#what a lovely necklace

[texasbama]

Megan thee Stallion for True Religion ❤️

[ivys-thick-juicy-thighs]

Where the Delicate Stops- IV x Fem!reader/MC

An “In The Low Light” one shot. For now.

Notes: alright folx, I want you to read this very, VERY carefully. This is *technically* part of In The Low Light, but it’s much farther along in the plot than where we are with officially released chapters. There is no real plot in this, nor any character names (aside from IV), so it can be viewed as a stand alone piece for now. I wanted y’all to have something to gnaw on while I work on chapter 3. Once we reach the proper point in the plot I will re-label this as a half chapter so it fits into the right spot. Quality control by the lovely @pastlivesxpastlie (sorry again, just updating stuff) thank you as always, Wolfie.

That being said, this is SMUT. MDNI.

Tags etc: IV x fem!reader/MC, established relationship, first time, hand kink, fingering, nipple play, hand on throat but no squeezing, mirror stuff??, fem nicknames (love, baby, princess, good girl), heavy language (but c’mon it’s smut what do you expect), diabetes inducing fluff, it’ll make you cry out your eyes and down your thighs.

Word count: 2951

ITLL masterlist

I listened to Talk by Hozier while writing this. Listen to it here for ✨vibes✨

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I was sitting on my kitchen counter with IV standing between my knees, his hands on my hips, and his lips on my neck leaving soft whispers of kisses. My hands had found their way into his hair, and tugged gently at the nape of his neck. His breath shudders against my skin, and I feel his teeth graze me.

“IV…” my voice is quiet, just above a whisper. He hums against my neck as he leaves an open mouthed kiss on the corner of my jaw. “I think I’m ready. For you.”

He freezes, and his fingers flex against my lower back. He pulls back just enough to look into my eyes, and I see his pupils are blown wide, his eyelids half open. He brings a hand up to cup the side of my face. “What exactly are you saying, love?” His voice is husky, gravelly. He leans closer, brushing his lips against mine, and my breath catches in my throat. I tighten my fingers in his hair, and pull him closer, deepening the kiss. He groans softly as his tongue moves against mine, and we stay like this for a few minutes; lost in one another. I catch his lower lip in my teeth as I pull back to speak.

“I’m saying I want you to make sweet, sweet love to me.” I drag my hands down his chest, across the hard planes of his body, and slip my index fingers into the waistband of his pants. “I’m saying I want you to ravage me.” I pull him closer to me and he captures my mouth with his again.

The kiss is hungry, all tongue and teeth, and his hands squeeze around my hips. I slip my hand up under the hem of his shirt and push the fabric up slightly. He steps away to pull it over his head, and I catch myself getting lost in his beauty. Tattooed skin over taught muscle, a few scars here and there, and a faint happy trail disappearing under his waistband. He catches my gaze, and smirks at me. “You like what you see, love?”

I jump off the counter, and step closer to him, scraping my nails against his skin lightly as my hands move up his chest to rest on his shoulders. His hands slide under the hem of his hoodie I’m wearing and splay across the small of my back. I place a kiss to the center of his chest, and meet his eyes. “Baby, I think you’re divine.” His expression is overtaken with my favourite smile, the one that creates those little crinkles at the edges of his eyes.

He bends down and scoops me up by the back of my thighs, and I wrap my legs around his waist. I place a small kiss on his lips, both of us smiling into it. He turns and walks to my bed, in its place in my living room, and sits on the edge with me straddling him. His mouth finds its way to my ear and the words come out soft as he breathes out. “Do you trust me, love?” He begins trailing searing open mouthed kisses down my neck, pausing to leave small bites in my skin.

I struggle to find my words, my mind made blank by the sensation of his mouth on me. The words fall out of me on a blissful sigh. “Yes…I trust you.” At this he slowly pushes up the fabric of his hoodie, his fingertips against my skin leaving goosebumps in their wake. He pulls it off over my head, and tosses it on the floor. I shiver from the slight chill in the air, my thin camisole and pajama shorts doing little to keep me warm. His hands are back on my body, and they seem to be everywhere at once. I pull his mouth back to mine, and all of my senses are consumed by him. His taste, his touch, his smell, the way he groans in the back of his throat as my nails scratch at his scalp. How his pupils have taken over his eyes when I draw back from him. “You’re so beautiful.” I can’t stop the words from rolling off my tongue. It’s the truth.

He releases a breathy laugh, and rests his forehead against mine. “You’re killing me here, love.” He brings a hand up to cup the side of my face, pushes his fingers into my hair, and pulls my mouth back down onto his. I’m left breathless as his tongue rolls against mine, exploring every crevice of my mouth. He pushes his fingers under the hem of my camisole and pulls back slightly. “Can I take this off?” I pull him back to me as I breathe out an emphatic yes. He quickly removes the garment, tossing it who knows where, and his mouth is on my chest. One of his arms wraps around my waist while the other makes its way around to cup my breast. He leaves desperate kisses on my skin, and suddenly his lips are wrapped around my nipple, his tongue swirling tantalizing circles around the sensitive bud. My head falls back as I gasp at the onslaught of sensation, my fingers pull harshly at his hair, prompting him to use his teeth. A thrill floods through my body, straight down into my core. He releases my skin with a gentle pop, and I tip my head forwards so our eyes meet. “Can you stand up for me, love?” I grant him this, simply standing between his parted knees, my hands still resting on his shoulders. His hands glide down to rest on my hips, his fingers dipping below the waistband of my shorts. His eyes bore into mine, and he leaves a single kiss against my lower stomach. “Can I?” He softly snaps the elastic my shorts against my skin to emphasize his question.

I laugh softly, and nod. “Yes, please do.” My hands always seem to find their way into his hair. He pulls my shorts and panties down my legs, and I step out of them, his eyes never leaving mine. They seem to be searching for some sign of hesitation or second thoughts. I hold his face and, bending down to kiss him briefly, I look deeply into his eyes. “I want this, you don’t have to worry about me.”

He places a small kiss on my palm, and studies me for a moment. “If at any point you want me to stop, just say the word, and I’ll stop. You are fully in control of this.” He holds me by my hips, his touch anchoring me to this moment.

I stand back up, and nod. “I know.” He leans forward and places a few small kisses against my stomach, but stops and stands up.

He grabs my chin between his fingers and forces me to make eye contact. “Do you feel safe with me, love?”

“Yes, I feel safe with you.” My stomach erupts with butterflies. The anticipation is killing me. I feel a fire ignite inside me.

“Sit on the bed, right in the center, a little away from the head board. Face towards the mirror. Wait for me,” there’s a slight stern tone to his voice and he raises his eyebrows at me. “Got that?”

“Yes.” My voice is barely more than a breath. He bends down and kisses me fiercely for just a moment, and pulls away, releasing my chin. I follow his instructions, and wait for him. I watch as he readjusts my standing mirror so that it’s turned directly towards the bed. When he steps away I can see myself perfectly.

He turns to face me and reaches down to his belt, undoing it and his pants. He pushes them down, stepping out of them, leaving him clad only in black boxer briefs. He climbs on the bed and settles behind me, his legs on either side of mine. His hands slide in between my thighs, and gently push out. “Open for me, baby.” I open my legs and he loops his around mine, pinning them down to the bed. He takes both of my hands and places them under each of his thighs and presses his legs down on them. “Keep these here, squeeze as hard as you need to. Lean back against me….just like that. Relax baby, let me do all the work.” The feel of his body against mine is enough to feed the fire inside me. When his arms wrap around my body and his hands find their way to my chest, I can’t hold back the small moan that escapes my mouth. I feel my cheeks flush, and I feel embarrassed for a moment until he says “You make such pretty sounds, love. Don’t hold back. I wanna hear how good I make you feel.” His fingers pinch and twist at my nipples and each one sends a bolt of lightning through my body. One hand trails down and begins massaging over my thighs, and the fire within me grows evermore. His hands on me are like a drug. I can never get enough of them. I need them like I need his mouth.

I crane my neck to the side searching for him, and he grants me what I seek. Our mouths move ferociously against one another, our tongues moving in tandem. He swallows my moans, and I breathe his. I can feel the hard ridge of his erection pushing into my back, how it twitches with each sound I make. His hand is still massaging the inside of my thigh, and his fingers brush against my most sensitive part. My breath shudders and I gasp against his lips. “I can’t take it anymore. Touch me, please, IV. Please, please, please. Touch me.”

He groans and brings his hand to his mouth, sucking in his middle and ring fingers. He pulls them from his lips, a small string of saliva stretching between his digits and his mouth. “I’ll go slow, baby. I don’t want to hurt you.” His fingers ghost over my clit, and the faint sensation drives me wild. My body bucks up into his hand desperately searching for more, and a loud moan pulls from my throat. He traces delicate circles over the sensitive bud before sliding his fingers down and gently pushing just the tips in. I can only enjoy the feeling for a second before he pulls them back out, returning to swirling those soft circles. Within minutes, I am a writhing whining mess. He repeats this same pattern, without end: feather light pressure and barely pushing in.

My body has a mind of its own, rolling up against his hand, constantly chasing his touch. I need more. Now. “Ffffffffuuuuuck…babyyyyy,” his fingers push in again and my thoughts falter. My hands squeeze against the muscle of his thighs, my nails digging in slightly. He releases a small hiss followed by a moan against my hair. The fire inside me is now a raging inferno.

His voice is strained, and the words come out as a plea. “What do you need, love? Tell me. Use your pretty words.”

“More. I need more.” The desperation in my voice would be humiliating at any other time.

“More of that what, baby?” There’s a teasing tone in his voice, and it drives me crazy.

I groan in frustration, “Fuck! More pressure. Deeper, please!”

“That’s it, good girl.” As a reward his fingers press down on me harder, and it rips a keening moan from my throat. When he pushes his fingers in up to the base and curls them against me, I clench hard around them. A tension begins to build in my lower belly, and my breaths leave me in ragged moans. After a few more minutes of this torturous pattern, I can no longer think. I feel his breath on my ear as he speaks. “Are you close, love?” My response is a desperately gasped yes! “Cum for me, baby. I wanna feel you squeeze around me, feel how wet you get. You’re so beautiful, princess. Show me how good I make you feel.”

With this, the tension inside me snaps, and when his fingers push in again, my vision goes white behind my eyelids and I convulse with each thrust of his fingers. He keeps them pushed in, to the knuckle, repeatedly curling them against that tender spot inside, each brush of his fingers sending a shock of electricity down my legs. He continues his ministrations through my orgasm, my body rocking and bucking against his hand all the while. When he begins to pull his hand away, I quickly pull my hand out from under his leg and place it over his. “No, don’t stop. Please don’t fucking stop.” I slide his hand back down to my quivering pussy, and guide his fingers back inside.

The groan that leaves him is pure sin. “Oh my fucking god, baby, you’re so sexy.” As he pulls his fingers back out and begins rubbing firm and fast circles on my clit again, I place my hand back under his leg. When he goes to push back in, he adds a third finger, the stretch causing my body to arch against his arm still giving attention to my chest. A loud animalistic moan tears from my throat, my eyes falling shut, and I feel his hand move from my chest to my throat. He doesn’t squeeze, but he applies a gentle yet firm pressure. “Look at yourself, baby. Do you see how fucking incredible you are? Do you see yourself how I see you, now? Look.” I open my eyes and look at our reflection in the mirror, my mind reeling at what I see. His arms wrapped around me, one hand on my throat, the other on my pussy. The gone expression on his face as he watches us in the mirror, my face matching his as my body jerks with pleasure. The way his fingers disappear inside me. This image will be burned into my mind for the rest of my life. His words send shivers down my spine as he breathes them against my ear. “You think that I’m divine, darling, you’re a fucking goddess.” With this, he gives a particularly firm thrust of his hand, pressing into my g-spot, and I feel my second orgasm begin to build. The sensation of his hand slowly dragging across my slick skin, and his fingers stretching me open soon becomes all I can think about and feel. My breath leaves me in rapid motion, and tension builds in my body, my legs shaking with each swirl of his fingers against my clit. I let my head fall back against his shoulder, a long drawn out moan pulling from my throat. Once again his words come as a hot breath on my ear. “Do you feel loved by me, darling?”

“Yes, I feel loved by you, IV!” I gasp the words as my climax begins to hit. “FUCK!! I’m gonna cum! Gonna cum!” My nails dig harshly into his thighs, and my mouth hangs open as a high keening whimper releases from my lips.

“Cum for me, princess. Let me feel you fall apart in my hands.” My wish is his command, and my orgasm crashes through me like a tsunami. I ride the waves for what feels like eternity, the drag of his skin against my most delicate parts a tantalizing delicious treat. As the tides of my climax begin to recede, the strokes of his hand slow too. I bring my hand back to rest on top of his when it comes to a stop. He releases my legs from his, and I bring my other arm out to rest on his other arm, as it wraps tighter around my torso. I close my legs around both of our hands, enjoying the warmth spreading through my body. He presses countless kisses against my neck and shoulder, anywhere he can reach, until I’m a giggling mess. “You’re so fucking beautiful, baby. I love you so much. Thank you for trusting me enough for that.”

I turn to face him and pull my hand out from between my thighs to hold his face as I pull him closer to mine. We share a tender, drawn out kiss, just enjoying the feel of each other. I pull away breathless, and rest my forehead against his cheek. My hand once again has found its way into his hair. “I love you more. And now I want to return the favour.” His erection is still pressing into my back, and by now it must be feeling painfully hard.

He presses a kiss to my temple and hums against my skin. “As much as I would like that, I think we’ve gone far enough for tonight, love. I’ll be alright. I don’t want to push you too hard. Not yet, anyway.” A teasing tone colours his voice with the last sentence, and we both fall into a fit of soft laughter. He pulls his hand out from between my legs, and scoots off the bed, turning to hold his other hand out to me. I take it, and we both go into my small bathroom to clean up.

When we come back out, we turn down the lights and crawl under the blankets. He pulls me to him, and peppers my face with kisses before tucking me into his chest. I nuzzle against his skin, and wrap my arms around his waist. We whisper our “I love yous” into the dark, and drift off to sleep for the night.

[heytheredelulu]

Sebastian Stan’s hands.

That’s it. That’s the post.

[ivys-thick-juicy-thighs]

@adenobabe here you go, have some nice hands

iii in Pittsburgh (🎥Source )

[pokeberry5]

girl experiences gender euphoria and is immediately slammed by grief

for @litttlittt <3. this was supposed to be a portrait of caroline hill, but litta mentioned tim looking like janet when dressed as caroline and identity issues and angst and things spiraled

something about tim not knowing if he's his mother's child or bruce's or neither's.

figuring out the looks:

i wanted janet to have that poofy 70s hair

[crismakesstuff]

in another world where things are a little different….

role swap au debbie and nolan inspired by this amazing fic

[dotted-clouds]

Replaced.

[ivys-thick-juicy-thighs]

I lost my mind over this one yesterday.

Oh ivy (sighing like I'm looking at old photos of my lover lost at war)

Credits: Unknown.

[introspectivememories]

goddd i just know that tim never takes off that fucking necklace. and you know bear doesn't have that much money so tge necklace was kinda cheap and it wasn't anything the bear meant for tim to wear regularly it was just like a keepsake y'know? wear it on a date or a nice outing. maybe when they're both home together. but tim is practically feral over it. like straight up refuses to take it off. it's turning his neck green at this point and everybody is soo done.

[fantasykiri5]

Another dragon. His name is Bay 👍 he is one of Hourglass’s best friends and also kind of a himbo. I love him

Version with his weird gold chain pouch necklace because I am Unsure About It.

[texasbama]

[viivenn]

have you ever wondered what captain phasma looks like without her helm? perhaps i have an answer to your burning curiosity…

in this i’d like to also discuss some headcannons for miss phasma because cappie phazzie is just so… 🥰😍🙏✨✨

- the scar on her eye is both a cut and a burn. when she fell in all that fire the only spot unprotected by her armor was the break in her helm, and now it's a patch of burned skin. the harsher scar pictured here is present as well because that scar comes from the initial blow from finn.

- i'm also willing to bet phasma doesn't wear makeup either. "there's no time for it nor is there a need". however she would, on free time/when she's training, wear industrial/cargo pants, thick military/combat boots, and a gray tee tucked in neatly with a simple black belt. the logo to accompany that shirt is a small first order sigil near the collarbone and on her pants she would wear patches with her name, rank, and perhaps home flag on it as well as the first order's sigil as a patch.

- she's not offended by the assumption of masculinity, because she takes on the role of forceful and brutal commander whilst maintaining a strong reputation amongst the ranks of the first order. secretly, though she sees him as freakish and only tolerates him for his status, she's quite amused by kylo ren and wouldn't have it any other way. “the first order is not the same without him." she would also quietly tease him for his inability to find the map to skywalker.

- she would also probably take great pride in how shiny her armor is and routinely keep it clean on her free time, desperate to keep scuffs and marks out of it. she doesn't like deformalities, especially when it comes to her personal items.

- in terms of where her loyalties lie , she is ultimately loyal to herself despite her position and rank amongst her fellows. she would never admit it out loud though, and keep to herself about that opinion, but if it came down to her or a few members of her troops, she'd be fine with the sacrifice.

- phasma would probably pretend her baton is a lightsaber on occasion, side training with saber combat on either opponents or training dummies. if she is caught doing so, she would most certainly threaten the life of whoever caught her playing pretend. "you won't tell a soul if you value your life. now get back to work.”

- she probably secretly drinks tea in her quarters as well because she's british and it's natural.

in my humble opinion , she is most certainly , “gaslight , gatekeep , girlboss”.

[ssprouttz]

Hi this is super late life got in the way and everything else for the rest of yasammy week is going to be late as well 💔

This was also supposed to be super simple but I uh, got carried away obviously

Here is Yasammy Week Day 3: Prom!!

And heres some close ups!!

@yasammyweek

[sebfreak]

Grim Reaper

[violetasteracademic]

Elain when she finds out Rhys ordered Azriel away from her:

[jesuis-assez]

THE ROOKIE- 6.03 ➦ Trouble In Paradise