trait. He wasn’t good with affection normally. Didn’t like talking about his feelings. That stuff was just too much. He’s a busy guy already. He didn’t need extra worries in the form of a sweet thing like you rubbing your cheek against his neck, snaking your arms beneath his shirt, softly pleading “Leon, I wanna cuddle.”
But his problem was that he always gave into that stuff. Words like those hitting his ears, your pouty lips begging for his kisses, and grabby hands roaming around his body always got you what you wanted. He’d plant a smooch on your temple or forehead, grunt a quiet “c’mere then baby,” and pull you on top of him.
Time passed, and you grew on him like ivy climbing a stone wall. Your clingy nature took root somewhere inside him and drove him wild. It was addictive, feeling so needed. For the first time in his life, he felt like someone’s absolute first choice. It was nice living out his days with the subconscious idea that he was your favorite person. He could get a bit cocky about it sometimes but more than anything it made him all sappy. He couldn’t help it. He tried keeping up the cool, slick persona around you for a little while because impressing you was so important to him. But the way you looked at him made him feel like Superman. Your precious face tilted upwards to gaze at him like he was the only man you’d ever laid eyes on. It just made him wanna scoop you up and take off, soar far up into the clouds where it would just be the two of you.
So he ended up feeding into this kind of behavior one thousand percent, enabling you with no reservations. If you were sitting together, you were on his lap. Standing near each other? His arm was around you, keeping you tucked to his chest. The two of you would be lying in bed and simple cuddling just didn’t cut it anymore. No, instead, he’d be rubbing your back, nuzzling and kissing your neck, massaging your scalp. And the pet names were constant. Your actual name was only reserved for serious or special occasions. In ordinary conversations, it was always “my baby” with the intermittent “precious girl” or “princess” mixed in. 
Because, from his perspective, why wouldn’t he? You both deserved this. You craved the physical affection you’d never gotten enough of while he yearned for a sweet little thing to dote on and love between the brutal DSO missions that plagued most of his time. He didn’t give a fuck if someone wanted to say it was codependent or that he was whipped. You were his baby, and if sweet tender affection was what revved your engine, what kind of man would he be to deprive you of it?
Maybe he was whipped. He wouldn’t shy away from that label. He loved you undoubtedly. His heart ached to see you smiling and laughing. Each individual cell in his body cried out to be pressed against you. But in the same breath, he’d be a liar if he said that sex played no part in his urges to coddle you.
He’d never seen a girl get as cock drunk as you. He’d warm you up with his cooing and caresses, and then all he had to do was slide a few inches in you, and you were gone. Nothing had ever gotten him so hard. It’s like your brain shut off as soon as your sweet little pussy was filled up. Really, you went the whole nine yards; whining, babbling, drooling. Your gorgeous lashes would flutter as your eyes went hazy, and you always wanted to hold his hand. Well, more specifically, you wanted him to offer his hand to you. He’d simply murmur “Aw, is it too much, princess? Here, hold daddy’s hand. That’s my girl,” and you were already cumming.
Cause that was the other part of this whole thing. Shortly after he caught on to your intense need for physical affection, he discovered your penchant for the infamous d word. The first time you’d said it, he had you pinned down to the mattress, face shoved against your pillow, hips slightly elevated while he stuffed you full of cock. You just cried it out in the same way you’d yell for God or whine “fuck.” And he rolled with it. One little word wasn’t gonna get in the way of what he’d found with you.
Beyond calling him daddy, Leon tried to take note of all the things that got you going. Sure, you were fond of physical expressions of love, and you probably wouldn’t turn down an offer from him ever. But that didn’t mean you didn’t have favorites when it came to this stuff. Leon took pride in remembering what you liked. Over the months of your relationship, he made a point to remember the specific motion you liked him to do when he rubbed your back. He burned into his mind that you liked to kiss in a way that would definitely make those over-the-top smooching noises found in network dramas. What could he say? He just wanted to do everything right for you.
Possibly his favorite thing that he discovered about you though was your love for being held. Love probably wasn’t even a strong enough word. Your affinity? Proclivity? Plain white hot need? Who fucking knows. All he knew was that you had a major thing for being wrapped up in his arms with your head on his shoulder.
The first hint he’d got at this part of you came by pure accident. He’d just arrived home from a mission, a long and taxing one at that. He’d missed you like crazy, felt as needy as you did on a daily basis, and you were practically vibrating with a longing for his touch. So when you came bounding down the hallway to meet him at the front door, he’d grabbed you by the waist, picked you up and spun you around like in an old cartoon when the prince and princess finally get their happily ever after.
Coming out of the short twirl, he’d brought you to his chest and held your body a little ways above the ground. He cradled your head to your shoulder and kept his grip tight to support you. And it wasn’t like you melted or had little hearts gleaming in your eyes, but something in your demeanor shifted.
“There’s my baby,” he muttered while smacking kisses on the side of your head.
You replied with how much you missed him, more than anything in the whole world. He laughed his deep, rumbling laugh and brought you over to the couch. You were all over him even more than normal which was really saying something. You couldn’t stop pecking his face or pushing up against him. Next thing he knew, you were tugging at his belt and taking his dick down your throat.
“Fuck, precious. don’t gotta choke yourself. It’s not goin’ anywhere,'' he hummed while tilting his head back against the couch. You weren’t normally so forward. You were always needy, but typically, you waited for him to initiate. It was much more your style to drop hints that you were in the mood and wait for him to pick up on your signals, but this time you just went for it.
He stroked the back of your head while you bobbed your head, taking him deeper each time. Groans fell from his lips, and his hips jolted in small twitches. Your saliva seeped out over your soft lips and dribbled down to his balls. You had never lacked enthusiasm before, but now you were taking him like his cock was the best treat you’d ever had.
He could barely stand the sight of you in that moment. Cute eyes drooping while your cheeks hollowed. Once he heard the muted sound of you gagging, he was done for. Shot his load deep in your throat in what would have been an embarrassingly short amount of time if you were anyone else. But you swallowed it all without any complaints and then crawled into his lap to cuddle some more. As you curled up to his chest, he knew something he did struck a chord with you to get you so eager.
So naturally, he tried picking you up again a couple days later. He had to know if that was a fluke or if it really was a thing. This time it was much more intentional, but he still played it off as a teasing gesture. He scooped you up from behind while you were fidgeting with something in the kitchen, expecting a whiny chorus of “Leon!” and “Stop, put me down!” But you didn’t say either. You let out a soft squeak and a quiet “What are you doing?”
“Just giving you a hug, baby,” he teased and situated you in his embrace so your front was pressed to his.
Almost immediately, as if your skull was magnetized, your head fell to his shoulder. Your limbs tightened around him a little and you took a deep breath like you wanted to commit his scent to memory. You didn’t even complain about him pulling you away from whatever task had been occupying your attention.
“This isn’t a hug,” you’d said softly.
“Says who? Seems like a hug to me, got my arms around you,” he responded with a small kiss to your temple.
His hand rose to your head and cradled it against his shoulder as your legs locked around his waist. He stood there with you for a moment just taking in the embrace. It was as if he could feel you melt against his body.
“A hug is when we’re both standing,” you say quietly while slotting your face in the warm crook of his neck.
“Yeah? You look that up in the dictionary or something?” he mutters in return.
When he had a firm hold on you, he walked you through the living room, taking the long way up to the bedroom to give his little experiment some time to play out. You rested quietly in his grasp as he navigated past furniture. He ran his free hand up and down your back as he moved, his other one planted firmly on your thigh to support you.
After the two of you reached the bedroom, he set you down on the bed and climbed in after you. His fingers coasted across your cheek as he looked down into your eyes, studying you in a way. He was still curious about what was going through your head. Again, him holding you like that had led to some of the best sex the two of you’d had, but there was something deeper there too. This wasn’t just a cheat code to get you to drop your panties. There was an emotional part of this too. He could tell.
“So you like when I pick you up, hm?” he’d asked.
You looked up at him from your spot against his chest, glowing a bit as you came down from the high. “I guess,” you answered with a tiny shrug.
He’d chuckled at your attempt to be casual and just dropped the subject matter. Your reasons were probably sensitive to you. Located in a deep, private cavern of your heart that was too guarded for you to let even him in yet. And that was ok with him. For now, he’d just chalk it up to some desire on an instinctual level. It was just something that made you tick, and it became something he did for you from time to time when you needed that extra level of care.
This evening, the two of you had been watching some movie. To be honest, Leon didn’t even remember what it was called at this point because he didn’t really wanna watch it in the first place. He was much more interested in you. You had just started it up as he arrived home from running some errands though, so he didn’t want to be rude and ask you to shut it off just because he was horny. Instead, he flopped down next to you on the couch. 
A small laugh bubbles from your lips as he pulls you to him and kisses down the side of your face, murmuring for you to explain what’s going on in the thing you were watching. You ramble on about the story, telling him that it’s the end of the world and these guys are trapped in this house, and that one is friends with that one but hates the other one, and blah blah blah. He loved you to death, but he just couldn’t care less about that right now. He hums along with a stream alternating between  “mhm” and “oh yeah.”
Your laughter increases as his kisses become more distracting. He nips at the skin of your throat and litters your soft skin with love bites. His tongue laves at your neck as his nose coasts over your flesh. After a while, your own interest in the movie begins to dwindle. You turn your head and plant some smooches on his face, enticing him to tilt his head upwards. The two of you meet in the middle, connecting your lips.
Mouths move in sync, tongues brush each other, and soon enough, your seat’s been abandoned in favor of your true favorite spot. You’re parked on his lap, the lush flesh of your ass flush against his semi-hard bulge. His hand slithers up your back underneath your shirt to rub up and down your spine while pulling you closer. Your breathing gets heavier, and you’re practically panting when you two finally pull away for a break. Your lips are wet with spit and a little puffy from making out. He drags his thumb over your bottom one as he smirks at your glazed eyes.
“Think you’d be ok with finishing this later?” he asks.
To his pleasure, you’re quick to accept the offer with a nod. “Seen it before anyways,” you admit and lean back in for more kisses.
He chuckles into your mouth and boosts you up without even turning the tv off. He’s stumbling to the bedroom, and you’re latched onto him like a little spidermonkey or something. He knew well by now that being carried took your brain to that sweet spot of utter submission, but today you were on something else entirely. You were getting whiny between kisses. He was having to support you extra because your hands were trying to slide in between the two of you and get at his pants. He assumed it was cause he got you riled up before picking you up, but he didn’t lament about it too much. He wasn’t thinking with his head right now.
All your squirming around nearly made him trip and topple the both of you to the ground. He grunts and shifts you around, trying to get you to settle down at least till you reach the bedroom. You wouldn’t let up though, continuing on with your impatient hip rocking and greedy fingers. He’s sure he’s about to fall over and one of you is moments away from serious injury, so he totters a few steps over and secures you against the wall.
“Jesus, you’d think I’d just got back from a war or something,” he breathes.
You laugh, but keep up your neediness. “Just want you so bad. Missed my daddy all day,” you murmur.
“Yeah? I know it’s hard being away from me. Your little head’s just not cut out for all that thinking is it?” he coos condescendingly, “This is how you're meant to be, just attached to daddy, letting him take care of everything while you tag along.”
“Mhm,” you nod and kiss him again. He can feel you smiling against his lips.
“Yeah, so how bout you do me a favor then and stop wriggling around so much. You wanna get dropped on your head so thinking isn’t even an option anymore?” he teases.
“No. I just…” you whimper defensively. A smile spreads across your face as you hide your face at the base of his neck. “I just want you… really bad.”
That was a tone Leon knew well by now. That was the tone of the guessing game. It was the voice you used when you wanted something but were too shy to just ask for it. So Leon had to decipher your signals and figure out what that thing was. Luckily, this time around it was pretty simple.
“Really bad? Like pinned down in the middle of the hallway while I’m stuffing you full of cum bad?” he asks.
“Sorta…” you say.
With an amused shake of his head, he thinks a little more. The stuffed full of cum thing was a given. So what was off? He was thinking through this as if searching for a missing puzzle piece. He runs through different scenarios before it clicks. He laughs a little. It was kind of obvious once he had it.
“Oh, of course not. There’s no way you’d choose to be out of my arms. What was I thinking?” he says, exaggerating his cadence, “So you want it standing?”
You nod, and with the right answer, that little smile feels so much sweeter. He leans harder into you, keeping you by pressing you between him and the wall. Giving you a few messy kisses, he finally undoes his pants and pushes them down to his mid-thigh. He was fully hard now. You could feel it as he rolled his hips against your center.
“Lucky you’re wearing a skirt, nice and easy for me,” he hums.
He bunches up the fabric around your waist before dragging his fingers over your panties, feeling how they were damp. He smirks against your lips while applying more pressure, seeking out your swollen clit.
“Already so wet, baby,” he chides, “Is this how you get while I’m not with you? Can’t think of anything but daddy cause your pretty pussy’s just crying for some more attention.”
“Yeah, need you to make the ache go away,” you say in a breathy whimper.
“I know you do,” he coos.
It’s a bit difficult in this position, but Leon manages to remove the last barriers of cloth separating the two of you. He lines up his dick with your entrance and slides home. Now it’s his head that falls on your shoulder as he groans. His stance didn’t really allow him to ease in. He was balls deep in the first stroke. You let out a long satisfied moan.
Taking a moment to readjust, he gets his elbows hooked under the bends of your knees. You’re basically bent in half, his cock to your cervix. This angle felt even deeper too. Your walls pulse around him as you work to accommodate the length.
“That’s it, pretty girl. Every part of you clings to me,” he grunts before taking a step away from the wall.
Losing the stability behind your back had you rocking and shifting more, causing his tip to nudge against all those sweet spots. Your thighs quiver as Leon gets into a rhythm and figures out how to bounce you on his cock like his. The sound of your skin meeting floats down the hallway. You whine and whimper, your eyes roll back as your head tilts the same direction.
He could tell you were loving it. Your favorite place to be combined with your favorite feeling in the entire world. There was nothing his sweet girl loved more than being stuffed full of cock and held by him.
“Feeling good, princess? Is daddy fucking you just how you wanted?” he asks.
“Mhm, mhm, mhm,” you whimper and nod dumbly.
“Good,” he says. He focuses on working himself in and out of you. His mind is locked on the sensation of your slick coating his shaft and collecting at the base, dripping down to his balls. But more words fill his mind and rush to his mouth to be let out. “This is why you’re so needy, right baby? You just need some cock in you or you get so frustrated. Can’t even think straight without your fill, can you?”
You shake your head wildly. Your legs tense over his arms. His hands dig into your back to keep you supported. You see his biceps flexing beneath his sleeves as he uses his strength to hold you up. He rocks you on his cock, back and forth, sliding himself in and out. You’re gasping and trembling more noticeably now. He knows you’re approaching the peak.
“Doing so good for me, precious,” he murmurs, “Keep squeezing me like that so I can fill you up just how you need.”
Your noises become more desperate. It feels as though you get even tighter. Leon slams into you deeper than you could remember. But then again, in this state, your memory wasn’t worth much. Pumping in and out, he sees your eyes squeeze show, your mouth widening into that cute familiar shape it always made when you came.
“Go ahead, baby. Make a mess for daddy,” he groans.
You do as he says, following your orders. You seize up and moan, long and loud. He tightens his grip and takes a step closer to the wall to ensure your high isn’t cut by falling. His hips don’t stop though. He feels that tensing in his belly. Gritting his teeth, he pounds you over and over until he has to stumble back to the wall.
You hit the surface with a thud, but he’s a little too busy to notice. He growls and whimpers into your neck, hips working at a more strained pace as he tries to grab that brief euphoria. A few thrusts later and release is washing over him. He fucks you full, going deep and staying true to his word about filling you up. He pumps every last drop in.
You slowly slide down in his arms till he lets go of your legs and your feet can touch the ground again. Looking up at him as he comes down, you watch his features melt into the relaxation of post-release. You lean up and press a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. His eyes open and look down at you. A lazy smile spreads on his face and moves in to return the gesture.
“So how’d I do?” he asks with that smug look you loved so much.
“Perfect like always,” you answer, genuine in contrast to his teasing. You step forward on wobbly legs, grabbing his hand to finish your trip to the bedroom together. He leans down and smacks a kiss on your neck.
“Clearly not perfect enough if you’re walking on your own now,” he purrs in your ear.
You smile and look down. “There’s still time to fix that,” you offer.
“Of course there is,” he agrees with a light swat to your ass. He pecks your lips once more before following you through the entryway to your shared room.
1K notes · View notes