#use masks people >:c
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leclercskiesahead · 18 days ago
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“Muy cariño? Is that right?” “No, muy bonito.”
s: alejvndraf1
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spaciebabie · 10 months ago
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if you must use a protein mask/rice water for your hair i recommend using it in combination with a deep conditioner ESPECIALLY if your hair is prone 2 dryness or damaged from heat or coloring
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no-pasaran-99 · 6 days ago
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oop. crazy how many people i have unfollowed/blocked today for the cyclical and asinine sentiment along the lines of "well leftists are you HAPPY now????"
girl we've done this 3 elections in a row. definition of insanity to still be blaming this on us especially when the numbers do not support your accusations. like we voted for the fucking war criminals and you STILL lost.
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unproduciblesmackdown · 1 year ago
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spontaneous dig for marble hornets gamers from this decade < ago event, i guess aptly everyone seemed pretty elusive in the limited documentation but they were ready for "sickos show up for their sick little mask purchases" it seems
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good-night-space-kid · 2 years ago
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Getting sick for the first time since Covid started… starting to get a sore throat…… I think I will be passing away I hate this
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zebuie · 4 months ago
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✰𝐁𝐄𝐘𝐎𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐔𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐒✰
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༢ུ·⠀READ THIS. # DAILY CLICK ☾ MASTERLIST
⋆𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒⋆; ༊࿔ nerdyloser!ellie x cheerleader!reader.
ıllı⋆𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒⋆; ellie had a reputation as the school's perpetual loser. However, you saw her differently, choosing not to believe the gossip and stereotypes surrounding her.
⌖ ⋆𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒⋆; WC/ 7.1k , smutttt!!! , the glasses stay ONNNN!! , friends to lovers trope? , swearing , ellie touches herself to thought of reader , making out / kissing , fingering (e & r receiving) , strap on usage (r receiving) , strap on sucking (e receiving) , eating out (e & receiving) , nipple sucking (e & r receiving) , Ellie calls the strap her cock like once? (I think.) , lmk if there’s more ! 🧡
💌 ⋆𝐀/𝐍⋆; Heyeyyey guysss ive actually done nothing but rot in my bed this summer❤️ also promise I’ll reply to all of ur sent requests once I feel like it bc I’m sick😓anyways hope u enjoy this bery shitty fic mwahhh <3
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Ellie was often regarded as the school's perpetual loser, her status whispered about in hushed hallway conversations and painted with gossip on the bathroom walls. 
You, however, saw her through a different lens, one that didn't confine her to the stereotypes and ridicule that surrounded her. 
To you, she wasn't just a loser. She was cute, intriguing, and someone who held a silent charm that was lost on the rest of the school.
From the first time you laid eyes on her, you couldn't help but notice the way she moved through the crowded halls with a reserved confidence. 
Her short, tousled hair framed a face that held a hint of mystery, her sharp jawline and piercing eyes exuding a quiet strength. 
"
Between classes, you would often find her sitting alone in a secluded corner, engrossed in a book or sketching in a worn notebook. 
Her solitary moments, instead of appearing lonely, hinted at a depth and independence that captivated you. 
There was something about the way she carried herself, a quiet resilience that made her stand out amidst the cacophony of teen insecurities and conformity.
As you walked through the bustling corridors, your eyes landed on Ellie standing alone by her locker, engrossed in the world of her own mind. 
Taking a deep breath, you approached her, the familiar uniform of a cheerleader a stark contrast to her rebellious aura. 
The hallway filled with its usual chatter, but in that moment, it faded into the background as you gathered your courage.
"Hey Ellie," you called out, hoping to grab her attention, your heart beating a little faster than usual.
Ellie looked up, a flicker of surprise crossing her features as she registered your presence. She closed her locker and turned to face you, her gaze studying you with a mixture of curiosity and trepidation. 
The hallway seemed to shrink around the two of you, the world outside becoming a blur as your conversation began to unfold.
"What do you want?" her words carried a hint of defensiveness, a shield she had likely erected after years of ridicule. Yet, her eyes held a flicker of interest, intrigued by the unusual turn of events – a popular cheerleader like you speaking to her, the school's "loser".
"I just wanted to say hi," you responded, a nervous smile playing on your lips. Your cheerleader uniform with a oversized buttoned up varsity jacket, a symbol of the very social group that often looked down upon Ellie, seemed to create a wall of judgment in the air between you both. 
You pushed past it, your curiosity about her overshadowing any preconceived notions about her social status.
"Hi." Ellie said softly, clearly not used to people approaching her, especially not popular cheerleaders like you. 
She shifted her weight slightly, resting her hand on the locker behind her. There was a brief moment of silence as she studied you, trying to figure out what you wanted. 
Her piercing eyes, usually hidden behind a mask of apathy, were intense and searching. You could tell she was hesitant, bracing herself for whatever snide comment or put-down was about to come her way. 
But you surprised her, and yourself, by simply smiling and saying you wanted to say hi. Ellie's reserved demeanor softened slightly, a tiny glimmer of surprise and pleasure flashing in her eyes. 
She looked...flattered. "That's, um, that's really nice of you," she mumbled, her sharp jawline clenched slightly. 
It was clear she wasn't used to such kindness from her peers. You stood there for a moment, the noise of the hallway fading into the background. 
Ellie was even more captivating up close - those mysterious eyes, that delicate yet strong face. You found yourself drawn to her quiet strength and hidden depths.��
Finally breaking the silence, you asked her how she was doing, really doing. Ellie sighed, looking down at her feet. "I don't know. Same old, same old, I guess. Trying to fly under the radar." Her shrug was small, her shoulders barely rising. "People can be pretty cruel sometimes."
Ellie shrugged again, her eyes darting away uncomfortably. "I mean, I'm used to it by now. People have been talking shit about me since middle school. It never really bothers me anymore." Her voice was flat, devoid of emotion, but the tightness around her eyes betrayed the lie. 
Being the subject of constant ridicule and mockery can't be easy, even if you build up a protective shell. You sensed a deep sadness behind Ellie's apathetic facade. 
Reaching out tentatively, you placed your hand on her arm. The gesture startled her, her eyes snapping back to yours in surprise. It was a small, friendly touch, but it felt like a big statement - a rejection of the societal norms that put Ellie down and a personal challenge to get to know the real her. "I'm sorry people are so rude, Ellie. You don't deserve that." Your tone was gentle, sympathetic. 
"I know I'm not exactly known for being kind to those on the outskirts. But I want you to know I think you're interesting. And cool. And I'd like to get to know you better, if you're up for it."
Ellie looked at you with a mix of surprise and... was that a glimmer of hope? She seemed to be searching your face, trying to gauge your sincerity. 
After a moment, she shrugged again, but there was a hint of vulnerability behind it. "I don't know... I'm not really sure how to... hang out, I guess." Her cheeks flushed slightly, her gaze drifting down to her scuffed shoes. 
The admission felt awkward for her, like she was revealing a weakness. But it was also kind of adorable, seeing this tough exterior cracking just a bit. You had the sudden urge to reach out and hug her, to show her that not everyone judged her— but you didn't. "We can start simple," you suggested, your voice warm and encouraging. "We could study together sometime. Or grab coffee after school." 
Anything to help Ellie see that there are good people out there, if she just opens herself up to the possibility.
Ellie considered your offer, her brow furrowed in concentration. You could practically see the wheels turning in her head as she weighed the risks and rewards. Finally, she nodded, just a tiny jerk of her head but enough to see as a yes. "Okay... yeah. That could be cool, I guess." She smiled slightly, a real, genuine smile that transformed her entire face. 
You exchanged numbers, making plans to meet up the following week. As you parted ways, you couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement and anticipation. 
Fast forward a few days, and Ellie and you have become inseparable. You sit together at lunch, partner for projects, and study together almost every night. 
She's opened up to you in ways she never has with anyone else, sharing her dreams of becoming a writer and her passion for art. In turn, you've shared your own hopes and fears with her. 
She listens intently, her piercing eyes studying your face, her sharp jawline clenched in empathy. 
You've never felt so understood. The world seems to have slowed down since you've gotten closer, like you're moving to a different beat than everyone else. 
People still talk about Ellie behind her back, but you tune it out. You know the truth - that beneath that tough exterior is a kind, clever, beautiful soul. 
One that you're falling for more and more each day. But you're scared to ruin your friendship by confessing your feelings. 
So you keep it inside, buried beneath your skin like a constant ache. Hoping against hope that someday, somehow, Ellie will realize that you're the one who sees her, who truly gets her. And that maybe, just maybe, she might feel the same way.
You've been trying to get Ellie to come to one of your cheerleading practices for weeks, but she's been stubbornly refusing. She's always got some excuse - she's busy, she doesn't feel like it, she'd rather stay home and draw. 
But you're determined. Finally, you corner her after school one day. "Ellie, come on! It'll be fun, I promise. And I want you to meet the girls, they're really great once you get to know them." You plead, your voice high-pitched with desperation. 
Ellie sighs, her sharp jawline clenched in exasperation. But after a moment, she relents. "Fine, alright. But just for a little while, okay?" She agrees, clearly unenthused. 
You grin triumphantly and immediately start walking towards the gym. Ellie hurries to catch up, her eyes fixed on the ground. When you arrive at the practice, you head straight to the bleachers to change. 
Ellie follows at a distance, until she sees you pull off your uniform top and shake out your hair, dressed now in just a sports bra and mini skirt. Her eyes go wide, her cheeks flushing bright red as she takes in the sight of you in your cheer gear. "Fuck..." she mutters under her breath, her gaze darting away, suddenly very interested in her sneakers. The other girls greet you warmly, and you introduce Ellie to the team.
You and the girls start practicing a routine, dancing and cheering in unison. Ellie watches from the bleachers, her eyes glued to you, unable to look away. 
Your short skirt flutters as you move, giving glimpses of your thighs and ass. The sweat glistens on your skin, making your sports bra cling to your chest. 
Every flex of your muscles, every spin and leap, sends Ellie's heart racing. She's never seen you like this before - all energy and enthusiasm, your beauty and femininity on full display. It's intoxicating. 
She has to tear her eyes away, squeezing them shut as she tries to regain control of herself. Because seeing you like this, it's making her feel things. 
Things she shouldn't, not to her friend. Not to anyone, really. Her cheeks are burning, and she can't seem to catch her breath. 
The fact that her pussy is throbbing with need and her boxers are drenched doesn't help matters. Shifting uncomfortably in her seat, Ellie prays the practice will be over soon, before she does something stupid.
The practice goes by in a blur for Ellie, her mind foggy with desire. She keeps her gaze fixed on the floor, scared to look up and risk seeing more of your tempting body. 
But her imagination fills in the blanks, painting vivid pictures of your lithe form dancing just for her. By the time you wrap up, Ellie is a hot mess - flushed, breathless, and seriously bothered. 
She mumbles something about needing to go and dashes out of the gym, not caring if she just bails on you. She needs to get home, alone, and deal with the ache between her legs. It's going to be a long night.
Ellie rushes home, her heart pounding and her mind reeling. She storms up the stairs to her room, slamming the door behind her. Falling face-first on her bed, she lets out a frustrated groan, her boxers soaked through. 
She squeezes her eyes shut, trying to block out the image of you dancing in that tiny skirt, but it's no use. Behind her closed lids, you're still there, bouncing around in your cheer gear, just for her. 
A low moan escapes her lips as she palms her pussy, stroking her cunt slowly. Her mind fills with filthy thoughts of you - of pinning you down and tasting your pussy, of wrapping her long fingers around your lithe throat and making you cum on command. 
She imagines herself fucking you senseless, pounding your tight cunt into submission. The fantasies are wild, rough, and exactly what she needs to relieve the ache between her legs.
Ellie loses herself in the pleasure, her pussy wet and throbbing as she jerks herself off to thoughts of you. Her pussy clenches and drips, her thighs trembling as the orgasm builds. 
"Fuck," she hisses through gritted teeth, her hips bucking wildly into her touch. The moment she comes, she collapses back on the bed, gasping for air. 
Her mind is hazy, her chest heaving. But even as the bliss fades, a nagging sense of shame creeps in. What is wrong with her? You're her best friend! She can't possibly actually want to fuck you, can she? 
The thought sends a pang of guilt through her, but it's too late - the damage is done. She can't unsee you dancing in that skirt, can't unfeel the way her body responds to your presence. And as she lays there, her heart racing and her skin slick with sweat, Ellie knows one thing for sure - she's falling for you, hard. And it's only a matter of time before you find out.
Over the next two days, Ellie tries to push her feelings down, to pretend like nothing changed. But it did. Every time you're near, she feels that old ache returning, her body reacting like it did when she saw you in that skirt. 
She's miserable, torn between her growing feelings for you and the guilt of keeping them a secret. One evening, you stop by her house after school. You knock on her door, and she opens it, looking frazzled and stressed. "Can you come back later?" She asks, her voice strained. 
Something is definitely going on with her. You nod, confused, and leave. But as you walk away, you see Ellie slump against the doorframe, looking like she's about to collapse. You turn back, concerned, and ask if she's okay. For a moment, she just stares at you. "yeah yeah, all good." She replies, and you just walk away.
You notice a change in Ellie's behavior - she's suddenly really busy all the time. When you invite her to hang out, she always has an excuse. "Sorry, I have a project due soon and I really need to focus," she says, avoiding eye contact. Or "I have family stuff I need to take care of, maybe we can hang out another time?" She's gone from eager best friend to distant acquaintance almost overnight. 
It's like she's avoiding you on purpose. You're confused, but you try to give her space, hoping she'll come around. But you can't shake the feeling that you did something wrong.
You've had enough. A few days without Ellie in your life is more than enough time to realize just how much you need her. You need your best friend back. 
So you show up at her doorstep, determined to get some answers. When she opens the door, you're ready. "What's going on, Ellie?" You demand, your voice shaking slightly. She looks taken aback, like she wasn't expecting this confrontation. "Wh-what are you talking about?" She stammers, her sharp jawline clenched anxiously. 
You take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself. "Don't lie, Ellie. I know you've been avoiding me for weeks. Something's wrong, and I want to know what it is." There's a long, tense moment of silence. 
Then, finally, Ellie sighs, her shoulders slumping in defeat. "Fine," she says, stepping aside to let you in. "Come in."
You sit down with Ellie, genuinely concerned. "You can tell me anything, you know that right?" You say softly. Ellie looks down at her hands, fidgeting with her fingers. "It's just... school has been really hard lately. And homework. I just haven't had the time or 
energy to focus on anything else." 
She shrugs, her eyes still fixed on her lap. You process her words, trying to understand. But you can't help but notice the way she's avoiding eye contact, the way her voice lacks its usual conviction. 
You get the sense that there's more to the story, that Ellie is hiding something from you. But you're not sure what. Frustrated but willing to give her the benefit of the doubt.
Over the next few weeks, you keep a close eye on Ellie, making sure she doesn't slip back into her old avoidance habits. Slowly but surely, she starts to come back around, agreeing to hang out occasionally. 
It's not the same as before - there's a new tension between you two, a nervous energy. You can't quite put your finger on it, but something has definitely changed. 
One night, you're studying together at your place. Ellie is across from you, focused intently on her book. You can't help but steal glances at her, drinking in the sight of her intelligent face, her delicate features. Suddenly, she looks up and catches you staring. Her cheeks flush, and she quickly looks away. Awkward.
Ellie shifts uncomfortably, Her eyes dart around the room, anywhere but at you. "Wh-what are you looking at?" She asks, her voice tight. You're taken aback - why is she getting defensive? You weren't looking at her like she was stupid or anything. "Nothing! I wasn't looking at anything." You stammer, feeling a twinge of embarrassment. 
The silence that follows is thick and heavy. Finally, Ellie speaks up again, her voice barely above a whisper. "Can we just... focus on our homework?"
You nod, trying to brush off the weirdness. But as you both continue studying, the atmosphere between you two is strained. Every time you glance over at Ellie, she's looking away, her face flushed. 
You start to wonder if she's really okay. As the night winds down, you realize you haven't heard a peep out of her in a while. 
You look over to find her sound asleep at your desk, her head resting on her folded arms. You can't help but smile - the girl may be tough as nails, but she's still got a soft side. Gently, you reach out and brush a stray lock of hair from her face.
You freeze, hand hovering inches from Ellie's cheek. In that moment, everything clicks into place. Your feelings for her, the way your body reacts whenever she's near, the guilt you've been carrying around - it all makes sense. 
You're in love with your best friend, and she's been trying to tell you without saying the words. The realization is overwhelming, and you're not sure what to do with it. You look down at Ellie, taking in her peaceful slumbering face. 
For a long moment, you just stare. Then, with a deep breath, you lean in and press your lips to her forehead in a gentle, chaste kiss.
The next day at school, you're on edge. What if Ellie was awake when you kissed her on her forehead. You can't help but worry as you wait for her to make a move. 
But to your surprise, Ellie seems completely unfazed. She walks up to you in the hallway, grinning as usual. "Hey, what's up?" She asks, like nothing out of the ordinary happened. You blink, unsure how to respond. 
Do you confront her about your feelings, or do you play it cool? Before you can decide, Ellie leans in and brushes her lips against your cheek in a quick, friendly kiss. "See you later," she murmurs, before turning and walking away. Your heart is racing, your mind reeling. Did she just... kiss you like that? And if so, what does it mean?
Over the next few weeks, you and Ellie settle into a new normal. Your friendship is still there, but it's different now - there's a romantic undercurrent running beneath the surface. Every now and then, one of you will lean in to kiss the other's cheek or forehead. It's sweet, but also confusing. 
Are you guys just staying friends, or is something more brewing? One evening, you're hanging out again, this time watching a movie at the cinema. About halfway through, you get bored so you turn and ask her "I'm bored...can we do something?"
Ellie glances over at you, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "I know just the thing," she whispers with a sly smile. 
Before you can respond, she reaches over and takes your hand, her fingers intertwining with yours. You feel a jolt of electricity at her touch, your heart beginning to race. 
The cinema falls away as you gaze into her eyes, the rest of the world fading to black. "Come on," she says, tugging gently on your hand. You let her lead you out of the theater and down the dark, empty hallway. No one's around to notice the way your pulse quickens or how hard it is to breathe.
Ellie raises an eyebrow as you drag her into the bathroom, but she doesn't resist. "What's up?" She asks, looking around the small room in confusion. 
You fidget with your shirt, suddenly self-conscious. "Can't go out there looking like a mess," you mutter. Without thinking, you turn to Ellie and grab a handful of her hair, pulling her in close. 
Your lips meet in a searing kiss, all the pent-up tension between you exploding in that moment. Ellie melts into your embrace, her hands coming up to grip your shoulders. 
The kiss breaks after what feels like an eternity, leaving you both breathless. For a moment, you just stare at each other, hearts racing. Then, with a shy smile, Ellie reaches up and fixes your crooked necklace. "You look fine," she whispers.
Ellie's glasses slide down her nose as she leans in for the kiss, the frames tilting rakishly. After you break the kiss, she pushes them back up, blinking rapidly. "We should probably get back," she says softly, glancing towards the bathroom door. 
You nod, not wanting to face the crowded cinema again just yet. With Ellie's hand in yours, you leave the bathroom and make your way back to your seats. 
As you sit down, Ellie adjusts her glasses once more, her fingers brushing the lenses. The light catches on the silver frames, making them sparkle. You can't help but stare at her, your heart full to bursting.
The rest of the movie is a blur. You can't focus on anything except for the girl beside you. Every now and then, your knees will bump, sending electric jolts through your body. 
When the credits start rolling, you both sit there in stunned silence. Then, without a word, Ellie takes your hand and leads you out of the cinema. 
The cool night air is a welcome relief, but it does nothing to calm your racing heart. You walk in silence for a few blocks, not knowing what to say. Finally, you look over at Ellie, who's walking with her eyes downcast. "Thank you," you say softly, not meeting her gaze. "For tonight." She nods and smiles, walking you home. When you get home she plants a soft kiss to your cheek and says goodbye.
 The next day at school, you and Ellie are back to your old selves, or so it seems. You're sitting together at lunch, leaning in close as you talk. Every now and then, one of you will brush a strand of hair from the other's face. 
It's subtle, but charged with a new meaning. In class, you catch Ellie glancing at you from under her lashes, her cheeks flushed. You feel like you're walking on eggshells, unsure of where you stand with her. 
Then, in the middle of a lesson, disaster strikes. Your textbook slips from your grasp, landing with a thud at your feet. You bend down to pick it up, unaware of the brief but tantalizing view you're giving Ellie. 
Her eyes go wide as you're bent over in your short skirt, the fabric riding up to give a peek of stocking and skin. You stand up quickly, face burning. Ellie looks away, trying to hide her smirk.
That night, you're scrolling through social media when an invitation for a party catches your eye. It's being held at a friend's house, and they're encouraging everyone to come. 
You hesitate for a moment before texting Ellie. "Hey, wanna go to this party tonight? I know it's last minute, but it could be fun." You send the message, hoping she'll say yes. A few minutes later, her response pops up. "Sure why not" You grin, feeling a rush of excitement. 
You're not sure what the night will bring, but you're ready for whatever happens. When you arrive at the party, it's already in full swing. Ellie takes your hand as you make your way through the crowd, the two of you laughing and joking. But every now and then, your eyes meet and hold, the connection between you sparking like a live wire.
The party is in full swing, with pulsing music and bodies moving to the beat. You grab Ellie's hand, pulling her onto the makeshift dance floor. "Dance with me," you demand, your voice urgent. Ellie can't help but laugh at your insistent tone. "Okay, okay," she relents, letting you pull her close. 
As the song builds, you spin Ellie around until she's facing away from you. Without a word, you grab her hips and start grinding your ass against her crotch. 
Ellie lets out a surprised yelp before melting into your touch, her own hips starting to move in time with yours. 
The sensation is electric, your bodies moving together like they were made to. You're oblivious to everything around you, lost in the feeling of Ellie pressed against you.
As you continue to grind against each other, Ellie places her hands on your hips, guiding you in a slow, sensual circle. 
The motion is hypnotic, drawing you both into a trance-like state. The music swirls around you, blending with the sound of your heavy breathing. 
Every now and then, one of you will let out a soft moan, the sound swallowed up by the thumping bass. The crowd around you fades away until it's just the two of you, lost in your own little world. 
Ellie pulls you back, her chest pressing against your spine. You can feel the rapid beat of her heart, matching your own. Without looking, you reach back and lace your fingers with hers, the gesture intimate and possessive.
You spin around suddenly, your lips crashing against Ellie's in a rough, needy kiss. Your tongues tangle as you devour each other, the sweet taste of saliva and lust mixing in your mouth. 
Ellie kisses you back just as fiercely, her hands coming up to grip your shirt. You rip yourself away after what feels like an eternity, both of you breathing heavily. 
Ellie's lips are swollen, glasses askew and slightly reddened from the force of your kisses. You stare at each other, chests heaving, hearts pounding. Without a word, you take Ellie's hand and drag her out of the party, into the cool night air. 
The music and laughter fade behind you, replaced by the sound of your own racing pulses.
As you step outside, Ellie suddenly tightens her grip on your hand, her fingers digging into your skin. You look down to see her eyes flashing with an intense emotion. 
Without a word, she starts pulling you along the sidewalk, your feet moving quickly to keep up with her long strides. 
You don't resist, your curiosity piqued. Soon you're at Ellie's front door, her hand fumbling in her pocket for keys. 
She unlocks the door and pulls you inside, slamming it shut behind you. In the dim lighting of the foyer, Ellie turns to face you, her expression fierce. "Mine," she hisses, before crashing her lips against yours in a dominant, claiming kiss.
Ellie kisses you with a possession and hunger that takes your breath away. Her tongue plunges into your mouth, exploring every inch. One of her hands fists in your hair, holding you in place as she devours you. 
The other hand roams your body, slipping under your shirt to brand you with her touch. You feel like prey being consumed by a starved animal. 
Ellie breaks the kiss, panting heavily. Without a word, she grabs your hand and drags you up the stairs to her bedroom. She slams the door shut behind you, locking it with a resounding click. In the dim light, you can see the intensity in her eyes as she advances on you. "I've been waiting for this," she whispers, her voice husky. "I'm going to make you feel so good."
Ellie kisses you with a possession and hunger that takes your breath away. Her tongue plunges into your mouth, exploring every inch. One of her hands fists in your hair, holding you in place as she devours you. 
The other hand roams your body, slipping under your shirt to brand you with her touch. You feel like prey being consumed by a starved animal. 
Ellie breaks the kiss, panting heavily. Without a word, she grabs your hand and drags you up the stairs to her bedroom. 
She slams the door shut behind you, locking it with a resounding click. In the dim light, you can see the intensity in her eyes as she advances on you. "I've been waiting for this," she whispers, her voice husky. "I'm going to make you feel so good."
As Ellie advances on you, her glasses slip down her nose, the frames tilting rakishly. In the dim light, you can see the glint of the silver hinges and temple pieces. 
She reaches up to push them back into place, her fingers trembling slightly with urgency. "I've been wanting to do this for so long," she breathes, her pupils blown wide with desire. Her hands come up to grip your shoulders, pulling you close until her body is pressed hard against yours. 
You can feel every curve and angle of her, the softness of her breasts, the hardness of her stomach. Ellie's lips brush against your ear, her hot breath sending shivers down your spine. "Gonna take my time with you," she whispers, her voice sending sparks of anticipation through your veins.
You're acutely aware of what you're wearing as Ellie presses her body against yours - the thin fabric of your shirt doing little to conceal your heated skin, the mini skirt riding up your thighs with every brush of her hips. 
You can feel Ellie's eyes on you, her gaze igniting with desire at the sight of your barely covered curves. 
She runs her hands down your sides, fingertips grazing the underside of your breasts, teasing the swell of your hips. "You look so hot right now," Ellie purrs, her hot breath tickling your ear. She nibbles on your lobe, her teeth sharp and excitingly painful. 
You let out a soft gasp, your own hunger rising to match hers. Without a word, Ellie starts tugging your shirt over your head, revealing your bra-clad breasts to her hungry gaze. She latches onto one nipple, suckling hard as her fingers hook into your skirt and start to pull.
Ellie's mouth is a hot, slick wonder as she suckles your nipples, her tongue swirling around the hardened buds. You arch your back, pressing yourself more fully into her eager mouth. Every suck sends a jolt of pleasure straight to your core. 
Meanwhile, her fingers continue their exploration of your body, dipping beneath your skirt to find the slick heat between your thighs. Two fingers push inside, curling against your sensitive walls as she strokes and teases. Your hips buck involuntarily, seeking more of that delicious friction. 
Ellie hums against your skin, the vibration adding another layer of sensation as her fingers pump steadily. Your breath comes in ragged gasps, the dual stimuli threatening to overwhelm you with pleasure. 
You can feel your orgasm building, the pressure coiling tighter and tighter. With Ellie's mouth on your nipples and her fingers inside you, you're teetering on the brink of a powerful climax.
The orgasm crashes over you like a wave, your entire body convulsing with the intensity of it. You cry out, the sound muffled by Ellie's mouth still attached to your breast. 
She rides out your climax with you, sucking gently as you tremble and gasp. Finally, you go limp in her arms, boneless and thoroughly satisfied. Ellie pulls back, her lips glistening with your milk. 
Without a word, she drops to her knees in front of you, her glasses sliding down her nose once more. She looks up at you through the frames, her eyes dark with desire. "I need to taste you," she whispers, her voice husky with need. Before you can respond, her tongue is on you, licking and probing. The sudden change has you quivering again, your nerves freshly frayed.
As Ellie's tongue works its magic, her glasses start to fog up from the steam of your wetness. The condensation clouds the lenses, blurring her vision. 
But she doesn't stop, too focused on worshipping you with her mouth to care. "fuck baby, you taste so good," she moans, the words muffled and indistinct through the fogged glass. 
She laps at you eagerly, her breath hot on your sensitive flesh. Occasionally, she'll lift her head to glare down at you through the milky white lenses, as if daring you to tell her to stop. But you won't. You'll let her eat you out until you're ready to explode again.
As the aftershocks of your second orgasm subside, Ellie sits back on her heels, her glasses still fogged up. She looks at you with a serious expression, even as her fingers start rummaging through her dresser drawer.
 "do u trust me?," she says softly, pulling out a sleek strap-on. Her eyes meet yours, searching. "promise I'll make it feel good." She holds out the wand, offering it to you with a vulnerable smile. 
You nod eagerly, your eyes squeezing shut as if in reverence. Strap on in Ellie's hand, her fingers wrapping around the slick shaft. She stands up, as she steps out of her pants. Underneath, she's wearing only a pair of boxers, the fabric stretched tightly across her mound now the strap-on hanging low on her hips. Her shirt remains on, the hem riding high on her stomach. 
Ellie looks at you over her shoulder, her glasses still fogged from her earlier efforts. She gives you a sultry smile, her eyes dark with promise. Then she's turning around, the strap-on swaying between her legs as she walks back towards you. "ready?" she whispers, her voice husky with anticipation. 
Without another word, she presses the slick head of the toy against your entrance, lining it up carefully. Then she's pushing forward, the broad tip parting your folds. 
You gasp at the sudden intrusion, your eyes flying open. Ellie doesn't stop until the hilt is buried inside you, the toy nestled deep. She gives your hip a gentle stroke, as if checking you're ready. she asks you to get on your hands and knees then, she starts to thrust.
Ellie starts to thrust the toy in and out of you, the slick shaft gliding easily inside your slick heat. She sets a slow, steady rhythm, her hips undulating sensually. 
As she picks up pace, she leans over you, her chest pressing against your back. You can feel her hard nipples poking into your skin, even through her shirt. "Fuck, you're so tight," she hisses in your ear. "Gonna make me cum just feeling you clench around this." Her fingers tighten on your hip, her breathing growing more erratic.
 "Gonna fill this pussy up," she continues, her voice low and filthy. "Mine, you're so fucking mine ."
Ellie's words send a shiver down your spine, her dark promises only adding to the intense pleasure coursing through you. You can feel your body responding, your walls rippling around the toy buried inside. 
Ellie must feel it too, because she lets out a triumphant moan. "That's it, baby. Cmon," She starts thrusting harder, the broad shaft stirring up your insides. 
The wet sounds of your coupling fill the room, mingling with your heavy breathing and Ellie's filthy encouragements. "Fuck yeah, you like that," she growls, her fingers biting into your flesh. "Take my cock, fuckin-" her words spur you on, the forbidden heat of them only adding to the intensity. 
Your orgasm starts to build, the pressure coiling tighter and tighter. Ellie must sense it too, because she's panting heavily now, her hips slapping against your ass as she chases her own climax.
As you start to come down from your intense orgasm, you realize with a start that Ellie hasn't let you finish yet. 
Your sensitive walls are still fluttering, your body tingling with oversensitization. Ellie keeps thrusting, the toy rubbing over your most tender spots. 
But she seems to be holding back, her hips moving in a slow, shallow grind. Your eyes fly open, meeting Ellie's gaze over your shoulder. She gives you a wicked smile, her eyes dark with desire. "Not yet," she mouths, the word silent but clear. 
She continues to tease you, the toy gliding over your aching flesh. You're trapped in a state of suspended pleasure, desperate to come again but unable to until Ellie says so.
A few minutes pass, the air thick with tension. Ellie's thrusts continue, the toy bumping against her own clit with every stroke. 
The stimulation seems to be getting to her, her breaths coming in sharper gasps. You can feel her heart racing against your back, her excitement palpable. Suddenly, Ellie stills, holding the toy deep inside you. 
For a long moment, she's absolutely still, her body rigid. Then, with a sharp cry, she pulls out of you and comes hard, her orgasm pulsing through her veins. "Fuck yes" she screams, her fingers finding your clit. 
With a final, powerful stroke, she sends you hurtling into a second climax. This time, you come undone, your body shaking and convulsing as Ellie milks you with firm, deliberate strokes. You collapse back against her, utterly spent, as she continues to bring you down from your highs.
After a few seconds of gentle aftershocks, you're able to crawl up to Ellie, your eyes locking onto the toy still glistening with your combined juices. Without hesitation, you lean down and suck the slick shaft into your mouth, licking and cleaning Ellie's toy with eager, filthy enthusiasm. Ellie throws her head back, her eyes rolling as she enjoys the sight. "Oh fuck yes, just like that," she moans, her voice dripping with lust. "Holy fucking shit..."
You continue sucking the toy, licking every inch of Ellie's deliciously dirty shaft. But then, without warning, you suddenly pull away. 
Confused, Ellie looks down to see you picking up the toy and pulling it away. Before she can react, you pull down her boxers to expose her pale, sensitive flesh. 
You dive in, your tongue lapping eagerly at her intimate skin. Ellie's eyes go wide, her body arching in shock. "Wha- what are you...?" Her question trails off into a needy moan as you start to eat her out.
You continue eating Ellie out, your tongue dancing across her sensitive skin. She tosses her head back, her eyes rolling to the back of her skull as she loses herself to the sensations. "Hhhnnn..." is all she can manage, her body going limp in abandonment.
You don't stop at just eating Ellie out - you bring your fingers into the act as well. One hand dives between her thighs, the fingers of your index and middle finger finding her sensitive entrance. 
You tease the edges, your tongue probing deeply as your fingers start to pump inside her. Ellie is lost, her eyes rolling back as she surrenders to your dual ministrations. "Shiiit..." is all she can manage, her body shaking with the force of her climax.
While Ellie is still recovering from her intense orgasm, you crawl up the bed, your movements unhurried. When you reach her, you gently grab the hem of her shirt and sports bra. 
With slow, reverent fingers, you start to pull them up her body. Ellie assists by lifting her arms, letting you strip away her last bits of clothing. 
You reveal her bare skin to the cool air, her pale flesh dotted with the rosy aftermath of her climax. You take a moment to simply look at her, drinking in the sight of her naked body. Then, with a hungry glance, you start to kiss and lick your way across her chest.
You continue licking and kissing Ellie's bare skin, your tongue darting across her collarbone. She tastes so sweet, like honey and salt. You move lower, your lips finding her nipple. You suck the bud into your mouth, teasing it with your tongue. 
Ellie arches into your touch, her fingers tangles in your hair. "Mmmph..." is her only response, the sound muffled by your mouth on her breast. 
You nip and tease the tender flesh, earning breathy little gasps from Ellie. Her back arches, pushing her chest further into your hungry mouth.
You continue teasing Ellie's nipple, your teeth grazing the sensitive flesh. Her back arches, pushing her breast further into your mouth. You suck harder, your lips pulling tightly around the bud. 
Ellie gasps, her fingers tightening in your hair. You let go with a pop, looking up to see stars in Ellie's eyes. Her chest heaves with exertion, her pink nipples stiff with arousal. 
You start to trail kisses down her stomach, your fingers dipping into her navel. "Please," Ellie whimpers, her voice hitching with need. "Don't stop."
You continue trailing kisses down Ellie's stomach, your fingers dancing across her skin. Eventually, you reach the hem of the bed, and you plant a soft kiss on her skin before pulling away. 
You collapse on top of her, your naked bodies pressing together. You look up at her, your lips curving into a wicked smirk. Then you capture her mouth in a searing kiss, your tongues entwining. 
The kiss goes on for a long moment, your bodies tangled together in a mess of limbs and lips and heated skin. Eventually, you break apart for air, your chests heaving. Ellie looks at you with hazy, lust-filled eyes, her cheeks flushed. "Holy shit," she breathes.
You continue making out with Ellie, your lips moving hungrily over hers. Your hands roam her body, touching and teasing wherever they land. The kiss grows more heated, more desperate. 
Ellie's fingers tangle in your hair, her tongue dueling with yours. The world narrows down to the two of you, lost in a haze of lust and desire. Time seems to slow, each second stretching out into an eternity. 
There's only the two of you, tangled together in a messy tangle of arms and legs, your lips locked in a passionate embrace.
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battymommastuff · 9 months ago
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The Fire-Eater
Batmom x Batman, Batmom x Batfamily
Prompt: While digging through the attic, Dick Grayson and Jason Todd uncover a secret about their adoptive mother. A secret that reveals the true, and dark story of the most loved couple in Gotham City
Masterlist
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!!DISCLAIMER!! - This likely won't be comic accurate (Obviously), but I did draw inspiration from the comics. If you are looking for something accurate, then this fanfic isn't for you.
*cough*
"Jesus Christ, you'd think they would dust up here once in a while." Jason rasps as he waves his hand in the air to clear the cloud of dust. Dick just rolled his eyes and lifted another box out of the way, causing another cloud of dust to poof into the air, "Where is this damn blanket anyway?" He asked, ripping open an old box to look for the blanket in question. Why? You, their adopted mother, is currently carrying their youngest sibling. The first, and only pregnancy of yours. Seeing that you aren't as young as you used to be, the pregnancy is a high risk. As per doctor's orders, you were to remain on bed rest now that you were close to your due date.
Before that, you'd been working on the nursery. Everything was perfect, but you were missing one thing. Bruce's baby blanket. A blanket you'd only ever seen in pictures, but knew that you wanted it for your future child. Unfortunately, that didn't seem to be possible. All of your children were far too old for the blanket when they were adopted. Now you had your baby on the way, and you wanted that blanket. To prevent you from climbing up there yourself, your two oldest sons decided to.
"Some of the boxes are older than me." Dick joked as he held up a box of old photo albums. The date on the box was ten years before he was born. He set the box down, and kept shifting through the boxes. They were looking for a box with Bruce's birth year on it. All of his baby items were stored there. He moved another box then frowned when he saw one tucked in a far corner. It was opened, and he saw a black outfit lined with red sequins, an outfit he swore he's seen before...a circus outfit. What caught his eye next was a rolled up poster, "Hey, Jason." He called out while picking up the poster. Dick unrolled it slowly, then felt his heart sink to his stomach.
A poster for Haly's Circus. The Circus he was apart of before his biological parents died. He still remembered that day as if it just happened. On the poster was a woman eating fire. Her outfit, a black leotard with red sequins lining it. (H/C) hair, and (S/C) skin. Unless Bruce had a certain type, there was no way it couldn't be you. How? How was this possible? He remembered meeting you that night. You were dressed as if you just walked out of business meeting, and you were with Bruce. The date on the poster dated years before you ever met Bruce.
Dick set the poster down right as Jason approached him, still grumbling about all of the dust. He picked up a small book next. Opening it, he found pictures. Old pictures of you, and other members of the circus. You and Haly...you and his parents. You knew his parents? One picture was of you, his dad, his mom, and him as a newborn. You knew who he was before you ever met him? How come he never knew this? Why did you leave the circus? How did you end up marrying Bruce Wayne of all people?
"Holy shit, Mom never told us this." Jason said while holding up the torches and an old bottle of alcohol. What they saw in the bottom of the box made both of their spines tingle. A mask...a Court of the Owls mask. Dick knew the story, and he knew his lineage. He knew his potential fate, had he never been adopted. Why did you have a mask? All of these questions in his head, and he knew the one person who could answer them.
He shoved all the items back into the box, and stormed out of the attic with it. Dick wanted answers, and he wanted them now. He carried the box through the manor with Jason on his heels, while holding back his tears. He felt lied to? Betrayed? He didn't know, but he needed to know. He felt like you were an entirely new person now. Dick opened the door to your bedroom. You were watching as Stephanie painted your toenails, and Damian was lecturing you on your health.
"Oh! Did you-..." You cut off when you saw the box he was carrying. It'd been years, and you forgot about that box. Honestly, you thought you threw it out, "Dick..." Your oldest son walked over and slammed the box on the bed, causing your two other sons and Stephanie to glare at him.
"Start talking, Mom...right now."
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idontknowreallyidontcare · 1 year ago
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KorTac members are WHORES, you’re only safe because you’re Colonel’s favorite.
You never talk, always have your mask on and the clothes and gear you have to wear daily doesn’t give too much information about what you could be. Male? Female? Only you know, and only you’ll decide when and how you’ll tell others (at least that’s what you thought).
When women from the base hit on you, hugging, tugging on your arms, pressing their tits all over you, you definitely get flustered, but you don’t know how to break it to them, that you���re actually a female and pretty much enjoy yourself every night by watching big muscled men jerking off on the unholy sites, with their hairy torsos and their angry looking cocks.
One day, some rookies (too fed up with your mysteriousness) drag you to the communal showers, laughing and calling you out on never joining them for one. Making silly jokes as ‘you’re afraid of us or our dicks?’ ‘What’s it big boy? Your cocks too big to grant us the pleasure of its presence in the same room as us?’ Or ‘no I bet it’s actually small, he just doesn’t want us to see it!’ Or ‘guys leave him alone, you’re gonna get in trouble with colonel’
As you are being dragged, you arrive inside the showers, everything is on display and you know it, there’s no curtains, no privacy, of course, that’s why you shower always at night and ALONE. But when you’re thrown inside and all you can see are huge junks, wet muscles, tensed abs and men moaning, you truly understand how much you actually fucked up for wanting to cover up your identity so bad and leaving people just assume your gender.
Your colonel suddenly facing your way with his hard dick pointed directly at you it’s not making it easier for you. But the rookies starting to trash you around, throwing you from ones arms to another, while starting to jokingly remove your clothes it’s not of help either.
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Hlep I have some big ideas w this one c:
I just wanna say that the rookies will definitely not be playing with us in that sense, and this will probably be a KorTac x some other members probably from taskforce141. Probably an orgy thingie or idk, still have to decide.
Under here a poll with the characters I have in mind, just vote and the most rated ones are getting it. I thing of making it with at least 5 men x reader :3
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sunnymoonxx · 4 months ago
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❝self destructive tendencies❞ | qimir x fem!reader
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pairing: qimir x fem!reader
● this is a 3rd pov, if you want to read 2nd pov, here●
summary: A week has passed since the battle on Khofar and the startling reveal of her former friend. Qimir, the man behind the mask and the murderer of her comrades took her to a remote island, far away from the Republic's surveillance, after she sustained severe injuries. She's been keeping her distance from him, trying to ignore her hidden feelings. Yet, when his thoughts merge with hers, the vow she made to herself becomes almost impossible to keep.
warnings: english is not my first language, sexual tension, lots of sexual tension, corruption, sexual themes/dreams, E Y E C O N T A C T, qimir, mentions of blood and injuries
author's note: I could not be a jedi I'd turn into aquaman if he asked me to join him
now playing, love in the sky by the weeknd
*:..。♡*゚¨゚゚·*:..。♡౨ৎ 🍓。˚🍰♡ ˚..。♡*゚¨゚゚·*:..。♡ ︎
The moon hung low over the horizon, casting an eerie glow on the waves that lapped against the shores of the ghostly island. Qimir’s silhouette stood out against the backdrop of the night sky, his presence a constant reminder of the blood and carnage he left on Khofar. As she lay on the rough sand, the pain from her injuries pulsed faintly, and she could not shake the mixture of fear and thirst that his proximity stirred within her. The island was a planet unknown to her, and as much as she tried to examine the surface, its location remained elusive. She supposed it might have been somewhere in the Outer Rim or beyond. Somewhere where the Republic would have a difficult way of finding her. World away from the Republic’s watchful eyes, and here, with only Qimir for company, she felt both vulnerable and strangely contented.
She decided to relax on the beach, further away from Qimir’s constant presence that melted her thoughts. However, luck wasn't on her side; minutes after settling in, he walked past her to his favorite bathing spot, smirk on his face as he acknowledged her presence. It was late at night, her legs and arms sore from the repetitive training she put herself through. The island offered few diversions. Waiting for Qimir’s next move or for Sol to find her wasn’t her idea of a perfect day. The injuries covering her body were difficult to ignore, and she refused to let Qimir get close enough to her to heal them. She told herself she would rather bleed out than feel his touch on her skin. Deep down, though, she knew the real reason for keeping him at bay.
So, she lay there, absentmindedly playing with a rock she found, irritated by his presence but too weary to consider moving again. She had to admit her fault; she had set up camp right in front of his favorite spot. Over the past week, she had seen him bare many times. First unbothered but lately it had gotten under her skin. She had been friends with Qimir for some time before discovering his true identity behind the mask and his responsibility for her friends' murders. Their deaths pained her, but the betrayal and realization of his deception cut deeper. After many years, she thought she found herself a friend outside the temple. One that she could share her interests and secrets with, without the fear of being judged by the Jedi. She told him about her fears and likes. Her doubts in the order and her wish to help people as much as she could. About her hate and desire. The Sith emotions. Now he’s using them to lure her in and trap her on the other side.
She wasn’t the most perceptive, but his intentions were clear. He knew her feelings, her likes, and dislikes; she had shared them with him when she believed he was her friend and a supplier. Even a blind person could see his thoughts, and her strength in the Force allowed her to delve into his mind, revealing more than she wished to know.
She couldn’t tear her eyes away as he slowly shed his clothes to enter the water, a routine he seemed to relish. Despite her experiences in battles and missions, witnessing the horrible conditions and lack of hygiene, even her comrades didn’t bathe as frequently as Qimir did before her. She considered herself fortunate; at least he smelled good, even if the scent of sandalwood mixed with citrus fruit drove her mad. She smelled it when she woke up, during meals and training, and before sleep. She felt him everywhere. She wasn’t sure for how much longer she could endure it.
She studied the muscles of his back as he swam slowly, admiring them from her vantage point. He was undeniably strong, scars marring his skin a testament to the pain he had endured. She observed how his dark hair moved with his motions, how he ran his long thick fingers through it while washing it gently. His biceps tensed as he splashed water around his neck, and she noticed the way he caressed his chest, attempting to cleanse away the day’s dirt.
It was only when she accidentally crushed the rock in half that she realized the intensity of her stare. Clearing her throat, she sat up and leaned against the mossy bank behind her, feeling shame wash over her. She was convinced his own dreams had started to corrupt her.
One of the curses of being a Jedi was the ability to read minds, and Qimir was no exception. She saw his thoughts vividly, filled with bright colors that sent adrenaline coursing through her veins. She wondered if he wanted her to delve into his mind, to make her believe he desired her, or if he simply didn’t care. She feared he could read her thoughts too, despite her lifelong ability to block out others with ease.
She lied to herself, convincing herself that she was immune to his ideas, desires, and magnetic charm. But every time he looked at her, towered over her, or she smelled him in the air, her knees buckled, her stomach tightened, and she fought against the need to press her legs together. She felt sick, and his mind brushing against hers didn’t help.
She felt it every time he drew near. He visualized her hands in his mind, how they caressed his scars and shoulders. She saw his hair falling down as he towered over her, gently pushing her against the cold floor of his cave. She felt his breath against her neck, his fingers pulling her hair, his skin pressed against hers. In his dreams, she never resisted. He was corrupting her in his dreams, and she never once objected in them. She was embarrassed he got her mannerisms right.
She was so lost in their shared thoughts that she didn’t notice Qimir making his way out of the water, his eyes fixated on her with dangerous intensity. He carefully leaned down to grab a towel, amusement playing on his lips. He didn’t want to wake her from her thoughts, whatever they may have been.
As he gently dried himself with the soft cloth, not taking his eyes off her, he tried to read her mind, even if he failed millions of times before. He never had difficulty reading someone; one look at them and he could see their whole past. But with her, he had no idea what she was thinking or planning, or what images played in her head. She was strong, stronger than the ones he had met before, and he admired that. He praised her strength in the Force and her ability to protect herself from her nemesis. Like him.
But he could read body language. He noticed how she tensed around him when he walked past her. How her chest started rising faster whenever he stared her down. Her goosebumps when they brushed against each other. How she pressed her legs together when he towered over her. And how she was now crushing the rock in her hand, gazing in his direction.
“You can always join me, you know that.” He breathed out, letting the cloth fall to the ground, replacing it with his long blouse. She almost wanted to take the top from him just so she could continue her view, but when she finally recollected her thoughts, she wanted to slap herself. “It would help with your wounds when you don’t let me heal them.” He uttered, dressing himself, not breaking eye contact with her. He liked her stare. He liked how she fought with her emotions and how they reflected in her eyes. It pleased him.
“I’m okay,” she faked a smile, swallowing the ridiculous amount of saliva in her mouth. She forced herself to look somewhere other than his strong forearms or how he dragged the pants up his muscular legs. She found a cute shell, admiring it from afar.
She didn’t catch the grin on his face as her face turned pink and she clenched her fists. He was amused with her reactions, but her ripped bandage and the blood revealing itself underneath caught his full attention. His face froze, along with his movements while buttoning up his shirt. He would never touch her unless she wanted him to, but her leg was nowhere near being healed and with the lack of medical supplies on this island, she’d lose it long before she’d be able to leave the island.
“Let me help you.” It wasn’t a question, more of a subtle order. She didn’t miss it. A week ago, on Khofar, Qimir had stopped himself before fatally hurting her, but he still landed a strike on her leg that had trouble healing. She was stubborn enough to push him away when he offered his help, and now she started to slowly regret it.
“I don’t need anything from you,” she hissed at him, catching a glimpse of his unbuttoned blouse.
“You’re a powerful Jedi, and I don’t doubt you’d be still as fierce as you are now without your leg,” he murmured, making his way towards her, leaving his bag and shoes near the water. “If you want to risk it.” She watched him tilt his head as he slowly approached her. She could only see the images in his mind, his plans and ideas. But underneath it all, he didn’t mean it in a bad way. He wanted to help her. In his own way. He was her friend; he knew her weaknesses and strengths. He knew what she wanted, and he was willing to give it to her. But she couldn’t erase the lying and murder of her friends. She wanted her friend back. Maybe something else this time, but her trust in him had faded. Now it was just Qimir, confusing her thoughts and making her rethink her morals. She felt as disgusted with him as she felt with herself. But she understood him. Or at least tried to.
So, she didn’t oppose, letting him kneel in front of her, his hands carefully reaching out to her ripped bandage above her knee. He was so close she could smell him again. His hair fell into his face, covering his eyes that were focusing only on her wound. His fingers worked fast but tenderly as he lifted her thigh to unwrap the bandage. She swallowed hard, feeling his veiny hand below her leg. She was scared he could feel her burning skin, hoping he would mistake it as a result of the injury.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you on Khofar,” she heard him whisper, gripping the sand below her as he threw away the bandage, the cold air kissing her open wound. She almost heard pity in his voice. She was certain she imagined it.
She begged herself to look away, but her eyes betrayed her as they glared down at his hand that was almost as big as her thigh. He covered the wound, not touching it fully, concentrating on restoring her cells.
She was fascinated by how quickly the wound closed up, leaving only a small scar across her thigh. She had wanted to learn how to force heal ever since she lost her friend to a fatal injury as a kid, but the Jedi never taught her. No matter how hard she pleaded. Whenever she asked, they gave the same answer: only dark side users possess this power. She always felt it was ridiculous.
“How do you do it?” she managed to ask, ignoring Qimir’s confused stare as he picked up his head and drew his hand away from her. But he didn’t move position and kept kneeling between her feet. “How do you force heal?” she felt embarrassed asking, but he was one of her only chances to learn.
A soft smile crept to his lips as he moved his eyes from her face to her hands. She suddenly became aware of her vulnerable position.
“In order to heal someone,” he started, softness in his voice, no signs of mockery. “You need to focus on your own energy, imagine it and visualize it. Imagine its color, like you do with the Force.” He continued, his hands moving in motion with his words.
She could feel the warmth radiating off him as he sat centimeters away, his wet hair framing his sharp features. His eyes were dark, only the light of the moon reflecting in them. His lips were full, stretched as he shared his knowledge with her. She didn’t move a muscle and returned his stare. It was only the two of them.
“The Jedi teach only one way. Physical way. Taking your physical energy and giving it to someone who needs it,” he whispered, leaning his head to the side, giving her a view of his sharp jaw. His neck was thick, his collarbones defined. “But there is another way.” He stopped to look at her, examining her expression. She was listening intently, breathing fast, and her eyes bored so deeply into him he was certain she could read everything he was thinking. He let her.
“Below the surface of consciousness are powerful emotions. Anger. Fear. Loss.” He started listing, his eyes twitching between her eyes and her lips. “Desire.”
Her leg muscles twitched, her core burning up. She wanted to bury herself.
“Only Sith feel those emotions,” she whispered back, denying herself. She saw a smile tugging on the corner of his mouth before he lowered his gaze.
“You can draw energy from them, direct them in any way you want,” he purred, looking back at her, letting her feel his emotions. “However, whenever you want.” He lowered his voice as he stretched the last words, reading her face.
He knew she read his mind. He knew she saw the images that kept him awake and his wishes. He had had them since he met her months ago, and when he sensed her attraction toward him, they only intensified. He wanted her and was simply waiting for her to admit the same to herself, no matter how long it would take.
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kosije · 1 year ago
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c/w ★ ׂ duke!miguel x fem!afab reader. smut. all smut. miguel tries to exercise restraint. spoiler alert: he fails. sins in silk extra <3
duke!miguel o'hara: who enjoys taking you in the most compromising of places.
he'll fuck you in the garden, behind the tall bushes of flowers taunting you on how loud you're getting.
"oh princess, i don't think it would fool anyone if they heard the flowers calling my name. if you can't bite your tongue, even the k-kingdom next door will hear of this."
"heavens," he groans. "i bet you'd like that, huh? want everyone to know how you have the best fucking cunt, yeah?" he all but moans into the back of your neck. "too bad it's all for me."
he'll excuse himself from the table just to eat you out inside the kitchen storage room, away from your father, his colleagues, and the cooks.
messily making out with your puffy pussy, moaning into your mound when your hand pulls on his hair. "m' baby needs 't don't she?" he slurs like a drunk man. his large hands wrap around, digging into the meat of your thighs only to pull himself in deeper. you're having trouble keeping your voice down, but thankfully the kitchen is a mess of noise and masks your low mewls and his groans completely.
he sneaks back to the table while you to your chambers, but you don't miss his cheeky "oh, im afraid i've already eaten dessert."
his favorite place, however, is the place he took you for the first time. he takes his time in those moments. working you up, till you almost break, then taking you apart only to put you back together over and over again.
slowly licks up your neck, with your legs fold in front of you, he pistons himself in and out of you. your antsy hands drop from your thighs to his back, up to his neck, and down into the sheets, crying out at how deep he fucks you—at how much you can see how he's been needing you. how he's been missing you.
it's in the way he kisses and worships your body, the way he whimpers whenever he's inside you, how he looks at you, even while around so many people at your father's party. how big they got when they saw you, how wrinkled the sides were when he smiled. in the way he holds you after he's fucked you—tight and warm. how he nuzzles into your neck, kissing your shoulder, completely flush to you.
but you're no better. calling out for him whenever you touch yourself, wearing his favorite color every time he comes around, with matching panties. how you wrap your hands over his arms, kissing the meat of them. how you hide little gifts, sonnets you've worked, sweets you've baked, intimates you've worn. and the way when he writes you back, "thanking you," you feel like you could die.
it's easy to secretly write about him. gush to yourself about your scandalous love with "mr. frown," you write for hours. tuck them safely into the hole inside your closet that you made when you were younger. you write all the days you don't see him, and when you do you always have to mention something from them.
"i wish time would stop when we are together, so we can see what forever feels like."
"i need you more and more every time we part. you take a piece of me with you i desperately need back. that spins and leaps inside of you when you see him again.
"if only you'd stay tonight, then my room wouldn't feel so empty."
when you tell him this, with that sparkly look in your eyes, he pauses. looking you over.
"it won't be good for us, princess."
"why is that?"
"i won't—i won't be able to control myself, just not safe for us."
"you don't know that," you all but plead. "you have to at least be curious, of what can happen if we try?"
he understands what you're referring to because those same thoughts bounce around his mind whenever he's alone, missing you. those pestering "what if's," that keep him up, keep him wondering. the ones that eat at his resolve.
so even though it's risky, and is no good for him at all, he sinks back into your bed. kisses the back of your neck, nosing your baby hairs, and whispers a weak, "i can never say no to you"
and for a night, you two don't have to spend it missing something.
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basketonthedoorstepofthefbi · 7 months ago
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Hello!!! I have a request if that’s okay with you. 💕
Would you maybe write a Spencer x quiet!reader? Where she doesn’t have the courage to talk to him because she’s too shy?
I don’t really have a plot in mind so that’s up to you!! I’m sorry I couldn’t come up with any ideas but hopefully it lets you write whatever you want. Thank you for taking the time to read this. And I read your other stories, you’re so underrated and amazing I love your wording when you write. 🥹🫶🏻🫶🏻
Hi Mary!! Thank you so much for your kind words c:
I did my best c: I hope you like it!
Round Table (Spencer Reid x shy!gn!reader)
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x shy!gn!reader (if not gn please let me know, but I'm fairly certain it is!)
Word Count: 1538
Warnings: mentions of anxiety, but besides that none?
A/N: this was so fun c: i am really enjoying challenging myself with your guys' requests. hope you enjoy!!
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You were an incredibly anxious person, which, honestly, was okay. You tried not to let your anxiety hinder your life too much, but like any other human being, sometimes it got in the way. It was frustrating, sure, knowing that a situation would be so much easier if you weren’t so anxious about it, but you reminded yourself often that you weren’t perfect, and neither was anyone else. 
Some people were afraid of heights, of the ocean, of needles. Some people had trouble going out into crowds or grew overstimulated in public places. 
You? You were painfully shy. There was always an adjustment period to being around new people.
Baristas, the bus driver, pharmacy techs, cashiers at the grocery store - you did just fine. But those were one-time interactions, brief discussions that you could compartmentalize. 
They came with a script to follow, with cue cards already queued up in your head as they occurred. You could put on an emotional mask for five minutes while the nurse at the clinic gave you a flu shot. You could smile and speak in your special voice labeled Getting Coffee, an octave higher than you usually spoke, in order to acquire your much-needed beverage. There was a clear goal in mind with each of these dialogues. Sure, you didn’t present as the most confident person in the world, but you always made it through conversations like these without stumbling over your words or being too terribly awkward.  
You didn’t succeed as much with deeper connections, with ones that took time to cultivate. You were a guarded person to begin with, with only a handful of people you felt truly close to. Vulnerability had always been difficult for you, but you supposed you were in the majority on that front. It took a while to become comfortable around coworkers, extended family, hell, even your therapist. You had to have time to adjust, to settle in. 
A lot of people in your life thought you were just socially awkward or even an agoraphobe, but you didn’t mind being around people. It was the intimacy, the connection, the having to give away little pieces of yourself, that made you anxious. It kept you from participating in conversations most of the time, usually only speaking unless spoken to. 
You liked your job as a linguistics and handwriting analyst in the FBI for that very reason. You didn’t have to say much  to people unless it was related to a case. With a clear goal in mind, a threat to neutralize, you could turn on that mechanical part of your brain that spouted off facts, information, theories. You didn’t have to tell anyone about your weekend, about your hopes and dreams or your favorite foods. 
You were consulting on a case for the Behavioral Analysis Unit - a serial killer who stalked his victims months before their murders, sending handwritten letters and using poetry to taunt them. Your supervisor had asked you to collaborate with the BAU, sending you to the sixth floor on your own. 
For the last two days, you’d been working closely with Dr. Spencer Reid - Spencer, he insisted you call him. Just a couple of years older than you, but still very young for his role in the FBI. He was friendly,  and very smart, and he rambled on about all kinds of things - 
Everything, actually. The Chinese food you’d had for lunch on the first day? He explained the origin of fortune cookies. Did you know their first appearance in the US was in San Francisco in the late 1800s? 
Pointing out a Dickinson line in one of the UnSub’s letters? Did you know only ten of Emily Dickinson’s poems were actually published when she was alive and the rest were posthumous? 
You often just nodded along and smiled, occasionally throwing in an oh, that’s very interesting to appear as an active listener. And you were an active listener. You did genuinely think he was interesting, and you found his info dumps to be incredibly endearing. But your contributions to the conversation were abysmal in comparison.
Beyond discussing patterns in the UnSub’s letters and what it might mean for each victim, you had no other fascinating information to share. You didn’t do well with small talk, and Spencer didn’t ask you any overtly personal questions. 
It wasn’t until close to the end of the second day spent in the conference room of the BAU’s office that Spencer asked you a direct question about yourself. 
There were three evidence boards set up, all full of scanned copies of the letters, each one pinned up meticulously by you and Spencer the day before. The large round table in the room had letters stacked out all around it, each one bagged in protective plastic. 
Spencer was standing in front of the evidence boards with his arms crossed over his chest, studying the photocopies with his head inclined to the side. 
He broke the silence you had been slowly settling into the past two days. “Your supervisor said you had a specialization in poetry?” 
You nodded, stepping over to the table and carefully lifting one of the letters up. You liked how he spoke as if you two were in the middle of a conversation, when in fact, it had been totally silent for the past half an hour, save for the soft puttering of the air conditioning vent.
“Studied a lot in undergrad,” you squeaked out, clearing your throat as you held the letter up the fluorescent light above you to examine the stationary. 
“What university did you attend?” Spencer asked, and you turned your head to find him inclining his head to the side. He actually wanted to know? 
“I went to Bennington College to study poetry,” you said softly, suddenly finding it difficult to focus on the letter in your hand. “But I went to graduate school at Georgetown. Master’s in Linguistics.” 
“Really? That’s fascinating,” Spencer commented, which caught you by surprise, especially because he didn’t sound the least bit sarcastic. “That combination of degrees is exceedingly rare. Generally people who major in poetry often either go on to complete as far up as a doctorate in the subject or  they stop at a Bachelor’s degree. The latter statistically don’t end up working in a field related to poetry, either, so their degree is basically useless.” 
You weren’t sure if you were supposed to be offended by that, so instead you just nodded your head politely. “Okay,” you murmured, biting your lip. 
“Can I ask you another question?” Spencer asked, and set the letter in your hand down on the table. You smoothed your hands over the fabric of your shirt and nodded. “Do I… do I make you uncomfortable?” 
You shook your head. “No,” you said assuredly, and then, a little more hesitantly, “…why would you ask me that?” 
Spencer turned to face you. “You’re just very quiet unless we’re discussing the case. Which is fine, of course, but I just… I don’t know. I thought maybe you were annoyed by me or I said something to offend you.” 
You felt guilt spread over you and your cheeks turned pink. The last thing you’d wanted was to make anyone feel bad who didn’t deserve it. And the very kind, helpful, and adorable Dr. Spencer Reid was the furthest from deserving to feel bad. 
 “I just don’t talk a lot,” you tried to explain. Your hand rubbed the spot where the top of your chest met the skin of your neck, an anxious habit you’d had for years. “I mean, I do with people I know, and that’s not to say I dominate the conversation by any means, but I just…” you realized you were rambling. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” you added, your voice just above a whisper. 
“Thank you,” Spencer’s lips flickered into a straight-lined smile, one you had seen several times over the past few days, often when unintentional eye contact was made across the table. “For clarifying, I mean, that I didn’t offend you.” He cleared his throat, and leaned against the round table, standing just a few feet from you. Still a very professional and comfortable distance, but closer than he had been before. “So, does that mean that if we got to know each other, you’d talk more?” The corners of his lips spread out and his smile grew. 
You tore your eyes away from his to look at the letter in your hand, the protective plastic around it crinkling between your fingers. You weren’t actually looking at the letter, though. You’d just needed somewhere - anywhere - else to look. “That’s generally how it goes,” you murmured, biting your lip. 
“So, if I were to, for example, ask you to meet me for dinner sometime, could the getting to know each other happen there?” 
Your eyes fluttered over to Spencer’s and you saw him smiling. You could tell by how he looked at you, with his head inclined just slightly to the side, that he was being fully serious. You nodded, unable to control the small smile on your face. 
Spencer grinned, and you could tell he couldn’t resist when he spoke again. “So, is that a yes?” 
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elexuscal · 11 months ago
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Something about the current James Somerton discourse i think is missing when people say: "Why didn't people notice he was a bigot?"
is that he was plagarizing from non-bigoted creators.
i'd watched a handful of his videos. I'd noticed a couple comments that made me raise an eyebrow, and I even wrote a post here on tumblr about how much I viscerally disagreed about his comment about "all the interesting gays died of AIDS". (though i left Somerton's name out of that at the time, wanting to take him in good faith... ugh.)
It's obvious now, in retrospect. When you take away all the things he didn't write, what you're left with is just an ugly dust pile of misogyny, Euro-centerism, transphobia, and acephobia.
But before? When you didn't realise that like 80% of what he said he'd stolen? It was masked by all "his" genuinely thoughtful commentary. If someone makes 7 insightful takes, and then one (1) bad one, you're more likely to think, "that's a mostly reasonable person who holds some things I disagree with".
I'm hardly the first to say it, but the point of Hbomberguy's video is not, "Somerton was a uniquely awful person and everyone who watched his content were idiots for not noticing".
It's:
a) the YouTube algorithm (and online algorithms in general) promote low-quality content farm content over well-researched pieces that take longer to make
b) if something a creator says seems fishy, be willing to dig into it more and double-check
c) Look out for the hallmark signs of plagiarism and corner-cutting in general, like lack of attributions or content being churned out at an unbelievably high rate.
Somerton was a charismatic guy who used his status as a gay man as a shield and took full advantage of our social brains' tendency towards parasocial relationship, while actively tricking his audience by stealing other peoples' words. Don't blame his audience for falling for it. Learn from it.
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unproduciblesmackdown · 9 months ago
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ppl will be explaining how a difference is a difference & not a Deviation from a Superior state, & people who are the ones considered Default Normal (superior) will be like "okay....to be polite....i Might say i consider Some aspects of Some people's existence mere 'difference' & not being less than me...." as like hey i'm a Benevolent god. i still actually get to consider you worse & don't have to "humor" anything that challenges my superiority. if you only want everything to fit into the norm then it will all come back to upholding the norm. thinking of people's analysis of their own realities as equally legimate as being like Obscure, Irrelevant, Superficial & then using that reasoning to justify dismissing them. same as worrying that the [Different Lessers (Others(tm))] as Everywhere = a manifestation of the awareness that, yeah, respecting them as equals Does threaten your norm which is smothering everything everywhere. ppl who need to lock in the idea of Borders around personhood like um Yes they're all delineated separate Identities outside any hierarchy & so i think it's relevant to for some reason push back against "ohh so now Everyone's queer" like why not. why couldn't they be. what if they were. what if queerness was everywhere b/c it's ideological not a cordoned off Alternative Identity that is accommodated by focusing on Love(tm) as the new border around whose existence we might begrudgingly accept at arm's length (i.e. being otherwise "normal"! just imagine swapping out the binary gender (or, deep breath, presumed Private Parts) of one partner in an exclusive romantic lifelong nuclear family marriage, & that is Gay / Trans Rights. still gross but maybe we can do it, as long as they don't talk about it or shove it in our faces or even exist for more than one encounter w/us in our lives b/c what are the odds). evergreen laughing at someone suggesting ableist logic might be embedded in language of past & present b/c it's just So little to ask for that it's irrelevant but it's also So much to ask for that of course i'm not gonna do anything more than pass it along like "this is why i don't take ableism seriously" like yeah it's the disabled randos like it's the individual cringe teens(tm) ruining [the cishets would take Gender seriously otherwise!!!] & that's why you won't think about it or do anything about it & continue being comfortable with the norm & resent that actually their Difference is Less & disability is something worse that ppl "excuse" & all these ways that people are & all these things that they do are funny & weird & inexplicable & etc & one can't possibly be cruising along perpetuating a hierarchy with a sense that you're reasonable, well meaning, kind, etc etc & thus Justified, systemic oppression definitely wants to maximize how uncomfortable & arduous it feels to everyone rather than push to make it more streamlined & rewarding to embrace, or at least accept, whatever superiority over others you're afforded
#circled around to lovelessness as a lens there. so long as one was loving. so long as one wasn't consciously malicious#really just mask off about keeping the same perspective of Superiority when conflating disability & ppl ''making excuses''#same as like e.g. that ppl consider everything an autistic person does as being Bad / Wrong / Worse. (this includes ''unskilled''!!!)#(crushing the Social Skills(tm) framework in talking abt allistic difference in my fist)#such that they think sm1 saying Autistic!! is then something they might be unfairly Beholden to to Put Up With their Wrongness#at special times in special scenarios....rather than like in some contexts you are no more ''right'' than the other party#different groups & cultures whose Norms Standards & Expectations could render You presumed rude thoughtless pushy etc#obvious overlaps to consider re: the Norms of like english speaking as ''universal'' someone noticeably speaking it as nth language?#time to Presume their ideas & contributions are Less. if they had the good brain like you their fluency would render their linguistic#Wrongness in having a diff 1st language invisible thus irrelevant. like the ''ideal'' for disability! as the ''ideal'' for anyone Passing#in any way! queer ppl surely all want to be as proximate to cishet ideals (just as cishet ppl should!) nonwhite ppl to Ideal White#women's rights = Proving they're As Good As men. ladies you're using too many exclamation points!! be Confident be Pushier!!#but ofc nobody actually wants the Others(tm) to be Equal. they're just saying ''it's your innate Wrongness that means you Aren't''#the ableism logic in everything. men just Are better at xyz. oh we Can abuse autists...into being as proximate to allistic as possible!!#just actually means ''oh we Can abuse autists.'' the ''correctness'' is your Difference ''intruding'' less into allistic existence#force you to be harmed & diminished all day then save your meltdowns for when you're alone & out of the way#ppl's tweets like ''when ppl say 'omg too sensitive ofc i wasn't talking abt disabled ppl!' like yeah no shit b/c you never think of#disabled ppl'' like yeah most people idk aren't making their life's agenda to stop everyone from saying Stupid#but like believe me people organically sense the Vintage R words when you get called Idiot in exactly the same spirit & purpose#i mean that's so rworded as in that's so gay!! cmon!! & it's fine if you don't say either to gay ppl or. or. [insert the office quote]#oh i don't call um 20th c disabled ppl morons it's bad taste!! but b/c i use it Figuratively in the present it's fine it's so Different#fr i can't remember like. an article w/1 matter of fact sentence from a doctor using a [now Just a childish insult!!] as Diagnostic Label#for someone's disability & it still registered like ice water in the face. presumably no ''especial'' Malice just matter of fact!#it wasn't ''idiot'' it may have been ''moron'' fr. the vintage ''factual'' r word is There plain as day#like yeah ofc the ableism gets channeled into alternate language. & then complaints abt that is like UGH CMON!!!#like idk shouldn't you be fine using the R word then too? not really sweating this issue thee most all thee time either but like#it's not sooo funny even if someone seems pressed extensively abt it. not that hard to in fact just not use all these words all the time#ppl will be throwing out their ableism w/o Any labels talking about how Weird Offputting Etc someone acts so you can Tell they're bad....#and yeah you should think abt that. anytime. the [difference used to categorize ''other'' is Just difference] Is Everywhere All The Time#the idea it can & should be ''contained'' for especial limited specific occasions (when you're feeling Nice!) = upholding the status quo
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xqueen-of-disasterx · 1 year ago
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You’ll be a star
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Paring: camgirl!fem!reader x dads!bestfriend!Nat
Summary: Natasha couldn’t help yourself when she saw her favorite girl.
Warnings: SMUT, recording, dom!Nat, sub!reader, nipple play, clit play, fingering, pet names, mommy kink, mask, kink, G!P Nat, praise kink, breeding kink, unprotected sex,
!Disclaimer English is not my first language so please excuse any grammar or spelling errors. This story is completely fictional!
Masterlist
"And you are really comfortable with this" you asked your voice was small almost like a whisper. "I want to do this bunny, I mean it." She answered her voice full of confidence. She had agreed to help you with your life stream under the condition of not showing her identity which you of course respected. She was after all I known business women. You stranded her lap pulling the black baclava covering everything except a pair of piercing green eyes up to plant a reassuring kiss to the older woman’s lips. 
"I’m sure you’ll do great just be yourself and pretend no ones watching" You whispered against her lips pulling the mask down again. You turned to your camera and laptop seeing your reflection on the screen in front of you. Natasha wore a pair of faded jeans and a black wife beater making showing off her muscular build; looking at you you almost felt uncomfortable at your lack of clothing only wearing a matching set of white lingerie with small strawberries on them. "Are you ready?"
"I’m ready" she stated and you could see the excitement in her eyes after all Natasha wasn’t thought she was dreaming when out of all people you stood in the kitchen of your 2 days ago father. She had never meet you before after all you spend most of your time away at uni only coming home for the holidays or breaks. She happened to visit too in your two week visit in the summer break. She knew your face, of course she did, it was the face she jerked off to every night. You stood lend against the counter looking ever so innocent as your sweet lips curl into a smile as you spoke with your father; if he would only knew what his daughter was doing on the internet. And now she sat on your bed ready to experience everything with you. 
"The safe word is read" She reminded you "I won’t listen to stop sweetheart" You nodded turning to the laptop to press the record button starting the life stream. You sat back next to Nat as you saw the first few messages flooding in. 
Winter_Solidier: A guest? 
User85477439: Why the long wait?
User36298696: We missed you
You read out loud. "Umm… yes I’ve thought we spice it up with our guest here" Natasha nodded smirking under her mask you still weren’t quite comfortable doing this in front of a camera which made you so appealing to her, as if there was still a sense of innocence in you. 
— 
"Show them your pretty little tits bunny" Natasha smirked rolling er thumbs over your erected nipples. She held you to her chest, your back laying against her chest as she showed off your chest to the camera as you made pathetic noises in response. "Good girl" You moaned she had been teasing you seemingly endlessly never moving away from your breasts. Natasha glanced onto the screen reading through the messages
Denver-C donated $50: stop teasing her fuck her already 
User839236973: bring the guest more often 
"Mommy please" You whined out grinding against the air in desperate to find some kind of friction. "What’s the matter bunny you need to use your big girl words" You huffed throwing your head back as she twisted your already over stimulated nipples. "I- I need you" you whined your hips still buckling as Nat chuckled. "But I’m having so much fun you’re so sensitive" she taunted you "Wanna try making you cum just by your nipples" You shook your head winning in disagreement not expecting Nat to be so cruel. 
"Your viewers are betraying you" she laughed "They all want to see if you can cum from your tits" You were soaked as your juices were sticking to your thighs already. Natasha changed your position laying you down on the soft cushion as she latched on your breasts biting and tugging on them. You started to clench around nothing and your moans grew louder "Mhm mommy- ’m close" She chuckled before biting down again "Does my baby want to cum? Should I let you come" she whispered agist your skin "I think you wear good girl cum for me sweet girl" You didn’t need more to release your climaxing a scream soaking your panties in your cum. 
"Look at that baby, you made a mess all over the sheets" She chuckled hooking her fingers into your panties and pulling them your soft legs. "Such a messy girl" she coo’d against your soft skin. She manhandled you to sit in he lap again showing off your cunt to the camera keeping your legs spread with her her strong hands. "Don’ be shy baby girl show them what you’ve got"
"Natasha please" you pleaded, wanting nothing more then to be filled up by the older woman "What sweetheart, you need to use your words" You whined out, why had she to be so cruel. "I need you, fingers, cock I don’ care I need it now." She laughed at your desperate state "Should I let her have it?" She asked your viewers who are flooding the chat with donations or messages. 
"You got lucky sweetheart your chat is feeling generous" One of Natasha’s fingers trailed down to your gapping hole plugging it. She groans feeling how tight you actually were. You felt even better than she had imagined it. She started to move inside of you the heel of her hand rubbing over you clit. She stroked over your G- spot deciding to add a second finger to prepare you for her cock. 
She moved in and out pushing her fingers repeatedly into your tight heat. You threw your head back on her shoulder whimpering in her ear. "Are you close bunny" She coo’d and you nodded "Cum bunny cum for me" You climaxed over her hands your juices tripping down her hands. She brought up her fingers to your lips. "Open up bunny" Natasha pushed two finger down your throat making your eyes water. 
After she let you lick our own slick off her fingers her removed her hands from her mouth letting you catch your breath. She removed her jeans leaving them to pile at her ankles to tuck her boxers to her mid thigh revealing her lengthy hard on standing proud against her stomach. You were in an awe as you watched her jerk a few timer over her length before looking at you. 
"You can take that right?" You nodded still feeling a bit unsure she was bigger than anything you had taken yet. You strangled her lap Natasha gripping your hip to help you sink down on her cock. You felt a delicious stretch as Natasha bottomed you out. She let you adjust to her grit before you started to roll your hips. "Jus’ like that bunny" She moaned feeling your thighs heat against her shaft. "Good girl" 
She moved her hand from your hip to her to your breast rolling her thumbs over our overstimulated nipples. You had your hands on her shoulders moving your hips up and down moaning in pure lust. You knew she was just as close as you were. She started to thrust up desperate for an release inside of you. The thought of calming you with her seed inside of your womb made her go crazy. 
"Fuck" She panted "I’m gonna fucking cum inside of you, gonna fucking claim they tight littl’ pussy" With a last moan you came with her, your orgasms being triggered by the feeling of her painting your insides white. She had an iron grip on your hips to keep your hips moving to help you through your orgasm. You whimpered in overstimulation as she pulled you from her cocks showing of the mess between your legs. She sound of the donations was annoying her so she decided to hit the stop button taking care of you instead of further entertaining the creeps on the internet. 
"You’re gonna be a str Tasha they are loving you" you said in an awe as you scrolled through the comments of your lifestream. You laid in her arms as she kissed your temple. "I have to say it has a little kick" She smirked "But maybe I’ll Just keep you for myself Now" 
:)
I do not own these characters all rights go to Marvel
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tblsomedoodles · 2 years ago
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Here's an art/info dump about this stupidly cute idea that's been rotating in my brain for three day.
(the first comic here is just how they first met. they ended up in the same alley, pestering the same cat without noticing. Then the cat left and they notice they're not alone lol)
(Second is Donnie 'talking' with Mikey for the first time. He only uses Mind Mend to communicate and is just as surprised as Mikey to find it worked on him. (it has only worked with Leo before this))
I'll put the rest under a break b/c i will be going off about this and i don't want it to take up your entire feed.
I'm jokingly calling this "Mikey's Imaginary Friends" though that might change if i continue this.
Basically it's this, the twins grew up with Draxum while Raph and Mikey grew up with Splinter. Neither set knew about the other (b/c splinter though they were dead and didn't want his two remaining kids to worry about it, and Draxum was too focused on fixing his lab to pay much attention to the twins.) So, imagine Mikey's shock when, at age 8, he's out exploring topside (having snuck out) and runs into two more mutant turtles (who also snuck out and are exploring.) Thus begins an ongoing sneaking out to meet up thing between the three b/c Mikey's excited to have new friends and the twins are just as fascinated with Mikey as he is with them.
And before you ask, "hey, why doesn't Mikey tell his family about the two other turtles?" he does. Raph thinks he just made up some imaginary friends so he plays along but doesn't believe they're real. Splinter, on the other hand, thinks he's talking to Hamato ancestors due to some very big miscommunications (that i'll probably draw out at some point b/c it's silly)
Twins background wise, i'm still thinking through a lot of it, but i'll put my thoughts down anyways.
Draxum knew that training the twins at a young age would be counterproductive, so he doesn't train them beyond some basics a few times a week. Other than those sessions, he leaves them alone with their less-than-stellar caretaker, in favor of rebuilding his lab. The caretaker doesn't do much for them beyond give them food and very basic school like lessons. Beyond that the twins are left on their own.
they come to the conclusion that the only people that will care for them is themselves. They discover Mind Meld very early as a result of this and will not talk verbally b/c they found out early on with their caretaker, that if they tried to talk, they were just ignored anyways, so what's the point.
(I'm also thinking Donnie might be deaf or hard of hearing in this, with the pair of them using Mind Meld as a way for him to temporarily hear through Leo and thus keep Drax from finding out. but i'll have to do some more research before i decide for sure/figure out the specifics)
as for Meeting Mikey
That's why they became so fascinated with mikey. B/c mikey was the first person that treated them like a person and not a job or an incomplete experiment. (He's also so happy and bright, they can't avoid getting drawn to him lol)
Mikey's probably the only one they verbally start talking to, even after they teach him mind meld. (though Leo's the one to pick up on that more than Donnie. Donnie doesn't do much talking at all outside mind meld).
They also come out of their shells (hehe) a lot as they interact more with Mikey. Before they met him, they acted more like automatons, even when alone. The more they socialize with Mikey, the sillier these two get. Leo learns about puns and starts going mad with them, Donnie starts happy stimming about thing (which he has either been suppressing or just never had the urge to do before.) Basically they stop acting like little creepy statues and start acting like kids.
Honestly, it's just a cute idea with the kiddos meeting each other and Mikey inadvertently socializing his not-well-socialized brothers.
(also, the twins wear masks b/c Donnie doesn't like the smell of the city and he's worried about germs. Not for any ninja reasons, what so ever.)
Alright, that's it for my info dump. maybe more later? Maybe not? Depends on how much longer these kids keep my attentions (though right now, they're doing a pretty good job at it lol)
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colebabey888 · 2 months ago
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A few DIY beauty secrets I began doing to elevate my "natural" look | IT GIRL DIARIES
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something that I noticed over the years, when looking to enhance your natural beauty, there are 4 main points that build the first impression, hair, eyes, brows and lips..
I have naturally bushy brows that I used to manage with eyebrow gel, but it would start flaking during the day, which gave me the ickk. So, I began laminating them with a kid-friendly relaxer every two weeks (my eyebrows grow pretty fast, which is why I do it so often and i don't get them professionally done because i don't trust people with my brows lol).
I always tweeze my eyebrows instead of waxing them; they seem to grow back slower that way + it's easier to do, just grab a tweezer along with a pocket mirror and you can do it anywhere if you see a hair out of place. ( don't over do it though, i made this mistake and it went horribly, just keep them neat )
Get your lashes laminated !!! Natural lashes are so classy and I don't have to worry about putting on mascara or falsies. This I'd get done professionally though lmao, I would do this myself but I'm way to scared to be messing with anything chemically so close to my eyes, so it isn't necessarily a diy but still, get it done!
ALWAYS make sure your hair, eyes (lashes) and eyebrows are done! You don't have to have a silk press, falsies and freshly waxed brows 24/7 but make sure they're neat. These are the key features that attracts people's attention when youre speaking to them
I have tight 4b type hair, and I used to have to lay my edges with gel or edge control because of how fluffy they'd get when I wore my curls out, but it was super damaging from constantly pulling on them and having them laid down. So, I started relaxing my edges every 3-6 months. Now, all I use is a bit of hairspray to keep them tamed, and now it doesn't puff up even during workouts and it lasts my whole silk press. Yes, my curls are still thriving.
I do weekly deep conditioning, monthly hot oil treatments, routine trims, and always use a heat protectant and frizz control when doing silk presses to stretch them out and minimize heat application. ( my hair has grown so much, leave your hair alone and only feed it when it's hungry! )
you'll hear everyone talking about silk bonnets, but as someone who hates the feeling of having anything on their head or in their face, I always took it off unknowingly throughout the night and it defeated the purpose, so i got silk pillow cases instead, game changer! i don't wrap my hair as often anymore and i don't experience frizz anymore.
I apply a face mask every week depending on what my skin is lacking, whether it’s moisture or something else. It just keeps my face looking fresh and plump in between professional monthly facials.
I use a lip tint every third day. It makes makeup application easier, and it doesn’t wear off throughout the day so i don't have to re-apply lipstick continuously. It also gives my lips a bit more colour so now I just leave the house with a pretty gloss or plain lip balm.
I take zinc supplements religiously!
Vitamin C everyday, all day. Lemon wedge in my greentea for breakfast, orange for a lunchtime snack and a naartjie for a late night movie. My skin is glowinggg!
hair removal cream! this is so slept on, i no longer shave or wax, both of them have caused ingrowns for me and accentuate my strawberry legs. i use hair removal cream now and i don't think I'll ever go back! i use it probably every week or so depending on how much growth i have, it's so easy and mess free. apply it before you get in the shower and use an exfoliating glove to slide it off gently and continue with your normal wash routine. always apply tissue oil and moisturizer after! baby soft skin all day, everyday!
It's not much, but these small changes have completely transformed my overall look. i do them specifically for those actual no makeup days where i want to give my skin a break from makeup or where im working out but still want to look prettyyy and done up..it's like a wash and go except it's for your face lmao, anyways
mwah! xoxo, colebabey8.88
www.investingforbeginners/gumroad.com
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