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#was laughing the entire time i was drawing this lmao
uchiwaflame · 2 months
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has this been done yet
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itty-bitty-sunshine · 1 month
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I know this is random but reading your blog and seeing your art made me so motivated I made my 1st animation ever (not counting pixel art ones), after not drawing digitally in months and it looks kinda basic and it isn't colored but I made it and I'm really happy with it so I guess what I'm trying to say is thank you for motivating me to make digital art again! I hope you have a wonderful day/night :)
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MKJSJWJW HI!!! THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR TELLING ME THATS GREAT!!! Animatics need time and patience so the fact you went straight for it is so cool!!!! I bet it looks lovely!
Hope you have the greatest day/night too!
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sins-of-the-sea · 1 year
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Rashid: “Briefs!”
Josep: “Boxers!”
Rashid: “Briefs!”
Josep: “Boxers!”
Rashid: *rips off all his clothes except for his briefs.* “Briefs!”
Josep: *rips off all his clothes except for his boxers* “Boxers!”
Abena: *wolf whistles at both*
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jamkats · 1 year
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idk for my first time drawing wheeler i think i did p good
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Lesson 1: "White Man Painted Black"?
Okay, I recognize that this is a strong foot to step off on! But! If you learn nothing else from this series, if you decide for whatever reason to forsake me: this is the ONE perspective I'd like you to take away!
You may have heard this quote before, when Black fans deride a character design as 'a white man with the brown bucket tool'. On its face, it means exactly what was said. But specifically, what it means is that we recognize that whomever designed the character drew the way they normally draw for a 'default' character in their mind- default usually meaning White/Eurocentric features- and they added a shade of brown within the line art to make that character now 'Black'.
Now if you're feeling defensive, wait just a moment! This discomfort is not inherently a bad thing!
I'm going to use both a 'real world' example first, to show you what your Black fans and peers are seeing, and perhaps you will also understand our discomfort!
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(if anyone was curious, my folder for this lesson is titled 'brad' lmao and you'll see why)
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(I'll have y'all know that I actually worked very hard to make Blackface Brad look mildly presentable lmao I'm sorry, I'm wheezing, I can hardly breathe looking at him 🤣)
You see how, despite knowing where this was going, and using one of the darkest shades of brown in my Skin Tones arsenal, you still know that that's Brad Pitt? That nothing about his hair texture, his lips, his nose, or really anything other than the palette change... changed? And you can still see that?
It's incredibly hurtful to be told that that's supposed to be you. You know it's not, you know why it's not, but rather than hearing how it makes you feel unseen and what they could do to be better (since they wanted to draw a Black character!), the artist lashes out at you.
And as an artist, you might have worked VERY HARD to do this! That might be a real handsome guy you drew!! But... is he really Black? Did you walk into it with the intention, that you were drawing a Black Character, or did you draw a character that just happened to be Black? It seems like a silly thing, but it matters!
Okay. I just finished laughing over Brad. Now let's get into some more perspective changes:
Now, imagine you drew a character. You want to make her Black, so you change the hair and skin colors. All right! You have your Black character... right?
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Changed ONE feature about her? (You should obviously change more than one feature, but let's just go with the simplified example.)
What if, instead of just changing her palette, we changed her:
Hair?
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There isn't nearly enough time in the world, let alone in this little scribble and blurb, for me to describe the IMPORTANCE of Black hair in Black character design. There are so many ways to do curls, afros, braids, twists, locs, SO MANY HAIRSTYLES!! Get used to searching in the 3C-4C hair textures!!!! I plan on doing an entire lesson or two on hair alone, but suffice it to say, Hair Texture is thee BIGGEST giveaway that you 'painted a white person Black'- from cartoon styles to realistic! It reveals itself in your writing as well- just based on how your character takes care of their hair, how your describe the texture, how other people might perceive it... it lets me know just how much research was done. Because we can have straight hair! But again, that's a conversation for a whole 'nother lesson so- come back later 👀?
Lips?
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I love our lips, I really do. There's a long history of shaming Black women in particular for the way our lips look. So when I see them done in all their glory, it makes me very happy. Two-toned lips vary in shade and intensity, so make sure you're using references if you want to be 'realistic', but it doesn't have to be that hard. Even a little subtle shift like this in the design/story description lets me know that a creator was thinking about me.
Nose?
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One thing I've noticed ever since I starting drawing is that... people in a lot of mangas/manhwas barely have noses! I admit, out of all the features on the face, the nose isn't the most important. I think they should be, especially when you want to emphasize that your characters look different! People have different types of noses! I especially want to gear this towards those with a goal of drawing realistic portraits and the like- there, the nose is ANOTHER dead giveaway. There are Black people with aquiline and straight noses- we aren't a monolith- but is that why you drew it? Consider why you went for that nose specifically. That's part of the intent, in all this!
Now, you might be looking at me and going "Ice... this is just character design". To which my answer is: Yes! It is! It feels so basic, and yet if you ask your Black friends/peers how often they've come across this feeling of not being properly drawn/written, from fanart to professionally produced works, it's unfortunately common despite how simple of a concept it is.
I hope that you can walk away from my first lil lesson with new eyes. Remember, it's the thought that counts, but the action that delivers!
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Helluva Boss Characters Reacting to You Asking for a Hug
Tbh this series is just for my own enjoyment at this point lmao
I’m so normal about them, I swear.
BLITZØ
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Honestly, it depends on what type of relationship you have with him
Familial relationship? Best BELIEVE he’s coddling the shit outta you rn
^ def a cheek pincher
“Hey sweetie? Do you need me ta fuck someone up for ya?”
But if y’all are platonic, or SATAN FORBID
R O M A N T I C ?
Ur not getting Shit
Well, until you start crying
“You’re a fuckin’ baby, you know that?”
Very casual hugs
Always sits his chin on you
Will complain the entire time
But you both know he loves you
LOONA
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“Oh shit, you good?”
She’s blunt, not heartless
Honestly pretty touched that you asked for a hug instead of just going for one
Like her adoptive dad, very casual hugs
Usually just slings an arm over your shoulders
Won’t talk to you about it
Y’all just sit in comforting silence
Don’t let anyone point out that she’s letting you touch her
Will get v flustered
Depending on how you both feel - may let you play with her hair to self regulate
MILLIE
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“Sure thing, hun!”
Doesn’t matter who you are, or why you need a hug, she’ll take it
Physical affection is her top love language idc
Squeezes super super tight
Like, you can barely breathe
Gushes over how sweet you are
Will probs pepper your face in kisses too (doesn’t matter what ur relationship with her is)
((Millie is a strong believer in non-romantic kisses, she told me herself))
Will probs ask Moxxie to bring y’all a drink
MOXXIE
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“Uhh, you sure you want a hug from me?”
Yes babe I’m sure
Doesn’t think he’s the best one to be comforting you - will palm you off to Millie if he can
But will be offended if anyone else says he can’t look after you
^^ Gets all huffy about it
Distraction is his new best friend
Will tell you a mixture of stories and fun facts to try and make you feel better
Will also make you a hot drink
If you want to, will talk out your feelings with you
STOLAS
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Babes just blinks for a hot minute as your words register with him
Has the softest smile
“Of course, dearest. Come here.”
A hug isn’t enough for him, you’re in for a full blown cuddle sesh now
Likes the feeling of having you fully wrapped up in his arms
Forehead kisses. Forehead Kisses.
Will sometimes swaddle you in blankets like a literal baby
Hums softly for you
Tries to ask what’s wrong, will def push the subject
He just wants to fix it, okay?
Will just,,, smother you in affection until you’re okay
And then some
OCTAVIA
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Judgemental eyebrow raise.
Judgy, judgy girl
Y’all gotta be CLOSE for her to hug
((But not really, she’s so touch starved its not funny, but we don’t talk about that-))
Long, comforting hugs
If u end up crying, will fix your makeup for you
Don’t mention it though
Like, literally don’t mention it or it won’t happen again
She probs just breathes a sigh of relief when y’all hugs
Holds on a little too tight, for a little too long
If you ask first, she’ll start coming to you for hugs now too
FIZZAROLLI
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Baby. Baby, baby man.
Will wrap his arms around you several times over
Another really tight hugger
You had shit to do?
Sike, not anymore
Now you’re spending all day with Fizz
Your fault, you started it by asking for a hug
Is super worried about you, but tries to play it down
Will do stupid shit just to see you laugh
Will ALSO flirt with you until you can’t stand it anymore
ASMODEUS
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Immediately concerned, does not try to hide it
Much like his bf, cancels all plans for today
Y’all are gonna be chilling in bed and cuddling now
Just kinda,,, scoops you up?
Definitely plays with your hair
Gives a SOLID head massage
So so gentle and sweet
Just lays you on his chest
Draws pictures on your back and makes you guess what he’s drawing
^^ he does this to help ground you
Tbh he’ll probably drag Fizz to bed too, so know they’re both looking after you
Mans isn’t gonna let anyone get left out
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thegempage · 2 years
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[image description: The first image is digital drawing of a pale man with long brown hair and glasses. He appears to be floating in mid-air and is wearing a Page of Space outfit accessorized with an over-the-shoulder bag and a hologram of a purple beret. He's looking apprehensively at a screen that is being projected from his earring and holding a paintbrush that looks like it is made of space.
The second is of an older man whose skin and hair are monochrome. He is scowling with his arms crossed at a floating, circular screen coming out of his watch. He's wearing a Knight of Doom outfit, the edges of which near his skin are turning gray. end of description]
sometimes. you've just gotta draw au art! and be very excited about it!! and also the images are transparent bcus i like fucking around with the floaty screen aesthetic homestuck has. hopefully this posts right lmao
more to come bcus you Know i'm gonna draw everybody in their god tier outfits, lmao
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karajaynetoday · 3 months
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hey now, you're an all-star | jack hughes
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it took one month of watching hockey for me to write fic. lmao. classic. good vibes.
thank you @littledrummeraussie for proofreading, love you angie 💖
READ PART TWO HERE
READ PART THREE HERE
word count: 2.8k
Warnings:  i don't think it needs any? just forgive my limited knowledge of hockey and canada i suppose? mentions of anxiety related to university? it's a bit angsty bc let's be real, do i ever know how to write anything else?
(This is a fem reader insert)
More writing here (soz that the masterlist is not up to date lol) | send thoughts/feedback/suggestions here
You’d known Jack Hughes for as long as you could remember. He stood up for you in the playground at kindergarten, when a bigger kid pushed you off the swings; you returned the favour by saving him from a spider on his backpack. Ever since, you’d always had each other’s backs. 
And for as long as you’d known Jack, you’d been able to tell when he was upset about something. His lips did this thing, not quite a pout, but nowhere near the easy smile you were used to seeing. He’d pull his sleeves down over his hands, and his breathing would be… deeper, somehow. He could never meet your gaze, either. 
You were scrolling through Instagram on your couch at home, where you were supposed to be studying, when you saw a video of Jack from the Devils fundraiser event, answering media questions about his injury and when he’d be back on the ice. He laughed and smiled for the cameras, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. They asked about the all-star game, and you could feel his hesitation in answering. Jack tried to be positive and assure everyone that he had a chance of playing, but you both knew that wasn’t very likely. 
You sent the video to Jack with a comment bagging out his hairstyle, hoping to lift his mood a little, before dropping your phone onto the couch and drawing your attention back to the economics case study you were supposed to be analysing. 
You’d stayed in Toronto for university, while Jack headed off to New Jersey after his draft year. Long distance friendship took a lot of getting used to, but at least you were still in the same timezone, and the NHL schedule meant that Jack was contractually obliged to visit you a few times each year. Quinn too, despite how much he complained about the intensity of hockey mania in Toronto. In fact, the entire Hughes family sometimes made the trek, which you knew your parents not-so-secretly loved. It reminded you of the warmth you felt growing up in each other’s homes, filled with laughter and joy.
The little focus you had for your economics homework was broken when your phone began to vibrate beside you, Jack’s name flashing on the screen. You rolled your eyes with a smile, before leaning over to answer the video call. 
“Good morning, sunshine!” You greeted your best friend, who was already scowling at you. 
“Is it a good morning, though? When all I do is get criticism from my supposed best friend?” 
“It’s not criticism, more… encouragement, I’d say.” You teased back, Jack rolling his eyes at you.
“Encouraging what, exactly?”
“Encouraging you to make better personal style choices, especially related to hair. You are a millionaire, after all. Least you can do is get a decent haircut.” 
“Oh, my apologies. Didn’t realise I was getting encouragement from the queen of high fashion. Is that a coffee stain on that shirt?” Jack’s eyes glanced down at what little he could see of your outfit in the video call, before poking his tongue out at you.
“Hey, I’m a university student. This is high fashion, I’ll have you know. Anyway, why aren’t you at training?” You asked, cocking your head to the side in curiosity. 
Jack’s lips pressed together, and he looked away from his phone and you; you silently cursed yourself for asking the question. Even though Jack had been injured, he’d been pretty dedicated to his rehab and recovery, so it was a little odd for him to be calling you in the morning rather than be at a physio session. 
“More scans this afternoon so no session this morning. Trying to decide if I can play next weekend or if I just have to show up and look pretty.” Jack tried to joke, but you could tell that it wasn’t something he found humour in. 
“Good thing that looking pretty comes naturally to you, J.” 
“Oh, so now I’m pretty? I thought I had shit hair?!”
“You can both be a pretty face and have shit hair, buddy. They’re not mutually exclusive.”
“Mutually exclusive? Is that a fancy term you learnt at school?” 
You laughed at that, earning a Jack smile in return. You continued chatting back and forth for another 30 minutes or so, before Jack had to go to his scans. 
You managed to get through the rest of your economics homework, but your mind kept wandering back to Jack and his frustration at being injured. He’d been an All-Star before, so it wasn’t that specifically he was frustrated about missing, you were certain. The difference this year was Quinn’s selection in the All-Star weekend, and the building anticipation around so-called “Team Hughes” that would see Jack and Quinn on the same team for the first time in their NHL careers. That’s probably what Jack was upset about, because as much as they chirp each other and are fiercely competitive, there’s nothing Jack Hughes loves more than his brothers. You knew that he’d be in his head overthinking everything and convincing himself that he was letting Quinn down, somehow, despite it being beyond his control. 
The only further communication you got from Jack that day was a thumbs-down text message, which told you all you needed to know. You were sporadically in touch a few times throughout the week, and before you knew it, it was the day everyone was flying in for All-Star weekend.
You’d managed to persuade your parents that a full-blown neighbourhood party was not necessary, and instead convinced them to accept Quinn’s invitation to a lowkey but nice dinner downtown near the hotel where he and Jack were staying. The dinner was something you were looking forward to all week, but you hadn’t anticipated two things: accidentally deleting half your economics essay the night before it was due and having to stay up until 3am to finish it; and the butterflies that you were feeling when you were getting ready for dinner. Why on earth were you so nervous? Seeing Jack and Quinn after a while was usually something that excited you, not stressed you out. 
You had just pulled on your dress and finished wrangling your hair when your phone pinged with a message from Jack. 
Have you looked at the menu for this place? We need to order a side of the loaded mac n cheese pls and thx 
I thought you were a high performance athlete? But of course, mac n cheese is a MUST
Correct, my body is a temple. A temple of mac n cheese. Mac is a carb, cheese is calcium for my bones. Winners all around. See ya soon x
Xo
It was freezing outside, so you took an Uber from your university apartment to the restaurant. You were running behind, thanks to traffic, and then you almost toppled over on the pavement outside due to the wet weather. Between that and your sleep deprivation, you honestly wanted nothing more than to go home, put your pyjamas on and cry; but you plastered a smile on your face and headed inside the restaurant. 
The hostess greeted you warmly, and offered to take your coat once you established that your parents had already arrived and were seated on a table towards the back of the restaurant, and you could see the backs of Jack and Quinn as you approached them. Everyone stood up to greet you with hugs and kisses, and the butterflies sparked again when Jack pulled out the chair next to his for you to sit down. Jack and Quinn both had nice sweaters on with collared shirts, and you were quietly glad you’d decided to wear a dress rather than the jeans you’d initially picked out. 
“How did your essay go, sweetheart? I know economics isn’t your favourite…” Your mother enquired, obviously unaware of your crisis the night before. 
You gave her a tight-lipped smile and took a sip of the diet coke in front of you (that Jack must’ve ordered for you, no doubt) before mumbling something about getting it sorted and hoping for the best. Your dad swiftly changed the subject to the weekend’s festivities, excitedly asking Quinn about his plans for the All-Star draft, but you could feel Jack’s eyes on you. You met his gaze and subtly shook your head, silently asking for him to save his questions for later. Jack frowned at you, but complied. 
The dinner felt like it went quickly, but also went for hours. Your stomach hurt from laughing (and probably too much mac and cheese), as Jack and Quinn regaled your parents with stories of their seasons and their plans for the next summer off in Michigan, where your two families would join each other for a month or so of adventures. You found yourself smiling as your dad and the Hughes brothers comically argued over who would pay the bill, before Jack excused himself to the bathroom and sneakily paid the bill on his way there. 
Jack and Quinn’s hotel was walking distance from the restaurant, and they excitedly invited you and your parents to come and see the fancy suite they’d been gifted for the weekend. Your mother made some excuse about traffic on the drive home and promised to come and see it some other time, but nudged you in your side as she told you to go and check it out. You were so tired and ready for bed, but reluctantly agreed; your window of opportunity to spend time with Jack was closing, so you figured you may as well make the most of it.
The butterflies in your stomach flitted around as Jack helped you into your coat before you headed outside the restaurant and bid your parents farewell. You fell into step in between the brothers as they traipsed back toward the hotel, conversation flowing easily as Quinn asked about your college classes and you asked him about the latest book he was reading. Jack was silent as you walked the few blocks before arriving at the hotel, and he gently placed his hand onto your back as you were guided through the hotel front door and into the elevator. 
Your jaw dropped when Quinn swiped his key card and you all entered the hotel suite. They weren’t joking about it being fancy, holy shit. 
The floor to ceiling windows had incredible views of the city skyline, with a very comfortable looking couch in the living area facing the view. Two doors at either side of the living room lead to bedrooms with luxurious linens, and the marble bathrooms were impeccably finished. 
Jack was grinning as he watched you take it all in, leaning up against the door frame to his bedroom as you stood near the window and gaped at the views. Quinn had flopped down on the couch and was texting on his phone. 
“Can they gift this to you year-round? I’d like to live here…” You mused, shaking your head at how insane this hockey lifestyle could be. 
“We could probably just buy it for you.” Jack said nonchalantly, as he wandered over to stand beside you at the window. 
“Yeah, if you want. They’d probably charge us more because I’m a Canuck, though.” Quinn deadpanned, earning a laugh from you and an eye-roll from Jack.
“Speaking of, the guys are all catching up in Petey’s room, so I think I’ll head down there. See you tomorrow after the draft, sugar plum.” Quinn pulled you into a hug, and your heart burst at him using your childhood nickname (which came from one ill-fated ballet performance and you insisted you hated, but secretly loved being called). 
You could’ve sworn you saw Quinn wink at Jack before he left the hotel room, but then again, the sleep deprivation could also be sending you loopy. 
“Wanna watch a movie?” Jack asked, moving to stand behind you and loop his arms around your waist as you still faced the window. Your heart rate shot through the roof as he pulled you closer, and nestled his head in between your neck and shoulder. You cringed as you realised he could probably feel your pulse beating fast. 
“Sure, but no blaming me if I fall asleep on you, sorryyyyy.” You awkwardly maneuvered yourself out of Jack’s embrace and walked over to the couch, sitting down on it and removing your shoes. 
“The first time we’ve seen each other in MONTHS and you’re going to fall asleep? Am I that boring? Sheesh.” Jack drawled, watching you from where he stood.
“Yes.” You stuck your tongue out at him, but lost it to a yawn which made you both laugh. 
“You know I love you, J. I would happily pull an all-nighter with you, but I don’t think two in a row is probably good for me.”
“Two in a row? What, where you out partying hard last night?” Jack’s voice trailed off as he wandered off into the bedroom, leaving the door open behind him. You heard a drawer open and a light thud onto the floor, and your throat tightened when you realised Jack was changing his clothes. God, you’d gotten changed in front of each other a million times. Why was your brain making everything so weird tonight?
“Not quite. Had a disaster that involved accidentally deleting my entire essay, sobbing for an hour, then staying up until 3am to write the whole thing. Living the dream, as per usual.” You rattled off, trying to sound nonchalant about, even though just thinking about last night made you nauseous with anxiety. Your nonchalance was clearly unconvincing, as Jack came back out of the bedroom clad in a hoodie and sweats and bee-lined for you, his face covered in concern. 
“Don’t look at me like that. It’s fine, I promise. All part of the college experience.” You weren’t sure if you were trying to convince yourself or Jack more. He couldn’t either, but instead of pushing the issue, he threw a hoodie at your head and laughed when you looked offended. 
“I’m definitely falling asleep if I put this on, by the way. You know I love being cozy. Cozy is my natural state of being.” You pulled your hair up into a loose bun using the hair tie on your wrist, before pulling the black Devils hoodie over your head. 
Jack slotted himself beside you on the couch and reached his arm over your shoulders, finding the remote with his other hand and navigating the ridiculously large TV onto Netflix. 
“Fine by be, sugarplum. I’d rather know you’re getting sleep here than send you home to stress yourself out more.”  Jack mused, his fingers absentmindedly stroking your arm while he found the latest season of a TV show you both loved to watch and pressed play.
“I’m not stres - it was just one essay - I promise I’m fine.” You sputtered, tripping over your words when Jack locked eyes with you, his gaze empathetic but all-knowing. 
“Besides, I’m not the only one in the room worth worrying about.” You said softly, nudging Jack’s side gently. Jack rolled his lips between his teeth, and sighed; he put down the remote and pulled his hoodie sleeves over his hands. 
“But we don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. You’re not letting anyone down, though. Quinn doesn’t think that.” You continued, softly, not wanting to cause tension. 
Jack sighed deeply again and pulled his arm away from you, leaning forward and rubbing his face with both hands. 
“You don’t know what Quinny’s thinking, sugar. And it’s not just Quinn, it’s the fucking journalists, and Bratter’s vacation being ruined, and goddamn Michael Bublé being disappointed in me, and - just - fucking all of it.” Jack exhaled deeply, running his fingers through his hair in frustration. 
You didn’t know what to say, because you could tell that Jack wasn’t in a mood that you could talk him down out of. But you could tell he needed comfort, needed reassurance, needed to know that you still had his back. Ever since kindergarten. 
You grabbed the back of Jack’s hoodie and gently tugged it, and he leaned back against the couch. You tapped Jack’s legs next, and he moved them up onto the other side of the L-shaped couch, so he was properly reclining. You paused, trying to figure out how to position yourself without being literally on top of Jack, but while your brain was running a million miles a minute, Jack’s hand found yours and yanked you towards him gently. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, before adjusting yourself between Jack’s body and the side of the couch. Jack’s arm found a home over your hips and settled gently on your stomach, pulling your back against his chest. You felt his breath on your neck as you both wriggled around, trying to get comfortable.
 
“Is this okay, sugar?” Jack’s voice was barely a whisper, directly into your ear. You didn’t trust your voice not to squeak a response so you simply nodded, trying desperately to calm your fast beating heart.
You rested your hand on top of Jack’s and gently squeezed, feeling yourself starting to lull to sleep. Despite the butterflies and your heart jumping out of your chest, you somehow had never felt more at peace, right in this moment.
This was safe, this was calm. This was home. 
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sunsetsimon · 6 months
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Halloween Party (NSFW)
simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader nsfw
mentions of drinking alcohol, semi-public sex, unprotected sex, a little rough but nothing crazy
his gunslinger skin has had me going crazy recently. totally self indulgent.. my first time writing a full blown smut scenario in like 4 years so cut me some slack if it sucks lmao. AND SORRY ITS LATE I WAS OVERTHINKING IT TOO MUCH.
hope you enjoy!!! - sun
nsfw under the cut. mdni
─────── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───────
simon couldn't believe you managed to drag him to this halloween party hosted by your friends. you knew full well that simon is neither a halloween nor party guy, so this was way out of his comfort zone. but dammit... he wanted to make you happy. he knows you miss out on a lot of things because of his antisocial tendencies, and it made him feel better knowing he'd be there to protect you if anything happened, so he decided to go.
he's dressed in a gunslinger costume, full black dress attire and a red chrome mask. the bottom of his face is exposed, pale scar on his top lip barely visible. his black hat covers his eyes and he keeps his head low, not wanting to draw attention. the fabric hugs his muscles perfectly and your appetite is growing for something that isn't food. the short cape on his coat makes his shoulders broader, somehow making your boyfriend appear even bigger.
he steps to the door first, the music clearly blasting from inside, barely muffled by the thin door. giving you a nod, he opens it and you walk in, holding his hand as you lead him through the crowd.
"hey guys!!" you hear yelled over the music, turning to see your best girl friend, anna, waving at you two. she squeezes her way through the crowd, a huge smile on her face when she sees your matching outfits. simon in his costume, you in a cowgirl one. "you guys look great!" she says excitedly, giving you a quick hug and simon a wave.
simon leaves to make you both a drink while you catch up with your friend. he watches you from across the room, you look so beautiful when you laugh. with your cowgirl costume on, dressed in black shorts and a black vest top to match him, with fishnet tights and red cowgirl boots.
the night flows quickly as you get lost in the music and drinks. you chat with your friends throughout the night but make a point to stay close to simon, knowing he wanted to leave within the first ten minutes of arriving. "come with me," you say, grabbing his gloved hand and pulling him from the corner he got comfortable in.
simon huffs, following you out to the backyard, "what's out 'ere?"
you giggle, tipsy from the alcohol and feeling playful, "this is where the real fun is."
there's only a few stragglers, a couple sitting with their feet in the pool and a small group talking in the opposite corner of the yard.
pulling him to you, you push up his chrome mask to reveal his entire mouth. his lips are a soft pink, bottom one slightly plumper than the top. he hums when you kiss him, tasting the mixed drink you had been nursing for the last 15 minutes. dragging a hand slowly up your back, he holds the back of your head, fingers threading through your hair and giving a small tug.
your tongues fight for dominance but you fail when he sucks on your wet muscle, knowing that makes you weak. cupping his growing bulge, lightly massaging him through his dress pants. simon almost growls, pulling away and dragging you to the side of the house for more privacy.
throwing his hat to the ground, he kisses you hungrily, loving the way you moan into the kiss when he gives your fat ass cheek a hard squeeze. your heart is pounding, worried that anyone could turn the corner and see you two. but simon quickly swipes that thought from your mind, trailing wet kisses down your neck and across your throat. his short blonde hair tickles your chin, a small chuckle vibrating through your chest. simon's head is spinning, the desire to be inside of you too strong to wait much longer.
"bite," he orders, holding a gloved finger up to your mouth. you submit easily, teeth grabbing the tip of the fabric as he pulls it off. his bare hand gives a small pat to your cheek, "good girl."
he shoves his hand down your shorts, teasing your swollen clit through your damp panties. he rolls your sweet bud in his fingers, loving the way you mewl, gripping his shoulders hard with want. his mask is lopsided on his face, lips swollen and pink from your bites and sucks.
"f-fuck simon... let's be quick," you whine. you might be tipsy and horny, but that doesn't let you forget that you're in your friend's backyard and anyone could see you right now.
“you rushin’ me, lovie? thought you dragged me out ‘ere cause you wanted to get fucked, yeah?” simon asks, his voice thick with lust. he takes his hand out of your shorts and flips you to face the brick wall, tugging them down just past your ass. quickly working to unbuckle his belt and fetch his cock from his pants, he fucks into you with haste, groaning at the way your tight hole sucks him in.
he drags your hips further from the wall, forcing you to arch your back and lean against it with your arms. the brick scratches your skin, your body jumping with each thrust as he bullies your gummy pussy, loving the way you squeeze him when his huge cock pokes your cervix. reaching around your thigh, he tickles your swollen and aching clit. the cold pad of his fingers adds to your pleasure, mind dizzy as he fucks you expertly.
"gonna cum si-" you cry, but a hand slaps over your mouth. as if anyone could even hear you from the loud music inside. his fingers tighten, lightly squeezing your tiny face when you continue to moan and cry into his hand. hot tears of pleasure stream down your face, the knot in your stomach twisting until it finally snaps.
pussy walls clenching eagerly around him as you cum, begging for his seed. euphoria washes over you in waves, shocks shooting through your entire body, tiny clit burning from his abuse. your legs are weak, knees knocking against each other but simon pulls you back up, refusing to let you fall.
"nng- fuck. 'm so close," he heaves, his nails digging into your hips when he squeezes them hard. your whines and pulsating pussy are all he can focus on, the party a distant memory at this point. with one final push he cums, shooting his load deep into your cunt, holding you back against him to make sure you get every last drop.
"ready?" he asks after a minute and you nod. slowly withdrawing from your pussy, a trail of cum following suit. getting yourselves together, you pull up your soiled panties and shorts, cringing at the cold wetness in your pants.
"i guess we'd better say bye to anna and them," you laugh, "i need a fucking shower."
“let’s get out of ‘ere then,” simon agrees, buckling his belt and grabbing his hat before making his way back inside. he decided he needed to come to halloween parties with you more often.
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dadsbongos · 7 months
Note
thinking abt airhead reader but w gojo shoko and getou 😭❤️
okay i ended up doing drabbles and headcanons cuz i have so many different ideas lmao
in another universe airhead pussy woulda saved geto btw
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“Sorry, I’m late!” you bound into the classroom, unreactive to the way each floorboard creaks, “This old lady outside needed help down the stairs and then this second year started asking for the time and then-“
“Sit down,” your new teacher unfolds an arm, hand flattened in the direction of a lone empty desk beside a girl with short, dark brown hair.
With knees like jelly, you unsteadily make your way to the chair, heat licking up the back of your neck and around to your cheeks. Eyes scrawl from the dirt-scrubbed white lining of your sneakers to your forehead, but you’re a little too concerned over regaining control of your breathing to notice the way they all glare. 
Shoko folds her arms across her chest, eyeing you through her lashes. Satoru leans back into his seat, legs crossed, grins from behind you. Suguru, meanwhile, stares at you with pinched brows and a firm downward draw on his lips.
You scratch your shoulder, entirely unaware of the singular thought searing from your classmates’ heads.
She’s totally going to die first.
And it’s sick how that thought pervades them again even now. More than a year later.
“C’mon!” you snag Satoru by the hand and pull him closer to the yellow tape restricted tunnels of the Shibuya station, “You’re all poor sports, Satoru and I will take this on all by ourselves!”
“Definitely,” hanging his arm across your shoulder, Satoru leans his weight into you, craning the both of you into an angle as you walk. Waving off your remaining classmates, he laughs in the face of Suguru’s furrowed brows, “Why don’t you two just go home? Have a nice spa day since Suguru’s so tired!”
Huffing, Suguru looks down at Shoko as if she had been the one to offend him, “I said that once in the car.”
Shoko shrugs, stubbing out her cigarette on the concrete below before running after you and Satoru into the tunnel with flickering lights and cracked walls, “Leave it to him to be a pain in the ass!”
Your steps mingle and echo in the dim tunnel, you cling tighter to Satoru - wrapping both arms around one of his and tucking the elbow close to your chest. A fat rat scurries past and Satoru giggles when you shove yourself into his side and cartoonishly ‘eek!’ over it.
“You’re so adorable,” he teases, reaching up with his spare hand to pinch at your cheek, cooing, “Here, let me take care of this curse for ya and you can hide with Suguru.”
“Don’t pick on her, Satoru,” the very man slinks up behind the both of you, unlatching his friend’s fingers from your flesh, “It isn’t nice.”
“Yeah!” you chirp, unwrapping yourself from Satoru’s side and slipping back to match Shoko’s unhurried strides. Your eyes widen at the sight of her already flicking down the pad of her lighter, igniting the end of yet another cigarette, “Shoko…?”
“I can use reverse cursed technique, it's basically like it didn’t happen,” she rolls her eyes.
“I can, too, that doesn’t mean I go around sucking down tobacco!”
“Sucking down?” Satoru snickers, looking at you from over his shoulder, lowering the thick black lenses of his glasses.
Suguru smacks his friend sharply in the shoulder, glare quickly softening when his eyes shift to you, “We’re proud of you.”
“She can be proud of herself,” Shoko blows a thicket of smoke towards Suguru and laughs when he sneers, rearing back, “The two so-called strongest can’t even use reverse cursed technique, but my student did,” she pretends to wipe a tear from her eye.
“It was honestly pretty easy, I just went ‘hioy’ instead of ‘fwoy’ like Shoko said!”
“Exactly!”
And you slam into Suguru’s back with a guttural ‘ugh!’ while Shoko pauses a healthy handful of steps behind Satoru. Suguru twists and chuckles, setting his broad palm against the top of your head to walk you up beside him, “You should watch where you’re going.”
Satoru nods stiffly, hands on his hips like a disappointed mother, “How do you expect to survive as a sorcerer if you can’t sense the energy of a beloved friend?”
“Don’t be mean to me!” you walk out in front of Satoru and smack him in the chest, “It’s totally uncalled for!”
“Hey, ding dong,” Shoko points out behind you, “He’s got a point.”
“Huh?”
You’re not given much time to question it before a burning slithers around your ankle, scorching through your black leggings and wringing your leg tightly to the side. Wooziness hits as the blood in your body races to your head, a dark purple tendril hanging you upside down like a treat before a plump snake.
And it’s so sick and twisted and totally justified that they all have the same thought.
She’s totally going to die first.
Though, now, it’s much more of a heart pounding, throat cinching fear as well.
Not a second of you being flung in the air passes before all three of your classmates are clambering at the curse’s metaphorical and literal throat.
“Hey,” Shoko slides her knee into yours, resting her chin in the palm of her hand while staring at you, “Wanna try?”
She holds out the cherry-lit cigarette between two slender fingers, you twist around to see if Satoru or Suguru are even close to the front steps, “I don’t know…”
“They won’t even know!”
“Hm, will I like it?”
Shrugging, Shoko shoves the cigarette closer to your face and fails to smother down her giggle when you gag at the smell, “Aw, you’re adorable. Here - smoke.”
“You’re just trying to kill me,” you whine, plucking the cigarette from her and taking it between your lips.
And as you inhale, is when Shoko decides to answer your question, “You’ll hate it, by the way.”
And you do. Chest squeezing shut upon that first inhale, your shoulders squeeze closer to your body and you press your face into the crook of your elbow as you cough out the rejected chemicals. Shoko snatches back her cigarette with one hand and pats your back sympathetically with the other.
“Poor baby,” she ‘tsk’s, shaking her head.
“Why do you smoke those?” you wheeze, “So gross!”
“Yeah, yeah, act normal - the idiots are here.”
“They are?!” and she laughs again at how your spine shoots steel rod straight and your head swivels in search of your fellow second years (of whom are nowhere to be found).
“C’mere, kitty kitty!” you hang a hand out in the drippy, garbage cluttered alley, rubbing the tips of your fingers together as if that’d catch the creature’s attention, “Come on, sweet baby!”
Satoru watches with both hands stuffed in his pockets while Suguru has to cage his own behind his back to keep himself from grabbing you away from the shaking, tipped over tin can.
“We can’t keep letting her do this,” Suguru’s foot taps impatiently.
“Just let our Guilmon have fun,” yawning, Satoru leans his head onto one shoulder, “Two more minutes and then we’ll drag her away.”
“Two minutes?” Suguru glares at his counterpart, “That’s so much time to get rabies.”
You ‘pspsps’ into the dark alley, outstretching your other hand and wiggling your fingers towards the green-eyed possum hissing at you from the trash can, “I won’t bite, I promise!”
...
Additional Bullshit Headcanons (cuz i was having fun)
Suguru kinda took to you first because he was in his by-the-books era and didn’t want comrades dying unnecessarily 
And by making you hang out with him, he ended up devilishly charmed by you <3
Through Suguru you’re hanging out with Satoru all the time, and he EATS up all your praise and compliments about his power and skills
Satoru also likes being able to just engage in your sillies and goofies
Sure, he can do that with Shoko and Suguru but that usually ends up in one of them being his “straight man”, but you’re blind to comedy routines and duos so you just bounce off each other’s idiocy for fun
Shoko, however, is evil - she loves messing with you
You’re so gullible and trusting that she can’t help but to fuck with you - in totally harmless ways, though!!
“Hey, you know that food fills up from your feet to your head as you eat, right?”
“Yeah, it hasn’t rained because you’re not thankful enough for the plants.”
When missions are slower and everyone’s free, you’re usually the one initiating outings because nobody else takes the fucking lead lol
It’s just a lot easier to get YOU psyched up for things because you’re already bubbly and excited to be around your friends, and then you convince Satoru and the two of you can get Suguru on board instantly - and if it’s you three vs Shoko then… 
Okay Hidden Inventory arc time
You were sent out with Satoru and Suguru at the insistence of Yaga because even if you weren’t as strong as the other two, he knew you had SOMEWHAT more tact
And he knew that keeping Riko as calm and happy before her assimilation was essential + you being peacekeeper between the ding dongs and whatever poor civilians they might hassle
You and Gojo end up staying back to fight Toji and he fucks you up :) 
L-O-L funny haha, you were feeling confident and strong with Satoru at your side and he gets your fucking ass <3
Satoru is trying to keep his focus on his fight, knowing that no matter how stupid you are - you’re not dumb enough to not be using reverse CT right now
When Satoru gets up, you’re in shock but he just sends you out to find Suguru
When you three return, life is… different :) 
You’re trying to keep up your positive attitude even though now they both know there’s gnarly scars running under all your uniforms
You pick up on Suguru’s change IMMEDIATELY, and no matter how much he complains about the lack of space - you refuse to part from his side
Not to claim that maybe all Geto needed WAS in fact a little airhead pussy, but I don’t think he’s leaving when you’re there
When he gets all :( over Satoru’s new position as the strongest and feeling misunderstood, you’re already like “hey man, maybe the answer isn’t genocide”
And he actually does tell you what he’s feeling in full after talking to Yuki
“I’m thinking that if we kill all non-jujutsu users, then we can all be happy.”
“Suguru, that makes sense, but it’s also very pro-eugenics, which is a big no-no.”
It’s a big process, one that you’re villainously underqualified to take on
“Suguru, taking Tsukumo’s words to heart sounds like a really bad idea…”
You end up doing a reversal on his prior conversation with Satoru about the village Nanako and Mimiko are in, where you point out what little good will come about from killing all the inhabitants
And you let Satoru and Shoko and even Yaga blame you for taking Nanako and Mimiko from their village even though it was definitely Suguru’s idea
In short, Geto and you raise Nanako and Mimiko (and eventually Megumi and Tsumiki ‘cuz Satoru can’t be left out for 2 seconds) and even though he still doesn’t really like non-jujutsu users he doesn’t leave
It’s just more of that customer service bitterness where he can interact but walks away wishing nothing but the worst upon the “bad ones” he meets
And he finds a reason to exorcize curses in lifting the workload from you and Satoru and Shoko (and eventually the kids, if they become sorcerers) rather than pretending to care about the population’s well-being
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Text
Mr. Barnes, Teacher Aide of the Year (Bucky Barnes x Reader)
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Teacher!Reader
Summary: Your brooding Avenger boyfriend becomes a regular visitor in your classroom.
Warnings: flufffffff
Word count: 1k
A/N: absolute self-indulgence - can you tell I miss being a teacher lmao? also Bucky with kids also grumpy bf/playful gf dynamic ugh my heart
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When your first graders ask if you're bringing anything to the show-and-tell party, a lightbulb goes off
"I would be the coolest teacher ever if an Avenger came to visit!" "I dunno, doll..." "Come on, you're so good with Cass and AJ!" "That's different. They're family."
You try to convince him by telling him Steve has done a lot for schools. Bucky looks confused so you show him the Captain America Fitness Challenge and all of Steve's PSAs. This derails the conversation for at least 24 hours as Bucky descends into a record-breaking laughing fit. He laughs in bed with you, he laughs at the dinner table, he visits Steve's memorial to laugh with him there
Eventually, he agrees. You wake up to him ironing a henley and chinos. You tut at him and he shoots you a disbelieving look
"Ah, come on, love, cheer up," you tell him as you grab your work bag. He's waiting for you by the door, grumpy as ever in the black leather jacket and steel toe boots he wears on missions. You tighten the buckle across his chest as he scowls at you. "It's for the kids!"
You spend the car ride convincing Bucky that the kids will love him. He carries your bags into the building, but you stop him short at the entrance. He raises his eyebrow at you as you grip the leather sleeve on his left arm and pull. "Oh, come oooonnnn, doll!" he groans as you wave him into the building, detachable sleeve in tow. "Give the people what they want, babe!" you say.
You prepare your classroom for the day before the kids come in. Your room is suddenly the most popular in the building as staff filter in and out, hearing rumors that an Avenger would be in the building. Your principal insists that Bucky speak to the whole school next time. Your work best friend gives him a friendly hug- you all just had dinner the other night, after all. The entire third grade team comes and gets pictures, each of them marveling at a different muscle group on your boyfriend
Your students LOVE him. You eventually have to ask him to spend some time in the teacher's lounge so your class can focus on your lessons
After that, he becomes a monthly visitor. You create a makeshift "Mr. Barnes Day" on the class calendar. The kids count down the days till they see him again
You have to collect black and yellow crayons from the other classrooms. Your supply runs out too quickly because your kids can't stop drawing themselves with a metal arm
One of your students is having a particularly challenging day. Bucky thinks quickly and takes the rest of your kids outside for an impromptu recess. You help your student calm down, and then you both watch Bucky and the class through the window. The kids are absolutely piling on top of him. Your kids proudly declare that they defeated an Avenger when they go home to their families
It's clear one of your students favors Bucky over you, and only accepts help from Bucky when he visits. She asks Bucky for help with a math worksheet, and his eyes widen when he watches her try to solve it. "This is not how we learned it in the '20s," he whispers to you
Bucky comes home one day, proudly declaring that he has the perfect book to read aloud to the class. The cover is a cartoon drawing of an all-American man with a vibranium shield. He is so excited to read "The Hero from Brooklyn" to your students. The final pages even have drawings of him and Sam, "the best friends a hero could have." "Mr. Barnes, is that youuuu?!" your kids wonder.
You turn Bucky's age into the word problem of the day. "If Mr. Barnes is 25 + 83 years old, how old is he?" Your kids frantically calculate on their papers. "108?!?!" your kids yell. Lukas says that's older than his grandma. Nevaeh says that's older than her great-grandma. Raja gently begins to describe color to him, and you both realize she thinks Bucky sees in black and white
Your students beg Bucky to come in during spirit week. They've missed him dearly, as he has been gone for two months on assignment with Sam. Tuesday is Career Day, and he compliments all the little doctors and teachers as they step off the school bus. He is shocked to see a little kid in all black with their arm wrapped in foil. But more and more Buckies filter in, until he is surrounded by a sea of mini-mes. "We're gonna be superheroes when we grow up!!!" they yell, arms adorned in refashioned black tights, foil, and gold body paint. Bucky sheepishly asks if you can take a picture. Bucky usually hates taking pictures, and his request makes your whole year
You told your class that Bucky was just your friend, but your students are way too smart to believe that, especially after Bucky accidentally calls you "sweetheart" in front of them. Graham misses a day for his aunt's wedding; he comes back and asks if you two would invite the class to your wedding. The class loses their marbles over this, yelling, "Mrs. Barrnnessss!" at you. Bucky turns red. During snack, some of the kids draw pictures of what your ring should look like. You proudly hang it up on your fridge at home
At the end of the year, you invite your students' families to a class celebration. You do this every year, but this year has the best turnout (gee, you wonder why). You have a silly awards ceremony, with certificates celebrating "Most Dinosaur Facts Memorized" and "Best at Catching Their Teacher's Mistakes". Bucky is a puddle of pride and love in the corner until the kids demand he comes up. He's confused until they shove a certificate in his hand: "Mr. Barnes, Best Teacher Helper Ever"
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botboots · 9 months
Note
Saw that your requests were open so what about TFP cons with an adorkable teen human reader? A really close friend (the emotional support bundle of joy™) that is really artistic, kind, understanding and just a pure cinnamon roll, what would be the bots reaction to the lil' human? Optimus, Ratchet,Bulkhead, Arcee, BB, and if you do the kids then the kids. If not the other bots, stay safe!
im back!! so sorry for the long ass wait, had so much going on in my life recently (graduating, going back home, etc.) but hopefully i'll be back to posting somewhat regularly! tysm for the continuous support :] love seeing the notifs pop up every day this is one of the first asks in my inbox (and i completely forgot that the prompt said reader was part of the cons... whoops) and i've wanted to get it done for a while now! have so many more to get through but will get them done eventually - this isn't the best but its cute <3 and you can 100% tell who my favs are lmao warnings: none word count: 939 (GN reader)
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Optimus:
he finds your outlook on things is a nice change of pace compared to the more pessimistic views that some members of the team can have at times
values your compassion greatly, often turning to you as a confidant over the time you’ve gotten to know each other. a mission went wrong and he’s putting all the blame on himself? you’re there to reassure him in a heartbeat, reminding him that he did his best and there’s always another chance; you keep him grounded
has an innate interest in art and writing - he used to be an archivist, after all
so he enjoys watching you indulge in your hobby, your excitement about it reminds him of his younger years of being a clerk at iacon when he would become giddy over a newfound archaic text
he’s very fond of you and makes sure you know it, taking note of the small things you like and getting you whatever little gift he can manage to find - genuinely thinks you’re cute and likes seeing you happy :] 
Ratchet:
while it may have taken him a little longer than the others to warm up to you fully, he grew to start looking forward to your company (despite his his best efforts to hide it)
he appreciates your quiet company; you’re much less rambunctious than both the other humans and his own team - you complain a lot less too, probably one of his favorite qualities about you
like optimus, your bubbly attitude gives him a much needed break from the dreary duties that come with being the autobot medic
you often find yourselves working in tandem, with you sitting on the couch working on your newest project while he stands at his terminal typing away. occasionally you’ll walk over with a nervous smile, and with a roll of his optics he’ll lower a servo for you to climb into and lift you up onto the corner of the console, huffing when you chirp a thank you before the both of you quietly return to your tasks (he enjoys it, really)
while he’s not one to vent his frustrations to you, he’ll always be open to listen to you vent about yours. even if he doesn’t respond with much, he’ll offer logical solutions and observations for whatever issue you’re having
Bulkhead:
the big guy loves art, having been exposed to his fair share of it by miko, and is very encouraging when it comes to your projects
he might not get some of the nuances or meanings of the things you make, but he tries - oftentimes making you laugh a bit at the sheer amount he misses. it’s endearing though, and you appreciate the effort
too fidgety to sit and watch you do anything for too long, but he’ll offer to drive you to a vista for some inspiration while he does his usual scouting routes, miko tagging along of course. she’ll probably bring her sketchbook with her and sit next to you and draw, chattering the entire time while blasting some music from her ipod, offering you one of her earbuds
Arcee:
similar to ratchet she takes a while to get used to you, a little cold at first to your attempts at friendliness
she notices how happy you seem to make everyone else and eventually makes a legitimate pass at being friendly despite how awkward it feels
but with how eagerly you accept it she doesn’t feel as bad, sighing in relief as you immediately start filling her in on how much you’ve enjoyed your time with the autobots
she’s not much of a conversationalist (especially when it comes to humans) so your chattiness is almost a relief - not having to keep up fake interest and energy with someone puts her in a more comfortable position; especially since you’re not one to comment on it like others tend to
will sit and watch you work on whatever your newest project is, a comfortable silence shared between the two of you
rambles about random stuff from her past sometimes - you turn out to be one of the few people she trusts enough to mindlessly dump her thoughts to, both good and bad
Bumblebee:
one of the first to get to know you, overly excited about having a fresh face around
super curious when he sees you working on something, a barrage of questions translated from mechanical chirps and whirrs with the help (and annoyance) of ratchet
he’ll actually try and mimic some of your art on the walls of hidden ditches where he and rafael hang out, excitedly bringing you along to show off his latest work and buzzing happily when you praise it
will eventually, with your encouragement, try and make something original - he ends up finding it pretty soothing and an easier way to feel understood; communicating his feelings without words can be unsurprisingly helpful for someone who can’t use any of his own
you’ll spend hours hanging out and working on your stuff - he likes when you help him with his own art, adding your own brushstrokes to the concrete wall
he’ll let you sit up on his shoulder just to watch him make whatever he feels like making, or even just taking you on joyrides in the desert where he doesnt need to worry about anything going wrong
while it’s usually you, him and raf hanging out he does enjoy spending solo time with you - usually in silence or one-sided conversations, but you understand each other well enough without words
will also figure out what your favorite songs are and surprise you with them; he loves when you get all giddy about literally anything
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moralesluvr · 10 months
Text
DATING MILES MORALES AS A GIRLY GIRL | HC ❥
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♡ pairings & aus: miles morales x fem!black!reader (this is HEAVILY black coded bookies, a little self-indulgent lmao) ♡ warnings: miles being a teeny bit of a watcher, him also being a lil' jealous, thats it? ♡ summary: what it's like to date our boy ♡ a/n: i love this boy sm y'all pls ♡ got a request? | masterlist ♡
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when miles first saw you, he knew that he was smitten.
you were just perfect with your dark curls and your bright, glowy makeup...the dark pink lip gloss that shone against your gorgeous two-toned lips...yeah, he was done for.
he watched you for a while before mustering up the courage to even talk to you. he'd sit at lunch with a couple of his friends and as they would talk to him, he would be completely zoned out, too focused on the way you looked so pretty sitting at your lunch table with your friends, head drawn back as you laughed at someone's joke
he couldn't help but stare. you were pretty, and he knew this, but he was upset by the fact that other people knew it too. but he couldn't really be jealous because you weren't even his
...yet.
miles was determined to have you 100%.
but he never found the courage to talk to you. he would wake up in the mornings and convince himself he could do it, that he wouldn't embarrass himself, and then go to school and literally not say a word to you.
he knew it was getting bad when he'd ask mrs. morales to go to football games every single friday, no matter how far away they were. she just wanted her son to get out a little so she'd say yes, but little did she know, he was going for you.
you were a cheerleader, so miles would drive however far just to sit in the lop lefthand corner with his sketchbook cracked open, pencil dancing gently against the pages as he drew you in all types of positions-- smiling, cheering, touching your hair-- he'd draw you in any way he saw you move.
eventually, you picked up on the fact that you saw miles all the time, even when you weren't in school. but your own fantasies began to stir when you caught him staring at you one day as you got up to throw your lunch trash away
he was glancing at you, and he was doing it hard. so you shot him a sweet wave and smile, and he immediately shot you one back
he was cute. very cute. and you didn't even know him, but you started to develop a small crush on him
your passes through the hallways weren't by coincident. miles rerouted his entire way to get to each class just so he could see you for five seconds. but those five seconds were so enjoyable and made his heart melt, so he didn't even mind the extra walking
this went on for months. this man had filled up an entire sketchbook with your face, and he knew that he needed to do something because there were only a couple months left of school, and the only thing you guys have exchanged is a wave, a smile, and a spare pencil.
which, when you offered him the pencil in art class, he literally acted like it was his prized possession. it was a baby blue color with a light pink tip, and it actually smelled so much like you. he felt a little embarrassed by how happy he was about it, but he would find himself placing the item under his nose when he needed to focus on something
eventually, more months passed, and you were starting to think that he didn't really want you, he just liked looking at you. looking at your frilly skirts and pink sweaters, your chunky doc martens, your shiny black curls and your pearly dangling earrings. but your mind quickly changed when he came up to your locker one day, palms sweating and voice cracking as he finally spoke to you
"hi...um, y/n, is it?"
he played dumb, as if he hadn't been watching you for months. but you just went along with it and introduced yourself with a smile, and for a minute, he just stared at you and didn't say a word, until you gave him an inquisitive look.
"miles, everything alright?"
"s-sorry, yeah...i just wanted to, um..say hi?"
it honestly comes out like a question, but you giggle at his attempt to charm you
your conversation is short lived until days pass, and miles finds himself growing more and more comfortable about talking to you.
you even invited him over to your table for lunch, which utterly shocked him because the people you sat with were like...random
as in it was a random assortment. some jocks, some art friends, some musicians..
he was grinning from ear to ear when you invited him to come sit directly next to you. your thighs were touching his and he was freaking out inside because your skin was on his, and although it was subtle, he could still feel it and the contact made him happy.
he was infatuated with you. wherever you went he couldn't help but want to follow because your presence was so warm and welcoming
after what felt like years, he finally asked you for your phone number. he became full with greed-- seeing you at school wasn't even close to enough, he wanted to be talking to you or be with you at all times.
you obviously gave him your number by writing it on a pink sticky note, signing your name under it in cursive with a heart drawn at the end. he admired your handwriting, he's never seen someone write so beautiful, and he placed that sticky note in his journal that really was just a museum of you
anything you gave him he kept. gum wrappers, pencils, sticky notes, little trinkets and gifts-- he kept it ALL.
one night, he was up late texting you and literally grinning at his phone so very hard...he just loved talking to you.
miles: You awake?
you: mhm, can't sleep :( why are you still up?
miles: I dunno, can't sleep either I guess. Why are you up?
you: why not?
you replied to a message: and i'm up just thinking about stuff...my mind won't let me fall asleep :/
miles: I get that! I actually can't sleep either because of that reason
you: oh? whatcha thinking about?
miles: You.
his text honestly threw you for an entire loop and a half. he had finally said something to indicate your feelings for you, and you were literally geeking so hard about it
once he knew you felt the same way, your texting sessions became more frequent, and way longer. he eventually got a hold of your social medias and would check them so often it was borderline unhealthy
he snapped you throughout the day, never left you on opened or delivered without reason. unless it was for spider-man stuff...which, you had yet to know about until you both finally planned a picnic date.
you got all cute, hair done up and makeup flawless, clad in a flowy, long skirt and a white crop top with accented sleeves.
you were literally walking out of the front door until you got a text from miles, apologizing for the inconvenience that he wouldn’t be able to make it. you were so bummed out, you found a tear leaving your eye and you walked back to your room, disappointed.
miles was literally crumbled at the fact that he had to miss your date, your first one at that. so he wanted to make it up to you.
he quickly finished up his patrol work and threw himself back into his house, quickly saying hi to his mother before showering and getting dressed, spraying on cologne and grabbing his wallet and keys.
“mijo, where are you going?”
“out! te quiero, i’ll be back!”
mama rio obviously picked up on the fact that he was seeing a girl, but she just kept it to herself as miles flew out the door, running to the closest flower shop, and then apartment and knocking on the door. he expected you to answer, but your father did instead, causing him to literally shrink in his own skin as he said hello to him.
he was scared that your father didn’t know who he was until he said “you must be my daughter’s boyfriend!”
“oh— boyfriend? i-“
he was very quickly dragged inside your home. he conversed with your parents for a while as they welcomed him, and he eventually found himself at your room’s door with your flowers clasped in his palms, which were sweating with anxiety.
you told him to come in, and your sadness was lifted as he gave you a smile and a wave, handing you the flowers. and you were so ecstatic that you kissed his cheek, and he swore he almost died inside.
he took you to a rooftop and you had your picnic there, where he held you in his arms as you admired the night sky, until he pulled one of your curls behind your ear as you laid in his chest.
“y/n…can i…can i be your boyfriend?”
it was so random and unexpected, but you whispered to him with a smile,
“yes.”
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tags!: @queenesther996 // @wydney // @rinnyisnothere // @brieryann // @starhrtz // @daisydark // @randomhoex // @solanawrld // @whore4hobie // @tanakaslastbraincell // @simp4miguell // @nyrovi3 // @aziulsworld // @enchantingfoxsparkles // @mancerseedu // @cafehyunji // @personofyou // @mcdvsr // @calliarlerte // @pr0wlerpunk // @tzuyuzzs // @clearskiiiess // @vienreina // @pixqlsin // @stvrgrl // @zerosinterweb // @mookiebut // @urmotherswhor3 // @cumbermovels // @asmobeuses // @yanghees // @popeheywardssecretgf // @mxspiderman2099 // @scryarchives // @rksses // @mmst4rz // @ilyless // @milesmolasses // @laylasbunbunny // @all444miles // @thecoloredpages // @bl00dsuccker // @adoremvney // @anikaluv // @qtdenks // @art-598
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arachine · 2 years
Text
— 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤'𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐚 𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐠𝐨𝐥𝐝
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+ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: brat tamer! eddie munson x f! reader 
+ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: mature
+ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: in which reader finds a pair of cuffs in eddie’s room...
+ 𝐜𝐰: explicit sexual content, oral sex (f receiving), vaginal fingering, orgasm denial (kinda), squirting, sassy reader, loser eddie :0
+ 𝐰𝐜: 3.1k
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+ 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: this was a thirst about brat tamer eddie and hopper but i got carried away and focused entirely on eddie LMAO! so, to whoever sent in the thirst, i will be making a hopper version one of these days. but yeah, whore thoughts >.<
+ i feel like with eddie, he’s not as overt in his proclivity for brat taming as opposed to hopper. like hopper jokes around every so often…entertains the idea when you’re being a nuisance…but with eddie? it only comes up when you happen to discover them on accident. 
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“Hey,” you call out, your voice carrying over into the room eddie was currently occupying, “what’re these?”
The brunet replies with a brisk ‘what?’ without bringing his attention to your lingering presence in the doorway of the living room, hands too preoccupied with strumming the chords of his beloved guitar.
You stand there watching as he smooths his hands up and down the body of it, like he were running his hands over the pastures and plains of a person and not…an inanimate object. He’d always treated his guitar like it was his pride and joy, because, well—it was. 
At an attempt to draw his attention towards you, you clear your throat. Once, twice, then another. 
“Edddd,” you drawl. It comes out in a lilt, soft and sweet; almost like you were beckoning him, as a gentle mother would call for her baby. However, your persistent advances to get his eyes on you are to no avail. 
“Oh, sweetheart,” eddie strums, “you are absolutely incredible, just amazing.” It’d be nice if those sweet words of affirmation were aimed towards you, but they weren’t. You were competing with an inanimate object, and to be quite frank, the damn thing was beating you by a mile. A tinge of jealously begins to form in the pit of your stomach when he goes from cooing to having a full on conversation. God, he couldn’t be more of a loser.
He’s taken out of his trance upon hearing you clear your throat for the umpteenth time in the last minute.
“Why’d’ya keep doing that?” He finally looks up, but before his eyes can fix on your own, he catches a glimpse of the item in your hand.
How’d she—
“‘Cause you weren’t paying attention to me. Thought I was the love of your life, but I guess this guitar that’s not even sentient’s got me beat.” You follow up with a small chuckle, as if to hide the fact that a teeny, tiny part of you maybe was a little jealous. And yet, despite the smile you feign, and the tone of your voice, Eddie senses a touch of jealousy? Frustration? Maybe even a mixture of both. Partially because you’re so easy to read, and Partially because you unintentionally let a little pout slip through. Cute, he thinks.
“So,” Eddie rises from his seat and saunters over to where you stand, “you were asking me where i got these old things from?” The sound of his boots padding across the floor create an ominous, heavy thud. He walks in a way that’s a little taunting—intimidating, and his smile only grows wider with each step as he encroaches toward your space in the doorway. 
“Yeah,” you reply, “I wanted…I wanted to…” Now he’s fully in your space. The palm of his hand rests flat against the surface above the crest of your head. His boot clad feet are planted firmly in front of yours, and his face (which wears a smirk now), nears closer and closer to your own—so close that the warmth of his breath leaves zephyr-light kisses in it’s wake. 
“You wanted what, baby? Some attention? Is that why you were in there,” his eyes shift to his room, “snooping around? ‘Cause you were jealous?” 
“Why would I be jealous of a guitar?” You query, but he only replies with a hearty laugh.
“‘Cause I was touching her today. Calling her my good girl, my sweet girl—is that what you wanna hear too? That you’re my good girl? My best girl?” Eddie raises a knuckle to the skin of your cheek, watching for any minuscule changes within your expression. 
“Shut up, Munson.” swiftly, Eddie pilfers the cuffs from your hands. Before you can react, the metal item is closed around your wrists, and then a loud ‘click’ resounds through the air. He’d imprisoned you in the very cuffs that you sought an answer for, essentially beating you at your own game. If that’s how he wanted to play it, then so be it. 
“You damned—“ Eddie interjects with a tsk.
“Don’t be mean, (Name),” he places his hand over his heart, feigning faux hurt. “Good girls listen, and right now I need you to be quiet.” 
The boy promptly grabs you by the forearms and pushes you inside of the room. He walks you all the way back until your movements are put to a halt by the presence of his bed. Without saying a word, he pushes you backward with the force of a finger, and waits until your body settles from the impact. 
“What’re you do—“ 
“What’d I say?” You bite your tongue and don’t attempt to hide the sour expression molding on your face. 
Rather quickly, he begins his assault on your clothes, stripping you out of your denim jeans with unbridled urgency. Next to go are your panties, but before he tosses them into the mess of clothes that vacate his floor, he sits down onto the bed, a creak of springs not too far behind. Your eyes are fixed on him and him alone. They scour every inch of his face, they scour his body, and they track every modicum of a movement he makes. 
His hands slide between the crevice of your thighs, and he slowly spreads them apart as if he were handling something so fragile, that it’d break with the blow a breath. Your eyes are still set on his; they repeat back every small glance, and every blink, and they lower at the same time his face levels with your clothed cunt. 
The blood in that courses in your body is scorching, you’re sure of it. Because the room is getting hotter, and you’re feeling dizzy, and now you’re growing a little restless as you anticipate his next move. Still, he’s unmoving. He’s just sitting there, with his eyes trained not on you, but your pussy. 
There’s a wet spot growing darker and darker with each passing second, and it clings to the silhouette of your folds, giving Eddie a generous view of his precious target. Then, without a beat, you feel the plumpness of his lips on your core. He kisses it once, twice, three times before licking a long stripe up the center. The sudden contact makes your back lurch into the air, ushering a faint whimper from your lips. 
“Eddie…” the desperation in your voice is palpable. He knows you’re growing restless, so he indulges you. The brunet pushes the cloth to the side and swipes a finger over your folds. The second he pulls it away, a tether of essence follows suit until it disappears completely. You’re so damn wet, and so damn cute with your knees apart for him like this, that it’s got him rock hard in the confines of his pants. But his intentions were to get you off, so, unfortunately, he’d have to opt for grinding pathetically into the bed. 
Experimentally, he pushes his middle finger in, slides it all the way to the hilt. His eyes briefly scan your face; you’re looking back at him intensely, though, there’s a softness mirroring back at him—as if they were saying: ‘please’, ‘more’, ‘need you’. At least, that’s what he thinks, but his assumptions must be correct because your cunt’s sucking his finger in so tightly, he can barely pull it out. so, he doesn’t. He adds another, and once again, pushes it all the way until each notch of his knuckles disappear inside. 
“God, look at you,” he breathes, “you’re so…” Whatever he says after is lost on you, because now his mouth’s latched onto your clit, and the shock renders your brain completely, and utterly useless. Jello, you feel like jello with the way he’s working his mouth on you. Very briefly, he sits up, causing a frown to form on your face from his absence. His calloused hands smooth up the pastures of your thighs, up until they reach your hips; and once they find the hem of your panties, he hooks two fingers under the fabric, pulling them down the apex of your thighs. 
Now that you’re beneath him, fully exposed with your cunt front and center, he resumes his attacks. If his eagerness wasn’t compelling before, it is now. Because now he’s getting noisy, he’s getting sloppier, and the smacking and spitting, and popping sounds are reverberating off the walls. For a few minutes, this is all you hear, all that fills your head as he works you open with the thickness of his digits. 
Instinctively, your hands move down to grasp his face but the tightness and cold metal against your skin is a stark reminder than you cannot. All you can do, is reach down and grab a tuft of hair from the crown of his head. A frustrated, strangled whimper emits from your throat. eddie blinks up briefly, then laughs against your folds. 
“Awe, poor baby,” he mocks, “do you want these off?” 
You nod your head erratically, sputtering incoherencies as his deft fingers thrust in and out of your wetness. His once agonizingly fast pace starts to slow, then he stifles his ministrations altogether, pulling all three of his long digits out. Eddie rises from laying on his belly and then settles on his knees. he smiles deviously before opening his mouth to speak.
“I’ll take these off on one condition.” You lift your head weakly from his pillow and mutter a ‘what?’ that comes out more exasperated than intended. 
“You have to admit that you’re a brat and you wanted my attention,” the boy says matter-of-factly, sporting a smug grin that you wanted to oh, so badly wipe off. 
“And if i don’t?” You counter, sporting a smug grin of your own—an iota of seriousness laced in your tone. Eddie only climbs up to your body, using the strength of his fists to hover over you. 
“Then you just don’t get to cum.” 
The statement sends waves of intermittent pulses straight to your core. You weren’t sure if it was his tone, or the fact that you could see yourself within the reflection of his obsidian eyes, or even if was because of the fact that you could feel him pressed beneath you, but you listened. 
“I’m a…brat.” It came out so hushed that if it weren’t for your lips moving, he would’ve been convinced you didn’t say anything. 
“What was that?” You sit up and slump against the headboard, the noise of metal clanging against metal being a loud reminder of your unfortunate confinement. 
“I’m a brat,” you say with a little more energy, but still you’re not done. Eddie wants to hear you say it with more conviction. More, more, more. “And…?” 
“And i wanted…I wanted your attention,” you admit, “i wanted you to touch me all day, but you were too busy playing with that thing, and not me.” oh, this is good. This is more than good—more than what he asked for, but nonetheless, it was something. And how could he hear his pretty baby’s admittances and not indulge her?
“Now, was that so hard?” Eddie asks. “I set a condition and you fulfilled it, now you shall reap the benefits.” Even amidst a setting like this, he never fails to say the most ridiculous things. But his words are of no major importance to you. All you want is to kiss him silly, and for his mouth, his fingers—his hands, to be on you.
“Yeah, yeah, shut up, Munson. Just kiss me.” The handcuffs drop to the bed with a silent thud, and soon as they do, you grab his face into your hands and kiss him. You kiss him silly, urgently. A peck there, a peck there, a peck there…you kiss him until all of the breath in your lungs is knocked out of the both of you. You kiss him until it’s wet, and sloppy, and heated—until your lips swell from the pushing and chasing, until the clashing of teeth and tongue become too much. 
Soon, he pulls away and leaves a slick string a saliva connecting from your lips to his. He grabs you once more by the forearms and brings you to sit up, stripping you of the black sabbath tee he’d given to you months prior. It was more yours than his now, and it suited you better than it ever did him. The sight of your bare chest sends the blood rushing straight back down to his cock, he wants to fuck you so, so, so very badly. 
For a final time, his lips find yours, and then they pull away, and wander down, down, down. They hover over the base of your neck, your collarbone, down the valley of your breasts (before making a pit stop to gently kiss your pebbled nipples), down the plains of your abdomen, and then stop at the top of your mound. This is when he looks up at you. this is when he says ‘i love you’ without even uttering a word. 
His eyes depart from your face and close shut when he places the final kiss on your mound. It’s a little longer than the rest, like he’s been waiting to get here, to worship this place, and this place alone. As soon as his lips leave your skin, they’re on your cunt in an instant. He spares you not a second to prepare; he’s focused, unfettered, and machiavellian in his process, incredibly so.
“Tastes so good,” are the words that you manage to hear. You know he’s speaking to himself and not really to you, because every so often, he mutters something else under his breath. 
“More,” you plea, pushing his head deeper until the tip of his nose brushes the opening of your slit. You can feel the vibrations of his voice against you, but you have idea what he’s saying. All you know is that he complies and gives you exactly what you want. As you stare up at the ceiling, chest heaving and falling uncontrollably, you feel the firsts of his fingers to enter you. It’s tantalizingly slow, disappears and exits in a steady rhythm. with his free hand, he clasps it under and over your thigh to keep you from fidgeting. The free palm finds solace on the bone of your hip before he squeezes it once, and then uses it to draw deliberate circles on the engorged bud. 
“E-Eddie, you feel—fuck—so good,” your voice trembles in pleasure. Wisps of his hair fall over his face, and you grab what you can to form a makeshift ponytail so that he can see. 
The last digit enters your cunt, and the delicious stretch that you were anticipating since his absence was finally restored. You’re sure you could cum just from this alone, from the mere pace his fingers set, from the places they reach, and the burn that resides when he pushes them all to the hilt. The air is getting thinner, and your moans are getting louder…there’s no way in hell you weren’t starting to get close. The final push is when he replaces his hand on your clit for his tongue.
It works in tandem with the thrusting of his fingers, and it laps at you angrily, like he were a man dying of thirst in the desert and you were the first droplets of rain: a miracle. The pink muscle dances and flicks with calculated precision. From your perspective, his movements don’t seem to have any real significance, but Eddie knows what he’s doing. He knows exactly what he’s doing—which is writing the entirety of his name on the expanse of your pussy. 
E-d-d-i-e. pause. then, finishes with M-u-n-s-o-n. Maybe he’s crazy, but the second he finishes spelling out his name, your cunt starts to clench him harder and your thighs start to tense around his head. If you came because your body somehow knew he was spelling his name, he’d never let you hear the end of it; because in his head, in his mind, that meant that it recognized him as yours, and vice versa. 
“‘M gonna…think ‘m gonna cum!” 
Faster than he could blink, you’d come undone right on his fingers—his face. Your back arched into the air, forming a pretty crescent shape before falling limp into the plush of his sheets. He’d lifted himself from his stomach and sat beside your shaking frame, pulling you up along with him. One of his hands pulled your head to lay against his chest, while the other opted to rub comforting motions on the side of your arm. He watched intently as your heaving chest started to settle down, your prior ragged breaths now much more even. 
You were so cute like this, all fucked out, barely able to open your eyes. The two of you stay like this for some time, basking in the tranquility of post-sex. Once you open your eyes, he immediately greets you with a snarky comment. 
“Well, hello there, sweetheart. Almost thought you were a goner,” Eddie exaggerates, sticking out his tongue and closing his eyes as if he were a corpse. You sit up from his chest and turn to him, pinching his sides.
“Ow,” he soothes his side, “but on a more serious note, you will be washing these sheets,” he points down. You take a look at the sheets, and he’s right. Your essence stands out starkly against the color of his sheets, you’ve made a complete mess of them. Smiling, you offer a shy ‘sorry’ and then hide your face in the barrow of his neck. You can feel his hot gaze on you from this position. 
“Guess i did tame you after all,” he gasps, “where’s the sass? You’re all smiles and cheeks now.” You lift your head from his neck and give him an indignant look. 
“What? I didn’t say anything wrong!” You squeeze your eyes into slits. “The guitar wouldn’t be looking at me like this right now if I used my tongue on her…” He shoots in playful banter. 
“Shut up, Munson.” God, he couldn’t be more of a loser. 
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© all content belongs to arachine 2022. no reposts, modifications, plagiarizing, or remaking of any form without proper credit. 
7K notes · View notes
moraxsthrone · 11 months
Note
OK I HOPE YOU'RE HAPPY AND PROUD OF YOURSELF BC YOU SINGLE-HANDEDLY GAVE ME ITTO BRAINROT HOW?? WHY?? W H A T???? DFCVHBNJNKMLAG
Indulge me with this little thirst
Imagine you're wearing the cutest lacy frilly lingerie set (bonus if it matches his colors black/purple/red) that just accentuates all the right curves and spots, crisscross stripes over your skin aND WHEN HE SEES YOU HE JUST GOES 👀!!!!!!! jaw hits the floor blushing drooling and repeating "babe" your name and freaking out, brain stops working just pulls you up on his big strong arms and sits you on his lap (and BOI his not-so-little friend downstairs is already excited huh)
and you just go :3c all coy and cute and delicate leaning in pressing your chest against his, scooting closer "Itto baby you gotta be careful unwrapping your present, it would be a shame to tear up something so pretty... right?" finger drawing circles on his skin making him SHIVER
AND IMAGINE HIM JUST S T R U G G L I N G TO KEEP IT TOGETHER and be delicate untying the lacy strings like NAH MAN he's got BIG HANDS NOT MADE FOR THIS TASK LMAO
plus you're making it REAL hard kissing and chuckling at his neck and rolling your hips against his crotch slow and sensual
by the time those panties come off they're soaked through with a mix of his pre and your slick asxdcvghjbnjkl
*HSAKING BITING MY PILLOW HORNY GRIP*
MA'AM I WROTE AN ENTIRE FIC WHAT HAVE YOU D O N E i think.... i think you gave me a size kink........ BUT GODS YOUR WRITING IS SO!!!!! *rabid horny crys noises*
i’ll have you know i am quite pleased with myself for making you (and anyone else who will listen) foam at the mouth for arataki mf itto.
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‧₊˚ pairing — arataki itto x f!reader
‧₊˚ wc — 1.3k
‧₊˚ cw — nsfw. mdni. fem!reader. praise. oral (m. & f. rcv'ing). implied squirting.
‧₊˚ a/n — okay, so crys sent me this WEEKS AGO and every time i sat down and tried to answer, the words just wouldn't come out right? BUT THEN i realized itto's bday was only a few weeks away (at the time) and since she describes you as being his "present" IT HIT ME LIKE A TON OF BRICKS...THIS WOULD MAKE THE PERFECT BIRTHDAY IDEA FOR OUR ONE AND ONI KING ARATAKI ITTO!!
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poor itto’s just sitting there, looking down between his claws and the cute frilly bra you have on, his big oni head full, debating with himself over whether he should try to be delicate and slowly work the lacy underthings off of you, or throw caution to the wind and get the things off of you as quickly as he can by Any Means Necessary™️. as ravishing as you look in that dainty lingerie, he decides it's worth sacrificing in the name of getting his mouth on your tits as quickly as possible. his hands are trembling a little and his cock is throbbing underneath your thigh when his pretty crimson eyes meet yours, full of unspoken apologies.
but then he gets another idea. a better idea.
what if he can do everything he wants with you without taking the lingerie off at all????
itto grabs two handfuls of your ass, squeezing your plush flesh between his big fingers as he guides your hips, rocking them back and forth to feel the heat of your cunt dragging along his clothed length. he’s so hard and big you can feel the ridge of his cockhead through the thin material of your panties, which are getting wetter with your slick by the second.
you huff a breathy laugh against his neck, shuddering a little when your clit catches on the front seam of his pants. you’re moving on your own when he captures your chin between his thumb and index finger, guiding your face away from his neck so he can press his lips to yours. his kiss is needy and passionate, a quiet groan escaping his throat when you push your tongue into his mouth. oh, he likes that very much, especially when you lick at his fangs with a playful moan.
he cups one of your tits in his hand and gives it a gentle squeeze, making you whine a little in his mouth. he can feel your hard nipple through the lacy material and pushes the cup of the bra down to let your tit spill out into his hand. he temporarily abandons your fervent kiss to trace the tip of his tongue around your pebbled bud before closing his lips around it to suckle, his tongue still swirling. You push your fingers into his hair, holding onto his horns as your head falls back in pleasure. 
he picks you up and puts you on your back before getting on his knees and pushing your open legs back, spreading them wide so he can see the dark wet spot that has formed in the fabric that's covering your juicy cunt. he can smell you and it’s making his cock drool inside his pants. he kisses your folds through the flimsy cloth, the tip of his nose nudging your hard clit as he goes. soft presses of his lips turn into open-mouthed kisses just before he teases your sweet little pearl. he flattens his tongue against your cunt, making you moan at the feeling of his hot, wet muscle as it makes pinpoints of contact with your skin through the lacy panties.
“mmm baby, your pussy tastes so good…fuck,” itto mutters, his voice heavy with lust.
hooking his finger inside the crotch of your panties, itto moves the lace over to one side, exposing your pink, glistening slit. the sight of your beautiful pussy has him licking his lips...then slowly licking yours. you flinch beneath him, heels digging into his hard shoulders when he flicks and rolls your tiny hard-on around with the tip of his tongue before wrapping his lips around it and sucking it in. your oni may not be the smartest guy, but he knows how to eat pussy like no other. he pulls off long enough to stick his middle finger in his mouth and get it wet before carefully pushing it in your hole, watching your face with a mischievous grin as your back arches for him when you feel the slight stretch of his thick digit. he slowly fucks you with his finger before adding another.
and you certainly don't have to take anything off to be able to swallow his thick cock. he thinks it’s so sweet when you choke on it bc it shows how much you wanna please him and make him feel good. so he brushes his thumb over your hollowed cheek and there’s so much adoration in his fiery eyes when he groans and tells you how good you are to him. you treat him like a king and he dotes on you bc you’re his queen. 
and when he's ready to fuck you, he just rolls you onto your belly and pushes those purple little panties to the side. the thong is hooked around his thumb as he holds onto your hips and pushes his leaking cockhead inside you. little by little, inch by inch, he fills you with his thick oni cock and starts hitting it from the back. your whimpers and gasps of his name spur him on, driving his big dick in and out of your juicy cunt. he watches the way your tight little hole stretches open around his wide shaft, his fang leaving an indentation where he bites his lower lip to keep from cumming too fast. “nhnnn…fuck yeah, baby! takin’ my cock so well…” he praises you as the front of his muscular thighs clap against the back of yours.
a few more thrusts and he pulls out, making you whine. but before you can protest, he’s got you on your back and his huge hands around your ankles, pulling them against the hard plane of his chest. itto’s bedroom eyes are burning into yours when the tip of his tongue swipes across his lower lip as he guides his fat tip back to your hole. he pushes inside you again, his open-mouthed groan harmonizing with your pretty sigh as your wet heat stretches around him, tight and welcoming like he’s right where he’s supposed to be. leaning forward, he puts you in a press and starts fucking you again, but this time it’s slow and deep. irises of molten rock peer into your watering eyes as he tells you how beautiful you are, how good you are to him, how much he appreciates you and the way you’ve given him the best birthday present of all:
you. you, and your love.
your legs are hanging helplessly over his beefy, marked arms. the red straps of your bra have long fallen off your shoulders, your tits spilling out of the flimsy cups and bouncing with every hard thrust of itto’s strong hips. his long, white hair has fallen over his shoulders to tickle your skin, and your eyes soften.
“mmm, happy birthday, my king…” you sigh.
he leans in closer, pressing your knees to your chest, his hips still snapping into yours as he cups your jaw in his big hand. “i love you, my queen…love you so fuckin’ much,” he breathes, then kisses you hard. your tongues swirl and his hips begin to stutter. “fuck, m'so close. cum...cum with me, baby…” 
with the way his thick, bulbous cockhead has been tugging at your sweet spot for the past few minutes, you don't need to be told twice. you place your hands on either side of his face and nod, panting. he buries himself deep and grinds into you, his coarse thatch of white pubic hair rubbing your clit as his heavy balls draw up tighter and tighter against your taint.
“oh gods…” he sighs, “...fuck…”
“cum for me, itto,” you gasp, beckoning him as your own orgasm takes hold and he feels you gush all around him, soaking his lower abs and crying his name.
he plants his lips against one of your palms and squeezes his eyes shut, grunting, “cumming…i- nngghhaa fuck!” his hips twitch and jerk into you as the first jet of his hot semen erupts inside you. his oni ancestry ensures that he cums in massive loads, filling you to the brim and spilling out of you before he’s even done emptying himself inside your womb.
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‧₊˚ itto m.list || happy bday you big sexy oni *kisses his horns, one at a time*
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lunarbuck · 1 year
Note
DBF!Ari Levinson + beach day
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alice you're gonna kill me lmao
pairing: DBF!Ari x f!reader (any race)
wc: 1.5k
beta'd by @late-to-the-party-81 <3 <3 <3
sneak peek: “You see something you like, princess?” You nod, practically in a trance. Ari steps toward you, tilting his head down to whisper into your ear. “Then take it.”
warnings: age gap, fluffly flirting, dbf, edging/orgasm delay/denial, oral (m receiving), smut (p in v), pet names [daddy, princess, baby]
my masterlist | 1.5k sleepover
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The sand is warm beneath your toes as you settle onto your towel, letting the sun soak into your skin. It’s early enough in the season that the beach isn’t incredibly busy, so you just had to take advantage. 
As you close your eyes and let the summer heat warm you, you feel fingers brushing against your arm. Calloused but gentle, the fingers draw up your arm, tickling your neck, and find their way to cup your jaw.
“Princess,” Ari practically groans, shifting to block the sun from your face. “You’re killing me.” You grin, keeping your eyes closed. 
“And what’re you gonna do about it?” You taunt, tugging your bottom lip between your teeth in the way you know drives Ari crazy. “ Daddy .” You draw the word out and peek an eye open just in time to see Ari’s pupils blow wide. 
Ari shifts closer, sidling himself right next to you. Your mouth waters as his broad chest brushes against your shoulder, as his hand slides from your face and down your neck. His fingers trace over the edge of your swimsuit. You’d chosen it specifically to tease him, knowing it’s too small to fully cover your breasts.
You hum lightly in pleasure as Ari runs his strong hands over your body, and for a moment, you worry about the possibility of someone seeing you. The beach isn’t too busy today, but the possibility of someone walking past and seeing the way Ari is touching you, the way you’re reacting to his touch, makes you shiver.  
“You think you can tease me and not have any consequences for that?” Ari asks, dipping his head to kiss the sensitive spot on your neck. 
You shrug, keeping up your air of indifference. “You’re gonna pay for that, princess. But not right now. Right now, I want to enjoy the weather with my gorgeous girl” Suddenly, Ari’s arms sweep under you, and he swiftly picks you up. You giggle into Ari’s chest, holding onto him as he carries you toward the water. 
Ari walks into the surf until the crystal blue waters come up to his waist. He settles into it, letting you adjust to the temperature and as you do, you wrap your arms around his neck, letting your fingers play with the ends of his hair.
“I’m glad you got the day off,” you tell him as he shifts your position, wrapping your legs around his hips.
“Me too, princess. Your dad might be getting a little suspicious, though.” You sigh at the mention of your father. Ari and your dad have worked together for years now. You hadn’t meant to fall for your dad’s friend, but you don’t regret it one bit. One day, you’ll tell your dad, but you don’t want to think about it right now.
“We’ll tell him soon,” you say, pressing a kiss to Ari’s firm chest. “But let’s just be here. Let’s just enjoy today.” Ari gazes down with you, blue eyes shining like the water, and smiles.
You and Ari swim around, talking and laughing, carefree in a way the two of you often aren’t able to experience. Once your fingers get pruney and the sun starts to set, Ari picks you up and carries you back onto the beach. 
After gathering your things, you and Ari wander back to the hotel. He’d surprised you by booking it for the weekend and you were so grateful because it means no sneaking around, no hiding; just an entire weekend of you and Ari.
When you’re back in the hotel room, you bask in the chill of the air conditioning before wandering into the bathroom and turning on the shower. You slip out of your bathing suit, leaving it on the counter, and step under the spray.
You start your routine using your favorite shampoo to rinse the salt from your hair. As you engross yourself in the routine, you hear the bathroom door click open. Ari wanders in through the steam, leaning against the counter. You watch as he picks up your bikini bottoms and twirls them around his finger. 
“This bikini is gonna be the death of me, princess,” he says, voice low and gravelly. “You looked so sexy in it.” You smile to yourself as you rinse the shampoo from your hair. Ari slides the shower door open and steps under the water with you.
“Ari,” you whisper, drinking in the sight of his gorgeous body. Your eyes drift down his muscular chest, his abs, his adonis belt. When your eyes land on his hard cock, you go weak in the knees.
“You see something you like, princess?” You nod, practically in a trance. Ari steps toward you, tilting his head down to whisper into your ear. “Then take it.” You sink down to your knees, letting your eyes flick up to Ari’s face. He grins and cups your face with his big hands as you lick a drop of precum from his tip. He tastes salty and sweet, and you bite back a moan.
Before Ari, you’d never really enjoyed giving head, but Ari changes everything. How reactive he is, how much pleasure he gives you as you pleasure him. It’s amazing. You take him into your mouth, sucking him as deeply as you can, and Ari’s hands shift to your head. He doesn’t push, just guides you as your mouth moves over his dick.
“So good, baby,” he tells you through gritted teeth. “So fucking good.” You glow under his praise and squeeze your thighs together. Pleasure shoots through you and builds in your belly. You lose yourself as you take Ari deeper and deeper, loving his taste on your tongue. 
Ari suddenly pulls away, and you watch him for his next move. He helps you stand and pins you to the cool tiles. He lets his eyes travel over your body, and you feel heat settle in your belly.
“See something you like?” You ask, tossing his words back at him.
“I do,” he replies, running his hands up your torso to your breasts. He runs his fingers over your nipples, toying with them. “And I’m gonna take it.” 
Ari dives in and kisses you, stealing your breath away. Your knees wobble beneath you, and he picks you up, wrapping your legs around him. Your pussy grinds against his cock, and you moan into his mouth. You wiggle your hips, aching for him to fuck you, to drive himself deep inside of you.
“Please, Ari, please,” you whisper, building your pleasure higher and higher as you grind against him. 
“Tell me what you want, princess,” he says, sucking a mark into your neck. 
“Ari, I want you to fuck me, please,” you beg, picking up the pace of your hips. Your orgasm builds and builds. “I need it so bad, Ari.”
“Yeah?” he asks, gently biting your shoulder. “You want me to fuck you?” You nod, already a whimpering mess in his arms.
Ari snakes a hand between you and finds your clit with his fingers. He rubs circles in the way he knows you love, and it nearly sends you over the edge. The moment you’re about to come apart, he stops. He holds your hips still, and you groan as the orgasm fades.
“Ari,” you whine, trying to writhe against him, but he holds you still.
“Hm, princess, you shouldn’t have talked back to me earlier,” he says, running his thumb back over your clit. You jolt, sensitivity setting in. 
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, Ari,” you tell him, hoping he’ll take mercy on you.
“Actions have consequences, baby.” He grinds his hips against yours, resuming his ministrations on your clit.
Ari works you up to orgasm after orgasm before ripping each of them away, not letting you come, over and over again. He shuts off the water and carries you to the bed, not caring that both of you are still dripping wet. You shake in his arms, a puddle in his hands. When he’s finally decided that you’ve had enough, you have tears pricking your eyes.
“You did so good for me, princess,” he whispers, kissing you gently. “So good.” Ari shifts your hips and lines his cock up.
“Please, Ari, please, I need you so bad.” Ari kisses you and finally presses inside of your aching pussy, making you see stars. He stretches you so much it almost hurts, but he soothes the pain with his lips on your cheek. 
His pace is gentle but deep, hitting the spot inside you that makes your body shake. He worships your body, wringing pleasure from you. He whispers words of praise to you, making your body sing.
“You’re so fucking perfect, baby,” he tells you as an orgasm builds deep inside you. “My perfect princess.” 
When you come, your whole body tightens, and your vision blacks out. Ari fucks you through it, kissing you senseless. With a few more flexes of his hips, he follows you over the edge and sinks to the bed beside you. As you come down from the high, Ari pulls you into his side, holding you close and pressing kisses to your temple.
In moments like this, your love of Ari seems to flow from you. In every touch, in every whispered word.
“I love you, princess,” he whispers into your hair.
“I love you too, Ari.”
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