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thebestofoneshots · 1 month

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A LITTLE BIT OF PAINT | TEASER

Piring: R.L. x S.B. x reader Prompt: Sirius and you are art students and you’ve gotten an assignment, a nude painting, but you can’t paint each other. Trying to convict Remus to model for you was hard enough, but painting him, while he looks so damn stunning, might prove a harder endeavour to accomplish. Warnings: the complete story will contain smut (this has some mild teasing and a few nudе scenes)

“So?” Sirius asked as he leaned onto Remus, “would you do it?”

“Pretty please?” you asked with a small pout and a few blinks.

Remus sighed, “Why don’t you just paint each other?”

Both you and Sirius had been trying to convince Remus to be your nude model for an assignment for the last 20 minutes. He was your best friend, and both you and Sirius had always wanted to use him as a model, but had never been too keen to do it, not even clothed. But you needed him now.

“We can’t do someone we’ve fucked,” Sirius said with a sigh, “We’d already done it otherwise.”

“Just use each other and draw a face from a magazine,” Remus offered.

“It won’t work either,” you responded now, “We’ve both been models for the class, they know our bodies. We wouldn’t be asking you if we didn’t need you, please Moony!” Remus looked to the side, licking his lips before biting on the bottom one and sighing, however could he say no to the two of you.

“Okay,” he whispered.

(...)

You took your hoodie off and then, but it wasn’t until you took a hold of your shirt and flipped it over your head that Remus realised what was going on. Your hands were behind your bra when he averted his gaze to the side completely blushed. “Sirius, If you’re painting her, can I leave?”

“Of course not,” Sirius said simply, “I’m painting the both of you.”

“You what?”

“Eros and Psyche, remember?”

“But you said you couldn’t paint people you’ve fucked,” he retorted in a rather accusing manner.

“Yeah, that’s why I’ll switch her hair colour and you’ll cover her face.”

“You never said I’d have to pose with your naked girlfriend!”

“It’s okay Rem, I don’t mind, I’ve been a nude model for the class a couple of times.”

Remus, as he would naturally turn to look at you when you spoke, but quickly turned his head to the side when he realised you were now completely naked.

But I do! He thought as he tried to think of anything other than the curve of your breasts. Naked grandma, naked grandma.

You eyed Sirius, “Maybe we can–“ you started, biting your lip.

“Nonsense. We’re all adults, go on.”

You gave Sirius a stern look and he gave you back an equally determined one, nodding towards Remus, a clear indication for you to walk his way.

You took a deep breath but did what he wanted anyway. Walking towards Remus and gently placing a hand on his shoulder, “Hey, If you really don’t want to do this-“

Remus’ head snapped your way, he focused his eyes on yours as best as he could, “No, I– I just– I wasn’t mentally prepared.”

You smiled and tilted your head. You could see the self-restraint he was using not to look at your chest, Sirius was really trying not to cackle behind you as he sharpened his pencils, “You can look,” you said, “you’re gonna see them anyway Rem.” He gave you a frustrated frown. You smiled teasingly in return.

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and looked. He was about ready to just stare for half a second and then move on with his life but he couldn’t quite look away. Not when he saw them perk up for him, his warm breath so close to you causing such a reaction.

“They’re beautiful, aren’t they?” Sirius said with a smile from behind the easel. The kind of confident smile of one who knew he could touch them whenever he wanted.

Remus cleared his throat and looked at Sirius. “Go on with your painting, yeah?”

“You haven’t even posed,” he retorted with a smile. You turned your head over your shoulder to look at your boyfriend, “where do you want me?”

Remus tried not to think of those words, and not to memorise them either. He didn’t want to have dreams about it.

(...)

“Not really,” you said honestly, leaning your head on his shoulder a little more, that was something you had done often, with clothes, though. “I’ve never modelled with anyone other than Sirius. I only said I would because it would be you.”

“You what?” Remus asked, you accommodated and your lips accidentally brushed against his neck, he felt the blush spreading, he was losing control. He couldn’t keep thinking of a naked grandma when he had you pressed against him, whispering on his neck, your warm breath against his skin igniting him like a match against dry leaves.

A LITTLE BIT OF PAINT IS OUT NOW!!

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dxm-b00 · 4 months

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Pampering the qween | Vil Schoenheit

An: just reposted on here from wattpad

cw: bondage, aftercare, feminization, body worship, praising, degrading, hand job , light marking, edging, sex toys, anal fingering, overstimulation (don't remember if the reader's gender is mentioned)

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It was a pretty rare occurrence for Vil to have a day off. No photo shoots, no movies or commercials recordings. Your poor baby works so hard everyday trying to be everyone's number one favorite person.

So once you got the call from him asking you to come over to his dorm; you didn't hesitate to waste any second, but you didn't expect anything else when arriving their.

A pair of dark beautiful sapphire violet eyes looked up to you, his black expensive eyeliner was trailing down his soft clear porcelain face. The beautiful dark red apple color lipstick was smeared all over.

Vil was wearing a cute little purple crop, a short white mini skirt that just barely covered his pre-cum oozing cock, he was also wearing a light purple that faded into white thigh high stockings that perfectly covered his plump thighs.

And just underneath the article of clothing, Vil was wearing a neatly tied set of ropes around his body that perfectly squeezed his body. His blond dyed lavender purple ends hair was sticking to his forehead as the rest was pulled in to a small ponytail or loosely laying out on the bed.

"You look so beautiful like this Vil." You was kissing his neck you sucked on his sweet spot, making sure not to suck too hard to damage his precious skin otherwise it will cause a hickey to form. Vil moaned so beautiful. A light shade of blush dusted over his cheeks, your fingers was ghostly touching his cock.

"Mmm..(y/n)." You lifted up his crop top, pulling it over his head. You leaned down his chest quickly giving him a peck on the lips. Quickly pulling away from him before he could desperately tried sitting up to kiss you again, but you looped your finger around the rope making it tighter.

"Ah, (y/n)..." Vil groaned out, while you smiled in enjoyment. You got up from sitting up from his crotch, you went to his dresser draw moving a few things around as you took out the sex toys the blond housewarden hid secretly in their. If anyone found out he had those his reputation will be tarnished.

"Please...touch me." He begged, his glossy eyes looked up to you. Your hands rubbed his silky smooth thigh highs, you could see his cock twitch underneath the short skirt. Your dominate hand snaked under his skirt, flipping the clothing up to land on his stomach. Buds of pre was leaking down past his slit.

Your hand wrapped his dick giving it a few pumps before you start at a slow pace. "Ah-!! Nghh. . .~" You cooed at him hushing him down so his dorm mates wouldn't hear him; his body was always so sensitive, you could always overstimulate and edge him for hours which is what you were going to do.

"Please-please go faster, it's driving me crazy." he said in between moans and whines. You didn't want him getting too needy so you sped up the pace. The hand you jerked him off with went faster, your thumb would swipe across the slit a couple of times."Mmm~" You simply chuckled at him, your eyes swallowed up the view of his cock throbbing as more of his pre-cum dripping down on to your hand.

Smirking to yourself as a thought came to you, your hand started to jerk him faster. Vil let out a chocked out moan, "Ah- wait..If you go that fast I'm gonna-!" You let go of his cock, Vil's arched his back so beautifully.

For a split second you would've thought he did this with other people. You going with this torturous method until he was begging and sobbing for you to stop, he tried a couple of times to grab your hand to stop you but you slapped his hands away.

Tears of frustration was overflowing in his eyes, no matter how much he begged for you to let him come, kissing his cheeks to calm him down, just to torment him all over again. "Am I not giving you what you want, baby?"

He couldn't even form the words, he just shakes his head, fat blackish tears rolling down his face as he struggled to look at you. Another smile formed on your lips, you leaned back down to kiss his soft lips. It was passionate at first but it slowly started getting sloppier by each second.

Teeth was clashing into each other, your tongue caressing and exploring each corner in his mouth, drool slipped past both of your lips. Vil moaned against the kiss, thick, sticky, warm cum spurted all over his skirt and your hand. You slowed down your hand as you coaxed him through his intense orgasm. "Good job, princess," you gently let go of his cock, wiping your cum spilled fingers over his asshole.

He threw his head back as you slipped one of your fingers inside him tight hole. It was just a single digit, but you was still able to take his breath away making him mewl out in sensitivity from your touch. Pumping your middle finger in an out of his ass- it just enough for him to feel the pressure tighten the coil in his belly. His walls pulsated against your finger, you rubbed his inner thigh. "Baby relax."

You gave him a gentle smile as you add your ringer fingers, feeling him loosen up. His thighs were shaking, every spasms you felt oh his wall as you pressed on his prostate had, his hole fluttering around you, eyes rolling back and moaning out your name. It all belonged to you.

Your fingers curled up against his sweet spot, drawing out higher pitched moans as more of the milky substance leaked out. Pulling out your fingers out of him. You pulled down one of his thighs, lifting up his legs to place soft kisses on the soft skin. You grabbed one of Vil's favorite butt plug.

Circling the toy around his puffy hole before slowly pushing the toys inside, not wanting to hurt him. “F–fuck!” you wait for him to relax. “There you go it's all the way in now.” you dip your head between his thighs, you place soft kisses on his tip.

“Can you go another round sweetie?” he nodded his head, you grabbed the vibrator wand off the bed. Turning it on the lowest an putting it on his sensitive dick, Vil squirmed and bucked his hips. The overstimulation and sensitivity was getting too much for him. He was on the brink of passing out, his body was exhausted.

“Too much, so sensitive!” Moving the vibrator all over his cock, his pupils we're blown wide with lust, and you could see the desperation in him. Pure excitement washed over you as you came to knew what was going to happen neck.

A few more minutes and he came undone for you again, arching his back off the bed again as he shook violently on the bed while making a mess of himself again and the purple sheets. He came down from his high, energy drained completely as he laid on the bed.

His chest is heaving up and down trying to catch his breath, his eyes closed shut everything felt too much for him. He softly drifted off to sleep, you went to the bathroom an came back with a wet suite towel, make up wipes and ointment, in your hand, gently untying the rope you kisses and rubbed in ointment to any spot where the rope left a mark.

After you was done with that you opened the make up wipes packaging to clean up any that was left over and used the towel to dap any sweat, drool and cum on his skin. You put put away the things you used. Getting on the bed as you laid him on top of you, pulling the covers on both of you. “I love you Vil.” You said kissing his forehead as you played with his hair.

#twst #disney twst #vil schoenheit #vil smut #sub!character #sub character #sub vil schoenheit #old work #wattpad #twisted wonderland #sub twisted wonderland #female reader #dom reader #dom!reader #top reader #gn reader #male reader #f

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spoops-screams · 10 months

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| You and I

Character(s): Malleus Draconia

TW: Bullying (?), loneliness

Genre: Comfort/ fluff

Notes: Gender neutral MC || Getting back into all of my fandoms slowly but surely 👍

"They're always off on their own."

"Yeah, they don't talk to anyone. They just sit down in the gardens and draw all the time."

"Do you think they have any friends?"

"D'know. I know the housewardens are kinda close with them after the overblots and they've got those two from Heartslabyul around them sometimes but they don't talk to any of them."

"It might just be because people need help with the overblots. It's not like there seems to be much that they can offer since they don't have magic. They just seem to be convenient to have around."

"Yeah, maybe—"

"Child of man."

"Hm?" You looked up to the sound of the familiar voice, meeting Malleus' green eyes and noting his furrowed brows and the slight pull of a frown at his lips, prompting you to immediately put your pencil and sketchbook down as worry swept into your mind.

It’s quiet for a moment; not your usual comfortable silence when Malleus has noticed how tired you’ve gotten on one of your walks or when you both simply don’t know what to say but know that you don’t have to fill the silence, but it’s heavy and it worries you the longer than it stretches on.

"Malleus? Have I done something wrong." You only just managed to stop your voice from exposing the depth of your concern, multiple ideas running through your head as you considered the possibility that he might be upset with you. Your anxiety spiked with your heartbeat and you wished for it to slow down. It was almost ridiculous how quickly you were to jump to conclusions. You were overreacting, surely.

You weren't scared of him; far from it. He was perhaps the person that you felt closest to and safest with in this world but you were scared of the idea of him being upset with you.

It was irrational, sure, but a little voice in your head still nagged you with currently unfounded concerns and fears of what would happen if you upset one of the only friends you had here. The people who talked about you being your back only really consolidated the idea that you didn't really... Have anyone here. Not that you really minded.

You were used to being lonely, yes, but you didn't want to be whenever you were with Malleus. You didn’t have to be. You couldn't stand the thought of upsetting him and prompting him to leave you alone.

The draconic fae paused for a moment and his frustration melded into concern as he watched your face twist into slight panic. He had spent so long with you that he could tell what your worries were before you'd said them. "I am not frustrated with you. Are you aware of the manner in which people speak about you?"

His emphasis had you almost breathing a sigh of relief before his actual words had registered in your mind. It took you a moment to realise what he was talking about as you sat there somewhat dumbly as you stared up at him, tilting your head to the side in confusion.

"What do you-" And then it hit you. "Oh! I mean, yeah, more or less. Why?"

It wasn't like you didn't know about the things people said about you. You just didn't care about for it to be at the forefront of your mind. Otherwise, you would never get anything done and you preferred to be able to draw in peace without having to constantly worry of other people's opinions of you though perhaps it was partially because of Vil's overblot that you were really able to ingrain that into your belief system.

"And you don't see an issue with this?"

"Well, not really? It's not like I've given anyone any reason to think otherwise and it's not exactly an unfound belief." You shrugged, the matter really not meaning much to you. You were used to it. You had expected that kind of reaction considering your support for the housewardens and vice wardens was paired with your isolation from people.

"I do kind of just stay out of the way until I'm needed and it doesn't bother me all that much. I'm only really close to you, Ace, Deuce, Silver and Lilia, if you don't count Grim. There aren't really many people here that I could really consider friends, even Sebek would be a very emphasised maybe, so I don't really have an issue with people just saying what they see."

"Honestly, I'm only barely there at the friend mark with Ace and Deuce because of how little I'm around them nowadays so it doesn't bother me much. It's not like I know these people so I have no reason to care what they say."

He looks down at you with an unreadable expression before he sighs with his eyes closed, muttering something too quickly under his breath for you to catch. He doesn't seem to know how to respond to this. He's used to loneliness, it follows him everywhere he goes because of who he is and what he represents, but you?

You're everything he feels that he isn't. So why would be resign yourself to being alone?

He hesitates to sit down next to you and you notice the way that he shifts. Reaching an arm up slightly, you gesture for him to sit down. “Come on, it can’t be that comfortable to be looking down at me the whole time. I know it isn’t comfortable craning my neck to look up at you.”

He stares at your hand for a second. It’s strange, and the first edge is still for a moment. You make a move to retract your arm, an apology ready on your lips, but he reaches out and grasps it in his.

He stares at your hand again. “Are you not-?” He doesn’t finish his question but you understand him well enough.

Are you not lonely? He can’t say the whole thing out loud. It would make him consider who he’s actually asking too deeply if he was to do so.

You smile easily up at him. “Not really. I mean, I’ve got you, haven’t I?”

Do not repost, edit or claim. Only reblog 💕

#twst #twst wonderland #twisted wonderland #twst malleus #malleus draconia #twst fanfiction #twst fanfic #twisted wonderland fanfiction #twisted wonderland fanfic #malleus x reader #disney twisted wonderland #malleus draconia x reader #twst comfort #malleus comfort #twst fluff #malleus fluff

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cyber-clown · 3 months

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i think that this tweet is art. i do NOT mean that i think the picture itself is art - i mean the tweet. i'm sure many people (probably including the shitposter who posted this originally) will disagree with me but i'm going to give you a quick surface level explanation of why i feel this way.

first of all, we're greeted with this vapid little soundbite of a comment. i think the cultural awareness of the piece in question makes this hollow comment with plasticine emojis ring even more frictional with the original work. instantly, we're given a stock, throwaway "wholesome" twitter caption to lead us into the "finished" work. there's something very interesting to me about this contrast - typically, captions like this are intended to be uplifting but shallow. their purpose is to bring attention to a little bit of context, gear the audience to feel a certain way, and then bow out, forgotten. this caption instead raises multiple ideas (incorporation of generative AI, the concept of "finishing" a piece that was intentionally left unfinished by its deceased creator) that are guaranteed to draw aggression from a large number of people

the contrast, then, of this piece is informed by multiple factors beyond it itself. it assumes the audience will have not just a familiarity, but a predisposed reaction to this kind of post - a kind of absent-minded, agreeable reaction to stimuli. in my opinion, this works to call into question the immediate context of the tweet:

the piece is framed as a quote reply to this relatively standard engagement farm tweet. as we will briefly cover, the piece uses external conversations and contexts to call into question the relationship people, especially online on social media, have to art, its creation, its value, and its place in society. what i, personally, find poignant is the way this then goes on to prompt a discussion on the original tweet for which the piece is an addition to - is it vapid and disrespectful, or perhaps generating a conversation and teaching people about the poignancy of art? is this conclusion in any way changed by its structure and intent, that of a twitter reply chain aimed to generate algorithmic presence and attention? is it less offensive to use the work of somebody who died of AIDS to boost your twitter metrics than it is to force your way in to "fix" or "finish" it?

the piece makes its intention to call external biases and topics into question almost immediately - the concept of "finishing" Keith Haring's unfinished painting, the nature of our consumption of art, and the AI movement and frustrations that it is a spearhead of a wider reification and commodification of art. what is rough must become polished, what is abstract must become literal, what is unfinished must, then, be finished, even if its nature as an unfinished work has been subsumed into the wider conversation around it.

this is, frankly, inflammatory. the author is clearly aware that the character they are portraying here is one who many people - even those who may not otherwise have strong feelings on the topic of AI in art - will take issue to and challenge. it is an idea that generates strong animosity for a wide variety of reasons. it is in this animosity that i believe interesting discussions can be raised. what, if anything, would we consider a respectful way to build on this piece? for example, is the display of Keith Haring's unfinished painting in a way becoming a part of or extension to the art itself? after all, the mere act of deciding to exhibit an unfinished piece by a dead person is, in itself, a decision that contributes to the discussion and perception of the piece in its wider social context. are there pieces of art we wouldn't consider disrespectful to complete, and is that effected by the tools and techniques used, the people who do it, or the meaning they put into it?

finally - the image itself. the layout of twitter as a platform quite literally frames the "finished" artwork, thrusting it at the viewer as if to taunt them. it is a work that simultaneously completes the original piece while adding absolutely nothing. there is no new visual language, there are no new ideas. the author has left no personal touch on their attempt at an extension of the original work - neither any additional commentary nor some reflection of relative personal tastes or skill levels. this is no botched restoration of jesus. the generative algorithm used has, paradoxical to its flawless reflection of technique, made some clear stylistic errors - the pattern extends out to the borders, shapes are remniscient of Haring's work on the original piece yet lack any kind of grounding or believability, turning into an abstract jumble of distantly familiar shapes. it is, somehow, only evocative of the piece that it literally is. the image presented has nothing to say because it, by its nature, cannot say anything. and yet it has generated such a strong set of reactions to itself.

most notable to this abstraction of intent, in my mind, is the way that the algorithm has covered the original's running paint. the paint dripping from the borders of Haring's handiwork conveys a grim message - his signature bold, controlled brushstrokes are in stark contrast to the sharp, thin paint, evoking a similar discrepancy to that of Haring's inspired worldview to his cruel circumstances and tragic death. this is covered in the "finished" version. like a forest paved over, the poignant, challenging, and uncomfortable are replaced with the safe and standard.

this destruction of subtext is painfully remniscient of a time where it feels as though iconography refuses to die, constantly recycled by people who couldn't give a single shit about artistry or creativity unless it has the potential to be more exploitable than any alternative. in this environment, ground must be retread as much as possible. there is no prior character undeserving of a spotlight, no location undeserving of a setpiece, no event undeserving of retelling, no dead man undeserving of sparing his work the airbrush. it is a total stagnation - no corpse may be left to rest in peace if there is the potential that it may be continually exploited for gain.

so, to cut myself off a little, that is how i feel. this piece is subversive, it is frustrating. it calls our preconceived patterns, behaviours, and biases into question. it raises potential issues over how we engage with art - both the corporate subsumation of it in our culture along with the smaller scale calficiation of art into a tool to prompt brief, unchallenging reactions during periods of engagement with the corporatised internet. it also challenges the current direction and application of artificial intelligence as, effectively, an easy tool for those who do not care to engage with art to extract value from it, which raises further questions about the exploitation of artists and labour as a whole in our society. i think it is incredibly interesting how so much meaning, feeling, and conversation can be generated by somebody shitposting on twitter

#sorry for being insane

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therealdisneyfan2319 · 1 year

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Two Sides | Natasha Romanoff

Summary: There are two sides to Natasha Romanoff. One is the side the world sees. The second is just for you.

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Male Reader

Warnings: Smut (Minors dni), language

Word Count: 2.8K

A/N: This was a request from @jgmg10. Enjoy!

There’s a difference between the Natasha Romanoff the world knows and the Natasha Romanoff you know. To the world she was the Black Widow, a cold, deadly assassin who kept most people at arm’s length. Anyone who knew her saw a woman who was closed off and unavailable to any sort of intimate relationship. Her standoffishness added to the mystery that surrounded her. Beneath the hardened exterior was a core of absolute fluff. Contrary to popular belief, Natasha was a total softie. She adored the idea of being taken care of. She kept her walls up around the rest of the Avengers, but occasionally she’d slip up, her warmth cracking through her otherwise sturdy facade. These chance appearances drew you to her. You weren’t sure what you caught a glimpse of the first time you really saw her, but you were instantly hooked. You craved this softer side of Natasha, yearning for her to open up to you.

It took a while, but with a little coaxing and reassurance you began to chip away at her. You watched the remnants of her days in the Red Room melt away as she grew to trust you. She became a completely different person when it was just the two of you in private. The first time you really saw her smile your knees just about gave out. And the first time she let you kiss her you thought your heart would burst. You were her safe space, the one person she could truly be herself around

***************************************************************

Natasha slammed the door shut as she stormed into your apartment, mumbling to herself as she threw a stack of manilla folders on the table in frustration.

“Everything okay?” you asked, looking up from your laptop.

“No,” she huffed. “Tony’s an asshole.”

“What else is new?” you chuckled.

“I’m serious, Y/N!” She paced around the living room furiously, the anger bubbling up inside her. “I can’t believe he’d be so-”

“Babe, it’s Tony, alright? You and I both know how he is.” You didn’t take your eyes off your girlfriend as she tried to walk a hole in the floor. “Just calm down.”

“Don’t you tell me to calm down! Do you know what he did?!”

You sighed, closing your computer and shoving it off your lap. “Natasha,” you coaxed, patting your lap. “Come here.” You knew she wouldn’t be able to resist the chance to be taken care of.

Natasha’s frown started to melt into a soft smile as she walked over to you. The fact that you were the only one in the world who could elicit this side of her made your heart swell with pride. All you wanted was to make her feel better and you would do whatever it took to get her there.

She sat on your lap, her knees digging into the couch as you wrapped your arms around her, your hands gripping her lower back as you gazed up into her shining green eyes. She stared back, her cold eyes softening as you managed to draw their warmth from within. “Hey baby, you can relax, okay? Let me take care of you,” you whispered, tightening your grip on her back and pulling her close.

“Okay,” she murmured, a grin spreading over her face as her brain switched off. She was absolutely yours, melting like putty in your hands. Natasha always needed to be in control. It was one of the scars from her days in the Red Room. She’d been stripped of her autonomy at such a young age and spent every day of her adult life overcompensating for it. That need melted when she was around you.

Grinning, you leaned forward and planted a chaste kiss on her lips. She smiled against your lips, reaching up to clasp her hands around the back of your neck. You felt her relax into you as you rubbed her back. The gesture was simple but the effect it had on her was powerful. Your touch signaled that it was safe for her to be vulnerable.

“What do you want, princess?” you murmured against her mouth. Her hot breaths came raggedly as she tumbled further into her mindless state of pleasure.

“I want you to take care of me, daddy,” she breathed. Her lips brushed yours as she spoke. You smiled, walking your fingers up her spine and resting them on the nape of her neck.

“Do you trust me?” Natasha nodded eagerly. “I need to hear you say it.”

“I trust you.” It was the ultimate act of submission. She surrendered control of her body to you. Any and all decisions were yours to make. All she wanted was for you to make her feel good. And god did you love giving Nat as much pleasure as you could. It didn’t bother you that she preferred to be the recipient instead of the giver most of the time. Your most intimate moments brought you closer together in more ways than you could’ve ever imagined regardless of who did what.

Your hands pulled on the back of her neck, coaxing her forward as you tilted your head up to capture her soft lips in yours. She sighed into the kiss, bringing her hands up to cup your cheek. You kissed her tenderly, your mouth gliding over hers as you tasted the cherry chapstick she coated her lips in every morning. Your tongue danced over her bottom lip, swiping over it as she welcomed the new sensation inside her mouth. Her tongue found yours as you moaned into her mouth. The sensation of your tongues wrestling around her mouth drove you wild. You pulled back after a moment, breathing hard as desire coursed through your veins. Natasha’s breathing was equally as flustered. She gazed down at you, her eyes half-lidded with desire.

“Come on, baby. Bedroom,” you breathed. Natasha wrapped her legs around your midsection and clung to you like a koala as you carried her to the bedroom the two of you shared. You gently set her down on the bed, crawling on top of her and immediately attaching your lips to her neck. Your teeth grazed over her porcelain skin, nibbling on the sensitive skin. She tugged at your hair in response. Nothing made her feel more alive than the sensation of your teeth so close to her pulse point. You felt her heart beat faster in your mouth as you sucked her neck, marking her as your own.

“Feels good,” she mumbled. Her brain short-circuited as you kissed up her neck, biting and sucking as red and purple bruises painted her otherwise porcelain neck.

Cold hands worked their way under your shirt. You jumped at the sudden sensation, Natasha giggling as you recoiled in shock. “That was mean,” you chided lovingly.

“Sorry,” she giggled, kissing your nose as you pouted down at her. You smiled as you stared into your lover’s eyes. You lost yourself in them, as you did on a daily basis, and found the love of your life staring back. Neither one of you broke your gaze as your hands trailed down her body. You traced every inch of her curves, your hand ebbing and flowing with the contours of her toned body as they came to rest in the waistband of her jeans. Slowly, you brought them from the sides of her waist to the front. Her breath hitched, hips subtly rolling upward as she felt a pang of arousal shoot through her at your touch.

“Let’s get these off, hmm?” Your fingers hooked over her belt loops as you tugged at the stretchy fabric. Natasha raised her hips off the bed, helping you pull her pants off. You made sure to drag her panties off along with her pants. You threw them off to the side, not wanting them to get in the way. The thought of what you were going to do to your girlfriend sent a jolt of nervous energy throughout your entire body. No matter how many times you made love your heart fluttered in anticipation of what was to come.

The sight of Natasha’s aroused pussy caused your mouth to water. It took all your self-control to not ravish her instantly. Her taste was intoxicating. You learned that the first time you went down on her. The act itself was divine and the result was nothing short of a miracle. You loved worshiping her, plain and simple. She was your communion.

“Daddy please,” Natasha whimpered. She begged for your touch. Anything to alleviate the ache between her legs. You smiled up at her as you nestled yourself between her legs. Your hand reached under her shirt, caressing her abs as you searched for her breast. Groaning, you realized that she wasn’t wearing a bra.

“You are such a tease, you know that?” You grinned at her. Natasha’s chuckled turned into a hitched breath as you peppered the inside of her thigh with butterfly kisses. She squirmed in anticipation, her body flushing as your kisses ignited a fire of lust within her. You moved slowly, teasing her as your feather-light kisses traversed up one thigh and down the other. She whined as you skipped over her most sensitive area. You smiled to yourself as her whining intensified: you wanted to draw it out as long as you could before giving her everything she wanted and more.

Her whines turned into a moan as your mouth found its way to her center, licking a stripe from her entrance to her clit. You hooked your arms around her legs, pressing them to the side to give yourself the most access to her possible. She bucked her hips against your mouth as she felt your tongue against her clit. The way she squirmed under your touch drove you wild, causing a rush of heat to spread over your entire body.

You moaned at her taste, feeling how wet she was as her arousal dripped down your chin. Natasha reached down and tangled her hands in your hair. She wasn’t controlling but her touch was enough to keep your head smothered in the heat radiating from between her legs. You lapped the sensitive bud with light strokes, your tongue tickling her clit.

“Oh fuck, that’s it, daddy,” she moaned as you worked your ministrations against her. You curled your lips around her clit, sucking the sensitive nub into your mouth. Your tongue swirled, drawing lazy circles around it. Natasha gasped, her body ablaze as pleasure coursed through her veins.

You smiled as Natasha’s breath came in ragged moans. Her climax was rapidly approaching, made evident by the way her eyes fluttered shut and back arched against the bed. Without warning you slid two fingers into her. You shuddered as you felt her warm velvety walls clench around you. Carefully, you began to pump in and out of her. You took great care making sure that your fingers massaged her most sensitive area.

“I’m close, baby,” she gasped. You bucked your hand harder, your fingers curling in and out as she grew wetter by the second. She rolled her hips as you thrust into her as she searched for her release. The ache between her legs was almost unbearable as you ravaged her pussy. Before long Natasha came around your fingers, her walls spasming around your fingers as you continued to suck on her clit. A strangled scream erupted from her lips as her orgasm overtook her.

You slowed your thrusts as Natasha came down from her high. Her chest heaved as she struggled to control her breathing. Sweat beaded against her forehead, her body flushed with arousal. You released her clit with a soft pop, a strand of saliva still connecting the two of you. She had a blissed out look on her face as she sprawled back on her pillow. But you weren’t done with her yet. “Does that feel good, baby girl?” you cooed. She nodded enthusiastically. “Good.” You leaned up to kiss her as you began curling your fingers back into her.

Natasha groaned into your mouth as you began fucking her again so quickly after her first orgasm. Her body jolted as you curled your fingers against her g-spot, palming her clit with the heel of your hand. “You’re doing so good for me, Nat. You take my fingers so well.” She melted into you at your praise. Your words of affirmation opened her up, turning her on even more.

It wasn’t long before Natasha was cumming again. Her juices coated your hand as you continued to thrust into her. She clawed at your back, her nails digging into your shirt as you kept up a relenting pace. Your fingers sloshed around her soaked pussy. Her walls felt like heaven as they clenched around you, their grip making it hard for you to move. “Oh yes, daddy, right there. Just like that,” she whined as your fingers moved within her. Your forearm burned as you moved within her, sweat beading around your own forehead as your heart pounded in your chest. Natasha groaned as you buried yourself knuckle-deep inside her again and again, sparing no lengths to pleasure her. Her hands worked her way up to her shirt, pulling it up and exposing her bare breasts. The sight of the supple mounds, bouncing with your thrusts, caused you to drool in excitement. You lunged forward, eagerly taking one of her erect nipples in your mouth. You swirled it in your mouth, teasing the sensitive nub with your tongue. Natasha arched her back, thrusting her breasts into your face. They were hypnotic. You wanted to bury your face in them and stay there forever.

A cry from Natasha snapped you back to reality. The combination of your fingers in her pussy and tongue on her breast was too much for her. She threw her head back, her hands tugging at your shirt as her body started to spasm.

“F-fuck!” she screamed as you drew a third orgasm from over her. A gush of hot liquid shot out of her, coating your hand and soaking the blanket as she convulsed with pleasure. She’d never squirted before. The very act itself was overwhelmingly dirty, but you loved it. You loved being able to bring her so much pleasure that she lost all control of her body. She was struggling to catch her breath after having been pushed to the point of exhaustion.

“You did such a good job, baby girl,” you praised. You planted a kiss on her forehead, brushing a strand of hair that was plastered to her forehead away. She gazed back up at you, her eyes full of nothing but adoration. You cupped her face, thumbing her cheek as you lovingly gazed back down at her.

“I love you,” she whispered. She reached her hand up to cover the one you’d placed on her cheek.

“I love you too,” you whispered back. Natasha smiled up at you, grateful that you were so willing to take care of her like this. You felt nothing but love for her, only wanting to give her the best of yourself.

***************************************************************

Movie night was a common occurrence at the Compound. You and Natasha always sat next to each other, but she’d always stopped short of any sort of physical contact with you. There were murmurs amongst the team whether the two of you were actually dating. Some of them didn’t actually think that she was capable of such intimacy. But tonight was different. Something changed within her between your intimate moment earlier and the day and that evening.

When you sat down on the couch, you snuggled into your usual corner. Natasha usually snuggled into the corner on the other side of the couch. But as she walked to the couch, you noticed she wasn’t heading for the same corner she normally did. Much to your surprise she sat down right next to you, snuggling up to you the way she normally did when the two of you were alone in your room. You lifted your arm up in surprise, wrapping it around her shoulder as she wrapped her arms around your middle, clinging to you as she nestled her head into your chest.

“Ho-ly shit. Never thought I’d live to see the day,” Tony exclaimed as he entered the living room, a bottle of beer in his hand. You smirked as Natasha unwrapped one of her arms from you to flip Tony off.

Same old Nat, you thought to yourself, pulling your snuggly girlfriend tighter to you as you drowned out the noise from the rest of the team.

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melloween-candie · 8 months

Text

Spilled 'Paint' [C.G]

Cop! Carl x Painter Reader

Requested // Request Rules

"Ok…what about Cop!Carl x reader and maybe the reader is a painter and wants to paint cop!Carl in his uniform but also nude if that makes sense and it leads to…ykyk?"

Submitted by: @nikkicloudie

A/n - So Sorry for making you wait this long. 😭

Warning! Sexual content, cussing

Word Count: 1,299

[LEMON! 18+++]

Shameless Masterlist

Fandom Masterlists

/"Talking"//Thinking//Muttering-Whispering/

***Y/n's Pov***

"Y/nnn! Can we please be done with this now!" Carl pleaded as he tried to hold still. "We've been at this for HOURS now!" He whined.

"Stop whining and hold still!" I said as I used my hands to visualize the angles. "Art takes time Carl. Remember that-"

"Well- I don't have time..." Carl whined once again. "I have work at 6 in the morning!"

"THAT'S IT!" I jumped out of my seat in excitement. "All this time, I was questioning why I couldn't FEEL this art piece... Until now!" I said as I quickly rushed towards the closet where he kept all his uniforms.

"Quickly Carl! Wear this!" I said, handing him his Police Uniform.

"Wait- have you even drawn anything!?"

"Oh, shut it and just put it on," I said, brushing him off.

He rolled his eyes as he changed clothing. "There, happy now?" He was clearly annoyed.

"Not yet-" I replied. I couldn't help but smirk as I showed him the pose I wanted him to make.

He sighed. "So why are we doing this again?"

"Because Carl. I paint a lot of people and a lot of things for a living, but I have never drawn YOU before, and it just feels wrong to me, as an artist AND as your girlfriend, it just felt wrong."

He sighed once again. "Fine, let's just get this over with..."

Time Skip!~

I sighed- "No, no- this isn't right!" I muttered under my breath in frustration as I erased what I drew.

(In case y'all didn't know- Painters draw outlines before they paint)

"Great- what now?" Carl sighed as he moved into a more comfortable pose.

I pulled my neck collar due to the heat. If you didn't knew- it was currently summer and Carl's ac broke...

"Y/n, please tell me you're almost done." He whined. "I don't want to have to wear this all day; otherwise, I'ma have to wash it again..."

I took a moment to think... That's it!

My face started to form an evil smirk at him- "What's with the face?" He asked. I wasn't sure if he was sweating because he was nervous or because it was hot.

"You know what, Carl? You are right. It would be a shame if you had to rewash your uniform." My smirk grew bigger.

"Uhh- where are you going with this?" He questioned as I got closer.

I pulled on his vest, bringing him closer to me. "You'll see~"

He smirks.

I took his vest off and unbuttoned his shirt. Pulling it off him and throwing it on the ground somewhere. "You know... There's no limit to what art can be." I whispered in his ear as my hands roamed underneath his white shirt.

"I like the sound of that." He smirked as he let me continue to mess with him. I smirked, kissing his neck. I made sure to leave lots of visual hickeys. Then, while I was doing that, I was messing with his hair. And all he did was groan lowly, groping my hips as I 'made art' with him.

I got down on my knees and pushed his shirt up to reveal his growing abbs. I licked them, my tongue traveled up his torso as I pushed his shirt up. Then, when I finished- I took his shirt and threw it on the ground, leaving him topless.

I bite my lips, looking at him as I backed away. I made sure to look so seductively as I did so. To ensure that his eyes won't leave mine.

"Owe, don't tell me that was it,~" He said with that juicy voice of his.

I took off my shirt, revealing my boobs. Obviously, I was wearing a bar. Then I seductively pulled down my pants as I stared at his di*k.

I could already see it poking. He took a step towards me-

"Nope! Stay back~" I giggled as I sat back down and started drawing.

"Wait- was that it?" He asked. Sounding disappointed.

"Depends- If you hold still for me, maybe I might let you touch these bad boys later once I finish." I squeezed my tights when I said the last part. That clearly made him more erect.

Which was great cause that's what I was going for~

Time Skip!~

"Okay, baby~ I finally finished."

"Fuuuc* finally." He growled as he grabbed my hips.

"So do you want to see the painting first or do you want your rewar-" I couldn't even finish my sentence. He smashed his lips onto mine, picking me up in the process.

"Fu*k that painting-" he said in-between kisses. He pushed me against the wall, bumping into my paint stand in the process. My painting ended up on the floor; the painting faced forward, so it wasn't damaged.

But to be honest- I didn't even realize that happened after we finished.

As we made out, I placed my hands on his di*k eagerly. I unzipped his pants as he unclipped my bra, all without breaking our lip contact.

Then he pulled away, panting as he stared at my bare boobs. He groped as he stared into my eyes. I couldn't help but moan.

Then he started sucking my left nipp*e. I held onto his hair as I moaned his name. Then he switched to the other one. Doing the same thing he did- licking, sucking and biting.

As he played with my boobs, his free hand roamed down into my womanhood.

He unzipped my butte shorts. He didn't even waste a second to pull them down. And now he was staring at my last panties. I was completely soaked.

I placed my finger in my mouth as I moaned. "Carl~"

He smirked as he slowly pulled down my panties.

Fuuuck

Then he placed one finger into me. God, how it made my knees shake. He pumped slowly as he used his other hand to free his di*k.

He matched the same speed he used on my pussy to his di*k. Slowly jerking is both off... "Fuuu*k Carl, stop with the teasing!" I whined.

He smirked. "Say please."

I rolled my eyes out of frustration but did as he said.

And soon after, he had me up against the wall again. I wrapped my legs around his waist, and he wasted no time putting it in me- GOD, it felt Goood~

He didn't even bother going slow. He was pumping it in me, GoOd~ just the way I like it. And soon enough, we reached our climax. It was probably our best one yet.

I giggled. Standing up on my own two feet. I thought we were done, but apparently now-

"Now, where do you think you're going?" He asked seductively~

"Umm- to go wash up?" I said in-between breaths.

He laughed in a low husky voice. "Ow no- we ain't done yet." He said as he started walking towards me slowly. "I told you I didn't want to get my uniform, sweety, but no, you didn't listen- so now that it's dirty, we might as well continue?~" he smirked as he pinned me to the floor. Which at the time, I didn't realize I was right next to my painting...

This went on for HOURS. And when I said we made a mess- WE MADE A MESS.

"Fu-ha..ck. that-ha was the best one yet!" I said in between breaths. My hair was all messy and wet now... Sh*t, I couldn't even remember what time it was anymore. It was already pitched black outside... But that wasn't my problem- my problem was right beside me...

"Oh, Fu*k! Not the painting!" I whined, picking it up... It was now currently covered with cum-

"Carrrllll!"

#shameless #carl gallagher x female reader #female reader #carl gallagher #shameless carl gallagher #carl x reader #shameless fandom #shameless fanfic #smut #lemon #carl gallagher smut #fanfiction #fanfic

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petersbaby · 1 year

Text

Alright here we go

Soft!Billy x Harrington!reader

Warnings: smut, fingering, spanking but otherwise nothing too bad

A/N: Steve is a shit head in this story, and Billy is actually soft and sweet. Just the right amount of fluff, with a little extra at the end. reader and Billy having lil crushes on each other then having sex, basically. Reader goes to a different school so they never met before tonight. Reader is shy/emotional and clingy

The party was loud, you could hear the music, chatter, and footsteps all muffled but still very apparent. You sometimes hated having a brother as popular and extroverted as Steve Harrington because you were pretty much the opposite. With your parents never home, it was a party seemingly every weekend at times. The house was big, but not big enough to give you adequate space to get away from all the commotion.

This particular night, you were trying your best to get some work done for school. You did homework on Saturdays so that you could have a stress-free Sunday. As the night went on, you got more frustrated. Finally, you head downstairs to try to find Steve. You squeeze in between probably two dozen warm and sweaty bodies trying to maneuver your way around the different parts of the house. You finally find him outside, near the pool with some other people. Grabbing his arm, you pull him aside after smiling politely to his friends.

“When are you gonna wrap this up? I can’t hear myself think, and you’re stressing me out with this partying bullshit.”

“It’s only, like, 10pm. What are you, our grandma?” He replies sarcastically.

“I’m trying to concentrate on something.”

“Just join everyone, get a drink and calm down a little.” He suggests. “You could definitely use it.”

You sigh frustratedly, deciding that, fuck it, you may as well. You never even thought to participate in these things, it’s not your crowd and not your idea of a good weekend. You’d rather relax and do something productive like school work or something you enjoy like drawing.

You walk into the kitchen and open the fridge, grabbing a beer in a glass bottle. From across the kitchen, leaning against the wall and sipping on a beer himself, Billy saw you for the first time. Instantly, something shifted, something changed noticeably inside him.

You definitely wanted to be able to calm down a little more, and thought maybe this would help. Popping off the cap, you took a sip, you were expecting it to taste bad so you were prepared but couldn’t help the sour expression that came across your face. He had watched you as you took that first sip, smiling slightly at your reaction. Adorable, he thought. And so pretty. You were the prettiest girl he’d seen since getting to this town, even in loungewear, glasses, and hair tied up with no shoes on. You had socks, but didn’t think about shoes because it is your own house, after all.

You stood around for a minute, feeling completely invisible. These were not your friends. You headed back towards your room, opting to just retreat, but stopped to just sit for a little while. People-watching, you guess.

He was enamored, he needed to know you. But he lost you in the crowd somewhere as you slipped away from his field of vision. He knew you came from somewhere outside from when he first laid eyes on you, so he decided to look out there. stepping out of the back door into the cool night air. Still, it was Steve and a small group of friends talking.

“Hey, Harrington, who was that girl that was just out here?”

It takes Steve’s drunk mind a little while to process the question. “Uhhh”

Billy just stares at him.

“OH, Her.” The memory came back to his head. “That’s my sister. She was just being annoying.”

“I didn’t know you had a sister, where’s she been hiding all this time?”

“Probably in her room like a hermit or something. Being lame. Wait- why are you asking? Don’t try anything, I’m s-serious,” He slurred, poking a finger at Billy in the chest as if to warn him.

“Yeah?” Billy asks mockingly, knowing Steve couldn’t take him even sober.

“Yeah. Don’t try anything with her. You’re bad news.”

He rolls his eyes and heads back inside, leaving Steve behind. He starts to scan the rooms for you, much like you had done for your brother minutes earlier. He’s about to check the other entrance in the front, where you’d maybe be sitting outside or something, when his eyes fall on you on the staircase. You were sitting about halfway up it on a step by yourself, drinking and watching all the other people mingle.

His face lights up in a smile when he finds you, a smile so blindingly white and perfect that it drew your attention from the corner of your eye and your gaze lands on him immediately. You smile politely, contemplating just going back up to your room. This boy was pretty, gorgeous actually, but he was also intimidating. He was a known bully and certified asshole from what you’d heard. You weren’t sure what he wanted with you or why he was staring at you like he was.

You look down at your hands, unsure whether you should say something or not, and when you look back up, he’s sitting down next to you. A strong scent of cologne and leather was very evident in the air surrounding him.

“Hi.” You start, with a nervous smile.

“Hi, sweetheart. I’m Billy. Billy Hargrove.”

He reached out a hand, and you took it in yours to shake it. His fingers were big, rough and calloused. His palms were the same, except ever so slightly softer. Your hand looked as if it had disappeared inside his, the size difference enough to make you blush like a little kid.

“Are you really Harrington’s sister? You don’t seem like as much of an asshole as him, it’s kinda hard to believe.”

“Hey. Only I’m allowed to insult my brother.” You start. “But yeah, he’s kind of an asshole.” You laugh.

You continue to talk, starting with small talk and introductions and leading to a conversation that just naturally flowed and flourished.

“You know,” you eventually say, “it’s actually you who is said to be the asshole around here.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard that before. What do you think?”

“I think- you’re actually… not that bad.” You smile.

“Cmon, give me more credit than that. I’m nice! Say it.” He smiles back, joking around.

“Fine, Billy, you’re nice. You’ve been very nice to me, so far.”

He acts offended at the “so far” part, but it was true. You weren’t expecting this to be the way he actually was. The guy you’ve heard so many bad things about was being so sweet to you, you didn’t know what to think. It was almost like a switch flipped with you. When he saw your face, there was instantly and suddenly not a mean bone in his body.

“You want another?” He asks, gesturing down at your empty bottle sitting beside you and shaking his own to signify it was also gone.

“Sure.”

He returns to you with two beers, handing one to you. “So sitting on the stairs is your thing? Doesn’t seem like much fun.”

“I don’t really like people.” You shrug. He turns to you with a challenging look.

“Okay, fine, maybe you’re an exception. Maybe.” You warn, holding up a finger feigning seriousness.

“There ya go, good girl. Thank you. I’m flattered.” He says the last part sarcastically but not the first. Those certain two words had your stomach in knots and squirming uncomfortably on the spot you were sitting on. You look down again, fiddling with your fingers, trying to forget about it.

“What are you getting shy again for?” He chuckles, noticing your nervousness.

“I’m not.” You state firmly.

“Mhm.” He says, doubting.

He reaches over and grabs one of the hands you had fumbling with each other. He holds your hand so very gently, almost as if he was afraid to crush it. You look down at both of your hands and he rubs his thumb over yours, tracing mindlessly.

The way he was treating you had your heard completely melting, and you were wondering if this was the same guy that everyone else is talking about. Also thinking about the fact that you like him, a lot. His energy is still daunting, though, and you don’t really know what you can do.

You decide to chug the rest of your drink, hoping to calm your nerves that had briefly washed away but now returned since he found your touch. You weren’t very much of a drinker and you had barely eaten that day, meaning only two beers had you relatively tipsy. He noticed this, amused and only slightly buzzed.

“You fucked up already, pretty girl?”

“No,” you say blushing, “not fucked up. Just… relaxed.”

He noticed your shy demeanor dissipating and couldn’t help but be attracted to your energy.

“And you’re the pretty one.” You add.

He smiles at this, never having received that compliment before.

“Well thank you, sweet heart, but you’re definitely prettier.”

“You wanna come to my room?” You ask boldly, figuring it’s now or never. The truth was that you wanted to kiss him bad, wanted him to hold you tight. But you didn’t want to risk being seen with him either by Steve or one of his friends.

It was an automatic yes, he didn’t even need to answer you. He just stood up, offering a hand down to you and you take it, pulling yourself up. You head the rest of the way up to the stairs and turn right, letting him in your room and closing the door behind you.

He looks around at all of your things and decorations. It wasn’t a very girly room, not what he expected.

“Don’t look too much, I haven’t cleaned it in a while, it’s messy.” You rush out embarrassedly when you notice, getting self conscious about him seeing all your stuff.

He chuckles. “I’m not judging you, sweetheart.”

sweetheart, sweetheart, sweetheart. He kept saying it. Did it mean something or was this just something he called every girl? Why did you fall apart every time the word left his mouth? Why did the way the words fell off of his tongue light a fire inside you?

You started to clear off your bed, textbooks, notebooks, paper strayed across the comforter from when you were attempting to study earlier, setting it all on your desk and plopping down near the headboard. You decide to take your hair out of the messy bun it was in, as it was starting to give you a headache, and he watches with anticipation as your hair fell around your face and over your shoulders with a slight waviness to it. You slipped the hair tie onto your wrist and sat for a moment.

“You know you’re fuckin’ beautiful, right?” He asks.

You kind of wanted to crawl under your covers and hide, not knowing what to do with all of his sweet words.

“I mean it.” He reaffirms, reaching to tuck your hair behind your ear and afterwards letting his fingertips linger for a second on the skin of your soft cheek. The way he was staring as if you were the most invigorating thing he’d ever seen was unbearable and your body was heating up all over so you decided to lean in.

Pressing your lips against his, you relish the moment briefly but pull away to gauge his reaction, to see if you moved way too fast. Apparently not, because he returns his lips to yours, moving closer to you and eventually climbing on top of you where he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss. His tongue was in your mouth in an instant, fighting against yours and winning. You loved the feeling, the way this kiss felt so absolutely vulgar and pornographic.

You reach down to unbutton his shirt which was not fully buttoned in the first place and pulled it off his shoulders along with the leather jacket. His figure was breathtaking, you’d never seen a body like his. You kept getting distracted by his abs and biceps, the tiniest bit of sweat beading up on his chest.

He must’ve noticed you staring, and smiles at you knowingly. You weren’t embarrassed, couldn’t possibly be. It was a sight to behold. You reach for the bottom of your own t-shirt, starting to pull it up over your head so it would be even, but he stops you before it gets past your chest.

“You sure you’re not drunk? If you are, we really shouldn’t do this.” He warns.

“I’m sure. Promise.” You breathe out, continuing your undressing. You truly weren’t, just high on what you think may be adrenaline from this rapidly unfolding romance. Once your shirt is off, he reaches behind your body to expertly unclasp your bra and then marvels at the beauty of your bare top half.

“Jesus Christ.” He groans, taking one of your tits in his large hand and kneading it while returning to kiss you again. You whimper at the feeling of him groping your chest and repeatedly rubbing his calloused thumb over your hardened nipples. You’re swapping heavy and hot breaths, the air around you starting to feel thick with warmth and desire. Hovering over you, he presses himself up against you as you spread your legs greedily for him.

The hard thickness of his cock pressed against your core, four barriers of clothing between the two of you.

“Fuck, I need it, feels so big” you whisper through shallow breaths. He reaches down in response and pulls your sweatpants off your body, his hand coming to cup your pussy over your little blue thong panties which left little to the imagination. You threw your head back at the contact, and it seemed like he did too.

“God damn, so wet.” He comments the obvious. “Mhm” you mumble desperately, quickly nodding your head in confirmation that it was all for him and he couldn’t take it any longer. He pulls the fabric aside, away from your pussy, entering a thick middle finger right away. The sound of your wetness at the point of contact filled the air. You pant, lazily attempting to keep eye contact with him but failing to when he adds his index finger too.

“Mmh” you moan, eyebrows furrowed in pleasure.

He started out normal, maybe even gentle, but soaking in your reactions gave him confidence to go faster, harder. He fucks his fingers in and out of you while his eyes scan your naked body, taking in the sight. You reach to pull his head down to you, kissing his lips in attempt to keep your noises under control, but he soon starts the curl his fingers deep inside you and the breath catches in your throat.

You fall away from the kiss, struggling to maintain it, lazily meeting his lips with yours when you could. Your whimpering and moaning got so frequent that he assumed you were close, and he was right, as you soon gush around his fingers when they curl for the last time. Instead of little noises, it was a huge high pitched moan that came out in response to the overwhelming pleasure of your orgasm and he smiled cockily as he listened to you. He pulls away his fingers, wiping them off on his jeans before unbuckling his belt.

“Turn over for me, sweetheart.” He instructs you.

You can only assume he means he wants you on your hands and knees, so that’s the position you assume. So when he finishes getting his pants and boxers down and looks back at you to find your ass arched up in the air, he groans. He delivers a harsh smack to your ass and you whine in response, relishing in the sting of it.

“You like that?”

You nod your head, unsure if he was expecting an answer or not.

Another smack, this one to the other ass cheek.

“I asked you a question.”

“Mhm, yes Billy I like it.” You managed to get out. He smiles, satisfied, from behind you.

You want to be patient, to take whatever he gives you, but it’s incredibly hard to do when you can feel the tip of his dick barely pressing against your entrance. Every part of you want to push back, to sink down on it all at once, but you don’t. It’s worth the wait as he finally enters, pushing to about halfway with his nails digging into your hips. He stays this way for a little too long, and you whine out, trying to let him know you want it all.

When he finally moves more, he goes for it completely, bottoming out with the tip hitting a spot deep inside. Your face fell forward into the mattress which helped muffle your loud sounds while he fucked you. His hands keep a firm grip on your ass for leverage and he fucks you harder. Having watched you take it all, he was confident in your abilities. He filled you up so perfect and every thrust felt like it took the breath out of your lungs. His hand moves to your lower back, pushing down on it with a flat palm to ensure your back is arched as far as it can be.

“Fucking Christ, so fucking sexy.” He mumbles to himself, barely loud enough for to hear but you did and you loved the praise.

You rest your weight on one arm, reaching in between your legs to touch yourself in order to speed up the journey to your next orgasm. Before long you were cumming again, just around his dick this time. It was intense and blinding, something you have never felt before. Nothing has ever even come close to the orgasms given to you by Billy fucking Hargrove. The way your pussy clenched and practically sucked him in when you reached your peak made him stutter, faltering in his movements.

His thrusts became lazy and sloppy as he continues, abruptly pulling out and cumming all over your back, going from the top of your ass, up your spine and even to your shoulder blades. He pulls out and you lower down onto the mattress, now laying on your stomach. You can sense that he’s panicking, unsure of what he should do to help you, you tell him to just use the t shirt you were wearing before. It wasn’t nice by any means so you didn’t mind it being used as a cum rag.

He cleans you off the best he can and pulled his jeans back up, closing them and starting to search for your clothes in the floor. He finds your panties first, then your pants, handing them to you and you slipped them on. You look around on the bed and find your discarded bra and put that back on too before standing up to go to your closet to throw a new shirt on.

You come back to your bed, sitting down on the edge and going back to your nervous habit of messing with your fingers.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, when he notices you go quiet.

“Oh, um, nothing.” You force a smile.

“Come on, tell me.” He persists, sitting down next to you.

“It’s just- I know this was a one time, random thing but I wish it wasn’t. I like you. And I know that’s crazy to say since we just met but I have this feeling I can’t shake. I’m gonna miss you.” Your eyes tear up and you feel like the biggest idiot in the world, immediately wiping them before even the slightest watering could be noticed.

“You don’t have to miss me. We’ll see each other again, okay?” He tries to comfort you, not fully knowing exactly what to do in an emotional situation.

“When?”

“Uhh… tomorrow work for you? We’ll go on a date. Ice cream?”

“Really?”

“Why are you so surprised? I like you too. I don’t know the word for the feeling but I have it too. You’re something special.”

#billy hargrove #billy hargove smut #billy hargove x reader #billy hargove imagine #billy hargrove fic #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove x harrington reader #billy hargrove x female reader

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ducktracy · 3 months

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hi, i really love your art :) i was just wondering if you have any tips on how i could try and improve with drawing characters too? that and, well, spongebob-style backgrounds. because u do those really well :)

one of my biggest pieces of advice for getting a character down is probably the piece of advice nobody wants to hear. myself included! but, it is just a fact that the more you draw said character, the more you’ll get accustomed to that! repetition is key! that might even mean drawing them when you don’t feel like it. but you do begin to develop a feel for the character the more you get acquainted with them, and your muscle memory begins to kick in

definitely speaking a bit from experience here with the SpongeBob characters HAHA. there was a period starting out where i really felt hopeless and did not think i’d ever adopt to the SpongeBob House Style; my own style kept sneaking in through ways i never noticed and it caused me a lot of personal heartache and frustration. but, heartaches or no heartaches, i still had a deadline to meet! and that’s really helped me a lot. 3 years of drawing these guys 40 hours a week has allowed me to improve in ways i never thought i would. it does become muscle memory, you do get more used to the quirks of the characters, you do get more accustomed to their needs, but that does cone from putting in the work to do it. and that work is largely repetition based.

BUT! for some more actively productive advice—doing studies of characters has helped me IMMENSELY! this is something i’ve done for both my personal and professional art. if you’re drawing fanart of a character, maybe take some time to scope out some screenshots and drawings of the character that speak to you the most. how do you want the character to look? do you want to do a 1-to-1 homage? pull different aspects of their designs into your own personal amalgamation?

i really can’t stress how helpful studies are, but you do have to be a bit diligent about them! your goal is to transcribe the drawing/screenshot as you see it exactly. not what you think it looks like or how you would draw it—the objective is to essentially copy it as accurately as you can. then, when you’re done, it helps to do a comparison of your drawing overtop the source! see what you got right and what could maybe use tweaking. it’s likewise important to take your TIME with this. really absorb what you’re drawing. think about the construction, what shapes the character is made up, how their features interact with one another. the absorption is the most important part—otherwise, you’ll just become really good at copying.

on SpongeBob, we’d take these studies one step further—you do your initial study, take notes on what needs to be tweaked, then do that study again. THEN, after that, hide the layers with the source material/previous study so you’re purely drawing it from memory. you’ll have 3 studies that way. it can be a pain and sometimes even a heartbreaker (i remember wincing many times when comparing my 3rd study to the screenshot HAHA), but you DO get better. it really does help, and the addition of the repetition likewise clinches this

another thing that really is invaluable to me is GET TO KNOW THE CHARACTER! know who you’re drawing! study up on their mannerisms and personality, how they conduct themselves or bounce off of other people. maintaining the integrity and BELIEVABILITY of the character is always one of my utmost priorities in any of my art. really get acquainted with who you’re drawing. do they have a bombastic personality? a reserved one? how would they act in this situation? should their gestures and body language be big, all consuming? matching their equally big demeanor? are their poses a bit more closed off to match their reservations? really think about the motivation of the character.

AS FOR SB STYLE BACKGROUNDS… it’s sort of hard to formally express just in text, unfortunately i don’t have the availability to sketch something out right now :’) BUT! one of my favorite pieces of advice i’ve gotten working on the show is “there are no rulers in Bikini Bottom”. so, there are no perfectly parallel, 90° lines! lots of line weight and curves and waves, if only subtly!

like my advice above, i would maybe just recommend studying any backgrounds you see that look interesting! but i will say, as someone who ends up drawing Bikini Bottom houses more than i usually think i do (which, fun fact if you didn’t know this, are engine mufflers!), i usually think of those as soda cups with scoliosis HAHA. i think of the topmost chimneys like a straw, you have the little ridge that goes around the top, which is the lid… and then the body! likewise, no two houses are exactly the same. there are variations to the ways the chimneys or houses may curve or jut out.. so have fun and experiment!

I’M SORRY I DON’T HAVE MORE TO OFFER WITH THAT CURRENTLY, if possible i’ll try to follow up later on! but a lot of it is indeed down to studying. same with drawing characters!! i’m very flattered you would reach out to me and ask this—thank you for reading!!

#long post #anonymous #asks

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tokoyamisstuff · 3 months

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Breaking Bonds Ch. 2

Glossu Rabban "The Beast" Harkonnen x F! Reader

Chapter Summary: Now alone with Rabban, your wedding night is imminent. Warnings: Nudity, angst, graphic descriptions of violence, blood, prostitution, murder, sadism... A/N: Sorry for the long exposition. Also this was written on my phone and not proofread, so...

Caution: Dead Dove - Do Not Eat. ⚠️

[Chapter 1]

The whole ceremony was as rushed as it was appaling, with all the guests having disappeared as soon as the essential part was completed.

It was done, just like that.

You had never been a naive romantic, yet you had always pictured the day of your wedding as a pleasant one.

At least they were pleased, from the looks of it.

No further words were exchanged between anyone, and neither were you forced to the obligatory kiss...

...though you were unsure whether you should be grateful for that fact, since it would only drag out the inevitable.

Almost unbearable silence encoated the newly-wedded on their way towards Rabban's chambers - your new home, theoretically.

He was a person that could make the ground rumble with every step, every single person you encountered in the hallways ducking down in fear of becoming the next victim to his inpredictable, urging wrath.

It felt hard to just breathe around him, so you remained a few steps behind and made yourself as small and quiet as humanly possible.

As you passed a corner you finally spotted a window, unconsciously coming to a halt as you saw the toxic industrial wasteland appear on the other side.

So this was supposed to be your home from now on. Deprived of any nature and encoated in darkness.

In all honestly, your life from now on seemed not much more different than that of a prisoner.

"Hurry up" a scolding growl startled you out of your trance, and when you didn't react soon enough you immediately felt a violent grip on your wrist as well.

You yelped in pain, yet all of your whines and pleas fell on deaf ears as he dragged you until you reached your destination. Even the slaves watched the scenario with pitying expressions, only able to speculate what terrors their master would unleash on his wife.

The Beast ruggedly shoved you inside so you almost tripped over, before slamming the door shut and letting out an earthshattering roar.

You on the other hand could only helplessly watch his fit of rage, shuffling as far back from him as humanly possible to not be caught into it.

It had always been like this. He needed to let this frustration out - preferably through violence - otherwise it felt like he'd burst from the inside.

Glossu Rabban Harkonnen held many names, countless nightmarish tales were told about his horrendrous war crimes. Many of them you had witnessed yourself.

One thing was certain: That person right here, was more animal than man, merely conditioned to behave remotely human.

And the very man that loved to torment your people for his own twisted enjoyment was now the one whose fate was uncorrigible intertwined with yours.

What did you do to deserve this?

Glossu Rabban did not even hesitate to strangle his own father to death over a minor disaggreement, you recalled as tears once again crept into your eyes...

Since right now you felt that no matter what you'd say or do, you'll draw his fury eventually. It was only a matter of time until he'd completely and utterly destroy you...

...not tonight, however.

When the Beast approached you after having more or less collected himself, you could only do so much as stare at him like a deer in the headlights, prepared for the worst.

"Show me." Rabban was not a man of many words, if it could be avoided. So he would roll up your sleeve without so much as an explanation, making you gasp.

"Ah, shit" he cursed under his breath, revealing a dark purple lesion where he had gripped you earlier.

He was ordered to keep you more or less intact - at least on the outside. If you were in any form to be harmed, made infertile or even killed, it'd instantly annule the alliance.

"Only bruise her where she can cover it" Rabban remembers his uncle's advice. He did not understand back then.

The nature of this marriage was an open secret, as well as his...tendencies. So why the need to go out of his way for a nobody like you?

"Our custom demands you to act accordingly, at least in public it needs to appear harmonical. Other than that, manhandle her as you please. Just don't overdo it - her killing herself wouldn't make a good impression either."

"You'll wear long sleeves until this healed. Understood?" You nod obedient as he lets you go, frantically rubbing the sore skin.

Rabban then tossed his leathern ceremonial robe in a corner before letting himself down on an armchair. What appeared to be booze was already conveniently in reach, and he downed the bottle in one go.

For what felt like an eternity you just stood there, unsure what to do next as your husband would completely disregard your presence.

Nonetheless, you knew what was expected from a married couple on their wedding-night...

Rabban raised a suspecting eyebrow as you started fondling with the ribbons of your dress, until the gown fell to the floor and left you completely bare.

His eyes lit up for a sheer moment - a dangerous gleam flashing in them as he almost indifferent took in your silhouette.

What a time to be self-conscious, but at the same time completely understandable. You felt pathetic, humiliated - and yet nothing compared to worry of the outcome, shall you not play your part.

The more time passed without as much as a sound or move of his, the more nervous you became. For some reason, his lack of reaction was even more concerning than if he'd just get it done with.

"Am I not to your liking, my Count?"

As soon as the words left your lips, you already regretted them - the tone was too forced and not at all welcoming.

For whatever reason your question irritated him - yet not immune to the effects of your body, eagerly clutching his half-erection through his pants. Out of a whim he jumped up from his spot, firm steps leading towards you.

Shit, even the prisoners in the slave mines could hide their fear and disgust better.

"Do you hate me?" he starts to interrogate, and you panic. "Speak freely."

What kind of question was that? A trick?

"I know that look on your face well enough..." he continues, and before you realized he had you by the throat, just enough to be unsettling without doing actual harm.

A hint of glee was present on his face as he pressed you against a wall, his knee keeping your legs apart.

"You killed many of my kin" you wrung out anxiously, legs kicking in the air. "My own father as well."

"Fair enough" he almost snarled at you with that crooked scoff of his.

Oh, how amusing was the thought of tainting the precious, innocent daughter of that rebellious fool.

Sad your father didn't live to see the day - what a wasted opportunity.

"Have you ever laid with a man before?" he then whispered, his breath on your ear making you shudder.

You gave everything inside you to remain stoic but were unable to shriek at the way his eyes darkened with lust, his face only inches from yours.

"N-no."

Rabban let out an aggravated sigh at the answer. Usually he'd be thrilled - the untouched are the most delightful to break, after all.

But as dull as he could be he was a strategist, and aware of his flaws. He was sadistic even for Harkonnen standarts and holding back wasn't exactly his forte.

"Get dressed" he spat as his hand suddenly recoiled, making you thump to the floor.

"B-but-"

"Believe me" he interrupted your objection, towering over your cowering form. "It's better if we postpone this."

Yes indeed - while he had mastered the art of holding back if necessary, right now he was still in an agitated state.

You shrink away from him, grabbing his robe to cover yourself. "But the Bene Gesserit-"

"...have waited for millenia" he finished your sentence. "They'll be patient."

"I-I was told intimacy was something pleasant" you admit sheepishly, nervously fondling with the fabric in your hands. "How could you possibly harm me?"

So innocent, and all his. He'd be your first and only, his little toy - the thought excited him.

"You don't want to know how many answers that question has."

Without further comment at this horrid statement, you get to your feet again, a bit lightheaded from today's events.

Eventually Rabban has to support your body to keep you from falling, before you'd bruise even more. He'd never hear the end of it.

And still, he gives into the temptation, pressing your body against his. You bite back on a scream as he pressed you against his body, roam the sides of your body, fingers lingering on your curves before squeezing painfully.

A throaty groan escaped his mouth at the sensation of your tender skin against his rough hands...

...and then it dawned on him:

"I need to leave" he suddenly urges, body almost shaking with a dire, destructive need.

You stand in the middle of the room as your husband practically feed your presence, leaving both of you to deal with that turmoil of emotions alone.

Indeed he has go somewhere, anywhere - just away from you before he did something unspeakable.

While he rushed away his mind was already flooded with sadistic fantasies, oh - how he'd make you squirm and beg and lick the tears from your battered face.

It was an aching someone with a sane mind could never understand.

He stops in his tracks, stands still in the middle of the path and for a sheer second he contemplates of turning around and just give in to his desires.

But no - this time it wasn't only his uncle to punish him. The Bene Gesserit see too much, and your unison was blessed by the emperor himself.

Fuck, the consequences he'd rather avoid.

If only you knew how lucky you were, pretty little harlot.

Frustration and anger were boiling even hotter than usually inside of his guts, his veins and nerves feeling shooting lighting acros his body in addition.

It was his default state of being, to be honest - and somehow you made it even worse.

Rabban certainly knew how to level himself, years of experience and his uncle's teachings helping him control his bloodlust to a certain extent.

He doesn't know yet what or who he's looking for to rage himself out, but when he finds it, he'll know.

Rabban enters the nearest brothel, settling for the first whore he can find that looks remotely like you.

That poor girl's suffering would be short yet agonizing, abruptly ended by the mercy of death.

All the atrocities he wanted to unleash on you he does to her, thinking only of you while he drives into her violently.

The Beast slits her throat as he fills her up, eyes rolling back into his head as her pleas turn into the sound of gurgling on her own blood.

He thought of you as he watches her bleed out, as her blood seeps into his clothes, drying on the skin of his hands. Imagining you beneath him, wonders what kind of sounds you'd make in her stead, what you'd look like when life leaves your eyes.

Yeah, that's more like it.

The satisfaction is feeble however, and when he gets down from his brief high it is instantly replaced by an all too familiar emptiness.

You pretend to be asleep when your husband returns, but he wasn't fooled that easily.

Rabban wouldn't even care to clean himself as he slipped under the cushions with you - no, you should know what he's capable of.

He reeked of blood and sex, the scent burning into your mind and making you sick to the core.

Feeling his eyes on your back you clutched the sheets, knees pulled to your chest and bury yourself under the blanket, wishing to disappear.

Your quiet sobs were like music in his ears, lulling him to a proper rest for the first time in ages - he could get used to this, was his last thought as he drifted into sleep satisfied.

Ironically, you one the other hand would have a dreamless night at last...

...because what nightmares are left to have when the real monster is lurking right besides you?

[Next Chapter]

#dune #dune 2 #beast rabban #glossu rabban harkonnen #beast rabban/reader #glossu rabban harkonnen/reader #self insert #marysue #writing #fanfiction

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safehousebooze · 1 year

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(if you're still doing requests) can you draw more mi2 era ethan i love him in your style

This turned into a whole study session, added some Nyahs ✨

I asked people to send me sketch requsts at the end of 2021 and this is the last one! :D

My original goal was to draw quick sketches without getting lost in details, spending WAY too much time, redrawing it over and over again and getting frustrated in the end. Just accepting the limitations of my skills at that moment and move on, to do better next time. Well, I did not achieve that, but that's alright xD I did draw a lot more last year then I would have otherwise, so thank you for all your ideas <3

#mission impossible #mission impossible 2 #ethan hunt #nyah nordoff-hall #Ethan x Nyah #sketch request #tcmiv

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comicaurora · 2 years

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I didn't realize levels of context and such was something I wanted to think/talk on until I read today's page so I decided I might tap you about it if it's alright. Basically, I didn't realize how much I missed everyone Not Being Under Active Pressure until this page. It felt as though something's been made right with the world seeing Erin 0 concealment or hesitation taking notes about Dainix, and what really struck me and got my wheels turning was how this perfectly normal behavior hits so different off the heels of all the weight and pressure and such that Erin and everyone else has been under than it otherwise would hit. Obviously the framing of the page has something to do with the effect I described, but this page feels unique in its requiring context to feel the full scope of the impact.

However, that thought then bounced off a thing that happened where a contextless scene hit me like a truck and demanded I write it despite me having nothing else to apply it to, and I still read it back and need no context to prove to myself that it is a very solid and effective scene in spite of it being like. Five lines and two stage directions. This sort of thing happens with me on occasion where I have isolated moments, single loaded scenes that seem as though they come from context, and yet the context not only doesn't exist but doesn't really need to exist, yet the way it's structured, you think there would surely be grander story context around the scene.

(Sorry I seem to keep giving you walls of contextualizing [ha] before actually getting to the question part) What I wanted to ask you was: What are your thoughts on the relationship between story context and individual scenes/moments in a narrative? The sort of ins and outs of a scene as itself and a scene as part of a story, and a story as a whole and a story as a chain of scenes that give one another context.

This is a fun question, because the need for context to make moments hit was initially something that really frustrated me.

Like many people, my storycrafting started with a big pile of out of context Yo That Would Be So Cool moments - sweet one-liners, fight scenes, big flashy powerups. And I liked the Big Moments from the shows I watched, and wanted to know what made them hit so hard so I could replicate that emotional punch. Was it the kickin' theme music? The determined monologue? The speed lines? The yelling??

And I came to the frustrating conclusion that it was all the slow, often boring setup that had come before the big moment.

The sudden reveal of a superpowered evil side means nothing if we don't know what that character is supposed to act like. A character drawing motivation from a dead loved one tells us nothing if we don't ourselves know and love the person they lost. A jaded, powerful warrior will seem generic if we don't know the fun-loving child they spent two whole seasons being. A character backed into a desperate corner will reveal untapped wells of heroism we can't appreciate if we don't realize how rare this is for them. Powerful moments are in some way carried by what happens in them, but in a much larger way are carried by the contrast between them and the story that preceded them. Stripped of context, all the moments I loved - all the TVTropes "Crowning Moments of Awesome" - were either mindlessly flashy or oddly underwhelming.

In order to make the moment hit, even if the moment was so much more fun and interesting than anything else, the writer had to write all the buildup and pace it out enough that it stuck with the audience, and the audience had to experience that buildup. It just wasn't possible to write a story that was one amazing thing after another without the amazing things losing more and more impact.

We're all on tumblr here, so I'm sure we've all experienced That One Person We Follow getting into some new media property we don't know about. They post mini-essays about why That One Bit With Character A And Character B Was So Powerful, gifsets of two people standing in a dark room captioned with "they were in love here 😍" and extremely well-made fanart of people you don't recognize in vaguely saint-like poses, sometimes captioned with something you think cannot possibly be relevant. This is fine, because you're not the target audience for that fan content. That's for people who already know what the fanart is about - it's essentially referential art that doesn't stand on its own to an outside audience.

But I want people to watch and enjoy the things I watch and enjoy so I have people to talk about those things with. And that means I have spent long hours trying to figure out how to explain to a skeptical audience why a story I liked was so good, and what made the awesome moments work. This is a huge part of the impetus behind Trope Talks, and why the in-depth examples I use always have context as a preamble. Without the context, the moment doesn't work.

If you think a gutpunch is just the moment the fist connects, you're disregarding the windup that actually makes it hit.

#asks #aurora #behind the curtain

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