#their band's name IS No Clue

[surinnit]

he made a lot of questionable decisions in the 80's

[nicoscheer]

[chaoticmannamedoliver]

Random thought about my fear mechs au

Whatever the damned name of the bifrost god thing was (i can never remember) would either be on the same "god" level of the fears(in this case, in my opinion, the spiral) or it would be some weird sub extension of the spiral? Or the spiral just fuckin consumes that thing since to me they are pretty similar entities

I dunno what to do? If the TBI god gets consumed by the spiral, then making lyf a spiral avatar is VERY tempting

Although wait hold on- thinking more about it- the TBI god kinda gives me eyepocalypse vibes?? Uhh hmm

Fuck i dunno

[heyitssunnyinside]

so my friend managed to get me into infamous and now like i mean what else was i supposed to do besides draw our silly little characters yk

[dracolizardlars]

Oh man I just found out that the band Spratley's Japs have posthumously changed their name to Spratley's Rats. Thank god.

[last-answer]

bwahhh listening to nsfws music at 3am is doing things to my brain

[eyivibyemi]

✧ I won’t really write descriptions for these, but see original post tags for explanation/commentary on the song snippet ✧

[indigo6f00ff]

because my wifi was So Rudely Interrupted for a bit i decided to do listen to New music on my phone and

i don't think i've ever got whiplash from an album this hard

[loverdude]

A 2009 pilot/pitch of SVTFOE for Nickelodeon (?!) was put up on YouTube recently and at the end it plays what is described as Star's favorite song and it is a ska song ❤

[ldy11lc]

idk abt the entire scenario but for a rockstar Tashi bot she def has to be the lead singer of the band she’s in yk?? It just makes sense and honestly if you do end up doing a bot of her like that can it maybe just maybe be wlw?🫣🫣

oh absolutely she does !! in my vague plans for the bots so far, she is definitely the lead singer !! i just dont think anything else would make sense !!

also, yes absolutely it can be wlw !! as a general rule of thumb, pretty much all of my bots are made for a fem user unless specifically said otherwise 🫶

[knuckleduster]

whenever i get back into making music i want to change my artist name

[trombonedesya]

I just kinda tried to be cis, and when that didn't work (i.e. trying to be more femme in adulthood, even if I didn't like the look), looking at YouTube and finding transmasc creators and going "I want that"

not a poll, but if you are trans and you feel so inclined, reblog this post and tell me how you realized you were trans

[steddiebrainrotramble]

Saw this idea floating around and wanted to write a little bit about it

Corroded coffin has gotten big enough for larger venues now. Steve was so proud of them. He and Eddie had agreed on day one he’d stay with them. He helped manage the band behind the scenes. Steve loved it. He loved the guys and getting to spend their days off exploring different parts of the cities they toured.

It was hard sometimes though, at places like this especially. Sometimes he got migraines and had to come later. Or wanted to step out for a smoke. Large venues like this had large back of the house and green rooms but some times he just needed to get out.

That wasn’t the problem. Getting back in was. Even with his back stage access pass, a lot of the time the venue security refused to believe that the man before them was the lead singers husband.

How could he be? The man in the yellow polo and jeans with perfectly coifed hair at a metal concert didn’t look like he belonged in the venue let alone with the band. And that was his problem right at this moment.

Steve looked up at the large looking men. Two of them, looking unimpressed with him. “Look, I don’t know where you stole that pass from but everyone knows Munsons husband’s name. Get out of here before we throw you out.”

Steve ran a hand through his hair. He was trying not to get frustrated. He appreciated them, honestly. He wanted to keep Eddie safe. But fuck he did not want to do this right now. “I appreciate you doing your job. But I’ve got my badge. Call back to Ed’s security. Describe me to them. Hell tell them the shirt I’m wearing, Cj helped pick it out, says it’s a good yellow. Mat says it’s too horrendous but it somehow suits me. Couldn’t tell if that’s a compliment honestly.” Steve shrugged. The guards look unamused.

Finally the one on the left sighs. “Fine I’ll walkie back. If they say they have no clue who you are we’re kicking you completely out and trespassing you. Sure you want to gamble that?” The guy smirked and Steve shrugged. “Go for it.”

Guy walkied for the bands security. “Got a preppy looking guy here. Think he stole a backstage pass.” Steve can hear Cj’s voice crackle over the walkie. “He wearing an amazingly blinding yellow polo?” “Yes…” “That’s Munson’s hubby, let him through.”

Steve just stared at them as he pushed pass, careful to remind himself he had another story to tell Robin next time he called.

[lihhelsing]

Steve is that kind of high school teacher that changes the lives of his students. He's attentive and kind, always offers them support the best he can.

They love him! No surprises there.

So it's the end of the semester and they want to thank him for everything he does.

It's a whole thing. Steve walks into class and he can tell everyone is buzzing with anticipation. One of the girls comes forward, she's very sweet and Steve remembers helping her coming to terms with her sexuality. 

Remembers giving her advice when she wanted to come out to her parents. Jane has this big smile on her face and starts telling him how the whole class is grateful for him and how they wanted to give him something different. 

She tells him they noticed his favorite band.

Steve is not obvious about it, but the clues were there.

One time he showed up wearing that band's t-shirt. Another student remembers walking into class while Steve was singing along to one of their songs while it blasted on his phone. 

And the biggest clue of it all was Steve's phone wallpaper. 

Steve blushes when they say that

He dips his head and everyone laughs.

"I don't blame you, he's really hot!" Yells another student from the back and everyone laughs again. 

Steve groans, but offers them a soft smile. 

"So we tried getting you tickets for their show but it's sold out!" Jane says.

"Oh that's ok," Steve says. "I appreciate the gesture."

She then explains they couldn't give up. 

"Someone said we should reach out to their team and explain the situation." 

"Oh?" 

"Yeah! So I did. And they were pretty cool about it, said they would love to have you there."

And then she proceeds to give him an envelope. Steve opens it to find a single ticket and a poster he's seen a million times.

In big, bold letters the name of the band is written on top. 'Corroded Coffin'.

"Oh, thank you," Steve says and everyone is clapping and cheering

And is all so silly that he can't help but smile. 

"They couldn't give two, though, so I guess you're going to have to go alone Mr. Harrington." 

Jane says apologetically and Steve waves her off. 

"It's fine."

"Maybe you'll meet someone there!" 

And since they are high schoolers they all cheer louder, saying all sorts of things about Steve finally meeting someone and Steve blushes.

He'll go to the concert, of course. He'll thank them for the rest of the year.

And he'll have to make Eddie promise to never tell them the truth.

Maybe he'll tell them he's married, eventually. Has been for a long time and that's why he has that picture of him as his wallpaper. 

He cannot believe his husband actually read that email from his students and happily went along with it. The bastard.

[randomshyperson]

The Pinning Problem - Wanda Maximoff Oneshots

Summary: There are several ways to resolve the rivalry between the Avengers that does not involve fighting. Or, the one where Wanda Maximoff likes to be pinned down by her not-so-secret crush, and somehow this becomes the whole team's problem.

words: 2.944k | warnings: a lot of sexual tension, kissing, hints of rivals to lovers, this is a crack fic - nothing here can be taken seriously, another alternative solution for civil war that’s better than what they did, nothing explicit but hints of sub!wanda.

A/N-. I found this on my draft, had to translate, and I have no idea what was the inspiration or writing process but I thought it was so funny, so here it is. The name is actually quite self-explanatory.

General Masterlist | AO3 | Wattpad

-&-

In Wanda's defense, a sequence of events led to this unsustainable situation.

It probably started a year ago, when she had mind-tricked the team of Earth’s Mightiest Heroes and felt confident enough to try it on someone who was notoriously known for being invulnerable. It was the first time Wanda had been pinned against a wall by another person, and it was the most inopportune situation possible for any feelings other than anger and fear, so of course Wanda had never been so aroused. Things didn’t get any better after that, and in her interactions with you in the Avenger routine a while later, she would probably describe you as having some obscure desire to pin her against things.

In training, against the mat.

In the kitchen, against the counter or the fridge, with bad excuses to reach things or just because you wanted to see her blush or traumatize any team member present.

And one notable time, one that haunted her in wet dreams for weeks, against the door of the motel room you were staying in for one of the countless stakeout missions in search of clues about the Winter Soldier.

Wanda was never so grateful for a shared bathroom as the day she saw you in just a towel, hair and wet muscles exposed.

“Damn, wrong door.” You said with an innocent tone, but it didn’t seem like you had made any mistakes, the little smile giving away your true intentions.

Wanda, who had just emptied the bathroom for the next in line for the shower, clutched the towel to her body tighter, a nervous giggle escaping her.

She's never felt as powerful as she does now, using all her mental and spiritual control not to rip off those towels and grab you with the entire team to witness.

“Did you save some hot water for me, witchy?” You teased with your hand on the doorframe, too close for Wanda to breathe properly. She had to blink her concentration back, her brain barely able to focus on anything other than your inviting lips.

“Hm, I can’t say I have it.”

You lick your lips, a smile threatening to escape as Wanda's eyes followed the movement. "No problem, I need a cold shower anyway." That's what you said, using much more of her personal space than you needed to exit the room.

And for the next few weeks, Wanda could only remember that feeling, her fingers tucked deep inside her pants as she bit her lip to keep from whimpering your name to the ceiling.

The fight between Steve and Tony escalated into a catastrophe shortly after that, and Wanda had a little time to focus on other things.

That is until Clint picked her up at the Tower, and informed her that he had two stops to make. Ant-Man was the easy part, he was loud and energetic and kept Clint busy with excited questions about his life as an Avenger.

You were the proof of the gods.

With a leather jacket you got as a gift from Natasha hiding a band t-shirt that in Wanda's opinion, made you look like the most attractive person she had ever laid eyes on, you threw your backpack on the bench and squeezed in next to her.

You didn't have to press your lips to her cheek, but you did it anyway, as if you and Wanda were great friends, and you had missed her a lot in the last few weeks you hadn't seen each other with all the team's drama.

“What’s up, witchy?” It was so casual that Wanda almost believed that you two had a real relationship and not a history of arguments, teasing and staring challenges.

Clint didn't pay a second thought to the matter, he was stressed with everything that was happening to the team, and he was pleased that you were joining the fight, especially on his side. Having a demigoddess should mean an easy victory, and hopefully, without much fighting.

Staying under wraps in Europe until it was time to meet Steve at the appointed point was a minefield. Four people sharing a van, two of whom were hormonal teenagers, with some sort of battle going on over who would give in first could easily be one of the reasons Clint Barton wanted to stay retired.

Three hours into the ride, and Wanda let out another sigh from the backseat, and he had enough.

“I swear to god I’m going to make you walk all the way there.” The hawk warned, stealing a glance in the rearview mirror, quick enough for him to see you move your hand away from Wanda’s thigh. He snorted in disbelief. “That’s so inappropriate. And disgusting.”

“Don’t be homophobic, Clint.” You immediately retort, but the Avenger shook his head, chuckling reluctantly.

“I’ll tell your cousin what kind of things you do while other people are around you, young lady.” He threatened but you shrugged, an easy laugh escaping you.

“Good luck trying to slut-shame me to the god of fertility.” Your bratty response made Wanda and Scott hide a giggle.

Clint huffed in irritation. “What the hell, that’s not what I’m doing!” He defended himself, offended. “I just don’t want to be there while you make out with your girlfriend.”

You shrug. “Sounds like homophobia to me, man.”

Clint shakes his head indignantly, and tries to look at Scott for some support but the other just shrugs, with an expression that he agrees with your words. The Archer lets out a humorless laugh, and announces that he will stop for food at the next gas station he drives by.

When the stop finally happened, almost an hour later, Clint and Scott practically fled the car.

Wanda thinks she should have at least changed seats.

“Can I ask you something?” She ventured as the noise of the older Avengers talking grew more distant, as they were going to buy food at the convenience store. You hum in agreement, and Wanda swallows hard because she feels your gaze on her. “How did Barton convince you to join the fight?”

The question takes you by surprise. You change seats, and Wanda almost regrets it, but you do it just to look at her and it's more disconcerting than before.

“Why wouldn’t I join? I’m an Avenger too.” Apparently, you wanted to see her reaction. Sometimes, Wanda forgot that not everyone could read minds. Especially you, who, although you could resist any of her magic tricks, didn’t have the same abilities to do them on other people.

“I know, I meant…” She thought for a moment about the right words. “I just got the impression that Thor advised you to stay a little distant from things like that. He himself doesn’t seem to be around much for this kinda of… human and bureaucratic stuff.”

You click your tongue. “I’m human, Wanda. Half, but still.”

“I know!” she snaps back, her cheeks hot. “I just meant—”

“I know what you mean, I’m messing with you.” You cut her off with a giggle, gesturing slightly. “I’m flattered, you know? That you think I’m so strong and amazing, so superior to all of this.” You make an exaggeratedly theatrical expression, and Wanda laughs with an eye roll.

“Oh, shut up.” She retorts, and manages to make you smile too. The lightness of the interaction changes the second after this dialogue ends. You look at her in a different way, more intense and vulnerable, and Wanda swallows hard. She feels like she wants to say a million things at once, but it’s you who speaks first.

“You’re right though, I wasn’t going to get involved.” You say, your typical confidence failing for the first time since Wanda met you. “Diplomatic immunity and Asgardian royalty perks or something like that.” You joke with a weak laugh, but something about the way you’re saying it makes it impossible for Wanda to laugh, let alone breathe properly. “Clint only had to use two magic words to get me on the team.”

She swallows hard, her stomach flipping. “What words?”

You smile at the corner of your mouth, not meeting her eyes for a moment. And then you sigh deeply, and look at her. “Wanda Maximoff.”

The breath that escapes her is shaky and faltering, and you hold her gaze until she gathers her courage. You wait patiently for Wanda to approach, and you don't move at any of her hesitations, until she sighs and grabs the collar of your blouse, pulling you in with determination. Despite the urgency, the first kiss is not rushed. You let her get used to the feeling first, and pull away before Wanda has a chance to protest.

But when you dive back in the next second, you take control. Your hand cups her jaw and your mouth is hungrily against hers, teeth and tongue, devouring every whimper of need she gives you. You’re not immune to Maximoff’s charms either.” You gasp at Wanda’s taste, brow furrowed as if you’re physically unable to pull away.

But you have to, because Clint and Scott can't make a purchase longer than eight damn minutes.

The veterans climb into the car, and the archer turns to the back of the van to deliver the food and catches a glimpse of your disheveled appearances and uneven breathing and grunts of disbelief.

“For the love of god, I don’t even want to know. And don’t you dare touch my stuff!” He says, throwing the snacks into your laps as you and Wanda struggle to hide your giggles.

-&-

The plan was to sneak out, but Stark closed the airport. Steve's order was for everyone to put on their suits and follow him, but Wanda ended up trapped between the closed door of the van and your body.

“Everything okay, girls?” Captain America asked uncertainly, and without moving away, you forced a smile at Steve.

“Sure, Cap. I’ll just wish Wanda a good fight. We’ll catch up with you for a grand entrance, I promise.” It’s practically a warning that you’re going to do this regardless of Steve’s permission, so he clears his throat and waves for the team to follow him ahead.

The Avengers have barely finished walking away - she can still hear Clint complaining that the two of you haven't let go of each other when you lean your face down and kiss her.

She doesn't know what she expected, but she certainly doesn't feel prepared for this kind of kiss. Sloppy and charged with lust, just a few hours after she experienced the sensation of having your lips for the first time.

Your firm hands on her waist and the extra support of the van are the only things keeping her upright. Her wobbly legs gave out at the first bite of her lip, three kisses ago.

Between one gasp and another, and this because neither of you wants to let go, Wanda tries to remind you of what they are doing in Germany.

“We have to go. The others. The fight.” Each word comes between one kiss and another, and she’s not even trying to open her eyes, because you drag your mouth down her jaw and start pressing your lips to her neck with enough intention to make her arch her body towards you and forget the world around her.

Though you look equally affected, you manage to break the caresses with a husky chuckle. “Who the hell came up with the idea of adding a damn corset to your uniform, Wanda?”

The question makes her bite her lip, especially since she catches the way your gaze is fixed on her collarbone.

“I chose it myself. Don’t you like it?” She teases with false innocence, baiting you by puffing out her chest in your direction.

Your fingers reach up and pull at the limit of what the corset's laces will hold without opening, the gesture being suggestive enough for Wanda to tremble.

“I loved it, that’s the problem.” You murmur, evidently aroused, your mouth marking her skin again. “How do they expect me to fight with you looking like that around me. All I can think about is undressing you…” A soft bite on your lobe, and Wanda moans directly into your ear. “God, I could fuck you right here.”

“There’s no time.” She pants back, but your grip tightens a little and Wanda is sure that if you try to take her clothes off in the middle of this parking lot, she’ll help you.

“We can make time.”

But your whispered phrase carries a meaning she can’t ignore. She struggles to push her arousal away and manages to retort a hoarse “What?”

Your hands reach inside the suit's jacket, and move downward. Wanda gasps as she feels them on her ass, squeezing the flesh and forcing your hips together. The sensation is so delirious that she almost forgets she asked a question.

“We can kill time if we let the boys fight alone.” Your voice combined with all the attraction she’s kept secret for so long is like a siren song taking her mind to places far removed from Avengers intrigue, and more like beds or mats. Or anywhere you can press her, including this car. “Romanoff knows how to take care of herself, and the others wouldn’t even notice.”

“Yes, they would.” She retorts with a soft laugh before pulling your mouth back to hers. Kissing her again wakes something in you. Your hands go frantic, tugging and squeezing, and Wanda finds herself pressed completely against the iron door with one of your legs between hers. The softest press of your knee against her core makes Wanda gasp in a whimper.

You break the kiss to rest your forehead against hers. “You sound so beautiful when you make those sounds.” But she needs to put more distance between you, because she won’t be able to stop if she doesn’t do it now.

“We can’t.” She insists, one hand on your stomach to gently push you away. “Not now. And not here.” She sighs at the dark look in your eyes. “We gave you our word that we would help.”

For a moment, it looks like you’re going to ignore it, your lips brushing together, teasing away whatever sanity she has left. But then, you kiss her cheek and pull away, and Wanda would have slid down to the floor if it weren’t for van’s support.

“Okay, I’ll help.” You declare with a determination that makes Wanda swallow hard.

She barely has time to work on her appearance and has to rush to catch up with you, sprinting towards the team.

You missed the grand entrance - Things were about to start, and you interrupted a spider-clad teenager with an energy pulse that threw him away and kept him pinned to the ground.

“Sorry guys, I’m really busy today.” You announced. Everyone looked at you in shock, Tony seemed genuinely surprised to see you pick a team, and Steve seemed worried that you had changed your mind. When you started fighting with everyone, things got even more serious.

But Wanda didn't even have time to think about what it all meant; she realized that you weren't hurting them. You were bringing them together, to face them all at once.

Vision was probably the only one there who could do any damage due to the Infinity Stone, so she needed to keep him under control.

And with Spider-Boy safe and immobilized just like Vision, you screamed to the heavens.

“Heimdall, let’s take my friends for a ride!”

The Avengers only had time to widen their eyes. The transport was almost immediate.

Wanda closed her eyes, as shocked as the others, but the trip was actually smooth. While half the team was still fighting on the rainbow that led to Asgard, you held her by the waist, and the landing was calm and coordinated.

Steve was the first to approach you, as furiously as everyone else. “What do you think you’re doing? Send us back right now! We have to-”

“Sorry, I’m on vacation.” You cut him off, shrugging. Your hand is clasped in Wanda’s, who’s standing behind you.

The team all stands around, angry and surprised. Steve gives an incredulous laugh, but Tony actually laughs.

“Wow, that’s impressive, Rogers. Seriously, this time you outdid yourself in the worst decisions you could make. You didn’t think about what could happen when you called her to fight, she has the maturity of a ten-year-old!”

“Wow, and you can talk about maturity, can’t you Tony?”

You rolled your eyes, leaving them behind, cursing each other. Natasha was trying to stop King T'Challa from attacking Bucky, but none of them had a way out of here. Rhodes took off his armor helmet and was commenting on how huge Asgard was with Sam, while Clint tried to get a cell phone signal to warn Laura that he would most definitely be late. You think Ant-Man was trying to take pictures, but you got distracted by Wanda on the way through the Bifrost.

“Are we just going to leave them?” She asked, glancing at the irritated team.

You shrug. “Yeah, Heimdall will keep an eye on them. And when they calm down, the palace awaits. And you will see my royal chamber now.”

Wanda purrs, her cheeks flushed. “You’re getting pretty confident.” She teases, making you smile.

“I’m just inviting you to a late-night fondue.” You joke, and it’s Wanda’s turn to chuckle before pressing her lips against yours.

Some of the Avengers complain in the background but none of you are paying attention to them anymore.

[frudoo]

Jack Reacher is a munch.

Warnings: Kinda dub-con? Jerking off, cunnilingus, squirting. Fem!Reader is fat.

“I need you.”

     The back door slams and startles you out of your book-entranced state. Appearing before you is your heaving boyfriend, hair stuck to his sweaty forehead and a deep blush riddled across his skin. One large hand tosses aside your book, uncaring of the way you whine.

     “You made me lose my place!” You frown, giving the side of his head a light smack.

     “You’ll find it again,” Jack rudely rips the cozy blanket off of your body and groans loudly when he sees that you’re only wearing his old shirt and a pair of panties. “That’s my girl. Never make me wait, do you?” 

     “What are you- oh,” your eyes widen as you watch your hulking man drop to his knees, instantly attaching his teeth to the supple flesh of your inner thigh. 

     “Take ‘em off,” he demands, snapping the elastic band of your panties. 

     “Ow!” You pout, lifting your hips and shimmying the thin fabric down your legs, off of your body.

     Jack grabs your thighs and places them over his broad shoulders, shoving his nose into your crotch and moaning crudely. 

     “Needed this pussy all damn day,” he murmurs into your skin, inhaling deeper with every breath. “Did she miss me, baby?”

     “Jack-”

     “Could practically hear her calling my name,” he interrupts, spreading your labia open with his thumbs and leaning back just to spit a glob of saliva onto your waiting entrance. 

     His hot breath ghosts across your hardening clit and you shiver, gripping the edge of the couch cushion to ground yourself. A kiss to your sensitive bud turns into two before his tongue licks a fat stripe through your folds. 

     “F-fuck, Jack,” you gasp, whimpering softly.

     “Mhm?” He mouths at your pussy with a cocky hum, hazel eyes flicking up to yours. 

     Everything feels blazing hot—overwhelmingly so. It’s easy to liken your body to molten lava, fluid and just about to burn a hole right through the couch. His tongue is relentless, lapping at your cunt like it’s all he’s good for. If you told him exactly that, you get the feeling he’d agree and beg you to put him in his place, keep him reminded of his role. 

     “Taste so fucking good,” Jack moans, fingertips gripping the fat of your thigh so tightly they dimple the flesh. 

     One hand leaves your leg and slips out of sight, but the unmistakable purr of his pants unzipping clues you in as to where it went. His body jerks and his brows furrow as he fumbles around for a moment, grunting with relief as he finally gets his hand around his aching cock. 

     “W-wait, if you’re gonna fuck me, I need… need your fingers,” you breathe, yelping as your boyfriend playfully nips at your clit. 

     “Not fuckin’ you,” he soothes the ache with a slow swirl of his tongue. “Just need this pretty pussy to melt in my mouth.” 

     The shlick, shlick, shlick of Jack fisting his cock blends into the wet noises of his tongue slipping through your cunt, a lewd melody that makes your head fuzzy and your belly twist with dizzying pleasure.

     “C’mon, baby, grind on my face,” he encourages, growling with delight when you comply. “Mhm, mhm, just like that.” 

     His nose glides over your clit as he hungrily thrusts his tongue deep inside of your weeping hole. His light eyes are half-lidded and glazed over, staring at the way your soft tummy jiggles every time you jerk when he nuzzles against a particularly sensitive spot. You’re ethereal like this, Jack thinks, with one trembling hand gripping his hair tightly and the other pinching at your nipples through your shirt. His cock twitches in his hand and he whimpers as he runs his thumb through his ruddy, leaking tip. 

     “More,” Jack mutters—more to himself than to you—using his free hand to pull your leg up even higher on his shoulder.

     There isn’t one inch of his head that’s not surrounded by you, and he loves it. He can’t breathe, only lick and suck and nip and nudge with every working part of his face. If he had more hands they’d be all over you. 

     “Fuck, oh f-fuck, don’t stop,” your other hand flies to meet the one on his head and you tug at his hair roughly, shivering when he moans against your pussy at the feeling. 

     Something in him goes feral when he feels your walls pulse around his tongue. Jack flickers his eyes up to watch the way you throw your head back as you near the brink of ecstasy. He’s tugging at his dick so hard he thinks he might burn himself and he doesn’t even care. All that matters to him at this moment is swallowing down the proof of your orgasm and savoring the taste. When he gets it—the violent shake of your legs, the raw scream that rips from your throat, the uncontrollable roll of your hips and most importantly, the sweet tang of your release—he sees fucking stars. 

     His release follows quickly after, spilling through his fingers and squelching every time he thrusts into his hand again. He feels you come down from your high, tremors in your muscles so strong he can feel them rippling through your skin, and his own climax dissipates, but his mouth won’t stop. He can’t stop. He’s out of his head, out of his body, functioning only on pure desire and insatiable hunger. You push at his shoulders, whimpering in overstimulation.

     “Jack, I can’t- fuck, stop,” you plead, trying to pull away from his devilish lips and tongue. 

     Your boyfriend shakes his head and wraps both arms around your plush hips, hands squeezing the fat of your stomach almost painfully to keep you in place. It’s in times like these he loves being so big—nice, strong muscles to keep his pretty girl still and open wide for him to feast on. 

     His stubble chafes your poor skin and although he knows you’ll make him pay for it later, the sounds you’re making right now only encourage him to dive deeper, rub you red if only to make himself drown in you. Jack very well could drown here, with sweat burning at the rims of his eyes and his nose and mouth full of your slick, puffy pussy. He would die a happy man. 

     “B-baby, fuck, please, I can’t,” you wail, but Jack just digs his blunt fingernails into your soft belly and glares up at you. 

     “No,” he mutters, wrapping his swollen lips around your clit and sucking harshly before pulling away with a soft pop. “Want you to cum again, know you can.” 

     Every nerve in his body is alight, twitching with need. The cool air of the living room surrounds his semi-erect dick, making him buck his hips against the feeling. Despite the lack of friction, he’s still sensitive from his previous orgasm and every little motion gets his blood flowing and his cock growing harder once again. 

     With a few more licks to your overworked clit, the pain dissolves back into white-hot pleasure that has your thighs squeezing even tighter around the sides of your man’s head. He presses his palm into your lower belly hard, and the climax manifesting inside of you intensifies tenfold. You know what he’s doing, but there’s not a force in this lifetime or the next that could possibly give you the strength to push Jack Reacher away from your sweet cunt in this moment. He’s going to make you squirt all over him and, to your dismay, the poor living room.

     “No, no- Jack- wait, I’m gonna- gonna-!” 

     Your orgasm hits you before you can finish your sentence, and had it not been for your giant of a boyfriend holding your lower half up with his wide shoulders, you would have arched your back hard enough to slide right off of the couch. He tongues you through the high and when he finally pulls back, gasping for breath, you groan at the sight of him absolutely drenched in your cum. When you look down, you see the bottom of your beloved furniture stained with his cum, and judging by the way it’s already soaking into the fabric, there’s no way to clean it completely.. Damn him—his hands never left your body to catch his second release.

    Fuck, the man came hands-free just from eating your pussy. You’d be impressed if you weren’t so damn exhausted.

     Wordlessly, Jack tucks himself back into his pants and stands from the floor, scooping your trembling body up into his arms to carry you to the bedroom. There he tucks you in and presses the softest peck to your lips, as if he hadn’t just wrecked you with that very mouth he kisses you with. He starts to pull away but you’re quick to tug him back down.

     “Stay with me,” you whisper.

     “You don’t want me to clean the mess up front?” He chuckles, stepping back to strip himself of his dirty clothes. 

     You shake your head, snuggling up to him once he finally slips beneath the covers with you.

     “Jack?”

     “Yeah, baby?”

     “You owe me a new couch.”