#Maria on the drums

[woofberry]

@idkmanidk27 here you go!

“Well, yeah, it’s not the safest way to freedom. The prison’s overrun with monsters and infected, and most people can’t fight off hordes of undead soldiers with nothing but a rusty broken sword. But then again, most people can’t get beheaded and then get right back up again, so I think you’ve at least got a fighting chance.”

“…” Anne doesn’t exactly feel very reassured by that statement. Unfortunately, she also doesn’t know how to communicate this, a recurring issue that is beginning to get rather annoying.

Judging by the expression on the knight’s face, Maria feels the same. She crosses her arms.

“Are all our conversations going to be this one-sided?”

Anne stares at her, then grunts softly and shrugs, wincing slightly at the pain shooting through her throat. Maria sighs.

“Brilliant. I appreciate the eloquent answer.”

#six the musical #anne boleyn #maria de salinas #maria on the drums #six the musical fanfic

[six-costume-refs]

Looks like Dionne did todays evening show in the reveal look because of the heat! Bet the other queens were jealous she got to take a layer off! And the LIWs in short sleeved tees too

Ha, I was just coming to write up a post! Love how quick y’all are!

L-R: Alice Angliss as Maria, Emma Jemima as Maggie, Kelly Morris as Bessie, Caitlin Morgan as Joan. @/thekellymorris.

They recently switched to wearing shorts for the summer months, but to my knowledge this is the first time to my knowledge that they’ve worn plain t-shirts since opening on the West End. I have a more in depth post about their costumes here.

@/danielle.rosee_

For the matinee today Dionne Ward-Anderson wore her full costume. But for the evening she only wore it up until the reveal - only her shorts were back on after.

#six the musical #dionne ward anderson #Anna of Cleves six #ladies in waiting #alice angliss #emma jemima #Kelly morris #Caitlin morgan #joan on the keys #maria on the drums #maggie on the guitar #bessie on the bass #cleves 6.0 #six west end

[cheesewelsom]

This is a different Six AU.

Because why not?

So everything still stays the same but the girls make england.. better?

Like bessie won wars for the king, She's known as ' the queen who fights in the fron lines ', she goes and makes plans and shit.

-1st queen

Maggie does law, Everything about law and she's very good at it in england and wrote a few books that became popular later on because ' how dare a woman write such good piece of literature while being in informative ' time.

-3rd

Maria just really gave a lot of plays, playwrites and songs, Alot of them actually. Her time was called ' entertainer's land ' because of the number of plays she administrated and how good they were, they were good for children and adults. It was educational ( because not alot of people get that those days ), and entertaining

-4th queen

And Joan literally built houses, like great houses that stood for time, she was an architect at heart and was amazing with what she did, She created long standing houses, castles, random wells and created great fucking sewer systems, like shit man she was awesome!

-2nd queen

- how they died?

(divorced - bessie )

(beheaded - Joan )

(Died - Maggie )

(Survived - Maria )

Bessie was a woman from spain and Germany, everyone liked her.

Bessie was replaced by someone younger, and prettier, much more yadda yadda, so when they divorced it was this whole heavy shit, it was so heavy that england lost most of it's follower's.

Joan was the replacement, Joan didn't even know lile the king, she was just there doing her be damned duties until he raped her and replaced the queen.. she was 16!

She was so disrespected lile girlie was having a hard time, Once she built better houses it gone.. softer, better? No. But softer.

Then was accused of sleeping with the pope ( finds out not only with the pope but with a sister and a brother, [ they were actually an incestuous couple with a boy ] she claims she was innocent, no one believed her and her punishment?

She was paraded, naked on a cross, her hands were nailed to it and she had a stand on her feet. She almost died everytime because of blood loss. ( Then she was beheaded ).

-----

Maggie was Just a normal girl, then two days after the death of the queen, the king saw something in her and kidnapped her and kept her.

She became queen, set out good laws and everyone loved her.. more then the king, the king getting angry about the attention made ehr pregnant and give him a son.

She didn't, the baby died in her when she died.

---

Maria, Unlike those ones, she outlived henry because he was getting old and she loved her job, people loved her she was well educated and died an old age of 59 ( that was old for woman in england that time )

Im calling this a-

Idol AU

#henry the eighth #joan on the keys #bessie on the bass #maria on the drums #maggie on the guitar

[zal-cryptid]

what would jens and maria parents(or in maria case parent) look like as toy folk

I know Maria's mother would be one of them rattle drums.

⚠️ (TW: TRANSPHOBIA) ⚠️

#ask #misfits in toyland #Eleanor #maria #my ocs #dolls #toyfolk #my art #comic #original characters #drum #toy #cw implied abuse #trans stuff #lgbtq characters

[canonically-a-genloser]

.

#and randy wouldve gotten to watch them grow up #and sneeg wouldnt have been alone #and frank wouldve been his middle school crush and charlie wouldve been confused as hell #but he still tries to get sneeg to say one word to frank #and charlie practices the drums while sneeg talks about him before they go to bed and talk more anyway #and beau and maria get to meet sneeg and charlie #hhhhhhh what the fuck

[eskwander]

#valentina magaletti #maria chavez #drums #noise #Youtube

[bandana-enthusiast]

looking at the younger sister of my two sister ocs and wondering why i made her so sad. like i made a playlist to get a better grip on her character and APPARENTLY her soulmate (romantic or platonic idk yet) died when the server was nuked. did i mention these were originally dsmp ocs and i don't know how to rewrite them into anything else-

#my ocs #the younger one is cecilia #the older one is maria #they're in a band somehow #cecilia plays bass and drums and does backup vocals #maria sings and plays guitar or keyboard #idk who taught them to play tho they don't grow up great #and their relationship is strained #anyway fun oc info dump let's hope i draw them more

[drfeelgreed]

tag drop 001.

purchase. / edith carmine. use. / begg garrott. collapse. / roy maddock.

joy anger sorrow FUN. / maiza avaro. joy anger SORROW fun. / czeslaw meyer. JOY anger sorrow fun. / sylvie lumiere. joy ANGER sorrow fun. / nile. (smile.) / elmer c. albatross.

oil drum. / dallas genoard. flowers and dominos. / isaac dian. spear and knives and japanese katanas. / adele. rain and a letter and scissors and love and... / tick jefferson. documents and information. storm and terrorists. / rachel jones. the lethal weapons' lunacy is elated. / christopher shaldred. red eyes and red hair. / claire stanfield. slash. / maria barcelito.

#tag dump. #purchase. / edith carmine. #use. / begg garrott. #collapse. / roy maddock. #joy anger sorrow FUN. / maiza avaro. #joy anger SORROW fun. / czeslaw meyer. #JOY anger sorrow fun. / sylvie lumiere. #joy ANGER sorrow fun. / nile. #(smile.) / elmer c. albatross. #oil drum. / dallas genoard. #flowers and dominos. / isaac dian. #spear and knives and japanese katanas. / adele. #rain and a letter and scissors and love and... / tick jefferson. #documents and information. storm and terrorists. / rachel jones. #the lethal weapons' lunacy is elated. / christopher shaldred. #red eyes and red hair. / claire stanfield. #slash. / maria barcelito.

[perfettamentechic]

17 luglio … ricordiamo …

17 luglio … ricordiamo … #semprevivineiricordi #nomidaricordare #personaggiimportanti #perfettamentechic

2021: Jacqueline Sassard, attrice francese, attiva, principalmente in Italia. Sposò Gianni Lancia, ebbe un figlio, Lorenzo, e rimase vedova nel 2014. (n. 1940) 2021: Pilar Bardem, all’anagrafe María del Pilar Bardem Muñoz, attrice spagnola. Figlia dell’attore Rafael Bardem Solé e dell’attrice Matilde Muñoz Sampedro. Sorella del regista Juan Antonio Bardem. Sposò l’uomo d’affari Carlos Encinas.…

View On WordPress

#17 luglio #Andrea Calogero Camilleri #Bernard Giraudeau #Catherine Drum #Constance Adams DeMille #Dhia Cristiani #Elaine Stritch #Geraldine Fitzgerald #Harry Guardino #Jacqueline Sassard #Kathryn Carver #Kathryn Hill #María del Pilar Bardem Muñoz #Margo #Margo Albert #Margo Maria Marguerita Castilla Bolado #Mario Pisu #morti 17 luglio #Oscar Andriani #Paul Seltenhammer #Pilar Bardem #Renée Marcelle Jeanmaire #Rina Morelli #Yvonne Blake

[inkcorperated-blog]

Santana - Corazon Espinado || Alch3mist #Metal #Drumming

#youtube #Santana #Santos #MANA #Drum Playthrough #Corazon Espinado #Alch3mist #drums #drumming #Dance Music #Fresno #Maria Maria #black magic woman

[banishingsigils]

there are particular moments in songs/pieces, whether it’s instrumentation, or vocalization, that just light up my brain and are at least 50% of the reason why i listen over and over. it’s good i live alone because otherwise i’d be in headphones all the time when i’m like this to keep things civil with another person. no one should be subjected to me replaying ‘spillways’ five times in a row.

anyway, music is great, and it’s a very cool and weird thing we create as people.

#this post brought to you by me listening to ghost's discography #singing dancing and/or air drumming #because i can't not move to music #which is something i've become less self conscious about as i've learned the extent of my neurodivergency lol #maria blabs

[soullumii]

this is trouble | joel miller x f!reader

part 2

summary: it's been three weeks since joel last fucked you. tonight he finally has the time.

warnings/tags: 18+ smut mdni, filth. was meant to be plotless but sort of has plot now oops. fem!afab!reader, fwb, semi-public sex, vaginal fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected piv, secret fwb, dirty talk, bratty!reader, grumpy!reader, dom!joel, soft!joel as fucking always (i’m a romantic, what can i say?) little bit of feelings oops, some angst at the end oops, pet names, no use of y/n

word count: 4.6k-ish

a/n: couldn’t find a gif of joel stroking that damn guitar so i made one. lowkey hate this but i needed to upload something so here i hope u enjoy

so when you give that look to me,

i better look back carefully cuz this is trouble, yeah this is trouble

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

It’s been a good few weeks since you last fucked Joel.

Since this whole friends with benefits thing started between you. 

And tonight you’re kind of set on getting his dick back inside you again. Since, y’know, it’s been so long.

You’ve been craving it for a while, but tonight it’s kind of all encompassing. Kind of been the only thing on your mind since Tommy and Maria invited you out tonight. You and Joel, the latter who for the past three weeks has been busy with god knows what. 

You’re kind of pissed at him. Kind of really pissed. And your horny, pent up brain doesn’t help much with keeping your cool. 

At least you’re a few drinks in now, which has cooled your temper down some (though has spiked your libido quite a bit). Maria and Tommy are totally not picking up on your bad mood, though, thank god.

You swirl the last few dregs of wine in your glass, hardly listening to what Maria is practically shouting to you from the other side of the booth, since it’s so fucking loud in here. Your mind is caught on Joel standing at the other end of the Tipsy Bison.

You’ve been eyeing the way his hands curl around his glass of whiskey. The way his flannel stretches over his broad chest. The way his mouth moves as he talks to one of the stable hands named Harry. 

You remember the feeling of that mouth between your thighs.

Fuck, how much longer is he gonna make you wait? Another damn week?

He looks over at your table, eyes catching yours from across the room. You glare at him, trying to convey the frustration and lust and want you feel.  

His lip twitches in a smirk, seemingly having received your message. He pats Harry on the back, and then he’s sauntering back over to you and your little group of friends.

“Sorry ‘bout that.” He slides into his seat next to you in the booth. His scent of pine and sandalwood envelops you, a silent torture in and of itself. “Harold doesn’t know when to stop talkin’.”

Tommy laughs boisterously. When he’s had one too many drinks, he’s impossibly loud. “Man, I remember when he kept me at the greenhouse for an hour talkin’ about some bullshit.”

“He's a good guy. Just likes to talk." Maria glances at the radio perched in the corner, a new song playing through the speakers sprinkled throughout the bar. “Oh I love this song! Let’s go dance!”

Joel looks over at you, and you’re still kind of out of it, eyes fixated on the way the sleeves of his flannel are rolled up above his forearms, showing off the veins that snake across his skin, the muscles that shift with each drum of his fingers on the table top.

You’re not in any condition to dance at the moment, and Joel is certainly aware of it.

“I think we’ll stay here,” he says. “Y’all go enjoy yourselves.”

“Suit yourself.” Maria drags Tommy out to the dance floor, leaving you and Joel at this little booth tucked in the corner all by yourselves. 

Alone. 

In the dark. 

And you’re drunk. Joel, probably on his way there.

This is not going to end well. Or maybe it will. For you, at least. Just…not for any poor suckers who might stumble across whatever is about to take place. 

Joel lazes in his seat, casually stretching an arm over the back of the booth, pressing in close to you.

“Howdy,” he says.

“Hi,” you say.

“…You doin’ alright?” There’s a hint of amusement in his voice rather than any real concern, and you know he knows exactly what’s wrong with you.

“I’m fine,” you respond coolly.

“Really?”

“Yep.”

“I’m havin’ some trouble believin’ that, since you’re poutin’ like crazy right now, sweetheart.”

“I am not pouting-“

He laughs, full on fucking laughs at you. “Uh yeah, ya are. You’re actin’ like a lil brat. Givin’ me those goddamn eyes from across the room.” 

“Eyes? What eyes?”

His voice dips into something dangerously low, only for you to hear. “The ones practically beggin’ me to eat your pussy. Those ones.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, Joel!” you hiss, turning your head to hide your embarrassment. You drain the rest of your drink and immediately wish you had more. Or some water, at least, to cool down the warmth settling high in your cheeks. 

“That’s what you want, ain’t it?” 

“I don’t fucking know. Are you actually going to do it? Or are you just gonna leave me high and dry again?”

He sighs heavily, his fingers coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose and why is he the frustrated one here?

You’ve gone three fucking weeks without his dick in you! After he and you made a deal! You should be mad. Not him!

But maybe…maybe that’s just it. Maybe he isn’t fucking you because he just doesn’t want to anymore. And that, scarily enough, makes your chest ache and your eyes get all teary and wow you are so drunk right now. 

“Listen—“ he starts.

“Don’t make a promise you can’t keep, Joel,” you snap, folding your napkin into little squares to distract yourself from how upset you are. 

He pulls back, and you think he might just get up and leave you to stew angrily again. You could afford to throw yourself another pity party. There’s a bunch more napkins on this table that need folding.

He doesn’t leave, though. Instead, his hand settles warm on your thigh. Your fingers stall around the napkin. 

“I know I’ve been busy, but I intend to keep my promise this time,” he says softly, his hand squeezing your bare flesh, your sundress already having ridden up your thigh. “Don’t think you’ve been the only one cravin’ this.” 

His hand caresses down your inner thigh until his palm is cupping you through your panties, his knuckles brushing over your clothed entrance, and you’re grateful that the booth is angled the way it is, that you’re tucked on the inside, because it makes it a lot harder for anyone to see what he’s doing.

And it makes it a lot easier for you to give into it.

Your legs fall open, providing him more access to where you’re slick and ready for him, your knee pressing into his jean-clad thigh.

“Mm, there we go,” he smirks, stroking you through the fabric, and a tiny whimper escapes you. He leans in, his warm breath ghosting over your ear when he murmurs, “You’re such a drama queen when you’re horny.” 

Motherfucker…

Okay, yes. You can be a bit dramatic. But it’s not only your body that’s horny for him…your heart is kind of horny too. Joel is your best friend and to not see or talk to your best friend for three weeks is practically torture, especially when they’ve been giving you the good dicking down that you deserve. You have a right to be dramatic. 

You send him a scathing glare but it melts the moment his fingers pull your panties to the side and slip beneath the fabric.

You’re wet as hell. You know it. He knows it. But you’re still mad at him, and kind of drunk, so…

“Don’t you say fucking shit.”

“I wasn’t goin’ to.”

It’s a damn lie. He loves commenting on how wet you get for him. While it’s a bit humiliating for you, it only boosts his ego. Like hell he needs an ego boost, though.

His finger lightly swipes up your folds, and he bites down on his lip to try and hide the arrogant grin on his face at the way you thrust your hips forward needily with a breathy pant, but he’s failing. It’s practically impossible for The Joel Miller not to make things about himself.

“How often did you touch yourself thinkin’ about me while I was gone?”

Case in point. 

“Hmm…I don’t think I ever did.”

He circles the pad of his finger around your entrance, and stares you down with dark eyes, looking straight through your core, his voice dipping into something sultry and ragged and downright criminal. “You’re such a damn liar.” 

You feel like you might melt into the faux leather booth. Your thighs are already sticking to it, why not just become part of it at this point?

He slowly sinks his finger inside you, his thumb stroking your outer lips as he does so, and you’re boneless against the cushioned back of the booth.

“I’ll be honest for the both of us. Practically came to the thought of you every night,” he mumbles against your ear and lightly bites your earlobe. “Was thinkin’ ‘bout how much I missed you… ‘bout your body… ‘bout this perfect pussy.” He emphasizes each word with a pulse of his thick finger inside you. 

You shudder, your body lighting up at the thought of him lying in his bed, his hand closed around his cock as he came with a moan of your name on his lips. 

“Why didn’t you just come see me?” You huff, choking on a breath when he crooks his finger inside you, stroking your walls.

“Too much was goin’ on. Maria had me on patrol every morning, then I had guard duty to watch the folks that just left town. I wanted to see you, but I didn’t have enough time. You know I like takin’ my time with you, sweetheart.”

His excuse is valid enough, and he really does like taking his time with you. Content to just plant himself between your legs for hours to coax you through orgasm after orgasm. Or fuck you slow and deep, pulling back just when you’re on the crest to watch you squirm before he builds you up again, over and over until you’re practically screaming at him to let you cum. 

Still…he couldn’t have stopped by once to explain his situation? 

He slides in another finger, and you vaguely register that the song Maria and Tommy sauntered out to the dance floor to is coming to an end and another is starting in its place. They’ll be back soon.

“We can’t do this here,” you hiss, attempting to pull his hand out from under your panties, but it’s half hearted. You don’t want him to stop.

But he pulls back anyway, “If that’s what you want.”

It’s sweet, it’s considerate.. But he’s a damn jerk, because he knows how long you’ve been waiting for this. He knows you want him to keep going. Especially judging by the way he’s looking at you, eyes dark and hooded, the corner of wicked his lips twisting up…

He just wants you to fucking say it.

“Joel…” you grumble.

“What? You change your mind?”

Your fingers curl around his hand, tugging it down again, pressing it up against your throbbing core. That’s gotta be answer enough.

He’s not having it. “C’mon baby. Use your words…”

You scowl at him, muttering, “Don’t stop.”

“Speak up, sweetheart. Can’t hear ya. It’s loud in here.” 

Ughhhh! “Please touch me, Joel. Please don’t stop.”

He smirks. “As you wish.” 

Princess Bride reference. Cute. Makes your heart flop a little in your chest.

Joel eases his fingers back inside you agonizingly slow. He strokes the pads of his fingers inside you. A tingle unfurls in your chest, starts in your toes and spreads up your calves, and a low moan tumbles from your lips.

Thankfully, from anyone passing by, it would look like you two are just deep in a private conversation. Joel, pressed against you, leaning in close, and you, shielded from view by his broad shoulders, listening intently to whatever he’s saying.

They just don’t know that he’s breaking you down, brick by brick. That he’s making you leak all over this fucking booth. That it’s pure filth he’s muttering in your ear and not a juicy secret.

“God, you look so pretty takin’ my fingers, like you were made for 'em. Such a good girl."

“Joel, oh my god…”

Your breaths are coming out hotter, heavier, especially when Joel’s fingers slip out only to glide up through your folds to run delicious patterns over your clit.

“Fuck…” You whimper, the heat in your lap pooling thick and abundant. Your hips chase after his fingers, grinding against his hand.

You’re dangerously close.

“That feel good, baby…?” He eggs you on, his voice a rough rumble of thunder against your ear. 

It’s embarrassing how quickly, how enthusiastically you’re nodding, and Joel slips his fingers back inside you, his thumb coming down to rub circles on your clit as he fucks his digits up and into you.

The music is loud, but beneath it, you can hear the wet sounds of your pussy as Joel takes you apart, stroke by stroke, a steady metronome. 

You grasp onto his forearm desperately, your nails digging into the muscles there with a gasp of his name. “Joel-“

Shit. You’re seriously going to cum in this shitty little moth-eaten booth in the only bar in this entire town. You won’t be able to live it down. But you can’t bring yourself to care–you’re close, on the precipice, and you meet Joel’s dark, dangerous eyes, urging you to cum on his hand with a C’mon baby, you can do it, give it to me and you might, it’s right there it’s—

“…-ere did you learn to do that?”

The unexpected sound of Tommy’s voice has you frantically ripping Joel’s hand out from beneath your dress and scrabbling for a napkin to wipe up the mess on your thighs, on the fucking booth, your orgasm rearing back angrily and setting into a dull buzz in your limbs.

The wicked man beside you scoots himself further under the booth, likely to hide the hard-on he’s sporting. He wipes his hand on his thigh. You think you can hear him grumbling angrily under his breath at the interruption, but you’re not sure, ears instead trained on the sound of your friends getting closer. 

You reach for the drink menu, pretending to read it.

“I took dance classes in my free time before the outbreak,” Maria says as the couple closes back in on the booth you and Joel were totally not defiling. She shimmies at the both of you. “You guys really missed out on some of my great moves while you were moping.”

“We weren’t moping,” Joel defends.

“Sure…” Maria drawls.

If she only knew.

“I’m just not really feeling well,” you say. 

Maria’s playful grin falls into a look of concern. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m just tired. Need to go lay down, I think. It’s been a long day.”

“Let me walk you home,” Joel says, grabbing his coat he had slung over the booth and strategically positioning it over his pants when he stands.

“Thanks.”

“Feel better!” Tommy says, and you give him a grateful nod as Joel’s hand settles on the small of your back and he steers you out of the stuffy bar and into the cool summer night.

Katydids sing in the dark as you and Joel stroll down the street to your house tucked at the end of the cul-de-sac. Fireflies light the asphalt. An owl hoots overhead. 

“You really feelin' bad?” He asks quietly, once you’ve reached your front porch. 

"No. I just wanted to get out of there."

He hums. "Are you still mad at me?"

“I dunno.” Not really. You’re just pissed you were interrupted. Still, he needs to feel some remorse for his radio silence, so you don’t elaborate.

“I’m sorry,” he says sincerely as you unlock your door. “Really I am. There’s no excuse. I should’a made the time to at least tell you what was goin’ on. I’m sorry.” 

You open your door and pause in the warm light from the foyer. “You can make it up to me by fucking me.” 

“As good as that sounds, I wanna make sure you’re okay. Tell me what’s wrong.”

You sigh. Ugh. Usually Joel’s fine with pushing things to the side. Bottling things up. He does it a lot. You sort of wish he would just drop it right now. You don't want to deal with the weird feeling in your chest that's been here all night. But he’s looking at you, waiting.

"I just thought...Maybe you were done with this. With me."

He frowns. “Hell no. I like what we have. I don’t want it to stop anytime soon." He steps forward, wraps his arms around your waist to pull you in.

"Me too..." You murmur, hands drifting up his back, pressing him in close for a hug. "I'm glad you're safe."

He chuckles. “Course I'm safe. Why wouldn't I be?"

"I dunno," you say into his shoulder. "I just worry about you.”

"Yeah? You worry 'bout me a lot?"

You pinch his stomach playfully. "You're my best friend. Of course I do."

He pulls away a bit, huffs a tiny laugh. But it's not like his usual laughs. It's forced. Quiet. "Right."

You're a little too drunk to ask about it, and still horny enough to want to get things back on track, so you look into his dark eyes, smiling coyly, lip tucked between your teeth as you roll your hips into him. "Now that I forgive you…think you can fuck me now? Cuz it’s been way too fucking long.”

He groans softly, yes ma'am, and presses his lips against yours.

Okay, yes, he’s your friend but you also kind of kiss sometimes.

You tug him inside the house and shut the door, your mouth still latched to his. The moment the door snicks into the frame, he’s got you pressed against it, his hand rucking up your dress to bunch it around your hips while his tongue dips into your mouth.

You swiftly unbutton his flannel, sliding it down his arms. Your hands find his chest, fingernails scraping over his pecs, through his dark chest hair that thins out the further south it goes, but thickens again into a happy trail that disappears below his waistband.

Fuck, he’s so…

His fingers slip beneath the waistband of your panties, a repeat of earlier, and you break the kiss to drop your head against the door with a thump when his fingers find your clit again.

“Jesus, you’re so wet.”

…And there he goes.

“Three fucking weeks, Joel,” you bite, though the end of his name melts into a moan when his fingers sink inside you again. 

“Didn’t know you were keepin’ count.” 

“Fuck—“ He quirks a finger. “S-shut up.”

He huffs out an amused chuckle into your cheek, trailing kisses from your jaw down your throat. His teeth sink in, and his mouth suctions over your skin, delivering a beautiful little mark on your flesh that he kisses gently after. It drives you fucking crazy.

“I’ll shut up if you let me taste you,” he mumbles against your skin, his voice vibrating pleasantly through you.

Your pussy pulses around his fingers, your clit honest to god throbbing against his palm, and now he knows you really want him to eat you out, especially when you follow up with an enthusiastic nod.

Joel slips his hand out from beneath your panties to lift you up around his hips and carry you to your bedroom. He plops you on the edge of your mattress and immediately sinks to his knees on the floor, eye level with your cunt.

“God, been thinkin’ about you for weeks. Missed this pussy so goddamn much,” he says, leaning in to kiss your inner thigh.

His lips trail down your leg as he pulls your panties off and stuffs them into the back pocket of his jeans.

“Let’s see how good I did,” he says, pulling your legs apart to get a good look at what a mess he’s made of you. He hums appreciatively at the sight of your glistening folds, licking his lips. That enough has you clenching around nothing, fingers tightening in the bed covers. 

“You seein’ what I do to you? No one else can make you this wet, ain’t that right?”

“You’re such an arrogant ass,” you growl.

He just smirks as he lowers himself again between your legs. He puffs a breath of cool air along your slit before listing over to kiss your other inner thigh, grinning when you groan in frustration.

“Joel, please.”

“So impatient.”

“I’ve waited thr—“

“Three weeks, yeah I know.”

He presses forward to lick a hot stripe up your folds with the flat of his tongue, and your hand flies to his hair, anchoring him closer to your pussy.

“S-shit,” you whimper. 

He lightly drags a finger along your slit, the slight pressure fucking agonizing. 

“Joel.” You sort of want to scream at him. He’s been teasing you all fucking night. 

“Alright,” he laughs and allows you to guide his head back down until the bridge of his scarred nose is pressed into your folds and his tongue is prodding at your entrance. 

He takes his sweet time unraveling you, alternating between licking into you and sucking your sensitive clit into his mouth. You can’t say much, reduced to wordless cries with each movement of his mouth. 

It’s messy, sloppy, but you like it. You like seeing the wetness on his face when he pulls back for air. You like the way his hair is pulled in all different directions, all because of your greedy hands. You like the way he has to push one of his hands down to palm himself in his jeans, just to relieve some of that pressure.

He clearly loves eating you out. And you very much love that he loves it.

But you’re getting kind of desperate. Kind of really want to cum. So…

Your hips begin to grind against his face as he sucks on your clit, and he seems to receive the message because he slides two thick fingers into you and starts to eat you out in earnest, delighting with a low moan when your legs clench around his head, the scruffy hairs of his beard tickling your inner thighs. 

“Holy shit, Joel.”

“Mm—“ He moans.

Your foot keeps slipping off the bed, so Joel’s large, warm hand curls around your calves to situate your legs over his shoulders. This new position grants you more leverage to chase after your orgasm with steady rolls of your hips into his hungry mouth.

He sucks your clit as he thrusts his fingers into you at a brutal pace, hitting your g-spot that has you jerking against him with each stroke. His hand plants on your abdomen to hold you down, stilling your desperate movements.

You’re getting close, the pressure building and magnifying as Joel moans against your pussy, the vibrations driving you insane.

“Fuck, Joel—hah-“

“Mm.”

“Jesus, Joel—fuck—oh my—hnhh—”

“Mhm.” He encourages.

It shatters in you, white hot and falling over you, a waterfall of warmth. Your body straightens stiff as a board, back arching off the bed, quivering as you cum against Joel’s mouth, your slick running down his chin and catching in his beard.

You try to push him away, your orgasm overwhelming on its own, but Joel hates it when you do that, wants to make sure you really feel it, so he presses himself back in to lick and guide you through it. Drawing it out.

It has your head falling back, eyes rolling into your skull, mouth dropping open on a satisfied moan. 

He only gives you a short amount of time to recover while he pulls his jeans and briefs off. You tug your sundress over your head. And then he’s rising up to meet you again, scooting you back until your head almost brushes the headboard. He sinks his thick cock into you as he presses his lips against yours, muffling your surprised and needy moan.

And then he reaches up, his large hand gripping the headboard as your legs wrap around his waist, and then he’s fucking you in earnest, each snap of his hips sheathing his cock fully inside you in a desperate rhythm.

And all you can do is lay there and take it and fall apart.

“S-shit, baby,” he grunts. “That’s it.”

“Oh God…” You whine. 

Your hands scrabble for purchase on his back, your blunt nails scratching up his sun-freckled skin, feeling the muscles bunch and shift as he holds the thumping headboard steady, his knuckles turning white as he grips it. His other hand finds its spot next to your head, holding himself up as he obliterates your pussy. 

He prepared you well for him, but you’re still stretched so full, the breaths knocked from your lungs with each thrust of his cock into you. His pelvic bone brushes your clit with the roll of his hips, the uneven pressure dragging you closer and closer to that metaphoric cliff.

And his moans certainly help, too. He’s not quiet, between strings of praises are ragged moans and tiny whimpers. It only turns you on more.

“Fuck, Joel, can’t leave me without this again.”

“Trust me baby,” he groans. “Another damn week and I wouldn’t’ve survived.”

His hand releases the headboard, slides down to tangle in your hair. He tugs your head back, and molds your lips to his. Teeth nipping your bottom lip before his tongue dives into your mouth. You moan appreciatively.

You can hardly breathe, but god it’s perfect. This moment is so fucking perfect. You want to take a picture of it. Frame it on your damn wall. 

You’re sure it looks like he’s fucking eating you right now, but you like it. You want him to consume you. Want him to be yours… Want to be his.

Stop. He’s your best friend.

He pulls back to lick a stripe from the corner of your lips along your jaw before sucking marks and kisses down your throat, his hips still thrusting into you steadily. His hand squeezes your breast, rolls your nipple between his index and thumb.

“Oh…oh—“ God… 

“You close baby girl?”

“Fuck, ye-yes… Yes need you…”

“N-need me to help you cum?”

He’s losing it. You’re losing it. Fuck please!

“Please, Joel—“

He pulls back enough to watch you, lips pink and puffy and kissed the fuck out. His eyes drift to where he’s thrusting inside you, dick slick with your arousal, sheathing itself inside you with wet, fucking nasty sounds.

“God, you're perfect. So fuckin' perfect...” 

His hand drifts down and you tremble, brows screwing together as his thumb fiddles with your clit.

White hot arousal pools in your core, unrelenting. Unstoppable. You feel like a damn metamorphic rock. Becoming something new under all this heat and pressure. 

It crests, crashing, filling your insides with hot magma as your mouth drops open on a silent scream, eyes squeezing shut as your pussy clamps down on Joel’s cock repeatedly.

He follows right behind you, painting your insides with thick, hot cum, leaking out of your entrance over his cock and down your ass cheeks.

You hiss when he pulls out, feeling empty. He gathers the cum that leaked out with his thumb and pushes it back into your quivering hole. 

“So goddamn pretty…” he murmurs. “Look so pretty with my cum inside you…”

Friends. You’re friends. 

So why the hell does this feel like so much more? Why is it that you’re so turned on by him practically claiming you?

You’re still trying to catch your breath when he lays down beside you, brushing your hair out of your sweaty face. “Feel better now? Not so mad anymore?”

“Mhm,” you hum happily.

He leans in, presses his lips against yours softer, slower…meaningfully. You kiss him back, tugging him close. His arm snakes around your waist, tugging you into him. You're pretty sure normal friends with benefits don't do this. But you and Joel have never been normal.

In those long three weeks you had started to worry maybe he'd never come back. It fucking scared you. Now, you're unsure you ever want to let go.

When he pulls back his eyebrows are furrowed, lips drawn in a frown. He looks concerned. "What's wrong?"

"What?"

"You're cryin'..." He wipes your teary eyes with his thumb.

Fuck fuck fuck.

You scramble to wipe your eyes, sniff. Smile at him. Reassure. Act normal. "Oh, no-I'm fine. Just... think I'm still drunk."

"Somethin' going on? You looked like you were gonna cry back at the Bison, too. Did I do somethin'?"

You shake your head, squeeze his arm. "No, of course not. I'm just being weird. Tired, I think.”

"You sure?"

"Mhm.”

"You can tell me anythin’, y'know?"

What? Like I think I'm in love with you? Fat chance.

"I know. Everything's fine."

You’re such a damn liar.

He can see right through you, but he lets it go. "Okay. If you're sure." He leans in to press a kiss to your jaw. Friend. Friend friend friend. "I'd love to stay but I gotta go. Ellie's probably wonderin' where I'm at."

Joel sits up, swings his legs over the edge and stands. Grabs his jeans, pulls them up. His belt buckle jangles as he slides it through the loops.

“I really did miss you, by the way,” he says, looking down at you. “You. Not just the sex.”

His words warm your cool, exposed body. Fuel the burning the realization, I love you. “I missed you, too.”

He turns to leave, and you see the fabric poking out of his back pocket.

"You still have my panties."

He smirks. "Guess you'll hav'ta come over to get them back."

You smile back, blushing. “Looking forward to it.”

He leans down to kiss your head, "Night, angel."

"Night," you say faintly.

Only when your front door slams shut do you allow yourself to give into the fantasies. To imagine what it’d be like to call him yours. To not keep things a secret. To tell people you're together. To be his.

Damnit, you’re in trouble.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x f!reader #tlou #the last of us #joel miller #game joel miller #pedro pascal #joel miller x you #this is trouble

[mariamarachowska]

(Maria Marachowska "Siberian Blues")

#Siberian Blues #SoundCloud #music #Maria Marachowska #Acoustic Rock #Blues Rock #Guitar #Drums #soundcloud

[octuscle]

Life-changing cruise experience

Daniel had been warned time and time again: Leaving the ship without a cruise line-licensed guide is dangerous to your wallet and health. Daniel thought that was silly. After all, Salvador de Bahia was not a slum in a civil war-torn country. Yes, Brazil was not without danger. But nothing had happened in Maceio and Recife either. Nevertheless, to be on the safe side, Daniel only packed a little cash, left his wristwatch on board and took an old cell phone with him, which was certainly unattractive to pickpockets. At the pier, he took a cab and was driven directly to the old town.

Salvador de Bahia was incredibly beautiful. Yes, it was full of tourists. But luckily Daniel arrived in the old town before the buses. And in his simple clothes, he didn't look much like a cruise tourist, who were always easy victims. He enjoyed strolling through the alleyways and lost himself deeper and deeper in the labyrinth. The colorful baroque buildings became fewer and fewer, you could hardly hear any English and only what Daniel thought was Portuguese. The attacks from street vendors became more frequent and Daniel began to feel increasingly uncomfortable. And when he saw a knife flash at one of the nasty-looking guys, Daniel intuitively jumped into the nearest doorway. He had ended up in a capoeira school. He looked anxiously at the street where the mugger was looking around. Fearfully, he looked into the school, where a couple of guys were standing, not looking very trusting either. Suddenly one of the capoeiristas started grinning at him, shouted something to him in Portuguese and handed him one of the typical combat pants. Of course, Daniel felt silly putting these on. But returning to the street seemed much less attractive to him. So he put the pants on and joined the other students.

The movements seemed infinitely complicated to him at first. He didn't understand what it was all about. Until he realized that the teacher had obviously switched to English. At least Daniel understood the instructions, but he was still incredibly clumsy. The training was exhausting. Daniel lost track of time. He got better and better. The movements became second nature to him. The drum beats were incredibly familiar to him. He knew the strengths and weaknesses of his opponents. How long had they been training together? For as long as Daniel could remember. Even as a child, he had watched with fascination how elegantly the boys danced and moved their well-trained bodies. He had always wanted to be able to do the same. And with a certain amount of modesty, Danilo could say that he had become one of the best at his school.

Hehehe, he had never been able to say that about his real school. Sitting still and learning had never been for him. Fortunately, in addition to his talent for capoeira, he had dazzling looks and a stunning charm. Even if he could only talk to the tourists in broken English, that was enough to collect plenty of tips at his shows at Santa Maria Fort.

Danilo's specialty, however, was his private shows, which he performed either in the back room of the bar where he danced or in the hotel rooms of the gringos. And it didn't matter whether he was fucking the white ass of an American tourist or getting a blowjob from a German pensioner. His services were in demand. And expensive. Danilo loved his life!

Pic found @xq28-xq28-xq28, inspiration by @curioustoseewhatsup

#male tf #muscle tf #reality change #inked man #race change #age reduction #hairy pits

[fandomnerd9602]

Three's Perfect

WandaNat x Male Reader (Modern AU)

For @aloneodi

Rain hammered against the attic window, mirroring the storm brewing within Natasha. She sat bathed in the amber glow of a dusty photo album, her fingers tracing the faces that mocked her longing. Wanda and you, curled on the rug near the old rocking chair, watched her carefully, shadows clinging to your eyes.

Your polyamorous relationship, once a vibrant tapestry of whispered secrets and shared laughter, felt fragile now. Natasha, usually unflappable, was unraveling at the seams.

She choked back a sob, slamming the album shut. "Maybe it's just not in the cards for me," she rasped, her voice raw. Wanda reached out, but Natasha flinched away, a wounded animal seeking solitude.

Natasha had just gotten back from the doctors. They gave her some of the worst news she had received: there was only a slim chance that she could ever have children. The news had broken her heart into a million pieces. The three of you had dreamt of having kids for so long. Seeing Natasha's agony felt like being trapped behind a glass wall, you could see her pain and there was nothing you could do to soothe her.

Wanda, ever the empath, sensed her turmoil. She held your hand, the warmth of her touch grounding you. "I won't leave your side, Nat," she murmured, her voice a soothing balm. "Our love builds our family, remember?"

Natasha whispered, tears spilling down her cheeks. "But we talked about a whole nursery, tiny socks, bedtime stories..."

She trailed off, the image of an impossibly happy future shattering like a dropped glass. You swallowed the lump in your throat, reaching for Natasha. She leaned into your embrace, your own tears stinging your eyes. You held Natasha tight, not wanting to let this amazing woman out of your arms.

"This doesn't change how I or Wanda feel about you," you whispered, your voice laced with the ache of understanding. "Love doesn't change"

Wanda joined the huddle, a silent trinity full of grief and yet hope. The rain intensified, drumming a fierce rhythm against the attic roof.

Natasha, sensing the shift, pulled away, wiping her tears. "So, what now?" she asked, her voice a raw inquiry.

You met her gaze, Wanda's hand tightening in yours. "Now," you said, a hesitant smile gracing your lips, "we build that nursery. We can always adopt."

Wanda's eyes lit up, and Natasha, for the first time in hours, managed a shaky smile.

"Yeah" Wanda smiled, "I love it! I can see it now! You're gonna be such an amazing mother, Nattie!" Natasha actually began to giggle.

"Not as amazing as you, Wanda" the two gals hug each other and then you.

The storm outside hadn't relented, but within the attic, a new resolve bloomed. The love that they all shared would never changed. And the children that would run down the hallways of their home would feel that same amount of love.

You picked up Natasha and carried her down the stairs of the attic. Natasha giggled in your arms, just feeling all the love she needed.

Later, curled up in bed, the rain having mellowed into a soft patter, you held Natasha and Wanda close. The silence spoke volumes, a shared vow etched in the quiet. Their family was built on unwavering love that had weathered storms far worse than this. As they drifted off to sleep, nestled in the warmth of each other's arms.

Eventually the dream grew. The three of you adopted a little baby girl who Natasha named Maria. Wanda gave birth to twin boys who she named Billy and Tommy. And despite everything that she had been told, Natasha gave birth to a little boy who you named Alex. Your family of three grew to a family of seven and all of them knew only love.

#marvel #marvel imagine #marvel fluff #mcu #mcu fandom #mcu imagine #throuple #polyamory #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wandanat #wandanat x reader #wandanat x male reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow #black widow x reader #scarlet witch #scarlet witch x reader #male reader #x male reader #wanda maximoff x male reader #natasha romanoff x male reader

[buffyromanoff]

Rockstar Girlfriend

You and Nat are in a band, but thats not the only thing you do together (if you know what i mean 😏)

Warnings: kinda smutty, kinda fluffy

Lenght: a little less than 1k

"We should get dressed," you said, gathering your clothes from the floor. Nat remained sprawled out lazily, as if she didn't have a whole crowd of people waiting for her to go out and sing. "Or... I could go out looking like this. Bet my fans would love it," she teased.

You watched her as she put on her bra and black tank top, a playful glint in her eyes. "Oh they totally would , but you know who wouldn't love it?" you replied pointing at yourself, smirking.

Nat laughed, her voice filled with amusement. "Getting a little jealous there, y/n? Thought you didn't mind sharing me," she teased, enjoying the banter between you.

"I don't. You're free to do whatever you want... It's not like you're my girlfriend or anything," you responded, trying to sound nonchalant. But deep down, the unspoken truth lingered between.

Just as you finished speaking, the door swung open, it was Maria, your manager. "Show starts in five minutes!-What's going on in here? Actually, I don't want to know. Y/n, you should be getting your guitar ready!" Maria yelled,  breaking the playful atmosphere with her nervousness..

Maria was right, you two were being careless, so, you sprinted out of Nat's dressing room. 

You and Nat had been hooking up for the past two months. You tried to keep it a secret but it became impossible to hide from the rest of the band considering how unbelievably attracted you were towards each other. At first you were a little embarrassed about them knowing but now? No. In fact, you were more than attracted to Nat, you were in love with her. Were you going to tell her?  Absolutely not. There was no way you were gonna risk ruining what you already had with her

Tonight marked the final show of your band's tour and while you were looking forward to the relaxation it would bring...but it also meant less time spent with Natasha. 

The show went absolutely incredible. Carol's drumming skills were unmatched, Wanda worked her magic with the bass, and you played your guitar hitting every note with precision. But it was Nat who stole the show, her voice captivating the audience and leaving them spellbound as usual.

As the band members dispersed backstage, Carol winked at you, impressed by your talent. "Damn, y/n, that solo? Pretty hot," she praised with a flirty look in her eyes.

"Yeah, y/n, pretty hot. You should teach me sometime," Nat murmured from behind, playfully slapping your butt taking you completely off guard.

You turned to face to her, a mixture of surprise and amusement on your face. "Teach you, huh? Are you sure you can handle it?" you shot back, playfully raising an eyebrow.

Nat smirked, her eyes sparkling mischievously. "Oh, I can handle it, trust me," she replied, stepping closer to you. The energy between the two of you was electric, and even though you knew you should be keeping your distance, it was impossible to resist her.

As the adrenaline from the show began to fade, you found yourselves drawn to each other, locked in a passionate embrace. The backstage area was bustling with activity, but in that moment, it felt like the entire world had faded away, leaving only the two of you.

You started making out while Nat started to unbutton our pants but before things could escalate further, a voice interrupted your intimate moment. "Hey lovebirds…hate to break it to you, but we need to start packing up," Wanda called out, grinning at the situation she just walked into.

You and Nat quickly untangled yourselves, trying to regain composure as you exchanged sheepish glances. "Right, time to pack up," you mumbled, feeling a mixture of disappointment and relief. Damn it, you wanted Nat so badly, you needed her.

As the crew members dismantled the stage equipment, you and Nat worked side by side, stealing secret glances and playful touches whenever you could. There was an unspoken understanding between you, a connection so strong you never thought you’d be able to feel with anyone else…but Natasha was not just anyone.

Once everything was packed up and loaded onto the tour bus, you found yourself sitting next to Nat. The steady hum of the engine providing a comforting backdrop that made everyone fall asleep after 30 minutes on the road.

"Hey," Nat whispered, her voice barely audible over the rumble of the bus. "I had a great time with you, you know. These past few months have been... incredible."

You nodded, a bittersweet smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "Yeah, they really have " you replied softly. Nat sighed, her fingers tracing patterns on the armrest next to your wrist. Your eyes locked onto her full lips, and the intensity of her gaze hinted at her desires.

"Everyone's asleep," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. "Yeah, the tour was exhausting," Nat sighed. "Are you going to fall asleep on me too, y/n?" Her voice dropped into that lower, sultry tone she knew always made you weak. You shook your head, feeling your cheeks flush with warmth. "Good girl." That was it. You couldn't wait anymore. You NEEDED Nat right now.

But as much as you craved Nat's touch, you knew the timing wasn't right. The bus was filled with sleeping bandmates, and discretion was necessary. You couldn't risk being caught in such an intimate moment...until she spoke. ’Come here baby, we’ll be quiet’’.

You straddled Nat's lap, and with her assistance, you removed your pants, allowing her to put her fingers inside you but you were weak and the sensations overwhelmed you. You struggled to stifle your moans but Nat muffled your sounds with her spare hand, reminding you to keep quiet.

 ‘Shhhh, you don't want everyone to catch you being such a needy slut like this, don't you?’’ Nat whispered and you shook your head in agreement.

You rode her fingers till you came in silence, completely collapsing onto her body, which she found adorable. 

She rubbed circles on your back as you rested on top of her while unwanted thoughts rushed through your mind. 

"What are you thinking about?" Nat inquired softly. "Nothing," you lied, attempting to shield yourself.

"Were my fingers not good enough for you, Miss Guitarist?" Nat playfully teased, stealing a giggle from you. "Do you think I'd still be here, collapsed on top of you, if that were the case?" you responded with a hint of amusement.

‘’Then tell me’’ she persisted. Silence lingered for a moment before she spoke again ‘Oh come on malyshka, you know you can tell me anything''. -Fuck it- you thought, "I... God, I'm afraid I'll ruin everything, but here goes... I like you, Nat. Not just as friends, not just for the sex... I'm in love with you."

You felt Nat's body warming up beneath you. "I... wow," she murmured, caught off guard by your confession. Assuming the worst, you attempted to get yourself off from her lap, but she stopped you. "Y/n, I'm sorry. You just caught me by surprise," she said looking....happy? "I love you too."

In that moment, your lips met hers in a passionate kiss that soon turned into a full blown out make out session. However, the mood was abruptly interrupted by a loud yawn from Wanda, who had just woken up two seats behind you.

"Shit," you whispered, scrambling to hide in your seat. Nat quickly handed you your pants, winking mischievously. "We'll continue this at the hotel" she whispered with a promise in her eyes and you knew damn well the wait was gonna be worth it.

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff fanfiction #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x fem #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #dom!natasha romanoff x reader #scarlett johansson #marvel fanfiction #marvel #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff fluff #rockstar nat