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#everything was exactly as i envisioned
prudentfolly · 4 months
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Day 22: Music
Don't interrupt this part or she has to start the song over.
I imagine this is Gerry's POV, lounging on the blankets and pillows on the floor. They've been playing their favorite songs for each other, drinking coffee while a blizzard presses curious digits against the windows.
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araneitela · 3 days
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I live for when these unexpected little things happen. Okay, so I forget to loop the song I had picked to listen to on Youtube, and it ends up auto-playing to a live performance of a song. So I peek over, and I see the outfit that she's wearing. High-waist trousers, and that shirt, mostly tucked in as it is, with its sleeves rolled up just like that? It's a bit of that old-school romantic aesthetic, it exudes a certain old-fashioned femininity, it's quite timeless in its simplicity, and classy despite a rather relaxed fit. This is something that I see Kafka wearing during her downtime, and especially within the comforts of the Stellaron Hunter HQ/complex, and exactly in that color-scheme as well: darker in the legs, lighter in the upper body. It's simple, there might be the ever-enduring presence of that single earring (pearl), a thin bracelet at most but even that I'm hesitant about, and while she'd be void of any sort of necklace, you could smell the fragrance of that signature Black Opium as always.
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re: kim dokja smoochies tag
yes he was totally kinda drunk at a bar age 25
a man but only because he had long hair and very pretty eyes and kim dokja thought this was Heterosexual until after the kiss (rando guy said he had a cute nose <3)
let's just say when he first runs into hsy's guy avatar he can't help but be reminded and he tries his best to ignore the whole bisexuality thing that he was happily putting away on a shelf through being a slave to capitalism
This ask made my DAYYY thank you SO MUCH for the bonus info 🥰🥰🥰 Point three is making me giggle and twirl my hair :))) Everyone go gaze upon this wondrous art rn that's an ORDER
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linguenuvolose · 5 months
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I do a lot of translation in my job and I've started enjoying it so much more since I started letting myself be a bit more free in my translations. Communicating the message and the vibe is more important than the phrase structure or wording being exactly the same.
#it also improves the quality of the texts because they actually make sense#sometimes these Italians love to put 40000 words that mean nothing and the same thing in a sentence and it's like#girl we don't have to do all that#in the sense that Italian and Swedish text conventions are different and what sounds fine in Italian risks sounding v formal in Swedish#also sometimes I sit there with an Italian origin text that I first have to edit and it's like do I not understand what this says because#1. my Italian isn't good enough in this field#2. this is a complicated field#3. these people don't know how to write#and sometimes when I'm done editing the Italian text and go to do the translation I'm like oh I have no idea what they're trying to say#and think to myself hmm maybe I should've done more editing but oh well eccoci qua#I mean this is like translation 101 but I have done exactly one very bad translation course 5 years ago#that made me go I never want to do this for a job#but my increased freedom now is just I don't care as much about it being exactly the way my boss envisioned#like everything we publish has to go by him first which puts a certain pressure on the text#so when I first arrived at this job I was like uuh the Swedish has to be as similar as possible#but now I'm like man it's more important that it sounds Swedish and not Italian than it being exactly the same#and my boss also doesn't speak Swedish in any case so what does he know#snicksnack#comunque sì queste le riflessioni della serata#domani ho preso il giorno libero perché i miei colleghi mi hanno un po' rotto er cazzo sinceramente so :))
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🔥unpopular charles opinion
The thing is, it’s not an opinion, really. The question isn’t meant to be a complaint or a rebuttal or anything. I just genuinely don’t get it! The question goes something like this.
So Charles/Klinger seems to be the one actively disliked ship in the fandom, discounting the h*nn*hawk vs p*erc*ntyre gang war and that one rabidly anti-hawnk person (lol). Most nobody has any love for the ship, because it’s stupid and OOC, of course, but mostly because it’s egregiously obviously racist and gross, which is the critique that seems most common, and to be of most importance to people.
And to be clear, for the purposes of this post I am wholly agreeing with all that! It’s distasteful and immoral and people who are into it are insane, including me. I’m not arguing against this line of thinking, I just wanted to look at its inner logic. Because when I first heard people saying this, I thought, “Yeah, makes sense, Charles is truthfully a terrible person with abhorrent opinions. Nobody watching this already unfortunately bigotry-riddled show is obligated to try and look past that! It is Always valid to hate Charles’ guts.”
But it turns out most of the fandom (I assume it must be most, given how shockingly few people here have blocked me) actually don’t hate Charles, in general. It’s the specific ship, not the character, that’s distasteful. (Not to say any Charles ship is anything resembling popular, but like with most ships, that’s just a result of the general population’s Hawkeye BJ Laser Focus Gaze. I’ve never seen anybody actively dislike these ships when they’re brought up.) And the more I think about it, the more I wonder why, because well. to put it bluntly. It’s not like someone stops being racist when they’re not actively interacting with a nonwhite person.
You know what I mean? I feel like Charles’ bigotry would be a turn off for all of our generally morally sound protagonists, not just one who happens to be personally affected by it. But it only becomes an issue when it involves Klinger. I’ve heard people say that any Charles/Klinger ship fic would obviously have to go out of its way to address Charles’ racism, but I’ve read a few Charles/Hawkeye and Charles/Donna (and Charles / other strange and varied choices too, because of course I have) fics–really, REALLY good fics, that captured the characters very nicely and are very beautifully written–and I’ve yet to find one that discusses The Bigotry In The Room with any degree of seriousness.
(Pssst this is everyone’s chance to absolutely dunk on me by sending me fics that do this if there actually are a bunch and I’ve just never read them because I would in fact LOVE to read some fics with that topic regardless of ship!)
And to be clear, that’s fine with me! I truly do not care. When I read Charles running away to Maine or romancing Ms. Parker and I don’t see his love interests stop to ask “Hey, um, so any updates on the fact that you and your whole family are eugenicists?”, it doesn’t bother me in the slightest, because I just assume that Charles has already gone through the cult deprogramming step of his character development at some point prior to this, and either the love interest in question has already confirmed this off-page, or they are making the same assumption I am. After all, at least in Hawkeye’s case, the mere act of admitting romantic interest in a Democrat from the back of beyond would necessarily imply a shift in values, right?
(Admittedly, for all we canonically know Donna could be a fashy scumlord herself, so this reasoning doesn’t wholly apply there, but it obviously does to her fanon background/personality.) (Which is adorable, by the way. Everyone go check out the collective oeuvre of AO3 user onekisstotakewithme.)
So that’s all cool! It’s just that the same thing applies for me when it comes to Charles/Klinger. If anything, it applies even more, because you can have a fic where Charles’ whole family attend his and Donna’s 2nd wedding (Everyone go check out the collective oeuvre of AO3 user onekisstotakewithme!!!) but if Charles gets with Maxwell in any capacity, his father is at the very LEAST never going to speak to him again, ever. And personally I think that is SO fun and sexy, because Charles’ father is a white supremacist and I want him to die painfully forever and ever amen. <3
I got sidetracked a few times here and I just realized I never actually asked the question, which is, TL;DR: If it’s immoral–or at least gross and nonsensical–to ship Charles/Klinger, because Charles is bigoted, shouldn’t the same also apply to shipping Charles with many other characters too, given that they should logically also have a problem with his bigotry?
For what it’s worth, I have a bit of a theory about the answer to this, all to do with the incompetent way Charles’ bigotry (and other characters’ reactions to it) are portrayed in canon and the deeper Doylist factors that I think forced the showrunners into writing it like that, but I wanted to stay strictly on the topic of fandom attitudes for now, because it may be niche and silly, but I find it interesting. And I’d love to hear other people’s thoughts on it!
#Did this sound rude? Was I totally incoherent? Is everyone mad at me now? All these questions & more swirling around in my brain right now#It seems like such an obvious thing I feel stupid even bringing it up because there must just be some huge thing I'm missing#but I can't figure out what it is!#There was so much more I wanted to bring up here as I said but I had to Stop haha#like sometime I also want to do a post on how most people seem to envision Charles fitting back into his family and his old life very well#and I always picture the exact opposite! Not just from a ''what I would want to have happen'' POV but also just#what I think would complete his arc in a satisfying way and build on the things that happened to him in canon#not saying he's gong to go home and become a commie immediately (ah! if only!) and I think he WOULD try DESPERATELY#to have everything be exactly the same. but I just don't think it would work!#like Margaret and unlike BJ or Hawkeye his pre-war life was not built on healthy sustainable or even ethical foundations#and that life is going to collapse in on him!#but ghdsjkgdsj STOP I will make a separate post later. enough controversy for today I'm sleepy#(but I also do SOOO want to make a post examining the insane inconsistencies in how the protags treat Charles and his bigotry cause it's#SIMPLY RIDIC#)#Hawkeye when he wants to have a little bonding moment with Charles:#I can excuse racism but I draw the line at failing to flirt with a 6'4'' millionaire. A girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do!#and the thing is Maxwell also does this. but of course THAT isn't ok. wheezing.#Charles: god I fucking HATE [checks the list of protected minorities to find an ethnic group that's not on there] uhhh MEDITERRANEANS#Max who is used to long odds and is already mentally rehearsing his teary ''But officer! My husband was in that house!'' speech:#haha yeah ok Major. I think we are soulmates btw :)#THIS POST IS A DISASTER. APOLOGIES TO EVERYONE AND HAVE A NICE DAY.#Charles Emerson Winchester III#MASH#Starky loves answering questions#marley-manson#CHARMAX#Starky's Original Posts
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susielesbianism · 2 years
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I Have Been Working On A Piece Of Deltarune Fanart For Weeks Now :))))
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pikslasrce · 2 years
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ok i watched the 1st episode of wwdits and ohmygod
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i saw a spoiler for Purple Hearts on tiktok and respectfully i don’t think i’ll be watching it because it looks like it’s gonna make me upset over Rebel and Coyote
spoiler in the tags
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imwritesometimes · 8 months
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I read 1 (one) fic for the niche blorbos cause there's literally only 1 (one) I was even remotely interested in and it was so well done and the characters were captured so perfectly I second guess my own writing efforts every time I work on my own wip like... this will never be as good as the 1 (one) I read
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dutybcrne · 9 months
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@strdstd from here:
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            ・⊱  “Ah, good. I’d almost feared I’d be left to my own devices with such power in my hands.”
            A jest wrapped in a silken tone to cover up the flash of vulnerability he’d shown the other, the habit instinctively rearing its head, sure as always, whenever he felt anxious. Which was to say, it was no wonder it had long since practically become second nature. Especially considering the person beside him now.
             The rightful heir to Khaenri’ah, compared to the flimsy claim as mere regent he possessed. The man hurt by his own hand, far too often to forgive.
            Still, the fact that he was allowed to take the reins of the people who had been lucky enough to remain after their purification was an honor he could not deny. And one Kaeya had not planned to give up so easily if the other didn’t care for it as much as his birthright would otherwise. To think he had once been so content to rest in the shadow of another, one who shined twice as bright as he ever would. Yet, truly…it was not in assisting another that he would find himself in now, rather, more so like in those moments he had in taking over from Jean, in having his own leadership be at the helm. Where he could directly put to action his ideas to assist others without worrying about having to go through another. Where he himself could listen and take care of those looking to him, and busy himself with dedicating every moment he could to them. He didn’t mind the burden of responsibility, rather looked forward to it as much as he could now.
            That was his raison d'être, was it not? To dedicate himself to a cause, to his people, wholeheartedly. Truly, it must be a life befitting and honoring that of his lineage.
            “We of the Alberich Clan should lead lives as those who blaze like fire, rather than those who wallow in the embers.”
            Like this, he could truly make a change, and one that would last even beyond him. There was truly no greater honor than serving the people. Was that not why he’d made his choices? Why he’d chosen to throw himself away for the sake of the very people he lead now?
            Ha…ahh, but to think it wasn’t even his doing that lead them to be here. No, it was not his efforts, rather the Traveler and the Abyssal Prince who did. The two who truly helped save them all and even himself from Celestia’s horrid curse, those who yet retained their physical bodies while those whose forms had crumbled away were allowed to pass on. Meanwhile he, the one who turned his back in his own home for pretty promises and desperate hope he could set things right and be the one to help them, as his father had wished, was the one who got to be with the people of Khaenri’ah and guide them now. His choices meant nothing in the end, save to cause naught but pain other than a scarce few to help, and yet he got an arguably easier life than he ought to have now. It was downright laughable.
            It was wholly undeserved.
            After everything, how could he be the one to stand at their helm? His dedication aside, it felt wrong to. Would have felt far worse, had Dainsleif’s words not ease the guilt festering in his gut. Dainsleif, the very one he just might have hurt the most in all of this. And what of the others too? How was he to make things right? Surely they wouldn’t want to see him after all was said and done. Speaking with Jean alone had made clear how much he’d hurt them, been enough to break whatever was left whole of his heart. It seemed all he could do now was remain here, in his self-imposed exile, living like a damn king while those he hurt by his choices moved on. But…perhaps it was for the best. Until they themselves felt it necessary to let him back in. The thought stung, but was deserved all the same.
            Just as any suspicion Dainsleif had of him now would be. He wouldn’t dare hope his silver tongue would have any effect on him to ease things over, nor would he attempt to. No, he had enough trying to lie and beguile his way out of his consequences. Thus,
            “I am wholly unworthy, but…honored still to accept. I pledge to do my very best for them in your stead. Though… I dare hope I may be able to count upon your counsel whenever you stop by, should you wish to offer it.”
            His tongue flicked out to wet his lip, gaze averting briefly before settling back upon the other.
            “And if there is anything I may do for you in turn, Twilight Sword, you need only ask. Gods know what I owe you, after everything,” what he himself had done, what Dainsleif had given and did in his stead, what he was giving him now, “is naught but insurmountable.” That…that wasn’t how he meant to say it at all—
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notmyneighbor · 1 month
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Let Me In ~ Doppelgänger Francis Mosses/The Milkman x Female Reader
Chapter 1
Word Count ~1k
Rating ~ Explicit
CW ~ blood and gore, character death, eventual smut(not in this chapter)
Excerpt ~ You know it’s not Francis peering at you through the glass window.
You know it, even though he looks exactly like him, every feature carefully duplicated: the sleep deprived smudges on the frail skin underneath his eyes, the narrow chin and a long nose, that unblemished complexion as smooth and pale as the milk he delivers.
They’re getting better at the replication.
It’s getting harder and harder to tell them apart from real humans now.
Also available on AO3
Fanart used with permission @kaworinx on Instagram and TikTok
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You know it’s not Francis peering at you through the glass window.
You know it, even though he looks exactly like him, every feature carefully duplicated: the sleep deprived smudges on the frail skin underneath his eyes, the narrow chin and long nose, that unblemished complexion as smooth and pale as the milk he delivers. They’re getting better at the replication. It’s getting harder and harder to tell them apart from real humans now.
Yet there’s still something off. Something in the way the flesh sits on his bones. Almost a shift, like a mirage in the desert: a shimmery, not quite real haze that’s there and gone again in the blink of an eye. He lays his fingers against the glass, splayed directly across from your face. The pretender’s lips curve into a smile. “Let me in,” he says, and it’s identical to the real milkman’s voice, that same sleepy, gentle tone you’re used to hearing day in and day out, and your heart lurches. When had it happened? When had he been taken? During a delivery? Lured into some back alley? Some devious doppelgänger asking for help, maybe, and of course he’d obliged, he was kind like that, he’d never refuse anyone. You envision the wire rack cradling the bottles of dairy product dropping from nerveless fingers, the glass shattering. White mixing with the bright red blood that leaks out of him all over the pavement.
You wince at the gruesome image. Poor, trusting, foolish man.
“Let me in,” he says again, and the words drag at something deep inside of you. A glint of something feral in the dark eyes now. This imposter knows you can sense his deception. “I know what you need. I can give it to you…”
Another chord strummed on the string of your spine, vibrating along your body. Had he taken over Francis’ thoughts? Sorting through the milkman’s memories like digging through a box of old photographs, perhaps. Choosing which ones to keep and which ones to discard. Had the unfortunate third floor resident known about your hopeless crush? He must have. How else would this creature target your desires so readily? The knowledge of this wounds you. Francis had known, and he hadn’t acted on that knowledge. No return of your feelings. Maybe he’d just been shy.
Or maybe he just didn’t feel the same way.
“You must be so tired, working so hard. You deserve to rest. Collect a reward.” His tongue darts out to moisten his lips and this is the first foreign gesture that completely confirms your suspicions: this is not Mr. Mosses.
Everything you need is right in front of you. The entryway door is still securely locked. The rotary phone is mere inches away. You can call in the team at any time now. Save everyone. Except for Francis, of course; it was too late for him.
“Sweetheart, please let me in.” Attracting flies with honey. His voice dripping affection. His fingertips blanch against the glass. The brim of his cap slides further down his brow. A single track of perspiration leaks down his cheek. The body still fighting, even now. Resisting. Rejecting the invader. But it was too little, too late.
“I can’t let you in.”
His head snaps up and the eyes are bloodshot, spidery lines of crimson streaking across the white orbs. A thin trail of saliva drips from one corner of his mouth. “Can’t, or won’t?” Straight to vinegar now. Acidic tone. It lashes against you. You’re shaking.
“I know what you are,” you declare in a whisper.
The replicant raises his free hand, fingers curling into a fist before striking the pane. It rattles in its casing and you gasp. You’d always thought the material was shatterproof. “You don’t know anything. How can you? You run unchallenged for a small fraction of years and you think you know all there is to in the universe. Such arrogant, fragile things you are,” he murmurs, and the sudden calm unnerves you even more than the rage.
You begin to reach for the receiver and his fingers slide down the glass, squeaking as they go. “Wait. Don’t do that.”
You pause, hand still outstretched. “I don’t have a choice.”
“You do have a choice. You don’t have to be one of the mindless sheep.” His nostrils flare, inhaling deeply. “Francis loved that fragrance you wear. He liked so many things about you. You’ll never know how much if you make that call.”
You suck in a sharp breath. Was it true? Or just a ruse to get you to spare him? “He’s gone. There’s no getting him back now.” Your voice warbles, your fingers trembling as you reach again. Making contact with the ebony plastic this time.
“He’s right here. You could have him. All you have to do is let me in.”
You lift the receiver from the handset cradle. The spiral cord connecting the two sways like a tightrope beneath an acrobat walking its length. You feel like that performer. Teetering on the edge between life and death. Yours. The people in the building. You have a duty to protect them.
The uniformed man’s eyes slide closed. Dark lashes light as moth’s wings kissing his cheeks. He’s humming softly. A melody you’d heard every time Francis had left for his route. The tune unfamiliar. But it’s his. Had always been unique to him. Why hadn’t you asked what song it was? Why hadn’t you…
The handset drops back down and the dial tone is silenced. His eyes reopen. “Let me in, love.” The softest, sweetest smile. You reach for the buzzer. Staring at your hand as if you don’t recognize it as your own. “I’ll give you everything you want, sweet girl.” Nearly to the button now. “There you go. Just a little more.” Contact. The light flashes and the magnetic locks release, granting the doppelgänger access.
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beardedjoel · 4 months
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pretty little wife | sorry, baby
joel miller x f!reader one shot collection
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series masterlist | main masterlist | ao3 | ✨kofi ✨ summary: 4k words. Joel is stressed and busy with a big project at work lately. His pretty little wife makes it all better. warnings: 18+ MDNI! no apocalypse au, pre-established relationship/dynamic, sub/dom relationship, free use kink, oral sex (m receiving), cock worship (!! yes), unprotected piv, rough sex, dirty talk, pet names for reader, sir kink making a reappearance, bit of fluff mixed in, mention of food/eating, @ GOD WHY ISNT THIS ME a/n: I'M BACK. these two sick lovebirds are back 😭 i needed something sweet to write while working on smother so here's some cute domestic sucking and fucking from my favorite couple MWAH reminder i have no taglist anymore, follow @beardedjoel-updates to hear about my new fics!
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Gonna be late again. Sorry baby.
Joel’s hurried text had pinged your phone a few hours ago, and you reassured him it was no problem, of course. You know that his company is contracting on a huge project in downtown Austin right now, and it required a lot of Joel’s attention. He’d been giving so much you were surprised that he had anything left in the tank when he came home to you. But by god, so many nights he sure did, coming home in a frenzy to fuck you, taste you, finding you where you were when he arrived home - cleaning up dishes from dinner, the shower, already curled up in bed with a book on one particularly late night.
You relished in him releasing everything into you - the stress of his day instantly melting with a simple touch of his lips to yours, drinking in your curves and soft skin with rough hands and frenzied yet controlled movements. It always seemed like the more stressed he was, the more he couldn’t get his cock in you fast enough, the more relentless he was in the ways he took care of you. He’d leave you spent, dripping, and aching, letting you talk softly about your day as he stroked your hair afterwards, all sweetness and hushed tones until you two fell asleep.
You peer into the living room from the kitchen to see Joel walking in, looking generally askew and you frown. When his shoes are yanked off and placed in the closet he looks up to see you leaning on the doorframe, lips full and pouting, finger sticking up with a patch of cookie dough stuck to it to taste test. You stand in a long, threadbare t-shirt of his and pink cotton panties, just what Joel had set out for you this morning, and he makes sure to thank his past self for such a wise choice this morning. You’d laughed at the lack of bra or any kind of pants, knowing it was no accident you’d ended up dressed without any bottoms on today. You aim to please, and the look Joel gives you whenever he sees you exactly how he envisioned you for the day always makes your heart soar a little higher. 
He finds his way to the couch, sprawling out and giving you an exhausted look. You stick the errant finger into your mouth, sucking the sweet, sugary cookie dough off and licking your lips. Joel’s expression changes quickly, his interest clearly sparked, but the wearisome look doesn’t leave his eyes. 
“Baby?” you ask, your brows furrowing further with worry. This wasn’t your husband, this wasn’t Joel, and you always hate to see him have a tough day. It makes your heart ache when he works too hard, gives too much of himself and winds up burnt out. You certainly don’t mind making it all better for him, that’s what you’re here for, after all, but it pains you nonetheless.
“C’mon over here, little wife,” Joel murmurs, running a hand down his weary face. When he pulls it away, he gazes at you with heavy lids before propping his hands behind his head. 
You saunter over to him, standing next to where he lays and reaching down to graze your fingers over his stretched bicep, trailing it inwards towards his face. He hums, fluttering his eyes closed for a brief moment and enjoying the way your gentle fingers work across his cheekbones and through his beard. 
His hand slowly moves from behind his head to curve around your waist, drawing you nearer, the front of your knees hitting the side of the couch cushions now. His silent signals are obvious to you at this point, so you don’t waste a moment swinging your leg around his body, tucking it in between his thigh and the back of the couch, settling in to straddle him. A hand runs gently down his chest as you tilt your head, studying his face in concern. 
“What’s my husband need from me?” you ask quietly, letting your other hand bury itself in his curls, scratching at his scalp. 
Joel lets out a pleasured groan, nearly shuddering at the feeling. “Fuck, baby.” You feel his body shift underneath you, already squirming with the sensation of your fingers doing their work on him. “Make me feel good.” 
“Let’s get you more comfortable, then,” you coo, fingers already moving on the buttons of his shirt, making quick work of the top few to let his chest breathe a little bit. You take only a beat to admire the top of his chest poking out, curls of hair sticking out wild and messy before getting to work. You slither down his body, giving yourself enough room to undo his belt before pulling it out of its loops and tossing it aside. 
“Lift, please,” you say, keeping up your gentle, soothing tone as Joel’s hips lift off the couch and allow you the space to pull down his dress pants, wriggling them down to his ankles and then over his feet. “Now that’s better, isn’t it?”
“Mmm,” Joel answers, a pleasant little hum from the back of his throat. You can feel how your ministrations have already gotten him hard as it brushes against your center when you settle back on top of his hips. A brief tease of your hips swirling on his sends Joel’s twitching, a sly little smile flashing on his lips. But you’re gone an instant later, moving down the couch and settling next to his feet, sitting crossed legged to face them before taking one into your lap. 
“What’s this, now?” Joel asks, a slight tiredness to his voice now. 
“Ever heard of a foot rub?” you reply with a lifted brow. He chuckles and you watch his body rumble with the sound. 
“Givin’ me mouth today, are we?” he asks playfully, the tired laughter still fading off as he speaks. 
“I could,” you retort, pursing your lips and looking up from his feet to find his eyes peeking open, looking down at your delicate, innocuous smile with a plethora of hidden meaning behind it. 
“Such a dirty girl…” he murmurs, neatly cut off by the groan he lets out when you press in on one of his arches with your thumb.
“See? I know what you need, baby,” you coo, working your fingers into the tender spots on his foot, being sure to use just the right amount of pressure. You prop his foot in your lap, letting it hang there as you gently rotate his ankle, loosening everything up. 
“Christ,” he breathes out as you start on the other foot. His breathing is a little labored, pain and pleasure mixing together as you continue to help his weary soles. You work each foot until he sighs contentedly, a good sign that your work is finished. 
At least on his feet, that is. You run your hands teasingly up his thighs, settling them on his hips as you work your way back up his body, hips straddling his again. You lean down and brush your lips against his neck, peering up to watch Joel’s eyes flutter shut as he sighs again. The sound is music to your ears, anytime your husband makes that content, soft little sound you think you’ve reached heaven. You suck and flick little patches all over his neck, starting a slow, steady grind of your hips. 
“Oh, pretty girl,” Joel starts, landing a firm hand along your hip. “I can’t today… I’m so fuckin’ beat. You know I’d give anything to fuck my cock into you…” He murmurs the words with a hint of frustration. You know this is hitting Joel harder than he’s letting on, seeing as his singularly focused task most days is to find a way to get himself inside of you.
“Who said anything about you fucking me?” you ask slyly, hands hooking into the sides of his briefs. You watch as Joel’s eyes pop open and look at you mischievously. “You said to make you feel good, so that’s what I’m doing, my darling.” You keep your tone even and calming as you continue with your teasing, deft fingers playing under his waistband. 
Joel’s smirk grows and he reaches a hand up to gently pet the back of your head before pulling you to his face, kissing you deeply. “Good girl,” he says as he pulls away, the words falling right onto your own lips. “Doin’ as you’re told.”
You slink lower, getting to the spot you know excites him the most, straddling lower on his legs to bring your mouth down to his clothed cock. You plant small kisses along the obvious bulge and Joel reacts immediately with a small hiss through his teeth. You kiss and lick and suck, letting the fabric tamp enough of the pleasure to drive him crazy. 
“God damn it…” he grunts quietly, hips shifting as they spasm up towards your mouth when you suck another spot on the fabric, taking your sweet time, only a small form of torture for Joel. “You tryna make me ask you to pull my cock out and get your pretty mouth on it? Cause you know, once I’m not dead on m’feet I might have to punish you ‘f that’s the case.” His words tumble out slow and thick with his accent - that Southern drawl always comes out more when he’s tired and mumbling.
Your mouth curls deviously and you lick your lips. “Wouldn’t dream of it,” you reply in a low lilt. 
“Mhm…” Joel teases, but you heed his warning anyhow, tugging his briefs down to free his cock, nearly enraged as it throbs and drips precum from the way you’d already been working on it. Your tongue finds the salty fluid at his head, lapping it with just the tip of your tongue and swirling it around. You start to practically nuzzle it, catching his cock in the corners of your lips, letting your tongue get a few tiny kitten licks on his shaft as you rub it along your cheeks. The smooth skin glides along your face and you start to get messier with it, letting his cock start to spread his precum and your saliva along your cheeks as you let the flat of your tongue run along it.
Joel lets out a loud, long groan, fingers gripping deep into the couch cushion. He can barely contain himself as your tongue licks a thick stripe up underneath his length, tracing the most prominent vein. His hips stutter forward as he gives himself to the moment. 
“God damn, honey…” he whimpers quietly, eyes shutting in the bliss of the moment.
Your hands rub his thighs gently, kneading into them as you start to bob your head on his cock, taking a little more each time until he’s at the back of your throat. You fight the urge to gag, a little noise coming out of you, sending Joel’s hand flying to the back of your head, his gaze watching the way his cock disappears inside of your warm mouth.
“That’s it, choke on it like I like, pretty girl…” Joel mumbles, eyes rolling back a little as his cock fills your mouth. “My pretty wife…” he whispers with a reverence and respect, despite the degrading way he’s about to fuck your mouth.
You move with a little more urgency, your mouth stuffed and aching already, one hand coming up to grip the base of Joel’s cock and stroking there while your mouth works on him. Joel’s hand pushes down on your head, sending you a little further and you sputter, spit flying all around his cock and lap but it doesn’t deter you. His hips start to move of their own accord into you, matching the rhythm of your mouth pumping on him. Your body gets hot and desperate for him, your praise loving nature alight just by seeing how much he loves the way you pleasure him. Your thighs wriggle as your cunt aches and drips now, begging you for relief that you know will have to wait.
“God, fuck,” he cries out, “Needed this…” Joel seems to be practically revived, a new energy filling his weary body as he grunts and pants, his cock sliding in and out of your mouth in faster strokes now. You can sense how close he is, you know your husband’s body like the back of your hand now, his balls tightening and cock getting even harder on your tongue.
He grunts with the effort of sitting forward, yanking your head off of his cock and swiftly sliding his hands to your waist, hauling your entire body upwards so that your hips are above his. 
“Need this needy little cunt, look how soaked you are,” Joel coos with a genuine pity for you as he sees the wet stain on your panties.. His fingers tear your underwear to the side, giving enough room for his cock to position itself at your weeping entrance, giving you no time to even process it before he forces your hips to bear down on him.
You cry out in a long, wanting moan as he fills you up, the stretch of him burning in that familiar way that you love and crave so much. Joel is an addiction - your husband the one thing in life you could never get enough of, never filling you enough, never fucking you full and deep enough times that you’re fulfilled. He never fails to leave you satisfied, of course, but you’re always wanting more in the next moment, practically wishing you could live just like this - his cock stuffing you and stretching your pussy to its limits, sending that pain you live for deep inside of you until it turns to the most blinding pleasure. Gratitude overtakes you as you sink down completely, whispering out a fervent thank you as you feel yourself clench around him, eyes shut and head thrown back. Joel reaches to your chin, pulling your head to look down at him. 
“What was that?” he asks teasingly, rutting his hips up into your as he speaks. You shudder again, pussy clenching around him as you feel his length pressing against your walls.
“T-thank you,” you breathe out. “Thank you, sir…” You’re unable to say anything else, only look at him with half-lidded eyes and cry out wantonly when he pushes all the way in again, seating himself inside of you only to lift your hips up and do it all over again.
“Yeah… knew bein’ stuffed full of my cock would make you my polite girl again,” Joel says arrogantly, sending a fresh wave of arousal right between your legs, gushing around his girth. You nod, blinking down at him, rolling your hips and chasing your pleasure. You lean down a little closer to Joel, bringing your chest more flush with his, the change in angle devastating the both of you. 
“So fuckin’ full of me,” Joel whispers in your ear, taking it upon himself to bend his legs and start fucking up into you. You moan in his ear, tears springing to your eyes as you feel him close to your cervix, each deep thrust sinfully delicious and bordering on painful in the way that makes your skin tingle in the best way. You want to be used, you want him as deep as he can possibly go, to feel you entirely wrapped around him.
Joel grunts, hot breath fanning next to your ear as he holds you close. Your bodies are intermingling with sweat now, your ass slapping down onto his thighs reverberating through the quiet living room. It’s just this - the two of you, your shared breath, your intertwined bodies, nothing else matters or even registers to you now. Joel’s hips shift the slightest bit in angle and you cry out, your g-spot now overstimulated with attention as Joel’s cock pounds into you harder, brushing the spongy spot with each new movement into you.
You pant, clutching onto him and digging your manicured nails into his shoulder, scratching them along to his neck where you hang on for dear life.
“Fuck…” you murmur, feeling your body tensing, legs like jello as they shake on either side of Joel’s thighs. “Let me come, p-please, sir,” you whimper, holding back with every ounce of strength you have as the tingling warmth spreads, heat in your belly threatening to burst at any second.
“Hang on f’me, baby, fuck, n-not yet,” Joel replies in a huff, clearly close to that high himself. “Wanna fill you up right when you’re comin’ so pretty f’me.”
You bite your lip hard enough to draw blood, holding back as your body screams at you with need. This wasn’t the first time Joel had you hold back your climax, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last, but it never got any easier. You whimper, nearing a sob as Joel thrusts into you, your hips rolling and stuttering into his movements. “Please… sir…” you cry.
Joel grunts out a stern no and continues to slam his hips into yours, growing harsher by the second. You’re a whimpering wreck, your body nearly about to betray you as Joel hits your g-spot again. Tears leak from your eyes with the psychological effort of holding back, but you know it’ll be worth it. It always is.
“Now,” Joel says simply, “Come for me, little doll,” he adds, finishing the sentence with a grunt as you start to lose control, feeling like a dam inside of you is bursting, all the pleasure rolling over you in dazzling waves. You flutter around Joel’s cock almost as hard as you ever have, squeezing his length as he lets out a small whimper himself. Your breathy moans right in his ear send goosebumps along his whole body despite how stifling the air is surrounding you two.
“Fuck…” he moans, his hips jerking a few times before he starts to spill himself into you. You continue to shake, pulling every last drop from him as you ride out your own high, Joel’s name rolling off your tongue as you moan.
“God, yeah…” you whimper out, finally collapsing onto Joel’s chest as his legs go limp underneath you. You both lay in silence, chests heaving and small smiles on your faces. Joel strokes the back of your head and your smile grows. Neither of you seem set on moving, the combination of both of your climaxes a slick mess between the two of you as you settle into a more steady rhythm of breathing.
“Mmm…” Joel mumbles out the noise. “How’s my pretty little wife today, hm?” he asks quietly, fingers tracing down your cheeks to your lips.
“You’re late to ask,” you tease him with a laugh, typically hearing that question before anything else when he gets home. He uses his free hand to squeeze your ass cheek in warning at your bratiness and you grin. “But better now,” you answer in the familiar response to your favorite question from him.
“Thought so,” Joel says wryly, giving you ass a lazy pat before kissing the side of your head. He’s quiet for a few moments before lifting your hips off of his, your body immediately missing the sweet fullness of him as you both sit up. Joel brings your legs over his and you rest your head on his shoulder, feeling like the most natural fit in the world. 
“‘M sorry about all this, baby - all the late nights and bein’ stressed and probably bein’ a grouch,” Joel says, his voice laden with guilt. He circles on your bare thigh with his fingers and you shudder a little, snuggling further into him. One of your hands wraps around his cheek, turning his head to meet your eye line and you give him a soft smile.
“You think you just now started being a grouch?” you joke, knowing you’re pushing your limits on how much bratiness Joel will tolerate in one day before things escalate.
He growls deep in his throat and you giggle softly, scratching your fingers through his hair. “Thin ice, baby…” he murmurs.
“I love my grumpy husband,” you say sweetly, fingers moving down to run through his rough beard. “It’s okay though, Joel. Promise. I just miss you, but this busy and crazy time will pass like it always does, right? In the mean time...” you lower your voice, a finger trailing from his cheek to his neck and down his chest. “We can just do that anytime you need it.” 
Joel chuckles, giving your entire body a squeeze against him. “That’s my good girl. Always ready f’me.” You smile into his chest at his praise before he continues. “We’ll do somethin’ this weekend, the two of us an’ spend some time together, mkay? Make up for all this bullshit.”
You feel your heart squeeze inside your chest and your stomach flutter a little at the idea. Joel has typically been pretty good about planning dates over the years, but you know that it’s been hard with his extra workload lately, so you’ve been missing the romantic evenings he’d plan for you two. You’d tried to ask about planning one yourself, and Joel shut you down immediately in the sweetest way possible, claiming the responsibility fully for himself to do that for you.
“Ooh, yes please,” you reply excitedly, hugging him close.  
“‘S a date then,” Joel confirms, leaning his head back onto the couch while you stay resting on his shoulder. You both fall into a comfortable quiet again, Joel’s breathing steadying as he dozes off. 
“Do you want a cookie?” you ask into the silence, sitting up. Joel’s eyes creak open from where he’d been resting them and he glances down at you with furrowed brows. 
“That s’posed to be some kind of euphemism, darlin’?” he asks groggily. You laugh, throwing your head back a little and shuffling yourself to sit up on the edge of the couch. 
“Could be,” you giggle, “Real cookies this time, though. You can even sneak one before dinner.” 
Joel perks up a little, eyes opening a bit more. “Chocolate chip?” he asks, a boyish glint in his gaze. 
“Of course,” you nod, and Joel smiles tiredly, sitting up to join you on the edge of the couch. 
“You know you’re the best wife?” Joel says, nudging you with his shoulder and leaning over for a quick peck on your cheek before standing up and pulling his pants back on. He moans and groans while he twists his back and stretches his arms over his head for a few moments, and you know his knees must be flaring up as they do when he’s more stressed.
“Just one,” you warn Joel as you see him making his way to the kitchen trying to look like some kind of master sleuther on the hunt for fresh baked cookies. “I’m making dinner soon.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Joel tosses over his shoulder at you before disappearing around the corner. When you make your way to the kitchen, you watch him take a bite off of a cookie from the cooling rack and you stand with crossed arms, admiring him. His eyes look you up and down with a similar appreciation, landing between your legs where he sees your underwear completely soaked and stained from your recent rendezvous. He smirks as he chews, stepping towards you. 
“An’ don’t you dare think about changing your underwear,” he says in a low rumble, eyes flicking all over your face as he gets close to read if you’re going to keep up your bratty streak today. Instead, you give him a docile little upturn of your lips - he’s been through enough today - and brush past him to start working on dinner. 
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
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writingouthere · 4 months
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neighbor!Sukuna x singlemom!reader. In the aftermath of your apartment flooding, Sukuna makes you a deal that is too good to pass up. You don't fully know what you're agreeing to, but if you did would it have really changed anything? Reader POV
cw: Sukuna may seem like just a nice guy stepping up but really he's a red flag you're just too tired to see. It's hinted reader has not been treated well in the past but no specifics.
You hadn't known what to do when you woke up to the sound of rushing water. You had acted on instinct and grabbed your daughter from the room next to yours and stood in the kitchen, calling your landlord from the number on your lease to no avail. Your daughter was starting to get fussy and after the fourth attempt with no answer, you felt lost.
Your ex hadn't exactly been the reliable type and he probably would have just contributed by cursing and complaining about shitty landlords and even shittier affordable housing but that wouldn't have helped then and thinking about it wasn't helping you now. Single, alone with your daughter who was growing more disgruntled by the minute.
You hated to even consider but, there was someone who you kept coming back to that you thought could help.
Sukuna.
The tattooed man across the hallway hadn't struck you as the friendly type, but he had proved you wrong in the few months since you moved in. He looked like the type of guy you would cross the street to avoid, but he always had time to stop and talk to you when he saw you. He also always made it a point to say hello to your daughter and listen to her rambles, even when they didn't make sense to you.
Your other neighbors had warned you about him. Stories that included threats and assaults you just couldn't connect to the man who had taken you and your daughter to the aquarium when your piece of shit ex bailed on you both, again.
You had googled him afterwards and what you saw was pages and pages that included things like attempted, suspected and scarier words like murder, hospitalized and other things that just didn't fit with the man you were still getting to know.
The water was still falling and once your daughter started waking up, you called it and went over to the maybe scary man across the hall, who never scared you.
Within ten minutes, you found yourself in Sukuna's guest room while he stayed behind at your apartment to figure everything out. When was the last time someone told you, "I got it." You were always the responsible one. You were the mom friend, the girlfriend people liked to introduce to their parents. You had basically parented yourself!
But now, there was someone who told you that, "I got it."
So who could blame you for going along with what came next. When the next morning came and Sukuna told you that your super had come too late and the apartment was damage and you couldn't stop yourself from putting your head in your hands as your daughter happily munched on the pancakes he had made you both.
"What am I going to do," you groaned and you couldn't help but lean in when Sukuna placed his hand on your cheek.
"He said he would put you up in a hotel until it can be fixed," he said gently and you sighed. You envisioned the next several months in some shitty motel with no kitchen, sharing a lumpy bed with your two year-old, disrupting the routines you had been trying so hard to build as a single mom. No more afternoon trips to the park that was less than a block away. No more feeding the ducks with your leftover veggies or sharing pick up duties with the other moms at the daycare by your work.
"This sucks, I don't want to have to build my life all over again." And you really didn't. This was so frustrating and over what, a little water damage?
"Well," Sukuna started and he tilted your head so you were looking at him. "I do have the guest room. You could move some of your stuff over here and camp out until it's fixed. Pocket the hotel money, use it for something for the kid."
"Oh, I couldn't impose on you like that-"
"I wouldn't offer if it was an imposition," he said, his eyes glinting and for just a second you could see a little of the danger your neighbors had told you about, but then it was gone and he was leaning over you to take another pancake from the serving tray and putting it on your daughter's empty plate.
"It's not just for you, I would-I would feel a lot better knowing the both of you were taken care of. I doubt the hotel that-" he cut off looking over at your daughter, "you know is putting you up in is going to be the safest place for the two of you."
You couldn't believe you were considering it but you were so tired. You felt like life had just become a series of less than ideal circumstances you were forced to deal with just because you didn't want to settle for the wrong guy or give your daughter less than she deserved.
"I would pay rent," you said and he looked ready to argue but you held up your hand. He smiled, amused and gestured go on. "Just until they can fix the apartment and if we get to be too much tell me. We can tough it out in a hotel. We've dealt with worse," you added and he frowned before nodding.
"Deal." He turned to look at your daughter and smiled. "You hear that bug, you and mommy are moving in." Your daughter giggled and clapped her syrup covered hands.
"Temporarily," you reminded him and he smiled at you.
"Right, let's go grab the stuff you'll need while you're here temporarily." He went grabbed a towel and wiped your daughters hands while she kept laughing and chanting "move in, move in!"
Is it your fault that you didn't know that your circumstances were anything but temporary?
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tia-222 · 5 months
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My void sucess story
HII TIA!!! I can barely contain my excitement as I type this but I got into the void and manifesting my dream life. You @gorgeouslypink and @charmedreincarnation are my absolutely favorite blogs, and I couldn’t have done it without y’all. I think charm and pink are on break so I’m gonna send this to you I hope that’s okay.
Quick backstory: I’ve been in this community since the OGs, angel, Cleo, maya etc. I’ve seen all the dumb drama, the liars, the successful people, the exposing, and etc. I’m just sharing this because people think having bad experiences can hinder you from getting your desires and I’m here to remind you nope that it can’t. Nothing can. I had a phase where I would ugly cry trying to make sure all the success stories are true….I became a cop and started looking for inconsistencies on pages and liars to help me feel better. Which it didnt, It drove me mad, and I lost faith.
Until… I read pink’s doubt post which was God sent. Her entire page is God sent tbh and I recommend it to everyone. After I felt better and realized outside of tumblr people have gotten into the void, I decided I’m gonna be the next success story. So I went on your lovely page because I don’t think there isn’t a method you haven’t talked about.
You’re so educated and conduct amazing research on everything, we truly don’t deserve you Tia. Thank you for all your hard work. Anyways I was feeling good! I had so many methods to choose from, I felt like a fat kid at a candy store. And I decided my logical brain needed a logical method so I went with lucid dreaming.
This is where charm comes in. I read her lucid dreaming guide and it is literally also God sent so thank you so much for that. She had a method I had never heard of called SSILD, and even made a post about that as well… like I felt like the universe was handing me everything on a silver platter. And I saw another post that her and pink talked about using a reclining chair. So I combined SSILD with that method to make an ultimate one. And on the second day of trying I entered a lucid dream, asked a dream character to take me to the void and then manifested my dream life.
What I manifested: my dream house, dream family, dream body and face, dream amount of money, money always coming to my family and I’s bank account out of nowhere (but it’s natural and normal ) socialite Status, 25k insta followers (my lucky number) famous loyal dream athletics boyfriend (I was so scared this wouldn’t work but it did!), master manifesting abilities, dream college acceptance, (future) good self concept, a great fashion taste, never gaining weight, clear glass skin, revising my abusive past, and so much more. My list was like a whole ass essay, I obviously can’t list everything but my life is perfect now.
This was last week and I immediately booked a trip to LA with my family to look at the USC campus because that’s where I want to go and where I will go next fall, (I’m a senior). I was also looking at apartments around my school and I found my dream one so I’m manifesting no one leases it 🤭
Quick note: a lot of my desires were weird or I wanted them to manifest a specific way, or they weren’t realistic to happen immediately so I was afraid it wouldn’t work out the way I envisioned. Not only did everything work out the way I envisioned but it worked out even better and exactly how I would want them to apply to life but in a realistic way. So if that’s something you worry about don’t worry, you are God, and it will work out perfectly.
Anyways, I just wanted to share this because I failed for a while and everyone on this app was so supportive. Tumblr is genuinely like a little magical family so now everyone will see my succeed… though this on anon mode bc people have been attacking success stories lately. And honestly it doesn’t matter bc I just want to live my new spoiled life but I want to express my gratitude because my life was in shambles and you three helped me so much. So thank you again and I hope everyone who read this. No, I know everyone who reads this will get what they deserve.
HII LOVE!! WOW CONGRATULATIONS (⑅˶ᵔ �� ᵔ˶) ~♡
I'm very excited for you!!! And yes, void Tumblr has definitely changed rn and I feel there's many blogs on here that's good and no more liars. I'm so glad you gained faith back in the community and now you're living your dream life, love.
Aww pink and charm have the best posts on the void too <3.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Gorgeouslypink doubts post
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Charms lucid dreaming guide, SSILD method
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Gorgeouslypink recliner method
I LOVE YOUR MANIFESTATIONS AND EVERYTHING SOUNDS SO FUN OMGG!! LLYSM <33
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noxtivagus · 2 years
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it's 1:40 am n i'll sleep soon but
#🌙.rambles#OH I#honestly i feel better again bcs#nah idk but it's quiet rn n apollo's sleeping next to me. the world is kind. in this moment#fuck everything else i can continue stressing about life tomorrow#that said though. i want to like#i remembered this idea i had a while back ! i can't exactly rmb when tho#but. giving questions to my friends#like — 'what is the color of an angel's blood?' & 'how do you envision the end of the world?'#stuff like that. kind of like prompts but#i want to ask it to friends who aren't writers as well. bcs our answers to these reflect on ourselves#whether it be. how we're feeling right now. our personality. our current thoughts. ideals.#:') honestly i wish i had more writer friends. or just friends generally more similar w me#i want to meet a lot more people honestly#i find everyone interesting. especially the ones i know in my life#but the thought of there's so much more out there that i have yet to meet#i want to learn about as much things and people that i can#while also delving deeper into everything and everyone i have now#i'm just so curious about the universe#n that curiosity gives me life#maybe i don't belong in this world. but there are moments with you that makes me feel like i do#words and stories and voices and hands. how they serve as a path to a grander world beyond#the depths of our humanity are deep indeed. and i'm willing to venture into the darkest of oceans and the furthest reaches of the sky#so even if though there are many difficulties in life. as long as i stay true to myself. i will find and claim what i seek.
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alotofpockets · 2 months
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Confidence | 18+ MDNI
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Pairing: Reneé Rapp x Reader
Summary: Reneé asks you to come to her first day off shooting Mean Girls to give her the confidence she needs to play Regina George. (based on this scene)
Warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut
Reneé Rapp Masterlist | Words: 1.2k
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Reneé usually didn’t have a problem with showing off her body, she was proud of the way she looked, and often showed the world her confident side. She wore revealing outfits all the time, and never really gave a care in the world what others thought about her appearance. However, as the first day of shooting Mean Girls came closer, she started getting more and more nervous about portraying this confident character in front of the cameras.
Of course, Reneé had played Regina before, and knew the character well, but in front of the cameras it was different. On stage she got into character and played the part in front of a lot of people, but they were all sitting at a distance, and observed not only her but also the rest of the set around her. On set the cameras and the crew would be focussed on her playing the character the way they had envisioned her, of course they did the same for the other actors there, but the scene she was most worried about was Regina’s opening scene. 
It didn’t take much convincing on your girlfriend’s end to get you to join her on set for the first day of shooting. You loved supporting her in person whenever you were able to. Supporting her didn’t just mean her music and her acting, you supported her in every aspect of life, and she did the same for you, that is why your relationship worked so well. 
While it was an early call, Reneé still took some time to show you around the set. You hadn’t been to the Mean Girls set yet, and were looking at everything full of amusement. When you were younger, you had watched the original, and you always loved the movie, so seeing the set of the remake made you feel very nostalgic.
You sat to the side as Reneé was getting ready in the hair and make-up trailer, talking with her costars and the hair and make-up team. It was nice getting to know the girls she’d be working with for the next couple of months. 
Before you headed to the set they’d be shooting at this morning, you took Reneé to the side. “I just wanted to say that you are amazing, and you look incredible. You are going to crush this scene, and every scene after. You are the perfect Regina George, and I cannot wait to see the lines we rehearsed together come to life. I love you, baby. Have fun out there, and I will be right behind the crew supporting you.” Reneé pecked your lips, “You’re the best, but shush now or you’re going to make me cry.” You both laugh, and head into the hall the scene would be shot in. 
They were shooting the scene where Cady met Regina for the first time to the song ‘Meet the Plastics’. It included a close up shot of Reneé signing the song, while the camera slowly panned out, revealing more of her. It took a few takes to get the close up right, but when the crew was happy with the results, they moved on to the part that Reneé was most nervous about. It was a shot where she would sensually open her leather jacket and show off her boobs.
The first few takes were cut, “Reneé can you give us a try with some more confidence please?” The director asked and she nodded in response. Reneé looked up to you for some reassurance, and found you clenching your thighs together. You hid it well, no one else around you would notice, but Reneé knew. That familiar look in your eyes, and the subtle movements, she knew all too well. That sight alone gave her the confidence she needed to act the scene exactly how the directors had in mind. 
Once the scene was done, and Reneé had quickly said bye to her co-workers she walked up to you, “I knew having you here would do the trick. Wanna head back to my trailer?” Reneé wouldn’t be in the next couple of scenes they were shooting, so she had some free time. She knew just the way she wanted to spend that free time. 
After entering the trailer door behind you, Reneé pressed you up against it. Your breath hitched at the sudden movement, but a smirk started playing on your lips once you saw the look in your girlfriend’s eyes. “I told you you looked incredible.” You tease, letting your hand drag over her chest. When your hands found the zipper, you undid it the rest of the way, and took off the jacket. Your hands moved up her arms slowly until they reached the nap of her neck. “You are so beautiful, baby.” You tell her before she crashes her lips onto yours.
The kiss was instantly heated, you were very turned on from watching the scene Reneé acted in, so every small touch of your girlfriend letting her hands explore your body sent electricity throughout your body. Her lips made their way down your neck, kissing, sucking, and licking the spots you knew were going to have small bruises later. Your soft moans filled the trailer.
Reneé pulled you towards the bed in the back of the trailer. Only breaking the kiss, once you made it to the bed, so she could take off your shirt, and your bra. “So pretty.” She said before taking one of your nipples into her mouth, and swirling her tongue around the hardened bud. With one of your hands behind her back to pull her closer, and the other massaging her breasts, you fell back onto the bed. 
It didn’t take long for both of your clothes to be thrown onto the ground, and your moans filled the trailer once more, as Reneé drags her finger through your folds. “Fuck, you’re so wet baby.” Between moans you manage to say, “I told you, you looked incredible.” Reneé chuckled, “Once again proving that you are a boob girl.” Her comment made you laugh, but it got caught short as she entered one of her fingers into you, and started fucking you at a fast pace right away. 
Your moans start to get so loud that you’re afraid that someone will hear you, so you pull Reneé closer and crash your lips together to muffle the noises. You felt yourself nearing your high fast, as she entered a second finger, and used her thumb to run circles around your clit. “Baby, I-” Reneé’s darkened eyes meet yours, “Fuck, I’m close.” Reneé fastens her pace even more, loving the way she can feel you tighten around her fingers. “Come for me, baby.” Her sultry voice brings you over the edge. You moan her name loudly, no longer being able to control yourself as she fucks you through your orgasm. 
You let your head fall back onto the bed, while you come down from your high with a heaving chest. Reneé cleans off her fingers on the sheets, before she places soft kisses all over your face. “You did so great, baby. I should take you to set with me more often.” She says smiling down at you, admiring the way your sensitive body reacts to her soft touches. 
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